Blackfoot Lodge Tales: The Story of a Prairie People (2024)

Juliet Sutherland, Thomas Hutchinson and PG Distributed Proofreaders

Blackfoot Lodge Tales

The Story of a Prairie People

GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL

INTRODUCTION

INDIANS AND THEIR STORIES

STORIES OF ADVENTURE

THE PEACE WITH THE SNAKES

THE LOST WOMAN

ADVENTURES OF BULL TURNS ROUND

K[)U]T-O'-YIS

THE BAD WIFE

THE LOST CHILDREN

MIK-A'PI—RED OLD MAN

HEAVY COLLAR AND THE GHOST WOMAN

THE WOLF-MAN

THE FAST RUNNERS

TWO WAR TRAILS

STORIES OF ANCIENT TIMES

SCARFACE

ORIGIN OF THE I-KUN-UH'-KAH-TSI

ORIGIN OF THE MEDICINE PIPE

THE BEAVER MEDICINE

THE BUFFALO ROCK

ORIGIN OF THE WORM PIPE

THE GHOSTS' BUFFALO

STORIES OF OLD MAN

THE BLACKFOOT GENESIS

THE DOG AND THE STICK

THE BEARS

THE WONDERFUL BIRD

THE RACE

THE BAD WEAPONS

THE ELK

OLD MAN DOCTORS

THE ROCK

THE THEFT FROM THE SUN

THE FOX

OLD MAN AND THE LYNX

THE STORY OF THE THREE TRIBES.

THE PAST AND THE PRESENT

DAILY LIFE AND CUSTOMS

HOW THE BLACKFOOT LIVED

SOCIAL ORGANIZATION

HUNTING

THE BLACKFOOT IN WAR

RELIGION

MEDICINE PIPES AND HEALING

THE BLACKFOOT OF TO-DAY

We were sitting about the fire in the lodge on Two Medicine. Double Runner,Small Leggings, Mad Wolf, and the Little Blackfoot were smoking andtalking, and I was writing in my note-book. As I put aside the book, andreached out my hand for the pipe, Double Runner bent over and picked up ascrap of printed paper, which had fallen to the ground. He looked at it fora moment without speaking, and then, holding it up and calling me by name,said:—

"Pi-nut-ú-ye is-tsím-okan, this is education. Here is the differencebetween you and me, between the Indians and the white people. You know whatthis means. I do not. If I did know, I should be as smart as you. If allmy people knew, the white people would not always get the best of us."

"Nísah (elder brother), your words are true. Therefore you ought to seethat your children go to school, so that they may get the white man'sknowledge. When they are men, they will have to trade with the whitepeople; and if they know nothing, they can never get rich. The times havechanged. It will never again be as it was when you and I were young."

"You say well, Pi-nut-ú-ye is-tsím-okan, I have seen the days; and I knowit is so. The old things are passing away, and the children of my childrenwill be like white people. None of them will know how it used to be intheir father's days unless they read the things which we have told you, andwhich you are all the time writing down in your books."

"They are all written down, Nísah, the story of the three tribes,
Sík-si-kau, Kaínah, and Pik[)u]ni."

INDIANS AND THEIR STORIES

The most shameful chapter of American history is that in which is recordedthe account of our dealings with the Indians. The story of our government'sintercourse with this race is an unbroken narrative of injustice, fraud,and robbery. Our people have disregarded honesty and truth whenever theyhave come in contact with the Indian, and he has had no rights because hehas never had the power to enforce any.

Protests against governmental swindling of these savages have been madeagain and again, but such remonstrances attract no generalattention. Almost every one is ready to acknowledge that in the past theIndians have been shamefully robbed, but it appears to be believed thatthis no longer takes place. This is a great mistake. We treat them now muchas we have always treated them. Within two years, I have been present on areservation where government commissioners, by means of threats, by bribesgiven to chiefs, and by casting fraudulently the votes of absentees,succeeded after months of effort in securing votes enough to warrant themin asserting that a tribe of Indians, entirely wild and totally ignorant offarming, had consented to sell their lands, and to settle down each upon160 acres of the most utterly arid and barren land to be found on the NorthAmerican continent. The fraud perpetrated on this tribe was as gross ascould be practised by one set of men upon another. In a similar way theSouthern Utes were recently induced to consent to give up their reservationfor another.

Americans are a conscientious people, yet they take no interest in thesefrauds. They have the Anglo-Saxon spirit of fair play, which sympathizeswith weakness, yet no protest is made against the oppression which theIndian suffers. They are generous; a famine in Ireland, Japan, or Russiaarouses the sympathy and calls forth the bounty of the nation, yet theygive no heed to the distress of the Indians, who are in the very midst ofthem. They do not realize that Indians are human beings like themselves.

For this state of things there must be a reason, and this reason is to befound, I believe, in the fact that practically no one has any personalknowledge of the Indian race. The few who are acquainted with them areneither writers nor public speakers, and for the most part would find iteasier to break a horse than to write a letter. If the general public knowslittle of this race, those who legislate about them are equallyignorant. From the congressional page who distributes the copies of apending bill, up through the representatives and senators who vote for it,to the president whose signature makes the measure a law, all are entirelyunacquainted with this people or their needs.

Many stories about Indians have been written, some of which are interestingand some, perhaps, true. All, however, have been written by civilizedpeople, and have thus of necessity been misleading. The reason for this isplain. The white person who gives his idea of a story of Indian lifeinevitably looks at things from the civilized point of view, and assigns tothe Indian such motives and feelings as govern the civilized man. But oftenthe feelings which lead an Indian to perform a particular action are notthose which would induce a white man to do the same thing, or if they are,the train of reasoning which led up to the Indian's motive is not thereasoning of the white man.

In a volume about the Pawnees,[1] I endeavored to show how Indians thinkand feel by letting some of them tell their own stories in their ownfashion, and thus explain in their own way how they look at the every-dayoccurrences of their life, what motives govern them, and how they reason.

[Footnote 1: Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk-Tales.]

In the present volume, I treat of another race of Indians in precisely thesame way. I give the Blackfoot stories as they have been told to me by theIndians themselves, not elaborating nor adding to them. In all cases exceptone they were written down as they fell from the lips of the storyteller.Sometimes I have transposed a sentence or two, or have added a few words ofexplanation; but the stories as here given are told in the words of theoriginal narrators as nearly as it is possible to render those words intothe simplest every-day English. These are Indians' stories, pictures ofIndian life drawn by Indian artists, and showing this life from theIndian's point of view. Those who read these stories will have thenarratives just as they came to me from the lips of the Indians themselves;and from the tales they can get a true notion of the real man who isspeaking. He is not the Indian of the newspapers, nor of the novel, nor ofthe Eastern sentimentalist, nor of the Western boomer, but the real Indianas he is in his daily life among his own people, his friends, where he isnot embarrassed by the presence of strangers, nor trying to produceeffects, but is himself—the true, natural man.

And when you are talking with your Indian friend, as you sit beside him andsmoke with him on the bare prairie during a halt in the day's march, or atnight lie at length about your lonely camp fire in the mountains, or formone of a circle of feasters in his home lodge, you get very near tonature. Some of the sentiments which he expresses may horrify yourcivilized mind, but they are not unlike those which your own small boymight utter. The Indian talks of blood and wounds and death in acommonplace, matter-of-fact way that may startle you. But these things usedto be a part of his daily life; and even to-day you may sometimes hear adried-up, palsied survivor of the ancient wars cackle out his shrill laughwhen he tells as a merry jest, a bloodcurdling story of the torture heinflicted on some enemy in the long ago.

I have elsewhere expressed my views on Indian character, the conclusionsfounded on an acquaintance with this race extending over more than twentyyears, during which time I have met many tribes, with some of whom I havelived on terms of the closest intimacy.

The Indian is a man, not very different from his white brother, except thathe is undeveloped. In his natural state he is kind and affectionate in hisfamily, is hospitable, honest and straightforward with his fellows,—a truefriend. If you are his guest, the best he has is at your disposal; if thecamp is starving, you will still have set before you your share of whatfood there may be in the lodge. For his friend he will die, if need be. Heis glad to perform acts of kindness for those he likes. While travelling inthe heats of summer over long, waterless stretches of prairie, I have hadan Indian, who saw me suffering from thirst, leave me, without mentioninghis errand, and ride thirty miles to fetch me a canteen of cool water.

The Indian is intensely religious. No people pray more earnestly nor morefrequently. This is especially true of all Indians of the Plains.

The Indian has the mind and feelings of a child with the stature of a man;and if this is clearly understood and considered, it will readily accountfor much of the bad that we hear about him, and for many of the evil traitswhich are commonly attributed to him. Civilized and educated, the Indian ofthe better class is not less intelligent than the average white man, and hehas every capacity for becoming a good citizen.

This is the view held not only by myself, but by all of the many oldfrontiersmen that I have known, who have had occasion to live much amongIndians, and by most experienced army officers. It was the view held by myfriend and schoolmate, the lamented Lieutenant Casey, whose good work intransforming the fierce Northern Cheyennes into United States soldiers iswell known among all officers of the army, and whose sad death by an Indianbullet has not yet, I believe, been forgotten by the public.

It is proper that something should be said as to how this book came to bewritten.

About ten years ago, Mr. J.W. Schultz of Montana, who was then living inthe Blackfoot camp, contributed to the columns of the Forest and Stream,under the title "Life among the Blackfeet," a series of sketches of thatpeople. These papers seemed to me of unusual interest, and worthy a recordin a form more permanent than the columns of a newspaper; but noopportunity was then presented for filling in the outlines given in them.

Shortly after this, I visited the Pi-k[)u]n-i tribe of the Black-feet, andI have spent more or less time in their camps every year since. I havelearned to know well all their principal men, besides many of the Bloodsand the Blackfeet, and have devoted much time and effort to the work ofaccumulating from their old men and best warriors the facts bearing on thehistory, customs, and oral literature of the tribe, which are presented inthis volume.

In 1889 my book on the Pawnees was published, and seemed to arouse so muchinterest in Indian life, from the Indian's standpoint, that I wrote toMr. Schultz, urging him, as I had often done before, to put hisobservations in shape for publication, and offered to edit his work, and tosee it through the press. Mr. Schultz was unwilling to undertake this task,and begged me to use all the material which I had gathered, and whatever hecould supply, in the preparation of a book about the Blackfeet.

A portion of the material contained in these pages was originally madepublic by Mr. Schultz, and he was thus the discoverer of the literature ofthe Blackfeet. My own investigations have made me familiar with all thestories here recorded, from original sources, but some of them he firstpublished in the columns of the Forest and Stream. For this work he isentitled to great credit, for it is most unusual to find any one living therough life beyond the frontier, and mingling in daily intercourse withIndians, who has the intelligence to study their traditions, history, andcustoms, and the industry to reduce his observations to writing.

Besides the invaluable assistance given me by Mr. Schultz, I acknowledgewith gratitude the kindly aid of Miss Cora M. Ross, one of the schoolteachers at the Blackfoot agency, who has furnished me with a version ofthe story of the origin of the Medicine Lodge; and of Mrs. Thomas Dawson,who gave me help on the story of the Lost Children. William Jackson, aneducated half-breed, who did good service from 1874 to 1879, scouting underGenerals Custer and Miles, and William Russell, half-breed, at one timegovernment interpreter at the agency, have both given me valuableassistance. The latter has always placed himself at my service, when Ineeded an interpreter, while Mr. Jackson has been at great pains to assistme in securing several tales which I might not otherwise have obtained, andhas helped me in many ways. The veteran prairie man, Mr. Hugh Monroe, andhis son, John Monroe, have also given me much information. Most of thestories I owe to Blackfeet, Bloods, and Piegans of pure race. Some of thesem*n have died within the past few years, among them the kindly andvenerable Red Eagle; Almost-a-Dog, a noble old man who was regarded withrespect and affection by Indians and whites; and that matchless orator,Four Bears. Others, still living, to whom I owe thanks, are Wolf Calf, BigNose, Heavy Runner, Young Bear Chief, Wolf Tail, Rabid Wolf, RunningRabbit, White Calf, All-are-his-Children, Double Runner, Lone MedicinePerson, and many others.

The stories here given cover a wide range of subjects, but are fairexamples of the oral literature of the Blackfeet. They deal with religion,the origin of things, the performances of medicine men, the bravery andsingle-heartedness of warriors.

It will be observed that in more than one case two stories begin in thesame way, and for a few paragraphs are told in language which is almostidentical. In like manner it is often to be noted that in different storiesthe same incidents occur. This is all natural enough, when it is rememberedthat the range of the Indians' experiences is very narrow. The incidentsof camp life, of hunting and war excursions, do not offer a very widevariety of conditions; and of course the stories of the people deal chieflywith matters with which they are familiar. They are based on the every-daylife of the narrators.

The reader of these Blackfoot stories will not fail to notice many curiousresemblances to tales told among other distant and different peoples. Theirsimilarity to those current among the Ojibwas, and other Eastern Algonquintribes, is sufficiently obvious and altogether to be expected, nor is it atall remarkable that we should find, among the Blackfeet, tales identicalwith those told by tribes of different stock far to the south; but it is alittle startling to see in the story of the Worm Pipe a close parallel tothe classical myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. In another of the stories is anincident which might have been taken bodily from the Odyssey.

Well-equipped students of general folk-lore will find in these tales muchto interest them, and to such may be left the task of commenting on thiscollection.

STORIES OF ADVENTURE

THE PEACE WITH THE SNAKES

I

In those days there was a Piegan chief named Owl Bear. He was a greatchief, very brave and generous. One night he had a dream: he saw many deadbodies of the enemy lying about, scalped, and he knew that he must go towar. So he called out for a feast, and after the people had eaten, hesaid:—

"I had a strong dream last night. I went to war against the Snakes, andkilled many of their warriors. So the signs are good, and I feel that Imust go. Let us have a big party now, and I will be the leader. We willstart to-morrow night."

Then he told two old men to go out in the camp and shout the news, so thatall might know. A big party was made up. Two hundred men, they say, wentwith this chief to war. The first night they travelled only a little way,for they were not used to walking, and soon got tired.

In the morning the chief got up early and went and made a sacrifice, andwhen he came back to the others, some said, "Come now, tell us your dreamof this night."

"I dreamed good," said Owl Bear. "I had a good dream. We will have goodluck."

But many others said they had bad dreams. They saw blood running from theirbodies.

Night came, and the party started on, travelling south, and keeping nearthe foot-hills; and when daylight came, they stopped in thick pine woodsand built war lodges. They put up poles as for a lodge, and covered themvery thick with pine boughs, so they could build fires and cook, and no onewould see the light and smoke; and they all ate some of the food theycarried, and then went to sleep.

Again the chief had a good dream, but the others all had bad dreams, andsome talked about turning back; but Owl Bear laughed at them, and whennight came, all started on. So they travelled for some nights, and allkept dreaming bad except the chief. He always had good dreams. One dayafter a sleep, a person again asked Owl Bear if he dreamed good. "Yes," hereplied. "I have again dreamed of good luck."

"We still dream bad," the person said, "and now some of us are going toturn back. We will go no further, for bad luck is surely ahead." "Go back!go back!" said Owl Bear. "I think you are cowards; I want no cowards withme." They did not speak again. Many of them turned around, and startednorth, toward home.

Two more days' travel. Owl Bear and his warriors went on, and then anotherparty turned back, for they still had bad dreams. All the men now left withhim were his relations. All the others had turned back.

They travelled on, and travelled on, always having bad dreams, until theycame close to the Elk River.[1] Then the oldest relation said, "Come, mychief, let us all turn back. We still have bad dreams. We cannot have goodluck."

[Footnote 1: Yellowstone River.]

"No," replied Owl Bear, "I will not turn back."

Then they were going to seize him and tie his hands, for they had talked ofthis before. They thought to tie him and make him go back with them. Thenthe chief got very angry. He put an arrow on his bow, and said: "Do nottouch me. You are my relations; but if any of you try to tie me, I willkill you. Now I am ashamed. My relations are cowards and will turn back. Ihave told you I have always dreamed good, and that we would have good luck.Now I don't care; I am covered with shame. I am going now to the Snake campand will give them my body. I am ashamed. Go! go! and when you get home puton women's dresses. You are no longer men."

They said no more. They turned back homeward, and the chief was allalone. His heart was very sad as he travelled on, and he was much ashamed,for his relations had left him.

II

Night was coming on. The sun had set and rain was beginning to fall. OwlBear looked around for some place where he could sleep dry. Close by he sawa hole in the rocks. He got down on his hands and knees and crept in. Hereit was very dark. He could see nothing, so he crept very slowly, feeling ashe went. All at once his hand touched something strange. He felt of it. Itwas a person's foot, and there was a moccasin on it. He stopped, and satstill. Then he felt a little further. Yes, it was a person's leg. He couldfeel the cowskin legging. Now he did not know what to do. He thoughtperhaps it was a dead person; and again, he thought it might be one of hisrelations, who had become ashamed and turned back after him.

Pretty soon he put his hand on the leg again and felt along up. He touchedthe person's belly. It was warm. He felt of the breast, and could feel itrise and fall as the breath came and went; and the heart was beatingfast. Still the person did not move. Maybe he was afraid. Perhaps hethought that was a ghost feeling of him.

Owl Bear now knew this person was not dead. He thought he would try if hecould learn who the man was, for he was not afraid. His heart was sad. Hispeople and his relations had left him, and he had made up his mind to givehis body to the Snakes. So he began and felt all over the man,—of hisface, hair, robe, leggings, belt, weapons; and by and by he stopped feelingof him. He could not tell whether it was one of his people or not.

Pretty soon the strange person sat up and felt all over Owl Bear; and whenhe had finished, he took the Piegan's hand and opened it and held it up,waving it from side to side, saying by signs, "Who are you?"

Owl Bear put his closed hand against the person's cheek and rubbed it; hesaid in signs, "Piegan!" and then he asked the person who he was. A fingerwas placed against his breast and moved across it zigzag. It was the signfor "Snake."

"Hai yah!" thought Owl Bear, "a Snake, my enemy." For a long time he satstill, thinking. By and by he drew his knife from his belt and placed it inthe Snake's hand, and signed, "Kill me!" He waited. He thought soon hisheart would be cut. He wanted to die. Why live? His people had left him.

Then the Snake took Owl Bear's hand and put a knife in it and motioned thatOwl Bear should cut his heart, but the Piegan would not do it. He lay down,and the Snake lay down beside him. Maybe they slept. Likely not.

So the night went and morning came. It was light, and they crawled out ofthe cave, and talked a long time together by signs. Owl Bear told the Snakewhere he had come from, how his party had dreamed bad and left him, andthat he was going alone to give his body to the Snakes.

Then the Snake said: "I was going to war, too. I was going against the
Piegans. Now I am done. Are you a chief?"

"I am the head chief," replied Owl Bear. "I lead. All the others follow."

"I am the same as you," said the Snake. "I am the chief. I like you. Youare brave. You gave me your knife to kill you with. How is your heart?Shall the Snakes and the Piegans make peace?"

"Your words are good," replied Owl Bear. "I am glad."

"How many nights will it take you to go home and come back here with yourpeople?" asked the Snake.

Owl Bear thought and counted. "In twenty-five nights," he replied, "the
Piegans will camp down by that creek."

"My trail," said the Snake, "goes across the mountains. I will try to behere in twenty-five nights, but I will camp with my people just behind thatfirst mountain. When you get here with the Piegans, come with one of yourwives and stay all night with me. In the morning the Snakes will move andput up their lodges beside the Piegans."

"As you say," replied the chief, "so it shall be done." Then they built afire and cooked some meat and ate together.

"I am ashamed to go home," said Owl Bear. "I have taken no horses, noscalps. Let me cut off your side locks?"

"Take them," said the Snake.

Owl Bear cut off the chiefs braids close to his head, and then the Snakecut off the Piegan's braids. Then they exchanged clothes and weapons andstarted out, the Piegan north, the Snake south.

III

"Owl Bear has come! Owl Bear has come!" the people were shouting.

The warriors rushed to his lodge. Whish! how quickly it was filled!
Hundreds stood outside, waiting to hear the news.

For a long time the chief did not speak. He was still angry with hispeople. An old man was talking, telling the news of the camp. Owl Bear didnot look at him. He ate some food and rested. Many were in the lodge whohad started to war with him. They were now ashamed. They did not speak,either, but kept looking at the fire. After a long time the chief said: "Itravelled on alone. I met a Snake. I took his scalp and clothes, and hisweapons. See, here is his scalp!" And he held up the two braids of hair.

No one spoke, but the chief saw them nudge each other and smile a little;and soon they went out and said to one another: "What a lie! That is not anenemy's scalp; there is no flesh on it He has robbed some dead person."

Some one told the chief what they said, but he only laughed and replied:—

"I do not care. They were too much afraid even to go on and rob a deadperson. They should wear women's dresses."

Near sunset, Owl Bear called for a horse, and rode all through camp soevery one could hear, shouting out: "Listen! listen! To-morrow we movecamp. We travel south. The Piegans and Snakes are going to make peace. Ifany one refuses to go, I will kill him. All must go."

Then an old medicine man came up to him and said: "Kyi, Owl Bear! listento me. Why talk like this? You know we are not afraid of the Snakes. Havewe not fought them and driven them out of this country? Do you think we areafraid to go and meet them? No. We will go and make peace with them as yousay, and if they want to fight, we will fight. Now you are angry with thosewho started to war with you. Don't be angry. Dreams belong to the Sun. Hegave them to us, so that we can see ahead and know what will happen. ThePiegans are not cowards. Their dreams told them to turn back. So do not beangry with them any more."

"There is truth in what you say, old man," replied Owl Bear; "I will takeyour words."

IV

In those days the Piegans were a great tribe. When they travelled, if youwere with the head ones, you could not see the last ones, they were so farback. They had more horses than they could count, so they used fresh horsesevery day and travelled very fast. On the twenty-fourth day they reachedthe place where Owl Bear had told the Snake they would camp, and put uptheir lodges along the creek. Soon some young men came in, and said theyhad seen some fresh horse trails up toward the mountain.

"It must be the Snakes," said the chief; "they have already arrived,although there is yet one night." So he called one of his wives, andgetting on their horses they set out to find the Snake camp. They took thetrail up over the mountain, and soon came in sight of the lodges. It was abig camp. Every open place in the valley was covered with lodges, and thehills were dotted with horses; for the Snakes had a great many more horsesthan the Piegans.

Some of the Snakes saw the Piegans coming, and they ran to the chief,saying: "Two strangers are in sight, coming this way. What shall be done?"

"Do not harm them," replied the chief. "They are friends of mine. I havebeen expecting them." Then the Snakes wondered, for the chief had told themnothing about his war trip.

Now when Owl Bear had come to the camp, he asked in signs for the chiefslodge, and they pointed him to one in the middle. It was small and old. ThePiegan got off his horse, and the Snake chief came out and hugged him andkissed him, and said: "I am glad you have come to-day to my lodge. So aremy people. You are tired. Enter my lodge and we will eat." So they wentinside and many of the Snakes came in, and they had a great feast.

Then the Snake chief told his people how he had met the Piegan, and howbrave he was, and that now they were going to make a great peace; and hesent some men to tell the people, so that they would be ready to move campin the morning. Evening came. Everywhere people were shouting out forfeasts, and the chief took Owl Bear to them. It was very late when theyreturned. Then the Snake had one of his wives make a bed at the back of thelodge; and when it was ready he said: "Now, my friend, there is yourbed. This is now your lodge; also the woman who made the bed, she is nowyour wife; also everything in this lodge is yours. The parfleches, saddles,food, robes, bowls, everything is yours. I give them to you because you aremy friend and a brave man."

"You give me too much," replied Owl Bear. "I am ashamed, but I take yourwords. I have nothing with me but one wife. She is yours."

Next morning camp was broken early. The horses were driven in, and theSnake chief gave Owl Bear his whole band,—two hundred head, all large,powerful horses.

All were now ready, and the chiefs started ahead. Close behind them wereall the warriors, hundreds and hundreds, and last came the women andchildren, and the young men driving the loose horses. As they came in sightof the Piegan camp, all the warriors started out to meet them, dressed intheir war costumes and singing the great war song. There was no wind, andthe sound came across the valley and up the hill like the noise ofthunder. Then the Snakes began to sing, and thus the two parties advanced.At last they met. The Piegans turned and rode beside them, and so they cameto the camp. Then they got off their horses and kissed each other. EveryPiegan asked a Snake into his lodge to eat and rest, and the Snake womenput up their lodges beside the Piegan lodges. So the great peace was made.

In Owl Bear's lodge there was a great feast, and when they had finished hesaid to his people: "Here is the man whose scalp I took. Did I say I killedhim? No. I gave him my knife and told him to kill me. He would not do it;and he gave me his knife, but I would not kill him. So we talked togetherwhat we should do, and now we have made peace. And now (turning to theSnake) this is your lodge, also all the things in it. My horses, too, Igive you. All are yours."

So it was. The Piegan took the Snake's wife, lodge, and horses, and theSnake took the Piegan's, and they camped side by side. All the peoplecamped together, and feasted each other and made presents. So the peace wasmade.

V

For many days they camped side by side. The young men kept hunting, and thewomen were always busy drying meat and tanning robes and cowskins. Buffalowere always close, and after a while the people had all the meat and robesthey could carry. Then, one day, the Snake chief said to Owl Bear: "Now, myfriend, we have camped a long time together, and I am glad we have madepeace. We have dug a hole in the ground, and in it we have put our angerand covered it up, so there is no more war between us. And now I think ittime to go. To-morrow morning the Snakes break camp and go back south."

"Your words are good," replied Owl Bear. "I too am glad we have made thispeace. You say you must go south, and I feel lonesome. I would like you togo with us so we could camp together a long time, but as you say, so itshall be done. To-morrow you will start south. I too shall break camp, forI would be lonesome here without you; and the Piegans will start in thehome direction."

The lodges were being taken down and packed. The men sat about thefireplaces, taking a last smoke together.

They were now great friends. Many Snakes had married Piegan women, and manyPiegans had married Snake women. At last all was ready. The great chiefsmounted their horses and started out, and soon both parties were strung outon the trail.

Some young men, however, stayed behind to gamble a while. It was yet earlyin the morning, and by riding fast it would not take them long to catch upwith their camps. All day they kept playing; and sometimes the Pieganswould win, and sometimes the Snakes.

It was now almost sunset. "Let us have one horse race," they said, "and wewill stop." Each side had a good horse, and they ran their best; but theycame in so close together it could not be told who won. The Snakes claimedthat their horse won, and the Piegans would not allow it. So they gotangry and began to quarrel, and pretty soon they began to fight and toshoot at each other, and some were killed.

Since that time the Snakes and Piegans have never been at peace.

THE LOST WOMAN

I

A long time ago the Blackfeet were camped on Backfat Creek. There was inthe camp a man who had but one wife, and he thought a great deal of her. Henever wanted to have two wives. As time passed they had a child, a littlegirl. Along toward the end of the summer, this man's wife wanted to getsome berries, and she asked her husband to take her to a certain placewhere berries grew, so that she could get some. The man said to his wife:"At this time of the year, I do not like to go to that place to pickberries. There are always Snake or Crow war parties travelling aboutthere." The woman wanted very much to go, and she coaxed her husband aboutit a great deal; and at last he said he would go, and they started, andmany women followed them.

When they came to where the berries grew, the man said to his wife: "Thereare the berries down in that ravine. You may go down there and pick them,and I will go up on this hill and stand guard. If I see any one coming, Iwill call out to you, and you must all get on your horses and run." So thewomen went down to pick berries.

The man went up on the hill and sat down and looked over the country. Aftera little time, he looked down into another ravine not far off, and saw thatit was full of horsem*n coming. They started to gallop up towards him, andhe called out in a loud voice, "Run, run, the enemy is rushing on us." Thewomen started to run, and he jumped on his horse and followed them. Theenemy rushed after them, and he drew his bow and arrows, and got ready tofight and defend the women. After they had gone a little way, the enemy hadgained so much that they were shooting at the Blackfeet with their arrows,and the man was riding back and forth behind the women, and whipping up thehorses, now of one, now of another, to make them go faster. The enemy keptgetting closer, and at last they were so near that they were beginning tothrust at him with their lances, and he was dodging them and throwinghimself down, now on one side of his horse, and then on the other.

At length he found that he could no longer defend all the women, so he madeup his mind to leave those that had the slowest horses to the mercy of theenemy, while he would go on with those that had the faster ones. When hefound that he must leave the women, he was excited and rode on ahead; butas he passed, he heard some one call out to him, "Don't leave me," and helooked to one side, and saw that he was leaving his wife. When he heard hiswife call out thus to him, he said to her: "There is no life for mehere. You are a fine-looking woman. They will not kill you, but there is nolife for me." She answered: "No, take pity on me. Do not leave me. My horseis giving out. Let us both get on one horse and then, if we are caught, wewill die together." When he heard this, his heart was touched and he said:"No, wife, I will not leave you. Run up beside my horse and jump on behindme." The enemy were now so near that they had killed or captured some ofthe women, and they had come up close enough to the man so that they gotready to hit at him with their war clubs. His horse was now wounded inplaces with arrows, but it was a good, strong, fast horse.

His wife rode up close to him, and jumped on his horse behind him. When hestarted to run with her, the enemy had come up on either side of him, andsome were behind him, but they were afraid to shoot their arrows for fearof hitting their own people, so they struck at the man with their warclubs. But they did not want to kill the woman, and they did not hurthim. They reached out with their hands to try to pull the woman off thehorse; but she had put her arms around her husband and held on tight, andthey could not get her off, but they tore her clothing off her. As she heldher husband, he could not use his arrows, and could not fight to defendhimself. His horse was now going very slowly, and all the enemy had caughtup to them, and were all around them.

The man said to his wife: "Never mind, let them take you: they will notkill you. You are too handsome a woman for them to kill you." His wifesaid, "No, it is no harm for us both to die together." When he saw that hiswife would not get off the horse and that he could not fight, he said toher: "Here, look out! You are crowding me on to the neck of the horse. Sitfurther back." He began to edge himself back, and at last, when he got hiswife pretty far back on the horse, he gave a great push and shoved her offbehind. When she fell off, his horse had more speed and began to run awayfrom the enemy, and he would shoot back his arrows; and now, when theywould ride up to strike him with their hatchets, he would shoot them andkill them, and they began to be afraid of him, and to edge away fromhim. His horse was very long-winded; and now, as he was drawing away fromthe enemy, there were only two who were yet able to keep up with him. Therest were being left behind, and they stopped, and went back to where theothers had killed or captured the women; and now only two men werepursuing.

After a little while, the Blackfoot jumped off his horse to fight on foot,and the two enemies rode up on either side of him, but a long way off, andjumped off their horses. When he saw the two on either side of him, he tooka sheaf of arrows in his hand and began to rush, first toward the one onthe right, and then toward the one on the left. As he did this, he saw thatone of the men, when he ran toward him and threatened to shoot, would drawaway from him, while the other would stand still. Then he knew that one ofthem was a coward and the other a brave man. But all the time they wereclosing in on him. When he saw that they were closing in on him, he made arush at the brave man. This one was shooting arrows all the time; but theBlackfoot did not shoot until he got close to him, and then he shot anarrow into him and ran up to him and hit him with his stone axe and killedhim. Then he turned to the cowardly one and ran at him. The man turned torun, but the Blackfoot caught him and hit him with his axe and killed him.

After he had killed them, he scalped them and took their arrows, theirhorses, and the stone knives that they had. Then he went home, and when herode into the camp he was crying over the loss of his wife. When he came tohis lodge and got off his horse, his friends went up to him and asked whatwas the matter. He told them how all the women had been killed, and how hehad been pursued by two enemies, and had fought with them and killed themboth, and he showed them the arrows and the horses and the scalps. He toldthe women's relations that they had all been killed; and all were in greatsorrow, and crying over the loss of their friends.

The next morning they held a council, and it was decided that a partyshould go out and see where the battle had been, and find out what hadbecome of the women. When they got to the place, they found all the womenthere dead, except this man's wife. Her they could not find. They alsofound the two Indians that the man had said that he had killed, and,besides, many others that he had killed when he was running away.

II

When he got back to the camp, this Blackfoot picked up his child and put iton his back, and walked round the camp mourning and crying, and the childcrying, for four days and four nights, until he was exhausted and worn out,and then he fell asleep. When the rest of the people saw him walking aboutmourning, and that he would not eat nor drink, their hearts were very sore,and they felt very sorry for him and for the child, for he was a mangreatly thought of by the people.

While he lay there asleep, the chief of the camp came to him and woke him,and said: "Well, friend, what have you decided on? What is your mind? Whatare you going to do?" The man answered: "My child is lonely. It will noteat. It is crying for its mother. It will not notice any one. I am goingto look for my wife." The chief said, "I cannot say anything." He wentabout to all the lodges and told the people that this man was going away toseek his wife.

Now there was in the camp a strong medicine man, who was not married andwould not marry at all. He had said, "When I had my dream, it told me thatI must never have a wife." The man who had lost his wife had a verybeautiful sister, who had never married. She was very proud and veryhandsome. Many men had wanted to marry her, but she would not have anythingto do with any man. The medicine man secretly loved this handsome girl, thesister of the poor man. When he heard of this poor man's misfortune, themedicine man was in great sorrow, and cried over it. He sent word to thepoor man, saying: "Go and tell this man that I have promised never to takea wife, but that if he will give me his beautiful sister, he need not go tolook for his wife. I will send my secret helper in search of her."

When the young girl heard what this medicine man had said, she sent word tohim, saying, "Yes, if you bring my brother's wife home, and I see hersitting here by his side, I will marry you, but not before." But she didnot mean what she said. She intended to deceive him in some way, and not tomarry him at all. When the girl sent this message to him, the medicine mansent for her and her brother to come to his lodge. When they had come, hespoke to the poor man and said, "If I bring your wife here, are you willingto give me your sister for my wife?" The poor man answered, "Yes." But theyoung girl kept quiet in his presence, and had nothing to say. Then themedicine man said to them: "Go. To-night in the middle of the night youwill hear me sing." He sent everybody out of his lodge, and said to thepeople: "I will close the door of my lodge, and I do not want any one tocome in to-night, nor to look through the door. A spirit will come to meto-night." He made the people know, by a sign put out before the door ofhis lodge, that no one must enter it, until such time as he was throughmaking his medicine. Then he built a fire, and began to get out all hismedicine. He unwrapped his bundle and took out his pipe and his rattles andhis other things. After a time, the fire burned down until it was onlycoals and his lodge was dark, and on the fire he threw sweet-scented herbs,sweet grass, and sweet pine, so as to draw his dream-helper to him.

Now in the middle of the night he was in the lodge singing, when suddenlythe people heard a strange voice in the lodge say: "Well, my chief, I havecome. What is it?" The medicine man said, "I want you to help me." Thevoice said, "Yes, I know it, and I know what you want me to do." Themedicine man asked, "What is it?" The voice said, "You want me to go andget a woman." The medicine man answered: "That is what I want. I want youto go and get a woman—the lost woman." The voice said to him, "Did I nottell you never to call me, unless you were in great need of my help?" Themedicine man answered, "Yes, but that girl that was never going to bemarried is going to be given to me through your help." Then the voicesaid, "Oh!" and it was silent for a little while. Then it went on and said:"Well, we have a good feeling for you, and you have been a long time notmarried; so we will help you to get that girl, and you will have her. Yes,we have great pity on you. We will go and look for this woman, and will tryto find her, but I cannot promise you that we will bring her; but we willtry. We will go, and in four nights I will be back here again at this sametime, and I think that I can bring the woman; but I will not promise. WhileI am gone, I will let you know how I get on. Now I am going away." Andthen the people heard in the lodge a sound like a strong wind, and nothingmore. He was gone.

Some people went and told the sister what the medicine man and the voicehad been saying, and the girl was very down-hearted, and cried over theidea that she must be married, and that she had been forced into it in thisway.

III

When the dream person went away, he came late at night to the camp of theSnakes, the enemy. The woman who had been captured was always crying overthe loss of her man and her child. She had another husband now. The man whohad captured her had taken her for his wife. As she was lying there, in herhusband's lodge, crying for sorrow for her loss, the dream person came toher. Her husband was asleep. The dream-helper touched her and pushed her alittle, and she looked up and saw a person standing by her side; but shedid not know who it was. The person whispered in her ear, "Get up, I wantto take you home." She began to edge away from her husband, and at lengthgot up, and all the time the person was moving toward the door. Shefollowed him out, and saw him walk away from the lodge, and she wentafter. The person kept ahead, and the woman followed him, and they wentaway, travelling very fast. After they had travelled some distance, shecalled out to the dream person to stop, for she was getting tired. Then theperson stopped, and when he saw the woman sitting, he would sit down, buthe would not talk to her.

As they travelled on, the woman, when she got tired, would sit down, andbecause she was very tired, she would fall asleep; and when she awoke andlooked up, she always saw the person walking away from her, and she wouldget up and follow him. When day came, the shape would be far ahead of her,but at night it would keep closer. When she spoke to this person, thewoman would call him "young man." At one time she said to him, "Young man,my moccasins are all worn out, and my feet are getting very sore, and I amvery tired and hungry." When she had said this, she sat down and fellasleep, and as she was falling asleep, she saw the person going away fromher. He went back to the lodge of the medicine man.

During this night the camp heard the medicine man singing his song, andthey knew that the dream person must be back again, or that his chief mustbe calling him. The medicine man had unwrapped his bundle, and had takenout all his things, and again had a fire of coals, on which he burned sweetpine and sweet grass. Those who were listening heard a voice say: "Well, mychief, I am back again, and I am here to tell you something. I am bringingthe woman you sent me after. She is very hungry and has no moccasins. Getme those things, and I will take them back to her." The medicine man wentout of the lodge, and called to the poor man, who was mourning for hiswife, that he wanted to see him. The man came, carrying the child on hisback, to hear what the medicine man had to say. He said to him: "Get somemoccasins and something to eat for your wife. I want to send them toher. She is coming." The poor man went to his sister, and told her to givehim some moccasins and some pemmican. She made a bundle of these things,and the man took them to the medicine man, who gave them to the dreamperson; and again he disappeared out of the lodge like a wind.

IV

When the woman awoke in the morning and started to get up, she hit her faceagainst a bundle lying by her, and when she opened it, she found in itmoccasins and some pemmican; and she put on the moccasins and ate, andwhile she was putting on the moccasins and eating, she looked over to whereshe had last seen the person, and he was sitting there with his back towardher. She could never see his face. When she had finished eating, he got upand went on, and she rose and followed. They went on, and the womanthought, "Now I have travelled two days and two nights with this young man,and I wonder what kind of a man he is. He seems to take no notice of me."So she made up her mind to walk fast and to try to overtake him, and seewhat sort of a man he was. She started to do so, but however fast shewalked, it made no difference. She could not overtake him. Whether shewalked fast, or whether she walked slow, he was always the same distancefrom her. They travelled on until night, and then she lay down again andfell asleep. She dreamed that the young man had left her again.

The dream person had really left her, and had gone back to the medicineman's lodge, and said to him: "Well, my chief, I am back again. I ambringing the woman. You must tell this poor man to get on his horse, andride back toward Milk River (the Teton). Let him go in among the high hillson this side of the Muddy, and let him wait there until daylight, and looktoward the hills of Milk River; and after the sun is up a little way, hewill see a band of antelope running toward him, along the trail that theBlackfeet travel. It will be his wife who has frightened theseantelope. Let him wait there for a while, and he will see a personcoming. This will be his wife. Then let him go to meet her, for she has nomoccasins. She will be glad to see him, for she is crying all the time."

The medicine man told the poor man this, and he got on his horse andstarted, as he had been told. He could not believe that it was true. But hewent. At last he got to the place, and a little while after the sun hadrisen, as he was lying on a hill looking toward the hills of the MilkRiver, he saw a band of antelope running toward him, as he had been told hewould see. He lay there for a long time, but saw nothing else come insight; and finally he got angry and thought that what had been told him wasa lie, and he got up to mount his horse and ride back. Just then he saw,away down, far off on the prairie, a small black speck, but he did notthink it was moving, it was so far off,—barely to be seen. He thoughtmaybe it was a rock. He lay down again and took sight on the speck by astraw of grass in front of him, and looked for a long time, and after awhile he saw the speck pass the straw, and then he knew it wassomething. He got on his horse and started to ride up and find out what itwas, riding way around it, through the hills and ravines, so that he wouldnot be seen. He rode up in a ravine behind it, pretty near to it, and thenhe could see it was a person on foot. He got out his bow and arrows andheld them ready to use, and then started to ride up to it. He rode towardthe person, and at last he got near enough to see that it was hiswife. When he saw this, he could not help crying; and as he rode up, thewoman looked back, and knew first the horse, and then her husband, and shewas so glad that she fell down and knew nothing.

After she had come to herself and they had talked together, they got on thehorse and rode off toward camp. When he came over the hill in sight ofcamp, all the people began to say, "Here comes the man"; and at last theycould see from a distance that he had some one on the horse behind him, andthey knew that it must be his wife, and they were glad to see him bringingher back, for he was a man thought a great deal of, and everybody liked himand liked his wife and the way he was kind to her.

Then the handsome girl was given to the medicine man and became his wife.

ADVENTURES OF BULL TURNS ROUND

I

Once the camp moved, but one lodge stayed. It belonged to Wolf Tail; andWolf Tail's younger brother, Bull Turns Round, lived with him. Now theirfather loved both his sons, but he loved the younger one most, and when hewent away with the big camp, he said to Wolf Tail: "Take care of your youngbrother; he is not yet a strong person. Watch him that nothing befall him."

One day Wolf Tail was out hunting, and Bull Turns Round sat in front of thelodge making arrows, and a beautiful strange bird lit on the ground beforehim. Then cried one of Wolf Tail's wives, "Oh, brother, shoot that littlebird." "Don't bother me, sister," he replied, "I am making arrows." Againthe woman said, "Oh, brother, shoot that bird for me." Then Bull TurnsRound fitted an arrow to his bow and shot the bird, and the woman went andpicked it up and stroked her face with it, and her face swelled up so bigthat her eyes and nose could not be seen. But when Bull Turns Round hadshot the bird, he went off hunting and did not know what had happened tothe woman's face.

Now when Wolf Tail came home and saw his wife's face, he said, "What is thematter?" and his wife replied: "Your brother has pounded me so that Icannot see. Go now and kill him." But Wolf Tail said, "No, I love mybrother; I cannot kill him." Then his wife cried and said: "I know you donot love me; you are glad your brother has beaten me. If you loved me, youwould go and kill him."

Then Wolf Tail went out and looked for his brother, and when he had foundhim, he said: "Come, let us get some feathers. I know where there is aneagle's nest;" and he took him to a high cliff, which overhung the river,and on the edge of this cliff was a dead tree, in the top of which theeagles had built their nest. Then said Wolf Tail, "Climb up, brother, andkill the eagles;" and when Bull Turns Round had climbed nearly to the top,Wolf Tail called out, "I am going to push the tree over the cliff, and youwill be killed."

"Oh, brother! oh, brother! pity me; do not kill me," said Bull Turns Round.

"Why did you beat my wife's face so?" said Wolf Tail.

"I didn't," cried the boy; "I don't know what you are talking about."

"You lie," said Wolf Tail, and he pushed the tree over the cliff. He lookedover and saw his brother fall into the water, and he did not come upagain. Then Wolf Tail went home and took down his lodge, and went to themain camp. When his father saw him coming with only his wives, he said tohim, "Where is your young brother?" And Wolf Tail replied: "He went huntingand did not come back. We waited four days for him. I think the bears musthave killed him."

II

Now when Bull Turns Round fell into the river, he was stunned, and thewater carried him a long way down the stream and finally lodged him on asand shoal. Near this shoal was a lodge of Under Water People(S[=u]'-y[=e]-t[)u]p'-pi), an old man, his wife, and two daughters. Thisold man was very rich: he had great flocks of geese, swans, ducks, andother water-fowl, and a big herd of buffalo which were tame. These buffaloalways fed near by, and the old man called them every evening to come anddrink. But he and his family ate none of these. Their only food was thebloodsucker.[1]

[Footnote 1: Blackfoot—Est'-st[)u]k-ki, suck-bite; from Est-ah-tope,suck, and I-sik-st[)u]k-ki, bite.]

Now the old man's daughters were swimming about in the evening, and theyfound Bull Turns Round lying on the shoal, dead, and they went home andtold their father, and begged him to bring the person to life, and give himto them for a husband. "Go, my daughters," he said, "and make four sweatlodges, and I will bring the person." He went and got Bull Turns Round, andwhen the sweat lodges were finished, the old man took him into one of them,and when he had sprinkled water on the hot rocks, he scraped a greatquantity of sand off Bull Turns Round. Then he took him into another lodgeand did the same thing, and when he had taken him into the fourth sweatlodge and scraped all the sand off him, Bull Turns Round came to life, andthe old man led him out and gave him to his daughters. And the old man gavehis son-in-law a new lodge and bows and arrows, and many good presents.

Then the women cooked some bloodsuckers, and gave them to their husband,but when he smelled of them he could not eat, and he threw them in thefire. Then his wives asked him what he would eat. "Buffalo," he replied,"is the only meat for men."

"Oh, father!" cried the girls, running to the old man's lodge, "our husbandwill not eat our food. He says buffalo is the only meat for men."

"Go then, my daughters," said the old man, "and tell your husband to kill abuffalo, but do not take nor break any bones, for I will make it aliveagain." Then the old man called the buffalo to come and drink, and BullTurns Round shot a fat cow and took all the meat. And when he had roastedthe tongue, he gave each of his wives a small piece of it, and they likedit, and they roasted and ate plenty of the meat.

III

One day Bull Turns Round went to the old man and said, "I mourn for myfather."

"How did you come to be dead on the sand shoal?" asked the old man. Then
Bull Turns Round told what his brother had done to him.

"Take this piece of sinew," said the old man. "Go and see your father. Whenyou throw this sinew on the fire, your brother and his wife will roll, andtwist up and die." Then the old man gave him a herd of buffalo, and manydogs to pack the lodge, and other things; and Bull Turns Round took hiswives, and went to find his father.

One day, just after sunset, they came in sight of the big camp, and theywent and pitched the lodge on the top of a very high butte; and the buffalofed close by, and there were so many of them that they covered the wholehill.

Now the people were starving, and some had died, for they had nobuffalo. In the morning, early, a man arose whose son had starved to death,and when he went out and saw this lodge on the top of the hill, and all thebuffalo feeding by it, he cried out in a loud voice; and the people allcame out and looked at it, and they were afraid, for they thought it wasSt[=o]n'-i-t[)a]p-i.[1] Then said the man whose son had died: "I am nolonger glad to live. I will go up to this lodge, and find out what thisis." Now when he said this, all the men grasped their bows and arrows andfollowed him, and when they went up the hill, the buffalo just moved out oftheir path and kept on feeding; and just as they came to the lodge, BullTurns Round came out, and all the people said, "Here is the one whom wethought the bears had killed." Wolf Tail ran up, and said, "Oh, brother,you are not dead. You went to get feathers, but we thought you had beenkilled." Then Bull Turns Round called his brother into the lodge, and hethrew the sinew on the fire; and Wolf Tail, and his wife, who was standingoutside, twisted up and died.

[Footnote 1: There is no word in English which corresponds to this. It isused when speaking of things wonderful or supernatural.]

Then Bull Turns Round told his father all that had happened to him; andwhen he learned that the people were starving, he filled his mouth withfeathers and blew them out, and the buffalo ran off in every direction, andhe said to the people, "There is food, go chase it." Then the people werevery glad, and they came each one and gave him a present. They gave himwar shirts, bows and arrows, shields, spears, white robes, and many curiousthings.

K[)U]T-O'-YIS

Long ago, down where Two Medicine and Badger Creeks come together, therelived an old man. He had but one wife and two daughters. One day there cameto his camp a young man who was very brave and a great hunter. The old mansaid: "Ah! I will have this young man to help me. I will give him mydaughters for wives." So he gave him his daughters. He also gave thisson-in-law all his wealth, keeping for himself only a little lodge, inwhich he lived with his old wife. The son-in-law lived in a lodge that wasbig and fine.

At first the son-in-law was very good to the old people. Whenever hekilled anything, he gave them part of the meat, and furnished plenty ofrobes and skins for their bedding and clothing. But after a while he beganto be very mean to them.

Now the son-in-law kept the buffalo hidden under a big log jam in theriver. Whenever he wanted to kill anything, he would have the old man go tohelp him; and the old man would stamp on the log jam and frighten thebuffalo, and when they ran out, the young man would shoot one or two, neverkilling wastefully. But often he gave the old people nothing to eat, andthey were hungry all the time, and began to grow thin and weak.

One morning, the young man called his father-in-law to go down to the logjam and hunt with him. They started, and the young man killed a fat buffalocow. Then he said to the old man, "Hurry back now, and tell your childrento get the dogs and carry this meat home, then you can have something toeat." And the old man did as he had been ordered, thinking to himself:"Now, at last, my son-in-law has taken pity on me. He will give me part ofthis meat." When he returned with the dogs, they skinned the cow, cut upthe meat and packed it on the dog travois, and went home. Then the youngman had his wives unload it, and told his father-in-law to go home. He didnot give him even a piece of liver. Neither would the older daughter giveher parents anything to eat, but the younger took pity on the old peopleand stole a piece of meat, and when she got a chance threw it into thelodge to the old people. The son-in-law told his wives not to give the oldpeople anything to eat. The only way they got food was when the youngerwoman would throw them a piece of meat unseen by her husband and sister.

Another morning, the son-in-law got up early, and went and kicked on theold man's lodge to wake him, and called him to get up and help him, to goand pound on the log jam to drive out the buffalo, so that he could killsome. When the old man pounded on the jam, a buffalo ran out, and theson-in-law shot it, but only wounded it. It ran away, but at last fell downand died. The old man followed it, and came to where it had lost a big clotof blood from its wound. When he came to where this clot of blood was lyingon the ground, he stumbled and fell, and spilled his arrows out of hisquiver; and while he was picking them up, he picked up also the clot ofblood, and hid it in his quiver. "What are you picking up?" called out theson-in-law. "Nothing," said the old man; "I just fell down and spilled myarrows, and am putting them back." "Curse you, old man," said theson-in-law, "you are lazy and useless. Go back and tell your children tocome with the dogs and get this dead buffalo." He also took away his bowand arrows from the old man.

The old man went home and told his daughters, and then went over to his ownlodge, and said to his wife: "Hurry now, and put the kettle on the fire. Ihave brought home something from the butchering." "Ah!" said the old woman,"has our son-in-law been generous, and given us something nice?" "No,"answered the old man; "hurry up and put the kettle on." When the waterbegan to boil, the old man tipped his quiver up over the kettle, andimmediately there came from the pot a noise as of a child crying, as if itwere being hurt, burnt or scalded. They looked in the kettle, and saw therea little boy, and they quickly took it out of the water. They were verymuch surprised. The old woman made a lashing to put the child in, and thenthey talked about it. They decided that if the son-in-law knew that it wasa boy, he would kill it, so they resolved to tell their daughters that thebaby was a girl. Then he would be glad, for he would think that after awhile he would have it for a wife. They named the child K[)u]t-o'-yis (Clotof Blood).

The son-in-law and his wives came home, and after a while he heard thechild crying. He told his youngest wife to go and find out whether thatbaby was a boy or a girl; if it was a boy, to tell them to kill it. Shecame back and told them that it was a girl. He did not believe this, andsent his oldest wife to find out the truth of the matter. When she cameback and told him the same thing, he believed that it was really agirl. Then he was glad, for he thought that when the child had grown up hewould have another wife. He said to his youngest wife, "Take some pemmicanover to your mother; not much, just enough so that there will be plenty ofmilk for the child."

Now on the fourth day the child spoke, and said, "Lash me in turn to eachone of these lodge poles, and when I get to the last one, I will fall outof my lashing and be grown up." The old woman did so, and as she lashedhim to each lodge pole he could be seen to grow, and finally when theylashed him to the last pole, he was a man. After K[)u]t-o'-yis had lookedabout the inside of the lodge, he looked out through a hole in the lodgecovering, and then, turning round, he said to the old people: "How is itthere is nothing to eat in this lodge? I see plenty of food over by theother lodge." "Hush up," said the old woman, "you will be heard. That isour son-in-law. He does not give us anything at all to eat." "Well," saidK[)u]t-o'-yis, "where is your pis'kun?" The old woman said, "It is down bythe river. We pound on it and the buffalo come out."

Then the old man told him how his son-in-law abused him. "He has taken myweapons from me, and even my dogs; and for many days we have had nothing toeat, except now and then a small piece of meat our daughter steals for us."

"Father," said K[)u]t-o'-yis, "have you no arrows?" "No, my son," hereplied; "but I have yet four stone points."

"Go out then and get some wood," said K[)u]t-o'-yis. "We will make a bowand arrows. In the morning we will go down and kill something to eat."

Early in the morning K[)u]t-o'-yis woke the old man, and said, "Come, wewill go down now and kill when the buffalo come out." When they had reachedthe river, the old man said: "Here is the place to stand and shoot. I willgo down and drive them out." As he pounded on the jam, a fat cow ran out,and K[)u]t-o'-yis killed it.

Meantime the son-in-law had gone out, and as usual knocked on the old man'slodge, and called to him to get up and go down to help him kill. The oldwoman called to him that her husband had already gone down. This made theson-in-law very angry. He said: "I have a good mind to kill you right now,old woman. I guess I will by and by."

The son-in-law went on down to the jam, and as he drew near, he saw the oldman bending over, skinning a buffalo. "Old man," said he, "stand up andlook all around you. Look well, for it will be your last look." Now whenhe had seen the son-in-law coming, K[)u]t-o'-yis had lain down and hiddenhimself behind the buffalo's carcass. He told the old man to say to hisson-in-law, "You had better take your last look, for I am going to killyou, right now." The old man said this. "Ah!" said the son-in-law, "youmake me angrier still, by talking back to me." He put an arrow to his bowand shot at the old man, but did not hit him. K[)u]t-o'-yis told the oldman to pick up the arrow and shoot it back at him, and he did so. Now theyshot at each other four times, and then the old man said to K[)u]t-o'-yis:"I am afraid now. Get up and help me." So K[)u]t-o'-yis got up on his feetand said: "Here, what are you doing? I think you have been badly treatingthis old man for a long time."

Then the son-in-law smiled pleasantly, for he was afraid of
K[)u]t-o'-yis. "Oh, no," he said, "no one thinks more of this old man than
I do. I have always taken great pity on him."

Then K[)u]t-o'-yis said: "You lie. I am going to kill you now." He shot himfour times, and the man died. Then K[)u]t-o'-yis told the old man to go andbring down the daughter who had acted badly toward him. He did so, andK[)u]t-o'-yis killed her. Then he went up to the lodges and said to theyounger woman, "Perhaps you loved your husband." "Yes," she said, "I lovehim." So he killed her, too. Then he said to the old people: "Go over therenow, and live in that lodge. There is plenty there to eat, and when it isgone I will kill more. As for myself, I will make a journey aroundabout. Where are there any people? In what direction?" "Well," said the oldman, "up above here on Badger Creek and Two Medicine, where the pis'kun is,there are some people."

K[)u]t-o'-yis went up to where the pis'kun was, and saw there many lodgesof people. In the centre of the camp was a large lodge, with a figure of abear painted on it. He did not go into this lodge, but went into a verysmall one near by, where two old women lived; and when he went in, he askedthem for something to eat. They set before him some lean dried meat andsome belly fat. "How is this?" he asked. "Here is a pis'kun with plenty offat meat and back fat. Why do you not give me some of that?" "Hush," saidthe old women. "In that big lodge near by, lives a big bear and his wivesand children. He takes all those nice things and leaves us nothing. He isthe chief of this place."

Early in the morning, K[)u]t-o'-yis told the old women to get their dogtravois, and harness it, and go over to the pis'kun, and that he was goingto kill for them some fat meat. He reached there just about the time thebuffalo were being driven in, and shot a cow, which looked very scabby, butwas really very fat. Then he helped the old women to butcher, and when theyhad taken the meat to camp, he said to them, "Now take all the choice fatpieces, and hang them up so that those who live in the bear lodge willnotice them."

They did this, and pretty soon the old chief bear said to his children: "Goout now, and look around. The people have finished killing by thistime. See where the nicest pieces are, and bring in some nice back fat." Ayoung bear went out of the lodge, stood up and looked around, and when itsaw this meat close by, at the old women's lodge, it went over and began topull it down. "Hold on there," said K[)u]t-o'-yis. "What are you doinghere, taking the old women's meat?" and he hit him over the head with astick that he had. The young bear ran home crying, and said to his father,"A young man has hit me on the head." Then all the bears, the father andmother, and uncles and aunts, and all the relations, were very angry, andall rushed out toward the old women's lodge.

K[)u]t-o'-yis killed them all, except one little child bear, a female,which escaped. "Well," said K[)u]t-o'-yis, "you can go and breed bears, sothere will be more."

Then said K[)u]t-o'-yis to the old women: "Now, grand-mothers, where arethere any more people? I want to travel around and see them." The old womensaid: "The nearest ones are at the point of rocks (on Sun River). There isa pis'kun there." So K[)u]t-o'-yis travelled off toward this place, andwhen he reached the camp, he entered an old woman's lodge.

The old woman set before him a plate of bad food. "How is this?" heasked. "Have you nothing better than this to set before a stranger? Youhave a pis'kun down there, and must get plenty of fat meat. Give me somepemmican." "We cannot do that," the old woman replied, "because there is abig snake here, who is chief of the camp. He not only takes the bestpieces, but often he eats a handsome young woman, when he sees one." WhenK[)u]t-o'-yis heard this he was angry, and went over and entered thesnake's lodge. The women were cooking up some sarvis berries. He picked upthe dish, and ate the berries, and threw the dish out of the door. Then hewent over to where the snake was lying asleep, pricked him with his knife,and said: "Here, get up. I have come to see you." This made the snakeangry. He partly raised himself up and began to rattle, when K[)u]t-o'-yiscut him into pieces with his knife. Then he turned around and killed allhis wives and children, except one little female snake, which escaped bycrawling into a crack in the rocks. "Oh, well," said K[)u]t-o'-yis, "youcan go and breed young snakes, so there will be more. The people will notbe afraid of little snakes." K[)u]t-o'-yis said to the old woman, "Now yougo into this snake's lodge and take it for yourself, and everything that isin it."

Then he asked them where there were some more people. They told him thatthere were some people down the river, and some up in the mountains. Butthey said: "Do not go there, for it is bad, because Ai-sin'-o-ko-ki (WindSucker) lives there. He will kill you." It pleased K[)u]t-o'-yis to knowthat there was such a person, and he went to the mountains. When he got tothe place where Wind Sucker lived, he looked into his mouth, and could seemany dead people there,—some skeletons and some just dead. He went in, andthere he saw a fearful sight. The ground was white as snow with the bonesof those who had died. There were bodies with flesh on them; some were justdead, and some still living. He spoke to a living person, and asked, "Whatis that hanging down above us?" The person answered that it was WindSucker's heart. Then said K[)u]t-o'-yis: "You who still draw a littlebreath, try to shake your heads (in time to the song), and those who arestill able to move, get up and dance. Take courage now, we are going tohave the ghost dance." So K[)u]t-o'-yis bound his knife, point upward, tothe top of his head and began to dance, singing the ghost song, and all theothers danced with him; and as he danced up and down, the point of theknife cut Wind Sucker's heart and killed him. K[)u]t-o'-yis took his knifeand cut through Wind Sucker's ribs, and freed those who were able to crawlout, and said to those who could still travel to go and tell their peoplethat they should come here for the ones who were still alive but unable towalk.

Then he asked some of these people: "Where are there any other people? Iwant to visit all the people." They said to him: "There is a camp to thewestward up the river, but you must not take the left-hand trail going up,because on that trail lives a woman, a handsome woman, who invites men towrestle with her and then kills them. You must avoid her." This was whatK[)u]t-o'-yis was looking for. This was his business in the world, to killoff all the bad things. So he asked the people just where this woman lived,and asked where it was best to go to avoid her. He did this, because he didnot wish the people to know that he wanted to meet her.

He started on his way, and at length saw this woman standing by thetrail. She called out to him, "Come here, young man, come here; I want towrestle with you." "No," replied the young man, "I am in a hurry. I cannotstop." But the woman called again, "No, no, come now and wrestle once withme." When she had called him four times, K[)u]t-o'-yis went up to her. Nowon the ground, where this woman wrestled with people, she had placed manybroken and sharp flints, partly hiding them by the grass. They seized eachother, and began to wrestle over these broken flints, but K[)u]t-o'-yislooked at the ground and did not step on them. He watched his chance, andsuddenly gave the woman a wrench, and threw her down on a large sharpflint, which cut her in two; and the parts of her body fell asunder.

Then K[)u]t-o'-yis went on, and after a while came to where a woman kept asliding place; and at the far end of it there was a rope, which would trippeople up, and when they were tripped, they would fall over a high cliffinto deep water, where a great fish would eat them. When this woman saw himcoming, she cried out, "Come over here, young man, and slide with me.""No," he replied, "I am in a hurry." She kept calling him, and when shehad called the fourth time, he went over to slide with her. "This sliding,"said the woman, "is a very pleasant pastime." "Ah!" said K[)u]t-o'-yis, "Iwill look at it." He looked at the place, and, looking carefully, he sawthe hidden rope. So he started to slide, and took out his knife, and whenhe reached the rope, which the woman had raised, he cut it, and when itparted, the woman fell over backward into the water, and was eaten up bythe big fish.

Again he went on, and after a while he came to a big camp. This was theplace of a man-eater. K[)u]t-o'-yis called a little girl he saw near by,and said to her: "Child, I am going into that lodge to let that man-eaterkill and eat me. Watch close, therefore, and when you can get hold of oneof my bones, take it out and call all the dogs, and when they have all comeup to you, throw it down and cry out, 'K[)u]t-o'-yis, the dogs are eatingyour bones!'"

Then K[)u]t-o'-yis entered the lodge, and when the man-eater saw him, hecried out, "O'ki, O'ki," and seemed glad to see him, for he was a fatyoung man. The man-eater took a large knife, and went up to K[)u]t-o'-yis,and cut his throat, and put him into a great stone kettle to cook. When themeat was cooked, he drew the kettle from the fire, and ate the body, limbby limb, until it was all eaten up.

Then the little girl, who was watching, came up to him, and said, "Pity me,man-eater, my mother is hungry and asks you for those bones." So the oldman bunched them up together and handed them to her. She took them out, andcalled all the dogs to her, and threw the bones down to the dogs, cryingout, "Look out, K[)u]t-o'-yis; the dogs are eating you!" and when she saidthat, K[)u]t-o'-yis arose from the pile of bones.

Again he went into the lodge, and when the man-eater saw him, he cried out,"How, how, how! the fat young man has survived," and seemedsurprised. Again he took his knife and cut K[)u]t-o'-yis' throat, and threwhim into the kettle. Again, when the meat was cooked, he ate it up, andagain the little girl asked for the bones, which he gave her; and, takingthem out, she threw them to the dogs, crying, "K[)u]t-o'-yis, the dogs areeating you!" and K[)u]t-o'-yis again arose from the bones.

When the man-eater had cooked him four times, he again went into the lodge,and, seizing the man-eater, he threw him into the boiling kettle, and hiswives and children too, and boiled them to death.

The man-eater was the seventh and last of the bad animals and people whowere destroyed by K[)u]t-o'-yis.

THE BAD WIFE

I

There was once a man who had but one wife. He was not a chief, but a verybrave warrior. He was rich, too, so he could have had plenty of wives if hewished; but he loved his wife very much, and did not want any more. He wasvery good to this woman. She always wore the best clothes that could befound. If any other woman had a fine buckskin dress, or something verypretty, the man would buy it for her.

It was summer. The berries were ripe, and the woman kept saying to herhusband, "Let us go and pick some berries for winter." "No," replied theman. "It is dangerous now. The enemy is travelling all around." But stillthe woman kept teasing him to go. So one day he told her to get ready. Someother women went, too. They all went on horseback, for the berries were along way from camp. When they got to the place, the man told the women tokeep near their horses all the time. He would go up on a butte near by andwatch. "Be careful," he said. "Keep by your horses, and if you see mesignal, throw away your berries, get on your horses and ride towards campas fast as you can."

They had not picked many berries before the man saw a war party coming. Hesignalled the women, and got on his horse and rode towards them. Ithappened that this man and his wife both had good horses, but the others,all old women, rode slow old travois horses, and the enemy soon overtookand killed them. Many kept on after the two on good horses, and after awhile the woman's horse began to get tired; so she asked her husband to lether ride on his horse with him. The woman got up behind him, and they wenton again. The horse was a very powerful one, and for a while went veryfast; but two persons make a heavy load, and soon the enemy began to gainon them. The man was now in a bad plight; the enemy were overtaking him,and the woman holding him bound his arms so that he could not use his bow.

"Get off," he said to her. "The enemy will not kill you. You are too youngand pretty. Some one of them will take you, and I will get a big party ofour people and rescue you."

"No, no," cried the woman; "let us die here together."

"Why die?" cried the man. "We are yet young, and may live a long timetogether. If you don't get off, they will soon catch us and kill me, andthen they will take you anyhow. Get off, and in only a short time I willget you back."

"No, no," again cried the woman; "I will die here with you."

"Crazy person!" cried the man, and with a quick jerk he threw the womanoff.

As he said, the enemy did not kill her. The first one who came up countedcoup and took her. The man, now that his horse was lightened, easily ranaway from the war party, and got safe to camp.

II

Then there was great mourning. The relatives of the old women who had beenkilled, cut their hair and cried. The man, too, cut off his hair andmourned. He knew that his wife was not killed, but he felt very badlybecause he was separated from her. He painted himself black, and walked allthrough the camp, crying. His wife had many relations, and some of themwent to the man and said: "We pity you very much. We mourn, too, for oursister. But come. Take courage. We will go with you, and try to get herback."

"It is good," replied the man. "I feel as if I should die, stoppinguselessly here. Let us start soon."

That evening they got ready, and at daylight started out on foot. Therewere seven of them in all. The husband, five middle-aged men, the woman'srelations, and a young man, her own young brother. He was a very prettyboy. His hair was longer than any other person's in camp.

They soon found the trail of the war party, and followed it for somedays. At last they came to the Big River,[1] and there, on the other side,they saw many lodges. They crept down a coulée into the valley, and hid ina small piece of timber just opposite the camp. Toward evening the mansaid: "Kyi, my brothers. To-night I will swim across and look all throughthe camp for my wife. If I do not find her, I will cache and look againto-morrow evening. But if I do not return before daylight of the secondnight, then you will know I am killed. Then you will do as you think best.Maybe you will want to take revenge. Maybe you will go right backhome. That will be as your hearts feel."

[Footnote 1: Missouri River.]

As soon as it was dark, he swam across the river and went all about throughthe camp, peeping in through the doorways of the lodges, but he did not seehis wife. Still, he knew she must be there. He had followed the trail ofthe party to this place. They had not killed her on the way. He keptlooking in at the lodges until it was late, and the people let the fires goout and went to bed. Then the man went down to where the women got theirwater from the river. Everywhere along the stream was a cut bank, but inone place a path of steps had been made down to the water's edge. Near thispath, he dug a hole in the bank and crawled into it, closing up theentrance, except one small hole, through which he could look, and watch thepeople who came to the river.

As soon as it was daylight, the women began to come for water. Tum, tum,tum, tum, he could hear their footsteps as they came down the path, and helooked eagerly at every one. All day long the people came and went,—theyoung and old; and the children played about near him. He saw many strangepeople that day. It was now almost sunset, and he began to think that hewould not see his wife there. Tum, tum, tum, tum, another woman camedown the steps, and stopped at the water's edge. Her dress was strange, buthe thought he knew the form. She turned her head and looked down the river,and he saw her face. It was his wife. He pushed away the dirt, crawledout, went to her and kissed her. "Kyi," he said, "hurry, and let us swimacross the river. Five of your relations and your own young brother arewaiting for us in that piece of timber."

"Wait," replied his wife. "These people have given me a great many prettythings. Let me go back. When it is night I will gather them up, steal ahorse, and cross over to you."

"No, no," cried the man. "Let the pretty things go; come, let us cross atonce."

"Pity me," said the woman. "Let me go and get my things. I will surely cometo-night. I speak the truth."

"How do you speak the truth?"[1] asked her husband.

[Footnote 1: Blackfoot—Tsa-ki-an-ist-o-man-i? i.e., How you like truth?]

"That my relations there across the river may be safe and live long, Ispeak the truth."

"Go then," said the man, "and get your things. I will cross the river now."He went up on the bank and walked down the river, keeping his facehidden. No one noticed him, or if they did, they thought he belonged to thecamp. As soon as he had passed the first bend, he swam across the river,and soon joined his relations.

"I have seen my wife," he said to them. "She will come over as soon as itis dark. I let her go back to get some things that were given her."

"You are crazy," said one of the men, "very crazy. She already loves thisnew man she has, or she would not have wanted to go back."

"Stop that," said the husband; "do not talk bad of her. She will surelycome."

III

The woman went back to her lodge with the water, and, sitting down near thefireplace, she began to act very strangely. She took up pieces of charredwood, dirt, and ashes in her hands and ate them, and made queer noises.

"What is it?" asked the man who had taken her for a wife. "What is thematter with you?" He spoke in signs.

The woman also spoke in signs. She answered him: "The Sun told me thatthere are seven persons across the river in that piece of timber. Five ofthem are middle-aged, another is a young boy with very long hair, anotheris a man who mourns. His hair is cut short."

The Snake did not know what to do, so he called in some chiefs and old mento advise with him. They thought that the woman might be very strongmedicine. At all events, it would be a good thing to go and look. So thenews was shouted out, and in a short time all the warriors had mountedtheir best horses, and started across the river. It was then almost dark,so they surrounded the piece of timber, and waited for morning to begin thesearch.

"Kyi," said one of the woman's relations to her husband. "Did I notspeak the truth? You see now what that woman has done for us."

At daylight the poor husband strung his bow, took a handful of arrows fromhis quiver, and said: "This is my fault. I have brought you to this. It isright that I should die first," and he started to go out of the timber.

"Wait," said the eldest relative. "It shall not be so. I am the first togo. I cannot stay back to see my brother die. You shall go out last." So hejumped out of the brush, and began shooting his arrows, but was soonkilled.

"My brother is too far on the road alone,"[1] cried another relation, andhe jumped out and fought, too. What use, one against so many? The Snakessoon had his scalp.

[Footnote 1: Meaning that his brother's spirit, or shadow, was travellingalone the road to the Sand Hills, and that he must overtake him.]

So they went out, one after another, and at last the husband was alone. Herushed out very brave, and shot his arrows as fast as he could. "Hold!"cried the Snake man to his people. "Do not kill him; catch him. This is theone my wife said to bring back alive. See! his hair is cut short." So, whenthe man had shot away all his arrows, they seized and tied him, and, takingthe scalps of the others, returned to camp.

They took the prisoner into the lodge where his wife was. His hands weretied behind his back, and they tied his feet, too. He could not move.

As soon as the man saw his wife, he cried. He was not afraid. He did notcare now how soon he died. He cried because he was thinking of all thetrouble and death this woman had caused. "What have I done to you," heasked his wife, "that you should treat me this way? Did I not always useyou well? I never struck you. I never made you work hard."

"What does he say?" asked the Snake man.

"He says," replied the woman, "that when you are done smoking, you mustknock the ashes and fire out of your pipe on his breast."

The Snake was not a bad-hearted man, but he thought now that this woman hadstrong medicine, that she had Sun power; so he thought that everything mustbe done as she said. When the man had finished smoking, he emptied the pipeon the Piegan's breast, and the fire burned him badly.

Then the poor man cried again, not from the pain, but to think what a badheart this woman had. Again he spoke to her. "You cannot be a person," hesaid. "I think you are some fearful animal, changed to look like a woman."

"What is he saying now?" asked the Snake.

"He wants some boiling water poured on his head," replied the woman.

"It shall be as he says," said the Snake; and he had his women heat somewater. When it was ready, one of them poured a little of it here and thereon the captive's head and shoulders. Wherever the hot water touched, thehair came out and the skin peeled off. The pain was so bad that the Piegannearly fainted. When he revived, he said to his wife: "Pity me. I havesuffered enough. Let them kill me now. Let me hurry to join those who arealready travelling to the Sand Hills."

The woman turned to the Snake chief, and said, "The man says that he wantsyou to give him to the Sun."

"It is good," said the Snake. "To-morrow we move camp. Before we leavehere, we will give him to the Sun."

There was an old woman in this camp who lived all alone, in a little lodgeof her own. She had some friends and relations, but she said she liked tolive by herself. She had heard that a Piegan had been captured, and went tothe lodge where he was. When she saw them pour the boiling water on him,she cried and felt badly. This old woman had a very good heart. She wenthome and lay down by her dog, and kept crying, she felt so sorry for thispoor man. Pretty soon she heard people shouting out the orders of thechief. They said: "Listen! listen! To-morrow we move camp. Get ready nowand pack up everything. Before we go, the Piegan man will be given to theSun."

Then the old woman knew what to do. She tied a piece of buckskin around herdog's mouth, so he could not bark, and then she took him way out in thetimber and tied him where he could not be seen. She also filled a smallsack with pemmican, dried meat, and berries, and put it near the dog.

In the morning the people rose early. They smoothed a cotton-wood tree, bytaking off the bark, and painted it black. Then they stood the Piegan upagainst it, and fastened him there with a great many ropes. When they hadtied him so he could not move, they painted his face black, and the chiefSnake made a prayer, and gave him to the Sun.

Every one was now busy getting ready to move camp. This old woman had losther dog, and kept calling out for him and looking all around. "Tsis'-i!"she cried. "Tsis'-i! Come here. Knock the dog on the head![1] Wait till Ifind him, and I'll break his neck."

[Footnote 1: A Blackfoot curse.]

The people were now all packed up, and some had already started on thetrail. "Don't wait for me," the old woman said. "Go on, I'll look again formy dog, and catch up with you."

When all were gone, the old woman went and untied her dog, and then, goingup to where the Piegan was tied, she cut the ropes, and he was free. Butalready the man was very weak, and he fell down on the ground. She rubbedhis limbs, and pretty soon he felt better. The old woman was so sorry forhim that she cried again, and kissed him. Then the man cried, too. He wasso glad that some one pitied him. By and by he ate some of the food the oldwoman had given him, and felt strong again. He said to her in signs: "I amnot done. I shall go back home now, but I will come again. I will bring allthe Piegans with me, and we will have revenge."

"You say well," signed the old woman.

"Help me," again said the man. "If, on the road you are travelling, thiscamp should separate, mark the trail my wife takes with a stick. You, too,follow the party she goes with, and always put your lodge at the far end ofthe village. When I return with my people, I will enter your lodge, andtell you what to do."

"I take your speech," replied the old woman. "As you say, so it shall be."Then she kissed him again, and started on after her people. The man went tothe river, swam across, and started for the North.

IV

Why are the people crying? Why is all this mourning? Ah! the poor man hasreturned home, and told how those who went with him were killed. He hastold them the whole story. They are getting ready for war. Every one ableto fight is going with this man back to the Snakes. Only a few will beleft to guard the camp. The mother of that bad woman is going, too. She hassharpened her axe, and told what she will do when she sees herdaughter. All are ready. The best horses have been caught up and saddled,and the war party has started,—hundreds and hundreds of warriors. They arestrung out over the prairie as far as you can see.

When they got to the Missouri River, the poor man showed them where thelodge in which they had tortured him had stood. He took them to see thetree, where he had been bound. The black paint was still on it.

From here, they went slowly. Some young men were sent far ahead toscout. The second day, they came back to the main body, and said they hadfound a camping place just deserted, and that there the trail forked. Thepoor man then went ahead, and at the forks he found a willow twig stuck inthe ground, pointing to the left hand trail. When the others came up, hesaid to them: "Take care of my horse now, and travel slowly. I will goahead on foot and find the camp. It must be close. I will go and see thatold woman, and find out how things are."

Some men did not want him to do this; they said that the old woman mighttell about him, and then they could not surprise the camp.

"No," replied the man. "It will not be so. That old woman is almost thesame as my mother. I know she will help us."

He went ahead carefully, and near sunset saw the camp. When it was dark,he crept near it and entered the old woman's lodge. She had placed itbehind, and a little way off from, the others. When he went in the oldwoman was asleep, but the fire was still burning a little. He touched her,and she jumped up and started to scream; but he put his hand on her mouth,and when she saw who it was she laughed and kissed him. "The Piegans havecome," he told her. "We are going to have revenge on this camp to-night. Ismy wife here?"

"Still here," replied the old woman. "She is chief now. They think hermedicine very strong."

"Tell your friends and relations," said the Piegan, "that you have had adream, and that they must move into the brush yonder. Have them stay therewith you, and they will not be hurt. I am going now to get my people."

It was very late in the night. Most of the Snakes were in bed andasleep. All at once the camp was surrounded with warriors, shouting the warcry and shooting, stabbing, and knocking people on the head as fast as theycame out of the lodges.

That Piegan woman cried out: "Don't hurt me. I am a Piegan. Are any of mypeople here?"

"Many of your relations are here," some one said. "They will protect you."

Some young men seized and tied her, as her husband had said to do. They hadhard work to keep her mother from killing her. "Hai yah!" the old womancried. "There is my Snake woman daughter. Let me split her head open."

The fight was soon over. The Piegans killed the people almost as fast asthey came out of their lodges. Some few escaped in the darkness. When thefight was over, the young warriors gathered up a great pile of lodge polesand brush, and set fire to it. Then the poor man tore the dress off his badwife, tied the scalp of her dead Snake man around her neck, and told her todance the scalp dance in the fire. She cried and hung back, calling out forpity. The people only laughed and pushed her into the fire. She would runthrough it, and then those on the other side would push her back. So theykept her running through the fire, until she fell down and died.

The old Snake woman had come out of the brush with her relations. Becauseshe had been so good, the Piegans gave her, and those with her, one-half ofall the horses and valuable things they had taken. "Kyi!" said the Pieganchief. "That is all for you, because you helped this poor man. To-morrowmorning we start back North. If your heart is that way, go too and livewith us." So these Snakes joined the Piegans and lived with them until theydied, and their children married with the Piegans, and at last they were nolonger Snake people.[1]

[Footnote 1: When the Hudson's Bay Company first established a fort atEdmonton, a daughter of one of these Snakes married a white employee of thecompany, named, in Blackfoot, O-wai, Egg.]

THE LOST CHILDREN

Once a camp of people stopped on the bank of a river. There were but a fewlodges of them. One day the little children in the camp crossed the riverto play on the other side. For some time they stayed near the bank, andthen they went up over a little hill, and found a bed of sand and gravel;and there they played for a long time.

There were eleven of these children. Two of them were daughters of thechief of the camp, and the smaller of these wanted the best ofeverything. If any child found a pretty stone, she would try to take it forherself. The other children did not like this, and they began to tease thelittle girl, and to take her things away from her. Then she got angry andbegan to cry, and the more she cried, the more the children teased her; soat last she and her sister left the others, and went back to the camp.

When they got there, they told their father what the other children haddone to them, and this made the chief very angry. He thought for a littlewhile, and then got up and went out of the lodge, and called aloud, so thateverybody might hear, saying: "Listen! listen! Your children have teased mychild and made her cry. Now we will move away, and leave them behind. Ifthey come back before we get started, they shall be killed. If they followus and overtake the camp, they shall be killed. If the father and mother ofany one of them take them into their lodge, I will kill that father andmother. Hurry now, hurry and pack up, so that we can go. Everybody teardown the lodges, as quickly as you can."

When the people heard this, they felt very sorry, but they had to do as thechief said; so they tore down the lodges, and quickly packed the dogtravois, and started off. They packed in such a hurry that they left manylittle things lying in camp,—knives and awls, bone needles and moccasins.

The little children played about in the sand for a long time, but at lastthey began to get hungry; and one little girl said to the others, "I willgo back to the camp, and get some dried meat and bring it here, so that wemay eat." And she started to go to the camp. When she came to the top ofthe hill and looked across the river, she saw that there were no lodgesthere, and did not know what to think of it. She called down to thechildren, and said, "The camp has gone"; but they did not believe her, andwent on playing. She kept on calling, and at last some of them came to her,and then all, and saw that it was as she had said. They went down to theriver, and crossed it, and went to where the lodges had stood. When theygot there, they saw on the ground the things that had been left out inpacking; and as each child saw and knew something that had belonged to itsown parents, it cried and sang a little song, saying: "Mother, here is yourbone needle; why did you leave your children?" "Father, here is your arrow;why did you leave your children?" It was very mournful, and they all cried.

There was among them a little girl who had on her back her baby brother,whom she loved dearly. He was very young, a nursing child, and already hewas hungry and beginning to fret. This little girl said to the others: "Wedo not know why they have gone, but we know they have gone. We must followthe trail of the camp, and try to catch up with them." So the childrenstarted to follow the camp. They travelled on all day; and just at nightthey saw, near the trail, a little lodge. They had heard the people talk ofa bad old woman who killed and ate persons, and some of the childrenthought that this old woman might live here; and they were afraid to go tothe lodge. Others said: "Perhaps some person lives here who has a goodheart. We are very tired and very hungry and have nothing to eat and noplace to keep warm. Let us go to this lodge."

They went to it; and when they went in, they saw sitting by the fire an oldwoman. She spoke kindly to them, and asked them where they were travelling;and they told her that the camp had moved on and left them, and that theywere trying to find their people, that they had nothing to eat, and weretired and hungry. The old woman fed them, and told them to sleep hereto-night, and to-morrow they could go on and find their people. "The camp,"she said, "passed here to-day when the sun was low. They have not gonefar. To-morrow you will overtake them." She spread some robes on the groundand said: "Now lie here and sleep. Lie side by side with your heads towardthe fire, and when morning comes, you can go on your journey." Thechildren lay down and soon slept.

In the middle of the night, the old woman got up, and built a big fire, andput on it a big stone kettle, full of water. Then she took a big knife,and, commencing at one end of the row, began to cut off the heads of thechildren, and to throw them into the pot. The little girl with the babybrother lay at the other end of the row, and while the old woman was doingthis, she awoke and saw what was taking place. When the old woman came nearto her, she jumped up and began to beg that she would not kill her. "I amstrong," she said. "I will work hard for you. I can bring your wood andwater, and tan your skins. Do not kill my little brother and me. Take pityon us and save us alive. Everybody has left us, but do you have pity. Youshall see how quickly I will work, how you will always have plenty ofwood. I can work quickly and well." The old woman thought for a littlewhile, then she said: "Well, I will let you live for a time, anyhow. Youshall sleep safely to-night."

The next day, early, the little girl took her brother on her back, and wentout and gathered a big pile of wood, and brought it to the lodge before theold woman was awake. When she got up, she called to the girl, "Go to theriver and get a bucket of water." The girl put her brother on her back, andtook the bucket to go. The old woman said to her: "Why do you carry thatchild everywhere? Leave him here." The girl said: "Not so. He is alwayswith me, and if I leave him he will cry and make a great noise, and youwill not like that." The old woman grumbled, but the girl went on down tothe river.

When she got there, just as she was going to fill her bucket, she sawstanding by her a great bull. It was a mountain buffalo, one of those wholive in the timber; and the long hair of its head was all full of pineneedles and sticks and branches, and matted together. (It was aSu'ye-st[)u]'mik, a water bull.) When the girl saw him, she prayed him totake her across the river, and so to save her and her little brother fromthe bad old woman. The bull said, "I will take you across, but first youmust take some of the sticks out of my head." The girl begged him to startat once; but the bull said, "No, first take the sticks out of my head." Thegirl began to do it, but before she had done much, she heard the old womancalling to her to bring the water. The girl called back, "I am trying toget the water clear," and went on fixing the buffalo's head. The old womancalled again, saying, "Hurry, hurry with that water." The girl answered,"Wait, I am washing my little brother." Pretty soon the old woman calledout, "If you don't bring that water, I will kill you and your brother." Bythis time the girl had most of the sticks out of the bull's head, and hetold her to get on his back, and went into the water and swam with heracross the river. As he reached the other bank, the girl could see the oldwoman coming from her lodge down to the river with a big stick in her hand.

When the bull reached the bank, the girl jumped off his back and startedoff on the trail of the camp. The bull swam back again to the other side ofthe river, and there stood the old woman. This bull was a sort of servantof the old woman. She said to him: "Why did you take those children acrossthe river? Take me on your back now and carry me across quickly, so that Ican catch them." The bull said, "First take these sticks out of my head.""No," said the old woman; "first take me across, then I will take thesticks out." The bull repeated, "First take the sticks out of my head, thenI will take you across." This made the old woman very mad, and she hit himwith the stick she had in her hand; but when she saw that he would not go,she began to pull the sticks out of his head very roughly, tearing outgreat handfuls of hair, and every moment ordering him to go, andthreatening what she would do to him when she got back. At last the bulltook her on his back, and began to swim across with her, but he did notswim fast enough to please her, so she began to pound him with her club tomake him go faster; and when the bull got to the middle of the river, herolled over on his side, and the old woman slipped off, and was carrieddown the river and drowned.

The girl followed the trail of the camp for several days, feeding onberries and roots that she dug; and at last one night after dark sheovertook the camp. She went into the lodge of an old woman, who was campedoff at one side, and the old woman pitied her and gave her some food, andtold her where her father's lodge was. The girl went to it, but when shewent in, her parents would not receive her. She had tried to overtake themfor the sake of her little brother, who was growing thin and weak becausehe had not nursed; and now her mother was afraid to have her stay withthem. She even went and told the chief that her children had come back. Nowwhen the chief heard that these two children had come back, he was angry;and he ordered that the next day they should be tied to a post in the camp,and that the people should move on and leave them here. "Then," he said,"they cannot follow us."

The old woman who had pitied the children, when she heard what the chiefhad ordered, made up a bundle of dried meat, and hid it in the grass nearthe camp. Then she called her dog to her,—a little curly dog. She said tothe dog:—

"Now listen. To-morrow when we are ready to start, I will call you to cometo me, but you must pay no attention to what I say. Run off, and pretend tobe chasing squirrels. I will try to catch you, and if I do so, I willpretend to whip you; but do not follow me. Stay behind, and when the camphas passed out of sight, chew off the strings that bind those children; andwhen you have done this, show them where I have hidden that food. Then youcan follow the camp and catch up to us." The dog stood before the oldwoman, and listened to all that she said, turning his head from side toside, as if paying close attention.

Next morning it was done as the chief had said. The children were tied tothe tree with raw hide strings, and the people tore down all the lodges andmoved off. The old woman called her dog to follow her, but he was diggingat a gopher hole and would not come. Then she went up to him and struck athim hard with her whip, but he dodged and ran away, and then stood lookingat her. Then the old woman got very mad and cursed him, but he paid noattention; and finally she left him, and followed the camp. When thepeople had all passed out of sight, the dog went to the children, andgnawed the strings which tied them, until he had bitten them through. Sothe children were free.

Then the dog was glad, and danced about and barked and ran round andround. Pretty soon he came up to the little girl, and looked up in herface, and then started away, trotting. Every little while he would stopand look back. The girl thought he wanted her to follow him. She did so,and he took her to where the bundle of dried meat was, and showed it toher. Then, when he had done this, he jumped up on her, and licked thebaby's face, and then started off, running as hard as he could along thetrail of the camp, never stopping to look back. The girl did not followhim. She now knew that it was no use to go to the camp again. Theirparents would not receive them, and the chief would perhaps order them tobe killed.

She went on her way, carrying her little brother and the bundle of driedmeat. She travelled for many days, and at last came to a place where shethought she would stop. Here she built a little lodge of poles and brush,and stayed there. One night she had a dream, and an old woman came to herin the dream, and said to her, "To-morrow take your little brother, and tiehim to one of the lodge poles, and the next day tie him to another, and soevery day tie him to one of the poles, until you have gone all around thelodge and have tied him to each pole. Then you will be helped, and will nomore have bad luck."

When the girl awoke in the morning, she remembered what the dream had toldher, and she bound her little brother to one of the lodge poles; and eachday after this she tied him to one of the poles. Each day he grew larger,until, when she had gone all around the lodge, he was grown to be a fineyoung man.

Now the girl was glad, and proud of her young brother who was so large andnoble-looking. He was quiet, not speaking much, and sometimes for days hewould not say anything. He seemed to be thinking all the time. One morninghe told the girl that he had a dream and that he wished her to help himbuild a pis'kun. She was afraid to ask him about the dream, for she thoughtif she asked questions he might not like it. So she just said she was readyto do what he wished. They built the pis'kun, and when it was finished, theboy said to his sister: "The buffalo are to come to us, and you are not tosee them. When the time comes, you are to cover your head and to hold yourface close to the ground; and do not lift your head nor look, until I throwa piece of kidney to you." The girl said, "It shall be as you say."

When the time came, the boy told her where to go; and she went to theplace, a little way from the lodge, not far from the corral, and sat downon the ground, and covered her head, holding her face close to theearth. After she had sat there a little while, she heard the sound ofanimals running, and she was excited and curious, and raised her head tolook; but all she saw was her brother, standing near, looking ather. Before he could speak, she said to him: "I thought I heard buffalocoming, and because I was anxious for food, I forgot my promise andlooked. Forgive me this time, and I will try again." Again she bent herface to the ground, and covered her head.

Soon she heard again the sound of animals running, at first a long way off,and then coming nearer and nearer, until at last they seemed close, and shethought they were going to run over her. She sprang up in fright and lookedabout, but there was nothing to be seen but her brother, looking sadly ather. She went close to him and said: "Pity me. I was afraid, for I thoughtthe buffalo were going to run over me." He said: "This is the last time. Ifa*gain you look, we will starve; but if you do not look, we will always haveplenty, and will never be without meat." The girl looked at him, and said,"I will try hard this time, and even if those animals run right over me, Iwill not look until you throw the kidney to me." Again she covered herhead, pressing her face against the earth and putting her hands against herears, so that she might not hear. Suddenly, sooner than she thought, shefelt the blow from the meat thrown at her, and, springing up, she seizedthe kidney and began to eat it. Not far away was her brother, bending overa fat cow; and, going up to him, she helped him with the butchering. Afterthat was done, she kindled a fire and cooked the best parts of the meat,and they ate and were satisfied.

The boy became a great hunter. He made fine arrows that went faster than abird could fly, and when he was hunting, he watched all the animals and allthe birds, and learned their ways, and how to imitate them when theycalled. While he was hunting, the girl dressed buffalo hides and the skinsof deer and other animals. She made a fine new lodge, and the boy paintedit with figures of all the birds and the animals he had killed.

One day, when the girl was bringing water, she saw a little way off aperson coming. When she went in the lodge, she told her brother, and hewent out to meet the stranger. He found that he was friendly and washunting, but had had bad luck and killed nothing. He was starving and indespair, when he saw this lone lodge and made up his mind to go to it. Ashe came near it, he began to be afraid, and to wonder if the people wholived there were enemies or ghosts; but he thought, "I may as well die hereas starve," so he went boldly to it. The strange person was very muchsurprised to see this handsome young man with the kind face, who couldspeak his own language. The boy took him into the lodge, and the girl putfood before him. After he had eaten, he told his story, saying that thegame had left them, and that many of his people were dying of hunger. Ashe talked, the girl listened; and at last she remembered the man, and knewthat he belonged to her camp. She asked him questions, and he talked aboutall the people in the camp, and even spoke of the old woman who owned thedog. The boy advised the stranger, after he had rested, to return to hiscamp, and tell the people to move up to this place, that here they wouldfind plenty of game. After he had gone, the boy and his sister talked ofthese things. The girl had often told him what she had suffered, what thechief had said and done, and how their own parents had turned against her,and that the only person whose heart had been good to her was this oldwoman. As the young man heard all this again, he was angry at his parentsand the chief, but he felt great kindness for the old woman and herdog. When he learned that those bad people were living, he made up his mindthat they should suffer and die.

When the strange person reached his own camp, he told the people how wellhe had been treated by these two persons, and that they wished him to bringthe whole camp to where they were, and that there they should have plenty.This made great joy in the camp, and all got ready to move. When theyreached the lost children's camp, they found everything as the stranger hadsaid. The brother gave a feast; and to those whom he liked he gave manypresents, but to the old woman and the dog he gave the best presents ofall. To the chief nothing at all was given, and this made him very muchashamed. To the parents no food was given, but the boy tied a bone to thelodge poles above the fire, and told the parents to eat from it withouttouching it with their hands. They were very hungry, and tried to eat fromthis bone; and as they were stretching out their necks to reach it—for itwas above them—the boy cut off their heads with his knife. This frightenedall the people, the chief most of all; but the boy told them how it allwas, and how he and his sister had survived.

When he had finished speaking, the chief said he was sorry for what he haddone, and he proposed to his people that this young man should be madetheir chief. They were glad to do this. The boy was made the chief, andlived long to rule the people in that camp.

MIK-A'PI—RED OLD MAN

I

It was in the valley of "It fell on them"[1] Creek, near the mountains,that the Pik[)u]n'i were camped when Mik-a'pi went to war. It was far back,in the days of stone knives, long before the white people had come. Thiswas the way it happened.

[Footnote 1: Armells Creek in Northern Montana is calledEt-tsis-ki-ots-op, "It fell on them." A longtime ago a number ofBlackfeet women were digging in a bank near this creek for the red claywhich they use for paint, when the bank gave way and fell on them, buryingand killing them.]

Early in the morning a band of buffalo were seen in the foot-hills of themountains, and some hunters went out to get meat. Carefully they crawledalong up the coulées and drew near to the herd; and, when they had comeclose to them, they began to shoot, and their arrows pierced many fatcows. But even while they were thus shooting, they were surprised by a warparty of Snakes, and they began to run back toward the camp. There was onehunter, named Fox-eye, who was very brave. He called to the others to stop,saying: "They are many and we are few, but the Snakes are not brave. Let usstop and fight them." But the other hunters would not listen. "We have noshields," they said, "nor our war medicine. There are many of theenemy. Why should we foolishly die?"

They hurried on to camp, but Fox-eye would not turn back. He drew hisarrows from the quiver, and prepared to fight. But, even as he placed anarrow, a Snake had crawled up by his side, unseen. In the still air, thePiegan heard the sharp twang of a bow string, but, before he could turn hishead, the long, fine-pointed arrow pierced him through and through. The bowand arrows dropped from his hands, he swayed, and then fell forward on thegrass, dead. But now the warriors came pouring from the camp to aidhim. Too late! The Snakes quickly scalped their fallen enemy, scattered upthe mountain, and were lost to sight.

Now Fox-eye had two wives, and their father and mother and all their nearrelations were dead. All Fox-eye's relatives, too, had long since gone tothe Sand Hills[1]. So these poor widows had no one to avenge them, and theymourned deeply for the husband so suddenly taken from them. Through thelong days they sat on a near hill and mourned, and their mourning was verysad.

[Footnote 1: Sand Hills: the shadow land; place of ghosts; the Blackfootfuture world.]

There was a young warrior named Mik-a'pi. Every morning he was awakened bythe crying of these poor widows, and through the day his heart was touchedby their wailing. Even when he went to rest, their mournful cries reachedhim through the darkness, and he could not sleep. So he sent his mother tothem. "Tell them," he said, "that I wish to speak to them." When they hadentered, they sat close by the door-way, and covered their heads.

"Kyi!" said Mik-a'pi. "For days and nights I have heard your mourning,and I too have silently mourned. My heart has been very sad. Your husbandwas my near friend, and now he is dead and no relations are left to avengehim. So now, I say, I will take the load from your hearts. I will avengehim. I will go to war and take many scalps, and when I return, they shallbe yours. You shall paint your faces black, and we will all rejoice thatFox-eye is avenged."

When the people heard that Mik-a'pi was going to war, many warriors wishedto join him, but he refused them; and when he had taken a medicine sweat,and got a medicine-pipe man to make medicine for him during his absence, hestarted from the camp one evening, just after sunset. It is only thefoolish warrior who travels in the day; for other war parties may be out,or some camp-watcher sitting on a hill may see him from far off, and layplans to destroy him. Mik-a'pi was not one of these. He was brave butcautious, and he had strong medicine. Some say that he was related to theghosts, and that they helped him. Having now started to war against theSnakes, he travelled in hidden places, and at sunrise would climb a hilland look carefully in all directions, and during the long day would liethere, and watch, and take short sleeps.

Now, when Mik-a'pi had come to the Great Falls (of the Missouri), a heavyrain set in; and, seeing a hole in the rocks, he crawled in and lay down inthe farther end to sleep. The rain did not cease, and when night came hecould not travel because of the darkness and storm; so he lay down to sleepagain. But soon he heard something coming into the cave toward him, andthen he felt a hand laid on his breast, and he put out his hand and toucheda person. Then Mik-a'pi put the palm of his hand on the person's breast andjerked it to and fro, and then he touched the person with the point of hisfinger, which, in the sign language, means, "Who are you?"

The strange person then took Mik-a'pi's hand, and made him feel of his ownright hand. The thumb and all the fingers were closed except theforefinger, which was extended; and when Mik-a'pi touched it the personmoved his hand forward with a zigzag motion, which means "Snake." ThenMik-a'pi was glad. Here had come to him one of the tribe he wasseeking. But he thought it best to wait for daylight before attackinghim. So, when the Snake in signs asked him who he was, he replied, bymaking the sign for paddling a canoe, that he was a Pend d'Oreille, orRiver person. For he knew that the Snakes and the Pend d'Oreilles were atpeace.

Then they both lay down to sleep, but Mik-a'pi did not sleep. Through thelong night he watched for the first dim light, so that he might kill hisenemy. The Snake slept soundly; and just at daybreak Mik-a'pi quietlystrung his bow, fitted an arrow, and, taking aim, sent the thin shaftthrough his enemy's heart. The Snake quivered, half rose up, and with agroan fell back dead. Then Mik-a'pi took his scalp and his bow and arrows,and also his bundle of moccasins; and as daylight had come, he went out ofthe cave and looked all about. No one was in sight. Probably the Snake,like himself, had gone alone to war. But, ever cautious, he travelled onlya short distance, and waited for night before going on. The rain had ceasedand the day was warm. He took a piece of dried meat and back fat from hispouch and ate them, and, after drinking from the river, he climbed up on ahigh rock wall and slept.

Now in his dream he fought with a strange people, and was wounded. He feltblood trickling from his wounds, and when he awoke, he knew that he hadbeen warned to turn back. The signs also were bad. He saw an eagle risingwith a snake, which dropped from its claws and escaped. The setting sun,too, was painted[1],—a sure warning to people that danger is near. But, inspite of all these things, Mik-a'pi determined to go on. He thought of thepoor widows mourning and waiting for revenge. He thought of the gladwelcome of the people, if he should return with many scalps; and he thoughtalso of two young sisters, whom he wanted to marry. Surely, if he couldreturn and bring the proofs of brave deeds, their parents would be glad togive them to him.

[Footnote 1: Sun dogs.]

II

It was nearly night. The sun had already disappeared behind thesharp-pointed gray peaks. In the fading light the far-stretching prairiewas turning dark. In a valley, sparsely timbered with quaking aspens andcotton-woods, stood a large camp. For a long distance up and down the riverrose the smoke of many lodges. Seated on a little hill overlooking thevalley, was a single person. With his robe drawn tightly around him, he satthere motionless, looking down on the prairie and valley below.

Slowly and silently something was crawling through the grass towardhim. But he heard nothing. Still he gazed eastward, seeking to discover anyenemy who might be approaching. Still the dark object crawled slowlyonward. Now it was so close to him that it could almost touch him. Theperson thought he heard a sound, and started to turn round. Too late! Toolate! A strong arm grasped him about the neck and covered his mouth. A longjagged knife was thrust into his breast again and again, and he diedwithout a cry. Strange that in all that great camp no one should have seenhim killed!

Still extended on the ground, the dark figure removed the scalp. Slowly hecrawled back down the hill, and was lost in the gathering darkness. It wasMik-a'pi, and he had another Snake scalp tied to his belt. His heart wasglad, yet he was not satisfied. Some nights had passed since the bad signshad warned him, yet he had succeeded. "One more," he said. "One more scalpI must have, and then I will go back." So he went far up on the mountain,and hid in some thick pines and slept. When daylight came, he could seesmoke rise as the women started their fires. He also saw many people rushup on the hill, where the dead watcher lay. He was too far off to heartheir angry shouts and mournful cries, but he sung to himself a song of warand was happy.

Once more the sun went to his lodge behind the mountains, and as darknesscame Mik-a'pi slowly descended the mountain and approached the camp. Thiswas the time of danger. Behind each bush, or hidden in a bunch of the tallrye grass, some person might be watching to warn the camp of an approachingenemy. Slowly and like a snake, he crawled around the outskirts of thecamp, listening and looking. He heard a cough and saw a movement of abush. There was a Snake. Could he kill him and yet escape? He was closeto him now. So he sat and waited, considering how to act. For a long timehe sat there waiting. The moon rose and travelled high in the sky. TheSeven Persons[1] slowly swung around, and pointed downward. It was themiddle of the night. Then the person in the bush stood up and stretched outhis arms and yawned, for he was tired of watching, and thought that nodanger was near; but as he stood thus, an arrow pierced his breast. He gavea loud yell and tried to run, but another arrow struck him and he fell.

[Footnote 1: The constellation of the Great Bear.]

At the sound the warriors rushed forth from the lodges and the outskirts ofthe camp; but as they came, Mik-a'pi tore the scalp from his fallen enemy,and started to run toward the river. Close behind him followed the Snakes.Arrows whizzed about him. One pierced his arm. He plucked it out. Anotherstruck his leg, and he fell. Then a great shout arose from theSnakes. Their enemy was down. Now they would be revenged for two latelytaken lives. But where Mik-a'pi fell was the verge of a high rock wall;below rushed the deep river, and even as they shouted, he rolled from thewall, and disappeared in the dark water far below. In vain they searchedthe shores and bars. They did not find him.

Mik-a'pi had sunk deep in the water. The current was swift, and when atlast he rose to the surface, he was far below his pursuers. The arrow inhis leg pained him, and with difficulty he crawled out on asand-bar. Luckily the arrow was lance-shaped instead of barbed, so hemanaged to draw it out. Near by on the bar was a dry pine log, lodged thereby the high spring water. This he managed to roll into the stream; and,partly resting on it, he again drifted down with the current. All night hefloated down the river, and when morning came he was far from the camp ofthe Snakes. Benumbed with cold and stiff from the arrow wounds, he was gladto crawl out on the bank, and lie down in the warm sunshine. Soon he slept.

III

The sun was already in the middle when he awoke. His wounds were swollenand painful; yet he hobbled on for a time, until the pain became so greathe could go no further, and he sat down, tired and discouraged.

"True the signs," he said. "How crazy I was to go against them! Useless nowmy bravery, for here I must stay and die. The widows will still mourn; andin their old age who will take care of my father and my mother? Pity menow, oh Sun! Help me, oh great Above Medicine Person! Look down on yourwounded and suffering child. Help me to survive!"

What was that crackling in the brush near by? Was it the Snakes on histrail? Mik-a'pi strung his bow and drew out his arrows. No; it was not aSnake. It was a bear. There he stood, a big grizzly bear, looking down atthe wounded man. "What does my brother here?" he said. "Why does he prayto survive?"

"Look at my leg," said Mik-a'pi, "swollen and sore. Look at my woundedarm. I can hardly draw the bow. Far the home of my people, and my strengthis gone. Surely here I must die, for I cannot travel and I have no food."

"Now courage, my brother," said the bear. "Now not faint heart, my brother,for I will help you, and you shall survive."

When he had said this, he lifted Mik-a'pi and carried him to a place ofthick mud; and here he took great handfuls[1] of the mud and plastered thewounds, and he sung a medicine song while putting on the mud. Then hecarried Mik-a'pi to a place where were many sarvis berries, and broke offgreat branches of the fruit, and gave them to him, saying, "Eat, mybrother, eat!" and he broke off more branches, full of large ripe berries,for him; but already Mik-a'pi was satisfied and could eat no more. Thensaid the bear, "Lie down, now, on my back, and hold tight by my hair, andwe will travel on." And when Mik-a'pi had got on and was ready, he startedoff on a long swinging trot.

[Footnote 1: The bear's paws are called O-kits-iks, the term also for aperson's hands. The animal itself is regarded as almost human.]

All through the night he travelled on without stopping. When morning came,they rested awhile, and ate more berries; and again the bear plastered hiswounds with mud. In this way they travelled on, until, on the fourth day,they came close to the lodges of the Pik[)u]n'i; and the people saw themcoming and wondered.

"Get off, my brother, get off," said the bear. "There are your people. Imust leave you." And without another word, he turned and went off up themountain.

All the people came out to meet the warrior, and they carried him to thelodge of his father. He untied the three scalps from his belt and gave themto the widows, saying: "You are revenged. I wipe away your tears." Andevery one rejoiced. All his female relations went through the camp,shouting his name and singing, and every one prepared for the scalp dance.

First came the widows. Their faces were painted black, and they carried thescalps tied on poles. Then came the medicine men, with their medicine pipesunwrapped; then the bands of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi, all dressed in warcostume; then came the old men; and last the women and children. They allsang the war song and danced. They went all through the village in singlefile, stopping here and there to dance, and Mik-a'pi sat outside the lodge,and saw all the people dance by him. He forgot his pain and was proud, andalthough he could not dance, he sang with them.

Soon they made the Medicine Lodge, and, first of all the warriors, Mik-a'piwas chosen to cut the raw-hide which binds the poles, and as he cut thestrands, he counted the coups he had made. He told of the enemies he hadkilled, and all the people shouted his name and praised him. The father ofthose two young sisters gave them to him. He was glad to have such ason-in-law. Long lived Mik-a'pi. Of all the great chiefs who have lived anddied, he was the greatest. He did many other great and daring things. Itmust be true, as the old men have said, that he was helped by the ghosts,for no one can do such things without help from those fearful and unknownpersons.

HEAVY COLLAR AND THE GHOST WOMAN

The Blood camp was on Old Man's River, where Fort McLeod now stands. Aparty of seven men started to war toward the Cypress Hills. Heavy Collarwas the leader. They went around the Cypress Mountains, but found noenemies and started back toward their camp. On their homeward way, HeavyCollar used to take the lead. He would go out far ahead on the high hills,and look over the country, acting as scout for the party. At length theycame to the south branch of the Saskatchewan River, above Seven Persons'Creek. In those days there were many war parties about, and this partytravelled concealed as much as possible in the coulées and low places.

As they were following up the river, they saw at a distance three old bullslying down close to a cut bank. Heavy Collar left his party, and went outto kill one of these bulls, and when he had come close to them, he shot oneand killed it right there. He cut it up, and, as he was hungry, he wentdown into a ravine below him, to roast a piece of meat; for he had left hisparty a long way behind, and night was now coming on. As he was roastingthe meat, he thought,—for he was very tired,—"It is a pity I did notbring one of my young men with me. He could go up on that hill and get somehair from that bull's head, and I could wipe out my gun." While he satthere thinking this, and talking to himself, a bunch of this hair came overhim through the air, and fell on the ground right in front of him. Whenthis happened, it frightened him a little; for he thought that perhaps someof his enemies were close by, and had thrown the bunch of hair athim. After a little while, he took the hair, and cleaned his gun and loadedit, and then sat and watched for a time. He was uneasy, and at lengthdecided that he would go on further up the river, to see what he coulddiscover. He went on, up the stream, until he came to the mouth of theSt. Mary's River. It was now very late in the night, and he was very tired,so he crept into a large bunch of rye-grass to hide and sleep for thenight.

The summer before this, the Blackfeet (Sik-si-kau) had been camped onthis bottom, and a woman had been killed in this same patch of rye-grasswhere Heavy Collar had lain down to rest. He did not know this, but stillhe seemed to be troubled that night. He could not sleep. He could alwayshear something, but what it was he could not make out. He tried to go tosleep, but as soon as he dozed off he kept thinking he heard something inthe distance. He spent the night there, and in the morning when it becamelight, there he saw right beside him the skeleton of the woman who had beenkilled the summer before.

That morning he went on, following up the stream to Belly River. All daylong as he was travelling, he kept thinking about his having slept by thiswoman's bones. It troubled him. He could not forget it. At the same time hewas very tired, because he had walked so far and had slept so little. Asnight came on, he crossed over to an island, and determined to camp for thenight. At the upper end of the island was a large tree that had drifteddown and lodged, and in a fork of this tree he built his fire, and got in acrotch of one of the forks, and sat with his back to the fire, warminghimself, but all the time he was thinking about the woman he had sleptbeside the night before. As he sat there, all at once he heard over beyondthe tree, on the other side of the fire, a sound as if something were beingdragged toward him along the ground. It sounded as if a piece of a lodgewere being dragged over the grass. It came closer and closer.

Heavy Collar was scared. He was afraid to turn his head and look back tosee what it was that was coming. He heard the noise come up to the tree inwhich his fire was built, and then it stopped, and all at once he heardsome one whistling a tune. He turned around and looked toward the sound,and there, sitting on the other fork of the tree, right opposite to him,was the pile of bones by which he had slept, only now all together in theshape of a skeleton. This ghost had on it a lodge covering. The string,which is tied to the pole, was fastened about the ghost's neck; the wingsof the lodge stood out on either side of its head, and behind it the lodgecould be seen, stretched out and fading away into the darkness. The ghostsat on the old dead limb and whistled its tune, and as it whistled, itswung its legs in time to the tune.

When Heavy Collar saw this, his heart almost melted away. At length hemustered up courage, and said: "Oh ghost, go away, and do not trouble me. Iam very tired; I want to rest." The ghost paid no attention to him, butkept on whistling, swinging its legs in time to the tune. Four times heprayed to her, saying: "Oh ghost, take pity on me! Go away and leave mealone. I am tired; I want to rest." The more he prayed, the more the ghostwhistled and seemed pleased, swinging her legs, and turning her head fromside to side, sometimes looking down at him, and sometimes up at the stars,and all the time whistling.

When he saw that she took no notice of what he said, Heavy Collar got angryat heart, and said, "Well, ghost, you do not listen to my prayers, and Ishall have to shoot you to drive you away." With that he seized his gun,and throwing it to his shoulder, shot right at the ghost. When he shot ather, she fell over backward into the darkness, screaming out: "Oh HeavyCollar, you have shot me, you have killed me! You dog, Heavy Collar! thereis no place on this earth where you can go that I will not find you; noplace where you can hide that I will not come."

As she fell back and said this, Heavy Collar sprang to his feet, and ranaway as fast as he could. She called after him: "I have been killed once,and now you are trying to kill me again. Oh Heavy Collar!" As he ran away,he could still hear her angry words following him, until at last they diedaway in the distance. He ran all night long, and whenever he stopped tobreathe and listen, he seemed to hear in the distance the echoes of hervoice. All he could hear was, "Oh Heavy Collar!" and then he would rushaway again. He ran until he was all tired out, and by this time it wasdaylight. He was now quite a long way below Fort McLeod. He was verysleepy, but dared not lie down, for he remembered that the ghost had saidthat she would follow him. He kept walking on for some time, and then satdown to rest, and at once fell asleep.

Before he had left his party, Heavy Collar had said to his young men: "Nowremember, if any one of us should get separated from the party, let himalways travel to the Belly River Buttes. There will be our meeting-place."When their leader did not return to them, the party started across thecountry and went toward the Belly River Buttes. Heavy Collar had followedthe river up, and had gone a long distance out of his way; and when heawoke from his sleep he too started straight for the Belly River Buttes, ashe had said he would.

When his party reached the Buttes, one of them went up on top of the hillto watch. After a time, as he looked down the river, he saw two personscoming, and as they came nearer, he saw that one of them was Heavy Collar,and by his side was a woman. The watcher called up the rest of the party,and said to them: "Here comes our chief. He has had luck. He is bringing awoman with him. If he brings her into camp, we will take her away fromhim." And they all laughed. They supposed that he had captured her. Theywent down to the camp, and sat about the fire, looking at the two peoplecoming, and laughing among themselves at the idea of their chief bringingin a woman. When the two persons had come close, they could see that HeavyCollar was walking fast, and the woman would walk by his side a little way,trying to keep up, and then would fall behind, and then trot along to catchup to him again. Just before the pair reached camp there was a deep ravinethat they had to cross. They went down into this side by side, and thenHeavy Collar came up out of it alone, and came on into the camp.

When he got there, all the young men began to laugh at him and to call out,"Heavy Collar, where is your woman?" He looked at them for a moment, andthen said: "Why, I have no woman. I do not understand what you are talkingabout." One of them said: "Oh, he has hidden her in that ravine. He wasafraid to bring her into camp." Another said, "Where did you capture her,and what tribe does she belong to?" Heavy Collar looked from one toanother, and said: "I think you are all crazy. I have taken no woman. Whatdo you mean?" The young man said: "Why, that woman that you had with youjust now: where did you get her, and where did you leave her? Is she downin the coulée? We all saw her, and it is no use to deny that she was withyou. Come now, where is she?" When they said this, Heavy Collar's heartgrew very heavy, for he knew that it must have been the ghost woman; and hetold them the story. Some of the young men could not believe this, and theyran down to the ravine, where they had last seen the woman. There they sawin the soft dirt the tracks made by Heavy Collar, when he went down intothe ravine, but there were no other tracks near his, where they had seenthe woman walking. When they found that it was a ghost that had come alongwith Heavy Collar, they resolved to go back to their main camp. The partyhad been out so long that their moccasins were all worn out, and some ofthem were footsore, so that they could not travel fast, but at last theycame to the cut banks, and there found their camp—seven lodges.

That night, after they had reached camp, they were inviting each other tofeasts. It was getting pretty late in the night, and the moon was shiningbrightly, when one of the Bloods called out for Heavy Collar to come andeat with him. Heavy Collar shouted, "Yes, I will be there pretty soon." Hegot up and went out of the lodge, and went a little way from it, and satdown. While he was sitting there, a big bear walked out of the brush closeto him. Heavy Collar felt around him for a stone to throw at the bear, soas to scare it away, for he thought it had not seen him. As he was feelingabout, his hand came upon a piece of bone, and he threw this over at thebear, and hit it. Then the bear spoke, and said: "Well, well, well, HeavyCollar; you have killed me once, and now here you are hitting me. Where isthere a place in this world where you can hide from me? I will find you, Idon't care where you may go." When Heavy Collar heard this, he knew it wasthe ghost woman, and he jumped up and ran toward his lodge, calling out,"Run, run! a ghost bear is upon us!"

All the people in the camp ran to his lodge, so that it was crowded full ofpeople. There was a big fire in the lodge, and the wind was blowing hardfrom the west. Men, women, and children were huddled together in the lodge,and were very much afraid of the ghost. They could hear her walking towardthe lodge, grumbling, and saying: "I will kill all these dogs. Not one ofthem shall get away." The sounds kept coming closer and closer, until theywere right at the lodge door. Then she said, "I will smoke you to death."And as she said this, she moved the poles, so that the wings of the lodgeturned toward the west, and the wind could blow in freely through the smokehole. All this time she was threatening terrible things against them. Thelodge began to get full of smoke, and the children were crying, and allwere in great distress—almost suffocating. So they said, "Let us lift oneman up here inside, and let him try to fix the ears, so that the lodge willget clear of smoke." They raised a man up, and he was standing on theshoulders of the others, and, blinded and half strangled by the smoke, wastrying to turn the wings. While he was doing this, the ghost suddenly hitthe lodge a blow, and said, "Un!" and this scared the people who wereholding the man, and they jumped and let him go, and he fell down. Then thepeople were in despair, and said, "It is no use; she is resolved to smokeus to death." All the time the smoke was getting thicker in the lodge.

Heavy Collar said: "Is it possible that she can destroy us? Is there no onehere who has some strong dream power that can overcome this ghost?"

His mother said: "I will try to do something. I am older than any of you,and I will see what I can do." So she got down her medicine bundle andpainted herself, and got out a pipe and filled it and lighted it, and stuckthe stem out through the lodge door, and sat there and began to pray to theghost woman. She said: "Oh ghost, take pity on us, and go away. We havenever wronged you, but you are troubling us and frightening ourchildren. Accept what I offer you, and leave us alone."

A voice came from behind the lodge and said: "No, no, no; you dogs, I willnot listen to you. Every one of you must die."

The old woman repeated her prayer: "Ghost, take pity on us. Accept thissmoke and go away."

Then the ghost said: "How can you expect me to smoke, when I am way backhere? Bring that pipe out here. I have no long bill to reach round thelodge." So the old woman went out of the lodge door, and reached out thestem of the pipe as far as she could reach around toward the back of thelodge. The ghost said: "No, I do not wish to go around there to where youhave that pipe. If you want me to smoke it, you must bring it here." Theold woman went around the lodge toward her, and the ghost woman began toback away, and said, "No, I do not smoke that kind of a pipe." And when theghost started away, the old woman followed her, and she could not helpherself.

She called out, "Oh my children, the ghost is carrying me off!" HeavyCollar rushed out, and called to the others, "Come, and help me take mymother from the ghost." He grasped his mother about the waist and held her,and another man took him by the waist, and another him, until they were allstrung out, one behind the other, and all following the old woman, who wasfollowing the ghost woman, who was walking away.

All at once the old woman let go of the pipe, and fell over dead. The ghostdisappeared, and they were troubled no more by the ghost woman.

THE WOLF-MAN

There was once a man who had two bad wives. They had no shame. The manthought if he moved away where there were no other people, he might teachthese women to become good, so he moved his lodge away off on the prairie.Near where they camped was a high butte, and every evening about sundown,the man would go up on top of it, and look all over the country to seewhere the buffalo were feeding, and if any enemies were approaching. Therewas a buffalo skull on the hill, which he used to sit on.

"This is very lonesome," said one woman to the other, one day. "We have noone to talk with nor to visit."

"Let us kill our husband," said the other. "Then we will go back to ourrelations and have a good time."

Early in the morning, the man went out to hunt, and as soon as he was outof sight, his wives went up on top of the butte. There they dug a deep pit,and covered it over with light sticks, grass, and dirt, and placed thebuffalo skull on top.

In the afternoon they saw their husband coming home, loaded down with meathe had killed. So they hurried to cook for him. After eating, he went up onthe butte and sat down on the skull. The slender sticks gave way, and hefell into the pit. His wives were watching him, and when they saw himdisappear, they took down the lodge, packed everything on the dog travois,and moved off, going toward the main camp. When they got near it, so thatthe people could hear them, they began to cry and mourn.

"Why is this?" they were asked. "Why are you mourning? Where is yourhusband?"

"He is dead," they replied. "Five days ago he went out to hunt, and henever came back." And they cried and mourned again.

When the man fell into the pit, he was hurt. After a while he tried to getout, but he was so badly bruised he could not climb up. A wolf, travellingalong, came to the pit and saw him, and pitied him. Ah-h-w-o-o-o-o!Ah-h-w-o-o-o-o! he howled, and when the other wolves heard him they allcame running to see what was the matter. There came also many coyotes,badgers, and kit-foxes.

"In this hole," said the wolf, "is my find. Here is a fallen-in man. Let usdig him out, and we will have him for our brother."

They all thought the wolf spoke well, and began to dig. In a little whilethey had a hole close to the man. Then the wolf who found him said, "Holdon; I want to speak a few words to you." All the animals listening, hecontinued, "We will all have this man for our brother, but I found him, soI think he ought to live with us big wolves." All the others said that thiswas well; so the wolf went into the hole, and tearing down the rest of thedirt, dragged the almost dead man out. They gave him a kidney to eat, andwhen he was able to walk a little, the big wolves took him to theirhome. Here there was a very old blind wolf, who had powerful medicine. Hecured the man, and made his head and hands look like those of a wolf. Therest of his body was not changed.

In those days the people used to make holes in the pis'kun walls and setsnares, and when wolves and other animals came to steal meat, they werecaught by the neck. One night the wolves all went down to the pis'kun tosteal meat, and when they got close to it, the man-wolf said: "Stand here alittle while. I will go down and fix the places, so you will not becaught." He went on and sprung all the snares; then he went back and calledthe wolves and others,—the coyotes, badgers, and foxes,—and they all wentin the pis'kun and feasted, and took meat to carry home.

In the morning the people were surprised to find the meat gone, and theirnooses all drawn out. They wondered how it could have been done. For manynights the nooses were drawn and the meat stolen; but once, when the wolveswent there to steal, they found only the meat of a scabby bull, and theman-wolf was angry, and cried out: "Bad-you-give-us-o-o-o!Bad-you-give-us-o-o-o-o!"

The people heard him, and said: "It is a man-wolf who has done all this. Wewill catch him." So they put pemmican and nice back fat in the pis'kun, andmany hid close by. After dark the wolves came again, and when the man-wolfsaw the good food, he ran to it and began eating. Then the people allrushed in and caught him with ropes and took him to a lodge. When they gotinside to the light of the fire, they knew at once who it was. They said,"This is the man who was lost."

"No," said the man, "I was not lost. My wives tried to kill me. They dug adeep hole, and I fell into it, and I was hurt so badly that I could not getout; but the wolves took pity on me and helped me, or I would have diedthere."

When the people heard this, they were angry, and they told the man to dosomething.

"You say well," he replied. "I give those women to the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi;they know what to do."

After that night the two women were never seen again.

THE FAST RUNNERS

Once, long ago, the antelope and the deer met on the prairie. At this timeboth of them had galls and both dew claws. They began to talk together, andeach was telling the other what he could do. Each one told how fast hecould run, and before long they were disputing as to which could run thefaster. Neither would allow that the other could beat him, so they agreedthat they would have a race to decide which was the swifter, and they bettheir galls on the race. When they ran, the antelope proved the fasterrunner, and beat the deer and took his gall.

Then the deer said: "Yes, you have beaten me on the prairie, but that isnot where I live. I only go out there sometimes to feed, or when I amtravelling around. We ought to have another race in the timber. That is myhome, and there I can run faster than you can."

The antelope felt very big because he had beaten the deer in the race, andhe thought wherever they might be, he could run faster than the deer. So heagreed to race in the timber, and on this race they bet their dew claws.

They ran through the thick timber, among the brush and over fallen logs,and this time the antelope ran slowly, because he was not used to this kindof travelling, and the deer easily beat him, and took his dew claws.

Since then the deer has had no gall, and the antelope no dew claws.

[NOTE. A version of the first portion of this story is current among the
Pawnees, and has been printed in Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk Tales.]

TWO WAR TRAILS

I

Many years ago there lived in the Blood camp a boy named Screech Owl(A'-tsi-tsi). He was rather a lonely boy, and did not care to go with otherboys. He liked better to be by himself. Often he would go off alone, andstay out all night away from the camp. He used to pray to all kinds ofbirds and animals that he saw, and ask them to take pity on him and helphim, saying that he wanted to be a warrior. He never used paint. He was afine looking young man, and he thought it was foolish to use paint to makeoneself good looking.

When Screech Owl was about fourteen years old, a large party of Blackfeetwere starting to war against the Crees and the Assinaboines. The young mansaid to his father: "Father, with this war party many of my cousins aregoing. I think that now I am old enough to go to war, and I would like tojoin them." His father said, "My son, I am willing; you may go." So hejoined the party.

His father gave his son his own war horse, a black horse with a white spoton its side—a very fast horse. He offered him arms, but the boy refusedthem all, except a little trapping axe. He said, "I think this hatchet willbe all that I shall need." Just as they were about to start, his fathergave the boy his own war headdress. This was not a war bonnet, but a plumemade of small feathers, the feathers of thunder birds, for the thunder birdwas his father's medicine. He said to the boy, "Now, my son, when you gointo battle, put this plume in your head, and wear it as I have worn it."

The party started and travelled north-east, and at length they came towhere Fort Pitt now stands, on the Saskatchewan River. When they had gotdown below Fort Pitt, they saw three riders, going out hunting. These menhad not seen the war party. The Blackfeet started around the men, so as tohead them off when they should run. When they saw the men, the Screech Owlgot off his horse, and took off all his clothes, and put on his father'swar plume, and began to ride around, singing his father's war song. Theolder warriors were getting ready for the attack, and when they saw thisyoung boy acting in this way, they thought he was making fun of the oldermen, and they said: "Here, look at this boy! Has he no shame? He had betterstay behind." When they got on their horses, they told him to stay behind,and they charged the Crees. But the boy, instead of staying behind, chargedwith them, and took the lead, for he had the best horse of all. He, a boy,was leading the war party, and still singing his war song.

The three Crees began to run, and the boy kept gaining on them. They didnot want to separate, they kept together; and as the boy was getting closerand closer, the last one turned in his saddle and shot at the Screech Owl,but missed him. As the Cree fired, the boy whipped up his horse, and rodeup beside the Cree and struck him with his little trapping axe, and knockedhim off his horse. He paid no attention to the man that he had struck, butrode on to the next Cree. As he came up with him, the Cree raised his gunand fired, but just as he did so, the Blackfoot dropped down on the otherside of his horse, and the ball passed over him. He straightened up on hishorse, rode up by the Cree, and as he passed, knocked him off his horsewith his axe. When he knocked the second Cree off his horse, the Blackfeet,who were following, whooped in triumph and to encourage him, shouting,"A-wah-heh'" (Take courage). The boy was still singing his father's warsong.

By this time, the main body of the Blackfeet were catching up with him. Hewhipped his horse on both sides, and rode on after the third Cree, who wasalso whipping his horse as hard as he could, and trying to getaway. Meantime, some of the Blackfeet had stopped to count coup on andscalp the two dead Crees, and to catch the two ponies. Screech Owl at lastgot near to the third Cree, who kept aiming his gun at him. The boy did notwant to get too close, until the Cree had fired his gun, but he was gaininga little, and all the time was throwing himself from side to side on hishorse, so as to make it harder for the Cree to hit him. When he had nearlyovertaken the enemy, the Cree turned, raised his gun and fired; but the boyhad thrown himself down behind his horse, and again the ball passed overhim. He raised himself up on his horse, and rushed on the Cree, and struckhim in the side of the body with his axe, and then again, and with thesecond blow, he knocked him off his horse.

The boy rode on a little further, stopped, and jumped off his horse, whilethe rest of the Blackfeet had come up and were killing the fallen man. Hestood off to one side and watched them count coup on and scalp the dead.

The Blackfeet were much surprised at what the young man had done. After alittle while, the leader decided that they would go back to the camp fromwhich they had come. When he had returned from this war journey this youngman's name was changed from A'-tsi-tsi to E-k[=u]s'-kini (Low Horn). Thiswas his first war path.

From that time on the name of E-k[=u]s'-kini was often heard as that of onedoing some great deed.

II

E-k[=u]s'-kini started on his last war trail from the Black-foot crossing(Su-yoh-pah'-wah-ku). He led a party of six Sarcees. He was the seventhman.

On the second day out, they came to the Red Deer's River. When they reachedthis river, they found it very high, so they built a raft to cross on. Theycamped on the other side. In crossing, most of their powder got wet. Thenext morning, when they awoke, E-k[=u]s'-kini said: "Well, trouble iscoming for us. We had better go back from here. We started on a wrongday. I saw in my sleep our bodies lying on the prairie, dead." Some of theyoung men said: "Oh well, we have started, we had better go on. Perhaps itis only a mistake. Let us go on and try to take some horses anyhow."E-k[=u]s'-kini said: "Yes, that is very true. To go home is allfoolishness; but remember that it is by your wish that we are going on."He wanted to go back, not on his own account, but for the sake of his youngmen—to save his followers.

From there they went on and made another camp, and the next morning he saidto his young men: "Now I am sure. I have seen it for certain. Trouble isbefore us." They camped two nights at this place and dried some of theirpowder, but most of it was caked and spoilt. He said to his young men:"Here, let us use some sense about this. We have no ammunition. We cannotdefend ourselves. Let us turn back from here." So they started across thecountry for their camp.

They crossed the Red Deer's River, and there camped again. The next morningE-k[=u]s'-kini said: "I feel very uneasy to-day. Two of you go ahead on thetrail and keep a close lookout. I am afraid that to-day we are going to seeour enemy." Two of the young men went ahead, and when they had climbed tothe top of a ridge and looked over it on to Sarvis Berry (Saskatoon) Creek,they came back and told E-k[=u]s'-kini that they had seen a large camp ofpeople over there, and that they thought it was the Piegans, Bloods,Blackfeet, and Sarcees, who had all moved over there together. SaskatoonCreek was about twenty miles from the Blackfoot camp. He said: "No, itcannot be our people. They said nothing about moving over here; it must bea war party. It is only a few days since we left, and there was then notalk of their leaving that camp. It cannot be they." The two young mensaid: "Yes, they are our people. There are too many of them for a warparty. We think that the whole camp is there." They discussed this for somelittle time, E-k[=u]s'-kini insisting that it could not be the Blackfootcamp, while the young men felt sure that it was. These two men said, "Well,we are going on into the camp now." Low Horn said: "Well, you may go. Tellmy father that I will come into the camp to-night. I do not like to go inin the daytime, when I am not bringing back anything with me."

It was now late in the afternoon, and the two young men went ahead towardthe camp, travelling on slowly. A little after sundown, they came down thehill on to the flat of the river, and saw there the camp. They walked downtoward it, to the edge of the stream, and there met two women, who had comedown after water. The men spoke to them in Sarcee, and said, "Where is theSarcee camp?" The women did not understand them, so they spoke again, andasked the same question in Blackfoot. Then these two women called out inthe Cree language, "Here are two Blackfeet, who have come here and aretalking to us." When these men heard the women talk Cree, and saw what amistake they had made, they turned and ran away up the creek. They ran upabove camp a short distance, to a place where a few willow bushes werehanging over the stream, and pushing through these, they hid under thebank, and the willows above concealed them. The people in the camp camerushing out, and men ran up the creek, and down, and looked everywhere forthe two enemies, but could find nothing of them.

Now when these people were running in all directions, hunting for these twomen, E-k[=u]s'-kini was coming down the valley slowly with the four otherSarcees. He saw some Indians coming toward him, and supposed that they weresome of his own people, coming to meet him, with horses for him to ride. Atlength, when they were close to him, and E-k[=u]s'-kini could see that theywere the enemy, and were taking the covers off their guns, he jumped to oneside and stood alone and began to sing his war song. He called out,"Children of the Crees, if you have come to try my manhood, do your best."In a moment or two he was surrounded, and they were shooting at him fromall directions. He called out again, "People, you can't kill me here, butI will take my body to your camp, and there you shall kill me." So headvanced, fighting his way toward the Cree camp, but before he started, hekilled two of the Crees there. His enemies kept coming up and clusteringabout him: some were on foot and some on horseback. They were thick abouthim on all sides, and they could not shoot much at him, for fear of killingtheir own people on the other side.

One of the Sarcees fell. E-k[=u]s'-kini said to his men, "A-wah-heh'"(Take courage). "These people cannot kill us here. Where that patch ofchoke-cherry brush is, in the very centre of their camp, we will go andtake our stand." Another Sarcee fell, and now there were only three ofthem. E-k[=u]s'-kini said to his remaining men: "Go straight to that patchof brush, and I will fight the enemy off in front and at the sides, and sowill keep the way open for you. These people cannot kill us here. There aretoo many of their own people. If we can get to that brush, we will hurtthem badly." All this time they were killing enemies, fighting bravely, andsinging their war songs. At last they gained the patch of brush, and thenwith their knives they began to dig holes in the ground, and to throw up ashelter.

In the Cree camp was K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s (Round), the chief of theCrees, who could talk Blackfoot well. He called out: "E-k[=u]s'-kini, thereis a little ravine running out of that brush patch, which puts into thehills. Crawl out through that, and try to get away. It is not guarded."E-k[=u]s'-kini replied: "No, Children of the Crees, I will not go. You mustremember that it is E-k[=u]s'-kini that you are fighting with—a man whohas done much harm to your people. I am glad that I am here. I am sorry foronly one thing; that is, that my ammunition is going to run out. To-morrowyou may kill me."

All night long the fight was kept up, the enemy shooting all the time, andall night long E-k[=u]s'-kini sang his death song. K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]scalled to him several times: "E-k[=u]s'-kini, you had better do what I tellyou. Try to get away." But he shouted back, "No," and laughed at them. Hesaid: "You have killed all my men. I am here alone, but you cannot killme." K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s, the chief, said: "Well, if you are there atdaylight in the morning, I will go into that brush and will catch you withmy hands. I will be the man who will put an end to you." E-k[=u]s'-kinisaid: "K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s, do not try to do that. If you do, you shallsurely die." The patch of brush in which he had hidden had now been allshot away, cut off by the bullets of the enemy.

When day came, E-k[=u]s'-kini called out: "Eh, K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s, itis broad daylight now. I have run out of ammunition. I have not anothergrain of powder in my horn. Now come and take me in your hands, as yousaid you would." K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s answered: "Yes, I said that I wasthe one who was going to catch you this morning. Now I am coming."

He took off all his clothes, and alone rushed for thebreastworks. E-k[=u]s'-kini's ammunition was all gone, but he still had oneload in his gun, and his dagger. K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s came on with hisgun at his shoulder, and E-k[=u]s'-kini sat there with his gun in his hand,looking at the man who was coming toward him with the co*cked gun pointed athim. He was singing his death song. As K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s got up close,and just as he was about to fire, E-k[=u]s'-kini threw up his gun andfired, and the ball knocked off the Cree chiefs forefinger, and going on,entered his right eye and came out at the temple, knocking the eyeout. K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s went down, and his gun flew a long way.

When K[)o]m-in'-[)a]-k[=u]s fell, the whole camp shouted the war whoop, andcried out, "This is his last shot," and they all charged on him. They knewthat he had no more ammunition.

The head warrior of the Crees was named Bunch of Lodges. He was the firstman to jump inside the breastworks. As he sprang inside, E-k[=u]s'-kinimet him, and thrust his dagger through him, and killed him on the spot.Then, as the enemy threw themselves on him, and he began to feel the knivesstuck into him from all sides, he gave a war whoop and laughed, and said,"Only now I begin to think that I am fighting." All the time he was cuttingand stabbing, jumping backward and forward, and all the time laughing. Whenhe was dead, there were fifteen dead Crees lying about theearthworks. E-k[=u]s'-kini body was cut into small pieces and scattered allover the country, so that he might not come to life again.

III

That morning, before it was daylight, the two Sarcees who had hidden in thewillows left their hiding-place and made their way to the Blackfootcamp. When they got there, they told that when they had left the Cree campE-k[=u]s'kini was surrounded, and the firing was terrible. WhenE-k[=u]s'-kini's father heard this, he got on his horse and rode throughthe camp, calling out: "My boy is surrounded; let us turn out and go tohelp him. I have no doubt they are many tens to one, but he is powerful,and he may be fighting yet." No time was lost in getting ready, and soon alarge party started for the Cree camp. When they came to the battle-ground,the camp had been moved a long time. The old man looked about, trying togather up his son's body, but it was found only in small pieces, and notmore than half of it could be gathered up.

After the fight was over, the Crees started on down to go to their owncountry. One day six Crees were travelling along on foot, scouting farahead. As they were going down into a little ravine, a grizzly bear jumpedup in front of them and ran after them. The bear overtook, and tore up,five of them, one after another. The sixth got away, and came home tocamp. The Crees and the Blackfeet believe that this was the spirit ofE-k[=u]s'-kini, for thus he comes back. They think that he is still on theearth, but in a different shape.

E-k[=u]s'-kini was killed about forty years ago. When he was killed, he wasstill a boy, not married, only about twenty-four years old.

ORIGIN OF THE MEDICINE LODGE

I

In the earliest times there was no war. All the tribes were at peace. Inthose days there was a man who had a daughter, a very beautiful girl. Manyyoung men wanted to marry her, but every time she was asked, she only shookher head and said she did not want a husband.

"How is this?" asked her father. "Some of these young men are rich,handsome, and brave."

"Why should I marry?" replied the girl. "I have a rich father andmother. Our lodge is good. The parfleches are never empty. There are plentyof tanned robes and soft furs for winter. Why worry me, then?"

The Raven Bearers held a dance; they all dressed carefully and wore theirornaments, and each one tried to dance the best. Afterwards some of themasked for this girl, but still she said no. Then the Bulls, the Kit-foxes,and others of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi held their dances, and all those whowere rich, many great warriors, asked this man for his daughter, but toevery one of them she said no. Then her father was angry, and said: "Why,now, this way? All the best men have asked for you, and still you say no. Ibelieve you have a secret lover."

"Ah!" said her mother. "What shame for us should a child be born and ourdaughter still unmarried!" "Father! mother!" replied the girl, "pity me. Ihave no secret lover, but now hear the truth. That Above Person, the Sun,told me, 'Do not marry any of those men, for you are mine; thus you shallbe happy, and live to great age'; and again he said, 'Take heed. You mustnot marry. You are mine.'"

"Ah!" replied her father. "It must always be as he says." And they talkedno more about it.

There was a poor young man, very poor. His father, mother, all hisrelations, had gone to the Sand Hills. He had no lodge, no wife to tan hisrobes or sew his moccasins. He stopped in one lodge to-day, and to-morrowhe ate and slept in another; thus he lived. He was a good-looking youngman, except that on his cheek he had a scar, and his clothes were alwaysold and poor.

After those dances some of the young men met this poor Scarface, and theylaughed at him, and said: "Why don't you ask that girl to marry you? Youare so rich and handsome!" Scarface did not laugh; he replied: "Ah! I willdo as you say. I will go and ask her." All the young men thought this wasfunny. They laughed a great deal. But Scarface went down by the river. Hewaited by the river, where the women came to get water, and by and by thegirl came along. "Girl," he said, "wait. I want to speak with you. Not as adesigning person do I ask you, but openly where the Sun looks down, and allmay see."

"Speak then," said the girl.

"I have seen the days," continued the young man "You have refused those whoare young, and rich, and brave. Now, to-day, they laughed and said to me,'Why do you not ask her?' I am poor, very poor. I have no lodge, no food,no clothes, no robes and warm furs. I have no relations; all have gone tothe Sand Hills; yet, now, to-day, I ask you, take pity, be my wife."

The girl hid her face in her robe and brushed the ground with the point ofher moccasin, back and forth, back and forth; for she was thinking. After atime she said: "True. I have refused all those rich young men, yet now thepoor one asks me, and I am glad. I will be your wife, and my people will behappy. You are poor, but it does not matter. My father will give youdogs. My mother will make us a lodge. My people will give us robes andfurs. You will be poor no longer."

Then the young man was happy, and he started to kiss her, but she held himback, and said: "Wait! The Sun has spoken to me. He says I may not marry;that I belong to him. He says if I listen to him, I shall live to greatage. But now I say: Go to the Sun. Tell him, 'She whom you spoke withheeds your words. She has never done wrong, but now she wants to marry. Iwant her for my wife.' Ask him to take that scar from your face. That willbe his sign. I will know he is pleased. But if he refuses, or if you failto find his lodge, then do not return to me."

"Oh!" cried the young man, "at first your words were good. I was glad. Butnow it is dark. My heart is dead. Where is that far-off lodge? where thetrail, which no one yet has travelled?"

"Take courage, take courage!" said the girl; and she went to her lodge.

II

Scarface was very sad. He sat down and covered his head with his robe andtried to think what to do. After a while he got up, and went to an oldwoman who had been kind to him. "Pity me," he said. "I am very poor. I amgoing away now on a long journey. Make me some moccasins."

"Where are you going?" asked the old woman. "There is no war; we are verypeaceful here."

"I do not know where I shall go," replied Scarface. "I am in trouble, but Icannot tell you now what it is."

So the old woman made him some moccasins, seven pairs, with parflechesoles, and also she gave him a sack of food,—pemmican of berries, poundedmeat, and dried back fat; for this old woman had a good heart. She likedthe young man.

All alone, and with a sad heart, he climbed the bluffs and stopped to takea last look at the camp. He wondered if he would ever see his sweetheartand the people again. " Hai'-yu! Pity me, O Sun," he prayed, and turning,he started to find the trail.

For many days he travelled on, over great prairies, along timbered riversand among the mountains, and every day his sack of food grew lighter; buthe saved it as much as he could, and ate berries, and roots, and sometimeshe killed an animal of some kind. One night he stopped by the home of awolf. "Hai-yah!" said that one; "what is my brother doing so far fromhome?"

"Ah!" replied Scarface, "I seek the place where the Sun lives; I am sent tospeak with him."

"I have travelled far," said the wolf. "I know all the prairies, thevalleys, and the mountains, but I have never seen the Sun's home. Wait; Iknow one who is very wise. Ask the bear. He may tell you."

The next day the man travelled on again, stopping now and then to pick afew berries, and when night came he arrived at the bear's lodge.

"Where is your home?" asked the bear. "Why are you travelling alone, mybrother?"

"Help me! Pity me!" replied the young man; "because of her words[1] I seekthe Sun. I go to ask him for her."

[Footnote 1: A Blackfoot often talks of what this or that person said,without mentioning names.]

"I know not where he stops," replied the bear. "I have travelled by manyrivers, and I know the mountains, yet I have never seen his lodge. There issome one beyond, that striped-face, who is very smart. Go and ask him."

The badger was in his hole. Stooping over, the young man shouted: "Oh,cunning striped-face! Oh, generous animal! I wish to speak with you."

"What do you want?" said the badger, poking his head out of the hole.

"I want to find the Sun's home," replied Scarface. "I want to speak withhim."

"I do not know where he lives," replied the badger. "I never travel veryfar. Over there in the timber is a wolverine. He is always travellingaround, and is of much knowledge. Maybe he can tell you."

Then Scarface went to the woods and looked all around for the wolverine,but could not find him. So he sat down to rest "Hai'-yu! Hai'-yu!" hecried. "Wolverine, take pity on me. My food is gone, my moccasins worn out.Now I must die."

"What is it, my brother?" he heard, and looking around, he saw the animalsitting near.

"She whom I would marry," said Scarface, "belongs to the Sun; I am tryingto find where he lives, to ask him for her."

"Ah!" said the wolverine. "I know where he lives. Wait; it is nearlynight. To-morrow I will show you the trail to the big water. He lives onthe other side of it."

Early in the morning, the wolverine showed him the trail, and Scarfacefollowed it until he came to the water's edge. He looked out over it, andhis heart almost stopped. Never before had any one seen such a bigwater. The other side could not be seen, and there was no end toit. Scarface sat down on the shore. His food was all gone, his moccasinsworn out. His heart was sick. "I cannot cross this big water," he said. "Icannot return to the people. Here, by this water, I shall die."

Not so. His Helpers were there. Two swans came swimming up to theshore. "Why have you come here?" they asked him. "What are you doing? It isvery far to the place where your people live."

"I am here," replied Scarface, "to die. Far away, in my country, is abeautiful girl. I want to marry her, but she belongs to the Sun. So Istarted to find him and ask for her. I have travelled many days. My food isgone. I cannot go back. I cannot cross this big water, so I am going todie."

"No," said the swans; "it shall not be so. Across this water is the home ofthat Above Person. Get on our backs, and we will take you there."

Scarface quickly arose. He felt strong again. He waded out into the waterand lay down on the swans' backs, and they started off. Very deep and blackis that fearful water. Strange people live there, mighty animals whichoften seize and drown a person. The swans carried him safely, and took himto the other side. Here was a broad hard trail leading back from thewater's edge.

"Kyi" said the swans. "You are now close to the Sun's lodge. Follow thattrail, and you will soon see it."

III

Scarface started up the trail, and pretty soon he came to some beautifulthings, lying in it. There was a war shirt, a shield, and a bow andarrows. He had never seen such pretty weapons; but he did not touchthem. He walked carefully around them, and travelled on. A little wayfurther on, he met a young man, the handsomest person he had ever seen. Hishair was very long, and he wore clothing made of strange skins. Hismoccasins were sewn with bright colored feathers. The young man said tohim, "Did you see some weapons lying on the trail?"

"Yes," replied Scarface; "I saw them."

"But did you not touch them?" asked the young man.

"No; I thought some one had left them there, so I did not take them."

"You are not a thief," said the young man. "What is your name?"

"Scarface."

"Where are you going?"

"To the Sun."

"My name," said the young man, "is A-pi-su'-ahts[1]. The Sun is my father;come, I will take you to our lodge. My father is not now at home, but hewill come in at night."

[Footnote 1: Early Riser, i.e. The Morning Star.]

Soon they came to the lodge. It was very large and handsome; strangemedicine animals were painted on it. Behind, on a tripod, were strangeweapons and beautiful clothes—the Sun's. Scarface was ashamed to go in,but Morning Star said, "Do not be afraid, my friend; we are glad you havecome."

They entered. One person was sitting there, Ko-ko-mik'-e-is[2], the Sun'swife, Morning Star's mother. She spoke to Scarface kindly, and gave himsomething to eat. "Why have you come so far from your people?" she asked.

[Footnote 2: Night red light, the Moon.]

Then Scarface told her about the beautiful girl he wanted to marry. "Shebelongs to the Sun," he said. "I have come to ask him for her."

When it was time for the Sun to come home, the Moon hid Scarface under apile of robes. As soon as the Sun got to the doorway, he stopped, and said,"I smell a person."

"Yes, father," said Morning Star; "a good young man has come to see you. Iknow he is good, for he found some of my things on the trail and did nottouch them."

Then Scarface came out from under the robes, and the Sun entered and satdown. "I am glad you have come to our lodge," he said. "Stay with us aslong as you think best. My son is lonesome sometimes; be his friend."

The next day the Moon called Scarface out of the lodge, and said to him:"Go with Morning Star where you please, but never hunt near that big water;do not let him go there. It is the home of great birds which have longsharp bills; they kill people. I have had many sons, but these birds havekilled them all. Morning Star is the only one left."

So Scarface stayed there a long time and hunted with Morning Star. One daythey came near the water, and saw the big birds.

"Come," said Morning Star; "let us go and kill those birds."

"No, no!" replied Scarface; "we must not go there. Those are very terriblebirds; they will kill us."

Morning Star would not listen. He ran towards the water, and Scarfacefollowed. He knew that he must kill the birds and save the boy. If not, theSun would be angry and might kill him. He ran ahead and met the birds,which were coming towards him to fight, and killed every one of them withhis spear: not one was left. Then the young men cut off their heads, andcarried them home. Morning Star's mother was glad when they told her whatthey had done, and showed her the birds' heads. She cried, and calledScarface "my son." When the Sun came home at night, she told him about it,and he too was glad. "My son," he said to Scarface, "I will not forget whatyou have this day done for me. Tell me now, what can I do for you?"

"Hai'-yu" replied Scarface. "Hai'-yu, pity me. I am here to ask you forthat girl. I want to marry her. I asked her, and she was glad; but she saysyou own her, that you told her not to marry."

"What you say is true," said the Sun. "I have watched the days, so I knowit. Now, then, I give her to you; she is yours. I am glad she has beenwise. I know she has never done wrong. The Sun pities good women. Theyshall live a long time. So shall their husbands and children. Now you willsoon go home. Let me tell you something. Be wise and listen: I am the onlychief. Everything is mine. I made the earth, the mountains, prairies,rivers, and forests. I made the people and all the animals. This is why Isay I alone am the chief. I can never die. True, the winter makes me oldand weak, but every summer I grow young again."

Then said the Sun: "What one of all animals is smartest? The raven is, forhe always finds food. He is never hungry. Which one of all the animals ismost Nat-o'-ye[1]? The buffalo is. Of all animals, I like him best. Heis for the people. He is your food and your shelter. What part of his bodyis sacred? The tongue is. That is mine. What else is sacred? Berriesare. They are mine too. Come with me and see the world." He took Scarfaceto the edge of the sky, and they looked down and saw it. It is round andflat, and all around the edge is the jumping-off place [or walls straightdown]. Then said the Sun: "When any man is sick or in danger, his wife maypromise to build me a lodge, if he recovers. If the woman is pure and true,then I will be pleased and help the man. But if she is bad, if she lies,then I will be angry. You shall build the lodge like the world, round, withwalls, but first you must build a sweat house of a hundred sticks. It shallbe like the sky [a hemisphere], and half of it shall be painted red. Thatis me. The other half you will paint black. That is the night."

[Footnote 1: This word may be translated as "of the Sun," "having Sunpower," or more properly, something sacred.]

Further said the Sun: "Which is the best, the heart or the brain? The brainis. The heart often lies, the brain never." Then he told Scarfaceeverything about making the Medicine Lodge, and when he had finished, herubbed a powerful medicine on his face, and the scar disappeared. Then hegave him two raven feathers, saying: "These are the sign for the girl, thatI give her to you. They must always be worn by the husband of the woman whobuilds a Medicine Lodge."

The young man was now ready to return home. Morning Star and the Sun gavehim many beautiful presents. The Moon cried and kissed him, and called him"my son." Then the Sun showed him the short trail. It was the Wolf Road(Milky Way). He followed it, and soon reached the ground.

IV

It was a very hot day. All the lodge skins were raised, and the people satin the shade. There was a chief, a very generous man, and all day longpeople kept coming to his lodge to feast and smoke with him. Early in themorning this chief saw a person sitting out on a butte near by, closewrapped in his robe. The chief's friends came and went, the sun reached themiddle, and passed on, down towards the mountains. Still this person didnot move. When it was almost night, the chief said: "Why does that personsit there so long? The heat has been strong, but he has never eaten nordrunk. He may be a stranger; go and ask him in."

So some young men went up to him, and said: "Why do you sit here in thegreat heat all day? Come to the shade of the lodges. The chief asks you tofeast with him."

Then the person arose and threw off his robe, and they were surprised. Hewore beautiful clothes. His bow, shield, and other weapons were of strangemake. But they knew his face, although the scar was gone, and they ranahead, shouting, "The scarface poor young man has come. He is poor nolonger. The scar on his face is gone."

All the people rushed out to see him. "Where have you been?" theyasked. "Where did you get all these pretty things?" He did notanswer. There in the crowd stood that young woman; and taking the two ravenfeathers from his head, he gave them to her, and said: "The trail was verylong, and I nearly died, but by those Helpers, I found his lodge. He isglad. He sends these feathers to you. They are the sign."

Great was her gladness then. They were married, and made the first MedicineLodge, as the Sun had said. The Sun was glad. He gave them great age. Theywere never sick. When they were very old, one morning, their children said:"Awake! Rise and eat." They did not move. In the night, in sleep, withoutpain, their shadows had departed for the Sand Hills.

ORIGIN OF THE I-KUN-UH'-KAH-TSI[1]

I

THE BULL BAND

[Footnote 1: An account of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi, with a list of itsdifferent bands or societies and their duties, will be found in the chapteron Social Organization.]

The people had built a great pis'kun, very high and strong, so that nobuffalo could escape; but somehow the buffalo would not jump over thecliff. When driven toward it, they would run nearly to the edge, and then,swerving to the right or left, they would go down the sloping hills andcross the valley in safety. So the people were hungry, and began to starve.

One morning, early, a young woman went to get water, and she saw a herd ofbuffalo feeding on the prairie, right on the edge of the cliff above thepis'kun. "Oh!" she cried out, "if you will only jump off into the pis'kun,I will marry one of you." This she said for fun, not meaning it, and greatwas her wonder when she saw the buffalo come jumping, tumbling, fallingover the cliff.

Now the young woman was scared, for a big bull with one bound cleared thepis'kun walls and came toward her. "Come," he said, taking hold of herarm. "No, no!" she replied pulling back. "But you said if the buffalo wouldjump over, you would marry one; see, the pis'kun is filled." And withoutmore talk he led her up over the bluff, and out on to the prairie.

When the people had finished killing the buffalo and cutting up the meat,they missed this young woman, and her relations were very sad, because theycould not find her. Then her father took his bow and quiver, and said, "Iwill go and find her." And he went up over the bluff and out on theprairie.

After he had travelled some distance he came to a wallow, and a little wayoff saw a herd of buffalo. While sitting by the wallow,—for he wastired—and thinking what he should do, a magpie came and lit near him. "Ha!Ma-me-at-si-kim-i" he said, "you are a beautiful bird; help me. Lookeverywhere as you travel about, and if you see my daughter, tell her, 'Yourfather waits by the wallow.'" The magpie flew over by the herd of buffalo,and seeing the young woman, he lit on the ground near her, and commencedpicking around, turning his head this way and that way, and, when close toher, he said, "Your father waits by the wallow." "Sh-h-h! sh-h-h!" repliedthe girl, in a whisper, looking around scared, for her bull husband wassleeping near by. "Don't speak so loud. Go back and tell him to wait."

"Your daughter is over there with the buffalo. She says 'wait!'" said themagpie, when he had flown back to the man.

By and by the bull awoke, and said to his wife, "Go and get me some water."Then the woman was glad, and taking a horn from his head she went to thewallow. "Oh, why did you come?" she said to her father. "You will surely bekilled."

"I came to take my daughter home; come, let us hurry."

"No, no!" she replied; "not now. They would chase us and kill us. Wait tillhe sleeps again, and I will try to get away," and, filling the horn withwater, she went back.

The bull drank a swallow of the water. "Ha!" said he, "a person is close byhere."

"No one," replied the woman; but her heart rose up.

The bull drank a little more, and then he stood up and bellowed, "Bu-u-u!m-m-ah-oo!" Oh, fearful sound! Up rose the bulls, raised their short tailsand shook them, tossed their great heads, and bellowed back. Then theypawed the dirt, rushed about here and there, and coming to the wallow,found that poor man. There they trampled him with their great hoofs, hookedhim and trampled him again, and soon not even a small piece of his bodycould be seen.

Then his daughter cried, "Oh! ah! Ni-nah-ah! Oh! ah! Ni-nah-ah!" (Myfather! My father!) "Ah!" said her bull husband, "you mourn for yourfather. You see now how it is with us. We have seen our mothers, fathers,many of our relations, hurled over the rocky walls, and killed for food byyour people. But I will pity you. I will give you one chance. If you canbring your father to life, you and he can go back to your people."

Then the woman said to the magpie: "Pity me. Help me now; go and seek inthe trampled mud; try and find a little piece of my father's body, andbring it to me."

The magpie flew to the place. He looked in every hole, and tore up the mudwith his sharp nose. At last he found something white; he picked the mudfrom around it, and then pulling hard, he brought out a joint of thebackbone, and flew with it back to the woman.

She placed it on the ground, covered it with her robe, and thensang. Removing the robe, there lay her father's body as if just dead. Oncemore she covered it with the robe and sang, and when she took away therobe, he was breathing, and then he stood up. The buffalo were surprised;the magpie was glad, and flew round and round, making a great noise.

"We have seen strange things this day," said her bull husband. "He whom wetrampled to death, even into small pieces, is alive again. The people'smedicine is very strong. Now, before you go, we will teach you our danceand our song. You must not forget them."[1] When the dance was over, thebull said: "Go now to your home, and do not forget what you haveseen. Teach it to the people. The medicine shall be a bull's head and arobe. All the persons who are to be 'Bulls' shall wear them when theydance."

[Footnote 1: Here the narrator repeated the song and showed the dance. Asis fitting to the dance of such great beasts, the air is slow and solemn,and the step ponderous and deliberate.]

Great was the joy of the people, when the man returned with hisdaughter. He called a council of the chiefs, and told them all that hadhappened. Then the chiefs chose certain young men, and this man taught themthe dance and song of the bulls, and told them what the medicine shouldbe. This was the beginning of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi.

II

THE OTHER BANDS

For a long time the buffalo had not been seen. The pis'kun was useless, andthe hunters could find no food for the people. Then a man who had twowives, a daughter, and two sons, said: "I shall not stop here todie. To-morrow we will move toward the mountains, where we shall perhapsfind deer and elk, sheep and antelope, or, if not, at least we shall findplenty of beaver and birds. Thus we shall survive."

When morning came, they packed the travois, lashed them on the dogs, andthen moved out. It was yet winter, and they travelled slowly. They wereweak, and could go but a little way in a day. The fourth night came, andthey sat in their lodge, very tired and hungry. No one spoke, for those whoare hungry do not care for words. Suddenly the dogs began to bark, andsoon, pushing aside the door-curtain, a young man entered.

"O'kyi!" said the old man, and he motioned the stranger to asitting-place.

They looked at this person with surprise and fear, for there was a blackwind[1] which had melted the snow, and covered the prairie with water, yetthis person's leggings and moccasins were dry. They sat in silence a longtime.

[Footnote 1: The "Chinook."]

Then said he: "Why is this? Why do you not give me some food?"

"Ah!" replied the old man, "you behold those who are truly poor. We have nofood. For many days the buffalo did not come in sight, and we shot deer andother animals which people eat, and when all these had been killed, webegan to starve. Then said I, 'We will not stay here to starve to death';and we started for the mountains. This is the fourth night of our travels."

"Ah!" said the young man. "Then your travels are ended. Close by here, weare camped by our pis'kun. Many buffalo have been run in, and ourparfleches are filled with dried meat. Wait; I will go and bring you some."

As soon as he went out, they began to talk about this strange person. Theywere very much afraid of him, and did not know what to do. The childrenbegan to cry, and the women were trying to quiet them, when the young manreturned, bringing some meat and three pis-tsi-ko'-an.[2]

[Footnote 2: Unborn buffalo calves.]

"Kyi!" said he. "To-morrow move over to our lodges. Do not be afraid. Nomatter what strange things you see, do not fear. All will be yourfriends. Now, one thing I caution you about. In this be careful. If youshould find an arrow lying about, in the pis'kun, or outside, no matterwhere, do not touch it; neither you, nor your wives nor children." Havingsaid this, he went out.

Then the old man took his pipe and smoked and prayed, saying: "Hear now,Sun! Listen, Above People. Listen, Under Water People. Now you have takenpity. Now you have given us food. We are going to those strange ones, whowalk through water with dry moccasins. Protect us among those to-be-fearedpeople. Let us survive. Man, woman, child, give us long life; give us longlife!"

Once more the smell of roasting meat. The children played. They talked andlaughed who had so long been silent. They ate plenty and lay down andslept.

Early in the morning, as soon as the sun rose, they took down their lodge,packed up, and started for the strange camp. They found it was a wonderfulplace. There by the pis'kun, and far up and down the valley were the lodgesof meat-eaters. They could not see them all, but close by they saw thelodges of the Bear band, the Fox band, and the Badger band. The father ofthe young man who had given them meat was chief of the Wolf band, and bythat band they pitched their lodge. Ah! That was a happy place. Food therewas plenty. All day people shouted out for feasts, and everywhere was heardthe sound of drums and song and dancing.

The new-comers went to the pis'kun for meat, and one of the children foundan arrow lying on the ground. It was a beautiful arrow, the stone pointlong and sharp, the shaft round and straight. All around the people werebusy; no one was looking. The boy picked up the arrow and hid it under hisrobe. Then there was a fearful noise. All the animals howled and growled,and ran toward him. But the chief Wolf said: "Hold! We will let him go thistime; for he is young yet, and not of good sense." So they let him go.

When night came, some one shouted out for a feast, saying:"Wo'-ka-hit! Wo'-ka-hit! Mah-kwe'-i-ke-tum-ok-ah-wah-hit.Ke-t[)u]k'-ka-p[)u]k'-si-pim." ("Listen! Listen! Wolf, you are tofeast. Enter with your friend.") "We are asked," said the chief Wolf to hisnew friend, and together they went to the lodge.

Within, the fire burned brightly, and many men were already there, the oldand wise of the Raven band. Hanging behind the seats were the writings[1]of many deeds. Food was placed before them,—pemmican of berries and driedback fat; and when they had eaten, a pipe was lighted. Then spoke theRaven chief: "Now, Wolf, I am going to give our new friend a present. Whatsay you?"

[Footnote 1: That is, the painting on cowskin of the various battles andadventures in which the owner of the lodge had taken part.]

"It is as you say," replied the Wolf. "Our new friend will be glad."

Then the Raven chief took from the long parfleche sack a slender stick,beautifully dressed with many colored feathers; and on the end of it wasfastened the skin of a raven, head, wings, feet, and all. "We," he said,"are the Mas-to-pah'-ta-kiks (Raven carriers, or those who bear theRaven). Of all the above animals, of all the flyers, where is one so smart?None. The Raven's eyes are sharp. His wings are strong. He is a greathunter and never hungry. Far, far off on the prairie he sees his food, anddeep hidden in the pines it does not escape his eye. Now the song and thedance."

When he had finished singing and dancing, he gave the stick to the man, andsaid: "Take it with you, and when you have returned to your people, youshall say: Now there are already the Bulls, and he who is the Raven chiefsays: 'There shall be more, there shall be the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi, so thatthe people may survive, and of them shall be the Raven carriers.' You willcall a council of the chiefs and wise old men, and they will choose thepersons. Teach them the song and the dance, and give them the medicine. Itshall be theirs forever."

Soon they heard another person shouting for a feast, and, going, theyentered the lodge of the Sin-o-pah chief. Here, too, were the old menassembled. After they had eaten of that set before them, the chief said:"Those among whom you are newly arrived are generous. They do not look attheir possessions, but give to the stranger and pity the poor. The Kit-foxis a little animal, but what one is smarter? None. His hair is like thedead prairie grass. His eyes are sharp, his feet noiseless, his braincunning. His ears receive the far-off sound. Here is our medicine, takeit." And he gave the stick. It was long, crooked at one end, wound withfur, and tied here and there to it were eagle feathers. At the end was afox's skin. Again the chief said: "Hear our song. Do not forget it; and thedance, too, you must remember. When you get home, teach them to thepeople."

Again they heard the feast shout, and he who called was the Bear chief. Nowwhen they had smoked, the chief said: "What say you, friend Wolf? Shall wegive our new friend something?"

"As you say," replied the Wolf. "It is yours to give."

Then said the Bear: "There are many animals, and some of them arepowerful. But the Bear is the strongest and bravest of all. He fearsnothing, and is always ready to fight." Then he put on a necklace of bearclaws, a belt of bear fur, and around his head a band of the fur; and sangand danced. When he had finished, he gave them to the man, saying: "Teachthe people our song and dance, and give them this medicine. It ispowerful."

It was now very late. The Seven Persons had arrived at midnight, yet againthey heard the feast shout from the far end of camp. In this lodge the menwere painted with streaks of red and their hair was all brushed to oneside. After the feast the chief said: "We are different from all theothers here. We are called the Mût-siks[1] We are death. We know notfear. Even if our enemies are in number like the grass, we do not turnaway, but fight and conquer. Bows are good weapons. Spears are better, butour weapon is the knife." Then the chief sang and danced, and afterwards hegave the Wolf's friend the medicine. It was a long knife, and many scalpswere tied on the handle. "This," he said, "is for the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi."

[Footnote 1: Brave, courageous.]

Once more they were called to a feast and entered the Badger chief'slodge. He taught the man the Badger song and dance and gave him themedicine. It was a large rattle, ornamented with beaver claws and brightfeathers. They smoked two pipes in the Badger's lodge, and then went homeand slept.

Early next day, the man and his family took down their lodge, and preparedto move camp. Many women came and made them presents of dried meat,pemmican, and berries. They were given so much they could not take it allwith them. It was many days before they joined the main camp, for thepeople, too, had moved to the south after buffalo. As soon as the lodge waspitched, the man called all the chiefs to come and feast, and he told themall he had seen, and showed them the medicines. The chiefs chose certainyoung men for the different bands, and this man taught them the songs anddances, and gave each band their medicine.

ORIGIN OF THE MEDICINE PIPE

Thunder—you have heard him, he is everywhere. He roars in the mountains,he shouts far out on the prairie. He strikes the high rocks, and they fallto pieces. He hits a tree, and it is broken in slivers. He strikes thepeople, and they die. He is bad. He does not like the towering cliff, thestanding tree, or living man. He likes to strike and crush them to theground. Yes! yes! Of all he is most powerful; he is the one moststrong. But I have not told you the worst: he sometimes steals women.

Long ago, almost in the beginning, a man and his wife were sitting in theirlodge, when Thunder came and struck them. The man was not killed. At firsthe was as if dead, but after a while he lived again, and rising lookedabout him. His wife was not there. "Oh, well," he thought, "she has gone toget some water or wood," and he sat a while; but when the sun hadunder-disappeared, he went out and inquired about her of the people. No onehad seen her. He searched throughout the camp, but did not find her. Thenhe knew that Thunder had stolen her, and he went out on the hills alone andmourned.

When morning came, he rose and wandered far away, and he asked all theanimals he met if they knew where Thunder lived. They laughed, and wouldnot answer. The Wolf said: "Do you think we would seek the home of the onlyone we fear? He is our only danger. From all others we can run away; butfrom him there is no running. He strikes, and there we lie. Turn back! gohome! Do not look for the dwelling-place of that dreadful one." But the mankept on, and travelled far away. Now he came to a lodge,—a queer lodge,for it was made of stone; just like any other lodge, only it was made ofstone. Here lived the Raven chief. The man entered.

"Welcome, my friend," said the chief of Ravens. "Sit down, sit down." Andfood was placed before him.

Then, when he had finished eating, the Raven said, "Why have you come?"

"Thunder has stolen my wife," replied the man. "I seek his dwelling-placethat I may find her."

"Would you dare enter the lodge of that dreadful person?" asked theRaven. "He lives close by here. His lodge is of stone, like this; andhanging there, within, are eyes,—the eyes of those he has killed orstolen. He has taken out their eyes and hung them in his lodge. Now, then,dare you enter there?"

"No," replied the man. "I am afraid. What man could look at such dreadfulthings and live?"

"No person can," said the Raven. "There is but one old Thunder fears. Thereis but one he cannot kill. It is I, it is the Ravens. Now I will give youmedicine, and he shall not harm you. You shall enter there, and seek amongthose eyes your wife's; and if you find them, tell that Thunder why youcame, and make him give them to you. Here, now, is a raven's wing. Justpoint it at him, and he will start back quick; but if that fail, takethis. It is an arrow, and the shaft is made of elk-horn. Take this, I say,and shoot it through the lodge."

"Why make a fool of me?" the poor man asked. "My heart is sad. I amcrying." And he covered his head with his robe, and wept.

"Oh," said the Raven, "you do not believe me. Come out, come out, and Iwill make you believe." When they stood outside, the Raven asked, "Is thehome of your people far?"

"A great distance," said the man.

"Can you tell how many days you have travelled?"

"No," he replied, "my heart is sad. I did not count the days. The berrieshave grown and ripened since I left."

"Can you see your camp from here?" asked the Raven.

The man did not speak. Then the Raven rubbed some medicine on his eyes andsaid, "Look!" The man looked, and saw the camp. It was close. He saw thepeople. He saw the smoke rising from the lodges.

"Now you will believe," said the Raven. "Take now the arrow and the wing,and go and get your wife."

So the man took these things, and went to the Thunder's lodge. He enteredand sat down by the door-way. The Thunder sat within and looked at him withawful eyes. But the man looked above, and saw those many pairs of eyes.Among them were those of his wife.

"Why have you come?" said the Thunder in a fearful voice.

"I seek my wife," the man replied, "whom you have stolen. There hang hereyes."

"No man can enter my lodge and live," said the Thunder; and he rose tostrike him. Then the man pointed the raven wing at the Thunder, and he fellback on his couch and shivered. But he soon recovered, and rose again. Thenthe man fitted the elk-horn arrow to his bow, and shot it through the lodgeof rock; right through that lodge of rock it pierced a jagged hole, and letthe sunlight in.

"Hold," said the Thunder. "Stop; you are the stronger. Yours the greatmedicine. You shall have your wife. Take down her eyes." Then the man cutthe string that held them, and immediately his wife stood beside him.

"Now," said the Thunder, "you know me. I am of great power. I live here insummer, but when winter comes, I go far south. I go south with thebirds. Here is my pipe. It is medicine. Take it, and keep it. Now, when Ifirst come in the spring, you shall fill and light this pipe, and you shallpray to me, you and the people. For I bring the rain which makes theberries large and ripe. I bring the rain which makes all things grow, andfor this you shall pray to me, you and all the people."

Thus the people got the first medicine pipe. It was long ago.

THE BEAVER MEDICINE

This story goes back many years, to a time before the Indians went to waragainst each other. Then there was peace among all the tribes. They met,and did not kill each other. They had no guns and they had no horses. Whentwo tribes met, the head chiefs would take each a stick and touch eachother. Each had counted a coup on the other, and they then went back totheir camps. It was more a friendly than a hostile ceremony.

Oftentimes, when a party of young men had gone to a strange camp, and haddone this to those whom they had visited, they would come back to theirhomes and would tell the girls whom they loved that they had counted acoup on this certain tribe of people. After the return of such a party,the young women would have a dance. Each one would wear clothing like thatof the man she loved, and as she danced, she would count a coup, sayingthat she herself had done the deed which her young lover had really done.Such was the custom of the people.

There was a chief in a camp who had three wives, all very pretty women. Heused to say to these women, whenever a dance was called: "Why do not you goout and dance too? Perhaps you have some one in the camp that you love, andfor whom you would like to count a coup" Then the women would say, "No,we do not wish to join the dance; we have no lovers."

There was in the camp a poor young man, whose name was Ápi-kunni. He had norelations, and no one to tan robes or furs for him, and he was always badlyclad and in rags. Whenever he got some clothing, he wore it as long as itwould hold together. This young man loved the youngest wife of the chief,and she loved him. But her parents were not rich, and they could not giveher to Ápi-k[)u]nni, and when the chief wanted her for a wife, they gaveher to him. Sometimes Ápi-k[)u]nni and this girl used to meet and talktogether, and he used to caution her, saying, "Now be careful that you donot tell any one that you see me." She would say, "No, there is no danger;I will not let it be known."

One evening, a dance was called for the young women to dance, and the chiefsaid to his wives: "Now, women, you had better go to this dance. If any ofyou have persons whom you love, you might as well go and dance for them."Two of them said: "No, we will not go. There is no one that we love." Butthe third said, "Well, I think I will go and dance." The chief said to her,"Well, go then; your lover will surely dress you up for the dance."

The girl went to where Ápi-k[)u]nni as living in an old woman's lodge, verypoorly furnished, and told him what she was going to do, and asked him todress her for the dance. He said to her: "Oh, you have wronged me by cominghere, and by going to the dance. I told you to keep it a secret." The girlsaid: "Well, never mind; no one will know your dress. Fix me up, and I willgo and join the dance anyway." "Why," said Api-k[)u]nni, "I never have beento war. I have never counted any coups. You will go and dance and willhave nothing to say. The people will laugh at you." But when he found thatthe girl wanted to go, he painted her forehead with red clay, and tied agoose skin, which he had, about her head, and lent her his badly tannedrobe, which in spots was hard like a parfleche. He said to her, "If youwill go to the dance, say, when it comes your turn to speak, that when thewater in the creeks gets warm, you are going to war, and are going to counta coup on some people."

The woman went to the dance, and joined in it. All the people were laughingat her on account of her strange dress,—a goose skin around her head, anda badly tanned robe about her. The people in the dance asked her: "Well,what are you dancing for? What can you tell?" The woman said, "I am dancinghere to-day, and when the water in the streams gets warm next spring, I amgoing to war; and then I will tell you what I have done to any people." Thechief was standing present, and when he learned who it was that his youngwife loved, he was much ashamed and went to his lodge.

When the dance was over, this young woman went to the lodge of the pooryoung man to give back his dress to him. Now, while she had been gone,Ápi-k[)u]nni had been thinking over all these things, and he was very muchashamed. He took his robe and his goose skin and went away. He was soashamed that he went away at once, travelling off over the prairie, notcaring where he went, and crying all the time. As he wandered away, he cameto a lake, and at the foot of this lake was a beaver dam, and by the dam abeaver house. He walked out on the dam and on to the beaver house. There hestopped and sat down, and in his shame cried the rest of the day, and atlast he fell asleep on the beaver house.

While he slept, he dreamed that a beaver came to him—a very largebeaver—and said: "My poor young man, come into my house. I pity you, andwill give you something that will help you." So Ápi-k[)u]nni got up, andfollowed the beaver into the house. When he was in the house, he awoke, andsaw sitting opposite him a large white beaver, almost as big as a man. Hethought to himself, "This must be the chief of all the beavers, whitebecause very old." The beaver was singing a song. It was a very strangesong, and he sang it a long time. Then he said to Ápi-k[)u]nni, "My son,why are you mourning?" and the young man told him everything that hadhappened, and how he had been shamed. Then the beaver said: "My son, stayhere this winter with me. I will provide for you. When the time comes, andyou have learned our songs and our ways, I will let you go. For a time makethis your home." So Ápi-k)u]nni stayed there with the beaver, and thebeaver taught him many strange things. All this happened in the fall.

Now the chief in the camp missed this poor young man, and he asked thepeople where he had gone. No one knew. They said that the last that hadbeen seen of him he was travelling toward the lake where the beaver damwas.

Ápi-k[)u]nni had a friend, another poor young man named Wolf Tail, andafter a while, Wolf Tail started out to look for his friend. He went towardthis lake, looking everywhere, and calling out his name. When he came tothe beaver house, he kicked on the top and called, "Oh, my brother, are youhere?" Ápi-k[)u]nni answered him, and said: "Yes, I am here. I was broughtin while I was asleep, and I cannot give you the secret of the door, for Ido not know it myself." Wolf Tail said to him, "Brother, when the weathergets warm a party is going to start from camp to war." Ápi-k[)u]nni said:"Go home and try to get together all the moccasins you can, but do not tellthem that I am here. I am ashamed to go back to the camp. When the partystarts, come this way and bring me the moccasins, and we two will startfrom here." He also said: "I am very thin. The beaver food here does notagree with me. We are living on the bark of willows." Wolf Tail went backto the camp and gathered together all the moccasins that he could, as hehad been asked to do.

When the spring came, and the grass began to start, the war party setout. At this time the beaver talked to Ápikunni a long time, and told himmany things. He dived down into the water, and brought up a long stick ofaspen wood, cut off from it a piece as long as a man's arm, trimmed thetwigs off it, and gave it to the young man. "Keep this," the beaver said,"and when you go to war take it with you." The beaver also gave him alittle sack of medicine, and told him what he must do.

When the party started out, Wolf Tail came to the beaver house, bringingthe moccasins, and his friend came out of the house. They started in thedirection the party had taken and travelled with them, but off to oneside. When they stopped at night, the two young men camped by themselves.

They travelled for many days, until they came to Bow River, and found thatit was very high. On the other side of the river, they saw the lodges of acamp. In this camp a man was making a speech, and Api-k[)u]nni said to hisfriend, "Oh, my brother, I am going to kill that man to-day, so that mysweetheart may count coup on him." These two were at a little distancefrom the main party, above them on the river. The people in the camp hadseen the Blackfeet, and some had come down to the river. When Api-kunni hadsaid this to Wolf Tail, he took his clothes off and began to sing the songthe beaver had taught him. This was the song:—

I am like an island,
For on an island I got my power.
In battle I live
While people fall away from me.

While he sang this, he had in his hand the stick which the beaver had givenhim. This was his only weapon.

He ran to the bank, jumped in and dived, and came up in the middle of theriver, and started to swim across. The rest of the Blackfeet saw one oftheir number swimming across the river, and they said to each other: "Whois that? Why did not some one stop him?" While he was swimming across, theman who had been making the speech saw him and went down to meet him. Hesaid: "Who can this man be, swimming across the river? He is a stranger. Iwill go down and meet him, and kill him." As the boy was getting close tothe shore, the man waded out in the stream up to his waist, and raised hisknife to stab the swimmer. When Ápi-k[)u]nni got near him, he dived underthe water and came up close to the man, and thrust the beaver stick throughhis body, and the man fell down in the water and died. Ápi-k[)u]nni caughtthe body, and dived under the water with it, and came up on the other sidewhere he had left his friend. Then all the Blackfeet set up the war whoop,for they were glad, and they could hear a great crying in the camp. Thepeople there were sorry for the man who was killed.

People in those days never killed one another, and this was the first manever killed in war.

They dragged the man up on the bank, and Ápi-k[)u]nni said to his brother,"Cut off those long hairs on the head." The young man did as he wastold. He scalped him and counted coup on him; and from that time forth,people, when they went to war, killed one another and scalped the deadenemy, as this poor young man had done. Two others of the main party cameto the place, and counted coup on the dead body, making four who hadcounted coup. From there, the whole party turned about and went back tothe village whence they had come.

When they came in sight of the lodges, they sat down in a row facing thecamp. The man who had killed the enemy was sitting far in front of theothers. Behind him sat his friend, and behind Wolf Tail, sat the two whohad counted coup on the body. So these four were strung out in front ofthe others. The chief of the camp was told that some people were sitting ona hill near by, and when he had gone out and looked, he said: "There issome one sitting way in front. Let somebody go out and see about it." Ayoung man ran out to where he could see, and when he had looked, he ranback and said to the chief, "Why, that man in front is the poor young man."

The old chief looked around, and said: "Where is that young woman, my wife?Go and find her." They went to look for her, and found her out gatheringrosebuds, for while the young man whom she loved was away, she used to goout and gather rosebuds and dry them for him. When they found her, she hadher bosom full of them. When she came to the lodge, the chief said to her:"There is the man you love, who has come. Go and meet him." She made readyquickly and ran out and met him. He said: "Give her that hair of the deadman. Here is his knife. There is the coat he had on, when I killedhim. Take these things back to the camp, and tell the people who made funof you that this is what you promised them at the time of that dance."

The whole party then got up and walked to the camp. The woman took thescalp, knife and coat to the lodge, and gave them to her husband. The chiefinvited Ápi-kûnni to come to his lodge to visit him. He said: "I see thatyou have been to war, and that you have done more than any of us have everdone. This is a reason why you should be a chief. Now take my lodge andthis woman, and live here. Take my place and rule these people. My twowives will be your servants." When Ápi-kûnni heard this, and saw the youngwoman sitting there in the lodge, he could not speak. Something seemed torise up in his throat and choke him.

So this young man lived in the camp and was known as their chief.

After a time, he called his people together in council and told them of thestrange things the beaver had taught him, and the power that the beaver hadgiven him. He said: "This will be a benefit to us while we are a peoplenow, and afterward it will be handed down to our children, and if we followthe words of the beaver we will be lucky. This seed the beaver gave me, andtold me to plant it every year. When we ask help from the beaver, we willsmoke this plant."

This plant was the Indian tobacco, and it is from the beaver that theBlackfeet got it. Many strange things were taught this man by the beaver,which were handed down and are followed till to-day.

THE BUFFALO ROCK

A small stone, which is usually a fossil shell of some kind, is known bythe Blackfeet as I-nis'-kim, the buffalo stone. This object is strongmedicine, and, as indicated in some of these stories, gives its possessorgreat power with buffalo. The stone is found on the prairie, and theperson who succeeds in obtaining one is regarded as very fortunate.Sometimes a man, who is riding along on the prairie, will hear a peculiarfaint chirp, such as a little bird might utter. The sound he knows is madeby a buffalo rock. He stops and searches on the ground for the rock, and ifhe cannot find it, marks the place and very likely returns next day, eitheralone or with others from the camp, to look for it again. If it is found,there is great rejoicing. How the first buffalo rock was obtained, and itspower made known, is told in the following story.

Long ago, in the winter time, the buffalo suddenly disappeared. The snowwas so deep that the people could not move in search of them, for in thosedays they had no horses. So the hunters killed deer, elk, and other smallgame along the river bottoms, and when these were all killed off or drivenaway, the people began to starve.

One day, a young married man killed a jack-rabbit. He was so hungry that heran home as fast as he could, and told one of his wives to hurry and getsome water to cook it. While the young woman was going along the path tothe river, she heard a beautiful song. It sounded close by, but she lookedall around and could see no one. The song seemed to come from a cotton-woodtree near the path. Looking closely at this tree she saw a queer rockjammed in a fork, where the tree was split, and with it a few hairs from abuffalo, which had rubbed there. The woman was frightened and dared notpass the tree. Pretty soon the singing stopped, and the I-nis'-kim [buffalorock] spoke to the woman and said: "Take me to your lodge, and when it isdark, call in the people and teach them the song you have just heard. Pray,too, that you may not starve, and that the buffalo may come back. Do this,and when day comes, your hearts will be glad."

The woman went on and got some water, and when she came back, took the rockand gave it to her husband, telling him about the song and what the rockhad said. As soon as it was dark, the man called the chiefs and old men tohis lodge, and his wife taught them this song. They prayed, too, as therock had said should be done. Before long, they heard a noise far off. Itwas the tramp of a great herd of buffalo coming. Then they knew that therock was very powerful, and, ever since that, the people have taken care ofit and prayed to it.

[NOTE.—I-nis'-kims are usually small Ammonites, or sections ofBaculites, or sometimes merely oddly shaped nodules of flint. It is saidof them that if an I-nis'-kim is wrapped up and left undisturbed for a longtime, it will have young ones; two small stones similar in shape to theoriginal one will be found in the package with it.]

ORIGIN OF THE WORM PIPE

There was once a man who was very fond of his wife. After they had beenmarried for some time they had a child, a boy. After that, the woman gotsick, and did not get well. The young man did not wish to take a secondwoman. He loved his wife so much. The woman grew worse andworse. Doctoring did not seem to do her any good. At last she died. The manused to take his baby on his back and travel out, walking over the hillscrying. He kept away from the camp. After some time, he said to the littlechild: "My little boy, you will have to go and live with yourgrandmother. I am going to try and find your mother, and bring her back."He took the baby to his mother's lodge, and asked her to take care of it,and left it with her. Then he started off, not knowing where he was goingnor what he was going to do.

He travelled toward the Sand Hills. The fourth night out he had a dream. Hedreamed that he went into a little lodge, in which lived an old woman. Thisold woman said to him, "Why are you here, my son?" He said: "I am mourningday and night, crying all the while. My little son, who is the only oneleft me, also mourns." "Well," said the old woman, "for whom are youmourning?" He said: "I am mourning for my wife. She died some time ago. Iam looking for her." "Oh!" said the old woman, "I saw her. She passed thisway. I myself am not powerful medicine, but over by that far butte livesanother old woman. Go to her, and she will give you power to enable you tocontinue your journey. You could not go there by yourself withouthelp. Beyond the next butte from her lodge, you will find the camp of theghosts."

The next morning he awoke and went on to the next butte. It took him a longday to get there, but he found no lodge there, so he lay down and went tosleep. Again he dreamed. In his dream, he saw a little lodge, and an oldwoman came to the door-way and called him. He went in, and she said to him:"My son, you are very poor. I know why you have come this way. You areseeking your wife, who is now in the ghost country. It is a very hard thingfor you to get there. You may not be able to get your wife back, but I havegreat power, and I will do all I can for you. If you do exactly as I tellyou, you may succeed." She then spoke to him with wise words, telling himwhat he should do. Also she gave him a bundle of medicine, which would helphim on his journey.

Then she said: "You stay here for a while, and I will go over there [to theghosts' camp], and try to bring some of your relations; and if I am able tobring them back, you may return with them, but on the way you must shutyour eyes. If you should open them and look about you, you would die. Thenyou would never come back. When you get to the camp, you will pass by a biglodge, and they will say to you, 'Where are you going, and who told you tocome here?' You will reply, 'My grandmother, who is standing out here withme, told me to come.' They will try to scare you. They will make fearfulnoises, and you will see strange and terrible things; but do not beafraid."

Then the old woman went away, and after a time came back with one of theman's relations. He went with this relation to the ghosts' camp. When theycame to the big lodge, some one called out and asked the man what he wasdoing, and he answered as the old woman had told him to do. As he passed onthrough the camp, the ghosts tried to scare him with all kinds of fearfulsights and sounds, but he kept up a brave heart.

He came to another lodge, and the man who owned it came out, and asked himwhere he was going. He said: "I am looking for my dead wife, I mourn forher so much that I cannot rest. My little boy, too, keeps crying for hismother. They have offered to give me other wives, but I do not want them. Iwant the one for whom I am searching."

The ghost said to him: "It is a fearful thing that you have come here. Itis very likely that you will never go away. There never was a person herebefore." The ghost asked him to come into the lodge, and he went.

Now this chief ghost said to him: "You will stay here four nights, and youwill see your wife; but you must be very careful or you will never goback. You will die right here."

Then the chief went outside and called out for a feast, inviting this man'sfather-in-law and other relations, who were in the camp, saying, "Yourson-in-law invites you to a feast," as if to say that their son-in-law wasdead, and had become a ghost, and had arrived at the ghost camp.

Now when these invited people, the relations and some of the principal menof the camp, had reached the lodge, they did not like to go in. They calledout, "There is a person here." It seems as if there was something about himthat they could not bear the smell of. The ghost chief burned sweet pine inthe fire, which took away this smell, and the people came in and satdown. Then the host said to them: "Now pity this son-in-law of yours. He isseeking his wife. Neither the great distance nor the fearful sights that hehas seen here have weakened his heart. You can see for yourselves he istender-hearted. He not only mourns for his wife, but mourns because hislittle boy is now alone with no mother; so pity him and give him back hiswife." The ghosts consulted among themselves, and one said to the person,"Yes, you will stay here four nights; then we will give you a medicinepipe, the Worm Pipe, and we will give you back your wife, and you mayreturn to your home."

Now, after the third night, the chief ghost called together all the people,and they came, the man's wife with them. One of them came beating a drum;and following him was another ghost, who carried the Worm Pipe, which theygave to him. Then said the chief ghost: "Now, be very careful. Tomorrowyou and your wife will start on your homeward journey. Your wife will carrythe medicine pipe, and some of your relations are going along with you forfour days. During this time, you must not open your eyes, or you willreturn here and be a ghost forever. You see that your wife is not now aperson; but in the middle of the fourth day you will be told to look, andwhen you have opened your eyes, you will see that your wife has become aperson, and that your ghost relations have disappeared."

His father-in-law spoke to him before he went away, and said: "When you getnear home, you must not go at once into the camp. Let some of yourrelations know that you have arrived, and ask them to build a sweat housefor you. Go into this sweat house and wash your body thoroughly, leavingno part of it, however small, uncleansed; for if you do you will be nothing[will die]. There is something about us ghosts difficult to remove. It isonly by a thorough sweat that you can remove it. Take care, now, that youdo as I tell you. Do not whip your wife, nor strike her with a knife, norhit her with fire; for if you do, she will vanish before your eyes andreturn to the Sand Hills."

Now they left the ghost country to go home, and on the fourth day, the wifesaid to her husband, "Open your eyes." He looked about him and saw thatthose who had been with them had vanished, but he found that theywere standing in front of the old woman's lodge by the butte. She came outand said: "Here, give me back those mysterious medicines of mine, whichenabled you to accomplish your purpose." He returned them to her, andbecame then fully a person once more.

Now, when they drew near to the camp, the woman went on ahead, and sat downon a butte. Then some curious persons came out to see who it might be. Asthey approached, the woman called out to them: "Do not come any nearer. Gotell my mother and my relations to put up a lodge for us, a little way fromcamp, and to build a sweat house near by it." When this had been done, theman and his wife went in and took a thorough sweat, and then they went intothe lodge, and burned sweet grass and purified their clothing and the WormPipe; and then their relations and friends came in to see them. The mantold them where he had been, and how he had managed to get back his wife,and that the pipe hanging over the door-way was a medicine pipe, the WormPipe, presented to him by his ghost father-in-law. That is how the peoplecame to possess the Worm Pipe. This pipe belongs to that band of thePiegans known as Esk'-sin-i-tup'piks, the Worm People.

Not long after this, in the night, this man told his wife to do something;and when she did not begin at once, he picked up a brand from the fire, notthat he intended to strike her with it, but he made as if he would hit her,when all at once she vanished, and was never seen again.

THE GHOSTS' BUFFALO

A long time ago there were four Blackfeet, who went to war against theCrees. They travelled a long way, and at last their horses gave out, andthey started back toward their homes. As they were going along they came tothe Sand Hills; and while they were passing through them, they saw in thesand a fresh travois trail, where people had been travelling.

One of the men said: "Let us follow this trail until we come up with someof our people. Then we will camp with them." They followed the trail for along way, and at length one of the Blackfeet, named E-k[=u]s'-kini,—a verypowerful person,—said to the others: "Why follow this longer? It is justnothing." The others said: "Not so. These are our people. We will go onand camp with them." They went on, and toward evening, one of them found astone maul and a dog travois. He said: "Look at these things. I know thismaul and this travois. They belonged to my mother, who died. They wereburied with her. This is strange." He took the things. When night overtookthe men, they camped.

Early in the morning, they heard, all about them, sounds as if a camp ofpeople were there. They heard a young man shouting a sort of war cry, asyoung men do; women chopping wood; a man calling for a feast, asking peopleto come to his lodge and smoke,—all the different sounds of the camp. Theylooked about, but could see nothing; and then they were frightened andcovered their heads with their robes. At last they took courage, and startedto look around and see what they could learn about this strange thing. Fora little while they saw nothing, but pretty soon one of them said: "Lookover there. See that pis'kun. Let us go over and look at it." As they weregoing toward it, one of them picked up a stone pointed arrow. He said:"Look at this. It belonged to my father. This is his place." They startedto go on toward the pis'kun, but suddenly they could see no pis'kun. It haddisappeared all at once.

A little while after this, one of them spoke up, and said: "Look overthere. There is my father running buffalo. There! he has killed. Let us goover to him." They all looked where this man pointed, and they could see aperson on a white horse, running buffalo. While they were looking, theperson killed the buffalo, and got off his horse to butcher it. Theystarted to go over toward him, and saw him at work butchering, and saw himturn the buffalo over on its back; but before they got to the place wherehe was, the person got on his horse and rode off, and when they got towhere he had been skinning the buffalo, they saw lying on the ground only adead mouse. There was no buffalo there. By the side of the mouse was abuffalo chip, and lying on it was an arrow painted red. The man said: "Thatis my father's arrow. That is the way he painted them." He took it up inhis hands; and when he held it in his hands, he saw that it was not anarrow but a blade of spear grass. Then he laid it down, and it was an arrowagain.

Another Blackfoot found a buffalo rock, I-nis'-kim.

Some time after this, the men got home to their camp. The man who hadtaken the maul and the dog travois, when he got home and smelled the smokefrom the fire, died, and so did his horse. It seems that the shadow of theperson who owned the things was angry at him and followed him home. Twoothers of these Blackfeet have since died, killed in war; butE-k[=u]s'-kini is alive yet. He took a stone and an iron arrow point thathad belonged to his father, and always carried them about with him. That iswhy he has lived so long. The man who took the stone arrow point foundnear the pis'kun, which had belonged to his father, took it home withhim. This was his medicine. After that he was badly wounded in two fights,but he was not killed; he got well.

The one who took the buffalo rock, I-nis'-kim, it afterward made strong tocall the buffalo into the pis'kun. He would take the rock and put it in hislodge close to the fire, where he could look at it, and would pray over itand make medicine. Sometimes he would ask for a hundred buffalo to jumpinto the pis'kun, and the next day a hundred would jump in. He waspowerful.

All animals of the Plains at one time heard and knew him, and all birds ofthe air heard and knew him. All things that he had made understood him,when he spoke to them,—the birds, the animals, and the people.

Old Man was travelling about, south of here, making the people. He camefrom the south, travelling north, making animals and birds as he passedalong. He made the mountains, prairies, timber, and brush first. So he wentalong, travelling northward, making things as he went, putting rivers hereand there, and falls on them, putting red paint here and there in theground,—fixing up the world as we see it to-day. He made the Milk River(the Teton) and crossed it, and, being tired, went up on a little hill andlay down to rest. As he lay on his back, stretched out on the ground, witharms extended, he marked himself out with stones,—the shape of his body,head, legs, arms, and everything. There you can see those rocksto-day. After he had rested, he went on northward, and stumbled over aknoll and fell down on his knees. Then he said, "You are a bad thing to bestumbling against"; so he raised up two large buttes there, and named themthe Knees, and they are called so to this day. He went on further north,and with some of the rocks he carried with him he built the Sweet GrassHills.

Old Man covered the plains with grass for the animals to feed on. He markedoff a piece of ground, and in it he made to grow all kinds of roots andberries,—camas, wild carrots, wild turnips, sweet-root, bitter-root,sarvis berries, bull berries, cherries, plums, and rosebuds. He put treesin the ground. He put all kinds of animals on the ground. When he made thebighorn with its big head and horns, he made it out on the prairie. It didnot seem to travel easily on the prairie; it was awkward and could not gofast. So he took it by one of its horns, and led it up into the mountains,and turned it loose; and it skipped about among the rocks, and went upfearful places with ease. So he said, "This is the place that suits you;this is what you are fitted for, the rocks and the mountains." While he wasin the mountains, he made the antelope out of dirt, and turned it loose, tosee how it would go. It ran so fast that it fell over some rocks and hurtit*elf. He saw that this would not do, and took the antelope down on theprairie, and turned it loose; and it ran away fast and gracefully, and hesaid, "This is what you are suited to."

One day Old Man determined that he would make a woman and a child; so heformed them both—the woman and the child, her son—of clay. After he hadmoulded the clay in human shape, he said to the clay, "You must be people,"and then he covered it up and left it, and went away. The next morning hewent to the place and took the covering off, and saw that the clay shapeshad changed a little. The second morning there was still more change, andthe third still more. The fourth morning he went to the place, took thecovering off, looked at the images, and told them to rise and walk; andthey did so. They walked down to the river with their Maker, and then hetold them that his name was Na'pi, Old Man.

As they were standing by the river, the woman said to him, "How is it? willwe always live, will there be no end to it?" He said: "I have never thoughtof that. We will have to decide it. I will take this buffalo chip and throwit in the river. If it floats, when people die, in four days they willbecome alive again; they will die for only four days. But if it sinks,there will be an end to them." He threw the chip into the river, and itfloated. The woman turned and picked up a stone, and said: "No, I willthrow this stone in the river; if it floats we will always live, if itsinks people must die, that they may always be sorry for each other."[1]The woman threw the stone into the water, and it sank. "There," said OldMan, "you have chosen. There will be an end to them."

[Footnote 1: That is, that their friends who survive may always rememberthem.]

It was not many nights after, that the woman's child died, and she cried agreat deal for it. She said to Old Man: "Let us change this. The law thatyou first made, let that be a law." He said: "Not so. What is made law mustbe law. We will undo nothing that we have done. The child is dead, but itcannot be changed. People will have to die."

That is how we came to be people. It is he who made us.

The first people were poor and naked, and did not know how to get aliving. Old Man showed them the roots and berries, and told them that theycould eat them; that in a certain month of the year they could peel thebark off some trees and eat it, that it was good. He told the people thatthe animals should be their food, and gave them to the people, saying,"These are your herds." He said: "All these little animals that live in theground—rats, squirrels, skunks, beavers—are good to eat. You need notfear to eat of their flesh." He made all the birds that fly, and told thepeople that there was no harm in their flesh, that it could be eaten. Thefirst people that he created he used to take about through the timber andswamps and over the prairies, and show them the different plants. Of acertain plant he would say, "The root of this plant, if gathered in acertain month of the year, is good for a certain sickness." So theylearned the power of all herbs. In those days there were buffalo. Now thepeople had no arms, but those black animals with long beards were armed;and once, as the people were moving about, the buffalo saw them, and ranafter them, and hooked them, and killed and ate them. One day, as the Makerof the people was travelling over the country, he saw some of his children,that he had made, lying dead, torn to pieces and partly eaten by thebuffalo. When he saw this he was very sad. He said: "This will not do. Iwill change this. The people shall eat the buffalo."

He went to some of the people who were left, and said to them, "How is itthat you people do nothing to these animals that are killing you?" Thepeople said: "What can we do? We have no way to kill these animals, whilethey are armed and can kill us." Then said the Maker: "That is not hard. Iwill make you a weapon that will kill these animals." So he went out, andcut some sarvis berry shoots, and brought them in, and peeled the bark offthem. He took a larger piece of wood, and flattened it, and tied a stringto it, and made a bow. Now, as he was the master of all birds and could dowith them as he wished, he went out and caught one, and took feathers fromits wing, and split them, and tied them to the shaft of wood. He tied fourfeathers along the shaft, and tried the arrow at a mark, and found that itdid not fly well. He took these feathers off, and put on three; and when hetried it again, he found that it was good. He went out and began to breaksharp pieces off the stones. He tried them, and found that the black flintstones made the best arrow points, and some white flints. Then he taughtthe people how to use these things.

Then he said: "The next time you go out, take these things with you, anduse them as I tell you, and do not run from these animals. When they run atyou, as soon as they get pretty close, shoot the arrows at them, as I havetaught you; and you will see that they will run from you or will run in acircle around you."

Now, as people became plenty, one day three men went out on to the plain tosee the buffalo, but they had no arms. They saw the animals, but when thebuffalo saw the men, they ran after them and killed two of them, but onegot away. One day after this, the people went on a little hill to lookabout, and the buffalo saw them, and said, "Saiyah, there is some more ofour food," and they rushed on them. This time the people did not run. Theybegan to shoot at the buffalo with the bows and arrows Na'pi had giventhem, and the buffalo began to fall; but in the fight a person was killed.

At this time these people had flint knives given them, and they cut up thebodies of the dead buffalo. It is not healthful to eat the meat raw, so OldMan gathered soft dry rotten driftwood and made punk of it, and then got apiece of hard wood, and drilled a hole in it with an arrow point, and gavethem a pointed piece of hard wood, and taught them how to make a fire withfire sticks, and to cook the flesh of these animals and eat it.

They got a kind of stone that was in the land, and then took another harderstone and worked one upon the other, and hollowed out the softer one, andmade a kettle of it. This was the fashion of their dishes.

Also Old Man said to the people: "Now, if you are overcome, you may go andsleep, and get power. Something will come to you in your dream, that willhelp you. Whatever these animals tell you to do, you must obey them, asthey appear to you in your sleep. Be guided by them. If anybody wants help,if you are alone and travelling, and cry aloud for help, your prayer willbe answered. It may be by the eagles, perhaps by the buffalo, or by thebears. Whatever animal answers your prayer, you must listen to him." Thatwas how the first people got through the world, by the power of theirdreams.

After this, Old Man kept on, travelling north. Many of the animals that hehad made followed him as he went. The animals understood him when he spoketo them, and he used them as his servants. When he got to the north pointof the Porcupine Mountains, there he made some more mud images of people,and blew breath upon them, and they became people. He made men and women.They asked him, "What are we to eat?" He made many images of clay, in theform of buffalo. Then he blew breath on these, and they stood up; and whenhe made signs to them, they started to run. Then he said to the people,"Those are your food." They said to him, "Well, now, we have those animals;how are we to kill them?" "I will show you," he said. He took them to thecliff, and made them build rock piles like this; and he made the peoplehide behind these piles of rock, and said, "When I lead the buffalo thisway, as I bring them opposite to you, rise up."

After he had told them how to act, he started on toward a herd ofbuffalo. He began to call them, and the buffalo started to run toward him,and they followed him until they were inside the lines. Then he droppedback; and as the people rose up, the buffalo ran in a straight line andjumped over the cliff. He told the people to go and take the flesh of thoseanimals. They tried to tear the limbs apart, but they could not. They triedto bite pieces out, and could not. So Old Man went to the edge of thecliff, and broke some pieces of stone with sharp edges, and told them tocut the flesh with these. When they had taken the skins from these animals,they set up some poles and put the hides on them, and so made a shelter tosleep under. There were some of these buffalo that went over the cliff thatwere not dead. Their legs were broken, but they were still alive. Thepeople cut strips of green hide, and tied stones in the middle, and madelarge mauls, and broke in the skulls of the buffalo, and killed them.

After he had taught those people these things, he started off again,travelling north, until he came to where Bow and Elbow rivers meet. Therehe made some more people, and taught them the same things. From here heagain went on northward. When he had come nearly to the Red Deer's River,he reached the hill where the Old Man sleeps. There he lay down and restedhimself. The form of his body is to be seen there yet.

When he awoke from his sleep, he travelled further northward and came to afine high hill. He climbed to the top of it, and there sat down to rest. Helooked over the country below him, and it pleased him. Before him the hillwas steep, and he said to himself, "Well, this is a fine place for sliding;I will have some fun," and he began to slide down the hill. The marks wherehe slid down are to be seen yet, and the place is known to all people asthe "Old Man's Sliding Ground."

This is as far as the Blackfeet followed Old Man. The Crees know what hedid further north.

In later times once, Na'pi said, "Here I will mark you off a piece ofground," and he did so.[1] Then he said: "There is your land, and it isfull of all kinds of animals, and many things grow in this land. Let noother people come into it. This is for you five tribes (Blackfeet, Bloods,Piegans, Gros Ventres, Sarcees). When people come to cross the line, takeyour bows and arrows, your lances and your battle axes, and give them battleand keep them out. If they gain a footing, trouble will come to you."

[Footnote 1: The boundaries of this land are given as running east from apoint in the summit of the Rocky Mountains west of Fort Edmonton, taking inthe country to the east and south, including the Porcupine Hills, CypressMountains, and Little Rocky Mountains, down to the mouth of the Yellowstoneon the Missouri; then west to the head of the Yellowstone, and across theRocky Mountains to the Beaverhead; thence to the summit of the RockyMountains and north along them to the starting-point.]

Our forefathers gave battle to all people who came to cross these lines,and kept them out. Of late years we have let our friends, the white people,come in, and you know the result. We, his children, have failed to obey hislaws.

THE DOG AND THE STICK

This happened long ago. In those days the people were hungry. No buffalonor antelope were seen on the prairie. The deer and the elk trails werecovered with grass and leaves; not even a rabbit could be found in thebrush. Then the people prayed, saying: "Oh, Old Man, help us now, or weshall die. The buffalo and deer are gone. Uselessly we kindle the morningfires; useless are our arrows; our knives stick fast in the sheaths."

Then Old Man started out to find the game, and he took with him a youngman, the son of a chief. For many days they travelled the prairies and atenothing but berries and roots. One day they climbed a high ridge, and whenthey had reached the top, they saw, far off by a stream, a single lodge.

"What kind of a person can it be," said the young man, "who camps there allalone, far from friends?"

"That," said Old Man, "is the one who has hidden all the buffalo and deerfrom the people. He has a wife and a little son."

Then they went close to the lodge, and Old Man changed himself into alittle dog, and he said, "That is I." Then the young man changed himselfinto a root-digger,[1] and he said, "That is I."

[Footnote 1: A carved and painted stick about three feet long, shaped likea sacking needle, used by women to unearth roots.]

Now the little boy, playing about, found the dog, and he carried it to hisfather, saying, "Look! See what a pretty little dog I have found." "Throwit away," said his father; "it is not a dog." And the little boy cried, buthis father made him carry the dog away. Then the boy found the root-digger;and, again picking up the dog, he carried them both to the lodge, saying,"Look, mother! see the pretty root-digger I have found!"

"Throw them both away," said his father; "that is not a stick, that is nota dog."

"I want that stick," said the woman; "let our son have the little dog."

"Very well," said her husband, "but remember, if trouble comes, you bringit on yourself and on our son." Then he sent his wife and son off to pickberries; and when they were out of sight, he went out and killed a buffalocow, and brought the meat into the lodge and covered it up, and the bones,skin and offal he threw in the creek. When his wife returned, he gave hersome of the meat to roast; and while they were eating, the little boy fedthe dog three times, and when he gave it more, his father took the meataway, saying, "That is not a dog, you shall not feed it more."

In the night, when all were asleep, Old Man and the young man arose intheir right shapes, and ate of the meat. "You were right," said the youngman; "this is surely the person who has hidden the buffalo from us.""Wait," said Old Man; and when they had finished eating, they changedthemselves back into the stick and the dog.

In the morning the man sent his wife and son to dig roots, and the womantook the stick with her. The dog followed the little boy. Now, as theytravelled along in search of roots, they came near a cave, and at its mouthstood a buffalo cow. Then the dog ran into the cave, and the stick,slipping from the woman's hand, followed, gliding along like a snake. Inthis cave they found all the buffalo and other game, and they began todrive them out; and soon the prairie was covered with buffalo anddeer. Never before were seen so many.

Pretty soon the man came running up, and he said to his wife, "Who nowdrives out my animals?" and she replied, "The dog and the stick are now inthere." "Did I not tell you," said he, "that those were not what theylooked like? See now the trouble you have brought upon us," and he put anarrow on his bow and waited for them to come out. But they were cunning,for when the last animal—a big bull—was about to go out, the stickgrasped him by the hair under his neck, and coiled up in it, and the dogheld on by the hair beneath, until they were far out on the prairie, whenthey changed into their true shapes, and drove the buffalo toward camp.

When the people saw the buffalo coming, they drove a big band of them tothe pis'kun; but just as the leaders were about to jump off, a raven cameand flapped its wings in front of them and croaked, and they turned offanother way. Every time a band of buffalo was driven near the pis'kun, thisraven frightened them away. Then Old Man knew that the raven was the onewho had kept the buffalo cached.

So he went and changed himself into a beaver, and lay stretched out on thebank of the river, as if dead; and the raven, which was very hungry, flewdown and began to pick at him. Then Old Man caught it by the legs and ranwith it to camp, and all the chiefs came together to decide what should bedone with it. Some said to kill it, but Old Man said, "No! I will punish*t," and he tied it over the lodge, right in the smoke hole.

As the days went by, the raven grew poor and weak, and his eyes wereblurred with the thick smoke, and he cried continually to Old Man to pityhim. One day Old Man untied him, and told him to take his right shape,saying: "Why have you tried to fool Old Man? Look at me! I cannot die. Lookat me! Of all peoples and tribes I am the chief. I cannot die. I made themountains. They are standing yet. I made the prairies and the rocks. Yousee them yet. Go home, then, to your wife and your child, and when you arehungry hunt like any one else, or you shall die."

THE BEARS

Now Old Man was walking along, and far off he saw many wolves; and when hecame closer, he saw there the chief of the wolves, a very old one, andsitting around him were all his children.

Old Man said, "Pity me, Wolf Chief; make me into a wolf, that I may liveyour way and catch deer and everything that runs fast."

"Come near then," said the Wolf Chief, "that I may rub your body with myhands, so that hair will cover you."

"Hold," said Old Man; "do not cover my body with hair. On my head, arms,and legs only, put hair."

When the Chief Wolf had done so, he said to Old Man: "You shall have threecompanions to help you, one is a very swift runner, another a good runner,and the last is not very fast. Take them with you now, and others of myyounger children who are learning to hunt, but do not go where the windblows; keep in the shelter, or the young ones will freeze to death." Thenthey went hunting, and Old Man led them on the high buttes, where it wasvery cold.

At night, they lay down to sleep, and Old Man nearly froze; and he said tothe wolves, "Cover me with your tails." So all the wolves lay down aroundhim, and covered his body with their tails, and he soon got warm and slept.Before long he awoke and said angrily, "Take off those tails," and thewolves moved away; but after a little time he again became cold, and criedout, "Oh my young brothers, cover me with your tails or I shall freeze."So they lay down by him again and covered his body with their tails.

When it was daylight, they all rose and hunted. They saw some moose, and,chasing them, killed three. Now, when they were about to eat, the ChiefWolf came along with many of his children, and one wolf said, "Let us makepemmican of those moose"; and every one was glad. Then said the one whomade pemmican, "No one must look, everybody shut his eyes, while I make thepemmican"; but Old Man looked, and the pemmican-maker threw a round boneand hit him on the nose, and it hurt. Then Old Man said, "Let me make thepemmican." So all the wolves shut their eyes, and Old Man took the roundbone and killed the wolf who had hit him. Then the Chief Wolf was angry,and he said, "Why did you kill your brother?" "I didn't mean to," repliedOld Man. "He looked and I threw the round bone at him, but I only meant tohurt him a little." Then said the Chief Wolf: "You cannot live with us anylonger. Take one of your companions, and go off by yourselves and hunt." SoOld Man took the swift runner, and they went and lived by themselves a longtime; and they killed all the elk, and deer, and antelope, and moose theywanted.

One morning they awoke, and Old Man said: "Oh my young brother, I have hada bad dream. Hereafter, when you chase anything, if it jumps a stream, youmust not follow it. Even a little spring you must not jump." And the wolfpromised not to jump over water.

Now one day the wolf was chasing a moose, and it ran on to an island. Thestream about it was very small; so the wolf thought: "This is such a littlestream that I must jump it. That moose is very tired, and I don't think itwill leave the island." So he jumped on to the island, and as soon as heentered the brush, a bear caught him, for the island was the home of theChief Bear and his two brothers. Old Man waited a long time for the wolf tocome back, and then went to look for him. He asked all the birds he met ifthey had seen him, but they all said they had not.

At last he saw a kingfisher, who was sitting on a limb overhanging thewater. "Why do you sit there, my young brother?" said Old Man. "Because,"replied the kingfisher, "the Chief Bear and his brothers have killed yourwolf; they have eaten the meat and thrown the fat into the river, andwhenever I see a piece come floating along, I fly down and get it." Thensaid Old Man, "Do the Bear Chief and his brothers often come out? and wheredo they live?" "They come out every morning to play," said the kingfisher;"and they live upon that island."

Old Man went up there and saw their tracks on the sand, where they had beenplaying, and he turned himself into a rotten tree. By and by the bears cameout, and when they saw the tree, the Chief Bear said: "Look at that rottentree. It is Old Man. Go, brothers, and see if it is not." So the twobrothers went over to the tree, and clawed it; and they said, "No, brother,it is only a tree." Then the Chief Bear went over and clawed and bit thetree, and although it hurt Old Man, he never moved. Then the Bear Chief wassure it was only a tree, and he began to play with his brothers. Now whilethey were playing, and all were on their backs, Old Man leaned over andshot an arrow into each one of them; and they cried out loudly and ran backon the island. Then Old Man changed into himself, and walked down along theriver. Pretty soon he saw a frog jumping along, and every time it jumped itwould say, "Ni'-nah O-kyai'-yu!" And sometimes it would stop and sing:—

"Ni'-nah O-kyai'-yu! Ni'-nah O-kyai'-yu! Chief Bear! Chief Bear!Nap'-i I-nit'-si-wah Ni'-nah O-kyai'-yu!" Old Man kill him ChiefBear! "What do you say?" cried Old Man. The frog repeated what he had said.

"Ah!" exclaimed Old Man, "tell me all about it."

"The Chief Bear and his brothers," replied the frog, "were playing on thesand, when Old Man shot arrows into them. They are not dead, but the arrowsare very near their hearts; if you should shove ever so little on them, thepoints would cut their hearts. I am going after medicine now to cure them."

Then Old Man killed the frog and skinned her, and put the hide on himselfand swam back to the island, and hopped up toward the bears, crying atevery step, "Ni'-nah O-kyai'-yu!" just as the frog had done.

"Hurry," cried the Chief Bear.

"Yes," replied Old Man, and he went up and shoved the arrow into his heart.

"I cured him; he is asleep now," he cried, and he went up and shoved thearrow into the biggest brother's heart. "I cured them; they are asleepnow"; and he went up and shoved the arrow into the other bear's heart. Thenhe built a big fire and skinned the bears, and tried out the fat and pouredit into a hollow in the ground; and he called all the animals to come androll in it, that they might be fat. And all the animals came and rolled init. The bears came first and rolled in it, that is the reason they get sofat. Last of all came the rabbits, and the grease was almost all gone; butthey filled their paws with it and rubbed it on their backs and betweentheir hind legs. That is the reason why rabbits have two such large layersof fat on their backs, and that is what makes them so fat between the hindlegs.

[NOTE.—The four preceding stories show the serious side of Old Man'scharacter. Those which follow represent him as malicious, foolish, andimpotent.]

THE WONDERFUL BIRD

One day, as Old Man was walking about in the woods, he saw something veryqueer. A bird was sitting on the limb of a tree making a strange noise, andevery time it made this noise, its eyes would go out of its head and fastenon the tree; then it would make another kind of a noise, and its eyes wouldcome back to their places.

"Little Brother," cried Old Man, "teach me how to do that."

"If I show you how to do that," replied the bird, "you must not let youreyes go out of your head more than three times a day. If you do, you willbe sorry."

"Just as you say, Little Brother. The trick is yours, and I will listen toyou."

When the bird had taught Old Man how to do it, he was very glad, and did itthree times right away. Then he stopped. "That bird has no sense," hesaid. "Why did he tell me to do it only three times? I will do it again,anyhow." So he made his eyes go out a fourth time; but now he could notcall them back. Then he called to the bird, "Oh Little Brother, come helpme get back my eyes." The little bird did not answer him. It had flownaway. Then Old Man felt all over the trees with his hands, but he could notfind his eyes; and he wandered about for a long time, crying and callingthe animals to help him.

A wolf had much fun with him. The wolf had found a dead buffalo, and takinga piece of the meat which smelled bad, he would hold it close to OldMan. "I smell something dead," Old Man would say. "I wish I could find it; Iam nearly starved to death." And he would feel all around for it. Once,when the wolf was doing this, Old Man caught him, and, plucking out one ofhis eyes, he put it in his own head. Then he could see, and was able tofind his own eyes; but he could never again do the trick the little birdhad taught him.

THE RACE

Once Old Man was travelling around, when he heard some very queersinging. He had never heard anything like this before, and looked allaround to see who it was. At last he saw it was the cottontail rabbits,singing and making medicine. They had built a fire, and got a lot of hotashes, and they would lie down in these ashes and sing while one coveredthem up. They would stay there only a short time though, for the ashes werevery hot.

"Little Brothers," said Old Man, "that is very wonderful, how you lie inthose hot ashes and coals without burning. I wish you would teach me how todo it."

"Come on, Old Man," said the rabbits, "we will show you how to do it. Youmust sing our song, and only stay in the ashes a short time." So Old Manbegan to sing, and he lay down, and they covered him with coals and ashes,and they did not burn him at all.

"That is very nice," he said. "You have powerful medicine. Now I want toknow it all, so you lie down and let me cover you up."

So the rabbits all lay down in the ashes, and Old Man covered them up, andthen he put the whole fire over them. One old rabbit got out, and Old Manwas about to put her back when she said, "Pity me, my children are about tobe born."

"All right," replied Old Man. "I will let you go, so there will be somemore rabbits; but I will roast these nicely and have a feast." And he putmore wood on the fire. When the rabbits were cooked, he cut some red willowbrush and laid them on it to cool. The grease soaked into these branches,so, even to-day if you hold red willow over a fire, you will see the greaseon the bark. You can see, too, that ever since, the rabbits have a burntplace on their backs, where the one that got away was singed.

Old Man sat down, and was waiting for the rabbits to cool a little, when acoyote came along, limping very badly. "Pity me, Old Man," he said, "youhave lots of cooked rabbits; give me one of them."

"Go away," exclaimed Old Man. "If you are too lazy to catch your food, Iwill not help you."

"My leg is broken," said the coyote. "I can't catch anything, and I amstarving. Just give me half a rabbit."

"I don't care if you die," replied Old Man. "I worked hard to cook allthese rabbits, and I will not give any away. But I will tell you what wewill do. We will run a race to that butte, way out there, and if you beatme you can have a rabbit."

"All right," said the coyote. So they started. Old Man ran very fast, andthe coyote limped along behind, but close to him, until they got near tothe butte. Then the coyote turned round and ran back very fast, for he wasnot lame at all. It took Old Man a long time to go back, and just before hegot to the fire, the coyote swallowed the last rabbit, and trotted off overthe prairie.

THE BAD WEAPONS

Once Old Man was fording a river, when the current carried him down stream,and he lost his weapons. He was very hungry, so he took the first wood hecould find, and made a bow and arrows, and a handle for his knife andspear. When he had finished them, he started up a mountain. Pretty soon hesaw a bear digging roots, and he thought he would have some fun, so he hidbehind a log and called out, "No-tail animal, what are you doing?" Thebear looked up, but, seeing no one, kept on digging.

Then Old Man called out again, "Hi! you dirt-eater!" and then he dodgedback out of sight. Then the bear sat up again, and this time he saw Old Manand ran after him.

Old Man began shooting arrows at him, but the points only stuck in theskin, for the shafts were rotten and snapped off. Then he threw his spear,but that too was rotten, and broke. He tried to stab the bear, but hisknife handle was also rotten and broke, so he turned and ran; and the bearpursued him. As he ran, he looked about for some weapon, but there wasnone, not even a rock. He called out to the animals to help him, but nonecame. His breath was almost gone, and the bear was very close to him, whenhe saw a bull's horn lying on the ground. He picked it up, placed it on hishead, and, turning around, bellowed so loudly that the bear was scared andran away.

THE ELK

Old Man was very hungry. He had been a long time without food, and wasthinking how he could get something to eat, when he saw a band of elk on aridge. So he went up to them and said, "Oh, my brothers, I am lonesomebecause I have no one to follow me."

"Go on, Old Man," said the elk, "we will follow you." Old Man led themabout a long time, and when it was dark, he came near a high-cut bank. Heran around to one side where there was a slope, and he went down and thenstood right under the steep bluff, and called out, "Come on, that is a nicejump, you will laugh."

So the elk jumped off, all but one cow, and were killed.

"Come on," said Old Man, "they have all jumped but you, it is nice."

"Take pity on me," replied the cow. "My child is about to be born, and I amvery heavy. I am afraid to jump."

"Go on, then," answered Old Man; "go and live; then there will be plenty ofelk again some day."

Now Old Man built a fire and cooked some ribs, and then he skinned all theelk, cut up the meat to dry, and hung the tongues up on a pole.

Next day he went off, and did not come back until night, when he was veryhungry again. "I'll roast some ribs," he said, "and a tongue, and I'llstuff a marrow gut and cook that. I guess that will be enough forto-night." But when he got to the place, the meat was all gone. The wolveshad eaten it. "I was smart to hang up those tongues," he said, "or I wouldnot have had anything to eat." But the tongues were all hollow. The micehad eaten the meat out, leaving only the skin. So Old Man starved again.

OLD MAN DOCTORS

A pis'kun had been built, and many buffalo had been run in and killed. Thecamp was full of meat. Great sheets of it hung in the lodges and on theracks outside; and now the women, having cut up all the meat, were workingon the hides, preparing some for robes, and scraping the hair from others,to make leather.

About this time, Old Man came along. He had come from far and was verytired, so he entered the first lodge he came to and sat down. Now thislodge belonged to three old women. Their husbands had died or been killedin war, and they had no relations to help them, so they were verypoor. After Old Man had rested a little, they set a dish of food beforehim. It was dried bull meat, very tough, and some pieces of belly fat.

"Hai'-yah ho!" cried Old Man, after he had tasted a piece. "You treat mebadly. A whole pis'kun of fat buffalo just killed; the camp red with meat,and here these old women give me tough bull meat and belly fat to eat.Hurry now! roast me some ribs and a piece of back fat."

"Alas!" exclaimed one old woman. "We have no good food. All our helpers aredead, and we take what others leave. Bulls and poor cows are all the peopleleave us."

"Ah!" said Old Man, "how poor! you are very poor. Take courage now. I willhelp you. To-morrow they will run another band into the pis'kun. I will bethere. I will kill the fattest cow, and you can have it all."

Then the old women were glad. They talked to one another, saying, "Very goodheart, Old Man. He helps the poor. Now we will live. We will have marrowguts and liver. We will have paunch and fat kidneys."

Old Man said nothing more. He ate the tough meat and belly fat, and rolledup in his robe and went to sleep.

Morning came. The people climbed the bluffs and went out on to the prairie,where they hid behind the piles of rock and bushes, which reached far outfrom the cliff in lines which were always further and further apart. Aftera while, he who leads the buffalo was seen coming, bringing a large bandafter him. Soon they were inside the lines. The people began to rise upbehind them, shouting and waving their robes. Now they reached the edge ofthe bluff. The leaders tried to stop and turn, but those behind keptpushing on, and nearly the whole band dashed down over the rocks, only afew of the last ones turning aside and escaping.

The lodges were now deserted. All the people were gone to the pis'kun tokill the buffalo and butcher them. Where was Old Man? Did he take his bowand arrows and go to the pis'kun to kill a fat cow for the poor old women?No. He was sneaking around, lifting the door-ways of the lodges andlooking in. Bad person, Old Man. In the chiefs lodge he saw a little child,a girl, asleep. Outside was a buffalo's gall, and taking a long stick hedipped the end of it in the gall; and then, reaching carefully into thelodge, he drew it across the lips of the child asleep. Then he threw thestick away, and went in and sat down. Soon the girl awoke and began tocry. The gall was very bitter and burned her lips.

"Pity me, Old Man," she said. "Take this fearful thing from my lips."

"I do not doctor unless I am paid," he replied. Then said the girl: "Seeall my father's Weapons hanging there. His shield, war head-dress, scalps,and knife. Cure me now, and I will give you some of them."

"I have more of such things than I want," he replied. (What a liar! he hadnone at all.)

Again said the girl, "Pity me, help me now, and I will give you my father'swhite buffalo robe."

"I have plenty of white robes," replied Old Man. (Again he lied, for henever had one.)

"Old Man," again said the girl, "in this lodge lives a widow woman, myfather's relation. Remove this fearful thing from my lips, and I will havemy father give her to you."

"Now you speak well," replied Old Man. "I am a little glad. I have manywives" (he had none), "but I would just as soon have another one."

So he went close to the child and pretended to doctor her, but instead ofthat, he killed her and ran out. He went to the old women's lodge, andwrapped a strip of cowskin about his head, and commenced to groan, as if hewas very sick.

Now the people began to come from the pis'kun, carrying great loads ofmeat. This dead girl's mother came, and when she saw her child lying dead,and blood on the ground, she ran back crying out: "My daughter has beenkilled! My daughter has been killed!"

Then all the people began to shout out and run around, and the warriors andyoung men looked in the lodges, and up and down the creek in the brush, butthey could find no one who might have killed the child.

Then said the father of the dead girl: "Now, to-day, we will find out whokilled this child. Every man in this camp—every young man, every oldman—must come and jump across the creek; and if any one does not jumpacross, if he falls in the water, that man is the one who did thekilling." All heard this, and they began to gather at the creek, one behindanother; and the women and children went to look on, for they wanted to seethe person who had killed the little child. Now they were ready. They wereabout to jump, when some one cried out, "Old Man is not here."

"True," said the chief, looking around, "Old Man is not here." And he senttwo young men to bring him.

"Old Man!" they cried out, when they came to the lodge, "a child has beenkilled. We have all got to jump to find out who did it. The chief has sentfor you. You will have to jump, too."

"Ki'-yo!" exclaimed the old women. "Old Man is very sick. Go off, and lethim alone. He is so sick he could not kill meat for us to-day."

"It can't be helped," the young men replied. "The chief says every one mustjump."

So Old Man went out toward the creek very slowly, and very much scared. Hedid not know what to do. As he was going along he saw a ni'-po-muk-i[1]and he said: "Oh my little brother, pity me. Give me some of your power tojump the creek, and here is my necklace. See how pretty it is. I will giveit to you."

[Footnote 1: The chickadee.]

So they traded; Old Man took some of the bird's power, and the bird took
Old Man's necklace and put it on.

Now they jump. Wo'-ka-hi! they jump way across and far on to theground. Now they jump; another! another! another! Now it comes Old Man'sturn. He runs, he jumps, he goes high, and strikes the ground far beyondany other person's jump. Now comes the ni'-po-muk-i. "Wo'-ka-hi!" the menshout. "Ki'-yo!" cry the women, "the bird has fallen in the creek." Thewarriors are running to kill him. "Wait! Hold on!" cries the bird. "Let mespeak a few words. Every one knows I am a good jumper. I can jump furtherthan any one; but Old Man asked me for some of my power, and I gave it tohim, and he gave me this necklace. It is very heavy and pulled medown. That is why I fell into the creek."

Then the people began to shout and talk again, some saying to kill thebird, and some not, when Old Man shouted out: "Wait, listen to me. What'sthe use of quarrelling or killing anybody? Let us go back, and I willdoctor the child alive."

Good words. The people were glad. So they went back, and got ready for thedoctoring. First, Old Man ordered a large fire built in the lodge where thedead girl was lying. Two old men were placed at the back of the lodge,facing each other. They had spears, which they held above their heads andwere to thrust back and forth at each other in time to the singing. Nearthe door-way were placed two old women, facing each other. Each one held apuk'-sah-tchis,[1]—a maul,—with which she was to beat time to thesinging. The other seats in the lodge were taken by people who were tosing. Now Old Man hung a big roll of belly fat close over the fire, so thatthe hot grease began to drip, and everything was ready, and the singingbegan. This was Old Man's song:—

[Footnote 1: A round or oblong stone, to which a handle was bound byrawhide thongs, used for breaking marrow bones, etc.]

[Illustration:]

Ahk-sa'-k[=e]-wah, Ahk-sa'-k[=e]-wah, Ahk-sa'-k[=e]-wah, etc. I don'tcare, I don't care, I don't care.

And so they sung for a long time, the old men jabbing their spears at eachother, and the old women pretending to hit each other with their mauls.

After a while they rested, and Old Man said: "Now I want every one to shuttheir eyes. No one can look. I am going to begin the real doctoring." Sothe people shut their eyes, and the singing began again. Then Old Man tookthe dripping hot fat from the fire, gave it a mighty swing around thecircle in front of the people's faces, jumped out the door-way, and ranoff. Every one was burned. The two old men wounded each other with theirspears. The old women knocked each other on the head with their mauls. Thepeople cried and groaned, wiped their burned faces, and rushed out thedoor; but Old Man was gone. They saw him no more.

THE ROCK

Once Old Man was travelling, and becoming tired he sat down on a rock torest. After a while he started to go on, and because the sun was hot hethrew his robe over the rock, saying: "Here, I give you my robe, becauseyou are poor and have let me rest on you. Always keep it."

He had not gone very far, when it began to rain, and meeting a coyote hesaid: "Little brother, run back to that rock, and ask him to lend me hisrobe. We will cover ourselves with it and keep dry." So the coyote ran backto the rock, but returned without the robe. "Where is the robe?" asked OldMan. "Sai-yah!" replied the coyote. "The rock said you gave him therobe, and he was going to keep it."

Then Old Man was very angry, and went back to the rock and jerked the robeoff it, saying: "I only wanted to borrow this robe until the rain was over,but now that you have acted so mean about it, I will keep it. You don'tneed a robe anyhow. You have been out in the rain and snow all your life,and it will not hurt you to live so always."

With the coyote he went off into a coulée, and sat down. The rain wasfalling, and they covered themselves with the robe and were verycomfortable. Pretty soon they heard a loud noise, and Old Man told thecoyote to go up on the hill and see what it was. Soon he came running back,saying, "Run! run! the big rock is coming"; and they both ran away as fastas they could. The coyote tried to crawl into a badger hole, but it was toosmall for him and he stuck fast, and before he could get out, the rockrolled over him and crushed his hind parts. Old Man was scared, and as heran he threw off his robe and what clothes he could, so that he might runfaster. The rock kept gaining on him all the time.

Not far off was a band of buffalo bulls, and Old Man cried out to them,saying, "Oh my brothers, help me, help me. Stop that rock." The bulls ranand tried to stop it, but it crushed their heads. Some deer and antelopetried to help Old Man, but they were killed, too. A lot of rattlesnakesformed themselves into a lariat, and tried to catch it; but those at thenoose end were all cut to pieces. The rock was now close to Old Man, soclose that it began to hit his heels; and he was about to give up, when hesaw a flock of bull bats circling over his head. "Oh my little brothers,"he cried, "help me. I am almost dead." Then the bull bats flew down, oneafter another, against the rock; and every time one of them hit it hechipped off a piece, and at last one hit it fair in the middle and broke itinto two pieces.

Then Old Man was very glad. He went to where there was a nest of bull bats,and made the young ones' mouths very wide and pinched off their bills, tomake them pretty and queer looking. That is the reason they look so to-day.

THE THEFT FROM THE SUN

Once Old Man was travelling around, when he came to the Sun's lodge, andthe Sun asked him to stay a while. Old Man was very glad to do so.

One day the meat was all gone, and the Sun said, "Kyi! Old Man, what sayyou if we go and kill some deer?"

"You speak well," replied Old Man. "I like deer meat."

The Sun took down a bag and pulled out a beautiful pair of leggings. Theywere embroidered with porcupine quills and bright feathers. "These," saidthe Sun, "are my hunting leggings. They are great medicine. All I have todo is to put them on and walk around a patch of brush, when the leggingsset it on fire and drive the deer out so that I can shoot them."

"Hai-yah!" exclaimed Old Man. "How wonderful!" He made up his mind hewould have those leggings, if he had to steal them.

They went out to hunt, and the first patch of brush they came to, the Sunset on fire with his hunting leggings. A lot of white-tail deer ran out,and they each shot one.

That night, when they went to bed, the Sun pulled off his leggings andplaced them to one side. Old Man saw where he put them, and in the middleof the night, when every one was asleep, he stole them and went off. Hetravelled a long time, until he had gone far and was very tired, and then,making a pillow of the leggings, lay down and slept. In the morning, heheard some one talking. The Sun was saying, "Old Man, why are my leggingsunder your head?" He looked around, and saw he was in the Sun's lodge, andthought he must have wandered around and got lost, and returnedthere. Again the Sun spoke and said, "What are you doing with my leggings?""Oh," replied Old Man, "I couldn't find anything for a pillow, so I justput these under my head."

Night came again, and again Old Man stole the leggings and ran off. Thistime he did not walk at all; he just kept running until pretty nearmorning, and then lay down and slept. You see what a fool he was. He didnot know that the whole world is the Sun's lodge. He did not know that, nomatter how far he ran, he could not get out of the Sun's sight. Whenmorning came, he found himself still in the Sun's lodge. But this time theSun said: "Old Man, since you like my leggings so much, I will give them toyou. Keep them." Then Old Man was very glad and went away.

One day his food was all gone, so he put on the medicine leggings and setfire to a piece of brush. He was just going to kill some deer that wererunning out, when he saw that the fire was getting close to him. He ranaway as fast as he could, but the fire gained on him and began to burn hislegs. His leggings were all on fire. He came to a river and jumped in, andpulled off the leggings as soon as he could. They were burned to pieces.

Perhaps the Sun did this to him because he tried to steal the leggings.

THE FOX

One day Old Man went out hunting and took the fox with him. They hunted forseveral days, but killed nothing. It was nice warm weather in the latefall. After they had become very hungry, as they were going along one day,Old Man went up over a ridge and on the other side he saw four big buffalobulls lying down; but there was no way by which they could get nearthem. He dodged back out of sight and told the fox what he had seen, andthey thought for a long time, to see if there was no way by which thesebulls might be killed.

At last Old Man said to the fox: "My little brother, I can think of onlyone way to get these bulls. This is my plan, if you agree to it. I willpluck all the fur off you except one tuft on the end of your tail. Then yougo over the hill and walk up and down in sight of the bulls, and you willseem so funny to them that they will laugh themselves to death."

The fox did not like to do this, but he could think of nothing better, sohe agreed to what Old Man proposed. Old Man plucked him perfectly bare,except the end of his tail, and the fox went over the ridge and walked upand down. When he had come close to the bulls, he played around and walkedon his hind legs and went through all sorts of antics. When the bulls firstsaw him, they got up on their feet, and looked at him. They did not knowwhat to make of him. Then they began to laugh, and the more they looked athim, the more they laughed, until at last one by one they fell downexhausted and died. Then Old Man came over the hill, and went down to thebulls, and began to butcher them. By this time it had grown a littlecolder.

"Ah, little brother," said Old Man to the fox, "you did splendidly. I donot wonder that the bulls laughed themselves to death. I nearly died myselfas I watched you from the hill. You looked very funny." While he was sayingthis, he was working away skinning off the hides and getting the meat readyto carry to camp, all the time talking to the fox, who stood about, hisback humped up and his teeth chattering with the cold. Now a wind sprang upfrom the north and a few snowflakes were flying in the air. It was growingcolder and colder. Old Man kept on talking, and every now and then he wouldsay something to the fox, who was sitting behind him perfectly still, withhis jaw shoved out and his teeth shining.

At last Old Man had the bulls all skinned and the meat cut up, and as herose up he said: "It is getting pretty cold, isn't it? Well, we do not carefor the cold. We have got all our winter's meat, and we will have nothingto do but feast and dance and sing until spring." The fox made noanswer. Then Old Man got angry, and called out: "Why don't you answer me?Don't you hear me talking to you?" The fox said nothing. Then Old Man wasmad, and he said, "Can't you speak?" and stepped up to the fox and gave hima push with his foot, and the fox fell over. He was dead, frozen stiff withthe cold.

OLD MAN AND THE LYNX

Old Man was travelling round over the prairie, when he saw a lot ofprairie-dogs sitting in a circle. They had built a fire, and were sittingaround it. Old Man went toward them, and when he got near them, he began tocry, and said, "Let me, too, sit by that fire." The prairie-dogs said: "Allright, Old Man. Don't cry. Come and sit by the fire." Old Man sat down,and saw that the prairie-dogs were playing a game. They would put one oftheir number in the fire and cover him up with the hot ashes; and then,after he had been there a little while, he would say sk, sk, and theywould push the ashes off him, and pull him out.

Old Man said, "Teach me how to do that"; and they told him what to do, andput him in the fire, and covered him up with the ashes, and after a littlewhile he said sk, sk, like a prairie-dog, and they pulled him outagain. Then he did it to the prairie-dogs. At first he put them in one at atime, but there were many of them, and pretty soon he got tired, and said,"Come, I will put you all in at once." They said, "Very well, Old Man," andall got in the ashes; but just as Old Man was about to cover them up, oneof them, a female heavy with young, said, "Do not cover me up; the heat mayhurt my children, which are about to be born." Old Man said: "Very well. Ifyou do not want to be covered up, you can sit over by the fire and watchthe rest." Then he covered up all the others.

At length the prairie-dogs said sk, sk, but Old Man did not sweep theashes off and pull them out of the fire. He let them stay there and die. Theold she one ran off to a hole and, as she went down in it, said sk,sk. Old Man chased her, but he got to the hole too late to catch her. Sohe said: "Oh, well, you can go. There will be more prairie-dogs by and by."

When the prairie-dogs were roasted, Old Man cut a lot of red willow brushto lay them on, and then sat down and began to eat. He ate until he wasfull, and then felt sleepy. He said to his nose: "I am going to sleepnow. Watch for me and wake me up in case anything comes near." Then Old Manslept. Pretty soon his nose snored, and he woke up and said, "What is it?"The nose said, "A raven is flying over there." Old Man said, "That isnothing," and went to sleep again. Soon his nose snored again. Old Mansaid, "What is it now?" The nose said, "There is a coyote over there,coming this way." Old Man said, "A coyote is nothing," and again went tosleep. Presently his nose snored again, but Old Man did not wake up. Againit snored, and called out, "Wake up, a bob-cat is coming." Old Man paid noattention. He slept on.

The bob-cat crept up to where the fire was, and ate up all the roastprairie-dogs, and then went off and lay down on a flat rock, and went tosleep. All this time the nose kept trying to wake Old Man up, and at lasthe awoke, and the nose said: "A bob-cat is over there on that flat rock. Hehas eaten all your food." Then Old Man called out loud, he was so angry. Hewent softly over to where the bob-cat lay, and seized it, before it couldwake up to bite or scratch him. The bob-cat cried out, "Hold on, let mespeak a word or two." But Old Man would not listen; he said, "I will teachyou to steal my food." He pulled off the lynx's tail, pounded his headagainst the rock so as to make his face flat, pulled him out long, so as tomake him small-bellied, and then threw him away into the brush. As he wentsneaking off, Old Man said, "There, that is the way you bob-cats shallalways be." That is the reason the lynxes look so today.

Old Man went back to the fire, and looked at the red willow sticks wherehis food had been, and it made him mad at his nose. He said, "You fool, whydid you not wake me?" He took the willow sticks and thrust them in thecoals, and when they took fire, he burned his nose. This pained himgreatly, and he ran up on a hill and held his nose to the wind, and calledon it to blow hard and cool him. A hard wind came, and it blew him awaydown to Birch Creek. As he was flying along, he caught at the weeds andbrush to try to stop himself, but nothing was strong enough to hold him. Atlast he seized a birch tree. He held on to this, and it did not giveway. Although the wind whipped him about, this way and that, and tumbledhim up and down, the tree held him. He kept calling to the wind to blowgently, and finally it listened to him and went down.

So he said: "This is a beautiful tree. It has kept me from being blown awayand knocked all to pieces. I will ornament it and it shall always be likethat." So he gashed it across with his stone knife, as you see it to-day.

Fifty years ago the name Blackfoot was one of terrible meaning to the whitetraveller who passed across that desolate buffalo-trodden waste which layto the north of the Yellowstone River and east of the Rocky Mountains. Thiswas the Blackfoot land, the undisputed home of a people which is said tohave numbered in one of its tribes—the Pi-k[)u]n'-i—8000 lodges, or40,000 persons. Besides these, there were the Blackfeet and the Bloods,three tribes of one nation, speaking the same language, having the samecustoms, and holding the same religious faith.

But this land had not always been the home of the Blackfeet. Long ago,before the coming of the white men, they had lived in another country farto the north and east, about Lesser Slave Lake, ranging between Peace Riverand the Saskatchewan, and having for their neighbors on the north theBeaver Indians. Then the Blackfeet were a timber people. It is said thatabout two hundred years ago the Chippeweyans from the east invaded thiscountry and drove them south and west. Whether or no this is true, it isquite certain that not many generations back the Blackfeet lived on theNorth Saskatchewan River and to the north of that stream.[1] Graduallyworking their way westward, they at length reached the Rocky Mountains,and, finding game abundant, remained there until they obtained horses, inthe very earliest years of the present century. When they secured horses andguns, they took courage and began to venture out on to the plains and to goto war. From this time on, the Blackfeet made constant war on theirneighbors to the south, and in a few years controlled the whole countrybetween the Saskatchewan on the north and the Yellowstone on the south.

[Footnote 1: For a more extended account of this migration, see American
Anthropologist, April, 1892, p. 153.]

It was, indeed, a glorious country which the Blackfeet had wrested fromtheir southern enemies. Here nature has reared great mountains and spreadout broad prairies. Along the western border of this region, the RockyMountains lift their snow-clad peaks above the clouds. Here and there, fromnorth to south, and from east to west, lie minor ranges, black with pineforests if seen near at hand, or in the distance mere gray silhouettesagainst a sky of blue. Between these mountain ranges lies everywhere thegreat prairie; a monotonous waste to the stranger's eye, but not withoutit* charm. It is brown and bare; for, except during a few short weeks inspring, the sparse bunch-grass is sear and yellow, and the silver gray ofthe wormwood lends an added dreariness to the landscape. Yet this seeminglydesert waste has a beauty of its own. At intervals it is marked with greenwinding river valleys, and everywhere it is gashed with deep ravines, theirsides painted in strange colors of red and gray and brown, and theirperpendicular walls crowned with fantastic columns and figures of stone orclay, carved out by the winds and the rains of ages. Here and there, risingout of the plain, are curious sharp ridges, or square-topped buttes withvertical sides, sometimes bare, and sometimes dotted with pines,—short,sturdy trees, whose gnarled trunks and thick, knotted branches have beentwisted and wrung into curious forms by the winds which blow unceasingly,hour after hour, day after day, and month after month, over mountain rangeand prairie, through gorge and coulée.

These prairies now seem bare of life, but it was not always so. Not verylong ago, they were trodden by multitudinous herds of buffalo and antelope;then, along the wooded river valleys and on the pine-clad slopes of themountains, elk, deer, and wild sheep fed in great numbers. They are allgone now. The winter's wind still whistles over Montana prairies, butnature's shaggy-headed wild cattle no longer feel its biting blasts. Whereonce the scorching breath of summer stirred only the short stems of thebuffalo-grass, it now billows the fields of the white man'sgrain. Half-hidden by the scanty herbage, a few bleached skeletons aloneremain to tell us of the buffalo; and the broad, deep trails, over whichthe dark herds passed by thousands, are now grass-grown and fastdisappearing under the effacing hand of time. The buffalo have disappeared,and the fate of the buffalo has almost overtaken the Blackfeet.

As known to the whites, the Blackfeet were true prairie Indians, seldomventuring into the mountains, except when they crossed them to war with theKutenais, the Flatheads, or the Snakes. They subsisted almost wholly on theflesh of the buffalo. They were hardy, untiring, brave, ferocious. Swiftto move, whether on foot or horseback, they made long journeys to war, andwith telling force struck their enemies. They had conquered and driven outfrom the territory which they occupied the tribes who once inhabited it,and maintained a desultory and successful warfare against all invaders,fighting with the Crees on the north, the Assinaboines on the east, theCrows on the south, and the Snakes, Kalispels, and Kutenais on thesouthwest and west. In those days the Blackfeet were rich and powerful.The buffalo fed and clothed them, and they needed nothing beyond whatnature supplied. This was their time of success and happiness.

Crowded into a little corner of the great territory which they oncedominated, and holding this corner by an uncertain tenure, a few Blackfeetstill exist, the pitiful remnant of a once mighty people. Huddled togetherabout their agencies, they are facing the problem before them, striving,helplessly but bravely, to accommodate themselves to the new order ofthings; trying in the face of adverse surroundings to wrench themselvesloose from their accustomed ways of life; to give up inherited habits andform new ones; to break away from all that is natural to them, from allthat they have been taught—to reverse their whole mode of existence. Theyare striving to earn their living, as the white man earns his, by toil. Thestruggle is hard and slow, and in carrying it on they are wasting away andgrowing fewer in numbers. But though unused to labor, ignorant ofa*griculture, unacquainted with tools or seeds or soils, knowing nothing ofthe ways of life in permanent houses or of the laws of health, scantilyfed, often utterly discouraged by failure, they are still making a noblefight for existence.

Only within a few years—since the buffalo disappeared—has this changebeen going on; so recently has it come that the old order and the new meetface to face. In the trees along the river valleys, still quietly restingon their aerial sepulchres, sleep the forms of the ancient hunter-warriorwho conquered and held this broad land; while, not far away, Blackfootfarmers now rudely cultivate their little crops, and gather scanty harvestsfrom narrow fields.

It is the meeting of the past and the present, of savagery andcivilization. The issue cannot be doubtful. Old methods must pass away. TheBlackfeet will become civilized, but at a terrible cost. To me there is aninterest, profound and pathetic, in watching the progress of the struggle.

DAILY LIFE AND CUSTOMS

Indians are usually represented as being a silent, sullen race, seldomspeaking, and never laughing nor joking. However true this may be in regardto some tribes, it certainly was not the case with most of those who livedupon the great Plains. These people were generally talkative, merry, andlight-hearted; they delighted in fun, and were a race of jokers. It is truethat, in the presence of strangers, they were grave, silent, and reserved,but this is nothing more than the shyness and embarrassment felt by a childin the presence of strangers. As the Indian becomes acquainted, thisreserve wears off; he is at his ease again and appears in his true colors,a light-hearted child. Certainly the Blackfeet never were a taciturn andgloomy people. Before the disappearance of the buffalo, they were happy andcheerful. Why should they not have been? Food and clothing were to be hadfor the killing and tanning. All fur animals were abundant, and thus thepeople were rich. Meat, really the only food they cared for, was plenty andcost nothing. Their robes and furs were exchanged with the traders forbright-colored blankets and finery. So they wanted nothing.

It is but nine years since the buffalo disappeared from the land. Only nineyears have passed since these people gave up that wild, free life which wasnatural to them, and ah! how dear! Let us go back in memory to those happydays and see how they passed the time.

The sun is just rising. Thin columns of smoke are creeping from the smokeholes of the lodges, and ascending in the still morning air. Everywhere thewomen are busy, carrying water and wood, and preparing the simple meal.And now we see the men come out, and start for the river. Some arefollowed by their children; some are even carrying those too small towalk. They have reached the water's edge. Off drop their blankets, and witha plunge and a shivering ah-h-h they dash into the icy waters. Winter andsummer, storm or shine, this was their daily custom. They said it made themtough and healthy, and enabled them to endure the bitter cold while huntingon the bare bleak prairie. By the time they have returned to the lodges,the women have prepared the early meal. A dish of boiled meat—some threeor four pounds—is set before each man; the children are served as much asthey can eat, and the wives take the rest. The horses are now seen comingin, hundreds and thousands of them, driven by boys and young men whostarted out after them at daylight. If buffalo are close at hand, and ithas been decided to make a run, each hunter catches his favorite buffalohorse, and they all start out together; they are followed by women, on thetravois or pack horses, who will do most of the butchering, and transportthe meat and hides to camp. If there is no band of buffalo near by, they gooff, singly or by twos and threes, to still-hunt scattering buffalo, ordeer, or elk, or such other game as may be found. The women remaining incamp are not idle. All day long they tan robes, dry meat, sew moccasins,and perform a thousand and one other tasks. The young men who have stayedat home carefully comb and braid their hair, paint their faces, and, if theweather is pleasant, ride or walk around the camp so that the young womenmay look at them and see how pretty they are.

Feasting began early in the morning, and will be carried on far into thenight. A man who gives a feast has his wives cook the choicest food theyhave, and when all is ready, he goes outside the lodge and shouts theinvitation, calling out each guest's name three times, saying that he isinvited to eat, and concludes by announcing that a certain number ofpipes—generally three—will be smoked. The guests having assembled, eachone is served with a dish of food. Be the quantity large or small, it isall that he will get. If he does not eat it all, he may carry home whatremains. The host does not eat with his guests. He cuts up some tobacco,and carefully mixes it with l'herbe, and when all have finished eating,he fills and lights a pipe, which is smoked and passed from one to another,beginning with the first man on his left. When the last person on the leftof the host has smoked, the pipe is passed back around the circle to theone on the right of the door, and smoked to the left again. The guests donot all talk at once. When a person begins to speak, he expects every oneto listen, and is never interrupted. During the day the topics forconversation are about the hunting, war, stories of strange adventures,besides a good deal of good-natured joking and chaffing. When the third andlast pipeful of tobacco has been smoked, the host ostentatiously knocks outthe ashes and says "Kyi" whereupon all the guests rise and file out.Seldom a day passed but each lodge-owner in camp gave from one to threefeasts. In fact almost all a man did, when in camp, was to go from one ofthese gatherings to another.

A favorite pastime in the day was gambling with a small wheel calledit-se'-wah. This wheel was about four inches in diameter, and had fivespokes, on which were strung different-colored beads, made of bone orhorn. A level, smooth piece of ground was selected, at each end of whichwas placed a log. At each end of the course were two men, who gambledagainst each other. A crowd always surrounded them, betting on thesides. The wheel was rolled along the course, and each man at the endwhence it started, darted an arrow at it. The cast was made just beforethe wheel reached the log at the opposite end of the track, and points werecounted according as the arrow passed between the spokes, or when thewheel, stopped by the log, was in contact with the arrow, the position andnearness of the different beads to the arrow representing a certain numberof points. The player who first scored ten points won. It was a verydifficult game, and one had to be very skilful to win.

Another popular game was what with more southern tribes is called "hands";it is like "Button, button, who's got the button?" Two small, oblong boneswere used, one of which had a black ring around it. Those who participatedin this game, numbering from two to a dozen, were divided into two equalparties, ranged on either side of the lodge. Wagers were made, each personbetting with the one directly opposite him. Then a man took the bones, and,by skilfully moving his hands and changing the objects from one to theother, sought to make it impossible for the person opposite him to decidewhich hand held the marked one. Ten points were the game, counted bysticks, and the side which first got the number took the stakes. A songalways accompanied this game, a weird, unearthly air,—if it can be socalled,—but when heard at a little distance, very pleasant andsoothing. At first a scarcely audible murmur, like the gentle soughing ofan evening breeze, it gradually increased in volume and reached a very highpitch, sank quickly to a low bass sound, rose and fell, and gradually diedaway, to be again repeated. The person concealing the bones swayed hisbody, arms, and hands in time to the air, and went through all manner ofgraceful and intricate movements for the purpose of confusing theguesser. The stakes were sometimes very high, two or three horses or more,and men have been known to lose everything they possessed, even to theirclothing.

The children, at least the boys, played about and did as they pleased. Notso with the girls. Their duties began at a very early age. They carriedwood and water for their mothers, sewed moccasins, and as soon as they werestrong enough, were taught to tan robes and furs, make lodges, travois, anddo all other woman's—and so menial—work. The boys played at mimicwarfare, hunted around in the brush with their bows and arrows, made mudimages of animals, and in summer spent about half their time in thewater. In winter, they spun tops on the ice, slid down hill on acontrivance made of buffalo ribs, and hunted rabbits.

Shortly after noon, the hunters began to return, bringing in deer,antelope, buffalo, elk, occasionally bear, and, sometimes, beaver whichthey had trapped. The camp began to be more lively. In all directionspersons could be heard shouting out invitations to feasts. Here a man waslying back on his couch singing and drumming; there a group of young menwere holding a war dance; everywhere the people were eating, singing,talking, and joking. As the light faded from the western sky and darknessspread over the camp, the noise and laughter increased. In many lodges, thepeople held social dances, the women, dressed in their best gowns, rangedon one side, the men on the other; all sung, and three or four drummersfurnished an accompaniment; the music was lively if somewhat jerky. Atintervals the people rose and danced, the "step" being a bending of theknees and swinging of the body, the women holding their arms and hands invarious graceful positions.

With the night came the rehearsal of the wondrous doings of the gods. Thesetales may not be told in the daytime. Old Man would not like that, andwould cause any one who narrated them while it was light to becomeblind. All Indians are natural orators, but some far exceed others in theirpowers of expression. Their attitudes, gestures, and signs are sosuggestive that they alone would enable one to understand the stories theyrelate. I have seen these story-tellers so much in earnest, so entirelycarried away by the tale they were relating, that they fairly trembled withexcitement. They held their little audiences spell-bound. The womendropped their half-sewn moccasin from their listless hands, and the men letthe pipe go out. These stories for the most part were about the ancientgods and their miraculous doings. They were generally related by the oldmen, warriors who had seen their best days. Many of them are recorded inthis book. They are the explanations of the phenomena of life, and containmany a moral for the instruction of youth.

The I-k[)u]n-[)u]h'-kah-tsi contributed not a little to the entertainmentof every-day life. Frequent dances were held by the different bands of thesociety, and the whole camp always turned out to see them. The animal-headmasks, brightly painted bodies, and queer performances were dear to theIndian heart.

Such was the every-day life of the Blackfeet in the buffalo days. When thecamp moved, the women packed up their possessions, tore down the lodges,and loaded everything on the backs of the ponies or on thetravois. Meantime the chiefs had started on, and the soldiers—the Braveband of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi—followed after them. After these leadershad gone a short distance, a halt was made to allow the column to closeup. The women, children, horses, and dogs of the camp marched in adisorderly, straggling fashion, often strung out in a line a mile or twolong. Many of the men rode at a considerable distance ahead, and on eachside of the marching column, hunting for any game that might be found, orlooking over the country for signs of enemies.

Before the Blackfeet obtained horses in the very first years of the presentcentury, and when their only beasts of burden were dogs, their possessionswere transported by these animals or on men's backs. We may imagine thatin those days the journeys made were short ones, the camp travelling but afew miles.

In moving the camp in ancient days, the heaviest and bulkiest things to betransported were the lodges. These were sometimes very large, oftenconsisting of thirty cow-skins, and, when set up, containing two or threefires like this [Illustration:] or in ground plan like this[Illustration:]. The skins of these large lodges were sewn together instrips, of which there would be sometimes as many as four; and, when thelodge was set up, these strips were pinned together as the front of acommon lodge is pinned to-day. The dogs carried the provisions, tools, andutensils, sometimes the lodge strips, if these were small enough, oranything that was heavy, and yet could be packed in small compass; forsince dogs are small animals, and low standing, they cannot carry bulkyburdens. Still, some of the dogs were large enough to carry a load of onehundred pounds. Dogs also hauled the travois, on which were bundles andsometimes babies. This was not always a safe means of transportation forinfants, as is indicated by an incident related by John Monroe's mother ashaving occurred in her father's time. The camp, on foot of course, wascrossing a strip of open prairie lying between two pieces of timber, when aherd of buffalo, stampeding, rushed through the marching column. Theloaded dogs rushed after the buffalo, dragging the travois after them andscattering their loads over the prairie. Among the lost chattels were twobabies, dropped off somewhere in the long grass, which were never found.

There were certain special customs and beliefs which were a part of theevery-day life of the people.

In passing the pipe when smoking, it goes from the host, who takes thefirst smoke, to the left, passing from hand to hand to the door. It may notbe passed across the door to the man on the other side, but must comeback,—no one smoking,—pass the host, and go round to the man across thedoor from the last smoker. This man smokes and passes it to the one on hisleft, and so it goes on until it reaches the host again. A person enteringa lodge where people are smoking must not pass in front of them, that is,between the smokers and the fire.

A solemn form of affirmation, the equivalent of the civilized oath, isconnected with smoking, which, as is well known, is with many tribes ofIndians a sacred ceremony. If a man sitting in a lodge tells his companionssome very improbable story, something that they find it very hard tobelieve, and they want to test him, to see if he is really telling thetruth, the pipe is given to a medicine man, who paints the stem red andprays over it, asking that if the man's story is true he may have longlife, but if it is false his life may end in a short time. The pipe is thenfilled and lighted, and passed to the man, who has seen and overheard whathas been done and said. The medicine man says to him: "Accept this pipe,but remember that, if you smoke, your story must be as sure as that thereis a hole through this pipe, and as straight as the hole through thisstem. So your life shall be long and you shall survive, but if you havespoken falsely your days are counted." The man may refuse the pipe, saying,"I have told you the truth; it is useless to smoke this pipe." If hedeclines to smoke, no one believes what he has said; he is looked upon ashaving lied. If, however, he takes the pipe and smokes, every one believeshim. It is the most solemn form of oath. The Blackfoot pipes are usuallymade of black or green slate or sandstone.

The Blackfeet do not whip their children, but still they are not withoutsome training. Children must be taught, or they will not know anything; ifthey do not know anything, they will have no sense; and if they have nosense they will not know how to act. They are instructed in manners, aswell as in other more general and more important matters.

If a number of boys were in a lodge where older people were sitting, verylikely the young people would be talking and laughing about their ownconcerns, and making so much noise that the elders could say nothing. Ifthis continued too long, one of the older men would be likely to get up andgo out and get a long stick and bring it in with him. When he had seatedhimself, he would hold it up, so that the children could see it and wouldrepeat a cautionary formula, "I will give you gum!" This was a warning tothem to make less noise, and was always heeded—for a time. After a little,however, the boys might forget and begin to chatter again, and presentlythe man, without further warning, would reach over and rap one of them onthe head with the stick, when quiet would again be had for a time.

In the same way, in winter, when the lodge was full of old and youngpeople, and through lack of attention the fire died down, some older personwould call out, "Look out for the skunk!" which would be a warning to theboys to put some sticks on the fire. If this was not done at once, the manwho had called out might throw a stick of wood across the lodge into thegroup of children, hitting and hurting one or more of them. It was taughtalso that, if, when young and old were in the lodge and the fire had burnedlow, an older person were to lay the unburned ends of the sticks upon thefire, all the children in the lodge would have the scab, or itch. So, atthe call "Look out for the scab!" some child would always jump to the fire,and lay up the sticks.

There were various ways of teaching and training the children. Men wouldmake long speeches to groups of boys, playing in the camps, telling themwhat they ought to do to be successful in life. They would point out tothem that to accomplish anything they must be brave and untiring in war;that long life was not desirable; that the old people always had a hardtime, were given the worst side of the lodge and generally neglected; thatwhen the camp was moved they suffered from cold; that their sight was dim,so that they could not see far; that their teeth were gone, so that theycould not chew their food. Only discomfort and misery await the old. Muchbetter, while the body is strong and in its prime, while the sight isclear, the teeth sound, and the hair still black and long, to die in battlefighting bravely. The example of successful warriors would be held up tothem, and the boys urged to emulate their brave deeds. To such advice someboys would listen, while others would not heed it.

The girls also were instructed. All Indians like to see women more or lesssober and serious-minded, not giggling all the time, not silly. A Blackfootman who had two or three girls would, as they grew large, often talk tothem and give them good advice. After watching them, and taking the measureof their characters, he would one day get a buffalo's front foot andornament it fantastically with feathers. When the time came, he would callone of his daughters to him and say to her: "Now I wish you to stand herein front of me and look me straight in the eye without laughing. No matterwhat I may do, do not laugh." Then he would sing a funny song, shaking thefoot in the girl's face in time to the song, and looking her steadily inthe eye. Very likely before he had finished, she would begin to giggle. Ifshe did this, the father would stop singing and tell her to finishlaughing; and when she was serious again, he would again warn her not tolaugh, and then would repeat his song. This time perhaps she would notlaugh while he was singing. He would go through with this same performancebefore all his daughters. To such as seemed to have the steadiestcharacters, he would give good advice. He would talk to each girl of theduties of a woman's life and warn her against the dangers which she mightexpect to meet.

At the time of the Medicine Lodge, he would take her to the lodge and pointout to her the Medicine Lodge woman. He would say: "There is a goodwoman. She has built this Medicine Lodge, and is greatly honored andrespected by all the people. Once she was a girl just like you; and you, ifyou are good and live a pure life, may some day be as great as she isnow. Remember this, and try to live a worthy life."

At the time of the Medicine Lodge, the boys in the camp also gathered tosee the young men count their coups. A man would get up, holding in onehand a bundle of small sticks, and, taking one stick from the bundle, hewould recount some brave deed, throwing away a stick as he completed thenarrative of each coup, until the sticks were all gone, when he sat down,and another man stood up to begin his recital. As the boys saw and heardall this, and saw how respected those men were who had done the most andbravest things, they said to themselves, "That man was once a boy like us,and we, if we have strong hearts, may do as much as he has done." So eventhe very small boys used often to steal off from the camp, and follow warparties. Often they went without the knowledge of their parents, and poorlyprovided, without food or extra moccasins. They would get to the enemy'scamp, watch the ways of the young men, and so learn about going to war, howto act when on the war trail so as to be successful. Also they came to knowthe country.

The Blackfeet men often went off by themselves to fast and dream forpower. By no means every one did this, and, of those who attempted it, onlya few endured to the end,—that is, fasted the whole four days,—andobtained the help sought. The attempt was not usually made by young boysbefore they had gone on their first war journey. It was often undertaken bymen who were quite mature. Those who underwent this suffering were obligedto abstain from food or drink for four days and four nights, resting fortwo nights on the right side, and for two nights on the left. It was deemedessential that the place to which a man resorted for this purpose should beunfrequented, where few or no persons had walked; and it must also be aplace that tried the nerve, where there was some danger. Such situationswere mountain peaks; or narrow ledges on cut cliffs, where a carelessmovement might cause a man to fall to his death on the rocks below; orislands in lakes, which could only be reached by means of a raft, and wherethere was danger that a person might be seized and carried off by theS[=u]'-y[=e] t[)u]p'-pi, or Under Water People; or places where the deadhad been buried, and where there was much danger from ghosts. Or a manmight lie in a well-worn buffalo trail, where the animals were frequentlypassing, and so he might be trodden on by a travelling band of buffalo; orhe might choose a locality where bears were abundant and dangerous.Wherever he went, the man built himself a little lodge of brush, moss, andleaves, to keep off the rain; and, after making his prayers to the sun andsinging his sacred songs, he crept into the hut and began his fast. He wasnot allowed to take any covering with him, nor to roof over his shelterwith skins. He always had with him a pipe, and this lay by him, filled, sothat, when the spirit, or dream, came, it could smoke. They did not appealto any special class of helpers, but prayed to all alike. Often by the endof the fourth day, a secret helper—usually, but by no means always, in theform of some animal—appeared to the man in a dream, and talked with him,advising him, marking out his course through life, and giving him itspower. There were some, however, on whom the power would not work, and amuch greater number who gave up the fast, discouraged, before theprescribed time had been completed, either not being able to endure thelack of food and water, or being frightened by the strangeness orloneliness of their surroundings, or by something that they thought theysaw or heard. It was no disgrace to fail, nor was the failure necessarilyknown, for the seeker after power did not always, nor perhaps often, tellany one what he was going to do.

Three modes of burial were practised by the Blackfeet. They buried theirdead on platforms placed in trees, on platforms in lodges, and on theground in lodges. If a man dies in a lodge, it is never used again. Thepeople would be afraid of the man's ghost. The lodge is often used to wrapthe body in, or perhaps the man may be buried in it.

As soon as a person is dead, be it man, woman, or child, the body isimmediately prepared for burial, by the nearest female relations. Untilrecently, the corpse was wrapped in a number of robes, then in a lodgecovering, laced with rawhide ropes, and placed on a platform of lodgepoles, arranged on the branches of some convenient tree. Some times theouter wrapping—the lodge covering—was omitted. If the deceased was a man,his weapons, and often his medicine, were buried with him. With women a fewcooking utensils and implements for tanning robes were placed on thescaffolds. When a man was buried on a platform in a lodge, the platform wasusually suspended from the lodge poles.

Sometimes, when a great chief or noted warrior died, his lodge would bemoved some little distance from the camp, and set up in a patch ofbrush. It would be carefully pegged down all around, and stones piled onthe edges to make it additionally firm. For still greater security, a ropefastened to the lodge poles, where they come together at the smoke hole,came down, and was securely tied to a peg in the ground in the centre ofthe lodge, where the fireplace would ordinarily be. Then the beds were madeup all around the lodge, and on one of them was placed the corpse, lying asif asleep. The man's weapons, pipe, war clothing, and medicine were placednear him, and the door then closed. No one ever again entered such alodge. Outside the lodge, a number of his horses, often twenty or more,were killed, so that he might have plenty to ride on his journey to the SandHills, and to use after arriving there. If a man had a favorite horse, hemight order it to be killed at his grave, and his order was always carriedout. In ancient times, it is said, dogs were killed at the grave.

Women mourn for deceased relations by cutting their hair short. For theloss of a husband or son (but not a daughter), they not only cut theirhair, but often take off one or more joints of their fingers, and alwaysscarify the calves of their legs. Besides this, for a month or so, theydaily repair to some place near camp, generally a hill or little rise ofground, and there cry and lament, calling the name of the deceased over andover again. This may be called a chant or song, for there is a certain tuneto it. It is in a minor key and very doleful. Any one hearing it for thefirst time, even though wholly unacquainted with Indian customs, would atonce know that it was a mourning song, or at least was the utterance of onein deep distress. There is no fixed period for the length of time one mustmourn. Some keep up this daily lament for a few weeks only, and others muchlonger. I once came across an old wrinkled woman, who was crouched in thesage brush, crying and lamenting for some one, as if her heart wouldbreak. On inquiring if any one had lately died, I was told she was mourningfor a son she had lost more than twenty years before.

Men mourn by cutting a little of their hair, going without leggings, andfor the loss of a son, sometimes scarify their legs. This last, however, isnever done for the loss of a wife, daughter, or any relative except a son.

Many Blackfeet change their names every season. Whenever a Blackfoot countsa new coup, he is entitled to a new name. A Blackfoot will never tell hisname if he can avoid it. He believes that if he should speak his name, hewould be unfortunate in all his undertakings. It was considered a grossbreach of propriety for a man to meet his mother-in-law, and if by anymischance he did so, or what was worse, if he spoke to her, she demanded avery heavy payment, which he was obliged to make. The mother-in-law wasequally anxious to avoid meeting or speaking to her son-in-law.

HOW THE BLACKFOOT LIVED

The primitive clothing of the Blackfeet was made of the dressed skins ofcertain animals. Women seldom wore a head covering. Men, however, in wintergenerally used a cap made of the skin of some small animal, such as theantelope, wolf, badger, or coyote. As the skin from the head of theseanimals often formed part of the cap, the ears being left on, it made avery odd-looking head-dress. Sometimes a cap was made of the skin of somelarge bird, such as the sage-hen, duck, owl, or swan.

The ancient dress of the women was a shirt of cowskin, with long sleevestied at the wrist, a skirt reaching half-way from knees to ankles, andleggings tied above the knees, with sometimes a supporting string runningfrom the belt to the leggings. In more modern times, this was modified, anda woman's dress consisted of a gown or smock, reaching from the neck tobelow the knees. There were no sleeves, the armholes being provided withtop coverings, a sort of cape or flap, which reached to theelbows. Leggings were of course still worn. They reached to the knee, andwere generally made, as was the gown, of the tanned skins of elk, deer,sheep, or antelope. Moccasins for winter use were made of buffalo robe, andof tanned buffalo cowskin for summer wear. The latter were always made withparfleche soles, which greatly increased their durability, and were oftenornamented over the instep or toes with a three-pronged figure, worked inporcupine quills or beads, the three prongs representing, it is said, thethree divisions or tribes of the nation. The men wore a shirt, breech-clout,leggings which reached to the thighs, and moccasins. In winter both men andwomen wore a robe of tanned buffalo skin, and sometimes of beaver. Insummer a lighter robe was worn, made of cowskin or buckskin, from which thehair had been removed. Both sexes wore belts, which supported and confinedthe clothing, and to which were attached knife-sheaths and other usefularticles.

Necklaces and ear-rings were worn by all, and were made of shells, bone,wood, and the teeth and claws of animals. Elk tushes were highly prized,and were used for ornamenting women's dresses. A gown profusely decoratedwith them was worth two good horses. Eagle feathers were used by the men tomake head-dresses and to ornament shields and also weapons. Small bunchesof owl or grouse feathers were sometimes tied to the scalp locks. It isdoubtful if the women ever took particular care of their hair. The men,however, spent a great deal of time brushing, braiding, and ornamentingtheir scalp locks. Their hair was usually worn in two braids, one on eachside of the head. Less frequently, four braids were made, one behind and infront of each ear. Sometimes, the hair of the forehead was cut off square,and brushed straight up; and not infrequently it was made into a hugetopknot and wound with otter fur. Often a slender lock, wound with brasswire or braided, hung down from one side of the forehead over the face.

As a rule, the men are tall, straight, and well formed. Their features areregular, the eyes being large and well set, and the nose generallymoderately large, straight, and thin. Their chests are splendidlydeveloped. The women are quite tall for their sex, but, as a rule, not sogood-looking as the men. Their hands are large, coarse, and knotted by hardlabor; and they early become wrinkled and careworn. They generally havesplendid constitutions. I have known them to resume work a day afterchildbirth; and once, when travelling, I knew a woman to halt, give birth toa child, and catch up with the camp inside of four hours.

As a rule, children are hardy and vigorous. They are allowed to do about asthey please from the time they are able to walk. I have often seen themplaying in winter in the snow, and spinning tops on the ice, barefooted andhalf-naked. Under such conditions, those which have feeble constitutionssoon die. Only the hardiest reach maturity and old age.

It is said that very long ago the people made houses of mud, sticks, andstones. It is not known what was their size or shape, and no traces of themare known to have been found. For a very long time, the lodge seems to havebeen their only dwelling. In ancient times, before they had knives ofmetal, stones were used to hold down the edges of the lodge, to keep itfrom being blown away. These varied in size from six inches to a foot ormore in diameter. Everywhere on the prairie, one may now see circles ofthese stones, and, within these circles, the smaller ones, which surroundedthe fireplace. Some of them have lain so long that only the tops nowproject above the turf, and undoubtedly many of them are buried out ofsight.

Lodges were always made of tanned cowskin, nicely cut and sewn together, soas to form an almost perfect cone. At the top were two large flaps, calledears, which were kept extended or closed, according to the direction andstrength of the wind, to create a draft and keep the lodge free fromsmoke. The lodge covering was supported by light, straight pine or sprucepoles, about eighteen of which were required. Twelve cowskins made a lodgeabout fourteen feet in diameter at the base, and ten feet high. I haveheard of a modern one which contained forty skins. It was over thirty feetin diameter, and was so heavy that the skins were sewn in two pieces whichbuttoned together.

An average-sized dwelling of this kind contained eighteen skins and wasabout sixteen feet in diameter. The lower edge of the lodge proper wasfastened, by wooden pegs, to within an inch or two of the ground. Inside, alining, made of brightly painted cowskin, reached from the ground to aheight of five or six feet. An air space of the thickness of the lodgepoles—two or three inches—was thus left between the lining and the lodgecovering, and the cold air, rushing up through it from the outside, made adraft, which aided the ears in freeing the lodge of smoke. The door wasthree or four feet high and was covered by a flap of skin, which hung downon the outside. Thus made, with plenty of buffalo robes for seats andbedding, and a good stock of firewood, a lodge was very comfortable, evenin the coldest weather.

It was not uncommon to decorate the outside of the lodge with buffalo tailsand brightly painted pictures of animals. Inside, the space around waspartitioned off into couches, or seats, each about six feet in length. Atthe foot and head of every couch, a mat, made of straight, peeled willowtwigs, fastened side by side, was suspended on a tripod at an angle offorty-five degrees, so that between the couches spaces were left like aninverted V, making convenient places to store articles which were not inuse. The owner of the lodge always occupied the seat or couch at the backof the lodge, directly opposite the door-way, the places on his right beingoccupied by his wives and daughters; though sometimes a Blackfoot had somany wives that they occupied the whole lodge. The places on his left werereserved for his sons and visitors. When a visitor entered a lodge, he wasassigned a seat according to his rank,—the nearer to the host, the greaterthe honor.

Bows were generally made of ash wood, which grows east of the mountainstoward the Sand Hills. When for any reason they could not obtain ash, theyused the wood of the choke-cherry tree, but this had not strength norspring enough to be of much service. I have been told also that sometimesthey used hazle wood for bows.

Arrows were made of shoots of the sarvis berry wood, which was straight,very heavy, and not brittle. They were smoothed and straightened by a stoneimplement. The grooves were made by pushing the shafts through a rib orother flat bone in which had been made a hole, circular except for one ortwo projections on the inside. These projections worked out the groove. Theobject of these grooves is said to have been to allow the blood to flowfreely. Each man marked his arrows by painting them, or by some specialcombination of colored feathers. The arrow heads were of two kinds,—barbedslender points for war, and barbless for hunting. Knives were originallymade of stone, as were also war clubs, mauls, and some of the scrapers forfleshing and graining hides. Some of the flint knives were long, othersshort. A stick was fitted to them, forming a wooden handle. The handles ofmauls and war clubs were usually made of green sticks fitted as closely aspossible into a groove made in the stone, the whole being bound together bya covering of hide put on green, tightly fitted and strongly sewed. This,as it shrunk in drying, bound the different parts of the implement togetherin the strongest possible manner. Short, heavy spears were used, the pointsbeing of stone or bone, barbed.

I have heard no explanation among the Blackfeet of the origin of fire. Inancient times, it was obtained by means of fire sticks, as describedelsewhere. The starting of the spark with these sticks is said to have beenhard work. At almost their first meeting with the whites, they obtainedflints and steels, and learned how to use them.

In ancient times,—in the days of fire sticks and even later, within thememory of men now living,—fire used to be carried from place to place in a"fire horn." This was a buffalo horn slung by a string over the shoulderlike a powderhorn. The horn was lined with moist, rotten wood, and the openend had a wooden stopper or plug fitted to it. On leaving camp in themorning, the man who carried the horn took from the fire a small live coaland put it in the horn, and on this coal placed a piece of punk, and thenplugged up the horn with the stopper. The punk smouldered in this almostair-tight chamber, and, in the course of two or three hours, the man lookedat it, and if it was nearly consumed, put another piece of punk in thehorn. The first young men who reached the appointed camping ground wouldgather two or three large piles of wood in different places, and as soon assome one who carried a fire horn reached camp, he turned out his spark atone of these piles of wood, and a little blowing and nursing gave a blazewhich started the fire. The other fires were kindled from this first one,and when the women reached camp and had put the lodges up, they went tothese fires, and got coals with which to start those in their lodges. Thiscustom of borrowing coals persisted up to the last days of the buffalo, andindeed may even be noticed still.

The punk here mentioned is a fungus, which grows on the birch tree. TheIndians used to gather this in large quantities and dry it. It was veryabundant at the Touchwood Hills (whence the name) on Beaver Creek, atributary of the Saskatchewan from the south.

The Blackfeet made buckets, cups, basins, and dishes from the lining of thebuffalo's paunch. This was torn off in large pieces, and was stretched overa flattened willow or cherry hoop at the bottom and top. These hoops weresometimes inside and sometimes outside the bucket or dish. In the lattercase, the hoop at the bottom was often sewed to the paunch, which came downover it, double on the outside, the needle holes being pitched with gum ortallow. The hoop at the upper edge was also sewed to the paunch, and arawhide bail passed under it, to carry it by. These buckets were shapedsomewhat like our wooden ones, and were of different sizes, some of themholding four or five gallons. They were more or less flexible, and whencarried in a pack, they could be flattened down like a crush hat, and sotook up but little room. If set on the ground when full, they would standup for a while, but as they soon softened and fell down, they were usuallyhung up by the bail on a little tripod. Cups were made in the same way asbuckets, but on a smaller scale and without the bail. Of course, nothinghot could be placed in these vessels.

It is doubtful if the Blackfeet ever made any pottery or basket ware. They,however, made bowls and kettles of stone. There is an ancient children'ssong which consists of a series of questions asked an elk, and its repliesto the same. In one place, the questioner sings, "Elk, what is your bowl(or dish)?" and the elk answers, "Ok-wi-tok-so-ka," stone bowl. On thispoint, Wolf Calf, a very old man, states that in early days the Blackfeetsometimes boiled their meat in a stone bowl made out of a hard clayeyrock.[1] Choosing a fragment of the right size and shape, they would poundit with another heavier rock, dealing light blows until a hollow had beenmade in the top. This hollow was made deeper by pounding and grinding; andwhen it was deep enough, they put water in it, and set it on the fire, andthe water would boil. These pots were strong and would last a long time. Ido not remember that any other tribe of Plains Indians made such stonebowls or mortars, though, of course, they were commonly made, and insingular perfection, by the Pacific Coast tribes; and I have known of rarecases in which basalt mortars and small soapstone ollas have been found onthe central plateau of the continent in southern Wyoming. These articles,however, had no doubt been obtained by trade from Western tribes.

[Footnote 1: See The Blackfoot Genesis, p. 141.]

Serviceable ladles and spoons were made of wood and of buffalo and mountainsheep horn. Basins or flat dishes were sometimes made of mountain sheephorn, boiled, split, and flattened, and also of split buffalo horn, fittedand sewn together with sinew, making a flaring, saucer-shaped dish. Thesewere used as plates or eating dishes. Of course, they leaked a little, forthe joints were not tight. Wooden bowls and dishes were made from knots andprotuberances of trees, dug out and smoothed by fire and the knife or bythe latter alone.

It is not known that these people ever made spears, hooks, or otherimplements for capturing fish. They appear never to have used boats of anykind, not even "bull boats." Their highest idea of navigation was to lashtogether a few sticks or logs, on which to transport their possessionsacross a river.

Red, brown, yellow, and white paints were made by burning clays of thesecolors, which were then pulverized and mixed with a little grease. Blackpaint was made of charred wood.

Bags and sacks were made of parfleche, usually ornamented with buckskinfringe, and painted with various designs in bright colors. Figures havingsharp angles are most common.

The diet of the Blackfeet was more varied than one would think. Largequantities of sarvis berries (Amelanchier alnifolia) were gatheredwhenever there was a crop (which occurs every other year), dried, andstored for future use. These were gathered by women, who collected thebranches laden with ripe fruit, and beat them over a robe spread upon theground. Choke-cherries were also gathered when ripe, and pounded up, stonesand all. A bushel of the fruit, after being pounded up and dried, wasreduced to a very small quantity. This food was sometimes eaten by itself,but more often was used to flavor soups and to mix with pemmican. Bullberries (Shepherdia argentea) were a favorite fruit, and were gathered inlarge quantities, as was also the white berry of the red willow. This lastis an exceedingly bitter, acrid fruit, and to the taste of most white menwholly unpleasant and repugnant. The Blackfeet, however, are very fond ofit; perhaps because it contains some property necessary to the nourishmentof the body, which is lacking in their every-day food.

The camas root, which grows abundantly in certain localities on the eastslope of the Rockies, was also dug, cooked, and dried. The bulbs wereroasted in pits, as by the Indians on the west side of the Rocky Mountains,the Kalispels, and others. It is gathered while in the bloom—June 15 toJuly 15. A large pit is dug in which a hot fire is built, the bottom beingfirst lined with flat stones. After keeping up this fire for several hours,until the stones and earth are thoroughly heated, the coals and ashes areremoved. The pit is then lined with grass, and is filled almost to the topwith camas bulbs. Over these, grass is laid, then twigs, and then earth toa depth of four inches. On this a fire is built, which is kept up for fromone to three days, according to the quantity of the bulbs in the pit.

When the pit is opened, the small children gather about it to suck thesyrup, which has collected on the twigs and grass, and which is verysweet. The fresh-roasted camas tastes something like a roasted chestnut,with a little of the flavor of the sweet potato. After being cooked, theroots are spread out in the sun to dry, and are then put in sacks to bestored away. Sometimes a few are pounded up with sarvis berries, and dried.

Bitter-root is gathered, dried, and boiled with a little sugar. It is aslender root, an inch or two long and as thick as a goose quill, white incolor, and looking like short lengths of spaghetti. It is very starchy.

In the spring, a certain root called mats was eaten in greatquantities. This plant was known to the early French employees of theHudson's Bay and American Fur Companies as pomme blanche (Psoraleaesculenta).

All parts of such animals as the buffalo, elk, deer, etc., were eaten, saveonly the lungs, gall, and one or two other organs. A favorite way of eatingthe paunch or stomach was in the raw state. Liver, too, was sometimes eatenraw. The unborn calf of a fresh-killed animal, especially buffalo, wasconsidered a great delicacy. The meat of this, when boiled, is white,tasteless, and insipid. The small intestines of the buffalo were sometimesdried, but more often were stuffed with long, thin strips of meat. Duringthe stuffing process, the entrail was turned inside out, thus confiningwith the meat the sweet white fat that covers the intestine. The next stepwas to roast it a little, after which the ends were tied to prevent theescape of the juices, and it was thoroughly boiled in water. This is a verygreat delicacy, and when properly prepared is equally appreciated by whitesand Indians.

As a rule, there were but two ways of cooking meat,—boiling androasting. If roasted, it was thoroughly cooked; but if boiled, it was onlyleft in the water long enough to lose the red color, say five or tenminutes. Before they got kettles from the whites, the Blackfeet oftenboiled meat in a green hide. A hole was dug in the ground, and the skin,flesh side up, was laid in it, being supported about the edges of the holeby pegs. The meat and water having been placed in this hollow, red-hotstones were dropped in the water until it became hot and the meat wascooked.

In time of plenty, great quantities of dried meat were prepared for usewhen fresh meat could not be obtained. In making dried meat, the thickerparts of an animal were cut in large, thin sheets and hung in the sun todry. If the weather was not fine, the meat was often hung up on lines orscaffolds in the upper part of the lodge. When properly cured and if ofgood quality, the sheets were about one-fourth of an inch thick and verybrittle. The back fat of the buffalo was also dried, and eaten with themeat as we eat butter with bread. Pemmican was made of the flesh of thebuffalo. The meat was dried in the usual way; and, for this use, only leanmeat, such as the hams, loin, and shoulders, was chosen. When the time camefor making the pemmican, two large fires were built of dry quaking aspenwood, and these were allowed to burn down to red coals. The old womenbrought the dried meat to these fires, and the sheets of meat were thrownon the coals of one of them, allowed to heat through, turned to keep themfrom burning, and then thrown on the flesh side of a dry hide, that lay onthe ground near by. After a time, the roasting of this dried meat caused asmoke to rise from the fire in use, which gave the meat a bitter taste, ifcooked in it. They then turned to the other fire, and used that until thefirst one had burned clear again. After enough of the roasted meat had beenthrown on the hide, it was flailed out with sticks, and being very brittlewas easily broken up, and made small. It was constantly stirred and poundeduntil it was all fine. Meantime, the tallow of the buffalo had been meltedin a large kettle, and the pemmican bags prepared. These were made ofbull's hide, and were in two pieces, cut oblong, and with the cornersrounded off. Two such pieces sewed together made a bag which would hold onehundred pounds. The pounded meat and tallow—the latter just beginning tocool—were put in a trough made of bull's hide, a wooden spade being usedto stir the mixture. After it was thoroughly mixed, it was shovelled intoone of the sacks, held open, and rammed down and packed tight with a bigstick, every effort being made to expel all the air. When the bag was fulland packed as tight as possible, it was sewn up. It was then put on theground, and the women jumped on it to make it still more tight andsolid. It was then laid away in the sun to cool and dry. It usually tookthe meat of two cows to make a bag of one hundred pounds; a very large bullmight make a sack of from eighty to one hundred pounds.

A much finer grade of pemmican was made from the choicest parts of thebuffalo with marrow fat. To this dried berries and pounded choke-cherrieswere added, making a delicious food, which was extremelynutritious. Pemmican was eaten either dry as it came from the sack, orstewed with water.

In the spring, the people had great feasts of the eggs of ducks and otherwater-fowl. A large quantity having been gathered, a hole was dug in theground, and a little water put in it. At short intervals above the water,platforms of sticks were built, on which the eggs were laid. A smaller holewas dug at one side of the large hole, slanting into the bottom of it. Whenall was ready, the top of the larger hole was covered with mud, laid uponcross sticks, and red-hot stones were dropped into the slant, when theyrolled down into the water, heating it, and so cooking the eggs by steam.

Fish were seldom eaten by these people in early days, but now they seemvery fond of them. Turtles, frogs, and lizards are considered creatures ofevil, and are never eaten. Dogs, considered a great delicacy by the Crees,Gros Ventres, Sioux, Assinaboines, and other surrounding tribes, were nevereaten by the Blackfeet. No religious motive is assigned for thisabstinence. I once heard a Piegan say that it was wrong to eat dogs. "Theyare our true friends," he said. "Men say they are our friends and then turnagainst us, but our dogs are always true. They mourn when we are absent,and are always glad when we return. They keep watch for us in the nightwhen we sleep. So pity the poor dogs."

Snakes, grasshoppers, worms, and other insects were never eaten. Salt wasan unknown condiment. Many are now very fond of it, but I know a number,especially old people, who never eat it.

SOCIAL ORGANIZATION

The social organization of the Blackfeet is very simple. The three tribesacknowledged a blood relationship with each other, and, while distinct,still considered themselves a nation. In this confederation, it wasunderstood that there should be no war against each other. However, between1860 and 1870, when the whiskey trade was in its height, the three tribeswere several times at swords' points on account of drunken brawls. Once,about sixty or seventy years ago, the Bloods and Piegans had a quarrel soserious that men were killed on both sides and horses stolen; yet this washardly a real war, for only a part of each tribe was involved, and thetrouble was not of long duration.

Each one of the Blackfoot tribes is subdivided into gentes, a gens being abody of consanguineal kindred in the male line. It is noteworthy that theBlackfeet, although Algonquins, have this system of subdivision, and it maybe that among them the gentes are of comparatively recent date. No specialduties are assigned to any one gens, nor has any gens, so far as I know,any special "medicine" or "totem."

Below is a list of the gentes of each tribe.

BLACKFEET (Sik'-si-kau)

Gentes:

Puh-ksi-nah'-mah-yiks Flat Bows.

Mo-tah'-tos-iks Many Medicines.

Siks-in'-o-kaks Black Elks.

E'-mi-tah-pahk-sai-yiks Dogs Naked.

Sa'-yiks Liars.

Ai-sik'-stuk-iks Biters.

Tsin-ik-tsis'-tso-yiks Early Finished Eating.

Ap'-i-kai-yiks Skunks.

BLOODS (Kai'-nah)

Siksin'-o-kaks Black Elks.

Ah-kwo'-nis-tsists Many Lodge Poles.

Ap-ut'-o-si'kai-nah North Bloods.

Is-ts'-kai-nah Woods Bloods.

In-uhk!-so-yi-stam-iks Long Tail Lodge Poles.

Nit'-ik-skiks Lone Fighters.

Siks-ah'-pun-iks Blackblood.

Ah-kaik'-sum-iks

I-sis'-o-kas-im-iks Hair Shirts.

Ak-kai'-po-kaks Many Children.

Sak-si-nah'-mah-yiks Short Bows.

Ap'-i-kai-yiks Skunks.

Ahk-o'-tash-iks Many Horses.

PIEGANS (Pi-kun'-i)

Ah'-pai-tup-iks Blood People.

Ah-kai-yi-ko-ka'-kin-iks White Breasts.

Ki'yis Dried Meat.

Sik-ut'-si-pum-aiks Black Patched Moccasins.

Sik-o-pok'-si-maiks Blackfat Roasters.

Tsin-ik-sis'-tso-yiks Early Finished Eating.

Kut'-ai-im-iks They Don't Laugh.

I'-pok-si-maiks Fat Roasters.

Sik'-o-kit-sim-iks Black Doors.

Ni-taw'-yiks Lone Eaters.

Ap'-i-kai-yiks Skunks.

Mi-ah-wah'-pit-siks Seldom Lonesome.

Nit'-ak-os-kit-si-pup-iks Obstinate.

Nit'-ik-skiks Lone Fighters.

I-nuks'-iks Small Robes.

Mi-aw'-kin-ai-yiks Big Topknots.

Esk'-sin-ai-tup-iks Worm People.

I-nuk-si'-kah-ko-pwa-iks Small Brittle Fat.

Kah'-mi-taiks Buffalo Dung.

Kut-ai-sot'-si-man No Parfleche.

Ni-tot'-si-ksis-stan-iks Kill Close By.

Mo-twai'-naiks All Chiefs.

Mo-kum'-iks Red Round Robes.

Mo-tah'-tos-iks Many Medicines.

It will be readily seen from the translations of the above that each genstakes its name from some peculiarity or habit it is supposed to possess. Itwill also be noticed that each tribe has a few gentes common to one or bothof the other tribes. This is caused by persons leaving their own tribe tolive with another one, but, instead of uniting with some gens of theadopted tribe, they have preserved the name of their ancestral gens forthemselves and their descendants.

The Blackfoot terms of relationship will be found interesting. Theprincipal family names are as follows:—

My father Ni'-nah.

My mother Ni-kis'-ta.

My elder brother Nis'-ah

My younger brother Nis-kun'.

My older sister Nin'-sta.

My younger sister Ni-sis'-ah.

My uncle Nis'-ah.

My aunt Ni-kis'-ta.

My cousin, male Same as brother.

My cousin, female Same as sister.

My grandfather Na-ahks'.

My grandmother Na-ahks'.

My father-in-law Na-ahks'.

My mother-in-law Na-ahks'.

My son No-ko'-i.

My daughter Ni-tun'.

My son-in-law Nis'-ah.

My daughter-in-law Ni-tot'-o-ke-man.

My brother-in-law older than self Nis-tum-o'.

My brother-in-law younger than self Nis-tum-o'-kun.

My sister-in-law Ni-tot'-o-ke-man.

My second cousin Nimp'-sa.

My wife Nit-o-ke'-man.

My husband No'-ma.

As the members of a gens were all considered as relatives, however remote,there was a law prohibiting a man from marrying within his gens. Originallythis law was strictly enforced, but like many of the ancient customs it isno longer observed. Lately, within the last forty or fifty years, it hasbecome not uncommon for a man and his family, or even two or threefamilies, on account of some quarrel or some personal dislike of the chiefof their own gens, to leave it and join another band. Thus the gentes oftenreceived outsiders, who were not related by blood to the gens; and suchpeople or their descendants could marry within the gens. Ancestry became nolonger necessary to membership.

As a rule, before a young man could marry, he was required to have madesome successful expeditions to war against the enemy, thereby provinghimself a brave man, and at the same time acquiring a number of horses andother property, which would enable him to buy the woman of his choice, andafterwards to support her.

Marriages usually took place at the instance of the parents, though oftenthose of the young man were prompted by him. Sometimes the father of thegirl, if he desired to have a particular man for a son-in-law, wouldpropose to the father of the latter for the young man as a husband for hisdaughter.

The marriage in the old days was arranged after this wise: The chief of oneof the bands may have a marriageable daughter, and he may know of a youngman, the son of a chief of another band, who is a brave warrior, of goodcharacter, sober-minded, steadfast, and trustworthy, who he thinks willmake a good husband for his daughter and a good son-in-law. After he hasmade up his mind about this, he is very likely to call in a few of hisclose relations, the principal men among them, and state to them hisconclusions, so as to get their opinions about it. If nothing is said tochange his mind, he sends to the father of the boy a messenger to state hisown views, and ask how the father feels about the matter.

On receiving this word, the boy's father probably calls together his closerelations, discusses the matter with them, and, if the match issatisfactory to him, sends back word to that effect. When this message isreceived, the relations of the girl proceed to fit her out with the verybest that they can provide. If she is the daughter of well-to-do or wealthypeople, she already has many of the things that are needed, but what shemay lack is soon supplied. Her mother makes her a new cowskin lodge,complete, with new lodge poles, lining, and back rests. A chiefs daughterwould already have plenty of good clothing, but if the girl lacks anything,it is furnished. Her dress is made of antelope skin, white as snow, andperhaps ornamented with two or three hundred elk tushes. Her leggings areof deer skin, heavily beaded and nicely fringed, and often adorned withbells and brass buttons. Her summer blanket or sheet is an elk skin, welltanned, without the hair and with the dew-claws left on. Her moccasins areof deer skin, with parfleche soles and worked with porcupine quills. Themarriage takes place as soon as these things can be provided.

During the days which intervene between the proposal and the marriage, theyoung woman each day selects the choicest parts of the meat brought to thelodge,—the tongue, "boss ribs," some choice berry pemmican or whatnot,—cooks these things in the best style, and, either alone, or incompany with a young sister, or a young friend, goes over to the lodgewhere the young man lives, and places the food before him. He eats some ofit, little or much, and if he leaves anything, the girl offers it to hismother, who may eat of it. Then the girl takes the dishes and returns toher father's lodge. In this way she provides him with three meals a day,morning, noon, and night, until the marriage takes place. Every one in campwho sees the girl carrying the food in a covered dish to the young man'slodge, knows that a marriage is to take place; and the girl is watched byidle persons as she passes to and fro, so that the task is quite a tryingone for people as shy and bashful as Indians are. When the time for themarriage has come,—in other words, when the girl's parents are ready,—thegirl, her mother assisting her, packs the new lodge and her own things onthe horses, and moves out into the middle of the circle—about which allthe lodges of the tribe are arranged—and there the new lodge is unpackedand set up. In front of the lodge are tied, let us say, fifteen horses, thegirl's dowry given by her father. Very likely, too, the father has sentover to the young man his own war clothing and arms, a lance, a fineshield, a bow and arrows in otter-skin case, his war bonnet, war shirt, andwar leggings ornamented with scalps,—his complete equipment. This is setup on a tripod in front of the lodge. The gift of these things is anevidence of the great respect felt by the girl's father for hisson-in-law. As soon as the young man has seen the preparations being madefor setting up the girl's lodge in the centre of the circle, he sends overto his father-in-law's lodge just twice the number of horses that the girlbrought with her,—in this supposed case, thirty.

As soon as this lodge is set up, and the girl's mother has taken herdeparture and gone back to her own lodge, the young man, who, until he sawthese preparations, had no knowledge of when the marriage was to takeplace, leaves his father's lodge, and, going over to the newly erected one,enters and takes his place at the back of it. Probably during the day hewill order his wife to take down the lodge, and either move away from thecamp, or at least move into the circle of lodges; for he will not want toremain with his young wife in the most conspicuous place in the camp.Often, on the same day, he will send for six or eight of his friends, and,after feasting them, will announce his intention of going to war, and willstart off the same night. If he does so, and is successful, returning withhorses or scalps, or both, he at once, on arrival at the camp, proceeds tohis father-in-law's lodge and leaves there everything he has brought back,returning to his own lodge on foot, as poor as he left it.

We have supposed the proposal in this case to come from the father of thegirl, but if a boy desires a particular girl for his wife, the proposalwill come from his father; otherwise matters are managed in the same way.

This ceremony of moving into the middle of the circle was only performed inthe case of important people. The custom was observed in what might becalled a fashionable wedding among the Blackfeet. Poorer, less importantpeople married more quietly. If the girl had reached marriageable agewithout having been asked for as a wife, she might tell her mother that shewould like to marry a certain young man, that he was a man she could loveand respect. The mother communicates this to the father of the girl, whoinvites the young man to the lodge to a feast, and proposes the match. Theyoung man returns no answer at the time, but, going back to his father'slodge, tells him of the offer, and expresses his feelings about it. If heis inclined to accept, the relations are summoned, and the matter talkedover. A favorable answer being returned, a certain number of horses—whatthe young man or his father, or both together, can spare—are sent over tothe girl's father. They send as many as they can, for the more they send,the more they are thought of and looked up to. The girl, unless her parentsare very poor, has her outfit, a saddle horse and pack horse with saddleand pack saddle, parfleches, etc. If the people are very poor, she mayhave only a riding horse. Her relations get together, and do all in theirpower to give her a good fitting out, and the father, if he can possibly doso, is sure to pay them back what they have given. If he cannot do so, thethings are still presented; for, in the case of a marriage, the relationson both sides are anxious to do all that they can to give the young peoplea good start in life. When all is ready, the girl goes to the lodge whereher husband lives, and goes in. If this lodge is too crowded to receive thecouple, the young man will make arrangements for space in the lodge of abrother, cousin, or uncle, where there is more room. These are all hisclose relations, and he is welcome in any of their lodges, and has rightsthere.

Sometimes, if two young people are fond of each other, and there is noprospect of their being married, they may take riding horses and a packhorse, and elope at night, going to some other camp for a while. This makesthe girl's father angry, for he feels that he has been defrauded of hispayments. The young man knows that his father-in-law bears him a grudge,and if he afterwards goes to war and is successful, returning with six orseven horses, he will send them all to the camp where his father-in-lawlives, to be tied in front of his lodge. This at once heals the breach, andthe couple may return. Even if he has not been successful in war andbrought horses, which of course he does not always accomplish, he from timeto time sends the old man a present, the best he can. Notwithstanding theseefforts at conciliation, the parents feel very bitterly against him. Thegirl has been stolen. The union is no marriage at all. The old people areashamed and disgraced for their daughter. Until the father has beenpacified by satisfactory payments, there is no marriage. Moreover, unlessthe young man had made a payment, or at least had endeavored to do so, hewould be little thought of among his fellows, and looked down on as a poorcreature without any sense of honor.

The Blackfeet take as many wives as they wish; but these ceremonies areonly carried out in the case of the first wife, the "sits-beside-him"woman. In the case of subsequent marriages, if the man had proved a good,kind husband to his first wife, other men, who thought a good deal of theirdaughters, might propose to give them to him, so that they would be welltreated. The man sent over the horses to the new father-in-law's lodge, andthe girl returned to his, bringing her things with her. Or if the man saw agirl he liked, he would propose for her to her father.

Among the Blackfeet, there was apparently no form of courtship, such asprevails among our southern Indians. Young men seldom spoke to young girlswho were not relations, and the girls were carefully guarded. They neverwent out of the lodge after dark, and never went out during the day, exceptwith the mother or some other old woman. The girl, therefore, had verylittle choice in the selection of a husband. If a girl was told she mustmarry a certain man, she had to obey. She might cry, but her father's willwas law, and she might be beaten or even killed by him, if she did not doas she was ordered. As a consequence of this severity, suicide was quitecommon among the Blackfoot girls. A girl ordered to marry a man whom shedid not like would often watch her chance, and go out in the brush and hangherself. The girl who could not marry the man she wanted to was likely todo the same thing.

The man had absolute power over his wife. Her life was in his hands, and ifhe had made a payment for her, he could do with her about as he pleased. Onthe whole, however, women who behaved themselves were well treated andreceived a good deal of consideration. Those who were light-headed, orfoolish, or obstinate and stubborn were sometimes badly beaten. Those whowere unfaithful to their husbands usually had their noses or ears, or both,cut off for the first offence, and were killed either by the husband orsome relation, or by the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi for the second. Many of thedoctors of the highest reputation in the tribe were women. It is a commonbelief among some of those who have investigated the subject that the wifein Indian marriage was actually purchased, and became the absolute propertyof her husband. Though I have a great respect for some of the opinionswhich have been expressed on this subject, I am obliged to take an entirelydifferent view of the matter. I have talked this subject over many timeswith young men and old men of a number of tribes, and I cannot learn fromthem, or in any other way, that in primitive times the woman was purchasedfrom her father. The husband did not have property rights in his wife. Shewas not a chattel that he could trade away. He had all personal rights,could beat his wife, or, for cause, kill her, but he could not sell her toanother man.

All the younger sisters of a man's wife were regarded as his potentialwives. If he was not disposed to marry them, they could not be disposed ofto any other man without his consent.

Not infrequently, a man having a marriageable daughter formally gave her tosome young man who had proved himself brave in war, successful in takinghorses, and, above all, of a generous disposition. This was most often doneby men who had no sons to support them in their old age.

It is said that in the old days, before they had horses, young men did notexpect to marry until they had almost reached middle life,—fromthirty-five to forty years of age. This statement is made by Wolf Calf,who is now very old, almost one hundred years, he believes, and canremember back nearly or quite to the time when the Blackfeet obtained theirfirst horses. In those days, young women did not marry until they weregrown up, while of late years fathers not infrequently sell their daughtersas wives when they are only children.

The first woman a man marries is called his sits-beside-him wife. She isinvested with authority over all the other wives, and does little except todirect the others in their work, and look after the comfort of herhusband. Her place in the lodge is on his right-hand side, while the othershave their places or seats near the door-way. This wife is even allowed atinformal gatherings to take a whiff at the pipe, as it is passed around thecircle, and to participate in the conversation.

In the old days, it was a very poor man who did not have three wives. Manyhad six, eight, and some more than a dozen. I have heard of one who hadsixteen. In those times, provided a man had a good-sized band of horses,the more wives he had, the richer he was. He could always find young men tohunt for him, if he furnished the mounts, and, of course, the more wives hehad, the more robes and furs they would tan for him.

If, for any cause, a man wished to divorce himself from a woman, he had butto send her back to her parents and demand the price paid for her, and thematter was accomplished. The woman was then free to marry again, providedher parents were willing.

When a man dies, his wives become the potential wives of his oldestbrother. Unless, during his life, he has given them outright horses andother property, at his death they are entitled to none of hispossessions. If he has sons, the property is divided among them, except afew horses, which are given to his brothers. If he has no sons, all theproperty goes to his brothers, and if there are no brothers, it goes to thenearest male relatives on the father's side.

The Blackfeet cannot be said to have been slave-holders. It is true thatthe Crees call the Blackfeet women "Little Slaves." But this, as elsewheresuggested, may refer to the region whence they originally came, though itis often explained that it is on account of the manner in which theBlackfeet treat their women, killing them or mutilating their features foradultery and other serious offences. Although a woman, all her life, wassubject to some one's orders, either parent, relative, or husband, a manfrom his earliest childhood was free and independent. His father would notpunish him for any misconduct, his mother dared not. At an early age he wastaught to ride and shoot, and horses were given to him. By the time he wastwelve, he had probably been on a war expedition or two. As a rule inlater times, young men married when they were seventeen or eighteen yearsof age; and often they resided for several years with their fathers, untilthe family became so large that there was not room for them all in thelodge.

There were always in the camp a number of boys, orphans, who became theservants of wealthy men for a consideration; that is, they looked aftertheir patron's horses and hunted, and in return they were provided withsuitable food and clothing.

Among the Blackfeet, all men were free and equal, and office was nothereditary. Formerly each gens was governed by a chief, who was entitled tohis office by virtue of his bravery and generosity. The head chief waschosen by the chiefs of the gentes from their own number, and was usuallythe one who could show the best record in war, as proved at the MedicineLodge,[1] at which time he was elected; and for the ensuing year he wasinvested with the supreme power. But no matter how brave a man might havebeen, or how successful in war, he could not hope to be the chief either ofa gens or of the tribe, unless he was kind-hearted, and willing to sharehis prosperity with the poor. For this reason, a chief was never a wealthyman, for what he acquired with one hand he gave away with the other. It washe who decided when the people should move camp, and where they shouldgo. But in this, as in all other important affairs, he generally asked theadvice of the minor chiefs.

[Footnote 1: See chapter on Religion.]

The I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi (All Comrades) were directly under the authority ofthe head chief, and when any one was to be punished, or anything else wasto be done which came within their province as the tribal police, it was hewho issued the orders. The following were the crimes which the Blackfeetconsidered sufficiently serious to merit punishment, and the penaltieswhich attached to them.

Murder: A life for a life, or a heavy payment by the murderer or hisrelatives at the option of the murdered man's relatives. This payment wasoften so heavy as absolutely to strip the murderer of all property.

Theft: Simply the restoration of the property.

Adultery: For the first offence the husband generally cut off the offendingwife's nose or ears; for the second offence she was killed by the AllComrades. Often the woman, if her husband complained of her, would bekilled by her brothers or first cousins, and this was more usual than deathat the hands of the All Comrades. However, the husband could have her putto death for the first offence, if he chose.

Treachery (that is, when a member of the tribe went over to the enemy orgave them any aid whatever): Death at sight.

Cowardice: A man who would not fight was obliged to wear woman's dress, andwas not allowed to marry.

If a man left camp to hunt buffalo by himself, thereby driving away thegame, the All Comrades were sent after him, and not only brought him backby main force, but often whipped him, tore his lodge to shreds, broke histravois, and often took away his store of dried meat, pemmican, and otherfood.

The tradition of the origin of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi has elsewhere beengiven. This association of the All Comrades consisted of a dozen or moresecret societies, graded according to age, the whole constituting anassociation which was in part benevolent and helpful, and in part military,but whose main function was to punish offences against society at large. Allthese societies were really law and order associations. TheM[)u]t'-s[)i]ks, or Braves, was the chief society, but the others helpedthe Braves.

A number of the societies which made up the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi have beenabandoned in recent years, but several of them still exist. Among thePi-kun'-i, the list—so far as I have it—is as follows, the societiesbeing named in order from those of boyhood to old age:—

SOCIETIES OF THE ALL COMRADES

Ts[)i]-st[=i]ks', Little Birds, includes boys from
15 to 20 years old.

K[)u]k-k[=u][=i]cks', Pigeons, men who have been to war
several times.

T[)u]is-k[)i]s-t[=i]ks, Mosquitoes, men who are constantly
going to war

M[)u]t'-s[)i]ks, Braves, tried warriors.

Kn[)a]ts-o-mi'-ta, All Crazy Dogs, about forty years old.

Ma-stoh'-pa-ta-k[=i]ks Raven Bearers.

E'-mi-taks, Dogs, old men.
Dogs and Tails are
different societies,
Is'-sui, Tails, but they dress alike
and dance together
and alike.

[)E]ts-[=a]i'-nah, Horns, Bloods, obsolete among the
Piegans,
Sin'-o-pah, Kit-foxes, Piegans, but still exists
with Bloods.

[)E]-[)i]n'-a-ke, Catchers or Soldiers, obsolete for 25-30 years, perhaps longer.

St[)u]'m[=i]ks, Bulls, obsolete for 50 years.

There may be other societies of the All Comrades, but these are the onlyones that I know of at present. The M[=u]t'-s[)i]ks, Braves, and theKnats-o-mi'-ta, All Crazy Dogs, still exist, but many of the others arebeing forgotten. Since the necessity for their existence has passed, theyare no longer kept up. They were a part of the old wild life, and when thebuffalo disappeared, and the Blackfeet came to live about an agency, and totry to work for a subsistence, the societies soon lost their importance.The societies known as Little Birds, Mosquitoes, and Doves are not reallybands of the All Comrades, but are societies among the boys and young menin imitation of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi, but of comparatively recentorigin. Men not more than fifty years old can remember when these societiescame into existence. Of all the societies of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi, theSin'-o-pah, or Kit-fox band, has the strongest medicine. This correspondsto the Horns society among the Bloods. They are the same band withdifferent names. They have certain peculiar secret and sacred ceremonies,not to be described here.

The society of the Stum'-[=i]ks, or Bulls, became obsolete more than fiftyyears ago. Their dress was very fine,—bulls' heads and robes.

The members of the younger society purchased individually, from the nextolder one, its rights and privileges, paying horses for them. For example,each member of the Mosquitoes would purchase from some member of the Braveshis right of membership in the latter society. The man who has sold hisrights is then a member of no society, and if he wishes to belong to one,must buy into the one next higher. Each of these societies kept some oldmen as members, and these old men acted as messengers, orators, and so on.

The change of membership from one society to another was made in thespring, after the grass had started. Two, three, or more lodge coveringswere stretched over poles, making one very large lodge, and in this theceremonies accompanying the changes took place.

In later times, the Braves were the most important and best known of any ofthe All Comrades societies. The members of this band were soldiers orpolice. They were the constables of the camp, and it was their duty topreserve order, and to punish offenders. Sometimes young men would skylarkin camp at night, making a great noise when people wanted to sleep, andwould play rough practical jokes, that were not at all relished by thosewho suffered from them. One of the forms which their high spirits took wasto lead and push a young colt up to the door of a lodge, after people wereasleep, and then, lifting the door, to shove the animal inside and closethe door again. Of course the colt, in its efforts to get out to itsmother, would run round and round the lodge, trampling over the sleepersand roughly awakening them, knocking things down and creating the utmostconfusion, while the mare would be whinnying outside the lodge, and thepeople within, bewildered and confused, did not know what the disturbancewas all about.

The Braves would punish the young men who did such things,—if they couldcatch them,—tearing up their blankets, taking away their property, andsometimes whipping them severely. They were the peace officers of the camp,like the lari p[=u]k'[=u]s among the Pawnees.

Among the property of the Brave society were two stone-pointed arrows, one"shield you don't sit down with," and one rattle. The man who carried thisrattle was known as Brave Dog, and if it passed from one member of thesociety to another, the new owner became known as Brave Dog. The man whor*ceived the shield could not sit down for the next four days and fournights, but for all that time was obliged to run about the camp, or overthe prairie, whistling like a rabbit.

The societies known as Soldiers and Bulls had passed out of existencebefore the time of men now of middle age. The pipe of the Soldier societyis still in existence, in the hands of Double Runner. The bull's head warbonnet, which was the insignia of the Bulls society, was formerly in thepossession of Young Bear Chief, at present chief of the Don't Laugh band ofthe Piegans. He gave it to White Calf, who presented it to a recent agent.

In the old days, and, indeed, down to the time of the disappearance of thebuffalo, the camp was always arranged in the form of a circle, the lodgesstanding at intervals around the circumference, and in the wide inner spacethere was another circle of lodges occupied by the chief of certain bandsof the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi. When all the gentes of the tribe were present,each had its special position in the circle, and always occupied it. Thelodge of the chief of the gens stood just within the circle, and about ithis people camped. The order indicated in the accompanying diagramrepresents the Piegan camp as it used to stand thirty-five or forty yearsago. A number of the gentes are now extinct, and it is not altogethercertain just what the position of those should be; for while all the oldermen agree on the position to be assigned to certain of the gentes, thereare others about which there are differences of opinion or muchuncertainty. It is stated that the gentes known as Seldom Lonesome, DriedMeat, and No Parfleche belong to that section of the tribe known as NorthPiegans, which, at the time of the first treaty, separated from thePi-kun'-i, and elected to live under British rule.

The lodges of the chiefs of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi which were within thecircle served as lounging and eating places for such members of the bandsas were on duty, and were council lodges or places for idling, as theoccasion demanded.

When the camp moved, the Blood gens moved first and was followed by theWhite Breast gens, and so on around the circle to number 24. On camping,the Bloods camped first, and the others after them in the order indicated,number 24 camping last and closing up the circle. DIAGRAM OF OLD-TIMEPIEGAN CAMP, SAY 1850 TO 1855. TWENTY-FOUR LODGES OF CHIEFS OF THE GENTESABOUT THE OUTER CIRCLE.

The inner circle shows lodges of chiefs of certain bands of theI-kun-uh'-kah-tsi.

[Illustration]

GENTES OF THE PI-KUN'-I

1. Blood People. 2. White Breasts. 3. Dried Meat. 4. Black Patched Moccasins. 5. Black Fat Roasters. 6. Early Finished Eating. 7. Don't Laugh. 8. Fat Roasters. 9. Black Doors.10. Lone Eaters.11. Skunks.12. Seldom Lonesome.13. Obstinate.14. Lone Fighters.15. Small Robes.16. Big Topknots.17. Worm People.18. Small Brittle Fat.19. Buffalo Dung.20. No Parfleche.21. Kill Close Bye22. All Chiefs.23. Red Round Robes.24. Many Medicines.

BANDS OF THE I-KUN-UH'-KAH-TSI

a. All Crazy Dogs.b. Dogs.c. Tails.d. Kit-foxes.e. Raven Bearers.f. Braves.g. Mosquitoes.h. Soldiers.i. Doves.

HUNTING

The Blackfoot country probably contained more game and in greater varietythan any other part of the continent. Theirs was a land whose physicalcharacteristics presented sharp contrasts. There were far-stretching grassyprairies, affording rich pasturage for the buffalo and the antelope; roughbreaks and bad lands for the climbing mountain sheep; wooded buttes, lovedby the mule deer; timbered river bottoms, where the white-tailed deer andthe elk could browse and hide; narrow, swampy valleys for the moose; andsnow-patched, glittering pinnacles of rock, over which the sure-footedwhite goat took his deliberate way. The climate varied from arid to humid;the game of the prairie, the timber, and the rocks, found places suited totheir habits. Fur-bearing animals abounded. Noisy hordes of wild fowlpassed north and south in their migrations, and many stopped here to breed.

The Blackfoot country is especially favored by the warm chinook winds,which insure mild winters with but little snow; and although on the plainsthere is usually little rain in summer, the short prairie grasses are sweetand rich. All over this vast domain, the buffalo were found in countlessherds. Elk, deer, antelope, mountain sheep, and bear without number werethere. In those days, sheep were to be found on every ridge, and along therough bad lands far from the mountains. Now, except a few in the "breaks"of the Missouri, they occur only on the highest and most inaccessiblemountains, along with the white goats, which, although pre-eminentlymountain animals, were in early days sometimes found far out on theprairie.

BUFFALO

The Blackfeet were a race of meat-eaters, and, while they killed largequantities of other game, they still depended for subsistence on thebuffalo. This animal provided them with almost all that they needed in theway of food, clothing, and shelter, and when they had an abundance of thebuffalo they lived in comfort.

Almost every part of the beast was utilized. The skin, dressed with thehair on, protected them from the winter's cold; freed from the hair, it wasused for a summer sheet or blanket, for moccasins, leggings, shirts, andwomen's dresses. The tanned cowskins made their lodges, the warmest andmost comfortable portable shelters ever devised. From the rawhide, the hairhaving been shaved off, were made parfleches, or trunks, in which to packsmall articles. The tough, thick hide of the bull's neck, spread out andallowed to shrink smooth, made a shield for war which would stop an arrow,and turn a lance thrust or the ball from an old-fashioned, smooth-boregun. The green hide served as a kettle, in which to boil meat. The skin ofthe hind leg, cut off above the pastern and again some distance above thehock, was sometimes used as a moccasin or boot, the lower opening beingsewed up for the toe. A variety of small articles, such as cradles, guncovers, whips, mittens, quivers, bow cases, knife-sheaths, etc., were madefrom the hide. Braided strands of hide furnished them with ropes andlines. The hair was used to stuff cushions and, later, saddles, and partsof the long black flowing beard to ornament wearing apparel and implementsof war, such as shields and quivers. The horns gave them spoons andladles—sometimes used as small dishes—and ornamented their warbonnets. From the hoofs they made a glue, which they used in fastening theheads and feathers on their arrows, and the sinew backs on their bows. Thesinews which lie along the back and on the belly were used as thread andstring, and as backing for bows to give them elasticity and strength. Fromthe ribs were made scrapers used in dressing hides, and runners for smallsledges drawn by dogs; and they were employed by the children in coastingdown hill on snow or ice. The shoulder-blades, lashed to a wooden handle,formed axes, hoes, and fleshers. From the cannon bones (metatarsals andmetacarpals) were made scrapers for dressing hides. The skin of the tail,fitted on a stick, was used as a fly brush. These are but a few of the usesto which the product of the buffalo was put. As has been said, almost everypart of the flesh was eaten.

Now it must be remembered that in early days the hunting weapons of thispeople consisted only of stone-pointed arrows, and with such armament thecapture of game of the larger sorts must have been a matter of someuncertainty. To drive a rude stone-headed arrow through the tough hide andinto the vitals of the buffalo, could not have been—even under the mostfavorable circ*mstances—other than a difficult matter; and although we mayassume that, in those days, it was easy to steal up to within a few yardsof the unsuspicious animals, we can readily conceive that many arrows musthave been shot without effect, for one that brought down the game.

Certain ingenious methods were therefore devised to insure the taking ofgame in large numbers at one time. This was especially the case with thebuffalo, which were the food and raiment of the people. One of thesecontrivances was called pis'kun, deep-kettle; or, since the termination ofthe word seems to indicate the last syllable of the word ah'-pun, blood,it is more likely deep-blood-kettle. This was a large corral, or enclosure,built out from the foot of a perpendicular cliff or bluff, and formed ofnatural banks, rocks, and logs or brush,—anything in fact to make a close,high barrier. In some places the enclosure might be only a fence of brush,but even here the buffalo did not break it down, for they did not pushagainst it, but ran round and round within, looking for a clear spacethrough which they might pass. From the top of the bluff, directly overthe pis'kun, two long lines of rock piles and brush extended far out on theprairie, ever diverging from each other like the arms of the letter V, theopening over the pis'kun being at the angle.

In the evening of the day preceding a drive of buffalo into the pis'kun amedicine man, usually one who was the possessor of a buffalo rock,In-is'-kim, unrolled his pipe, and prayed to the Sun for success. Nextmorning the man who was to call the buffalo arose very early, and told hiswives that they must not leave the lodge, nor even look out, until hereturned; that they should keep burning sweet grass, and should pray to theSun for his success and safety. Without eating or drinking, he then went upon the prairie, and the people followed him, and concealed themselvesbehind the rocks and bushes which formed the V, or chute. The medicine manput on a head-dress made of the head of a buffalo, and a robe, and thenstarted out to approach the animals. When he had come near to the herd, hemoved about until he had attracted the attention of some of the buffalo,and when they began to look at him, he walked slowly away toward theentrance of the chute. Usually the buffalo followed, and, as they did so,he gradually increased his pace. The buffalo followed more rapidly, and theman continually went a little faster. Finally, when the buffalo were fairlywithin the chute, the people began to rise up from behind the rock pileswhich the herd had passed, and to shout and wave their robes. Thisfrightened the hinder-most buffalo, which pushed forward on the others, andbefore long the whole herd was running at headlong speed toward theprecipice, the rock piles directing them to the point over theenclosure. When they reached it, most of the animals were pushed over, andusually even the last of the band plunged blindly down into thepis'kun. Many were killed outright by the fall; others had broken legs orbroken backs, while some perhaps were uninjured. The barricade, however,prevented them from escaping, and all were soon killed by the arrows of theIndians.

It is said that there was another way to get the buffalo into this chute. Aman who was very skilful in arousing the buffalo's curiosity, might go outwithout disguise, and by wheeling round and round in front of the herd,appearing and disappearing, would induce them to move toward him, when itwas easy to entice them into the chute. Once there, the people began torise up behind them, shouting and waving their robes, and the nowterror-stricken animals rushed ahead, and were driven over the cliff intothe pis'kun, where all were quickly killed and divided among the people,the chiefs and the leading warrior getting the best and fattest animals.

The pis'kun was in use up to within thirty-five or forty years, and manymen are still living who have seen the buffalo driven over the cliff. Suchmen even now speak with enthusiasm of the plenty that successful drivesbrought to the camp.

The pis'kuns of the Sik'-si-kau, or Blackfoot tribe, differed in someparticulars from those constructed by the Bloods and the Piegans, who livefurther to the south, nearer to the mountains, and so in a country which isrougher and more broken. The Sik'-si-kau built their pis'kuns like theCrees, on level ground and usually near timber. A large pen or corral wasmade of heavy logs about eight feet high. On the side where the wings ofthe chute come together, a bridge, or causeway, was built, sloping gentlyup from the prairie to the walls of the corral, which at this point werecut away to the height of the bridge above the ground,—here aboutfour feet,—so that the animals running up the causeway could jump down intothe corral. The causeway was fenced in on either side by logs, so that thebuffalo could not run off it. After they had been lured within the wings ofthe chute, they were driven toward the corral as already described. Whenthey reached the end of the >, they ran up the bridge, and jumped down intothe pen. When it was full, or all had entered, Indians, who had lain hiddennear by, ran upon the bridge, and placed poles, prepared beforehand, acrossthe opening through which the animals had entered, and over these poleshung robes, so as entirely to close the opening. The buffalo will not dashthemselves against a barrier which is entirely closed, even though it bevery frail; but if they can see through it to the outside, they will rushagainst it, and their great weight and strength make it easy for them tobreak down any but a heavy wall. Mr. Hugh Monroe tells me that he has seena pis'kun built of willow brush; and the Cheyennes have stated to me thattheir buffalo corrals were often built of brush. Sometimes, if the walls ofthe pis'kun were not high, the buffalo tried to jump or climb over them,and, in doing this, might break them down, and some or all escape. As soon,however, as the animals were in the corral, the people—women and childrenincluded—ran up and showed themselves all about the walls, and by theircries kept the buffalo from pressing against the walls. The animals ranround and round within, and the men standing on the walls shot them down asthey passed. The butchering was done in the pis'kun, and after this wasover, the place was cleaned out, the heads, feet, and least perishableoffal being removed. Wolves, foxes, badgers, and other small carnivorousanimals visited the pis'kun, and soon made away with the entrails.

In winter, when the snow was on the ground, and the buffalo were to be ledto the pis'kun, the following method was adopted to keep the herdtravelling in the desired direction after they had got between the wings ofthe chute. A line of buffalo chips, each one supported on three smallsticks, so that it stood a few inches above the snow, was carried from themouth of the pis'kun straight out toward the prairie. The chips were aboutthirty feet apart, and ran midway between the wings of the chute. This linewas, of course, conspicuous against the white snow, and when the buffalowere running down the chute, they always followed it, never turning to theright nor to the left. In the latter days of the pis'kun, the man who ledthe buffalo was often mounted on a white horse.

Often, when they drove the buffalo over a high vertical cliff, no corralwas built beneath. Most of those driven over were killed or disabled by thefall, and only a few got away. The pis'kuns, as a rule, were built underlow-cut bluffs, and sometimes the buffalo were driven in by moonlight.

In connection with the subject of leading or decoying the buffalo, anothermatter not generally known may be mentioned. Sometimes, as a matter ofconvenience, a herd was brought from a long distance close up to thecamp. This was usually done in the spring of the year, when the horses werethin in flesh and not in condition to stand a long chase. I myself havenever seen this; but my friend, William Jackson, was once present at such adrive by the Red River half-breeds, and has described to me the way inwhich it was done.

The camp was on Box Elder Creek near the Musselshell River. It was in thespring of 1881, and the horses were all pretty well run down and thin, sothat their owners wished to spare them as much as possible. The buffalowere seven or eight miles distant, and two men were sent out to bring themto the camp. Other men, leading fresh horses, went with them, and hidthemselves among the hills at different points along the course that thebuffalo were expected to take, at intervals of a mile and a half. Theywatched the herd, and were on hand to supply the fresh horses to the menwho were bringing it.

The buffalo were on a wide flat, and the men rode over the hill andadvanced toward the herd at a walk. At length the buffalo noticed them, andbegan to huddle up together and to walk about, and at length to walkaway. Then the men turned, and rode along parallel to the buffalo's course,and at the same gait that these were taking. When the buffalo began totrot, the men trotted, and when the herd began to lope, the men loped, andat length they were all running pretty fast. The men kept about half a milefrom the herd, and up even with the leaders. As they ran, the herd keptconstantly edging a little toward the riders, as if trying to cross infront of them. This inclination toward the men was least when they were faroff, and greatest when they drew nearer to them. At no time were the mennearer to the herd than four hundred yards. If the buffalo edged too muchtoward the riders, so that the course they were taking would lead them awayfrom camp, the men would drop back and cross over behind the herd to theother side, and then, pushing their horses hard, would come up with theleaders,—but still at a distance from them,—and then the buffalo wouldbegin to edge toward them, and the herd would be brought back again to thedesired course. If necessary, this was repeated, and so the buffalo werekept travelling in a course approximately straight.

By the time the buffalo had got pretty near to the camp, they were prettywell winded, and the tongues of many of them were hanging out. This herdwas led up among the rolling hills about a mile from the camp, and therethe people were waiting for them, and charged them, when the herd broke up,the animals running in every direction.

Occasionally it would happen that for a long time the buffalo would not befound in a place favorable for driving over the cliff or into a pen. Insuch cases, the Indians would steal out on foot, and, on a day when therewas no wind, would stealthily surround the herd. Then they would startlethe buffalo, and yet would keep them from breaking through the circle. Thebuffalo would "mill" around until exhausted, and at length, when worn out,would be shot down by the Indians. This corresponds almost exactly with oneof the methods employed in killing buffalo by the Pawnees in early daysbefore they had horses.[1] In those days the Pi-k[)u]n'-i were verynumerous, and sometimes when a lot of buffalo were found in a favorableposition, and there was no wind, the people would surround them, and set uptheir lodges about them, thus practically building a corral oflodges. After all preparations had been made, they would frighten thebuffalo, which, being afraid to pass through between the lodges, would runround and round in a great circle, and when they were exhausted the peoplewould kill them.

[Footnote 1: Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk-Tales, p. 250.]

Then they always had plenty of buffalo—if not fresh meat, that which theyhad dried. For in winter they would kill large numbers of buffalo, andwould prepare great stores of dried meat. As spring opened, the buffalowould move down to the more flat prairie country away from thepis'kuns. Then the Blackfeet would also move away. As winter drew near, thebuffalo would again move up close to the mountains, and the Indians, asfood began to become scarce, would follow them toward the pis'kuns. In thelast of the summer and early autumn, they always had runners out, lookingfor the buffalo, to find where they were, and which way they weremoving. In the early autumn, all the pis'kuns were repaired andstrengthened, so as to be in good order for winter.

In the days before they had horses, and even in later times when the groundwas of such a character as to prevent running the buffalo, an ingeniousmethod of still-hunting them was practised. A story told by Hugh Monroeillustrates it. He said: "I was often detailed by the Hudson's Bay Companyto go out in charge of a number of men, to kill meat for the fort. When theground was full of holes and wash-outs, so that running was dangerous, Iused to put on a big timber wolf's skin, which I carried for the purpose,tying it at my neck and waist, and then to sneak up to the buffalo. I useda bow and arrows, and generally shot a number without alarming them. If onelooked suspiciously at me, I would howl like a wolf. Sometimes the smell ofthe blood from the wounded and dying would set the bulls crazy. They wouldrun up and lick the blood, and sometimes toss the dead ones clear from theground. Then they would bellow and fight each other, sometimes goring oneanother so badly that they died. The great bulls, their tongues coveredwith blood, their eyes flashing, and tails sticking out straight, roaringand fighting, were terrible to see; and it was a little dangerous for me,because the commotion would attract buffalo from all directions to see whatwas going on. At such times, I would signal to my men, and they would rideup and scare the buffalo away."

In more modern times, the height of pleasure to a Blackfoot was to ride agood horse and run buffalo. When bows and arrows, and, later,muzzle-loading "f*ckes" were the only weapons, no more buffalo were killedthan could actually be utilized. But after the Winchester repeater came inuse, it seemed as if the different tribes vied with each other in wantonslaughter. Provided with one of these weapons and a couple of belts ofcartridges, the hunters would run as long as their horses could keep upwith the band, and literally cover the prairie with carcasses, many ofwhich were never even skinned.

ANTELOPE

It is said that once in early times the men determined that they would useantelope skins for their women's dresses, instead of cowskins. So theyfound a place where antelope were plenty, and set up on the prairie longlines of rock piles, or of bushes, so as to form a chute like a >. Near thepoint where the lines joined, they dug deep pits, which they roofed withslender poles, and covered these with grass and a little dirt. Then thepeople scattered out, and while most of them hid behind the rock piles andbushes, a few started the antelope toward the mouth of the chute. As theyran by them, the people showed themselves and yelled, and the antelope randown the chute and finally reached the pits, and falling into them weretaken, when they were killed and divided among the hunters. Afterward, thiswas the common method of securing antelopes up to the coming of the whites.

EAGLES

Before the whites came to the Blackfoot country, the Indian standard ofvalue was eagle tail-feathers. They were used to make war head-dresses, totie on the head, and to ornament shields, lances, and otherweapons. Besides this, the wings were used for fans, and the body feathersfor arrow-making. Always a wary bird, the eagle could seldom be approachednear enough for killing with the bow and arrow; and, in fact, it seems asif it was considered improper to kill it in that way. The capture of thesebirds appears to have had about it something of a sacred nature, and, aswas always the case among wild Indians when anything important was to beundertaken, it was invariably preceded by earnest prayers to the Deity forhelp and for success.

There are still living many men who have caught eagles in the ancientmethod, and, from several of these, accounts have been received, which,while essentially similar, yet differ in certain particulars, especially inthe explanations of certain features of the ceremony.

Wolf Calf's account of this ceremony is as follows:—

"A man who started out to catch eagles moved his lodge and his family awayfrom the main camp, to some place where the birds were abundant. A spot waschosen on top of a mound or butte within a few miles of his lodge, and herehe dug a pit in the ground as long as his body and somewhat deeper. Theearth removed was carried away to a distance, and scattered about so as tomake no show. When the pit had been made large enough, it was roofed overwith small willow sticks, on which grass was scattered, and over the grassa little earth and stones were laid, so as to give the place a naturallook, like the prairie all about it.

"The bait was a piece of bloody neck of a buffalo. This, of course, couldbe seen a long way off, and by the meat a stuffed wolf skin was oftenplaced, standing up, as if the animal were eating. To the piece of neck wastied a rope, which passed down through the roof of the pit and was held inthe watcher's hand.

"After all had been made ready, the next day the man rose very early,before it was light, and, after smoking and praying, left his camp, tellinghis wives and children not to use an awl while he was gone. He endeavoredto reach the pit early in the morning, before it became light, and lay downin it, taking with him a slender stick about six feet long, a human skull,and a little pemmican. Then he waited.

"When the morning came, and the eagles were flying, one of them would seethe meat and descend to take it away from the wolf. Finding it held fast bythe rope, the bird began to feed on it; and while it was pecking at thebait, the watcher seized it by the legs, and drew it into the pit, where hekilled it, either by twisting its neck, or by crushing it with hisknees. Then he laid it to one side, first opening the bill and putting alittle piece of pemmican in its mouth. This was done to make the othereagles hungry. While he was in the pit, the man neither ate, drank, norslept. He had a sleeping-place not far off, to which he repaired each nightafter dark, and there he ate and drank.

"The reason for taking the skull into the hole with the catcher was, inpart, for his protection. It was believed that the ghost of the person towhom the skull had belonged would protect the watcher against harm from theeagle, and besides that, the skull, or ghost, would make the watcherinvisible, like a ghost. The eagle would not see him.

"The stick was used to poke or drive away smaller birds, such as magpies,crows, and ravens, which might alight on the roof of the pit, and try tofeed on the bait. It was used, also, to drive away the white-headed eagle,which they did not care to catch. These are powerful birds; they couldalmost kill a person.

"There are two sacred things connected with the catching of eagles,—twothings which must be observed if the eagle-catcher is to have goodluck. The man who is watching must not eat rosebuds. If he does, the eagle,when he comes down and alights by the bait, will begin to scratch himselfand will not attack the bait. The rosebuds will make him itch. Neither theman nor his wife must use an awl while he is absent from his lodge, and istrying to catch the birds. If this is done, the eagles will scratch thecatcher. Sometimes one man would catch a great many eagles."

In his day, John Monroe was a famous eagle-catcher, and he has given me thefollowing account of the method as he has practised it. The pit is dug, sixfeet long, three wide, and four deep, on top of the highest knoll that canbe found near a stream. The earth taken out is carried a long way off. Overthe pit they put two long poles, one on each side, running lengthwise ofthe pit, and other smaller sticks are laid across, resting on thepoles. The smaller sticks are covered with juniper twigs and long grass. Theskin of a wolf, coyote, or fox, is stuffed with grass, and made to look asnatural as possible. A hole is cut in the wolf skin and a rope is passedthrough it, one end being tied to a large piece of meat which lies by theskin, and the other passing through the roof down into the pit. The bait isnow covered with grass, and the man returns to his lodge for the night.

During the night, he sings his eagle songs and burns sweet grass for theeagles, rubbing the smoke over his own body to purify himself, so that onthe morrow he will give out no scent. Before day he leaves his lodgewithout eating or drinking, goes to the pit and lies down in it. Heuncovers the bait, arranges the roof, and sits there all day holding therope. Crows and other birds alight by the bait and peck at it, but he paysno attention to them.

The eagle, sailing about high in air, sees the bait, and settles downslowly. It takes it a long time to make up its mind to come to the bait. Inthe pit, the man can hear the sound of the eagle coming. When the birdsettles on the ground, it does not alight on the bait, but at one side ofit, striking the ground with a thud—heavily. The man never mistakesanything else for that sound. The eagle walks toward the bait, and all theother birds fly away. It walks on to the roof; and, through the crevicesthat have been left between the sticks, the man can see in which directionthe bird's head is. He carefully pushes the stick aside and, reaching out,grasps the eagle by the two feet. The bird does not struggle much. It isdrawn down into the pit, and the man wrings its neck. Then the opening isclosed, and the roof arranged as before. So the man waits and catches theeagles that come through the day. Sometimes he sits all day and getsnothing; again he may get eight or ten in a day.

When darkness comes, the man leaves his hiding-place, takes his eagles, andgoes home. He carries the birds to a special lodge, prepared outside of thecamp, which is called the eagles' lodge. He places them on the ground in arow, and raises their heads, resting them on a stick laid in front of therow. In the mouth of each one is put a piece of pemmican, so that they maynot be afraid of the people. The object of feeding the eagles is thattheir spirits may tell other eagles how they are being treated—that theyare being fed by the people. In the lodge is a human skull, and they prayto it, asking the ghost to help them get the eagles.

It is said that in one pit, once, forty eagles were killed in a day. Thelarger hawks were caught, as well as eagles, though the latter were themost highly valued. Five eagles used to be worth a good horse, a valuationwhich shows that, in the Blackfoot country, eagles were more plenty, orhorses more valuable, than farther south, where, in old times, two eagleswould purchase a horse.

OTHER GAME

They had no special means of capturing deer in any numbers. These wereusually killed singly. The hunters used to creep up on elk and deer in thebrush, and when they had come close to them, they could drive even theirstone-pointed arrows deep in the flesh. Often their game was killed dead onthe spot, but if not, they left it alone until the next day, when, on goingback to the place, it was usually found near by, either dead or sodesperately wounded that they could secure it.

Deadfalls were used to catch wolves, foxes, and other fur animals, andsmall apertures in the pis'kun walls were provided with nooses and snaresfor the same purpose.

Another way to catch wolves and coyotes was to set heavy stakes in theground in a circle, about the carcasses of one or two dead buffalo. Thestakes were placed at an angle of about forty-five degrees, a few inchesapart, and all pointing toward the centre of the circle. At one place, dirtwas piled up against the stakes from the outside, and the wolves, climbingup on this, jumped down into the enclosure, but were unable to jumpout. Hugh Monroe tells me that, about thirty years ago, he and his sonsmade a trap like this, and in one night caught eighty-three wolves andcoyotes.

In early times, beaver were very abundant and very tame, and were shot withbows and arrows.

The Blackfeet were splendid prairie hunters. They had no superiors in theart of stalking and killing such wary animals as the antelope. Sometimesthey wore hats made of the skin and horns of an antelope head, which werevery useful when approaching the game. Although the prairie waspre-eminently their hunting-ground, they were also skilful in climbingmountains and killing sheep and goats. On the other hand, the northernCrees, who also are a prairie people, are poor mountain hunters.

THE BLACKFOOT IN WAR

The Blackfeet were a warlike people. How it may have been in the old days,before the coming of the white men, we do not know. Very likely, in earlytimes, they were usually at peace with neighboring tribes, or, if quarrelstook place, battles were fought, and men killed, this was only in angrydispute over what each party considered its rights. Their wars wereprobably not general, nor could they have been very bloody. When, however,horses came into the possession of the Indians, all this must have soonbecome changed. Hitherto there had really been no incentive to war. Fromtime to time expeditions may have gone out to kill enemies,—for glory, orto take revenge for some injury,—but war had not yet been made desirableby the hope of plunder, for none of their neighbors—any more thanthemselves—had property which was worth capturing and takingaway. Primitive arms, dogs, clothing, and dried meat were common to all thetribes, and were their only possessions, and usually each tribe had anabundance of all these. It was not worth any man's while to make longjourneys and to run into danger merely to increase his store of suchproperty, when his present possessions were more than sufficient to meetall his wants. Even if such things had seemed desirable plunder, the amountof it which could be carried away was limited, since—for a war party—theonly means of transporting captured articles from place to place was onmen's backs, nor could men burdened with loads either run or fight. Butwhen horses became known, and the Indians began to realize what a changethe possession of these animals was working in their mode of life, whenthey saw that, by enormously increasing the transporting power of eachfamily, horses made far greater possessions practicable, that they insuredthe food supply, rendered the moving of the camp easier and more rapid,made possible long journeys with a minimum of effort, and that they had avalue for trading, the Blackfoot mind received a new idea, the idea thatit was desirable to accumulate property. The Blackfoot saw that, sincehorses could be exchanged for everything that was worth having, no onehad as many horses as he needed. A pretty wife, a handsome war bonnet,a strong bow, a finely ornamented woman's dress,—any or all of thesethings a man might obtain, if he had horses to trade for them. Thegambler at "hands," or at the ring game, could bet horses. The man whowas devoted to his last married wife could give her a horse as an evidenceof his affection.

We can readily understand what a change the advent of the horse must haveworked in the minds of a people like the Blackfeet, and how this changedmental attitude would react on the Blackfoot way of living. At first, therewere but few horses among them, but they knew that their neighbors to thewest and south—across the mountains and on the great plains beyond theMissouri and the Yellowstone—had plenty of them; that the K[=u]tenais, theKalispels, the Snakes, the Crows, and the Sioux were well provided. Theysoon learned that horses were easily driven off, and that, even if followedby those whose property they had taken, the pursued had a great advantageover the pursuers; and we may feel sure that it was not long before theidea of capturing horses from the enemy entered some Blackfoot head and wasput into practice.

Now began a systematic sending forth of war parties against neighboringtribes for the purpose of capturing horses, which continued for aboutseventy-five or eighty years, and has only been abandoned within the lastsix or seven, and since the settlement of the country by the whites made itimpossible for the Blackfeet longer to pass backward and forward through iton their raiding expeditions. Horse-taking at once became what might becalled an established industry among the Blackfeet. Success brought wealthand fame, and there was a pleasing excitement about the war journey.Except during the bitterest weather of the winter, war parties of Blackfeetwere constantly out, searching for camps of their enemies, from whom theymight capture horses. Usually the only object of such an expedition was tosecure plunder, but often enemies were killed, and sometimes the party setout with the distinct intention of taking both scalps and horses.

Until some time after they had obtained guns, the Blackfeet were onexcellent terms with the northern Crees, but later the Chippeways from theeast made war on the Blackfeet, and this brought about general hostilitiesagainst all Crees, which have continued up to within a few years. If Irecollect aright, the last fight which occurred between the Pi-kun'-i andthe Crees took place in 1886. In this skirmish, which followed an attemptby the Crees to capture some Piegan horses, my friend,Tail-feathers-coming-in-sight-over-the-Hill, killed and counted coup on aCree whose scalp he afterward sent me, as an evidence of his prowess.

The Gros Ventres of the prairie, of Arapaho stock, known to the Blackfeetas At-séna, or Gut People, had been friends and allies of the Blackfeetfrom the time they first came into the country, early in this century, upto about the year 1862, when, according to Clark, peace was broken througha mistake.[1] A war party of Snakes had gone to a Gros Ventres camp nearthe Bear Paw Mountains and there killed two Gros Ventres and taken a whitepony, which they subsequently gave to a party of Piegans whom they met, andwith whom they made peace. The Gros Ventres afterward saw this horse in thePiegan camp and supposed that the latter had killed their tribesman, andthis led to a long war. In the year 1867, the Piegans defeated the alliedCrows and Gros Ventres in a great battle near the Cypress Mountains, inwhich about 450 of the enemy are said to have been killed.

[Footnote 1: Indian Sign Language, p. 70.]

An expression often used in these pages, and which is so familiar to onewho has lived much with Indians as to need no explanation, is the phrase tocount coup. Like many of the terms common in the Northwest, this onecomes down to us from the old French trappers and traders, and a coup is,of course, a blow. As commonly used, the expression is almost a directtranslation of the Indian phrase to strike the enemy, which is in ordinaryuse among all tribes. This striking is the literal inflicting a blow on anindividual, and does not mean merely the attack on a body of enemies.

The most creditable act that an Indian can perform is to show that he isbrave, to prove, by some daring deed, his physical courage, his lack offear. In practice, this courage is shown by approaching near enough to anenemy to strike or touch him with something that is held in the hand—tocome up within arm's length of him. To kill an enemy is praiseworthy, andthe act of scalping him may be so under certain circ*mstances, but neitherof these approaches in bravery the hitting or touching him with somethingheld in the hand. This is counting coup.

The man who does this shows himself without fear and is respectedaccordingly. With certain tribes, as the Pawnees, Cheyennes, and others, itwas not very uncommon for a warrior to dash up to an enemy and strike himbefore making any attempt to injure him, the effort to kill being secondaryto the coup. The blow might be struck with anything held in the hand,—awhip, coupstick, club, lance, the muzzle of a gun, a bow, or what not. Itdid not necessarily follow that the person on whom the coup had beencounted would be injured. The act was performed in the case of a woman, whomight be captured, or even on a child, who was being made prisoner.

Often the dealing the coup showed a very high degree of courage. Asalready implied, it might be counted on a man who was defending himselfmost desperately, and was trying his best to kill the approaching enemy,or, even if the attempt was being made on a foe who had fallen, it wasnever certain that he was beyond the power of inflicting injury. He mightbe only wounded, and, just when the enemy had come close to him, and wasabout to strike, he might have strength enough left to raise himself up andshoot him dead. In their old wars, the Indians rarely took mencaptive. The warrior never expected quarter nor gave it, and usually menfought to the death, and died mute, defending themselves to the last—tothe last, striving to inflict some injury on the enemy.

The striking the blow was an important event in a man's life, and he whoperformed this feat remembered it. He counted it. It was a proud day forthe young warrior when he counted his first coup, and each subsequent onewas remembered and numbered in the warrior's mind, just as an American ofto-day remembers the number of times he has been elected to Congress. Atcertain dances and religious ceremonies, like that of the Medicine Lodge,the warriors counted—or rather re-counted—their coups.

While the coup was primarily, and usually, a blow with something held inthe hand, other acts in warfare which involved great danger to him whoperformed them were also reckoned coups by some tribes. Thus, for ahorseman to ride over and knock down an enemy, who was on foot, wasregarded among the Blackfeet as a coup, for the horseman might be shot atclose quarters, or might receive a lance thrust. It was the same to rideone's horse violently against a mounted foe. An old Pawnee told me of acoup that he had counted by running up to a fallen enemy and jumping onhim with both feet. Sometimes the taking of horses counted a coup, butthis was not always the case.

As suggested by what has been already stated, each tribe of the PlainsIndians held its own view as to what constituted a coup. The Pawnees werevery strict in their interpretation of the term, and with them an act ofdaring was not in itself deemed a coup. This was counted only when theperson of an enemy was actually touched. One or two incidents which haveoccurred among the Pawnees will serve to illustrate their notions on thispoint.

In the year 1867, the Pawnee scouts had been sent up to Ogallalla,Nebraska, to guard the graders who were working on the Union Pacificrailroad. While they were there, some Sioux came down from the hills andran off a few mules, taking them across the North Platte. Major North tooktwenty men and started after them. Crossing the river, and following it upon the north bank, he headed them off, and before long came in sight ofthem.

The six Sioux, when they found that they were pursued, left the mules thatthey had taken, and ran; and the Pawnees, after chasing them eight or tenmiles, caught up with one of them, a brother of the well-known chiefSpotted Tail. Baptiste Bahele, a half-breed Skidi, had a very fast horse,and was riding ahead of the other Pawnees, and shooting arrows at theSioux, who was shooting back at him. At length Baptiste shot the enemy'shorse in the hip, and the Indian dismounted and ran on foot toward aravine. Baptiste shot at him again, and this time sent an arrow nearlythrough his body, so that the point projected in front. The Sioux caughtthe arrow by the point, pulled it through his body, and shot it back at hispursuer, and came very near hitting him. About that time, a ball from acarbine hit the Sioux and knocked him down.

Then there was a race between Baptiste and the Pawnee next behind him, tosee which should count coup on the fallen man. Baptiste was nearest tohim and reached him first, but just as he got to him, and was leaning overfrom his horse, to strike the dead man, the animal shied at the body,swerving to one side, and he failed to touch it. The horse ridden by theother Pawnee ran right over the Sioux, and his rider leaned down andtouched him.

Baptiste claimed the coup—although acknowledging that he had notactually touched the man—on the ground that he had exposed himself to allthe danger, and would have hit the man if his horse had not swerved as itdid from the body; but the Pawnees would not allow it, and all gave thecredit of the coup to the other boy, because he had actually touched theenemy.

On another occasion three or four young men started on the warpath from thePawnee village. When they came near to Spotted Tail's camp on the PlatteRiver, they crossed the stream, took some horses, and got them safelyacross the river. Then one of the boys recrossed, went back to the camp,and cut loose another horse. He had almost got this one out of the camp,when an Indian came out of a lodge near by, and sat down. The Pawnee shotthe Sioux, counted coup on him, scalped him, and then hurried across theriver with the whole Sioux camp in pursuit. When the party returned to thePawnee village, this boy was the only one who received credit for a coup.

Among the Blackfeet the capture of a shield, bow, gun, war bonnet, warshirt, or medicine pipe was deemed a coup.

Nothing gave a man a higher place in the estimation of the people than thecounting of coups, for, I repeat, personal bravery is of all qualitiesthe most highly respected by Indians. On special occasions, as has beensaid, men counted over again in public their coups. This served togratify personal vanity, and also to incite the young men to theperformance of similar brave deeds. Besides this, they often made a moreenduring record of these acts, by reproducing them pictographically onrobes, cowskins, and other hides. There is now in my possession anilluminated cowskin, presented to me by Mr. J. Kipp, which contains therecord of the coups and the most striking events in the life of RedCrane, a Blackfoot warrior, painted by himself. These pictographs are veryrude and are drawn after the style common among Plains Indians, but nodoubt they were sufficiently lifelike to call up to the mind of the artisteach detail of the stirring events which they record.

The Indian warrior who stood up to relate some brave deed which he hadperformed was almost always in a position to prove the truth of hisstatements. Either he had the enemy's scalp, or some trophy captured fromhim, to produce as evidence, or else he had a witness of his feat in somecompanion. A man seldom boasted of any deed unless he was able to prove hisstory, and false statements about exploits against the enemy were mostunusual. Temporary peace was often made between tribes usually at war, and,at the friendly meetings which took place during such times of peace,former battles were talked over, the performances of various individualsdiscussed, and the acts of particular men in the different rights commentedon. In this way, if any man had falsely claimed to have done brave deeds,he would be detected.

An example of this occurred many years ago among the Cheyennes. At thattime, there was a celebrated chief of the Skidi tribe of the Pawnee Nationwhose name was Big Eagle. He was very brave, and the Cheyennes greatlyfeared him, and it was agreed among them that the man who could countcoup on Big Eagle should be made warchief of the Cheyennes. After a fighton the Loup River, a Cheyenne warrior claimed to have counted coup on BigEagle by thrusting a lance through his buttocks. On the strength of theclaim, this man was made war chief of the Cheyennes. Some years later,during a friendly visit made by the Pawnees to the Cheyennes, this incidentwas mentioned. Big Eagle was present at the time, and, after inquiringinto the matter, he rose in council, denied that he had ever been struck asclaimed, and, throwing aside his robe, called on the Cheyennes present toexamine his body and to point out the scars left by the lance. None werefound. It was seen that Big Eagle spoke the truth; and the lying Cheyenne,from the proud position of war chief, sank to a point where he was anobject of contempt to the meanest Indian in his tribe.

Among the Blackfeet a war party usually, or often, had its origin in adream. Some man who has a dream, after he awakes tells of it. Perhaps hemay say: "I dreamed that on a certain stream is a herd of horses that havebeen given to me, and that I am going away to get. I am going to war. Ishall go to that place and get my band of horses." Then the men who knowhim, who believe that his medicine is strong and that he will have goodluck, make up their minds to follow him. As soon as he has stated what heintends to do, his women and his female relations begin to make moccasinsfor him, and the old men among his relations begin to give him arrows andpowder and ball to fit him out for war. The relations of those who aregoing with him do the same for them.

The leader notifies the young men who are going with him on what day and atwhat hour he intends to start. He determines the time for himself, butdoes not let the whole camp know it in advance. Of late years, large warparties have not been desirable. They have preferred to go out in smallbodies. Just before a war party sets out, its members get together and singthe "peeling a stick song," which is a wolf song. Then they build a sweatlodge and go into it, and with them goes in an old man, a medicine-pipeman, who has been a good warrior. They fill the pipe and ask him to prayfor them, that they may have good luck, and may accomplish what theydesire. The medicine-pipe man prays and sings and pours water on the hotstones, and the warriors with their knives slice bits of skin and fleshfrom their bodies,—their arms and breasts and sometimes from the tip ofthe tongue,—which they offer to the Sun. Then, after the ceremony is over,all dripping with perspiration from their vapor bath, the men go down tothe river and plunge in.

In starting out, a war party often marches in the daytime, but sometimesthey travel at night from the beginning. Often they may make an all nightmarch across a wide prairie, in passing over which they might be seen ifthey travelled in the day. They journey on foot, always. The older mencarry their arms, while the boys bear the moccasins, the ropes, and thefood, which usually consists of dried meat or pemmican. They carry alsocoats and blankets and their war bonnets and otter skin medicine. Theleader has but little physical labor to perform. His mind is occupied inplanning the movements of his party. He is treated with the greatestrespect. The others mend his moccasins, and give him the best of the foodwhich they carry.

After they get away from the main camp, the leader selects the strongest ofthe young men, and sends him ahead to some designated butte, saying, "Go tothat place, and look carefully over the country, and if you see nothing,make signals to us to come on." This scout goes on ahead, travelling in theravines and coulées, and keeps himself well hidden. After he hasreconnoitred and made signs that he sees nothing, the party proceedsstraight toward him.

The party usually starts early in the morning and travels all day, makingcamp at sundown. During the day, if they happen to come upon an antelope ora buffalo, they kill it, if possible, and take some of the meat withthem. They try in every way to economize their pemmican. They alwaysendeavor to make camp in the thick timber, where they cannot be seen; andhere, when it is necessary, on account of bad weather or for other reasons,they build a war lodge. Taking four young cotton-woods or aspens, on whichthe leaves are left, and lashing them together like lodge poles, but withthe butts up, about these they place other similar trees, also butts up anduntrimmed. The leaves keep the rain off, and prevent the light of the firewhich is built in the lodge from showing through. Sometimes, when on theprairie, where there is no wood, in stormy weather they will build ashelter of rocks. When the party has come close to the enemy, or into acountry where the enemy are likely to be found, they build no more fires,but eat their food uncooked.

When they see fresh tracks of people, or signs that enemies are in thecountry, they stop travelling in the daytime and move altogether by night,until they come to some good place for hiding, and here they stop andsleep. When day comes, the leader sends out young men to the differentbuttes, to look over the country and see if they can discover the enemy. Ifsome one of the scouts reports that he has seen a camp, and that the enemyhave been found, the leader directs his men to paint themselves and put ontheir war bonnets. This last is a figure of speech, since the war bonnets,having of late years been usually ornamented with brass bells, could not beworn in a secret attack, on account of the noise they would make. Beforepainting themselves, therefore, they untie their war bonnets, and spreadthem out on the ground, as if they were about to be worn, and then whenthey have finished painting themselves, tie them up again. When it beginsto get dark, they start on the run for the enemy's camp. They leave theirfood in camp, but carry their ropes slung over the shoulder and under thearm, whips stuck in belts, guns and blankets.

After they have crept up close to the lodges, the leader chooses certainmen that have strong hearts, and takes them with him into the camp to cutloose the horses. The rest of the party remain outside the camp, and lookabout its outskirts, driving in any horses that may be feeding about, nottied up. Of those who have gone into the camp, some cut loose one horse,while others cut all that may be tied about a lodge. Some go only once intothe camp, and some go twice to get the horses. When they have secured thehorses, they drive them off a little way from the camp, at first goingslowly, and then mount and ride off fast. Generally, they travel twonights and one day before sleeping.

This is the usual method of procedure of an ordinary expedition to capturehorses, and I have given it very nearly in the language of the men whoexplained it to me.

In their hostile encounters, the Blackfeet have much that is common to manyPlains tribes, and also some customs that are peculiar to themselves. Likemost Indians, they are subject to sudden, apparently causeless, panics,while at other times they display a courage that is heroic. They are firmbelievers in luck, and will follow a leader who is fortunate in hisexpeditions into almost any danger. On the other hand, if the leader of awar party loses his young men, or any of them, the people in the camp thinkthat he is unlucky, and does not know how to lead a war party. Young menwill not follow him as a leader, and he is obliged to go as a servant orscout under another leader. He is likely never again to lead a war party,having learned to distrust his luck.

If a war party meets the enemy, and kills several of them, losing in thebattle one of its own number, it is likely, as the phrase is, to "cover"the slain Blackfoot with all the dead enemies save one, and to have a scalpdance over that remaining one. If a party had killed six of the enemy andlost a man, it might "cover" the slain Blackfoot with five of the enemy. Inother words, the five dead enemies would pay for the one which the warparty had lost. So far, matters would be even, and they would feel atliberty to rejoice over the victory gained over the one that is left.

The Blackfeet sometimes cut to pieces an enemy killed in battle. If aBlackfoot had a relation killed by a member of another tribe, and afterwardkilled one of this tribe, he was likely to cut him all to pieces "to geteven," that is, to gratify his spite—to obtain revenge. Sometimes, afterthey had killed an enemy, they dragged his body into camp, so as to givethe children an opportunity to count coup on it. Often they cut the feetand hands off the dead, and took them away and danced over them for a longtime. Sometimes they cut off an arm or a leg, and often the head, anddanced and rejoiced over this trophy.

Women and children of hostile tribes were often captured, and adopted intothe Blackfoot tribes with all the rights and privileges of indigenousmembers. Men were rarely captured. When they were taken, they weresometimes killed in cold blood, especially if they had made a desperateresistance before being captured. At other times, the captive would be keptfor a time, and then the chief would take him off away from the camp, andgive him provisions, clothing, arms, and a horse, and let him go. Thecaptive man always had a hard time at first. When he was brought into thecamp, the women and children threw dirt on him and counted coups on him,pounding him with sticks and clubs. He was rarely tied, but was alwayswatched. Often the man who had taken him prisoner had great trouble tokeep his tribesmen from killing him.

In the very early days of this century, war parties used commonly to startout in the spring, going south to the land where horses were abundant,being absent all summer and the next winter, and returning the followingsummer or autumn, with great bands of horses. Sometimes they were gone twoyears. They say that on such journeys they used to go to Spai'yu ksah'ku,which means the Spanish lands—Spai'yu being a recently made word, nodoubt from the French espagnol. That they did get as far as Mexico, or atleast New Mexico, is indicated by the fact that they brought back brandedhorses and a few branded mules; for in these early days there was no stockupon the Plains, and animals bearing brands were found only in the SpanishAmerican settlements. The Blackfeet did not know what these marksmeant. From their raids into these distant lands, they sometimes broughtback arms of strange make, lances, axes, and swords, of a form unlike anythat they had seen. The lances had broad heads; some of the axes, asdescribed, were evidently the old "T. Gray" trade axes of the southwest. Asword, described as having a long, slender, straight blade, inlaid with aflower pattern of yellow metal along the back, was probably an old Spanishrapier.

In telling of these journeys to Spanish lands, they say of the very longreeds which grow there, that they are very large at the butt, are jointed,very hard, and very tall; they grow in marshy places; and the water therehas a strange, mouldy smell.

It is said, too, that there have been war parties who have crossed themountains and gone so far to the west that they have seen the big saltwater which lies beyond, or west of, the Great Salt Lake. Journeys as farsouth as Salt Lake were not uncommon, and Hugh Monroe has told me of a warparty he accompanied which went as far as this.

RELIGION

In ancient times the chief god of the Blackfeet—their Creator—was Na'pi(Old Man). This is the word used to indicate any old man, though itsmeaning is often loosely given as white. An analysis of the word Na'pi,however, shows it to be compounded of the word Ni'nah, man, and theparticle a'pi, which expresses a color, and which is never used byitself, but always in combination with some other word. The Blackfoot wordfor white is Ksik-si-num' while a'pi, though also conveying the idea ofwhiteness, really describes the tint seen in the early morning light whenit first appears in the east—the dawn—not a pure white, but that colorcombined with a faint cast of yellow. Na'pi, therefore, would seem tomean dawn-light-color-man, or man-yellowish-white. It is easy to see whyold men should be called by this latter name, for it describes preciselythe color of their hair.

Dr. Brinton, in his valuable work, American Hero Myths, has suggested amore profound reason why such a name should be given to the Creator. Hesays: "The most important of all things to life is light. This theprimitive savage felt, and personifying it, he made light his chief god.The beginning of day served, by analogy, for the beginning of theworld. Light comes before the Sun, brings it forth, creates it, as itwere. Hence the Light god is not the Sun god but his antecedent andCreator."

It would be absurd to attribute to the Blackfoot of to-day any suchabstract conception of the name of the Creator as that expressed in theforegoing quotation. The statement that Old Man was merely lightpersonified would be beyond his comprehension, and if he did understandwhat was meant, he would laugh at it, and aver that Na'pi was a real man,a flesh and blood person like himself.

The character of Old Man, as depicted in the stories told of him by theBlackfeet, is a curious mixture of opposite attributes. In the serioustales, such as those of the creation, he is spoken of respectfully, andthere is no hint of the impish qualities which characterize him in otherstories, in which he is powerful, but also at times impotent; full of allwisdom, yet at times so helpless that he has to ask aid from theanimals. Sometimes he sympathizes with the people, and at others, out ofpure spitefulness, he plays them malicious tricks that are worthy of ademon. He is a combination of strength, weakness, wisdom, folly,childishness, and malice.

Under various names Old Man is known to the Crees, Chippeways, and otherAlgonquins, and many of the stories that are current among the Blackfeetare told of him among those tribes. The more southern of these tribes donot venerate him as of old, but the Plains and Timber Crees of the north,and the north Chippeways, are said still to be firm believers in OldMan. He was their Creator, and is still their chief god. He is believed inless by the younger generation than the older. The Crees are regarded bythe Indians of the Northwest as having very powerful medicine, and this allcomes from Old Man.

Old Man can never die. Long ago he left the Blackfeet and went away to theWest, disappearing in the mountains. Before his departure he told themthat he would always take care of them, and some day would return. Evennow, many of the old people believe that he spoke the truth, and that someday he will come back, and will bring with him the buffalo, which theybelieve the white men have hidden. It is sometimes said, however, that whenhe left them he told them also that, when he returned, he would find themchanged—a different people and living in a different way from that whichthey practised when he went away. Sometimes, also, it is said that when hedisappeared he went to the East.

It is generally believed that Old Man is no longer the principal god of theBlackfeet, that the Sun has taken his place. There is some reason tosuspect, however, that the Sun and Old Man are one, that N[=a]t[=o]s' isonly another name for Na'pi, for I have been told by two or three old menthat "the Sun is the person whom we call Old Man." However this may be, itis certain that Na'pi—even if he no longer occupies the chief place inthe Blackfoot religious system—is still reverenced, and is still addressedin prayer. Now, however, every good thing, success in war, in the chase,health, long life, all happiness, come by the special favor of the Sun.

The Sun is a man, the supreme chief of the world. The flat, circular earthin fact is his home, the floor of his lodge, and the over-arching sky isits covering. The moon, K[=o]-k[=o]-mik'-[=e]-[)i]s, night light, is theSun's wife. The pair have had a number of children, all but one of whomwere killed by pelicans. The survivor is the morning star,A-pi-su-ahts—early riser.

In attributes the Sun is very unlike Old Man. He is a beneficent person, ofgreat wisdom and kindness, good to those who do right. As a special meansof obtaining his favor, sacrifices must be made. These are often presentsof clothing, fine robes, or furs, and in extreme cases, when the prayer isfor life itself, the offering of a finger, or—still dearer—a lock ofhair. If a white buffalo was killed, the robe was always given to theSun. It belonged to him. Of the buffalo, the tongue—regarded as thegreatest delicacy of the whole animal—was especially sacred to theSun. The sufferings undergone by men in the Medicine Lodge each year weresacrifices to the Sun. This torture was an actual penance, like the sittingfor years on top of a pillar, the wearing of a hair shirt, or fasting inLent. It was undergone for no other purpose than that of pleasing God—as apropitiation or in fulfilment of vows made to him. Just as the priests ofBaal slashed themselves with knives to induce their god to help them, so,and for the same reason, the Blackfoot men surged on and tore out the ropestied to their skins. It is merely the carrying out of a religious idea thatis as old as history and as widespread as the globe, and is closely akin tothe motive which to-day, in our own centres of enlightened civilization,prompts acts of self-denial and penance by many thousands of intelligentcultivated people. And yet we are horrified at hearing described thetortures of the Medicine Lodge.

Besides the Sun and Old Man, the Blackfoot religious system includes anumber of minor deities or rather natural qualities and forces, which arepersonified and given shape. These are included in the general terms AbovePersons, Ground Persons, and Under Water Persons. Of the former class,Thunder is one of the most important, and is worshipped as is elsewhereshown. He brings the rain. He is represented sometimes as a bird, or, morevaguely, as in one of the stories, merely as a fearful person. Wind Makeris an example of an Under Water Person, and it is related that he has beenseen, and his form is described. It is believed by some that he lives underthe water at the head of the Upper St. Mary's Lake. Those who believe thissay that when he wants the wind to blow, he makes the waves roll, and thatthese cause the wind to blow,—another example of mistaking effect forcause, so common among the Indians. The Ground Man is another belowperson. He lives under the ground, and perhaps typifies the power of theearth, which is highly respected by all Indians of the west. The Cheyennesalso have a Ground Man whom they call The Lower One, or Below Person(Pun'-[)o]-ts[)i]-hyo). The cold and snow are brought by Cold Maker(Ai'-so-yim-stan). He is a man, white in color, with white hair, and cladin white apparel, who rides on a white horse. He brings the storm withhim. They pray to him to bring, or not to bring, the storm.

Many of the animals are regarded as typifying some form of wisdom orcraft. They are not gods, yet they have power, which, perhaps, is giventhem by the Sun or by Old Man. Examples of this are shown in some of thestories.

Among the animals especially respected and supposed to have great power,are the buffalo, the bear, the raven, the wolf, the beaver, and thekit-fox. Geese too, are credited with great wisdom and with foreknowledgeof the weather. They are led by chiefs. As is quite natural among a peoplelike the Blackfeet, the buffalo stood very high among the animals whichthey reverenced. It symbolized food and shelter, and was Nato'y[)e] (ofthe Sun), sacred. Not a few considered it a medicine animal, and had it fortheir dream, or secret helper. It was the most powerful of all the animalhelpers. Its importance is indicated by the fact that buffalo skulls wereplaced on the sweat houses built in connection with the Medicine Lodge. Asimilar respect for the buffalo exists among many Plains tribes, which wereformerly dependent on it for food and raiment. A reverence for the bearappears to be common to all North American tribes, and is based not uponanything that the animal's body yields, but perhaps on the fact that it isthe largest carnivorous mammal of the continent, the most difficult to killand extremely keen in all its senses. The Blackfeet believe it to be partbrute and part human, portions of its body, particularly the ribs and feet,being like those of a man. The raven is cunning. The wolf has greatendurance and much craft. He can steal close to one without being seen. Inthe stories given in the earlier pages of this book, many of the attributesof the different animals are clearly set forth.

There were various powers and signs connected with these animals so held inhigh esteem by the Blackfeet, to which the people gave strict heed. Thusthe raven has the power of giving people far sight. It was also useful inanother way. Often, in going to war, a man would get a raven's skin andstuff the head and neck, and tie it to the hair of the head behind. If aman wearing such a skin got near the enemy without knowing it, the skinwould give him warning by tapping him on the back of the head with itsbill. Then he would know that the enemy was near, and would hide. If araven flew over a lodge, or a number of lodges, and cried, and then wasjoined by other ravens, all flying over the camp and crying, it was a suresign that during the day some one would come and tell the news from faroff. The ravens often told the people that game was near, calling to thehunter and then flying a little way, and then coming back, and againcalling and flying toward the game.

The wolves are the people's great friends; they travel with the wolves. If,as they are travelling along, they pass close to some wolves, these willbark at the people, talking to them. Some man will call to them, "No, Iwill not give you my body to eat, but I will give you the body of some oneelse, if you will go along with us." This applies both to wolves andcoyotes. If a man goes away from the camp at night, and meets a coyote, andit barks at him, he goes back to the camp, and says to the people: "Lookout now; be smart. A coyote barked at me to-night." Then the people lookout, and are careful, for it is a sure sign that something bad is going tohappen. Perhaps some one will be shot; perhaps the enemy will charge thecamp.

If a person is hungry and sings a wolf song, he is likely to find food. Mengoing on a hunting trip sing these songs, which bring them good luck. Thebear has very powerful medicine. Sometimes he takes pity on people andhelps them, as in the story of Mik'-api.

Some Piegans, if they wish to travel on a certain day, have the power ofinsuring good weather on that day. It is supposed that they do this bysinging a powerful song. Some of the enemy can cause bad weather, when theywant to steal into the camp.

People who belonged to the Sin'-o-pah band of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi, ifthey were at war in summer and wanted a storm to come up, would take somedirt and water and rub it on the kit-fox skin, and this would cause arain-storm to come up. In winter, snow and dirt would be rubbed on the skinand this would bring up a snow-storm.

Certain places and inanimate objects are also greatly reverenced by the
Blackfeet, and presents are made to them.

The smallest of the three buttes of the Sweet Grass Hills is regarded assacred. "All the Indians are afraid to go there," Four Bears once toldme. Presents are sometimes thrown into the Missouri River, though these arenot offerings made directly to the stream, but are given to the Under WaterPeople, who live in it.

Mention has already been made of the buffalo rock, which gives its ownerthe power to call the buffalo.

Another sacred object is the medicine rock of the Marias. It is a hugeboulder of reddish sandstone, two-thirds the way up a steep hill on thenorth bank of the Marias River, about five miles from FortConrad. Formerly, this rock rested on the top of the bluff, but, as thesoil about it is worn away by the wind and the rain, it is slowly movingdown the hill. The Indians believe it to be alive, and make presents toit. When I first visited it, the ground about it was strewn with decayingremnants of offerings that had been made to it in the past. Among these Inoticed, besides fragments of clothing, eagle feathers, a steel finger ring,brass ear-rings, and a little bottle made of two copper cartridge cases.

Down on Milk River, east of the Sweet Grass Hills, is another medicinerock. It is shaped something like a man's body, and looks like a personsitting on top of the bluff. Whenever the Blackfeet pass this rock, theymake presents to it. Sometimes, when they give it an article of clothing,they put it on the rock, "and then," as one of them once said to me, "whenyou look at it, it seems more than ever like a person." Down in the bigbend of the Milk River, opposite the eastern end of the Little RockyMountains, lying on the prairie, is a great gray boulder, which is shapedlike a buffalo bull lying down. This is greatly reverenced by all PlainsIndians, Blackfeet included, and they make presents to it. Many otherexamples of similar character might be given.

The Blackfeet make daily prayers to the Sun and to Old Man, and nothing ofimportance is undertaken without asking for divine assistance. They arefirm believers in dreams. These, they say, are sent by the Sun to enable usto look ahead, to tell what is going to happen. A dream, especially if itis a strong one,—that is, if the dream is very clear and vivid,—is almostalways obeyed. As dreams start them on the war path, so, if a dreamthreatening bad luck comes to a member of a war party, even if in theenemy's country and just about to make an attack on a camp, the party islikely to turn about and go home without making any hostiledemonstrations. The animal or object which appears to the boy, or man, whois trying to dream for power, is, as has been said, regarded thereafter ashis secret helper, his medicine, and is usually called his dream(Nits-o'-kan).

The most important religious occasion of the year is the ceremony of theMedicine Lodge. This is a sacrifice, which, among the Blackfeet, is offeredinvariably by women. If a woman has a son or husband away at war, and isanxious about him, or if she has a dangerously sick child, she may make tothe Sun a vow in the following words:—

"Listen, Sun. Pity me. You have seen my life. You know that I am pure. Ihave never committed adultery with any man. Now, therefore, I ask you topity me. I will build you a lodge. Let my son survive. Bring him back tohealth, so that I may build this lodge for you."

The vow to build the Medicine Lodge is repeated in a loud voice, outsideher lodge, so that all the people may hear it, and if any man can impeachthe woman, he is obliged to speak out, in which case she could be punishedaccording to the law. The Medicine Lodge is always built in summer, at theseason of the ripening of the sarvis berries, and if, before this time, theperson for whom the vow is made dies, the woman is not obliged to fulfilher vow. She is regarded with suspicion, and it is generally believed thatshe has been guilty of the crime she disavowed. As this cannot be proved,however, she is not punished.

When the time approaches for the building of the lodge, a suitable localityis selected, and all the people move to it, putting up their lodges in acircle about it. In the meantime, at least a hundred buffalo tongues havebeen collected, cut, and dried by the woman who may be called the MedicineLodge woman. No one but she is allowed to take part in this work.

Before the tongues are cut and dried, they are laid in a pile in themedicine woman's lodge. She then gives a feast to the old men, and one ofthem, noted for his honesty, and well liked by all, repeats a very longprayer, asking in substance that the coming Medicine Lodge may beacceptable to the Sun, and that he will look with favor on the people, andwill give them good health, plenty of food, and success in war. A hundredsongs are then sung, each one different from the others. The feast andsinging of these songs lasts a day and a half.[Illustration: MEDICINELODGE]

Before the Medicine Lodge is erected, four large sweat lodges are built,all in a line, fronting to the east or toward the rising sun. Two stand infront of the Medicine Lodge, and two behind it. The two nearest theMedicine Lodge are built one day, and the others on the day following. Thesticks for the framework of these lodges are cut only by renowned warriors,each warrior cutting one, and, as he brings it in and lays it down, hecounts a coup, which must be of some especially brave deed. The old menthen take the sticks and erect the lodges, placing on top of each a buffaloskull, one half of which is painted red, the other black, to represent dayand night, or rather the sun and the moon. When the lodges are finished andthe stones heated, the warriors go in to sweat, and with them the medicinepipe men, who offer up prayers.

While this is going on, the young men cut the centre post for the MedicineLodge, and all the other material for its construction. The women then packout the post and the poles on horses, followed by the men shouting,singing, and shooting.

In the morning of this day the medicine woman begins a fast, which mustlast four days and four nights, with only one intermission, as will shortlyappear. During that time she may not go out of doors, except between sunsetand sunrise. During the whole ceremony her face, hands, and clothing arecovered with the sacred red paint.

When all the material has been brought to the spot where the lodge is to beerected, that warrior who, during the previous year, has done the mostcutting and stabbing in battle is selected to cut the rawhide to bind it,and while he cuts the strings he counts three coups.

The centre post is now placed on the ground, surrounded by the poles andother smaller posts; and two bands of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi, the Braves,and the All Crazy Dogs approach. Each band sings four songs, and then theyraise the lodge amid the shouting of the people. It is said that, in oldtimes, all the bands of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi took part in thisceremony. For raising the centre post, which is very heavy, lodge poles aretied in pairs, with rawhide, so as to form "shears," each pair beinghandled by two men. If one of the ropes binding the shears breaks, the menwho hold the pair are said to be unlucky; it is thought that they are soonto die. As soon as the centre post is up, the wall posts are erected, andthe roof of poles put on, the whole structure being covered with brush. Thedoor-way faces east or southeast, and the lodge is circular in shape, aboutforty feet in diameter, with walls about seven feet high.

Inside the Medicine Lodge, at the back, or west side, in the principalplace in the lodge, is now built a little box-shaped house, about sevenfeet high, six feet long, and four wide. It is made of brush, so tightlywoven that one cannot see inside of it. This is built by a medicine man,the high priest of this ceremony, who, for four days, the duration of theceremony, neither eats nor goes out of it in the daytime. The people cometo him, two at a time, and he paints them with black, and makes for them anearnest prayer to the Sun, that they may have good health, long lives, andgood food and shelter. This man is supposed to have power over the rain. Asrain would interfere with the ceremonies, he must stop it, if it threatens.

In the meantime, the sacred dried tongues have been placed in the MedicineLodge. The next morning, the Medicine Lodge woman leaves her own lodge,and, walking very slowly with bowed head, and praying at every step, sheenters the Medicine Lodge, and, standing by the pile of tongues, she cutsup one of them and holds it toward heaven, offering it to the Sun; then sheeats a part of it and buries the rest in the dirt, praying to the GroundMan, and calling him to bear witness that she has not defiled his body bycommitting adultery. She then proceeds to cut up the tongues, giving a verysmall piece to every person, man, woman, or child. Each one first holds itup to the Sun, and then prays to the Sun, Na'-pi, and the Ground Man forlong life, concluding by depositing a part of the morsel of tongue on theground, saying, "I give you this sacred tongue to eat." And now, during thefour days, outside the lodge, goes on the counting of the coups. Eachwarrior in turn recounts his success in war,—his battles or hishorse-takings. With a number of friends to help him, he goes through apantomime of all these encounters, showing how he killed this enemy, took agun from that one, or cut horses loose from the lodge of another. When hehas concluded, an old man offers a prayer, and ends by giving him a newname, saying that he hopes he will live well and long under it.

Inside the lodge, rawhide ropes are suspended from the centre post, andhere the men fulfil the vows that they have made during the previousyear. Some have been sick, or in great danger at war, and they then vowedthat if they were permitted to live, or escape, they would swing at theMedicine Lodge. Slits are cut in the skin of their breast, ropes passedthrough and secured by wooden skewers, and then the men swing and surgeuntil the skin gives way and tears out. This is very painful, and somefairly shriek with agony as they do it, but they never give up, for theybelieve that if they should fail to fulfil their vow, they would soon die.

On the fourth day every one has been prayed for, every one has made to theSun his or her present, which is tied to the centre post, the sacredtongues have all been consumed, and the ceremony ends, every one feelingbetter, assured of long life and plenty.

Most persons have an entirely erroneous idea of the purpose of this annualceremony. It has been supposed that it was for the purpose of makingwarriors. This is not true. It was essentially a religious festival,undertaken for the bodily and spiritual welfare of the people according totheir beliefs. Incidentally, it furnished an opportunity for the rehearsalof daring deeds. But among no tribes who practised it were warriors made byit. The swinging by the breast and other self-torturings were but thefulfilment of vows, sacred promises made in time of danger, penancesperformed, and not, as many believe, an occasion for young men to testtheir courage.

From the Indians of the tribe, the Medicine Lodge woman receives a veryhigh measure of respect and consideration. Blackfoot men have said to me,"We look on the Medicine Lodge woman as you white people do on the RomanCatholic sisters." Not only is she virtuous in deed, but she must beserious and clean-minded. Her conversation must be sober.

Before the coming of the whites, the Blackfeet used to smoke the leaves ofa plant which they call na-wuh'-to-ski, and which is said to have beenreceived long, long ago from a medicine beaver. It was used unmixed withany other plant. The story of how this came to the tribe is toldelsewhere.[1] This tobacco is no longer planted by the Piegans, nor by theBloods, though it is said that an old Blackfoot each year still goesthrough the ceremony, and raises a little. The plant grows about teninches high and has a long seed stalk growing from the centre. White Calf,the chief of the Piegans, has the secrets of the tobacco and is perhaps theonly person in the tribe who knows them. From him I have received thefollowing account of the ceremonies connected with it:—

[Footnote 1: The Beaver Medicine, p. 117.]

Early in the spring, after the last snow-storm, when the flowers begin tobud (early in the month of May), the women and children go into the timberand prepare a large bed, clearing away the underbrush, weeds and grass andleaves and sticks, raking the ground till the earth is thoroughlypulverized. Elk, deer, and mountain sheep droppings are collected, poundedfine, and mixed with the seed which is to be sown.

On the appointed day all the men gather at the bed. Each one holds in hishand a short, sharp-pointed stick, with which to make a hole in theground. The men stand in a row extending across the bed. At a signal theymake the holes in the ground, and drop in some seed, with some sacredsarvis berries. The tobacco song is sung by the medicine men, all take ashort step forward, make another hole, a foot in front of the last, andthen drop in it some more seed. Another song is sung, another step taken,and seed is again planted; and this continues until the line of men hasmoved all the way across the bed, and the planting is completed. Thetobacco dance follows the planting.

After the seed has been planted, they leave it and go off after thebuffalo. While away during the summer, some important man—one of themedicine men who had taken part in the planting—announces to the peoplehis purpose to go back to look after the crop. He starts, and after he hasreached the place, he builds a little fire in the bed, and offers a prayerfor the crop, asking that it may survive and do well. Then he pulls up oneof the plants, which he takes back with him and shows to the people, sothat all may see how the crop is growing. He may thus visit the place threeor four times in the course of the summer.

From time to time, while they are absent from the tobacco patch in summer,moving about after the buffalo, the men gather in some lodge to perform aspecial ceremony for the protection of the crop. Each man holds in his handa little stick. They sing and pray to the Sun and Old Man, asking that thegrasshoppers and other insects may not eat their plants. At the end of eachsong they strike the ground with their sticks, as if killing grasshoppersand worms. It has sometimes happened that a young man has said that he doesnot believe that these prayers and songs protect the plants, that the Sundoes not send messengers to destroy the worms. To such a one a medicineman will say, "Well, you can go to the place and see for yourself." Theyoung man gets on his horse and travels to the place. When he comes to theedge of the patch and looks out on it, he sees many small children at workthere, killing worms. He has not believed in this before, but now he goesback convinced. Such a young man does not live very long.

At length the season comes for gathering the crop, and, at a timeappointed, all the camps begin to move back toward the tobacco patch,timing their marches so that all may reach it on the same day. When theyget there, they camp near it, but no one visits it except the head man ofthe medicine men who took charge of the planting. This man goes to the bed,gathers a little of the plant, and returns to the camp.

A small boy, six or eight years old, is selected to carry this plant to thecentre of the circle. The man who gathered the tobacco ties it to a littlestick, and, under the tobacco, to the stick he ties a baby's moccasin. Thelittle boy carries this stick to the centre of the camp, and stands it inthe ground in the middle of the circle, the old man accompanying him andshowing him where to put it. It is left there all night. The next day thereis a great feast, and the kettles of food are all brought to the centre ofthe camp. The people all gather there, and a prayer is made. Then they singthe four songs which belong especially to this festival. The first andfourth are merely airs without words; the second has words, the purport ofwhich is, "The sun goes with us." The third song says, "Hear yourchildren's prayer." After the ceremony is over, every one is at liberty togo and gather the tobacco. It is dried and put in sacks for use during theyear. The seed is collected for the next planting. When they reach thepatch, if the crop is good, every one is glad. After the gathering, theyall move away again after the buffalo.

Sometimes a man who was lazy, and had planted no tobacco, would go secretlyto the patch, and pull a number of plants belonging to some one else, andhide them for his own use. Now, in these prayers that they offer, they donot ask for mercy for thieves. A man who had thus taken what did not belongto him would have a lizard appear to him in a dream, and then he would fallsick and die. The medicine men would know of all this, but they would notdo anything. They would just let him die.

This tobacco was given us by the one who made us.

The Blackfoot cosmology is imperfect and vague, and I have been able toobtain nothing like a complete account of it, for I have found no one whoappeared to know the story of the beginning of all things.

Some of the Blackfeet now say that originally there was a great womb, inwhich were conceived the progenitors of all animals now on earth. Amongthese was Old Man. As the time for their birth drew near, the animals usedto quarrel as to which should be the first to be born, and one day, in afierce struggle about this, the womb burst, and Old Man jumped first to theground. For this reason, he named all the animals Nis-kum'-iks, YoungBrothers; and they, because he was the first-born, called him Old Man.

There are several different accounts of the creation of the people by Old
Man. One is that he married a female dog, and that their progeny were the
first people. Others, and the ones most often told, have been given in the
Old Man stories already related.

There is an account of the creation which is essentially an Algonquin myth,and is told by most of the tribes of this stock from the Atlantic to theRocky Mountains, though the hero is variously named. Here is the Blackfootversion of it:—

In the beginning, all the land was covered with water, and Old Man and allthe animals were floating around on a large raft. One day Old Man told thebeaver to dive and try to bring up a little mud. The beaver went down, andwas gone a long time, but could not reach the bottom. Then the loon tried,and the otter, but the water was too deep for them. At last the muskratdived, and he was gone so long that they thought he had drowned, but hefinally came up, almost dead, and when they pulled him on to the raft, theyfound, in one of his paws, a little mud. With this, Old Man formed theworld, and afterwards he made the people.

This myth, while often related by the Blackfoot tribe, is seldom heardamong the Bloods or Piegans. It is uncertain whether all three tribes usedto know it, but have forgotten it, or whether it has been learned incomparatively modern times by the Blackfeet from the Crees, with whom theyhave always had more frequent intercourse and a closer connection than theother two tribes.

There is also another version of the origin of death. When Old Man made thefirst people, he gave them very strong bodies, and for a long time no onewas sick. At last, a little child fell ill. Each day it grew weaker andweaker, and at last it fainted. Then the mother went to Old Man, and prayedhim to do something for it.

"This," said Old Man, "will be the first time it has happened to thepeople. You have seen the buffalo fall to the ground when struck with anarrow. Their hearts stop beating, they do not breathe, and soon theirbodies become cold. They are then dead. Now, woman, it shall be for you todecide whether death shall come to the people as well as to the otheranimals, or whether they shall live forever. Come now with me to theriver."

When they reached the water's edge, Old Man picked up from the ground a drybuffalo chip and a stone. "Now, woman," he said, "you will tell me whichone of these to throw into the water. If what I throw floats, your childshall live; the people shall live forever. If it sinks, then your childshall die, and all the people shall die, each one when his time comes."

The woman stood still a long time, looking from the stone to the buffalochip, and from the chip to the stone. At last she said, "Throw the stone."Then Old Man tossed it into the river, and it sank to the bottom. "Woman,"he cried, "go home; your child is dead." Thus, on account of a foolishwoman, we all must die.

The shadow of a person, the Blackfeet say, is his soul. Northeast of theSweet Grass Hills, near the international boundary line, is a bleak, sandycountry called the Sand Hills, and there all the shadows of the deceasedgood Blackfeet are congregated. The shadows of those who in this world ledwicked lives are not allowed to go there. After death, these wicked personstake the shape of ghosts (Sta-au'[1]), and are compelled ever after toremain near the place where they died. Unhappy themselves, they envy thosewho are happy, and continually prowl about the lodges of the living,seeking to do them some injury. Sometimes they tap on the lodge skins andwhistle down the smoke hole, but if the fire is burning within they willnot enter.

[Footnote 1: The human skeleton is also called Sta-au', i.e.ghost. Compare Cheyenne Mis-tai', ghost.]

Outside in the dark they do much harm, especially the ghosts of enemies whohave been killed in battle. These sometimes shoot invisible arrows intopersons, causing sickness and death. They have hit people on the head,causing them to become crazy. They have paralyzed people's limbs, and drawntheir faces out of shape, and done much other harm. Ghosts walk above theground, not on it. An example of this peculiarity is seen in the case ofthe young man who visited the lodge of the starving family, in the storyentitled Origin of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi.

Ghosts sometimes speak to people. An instance of this is the following,which occurred to my friend Young Bear Chief, and which he related tome. He said: "I once went to war, and took my wife with me. I went toBuffalo Lip Butte, east of the Cypress Mountains; a little creek runs byit. I took eighteen horses from an Assinaboine camp one night, when it wasvery foggy. I found sixteen horses feeding on the hills, and went into thecamp and cut loose two more. Then we went off with the horses. When westarted, it was so foggy that I could not see the stars, and I did not knowwhich way to run. I kept travelling in what I supposed was the directiontoward home, but I did not know where I was going. After we had gone a longway, I stopped and got off my horse to fix my belt. My wife did notdismount, but sat there waiting for me to mount and ride on.

"I spoke to my wife, and said to her, 'We don't know which way to go.' Avoice spoke up right behind me and said: 'It is well; you go ahead. You aregoing right.' When I heard the voice, the top of my head seemed to lift upand felt as if a lot of needles were sticking into it. My wife, who wasright in front of me, was so frightened that she fainted and fell off herhorse, and it was a long time before she came to. When she got so she couldride, we went on, and when morning came I found that we were goingstraight, and were on the west side of the West Butte of the Sweet GrassHills. We got home all right. This must have been a ghost."

Now and then among the Blackfeet, we find evidences of a belief that thesoul of a dead person may take up its abode in the body of an animal. Anexample of this is seen in the story of E-k[=u]s'-kini, p. 90. Owls arethought to be the ghosts of medicine men.

The Blackfeet do not consider the Sand Hills a happy hunting ground. Therethe dead, who are themselves shadows, live in shadow lodges, hunt shadowbuffalo, go to war against shadow enemies, and in every way lead anexistence which is but a mimicry of this life. In this respect theBlackfeet are almost alone. I know of scarcely any other American tribe,certainly none east of the Rocky Mountains, who are wholly without a beliefin a happy future state. The Blackfeet do not especially say that thisfuture life is an unhappy one, but, from the way in which they speak of it,it is clear that for them it promises nothing desirable. It is amonotonous, never ending, and altogether unsatisfying existence,—a life asbarren and desolate as the country which the ghosts inhabit. These peopleare as much attached to life as we are. Notwithstanding the unhappy dayswhich have befallen them of late years,—days of privation andhunger,—they cling to life. Yet they seem to have no fear of death. Whentheir time comes, they accept their fate without a murmur, and tranquilly,quietly pass away.

MEDICINE PIPES AND HEALING

The person whom the whites term "medicine man" is called by the BlackfeetNi-namp'-skan. Mr. Schultz believes this word to be compounded ofnin'nah, man, and namp'-ski, horned toad (Phrynosoma), and in this heis supported by Mr. Thomas Bird, a very intelligent half-breed, who hastranslated a part of the Bible into the Blackfoot language for theRev. S. Trivett, a Church of England missionary. These gentlemen concludethat the word means "all-face man." The horned toad is called namp'-ski,all-face; and as the medicine man, with his hair done up in a huge topknot,bore a certain resemblance to this creature, he was so named. No one amongthe Blackfeet appears to have any idea as to what the word means.

The medicine pipes are really only pipe stems, very long, and beautifullydecorated with bright-colored feathers and the fur of the weasel and otheranimals. It is claimed that these stems were given to the people long, longago, by the Sun, and that those who own them are regarded by him withspecial favor.

Formerly these stems were valued at from fifteen to thirty head of horses,and were bought and sold like any other property. When not in use, theywere kept rolled up in many thicknesses of fine tanned fur, and with themwere invariably a quantity of tobacco, a sacred whistle, two sacredrattles, and some dried sweet grass, and sweet pine needles.

In the daytime, in pleasant weather, these sacred bundles were hung out ofdoors behind the owners' lodges, on tripods. At night they were suspendedwithin, above the owners' seat It was said that if at any time a personshould walk completely around the lodge of a medicine man, some bad luckwould befall him. Inside the lodge, no one was allowed to pass between thefireplace and the pipe stem. No one but a medicine man and his head wifecould move or unroll the bundle. The man and his wife were obliged alwaysto keep their faces, hands, and clothing painted with nits'-i-san, a dullred paint, made by burning a certain clay found in the bad lands.

The Ni-namp'-skan appears to be a priest of the Sun, and prayers offeredthrough him are thought to be specially favored. So the sacred stem isfrequently unrolled for the benefit of the sick, for those who are about toundertake a dangerous expedition, such as a party departing to war, forprayers for the general health and prosperity of the people, and for abountiful supply of food. At the present time these ancient ceremonies havelargely fallen into disuse. In fact, since the disappearance of thebuffalo, most of the old customs are dying out.

The thunder is believed to bring the rain in spring, and the rain makes theberries grow. It is a rule that after the first thunder is heard in thespring, every medicine man must give a feast and offer prayers for a largeberry crop. I have never seen this ceremony, but Mr. Schultz was oncepermitted to attend one, and has given me the following account of it. Hesaid: "When I entered the lodge with the other guests, the pipe stem hadalready been unrolled. Before the fire were two huge kettles of cookedsarvis berries, a large bowlful of which was soon set before each guest.Each one, before eating, took a few of the berries and rubbed them into theground, saying, 'Take pity on us, all Above People, and give us good.'

"When all had finished eating, a large black stone pipe bowl was filled andfitted to the medicine stem, and the medicine man held it aloft and said:'Listen, Sun! Listen, Thunder! Listen, Old Man! All Above Animals, allAbove People, listen. Pity us! You will smoke. We fill the sacred pipe. Letus not starve. Give us rain during this summer. Make the berries large andsweet. Cover the bushes with them. Look down on us all and pity us. Lookat the women and the little children; look at us all. Let us reach oldage. Let our lives be complete. Let us destroy our enemies. Help the youngmen in battle. Man, woman, child, we all pray to you; pity us and give usgood. Let us survive.'

"He then danced the pipe dance, to be described further on. At this time,another storm had come up, and the thunder crashed directly over our heads.

"'Listen,' said the medicine man. 'It hears us. We are not doing thisuselessly'; and he raised his face, animated with enthusiasm, toward thesky, his whole body trembling with excitement; and, holding the pipe aloft,repeated his prayer. All the rest of the people were excited, andrepeatedly clasped their arms over their breasts, saying: 'Pity us; goodgive us; good give us. Let us survive.'

"After this, the pipe was handed to a man on the right of thesemi-circle. Another warrior took a lighted brand from the fire, andcounted four coups, at the end of each coup touching the pipe bowl withthe brand. When he had counted the fourth coup, the pipe was lighted. Itwas then smoked in turn around the circle, each one, as he received it,repeating a short prayer before he put the stem to his lips. When it wassmoked out, a hole was dug in the ground, the ashes were knocked into itand carefully covered over, and the thunder ceremony was ended."

In the year 1885, I was present at the unwrapping of the medicine pipe byRed Eagle, an aged Ni-namp'-skan since dead. On this occasion prayerswere made for the success of a party of Piegans who had started in pursuitof some Crows who had taken a large band of horses from the Piegans the daybefore. The ceremony was a very impressive one, and prayers were offerednot only for the success of this war party, but also for the general good,as well as for the welfare of special individuals, who were mentioned byname. The concluding words of the general prayer were as follows: "May allpeople have full life. Give to all heavy bodies. Let the young people grow;increase their flesh. Let all men, women, and children have full life.Harden the bodies of the old people so that they may reach great age."

In 1879, Mr. Schultz saw a sacred pipe unwrapped for the benefit of a sickwoman, and on various occasions since he has been present at thisceremony. All accounts of what takes place agree so closely with what I sawthat I give only one of them. Mr. Schultz wrote me of the first occasion:"When I entered the lodge, it was already well filled with men who had beeninvited to participate in the ceremony. The medicine man was aged andgray-headed, and his feeble limbs could scarcely support his body. Betweenhim and his wife was the bundle which contained the medicine pipe, as yetunwrapped, lying on a carefully folded buffalo robe. Plates of food wereplaced before each guest, and after all had finished eating, and a commonpipe had been lighted to be smoked around the circle, the ceremony began.

"With wooden tongs, the woman took a large coal from the fire, and laid iton the ground in front of the sacred stem. Then, while every one joined insinging a chant, a song of the buffalo (without words), she took a bunch ofdried sweet grass, and, raising and lowering her hand in time to the music,finally placed the grass on the burning coals. As the thin column ofperfumed smoke rose from the burning herb, both she and the medicine mangrasped handfuls of it and rubbed it over their persons, to purifythemselves before touching the sacred roll. They also took each a smallpiece of some root from a little pouch, and ate it, signifying that theypurified themselves without and within.

"The man and woman now faced each other and again began the buffalo song,keeping time by touching with the clenched hands—the right and leftalternately—the wrappings of the pipe, occasionally making the sign forbuffalo. Now, too, one could occasionally hear the word Nai-ai'[1] inthe song. After singing this song for about ten minutes, it was changed tothe antelope song, and, instead of touching the roll with the clenchedhands, which represented the heavy tread of buffalo, they closed the hands,leaving the index finger extended and the thumbs partly open, and in timeto the music, as in the previous song, alternately touched the wrapperswith the tips of the left and right forefinger, the motions being quick andfirm, and occasionally brought the hands to the side of the head, makingthe sign for antelope, and at the same time uttering a loud 'Kuh' torepresent the whistling or snorting of that animal.

[Footnote 1: My shelter; my covering; my robe.]

"At the conclusion of this song, the woman put another bunch of sweet grasson a coal, and carefully undid the wrappings of the pipe, holding each oneover the smoke to keep it pure. When the last wrapping was removed, the mangently grasped the stem and, every one beginning the pipe song, he raisedand lowered it several times, shaking it as he did so, until every featherand bit of fur and scalp hung loose and could be plainly seen.

"At this moment the sick woman entered the lodge, and with greatdifficulty, for she was very weak, walked over to the medicine woman andknelt down before her. The medicine woman then produced a small bag of redpaint, and painted a broad band across the sick woman's forehead, a stripedown the nose, and a number of round dots on each cheek. Then picking upthe pipe stem, which the man had laid down, she held it up toward the skyand prayed, saying, 'Listen, Sun, pity us! Listen, Old Man, pity us! AbovePeople, pity us! Under Water People, pity us! Listen, Sun! Listen, Sun! Letus survive, pity us! Let us survive. Look down on our sick daughter thisday. Pity her and give her a complete life.' At the conclusion of thisshort prayer, all the people uttered a loud m-m-m-h, signifying that theytook the words to their hearts. Every one now commenced the pipe song, andthe medicine woman passed the stem over different parts of the sick woman'sbody, after which she rose and left the lodge.

"The medicine man now took a common pipe which had been lighted, and blewfour whiffs of smoke toward the sky, four toward the ground, and four onthe medicine pipe stem, and prayed to the Sun, Old Man, and all medicineanimals, to pity the people and give them long life. The drums were thenproduced, the war song commenced, and the old man, with a rattle in eachhand, danced four times to the door-way and back. He stooped slightly, keptall his limbs very rigid, extending his arms like one giving a benediction,and danced in time to the drumming and singing with quick, suddensteps. This is the medicine pipe dance, which no one but a pipe-owner isallowed to perform. Afterward, he picked up the pipe stem, and, holding italoft in front of him, went through the same performance. At theconclusion of the dance, the pipe stem was passed from one to another ofthe guests, and each one in turn held it aloft and repeated a shortprayer. The man on my right prayed for the health of his children, the oneon my left for success in a proposed war expedition. This concluded theceremony."

Disease among the Blackfeet is supposed to be caused by evil spirits,usually the spirits or ghosts of enemies slain in battle. These spirits aresaid to wander about at night, and whenever opportunity offers, they shootinvisible arrows into persons. These cause various internal troubles, suchas consumption, hemorrhages, and diseases of the digestive organs. Mice,frogs, snakes, and tailed batrachians are said to cause much disease amongwomen, and hence should be shunned, and on no account handled.

Less important external ailments and hurts, such as ulcers, boils, sprains,and so on, are treated by applying various lotions or poultices, compoundedby boiling or macerating certain roots or herbs, known only to the personsupplying them. Rheumatic pains are treated in several ways. Sometimes thesweat lodge is used, or hot rocks are applied over the place where the painis most severe, or actual cautery is practised, by inserting prickly pearthorns in the flesh, and setting fire to them, when they burn to the verypoint.

The sweat lodge, so often referred to, is used as a curative agent, as wellas in religious ceremonies, and is considered very beneficial in illness ofall kinds. The sweat lodge is built in the shape of a rough hemisphere,three or four feet high and six or eight in diameter. The frame is usuallyof willow branches, and is covered with cow-skins and robes. In the centreof the floor, a small hole is dug out, in which are to be placed red hotstones. Everything being ready, those who are to take the sweat removetheir clothing and crowd into the lodge. The hot rocks are then handed infrom the fire outside, and the cowskins pulled down to the ground toexclude any cold air. If a medicine pipe man is not at hand, the oldestperson present begins to pray to the Sun, and at the same time sprinkleswater on the hot rocks, and a dense steam rises, making the perspirationfairly drip from the body. Occasionally, if the heat becomes too intense,the covering is raised for a few minutes to admit a little air. The sweatbath lasts for a long time, often an hour or more, during which manyprayers are offered, religious songs chanted, and several pipes smoked tothe Sun. As has been said, the sweat lodge is built to represent the Sun'sown lodge or home, that is, the world. The ground inside the lodge standsfor its surface, which, according to Blackfoot philosophy, is flat andround. The framework represents the sky, which far off, on the horizon,reaches down to and touches the world.

As soon as the sweat is over, the men rush out, and plunge into the streamto cool off. This is invariably done, even in winter, when the ice has tobe broken to make a hole large enough to bathe in. It is said that, whenthe small-pox was raging among these Indians, they used the sweat lodgedaily, and that hundreds of them, sick with the disease, were unable to getout of the river, after taking the bath succeeding a sweat, and werecarried down stream by the current and drowned.

It is said that wolves, which in former days were extremely numerous,sometimes went crazy, and bit every animal they met with, sometimes evencoming into camps and biting dogs, horses, and people. Persons bitten by amad wolf generally went mad, too. They trembled and their limbs jerked,they made their jaws work and foamed at the mouth, often trying to biteother people. When any one acted in this way, his relations tied him handand foot with ropes, and, having killed a buffalo, they rolled him up inthe green hide, and then built a fire on and around him, leaving him in thefire until the hide began to dry and burn. Then they pulled him out andremoved the buffalo hide, and he was cured. While in the fire, the greatheat caused him to sweat profusely, so much water coming out of his bodythat none was left in it, and with the water the disease went out, too.All the old people tell me that they have seen individuals cured in thismanner of a mad wolf's bite.

Whenever a person is really sick, a doctor is sent for. Custom requiresthat he shall be paid for his services before rendering them. So when he iscalled, the messenger says to him, "A—— presents to you a horse, andasks you to come and doctor him." Sometimes the fee may be several horses,and sometimes a gun, saddle, or some article of wearing-apparel. This feepays only for one visit, but the duration of the visit is seldom less thantwelve hours, and sometimes exceeds forty-eight. If, after the expirationof the visit, the patient feels that he has been benefited, he willprobably send for the doctor again, but if, on the other hand, he continuesto grow worse, he is likely to send for another. Not infrequently two ormore doctors may be present at the same time, taking turns with thepatient. In early days, if a man fell sick, and remained so for three weeksor a month, he had to start anew in life when he recovered; for, unlessvery wealthy, all his possessions had gone to pay doctor's fees. Often thelast horse, and even the lodge, weapons, and extra clothing were so partedwith. Of late years, however, since the disappearance of the buffalo, thedoctors' fees are much more moderate.

The doctor is named I-so-kin-[)u]h-kin, a word difficult totranslate. The nearest English meaning of the word seems to be "heavysinger for the sick." As a rule all doctors sing while endeavoring to worktheir cures, and, as helpers, a number of women are always present. Diseasebeing caused by evil spirits, prayers, exhortations, and certain mysteriousmethods must be observed to rid the patient of their influence. No twodoctors have the same methods or songs. Herbs are sometimes used, but notalways. One of their medicines is a great yellow fungus which grows on thepine trees. This is dried and powdered, and administered either dry or inan infusion. It is a purgative. As a rule, these doctors, while practisingtheir rites, will not allow any one in the lodge, except the immediatemembers of the sick man's family. Mr. Schultz, who on more than oneoccasion has been present at a doctoring, gives the following account ofone of the performances.

"The patient was a man in the last stages of consumption. When the doctorentered the lodge, he handed the sick man a strip of buckskin, and told himto tie it around his chest. The patient then reclined on a couch, strippedto the waist, and the doctor kneeled on the floor beside him. Havingcleared a little space of the loose dirt and dust, the doctor took twocoals from the fire, laid them in this place, and put a pinch of driedsweet grass on each of them. As the smoke arose from the burning grass, heheld his drum over it, turning it from side to side, and round andround. This was supposed to purify it. Laying aside the drum, he held hishands in the smoke, and rubbed his arms and body with it. Then, picking upthe drum, he began to tap it rapidly, and prayed, saying: 'Listen, mydream. This you told me should be done. This you said should be theway. You said it would cure the sick. Help me now. Do not lie to me. Helpme, Sun person. Help me to cure this sick man.'

"He then began to sing, and as soon as the women had caught the air, hehanded the drum to one of them to beat, and, still singing himself, took aneagle's wing and dipped the tip of it in a cup of 'medicine.' It was aclear liquid, and looked as if it might be simply water. Placing the tip ofthe wing in his mouth, he seemed to bite off the end of it, and, chewing ita little, spat it out on the patient's breast. Then, in time to thesinging, he brushed it gently off, beginning at the throat and ending atthe lower ribs. This was repeated three times. Next he took the bandagefrom the patient, dipped it in the cup of medicine, and, wringing it out,placed it on the sick man's chest, and rubbed it up and down, and back andforth, after which he again brushed the breast with the eaglewing. Finally, he lighted a pipe, and, placing the bowl in his mouth, blewthe smoke through the stem all over the patient's breast, shoulders, neck,and arms, and finished the ceremony by again brushing with the wing. Atintervals of two or three hours, the whole ceremony was repeated. Thedoctor arrived at the lodge of the sick man about noon, and left the nextmorning, having received for his services a saddle and two blankets."

"Listen, my dream—" This is the key to most of the Blackfoot medicinepractices. These doctors for the most part effect their cures byprayer. Each one has his dream, or secret helper, to whom he prays for aid,and it is by this help that he expects to restore his patient to health. Nodoubt the doctors have the fullest confidence that their practices arebeneficial, and in some cases they undoubtedly do good because of theimplicit confidence felt in them by the patient.

Often, when a person is sick, he will ask some medicine man to unroll hispipe. If able to dance, he will take part in the ceremony, but if not, themedicine man paints him with the sacred symbols. In any case a ferventprayer is offered by the medicine man for the sick person's recovery. Themedicine man administers no remedies; the ceremony is purelyreligious. Being a priest of the Sun, it is thought that god will be morelikely to listen to him than he would to an ordinary man.

Although the majority of Blackfoot doctors are men, there are also manywomen in the guild, and some of them are quite noted for theirsuccess. Such a woman, named Wood Chief Woman, is now alive on theBlackfoot reservation. She has effected many wonderful cures. Two BearWoman is a good doctor, and there are many others.

In the case of gunshot wounds a man's "dream," or "medicine," often actsdirectly and speedily. Many cases are cited in which this charm, often thestuffed skin of some bird or animal, belonging to the wounded man, becomesalive, and by its power effects a cure. Many examples of this might begiven but for lack of space. Entirely honest Indians and white men haveseen such cures and believe in them.

THE BLACKFOOT OF TO-DAY

In the olden times the Blackfeet were very numerous, and it is said thatthen they were a strong and hardy people, and few of them were eversick. Most of the men who died were killed in battle, or died of oldage. We may well enough believe that this was the case, because theconditions of their life in those primitive times were such that the weaklyand those predisposed to any constitutional trouble would not survive earlychildhood. Only the strongest of the children would grow up to become theparents of the next generation. Thus a process of selection was constantlygoing on, the effect of which was no doubt seen in the general health ofthe people.

With the advent of the whites, came new conditions. Various specialdiseases were introduced and swept off large numbers of the people. Animportant agent in their destruction was alcohol.

In the year 1845, the Blackfeet were decimated by the small-pox. Thisdisease appears to have travelled up the Missouri River; and in the earlyyears, between 1840 and 1850, it swept away hosts of Mandans, Rees, Sioux,Crows, and other tribes camped along the great river. I have been told, bya man who was employed at Fort Union in 1842-43, that the Indians diedthere in such numbers that the men of the fort were kept constantly at workdigging trenches in which to bury them, and when winter came, and theground froze so hard that it was no longer practicable to bury the dead,their bodies were stacked up like cord wood in great piles to await thecoming of spring. The disease spread from tribe to tribe, and finallyreached the Blackfeet. It is said by whites who were in the country at thetime, that this small-pox almost swept the Plains bare of Indians.

In the winter of 1857-58, small-pox again carried off great numbers, butthe mortality was not to be compared with that of 1845. In 1864, measlesran through all the Blackfoot camps, and was very fatal, and again in 1869they had the small-pox.

Between the years 1860 and 1875, a great deal of whiskey was traded to theBlackfeet. Having once experienced the delights of intoxication, theIndians were eager for liquor, and the traders found that robes and furscould be bought to better advantage for whiskey than for anything else. Tobe sure, the personal risk to the trader was considerably increased by thesale of whiskey, for when drunk the Indians fought like demons amongthemselves or with the traders. But, on the other hand, whiskey fortrading to Indians cost but a trifle, and could be worked up, and thendiluted, so that a little would go a long way.

As a measure of partial self-protection, the traders used to deal out theliquor from the keg or barrel in a tin scoop so constructed that it wouldnot stand on a flat surface, so that an Indian, who was drinking, had tokeep the vessel in his hand until the liquor was consumed, or else it wouldbe spilled and lost. This lessened the danger of any shooting or stabbingwhile the Indian was drinking, and an effort was usually made to get himout of the store as soon as he had finished. Nevertheless, drunken fightsin the trading-stores were of common occurrence, and the life of awhiskey-trader was one of constant peril. I have talked with many men whowere engaged in this traffic, and some of the stories they tell arethrilling. It was a common thing in winter for the man who unbarred andopened the store in the morning to have a dead Indian fall into his arms asthe door swung open. To prop up against the door a companion who had beenkilled or frozen to death during the night seems to have been regarded bythe Indians as rather a delicate bit of humor, in the nature of a joke onthe trader. Long histories of the doings of these whiskey trading days havebeen related to me, but the details are too repulsive to be set down. Thetraffic was very fatal to the Indians.

The United States has laws which prohibit, under severe penalties, the saleof intoxicants to Indians, but these laws are seldom enforced. To the northof the boundary line, however, in the Northwest Territories, the CanadianMounted Police have of late years made whiskey-trading perilousbusiness. Of Major Steell's good work in putting down the whiskey trafficon the Blackfoot agency in Montana, I shall speak further on, and to-daythere is not very much whiskey sold to the Blackfeet. Constant vigilance isneeded, however, to keep traders from the borders of the reservation.

In the winter of 1883-84 more than a quarter of the Piegan tribe of theBlackfeet, which then numbered about twenty-five or twenty-six hundred,died from starvation. It had been reported to the Indian Bureau that theBlackfeet were practically self-supporting and needed few supplies. As aconsequence of this report, appropriations for them were small. Thestatement was entirely and fatally misleading. The Blackfeet had thennever done anything toward self-support, except to kill buffalo. But justbefore this, in the year 1883, the buffalo had been exterminated from theBlackfoot country. In a moment, and without warning, the people had beendeprived of the food supply on which they had depended. At once they hadturned their attention to the smaller game, and, hunting faithfully theriver bottoms, the brush along the small streams, and the sides of themountains, had killed off all the deer, elk, and antelope; and at thebeginning of the winter found themselves without their usual stores ofdried meat, and with nothing to depend on, except the scanty supplies inthe government storehouse. These were ridiculously inadequate to the wantsof twenty-five hundred people, and food could be issued to them only indriblets quite insufficient to sustain life. The men devoted themselveswith the utmost faithfulness to hunting, killing birds, rabbits,prairie-dogs, rats, anything that had life; but do the best they might, thepeople began to starve. The very old and the very young were the first toperish; after that, those who were weak and sickly, and at last some evenamong the strong and hardy. News of this suffering was sent East, andCongress ordered appropriations to relieve the distress; but the supplieshad to be freighted in wagons for one hundred and fifty or two hundredmiles before they were available. If the Blackfeet had been obliged todepend on the supplies authorized by the Indian Bureau, the whole tribemight have perished, for the red tape methods of the Government are notadapted to prompt and efficient action in times of emergency. Happily, helpwas nearer at hand. The noble people of Montana, and the army officersstationed at Fort Shaw, did all they could to get supplies to thesufferers. One or two Montana contractors sent on flour and bacon, on thepersonal assurance of the newly appointed agent that he would try to havethem paid. But it took a long time to get even these supplies to theagency, over roads sometimes hub deep in mud, or again rough with greatmasses of frozen clay; and all the time the people were dying.

During the winter, Major Allen had been appointed agent for the Blackfeet,and he reached the agency in the midst of the worst suffering, and beforeany effort had been made to relieve it. He has told me a heart-rendingstory of the frightful suffering which he found among these helplesspeople.

In his efforts to learn exactly what was their condition, Major Allen oneday went into twenty-three houses and lodges to see for himself just whatthe Indians had to eat. In only two of these homes did he find anything inthe shape of food. In one house a rabbit was boiling in a pot. The man hadkilled it that morning, and it was being cooked for a starving child. Inanother lodge, the hoof of a steer was cooking,—only the hoof,—to makesoup for the family. Twenty-three lodges Major Allen visited that day, andthe little rabbit and the steer's hoof were all the food he found. "Andthen," he told me, with tears in his eyes, "I broke down. I could go nofurther. To see so much misery, and feel myself utterly powerless torelieve it, was more than I could stand."

Major Allen had calculated with exactest care the supplies on hand, and atthis time was issuing one-seventh rations. The Indians crowded around theagency buildings and begged for food. Mothers came to the windows and heldup their starving babies that the sight of their dull, pallid faces, theirshrunken limbs, and their little bones sticking through their skins mightmove some heart to pity. Women brought their young daughters to the whitemen in the neighborhood, and said, "Here, you may have her, if you willfeed her; I want nothing for myself; only let her have enough to eat, thatshe may not die." One day, a deputation of the chiefs came to Major Allen,and asked him to give them what he had in his storehouses. He explained tothem that it must be some time before the supplies could get there, andthat only by dealing out what he had with the greatest care could thepeople be kept alive until provisions came. But they said: "Our women andchildren are hungry, and we are hungry. Give us what you have, and let useat once and be filled. Then we will die content; we will not beg anymore." He took them into the storehouse, and showed them just what food hehad,—how much flour, how much bacon, how much rice, coffee, sugar, and soon through the list—and then told them that if this was issued all atonce, there was no hope for them, they would surely die, but that heexpected supplies by a certain day. "And," said he, "if they do not come bythat time, you shall come in here and help yourselves. That I promiseyou." They went away satisfied.

Meanwhile, the supplies were drawing near. The officer in command of FortShaw had supplied fast teams to hurry on a few loads to the agency, but theroads were so bad that the wagon trains moved with appalling slowness. Atlength, however, they had advanced so far that it was possible to send outlight teams, to meet the heavily laden ones, and bring in a few sacks offlour and bacon; and every little helped. Gradually the suffering wasrelieved, but the memory of that awful season of famine will never passfrom the minds of those who witnessed it.

There is a record of between four and five hundred Indians who died ofhunger at this time, and this includes only those who were buried in theimmediate neighborhood of the agency and for whom coffins were made. It isprobable that nearly as many more died in the camps on other creeks, butthis is mere conjecture. It is no exaggeration to say, however, that fromone-quarter to one-third of the Piegan tribe starved to death during thatwinter and the following spring.

The change from living in portable and more or less open lodges topermanent dwellings has been followed by a great deal of illness, and atpresent the people appear to be sickly, though not so much so as some othertribes I have known, living under similar conditions further south.

Like other Indians, the Blackfeet have been several times a prey to badagents,—men careless of their welfare, who thought only about drawingtheir own pay, or, worse, who used their positions simply for their ownenrichment, and stole from the government and Indians alike everything uponwhich they could lay hands. It was with great satisfaction that I securedthe discharge of one such man a few years ago, and I only regret that itwas not in my power to have carried the matter so far that he might havespent a few years in prison.

The present agent of the Blackfeet, Major George Steell, is an old-timer inthe country and understands Indians very thoroughly. In one respect, he hasdone more for this people than any other man who has ever had charge ofthem, for he has been an uncompromising enemy of the whiskey traffic, andhas relentlessly pursued the white men who always gather about an agency tosell whiskey to the Indians, and thus not only rob them of theirpossessions, but degrade them as well. The prison doors of Deer Lodge havemore than once opened to receive men sent there through the energy of MajorSteell. For the good work he has done in this respect, this gentlemandeserves the highest credit, and he is a shining example among Indianagents.

As recently as 1887 it was rather unusual to see a Blackfoot Indian clad inwhite men's clothing; the only men who wore coats and trousers were thepolice and a few of the chiefs; to-day it is quite as unusual to see anIndian wearing a blanket. Not less striking than this difference in theirway of life, is the change which has taken place in the spirit of thetribe.

I was passing through their reservation in 1888, when the chiefs asked meto meet them in council and listen to what they had to say.

I learned that they wished to have a message taken to the Great Father inthe East, and, after satisfying myself that their complaint was wellgrounded, I promised to do for them what I could. I accomplished what theydesired, and since that time I have taken much active interest in thispeople, and my experience with them has shown me very clearly how much maybe accomplished by the unaided efforts of a single individual whothoroughly understands the needs of a tribe of Indians. During my annualvisits to the Blackfeet reservation, which have extended over two, three,or four months each season, I see a great many of the men and have longconversations with them. They bring their troubles to me, asking what theyshall do, and how their condition may be improved. They tell me what thingsthey want, and why they think they ought to have them. I listen, and talkto them just as if they were so many children. If their requests areunreasonable, I try to explain to them, step by step, why it is not bestthat what they desire should be done, or tell them that other things whichthey ask for seem proper, and that I will do what I can to have themgranted. If one will only take the pains necessary to make things clear tohim, the adult Indian is a reasonable being, but it requires patience tomake him understand matters which to a white man would need noexplanation. As an example, let me give the substance of a conversation hadlast autumn with a leading man of the Piegans who lives on Cut Bank River,about twenty-five miles from the agency. He said to me:—

"We ought to have a storehouse over here on Cut Bank, so that we will notbe obliged each week to go over to the agency to get our food. It takes usa day to go, and a day to come, and a day there; nearly three days out ofevery week to get our food. When we are at work cutting hay, we cannotafford to spend so much time travelling back and forth. We want to get ourcrops in, and not to be travelling about all the time. It would be a goodthing, too, to have a blacksmith shop here, so that when our wagons breakdown, we will not have to go to the agency to get them mended."

This is merely the substance of a much longer speech, to which I replied bya series of questions, something like the following:—

"Do you remember talking to me last year, and telling me on this same spotthat you ought to have beef issued to you here, and ought not to have tomake the long journey to the agency for your meat?" "Yes."

"And that I told you I agreed with you, and believed that some of thesteers could just as well be killed here by the agency herder and issued tothose Indians living near here?" "Yes."

"That change has been made, has it not? You now get your beef here, don'tyou?" "Yes."

"You know that the Piegans have a certain amount of money coming to themevery year, don't you?" "Yes."

"And that some of that money goes to pay the expenses of the agency, somefor food, some to pay clerks and blacksmiths, some to buy mowing-machines,wagons, harness, and rakes, and some to buy the cattle which have beenissued to you?" "Yes."

"Now, if a government storehouse were to be built over here, clerks hiredto manage it, a blacksmith shop built and another blacksmith hired, thatwould all cost money, wouldn't it?" "Yes."

"And that money would be taken out of the money coming next year to the
Piegans, wouldn't it?" "Yes."

"And if that money were spent for those things, the people would have justso many fewer wagons, mowing-machines, rakes, and cattle issued to themnext year, wouldn't they?" "Yes."

"Well, which would be best for the tribe, which would you rather have, astore and a blacksmith shop here on Cut Bank, or the money which thosethings would cost in cows and farming implements?"

"I would prefer that we should have the cattle and the tools."

"I think you are right. It would save trouble to each man, if thegovernment would build a storehouse for him right next his house, but itwould be a waste of money. Many white men have to drive ten, twenty, orthirty miles to the store, and you ought not to complain if you have to doso."

After this conversation the man saw clearly that his request was anunreasonable one, but if I had merely told him that he was a fool to want astore on Cut Bank, he would never have been satisfied, for his experienceswere so limited that he could not have reasoned the thing out for himself.

In my talks with these people, I praise those who have worked hard andlived well during the past year, while to those who have been idle ordrunken or have committed crimes, I explain how foolish their course hasbeen and try to show them how impossible it is for a man to be successfulif he acts like a child, and shows that he is a person of no sense. Alittle quiet talk will usually demonstrate to them that they have beenunwise, and they make fresh resolutions and promise amendment. Of coursethe only argument I use is to tell them that one course will be for theirmaterial advancement, and is the way a white man would act, while the otherwill tend to keep them always poor.

Some years ago, the Blackfeet made a new treaty, by which they sold to thegovernment a large portion of their lands. By this treaty, which wasratified by Congress in May, 1887, they are to receive $150,000 annuallyfor a period of ten years, when government support is to be withdrawn. Thissum is a good deal more than is required for their subsistence, and, by theterms of the treaty, the surplus over what is required for their food andclothing is to be used in furnishing to the Indians farming implements,seed, live stock, and such other things as will help them to becomeself-supporting.

The country which the Blackfeet inhabit lies just south of the parallel of49°, close to the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and is very cold anddry. Crops can be grown there successfully not more than once in four orfive years, and the sole products to be depended on are oats and potatoes,which are raised only by means of irrigation. It is evident, therefore,that the Piegan tribe of the Blackfeet can never become an agriculturalpeople. Their reservation, however, is well adapted to stock-raising, andin past years the cattlemen from far and from near have driven their herdson to the reservation to eat the Blackfoot grass; and the remonstrances ofthe Indians have been entirely disregarded. Some years ago, I came to theconclusion that the proper occupation for these Indians wasstock-raising. Horses they already had in some numbers, but horses are notso good for them as cattle, because horses are more readily sold thancattle, and an Indian is likely to trade his horse for whiskey and otheruseless things. Cattle they are much less likely to part with, and besidesthis, require more attention than horses, and so are likely to keep theIndians busy and to encourage them to work.

Within the past three or four years, I have succeeded in inducing theIndian Bureau to employ a part of the treaty money coming to the Blackfeetin purchasing for them cattle.

It was impressed upon them that they must care for the cattle, not kill andeat any of them, but keep them for breeding purposes. It was represented tothem that, if properly cared for, the cattle would increase each year,until a time might come when each Indian would be the possessor of a herd,and would then be rich like the white cattlemen.

The severe lesson of starvation some years before had not failed to make animpression, and it was perhaps owing to this terrible experience that thePiegans did not eat the cows as soon as they got them, as other Indiantribes have so often done. Instead of this, each man took the utmost careof the two or three heifers he received. Little shelters and barns werebuilt to protect them during the winter. Indians who had never workedbefore, now tried to borrow a mowing-machine, so as to put up some hay fortheir animals. The tribe seemed at once to have imbibed the idea ofproperty, and each man was as fearful lest some accident should happen tohis cows as any white man might have been. Another issue of cattle wasmade, and the result is that now there is hardly an individual in the tribewho is not the possessor of one or more cows. Scarcely any of the issuedcattle have been eaten; there has been almost no loss from lack of care;the original stock has increased and multiplied, and now the Piegans have apretty fair start in cattle.

This material advancement is important and encouraging. But richer stillis the promise for the future. A few years ago, the Blackfeet were allpaupers, dependent on the bounty of the government and the caprice of theagent. Now, they feel themselves men, are learning self-help andself-reliance, and are looking forward to a time when they shall beself-supporting. If their improvement should be as rapid for the next fiveyears as it has been for the five preceding 1892, a considerable portion ofthe tribe will be self-supporting at the date of expiration of the treaty.

It is commonly believed that the Indian is hopelessly lazy, and that hewill do no work whatever. This misleading notion has been fostered by thewritings of many ignorant people, extending over a long period of time. Theerror had its origin in the fact that the work which the savage Indian doesis quite different from that performed by the white laborer. But it iscertain that no men ever worked harder than Indians on a journey to war,during which they would march on foot hundreds of miles, carrying heavyloads on their backs, then have their fight, or take their horses, andperhaps ride for several days at a stretch, scarcely stopping to eat orrest. That they did not labor regularly is of course true, but when theydid work, their toil was very much harder than that ever performed by thewhite man.

The Blackfeet now are willing to work in the same way that the white manworks. They appreciate, as well as any one, the fact that old things havepassed away, and that they must now adapt themselves to new surroundings.Therefore, they work in the hay fields, tend stock, chop logs in themountains, haul firewood, drive freighting teams, build houses and fences,and, in short, do pretty much all the work that would be done by anordinary ranchman. They do not perform it so well as white men would; theyare much more careless in their handling of tools, wagons, mowing-machines,or other implements, but they are learning all the time, even if theirprogress is slow.

The advance toward civilization within the past five years is veryremarkable and shows, as well as anything could show, the adaptability ofthe Indian. At the same time, I believe that if it had not been for thatfateful experience known as "the starvation winter," the progress made bythe Blackfeet would have been very much less than it has been. The Indianrequires a bitter lesson to make him remember.

But besides this lesson, which at so terrible a cost demonstrated to himthe necessity of working, there has been another factor in the progress ofthe Blackfoot. If he has learned the lesson of privation and suffering, therecord given in these pages has shown that he is not less ready to respondto encouragement, not less quickened and sustained by friendlysympathy. Without such encouragement he will not persevere. If his cropsfail him this year, he has no heart to plant the next. A single failurebrings despair. Yet if he is cheered and helped, he will make otherefforts. The Blackfeet have been thus sustained; they have felt that therewas an inducement for them to do well, for some one whom they trusted wasinterested in their welfare, was watching their progress, and was trying tohelp them. They knew that this person had no private interest to serve, butwished to do the best that he could for his people. Having an exaggeratedidea of his power to aid them, they have tried to follow his advice, so asto obtain his good-will and secure his aid with the government. Thus theyhave had always before them a definite object to strive for.

The Blackfoot of to-day is a working man. He has a little property which heis trying to care for and wishes to add to. With a little help, withinstruction, and with encouragement to persevere, he will become in thenext few years self-supporting, and a good citizen.

INDEX

Above Persons,Adoption of captives,Adultery, penalty for,Adventure, Stories of,Adventures of Bull Turns Round,Affirmation, solemn form of,Ah-kaik'-sum-iksAh-kai-yi-ko-ka'-kin-iks,Ah-kai'-po-kaksAh-kwo'-nis-tsists,Ahk-o'-tash-iks,Ahk-sa'-ke-wah,Ah'pai-tup-iks,Ai-sik'-stuk-iks,A[=i]-sin'-o-ko-ki,Ai'-so-yim-stan,Alcohol, agent of destruction,Algonquin myth,Algonquin tribes,All-are-his-children,All Comrades,All Crazy Dogs,Allen, Major,All-face man,Almost-a-Dog,Amelanchier alnifolia,American Anthropologist,American Hero Myths,Ancient customs dying out,Ancient Times, Stories of,Animals, birth of, creation of,Animal powers,Animal powers and signs,Animals to be food,Antelope, method of taking, song, where created,Anthropologist, AmericanA'pi,Ap'-i-kai-yiks,Ap'i-kunni,Api-su'-ahts,Ap-ut'-o-si-kai-nah,Armells Creek,Arrows,Assinaboines (tribe),A'-tsi-tsi,Authority of "sits beside him" woman,A-wah-heh',

Back fat (of buffalo),
Creek,
Bad Weapons, The,
Bad Wife, The,
Badger,
Badger Creek,
Bags,
Basins,
Battle near Cypress Mountains,
Bear,
Bears, The
Beaver, how taken,
Creek,
Indians,
Medicine, The,
song,
Belly River,
Buttes,
Belt,
Berries created,
Berry of the red willow,
Big Eagle,
Big Nose,
Big Topknots,
Bighorn, where created
Birch tree
Bird, Thomas
Birds created
Birth of the animals
Biters
Bitter-root
Black Elks (Blackfoot gens)
(Blood gens)
Blackfat Roasters
Blackfeet
as known to the whites
Blackfoot
cosmology
country, boundaries of
Crossing
Genesis, The
in War, The
Black Doors
Black Patched Moccasins
Blood (tribe)
Blood People
Boiling meat
Bow River
Bowls of stone
Bows
Box Elder Creek
Boys, advice to
Brave (band of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi),
Bravery held in high esteem
proofs of required
Braves, duties of
Braves' society
Brinton, Dr.
Brush created
Buckets
Buffalo
bringing to camp
corral of Cheyennes
created
driven over cliffs
Dung (gens)
eating the people
hunting disguised
hidden
slaughter, modern
value of to the people
surrounding
Buffalo Lip Butte
Buffalo Rock, The
what it is
Buffalo song
Bull bats
Bull berries
Bulls
Bulls' society
Bunch of lodges
Burial
Buttes created

Camas
root, how prepared
Camp arranged in circle
Camp, order of moving
Canadian mounted police
Casey, Lieutenant
Catchers
Cattle issued
Cause of disease.
Centre post of Medicine Lodge
Ceremony of Medicine Lodge
of unwrapping pipe-stem
Cheyennes
buffalo corral of
Chickadee
Chief
Children in lodge
sports of
training of
Children, The Lost
Chippeways
Chippeweyans
Chinook winds
Choke-cherries, how prepared
Clark (W.P.)
Clay images, of buffalo
in human shape
Clot of blood
Clothing
made of buffalo hide
Cold Maker
Confederation of three tribes
Corral of Cheyennes, buffalo
Cosmology, Blackfoot
Counting coup
coup at Medicine Lodge
Country of the Blackfoot
Coup, et seq.
among Blackfeet.
different tribes.
counting, in early times.
"Covering" the slain.
Cowardice, penalty for.
Coyotes, how taken.
Creation, et seq.
Creator.
Cree (tribe), et seq.
Crimes to be punished.
Crops in Blackfoot country.
Crow (tribe).
Cups, how made.
Custer, General, xiv.
Customs, ancient, dying out.
Customs, Daily Life and.
Cut Bank River.
Cutting rawhide for Medicine Lodge.
Cypress Mountains.
Daily Life and Customs.
Dance, medicine pipe.
young women's.
Dawson, Mrs. Thomas, xiv.
Dead return to life.
Death, origin of.
Deer, how taken.
Deer Lodge.
Diet.
Disease.
Diseases introduced by whites.
Dishes.
Divorce.
Doctors.
Dog and the Stick, The.
Dogs beasts of burden, et seq.
killed at grave.
not eaten.
Dogs Naked.
Don't Laugh band.
Double Runner, vii, xv.
Doves.
Dream helper, et seq.
originates war party.
person, et seq.
Dreaming for power, et seq.
Dreams, 3 et seq..
belief in.
Dress.
Dried meat.
Dried Meat (gens).
Dwelling.
Duties of first wife.
Eagle catching.
songs.
lodge.
Early Finished Eating.
Riser.
wars bloodless.
Ear-rings.
Eggs of waterfowl, how cooked.
[=E]-in'-a-ke.
E-kus'-kini, et seq.
Elbow river.
Elk, how taken.
The.
tushes.
Elkhorn arrow.
Elk River.
Elopement.
E'-mi-tah-pahk-sai-yiks,.
E'-mi-taks,.
Esk'-sin-ai-t[)u]p-iks,.
Esk'-sin-i-t[)u]ppiks.
[)E]ts-k[=a]i'-nah,.
Everyday life, et seq.
Family names.
Fast of Medicine Lodge woman.
Fast Runners, The.
Fat Roasters.
Feast, invitations to.
Feasting in the camps.
Fighting between Bloods and Piegans.
Fire, how obtained.
carried.
First killing in war.
mauls.
medicine pipe.
people.
pis'kun.
scalping.
shelter to sleep under.
stone knives.
Fish.
hooks.
Fish spears,
Flat Bows,
Flatheads,
Flesh of animals eaten,
Fleshers, how made,
Flint and steel,
Folk-lore,
Food of war party,
Forest and Stream,
Fort Conrad,
McLeod,
Pitt,
Union,
Four Bears,
Fox, The,
Fox-eye,
Frogs,
Fungus for punk,
Fur animals, how caught,
Future life,

Gambling,
Game, hidden,
in Blackfoot country,
Game played by prairie dogs,
Genesis, The Blackfoot,
Gentes of the Blackfeet,
Bloods,
Kai'nah,
Piegans,
Pi-k[)u]n'i,
Sik'si-kau,
now extinct,
Ghost,
bear,
country,
Woman, Heavy Collar and The,
Ghosts,
Ghosts' Buffalo, The,
Ghosts, camp of the,
Girls, carefully guarded,
instructed,
outfit for marriage,
Girl stolen,
Gown of women,
Grasshoppers,
Grease on red willow bark,
Great Bear (constellation),
Falls,
Grizzly Bear,
Grooved arrow shafts,
Gros Ventres,
Ground Man,
Ground Man (of Cheyennes),
Ground Persons,

Hair, care of, mode of wearing,Handles of knives,"Hands,"Hats of antelope skin,Head chief, how chosen,Heavy Collar, and the Ghost Woman, Runner,Help from animals,Hill where Old Man sleeps,Horned toad,Horns,Horses cause of war, killed at grave, when obtained,How the Blackfoot lived,Hunting, alone punished,Husband's personal rights in wife, power over wife, property rights in wife,

I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi, origin of,Implements of the dead, made of buffalo hide,Indian a man, sign language, tobacco,Indians and their Stories, Beaver, general ignorance about,Infants lost,I-nis'-kim,In-uhk'-so-yi-stam-iks,I-nuk-si'-kah-ko-pwa-iks,I-nuks'-iks,Invitation to feasts,I'-pok-si-maiks,I-sis'-o-kas-im-iks,I-so-kin'-uh-kin,Is'-sui,Is-ti'-kai-nah"It fell on them" creek,It-se'-wah,

Jackson, William,

Kah'-mi-taiksKai'-nah,Kalispels,Kettles of stone,Kill Close By,Kipp, Joseph,Kit-fox,Kit-fox (society),Kit-foxes,Ki'-yis,Knats-o-mi'-ta,Knives of stone,Ko-ko-mik'-e-is,Kom-in'-a-kus,Ksik-si-num'Kuk-kuiks'Kut'-ai-[=i]m-iks,Kut-ai-sot'-si-man,Kutenais,Kut-o'-yis,

Ladles of horn, of wood,Lari p[=u]k'[=u]sLesser Slave Lake,L'herbe,Liars,Life among the Blackfeet,Little Birds,Little Blackfoot,"Little Slaves,"Lizards,Lodge for dreaming, of stone,Lodges, ancient, how made, decoration of, of chiefs of the I-kun-uk'-kak-tsi,Lone Eaters, Fighters, Medicine Person,Long Tail Lodge Poles,Lost Children, The,Lost Woman, The,Low Horn,

Mad Wolf,Maker, the,Mandans,Man-eater,Many Children, Lodge Poles, Horses, Medicines,March of the camp, of war party,Marriage, girl's outfit for, how arranged, of important people, poorer people, prerequisites for, prohibited within gens,Ma-stoh'-pah-ta-kiks,Material advancement,Mats,Mauls, how made,Measles,Medicine leggings,Medicine Lodge, the, man, Pipes and Healing, rock of the Marias, woman,Mexico,Mi-ah-wah'-pit-siks,Mi-aw'-kin-ai-yiksMik-a'pi,Miles, General,Milk River,Missouri River,Mis-tai'Moccasins,Mo-k[)u]m'-iks,Monroe, Hugh, John,Morning Star,Mosquitoes,Mo-tah'-tos-iksMother-in-law, meeting, not to be spoken to,Mo-twai'-naiksMountains created,Mourning, chant, for the dead,Muddy River,Murder, penalty forMusselshell River,M[)u]t'-siks,

Na-ahks',Nai-ai',Name, changing, unwillingness to speak,Namp'-ski,Na'-pi,Nat-[=o]s',Nat-o'-ye,Na-wuh'-to-ski,Necklaces,New Mexico,Night red light,Ni-kis'-ta,Nimp'-sa,Ni'-nah,Ni-namp'-skan,Nin'-nah,Nin'-sta,Ni'-po-m[=u]k-i,Nis'-ah,Ni-sis'-ah,Nis-kum'-iks,Nis-k[=u]n',Nis-t[=u]m-o',Nit-t[=u]m-o'-kun,Nit'-ak-os-kit-si-pup-iks,Ni-taw'-yiks,Nit'-ik-skiks,Nit-o-k[=e]-man,Ni-tot'-o-ke-man,Ni-tot'-si-ksis-stan-iks,Nits'-i-san,Nits-o'-kan,Ni-tun',No parfleche,No-ko'-i,No'-ma,North Bloods,North, Major,North Saskatchewan River,Northwest Territories,Number of wives,

Oath, Indian,
Obstinate (gens),
Office not hereditary,
Ojibwas,
Ok-wi-tok-so-ka,
Old Man,
and the Lynx,
character of,
disappearance of,
Doctors,
known to other tribes,
makes first weapons,
makes fire sticks,
sleeps, hill where,
Stories of,
Old Man's predictions,
River,
Sliding Ground,
Origin of the I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi,
medicine pipe,
worm pipe,
Orpheus and Eurydice,
Other game,
Owl Bear,
Owls ghosts of medicine men,
Owner's seat in lodge,

Paints,Parfleche soles of moccasins,Past and the Present, The,Pawnee coups, Hero Stories and Folk Tales,Pawnees,Peace with Gros Ventres broken, the Snakes, The,Pemmican,Penalty for adultery, for cowardice, for murder, for theft, for treachery,Penances,Pend d'Oreille,People created,Phrynosoma,Physical characteristics,Pictographs of coups,Piegans,Pi-kun'i,Pi-n[)u]t-u'-ye is-tsim'-o-kan,Pipe dance, medicine, of the Soldier Society, stems,Pipes, material of,Pis'kun, etymology of, bringing buffalo to, how constructed, of the Blackfeet, of the Crees, of the Sik'-si-kau,Pis-tsi-ko'-an,Places chosen for dreaming,Plants, medical properties of,Plunder from the south,Pomme blanche,Pottery,Power, dreaming for, of herbs, to bring on storms,Powers, animal,Prayers, in sweat house, to the Thunder,Preparations for burial, for dreaming, for the attack, for war parties,Presents to husband from father-in-law, to the sun,Product of the buffalo,Property buried with dead, of Brave Society, of deceased, disposition of,Psoralea esculenta,Puh-ksi-nah'-mah-yiks,Puk'-sah-tchis,Punishment for hunting alone, for infidelity, for stealing tobacco,Punk,P[=u]n'-o-ts[)i]-hyo,Purification by smoke,

Quarrels between the three tribes,

Rabid Wolf,
wolves,
Rabies, cure for,
Race, the,
Raven Band of the I-k[)u]n-uh'-kah-tsi,
Bearers,
Carriers,
Ravens,
Red Deer's River,
Eagle,
Old Man,
River half-breeds,
Round Robes,
Religion,
River, Badger,
Belly,
Big,
Bow,
Elbow,
Elk,
Milk,
Missouri,
Muddy,
North Saskatchewan,
Old Man's,
Peace,
person,
Red Deer's,
Saskatchewan,
St. Mary's,
Teton,
Yellowstone,
Roasting meat,
Robes,
Rock, The,
Root-digger,
Ross, Miss Cora M.,
Round,
Running Rabbit,
Russell, William,

Sacks,Sacred bundles, where kept,Sacred objects, things connected with eagle catching,Sacrifice,Sacrifices to sun, of war party,Sai'-yiks,Sak-si-nak'-mah-yiks,Salt,Sand Hills,Sarcees,Sarvis berries, Berry Creek,Saskatchewan River,Saskatoon Creek,Scarface,Schultz, J.W.,Scout of war party,Screech Owl,Seats in lodge,Secret helper,Seeking the Sun's Lodge, Thunder's Lodge,Seldom Lonesome,Self-torturings in Medicine Lodge,Servants,Seven Persons,Seven Persons Creek,Shadow,Shelter for war party, to sleep under,Shepherdia argentea,Short Bows,Sign language,Signs,Signs and powers of animals,Sik-o-kit-sim-iks.Sik-o-pok'-si-maiks.Sik'-si-kau,Siks-ah'-pun-iks,Siks-in'-o-kaks (Blackfoot), (Blood),Sik-ut'-si-pum-aiks,Sin'-o-pah,Sioux,"Sits beside him" woman,Skeleton,Skidi tribe,Skull taken into eagle pit,Skunks,Sleeping for power,Small Brittle Fat,Small Leggings, Robes,Smallpox,Smell of a person,Smoking, rules in,Snakes,Snakes (tribe), Peace with, The,Snares,Social organization,Societies of the All Comrades,Soldiers,Song, antelope, beaver, buffalo, pipe, war party,Soul,Spai'-yu ksah'-ku,Spanish lands,Spear heads,Spears,Spoons,Sports of children, of adults,Spotted Tail's camp,St. Mary's River,Sta-au',Starvation winter,Steell, Major,Stockraising,Stolen by the Thunder,Stone bowls, kettles, knives, pointed arrows,Ston'-i-t[)a]pi,Stories of Adventure, of Ancient Times, of Old Man,Story of the Three Tribes, The,Story-telling,Striped-face,Struck by the Thunder,St[)u]'miks,Suicide among girls,Sun,Sun dogs,Sun River,Sun's Lodge,Sun's Lodge, seeking the,Surrounding buffalo,S[=u]'-ye-st[)u]'-miks,S[=u]'-ye-t[)u]ppi,Su-yoh-pah'-wah-ku,Sweat bath,Sweat lodge, houses for Medicine Lodge,Sweet-grass,Sweet Grass Hills,Swindling the Indians,

Tail-feathers-coming-in-sight-over-the-Hill,
Tails,
Taking horses,
Temperament,
Teton River,
The Bad Weapons,
Bears,
Beaver Medicine,
Blackfoot Genesis,
Blackfoot in War,
Buffalo Rock,
Dog and the Stick,
Elk,
Fox,
Ghosts' Buffalo,
Past and the Present,
Race,
Rock,
Theft from the Sun,
Wonderful Bird,
Theft from the Sun, The,
penalty for,
They Don't Laugh,
Things sacred to the Sun,
Three Tribes, The Story of,
Thunder,
bird,
described,
brings the rain,
steals women,
Tobacco, Indians',
songs,
Tobacco thief punished,
Tongues for Medicine Lodge,
Touchwood Hills,
Training of children,
Transmigration of souls,
Trapping wolves,
Treachery, penalty for,
Treatment of dead enemies,
of women,
Trial by jumping,
Trivett, Rev. S.,
Tsin-ik-tsis'-tso-yiks,
Ts[)i]-st[=i]ks,
T[)u]is-kis't[=i]ks,
Turtles,
Two Medicine (Lodge Creek),
War Trails,

Under Water People,
Persons,
Uses of buffalo products,

Version of the origin of death,
Visitor's seat in lodge,

War bonnet,
bonnet of Bulls Society,
clubs, how made,
head-dress,
journeys, duration of,
journeys to the southwest,
lodges,
lodges, how built,
systematized,
with the Gros Ventres,
War parties,
Warrior's outfit, contributions to,
Whiskey trading,
White beaver,
Breasts,
Calf,
Widows,
Wife, standing of,
duties of first,
The Bad,
Wind Maker,
Sucker,
Wolf Calf,
Tail,
Man, The,
Road,
song,
Wolverine,
Wolves,
Wolves, rabid,
Woman doctors,
Woman, standing of,
The Lost,
Woman's dress,
seat in lodge,
Wonderful Bird, The,
Wood for bows,
Woods Bloods,
Worm People,
Pipe,
Worms,

Yellowstone River,
Young Bear Chief,
women's dance,
Younger sisters potential wives,

Although GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL (1849-1938) won distinction as anethnologist, author, editor, and explorer, perhaps his most enduringachievement was that cited by President Coolidge when he presented theTheodore Roosevelt Gold Medal of Honor to Grinnell in 1925: "Few have doneas much as you, and none has done more, to preserve vast areas ofpicturesque wilderness for the eyes of posterity…." It was largelythanks to Grinnell that Glacier National Park was created, and inYellowstone Park, as the President said, he "prevented the exploitation andtherefore the destruction of the natural beauty." Grinnell was a member ofthe Marsh, Custer, and Ludlow expeditions in the 1870's, and during thoseyears prepared reports on birds and mammals of the northwestern GreatPlains region which are still authoritative. From those years, also, dateshis interest in the Indians, particularly the Pawnee, Blackfoot, andCheyenne. Among the score of books resulting from his lifelong study of thePlains tribes, The Fighting Cheyenne (1915) and The Cheyenne Indians(1923), Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk-Tales (1889), and BLACKFOOT LODGETALES (1892) are perhaps the best known. A friend of the famed Northbrothers, who commanded the Pawnee Scouts, Grinnell encouraged CaptainLuther North to set down his recollections, and contributed a foreword tothe book. Titled Man of the Plains, this work was published for the firsttime in its entirety by the University of Nebraska Press (1961).