But, sepulchral as the Blackfeet tragedy may appear, it has its counterpart on practically every reservation in the United States. Refer to the speeches of Hon. Clyde M. Kelly, House of Representatives, Sixty-seventh Congress First-Fourth Sessions, 1921–22. See Bureau airings by Mr. John Collier, in Sunset series, 1923; and other contemporary writers—various publications—for unearthing of the departmental plot to dispossess the Pueblos of their ancient landed holdings and their very homes. The “Fall-Burke & Bursum” regime will go down in history as one of the blackest pages in the murky annals of the Indian Bureau “system.” ↩
Chief Joseph was averse to talking of his misfortune in war and his Own Story published first in the North American Review, 1879, was practically the only interview that he ever granted. Throughout this meager narrative there is a modest dearth of self erudition; and his surviving warriors have assured me that their Chief had an antipathy for discussing with the white man his personal history, or that of his followers in the field. Keenly alive to the bitter wrongs which he had suffered, he brooded in melancholy, dying an exile; to the last bemoaning his lost Wallowa. The personal narratives of a few of his surviving warriors now in preparation for publication, attest the shame of the Government’s policy which drove its former steadfast friends to the warpath. ↩
The story of the landless Indians of California is well known, and has had recent airings through various press channels. The Oklahoma scandals are open history, while the White Earth robbery—oozing with the slime of official connivance—stands naked through the fearless exposure by Prof. Warren K. Moorehead, a then newly appointed member of the Board of Indian Commissioners. Ignorant of the mundane functioning of this august body, the Professor was duly disciplined as to his duty and part in the Bureau “machine.” An avowed and scrupulous friend of the tribesmen, he has ever been a minority in subsequent proceedings. For contemporaneous treatment of “wards” on the Yakima Reservation, see The Crime Against the Yakimas; The Continued Crime Against.—and The Discards; by the writer of this note. ↩
See note 1 for reference to unpublished legends mentioned in this volume. ↩
The Thunderbird figures in the philosophy of all the Columbia River tribes. Refer to note 1. ↩
Not at all an improbable story. Such cavities are often met with in the loose desert soil; usually formed by the caving of the earth where two or more burrows are in close proximity or actually joined. ↩
Okanogan for war paint. Used not only for personal decoration, but in inscribing history and symbolic signs on teepees, implements of war, and other objects of certain character. ↩
Okanogan for ladle or spoon; usually made of wood or horn. ↩
The te-kee-sten or “medicine-cane,” along with the war pipe—and perhaps the peace pipe—were sacred and not to be touched by woman. To do so was to destroy their magic and bring possible disaster to the individual owner or tribe, as the case might be. There were, however, exceptions to this rule. (See note 8.) Green-blanket Feet actually desecrated the objects as depicted in the text. In breathing through the pipe, she invoked evil spirits and defeat upon the hereditary enemies of her own tribe. Casting the “medicine” cane of the Chief to the ground and using his war paint on her own person, was to humiliate and disgrace him in the eyes of his own people. Had she been captured, death, if not torture, would have been her portion.
The private “medicine” is invariably buried with the Indian’s body. In December, 1915, I saw two păh’-tash or “medicine” canes interred with the body of We-yallup Wa-ya-cika—noted Chief and medicine man of the Yakimas. One was made from the slender sprout of the hard wood, lo-tsa-ni, whereon a grotesque and twisted growth of the larger end had been cunningly carved into a clever representation of an antlered deer. Barring three brass-headed nails used in delineation of the muzzle and front feet of the animal, the păh’-tash was without superficial ornamentation. The other stick was a light penant staff with a crooked handhold; such as is used by school and class-fraternities. It still retained some of the gaudy paper covering, and aside from the solitary eagle feather and a bit of white ermine skin with which it was surmounted, it was wholly of white man origin. ↩
As a food commodity, the salmon was, to the Salishan and Shahaptian linguistic families of the great Columbia River basin what the buffalo was to the Siouan or plain Indians. Both enter largely into the legends and religious cult of the respective tribes. ↩
Four-point: referring to the short stripes, or bars woven into the corner of the blanket, designated as “points.” The highest number is five, which, perhaps owing to its conjunction with the “Five Rules of Speel-yi,” is greatly prized. The “points,” however, pertain solely to the dimensions or weight of the blanket, the lowest being three, while
