B02 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Jan. 19, 1888. 



THE ROCK CLIMBERS. 



TV. — THE NAMING OF THE TRIBES. 



TT was high noon at the St. Mary's Lakes when two 

 horsemen rode across the river, up the bank and into 

 the camp. Dinner was on the fire, and their ten-mile 

 ride had given the new arrivals a good appetite, as they 

 presently demonstrated to the satisfaction of all hands. 

 After the meal was over, preparations were made for a 

 start up the lake. The wagon was hauled down into the 

 brush on the shore and so carefully cached there that it 

 was invisible unless one knew just where it was hidden. 

 The double-tree and single-trees were dropped in the low 

 grass at the foot of a small tree and the harnesses hung 

 up in a tree, out of sight and well out of reach of the 

 coyotes. Then followed the transportation to the water's 

 side of the possessions of the party, and for an hour there 

 was hurrying back and forth between the beach and the 

 camp, and gradually a pile of baggage of rather appall- 

 ing dimensions arose by the side of the boat. At length 

 it was all there, from the tent pins up to the grub box, 

 and the work of stowing the boat began. When this 

 was completed Jack and Appekunny sprang in and took 

 the oars, the boat was shoved off and they started up the 

 lake. Then the Ehymer and Yo went up the bank, 

 gathered the horses and put the saddles on them, and 

 jumping on their own, started the "cavalyard" along the 

 trail. 



It was a perfect day, brilliant and warm and still. 

 Sometimes there was just the faintest air from the 

 west, which stole softly down the mountain sides, 

 gathering, as it loitered over the snow banks and among 

 the pines and through the little glades and parks and 

 along the grassy slopes, the faint sweet fragrance of bal- 

 sam and juniper and of the late autumn flowers, and of 

 the ripened and fallen leaves of the quaking aspen. Every 

 detail of outline of the jagged rock wall which stood 

 out so clearly against the sky on the west and south and 

 southeast was visible. The sky above was unmarked by 

 a single cloud, and its brilliant blue matched that of the 

 waters below, save when their azure was interrupted by 

 the flashing of nature's diamonds. Then the grass was 

 so yellow, and the pine-clad hills so dark, the rocks so 

 clearly gray, and the snow banks so purely white; the 

 waterfalls sparkled so bravely, and the heads of the tall 

 weeds nodded so blithely, and the air was so fresh, pure 

 and invigorating, and yet so soft and warm, chat it was a 

 delight and a happiness to be out of doors in this lovely 

 autumn weather, and to look upon this lovely scene. 



Over it all there was silence-^-the hush of the moun- 

 tains—the solemn stillness of these solitudes, a peace 

 which is eloquent to hearts educated to comprehend its 

 dumb speech. Ji this silence was broken it was only by 

 nature's sounds. Perhaps it was the lisp of some breath 

 from the mountains that whispered its message of cold 

 bare rocks and ice-bound rivulets to the long grass on the 

 ridges that lay bathed in the warm October sun; or it 

 might be the faint patter of a grouse's feet as it hurried 

 for shelter into a thicket, or the self-assertive cry of the 

 mountain titmouse, who irritably protested against this 

 intrusion on his privacy. Or perhaps it was a sound 

 sweeter by far than these, but less easy to recognize. At 

 first faint, distant and interrupted, then gradually nearer 

 and clearer, yet still only a murmur, it comes; from 

 above, before, behind and all around, faintly sweet and 

 musically discordant, always softened by distance, it is 

 like the sound of far-off harps, of sweet bells jangled, of 

 the distant baying of mellow-voiced hounds. Far on 

 high the serene blue is flecked with tiny white moving 

 shapes, which seem like snowflakes drifting lazily across 

 the azure sky; and down to earth, falling, frilling, fall- 

 ing, come the musical cries of the little wavies who are 

 journeying toward the south land. They pass, and 

 slowly the sounds grow faint. 



Oh hark, oh hear! how thin and clear, 

 And thinner, clearer, farther going! 



Oh sweet and far from cliff and scar 

 The horns of Blfland faintly blowing! 



So the men rode on intoxicated with the beauties of 

 their surroundings, and breathing in health and vigor 

 with each inspiration of the warm sweet air. Add to all 

 this that each held between his legs a vigorous active 

 springy horse, and that they had the mild excitement of 

 hurrying along half a dozen animals over the undulating 

 foothills, and you can easily fancy that the Rhymer and 

 Yo enjoyed their ride up the Jake. Now and then, on 

 reaching the summit of some ridge which overlooked the 

 lake, they could see far off under the opposite shore, 

 where it would be sheltered from any breeze that might 

 suddenly spring up, the tiny speck which contained their 

 household goods, but it required sharp eyes to detect it, 

 and only an occasional flash from the oars in the sun as 

 they rose and fell told that it was their craft. 



Merrily the animals trotted along the trail in single 

 file, kept from lagging bv, the lariat which trailed from 

 the saddle hom of one of the riders, and which, when a 

 horse or mule fell behind, had a way of curling round 

 and flying forward and cracking like a whip lash against 

 the flank of the lazy beast with a very enlivening effect. 



At last the Inlet flat was reached. Here the stream 

 which flows down from between Kootenay and Divide 

 Mountains has left its old channel and spread itself out 



over a strip of flat half a mile wide, making a wet, miry 

 piece of ground, disagreeable to cross. This passed, they 

 were soon at the Inlet, which was hardly belly deep, and 

 was easily crossed, and then they turned north, passed 

 Mad Bear Creek, where Appekunny and Bearhead had 

 killed the bear last spring, and in a few moments were in 

 sight of the white tent, which gleamed among the wil- 

 low and alder bushes on the very shores of the lake. 



It was an ideal camp. In front was unlimited water, 

 behind grass for a thousand horses, and at the right wood 

 enough to last half a dozen years. It was picturesque, 

 too. From the water's edge, half a dozen steps from the 

 tent door, the whole expanse of the lower lake was in 

 view, while behind it across the grassy flat, and hardly 

 more than a^ rifle shot distant, rose the steeply sloping 

 foothills, above which towered the bare gray rock walls 

 of Flat Top and Old Singleshot. And then its comfort! 

 On the west— the side from which the winds blow— there 

 was the protection of a considerable body of timber and 

 of the low brush, which effectually broke the force of the 

 wind, so that no matter how hard it might blow, the 

 stability of the tent would not be endangered. 



In due time the boat was unloaded, and the travelers 

 were comfortably housed and felt themselves at home. 



After supper, as they reclined on their blanket3 with 

 their feet stretched out toward the fire, Appekunny told 

 them the story of how the three tribes of the Blackfoot 

 Nation received their names. "I do not vouch for the 

 story," said he. "I heard it years ago from a Blackfoot, 

 and I give it to you as nearly as possible as it was told 

 to me: 



"Many years ago, the people lived across [west of] the 

 mountains and in a hot country far to the southward. 

 A season came when for a long time the game was very 

 scarce, and all the people were hungry. 



"At this time there was in the camp an old man and his 

 family, among whom were three grown up sons. Now 

 the people were hungry, and at last this Old Person 

 said: 



" 'Why should I stay here where there is no game, and 

 where the people are always hungry? I will go with my 

 children and see if we can not find a place where game is 

 plenty, where we can get meat to eat. I will travel until 

 I come to game. I will go beyond the mountains toward 

 the Sun, where no one has ever been, to the land that no 

 man has looked on. It is not likely that the mountain is 

 the end of the world,* and perhaps there may be game 

 there.' 



"So they started, the Old Person and his wife, and the 

 three sons and their wives and children. They did not 

 know the mountains, for they had always avoided these 

 rocky heights, and supposed that all they would have to 

 do would be to go over the nearest peak and down on the 

 other side to the plain. They thought that the mountains, 

 whose sharp rocks reached up to the sky, formed a 

 sinde wall separating the plain where they lived from 

 another plain beyond, but they found that it was not so. 

 Beyond the first mountain rose others and beyond these 

 still others. Day by day as they traveled onward, they 

 climbed the ridges, and saw ever before them other ridges, 

 higher, steeper and more forbidding. The way was 

 rough. Sharp stones cut their feet. Thick timber kept 

 them back. Wide streams and swamps barred their way. 

 There was no game that they could kill, and they became 

 tired, hungry footsore and discouraged. 



"At last they had almost determined to give up their 

 search as hopeless, and to try to return to their own land 

 and people, but as they sat one night by the fire talking 

 it over, that Old Person, the father, said: 



" 'Let us keep on a little longer and try to find that 

 country. The way has been long and hard and we are 

 almost worn out, but let us go a little further. It may be 

 we are almost there. You saw that mountain beyond us, 

 toward which we were traveling to-night. Let us climb 

 over that, and if beyond that we see nothing that looks 

 better, then we will turn about and go back to the place 

 whence we came.' So his sons said it was good, and the 

 next day they traveled onward. 



- "At length they reached the top of the peak, and as they 

 looked down on to the land beyond, they saw before them 

 the prairie, broad and beautiful to these people who were 

 tired of the lonely, rough and dismal mountains. Over 

 the plain were scattered herds of monstrous brown 

 beasts, larger than any that they had ever seen before, 

 with curly hair and short black horns. Many antelope 

 were there and deer in the valleys, and on the ridges of 

 the mountain were plenty of elk. Down on the prairie 

 the streams ran fresh and sparkling and the land was one 

 which it made their hearts glad to look on. 



" 'Ah!' exclaimed that Old Person, 'it is good.' Then 

 he sat down and filled a pipe and smoked to the Sun and 

 said: 'Hear, oh Sun. Now you have taken pity on us. 

 Although we thought we were going to perish miserably 

 among these rocks, you have cared for us and have 

 brought us safely from among them. Now we see our 

 living. H 



"And he prayed for help and for plenty to eat and for 



* Literally the cut hank, the "jumping off place." The Black- 

 feet believe the earth to be flat and circular, and that all around 

 it is a precipice beyond which is space. 



+That is, that whereby we may subsist. 



long life for all his family, and when he had finished his 

 prayer they made a present to the Sun. Then they went 

 slowly down the mountain aide and toward night camped 

 on a creek. 



' 'The next day they hunted, but they could kill no game, 

 for they had ho arrows, since they had used them all up 

 in crossing the mountains, and the great brown beasts 

 (the buffalo) would not let them get near to them. And 

 all the game was wild so that they could not approach 

 close to it, and they were still without meat and hungry. 



"Then that Old Person made some 'medicine.' Very 

 strong it was and black; and he rubbed this on the feet 

 of his eldest son, and after this had been put on his feet 

 the young man became so fleet that he could run right up 

 alongside the fastest buffalo cows and kill them with his 

 great stone knife. This made the young man very proud, 

 and he said to his brothers: 



" 'Now and from this time forth I and my children are 

 STks-uh-kuh (Blackfeet); this shall be our name.' 



"Now the other two sons, when they saw that their 

 older brother could do so much through their father's 

 medicine, while they could do nothing, felt very badly, 

 and they went to their father and said: 



" 'Why is this? What have we done? Why do you 

 treat otu- brother so much better than us? You have made 

 him fleet of foot, so that he can catch the game, while 

 we can kill nothing, and we and our wives and our chil- 

 dren have to eat what he gives us. Come, now, make us 

 swift runners also, so that we too can have enough to 

 eat and can have names.' 



"Then said the Old Person: 



" 'Why do you do nothing except to sit about the fire 

 and eat the meat which your brother has killed? If you 

 wish names, go to war, and when you come back, if you 

 have done well and killed many enemies, and counted 

 coups on them, you too shall have names.' 



"So the two young men went away to the lodge and told 

 their wives to make them several pairs of moccasins and 

 a warsack each, and they made themselves some war 

 arrows and then they started off. 



"Time passed. The Blackfoot killed many buffalo, and 

 the women dried the meat and tanned the robes. The 

 berries became ripe, and the women cut down the sar- 

 vice bushes, and holding the branches over a robe spread 

 upon the ground beat off the fruit and dried it, storing it 

 in parfleches for winter use. Then the tops of the moun- 

 tains became white, and from their narrow valleys Wind- 

 maker sent out fierce blasts, chilled by the breath of the 

 coming winter. The leaves fell. From the north came 

 the wildfowl, the swans, the geese and the ducks, and 

 their multitudes darkened the sky or blackened the sur- 

 face of the prairie lakes, while their hoarse cries resounded 

 night and day through the air. The days became short, 

 the wildfowl went, snow fell and melted and fell again, 

 and bitter winter laid its strong hand upon the land. 



"In the lodge of that Old Person there was plenty, and 

 all were content. 



"By and by came soft winds from the west, and the 

 snow disappeared. A little later the wildfowl began to 

 return. Then the Thunder God cried out, and that Old 

 Person prayed, asking for plenty of rain, so that the ber- 

 ries might grow, and for health and long life to all his 

 people. Then the grass became green and soon it was 

 summer. 



"One night, a year after the young men had gone away, 

 that Old Person and the others were sitting in the lodge, 

 when the dogs barked loudly, and presently the door was 

 lifted and the second son stepped in and sat down by the 

 fire. Thin his robe and worn his moccasins and leggings 

 by long travel, but he was strong, and from his quiver 

 hung a long line of scalps, whose black hair reached nearly 

 to Ms knees. Then the women hurried and brought food, 

 boiled ribs and dried meat and berries and set before him, 

 and they began to sing and to say how brave he was and 

 how far he had traveled to strike his enemies. And 

 after he had eaten his fill, that Old Person filled a pipe 

 and smoked, and passed it to his son and he smoked; and 

 then he spoke and said: 



" 'Father, long the way, and many the streams which I 

 have crossed in my journeyings. Strange the people 

 seen, in numbers like the buffalo which cover the prairie. 

 Many enemies I have struck. These are the scalps of 

 chiefs among the enemies that I have killed. I have 

 brought back no scalp that is not that of a chief,' and he 

 told them all that he had done. Then said that Old 

 Person: 



" 'Since you have killed many chiefs, that shall be your 

 name, Ah-Kinah (many chiefs).' So the second son and 

 his children and their children were c lied Ah-Kinah. 

 But now the word is shortened to Kinah (Blood). 



"Again the season passed round. Again the berries 

 ripened, the leaves fell, the waterfowl came and went, 

 and it was winter. Then the Thunder spoke and soon the 

 grass grew. Much of her husband thought the wife of the 

 third son, fearing that Bhe would never see him again, 

 and that his shadow had gone to the sand hills. Often 

 she spoke of him to her children, telling them how brave 

 he was, and that they ought to be like him. 



' 'One night in summer, when all in the lodge were asleep, 

 again the dogs barked fiercely and the lodge door was 

 lifted and a person entered and sat down by the fire-place, 



