= 
grassy space in the edge of the woods, containing some 
fifteen graves surmounted by Catholic crosses. Nearly all 
are decorated with red, white and blue rosettes, made of 
paper, cloth and birch bark, which are thickly fastened to a 
willow wand bent in the form of 8 snow shoe, The coffins 
are of birch bark, which does not ret as soon as wood, The 
graves are lined with boards, and many of them have a roof- 
like coyerins, those of the chiefs being double, with an 
aperture in the top for food which sustains the soul on its 
journey to the land of the hereafter, Eyery burial is conse- 
erated by a funeral feast, which takes place at lhe grave. 
Variety of food rather than quantity is the desideratum, and 
every one invited is expected to furnish something. One 
may visit the Cheneux a dozen times in a summer and not 
see a dozen Indians, but when a death occurs swift boatmen 
are dispatched to the different settlements, and it is nothing 
unusual to see two hundred at _a funeral, many of them 
haying paddled twenty miles. The last death, a very sad 
one, was ihat of a young and heautiful squaw, who had 
been married but six months, Mrs, Patrick, in speaking 
touchingly of the event, said; '“As I sat beside her she raised 
herself in bed, smiled brightly, and extending her arms, said, 
‘I see two women in a boat; oh, how beautiful they are; and 
they are coming for me,’ and fell back dead.” ; 
1 stood a long time beside this grave, and many very curi- 
ous thoughts came up that tarried obstinately for weeks, for 
I believed every word that had been told me about this poor 
girl, now grown to 
“A daughter of the gods. divinely tall 
And most divinely fair.” 
After our first supper st the Cheneux, we passed a very 
pleasant evening at the Patrick mansion, being formally in- 
troduced to old Jack Do-skin-no and wife by Mr, P.’s 
daughter, Maud, who acted as interpreter, Ostensibly, 
Jack had come to make a social call, but the presumption is 
that he came for something more substantial than words of 
welcome. In either case he was not disappointed, for he 
went his way rich in pork and flour, with a kind invitation 
to come again, Jack is said to be one hundred years old— 
more or less—has a pleasant and intelligent face, fine eyes, 
and a beautiful head of snow white hair. Two months 
before we met him he had fallen and broken an arm, but 
this did not prevent him and his aged wife paddling an 
unwieldy canoe fourteen miles to pay their respects to the 
Patrick family. Being the leading medicine man in the 
community, | afterward consulted him regarding my little 
girl, who had been poisoned with wild parsley, He pre- 
seritbed oil taken from the head of a sturgeon, which had 
the desired effect. Mr. White Loon, another celebrity, fur- 
nished the specific at ruling prices. 
A few of the Chippewas have farms on the islands, but 
most of {hem depend on fishing and odd jobs for a liveli- 
hood. They make a good quality of grained maple sugar, 
which is put up in small packages with a fancy birch bark 
covering and the whole styled a mo-eoc. They dispute the 
slander that the caked sugar is congealed and squeezed into 
shape in any article of cast-off clothing that comes handy. 
Elaborate matting is woven of rushes which are first boiled 
in some unknown decoction to make them pliable, tough 
and yellow. 
From 100 to 200 of the males are employed by Mr, P. in 
winter, who is authority for the statement that they are 
strictly honest at all times, and faithful workers when there 
is a dearth of whisky. In one sense the same can be said 
of their army of lank, yellow dogs—they are always faithful 
to their stomachs, but domot possess that fine discrimination 
of ownership of their masters when anything catable or 
moyable is to be discussed, They are constantly moying 
from one island to another seeking whom they may deyour, 
Mr. J. Matsh, of Chicago, is of the opinion that their 
ambition would Jead them to capture a red hot stove, if given 
half a chance, as his party lost the dish cloth, a large ham 
and all the bacon they possessed the first night they camped. 
Laboring under the delusion that a panther had been thus 
sacrilegious, it was reported (maliciously, I fear) by the 
ladies in the party, that their Nimrod valiantly stood guard 
the rest of the night, armed with a revolver minus the cylin- 
der, Selah. It can easily he proven that these Indian curs 
are expert berry pickers, and live almost exclusively upon 
red raspberries during August when their owners are away 
after huckleberries. They are said to be excellent deer dogs, 
If they are as good for deer as they are for swill pails they 
must be very valuable, and a good place to hunt decr would 
be about 1,000 miles from an Indian encampment. 
There are a number of fair violinists among the dusky 
islanders who furnish dance music gratuitously every time 
there is a gathering at one of the more pretentious cabins, 
and it is safe to say they will never retire for want of prac- 
tice, for the old-fashioned cotillion is danced oyer and over 
at their frequent meetings, each time with astonishing zeal. 
But of all their enjoyments no one is so heartily entered 
into as the célebration of the New Year, About Christmas 
the entire band, women and children included, assemble at 
the house of some white settler who is usually aroused from 
his morning nap by a volley of musketry intended to be con- 
ciliating, but if regnrded for atime by an occasional new 
comer as apvressive, the greater the fun when matters are 
explained, Fora morning appetizer each member of the 
family receives a kiss and embrace from every person in this 
motley throng, trifling presents are bestowed, ‘Happy New 
Years” are in order, a shake bag is held open to receive any 
edible the settler may see fit to give, a parting volley is fired 
and the procession moyes on. By New Years morning the 
circuit of the remote settlements on the mainland has been 
completed, a grand volley is fired at sunrise, the shake bag 
opened and the day and following night given to intense re- 
joicing. 
’ Although there are only about a dozen islands in the 
group, it will take a good oursman four weeks to thoroughly 
explore the many channels and inlets about them and deter- 
mine to his satisfaction where the best fishing is 10 be had. 
I rowed from five to twenty miles nearly every day and did 
not go over all the inviting ground, but my experience 
went to show that from Aug. 1 to Sept, 15, the best bass, 
cat, perch and pike fishing will be found in and about the 
bay, one mile southeast of the Pierre farm. A gentleman 
from Detroit has a summer cottage and dock on one of the 
points extending into this bay, where black bass love to con- 
gregate, but inquiry there revenled the strange fact that the 
best fishing grounds were distant four or fiye miles in all 
directions, _ 
Late in Se, “ember lake trout may be taken with the spoon 
near fhe open . ter, and brook trout are reported plentiful 
in the streams nt wat hand on the main land, Good duck 
shooting can be had in October. Having my wife and little 
girl with me it was necessary to do some perch fishing every 
| 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
day, as half a pound a minute looked better on their ledger 
than one ten-pounder an hour. WNine-tenths of all we caught 
were returned to the water and we made no effort to sec 
what could be done in any one day. An expert angler, by 
working five hours a day, could equal our score, which was 
as follows: “Aug. 2,4 pike. Aug. 4, 6 pike, 6 black bass, 
50 perch, rainy, Aug, 5, ¥ pike, 72 perch, 1 18-pound mas- 
kallonge, cloudy. Aug. 6, rainy, catch minnows. Aug, 7, 
45 perch, 4 pike, 3 bass, 22 catfish, pleasant. Aug. 8,1 12- 
pound pike, 16 perch, pleasant. Aug, 9, 1 cat, 33 perch, 1 
bass, 4 pike, pleasant. Aug. 11, cold and windy. Aug. 12, 
30 perch, 2 bass, 4 pike, 1 16-pound maskallonge, pleasant. 
Aug. 13, 56 perch, 5 bass (one a 5 pounder), 5 pike, pleasant. 
Aug. 14, 22 perch, 3 pike, cloudy and windy. Aug, 15, go 
to Prentis Bay, 5 pike, pleasant. Aug, 16, fish two hours, 
67 perch, 3 pike, 1 4 pound bass, cloudy. Aug 17, my 
birthday, fish an hour, 1 15-pound pike. Aug, 18, 4 bass, 
118 perch, 3 pike, 1 wall-eye 9 pounds, cloudy. Aug. 19, 
5 bass, one weighs 54, 6 pike, 58 perch, pleasant, Aug, 20, 
very windy. Aug, 21, 77 perch, 8 bass, 2 pike. Aug. 22, 
17 bass, 3 pike, 1 trout, 18-pounder, pleasant, see fine mirage. 
Ang. 28, 105 perch, 2 pike, 1 bass, cloudy. Aug. 25, fish 
alone, 36 black bass, cloudy.” Bass caught with minnow 
bait, lake trout, pike and maskallonge with spoon and rod 
and reel. Worms can be dug near the old barns on the 
Pierre farm but are very small. C. A. ©. 
Totepo, O, 
A LEGEND OF CRAZY WOMAN’S FORK. 
EE the journey through that grand mountainous region of 
Northern Wyoming, one of the most favored camping 
spots is on the banks of the pretty little stream of water 
which issues from the mountains at a distance of about a 
league from the trail, known as Crazy Woman’s Fork. 
This camp on the fork was formerly noted for its danger 
from Indian attacks, as an abundance of game being found 
in the yalley, brought the redskins there fo replenish their 
supplies of meat. Notwithstanding this, the beautiful and 
diversified yiews of lovely scenery hastened, and still do 
hasten the parties traveling in that region to camp for a 
night, at least, on the banks of the limpid stream that re- 
freshes man and beast with its cool waters from its never- 
failing source in the range. The hanks are diversified with 
clumps of cottonwood trees, and to the west you behold the 
tall spurs of the Divide rising up, as from your very feet, 
their summits covered with snow, while the haze that sur- 
rounds them gives them an appearance of mystery, and 
causes one to experience, perhaps, some such feeling as did 
the Romans of old when they looked at the white pinnacles 
of the Alps and wondered what was beyond. 
At the close of a beautiful day in September, in company 
with an Indian of the Crow nation named Little Wolf, [ 
reached the fork, and as we had traveled far, and were con- 
siderably fatigued, we turned our ponies up the north bank 
of the stream, and after going about a mile came to a beauti- 
ful little glade, where we uncinched and removed the packs 
from the mnles and picketed the four animals in the open, 
after which we made our camp in the edge of the cotton- 
wood grove which surrounded us. 
After disposing of our evening meal, while the Indian was 
gathering a supply of night wood, I walked through the 
grove until I reached the broad, open plain beyond. and was 
just in time to behold one of the most beautiful sunsets if 
has ever been my fortune to see. The sun was just sinking 
behind the mountains, and the rays, being retlected by the 
heavy mists, clothed the summits with that glorious crimson 
to be seen only in mountainous districts. After the last rays 
had died away I returned to our camp in the edge of the 
motte, The Indian was sitting cross-legged in front of the 
fire, smoking his pipe, and I soon joined him, After smok- 
ing for a short time in silence, Little Wolf suddenly asked 
me if I had ever heard how the stream on which we were 
encamped obtained its name. As | replied in the negative, 
he then related the following legend of Crazy Woman’s 
Fork: 
‘Two hundred years ago,” said he, ‘‘when the moon was 
brighter and there were more stars,* the Absarakas, or Crow 
Nation, were a great people and they roamed all over this 
country, from the Missouri to the west of the Yellowstone, 
and no dog of a Dacotah dare show himself here. 
“But the people had been wicked, and the Great Spirit 
darkened the heavens; and there was a great heat, so that 
the streams were dried up, and the snow disappeared from 
the highest peaks of the mountains. The buffalo, the elk, 
the big-horn and the antelope all disappeared and died away, 
so that there was a great famine’in the land, and the warrior 
saw his squaw and children die for the want of food which 
he could not find on all the plain nor on the mountain sides; 
so that the whole nation grieved, and mourned in sorrow of 
heart, 
*Stillthey kept up their wars with the Dacotahs,and fought 
many a bloody battle with them, while they were suffering 
most, and the game had entirely vanished. 
“One day the great medicine man called a council, and 
when the chiefs and elders were assembled, he told them a 
wouderful dream which he had had, in which he was bidden 
by the Great Spirit to gather the chiefs of the tribe at the 
fork of the stream by which they dwelt. 
“The ponics having all been eaten, they were obliged to 
make t!e journey on foot to the place of meeting. 
‘When they arrived at the bluffs on the edge of the valley 
they were surprised to see a bountiful supply of food spread 
on the bank of the stream near the forks, and a white woman 
standing up, making signs for them to descend from the 
bluffs. As they had never before seen a while squaw, they 
were greatly astonished. The medicine man descended to 
the valley, and the woman told him that the Great Spirit 
would talk through her to the councii. She then told him 
that the wars of the tribe were displeasing to the Great 
Spirit, and that they must make peace with the Dacotah 
nation. When that was done, the great chief Bear-that- 
grabs should return to her. So they dispatched runners to 
the Dacotahs, and peace was declared between the tribes for 
the first time in one hundred years. 
‘‘When Bear-that-grabs returned to her, she told him to 
follow her to the mountains, and when they came to the 
Big Horn, where the rock was perpendicular, directed him 
to shuot three arrows. The first one struck the rock, the 
second flew over the mountain. The third was discharged, 
and a terrible noise followed: the heavens were aglow with 
lightning; the thunder shook the mountains; the earth 
trembled, and the rock was rent asunder, and out of the 
fissure came countless herds of buffalo, filling the valleys 
and covering the hills. The hearts of the people were glad, 
_*This expression in his figurative language means, ‘‘When the In- 
dian‘s lot was happier and game as plentiful as the stars,” 
and they ate and were merry, and returned thanks to the 
Great Spirit and to the good white woman. 
“To this day when anything of rote is about to befall the 
tribe, the spirit of the white woman is seen hovering over 
the mountain at Crazy Woman’s Fork. The great fissure 
in the rock is the cafion of the Big Horn River.” 
Such was the legend, or at least such is a synopsis of it, 
for Little Wolf was nearly three hours in relating it, 
“The Crows,” said he, “‘have always been friendly to the 
whites, and my people know that they are imposed upon by 
the Government agents in a worse manner than the tribes 
who make all the trouble, For they know it is not neces- 
sary to buy us off with presents to keep the peace as they do 
the others. Moreover, the Government has taken away some 
of our Jands and given them to the Dacotahs, who are fight- 
ing and murdering the whites as often as possible.” 
he Indians are not all bad, as those who have had any 
intercourse with them well know, I have lived and hunted 
with different bands of the northern tribes for months at a 
time, and can say thatif the officials who have had control 
of Indian affairs had understood their business and pursued 
an upright and honest policy, there would have been no 
such troubles as have occurred, 
The responsibility of the various massacres of Okiboji, 
Fort Phil Kearney, the Little Big Horn and many others, 
does not rest with the Indians, and if carefully investigated 
they will be found to have resulted from broken treaties and 
the non-observance of what were to the Indians solemn 
promises, al] to the end that a ring of pusillanimous office 
holders might be satiated. I speak feelingly and_ intelli- 
gently, as I have witnessed such suffering among the Indians 
as would make one doubt the justice of God, and would be 
cause for universal assistance among civilized natiors, 
With the advent of settlers in Indian lands, the game dis- 
appears. Then comes starvation or war; for if they leave 
their reservations to hunt in some region where game is to 
be had (for the deer and other animals migrate regularly, 
and the Indians were formerly free to follow them) a great 
ery is raised and troops are sent to drive the wretched stary- 
ing people back. 
Some of us know how much the Indians have endured he- 
fore breaking their parts of the treaties. 
Derviu’s RAMROD. 
OVERHAULING THE DITTY-BAG. 
NE of the ‘‘dark days before Christmas,” cold, steady 
rain all day. No temptation to go out o’ doors. Strong 
inducement to stay inside and practice on bright fires, cook- 
ery, gossip, etc. An old sailor, when he has a pleasant Sun- 
day to himself, and there is no call to make or take in sail, 
is morally certain to overhaul his ‘‘chist” from till to keelson, 
An old hunter is just as certain to overhaul his ditty-bag 
and dufile. 
Whereby it may be understood that, on this stormiest of 
winter Sundays, | go through a small tin box and a little 
doeskin bag, containing souvenirs of some fifty years, 
largely devoted to the woods. 
Firstly, here is a little muslin bag containing a specimen 
bullet fitting every favorite rifle I have ever used or owned. 
About one dozen of the bullets are enveloped in parchment, 
and carefully but briefly marked. Each of these has a his- 
tory; and I am too glad that I had the forethought to do it, 
For instance; here is the ragged, flattened, round ball, with 
which I killed the best and fattest short-legged black bear 
I have ever seen. Alas! How long ago? I killed him on 
the 10th of November, 1857. Tempus fugit. The ball 
is a sixty to the pound, round. And here are the two round 
balls with which I killed the largest buck I have ever shot 
in my life. One went in 6n the right side, the other on the 
left. Each ball lodged against the skin on the opposite side. 
And both are nearly round. The buck weighed 222 pounds. 
And here is the ball ! am looking for, the conical bullet 
that my gentlemanly critic, ‘J. J. M.,” objects to as too 
light. I send you the bullet, just as it was cut out of a big 
doe, thirty-seven or thirty-eight years ago last month. In a 
former article I called it eighty round to the pound, That 
meant with a heavy patch. ‘To-day I test it by the modern 
caliber, and find that it stands for just sixty-four to the 
pound, 7. ¢., nitked ball. In other words, and in modern 
parlance, .40.caliber Maynard. The shot was made as the 
doe jumped from a spring-bed, and her ladyship was obliged 
to make three or four open jumps before she could get a 
heavy tree trunk between her tail and the rifle; consequence 
was she was struck on the inside of the starboard hip.- Bul- 
let ranged forward ‘to the brisket, and was cut out lying butt 
end foremost against the skin. It was nearly perfect in 
form; and the doe fell in sight dead. I killed sixteen deer 
with these bullets in Eaton county, Mich., and this is the 
only bullet I cut ouf of a deer that was not sprawled, spread 
or spattered in some way. 
Isend you another conical bullet, a .50-caliber. I send it 
because it was shot through a yearling doe, almost precisely 
as the other. The doe ran a mile and wasthen pulled down 
by a couple of sharp deer dogs. I send you a third, a long, 
club-like chunk of lead. It weighs just four times as much 
as the little hollow-pointed bullet that killed the big doe— 
.45-caliber, 1-dare say such bullets have killed, or may kill, 
dead loads of deer, but I have not seen them. Away with 
such bullets. What is the good? A fool can’t shoot 
anyhow, and a good shot does not need such a leaden terror, 
And here area couple of additional specimens—two strings 
of rattles, from our mountain rattlesnakes. The first string 
did consist of eighteen perfect rattles, from a large yellow 
rattlesnake, A fool spoiled the string. All the same there 
are seventeen rattles left. The snake measured 5 feet 34 
inches. The other string, consisting of ten rattles, I have a 
high regard for. The owner was lively, sharp and game, 
She was heavier and more gamy than the old yellow. Best 
of all, she bit the meanest boy on Pine Creek. Why in 
Gehenna the snake should be dead while the boy is alive 
and well, can only be accounted for by the advantage de- 
rived from cousins and hickory clubs. Somebody once said 
in FOREST AND STREAM that the yellow rattlesnake was the 
female, the black was the male. At the time I thought so 
myself. Subsequently I saw on Asoph Run a fine, large, 
well-colored black rattlesnake, lying supinely stretched out, 
ona log, while twenty-one young rattlers ran down her 
throat. I want uo more instructions on the sex of rattle- 
snakes, 
I will haye a few pages to add on ‘‘Woodcraft” in the 
near future. NESSMUE. 
Duc. 7, 1884, 
Ow1s on Lone Isuanp.—Hditor Forest and Stream: Can 
the correspondent who, in your last issue, noted shooting of 
owls at Bay Ridge, give me the species of the birds?—D, 
