Omaq-kat-tsa, carrying with it the meaning of Big Brave, is a name
eminently fitting to Mountain Chief. The nobility of his presence, the
Roman cast of his face, the keen penetration of his eye, the breadth of
his shoulders, the dignity with which he wears the sixty-seven years of
his life, all conspire to make this hereditary chief of the Fast Buffalo
Horse band of the Blackfeet preeminent among the Indians and eminent among
any class of men. He wears his hair on the left side in two braids; on
the right side he wears one braid, and where the other braid should be,
the hair hangs in long, loose black folds. He is very demonstrative. He
acts out in pantomime all that he says. He carries a tin whistle pendent
to his necklace. First he is whistling, again he is singing, then he is
on his hands and knees on the ground pawing up the dust like a buffalo
when he is angry. His gestures are violent and his speech is guttural,
like the sputtering of water from an exhaust. He sings a war song of his
own composition and you can hear him for a mile. When asked to tell a
story of his boyhood days he said that rather than tell such a story he
would prefer to describe the management of the camp under the two great
chiefs; his father, Mountain Chief, and Chief Lame Bull. These two men
signed the treaty between the United States and the Blackfoot tribe,
together with other tribes, in 1855, when Franklin Pierce was President.
The historic information vouchsafed by Mountain Chief regarding the
conduct of an Indian camp, their manner and method of hunting buffalo, and
the purposes to which they put the buffalo, has never before been put in
type:
“I remember the different chiefs in the camp when I was a boy, and how
they governed the camp. My father, Mountain Chief, and his chum, Chief
Lame Bull, were living in the same tepee. They each had a medicine pipe.
These two chiefs made the plans before they moved the camp. After the
plans were made, they took their medicine pipes and placed them against
the rear side of the tepee. That indicated that the camp was going to
remain for another day. The women of the camp were sent around by the
various warriors to note the position of the pipes so they could tell what
the plans were. When they came back, they told their husbands the pipes
were in the rear of the tepee; then the husbands would say: ‘The camp is
going to remain for another day.’ Then the chiefs sent for Four Bear, who
asked certain Indians to go around and tell the people that the camp would
remain for another day. Then Four Bear went toward the camp from the
sunrise and walked around the camp toward the sunset. Then the Indians
told their wives and children to keep still, and see what was going to be
said. Four Bear would then tell the people that the camp would remain
another day and to tell their wives to go after wood. Then the women took
the travois and went after wood. Then the chiefs sent for the leaders and
warriors; we called them ‘crazy dogs.’ The leaders of the crazy dogs came
into the tepee of Mountain Chief and Lame Bull, and my father, Mountain
Chief, told these two crazy dogs to start before sunrise, and to take with
them the other crazy dogs to find where there was a lot of good fresh
water, and a lot of grass where they might camp, and also where they might
find the nearest herd of buffalo. The crazy dogs found a good place where
there was plenty of buffalo and water, and then they marked the camp.
When these crazy dogs found a location for the camp they were fortunate
enough to find a big herd of buffalo. On their return, before they
reached the camp they began to sing a crazy dog song, riding abreast. It
means: ‘A song to sharpen your knife, and patch up your stomach, for you
are going to have something good to eat.’ They made a circle, coming to
camp from the sunrise, and moved toward the sunset, and then the leaders
told the camp they had seen lots of buffalo. Then they dismounted and
went home. After the crazy dogs had had their meal, they went over to the
tepee of the chiefs; then they told the chiefs they had found a good
camping place, good ground, good water, and a big herd of buffalo just
beyond. The crazy dogs had their smoke, it was late when they went home,
and then they sent for Four Bear. Four Bear went to the camp, told the
people concerning their new camp, and the next morning the women took the
medicine pipes and put them at the side of the tepee looking toward the
direction where they were going to camp. Husbands told their wives to go
out and see on which side of the tepee the medicine pipes were placed,
that they might know where they were going. Then the wives came in and
told them that the medicine pipes pointed in a northerly direction. The
husbands told the wives that the camp was going to move north. The camp
broke up that very morning. The chiefs and their wives sat by their
tepees in a half circle, smoking while the camp was being broken up.
After the chiefs were through smoking, they got up, and found the camp
ready to move. They got a lot of mixed tobacco ready, and then they got
on their horses. The chiefs started out in procession. After going some
distance they halted; the crazy dogs followed, standing on each side,
watching the movement of the camp to see that everybody was out. After
everybody had left the camp, the chiefs followed the procession. When
they thought it was noon they made a halt. They took their travois and
saddles from the horses, and rested; then had their lunch. The chiefs
then told Four Bear to get the camp in traveling shape again, and went on.
Finally they came to the spot where the camping place was marked. They
then took the medicine pipes and put them on a tripod, and the warriors
came and sat around and smoked. Four Bear was then told to get the people
settled, to tie up the buffalo horses, and get ready for the hunt. Four
Bear then told the people not to get a meal but to get a little lunch, and
get ready for the hunt. Then the chiefs started out for the buffalo, the
hunters following. They stopped halfway before they got to the herd, and
told all the hunters not to start for the buffalo until they were all
ready and everybody had a fair chance. In the meantime one of the Indians
sneaked away to crawl up toward the buffalo. Then this fellow chased the
buffalo, and the crazy dogs took after him. When they got him, they broke
his gun, his arrows and bow, broke his knife, cut his horse’s tail off,
tore off his clothes, broke his saddle in pieces, tore his robe in pieces,
cut his rope into small bits, also his whip. Then they sent him off
afoot. About that time the buffalo had stopped again, then the main body
got on their horses, and started the chase. If a hunter hit a buffalo
with one arrow, he gave a scream, and that indicated that he had hit him
just once. There were very few guns in those days and those were
flint-locks. Sometimes when a hunter rode side by side with a buffalo,
and shot the animal, the arrow would go clear through. The Indians were
very proud and careful of their arrows. They did not wish to break them.
That is the reason why they shot them on the side, so that when the
buffalo fell the arrow would not be broken. Lots of the buffalo fell on
their knees, and would begin to move from side to side. Then the Indian,
for fear that the arrow would be broken, jumped off his horse and pulled
it out. The hunter then tied his horse to the horns of the buffalo for
fear that he might be attacked by enemies at any moment. After this they
took out their knives and sharpened them on hard steel, like the flint
with which they made fire. All the time they were sharpening their knives
they were looking around for the approach of the enemy. The fire steel
was scarce, we had to use rocks most of the time. The knives we procured
from the Hudson Bay Company. When we killed a buffalo bull, we placed him
on his knees, then we began to skin him down the back of the neck, down
the backbone, splitting it on each side. The cows we laid on their backs,
and cut down the middle. We used the buffalo cowhide for buffalo robes;
the buffalo bulls’ hides were split down the back because from this hide
we made war shields, parflesche bags, and saddle blankets. The husbands
would tell the wives to take care of the heads. The wives took the brains
out of the buffalo skull and mixed them with the largest part of the
liver, and after mixing well, used the brains and liver in tanning the
hides. Then the wife was told to take out the tripe and skin it, for they
used the skin as a bucket with which to carry water when they got home.
They had strips of rawhide about three feet long and a quarter of an inch
wide and tied the meat so that they could carry it home on the horses.
They took the backbone after it had been cleaned of the flesh, and tied
the meat to that and threw it over the back of the horse so that the load
would not hurt the back of the horse. When we got home with the meat we
unloaded. The men who had gone without their wives simply got off their
horses and went into the tepee. The women rushed out to get the meat.
Then the women took the horse with the meat on it to their father-in-law.
Then the mother-in-law hurried to get the meal, taking the ribs of the
buffalo, setting them up against the fire to roast. After the meat was
cooked it was cut in slices and placed in a wooden bowl, and the
mother-in-law took the meat over to the lodge of her son-in-law. That was
all we had for our meal. We had no coffee or anything else to eat, but we
made a good meal from the meat of the buffalo. Then the son-in-law said
to his wife: Your mother has been feeding me all the time, now you go out
and catch that mare and give it to her as a present. There was plenty of
meat in the camp and then we boys would go out and play buffalo. We would
take a long piece of rawhide, fasten a piece of meat to it, and one of us
would drag it along while the others fired arrows into it—the arrows we
used for killing squirrels and birds. When we chased the boy dragging the
piece of meat he would stop after we overtook him, and paw the dust and
would imitate the buffalo bull, and pick up the piece of meat and swing it
round his head, all the while we were trying to shoot arrows into it. But
sometimes in the swinging of the meat with the arrows in it a boy would
get hit, and then he would run back and fall down, and we would run back
to him and say that he had been hooked. He would be groaning all the
time. Then we would pick up weeds and squeeze the juice out of them,
acting as though we were doctors. About that time night came on, and the
chiefs sent for Four Bear, and Four Bear would go around and tell the
people that the grass in that camp was pretty well taken up. The next
morning the women would take their medicine pipes and put them on the
side, indicating where the next camp was going to be, and thus we went on
from camp to camp.”
“The years have passed on, and now the old warriors and myself get
together and talk about the old buffalo days, and we feel very lonesome.
We talk over the camping places, and the old days of the chase, and the
events of those times, and we feel glad again. When we think of the old
times we think also of the white man for it was their arms that made the
buffalo extinct. If the Indians had had nothing but arrows, the buffalo
would be left to-day. We blame the Government again, for they told the
agents not to sell ammunition to the Indians, and they sold this
ammunition on the sly. This was done so that the Indians could get the
hides for the traders.”
“The greatest event in my life was in the war of the Black-feet against
the Crees, at Hope Up, Canada. My horse and myself were both covered with
blood. Let me tell you about this battle. The war was between the
Blackfeet and the Crees. The camp was on Old Man’s River. The bands were
so many that they were camped on every bend of the river. My father,
Mountain Chief, was at the upper end of the camp. I was twenty-two years
old at the time. It was in the fall of the year, and the leaves had all
fallen. The lower camp was attacked by the Crees at night. The people
were just getting up in the morning when the news came that the lower camp
had been attacked by the Crees. I got my best horse; it was a gray horse.
My father led his band in company with Big Lake who that summer had been
elected a big chief. We rode up over the ridge while in the plain below
the battle was raging. As we rode down the hill slope, I began to sing my
war song. I carried the shield in my hand and this song that I sung
belonged to that shield. One of the medicine men dreamed that whoever
held this shield would not be hit by the bullets. While singing I put in
the words: ‘My body will be lying on the plains.’ When I reached the line
of battle I did not stop, but rode right in among the Crees, and they were
shooting at me from behind and in front. When I rode back the same way
the men made a break for the coulee. As soon as the men got into the
coulee they dug a pit. I was lying about ten yards away on the side of
the hill. I was singing while lying there. I could not hear on account
of the roar of the guns, and could not see for the smoke. About that time
they heard my whistle, and the Crees made a break for the river. Then the
Blackfeet made an onrush for the Crees and I ran over two of them before
they got to the river. As they were crossing the river I jumped off my
horse and took my spear and stabbed one of the Crees between the
shoulders. He had a spear and I took that away from him. I jumped off my
horse again, and just as I returned there was a Cree who raised his gun to
fire at me. I ran over him, and he jumped up and grabbed my horse by the
bridle. I swung my horse’s head around to protect myself and took the
butt of my whip and knocked him down. When I struck him he looked at me
and I found that his nose had been cut off. I heard afterward that a bear
had bitten his nose off. After I knocked him down, I killed him. I
jumped on my horse and just then I met another Cree. We had a fight on
our horses; he shot at me and I shot at him. When we got close together I
took his arrows away from him, and he grabbed me by the hair of the head.
I saw him reach for his dagger, and just then we clinched. My war-bonnet
had worked down on my neck, and when he struck at me with his dagger it
struck the war-bonnet, and I looked down and saw the handle sticking out,
and grabbed it and killed the other Indian. Then we rushed the Crees into
the pit again, and my father came up with one of the old muskets and
handed it to me. It had seven balls in it, and when I fired it it kicked
so hard it almost killed me. I feel that I had a more narrow escape by
shooting that gun than I had with the Indians. When we returned I had
taken nine different scalps. The Crees who had not been scalped had taken
refuge in the scant forest, and my father said to quit and go home. So we
took pity on the tribe, and let them go, so they could tell the story. I
remember that we killed over three hundred, and many more that I cannot
remember. When we returned we began to count how many we had killed. We
crossed the creek and went to the pit, and they were all in a pile. Then
we were all singing around the pit, and I put in the words, ‘The guns,
they hear me.’ And everybody turned and looked at me, and I was a great
man after that battle. Then we went home and began to talk about the
battle, and the Indians who were dead. There never was any peace between
the Crees and the Black-feet; they were always bitter enemies. When the
battle began, the leader of the Crees came right up to our tepee and slit
it, and said: ‘You people are sleeping yet, and I came,’ I fired a gun
and killed him. The Crees took their knives and slit the tepees of our
village down the sides and then rushed in. When the Crees rushed into the
tepees they took everything they could lay their hands on, killing the
women and children, and that made me mad. That was why I fought so hard
that day.”
[War Memories]