THE SUN-GLASS
"How would you like to travel about with the Pi-kun-i for a time, and
learn their language?"
I could only stare at him, hardly believing my ears, and he added: "I am
sure that you would be in no more danger than you are here in the fort,
or I would not propose this."
"I would rather do it than anything else! It is just what I want to do!"
I told him.
"Let me explain the situation to you fully," he went on. "But, first,
did you ever hear of Lewis and Clark?
"No? Well, they are two American Army officers who, a few years ago, led
an expedition from the Mississippi River up the Missouri River to its
head in the Rocky Mountains, and thence down the waters of the Oregon to
its confluence with the Pacific Ocean. They were the first white men
ever to see the country at the headwaters of the Missouri, and between
it and the ocean. Now, in the dispatches that came to me with the goods,
yesterday, I received most disturbing news: Following the trail of Lewis
and Clark, our rival, the American Fur Company, is pushing westward and
establishing posts on the Missouri, the upper part of which is in our
own territory. I am ordered to learn if it has entered our territory,
and if so, to take steps to block its trade with our Blackfoot tribes.
The Pi-kun-i are going south to the Missouri plains for the summer as
soon as they finish their trade with us, and I want you to go with them,
and, while learning their language, keep an eye out for our rivals. I
can't trust Antoine to do this, and anyhow he will never become a good
interpreter. I believe that you will soon master the language."
Of course the factor was mistaken. The Missouri River country was not in
our territory. We were to learn that later. Nor did we then have any
idea of the vast extent of the hunting-ground of the Blackfeet. It was
for me to discover that it extended from the Saskatchewan, yes, even
from the Slave Lakes, south to their Elk River of the South, which is
the Yellowstone River of the whites, and from the Rocky Mountains
eastward for an average width of more than three hundred miles. A part
of it, from the tributaries of the Missouri south, had been Crow
country, but the Blackfeet had driven them from it. The Pi-kun-i, with
their allies, the Ut-se-na, or Gros Ventres, lived for the greater part
of the time in the southern part of it, along the Missouri and its
northern and southern tributaries, and the other two tribes, with their
Athabaskans, the Sak-sis, liked best the plains of the Saskatchewan and
its tributaries.
Before the advent of the horse the Blackfeet tribes had all lived in the
Slave Lake country. The Crees had so named these great bodies of water,
for the reason that in that far-away time the Blackfeet made slaves of
the enemies they captured. As nearly as I could learn, it was between
1680 and 1700 when the Blackfeet began to obtain horses by raids far to
the south, even to Old Mexico, and in 1741 or 1742 obtained a few guns
from the post on the Assiniboine River founded by the Sieur de la
Vérendrie, that unfortunate explorer who was the first white man to see
the Rocky, or as he named them, the Shining, Mountains. With both guns
and horses, the Blackfeet were not long in taking possession of the rich
game country to the south of the Slave Lakes, and driving from it not
only the Crows, but other tribes as well.
On the day after my talk with the factor, he had an interview with Lone
Walker, head chief of the Pi-kun-i, to which I was an interested
listener. It was agreed, as well as Antoine could explain the matter,
that I was to travel south in his care, living in his lodge, and riding
his horses, and that upon bringing me safe back to the fort when he and
his tribes returned to trade, he should be given a gun, two blankets,
and two lengths of twist tobacco. Rich presents, indeed! More than
enough, as the factor said, to insure his taking the greatest care of
me. And anyhow my heart went out to the chief. Tall, dignified in
bearing, his handsome face and eyes expressive of a kind and honest
nature, I felt from the start that he would be a good friend to me, and
I was not mistaken. I little realized at that time, however, what a
really great man he was with his people.
Owing to their desire to start south at once, the Pi-kun-i were the
first to trade in their take of furs. They were a matter of ten or
twelve days doing it, and in the meantime I kept pretty close in the
trade-room listening to Antoine's interpretations of their needs, and
memorizing the words. In that way I learned their names for the
different trade articles, and a few helpful sentences as well, such as
the equivalent in their language for "What is it?" "Where is it?" "What
is it named?" and so on. And then, one day, I saw Antoine's wife sitting
with a Sak-si woman, the two apparently conversing with one another by
means of signs. I asked Antoine about it and learned that it was the
sign language, used by all the tribes of the plains; that almost
anything could be told by it, even stories, and that his wife understood
it very well.
"Then why don't you learn it? Would it not be of great help in your
interpreting?" the factor asked him.
"I am try! I am do my possible! Sare, honneur, my han's, my fingare, he
is not queek to do it!" he answered.
"Huh! Antoine, you're a fool! Yes, and so am I, or I would have known
about this sign language, and have learned it long since!" the factor
exclaimed.
"My woman, she will teach it to you; I will help," Antoine volunteered.
We began lessons with her that very evening, and before I left I had
pretty well learned it. The signs are invariably so significant of the
thought to be expressed, that, once seen and understood, they are not
easily forgotten. I know not where the sign language originated, but I
think that it came to the people of the plains from Mexico, spreading
from one tribe to another until it finally reached the Blackfeet. The
tribes of the forests, and of the two coasts, and the Great Lakes, knew
it not.
At last the morning came upon which the Pi-kun-i were to break camp. On
the evening before Lone Walker had sent my outfit of things over to his
lodge, ready to be put upon one of his pack horses, and now, leading a
horse for me, he came to the fort with his under-chiefs for a farewell
meal and smoke with the factor.
I hastily ate my morning meat and, while the smoking was going on,
saddled and bridled the horse. The factor had given me his own light,
English, hunting-saddle, and I thought it a very comfortable one to ride
upon. Later, when I got from a warrior a Spanish saddle that he had
taken in a raid far to the south, I learned what comfort in riding
really was!
The horse saddled, I said good-bye to the men. The _voyageurs_ with whom
I had come to the fort were soon to load the boats with furs and return
to York Factory, and eventually Montreal, and I handed the head man a
letter for my mother, telling her of my safe arrival at the fort, of the
thousands of wild Indians that I had seen, and the expedition upon which
I was about to embark. If all went well, she would receive it in about a
year's time.
The round of smoking ended, the chiefs came out with the factor, and I
said a last good-bye to him, and we mounted and set forth.
There were just twenty-four of the chiefs, one for each band, or gens,
of the Pi-kun-i--Lone Walker, as I afterward learned, being chief of the
I-nuk-siks, or Small Robes Band, as well as head chief of the tribe.
With them were five other men, each wearing his hair done into a huge,
furbound knot on the foretop of his head, the insignia of the sun
priest, or so-called medicine man. None of the party wore war bonnets,
or war costumes, and that rather surprised me. I soon learned that they
were never worn except when the men were going into battle--if there was
time to put them on, and when dancing, or observing some great religious
ceremony. No! The decked-out Indian, hunting, or traveling, or sitting
about in camp, and the Indian wearing nothing but a breech clout and a
pair of moccasins, is just the Indian of the artists' dreams! My
Indians wore plain leather shirts, and wide-flapped leggings, and
quill-embroidered moccasins, and their wraps were also of leather, some
of them painted with pictographs of the wearer's adventures in war and
hunting.
But for all that they were picturesque enough. Each one carried a shield
slung from the left arm, and bow and arrows in a case and quiver at the
back, and a gun across the saddle front. Beautifully dyed quill
embroidery on the fringed leather pipe and tobacco sacks dangling from
their belts, and the bright, painted symbols on the covering of their
shields gave the needed color to their otherwise somewhat soberly plain,
everyday wear.
And what splendidly built men they were! What fine features they had,
and the small, perfectly formed hands and feet of real gentlemen. And I
learned that they had the manners of gentlemen. That in their daily
intercourse they were ever courteous to one another. That their jesting
and joking was never rude or coarse, and how they did love a good joke
and laugh! And proud they were, of their lineage, and their war records,
and their women and children, of their great herds of horses, and their
vast domain. But it was a just and natural pride, in no way different
from the pride of our own best people. And with it was great kindliness
of heart and ready proffers of help for all the unfortunate, for widows
and orphans, the old and the sick. Such were the old-time Blackfoot
chiefs.
Camp had been broken while the chiefs were saying their farewells in the
fort, and now, as we rode out upon the plain from the river bottom, we
saw the great caravan strung out away ahead of us and to our right. It
was like a huge snake making its way southward over the ridges and the
hollows of the plain, a snake about three miles in length!
It was advancing at a slow trot, and at a livelier pace we rode along
its length to take the lead. Each family had its place in it, the women
and children riding pack and travois horses, the men and youths driving
the loose ones. The trappings of the horses, broad leather breast bands
and cruppers, blazed with color, beautifully worked designs of
porcupine-quill embroidery. The quaintly shaped _parflèches_, fringed
pouches and sacks of rawhide and leather, upon the pack horses were
brightly painted. Some horses, generally white ones daubed with red
ochre, the sacred color, carried nothing but the pipe and pouches of a
medicine man, and were always led. The lodge-pole horses dragged,
generally, four lodge poles, two fastened to each side of the saddle by
the small ends, and these and the ends of the travois poles scraped
harshly into the plain and wore deeper than ever the many furrows of the
broad trail.
As I rode with the chiefs along the edge of the long column I believe
that every man, woman, and child of it gave me a smile, and some sort of
greeting--one of which, "Ok-yi, nap-i-an-i-kap-i!" (Welcome, white
youth), I already knew. And to all I replied: "Ok-yi, ni-tuk-a!"
(Welcome, friend), which was a sad error when addressed to a woman or
girl, embarrassing them, and causing all who heard to laugh. But the
greetings and the smiles gave me heart; I felt that I was already liked
by these people of the plains, and that was pleasant. I certainly liked
them.
We passed the long column and rode on ahead of it, but not in the real
lead. Ahead of us several hundred men, the scouts for the day, rode
spread out like a great fan far to the right and left of the trail, as
well as some of them upon it. They were not hunting; time and again we
saw herds of buffaloes and antelopes rushing off out of their way, and
none pursued them.
It was about noon when, topping a low ridge, Lone Walker led us a little
to one side of the trail and dismounted. So did we all, tethering our
horses to bunches of sage or greasewood, and then sitting in a little
circle on the top of the rise. A medicine man unfastened the fringed and
embroidered sack dangling at his belt and, getting out pipe and tobacco
and some dried leaves of _l'herb_ to mix with the tobacco, made
leisurely but careful preparations for a smoke. First he thoroughly
cleaned the huge, black, stone bowl, blowing through it, and then the
separate, long, carved wooden stem, to make sure that they were clear.
Then he fitted them together, and little by little filled the bowl with
the mixture of tobacco and _l'herb_, tamping down each pinch with a
small, blunt-ended stick. This done to his entire satisfaction, he
unslung from his shoulder a section from a birch tree, about four inches
in diameter and six inches in length, removed its wooden stopper, and I
saw that it was hollowed out, and clay lined. Turning the mouth of the
strange receptacle to the ground, he gave it a rap or two and out came a
piece of partly charred punk wood which he quickly picked up and blew
upon, and I realized that this was the Blackfoot way of keeping fire.
But, blow as he would, there came no glow in the punk, no rise of smoke.
The fire was out.
With an exclamation of disappointment the man dropped the punk back into
place, put in the stopper, meantime looking around the circle to see if
any one carried one of these fire boxes, as I may call them. None did.
Here and there a man spoke, evidently remarking upon his disappointment.
And then, suddenly, I thought of my grandfather's present to me, the
sun-glass in the pouch at my side, and I called out to the medicine man:
"I will light it for you!" In my excitement I forgot that he knew no
word of my language.
But I had called his attention to me, and that of all the others too.
They watched me closely as I fumbled in the pouch for the glass, drew it
out and removed its silk wrapping. Having done that, I made signs to the
medicine man to put the stem of the pipe to his mouth. He did so, and I
focused the glass upon the charge of the tobacco mixture in the bowl.
Almost at once it began to turn black and a thin streak of smoke to rise
from it, and, drawing steadily upon the stem, the medicine man filled
his mouth with smoke, his eyes growing bigger and bigger, until at last
he let out a great blow of it, and then, with a shout of surprise,
sprang to his feet and held the pipe aloft toward the sun. At that all
the other chiefs sprang up, and shouting I knew not what, made a rush
for me, and I believed my time had come!
Antoine had told me that the Blackfeet--as he called them, the heathen
Blackfeet--worshiped the sun. The thought flashed through my mind that
I was to be killed for using the sacred fire of their god! And as
wild-eyed, excited, shouting chiefs came crowding around me I threw up
my hands, in one of them the fateful glass, and cried: "I did not mean
harm! It is a glass, nothing but a glass!"
As though they could understand! Or my pitiful cry save me!
But suddenly, instead of blows I saw that Lone Walker and others nearest
me were stroking my shoulders, my breast, and back with their open
hands, and then their own bodies, and the others, crowding, reached in
between them and touched me wherever they could, and then stroked
themselves, meantime shouting something to the head of the passing
caravan.
Out from it rushed all who heard, men and women, and sprang from their
horses and surged in to me, women frantically edging in under the arms
of the men and rubbing their suckling infants against any part of my
body that they could reach. And still badly frightened, I thrust the
glass into Lone Walker's hand and made signs the best I could that I
gave it to him. With a shout he held it aloft, tears streaming from his
eyes, and began what I sensed must be a prayer to the sun. At that a
great hush came upon the ever-increasing crowd. All listened closely,
occasionally crying out something that I afterward learned was as we
would say: "Yes! Yes! Have pity upon us all, O sun!" Then, presently, he
finished the prayer, and looking around at the people addressed a few
words to them. Whereupon they mounted and resumed their places in the
column, and moved on.
The chiefs, however, again sat down in a circle, Lone Walker signing to
me to sit beside him, and the pipe was passed from hand to hand, each
one in turn taking a few whiffs of smoke from it and blowing it first
toward the sun, and then to the ground. At last the pipe came to me. I
passed it on to the chief on my right, but he instantly handed it back
and gave me to understand that I was to smoke. I did so, blowing the
smoke to sky and earth as I had seen the others do, and then passed it
on. I had never smoked. The taste of it was bitter and nauseating in my
mouth; my head soon began to swim and I felt terribly sick for a long
time. I did not smoke again until I was past my twenty-fifth birthday.
Well, when the pipe was smoked out and put away we mounted our horses
and rode on, I still sick but quite over my scare. Word of what I had
done, of my bringing down sun fire, had evidently passed back the entire
length of the column, for as I rode on to the head of it with the chiefs
the people all called out to me again, and this time with a new name for
me, and in their manner respect, even awe, was evident enough. They
called me now, "Nat-o-wap-an-i-kap-i," which I thought had to do with
the sun (nat-os). I was right; I soon learned that the word meant sun
youth, or sacred youth. I was very proud of the name, and very glad of
my grandfather's happy thought in selecting the glass for me. True, I
had brought it this long way across the plains only to part with it, but
my one chance use of it had given me important standing with the tribe.
We traveled on steadily ahead of the column until about four o'clock in
the afternoon, and then once more dismounted and gathered in a circle,
this time on the edge of a long slope running down to the timbered
valley of a small stream. Again the medicine man got out his pipe and
filled it, and I taught Lone Walker how to light the charge with the
sun-glass, every one intently watching, and making exclamations of
wonder and satisfaction when the feat was accomplished. This time I
firmly passed the pipe when it came to me, and while the chiefs smoked
and chatted I watched the long procession of the tribe pass down the
slope into the valley, and scatter out over a big, grassy flat on the
far side of the creek. There the horses were relieved of their burdens,
and a few minutes later every lodge of the camp was up in place, and
the women were carrying into them their various family belongings, and
going for wood and water. All that was the women's work; the men sat
about until all was completed.
As soon as the pipe was smoked out we got upon our horses and rode
slowly down the slope to the creek, and then scattered out into camp.
Lone Walker led me to the southwest part of the big circle of lodges,
which was the allotted place for his band, the Small Robes, and to one
of two immense lodges, which were both his property.
We got down from our horses, and I was about to unsaddle mine, when a
woman took him from me, and signed that I was to follow the chief into
the lodge. I did so, and, making a step in through the doorway, heard a
growling and snorting that made my heart jump. And well it might, for
there on each side of me, reared back and hair all bristled up, was a
half-grown grizzly bear!
I dared not move, neither to retreat, nor go forward, and thus I stood
for what seemed to me hours of time, and then Lone Walker scolded the
bears and they dropped down at rest and I passed them and went to the
place pointed out to me, the comfortable couch on the left of the
chief's.
I think that the chief allowed me to stand so long facing the bears,
just to try me; to learn if I had any nerve. I was glad that I had not
cried out or fled. I soon became friendly with those bears, and often
played with them. It has been said that grizzlies cannot be tamed. Those
two were tame. They had been captured when small cubs, so small that
they made no resistance to being taken up, and for months had been held
up to the teats of mares, there to get the milk without which they could
not have lived. I may say here that they disappeared one night in the
spring of their third year, and were never seen again. They had at last
answered the call of their kind.
It was with intense interest that I looked about the lodge, the first
that I had ever entered, and which was to be my home for I knew not how
many months.
It was a lodge of twenty-eight buffalo cow skins, tanned into soft
leather, trimmed to proper shape to fit together, and sewed with strong
sinew thread. It was all of twenty-four feet in diameter, and the lodge
poles were at least thirty-six feet long, and so heavy that a horse
dragged but two of them. There were thirty poles, and the lodge skin was
in two sections. All around the inside was a leather lining running from
the ground up to a height of about six feet, and attached to a rawhide
line running from pole to pole. This made an air space between the lodge
skin and the lining of the thickness of the poles. The pegged lodge skin
did not reach the ground by four inches or more, so the air rushed in
under it, and up between it and the lining, and out of the top of the
lodge. This created a good draught for the fire and carried off the
smoke. No air came in through or under the lining, it reflected the
heat of the fire, and because of this simple construction the lodge was
warm and comfortable even in the coldest winter weather. The lining was
brightly painted, the design being a series of three different long,
narrow, geometric figures distinctively Blackfoot.
All around the lodge, excepting on each side of the doorway, were the
couches of the occupants, ten in number, a slanting back-rest of willow
slats at the head and foot of each one. In the triangular spaces thus
left between the couches, and on each side of the doorway, were stored
no end of _parflèches_, bags, pouches, and leather-wrapped bundles
containing the property of the different occupants of the lodge. Besides
Lone Walker and myself, there were eight women and nine children,
ranging from babies up to boys and girls twelve and fourteen and
eighteen years old, the latter being a boy named I-sas-to, or Red Crow,
whose couch and sitting-place I was to share.
Be not shocked or surprised when I tell you that Lone Walker had
nineteen wives. Eight were in this lodge. The others and their children,
and the chief's old father and mother were in the adjoining, big,
twenty-eight-skin lodge. At first this polygamy was very repugnant to
me; but I soon saw how necessary it was. The Blackfeet men were
continually falling in battle with their many enemies, and only by
becoming plural wives could the large preponderance of women be cared
for.
Lone Walker's first, or head wife, named Sis-tsi-ah-ki, or Little Bird
Woman, was a fine-looking woman of about thirty-five years. She was one
of the happiest persons I have known. There was always a smile on her
face, she sang constantly at her work, and her heart was as good as her
smile; she was always doing something nice for others. In a way she was
the head, or supervisor of the other wives, apportioning to each the
work that was for the family. But each woman had her own private
property, including horses, and her share of the meat and hides brought
in.
There was a big gathering in our lodge that night, men constantly coming
in to see the wonderful instrument that could bring down sun fire. It
was late when we got to rest. The fire died down. Like the others, I
disrobed under the coverings of my couch, and then I went to sleep with
never a thought of fear, I, a lone white boy, in a camp of about nine
thousand wild Indians!
Lone Walker aroused us soon after daylight the next morning and had me
go with him and all his male children to bathe in the stream. Winter and
summer the Blackfeet never neglected that daily bath, although sometimes
they had to go out and rub themselves with snow, because there was
nowhere open water. In winter the women and girls took their baths in
sweat lodges.
After the bath we had an early meal of dried meat, roasted before the
fire, and small portions of rich, dried buffalo back fat, which was used
as the whites use butter.
While we were eating, Lone Walker gave me to understand that his two
lodges were needing fresh meat, and that with his son I could go on
ahead of the moving camp and kill some. That pleased me; it was just
what I was longing to do. You can imagine how much more pleased I was
when the great herd of the chief's horses were brought in, and, saying,
"You gave me your fire instrument, I now give you something," he
selected ten good horses in the herd and said that they were all mine.
How rich I felt!
Long before the lodges came down Red Crow and I were riding out along
the great south trail. As we topped the slope of the valley and I looked
out upon the immense plain ahead, and at the snow-covered peaks of the
great mountains bordering it on the west, I said to myself, that this
was the happiest day of my life, for I, Hugh Monroe, just a boy, was
entering a great section of the country that white men had never
traversed!
And, oh, how keen I was to see it all--its plains and stream valleys,
its tremendous mountains, its pine-crowned, flat-topped sentinel buttes!
Mine was to be the honor of learning their Blackfeet names, and
translating them for the map our company was to make for the use of its
men.
Also, I looked forward with great desire for the adventures which I felt
sure I was to have in that unknown land. Had I known what some of them
were to be, I would perhaps have turned right then and made my way back
to the safety of the fort.