An Indian Experience

An Indian Experience By Ellen L. Jakeman The following story of early days in Utah was related to me by a pioneer, and I have endeavored to give it in his own words: "My father had located on a piece of ground several miles up a small can- yon adjacent to the settlement where we lived. There was a comparatively level flat of about thirty acres. This was covered with a sturdy growth of scrub oak, and we surely earned that ground while preparing it for the plow. We did not get the grubbing all done the first, nor yet the second, year; but cleared enough to put in several five-acre patches of wheat, and it did well. The place was under fence, and where we had not cleared off the oak brush, there grew a very succulent species of blue grass. It grew everywhere, of course, but more especially among the oak brush along the course of the mountain stream. Being under fence it had remained un- disturbed by the cattle and Indian ponies that pastured the creek bottom in the late summer. The wheat had been cut and shocked, but not yet hauled from the field, and I was sent up one morning to see if it was all right. "I was fighting mad when I found a dozen or more Indian ponies inside the fence, full as ticks, browsing round with great contentment. They had been inside all night, by the looks of things, and I opened wide a gate, and with a handful of stones to help me convince them that outside the fence was a more desirable place, I started to chase them out. I supposed they had broken down the fence, and come in of themselves, but had not been running them many minutes when an Indian stalked out of the brush and ordered me to quit. "Then I saw there was an Indian encampment just outside the field, and that the Indians had torn down a panel of fence and turned the ponies in themselves. That made me good and mad! Too lazy or too proud to work, and expecting all kinds of favors from the settlers, they still thought they might destroy what white men had labored to produce! The Indians came out of their wigwams and jeered me. I was only about twelve years old, but knew what the Indians were capable of doing at times. Still I kept on chasing the ponies, for I had been sent to drive them out and the pride of the white race was in me compelling me to dominate and prove my superior- ity,— an unrecognized inheritance. "The Indian that had bidden me desist was stalking after and threat- ening me. Finally when the ponies found the open gate and began filing out to escape the stones I kept throw- ing at them, this Indian jerked his bow to position, and with an arrow drawn to the head, told me he would kill me if I did not leave the ponies alone. "It was a heavy bow such as they used in hunting, and I knew if hit with an arrow from it I would be transfixed, but I also knew Indian psychology, though I had never heard the word, and that it would not do to weaken under a threat, so I went right on driving them, though I will admit I was badly frightened. "I heard some shouting from the camp, could not distinguish the words, but thought of course they were urg- ing him to shoot me, but I chased the last pony out and went out myself and was swinging the heavy gate into place, when an Indian grabbed me from behind. I jerked away from him and finished shutting the gate, and turned and faced my captor.

Feb., 1929 AN INDIAN EXPERIENCE 309 "It was a Medicine Man I had met on a rather notable occasion. We both involuntarily grunted recogni- tion, and stood and eyed each other for a full minute, and it was a struggle to keep him from out-staring me. "By this time most of the Indians from the encampment had arrived, and also the Indian with the bow and arrow. They held a small 'pow- wow,' and while not understanding many of the words, I knew that some were for killing me, and others, among them, the Medicine Man, were oppos- ing it. "Finally the Medicine Man turned to me and said in fairly good English: " 'The good, blue grass that grows among these oaks all belongs to the Indians, from the white man's lodge of logs to far over the mountains, does it not?' "I studied that over a few minutes and then said: 'Yes, I guess it does.' 'Then why do you chase our ponies off from the very best place to eat?' " 'Well, what about our wheat?' I asked assuming as turbulent an air as I could. "My questioner paused a moment and then said: Our ponies are not raised to be dishonest as your cows are. They come up the canyon and eat all the Indian grass,' and he made very graphic signs and motions, like a greedy cow trying to bite every bunch of grass in sight; and it would have been funny at a less critical time. 'Our ponies eat only what belongs to them,' he continued, — 'just the grass among the oaks.' "I made a sufficiently expressive grimace and waved my hands so con- temptuously that it was almost equal to calling him a liar. "He seemed to want to convince me, so after a slight pause he said: ' 'If our ponies eat a little wheat they do as the squaws do,' and he gravely gave a fine delineation of a squaw gleaning the scattered heads from the ground, and also of picking them up with a long, limber upper lip as the ponies do. "I laughed at his description, but you may be sure it was a somewhat sickly attempt. ' 'Who told you that you could fence the Indian's pasture and plant wheat?' "That was a poser! I did not know, so I said, 'If you would fence a field and plant wheat, we would not let our cows and ponies eat it, and if we did you would kill and eat them.' "The Medicine Man's brow grew dark with anger, and I felt sure I had said the wrong thing; and when a fellow is talking for his life, that is a regretable blunder. 'Who has killed the Indian's cattle, the deer?' "I knew but did not think it wise to reply. " 'Who killed all the buffalo that used to roam in vast herds over the country, giving the Redman food, tents and clothes?' he asked. "I knew it was white men, but did not care to add fuel to the fire that I saw smoldering in the Medicine Man's dark eyes. Then a bright idea came to me. " 'The white men who killed the buffalo are of the same tribe that fought my people and drove them away from their homes, so they came to live among the Utes.' "All the Indians but the Medicine Man gave a grunt of approval and 1 felt I had 'rung the bell.' 'Who catches all the fish, leaving nothing for the Indians?' he asked sternly, fixing me with his eagle eye. "I knew all about the fish, too. No one had ever suggested to me before that they belonged to the Indians or anybody else. It had always seemed to me that they were one of the benefi- cent gifts of God, and anyone who needed them, or wanted to, might ap- propriate them. I had been with older boys fishing and with them had jeered

310 IMPROVEMENT ERA Feb.. 1919 the Indians who were jabbing at the fish with a flint arrow head affixed to a shaft made of an elderberry cane; or when they did not have an arrow flint, they made a substitute of the almost iron-hard grease-wood. They seemed to know nothing about either barbed hook, line or bait, and the fish had to be pretty thick at even spawning time, for the Indians to make much headway with their clumsy methods. We fished with hooks and lines, it is true, but real hooks were scarce, and most of us used a home-made con- trivance— the tines of an old pitchfork worked over by a skillful blacksmith who put barbs on them. This on the end of a slender pole we called a spear; but when the blacksmith made several to be used on the same shaft, we called it a 'gig,' and in the hands of a prac- ticed boy it was very effective. "The Indians kept giving me a chance to answer their question, and as nothing that would help my cause presented itself to my mind, I remained silent, determined to ask advice as to our attitude toward these matters, if I ever got home again. 'All the service berries are ours, too,' the chief said somberly. 'When the 'Mormons' first came, our squaws would take big baskets full of berries and sell them to you people to get flour, bread and other things the In- dians needed. What did your people do? Found where our gardens that Manitou had planted for us grew, and took all they wanted, and said 'No,' to the squaws when they came to trade. The warriors took deer hides and beaver fur to sell and were cheated! What say?' "I could see nothing but truth in his statements, and knew most, if not all of them, were true. I felt like I belonged to a criminal race and had been convicted. In sheer desperation I said: ' 'Why don't you go and tell the bishop? That's what my dad does when someone does him dirt. He don't go and jaw the feller's kid.' "The Indians did not smile, but there was a faint lightening of the dark scowls that rested upon their countenances, and I took heart of grace, and said a lot about what the 'Mor- mons' had done for the Indians in con- tradistinction to what had been done by other white men. Til get the blacksmith to make you some gigs to catch fish, and if the squaws will say which patches of berries they are going to pick, we'll let the bishop know; and I believe he will see to it that they are left alone. Hasn't he given you Indians flour out of the tithing office when big snows come, even if you had laid around all summer? If one of us was too lazy or high-toned to plant and harvest grain, the bishop would come near letting us starve, and serve us right.' Where words failed me I did the talking with my hands. "The Indians were regarding me si- lently, but their hostility had lessened, and I was leaning against the field gate with my arms loped over a pole, trying to give them a convincing picture of perfect nonchalance. I tried to speak up like I was the grown man. 'When your squaws come to town we buy their berries and pine-nuts, and when they come with nothing to sell we feed them and the papooses, any- how. God made all the berries, pine- nuts, deer, buffalo and beaver, and we are his children, too, and he told us to come here.' "They were grouped between me and the road that led toward home, and I did not think it safe to attempt to go just yet, and do not know what might have occurred, if two men from town had not ridden up, and asked what was the matter. 'Nothing,' I said heartily. 'This is a big Medicine Man, and we are great friends. Is it not so?' I asked him, direct. "He looked at the guns across the

Feb., 1929 AN INDIAN EXPERIENCE 311 saddles of the new comers, looked at his warriors and at me, and a slow smile like a shadow of mirth just touched the corners of his grim mouth. He folded his blanket around him with great dignity and replied: It is so.' Then speaking to the men and in- dicating me: 'He has promised that the fire-worker,' and he made motions of handling and hammering hot metal, 'will make, — -' ('gigs,' I supple- mented) , — 'and teach my young men to catch many fish. Does he speak with a forked tongue?' 'No, his tongue is straight,' said one of the men. 'You will get just two gigs.' Then turning to me and speaking in a sort of dog-Latin school children of that day affected, he said: 'Great guns, Bub, when you promise a Lamanite anything, learn to limit the promise! Be definite or you will never get through paying.' 'What say?' asked the chief sus- piciously. 'Look here, youngster, you better get for home, or your mother will — ' and he made motions of switching me; whereat all the Indians laughed. "It is needless to say that I left with alacrity. The men sat on their horses and engaged the Indians in friendly conversation till I was a good mile down the canyon, and then went about their business, only pausing as i rode round the field to put up the fenc the Indians had torn down. "They knew I was being held prisoner by those Indians, but diplo- macy develops rapidly where peace is really desired. One wrong or accus- ing word might have precipitated a serious row. "I had rather tricked the Medicine Man into an avowal of friendship, but it held good as long as he lived. "When my father reported the mat- ter, the bishop came to see me, com- mended me, and advised that the affair should not be talked about. He had the blacksmith make a number of gigs and spears besides the ones I had prom- ised the Medicine Man, (which I pre- sented to the chief with my own hands) , and ordered that the extra ones be sold to the Indians as cheaply as possible. He told the boys to be kind and generous about showing the Indians how to use them, for the fish really were a gift of God, and the bet- ter we treated the Indians about them, the more there would be for us; and we believed him, and it was not long until they were beating us at our own game. The bishop in a men's meeting, also put a fair and definite price on all commodities the Indians offered for sale, and told the people of the town that he expected Church members to abide by it; and it was very generally observed." The things of the world are ever rising and falling, and in perpetual change; and this change must be according to the will of God, as he has bestowed upon man neither the wisdom nor the power to enable him to check it. The great lesson in these things is, that man must strengthen himself doubly at such time to fulfil his duty, and to do what is right, and must seek his happiness and inward peace from objects which cannot be taken away from him.- — Wilhelm pon Humboldt. Without the love of books the richest man is poor; but endowed with this treasure of treasures, the poorest man is rich. He has wealth which no power can diminish, riches which are always increasing, possessions which the more he scatters the more they accumulate, friends who never desert him, and pleasures which never cloy.- — John Alfred Langford.