{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_11547/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_11547","id":"gutenberg_11547","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11547","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore","Indians of North America -- Folklore","Native America","Siksika Indians -- Folklore","Tales -- Great Plains"],"text":"Juliet Sutherland, Thomas Hutchinson and PG Distributed Proofreaders\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBlackfoot Lodge Tales\n\n_The Story of a Prairie People_\n\nGEORGE BIRD GRINNELL\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nINDIANS AND THEIR STORIES\n\n\n\n_STORIES OF ADVENTURE_\n\n\nTHE PEACE WITH THE SNAKES\n\nTHE LOST WOMAN\n\nADVENTURES OF BULL TURNS ROUND\n\nK[)U]T-O'-YIS\n\nTHE BAD WIFE\n\nTHE LOST CHILDREN\n\nMIK-A'PI--RED OLD MAN\n\nHEAVY COLLAR AND THE GHOST WOMAN\n\nTHE WOLF-MAN\n\nTHE FAST RUNNERS\n\nTWO WAR TRAILS\n\n\n\n_STORIES OF ANCIENT TIMES_\n\n\nSCARFACE\n\nORIGIN OF THE I-KUN-UH'-KAH-TSI\n\nORIGIN OF THE MEDICINE PIPE\n\nTHE BEAVER MEDICINE\n\nTHE BUFFALO ROCK\n\nORIGIN OF THE WORM PIPE\n\nTHE GHOSTS' BUFFALO\n\n\n\n_STORIES OF OLD MAN_\n\n\nTHE BLACKFOOT GENESIS\n\nTHE DOG AND THE STICK\n\nTHE BEARS\n\nTHE WONDERFUL BIRD\n\nTHE RACE\n\nTHE BAD WEAPONS\n\nTHE ELK\n\nOLD MAN DOCTORS\n\nTHE ROCK\n\nTHE THEFT FROM THE SUN\n\nTHE FOX\n\nOLD MAN AND THE LYNX\n\n\n\n_THE STORY OF THE THREE TRIBES_.\n\n\nTHE PAST AND THE PRESENT\n\nDAILY LIFE AND CUSTOMS\n\nHOW THE BLACKFOOT LIVED\n\nSOCIAL ORGANIZATION\n\nHUNTING\n\nTHE BLACKFOOT IN WAR\n\nRELIGION\n\nMEDICINE PIPES AND HEALING\n\nTHE BLACKFOOT OF TO-DAY\n\n\n\n\n\nBLACKFOOT LODGE TALES\n\n\n\n\n\nWe were sitting about the fire in the lodge on Two Medicine. Double Runner,\nSmall Leggings, Mad Wolf, and the Little Blackfoot were smoking and\ntalking, and I was writing in my note-book. As I put aside the book, and\nreached out my hand for the pipe, Double Runner bent over and picked up a\nscrap of printed paper, which had fallen to the ground. He looked at it for\na moment without speaking, and then, holding it up and calling me by name,\nsaid:--\n\n\"_Pi-nut-\u00fa-ye is-ts\u00edm-okan,_ this is education. Here is the difference\nbetween you and me, between the Indians and the white people. You know what\nthis means. I do not. If I did know, I should be as smart as you. If all\nmy people knew, the white people would not always get the best of us.\"\n\n\"_N\u00edsah_ (elder brother), your words are true. Therefore you ought to see\nthat your children go to school, so that they may get the white man's\nknowledge. When they are men, they will have to trade with the white\npeople; and if they know nothing, they can never get rich. The times have\nchanged. It will never again be as it was when you and I were young.\"\n\n\"You say well, _Pi-nut-\u00fa-ye is-ts\u00edm-okan,_ I have seen the days; and I know\nit is so. The old things are passing away, and the children of my children\nwill be like white people. None of them will know how it used to be in\ntheir father's days unless they read the things which we have told you, and\nwhich you are all the time writing down in your books.\"\n\n\"They are all written down, _N\u00edsah_, the story of the three tribes,\nS\u00edk-si-kau, Ka\u00ednah, and Pik[)u]ni.\"\n\n\n\n\nINDIANS AND THEIR STORIES\n\n\nThe most shameful chapter of American history is that in which is recorded\nthe account of our dealings with the Indians. The story of our government's\nintercourse with this race is an unbroken narrative of injustice, fraud,\nand robbery. Our people have disregarded honesty and truth whenever they\nhave come in contact with the Indian, and he has had no rights because he\nhas never had the power to enforce any.\n\nProtests against governmental swindling of these savages have been made\nagain and again, but such remonstrances attract no general\nattention. Almost every one is ready to acknowledge that in the past the\nIndians have been shamefully robbed, but it appears to be believed that\nthis no longer takes place. This is a great mistake. We treat them now much\nas we have always treated them. Within two years, I have been present on a\nreservation where government commissioners, by means of threats, by bribes\ngiven to chiefs, and by casting fraudulently the votes of absentees,\nsucceeded after months of effort in securing votes enough to warrant them\nin asserting that a tribe of Indians, entirely wild and totally ignorant of\nfarming, had consented to sell their lands, and to settle down each upon\n160 acres of the most utterly arid and barren land to be found on the North\nAmerican continent. The fraud perpetrated on this tribe was as gross as\ncould be practised by one set of men upon another. In a similar way the\nSouthern Utes were recently induced to consent to give up their reservation\nfor another.\n\n\nAmericans are a conscientious people, yet they take no interest in these\nfrauds. They have the Anglo-Saxon spirit of fair play, which sympathizes\nwith weakness, yet no protest is made against the oppression which the\nIndian suffers. They are generous; a famine in Ireland, Japan, or Russia\narouses the sympathy and calls forth the bounty of the nation, yet they\ngive no heed to the distress of the Indians, who are in the very midst of\nthem. They do not realize that Indians are human beings like themselves.\n\nFor this state of things there must be a reason, and this reason is to be\nfound, I believe, in the fact that practically no one has any personal\nknowledge of the Indian race. The few who are acquainted with them are\nneither writers nor public speakers, and for the most part would find it\neasier to break a horse than to write a letter. If the general public knows\nlittle of this race, those who legislate about them are equally\nignorant. From the congressional page who distributes the copies of a\npending bill, up through the representatives and senators who vote for it,\nto the president whose signature makes the measure a law, all are entirely\nunacquainted with this people or their needs.\n\nMany stories about Indians have been written, some of which are interesting\nand some, perhaps, true. All, however, have been written by civilized\npeople, and have thus of necessity been misleading. The reason for this is\nplain. The white person who gives his idea of a story of Indian life\ninevitably looks at things from the civilized point of view, and assigns to\nthe Indian such motives and feelings as govern the civilized man. But often\nthe feelings which lead an Indian to perform a particular action are not\nthose which would induce a white man to do the same thing, or if they are,\nthe train of reasoning which led up to the Indian's motive is not the\nreasoning of the white man.\n\nIn a volume about the Pawnees,[1] I endeavored to show how Indians think\nand feel by letting some of them tell their own stories in their own\nfashion, and thus explain in their own way how they look at the every-day\noccurrences of their life, what motives govern them, and how they reason.\n\n[Footnote 1: Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk-Tales.]\n\nIn the present volume, I treat of another race of Indians in precisely the\nsame way. I give the Blackfoot stories as they have been told to me by the\nIndians themselves, not elaborating nor adding to them. In all cases except\none they were written down as they fell from the lips of the storyteller.\nSometimes I have transposed a sentence or two, or have added a few words of\nexplanation; but the stories as here given are told in the words of the\noriginal narrators as nearly as it is possible to render those words into\nthe simplest every-day English. These are Indians' stories, pictures of\nIndian life drawn by Indian artists, and showing this life from the\nIndian's point of view. Those who read these stories will have the\nnarratives just as they came to me from the lips of the Indians themselves;\nand from the tales they can get a true notion of the real man who is\nspeaking. He is not the Indian of the newspapers, nor of the novel, nor of\nthe Eastern sentimentalist, nor of the Western boomer, but the real Indian\nas he is in his daily life among his own people, his friends, where he is\nnot embarrassed by the presence of strangers, nor trying to produce\neffects, but is himself--the true, natural man.\n\nAnd when you are talking with your Indian friend, as you sit beside him and\nsmoke with him on the bare prairie during a halt in the day's march, or at\nnight lie at length about your lonely camp fire in the mountains, or form\none of a circle of feasters in his home lodge, you get very near to\nnature. Some of the sentiments which he expresses may horrify your\ncivilized mind, but they are not unlike those which your own small boy\nmight utter. The Indian talks of blood and wounds and death in a\ncommonplace, matter-of-fact way that may startle you. But these things used\nto be a part of his daily life; and even to-day you may sometimes hear a\ndried-up, palsied survivor of the ancient wars cackle out his shrill laugh\nwhen he tells as a merry jest, a bloodcurdling story of the torture he\ninflicted on some enemy in the long ago.\n\nI have elsewhere expressed my views on Indian character, the conclusions\nfounded on an acquaintance with this race extending over more than twenty\nyears, during which time I have met many tribes, with some of whom I have\nlived on terms of the closest intimacy.\n\nThe Indian is a man, not very different from his white brother, except that\nhe is undeveloped. In his natural state he is kind and affectionate in his\nfamily, is hospitable, honest and straightforward with his fellows,--a true\nfriend. If you are his guest, the best he has is at your disposal; if the\ncamp is starving, you will still have set before you your share of what\nfood there may be in the lodge. For his friend he will die, if need be. He\nis glad to perform acts of kindness for those he likes. While travelling in\nthe heats of summer over long, waterless stretches of prairie, I have had\nan Indian, who saw me suffering from thirst, leave me, without mentioning\nhis errand, and ride thirty miles to fetch me a canteen of cool water.\n\nThe Indian is intensely religious. No people pray more earnestly nor more\nfrequently. This is especially true of all Indians of the Plains.\n\nThe Indian has the mind and feelings of a child with the stature of a man;\nand if this is clearly understood and considered, it will readily account\nfor much of the bad that we hear about him, and for many of the evil traits\nwhich are commonly attributed to him. Civilized and educated, the Indian of\nthe better class is not less intelligent than the average white man, and he\nhas every capacity for becoming a good citizen.\n\nThis is the view held not only by myself, but by all of the many old\nfrontiersmen that I have known, who have had occasion to live much among\nIndians, and by most experienced army officers. It was the view held by my\nfriend and schoolmate, the lamented Lieutenant Casey, whose good work in\ntransforming the fierce Northern Cheyennes into United States soldiers is\nwell known among all officers of the army, and whose sad death by an Indian\nbullet has not yet, I believe, been forgotten by the public.\n\nIt is proper that something should be said as to how this book came to be\nwritten.\n\nAbout ten years ago, Mr. J.W. Schultz of Montana, who was then living in\nthe Blackfoot camp, contributed to the columns of the _Forest and Stream_,\nunder the title \"Life among the Blackfeet,\" a series of sketches of that\npeople. These papers seemed to me of unusual interest, and worthy a record\nin a form more permanent than the columns of a newspaper; but no\nopportunity was then presented for filling in the outlines given in them.\n\nShortly after this, I visited the Pi-k[)u]n-i tribe of the Black-feet, and\nI have spent more or less time in their camps every year since. I have\nlearned to know well all their principal men, besides many of the Bloods\nand the Blackfeet, and have devoted much time and effort to the work of\naccumulating from their old men and best warriors the facts bearing on the\nhistory, customs, and oral literature of the tribe, which are presented in\nthis volume.\n\nIn 1889 my book on the Pawnees was published, and seemed to arouse so much\ninterest in Indian life, from the Indian's standpoint, that I wrote to\nMr. Schultz, urging him, as I had often done before, to put his\nobservations in shape for publication, and offered to edit his work, and to\nsee it through the press. Mr. Schultz was unwilling to undertake this task,\nand begged me to use all the material which I had gathered, and whatever he\ncould supply, in the preparation of a book about the Blackfeet.\n\nA portion of the material contained in these pages was originally made\npublic by Mr. Schultz, and he was thus the discoverer of the literature of\nthe Blackfeet. My own investigations have made me familiar with all the\nstories here recorded, from original sources, but some of them he first\npublished in the columns of the _Forest and Stream_. For this work he is\nentitled to great credit, for it is most unusual to find any one living the\nrough life beyond the frontier, and mingling in daily intercourse with\nIndians, who has the intelligence to study their traditions, history, and\ncustoms, and the industry to reduce his observations to writing.\n\nBesides the invaluable assistance given me by Mr. Schultz, I acknowledge\nwith gratitude the kindly aid of Miss Cora M. Ross, one of the school\nteachers at the Blackfoot agency, who has furnished me with a version of\nthe story of the origin of the Medicine Lodge; and of Mrs. Thomas Dawson,\nwho gave me help on the story of the Lost Children. William Jackson, an\neducated half-breed, who did good service from 1874 to 1879, scouting under\nGenerals Custer and Miles, and William Russell, half-breed, at one time\ngovernment interpreter at the agency, have both given me valuable\nassistance. The latter has always placed himself at my service, when I\nneeded an interpreter, while Mr. Jackson has been at great pains to assist\nme in securing several tales which I might not otherwise have obtained, and\nhas helped me in many ways. The veteran prairie man, Mr. Hugh Monroe, and\nhis son, John Monroe, have also given me much information. Most of the\nstories I owe to Blackfeet, Bloods, and Piegans of pure race. Some of these\nmen have died within the past few years, among them the kindly and\nvenerable Red Eagle; Almost-a-Dog, a noble old man who was regarded with\nrespect and affection by Indians and whites; and that matchless orator,\nFour Bears. Others, still living, to whom I owe thanks, are Wolf Calf, Big\nNose, Heavy Runner, Young Bear Chief, Wolf Tail, Rabid Wolf, Running\nRabbit, White Calf, All-are-his-Children, Double Runner, Lone Medicine\nPerson, and many others.\n\nThe stories here given cover a wide range of subjects, but are fair\nexamples of the oral literature of the Blackfeet. They deal with religion,\nthe origin of things, the performances of medicine men, the bravery and\nsingle-heartedness of warriors.\n\nIt will be observed that in more than one case two stories begin in the\nsame way, and for a few paragraphs are told in language which is almost\nidentical. In like manner it is often to be noted that in different stories\nthe same incidents occur. This is all natural enough, when it is remembered\nthat the range of the Indians' experiences is very narrow. The incidents\nof camp life, of hunting and war excursions, do not offer a very wide\nvariety of conditions; and of course the stories of the people deal chiefly\nwith matters with which they are familiar. They are based on the every-day\nlife of the narrators.\n\nThe reader of these Blackfoot stories will not fail to notice many curious\nresemblances to tales told among other distant and different peoples. Their\nsimilarity to those current among the Ojibwas, and other Eastern Algonquin\ntribes, is sufficiently obvious and altogether to be expected, nor is it at\nall remarkable that we should find, among the Blackfeet, tales identical\nwith those told by tribes of different stock far to the south; but it is a\nlittle startling to see in the story of the Worm Pipe a close parallel to\nthe classical myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. In another of the stories is an\nincident which might have been taken bodily from the Odyssey.\n\nWell-equipped students of general folk-lore will find in these tales much\nto interest them, and to such may be left the task of commenting on this\ncollection.\n\n\n\n\nSTORIES OF ADVENTURE\n\n\n\nTHE PEACE WITH THE SNAKES\n\n\nI\n\nIn those days there was a Piegan chief named Owl Bear. He was a great\nchief, very brave and generous. One night he had a dream: he saw many dead\nbodies of the enemy lying about, scalped, and he knew that he must go to\nwar. So he called out for a feast, and after the people had eaten, he\nsaid:--\n\n\"I had a strong dream last night. I went to war against the Snakes, and\nkilled many of their warriors. So the signs are good, and I feel that I\nmust go. Let us have a big party now, and I will be the leader. We will\nstart to-morrow night.\"\n\nThen he told two old men to go out in the camp and shout the news, so that\nall might know. A big party was made up. Two hundred men, they say, went\nwith this chief to war. The first night they travelled only a little way,\nfor they were not used to walking, and soon got tired.\n\nIn the morning the chief got up early and went and made a sacrifice, and\nwhen he came back to the others, some said, \"Come now, tell us your dream\nof this night.\"\n\n\"I dreamed good,\" said Owl Bear. \"I had a good dream. We will have good\nluck.\"\n\nBut many others said they had bad dreams. They saw blood running from their\nbodies.\n\nNight came, and the party started on, travelling south, and keeping near\nthe foot-hills; and when daylight came, they stopped in thick pine woods\nand built war lodges. They put up poles as for a lodge, and covered them\nvery thick with pine boughs, so they could build fires and cook, and no one\nwould see the light and smoke; and they all ate some of the food they\ncarried, and then went to sleep.\n\nAgain the chief had a good dream, but the others all had bad dreams, and\nsome talked about turning back; but Owl Bear laughed at them, and when\nnight came, all started on. So they travelled for some nights, and all\nkept dreaming bad except the chief. He always had good dreams. One day\nafter a sleep, a person again asked Owl Bear if he dreamed good. \"Yes,\" he\nreplied. \"I have again dreamed of good luck.\"\n\n\"We still dream bad,\" the person said, \"and now some of us are going to\nturn back. We will go no further, for bad luck is surely ahead.\" \"Go back!\ngo back!\" said Owl Bear. \"I think you are cowards; I want no cowards with\nme.\" They did not speak again. Many of them turned around, and started\nnorth, toward home.\n\nTwo more days' travel. Owl Bear and his warriors went on, and then another\nparty turned back, for they still had bad dreams. All the men now left with\nhim were his relations. All the others had turned back.\n\nThey travelled on, and travelled on, always having bad dreams, until they\ncame close to the Elk River.[1] Then the oldest relation said, \"Come, my\nchief, let us all turn back. We still have bad dreams. We cannot have good\nluck.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: Yellowstone River.]\n\n\"No,\" replied Owl Bear, \"I will not turn back.\"\n\nThen they were going to seize him and tie his hands, for they had talked of\nthis before. They thought to tie him and make him go back with them. Then\nthe chief got very angry. He put an arrow on his bow, and said: \"Do not\ntouch me. You are my relations; but if any of you try to tie me, I will\nkill you. Now I am ashamed. My relations are cowards and will turn back. I\nhave told you I have always dreamed good, and that we would have good luck.\nNow I don't care; I am covered with shame. I am going now to the Snake camp\nand will give them my body. I am ashamed. Go! go! and when you get home put\non women's dresses. You are no longer men.\"\n\nThey said no more. They turned back homeward, and the chief was all\nalone. His heart was very sad as he travelled on, and he was much ashamed,\nfor his relations had left him.\n\n\nII\n\nNight was coming on. The sun had set and rain was beginning to fall. Owl\nBear looked around for some place where he could sleep dry. Close by he saw\na hole in the rocks. He got down on his hands and knees and crept in. Here\nit was very dark. He could see nothing, so he crept very slowly, feeling as\nhe went. All at once his hand touched something strange. He felt of it. It\nwas a person's foot, and there was a moccasin on it. He stopped, and sat\nstill. Then he felt a little further. Yes, it was a person's leg. He could\nfeel the cowskin legging. Now he did not know what to do. He thought\nperhaps it was a dead person; and again, he thought it might be one of his\nrelations, who had become ashamed and turned back after him.\n\nPretty soon he put his hand on the leg again and felt along up. He touched\nthe person's belly. It was warm. He felt of the breast, and could feel it\nrise and fall as the breath came and went; and the heart was beating\nfast. Still the person did not move. Maybe he was afraid. Perhaps he\nthought that was a ghost feeling of him.\n\nOwl Bear now knew this person was not dead. He thought he would try if he\ncould learn who the man was, for he was not afraid. His heart was sad. His\npeople and his relations had left him, and he had made up his mind to give\nhis body to the Snakes. So he began and felt all over the man,--of his\nface, hair, robe, leggings, belt, weapons; and by and by he stopped feeling\nof him. He could not tell whether it was one of his people or not.\n\nPretty soon the strange person sat up and felt all over Owl Bear; and when\nhe had finished, he took the Piegan's hand and opened it and held it up,\nwaving it from side to side, saying by signs, \"Who are you?\"\n\nOwl Bear put his closed hand against the person's cheek and rubbed it; he\nsaid in signs, \"Piegan!\" and then he asked the person who he was. A finger\nwas placed against his breast and moved across it _zigzag_. It was the sign\nfor \"Snake.\"\n\n\"_Hai yah_!\" thought Owl Bear, \"a Snake, my enemy.\" For a long time he sat\nstill, thinking. By and by he drew his knife from his belt and placed it in\nthe Snake's hand, and signed, \"Kill me!\" He waited. He thought soon his\nheart would be cut. He wanted to die. Why live? His people had left him.\n\nThen the Snake took Owl Bear's hand and put a knife in it and motioned that\nOwl Bear should cut his heart, but the Piegan would not do it. He lay down,\nand the Snake lay down beside him. Maybe they slept. Likely not.\n\nSo the night went and morning came. It was light, and they crawled out of\nthe cave, and talked a long time together by signs. Owl Bear told the Snake\nwhere he had come from, how his party had dreamed bad and left him, and\nthat he was going alone to give his body to the Snakes.\n\nThen the Snake said: \"_I_ was going to war, too. I was going against the\nPiegans. Now I am done. Are you a chief?\"\n\n\"I am the head chief,\" replied Owl Bear. \"I lead. All the others follow.\"\n\n\"I am the same as you,\" said the Snake. \"I am the chief. I like you. You\nare brave. You gave me your knife to kill you with. How is your heart?\nShall the Snakes and the Piegans make peace?\"\n\n\"Your words are good,\" replied Owl Bear. \"I am glad.\"\n\n\"How many nights will it take you to go home and come back here with your\npeople?\" asked the Snake.\n\nOwl Bear thought and counted. \"In twenty-five nights,\" he replied, \"the\nPiegans will camp down by that creek.\"\n\n\"My trail,\" said the Snake, \"goes across the mountains. I will try to be\nhere in twenty-five nights, but I will camp with my people just behind that\nfirst mountain. When you get here with the Piegans, come with one of your\nwives and stay all night with me. In the morning the Snakes will move and\nput up their lodges beside the Piegans.\"\n\n\"As you say,\" replied the chief, \"so it shall be done.\" Then they built a\nfire and cooked some meat and ate together.\n\n\"I am ashamed to go home,\" said Owl Bear. \"I have taken no horses, no\nscalps. Let me cut off your side locks?\"\n\n\"Take them,\" said the Snake.\n\nOwl Bear cut off the chiefs braids close to his head, and then the Snake\ncut off the Piegan's braids. Then they exchanged clothes and weapons and\nstarted out, the Piegan north, the Snake south.\n\n\nIII\n\n\"Owl Bear has come! Owl Bear has come!\" the people were shouting.\n\nThe warriors rushed to his lodge. _Whish_! how quickly it was filled!\nHundreds stood outside, waiting to hear the news.\n\nFor a long time the chief did not speak. He was still angry with his\npeople. An old man was talking, telling the news of the camp. Owl Bear did\nnot look at him. He ate some food and rested. Many were in the lodge who\nhad started to war with him. They were now ashamed. They did not speak,\neither, but kept looking at the fire. After a long time the chief said: \"I\ntravelled on alone. I met a Snake. I took his scalp and clothes, and his\nweapons. See, here is his scalp!\" And he held up the two braids of hair.\n\nNo one spoke, but the chief saw them nudge each other and smile a little;\nand soon they went out and said to one another: \"What a lie! That is not an\nenemy's scalp; there is no flesh on it He has robbed some dead person.\"\n\nSome one told the chief what they said, but he only laughed and replied:--\n\n\"_I_ do not care. They were too much afraid even to go on and rob a dead\nperson. They should wear women's dresses.\"\n\nNear sunset, Owl Bear called for a horse, and rode all through camp so\nevery one could hear, shouting out: \"Listen! listen! To-morrow we move\ncamp. We travel south. The Piegans and Snakes are going to make peace. If\nany one refuses to go, I will kill him. All must go.\"\n\nThen an old medicine man came up to him and said: \"_Kyi_, Owl Bear! listen\nto me. Why talk like this? You know we are not afraid of the Snakes. Have\nwe not fought them and driven them out of this country? Do you think we are\nafraid to go and meet them? No. We will go and make peace with them as you\nsay, and if they want to fight, we will fight. Now you are angry with those\nwho started to war with you. Don't be angry. Dreams belong to the Sun. He\ngave them to us, so that we can see ahead and know what will happen. The\nPiegans are not cowards. Their dreams told them to turn back. So do not be\nangry with them any more.\"\n\n\"There is truth in what you say, old man,\" replied Owl Bear; \"I will take\nyour words.\"\n\n\nIV\n\nIn those days the Piegans were a great tribe. When they travelled, if you\nwere with the head ones, you could not see the last ones, they were so far\nback. They had more horses than they could count, so they used fresh horses\nevery day and travelled very fast. On the twenty-fourth day they reached\nthe place where Owl Bear had told the Snake they would camp, and put up\ntheir lodges along the creek. Soon some young men came in, and said they\nhad seen some fresh horse trails up toward the mountain.\n\n\"It must be the Snakes,\" said the chief; \"they have already arrived,\nalthough there is yet one night.\" So he called one of his wives, and\ngetting on their horses they set out to find the Snake camp. They took the\ntrail up over the mountain, and soon came in sight of the lodges. It was a\nbig camp. Every open place in the valley was covered with lodges, and the\nhills were dotted with horses; for the Snakes had a great many more horses\nthan the Piegans.\n\nSome of the Snakes saw the Piegans coming, and they ran to the chief,\nsaying: \"Two strangers are in sight, coming this way. What shall be done?\"\n\n\"Do not harm them,\" replied the chief. \"They are friends of mine. I have\nbeen expecting them.\" Then the Snakes wondered, for the chief had told them\nnothing about his war trip.\n\nNow when Owl Bear had come to the camp, he asked in signs for the chiefs\nlodge, and they pointed him to one in the middle. It was small and old. The\nPiegan got off his horse, and the Snake chief came out and hugged him and\nkissed him, and said: \"I am glad you have come to-day to my lodge. So are\nmy people. You are tired. Enter my lodge and we will eat.\" So they went\ninside and many of the Snakes came in, and they had a great feast.\n\nThen the Snake chief told his people how he had met the Piegan, and how\nbrave he was, and that now they were going to make a great peace; and he\nsent some men to tell the people, so that they would be ready to move camp\nin the morning. Evening came. Everywhere people were shouting out for\nfeasts, and the chief took Owl Bear to them. It was very late when they\nreturned. Then the Snake had one of his wives make a bed at the back of the\nlodge; and when it was ready he said: \"Now, my friend, there is your\nbed. This is now your lodge; also the woman who made the bed, she is now\nyour wife; also everything in this lodge is yours. The parfleches, saddles,\nfood, robes, bowls, everything is yours. I give them to you because you are\nmy friend and a brave man.\"\n\n\"You give me too much,\" replied Owl Bear. \"I am ashamed, but I take your\nwords. I have nothing with me but one wife. She is yours.\"\n\nNext morning camp was broken early. The horses were driven in, and the\nSnake chief gave Owl Bear his whole band,--two hundred head, all large,\npowerful horses.\n\nAll were now ready, and the chiefs started ahead. Close behind them were\nall the warriors, hundreds and hundreds, and last came the women and\nchildren, and the young men driving the loose horses. As they came in sight\nof the Piegan camp, all the warriors started out to meet them, dressed in\ntheir war costumes and singing the great war song. There was no wind, and\nthe sound came across the valley and up the hill like the noise of\nthunder. Then the Snakes began to sing, and thus the two parties advanced.\nAt last they met. The Piegans turned and rode beside them, and so they came\nto the camp. Then they got off their horses and kissed each other. Every\nPiegan asked a Snake into his lodge to eat and rest, and the Snake women\nput up their lodges beside the Piegan lodges. So the great peace was made.\n\nIn Owl Bear's lodge there was a great feast, and when they had finished he\nsaid to his people: \"Here is the man whose scalp I took. Did I say I killed\nhim? No. I gave him my knife and told him to kill me. He would not do it;\nand he gave me his knife, but I would not kill him. So we talked together\nwhat we should do, and now we have made peace. And now (turning to the\nSnake) this is your lodge, also all the things in it. My horses, too, I\ngive you. All are yours.\"\n\nSo it was. The Piegan took the Snake's wife, lodge, and horses, and the\nSnake took the Piegan's, and they camped side by side. All the people\ncamped together, and feasted each other and made presents. So the peace was\nmade.\n\n\nV\n\nFor many days they camped side by side. The young men kept hunting, and the\nwomen were always busy drying meat and tanning robes and cowskins. Buffalo\nwere always close, and after a while the people had all the meat and robes\nthey could carry. Then, one day, the Snake chief said to Owl Bear: \"Now, my\nfriend, we have camped a long time together, and I am glad we have made\npeace. We have dug a hole in the ground, and in it we have put our anger\nand covered it up, so there is no more war between us. And now I think it\ntime to go. To-morrow morning the Snakes break camp and go back south.\"\n\n\"Your words are good,\" replied Owl Bear. \"I too am glad we have made this\npeace. You say you must go south, and I feel lonesome. I would like you to\ngo with us so we could camp together a long time, but as you say, so it\nshall be done. To-morrow you will start south. I too shall break camp, for\nI would be lonesome here without you; and the Piegans will start in the\nhome direction.\"\n\nThe lodges were being taken down and packed. The men sat about the\nfireplaces, taking a last smoke together.\n\nThey were now great friends. Many Snakes had married Piegan women, and many\nPiegans had married Snake women. At last all was ready. The great chiefs\nmounted their horses and started out, and soon both parties were strung out\non the trail.\n\nSome young men, however, stayed behind to gamble a while. It was yet early\nin the morning, and by riding fast it would not take them long to catch up\nwith their camps. All day they kept playing; and sometimes the Piegans\nwould win, and sometimes the Snakes.\n\nIt was now almost sunset. \"Let us have one horse race,\" they said, \"and we\nwill stop.\" Each side had a good horse, and they ran their best; but they\ncame in so close together it could not be told who won. The Snakes claimed\nthat their horse won, and the Piegans would not allow it. So they got\nangry and began to quarrel, and pretty soon they began to fight and to\nshoot at each other, and some were killed.\n\nSince that time the Snakes and Piegans have never been at peace.\n\n\n\nTHE LOST WOMAN\n\n\nI\n\nA long time ago the Blackfeet were camped on Backfat Creek. There was in\nthe camp a man who had but one wife, and he thought a great deal of her. He\nnever wanted to have two wives. As time passed they had a child, a little\ngirl. Along toward the end of the summer, this man's wife wanted to get\nsome berries, and she asked her husband to take her to a certain place\nwhere berries grew, so that she could get some. The man said to his wife:\n\"At this time of the year, I do not like to go to that place to pick\nberries. There are always Snake or Crow war parties travelling about\nthere.\" The woman wanted very much to go, and she coaxed her husband about\nit a great deal; and at last he said he would go, and they started, and\nmany women followed them.\n\nWhen they came to where the berries grew, the man said to his wife: \"There\nare the berries down in that ravine. You may go down there and pick them,\nand I will go up on this hill and stand guard. If I see any one coming, I\nwill call out to you, and you must all get on your horses and run.\" So the\nwomen went down to pick berries.\n\nThe man went up on the hill and sat down and looked over the country. After\na little time, he looked down into another ravine not far off, and saw that\nit was full of horsemen coming. They started to gallop up towards him, and\nhe called out in a loud voice, \"Run, run, the enemy is rushing on us.\" The\nwomen started to run, and he jumped on his horse and followed them. The\nenemy rushed after them, and he drew his bow and arrows, and got ready to\nfight and defend the women. After they had gone a little way, the enemy had\ngained so much that they were shooting at the Blackfeet with their arrows,\nand the man was riding back and forth behind the women, and whipping up the\nhorses, now of one, now of another, to make them go faster. The enemy kept\ngetting closer, and at last they were so near that they were beginning to\nthrust at him with their lances, and he was dodging them and throwing\nhimself down, now on one side of his horse, and then on the other.\n\nAt length he found that he could no longer defend all the women, so he made\nup his mind to leave those that had the slowest horses to the mercy of the\nenemy, while he would go on with those that had the faster ones. When he\nfound that he must leave the women, he was excited and rode on ahead; but\nas he passed, he heard some one call out to him, \"Don't leave me,\" and he\nlooked to one side, and saw that he was leaving his wife. When he heard his\nwife call out thus to him, he said to her: \"There is no life for me\nhere. You are a fine-looking woman. They will not kill you, but there is no\nlife for me.\" She answered: \"No, take pity on me. Do not leave me. My horse\nis giving out. Let us both get on one horse and then, if we are caught, we\nwill die together.\" When he heard this, his heart was touched and he said:\n\"No, wife, I will not leave you. Run up beside my horse and jump on behind\nme.\" The enemy were now so near that they had killed or captured some of\nthe women, and they had come up close enough to the man so that they got\nready to hit at him with their war clubs. His horse was now wounded in\nplaces with arrows, but it was a good, strong, fast horse.\n\nHis wife rode up close to him, and jumped on his horse behind him. When he\nstarted to run with her, the enemy had come up on either side of him, and\nsome were behind him, but they were afraid to shoot their arrows for fear\nof hitting their own people, so they struck at the man with their war\nclubs. But they did not want to kill the woman, and they did not hurt\nhim. They reached out with their hands to try to pull the woman off the\nhorse; but she had put her arms around her husband and held on tight, and\nthey could not get her off, but they tore her clothing off her. As she held\nher husband, he could not use his arrows, and could not fight to defend\nhimself. His horse was now going very slowly, and all the enemy had caught\nup to them, and were all around them.\n\nThe man said to his wife: \"Never mind, let them take you: they will not\nkill you. You are too handsome a woman for them to kill you.\" His wife\nsaid, \"No, it is no harm for us both to die together.\" When he saw that his\nwife would not get off the horse and that he could not fight, he said to\nher: \"Here, look out! You are crowding me on to the neck of the horse. Sit\nfurther back.\" He began to edge himself back, and at last, when he got his\nwife pretty far back on the horse, he gave a great push and shoved her off\nbehind. When she fell off, his horse had more speed and began to run away\nfrom the enemy, and he would shoot back his arrows; and now, when they\nwould ride up to strike him with their hatchets, he would shoot them and\nkill them, and they began to be afraid of him, and to edge away from\nhim. His horse was very long-winded; and now, as he was drawing away from\nthe enemy, there were only two who were yet able to keep up with him. The\nrest were being left behind, and they stopped, and went back to where the\nothers had killed or captured the women; and now only two men were\npursuing.\n\nAfter a little while, the Blackfoot jumped off his horse to fight on foot,\nand the two enemies rode up on either side of him, but a long way off, and\njumped off their horses. When he saw the two on either side of him, he took\na sheaf of arrows in his hand and began to rush, first toward the one on\nthe right, and then toward the one on the left. As he did this, he saw that\none of the men, when he ran toward him and threatened to shoot, would draw\naway from him, while the other would stand still. Then he knew that one of\nthem was a coward and the other a brave man. But all the time they were\nclosing in on him. When he saw that they were closing in on him, he made a\nrush at the brave man. This one was shooting arrows all the time; but the\nBlackfoot did not shoot until he got close to him, and then he shot an\narrow into him and ran up to him and hit him with his stone axe and killed\nhim. Then he turned to the cowardly one and ran at him. The man turned to\nrun, but the Blackfoot caught him and hit him with his axe and killed him.\n\nAfter he had killed them, he scalped them and took their arrows, their\nhorses, and the stone knives that they had. Then he went home, and when he\nrode into the camp he was crying over the loss of his wife. When he came to\nhis lodge and got off his horse, his friends went up to him and asked what\nwas the matter. He told them how all the women had been killed, and how he\nhad been pursued by two enemies, and had fought with them and killed them\nboth, and he showed them the arrows and the horses and the scalps. He told\nthe women's relations that they had all been killed; and all were in great\nsorrow, and crying over the loss of their friends.\n\nThe next morning they held a council, and it was decided that a party\nshould go out and see where the battle had been, and find out what had\nbecome of the women. When they got to the place, they found all the women\nthere dead, except this man's wife. Her they could not find. They also\nfound the two Indians that the man had said that he had killed, and,\nbesides, many others that he had killed when he was running away.\n\n\nII\n\nWhen he got back to the camp, this Blackfoot picked up his child and put it\non his back, and walked round the camp mourning and crying, and the child\ncrying, for four days and four nights, until he was exhausted and worn out,\nand then he fell asleep. When the rest of the people saw him walking about\nmourning, and that he would not eat nor drink, their hearts were very sore,\nand they felt very sorry for him and for the child, for he was a man\ngreatly thought of by the people.\n\nWhile he lay there asleep, the chief of the camp came to him and woke him,\nand said: \"Well, friend, what have you decided on? What is your mind? What\nare you going to do?\" The man answered: \"My child is lonely. It will not\neat. It is crying for its mother. It will not notice any one. I am going\nto look for my wife.\" The chief said, \"I cannot say anything.\" He went\nabout to all the lodges and told the people that this man was going away to\nseek his wife.\n\nNow there was in the camp a strong medicine man, who was not married and\nwould not marry at all. He had said, \"When I had my dream, it told me that\nI must never have a wife.\" The man who had lost his wife had a very\nbeautiful sister, who had never married. She was very proud and very\nhandsome. Many men had wanted to marry her, but she would not have anything\nto do with any man. The medicine man secretly loved this handsome girl, the\nsister of the poor man. When he heard of this poor man's misfortune, the\nmedicine man was in great sorrow, and cried over it. He sent word to the\npoor man, saying: \"Go and tell this man that I have promised never to take\na wife, but that if he will give me his beautiful sister, he need not go to\nlook for his wife. I will send my secret helper in search of her.\"\n\nWhen the young girl heard what this medicine man had said, she sent word to\nhim, saying, \"Yes, if you bring my brother's wife home, and I see her\nsitting here by his side, I will marry you, but not before.\" But she did\nnot mean what she said. She intended to deceive him in some way, and not to\nmarry him at all. When the girl sent this message to him, the medicine man\nsent for her and her brother to come to his lodge. When they had come, he\nspoke to the poor man and said, \"If I bring your wife here, are you willing\nto give me your sister for my wife?\" The poor man answered, \"Yes.\" But the\nyoung girl kept quiet in his presence, and had nothing to say. Then the\nmedicine man said to them: \"Go. To-night in the middle of the night you\nwill hear me sing.\" He sent everybody out of his lodge, and said to the\npeople: \"I will close the door of my lodge, and I do not want any one to\ncome in to-night, nor to look through the door. A spirit will come to me\nto-night.\" He made the people know, by a sign put out before the door of\nhis lodge, that no one must enter it, until such time as he was through\nmaking his medicine. Then he built a fire, and began to get out all his\nmedicine. He unwrapped his bundle and took out his pipe and his rattles and\nhis other things. After a time, the fire burned down until it was only\ncoals and his lodge was dark, and on the fire he threw sweet-scented herbs,\nsweet grass, and sweet pine, so as to draw his dream-helper to him.\n\nNow in the middle of the night he was in the lodge singing, when suddenly\nthe people heard a strange voice in the lodge say: \"Well, my chief, I have\ncome. What is it?\" The medicine man said, \"I want you to help me.\" The\nvoice said, \"Yes, I know it, and I know what you want me to do.\" The\nmedicine man asked, \"What is it?\" The voice said, \"You want me to go and\nget a woman.\" The medicine man answered: \"That is what I want. I want you\nto go and get a woman--the lost woman.\" The voice said to him, \"Did I not\ntell you never to call me, unless you were in great need of my help?\" The\nmedicine man answered, \"Yes, but that girl that was never going to be\nmarried is going to be given to me through your help.\" Then the voice\nsaid, \"Oh!\" and it was silent for a little while. Then it went on and said:\n\"Well, we have a good feeling for you, and you have been a long time not\nmarried; so we will help you to get that girl, and you will have her. Yes,\nwe have great pity on you. We will go and look for this woman, and will try\nto find her, but I cannot promise you that we will bring her; but we will\ntry. We will go, and in four nights I will be back here again at this same\ntime, and I think that I can bring the woman; but I will not promise. While\nI am gone, I will let you know how I get on. Now I am going away.\" And\nthen the people heard in the lodge a sound like a strong wind, and nothing\nmore. He was gone.\n\nSome people went and told the sister what the medicine man and the voice\nhad been saying, and the girl was very down-hearted, and cried over the\nidea that she must be married, and that she had been forced into it in this\nway.\n\n\nIII\n\nWhen the dream person went away, he came late at night to the camp of the\nSnakes, the enemy. The woman who had been captured was always crying over\nthe loss of her man and her child. She had another husband now. The man who\nhad captured her had taken her for his wife. As she was lying there, in her\nhusband's lodge, crying for sorrow for her loss, the dream person came to\nher. Her husband was asleep. The dream-helper touched her and pushed her a\nlittle, and she looked up and saw a person standing by her side; but she\ndid not know who it was. The person whispered in her ear, \"Get up, I want\nto take you home.\" She began to edge away from her husband, and at length\ngot up, and all the time the person was moving toward the door. She\nfollowed him out, and saw him walk away from the lodge, and she went\nafter. The person kept ahead, and the woman followed him, and they went\naway, travelling very fast. After they had travelled some distance, she\ncalled out to the dream person to stop, for she was getting tired. Then the\nperson stopped, and when he saw the woman sitting, he would sit down, but\nhe would not talk to her.\n\nAs they travelled on, the woman, when she got tired, would sit down, and\nbecause she was very tired, she would fall asleep; and when she awoke and\nlooked up, she always saw the person walking away from her, and she would\nget up and follow him. When day came, the shape would be far ahead of her,\nbut at night it would keep closer. When she spoke to this person, the\nwoman would call him \"young man.\" At one time she said to him, \"Young man,\nmy moccasins are all worn out, and my feet are getting very sore, and I am\nvery tired and hungry.\" When she had said this, she sat down and fell\nasleep, and as she was falling asleep, she saw the person going away from\nher. He went back to the lodge of the medicine man.\n\nDuring this night the camp heard the medicine man singing his song, and\nthey knew that the dream person must be back again, or that his chief must\nbe calling him. The medicine man had unwrapped his bundle, and had taken\nout all his things, and again had a fire of coals, on which he burned sweet\npine and sweet grass. Those who were listening heard a voice say: \"Well, my\nchief, I am back again, and I am here to tell you something. I am bringing\nthe woman you sent me after. She is very hungry and has no moccasins. Get\nme those things, and I will take them back to her.\" The medicine man went\nout of the lodge, and called to the poor man, who was mourning for his\nwife, that he wanted to see him. The man came, carrying the child on his\nback, to hear what the medicine man had to say. He said to him: \"Get some\nmoccasins and something to eat for your wife. I want to send them to\nher. She is coming.\" The poor man went to his sister, and told her to give\nhim some moccasins and some pemmican. She made a bundle of these things,\nand the man took them to the medicine man, who gave them to the dream\nperson; and again he disappeared out of the lodge like a wind.\n\n\nIV\n\nWhen the woman awoke in the morning and started to get up, she hit her face\nagainst a bundle lying by her, and when she opened it, she found in it\nmoccasins and some pemmican; and she put on the moccasins and ate, and\nwhile she was putting on the moccasins and eating, she looked over to where\nshe had last seen the person, and he was sitting there with his back toward\nher. She could never see his face. When she had finished eating, he got up\nand went on, and she rose and followed. They went on, and the woman\nthought, \"Now I have travelled two days and two nights with this young man,\nand I wonder what kind of a man he is. He seems to take no notice of me.\"\nSo she made up her mind to walk fast and to try to overtake him, and see\nwhat sort of a man he was. She started to do so, but however fast she\nwalked, it made no difference. She could not overtake him. Whether she\nwalked fast, or whether she walked slow, he was always the same distance\nfrom her. They travelled on until night, and then she lay down again and\nfell asleep. She dreamed that the young man had left her again.\n\nThe dream person had really left her, and had gone back to the medicine\nman's lodge, and said to him: \"Well, my chief, I am back again. I am\nbringing the woman. You must tell this poor man to get on his horse, and\nride back toward Milk River (the Teton). Let him go in among the high hills\non this side of the Muddy, and let him wait there until daylight, and look\ntoward the hills of Milk River; and after the sun is up a little way, he\nwill see a band of antelope running toward him, along the trail that the\nBlackfeet travel. It will be his wife who has frightened these\nantelope. Let him wait there for a while, and he will see a person\ncoming. This will be his wife. Then let him go to meet her, for she has no\nmoccasins. She will be glad to see him, for she is crying all the time.\"\n\nThe medicine man told the poor man this, and he got on his horse and\nstarted, as he had been told. He could not believe that it was true. But he\nwent. At last he got to the place, and a little while after the sun had\nrisen, as he was lying on a hill looking toward the hills of the Milk\nRiver, he saw a band of antelope running toward him, as he had been told he\nwould see. He lay there for a long time, but saw nothing else come in\nsight; and finally he got angry and thought that what had been told him was\na lie, and he got up to mount his horse and ride back. Just then he saw,\naway down, far off on the prairie, a small black speck, but he did not\nthink it was moving, it was so far off,--barely to be seen. He thought\nmaybe it was a rock. He lay down again and took sight on the speck by a\nstraw of grass in front of him, and looked for a long time, and after a\nwhile he saw the speck pass the straw, and then he knew it was\nsomething. He got on his horse and started to ride up and find out what it\nwas, riding way around it, through the hills and ravines, so that he would\nnot be seen. He rode up in a ravine behind it, pretty near to it, and then\nhe could see it was a person on foot. He got out his bow and arrows and\nheld them ready to use, and then started to ride up to it. He rode toward\nthe person, and at last he got near enough to see that it was his\nwife. When he saw this, he could not help crying; and as he rode up, the\nwoman looked back, and knew first the horse, and then her husband, and she\nwas so glad that she fell down and knew nothing.\n\nAfter she had come to herself and they had talked together, they got on the\nhorse and rode off toward camp. When he came over the hill in sight of\ncamp, all the people began to say, \"Here comes the man\"; and at last they\ncould see from a distance that he had some one on the horse behind him, and\nthey knew that it must be his wife, and they were glad to see him bringing\nher back, for he was a man thought a great deal of, and everybody liked him\nand liked his wife and the way he was kind to her.\n\nThen the handsome girl was given to the medicine man and became his wife.\n\n\n\nADVENTURES OF BULL TURNS ROUND\n\n\nI\n\nOnce the camp moved, but one lodge stayed. It belonged to Wolf Tail; and\nWolf Tail's younger brother, Bull Turns Round, lived with him. Now their\nfather loved both his sons, but he loved the younger one most, and when he\nwent away with the big camp, he said to Wolf Tail: \"Take care of your young\nbrother; he is not yet a strong person. Watch him that nothing befall him.\"\n\nOne day Wolf Tail was out hunting, and Bull Turns Round sat in front of the\nlodge making arrows, and a beautiful strange bird lit on the ground before\nhim. Then cried one of Wolf Tail's wives, \"Oh, brother, shoot that little\nbird.\" \"Don't bother me, sister,\" he replied, \"I am making arrows.\" Again\nthe woman said, \"Oh, brother, shoot that bird for me.\" Then Bull Turns\nRound fitted an arrow to his bow and shot the bird, and the woman went and\npicked it up and stroked her face with it, and her face swelled up so big\nthat her eyes and nose could not be seen. But when Bull Turns Round had\nshot the bird, he went off hunting and did not know what had happened to\nthe woman's face.\n\nNow when Wolf Tail came home and saw his wife's face, he said, \"What is the\nmatter?\" and his wife replied: \"Your brother has pounded me so that I\ncannot see. Go now and kill him.\" But Wolf Tail said, \"No, I love my\nbrother; I cannot kill him.\" Then his wife cried and said: \"I know you do\nnot love me; you are glad your brother has beaten me. If you loved me, you\nwould go and kill him.\"\n\nThen Wolf Tail went out and looked for his brother, and when he had found\nhim, he said: \"Come, let us get some feathers. I know where there is an\neagle's nest;\" and he took him to a high cliff, which overhung the river,\nand on the edge of this cliff was a dead tree, in the top of which the\neagles had built their nest. Then said Wolf Tail, \"Climb up, brother, and\nkill the eagles;\" and when Bull Turns Round had climbed nearly to the top,\nWolf Tail called out, \"I am going to push the tree over the cliff, and you\nwill be killed.\"\n\n\"Oh, brother! oh, brother! pity me; do not kill me,\" said Bull Turns Round.\n\n\"Why did you beat my wife's face so?\" said Wolf Tail.\n\n\"I didn't,\" cried the boy; \"I don't know what you are talking about.\"\n\n\"You lie,\" said Wolf Tail, and he pushed the tree over the cliff. He looked\nover and saw his brother fall into the water, and he did not come up\nagain. Then Wolf Tail went home and took down his lodge, and went to the\nmain camp. When his father saw him coming with only his wives, he said to\nhim, \"Where is your young brother?\" And Wolf Tail replied: \"He went hunting\nand did not come back. We waited four days for him. I think the bears must\nhave killed him.\"\n\n\nII\n\nNow when Bull Turns Round fell into the river, he was stunned, and the\nwater carried him a long way down the stream and finally lodged him on a\nsand shoal. Near this shoal was a lodge of Under Water People\n(_S[=u]'-y[=e]-t[)u]p'-pi_), an old man, his wife, and two daughters. This\nold man was very rich: he had great flocks of geese, swans, ducks, and\nother water-fowl, and a big herd of buffalo which were tame. These buffalo\nalways fed near by, and the old man called them every evening to come and\ndrink. But he and his family ate none of these. Their only food was the\nbloodsucker.[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Blackfoot--_Est'-st[)u]k-ki_, suck-bite; from _Est-ah-tope_,\nsuck, and _I-sik-st[)u]k-ki_, bite.]\n\nNow the old man's daughters were swimming about in the evening, and they\nfound Bull Turns Round lying on the shoal, dead, and they went home and\ntold their father, and begged him to bring the person to life, and give him\nto them for a husband. \"Go, my daughters,\" he said, \"and make four sweat\nlodges, and I will bring the person.\" He went and got Bull Turns Round, and\nwhen the sweat lodges were finished, the old man took him into one of them,\nand when he had sprinkled water on the hot rocks, he scraped a great\nquantity of sand off Bull Turns Round. Then he took him into another lodge\nand did the same thing, and when he had taken him into the fourth sweat\nlodge and scraped all the sand off him, Bull Turns Round came to life, and\nthe old man led him out and gave him to his daughters. And the old man gave\nhis son-in-law a new lodge and bows and arrows, and many good presents.\n\nThen the women cooked some bloodsuckers, and gave them to their husband,\nbut when he smelled of them he could not eat, and he threw them in the\nfire. Then his wives asked him what he would eat. \"Buffalo,\" he replied,\n\"is the only meat for men.\"\n\n\"Oh, father!\" cried the girls, running to the old man's lodge, \"our husband\nwill not eat our food. He says buffalo is the only meat for men.\"\n\n\"Go then, my daughters,\" said the old man, \"and tell your husband to kill a\nbuffalo, but do not take nor break any bones, for I will make it alive\nagain.\" Then the old man called the buffalo to come and drink, and Bull\nTurns Round shot a fat cow and took all the meat. And when he had roasted\nthe tongue, he gave each of his wives a small piece of it, and they liked\nit, and they roasted and ate plenty of the meat.\n\n\n\nIII\n\nOne day Bull Turns Round went to the old man and said, \"I mourn for my\nfather.\"\n\n\"How did you come to be dead on the sand shoal?\" asked the old man. Then\nBull Turns Round told what his brother had done to him.\n\n\"Take this piece of sinew,\" said the old man. \"Go and see your father. When\nyou throw this sinew on the fire, your brother and his wife will roll, and\ntwist up and die.\" Then the old man gave him a herd of buffalo, and many\ndogs to pack the lodge, and other things; and Bull Turns Round took his\nwives, and went to find his father.\n\nOne day, just after sunset, they came in sight of the big camp, and they\nwent and pitched the lodge on the top of a very high butte; and the buffalo\nfed close by, and there were so many of them that they covered the whole\nhill.\n\nNow the people were starving, and some had died, for they had no\nbuffalo. In the morning, early, a man arose whose son had starved to death,\nand when he went out and saw this lodge on the top of the hill, and all the\nbuffalo feeding by it, he cried out in a loud voice; and the people all\ncame out and looked at it, and they were afraid, for they thought it was\n_St[=o]n'-i-t[)a]p-i_.[1] Then said the man whose son had died: \"I am no\nlonger glad to live. I will go up to this lodge, and find out what this\nis.\" Now when he said this, all the men grasped their bows and arrows and\nfollowed him, and when they went up the hill, the buffalo just moved out of\ntheir path and kept on feeding; and just as they came to the lodge, Bull\nTurns Round came out, and all the people said, \"Here is the one whom we\nthought the bears had killed.\" Wolf Tail ran up, and said, \"Oh, brother,\nyou are not dead. You went to get feathers, but we thought you had been\nkilled.\" Then Bull Turns Round called his brother into the lodge, and he\nthrew the sinew on the fire; and Wolf Tail, and his wife, who was standing\noutside, twisted up and died.\n\n[Footnote 1: There is no word in English which corresponds to this. It is\nused when speaking of things wonderful or supernatural.]\n\nThen Bull Turns Round told his father all that had happened to him; and\nwhen he learned that the people were starving, he filled his mouth with\nfeathers and blew them out, and the buffalo ran off in every direction, and\nhe said to the people, \"There is food, go chase it.\" Then the people were\nvery glad, and they came each one and gave him a present. They gave him\nwar shirts, bows and arrows, shields, spears, white robes, and many curious\nthings.\n\n\n\n\nK[)U]T-O'-YIS\n\nLong ago, down where Two Medicine and Badger Creeks come together, there\nlived an old man. He had but one wife and two daughters. One day there came\nto his camp a young man who was very brave and a great hunter. The old man\nsaid: \"Ah! I will have this young man to help me. I will give him my\ndaughters for wives.\" So he gave him his daughters. He also gave this\nson-in-law all his wealth, keeping for himself only a little lodge, in\nwhich he lived with his old wife. The son-in-law lived in a lodge that was\nbig and fine.\n\nAt first the son-in-law was very good to the old people. Whenever he\nkilled anything, he gave them part of the meat, and furnished plenty of\nrobes and skins for their bedding and clothing. But after a while he began\nto be very mean to them.\n\nNow the son-in-law kept the buffalo hidden under a big log jam in the\nriver. Whenever he wanted to kill anything, he would have the old man go to\nhelp him; and the old man would stamp on the log jam and frighten the\nbuffalo, and when they ran out, the young man would shoot one or two, never\nkilling wastefully. But often he gave the old people nothing to eat, and\nthey were hungry all the time, and began to grow thin and weak.\n\nOne morning, the young man called his father-in-law to go down to the log\njam and hunt with him. They started, and the young man killed a fat buffalo\ncow. Then he said to the old man, \"Hurry back now, and tell your children\nto get the dogs and carry this meat home, then you can have something to\neat.\" And the old man did as he had been ordered, thinking to himself:\n\"Now, at last, my son-in-law has taken pity on me. He will give me part of\nthis meat.\" When he returned with the dogs, they skinned the cow, cut up\nthe meat and packed it on the dog travois, and went home. Then the young\nman had his wives unload it, and told his father-in-law to go home. He did\nnot give him even a piece of liver. Neither would the older daughter give\nher parents anything to eat, but the younger took pity on the old people\nand stole a piece of meat, and when she got a chance threw it into the\nlodge to the old people. The son-in-law told his wives not to give the old\npeople anything to eat. The only way they got food was when the younger\nwoman would throw them a piece of meat unseen by her husband and sister.\n\nAnother morning, the son-in-law got up early, and went and kicked on the\nold man's lodge to wake him, and called him to get up and help him, to go\nand pound on the log jam to drive out the buffalo, so that he could kill\nsome. When the old man pounded on the jam, a buffalo ran out, and the\nson-in-law shot it, but only wounded it. It ran away, but at last fell down\nand died. The old man followed it, and came to where it had lost a big clot\nof blood from its wound. When he came to where this clot of blood was lying\non the ground, he stumbled and fell, and spilled his arrows out of his\nquiver; and while he was picking them up, he picked up also the clot of\nblood, and hid it in his quiver. \"What are you picking up?\" called out the\nson-in-law. \"Nothing,\" said the old man; \"I just fell down and spilled my\narrows, and am putting them back.\" \"Curse you, old man,\" said the\nson-in-law, \"you are lazy and useless. Go back and tell your children to\ncome with the dogs and get this dead buffalo.\" He also took away his bow\nand arrows from the old man.\n\nThe old man went home and told his daughters, and then went over to his own\nlodge, and said to his wife: \"Hurry now, and put the kettle on the fire. I\nhave brought home something from the butchering.\" \"Ah!\" said the old woman,\n\"has our son-in-law been generous, and given us something nice?\" \"No,\"\nanswered the old man; \"hurry up and put the kettle on.\" When the water\nbegan to boil, the old man tipped his quiver up over the kettle, and\nimmediately there came from the pot a noise as of a child crying, as if it\nwere being hurt, burnt or scalded. They looked in the kettle, and saw there\na little boy, and they quickly took it out of the water. They were very\nmuch surprised. The old woman made a lashing to put the child in, and then\nthey talked about it. They decided that if the son-in-law knew that it was\na boy, he would kill it, so they resolved to tell their daughters that the\nbaby was a girl. Then he would be glad, for he would think that after a\nwhile he would have it for a wife. They named the child K[)u]t-o'-yis (Clot\nof Blood).\n\nThe son-in-law and his wives came home, and after a while he heard the\nchild crying. He told his youngest wife to go and find out whether that\nbaby was a boy or a girl; if it was a boy, to tell them to kill it. She\ncame back and told them that it was a girl. He did not believe this, and\nsent his oldest wife to find out the truth of the matter. When she came\nback and told him the same thing, he believed that it was really a\ngirl. Then he was glad, for he thought that when the child had grown up he\nwould have another wife. He said to his youngest wife, \"Take some pemmican\nover to your mother; not much, just enough so that there will be plenty of\nmilk for the child.\"\n\nNow on the fourth day the child spoke, and said, \"Lash me in turn to each\none of these lodge poles, and when I get to the last one, I will fall out\nof my lashing and be grown up.\" The old woman did so, and as she lashed\nhim to each lodge pole he could be seen to grow, and finally when they\nlashed him to the last pole, he was a man. After K[)u]t-o'-yis had looked\nabout the inside of the lodge, he looked out through a hole in the lodge\ncovering, and then, turning round, he said to the old people: \"How is it\nthere is nothing to eat in this lodge? I see plenty of food over by the\nother lodge.\" \"Hush up,\" said the old woman, \"you will be heard. That is\nour son-in-law. He does not give us anything at all to eat.\" \"Well,\" said\nK[)u]t-o'-yis, \"where is your pis'kun?\" The old woman said, \"It is down by\nthe river. We pound on it and the buffalo come out.\"\n\nThen the old man told him how his son-in-law abused him. \"He has taken my\nweapons from me, and even my dogs; and for many days we have had nothing to\neat, except now and then a small piece of meat our daughter steals for us.\"\n\n\"Father,\" said K[)u]t-o'-yis, \"have you no arrows?\" \"No, my son,\" he\nreplied; \"but I have yet four stone points.\"\n\n\"Go out then and get some wood,\" said K[)u]t-o'-yis. \"We will make a bow\nand arrows. In the morning we will go down and kill something to eat.\"\n\nEarly in the morning K[)u]t-o'-yis woke the old man, and said, \"Come, we\nwill go down now and kill when the buffalo come out.\" When they had reached\nthe river, the old man said: \"Here is the place to stand and shoot. I will\ngo down and drive them out.\" As he pounded on the jam, a fat cow ran out,\nand K[)u]t-o'-yis killed it.\n\nMeantime the son-in-law had gone out, and as usual knocked on the old man's\nlodge, and called to him to get up and go down to help him kill. The old\nwoman called to him that her husband had already gone down. This made the\nson-in-law very angry. He said: \"I have a good mind to kill you right now,\nold woman. I guess I will by and by.\"\n\nThe son-in-law went on down to the jam, and as he drew near, he saw the old\nman bending over, skinning a buffalo. \"Old man,\" said he, \"stand up and\nlook all around you. Look well, for it will be your last look.\" Now when\nhe had seen the son-in-law coming, K[)u]t-o'-yis had lain down and hidden\nhimself behind the buffalo's carcass. He told the old man to say to his\nson-in-law, \"You had better take your last look, for I am going to kill\nyou, right now.\" The old man said this. \"Ah!\" said the son-in-law, \"you\nmake me angrier still, by talking back to me.\" He put an arrow to his bow\nand shot at the old man, but did not hit him. K[)u]t-o'-yis told the old\nman to pick up the arrow and shoot it back at him, and he did so. Now they\nshot at each other four times, and then the old man said to K[)u]t-o'-yis:\n\"I am afraid now. Get up and help me.\" So K[)u]t-o'-yis got up on his feet\nand said: \"Here, what are you doing? I think you have been badly treating\nthis old man for a long time.\"\n\nThen the son-in-law smiled pleasantly, for he was afraid of\nK[)u]t-o'-yis. \"Oh, no,\" he said, \"no one thinks more of this old man than\nI do. I have always taken great pity on him.\"\n\nThen K[)u]t-o'-yis said: \"You lie. I am going to kill you now.\" He shot him\nfour times, and the man died. Then K[)u]t-o'-yis told the old man to go and\nbring down the daughter who had acted badly toward him. He did so, and\nK[)u]t-o'-yis killed her. Then he went up to the lodges and said to the\nyounger woman, \"Perhaps you loved your husband.\" \"Yes,\" she said, \"I love\nhim.\" So he killed her, too. Then he said to the old people: \"Go over there\nnow, and live in that lodge. There is plenty there to eat, and when it is\ngone I will kill more. As for myself, I will make a journey around\nabout. Where are there any people? In what direction?\" \"Well,\" said the old\nman, \"up above here on Badger Creek and Two Medicine, where the pis'kun is,\nthere are some people.\"\n\nK[)u]t-o'-yis went up to where the pis'kun was, and saw there many lodges\nof people. In the centre of the camp was a large lodge, with a figure of a\nbear painted on it. He did not go into this lodge, but went into a very\nsmall one near by, where two old women lived; and when he went in, he asked\nthem for something to eat. They set before him some lean dried meat and\nsome belly fat. \"How is this?\" he asked. \"Here is a pis'kun with plenty of\nfat meat and back fat. Why do you not give me some of that?\" \"Hush,\" said\nthe old women. \"In that big lodge near by, lives a big bear and his wives\nand children. He takes all those nice things and leaves us nothing. He is\nthe chief of this place.\"\n\nEarly in the morning, K[)u]t-o'-yis told the old women to get their dog\ntravois, and harness it, and go over to the pis'kun, and that he was going\nto kill for them some fat meat. He reached there just about the time the\nbuffalo were being driven in, and shot a cow, which looked very scabby, but\nwas really very fat. Then he helped the old women to butcher, and when they\nhad taken the meat to camp, he said to them, \"Now take all the choice fat\npieces, and hang them up so that those who live in the bear lodge will\nnotice them.\"\n\nThey did this, and pretty soon the old chief bear said to his children: \"Go\nout now, and look around. The people have finished killing by this\ntime. See where the nicest pieces are, and bring in some nice back fat.\" A\nyoung bear went out of the lodge, stood up and looked around, and when it\nsaw this meat close by, at the old women's lodge, it went over and began to\npull it down. \"Hold on there,\" said K[)u]t-o'-yis. \"What are you doing\nhere, taking the old women's meat?\" and he hit him over the head with a\nstick that he had. The young bear ran home crying, and said to his father,\n\"A young man has hit me on the head.\" Then all the bears, the father and\nmother, and uncles and aunts, and all the relations, were very angry, and\nall rushed out toward the old women's lodge.\n\nK[)u]t-o'-yis killed them all, except one little child bear, a female,\nwhich escaped. \"Well,\" said K[)u]t-o'-yis, \"you can go and breed bears, so\nthere will be more.\"\n\nThen said K[)u]t-o'-yis to the old women: \"Now, grand-mothers, where are\nthere any more people? I want to travel around and see them.\" The old women\nsaid: \"The nearest ones are at the point of rocks (on Sun River). There is\na pis'kun there.\" So K[)u]t-o'-yis travelled off toward this place, and\nwhen he reached the camp, he entered an old woman's lodge.\n\nThe old woman set before him a plate of bad food. \"How is this?\" he\nasked. \"Have you nothing better than this to set before a stranger? You\nhave a pis'kun down there, and must get plenty of fat meat. Give me some\npemmican.\" \"We cannot do that,\" the old woman replied, \"because there is a\nbig snake here, who is chief of the camp. He not only takes the best\npieces, but often he eats a handsome young woman, when he sees one.\" When\nK[)u]t-o'-yis heard this he was angry, and went over and entered the\nsnake's lodge. The women were cooking up some sarvis berries. He picked up\nthe dish, and ate the berries, and threw the dish out of the door. Then he\nwent over to where the snake was lying asleep, pricked him with his knife,\nand said: \"Here, get up. I have come to see you.\" This made the snake\nangry. He partly raised himself up and began to rattle, when K[)u]t-o'-yis\ncut him into pieces with his knife. Then he turned around and killed all\nhis wives and children, except one little female snake, which escaped by\ncrawling into a crack in the rocks. \"Oh, well,\" said K[)u]t-o'-yis, \"you\ncan go and breed young snakes, so there will be more. The people will not\nbe afraid of little snakes.\" K[)u]t-o'-yis said to the old woman, \"Now you\ngo into this snake's lodge and take it for yourself, and everything that is\nin it.\"\n\nThen he asked them where there were some more people. They told him that\nthere were some people down the river, and some up in the mountains. But\nthey said: \"Do not go there, for it is bad, because Ai-sin'-o-ko-ki (Wind\nSucker) lives there. He will kill you.\" It pleased K[)u]t-o'-yis to know\nthat there was such a person, and he went to the mountains. When he got to\nthe place where Wind Sucker lived, he looked into his mouth, and could see\nmany dead people there,--some skeletons and some just dead. He went in, and\nthere he saw a fearful sight. The ground was white as snow with the bones\nof those who had died. There were bodies with flesh on them; some were just\ndead, and some still living. He spoke to a living person, and asked, \"What\nis that hanging down above us?\" The person answered that it was Wind\nSucker's heart. Then said K[)u]t-o'-yis: \"You who still draw a little\nbreath, try to shake your heads (in time to the song), and those who are\nstill able to move, get up and dance. Take courage now, we are going to\nhave the ghost dance.\" So K[)u]t-o'-yis bound his knife, point upward, to\nthe top of his head and began to dance, singing the ghost song, and all the\nothers danced with him; and as he danced up and down, the point of the\nknife cut Wind Sucker's heart and killed him. K[)u]t-o'-yis took his knife\nand cut through Wind Sucker's ribs, and freed those who were able to crawl\nout, and said to those who could still travel to go and tell their people\nthat they should come here for the ones who were still alive but unable to\nwalk.\n\nThen he asked some of these people: \"Where are there any other people? I\nwant to visit all the people.\" They said to him: \"There is a camp to the\nwestward up the river, but you must not take the left-hand trail going up,\nbecause on that trail lives a woman, a handsome woman, who invites men to\nwrestle with her and then kills them. You must avoid her.\" This was what\nK[)u]t-o'-yis was looking for. This was his business in the world, to kill\noff all the bad things. So he asked the people just where this woman lived,\nand asked where it was best to go to avoid her. He did this, because he did\nnot wish the people to know that he wanted to meet her.\n\nHe started on his way, and at length saw this woman standing by the\ntrail. She called out to him, \"Come here, young man, come here; I want to\nwrestle with you.\" \"No,\" replied the young man, \"I am in a hurry. I cannot\nstop.\" But the woman called again, \"No, no, come now and wrestle once with\nme.\" When she had called him four times, K[)u]t-o'-yis went up to her. Now\non the ground, where this woman wrestled with people, she had placed many\nbroken and sharp flints, partly hiding them by the grass. They seized each\nother, and began to wrestle over these broken flints, but K[)u]t-o'-yis\nlooked at the ground and did not step on them. He watched his chance, and\nsuddenly gave the woman a wrench, and threw her down on a large sharp\nflint, which cut her in two; and the parts of her body fell asunder.\n\nThen K[)u]t-o'-yis went on, and after a while came to where a woman kept a\nsliding place; and at the far end of it there was a rope, which would trip\npeople up, and when they were tripped, they would fall over a high cliff\ninto deep water, where a great fish would eat them. When this woman saw him\ncoming, she cried out, \"Come over here, young man, and slide with me.\"\n\"No,\" he replied, \"I am in a hurry.\" She kept calling him, and when she\nhad called the fourth time, he went over to slide with her. \"This sliding,\"\nsaid the woman, \"is a very pleasant pastime.\" \"Ah!\" said K[)u]t-o'-yis, \"I\nwill look at it.\" He looked at the place, and, looking carefully, he saw\nthe hidden rope. So he started to slide, and took out his knife, and when\nhe reached the rope, which the woman had raised, he cut it, and when it\nparted, the woman fell over backward into the water, and was eaten up by\nthe big fish.\n\nAgain he went on, and after a while he came to a big camp. This was the\nplace of a man-eater. K[)u]t-o'-yis called a little girl he saw near by,\nand said to her: \"Child, I am going into that lodge to let that man-eater\nkill and eat me. Watch close, therefore, and when you can get hold of one\nof my bones, take it out and call all the dogs, and when they have all come\nup to you, throw it down and cry out, 'K[)u]t-o'-yis, the dogs are eating\nyour bones!'\"\n\nThen K[)u]t-o'-yis entered the lodge, and when the man-eater saw him, he\ncried out, \"_O'ki, O'ki,\"_ and seemed glad to see him, for he was a fat\nyoung man. The man-eater took a large knife, and went up to K[)u]t-o'-yis,\nand cut his throat, and put him into a great stone kettle to cook. When the\nmeat was cooked, he drew the kettle from the fire, and ate the body, limb\nby limb, until it was all eaten up.\n\nThen the little girl, who was watching, came up to him, and said, \"Pity me,\nman-eater, my mother is hungry and asks you for those bones.\" So the old\nman bunched them up together and handed them to her. She took them out, and\ncalled all the dogs to her, and threw the bones down to the dogs, crying\nout, \"Look out, K[)u]t-o'-yis; the dogs are eating you!\" and when she said\nthat, K[)u]t-o'-yis arose from the pile of bones.\n\nAgain he went into the lodge, and when the man-eater saw him, he cried out,\n\"How, how, how! the fat young man has survived,\" and seemed\nsurprised. Again he took his knife and cut K[)u]t-o'-yis' throat, and threw\nhim into the kettle. Again, when the meat was cooked, he ate it up, and\nagain the little girl asked for the bones, which he gave her; and, taking\nthem out, she threw them to the dogs, crying, \"K[)u]t-o'-yis, the dogs are\neating you!\" and K[)u]t-o'-yis again arose from the bones.\n\nWhen the man-eater had cooked him four times, he again went into the lodge,\nand, seizing the man-eater, he threw him into the boiling kettle, and his\nwives and children too, and boiled them to death.\n\nThe man-eater was the seventh and last of the bad animals and people who\nwere destroyed by K[)u]t-o'-yis.\n\n\n\nTHE BAD WIFE\n\n\nI\n\nThere was once a man who had but one wife. He was not a chief, but a very\nbrave warrior. He was rich, too, so he could have had plenty of wives if he\nwished; but he loved his wife very much, and did not want any more. He was\nvery good to this woman. She always wore the best clothes that could be\nfound. If any other woman had a fine buckskin dress, or something very\npretty, the man would buy it for her.\n\nIt was summer. The berries were ripe, and the woman kept saying to her\nhusband, \"Let us go and pick some berries for winter.\" \"No,\" replied the\nman. \"It is dangerous now. The enemy is travelling all around.\" But still\nthe woman kept teasing him to go. So one day he told her to get ready. Some\nother women went, too. They all went on horseback, for the berries were a\nlong way from camp. When they got to the place, the man told the women to\nkeep near their horses all the time. He would go up on a butte near by and\nwatch. \"Be careful,\" he said. \"Keep by your horses, and if you see me\nsignal, throw away your berries, get on your horses and ride towards camp\nas fast as you can.\"\n\nThey had not picked many berries before the man saw a war party coming. He\nsignalled the women, and got on his horse and rode towards them. It\nhappened that this man and his wife both had good horses, but the others,\nall old women, rode slow old travois horses, and the enemy soon overtook\nand killed them. Many kept on after the two on good horses, and after a\nwhile the woman's horse began to get tired; so she asked her husband to let\nher ride on his horse with him. The woman got up behind him, and they went\non again. The horse was a very powerful one, and for a while went very\nfast; but two persons make a heavy load, and soon the enemy began to gain\non them. The man was now in a bad plight; the enemy were overtaking him,\nand the woman holding him bound his arms so that he could not use his bow.\n\n\"Get off,\" he said to her. \"The enemy will not kill you. You are too young\nand pretty. Some one of them will take you, and I will get a big party of\nour people and rescue you.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" cried the woman; \"let us die here together.\"\n\n\"Why die?\" cried the man. \"We are yet young, and may live a long time\ntogether. If you don't get off, they will soon catch us and kill me, and\nthen they will take you anyhow. Get off, and in only a short time I will\nget you back.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" again cried the woman; \"I will die here with you.\"\n\n\"Crazy person!\" cried the man, and with a quick jerk he threw the woman\noff.\n\nAs he said, the enemy did not kill her. The first one who came up counted\n_coup_ and took her. The man, now that his horse was lightened, easily ran\naway from the war party, and got safe to camp.\n\n\nII\n\nThen there was great mourning. The relatives of the old women who had been\nkilled, cut their hair and cried. The man, too, cut off his hair and\nmourned. He knew that his wife was not killed, but he felt very badly\nbecause he was separated from her. He painted himself black, and walked all\nthrough the camp, crying. His wife had many relations, and some of them\nwent to the man and said: \"We pity you very much. We mourn, too, for our\nsister. But come. Take courage. We will go with you, and try to get her\nback.\"\n\n\"It is good,\" replied the man. \"I feel as if I should die, stopping\nuselessly here. Let us start soon.\"\n\nThat evening they got ready, and at daylight started out on foot. There\nwere seven of them in all. The husband, five middle-aged men, the woman's\nrelations, and a young man, her own young brother. He was a very pretty\nboy. His hair was longer than any other person's in camp.\n\nThey soon found the trail of the war party, and followed it for some\ndays. At last they came to the Big River,[1] and there, on the other side,\nthey saw many lodges. They crept down a coul\u00e9e into the valley, and hid in\na small piece of timber just opposite the camp. Toward evening the man\nsaid: \"_Kyi_, my brothers. To-night I will swim across and look all through\nthe camp for my wife. If I do not find her, I will cache and look again\nto-morrow evening. But if I do not return before daylight of the second\nnight, then you will know I am killed. Then you will do as you think best.\nMaybe you will want to take revenge. Maybe you will go right back\nhome. That will be as your hearts feel.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: Missouri River.]\n\nAs soon as it was dark, he swam across the river and went all about through\nthe camp, peeping in through the doorways of the lodges, but he did not see\nhis wife. Still, he knew she must be there. He had followed the trail of\nthe party to this place. They had not killed her on the way. He kept\nlooking in at the lodges until it was late, and the people let the fires go\nout and went to bed. Then the man went down to where the women got their\nwater from the river. Everywhere along the stream was a cut bank, but in\none place a path of steps had been made down to the water's edge. Near this\npath, he dug a hole in the bank and crawled into it, closing up the\nentrance, except one small hole, through which he could look, and watch the\npeople who came to the river.\n\nAs soon as it was daylight, the women began to come for water. _Tum, tum,\ntum, tum_, he could hear their footsteps as they came down the path, and he\nlooked eagerly at every one. All day long the people came and went,--the\nyoung and old; and the children played about near him. He saw many strange\npeople that day. It was now almost sunset, and he began to think that he\nwould not see his wife there. _Tum, tum, tum, tum_, another woman came\ndown the steps, and stopped at the water's edge. Her dress was strange, but\nhe thought he knew the form. She turned her head and looked down the river,\nand he saw her face. It was his wife. He pushed away the dirt, crawled\nout, went to her and kissed her. \"_Kyi_,\" he said, \"hurry, and let us swim\nacross the river. Five of your relations and your own young brother are\nwaiting for us in that piece of timber.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" replied his wife. \"These people have given me a great many pretty\nthings. Let me go back. When it is night I will gather them up, steal a\nhorse, and cross over to you.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" cried the man. \"Let the pretty things go; come, let us cross at\nonce.\"\n\n\"Pity me,\" said the woman. \"Let me go and get my things. I will surely come\nto-night. I speak the truth.\"\n\n\"How do you speak the truth?\"[1] asked her husband.\n\n[Footnote 1: Blackfoot--_Tsa-ki-an-ist-o-man-i?_ i.e., How you like truth?]\n\n\"That my relations there across the river may be safe and live long, I\nspeak the truth.\"\n\n\"Go then,\" said the man, \"and get your things. I will cross the river now.\"\nHe went up on the bank and walked down the river, keeping his face\nhidden. No one noticed him, or if they did, they thought he belonged to the\ncamp. As soon as he had passed the first bend, he swam across the river,\nand soon joined his relations.\n\n\"I have seen my wife,\" he said to them. \"She will come over as soon as it\nis dark. I let her go back to get some things that were given her.\"\n\n\"You are crazy,\" said one of the men, \"very crazy. She already loves this\nnew man she has, or she would not have wanted to go back.\"\n\n\"Stop that,\" said the husband; \"do not talk bad of her. She will surely\ncome.\"\n\n\nIII\n\nThe woman went back to her lodge with the water, and, sitting down near the\nfireplace, she began to act very strangely. She took up pieces of charred\nwood, dirt, and ashes in her hands and ate them, and made queer noises.\n\n\"What is it?\" asked the man who had taken her for a wife. \"What is the\nmatter with you?\" He spoke in signs.\n\nThe woman also spoke in signs. She answered him: \"The Sun told me that\nthere are seven persons across the river in that piece of timber. Five of\nthem are middle-aged, another is a young boy with very long hair, another\nis a man who mourns. His hair is cut short.\"\n\nThe Snake did not know what to do, so he called in some chiefs and old men\nto advise with him. They thought that the woman might be very strong\nmedicine. At all events, it would be a good thing to go and look. So the\nnews was shouted out, and in a short time all the warriors had mounted\ntheir best horses, and started across the river. It was then almost dark,\nso they surrounded the piece of timber, and waited for morning to begin the\nsearch.\n\n\"_Kyi_,\" said one of the woman's relations to her husband. \"Did I not\nspeak the truth? You see now what that woman has done for us.\"\n\nAt daylight the poor husband strung his bow, took a handful of arrows from\nhis quiver, and said: \"This is my fault. I have brought you to this. It is\nright that I should die first,\" and he started to go out of the timber.\n\n\"Wait,\" said the eldest relative. \"It shall not be so. I am the first to\ngo. I cannot stay back to see my brother die. You shall go out last.\" So he\njumped out of the brush, and began shooting his arrows, but was soon\nkilled.\n\n\"My brother is too far on the road alone,\"[1] cried another relation, and\nhe jumped out and fought, too. What use, one against so many? The Snakes\nsoon had his scalp.\n\n[Footnote 1: Meaning that his brother's spirit, or shadow, was travelling\nalone the road to the Sand Hills, and that he must overtake him.]\n\nSo they went out, one after another, and at last the husband was alone. He\nrushed out very brave, and shot his arrows as fast as he could. \"Hold!\"\ncried the Snake man to his people. \"Do not kill him; catch him. This is the\none my wife said to bring back alive. See! his hair is cut short.\" So, when\nthe man had shot away all his arrows, they seized and tied him, and, taking\nthe scalps of the others, returned to camp.\n\nThey took the prisoner into the lodge where his wife was. His hands were\ntied behind his back, and they tied his feet, too. He could not move.\n\nAs soon as the man saw his wife, he cried. He was not afraid. He did not\ncare now how soon he died. He cried because he was thinking of all the\ntrouble and death this woman had caused. \"What have I done to you,\" he\nasked his wife, \"that you should treat me this way? Did I not always use\nyou well? I never struck you. I never made you work hard.\"\n\n\"What does he say?\" asked the Snake man.\n\n\"He says,\" replied the woman, \"that when you are done smoking, you must\nknock the ashes and fire out of your pipe on his breast.\"\n\nThe Snake was not a bad-hearted man, but he thought now that this woman had\nstrong medicine, that she had Sun power; so he thought that everything must\nbe done as she said. When the man had finished smoking, he emptied the pipe\non the Piegan's breast, and the fire burned him badly.\n\nThen the poor man cried again, not from the pain, but to think what a bad\nheart this woman had. Again he spoke to her. \"You cannot be a person,\" he\nsaid. \"I think you are some fearful animal, changed to look like a woman.\"\n\n\"What is he saying now?\" asked the Snake.\n\n\"He wants some boiling water poured on his head,\" replied the woman.\n\n\"It shall be as he says,\" said the Snake; and he had his women heat some\nwater. When it was ready, one of them poured a little of it here and there\non the captive's head and shoulders. Wherever the hot water touched, the\nhair came out and the skin peeled off. The pain was so bad that the Piegan\nnearly fainted. When he revived, he said to his wife: \"Pity me. I have\nsuffered enough. Let them kill me now. Let me hurry to join those who are\nalready travelling to the Sand Hills.\"\n\nThe woman turned to the Snake chief, and said, \"The man says that he wants\nyou to give him to the Sun.\"\n\n\"It is good,\" said the Snake. \"To-morrow we move camp. Before we leave\nhere, we will give him to the Sun.\"\n\nThere was an old woman in this camp who lived all alone, in a little lodge\nof her own. She had some friends and relations, but she said she liked to\nlive by herself. She had heard that a Piegan had been captured, and went to\nthe lodge where he was. When she saw them pour the boiling water on him,\nshe cried and felt badly. This old woman had a very good heart. She went\nhome and lay down by her dog, and kept crying, she felt so sorry for this\npoor man. Pretty soon she heard people shouting out the orders of the\nchief. They said: \"Listen! listen! To-morrow we move camp. Get ready now\nand pack up everything. Before we go, the Piegan man will be given to the\nSun.\"\n\nThen the old woman knew what to do. She tied a piece of buckskin around her\ndog's mouth, so he could not bark, and then she took him way out in the\ntimber and tied him where he could not be seen. She also filled a small\nsack with pemmican, dried meat, and berries, and put it near the dog.\n\nIn the morning the people rose early. They smoothed a cotton-wood tree, by\ntaking off the bark, and painted it black. Then they stood the Piegan up\nagainst it, and fastened him there with a great many ropes. When they had\ntied him so he could not move, they painted his face black, and the chief\nSnake made a prayer, and gave him to the Sun.\n\nEvery one was now busy getting ready to move camp. This old woman had lost\nher dog, and kept calling out for him and looking all around. \"_Tsis'-i!_\"\nshe cried. \"_Tsis'-i!_ Come here. Knock the dog on the head![1] Wait till I\nfind him, and I'll break his neck.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: A Blackfoot curse.]\n\nThe people were now all packed up, and some had already started on the\ntrail. \"Don't wait for me,\" the old woman said. \"Go on, I'll look again for\nmy dog, and catch up with you.\"\n\nWhen all were gone, the old woman went and untied her dog, and then, going\nup to where the Piegan was tied, she cut the ropes, and he was free. But\nalready the man was very weak, and he fell down on the ground. She rubbed\nhis limbs, and pretty soon he felt better. The old woman was so sorry for\nhim that she cried again, and kissed him. Then the man cried, too. He was\nso glad that some one pitied him. By and by he ate some of the food the old\nwoman had given him, and felt strong again. He said to her in signs: \"I am\nnot done. I shall go back home now, but I will come again. I will bring all\nthe Piegans with me, and we will have revenge.\"\n\n\"You say well,\" signed the old woman.\n\n\"Help me,\" again said the man. \"If, on the road you are travelling, this\ncamp should separate, mark the trail my wife takes with a stick. You, too,\nfollow the party she goes with, and always put your lodge at the far end of\nthe village. When I return with my people, I will enter your lodge, and\ntell you what to do.\"\n\n\"I take your speech,\" replied the old woman. \"As you say, so it shall be.\"\nThen she kissed him again, and started on after her people. The man went to\nthe river, swam across, and started for the North.\n\n\nIV\n\nWhy are the people crying? Why is all this mourning? Ah! the poor man has\nreturned home, and told how those who went with him were killed. He has\ntold them the whole story. They are getting ready for war. Every one able\nto fight is going with this man back to the Snakes. Only a few will be\nleft to guard the camp. The mother of that bad woman is going, too. She has\nsharpened her axe, and told what she will do when she sees her\ndaughter. All are ready. The best horses have been caught up and saddled,\nand the war party has started,--hundreds and hundreds of warriors. They are\nstrung out over the prairie as far as you can see.\n\nWhen they got to the Missouri River, the poor man showed them where the\nlodge in which they had tortured him had stood. He took them to see the\ntree, where he had been bound. The black paint was still on it.\n\nFrom here, they went slowly. Some young men were sent far ahead to\nscout. The second day, they came back to the main body, and said they had\nfound a camping place just deserted, and that there the trail forked. The\npoor man then went ahead, and at the forks he found a willow twig stuck in\nthe ground, pointing to the left hand trail. When the others came up, he\nsaid to them: \"Take care of my horse now, and travel slowly. I will go\nahead on foot and find the camp. It must be close. I will go and see that\nold woman, and find out how things are.\"\n\nSome men did not want him to do this; they said that the old woman might\ntell about him, and then they could not surprise the camp.\n\n\"No,\" replied the man. \"It will not be so. That old woman is almost the\nsame as my mother. I know she will help us.\"\n\nHe went ahead carefully, and near sunset saw the camp. When it was dark,\nhe crept near it and entered the old woman's lodge. She had placed it\nbehind, and a little way off from, the others. When he went in the old\nwoman was asleep, but the fire was still burning a little. He touched her,\nand she jumped up and started to scream; but he put his hand on her mouth,\nand when she saw who it was she laughed and kissed him. \"The Piegans have\ncome,\" he told her. \"We are going to have revenge on this camp to-night. Is\nmy wife here?\"\n\n\"Still here,\" replied the old woman. \"She is chief now. They think her\nmedicine very strong.\"\n\n\"Tell your friends and relations,\" said the Piegan, \"that you have had a\ndream, and that they must move into the brush yonder. Have them stay there\nwith you, and they will not be hurt. I am going now to get my people.\"\n\nIt was very late in the night. Most of the Snakes were in bed and\nasleep. All at once the camp was surrounded with warriors, shouting the war\ncry and shooting, stabbing, and knocking people on the head as fast as they\ncame out of the lodges.\n\nThat Piegan woman cried out: \"Don't hurt me. I am a Piegan. Are any of my\npeople here?\"\n\n\"Many of your relations are here,\" some one said. \"They will protect you.\"\n\nSome young men seized and tied her, as her husband had said to do. They had\nhard work to keep her mother from killing her. \"_Hai yah_!\" the old woman\ncried. \"There is my Snake woman daughter. Let me split her head open.\"\n\nThe fight was soon over. The Piegans killed the people almost as fast as\nthey came out of their lodges. Some few escaped in the darkness. When the\nfight was over, the young warriors gathered up a great pile of lodge poles\nand brush, and set fire to it. Then the poor man tore the dress off his bad\nwife, tied the scalp of her dead Snake man around her neck, and told her to\ndance the scalp dance in the fire. She cried and hung back, calling out for\npity. The people only laughed and pushed her into the fire. She would run\nthrough it, and then those on the other side would push her back. So they\nkept her running through the fire, until she fell down and died.\n\nThe old Snake woman had come out of the brush with her relations. Because\nshe had been so good, the Piegans gave her, and those with her, one-half of\nall the horses and valuable things they had taken. \"_Kyi!_\" said the Piegan\nchief. \"That is all for you, because you helped this poor man. To-morrow\nmorning we start back North. If your heart is that way, go too and live\nwith us.\" So these Snakes joined the Piegans and lived with them until they\ndied, and their children married with the Piegans, and at last they were no\nlonger Snake people.[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: When the Hudson's Bay Company first established a fort at\nEdmonton, a daughter of one of these Snakes married a white employee of the\ncompany, named, in Blackfoot, _O-wai_, Egg.]\n\n\n\nTHE LOST CHILDREN\n\nOnce a camp of people stopped on the bank of a river. There were but a few\nlodges of them. One day the little children in the camp crossed the river\nto play on the other side. For some time they stayed near the bank, and\nthen they went up over a little hill, and found a bed of sand and gravel;\nand there they played for a long time.\n\nThere were eleven of these children. Two of them were daughters of the\nchief of the camp, and the smaller of these wanted the best of\neverything. If any child found a pretty stone, she would try to take it for\nherself. The other children did not like this, and they began to tease the\nlittle girl, and to take her things away from her. Then she got angry and\nbegan to cry, and the more she cried, the more the children teased her; so\nat last she and her sister left the others, and went back to the camp.\n\nWhen they got there, they told their father what the other children had\ndone to them, and this made the chief very angry. He thought for a little\nwhile, and then got up and went out of the lodge, and called aloud, so that\neverybody might hear, saying: \"Listen! listen! Your children have teased my\nchild and made her cry. Now we will move away, and leave them behind. If\nthey come back before we get started, they shall be killed. If they follow\nus and overtake the camp, they shall be killed. If the father and mother of\nany one of them take them into their lodge, I will kill that father and\nmother. Hurry now, hurry and pack up, so that we can go. Everybody tear\ndown the lodges, as quickly as you can.\"\n\nWhen the people heard this, they felt very sorry, but they had to do as the\nchief said; so they tore down the lodges, and quickly packed the dog\ntravois, and started off. They packed in such a hurry that they left many\nlittle things lying in camp,--knives and awls, bone needles and moccasins.\n\nThe little children played about in the sand for a long time, but at last\nthey began to get hungry; and one little girl said to the others, \"I will\ngo back to the camp, and get some dried meat and bring it here, so that we\nmay eat.\" And she started to go to the camp. When she came to the top of\nthe hill and looked across the river, she saw that there were no lodges\nthere, and did not know what to think of it. She called down to the\nchildren, and said, \"The camp has gone\"; but they did not believe her, and\nwent on playing. She kept on calling, and at last some of them came to her,\nand then all, and saw that it was as she had said. They went down to the\nriver, and crossed it, and went to where the lodges had stood. When they\ngot there, they saw on the ground the things that had been left out in\npacking; and as each child saw and knew something that had belonged to its\nown parents, it cried and sang a little song, saying: \"Mother, here is your\nbone needle; why did you leave your children?\" \"Father, here is your arrow;\nwhy did you leave your children?\" It was very mournful, and they all cried.\n\nThere was among them a little girl who had on her back her baby brother,\nwhom she loved dearly. He was very young, a nursing child, and already he\nwas hungry and beginning to fret. This little girl said to the others: \"We\ndo not know why they have gone, but we know they have gone. We must follow\nthe trail of the camp, and try to catch up with them.\" So the children\nstarted to follow the camp. They travelled on all day; and just at night\nthey saw, near the trail, a little lodge. They had heard the people talk of\na bad old woman who killed and ate persons, and some of the children\nthought that this old woman might live here; and they were afraid to go to\nthe lodge. Others said: \"Perhaps some person lives here who has a good\nheart. We are very tired and very hungry and have nothing to eat and no\nplace to keep warm. Let us go to this lodge.\"\n\nThey went to it; and when they went in, they saw sitting by the fire an old\nwoman. She spoke kindly to them, and asked them where they were travelling;\nand they told her that the camp had moved on and left them, and that they\nwere trying to find their people, that they had nothing to eat, and were\ntired and hungry. The old woman fed them, and told them to sleep here\nto-night, and to-morrow they could go on and find their people. \"The camp,\"\nshe said, \"passed here to-day when the sun was low. They have not gone\nfar. To-morrow you will overtake them.\" She spread some robes on the ground\nand said: \"Now lie here and sleep. Lie side by side with your heads toward\nthe fire, and when morning comes, you can go on your journey.\" The\nchildren lay down and soon slept.\n\nIn the middle of the night, the old woman got up, and built a big fire, and\nput on it a big stone kettle, full of water. Then she took a big knife,\nand, commencing at one end of the row, began to cut off the heads of the\nchildren, and to throw them into the pot. The little girl with the baby\nbrother lay at the other end of the row, and while the old woman was doing\nthis, she awoke and saw what was taking place. When the old woman came near\nto her, she jumped up and began to beg that she would not kill her. \"I am\nstrong,\" she said. \"I will work hard for you. I can bring your wood and\nwater, and tan your skins. Do not kill my little brother and me. Take pity\non us and save us alive. Everybody has left us, but do you have pity. You\nshall see how quickly I will work, how you will always have plenty of\nwood. I can work quickly and well.\" The old woman thought for a little\nwhile, then she said: \"Well, I will let you live for a time, anyhow. You\nshall sleep safely to-night.\"\n\nThe next day, early, the little girl took her brother on her back, and went\nout and gathered a big pile of wood, and brought it to the lodge before the\nold woman was awake. When she got up, she called to the girl, \"Go to the\nriver and get a bucket of water.\" The girl put her brother on her back, and\ntook the bucket to go. The old woman said to her: \"Why do you carry that\nchild everywhere? Leave him here.\" The girl said: \"Not so. He is always\nwith me, and if I leave him he will cry and make a great noise, and you\nwill not like that.\" The old woman grumbled, but the girl went on down to\nthe river.\n\nWhen she got there, just as she was going to fill her bucket, she saw\nstanding by her a great bull. It was a mountain buffalo, one of those who\nlive in the timber; and the long hair of its head was all full of pine\nneedles and sticks and branches, and matted together. (It was a\n_Su'ye-st[)u]'mik_, a water bull.) When the girl saw him, she prayed him to\ntake her across the river, and so to save her and her little brother from\nthe bad old woman. The bull said, \"I will take you across, but first you\nmust take some of the sticks out of my head.\" The girl begged him to start\nat once; but the bull said, \"No, first take the sticks out of my head.\" The\ngirl began to do it, but before she had done much, she heard the old woman\ncalling to her to bring the water. The girl called back, \"I am trying to\nget the water clear,\" and went on fixing the buffalo's head. The old woman\ncalled again, saying, \"Hurry, hurry with that water.\" The girl answered,\n\"Wait, I am washing my little brother.\" Pretty soon the old woman called\nout, \"If you don't bring that water, I will kill you and your brother.\" By\nthis time the girl had most of the sticks out of the bull's head, and he\ntold her to get on his back, and went into the water and swam with her\nacross the river. As he reached the other bank, the girl could see the old\nwoman coming from her lodge down to the river with a big stick in her hand.\n\nWhen the bull reached the bank, the girl jumped off his back and started\noff on the trail of the camp. The bull swam back again to the other side of\nthe river, and there stood the old woman. This bull was a sort of servant\nof the old woman. She said to him: \"Why did you take those children across\nthe river? Take me on your back now and carry me across quickly, so that I\ncan catch them.\" The bull said, \"First take these sticks out of my head.\"\n\"No,\" said the old woman; \"first take me across, then I will take the\nsticks out.\" The bull repeated, \"First take the sticks out of my head, then\nI will take you across.\" This made the old woman very mad, and she hit him\nwith the stick she had in her hand; but when she saw that he would not go,\nshe began to pull the sticks out of his head very roughly, tearing out\ngreat handfuls of hair, and every moment ordering him to go, and\nthreatening what she would do to him when she got back. At last the bull\ntook her on his back, and began to swim across with her, but he did not\nswim fast enough to please her, so she began to pound him with her club to\nmake him go faster; and when the bull got to the middle of the river, he\nrolled over on his side, and the old woman slipped off, and was carried\ndown the river and drowned.\n\nThe girl followed the trail of the camp for several days, feeding on\nberries and roots that she dug; and at last one night after dark she\novertook the camp. She went into the lodge of an old woman, who was camped\noff at one side, and the old woman pitied her and gave her some food, and\ntold her where her father's lodge was. The girl went to it, but when she\nwent in, her parents would not receive her. She had tried to overtake them\nfor the sake of her little brother, who was growing thin and weak because\nhe had not nursed; and now her mother was afraid to have her stay with\nthem. She even went and told the chief that her children had come back. Now\nwhen the chief heard that these two children had come back, he was angry;\nand he ordered that the next day they should be tied to a post in the camp,\nand that the people should move on and leave them here. \"Then,\" he said,\n\"they cannot follow us.\"\n\nThe old woman who had pitied the children, when she heard what the chief\nhad ordered, made up a bundle of dried meat, and hid it in the grass near\nthe camp. Then she called her dog to her,--a little curly dog. She said to\nthe dog:--\n\n\"Now listen. To-morrow when we are ready to start, I will call you to come\nto me, but you must pay no attention to what I say. Run off, and pretend to\nbe chasing squirrels. I will try to catch you, and if I do so, I will\npretend to whip you; but do not follow me. Stay behind, and when the camp\nhas passed out of sight, chew off the strings that bind those children; and\nwhen you have done this, show them where I have hidden that food. Then you\ncan follow the camp and catch up to us.\" The dog stood before the old\nwoman, and listened to all that she said, turning his head from side to\nside, as if paying close attention.\n\nNext morning it was done as the chief had said. The children were tied to\nthe tree with raw hide strings, and the people tore down all the lodges and\nmoved off. The old woman called her dog to follow her, but he was digging\nat a gopher hole and would not come. Then she went up to him and struck at\nhim hard with her whip, but he dodged and ran away, and then stood looking\nat her. Then the old woman got very mad and cursed him, but he paid no\nattention; and finally she left him, and followed the camp. When the\npeople had all passed out of sight, the dog went to the children, and\ngnawed the strings which tied them, until he had bitten them through. So\nthe children were free.\n\nThen the dog was glad, and danced about and barked and ran round and\nround. Pretty soon he came up to the little girl, and looked up in her\nface, and then started away, trotting. Every little while he would stop\nand look back. The girl thought he wanted her to follow him. She did so,\nand he took her to where the bundle of dried meat was, and showed it to\nher. Then, when he had done this, he jumped up on her, and licked the\nbaby's face, and then started off, running as hard as he could along the\ntrail of the camp, never stopping to look back. The girl did not follow\nhim. She now knew that it was no use to go to the camp again. Their\nparents would not receive them, and the chief would perhaps order them to\nbe killed.\n\nShe went on her way, carrying her little brother and the bundle of dried\nmeat. She travelled for many days, and at last came to a place where she\nthought she would stop. Here she built a little lodge of poles and brush,\nand stayed there. One night she had a dream, and an old woman came to her\nin the dream, and said to her, \"To-morrow take your little brother, and tie\nhim to one of the lodge poles, and the next day tie him to another, and so\nevery day tie him to one of the poles, until you have gone all around the\nlodge and have tied him to each pole. Then you will be helped, and will no\nmore have bad luck.\"\n\nWhen the girl awoke in the morning, she remembered what the dream had told\nher, and she bound her little brother to one of the lodge poles; and each\nday after this she tied him to one of the poles. Each day he grew larger,\nuntil, when she had gone all around the lodge, he was grown to be a fine\nyoung man.\n\nNow the girl was glad, and proud of her young brother who was so large and\nnoble-looking. He was quiet, not speaking much, and sometimes for days he\nwould not say anything. He seemed to be thinking all the time. One morning\nhe told the girl that he had a dream and that he wished her to help him\nbuild a pis'kun. She was afraid to ask him about the dream, for she thought\nif she asked questions he might not like it. So she just said she was ready\nto do what he wished. They built the pis'kun, and when it was finished, the\nboy said to his sister: \"The buffalo are to come to us, and you are not to\nsee them. When the time comes, you are to cover your head and to hold your\nface close to the ground; and do not lift your head nor look, until I throw\na piece of kidney to you.\" The girl said, \"It shall be as you say.\"\n\nWhen the time came, the boy told her where to go; and she went to the\nplace, a little way from the lodge, not far from the corral, and sat down\non the ground, and covered her head, holding her face close to the\nearth. After she had sat there a little while, she heard the sound of\nanimals running, and she was excited and curious, and raised her head to\nlook; but all she saw was her brother, standing near, looking at\nher. Before he could speak, she said to him: \"I thought I heard buffalo\ncoming, and because I was anxious for food, I forgot my promise and\nlooked. Forgive me this time, and I will try again.\" Again she bent her\nface to the ground, and covered her head.\n\nSoon she heard again the sound of animals running, at first a long way off,\nand then coming nearer and nearer, until at last they seemed close, and she\nthought they were going to run over her. She sprang up in fright and looked\nabout, but there was nothing to be seen but her brother, looking sadly at\nher. She went close to him and said: \"Pity me. I was afraid, for I thought\nthe buffalo were going to run over me.\" He said: \"This is the last time. If\nagain you look, we will starve; but if you do not look, we will always have\nplenty, and will never be without meat.\" The girl looked at him, and said,\n\"I will try hard this time, and even if those animals run right over me, I\nwill not look until you throw the kidney to me.\" Again she covered her\nhead, pressing her face against the earth and putting her hands against her\nears, so that she might not hear. Suddenly, sooner than she thought, she\nfelt the blow from the meat thrown at her, and, springing up, she seized\nthe kidney and began to eat it. Not far away was her brother, bending over\na fat cow; and, going up to him, she helped him with the butchering. After\nthat was done, she kindled a fire and cooked the best parts of the meat,\nand they ate and were satisfied.\n\nThe boy became a great hunter. He made fine arrows that went faster than a\nbird could fly, and when he was hunting, he watched all the animals and all\nthe birds, and learned their ways, and how to imitate them when they\ncalled. While he was hunting, the girl dressed buffalo hides and the skins\nof deer and other animals. She made a fine new lodge, and the boy painted\nit with figures of all the birds and the animals he had killed.\n\nOne day, when the girl was bringing water, she saw a little way off a\nperson coming. When she went in the lodge, she told her brother, and he\nwent out to meet the stranger. He found that he was friendly and was\nhunting, but had had bad luck and killed nothing. He was starving and in\ndespair, when he saw this lone lodge and made up his mind to go to it. As\nhe came near it, he began to be afraid, and to wonder if the people who\nlived there were enemies or ghosts; but he thought, \"I may as well die here\nas starve,\" so he went boldly to it. The strange person was very much\nsurprised to see this handsome young man with the kind face, who could\nspeak his own language. The boy took him into the lodge, and the girl put\nfood before him. After he had eaten, he told his story, saying that the\ngame had left them, and that many of his people were dying of hunger. As\nhe talked, the girl listened; and at last she remembered the man, and knew\nthat he belonged to her camp. She asked him questions, and he talked about\nall the people in the camp, and even spoke of the old woman who owned the\ndog. The boy advised the stranger, after he had rested, to return to his\ncamp, and tell the people to move up to this place, that here they would\nfind plenty of game. After he had gone, the boy and his sister talked of\nthese things. The girl had often told him what she had suffered, what the\nchief had said and done, and how their own parents had turned against her,\nand that the only person whose heart had been good to her was this old\nwoman. As the young man heard all this again, he was angry at his parents\nand the chief, but he felt great kindness for the old woman and her\ndog. When he learned that those bad people were living, he made up his mind\nthat they should suffer and die.\n\nWhen the strange person reached his own camp, he told the people how well\nhe had been treated by these two persons, and that they wished him to bring\nthe whole camp to where they were, and that there they should have plenty.\nThis made great joy in the camp, and all got ready to move. When they\nreached the lost children's camp, they found everything as the stranger had\nsaid. The brother gave a feast; and to those whom he liked he gave many\npresents, but to the old woman and the dog he gave the best presents of\nall. To the chief nothing at all was given, and this made him very much\nashamed. To the parents no food was given, but the boy tied a bone to the\nlodge poles above the fire, and told the parents to eat from it without\ntouching it with their hands. They were very hungry, and tried to eat from\nthis bone; and as they were stretching out their necks to reach it--for it\nwas above them--the boy cut off their heads with his knife. This frightened\nall the people, the chief most of all; but the boy told them how it all\nwas, and how he and his sister had survived.\n\nWhen he had finished speaking, the chief said he was sorry for what he had\ndone, and he proposed to his people that this young man should be made\ntheir chief. They were glad to do this. The boy was made the chief, and\nlived long to rule the people in that camp.\n\n\n\nMIK-A'PI--RED OLD MAN\n\n\nI\n\nIt was in the valley of \"It fell on them\"[1] Creek, near the mountains,\nthat the Pik[)u]n'i were camped when Mik-a'pi went to war. It was far back,\nin the days of stone knives, long before the white people had come. This\nwas the way it happened.\n\n[Footnote 1: Armells Creek in Northern Montana is called\n_Et-tsis-ki-ots-op_, \"It fell on them.\" A longtime ago a number of\nBlackfeet women were digging in a bank near this creek for the red clay\nwhich they use for paint, when the bank gave way and fell on them, burying\nand killing them.]\n\nEarly in the morning a band of buffalo were seen in the foot-hills of the\nmountains, and some hunters went out to get meat. Carefully they crawled\nalong up the coul\u00e9es and drew near to the herd; and, when they had come\nclose to them, they began to shoot, and their arrows pierced many fat\ncows. But even while they were thus shooting, they were surprised by a war\nparty of Snakes, and they began to run back toward the camp. There was one\nhunter, named Fox-eye, who was very brave. He called to the others to stop,\nsaying: \"They are many and we are few, but the Snakes are not brave. Let us\nstop and fight them.\" But the other hunters would not listen. \"We have no\nshields,\" they said, \"nor our war medicine. There are many of the\nenemy. Why should we foolishly die?\"\n\nThey hurried on to camp, but Fox-eye would not turn back. He drew his\narrows from the quiver, and prepared to fight. But, even as he placed an\narrow, a Snake had crawled up by his side, unseen. In the still air, the\nPiegan heard the sharp twang of a bow string, but, before he could turn his\nhead, the long, fine-pointed arrow pierced him through and through. The bow\nand arrows dropped from his hands, he swayed, and then fell forward on the\ngrass, dead. But now the warriors came pouring from the camp to aid\nhim. Too late! The Snakes quickly scalped their fallen enemy, scattered up\nthe mountain, and were lost to sight.\n\nNow Fox-eye had two wives, and their father and mother and all their near\nrelations were dead. All Fox-eye's relatives, too, had long since gone to\nthe Sand Hills[1]. So these poor widows had no one to avenge them, and they\nmourned deeply for the husband so suddenly taken from them. Through the\nlong days they sat on a near hill and mourned, and their mourning was very\nsad.\n\n[Footnote 1: Sand Hills: the shadow land; place of ghosts; the Blackfoot\nfuture world.]\n\nThere was a young warrior named Mik-a'pi. Every morning he was awakened by\nthe crying of these poor widows, and through the day his heart was touched\nby their wailing. Even when he went to rest, their mournful cries reached\nhim through the darkness, and he could not sleep. So he sent his mother to\nthem. \"Tell them,\" he said, \"that I wish to speak to them.\" When they had\nentered, they sat close by the door-way, and covered their heads.\n\n\"_Kyi!\"_ said Mik-a'pi. \"For days and nights I have heard your mourning,\nand I too have silently mourned. My heart has been very sad. Your husband\nwas my near friend, and now he is dead and no relations are left to avenge\nhim. So now, I say, I will take the load from your hearts. I will avenge\nhim. I will go to war and take many scalps, and when I return, they shall\nbe yours. You shall paint your faces black, and we will all rejoice that\nFox-eye is avenged.\"\n\nWhen the people heard that Mik-a'pi was going to war, many warriors wished\nto join him, but he refused them; and when he had taken a medicine sweat,\nand got a medicine-pipe man to make medicine for him during his absence, he\nstarted from the camp one evening, just after sunset. It is only the\nfoolish warrior who travels in the day; for other war parties may be out,\nor some camp-watcher sitting on a hill may see him from far off, and lay\nplans to destroy him. Mik-a'pi was not one of these. He was brave but\ncautious, and he had strong medicine. Some say that he was related to the\nghosts, and that they helped him. Having now started to war against the\nSnakes, he travelled in hidden places, and at sunrise would climb a hill\nand look carefully in all directions, and during the long day would lie\nthere, and watch, and take short sleeps.\n\nNow, when Mik-a'pi had come to the Great Falls (of the Missouri), a heavy\nrain set in; and, seeing a hole in the rocks, he crawled in and lay down in\nthe farther end to sleep. The rain did not cease, and when night came he\ncould not travel because of the darkness and storm; so he lay down to sleep\nagain. But soon he heard something coming into the cave toward him, and\nthen he felt a hand laid on his breast, and he put out his hand and touched\na person. Then Mik-a'pi put the palm of his hand on the person's breast and\njerked it to and fro, and then he touched the person with the point of his\nfinger, which, in the sign language, means, \"Who are you?\"\n\nThe strange person then took Mik-a'pi's hand, and made him feel of his own\nright hand. The thumb and all the fingers were closed except the\nforefinger, which was extended; and when Mik-a'pi touched it the person\nmoved his hand forward with a zigzag motion, which means \"Snake.\" Then\nMik-a'pi was glad. Here had come to him one of the tribe he was\nseeking. But he thought it best to wait for daylight before attacking\nhim. So, when the Snake in signs asked him who he was, he replied, by\nmaking the sign for paddling a canoe, that he was a Pend d'Oreille, or\nRiver person. For he knew that the Snakes and the Pend d'Oreilles were at\npeace.\n\nThen they both lay down to sleep, but Mik-a'pi did not sleep. Through the\nlong night he watched for the first dim light, so that he might kill his\nenemy. The Snake slept soundly; and just at daybreak Mik-a'pi quietly\nstrung his bow, fitted an arrow, and, taking aim, sent the thin shaft\nthrough his enemy's heart. The Snake quivered, half rose up, and with a\ngroan fell back dead. Then Mik-a'pi took his scalp and his bow and arrows,\nand also his bundle of moccasins; and as daylight had come, he went out of\nthe cave and looked all about. No one was in sight. Probably the Snake,\nlike himself, had gone alone to war. But, ever cautious, he travelled only\na short distance, and waited for night before going on. The rain had ceased\nand the day was warm. He took a piece of dried meat and back fat from his\npouch and ate them, and, after drinking from the river, he climbed up on a\nhigh rock wall and slept.\n\nNow in his dream he fought with a strange people, and was wounded. He felt\nblood trickling from his wounds, and when he awoke, he knew that he had\nbeen warned to turn back. The signs also were bad. He saw an eagle rising\nwith a snake, which dropped from its claws and escaped. The setting sun,\ntoo, was painted[1],--a sure warning to people that danger is near. But, in\nspite of all these things, Mik-a'pi determined to go on. He thought of the\npoor widows mourning and waiting for revenge. He thought of the glad\nwelcome of the people, if he should return with many scalps; and he thought\nalso of two young sisters, whom he wanted to marry. Surely, if he could\nreturn and bring the proofs of brave deeds, their parents would be glad to\ngive them to him.\n\n[Footnote 1: Sun dogs.]\n\n\n\nII\n\nIt was nearly night. The sun had already disappeared behind the\nsharp-pointed gray peaks. In the fading light the far-stretching prairie\nwas turning dark. In a valley, sparsely timbered with quaking aspens and\ncotton-woods, stood a large camp. For a long distance up and down the river\nrose the smoke of many lodges. Seated on a little hill overlooking the\nvalley, was a single person. With his robe drawn tightly around him, he sat\nthere motionless, looking down on the prairie and valley below.\n\nSlowly and silently something was crawling through the grass toward\nhim. But he heard nothing. Still he gazed eastward, seeking to discover any\nenemy who might be approaching. Still the dark object crawled slowly\nonward. Now it was so close to him that it could almost touch him. The\nperson thought he heard a sound, and started to turn round. Too late! Too\nlate! A strong arm grasped him about the neck and covered his mouth. A long\njagged knife was thrust into his breast again and again, and he died\nwithout a cry. Strange that in all that great camp no one should have seen\nhim killed!\n\nStill extended on the ground, the dark figure removed the scalp. Slowly he\ncrawled back down the hill, and was lost in the gathering darkness. It was\nMik-a'pi, and he had another Snake scalp tied to his belt. His heart was\nglad, yet he was not satisfied. Some nights had passed since the bad signs\nhad warned him, yet he had succeeded. \"One more,\" he said. \"One more scalp\nI must have, and then I will go back.\" So he went far up on the mountain,\nand hid in some thick pines and slept. When daylight came, he could see\nsmoke rise as the women started their fires. He also saw many people rush\nup on the hill, where the dead watcher lay. He was too far off to hear\ntheir angry shouts and mournful cries, but he sung to himself a song of war\nand was happy.\n\nOnce more the sun went to his lodge behind the mountains, and as darkness\ncame Mik-a'pi slowly descended the mountain and approached the camp. This\nwas the time of danger. Behind each bush, or hidden in a bunch of the tall\nrye grass, some person might be watching to warn the camp of an approaching\nenemy. Slowly and like a snake, he crawled around the outskirts of the\ncamp, listening and looking. He heard a cough and saw a movement of a\nbush. There was a Snake. Could he kill him and yet escape? He was close\nto him now. So he sat and waited, considering how to act. For a long time\nhe sat there waiting. The moon rose and travelled high in the sky. The\nSeven Persons[1] slowly swung around, and pointed downward. It was the\nmiddle of the night. Then the person in the bush stood up and stretched out\nhis arms and yawned, for he was tired of watching, and thought that no\ndanger was near; but as he stood thus, an arrow pierced his breast. He gave\na loud yell and tried to run, but another arrow struck him and he fell.\n\n[Footnote 1: The constellation of the Great Bear.]\n\nAt the sound the warriors rushed forth from the lodges and the outskirts of\nthe camp; but as they came, Mik-a'pi tore the scalp from his fallen enemy,\nand started to run toward the river. Close behind him followed the Snakes.\nArrows whizzed about him. One pierced his arm. He plucked it out. Another\nstruck his leg, and he fell. Then a great shout arose from the\nSnakes. Their enemy was down. Now they would be revenged for two lately\ntaken lives. But where Mik-a'pi fell was the verge of a high rock wall;\nbelow rushed the deep river, and even as they shouted, he rolled from the\nwall, and disappeared in the dark water far below. In vain they searched\nthe shores and bars. They did not find him.\n\nMik-a'pi had sunk deep in the water. The current was swift, and when at\nlast he rose to the surface, he was far below his pursuers. The arrow in\nhis leg pained him, and with difficulty he crawled out on a\nsand-bar. Luckily the arrow was lance-shaped instead of barbed, so he\nmanaged to draw it out. Near by on the bar was a dry pine log, lodged there\nby the high spring water. This he managed to roll into the stream; and,\npartly resting on it, he again drifted down with the current. All night he\nfloated down the river, and when morning came he was far from the camp of\nthe Snakes. Benumbed with cold and stiff from the arrow wounds, he was glad\nto crawl out on the bank, and lie down in the warm sunshine. Soon he slept.\n\n\nIII\n\nThe sun was already in the middle when he awoke. His wounds were swollen\nand painful; yet he hobbled on for a time, until the pain became so great\nhe could go no further, and he sat down, tired and discouraged.\n\n\"True the signs,\" he said. \"How crazy I was to go against them! Useless now\nmy bravery, for here I must stay and die. The widows will still mourn; and\nin their old age who will take care of my father and my mother? Pity me\nnow, oh Sun! Help me, oh great Above Medicine Person! Look down on your\nwounded and suffering child. Help me to survive!\"\n\nWhat was that crackling in the brush near by? Was it the Snakes on his\ntrail? Mik-a'pi strung his bow and drew out his arrows. No; it was not a\nSnake. It was a bear. There he stood, a big grizzly bear, looking down at\nthe wounded man. \"What does my brother here?\" he said. \"Why does he pray\nto survive?\"\n\n\"Look at my leg,\" said Mik-a'pi, \"swollen and sore. Look at my wounded\narm. I can hardly draw the bow. Far the home of my people, and my strength\nis gone. Surely here I must die, for I cannot travel and I have no food.\"\n\n\"Now courage, my brother,\" said the bear. \"Now not faint heart, my brother,\nfor I will help you, and you shall survive.\"\n\nWhen he had said this, he lifted Mik-a'pi and carried him to a place of\nthick mud; and here he took great handfuls[1] of the mud and plastered the\nwounds, and he sung a medicine song while putting on the mud. Then he\ncarried Mik-a'pi to a place where were many sarvis berries, and broke off\ngreat branches of the fruit, and gave them to him, saying, \"Eat, my\nbrother, eat!\" and he broke off more branches, full of large ripe berries,\nfor him; but already Mik-a'pi was satisfied and could eat no more. Then\nsaid the bear, \"Lie down, now, on my back, and hold tight by my hair, and\nwe will travel on.\" And when Mik-a'pi had got on and was ready, he started\noff on a long swinging trot.\n\n[Footnote 1: The bear's paws are called _O-kits-iks,_ the term also for a\nperson's hands. The animal itself is regarded as almost human.]\n\nAll through the night he travelled on without stopping. When morning came,\nthey rested awhile, and ate more berries; and again the bear plastered his\nwounds with mud. In this way they travelled on, until, on the fourth day,\nthey came close to the lodges of the Pik[)u]n'i; and the people saw them\ncoming and wondered.\n\n\"Get off, my brother, get off,\" said the bear. \"There are your people. I\nmust leave you.\" And without another word, he turned and went off up the\nmountain.\n\nAll the people came out to meet the warrior, and they carried him to the\nlodge of his father. He untied the three scalps from his belt and gave them\nto the widows, saying: \"You are revenged. I wipe away your tears.\" And\nevery one rejoiced. All his female relations went through the camp,\nshouting his name and singing, and every one prepared for the scalp dance.\n\nFirst came the widows. Their faces were painted black, and they carried the\nscalps tied on poles. Then came the medicine men, with their medicine pipes\nunwrapped; then the bands of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_, all dressed in war\ncostume; then came the old men; and last the women and children. They all\nsang the war song and danced. They went all through the village in single\nfile, stopping here and there to dance, and Mik-a'pi sat outside the lodge,\nand saw all the people dance by him. He forgot his pain and was proud, and\nalthough he could not dance, he sang with them.\n\nSoon they made the Medicine Lodge, and, first of all the warriors, Mik-a'pi\nwas chosen to cut the raw-hide which binds the poles, and as he cut the\nstrands, he counted the _coups_ he had made. He told of the enemies he had\nkilled, and all the people shouted his name and praised him. The father of\nthose two young sisters gave them to him. He was glad to have such a\nson-in-law. Long lived Mik-a'pi. Of all the great chiefs who have lived and\ndied, he was the greatest. He did many other great and daring things. It\nmust be true, as the old men have said, that he was helped by the ghosts,\nfor no one can do such things without help from those fearful and unknown\npersons.\n\n\n\nHEAVY COLLAR AND THE GHOST WOMAN\n\n\nThe Blood camp was on Old Man's River, where Fort McLeod now stands. A\nparty of seven men started to war toward the Cypress Hills. Heavy Collar\nwas the leader. They went around the Cypress Mountains, but found no\nenemies and started back toward their camp. On their homeward way, Heavy\nCollar used to take the lead. He would go out far ahead on the high hills,\nand look over the country, acting as scout for the party. At length they\ncame to the south branch of the Saskatchewan River, above Seven Persons'\nCreek. In those days there were many war parties about, and this party\ntravelled concealed as much as possible in the coul\u00e9es and low places.\n\nAs they were following up the river, they saw at a distance three old bulls\nlying down close to a cut bank. Heavy Collar left his party, and went out\nto kill one of these bulls, and when he had come close to them, he shot one\nand killed it right there. He cut it up, and, as he was hungry, he went\ndown into a ravine below him, to roast a piece of meat; for he had left his\nparty a long way behind, and night was now coming on. As he was roasting\nthe meat, he thought,--for he was very tired,--\"It is a pity I did not\nbring one of my young men with me. He could go up on that hill and get some\nhair from that bull's head, and I could wipe out my gun.\" While he sat\nthere thinking this, and talking to himself, a bunch of this hair came over\nhim through the air, and fell on the ground right in front of him. When\nthis happened, it frightened him a little; for he thought that perhaps some\nof his enemies were close by, and had thrown the bunch of hair at\nhim. After a little while, he took the hair, and cleaned his gun and loaded\nit, and then sat and watched for a time. He was uneasy, and at length\ndecided that he would go on further up the river, to see what he could\ndiscover. He went on, up the stream, until he came to the mouth of the\nSt. Mary's River. It was now very late in the night, and he was very tired,\nso he crept into a large bunch of rye-grass to hide and sleep for the\nnight.\n\nThe summer before this, the Blackfeet _(Sik-si-kau)_ had been camped on\nthis bottom, and a woman had been killed in this same patch of rye-grass\nwhere Heavy Collar had lain down to rest. He did not know this, but still\nhe seemed to be troubled that night. He could not sleep. He could always\nhear something, but what it was he could not make out. He tried to go to\nsleep, but as soon as he dozed off he kept thinking he heard something in\nthe distance. He spent the night there, and in the morning when it became\nlight, there he saw right beside him the skeleton of the woman who had been\nkilled the summer before.\n\nThat morning he went on, following up the stream to Belly River. All day\nlong as he was travelling, he kept thinking about his having slept by this\nwoman's bones. It troubled him. He could not forget it. At the same time he\nwas very tired, because he had walked so far and had slept so little. As\nnight came on, he crossed over to an island, and determined to camp for the\nnight. At the upper end of the island was a large tree that had drifted\ndown and lodged, and in a fork of this tree he built his fire, and got in a\ncrotch of one of the forks, and sat with his back to the fire, warming\nhimself, but all the time he was thinking about the woman he had slept\nbeside the night before. As he sat there, all at once he heard over beyond\nthe tree, on the other side of the fire, a sound as if something were being\ndragged toward him along the ground. It sounded as if a piece of a lodge\nwere being dragged over the grass. It came closer and closer.\n\nHeavy Collar was scared. He was afraid to turn his head and look back to\nsee what it was that was coming. He heard the noise come up to the tree in\nwhich his fire was built, and then it stopped, and all at once he heard\nsome one whistling a tune. He turned around and looked toward the sound,\nand there, sitting on the other fork of the tree, right opposite to him,\nwas the pile of bones by which he had slept, only now all together in the\nshape of a skeleton. This ghost had on it a lodge covering. The string,\nwhich is tied to the pole, was fastened about the ghost's neck; the wings\nof the lodge stood out on either side of its head, and behind it the lodge\ncould be seen, stretched out and fading away into the darkness. The ghost\nsat on the old dead limb and whistled its tune, and as it whistled, it\nswung its legs in time to the tune.\n\nWhen Heavy Collar saw this, his heart almost melted away. At length he\nmustered up courage, and said: \"Oh ghost, go away, and do not trouble me. I\nam very tired; I want to rest.\" The ghost paid no attention to him, but\nkept on whistling, swinging its legs in time to the tune. Four times he\nprayed to her, saying: \"Oh ghost, take pity on me! Go away and leave me\nalone. I am tired; I want to rest.\" The more he prayed, the more the ghost\nwhistled and seemed pleased, swinging her legs, and turning her head from\nside to side, sometimes looking down at him, and sometimes up at the stars,\nand all the time whistling.\n\nWhen he saw that she took no notice of what he said, Heavy Collar got angry\nat heart, and said, \"Well, ghost, you do not listen to my prayers, and I\nshall have to shoot you to drive you away.\" With that he seized his gun,\nand throwing it to his shoulder, shot right at the ghost. When he shot at\nher, she fell over backward into the darkness, screaming out: \"Oh Heavy\nCollar, you have shot me, you have killed me! You dog, Heavy Collar! there\nis no place on this earth where you can go that I will not find you; no\nplace where you can hide that I will not come.\"\n\nAs she fell back and said this, Heavy Collar sprang to his feet, and ran\naway as fast as he could. She called after him: \"I have been killed once,\nand now you are trying to kill me again. Oh Heavy Collar!\" As he ran away,\nhe could still hear her angry words following him, until at last they died\naway in the distance. He ran all night long, and whenever he stopped to\nbreathe and listen, he seemed to hear in the distance the echoes of her\nvoice. All he could hear was, \"Oh Heavy Collar!\" and then he would rush\naway again. He ran until he was all tired out, and by this time it was\ndaylight. He was now quite a long way below Fort McLeod. He was very\nsleepy, but dared not lie down, for he remembered that the ghost had said\nthat she would follow him. He kept walking on for some time, and then sat\ndown to rest, and at once fell asleep.\n\nBefore he had left his party, Heavy Collar had said to his young men: \"Now\nremember, if any one of us should get separated from the party, let him\nalways travel to the Belly River Buttes. There will be our meeting-place.\"\nWhen their leader did not return to them, the party started across the\ncountry and went toward the Belly River Buttes. Heavy Collar had followed\nthe river up, and had gone a long distance out of his way; and when he\nawoke from his sleep he too started straight for the Belly River Buttes, as\nhe had said he would.\n\nWhen his party reached the Buttes, one of them went up on top of the hill\nto watch. After a time, as he looked down the river, he saw two persons\ncoming, and as they came nearer, he saw that one of them was Heavy Collar,\nand by his side was a woman. The watcher called up the rest of the party,\nand said to them: \"Here comes our chief. He has had luck. He is bringing a\nwoman with him. If he brings her into camp, we will take her away from\nhim.\" And they all laughed. They supposed that he had captured her. They\nwent down to the camp, and sat about the fire, looking at the two people\ncoming, and laughing among themselves at the idea of their chief bringing\nin a woman. When the two persons had come close, they could see that Heavy\nCollar was walking fast, and the woman would walk by his side a little way,\ntrying to keep up, and then would fall behind, and then trot along to catch\nup to him again. Just before the pair reached camp there was a deep ravine\nthat they had to cross. They went down into this side by side, and then\nHeavy Collar came up out of it alone, and came on into the camp.\n\nWhen he got there, all the young men began to laugh at him and to call out,\n\"Heavy Collar, where is your woman?\" He looked at them for a moment, and\nthen said: \"Why, I have no woman. I do not understand what you are talking\nabout.\" One of them said: \"Oh, he has hidden her in that ravine. He was\nafraid to bring her into camp.\" Another said, \"Where did you capture her,\nand what tribe does she belong to?\" Heavy Collar looked from one to\nanother, and said: \"I think you are all crazy. I have taken no woman. What\ndo you mean?\" The young man said: \"Why, that woman that you had with you\njust now: where did you get her, and where did you leave her? Is she down\nin the coul\u00e9e? We all saw her, and it is no use to deny that she was with\nyou. Come now, where is she?\" When they said this, Heavy Collar's heart\ngrew very heavy, for he knew that it must have been the ghost woman; and he\ntold them the story. Some of the young men could not believe this, and they\nran down to the ravine, where they had last seen the woman. There they saw\nin the soft dirt the tracks made by Heavy Collar, when he went down into\nthe ravine, but there were no other tracks near his, where they had seen\nthe woman walking. When they found that it was a ghost that had come along\nwith Heavy Collar, they resolved to go back to their main camp. The party\nhad been out so long that their moccasins were all worn out, and some of\nthem were footsore, so that they could not travel fast, but at last they\ncame to the cut banks, and there found their camp--seven lodges.\n\nThat night, after they had reached camp, they were inviting each other to\nfeasts. It was getting pretty late in the night, and the moon was shining\nbrightly, when one of the Bloods called out for Heavy Collar to come and\neat with him. Heavy Collar shouted, \"Yes, I will be there pretty soon.\" He\ngot up and went out of the lodge, and went a little way from it, and sat\ndown. While he was sitting there, a big bear walked out of the brush close\nto him. Heavy Collar felt around him for a stone to throw at the bear, so\nas to scare it away, for he thought it had not seen him. As he was feeling\nabout, his hand came upon a piece of bone, and he threw this over at the\nbear, and hit it. Then the bear spoke, and said: \"Well, well, well, Heavy\nCollar; you have killed me once, and now here you are hitting me. Where is\nthere a place in this world where you can hide from me? I will find you, I\ndon't care where you may go.\" When Heavy Collar heard this, he knew it was\nthe ghost woman, and he jumped up and ran toward his lodge, calling out,\n\"Run, run! a ghost bear is upon us!\"\n\nAll the people in the camp ran to his lodge, so that it was crowded full of\npeople. There was a big fire in the lodge, and the wind was blowing hard\nfrom the west. Men, women, and children were huddled together in the lodge,\nand were very much afraid of the ghost. They could hear her walking toward\nthe lodge, grumbling, and saying: \"I will kill all these dogs. Not one of\nthem shall get away.\" The sounds kept coming closer and closer, until they\nwere right at the lodge door. Then she said, \"I will smoke you to death.\"\nAnd as she said this, she moved the poles, so that the wings of the lodge\nturned toward the west, and the wind could blow in freely through the smoke\nhole. All this time she was threatening terrible things against them. The\nlodge began to get full of smoke, and the children were crying, and all\nwere in great distress--almost suffocating. So they said, \"Let us lift one\nman up here inside, and let him try to fix the ears, so that the lodge will\nget clear of smoke.\" They raised a man up, and he was standing on the\nshoulders of the others, and, blinded and half strangled by the smoke, was\ntrying to turn the wings. While he was doing this, the ghost suddenly hit\nthe lodge a blow, and said, \"_Un_!\" and this scared the people who were\nholding the man, and they jumped and let him go, and he fell down. Then the\npeople were in despair, and said, \"It is no use; she is resolved to smoke\nus to death.\" All the time the smoke was getting thicker in the lodge.\n\nHeavy Collar said: \"Is it possible that she can destroy us? Is there no one\nhere who has some strong dream power that can overcome this ghost?\"\n\nHis mother said: \"I will try to do something. I am older than any of you,\nand I will see what I can do.\" So she got down her medicine bundle and\npainted herself, and got out a pipe and filled it and lighted it, and stuck\nthe stem out through the lodge door, and sat there and began to pray to the\nghost woman. She said: \"Oh ghost, take pity on us, and go away. We have\nnever wronged you, but you are troubling us and frightening our\nchildren. Accept what I offer you, and leave us alone.\"\n\nA voice came from behind the lodge and said: \"No, no, no; you dogs, I will\nnot listen to you. Every one of you must die.\"\n\nThe old woman repeated her prayer: \"Ghost, take pity on us. Accept this\nsmoke and go away.\"\n\nThen the ghost said: \"How can you expect me to smoke, when I am way back\nhere? Bring that pipe out here. I have no long bill to reach round the\nlodge.\" So the old woman went out of the lodge door, and reached out the\nstem of the pipe as far as she could reach around toward the back of the\nlodge. The ghost said: \"No, I do not wish to go around there to where you\nhave that pipe. If you want me to smoke it, you must bring it here.\" The\nold woman went around the lodge toward her, and the ghost woman began to\nback away, and said, \"No, I do not smoke that kind of a pipe.\" And when the\nghost started away, the old woman followed her, and she could not help\nherself.\n\nShe called out, \"Oh my children, the ghost is carrying me off!\" Heavy\nCollar rushed out, and called to the others, \"Come, and help me take my\nmother from the ghost.\" He grasped his mother about the waist and held her,\nand another man took him by the waist, and another him, until they were all\nstrung out, one behind the other, and all following the old woman, who was\nfollowing the ghost woman, who was walking away.\n\nAll at once the old woman let go of the pipe, and fell over dead. The ghost\ndisappeared, and they were troubled no more by the ghost woman.\n\n\n\nTHE WOLF-MAN\n\n\nThere was once a man who had two bad wives. They had no shame. The man\nthought if he moved away where there were no other people, he might teach\nthese women to become good, so he moved his lodge away off on the prairie.\nNear where they camped was a high butte, and every evening about sundown,\nthe man would go up on top of it, and look all over the country to see\nwhere the buffalo were feeding, and if any enemies were approaching. There\nwas a buffalo skull on the hill, which he used to sit on.\n\n\"This is very lonesome,\" said one woman to the other, one day. \"We have no\none to talk with nor to visit.\"\n\n\"Let us kill our husband,\" said the other. \"Then we will go back to our\nrelations and have a good time.\"\n\nEarly in the morning, the man went out to hunt, and as soon as he was out\nof sight, his wives went up on top of the butte. There they dug a deep pit,\nand covered it over with light sticks, grass, and dirt, and placed the\nbuffalo skull on top.\n\nIn the afternoon they saw their husband coming home, loaded down with meat\nhe had killed. So they hurried to cook for him. After eating, he went up on\nthe butte and sat down on the skull. The slender sticks gave way, and he\nfell into the pit. His wives were watching him, and when they saw him\ndisappear, they took down the lodge, packed everything on the dog travois,\nand moved off, going toward the main camp. When they got near it, so that\nthe people could hear them, they began to cry and mourn.\n\n\"Why is this?\" they were asked. \"Why are you mourning? Where is your\nhusband?\"\n\n\"He is dead,\" they replied. \"Five days ago he went out to hunt, and he\nnever came back.\" And they cried and mourned again.\n\nWhen the man fell into the pit, he was hurt. After a while he tried to get\nout, but he was so badly bruised he could not climb up. A wolf, travelling\nalong, came to the pit and saw him, and pitied him. _Ah-h-w-o-o-o-o!\nAh-h-w-o-o-o-o!_ he howled, and when the other wolves heard him they all\ncame running to see what was the matter. There came also many coyotes,\nbadgers, and kit-foxes.\n\n\"In this hole,\" said the wolf, \"is my find. Here is a fallen-in man. Let us\ndig him out, and we will have him for our brother.\"\n\nThey all thought the wolf spoke well, and began to dig. In a little while\nthey had a hole close to the man. Then the wolf who found him said, \"Hold\non; I want to speak a few words to you.\" All the animals listening, he\ncontinued, \"We will all have this man for our brother, but I found him, so\nI think he ought to live with us big wolves.\" All the others said that this\nwas well; so the wolf went into the hole, and tearing down the rest of the\ndirt, dragged the almost dead man out. They gave him a kidney to eat, and\nwhen he was able to walk a little, the big wolves took him to their\nhome. Here there was a very old blind wolf, who had powerful medicine. He\ncured the man, and made his head and hands look like those of a wolf. The\nrest of his body was not changed.\n\nIn those days the people used to make holes in the pis'kun walls and set\nsnares, and when wolves and other animals came to steal meat, they were\ncaught by the neck. One night the wolves all went down to the pis'kun to\nsteal meat, and when they got close to it, the man-wolf said: \"Stand here a\nlittle while. I will go down and fix the places, so you will not be\ncaught.\" He went on and sprung all the snares; then he went back and called\nthe wolves and others,--the coyotes, badgers, and foxes,--and they all went\nin the pis'kun and feasted, and took meat to carry home.\n\nIn the morning the people were surprised to find the meat gone, and their\nnooses all drawn out. They wondered how it could have been done. For many\nnights the nooses were drawn and the meat stolen; but once, when the wolves\nwent there to steal, they found only the meat of a scabby bull, and the\nman-wolf was angry, and cried out: \"Bad-you-give-us-o-o-o!\nBad-you-give-us-o-o-o-o!\"\n\nThe people heard him, and said: \"It is a man-wolf who has done all this. We\nwill catch him.\" So they put pemmican and nice back fat in the pis'kun, and\nmany hid close by. After dark the wolves came again, and when the man-wolf\nsaw the good food, he ran to it and began eating. Then the people all\nrushed in and caught him with ropes and took him to a lodge. When they got\ninside to the light of the fire, they knew at once who it was. They said,\n\"This is the man who was lost.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the man, \"I was not lost. My wives tried to kill me. They dug a\ndeep hole, and I fell into it, and I was hurt so badly that I could not get\nout; but the wolves took pity on me and helped me, or I would have died\nthere.\"\n\nWhen the people heard this, they were angry, and they told the man to do\nsomething.\n\n\"You say well,\" he replied. \"I give those women to the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi;_\nthey know what to do.\"\n\nAfter that night the two women were never seen again.\n\n\n\nTHE FAST RUNNERS\n\n\nOnce, long ago, the antelope and the deer met on the prairie. At this time\nboth of them had galls and both dew claws. They began to talk together, and\neach was telling the other what he could do. Each one told how fast he\ncould run, and before long they were disputing as to which could run the\nfaster. Neither would allow that the other could beat him, so they agreed\nthat they would have a race to decide which was the swifter, and they bet\ntheir galls on the race. When they ran, the antelope proved the faster\nrunner, and beat the deer and took his gall.\n\nThen the deer said: \"Yes, you have beaten me on the prairie, but that is\nnot where I live. I only go out there sometimes to feed, or when I am\ntravelling around. We ought to have another race in the timber. That is my\nhome, and there I can run faster than you can.\"\n\nThe antelope felt very big because he had beaten the deer in the race, and\nhe thought wherever they might be, he could run faster than the deer. So he\nagreed to race in the timber, and on this race they bet their dew claws.\n\nThey ran through the thick timber, among the brush and over fallen logs,\nand this time the antelope ran slowly, because he was not used to this kind\nof travelling, and the deer easily beat him, and took his dew claws.\n\nSince then the deer has had no gall, and the antelope no dew claws.\n\n[NOTE. A version of the first portion of this story is current among the\nPawnees, and has been printed in Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk Tales.]\n\n\n\nTWO WAR TRAILS\n\n\nI\n\nMany years ago there lived in the Blood camp a boy named Screech Owl\n(A'-tsi-tsi). He was rather a lonely boy, and did not care to go with other\nboys. He liked better to be by himself. Often he would go off alone, and\nstay out all night away from the camp. He used to pray to all kinds of\nbirds and animals that he saw, and ask them to take pity on him and help\nhim, saying that he wanted to be a warrior. He never used paint. He was a\nfine looking young man, and he thought it was foolish to use paint to make\noneself good looking.\n\nWhen Screech Owl was about fourteen years old, a large party of Blackfeet\nwere starting to war against the Crees and the Assinaboines. The young man\nsaid to his father: \"Father, with this war party many of my cousins are\ngoing. I think that now I am old enough to go to war, and I would like to\njoin them.\" His father said, \"My son, I am willing; you may go.\" So he\njoined the party.\n\nHis father gave his son his own war horse, a black horse with a white spot\non its side--a very fast horse. He offered him arms, but the boy refused\nthem all, except a little trapping axe. He said, \"I think this hatchet will\nbe all that I shall need.\" Just as they were about to start, his father\ngave the boy his own war headdress. This was not a war bonnet, but a plume\nmade of small feathers, the feathers of thunder birds, for the thunder bird\nwas his father's medicine. He said to the boy, \"Now, my son, when you go\ninto battle, put this plume in your head, and wear it as I have worn it.\"\n\nThe party started and travelled north-east, and at length they came to\nwhere Fort Pitt now stands, on the Saskatchewan River. When they had got\ndown below Fort Pitt, they saw three riders, going out hunting. These men\nhad not seen the war party. The Blackfeet started around the men, so as to\nhead them off when they should run. When they saw the men, the Screech Owl\ngot off his horse, and took off all his clothes, and put on his father's\nwar plume, and began to ride around, singing his father's war song. The\nolder warriors were getting ready for the attack, and when they saw this\nyoung boy acting in this way, they thought he was making fun of the older\nmen, and they said: \"Here, look at this boy! Has he no shame? He had better\nstay behind.\" When they got on their horses, they told him to stay behind,\nand they charged the Crees. But the boy, instead of staying behind, charged\nwith them, and took the lead, for he had the best horse of all. He, a boy,\nwas leading the war party, and still singing his war song.\n\nThe three Crees began to run, and the boy kept gaining on them. They did\nnot want to separate, they kept together; and as the boy was getting closer\nand closer, the last one turned in his saddle and shot at the Screech Owl,\nbut missed him. As the Cree fired, the boy whipped up his horse, and rode\nup beside the Cree and struck him with his little trapping axe, and knocked\nhim off his horse. He paid no attention to the man that he had struck, but\nrode on to the next Cree. As he came up with him, the Cree raised his gun\nand fired, but just as he did so, the Blackfoot dropped down on the other\nside of his horse, and the ball passed over him. He straightened up on his\nhorse, rode up by the Cree, and as he passed, knocked him off his horse\nwith his axe. When he knocked the second Cree off his horse, the Blackfeet,\nwho were following, whooped in triumph and to encourage him, shouting,\n\"_A-wah-heh'_\" (Take courage). The boy was still singing his father's war\nsong.\n\nBy this time, the main body of the Blackfeet were catching up with him. He\nwhipped his horse on both sides, and rode on after the third Cree, who was\nalso whipping his horse as hard as he could, and trying to get\naway. Meantime, some of the Blackfeet had stopped to count _coup_ on and\nscalp the two dead Crees, and to catch the two ponies. Screech Owl at last\ngot near to the third Cree, who kept aiming his gun at him. The boy did not\nwant to get too close, until the Cree had fired his gun, but he was gaining\na little, and all the time was throwing himself from side to side on his\nhorse, so as to make it harder for the Cree to hit him. When he had nearly\novertaken the enemy, the Cree turned, raised his gun and fired; but the boy\nhad thrown himself down behind his horse, and again the ball passed over\nhim. He raised himself up on his horse, and rushed on the Cree, and struck\nhim in the side of the body with his axe, and then again, and with the\nsecond blow, he knocked him off his horse.\n\nThe boy rode on a little further, stopped, and jumped off his horse, while\nthe rest of the Blackfeet had come up and were killing the fallen man. He\nstood off to one side and watched them count _coup_ on and scalp the dead.\n\nThe Blackfeet were much surprised at what the young man had done. After a\nlittle while, the leader decided that they would go back to the camp from\nwhich they had come. When he had returned from this war journey this young\nman's name was changed from A'-tsi-tsi to E-k[=u]s'-kini (Low Horn). This\nwas his first war path.\n\nFrom that time on the name of E-k[=u]s'-kini was often heard as that of one\ndoing some great deed.\n\n\n\nII\n\nE-k[=u]s'-kini started on his last war trail from the Black-foot crossing\n_(Su-yoh-pah'-wah-ku)_. He led a party of six Sarcees. He was the seventh\nman.\n\nOn the second day out, they came to the Red Deer's River. When they reached\nthis river, they found it very high, so they built a raft to cross on. They\ncamped on the other side. In crossing, most of their powder got wet. The\nnext morning, when they awoke, E-k[=u]s'-kini said: \"Well, trouble is\ncoming for us. We had better go back from here. We started on a wrong\nday. I saw in my sleep our bodies lying on the prairie, dead.\" Some of the\nyoung men said: \"Oh well, we have started, we had better go on. Perhaps it\nis only a mistake. Let us go on and try to take some horses anyhow.\"\nE-k[=u]s'-kini said: \"Yes, that is very true. To go home is all\nfoolishness; but remember that it is by your wish that we are going on.\"\nHe wanted to go back, not on his own account, but for the sake of his young\nmen--to save his followers.\n\nFrom there they went on and made another camp, and the next morning he said\nto his young men: \"Now I am sure. I have seen it for certain. Trouble is\nbefore us.\" They camped two nights at this place and dried some of their\npowder, but most of it was caked and spoilt. He said to his young men:\n\"Here, let us use some sense about this. We have no ammunition. We cannot\ndefend ourselves. Let us turn back from here.\" So they started across the\ncountry for their camp.\n\nThey crossed the Red Deer's River, and there camped again. The next morning\nE-k[=u]s'-kini said: \"I feel very uneasy to-day. Two of you go ahead on the\ntrail and keep a close lookout. I am afraid that to-day we are going to see\nour enemy.\" Two of the young men went ahead, and when they had climbed to\nthe top of a ridge and looked over it on to Sarvis Berry (Saskatoon) Creek,\nthey came back and told E-k[=u]s'-kini that they had seen a large camp of\npeople over there, and that they thought it was the Piegans, Bloods,\nBlackfeet, and Sarcees, who had all moved over there together. Saskatoon\nCreek was about twenty miles from the Blackfoot camp. He said: \"No, it\ncannot be our people. They said nothing about moving over here; it must be\na war party. It is only a few days since we left, and there was then no\ntalk of their leaving that camp. It cannot be they.\" The two young men\nsaid: \"Yes, they are our people. There are too many of them for a war\nparty. We think that the whole camp is there.\" They discussed this for some\nlittle time, E-k[=u]s'-kini insisting that it could not be the Blackfoot\ncamp, while the young men felt sure that it was. These two men said, \"Well,\nwe are going on into the camp now.\" Low Horn said: \"Well, you may go. Tell\nmy father that I will come into the camp to-night. I do not like to go in\nin the daytime, when I am not bringing back anything with me.\"\n\nIt was now late in the afternoon, and the two young men went ahead toward\nthe camp, travelling on slowly. A little after sundown, they came down the\nhill on to the flat of the river, and saw there the camp. They walked down\ntoward it, to the edge of the stream, and there met two women, who had come\ndown after water. The men spoke to them in Sarcee, and said, \"Where is the\nSarcee camp?\" The women did not understand them, so they spoke again, and\nasked the same question in Blackfoot. Then these two women called out in\nthe Cree language, \"Here are two Blackfeet, who have come here and are\ntalking to us.\" When these men heard the women talk Cree, and saw what a\nmistake they had made, they turned and ran away up the creek. They ran up\nabove camp a short distance, to a place where a few willow bushes were\nhanging over the stream, and pushing through these, they hid under the\nbank, and the willows above concealed them. The people in the camp came\nrushing out, and men ran up the creek, and down, and looked everywhere for\nthe two enemies, but could find nothing of them.\n\nNow when these people were running in all directions, hunting for these two\nmen, E-k[=u]s'-kini was coming down the valley slowly with the four other\nSarcees. He saw some Indians coming toward him, and supposed that they were\nsome of his own people, coming to meet him, with horses for him to ride. At\nlength, when they were close to him, and E-k[=u]s'-kini could see that they\nwere the enemy, and were taking the covers off their guns, he jumped to one\nside and stood alone and began to sing his war song. He called out,\n\"Children of the Crees, if you have come to try my manhood, do your best.\"\nIn a moment or two he was surrounded, and they were shooting at him from\nall directions. He called out again, \"People, you can't kill me here, but\nI will take my body to your camp, and there you shall kill me.\" So he\nadvanced, fighting his way toward the Cree camp, but before he started, he\nkilled two of the Crees there. His enemies kept coming up and clustering\nabout him: some were on foot and some on horseback. They were thick about\nhim on all sides, and they could not shoot much at him, for fear of killing\ntheir own people on the other side.\n\nOne of the Sarcees fell. E-k[=u]s'-kini said to his men, \"_A-wah-heh'_\"\n(Take courage). \"These people cannot kill us here. Where that patch of\nchoke-cherry brush is, in the very centre of their camp, we will go and\ntake our stand.\" Another Sarcee fell, and now there were only three of\nthem. E-k[=u]s'-kini said to his remaining men: \"Go straight to that patch\nof brush, and I will fight the enemy off in front and at the sides, and so\nwill keep the way open for you. These people cannot kill us here. There are\ntoo many of their own people. If we can get to that brush, we will hurt\nthem badly.\" All this time they were killing enemies, fighting bravely, and\nsinging their war songs. At last they gained the patch of brush, and then\nwith their knives they began to dig holes in the ground, and to throw up a\nshelter.\n\nIn the Cree camp was K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s (Round), the chief of the\nCrees, who could talk Blackfoot well. He called out: \"E-k[=u]s'-kini, there\nis a little ravine running out of that brush patch, which puts into the\nhills. Crawl out through that, and try to get away. It is not guarded.\"\nE-k[=u]s'-kini replied: \"No, Children of the Crees, I will not go. You must\nremember that it is E-k[=u]s'-kini that you are fighting with--a man who\nhas done much harm to your people. I am glad that I am here. I am sorry for\nonly one thing; that is, that my ammunition is going to run out. To-morrow\nyou may kill me.\"\n\nAll night long the fight was kept up, the enemy shooting all the time, and\nall night long E-k[=u]s'-kini sang his death song. K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s\ncalled to him several times: \"E-k[=u]s'-kini, you had better do what I tell\nyou. Try to get away.\" But he shouted back, \"No,\" and laughed at them. He\nsaid: \"You have killed all my men. I am here alone, but you cannot kill\nme.\" K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s, the chief, said: \"Well, if you are there at\ndaylight in the morning, I will go into that brush and will catch you with\nmy hands. I will be the man who will put an end to you.\" E-k[=u]s'-kini\nsaid: \"K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s, do not try to do that. If you do, you shall\nsurely die.\" The patch of brush in which he had hidden had now been all\nshot away, cut off by the bullets of the enemy.\n\nWhen day came, E-k[=u]s'-kini called out: \"Eh, K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s, it\nis broad daylight now. I have run out of ammunition. I have not another\ngrain of powder in my horn. Now come and take me in your hands, as you\nsaid you would.\" K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s answered: \"Yes, I said that I was\nthe one who was going to catch you this morning. Now I am coming.\"\n\nHe took off all his clothes, and alone rushed for the\nbreastworks. E-k[=u]s'-kini's ammunition was all gone, but he still had one\nload in his gun, and his dagger. K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s came on with his\ngun at his shoulder, and E-k[=u]s'-kini sat there with his gun in his hand,\nlooking at the man who was coming toward him with the cocked gun pointed at\nhim. He was singing his death song. As K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s got up close,\nand just as he was about to fire, E-k[=u]s'-kini threw up his gun and\nfired, and the ball knocked off the Cree chiefs forefinger, and going on,\nentered his right eye and came out at the temple, knocking the eye\nout. K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s went down, and his gun flew a long way.\n\nWhen K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s fell, the whole camp shouted the war whoop, and\ncried out, \"This is his last shot,\" and they all charged on him. They knew\nthat he had no more ammunition.\n\nThe head warrior of the Crees was named Bunch of Lodges. He was the first\nman to jump inside the breastworks. As he sprang inside, E-k[=u]s'-kini\nmet him, and thrust his dagger through him, and killed him on the spot.\nThen, as the enemy threw themselves on him, and he began to feel the knives\nstuck into him from all sides, he gave a war whoop and laughed, and said,\n\"Only now I begin to think that I am fighting.\" All the time he was cutting\nand stabbing, jumping backward and forward, and all the time laughing. When\nhe was dead, there were fifteen dead Crees lying about the\nearthworks. E-k[=u]s'-kini body was cut into small pieces and scattered all\nover the country, so that he might not come to life again.\n\n\nIII\n\nThat morning, before it was daylight, the two Sarcees who had hidden in the\nwillows left their hiding-place and made their way to the Blackfoot\ncamp. When they got there, they told that when they had left the Cree camp\nE-k[=u]s'kini was surrounded, and the firing was terrible. When\nE-k[=u]s'-kini's father heard this, he got on his horse and rode through\nthe camp, calling out: \"My boy is surrounded; let us turn out and go to\nhelp him. I have no doubt they are many tens to one, but he is powerful,\nand he may be fighting yet.\" No time was lost in getting ready, and soon a\nlarge party started for the Cree camp. When they came to the battle-ground,\nthe camp had been moved a long time. The old man looked about, trying to\ngather up his son's body, but it was found only in small pieces, and not\nmore than half of it could be gathered up.\n\nAfter the fight was over, the Crees started on down to go to their own\ncountry. One day six Crees were travelling along on foot, scouting far\nahead. As they were going down into a little ravine, a grizzly bear jumped\nup in front of them and ran after them. The bear overtook, and tore up,\nfive of them, one after another. The sixth got away, and came home to\ncamp. The Crees and the Blackfeet believe that this was the spirit of\nE-k[=u]s'-kini, for thus he comes back. They think that he is still on the\nearth, but in a different shape.\n\nE-k[=u]s'-kini was killed about forty years ago. When he was killed, he was\nstill a boy, not married, only about twenty-four years old.\n\n\n\n\n\nSTORIES OF ANCIENT TIMES\n\n\n\n\n\nSCARFACE\n\nORIGIN OF THE MEDICINE LODGE\n\n\nI\n\nIn the earliest times there was no war. All the tribes were at peace. In\nthose days there was a man who had a daughter, a very beautiful girl. Many\nyoung men wanted to marry her, but every time she was asked, she only shook\nher head and said she did not want a husband.\n\n\"How is this?\" asked her father. \"Some of these young men are rich,\nhandsome, and brave.\"\n\n\"Why should I marry?\" replied the girl. \"I have a rich father and\nmother. Our lodge is good. The parfleches are never empty. There are plenty\nof tanned robes and soft furs for winter. Why worry me, then?\"\n\nThe Raven Bearers held a dance; they all dressed carefully and wore their\nornaments, and each one tried to dance the best. Afterwards some of them\nasked for this girl, but still she said no. Then the Bulls, the Kit-foxes,\nand others of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_ held their dances, and all those who\nwere rich, many great warriors, asked this man for his daughter, but to\nevery one of them she said no. Then her father was angry, and said: \"Why,\nnow, this way? All the best men have asked for you, and still you say no. I\nbelieve you have a secret lover.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said her mother. \"What shame for us should a child be born and our\ndaughter still unmarried!\" \"Father! mother!\" replied the girl, \"pity me. I\nhave no secret lover, but now hear the truth. That Above Person, the Sun,\ntold me, 'Do not marry any of those men, for you are mine; thus you shall\nbe happy, and live to great age'; and again he said, 'Take heed. You must\nnot marry. You are mine.'\"\n\n\"Ah!\" replied her father. \"It must always be as he says.\" And they talked\nno more about it.\n\nThere was a poor young man, very poor. His father, mother, all his\nrelations, had gone to the Sand Hills. He had no lodge, no wife to tan his\nrobes or sew his moccasins. He stopped in one lodge to-day, and to-morrow\nhe ate and slept in another; thus he lived. He was a good-looking young\nman, except that on his cheek he had a scar, and his clothes were always\nold and poor.\n\nAfter those dances some of the young men met this poor Scarface, and they\nlaughed at him, and said: \"Why don't you ask that girl to marry you? You\nare so rich and handsome!\" Scarface did not laugh; he replied: \"Ah! I will\ndo as you say. I will go and ask her.\" All the young men thought this was\nfunny. They laughed a great deal. But Scarface went down by the river. He\nwaited by the river, where the women came to get water, and by and by the\ngirl came along. \"Girl,\" he said, \"wait. I want to speak with you. Not as a\ndesigning person do I ask you, but openly where the Sun looks down, and all\nmay see.\"\n\n\"Speak then,\" said the girl.\n\n\"I have seen the days,\" continued the young man \"You have refused those who\nare young, and rich, and brave. Now, to-day, they laughed and said to me,\n'Why do you not ask her?' I am poor, very poor. I have no lodge, no food,\nno clothes, no robes and warm furs. I have no relations; all have gone to\nthe Sand Hills; yet, now, to-day, I ask you, take pity, be my wife.\"\n\nThe girl hid her face in her robe and brushed the ground with the point of\nher moccasin, back and forth, back and forth; for she was thinking. After a\ntime she said: \"True. I have refused all those rich young men, yet now the\npoor one asks me, and I am glad. I will be your wife, and my people will be\nhappy. You are poor, but it does not matter. My father will give you\ndogs. My mother will make us a lodge. My people will give us robes and\nfurs. You will be poor no longer.\"\n\nThen the young man was happy, and he started to kiss her, but she held him\nback, and said: \"Wait! The Sun has spoken to me. He says I may not marry;\nthat I belong to him. He says if I listen to him, I shall live to great\nage. But now I say: Go to the Sun. Tell him, 'She whom you spoke with\nheeds your words. She has never done wrong, but now she wants to marry. I\nwant her for my wife.' Ask him to take that scar from your face. That will\nbe his sign. I will know he is pleased. But if he refuses, or if you fail\nto find his lodge, then do not return to me.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" cried the young man, \"at first your words were good. I was glad. But\nnow it is dark. My heart is dead. Where is that far-off lodge? where the\ntrail, which no one yet has travelled?\"\n\n\"Take courage, take courage!\" said the girl; and she went to her lodge.\n\n\nII\n\nScarface was very sad. He sat down and covered his head with his robe and\ntried to think what to do. After a while he got up, and went to an old\nwoman who had been kind to him. \"Pity me,\" he said. \"I am very poor. I am\ngoing away now on a long journey. Make me some moccasins.\"\n\n\"Where are you going?\" asked the old woman. \"There is no war; we are very\npeaceful here.\"\n\n\"I do not know where I shall go,\" replied Scarface. \"I am in trouble, but I\ncannot tell you now what it is.\"\n\nSo the old woman made him some moccasins, seven pairs, with parfleche\nsoles, and also she gave him a sack of food,--pemmican of berries, pounded\nmeat, and dried back fat; for this old woman had a good heart. She liked\nthe young man.\n\nAll alone, and with a sad heart, he climbed the bluffs and stopped to take\na last look at the camp. He wondered if he would ever see his sweetheart\nand the people again. \"_ Hai'-yu!_ Pity me, O Sun,\" he prayed, and turning,\nhe started to find the trail.\n\nFor many days he travelled on, over great prairies, along timbered rivers\nand among the mountains, and every day his sack of food grew lighter; but\nhe saved it as much as he could, and ate berries, and roots, and sometimes\nhe killed an animal of some kind. One night he stopped by the home of a\nwolf. \"_Hai-yah!_\" said that one; \"what is my brother doing so far from\nhome?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" replied Scarface, \"I seek the place where the Sun lives; I am sent to\nspeak with him.\"\n\n\"I have travelled far,\" said the wolf. \"I know all the prairies, the\nvalleys, and the mountains, but I have never seen the Sun's home. Wait; I\nknow one who is very wise. Ask the bear. He may tell you.\"\n\nThe next day the man travelled on again, stopping now and then to pick a\nfew berries, and when night came he arrived at the bear's lodge.\n\n\"Where is your home?\" asked the bear. \"Why are you travelling alone, my\nbrother?\"\n\n\"Help me! Pity me!\" replied the young man; \"because of her words[1] I seek\nthe Sun. I go to ask him for her.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: A Blackfoot often talks of what this or that person said,\nwithout mentioning names.]\n\n\"I know not where he stops,\" replied the bear. \"I have travelled by many\nrivers, and I know the mountains, yet I have never seen his lodge. There is\nsome one beyond, that striped-face, who is very smart. Go and ask him.\"\n\nThe badger was in his hole. Stooping over, the young man shouted: \"Oh,\ncunning striped-face! Oh, generous animal! I wish to speak with you.\"\n\n\"What do you want?\" said the badger, poking his head out of the hole.\n\n\"I want to find the Sun's home,\" replied Scarface. \"I want to speak with\nhim.\"\n\n\"I do not know where he lives,\" replied the badger. \"I never travel very\nfar. Over there in the timber is a wolverine. He is always travelling\naround, and is of much knowledge. Maybe he can tell you.\"\n\nThen Scarface went to the woods and looked all around for the wolverine,\nbut could not find him. So he sat down to rest \"_Hai'-yu! Hai'-yu!_\" he\ncried. \"Wolverine, take pity on me. My food is gone, my moccasins worn out.\nNow I must die.\"\n\n\"What is it, my brother?\" he heard, and looking around, he saw the animal\nsitting near.\n\n\"She whom I would marry,\" said Scarface, \"belongs to the Sun; I am trying\nto find where he lives, to ask him for her.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the wolverine. \"I know where he lives. Wait; it is nearly\nnight. To-morrow I will show you the trail to the big water. He lives on\nthe other side of it.\"\n\nEarly in the morning, the wolverine showed him the trail, and Scarface\nfollowed it until he came to the water's edge. He looked out over it, and\nhis heart almost stopped. Never before had any one seen such a big\nwater. The other side could not be seen, and there was no end to\nit. Scarface sat down on the shore. His food was all gone, his moccasins\nworn out. His heart was sick. \"I cannot cross this big water,\" he said. \"I\ncannot return to the people. Here, by this water, I shall die.\"\n\nNot so. His Helpers were there. Two swans came swimming up to the\nshore. \"Why have you come here?\" they asked him. \"What are you doing? It is\nvery far to the place where your people live.\"\n\n\"I am here,\" replied Scarface, \"to die. Far away, in my country, is a\nbeautiful girl. I want to marry her, but she belongs to the Sun. So I\nstarted to find him and ask for her. I have travelled many days. My food is\ngone. I cannot go back. I cannot cross this big water, so I am going to\ndie.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the swans; \"it shall not be so. Across this water is the home of\nthat Above Person. Get on our backs, and we will take you there.\"\n\nScarface quickly arose. He felt strong again. He waded out into the water\nand lay down on the swans' backs, and they started off. Very deep and black\nis that fearful water. Strange people live there, mighty animals which\noften seize and drown a person. The swans carried him safely, and took him\nto the other side. Here was a broad hard trail leading back from the\nwater's edge.\n\n\"_Kyi_\" said the swans. \"You are now close to the Sun's lodge. Follow that\ntrail, and you will soon see it.\"\n\n\nIII\n\nScarface started up the trail, and pretty soon he came to some beautiful\nthings, lying in it. There was a war shirt, a shield, and a bow and\narrows. He had never seen such pretty weapons; but he did not touch\nthem. He walked carefully around them, and travelled on. A little way\nfurther on, he met a young man, the handsomest person he had ever seen. His\nhair was very long, and he wore clothing made of strange skins. His\nmoccasins were sewn with bright colored feathers. The young man said to\nhim, \"Did you see some weapons lying on the trail?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Scarface; \"I saw them.\"\n\n\"But did you not touch them?\" asked the young man.\n\n\"No; I thought some one had left them there, so I did not take them.\"\n\n\"You are not a thief,\" said the young man. \"What is your name?\"\n\n\"Scarface.\"\n\n\"Where are you going?\"\n\n\"To the Sun.\"\n\n\"My name,\" said the young man, \"is A-pi-su'-ahts[1]. The Sun is my father;\ncome, I will take you to our lodge. My father is not now at home, but he\nwill come in at night.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: Early Riser, i.e. The Morning Star.]\n\nSoon they came to the lodge. It was very large and handsome; strange\nmedicine animals were painted on it. Behind, on a tripod, were strange\nweapons and beautiful clothes--the Sun's. Scarface was ashamed to go in,\nbut Morning Star said, \"Do not be afraid, my friend; we are glad you have\ncome.\"\n\nThey entered. One person was sitting there, Ko-ko-mik'-e-is[2], the Sun's\nwife, Morning Star's mother. She spoke to Scarface kindly, and gave him\nsomething to eat. \"Why have you come so far from your people?\" she asked.\n\n[Footnote 2: Night red light, the Moon.]\n\nThen Scarface told her about the beautiful girl he wanted to marry. \"She\nbelongs to the Sun,\" he said. \"I have come to ask him for her.\"\n\nWhen it was time for the Sun to come home, the Moon hid Scarface under a\npile of robes. As soon as the Sun got to the doorway, he stopped, and said,\n\"I smell a person.\"\n\n\"Yes, father,\" said Morning Star; \"a good young man has come to see you. I\nknow he is good, for he found some of my things on the trail and did not\ntouch them.\"\n\nThen Scarface came out from under the robes, and the Sun entered and sat\ndown. \"I am glad you have come to our lodge,\" he said. \"Stay with us as\nlong as you think best. My son is lonesome sometimes; be his friend.\"\n\nThe next day the Moon called Scarface out of the lodge, and said to him:\n\"Go with Morning Star where you please, but never hunt near that big water;\ndo not let him go there. It is the home of great birds which have long\nsharp bills; they kill people. I have had many sons, but these birds have\nkilled them all. Morning Star is the only one left.\"\n\nSo Scarface stayed there a long time and hunted with Morning Star. One day\nthey came near the water, and saw the big birds.\n\n\"Come,\" said Morning Star; \"let us go and kill those birds.\"\n\n\"No, no!\" replied Scarface; \"we must not go there. Those are very terrible\nbirds; they will kill us.\"\n\nMorning Star would not listen. He ran towards the water, and Scarface\nfollowed. He knew that he must kill the birds and save the boy. If not, the\nSun would be angry and might kill him. He ran ahead and met the birds,\nwhich were coming towards him to fight, and killed every one of them with\nhis spear: not one was left. Then the young men cut off their heads, and\ncarried them home. Morning Star's mother was glad when they told her what\nthey had done, and showed her the birds' heads. She cried, and called\nScarface \"my son.\" When the Sun came home at night, she told him about it,\nand he too was glad. \"My son,\" he said to Scarface, \"I will not forget what\nyou have this day done for me. Tell me now, what can I do for you?\"\n\n\"_Hai'-yu_\" replied Scarface. \"_Hai'-yu_, pity me. I am here to ask you for\nthat girl. I want to marry her. I asked her, and she was glad; but she says\nyou own her, that you told her not to marry.\"\n\n\"What you say is true,\" said the Sun. \"I have watched the days, so I know\nit. Now, then, I give her to you; she is yours. I am glad she has been\nwise. I know she has never done wrong. The Sun pities good women. They\nshall live a long time. So shall their husbands and children. Now you will\nsoon go home. Let me tell you something. Be wise and listen: I am the only\nchief. Everything is mine. I made the earth, the mountains, prairies,\nrivers, and forests. I made the people and all the animals. This is why I\nsay I alone am the chief. I can never die. True, the winter makes me old\nand weak, but every summer I grow young again.\"\n\nThen said the Sun: \"What one of all animals is smartest? The raven is, for\nhe always finds food. He is never hungry. Which one of all the animals is\nmost _Nat-o'-ye_[1]? The buffalo is. Of all animals, I like him best. He\nis for the people. He is your food and your shelter. What part of his body\nis sacred? The tongue is. That is mine. What else is sacred? Berries\nare. They are mine too. Come with me and see the world.\" He took Scarface\nto the edge of the sky, and they looked down and saw it. It is round and\nflat, and all around the edge is the jumping-off place [or walls straight\ndown]. Then said the Sun: \"When any man is sick or in danger, his wife may\npromise to build me a lodge, if he recovers. If the woman is pure and true,\nthen I will be pleased and help the man. But if she is bad, if she lies,\nthen I will be angry. You shall build the lodge like the world, round, with\nwalls, but first you must build a sweat house of a hundred sticks. It shall\nbe like the sky [a hemisphere], and half of it shall be painted red. That\nis me. The other half you will paint black. That is the night.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: This word may be translated as \"of the Sun,\" \"having Sun\npower,\" or more properly, something sacred.]\n\nFurther said the Sun: \"Which is the best, the heart or the brain? The brain\nis. The heart often lies, the brain never.\" Then he told Scarface\neverything about making the Medicine Lodge, and when he had finished, he\nrubbed a powerful medicine on his face, and the scar disappeared. Then he\ngave him two raven feathers, saying: \"These are the sign for the girl, that\nI give her to you. They must always be worn by the husband of the woman who\nbuilds a Medicine Lodge.\"\n\nThe young man was now ready to return home. Morning Star and the Sun gave\nhim many beautiful presents. The Moon cried and kissed him, and called him\n\"my son.\" Then the Sun showed him the short trail. It was the Wolf Road\n(Milky Way). He followed it, and soon reached the ground.\n\n\nIV\n\nIt was a very hot day. All the lodge skins were raised, and the people sat\nin the shade. There was a chief, a very generous man, and all day long\npeople kept coming to his lodge to feast and smoke with him. Early in the\nmorning this chief saw a person sitting out on a butte near by, close\nwrapped in his robe. The chief's friends came and went, the sun reached the\nmiddle, and passed on, down towards the mountains. Still this person did\nnot move. When it was almost night, the chief said: \"Why does that person\nsit there so long? The heat has been strong, but he has never eaten nor\ndrunk. He may be a stranger; go and ask him in.\"\n\nSo some young men went up to him, and said: \"Why do you sit here in the\ngreat heat all day? Come to the shade of the lodges. The chief asks you to\nfeast with him.\"\n\nThen the person arose and threw off his robe, and they were surprised. He\nwore beautiful clothes. His bow, shield, and other weapons were of strange\nmake. But they knew his face, although the scar was gone, and they ran\nahead, shouting, \"The scarface poor young man has come. He is poor no\nlonger. The scar on his face is gone.\"\n\nAll the people rushed out to see him. \"Where have you been?\" they\nasked. \"Where did you get all these pretty things?\" He did not\nanswer. There in the crowd stood that young woman; and taking the two raven\nfeathers from his head, he gave them to her, and said: \"The trail was very\nlong, and I nearly died, but by those Helpers, I found his lodge. He is\nglad. He sends these feathers to you. They are the sign.\"\n\nGreat was her gladness then. They were married, and made the first Medicine\nLodge, as the Sun had said. The Sun was glad. He gave them great age. They\nwere never sick. When they were very old, one morning, their children said:\n\"Awake! Rise and eat.\" They did not move. In the night, in sleep, without\npain, their shadows had departed for the Sand Hills.\n\n\n\nORIGIN OF THE I-KUN-UH'-KAH-TSI[1]\n\n\nI\n\nTHE BULL BAND\n\n[Footnote 1: An account of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_, with a list of its\ndifferent bands or societies and their duties, will be found in the chapter\non Social Organization.]\n\nThe people had built a great pis'kun, very high and strong, so that no\nbuffalo could escape; but somehow the buffalo would not jump over the\ncliff. When driven toward it, they would run nearly to the edge, and then,\nswerving to the right or left, they would go down the sloping hills and\ncross the valley in safety. So the people were hungry, and began to starve.\n\nOne morning, early, a young woman went to get water, and she saw a herd of\nbuffalo feeding on the prairie, right on the edge of the cliff above the\npis'kun. \"Oh!\" she cried out, \"if you will only jump off into the pis'kun,\nI will marry one of you.\" This she said for fun, not meaning it, and great\nwas her wonder when she saw the buffalo come jumping, tumbling, falling\nover the cliff.\n\nNow the young woman was scared, for a big bull with one bound cleared the\npis'kun walls and came toward her. \"Come,\" he said, taking hold of her\narm. \"No, no!\" she replied pulling back. \"But you said if the buffalo would\njump over, you would marry one; see, the pis'kun is filled.\" And without\nmore talk he led her up over the bluff, and out on to the prairie.\n\nWhen the people had finished killing the buffalo and cutting up the meat,\nthey missed this young woman, and her relations were very sad, because they\ncould not find her. Then her father took his bow and quiver, and said, \"I\nwill go and find her.\" And he went up over the bluff and out on the\nprairie.\n\nAfter he had travelled some distance he came to a wallow, and a little way\noff saw a herd of buffalo. While sitting by the wallow,--for he was\ntired--and thinking what he should do, a magpie came and lit near him. \"Ha!\n_Ma-me-at-si-kim-i\"_ he said, \"you are a beautiful bird; help me. Look\neverywhere as you travel about, and if you see my daughter, tell her, 'Your\nfather waits by the wallow.'\" The magpie flew over by the herd of buffalo,\nand seeing the young woman, he lit on the ground near her, and commenced\npicking around, turning his head this way and that way, and, when close to\nher, he said, \"Your father waits by the wallow.\" \"Sh-h-h! sh-h-h!\" replied\nthe girl, in a whisper, looking around scared, for her bull husband was\nsleeping near by. \"Don't speak so loud. Go back and tell him to wait.\"\n\n\"Your daughter is over there with the buffalo. She says 'wait!'\" said the\nmagpie, when he had flown back to the man.\n\nBy and by the bull awoke, and said to his wife, \"Go and get me some water.\"\nThen the woman was glad, and taking a horn from his head she went to the\nwallow. \"Oh, why did you come?\" she said to her father. \"You will surely be\nkilled.\"\n\n\"I came to take my daughter home; come, let us hurry.\"\n\n\"No, no!\" she replied; \"not now. They would chase us and kill us. Wait till\nhe sleeps again, and I will try to get away,\" and, filling the horn with\nwater, she went back.\n\nThe bull drank a swallow of the water. \"Ha!\" said he, \"a person is close by\nhere.\"\n\n\"No one,\" replied the woman; but her heart rose up.\n\nThe bull drank a little more, and then he stood up and bellowed, \"_Bu-u-u!\nm-m-ah-oo!\"_ Oh, fearful sound! Up rose the bulls, raised their short tails\nand shook them, tossed their great heads, and bellowed back. Then they\npawed the dirt, rushed about here and there, and coming to the wallow,\nfound that poor man. There they trampled him with their great hoofs, hooked\nhim and trampled him again, and soon not even a small piece of his body\ncould be seen.\n\nThen his daughter cried, \"_Oh! ah! Ni-nah-ah! Oh! ah! Ni-nah-ah!_\" (My\nfather! My father!) \"Ah!\" said her bull husband, \"you mourn for your\nfather. You see now how it is with us. We have seen our mothers, fathers,\nmany of our relations, hurled over the rocky walls, and killed for food by\nyour people. But I will pity you. I will give you one chance. If you can\nbring your father to life, you and he can go back to your people.\"\n\nThen the woman said to the magpie: \"Pity me. Help me now; go and seek in\nthe trampled mud; try and find a little piece of my father's body, and\nbring it to me.\"\n\nThe magpie flew to the place. He looked in every hole, and tore up the mud\nwith his sharp nose. At last he found something white; he picked the mud\nfrom around it, and then pulling hard, he brought out a joint of the\nbackbone, and flew with it back to the woman.\n\nShe placed it on the ground, covered it with her robe, and then\nsang. Removing the robe, there lay her father's body as if just dead. Once\nmore she covered it with the robe and sang, and when she took away the\nrobe, he was breathing, and then he stood up. The buffalo were surprised;\nthe magpie was glad, and flew round and round, making a great noise.\n\n\"We have seen strange things this day,\" said her bull husband. \"He whom we\ntrampled to death, even into small pieces, is alive again. The people's\nmedicine is very strong. Now, before you go, we will teach you our dance\nand our song. You must not forget them.\"[1] When the dance was over, the\nbull said: \"Go now to your home, and do not forget what you have\nseen. Teach it to the people. The medicine shall be a bull's head and a\nrobe. All the persons who are to be 'Bulls' shall wear them when they\ndance.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: Here the narrator repeated the song and showed the dance. As\nis fitting to the dance of such great beasts, the air is slow and solemn,\nand the step ponderous and deliberate.]\n\nGreat was the joy of the people, when the man returned with his\ndaughter. He called a council of the chiefs, and told them all that had\nhappened. Then the chiefs chose certain young men, and this man taught them\nthe dance and song of the bulls, and told them what the medicine should\nbe. This was the beginning of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE OTHER BANDS\n\n\nFor a long time the buffalo had not been seen. The pis'kun was useless, and\nthe hunters could find no food for the people. Then a man who had two\nwives, a daughter, and two sons, said: \"I shall not stop here to\ndie. To-morrow we will move toward the mountains, where we shall perhaps\nfind deer and elk, sheep and antelope, or, if not, at least we shall find\nplenty of beaver and birds. Thus we shall survive.\"\n\nWhen morning came, they packed the travois, lashed them on the dogs, and\nthen moved out. It was yet winter, and they travelled slowly. They were\nweak, and could go but a little way in a day. The fourth night came, and\nthey sat in their lodge, very tired and hungry. No one spoke, for those who\nare hungry do not care for words. Suddenly the dogs began to bark, and\nsoon, pushing aside the door-curtain, a young man entered.\n\n\"_O'kyi!_\" said the old man, and he motioned the stranger to a\nsitting-place.\n\nThey looked at this person with surprise and fear, for there was a black\nwind[1] which had melted the snow, and covered the prairie with water, yet\nthis person's leggings and moccasins were dry. They sat in silence a long\ntime.\n\n[Footnote 1: The \"Chinook.\"]\n\nThen said he: \"Why is this? Why do you not give me some food?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" replied the old man, \"you behold those who are truly poor. We have no\nfood. For many days the buffalo did not come in sight, and we shot deer and\nother animals which people eat, and when all these had been killed, we\nbegan to starve. Then said I, 'We will not stay here to starve to death';\nand we started for the mountains. This is the fourth night of our travels.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the young man. \"Then your travels are ended. Close by here, we\nare camped by our pis'kun. Many buffalo have been run in, and our\nparfleches are filled with dried meat. Wait; I will go and bring you some.\"\n\nAs soon as he went out, they began to talk about this strange person. They\nwere very much afraid of him, and did not know what to do. The children\nbegan to cry, and the women were trying to quiet them, when the young man\nreturned, bringing some meat and three _pis-tsi-ko'-an._[2]\n\n[Footnote 2: Unborn buffalo calves.]\n\n\"_Kyi!_\" said he. \"To-morrow move over to our lodges. Do not be afraid. No\nmatter what strange things you see, do not fear. All will be your\nfriends. Now, one thing I caution you about. In this be careful. If you\nshould find an arrow lying about, in the pis'kun, or outside, no matter\nwhere, do not touch it; neither you, nor your wives nor children.\" Having\nsaid this, he went out.\n\nThen the old man took his pipe and smoked and prayed, saying: \"Hear now,\nSun! Listen, Above People. Listen, Under Water People. Now you have taken\npity. Now you have given us food. We are going to those strange ones, who\nwalk through water with dry moccasins. Protect us among those to-be-feared\npeople. Let us survive. Man, woman, child, give us long life; give us long\nlife!\"\n\nOnce more the smell of roasting meat. The children played. They talked and\nlaughed who had so long been silent. They ate plenty and lay down and\nslept.\n\nEarly in the morning, as soon as the sun rose, they took down their lodge,\npacked up, and started for the strange camp. They found it was a wonderful\nplace. There by the pis'kun, and far up and down the valley were the lodges\nof meat-eaters. They could not see them all, but close by they saw the\nlodges of the Bear band, the Fox band, and the Badger band. The father of\nthe young man who had given them meat was chief of the Wolf band, and by\nthat band they pitched their lodge. Ah! That was a happy place. Food there\nwas plenty. All day people shouted out for feasts, and everywhere was heard\nthe sound of drums and song and dancing.\n\nThe new-comers went to the pis'kun for meat, and one of the children found\nan arrow lying on the ground. It was a beautiful arrow, the stone point\nlong and sharp, the shaft round and straight. All around the people were\nbusy; no one was looking. The boy picked up the arrow and hid it under his\nrobe. Then there was a fearful noise. All the animals howled and growled,\nand ran toward him. But the chief Wolf said: \"Hold! We will let him go this\ntime; for he is young yet, and not of good sense.\" So they let him go.\n\nWhen night came, some one shouted out for a feast, saying:\n\"_Wo'-ka-hit! Wo'-ka-hit! Mah-kwe'-i-ke-tum-ok-ah-wah-hit.\nKe-t[)u]k'-ka-p[)u]k'-si-pim.\"_ (\"Listen! Listen! Wolf, you are to\nfeast. Enter with your friend.\") \"We are asked,\" said the chief Wolf to his\nnew friend, and together they went to the lodge.\n\nWithin, the fire burned brightly, and many men were already there, the old\nand wise of the Raven band. Hanging behind the seats were the writings[1]\nof many deeds. Food was placed before them,--pemmican of berries and dried\nback fat; and when they had eaten, a pipe was lighted. Then spoke the\nRaven chief: \"Now, Wolf, I am going to give our new friend a present. What\nsay you?\"\n\n[Footnote 1: That is, the painting on cowskin of the various battles and\nadventures in which the owner of the lodge had taken part.]\n\n\"It is as you say,\" replied the Wolf. \"Our new friend will be glad.\"\n\nThen the Raven chief took from the long parfleche sack a slender stick,\nbeautifully dressed with many colored feathers; and on the end of it was\nfastened the skin of a raven, head, wings, feet, and all. \"We,\" he said,\n\"are the _Mas-to-pah'-ta-kiks_ (Raven carriers, or those who bear the\nRaven). Of all the above animals, of all the flyers, where is one so smart?\nNone. The Raven's eyes are sharp. His wings are strong. He is a great\nhunter and never hungry. Far, far off on the prairie he sees his food, and\ndeep hidden in the pines it does not escape his eye. Now the song and the\ndance.\"\n\nWhen he had finished singing and dancing, he gave the stick to the man, and\nsaid: \"Take it with you, and when you have returned to your people, you\nshall say: Now there are already the Bulls, and he who is the Raven chief\nsays: 'There shall be more, there shall be the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_, so that\nthe people may survive, and of them shall be the Raven carriers.' You will\ncall a council of the chiefs and wise old men, and they will choose the\npersons. Teach them the song and the dance, and give them the medicine. It\nshall be theirs forever.\"\n\nSoon they heard another person shouting for a feast, and, going, they\nentered the lodge of the _Sin-o-pah_ chief. Here, too, were the old men\nassembled. After they had eaten of that set before them, the chief said:\n\"Those among whom you are newly arrived are generous. They do not look at\ntheir possessions, but give to the stranger and pity the poor. The Kit-fox\nis a little animal, but what one is smarter? None. His hair is like the\ndead prairie grass. His eyes are sharp, his feet noiseless, his brain\ncunning. His ears receive the far-off sound. Here is our medicine, take\nit.\" And he gave the stick. It was long, crooked at one end, wound with\nfur, and tied here and there to it were eagle feathers. At the end was a\nfox's skin. Again the chief said: \"Hear our song. Do not forget it; and the\ndance, too, you must remember. When you get home, teach them to the\npeople.\"\n\nAgain they heard the feast shout, and he who called was the Bear chief. Now\nwhen they had smoked, the chief said: \"What say you, friend Wolf? Shall we\ngive our new friend something?\"\n\n\"As you say,\" replied the Wolf. \"It is yours to give.\"\n\nThen said the Bear: \"There are many animals, and some of them are\npowerful. But the Bear is the strongest and bravest of all. He fears\nnothing, and is always ready to fight.\" Then he put on a necklace of bear\nclaws, a belt of bear fur, and around his head a band of the fur; and sang\nand danced. When he had finished, he gave them to the man, saying: \"Teach\nthe people our song and dance, and give them this medicine. It is\npowerful.\"\n\nIt was now very late. The Seven Persons had arrived at midnight, yet again\nthey heard the feast shout from the far end of camp. In this lodge the men\nwere painted with streaks of red and their hair was all brushed to one\nside. After the feast the chief said: \"We are different from all the\nothers here. We are called the _M\u00fbt-siks[1]_ We are death. We know not\nfear. Even if our enemies are in number like the grass, we do not turn\naway, but fight and conquer. Bows are good weapons. Spears are better, but\nour weapon is the knife.\" Then the chief sang and danced, and afterwards he\ngave the Wolf's friend the medicine. It was a long knife, and many scalps\nwere tied on the handle. \"This,\" he said, \"is for the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: Brave, courageous.]\n\nOnce more they were called to a feast and entered the Badger chief's\nlodge. He taught the man the Badger song and dance and gave him the\nmedicine. It was a large rattle, ornamented with beaver claws and bright\nfeathers. They smoked two pipes in the Badger's lodge, and then went home\nand slept.\n\nEarly next day, the man and his family took down their lodge, and prepared\nto move camp. Many women came and made them presents of dried meat,\npemmican, and berries. They were given so much they could not take it all\nwith them. It was many days before they joined the main camp, for the\npeople, too, had moved to the south after buffalo. As soon as the lodge was\npitched, the man called all the chiefs to come and feast, and he told them\nall he had seen, and showed them the medicines. The chiefs chose certain\nyoung men for the different bands, and this man taught them the songs and\ndances, and gave each band their medicine.\n\n\n\nORIGIN OF THE MEDICINE PIPE\n\n\nThunder--you have heard him, he is everywhere. He roars in the mountains,\nhe shouts far out on the prairie. He strikes the high rocks, and they fall\nto pieces. He hits a tree, and it is broken in slivers. He strikes the\npeople, and they die. He is bad. He does not like the towering cliff, the\nstanding tree, or living man. He likes to strike and crush them to the\nground. Yes! yes! Of all he is most powerful; he is the one most\nstrong. But I have not told you the worst: he sometimes steals women.\n\nLong ago, almost in the beginning, a man and his wife were sitting in their\nlodge, when Thunder came and struck them. The man was not killed. At first\nhe was as if dead, but after a while he lived again, and rising looked\nabout him. His wife was not there. \"Oh, well,\" he thought, \"she has gone to\nget some water or wood,\" and he sat a while; but when the sun had\nunder-disappeared, he went out and inquired about her of the people. No one\nhad seen her. He searched throughout the camp, but did not find her. Then\nhe knew that Thunder had stolen her, and he went out on the hills alone and\nmourned.\n\nWhen morning came, he rose and wandered far away, and he asked all the\nanimals he met if they knew where Thunder lived. They laughed, and would\nnot answer. The Wolf said: \"Do you think we would seek the home of the only\none we fear? He is our only danger. From all others we can run away; but\nfrom him there is no running. He strikes, and there we lie. Turn back! go\nhome! Do not look for the dwelling-place of that dreadful one.\" But the man\nkept on, and travelled far away. Now he came to a lodge,--a queer lodge,\nfor it was made of stone; just like any other lodge, only it was made of\nstone. Here lived the Raven chief. The man entered.\n\n\"Welcome, my friend,\" said the chief of Ravens. \"Sit down, sit down.\" And\nfood was placed before him.\n\nThen, when he had finished eating, the Raven said, \"Why have you come?\"\n\n\"Thunder has stolen my wife,\" replied the man. \"I seek his dwelling-place\nthat I may find her.\"\n\n\"Would you dare enter the lodge of that dreadful person?\" asked the\nRaven. \"He lives close by here. His lodge is of stone, like this; and\nhanging there, within, are eyes,--the eyes of those he has killed or\nstolen. He has taken out their eyes and hung them in his lodge. Now, then,\ndare you enter there?\"\n\n\"No,\" replied the man. \"I am afraid. What man could look at such dreadful\nthings and live?\"\n\n\"No person can,\" said the Raven. \"There is but one old Thunder fears. There\nis but one he cannot kill. It is I, it is the Ravens. Now I will give you\nmedicine, and he shall not harm you. You shall enter there, and seek among\nthose eyes your wife's; and if you find them, tell that Thunder why you\ncame, and make him give them to you. Here, now, is a raven's wing. Just\npoint it at him, and he will start back quick; but if that fail, take\nthis. It is an arrow, and the shaft is made of elk-horn. Take this, I say,\nand shoot it through the lodge.\"\n\n\"Why make a fool of me?\" the poor man asked. \"My heart is sad. I am\ncrying.\" And he covered his head with his robe, and wept.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the Raven, \"you do not believe me. Come out, come out, and I\nwill make you believe.\" When they stood outside, the Raven asked, \"Is the\nhome of your people far?\"\n\n\"A great distance,\" said the man.\n\n\"Can you tell how many days you have travelled?\"\n\n\"No,\" he replied, \"my heart is sad. I did not count the days. The berries\nhave grown and ripened since I left.\"\n\n\"Can you see your camp from here?\" asked the Raven.\n\nThe man did not speak. Then the Raven rubbed some medicine on his eyes and\nsaid, \"Look!\" The man looked, and saw the camp. It was close. He saw the\npeople. He saw the smoke rising from the lodges.\n\n\"Now you will believe,\" said the Raven. \"Take now the arrow and the wing,\nand go and get your wife.\"\n\nSo the man took these things, and went to the Thunder's lodge. He entered\nand sat down by the door-way. The Thunder sat within and looked at him with\nawful eyes. But the man looked above, and saw those many pairs of eyes.\nAmong them were those of his wife.\n\n\"Why have you come?\" said the Thunder in a fearful voice.\n\n\"I seek my wife,\" the man replied, \"whom you have stolen. There hang her\neyes.\"\n\n\"No man can enter my lodge and live,\" said the Thunder; and he rose to\nstrike him. Then the man pointed the raven wing at the Thunder, and he fell\nback on his couch and shivered. But he soon recovered, and rose again. Then\nthe man fitted the elk-horn arrow to his bow, and shot it through the lodge\nof rock; right through that lodge of rock it pierced a jagged hole, and let\nthe sunlight in.\n\n\"Hold,\" said the Thunder. \"Stop; you are the stronger. Yours the great\nmedicine. You shall have your wife. Take down her eyes.\" Then the man cut\nthe string that held them, and immediately his wife stood beside him.\n\n\"Now,\" said the Thunder, \"you know me. I am of great power. I live here in\nsummer, but when winter comes, I go far south. I go south with the\nbirds. Here is my pipe. It is medicine. Take it, and keep it. Now, when I\nfirst come in the spring, you shall fill and light this pipe, and you shall\npray to me, you and the people. For I bring the rain which makes the\nberries large and ripe. I bring the rain which makes all things grow, and\nfor this you shall pray to me, you and all the people.\"\n\nThus the people got the first medicine pipe. It was long ago.\n\n\n\nTHE BEAVER MEDICINE\n\nThis story goes back many years, to a time before the Indians went to war\nagainst each other. Then there was peace among all the tribes. They met,\nand did not kill each other. They had no guns and they had no horses. When\ntwo tribes met, the head chiefs would take each a stick and touch each\nother. Each had counted a _coup_ on the other, and they then went back to\ntheir camps. It was more a friendly than a hostile ceremony.\n\nOftentimes, when a party of young men had gone to a strange camp, and had\ndone this to those whom they had visited, they would come back to their\nhomes and would tell the girls whom they loved that they had counted a\n_coup_ on this certain tribe of people. After the return of such a party,\nthe young women would have a dance. Each one would wear clothing like that\nof the man she loved, and as she danced, she would count a _coup_, saying\nthat she herself had done the deed which her young lover had really done.\nSuch was the custom of the people.\n\nThere was a chief in a camp who had three wives, all very pretty women. He\nused to say to these women, whenever a dance was called: \"Why do not you go\nout and dance too? Perhaps you have some one in the camp that you love, and\nfor whom you would like to count a _coup_\" Then the women would say, \"No,\nwe do not wish to join the dance; we have no lovers.\"\n\nThere was in the camp a poor young man, whose name was \u00c1pi-kunni. He had no\nrelations, and no one to tan robes or furs for him, and he was always badly\nclad and in rags. Whenever he got some clothing, he wore it as long as it\nwould hold together. This young man loved the youngest wife of the chief,\nand she loved him. But her parents were not rich, and they could not give\nher to \u00c1pi-k[)u]nni, and when the chief wanted her for a wife, they gave\nher to him. Sometimes \u00c1pi-k[)u]nni and this girl used to meet and talk\ntogether, and he used to caution her, saying, \"Now be careful that you do\nnot tell any one that you see me.\" She would say, \"No, there is no danger;\nI will not let it be known.\"\n\nOne evening, a dance was called for the young women to dance, and the chief\nsaid to his wives: \"Now, women, you had better go to this dance. If any of\nyou have persons whom you love, you might as well go and dance for them.\"\nTwo of them said: \"No, we will not go. There is no one that we love.\" But\nthe third said, \"Well, I think I will go and dance.\" The chief said to her,\n\"Well, go then; your lover will surely dress you up for the dance.\"\n\nThe girl went to where \u00c1pi-k[)u]nni as living in an old woman's lodge, very\npoorly furnished, and told him what she was going to do, and asked him to\ndress her for the dance. He said to her: \"Oh, you have wronged me by coming\nhere, and by going to the dance. I told you to keep it a secret.\" The girl\nsaid: \"Well, never mind; no one will know your dress. Fix me up, and I will\ngo and join the dance anyway.\" \"Why,\" said Api-k[)u]nni, \"I never have been\nto war. I have never counted any _coups_. You will go and dance and will\nhave nothing to say. The people will laugh at you.\" But when he found that\nthe girl wanted to go, he painted her forehead with red clay, and tied a\ngoose skin, which he had, about her head, and lent her his badly tanned\nrobe, which in spots was hard like a parfleche. He said to her, \"If you\nwill go to the dance, say, when it comes your turn to speak, that when the\nwater in the creeks gets warm, you are going to war, and are going to count\na _coup_ on some people.\"\n\nThe woman went to the dance, and joined in it. All the people were laughing\nat her on account of her strange dress,--a goose skin around her head, and\na badly tanned robe about her. The people in the dance asked her: \"Well,\nwhat are you dancing for? What can you tell?\" The woman said, \"I am dancing\nhere to-day, and when the water in the streams gets warm next spring, I am\ngoing to war; and then I will tell you what I have done to any people.\" The\nchief was standing present, and when he learned who it was that his young\nwife loved, he was much ashamed and went to his lodge.\n\nWhen the dance was over, this young woman went to the lodge of the poor\nyoung man to give back his dress to him. Now, while she had been gone,\n\u00c1pi-k[)u]nni had been thinking over all these things, and he was very much\nashamed. He took his robe and his goose skin and went away. He was so\nashamed that he went away at once, travelling off over the prairie, not\ncaring where he went, and crying all the time. As he wandered away, he came\nto a lake, and at the foot of this lake was a beaver dam, and by the dam a\nbeaver house. He walked out on the dam and on to the beaver house. There he\nstopped and sat down, and in his shame cried the rest of the day, and at\nlast he fell asleep on the beaver house.\n\nWhile he slept, he dreamed that a beaver came to him--a very large\nbeaver--and said: \"My poor young man, come into my house. I pity you, and\nwill give you something that will help you.\" So \u00c1pi-k[)u]nni got up, and\nfollowed the beaver into the house. When he was in the house, he awoke, and\nsaw sitting opposite him a large white beaver, almost as big as a man. He\nthought to himself, \"This must be the chief of all the beavers, white\nbecause very old.\" The beaver was singing a song. It was a very strange\nsong, and he sang it a long time. Then he said to \u00c1pi-k[)u]nni, \"My son,\nwhy are you mourning?\" and the young man told him everything that had\nhappened, and how he had been shamed. Then the beaver said: \"My son, stay\nhere this winter with me. I will provide for you. When the time comes, and\nyou have learned our songs and our ways, I will let you go. For a time make\nthis your home.\" So \u00c1pi-k)u]nni stayed there with the beaver, and the\nbeaver taught him many strange things. All this happened in the fall.\n\nNow the chief in the camp missed this poor young man, and he asked the\npeople where he had gone. No one knew. They said that the last that had\nbeen seen of him he was travelling toward the lake where the beaver dam\nwas.\n\n\u00c1pi-k[)u]nni had a friend, another poor young man named Wolf Tail, and\nafter a while, Wolf Tail started out to look for his friend. He went toward\nthis lake, looking everywhere, and calling out his name. When he came to\nthe beaver house, he kicked on the top and called, \"Oh, my brother, are you\nhere?\" \u00c1pi-k[)u]nni answered him, and said: \"Yes, I am here. I was brought\nin while I was asleep, and I cannot give you the secret of the door, for I\ndo not know it myself.\" Wolf Tail said to him, \"Brother, when the weather\ngets warm a party is going to start from camp to war.\" \u00c1pi-k[)u]nni said:\n\"Go home and try to get together all the moccasins you can, but do not tell\nthem that I am here. I am ashamed to go back to the camp. When the party\nstarts, come this way and bring me the moccasins, and we two will start\nfrom here.\" He also said: \"I am very thin. The beaver food here does not\nagree with me. We are living on the bark of willows.\" Wolf Tail went back\nto the camp and gathered together all the moccasins that he could, as he\nhad been asked to do.\n\nWhen the spring came, and the grass began to start, the war party set\nout. At this time the beaver talked to \u00c1pikunni a long time, and told him\nmany things. He dived down into the water, and brought up a long stick of\naspen wood, cut off from it a piece as long as a man's arm, trimmed the\ntwigs off it, and gave it to the young man. \"Keep this,\" the beaver said,\n\"and when you go to war take it with you.\" The beaver also gave him a\nlittle sack of medicine, and told him what he must do.\n\nWhen the party started out, Wolf Tail came to the beaver house, bringing\nthe moccasins, and his friend came out of the house. They started in the\ndirection the party had taken and travelled with them, but off to one\nside. When they stopped at night, the two young men camped by themselves.\n\nThey travelled for many days, until they came to Bow River, and found that\nit was very high. On the other side of the river, they saw the lodges of a\ncamp. In this camp a man was making a speech, and Api-k[)u]nni said to his\nfriend, \"Oh, my brother, I am going to kill that man to-day, so that my\nsweetheart may count _coup_ on him.\" These two were at a little distance\nfrom the main party, above them on the river. The people in the camp had\nseen the Blackfeet, and some had come down to the river. When Api-kunni had\nsaid this to Wolf Tail, he took his clothes off and began to sing the song\nthe beaver had taught him. This was the song:--\n\nI am like an island,\nFor on an island I got my power.\nIn battle I live\nWhile people fall away from me.\n\nWhile he sang this, he had in his hand the stick which the beaver had given\nhim. This was his only weapon.\n\nHe ran to the bank, jumped in and dived, and came up in the middle of the\nriver, and started to swim across. The rest of the Blackfeet saw one of\ntheir number swimming across the river, and they said to each other: \"Who\nis that? Why did not some one stop him?\" While he was swimming across, the\nman who had been making the speech saw him and went down to meet him. He\nsaid: \"Who can this man be, swimming across the river? He is a stranger. I\nwill go down and meet him, and kill him.\" As the boy was getting close to\nthe shore, the man waded out in the stream up to his waist, and raised his\nknife to stab the swimmer. When \u00c1pi-k[)u]nni got near him, he dived under\nthe water and came up close to the man, and thrust the beaver stick through\nhis body, and the man fell down in the water and died. \u00c1pi-k[)u]nni caught\nthe body, and dived under the water with it, and came up on the other side\nwhere he had left his friend. Then all the Blackfeet set up the war whoop,\nfor they were glad, and they could hear a great crying in the camp. The\npeople there were sorry for the man who was killed.\n\nPeople in those days never killed one another, and this was the first man\never killed in war.\n\nThey dragged the man up on the bank, and \u00c1pi-k[)u]nni said to his brother,\n\"Cut off those long hairs on the head.\" The young man did as he was\ntold. He scalped him and counted _coup_ on him; and from that time forth,\npeople, when they went to war, killed one another and scalped the dead\nenemy, as this poor young man had done. Two others of the main party came\nto the place, and counted _coup_ on the dead body, making four who had\ncounted _coup_. From there, the whole party turned about and went back to\nthe village whence they had come.\n\nWhen they came in sight of the lodges, they sat down in a row facing the\ncamp. The man who had killed the enemy was sitting far in front of the\nothers. Behind him sat his friend, and behind Wolf Tail, sat the two who\nhad counted _coup_ on the body. So these four were strung out in front of\nthe others. The chief of the camp was told that some people were sitting on\na hill near by, and when he had gone out and looked, he said: \"There is\nsome one sitting way in front. Let somebody go out and see about it.\" A\nyoung man ran out to where he could see, and when he had looked, he ran\nback and said to the chief, \"Why, that man in front is the poor young man.\"\n\nThe old chief looked around, and said: \"Where is that young woman, my wife?\nGo and find her.\" They went to look for her, and found her out gathering\nrosebuds, for while the young man whom she loved was away, she used to go\nout and gather rosebuds and dry them for him. When they found her, she had\nher bosom full of them. When she came to the lodge, the chief said to her:\n\"There is the man you love, who has come. Go and meet him.\" She made ready\nquickly and ran out and met him. He said: \"Give her that hair of the dead\nman. Here is his knife. There is the coat he had on, when I killed\nhim. Take these things back to the camp, and tell the people who made fun\nof you that this is what you promised them at the time of that dance.\"\n\nThe whole party then got up and walked to the camp. The woman took the\nscalp, knife and coat to the lodge, and gave them to her husband. The chief\ninvited \u00c1pi-k\u00fbnni to come to his lodge to visit him. He said: \"I see that\nyou have been to war, and that you have done more than any of us have ever\ndone. This is a reason why you should be a chief. Now take my lodge and\nthis woman, and live here. Take my place and rule these people. My two\nwives will be your servants.\" When \u00c1pi-k\u00fbnni heard this, and saw the young\nwoman sitting there in the lodge, he could not speak. Something seemed to\nrise up in his throat and choke him.\n\nSo this young man lived in the camp and was known as their chief.\n\nAfter a time, he called his people together in council and told them of the\nstrange things the beaver had taught him, and the power that the beaver had\ngiven him. He said: \"This will be a benefit to us while we are a people\nnow, and afterward it will be handed down to our children, and if we follow\nthe words of the beaver we will be lucky. This seed the beaver gave me, and\ntold me to plant it every year. When we ask help from the beaver, we will\nsmoke this plant.\"\n\nThis plant was the Indian tobacco, and it is from the beaver that the\nBlackfeet got it. Many strange things were taught this man by the beaver,\nwhich were handed down and are followed till to-day.\n\n\n\nTHE BUFFALO ROCK\n\n\nA small stone, which is usually a fossil shell of some kind, is known by\nthe Blackfeet as I-nis'-kim, the buffalo stone. This object is strong\nmedicine, and, as indicated in some of these stories, gives its possessor\ngreat power with buffalo. The stone is found on the prairie, and the\nperson who succeeds in obtaining one is regarded as very fortunate.\nSometimes a man, who is riding along on the prairie, will hear a peculiar\nfaint chirp, such as a little bird might utter. The sound he knows is made\nby a buffalo rock. He stops and searches on the ground for the rock, and if\nhe cannot find it, marks the place and very likely returns next day, either\nalone or with others from the camp, to look for it again. If it is found,\nthere is great rejoicing. How the first buffalo rock was obtained, and its\npower made known, is told in the following story.\n\nLong ago, in the winter time, the buffalo suddenly disappeared. The snow\nwas so deep that the people could not move in search of them, for in those\ndays they had no horses. So the hunters killed deer, elk, and other small\ngame along the river bottoms, and when these were all killed off or driven\naway, the people began to starve.\n\nOne day, a young married man killed a jack-rabbit. He was so hungry that he\nran home as fast as he could, and told one of his wives to hurry and get\nsome water to cook it. While the young woman was going along the path to\nthe river, she heard a beautiful song. It sounded close by, but she looked\nall around and could see no one. The song seemed to come from a cotton-wood\ntree near the path. Looking closely at this tree she saw a queer rock\njammed in a fork, where the tree was split, and with it a few hairs from a\nbuffalo, which had rubbed there. The woman was frightened and dared not\npass the tree. Pretty soon the singing stopped, and the I-nis'-kim [buffalo\nrock] spoke to the woman and said: \"Take me to your lodge, and when it is\ndark, call in the people and teach them the song you have just heard. Pray,\ntoo, that you may not starve, and that the buffalo may come back. Do this,\nand when day comes, your hearts will be glad.\"\n\nThe woman went on and got some water, and when she came back, took the rock\nand gave it to her husband, telling him about the song and what the rock\nhad said. As soon as it was dark, the man called the chiefs and old men to\nhis lodge, and his wife taught them this song. They prayed, too, as the\nrock had said should be done. Before long, they heard a noise far off. It\nwas the tramp of a great herd of buffalo coming. Then they knew that the\nrock was very powerful, and, ever since that, the people have taken care of\nit and prayed to it.\n\n[NOTE.--I-nis'-kims are usually small _Ammonites_, or sections of\n_Baculites,_ or sometimes merely oddly shaped nodules of flint. It is said\nof them that if an I-nis'-kim is wrapped up and left undisturbed for a long\ntime, it will have young ones; two small stones similar in shape to the\noriginal one will be found in the package with it.]\n\n\n\nORIGIN OF THE WORM PIPE\n\n\nThere was once a man who was very fond of his wife. After they had been\nmarried for some time they had a child, a boy. After that, the woman got\nsick, and did not get well. The young man did not wish to take a second\nwoman. He loved his wife so much. The woman grew worse and\nworse. Doctoring did not seem to do her any good. At last she died. The man\nused to take his baby on his back and travel out, walking over the hills\ncrying. He kept away from the camp. After some time, he said to the little\nchild: \"My little boy, you will have to go and live with your\ngrandmother. I am going to try and find your mother, and bring her back.\"\nHe took the baby to his mother's lodge, and asked her to take care of it,\nand left it with her. Then he started off, not knowing where he was going\nnor what he was going to do.\n\nHe travelled toward the Sand Hills. The fourth night out he had a dream. He\ndreamed that he went into a little lodge, in which lived an old woman. This\nold woman said to him, \"Why are you here, my son?\" He said: \"I am mourning\nday and night, crying all the while. My little son, who is the only one\nleft me, also mourns.\" \"Well,\" said the old woman, \"for whom are you\nmourning?\" He said: \"I am mourning for my wife. She died some time ago. I\nam looking for her.\" \"Oh!\" said the old woman, \"I saw her. She passed this\nway. I myself am not powerful medicine, but over by that far butte lives\nanother old woman. Go to her, and she will give you power to enable you to\ncontinue your journey. You could not go there by yourself without\nhelp. Beyond the next butte from her lodge, you will find the camp of the\nghosts.\"\n\nThe next morning he awoke and went on to the next butte. It took him a long\nday to get there, but he found no lodge there, so he lay down and went to\nsleep. Again he dreamed. In his dream, he saw a little lodge, and an old\nwoman came to the door-way and called him. He went in, and she said to him:\n\"My son, you are very poor. I know why you have come this way. You are\nseeking your wife, who is now in the ghost country. It is a very hard thing\nfor you to get there. You may not be able to get your wife back, but I have\ngreat power, and I will do all I can for you. If you do exactly as I tell\nyou, you may succeed.\" She then spoke to him with wise words, telling him\nwhat he should do. Also she gave him a bundle of medicine, which would help\nhim on his journey.\n\nThen she said: \"You stay here for a while, and I will go over there [to the\nghosts' camp], and try to bring some of your relations; and if I am able to\nbring them back, you may return with them, but on the way you must shut\nyour eyes. If you should open them and look about you, you would die. Then\nyou would never come back. When you get to the camp, you will pass by a big\nlodge, and they will say to you, 'Where are you going, and who told you to\ncome here?' You will reply, 'My grandmother, who is standing out here with\nme, told me to come.' They will try to scare you. They will make fearful\nnoises, and you will see strange and terrible things; but do not be\nafraid.\"\n\nThen the old woman went away, and after a time came back with one of the\nman's relations. He went with this relation to the ghosts' camp. When they\ncame to the big lodge, some one called out and asked the man what he was\ndoing, and he answered as the old woman had told him to do. As he passed on\nthrough the camp, the ghosts tried to scare him with all kinds of fearful\nsights and sounds, but he kept up a brave heart.\n\nHe came to another lodge, and the man who owned it came out, and asked him\nwhere he was going. He said: \"I am looking for my dead wife, I mourn for\nher so much that I cannot rest. My little boy, too, keeps crying for his\nmother. They have offered to give me other wives, but I do not want them. I\nwant the one for whom I am searching.\"\n\nThe ghost said to him: \"It is a fearful thing that you have come here. It\nis very likely that you will never go away. There never was a person here\nbefore.\" The ghost asked him to come into the lodge, and he went.\n\nNow this chief ghost said to him: \"You will stay here four nights, and you\nwill see your wife; but you must be very careful or you will never go\nback. You will die right here.\"\n\nThen the chief went outside and called out for a feast, inviting this man's\nfather-in-law and other relations, who were in the camp, saying, \"Your\nson-in-law invites you to a feast,\" as if to say that their son-in-law was\ndead, and had become a ghost, and had arrived at the ghost camp.\n\nNow when these invited people, the relations and some of the principal men\nof the camp, had reached the lodge, they did not like to go in. They called\nout, \"There is a person here.\" It seems as if there was something about him\nthat they could not bear the smell of. The ghost chief burned sweet pine in\nthe fire, which took away this smell, and the people came in and sat\ndown. Then the host said to them: \"Now pity this son-in-law of yours. He is\nseeking his wife. Neither the great distance nor the fearful sights that he\nhas seen here have weakened his heart. You can see for yourselves he is\ntender-hearted. He not only mourns for his wife, but mourns because his\nlittle boy is now alone with no mother; so pity him and give him back his\nwife.\" The ghosts consulted among themselves, and one said to the person,\n\"Yes, you will stay here four nights; then we will give you a medicine\npipe, the Worm Pipe, and we will give you back your wife, and you may\nreturn to your home.\"\n\nNow, after the third night, the chief ghost called together all the people,\nand they came, the man's wife with them. One of them came beating a drum;\nand following him was another ghost, who carried the Worm Pipe, which they\ngave to him. Then said the chief ghost: \"Now, be very careful. Tomorrow\nyou and your wife will start on your homeward journey. Your wife will carry\nthe medicine pipe, and some of your relations are going along with you for\nfour days. During this time, you must not open your eyes, or you will\nreturn here and be a ghost forever. You see that your wife is not now a\nperson; but in the middle of the fourth day you will be told to look, and\nwhen you have opened your eyes, you will see that your wife has become a\nperson, and that your ghost relations have disappeared.\"\n\nHis father-in-law spoke to him before he went away, and said: \"When you get\nnear home, you must not go at once into the camp. Let some of your\nrelations know that you have arrived, and ask them to build a sweat house\nfor you. Go into this sweat house and wash your body thoroughly, leaving\nno part of it, however small, uncleansed; for if you do you will be nothing\n[will die]. There is something about us ghosts difficult to remove. It is\nonly by a thorough sweat that you can remove it. Take care, now, that you\ndo as I tell you. Do not whip your wife, nor strike her with a knife, nor\nhit her with fire; for if you do, she will vanish before your eyes and\nreturn to the Sand Hills.\"\n\nNow they left the ghost country to go home, and on the fourth day, the wife\nsaid to her husband, \"Open your eyes.\" He looked about him and saw that\nthose who had been with them had vanished, but he found that they\nwere standing in front of the old woman's lodge by the butte. She came out\nand said: \"Here, give me back those mysterious medicines of mine, which\nenabled you to accomplish your purpose.\" He returned them to her, and\nbecame then fully a person once more.\n\nNow, when they drew near to the camp, the woman went on ahead, and sat down\non a butte. Then some curious persons came out to see who it might be. As\nthey approached, the woman called out to them: \"Do not come any nearer. Go\ntell my mother and my relations to put up a lodge for us, a little way from\ncamp, and to build a sweat house near by it.\" When this had been done, the\nman and his wife went in and took a thorough sweat, and then they went into\nthe lodge, and burned sweet grass and purified their clothing and the Worm\nPipe; and then their relations and friends came in to see them. The man\ntold them where he had been, and how he had managed to get back his wife,\nand that the pipe hanging over the door-way was a medicine pipe, the Worm\nPipe, presented to him by his ghost father-in-law. That is how the people\ncame to possess the Worm Pipe. This pipe belongs to that band of the\nPiegans known as _Esk'-sin-i-tup'piks,_ the Worm People.\n\nNot long after this, in the night, this man told his wife to do something;\nand when she did not begin at once, he picked up a brand from the fire, not\nthat he intended to strike her with it, but he made as if he would hit her,\nwhen all at once she vanished, and was never seen again.\n\n\n\nTHE GHOSTS' BUFFALO\n\n\nA long time ago there were four Blackfeet, who went to war against the\nCrees. They travelled a long way, and at last their horses gave out, and\nthey started back toward their homes. As they were going along they came to\nthe Sand Hills; and while they were passing through them, they saw in the\nsand a fresh travois trail, where people had been travelling.\n\nOne of the men said: \"Let us follow this trail until we come up with some\nof our people. Then we will camp with them.\" They followed the trail for a\nlong way, and at length one of the Blackfeet, named E-k[=u]s'-kini,--a very\npowerful person,--said to the others: \"Why follow this longer? It is just\nnothing.\" The others said: \"Not so. These are our people. We will go on\nand camp with them.\" They went on, and toward evening, one of them found a\nstone maul and a dog travois. He said: \"Look at these things. I know this\nmaul and this travois. They belonged to my mother, who died. They were\nburied with her. This is strange.\" He took the things. When night overtook\nthe men, they camped.\n\nEarly in the morning, they heard, all about them, sounds as if a camp of\npeople were there. They heard a young man shouting a sort of war cry, as\nyoung men do; women chopping wood; a man calling for a feast, asking people\nto come to his lodge and smoke,--all the different sounds of the camp. They\nlooked about, but could see nothing; and then they were frightened and\ncovered their heads with their robes. At last they took courage, and started\nto look around and see what they could learn about this strange thing. For\na little while they saw nothing, but pretty soon one of them said: \"Look\nover there. See that pis'kun. Let us go over and look at it.\" As they were\ngoing toward it, one of them picked up a stone pointed arrow. He said:\n\"Look at this. It belonged to my father. This is his place.\" They started\nto go on toward the pis'kun, but suddenly they could see no pis'kun. It had\ndisappeared all at once.\n\nA little while after this, one of them spoke up, and said: \"Look over\nthere. There is my father running buffalo. There! he has killed. Let us go\nover to him.\" They all looked where this man pointed, and they could see a\nperson on a white horse, running buffalo. While they were looking, the\nperson killed the buffalo, and got off his horse to butcher it. They\nstarted to go over toward him, and saw him at work butchering, and saw him\nturn the buffalo over on its back; but before they got to the place where\nhe was, the person got on his horse and rode off, and when they got to\nwhere he had been skinning the buffalo, they saw lying on the ground only a\ndead mouse. There was no buffalo there. By the side of the mouse was a\nbuffalo chip, and lying on it was an arrow painted red. The man said: \"That\nis my father's arrow. That is the way he painted them.\" He took it up in\nhis hands; and when he held it in his hands, he saw that it was not an\narrow but a blade of spear grass. Then he laid it down, and it was an arrow\nagain.\n\nAnother Blackfoot found a buffalo rock, I-nis'-kim.\n\nSome time after this, the men got home to their camp. The man who had\ntaken the maul and the dog travois, when he got home and smelled the smoke\nfrom the fire, died, and so did his horse. It seems that the shadow of the\nperson who owned the things was angry at him and followed him home. Two\nothers of these Blackfeet have since died, killed in war; but\nE-k[=u]s'-kini is alive yet. He took a stone and an iron arrow point that\nhad belonged to his father, and always carried them about with him. That is\nwhy he has lived so long. The man who took the stone arrow point found\nnear the pis'kun, which had belonged to his father, took it home with\nhim. This was his medicine. After that he was badly wounded in two fights,\nbut he was not killed; he got well.\n\nThe one who took the buffalo rock, I-nis'-kim, it afterward made strong to\ncall the buffalo into the pis'kun. He would take the rock and put it in his\nlodge close to the fire, where he could look at it, and would pray over it\nand make medicine. Sometimes he would ask for a hundred buffalo to jump\ninto the pis'kun, and the next day a hundred would jump in. He was\npowerful.\n\n\n\n\n\nSTORIES OF OLD MAN\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLACKFOOT GENESIS\n\n\nAll animals of the Plains at one time heard and knew him, and all birds of\nthe air heard and knew him. All things that he had made understood him,\nwhen he spoke to them,--the birds, the animals, and the people.\n\nOld Man was travelling about, south of here, making the people. He came\nfrom the south, travelling north, making animals and birds as he passed\nalong. He made the mountains, prairies, timber, and brush first. So he went\nalong, travelling northward, making things as he went, putting rivers here\nand there, and falls on them, putting red paint here and there in the\nground,--fixing up the world as we see it to-day. He made the Milk River\n(the Teton) and crossed it, and, being tired, went up on a little hill and\nlay down to rest. As he lay on his back, stretched out on the ground, with\narms extended, he marked himself out with stones,--the shape of his body,\nhead, legs, arms, and everything. There you can see those rocks\nto-day. After he had rested, he went on northward, and stumbled over a\nknoll and fell down on his knees. Then he said, \"You are a bad thing to be\nstumbling against\"; so he raised up two large buttes there, and named them\nthe Knees, and they are called so to this day. He went on further north,\nand with some of the rocks he carried with him he built the Sweet Grass\nHills.\n\nOld Man covered the plains with grass for the animals to feed on. He marked\noff a piece of ground, and in it he made to grow all kinds of roots and\nberries,--camas, wild carrots, wild turnips, sweet-root, bitter-root,\nsarvis berries, bull berries, cherries, plums, and rosebuds. He put trees\nin the ground. He put all kinds of animals on the ground. When he made the\nbighorn with its big head and horns, he made it out on the prairie. It did\nnot seem to travel easily on the prairie; it was awkward and could not go\nfast. So he took it by one of its horns, and led it up into the mountains,\nand turned it loose; and it skipped about among the rocks, and went up\nfearful places with ease. So he said, \"This is the place that suits you;\nthis is what you are fitted for, the rocks and the mountains.\" While he was\nin the mountains, he made the antelope out of dirt, and turned it loose, to\nsee how it would go. It ran so fast that it fell over some rocks and hurt\nitself. He saw that this would not do, and took the antelope down on the\nprairie, and turned it loose; and it ran away fast and gracefully, and he\nsaid, \"This is what you are suited to.\"\n\nOne day Old Man determined that he would make a woman and a child; so he\nformed them both--the woman and the child, her son--of clay. After he had\nmoulded the clay in human shape, he said to the clay, \"You must be people,\"\nand then he covered it up and left it, and went away. The next morning he\nwent to the place and took the covering off, and saw that the clay shapes\nhad changed a little. The second morning there was still more change, and\nthe third still more. The fourth morning he went to the place, took the\ncovering off, looked at the images, and told them to rise and walk; and\nthey did so. They walked down to the river with their Maker, and then he\ntold them that his name was _Na'pi,_ Old Man.\n\nAs they were standing by the river, the woman said to him, \"How is it? will\nwe always live, will there be no end to it?\" He said: \"I have never thought\nof that. We will have to decide it. I will take this buffalo chip and throw\nit in the river. If it floats, when people die, in four days they will\nbecome alive again; they will die for only four days. But if it sinks,\nthere will be an end to them.\" He threw the chip into the river, and it\nfloated. The woman turned and picked up a stone, and said: \"No, I will\nthrow this stone in the river; if it floats we will always live, if it\nsinks people must die, that they may always be sorry for each other.\"[1]\nThe woman threw the stone into the water, and it sank. \"There,\" said Old\nMan, \"you have chosen. There will be an end to them.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: That is, that their friends who survive may always remember\nthem.]\n\nIt was not many nights after, that the woman's child died, and she cried a\ngreat deal for it. She said to Old Man: \"Let us change this. The law that\nyou first made, let that be a law.\" He said: \"Not so. What is made law must\nbe law. We will undo nothing that we have done. The child is dead, but it\ncannot be changed. People will have to die.\"\n\nThat is how we came to be people. It is he who made us.\n\nThe first people were poor and naked, and did not know how to get a\nliving. Old Man showed them the roots and berries, and told them that they\ncould eat them; that in a certain month of the year they could peel the\nbark off some trees and eat it, that it was good. He told the people that\nthe animals should be their food, and gave them to the people, saying,\n\"These are your herds.\" He said: \"All these little animals that live in the\nground--rats, squirrels, skunks, beavers--are good to eat. You need not\nfear to eat of their flesh.\" He made all the birds that fly, and told the\npeople that there was no harm in their flesh, that it could be eaten. The\nfirst people that he created he used to take about through the timber and\nswamps and over the prairies, and show them the different plants. Of a\ncertain plant he would say, \"The root of this plant, if gathered in a\ncertain month of the year, is good for a certain sickness.\" So they\nlearned the power of all herbs. In those days there were buffalo. Now the\npeople had no arms, but those black animals with long beards were armed;\nand once, as the people were moving about, the buffalo saw them, and ran\nafter them, and hooked them, and killed and ate them. One day, as the Maker\nof the people was travelling over the country, he saw some of his children,\nthat he had made, lying dead, torn to pieces and partly eaten by the\nbuffalo. When he saw this he was very sad. He said: \"This will not do. I\nwill change this. The people shall eat the buffalo.\"\n\nHe went to some of the people who were left, and said to them, \"How is it\nthat you people do nothing to these animals that are killing you?\" The\npeople said: \"What can we do? We have no way to kill these animals, while\nthey are armed and can kill us.\" Then said the Maker: \"That is not hard. I\nwill make you a weapon that will kill these animals.\" So he went out, and\ncut some sarvis berry shoots, and brought them in, and peeled the bark off\nthem. He took a larger piece of wood, and flattened it, and tied a string\nto it, and made a bow. Now, as he was the master of all birds and could do\nwith them as he wished, he went out and caught one, and took feathers from\nits wing, and split them, and tied them to the shaft of wood. He tied four\nfeathers along the shaft, and tried the arrow at a mark, and found that it\ndid not fly well. He took these feathers off, and put on three; and when he\ntried it again, he found that it was good. He went out and began to break\nsharp pieces off the stones. He tried them, and found that the black flint\nstones made the best arrow points, and some white flints. Then he taught\nthe people how to use these things.\n\nThen he said: \"The next time you go out, take these things with you, and\nuse them as I tell you, and do not run from these animals. When they run at\nyou, as soon as they get pretty close, shoot the arrows at them, as I have\ntaught you; and you will see that they will run from you or will run in a\ncircle around you.\"\n\nNow, as people became plenty, one day three men went out on to the plain to\nsee the buffalo, but they had no arms. They saw the animals, but when the\nbuffalo saw the men, they ran after them and killed two of them, but one\ngot away. One day after this, the people went on a little hill to look\nabout, and the buffalo saw them, and said, \"_Saiyah_, there is some more of\nour food,\" and they rushed on them. This time the people did not run. They\nbegan to shoot at the buffalo with the bows and arrows _Na'pi_ had given\nthem, and the buffalo began to fall; but in the fight a person was killed.\n\nAt this time these people had flint knives given them, and they cut up the\nbodies of the dead buffalo. It is not healthful to eat the meat raw, so Old\nMan gathered soft dry rotten driftwood and made punk of it, and then got a\npiece of hard wood, and drilled a hole in it with an arrow point, and gave\nthem a pointed piece of hard wood, and taught them how to make a fire with\nfire sticks, and to cook the flesh of these animals and eat it.\n\nThey got a kind of stone that was in the land, and then took another harder\nstone and worked one upon the other, and hollowed out the softer one, and\nmade a kettle of it. This was the fashion of their dishes.\n\nAlso Old Man said to the people: \"Now, if you are overcome, you may go and\nsleep, and get power. Something will come to you in your dream, that will\nhelp you. Whatever these animals tell you to do, you must obey them, as\nthey appear to you in your sleep. Be guided by them. If anybody wants help,\nif you are alone and travelling, and cry aloud for help, your prayer will\nbe answered. It may be by the eagles, perhaps by the buffalo, or by the\nbears. Whatever animal answers your prayer, you must listen to him.\" That\nwas how the first people got through the world, by the power of their\ndreams.\n\nAfter this, Old Man kept on, travelling north. Many of the animals that he\nhad made followed him as he went. The animals understood him when he spoke\nto them, and he used them as his servants. When he got to the north point\nof the Porcupine Mountains, there he made some more mud images of people,\nand blew breath upon them, and they became people. He made men and women.\nThey asked him, \"What are we to eat?\" He made many images of clay, in the\nform of buffalo. Then he blew breath on these, and they stood up; and when\nhe made signs to them, they started to run. Then he said to the people,\n\"Those are your food.\" They said to him, \"Well, now, we have those animals;\nhow are we to kill them?\" \"I will show you,\" he said. He took them to the\ncliff, and made them build rock piles like this; and he made the people\nhide behind these piles of rock, and said, \"When I lead the buffalo this\nway, as I bring them opposite to you, rise up.\"\n\nAfter he had told them how to act, he started on toward a herd of\nbuffalo. He began to call them, and the buffalo started to run toward him,\nand they followed him until they were inside the lines. Then he dropped\nback; and as the people rose up, the buffalo ran in a straight line and\njumped over the cliff. He told the people to go and take the flesh of those\nanimals. They tried to tear the limbs apart, but they could not. They tried\nto bite pieces out, and could not. So Old Man went to the edge of the\ncliff, and broke some pieces of stone with sharp edges, and told them to\ncut the flesh with these. When they had taken the skins from these animals,\nthey set up some poles and put the hides on them, and so made a shelter to\nsleep under. There were some of these buffalo that went over the cliff that\nwere not dead. Their legs were broken, but they were still alive. The\npeople cut strips of green hide, and tied stones in the middle, and made\nlarge mauls, and broke in the skulls of the buffalo, and killed them.\n\nAfter he had taught those people these things, he started off again,\ntravelling north, until he came to where Bow and Elbow rivers meet. There\nhe made some more people, and taught them the same things. From here he\nagain went on northward. When he had come nearly to the Red Deer's River,\nhe reached the hill where the Old Man sleeps. There he lay down and rested\nhimself. The form of his body is to be seen there yet.\n\nWhen he awoke from his sleep, he travelled further northward and came to a\nfine high hill. He climbed to the top of it, and there sat down to rest. He\nlooked over the country below him, and it pleased him. Before him the hill\nwas steep, and he said to himself, \"Well, this is a fine place for sliding;\nI will have some fun,\" and he began to slide down the hill. The marks where\nhe slid down are to be seen yet, and the place is known to all people as\nthe \"Old Man's Sliding Ground.\"\n\nThis is as far as the Blackfeet followed Old Man. The Crees know what he\ndid further north.\n\nIn later times once, _Na'pi_ said, \"Here I will mark you off a piece of\nground,\" and he did so.[1] Then he said: \"There is your land, and it is\nfull of all kinds of animals, and many things grow in this land. Let no\nother people come into it. This is for you five tribes (Blackfeet, Bloods,\nPiegans, Gros Ventres, Sarcees). When people come to cross the line, take\nyour bows and arrows, your lances and your battle axes, and give them battle\nand keep them out. If they gain a footing, trouble will come to you.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: The boundaries of this land are given as running east from a\npoint in the summit of the Rocky Mountains west of Fort Edmonton, taking in\nthe country to the east and south, including the Porcupine Hills, Cypress\nMountains, and Little Rocky Mountains, down to the mouth of the Yellowstone\non the Missouri; then west to the head of the Yellowstone, and across the\nRocky Mountains to the Beaverhead; thence to the summit of the Rocky\nMountains and north along them to the starting-point.]\n\nOur forefathers gave battle to all people who came to cross these lines,\nand kept them out. Of late years we have let our friends, the white people,\ncome in, and you know the result. We, his children, have failed to obey his\nlaws.\n\n\n\nTHE DOG AND THE STICK\n\n\nThis happened long ago. In those days the people were hungry. No buffalo\nnor antelope were seen on the prairie. The deer and the elk trails were\ncovered with grass and leaves; not even a rabbit could be found in the\nbrush. Then the people prayed, saying: \"Oh, Old Man, help us now, or we\nshall die. The buffalo and deer are gone. Uselessly we kindle the morning\nfires; useless are our arrows; our knives stick fast in the sheaths.\"\n\nThen Old Man started out to find the game, and he took with him a young\nman, the son of a chief. For many days they travelled the prairies and ate\nnothing but berries and roots. One day they climbed a high ridge, and when\nthey had reached the top, they saw, far off by a stream, a single lodge.\n\n\"What kind of a person can it be,\" said the young man, \"who camps there all\nalone, far from friends?\"\n\n\"That,\" said Old Man, \"is the one who has hidden all the buffalo and deer\nfrom the people. He has a wife and a little son.\"\n\nThen they went close to the lodge, and Old Man changed himself into a\nlittle dog, and he said, \"That is I.\" Then the young man changed himself\ninto a root-digger,[1] and he said, \"That is I.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: A carved and painted stick about three feet long, shaped like\na sacking needle, used by women to unearth roots.]\n\nNow the little boy, playing about, found the dog, and he carried it to his\nfather, saying, \"Look! See what a pretty little dog I have found.\" \"Throw\nit away,\" said his father; \"it is not a dog.\" And the little boy cried, but\nhis father made him carry the dog away. Then the boy found the root-digger;\nand, again picking up the dog, he carried them both to the lodge, saying,\n\"Look, mother! see the pretty root-digger I have found!\"\n\n\"Throw them both away,\" said his father; \"that is not a stick, that is not\na dog.\"\n\n\"I want that stick,\" said the woman; \"let our son have the little dog.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said her husband, \"but remember, if trouble comes, you bring\nit on yourself and on our son.\" Then he sent his wife and son off to pick\nberries; and when they were out of sight, he went out and killed a buffalo\ncow, and brought the meat into the lodge and covered it up, and the bones,\nskin and offal he threw in the creek. When his wife returned, he gave her\nsome of the meat to roast; and while they were eating, the little boy fed\nthe dog three times, and when he gave it more, his father took the meat\naway, saying, \"That is not a dog, you shall not feed it more.\"\n\nIn the night, when all were asleep, Old Man and the young man arose in\ntheir right shapes, and ate of the meat. \"You were right,\" said the young\nman; \"this is surely the person who has hidden the buffalo from us.\"\n\"Wait,\" said Old Man; and when they had finished eating, they changed\nthemselves back into the stick and the dog.\n\nIn the morning the man sent his wife and son to dig roots, and the woman\ntook the stick with her. The dog followed the little boy. Now, as they\ntravelled along in search of roots, they came near a cave, and at its mouth\nstood a buffalo cow. Then the dog ran into the cave, and the stick,\nslipping from the woman's hand, followed, gliding along like a snake. In\nthis cave they found all the buffalo and other game, and they began to\ndrive them out; and soon the prairie was covered with buffalo and\ndeer. Never before were seen so many.\n\nPretty soon the man came running up, and he said to his wife, \"Who now\ndrives out my animals?\" and she replied, \"The dog and the stick are now in\nthere.\" \"Did I not tell you,\" said he, \"that those were not what they\nlooked like? See now the trouble you have brought upon us,\" and he put an\narrow on his bow and waited for them to come out. But they were cunning,\nfor when the last animal--a big bull--was about to go out, the stick\ngrasped him by the hair under his neck, and coiled up in it, and the dog\nheld on by the hair beneath, until they were far out on the prairie, when\nthey changed into their true shapes, and drove the buffalo toward camp.\n\nWhen the people saw the buffalo coming, they drove a big band of them to\nthe pis'kun; but just as the leaders were about to jump off, a raven came\nand flapped its wings in front of them and croaked, and they turned off\nanother way. Every time a band of buffalo was driven near the pis'kun, this\nraven frightened them away. Then Old Man knew that the raven was the one\nwho had kept the buffalo cached.\n\nSo he went and changed himself into a beaver, and lay stretched out on the\nbank of the river, as if dead; and the raven, which was very hungry, flew\ndown and began to pick at him. Then Old Man caught it by the legs and ran\nwith it to camp, and all the chiefs came together to decide what should be\ndone with it. Some said to kill it, but Old Man said, \"No! I will punish\nit,\" and he tied it over the lodge, right in the smoke hole.\n\nAs the days went by, the raven grew poor and weak, and his eyes were\nblurred with the thick smoke, and he cried continually to Old Man to pity\nhim. One day Old Man untied him, and told him to take his right shape,\nsaying: \"Why have you tried to fool Old Man? Look at me! I cannot die. Look\nat me! Of all peoples and tribes I am the chief. I cannot die. I made the\nmountains. They are standing yet. I made the prairies and the rocks. You\nsee them yet. Go home, then, to your wife and your child, and when you are\nhungry hunt like any one else, or you shall die.\"\n\n\n\nTHE BEARS\n\n\nNow Old Man was walking along, and far off he saw many wolves; and when he\ncame closer, he saw there the chief of the wolves, a very old one, and\nsitting around him were all his children.\n\nOld Man said, \"Pity me, Wolf Chief; make me into a wolf, that I may live\nyour way and catch deer and everything that runs fast.\"\n\n\"Come near then,\" said the Wolf Chief, \"that I may rub your body with my\nhands, so that hair will cover you.\"\n\n\"Hold,\" said Old Man; \"do not cover my body with hair. On my head, arms,\nand legs only, put hair.\"\n\nWhen the Chief Wolf had done so, he said to Old Man: \"You shall have three\ncompanions to help you, one is a very swift runner, another a good runner,\nand the last is not very fast. Take them with you now, and others of my\nyounger children who are learning to hunt, but do not go where the wind\nblows; keep in the shelter, or the young ones will freeze to death.\" Then\nthey went hunting, and Old Man led them on the high buttes, where it was\nvery cold.\n\nAt night, they lay down to sleep, and Old Man nearly froze; and he said to\nthe wolves, \"Cover me with your tails.\" So all the wolves lay down around\nhim, and covered his body with their tails, and he soon got warm and slept.\nBefore long he awoke and said angrily, \"Take off those tails,\" and the\nwolves moved away; but after a little time he again became cold, and cried\nout, \"Oh my young brothers, cover me with your tails or I shall freeze.\"\nSo they lay down by him again and covered his body with their tails.\n\nWhen it was daylight, they all rose and hunted. They saw some moose, and,\nchasing them, killed three. Now, when they were about to eat, the Chief\nWolf came along with many of his children, and one wolf said, \"Let us make\npemmican of those moose\"; and every one was glad. Then said the one who\nmade pemmican, \"No one must look, everybody shut his eyes, while I make the\npemmican\"; but Old Man looked, and the pemmican-maker threw a round bone\nand hit him on the nose, and it hurt. Then Old Man said, \"Let me make the\npemmican.\" So all the wolves shut their eyes, and Old Man took the round\nbone and killed the wolf who had hit him. Then the Chief Wolf was angry,\nand he said, \"Why did you kill your brother?\" \"I didn't mean to,\" replied\nOld Man. \"He looked and I threw the round bone at him, but I only meant to\nhurt him a little.\" Then said the Chief Wolf: \"You cannot live with us any\nlonger. Take one of your companions, and go off by yourselves and hunt.\" So\nOld Man took the swift runner, and they went and lived by themselves a long\ntime; and they killed all the elk, and deer, and antelope, and moose they\nwanted.\n\nOne morning they awoke, and Old Man said: \"Oh my young brother, I have had\na bad dream. Hereafter, when you chase anything, if it jumps a stream, you\nmust not follow it. Even a little spring you must not jump.\" And the wolf\npromised not to jump over water.\n\nNow one day the wolf was chasing a moose, and it ran on to an island. The\nstream about it was very small; so the wolf thought: \"This is such a little\nstream that I must jump it. That moose is very tired, and I don't think it\nwill leave the island.\" So he jumped on to the island, and as soon as he\nentered the brush, a bear caught him, for the island was the home of the\nChief Bear and his two brothers. Old Man waited a long time for the wolf to\ncome back, and then went to look for him. He asked all the birds he met if\nthey had seen him, but they all said they had not.\n\nAt last he saw a kingfisher, who was sitting on a limb overhanging the\nwater. \"Why do you sit there, my young brother?\" said Old Man. \"Because,\"\nreplied the kingfisher, \"the Chief Bear and his brothers have killed your\nwolf; they have eaten the meat and thrown the fat into the river, and\nwhenever I see a piece come floating along, I fly down and get it.\" Then\nsaid Old Man, \"Do the Bear Chief and his brothers often come out? and where\ndo they live?\" \"They come out every morning to play,\" said the kingfisher;\n\"and they live upon that island.\"\n\nOld Man went up there and saw their tracks on the sand, where they had been\nplaying, and he turned himself into a rotten tree. By and by the bears came\nout, and when they saw the tree, the Chief Bear said: \"Look at that rotten\ntree. It is Old Man. Go, brothers, and see if it is not.\" So the two\nbrothers went over to the tree, and clawed it; and they said, \"No, brother,\nit is only a tree.\" Then the Chief Bear went over and clawed and bit the\ntree, and although it hurt Old Man, he never moved. Then the Bear Chief was\nsure it was only a tree, and he began to play with his brothers. Now while\nthey were playing, and all were on their backs, Old Man leaned over and\nshot an arrow into each one of them; and they cried out loudly and ran back\non the island. Then Old Man changed into himself, and walked down along the\nriver. Pretty soon he saw a frog jumping along, and every time it jumped it\nwould say, \"_Ni'-nah O-kyai'-yu_!\" And sometimes it would stop and sing:--\n\n\"_Ni'-nah O-kyai'-yu! Ni'-nah O-kyai'-yu!_ Chief Bear! Chief Bear!\n_Nap'-i I-nit'-si-wah Ni'-nah O-kyai'-yu!\"_ Old Man kill him Chief\nBear! \"What do you say?\" cried Old Man. The frog repeated what he had said.\n\n\"Ah!\" exclaimed Old Man, \"tell me all about it.\"\n\n\"The Chief Bear and his brothers,\" replied the frog, \"were playing on the\nsand, when Old Man shot arrows into them. They are not dead, but the arrows\nare very near their hearts; if you should shove ever so little on them, the\npoints would cut their hearts. I am going after medicine now to cure them.\"\n\nThen Old Man killed the frog and skinned her, and put the hide on himself\nand swam back to the island, and hopped up toward the bears, crying at\nevery step, \"_Ni'-nah O-kyai'-yu!_\" just as the frog had done.\n\n\"Hurry,\" cried the Chief Bear.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Old Man, and he went up and shoved the arrow into his heart.\n\n\"I cured him; he is asleep now,\" he cried, and he went up and shoved the\narrow into the biggest brother's heart. \"I cured them; they are asleep\nnow\"; and he went up and shoved the arrow into the other bear's heart. Then\nhe built a big fire and skinned the bears, and tried out the fat and poured\nit into a hollow in the ground; and he called all the animals to come and\nroll in it, that they might be fat. And all the animals came and rolled in\nit. The bears came first and rolled in it, that is the reason they get so\nfat. Last of all came the rabbits, and the grease was almost all gone; but\nthey filled their paws with it and rubbed it on their backs and between\ntheir hind legs. That is the reason why rabbits have two such large layers\nof fat on their backs, and that is what makes them so fat between the hind\nlegs.\n\n[NOTE.--The four preceding stories show the serious side of Old Man's\ncharacter. Those which follow represent him as malicious, foolish, and\nimpotent.]\n\n\n\nTHE WONDERFUL BIRD\n\n\nOne day, as Old Man was walking about in the woods, he saw something very\nqueer. A bird was sitting on the limb of a tree making a strange noise, and\nevery time it made this noise, its eyes would go out of its head and fasten\non the tree; then it would make another kind of a noise, and its eyes would\ncome back to their places.\n\n\"Little Brother,\" cried Old Man, \"teach me how to do that.\"\n\n\"If I show you how to do that,\" replied the bird, \"you must not let your\neyes go out of your head more than three times a day. If you do, you will\nbe sorry.\"\n\n\"Just as you say, Little Brother. The trick is yours, and I will listen to\nyou.\"\n\nWhen the bird had taught Old Man how to do it, he was very glad, and did it\nthree times right away. Then he stopped. \"That bird has no sense,\" he\nsaid. \"Why did he tell me to do it only three times? I will do it again,\nanyhow.\" So he made his eyes go out a fourth time; but now he could not\ncall them back. Then he called to the bird, \"Oh Little Brother, come help\nme get back my eyes.\" The little bird did not answer him. It had flown\naway. Then Old Man felt all over the trees with his hands, but he could not\nfind his eyes; and he wandered about for a long time, crying and calling\nthe animals to help him.\n\nA wolf had much fun with him. The wolf had found a dead buffalo, and taking\na piece of the meat which smelled bad, he would hold it close to Old\nMan. \"I smell something dead,\" Old Man would say. \"I wish I could find it; I\nam nearly starved to death.\" And he would feel all around for it. Once,\nwhen the wolf was doing this, Old Man caught him, and, plucking out one of\nhis eyes, he put it in his own head. Then he could see, and was able to\nfind his own eyes; but he could never again do the trick the little bird\nhad taught him.\n\n\n\nTHE RACE\n\n\nOnce Old Man was travelling around, when he heard some very queer\nsinging. He had never heard anything like this before, and looked all\naround to see who it was. At last he saw it was the cottontail rabbits,\nsinging and making medicine. They had built a fire, and got a lot of hot\nashes, and they would lie down in these ashes and sing while one covered\nthem up. They would stay there only a short time though, for the ashes were\nvery hot.\n\n\"Little Brothers,\" said Old Man, \"that is very wonderful, how you lie in\nthose hot ashes and coals without burning. I wish you would teach me how to\ndo it.\"\n\n\"Come on, Old Man,\" said the rabbits, \"we will show you how to do it. You\nmust sing our song, and only stay in the ashes a short time.\" So Old Man\nbegan to sing, and he lay down, and they covered him with coals and ashes,\nand they did not burn him at all.\n\n\"That is very nice,\" he said. \"You have powerful medicine. Now I want to\nknow it all, so you lie down and let me cover you up.\"\n\nSo the rabbits all lay down in the ashes, and Old Man covered them up, and\nthen he put the whole fire over them. One old rabbit got out, and Old Man\nwas about to put her back when she said, \"Pity me, my children are about to\nbe born.\"\n\n\"All right,\" replied Old Man. \"I will let you go, so there will be some\nmore rabbits; but I will roast these nicely and have a feast.\" And he put\nmore wood on the fire. When the rabbits were cooked, he cut some red willow\nbrush and laid them on it to cool. The grease soaked into these branches,\nso, even to-day if you hold red willow over a fire, you will see the grease\non the bark. You can see, too, that ever since, the rabbits have a burnt\nplace on their backs, where the one that got away was singed.\n\nOld Man sat down, and was waiting for the rabbits to cool a little, when a\ncoyote came along, limping very badly. \"Pity me, Old Man,\" he said, \"you\nhave lots of cooked rabbits; give me one of them.\"\n\n\"Go away,\" exclaimed Old Man. \"If you are too lazy to catch your food, I\nwill not help you.\"\n\n\"My leg is broken,\" said the coyote. \"I can't catch anything, and I am\nstarving. Just give me half a rabbit.\"\n\n\"I don't care if you die,\" replied Old Man. \"I worked hard to cook all\nthese rabbits, and I will not give any away. But I will tell you what we\nwill do. We will run a race to that butte, way out there, and if you beat\nme you can have a rabbit.\"\n\n\"All right,\" said the coyote. So they started. Old Man ran very fast, and\nthe coyote limped along behind, but close to him, until they got near to\nthe butte. Then the coyote turned round and ran back very fast, for he was\nnot lame at all. It took Old Man a long time to go back, and just before he\ngot to the fire, the coyote swallowed the last rabbit, and trotted off over\nthe prairie.\n\n\n\nTHE BAD WEAPONS\n\n\nOnce Old Man was fording a river, when the current carried him down stream,\nand he lost his weapons. He was very hungry, so he took the first wood he\ncould find, and made a bow and arrows, and a handle for his knife and\nspear. When he had finished them, he started up a mountain. Pretty soon he\nsaw a bear digging roots, and he thought he would have some fun, so he hid\nbehind a log and called out, \"No-tail animal, what are you doing?\" The\nbear looked up, but, seeing no one, kept on digging.\n\nThen Old Man called out again, \"Hi! you dirt-eater!\" and then he dodged\nback out of sight. Then the bear sat up again, and this time he saw Old Man\nand ran after him.\n\nOld Man began shooting arrows at him, but the points only stuck in the\nskin, for the shafts were rotten and snapped off. Then he threw his spear,\nbut that too was rotten, and broke. He tried to stab the bear, but his\nknife handle was also rotten and broke, so he turned and ran; and the bear\npursued him. As he ran, he looked about for some weapon, but there was\nnone, not even a rock. He called out to the animals to help him, but none\ncame. His breath was almost gone, and the bear was very close to him, when\nhe saw a bull's horn lying on the ground. He picked it up, placed it on his\nhead, and, turning around, bellowed so loudly that the bear was scared and\nran away.\n\n\n\nTHE ELK\n\n\nOld Man was very hungry. He had been a long time without food, and was\nthinking how he could get something to eat, when he saw a band of elk on a\nridge. So he went up to them and said, \"Oh, my brothers, I am lonesome\nbecause I have no one to follow me.\"\n\n\"Go on, Old Man,\" said the elk, \"we will follow you.\" Old Man led them\nabout a long time, and when it was dark, he came near a high-cut bank. He\nran around to one side where there was a slope, and he went down and then\nstood right under the steep bluff, and called out, \"Come on, that is a nice\njump, you will laugh.\"\n\nSo the elk jumped off, all but one cow, and were killed.\n\n\"Come on,\" said Old Man, \"they have all jumped but you, it is nice.\"\n\n\"Take pity on me,\" replied the cow. \"My child is about to be born, and I am\nvery heavy. I am afraid to jump.\"\n\n\"Go on, then,\" answered Old Man; \"go and live; then there will be plenty of\nelk again some day.\"\n\nNow Old Man built a fire and cooked some ribs, and then he skinned all the\nelk, cut up the meat to dry, and hung the tongues up on a pole.\n\nNext day he went off, and did not come back until night, when he was very\nhungry again. \"I'll roast some ribs,\" he said, \"and a tongue, and I'll\nstuff a marrow gut and cook that. I guess that will be enough for\nto-night.\" But when he got to the place, the meat was all gone. The wolves\nhad eaten it. \"I was smart to hang up those tongues,\" he said, \"or I would\nnot have had anything to eat.\" But the tongues were all hollow. The mice\nhad eaten the meat out, leaving only the skin. So Old Man starved again.\n\n\n\nOLD MAN DOCTORS\n\n\nA pis'kun had been built, and many buffalo had been run in and killed. The\ncamp was full of meat. Great sheets of it hung in the lodges and on the\nracks outside; and now the women, having cut up all the meat, were working\non the hides, preparing some for robes, and scraping the hair from others,\nto make leather.\n\nAbout this time, Old Man came along. He had come from far and was very\ntired, so he entered the first lodge he came to and sat down. Now this\nlodge belonged to three old women. Their husbands had died or been killed\nin war, and they had no relations to help them, so they were very\npoor. After Old Man had rested a little, they set a dish of food before\nhim. It was dried bull meat, very tough, and some pieces of belly fat.\n\n\"_Hai'-yah ho_!\" cried Old Man, after he had tasted a piece. \"You treat me\nbadly. A whole pis'kun of fat buffalo just killed; the camp red with meat,\nand here these old women give me tough bull meat and belly fat to eat.\nHurry now! roast me some ribs and a piece of back fat.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" exclaimed one old woman. \"We have no good food. All our helpers are\ndead, and we take what others leave. Bulls and poor cows are all the people\nleave us.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Old Man, \"how poor! you are very poor. Take courage now. I will\nhelp you. To-morrow they will run another band into the pis'kun. I will be\nthere. I will kill the fattest cow, and you can have it all.\"\n\nThen the old women were glad. They talked to one another, saying, \"Very good\nheart, Old Man. He helps the poor. Now we will live. We will have marrow\nguts and liver. We will have paunch and fat kidneys.\"\n\nOld Man said nothing more. He ate the tough meat and belly fat, and rolled\nup in his robe and went to sleep.\n\nMorning came. The people climbed the bluffs and went out on to the prairie,\nwhere they hid behind the piles of rock and bushes, which reached far out\nfrom the cliff in lines which were always further and further apart. After\na while, he who leads the buffalo was seen coming, bringing a large band\nafter him. Soon they were inside the lines. The people began to rise up\nbehind them, shouting and waving their robes. Now they reached the edge of\nthe bluff. The leaders tried to stop and turn, but those behind kept\npushing on, and nearly the whole band dashed down over the rocks, only a\nfew of the last ones turning aside and escaping.\n\nThe lodges were now deserted. All the people were gone to the pis'kun to\nkill the buffalo and butcher them. Where was Old Man? Did he take his bow\nand arrows and go to the pis'kun to kill a fat cow for the poor old women?\nNo. He was sneaking around, lifting the door-ways of the lodges and\nlooking in. Bad person, Old Man. In the chiefs lodge he saw a little child,\na girl, asleep. Outside was a buffalo's gall, and taking a long stick he\ndipped the end of it in the gall; and then, reaching carefully into the\nlodge, he drew it across the lips of the child asleep. Then he threw the\nstick away, and went in and sat down. Soon the girl awoke and began to\ncry. The gall was very bitter and burned her lips.\n\n\"Pity me, Old Man,\" she said. \"Take this fearful thing from my lips.\"\n\n\"I do not doctor unless I am paid,\" he replied. Then said the girl: \"See\nall my father's Weapons hanging there. His shield, war head-dress, scalps,\nand knife. Cure me now, and I will give you some of them.\"\n\n\"I have more of such things than I want,\" he replied. (What a liar! he had\nnone at all.)\n\nAgain said the girl, \"Pity me, help me now, and I will give you my father's\nwhite buffalo robe.\"\n\n\"I have plenty of white robes,\" replied Old Man. (Again he lied, for he\nnever had one.)\n\n\"Old Man,\" again said the girl, \"in this lodge lives a widow woman, my\nfather's relation. Remove this fearful thing from my lips, and I will have\nmy father give her to you.\"\n\n\"Now you speak well,\" replied Old Man. \"I am a little glad. I have many\nwives\" (he had none), \"but I would just as soon have another one.\"\n\nSo he went close to the child and pretended to doctor her, but instead of\nthat, he killed her and ran out. He went to the old women's lodge, and\nwrapped a strip of cowskin about his head, and commenced to groan, as if he\nwas very sick.\n\nNow the people began to come from the pis'kun, carrying great loads of\nmeat. This dead girl's mother came, and when she saw her child lying dead,\nand blood on the ground, she ran back crying out: \"My daughter has been\nkilled! My daughter has been killed!\"\n\nThen all the people began to shout out and run around, and the warriors and\nyoung men looked in the lodges, and up and down the creek in the brush, but\nthey could find no one who might have killed the child.\n\nThen said the father of the dead girl: \"Now, to-day, we will find out who\nkilled this child. Every man in this camp--every young man, every old\nman--must come and jump across the creek; and if any one does not jump\nacross, if he falls in the water, that man is the one who did the\nkilling.\" All heard this, and they began to gather at the creek, one behind\nanother; and the women and children went to look on, for they wanted to see\nthe person who had killed the little child. Now they were ready. They were\nabout to jump, when some one cried out, \"Old Man is not here.\"\n\n\"True,\" said the chief, looking around, \"Old Man is not here.\" And he sent\ntwo young men to bring him.\n\n\"Old Man!\" they cried out, when they came to the lodge, \"a child has been\nkilled. We have all got to jump to find out who did it. The chief has sent\nfor you. You will have to jump, too.\"\n\n\"_Ki'-yo!_\" exclaimed the old women. \"Old Man is very sick. Go off, and let\nhim alone. He is so sick he could not kill meat for us to-day.\"\n\n\"It can't be helped,\" the young men replied. \"The chief says every one must\njump.\"\n\nSo Old Man went out toward the creek very slowly, and very much scared. He\ndid not know what to do. As he was going along he saw a _ni'-po-muk-i_[1]\nand he said: \"Oh my little brother, pity me. Give me some of your power to\njump the creek, and here is my necklace. See how pretty it is. I will give\nit to you.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: The chickadee.]\n\nSo they traded; Old Man took some of the bird's power, and the bird took\nOld Man's necklace and put it on.\n\nNow they jump. _Wo'-ka-hi!_ they jump way across and far on to the\nground. Now they jump; another! another! another! Now it comes Old Man's\nturn. He runs, he jumps, he goes high, and strikes the ground far beyond\nany other person's jump. Now comes the _ni'-po-muk-i. \"Wo'-ka-hi!_\" the men\nshout. \"_Ki'-yo!_\" cry the women, \"the bird has fallen in the creek.\" The\nwarriors are running to kill him. \"Wait! Hold on!\" cries the bird. \"Let me\nspeak a few words. Every one knows I am a good jumper. I can jump further\nthan any one; but Old Man asked me for some of my power, and I gave it to\nhim, and he gave me this necklace. It is very heavy and pulled me\ndown. That is why I fell into the creek.\"\n\nThen the people began to shout and talk again, some saying to kill the\nbird, and some not, when Old Man shouted out: \"Wait, listen to me. What's\nthe use of quarrelling or killing anybody? Let us go back, and I will\ndoctor the child alive.\"\n\nGood words. The people were glad. So they went back, and got ready for the\ndoctoring. First, Old Man ordered a large fire built in the lodge where the\ndead girl was lying. Two old men were placed at the back of the lodge,\nfacing each other. They had spears, which they held above their heads and\nwere to thrust back and forth at each other in time to the singing. Near\nthe door-way were placed two old women, facing each other. Each one held a\n_puk'-sah-tchis,_[1]--a maul,--with which she was to beat time to the\nsinging. The other seats in the lodge were taken by people who were to\nsing. Now Old Man hung a big roll of belly fat close over the fire, so that\nthe hot grease began to drip, and everything was ready, and the singing\nbegan. This was Old Man's song:--\n\n[Footnote 1: A round or oblong stone, to which a handle was bound by\nrawhide thongs, used for breaking marrow bones, etc.]\n\n[Illustration:]\n\nAhk-sa'-k[=e]-wah, Ahk-sa'-k[=e]-wah, Ahk-sa'-k[=e]-wah, etc. I don't\ncare, I don't care, I don't care.\n\nAnd so they sung for a long time, the old men jabbing their spears at each\nother, and the old women pretending to hit each other with their mauls.\n\nAfter a while they rested, and Old Man said: \"Now I want every one to shut\ntheir eyes. No one can look. I am going to begin the real doctoring.\" So\nthe people shut their eyes, and the singing began again. Then Old Man took\nthe dripping hot fat from the fire, gave it a mighty swing around the\ncircle in front of the people's faces, jumped out the door-way, and ran\noff. Every one was burned. The two old men wounded each other with their\nspears. The old women knocked each other on the head with their mauls. The\npeople cried and groaned, wiped their burned faces, and rushed out the\ndoor; but Old Man was gone. They saw him no more.\n\n\n\nTHE ROCK\n\n\nOnce Old Man was travelling, and becoming tired he sat down on a rock to\nrest. After a while he started to go on, and because the sun was hot he\nthrew his robe over the rock, saying: \"Here, I give you my robe, because\nyou are poor and have let me rest on you. Always keep it.\"\n\nHe had not gone very far, when it began to rain, and meeting a coyote he\nsaid: \"Little brother, run back to that rock, and ask him to lend me his\nrobe. We will cover ourselves with it and keep dry.\" So the coyote ran back\nto the rock, but returned without the robe. \"Where is the robe?\" asked Old\nMan. \"_Sai-yah!\"_ replied the coyote. \"The rock said you gave him the\nrobe, and he was going to keep it.\"\n\nThen Old Man was very angry, and went back to the rock and jerked the robe\noff it, saying: \"I only wanted to borrow this robe until the rain was over,\nbut now that you have acted so mean about it, I will keep it. You don't\nneed a robe anyhow. You have been out in the rain and snow all your life,\nand it will not hurt you to live so always.\"\n\nWith the coyote he went off into a coul\u00e9e, and sat down. The rain was\nfalling, and they covered themselves with the robe and were very\ncomfortable. Pretty soon they heard a loud noise, and Old Man told the\ncoyote to go up on the hill and see what it was. Soon he came running back,\nsaying, \"Run! run! the big rock is coming\"; and they both ran away as fast\nas they could. The coyote tried to crawl into a badger hole, but it was too\nsmall for him and he stuck fast, and before he could get out, the rock\nrolled over him and crushed his hind parts. Old Man was scared, and as he\nran he threw off his robe and what clothes he could, so that he might run\nfaster. The rock kept gaining on him all the time.\n\nNot far off was a band of buffalo bulls, and Old Man cried out to them,\nsaying, \"Oh my brothers, help me, help me. Stop that rock.\" The bulls ran\nand tried to stop it, but it crushed their heads. Some deer and antelope\ntried to help Old Man, but they were killed, too. A lot of rattlesnakes\nformed themselves into a lariat, and tried to catch it; but those at the\nnoose end were all cut to pieces. The rock was now close to Old Man, so\nclose that it began to hit his heels; and he was about to give up, when he\nsaw a flock of bull bats circling over his head. \"Oh my little brothers,\"\nhe cried, \"help me. I am almost dead.\" Then the bull bats flew down, one\nafter another, against the rock; and every time one of them hit it he\nchipped off a piece, and at last one hit it fair in the middle and broke it\ninto two pieces.\n\nThen Old Man was very glad. He went to where there was a nest of bull bats,\nand made the young ones' mouths very wide and pinched off their bills, to\nmake them pretty and queer looking. That is the reason they look so to-day.\n\n\n\nTHE THEFT FROM THE SUN\n\n\nOnce Old Man was travelling around, when he came to the Sun's lodge, and\nthe Sun asked him to stay a while. Old Man was very glad to do so.\n\nOne day the meat was all gone, and the Sun said, \"_Kyi_! Old Man, what say\nyou if we go and kill some deer?\"\n\n\"You speak well,\" replied Old Man. \"I like deer meat.\"\n\nThe Sun took down a bag and pulled out a beautiful pair of leggings. They\nwere embroidered with porcupine quills and bright feathers. \"These,\" said\nthe Sun, \"are my hunting leggings. They are great medicine. All I have to\ndo is to put them on and walk around a patch of brush, when the leggings\nset it on fire and drive the deer out so that I can shoot them.\"\n\n\"_Hai-yah_!\" exclaimed Old Man. \"How wonderful!\" He made up his mind he\nwould have those leggings, if he had to steal them.\n\nThey went out to hunt, and the first patch of brush they came to, the Sun\nset on fire with his hunting leggings. A lot of white-tail deer ran out,\nand they each shot one.\n\nThat night, when they went to bed, the Sun pulled off his leggings and\nplaced them to one side. Old Man saw where he put them, and in the middle\nof the night, when every one was asleep, he stole them and went off. He\ntravelled a long time, until he had gone far and was very tired, and then,\nmaking a pillow of the leggings, lay down and slept. In the morning, he\nheard some one talking. The Sun was saying, \"Old Man, why are my leggings\nunder your head?\" He looked around, and saw he was in the Sun's lodge, and\nthought he must have wandered around and got lost, and returned\nthere. Again the Sun spoke and said, \"What are you doing with my leggings?\"\n\"Oh,\" replied Old Man, \"I couldn't find anything for a pillow, so I just\nput these under my head.\"\n\nNight came again, and again Old Man stole the leggings and ran off. This\ntime he did not walk at all; he just kept running until pretty near\nmorning, and then lay down and slept. You see what a fool he was. He did\nnot know that the whole world is the Sun's lodge. He did not know that, no\nmatter how far he ran, he could not get out of the Sun's sight. When\nmorning came, he found himself still in the Sun's lodge. But this time the\nSun said: \"Old Man, since you like my leggings so much, I will give them to\nyou. Keep them.\" Then Old Man was very glad and went away.\n\nOne day his food was all gone, so he put on the medicine leggings and set\nfire to a piece of brush. He was just going to kill some deer that were\nrunning out, when he saw that the fire was getting close to him. He ran\naway as fast as he could, but the fire gained on him and began to burn his\nlegs. His leggings were all on fire. He came to a river and jumped in, and\npulled off the leggings as soon as he could. They were burned to pieces.\n\nPerhaps the Sun did this to him because he tried to steal the leggings.\n\n\n\nTHE FOX\n\n\nOne day Old Man went out hunting and took the fox with him. They hunted for\nseveral days, but killed nothing. It was nice warm weather in the late\nfall. After they had become very hungry, as they were going along one day,\nOld Man went up over a ridge and on the other side he saw four big buffalo\nbulls lying down; but there was no way by which they could get near\nthem. He dodged back out of sight and told the fox what he had seen, and\nthey thought for a long time, to see if there was no way by which these\nbulls might be killed.\n\nAt last Old Man said to the fox: \"My little brother, I can think of only\none way to get these bulls. This is my plan, if you agree to it. I will\npluck all the fur off you except one tuft on the end of your tail. Then you\ngo over the hill and walk up and down in sight of the bulls, and you will\nseem so funny to them that they will laugh themselves to death.\"\n\nThe fox did not like to do this, but he could think of nothing better, so\nhe agreed to what Old Man proposed. Old Man plucked him perfectly bare,\nexcept the end of his tail, and the fox went over the ridge and walked up\nand down. When he had come close to the bulls, he played around and walked\non his hind legs and went through all sorts of antics. When the bulls first\nsaw him, they got up on their feet, and looked at him. They did not know\nwhat to make of him. Then they began to laugh, and the more they looked at\nhim, the more they laughed, until at last one by one they fell down\nexhausted and died. Then Old Man came over the hill, and went down to the\nbulls, and began to butcher them. By this time it had grown a little\ncolder.\n\n\"Ah, little brother,\" said Old Man to the fox, \"you did splendidly. I do\nnot wonder that the bulls laughed themselves to death. I nearly died myself\nas I watched you from the hill. You looked very funny.\" While he was saying\nthis, he was working away skinning off the hides and getting the meat ready\nto carry to camp, all the time talking to the fox, who stood about, his\nback humped up and his teeth chattering with the cold. Now a wind sprang up\nfrom the north and a few snowflakes were flying in the air. It was growing\ncolder and colder. Old Man kept on talking, and every now and then he would\nsay something to the fox, who was sitting behind him perfectly still, with\nhis jaw shoved out and his teeth shining.\n\nAt last Old Man had the bulls all skinned and the meat cut up, and as he\nrose up he said: \"It is getting pretty cold, isn't it? Well, we do not care\nfor the cold. We have got all our winter's meat, and we will have nothing\nto do but feast and dance and sing until spring.\" The fox made no\nanswer. Then Old Man got angry, and called out: \"Why don't you answer me?\nDon't you hear me talking to you?\" The fox said nothing. Then Old Man was\nmad, and he said, \"Can't you speak?\" and stepped up to the fox and gave him\na push with his foot, and the fox fell over. He was dead, frozen stiff with\nthe cold.\n\n\n\nOLD MAN AND THE LYNX\n\n\nOld Man was travelling round over the prairie, when he saw a lot of\nprairie-dogs sitting in a circle. They had built a fire, and were sitting\naround it. Old Man went toward them, and when he got near them, he began to\ncry, and said, \"Let me, too, sit by that fire.\" The prairie-dogs said: \"All\nright, Old Man. Don't cry. Come and sit by the fire.\" Old Man sat down,\nand saw that the prairie-dogs were playing a game. They would put one of\ntheir number in the fire and cover him up with the hot ashes; and then,\nafter he had been there a little while, he would say _sk, sk_, and they\nwould push the ashes off him, and pull him out.\n\nOld Man said, \"Teach me how to do that\"; and they told him what to do, and\nput him in the fire, and covered him up with the ashes, and after a little\nwhile he said _sk, sk_, like a prairie-dog, and they pulled him out\nagain. Then he did it to the prairie-dogs. At first he put them in one at a\ntime, but there were many of them, and pretty soon he got tired, and said,\n\"Come, I will put you all in at once.\" They said, \"Very well, Old Man,\" and\nall got in the ashes; but just as Old Man was about to cover them up, one\nof them, a female heavy with young, said, \"Do not cover me up; the heat may\nhurt my children, which are about to be born.\" Old Man said: \"Very well. If\nyou do not want to be covered up, you can sit over by the fire and watch\nthe rest.\" Then he covered up all the others.\n\nAt length the prairie-dogs said _sk, sk_, but Old Man did not sweep the\nashes off and pull them out of the fire. He let them stay there and die. The\nold she one ran off to a hole and, as she went down in it, said _sk,\nsk_. Old Man chased her, but he got to the hole too late to catch her. So\nhe said: \"Oh, well, you can go. There will be more prairie-dogs by and by.\"\n\nWhen the prairie-dogs were roasted, Old Man cut a lot of red willow brush\nto lay them on, and then sat down and began to eat. He ate until he was\nfull, and then felt sleepy. He said to his nose: \"I am going to sleep\nnow. Watch for me and wake me up in case anything comes near.\" Then Old Man\nslept. Pretty soon his nose snored, and he woke up and said, \"What is it?\"\nThe nose said, \"A raven is flying over there.\" Old Man said, \"That is\nnothing,\" and went to sleep again. Soon his nose snored again. Old Man\nsaid, \"What is it now?\" The nose said, \"There is a coyote over there,\ncoming this way.\" Old Man said, \"A coyote is nothing,\" and again went to\nsleep. Presently his nose snored again, but Old Man did not wake up. Again\nit snored, and called out, \"Wake up, a bob-cat is coming.\" Old Man paid no\nattention. He slept on.\n\nThe bob-cat crept up to where the fire was, and ate up all the roast\nprairie-dogs, and then went off and lay down on a flat rock, and went to\nsleep. All this time the nose kept trying to wake Old Man up, and at last\nhe awoke, and the nose said: \"A bob-cat is over there on that flat rock. He\nhas eaten all your food.\" Then Old Man called out loud, he was so angry. He\nwent softly over to where the bob-cat lay, and seized it, before it could\nwake up to bite or scratch him. The bob-cat cried out, \"Hold on, let me\nspeak a word or two.\" But Old Man would not listen; he said, \"I will teach\nyou to steal my food.\" He pulled off the lynx's tail, pounded his head\nagainst the rock so as to make his face flat, pulled him out long, so as to\nmake him small-bellied, and then threw him away into the brush. As he went\nsneaking off, Old Man said, \"There, that is the way you bob-cats shall\nalways be.\" That is the reason the lynxes look so today.\n\nOld Man went back to the fire, and looked at the red willow sticks where\nhis food had been, and it made him mad at his nose. He said, \"You fool, why\ndid you not wake me?\" He took the willow sticks and thrust them in the\ncoals, and when they took fire, he burned his nose. This pained him\ngreatly, and he ran up on a hill and held his nose to the wind, and called\non it to blow hard and cool him. A hard wind came, and it blew him away\ndown to Birch Creek. As he was flying along, he caught at the weeds and\nbrush to try to stop himself, but nothing was strong enough to hold him. At\nlast he seized a birch tree. He held on to this, and it did not give\nway. Although the wind whipped him about, this way and that, and tumbled\nhim up and down, the tree held him. He kept calling to the wind to blow\ngently, and finally it listened to him and went down.\n\nSo he said: \"This is a beautiful tree. It has kept me from being blown away\nand knocked all to pieces. I will ornament it and it shall always be like\nthat.\" So he gashed it across with his stone knife, as you see it to-day.\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE THREE TRIBES\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE PAST AND THE PRESENT\n\n\nFifty years ago the name Blackfoot was one of terrible meaning to the white\ntraveller who passed across that desolate buffalo-trodden waste which lay\nto the north of the Yellowstone River and east of the Rocky Mountains. This\nwas the Blackfoot land, the undisputed home of a people which is said to\nhave numbered in one of its tribes--the Pi-k[)u]n'-i--8000 lodges, or\n40,000 persons. Besides these, there were the Blackfeet and the Bloods,\nthree tribes of one nation, speaking the same language, having the same\ncustoms, and holding the same religious faith.\n\nBut this land had not always been the home of the Blackfeet. Long ago,\nbefore the coming of the white men, they had lived in another country far\nto the north and east, about Lesser Slave Lake, ranging between Peace River\nand the Saskatchewan, and having for their neighbors on the north the\nBeaver Indians. Then the Blackfeet were a timber people. It is said that\nabout two hundred years ago the Chippeweyans from the east invaded this\ncountry and drove them south and west. Whether or no this is true, it is\nquite certain that not many generations back the Blackfeet lived on the\nNorth Saskatchewan River and to the north of that stream.[1] Gradually\nworking their way westward, they at length reached the Rocky Mountains,\nand, finding game abundant, remained there until they obtained horses, in\nthe very earliest years of the present century. When they secured horses and\nguns, they took courage and began to venture out on to the plains and to go\nto war. From this time on, the Blackfeet made constant war on their\nneighbors to the south, and in a few years controlled the whole country\nbetween the Saskatchewan on the north and the Yellowstone on the south.\n\n[Footnote 1: For a more extended account of this migration, see _American\nAnthropologist_, April, 1892, p. 153.]\n\nIt was, indeed, a glorious country which the Blackfeet had wrested from\ntheir southern enemies. Here nature has reared great mountains and spread\nout broad prairies. Along the western border of this region, the Rocky\nMountains lift their snow-clad peaks above the clouds. Here and there, from\nnorth to south, and from east to west, lie minor ranges, black with pine\nforests if seen near at hand, or in the distance mere gray silhouettes\nagainst a sky of blue. Between these mountain ranges lies everywhere the\ngreat prairie; a monotonous waste to the stranger's eye, but not without\nits charm. It is brown and bare; for, except during a few short weeks in\nspring, the sparse bunch-grass is sear and yellow, and the silver gray of\nthe wormwood lends an added dreariness to the landscape. Yet this seemingly\ndesert waste has a beauty of its own. At intervals it is marked with green\nwinding river valleys, and everywhere it is gashed with deep ravines, their\nsides painted in strange colors of red and gray and brown, and their\nperpendicular walls crowned with fantastic columns and figures of stone or\nclay, carved out by the winds and the rains of ages. Here and there, rising\nout of the plain, are curious sharp ridges, or square-topped buttes with\nvertical sides, sometimes bare, and sometimes dotted with pines,--short,\nsturdy trees, whose gnarled trunks and thick, knotted branches have been\ntwisted and wrung into curious forms by the winds which blow unceasingly,\nhour after hour, day after day, and month after month, over mountain range\nand prairie, through gorge and coul\u00e9e.\n\nThese prairies now seem bare of life, but it was not always so. Not very\nlong ago, they were trodden by multitudinous herds of buffalo and antelope;\nthen, along the wooded river valleys and on the pine-clad slopes of the\nmountains, elk, deer, and wild sheep fed in great numbers. They are all\ngone now. The winter's wind still whistles over Montana prairies, but\nnature's shaggy-headed wild cattle no longer feel its biting blasts. Where\nonce the scorching breath of summer stirred only the short stems of the\nbuffalo-grass, it now billows the fields of the white man's\ngrain. Half-hidden by the scanty herbage, a few bleached skeletons alone\nremain to tell us of the buffalo; and the broad, deep trails, over which\nthe dark herds passed by thousands, are now grass-grown and fast\ndisappearing under the effacing hand of time. The buffalo have disappeared,\nand the fate of the buffalo has almost overtaken the Blackfeet.\n\nAs known to the whites, the Blackfeet were true prairie Indians, seldom\nventuring into the mountains, except when they crossed them to war with the\nKutenais, the Flatheads, or the Snakes. They subsisted almost wholly on the\nflesh of the buffalo. They were hardy, untiring, brave, ferocious. Swift\nto move, whether on foot or horseback, they made long journeys to war, and\nwith telling force struck their enemies. They had conquered and driven out\nfrom the territory which they occupied the tribes who once inhabited it,\nand maintained a desultory and successful warfare against all invaders,\nfighting with the Crees on the north, the Assinaboines on the east, the\nCrows on the south, and the Snakes, Kalispels, and Kutenais on the\nsouthwest and west. In those days the Blackfeet were rich and powerful.\nThe buffalo fed and clothed them, and they needed nothing beyond what\nnature supplied. This was their time of success and happiness.\n\nCrowded into a little corner of the great territory which they once\ndominated, and holding this corner by an uncertain tenure, a few Blackfeet\nstill exist, the pitiful remnant of a once mighty people. Huddled together\nabout their agencies, they are facing the problem before them, striving,\nhelplessly but bravely, to accommodate themselves to the new order of\nthings; trying in the face of adverse surroundings to wrench themselves\nloose from their accustomed ways of life; to give up inherited habits and\nform new ones; to break away from all that is natural to them, from all\nthat they have been taught--to reverse their whole mode of existence. They\nare striving to earn their living, as the white man earns his, by toil. The\nstruggle is hard and slow, and in carrying it on they are wasting away and\ngrowing fewer in numbers. But though unused to labor, ignorant of\nagriculture, unacquainted with tools or seeds or soils, knowing nothing of\nthe ways of life in permanent houses or of the laws of health, scantily\nfed, often utterly discouraged by failure, they are still making a noble\nfight for existence.\n\nOnly within a few years--since the buffalo disappeared--has this change\nbeen going on; so recently has it come that the old order and the new meet\nface to face. In the trees along the river valleys, still quietly resting\non their aerial sepulchres, sleep the forms of the ancient hunter-warrior\nwho conquered and held this broad land; while, not far away, Blackfoot\nfarmers now rudely cultivate their little crops, and gather scanty harvests\nfrom narrow fields.\n\nIt is the meeting of the past and the present, of savagery and\ncivilization. The issue cannot be doubtful. Old methods must pass away. The\nBlackfeet will become civilized, but at a terrible cost. To me there is an\ninterest, profound and pathetic, in watching the progress of the struggle.\n\n\n\nDAILY LIFE AND CUSTOMS\n\n\nIndians are usually represented as being a silent, sullen race, seldom\nspeaking, and never laughing nor joking. However true this may be in regard\nto some tribes, it certainly was not the case with most of those who lived\nupon the great Plains. These people were generally talkative, merry, and\nlight-hearted; they delighted in fun, and were a race of jokers. It is true\nthat, in the presence of strangers, they were grave, silent, and reserved,\nbut this is nothing more than the shyness and embarrassment felt by a child\nin the presence of strangers. As the Indian becomes acquainted, this\nreserve wears off; he is at his ease again and appears in his true colors,\na light-hearted child. Certainly the Blackfeet never were a taciturn and\ngloomy people. Before the disappearance of the buffalo, they were happy and\ncheerful. Why should they not have been? Food and clothing were to be had\nfor the killing and tanning. All fur animals were abundant, and thus the\npeople were rich. Meat, really the only food they cared for, was plenty and\ncost nothing. Their robes and furs were exchanged with the traders for\nbright-colored blankets and finery. So they wanted nothing.\n\nIt is but nine years since the buffalo disappeared from the land. Only nine\nyears have passed since these people gave up that wild, free life which was\nnatural to them, and ah! how dear! Let us go back in memory to those happy\ndays and see how they passed the time.\n\nThe sun is just rising. Thin columns of smoke are creeping from the smoke\nholes of the lodges, and ascending in the still morning air. Everywhere the\nwomen are busy, carrying water and wood, and preparing the simple meal.\nAnd now we see the men come out, and start for the river. Some are\nfollowed by their children; some are even carrying those too small to\nwalk. They have reached the water's edge. Off drop their blankets, and with\na plunge and a shivering _ah-h-h_ they dash into the icy waters. Winter and\nsummer, storm or shine, this was their daily custom. They said it made them\ntough and healthy, and enabled them to endure the bitter cold while hunting\non the bare bleak prairie. By the time they have returned to the lodges,\nthe women have prepared the early meal. A dish of boiled meat--some three\nor four pounds--is set before each man; the children are served as much as\nthey can eat, and the wives take the rest. The horses are now seen coming\nin, hundreds and thousands of them, driven by boys and young men who\nstarted out after them at daylight. If buffalo are close at hand, and it\nhas been decided to make a run, each hunter catches his favorite buffalo\nhorse, and they all start out together; they are followed by women, on the\ntravois or pack horses, who will do most of the butchering, and transport\nthe meat and hides to camp. If there is no band of buffalo near by, they go\noff, singly or by twos and threes, to still-hunt scattering buffalo, or\ndeer, or elk, or such other game as may be found. The women remaining in\ncamp are not idle. All day long they tan robes, dry meat, sew moccasins,\nand perform a thousand and one other tasks. The young men who have stayed\nat home carefully comb and braid their hair, paint their faces, and, if the\nweather is pleasant, ride or walk around the camp so that the young women\nmay look at them and see how pretty they are.\n\nFeasting began early in the morning, and will be carried on far into the\nnight. A man who gives a feast has his wives cook the choicest food they\nhave, and when all is ready, he goes outside the lodge and shouts the\ninvitation, calling out each guest's name three times, saying that he is\ninvited to eat, and concludes by announcing that a certain number of\npipes--generally three--will be smoked. The guests having assembled, each\none is served with a dish of food. Be the quantity large or small, it is\nall that he will get. If he does not eat it all, he may carry home what\nremains. The host does not eat with his guests. He cuts up some tobacco,\nand carefully mixes it with _l'herbe_, and when all have finished eating,\nhe fills and lights a pipe, which is smoked and passed from one to another,\nbeginning with the first man on his left. When the last person on the left\nof the host has smoked, the pipe is passed back around the circle to the\none on the right of the door, and smoked to the left again. The guests do\nnot all talk at once. When a person begins to speak, he expects every one\nto listen, and is never interrupted. During the day the topics for\nconversation are about the hunting, war, stories of strange adventures,\nbesides a good deal of good-natured joking and chaffing. When the third and\nlast pipeful of tobacco has been smoked, the host ostentatiously knocks out\nthe ashes and says \"_Kyi\"_ whereupon all the guests rise and file out.\nSeldom a day passed but each lodge-owner in camp gave from one to three\nfeasts. In fact almost all a man did, when in camp, was to go from one of\nthese gatherings to another.\n\nA favorite pastime in the day was gambling with a small wheel called\n_it-se'-wah._ This wheel was about four inches in diameter, and had five\nspokes, on which were strung different-colored beads, made of bone or\nhorn. A level, smooth piece of ground was selected, at each end of which\nwas placed a log. At each end of the course were two men, who gambled\nagainst each other. A crowd always surrounded them, betting on the\nsides. The wheel was rolled along the course, and each man at the end\nwhence it started, darted an arrow at it. The cast was made just before\nthe wheel reached the log at the opposite end of the track, and points were\ncounted according as the arrow passed between the spokes, or when the\nwheel, stopped by the log, was in contact with the arrow, the position and\nnearness of the different beads to the arrow representing a certain number\nof points. The player who first scored ten points won. It was a very\ndifficult game, and one had to be very skilful to win.\n\nAnother popular game was what with more southern tribes is called \"hands\";\nit is like \"Button, button, who's got the button?\" Two small, oblong bones\nwere used, one of which had a black ring around it. Those who participated\nin this game, numbering from two to a dozen, were divided into two equal\nparties, ranged on either side of the lodge. Wagers were made, each person\nbetting with the one directly opposite him. Then a man took the bones, and,\nby skilfully moving his hands and changing the objects from one to the\nother, sought to make it impossible for the person opposite him to decide\nwhich hand held the marked one. Ten points were the game, counted by\nsticks, and the side which first got the number took the stakes. A song\nalways accompanied this game, a weird, unearthly air,--if it can be so\ncalled,--but when heard at a little distance, very pleasant and\nsoothing. At first a scarcely audible murmur, like the gentle soughing of\nan evening breeze, it gradually increased in volume and reached a very high\npitch, sank quickly to a low bass sound, rose and fell, and gradually died\naway, to be again repeated. The person concealing the bones swayed his\nbody, arms, and hands in time to the air, and went through all manner of\ngraceful and intricate movements for the purpose of confusing the\nguesser. The stakes were sometimes very high, two or three horses or more,\nand men have been known to lose everything they possessed, even to their\nclothing.\n\nThe children, at least the boys, played about and did as they pleased. Not\nso with the girls. Their duties began at a very early age. They carried\nwood and water for their mothers, sewed moccasins, and as soon as they were\nstrong enough, were taught to tan robes and furs, make lodges, travois, and\ndo all other woman's--and so menial--work. The boys played at mimic\nwarfare, hunted around in the brush with their bows and arrows, made mud\nimages of animals, and in summer spent about half their time in the\nwater. In winter, they spun tops on the ice, slid down hill on a\ncontrivance made of buffalo ribs, and hunted rabbits.\n\nShortly after noon, the hunters began to return, bringing in deer,\nantelope, buffalo, elk, occasionally bear, and, sometimes, beaver which\nthey had trapped. The camp began to be more lively. In all directions\npersons could be heard shouting out invitations to feasts. Here a man was\nlying back on his couch singing and drumming; there a group of young men\nwere holding a war dance; everywhere the people were eating, singing,\ntalking, and joking. As the light faded from the western sky and darkness\nspread over the camp, the noise and laughter increased. In many lodges, the\npeople held social dances, the women, dressed in their best gowns, ranged\non one side, the men on the other; all sung, and three or four drummers\nfurnished an accompaniment; the music was lively if somewhat jerky. At\nintervals the people rose and danced, the \"step\" being a bending of the\nknees and swinging of the body, the women holding their arms and hands in\nvarious graceful positions.\n\nWith the night came the rehearsal of the wondrous doings of the gods. These\ntales may not be told in the daytime. Old Man would not like that, and\nwould cause any one who narrated them while it was light to become\nblind. All Indians are natural orators, but some far exceed others in their\npowers of expression. Their attitudes, gestures, and signs are so\nsuggestive that they alone would enable one to understand the stories they\nrelate. I have seen these story-tellers so much in earnest, so entirely\ncarried away by the tale they were relating, that they fairly trembled with\nexcitement. They held their little audiences spell-bound. The women\ndropped their half-sewn moccasin from their listless hands, and the men let\nthe pipe go out. These stories for the most part were about the ancient\ngods and their miraculous doings. They were generally related by the old\nmen, warriors who had seen their best days. Many of them are recorded in\nthis book. They are the explanations of the phenomena of life, and contain\nmany a moral for the instruction of youth.\n\nThe _I-k[)u]n-[)u]h'-kah-tsi_ contributed not a little to the entertainment\nof every-day life. Frequent dances were held by the different bands of the\nsociety, and the whole camp always turned out to see them. The animal-head\nmasks, brightly painted bodies, and queer performances were dear to the\nIndian heart.\n\nSuch was the every-day life of the Blackfeet in the buffalo days. When the\ncamp moved, the women packed up their possessions, tore down the lodges,\nand loaded everything on the backs of the ponies or on the\ntravois. Meantime the chiefs had started on, and the soldiers--the Brave\nband of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_--followed after them. After these leaders\nhad gone a short distance, a halt was made to allow the column to close\nup. The women, children, horses, and dogs of the camp marched in a\ndisorderly, straggling fashion, often strung out in a line a mile or two\nlong. Many of the men rode at a considerable distance ahead, and on each\nside of the marching column, hunting for any game that might be found, or\nlooking over the country for signs of enemies.\n\nBefore the Blackfeet obtained horses in the very first years of the present\ncentury, and when their only beasts of burden were dogs, their possessions\nwere transported by these animals or on men's backs. We may imagine that\nin those days the journeys made were short ones, the camp travelling but a\nfew miles.\n\nIn moving the camp in ancient days, the heaviest and bulkiest things to be\ntransported were the lodges. These were sometimes very large, often\nconsisting of thirty cow-skins, and, when set up, containing two or three\nfires like this [Illustration:] or in ground plan like this\n[Illustration:]. The skins of these large lodges were sewn together in\nstrips, of which there would be sometimes as many as four; and, when the\nlodge was set up, these strips were pinned together as the front of a\ncommon lodge is pinned to-day. The dogs carried the provisions, tools, and\nutensils, sometimes the lodge strips, if these were small enough, or\nanything that was heavy, and yet could be packed in small compass; for\nsince dogs are small animals, and low standing, they cannot carry bulky\nburdens. Still, some of the dogs were large enough to carry a load of one\nhundred pounds. Dogs also hauled the travois, on which were bundles and\nsometimes babies. This was not always a safe means of transportation for\ninfants, as is indicated by an incident related by John Monroe's mother as\nhaving occurred in her father's time. The camp, on foot of course, was\ncrossing a strip of open prairie lying between two pieces of timber, when a\nherd of buffalo, stampeding, rushed through the marching column. The\nloaded dogs rushed after the buffalo, dragging the travois after them and\nscattering their loads over the prairie. Among the lost chattels were two\nbabies, dropped off somewhere in the long grass, which were never found.\n\nThere were certain special customs and beliefs which were a part of the\nevery-day life of the people.\n\nIn passing the pipe when smoking, it goes from the host, who takes the\nfirst smoke, to the left, passing from hand to hand to the door. It may not\nbe passed across the door to the man on the other side, but must come\nback,--no one smoking,--pass the host, and go round to the man across the\ndoor from the last smoker. This man smokes and passes it to the one on his\nleft, and so it goes on until it reaches the host again. A person entering\na lodge where people are smoking must not pass in front of them, that is,\nbetween the smokers and the fire.\n\nA solemn form of affirmation, the equivalent of the civilized oath, is\nconnected with smoking, which, as is well known, is with many tribes of\nIndians a sacred ceremony. If a man sitting in a lodge tells his companions\nsome very improbable story, something that they find it very hard to\nbelieve, and they want to test him, to see if he is really telling the\ntruth, the pipe is given to a medicine man, who paints the stem red and\nprays over it, asking that if the man's story is true he may have long\nlife, but if it is false his life may end in a short time. The pipe is then\nfilled and lighted, and passed to the man, who has seen and overheard what\nhas been done and said. The medicine man says to him: \"Accept this pipe,\nbut remember that, if you smoke, your story must be as sure as that there\nis a hole through this pipe, and as straight as the hole through this\nstem. So your life shall be long and you shall survive, but if you have\nspoken falsely your days are counted.\" The man may refuse the pipe, saying,\n\"I have told you the truth; it is useless to smoke this pipe.\" If he\ndeclines to smoke, no one believes what he has said; he is looked upon as\nhaving lied. If, however, he takes the pipe and smokes, every one believes\nhim. It is the most solemn form of oath. The Blackfoot pipes are usually\nmade of black or green slate or sandstone.\n\nThe Blackfeet do not whip their children, but still they are not without\nsome training. Children must be taught, or they will not know anything; if\nthey do not know anything, they will have no sense; and if they have no\nsense they will not know how to act. They are instructed in manners, as\nwell as in other more general and more important matters.\n\nIf a number of boys were in a lodge where older people were sitting, very\nlikely the young people would be talking and laughing about their own\nconcerns, and making so much noise that the elders could say nothing. If\nthis continued too long, one of the older men would be likely to get up and\ngo out and get a long stick and bring it in with him. When he had seated\nhimself, he would hold it up, so that the children could see it and would\nrepeat a cautionary formula, \"I will give you gum!\" This was a warning to\nthem to make less noise, and was always heeded--for a time. After a little,\nhowever, the boys might forget and begin to chatter again, and presently\nthe man, without further warning, would reach over and rap one of them on\nthe head with the stick, when quiet would again be had for a time.\n\nIn the same way, in winter, when the lodge was full of old and young\npeople, and through lack of attention the fire died down, some older person\nwould call out, \"Look out for the skunk!\" which would be a warning to the\nboys to put some sticks on the fire. If this was not done at once, the man\nwho had called out might throw a stick of wood across the lodge into the\ngroup of children, hitting and hurting one or more of them. It was taught\nalso that, if, when young and old were in the lodge and the fire had burned\nlow, an older person were to lay the unburned ends of the sticks upon the\nfire, all the children in the lodge would have the scab, or itch. So, at\nthe call \"Look out for the scab!\" some child would always jump to the fire,\nand lay up the sticks.\n\nThere were various ways of teaching and training the children. Men would\nmake long speeches to groups of boys, playing in the camps, telling them\nwhat they ought to do to be successful in life. They would point out to\nthem that to accomplish anything they must be brave and untiring in war;\nthat long life was not desirable; that the old people always had a hard\ntime, were given the worst side of the lodge and generally neglected; that\nwhen the camp was moved they suffered from cold; that their sight was dim,\nso that they could not see far; that their teeth were gone, so that they\ncould not chew their food. Only discomfort and misery await the old. Much\nbetter, while the body is strong and in its prime, while the sight is\nclear, the teeth sound, and the hair still black and long, to die in battle\nfighting bravely. The example of successful warriors would be held up to\nthem, and the boys urged to emulate their brave deeds. To such advice some\nboys would listen, while others would not heed it.\n\nThe girls also were instructed. All Indians like to see women more or less\nsober and serious-minded, not giggling all the time, not silly. A Blackfoot\nman who had two or three girls would, as they grew large, often talk to\nthem and give them good advice. After watching them, and taking the measure\nof their characters, he would one day get a buffalo's front foot and\nornament it fantastically with feathers. When the time came, he would call\none of his daughters to him and say to her: \"Now I wish you to stand here\nin front of me and look me straight in the eye without laughing. No matter\nwhat I may do, do not laugh.\" Then he would sing a funny song, shaking the\nfoot in the girl's face in time to the song, and looking her steadily in\nthe eye. Very likely before he had finished, she would begin to giggle. If\nshe did this, the father would stop singing and tell her to finish\nlaughing; and when she was serious again, he would again warn her not to\nlaugh, and then would repeat his song. This time perhaps she would not\nlaugh while he was singing. He would go through with this same performance\nbefore all his daughters. To such as seemed to have the steadiest\ncharacters, he would give good advice. He would talk to each girl of the\nduties of a woman's life and warn her against the dangers which she might\nexpect to meet.\n\nAt the time of the Medicine Lodge, he would take her to the lodge and point\nout to her the Medicine Lodge woman. He would say: \"There is a good\nwoman. She has built this Medicine Lodge, and is greatly honored and\nrespected by all the people. Once she was a girl just like you; and you, if\nyou are good and live a pure life, may some day be as great as she is\nnow. Remember this, and try to live a worthy life.\"\n\nAt the time of the Medicine Lodge, the boys in the camp also gathered to\nsee the young men count their _coups_. A man would get up, holding in one\nhand a bundle of small sticks, and, taking one stick from the bundle, he\nwould recount some brave deed, throwing away a stick as he completed the\nnarrative of each _coup_, until the sticks were all gone, when he sat down,\nand another man stood up to begin his recital. As the boys saw and heard\nall this, and saw how respected those men were who had done the most and\nbravest things, they said to themselves, \"That man was once a boy like us,\nand we, if we have strong hearts, may do as much as he has done.\" So even\nthe very small boys used often to steal off from the camp, and follow war\nparties. Often they went without the knowledge of their parents, and poorly\nprovided, without food or extra moccasins. They would get to the enemy's\ncamp, watch the ways of the young men, and so learn about going to war, how\nto act when on the war trail so as to be successful. Also they came to know\nthe country.\n\nThe Blackfeet men often went off by themselves to fast and dream for\npower. By no means every one did this, and, of those who attempted it, only\na few endured to the end,--that is, fasted the whole four days,--and\nobtained the help sought. The attempt was not usually made by young boys\nbefore they had gone on their first war journey. It was often undertaken by\nmen who were quite mature. Those who underwent this suffering were obliged\nto abstain from food or drink for four days and four nights, resting for\ntwo nights on the right side, and for two nights on the left. It was deemed\nessential that the place to which a man resorted for this purpose should be\nunfrequented, where few or no persons had walked; and it must also be a\nplace that tried the nerve, where there was some danger. Such situations\nwere mountain peaks; or narrow ledges on cut cliffs, where a careless\nmovement might cause a man to fall to his death on the rocks below; or\nislands in lakes, which could only be reached by means of a raft, and where\nthere was danger that a person might be seized and carried off by the\n_S[=u]'-y[=e] t[)u]p'-pi_, or Under Water People; or places where the dead\nhad been buried, and where there was much danger from ghosts. Or a man\nmight lie in a well-worn buffalo trail, where the animals were frequently\npassing, and so he might be trodden on by a travelling band of buffalo; or\nhe might choose a locality where bears were abundant and dangerous.\nWherever he went, the man built himself a little lodge of brush, moss, and\nleaves, to keep off the rain; and, after making his prayers to the sun and\nsinging his sacred songs, he crept into the hut and began his fast. He was\nnot allowed to take any covering with him, nor to roof over his shelter\nwith skins. He always had with him a pipe, and this lay by him, filled, so\nthat, when the spirit, or dream, came, it could smoke. They did not appeal\nto any special class of helpers, but prayed to all alike. Often by the end\nof the fourth day, a secret helper--usually, but by no means always, in the\nform of some animal--appeared to the man in a dream, and talked with him,\nadvising him, marking out his course through life, and giving him its\npower. There were some, however, on whom the power would not work, and a\nmuch greater number who gave up the fast, discouraged, before the\nprescribed time had been completed, either not being able to endure the\nlack of food and water, or being frightened by the strangeness or\nloneliness of their surroundings, or by something that they thought they\nsaw or heard. It was no disgrace to fail, nor was the failure necessarily\nknown, for the seeker after power did not always, nor perhaps often, tell\nany one what he was going to do.\n\nThree modes of burial were practised by the Blackfeet. They buried their\ndead on platforms placed in trees, on platforms in lodges, and on the\nground in lodges. If a man dies in a lodge, it is never used again. The\npeople would be afraid of the man's ghost. The lodge is often used to wrap\nthe body in, or perhaps the man may be buried in it.\n\nAs soon as a person is dead, be it man, woman, or child, the body is\nimmediately prepared for burial, by the nearest female relations. Until\nrecently, the corpse was wrapped in a number of robes, then in a lodge\ncovering, laced with rawhide ropes, and placed on a platform of lodge\npoles, arranged on the branches of some convenient tree. Some times the\nouter wrapping--the lodge covering--was omitted. If the deceased was a man,\nhis weapons, and often his medicine, were buried with him. With women a few\ncooking utensils and implements for tanning robes were placed on the\nscaffolds. When a man was buried on a platform in a lodge, the platform was\nusually suspended from the lodge poles.\n\nSometimes, when a great chief or noted warrior died, his lodge would be\nmoved some little distance from the camp, and set up in a patch of\nbrush. It would be carefully pegged down all around, and stones piled on\nthe edges to make it additionally firm. For still greater security, a rope\nfastened to the lodge poles, where they come together at the smoke hole,\ncame down, and was securely tied to a peg in the ground in the centre of\nthe lodge, where the fireplace would ordinarily be. Then the beds were made\nup all around the lodge, and on one of them was placed the corpse, lying as\nif asleep. The man's weapons, pipe, war clothing, and medicine were placed\nnear him, and the door then closed. No one ever again entered such a\nlodge. Outside the lodge, a number of his horses, often twenty or more,\nwere killed, so that he might have plenty to ride on his journey to the Sand\nHills, and to use after arriving there. If a man had a favorite horse, he\nmight order it to be killed at his grave, and his order was always carried\nout. In ancient times, it is said, dogs were killed at the grave.\n\nWomen mourn for deceased relations by cutting their hair short. For the\nloss of a husband or son (but not a daughter), they not only cut their\nhair, but often take off one or more joints of their fingers, and always\nscarify the calves of their legs. Besides this, for a month or so, they\ndaily repair to some place near camp, generally a hill or little rise of\nground, and there cry and lament, calling the name of the deceased over and\nover again. This may be called a chant or song, for there is a certain tune\nto it. It is in a minor key and very doleful. Any one hearing it for the\nfirst time, even though wholly unacquainted with Indian customs, would at\nonce know that it was a mourning song, or at least was the utterance of one\nin deep distress. There is no fixed period for the length of time one must\nmourn. Some keep up this daily lament for a few weeks only, and others much\nlonger. I once came across an old wrinkled woman, who was crouched in the\nsage brush, crying and lamenting for some one, as if her heart would\nbreak. On inquiring if any one had lately died, I was told she was mourning\nfor a son she had lost more than twenty years before.\n\nMen mourn by cutting a little of their hair, going without leggings, and\nfor the loss of a son, sometimes scarify their legs. This last, however, is\nnever done for the loss of a wife, daughter, or any relative except a son.\n\nMany Blackfeet change their names every season. Whenever a Blackfoot counts\na new _coup_, he is entitled to a new name. A Blackfoot will never tell his\nname if he can avoid it. He believes that if he should speak his name, he\nwould be unfortunate in all his undertakings. It was considered a gross\nbreach of propriety for a man to meet his mother-in-law, and if by any\nmischance he did so, or what was worse, if he spoke to her, she demanded a\nvery heavy payment, which he was obliged to make. The mother-in-law was\nequally anxious to avoid meeting or speaking to her son-in-law.\n\n\n\nHOW THE BLACKFOOT LIVED\n\n\nThe primitive clothing of the Blackfeet was made of the dressed skins of\ncertain animals. Women seldom wore a head covering. Men, however, in winter\ngenerally used a cap made of the skin of some small animal, such as the\nantelope, wolf, badger, or coyote. As the skin from the head of these\nanimals often formed part of the cap, the ears being left on, it made a\nvery odd-looking head-dress. Sometimes a cap was made of the skin of some\nlarge bird, such as the sage-hen, duck, owl, or swan.\n\nThe ancient dress of the women was a shirt of cowskin, with long sleeves\ntied at the wrist, a skirt reaching half-way from knees to ankles, and\nleggings tied above the knees, with sometimes a supporting string running\nfrom the belt to the leggings. In more modern times, this was modified, and\na woman's dress consisted of a gown or smock, reaching from the neck to\nbelow the knees. There were no sleeves, the armholes being provided with\ntop coverings, a sort of cape or flap, which reached to the\nelbows. Leggings were of course still worn. They reached to the knee, and\nwere generally made, as was the gown, of the tanned skins of elk, deer,\nsheep, or antelope. Moccasins for winter use were made of buffalo robe, and\nof tanned buffalo cowskin for summer wear. The latter were always made with\nparfleche soles, which greatly increased their durability, and were often\nornamented over the instep or toes with a three-pronged figure, worked in\nporcupine quills or beads, the three prongs representing, it is said, the\nthree divisions or tribes of the nation. The men wore a shirt, breech-clout,\nleggings which reached to the thighs, and moccasins. In winter both men and\nwomen wore a robe of tanned buffalo skin, and sometimes of beaver. In\nsummer a lighter robe was worn, made of cowskin or buckskin, from which the\nhair had been removed. Both sexes wore belts, which supported and confined\nthe clothing, and to which were attached knife-sheaths and other useful\narticles.\n\nNecklaces and ear-rings were worn by all, and were made of shells, bone,\nwood, and the teeth and claws of animals. Elk tushes were highly prized,\nand were used for ornamenting women's dresses. A gown profusely decorated\nwith them was worth two good horses. Eagle feathers were used by the men to\nmake head-dresses and to ornament shields and also weapons. Small bunches\nof owl or grouse feathers were sometimes tied to the scalp locks. It is\ndoubtful if the women ever took particular care of their hair. The men,\nhowever, spent a great deal of time brushing, braiding, and ornamenting\ntheir scalp locks. Their hair was usually worn in two braids, one on each\nside of the head. Less frequently, four braids were made, one behind and in\nfront of each ear. Sometimes, the hair of the forehead was cut off square,\nand brushed straight up; and not infrequently it was made into a huge\ntopknot and wound with otter fur. Often a slender lock, wound with brass\nwire or braided, hung down from one side of the forehead over the face.\n\nAs a rule, the men are tall, straight, and well formed. Their features are\nregular, the eyes being large and well set, and the nose generally\nmoderately large, straight, and thin. Their chests are splendidly\ndeveloped. The women are quite tall for their sex, but, as a rule, not so\ngood-looking as the men. Their hands are large, coarse, and knotted by hard\nlabor; and they early become wrinkled and careworn. They generally have\nsplendid constitutions. I have known them to resume work a day after\nchildbirth; and once, when travelling, I knew a woman to halt, give birth to\na child, and catch up with the camp inside of four hours.\n\nAs a rule, children are hardy and vigorous. They are allowed to do about as\nthey please from the time they are able to walk. I have often seen them\nplaying in winter in the snow, and spinning tops on the ice, barefooted and\nhalf-naked. Under such conditions, those which have feeble constitutions\nsoon die. Only the hardiest reach maturity and old age.\n\nIt is said that very long ago the people made houses of mud, sticks, and\nstones. It is not known what was their size or shape, and no traces of them\nare known to have been found. For a very long time, the lodge seems to have\nbeen their only dwelling. In ancient times, before they had knives of\nmetal, stones were used to hold down the edges of the lodge, to keep it\nfrom being blown away. These varied in size from six inches to a foot or\nmore in diameter. Everywhere on the prairie, one may now see circles of\nthese stones, and, within these circles, the smaller ones, which surrounded\nthe fireplace. Some of them have lain so long that only the tops now\nproject above the turf, and undoubtedly many of them are buried out of\nsight.\n\nLodges were always made of tanned cowskin, nicely cut and sewn together, so\nas to form an almost perfect cone. At the top were two large flaps, called\nears, which were kept extended or closed, according to the direction and\nstrength of the wind, to create a draft and keep the lodge free from\nsmoke. The lodge covering was supported by light, straight pine or spruce\npoles, about eighteen of which were required. Twelve cowskins made a lodge\nabout fourteen feet in diameter at the base, and ten feet high. I have\nheard of a modern one which contained forty skins. It was over thirty feet\nin diameter, and was so heavy that the skins were sewn in two pieces which\nbuttoned together.\n\nAn average-sized dwelling of this kind contained eighteen skins and was\nabout sixteen feet in diameter. The lower edge of the lodge proper was\nfastened, by wooden pegs, to within an inch or two of the ground. Inside, a\nlining, made of brightly painted cowskin, reached from the ground to a\nheight of five or six feet. An air space of the thickness of the lodge\npoles--two or three inches--was thus left between the lining and the lodge\ncovering, and the cold air, rushing up through it from the outside, made a\ndraft, which aided the ears in freeing the lodge of smoke. The door was\nthree or four feet high and was covered by a flap of skin, which hung down\non the outside. Thus made, with plenty of buffalo robes for seats and\nbedding, and a good stock of firewood, a lodge was very comfortable, even\nin the coldest weather.\n\nIt was not uncommon to decorate the outside of the lodge with buffalo tails\nand brightly painted pictures of animals. Inside, the space around was\npartitioned off into couches, or seats, each about six feet in length. At\nthe foot and head of every couch, a mat, made of straight, peeled willow\ntwigs, fastened side by side, was suspended on a tripod at an angle of\nforty-five degrees, so that between the couches spaces were left like an\ninverted V, making convenient places to store articles which were not in\nuse. The owner of the lodge always occupied the seat or couch at the back\nof the lodge, directly opposite the door-way, the places on his right being\noccupied by his wives and daughters; though sometimes a Blackfoot had so\nmany wives that they occupied the whole lodge. The places on his left were\nreserved for his sons and visitors. When a visitor entered a lodge, he was\nassigned a seat according to his rank,--the nearer to the host, the greater\nthe honor.\n\nBows were generally made of ash wood, which grows east of the mountains\ntoward the Sand Hills. When for any reason they could not obtain ash, they\nused the wood of the choke-cherry tree, but this had not strength nor\nspring enough to be of much service. I have been told also that sometimes\nthey used hazle wood for bows.\n\nArrows were made of shoots of the sarvis berry wood, which was straight,\nvery heavy, and not brittle. They were smoothed and straightened by a stone\nimplement. The grooves were made by pushing the shafts through a rib or\nother flat bone in which had been made a hole, circular except for one or\ntwo projections on the inside. These projections worked out the groove. The\nobject of these grooves is said to have been to allow the blood to flow\nfreely. Each man marked his arrows by painting them, or by some special\ncombination of colored feathers. The arrow heads were of two kinds,--barbed\nslender points for war, and barbless for hunting. Knives were originally\nmade of stone, as were also war clubs, mauls, and some of the scrapers for\nfleshing and graining hides. Some of the flint knives were long, others\nshort. A stick was fitted to them, forming a wooden handle. The handles of\nmauls and war clubs were usually made of green sticks fitted as closely as\npossible into a groove made in the stone, the whole being bound together by\na covering of hide put on green, tightly fitted and strongly sewed. This,\nas it shrunk in drying, bound the different parts of the implement together\nin the strongest possible manner. Short, heavy spears were used, the points\nbeing of stone or bone, barbed.\n\nI have heard no explanation among the Blackfeet of the origin of fire. In\nancient times, it was obtained by means of fire sticks, as described\nelsewhere. The starting of the spark with these sticks is said to have been\nhard work. At almost their first meeting with the whites, they obtained\nflints and steels, and learned how to use them.\n\nIn ancient times,--in the days of fire sticks and even later, within the\nmemory of men now living,--fire used to be carried from place to place in a\n\"fire horn.\" This was a buffalo horn slung by a string over the shoulder\nlike a powderhorn. The horn was lined with moist, rotten wood, and the open\nend had a wooden stopper or plug fitted to it. On leaving camp in the\nmorning, the man who carried the horn took from the fire a small live coal\nand put it in the horn, and on this coal placed a piece of punk, and then\nplugged up the horn with the stopper. The punk smouldered in this almost\nair-tight chamber, and, in the course of two or three hours, the man looked\nat it, and if it was nearly consumed, put another piece of punk in the\nhorn. The first young men who reached the appointed camping ground would\ngather two or three large piles of wood in different places, and as soon as\nsome one who carried a fire horn reached camp, he turned out his spark at\none of these piles of wood, and a little blowing and nursing gave a blaze\nwhich started the fire. The other fires were kindled from this first one,\nand when the women reached camp and had put the lodges up, they went to\nthese fires, and got coals with which to start those in their lodges. This\ncustom of borrowing coals persisted up to the last days of the buffalo, and\nindeed may even be noticed still.\n\nThe punk here mentioned is a fungus, which grows on the birch tree. The\nIndians used to gather this in large quantities and dry it. It was very\nabundant at the Touchwood Hills (whence the name) on Beaver Creek, a\ntributary of the Saskatchewan from the south.\n\nThe Blackfeet made buckets, cups, basins, and dishes from the lining of the\nbuffalo's paunch. This was torn off in large pieces, and was stretched over\na flattened willow or cherry hoop at the bottom and top. These hoops were\nsometimes inside and sometimes outside the bucket or dish. In the latter\ncase, the hoop at the bottom was often sewed to the paunch, which came down\nover it, double on the outside, the needle holes being pitched with gum or\ntallow. The hoop at the upper edge was also sewed to the paunch, and a\nrawhide bail passed under it, to carry it by. These buckets were shaped\nsomewhat like our wooden ones, and were of different sizes, some of them\nholding four or five gallons. They were more or less flexible, and when\ncarried in a pack, they could be flattened down like a crush hat, and so\ntook up but little room. If set on the ground when full, they would stand\nup for a while, but as they soon softened and fell down, they were usually\nhung up by the bail on a little tripod. Cups were made in the same way as\nbuckets, but on a smaller scale and without the bail. Of course, nothing\nhot could be placed in these vessels.\n\nIt is doubtful if the Blackfeet ever made any pottery or basket ware. They,\nhowever, made bowls and kettles of stone. There is an ancient children's\nsong which consists of a series of questions asked an elk, and its replies\nto the same. In one place, the questioner sings, \"Elk, what is your bowl\n(or dish)?\" and the elk answers, \"_Ok-wi-tok-so-ka_,\" stone bowl. On this\npoint, Wolf Calf, a very old man, states that in early days the Blackfeet\nsometimes boiled their meat in a stone bowl made out of a hard clayey\nrock.[1] Choosing a fragment of the right size and shape, they would pound\nit with another heavier rock, dealing light blows until a hollow had been\nmade in the top. This hollow was made deeper by pounding and grinding; and\nwhen it was deep enough, they put water in it, and set it on the fire, and\nthe water would boil. These pots were strong and would last a long time. I\ndo not remember that any other tribe of Plains Indians made such stone\nbowls or mortars, though, of course, they were commonly made, and in\nsingular perfection, by the Pacific Coast tribes; and I have known of rare\ncases in which basalt mortars and small soapstone ollas have been found on\nthe central plateau of the continent in southern Wyoming. These articles,\nhowever, had no doubt been obtained by trade from Western tribes.\n\n[Footnote 1: See The Blackfoot Genesis, p. 141.]\n\nServiceable ladles and spoons were made of wood and of buffalo and mountain\nsheep horn. Basins or flat dishes were sometimes made of mountain sheep\nhorn, boiled, split, and flattened, and also of split buffalo horn, fitted\nand sewn together with sinew, making a flaring, saucer-shaped dish. These\nwere used as plates or eating dishes. Of course, they leaked a little, for\nthe joints were not tight. Wooden bowls and dishes were made from knots and\nprotuberances of trees, dug out and smoothed by fire and the knife or by\nthe latter alone.\n\nIt is not known that these people ever made spears, hooks, or other\nimplements for capturing fish. They appear never to have used boats of any\nkind, not even \"bull boats.\" Their highest idea of navigation was to lash\ntogether a few sticks or logs, on which to transport their possessions\nacross a river.\n\nRed, brown, yellow, and white paints were made by burning clays of these\ncolors, which were then pulverized and mixed with a little grease. Black\npaint was made of charred wood.\n\nBags and sacks were made of parfleche, usually ornamented with buckskin\nfringe, and painted with various designs in bright colors. Figures having\nsharp angles are most common.\n\nThe diet of the Blackfeet was more varied than one would think. Large\nquantities of sarvis berries (_Amelanchier alnifolia_) were gathered\nwhenever there was a crop (which occurs every other year), dried, and\nstored for future use. These were gathered by women, who collected the\nbranches laden with ripe fruit, and beat them over a robe spread upon the\nground. Choke-cherries were also gathered when ripe, and pounded up, stones\nand all. A bushel of the fruit, after being pounded up and dried, was\nreduced to a very small quantity. This food was sometimes eaten by itself,\nbut more often was used to flavor soups and to mix with pemmican. Bull\nberries (_Shepherdia argentea_) were a favorite fruit, and were gathered in\nlarge quantities, as was also the white berry of the red willow. This last\nis an exceedingly bitter, acrid fruit, and to the taste of most white men\nwholly unpleasant and repugnant. The Blackfeet, however, are very fond of\nit; perhaps because it contains some property necessary to the nourishment\nof the body, which is lacking in their every-day food.\n\nThe camas root, which grows abundantly in certain localities on the east\nslope of the Rockies, was also dug, cooked, and dried. The bulbs were\nroasted in pits, as by the Indians on the west side of the Rocky Mountains,\nthe Kalispels, and others. It is gathered while in the bloom--June 15 to\nJuly 15. A large pit is dug in which a hot fire is built, the bottom being\nfirst lined with flat stones. After keeping up this fire for several hours,\nuntil the stones and earth are thoroughly heated, the coals and ashes are\nremoved. The pit is then lined with grass, and is filled almost to the top\nwith camas bulbs. Over these, grass is laid, then twigs, and then earth to\na depth of four inches. On this a fire is built, which is kept up for from\none to three days, according to the quantity of the bulbs in the pit.\n\nWhen the pit is opened, the small children gather about it to suck the\nsyrup, which has collected on the twigs and grass, and which is very\nsweet. The fresh-roasted camas tastes something like a roasted chestnut,\nwith a little of the flavor of the sweet potato. After being cooked, the\nroots are spread out in the sun to dry, and are then put in sacks to be\nstored away. Sometimes a few are pounded up with sarvis berries, and dried.\n\nBitter-root is gathered, dried, and boiled with a little sugar. It is a\nslender root, an inch or two long and as thick as a goose quill, white in\ncolor, and looking like short lengths of spaghetti. It is very starchy.\n\nIn the spring, a certain root called _mats_ was eaten in great\nquantities. This plant was known to the early French employees of the\nHudson's Bay and American Fur Companies as _pomme blanche (Psoralea\nesculenta)_.\n\nAll parts of such animals as the buffalo, elk, deer, etc., were eaten, save\nonly the lungs, gall, and one or two other organs. A favorite way of eating\nthe paunch or stomach was in the raw state. Liver, too, was sometimes eaten\nraw. The unborn calf of a fresh-killed animal, especially buffalo, was\nconsidered a great delicacy. The meat of this, when boiled, is white,\ntasteless, and insipid. The small intestines of the buffalo were sometimes\ndried, but more often were stuffed with long, thin strips of meat. During\nthe stuffing process, the entrail was turned inside out, thus confining\nwith the meat the sweet white fat that covers the intestine. The next step\nwas to roast it a little, after which the ends were tied to prevent the\nescape of the juices, and it was thoroughly boiled in water. This is a very\ngreat delicacy, and when properly prepared is equally appreciated by whites\nand Indians.\n\nAs a rule, there were but two ways of cooking meat,--boiling and\nroasting. If roasted, it was thoroughly cooked; but if boiled, it was only\nleft in the water long enough to lose the red color, say five or ten\nminutes. Before they got kettles from the whites, the Blackfeet often\nboiled meat in a green hide. A hole was dug in the ground, and the skin,\nflesh side up, was laid in it, being supported about the edges of the hole\nby pegs. The meat and water having been placed in this hollow, red-hot\nstones were dropped in the water until it became hot and the meat was\ncooked.\n\nIn time of plenty, great quantities of dried meat were prepared for use\nwhen fresh meat could not be obtained. In making dried meat, the thicker\nparts of an animal were cut in large, thin sheets and hung in the sun to\ndry. If the weather was not fine, the meat was often hung up on lines or\nscaffolds in the upper part of the lodge. When properly cured and if of\ngood quality, the sheets were about one-fourth of an inch thick and very\nbrittle. The back fat of the buffalo was also dried, and eaten with the\nmeat as we eat butter with bread. Pemmican was made of the flesh of the\nbuffalo. The meat was dried in the usual way; and, for this use, only lean\nmeat, such as the hams, loin, and shoulders, was chosen. When the time came\nfor making the pemmican, two large fires were built of dry quaking aspen\nwood, and these were allowed to burn down to red coals. The old women\nbrought the dried meat to these fires, and the sheets of meat were thrown\non the coals of one of them, allowed to heat through, turned to keep them\nfrom burning, and then thrown on the flesh side of a dry hide, that lay on\nthe ground near by. After a time, the roasting of this dried meat caused a\nsmoke to rise from the fire in use, which gave the meat a bitter taste, if\ncooked in it. They then turned to the other fire, and used that until the\nfirst one had burned clear again. After enough of the roasted meat had been\nthrown on the hide, it was flailed out with sticks, and being very brittle\nwas easily broken up, and made small. It was constantly stirred and pounded\nuntil it was all fine. Meantime, the tallow of the buffalo had been melted\nin a large kettle, and the pemmican bags prepared. These were made of\nbull's hide, and were in two pieces, cut oblong, and with the corners\nrounded off. Two such pieces sewed together made a bag which would hold one\nhundred pounds. The pounded meat and tallow--the latter just beginning to\ncool--were put in a trough made of bull's hide, a wooden spade being used\nto stir the mixture. After it was thoroughly mixed, it was shovelled into\none of the sacks, held open, and rammed down and packed tight with a big\nstick, every effort being made to expel all the air. When the bag was full\nand packed as tight as possible, it was sewn up. It was then put on the\nground, and the women jumped on it to make it still more tight and\nsolid. It was then laid away in the sun to cool and dry. It usually took\nthe meat of two cows to make a bag of one hundred pounds; a very large bull\nmight make a sack of from eighty to one hundred pounds.\n\nA much finer grade of pemmican was made from the choicest parts of the\nbuffalo with marrow fat. To this dried berries and pounded choke-cherries\nwere added, making a delicious food, which was extremely\nnutritious. Pemmican was eaten either dry as it came from the sack, or\nstewed with water.\n\nIn the spring, the people had great feasts of the eggs of ducks and other\nwater-fowl. A large quantity having been gathered, a hole was dug in the\nground, and a little water put in it. At short intervals above the water,\nplatforms of sticks were built, on which the eggs were laid. A smaller hole\nwas dug at one side of the large hole, slanting into the bottom of it. When\nall was ready, the top of the larger hole was covered with mud, laid upon\ncross sticks, and red-hot stones were dropped into the slant, when they\nrolled down into the water, heating it, and so cooking the eggs by steam.\n\nFish were seldom eaten by these people in early days, but now they seem\nvery fond of them. Turtles, frogs, and lizards are considered creatures of\nevil, and are never eaten. Dogs, considered a great delicacy by the Crees,\nGros Ventres, Sioux, Assinaboines, and other surrounding tribes, were never\neaten by the Blackfeet. No religious motive is assigned for this\nabstinence. I once heard a Piegan say that it was wrong to eat dogs. \"They\nare our true friends,\" he said. \"Men say they are our friends and then turn\nagainst us, but our dogs are always true. They mourn when we are absent,\nand are always glad when we return. They keep watch for us in the night\nwhen we sleep. So pity the poor dogs.\"\n\nSnakes, grasshoppers, worms, and other insects were never eaten. Salt was\nan unknown condiment. Many are now very fond of it, but I know a number,\nespecially old people, who never eat it.\n\n\n\nSOCIAL ORGANIZATION\n\n\nThe social organization of the Blackfeet is very simple. The three tribes\nacknowledged a blood relationship with each other, and, while distinct,\nstill considered themselves a nation. In this confederation, it was\nunderstood that there should be no war against each other. However, between\n1860 and 1870, when the whiskey trade was in its height, the three tribes\nwere several times at swords' points on account of drunken brawls. Once,\nabout sixty or seventy years ago, the Bloods and Piegans had a quarrel so\nserious that men were killed on both sides and horses stolen; yet this was\nhardly a real war, for only a part of each tribe was involved, and the\ntrouble was not of long duration.\n\nEach one of the Blackfoot tribes is subdivided into gentes, a gens being a\nbody of consanguineal kindred in the male line. It is noteworthy that the\nBlackfeet, although Algonquins, have this system of subdivision, and it may\nbe that among them the gentes are of comparatively recent date. No special\nduties are assigned to any one gens, nor has any gens, so far as I know,\nany special \"medicine\" or \"totem.\"\n\nBelow is a list of the gentes of each tribe.\n\n\n                  BLACKFEET _(Sik'-si-kau)_\n\nGentes:\n\n_Puh-ksi-nah'-mah-yiks_          Flat Bows.\n\n_Mo-tah'-tos-iks_                Many Medicines.\n\n_Siks-in'-o-kaks_                Black Elks.\n\n_E'-mi-tah-pahk-sai-yiks_        Dogs Naked.\n\n_Sa'-yiks_                       Liars.\n\n_Ai-sik'-stuk-iks_ Biters.\n\n_Tsin-ik-tsis'-tso-yiks_ Early Finished Eating.\n\n_Ap'-i-kai-yiks_ Skunks.\n\n\nBLOODS (_Kai'-nah_)\n\n_Siksin'-o-kaks_ Black Elks.\n\n_Ah-kwo'-nis-tsists_ Many Lodge Poles.\n\n_Ap-ut'-o-si'kai-nah_ North Bloods.\n\n_Is-ts'-kai-nah_ Woods Bloods.\n\n_In-uhk!-so-yi-stam-iks_ Long Tail Lodge Poles.\n\n_Nit'-ik-skiks_ Lone Fighters.\n\n_Siks-ah'-pun-iks_ Blackblood.\n\n_Ah-kaik'-sum-iks_\n\n_I-sis'-o-kas-im-iks_ Hair Shirts.\n\n_Ak-kai'-po-kaks_ Many Children.\n\n_Sak-si-nah'-mah-yiks_ Short Bows.\n\n_Ap'-i-kai-yiks_ Skunks.\n\n_Ahk-o'-tash-iks_ Many Horses.\n\n\nPIEGANS _(Pi-kun'-i)_\n\n_Ah'-pai-tup-iks_ Blood People.\n\n_Ah-kai-yi-ko-ka'-kin-iks_ White Breasts.\n\n_Ki'yis_ Dried Meat.\n\n_Sik-ut'-si-pum-aiks_ Black Patched Moccasins.\n\n_Sik-o-pok'-si-maiks_ Blackfat Roasters.\n\n_Tsin-ik-sis'-tso-yiks_ Early Finished Eating.\n\n_Kut'-ai-im-iks_ They Don't Laugh.\n\n_I'-pok-si-maiks_ Fat Roasters.\n\n_Sik'-o-kit-sim-iks_ Black Doors.\n\n_Ni-taw'-yiks_ Lone Eaters.\n\n_Ap'-i-kai-yiks_ Skunks.\n\n_Mi-ah-wah'-pit-siks_ Seldom Lonesome.\n\n_Nit'-ak-os-kit-si-pup-iks_ Obstinate.\n\n_Nit'-ik-skiks_ Lone Fighters.\n\n_I-nuks'-iks_ Small Robes.\n\n_Mi-aw'-kin-ai-yiks_ Big Topknots.\n\n_Esk'-sin-ai-tup-iks_ Worm People.\n\n_I-nuk-si'-kah-ko-pwa-iks_ Small Brittle Fat.\n\n_Kah'-mi-taiks_ Buffalo Dung.\n\n_Kut-ai-sot'-si-man_ No Parfleche.\n\n_Ni-tot'-si-ksis-stan-iks_             Kill Close By.\n\n_Mo-twai'-naiks_                       All Chiefs.\n\n_Mo-kum'-iks_                          Red Round Robes.\n\n_Mo-tah'-tos-iks_                      Many Medicines.\n\n\nIt will be readily seen from the translations of the above that each gens\ntakes its name from some peculiarity or habit it is supposed to possess. It\nwill also be noticed that each tribe has a few gentes common to one or both\nof the other tribes. This is caused by persons leaving their own tribe to\nlive with another one, but, instead of uniting with some gens of the\nadopted tribe, they have preserved the name of their ancestral gens for\nthemselves and their descendants.\n\nThe Blackfoot terms of relationship will be found interesting. The\nprincipal family names are as follows:--\n\n\nMy father                                    _Ni'-nah._\n\nMy mother                                    _Ni-kis'-ta._\n\nMy elder brother                             _Nis'-ah_\n\nMy younger brother                           _Nis-kun'._\n\nMy older sister                              _Nin'-sta._\n\nMy younger sister                            _Ni-sis'-ah._\n\nMy uncle                                     _Nis'-ah._\n\nMy aunt                                      _Ni-kis'-ta._\n\nMy cousin, male                              Same as brother.\n\nMy cousin, female                            Same as sister.\n\nMy grandfather                               _Na-ahks'._\n\nMy grandmother                               _Na-ahks'._\n\nMy father-in-law                             _Na-ahks'._\n\nMy mother-in-law                             _Na-ahks'._\n\nMy son                                       _No-ko'-i._\n\nMy daughter                                  _Ni-tun'._\n\nMy son-in-law                                _Nis'-ah._\n\nMy daughter-in-law                           _Ni-tot'-o-ke-man._\n\nMy brother-in-law older than self            _Nis-tum-o'._\n\nMy brother-in-law younger than self          _Nis-tum-o'-kun._\n\nMy sister-in-law                             _Ni-tot'-o-ke-man._\n\nMy second cousin                             _Nimp'-sa._\n\nMy wife                                      _Nit-o-ke'-man._\n\nMy husband                                   _No'-ma._\n\n\nAs the members of a gens were all considered as relatives, however remote,\nthere was a law prohibiting a man from marrying within his gens. Originally\nthis law was strictly enforced, but like many of the ancient customs it is\nno longer observed. Lately, within the last forty or fifty years, it has\nbecome not uncommon for a man and his family, or even two or three\nfamilies, on account of some quarrel or some personal dislike of the chief\nof their own gens, to leave it and join another band. Thus the gentes often\nreceived outsiders, who were not related by blood to the gens; and such\npeople or their descendants could marry within the gens. Ancestry became no\nlonger necessary to membership.\n\nAs a rule, before a young man could marry, he was required to have made\nsome successful expeditions to war against the enemy, thereby proving\nhimself a brave man, and at the same time acquiring a number of horses and\nother property, which would enable him to buy the woman of his choice, and\nafterwards to support her.\n\nMarriages usually took place at the instance of the parents, though often\nthose of the young man were prompted by him. Sometimes the father of the\ngirl, if he desired to have a particular man for a son-in-law, would\npropose to the father of the latter for the young man as a husband for his\ndaughter.\n\nThe marriage in the old days was arranged after this wise: The chief of one\nof the bands may have a marriageable daughter, and he may know of a young\nman, the son of a chief of another band, who is a brave warrior, of good\ncharacter, sober-minded, steadfast, and trustworthy, who he thinks will\nmake a good husband for his daughter and a good son-in-law. After he has\nmade up his mind about this, he is very likely to call in a few of his\nclose relations, the principal men among them, and state to them his\nconclusions, so as to get their opinions about it. If nothing is said to\nchange his mind, he sends to the father of the boy a messenger to state his\nown views, and ask how the father feels about the matter.\n\nOn receiving this word, the boy's father probably calls together his close\nrelations, discusses the matter with them, and, if the match is\nsatisfactory to him, sends back word to that effect. When this message is\nreceived, the relations of the girl proceed to fit her out with the very\nbest that they can provide. If she is the daughter of well-to-do or wealthy\npeople, she already has many of the things that are needed, but what she\nmay lack is soon supplied. Her mother makes her a new cowskin lodge,\ncomplete, with new lodge poles, lining, and back rests. A chiefs daughter\nwould already have plenty of good clothing, but if the girl lacks anything,\nit is furnished. Her dress is made of antelope skin, white as snow, and\nperhaps ornamented with two or three hundred elk tushes. Her leggings are\nof deer skin, heavily beaded and nicely fringed, and often adorned with\nbells and brass buttons. Her summer blanket or sheet is an elk skin, well\ntanned, without the hair and with the dew-claws left on. Her moccasins are\nof deer skin, with parfleche soles and worked with porcupine quills. The\nmarriage takes place as soon as these things can be provided.\n\nDuring the days which intervene between the proposal and the marriage, the\nyoung woman each day selects the choicest parts of the meat brought to the\nlodge,--the tongue, \"boss ribs,\" some choice berry pemmican or what\nnot,--cooks these things in the best style, and, either alone, or in\ncompany with a young sister, or a young friend, goes over to the lodge\nwhere the young man lives, and places the food before him. He eats some of\nit, little or much, and if he leaves anything, the girl offers it to his\nmother, who may eat of it. Then the girl takes the dishes and returns to\nher father's lodge. In this way she provides him with three meals a day,\nmorning, noon, and night, until the marriage takes place. Every one in camp\nwho sees the girl carrying the food in a covered dish to the young man's\nlodge, knows that a marriage is to take place; and the girl is watched by\nidle persons as she passes to and fro, so that the task is quite a trying\none for people as shy and bashful as Indians are. When the time for the\nmarriage has come,--in other words, when the girl's parents are ready,--the\ngirl, her mother assisting her, packs the new lodge and her own things on\nthe horses, and moves out into the middle of the circle--about which all\nthe lodges of the tribe are arranged--and there the new lodge is unpacked\nand set up. In front of the lodge are tied, let us say, fifteen horses, the\ngirl's dowry given by her father. Very likely, too, the father has sent\nover to the young man his own war clothing and arms, a lance, a fine\nshield, a bow and arrows in otter-skin case, his war bonnet, war shirt, and\nwar leggings ornamented with scalps,--his complete equipment. This is set\nup on a tripod in front of the lodge. The gift of these things is an\nevidence of the great respect felt by the girl's father for his\nson-in-law. As soon as the young man has seen the preparations being made\nfor setting up the girl's lodge in the centre of the circle, he sends over\nto his father-in-law's lodge just twice the number of horses that the girl\nbrought with her,--in this supposed case, thirty.\n\nAs soon as this lodge is set up, and the girl's mother has taken her\ndeparture and gone back to her own lodge, the young man, who, until he saw\nthese preparations, had no knowledge of when the marriage was to take\nplace, leaves his father's lodge, and, going over to the newly erected one,\nenters and takes his place at the back of it. Probably during the day he\nwill order his wife to take down the lodge, and either move away from the\ncamp, or at least move into the circle of lodges; for he will not want to\nremain with his young wife in the most conspicuous place in the camp.\nOften, on the same day, he will send for six or eight of his friends, and,\nafter feasting them, will announce his intention of going to war, and will\nstart off the same night. If he does so, and is successful, returning with\nhorses or scalps, or both, he at once, on arrival at the camp, proceeds to\nhis father-in-law's lodge and leaves there everything he has brought back,\nreturning to his own lodge on foot, as poor as he left it.\n\nWe have supposed the proposal in this case to come from the father of the\ngirl, but if a boy desires a particular girl for his wife, the proposal\nwill come from his father; otherwise matters are managed in the same way.\n\nThis ceremony of moving into the middle of the circle was only performed in\nthe case of important people. The custom was observed in what might be\ncalled a fashionable wedding among the Blackfeet. Poorer, less important\npeople married more quietly. If the girl had reached marriageable age\nwithout having been asked for as a wife, she might tell her mother that she\nwould like to marry a certain young man, that he was a man she could love\nand respect. The mother communicates this to the father of the girl, who\ninvites the young man to the lodge to a feast, and proposes the match. The\nyoung man returns no answer at the time, but, going back to his father's\nlodge, tells him of the offer, and expresses his feelings about it. If he\nis inclined to accept, the relations are summoned, and the matter talked\nover. A favorable answer being returned, a certain number of horses--what\nthe young man or his father, or both together, can spare--are sent over to\nthe girl's father. They send as many as they can, for the more they send,\nthe more they are thought of and looked up to. The girl, unless her parents\nare very poor, has her outfit, a saddle horse and pack horse with saddle\nand pack saddle, parfleches, etc. If the people are very poor, she may\nhave only a riding horse. Her relations get together, and do all in their\npower to give her a good fitting out, and the father, if he can possibly do\nso, is sure to pay them back what they have given. If he cannot do so, the\nthings are still presented; for, in the case of a marriage, the relations\non both sides are anxious to do all that they can to give the young people\na good start in life. When all is ready, the girl goes to the lodge where\nher husband lives, and goes in. If this lodge is too crowded to receive the\ncouple, the young man will make arrangements for space in the lodge of a\nbrother, cousin, or uncle, where there is more room. These are all his\nclose relations, and he is welcome in any of their lodges, and has rights\nthere.\n\nSometimes, if two young people are fond of each other, and there is no\nprospect of their being married, they may take riding horses and a pack\nhorse, and elope at night, going to some other camp for a while. This makes\nthe girl's father angry, for he feels that he has been defrauded of his\npayments. The young man knows that his father-in-law bears him a grudge,\nand if he afterwards goes to war and is successful, returning with six or\nseven horses, he will send them all to the camp where his father-in-law\nlives, to be tied in front of his lodge. This at once heals the breach, and\nthe couple may return. Even if he has not been successful in war and\nbrought horses, which of course he does not always accomplish, he from time\nto time sends the old man a present, the best he can. Notwithstanding these\nefforts at conciliation, the parents feel very bitterly against him. The\ngirl has been stolen. The union is no marriage at all. The old people are\nashamed and disgraced for their daughter. Until the father has been\npacified by satisfactory payments, there is no marriage. Moreover, unless\nthe young man had made a payment, or at least had endeavored to do so, he\nwould be little thought of among his fellows, and looked down on as a poor\ncreature without any sense of honor.\n\nThe Blackfeet take as many wives as they wish; but these ceremonies are\nonly carried out in the case of the first wife, the \"sits-beside-him\"\nwoman. In the case of subsequent marriages, if the man had proved a good,\nkind husband to his first wife, other men, who thought a good deal of their\ndaughters, might propose to give them to him, so that they would be well\ntreated. The man sent over the horses to the new father-in-law's lodge, and\nthe girl returned to his, bringing her things with her. Or if the man saw a\ngirl he liked, he would propose for her to her father.\n\nAmong the Blackfeet, there was apparently no form of courtship, such as\nprevails among our southern Indians. Young men seldom spoke to young girls\nwho were not relations, and the girls were carefully guarded. They never\nwent out of the lodge after dark, and never went out during the day, except\nwith the mother or some other old woman. The girl, therefore, had very\nlittle choice in the selection of a husband. If a girl was told she must\nmarry a certain man, she had to obey. She might cry, but her father's will\nwas law, and she might be beaten or even killed by him, if she did not do\nas she was ordered. As a consequence of this severity, suicide was quite\ncommon among the Blackfoot girls. A girl ordered to marry a man whom she\ndid not like would often watch her chance, and go out in the brush and hang\nherself. The girl who could not marry the man she wanted to was likely to\ndo the same thing.\n\nThe man had absolute power over his wife. Her life was in his hands, and if\nhe had made a payment for her, he could do with her about as he pleased. On\nthe whole, however, women who behaved themselves were well treated and\nreceived a good deal of consideration. Those who were light-headed, or\nfoolish, or obstinate and stubborn were sometimes badly beaten. Those who\nwere unfaithful to their husbands usually had their noses or ears, or both,\ncut off for the first offence, and were killed either by the husband or\nsome relation, or by the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_ for the second. Many of the\ndoctors of the highest reputation in the tribe were women. It is a common\nbelief among some of those who have investigated the subject that the wife\nin Indian marriage was actually purchased, and became the absolute property\nof her husband. Though I have a great respect for some of the opinions\nwhich have been expressed on this subject, I am obliged to take an entirely\ndifferent view of the matter. I have talked this subject over many times\nwith young men and old men of a number of tribes, and I cannot learn from\nthem, or in any other way, that in primitive times the woman was purchased\nfrom her father. The husband did not have property rights in his wife. She\nwas not a chattel that he could trade away. He had all personal rights,\ncould beat his wife, or, for cause, kill her, but he could not sell her to\nanother man.\n\nAll the younger sisters of a man's wife were regarded as his potential\nwives. If he was not disposed to marry them, they could not be disposed of\nto any other man without his consent.\n\nNot infrequently, a man having a marriageable daughter formally gave her to\nsome young man who had proved himself brave in war, successful in taking\nhorses, and, above all, of a generous disposition. This was most often done\nby men who had no sons to support them in their old age.\n\nIt is said that in the old days, before they had horses, young men did not\nexpect to marry until they had almost reached middle life,--from\nthirty-five to forty years of age. This statement is made by Wolf Calf,\nwho is now very old, almost one hundred years, he believes, and can\nremember back nearly or quite to the time when the Blackfeet obtained their\nfirst horses. In those days, young women did not marry until they were\ngrown up, while of late years fathers not infrequently sell their daughters\nas wives when they are only children.\n\nThe first woman a man marries is called his sits-beside-him wife. She is\ninvested with authority over all the other wives, and does little except to\ndirect the others in their work, and look after the comfort of her\nhusband. Her place in the lodge is on his right-hand side, while the others\nhave their places or seats near the door-way. This wife is even allowed at\ninformal gatherings to take a whiff at the pipe, as it is passed around the\ncircle, and to participate in the conversation.\n\nIn the old days, it was a very poor man who did not have three wives. Many\nhad six, eight, and some more than a dozen. I have heard of one who had\nsixteen. In those times, provided a man had a good-sized band of horses,\nthe more wives he had, the richer he was. He could always find young men to\nhunt for him, if he furnished the mounts, and, of course, the more wives he\nhad, the more robes and furs they would tan for him.\n\nIf, for any cause, a man wished to divorce himself from a woman, he had but\nto send her back to her parents and demand the price paid for her, and the\nmatter was accomplished. The woman was then free to marry again, provided\nher parents were willing.\n\nWhen a man dies, his wives become the potential wives of his oldest\nbrother. Unless, during his life, he has given them outright horses and\nother property, at his death they are entitled to none of his\npossessions. If he has sons, the property is divided among them, except a\nfew horses, which are given to his brothers. If he has no sons, all the\nproperty goes to his brothers, and if there are no brothers, it goes to the\nnearest male relatives on the father's side.\n\nThe Blackfeet cannot be said to have been slave-holders. It is true that\nthe Crees call the Blackfeet women \"Little Slaves.\" But this, as elsewhere\nsuggested, may refer to the region whence they originally came, though it\nis often explained that it is on account of the manner in which the\nBlackfeet treat their women, killing them or mutilating their features for\nadultery and other serious offences. Although a woman, all her life, was\nsubject to some one's orders, either parent, relative, or husband, a man\nfrom his earliest childhood was free and independent. His father would not\npunish him for any misconduct, his mother dared not. At an early age he was\ntaught to ride and shoot, and horses were given to him. By the time he was\ntwelve, he had probably been on a war expedition or two. As a rule in\nlater times, young men married when they were seventeen or eighteen years\nof age; and often they resided for several years with their fathers, until\nthe family became so large that there was not room for them all in the\nlodge.\n\nThere were always in the camp a number of boys, orphans, who became the\nservants of wealthy men for a consideration; that is, they looked after\ntheir patron's horses and hunted, and in return they were provided with\nsuitable food and clothing.\n\nAmong the Blackfeet, all men were free and equal, and office was not\nhereditary. Formerly each gens was governed by a chief, who was entitled to\nhis office by virtue of his bravery and generosity. The head chief was\nchosen by the chiefs of the gentes from their own number, and was usually\nthe one who could show the best record in war, as proved at the Medicine\nLodge,[1] at which time he was elected; and for the ensuing year he was\ninvested with the supreme power. But no matter how brave a man might have\nbeen, or how successful in war, he could not hope to be the chief either of\na gens or of the tribe, unless he was kind-hearted, and willing to share\nhis prosperity with the poor. For this reason, a chief was never a wealthy\nman, for what he acquired with one hand he gave away with the other. It was\nhe who decided when the people should move camp, and where they should\ngo. But in this, as in all other important affairs, he generally asked the\nadvice of the minor chiefs.\n\n[Footnote 1: See chapter on Religion.]\n\nThe _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_ (All Comrades) were directly under the authority of\nthe head chief, and when any one was to be punished, or anything else was\nto be done which came within their province as the tribal police, it was he\nwho issued the orders. The following were the crimes which the Blackfeet\nconsidered sufficiently serious to merit punishment, and the penalties\nwhich attached to them.\n\nMurder: A life for a life, or a heavy payment by the murderer or his\nrelatives at the option of the murdered man's relatives. This payment was\noften so heavy as absolutely to strip the murderer of all property.\n\nTheft: Simply the restoration of the property.\n\nAdultery: For the first offence the husband generally cut off the offending\nwife's nose or ears; for the second offence she was killed by the All\nComrades. Often the woman, if her husband complained of her, would be\nkilled by her brothers or first cousins, and this was more usual than death\nat the hands of the All Comrades. However, the husband could have her put\nto death for the first offence, if he chose.\n\nTreachery (that is, when a member of the tribe went over to the enemy or\ngave them any aid whatever): Death at sight.\n\nCowardice: A man who would not fight was obliged to wear woman's dress, and\nwas not allowed to marry.\n\nIf a man left camp to hunt buffalo by himself, thereby driving away the\ngame, the All Comrades were sent after him, and not only brought him back\nby main force, but often whipped him, tore his lodge to shreds, broke his\ntravois, and often took away his store of dried meat, pemmican, and other\nfood.\n\nThe tradition of the origin of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_ has elsewhere been\ngiven. This association of the All Comrades consisted of a dozen or more\nsecret societies, graded according to age, the whole constituting an\nassociation which was in part benevolent and helpful, and in part military,\nbut whose main function was to punish offences against society at large. All\nthese societies were really law and order associations. The\nM[)u]t'-s[)i]ks, or Braves, was the chief society, but the others helped\nthe Braves.\n\nA number of the societies which made up the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_ have been\nabandoned in recent years, but several of them still exist. Among the\nPi-kun'-i, the list--so far as I have it--is as follows, the societies\nbeing named in order from those of boyhood to old age:--\n\nSOCIETIES OF THE ALL COMRADES\n\n_Ts[)i]-st[=i]ks'_,         Little Birds,      includes boys from\n                                               15 to 20 years old.\n\n_K[)u]k-k[=u][=i]cks'_,     Pigeons,           men who have been to war\n                                               several times.\n\n_T[)u]is-k[)i]s-t[=i]ks_,   Mosquitoes,        men who are constantly\n                                               going to war\n\n_M[)u]t'-s[)i]ks_,          Braves,            tried warriors.\n\n_Kn[)a]ts-o-mi'-ta_,        All Crazy Dogs,    about forty years old.\n\n_Ma-stoh'-pa-ta-k[=i]ks_    Raven Bearers.\n\n_E'-mi-taks_,               Dogs,              old men.\n                                               Dogs and Tails are\n                                               different societies,\n_Is'-sui_,                  Tails,             but they dress alike\n                                               and dance together\n                                               and alike.\n\n_[)E]ts-[=a]i'-nah_,        Horns, Bloods,     obsolete among the\n                                               Piegans,\n_Sin'-o-pah_,             Kit-foxes, Piegans,  but still exists\n                                               with Bloods.\n\n_[)E]-[)i]n'-a-ke_,     Catchers or Soldiers,  obsolete for 25-30 years,\n                                               perhaps longer.\n\n_St[)u]'m[=i]ks_,           Bulls,             obsolete for 50 years.\n\n\nThere may be other societies of the All Comrades, but these are the only\nones that I know of at present. The M[=u]t'-s[)i]ks, Braves, and the\nKnats-o-mi'-ta, All Crazy Dogs, still exist, but many of the others are\nbeing forgotten. Since the necessity for their existence has passed, they\nare no longer kept up. They were a part of the old wild life, and when the\nbuffalo disappeared, and the Blackfeet came to live about an agency, and to\ntry to work for a subsistence, the societies soon lost their importance.\nThe societies known as Little Birds, Mosquitoes, and Doves are not really\nbands of the All Comrades, but are societies among the boys and young men\nin imitation of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_, but of comparatively recent\norigin. Men not more than fifty years old can remember when these societies\ncame into existence. Of all the societies of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi,_ the\nSin'-o-pah, or Kit-fox band, has the strongest medicine. This corresponds\nto the Horns society among the Bloods. They are the same band with\ndifferent names. They have certain peculiar secret and sacred ceremonies,\nnot to be described here.\n\nThe society of the Stum'-[=i]ks, or Bulls, became obsolete more than fifty\nyears ago. Their dress was very fine,--bulls' heads and robes.\n\nThe members of the younger society purchased individually, from the next\nolder one, its rights and privileges, paying horses for them. For example,\neach member of the Mosquitoes would purchase from some member of the Braves\nhis right of membership in the latter society. The man who has sold his\nrights is then a member of no society, and if he wishes to belong to one,\nmust buy into the one next higher. Each of these societies kept some old\nmen as members, and these old men acted as messengers, orators, and so on.\n\nThe change of membership from one society to another was made in the\nspring, after the grass had started. Two, three, or more lodge coverings\nwere stretched over poles, making one very large lodge, and in this the\nceremonies accompanying the changes took place.\n\nIn later times, the Braves were the most important and best known of any of\nthe All Comrades societies. The members of this band were soldiers or\npolice. They were the constables of the camp, and it was their duty to\npreserve order, and to punish offenders. Sometimes young men would skylark\nin camp at night, making a great noise when people wanted to sleep, and\nwould play rough practical jokes, that were not at all relished by those\nwho suffered from them. One of the forms which their high spirits took was\nto lead and push a young colt up to the door of a lodge, after people were\nasleep, and then, lifting the door, to shove the animal inside and close\nthe door again. Of course the colt, in its efforts to get out to its\nmother, would run round and round the lodge, trampling over the sleepers\nand roughly awakening them, knocking things down and creating the utmost\nconfusion, while the mare would be whinnying outside the lodge, and the\npeople within, bewildered and confused, did not know what the disturbance\nwas all about.\n\nThe Braves would punish the young men who did such things,--if they could\ncatch them,--tearing up their blankets, taking away their property, and\nsometimes whipping them severely. They were the peace officers of the camp,\nlike the _lari p[=u]k'[=u]s_ among the Pawnees.\n\nAmong the property of the Brave society were two stone-pointed arrows, one\n\"shield you don't sit down with,\" and one rattle. The man who carried this\nrattle was known as Brave Dog, and if it passed from one member of the\nsociety to another, the new owner became known as Brave Dog. The man who\nreceived the shield could not sit down for the next four days and four\nnights, but for all that time was obliged to run about the camp, or over\nthe prairie, whistling like a rabbit.\n\nThe societies known as Soldiers and Bulls had passed out of existence\nbefore the time of men now of middle age. The pipe of the Soldier society\nis still in existence, in the hands of Double Runner. The bull's head war\nbonnet, which was the insignia of the Bulls society, was formerly in the\npossession of Young Bear Chief, at present chief of the Don't Laugh band of\nthe Piegans. He gave it to White Calf, who presented it to a recent agent.\n\nIn the old days, and, indeed, down to the time of the disappearance of the\nbuffalo, the camp was always arranged in the form of a circle, the lodges\nstanding at intervals around the circumference, and in the wide inner space\nthere was another circle of lodges occupied by the chief of certain bands\nof the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_. When all the gentes of the tribe were present,\neach had its special position in the circle, and always occupied it. The\nlodge of the chief of the gens stood just within the circle, and about it\nhis people camped. The order indicated in the accompanying diagram\nrepresents the Piegan camp as it used to stand thirty-five or forty years\nago. A number of the gentes are now extinct, and it is not altogether\ncertain just what the position of those should be; for while all the older\nmen agree on the position to be assigned to certain of the gentes, there\nare others about which there are differences of opinion or much\nuncertainty. It is stated that the gentes known as Seldom Lonesome, Dried\nMeat, and No Parfleche belong to that section of the tribe known as North\nPiegans, which, at the time of the first treaty, separated from the\nPi-kun'-i, and elected to live under British rule.\n\nThe lodges of the chiefs of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_ which were within the\ncircle served as lounging and eating places for such members of the bands\nas were on duty, and were council lodges or places for idling, as the\noccasion demanded.\n\nWhen the camp moved, the Blood gens moved first and was followed by the\nWhite Breast gens, and so on around the circle to number 24. On camping,\nthe Bloods camped first, and the others after them in the order indicated,\nnumber 24 camping last and closing up the circle. DIAGRAM OF OLD-TIME\nPIEGAN CAMP, SAY 1850 TO 1855. TWENTY-FOUR LODGES OF CHIEFS OF THE GENTES\nABOUT THE OUTER CIRCLE.\n\nThe inner circle shows lodges of chiefs of certain bands of the\n_I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi._\n\n[Illustration]\n\nGENTES OF THE PI-KUN'-I\n\n 1. Blood People.\n 2. White Breasts.\n 3. Dried Meat.\n 4. Black Patched Moccasins.\n 5. Black Fat Roasters.\n 6. Early Finished Eating.\n 7. Don't Laugh.\n 8. Fat Roasters.\n 9. Black Doors.\n10. Lone Eaters.\n11. Skunks.\n12. Seldom Lonesome.\n13. Obstinate.\n14. Lone Fighters.\n15. Small Robes.\n16. Big Topknots.\n17. Worm People.\n18. Small Brittle Fat.\n19. Buffalo Dung.\n20. No Parfleche.\n21. Kill Close Bye\n22. All Chiefs.\n23. Red Round Robes.\n24. Many Medicines.\n\n\nBANDS OF THE I-KUN-UH'-KAH-TSI\n\na. All Crazy Dogs.\nb. Dogs.\nc. Tails.\nd. Kit-foxes.\ne. Raven Bearers.\nf. Braves.\ng. Mosquitoes.\nh. Soldiers.\ni. Doves.\n\n\n\nHUNTING\n\n\nThe Blackfoot country probably contained more game and in greater variety\nthan any other part of the continent. Theirs was a land whose physical\ncharacteristics presented sharp contrasts. There were far-stretching grassy\nprairies, affording rich pasturage for the buffalo and the antelope; rough\nbreaks and bad lands for the climbing mountain sheep; wooded buttes, loved\nby the mule deer; timbered river bottoms, where the white-tailed deer and\nthe elk could browse and hide; narrow, swampy valleys for the moose; and\nsnow-patched, glittering pinnacles of rock, over which the sure-footed\nwhite goat took his deliberate way. The climate varied from arid to humid;\nthe game of the prairie, the timber, and the rocks, found places suited to\ntheir habits. Fur-bearing animals abounded. Noisy hordes of wild fowl\npassed north and south in their migrations, and many stopped here to breed.\n\nThe Blackfoot country is especially favored by the warm chinook winds,\nwhich insure mild winters with but little snow; and although on the plains\nthere is usually little rain in summer, the short prairie grasses are sweet\nand rich. All over this vast domain, the buffalo were found in countless\nherds. Elk, deer, antelope, mountain sheep, and bear without number were\nthere. In those days, sheep were to be found on every ridge, and along the\nrough bad lands far from the mountains. Now, except a few in the \"breaks\"\nof the Missouri, they occur only on the highest and most inaccessible\nmountains, along with the white goats, which, although pre-eminently\nmountain animals, were in early days sometimes found far out on the\nprairie.\n\n\n\nBUFFALO\n\nThe Blackfeet were a race of meat-eaters, and, while they killed large\nquantities of other game, they still depended for subsistence on the\nbuffalo. This animal provided them with almost all that they needed in the\nway of food, clothing, and shelter, and when they had an abundance of the\nbuffalo they lived in comfort.\n\nAlmost every part of the beast was utilized. The skin, dressed with the\nhair on, protected them from the winter's cold; freed from the hair, it was\nused for a summer sheet or blanket, for moccasins, leggings, shirts, and\nwomen's dresses. The tanned cowskins made their lodges, the warmest and\nmost comfortable portable shelters ever devised. From the rawhide, the hair\nhaving been shaved off, were made parfleches, or trunks, in which to pack\nsmall articles. The tough, thick hide of the bull's neck, spread out and\nallowed to shrink smooth, made a shield for war which would stop an arrow,\nand turn a lance thrust or the ball from an old-fashioned, smooth-bore\ngun. The green hide served as a kettle, in which to boil meat. The skin of\nthe hind leg, cut off above the pastern and again some distance above the\nhock, was sometimes used as a moccasin or boot, the lower opening being\nsewed up for the toe. A variety of small articles, such as cradles, gun\ncovers, whips, mittens, quivers, bow cases, knife-sheaths, etc., were made\nfrom the hide. Braided strands of hide furnished them with ropes and\nlines. The hair was used to stuff cushions and, later, saddles, and parts\nof the long black flowing beard to ornament wearing apparel and implements\nof war, such as shields and quivers. The horns gave them spoons and\nladles--sometimes used as small dishes--and ornamented their war\nbonnets. From the hoofs they made a glue, which they used in fastening the\nheads and feathers on their arrows, and the sinew backs on their bows. The\nsinews which lie along the back and on the belly were used as thread and\nstring, and as backing for bows to give them elasticity and strength. From\nthe ribs were made scrapers used in dressing hides, and runners for small\nsledges drawn by dogs; and they were employed by the children in coasting\ndown hill on snow or ice. The shoulder-blades, lashed to a wooden handle,\nformed axes, hoes, and fleshers. From the cannon bones (metatarsals and\nmetacarpals) were made scrapers for dressing hides. The skin of the tail,\nfitted on a stick, was used as a fly brush. These are but a few of the uses\nto which the product of the buffalo was put. As has been said, almost every\npart of the flesh was eaten.\n\nNow it must be remembered that in early days the hunting weapons of this\npeople consisted only of stone-pointed arrows, and with such armament the\ncapture of game of the larger sorts must have been a matter of some\nuncertainty. To drive a rude stone-headed arrow through the tough hide and\ninto the vitals of the buffalo, could not have been--even under the most\nfavorable circumstances--other than a difficult matter; and although we may\nassume that, in those days, it was easy to steal up to within a few yards\nof the unsuspicious animals, we can readily conceive that many arrows must\nhave been shot without effect, for one that brought down the game.\n\nCertain ingenious methods were therefore devised to insure the taking of\ngame in large numbers at one time. This was especially the case with the\nbuffalo, which were the food and raiment of the people. One of these\ncontrivances was called pis'kun, deep-kettle; or, since the termination of\nthe word seems to indicate the last syllable of the word _ah'-pun,_ blood,\nit is more likely deep-blood-kettle. This was a large corral, or enclosure,\nbuilt out from the foot of a perpendicular cliff or bluff, and formed of\nnatural banks, rocks, and logs or brush,--anything in fact to make a close,\nhigh barrier. In some places the enclosure might be only a fence of brush,\nbut even here the buffalo did not break it down, for they did not push\nagainst it, but ran round and round within, looking for a clear space\nthrough which they might pass. From the top of the bluff, directly over\nthe pis'kun, two long lines of rock piles and brush extended far out on the\nprairie, ever diverging from each other like the arms of the letter V, the\nopening over the pis'kun being at the angle.\n\nIn the evening of the day preceding a drive of buffalo into the pis'kun a\nmedicine man, usually one who was the possessor of a buffalo rock,\nIn-is'-kim, unrolled his pipe, and prayed to the Sun for success. Next\nmorning the man who was to call the buffalo arose very early, and told his\nwives that they must not leave the lodge, nor even look out, until he\nreturned; that they should keep burning sweet grass, and should pray to the\nSun for his success and safety. Without eating or drinking, he then went up\non the prairie, and the people followed him, and concealed themselves\nbehind the rocks and bushes which formed the V, or chute. The medicine man\nput on a head-dress made of the head of a buffalo, and a robe, and then\nstarted out to approach the animals. When he had come near to the herd, he\nmoved about until he had attracted the attention of some of the buffalo,\nand when they began to look at him, he walked slowly away toward the\nentrance of the chute. Usually the buffalo followed, and, as they did so,\nhe gradually increased his pace. The buffalo followed more rapidly, and the\nman continually went a little faster. Finally, when the buffalo were fairly\nwithin the chute, the people began to rise up from behind the rock piles\nwhich the herd had passed, and to shout and wave their robes. This\nfrightened the hinder-most buffalo, which pushed forward on the others, and\nbefore long the whole herd was running at headlong speed toward the\nprecipice, the rock piles directing them to the point over the\nenclosure. When they reached it, most of the animals were pushed over, and\nusually even the last of the band plunged blindly down into the\npis'kun. Many were killed outright by the fall; others had broken legs or\nbroken backs, while some perhaps were uninjured. The barricade, however,\nprevented them from escaping, and all were soon killed by the arrows of the\nIndians.\n\nIt is said that there was another way to get the buffalo into this chute. A\nman who was very skilful in arousing the buffalo's curiosity, might go out\nwithout disguise, and by wheeling round and round in front of the herd,\nappearing and disappearing, would induce them to move toward him, when it\nwas easy to entice them into the chute. Once there, the people began to\nrise up behind them, shouting and waving their robes, and the now\nterror-stricken animals rushed ahead, and were driven over the cliff into\nthe pis'kun, where all were quickly killed and divided among the people,\nthe chiefs and the leading warrior getting the best and fattest animals.\n\nThe pis'kun was in use up to within thirty-five or forty years, and many\nmen are still living who have seen the buffalo driven over the cliff. Such\nmen even now speak with enthusiasm of the plenty that successful drives\nbrought to the camp.\n\nThe pis'kuns of the Sik'-si-kau, or Blackfoot tribe, differed in some\nparticulars from those constructed by the Bloods and the Piegans, who live\nfurther to the south, nearer to the mountains, and so in a country which is\nrougher and more broken. The Sik'-si-kau built their pis'kuns like the\nCrees, on level ground and usually near timber. A large pen or corral was\nmade of heavy logs about eight feet high. On the side where the wings of\nthe chute come together, a bridge, or causeway, was built, sloping gently\nup from the prairie to the walls of the corral, which at this point were\ncut away to the height of the bridge above the ground,--here about\nfour feet,--so that the animals running up the causeway could jump down into\nthe corral. The causeway was fenced in on either side by logs, so that the\nbuffalo could not run off it. After they had been lured within the wings of\nthe chute, they were driven toward the corral as already described. When\nthey reached the end of the >, they ran up the bridge, and jumped down into\nthe pen. When it was full, or all had entered, Indians, who had lain hidden\nnear by, ran upon the bridge, and placed poles, prepared beforehand, across\nthe opening through which the animals had entered, and over these poles\nhung robes, so as entirely to close the opening. The buffalo will not dash\nthemselves against a barrier which is entirely closed, even though it be\nvery frail; but if they can see through it to the outside, they will rush\nagainst it, and their great weight and strength make it easy for them to\nbreak down any but a heavy wall. Mr. Hugh Monroe tells me that he has seen\na pis'kun built of willow brush; and the Cheyennes have stated to me that\ntheir buffalo corrals were often built of brush. Sometimes, if the walls of\nthe pis'kun were not high, the buffalo tried to jump or climb over them,\nand, in doing this, might break them down, and some or all escape. As soon,\nhowever, as the animals were in the corral, the people--women and children\nincluded--ran up and showed themselves all about the walls, and by their\ncries kept the buffalo from pressing against the walls. The animals ran\nround and round within, and the men standing on the walls shot them down as\nthey passed. The butchering was done in the pis'kun, and after this was\nover, the place was cleaned out, the heads, feet, and least perishable\noffal being removed. Wolves, foxes, badgers, and other small carnivorous\nanimals visited the pis'kun, and soon made away with the entrails.\n\nIn winter, when the snow was on the ground, and the buffalo were to be led\nto the pis'kun, the following method was adopted to keep the herd\ntravelling in the desired direction after they had got between the wings of\nthe chute. A line of buffalo chips, each one supported on three small\nsticks, so that it stood a few inches above the snow, was carried from the\nmouth of the pis'kun straight out toward the prairie. The chips were about\nthirty feet apart, and ran midway between the wings of the chute. This line\nwas, of course, conspicuous against the white snow, and when the buffalo\nwere running down the chute, they always followed it, never turning to the\nright nor to the left. In the latter days of the pis'kun, the man who led\nthe buffalo was often mounted on a white horse.\n\nOften, when they drove the buffalo over a high vertical cliff, no corral\nwas built beneath. Most of those driven over were killed or disabled by the\nfall, and only a few got away. The pis'kuns, as a rule, were built under\nlow-cut bluffs, and sometimes the buffalo were driven in by moonlight.\n\nIn connection with the subject of leading or decoying the buffalo, another\nmatter not generally known may be mentioned. Sometimes, as a matter of\nconvenience, a herd was brought from a long distance close up to the\ncamp. This was usually done in the spring of the year, when the horses were\nthin in flesh and not in condition to stand a long chase. I myself have\nnever seen this; but my friend, William Jackson, was once present at such a\ndrive by the Red River half-breeds, and has described to me the way in\nwhich it was done.\n\nThe camp was on Box Elder Creek near the Musselshell River. It was in the\nspring of 1881, and the horses were all pretty well run down and thin, so\nthat their owners wished to spare them as much as possible. The buffalo\nwere seven or eight miles distant, and two men were sent out to bring them\nto the camp. Other men, leading fresh horses, went with them, and hid\nthemselves among the hills at different points along the course that the\nbuffalo were expected to take, at intervals of a mile and a half. They\nwatched the herd, and were on hand to supply the fresh horses to the men\nwho were bringing it.\n\nThe buffalo were on a wide flat, and the men rode over the hill and\nadvanced toward the herd at a walk. At length the buffalo noticed them, and\nbegan to huddle up together and to walk about, and at length to walk\naway. Then the men turned, and rode along parallel to the buffalo's course,\nand at the same gait that these were taking. When the buffalo began to\ntrot, the men trotted, and when the herd began to lope, the men loped, and\nat length they were all running pretty fast. The men kept about half a mile\nfrom the herd, and up even with the leaders. As they ran, the herd kept\nconstantly edging a little toward the riders, as if trying to cross in\nfront of them. This inclination toward the men was least when they were far\noff, and greatest when they drew nearer to them. At no time were the men\nnearer to the herd than four hundred yards. If the buffalo edged too much\ntoward the riders, so that the course they were taking would lead them away\nfrom camp, the men would drop back and cross over behind the herd to the\nother side, and then, pushing their horses hard, would come up with the\nleaders,--but still at a distance from them,--and then the buffalo would\nbegin to edge toward them, and the herd would be brought back again to the\ndesired course. If necessary, this was repeated, and so the buffalo were\nkept travelling in a course approximately straight.\n\nBy the time the buffalo had got pretty near to the camp, they were pretty\nwell winded, and the tongues of many of them were hanging out. This herd\nwas led up among the rolling hills about a mile from the camp, and there\nthe people were waiting for them, and charged them, when the herd broke up,\nthe animals running in every direction.\n\nOccasionally it would happen that for a long time the buffalo would not be\nfound in a place favorable for driving over the cliff or into a pen. In\nsuch cases, the Indians would steal out on foot, and, on a day when there\nwas no wind, would stealthily surround the herd. Then they would startle\nthe buffalo, and yet would keep them from breaking through the circle. The\nbuffalo would \"mill\" around until exhausted, and at length, when worn out,\nwould be shot down by the Indians. This corresponds almost exactly with one\nof the methods employed in killing buffalo by the Pawnees in early days\nbefore they had horses.[1] In those days the Pi-k[)u]n'-i were very\nnumerous, and sometimes when a lot of buffalo were found in a favorable\nposition, and there was no wind, the people would surround them, and set up\ntheir lodges about them, thus practically building a corral of\nlodges. After all preparations had been made, they would frighten the\nbuffalo, which, being afraid to pass through between the lodges, would run\nround and round in a great circle, and when they were exhausted the people\nwould kill them.\n\n[Footnote 1: Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk-Tales, p. 250.]\n\nThen they always had plenty of buffalo--if not fresh meat, that which they\nhad dried. For in winter they would kill large numbers of buffalo, and\nwould prepare great stores of dried meat. As spring opened, the buffalo\nwould move down to the more flat prairie country away from the\npis'kuns. Then the Blackfeet would also move away. As winter drew near, the\nbuffalo would again move up close to the mountains, and the Indians, as\nfood began to become scarce, would follow them toward the pis'kuns. In the\nlast of the summer and early autumn, they always had runners out, looking\nfor the buffalo, to find where they were, and which way they were\nmoving. In the early autumn, all the pis'kuns were repaired and\nstrengthened, so as to be in good order for winter.\n\nIn the days before they had horses, and even in later times when the ground\nwas of such a character as to prevent running the buffalo, an ingenious\nmethod of still-hunting them was practised. A story told by Hugh Monroe\nillustrates it. He said: \"I was often detailed by the Hudson's Bay Company\nto go out in charge of a number of men, to kill meat for the fort. When the\nground was full of holes and wash-outs, so that running was dangerous, I\nused to put on a big timber wolf's skin, which I carried for the purpose,\ntying it at my neck and waist, and then to sneak up to the buffalo. I used\na bow and arrows, and generally shot a number without alarming them. If one\nlooked suspiciously at me, I would howl like a wolf. Sometimes the smell of\nthe blood from the wounded and dying would set the bulls crazy. They would\nrun up and lick the blood, and sometimes toss the dead ones clear from the\nground. Then they would bellow and fight each other, sometimes goring one\nanother so badly that they died. The great bulls, their tongues covered\nwith blood, their eyes flashing, and tails sticking out straight, roaring\nand fighting, were terrible to see; and it was a little dangerous for me,\nbecause the commotion would attract buffalo from all directions to see what\nwas going on. At such times, I would signal to my men, and they would ride\nup and scare the buffalo away.\"\n\nIn more modern times, the height of pleasure to a Blackfoot was to ride a\ngood horse and run buffalo. When bows and arrows, and, later,\nmuzzle-loading \"fukes\" were the only weapons, no more buffalo were killed\nthan could actually be utilized. But after the Winchester repeater came in\nuse, it seemed as if the different tribes vied with each other in wanton\nslaughter. Provided with one of these weapons and a couple of belts of\ncartridges, the hunters would run as long as their horses could keep up\nwith the band, and literally cover the prairie with carcasses, many of\nwhich were never even skinned.\n\n\n\nANTELOPE\n\nIt is said that once in early times the men determined that they would use\nantelope skins for their women's dresses, instead of cowskins. So they\nfound a place where antelope were plenty, and set up on the prairie long\nlines of rock piles, or of bushes, so as to form a chute like a >. Near the\npoint where the lines joined, they dug deep pits, which they roofed with\nslender poles, and covered these with grass and a little dirt. Then the\npeople scattered out, and while most of them hid behind the rock piles and\nbushes, a few started the antelope toward the mouth of the chute. As they\nran by them, the people showed themselves and yelled, and the antelope ran\ndown the chute and finally reached the pits, and falling into them were\ntaken, when they were killed and divided among the hunters. Afterward, this\nwas the common method of securing antelopes up to the coming of the whites.\n\n\n\nEAGLES\n\nBefore the whites came to the Blackfoot country, the Indian standard of\nvalue was eagle tail-feathers. They were used to make war head-dresses, to\ntie on the head, and to ornament shields, lances, and other\nweapons. Besides this, the wings were used for fans, and the body feathers\nfor arrow-making. Always a wary bird, the eagle could seldom be approached\nnear enough for killing with the bow and arrow; and, in fact, it seems as\nif it was considered improper to kill it in that way. The capture of these\nbirds appears to have had about it something of a sacred nature, and, as\nwas always the case among wild Indians when anything important was to be\nundertaken, it was invariably preceded by earnest prayers to the Deity for\nhelp and for success.\n\nThere are still living many men who have caught eagles in the ancient\nmethod, and, from several of these, accounts have been received, which,\nwhile essentially similar, yet differ in certain particulars, especially in\nthe explanations of certain features of the ceremony.\n\nWolf Calf's account of this ceremony is as follows:--\n\n\"A man who started out to catch eagles moved his lodge and his family away\nfrom the main camp, to some place where the birds were abundant. A spot was\nchosen on top of a mound or butte within a few miles of his lodge, and here\nhe dug a pit in the ground as long as his body and somewhat deeper. The\nearth removed was carried away to a distance, and scattered about so as to\nmake no show. When the pit had been made large enough, it was roofed over\nwith small willow sticks, on which grass was scattered, and over the grass\na little earth and stones were laid, so as to give the place a natural\nlook, like the prairie all about it.\n\n\"The bait was a piece of bloody neck of a buffalo. This, of course, could\nbe seen a long way off, and by the meat a stuffed wolf skin was often\nplaced, standing up, as if the animal were eating. To the piece of neck was\ntied a rope, which passed down through the roof of the pit and was held in\nthe watcher's hand.\n\n\"After all had been made ready, the next day the man rose very early,\nbefore it was light, and, after smoking and praying, left his camp, telling\nhis wives and children not to use an awl while he was gone. He endeavored\nto reach the pit early in the morning, before it became light, and lay down\nin it, taking with him a slender stick about six feet long, a human skull,\nand a little pemmican. Then he waited.\n\n\"When the morning came, and the eagles were flying, one of them would see\nthe meat and descend to take it away from the wolf. Finding it held fast by\nthe rope, the bird began to feed on it; and while it was pecking at the\nbait, the watcher seized it by the legs, and drew it into the pit, where he\nkilled it, either by twisting its neck, or by crushing it with his\nknees. Then he laid it to one side, first opening the bill and putting a\nlittle piece of pemmican in its mouth. This was done to make the other\neagles hungry. While he was in the pit, the man neither ate, drank, nor\nslept. He had a sleeping-place not far off, to which he repaired each night\nafter dark, and there he ate and drank.\n\n\"The reason for taking the skull into the hole with the catcher was, in\npart, for his protection. It was believed that the ghost of the person to\nwhom the skull had belonged would protect the watcher against harm from the\neagle, and besides that, the skull, or ghost, would make the watcher\ninvisible, like a ghost. The eagle would not see him.\n\n\"The stick was used to poke or drive away smaller birds, such as magpies,\ncrows, and ravens, which might alight on the roof of the pit, and try to\nfeed on the bait. It was used, also, to drive away the white-headed eagle,\nwhich they did not care to catch. These are powerful birds; they could\nalmost kill a person.\n\n\"There are two sacred things connected with the catching of eagles,--two\nthings which must be observed if the eagle-catcher is to have good\nluck. The man who is watching must not eat rosebuds. If he does, the eagle,\nwhen he comes down and alights by the bait, will begin to scratch himself\nand will not attack the bait. The rosebuds will make him itch. Neither the\nman nor his wife must use an awl while he is absent from his lodge, and is\ntrying to catch the birds. If this is done, the eagles will scratch the\ncatcher. Sometimes one man would catch a great many eagles.\"\n\nIn his day, John Monroe was a famous eagle-catcher, and he has given me the\nfollowing account of the method as he has practised it. The pit is dug, six\nfeet long, three wide, and four deep, on top of the highest knoll that can\nbe found near a stream. The earth taken out is carried a long way off. Over\nthe pit they put two long poles, one on each side, running lengthwise of\nthe pit, and other smaller sticks are laid across, resting on the\npoles. The smaller sticks are covered with juniper twigs and long grass. The\nskin of a wolf, coyote, or fox, is stuffed with grass, and made to look as\nnatural as possible. A hole is cut in the wolf skin and a rope is passed\nthrough it, one end being tied to a large piece of meat which lies by the\nskin, and the other passing through the roof down into the pit. The bait is\nnow covered with grass, and the man returns to his lodge for the night.\n\nDuring the night, he sings his eagle songs and burns sweet grass for the\neagles, rubbing the smoke over his own body to purify himself, so that on\nthe morrow he will give out no scent. Before day he leaves his lodge\nwithout eating or drinking, goes to the pit and lies down in it. He\nuncovers the bait, arranges the roof, and sits there all day holding the\nrope. Crows and other birds alight by the bait and peck at it, but he pays\nno attention to them.\n\nThe eagle, sailing about high in air, sees the bait, and settles down\nslowly. It takes it a long time to make up its mind to come to the bait. In\nthe pit, the man can hear the sound of the eagle coming. When the bird\nsettles on the ground, it does not alight on the bait, but at one side of\nit, striking the ground with a thud--heavily. The man never mistakes\nanything else for that sound. The eagle walks toward the bait, and all the\nother birds fly away. It walks on to the roof; and, through the crevices\nthat have been left between the sticks, the man can see in which direction\nthe bird's head is. He carefully pushes the stick aside and, reaching out,\ngrasps the eagle by the two feet. The bird does not struggle much. It is\ndrawn down into the pit, and the man wrings its neck. Then the opening is\nclosed, and the roof arranged as before. So the man waits and catches the\neagles that come through the day. Sometimes he sits all day and gets\nnothing; again he may get eight or ten in a day.\n\nWhen darkness comes, the man leaves his hiding-place, takes his eagles, and\ngoes home. He carries the birds to a special lodge, prepared outside of the\ncamp, which is called the eagles' lodge. He places them on the ground in a\nrow, and raises their heads, resting them on a stick laid in front of the\nrow. In the mouth of each one is put a piece of pemmican, so that they may\nnot be afraid of the people. The object of feeding the eagles is that\ntheir spirits may tell other eagles how they are being treated--that they\nare being fed by the people. In the lodge is a human skull, and they pray\nto it, asking the ghost to help them get the eagles.\n\nIt is said that in one pit, once, forty eagles were killed in a day. The\nlarger hawks were caught, as well as eagles, though the latter were the\nmost highly valued. Five eagles used to be worth a good horse, a valuation\nwhich shows that, in the Blackfoot country, eagles were more plenty, or\nhorses more valuable, than farther south, where, in old times, two eagles\nwould purchase a horse.\n\n\n\nOTHER GAME\n\nThey had no special means of capturing deer in any numbers. These were\nusually killed singly. The hunters used to creep up on elk and deer in the\nbrush, and when they had come close to them, they could drive even their\nstone-pointed arrows deep in the flesh. Often their game was killed dead on\nthe spot, but if not, they left it alone until the next day, when, on going\nback to the place, it was usually found near by, either dead or so\ndesperately wounded that they could secure it.\n\nDeadfalls were used to catch wolves, foxes, and other fur animals, and\nsmall apertures in the pis'kun walls were provided with nooses and snares\nfor the same purpose.\n\nAnother way to catch wolves and coyotes was to set heavy stakes in the\nground in a circle, about the carcasses of one or two dead buffalo. The\nstakes were placed at an angle of about forty-five degrees, a few inches\napart, and all pointing toward the centre of the circle. At one place, dirt\nwas piled up against the stakes from the outside, and the wolves, climbing\nup on this, jumped down into the enclosure, but were unable to jump\nout. Hugh Monroe tells me that, about thirty years ago, he and his sons\nmade a trap like this, and in one night caught eighty-three wolves and\ncoyotes.\n\nIn early times, beaver were very abundant and very tame, and were shot with\nbows and arrows.\n\nThe Blackfeet were splendid prairie hunters. They had no superiors in the\nart of stalking and killing such wary animals as the antelope. Sometimes\nthey wore hats made of the skin and horns of an antelope head, which were\nvery useful when approaching the game. Although the prairie was\npre-eminently their hunting-ground, they were also skilful in climbing\nmountains and killing sheep and goats. On the other hand, the northern\nCrees, who also are a prairie people, are poor mountain hunters.\n\n\n\nTHE BLACKFOOT IN WAR\n\n\nThe Blackfeet were a warlike people. How it may have been in the old days,\nbefore the coming of the white men, we do not know. Very likely, in early\ntimes, they were usually at peace with neighboring tribes, or, if quarrels\ntook place, battles were fought, and men killed, this was only in angry\ndispute over what each party considered its rights. Their wars were\nprobably not general, nor could they have been very bloody. When, however,\nhorses came into the possession of the Indians, all this must have soon\nbecome changed. Hitherto there had really been no incentive to war. From\ntime to time expeditions may have gone out to kill enemies,--for glory, or\nto take revenge for some injury,--but war had not yet been made desirable\nby the hope of plunder, for none of their neighbors--any more than\nthemselves--had property which was worth capturing and taking\naway. Primitive arms, dogs, clothing, and dried meat were common to all the\ntribes, and were their only possessions, and usually each tribe had an\nabundance of all these. It was not worth any man's while to make long\njourneys and to run into danger merely to increase his store of such\nproperty, when his present possessions were more than sufficient to meet\nall his wants. Even if such things had seemed desirable plunder, the amount\nof it which could be carried away was limited, since--for a war party--the\nonly means of transporting captured articles from place to place was on\nmen's backs, nor could men burdened with loads either run or fight. But\nwhen horses became known, and the Indians began to realize what a change\nthe possession of these animals was working in their mode of life, when\nthey saw that, by enormously increasing the transporting power of each\nfamily, horses made far greater possessions practicable, that they insured\nthe food supply, rendered the moving of the camp easier and more rapid,\nmade possible long journeys with a minimum of effort, and that they had a\nvalue for trading, the Blackfoot mind received a new idea, the idea that\nit was desirable to accumulate property. The Blackfoot saw that, since\nhorses could be exchanged for everything that was worth having, no one\nhad as many horses as he needed. A pretty wife, a handsome war bonnet,\na strong bow, a finely ornamented woman's dress,--any or all of these\nthings a man might obtain, if he had horses to trade for them. The\ngambler at \"hands,\" or at the ring game, could bet horses. The man who\nwas devoted to his last married wife could give her a horse as an evidence\nof his affection.\n\nWe can readily understand what a change the advent of the horse must have\nworked in the minds of a people like the Blackfeet, and how this changed\nmental attitude would react on the Blackfoot way of living. At first, there\nwere but few horses among them, but they knew that their neighbors to the\nwest and south--across the mountains and on the great plains beyond the\nMissouri and the Yellowstone--had plenty of them; that the K[=u]tenais, the\nKalispels, the Snakes, the Crows, and the Sioux were well provided. They\nsoon learned that horses were easily driven off, and that, even if followed\nby those whose property they had taken, the pursued had a great advantage\nover the pursuers; and we may feel sure that it was not long before the\nidea of capturing horses from the enemy entered some Blackfoot head and was\nput into practice.\n\nNow began a systematic sending forth of war parties against neighboring\ntribes for the purpose of capturing horses, which continued for about\nseventy-five or eighty years, and has only been abandoned within the last\nsix or seven, and since the settlement of the country by the whites made it\nimpossible for the Blackfeet longer to pass backward and forward through it\non their raiding expeditions. Horse-taking at once became what might be\ncalled an established industry among the Blackfeet. Success brought wealth\nand fame, and there was a pleasing excitement about the war journey.\nExcept during the bitterest weather of the winter, war parties of Blackfeet\nwere constantly out, searching for camps of their enemies, from whom they\nmight capture horses. Usually the only object of such an expedition was to\nsecure plunder, but often enemies were killed, and sometimes the party set\nout with the distinct intention of taking both scalps and horses.\n\nUntil some time after they had obtained guns, the Blackfeet were on\nexcellent terms with the northern Crees, but later the Chippeways from the\neast made war on the Blackfeet, and this brought about general hostilities\nagainst all Crees, which have continued up to within a few years. If I\nrecollect aright, the last fight which occurred between the Pi-kun'-i and\nthe Crees took place in 1886. In this skirmish, which followed an attempt\nby the Crees to capture some Piegan horses, my friend,\nTail-feathers-coming-in-sight-over-the-Hill, killed and counted _coup_ on a\nCree whose scalp he afterward sent me, as an evidence of his prowess.\n\nThe Gros Ventres of the prairie, of Arapaho stock, known to the Blackfeet\nas _At-s\u00e9na,_ or Gut People, had been friends and allies of the Blackfeet\nfrom the time they first came into the country, early in this century, up\nto about the year 1862, when, according to Clark, peace was broken through\na mistake.[1] A war party of Snakes had gone to a Gros Ventres camp near\nthe Bear Paw Mountains and there killed two Gros Ventres and taken a white\npony, which they subsequently gave to a party of Piegans whom they met, and\nwith whom they made peace. The Gros Ventres afterward saw this horse in the\nPiegan camp and supposed that the latter had killed their tribesman, and\nthis led to a long war. In the year 1867, the Piegans defeated the allied\nCrows and Gros Ventres in a great battle near the Cypress Mountains, in\nwhich about 450 of the enemy are said to have been killed.\n\n[Footnote 1: Indian Sign Language, p. 70.]\n\nAn expression often used in these pages, and which is so familiar to one\nwho has lived much with Indians as to need no explanation, is the phrase to\ncount _coup_. Like many of the terms common in the Northwest, this one\ncomes down to us from the old French trappers and traders, and a _coup_ is,\nof course, a blow. As commonly used, the expression is almost a direct\ntranslation of the Indian phrase to strike the enemy, which is in ordinary\nuse among all tribes. This striking is the literal inflicting a blow on an\nindividual, and does not mean merely the attack on a body of enemies.\n\nThe most creditable act that an Indian can perform is to show that he is\nbrave, to prove, by some daring deed, his physical courage, his lack of\nfear. In practice, this courage is shown by approaching near enough to an\nenemy to strike or touch him with something that is held in the hand--to\ncome up within arm's length of him. To kill an enemy is praiseworthy, and\nthe act of scalping him may be so under certain circumstances, but neither\nof these approaches in bravery the hitting or touching him with something\nheld in the hand. This is counting _coup_.\n\nThe man who does this shows himself without fear and is respected\naccordingly. With certain tribes, as the Pawnees, Cheyennes, and others, it\nwas not very uncommon for a warrior to dash up to an enemy and strike him\nbefore making any attempt to injure him, the effort to kill being secondary\nto the _coup_. The blow might be struck with anything held in the hand,--a\nwhip, coupstick, club, lance, the muzzle of a gun, a bow, or what not. It\ndid not necessarily follow that the person on whom the _coup_ had been\ncounted would be injured. The act was performed in the case of a woman, who\nmight be captured, or even on a child, who was being made prisoner.\n\nOften the dealing the _coup_ showed a very high degree of courage. As\nalready implied, it might be counted on a man who was defending himself\nmost desperately, and was trying his best to kill the approaching enemy,\nor, even if the attempt was being made on a foe who had fallen, it was\nnever certain that he was beyond the power of inflicting injury. He might\nbe only wounded, and, just when the enemy had come close to him, and was\nabout to strike, he might have strength enough left to raise himself up and\nshoot him dead. In their old wars, the Indians rarely took men\ncaptive. The warrior never expected quarter nor gave it, and usually men\nfought to the death, and died mute, defending themselves to the last--to\nthe last, striving to inflict some injury on the enemy.\n\nThe striking the blow was an important event in a man's life, and he who\nperformed this feat remembered it. He counted it. It was a proud day for\nthe young warrior when he counted his first _coup_, and each subsequent one\nwas remembered and numbered in the warrior's mind, just as an American of\nto-day remembers the number of times he has been elected to Congress. At\ncertain dances and religious ceremonies, like that of the Medicine Lodge,\nthe warriors counted--or rather re-counted--their _coups_.\n\nWhile the _coup_ was primarily, and usually, a blow with something held in\nthe hand, other acts in warfare which involved great danger to him who\nperformed them were also reckoned _coups_ by some tribes. Thus, for a\nhorseman to ride over and knock down an enemy, who was on foot, was\nregarded among the Blackfeet as a _coup_, for the horseman might be shot at\nclose quarters, or might receive a lance thrust. It was the same to ride\none's horse violently against a mounted foe. An old Pawnee told me of a\n_coup_ that he had counted by running up to a fallen enemy and jumping on\nhim with both feet. Sometimes the taking of horses counted a _coup_, but\nthis was not always the case.\n\nAs suggested by what has been already stated, each tribe of the Plains\nIndians held its own view as to what constituted a _coup_. The Pawnees were\nvery strict in their interpretation of the term, and with them an act of\ndaring was not in itself deemed a _coup_. This was counted only when the\nperson of an enemy was actually touched. One or two incidents which have\noccurred among the Pawnees will serve to illustrate their notions on this\npoint.\n\nIn the year 1867, the Pawnee scouts had been sent up to Ogallalla,\nNebraska, to guard the graders who were working on the Union Pacific\nrailroad. While they were there, some Sioux came down from the hills and\nran off a few mules, taking them across the North Platte. Major North took\ntwenty men and started after them. Crossing the river, and following it up\non the north bank, he headed them off, and before long came in sight of\nthem.\n\nThe six Sioux, when they found that they were pursued, left the mules that\nthey had taken, and ran; and the Pawnees, after chasing them eight or ten\nmiles, caught up with one of them, a brother of the well-known chief\nSpotted Tail. Baptiste Bahele, a half-breed Skidi, had a very fast horse,\nand was riding ahead of the other Pawnees, and shooting arrows at the\nSioux, who was shooting back at him. At length Baptiste shot the enemy's\nhorse in the hip, and the Indian dismounted and ran on foot toward a\nravine. Baptiste shot at him again, and this time sent an arrow nearly\nthrough his body, so that the point projected in front. The Sioux caught\nthe arrow by the point, pulled it through his body, and shot it back at his\npursuer, and came very near hitting him. About that time, a ball from a\ncarbine hit the Sioux and knocked him down.\n\nThen there was a race between Baptiste and the Pawnee next behind him, to\nsee which should count _coup_ on the fallen man. Baptiste was nearest to\nhim and reached him first, but just as he got to him, and was leaning over\nfrom his horse, to strike the dead man, the animal shied at the body,\nswerving to one side, and he failed to touch it. The horse ridden by the\nother Pawnee ran right over the Sioux, and his rider leaned down and\ntouched him.\n\nBaptiste claimed the _coup_--although acknowledging that he had not\nactually touched the man--on the ground that he had exposed himself to all\nthe danger, and would have hit the man if his horse had not swerved as it\ndid from the body; but the Pawnees would not allow it, and all gave the\ncredit of the _coup_ to the other boy, because he had actually touched the\nenemy.\n\nOn another occasion three or four young men started on the warpath from the\nPawnee village. When they came near to Spotted Tail's camp on the Platte\nRiver, they crossed the stream, took some horses, and got them safely\nacross the river. Then one of the boys recrossed, went back to the camp,\nand cut loose another horse. He had almost got this one out of the camp,\nwhen an Indian came out of a lodge near by, and sat down. The Pawnee shot\nthe Sioux, counted _coup_ on him, scalped him, and then hurried across the\nriver with the whole Sioux camp in pursuit. When the party returned to the\nPawnee village, this boy was the only one who received credit for a _coup_.\n\nAmong the Blackfeet the capture of a shield, bow, gun, war bonnet, war\nshirt, or medicine pipe was deemed a _coup_.\n\nNothing gave a man a higher place in the estimation of the people than the\ncounting of _coups_, for, I repeat, personal bravery is of all qualities\nthe most highly respected by Indians. On special occasions, as has been\nsaid, men counted over again in public their _coups_. This served to\ngratify personal vanity, and also to incite the young men to the\nperformance of similar brave deeds. Besides this, they often made a more\nenduring record of these acts, by reproducing them pictographically on\nrobes, cowskins, and other hides. There is now in my possession an\nilluminated cowskin, presented to me by Mr. J. Kipp, which contains the\nrecord of the _coups_ and the most striking events in the life of Red\nCrane, a Blackfoot warrior, painted by himself. These pictographs are very\nrude and are drawn after the style common among Plains Indians, but no\ndoubt they were sufficiently lifelike to call up to the mind of the artist\neach detail of the stirring events which they record.\n\nThe Indian warrior who stood up to relate some brave deed which he had\nperformed was almost always in a position to prove the truth of his\nstatements. Either he had the enemy's scalp, or some trophy captured from\nhim, to produce as evidence, or else he had a witness of his feat in some\ncompanion. A man seldom boasted of any deed unless he was able to prove his\nstory, and false statements about exploits against the enemy were most\nunusual. Temporary peace was often made between tribes usually at war, and,\nat the friendly meetings which took place during such times of peace,\nformer battles were talked over, the performances of various individuals\ndiscussed, and the acts of particular men in the different rights commented\non. In this way, if any man had falsely claimed to have done brave deeds,\nhe would be detected.\n\nAn example of this occurred many years ago among the Cheyennes. At that\ntime, there was a celebrated chief of the Skidi tribe of the Pawnee Nation\nwhose name was Big Eagle. He was very brave, and the Cheyennes greatly\nfeared him, and it was agreed among them that the man who could count\n_coup_ on Big Eagle should be made warchief of the Cheyennes. After a fight\non the Loup River, a Cheyenne warrior claimed to have counted _coup_ on Big\nEagle by thrusting a lance through his buttocks. On the strength of the\nclaim, this man was made war chief of the Cheyennes. Some years later,\nduring a friendly visit made by the Pawnees to the Cheyennes, this incident\nwas mentioned. Big Eagle was present at the time, and, after inquiring\ninto the matter, he rose in council, denied that he had ever been struck as\nclaimed, and, throwing aside his robe, called on the Cheyennes present to\nexamine his body and to point out the scars left by the lance. None were\nfound. It was seen that Big Eagle spoke the truth; and the lying Cheyenne,\nfrom the proud position of war chief, sank to a point where he was an\nobject of contempt to the meanest Indian in his tribe.\n\nAmong the Blackfeet a war party usually, or often, had its origin in a\ndream. Some man who has a dream, after he awakes tells of it. Perhaps he\nmay say: \"I dreamed that on a certain stream is a herd of horses that have\nbeen given to me, and that I am going away to get. I am going to war. I\nshall go to that place and get my band of horses.\" Then the men who know\nhim, who believe that his medicine is strong and that he will have good\nluck, make up their minds to follow him. As soon as he has stated what he\nintends to do, his women and his female relations begin to make moccasins\nfor him, and the old men among his relations begin to give him arrows and\npowder and ball to fit him out for war. The relations of those who are\ngoing with him do the same for them.\n\nThe leader notifies the young men who are going with him on what day and at\nwhat hour he intends to start. He determines the time for himself, but\ndoes not let the whole camp know it in advance. Of late years, large war\nparties have not been desirable. They have preferred to go out in small\nbodies. Just before a war party sets out, its members get together and sing\nthe \"peeling a stick song,\" which is a wolf song. Then they build a sweat\nlodge and go into it, and with them goes in an old man, a medicine-pipe\nman, who has been a good warrior. They fill the pipe and ask him to pray\nfor them, that they may have good luck, and may accomplish what they\ndesire. The medicine-pipe man prays and sings and pours water on the hot\nstones, and the warriors with their knives slice bits of skin and flesh\nfrom their bodies,--their arms and breasts and sometimes from the tip of\nthe tongue,--which they offer to the Sun. Then, after the ceremony is over,\nall dripping with perspiration from their vapor bath, the men go down to\nthe river and plunge in.\n\nIn starting out, a war party often marches in the daytime, but sometimes\nthey travel at night from the beginning. Often they may make an all night\nmarch across a wide prairie, in passing over which they might be seen if\nthey travelled in the day. They journey on foot, always. The older men\ncarry their arms, while the boys bear the moccasins, the ropes, and the\nfood, which usually consists of dried meat or pemmican. They carry also\ncoats and blankets and their war bonnets and otter skin medicine. The\nleader has but little physical labor to perform. His mind is occupied in\nplanning the movements of his party. He is treated with the greatest\nrespect. The others mend his moccasins, and give him the best of the food\nwhich they carry.\n\nAfter they get away from the main camp, the leader selects the strongest of\nthe young men, and sends him ahead to some designated butte, saying, \"Go to\nthat place, and look carefully over the country, and if you see nothing,\nmake signals to us to come on.\" This scout goes on ahead, travelling in the\nravines and coul\u00e9es, and keeps himself well hidden. After he has\nreconnoitred and made signs that he sees nothing, the party proceeds\nstraight toward him.\n\nThe party usually starts early in the morning and travels all day, making\ncamp at sundown. During the day, if they happen to come upon an antelope or\na buffalo, they kill it, if possible, and take some of the meat with\nthem. They try in every way to economize their pemmican. They always\nendeavor to make camp in the thick timber, where they cannot be seen; and\nhere, when it is necessary, on account of bad weather or for other reasons,\nthey build a war lodge. Taking four young cotton-woods or aspens, on which\nthe leaves are left, and lashing them together like lodge poles, but with\nthe butts up, about these they place other similar trees, also butts up and\nuntrimmed. The leaves keep the rain off, and prevent the light of the fire\nwhich is built in the lodge from showing through. Sometimes, when on the\nprairie, where there is no wood, in stormy weather they will build a\nshelter of rocks. When the party has come close to the enemy, or into a\ncountry where the enemy are likely to be found, they build no more fires,\nbut eat their food uncooked.\n\nWhen they see fresh tracks of people, or signs that enemies are in the\ncountry, they stop travelling in the daytime and move altogether by night,\nuntil they come to some good place for hiding, and here they stop and\nsleep. When day comes, the leader sends out young men to the different\nbuttes, to look over the country and see if they can discover the enemy. If\nsome one of the scouts reports that he has seen a camp, and that the enemy\nhave been found, the leader directs his men to paint themselves and put on\ntheir war bonnets. This last is a figure of speech, since the war bonnets,\nhaving of late years been usually ornamented with brass bells, could not be\nworn in a secret attack, on account of the noise they would make. Before\npainting themselves, therefore, they untie their war bonnets, and spread\nthem out on the ground, as if they were about to be worn, and then when\nthey have finished painting themselves, tie them up again. When it begins\nto get dark, they start on the run for the enemy's camp. They leave their\nfood in camp, but carry their ropes slung over the shoulder and under the\narm, whips stuck in belts, guns and blankets.\n\nAfter they have crept up close to the lodges, the leader chooses certain\nmen that have strong hearts, and takes them with him into the camp to cut\nloose the horses. The rest of the party remain outside the camp, and look\nabout its outskirts, driving in any horses that may be feeding about, not\ntied up. Of those who have gone into the camp, some cut loose one horse,\nwhile others cut all that may be tied about a lodge. Some go only once into\nthe camp, and some go twice to get the horses. When they have secured the\nhorses, they drive them off a little way from the camp, at first going\nslowly, and then mount and ride off fast. Generally, they travel two\nnights and one day before sleeping.\n\nThis is the usual method of procedure of an ordinary expedition to capture\nhorses, and I have given it very nearly in the language of the men who\nexplained it to me.\n\nIn their hostile encounters, the Blackfeet have much that is common to many\nPlains tribes, and also some customs that are peculiar to themselves. Like\nmost Indians, they are subject to sudden, apparently causeless, panics,\nwhile at other times they display a courage that is heroic. They are firm\nbelievers in luck, and will follow a leader who is fortunate in his\nexpeditions into almost any danger. On the other hand, if the leader of a\nwar party loses his young men, or any of them, the people in the camp think\nthat he is unlucky, and does not know how to lead a war party. Young men\nwill not follow him as a leader, and he is obliged to go as a servant or\nscout under another leader. He is likely never again to lead a war party,\nhaving learned to distrust his luck.\n\nIf a war party meets the enemy, and kills several of them, losing in the\nbattle one of its own number, it is likely, as the phrase is, to \"cover\"\nthe slain Blackfoot with all the dead enemies save one, and to have a scalp\ndance over that remaining one. If a party had killed six of the enemy and\nlost a man, it might \"cover\" the slain Blackfoot with five of the enemy. In\nother words, the five dead enemies would pay for the one which the war\nparty had lost. So far, matters would be even, and they would feel at\nliberty to rejoice over the victory gained over the one that is left.\n\nThe Blackfeet sometimes cut to pieces an enemy killed in battle. If a\nBlackfoot had a relation killed by a member of another tribe, and afterward\nkilled one of this tribe, he was likely to cut him all to pieces \"to get\neven,\" that is, to gratify his spite--to obtain revenge. Sometimes, after\nthey had killed an enemy, they dragged his body into camp, so as to give\nthe children an opportunity to count _coup_ on it. Often they cut the feet\nand hands off the dead, and took them away and danced over them for a long\ntime. Sometimes they cut off an arm or a leg, and often the head, and\ndanced and rejoiced over this trophy.\n\nWomen and children of hostile tribes were often captured, and adopted into\nthe Blackfoot tribes with all the rights and privileges of indigenous\nmembers. Men were rarely captured. When they were taken, they were\nsometimes killed in cold blood, especially if they had made a desperate\nresistance before being captured. At other times, the captive would be kept\nfor a time, and then the chief would take him off away from the camp, and\ngive him provisions, clothing, arms, and a horse, and let him go. The\ncaptive man always had a hard time at first. When he was brought into the\ncamp, the women and children threw dirt on him and counted _coups_ on him,\npounding him with sticks and clubs. He was rarely tied, but was always\nwatched. Often the man who had taken him prisoner had great trouble to\nkeep his tribesmen from killing him.\n\nIn the very early days of this century, war parties used commonly to start\nout in the spring, going south to the land where horses were abundant,\nbeing absent all summer and the next winter, and returning the following\nsummer or autumn, with great bands of horses. Sometimes they were gone two\nyears. They say that on such journeys they used to go to _Spai'yu ksah'ku_,\nwhich means the Spanish lands--_Spai'yu_ being a recently made word, no\ndoubt from the French _espagnol._ That they did get as far as Mexico, or at\nleast New Mexico, is indicated by the fact that they brought back branded\nhorses and a few branded mules; for in these early days there was no stock\nupon the Plains, and animals bearing brands were found only in the Spanish\nAmerican settlements. The Blackfeet did not know what these marks\nmeant. From their raids into these distant lands, they sometimes brought\nback arms of strange make, lances, axes, and swords, of a form unlike any\nthat they had seen. The lances had broad heads; some of the axes, as\ndescribed, were evidently the old \"T. Gray\" trade axes of the southwest. A\nsword, described as having a long, slender, straight blade, inlaid with a\nflower pattern of yellow metal along the back, was probably an old Spanish\nrapier.\n\nIn telling of these journeys to Spanish lands, they say of the very long\nreeds which grow there, that they are very large at the butt, are jointed,\nvery hard, and very tall; they grow in marshy places; and the water there\nhas a strange, mouldy smell.\n\nIt is said, too, that there have been war parties who have crossed the\nmountains and gone so far to the west that they have seen the big salt\nwater which lies beyond, or west of, the Great Salt Lake. Journeys as far\nsouth as Salt Lake were not uncommon, and Hugh Monroe has told me of a war\nparty he accompanied which went as far as this.\n\n\n\nRELIGION\n\n\nIn ancient times the chief god of the Blackfeet--their Creator--was _Na'pi_\n(Old Man). This is the word used to indicate any old man, though its\nmeaning is often loosely given as white. An analysis of the word _Na'pi_,\nhowever, shows it to be compounded of the word _Ni'nah_, man, and the\nparticle _a'pi_, which expresses a color, and which is never used by\nitself, but always in combination with some other word. The Blackfoot word\nfor white is _Ksik-si-num'_ while _a'pi_, though also conveying the idea of\nwhiteness, really describes the tint seen in the early morning light when\nit first appears in the east--the dawn--not a pure white, but that color\ncombined with a faint cast of yellow. _Na'pi_, therefore, would seem to\nmean dawn-light-color-man, or man-yellowish-white. It is easy to see why\nold men should be called by this latter name, for it describes precisely\nthe color of their hair.\n\nDr. Brinton, in his valuable work, American Hero Myths, has suggested a\nmore profound reason why such a name should be given to the Creator. He\nsays: \"The most important of all things to life is light. This the\nprimitive savage felt, and personifying it, he made light his chief god.\nThe beginning of day served, by analogy, for the beginning of the\nworld. Light comes before the Sun, brings it forth, creates it, as it\nwere. Hence the Light god is not the Sun god but his antecedent and\nCreator.\"\n\nIt would be absurd to attribute to the Blackfoot of to-day any such\nabstract conception of the name of the Creator as that expressed in the\nforegoing quotation. The statement that Old Man was merely light\npersonified would be beyond his comprehension, and if he did understand\nwhat was meant, he would laugh at it, and aver that _Na'pi_ was a real man,\na flesh and blood person like himself.\n\nThe character of Old Man, as depicted in the stories told of him by the\nBlackfeet, is a curious mixture of opposite attributes. In the serious\ntales, such as those of the creation, he is spoken of respectfully, and\nthere is no hint of the impish qualities which characterize him in other\nstories, in which he is powerful, but also at times impotent; full of all\nwisdom, yet at times so helpless that he has to ask aid from the\nanimals. Sometimes he sympathizes with the people, and at others, out of\npure spitefulness, he plays them malicious tricks that are worthy of a\ndemon. He is a combination of strength, weakness, wisdom, folly,\nchildishness, and malice.\n\nUnder various names Old Man is known to the Crees, Chippeways, and other\nAlgonquins, and many of the stories that are current among the Blackfeet\nare told of him among those tribes. The more southern of these tribes do\nnot venerate him as of old, but the Plains and Timber Crees of the north,\nand the north Chippeways, are said still to be firm believers in Old\nMan. He was their Creator, and is still their chief god. He is believed in\nless by the younger generation than the older. The Crees are regarded by\nthe Indians of the Northwest as having very powerful medicine, and this all\ncomes from Old Man.\n\nOld Man can never die. Long ago he left the Blackfeet and went away to the\nWest, disappearing in the mountains. Before his departure he told them\nthat he would always take care of them, and some day would return. Even\nnow, many of the old people believe that he spoke the truth, and that some\nday he will come back, and will bring with him the buffalo, which they\nbelieve the white men have hidden. It is sometimes said, however, that when\nhe left them he told them also that, when he returned, he would find them\nchanged--a different people and living in a different way from that which\nthey practised when he went away. Sometimes, also, it is said that when he\ndisappeared he went to the East.\n\nIt is generally believed that Old Man is no longer the principal god of the\nBlackfeet, that the Sun has taken his place. There is some reason to\nsuspect, however, that the Sun and Old Man are one, that _N[=a]t[=o]s_' is\nonly another name for _Na'pi_, for I have been told by two or three old men\nthat \"the Sun is the person whom we call Old Man.\" However this may be, it\nis certain that _Na'pi_--even if he no longer occupies the chief place in\nthe Blackfoot religious system--is still reverenced, and is still addressed\nin prayer. Now, however, every good thing, success in war, in the chase,\nhealth, long life, all happiness, come by the special favor of the Sun.\n\nThe Sun is a man, the supreme chief of the world. The flat, circular earth\nin fact is his home, the floor of his lodge, and the over-arching sky is\nits covering. The moon, _K[=o]-k[=o]-mik'-[=e]-[)i]s,_ night light, is the\nSun's wife. The pair have had a number of children, all but one of whom\nwere killed by pelicans. The survivor is the morning star,\n_A-pi-su-ahts_--early riser.\n\nIn attributes the Sun is very unlike Old Man. He is a beneficent person, of\ngreat wisdom and kindness, good to those who do right. As a special means\nof obtaining his favor, sacrifices must be made. These are often presents\nof clothing, fine robes, or furs, and in extreme cases, when the prayer is\nfor life itself, the offering of a finger, or--still dearer--a lock of\nhair. If a white buffalo was killed, the robe was always given to the\nSun. It belonged to him. Of the buffalo, the tongue--regarded as the\ngreatest delicacy of the whole animal--was especially sacred to the\nSun. The sufferings undergone by men in the Medicine Lodge each year were\nsacrifices to the Sun. This torture was an actual penance, like the sitting\nfor years on top of a pillar, the wearing of a hair shirt, or fasting in\nLent. It was undergone for no other purpose than that of pleasing God--as a\npropitiation or in fulfilment of vows made to him. Just as the priests of\nBaal slashed themselves with knives to induce their god to help them, so,\nand for the same reason, the Blackfoot men surged on and tore out the ropes\ntied to their skins. It is merely the carrying out of a religious idea that\nis as old as history and as widespread as the globe, and is closely akin to\nthe motive which to-day, in our own centres of enlightened civilization,\nprompts acts of self-denial and penance by many thousands of intelligent\ncultivated people. And yet we are horrified at hearing described the\ntortures of the Medicine Lodge.\n\nBesides the Sun and Old Man, the Blackfoot religious system includes a\nnumber of minor deities or rather natural qualities and forces, which are\npersonified and given shape. These are included in the general terms Above\nPersons, Ground Persons, and Under Water Persons. Of the former class,\nThunder is one of the most important, and is worshipped as is elsewhere\nshown. He brings the rain. He is represented sometimes as a bird, or, more\nvaguely, as in one of the stories, merely as a fearful person. Wind Maker\nis an example of an Under Water Person, and it is related that he has been\nseen, and his form is described. It is believed by some that he lives under\nthe water at the head of the Upper St. Mary's Lake. Those who believe this\nsay that when he wants the wind to blow, he makes the waves roll, and that\nthese cause the wind to blow,--another example of mistaking effect for\ncause, so common among the Indians. The Ground Man is another below\nperson. He lives under the ground, and perhaps typifies the power of the\nearth, which is highly respected by all Indians of the west. The Cheyennes\nalso have a Ground Man whom they call The Lower One, or Below Person\n_(Pun'-[)o]-ts[)i]-hyo)_. The cold and snow are brought by Cold Maker\n_(Ai'-so-yim-stan_). He is a man, white in color, with white hair, and clad\nin white apparel, who rides on a white horse. He brings the storm with\nhim. They pray to him to bring, or not to bring, the storm.\n\nMany of the animals are regarded as typifying some form of wisdom or\ncraft. They are not gods, yet they have power, which, perhaps, is given\nthem by the Sun or by Old Man. Examples of this are shown in some of the\nstories.\n\nAmong the animals especially respected and supposed to have great power,\nare the buffalo, the bear, the raven, the wolf, the beaver, and the\nkit-fox. Geese too, are credited with great wisdom and with foreknowledge\nof the weather. They are led by chiefs. As is quite natural among a people\nlike the Blackfeet, the buffalo stood very high among the animals which\nthey reverenced. It symbolized food and shelter, and was _Nato'y[)e]_ (of\nthe Sun), sacred. Not a few considered it a medicine animal, and had it for\ntheir dream, or secret helper. It was the most powerful of all the animal\nhelpers. Its importance is indicated by the fact that buffalo skulls were\nplaced on the sweat houses built in connection with the Medicine Lodge. A\nsimilar respect for the buffalo exists among many Plains tribes, which were\nformerly dependent on it for food and raiment. A reverence for the bear\nappears to be common to all North American tribes, and is based not upon\nanything that the animal's body yields, but perhaps on the fact that it is\nthe largest carnivorous mammal of the continent, the most difficult to kill\nand extremely keen in all its senses. The Blackfeet believe it to be part\nbrute and part human, portions of its body, particularly the ribs and feet,\nbeing like those of a man. The raven is cunning. The wolf has great\nendurance and much craft. He can steal close to one without being seen. In\nthe stories given in the earlier pages of this book, many of the attributes\nof the different animals are clearly set forth.\n\nThere were various powers and signs connected with these animals so held in\nhigh esteem by the Blackfeet, to which the people gave strict heed. Thus\nthe raven has the power of giving people far sight. It was also useful in\nanother way. Often, in going to war, a man would get a raven's skin and\nstuff the head and neck, and tie it to the hair of the head behind. If a\nman wearing such a skin got near the enemy without knowing it, the skin\nwould give him warning by tapping him on the back of the head with its\nbill. Then he would know that the enemy was near, and would hide. If a\nraven flew over a lodge, or a number of lodges, and cried, and then was\njoined by other ravens, all flying over the camp and crying, it was a sure\nsign that during the day some one would come and tell the news from far\noff. The ravens often told the people that game was near, calling to the\nhunter and then flying a little way, and then coming back, and again\ncalling and flying toward the game.\n\nThe wolves are the people's great friends; they travel with the wolves. If,\nas they are travelling along, they pass close to some wolves, these will\nbark at the people, talking to them. Some man will call to them, \"No, I\nwill not give you my body to eat, but I will give you the body of some one\nelse, if you will go along with us.\" This applies both to wolves and\ncoyotes. If a man goes away from the camp at night, and meets a coyote, and\nit barks at him, he goes back to the camp, and says to the people: \"Look\nout now; be smart. A coyote barked at me to-night.\" Then the people look\nout, and are careful, for it is a sure sign that something bad is going to\nhappen. Perhaps some one will be shot; perhaps the enemy will charge the\ncamp.\n\nIf a person is hungry and sings a wolf song, he is likely to find food. Men\ngoing on a hunting trip sing these songs, which bring them good luck. The\nbear has very powerful medicine. Sometimes he takes pity on people and\nhelps them, as in the story of Mik'-api.\n\nSome Piegans, if they wish to travel on a certain day, have the power of\ninsuring good weather on that day. It is supposed that they do this by\nsinging a powerful song. Some of the enemy can cause bad weather, when they\nwant to steal into the camp.\n\nPeople who belonged to the _Sin'-o-pah_ band of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi,_ if\nthey were at war in summer and wanted a storm to come up, would take some\ndirt and water and rub it on the kit-fox skin, and this would cause a\nrain-storm to come up. In winter, snow and dirt would be rubbed on the skin\nand this would bring up a snow-storm.\n\nCertain places and inanimate objects are also greatly reverenced by the\nBlackfeet, and presents are made to them.\n\nThe smallest of the three buttes of the Sweet Grass Hills is regarded as\nsacred. \"All the Indians are afraid to go there,\" Four Bears once told\nme. Presents are sometimes thrown into the Missouri River, though these are\nnot offerings made directly to the stream, but are given to the Under Water\nPeople, who live in it.\n\nMention has already been made of the buffalo rock, which gives its owner\nthe power to call the buffalo.\n\nAnother sacred object is the medicine rock of the Marias. It is a huge\nboulder of reddish sandstone, two-thirds the way up a steep hill on the\nnorth bank of the Marias River, about five miles from Fort\nConrad. Formerly, this rock rested on the top of the bluff, but, as the\nsoil about it is worn away by the wind and the rain, it is slowly moving\ndown the hill. The Indians believe it to be alive, and make presents to\nit. When I first visited it, the ground about it was strewn with decaying\nremnants of offerings that had been made to it in the past. Among these I\nnoticed, besides fragments of clothing, eagle feathers, a steel finger ring,\nbrass ear-rings, and a little bottle made of two copper cartridge cases.\n\nDown on Milk River, east of the Sweet Grass Hills, is another medicine\nrock. It is shaped something like a man's body, and looks like a person\nsitting on top of the bluff. Whenever the Blackfeet pass this rock, they\nmake presents to it. Sometimes, when they give it an article of clothing,\nthey put it on the rock, \"and then,\" as one of them once said to me, \"when\nyou look at it, it seems more than ever like a person.\" Down in the big\nbend of the Milk River, opposite the eastern end of the Little Rocky\nMountains, lying on the prairie, is a great gray boulder, which is shaped\nlike a buffalo bull lying down. This is greatly reverenced by all Plains\nIndians, Blackfeet included, and they make presents to it. Many other\nexamples of similar character might be given.\n\nThe Blackfeet make daily prayers to the Sun and to Old Man, and nothing of\nimportance is undertaken without asking for divine assistance. They are\nfirm believers in dreams. These, they say, are sent by the Sun to enable us\nto look ahead, to tell what is going to happen. A dream, especially if it\nis a strong one,--that is, if the dream is very clear and vivid,--is almost\nalways obeyed. As dreams start them on the war path, so, if a dream\nthreatening bad luck comes to a member of a war party, even if in the\nenemy's country and just about to make an attack on a camp, the party is\nlikely to turn about and go home without making any hostile\ndemonstrations. The animal or object which appears to the boy, or man, who\nis trying to dream for power, is, as has been said, regarded thereafter as\nhis secret helper, his medicine, and is usually called his dream\n_(Nits-o'-kan)_.\n\nThe most important religious occasion of the year is the ceremony of the\nMedicine Lodge. This is a sacrifice, which, among the Blackfeet, is offered\ninvariably by women. If a woman has a son or husband away at war, and is\nanxious about him, or if she has a dangerously sick child, she may make to\nthe Sun a vow in the following words:--\n\n\"Listen, Sun. Pity me. You have seen my life. You know that I am pure. I\nhave never committed adultery with any man. Now, therefore, I ask you to\npity me. I will build you a lodge. Let my son survive. Bring him back to\nhealth, so that I may build this lodge for you.\"\n\nThe vow to build the Medicine Lodge is repeated in a loud voice, outside\nher lodge, so that all the people may hear it, and if any man can impeach\nthe woman, he is obliged to speak out, in which case she could be punished\naccording to the law. The Medicine Lodge is always built in summer, at the\nseason of the ripening of the sarvis berries, and if, before this time, the\nperson for whom the vow is made dies, the woman is not obliged to fulfil\nher vow. She is regarded with suspicion, and it is generally believed that\nshe has been guilty of the crime she disavowed. As this cannot be proved,\nhowever, she is not punished.\n\nWhen the time approaches for the building of the lodge, a suitable locality\nis selected, and all the people move to it, putting up their lodges in a\ncircle about it. In the meantime, at least a hundred buffalo tongues have\nbeen collected, cut, and dried by the woman who may be called the Medicine\nLodge woman. No one but she is allowed to take part in this work.\n\nBefore the tongues are cut and dried, they are laid in a pile in the\nmedicine woman's lodge. She then gives a feast to the old men, and one of\nthem, noted for his honesty, and well liked by all, repeats a very long\nprayer, asking in substance that the coming Medicine Lodge may be\nacceptable to the Sun, and that he will look with favor on the people, and\nwill give them good health, plenty of food, and success in war. A hundred\nsongs are then sung, each one different from the others. The feast and\nsinging of these songs lasts a day and a half.[Illustration: MEDICINE\nLODGE]\n\nBefore the Medicine Lodge is erected, four large sweat lodges are built,\nall in a line, fronting to the east or toward the rising sun. Two stand in\nfront of the Medicine Lodge, and two behind it. The two nearest the\nMedicine Lodge are built one day, and the others on the day following. The\nsticks for the framework of these lodges are cut only by renowned warriors,\neach warrior cutting one, and, as he brings it in and lays it down, he\ncounts a _coup_, which must be of some especially brave deed. The old men\nthen take the sticks and erect the lodges, placing on top of each a buffalo\nskull, one half of which is painted red, the other black, to represent day\nand night, or rather the sun and the moon. When the lodges are finished and\nthe stones heated, the warriors go in to sweat, and with them the medicine\npipe men, who offer up prayers.\n\nWhile this is going on, the young men cut the centre post for the Medicine\nLodge, and all the other material for its construction. The women then pack\nout the post and the poles on horses, followed by the men shouting,\nsinging, and shooting.\n\nIn the morning of this day the medicine woman begins a fast, which must\nlast four days and four nights, with only one intermission, as will shortly\nappear. During that time she may not go out of doors, except between sunset\nand sunrise. During the whole ceremony her face, hands, and clothing are\ncovered with the sacred red paint.\n\nWhen all the material has been brought to the spot where the lodge is to be\nerected, that warrior who, during the previous year, has done the most\ncutting and stabbing in battle is selected to cut the rawhide to bind it,\nand while he cuts the strings he counts three _coups_.\n\nThe centre post is now placed on the ground, surrounded by the poles and\nother smaller posts; and two bands of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_, the Braves,\nand the All Crazy Dogs approach. Each band sings four songs, and then they\nraise the lodge amid the shouting of the people. It is said that, in old\ntimes, all the bands of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_ took part in this\nceremony. For raising the centre post, which is very heavy, lodge poles are\ntied in pairs, with rawhide, so as to form \"shears,\" each pair being\nhandled by two men. If one of the ropes binding the shears breaks, the men\nwho hold the pair are said to be unlucky; it is thought that they are soon\nto die. As soon as the centre post is up, the wall posts are erected, and\nthe roof of poles put on, the whole structure being covered with brush. The\ndoor-way faces east or southeast, and the lodge is circular in shape, about\nforty feet in diameter, with walls about seven feet high.\n\nInside the Medicine Lodge, at the back, or west side, in the principal\nplace in the lodge, is now built a little box-shaped house, about seven\nfeet high, six feet long, and four wide. It is made of brush, so tightly\nwoven that one cannot see inside of it. This is built by a medicine man,\nthe high priest of this ceremony, who, for four days, the duration of the\nceremony, neither eats nor goes out of it in the daytime. The people come\nto him, two at a time, and he paints them with black, and makes for them an\nearnest prayer to the Sun, that they may have good health, long lives, and\ngood food and shelter. This man is supposed to have power over the rain. As\nrain would interfere with the ceremonies, he must stop it, if it threatens.\n\nIn the meantime, the sacred dried tongues have been placed in the Medicine\nLodge. The next morning, the Medicine Lodge woman leaves her own lodge,\nand, walking very slowly with bowed head, and praying at every step, she\nenters the Medicine Lodge, and, standing by the pile of tongues, she cuts\nup one of them and holds it toward heaven, offering it to the Sun; then she\neats a part of it and buries the rest in the dirt, praying to the Ground\nMan, and calling him to bear witness that she has not defiled his body by\ncommitting adultery. She then proceeds to cut up the tongues, giving a very\nsmall piece to every person, man, woman, or child. Each one first holds it\nup to the Sun, and then prays to the Sun, Na'-pi, and the Ground Man for\nlong life, concluding by depositing a part of the morsel of tongue on the\nground, saying, \"I give you this sacred tongue to eat.\" And now, during the\nfour days, outside the lodge, goes on the counting of the _coups_. Each\nwarrior in turn recounts his success in war,--his battles or his\nhorse-takings. With a number of friends to help him, he goes through a\npantomime of all these encounters, showing how he killed this enemy, took a\ngun from that one, or cut horses loose from the lodge of another. When he\nhas concluded, an old man offers a prayer, and ends by giving him a new\nname, saying that he hopes he will live well and long under it.\n\nInside the lodge, rawhide ropes are suspended from the centre post, and\nhere the men fulfil the vows that they have made during the previous\nyear. Some have been sick, or in great danger at war, and they then vowed\nthat if they were permitted to live, or escape, they would swing at the\nMedicine Lodge. Slits are cut in the skin of their breast, ropes passed\nthrough and secured by wooden skewers, and then the men swing and surge\nuntil the skin gives way and tears out. This is very painful, and some\nfairly shriek with agony as they do it, but they never give up, for they\nbelieve that if they should fail to fulfil their vow, they would soon die.\n\nOn the fourth day every one has been prayed for, every one has made to the\nSun his or her present, which is tied to the centre post, the sacred\ntongues have all been consumed, and the ceremony ends, every one feeling\nbetter, assured of long life and plenty.\n\nMost persons have an entirely erroneous idea of the purpose of this annual\nceremony. It has been supposed that it was for the purpose of making\nwarriors. This is not true. It was essentially a religious festival,\nundertaken for the bodily and spiritual welfare of the people according to\ntheir beliefs. Incidentally, it furnished an opportunity for the rehearsal\nof daring deeds. But among no tribes who practised it were warriors made by\nit. The swinging by the breast and other self-torturings were but the\nfulfilment of vows, sacred promises made in time of danger, penances\nperformed, and not, as many believe, an occasion for young men to test\ntheir courage.\n\nFrom the Indians of the tribe, the Medicine Lodge woman receives a very\nhigh measure of respect and consideration. Blackfoot men have said to me,\n\"We look on the Medicine Lodge woman as you white people do on the Roman\nCatholic sisters.\" Not only is she virtuous in deed, but she must be\nserious and clean-minded. Her conversation must be sober.\n\nBefore the coming of the whites, the Blackfeet used to smoke the leaves of\na plant which they call _na-wuh'-to-ski_, and which is said to have been\nreceived long, long ago from a medicine beaver. It was used unmixed with\nany other plant. The story of how this came to the tribe is told\nelsewhere.[1] This tobacco is no longer planted by the Piegans, nor by the\nBloods, though it is said that an old Blackfoot each year still goes\nthrough the ceremony, and raises a little. The plant grows about ten\ninches high and has a long seed stalk growing from the centre. White Calf,\nthe chief of the Piegans, has the secrets of the tobacco and is perhaps the\nonly person in the tribe who knows them. From him I have received the\nfollowing account of the ceremonies connected with it:--\n\n[Footnote 1: The Beaver Medicine, p. 117.]\n\nEarly in the spring, after the last snow-storm, when the flowers begin to\nbud (early in the month of May), the women and children go into the timber\nand prepare a large bed, clearing away the underbrush, weeds and grass and\nleaves and sticks, raking the ground till the earth is thoroughly\npulverized. Elk, deer, and mountain sheep droppings are collected, pounded\nfine, and mixed with the seed which is to be sown.\n\nOn the appointed day all the men gather at the bed. Each one holds in his\nhand a short, sharp-pointed stick, with which to make a hole in the\nground. The men stand in a row extending across the bed. At a signal they\nmake the holes in the ground, and drop in some seed, with some sacred\nsarvis berries. The tobacco song is sung by the medicine men, all take a\nshort step forward, make another hole, a foot in front of the last, and\nthen drop in it some more seed. Another song is sung, another step taken,\nand seed is again planted; and this continues until the line of men has\nmoved all the way across the bed, and the planting is completed. The\ntobacco dance follows the planting.\n\nAfter the seed has been planted, they leave it and go off after the\nbuffalo. While away during the summer, some important man--one of the\nmedicine men who had taken part in the planting--announces to the people\nhis purpose to go back to look after the crop. He starts, and after he has\nreached the place, he builds a little fire in the bed, and offers a prayer\nfor the crop, asking that it may survive and do well. Then he pulls up one\nof the plants, which he takes back with him and shows to the people, so\nthat all may see how the crop is growing. He may thus visit the place three\nor four times in the course of the summer.\n\nFrom time to time, while they are absent from the tobacco patch in summer,\nmoving about after the buffalo, the men gather in some lodge to perform a\nspecial ceremony for the protection of the crop. Each man holds in his hand\na little stick. They sing and pray to the Sun and Old Man, asking that the\ngrasshoppers and other insects may not eat their plants. At the end of each\nsong they strike the ground with their sticks, as if killing grasshoppers\nand worms. It has sometimes happened that a young man has said that he does\nnot believe that these prayers and songs protect the plants, that the Sun\ndoes not send messengers to destroy the worms. To such a one a medicine\nman will say, \"Well, you can go to the place and see for yourself.\" The\nyoung man gets on his horse and travels to the place. When he comes to the\nedge of the patch and looks out on it, he sees many small children at work\nthere, killing worms. He has not believed in this before, but now he goes\nback convinced. Such a young man does not live very long.\n\nAt length the season comes for gathering the crop, and, at a time\nappointed, all the camps begin to move back toward the tobacco patch,\ntiming their marches so that all may reach it on the same day. When they\nget there, they camp near it, but no one visits it except the head man of\nthe medicine men who took charge of the planting. This man goes to the bed,\ngathers a little of the plant, and returns to the camp.\n\nA small boy, six or eight years old, is selected to carry this plant to the\ncentre of the circle. The man who gathered the tobacco ties it to a little\nstick, and, under the tobacco, to the stick he ties a baby's moccasin. The\nlittle boy carries this stick to the centre of the camp, and stands it in\nthe ground in the middle of the circle, the old man accompanying him and\nshowing him where to put it. It is left there all night. The next day there\nis a great feast, and the kettles of food are all brought to the centre of\nthe camp. The people all gather there, and a prayer is made. Then they sing\nthe four songs which belong especially to this festival. The first and\nfourth are merely airs without words; the second has words, the purport of\nwhich is, \"The sun goes with us.\" The third song says, \"Hear your\nchildren's prayer.\" After the ceremony is over, every one is at liberty to\ngo and gather the tobacco. It is dried and put in sacks for use during the\nyear. The seed is collected for the next planting. When they reach the\npatch, if the crop is good, every one is glad. After the gathering, they\nall move away again after the buffalo.\n\nSometimes a man who was lazy, and had planted no tobacco, would go secretly\nto the patch, and pull a number of plants belonging to some one else, and\nhide them for his own use. Now, in these prayers that they offer, they do\nnot ask for mercy for thieves. A man who had thus taken what did not belong\nto him would have a lizard appear to him in a dream, and then he would fall\nsick and die. The medicine men would know of all this, but they would not\ndo anything. They would just let him die.\n\nThis tobacco was given us by the one who made us.\n\nThe Blackfoot cosmology is imperfect and vague, and I have been able to\nobtain nothing like a complete account of it, for I have found no one who\nappeared to know the story of the beginning of all things.\n\nSome of the Blackfeet now say that originally there was a great womb, in\nwhich were conceived the progenitors of all animals now on earth. Among\nthese was Old Man. As the time for their birth drew near, the animals used\nto quarrel as to which should be the first to be born, and one day, in a\nfierce struggle about this, the womb burst, and Old Man jumped first to the\nground. For this reason, he named all the animals Nis-kum'-iks, Young\nBrothers; and they, because he was the first-born, called him Old Man.\n\nThere are several different accounts of the creation of the people by Old\nMan. One is that he married a female dog, and that their progeny were the\nfirst people. Others, and the ones most often told, have been given in the\nOld Man stories already related.\n\nThere is an account of the creation which is essentially an Algonquin myth,\nand is told by most of the tribes of this stock from the Atlantic to the\nRocky Mountains, though the hero is variously named. Here is the Blackfoot\nversion of it:--\n\nIn the beginning, all the land was covered with water, and Old Man and all\nthe animals were floating around on a large raft. One day Old Man told the\nbeaver to dive and try to bring up a little mud. The beaver went down, and\nwas gone a long time, but could not reach the bottom. Then the loon tried,\nand the otter, but the water was too deep for them. At last the muskrat\ndived, and he was gone so long that they thought he had drowned, but he\nfinally came up, almost dead, and when they pulled him on to the raft, they\nfound, in one of his paws, a little mud. With this, Old Man formed the\nworld, and afterwards he made the people.\n\nThis myth, while often related by the Blackfoot tribe, is seldom heard\namong the Bloods or Piegans. It is uncertain whether all three tribes used\nto know it, but have forgotten it, or whether it has been learned in\ncomparatively modern times by the Blackfeet from the Crees, with whom they\nhave always had more frequent intercourse and a closer connection than the\nother two tribes.\n\nThere is also another version of the origin of death. When Old Man made the\nfirst people, he gave them very strong bodies, and for a long time no one\nwas sick. At last, a little child fell ill. Each day it grew weaker and\nweaker, and at last it fainted. Then the mother went to Old Man, and prayed\nhim to do something for it.\n\n\"This,\" said Old Man, \"will be the first time it has happened to the\npeople. You have seen the buffalo fall to the ground when struck with an\narrow. Their hearts stop beating, they do not breathe, and soon their\nbodies become cold. They are then dead. Now, woman, it shall be for you to\ndecide whether death shall come to the people as well as to the other\nanimals, or whether they shall live forever. Come now with me to the\nriver.\"\n\nWhen they reached the water's edge, Old Man picked up from the ground a dry\nbuffalo chip and a stone. \"Now, woman,\" he said, \"you will tell me which\none of these to throw into the water. If what I throw floats, your child\nshall live; the people shall live forever. If it sinks, then your child\nshall die, and all the people shall die, each one when his time comes.\"\n\nThe woman stood still a long time, looking from the stone to the buffalo\nchip, and from the chip to the stone. At last she said, \"Throw the stone.\"\nThen Old Man tossed it into the river, and it sank to the bottom. \"Woman,\"\nhe cried, \"go home; your child is dead.\" Thus, on account of a foolish\nwoman, we all must die.\n\nThe shadow of a person, the Blackfeet say, is his soul. Northeast of the\nSweet Grass Hills, near the international boundary line, is a bleak, sandy\ncountry called the Sand Hills, and there all the shadows of the deceased\ngood Blackfeet are congregated. The shadows of those who in this world led\nwicked lives are not allowed to go there. After death, these wicked persons\ntake the shape of ghosts _(Sta-au'_[1]), and are compelled ever after to\nremain near the place where they died. Unhappy themselves, they envy those\nwho are happy, and continually prowl about the lodges of the living,\nseeking to do them some injury. Sometimes they tap on the lodge skins and\nwhistle down the smoke hole, but if the fire is burning within they will\nnot enter.\n\n[Footnote 1: The human skeleton is also called _Sta-au', i.e._\nghost. Compare Cheyenne _Mis-tai'_, ghost.]\n\nOutside in the dark they do much harm, especially the ghosts of enemies who\nhave been killed in battle. These sometimes shoot invisible arrows into\npersons, causing sickness and death. They have hit people on the head,\ncausing them to become crazy. They have paralyzed people's limbs, and drawn\ntheir faces out of shape, and done much other harm. Ghosts walk above the\nground, not on it. An example of this peculiarity is seen in the case of\nthe young man who visited the lodge of the starving family, in the story\nentitled Origin of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi._\n\nGhosts sometimes speak to people. An instance of this is the following,\nwhich occurred to my friend Young Bear Chief, and which he related to\nme. He said: \"I once went to war, and took my wife with me. I went to\nBuffalo Lip Butte, east of the Cypress Mountains; a little creek runs by\nit. I took eighteen horses from an Assinaboine camp one night, when it was\nvery foggy. I found sixteen horses feeding on the hills, and went into the\ncamp and cut loose two more. Then we went off with the horses. When we\nstarted, it was so foggy that I could not see the stars, and I did not know\nwhich way to run. I kept travelling in what I supposed was the direction\ntoward home, but I did not know where I was going. After we had gone a long\nway, I stopped and got off my horse to fix my belt. My wife did not\ndismount, but sat there waiting for me to mount and ride on.\n\n\"I spoke to my wife, and said to her, 'We don't know which way to go.' A\nvoice spoke up right behind me and said: 'It is well; you go ahead. You are\ngoing right.' When I heard the voice, the top of my head seemed to lift up\nand felt as if a lot of needles were sticking into it. My wife, who was\nright in front of me, was so frightened that she fainted and fell off her\nhorse, and it was a long time before she came to. When she got so she could\nride, we went on, and when morning came I found that we were going\nstraight, and were on the west side of the West Butte of the Sweet Grass\nHills. We got home all right. This must have been a ghost.\"\n\nNow and then among the Blackfeet, we find evidences of a belief that the\nsoul of a dead person may take up its abode in the body of an animal. An\nexample of this is seen in the story of E-k[=u]s'-kini, p. 90. Owls are\nthought to be the ghosts of medicine men.\n\nThe Blackfeet do not consider the Sand Hills a happy hunting ground. There\nthe dead, who are themselves shadows, live in shadow lodges, hunt shadow\nbuffalo, go to war against shadow enemies, and in every way lead an\nexistence which is but a mimicry of this life. In this respect the\nBlackfeet are almost alone. I know of scarcely any other American tribe,\ncertainly none east of the Rocky Mountains, who are wholly without a belief\nin a happy future state. The Blackfeet do not especially say that this\nfuture life is an unhappy one, but, from the way in which they speak of it,\nit is clear that for them it promises nothing desirable. It is a\nmonotonous, never ending, and altogether unsatisfying existence,--a life as\nbarren and desolate as the country which the ghosts inhabit. These people\nare as much attached to life as we are. Notwithstanding the unhappy days\nwhich have befallen them of late years,--days of privation and\nhunger,--they cling to life. Yet they seem to have no fear of death. When\ntheir time comes, they accept their fate without a murmur, and tranquilly,\nquietly pass away.\n\n\n\nMEDICINE PIPES AND HEALING\n\n\nThe person whom the whites term \"medicine man\" is called by the Blackfeet\n_Ni-namp'-skan_. Mr. Schultz believes this word to be compounded of\n_nin'nah_, man, and _namp'-ski_, horned toad (_Phrynosoma_), and in this he\nis supported by Mr. Thomas Bird, a very intelligent half-breed, who has\ntranslated a part of the Bible into the Blackfoot language for the\nRev. S. Trivett, a Church of England missionary. These gentlemen conclude\nthat the word means \"all-face man.\" The horned toad is called _namp'-ski_,\nall-face; and as the medicine man, with his hair done up in a huge topknot,\nbore a certain resemblance to this creature, he was so named. No one among\nthe Blackfeet appears to have any idea as to what the word means.\n\nThe medicine pipes are really only pipe stems, very long, and beautifully\ndecorated with bright-colored feathers and the fur of the weasel and other\nanimals. It is claimed that these stems were given to the people long, long\nago, by the Sun, and that those who own them are regarded by him with\nspecial favor.\n\nFormerly these stems were valued at from fifteen to thirty head of horses,\nand were bought and sold like any other property. When not in use, they\nwere kept rolled up in many thicknesses of fine tanned fur, and with them\nwere invariably a quantity of tobacco, a sacred whistle, two sacred\nrattles, and some dried sweet grass, and sweet pine needles.\n\nIn the daytime, in pleasant weather, these sacred bundles were hung out of\ndoors behind the owners' lodges, on tripods. At night they were suspended\nwithin, above the owners' seat It was said that if at any time a person\nshould walk completely around the lodge of a medicine man, some bad luck\nwould befall him. Inside the lodge, no one was allowed to pass between the\nfireplace and the pipe stem. No one but a medicine man and his head wife\ncould move or unroll the bundle. The man and his wife were obliged always\nto keep their faces, hands, and clothing painted with _nits'-i-san,_ a dull\nred paint, made by burning a certain clay found in the bad lands.\n\nThe _Ni-namp'-skan_ appears to be a priest of the Sun, and prayers offered\nthrough him are thought to be specially favored. So the sacred stem is\nfrequently unrolled for the benefit of the sick, for those who are about to\nundertake a dangerous expedition, such as a party departing to war, for\nprayers for the general health and prosperity of the people, and for a\nbountiful supply of food. At the present time these ancient ceremonies have\nlargely fallen into disuse. In fact, since the disappearance of the\nbuffalo, most of the old customs are dying out.\n\nThe thunder is believed to bring the rain in spring, and the rain makes the\nberries grow. It is a rule that after the first thunder is heard in the\nspring, every medicine man must give a feast and offer prayers for a large\nberry crop. I have never seen this ceremony, but Mr. Schultz was once\npermitted to attend one, and has given me the following account of it. He\nsaid: \"When I entered the lodge with the other guests, the pipe stem had\nalready been unrolled. Before the fire were two huge kettles of cooked\nsarvis berries, a large bowlful of which was soon set before each guest.\nEach one, before eating, took a few of the berries and rubbed them into the\nground, saying, 'Take pity on us, all Above People, and give us good.'\n\n\"When all had finished eating, a large black stone pipe bowl was filled and\nfitted to the medicine stem, and the medicine man held it aloft and said:\n'Listen, Sun! Listen, Thunder! Listen, Old Man! All Above Animals, all\nAbove People, listen. Pity us! You will smoke. We fill the sacred pipe. Let\nus not starve. Give us rain during this summer. Make the berries large and\nsweet. Cover the bushes with them. Look down on us all and pity us. Look\nat the women and the little children; look at us all. Let us reach old\nage. Let our lives be complete. Let us destroy our enemies. Help the young\nmen in battle. Man, woman, child, we all pray to you; pity us and give us\ngood. Let us survive.'\n\n\"He then danced the pipe dance, to be described further on. At this time,\nanother storm had come up, and the thunder crashed directly over our heads.\n\n\"'Listen,' said the medicine man. 'It hears us. We are not doing this\nuselessly'; and he raised his face, animated with enthusiasm, toward the\nsky, his whole body trembling with excitement; and, holding the pipe aloft,\nrepeated his prayer. All the rest of the people were excited, and\nrepeatedly clasped their arms over their breasts, saying: 'Pity us; good\ngive us; good give us. Let us survive.'\n\n\"After this, the pipe was handed to a man on the right of the\nsemi-circle. Another warrior took a lighted brand from the fire, and\ncounted four _coups_, at the end of each _coup_ touching the pipe bowl with\nthe brand. When he had counted the fourth _coup_, the pipe was lighted. It\nwas then smoked in turn around the circle, each one, as he received it,\nrepeating a short prayer before he put the stem to his lips. When it was\nsmoked out, a hole was dug in the ground, the ashes were knocked into it\nand carefully covered over, and the thunder ceremony was ended.\"\n\nIn the year 1885, I was present at the unwrapping of the medicine pipe by\nRed Eagle, an aged _Ni-namp'-skan_ since dead. On this occasion prayers\nwere made for the success of a party of Piegans who had started in pursuit\nof some Crows who had taken a large band of horses from the Piegans the day\nbefore. The ceremony was a very impressive one, and prayers were offered\nnot only for the success of this war party, but also for the general good,\nas well as for the welfare of special individuals, who were mentioned by\nname. The concluding words of the general prayer were as follows: \"May all\npeople have full life. Give to all heavy bodies. Let the young people grow;\nincrease their flesh. Let all men, women, and children have full life.\nHarden the bodies of the old people so that they may reach great age.\"\n\nIn 1879, Mr. Schultz saw a sacred pipe unwrapped for the benefit of a sick\nwoman, and on various occasions since he has been present at this\nceremony. All accounts of what takes place agree so closely with what I saw\nthat I give only one of them. Mr. Schultz wrote me of the first occasion:\n\"When I entered the lodge, it was already well filled with men who had been\ninvited to participate in the ceremony. The medicine man was aged and\ngray-headed, and his feeble limbs could scarcely support his body. Between\nhim and his wife was the bundle which contained the medicine pipe, as yet\nunwrapped, lying on a carefully folded buffalo robe. Plates of food were\nplaced before each guest, and after all had finished eating, and a common\npipe had been lighted to be smoked around the circle, the ceremony began.\n\n\"With wooden tongs, the woman took a large coal from the fire, and laid it\non the ground in front of the sacred stem. Then, while every one joined in\nsinging a chant, a song of the buffalo (without words), she took a bunch of\ndried sweet grass, and, raising and lowering her hand in time to the music,\nfinally placed the grass on the burning coals. As the thin column of\nperfumed smoke rose from the burning herb, both she and the medicine man\ngrasped handfuls of it and rubbed it over their persons, to purify\nthemselves before touching the sacred roll. They also took each a small\npiece of some root from a little pouch, and ate it, signifying that they\npurified themselves without and within.\n\n\"The man and woman now faced each other and again began the buffalo song,\nkeeping time by touching with the clenched hands--the right and left\nalternately--the wrappings of the pipe, occasionally making the sign for\nbuffalo. Now, too, one could occasionally hear the word _Nai-ai'_[1] in\nthe song. After singing this song for about ten minutes, it was changed to\nthe antelope song, and, instead of touching the roll with the clenched\nhands, which represented the heavy tread of buffalo, they closed the hands,\nleaving the index finger extended and the thumbs partly open, and in time\nto the music, as in the previous song, alternately touched the wrappers\nwith the tips of the left and right forefinger, the motions being quick and\nfirm, and occasionally brought the hands to the side of the head, making\nthe sign for antelope, and at the same time uttering a loud '_Kuh'_ to\nrepresent the whistling or snorting of that animal.\n\n[Footnote 1: My shelter; my covering; my robe.]\n\n\"At the conclusion of this song, the woman put another bunch of sweet grass\non a coal, and carefully undid the wrappings of the pipe, holding each one\nover the smoke to keep it pure. When the last wrapping was removed, the man\ngently grasped the stem and, every one beginning the pipe song, he raised\nand lowered it several times, shaking it as he did so, until every feather\nand bit of fur and scalp hung loose and could be plainly seen.\n\n\"At this moment the sick woman entered the lodge, and with great\ndifficulty, for she was very weak, walked over to the medicine woman and\nknelt down before her. The medicine woman then produced a small bag of red\npaint, and painted a broad band across the sick woman's forehead, a stripe\ndown the nose, and a number of round dots on each cheek. Then picking up\nthe pipe stem, which the man had laid down, she held it up toward the sky\nand prayed, saying, 'Listen, Sun, pity us! Listen, Old Man, pity us! Above\nPeople, pity us! Under Water People, pity us! Listen, Sun! Listen, Sun! Let\nus survive, pity us! Let us survive. Look down on our sick daughter this\nday. Pity her and give her a complete life.' At the conclusion of this\nshort prayer, all the people uttered a loud _m-m-m-h_, signifying that they\ntook the words to their hearts. Every one now commenced the pipe song, and\nthe medicine woman passed the stem over different parts of the sick woman's\nbody, after which she rose and left the lodge.\n\n\"The medicine man now took a common pipe which had been lighted, and blew\nfour whiffs of smoke toward the sky, four toward the ground, and four on\nthe medicine pipe stem, and prayed to the Sun, Old Man, and all medicine\nanimals, to pity the people and give them long life. The drums were then\nproduced, the war song commenced, and the old man, with a rattle in each\nhand, danced four times to the door-way and back. He stooped slightly, kept\nall his limbs very rigid, extending his arms like one giving a benediction,\nand danced in time to the drumming and singing with quick, sudden\nsteps. This is the medicine pipe dance, which no one but a pipe-owner is\nallowed to perform. Afterward, he picked up the pipe stem, and, holding it\naloft in front of him, went through the same performance. At the\nconclusion of the dance, the pipe stem was passed from one to another of\nthe guests, and each one in turn held it aloft and repeated a short\nprayer. The man on my right prayed for the health of his children, the one\non my left for success in a proposed war expedition. This concluded the\nceremony.\"\n\nDisease among the Blackfeet is supposed to be caused by evil spirits,\nusually the spirits or ghosts of enemies slain in battle. These spirits are\nsaid to wander about at night, and whenever opportunity offers, they shoot\ninvisible arrows into persons. These cause various internal troubles, such\nas consumption, hemorrhages, and diseases of the digestive organs. Mice,\nfrogs, snakes, and tailed batrachians are said to cause much disease among\nwomen, and hence should be shunned, and on no account handled.\n\nLess important external ailments and hurts, such as ulcers, boils, sprains,\nand so on, are treated by applying various lotions or poultices, compounded\nby boiling or macerating certain roots or herbs, known only to the person\nsupplying them. Rheumatic pains are treated in several ways. Sometimes the\nsweat lodge is used, or hot rocks are applied over the place where the pain\nis most severe, or actual cautery is practised, by inserting prickly pear\nthorns in the flesh, and setting fire to them, when they burn to the very\npoint.\n\nThe sweat lodge, so often referred to, is used as a curative agent, as well\nas in religious ceremonies, and is considered very beneficial in illness of\nall kinds. The sweat lodge is built in the shape of a rough hemisphere,\nthree or four feet high and six or eight in diameter. The frame is usually\nof willow branches, and is covered with cow-skins and robes. In the centre\nof the floor, a small hole is dug out, in which are to be placed red hot\nstones. Everything being ready, those who are to take the sweat remove\ntheir clothing and crowd into the lodge. The hot rocks are then handed in\nfrom the fire outside, and the cowskins pulled down to the ground to\nexclude any cold air. If a medicine pipe man is not at hand, the oldest\nperson present begins to pray to the Sun, and at the same time sprinkles\nwater on the hot rocks, and a dense steam rises, making the perspiration\nfairly drip from the body. Occasionally, if the heat becomes too intense,\nthe covering is raised for a few minutes to admit a little air. The sweat\nbath lasts for a long time, often an hour or more, during which many\nprayers are offered, religious songs chanted, and several pipes smoked to\nthe Sun. As has been said, the sweat lodge is built to represent the Sun's\nown lodge or home, that is, the world. The ground inside the lodge stands\nfor its surface, which, according to Blackfoot philosophy, is flat and\nround. The framework represents the sky, which far off, on the horizon,\nreaches down to and touches the world.\n\nAs soon as the sweat is over, the men rush out, and plunge into the stream\nto cool off. This is invariably done, even in winter, when the ice has to\nbe broken to make a hole large enough to bathe in. It is said that, when\nthe small-pox was raging among these Indians, they used the sweat lodge\ndaily, and that hundreds of them, sick with the disease, were unable to get\nout of the river, after taking the bath succeeding a sweat, and were\ncarried down stream by the current and drowned.\n\nIt is said that wolves, which in former days were extremely numerous,\nsometimes went crazy, and bit every animal they met with, sometimes even\ncoming into camps and biting dogs, horses, and people. Persons bitten by a\nmad wolf generally went mad, too. They trembled and their limbs jerked,\nthey made their jaws work and foamed at the mouth, often trying to bite\nother people. When any one acted in this way, his relations tied him hand\nand foot with ropes, and, having killed a buffalo, they rolled him up in\nthe green hide, and then built a fire on and around him, leaving him in the\nfire until the hide began to dry and burn. Then they pulled him out and\nremoved the buffalo hide, and he was cured. While in the fire, the great\nheat caused him to sweat profusely, so much water coming out of his body\nthat none was left in it, and with the water the disease went out, too.\nAll the old people tell me that they have seen individuals cured in this\nmanner of a mad wolf's bite.\n\nWhenever a person is really sick, a doctor is sent for. Custom requires\nthat he shall be paid for his services before rendering them. So when he is\ncalled, the messenger says to him, \"A---- presents to you a horse, and\nasks you to come and doctor him.\" Sometimes the fee may be several horses,\nand sometimes a gun, saddle, or some article of wearing-apparel. This fee\npays only for one visit, but the duration of the visit is seldom less than\ntwelve hours, and sometimes exceeds forty-eight. If, after the expiration\nof the visit, the patient feels that he has been benefited, he will\nprobably send for the doctor again, but if, on the other hand, he continues\nto grow worse, he is likely to send for another. Not infrequently two or\nmore doctors may be present at the same time, taking turns with the\npatient. In early days, if a man fell sick, and remained so for three weeks\nor a month, he had to start anew in life when he recovered; for, unless\nvery wealthy, all his possessions had gone to pay doctor's fees. Often the\nlast horse, and even the lodge, weapons, and extra clothing were so parted\nwith. Of late years, however, since the disappearance of the buffalo, the\ndoctors' fees are much more moderate.\n\nThe doctor is named _I-so-kin-[)u]h-kin,_ a word difficult to\ntranslate. The nearest English meaning of the word seems to be \"heavy\nsinger for the sick.\" As a rule all doctors sing while endeavoring to work\ntheir cures, and, as helpers, a number of women are always present. Disease\nbeing caused by evil spirits, prayers, exhortations, and certain mysterious\nmethods must be observed to rid the patient of their influence. No two\ndoctors have the same methods or songs. Herbs are sometimes used, but not\nalways. One of their medicines is a great yellow fungus which grows on the\npine trees. This is dried and powdered, and administered either dry or in\nan infusion. It is a purgative. As a rule, these doctors, while practising\ntheir rites, will not allow any one in the lodge, except the immediate\nmembers of the sick man's family. Mr. Schultz, who on more than one\noccasion has been present at a doctoring, gives the following account of\none of the performances.\n\n\"The patient was a man in the last stages of consumption. When the doctor\nentered the lodge, he handed the sick man a strip of buckskin, and told him\nto tie it around his chest. The patient then reclined on a couch, stripped\nto the waist, and the doctor kneeled on the floor beside him. Having\ncleared a little space of the loose dirt and dust, the doctor took two\ncoals from the fire, laid them in this place, and put a pinch of dried\nsweet grass on each of them. As the smoke arose from the burning grass, he\nheld his drum over it, turning it from side to side, and round and\nround. This was supposed to purify it. Laying aside the drum, he held his\nhands in the smoke, and rubbed his arms and body with it. Then, picking up\nthe drum, he began to tap it rapidly, and prayed, saying: 'Listen, my\ndream. This you told me should be done. This you said should be the\nway. You said it would cure the sick. Help me now. Do not lie to me. Help\nme, Sun person. Help me to cure this sick man.'\n\n\"He then began to sing, and as soon as the women had caught the air, he\nhanded the drum to one of them to beat, and, still singing himself, took an\neagle's wing and dipped the tip of it in a cup of 'medicine.' It was a\nclear liquid, and looked as if it might be simply water. Placing the tip of\nthe wing in his mouth, he seemed to bite off the end of it, and, chewing it\na little, spat it out on the patient's breast. Then, in time to the\nsinging, he brushed it gently off, beginning at the throat and ending at\nthe lower ribs. This was repeated three times. Next he took the bandage\nfrom the patient, dipped it in the cup of medicine, and, wringing it out,\nplaced it on the sick man's chest, and rubbed it up and down, and back and\nforth, after which he again brushed the breast with the eagle\nwing. Finally, he lighted a pipe, and, placing the bowl in his mouth, blew\nthe smoke through the stem all over the patient's breast, shoulders, neck,\nand arms, and finished the ceremony by again brushing with the wing. At\nintervals of two or three hours, the whole ceremony was repeated. The\ndoctor arrived at the lodge of the sick man about noon, and left the next\nmorning, having received for his services a saddle and two blankets.\"\n\n\"Listen, my dream--\" This is the key to most of the Blackfoot medicine\npractices. These doctors for the most part effect their cures by\nprayer. Each one has his dream, or secret helper, to whom he prays for aid,\nand it is by this help that he expects to restore his patient to health. No\ndoubt the doctors have the fullest confidence that their practices are\nbeneficial, and in some cases they undoubtedly do good because of the\nimplicit confidence felt in them by the patient.\n\nOften, when a person is sick, he will ask some medicine man to unroll his\npipe. If able to dance, he will take part in the ceremony, but if not, the\nmedicine man paints him with the sacred symbols. In any case a fervent\nprayer is offered by the medicine man for the sick person's recovery. The\nmedicine man administers no remedies; the ceremony is purely\nreligious. Being a priest of the Sun, it is thought that god will be more\nlikely to listen to him than he would to an ordinary man.\n\nAlthough the majority of Blackfoot doctors are men, there are also many\nwomen in the guild, and some of them are quite noted for their\nsuccess. Such a woman, named Wood Chief Woman, is now alive on the\nBlackfoot reservation. She has effected many wonderful cures. Two Bear\nWoman is a good doctor, and there are many others.\n\nIn the case of gunshot wounds a man's \"dream,\" or \"medicine,\" often acts\ndirectly and speedily. Many cases are cited in which this charm, often the\nstuffed skin of some bird or animal, belonging to the wounded man, becomes\nalive, and by its power effects a cure. Many examples of this might be\ngiven but for lack of space. Entirely honest Indians and white men have\nseen such cures and believe in them.\n\n\n\nTHE BLACKFOOT OF TO-DAY\n\nIn the olden times the Blackfeet were very numerous, and it is said that\nthen they were a strong and hardy people, and few of them were ever\nsick. Most of the men who died were killed in battle, or died of old\nage. We may well enough believe that this was the case, because the\nconditions of their life in those primitive times were such that the weakly\nand those predisposed to any constitutional trouble would not survive early\nchildhood. Only the strongest of the children would grow up to become the\nparents of the next generation. Thus a process of selection was constantly\ngoing on, the effect of which was no doubt seen in the general health of\nthe people.\n\nWith the advent of the whites, came new conditions. Various special\ndiseases were introduced and swept off large numbers of the people. An\nimportant agent in their destruction was alcohol.\n\nIn the year 1845, the Blackfeet were decimated by the small-pox. This\ndisease appears to have travelled up the Missouri River; and in the early\nyears, between 1840 and 1850, it swept away hosts of Mandans, Rees, Sioux,\nCrows, and other tribes camped along the great river. I have been told, by\na man who was employed at Fort Union in 1842-43, that the Indians died\nthere in such numbers that the men of the fort were kept constantly at work\ndigging trenches in which to bury them, and when winter came, and the\nground froze so hard that it was no longer practicable to bury the dead,\ntheir bodies were stacked up like cord wood in great piles to await the\ncoming of spring. The disease spread from tribe to tribe, and finally\nreached the Blackfeet. It is said by whites who were in the country at the\ntime, that this small-pox almost swept the Plains bare of Indians.\n\nIn the winter of 1857-58, small-pox again carried off great numbers, but\nthe mortality was not to be compared with that of 1845. In 1864, measles\nran through all the Blackfoot camps, and was very fatal, and again in 1869\nthey had the small-pox.\n\nBetween the years 1860 and 1875, a great deal of whiskey was traded to the\nBlackfeet. Having once experienced the delights of intoxication, the\nIndians were eager for liquor, and the traders found that robes and furs\ncould be bought to better advantage for whiskey than for anything else. To\nbe sure, the personal risk to the trader was considerably increased by the\nsale of whiskey, for when drunk the Indians fought like demons among\nthemselves or with the traders. But, on the other hand, whiskey for\ntrading to Indians cost but a trifle, and could be worked up, and then\ndiluted, so that a little would go a long way.\n\nAs a measure of partial self-protection, the traders used to deal out the\nliquor from the keg or barrel in a tin scoop so constructed that it would\nnot stand on a flat surface, so that an Indian, who was drinking, had to\nkeep the vessel in his hand until the liquor was consumed, or else it would\nbe spilled and lost. This lessened the danger of any shooting or stabbing\nwhile the Indian was drinking, and an effort was usually made to get him\nout of the store as soon as he had finished. Nevertheless, drunken fights\nin the trading-stores were of common occurrence, and the life of a\nwhiskey-trader was one of constant peril. I have talked with many men who\nwere engaged in this traffic, and some of the stories they tell are\nthrilling. It was a common thing in winter for the man who unbarred and\nopened the store in the morning to have a dead Indian fall into his arms as\nthe door swung open. To prop up against the door a companion who had been\nkilled or frozen to death during the night seems to have been regarded by\nthe Indians as rather a delicate bit of humor, in the nature of a joke on\nthe trader. Long histories of the doings of these whiskey trading days have\nbeen related to me, but the details are too repulsive to be set down. The\ntraffic was very fatal to the Indians.\n\nThe United States has laws which prohibit, under severe penalties, the sale\nof intoxicants to Indians, but these laws are seldom enforced. To the north\nof the boundary line, however, in the Northwest Territories, the Canadian\nMounted Police have of late years made whiskey-trading perilous\nbusiness. Of Major Steell's good work in putting down the whiskey traffic\non the Blackfoot agency in Montana, I shall speak further on, and to-day\nthere is not very much whiskey sold to the Blackfeet. Constant vigilance is\nneeded, however, to keep traders from the borders of the reservation.\n\nIn the winter of 1883-84 more than a quarter of the Piegan tribe of the\nBlackfeet, which then numbered about twenty-five or twenty-six hundred,\ndied from starvation. It had been reported to the Indian Bureau that the\nBlackfeet were practically self-supporting and needed few supplies. As a\nconsequence of this report, appropriations for them were small. The\nstatement was entirely and fatally misleading. The Blackfeet had then\nnever done anything toward self-support, except to kill buffalo. But just\nbefore this, in the year 1883, the buffalo had been exterminated from the\nBlackfoot country. In a moment, and without warning, the people had been\ndeprived of the food supply on which they had depended. At once they had\nturned their attention to the smaller game, and, hunting faithfully the\nriver bottoms, the brush along the small streams, and the sides of the\nmountains, had killed off all the deer, elk, and antelope; and at the\nbeginning of the winter found themselves without their usual stores of\ndried meat, and with nothing to depend on, except the scanty supplies in\nthe government storehouse. These were ridiculously inadequate to the wants\nof twenty-five hundred people, and food could be issued to them only in\ndriblets quite insufficient to sustain life. The men devoted themselves\nwith the utmost faithfulness to hunting, killing birds, rabbits,\nprairie-dogs, rats, anything that had life; but do the best they might, the\npeople began to starve. The very old and the very young were the first to\nperish; after that, those who were weak and sickly, and at last some even\namong the strong and hardy. News of this suffering was sent East, and\nCongress ordered appropriations to relieve the distress; but the supplies\nhad to be freighted in wagons for one hundred and fifty or two hundred\nmiles before they were available. If the Blackfeet had been obliged to\ndepend on the supplies authorized by the Indian Bureau, the whole tribe\nmight have perished, for the red tape methods of the Government are not\nadapted to prompt and efficient action in times of emergency. Happily, help\nwas nearer at hand. The noble people of Montana, and the army officers\nstationed at Fort Shaw, did all they could to get supplies to the\nsufferers. One or two Montana contractors sent on flour and bacon, on the\npersonal assurance of the newly appointed agent that he would try to have\nthem paid. But it took a long time to get even these supplies to the\nagency, over roads sometimes hub deep in mud, or again rough with great\nmasses of frozen clay; and all the time the people were dying.\n\nDuring the winter, Major Allen had been appointed agent for the Blackfeet,\nand he reached the agency in the midst of the worst suffering, and before\nany effort had been made to relieve it. He has told me a heart-rending\nstory of the frightful suffering which he found among these helpless\npeople.\n\nIn his efforts to learn exactly what was their condition, Major Allen one\nday went into twenty-three houses and lodges to see for himself just what\nthe Indians had to eat. In only two of these homes did he find anything in\nthe shape of food. In one house a rabbit was boiling in a pot. The man had\nkilled it that morning, and it was being cooked for a starving child. In\nanother lodge, the hoof of a steer was cooking,--only the hoof,--to make\nsoup for the family. Twenty-three lodges Major Allen visited that day, and\nthe little rabbit and the steer's hoof were all the food he found. \"And\nthen,\" he told me, with tears in his eyes, \"I broke down. I could go no\nfurther. To see so much misery, and feel myself utterly powerless to\nrelieve it, was more than I could stand.\"\n\nMajor Allen had calculated with exactest care the supplies on hand, and at\nthis time was issuing one-seventh rations. The Indians crowded around the\nagency buildings and begged for food. Mothers came to the windows and held\nup their starving babies that the sight of their dull, pallid faces, their\nshrunken limbs, and their little bones sticking through their skins might\nmove some heart to pity. Women brought their young daughters to the white\nmen in the neighborhood, and said, \"Here, you may have her, if you will\nfeed her; I want nothing for myself; only let her have enough to eat, that\nshe may not die.\" One day, a deputation of the chiefs came to Major Allen,\nand asked him to give them what he had in his storehouses. He explained to\nthem that it must be some time before the supplies could get there, and\nthat only by dealing out what he had with the greatest care could the\npeople be kept alive until provisions came. But they said: \"Our women and\nchildren are hungry, and we are hungry. Give us what you have, and let us\neat once and be filled. Then we will die content; we will not beg any\nmore.\" He took them into the storehouse, and showed them just what food he\nhad,--how much flour, how much bacon, how much rice, coffee, sugar, and so\non through the list--and then told them that if this was issued all at\nonce, there was no hope for them, they would surely die, but that he\nexpected supplies by a certain day. \"And,\" said he, \"if they do not come by\nthat time, you shall come in here and help yourselves. That I promise\nyou.\" They went away satisfied.\n\nMeanwhile, the supplies were drawing near. The officer in command of Fort\nShaw had supplied fast teams to hurry on a few loads to the agency, but the\nroads were so bad that the wagon trains moved with appalling slowness. At\nlength, however, they had advanced so far that it was possible to send out\nlight teams, to meet the heavily laden ones, and bring in a few sacks of\nflour and bacon; and every little helped. Gradually the suffering was\nrelieved, but the memory of that awful season of famine will never pass\nfrom the minds of those who witnessed it.\n\nThere is a record of between four and five hundred Indians who died of\nhunger at this time, and this includes only those who were buried in the\nimmediate neighborhood of the agency and for whom coffins were made. It is\nprobable that nearly as many more died in the camps on other creeks, but\nthis is mere conjecture. It is no exaggeration to say, however, that from\none-quarter to one-third of the Piegan tribe starved to death during that\nwinter and the following spring.\n\nThe change from living in portable and more or less open lodges to\npermanent dwellings has been followed by a great deal of illness, and at\npresent the people appear to be sickly, though not so much so as some other\ntribes I have known, living under similar conditions further south.\n\nLike other Indians, the Blackfeet have been several times a prey to bad\nagents,--men careless of their welfare, who thought only about drawing\ntheir own pay, or, worse, who used their positions simply for their own\nenrichment, and stole from the government and Indians alike everything upon\nwhich they could lay hands. It was with great satisfaction that I secured\nthe discharge of one such man a few years ago, and I only regret that it\nwas not in my power to have carried the matter so far that he might have\nspent a few years in prison.\n\nThe present agent of the Blackfeet, Major George Steell, is an old-timer in\nthe country and understands Indians very thoroughly. In one respect, he has\ndone more for this people than any other man who has ever had charge of\nthem, for he has been an uncompromising enemy of the whiskey traffic, and\nhas relentlessly pursued the white men who always gather about an agency to\nsell whiskey to the Indians, and thus not only rob them of their\npossessions, but degrade them as well. The prison doors of Deer Lodge have\nmore than once opened to receive men sent there through the energy of Major\nSteell. For the good work he has done in this respect, this gentleman\ndeserves the highest credit, and he is a shining example among Indian\nagents.\n\nAs recently as 1887 it was rather unusual to see a Blackfoot Indian clad in\nwhite men's clothing; the only men who wore coats and trousers were the\npolice and a few of the chiefs; to-day it is quite as unusual to see an\nIndian wearing a blanket. Not less striking than this difference in their\nway of life, is the change which has taken place in the spirit of the\ntribe.\n\nI was passing through their reservation in 1888, when the chiefs asked me\nto meet them in council and listen to what they had to say.\n\nI learned that they wished to have a message taken to the Great Father in\nthe East, and, after satisfying myself that their complaint was well\ngrounded, I promised to do for them what I could. I accomplished what they\ndesired, and since that time I have taken much active interest in this\npeople, and my experience with them has shown me very clearly how much may\nbe accomplished by the unaided efforts of a single individual who\nthoroughly understands the needs of a tribe of Indians. During my annual\nvisits to the Blackfeet reservation, which have extended over two, three,\nor four months each season, I see a great many of the men and have long\nconversations with them. They bring their troubles to me, asking what they\nshall do, and how their condition may be improved. They tell me what things\nthey want, and why they think they ought to have them. I listen, and talk\nto them just as if they were so many children. If their requests are\nunreasonable, I try to explain to them, step by step, why it is not best\nthat what they desire should be done, or tell them that other things which\nthey ask for seem proper, and that I will do what I can to have them\ngranted. If one will only take the pains necessary to make things clear to\nhim, the adult Indian is a reasonable being, but it requires patience to\nmake him understand matters which to a white man would need no\nexplanation. As an example, let me give the substance of a conversation had\nlast autumn with a leading man of the Piegans who lives on Cut Bank River,\nabout twenty-five miles from the agency. He said to me:--\n\n\"We ought to have a storehouse over here on Cut Bank, so that we will not\nbe obliged each week to go over to the agency to get our food. It takes us\na day to go, and a day to come, and a day there; nearly three days out of\nevery week to get our food. When we are at work cutting hay, we cannot\nafford to spend so much time travelling back and forth. We want to get our\ncrops in, and not to be travelling about all the time. It would be a good\nthing, too, to have a blacksmith shop here, so that when our wagons break\ndown, we will not have to go to the agency to get them mended.\"\n\nThis is merely the substance of a much longer speech, to which I replied by\na series of questions, something like the following:--\n\n\"Do you remember talking to me last year, and telling me on this same spot\nthat you ought to have beef issued to you here, and ought not to have to\nmake the long journey to the agency for your meat?\" \"Yes.\"\n\n\"And that I told you I agreed with you, and believed that some of the\nsteers could just as well be killed here by the agency herder and issued to\nthose Indians living near here?\" \"Yes.\"\n\n\"That change has been made, has it not? You now get your beef here, don't\nyou?\" \"Yes.\"\n\n\"You know that the Piegans have a certain amount of money coming to them\nevery year, don't you?\" \"Yes.\"\n\n\"And that some of that money goes to pay the expenses of the agency, some\nfor food, some to pay clerks and blacksmiths, some to buy mowing-machines,\nwagons, harness, and rakes, and some to buy the cattle which have been\nissued to you?\" \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Now, if a government storehouse were to be built over here, clerks hired\nto manage it, a blacksmith shop built and another blacksmith hired, that\nwould all cost money, wouldn't it?\" \"Yes.\"\n\n\"And that money would be taken out of the money coming next year to the\nPiegans, wouldn't it?\" \"Yes.\"\n\n\"And if that money were spent for those things, the people would have just\nso many fewer wagons, mowing-machines, rakes, and cattle issued to them\nnext year, wouldn't they?\" \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Well, which would be best for the tribe, which would you rather have, a\nstore and a blacksmith shop here on Cut Bank, or the money which those\nthings would cost in cows and farming implements?\"\n\n\"I would prefer that we should have the cattle and the tools.\"\n\n\"I think you are right. It would save trouble to each man, if the\ngovernment would build a storehouse for him right next his house, but it\nwould be a waste of money. Many white men have to drive ten, twenty, or\nthirty miles to the store, and you ought not to complain if you have to do\nso.\"\n\nAfter this conversation the man saw clearly that his request was an\nunreasonable one, but if I had merely told him that he was a fool to want a\nstore on Cut Bank, he would never have been satisfied, for his experiences\nwere so limited that he could not have reasoned the thing out for himself.\n\nIn my talks with these people, I praise those who have worked hard and\nlived well during the past year, while to those who have been idle or\ndrunken or have committed crimes, I explain how foolish their course has\nbeen and try to show them how impossible it is for a man to be successful\nif he acts like a child, and shows that he is a person of no sense. A\nlittle quiet talk will usually demonstrate to them that they have been\nunwise, and they make fresh resolutions and promise amendment. Of course\nthe only argument I use is to tell them that one course will be for their\nmaterial advancement, and is the way a white man would act, while the other\nwill tend to keep them always poor.\n\nSome years ago, the Blackfeet made a new treaty, by which they sold to the\ngovernment a large portion of their lands. By this treaty, which was\nratified by Congress in May, 1887, they are to receive $150,000 annually\nfor a period of ten years, when government support is to be withdrawn. This\nsum is a good deal more than is required for their subsistence, and, by the\nterms of the treaty, the surplus over what is required for their food and\nclothing is to be used in furnishing to the Indians farming implements,\nseed, live stock, and such other things as will help them to become\nself-supporting.\n\nThe country which the Blackfeet inhabit lies just south of the parallel of\n49\u00b0, close to the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and is very cold and\ndry. Crops can be grown there successfully not more than once in four or\nfive years, and the sole products to be depended on are oats and potatoes,\nwhich are raised only by means of irrigation. It is evident, therefore,\nthat the Piegan tribe of the Blackfeet can never become an agricultural\npeople. Their reservation, however, is well adapted to stock-raising, and\nin past years the cattlemen from far and from near have driven their herds\non to the reservation to eat the Blackfoot grass; and the remonstrances of\nthe Indians have been entirely disregarded. Some years ago, I came to the\nconclusion that the proper occupation for these Indians was\nstock-raising. Horses they already had in some numbers, but horses are not\nso good for them as cattle, because horses are more readily sold than\ncattle, and an Indian is likely to trade his horse for whiskey and other\nuseless things. Cattle they are much less likely to part with, and besides\nthis, require more attention than horses, and so are likely to keep the\nIndians busy and to encourage them to work.\n\nWithin the past three or four years, I have succeeded in inducing the\nIndian Bureau to employ a part of the treaty money coming to the Blackfeet\nin purchasing for them cattle.\n\nIt was impressed upon them that they must care for the cattle, not kill and\neat any of them, but keep them for breeding purposes. It was represented to\nthem that, if properly cared for, the cattle would increase each year,\nuntil a time might come when each Indian would be the possessor of a herd,\nand would then be rich like the white cattlemen.\n\nThe severe lesson of starvation some years before had not failed to make an\nimpression, and it was perhaps owing to this terrible experience that the\nPiegans did not eat the cows as soon as they got them, as other Indian\ntribes have so often done. Instead of this, each man took the utmost care\nof the two or three heifers he received. Little shelters and barns were\nbuilt to protect them during the winter. Indians who had never worked\nbefore, now tried to borrow a mowing-machine, so as to put up some hay for\ntheir animals. The tribe seemed at once to have imbibed the idea of\nproperty, and each man was as fearful lest some accident should happen to\nhis cows as any white man might have been. Another issue of cattle was\nmade, and the result is that now there is hardly an individual in the tribe\nwho is not the possessor of one or more cows. Scarcely any of the issued\ncattle have been eaten; there has been almost no loss from lack of care;\nthe original stock has increased and multiplied, and now the Piegans have a\npretty fair start in cattle.\n\nThis material advancement is important and encouraging. But richer still\nis the promise for the future. A few years ago, the Blackfeet were all\npaupers, dependent on the bounty of the government and the caprice of the\nagent. Now, they feel themselves men, are learning self-help and\nself-reliance, and are looking forward to a time when they shall be\nself-supporting. If their improvement should be as rapid for the next five\nyears as it has been for the five preceding 1892, a considerable portion of\nthe tribe will be self-supporting at the date of expiration of the treaty.\n\nIt is commonly believed that the Indian is hopelessly lazy, and that he\nwill do no work whatever. This misleading notion has been fostered by the\nwritings of many ignorant people, extending over a long period of time. The\nerror had its origin in the fact that the work which the savage Indian does\nis quite different from that performed by the white laborer. But it is\ncertain that no men ever worked harder than Indians on a journey to war,\nduring which they would march on foot hundreds of miles, carrying heavy\nloads on their backs, then have their fight, or take their horses, and\nperhaps ride for several days at a stretch, scarcely stopping to eat or\nrest. That they did not labor regularly is of course true, but when they\ndid work, their toil was very much harder than that ever performed by the\nwhite man.\n\nThe Blackfeet now are willing to work in the same way that the white man\nworks. They appreciate, as well as any one, the fact that old things have\npassed away, and that they must now adapt themselves to new surroundings.\nTherefore, they work in the hay fields, tend stock, chop logs in the\nmountains, haul firewood, drive freighting teams, build houses and fences,\nand, in short, do pretty much all the work that would be done by an\nordinary ranchman. They do not perform it so well as white men would; they\nare much more careless in their handling of tools, wagons, mowing-machines,\nor other implements, but they are learning all the time, even if their\nprogress is slow.\n\nThe advance toward civilization within the past five years is very\nremarkable and shows, as well as anything could show, the adaptability of\nthe Indian. At the same time, I believe that if it had not been for that\nfateful experience known as \"the starvation winter,\" the progress made by\nthe Blackfeet would have been very much less than it has been. The Indian\nrequires a bitter lesson to make him remember.\n\nBut besides this lesson, which at so terrible a cost demonstrated to him\nthe necessity of working, there has been another factor in the progress of\nthe Blackfoot. If he has learned the lesson of privation and suffering, the\nrecord given in these pages has shown that he is not less ready to respond\nto encouragement, not less quickened and sustained by friendly\nsympathy. Without such encouragement he will not persevere. If his crops\nfail him this year, he has no heart to plant the next. A single failure\nbrings despair. Yet if he is cheered and helped, he will make other\nefforts. The Blackfeet have been thus sustained; they have felt that there\nwas an inducement for them to do well, for some one whom they trusted was\ninterested in their welfare, was watching their progress, and was trying to\nhelp them. They knew that this person had no private interest to serve, but\nwished to do the best that he could for his people. Having an exaggerated\nidea of his power to aid them, they have tried to follow his advice, so as\nto obtain his good-will and secure his aid with the government. Thus they\nhave had always before them a definite object to strive for.\n\nThe Blackfoot of to-day is a working man. He has a little property which he\nis trying to care for and wishes to add to. With a little help, with\ninstruction, and with encouragement to persevere, he will become in the\nnext few years self-supporting, and a good citizen.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\nAbove Persons,\nAdoption of captives,\nAdultery, penalty for,\nAdventure, Stories of,\nAdventures of Bull Turns Round,\nAffirmation, solemn form of,\n_Ah-kaik'-sum-iks_\n_Ah-kai-yi-ko-ka'-kin-iks,_\n_Ah-kai'-po-kaks_\n_Ah-kwo'-nis-tsists,_\n_Ahk-o'-tash-iks,_\nAhk-sa'-ke-wah,\n_Ah'pai-tup-iks,_\n_Ai-sik'-stuk-iks,_\nA[=i]-sin'-o-ko-ki,\n_Ai'-so-yim-stan,_\nAlcohol, agent of destruction,\nAlgonquin myth,\nAlgonquin tribes,\nAll-are-his-children,\nAll Comrades,\nAll Crazy Dogs,\nAllen, Major,\nAll-face man,\nAlmost-a-Dog,\n_Amelanchier alnifolia_,\n_American Anthropologist_,\nAmerican Hero Myths,\nAncient customs dying out,\nAncient Times, Stories of,\nAnimals, birth of,\n  creation of,\nAnimal powers,\nAnimal powers and signs,\nAnimals to be food,\nAntelope, method of taking,\n  song,\n  where created,\n_Anthropologist, American_\n_A'pi,_\n_Ap'-i-kai-yiks,_\nAp'i-kunni,\nApi-su'-ahts,\n_Ap-ut'-o-si-kai-nah,_\nArmells Creek,\nArrows,\nAssinaboines (tribe),\nA'-tsi-tsi,\nAuthority of \"sits beside him\" woman,\nA-wah-heh',\n\nBack fat (of buffalo),\n  Creek,\nBad Weapons, The,\nBad Wife, The,\nBadger,\nBadger Creek,\nBags,\nBasins,\nBattle near Cypress Mountains,\nBear,\nBears, The\nBeaver, how taken,\n  Creek,\n  Indians,\n  Medicine, The,\n  song,\nBelly River,\n  Buttes,\nBelt,\nBerries created,\nBerry of the red willow,\nBig Eagle,\nBig Nose,\nBig Topknots,\nBighorn, where created\nBirch tree\nBird, Thomas\nBirds created\nBirth of the animals\nBiters\nBitter-root\nBlack Elks (Blackfoot gens)\n  (Blood gens)\nBlackfat Roasters\nBlackfeet\n  as known to the whites\nBlackfoot\n  cosmology\n  country, boundaries of\n  Crossing\n  Genesis, The\n  in War, The\nBlack Doors\nBlack Patched Moccasins\nBlood (tribe)\nBlood People\nBoiling meat\nBow River\nBowls of stone\nBows\nBox Elder Creek\nBoys, advice to\nBrave (band of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi),_\nBravery held in high esteem\n  proofs of required\nBraves, duties of\nBraves' society\nBrinton, Dr.\nBrush created\nBuckets\nBuffalo\n  bringing to camp\n  corral of Cheyennes\n  created\n  driven over cliffs\n  Dung (gens)\n  eating the people\n  hunting disguised\n  hidden\n  slaughter, modern\n  value of to the people\n  surrounding\nBuffalo Lip Butte\nBuffalo Rock, The\n  what it is\nBuffalo song\nBull bats\nBull berries\nBulls\nBulls' society\nBunch of lodges\nBurial\nButtes created\n\nCamas\n  root, how prepared\nCamp arranged in circle\nCamp, order of moving\nCanadian mounted police\nCasey, Lieutenant\nCatchers\nCattle issued\nCause of disease.\nCentre post of Medicine Lodge\nCeremony of Medicine Lodge\n  of unwrapping pipe-stem\nCheyennes\n  buffalo corral of\nChickadee\nChief\nChildren in lodge\n  sports of\n  training of\nChildren, The Lost\nChippeways\nChippeweyans\nChinook winds\nChoke-cherries, how prepared\nClark (W.P.)\nClay images, of buffalo\n  in human shape\nClot of blood\nClothing\n  made of buffalo hide\nCold Maker\nConfederation of three tribes\nCorral of Cheyennes, buffalo\nCosmology, Blackfoot\nCounting _coup_\n  _coup_ at Medicine Lodge\nCountry of the Blackfoot\n_Coup_, _et seq_.\n  among Blackfeet.\n  different tribes.\n  counting, in early times.\n\"Covering\" the slain.\nCowardice, penalty for.\nCoyotes, how taken.\nCreation, _et seq_.\nCreator.\nCree (tribe), _et seq_.\nCrimes to be punished.\nCrops in Blackfoot country.\nCrow (tribe).\nCups, how made.\nCuster, General, xiv.\nCustoms, ancient, dying out.\nCustoms, Daily Life and.\nCut Bank River.\nCutting rawhide for Medicine Lodge.\nCypress Mountains.\nDaily Life and Customs.\nDance, medicine pipe.\n  young women's.\nDawson, Mrs. Thomas, xiv.\nDead return to life.\nDeath, origin of.\nDeer, how taken.\nDeer Lodge.\nDiet.\nDisease.\nDiseases introduced by whites.\nDishes.\nDivorce.\nDoctors.\nDog and the Stick, The.\nDogs beasts of burden, _et seq_.\n  killed at grave.\n  not eaten.\nDogs Naked.\nDon't Laugh band.\nDouble Runner, vii, xv.\nDoves.\nDream helper, _et seq_.\n  originates war party.\n  person, _et seq_.\nDreaming for power, _et seq_.\nDreams, 3 _et seq_..\n  belief in.\nDress.\nDried meat.\nDried Meat (gens).\nDwelling.\nDuties of first wife.\nEagle catching.\n  songs.\n  lodge.\nEarly Finished Eating.\nRiser.\n  wars bloodless.\nEar-rings.\nEggs of waterfowl, how cooked.\n_[=E]-in'-a-ke_.\nE-kus'-kini, _et seq_.\nElbow river.\nElk, how taken.\n  The.\n  tushes.\nElkhorn arrow.\nElk River.\nElopement.\n_E'-mi-tah-pahk-sai-yiks,_.\n_E'-mi-taks,_.\n_Esk'-sin-ai-t[)u]p-iks,_.\n_Esk'-sin-i-t[)u]ppiks_.\n_[)E]ts-k[=a]i'-nah,_.\nEveryday life, _et seq_.\nFamily names.\nFast of Medicine Lodge woman.\nFast Runners, The.\nFat Roasters.\nFeast, invitations to.\nFeasting in the camps.\nFighting between Bloods and Piegans.\nFire, how obtained.\n  carried.\nFirst killing in war.\n  mauls.\n  medicine pipe.\n  people.\n  pis'kun.\n  scalping.\n  shelter to sleep under.\n  stone knives.\nFish.\n  hooks.\nFish spears,\nFlat Bows,\nFlatheads,\nFlesh of animals eaten,\nFleshers, how made,\nFlint and steel,\nFolk-lore,\nFood of war party,\n_Forest and Stream_,\nFort Conrad,\n  McLeod,\n  Pitt,\n  Union,\nFour Bears,\nFox, The,\nFox-eye,\nFrogs,\nFungus for punk,\nFur animals, how caught,\nFuture life,\n\nGambling,\nGame, hidden,\n  in Blackfoot country,\nGame played by prairie dogs,\nGenesis, The Blackfoot,\nGentes of the Blackfeet,\n  Bloods,\n  Kai'nah,\n  Piegans,\n  Pi-k[)u]n'i,\n  Sik'si-kau,\n  now extinct,\nGhost,\n  bear,\n  country,\n  Woman, Heavy Collar and The,\nGhosts,\nGhosts' Buffalo, The,\nGhosts, camp of the,\nGirls, carefully guarded,\n  instructed,\n  outfit for marriage,\nGirl stolen,\nGown of women,\nGrasshoppers,\nGrease on red willow bark,\nGreat Bear (constellation),\n  Falls,\nGrizzly Bear,\nGrooved arrow shafts,\nGros Ventres,\nGround Man,\nGround Man (of Cheyennes),\nGround Persons,\n\nHair, care of,\n  mode of wearing,\nHandles of knives,\n\"Hands,\"\nHats of antelope skin,\nHead chief, how chosen,\nHeavy Collar,\n  and the Ghost Woman,\n  Runner,\nHelp from animals,\nHill where Old Man sleeps,\nHorned toad,\nHorns,\nHorses cause of war,\n  killed at grave,\n  when obtained,\nHow the Blackfoot lived,\nHunting,\n  alone punished,\nHusband's personal rights in wife,\n  power over wife,\n  property rights in wife,\n\n_I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_,\n  origin of,\nImplements of the dead,\n  made of buffalo hide,\nIndian a man,\n  sign language,\n  tobacco,\nIndians and their Stories,\n  Beaver,\n  general ignorance about,\nInfants lost,\n_I-nis'-kim_,\n_In-uhk'-so-yi-stam-iks_,\n_I-nuk-si'-kah-ko-pwa-iks_,\n_I-nuks'-iks_,\nInvitation to feasts,\n_I'-pok-si-maiks_,\n_I-sis'-o-kas-im-iks_,\n_I-so-kin'-uh-kin_,\n_Is'-sui_,\n_Is-ti'-kai-nah_\n\"It fell on them\" creek,\n_It-se'-wah,_\n\nJackson, William,\n\n_Kah'-mi-taiks_\nKai'-nah,\nKalispels,\nKettles of stone,\nKill Close By,\nKipp, Joseph,\nKit-fox,\nKit-fox (society),\nKit-foxes,\n_Ki'-yis,_\n_Knats-o-mi'-ta,_\nKnives of stone,\nKo-ko-mik'-e-is,\nKom-in'-a-kus,\n_Ksik-si-num'_\n_Kuk-kuiks'_\n_Kut'-ai-[=i]m-iks,_\n_Kut-ai-sot'-si-man,_\nKutenais,\nKut-o'-yis,\n\nLadles of horn,\n  of wood,\n_Lari p[=u]k'[=u]s_\nLesser Slave Lake,\n_L'herbe_,\nLiars,\nLife among the Blackfeet,\nLittle Birds,\nLittle Blackfoot,\n\"Little Slaves,\"\nLizards,\nLodge for dreaming,\n  of stone,\nLodges, ancient,\n  how made,\n  decoration of,\n  of chiefs of the _I-kun-uk'-kak-tsi,_\nLone Eaters,\n  Fighters,\n  Medicine Person,\nLong Tail Lodge Poles,\nLost Children, The,\nLost Woman, The,\nLow Horn,\n\nMad Wolf,\nMaker, the,\nMandans,\nMan-eater,\nMany Children,\n  Lodge Poles,\n  Horses,\n  Medicines,\nMarch of the camp,\n  of war party,\nMarriage, girl's outfit for,\n  how arranged,\n  of important people,\n  poorer people,\n  prerequisites for,\n  prohibited within gens,\n_Ma-stoh'-pah-ta-kiks,_\nMaterial advancement,\n_Mats_,\nMauls,\n  how made,\nMeasles,\nMedicine leggings,\nMedicine Lodge, the,\n  man,\n  Pipes and Healing,\n  rock of the Marias,\n  woman,\nMexico,\n_Mi-ah-wah'-pit-siks,_\n_Mi-aw'-kin-ai-yiks_\nMik-a'pi,\nMiles, General,\nMilk River,\nMissouri River,\n_Mis-tai'_\nMoccasins,\n_Mo-k[)u]m'-iks,_\nMonroe, Hugh,\n  John,\nMorning Star,\nMosquitoes,\n_Mo-tah'-tos-iks_\nMother-in-law, meeting,\n  not to be spoken to,\n_Mo-twai'-naiks_\nMountains created,\nMourning,\n  chant,\n  for the dead,\nMuddy River,\nMurder, penalty for\nMusselshell River,\n_M[)u]t'-siks_,\n\n_Na-ahks'_,\n_Nai-ai'_,\nName, changing,\n  unwillingness to speak,\n_Namp'-ski_,\n_Na'-pi_,\n_Nat-[=o]s'_,\n_Nat-o'-ye_,\n_Na-wuh'-to-ski_,\nNecklaces,\nNew Mexico,\nNight red light,\n_Ni-kis'-ta_,\n_Nimp'-sa_,\n_Ni'-nah_,\n_Ni-namp'-skan_,\n_Nin'-nah_,\n_Nin'-sta_,\n_Ni'-po-m[=u]k-i_,\n_Nis'-ah_,\n_Ni-sis'-ah_,\nNis-kum'-iks,\n_Nis-k[=u]n'_,\n_Nis-t[=u]m-o'_,\n_Nit-t[=u]m-o'-kun_,\n_Nit'-ak-os-kit-si-pup-iks_,\n_Ni-taw'-yiks_,\n_Nit'-ik-skiks_,\n_Nit-o-k[=e]-man_,\n_Ni-tot'-o-ke-man_,\n_Ni-tot'-si-ksis-stan-iks_,\n_Nits'-i-san_,\n_Nits-o'-kan_,\n_Ni-tun'_,\nNo parfleche,\n_No-ko'-i_,\n_No'-ma_,\nNorth Bloods,\nNorth, Major,\nNorth Saskatchewan River,\nNorthwest Territories,\nNumber of wives,\n\nOath, Indian,\nObstinate (gens),\nOffice not hereditary,\nOjibwas,\n_Ok-wi-tok-so-ka_,\nOld Man,\n  and the Lynx,\n  character of,\n  disappearance of,\n  Doctors,\n  known to other tribes,\n  makes first weapons,\n  makes fire sticks,\n  sleeps, hill where,\n  Stories of,\nOld Man's predictions,\n  River,\n  Sliding Ground,\nOrigin of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_,\n  medicine pipe,\n  worm pipe,\nOrpheus and Eurydice,\nOther game,\nOwl Bear,\nOwls ghosts of medicine men,\nOwner's seat in lodge,\n\nPaints,\nParfleche soles of moccasins,\nPast and the Present, The,\nPawnee _coups_,\n  Hero Stories and Folk Tales,\nPawnees,\nPeace with Gros Ventres broken,\n  the Snakes, The,\nPemmican,\nPenalty for adultery,\n  for cowardice,\n  for murder,\n  for theft,\n  for treachery,\nPenances,\nPend d'Oreille,\nPeople created,\n_Phrynosoma_,\nPhysical characteristics,\nPictographs of _coups_,\nPiegans,\nPi-kun'i,\n_Pi-n[)u]t-u'-ye is-tsim'-o-kan_,\nPipe dance, medicine,\n  of the Soldier Society,\n  stems,\nPipes, material of,\nPis'kun,\n  etymology of,\n  bringing buffalo to,\n  how constructed,\n  of the Blackfeet,\n  of the Crees,\n  of the Sik'-si-kau,\n_Pis-tsi-ko'-an_,\nPlaces chosen for dreaming,\nPlants, medical properties of,\nPlunder from the south,\n_Pomme blanche_,\nPottery,\nPower, dreaming for,\n  of herbs,\n  to bring on storms,\nPowers, animal,\nPrayers,\n  in sweat house,\n  to the Thunder,\nPreparations for burial,\n  for dreaming,\n  for the attack,\n  for war parties,\nPresents to husband from father-in-law,\n  to the sun,\nProduct of the buffalo,\nProperty buried with dead,\n  of Brave Society,\n  of deceased, disposition of,\n_Psoralea esculenta_,\n_Puh-ksi-nah'-mah-yiks_,\n_Puk'-sah-tchis_,\nPunishment for hunting alone,\n  for infidelity,\n  for stealing tobacco,\nPunk,\n_P[=u]n'-o-ts[)i]-hyo_,\nPurification by smoke,\n\nQuarrels between the three tribes,\n\nRabid Wolf,\n  wolves,\nRabies, cure for,\nRace, the,\nRaven Band of the _I-k[)u]n-uh'-kah-tsi_,\n  Bearers,\n  Carriers,\nRavens,\nRed Deer's River,\n  Eagle,\n  Old Man,\n  River half-breeds,\n  Round Robes,\nReligion,\nRiver, Badger,\n  Belly,\n  Big,\n  Bow,\n  Elbow,\n  Elk,\n  Milk,\n  Missouri,\n  Muddy,\n  North Saskatchewan,\n  Old Man's,\n  Peace,\n  person,\n  Red Deer's,\n  Saskatchewan,\n  St. Mary's,\n  Teton,\n  Yellowstone,\nRoasting meat,\nRobes,\nRock, The,\nRoot-digger,\nRoss, Miss Cora M.,\nRound,\nRunning Rabbit,\nRussell, William,\n\nSacks,\nSacred bundles, where kept,\nSacred objects,\n  things connected with eagle catching,\nSacrifice,\nSacrifices to sun,\n  of war party,\n_Sai'-yiks_,\n_Sak-si-nak'-mah-yiks_,\nSalt,\nSand Hills,\nSarcees,\nSarvis berries,\n  Berry Creek,\nSaskatchewan River,\nSaskatoon Creek,\nScarface,\nSchultz, J.W.,\nScout of war party,\nScreech Owl,\nSeats in lodge,\nSecret helper,\nSeeking the Sun's Lodge,\n  Thunder's Lodge,\nSeldom Lonesome,\nSelf-torturings in Medicine Lodge,\nServants,\nSeven Persons,\nSeven Persons Creek,\nShadow,\nShelter for war party,\n  to sleep under,\n_Shepherdia argentea_,\nShort Bows,\nSign language,\nSigns,\nSigns and powers of animals,\n_Sik-o-kit-sim-iks_.\n_Sik-o-pok'-si-maiks_.\nSik'-si-kau,\n_Siks-ah'-pun-iks_,\n_Siks-in'-o-kaks_ (Blackfoot),\n  (Blood),\n_Sik-ut'-si-pum-aiks_,\n_Sin'-o-pah_,\nSioux,\n\"Sits beside him\" woman,\nSkeleton,\nSkidi tribe,\nSkull taken into eagle pit,\nSkunks,\nSleeping for power,\nSmall Brittle Fat,\nSmall Leggings,\n  Robes,\nSmallpox,\nSmell of a person,\nSmoking, rules in,\nSnakes,\nSnakes (tribe),\n  Peace with, The,\nSnares,\nSocial organization,\nSocieties of the All Comrades,\nSoldiers,\nSong, antelope,\n  beaver,\n  buffalo,\n  pipe,\n  war party,\nSoul,\n_Spai'-yu ksah'-ku_,\nSpanish lands,\nSpear heads,\nSpears,\nSpoons,\nSports of children,\n  of adults,\nSpotted Tail's camp,\nSt. Mary's River,\n_Sta-au'_,\nStarvation winter,\nSteell, Major,\nStockraising,\nStolen by the Thunder,\nStone bowls,\n  kettles,\n  knives,\n  pointed arrows,\n_Ston'-i-t[)a]pi_,\nStories of Adventure,\n  of Ancient Times,\n  of Old Man,\nStory of the Three Tribes, The,\nStory-telling,\nStriped-face,\nStruck by the Thunder,\n_St[)u]'miks,_\nSuicide among girls,\nSun,\nSun dogs,\nSun River,\nSun's Lodge,\nSun's Lodge, seeking the,\nSurrounding buffalo,\n_S[=u]'-ye-st[)u]'-miks_,\n_S[=u]'-ye-t[)u]ppi_,\n_Su-yoh-pah'-wah-ku_,\nSweat bath,\nSweat lodge,\n  houses for Medicine Lodge,\nSweet-grass,\nSweet Grass Hills,\nSwindling the Indians,\n\nTail-feathers-coming-in-sight-over-the-Hill,\nTails,\nTaking horses,\nTemperament,\nTeton River,\nThe Bad Weapons,\n  Bears,\n  Beaver Medicine,\n  Blackfoot Genesis,\n  Blackfoot in War,\n  Buffalo Rock,\n  Dog and the Stick,\n  Elk,\n  Fox,\n  Ghosts' Buffalo,\n  Past and the Present,\n  Race,\n  Rock,\n  Theft from the Sun,\n  Wonderful Bird,\nTheft from the Sun, The,\n  penalty for,\nThey Don't Laugh,\nThings sacred to the Sun,\nThree Tribes, The Story of,\nThunder,\n  bird,\n  described,\n  brings the rain,\n  steals women,\nTobacco, Indians',\n  songs,\nTobacco thief punished,\nTongues for Medicine Lodge,\nTouchwood Hills,\nTraining of children,\nTransmigration of souls,\nTrapping wolves,\nTreachery, penalty for,\nTreatment of dead enemies,\n  of women,\nTrial by jumping,\nTrivett, Rev. S.,\n_Tsin-ik-tsis'-tso-yiks_,\n_Ts[)i]-st[=i]ks_,\n_T[)u]is-kis't[=i]ks_,\nTurtles,\nTwo Medicine (Lodge Creek),\n  War Trails,\n\nUnder Water People,\n  Persons,\nUses of buffalo products,\n\nVersion of the origin of death,\nVisitor's seat in lodge,\n\nWar bonnet,\n  bonnet of Bulls Society,\n  clubs, how made,\n  head-dress,\n  journeys, duration of,\n  journeys to the southwest,\n  lodges,\n  lodges, how built,\n  systematized,\n  with the Gros Ventres,\nWar parties,\nWarrior's outfit, contributions to,\nWhiskey trading,\nWhite beaver,\n  Breasts,\n  Calf,\nWidows,\nWife, standing of,\n  duties of first,\n  The Bad,\nWind Maker,\n  Sucker,\nWolf Calf,\n  Tail,\n  Man, The,\n  Road,\n  song,\nWolverine,\nWolves,\nWolves, rabid,\nWoman doctors,\nWoman, standing of,\n  The Lost,\nWoman's dress,\n  seat in lodge,\nWonderful Bird, The,\nWood for bows,\nWoods Bloods,\nWorm People,\n  Pipe,\nWorms,\n\nYellowstone River,\nYoung Bear Chief,\n  women's dance,\nYounger sisters potential wives,\n\n\n\n\n\nA NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR\n\nAlthough GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL (1849-1938) won distinction as an\nethnologist, author, editor, and explorer, perhaps his most enduring\nachievement was that cited by President Coolidge when he presented the\nTheodore Roosevelt Gold Medal of Honor to Grinnell in 1925: \"Few have done\nas much as you, and none has done more, to preserve vast areas of\npicturesque wilderness for the eyes of posterity....\"  It was largely\nthanks to Grinnell that Glacier National Park was created, and in\nYellowstone Park, as the President said, he \"prevented the exploitation and\ntherefore the destruction of the natural beauty.\"  Grinnell was a member of\nthe Marsh, Custer, and Ludlow expeditions in the 1870's, and during those\nyears prepared reports on birds and mammals of the northwestern Great\nPlains region which are still authoritative. From those years, also, dates\nhis interest in the Indians, particularly the Pawnee, Blackfoot, and\nCheyenne. Among the score of books resulting from his lifelong study of the\nPlains tribes, _The Fighting Cheyenne_ (1915) and _The Cheyenne Indians_\n(1923), _Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk-Tales_ (1889), and BLACKFOOT LODGE\nTALES (1892) are perhaps the best known. A friend of the famed North\nbrothers, who commanded the Pawnee Scouts, Grinnell encouraged Captain\nLuther North to set down his recollections, and contributed a foreword to\nthe book. Titled _Man of the Plains_, this work was published for the first\ntime in its entirety by the University of Nebraska Press (1961).","title":"Blackfoot Lodge Tales: The Story of a Prairie People","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":100757}