Cogewea, the Half-Blood

Endnotes

Sne-nah: “owl-woman” of the Okanogans and Tah-tah-kléah of the Yakimas are in the same category. Of the many people devouring monsters, this old woman with her great shoulder basket in which she carries off victims⁠—preferably children⁠—to be cooked or broiled alive and eaten in her remote cavernous den, is the most to be dreaded. I have seen the most refractory Indian child subdued by the mere allusion to her name. This tradition, along with others mentioned in the course of this volume, will be given in full in works now under way by the author of Cogewea and the writer of this note. ↩
Wanawish: denoting “water-rapids.” While this name is properly Yakima, it is not inappropriate, for in the first part of it is found the appellation for “river” as spoken by many of the kindred Columbia River tribes. ↩
Stemteemä: Okanogan for “grandmother.” ↩
Okanogan for rattlesnake is: Hwă-hwă-ulăh; or Hăh-ăh-lăwh. The rendition varies, such as: “evil” or “wicked-crawler”; “evil of the earth”; “evil spirit of the earth”; with perhaps other forms of interpretations. The reptile is held in reverential dread by all the Columbia River tribes. It is only in the direst straits that the tribesmen will molest or injure any of them. They are averse to speaking traversely about them; but on the other hand are prone to condone and make excuse for their dangerous nature. When the Indians are in the hills digging roots in the spring time, it is not uncommon for the rattler to crawl into the teepees and seek the warmth of the bedding. Ofttimes one will ensconce itself at the head of the sleeper. When this occurs, the Indian will carefully gather the intruder on a stick and carry it away, speaking to it something like this:

“Grandmother! do not come here. I might not see you and step on you. This would hurt you. I do not want to hurt you, my grandmother. Stay out here among the rocks where the sun will soon make you warm. Do not come where I am living, where I am sleeping. I will not stay here long and we must be friends; my grandmother.”

I have yet to see an Indian kill a rattlesnake, and seldom will they tell of any disagreeable experiences with them. The rattler is wise, and despite intervening distances, he understands and knows that he is being talked about. It is folly and unsafe to thus tempt his anger. Strange instances of this character have come under my own personal observation. ↩
The claim has been made that none other than the Caucasian is susceptible of blushing. From personal observation this is an error. I have noted this characteristic not only among the half-bloods, but the full-blood Indians as well. Especially is this true of girls and young women. Naturally, the lighter the complexion, the more discernible the effusion. The blushing quality in the Indian as indicant of modesty, is, I believe, far more in evidence than pallor, resultant of apprehension in the face of unlooked for or sudden danger. ↩
Okanogan for “Big river water falls,” or “Big water falls.” Applied not only to the Les Chaudière or Kettle Falls of the Columbia, but to the entire stream as well. ↩
“Kootenai,” or “Kutenai.” The name is spelled in many and various ways; but the author has adhered to the generally accepted form. A distinct linguistic stock, the Kitunahan family extended from the lakes about the source of the Columbia in British Columbia, to the northern part of Montana, and to the Pend d’Oreille Lake in Idaho. It is supposed that they at one time resided east of the Rocky Mountains and were driven west of this barrier by the Siksika, their deadly enemy.

Although brave and courageous warriors, it is noteworthy that there never has been any serious trouble between the Kootenais and the whites. They are great gamblers and still possess many of their primitive customs. In some respects the women excelled in basketry and bead work. See DeSmet and other early western writers. Consult Handbook of American Indians, pp. 740 to 742. ↩
The privilege of the war dance was earned by the women. Among the northwestern tribes, at least some of them, it was not uncommon for women to accompany war parties on distant forays. Usually not more than two or three, always volunteers, would attach themselves to a war-band of ordinary size. An elderly woman well versed in the tribal history of her people, informed me that only the bravest of her kind would ever dare face the dangers incumbent on such trips. It devolved on them to prepare the food and do other camp work. She said: “When successful in returning, they were ever afterwards entitled to sit in council, and participate in the war dance with the most distinguished warriors.” The medicine dance has always been open to both men and women alike. ↩
The war-drum never figures in the spirit, or strictly religious dances. In these, the pom-pom or “tom-tom” is in evidence; and, with the Yakimas and kindred tribes, only the skins of deer or the horse are used in the construction of the instrument. It must not be desecrated by amusement usages. ↩
Seldom is it deemed necessary for the whip to be brought into play, but I have seen a few instances where it was so used. One of these batons, given me by Yellow Wolf, a Nez Perce warrior, is a great spike of elk horn studded with brass nails and with a heavy lash of leather. Not only a scourge, it would be a formidable weapon, especially if wielded from horseback as primarily intended. ↩
This stone-headed club is now in my possession, a present from the Nez Perce warrior of the dance. A thrilling personal war narrative, dictated by its owner, is still in manuscript form. ↩
Refer to note 34. ↩
Shoyahpee: denoting “white-man.” The etymology is of foreign coinage, and in usage with but slight variation among all the northwestern tribes. The form here given and used throughout this volume is of the Spokanes as being slightly more phonetic than the Okanogan so-yah’-pen. It is the sho-yah’-poo of the Nez Perce, and the Yakimas; and the whe-nee-tum of the Victorians, B.C. An intelligent Yakima told me of its introduction among his people. It was brought by the first Jesuistic missionary from some tribe not recalled, where it was applied to the white man, comparing him to the hog because of his greedy nature and proneness to “eat up everything he sights.” ↩
An illustrative example of this strange custom is the following romantic, though well authenticated incident.

An Okanogan village was moving. One of the girls was loved by a poor young man who was unable to pay in presents the high value placed upon her by her parents. This difficulty precluded a marriage. For some cause⁠—possibly clandestinely⁠—this maiden loitered at the deserted camp until her companions had preceded her some distance. She then followed them, carrying a bundle of her personal effects. While ascending a steep hill, she laid aside her burden to indulge in a short rest. In so doing, she observed her lover, who had secretly appeared, standing below her. She sat down, covering her feet but said nothing. After some moments of silence, he spoke.

“You have nice clean ankles. No wonder you do not want any man to see them.”

There was another long silence before she made reply.

“You had better carry my pack.”

This was equivalent to a marriage. She had accepted him as a husband. The next morning they went openly into the newly pitched village, the man bearing the woman’s pack, and nothing was said by the parents. The young warrior had won his bride by a well recognized tribal law and all was well in the sight of her people. But had the girl refused his suit and made complaint to her family, serious trouble would have befallen him. The scene of this poetic occurrence is still known to the Indians as: “Where they look for ankles,” or “Looking for ankles.” It is on the Colville Reservation, some six or eight miles from the Columbia River.

Even now among the more primitive class of the northwestern tribes, the young girls wear abnormally long skirts reaching well down over the ankles. I have often observed them when entering a teepee or house, to seat themselves upon the floor without effecting the least exposure of ankles. ↩
This law of force held with the Columbia River tribes. Harmelt, the hunter, was a fine looking Indian of the Yakimas, tall, well built and active. A terrible fighter, the tribesmen all feared him. His arms and upper portion of body bore scores of knife wounds. He courted the wife of another member of the tribe, who told him that she was afraid of her husband, that he had a bad temper and might kill her. Harmelt said that he would come on a certain day with a horse and take her away.

On the evening designated, Harmelt rode into the village, left his horse in front of the lodge where the woman was living with her husband and his parents, and entered the doorway. The husband was reclining on some blankets, his wife was sitting at his side engaged with work. Without preliminaries, Harmelt took the woman by the arm and said: “Come with me! I am going to take you for my wife.”

The woman rose without comment. The husband, a lithe, active fellow, leaped to his feet with knife drawn and protested: “No! You can not take this woman from me. She is my wife.”

Harmelt made no reply, but led the woman from the lodge, followed by the husband. As he drew near his horse, the enraged husband struck him in the back of the shoulder with his knife⁠—struck twice⁠—three times. It was then than Harmelt whirled and drove his own knife into the breast of his assailant, who crumpled to the ground. He died within a few hours.

Harmelt was not seriously wounded. His buckskin shirt and heavy blanket, doubled, had saved him. He was not punished for the crime. The transaction was all within the tribal laws, where force was the recognized right to rule. In after years, Harmelt regretted his crime. ↩
Inconstancy in the woman was severely dealt with among the Okanogans. Such disgrace was punishable with death at the hands of a relative or any member of her family. In 1915 there was still living an aged man who had shot and killed his own sister while she was sitting in her teepee, for the sole reason that she had in a single instance strayed from the path of virtue. Seemingly no such penalty was attached to a like offence by the man. ↩
An actual incident in the child-life of the author. This “no-talk” trait of the Indian is characteristic of the race, permeating alike both old and young. “No savey” is a time worn expression of the tribesman who conceives it not to his interest to understand. Sometimes this becomes jocund. I have observed even the school graduates, when going back to the blanket during festive occasions, gaze with blank stolidity into the face of a white interrogator, with perhaps only a negative grunt. This is considered a huge pleasantry to be laughed about afterwards. ↩
The name applied to some of the Columbia River tribes; but in this particular, to the village and bands residing about Les Chaudière, or Kettle Falls. See “To the Reader.” ↩
A tradition of this prophecy is current among all the Columbia River tribes. The most noted, perhaps, was that of Kööms-kooms, who, in a vision, foretold the coming of a strange and powerful nation which would overrun and usurp their country. He described the superior implements of war and domestic utensils of their conquerors, along with some of the domestic animals. To this revelation can be traced the source of the present Pom-pom, or “Dreamer” religion of the Yakimas and others, which is undoubtedly of comparatively recent origin. The dawn of the worship which constitutes the spirit dance of these tribes is lost in antiquity. The text gives a true version of this Okanogan oracle. In all cases where an Indian loses consciousness, even momentarily, he is regarded as dead. “Killed” or “was dead and came back to life” is an expression they often use when narrating some serious accident to themselves or other members of the tribe. ↩
Chip-chap-tiqul^k: Okanogan for myth, or improbable story. ↩
See “To the Reader.” ↩
An historic fact. See “To the Reader.” ↩
Revelation 8:10⁠–⁠11. ↩
To a direct inquiry, an intelligent, primitive-minded Yakima in explaining to me their tribal belief relative to the Happy Hunting Ground said:

“There is no hunting there as in this life. There is no killing; no death. Suffering and hardships enter not in that place. If you wish for any kind of meat, the deer or other animal instantly appears before you. With a spirit knife you sever what you want but there is no wound; no pain with the cutting. The scar is healed as quickly as the knife passes. The spirit-animal does not suffer. It is the same way with everything; roots, berries; all are there just as in this life. There is no war, no wrong in the Happy Hunting Grounds.” ↩
Exodus 15:23⁠–⁠25. ↩
Mourning Dove had much of her information first hand, but for a concise exposure of the ghastly Blackfeet scandal, see James Willard Schultz, in Sunset Magazine, for November, 1922; published after Cogewea had been written. Mr. Schultz, an old-time Indian trader, and adopted member of the Blackfeet tribe, is most scathing in his open charge of duplicity on the part of Indian Bureau officials. The hideous details of how three thousand virile, self-supporting tribesmen had been reduced to a thousand starving, disease-infected wretches, extends over twoscore years, or since the extermination of the buffalo. Seven hundred Blackfeet actually died of starvation during one winter, while their “preacher”-Agent held stored corn for his hens that his own well loaded table might be supplied with eggs. Even at this day, as Mr. Schultz clearly proves, this calloused indifference to the sufferings of the “wards” is too manifest. Appeals for public aid for the half-nourished Blackfeet, were systematically forestalled by a broadcast canard that the Blackfeet were in no respect needy or objects of charity. This, too, when coffins were not even being furnished for the victims of Bureau “frightfulness.”

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 four represents the intermediate size. The pattern was introduced by the Hudson Bay Company, nor have I ever seen one that was woven in the States. The favorite color is a white field with black border and stripes.

The Arrow Lake Indians, as well as kindred tribes, manufactured robes or blankets from the fur of the rabbit and the soft fleecy hair of the wild mountain goat. The material was laboriously twisted into long, heavy strings or cords and woven in square mesh, making a very complete and warm wrap or covering. Of these examined⁠—goat-hair⁠—only two, comparatively modern and coming from British Columbia, showed any trace of artificial coloring. Commercially dyed wool yarn had been used, the designs knitted into the original fabric. One showed a wreath done in pale red, the other a center-field of blue. ↩
With but few exceptions the early traders, individual and incorporate, were not only inordinately immoral⁠—marrying after the tribal custom native women only to abandon them at pleasure but they were, to all intents, scarce short of legalized banditti. When the Hudson Bay trading post at Old Fort Okanogan was at its height, the Indians came with loads of priceless furs which were piled equal in build to the object of their fancy, and it was called an “even swap!” Thus for a cheap, smooth-bored flinklock gun of the musket type⁠—oftimes six or seven feet in length⁠—the Company received a pack of the finest variety of skins stacked solidly the standing height of the worthless firearm. Into the hands of the simple minded natives came fabulously priced beads, cheap ornaments and gaudy cloth; blankets, weapons, ammunition and other articles of fancied or passing needs, including foods of doubtful quality, and into the coffers of the shrewd and unscrupulous traders poured the wealth of a nation. Nor has the looting ceased! The methods have only changed to suit the ever shifting conditions of the years. ↩
In the Stemteemä’s narrative of Green-blanket Feet, the author has purposely incorporated incidents connected with two or three different occurrences. The story as preserved by the immediate descendants of the unfortunate woman and as given me by her granddaughter, Mrs. Susan Winegarden, née Hunter, follows:

One of the traders sent to the Okanogan from St. Louis, was Robert Pelkey. To the Post came Sophie Antwine, a comely maiden of the Arrow Lake band. These Indians have always been noted for their light complexions and pleasing manners. Young Pelkey and Sophia became fast friends and later married in accordance to the tribal rite. This was nothing unusual. Adventurers, traders, and army men⁠—especially officers⁠—often took “wives” from among the natives. The women entered such unions in good faith, but with the men the “contracts” were to be ignored upon personal convenience. Military men who afterwards won international fame during the Civil War left progeny of mixed blood among some of the Columbia River tribes.

To the Pelkeys, two children were born: Robert and Kitty. On these pledges the Indian mother lavished all the love inherent with motherhood. But her happiness proved fleeting! The husband soon tired of his dusky wife, and planned secretly to desert her. Not wishing his children to grow up as Indians, he determined to steal them away and take them back to his old home to be educated. They were then about two and three years of age.

One day Sophia first missed her babies, and then her husband. She learned that he had left with the children by pack train for Fort Benton on the Missouri River. This frontier post was the nearest river embarkation for the East. The recreant spouse made the journey in safety and without encountering hardships other than usual to a trip of its kind in those days.

When the wife and mother realized the full extent of the blow, she became possessed with the sole thought of recovering her little ones. With no preparation and without any goodbyes, she immediately set out on foot; following the trail where, ever “just ahead” was being borne all that was dear and sacred of earth to her. Feeding on berries and roots, sometimes stopping with friendly tribesmen or at a settler’s cabin⁠—but more often sleeping in the open⁠—starving! she resolutely held to the long, lonely way.

But the wanderer fared well through this first part of her travels, as compared to what she was destined to endure. An enemy country must be crossed. The Blackfeet, Sioux, and other plains tribes were warring, killing or taking captive any who came their way. Having been warned by the friendlies, Sophia was ever alert to possible dangers; but at the cost of valuable time. On one occasion she found herself between two opposing war parties, and for three days was compelled to hide in nothing more than an abandoned badger-den. Often she sought refuge in the brush and timber along streams and “washouts”; but through it all she undauntedly pressed onward. Her moccasins worn to shreds, she tore strips from her blanket⁠—green in color⁠—with which to encase her feet. From this, she was subsequently sobriqueted by her tribe, “Green-blanket Feet.”

Weary and famished, the woman at last arrived at Fort Benton. Directed to the boat landing, she hurried there only to see the steamer just loosed from its moorings, backing into midstream. Standing on the deck with others, was her unfaithful husband with their two children. With outstretched arms, the wailing mother stood on the shore and watched her babies until they had faded in the distance. The relentless Missouri had aided in the consummation of another tragedy.

Sophia was now alone and friendless and far from home. She had fought a fearful fight and lost; and now, penniless and without a single backward glance, she faced the sunset on her long, dreary return tramp. Her lagging footsteps were no longer buoyed by the incentive of loved ones “just ahead.” The same fierce struggles were encountered, as empty-handed she plodded back to a broken home and her waiting people. As the journey neared the end, so did the green blanket. Strip after strip had been torn away to furnish protection for her feet. When she at least reached the Okanogan, the Hudson bay blanket was but a memory, but “Green-blanket Feet” had become a reality. The annals do not reveal a more pathetic incident of mother devotion.

In time, Sophia Pelkey was married again in accordance to the Indian mode and had five children. Her last husband, a white renegade, in a drunken rage one day stabbed her to death. When the older children entered the cabin, they found their mother and her baby lying side by side; both in sleep, from which the one would never awaken. She had always kept her children with her, save only when they attended the mission school.

In St. Louis with their paternal grandmother, Robert and Kitty Pelkey found home and schooling. The father eventually drifted West and settled in Walla Walla, Washington; and when his children had reached early maturity, he sent for them.

Kitty married Alonzo Hunter, sergeant in the U.S. Army and stationed at the military post near Walla Walla. It is averred that at the time of her marriage, the girl was not aware of her Indian descent. By accident, she and her brother met Mr. Charles Brown, a later son of Green-blanket Feet, who acquainted them with the history of their Indian blood.

The Hunters moved to Missoula, Montana; and to them three children were born; John, Charles and Susan. The mother died when Susan was but three years old. The boys were placed in a Government school and later given allotments on the Flathead Reservation, where they were still recently residing. Susan was taken into the family of a Montana pioneer and at the age of seventeen married Mr. Rolla Winegarden. They settled in the land of her Indian ancestry, in northern Washington.

Robert Pelkey, Sr. died in Missoula, about 1898⁠–⁠1900. Robert Pelkey, Jr. died a few years later. He was a printer by trade and worked for various newspaper firms of Montana. He had achieved some prominence as a writer, when his career was cut short by drink. His three children now reside about Iron Mountain, Montana.

As a sample of Indian Bureau administration, it is interesting to note that while the two brothers and other relatives of Susan Winegarden, née Hunter, have been granted land allotments as recognized tribesmen, she has been denied this right, notwithstanding the Flathead Indian Council voted her a member of the tribe. But as absurdly unjust as such “ruling” may seem, even though she had resided with a white family, it has its counterpart in scores of similar cases on the different reservations.

Kathryn Maud Wilcox, born September 13, 1910, was refused allotment on the Yakima Reservation, although her older sister, Ruby, as well as Georgia, a younger sister, were both allotted as Indians. The father is a mixed-blood, and an allottee. ↩
The Upper Falls of the Pend d’Oreille are about eleven or twelve miles above the Horseshoe Bend, with intervening rapids to the Lower Falls. For two miles the river roars through an impressive canyon from four hundred to six hundred feet in depth. For three fourths of the way the walls of the gorge are sloping hills broken at intervals by imposing cliff formations. For the remaining distance, the foam-crested waters tumble between sheer, slate colored embattlements of the greater height. This stream, outlet of the Flathead Lake, is shown on old Government maps as “Flathead River”; but it has always been known by the old timers as the “Pend d’Oreille,” according to Mr. W. F. Millar of Polson, County Surveyor. ↩
One such incident as here hinted was witnessed on the Flathead, during the period covered by this story. ↩
Chinook for “secret thief.” ↩
Puch-qeeh: “grass snake.” Belonging more properly to the Yakima, the phrase is expressive of distrust, a reflection on the declared intentions of a supposed friend. In every way it is the world wide “snake in the grass.” ↩
In tribal life, the power of the medicine man is to be reckoned with. In all gatherings where two or more tribes are represented, it is the business of the accompanying medicine man to protect his people against the possible machinations of the medicine man of the rival band. This is done in various ways, but the most spectacular coming under my personal observation, was during a festive period, where the medicine man in native garb, mounted on a white horsea favorite color of the warrior class⁠—rode circling back and forth in front of his own village, the while chanting a low weird tah, or medicine song in unison with the measured tread of his mount. ↩
While history records no account of Lewis and Clark having wintered among the Okanogans, this tradition of the second coming of the Shoyahpee as narrated by the Stemteemä, is, in its essence, true as handed down by this tribe. Perhaps time has confused it with accounts of the later expedition brought to them by their more southern neighbors.

After the departure of the explorers, or voyageurs, and the return of the Chief’s sister to her people, she explained that the skin had been laced to the drying-frame with the bark of young willows⁠—perhaps with the willow itselfand had been struck from its fastenings after the lashing had become dry and brittle. The Indians watching from a distance supposed the lacing to be buckskin, and knowing the tenacity of such they attributed to the strange white beings a supernatural power.

In this relation another incident is preserved. At the abandoned cabin of their visitors the Indians found a fragment of what they believed had been a foot covering. The material was unlike anything they had ever seen, and they “danced” over it for several suns, endeavoring to fathom its magic. It was described as possessing a strong and very peculiar odor, now supposed to have been some kind of waterproof goods. ↩
The Okanogans, unacquainted with the destination of the migratory birds, believed that they flew to the spirit land, at the approach of winter, whence they returned with the coming of spring. ↩
This attributive power of the medicine man to accomplish fatal injury from great distances, is not at all unusual. Yoom’-tee-bee; “bitten by a grizzly bear,” a prominent Chief of the Yakimas, was suddenly and mortally stricken in 1910, by a Columbia River medicine man, sixty miles away. One of his followers in describing the death of this chieftain said to me:

“I saw him kill Yoom’-tee-bee, just the same as if you stick a knife in his breast.”

Yoom’-tee-bee was a physically strong man and from all outward appearances in the prime of health. His demise was attended by some strange and rather startling occurrences. ↩
Among some, if not all, the Columbia River tribes, to see a star within the halo, or “lodge” of the moon, denotes a death not far delayed. If a bright star, it will be a young person; if a dim star, an old person. A shooting star is also a precursor of death and should never be watched. If ending in an explosion of sparks, the victim is to be one of wealth and prominence. See note 52.

The raven is a bird of ill omen, ever flying in the vanguard of disease and scourges. See Legends of the Yakimas; by the writer of this note. ↩
The partisan historian has ever loyally refrained from touching on the moral shortcomings of our border heroes. The Indian wives of two United States army officers who rose to national and international distinction, were well known in this far northwest; both of them leaving mixed-blood offspring. The grandson of one of them told me that his grandmother never spoke of her white husband without weeping, always declaring to kill him, should she ever meet him. ↩
Kee-lau-naw: Okanogan for “grizzly-bear.” ↩
The general reader does not realize the gross and petty wrongs to which the individual Indian is subjected, even in the courts of justice. The following are but a few coming under my own personal observation.

A young Yakima of good repute when sober, tanked on the white man’s “firewater,” attempted to ride his horse upon the veranda of a suburban home. Failing in this, he rolled from his saddle and was soon in a drunken stupor. The Sheriff was notified and an officer brought the unconscious redskin to the lockup. In the Police Court the next morning, he was find “Ninety Dollars for Drunkenness and Disorderly Conduct.”

Just nineteen days from this occurrence, a degenerate though sober white renegade, rode to the teepee of some Indian hop pickers not far from the city, where he found an aged squaw and her young granddaughter alone. Dismounting he assaulted the girl, who, with the venerable grandmother, fought her assailant. Becoming enraged, he beat the young woman with a heavy quirt with which he was armed, bruising her about the neck and shoulders in a frightful manner. He rode away when the girl fell insensible to the ground. These Indians were of the “better class,” and although the same Sheriff who was so prompt in the other case was notified, and the miscreant was well known, no arrest was made.

I saw a policeman take two free drinks at different bars and within ten minutes go out and arrest a perfectly sober Yakima minor, whose pockets when searched yielded up a solitary fish hook and line and a ten penny nail. This lad, clean and well dressed, spent a night in a vermin-infested cell overcrowded with drunks, and next morning, despite a presentation of facts, the boy was fined by a booze-fighting police judge for “Drunkenness and Disorderly Conduct.” It is solace to know that within a few days this same “Judge” was beaten up by carousing white companions in a drunken saloon brawl.

A young Yakima was convicted in the Superior Court for a minor offence and sent to the penitentiary. The evidence was largely circumstantial and one of the acting jurors confided to me that, had the boy been a white man, he would have been acquitted, but as an Indian he was convicted. The victim was guilty of no greater crime than that of wearing a bronzed skin, the bestowment of nature’s God.

A Yakima was arrested on a stabbing affray; had his hearing and was entitled to freedom. He was ill, it was winter time, and his family was suffering; yet still he was held in durance vile. I went to the Prosecutor, a deacon in a prominent church, and was blandly informed that “through professional courtesy” the Injun was being retained until his counsel could collect the residue of an exorbitant fee⁠—actual imprisonment for debt. ↩
The bent poles forming the skeleton frame of the sweat house were regarded as the bones, especially the ribs of the once living “Chief of the Animal World.” ↩
“Lodge of the night-sun.” Alluding to the halo, or circle observed about the moon under certain atmospherical conditions. (Refer to note 47.) A very similar belief in this celestial death omen prevailed among the hill-people of the Trans-Allegheny; and it is also found in northern Scotland, if not of still more universal range. As forecasting weather conditions, a tribesman of the Columbia River will say in connection with the halo and the stars: “The moon is throwing aside his children! A change is coming in the weather.” ↩
The Soma-ash-hee always appears in a dream or vision, in the nature of a communication or revelation from the major deity, or Great Spirit. The mediumistic channel of this enigmatical impartation may be an animal, bird, reptile, or some inanimate object; the elements or celestial bodies, and not infrequently the departed human dead. Events of the future are revealed and certain rules are laid down by which the devotee must be guided if she or he would profit by the occult power conferred. Not every Indian attains to this favor. It comes only to those who have found “medicine” during the fasting time of life, which is childhood. Children are sent into dreary and solitary places at night where, alone, they commune with the mysteries of nature, and where often there appears to them some apparitional tutelary, which instructs them in the “medicine” of hunting, of war, of occult healing and the wisdom of prophecy; in short, covering practically every avocation in Indian tribal life. Ofttimes children of very tender age are “staked” or tied out in desolate and terrifying spots⁠—some of which I have seen⁠—for the purpose of obtaining this strange and mystifying “power.” Youths of more years are placed under the care of some man renowned for his occult and skill along certain lines, who guides and trains his protégés for their coming sphere in life. He sees to it that his charges are given ample experiences calculated to foster and develop the primitive attribute of self preservation in meeting and combating all exigencies of danger under whatever form, and above all, respect and reverence for the spiritual. A boy may be sent alone into the awesome woods, there to listen the whole night long to the “song” of the “dancing” grizzly; into the barren desert hills where the impressive silence is fraught with communicative wisdom; to weird and ghostly bodies of water inhabited by monsters and indescribable terrors; to the proximity of old burial grounds where passing flames and other unearthly demonstrations are in evidence⁠—the entire system trending to a development of the heroic and the religious in the primitive mind⁠—the mind closest to nature and to nature’s God. This training was extended to both sexes. ↩
(Refer to note 53.) To hear voices from inanimate objects as intermediary to the Great Spirit or Great Maker, is not uncommon in Indian philosophy, but more frequently the revelations come through some member of the animal world. However, the celestial bodies, thunder and lightning, the wind and other elemental forces, are often channels of Divine communication. The Indian as an integral is profoundly psychical. ↩