Descending from the divide, we entered a broad and fertile valley, where our trail led along a shallow stream. At the head of this valley rose the sharp peak of Chief Mountain, 4000 feet above the surrounding plain, and an altitude of 9056 feet above the sea. It is a lone citadel of rock, an eastern spur of the Rocky Mountains, a landmark of the international boundary line between Canada and the United States. The Indians named it “Chief,” because they could see it so far from the plains. It overlooked the Old North Trail of the Indians, which ran north and south along the foot of the Rockies. In those days of long ago, what sights could have been seen from the precipitous slopes of Chief Mountain—great herds of buffalo and graceful antelope, deer, wapiti and moose, and bands of primitive red men moving north and south over the broad plateaus and along the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.
We came that night to a broad stream called Green Banks by the Indians (St. Mary’s River), and camped near the lodge of an old medicine man named Spotted Eagle, a friend of Mad Wolf, my Indian father.
He had a wrinkled, merry old face, with gray hair which was separated into braids over his shoulders by bands of otter-skin. I found him lying on a couch of robes and blankets fanning himself with the wing of an eagle. The day was warm and he was naked except for a loin-cloth. [[171]]
When I entered, he gave an odd exclamation of surprise, intended to be humorous. Then he sat up, and made his toilet, shaving by pulling the straggling gray hairs from his wrinkled face with a pair of small tweezers, and combing his hair with the bristly tail of a porcupine; and all the time he talked.
He liked to joke and had a reputation as a wit. After each of his jokes he laughed and winked. At the barking of a dog or neighing of a horse, he would give a startled cry as if frightened; and made a grimace. He did this as a joke and to make me laugh, which I always did to please him. He loved funny stories, especially of Old Man (Napi), a strange and mythical character known to many Indian tribes. He was a sort of creator and teacher, but at the same time a trickster who played evil pranks. Some of the tales about him were brutal and obscene. But Indians, both old and young, always liked the Old Man Stories, because of their power to entertain and make people laugh. Spotted Eagle told them to me, as he would tell fairy tales. He enjoyed them because of his keen sense of humor.
After dark by his lodge-fire, when the air had the chill it always takes after sunset near the foot of the Rockies, Spotted Eagle told me the story of
Old Man and the Squirrels
“Old Man was always on the move; he never stayed long in one place. He could talk with the birds and animals, and often conversed with them on his travels. One time he came to a place where some squirrel-people were having a game. They were running around a fire, squealing and having a big time, all chasing one squirrel. As soon as that squirrel was caught, they would bury him in the ashes near a fire until he squealed; then they threw him out in a hurry. After that another squirrel ran until he was caught and was buried [[172]]in the ashes. But, as soon as it got hot and he squealed, they always dug him out.
“Old Man watched them for a while and then said: ‘Let me do that too.’
“The leader of the squirrels replied: ‘Come on, elder brother, we will bury you first.’
“Old Man was careful to squeal as soon as the squirrels covered him with ashes; and they quickly dug him out.
“Then he said: ‘Now younger brothers it is your turn; since there are so many of you, I shall bury you all at once.’
“So the squirrels lay down together, and Old Man covered them with hot ashes. But he told a mother squirrel that stood to one side of the fire: ‘Just go away from here, so that there may be some young squirrels for the future.’
“Soon the ashes got too hot and the squirrels squealed to be taken out. But Old Man heaped on them all the ashes he could. He did not pull them out until all the squirrels were cooked. Then he sat down and ate his fill. There were so many he could not eat them all. He put the rest on poles and lay down to sleep, telling his hind-end, which always watched for him, to waken him if anything came near.
“Old Man was asleep only a little while, when he heard a noise. He jumped up and looked around; but he saw only a crow sitting in a tree. This made him angry, and he said:
“ ‘Is it for that bird you make such a noise?’
“He went to sleep again and a lynx came around, but Old Man slept on. When he woke up at last and looked for the squirrels, they were all gone. The lynx had eaten them up.
“Then Old Man followed that lynx and found him asleep after eating all the squirrels. Old Man seized him and shouted: ‘I have you now.’ He took him by the ears and banged his nose against a rock and made it flat. He stood him on his hind legs and stretched out his body and his legs to make them long. He broke off most of his tail and left only a [[173]]stump. Then he took some hair and stuck it on his nose for whiskers, and said:
“ ‘You bob-cats will always look like that. You will have flat faces, long bodies and long legs and a stump of a tail; and you will be so short-winded you cannot run far.’
“Old Man was so angry with his own hind-end for not waking him, that he struck it with a fire-stick. And when the burned place began to hurt, he held it towards the wind to cool it off and shouted: ‘Let the wind blow harder and harder.’
“Then the wind came so hard Old Man was blown away. He felt himself going and caught hold of anything within reach; he tore up trees and bushes by the roots. At last he held to some birch trees, and they did not break.
“After the wind went down, Old Man got up and shouted:
“ ‘Mean old birches! You spoiled all my fun. I was having a good time being blown by the wind, until you stopped me.’
“He grabbed the birches and slashed them with his knife; all up and down the trees he cut, until they were covered with slashes. ‘Now you will always look like that,’ he cried. ‘And forever, all the birches shall have these same cuts.’ They came from the slashes Old Man made long ago with his knife.”
By this time it was late, and the old medicine man ended by saying: “Now the dogs are scratching the ground, having had their evening meal.” An Indian way of saying: “My story-telling is finished.” [[174]]