“The boy papooses made fun of me.”CHAPTER SIXVILLAGE LIFE
“The boy papooses made fun of me.”
“The boy papooses made fun of me.”
“The boy papooses made fun of me.”
Cold weather was coming. Some snow had already fallen in the mountains. Hanabi and her friends went to work to make me some better clothes. Very soon they had a fine suit ready.
The trousers part was made somewhat like the chaps worn by cowboys, being open in front, with no seat; but on the sides they had wedge-shaped strips that ran up and fastened to the belt. These leggings fitted pretty tight, but there was a seam about as wide as my hand that could be let out if necessary. They gave me a pair of new moccasins that came up to my knees. They also made me another overshirt, or “mother-hubbard,” out of fine smoked buckskin; it fitted me better than did my first one. The sleeves came down a little below my elbows and had a long fringe from the shoulders down; it was also fringed around the neck and the bottom; and to touch it up more, they had stitched beads in heart and diamond shapes over the breast. The clothes were all very fine; but when I got them on, I looked a good deal like a squaw papoose.I didn’t care much, though, for the clothes fitted me pretty well and they were warm and comfortable. Mother also made me a hat out of muskrat skin. It ran to a peak and had two rabbit tails sewed to the top for tassels. With my new clothes on, I was better dressed than any other kid in camp.
Lee MoorhouseIndian camp by a river.
Lee MoorhouseIndian camp by a river.
Lee Moorhouse
Indian camp by a river.
We now started for the elk country. When we got there, the Indians killed about one hundred elk and a few bear; but by that time it was getting so cold that we set out for our winter quarters. After traveling a few days we reached a large river, called by the Indians Piatapa, by the whites the Jefferson River; it is now in Montana. Here we pitched camp to stay during the “snowy moons.”
Most of the buffaloes by this time had left for their winter range; but once in a while we saw a few as they passed our camp. The Indians did not bother them, however, because we had plenty of dried meat, and for fresh meat there were many white-tail deer that we could snare by hanging loops of rawhide over their trails through the willows. There were also a great many grouse and sage hens about in the brush. I have killed as many as six or seven of these a day with my bow and arrows.
Winter passed away very slowly. Nothing exciting happened until along towards spring; then one day we had a terrible fracas. Washakie had gone up the river a few miles to visit another large Indian village for a day or two. While he was away, pretty nearly all the camp got into a fight.
We had a fishing hole close to camp where the squaws and papooses would fish. Mother and I had been down there with the others fishing through this hole in the ice, and when we had caught a good string of fish mother took what we had to the tepee. She told me not to stay long.
As soon as she had gone, a girl, a little larger than I, wanted to take my tackle and fish in my hole. I let her have it, and she caught several fish. Then I heard mother call me and I asked the girl to give me back my pole so I could go home, but she would not do it. I tried to take it from her, but she jerked it away and hit me over the head with it, knocking me to my knees. I jumped up and gave her a whack that knocked her down; when she got up she let out some of the awfulest yelps I ever heard. Then she put for home as fast as she could go, yelling and screaming. I knew something else would happen pretty quick; so I gathered up what fish the other papooses hadn’t run away with and hiked for home too. Just as I got inside the tepee, the girl’s mother came rushing up with a big knife in her hand. “Give me that little white devil!” she screamed. “I’ll cut his heart out!” She started for me, but mother stopped her, and shoved her back out of the tepee.
They made such a racket that the whole camp gathered around to see the fun. The squaw hit mother over the head with the knife; and when I saw the blood fly, I grabbed a stick and struck the squaw over the head, knocking her down. Another squaw grabbed mother and I sent her spinning. Then others mixed in and took sides and soon the whole bunch was yelling and fighting fit to kill. One boy grabbed my stick, but I gave him a kick that settled him. Then Hanabi took the stick from me: but I ran into the tepee and grabbed my bow and arrows. I was so mad I would have made a few “good squaws” in quick time; but a big Indian jerked my bow from me and broke the string. I guess it was best that he did. More Indians rushed up and stopped the fight; but not before a lot of them went off howling with sore heads. That night Washakie came home and held a big council.I don’t know what they said, but the next day two or three families left our camp and went to join another band.
Bur. Am. Ethnology, Smithsonian InstitutionThe seed gatherers of Western desert tribes.
Bur. Am. Ethnology, Smithsonian InstitutionThe seed gatherers of Western desert tribes.
Bur. Am. Ethnology, Smithsonian Institution
The seed gatherers of Western desert tribes.
Everything now passed along very well for a time. I helped mother carry wood and water. The boy papooses made fun of me, calling me a squaw for doing it, because carrying wood and water was squaw’s work. I told mother that I would break some of their necks if they didn’t stop it. “Oh, let them alone,” she said, “they are bad boys.”
But one day we were getting wood, and having cut more than we could carry in one trip, I went back for it when a boy ran up to me and said, “You’re a squaw,” and spit at me. I threw down my wood and struck out after him. He ran yelping at every jump, expecting me, I guess, to kick his head off. But Washakie happened to see us and called to me to stop. It was lucky for that papoose that he did. I went back and got my wood and took it to the tepee.
Washakie wanted to know what it was all about. I told him what the boy had done. He said he did not want to start another camp fight, but he did want me to take my own part. He said that he had been watching how things were going, and he was glad to say that, so far as he knew, I had never started a fuss. He did not think that I was quarrelsome if I was let alone. He wasglad, he said, to see me stand up for myself; for if I was cowardly the papooses would give me no peace.
One day I heard an Indian talking to Washakie and telling him it was not right for him to let me do squaw’s work; it would set a bad example for the other boys. Washakie replied that he thought it was a good example, and if some of the older ones would take it, it would be better for their squaws.
“We burden our women to death,” he said, “with hard labor. I did not think so much about it until Yagaki came. I see now how much he helps mother and how much hard work she has to do. Yagaki appears to be happier helping mother than he is when playing with the other boys. I believe that she would have gone crazy if it had not been for him, her troubles over the loss of father and my brothers were so great. I do believe that the Great Spirit sent the little white boy to her.”
I think myself that if anything had happened to me, it would have killed mother. She was very proud to have me with her. She would say to Washakie, “Yagaki is a smart boy. He asks me questions that I can hardly answer. One day he asked me why the Indians did not haul and cut the wood for their women. His father does that for his mother. He thinks that the Indians ought to pack the meat, too, and take care of their own horses, or send the boys to do it. If the women tanned the hides and made the moccasins and clothes for the family and did the cooking, it was their share of the work.”
I heard all this talk going on one night when they thought I was asleep. Washakie agreed with most of what his mother said, but of course they couldn’t change the Indians’ way of doing things.