: The Poetical Works of William Lisle Bowles Vol. 1 With Memoir Critical Dissertation and Explanatory Notes by George Gilfillan by Bowles William Lisle Gilfillan George Editor - English poetry

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Sunset from Lookout Butte Colored frontispiece A Small Lake on the Western Slope of the Rockies 4 Our Indian Tepee 4 An Old Indian Trail 16 Tribal Camp of Blackfoot on the Prairie 20 Mad Wolf 36 Mad Wolf praying 40 Mad Wolf's Sacred Beaver Bundle 40 Woman under a Sun-Shelter: Bead and Quill Work; Meat drying on Poles 70 Woman repairing a Tepee-Cover 70 Scaffold Burial 78 A Grave on a Hilltop 78 White Grass, the Medicine Man Showing Interior Arrangement of his Tepee 92 Sunrise at our Hunting Camp in the Rockies 112 Onesta 154 Nitana 174 The Country of the North Piegans 186 Onesta entering the Thunder Tepee with his Sacred Bundles 200 The Crow Water Ceremony of Onesta in the Thunder Tepee 200 Brings-Down-the-Sun and the Author 210 Three Chiefs, Followers of Mad Wolf 250 A Line of Warriors with War Bonnets 250 Drying and Softening a Skin 256 Fleshing a Hide 256 Circle Camp of the Blackfoot 260 Inner Circle of the Tribal Camp, with Crow Tepee in Foreground 264 Rattler doctoring Stuyimi 272 Elk Horn, Herald of the Brave Dog Society 280 Society of Brave Dogs marching through the Camp 284 Characteristic Costumes of Brave Dogs 284 Brave Dogs giving their Society Dance 286 Mountain Chief 292 Wolf Plume 292 A Blackfoot Camp on the Prairie 296 Ceremony of the Sun Dance inside the Sacred Tepee 302 Raising the Center Pole for the Sun Lodge 308 The Sun Lodge Finished and Ready for the Tribe 308 Twilight in the Circle Camp: Tepees illuminated by Inside Fires 314

OLD INDIAN TRAILS

MY INDIAN GUIDE

It was an evening in early summer. The stars shone bright and our Indian tepee glowed with light from its inside fire. My guide, a famous scout of the Blackfoot tribe, smoked in silence; while I lay on my comfortable bed of robes and blankets, listening to the sounds from the forest--chirping of crickets, last songs of the thrushes and vibrating chant of an ovenbird.

That night by our lodge-fire I said to the scout: "Tell me about your home." And he replied:

"On the prairie beyond the Rockies, I have a ranch with many horses and cattle. The mountains are near, the hunting good; our streams and rivers are full of fish. Come with me to my country, to my tribe, the Blackfoot Indians. In our valley the head men of the tribe live; you will meet there our leading chiefs."

For a moment I was silent. The plan of the scout accorded with my own desire. All my life I wanted to live away from the city, among the mountains and wilds. I was weary of the turmoil of the city, the dreary grind and slavery of business, from early morn until night in an office-prison; away from the sunlight and from birds and flowers in the spring-time. I wanted to shake off the shackles of social convention, to leave the worry and stress of the modern city, where business and the making of money are the chief end of man.

I thought to myself: "If I go with my guide, I can live out-of-doors all day and all night. I shall become strong in body and mind and be happy. And, instead of striving for money, I will go on a quest. I will stay with the scout and visit his tribe, to find whether they are more happy and contented in their primitive life, than civilized people in great modern cities."

Now Indians have a way of masking their feelings; they never show enthusiasm. So I said quietly to the scout: "I want to go to your home and your Indian tribe." This ended our talk for that night; but I had a keen desire to go.

My guide was near middle age. He had the swarthy complexion, black hair and high cheek bones of an Indian; but he did not look like a full-blood. He was tall and slender, with an impressive manner; fluent of speech and polite and suave. His father was a white man named Jackson, an early pioneer, a Rocky Mountain hunter and trapper, his mother an Indian woman. The son was called Billy Jackson by white men and Siksika?-koan by the Indians.

But Siksika?-koan was an unusual half-breed. He raised himself above the popular prejudice against half-breeds. He was liked and respected by both white men and Indians. Honest and industrious, generous and kind, he was always ready to help any who came to his ranch. He stood high in the councils of the Blackfoot tribe; and served honorably as scout for Generals Custer, Miles, and Reno in the Indian wars.

The scout was a good guide in the wilderness; on him I could depend. He knew the trails of the plains and mountains and handled with skill the wild Indian horses. Self-reliant in time of danger, he had the quiet manliness and courage that knew no fear; a keen sense of humor and a wonderful knowledge of nature--information not gained from books.

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