War Memories
Mountain Chief's Boyhood Sports
“I remember when I was a boy how we used to trap foxes. We all got together and took our sisters along, took the axe, went into the woods and cut willows, tied them up in bundles, and put them on our backs, our sisters doing the same thing. We would go to the east of the camp, where the smoke and all of the scent would go, find a snowdrift in the coulee and unload [pg 116] our packs. The first thing we did was to stamp on the snow—to see if it was solid. We would drive four sticks into the snow, and while driving in the sticks we would sing: ‘I want to catch the leader.’ The song is a fox song to bring good luck. As far as I can remember I got this story from my grandfather. There was an old man in the camp who went to the mountains, and stayed there for four days without anything to eat in order that he might get his dream. A fox came to him and told him: ‘This is one way you can kill us,’ and this is why we put in this song while we were making the deadfall. After we got through fixing up our deadfall we returned home, a boy in the lead, then a girl, then a boy, then a girl, and while we were returning to the camp we sang the fox song, putting in these words: ‘I want to kill the leader.’ Then we fell down, imitating the fox in the trap. When we got back to camp we took buffalo meat, covering it with fat and roasted it a while so that the fox would get the scent. Then we took the bait and put it on a stick and put it over our left arm, and then the boys and girls all went back again, singing as we went; ‘We hope to have good luck.’ This song was a good-luck song. After we put the bait in the trap we all went home silently, not saying a word. But before we went to bed my mother said to me: ‘I am going to get a piece of dried beef without any fat, and you take it over to the old [pg 117] man who always has good luck in trapping foxes, and he will pray for you that you may have good luck.’ When the dried meat was done, I took it over to the old man, gave it to him, and asked him to pray for me that I might have good luck. The old fellow would then start to say his prayers for me. The old man to whom he prayed was the old man that dreamed how to kill the fox. The old man told me to pick up four stones about five inches long, and tie them with a string. He tied a stone on each wrist, one behind my neck, and one at the back of my belt. Then he took charcoal and blackened my nose on each side to represent the fox, then he made me take off my clothes; he took a stick about five feet long and held it in an inclined position. The old man then took two sticks and hit them together, and stood right by the door singing. He told me to whistle; then he walked toward the point where he had held the sticks. He then lay down by the stick and began to scratch on the ground as though he were caught in a trap. Then he said: ‘You are going to catch one now.’ By this time it was pretty late in the night. We gave a signal to the other boys and girls to come out and we all went to see our traps. I had a robe made out of a yearling calfskin that I threw over me, and I also had a rope my mother gave me with which to drag the foxes home if I caught any. Then we went to our traps, [pg 118] following the same path as we did when we went to set the trap with bait. As we went along we filled the night with song, singing: ‘The fox is in a trap, and his tail is sticking out.’ When we got near the traps we stopped singing, and one of us went on ahead. The leader who went ahead walked straight to our trap, when he returned he whistled; then we knew that some of us had caught something. When he came back he pointed out certain ones who had caught foxes. Then we lifted our deadfalls, slipped the ropes over them, and dragged them home. As we approached the camp we formed in line abreast, and began to sing. When we reached the camp every one was in bed. We sang the song which indicated that we had caught something; then we imitated the cry of the crow and the magpie, which indicated that we had had extra good luck. If we imitated the hooting of an owl, it showed that we had had bad luck, and none of us had caught anything. We were always anxious to catch some wild game, because we sold the skins to the traders, and with the money we bought knives and brass earrings and beads and paint.”
Chief Red Cloud
Chief Red Cloud
Chief Red Cloud, head chief of the Ogallallas, was without doubt the most noted and famous chief at the time of his [pg 119] death, December, 1909, in the United States. He became famous through his untiring efforts in opposition to everything the Government attempted to do in the matter of the pacification of the Sioux. One of the most lurid pages in the history of Indian warfare records the massacre at Fort Phil Kearny, in December, 1866. Chief Red Cloud planned and executed this terrific onslaught. He always remained a chief. He was always the head of the restless element, always the fearless and undaunted leader. He was the Marshal Ney of the Indian nations, until sickness and old age sapped his vitality and ambition.