Muh-ka-chees, or "the Fox"--An Indian "dude"--A strange story--How
the Fox was transformed--Mr. The-Camp-is-Moving as a magician.
"Muh-ka-chees," or "the Fox," was another particular friend of ours,
but one who clung to his old faith. He was quite a wag in his way
and created a hearty laugh around our camp-fire by describing an
imaginary scene, in which he was to have settled down beside the
mission and gone into farming and stock-raising, but the crowd around
us would go on in the old way, hunting and trapping. He would become
wealthy, adopt the white man's mode of life, dress, etc. This would
go on, and one day it would be reported that the York boats with
their crews were coming up the river from their long and slavish trip
to the Coast, the men in harness and working like beasts of burden as
they were. He would drop his work for a bit, and dress up in a neat
cut coat and white shirt, and with hat cocked on one side just a
little, and tobacco rolled like a stick in his mouth, with cane in
hand, he would walk down to the river bank, and as the boats came up
he would carelessly look over at his old companions, still in their
primitive costume and slaving for others, while he was independent,
and then holding the rolled tobacco between two fingers and turning
on his heel he would say, "Only a lot of savages, anyway," and then
go back to his comfortable home. The point in the joke was that of
the crowd the Fox himself was the least likely to change in a hurry.
He was said to be able to transform himself in case of necessity into
a fox; that is, the "spirit of his dream"--the power to whom he was
under vow--had given him assurance that in his hour of extremity this
spirit would come to his help, and enable him to thus change his
visible appearance--the man Fox would become the animal fox in shape.
This, it was told me, had actually taken place, and an eye-witness
thus describes the circumstance:
"The Fox and four others of us started out in the late autumn to
steal horses or take scalps from the Blackfeet. The Fox was our
leader and conjurer. He was ever and anon to look into the unknown
and determine our course and movements. We left our camps between
the Battle River and the North Saskatchewan, and travelled south for
several days. We crossed the Red Deer below the big canyon, and
keeping on came to the track of a large camp of Blackfeet travelling
southerly. Now we began to move with extreme caution, and when south
of Service Berry Creek I went on alone to scout, as the tracks were
fresh, my companions remaining hidden while I was away. After a
long, stealthy run I came in sight of the camp of the enemy, and
taking stock of it and its locality, I went back to my companions,
thinking to inspire them with great enthusiasm because of what I had
seen; but though I sang the war song as I approached them, they did
not stir, and I saw a gloom was upon the party.
"Then the Fox spoke up and said, 'I am sorry, but it is no use; we
must return from here. The Spirit has informed me that it would be
utter ruin for us to advance. We must retrace our steps.' I was
loath to do this. I wanted horses, and I upbraided Fox with
deceiving us; but he was determined, as he said, to follow the
guidance of the one he dreamt of, and finally I reluctantly joined my
comrades, who had already started on the back trail. Sullenly and in
quiet we moved northward. Presently the Fox began to limp, and
finally sat down, saying, 'There is something in my knee; see if you
can find a thorn or a splinter.' We could not find any such thing,
and yet his knee was swollen and inflamed, and soon he could not put
his foot to the ground. He said to us repeatedly, 'Leave me, let me
die alone.' But we would not listen to that. I made him a crutch,
and we moved on slowly, very slowly. We helped him from time to
time, but his leg grew worse, and was terribly swollen. And now
winter came upon us, and snow and cold increased. When we reached
the Red Deer it was frozen out on both sides, and the channel was
full of float ice. I said, 'I will cross first and have a fire ready
for you.' So I stripped, forded the river, and made a camp on the
north side in a clump of spruce. When this was ready, I shouted to
my companions to come across. They took a long pole, and put the Fox
in the centre, and all holding on to the pole waded abreast through
the current and float ice, and thus brought our lame conjurer over.
The snow was now deep and we were out of provisions. The next
morning my brother and myself went to hunt for game, and we had not
gone far when we saw tracks in the snow, which turned out to be those
of buffalo. I succeeded in killing two, and our party packed all of
the meat into our camp, and we busied ourselves in cutting up and
drying this meat for our journey.
"In the meantime the Fox's leg was growing worse, and he implored us
to abandon him, but we could not do this. Then I fixed a strap of
buffalo-hide to go across his shoulder, and fastening this to two
crutches, we made another start. Climbing the steep banks of the Red
Deer, and with many stops, we continued our way homeward. Our course
was along the Buffalo Lake. One day we heard shooting in the
distance, and scouting for the cause, found that the Sarcee camp was
right in our way. This was very disappointing, as it compelled us to
make a big detour to avoid this camp and its many hunters. Very
slowly and stealthily we travelled among our enemies. There was no
chance to steal horses, as the snow was too deep and our party too
weak. They could track us at once, and then, situated as we were,
our scalps would certainly be theirs. Several times we were nearly
discovered, but the weather being cold and stormy, and at times
misty, favored us, and we had got about opposite the camp one day
when my brother filled a pipe, and handing it to the Fox, said to
him: 'Here, smoke that and call upon your source of help, for you
need this now, as we are likely to be tracked or seen at any time.'
So the Fox smoked the pipe, and said, 'Well, leave me here alone and
hurry on to yonder woods. Do not look back, but wait for me when you
reach the woods.'
"We left him and ran across the plain. I was ahead and did not look
back, but as we ran all of a sudden I heard my brother cry out,
'Alas! alas! I have injured the Fox,' and without looking back, I
said, 'What is it?' And my brother told me that he had looked back
and seen the Fox coming on the dead run after us, but while he looked
he saw him fall, as if struck down, and then he knew he had broken
the charm or influence by his disobedience.
"When we reached the woods we waited, and after a long time the Fox
crawled up and at once charged us with looking back. 'I was coming
on nicely when you looked back and spoiled me by your foolish
curiosity.' My brother confessed at once that it was he who had done
this, but said he was prompted to do so, as he thought we had left
our friend alone, and our enemies might come upon him at any time.
After this the Fox got worse, and his foot and all of his leg was
fearfully swollen; and yet I could not find any sight of a healing or
gathering of matter. After days of slow progress the weather became
milder, and in some spots on the hills the snow went off. One day we
came out upon the valley which is called, 'Where the buffalo hunters
meet in running,' and we sat down on the hill above the valley.
Here, I thought, I will try the Fox, and see if there is anything in
his boasted association with the spirits. So I filled a pipe, and
lighting it, said to him, 'Here, smoke this, and listen to me. You
brought us out on this trip, you promised us horses, you led us to
depend on your spiritual power; you have deceived us in every way,
and for many days you have been a burden to us. Many times our lives
have been in danger because of you. Why continue this any longer?
Why not invoke the help you profess to be able to call to your aid?
Do this now.' Then the Fox said, 'Your words are true, and you
should have left me to die long ago, but you would not. I have been
a burden and a danger to you. I will do as you say; possibly I may
be heard.'
"Baring his back, he said, 'Here, paint a fox on my back with this
yellow earth. Let my head represent his head, let his forelegs go
down on to my arms, and his hind legs on to my thighs. Make my head
and back yellow, then take some powder and wet it, and darken the
lower parts of his limbs and tail, and my nose and mouth, and take a
little white earth and tip the tail.' I and my companions did as he
told us. Then he said, 'Cross the valley, climb the hill; just over
its brow wait for me, but mind, as you cross the valley and climb the
hill, do not look back--remember that.' Then he held the pipe on
high, and began to chant his invocation song, and thus we left him;
nor did we look back as we ran across the valley, in which the
buffalo were standing on both sides of us like a black wall.
Climbing the hill, we went over its brow, and made a circle so as to
command our track, and there waited. We were intensely anxious.
By-and-bye we saw a stir among the buffalo in the valley, and then we
discerned a small object coming on our track. It looked in the
distance like a kit fox, then, when nearer, it appeared like an
ordinary red fox. On it came at the gallop, and, keeping our track,
climbed the hill, and was soon on its brow, and presently opposite to
us. We were now in full view; then it saw us, and the Fox himself
rose up, saying, 'Ah, you caught me in my other self.'
"We did not say anything, we were so astonished. The Fox walked over
to us as if there were nothing the matter with him. His leg, which
had been big and swollen, was now down to its usual size. He pulled
down his legging and said to me, 'Here, lance this, and I will be all
right.' Sure enough, there was a bag of matter on his knee, but the
swelling was gone. So I took an arrow, sharpened the point, bound it
around with string a little distance from the point, and with this
lanced his knee, from which the matter poured forth. Then I made a
ring of twisted grass, bound this over the wound, and we continued
our journey. The Fox delayed us no more, and in a few days was
entirely recovered."
Though well-nigh forty years have passed since the above experience,
three out of the five actors are still living, and they say they must
believe what they saw and felt.
Another of our friends was called "The-Camp-is-Moving." He would
shake his powder-horn and it would never empty. Like the widow's
cruse of oil, it would replenish. It was said he had but to sing and
shake his horn, and powder came at his bidding.
Once "Mr. The-Camp-is-Moving" came to me at Pigeon Lake and begged
for some shot. "You know," said he, "I am all right as to powder,"
giving his powder-horn a significant shake; and I ventured to say
that it might be easier to make shot than powder, that if I could
make powder I would try making shot also. "Ah, my grandchild," said
the old man, "we must not be presuming. I am thankful it is given to
me to make powder." After that what could I do but give him some
shot. This same old man had a fashion of dying, or going into a
trance, and to bring him out of this his brother conjurers had to
gather to his tent, and bringing their drums and rattles, sing his
own songs, which after a time would result in the old man's coming
back to earth, when he would have wonderful things to tell his
people. These men I have mentioned, and others widely differing from
us in creed, were yet friendly and kind in their attitude to the
members of our mission party.