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[Illustration: W. A. ALLEN, AUTHOR]
THE SHEEP EATERS
BY
W. A. ALLEN, D.D.S.
[Illustration]
THE SHAKESPEARE PRESS,
114-116 EAST 28TH STREET,
NEW YORK.
1913.
COPYRIGHT, 1913,
_by_
W. A. ALLEN
_This Book Is Affectionately
Dedicated To My Friend_
MRS. CLARA DALLAS.
CONTENTS
Chapter Page
I AN EXTINCT MOUNTAIN TRIBE 7
II THE OLD SQUAW'S TALE 12
III THE GOLD SEEKER IN THE MOUNTAINS 21
IV STARTING FOR THE PAINT ROCKS 30
V A TALK WITH LITTLE BEAR 35
VI CURIOSITIES AROUND PAINT ROCK 45
VII THE STORY OF AGGRETTA AND THE RED ARROW 51
VIII CLOSING WORDS 72
THE SHEEP EATERS
CHAPTER I
AN EXTINCT MOUNTAIN TRIBE
The Sheep Eaters were a tribe of Indians that became extinct about fifty
years ago, and what remaining history there is of this tribe is
inscribed upon granite walls of rock in Wyoming and Montana, and in a
few defiles and canyons, together with a few arrows and tepees remaining
near Black Canyon, whose stream empties into the Big Horn River. Bald
Mountain still holds the great shrine wheel, where the twenty-eight
tribes came semi-annually to worship the sun, and in the most
inaccessible places may still be found the remains of a happy people.
Small in stature and living among the clouds, this proud race lived a
happy life far removed from all other Indians.
The Shoshones seem to be a branch of the Sheep Eaters who afterwards
intermarried with the Mountain Crows, a tall race of people who gave to
the Shoshones a taller and better physique. From what can be gleaned,
the Sheep Eater women were most beautiful, but resembled the Alaskan
Indians in their shortness of stature.
These people drew their name from their principal article of food,
Mountain Sheep, although, when winter set in, elk and deer were often
killed when coming down before a driving snow storm.
Their home life was simple. They lived in the grassy parks of the
mountains which abounded in springs of fresh water, and were surrounded
by evergreens and quaking asps and sheltered by granite walls rising
from fifty to a thousand feet high. Their tepees were different from
those of all other tribes, and were not covered with rawhide but
thatched with quaking asp bark, and covered with a gum and glue made
from sheep's hoofs. Another variety were covered with pitch pine gum.
[Illustration: WHEEL OF THE HOLY SHRINE, BALD MOUNTAIN, WYO.]
In this manner lived the twenty-eight tribes of Sheep Eaters, carving
their history on granite walls, building their homes permanently among
the snowy peaks where they held communion with the sun, and worshipping
at their altar on Bald Mountain, which seems likely to remain until the
Sheep Eaters are awakened by Gabriel's trumpet on the morning of the
resurrection.
Never having been taught differently, they believed in gods, chief of
which was the sun, and consecrated their lives to them; and their
eternal happiness will be complete in the great Happy Region where all
is bright and warm. The great wheel, or shrine, of this people is eighty
feet across the face, and has twenty-eight spokes, representing the
twenty-eight tribes of their race. At the center or hub there is a house
of stone, where Red Eagle held the position of chief or leader of all
the tribes. Facing the north-east was the house of the god of plenty,
and on the south-east faced the house of the goddess of beauty; and due
west was the beautifully built granite cave dedicated to the sun god,
and from this position the services were supposed to be directed by him.
Standing along the twenty-eight spokes were the worshippers, chanting
their songs of praise to the heavens, while their sun dial on earth was
a true copy of the sun.
A short time ago I learned that among the Mountain Crows there lived an
old woman, who was the very last of her tribe, and who was so old she
seemed like a spirit from another world. She had outlived her people and
had wandered away from her home on the mountains into the valleys,
living on berries and wild fruit as she wandered. She alone could read
the painted rocks and tell their meaning, and could relate the past
glories of the tribe and the methods of the arrow makers, who
transformed the obsidian into the finished arrows ready to kill the
mountain ram.
I was very anxious to see this creature, who had outlived her race and
her usefulness, and so one day I saddled my horse, Billie, put on my
cartridge belt, took my rifle in my hand, and set out for the mountains
where I knew a small band of Mountain Crows were hunting buffalo on Wind
River.
After a long ride I passed Bovay Creek and struck the Buffalo Trail,
which led directly toward the mountains. It soon headed toward the south
and I crossed a mountain stream and headed toward the Big Horn Canyon. I
had gone about two miles when I discovered something to my right sitting
on the remains of a mountain cedar, and in a moment I was on the scene.
I pulled up my horse and dismounted and discovered that I had found the
object of my search, the Sheep Eater squaw.