John Antoine: An Appreciation

IMPROVEMENT ERA Vol. XXV APRIL, 1922 No. fi John Antoine — An Apprecialion By Fred Warner Shibley (With an introduction by President Heber J. Grant) Introduction Mr. Fred W. Shibley, the author of the following tribute to his Indian friend, John Antoine, came to Salt Lake City, repre- senting the bankers in New York, Chicago, and San Francisco, to whom the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company was owing many millions of dollars of money. He looked into the conditions of the Company and the management of the same, and the pro- duction of sugar for twenty years past, and made a very splendid report as to the future outcome of the business. I had the pleasure of traveling to New York with him and making ar- rangements with the bankers for an extension of our obliga- tions to them. I became very much attached to Mr. Shibley and count him now among my dear friends. I was delighted with his tribute to his Indian friend, and asked permission to reproduce it in the Improvement Era, which he gladly granted. We, of all people in the world, are interested in the descend- ants of Lehi. No other people appreciate so much the real worth of the Indian, and have absolute confidence in his final destiny, as do the Latter-day Saints. Therefore, I am sure all of the Latter-day Saint readers of the Era will very much en- joy the splendid tribute paid to John Antoine by my friend, Mr. Fred W. Shibley.— Heber J. Grant. John Antoine On the day before Christmas of last year there died at Sharbot Lake, Canada, a good man, a helpful neighbor and a faithful friend. John Antoine was rich in years. He must have been fully eighty years of age at the time of his death but he was so upright in form, his hair was so black and his

480 IMPROVEMENT ERA steps so firm that it was difficult to think of him as very old. He was an Indian, almost full blooded, a Chippewa who had been offered the position of chief of his tribe. He had re- fused this honor through devotion to his family. He could read and write as a little child does in its first years at school. Most of the artificial benefits of existence were denied to him but it could be said of John as of only a select few in this world, Nature and he were mother and son. The great sympa- thetic maternal influence of organic life was very real to him and like a confiding child he walked at her side all his days, listening to her, trusting her, believing absolutely in her. His character, even his voice, was molded by Nature. She chose that this simple Indian should be a gentle man, speaking with a tongue that possessed the murmuring tonal qualities of the forest. His was the serenity of a great pine, the unobtrusive- ness of tender, kindly creatures, the courage of a strong heart and the politeness and grace of unconscious worth. The strug- gle for existence was keen in every one of his fourscore years and yet in each of those years he became progressively a nobler human being, his character assumed more attractive attributes, his voice became softer and his sympathies broader. John Antoine was a hunter, a trapper, a guide, adding to these strenuous occupations of his youth, that of gardener in his later years. The world beyond the woods meant little to him. He never saw a great city or conceived the intensive strug- gle of men and women for wealth, place and power. Ambition was to him merely a word. Nevertheless, he was exceedingly wise in forest lore and the ways of the creatures of the wilder- ness. There was a peculiar kinship between him and the birds. Crows talked to him as if he were an old but somewhat severe friend. He would touch a flower as tenderly as if it were a curl on a baby's head. He always marveled at the intricate lures Nature perfected for plant and flower fertilization and he would smile broadly when he had reasoned out the con- formation of a pistil or a corona. At such a time he would look at me with super-intelligent eyes revealing the compre- hended thought and I read into his expression the words, "This Mother Nature of ours is a unique old soul. She loves to do such odd things." However, he seldom spoke, but I learned when in his company somewhat of the pleasure that may be derived from the contemplation of natural phenomena. It was a delight to follow him during a trip through the forest, observe the manner in which he marked his trail, see his body as a unit in action, every sense alert, his nostrils keen as those of a hound for the strange luring scents wandering in

JOHN ANTOINE— AN APPRECIATION 481 the laggard air, his hands touching this and that with a half caress. At such times he appeared to me as a man wholly superior in intelligence to myself. In fact I trailed in his foot- steps respectful, obedient and always hoping to get a spiritual picture of Nature such as was revealed to him. He delighted, above all else, in growing things and when he and I planted our War Garden in the clearing of the Winkle Woods he seemed to come to a full knowledge of himself and he gloried in the delights of that garden by the lake shore. There he and I realized that it was very pleasant indeed to get away from every one else and play in our garden, tending to our beloved plants and vines, watering them, tucking the soil about their stems, pulling insistent weeds which rejoiced in being bad and troublesome, listening to the birds seated on nearby trees watching us, and absorbing sunshine and the sweet freshness of the summer air. When tired we would seat ourselves on the grass near the little log cabin where old Mr. and Mrs. Winkle once lived and loved in days long gone and I would fill my pipe and smoke while John looked out over the water and across the water to the wilderness beyond, his hands clasped in his lap, like another Buddha contemplating infinity. There at the garden I came to appreciate what a beautiful character was his and to love him as now and then men come to love one another. I know that the garden at the Winkle Woods in the Canadian Wilderness will never again be the place of romance it was now that John has gone. His personality pervaded it and always I expected and knew that I should find him there when I stole away from my guests and slid over the water in the Peter Pan to the garden just to talk things over with him, see how the peas and the po- tatoes were coming on and luxuriate in the sensuousness of being alone with Nature, her creatures and her High Priest. He used constantly to insist that old Mrs. Winkle was about when we worked at the garden, hovering over her black cur- rant bushes, seeking to influence us to give them air about the roots. It will be a rare company at the garden in future years, old man Curry, who planted the Live-for-ever that still insists on living forever, Mr. and Mrs. Winkle and John Antoine, all old friends. Perhaps also Frank Hollywood, who died fighting in France, will come paddling his dugout into Peaceful bay and pause as was his wont to have a word or two with John. And always the sunshine will be there, the sweet strong smells of growing things, the musical murmurings of insect life and the fretful chatter of the birds. In appearance John Antoine was a tall, straight, robust

482 IMPROVEMENT ERA man, his features clean cut. He was a handsome man, very dark, with raven black hair which he always wore quite short. He possessed perfect white teeth and up to within a few years of his death his eyesight was as keen as that of a country boy. His eyes were dark brown, restful and somewhat melancholy in expression. His voice was remarkably cultured. He spoke quietly and slowly. He never used a profane or vulgar expres- sion. He was never servile in manner but always respectful. His bearing in the presence of ladies was gravely courteous. It was instinctive in him to stand with head uncovered in their presence. He lived in a two-room log cabin on a point just across the water to the southwest of Aspinwall Island. He had mar- ried late in life, as his second wife, a woman much younger than himself, and raised a family of ten children, all but one of whom were living at the time of his death, the youngest being a baby girl less than a year old. The two eldest chil- dren, Leslie and Amelia, had gone out into the world and as- sisted in the support of the family. The others lived in the little log cabin and were as happy as it is possible for children to be. I have observed them at play many times. Their mys- teries were intense and full of rapture and excitement. They had as companions a dog and a tame crow, the latter a weirdly intelligent creature which talked in a deep guttural, every note of which was readily interpreted by these children. Always in the evening when he came home from the Island the children would run down to the water to greet him, accompanied by the dog and the crow, the smaller boys and girls tumbling over each other like puppies. He never kissed his children at such a time but he would take a hand of the little ones and help them up the rocky slope to the cabin. In the twilight of a warm summer night he would sit outside the cabin and play jig tunes to them until they fell asleep and the crow, disturbed in its repose by the violin, would scold severely and mutter furious animal expletives. His children adored him and his wife loved and respected him. He showed partiality for only one of these children, Amelia, his oldest daughter, still a girl when he died. There was always a radiant glow in his eyes when he looked at her. I knew John Antoine intimately during the last fifteen years. I have received from his comradeship and his friend- ship more than from any other man. He and I came very close together in the later years. It is a tribute of love that I now pay to his memory. The late John B. Lunger, Vice-President of the Equitable

JOHN ANTOINE— AN APPRECIATION 483 Life Assurance Society, told me once that a day spent fishing in Sharbot Lake with John Antoine induced in him a perfect felicity, during which he forgot all his cares and perplexities, the sordidness of modern life and, even his own personality. He said that John's soul seemed superior to his, possessing a more virile attraction, for in any event all that day on the lake was spent in spiritual wanderings and wonderings with the old In- dian, the result being a rest and peace that were delightful. In a letter from Mr. Arthur H. Lowe of Fitchburg, Mass., received since I wrote the above, the same thought is apparent. Referring to John's death, he writes, "I too loved old John. I loved to be with him alone. He was different from men who trade and traffic." What more could be said of a man than this, "I loved to be with him alone?" That is an exquisite tribute. Truly there is a rare charm in the character of a good man, a charm merely attractive at first like beauty in flowers and children but which leads on acquaintance to affection. The character of a man is the co-ordinate manifestation of his physi- cal and spiritual personality. A human being brings with him into organic existence certain inherited tendencies or character- istics and as he progresses through life he adds to these or casts them off acting in accord with the laws of attraction and re- pulsion. As he proceeds through life, therefore, he becomes constantly better or worse. In the one case his nature is re- ceptive to and in harmony with whatever is good and in the other he attracts and is attracted by whatever is evil. The soul of a man is the immortal life germ colored and influenced by the physical forces in the midst of which it exists. John Antoine was born with fine inherited qualities. He grew and developed like a splendid tree, drawing from the sun- shine itself what was best for him, holding his head always erect, proud of his honor, throwing off as he went through life such evil tendencies as had attached themselves to him in his youth, sloughing off his sins one by one as did the ancient Hindoo prince who climbed the mountains into Heaven, arriving there free of every mortal thing but love. Now he has gone. It is well that his fellow country folk should know what I, his comrade and his friend, knew of him through long years of intimate association, because he was an honor to manhood, a chevalier of the land of lakes and for- ests, a natural gentleman, and moreover it is instructive for us all to think that such lovable and attractive characteristics as were possessed by this old Indian may be attained by per- mitting Nature to take possession of us and guide us along her pleasant ways.