9, 1883.) 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



343 



limes, but could not free himself, so I lumped out o£ the 

 paddle to the bonk. Even then he could not get out. but lay 

 there sinking in the mire. I tried to pull down a stick to put 

 under him, hut could find none that would give way, SO I 

 (.noted and ran down hue for an ax. When I got back. which 

 wa> in about twenty minutes, there was no horse to he seen, 

 daylight this morning we went back there, and found 

 when- he had come out. We have been looking for him 

 BVer since. :md the herder is still out, hut we can't find any 

 trace of him." 



"Are yon sure he is not therein the mud?" asked the 

 Scout. 



•'Quite sure, for 1 have sounded it. and about three feet 

 below the surface it is hard, rocky bottom." was the reply. 



"The horse is all right then," said Scout. -Tie will go 

 back to the ranch; bill how about the Bosses gun';" 



"That was slung across I la 1 saddle, and was left there when 

 1 went for the ax." 



"It is probably still on the saddle, then; audit' the old 

 horse goes hack on the prairie it will he safe, bat if lie goes 

 in the mountains and through the thick timber, it will 

 probably be torn off, and most likely lost, The best thing 

 lo do. I think, will be for me to ride the hills between here 

 and the ranch, so as to catch the old fellow, or find his trail 

 if he is still in this neighborhood. He may possibly have 

 led about all night, and be only just now starting for home. 

 Iknow that lie did not go back by the Sage Creek trail, if 

 he had. 1 should have seeu his tracks." 



At this moment the herder came riding up lo the cabin, and 

 reported thai his quest had been unsuccessful, lie had seen 

 no trades that were made by the lost horse. The messages 

 sent him by the Boss were delivered, and he took down the 

 bars of the corral and let out Ids eager flock, which at once 

 started for the hills. The Miner and the Scout then went 

 down to the creek bed to view the scene of last night- i aias- 

 trophe. At the point where the little tributary entered the 

 main creek the rocky walls of the valley were forty or fifty 

 yards apart, and the intervening space was a smooth level 

 meadow. Above and below this the quaking aspen.s grew 

 thickly, but here it was grassy and without timber, save for 

 an occasional clump of willows. At the lower edge ©f the 

 meadow was what looked like an ancient breastwork — here 

 and there broken down by water — two feet or more above 

 the general level of the ground. In fact now that there was 

 daylight to look the ground over in, it was plain enough that 

 beaver meadow-. 



Any OIKJ who has traveled much in the mountains knows 

 what traps for man and beast beaver meadows are. The 

 method of their formation is something like this: The 

 beavers, rinding : , suitable pli.ee, build their dam. and by it 

 the water is hacked up over a considerable area, and the 

 ground hecomes thoroughly soaked. The spriag freshets 

 iirinn down each year from the streams above.great quantities 

 of mud, chiefly decayed vegetable matter, and this sinks in the 

 comparatively quiet waters of the pond. After the lapse of 

 years the pond thus becomes too shallow to he used by the 

 beavers, which then move off and build another dam some- 

 where else on the stream. The old dam no longer receives 

 attention. It rots, becomes leaky, and at length the wafer 

 breaks through it, the pond is drained, and the water returns 

 to its former channel. For a year or two the old pond bed 

 is covered with a rank growth of weeds ami water-loving 

 plants, hut as the moisture gradually leaves the soil, the 

 common grasses take the place nf these, nnd the beaver 

 meadow looks like any other portion of the valley. There 

 are almost always soft spots in it, however, bog holes and 

 narrow ditches, into which man and horse are likely to fall, 

 and it is frequently a matter of the utmost difficulty to get a 

 horse out of one of these places without injury. 



The spot into which old Bill had walked was one of these 

 bog holes, It wa» full of soft black mud, on which grew 

 enough green grass to conceal its real nature until you 

 were quite close to it. In the daytime no one of experience 

 would have attempted to pass over if. At night any one 

 might ba.ve done so. There in the mire could be seen 

 the spot where Bill had been, and from it leading to the op- 

 posite bank, a distance of but eight, or ten feet, were the 

 marks where bis hoofs had sunk deeply into the soft, soil as 

 he had floundered out. The tracks led down the creek for 

 a few yards, and then turned iuto it airain, and it sould be 

 seen where he had drank and then crossed over to the other 

 side. There the trail was lost. 



The two men then started up into the hills to see if they 

 could rind any trace of the missing animal. To both of them 

 the loss of the rifle seemed a much more serious matter than 

 thai of the horse. If the latter was alive it was a moral cer- 

 tainty that he would sooner or later turn up at the ranch, 

 but it was not at all sure that he would have gun. or saddle, 

 or bridle on him when he appeared. Besides, even if he did 

 not return, money could buy another horse well enough, and 

 the loss would not. be a serious one, but; money could not re- 

 place the. old rifle, so battered and bruised by rough usage, 

 and yet BO unvaryingly effective in its owner's hands. When 

 one has carried a gun for years, has killed with it many 

 hundreds of head of game, and has had sometimes t"o 

 rely on it for his life, it becomes to him something more 

 than so much wood and Iron. It is a dear friend, to which 

 he is as much attached as if it were u living, sentient creature. 

 So, although it seemed likely that the horse had returned to the 

 ranch by the prairie, over which he would probably carry the 

 gnu iii safety, it was possible that he might hove done s 



through the timber, where he would have been almost sure to 

 stripitoff; and thcreforcthe two partners traveled all day T over 

 lite hills searching for the trail. About 3 o'clock tbeymet by 

 appointment at the cabin, neither having seen any traces of 

 the horse. The Miner had seen three elk and the Scout 

 three deer, two of them just as he was returning lo the cabin, 

 and within rifle-shot of the door. 



It was now determined that the latter should return to the 

 ranch by the prairie, see whether Bill had come in, and 

 return in the morning with a horse for the Miner, when they 

 would continue the search. Half a mile down the valley 

 the Scout came upon the tracks of a horse made within 

 twenty-four hours, and going in the same direction he was 

 following. A careful examination of them convinced him 

 that they were those of the lost beast, and when three hours 

 later he rode up to the ranch he was not much surprised at 

 seeing old Bill in front of the house, quietly munching the 

 grass. The first person seen announced that the horse, with 

 gun and all his accoutrements in good order, had been 

 brought to the house by a cowboy that afternoon. He had 

 come to the cow camp the night before about twelve, and 

 had been detained there. When during the day the drive 

 passed the ranch. Bill manifested a disposition to turn toward 

 home, and one of the men brought him to the house to see 

 if he belonged there. 



The next morning about i) o'clock the Miner saw appear 

 over the bluffs near the sheep camp two mounted men and a 

 led horse, and when they stopped at the cabin a broad smile 

 of relief and satisfaction overspread his countenance as he 

 recognized old Bill and the long rifle. The time to be de- 

 voted to sheep hunting had all been wasted in horse hunt 

 ing, and they had nothing to do but to pack up and return 

 to the ranch. When they rode up to the door, Grizzly 

 Jake, who was at work at the carpenter's bench, sang out to 

 the Boss: "Here come the sheep hunters. Out o' luck. 

 hoys, ain't ye?" Yo. 



Vlu j^yortm\\mi ^ontiilt. 



LIFE AMONG THE BLACKFEET. 



BY J. wiixahu scritn.TZ. 



FROM where rise the transparent, rushing streams, which 

 form the headwaters of that mighty northern river, the 

 Saskatchewan, south to the Yellowstone"; from the foothills 

 of the Rocky Mountains between these two rivers, east to 

 about the 104th meridian of longitude, west from Greenwich, 

 was once the home of the Blackfeet. Here, as nowhere 

 else in our whole country, has nature piled up great moun- 

 tains and spread out vast prairies with a more than lavish 

 hand. All along the western border of this region, the 

 Rockies lift their snow-capped peaks above the clouds. In 

 the northwestern part are the Porcupine Hills. Southeast of 

 these the three lonely buttes of the Sweet Grass Hills stand 

 surrounded by a vast expanse of prairie. Further to the 

 southeast, and running parallel with the Missouri, are the 

 Bear's Paw and Little Rocky Mountains. South of the Mis- 

 souri, between it and the Yellowstone, is a vast cluster of 

 ranges, the Highwood, Belt, Judith. Moccasin and Snowy 

 Mountains. Between these mountain ranges, and between 

 the river valleys stretches everywhere the great prairie. 

 Not the brilliantly flowered prairie of the south, nor the 

 green marshy plains of the far north. Except for a few 

 short weeks in early spring, the short, sparse bunch grass is 

 sere and yellow. The ashy gray of the sage brush but adds 

 to the general sombreness of the landscape. Perhaps in the 

 distance a range or two of mountains may loom up with 

 startling distinctness, although a hundred' miles away, or 

 they may appear enveloped in a blue misty haze, the "gather- 

 ing of the ghosts." The seemingly dreary prairie is not 

 without its beauty. Everywhere it is cut and seamed with 

 great deep ravines, whose perpendicular walls are crowned 

 with fantastic columns and figures of sandstone, carved by 

 the storms and winds of ages. Here and there, on some 

 high bleak ridge, a few scattering pines may be seen; short 

 stunted trees with huge gnarled limbs and great black roots 

 which twine around rocks and creep into fissures, seeking a 

 secure foothold against the fierce blasts of winter. 



Not so very long ago these prairies were graced with 

 countless herds of buffalo and antelope; along the wooded 

 valleys of the stream, and ou the pine-covered slopes of the 

 mountains, were once numberless hands of elk, deer, sheep 

 and bears. Some of the game is yet to be found. Bands of 

 the ancient inhabitants are yet to be seen — small remnants 

 of a once mighty- nation. Still camping where their fore- 

 fathers were wont to pitch their lodges, some of them pre- 

 serve their native dignity and hold to their ancestral 

 customs as sacredly as ever; others are demoralized, dis- 

 couraged and indifferent. On the prairie, but partly con- 

 cealed by the thin grass, lie the bleached, skeletons'of the 

 buffalo. lu the trees by the river, securely fastened ou their 

 aerial sepulchres, lie the motiouleas forms of the many dead, 

 whose ghosts are happy in another land. The broad, deep 

 trails, where thousands were wont to pass on their annual 

 hunts, are now grass-grown and nearly obliterated by the 

 leveling baud of time. To those who "were accustomed to 

 see the prairie covered with living forms, the smoke of a 

 thousand lodges curling upward in the still, clear air, the 

 change is marvellous which a few short years have wrought. 

 There are those of us, idle dreamers, who would that it 

 might be otherwise. But it may not be. The weaker 

 organism must give way t» the "stronger, the lower to the 

 higher intellect. Before the bullets and far deadlier fire- 

 water of the whites, these simple men have been swept awav 

 like leaves before ft" wind. "But they were only Indians," 

 say some. True: yet they were human beings, they loved 

 their wild, free life as well as we love our life: they had 

 pleasures and sorrows as well as we. 



It is not the purpose of this paper to give a history of the 

 Blackfeet since the discovery of their country by the whites. 

 It is enough to say that like'most all other Indians they have 

 bitterly opposed the inarch of civilization aud have been 

 defeated, and that the "Piegaus," one of the tribes of the 

 Blackfeet yet remaining on United States territory, are 

 in as destitute a condition as is possible for a peopls to be. 



According to tradition, the first white men the Blackfeet 



ever saw were a detachment of the Hudson's Bay Company, 

 which established a trading post on the Saskatchewan at 

 the close of the last, century. In the journal of Louis and 

 Clarke's expedition, the narrator mentions meeting the Black- 

 feet when the expedition were on Ibis side of the main 

 range. Black foot tradition, however, makes no mention of 

 this fact, and the writer is inclined to believe that some other 

 tribe must have been mistaken for Blackfeet. Surely such 

 an important event as the first visits of white men to their 

 country would have been included in their traditions, and in 

 their unwritten history Mr. Jos. Kipp has the honor of being 

 the first white man they ever saw south of the Saskatche- 

 wan, he having come iip the Missouri to the mouth of the 

 Marias River with an expedition of the American Fur Com- 

 pany's men in 1832. 



At the time the American Fur Company established its 

 post at the mouth of the Marias, the Blackfoot nation was in 

 its prime. At that time it is said to have numbered some 

 2,500 lodges, or 25, 000 people. It was the largest and most 

 powerful body of Indians in the Northwest. Together with 

 its allies, the Sarcees and Gros Ventres, some twenty hostile 

 tribes were without difficulty kept beyond the boundaries of 

 its vast hunting ground. 



The Blackfoot nation consists of three tribes, the Black- 

 feet, Bloods and Piegans. Each tribe consists of a number 

 of "gentes," a "gens'" being a body of consanguineal kin- 

 dred in the male line. Below is a complete list of the gentes 

 of each tribe. The writer has taken great pains to trans- 

 late the names so as to retain the meaning as closely as ROS- 

 sible. Any one familiar with an Indian language will under- 

 stand how difficult this is to accomplish. 



Tribe Site-iift-kirft— Blackfoot, from Sikx-i-nttts, black, and 

 fih-liilt-tshtt, fool. 



GrBHTES; 



POh-M-nah'-mah-yU-x— Rotten bows. 

 Ifo-tah'-tiist-'ik*— Many medicines. 

 mkxh; -o-kiikx— Black elks. 

 E-mti-ta-po/ik'-si-i/U-o— Dogs naked. 

 Ah-ki -xtnn-ikx- Much manure. 

 X i -yd-molce-kam.-%k4— Sliders, 

 ffcyiiks — Liars. 

 T -s}k-*t,)k ik»— Biters. 



S'i n-'ik-x'ix -lid-yikx— Ea rly-fi nished eating. 



Ap-pf-k'i-ii'ikx — Skunks. 



Itf-drnJe-trt-ah'-ioat-Bpik*— Meafceaters. 



Tribe -Bloods," ICi-wih. The meaning of this word is 

 uncertain. Perhaps it was originally Ah -k't-nah— many 

 chiefs. 



Gexter; 



S&g-ht'^d-Jc&kg— Black elks 

 I'-yfamo-lee-k&nikg— Sliders, 



Ah -kiro-n U-t next*— .Many lodge-pol e«. 

 Ah-pat-o-xl-ki-nah — Behind direction ' 'Bloods. " 

 fs-tse' Khm.'fi— Woods "Bloods." 

 Iti-iihk ■ -ito-ii'm-Htfi m-Hx — Long-tail lodge-pole. 

 Wf-Hf -*/.•(/.'.-•— One fighters. 



Stite .,,/, .pfn-.-ik*— Black blood. 



Am ■sum-&MXg. 



JS-si* -i,-ki ix-im ikx — Hair shirts. 



Ah-kl -pO-kakx — Many children. 



Sijk-si-iinh -mah-ii'ikx — Short bows. 



Ap-pe-kl-ylkx — Skunks. 



Airo'-tasR-iku—- Many horses. 



Tribe "Picgans." p,>-kfni4— spotted tau. that is, a robe 

 which has hard spots on it after being tanned. 



Gf.xtes: 



h'-niU. x-ikx— Small. 



Ap -j* -Tn-yVis — Skunks. 



Kii-iiie-t'ikx — Buffalo manure. 



fl-pok-u'- links — Fat roast erv 



Ah -p'l-tap-ikx — Blood-people. 



Si-fiiir-i/'ikx— One eaters. 



Kul i-lm-ikx—l Laugh. 



Sik-'V-xi-piim-ikx— Black moccasin soles. 



S!,i-ik-xjx-tfi<-j-y',kx— Early-finished eating. 



Me-ok-waK -pel-neks — Seldom lonesome. 



MiUirhi-lkx— All cteef*. 



K-ii'ik-x-, -hihki-pwl-ikx. 



hk-x) i, -l-i'ip-ikx — Worm people. 



Me hi, -km-l-ulkx— Big tops. 



8$k o /K>/,-x/-Ui~tkx — Black fat roasters. 



m-k'ui, -ikx— Mad campers. 



Xv-tnf-xi-txh-xtiiiu-ik*— Bulls cozae close. 



s; ', ,,',:. 7-> ;,,-;<;.« — Black smoke-holes. 



Md-tah -uix-ikx — .Many medicines. 



He -lilk •-//.,-/. ;r- f ;-)i(ip-'ikx— One will their hearts. 



A/'-/, J-tii'-ko-Un-'ikx — Many loose women. 



It will be readily seen from the translations of the above, 

 that each gens takes its name from some peculiarity or habit 

 it is supposed to possess. Thus, the Blackfoot sens "Slid- 

 ers" was so named on account of the great love the people 

 had for sliding down the banks into the ice on buffalo ribs. 

 "Behind direction" is the name for the north. The gens 

 "Behind direction" Bloods was so called because it was 

 greatly attached to an extreme northern portion of the great 

 hunting grounds. The gens "Kilt'-Mm-Iks— ? Lan<rh, '' was 

 so called because its members were seldom seen to laugh. 

 "Kiit-I" is the sound which asks a direct question and may 

 be represented in our language by the words do, did, is, are", 

 and was, when used in asking direct questions. Tin ! 

 gens "Blood -people," received its name on account of its 

 members' abnormal appetite for cooked blood. The name of 

 the gens ' 'Small" is perhaps the on! v one which give- no clue 

 to its meaning. Long ago, says tradition, this gens was out 

 on a hunting expedition, and, 'meeting a camp of mountain 

 Indians, traded buffalo robes for robes of different mountain 

 animals. Upon returning to camp the other Piegans were 

 surprised to see them wearing such small robes, and ever 

 since they have been called "Small' 



It will be noticed that taeh tribe has a few gentes which 



