A BLACKFOOT LEGEND
For a time all sat silent, and then Joe asked, “White Bull, did you ever
hear that the people once lived on the other side of the mountains; that
there is where they came from?”
“No,” said Hugh, “I don’t know as I have. I seem to remember something
about such a story, but I can’t remember what it is.”
“Tell it to us, Joe,” said Jack.
“Well,” said Joe, “it’s a story I heard my uncle tell a good many years
ago, when I was a little fellow, but I don’t believe it’s true. He
didn’t know whether it was true or not. It was just something that he
had heard from some older person. You know the Piegans believe that they
used to live far up northeast, in the timber by some big lake, and that
they came this way looking for some place where life was easier, where
there was more game and it was easier to get close to the animals. I
guess that is true, because there are old people still living whose
fathers and grandfathers can remember old Piegans, who said that they
had made that journey. This other story is about some of the people
having lived across the mountains. It’s a long story, but I’ll tell it
to you if you want me to.”
“Go ahead,” said Hugh.
“Well,” Joe went on, “the story tells that a long time ago the people
lived west of the mountains and in a hot country away to the south. A
season came when all animals were scarce and hard to find and the
people got hungry. In the camp was an old man and his family, three
sons, young men grown up. Now, at last, when there was no food to be
had, this old man said, ‘Why should I stay here where there is no food?
I shall go away with my children and we will try to find a place where
there are animals and where food can be had. I will travel toward the
rising sun, even to the mountains, to the country where no one has ever
been, to a land no one has looked on.’
“They started; the old man and his wife, and the three sons and their
wives and children. They did not know the mountains, and supposed that
as soon as they had gone over the nearest one they would pass down on
the other side to the plain, but they found that this was not so. Beyond
the first mountain rose another, and beyond this another. They traveled
on, day after day, and climbed ridges and went down into valleys and
always in front of them they saw other ridges or other valleys, always
steeper, higher and harder to cross. The road was rough, thick timber
kept them back, sharp stones cut their feet, wide rivers stopped them.
They found no game, except now and then some birds, and soon they grew
tired, hungry, footsore and discouraged. At last they had almost made up
their minds to stop looking for what they could not find, and to turn
about and try to return to their own country and their own people; but
one night, as they talked about this, the old man said to them, ‘Come,
let us take courage, let us keep on a little longer and try to find that
country. The road has been long and hard, and we are almost tired out,
but let us go on a little further. It may be that we have almost
arrived. To-day you saw that high mountain beyond, toward which we are
traveling; let us climb over that and if beyond that we see nothing
except more mountains, then we will turn about and go back to the place
we came from.’ The sons said it was good, and the next day they traveled
on.
“At length they reached the top of the high peak, and when they looked
down on the land below they saw before them a wide prairie. It looked
beautiful to these people, who were tired of the lonely, rough, dark
mountains. On the plain they could see herds of big brown animals,
larger than any that they had ever seen before, animals with curly hair
and short black horns. There, too, were yellow antelope, and in the
valleys, deer, and on the ridges of the mountain were many elk. Fresh
streams ran to the prairie, and the sight was one that made their hearts
glad.
“‘Ah,’ said the old man, ‘now it is good.’
“They all stopped, and he sat down and smoked to the sun and said,
‘Listen, O Sun, now you have taken pity on us. We believed that we were
going to die among these rocks, but you have taken care of us and have
brought us safely out of them. Now we can see the things that we may
live by.’ So he prayed for help, and for plenty to eat and for long
life, and when he had finished his prayer and his smoking, they made a
present to the sun. Then they went slowly down the mountainside and
toward night camped on a stream.
“The next day they hunted, but they could kill no game. They had no
arrows, for they had used them all up in crossing the mountains, and the
buffalo would not let them get too close to them, so they were still
without food and hungry.
“Then the old man saw that something must be done, and he made strong
medicine, a black medicine, which he rubbed on the feet of his oldest
son, and after this had been put on his feet, the young man became so
swift that he could at once run up alongside the fastest cows and kill
them with his knife. This made the young man feel good, and he said to
his brothers, ‘Now and from this time forth I and my children are
Sĭks´ ĭ kā.[B] This shall be our name.’
[B] Black his foot.
“When the other two sons saw that their elder brother could do so much
through the medicine their father had made and that they could do
nothing, they felt badly. They went to the old man and said, ‘Why do you
treat our brother so much better than you treat us? You have made him a
swift runner, so that he can overtake the game, while we can kill
nothing, and our wives and children have to eat what he gives us. What
have we done that you have forgotten us? Come, now, make us also swift
runners, so that we, too, can have enough to eat and can have names.’
“The old man answered them and said, ‘Why do you do nothing except sit
about the fire and eat food which your brother has killed? If you wish
names go to war, and when you come back, if you have done well and
killed enemies and counted coups, you, too, shall have names.’
“So the young men went back to the lodge, and each asked his wife to
make him some moccasins and a war sack, and they made themselves some
war arrows and started.
“They were gone a long time. Sĭks´ ĭ kā killed many buffalo,
and the women dried the meat and tanned the hides. The berries grew
ripe, and the women cut down the sarvice bushes and beat off the fruit
over a robe spread on the ground and dried the berries. Then the tops of
the mountains became white with snow, the leaves fell. From the north
came the wild fowl, the swans, geese and ducks, and their numbers
covered the surface of the prairie lakes, while their cries were heard
night and day through the air. Then the wild fowl passed on, the snow
fell and melted and fell again, and it was winter. After a long time
black winds began to blow from the west and the snow disappeared. Then
again the wild fowl were seen. Then the Thunder shouted, bringing the
rain, so that the berries might grow large and sweet. Then the grass
began to spring, the prairie to turn green, and soon it was summer.
“One night, a year after the young men had gone away, as they sat about
the fire in the lodge, they heard the dogs bark and presently the door
was lifted and the second son stepped in and sat down. His robe was thin
and all his clothing worn by long travel, but his body was lean and
hard. The women hurried and set food before him, and while he ate they
sang songs about him, telling how brave he was and how he had traveled
far to strike his enemies. After he had eaten the old man filled the
pipe and smoked and passed it to his son, who spoke, and told of his
journeyings to far-off lands and among strange people, and how he had
struck his enemies and all that he had done.
“After he had finished the old man said to him, ‘My son, you have done
well and since you have killed many chiefs, let that be your name, Ah´
kāi nāh’ (many chiefs). So after that the second son and his
children and their children were called Ah´ kāi nāh, but now they
call them Kāi´nāh.
“Another season passed, the berries ripened, the leaves fell, the water
fowl came and went; it was winter. Then again the Thunder spoke, and
again the grass grew. The wife of the third son thought much about her
husband, fearing that she would not see him again. She used to talk of
him to her children, telling them that they ought to be brave like their
father.
“One night in summer, when all in the lodge were asleep, the dogs barked
loudly, the lodge door was lifted and a person entered and sat down by
the fire. ‘Who is there?’ said the old man. There was no answer. Then
the wife of the third son rose from her bed and spread grass on the
fire, and soon it blazed up and she saw sitting there her husband. Glad
then was her heart, and quickly she built the fire and gave him food,
and as he ate, she looked at him and saw that his clothing was torn and
ragged, his face thin and his arms and breast scarred, but from his
quiver hung scalps, and on the ground beside him was a bundle. Then she
began to sing about him and the others in the lodge arose and sat by the
fire while he ate. After he had eaten and smoked, he said to the old
man, ‘I have traveled far and I have seen many people. Look at these
scalps,’ and he showed them the scalps and the bundle of strange
clothing that he had taken from enemies far to the south. He told them
all that he had seen and done, and after he had finished speaking his
father said to him, ‘Because you have taken this strange clothing you
shall be called Pī kŭn´ ni’ (garments), so since that time he and
his children’s children have been called Pī kŭn´ ni.”
“That’s a bully story, Joe,” exclaimed Jack, after the tale was ended,
and Hugh joined in and said, “So it is, a mighty good story, but I
reckon it’s just a story and nothing else. I’ve always heard, like Joe
said a little while ago, that the people came from up north and I’ve
always believed that they were relations of the Crees. I’ve often
wondered, though, about how the tribes got their names. There are lots
of stories, but none of them seem to ring true. Now this word Pī
kŭn´ ni for Piegans, I’ve always believed came from Ap´ ĭ kŭn
nĭ, which means a badly tanned robe, one with white spots on it.
Isn’t that so, Joe?”
“Yes,” said Joe, “that’s so all right, and you know Ap´ kŭn nĭ is
a common name in the tribe to-day. There are two or three Indians and
one white man that have that name. This story says that Ah´ kāi
nāh has been shortened to Kainah, and if that is so why shouldn’t Ap´
ĭ kŭn nĭ have been shortened to Pi kun ni. Then the name of my
tribe would mean a robe with hard white spots in it.”
“Of course it would,” said Hugh, “and I believe that’s what it does
mean, but I don’t know that we’ll ever find out for sure.
“Well, boys,” he went on, “let’s turn in. Get out early to-morrow
morning and bring in your horses. I want to start before it gets warm,
so as to get rid of the flies. We may have quite a ways to go
to-morrow.”