Kitabı oku: «The Vanishing Race: The Last Great Indian Council», sayfa 6

Chief Running Fisher

The story of this war-scarred Gros Ventres veteran emphasizes with double pathos the many times expressed sentiment of this book that the Indian is a vanishing race, for he died within two weeks after returning home from the last Great Indian Council. His words, therefore, are deeply significant: “I feel sad at the thought of not meeting these chiefs again, for I would like to meet them all once more, but I feel pretty sure we will never meet again.”

Chief Running Fisher had measured threescore years of life, and for forty years of that time he had averaged a battle for every other year. Battles in Canada, battles in the mountains, and battles on the plains. He had fought the Sioux, the Blackfeet, the Nez Perce, the Crows, the Shoshones, and the Piegans. He said: “I have twenty shots in my body received in battle. I have had my arm broken and wrist sprained. A bullet went right through one of my arms. In early days I fought with the bow and arrow. In one battle I killed two men, shooting a single arrow through them both. The greatest event of my life occurred when I was shot at the battle of Big Spring and left for dead on the field. My friends kept back the enemy as long as they could and when they saw that I did not revive they left me. I was bleeding from the inside, a coughing of blood out of the throat brought me to. When I came to I found the enemy had departed and I followed the tracks of my own tribe. Some of my friends were shot and I could see by the blood stains on the snow the path they had taken. I was nineteen years of age at this time. It was a long time before I overtook the band. They travelled much faster than I could, but I finally reached the camp and recovered. We had no surgeons and but little care. Every Indian had to be his own doctor. I will tell you about another close call I had. The event that I am now about to relate is the main thing that makes a chief out of a warrior. We had a fight with the Piegans. One of the Piegans had a gun and a dagger, one in each hand. This Piegan ran at me and I ran at him. As we came together I grabbed the Piegan's gun with one hand and his dagger with the other and as I warded off his charge, his gun was fired, and I took the gun and the dagger away from him. Then my friends rushed to my rescue and killed the Piegan and scalped him.”

Turning from battles and wounds, let this old chieftain recur to his boyhood days: “I remember when I was quite a boy the wonderful sun dance. It greatly impressed me. I could not understand it and I asked my father about it and he told me that I could not take part in the sun dance until I had earned my title as a warrior. The sun dance is a custom among the Indians which seeks to elevate a spirit of honour among men as well as women. No young woman dare take part in the sun dance unless she is virtuous, for she is sure to be pointed out and put to shame, and if she does not take part, then suspicion falls upon her and she is likewise put to shame. The men emulate the deeds of their fathers in order that they may take part in the sun dance. And thus this wonderful dance becomes a school for patriotism among the tribes and a stimulus to deeds of valour as well as an incentive to virtue. I do not think that anything has ever made a stronger impression upon me than the sun dance. It was always held in May, a beautiful time of the year, and as we young people watched the various phases of the dance, both young men and young women desired to do right that we might have our share in this wonderful ceremony.”

This passing allusion to one of the great Indian rites and its influence upon Indian character may lead the reader to follow further into this weird enactment.

Another chieftain has been folded in his blanket. The war-bonnet and war-shirt he wears in the picture we made of him were laid beside him in his last sleep, emblems of his last battle and tokens of his final conquest.

Bull Snake

Old Bull Snake, or Snake Bull's, Indian name is Ear-Ous-Sah-Chee-dups, which means male snake. Years ago when far from camp he was bitten by a rattlesnake. The only companion with him did all within his power to save his friend. The death stupor was coming on, and his companion hurried to the camp with the tidings. His relations rushed to the rescue. He finally recovered and has ever since been called Bull Snake. It is a fitting appellation for this grizzled warrior of sixty-eight years. The bow and arrow became the plaything of his boyhood days. With it he sought the lair of wild things and shot with glee the buffalo calf; his final strength winging the arrow through the heart of the buffalo bull. Then came the days of the war trail, eager, savage days – days when the hated foe was pursued on foot and the warpath was followed for very love of war. This passion for war led him to the camp of General Crook, where he was assigned the task of trailing the hostile Sioux. The further story of Bull Snake is best told in his own words:

“At that time I must have been about twenty-three years old. We moved down to the Little Rosebud. I was the first of the scouts to discover the Sioux who were approaching us. After I reported, I mounted my horse and in company with two other scouts went over to locate the Sioux. We found ten Sioux and began to fight. My companions with both of their horses were killed. Then the battle of the Little Rosebud began. The Sioux and Cheyennes were all circling about us. General Crook sent for me. The entire command was surrounded. I thought it was my last day. I asked to be allowed to make a dash for a weak point in the line, his soldiers to follow. I did this and we broke through. Crook right flanked the enemy and won the day. In the counter attack two other Crows were on the ridge with me fighting. I raised my coup stick to strike a Sioux and he shot me, hitting my horse and we fell together. I found that I was badly wounded and could not stand up. I raised up as far as I could and fired three shots at the Sioux. There the battle ended.”

War worn, halting on one foot, this savior of Crook's entire command presents a pitiful remnant of Indian valour. Speech more pathetic never came from the lips of any man: “The greatest thing to me is the education of my children. Since I was wounded, about thirty-six years ago, I have been thinking over my life. My leg has been weak and my heart has been sorry. I feel that I have suffered because I have followed my Great Father's order. I am glad I fought for the soldiers, for I think it was the right thing to do. Because of my wounded leg I am not able to work; sometimes I nearly starve, and yet I feel that I did the right thing. Will you be kind enough to see that I get my pension? I need it!” Be kind enough? Let the Government make answer in gratitude to the sagacious bravery of a red man bearing through life his daily burden of pain and the greater suffering of an unrequited heart who gloriously met the test of sacrifice.

Mountain Chief

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.”