shore of the pond, and close to the edge of the water took his stand
and gave himself the appearance of an old stump. Soon after sunrise
the old water bear, coming out from the brush on the island, saw it,
sat up and stared at it, and said to herself: 'I do not remember
having seen that stump before. I suspicion that it is Old Man, come to
do me harm. I saw him right there when I killed the wolf.'
"She stared and stared at the stump, and at last called out her young,
and said to one of them: 'Go across there and bite, and claw that
stump. I believe that it is Old Man. If it is, he will cry out and run
when you hurt him.'
"The young bear swam across and went up to the stump, and bit, and
clawed it, and hurt Old Man. He was almost on the point of giving up
and running away, when it left him and went back to the island and
told the old one that the stump was a stump, and nothing else. But the
old one was not satisfied. She sent the other young one over, and it
bit and clawed Old Man harder than its brother had, but he stood the
pain, bad as it was, and that young one went back and also said that
the stump was just a common old stump and without life.
"But the old water bear was not yet satisfied. She went across
herself, and bit and tore at the stump with her claws, and what Old
Man had suffered from the others was nothing compared to what he
endured from her attack. He stood it, however, and at last, satisfied
that her children had been right, that this was a stump and nothing
else, she left it and started back for the island. Then it was that,
just as she was entering the water, Old Man picked up the bow and
arrows he had made during the two days back in the timber and shot an
arrow into her, well back in the loin; but she dove under water so
quickly that he could not see whether he had hit her or not. She swam
under water clear around back of the island, and went ashore where he
could not see her. He turned, then, and went away back in the timber,
and slept all the rest of the day and all of the following night.
"Early the next morning he was approaching the pond by way of the
stream running from it, when he saw a kingfisher sitting on a limb of
a tree overhanging the water, and looking intently down into it:
'Little brother, what do you there?' he asked.
"'The old water bear has been shot,' the bird answered. 'She bathes in
the water, and clots of blood and pieces of fat escape from the wound,
and when they come floating along here I seize them, and eat them.'
"'Ha! So I did hit her!' Old Man said. 'How badly, I wonder?'
"He went on up the shore of the stream, trying to think of some way to
get complete revenge for the death of Heavy Body, when he heard some
one out in the brush chanting: 'Some one has shot the old water bear!
I have to doctor the old water bear! Some one has shot the old water
bear! I have to doctor the old water bear!'
"He went out to see who this might be, and found that it was the bull
frog, jumping about and making the chant after every jump. He went to
him and asked if the bear was much hurt?
"'There is an arrow in her loin,' the frog answered, 'and as soon as I
find a certain medicine plant, I shall pull the arrow out and apply
the crushed plant to the wound. I believe that I can save her life.'
"'That you never will,' Old Man said, and fired an arrow into him, and
killed him. He then took his skin, put it on, tore up a handful of a
green plant, and swam to the island. As soon as he reached the shore
he began chanting as the frog had done: 'Some one has shot the old
water bear! I have to doctor the old water bear!' And so, chanting and
jumping, he followed a trail into the brush and came upon the old
bear and her two young. She was lying on her side, breathing heavily,
and her eyes were shut. Old Man bent over her, and, firmly grasping
the arrow, shoved it in until it pierced her heart, and she gave a
kick and died! He then picked up a club and killed the two young.
'There! That ends the water bear family. I was crazy ever to have made
her and her husband!' he exclaimed.
"Casting off the frog skin now, he with great difficulty floated the
three bears from the island to the shore of the pond. There, a short
distance back from it, he found a bowl-shaped depression in the
ground. Into this he dragged the carcasses of the bears, after
skinning them and taking off all the fat from their meat and insides,
and then he tried out the fat and poured the oil over them, completely
covering them and filling the depression. He then called the animals.
'All you who would be fat, come bathe in this oil,' he shouted. And on
all sides the animals heard and began to come in. The bears--real
bears, the grizzly and the black--came first and rolled in the oil,
and ever since that time they have been the fattest of all animals.
Then came the skunk; next the badger; after him the porcupine, and
rolled in the oil and got fat. The beaver came and swam across the
oil. All that part of him above the water as he swam--his head and the
forward part of his back--got no fat, but all the rest of his
body--his sides, belly, and tail--became extremely fat. Last of all
the animals came the rabbit. He did not go into the oil, but, dipping
a paw into it, rubbed it upon his back between his shoulders and upon
the inside of each leg. That is why he has no fat on other parts of
his body.
"'Well, there!' Old Man exclaimed, after the rabbit had gone. 'I have
done some good. I have avenged the death of my wolf partner and have
made fat many of my younger brothers!' And with that he started off
seeking more adventures.
"Kyi! My story ends."
_August 4._
Not for many years, I am sure, have my relatives and friends here been
so happy as they are just now. Instead of beef or no meat of any
kind, as is generally the case with them when at home,--some die every
winter from want of food,--they have now in every lodge real meat;
meat of moose and elk and bighorn, and so are living much as they did
in the days before the white men overran their country and killed off
their game.
[Illustration: SUN WOMAN, DAUGHTER OF TAKES-GUN-AHEAD AND WIFE OF
STABS-BY-MISTAKE]
A happy heart sharpens one's wits. All day yesterday, as I knew, my
two old relatives, Tail-Feathers-Coming-over-the-Hill and Yellow Wolf,
were considering what other one of the tribal stories about the Little
River country would most please me. I had told them that I could not
put them all down--could use only two or three of the most interesting
ones. And so, when we all gathered in Yellow Wolf's lodge last
evening, and the pipe was lighted and started on the round of our
circle, he said that it had been decided that I should have the story
of the rescue of a boy from the Crows, and that he would tell it. It
was called, he said, the story of
"NEW ROBE, THE RESCUER
"In the long ago, before our forefathers had taken this country from
the Crows, they were one summer camping and hunting on the Big River
of the North.[7] Came the evening of a long, hot day, and a boy of
eight or nine winters--Lone Star was his name--failed to return to his
parents' lodge. The chiefs ordered the camp crier out, and he went all
among the lodges, shouting the news, and asking if any one had seen
the boy? None had; so then the chiefs ordered all the men and youths
to go out and try to find him. All that moonlit night, and all the
next day, they searched the surrounding country, but got no trace of
him. Every alighting buzzard was marked down, but in every instance it
was found to be feasting upon the remains of game that the hunters had
killed. So then, although his body could not be found, most of the
people believed that the boy was dead. His beautiful sister, Red
Cloud Woman, and his father, Black Bear, thought otherwise; they
believed that he had been stolen by the enemy, and publicly, all
through the camp, the two went, the girl vowing that she would marry
whoever would find her brother, the old man adding that she had his
permission to make the vow.
[7] Ap-ut´-o-sosts O´muk-at-ai (Big River of the North). The
Saskatchewan.
"There was in the camp a very poor young man, named New Robe. So poor
was he that he had never owned a new robe, nor a new shirt, nor
leggins, nor even new moccasins. His father and mother were dead, and
always, as far back as he could remember, he had worn nothing but the
used clothes the charitable had given him. He had never been to war,
had never done anything to make a name for himself, but now he was
eager to start in quest of the missing boy. He had long loved the
girl, but had never even spoken to her. He now went to her and said:
'Tell no one about it. Just silently pray for me. I am going to travel
far in search of your brother.'
"Said the girl: 'This is not a time for me to hide my heart from you.
I have watched you, loved you for a very long time. But what could I
say? Nothing. Well I knew that my people would not allow me to marry
one so poor as you. But now there is hope for us; somehow I believe
that this trouble is to be the means of bringing us together.' And
with that she kissed him, and he went quietly out from camp,
unobserved by any one, and started southward on his quest.
"Many days later, in the valley of Old Man's River, New Robe came upon an
old camp-ground of the enemy--Crows, of course, for that was then their
country. From it he found that they had moved south, and he followed
their trail, ever along the foot of the mountains, and knew that he was
fast overtaking them. At the River-of-Many-Chiefs-Gathering[8] he found
live coals in the ashes of their abandoned fireplaces, and so, upon
arriving at the top of the ridge overlooking this stream, he was not
surprised to see the lodges of the great Crow camp here--right here
where we are encamped to-night. They were set up in a great circle, and
in the center of it was a huge lodge covered with old lodge skins: the
Crows were having their medicine lodge ceremonies!
[8] St. Mary's River.
"As soon as night came and before the moon arose, New Robe descended
the hill and entered the camp. The people were all of them gathered at
the medicine lodge, singing and dancing, and fulfilling their vows to
the sun, so he went from one living lodge to another, looking into
each for some sign of the missing boy. By the time he had made the
round of the lodges of half of the circle it was midnight, and the
people were beginning to go home to sleep. He left the camp and went
back on the ridge, having found no trace of the one for whom he
searched.
"The next night New Robe descended the ridge and searched the lodges
of the other half of the circle, and found not what he sought. When he
had finished, the people were still gathered at the medicine lodge,
and, desperate, and knowing well the great risk that he would incur,
he went toward it, and stood at the outer edge of the great crowd and
watched the ceremonial dancing of the different warrior clans. He kept
his face partly concealed with his old robe, and moved from place to
place around the outer circle of the people, and none observed him, so
intent were they upon watching the dancers.
"At last, during a quiet interval between dances, he imagined that he
heard some one groaning, but, look where he would, he could see no one
in distress, nor could he locate the exact place from which the
groaning came. It was a light-voiced groaning, such as a child would
make; he felt sure that it came from little Lone Star, somewhere in
that great lodge, and in great pain. He left the place, went outside
the circle of lodges, and lay down.
"It was long past midnight when the people returned to their lodges.
Then, as soon as the camp became quiet, New Robe returned to the
medicine lodge, and, listening, heard faint groaning and located it.
It came from the top of the center post, where all the sacrifices to
the sun were hung. He was sure then that it was no other than Lone
Star up there, lashed to the post, a living sacrifice to the sun, and
there to die!
"Well he knew that there, within the lodge, were sleeping the women
who had vowed to build the great structure in honor of the sun. And
there, too, in his secret, walled-off little inner lodge, slept the
medicine man whose duty it was to drive back approaching thunderclouds
and rain. He had to risk awakening them! He had at least to attempt to
rescue the boy! So, casting off his robe, he climbed the outer wall of
the lodge, and from it crawled along one of the big long poles that
slanted up to the center post. There he found Lone Star, firmly lashed
to one of its forks, and so far gone that he could no longer even
groan.
"Silently, very carefully, New Robe unwound the lashing, and then,
fastening an end of it under the boy's arms, let him down to the
ground. He then descended, and found that the boy was so numb that he
could not walk. There was but one thing to do then. He took the
helpless one upon his back, stole out of the lodge, and started with
him across the big camp-ground. Dawn had come. As he was passing the
circle of lodges, an early riser, a woman, saw him and with her
shrieks aroused all the near-by sleepers. They rushed out, warriors
and youths, the women following, and overtook him. He made no
resistance. He could have left the boy and made his own escape, but he
would not do that. Several old warriors seized him and the boy, and
hurried them to the lodge of the head chief, the women and the youths
following and crying out that they be killed. Inside the lodge, the
chief motioned them to seats, and in signs asked New Robe what he had
to say for himself.
"'I came not to harm you,' New Robe answered, 'nor to take from you
anything that is yours. I came to find this boy, and take him back to
his mourning father and mother and sister. And where did I find him!
Tied to the center post of your medicine lodge, there to die from
want of water and food, a living but dying sacrifice to the sun! That
were too cruel a thing to do. I ask you not to put him back there. If
he is to die, I die with him. Shoot us, stab us, kill us in any way
you choose, so that our death be quick!'
"The chief gave him no answer to that. He counseled with the other
chiefs for a long time, and at last signed to him: 'You are so brave
that we shall give you and the boy a chance for your lives. You are to
remain here in this lodge to-day, to-night, to-morrow, and the
following night. My young men will keep watch on you, so do not
attempt to escape. On the morning following your second night here,
you are to be given your chance to leave us unharmed. I shall not now
tell you what that chance will be.' And then, turning to his men, he
gave them certain orders, and they hurried from the lodge.
"During the two days and two nights, New Robe prayed as he never had
before, prayed for strength and courage to succeed in whatever he
should be told to do. The people of the lodge treated him and the boy
well. They did not want for food, nor anything else that would make
for their comfort. Early in the morning after the second night, the
chief signed to him: 'It is not my fault, nor the fault of my under
chiefs, that you have to undergo this trial for your life and that of
the boy this day. My people were crying for your lives; they wanted to
drag you two out from here and fill your bodies with arrows. I did not
want them to do that; my council of chiefs did not want it done; so we
counseled together and hit upon a way to give you a chance for your
lives. It is not an easy thing that you have to attempt, but I hope
you will succeed. And, whatever happens, believe this: I have done the
best for you that I could!'
"A little later, soon after the morning meal, the chief signed the two
captives to follow him, and led them to the medicine lodge. In front
of it were seven fresh buffalo bull heads which a number of men were
skinning, and out in front of them, in a great half-circle, were
gathered every man, woman, and child of the Mountain Crow tribe. New
Robe wondered what was to be done with the seven buffalo heads; he
suspected that they were to be in some way used in his trial for life.
"'Come!' the chief signed, and led him and the boy to the entrance of
the medicine lodge. There they stood, the mark of many flashing, angry
eyes, and presently the skinners finished their work, and an old chief
placed the shining skulls in a line out from the doorway of the lodge,
each one of them a long step distant from another.
"Again the head chief made signs to New Robe: 'There is your trial for
life,' he said. 'You are to take the boy on your back, and step from
one to the other of those skulls until you step upon the last one;
pass from it to the ground. If you succeed in doing that, you and the
boy are free to go to your home, and none of my people shall harm you
on your way. But should you slip from a skull, and even so much as
touch the ground with your toe, to save your balance, then the
warriors standing out there will fall upon you, and kill you both.'
"New Robe looked long at the seven skulls, considering what he should
do. Being freshly skinned, he knew that they were very slippery. And
then, which would be safest, to step slowly, carefully, from one to
another, or make a run across them touching each one quickly, lightly?
They were far apart; too far for slow, deliberate stepping; he
concluded that the thing to do was to start running from the back of
the lodge, and go along the line of them as fast as he could with his
burden. He signed to the chief that he would do that, and led the boy
to the back of the lodge.
"While going there another thought came to him. He got back of the
boy, and stooped, and while pretending to fix the young one's belt and
leggins, kept spitting in two places upon the ground. He then stepped
squarely in each pool of the spit and then upon soft ground, and
coated his moccasin soles with the sandy earth. Then, suddenly
swinging the boy to his back, and running swiftly across the lodge, he
lit upon the first skull with his right foot, and went leaping on
from one to another as fast as he could with the weight upon his back.
The third skull began to turn with him, and he made a weak leap from
it, barely alighting upon the next. But it held firm and he made a
sure leap from it to the next, and from that to the next, and then,
stepping squarely upon the seventh, and last skull, passed from it to
the ground, and released the boy from his back.
"The crowd stood silent, sullen, watching him. The head chief came to
his side and spoke to them, and they suddenly broke out in loud
cheers. The chief then signed to New Robe: 'There is one thing more
you are asked to do before we send you home. You do not have to do it,
but we hope that you will. Come with me!'
"They went to the lodge of a young chief, and when they were seated,
the chief signed to New Robe: 'My father, once a great chief, is an
old man. He does not want to die of old age and long and painful
illness, and he wants a chance to kill one more enemy before he dies.
He wants to fight you. If he kills you, then that will be good. If
you kill him, then you shall have his war horse and all his weapons,
and I will give you a fine present, and you and the boy shall go to
your home in perfect safety. Now, what say you to that?'
"'I have no weapons,' New Robe objected.
"'Weapons you shall have,' the other replied. 'All the warriors of the
camp are anxious to loan you what they have. You shall go with me and
examine what they have until you find just what you want.'
"New Robe considered the matter. If he won out, what honor, what a
_coup_ it would be to return to his people with the weapons and the
war horse of his enemy. If he lost, if he was killed--a sudden doubt
struck him, and he asked: 'If I fall, what will become of the boy?'
"'We promise you now,' the chiefs both answered, 'that in that case
some of us will take the boy to within sight of the camp of your
people, and send him safely to it.'
"'I take your word for that, and now give me weapons,' said New Robe.
"He was offered his choice of many bows and spears, war clubs and
knives, but took only a short, lithe bow and a handful of
well-feathered arrows. Then, standing within the circle of the lodges,
he awaited the coming of the old chief. He soon appeared, wearing a
beautiful war costume and riding a sorrel pinto war horse. And now,
dressed as he was, and easily controlling his fiery-tempered mount, he
did not seem to be so very old; at a distance one would have thought
him a young warrior. His weapon in hand was a long, scalp-tufted
spear. On his back he carried a bow and otter-skin quiver of arrows,
and in his belt, in a handsome sheath, quill-embroidered, was his
knife. Said New Robe to himself: 'He looks strong, he is brave. Well,
I too must be brave, and watchful.'
"Forth and back across the other side of the big circle rode the old
man, singing a war song, brandishing his spear, keeping his prancing
war horse well in hand. And then, suddenly urging him forward, he came
swift as the wind at New Robe. And he, dropping his tattered wrap,
awaited his coming with ready bow. On he came, shouting his war cry,
and when quite close New Robe let fly his long and heavy-shafted
arrow. It struck the old warrior fair in the ribs. He flinched, the
mounting blood choked off his war cry, but on he came, and with a last
great effort hurled his spear, and fell from his horse and died,--died
without knowing that the weapon had passed high over New Robe's head!
"And then what a shout went up from all the people! Shouts of honor
for the old chief who had preferred death in battle instead of in his
lodge, and shouts too for the young man who had so bravely faced him.
New Robe knew not what to do. He stood looking this way, that way,
uncertainly. Then came to him the son of the old dead chief and signed
to him to take the horse and the weapons of his enemy, and he did so.
Then the young man brought to him another horse, a big and gentle
black: 'I said that I would give you something,' he signed, 'and here
it is. The boy can ride it home. You may go now, both of you, and go
without fear of pursuit: not a man in this camp shall follow you!'
And without wasting any time the two mounted the horses and rode
northward away from the camp.
"In the Blackfeet camp Lone Star's father and mother grieved more and
more for the loss of him, but his sister, Red Cloud Woman, would not
believe that he was dead; had somehow faith that he was alive; that
New Robe would find him, and bring him safely home. And at last, when
she saw that her father and mother were likely to go mad from grief,
she told them that New Robe had gone in search of the boy, and that
she would marry him, even if he returned alone. Morning after morning
she went up on a butte close to camp and watched the great plain
stretching away to the south, and all day long, and often on her couch
at night, prayed for the safe return of brother and lover.
"And then, at last, after many, many days of worried watching, she saw
two riders coming from the south across the plain, and, sure that they
were those she had been praying for, ran to meet them. They were the
missing ones. They sprang from their fine horses, and she kissed
first her brother and then clung to New Robe: 'I am right now your
woman,' she cried, and kissed him again. 'And I am proud to be your
woman,' she went on, 'so take me up behind you and we will all ride
home!'
"She got up behind him on his prancing war horse, and as they rode in
he quickly told her of his adventures, and how, at last, he had fought
and killed the old war chief, and for that had been given the two
horses and all the weapons and fine war clothes she saw. So it was
that, coming into camp, she had the tale of his brave deeds to shout
to the people, and they, gathering close around, honored his name and
gave him a chief's greeting. Yes, the poor orphan had within the
length of one moon become a chief, and had made a mourning father and
mother happy. That very night he and Red Cloud Woman were given a
lodge of their own, and their happiness was complete."
IV
PUHT-O-MUK-SI-KIM-IKS (THE LAKES INSIDE): ST. MARY'S LAKES
_August 10._
We left Little River on the 5th, crossed the big ridge dividing the
Arctic and the Atlantic waters, and made camp here on the big prairie
at the foot of the Upper St. Mary's Lake.
In the old days this great valley, hemmed in by gigantic mountains,
was my favorite hunting ground after the buffalo were exterminated and
there was no more sport to be had upon the plains.
[Illustration: CAMP NEAR LOWER END OF UPPER ST. MARY'S LAKE]