182 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Skpt. 6, 1902. 
Tombs inclosure, only the favored few were admitted to 
the function, and such a coign of vantage as the eighth 
story of a building overlooking the execution would have 
commanded a high premium. Not far from the Tombs is 
a tall shot-tower, which used to be resorted to by the 
newspaper reporters for getting view of the Tombs 
hangings. 
The photograph on another page is of a view from the 
Forest and Stream office in 1897; and it is already of 
antiquarian interest, for it pictures a scene which no 
longer exists. A new City Prison has risen in place of 
a large part of the old Tombs. The low houses in the 
foreground have been followed by a handsome twelve- 
story building, from beneath which, when the founda- 
tions were laid, forty feet below the surface, there was 
excavated a gnarled piece of cedar, which is now treasured 
in the Forest and Stream^s cabinet, as a reminder of the 
green trees that long ago clothed the banks of Collect 
Pond. 
Two English Gentlemen. 
I WOKE Up one morning just a little after day at my 
ranch on Rita Azul, Colorado, 300 miles east of Trinidad, 
just about nowhere. New York was frying meat and 
potatoes and making coffee for breakfast and seemed 
quite cheerful. "The flour is out, Dick." 
"Haven't you any bread for breakfast? Go to one of 
the jacals and get some tortillas for breakfast" — I had 
two Mexican families living on the ranch in jacals. (Pro- 
nounced hackells, Anglice, pole houses.) 
"Neither one has flour, either. They are eating- meat, 
same as we are." 
"I had about 500 pounds of flour in the storeroom two 
weeks ago when I left. What has become of it?" 
"Perley came in from the outside camp and took 200. 
All the Rough and Ready flour we had. I hollered and 
told him to leave us one sack of good flour, and he said 
he wasn't coming in again for two months and that 
he wanted the best, as he didn't have much time to cook. 
That we could go to Trinidad any time and get more. 
[Perley was the man that herded the east side of the 
range, twenty-five miles away.] Each of the home Mexi- 
cans got fifty pounds of XX last week, but got away with 
the last of that somehow, and don't seem to care, so long 
as they have meat and coffee. Miguel came down day 
before yesterday and got a sack for himself and a sack for 
his mother-in-law. He said that Inez wouldn't live with 
him and his wife any long-er. It seems that Inez was 
performing a little religious ceremony, part of which was 
calling up an evil spirit and asking him a few questions. 
Inez is a Navajo Indian squaw sure, and a witch perhaps. 
While she was having a nice time all by herself, her 
daughter had fled to the other Mexican house, not par- 
ticularly because she was afraid, but Inez always makes a 
fearful noise when she has one of these fits. Well, Mig- 
uel came home and told Inez to stop and not monkey with 
the spirits any more in his house. She said she would 
do as she pleased, so he took the hickory cleaning rod out 
of his rifle and licked her till she said she would quit. 
The next day Inez cleaned out her stone hen house and 
moved into it to live alone. Miguel says that the weather 
is not very cold and that the old woman will be glad to 
move back when snow comes. So the flour is all gone." 
- "I'll fix that after breakfast." 
So after a meal of beef and potatoes 1 saddled up and 
went to call on my neighbors. I told Miguel that I - 
v.'anted to take Inez home with me, if he would not be 
offended, for she was old and I didn't care if she kept 
the devil under her bed. He said that it was satisfac- 
tory to him; he hoped the old witch would never come 
back; and so far as I was concerned I was a heretic and 
would go to the- bad place anyhow, but he had to be 
careful of his morals. His wife who, though there were 
scA^ral chairs in the house, was sitting cross-legged like 
a tailor on the floor on a sheepskin smoking a cigarro, told 
him that the first time he had the stomach ache he would 
send her down to beg Inez to come back. He considered 
a moment and said that perhaps he would ; but that he in- 
tended to be very careful of his stomach. 
So I went out and saw Inez in the hen house. I told 
her to pack everything she had on Miguel's jackass 
(which rejoiced in the euphonious name of Diabolo, 
v/hich it richly merited), and come down home with me, 
and to be sure to fetch the flour. 
Within twenty minutes we were going home, with a 
terrible load on the burro and Inez on top of that, look- 
ing very triumphant. As we went past Miguel's house he 
said, "Good bye, mamma," and she snapped her fingers 
at him, which being interpreted in Navajo, means go to 
the infernal regions ; and the procession moved on. Inez 
was shortly installed in a room next to the kitchen and I 
told her that I wanted her to cook, explained my fix about 
flour and told her that I'd have lots in two weeks, and 
that meanwhile we would use hers. 
Then York and I held a council of war and decided to 
get a load of flour out of the face of the country, sO' we 
left Inez at the ranch and went off on a little hunt with 
the wagon. About thirty miles landed us in a veritable 
game pocket ; and four or five days' hard hunting loaded 
us up with something like fourteen or more deer and ante- 
lope. We tried to hunt up a turkey roost, but could not 
find a fresh one that was being used, though I found three 
or four old ones, where the droppings were about two 
weeks old. When we got home to the ranch York shot a 
half-dozen of my black tame turkeys in the head with the 
shotgun, and we killed a two-year-old steer and put the 
hindquarters into the load. Wild turkeys are worth $1.50 
to $2.50, when a tame turkey of the same weight is worth 
so cents to $1. Wat Rifenberg, of the United States 
Hotel, generally took my turkeys, but as he charged me 
$2 a day for board he never got the worst of it very much. 
I never paid him a cent in my life, and he never did me. 
He was a pretty goo4 felJoyv and knew how to keep ^ 
We went to Trinidad the next day and got in about 
dark. I gave Rif the first crack at the load. A deer and 
an antelope, a hindquarter of beef and all the turkeys but 
two — one for Dr. Beshoar, who was, and I hope is still, a 
friend of mine ; the other for Web Brown, the loony man 
that I always stopped with. We got about $50 out of the 
rest of the load. 
That evening when I went into supper I could smell my 
old pipe in my coat pocket, so I left it behind the bar in 
the saloon room attached to the hotel. The pipe had a 
little history. The winter before I had been living alone 
in a little cabin herding the east side of the Trinchara 
range for a few weeks, while Perley was taking a kind of 
a vacation in town. I lost my pipe and made a pipe bowl 
out of clay and shaped it up and ornamented it a little 
with a knife before I burned it. It was as big as your 
fist, but I got quite a successful bake on it. I made a 
stem out of elder wood and a mouthpiece from a calling 
bone from a turkey's wing. A few brass tacks in the stem 
and a red rag twisted round it made it look sweet, and I 
used to smoke it with great satisfaction, though it was 
very heavy. When I came out from supper I went to 
the bar to get a cigar and noticed a big red-faced man in 
checked clothes which didn't fit him, and a kind of an 
English expression, handling my pipe and looking at it 
with great interest. 
"When you are through looking at that pipe, let me 
have it; it's mine." 
"Hi declare, hit's rawther curious. Is it yours? Where 
did you get it?" 
Here the evil spirit entered into me, and I lied basely. 
"It is a Comanche Indian pipe." 
"How did you get it?" 
"Killed the Injun." 
"Ah, hindeed. Will you sell it?" 
Yes, I would sell it for $2. He gave me the money 
quickly and put the pipe in his pocket. I asked him to 
take a drink, and was thinking how I could spend the 
rest of the money on him, for I couldn't tell him I had 
lied, and T didn't want to keep the two dollars. We 
drank, and he asked me if I had any other trophies. Then 
I remembered something. "I have a man here with me 
named New York, who has something you might like. 
He has a buckskin shirt trimmed with an Indian scalp. 
He killed the Indian, took the scalp and made the shirt 
and cut the scalp in two parts and sewed them on the 
shoulders. A IVIexican woman that likes him embroidered 
the shirt with silk, put on flowers and a horse with a man 
on him. He has the shirt here in town in his trunk. He 
never wore it but once in town, and then he had a crowd 
around him in no time, and had to take it off and put it 
away." 
"I would like to sfeef it," said the Englishman. 
So I went out and found York, and got him to put the 
shirt on. When the stranger saw it he fell violently in 
love with it, and aslced:Y.ork how much he asked for it. 
York told him that he had no use for rnoney, but that he 
would like a certain pony that a Texas man was holding 
for sale at Webb Brown's stable. 
"How much does he want for the horse?" 
"Don't know," said York. "If you want to trade we 
will see in the morning." 
The Englishman paid $55 for the pony" the next morn- 
ing; and I went to him and after making him promise to 
keep the peace, I confessed about the pipe, and he laughed 
and said that it had fooled him, and that he would give it 
to his brother-in-law to put in his collection, and would 
enjoy hearing him talk about it. ' 
So York and I went back to the ranch, and I liever 
saw that Anglo Saxon any more. 
I intended to tell of two gentlemen, but it is very hot 
and I will keep the other man' till it is cool. Hasta 
manana. , ■ W. J. Dixon. 
Sai-pi and Pe-tah-ky. 
BY J, W. SCHULTZ. 
You ask how the polygamous Indian family got along? 
said the Old Timer. Whether the women quarreled 
or lived together in harmony? WeU, their lord and 
master ruled them with an iron hand, and outwardly 
they seemed to be happy and contented. But under the 
surface there was generally heart burning, and jealousy, 
and hate, which often cropped out in the absence of the 
head of the household, and then bitter things were said, 
and sometimes the row would end in a general fight. 
There was, after all, a god reason for the practice of 
polygamy among the Indians. The different tribes were 
always at war with each other, and the annual loss of 
men in battle, and also by the accidents of the chase, 
was very great; so there were always more than twice 
as many women as there were men. The surplus women 
had to be cared for, the very existence of the tribe de- 
pended on their fulfifling the obligation of their sex, 
and, of course, plural wives was the result, the families 
ranging from two to three, up to as many as twenty 
women. 
In the tribe with which I am most familiar, the Black- 
feet, if a man married a woman who had sisters younger 
than she, those sisters became his potential wives. If 
he did not choose to marry them he had the disposal 
of them. But usually the man married them all as fast 
as they grew to maturity. It was thought that a group 
of sister wives got along more amicably together than 
did a family of unrelated women. 
In the polygamous lodge each woman had her par- 
ticular place; the first wife sat at her husband's left and 
owned that couch in common with him. It was always 
at the back of the lodge, directly opposite the doorway. 
From it, on either hand, the couches of the other wives, 
in the order in which they were married, ranged around 
the sides toward the door, so that the most recently 
married had their places near the entrance. Each 
woman had her own little property, such as clothing, 
finery, robes, tanning tools and so on. Not even the 
food, the meat killed by the head of the family, was held 
in common; each woman was given her share, and dried 
it, or made it into pemmican, as she chose. Each one, 
however, furnished her share for the husband's suste- 
nance, and they all vied with each other to furnish him 
the choicest portions. The husband, of course, claimed 
the buffalo rol^es and other skins they tanned and pre« 
pared for him, giving each wife what he chose from the 
sale of those she had tanned. 
Years ago when I was in the employ of the American 
Fur Company, I was sent one winter to live with the 
Blackfeet, who were camping and hunting around the 
Sweet Grass Hills, and trade them the ammunition they 
needed. The company realized that the more powder and 
ball they had the greater would be their output of robes 
and furs. I made my headquarters in the lodge of Lone 
Bull, an old and tried friend, a fine looking, good-na- 
tured fellow and very wealthy; that is, rich as riches are 
reckoned by Indians; he had more than two hundred 
horses, mostly of the highly prized pinto color. 
Strangely enough, he had but one wife, whereas, had 
he cared to he could have had a dozen or more. Not 
a father or mother m the whole tribe with marriageable 
daughters on hand but wanted him for a son-in-law, and 
many a widow would have been glad of a place in his 
lodge. But Lone Bull did not seem to care for any of 
them. He was very reserved and proud, yet anyone 
could see that Pe-tah-ky, his wife, was all in all to him, 
his dearest and most cherished possession. Pe-tah-ky 
was a fine looking woman, comely featured, well built, 
with small hands and feet, and her luxuriant hair, gath- 
ered into two massive braids, hung down to the lower 
edge of her dress. She was always neatly and cleanly 
clothed, and everything about her lodge was kept spick 
and span and in order. She made no secret of her affec- 
tion for her husband. Evenings, when work was dor' 
and we sat gossiping around the cheerful fire in th' 
lodge, I have seen her gaze at him for hours with sucl 
an adoring, loving expression in her eyes as few hus- 
. bands, I imagine, are ever permitted to see in the eyes 
of their wives. Beside them and myself, there were two 
other occupants of the lodge; Lone Bull's mother, el 
quiet, hard-working old woman, and New Shield, hiii' 
brother, just growing into manhood, and a noted buf- 
falo hunter. He kept the lodge supplied with more 
robes that tha women could tan; with more choice 
meats than we could use. 
At an early age every Blackfoot youth forms a sort 
of partnership with some other youth whom he calls his 
tuk-ka, or friend. The word really means more than 
that, but it has no English equivalent. This friendship 
is like that of David and Jonathan, as will be seen. Lone 
Bull's tuk-ka was Heavy Gun, also a well-to-do, fearless, 
proud warrior. The two always hunted together, went 
to war together, and even when in camp passed the 
greater part of the_ time in one or the other of their 
lodges. They were almost inseparable. Like his friend. 
Heavy Gun had but one wife. 
One morning when we arose we found that a Chinook 
wind had vanquished the bitter cold of the previous day. 
The lately fallen snow had disappeared, leaving the plains 
brown and bare once more, and although 'twas in Jan- 
uary, it seemed like a spring day, the air was so soft 
and warm. An immense herd of buffalo had been sighted 
the evening before not far to the southward, and the 
• weatlier was so fine that I determined to join in the 
grand chase about to take place. We started. Lone Bull. 
Heavy Gun and myself riding apart from and on the 
left of the great crowd of hunters hurrying out from the 
camp. Everyone rode bare back and was stripped down 
to the least possible weight. Some carried guns — this 
was in the days of the muzzleloader — but the majority 
were armed simply with bow and arrows. The latter 
weapon was the most effective at close range, for a half 
dozen arrows could be shot into the vital parts ol as 
many buffalo while a fuke was being reloaded and primed. 
Everyone, of course, was in high spirts, anticipating the 
excitement of the chase and the success sure to follow; 
the Indian is never so happy as when his camp is red 
with great sheets of fat, drying meat. 
After half an hour's ride we sighted the buffalo. There 
might have been five thousand of them, perhaps twice 
that number. They were not, of course, bunched up 
in one solid herd, as many persons believe -was their 
habit, but were scattered out singly, in little groups, and 
bands of two or three hundred, to the southeast and 
west as far as the great sere grass plain was visible. 
The scouts who had gone on ahead had halted us near 
the crest of a low ridge, from which, cautiously peering 
over, we had witnessed this grand sight. From the 
foot of the ridge there was a perfectly level flat a mile or 
more in width, to where the nearest of the buffalo were 
feeding, and it was evident that the minute we showed 
ourselves and began descending the ridge the animals 
would see us and run, and have such a start that our 
horses would be well blown before we could overtake 
them, I was wondering if my horse could stand the 
strain, when the great body of hunters on our right be- 
gan to dismount. "Some one is going to decoy the 
herd," said Lone Bull, "let us also get down and give 
our horses all the rest we can." 
We did so, and there ensued one of the most in- 
teresting sights I ever witnessed on these plains. Rid- 
ing a small brown horse, lying flat on its back and cov- 
ered with a buffalo robe, an Indian slowly descended 
the ridge and started out over the flat, not directly 
toward the buffalo, but zigzagging now to the right, 
now to the left, and in this way going ever nearer 
and nearer to them. The feeding animals paid no at- 
tention to him until, having arrived within a few hun- 
dred yards of them he began to bawl like one of their 
calves m distress. Then those nearest him stopped feed- 
ing, and after gazing curiously for a few seconds, began 
to walk toward him. Lie slowly retreated, bawling more 
plaintively than ever, and the buffalo soon broke into a 
trot, and then into a run in their haste to overtake what 
they thought was one of their calves in distress. More 
and more of them now began to join in the chase, until 
hundreds and hundreds were hurrying from all quarters 
to the scene. In a short time the decoy was riding for 
his life in front of the great and now compact herd, on 
and on, ever faster across the flat. There his work 
ended, for we had all mounted, and with one accord 
charged down the ridge into the dark brown mass of 
gleaming-eyed, shaggy-haired, sharp-horned animals. 
How they did scatter, and titrn, and switch their short 
tails as the guns began to boom and the arrows to 
pierce their sides. We three swung into the rear of a 
couple of hundred head which had branched off from 
the main herd, ^pd w^ had just got in among them an4 
