Blackfeet Tales of Glacier National Park

by James Willard Schultz

“New Robe considered the matter. If he won out, what honor, what a coup it would be to return to his people with the weapons and the war horse of his enemy. If he lost, if he was killed—a sudden doubt struck him, and he asked: ‘If I fall, what will become of the boy?’

“‘We promise you now,’ the chiefs both answered, ‘that in that case some of us will take the boy to within sight of the camp of your people, and send him safely to it.’

“‘I take your word for that, and now give me weapons,’ said New Robe.

“He was offered his choice of many bows and spears, war clubs and knives, but took only a short, lithe bow and a handful of well-feathered arrows. Then, standing within the circle of the lodges, he awaited the coming of the old chief. He soon appeared, wearing a beautiful war costume and riding a sorrel pinto war horse. And now, dressed as he was, and easily controlling his fiery-tempered mount, he did not seem to be so very old; at a distance one would have thought him a young warrior. His weapon in hand was a long, scalp-tufted spear. On his back he carried a bow and otter-skin quiver of arrows, and in his belt, in a handsome sheath, quill-embroidered, was his knife. Said New Robe to himself: ‘He looks strong, he is brave. Well, I too must be brave, and watchful.’

“Forth and back across the other side of the big circle rode the old man, singing a war song, brandishing his spear, keeping his prancing war horse well in hand. And then, suddenly urging him forward, he came swift as the wind at New Robe. And he, dropping his tattered wrap, awaited his coming with ready bow. On he came, shouting his war cry, and when quite close New Robe let fly his long and heavy-shafted arrow. It struck the old warrior fair in the ribs. He flinched, the mounting blood choked off his war cry, but on he came, and with a last great effort hurled his spear, and fell from his horse and died,—died without knowing that the weapon had passed high over New Robe’s head!

“And then what a shout went up from all the people! Shouts of honor for the old chief who had preferred death in battle instead of in his lodge, and shouts too for the young man who had so bravely faced him. New Robe knew not what to do. He stood looking this way, that way, uncertainly. Then came to him the son of the old dead chief and signed to him to take the horse and the weapons of his enemy, and he did so. Then the young man brought to him another horse, a big and gentle black: ‘I said that I would give you something,’ he signed, ‘and here it is. The boy can ride it home. You may go now, both of you, and go without fear of pursuit: not a man in this camp shall follow you!’ And without wasting any time the two mounted the horses and rode northward away from the camp.

“In the Blackfeet camp Lone Star’s father and mother grieved more and more for the loss of him, but his sister, Red Cloud Woman, would not believe that he was dead; had somehow faith that he was alive; that New Robe would find him, and bring him safely home. And at last, when she saw that her father and mother were likely to go mad from grief, she told them that New Robe had gone in search of the boy, and that she would marry him, even if he returned alone. Morning after morning she went up on a butte close to camp and watched the great plain stretching away to the south, and all day long, and often on her couch at night, prayed for the safe return of brother and lover.

“And then, at last, after many, many days of worried watching, she saw two riders coming from the south across the plain, and, sure that they were those she had been praying for, ran to meet them. They were the missing ones. They sprang from their fine horses, and she kissed first her brother and then clung to New Robe: ‘I am right now your woman,’ she cried, and kissed him again. ‘And I am proud to be your woman,’ she went on, ‘so take me up behind you and we will all ride home!’

“She got up behind him on his prancing war horse, and as they rode in he quickly told her of his adventures, and how, at last, he had fought and killed the old war chief, and for that had been given the two horses and all the weapons and fine war clothes she saw. So it was that, coming into camp, she had the tale of his brave deeds to shout to the people, and they, gathering close around, honored his name and gave him a chief’s greeting. Yes, the poor orphan had within the length of one moon become a chief, and had made a mourning father and mother happy. That very night he and Red Cloud Woman were given a lodge of their own, and their happiness was complete.”