Chapter VI
The Story of the Crow Woman
IS-SP-ÄH'-KI—Crow Woman—as the Blackfeet named her, was an Arickaree, of a tribe which, in the days of Catlin, who visited the tribes in 1832, lived some distance below the Mandans, on the banks of the Missouri. Like the Mandans, they lived in a village of moundlike earth-covered lodges, surrounded by a strong and high palisade of cottonwood logs stuck endwise into the ground. They were members of the widely scattered Pawnee, or Caddoan family, but they had been long separated from the parent stock. They could converse with the Crows, who are related to the Gros Ventres of the village. Their own language—like the Mandan—was an extremely difficult one for an outlander to learn. The Crows and Arickarees were at times on terns of friendship, and again there were long periods when they were at war with each other.
The Crow Woman married early. She must have been a very handsome girl, for even in her old age, when I knew her, although wrinkled and gray-haired, she was still good-looking. She had lovely eyes, sparkling and mischievous, and her temperament was a most happy one. After many and bitter experiences she had at last found, with her good friend Mrs. Berry, a haven of peace and plenty which was assured to her so long as she lived. This is the story she told me as we sat before the fireplace, that winter night so many years ago:
"We were very happy, my young husband and I, for we truly loved each other. He was a good hunter, always keeping our lodge well supplied with meat and skins, and I, too, worked hard in the summer planting, and watering as they grew, a nice patch of beans and corn and pumpkins; in the winter I tanned many robes and many buckskins for our use, We had been married two winters; summer came, and for some reason the buffalo left the river, all except a few old bulls, and remained away out on the plains. My people did not like to hunt out there, for we were only a small tribe; our men were brave, but what could a few of them do against a great band of our many enemies? So some were content to remain safely at home and eat the tough meat of the straggling bulls; but others, more brave, made up a party to go out where the great herds were. My husband and I went with them; he did not want me to go, but I insisted upon it. Since we had been married we had not been separated even for one night; where he went I had sworn to go also. Our party traveled southward all day over the green-grassed plain; along toward evening we saw many bands of buffalo, so many that the country was dark with them; we rode down into a little valley, and made camp by a stream bordered by cottonwoods and willows.
"Our horses were not very strong, for always at night they were driven inside the stockade of our village, and, feeding daily over the same ground outside, they soon tramped and ate off the grass; they had no chance to become fat. Some enemy or other was always prowling around our village at night, and we could not let them remain outside and wander to where the feed was good.
"From our camp by the creek we started out every morning, the women following the men, who carefully looked over the country and then went after that band of buffalo which could be most surely approached. Then, when they bad made the run, we rode out to where the great animals lay and helped skin and cut up the meat. When we got back to camp we were busy until evening cutting the meat into thin sheets and hanging it up to dry in the wind and the sun. Thus for three mornings we went out, and our camp began to look red; you could see the red from afar, the red meat drying. We were very happy.
"I was proud of my husband. He was always in the lead; the first to reach the buffalo, the last one to quit the chase, and he killed more of them—always fine fat animals—than any other one of the party And he was so generous; did anyone fail to make a kill he would call to him and give him one, sometimes two, of his own kill.
"On the fourth morning we went out soon after sunrise, and only a little way from camp the men made a run and killed many buffalo. My husband shot down nine. We were all hard at work skinning them and getting the meat in shape to pack home, when we saw those who were at the far end of the running ground hurriedly mount their horses and ride swiftly toward us with cries of 'The enemy! the enemy!' Then we also saw them, many men on swift horses riding down upon us, their long war bonnets fluttering in the wind; and they were singing the war song; it sounded terrible in our ears. They were so many, our men so few, there was no use in tong to make a stand against them. We all mounted our horses, our leader shouting: 'Ride for the timber at the camp; it is our only chance. Take courage; ride, ride fast.'
"I whipped my horse as hard as I could and pounded his sides with my heels; my husband rode close beside me also whipping him, but the poor thing could go only so fast, the enemy were getting nearer and nearer all the time. And then, suddenly, my husband gave a little cry of pain, threw up his hands, and tumbled off onto the ground, When I saw that I stopped my horse, got down, and ran to him and lifted his head and shoulders into my lap. He was dying; blood was running from his mouth in a stream; yet he made out to say: 'Take my horse; go quick; you can outride them.'
"I would not do that. If he died I wanted to die also; the enemy could kill me there beside him. I heard the thunder of their horses' feet as they came on, and covering my head with my robe I bent over my husband, who was now dead. I expected to be shot or struck with a war club, and I was glad for whither my dear one's shadow went, there I would follow. But no; they passed swiftly by us and I could hear shots and cries and the singing of the war song as they rode on into the distance. Then in a little while I heard again the trampling of a horse, and looking up I saw a tall man, a man full of years, looking down at me. 'Ah,' he said, 'I made a good shot; it was a long way, but my gun held straight.'
"He was a Crow, and I could talk with him. 'Yes, you have killed my poor husband; now have pity and kill me, too.'
"He laughed. 'What?' he said, 'kill such a pretty young woman as you? Oh, no. I will take you home with me and you shall be my wife.'
"'I will not be your wife. I will kill myself,' I began, but he stopped me. 'You will go with me and do as I say,' he continued, 'but first I must take the scalp of this, my enemy.'
"'Oh, no,' I cried, springing up as he dismounted. 'Oh, do not scalp him. Let me bury him, and I will do anything you say. I will work for you, I will be your slave, only let me bury this poor body where the wolves and the birds cannot touch it.'
"He laughed again, and got up into the saddle. I take your word,' he said. 'I go to catch a horse for you and then you can take the body down to the timber by your carop.'
"And so it was done. I wrapped my dear one in robes and lashed the body on a platform which I built in a tree by the little stream, and I was very sad. It was a long, long time, many winters, before I took courage and found life worth living.
"The man who had captured me was a chief, owning a great herd of horses, a fine lodge, many rich things; and he had six wives. These women stared very hard at me when we came to the camp, and the head wife pointed to a place beside the doorway and said: 'Put your robe and things there.' She did not smile, nor did any of the others; they all looked very cross, and they never became friendly to me. I was given all of the hardest work; worst of all, they made me chip hides for them, and they would tan them into robes; every day this was my work when I was not gathering wood or bringing water to the lodge. One day the chief asked me whose robe it was I was chipping, and I told him. The next day, and the next, he asked me the same question, and I told him that this hide belonged to one of his wives, that to another, and so on. Then he became angry, and scolded his wives. 'You will give her no more of your work to do,' he said. 'Chip your own hides, gather your share of wood; mind what I say, for I shall not tell you this again.'
"This Crow chief was a kind man, and very good to me; but I could not like him. I turned cold at his touch. How could I like him when I was always mourning so for the one who was gone?
"We traveled about a great deal. The Crows owned so many horses that after camp was all packed and lodge poles trailed, hundreds and hundreds of fat, strong animals were left without a burden of any kind. Once there was talk of making peace with my people, and I was very glad, for I longed to be with them again, A council was held, and it was decided to send two young men with tobacco to the chief of the Arickaree and ask that peace be declared. The messengers went, but they never returned. After waiting three moons (months) for them, it was thought that they had been killed by those whom they went to visit. Then we left the Elk River (Yellowstone) and moved to the upper part of Dried Meat River (Musselshell). This was the fifth summer after my capture. It was berry time and the bushes were loaded with ripe fruit, which we women gathered in large quantities and dried for winter use. We went out one day to some thickets on the north slope of the valley, some distance from camp, where there were more berries than at any other place we bad found. There had been trouble in our lodge that morning; while my captor-I never could call him my husband-was eating, he asked to see the amount of berries we bad gathered; his wives brought out their stores, the bead woman five sacks of them, the others two and three each. I had but one sack, and another partly full, to show. 'How is this?' the chief asked. 'Has my little Arickaree wife become lazy?'
"'I am not lazy,' I answered, angrily. 'I have picked a great quantity of berries; and every evening I have spread them out to dry, covering them well after sunset so that the night dew would not injure them, but in the morning, when I have removed the covers and exposed them to the sun's heat, I have found many, very many less than I had placed there. This has happened every night since we came to camp here.'
"'That is strange,' be said. 'Who could have taken them? Do you women know anything about it?' he asked his wives.
"They said that they did not.
"'You lie,' he cried, angrily, rising from his seat and pushing his head wife back out of his way. 'Here, little woman, are your berries; I saw them stealing them'; and from the head wife he took two sacks, from the others one each, and threw them over to me.
"Oh, those women were angry, They did not speak to me all that morning, but if looks could have killed me, then I would have died, for they scowled at me all the time. When the chief drove in the horses each caught the one she wanted and rode out to the berry patch.
"The five kept close together that day, leaving me to go by myself, and if I went near them they would move away to some distant bushes. Sometime after midday they began to move toward me, and in a little time they were at work all around close by. Still they did not speak, nor did I. My little sack was again full; I stooped over to empty the berries into a larger sack; something struck me a terrible blow on the head; I knew no more.
"When I came back to life the sun was setting. I was alone, my horse was gone, and my large berry sack was missing; the small one, empty, lay by my side. I was very dizzy, very sick. I felt of my head; there was a great swelling on it, and much dried blood in my hair. I sat up to better look around and heard someone calling me, the tramp of a horse, and then the chief rode up beside me and dismounted. He didn't say anything at first, just felt of my head carefully, and of my arm, and then: 'They said that they could not find you when they were,: ready to return to camp; that you had run away. I knew better. I knew that I would find you here, but I thought to find you dead.'
"'I wish I were,' I said, and then for the first time I cried. Oh, how lonely I felt. The chief lifted me up into his saddle and got on the horse behind me, and we rode home to the lodge. When we went inside the wives just glanced at me quickly, and then looked away. I was about to lie down on my couch by the doorway when the chief said: 'Come here, here by my side is now your place. And you,' to his head wife, giving her a hard push, 'you will take her couch by the doorway.'
"That was all. He never accused his wives of attempting to kill me but from that time he treated them coldly, never jesting nor laughing with them as be had been used to doing. And whenever he left camp to hunt, or to look for stray horses from his herd, I had to accompany him. He would never leave me alone for a day with the others. Thus it came about that when he prepared to go with some of his friends on a raid against the northern tribes I was told to get ready also. It did not take me long; I packed my awl, needles, and sinew thread in a little pouch, made some pemmican and was ready,
'"We were a small party, fifteen men, and one. other woman, newly married to a great war leader. It was not proposed to make any attack upon our enemy, but to travel cautiously through the country and raid the herds of the first camp we found. We went on foot, traveling by night and sleeping during a part of the long, hot days. After many nights we arrived at the Big River (Missouri) above the falls, right opposite where the Point-of-Rocks River (Sun River) joins it. Daylight had come; looking up the valley of the little river we could see the lodges of a great camp, and band after band of horses striking out into the hills to graze. Near us was a coulee where grew thick clumps of willows. We hurried to hide in them before we should be seen by any early risers of the strange camp.
"The men held a long talk, planning just what to do. They finally decided that it would be best for us to all cross the river and then, after taking some of the best horses in the camp, strike out eastward instead of recrossing right there. By going east for some distance before crossing back, it was thought that the enemy, should they follow us, would think us Crees or Assiniboins. On some high, dry, wellgrassed place we were to turn and head for home. There the enemy would lose our trail, and keep on in the direction we had been traveling, while we could go homeward by easy rides, without fear of being overtaken.
"Soon after nightfall we crossed the river, going up the shore until we found a couple of big logs left by the high water. The men rolled them into the stream, lashed them together, placed their weapons and clothes and us two women on the raft and then, hanging on with one hand, and paddling with the other and kicking hard, they soon got it safely across. As soon as we were landed they took off the lashings, pushed the logs out into the current, and carefully washed out our footprints on the muddy shore. We had landed just below the mouth of Point-of-Rocks River, at the edge of a choke-cherry thicket, and there we two women were told to remain until the men returned. Each of them was to enter the camp for himself, cut loose such horses as he could, and all were to meet as soon as possible at the thicket there. They started off right away, and we two sat down to await their return. We talked a liffle while and then fell asleep, for we were both very tired from our long journey, and at no time had we slept as long as we wished to. After a time I was awakened by the howling of some wolves nearby; I looked up at the Seven Persons (the Great Dipper) and saw by their position that it was past the middle of the night. I aroused my companion and we talked again for a time, wondering why none of the men had returned, saying that perhaps there was some late dancing, or gambling, or feasting in the strange camp, and that they were waiting until all should be quiet before entering it. Then we slept again.
"The sun was shining when we awoke, and we sprang up and looked about us; none of our party had returned; we became frightened. We went to the edge of the brush and looked out; away up the valley we could see the horse herds again, and riders here and there traveling on the hills. I felt certain that the men had been discovered and killed, or had been chased so hard that they could not return to us. So, also, thought my companion, We believed that as soon as night fell again some of them would come for us. There was nothing for us to do but remain where we were. It was a long, long day. We had no food, but that did not matter. My companion was terribly worried. 'Perhaps my husband has been killed,' she kept saying. 'Oh, if he has, what shall I do?'
"'I know how you feel,' I said, 'I, too, once had a dear husband and I lost him.'
"'But don't you love your Crow husband?' she asked.
"'He is not my husband,' I replied. 'I am his slave.'
"We went to the river, washed ourselves, and then returned to the edge of the brush, where we could look out, and sat down. My companion began to cry. 'Oh,' she said, 'if they do not return here, if they have been killed, what shall we do?'
"I had already thought of that, and I told her that far to the east on the banks of the Big River my people lived, and I would follow it until I found them. There were plenty of berries; I could snare the brush rabbits; I had flint and steel and could make a fire. I was sure I could make the long journey unless some accident happened. But I was not to attempt it. Sometime after middle day we saw two riders coming along down the edge of Point-of-Rocks River, stopping here and there to get off their horses and look at the shore; they were trapping beaver. We crawled back into the center of the brush and lay down, terribly scared, scarcely daring to breathe. The thicket was all crisscrossed by wide buffalo trails, there was no good place to hide; if the trappers should enter it? They did, and they found us; and one seized me and the other took my companion. They made us get up on their horses and brought us to their lodges. All the people crowded around to look at us. This was not new to me, and I just looked back at them, but my friend covered her head with her robe and wept loudly.
"This was the Blood tribe of the Blackfeet. I could not understand their language, but I could hand talk (the sign language). The man who had captured me began to ask questions. Who was I, where was I from, what was I doing down there in the brush? I told him. Then he told me that his people had surprised a war party sneaking into camp in the night, had killed four of them, and pursued the others to the breaks of the river below, where they managed to get away in the deep, dark cut coulées.
"'Was one of those you killed,' I asked, a tall man who wore a real bear's (grizzly) claw necklace?'
"He made the sign for yes,
"Then my Crow chief was dead! I cannot tell you just how I felt. He bad been good to me, very kind. But he, or those with him, had killed my young husband; that I could not forget. I thought of his five wives; they would not miss him, all the great horse herd would be theirs; they would be glad when I, too, did not return.
"You have seen Deaf Man, the Blood who was here talking with me today. I lived in his lodge many years, and he and his wives were very kind to me. After a time I could think of my own people without crying, and made up my mind that I would never see them again. I was no longer called a slave, and made to do the work of others. Deaf Man would say that I was his youngest wife, and we would joke about the time he captured me. I was his wife and happy.
"So the winters went and we grew old, and then one summer when we were trading in Fort Benton, whom should I meet but my good friend here, who had come up on a fire-boat (steamer) to join her son. That was a happy day, for we had played together when we were children. She went at once to Deaf Man and pleaded with him to let me live with her, and he consented. And here I am, happy and contented in my old age. Deaf Man comes often to talk with us and smoke his pipe. We were glad of his visit today, and when he went home he carried much tobacco, and a new blanket for his old wife.
"There, I have told you a long story, my son, and night fell long, long since. Go to bed, for you must be up early for your hunt tomorrow. The Crow Woman will awake you. Yes, these Blackfeet gave me that name. I hated it once, but have got used to it. We get used to anything in time."
"But wait," I said. "you did not tell me all. What became of the others of your party when you were attacked by the Crows?"
"I did not mention that," she replied, "for even to this day I do not like to think nor speak about it. There were many, many bodies scattered along the way of flight, scalped, naked, bloody, and dreadfully hacked up. Few escaped."