Chapter II: Part 2

In a way, the band may be considered the social and political unit. There is, in a general sense, a band chief, but we have failed to find good grounds for assuming that he has any formal right to a title or an office. He is one of an indefinite number of men designated as head men. These head men may be considered as the social aristocracy, holding their place in society in the same indefinite and uncertain manner as the social leaders of our own communities. Thus, we hear that no Blackfoot can aspire to be looked upon as a head man unless he is able to entertain well, often invite others to his board, and make a practice of relieving the wants of his less fortunate band members. Such practices are sure to strain the aspirant’s resources and many sink under it; but he who can meet all such demands soon acquires a place in the social life of the band that is often proof against the ill fortunes of later years. This phase of their social life is very much alive, having survived not only the changes in economic conditions brought about by the reservation system but the direct opposition of its officers. This story is oft repeated: a young man takes to stock raising, accumulates cattle and horses, gradually taking into nominal employ all his less able relatives who thus come to depend upon him. Presently, he wakes up to the situation and entertains an ambition to become the leading head man of his band, or even of all bands. Then begins a campaign. He makes feasts, gives presents, buys medicines, and supports ceremonies; thus making his home the center of social and ceremonial activities, the leadership of which he assumes. His rivals are stirred to activity also and the contest goes on apace. From observation, we believe that bankruptcy is the usual result; but, unless this comes at the very beginning of the effort, the aspirant acquires enough prestige to give him some claim to being a head man for the rest of his days even though he becomes a hanger-on at the door of a younger aspirant.

Thus, the head men are those who are or have been social leaders. Naturally, individual worth counts in such contests and he who is born to lead will both in matters great and small. In former times, these rivalries often led to assassination and other dark deeds.

Before the reservation system came in, deeds of the warpath were also essential to the production of a head man, for in them was the place to demonstrate the power to lead. Great deeds in social and ceremonial life would alone elevate one to the status of a head man, though as a rule the warpath was the line of least resistance.

These head men of uncertain tenure come to regard one or two of their number as leaders, or chiefs. Such chiefs rarely venture to act without the advice of some head men, as to stand alone would be next to fatal. In tribal assemblies, the head men of the bands usually look to one of these as spokesman, and speak of him as their chief.

While the tenure and identity of a head man is thus somewhat vague, his functions are rather definite. He is the guardian and defender of the social order in its broadest sense. Of this, he is fully conscious; as, for example, no man of importance will accept an invitation to visit for a time in a distant band or tribe without calling a consultation. Should some head men of his band indicate disapproval, the invitations will be declined. The theory is that the welfare of his band is endangered by his absence. Above all, the head men are expected to preserve the peace. Should a dispute arise in which members of their band are concerned, one or more of them are expected to step in as arbitrators or even as police officials if the occasion demand. When it is suspicioned that a man contemplates a crime or the taking of personal vengeance some head men go to his tipi and talk with him, endeavoring to calm him, giving much kind advice as to the proper course for the good of all concerned. If he has been wronged, they often plead for mercy toward his enemy. Again, the head men may be appealed to for redress against a fellow member of the band. In the adjustment of such cases the head men proceed by tact, persuasion, and extreme deliberation. They restrain the young men, as much as possible, after the same method. In all such functions, they are expected to succeed without resort to violence.

For mild persistent misconduct, a method of formal ridicule is sometimes practised. When the offender has failed to take hints and suggestions, the head men may take formal notice and decide to resort to discipline. Some evening when all are in their tipis, a head man will call out to a neighbor asking if he has observed the conduct of Mr. A. This starts a general conversation between the many tipis, in which all the grotesque and hideous features of Mr. A’s acts are held up to general ridicule amid shrieks of laughter, the grilling continuing until far into the night. The mortification of the victim is extreme and usually drives him into temporary exile or, as formerly, upon the warpath to do desperate deeds.

When there is trouble between members of different bands, the head men of each endeavor to bring about a settlement. Thus, if one of the contending party is killed, the band of the deceased sends notice to the murderer’s band that a payment must be made. In the meantime, the murderer may have called upon a head man of his own band to explain the deed. The head men then discuss the matter and advise that horses and other property be sent over to the injured band at once. A crier goes about with the order and members of the band contribute.[27] This offer may be refused by the injured band and a demand made for the culprit’s life. No matter how revolting the offence, the band is reluctant to give up the accused without a fight. If no presents are sent in a reasonable time, the injured band assembles in force and marches out. A head man meets them for a conference, but a fight is likely. After a conflict of this kind, the band killing the greatest number moves to a distant part of the country and when the camp circle is formed keeps in sight but far out to one side. This separation may continue for a year or more. In all such disputes between bands, the head men of other bands may step in to preserve the peace; but, according to report, they seldom accomplish anything.

Taking the Piegan, Blood, and Blackfoot as tribes, we may say that there was a head chief for each. His office was more definite than that of a band chief, though he was not formally elected. All the head men of the various tribes came by degrees to unanimity as to who would succeed the living chief, though the matter was rarely discussed in formal council. The main function of the tribal chief was to call councils, he having some discretion as to who should be invited. Some writers claim the Blackfoot appointed two chiefs, one for peace and one for war; but we could find no evidence for this, except that some band chiefs came to have special reputations for ability as war leaders and were likely to be called upon in time of need. They were not, however, regarded as head chiefs. While the office of head chief was not hereditary, there was a natural desire among the chief’s band to retain the office; thus it is said that among the Piegan most of them have been members of the Fat-roasters.

Everything of importance was settled in council. While each band was represented there was no fixed membership; yet the head chief usually invited those in excess of one member for each band. There seems to have been no formal legislation and no provisions for voting. In former times, the council was rarely convened except in summer. At the end of the fall hunt, the bands separated for the winter to assemble again in the spring at some appointed place. Even in summer they would often camp in two or three bodies, each one under the leadership of some able-bodied band chief, coming together for the sun dance at which time only the whole tribal government was in existence.

The organized men’s societies among the Blackfoot were, when in large camps, subject to the orders of the head chief or executive of the council and on such occasions seem to have exercised the functions of the head men of the respective bands. This subject will be taken up under another head, but it is a matter of some interest to note how, when such camps were formed, the head men of the bands were merged into a council for the whole and the men’s societies became their executive and police agents under the direction of the head chief. Thus, when there was danger, certain societies were detailed to guard duty, especially at night. As the chief aim of an organized summer camp was to hunt buffalo and the success of a general hunt depended upon successful co-operation, the discipline was devised to that end. The head chief gave out orders for making and breaking camp, and rules and punishments were announced. Thus, a man found running buffalo or riding about outside without orders might have his clothes torn off, be deprived of his arms, his horse’s ears and tail cropped. Should he resist, he might be quirted and his hair cropped. His tipi and personal property might be destroyed. However, these were extreme punishments, it being regarded as best to get along by persuading the would-be wrong-doer to desist. The punishment inflicted by the members of societies were not personally resented, as they were acting entirely within their rights. As to whether the men’s societies were police by virtue of their own membership, or whether they were individually called out to form an independent body is not certain, but will be discussed elsewhere.

A long time ago Nathaniel J. Wyeth[28] set down some interesting theories concerning the economic reasons for the unorganized state of the Shoshone in contrast to the buffalo-hunting horsemen of the Plains. He doubtless sensed a truth in so far as the camp organization of the Plains is considered as a type of government having for its chief function the supervision and conservation of their immediate resources. Perhaps of all cultural phases in this area, the one most often detailed in the older literature is the organization and control of the camp when pursuing buffalo. So far as we have read, the accounts for the different tribes are strikingly identical and agree with the data from the Blackfoot. In most every case, the horse, the tipi, the camp circle, and the soldier-band police were present, even though the participants, when at home lived in houses and cultivated corn. That the camp circle, or band circle, is a special type of tribal political organization in this area seems obvious. It would be suggestive to know just how some of the tribes having clan organizations adjusted themselves to this scheme when using the circle.[29]

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[27] One informant commented on this paragraph as follows: When the payment is made it is through the head men of the bands concerned. The head man of the band to which the wronged party belongs is given the offerings and he passes on them. When he judges them ample, he takes them to the wronged party and tells him to drop the case now since he has received full damages.

[28] Schoolcraft, 205-228.

[29] We have heard that the Winnebago used a provisional band scheme for the circle, entirely independent of their regular social organization and in conscious imitation of the Dakota. If this proves correct, it will throw some light on the whole problem of bands and camp circles.

PROPERTY RIGHTS.

When a man dies his property is raided by the relatives. The older sons usually take the bulk but must make some concessions to all concerned. If the children are young, the father’s relatives take the property. In any event, nothing goes to the widow. She may, however, retain her own personal property to the extent of that brought with her at marriage. She may claim, though not always with success, the offspring of her own horses. These are horses given her by her relatives and friends. Though not clearly thought out, the feeling seems to be that as the widow returns to her band she is entitled to take only such property as she brought with her at marriage.

At the death of a wife, her personal property is regarded as due her relatives, and may go to her daughters, if grown, otherwise back to her band. Theoretically, at least, the woman owned the tipi, the travois, the horse she rode, her domestic implements and clothing. Even to-day, when the white conception of property tends to dominate, a man seldom speaks when his wife bargains away her own hand-work, bedding, and house furnishings.

Formerly, disputes concerning property were taken to the head men for adjustment: now the settlements of estates go to the authorized Indian court. Property was bequeathed by a verbal will. A man would state before witnesses and his relatives what horses and property were to go to the wife, to the children, etc. At present, written wills are sometimes executed to protect the family. Under the old régime, the relatives sometimes disregarded the wishes of the deceased and left nothing for the widow and children; but, if a woman of good character with many relatives, she was seldom imposed upon.

In the division of meat from a co-operative hunt, the best cuts went to the chief, the medicine men, and the owners of medicine pipes. This is somewhat at variance with the usual democratic way of doing things and bears a striking resemblance to a similar custom among the Western Cree. In an individual hunt anyone approaching a man engaged in butchering was given meat, sometimes even the last piece. However, he was certain of being invited later to eat.

DIVISION OF LABOR.

The women dress the skins, make their own clothes and most of those used by men. They make most of their own utensils: the tipi, the travois, the riding-gear, prepare and cook the food, gather the vegetables and berries, and carry the wood and water. As the greater part of the baggage, when travelling, is their property, they bear the burden of its transportation. It is a disgrace both to himself and his women, for a man to carry wood or water, to put up a tipi, to use a travois, to cook food when at home and above all to own food or provisions.[30] While the men usually did the butchering, the meat on arriving at the tipi became the property of the women. A young man may cook food but in seclusion. There is a pretty tale of a young fellow surprised by his sweetheart while cooking meat. He threw the hot meat into the bed and lay upon it. The girl embraced him and fondled him while the meat burned deeply into his body; but he did not wince.

In the tipi, a man seldom rises to get a drink of water but calls on the women to hand it to him. The men often make their own ornaments and sometimes their leggings and coats. The painted designs upon men’s robes and upon tipis are made by men; those upon parfleche and bags are by women.

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[30] An informant states that this applies especially to married men: that in some cases a young single man is called upon to get water after dark, or at any time when it is very cold, a woman may call upon a young man to get wood.

BIRTH CUSTOMS.

As the period of pregnancy nears its end the women discard their bracelets and most of their metal ornaments. They dress in old clothes and affect carelessness of person. Should a person look fixedly at one, she will say, “Don’t. My child will look like you; you are ugly,” etc. As the hour approaches, they retire to an isolated tipi where they are attended by other women, men not being admitted. A medicine woman may be called, who usually administers decoctions for internal use, supposed to facilitate delivery. For bearing down, the patient holds to a pole of the tipi, an attendant grasping her around the waist. When delivered she is laced up with a piece of skin or rawhide as a support. She is then required to walk or creep about in the tipi for a while instead of resting quietly, in the belief that recovery will be hastened thereby. The after-birth is thrown away and not placed in a tree as among the Dakota.

Men should not approach the birthplace for a period as their medicine and war powers would be weakened thereby. The father may enter but at some risk. It is bad luck for men to step upon the clothing of the newly born or touch those of the mother; lameness and other disorders of the feet and limbs will surely follow.

Birth marks are regarded as evidences of re-birth. Boys so marked are believed to be returned warriors bearing honorable scars. Twins are neither regarded with suspicion nor especially favored. What data we have seem to be against infanticide even in the case of great deformities. Tales emphasizing the enormity of the crime are told of mothers to whom suspicion attributed the death of such unfortunates. The still-born, it is believed, will be born again.

MENSTRUAL CUSTOMS.

There is no special taboo upon a menstruating woman requiring her to live apart but she is not supposed to come near the sick. The belief is that in such a case something would strike the patient “like a bullet and make him worse.” Further, at this time, women are supposed to keep away from places where medicines are at work. These restrictions also apply to immediate associations with men and to women lax in virtue.

CARE AND TRAINING OF CHILDREN.

Large families seem not to have been unusual though I have never seen many children with one woman. Some old men now living claim to be fathers of more than twenty children each, though not by a single mother.[31] The young children, at least, receive considerable attention and some discipline. They are sometimes punished by a dash of cold water or a forced plunge. In former times, some old men were charged with responsibility for each boy’s morning bath in the stream regardless of temperature; hence, children were admonished that these men would get them. Striking a child is not regarded as proper. The favorite boggie is the coyote, or the wolf. Women will say, “Now, there is a coyote around: he will get you.” Sometimes they say, “Come on wolf and bite this baby.” Such words often compose lullabies, a favorite one being, “Come, old woman, with your meat pounder smash this baby’s head.” After the use of intoxicants became general, children were threatened with a drunken man.

From the first, children are taught to respect all the taboos of the medicine bundles owned by the family and those of their relations and guests. Girls are taught to be kind and helpful, to be always willing to lend a hand, to be virtuous and later, to respect their marriage vows. Special stress is laid upon virtue as a “fast” girl is a disgrace to all her relatives. All children are expected to retire early and rise early. They must respect the words and acts of the aged and not talk back to elderly people. They are taught to take “joking” gracefully and without show of temper. All “tongue-lashing” is to be taken quietly, without retort. Should a child be struck by his equal, to retaliate in kind is proper. All requests for service or errands made by elders, are to be rendered at once and in silence. The ideal is the child that starts to perform the service before it is asked; or, if asked, before the last word of the speaker is uttered. Talkativeness is almost a crime in the presence of elders. The ideal is he who sits quietly while the adults talk. If he is teased, he may smile but not speak. Above all, when grown up, he should be self-controlled as well as firm and brave.

Boys were taught to care for the horses and to herd them by day: girls to carry wood and water and to assist with other children and household duties. Before marriage, girls must be proficient in the dressing of skins, the making of garments, and the preparation of food. About the time of puberty, boys are expected to go to war. Singly or in pairs they may get permission to accompany a war party, provided they have shown efficiency in hunting. At such times, they receive new names, as previously stated. While the boy is expected to go to war, his family not only uses persuasion to keep him at home, but often forbids his going. In any event, he gets permission or goes secretly. It is said, that in this way the virtue of both parents and sons is shown.

We failed to find definite evidences of puberty ceremonies aside from the boy’s change of name. Certain other small ceremonies may be noted. Often when a child takes its first step or speaks its first word, the parents are adroitly reminded that it is their duty to do something. Then they give out presents or make a feast to which all the relatives contribute. Ear-piercing is also somewhat of a ceremony and may be accompanied by a display of wealth, except when performed at the sun dance. An old woman is called for this service and, in imitation of a warrior counting coup, calls out just before piercing an ear, “I have made a tipi, worked a robe, etc., with these hands.”

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[31] “These Indians often have many children, who generally run and play about quite naked, and swim in the river like ducks. The boys go naked till they are thirteen or fourteen years old, but the girls have a leather dress at an early age.” Maximilian, Vol. 23, 110.

DEATH AND MOURNING.

When one is taken ill the family sends for a medicine man, promising him a horse. If the family is of some importance they may call in a number of such men, to each of whom a horse is promised. They sit around the tipi and work their magic powers in turn while their women assist with the songs. Food and other comforts must be provided for them and their enthusiasm stimulated by gifts of additional horses. A long acute illness will deprive the family of its accumulated property. Often a man will tell you that he is very poor now since he or some of his relatives have been ill for a time. Medicine men usually permit the family to keep the gift horses until needed and often transfer, or sell, their claims to a third party. Should the patient die, they leave at once, often taking with them all the loose property of the family.

If a person dies in a house it is abandoned, or afterwards torn down and erected elsewhere, as the Blackfoot believe the ghost of the deceased haunts the spot. Should a young child die, the house will be abandoned for a time only. In former times, the tipi was abandoned or used as a burial-tipi.

When all hope for the patient is abandoned, he is painted and dressed in his best costume and, at present, often taken out of the house to a tipi so that it may not be necessary to tear down the building. After death the body is wrapped in a blanket, formerly in a robe, and buried within a few hours.[32]

In recent years, the Indians have been forced to use coffins and to practise interment. These are placed upon high hills and barely covered with earth and stones. No effort is made to mark the spot and fear keeps all the mourners far from the place. Indeed, it is difficult to persuade any one to go near a known burial site. Some distinguished chiefs rest in houses built on lonely hills. In former times, tree burial was common but now rare, only one example having come under our observation. A person of some importance was placed in a tipi on some high place. The edges of the tipi cover were often weighted down with stones, circles of which are often met with on elevated positions. Persons usually make requests of their families that certain personal belongings are to be buried with them. Sometimes the request is for a horse; in this event, one will be killed at the burial place. It was quite usual for the tail and mane of a man’s favorite horse to be cut at his death.

At death, or its announcement, there is great wailing among the women, who gash their legs and often their arms. Their hair is cut short, a practice often followed by the men. Such hair should be thrown away and not handled or used for any practical purpose. Women may wear a single bead over one ankle for a time. In former times, a man would take to the warpath and go along indifferently, neither seeking enemies nor avoiding them if encountered. At present, they go on a long visit to some distant relative. If a man owning an important medicine bundle loses a dear relative he may be moved to cast it into the fire or otherwise desecrate it because of its failure to prevent death; hence, a person once owning such a bundle takes it away at once. After a time, medicine men approach the mourner with suggestions that it is well to take up the care of his bundle now. When he consents, a sweat house is made and after the ceremony, the mourner is painted and newly dressed. The medicine bundle is then brought into his tipi and he resumes his former functions. While the preceding is the normal order of events, men have been known to destroy medicine bundles in the face of great opposition.

During the mourning period—an indefinite time—the man may dress in the meanest possible clothes, neglect his hair and person, and live in a small dilapidated tipi. However, there seems to be less formality in this than among the Dakota, and the spectacular abandonment of the mourning state often observed among the Teton is wanting.

In this connection, may be mentioned a practice not unlike “running a-mok,” though apparently without mania. A man realizing that he is the victim of an incurable disease may with more or less deliberation arm himself and attempt the life of all persons he may meet. He will announce that as he must die, he expects to take as many with him as possible. The records of the reservations will show a number of killings brought about in this way. Thus, a man took his wife out to a small hill, shot her and took his stand against his pursuers, whom he held at bay to his last cartridge with which he, though badly wounded, took his own life. An attempt of this kind came under the observation of the writer while camping with a Blood band. A young man suffering from consumption, slightly intoxicated and threatened with arrest for disorderly conduct, announced to his family one night that he expected to kill all of them and as many of the camp as possible. Fortunately, while he attacked his wife with a knife, his rifle was spirited away and the camp aroused; yet, as he kept out of reach, it was necessary to hold him off with guns until dawn, when he fled in terror of capture alive. Many officials attribute such outbreaks entirely to intoxication, but the evidence we have gathered indicates that there is a conventional side to the practice and a strong probability that it is a variant, and in some respects a survival, of taking to the warpath. Officials and many Indians, respect the convention to such an extent that every effort is made to prevent persons fatally afflicted becoming aware of the fact until near the hour of death. The writer found a similar practice among the Teton, though it seemed that one life is regarded as sufficient, the doomed man usually taking his own life after a short interval.

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[32] See Maximilian, Vol. 23, 121.

TALES OF ADVENTURE.

Many Blackfoot men now but a half-century old took part in raids and fights, or went on the warpath, so that now, as of old, deeds of war are important social assets. In former times, only men of great deeds were called upon to perform certain public and ceremonial functions, a custom still in force but naturally less binding. While there are other social ideals, such as owning important medicines, becoming a head man and possessing wealth, that of being a successful warrior can scarcely be over-estimated. The tale of adventure as told by the chief actor is the delight of the fireside and entrances old and young alike when delivered by a skilful narrator. Other tales, those of tradition and hearsay, are seldom offered as it is the custom for one to narrate his own experiences, a rather high ideal of truthfulness being entertained. Of course, there are historical traditions, but they are usually given in brief without much life. Adventures with animals and of the hunt have a place, but are of far less social significance. The following is offered as a type of war narrative and also because it gives a very clear picture of just how an expedition for plunder was conducted. It was narrated by Strangle Wolf, a very old man, and recorded by Mr. Duvall.

It was in the fall of the year. I was living with Lazy Boy, for
he was an uncle of mine. Lazy Boy was one of the chiefs of the
Blackfoot Indians. In the evening, Lazy Boy said to me,
“Strangle Wolf, we will go out for some Assiniboine horses.”
This meant, of course, to steal them. “I have plenty of extra
pairs of moccasins. We shall need them, for we are going to
travel on foot.”

Somehow, Lazy Boy’s father-in-law, Heavy Shield, heard of this,
came over that night, and said to him, “Lazy Boy, you must not
go this time. You can come over in the morning and take my best
horses; I don’t want you to go. I have had bad dreams.”

Then the old man returned to his lodge. Lazy Boy only laughed
and said to his wife: “Go tell your father that I won’t listen
to him this time. I must go and get some horses to give him, for
the Indians never give him any even when they have many. Another
thing is that I have my party ready and will start in the
morning.”

In the morning, we all started. There were thirty of us in the
party. Lazy Boy was the leader. He was noted as a fast walker,
and asked me to take the lead with him. Lazy Boy fell to telling
me about things he said I ought to learn. He said, “Whenever you
are out with a war party, as we are now, and all are on foot,
you should keep close to the leader, for if you hang back at the
tail end you will always be in a trot to keep up with the
others; but if you are in the lead you can keep the gait and not
become tired so soon.” Another thing he said to me was, “When we
get to the Assiniboine camps, you must try to get the horses
tied close to the lodges for they are the best horses. The
Assiniboine always keep up their best horses at night while they
drive the others out to the hills.”

We went down the Missouri River. The game was plentiful. Buffalo
and elk we saw on our way, so we did not go hungry. Everyone had
a little pack of meat on his back and his extra pairs of
moccasins. When the sun went down we camped for the night. We
made three lodges with sticks and bark. After we had cooked and
eaten some meat, the chief said we must sing the wolf songs.
These songs are supposed to give us good luck, on a trip, i. e.,
if we truthfully tell what our sweethearts said when we left
them. Each man is supposed to sing a song in which are a few
words his sweetheart said to him.

After we got through singing, all went to sleep. In the morning,
we all started out again. When the sun was high, we saw
something a long way off resembling a person. The Chief said,
“It must be an Assiniboine. We must go after him and kill him.”
So we all ran toward him, and as we approached he seemed to be
making signs to us. When we got up to it, we found out that it
was a black stump with its black branches sticking out like
arms. As we all went on, I heard some of the men say that it was
a bad sign.

We travelled many days and nights, until we came to a lot of
timber along the river. It was snowing and very cold. The Chief
always kept two men ahead to look over the tops of the high
hills, so that we would not run into some of the Assiniboine
that might be waiting for us. At this place we all stopped and
the chief called out to two men, “You go across the river to see
if you can find out just where the Assiniboine camps are. We
must be close to them now. We will wait for you here.” The two
men took off their clothes, tied their leggings and shirts
around their heads so as to be able to put them on dry when they
got across. The river was wide and deep and the two men swam
across. We all waited. When the sun was getting down close to
the mountains, Chief Lazy Boy said to one of the men, “Why can
we not cross and wait for them there? It is too cold for the two
men to swim back again.”

So we all got a few poles, tied them together and put a rawhide
on top of them. Then we put our clothes and guns on top of that.
Then four men tied ropes to the raft and taking the ends of the
ropes in their mouths swam across. When we all got across the
chief said, “Although we are very cold we must not make a fire,
for we are close to the camps. They would see the smoke.”

The sun had just gone down when the two scouts came back, saying
to the chief, “We saw two men leading their horses down to the
river. Their horses were loaded with meat, so the camps cannot
be far off.” We waited here a long time until it stopped
snowing. The moon was shining brightly. A little later on we
heard dogs barking. It was nearly morning when the Chief said,
“Come, let us go, it is nearly daylight.” All went on until the
Chief stopped, when we all stopped beside him. He took a stick
and, beating time with it on the barrel of his gun, sang his war
song, looking up at the moon. Once he used the following words:
“Elk woman, try your best.” When the Chief had finished, the
others in turn sang their war songs. Then we all started again.
After we got close to the camps the Chief told me to go back and
tell two of the men to come with him, but for me to stay back
with the others. He said, “We shall go through the camp to find
out where the best horses are. Then we shall come back to inform
you, and then we can all go together.” I told the two men and
they went off with him, while the rest of us stayed in the
brush. About daybreak, we heard a sound as if someone were
riding along. Some of the men said it was a loose horse. One of
the men went out to look for signs of our party. At the time the
chief left us, four men from our party followed him. Thus there
were seven. It is believed to be unlucky when there are only
seven in a war party. Any way, it proved to be at this time. It
was just daylight when we heard three shots, and at the same
time the men who went out came back to us saying, “You said that
was a loose horse we heard, here is what its rider lost.” He
carried a gun-sack, ramrod, and a saddle blanket. We all got up
and ran up the river as fast as we could. We had not gone far
when we heard more shooting, war whoops, and galloping horses.
We kept on until we got to a place where there was thick timber.
We stayed there all day. We heard no more noise for we were now
too far away. When night came we all crossed the river and
travelled part of the night until we came to one of our old
camping places. Our brush lodges were still there. We had
planned to meet there after we got our horses. We saw a light in
one of them and when we went in we saw one of the men who was
with our Chief. He got up, shook hands with us all, and then
began to tell about it. He said, “When we all got near the
camps, we met an Assiniboine who ran back into the camp. Then we
started back to where we had left you. We had not gone far
before we heard three shots. We did not go fast, but when we got
to where we had left you we saw that you were gone. Then the
chief said that you must have crossed the river. So we began to
cross too. We were just about in the middle, when the
Assiniboine came upon us, and began to fire. When we got across
a number of the enemy were there for their horses could swim
faster than we and of course they headed us off. Then we had a
fight. There were only three guns for us to fight with for while
we were crossing four of the men lost their guns in the water.
Two of our men were killed at the beginning of the fight. Our
Chief kept encouraging us saying that we must fight and die
bravely for some day our people would hear of our sad end. All
this time dirt was flying around us where the bullets struck.
The smoke of the guns was like a fog a little above our heads.
The Chief was shooting and talking to the Assiniboine, telling
them that many of them would fall before the last of us. We kept
them away as much as we could, but sometimes they would try to
run us down with their horses. After we wounded several of them,
they kept at a distance. When the sun was getting close to the
mountains, our Chief was killed. Our ammunition was nearly all
gone. There was a loose horse near by. I jumped on him and rode
away. Then the Assiniboine took after me. When I got to some
thick brush, I jumped off the horse and ran into the brush. They
took the horse and went back. Then I came on afoot. That is how
I come to be here with you now.”

We all lay down to rest for the night and about daybreak started
home. Just then the other three men came along. They got away
from the Assiniboine after dark. We travelled on for many nights
and days until we reached home.

When we got home we stopped on a hill near the camp, but did not
sing the song of victory. We gave the sad sign that three
warriors had been killed. One of our men stood out alone, took
three robes and, while the people in the camp were watching,
threw them away one by one. Then the Indians all knew that three
of our party had been lost and came running out to meet us.

Of a somewhat different character were the adventures of Many White Horses as narrated a short time before his death:

The Piegan were in camp at Ft. Benton. Rations gave out, so they
broke camp about sundown and pitched again after dark near some
brush. I planned to go on a raid against the Flathead for
horses. Next morning, a large party joined me and we went on to
High Wood where we met and camped with a white man and his
Indian wife. I traded my black and red blankets for his white
ones. We followed the south bank of the Missouri, the berries
were ripe, game was plenty and fat and the journey was pleasant.
We followed up the Bear Tooth, or South Fork, where the railroad
runs now. When one day’s march from the Flathead country, a
storm came up, and beat the tall grass down flat. In jest, I
said to Calf Necklace, “Let us go on alone. I believe that when
we get out the wind will go down.” Soon we came to an open
country and to a cliff. Looking over we saw a river and a
Flathead camp. We returned to tell our party but lost them. We
could not trail them as the grass was down. Then we gave the
call for having seen an enemy. The party answered and soon
joined us. Then we made a medicine smoke and gave prayers for
success.

I have a war-bonnet with four songs. When transferred to me, my
face was painted and the songs taught. When near the enemy I go
through this in the same way. I painted my powder horn and
bullet pouch. I carried two awls, mending materials and extra
moccasins.

There was no moonlight that night. We walked down to the
Flathead camp and found some of them still awake. Nearly all
were drunk and had not tied up their horses. One horse, however,
was tied to a tipi pole, a striped pinto. My party scattered
every one for himself. Some had guns, some bows. The horses were
wild so they were run up a hill into brush. The men now worked
by twos and threes driving five to ten horses each. After we got
into the brush some were caught. I mounted at last. I decided to
follow the ridge of the mountain. The way was rough and many of
our horses got away. I went in the lead to pick the way. It
snowed and made going slow. At last we lost the way and stopped
to rest and repair moccasins. Soon the weather cleared and we
found the top of the ridge but the snow was very deep. It took
us all the next day to reach the gap at Sun River Pass. The next
night we started down to the plains. Two of my men got very
tired and sleepy so we stopped to rest them. All lay down, but
overslept and awoke at dawn. When I awoke I called out and all
jumped up scared. I was angry with myself. Our horses were gone.

Now, it seems that when the Flathead discovered their loss, a
party set out on our trail. While we slept they passed near and
camped far in advance in a little valley. Our escape was
certainly due to my songs and medicines.

We found most of the horses and started on. As I learned
afterwards, the Flathead saw us going over a ridge. We watered
our horses at Sun River and went on. I went on ahead to look
over a ridge. As I came back the party signalled something
wrong. They had found the tracks of the Flathead party. As we
went on we saw two antelope and stopped for one to pursue them.
Then Calf called out, “Flatheads are after us.”

They dashed out of a valley and killed one of us before we could
mount and soon after, another. Our party began a dash for home.
It was funny to see one fellow’s leggings slip down to his
ankles and get tangled under his horse. My horse was strong so I
rode behind whipping the others. As the Flathead were good shots
we scattered some. I could hear our pursuers talk but not
understand them. After a while, I saw that their horses were
very tired: so I directed our course over the tops of the hills.
As their horses soon gave out, they dismounted to rest. When out
of sight we turned back toward Sun River and hid in the brush.
It seemed a very long day. One of our party was wounded and some
had lost their clothes. When night came we started again. Some
rode double so there would be blankets to cover all. The next
day we spent on the Teton; the next near Dupuyer, where we found
the old camp fires of our people. Finally we got home.

HERALDRY AND PICTURE WRITING.

The term deed as used by us has the same social significance as coup, a full discussion of which has been given by Grinnell.[33] Without going into details, it seems that among the Blackfoot, the capture of a weapon was the coup, or deed, rather than the formal striking of the enemy, though such was also taken into account. Our impression is, from what we have heard in the field, that there was no such formal development of the coup practice as among many other tribes. An old man relating his deeds seldom mentions scalps but dwells upon the number of guns, horses, etc. captured; whereas, according to our observation, a Dakota boasts of his wounds, enemies slain and coups. However, heraldry was a prominent feature in Blackfoot life. By this term, we mean those conventions by which deeds are recorded and accredited, with their social privileges and responsibilities. Anyone with such recognized deeds is likely to be called upon to name a child, to perform special services in social functions as well as specific parts of ritualistic ceremonies. In all cases of this kind the warrior comes forward and in a loud voice states what deed or deeds he has performed and immediately renders the required service. For this, he may receive presents unless the occasion is one of special honor. In theory, at least, the formal announcement is a kind of challenge for contradiction by any of the assembly in so far that it implies the eligibility of him who makes it. Women do not ordinarily perform such deeds but often recount the embroidering of robes, their resistance of temptation, etc., when about to perform some ceremonial function, a truly analogous practice.

As elsewhere, the graphic recording of deeds was chiefly by picture writing, upon robes, back-walls and the outsides of tipis. A few might be indicated upon leggings, but in general, garments were not considered the place for such records. The outside and inside of the tipi were the conventional places. Good examples of this are still to be seen. An unusual tipi was collected by the writer in 1903, bearing several hundred figures, representing sixty-six distinct deeds most of which were performed by seven Piegan then living. The tipi was in reality one of the “painted lodges” to be discussed under another head, but may be considered here merely as a good example of picture writing and heraldry.

]

In the sketches, Fig. 1 is a small vertical section of the tipi cover. Its entire circumference to about half the height is one continuous array of sketches. From this series a number of typical groups were reassembled in Fig. 2. Beginning at the top in Fig. 1, we have Bear Chief (a) on foot surprised by Assiniboine Indians but he escaped; (b) Double Runner cut loose four horses; (c) Double Runner captures a Gros Ventre boy; (d) Double Runner and a companion encounter and kill two Gros Ventre, he taking a lance from one; (e) even while a boy Double Runner picked up a war-bonnet dropped by a fleeing Gros Ventre which in the system counts as a deed; (f) as a man he has two adventures with Crow Indians, taking a gun from one; (g) he, as leader, met five Flathead in a pit and killed them; (h) a Cree took shelter in some cherry brush in a hole, but Big Nose went in for him; (i) not completely shown, but representing a Cree Indian killed while running off Piegan horses; (j) Double Runner, carrying a medicine pipe, took a bow from a Gros Ventre and then killed him; (k) Double Runner took a shield and a horse from a Crow tipi, a dog barked and he was hotly pursued; (m) he killed two Gros Ventre and took two guns; (n) he captured a Gros Ventre woman and a boy; (o) he took four mules. From this sample, it will be noted that a great deal is left for the memory, though a little practice will enable one to determine the character of the exploit suggesting each drawing. Fig. 2 needs less comment as the technical aspect of the work speaks for itself. The large man with a pipe is symbolic of the vision in which this type of tipi had its inception and, hence, belongs in a different category. The drawing was done by a number of individuals; in some cases, by the hero of the exploits, but often by a young man under his immediate direction. This is obvious in the varying degree in execution and conventionality, the range of which is adequately shown in the sketches. When considered as a system of recording deeds, it appears that much is left to the whim of the artist, but that certain general modes of suggesting common types of adventure are recognized and allowed to control the composition to such an extent that even a stranger may interpret the sketches with confidence. Of course, the function of such writing is to objectify the formal re-counting of deeds, only such performances as are so recognized and carry with them social and ceremonial values being considered worthy of a place in the series.

From the many examples collected, we selected the following more or less conventionalized symbols:

Wounds received or given are indicated by a black spot with a dash of red for bleeding. Enemies killed, when not fully pictured, are represented by a row of skeleton figures as in Fig. 3a, a form always used in heraldic horse decorations. In the pictured form, death is often indicated by three wounds—in the head, heart and thigh, Fig. 3b. A scalp taken is symbolized by human hair and white weasel skin, except in painting when the symbol is as in Fig. 3c.

The capture of the enemies’ property, or a deed, is indicated by pictures of the objects recognized as worth considering. While naturally, there is difference of opinion, the following may be taken as the approximate list of captures conferring ceremonial rights:—horses, guns, shields, lances, bows and quivers, shot-pouches and powder horns, daggers, war-bonnets, and all medicine objects. The following order or rank, was given by an informant recognized by the Piegan as an authority in heraldry:—gun, lance, bow, the enemy’s life, cutting a horse loose from a tipi, leading a war party, acting as a scout, shields, war-bonnets, a medicine pipe, and driving off loose horses. The most significant point is that while the life of an enemy is fourth, the capture of his gun is first. When a man was seen to fall with a gun, it was not unusual for one or more young men to rush boldly out to snatch the prize. To ride up, jerk a gun from an enemy’s hand and get away without injury to either party was the greatest deed possible. While in picturing such deeds realistic forms are used, as the symbol for a shield (Fig. 3d), they are often greatly conventionalized. Blankets, if counted, are shown as rectangles with one or two cross lines for the stripes on most trade blankets. Horses taken in open fight, when not pictured, are represented by track symbols, Fig. 5d and under the sketch of a mule in Fig. 1. The rectangular variant as found among many other tribes is not used as an equivalent.