August 12
Last night we all gathered in Stabs-by-Mistake’s lodge, and, while the pipe was filled and refilled, and passed from hand to hand on many rounds, we had more tales, strange and weird, of the people of the ancient days. One that our host told especially interested me, and here it is, literally translated for your perusal. It was the story, he said, of
“One Horn, Shamer of Crows
“It was in the long ago time, when all three of our tribes, the Blackfeet proper, the Bloods, and we, the Pikun′i, whom the whites mistakenly call Blackfeet, were still living in the North country. The camp of the Pikun′i was on Big River, close up to the foot of the mountains. One of the great chiefs of the tribe was One Horn. Very brave he was, and very rich, for his band of horses numbered more than a hundred head. He had two wives, sisters, but no children. Many orphans called him father, for he had poor old couples care for them, and kept them all well supplied with meat and with skins for clothing. He was a peculiar man, was One Horn. He seldom visited in other lodges, and was a man of few words; it was always difficult to get him to tell of his brave deeds.
“One summer night One Horn had an uneasy dream about his horses, and with the first faint light of coming day arose, washed and dressed himself, and took up his weapons and went out to see if his herd was anywhere in sight. He climbed to a little rise on the edge of the plain, saw them quietly feeding at a distance, and then saw something else: two men asleep in a coulée close under the little rise. They were, he thought, young men of the camp, watchers of the horse herds, and he concluded to surprise them and scold them for sleeping when they should be watching the plains for the approach of enemies. More from habit than anything else, he drew his bow, fitted a war arrow to it, and then, creeping close to the sleeping ones, shouted: ‘Awake! You lazy ones, awake!’
“To his great surprise they were two enemies, who sprang up at the sound of his voice, and he shot one of them in the breast, and he fell, and as the other turned and ran, he fired an arrow at him and struck him in the back, but he kept on running, the arrow dangling and swaying from his back, and he soon disappeared in the thick brush bordering the river. One Horn went back to camp and sent the warriors out to look for the wounded man, but they never found him.
“Although a very brave warrior, One Horn’s voice was always for peace. He thought much about the wars of tribe against tribe and the great loss of lives they caused, and wished that he could put an end to it all. He counted up the different tribes with whom his people were at war—the Sioux, the Assiniboines, Cheyennes, Pawnees, Snakes, Bannocks, Pend d’Oreilles, Flatheads, Nez Percés, Kootenai, and Crows. And the worst of them all were the Crows. He determined to go to the Crows and try to make peace between them and his people.
“Another thought came to him: It was best to say nothing to his people about his plan, for many would make serious objection to it. If he succeeded, they should know all about it upon his return. If he failed, he would never tell them where he had been. So, one evening, he gave his women orders what to do, and kept his horses close in around his lodge. Late that night, when all the camp was asleep, down came the lodge, the pack and travois horses were quietly loaded, and he and his women headed southward, he driving his big herd in the lead. The next morning the people found that they had a mystery that they could not solve: One Horn was gone with all his belongings, gone without telling them one word of his intentions! Why had he left them so secretly, and whither had he gone? They never ceased talking about it and wishing that he would return; they felt safe when he was at their backs.
“Traveling south day after day along the foot of the mountains, One Horn and his women at last struck the River-of-Many-Chiefs-Gathering, and, following it up, came in sight of the big prairies at the foot of the lower one of these Inside Lakes. It was then dusk, but not so dark but what they could see that there was a big camp of people at the edge of the timber bordering the lake shore. Said One Horn, ‘They must be the ones I seek, the Mountain Crows. As soon as they sleep, we will go on and put up our lodge near theirs.’
“Early the next morning an old man stepped out from his lodge, and saw a strange lodge standing by itself just outside the circle of the big camp. He looked at it a long time, and the growing light at last enabled him to see that there were two huge bears painted on its new white leather skin. He turned and hurried to the lodge of the head chief of the camp, aroused him, and cried: ‘Here is a mystery; something to be looked into: just outside the circle of our camp a strange lodge is standing. It belongs not to us Mountain Crows, nor to our brothers, the River Crows. I know that, for it has painted upon it two big bears, and neither of our tribes has that medicine.’
“The chief hurried to get up and dress, and so did others, and they soon left their lodges and approached the strange lodge. There was a fire within it. Voices were heard in low-toned conversation. Close around a few horses were picketed, and farther out grazed a large band of them, mostly grays and blacks. It was evident that the owner of the lodge was a chief, a bear medicine man, a very rich man. The Crow chief thrust aside the door curtain of the lodge, and entered, the others following. A fine-appearing man at the back of it gave them the sign for welcome, and motioned them where to sit. He lifted a big filled pipe and lighted it, and passed it. The Crow chief smoked first, and then one by one those with him.
“Having passed on the pipe, the Crow chief signed to the stranger: ‘You are a Blackfoot?’
“‘Yes, I am a Blackfoot,’ One Horn answered. ‘You are wondering why I, an enemy, have come here and set up my lodge beside you. You shall know! I have come to try to make peace between your people and my people. I am tired of all this war, and its wasting of men’s lives, and making women and children mourn.’
“‘You say well. Your talk deserves attention. Peace between us would be good for us both. I will talk to my people about it,’ said the Crow chief.
“And just then One Horn’s women set before him and the other Crows dishes of rich berry pemmican, the best of dried meat and back fat, and they ate with the outside chief. Then they smoked again and went home, the Crow chief saying that he would soon give a call for a council, and would send for the Blackfoot to join in it.
“It was not until near sunset, however, that a youth came to invite One Horn to the Crow chief’s lodge. He found assembled there all the head men of the tribe, and the chief told him that, after long talk, they had decided that they, too, were tired of war, and would be glad to make peace with the Blackfeet.
“‘But be not in a hurry to return home,’ the Crow chief concluded. ‘Make us a long visit, and during it we will decide together where and when our two tribes shall meet to make this lasting peace treaty.’
“Answered One Horn: ‘I shall be glad to camp here with you for the rest of this moon.’ And all those present signed to him: ‘Yes. Remain here with us for a time.’
“One Horn and the Crow chief became friends. They hunted together, visited often in each other’s lodge, and together were invited to other lodges to feast and smoke, and join in the warriors’ tales of raids and battles and adventures along far trails.
“The River Crows were at this time encamped just over the ridge from the Inside Lakes, on Little River, and some of them came frequently to visit their Mountain brothers at the foot of the lakes. Among others came a man who was always counting his coups. In a gathering of the warriors he would wait until all had told what they had done in war against their enemies, and then he would count one coup, only one, that was far greater than any of theirs.
“On a day when One Horn was visiting in the Crow chief’s lodge, this man was one of the guests. The talk was of war, and after many there had told what they had done, he said that, with a friend, he was approaching the Blackfeet camp, and they were discovered and surrounded by all the warriors of the tribe. His friend soon fell, as full of arrows as a porcupine is full of quills, but that he, charging this way, that way, shooting arrows fast and killing many Blackfeet, made them give way before him and he escaped from them, although wounded in the back. Later on, when safe from pursuit, he had drawn out the arrow, and still had it, proof enough of the truth of his tale.
“This man then turned to One Horn, and said, by signs, of course, ‘We have all of us here told about our fights, and now it is your turn: tell of your brave deeds.’
“‘I have nothing to say that will interest you; mine have been just the common experiences of those who go on raids. No, I have nothing to say,’ he answered.
“‘But you must tell us one great thing that you have done,’ the River Crow insisted.
“And again One Horn answered: ‘What I have done would not interest you. I have nothing to say.’
“The man then turned to the Mountain Crow chief and said: ‘This is a poor kind of a friend for you to have! He has done nothing; he is no chief, he is a woman!’
“‘I do not know for sure, but I think that he is a chief, that he has a big war record,’ the host answered him.
“And then the guests went their several ways, the River Crow laughing shrilly, contemptuously, as he left the lodge.
“It was not long after this that the River Crow came over again from Little River, and again was one of a party of guests in the lodge of the chief of the Mountain Crows. Once more the talk was of war, and when it came this man’s turn to talk, he drew an arrow from his quiver, laid it on the ground in front of him, and said: ‘There! No one here, nor in the camp of the Mountain Crows and the camp of the River Crows, has ever equaled what that stands for. That is the arrow that I drew from my back after my partner was killed, and I fought my way single-handed through the hundreds of Blackfeet warriors, killing many of them, and so frightening them that they dared not pursue me.’
“One Horn leaned over, looked at the arrow, and gave an exclamation of disgust: ‘That is my arrow,’ he signed. ‘I know this man now. At dawn, one morning, I discovered him and his partner asleep near our camp. I crept up to them and shouted, thinking that they were our horseherd watchers, and when they sprang up, I saw that they were enemies. I shot one of them dead. This man turned and ran, never even firing at me, and I shot an arrow into his back, but he kept on going and escaped from me in the brush! Yes. That is the very arrow I shot into him!’
“‘It is a lie! A big lie!’ the River Crow said, and signed.
“For answer to that, One Horn went to the door of the lodge and shouted to his women to bring over his quiver of arrows. It was soon handed in to him, and he said: ‘I have here two kinds of arrows: hunting arrows and war arrows. Here are the war arrows.’ And he laid them beside the arrow in front of the boaster. All there saw at once that they were exactly like it in every way, had the same private mark just back of the point. And suddenly, with jeers and cries of ‘Liar!’ ‘Coward!’ they took handfuls of ashes and earth from the fireplace and threw them in the River Crow’s face and on his head, and he ran for the door and was gone, leaving the arrow behind. One Horn picked it up and put it in his quiver, and said: ‘That no doubt ends his lying bragging!’
“Some days after this exposure of his lying, the River Crow, watching his chance, entered the lodge of the Mountain Crow chief and said to him: ‘That Blackfoot has shamed me. I was a chief, but now all people laugh at me. I want revenge. Let me kill that friend of yours and I will give you three of my best horses!’
“‘What you ask is impossible!’ the chief replied. ‘He is my friend! We have smoked together, have eaten together. I cannot allow you to kill him. And for your lying you deserve what you got!’
“The River Crow sneaked away, but on the next evening, when none but the chief and his women were at home, he came again. And this time he said: ‘Let me do what I want to do; you know what that is; and I will give you five of my best horses and my beautiful young daughter.’
“And this time the chief did not give him a short answer. He thought over the offer for a long time. He knew that it would be a terrible thing to betray his Blackfoot friend, but the temptation was great. His women were getting old. He wanted that beautiful girl. And at last he gave way to the temptation: ‘It shall be as you wish,’ he told the man. ‘All is arranged for to-morrow; we go with the hunters on a big buffalo hunt, and there will be no chance for you to do what you want to do. Come the day after to-morrow and I will help you—if you need my help—to kill the Blackfoot.’
“Very early the next morning the hunters started out after buffalo, One Horn taking with him one of his women to help in the butchering and packing in of the meat. They were no sooner gone than one of the Crow chief’s women hurried to One Horn’s lodge and told his other woman all about the plan to kill him. She told it because she was jealous; she did not want her man to take another wife!
“So it was that, when One Horn came home that evening, this wife ran to him and embraced and kissed him as though she would never let him out of her arms. This strong showing of love was unusual with her, and he asked her the cause for it.
“‘Because to-morrow you are to die, and sister and I are to become slaves. See now what you have done by coming to try to make peace with these Crows!’ And she told him all about the plot to end his life.
“But One Horn just laughed: ‘Wipe away your tears and take courage,’ he told her. ‘These Crows will not kill me, a bear medicine man, and a chief. They cannot kill me. I will show you to-morrow something that will surprise you!’
“That night he kept his favorite war horse picketed close to his lodge, and the next morning he carefully dressed himself in his beautiful war clothes, painted himself and his horse, took his bow and arrows, his shield and spear, and rode into the center of the big camp, and called upon the Crow chief to come out. He did come out, also dressed for battle, and One Horn cried out to him, at the same time making signs, so that he would be sure to understand, ‘Your plot is discovered. So you and that River Crow are going to kill me. Where is he? Call him. I want to fight you both. I am a bear. I fight like a bear. Come! Hurry! Let us fight. Ha! I am going to fight my true friend, the chief of the Mountain Crows, he who smoked and ate with me, he who was going to join me in making a lasting peace between our two tribes. Come! Let us fight! Shall it be on horseback or afoot? I give you the choice.’
“The Crow chief gave him no answer. Some of the people, looking on, were beginning to show their anger and shame at his betrayal of a friend. He turned and went back into his lodge, and would not come out again.
“While this was going on, several men had hurried to the River Crow man, stopping in the far end of camp: ‘Your plan to kill the Blackfoot is discovered, and he is dressed and armed and mounted, waiting to fight you. He is like a raging grizzly, and his, you know, is the bear medicine. What are you going to do?’
“The man did not answer them. He mounted his horse, and, hidden from One Horn’s sight by the lodges, struck out for the River Crow camp on Little River, and fear was with him. He often looked back to see if he were being pursued by this dreadful bear medicine man who had once wounded him, and was now so anxious to meet him face to face.
“One Horn rode back to his lodge. ‘Take down the lodge, pack up everything. We will not stay another day with these treacherous Crows,’ he told them, and rounded up and caught what horses were needed for packing and riding.
“Just before they were ready to leave, the Crow chief sent one of his women to say to One Horn that he was sorry for what he had done, very sorry that he had ever listened to the River Crow, and wanted to make reparation. He wanted to give his Blackfoot friend ten head of horses.
“‘Tell him that I will not accept anything from him,’ One Horn answered the woman. And he and his outfit started for the north and were soon out of sight of the Crow camp.
“Some days afterward they arrived at the camp of their people on the Big River of the North, and had no sooner set up their lodge than One Horn called a council of the chiefs and told them where he had been and for what purpose.
“‘Although I accomplished nothing, I am glad I went,’ he told them. ‘I now know the Crows. They are liars all, and not to be trusted. I advise that we begin a steady war against them.’
“The other chiefs agreed to that. Messengers were sent to the brother tribes, the Bloods and the North Blackfeet, and to the Gros Ventres, friends of the Blackfeet, and the war was started. Little by little, summer after summer, they drove the Crows southward, killing many of them, and were not satisfied until they forced them to the country south of the Elk River,11 where they have ever since remained. So, because of their treachery, the Crows lost a great and rich country.”
Notes
11 Po-no-ka′-ĭs-i-sak-ta. Elk River; the Yellowstone River. Back