THE PASSING OF A PEOPLE.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 15099, 23 March 1911, Page 8

THE PASSING OF A PEOPLE.

THE TRAIL OF THE BLACKFEET.

Camp fires and the pipe of peace, whose smoke has gone up for countless ages, grow fewer and less aromatic with the' years. And, on reading "The Great North Trail," by Walter M'Clintock (Macmillan; 15s net), my heart is filled with a great sorrow that the race of Red Indians )6 departing to the setting sun of lost hopes, beyond an horizon which closes darkly upon them. Were they not to most of us symbols oi nursery romance? Do we not owe to them the boon of tobacco? —The Aristocrat.— But beyond that the Red Indian was the ■ aristocrat of America, whose ways now are darkened and his nobility clouded by the illusion of progress: , The once powerful confederation Of the Blackfeet of Siksikaua Indians

comprising the North Blackfeet, Bloods, and Piegans, ■ is of Algonquin origin. Although they speak the same language, have similar <'ustoms, and are closely inter-married, these three divisions are independent of each other, each hav-

ing its own Sundance, council, and head chief. When the dominant white race, hoth in Canada and the United States, restricted the Blackfeet from their nomadic life, -which had covered the

vast region stretching from the North,

Saskatchewan River in Alberta to the ' Yellowstone River in Montana, and from longitude 105deg west from Greenwich to the Rocky Mountains, their fixed settlements were made in the localities where their permanent camps were formerly located.

Ycare ago they lived further north, where, tho black, loamy soil coloured their "moccasins." Truly, these worshippers of the sun carried the- soul of the soil even into their tribal name. A hundred years ago they were a proud race of warriors, going far afield on horseback, faithful to the religion of their tribe, handsome as tawny gods, with the vigour of an unspoilt people. They were dealers in horses as well as warriors. The tales of the tomahawk no more depict their normal life than do our narratives of Jena, Austerlitz, or Waterloo. '—Tradition and the Tribe.—

But the great quality of the Blackfeet lay in their tribal condition, the acceptance of a wider ideal than the family, in a true communism of aristocrats. The author first came into contact with them through the great scout Siksikakoan,. who lough with the whites against ths Sioux in 1876, escaping, through the enemy's lines at the battle of Little Big Horn, when tho red rebels annihilated the 7th U.S. Cavalry Battalion. After the war the Indian chief returned to his tribe, who were living upon the reservation of tho Blackfeet. Mr M'Clintock was happy in his Indian friendships, • and, through th* scout, not only lived in the Blackfeet camp, but was adopted as ti son by Jiad Wolf, an old chief oft wonderful sanity, whose picturesque name was quite alien to his delightful nature:

At first I was at a loss to know •how to secure suitable board and lodging in the Blackfoot camp. ■ Their diet of dried meat and meat stews was to me neither appetising nor sufficiently nourishing. The difficult problem was, however, solved for me in a very satisfactory way by my friend Big Eyes. I had gained the goodwill of himself and wife through the interest I had taken in their children. To show their appreciation, his wife, Ips-e-mk-ki-, who was skilled in the making of lodges, presented me with an Indian tipi, decorated with pictographs of interesting events in her husband's life. With the acquisition of a tipi I had my own home in the camp, but it was nec&sary to do my own cooking and to care for my own horses and outfit, for the Blackfeet have no servants, and I had not taken a wife.

But this trouble was overcome, and he was free to live a healthy life among a people in close kinship with elemental things. There is a reference of true beauty and pathos to one warrior who, during a pause in the dancing ceremonial of his people, prayed to the Sun-god for tho life of his sick child.

—Religion.—

I have been told by a clergyman who worked among them that there was no. thing evil or cruel in their religion. Befoie they became contaminated by civilisation, by cheap alcohol, and the vices from which as savages they were free, no nobler people ever lived. Their fault was that they never built, x'hose who live in wigwams cannot hope to maintain themselves against builders, men who set up buttresses against- the structure of- Time. Though the Red Indian probably lived under similar conditions 'ram the Stone Ago till tho middle of last century, gunpowder and cheap whisky have well-nigh unmade him. Even Mr ■ Roosevelt's humane policy, while saving him from degradation, and making him a peasant proprietor, will end in absorption. For the race feeling, so strong against the negro, does not resent marriage with the Red Indians. So far, their lack of culture has prevented intermarriage with the better classes of whites, whose moral equals they wore; while their simplicity has made them the victims of the immoral, who havo degraded them. Their songs have a rare nobility. Take this example of a religious chant :

Great Sun god! Continue to give us your light that the leaves and grass may grow so that our cattle will increase and our children mav live to be old.

Our Mother! (the Moon), give us sleep that we may. rise again like our father (tho Sun). May our • lives be strong and may our hearts feel towards our white brothers, as we <u'<j all your chil-

dren. These, no doubt, have been their ideas from the timo of the Stone Age, when, in the dawn of time, mankind was nearest to the sources of life, and of tho first gleams of wonder. —Folk tales.—

As with all people who live close to Nature, legends have great power among them. They vary from simple ghost stories to tho tale of Poia. The simplicity of flome of these tales gives a reality to them, as one may see: Old Person was recently riding down tho river to Little Plume's. Wlien be was passing the cottonwood trees, whero tho dead bodies lie in the branches, his horse suddenly reared and plunged, as if frightened by an apparition. Then

Old Person heaid a voice speaking from the trees, raying, "Oid Person! what has delayed your coming to'the spirit world so long? I have been waiting for you a very long time." He was so badly frightened he rode away at a

gallop. Next day Ivo was taken sick, and in a few days died. I also heard of another case. When Big Wolf Medicine and Buffalo Hide wero recently ramped on the Two Medicine with their wives, a ghost harassed them all night, so that they could not sleep. They lirst •heard something approaching their lodge from the north-west, where there was a grcve of cottonwoods, It

awakened the dogs that were sleeping outside. They gave tho ghost-bark, and were badly frightened, snuffing the air and frowling fiercely. The ghost moved around the lodge to the door, which it threw open. Then it went to the northeast side and hooted like an owl. Next morning they discovered a death lodge in the cottonwood grove, and recognised the body of a young man that had been murdered by his jealous brother. It is probably because he was 1 murdered 1 that ho annoys the living. —The Star Legend.—

The tale of Poia is of a young man who came down to earth from his heavenly habitation, who lived in poverty among l!he Blackfeet, married an Indian maiden, and took her to a far land, where dwelt his father, the Sun, and his mother, the Moon. But So-atrSa-ki, now the wife of the Morning Star, and the mother of Star-boy. looked down upon the camp of her people, and the Sun-god bade her be-, gone. So they wrappwl Star-boy and his mother in a cloak and sent them down a strand of web back to earth again. The boy grew up, and taught the bribe the Sun-dance, which signifies their unity with god, as revealed to thorn in Poia, the mediator. And the wisp, old chiefs are sorry that the young Indian folk of today prefer tho stupid dancing of civilised folk to the dream-dances woven of the star-rays which were Poia. —The Sorrow of the Red Man.—

Stock-stchi spoke to the author of this book regarding the attempts' to take away their religion: "We fast and pray that we may be able to live good lives and to act more kindly toward each other. If they deprive us of our religion, we have nothing left. We do not understand the White Man's religion." And the White Man would understand his own better if he had more of the simple faith of his red brother. The author loved tho people, and when he left them an old chief gave him his "everyday" pipe, made of stone, probably the dearest.of his possessions. Their lives were those of children full of the impulses and affection of children. They were, too, a race of subconscious poets, their leaders the best bards and warriors. This is the Bed Man's desire, in the words of Mad Wolf: Mother Earth, have pity on us, and give us food to eat! Father, the Sun, bless all our ohil-

dron, and may out paths be straight! Can civilisation give them a better heritage.—Reginald R. Buckley.