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 si\iJTciii'Js or MO i>i:n?f INDIAN LfFi:. 
 
 I!V lAllIEK A. IJIOMKDI. 
 PREFACE. 
 
 'I'liL' lolliiwini; pities, stive Home trilling iulditioim, werf wrillcn in ''-"'' 
 tlit'ir coiitciilH, tlicrefore, iiiiist lie referred tu tliut period and noi iipplitil 
 to later developments. Such changes, as are now to he t'oimd in our 
 missions, huve all taken place since tlien. The means of communication 
 Willi the Indian countries of Washiiii^lon and Idaho have so increased 
 Willi immigration, that an old settler would no longer recognize the lo- 
 cality unless he has kept up with the march of improvement. 
 
 This fact nuisl he borne in mind in order that the ditllcullies whicli he- 
 set me in travelling through the Indian country may be understood and 
 appreciated. 
 
 What I describe in these pages, I either saw myself, or, if communi- 
 cated to nic by others, whether missionaries or Indians, 1 have been care- 
 ful to credit to th(.' proper authority. 
 
 I trust that my simpU' narrative uuiy jirove interesting and may aid in 
 imparling; a irue idea of the Indian characler with its good ipialities as 
 well as its failings. 
 
 INTKODUCTION. 
 
 Ten years spent in missionary labors among the " red nu'n of the for- 
 est" of the "great norlliwest" having cp.abled me to speak from personal 
 experience, some details of what has fallen under my own observation 
 may prove not unintc-resling to dwellers in towns. It uuiy also hi' useful 
 in aiding them to form a truer estimate of the nature and disposition of 
 the Indian, as well as of his capabilities for civilization. ° plan is, after 
 having brielly indicated the geogr!i|ihical position of liie scene (>f my 
 labors to s|)eak first of the Indian in his origini^ and unchristiani/.ed 
 <;ondition, giving sonic idea of his habits, customs, amusements, language, 
 ideas of government and of the rights of prop«'rty, then to describi^ a tribe- 
 converted to (Christianity, but still living after its own fashion. As a 
 sample of the work of the missionary and of how it is accomplished, I 
 
 X C 4- 1- 
 
sKF/n ifi:s Oh M(U>r:N\ /.\/)/A.\ i.iri:. 
 
 sliall j;iv<^ \\ detail of one of the JourneyB wliicli I whb in the habit of 
 niakiii!^ twice and even three liniCH ii year, and sliall coneliide with an 
 account of tiic most civili/.ed trihe to lie met with in my province. 
 
 I must, li'nvcver, preface my recital i)y stilting that what I .m goinj^ to 
 Hiiy should not Ix^ ajiplied indiHcrirninately to all LndianH, I)mi only to what 
 miiilit he termed one family, which, dinlriliuled into several trilics, is scat- 
 tered over a large tract of land lyinj; to n {jreat extent, along the western 
 slope of the llocky Mountains, partly American soil and partly lielonging 
 to the " British I'ossessions." Tln^ trilie dispersed along the St. Mary's 
 river, takiii;; in a part of the Jocko Valley which lies within the " Flat- 
 Head Keservntiou," ifocs by the name of Flat-Ihiul Seli»h. The Pend 
 Oreille, whose Indian name is Hinkd.tekHinelchinti, are to bc! found along 
 Clark's Fork, as far as the Pend Oreille Lake. Thence, extending north- 
 westwards towards the mountains that divide the CaUitpelem from Fool's 
 Prairie, tiie Indians form an independent tribe taking the name of Caliitiiet. 
 The Siuiicisti or Lake Indians occupy that tract of land which extends 
 from Flat How Lake aloni; tlie Columbia river to Kettle Falls; and many 
 small tribes roam alouLi; tlie Columbia river from Kettle Falls down to 
 Lake Cheilan, which, although iudeiiendent of eacii other, and known 
 under ditferent names, are usually classified by Americans under the gen- 
 eral term of Columbia Indians. The same is true of those other small 
 tribes which are scattered all nlium from the mouth of the Okinagan river 
 to the lake of the same name in tlie British jjossessions ; they are all 
 termed Oklnairan or Okinakciin. All these havi^ undo\ibtedly sprung from 
 the same family, speakinir the same language and marked by the same 
 characteristics, and consequently are all eciually capable of the same edu- 
 cation and civilization.'' 
 
 Although but few of the Indian tribes are to be found to-day in their 
 aboriginal condition, still the semi-civili/ed manner in which the majority 
 of them live is more akin to it than to the haltits of civilized life. Some 
 of tliem, the C(di»pel,}in and the ]nti/iiiri,niiWi;i\ as the I'lhinitem Indians 
 and a portion of the Pend Oreille, are still nomadic and do not live in 
 permanent seltlements. The lodge is their portable home, and tiieir po- 
 nies are always at liand to transport it wherever the master may direct. 
 What they call their home, is the spot fre(iuenled by their fathers, or even 
 a place of their own sdection, merely because they happen to spend there 
 a comparatively longer portion of time than elsewhere. The C(Uii>i>elem 
 
 I'' I'Ihi trilitsiirdiiiKl ilu'Cohiiiiliia liver luul its tril)Utiirio.s dorivc tlieir iiamcH from 
 till' slriiiims wliiist' Ijimks Itioy iuliuliil, all llio way from their entrance into the ('<)■ 
 Inniliia river up to their rcspeolive source'-. So Ihe Chell;iii, the MilKawl. the .Sim- 
 puelsli, the .^^pokane, tile S(;oielpi, the Siiiilt;ami. and the Nesplelem are all to be 
 round .Maltorud aUmj; rivers ol the same names. The Cnur d'Alene, who arc at pres- 
 ent settled in nuinerons farms on camr.s prairie. <lerive their name from the (j'o'ur 
 il' Alenc rivir anil mountains, where they dwelt l)efore eiviiizatloii became l<iiown to 
 them. 'I hey hcloni; to the same family and their Indian luime is Schttii, .^t. Chit.siii 
 
 tl 
 
S/CETCHES or- MO/)EKy /N/)/.I.V l.ll-E. 3 
 
 IndinnB, for instance, cull the valley known l)y the name of GfUtKpeu.p., 
 tlieir home, and yet they live there only from late s|>rint; till early autumn. 
 They make there, durini^ the aiimnier, th<;ir provision of camas and in 
 the fall dlBperse aljout the inoiintainB in pur.suit of ifftine. They spend 
 the winter niontliB in a place called by them Emuxhitin, where they have 
 plenty of fuel and are well sheltered from the winter storms. In the 
 spring they disperse again uloni; the river and around the mountains of 
 the Pend Oreille Lake to hunt during a few weeks. 
 
 ClIAri'KK I. 
 
 Pagan fndiaiis. 
 
 The m.inncrs ami costumes of the Piis4an Indians arc in- 
 deed most iieciiliar. Dancinfjand L^amblinL,r hold so promi- 
 nent a position amont; them as to first claim our attention. 
 An Indian dance bears no resemblance whatever to the same 
 amusement as practised among the whites ; in facl, it is so 
 totally unlike it, that they have entirely different words to 
 express them. Towards the close of autumn, the Indians 
 begin to gather into winter ([uarters, and at about Christmas 
 or New Year the dances begin and are prolonged through- 
 out the entire winter, the people passing from camp to camp, 
 and from tribe to tribe for the purpose of taking part in 
 them. They are undoubtedly a most successful means, in- 
 vented by tlK devil, for the corruption of morals ; since the 
 licentious way in which they are conduced and the extra- 
 ordinary concourse from other tribes, which crowds so many 
 together in the same lodge, are fruitful sources of unspeak- 
 able evils. As an illustration of this, I will give some de- 
 scription of these scenes, omitting such details as would be 
 offensive to christian modesty. 
 
 The tent for dancing, erecteil in a prominent position 
 within the camp, is both long and wide, having the capacity 
 of four or five lodges or more. That which I saw at the 
 confluence of the Okinagan and the Columbia rivers, would 
 measure more than thirty feet in length antl over twenty in 
 width. These tents are made b)' driving poles into the 
 ground, and stretching around them skins or canvas, about 
 the height of a man's head, or a little higher.; the top is left 
 entirely open. In a row down the centre are three places 
 prepared for fires, and the space on each side of these, which 
 is about eight or nine feet wide, is covered with branches of 
 soft pine ujion which are spread blankets and buffalo robes. 
 This constitutes the dancing floor. The young wild In- 
 dians, although it was fearfully cold, the tlieraionieter rang- 
 
i 
 
 1 sk'ETciiKs or- Aro/)/:A'y av/v./a' /.//-/■:. 
 
 iw^ fruin iS" to 20° below /.cro, were clothed about the 
 waist only, the rest of the body bcin^f jjainted either red, or 
 ill stripes; in such attire they enjoyed the wintry breezes. 
 Their necks and wrists were adorned with strings of beads, 
 whilst their heads were encircled with eaj^Ies' lathers, or 
 sometimes a tail hat made of the skin of a coyote or pole- 
 cat towcreil above them. Their horses also must have (or- 
 naments api)ro])riaLe to the occasion; some of them were 
 painteil either brij^ht or dark red ; one had his ears cropped 
 and another was bereft of his tail for beauty's .sake. Nmos- 
 itse, chief of the Cheilans, a most powerful man but of very 
 bad character, came to direft the s])irit-dance in person. 
 The preparations beint^ complete, and the ijuests from the 
 neiijhborinL^ tribes havint; arrived, the proceedings were in- 
 aui^urated by a supper, after which, at about nine o'clock, 
 they ailjourned to the tlancini; tent, and as it was not suffi- 
 ciently capacious to accommodate them all, the very old 
 people and children were excluded. Then yoimj^ anil old, 
 min^dini; indiscriminately, without any tlistinftion of .se.v, 
 look their places. They were .so closely packed, that it 
 seemed to me im])ossil)le for anybody to move. I then 
 learned that their tl.uice did not mean movement, ot turning 
 .irounil ; tliey stood with their arms raised, anil their thumbs 
 touchini,f their shoulders, the only motion beini; the moviuL; 
 of the u|)per part of the Ijody, up and down from the knees. 
 While this was i^oini^ on and all (;yes were watchin}^ with 
 intense anxiety for the entrance of the " meilicine man," a 
 voice was heard in the distance, hummiiiL;' an Indian tune, 
 that is to say, a soni^ without words. As the spirit man 
 approached, thus sin!4in|^^ those inside endeavored to catch 
 up the same tune ; this lasted a short time, until the Sony; 
 had been learned by all the people who, in wild confusion 
 ,mi\ with most uncouth sounds were screaming at the top of 
 their voices. While all were sin;.^nni;, and the " medicine 
 man " was i^oin;.; arouiul the outside of tiu; lod_i;e, pretendin^^ 
 to be a s[)irit in .search of an entrance, .lUotlier man, called by 
 the Indians the inter|)reter, whose loud screamiuL; sounded 
 above the din of all the other voices, was tellin^r the people 
 what such a " medicine man " had received from the world 
 of the s|)irits. When he at last entered, the scene at once 
 ehauLjeil, all tiuiied low.u'ds him as huni^ry wolves upon 
 their prey, extendiiiL; their necks tow.uds him and imitatin^f 
 the snappin;4 of Indian doL;s, who.se b.irk, when they are 
 an!4ry, their son^ resembled. The " medicine m.m " stooil 
 in the midst of that |)ack of human hounds and took out 
 the little bai^ in which he kept his .sacred charm and shak- 
 ing it, as if to stir up the .spirit which it represented, coni- 
 
 ei 
 a 
 
SKETCIIKS OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 niantlccl silence. Tlicn he beijan to experiment with his 
 superstitious performances, which we would call sorcery. 
 A sick man was slipped into the tent amon;^ the people, so 
 that they mi^ht witness tl.e power of the spirit man and see 
 for themselves, whether or not he was able to c:{(cci an in- 
 stantaneous cure. The " medicine man " then bet^an to shake 
 his charm, or as the Imlians call it Sonws/i, ami to sin^ a 
 sonij in order to invoke the power of the spirit. He spat all 
 over the sick man, and then beijinnini; to i^^row excited and 
 wild, he rushed at him, seized him Ijy the head with one 
 hanil and by the throat with the other as if to choke him, 
 and finally approaching his mouth to that of the patient, he 
 blew powerfully into it as thouijh thus to communicate to 
 him the healing virtue of the spirit which he himself pos- 
 sessed. Hy this time the sick man was worked up to the 
 most excited condition; his hair stood on end as thou<;h 
 charijed with eleflricity, and with the strenLjth imparted by 
 the excitement he bej;an to throw dirt at the s|)e6lat(jrs and 
 to make use of the foulest lan_i;uatj;e. until, at length, he fell 
 back exhausted upon his buffalo robe. Meanwhile, the 
 people watched the whole ])roceeding most attentively, an.x- 
 ious to see whether a cure would be effecled. 
 
 Some one maybe curious to know whether they ever did 
 succeed in curin<; diseases. The Indians themselves certainly 
 have yreat faith in the power of those who profess to have 
 received the spirit and who are called " medicine men." If 
 a cure results from their experiments they will receive a 
 horse in payment; if not, then they have nothini^ for their 
 trouble. One case fell under my notice. A boy of about 
 eighteen years, named Theodore, was shot with an arrow by 
 a younjj^ man to avenj^e his wile's honor; he was hit near 
 the heart, and in drawini^ out the arrow the irt)n point re- 
 mained in the wound, aiiil >vhile still bleetlint^, he was 
 brought to my room to be shown to me. I saw the wound 
 from which the blood was tlowiuL; freely, and after a while 
 several people came to me sayinij that he was dying; no 
 t>ne thouj^ht that he coukl live. The next mornini^ his 
 friends calletl in a " medicine m.in," who ajjplied his reme- 
 dies and was paid with a horse. T.'<e seconil tlay after the 
 occurrence, I saw youni; Theodore sitting; on a fence and 
 walkinLj about as well as if he had never been hurt. I did 
 not see, however, whether the wouiul had disa|)peared, nor 
 whether the iron point had been extracted ; neither did I 
 see whether the cure had been effefted by sucking the blood, 
 as an Indian told me, or by the use of some in.strument. 
 What I do know is that these " medicine men " are a good 
 deal smarter than tlie average Indian, and often possess ccr- 
 
rt sKi.ii iii:s <>/■ i/o/'AA'v /.x/>/.i.\ /.//■/■: 
 
 tain tiirks wliicli, imkiiown to ollurs, aiv |)(il)lislu:il Ijy tliciii 
 as a superior poufr lU'iivid fiDiii tlic spirit world. On ac- 
 coiinl uf the i^ifts attrihiitcil to thciii, they are looked up(/n 
 with a eertaiii awe and in many cases heeoiue chiefs of small 
 tribes. 
 
 nancin;^ is (|iiile an e\|)ensive piece of Imsiness, because 
 people llockiiiL; in from all din^clions to take |)art in it, have 
 to he fci\ at tlu' cost of the e.imp in which it takes plaee ; 
 accordiiiL,' to the best of m\- knowledi^e they are ;^fotten up 
 in the s.ime camp only two or three times diirini; the course 
 uf the winter. 
 
 CitinthliH}:;. — fumbling is i^oini; on all the time and that 
 to tlu- fullest extent. Lod|^es for that piir|)ose are to he 
 {u\\\\v\ in almost every camp. Altlu)Uj.jh carried on chiefly 
 by men, it is not confined to the in, women and children 
 sometimes indulL,nn;^r jn the same pastime. Men sometimes 
 ;4amble with cards, but their favorite i,Mme i.s Nie/a/koni, or 
 the stick Ljame, which is playctl in this way. The people 
 assemble in a lod_t;e, arrans^e themselves in a circle and tiicn 
 be^in to sing the Indian tune, which is a prelude to the 
 Ljame. This done, one of the tjjamblers takes two small 
 sticks, about one fourth of an inch thick and two inches 
 long, to one of which a long thread is attached, and holds 
 them, one in each hand, in such a way as to show the thread 
 pas.sing through the fingers of both haiuls. The others 
 must then guess in which hand is the stick to which the 
 thread is fastened, l-'xcitement reaches a high pitch before 
 guessing begins, ami singing and yelling will go on for sev- 
 eral minutes before anyc^ne will \enture to guess. The man 
 who guesses right, gains one point and lo.ses one if wrong, 
 and when the number agreed upon is reached, the game is 
 over. 
 
 In horse gambling they have tlie very peculiar custom of 
 staking a part of the animal ; for instance, they will begin 
 with one foot, then with the other, and so on to the neck 
 and head, which will transfer the whole animal to the win- 
 ner. This occupation is continued througliout the niglil 
 and is such a disturbance to the camp, on account of the 
 screaming and yelling accompanying it, that tho.se engaged 
 in it are fre([uently sent off in disgust to a tlistance where 
 they cannot be heard. This is a fearfiil passion among the 
 Indians. They will first gamble away all their property, 
 such as horses and stock, tlien the provisions which their 
 wives have laid in, and even their very garments, .so that 
 they arc left almost destitute of clothing. A man lost in 
 this way all that he possessed, even his wife's wearing a()- 
 
 thi 
 
sKF.rrirKs or .iro/yrff.v rxniAx life. 
 
 t)n^ the 
 
 parol, and tliiall)- his <nvii, so that he was left in an aban- 
 (loiUMJ hut lor a couple of liays, exposed to the incleiueney 
 of the weather aiul made the lauL,diiii!,r-stock (jf his com- 
 panions. Once, when I was amon<,r the Okina^ans an In- 
 (h'an staked and lost my saddle-horse. The winner started 
 off to catch him as he was [^n'azinj^ upon the ])rairie, and was 
 boldly riding aw; / upon him when I happened to see him. 
 1 took hold of the bridle and tried to make the man get off, 
 tellin-^ him that the horse was mine, but he claimed tliat he 
 liad won him in L,fambling. I tiien told him that whoever had 
 !.,faml)letl my hi>rse was a thief, and if he did not jump off at 
 once and let him alone, I would call the Catholic chief who 
 would Ljive him a i;ood floy;4ing. Hearin^^ this, he con- 
 cluded to Ljet off and L,n"\e up tlie horse to me. 
 
 It is curious to see how these [gamblers make a livin<^. 
 l"'rom the numberless complaints made to me by the people, 
 I ascertained that the tricks, to which they resort for this 
 ])urpose, are most astonishing. They will watch until they 
 know that all the grown people have left a loilge, and then 
 they will walk in and carry off everything that they can lay 
 their hands upon ; fuel and eatables especially are sure to 
 disappear, also blankets and sometimes buffalo robes. The 
 thief will bring his booty to the gamblers' lodge and there 
 he will either share it with his comrades, or else gambli- it. 
 They generally become jjretty desperate cases, and if whis- 
 key once gets among them they become the terror of the 
 neighborhood; even the chiefs dare not proceed against 
 them and often suffer theft and insult from them. Gambling 
 is decidetlly their worst passion, the root of more evils than 
 even whiskej- ; it is the cause of stealing and ([uarreling and 
 brings ilistress upon many families. The Indian who gam- 
 bled my riding horse, and another who did the same with 
 V. Louis Van/ina's coat, were scamps of the worst charac- 
 ter. God afterwards punished them by the hands of human 
 justice when, having been con\ii-led of murder, they were 
 executed b)' the sheriff 
 
 A curious thing about this gambling is, that men seem 
 more addicled to it at certain stages of life than at others. 
 For instance, a bo)-, of from fourteen to sixteen jears, might 
 indulge in it jjorhaps occasionally, but only on the sly. If 
 he wants to marr)-, he must abstain from it entirely, because 
 no one would ber.tow a daughter in marriage upon a gam- 
 bler. Wi<Iowers also, who are known to have been given to 
 this vice, must refrain from it, sometimes even for years, 
 before they can have any chance of marrying again; and if 
 not sufficiently prudent in this respe6l, they run the risk of 
 remaining single for the remainder of their lives. But om e 
 
sA-Frr//rs of i^ronrRx indtan t.wn. 
 
 mnrric-d, ,111(1 Iiavinj,' bcliavcd well for jjcrliaps a year or two, 
 tluy ritiini, in most lascs, to tlii'ir old habits, and ^■^^^ on 
 li-a<liiit; a had lilc, until tlic)- reach about the a^a- ol" forty. 
 After that they be<.mi to sober down and to behave well. 
 Little In- littli' they bej^in to be eonsidi-red respertahte 
 anion^f the Indians; so niiich so as to take ])art even in the 
 dirertion of the afliiir.-i of the tribe. Soinetinies they will 
 eulti\ate ,i small pii'ce of i^romid and raisi- a few bnshels of 
 potatoes, or some water-nielons and onions. The)- will then 
 he pnt down on tin. list as " jfood Indians." 
 
 Anotlur peenliarit)' of this Ljainblin;4 is that it seems to 
 Ljrow with tile seasons, and may he said to reaeh its hei^jlit 
 dmint,' the -.iiinmer time, wlu-n the people colleft in order 
 to \\v^ eamas or to fish. Sometimes as many as a thousand 
 Indians will be leathered about the ir . '/ of the Okinaj.jan 
 river, at the time w lun the white salmon i;o uj) the Coliini- 
 l)ia river. All the old nun, an sometimes the youn<f also, 
 fish steadily from earl\- in the mornin;^ till late in tlu' after- 
 niKPii, There .ui' two in eaeh canoe; one keeps it steady 
 in the wattM, and the other, with no other elothin^f than such 
 as nature' has provided, holdinn in his hand a loiv^r stick 
 monnteil with an iron point and hook, watches for the s;il- 
 moi: toinuKui) the ruer. y\s soon as one ])a.s.scs within 
 his rea< h, he hooks it out of the water, or kills it first and 
 then TisIrs it out. It is an interestin;^ spectacle to see those 
 wild children of the woods in their frail canoes, dottini; the 
 river b.inks, or, wherever the stri'am flows (|uietly, now 
 watchiuL; with fi.\-e<l earnest attention, now darting' out with 
 the swiftness of an arrow to follow the coin-se of a dyinjj 
 s.ilmon, until they dra;^ it out with a loud wild shout of joy. 
 
 During the salmon season ^atnblers flock to the fisheries 
 fioni all directions. DurinL,^ the day many an Indian .spends 
 his time in horse racin;^, and during the ni^dit in a game 
 called iSlfia/koiii, the j^ame of the sticks, which has already 
 been explained. All the youn<.( men of the tribe, with few 
 e.xeeptions, will invariabl>- take part in these raci-s and are 
 proud to measure the s[)ee(l of their ponies with that of well 
 known racers. Hettinu;- and stealin^^ then prevail to a lar^'c 
 e.xtent, not unfrt.(pientl\- ending in a fight. Professional 
 gamblers an- rich to-da\- and poor to-morrow ; but the only 
 one, who to m\- knowletlge ever made a fortune by gam- 
 bling, was onr of the chiefs of a tribe, who, many years ago, 
 after having won a large number of horses, quit the profes- 
 sion to enjoy his winnings j)eacefully. Their racers are held 
 at a very liigh \alue and often exchanged for as many as ten 
 ordinar)' hcses. 
 
 The women are somewhat industrious and attend to the 
 
sk'F.TCfrrs or ^rnnFf?.y mn//iK t.tfe. ft 
 
 raising of their childivn, in as much as thcv jM-ovidc them 
 with food and clotliini;, l)ut thi-y Iiav(.' no idi.-a wliatcvcr of 
 rdiicatioii, wiictlu;r in iiior.ils or in rclij^fion. A chiki is 
 |Krrfcrtly fix-e. tciidorly loved l)y his mother, and is very 
 seldom piiiiislied for misbehaviour ; aUlioiiLjh now and thi'ii, 
 if laii^rht in some misciiief, he may l)e reproved for it. The 
 women are always dieentl)' clad, nor does it ever happen 
 that they disrei^anl modesty in the presence of others. No 
 matter ho-v wild the little twirls may he whilst playing around, 
 howiver, the) ,' re always careful to he modest. This reijard 
 for public ik>'. ncy mii^dit su^^i^est the idea that Indian 
 women, in tl.eii native state, are models of jjuiity, and yet 
 tile case i; ju.st the n.-vors^,. They liave not in their lanijuaijc 
 the woi>. purit>'. as ii, :.ininL,r chastity, hut only an expression 
 which means .v/',,i,'/(, Stiirhiiiis/i, which has been adopted hy 
 Christian tr'Nes to si^niify chastity, (^ne tiling, which often 
 surprised me. was to sei- parents jiroposin;^ cows, horscrs and 
 other animals to ^heir children, as models for their actions. 
 They kiss their littk; ones by lickin;^ them with the tongue. 
 I once .isk('d a woman why sIk lid so, and she answered 
 me th.it as the tow licks her own calf for love's .sake, she 
 seemed to think th.it she should do the .same. 
 
 I can Ljive not a few details of the ways of li\in<.j durint^ 
 the sprin;^'. The Indi.ms scatter .about through the moun- 
 tains to leather fruits or to hunt, and .seldom meet in large 
 numlu'rs. (ienerall)' one, or ;it most two lodj^es, ha\e their 
 chosen spot, often very remote, which they call their lands, 
 and where they spend this season. At such times <{ambiers 
 are sure to rally from man)' tribes, and form centres all 
 through the Indian country, in order to rob each other or 
 to steal the provisions of some one who has made the fust 
 step towards civilization. The)' are such bad characters 
 that it is better to avoid, than to have anythuiij to do with 
 them. 
 
 GOVKKNMKNT. 
 
 to the 
 
 ilavins^r described the cu.stoms and amusements which 
 represent, as nearl)- as possible, the present ways of unciv- 
 ilized and p.iyan Indi.ins, something; about tneir ideas of 
 LjoVernment m.iy be worth knowing;. The)- are f^overned 
 by a chief who is eletled, and their laws are the customs 
 and tra<lit'ons h.mded iknvn to them from their forefathers. 
 When election time comes the old chief will tjenerally u.sc 
 his influence to have his eldest son chosen as his successor 
 which fre(|uently happens. The assembly meets, and the 
 (pialities of the new candidate are minutely discussed. If 
 tiierc be not any hoi)e of comintj to a unanimous conclusion, 
 
sk'F.TCirr.s or modfra^ /ndmn ftfr. 
 
 tlic (lobatcs arc pioloni^cd ; and when the large majority, 
 say ninc-tfiiths of the men, and in some cases also of tiie 
 married women, aijrce upon a candidate, each one is formally 
 (luestioned by an Indian appointed for that purpose. Then 
 each answers : " That is my chief," or " eu," which means 
 yes, and when all ha\e ri'plied, the election is concliRJcd. 
 So very strong is their natural love of independence, that, 
 when one or two dissent from the common decision, the 
 general vote is not capable of overcoming them. 
 
 I was once talking with a man named Nzidetiku,"\\\c 
 wolf of the water," and the conversation turning upon a 
 certain chief, 1 happened to remark: " Well, he may be a 
 gi)0(l one." " Who made him a chief," said he, " I was not 
 here when he was elected." So he refused to acknowledge 
 his aulhorit)-, and when he needed any help he would go 
 to one of the sub-cliiefs, whom he had elected himself This 
 incident shows liow little the authority of the chief is really 
 worth, although it is true the case is different, if he happens 
 to be rich and is liberal in feeding the people. Under these 
 circumstances, when he wishes to accomplish some purpose 
 within the tribe, he assembles the most popular and influen- 
 tial men and gives them a good dinner, and then, while 
 smoking their pipes afterwards, he easily persuades them to 
 do what he wants. 
 
 A secondary chief, sometimes, by treating the people in 
 this manner, can gain sucli an a.scendency over them, as to 
 be in realit\- the head of the tribe. Thus Se//is, by his liber- 
 alit\-, made himself the head of the Co.-ur d'Alene tribe and 
 prt)\i(l to be a \er)' successful governor. Hut if the chief is 
 poor, he has \er)- little power among his own jjcople, espe- 
 ciall)- in matters pertaining to the internal government of 
 tile tribe. I I(iwe\er, when (piestions arise with other tribes, 
 tiuii a sens(.' of regard for authority seems to arise among 
 them and the chii'f's word will be respected, be he rich or 
 poor, old or blind, pro\ ided he be still capai)Ie of advising 
 the tribe. 
 
 There is an illustration of this to be found in the " Flat- 
 Head tribe,' when there was (piestion of their removal from 
 Ilitter-Root Valley to the Jocko Res(.-r\ation. The chief, 
 C'ii.ules Louis, would not set the e.\ample of moving, nor 
 sa^awmd to encourage the people to emigrate, so they 
 remained in ilu- \.illey. Tin- otiier chli'f, Ar/ei\ who removed 
 to the reser\ation )'ears ,igo, was considered by tlu'in as a 
 usinper, although the goverm.ent recognizes him as the 
 head chief of the tribe. These circumstances have split the 
 tribe without ..,iy iuipe of reunion, l^xcept in sutli cases, 
 where nature plainly indicates the necessity of unity for 
 
SKETCHES OE AfODERN INDIAN T.IEE. 
 
 W 
 
 mutual protc6lion,thc chiefs autliority amounts to very little 
 unless sustained by accidental circumstances. 
 
 Gamblers steal from him and defy him with impunity ; 
 moreover, each one is as inde])endent in his own ways, as 
 though he were a chief himself. For the wild Indian there 
 is no restraint of any kind, save such as proceeds from fear. 
 Once a poor widow of the Sempuelsh tribe came to me, 
 thinking that I could help her in her misfortunes, and told 
 me that an Indian, by the name of Martin, had stolen .from 
 her a horse and all her winter provisions, and that she had 
 a child who would starve, if these were not restored at once. 
 " Why don't you go to your chief for help," said I. " It is 
 useless," said she, " he cannot do anything." I did my very 
 best to induce that man to restore, at least, a part of the pro- 
 visions to the poor widow, but my efforts were unsuccessful. 
 
 Not only in case of robbery, but also in that of attempt 
 at murder, the chiefs authority is of very little account. 
 When, for example, anyone has been wounded in a fight, the 
 chief pays no attention to it, but the relatives of the wounded 
 man rally and give chase to the adversary and the fear of 
 this is the only check to acts of \-iolence. 
 
 An instance of this kind happened among the Calispelem 
 in the summer of 1S77, when the son of the second chief of 
 the tribe, to avenge his wife's honor, had injured a son of 
 the chief of police. The relati\es and friends of both fami- 
 lies rallied around the two young men, all armed as if ready 
 to go to war. I was very much surprised to see this and 
 fearful le.st serious trouble might ensue, especially, as the 
 two parties h.id se[)arated and set u[) their lodges apart from 
 each other. So, as soon as I heard about the matter, I 
 called Victor, the chief of the Iribe, who was considered to 
 have great influence, and In' a ^k:\\ energetic words endeav- 
 ored to arouse him to a sense of his duty. I told him to 
 do justice to those who deserved it, but to put an end at 
 once to such dissensions, which threateuetl to end in blood- 
 shed. He assured me tli.it he would not Ik- heeded. Then 
 I took up the subjeft in church, and by dint of alternate 
 scolding and persuading, and l)y t.dkiug privately with some 
 of the most iulluential men, I fin, illy succeeded in inducing 
 them to have a meeting and to settle the matter, that such 
 a scandal might not go on an\' longer. I, moreover, assuretl 
 them that 1 should rehise' to admit them to the sacniments, 
 if such enmity were not endid and peace and h.irmony re- 
 stored. They had several meetings, ;ind the result was a 
 general llagell.itioii lor such as deserved it; bloodshed was 
 thus avoided and peace and unit)- returned. Tlu' two young 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 men in iiucstion, thoiit^li punished, did not make friends at 
 that time, still they were powerless to break into o[)en fii;lit, 
 because no Ioniser sustained by their relatives. This instance 
 shows even more forcibly, how little inlluence the chief has 
 in his own tribe, as these people had already been Christians 
 for several )ears,an(l were far more law-abitlinj^^ than any of 
 their pas^an neiijhbors. 
 
 This lack of authdrity in the L;-overnment makes the fini- 
 ily association str(inL;er than that proper to civilized society, 
 and the want of i)rote6lion from societ)' is the chief expla- 
 nation i)f their polj-^amy. This the)- look upon as the 
 source of wealth and power, and, conseipiently, as the oriijin 
 of their more perfect! freedom and independence. If you 
 were to ask a wild Indian wliether he were rich, his answer 
 woulil [)robal)l)' surprise you ; for lie would tell j-ou that he 
 was poor if he had but one wife and k:\\ children, and rich 
 if he had several wi\es and many children, A man of the 
 Sinkaensi tribe, by tiic name of " Littk: Wolf," whi> was 
 (|uitc well off for an Indian, tohl iiu- that he was poor be- 
 cause he had onl)' one wife and six children. In the wax- 
 they live, the more wives they have, the more laborers there 
 an; to tan the skins of animals, and to prejjarc- tluin for 
 market; and the more numerous their children, the more 
 profit they will derive from lumtiiii; and fishiiit;, and tlu' 
 more soldiers they will have to protect tiieir relatives in 
 case of a collision of rijjjhts ; for their striMi^^th increases in 
 jjioportion to their numbers. 
 
 ( )nce, as 1 was preachin^f aj^ainst polygamy and tiyini;' to 
 induce ni)- hearers to abandon it, A'iuosiii\ the chief of the 
 Cheilan iiulians, rose up amoiiL; his people and t;ave me a 
 L,ro(jd scoldiiv,;, which (diinrms what I have ju.st been .sayin^^ 
 " You come here," said he, "to destroy us. Our polygamy 
 is the inheritance which we have received from our forefa- 
 thers. They were a i;lori(jus people, and had lari^e numbers 
 of hunters and fishermen and never knew what starvation 
 was. In war, they were stroii!.; and defeated their enemies 
 because they had many soldiers. \'ou came amonj.^ us and 
 have persuaded some of my people. They keep only one 
 wife aiul have few children. ( )ur hunters and fishermen 
 are disai)pearin^^ and in case of war we shall have no .sol- 
 diers. This is the evil of your speech." This kind of strenL;tli 
 ins[)ires the weaker [)eo[)le with fear anil commands tlie re 
 spe6l of .strangers. A lack of prote(!:l.ion from authoritv 
 accounts for the tendency to civil disunion, which makes 
 them naturally endeavor to strent^then family ties more and 
 more. 
 
 I''amilies will often separate from the bulk of the people, 
 
SA'ETCHES or AfODF.RX fXDIAX LIFE. 
 
 1.'! 
 
 and soon multiply to such ;in extent as to form new little 
 tribes, all the more to be feared because of the consanguin- 
 ity preserved anioni^st them. A man, by the name of 
 Koiit/tkan, had ten children ; he then withdrew from the tribe 
 of the Si^oii'lpi, obtaining; land on the west side of the Co- 
 lumbia river near Kettle river, where the family married and 
 increasetl to such numbers as to be almost intlejjendent of 
 the main tribe, and the old man becomin<f their natural 
 chief, reached what was the hei;^dit of f^lory for him. There 
 is another little tribe at about thirty-two miles from the Col- 
 ville mission which orij^nnated ver}- much in the .same way. 
 A man of the Sim|nielsh tribe, whom I did not know per- 
 sonally, had nine children who married, and all remained in 
 the .same place, workin;^ toijether and prote6linj^ each other, 
 so that now the [^nvuidchildren have multipled to such an 
 extent as to form an independent tribe, stationed aloni;" the 
 banks of the Coliuubia river at a place called by them Nrja/itn. 
 Thus even in my time, tribes have si)lit up and have in- 
 creased, whilst others, on tiie contrary, have diminished. 
 These facts, which 1 have explained, are sufficient to account 
 for there beint4', at present, so many tribes independent of 
 each other and yet so small, that the largest o( them num- 
 bers hardly a thousand persons. Between the St. Mary's 
 mission on the Bitter Root and Jakima, there are seventeen 
 such trii)es to be met with, which, no (loui)t, have all sprunt; 
 from the same oriijinal tamil)', as their lan_t,niaye is radically 
 the same, only diversified into dift'erent diale( is. 
 
 L.ANl.lAdK. 
 
 people, 
 
 The study of the Indian lan^aiai^e offers many points of 
 interest to the linguist. Vov instance, the \er)- difference of 
 dialecTs is indicati\e of the direftion taken by the tribes 
 when, havin;4 separated from the ])arent stock, they .scattered 
 over the lar.i;e tracl of territorj-, which I have already de- 
 scribed. The diveri^ence from the mother ton<^ue increases, 
 jroin^ westward from the l''lat-heads to Lake Cheilan ; the 
 last, however, is rather a mi.xture of the Calispeleni and 
 Jakima, man)- radicals haxiuL; been fouiul in the one whose 
 meaning is ulentical with those in the other, indicatiuij; a 
 common origin. You m.iy be curious to know what their 
 l:.nj;uaL;e is like? It is rather discordant, owin^ to the _L,ait- 
 tural ^, antl the wilil Inilians pronounce the k so harshly, 
 that no description of the sound approaches the reality. It 
 has also many unite xowels, but lacks .several of our most 
 common consonants such as; b, r, d, and f; anil another 
 peculiarity is that it contains very few ab.straft substantives. 
 
14 
 
 sk'i:Tcr/Es or .nonr.RX /\d/.i.\ i.ipe. 
 
 These ma)- l)c called its imperfedions, but it possesses otlier 
 ([iialities before vliich the prejudices naturally brouj^dit to a 
 stud)' of it, vanis (piickly. Its copiousness is soniethinL^ 
 wonderful. 
 
 The little dictionary which we have compiled and printed 
 for our own use, and which contains about five tliousand 
 words, can ^ive only some idea of it. Its regularity is sur- 
 ))risini^. There seem to be no exceptions to fi.xed rules for 
 the formation of verbs, and these which govern substantives 
 are almost etpially exaft, ver)' few ha\'ini,r any irregularity 
 in the formation of the jilural. Three points presented an 
 especial attraftion to my mind. Tiic first is the union of 
 different wortls into one b)' a combination of radicals made 
 accordin;^ to fixed rules, which is a beautiful peculiaritj-. 
 The second is the capability of transforming^ all substantives, 
 and even adverbs, into \erbs, accordin<,r to one or the otlu r 
 of the two conjuf^ations, and is a point of great interest tn 
 the linguist. The thirti (lualifii-.uion, superior to the otlurs 
 and concernini,r the unique method of formini^ verbs, re- 
 quires a few words of explanation. As the acticjn expressed 
 by a verb may be either transient or continued, so it has 
 different ways of expressing this, and different forms for 
 denoting whether the action terminates in a defineil or ex- 
 pressed objedt, or whether in an object which I do not wish 
 to express, but of which I intend to leave the mind of the 
 hearer ignorant. Other forn\s express whether the aflioii 
 Ik: done to a person directly or to him for the sake of a third 
 person; morecner, a determined inllecTiion upon the end of 
 a word ma\- mean the causalit}' of the aLT.ion, while the same 
 strt'ss updU the beginning of the word ma)- indicate the 
 moral obligation b)- which one is bound to pi'rform such ,iii 
 aft ion. 
 
 All these various forms which '■' no dd sei-m, nn'glu re- 
 ati- confiision in tlu' stud)- of thi .....iniage. after a littK' in- 
 sight into its character, become (juite ck:ar and are used 
 with laeilil)-, htcause of the fixed and positive iides b)' which 
 the)' are goMiiud. Moreover, it is so concise- ami exa( I in 
 the meam'ng of its i<hr;iseoIog)' ;is not to admit of misun- 
 derstanding, so that an Indian must speak either truth <>i- 
 falsehood. .So fir as the knowledge of the language wliidi 
 I liave aii|nired goes, I do not know of a singK' word which 
 is susceptil)Ie of misinterpretation oi which ailmits ol tun 
 different meanings. Of course the Indi.ins themsi'Ives ha\c 
 neither printed nor written kinguage and no books of tlnii 
 own, therefore such rules .is have been a|)plied to its ccn- 
 .stru(5tion, liave bei-n deviseil !))• thosi- who h;i\f first acijiiiic d 
 a knowledge of it as spoken b)- the nati\es, from continued 
 
 WllL'l 
 
 there 
 
 thev 
 
 land 
 
 the 
 
 they 
 
 claim 
 
 tion 
 
 the s 
 
 ha\in 
 
 to es 
 
 not 
 
 and 
 
 their 
 
 and 
 
 Thd 
 who \ 
 vet h 
 ally , 
 cattle 
 other 
 
srcETt /fEs oi- .)/<)P/:a'.x /xn/.i.x l/j-f. 
 
 15 
 
 rcsitlcncc among them. Tlic Indians have some kno\vlc(l_gc 
 of numln.Ts and all their mallieinatical problems are solved 
 upon their fingers. 
 
 The nature of tlieir language, which evidently belongs to 
 the .Semitic fann'ly, shows conclusively that the ancestors of 
 the Calispelem Indians must have came to America from 
 Asia. Hut since no trace of history is to be found among 
 them, we can only guess how they come and when they first 
 sit foot upon American soil. Perhaps it was b)- way of 
 Heiiring .Straits as the present Alaskan Indians go to .Sibe- 
 ria. Tiiey cross the straits, during tlie dead of winter, as I 
 have been told by an Alaskan missionary, when the waters 
 are frozen so solid that they are able to walk from one con- 
 tinent to the other. 
 
 TlIK Rif.llTS OF I'roi'kuiy. 
 
 I will conclude my account of the ways and customs of 
 pagan and semi-civilized Indians by giving a descri])tion of 
 their ideas of the rights of property. Weil behaved Indians 
 among the pagans, that is, elderly persons with large fam- 
 ilies, urged by the spirit of independence, the desire to be- 
 come chiefs, which is the very summit of glory in their eyes, 
 fre([uentl)- separate themselves from the main body of the 
 tribe. Then they will begin to look around them for a suit- 
 able place where there is plenty of feed for their ponies, and 
 where game and fish abound ; antl if there is no one living 
 there already, they will locate themseKes. Having done so, 
 they will make known to others that they have got their 
 land, and if the rest of the tribe see that they really do spend 
 the greater portion of the year in the spot claimed by them, 
 the)' will acknowledge the property to be theirs. But, if the 
 claim be not founded upon the real occupation and habita- 
 tion of the i)lace, some one of tlie tribe, who perhaps has 
 the same iclea, may like to take it for himself. e\en after 
 lia\ ing allowed a sufficient time to elapse for the other party 
 to establish himself there. The idea of occupation does 
 not extend merel\' to the spot in which they actually live 
 ant! its surroundings, but also to all which is needed for 
 their stock as well as for their su[)port in the way of feed 
 
 There was such a case in the Nez Perce tribe. A chief, 
 who had taken land in this way, had a good house and farm, 
 yvX he claimed for himself not only the land which he actu- 
 ally occupied, but also all the prairies and woods where his 
 cattle grazed or his horses were pastured. Afterwards, an- 
 other Indian came along and took up land on that prairie 
 
16 
 
 SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 for himself, thereupon the chief remonstrated and wanted to 
 expel him. The excitement over this matter ran so hi^h 
 that had not the a<^ent interfered, upholding the new settler, 
 no one knows what the result might have been. However, 
 unless the first occupant believes that he has a6lual need of 
 what he calls his land, he will not usually obje6l to others 
 livin;4 upon it, although his having been the first there, is 
 considered as giving him a sort of superiority over others. 
 
 With regard to the fisheries, the one who has first selefled 
 the spot and improved it, has to supply the implements, that 
 is, the baskets to catch the fish ; and he resides there or near 
 by, so that his claim may be held good by the tribe. This 
 property makes him who possesses it a chief, or sub-chief 
 
 KinkiDiakua chief of the Sgoidpsi and Peter Konchestitis, 
 sub-chief of the Catholic Spokancs, each has a fishery. 
 
 During the season, the work is general ; the men are 
 chosen in turn by the chief, some to make preparations and 
 others to watch the baskets day anti night, that they may 
 not be overloadetl ; others to haul them out of the water 
 and to kill and clean the salmon. Distribution is made by 
 the chief among the different fimilies present at the time, 
 with some regard also to the work of individuals ; and if the 
 fish should be very abundant, people of other tribes who 
 happen to be present are also sujjplied ; but if they arc 
 scarce, then they are distributed according to the amount of 
 assistance rendered by those who have caught them. An 
 indivitlual is forbidden to fish witii a spear in any [ilace 
 which will disturb the salmon or prevent their taking the 
 direflion of the basket, but anyone may do so at a suitable 
 distance where no harm will be done to the fishery, and in 
 such case the profit is his own. An Indian unable to per- 
 form the recpiireil work, either on account of his age or for 
 some other just reason, is supi)lied with almost as much 
 salmon as those who work, because such persons are con- 
 sidered obje6ls of common hel|) or charity. 
 
 The laws governing the hunting grounds ar^- different ; 
 they are held as private properly and for inilividual pmlil 
 during the hunting season, although at other times they are 
 open to anybody. The hunting ground is calletl istoligu or 
 " my land." Sometimes, though not fre(|uently, the owm;r 
 may allow some one else to hunt there with himself, if the 
 game shoukl be very plentiful, and occasionally, such grounds 
 are held in partnershij) ; then both parties pitch their tents 
 in the .same place and course around the same mountain. 
 In such cases the game belongs to the one who kills it. 
 
 In well behaved families the rights of property are (|uite 
 curious. When a son is born, he will be presented with a 
 
Sk'ETCHP.S OP MODERN INDIAN LIPE. 
 
 17 
 
 horse or steer ; if the child be a girl she will be <jiven a mare 
 or a cow, and the j^ift is made in such a way that in future 
 no one will <lare to touch it. The parents themselves so 
 respeft it, that if as the child f^rows up, he does not dispose 
 of it himself, they will never sell it or trade with it. In case 
 of need, however, if the parents were unable to sup[)ly the 
 child with food and clothing, they might dispose of it for 
 his benefit, even while he was too young to know anything 
 about it. 
 
 Such is the raw material to be transformed by those put 
 in charge of these tribes ; a class of people whose aim is 
 unbounded freedom, polygamous in their habits, gamblers 
 and thieves in their youth, licentious in morals, hating sub- 
 jeftion, and unwilling to listen to counsel. Is it possible 
 for such a race to become Christian, and to live up to the 
 precepts of the gospel ? As an answer to this cjuestion, I 
 shall now proceed to describe the habits of a tribe, which 
 has been Christianized without any material civilization, 
 nomadic in habits, and living upon the very same .social 
 footing as the pagans about them. I will leave my readers 
 to juilge for themselves whether, even in the forest, Christian 
 morality and virtue cannot be pra6lised. 
 
 Chapter ii. 
 
 ing the 
 
 suitable 
 
 and in 
 
 to per- 
 
 fe or for 
 
 much 
 
 A Piflure of an hidian Tribe Converted but not yet Civilized. 
 
 The Calispelem tribe presents a true pi6ture of uncivilized 
 Indians in what concerns temporal life; they are ln)wever 
 all Catholics. Imagine yourself my companion during my 
 visit to them about the beginning of November, the time 
 when they gather into winter quarters at Esniekotiii Ferry. 
 There you would find an Indian camp, composed of twenty- 
 five or thirty lodges, located upon the lower ridge of a range 
 of mountains, covered with woods, pine, tamarac and red 
 fir abounding, often clothed with a thick undergrowth and 
 well supplied with game. An Indian would tell you that 
 the winter was not very severe there, the spot being well 
 sheltered from storms, with an abundance of fuel all around 
 to keep them comfortable during the dreary weather. In 
 front of the camp runs the Pend Oreille river, which here 
 so spreads itself and flows so slowly as to have rather the 
 appearance of a small lake. On the east side of the river a 
 little house gives shelter to a ferry-man, who, from early 
 s[)ring until late in the fall is kept busy transporting the 
 pack-trains, which convey supplies to the miners in the Ko- 
 tonie country. 2 
 
18 
 
 SKETCHES OE MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 Crossing by this ferry, or, if you prefer, in an Indian canoe, 
 and reaching the west bank, we shall find ourselves among 
 these poor people. The first sound which will greet your 
 ear, will be the word of welcome, " gest sgalgalt " " good 
 day," and then you will behold the Chief, Victor, the very 
 pi6lure of laziness and dirt, issue forth from his tent and cry 
 aloud : Zgniiii Kuaialko Kolcliiz, " Come all : the black robe 
 is among us." Hearing this all the inmates of the various 
 wigwams will come out and slowly proceed to the chief's 
 tent to shake hands with the priest. The women will bring 
 their children, who are screaming with fright at the siglit of 
 a white man, and taking their little hands compel them to 
 shake hands with me. Remember, that you are my com- 
 panion, and do not be afraid if you see the Indians regard- 
 ing you suspiciously, and if they walk around you, and 
 .standing at a certain distance, scan you from head to foot, 
 now and then whispering a word among themselves. It 
 might appear to you as though they wished to do you some 
 harm, and yet they mean no ill will by such behavior; their 
 natural tliffidence, together with a certain awe inspired b)' 
 the presence of a superior race, is what keeps them at a tlis- 
 tance. Take courage, and approach them yourself; tell 
 them tliat you would like to stay a little while with them, 
 that you are interested in their welfare, and you will soon 
 see that they will treat you with the same friendship they 
 show me. The first introdu6lions concluded, you might be 
 curious to get a pee[) at the inside of their tents, but I give 
 you a friendly warning that it is better to remain outside, 
 for the filth, wretchedness and vermin to be found in there, 
 are beyond description. Their poverty is something e.xtra- 
 ordinar)' ; the little children have .scarcely any clothing at all, 
 and the men and women so little that it is pitifid to behold 
 them. The perpetual blanket fastened at the waist, or a 
 buffalo robe worn as a blanket, would give them a more 
 decent appearance and make them more comfortable during 
 such frosty weather. 
 
 With a view of learning something of their daily lives, 
 suppose we pitch our tent for a short time and watch their 
 proceedings. Early in the morning a blue smoke issuing 
 from their tents betokens tliat their re.st has ended, and be- 
 fore long you will hear the bell rung by the chief calling 
 them all to morning prayer. Then the " red skins" will be 
 seen slowly coming forth from their smoky dwellings, and 
 repairing, either to the chief's tent, or to the adjacent lodge, 
 where they will say their prayers in common, after which 
 they will sing a hymn to the Hles.sed Virgin. This being 
 over, the chief will address a few words to them, either re- 
 
 no l( 
 may 
 
 pack 
 make 
 they 
 the wc 
 
Sh'ETC/IKS or MOnilKN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 m 
 
 m canoe, 
 ;.s aiiion<; 
 cot your 
 " " [,rood 
 the very 
 t and cry 
 lack robe 
 c various 
 le chief's 
 A'ill brint; 
 e sitjht of 
 1 tliem to 
 my coin- 
 is rej^ard- 
 you, and 
 d to foot, 
 elves. It 
 you some 
 ior ; their 
 spired bj' 
 1 at a ilis- 
 rself; tell 
 ■ith them, 
 will soon 
 ship they 
 
 mit^ht be 
 ^ut 1 tjjivc 
 1 outside, 
 
 in there, 
 in<:j extra- 
 lintij at all, 
 to behold 
 »'aist, or a 
 ni a more 
 lie durint; 
 
 aily lives, 
 atch their 
 <e issuint; 
 (1, and be- 
 ief, callinc;" 
 s " will be 
 IlinjTs, and 
 :ent lod<fe, 
 fter which 
 This bein^ 
 e'ther re- 
 
 provin;^ them for misbehavior on some occasi(jn oi j^nvinjf 
 them titnely advice. Goin<^,r back to their tents they prepare 
 their breakfast, of which they partake at about nine o'clock. 
 They have all very ^ood a|)petites, and if anyone has hap- 
 pened to be kept on short allowance the day before, this first 
 meal is sure to make u|) for all that has been missed. After 
 the meal is over, some few moments ;ux' spent in chattin;^ 
 and smokin<,f pipes, after which the men i,renerally c,ret u]) in 
 a iiurry, fasten on their cartrid^re belts, and taking their rifles, 
 start off huntinf^. If the season recpiires it, snow-shoes will 
 be drawn oui iy^ i\\c'\Y pamJ/es/ies/A kinil of impervious wrai)- 
 [jer, made of deer skin, and thus accoutred they set forth. 
 A little later in the day you will hear the mother say to her 
 eldest son, Kiikslaskagae " ■go, look for the horses." The 
 boy, without answering a word, gets up, takes his lariat and 
 off he goes. In a short time he is back and several horses 
 stand before the lodge. The .same takes place in all the 
 other lodges. Then the women come out, sacklle the horses, 
 and while many take a.xes and go for fuel, others remain at 
 home sewing, washing, or tanning skins. You may also 
 see .some men starting for a trading post if it is good weather, 
 and some going to visit friends in other tribes, lunvever, the 
 horses are driven to the lodges every morning for some 
 pur[)ose. After these de|)artures the camp puts on quite a 
 different appearance. The children, from eight to fourteen 
 years of age, who have been left at home to keep the neigh- 
 bors' dogs out of their own tents, that they may not steal 
 the provisions their parents have laitl in, will have their own 
 sport, playing on the snow or shooting at obje6ts with their 
 arrows, or running about in games until their jiarents and 
 sisters return from the woods. You will notice that the 
 loads they bring back promise to last a couple of tlays and 
 no longer. Often also, at about the same time, the men 
 may be seen returning from their hunting expeditions, carry- 
 ing i)erhai)s dressed deer on their horses, or a canoe well 
 laden with game will approach the river bank. The men 
 leave their horses near the loilge or their canoes near the 
 shore, as the case may be, go into the lodge, sit ilown, begin 
 to smoke their i)ii)es, and then say to their wives, " I have 
 brought game." The wife and daughter then go out, un- 
 pack the game, bring it into the lodge, and by so doing 
 make it their own [)roperty ; they can sell it or trade it as 
 they please. The fur however belongs to the man, although 
 the woman has to tan and prepare it for market. After sup- 
 per, which is tal-en early in the evening, the bell summon- 
 ing to evening prayer is heard, and the people will either go 
 to the chief's lodge, or say their prayers at home. Often 
 
9D 
 
 SKETCHES OF MO PERN IN P IAN LIIE. 
 
 you will hear the cliicf from his lodfje addressing his people, 
 either upon some reli^fious subjefl or in regard to fidelity to 
 their own customs and traditions ; then those in the other 
 lodges will make their own remarks, and afterwards the 
 evcnin<^ is spent in conversation upon topics interesting^ only 
 to themselves. Such is the plan of their ordinary life. 
 
 The <^reat event of the winter with them, is a hunt, in 
 which the entire tribe is cntjagcd, the <Tcneral direflion of 
 which belongs to the chief who designates the time for .start- 
 ing. They catch their horses and bring them in a few days 
 beforehand, and on the day preceding their departure takes 
 place the .solemn ceremony of the burning of moccasins. 
 All the old moccasins are coIlc6ted and placed in a heap, 
 which is then .set on fire, while all standing around it say 
 a prayer together that God may be propitious to them dur- 
 ing the chase. When the moccasins are about half destroyed, 
 they arc taken still burning out of the fire and distrib- 
 uted among the hunters, each one of whom secures a good 
 supply of them, and then .starts off according to the direc- 
 tions he has received from the chief. 
 
 The meaning of this cu.stom is illustrative of Indian .sa- 
 gacity and keenness of perception. The obje6l of the hunt 
 is to drive the deer in from their fastnes.ses to the valley or 
 open prairie, but the number of men not being sufficient to 
 accomplish this |)urpose the burned moccasins are made to 
 .serve in.stcad. The Indians dispersed along a piece of coun- 
 try of seven or eight miles in diameter, carefully observe all 
 the deer trails, and then hang their moccasins upon trees or 
 sticks along the hunting ground, ])articularly on the trails. 
 These moccasins from long usage have become .so thor- 
 oughly impregnated with the Indian smell, that they will be 
 readily scented by the deer, which, being such timid crea- 
 tures and so .shy of man's presence, will be sure either to go 
 back or at least to keep at a distance from the moccasins. 
 After having, in this way, forced all the deer trails on one 
 side of a diameter, they will drive the creatures in from the 
 opposite direflions, and they, with their animal instin61;, will 
 avoid tleep snow and follow the trails towards the deer en- 
 closure. Driving them slowly, in this njanner, the hunters 
 will finally form ijuickly in a circle and, rushing in from all 
 sides at once, with their dogs will give general chase. 
 
 The Spokane Indians, some years ago, killed in one day, 
 as many as eighty-four deer. This mode of shooting is 
 somewhat dangerous, and not unfretjuently considerable 
 damage is done by friendly bullets. 
 
 The cha.se is governed by special laws of its own, al- 
 though, in the end, all the hunters appear to have about an 
 
SKETCHJS OF nrODKK/V /NIJ/AN I. HE. 
 
 31 
 
 dclity to 
 ho other 
 irds tlic 
 :in^ only 
 life. 
 
 hunt, in 
 c6lion of 
 for start- 
 few days 
 Lire takes 
 occasins. 
 n a heap, 
 nd it say 
 lem dur- 
 estroyed, 
 1 distrib- 
 ,\s a good 
 :he direc- 
 
 lulian sa- 
 
 the hunt 
 
 valley or 
 
 fficient to 
 
 :; made to 
 
 of coun- 
 bserve all 
 n trees or 
 the trails. 
 
 so thor- 
 cy will be 
 mid crea- 
 hcr to go 
 noccasins. 
 ils on t)ne 
 
 from the 
 tin6l, will 
 deer en- 
 le hunters 
 n from all 
 asc. 
 
 \ one day, 
 oting is 
 nsiderable 
 
 own, al- 
 : about an 
 
 CMjual share of plunder whether they have shot it themselves 
 or not. 
 
 During the summer these Indians leave the mountains, 
 where they have been hunting all through the spring, and 
 colle6l in a large prairie which extends along both sides of 
 the Calispelem river, where a plant called Camas grows pro- 
 fusely and propagates itself, without cultivation. It proiluces 
 a vegetable which, when raw, is, in shape and color,']like a 
 young onion. This prairie is surrounded on all sides by a 
 very pifturcstjue range of mountains, and the land is a fer- 
 tile meadow of beautiful grass, although in my judgment, 
 not adapted to cultivation because subje6l to yearly floods, 
 cau.sed by the overflow of the Pend Oreille river during the 
 month of June. The whole tribe will assemble oi. this spot 
 and put up their lodges on both sides of the river ; the Spo- 
 kane and the Szikaezelim will collefl there too, to secure 
 provisions for the coming winter, so that Catholics, Protes- 
 tants and Pagans are all united in the search for food. 
 
 The Calispelem, when associated with pagans, will hardly 
 stand the trial to which they are subjofled in witnessing 
 their old customs and the un-Christian behavior of the 
 neighboring gamblers. So, while I was among them, I 
 thought it expedient to allow horse racing, provided there 
 was no betting. This was found to work very well indeed, 
 as it removed what was evil from a pastime so indispensable 
 to an Indian. Rut what was still better, as I found out by 
 my own experience, was to induce Catholic Indians to have 
 their own horse races as an amusement among themselves, 
 that in this way they might be preventeil from coming in 
 contact with pagan gamblers and thus enjoy the pleasure in 
 a harmless way. 
 
 Still, in such large gatherings there were always some few 
 young men who could not resist the attra6lion of gambling; 
 but this evil was finally avoided and good behavior secured 
 by the following plan. I persuaded the chief of the Cath- 
 olic tribe, when he went with his people to the fishery or to 
 the camas prairie, to have them put up their tents apart from 
 the others ; then they would be able to continue .saying their 
 jjrayers daily, and the chief by his timely advice could pre- 
 serve the good behavior of his people. 
 
 So, for instance, when the Calispelem go, during the sum- 
 mer, to gather their crop of cama^, they locate themselves 
 near the chapel, and the Catholic Sgoiel|)i encamp about a 
 mile below them, while the Protestant Spokane and the Szi- 
 kaegilini are together about four miles away. In this way, 
 gambling was altogether prevented, ; the labor of digging 
 gave occupation to them all. Early m the morning, soon 
 
SKETC/IHS Ol' ^fOI)/^:HN INDIAN I. UK. 
 
 after prayers, some men woiilil ^o out with a couple of 
 pl()Ufi[hs to turn tlie soil, and a little later lumilretis of In- 
 dians mi^ht be seen pickin^^ up the camas very much as 
 farmers tlo their potatoes. The entire tribe, men, women 
 and chililren are enj^faj,fed in this occupation, and the conse- 
 quence is, that wlien nij^ht comes, they are tired out, and 
 thus perfect peace and rest are secured. RacinjT was made 
 tile sport for a couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon, all 
 joining merrily in it with all their hearts, nor was there any 
 less enthusiasm manifested because there was no ciuarrelling. 
 It surprised me very much to see how e.\a6l they all were 
 to be home before sunset, and get ready to go to church for 
 the evening .service. Everything went on so 'v acefully and 
 orderly that it was a real consolation for me. 
 
 The difference in condu6l between the Catholics and pa- 
 gans, or even Protestants, was so striking, that very fre- 
 quently good men among the latter would ask my permission 
 to put up their tents among the Catholics and remain with 
 them while the season * lasted. I never made any difficulty 
 about this, provided they were willing to comply with three 
 conditions: first, not to quarrel or talk about religion, nor 
 to make any disturbance during the time of prayer ; .sec- 
 ondly, not to take any part in the gambling of their tribes ; 
 thirdly, to work, no one exempted, in digging camas, other- 
 wi.sc their bad example would be injuri(jus to discipline. If 
 they were willing to make these promises they were welcome 
 to remain ; if not, they were no loss. 
 
 On one occasion it happened that the Spokane Indians, 
 who are Protestants, had put up several gambling lodges 
 near the camp of the Calispelem, and when their women 
 left the prairie, the men remained there to gamble. When 
 I arrived to give a mission to the Calispelem, Ululim, the 
 chief of the police, came to give me an account of the .scan- 
 dal that was going on, as many yoimg men had, that season, 
 gambled with the Protestants. I caileil the Chief, Vi6lor, 
 and told him he must speak to the gamblers in thi.'-- way: I 
 am the chief here and the land-laws forbidding gambling 
 must be observed, therefore you must either stop it, or else 
 leave. Mis reply was that it did not belong to him to speak 
 in that way, but to the chief of police. After a while the 
 latter came to me .saying : " Do you want me to tlie?" " No," 
 .said I, " why ?" " Then why do you want me to speak to the 
 gamblers?" " Becau.se," said I, " they know very well that 
 you are not alone; there is your chief and the whole tribe 
 to protcft you." " They are good for nothing," .said he, 
 "they cannot remove from my flesh the marks of the sticks, 
 or of the knives of the gamblers." " Go," said I persua- 
 
SKETCriES OF ArODR/f.V rNDlAN LIFE. SB 
 
 (linf[Iy, " don't be afraid." " Why don't you jfo yourself" 
 was the reply. " Ikcause," said I, " such a transaction is 
 not my affiir, but yours; liovvever, if you are afraid, go in 
 my name and tell them, Alexan says this land is not a ^am- 
 blin<f place, l)ut the home of well behaved people, therefore 
 you must either leave it or stf)p gamDlin<^ at once; the black- 
 oown speaks to you." I had to coax him for more than a 
 lay, so ^reat was his fear of beiii<^r lun-t, or, as he expressed 
 it, of bein^ tied up and whip[)ed; at last, however, he went 
 and delivered my messaj^e. When he came back he told 
 me that the j^amblers were at first very much surprised at it,' 
 but soon picked up their cards and stopped the game, say- 
 ing: " Go, tell the priest that gambling has stopped and in 
 two days we shall be gone from here." They kept their 
 wor<l and so I was able to give a peaceful mission resulting 
 in much good. 
 
 The camas season lasts until about the end of August 
 and closes with a ceremony before whicii none dare eat any. 
 The supply of raw camas is taken and thrown in heaps 
 upon the ground, around which a stone wall is erefled and 
 then fillecl in with earth. Then fuel is piled upon what 
 might be called the stone oven, and for about twelve days, 
 a slow fire is constantly kept burning, so that the heat of the 
 stones will gradually l)ake this main article of winter con- 
 sumption. When the camas are baked, before taking them 
 out of the oven the women will notify the chief, who will 
 speak to the people, inviting them to be present at the cere- 
 mony inaugurating the u.sc of this food. The chief came to 
 me and said he would be pleased with ni)- presence on such 
 an important occasion. " Of course," said I, " I should be 
 happy to join you, but I should i)refcr to have the ceremony 
 performed in my lodge, as it is the largest." 
 
 So, at about noon the ne.xt day, he called the people to 
 my tent ; the men only, from twenty years up to the most 
 aged were present, taking their seats upon the ground, and 
 disposing themselves in a double row on cither side of the 
 lodge. They left a space of about three or four feet wide, 
 through the middle of the tent, which they covered with the 
 blankets they wore when they came in. There was no loud 
 talking, only some whispering took place, and I watched 
 with some curiosity what would come next. Just then two 
 women came in, bearing two parajleshcs of camas very hot 
 and smoking, and threw them on the blankets, and another, 
 to show me special attention, brought some in a dish and 
 placed it before me. The chief then said to me : " If you 
 please, father, all is ready." So I arose and made a speech, 
 first thanking God for the provisions he had bestowed upon 
 
 I 
 
24 
 
 S/CETCHES OF MODERN INDIA V LIFE. 
 
 those poor people and asking him to bless them with health 
 and success in hunting and fishing, in order that their bodily 
 necessities being provided for, they might with more eager- 
 ness and faithfulness attend to the salvation of their souls. 
 " And God will grant this pray*'," said I, " if you will mind 
 his word." When I had finished, the chief arose and ad- 
 dressed me : " You are our father and you have spoken as 
 our fathers did. They rejoiced on occasions like this, to 
 see the provisions which their mother earth had yielded 
 them; to see their children eating camas and enjoying 
 themselves, and to see the women workinr so hard to .secure 
 them. We, too, rejoice to-day for this blessing of God, and 
 we h()j)e he will grant your prayer and that none of our 
 children may starve." " Then," said he, " now eat." They 
 waited for me to begin, so I took a few of them which was 
 a signal for a general onset. Each one grasped as many 
 as he could seize and ate his fill. The women, meanwhile, 
 were outside of the tent, arranged in a double row around 
 it, and awaiting to get their share of camas. Poor creatures ! if 
 they had no more camas than had been left by the men, there 
 would scarcely have been enough for them to taste. When 
 the men had left, the same three women came into the tent, 
 and gathering up what remained, passed it around to the 
 hungry crowd of women. Then some went to the other 
 lodges and brought out more, so that all merrily enjoyed 
 this first meal of camas, which, when fresh, are (luite sweet. 
 These wild Indians, even in their native cf)ndition, are 
 capable of showing kindness and gratitude often in a very re- 
 fined manner. I was once called among the Calispelem to 
 adnn'nister the last rites of the Church to a young woman. 
 I was so an.xious to arrive in time that I rode mj' pony too 
 hard, and consequently was not able to use him again for a 
 week, so I improved the time by giving them an instr;i6tion. 
 When I was ready to leave, the i)rairie was all under water, 
 so the cli'ef said to me: " It will be hard for you to travel 
 round by the road, now that it is so jad ; .so to .save you 
 something, wc will lead your pony around, and you can 
 cross to the (jthci siile in a boat." " Agreed," .said I; and 
 after having shaken hands all around, I jumped into a little 
 canoe. The Indian canoe is made of a frame-work of strong, 
 light wood, shaped like a net, and covered with the bark of 
 a tree. A bottom of small and thin wooden planks, joined 
 together, but moveable, is put in, and on tiiis the person sits 
 as (juietiy as possible, since the lease motion made by those 
 who have no experience in managing these little skiffs, may 
 be fatal. As we glided smoothly over th.;t large prairie, now 
 become a lake, all at once, my guide overcome with fear, 
 
 i 
 
 hors 
 
 or a 
 
 no o 
 
 respc 
 
 of it ; 
 
 of ne 
 
 child 
 
 his bi 
 
 about 
 
 Su( 
 
 in ch 
 
 unboi 
 
 and tl 
 
 jeftio 
 
 for SI 
 
 precej 
 
 shall 
 
 has b 
 
 nomac 
 
 footing 
 
 to judi 
 
 morali 
 
 A Phi 
 
 The 
 Indian 
 all Cat 
 visit t( 
 when t 
 There 
 five oi 
 of moi 
 fir aboi 
 well SI 
 the wii 
 siielter 
 to kee| 
 front o 
 so s|)re 
 appear; 
 little h 
 spring 
 pack-tr 
 tojMe C( 
 
 I 
 
SA'/^TCH/CS OP MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 17 
 
 ii health 
 r bodily 
 c eager- 
 ir souls, 
 ill mind 
 and ad- 
 )oken as 
 : this, to 
 yielded 
 enjoying 
 to secure 
 God, and 
 le of our 
 " They 
 hich was 
 as many 
 canwhile, 
 kv around 
 ;atures! if 
 len, there 
 :. When 
 ( the tent, 
 lul to the 
 the other 
 enjoyed 
 ite sweet, 
 lition, are 
 a \ery re- 
 sjK.'lem to 
 ^ woman, 
 pony too 
 ^ain for a 
 istr;i6lion. 
 dcr water, 
 1 to travel 
 save you 
 you can 
 id I ; and 
 ito a little 
 of strong, 
 ic bark of 
 iks, joined 
 )crson sits 
 e by those 
 skiffs, may 
 rairie, now 
 with fear, 
 
 horse or steer ; if the child be a girl she will be given a mare 
 or a cow, and the gift is made in such a way that in future 
 no one will dare to touch it. The parents themselves so 
 respeft it, that if as the child grows up, he does not d'spose 
 of it himself, they will never sell it or trade with it. In case 
 of need, however, if the parents were unable to supply the 
 child with food and clothing, they might dispose of it for 
 his benefit, even while he was too young to know anything 
 about it. 
 
 Such is the raw material to be transformed by those put 
 in charge of these tribes ; a class of peojile whose aim is 
 unbounded freedom, polygamous in their habits, gamblers 
 and thieves mi their youth, licentious in morals, hating sub- 
 je6lioii, and unwilling to listen to counsel. Is it possible 
 for such a race to bee )me Christian, and to live up to the 
 precepts of the gospel ? As an answer to this (luestion, I 
 shall now proceed to describe the habits of a tribe, which 
 has been Christianized without any r.iaterial civilization, 
 nomadic in habits, and living upon tl.e very same social 
 footing as the pagans aliout them. I will leave my readers 
 to judge for themselves whether, even in the forest. Christian 
 morality and virtue cannot be pra6tised, 
 
 ClIAPTKK II. 
 
 A Pill lire of nil Indian Trihe Converted hut not yet Civilized. 
 
 The Calispelem tribe presents a true picSlure of uncivil'zed 
 Indians in what concerns temporal life; they are however 
 all Catholics. Imagine ycnirseif my companion during my 
 visit to them about the beginning of November, the time 
 when they gather into winter tpiarters at lisniekotin Ferry. 
 There you would find an Indian camj), composed of twenty - 
 five or thirty lodges, locatetl u])on the lower ridge of a range 
 of mountains, covered with woods, pine, tamarac anti retl 
 fir abounding, often clothed with a thick unilergrowth and 
 well supplied with game. An Indian would tell you that 
 the winter was not \'ery .severe there, the spot being well 
 sheltered from storms, with an abundance of fuel all around 
 to keep them comfortable during the dreary weather. In 
 front of the camp runs the Pend Oreille river, whicli here 
 so spreads itself and tlous so slowly as to have rather the 
 appearance of a small lake. On the east side of the river a 
 little house gives shelter to a ferry-man, who, from early 
 spring until late in the fall is ke[)t busy transporting the 
 pack-trains, which convey supplies to the miners in the Ko- 
 toi;ie country. 3 
 
 I 
 
18 
 
 SfCETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 Crossing by this ferry, or, if you prefer, in an Indian canoe, 
 and reaching the west bank, we shall find ourselves among 
 these poor people. The first sound which will greet your 
 ear, will be the word of welcome, " gest sgalgalt " " good 
 day," anil then you will behold the Chief, Viftor, the very 
 picture of laziness :uid dirt, issue forth from his tent and cry 
 aloutl : Zgtdiii Kiiaialko Ko/chi.-j, " Come all ; the black robe 
 is among us." Hearing this all the inmates of the various 
 wigwams will come out and slowly proceed to the chief's 
 tent to shake hands with the priest. The women will bring 
 their chiUlren, who are screaming with fright at the sight of 
 a white man, and taking their little hands compel them to 
 shake hands with me. Remember, that you are my com- 
 panion, and do not be afraid if you see the Indians regard- 
 ing you suspiciously, and if they walk around you, and 
 standing at a certain distance, scan you from head to foot, 
 now and then whispering a word among themselves. It 
 might ap[)ear to you as though they wished to do you some 
 harm, and yet they mean no ill will i)y such behavior; their 
 natural diffidence, together with a certain awe inspired bj- 
 the presence of a superior race, is what keeps them at a dis- 
 tance. Take courage, and approach them yourself; tell 
 them that you would like to stay a little wliile with them, 
 that you are interested in their welfire, antl you will soon 
 see that they will treat you with the same friendsiiip tiny 
 show me. The first intro(lu6lions concluded, you might be 
 curious to get a pee[) at the inside of their tents, but I give 
 you a frienilly warning that it is l)etter to remain outside, 
 for the filth, wretchedness and vermin to be found in there, 
 are beyond description. Their poverty is sonuithing e.\tra- 
 ortlinarj' ; the little children have scarcely any clothing at all, 
 and the men and women so little that it is pitifiii to behold 
 them. The per[)etual blanket (listened at the waist, or a 
 buflldo robe worn as a blanket, would give them a more 
 decent appearance and make them more comfortable during 
 such frost}- weather. 
 
 With a view of learning something of their daily lives, 
 suppose we pitch our tent for a short time and watch their 
 proceedings. Ivirly in the nuirning a blue smoke issuing 
 from their tents betokens that their rest has ended, and be- 
 fore long you will hear the bell rung by the chief, calling 
 tiiem all to morning prayer. Then the " red skins" will be 
 seen slowly coming forth from their smoky dwellings, and 
 repairing, either to the chief's tent, or to the ailjaeent lodge, 
 where they will say their ])rayers in common, after which 
 they will sing a liynm to the IMessed Virgin. This being 
 over, the chief will address a few words to them, either re- 
 
 lon< 
 
 w 
 
 they pK 
 tile won 
 per, wh 
 ing to e 
 to the I 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 I!t 
 
 an canoe, 
 :.s amon^ 
 cot your 
 ; " " jfood 
 the very 
 t and cry 
 ilack robe 
 le various 
 lie chief's 
 will brin^- 
 le sitjht of 
 1 them to 
 my com- 
 is regard- 
 you, and 
 id to foot, 
 iclves. It 
 you sonic 
 /lor ; their 
 spired by 
 n at a dis- 
 irself; tell 
 s\\\\ them, 
 will soon 
 ship tin >• 
 1 mii;ht be 
 but I give 
 n outside, 
 1 ill there, 
 ling extra- 
 ling at all, 
 to behold 
 aaist, or a 
 LMii a more 
 ible during 
 
 laily lives, 
 atcli their 
 ke issuing 
 j<l, and be- 
 lief, calling 
 IS " will be 
 Uings, and 
 cent lodge, 
 fter which 
 riiis being 
 , either re- 
 
 proving them for misbehavior on some occasion or giving 
 them timely advice. Going back' to their tents they pre[)are 
 their breakfast, of which they })artake at about nine o'clock. 
 They have all very good appetites, and if anyone has hap- 
 pened to be ke[)t on short allowance the day before, this first 
 meal is sure to make up for all that has been missed. After 
 the meal is over, some few moments are spent in chatting 
 and smoking pipes, after which the men generally get up in 
 a hurry, fasten on their cartridge belts, ancl taking their rifles, 
 .start off hunting. If the season reipiires it, snow-shoes will 
 be drawn out of their /'(?n?//^.v//«, a kind of impervious wrap- 
 per, made of deer skin, and thus accoutred they set forth. 
 A little later in the day you will hear the mother say to her 
 eldest son, Kukslaskagac " go, look for the horses." The 
 boy, without answering a word, gets up, takes his lariat and 
 off he goes. In a short time he is back and several horses 
 stantl before the lodge. The .same takes place in all the 
 other lodges. Then the women come out, satldle the horses, 
 and while many take a.xes and go fur fuel, others remain at 
 home sewing, washing, or tanning skins. You may also 
 see some men starting for a trading post if it is good weather, 
 ami some going to visit friends in other tribes, however, the 
 horses are driven to the lodges every morning for some 
 purpose. After these de|)artures the camp puts on {|uite a 
 different appearance. The children, from eight to fourteen 
 years of age, who have been left at ''ome to keep the neigh- 
 bors' dogs out of their own tents, d'.at they may not steal 
 the provisions their parents have lait in, will lia\e llu-ir own 
 sport, [)laying on the snow or shooting at obje6ls with their 
 arrows, or running about in games until their parents and 
 sisters relu'u from the woods. You will notice that the 
 loads they bring back promise to last a couple of ilays and 
 no longer. Often also, at about the same time, the men 
 may l)e seen returning from their hiinting expeditions, carry- 
 ing perhaps dressed deer on their horses, or a canoe well 
 laden with game will approach the river bank. The men 
 leave their horses near the lodge or their canoes near tlu' 
 shore, as the case ma_\- be, go intt> the Kvige, sit tlown, begin 
 to smoke their pipes, and then say to their wives, " I have 
 brought game." The wife and daughter then g.. out, un- 
 pack the game, bring it into the loilge, and by so doing- 
 make it their own property ; they can .sell it or trade it as 
 they please. The fur howe\er belongs to the man, although 
 the woman has to tan and prepare it for market. After sup- 
 per, which is taken early in the evening, the bell summon- 
 ing to evening prayer is lii-ard. and the people will either go 
 to the chief's lodge, or .say theii prayers at home. Often 
 
20 
 
 SKETCHES OE MODERN IN/) IAN I.IEE. 
 
 you will hear the chief from his lodge addressing his people, 
 either upon some religious subjefl or in regard to fidelity to 
 their own customs and traditions ; then those in the other 
 lodges will make their own remarks, and afterwards the 
 evening is spent in conversation upon topics interesting only 
 to themselves. Such is the plan of their ordinary life. 
 
 The great event of the winter with them, is a hunt, in 
 which the entire tribe is engaged, the general direction of 
 which belongs to the chief who designates the time for start- 
 ing. They catch their horses and bring them in a few days 
 beforehand, and on the day preceding their departure takes 
 place the solemn ceremony of the burning of moccasins. 
 All the old moccasins are collected and placed in a heap, 
 which is then set on fire, while all standing around it say 
 a prayer together that God may be propitious to them dur- 
 ing the chase. When the moccasins are about half destroyed, 
 they arc taken still burning out of the fire and distrib- 
 uted among the hunters, each one of whom secures a good 
 supply of them, and then starts off according to the direc- 
 tions he has received from the chief 
 
 The meaning of this custom is illustrative of Indian sa- 
 gacity and keenness of perception. The obje6l of the hunt 
 is to drive the tleer in from their fastnesses to the valley or 
 open prairie, but the number of men not being sufficient to 
 accom[)Iish this purpose the burned moccasins are made to 
 serve instead. The Indians dispersed along a piece of coun- 
 try of seven or eight miles in diameter, carefully observe all 
 the deer trails, and then hang their moccasins upon trees or 
 .sticks along the hunting ground, particularly on the trails. 
 These moccasins from lf)ng usage have become so thor- 
 oughly im[)regnated with the Indian smell, that they will be 
 readily scented by the deer, which, being such timid crea- 
 tures and so shy of man's presence, will be sure either to go 
 back or at least to keep at a distance from the moccasins. 
 After having, in this way, forced all the deer trails on one 
 side of a diameter, they will drive the creatures in from the 
 opposite dire6lions, and they, with their animal instinfl, will 
 avoid dee]) snow and follow the trails towards the deer en- 
 closure. Driving them slowly, in this manner, the hunters 
 will finally form (juickly in a circle and, rushing in from all 
 sides at once, with their dogs will give general chase. 
 
 The Spokane Indians, some years ago, killeil in one ilay, 
 as many as eighty-four deer. This mode of shooting is 
 somewhat dangerous, and not unfrecpiently considerable 
 damage is done by friendly bullets. 
 
 The chase is governed by special laws of its own, al- 
 though, in the end, all the hunters appear to have about an 
 
 
 thouf 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LII'E. 
 
 5 people, 
 dclity to 
 [le other 
 irds the 
 in<r only 
 hfe. 
 
 hunt, in 
 jction of 
 for start- 
 few ilays 
 ire takes 
 occasins. 
 ^ a heap, 
 nd it say 
 lem dur- 
 L'stroyed, 
 I distrib- 
 ;s a [food 
 he direc- 
 
 idian sa- 
 the hunt 
 valley or 
 Fficient to 
 ; made to 
 ; of coun- 
 jserve all 
 1 trees or 
 the trails. 
 
 so tlior- 
 
 y will be 
 mid crea- 
 
 ler to ^o 
 loccasins. 
 Is on one 
 
 from the 
 tinfl, will 
 
 deer en- 
 e hunters 
 n from all 
 ;ise. 
 
 one day, 
 looting;; is 
 isiderable 
 
 own, al- 
 about an 
 
 ecjual share of plunder whether they have shot it themselves 
 or not. 
 
 During the summer these Indians leave the mountains, 
 where they have been hunting all through the spring, and 
 collc6l in a large prairie which extends along both sides of 
 the Calispelem river, where a plant called Camas grows pro- 
 fusely and propagates itself, without cultivation. It produces 
 a vegetable which, when raw, is, in shape and color.'Jlike a 
 young onion. This prairie is surrounded on all sides by a 
 very pi6luresquc range of mountains, and the land is a fer- 
 tile meadow of beautiful grass, although in my judgment, 
 not adapted to cultivation because subject to yearly floods, 
 caused by the overflow of the Pend Oreille river during the 
 month of June. The whole tribe will assemble on this spot 
 and put up their lodges on both sides of the river ; the Spo- 
 kane and the Szikaezelim will colle6l there too, to secure 
 provisions for the coming winter, so that Catholics, Protes- 
 tants and Pagans are all united in the search for food. 
 
 The Calispelem, when associated with pagans, will hardly 
 stand the trial to which they are subjeflcd in witnessing 
 their old customs and the un-Christian behavior of the 
 neighboring gamblers. So, while I was among them, I 
 thought it expedient to allow horse racing, provided there 
 was no betting. This was found to work very well indeed, 
 as it removed what was evil from a pastime so indispensable 
 to an Indian. But what was still better, as I found out by 
 my own experience, was to induce Catholic Indians to have 
 their own horse races as an amusement among themselves, 
 that in this way they might be prevented from coming in 
 conta6l with pagan gamblers and thus enjoy the pleasure in 
 a harmless way. 
 
 Still, in such large gatherings there were always some few 
 young men who could not resist the attra6lion of gambling; 
 but this evil was finally avoided and good behavior secured 
 by the following plan. I persuaded the chief of the Cath- 
 olic tribe, when he went with his people to the fishery or to 
 the camas prairie, to have them put up their tents apart from 
 the others ; then they would be able to continue saying their 
 prayers daily, and the chief by his timely advice could jjre- 
 serve the good behavior of his people. 
 
 .So, for instance, when the Calisi)elem go, during the sum- 
 mer, to gather their crop of camas, they locate themselves 
 near the chapel, and the Catholic Sgoielpi encani]) about a 
 mile below them, while the Protestant Spokane and the S/i- 
 kaegilini are together about four miles away. In this way, 
 gambling was altogether prevented, and the labor <>f digging 
 gave occupation to them all. Early in the morning, soon 
 
22 
 
 SK'ETCHES Oh MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 after prayers, some men would fjo out with a couple of 
 ploufjlis to turn the soil, and a little later hundreds of In- 
 dians might be seen picking up the camas very much as 
 farmers do their potatoes. The entire tribe, men, women 
 and children arc engaged in this occupation, and the conse- 
 quence is, that when night comes, they are tired out, and 
 thus pcrfe61: j^cace and rest arc secured. Racing was made 
 the sport for a couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon, all 
 joining merrily in it with all their hearts, nor was there any 
 le.ss enthusiasm manifested because there was no quarrelling. 
 It surprised me very much to see how e.\'a6l they all were 
 to be home before sunset, and get ready to go to church for 
 the evening service. Everything went on so peacefully and 
 orderly that it was a real consolation for me. 
 
 The difference in condu6l between the Catholics and pa- 
 ^ .IS, or even Protestants, was so striking, that very fre- 
 quently good men among the latter would ask my permission 
 to put up their tents among the Catholics and remain with 
 them while the season lasted. I never made any difficulty 
 about this, provided they were willing to comply with three 
 conditions: first, not to quarrel or talk about religion, nor 
 to make any disturbance during the time of [)rayer; sec- 
 ondly, not to take any part in the gambling of their tribes ; 
 thirdly, to v/ork, no one exempted, in digging camas, other- 
 wise their bad example would be injurious to discipline. If 
 they were willing to make these promises they were welcome 
 to remain ; if not, they were no loss. 
 
 On one occasion it happened th;it the S|)okane Indians, 
 who are Protestants, had put uj) several gambling lodges 
 near the camp of the Calispelem, and when their women 
 left the prairie, the men remained there to gamble. When 
 I arrived to give a mission to the Calispelem, Ululim, the 
 chief of the police, came to give me an account of the scan- 
 dal that was going on, as many young men had, that season, 
 ganibled with the Protestants. I called the Chief Viilor, 
 and told him he must speak to the gamblers in this way : I 
 am the chief here and the land-laws fi)rbiilding gambling 
 must be observed, therefore you must either stop it, or else 
 leave. Mis reply was that it did not belong to him to speak 
 in that way, but to the chief of police. After a while the 
 latter came to me saying : " Do you want me to die?" " No," 
 said I, " why ?" " Then why do you want me to speak to the 
 gamblers?" " Because," said I, " tlicy know very well that 
 you are not alone ; there is your chief and the whole tribe 
 to prote6t you." " They are good for nothing," .said he, 
 " they cannot remove from my llesh the marks of the sticks, 
 or of the knives of the gamblers." " Go," said I pcrsuu- 
 
SA^ETC/nCS OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 lodj^cs 
 
 flinfrly, " don't be afraid." " Why don't you go yourself" 
 was the reply. " Because," said I, " such a transaction is 
 not my affair, but yours ; however, if you are afraid, go in 
 my name and tell them, Alexan says this land is not a gam- 
 bling place, but the home of well behaved people, therefore 
 you must either leave it or stop gambling at once; the black- 
 gown speaks to you." I had to coa.K him for more than a 
 (lay, so great was his fear of being hurt, or, as he cxpres.sed 
 it, of !)eing tictl up and whipped; at last, however, he went 
 and delivered my message. When he came back he told 
 me that the gamblers were at first very much surprised at it, 
 but soon picked up their cards and stopped the game, .say- 
 ing : " Go, tell the priest that gambling has .stopped and in 
 two days we shall be gone from here." They kept their 
 word and so I was able to give a peaceful nu'ssion resulting 
 
 m much good 
 
 The camas season lasts until about the end of August 
 and clf)ses with a ceremony before which none dare eat any. 
 The sup[)ly of raw camas is taken and thrown in heaps 
 upon the ground, around which a .stone wall is erefled and 
 then filled in with earth. Then fuel is piled upon what 
 might be called the stone oven, and for about twelve days, 
 a slow fire is constantly kept burning, so that the heat of the 
 stones will gradually bake this main article of winter con- 
 sumptifju. When the camas are baked, before taking them 
 out of the oven the women will notify the chief, who will 
 speak to the peo[)le, inviting them to be present at the cere- 
 mony inaugurating the use of this food. The chief came to 
 me and .said he would be pleased with my presence on such 
 an important occasion. " Of course," said I, " 1 should be 
 hapi)y to join you, but I should prefer to have the ceremony 
 performed in my lodge, as it is the largest." 
 
 So, at about noon the next day, he called the people to 
 my tent ; the men only, from twenty years up to the most 
 aged were present, taking their seats upon the ground, and 
 disposing themselves in a double row on either siile of the 
 lodge. They left a space of about three or four feet wide, 
 through the middle of the tent, which they covered with the 
 blankets they wore when they came in. There was no loud 
 talking, only some whispering took place, and I watched 
 with some curiosity what wouUl come ne.xt. Just then two 
 women came in, bearing two l^arajleshcs of camas very hot 
 and smoking, and tiuew them on the blankets, and another, 
 to show me special attention, brought some in a dish and 
 placed it before me. The chief then .said to me : " If you 
 plea.se, father, all is ready." So I arose and made a .speech, 
 first thanking God for the provisions he had bestowed upon 
 
24 
 
 S/CETCHRS OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 those poor people and askii^ him to bless them with health 
 aiul success in hiintinj^ and fishin<^, in order that their bodily 
 necessities beini; provided for, they might with more eager- 
 ness and faithfulness attend to the salvation of their souls. 
 " And God will grant this prayer," said I, " if you will mind 
 his word." When I had finished, the chief aro.se and ad- 
 dres.sed me: " You are our father and you have spoken as 
 our fathers did. They rejoiced on occasions like this, to 
 see the provisions which their mother earth had yielded 
 them ; to see their children eating camas and enjoying 
 themselves, and to see the women working so hard to .secure 
 them. We, too, rejoice to-day for this blessing of God, and 
 we hope he will grant your prayer and that none of our 
 children may .starve." " Then," .said he, " now eat." They 
 waited for me to begin, .so I took a few of them which was 
 a signal for a general onset. Each one grasped as many 
 as he could .seize and ate his fill. The women, meanwhile, 
 were outside of the tent, arranged in a double row around 
 it, and awaiting to get their share of camas. Poor creatures ! if 
 they had no more camas than had been left by the men, there 
 would scarcely have beon enough for them to taste. When 
 the men had left, the .same three women came into the tent, 
 and gathering up what remained, pa.ssed it around to the 
 hungry crowd of women. Then some went to the other 
 lodges and brought out more, so that all merrily enjoyed 
 this first meal of camas, which, when fresh, are (juite sweet. 
 These wild Indians, even in their native condition, are 
 capable of showing kindness and gratitude often in a very re- 
 fined manner. I was once called among the Calispelem to 
 administer the last rites of the Church to a young woman. 
 I was so an.xious to arrive in time that I rode my pony too 
 hard, and consecpiently was not able to use him again for a 
 week, so I improved the time by giving them an instru6tion. 
 When I was ready to leave, the prairie was all under water, 
 .so the chief said to me: " It will be hard for you to travel 
 round by thj road, now that it is .so bad; so to .save you 
 something, we will lead your p(Miy around, and you can 
 cro.ss to the other side in a boat." " Agreed," said I ; and 
 after having shaken hands all around, I jumped into a little 
 canoe. The Indian canoe is made of a frame-work of .strong, 
 light wood, shaped like a net, and covered with the bark of 
 a tree. A bottom of small and thin wooden planks, joined 
 together, but moveable, is put in, and on this the person sits 
 as quietly as possible, since the least motion made by those 
 who have no experience in managing these little skiffs, may 
 be fatal. As we glided smoothly over that large prairie, now 
 become a lake, all at once, my guide overcome with fear, 
 
 Whr 
 
 well 
 
 const; 
 
 succe 
 Wa 
 
 seem 
 
 and 
 
 At , 
 
 wars, 
 
 Chris: 
 
 and 
 
 Snak 
 
 with 
 
 very 
 Wl 
 Feast 
 churc 
 pelem 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 2K 
 
 h health 
 ir bodily 
 re cagcr- 
 :ir souls, 
 tfill niiiul 
 and ad- 
 poken as 
 - this, to 
 I yielded 
 enjoying 
 to secure 
 God, and 
 rte of our 
 ." They 
 diich was 
 as many 
 canwhile, 
 w around 
 catures! if 
 nen, there 
 s. When 
 :> the tent, 
 nd to the 
 the other 
 y enjoyed 
 lite sweet, 
 dition, are 
 a very re- 
 ispcleni to 
 itr woman. 
 T pony too 
 xgain for a 
 iistru6tion. 
 ider water, 
 u to travel 
 ) save you 
 you can 
 ud I ; and 
 nto a little 
 : of strong, 
 the bark of 
 nks, joined 
 person sits 
 le by those 
 skiffs, may 
 )rairie, now 
 with fear, 
 
 J 
 
 looking at me, exclaimed, " We arc lost !" Without knowing 
 how it could have happened, he had discovered an opening 
 in the bottom of the boat and the water was coming in. 
 "Take a short cut" said I, while dipping my handkerchief 
 into the water and squeezing it over the side, I strove to 
 bale the boat. He began to row as fast as he could, and in 
 a few minutes we were in shallow water, when he worked a 
 little slower and succeeded in reaching the shore, before the 
 opening became large enough to be very dangerous. There 
 we landed and made a little fire, and a supply of pitch, which 
 the guide had with him, supplied us with a speedy remedy 
 for the boat. Having thus repaired the canoe we travelled 
 pleasantly for two hours longer and reached the place where 
 my horse was waiting for me. 
 
 During this visit, the children were instru£led twice a day 
 in catechism, among whom was a boy noted for his regular 
 attendance and good behavior. He knew that I was not 
 feeling very we'l, because at that time my only food was a 
 few camas and marshy water, and he had noticed that I was 
 suffering from the effe6ls of this diet. The ne.xt day he was 
 missed from catechism, but in the eveningjie returned bring- 
 ing some fish, and saitl to me : " I saw /on starving, and I 
 have been out fishing the whole day; i caught only three 
 fish ; two of them are very bony and unfit for you, but please 
 take this trout, it is not bony and it is nice eating." What 
 a fine charafler was that small boy, brought up in the woods ! 
 What I admire in that tribe is their docility and respeft, as 
 well as the sincerity of their faith, which they have preserved 
 constantly from the beginning. The spirit of charity has 
 succeeded to the love of vengeance. 
 
 Wars among them used to be very frequent ; it would 
 seem that their chief glory consisted in scalping each other 
 and in keeping up perpetual enmities among them.selves. 
 At present, among the Catholic tribes there are no more 
 wars, and there never have been any since they first became 
 Christians, when there were a few battles between Catholic 
 and pagan tribes. The Flat- Heads had a fight with the 
 Snake Indians and the lilackfeet ; and the Pcnd Oreilles 
 with the Blackfeet also, but only when the enemy came to 
 surprise them on their own land. Except these there is no 
 other case ; on the contrary, at present they treat each other 
 very kindly. 
 
 When tribes of Indians go to the Colville Mission for the 
 Feast of Corpus Christi to celebrate the solemnity in that 
 church, they are received with great attention. The Calis- 
 pelem, for instance, and also the Okinagans, send a message 
 
» 
 
 SKETCHES OF MODERN INDTAN LIFE. 
 
 one day ahead, stating that at such an hour they will be at 
 the church ; the chief then notifies the tribe to be in readi- 
 ness to receive their friends, and at the appointed hour they 
 all proceed to the church. As soon as the Calispeleni come 
 in sight, they fire a salute, which is answered from the pla- 
 teau in front of the church, and as they advance on horse- 
 back towards the mission the firing is continued. The 
 Colville Indians coming out of the church, and bearing their 
 flag, proceed in a double row to meet their guests. At about 
 three hundred yards from the foot of the hill, the visitors 
 dismount, and having fasteneil their horses to the fences 
 around the mission fields, they advance in a double row, 
 with their chief at their head to meet the other tribe. Near- 
 ing them, they fall into one line which passes the line of the 
 Colville Indians, as it moves towards the church, so that 
 each one shakes hands with the whole tribe in a very short 
 time. They then go into the church, where they receive 
 some good advice concerning their duty, and what should 
 be their behavior on such an occasion, so as to preserve this 
 friendly intercourse among them. 
 
 Such is the change produced by religion, even in its very 
 infancy, upon these wild Indians ; their condu6l is such as 
 to make other Indians wonder at seeing such mutual charity 
 existing and practised among Catholics and finally induces 
 many pagans to join them. It seems to me that if religion 
 produced no other ci{c^ than this, it would be in itself a 
 great deal, considering the untamed nature of those poor 
 savages. 
 
 But how can the priest effeft such a change in their feel- 
 ings and habits, and be able to maintain a Christian spirit 
 among them ? The undertaking is an arduous one, I grant, 
 and the sacrifices made by the nu'ssionary arc quite ex- 
 ceptional. 
 
 To present some idea of what he must undergo, in order 
 to visit, instruft, and train the.se wild creatures in the faith 
 of Christ, I will give an account of one of the journeys 
 which, while I was in charge of the Colville Mi.ssion, I was in 
 the habit of making twice a year, among those farthest re- 
 moved from the influence of the mission. 
 
 Pcop 
 
 from bi 
 
 dotes, h 
 
 and sm 
 
 very roi 
 
 along 
 
 thick wi 
 
 freshed 
 
 Rocky 
 
 Sand witl 
 
 a man t^ 
 
 jure. M 
 
 life of t 
 
 I sacrifice 
 
 jit may a 
 
 yiro.saic , 
 
 M-ace it. 
 
 Imonths, 
 
 )ut all a 
 
 iischarg 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 27 
 
 will be at 
 in rcadi- 
 lour they 
 Icni come 
 1 the pla- 
 )n horse- 
 ed. The 
 •ing their 
 At about 
 c; visitors 
 lie fences 
 ible row, 
 2. Near- 
 ine of the 
 1, so that 
 ery short 
 y receive 
 at should 
 serve this 
 
 n its very 
 Is such as 
 al charity 
 y induces 
 f religion 
 n itself a 
 lose poor 
 
 their feel- 
 nan spirit 
 c, I grant, 
 quite ex- 
 
 ), in order 
 I the faith 
 journeys 
 n, I was in 
 irthcst rc- 
 
 ChAI'TKR III. 
 
 Tour of a Missionary. 
 
 People, who form their opinion of missionary journeys 
 from books written for pastime or from newspaper anec- 
 dotes, have very little knowledge of the real state of things 
 and small appreciation of their trials and hardships. It is 
 very romantic, one may say, to pass the summer travelling 
 along magnificent rivers of transparent water, sheltered by 
 thick woods from the scorching rays of the sun, and re- 
 freshed l)y the bracing breezes that sweep down from the 
 Rocky Mountains. Apart from the busy hum of towns, 
 and with no care to disturb the heart, it must be pleasant for 
 a man to spend his life among the pi6luresque spots of nat- 
 ure. Many may have such ideas and may look upon the 
 life of the missionary as one of ease, rather than of self- 
 sacrifice and self-denial. Ikit, in reality, although to some 
 it may appear poetic and romantic, it is to the last degree 
 prosaic and full of trials and privations for those who em- 
 brace it. A missionary does not travel for a few weeks, or 
 months, but during the entire year; not in favored spots, 
 but all about the country ; not for pleasure's sake, but in the 
 discharge of stern duty ; not provided with every comfort, 
 
2S 
 
 Sk'KTCHES or MOnrRN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 but often destitute of even the necessaries of life. I have 
 had experience of this kind of life for about ten years, and 
 I know that it is not only hard, but about the hardest life 
 that can be imagined. Permit mc here to relate a winter's 
 excursion which I made from Colville Mission to the mouth 
 of the Okinagan, from there to Lake Sooyons and thence 
 back to Colville, that you may judge for yourself, kind read- 
 er, how poetic and pleasant '\?. the daily life of a missionary 
 among the Indians of the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 Colville Mission is situated upon an elevated table-land in 
 Washington Territory, about four miles from Kettle Falls. 
 Its church, ninety-five feet long and sixty wide, stands on 
 the top of a hill commanding the narrow flat irrigated by 
 the Colville River. At the foot of this hill begins an Indian 
 Settlement which extends along the Columbia River for 
 several miles. I left this mission December 2, 1879, for my 
 winter trip among the Indians. It is rather a long journey, 
 requiring from three and a half to four months, and the 
 roads are somewhat dangerous ; therefore, it was neces.sary 
 for me to secure a good, faithful Indian guide, w'^ose ser- 
 vices would be all the more useful to me, because I had 
 barely recovered strength after a long attack of mountain 
 fever during the autumn. I called upon a pious Indian, by 
 the name of Edward, and asked him whether he would ac- 
 company me on my winter trip. " Those poor creatures," 
 said I, " hardly ever see a priest, so that they have no chance 
 to go to confession nor to be instrufted ; we ought to take 
 pity on them and give them, this year, an opportunity of 
 going; to their duties. Now, my good man, you can help 
 them if you go with me on this expedition." He rather 
 hesitated saying that the journey was a long one; "but," 
 said he, " let me go and see if my wife has provisions for 
 the winter; if she is willing, I will go with you." After 
 three days he returned to tell me that he had arranged 
 everything and was ready to start. Then I got together 
 my provisions, consisting of a sack of flour, a few pounds 
 of bacon, some tobacco to pay the ferry on the Columbia 
 River ; also a buffalo robe and two blankets for beddin'^ and 
 a case containing everything requisite for saying Mass. We 
 started, as I have said, on December 2. I took the lead 
 wherever there were Indian Settlements ; because, according 
 to Indian customs, the guide should follow and not go ahead ; 
 and my Indian would have been reproved by the others had 
 he been seen in front of me, so he drove the pack-horse. 
 Th' snow was not more than six mches deep on the little 
 flat adjoining the mission hill, and, after travelling a mile and 
 a half, we entered the woods, which are densely supplied, 
 
SKETCifF.s or ^rnnrRN rv/>r,iy life. 
 
 mostly with pine ami red fir, which would furnish an im- 
 mense amount of lumber for huildiiiL,^ pur[)oses. VViien we 
 had travelled somethinj^f like six miles, I saw an Indian 
 coming alon<,', who, takin^j off his hat, went to s[)eak to the 
 }^uide, whom, by this time, I had sent on ahead. He said 
 to Kdward ; " Tell the father to come to my house tu-ni^ht, 
 I would be f^lad to see him." Kdward brou;^dit the messai^e 
 to me. I incjuireil why he diil not come and speak to me 
 him.self Then Kilwanl tokl me ; " He is too much ashamed 
 of himself, because, last summer, when he had been drink- 
 inj^, he wounoed one of his friends in a fij^ht. After t,rot- 
 ting sober he despaired of recoverin;,^ his good name among 
 the Indians, but lie was so sorry for what he h.ul done, that 
 he went to .see his friend and gave him fifty ilollars, with a 
 good horse and sleigh, hy way of satisfat'liion. For over 
 three months afterwards, he was still ashamed to show him- 
 self in public. So, father, do go and see him ; you may 
 do him some good." " Well," I answered, " ride up to his 
 house, I will see if I can do anything with him." At sun- 
 set I reached the tloor of the Indian's hut, and he received 
 me very kindly. After remaining for some time in silence, 
 he began : " Father, I was very bad last summer, while I 
 was working with the whites. I had several chances to 
 drink and I did so with some other Indians, disregarding 
 your advice and your rei)roof. We became intoxicated, 
 and not knowing what we were about, we had a fight. This 
 ended with my cutting one of my friends badly with a knife. 
 I am very bad, father, and I do not know what to do. My 
 friend has forgiven me the injury I did to him and I have 
 given him what .satisfaction I could, yet I feel .so bad that I 
 have no courage to do anything even for the support of my 
 family." " Poor man," said I, " I feel very sorry for you, 
 but you must learn hereafter to listen to the priest. You 
 know very well that if you had minded me and kept away 
 from the town, you would not have brought yourself to this 
 misery from which arises such fearful remorse of conscience. 
 Make your peace now with God ; go to the church and listen 
 to the instructions which the father there is giving the peo- 
 ple, and then on the feast of the Immaculate Conception you 
 can go to confession. After that, arrange matters with the 
 chief, for a permanent peace between you and the family of 
 the wounded man, and begin to live again in an upriglit 
 manner as you were doing last summer. God will have 
 mercy on you if you are sincerely sorry for the wrong you 
 have done and arc earnest about amending your ways." He 
 answered, " I must do so," and I learned on my return that 
 
 The next morning seeing that 
 
 he had followed my advice. 
 
80 
 
 SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 my riding horse was lame he came to mc saying : " Father, 
 that horse cannot carry you through such a journey ; let me 
 lend you mine." So he went out, caught and saddled it for 
 me, and with a feeling of gratitude for my short visit to his 
 family he bade me good-bye. 
 
 I then travelled along the Columbia River, making about 
 twenty miles that day. I invited all the people, as I went 
 along the road, to come to the church the next morning, as 
 I intended to say Mass in a little chapel which had been 
 built in the year 1878 by a chief of a little tribe of Sem- 
 puelsh. 1 reached there towards evening and the chief 
 meeting me said : " Good evening, father, it is quite cold ; 
 come into my house. I will keep you warm." I readily 
 accepted this invitation and passed the night there. After 
 supper, while giving me some information with regard to 
 his people, he told me : " Father, you know the Indian L. 
 P. ; well, since last autumn he has been gambling and he 
 has collefled gamblers even from the Spokane Indians, in 
 spite of you." " Why so ?" said I. "You know," he re- 
 plied, " that L. P. some time ago became dissatisfied with 
 his wife and accused her of a crime to the chief of the 
 Sgoielpi last summer. We had our court, and found her 
 innocent ; yei he insisted that we should have punished her. 
 From inquiries made we found out that he had been anxious 
 for us to condemn her, because this would have made her 
 appear as guilty before the people and thus have furnished 
 him with a pretext for killing her. So the chief went to 
 see you and you said that it v/as not lawful to punish an 
 innocent woman. This made him angry against you and in 
 his wrath he swore to kill you. So I warn you, father, not 
 to go down whore L. P. is, because he is so exasperated at 
 not having succeeded in his plans that he may kill y'u." I 
 told him that I was astonished to hear all this and that on 
 the morrow, after ciiurch, I would see what I should do. I 
 had service the next morning, gave an instru6tion and ad- 
 ministered about thirty communions. Then, after taking a 
 light repast, I called a man by the name of Timothy and I 
 said to him ; " Let us go to .see L. P. and his gan'i.blers." I 
 saddled my horse and went three miles down '! Columbia 
 River with Timothy. When we had come to within about 
 thirty yards of the gambling lodge I asked Timothy to go 
 and call them out, and tell them all that I wished to see 
 them. After a while, he came out and told me that they did 
 not w'int to see me. I bade him go back again and tell 
 them that I was waiting in L. P's house to see them all. At 
 last they came ; there were about fourteen or fifteen of them, 
 sitting on the floor, and they surrounded me, with L. P. just 
 
 vai 
 him.^ 
 blinj 
 Tl 
 I had 
 aboi 
 Spo 
 wer',' 
 Livii 
 at o 
 with 
 tlicy 
 nt)ne 
 the 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 81 
 
 Father, 
 ; let me 
 :d it for 
 it to his 
 
 g about 
 5 I went 
 ning, as 
 id been 
 of Scm- 
 he chief 
 tc cold ; 
 [ readily 
 :. After 
 igard to 
 idian L. 
 r and he 
 dians, in 
 " he re- 
 led with 
 ;f of the 
 )vnid her 
 shed her. 
 1 anxious 
 nade her 
 furnished 
 
 went to 
 lunish an 
 ou and in 
 ither, not 
 •erated at 
 yr;U." I 
 d that on 
 lid do. I 
 n and ad- 
 r taking a 
 ithy and I 
 iblcrs." I 
 Columbia 
 thin about 
 3thy to go 
 led to see 
 it they did 
 n and tell 
 mall. At 
 Ml of them, 
 
 L. P. just 
 
 
 ( 
 
 in front of me. Standing in their midst and addressing L. 
 P. I said : " Now here I am, alone, without arms, surrounded 
 by your men ; get up, take your bow or your revolver, and 
 shoot me." For a moment there was silence, then he got 
 up and said : " Yes, that was my wish and I had sworn to kill 
 you, but now my mind is different." " Then," said I, " the 
 injury you would have done to me by killing me would have 
 been great, but yet not so great as the offence you have 
 already given the Sacred Heart of Jesus by your criminal 
 behavior and threats of r^illing me; your words have been 
 so many arrows wounding the Divine Heart, and your con- 
 tinued anger has been the cause of its bleeding. You all 
 here are enemies of Jesus, because you have transgressed His 
 law by gambling and drinking, and much more by threat- 
 ening His Minister in my person. He has been merciful to 
 you, but you have been ungrateful to Him. Now, the road 
 lies before you ; whosoever wishes to follow Jesus Christ, 
 let him come with me to the church, and do penance for his 
 :.:r>s. and whoever wishes to follow the devil, let him go with 
 that chief L. P." I went out, mounted my horse and took 
 my way slowly back to the church, but I could see that all 
 the men, women and children were following me. I went 
 into the church, and after saying some prayers, preached 
 quite a long time and with a good deal of strength, and then 
 I told them that they were to walk their three miles every 
 morning and evening for five days, that they might hear 
 God's word explained. I gave them a little mission, which 
 was more fruitful than I anticipated. During those days 
 til ;y had several meetings with the chief, a man of faith and 
 of :^xperif lice, who helped considerably to restore the good 
 order and morali'jy of that infant tribe. The mission in- 
 duced about fifty to go to confession and communion ; all 
 but L. P. showed signs of repentance, and good order pre- 
 vailed in that locality for some time. After that, L. P. found 
 himself left alone and conse(|uently he began to stop gam- 
 bling and drinking and to behave better. 
 
 This mission caused me a delay of about six days, so that 
 I had to hurry on to visit the other tribes. We travelled 
 about thirtj' miles the next day, reaching the mouth of the 
 Spokane R'ver, where a few ludges of Protestant Indians 
 were set up. I found there a man named Gtilguizulevi, "The 
 Living Bull," with two lodges of r'-latives. They perceived 
 at once that I wi r. a priest, an<l, although I wanted to talk 
 with them, I found tht'm very sullen. I then asked them if 
 they would not help me across the Spokane River li'erry, hut 
 none of them wanted i; . do it. I offered to pay a squaw for 
 the ULJc of her cano , bu» she only looked at me indignandy 
 
32 
 
 SR-ETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 and answered, " Never !" I then walked away telling my 
 guide to go and speak to them while I offered a silent prayer 
 to God that He would touch '^cii hearts and make them 
 treat their fellow Christians, at least, humanely. After a few 
 minutes Edward returned saying : " It is no use ; they hate 
 you and would not ferry you across for any amount of 
 money." " Well," said I, " let us cheer rp, God will help 
 us." Then I made one more effort, saying to the squaw : 
 " I will pay you in money, if you will let me have the use 
 of your canoe." " Never," said she, " the priest is our deadly 
 foe, never !" While I was dcbatin;.; \A\,^\. in the world we 
 should do, happening to look ;'rou;! ; -e saw an Indian 
 chasing horses. Approaching i ir , \, .discovered him to 
 be one of those poor people of th':: N",al!m, the elder brother 
 of L. P. We called him and ask'xl iiim to help us to cross 
 the river. " Yes," .said he, " let us go a couple of miles 
 down stream and we shall find a canoe there belonging to 
 one of my relatives, we can cross there and swim the horses." 
 We followed this suggestion and so got across that same 
 night. Next day, we started again, and, after a few miles, 
 we found a little camp of Indians, five lodges in all, of the 
 Sempuelsh tribe. Here again trouble awaited us. A woman 
 of that tribe had married a white man, who kept a little 
 store, and professed to be what the pagans call a dreamer. 
 I went into the house to buy a kettle to boil my flour, be- 
 cause the one I brought with me from the mission Had begun 
 to leak. As soon as this woman saw me she '.•oc.Hri? like 
 one in a fury. " Why have you come here oi.'ion;.r is ? To 
 convert us, I suppose! You are always proach'n^f against 
 our dreaming, but your own religion is woi e tha'., lurs. I 
 know how to read ; I have been to Portland, xna I kwow t'lat 
 you priests are thieves ! Where do you get youi . \"', your 
 pants, your clothing?" and so she carried on in such an in- 
 sulting way that it required Job's patience to listen to her. 
 I kept cool and let her talk until her breath gave out; then, 
 said I ; " Did you ever know me to ask anything from you ? 
 or from any Indian that you know? If I go around, it is 
 only for God's sake and to helj) those who wish to become 
 good and upright; thoso, however, wh(> .)refer to remain 
 pagans and dreamers are never molei^l^ hy me." This 
 answer seemed to exasperate her and sh; ! ;- w again worse 
 than before; so much so that her chikhi i: riterfcred and 
 endeavored to (|uiet her ck)wn. But now, my Indian, hav- 
 ing lost his pat^ioncv sn'd . " Shut your mouth ; I am just 
 
 tired of this. 
 
 ing tluit the adventure might end badly, 
 
 owing to my guide's gio-^i'^g too excited : " Come," .said I, 
 
 let 
 
 us nusn < ii 
 
 a litt'u- further " So we started and made 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 33 
 
 several miles more, satisfied that on the two preceding 
 days, if there had been no gain of souls, there had been at 
 least some trials patiently endured. We next camped at 
 White Stone, where the snow was about fourteen inches 
 deep. While preparing our evening meal, we laughed ove 
 the crazy fit of that learned Sempuelsh woman, until Edward 
 cried out " all is ready," and we sat down on the soft snow 
 to take our supper. By the way, perhaps you would like to 
 know what my fare was ! It was very wholesome. First we 
 melted some snow in our kjttle and then poured into it a 
 couple of handfuls of flour; this we stirred quickly and 
 when it had boiled and thickened a little, we poured the 
 contents into two tin dishes, and cheerfully swallowed it. 
 We acquired such proficiency in this manner of cooking, 
 that after the snow had melted, it took but a few minutes to 
 prepare our meal. The same bill of fare served for break- 
 fast, dinner and supper. Boiling the melted snow destroyed 
 all the impurities, but the odor was very disagreeable. Be- 
 sides this, we had a little tea nearly every day, and we 
 thought it a feast when we could get a little dried venison 
 or fish. However, in summer we change our food, as the 
 Indians do, and eat their roots with them, especially their 
 camas, which are nourishing and not bad when fresh. Once, 
 while among the Calispelem, I had nothing else but camas 
 to live upon, with some bad water scarcely fit for human 
 beings. At that time I was preaching to them four times a 
 day, and this work, upon such fare, impaired my health. I 
 became quite ill, and the Indians thinking I was going to 
 die, went to Colville Mission to ask for a father. One came 
 with some provisions, so I got better. Still my case was 
 not so bad as what happened to Fr. Joset among the Coeur 
 d'Alene. Whilst on one of his journeys, as he told me 
 himself, he was so destitute of food that he lived for about 
 two weeks on the moss which grows on black pine trees. 
 But this is a digression ; to return to my story. We put 
 up our tent and endeavored to make it as comfortable as 
 possible. We removed the snow from a spot in the centre, 
 to make a place to build a fire ; then taking some pieces of 
 bark, we spread them over the snow to keep the moisture 
 away from our feet and bed, and lastly having spread our 
 buffalo robes and a pair or two of blankets, our night's shel- 
 ter was prepared. Early the ne.xt morning, soon after prayer, 
 we made ready to cross, by the short Indian trail, the prairie 
 which is called the " Grand Cully Country," or sometimes, 
 the " Big Bend of the Columbia." The land is good, and 
 bunch-grass grows all over it; still there is lack of water for 
 such an immense distridl, and lack of woods, so that travel 
 
u 
 
 SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 is dangerous there in both winter and summer. You must 
 know all about the few willow-springs and the few willow- 
 thickets to be found in it, or else you will be liable to suffer 
 from thirst in summer, or to be frozen during the winter. 
 This land is now beginning to be settled very rapidly, its 
 great fertility being an attraftion for emigrants notwithstand- 
 ing the difficulties to be overcome. From the place where 
 we then were, it was necessary to travel at least forty -five 
 miles, before reaching any of those willow-thickets, even 
 going by the shortest trail. We started and went along 
 briskly for about three hours, but, at half-past nine or ten 
 o'clock, a snow-storm, which had been threatening since the 
 evening before, came down so heavily, that the woods be- 
 hind us, as well as the mountains on our right, were soon 
 lost to view. After a while the beaten trail began to disap- 
 pear, so that, being unable to follow it, our horses were 
 plunging in the deep snow and could hardly make any head- 
 way against it. Consulting with the guide, I said ; " What 
 are we to do now ? There is no fuel here ; it is very stormy ; 
 we cannot camp for no tent can stand the blowing of the 
 wind across this open prairie ; we have lost the road and 
 cannot hope to find any landmark in this blinding snow." 
 " Well, really," he replied, " I do not know what to say ; 
 the river must be on our right though." Stopping for a 
 moment, and looking around, imagining that I saw some- 
 thing, I said, "There is a wagon coming, how is that?" 
 Looking sharply my guide answered : " there is no wagon 
 at all to be seen." It proved to be that some deer running 
 before the storm had scented us and disappeared behind 
 a hill, leaving a trail which helped us greatly. We stopped 
 for about half an hour until the storm had somewhat abated, 
 so that we could get a glimpse of the mountains of the Co- 
 lumbia. Taking that direflion, and going down hill, it be- 
 came clear enough for us to observe a tree about three 
 quarters of a mile distant, approaching which we found 
 some fallen timber and encamped there, at about three o'clock 
 p. M. Towards evening, when the sky cleared up a little, 
 we found ourselves beside the Columbia at about four miles 
 from its banks, just in front of the mouth of the Sempuelsh 
 River. " Now here we are, among our enemies again," said 
 I to Edward. He answered : " I will go down and see the 
 camp of Kolaskan and ask them to take us across the Co- 
 lumbia." " Well," said I, " if you succeed in that you will 
 be a great man." He went and came back about dark, tell- 
 ing me that all his efforts had been fruitless, " Kolaskan," 
 said I, "is a poor wretch who has greatly deceived his own 
 people. He is a dreamer who sometimes shuts himself up 
 
 th 
 ve 
 sa 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 35 
 
 in his tent and allows no one to see him. Then he comes 
 out and tells his people that he has had a revelation from 
 heaven during his seclusion," The revelation he had a few 
 years ago was this : There will be a great flood over the 
 whole earth ; all human beings shall be destroyed ; but the 
 Sempuelsh Indians shall be saved, if they do what I com- 
 mand them. Then he told them to set to work and build a 
 large boat in which they were to take refuge as soon as the 
 flood began, which would be in the course of eight years 
 from the time of his revelation. The people began to saw 
 lumber with the whip-saw and had prepared about three 
 thousand feet of it for the building of such a boat. He en- 
 deavored to persuade some Catholics to do the same ; they 
 informed me and I spoke several times to the people to cau- 
 tion them agai'^st such nonsense. Then he began to preach 
 against the priest and the Catholic religion, and has excited 
 his own people so much, that at present it is imp>ossible to 
 do anything with that tribe, nor is it safe for a priest to go 
 among them. When Fr. Vanzina went to visit them, Kolas- 
 kan, crippled as he was, took a knife and tried to strike him, 
 while he was preaching, seeing which Fr. Vanzina jumped 
 on his horse and rode off. " So," said I to my guide, " if 
 that learned woman, the faithful servant of such a man, 
 abused us so furiously at White Stone, what will he do to 
 us himself? It will be better for us to go on to other pagans, 
 who may be willing to hear the word of God, than to lose 
 our time here." So the next day we travelled along the 
 Columbia, and after two more days' journey reached camp 
 Okinagan. There I found the commanding officer so kind 
 to me that I began to forget all past hardships. He invited 
 me to stay a while with him, but I was obliged to decline 
 his pressing invitation in order that the faithful discharge of 
 my duty towards the Indians may not have given him any 
 annoyance. I saw at about a quarter of a mile from the 
 camp two lodges of pagans of Moses's tribe. I went to see 
 them and to manrfest the objefl of my visit. I assembled 
 some of the people in a tent, where I began to explain the 
 Apo.stles' Creed, telling them that it contained the whole of 
 our faith. While looking around upon the assembly during 
 my speech, I noticed a little girl so seriously ill, that she 
 seemed to have but a short time to live and I was very anx- 
 ious to give her the life of grace through the saving waters 
 of Baptism. However, I concealed my desire for the time 
 being. Her father, whose name was " Little Wolf," told me 
 that he could not be the first to become a Christian and was 
 very desirous that I should speak with their chief; "for" 
 said he, " if you can convert him, you may be able to do 
 
86 
 
 SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 something with the rest of us." I thought such an answer 
 friendly enough and took leave of him, saying : " to-morrow 
 I will see you again." The next day I visited him twice 
 and pressed him to allow me to baptize the little girl ; " her 
 soul will become as white as snow," I added, " and if she 
 dies, will enjoy eternal happiness." He told me that as yet 
 he could not permit me to do such a thing, because, as there 
 were then no Christians at all in the tribe, Moses would be 
 angry with him if he were to be the first to let a priest bap- 
 tize children." Finding that I could do nothing, I left, say- 
 ing : " I will send for Moses and see what I can do with him." 
 The next day I saw that the little girl was worse so I sug- 
 gested going for the do6lor of the garrison and speaking to 
 him about her. To this the father agreed and seeing that 
 I took so much interest in the sick child said to me : "When 
 she is going to die, I will send for you and then you may 
 baptize her, if you please." Finally, on Christmas eve, the 
 father said to me : " I give her to you." This expression 
 meant a great deal in the case of Baptism, for it signified 
 that, not only would he permit me to baptize the child, but 
 that he himself would not interfere with her Catholic edu- 
 cation, and would do his best to see that she observed what- 
 ever her religion might require of her. So, I called in my 
 good Edward to be her godfather, and with as much so- 
 lemnity as possible I baptized her. Six days later, the father 
 sent a messenger to the mouth of the Okinagan, telling me 
 that Mary was dead. Poor little creature ! how much hap- 
 pier she is now than she would have been in her poor home ! 
 And how consoling the thought that the first flower of the 
 Sinkaensi has been safely transplanted to a garden where it 
 will never fade ! 
 
 Meanwhile the winter took a very bad turn. Wind-storms 
 raged all over the mountains and through the valleys, up- 
 rooting the most gigantic trees ; and frequent and heavy 
 snows covered the ground, while the thermometer for two 
 weeks had been ranging from i8° to 29° below zero. This 
 extreme cold caused great destruction among the cattle and 
 horses, and the rivers Smilgami and Okinagan were frozen 
 over. Even the swift Columbia was frozen, with the excep- 
 tion of about fifteen or twenty feet in the channel. This 
 sudden change caused a return of my fever and there I was 
 prostrate upon the snowy bank of the Columbia. About 
 the 27th or 28th of December, it being a bright day and the 
 thermometer indicating only 10° below zero, I said to my 
 guide : " I am feeling somewhat better to-day and think 
 that we had better hurry on. It is impossible to cross the 
 river here, so we must go further down and ask help from the 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 37 
 
 Indians ; most of my work is on the other side of the river." 
 We set out and travelled six miles when kind Providence 
 direfled us to go to a place on the Columbia where five men 
 were at work hauling fuel for the soldiers. The cold was 
 so intense, that they were forced to work to keep themselves 
 warm ; and though their huts were mostly under ground, 
 they kept a large fire constantly burning to avoid being fro- 
 zen to death I requested them to be kind enough to help 
 me to cross. They said that it was impossible as there was 
 no place to land on the other side. " Well," said I, " let us 
 try it at all events. To-morrow being Sunday, you will be 
 free to do this great a-Sl of charity ; for God's sake, help me 
 to cross. The salvation of many souls depends upon this 
 a6l of kindness on your part, and you may be assured that 
 God will not fail to reward you for it, upon your death-bed." 
 Touched by my earnest entreaties, they all volunteered to 
 assist me. The next day it was not so cold when they set 
 to work ; they had a large scow for hauling timber ; and 
 after cutting away all the ice around it and opening a chan- 
 nel in the middle of the river, they went down the bank to 
 see if they could recognize a fit landing-place on the other 
 side. A mile below, they discovered upon the opposite side 
 a large bay with ice-banks, and they thought that if they 
 could only get into that bay with their scow, it would be 
 easy to land the horses. As it was somewhat late in the 
 afternoon when they returned, they were afraid to venture 
 out again into the icy current in the darkness, so they de- 
 cided to wait over night. The next morning, the ice, newly 
 formed in the open channel, was hardly a quarter of an inch 
 thick, so it was quickly broken, and taking my four horses, 
 they put out into the stream. As soon as they were in the 
 current, they were carried down rapidly and after working 
 hard succeeded in entering the bay. One of the men jumped 
 upon the ice and secured the boat with a cable to the bank. 
 They then opened a new channel for a few yards, until they 
 found the ice solid enough to bear the horses, and thus 
 easily transferred them to the other side. But, coming back, 
 the four rowers, and two men with a rope, had very hard 
 work to pull the scow up against the strong current and a 
 worse time still in getting back to the landing to take me 
 across in turn. I was glad enough to get into that scow, 
 but to take me across was no easy matter ; however, by 
 about noon it was all accomplished. How kind these mei 
 were to me ! My guide remarked that but for their charitable 
 assistance, we should have been drowned in crossing, for 
 the floating ice would inevitably have upset any of the In- 
 dian canoes. 
 
38 
 
 SfCETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 We packed our horses at once and proceeded on our 
 journey. Old black Jim, going over the steep bank of the 
 river, missed his footing and tumbled flown so clumsily that 
 he sl'd upon the ice of the river for five or six yards, but 
 the Slow and the pack protefled him sufficiently, so that 
 with our help he got up again and went on unhurt. We 
 travelled about six miles, the weather beco'ning very cold 
 again, when towards the close of the afternvion we reached 
 " Fort Okinagan," where the Hudson Bay Company used to 
 keep a trading po.st. There I found a camp of wild Indians, 
 about five hundred in number, of the Sinkaensi, Tecoratem 
 and a portion of the Mitgawi tribes. They were indeed the 
 real Indians of old. Here I .saw that .spirit-dance of which 
 I have already given a description. The next day I rang 
 the bell for church, but nobody came ; they were all too 
 tired. I then sent my guide to call them to my lodge. 
 There were about ten Catholics who had assisted at the 
 spirit-dance; these tame to see me and then little by little 
 some of the pagans came in and among them the chief him- 
 self, Nmosize, who seemed to have the intention of getting 
 something out of me. When they were all there I began to 
 speak to them. " Last night," said I, " was for the devil, let 
 to-day be for God." Hardly had I said these words when 
 Nmosize got up, furious, saying to me : " Go away from my 
 land ; you always come here to reprove us for our customs. 
 Your Americans spent New-Year's day worse than we did. 
 I saw them drunk and .still drinking, quarrelling and fight- 
 ing. You are worse than we are, and yet you come here 
 and urge us to become Christians." I told him that those 
 who spent New- Year's day, as he described, either were not 
 Christians, or if they were, then they were not living up to 
 their religious belief Hence, even though their behavior 
 were as bad as he represented it, no discredit was thereby 
 thrown upon their religion. He interrupted me by saying : 
 " Now give me your buffalo robe, it is very cold here." " No," 
 said 1,1" for if I give it away I shall be frozen to death." " Do 
 you answer the chief in that way i'" " Yes," said I, " for I, 
 too, am a chief But now let me talk to the people. I came 
 here for the purpose of teaching them the word of God and 
 of giving them the opjiortunity of embracing the Christian 
 religion." He then said : " I will not allow you to talk to 
 them : nobody asked you to come here ; we do not want 
 your religion, we follow that of our forefathers. You heard 
 our prayer last night, you saw our customs ; these we learned 
 from our fathers who were a noble and glorious people. If 
 we follow their example, we shall be as they were. And 
 you have come here to tell us that these customs are bad, 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 39 
 
 that we should give them up. You are an imposter." Then 
 he added, to change the subje6l ; " Now give me your buf- 
 falo robe and I will give you two horses." I replied: "I 
 value my life more than the two horses you offer me ; even 
 were you to give me your whole herd of horses, I would 
 not let the buffalo robe go." " Now," answered he, " I have 
 caught you, I gave you the right name when I called you 
 an imposter. You call yourself a father and you say that 
 we are your children, I never saw a father refuse his children 
 either clothing or food. I am freezing, and I asked you for 
 a robe to cover myself, and you deny it to me. You are 
 deceiving us ; you are not our father, go away from our 
 land." " Nmosize," said I, " you know better ; you are mak- 
 ing use of this pretext to excite the feelings of your people 
 against me. You know very well that I am poor and that 
 my only obje6l in coming here is that you may embrace the 
 Christian religion. Your people know this too, and if you 
 were not present they would come to hear the in.stru6lion I 
 am waiting to give them, Then, after having thought the 
 matter over, some of them, perhaps many, would bring their 
 child, "n to be baptized and, in a short time, would make up 
 theii linds to become Christians themselves. You alone 
 will be to blame that God's will is not manifested to them. 
 Before long you will appear before God's judgment-seat to 
 give an account of your wrong-doing, and I assure you that 
 God will deal with you as you deserve. If you had not been 
 here, there would have been no scandal last night and all 
 these people would have listened to my words. I will go 
 now because I have no time to lose in idle and unprofitable 
 talk, but next summer I will go down the Cheilan where 
 your people live and I will build a chapel among them." 
 He said again : " Go away, and do not trouble me any 
 longer," and so the meeting ended. I kept my word, how- 
 ever, and the next summer, I went to the Cheilan and built 
 a chapel, while he was ab.sent, vhere I had two baptisms 
 and made many friends among the people. When he re- 
 turned and saw what I had done, he became so enraged that 
 he set fire to the chapel and destroj d it. 
 
 At this time the chief of the Mitgawi Indians, Kolossas- 
 kat, approached me saying : " These people are bad, they 
 do not want the priest ; come to sec us, we are nearly all 
 Catholics." I said : " very well, get ready, I will start with 
 you." It was then the 4th of January, and I was about two 
 hundred miles from the mi.ssion ; my provisions were get- 
 ting low, and my horses growing thin, and I was still about 
 a hundred miles from the central obje6l of my mission 
 among the Catholic Indians. I soon started and travelled 
 
40 
 
 SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 about twelve miles north along the Okinagan River, and at 
 dark I reached the small tribe of Kolossaskat. The Indians 
 had seen me at some little distance and so came out of their 
 lodges and were waiting to welcome me. Dismounting, I 
 shook hands with every one of them ; and they put up my 
 tent, brought me fuel, and after half an hour I rang the bell 
 for prayer. There were about seventy souls, all told ; some 
 of them had not seen a priest for two years and were very 
 anxious that I should remain a week with them, but I could 
 not, fny time was too limited. I told the" I would remain 
 three days, spending the feast of the Epiphany with them. 
 I preached to them four times a day and spent the rest of 
 the time in private instru6lion. I was truly edified to see 
 those wild creatures so earnest to do right. Although their 
 chief was a man of no account, and a few pagans among 
 them were rather immoral, still the general tendency of the 
 tribe was very edifying. All day long, between my instruc- 
 tions, men and women filled my tent, to learn how to baptize 
 children in danger of death, or when the Ember-days would 
 fall, or when Lent would begin ; or what kind of work should 
 be avoided on Sunday, and what was allowed. They listened 
 to my explanations with great eagerness and divided them- 
 selves into three different parties, each in its own way to 
 mark those things either in the mind or on some sticks. 
 Some had .strings, made of deer skin ; in one they made as 
 many knots as the number of weeks to elapse before Lent 
 began, and in the other the number of days. They were 
 very anxious to learn their prayers and their catechism, and 
 they knelt whilst learning their prayers. After having re- 
 peated them so many times with me, they would go home 
 and spend all their time saying them over and over again, 
 until they had learned them by heart. On the day of the 
 Epiphany I baptized three boys, calling them by the respec- 
 tive names of the Three Magi ; one of these was the son of 
 a pagan. I said Mass and had about twenty-five communi- 
 cants and they were all very sorry that I could remain among 
 them only so short a time. 
 
 When I left they helped me to cross the Okinagan which 
 was frozen, though insecure at some points on the other 
 side. The road was bad on account of deep snow, still the 
 Indian trail was sufficiently visible and we were able to ad- 
 vance that day twelve or fifteen miles north-west along the 
 frozen river. The fever which had returned was troubling 
 me greatly ; the quinine I took seemed to do me no good, 
 but only to affe6l my head very disagreeably. Some snow 
 began to fall the next day, and in the evening we had such 
 a great wind-storm that it was impossible to keep a fire in- 
 
S/^ETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 41 
 
 side our tent ; for the little time we had it we were in great 
 danger of a conflagration. We travelled another day along 
 the Okinagan, and then my trials began to be very severe. 
 There was no tuel to be had but some willow-brush, in the 
 midst of which we camped and to which we tied our tents ; 
 there was no feed for the horses and the snow was deep. 
 The guide said to me ; " Father, the horses are giving out, 
 I am afraid we may have trouble." Looking around, we 
 spied on the other side of the river some wild rye sticking 
 out above the snow and we drove our horses over there. I 
 shall never forget that place ; the mountain en the east side 
 of the river is rocky, perpendicular and almost bare, with a 
 space of about twenty yards between its base and the shore. 
 The river forks, and forms an island which is over-spread 
 with very thick brush. To the north, there is a narrow 
 pas.sage between two immense rocks ; this is the spot where 
 the Okinagan used to lie in wait to fall upon the white man 
 and surprise him, as he peacefully passed through the coun- 
 try on his way to the gokl regions. As soon as he was in 
 that narrow passage, they would rush down upon him, rob 
 him and kill him. These things happened many years ago 
 when there had been trouble and war with the north-western 
 tribes, which was put an c\\f\ to by Colonel Wright. If 
 what my guide told me be true, the Indian, who was chief 
 at that time, put a stop to such lawlessness in a very sum- 
 mary manner. He knew of an Indian who had murdered 
 a white man, and there also happened to be a white man 
 around there who had murdered an Indian, so he took them 
 both and hanged them, the Indian at the northern entrance 
 to that gap and the white man at the southern. This pro- 
 ceeding spread all through that part of the country and put 
 an end to such deeds. It was a gloomy spot, and in my 
 feverish condition suggested the thought that this would 
 probably be my last trip. In the eveninfr my Indian guide 
 said to me : " Why did you ever leave • lission for such 
 a horrible journey as this ; here we are m danger and our 
 horses all giving out." " Do not be afraid," said I, " God is 
 with us." During the night, more snow fell and as we were 
 about to .start the next morning the storm increased. I was 
 so exhausted by fever and was so very dizzy that I could 
 not mount my horse without great distress and the assist- 
 ance of my guide, and then I found that I could not keep 
 my seat in the saddle. Our animals refused to face the 
 storm that was raging, and so we could not make any head- 
 way, but were doomed to spend another day in that sad spot. 
 The following day, however, we started again ; the snow 
 was so deep that often our horses were obliged to plough 
 
12 
 
 Sh'ETCIfES OF MODER.X IS D IAN LIFE. 
 
 through it chcst-dcq). After going on for about two miles, 
 we came upon the trail made by a here' of cattle moving 
 southward to avoid the storm, which was coming from the 
 north. As they came from the (juarter to which we were 
 going, we thought that to retrace their footsteps would leatl 
 us in the right direftion, but after going on for about two 
 miles or more we discovered that we were wrong. We then 
 turned and crossed the prairie, and after being in the saddle 
 from half-past eight in the morning till after three in the 
 afternoon, we had made but six miles headway owing to the 
 difficulties which we had encountered. We were in a gulch, 
 that is to say, a narrow strip of prairie, about an eight of a 
 mile in width, bordered on the west by the steep and rocky 
 range of the Smilgami Mountains, and on the east by hills 
 whose :;ummits were sufficiently uncovered to allow the 
 bunch-grass upon them to be seen. Here we stopped to 
 camp. My horses were so exhausted that I gave them some 
 flour, which they ate very eagerly • ;n I let them loose to 
 graze, thinking they would not ' away. I was mis- 
 
 taken, for while we were putting u^ ..\.( tent and preparing 
 our fuel, they, scenting a coming storm, set their faces south- 
 ward, and how they disappeared is more than I can say. 
 We had pitched our tent on level ground in the midst of a 
 pine-grove, nor had we any thought that it might be a dan- 
 gerous place. During the night wc had another heavy fall 
 of snow with a high wind, and in the morning all trails and 
 all traces of the horses had disappeared. My guide went 
 out to search for them and was gone the whole of that 
 gloomy day ; at night he came back crying. I was lying 
 prostrate with the fever, seeing which he said to me : " Fa- 
 ther, you arc already a dead man ; our horses have disap- 
 peared, leaving no trace behind ; the cold is intense, our 
 provisions are nearly gone and we are very far from the 
 nearest Indian hou.se." " Don't fear." said I, " God's will be 
 done I He will help us." Then I began to talk to him and 
 to prepare him for any event, and what he said to me in 
 reply showed his piety and spirit of .sacrifice. " I am ready 
 to die ; I thought of this when I started, and I am glad to 
 give up my life for the sake of Christ and for the salvation 
 of the Indians." He then began to prepare supper, think- 
 ing all the time what he had better do ; but seeing no means 
 of escape he kept repeating : " Poor priest ! You must die !" 
 After supper, quite late in the night, he awoke me, telling 
 me that the next day I must chop wood all day long, and 
 he would go out to reconnoitre the place, and try to find 
 out which direflion to take in order to reach the nearest 
 Indians and to send them to my rescue ; and on the follow- 
 
s/CETCfJF.s OF Am/)/: AW /,vn/.i.y i ife. 
 
 48 
 
 iny (lay he would start off for help to save himself and me. 
 I told him that I would rather follow him than remain 
 alone in that wikierness, but he said ; " No, it is b'-tter for 
 you to die here in peace than after a long struggle to be 
 buried in the snow." The next morning, right after prayer, 
 he went off and when he came back in the evening and 
 looked at the little jmIc, which I had split with such labor 
 and ilifficulty, he was surprised to find it so small. " I have 
 enough here," said I. " Now tell me the result of your ob- 
 .servation.s." " I think we are about thirty-five miles from 
 Francois (one of the chiefs of the Okinagan), and it will 
 take me three days to reach there. To-morrow morning I 
 will set forth, and if God helps me not to miss my footing 
 in the snow, I will see you again ; if not, then you will never 
 hear of me and I shall see you no more." He baked all 
 the flour we had into thn little cakes, upon which two 
 people were to subsist for three or four days. Looking at 
 the cakes, he began to cry, saying : " O, father ! You will 
 die ! No fuel ! No provisions ! How can you live ?" " God 
 will take care of me," .said I. " You must take two of the 
 cakes for your provision, one is enough for me." Early the 
 next morning he said tome: " My heart is all right now 
 and I am ready to die ; let me make my confession and start 
 out ; if God helps me, you shall .see me again ; if not, I am 
 .satisfied, pray for me !" I tried to conceal my emotion, but 
 his words fell heavily upon my heart and my fever was in- 
 creasing. After he had made his confession, we partook of 
 a portion of the bread together with some tea. Then he 
 took the a.xe and two blankets, and making all into a little 
 bundle, fastened it on his shoulders with straps. Then he 
 took a long slender rod to sound the snow in dangerous 
 places, and kneeling down before me, asked my blessing, 
 saying : " pray for me, father." Getting up he grasped my 
 hand, saying : " I leave you alone, but if God helps me I 
 will come back for you ; otherwise we shall never hear of 
 each other again, but my heart is good." I watched him 
 until he di.sappeared from my sight, tears flowing freely from 
 my eyes. Good, faithful Indian guide, who willingly vent- 
 ured his own life to save mine ! 
 
 Imagine for a moment what must have been my feelings, 
 when first left to that unbroken solitude, afflifled as I was 
 with that burning fever. However, summoning all my cour- 
 age, I began to prepare myself for any event. The first 
 night I passed alone was a sleepless one. Every time that 
 I adverted to the roaring of the wild wind upon the moun- 
 
44 
 
 SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 tains and the constantly increasing depth of the snow, my 
 heart sank at the thought of the fate that might befall my 
 devoted guide. As for myself, being in a thick pine-grove 
 I was sufficiently sheltered, nor had I any thought of what 
 might be under the snow, but the idea of Edward's danger 
 caused me great anxiety. The next day, towards eviening 
 the weather took a sudden change ; the air grew warmer, so 
 warm, in fa6l, that I perspired under my heavy covering of 
 buffalo robe. The whole night the south wind, which is 
 called chinook, melted a great deal of snow, so that on the 
 third morning of my solitude I awoke to find my feet in 
 water, and I discovered from the water running through my 
 Lent that I had encamped upon the bed of a creek. I got 
 up in a hurry and taking my bedding, saddle and all the 
 rest of my traps, went and hung them upon the small pine- 
 trees to dry. Then, with very great effort, as I was so 
 weakened by fever, I pulled down my tent and brought it 
 over to the slope of the hill. I lost several articles in the 
 water, among others my spectacles, so I was worse off than 
 I was before. By working hard for several hours I was able 
 to save some of the fuel and my bedding. T put up my 
 tent the best way I could, and then quite exiausted I lay 
 down upon the ground. 
 
 Meanwhile, my good guiile with undaunted courage was 
 facing the snow and the wind, and having found his direc- 
 tion, travelled upon the frozen bed of the Okinagan and in 
 two days reached the house of Francois, one of the chiefs 
 of the tribe. He told the people of the danger in which he 
 had left me and urged them to lose no time in going to my 
 rescue. Two men, asking information as to where I was to 
 be found, started at once ; but they missed the place and 
 sought for me on the other side of the hill, about two miles 
 from where 1 was. Seeing no traces of any Inunan being, 
 they came to the conclusion that the powerful wind had 
 blown down my tent, and had buried me in a drift. As 
 they were very much attached to me, they remainetl in that 
 place for two days, removing the snow all art)und to see if 
 they could find any trace of my person, but they did not 
 succeed. Another Indian left the next morning for the 
 Smilgami, about .seventy miles from that place, to give the 
 news to Father Pandosi, of the Oblates, and to tell him to 
 be ready to com.; dovn for my burial, as everv one said I 
 certainly could not bealiv'e. This news .spread immediately 
 among the Indians and produced a great sensation; they 
 mourned over me and said to eaeli oilier : " The father died 
 for our sins." 
 
 tmec 
 than 
 have 
 snow 
 on so 
 were 
 we h; 
 was S( 
 reach( 
 
SICETCHRS OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 46 
 
 him to 
 
 T 
 
 The chief, Francois, having heard my guide's story, said 
 to his eldest son : " L ook for the horses before daybreak ; 
 pick out five of the best of them, also the easiest and gentlest 
 riding pony." Then to his wife ; " bake bread now." So 
 she baked three lo:ives in a Dutch oven. Then he prepared 
 a quarter of a yearling, he had dressed that day, and made 
 everything ready for an early start. He told Edward to be 
 off the next morning as soon as they could get ready, and 
 not to mind the horses ; " drive fast enough to make the 
 trip in one day ; if they die, they will be sacrificed to save 
 our father's life." Thus they came to my rescue. 
 
 Meanwhile, I was lying upon my buffalo robe with very 
 little hope of being saved. Towards evening I imagined 
 that I heard the voice of a human being, and starting im- 
 mediately out of the lodge, I cri-^d aloud so as to be heard 
 at a distance ; but no answer came back save the echo of 
 the mountains and so I went back to rest again. After a 
 while I thought I heard the trot of horses, and placing my 
 car to the ground I heard it more distinftly, and just as I 
 was preparing to go out, I heard a voice calling me by name ; 
 " Oh, Alexa r It was Franqois with my faithful guide. As 
 soon as they saw me looking so much better than they had 
 cxpcfled, they greatly rejoiced, and as for me I could not 
 help weeping for joy over such evidences of the charity of my 
 .spiritual children. They immediately began to arrange my 
 tent in a more comfortable way and drew out the provisions 
 they had brought to refresh me. I was surprised to see so 
 much and asked ; " why all this bread and meat ?" Francois 
 replied : " You have been starved for three days, and we 
 want you to do as we do in such cases, and that is, to make 
 up in one meal for all you have mis.sed." I laughed at the 
 idea, but still it showed their good feeling towards me. He 
 then tied his horses to trees for fear of losing them, but 
 they had nothing to eat that night. He said they were des- 
 tined to die to save me, and they could not do it any better 
 than in that way. After supper he related to me all that I 
 have tc'd above and early the next morning we left. The 
 snow was deep only in places, but the horses were pushed 
 on so fast that they scarcely had a chance io sec where they 
 were going. One of them fell doA'n a little precipice and 
 we had a great time to get him up, and one of his legs 
 was so badly hurt that it bled al! the time. By evening we 
 reached Franqois' house, and there I found about forty In- 
 dians, who had come f-'Cui their farms around to see the 
 success of the expedition. They were all sorry for my mis- 
 fortunes, and all said that it was for their sins that I was 
 
46 
 
 SICETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 suffering. Poor people ! they were very good considering 
 the few opportunities they had, not seeing a priest more 
 than three times a year. I recited prayers with them, and 
 then gave a short instru6tion, telling them that the next 
 Sunday they must all come to Mass at Michael's place. 
 The next morning I said Mass in Franqois' house, where 
 about twelve persons received Holy Communion, and I 
 passed the rest of the day there to recruit a little, going on 
 the following morning to Michael's. This Indian had al- 
 ways been very good to me and had put up a very nice little 
 room adjoining his own house, with a comfortable chimney 
 for the use of the priest. As soon as I reached there, he 
 sen word to the Indians all around, and for a couple of 
 days my house was filled with them, coming and going. 
 Seeing my destitute condition, they brought me such quan- 
 tities of provisions, flour, sugar, tea, meat and fruits, that 
 when I started again I could not take half of the gifts away 
 with me. My past hardships were now forgotten. I had 
 church for two days, Saturday and Sunday, and I remained 
 there about a week to help and instru6l the Indians. I had 
 about fifty Communions ; and in order to .spare me, as I was 
 not very strong yet, they brought the sick people to my 
 house for confession. These Indians arc doing wonderfully 
 well ; they all live in good substantial houses, have good 
 farms of their own and are well advanc>jd in civilization. 
 The kindness they showed on this occasion was truly won- 
 derful. 
 
 These Catholic Indians arc really very nice, indeed, in 
 their ways. Nearly all of them are settled upon farms and 
 raise wheat, oats and vegetables, not only for their own use, 
 but also for market. They live in good, substantial houses, 
 have cooking stoves and utensils ; some of them are so far 
 advanced in civilization as to be as well supplied in this re- 
 spefl as their white neighbors. One striking feature of 
 their civilization is neatness, to which they pay great atten- 
 tion, I once accompanied an army officer, who was travel- 
 ing on duty through that Reservation, lie could scarcely 
 credit what ^ told him regarding the civilization of these 
 Indians, and when he saw it for himself he hardly believed 
 his own eyes. " This house or that," he would say, " must 
 belong to a white man ?" " No sir," was my answer, " it be- 
 longs to such an Indian." He needed oats for his pack- 
 train, and provisions for his escort, so he incjuired whether 
 there were any whites around from whom he could purchase 
 supplies. I told him there were a couple of old settlers 
 there, with their families, but I did not know whether they 
 
 nut 
 
 the 
 ty- 
 all 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 47 
 
 
 could serve him, but I was sure that any of the Indians 
 could supply him. He went to see the two families whom 
 I mentioned but they could do nothing for him. When he 
 came back in the evening, I said to him, " you can get what 
 you want from any of the Indians along the road." He 
 said : " well, to-morrow we will try it." The next day we 
 reached an Indian house, and I suggested that we should 
 try there, so I knocked at the door, but no answer came. 
 I opened it and we went in. The officer was astonished to 
 find everything so nice and clean and in such good order. 
 " Father," said he, " you don't tell me that this is an Indian's 
 house ? This family surely must be full-blooded American," 
 " Well," said I, " they are, no doubt, full-blooded Americans, 
 but of the race which was here before the discovery of the 
 continent." I went out to the field, where the Indians were 
 at work, and called them ; they came in, and supplied him 
 with all the things he asked, and as much as he wanted. 
 This seemed to make an impression upon the officer, and 
 while we were at supper, he remarked to me : " Here we are 
 in the Indian country ; we find white men, who have been 
 settled here for twenty-five or thirty years, that have not so 
 much as a grain of oats nor a pound of butter to sell, where- 
 as the Indians have enough not only for themselves, but to 
 help the traveller." " Well," said I, " it appears that these 
 Indians arc just as capable, and more so, of civilization, as 
 the class of whites so long settled among them." Such is 
 the condition of these Catholic Indians called Okinagan ; 
 the difference in behavior and customs between them and 
 the neighboring tribes of Snipkein (American head) and the 
 northern tribe of Ncspeelem is very striking. These latter 
 live almost altogether in lodges, and make little or no prog- 
 ress in tilling the soil or in earning a livelihood by farming. 
 If we could have had means to establish a mission and 
 school among the Okinagan, they would by this time hold 
 a foremost rank among civilized Indians. What a pity that 
 some generously disposed persons cannot be found to sup- 
 ply this need and thus enable the missionaries to go on with 
 their work of Christianizing and civilizing such a large 
 number I 
 
 My next journey extended farther north, across the boun- 
 dary line above Lake Sooyons, to visit a small but noble 
 tribe of which Tckomtiken is chief Towards evening, I 
 reached their little town, which is situated a few miles above 
 the line. They have a nice little chapel and around it twen- 
 ty-five or thirty dwellings. As soon as they saw me, they 
 all came to welcome me and received me with much pleas- 
 
48 
 
 SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 ure and kindness. I learned from them how they spend 
 their winters there, for the rest of the year they work on 
 their farms. Father Pandosi, of the order of the Oblates, 
 who h'ved not far away, came down from the Smilgami to 
 see his own Indians, so we met and spent two weeks to- 
 gether. He was unable to say Mass for several days on 
 account of having sprained his foot by a fa!) from his horse, 
 so I had to preach daily to the Indians. The Okinagan 
 from below the line also came to spend Sunday and we had 
 some sixty or more communicants. From there I went 
 back to Michael's hou.se and then started off for the Smil- 
 gami, to keep my word to the ch.\ti Zagzagpakein " the bare 
 or bald head." When I met him travelling along the Okin- 
 agan he said to me : " Black robe, do not fail to go to see 
 my tribe ; there are many Catholics there waiting for you, 
 to go to confession. I am not one my.self, nor are my three 
 wives, but all my children are. I have a baby to be baptized, 
 so go there by all means." So I went to a place on the 
 western side of the Smilgami River about four miles from 
 the 49th parallel. The mountains are very lofty and steep, 
 and the southern slope generally bare or with very little 
 vegetation. The country extending from there down along 
 the western bank of the Okinagan is not generally very 
 good soil for farming, compared with tl.at of Washington 
 Territory or Idaho, but it is one of the best stock-raising 
 ranges that I ever saw. The ground is covered all the way 
 through with bunch-grass ; the powerful winds, which blow 
 nearly every day during the winte/ season, keep the tops 
 and the sides of the hills clear of snow, while the many 
 gulleys, which run in every direflion, afford good shelter 
 for cattle during heavy storms. As many as twelve thou- 
 sand head of cattle have been herded in this place at one 
 time. The Smilgami Lake is about four miles from the In- 
 dian settlement, which I reached at about dark, and .spent 
 some time with Mr. Phelps, who had his headquarters there, 
 so as to watch over his immense herds of cattle. While 
 there, the son of one of the chiefs of the tribe came to call 
 me, and to tell me that his father was dying and wanted to 
 see me. The man'5 lodge being near, I did not take a horse, 
 but went on foot. There was a creek to be crossed, about 
 sixteen or eighteen feet wide, which w.is not frozen, but was 
 flowing very rapidly, and seeing that a tree laid across, as I 
 supposed, I ventured to go over on it. When part way over, 
 I discovered, what I had not perceived in the darkness, that 
 the tree reached only to the middle of the stream, and in 
 trying to turn back, my foot slipped and I tumbled into the 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 » 
 
 creek. I then found the current so strong, that I was in 
 danger of being carried away by it, but fortunately, before 
 being drawn under the tree, I managed to seize hold of it, 
 and it was only after some time and with much difficulty 
 that I succeeded at last in drawing myself out. I found by 
 experience that a winter bath in that region was not so 
 pleasant. While I was getting dry by the fire, the chief's 
 son came again to ask me to hurry up and come to see his 
 father. I told him that I did not care for a second bath, and 
 that if he wanted me he must take me over. He agreed, 
 but there being no other way to do it he was obliged to 
 carry me on his back to the other side. When I entered 
 the sick man's lodge, he got up and asked me to take his 
 place. Then he addressed me in this way : " Black-robe, 
 my soul is black and I am afraid of burning in hell ; have 
 pity on me and baptize me now, and make my soul as white 
 as snow. All my children are Catholics ; they say their 
 prayers daily and have taught them to me. When I first 
 heard the black-robe, I was struck by the holiness of the 
 Christian religion, and I wished to embrace it, but it was 
 too hard for me, as I had walked so far along the muddy 
 road. Still the beauty and holiness of prayer was always 
 before me, and I tried my best to become good and to be 
 baptized. Then I began t-> keep Lent and to abstain on 
 Fridays, and to say my prayers regularly. I went to see the 
 priest about being baptized, but he required of me to prom- 
 ise to avoid all evil. I began to think that if I should make 
 that promise and then fail in it afterwards, I should be un- 
 faithful to God and a liar to Him, and this frightened me 
 greatly. I came home, dismissed one of my wives and tried 
 my best to be a good man, and for four years, now, I have 
 not failed in anything grievously. Sometimes I tell the 
 children a small lie, or talk loud (get mad) with the men ; 
 but that is all. So I think, now, that I am fit to become a 
 Christian, and I beg you to baptize me." " Very well," said 
 I, " if you arc ready, to-morrow morning I will do so." The 
 next morning, after I had baptized him and his wife, he said ; 
 " I am very glad now that the whole family belongs to Jesus 
 Christ." In the afternoon he came to tell me that, although 
 he was very glad in one half of his heart, he was wrong in 
 the other half The reason of this was that his daughter 
 was dying, had already received the last sacraments, and he 
 thought she could not live more than two or three days 
 longer. " I wish," continued he, " that God would restore 
 my daughter to health." I told him that the day of Bap- 
 tism was a great day, and that, as God had bestowed such a 
 
50 
 
 SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE 
 
 favor upon him as to make him his adopted child and heir 
 of Heaven, perhaps, if he prayed very hard, He would jjjive 
 him the additional grace of his daughter's restoration to 
 health. " Then," he said, " I will pray and you pray for 
 me." He did so with great faith, and on the third day, as 
 I was making my preparations for departure on the follow- 
 ing day, he came to me saying : " My heart is all good now ; 
 my child is well ; come to see her." I went and saw her 
 playing with other children apparently in good health. This 
 good man died some time after I had left the Okinagan 
 country, to go back to the mission. 
 
 The time for my return to the mission was now approach- 
 ing. Rock Creek Mountain, over which the 49th parallel 
 passes, was covered with snow about five feet deep, but not 
 hard enough to bear the weight of the horses. I was at a 
 loss how to plan out my trip and so I had recourse to the 
 Okinagan Indians. The chief told me that it would not be 
 possible for me to cross there then and advised me to wait 
 awhile. I told him that I must be back by the i8th of 
 March and therefore hoped he would find some way for me 
 to get over that mountain. He left me and after three days 
 returned saying : " Get ready to-day, and to-morrow you are 
 to start." At about noon, five Indian guides, each one pro- 
 vided with a tall gentle horse, a pair of snow-shoes in his 
 hand, and a herd of about fifteen horses, not yet broken for 
 riding, came to my door saying : " we are starting now and 
 you will follow us to-morrow." So they left and made not 
 quite four miles. When I went after them the next day, 
 the snow was not yet so deep as to prevent me from riding, 
 and I reached the party at about five miles from Michael's 
 house, the place I left. Then I became aware what a tre- 
 mendous effort those poor Indians were making. One led 
 the way, walking on snow-.shoes, and his gentle horse, .see- 
 ing their prints, ventured to put his own foot there, and then 
 began to plunge in the snow, which was deep enough to 
 cover his body, often only his head appearing above it. The 
 little band of horses followed slowly, and so they opened a 
 trail in which I walked, it being altogether impossible for 
 me to ride, as the trail was only the width of the body of a 
 horse. The snow was so deep, that, for about three miles, 
 I could not .see above the wall of it on either side of me, 
 and when from the roughness of the trail I lost my balance, 
 it held me up and kept me from falling. The direftion was 
 hard to find, and consultations among my guides were fre- 
 quent. The cold was so inten.se that, although walking and 
 struggling to get along, we were obliged to set fire to sev- 
 
sKETcirRS on modern indtan life. 
 
 51 
 
 cral pitch trees to warm ourselves and be able to go on. 
 By noon the worst was over ; but we dared not stop for din- 
 ner, because unless we got through that day we should be 
 exposed to the danger of losing our horses, which had gone 
 without food the previous night. So by struggling the 
 whole day, before sunset we came in sight of the mountains 
 cast of Rock Creek and just at dark arrived there. We re- 
 freshed our horses as best we could, but the anxiety about 
 them in such cases is very great, since our lives depend 
 upon their strength and good order. I visited that little 
 tribe of Indians and then left for the mission arriving there 
 just on the i8th of March. 
 
 From all this it will be seen that the conversion and civ- 
 ilization of the Indians is no small undertal'ing. The fruit 
 of this journey appears very small ; the Baptism of three 
 adults and five children ; 250 Communions and about 300 
 Confessions. The field is vast, the pagans are numerous, 
 and often, in spite of all our efforts, we can see but a small 
 portion of our Catholics in each journey, on account of the 
 difficulties arising from the season and the state of the roads 
 and streams. Yet our labors have had a sufficient result. 
 We first started the mission of the Flat-heads, who all be- 
 came Catholics. After they were settled, we opened the St. 
 Ignatius Mission among the Pend Oreille and they, too, all 
 became Catholics, taking in the small tribe of the Kotonie 
 below the line, camping above and along the Flat-head Lake. 
 From there we went among the Cceur d'Alene, and these, 
 too, without exception, became an addition to the Church. 
 Then the Calispelem were all gained to Chri.st, and from 
 there the Colvillc Indians and Snai.scsti and Kettle River 
 Indians embraced Chri.stianity. The Colville Mission has 
 been our advanced post for conquering the Sempuelsh and 
 Okinagan Indians, and with no small progress, as the north- 
 ern Okinagans and Smii^.i...! have all been gained. The 
 tlifliculty of their conversion suggested the idea of opening 
 another mission at the furthest end of this family, admitting 
 also the Jakima Indians to share the fruits of our labors. 
 Yet, pagans are cjuite numerous between the Colville and 
 Jakima Missions, with small hope in the near future of con- 
 quering their hearts to Jesus Chri.st. Besides these, we 
 have some Catholics among the Spokane Indians, the Ncz 
 Perces and the Jakima, so that west of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains we have been blessed by kind ProvidencA To the 
 east the field of our labors was barren for many years; at 
 l)rcsent, God seems to have touched the minds and hearts of 
 those wild beings and to have opened them to the influence 
 
 182" ^4 
 
SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 of his grace. The conversion of the Blackfeet, Assiniboin, 
 and Crow Indians has far exceeded our expedlations, not- 
 withstanding all outside difficulties arising from the malice 
 of interested parties. Two other missions among them are 
 greatly needed, and two more missionaries stationed in their 
 midst would find more than sufficient to keep them em- 
 ployed. Besides this, the west, too, needs a new mission in 
 the Colville Reservation, as Catholics there have multiplied 
 to such an extent as to require a resident priest and schools. 
 Whoever knows anything about our missions, will see that 
 my statements are really below the truth, still, I have said 
 enough to show that our work is going 
 under God's favor and providence. 
 
 A question, though, which the general 
 sider more important, is this. Admitting 
 have converted numbers of Indians ; have they hitherto suc- 
 ceeded in civilizing any of them ? The next chapter shall 
 be the answer to this question, by giving an account of the 
 tribe which has, at present, made the greatest advances in 
 civilization. 
 
 on rather fairly 
 
 reader may con- 
 that missionaries 
 
 nmg, 
 
 ;i iitti 
 (linn<. 
 for til 
 
 tllC II 
 tllCMll 
 
 a few 
 moriii 
 
 at! 
 I 
 
 11 
 
 wards 
 st-e ho 
 iiad c( 
 about 
 <l'A!ci 
 to wcs 
 tllc sol 
 and ro| 
 ■^ivc w 
 
 PlLMltifl 
 
SK^ETCHKS OF MODERy INDIAX LIFE. 
 
 fiS 
 
 CllAI'TKK IV. 
 
 THE CfF.UR d'aLENE. — A PICTURE OF THE TRIliK WHICH 
 MAS NOW MADE THE GREATEST ADVANCES IN CIVILIZATION. 
 
 
 The Cceiir d'Alcnc, whose pro-^n-ess in civilization I am 
 about to describe, were formerly considered very wild In- 
 dians, and very difficult to be niana^ed. The traders of the 
 Hudson liay Company called them Cteur d'Alene, or 
 "pointed hearts," on account of their savage disposition 
 and excitable nature. They did not dare attempt to live 
 among these Indians, and no white man could go through 
 their country unmolested. Their boast was that they had 
 fought with all the neighboring tribes and con([uered them. 
 The missionaries had a hard time among them in tlie begin- 
 ning, for the duplicity of their character presented great 
 obstacles in the way of religion. At first they were tamed 
 a little by the tlistribution of a large alms; by giving them 
 dinners two or three times a war ; by furnisliing medicine 
 (or the sick and taking care of the aged and lieipless. Hav- 
 ing; g.iined them o\er in this way, so that it became safe for 
 the missionar)' to remain among them, he began to gi\e 
 them instruction in the Christian religion, and after a while 
 a few were baptized. Religious principles repeated to them 
 morning and evening began slowly to work their way, the 
 lathers grew to be respe6ted, and coinersions wv.xv made. 
 
 In the year 1X76, I was sent among them ami when, to- 
 wards the nu'ddle of August I reached the mission, I could 
 see how much our missionaries had already obtained. They 
 had coIle6led the people upon a hillside, which comprised 
 about a iumdred acres, at the foot of which ran the C(eur 
 d'Alene River, surrounding it by a graceful bend from east 
 to west, and copiously supplied with mountain trout. To 
 the south, east and north lay mountain ranges, some bare 
 and rocky but most of them covered with thick and exten- 
 sive woods; |)ine, tamarack, cetlar, birch and red fir grew 
 plentifully in that wild region, the home of the bear and the 
 
54 
 
 sk-RTCfiRs OF .irohFAW i.xru.w r.rrE. 
 
 wolf. To the eastward of the hill was a small patch of land, 
 somethinjT like eighty or a lumdrcd acres, where the soil 
 was very rich and well adapted to cultivation, producing 
 year after year an abundant crop of timothy and some j^rain, 
 and to the north of the hill extended a jjiece of land which 
 also contained some good soil. The climate generally 
 was not extremely colcl, although in winter the snow was 
 quite deep and remained upon the ground from tiie k::\\<\ of 
 November until the end of March or the beginning of April. 
 The prairie along the river was under water to a considerable 
 extent during the entire spring, and often in summer was 
 swampy in places, and couki not be cultivated, although the 
 soil was very fertile and produ6live, antl, in its natural condi- 
 tion, yielded an abundant crop of timothy ; while in the au- 
 tumn it became the home of the deer. Such vvas the spot 
 upon which God's providence had selefted to bestow a 
 knowledge of the Christian religion and with it, the rudi- 
 ments of civilization upon those poor creatures. 
 
 The first step, and also the most difficult one, but which 
 proved to be the source of all their future advancement, was 
 to induce them to abandon their roving habits, and to ac- 
 complish this, there was no real and efficacious means save 
 religion. It was, therefore, deemed necessary to build a large 
 church in a place where the Indians could put up their log- 
 houses around it and at the same time find in the neighbor- 
 hood a supply of game and fish, so that they should not 
 give as a pretext for roving about, the need of providing 
 themselves with the means of living. And so. gently hut 
 surely they were infiuenced to adopt a more civilized '^.ati- 
 ner of life. A church capable of containing five hundred 
 people was built in a very pretty locality in the centre of a 
 narrow level spot crowning the hill. The Indians were al- 
 lowed to assist in building it as a reward of good moral 
 condu6l and were prevented from doing so as a punishment 
 of any misdeeds. Their co-operation increased their inter- 
 est, and after the church was finished, by the advice of the 
 missionaries and under their direftion they built some houses 
 for them.selves, about twenty in number, forming a nice 
 square in front of the church. All this was a great step 
 forward, but the next thing was to get them to live in these 
 houses ; religious duties and instruction were the very means 
 to secure this end. They were exhorted to be present at 
 instru6lions twice a day, the children also were requested to 
 attend catechism daily, and every effort was made by the 
 missionaries that all should attend faithfully on these occas- 
 ions. These repeated .services kept them constantly around 
 the church and consequently at home. Such was their fer- 
 
sKT.Tcrrr.s of modern indian life. 
 
 6ft 
 
 vor that they would not absent themselves without permis- 
 sion both of the chief and of the priest. So, when they 
 were f;oin<r hunting, they would leave their wives and chil- 
 dren at home for continued instru6lion while they were gone, 
 and, f<M- the same reason, they would seldom absent them- 
 selves for more than a few weeks at a time. These meth- 
 ods, followed for several years, had gradually accustomed 
 them without their perceiving it, to live under a roof, to re- 
 main in one place for the greater part of the year, and taught 
 them to begin to appreciate the comforts of home. There 
 was one thing more for them to give up, and that was going 
 off in the winter to hunt buffiilo with the Blackfeet Indians. 
 Kvery year quite a number of the young men had the hunt- 
 ing fever and must go after buflido, which was endangering 
 the plan of civilization. I took up the subje6l in a religious 
 point of view, exposing the inmioralities of which they 
 were guilty while passing the winter among the Blackfeet, 
 the danger of dying without confession and the reception of 
 the last sacraments, as well as the loss which their souls in- 
 curred by remaining half a year without the help of religion. 
 This made a great impression upon them, and the chiefs 
 came to me saying that the whole tribe had already deter- 
 mined that the year 1876 should be the last in which they 
 would join a buffalo hunt. 
 
 The success of their first efforts had so greatly encour- 
 aged our fathers that they frequently consulted together as 
 to what more was to be done in order to bring these Indians 
 into complete civilization. The people, generally, were made 
 to work novv and then for a few hours at a time or to do a 
 short day's labor, and this was considered as a part of their 
 duty of helping the church, although at the same time they 
 were liberally rewarded for it with vegetables, flour, potatoes 
 and meat. For heavier work blankets, plows, harness or 
 work-horses w^xc given to them according to the condition 
 of the persons antl the hope they gave of using farming 
 im})lements. Young men, under pretext of teaching them 
 to read and write, were taken into a house called a college 
 where they were mainly employed in manual labor, such as 
 would fit them to manage a farm of their own at some future 
 day. In this way, progress, if slow, was general, and so 
 our missionaries hatl gone on for many years, chiefly direfl- 
 ing their attention to these two points ; to destroy the habit 
 of roving, and to induce the whole tribe to labor, and this 
 without any diminution in their numbers, but rather with a 
 slow but constant increase of population. 
 
 Up to the year 1876 it had been deemed by many an im- 
 possibility to make the whole tribe take up land and settle 
 
mi 
 
 Sh'ETCHES OF .ffO/)/!:RA' /NniAX LIFE. 
 
 down as farmers, althouirh others, well ac(|uaiiitccl witli them, 
 were of a (h'fferent opinion, provided that the thinj^f could be 
 ])roperly maiia'jjed. Hut the place they then occupied .uid 
 where so much had already been accomplished, seemed now 
 to be unsuitable for a permanent Indian settlement, partly 
 because there was not land enou<^h for each to have his own 
 farm and become, in time, self-supporting^, and partly because 
 it was liable to be occupied by the whites at no very distant 
 day. They, therefore, were in favor of ti iisferrini;' the 
 whole tribe to a place about sixty miles below, called Nil^o- 
 alko. This was a beautiful aiul fertile jjrairie, lyin;^ partly 
 within their own reservation and then stretchiii;^ away miles 
 and miles beyond it, to the north antl west, while, on the 
 south and east it was surrounded by r.ui^es of mountains 
 well su|)plie{| with timber, pine, tamarack ami fir. This land 
 was beautiful, well watered, very prodnflive and covered with 
 tall bunch-^rass. It held the mo'sture well durinfj the dry 
 season an ', as it was all a rollin;^ country, it \'a not much 
 affefted by rainy weather. In this prairie, whic'i was their 
 own land, because a part of their reservation, ail the differ- 
 ent camjjs of the Cceur d'Alene, as well as people from the 
 surrounding tribes, had been accustomed to assemble during 
 the summer st -son to di;^^ camos. The\- had built them- 
 .selves a small, rather rou<;h chajjel for the tem])orary u.se of 
 the missionary, who >vas in the habit of comin;^ to pass a 
 few weeks with them duriuLj the camos season. It was now 
 proposed to make, around this spot, the chief and perman- 
 ent -.cttlenieat of the whole tribe. Many and ^rave difficul- 
 ties were to be met with in carryintj; out this plan. 
 
 The Indians of this tribe were now located in camps scat- 
 tered over a radius of fift)' miles. The lari;er portion was 
 settled over at the old mission, Ivrc about twenty-five 
 families were liviny; i ijo I sub.^i.mtial houses, built by 
 
 . in of two chiefs. Another camp 
 , about fiftc> miles from the mis- 
 lokani- Hrid;^. , where from ten to 
 ing 1 iider the direftion of a chief. 
 Besides these, there were ii (Uy small camps dispersed all 
 tlirou^^h the country. It was apparently a verv difficult 
 task to induce the.se Indians to leave their hou s, which 
 constituted almost their entire property, and the land of 
 their homes, to go ami live on a prairie where only very hard 
 work would procure them the means of livinj^. Most of 
 them would naturally |)refer to remain where they were, and 
 the few who would be vvillin<f to move, would dy rei.'^e*' 
 the tribe still more scattered, and therefore the management 
 and government of the Whole yet more complicated than it 
 
 themselves under th 
 was located on tin 
 sion, and a third 
 twelve families were 
 
Sh'/'TCffrs or .ifo/)FA'.\' /xn/.tx i ife. 
 
 .-.7 
 
 already was. Moii.'ovur, the missionaries would have their 
 work tt) bei^iii over attain, build a new church, a new resi- 
 dence, a school for i^irls, and another for hoys ; and all this 
 without the least prosijcct of the means to undertake and 
 carry on such a work. Their numbers, too, would be (juite 
 insufficient, since they would In* obli^rt;(| to reside in both 
 places; the old mission, which could not be alKuidoned, and 
 the WQW mission, where the spiritual welfare of the Indians 
 would require their attention. So the plan of transferring 
 the tribe tf) its present location, jiresented so many difficul- 
 ties and (lanL,a'rs that many thoui^dit it more prudent to 
 abandon the proje61: alto.L,^ether, than to run the risk of los- 
 \\\\^ the fruit of so many years' lalxir. 
 
 Howe\'er, the reasons which actuated the move were no 
 less weiL,dity, on the \yax\. of iioth missionaries and Indians. 
 First, the present mission was situated in a very isolated 
 place, most difficult of access. This, besides the inconven- 
 ience of communication with the outside world, made it a 
 he.avy burden to attend to sick calls, and to provide for the 
 spiritual wants of the Indians. Aijain, it was too far from 
 market, three months bei:ii:; retpiired to make the round 
 trip with loaded teams to Walla Walla, the nearest tradinf^ 
 place, that the missionaries mi<;ht be provided with the 
 necessaries of life. Two of the fathers and one brother 
 were now far advanced in years and worn out by haril labor 
 and mi^ht at any time rc(|uire the assi.stance of a do6lor, 
 which it would be absolutely impossible to procure in case 
 of need. So far as the Indians were concerned, it was not 
 simply a ciuestion of improvin^^ their condition, but of pre- 
 serving; their very existence, because if this part of the coun- 
 try should come to be .settled by the whites, the only chance 
 for the Indian to subsist, would be in becomint:^ .self-support- 
 \\\<g and living; upon the fruits of his own labor. It is true 
 that, at the time, the idea of the settlement of that part of 
 the country did not seem very probable, and yet it aflually 
 took place within a few years, i;rowinj4 with astonishint; 
 rapidity and attraclin;^ the attention of many a new comer. 
 Allow me to insert a few lines, written some time aijfo for 
 the S/'okniie Chronicle : " y\mon^ the new towns called into 
 e.xi.stence and prominence by the di.scovery of ^old mines in 
 the mountains of northern Idaho, none has a bri_Lj;hter pros- 
 pe6l before it for steady t^rowth and permanent piosperity 
 than Mission City. It lies almost under the shadow of the 
 old mission church, built half a century a<;o, upon a level 
 plateau overlooking;' the river. It is the natural entry port 
 to the mines, and the head of present naviijation, the old 
 MuIIan road from Fort Coeur d'Alene to Fort Missoula also 
 
5R 
 
 SKETCHES OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 crosses the town, making it the centre of travel for all routes 
 to the mines and the upper Coiur d'Alene country. J-ots 
 have been engaged and arrangements made for erecting a 
 large two-story hotel. A saw mill will be ereiled at once 
 and other branches of business follow as soon as the build- 
 ings can be put up. It is pioverbial that the foresight of 
 the Catholic^ fathers has invariably been correct, and the 
 sites sele6led in those early days for their missions have 
 almost in every instance proved to be the natural [)oints at 
 which commerce centres, and necessitates a commercial city 
 to accommodate the business centering around the points 
 chosen years ago by those who built better than they 
 knew." We have been led into this digression to show that 
 the subsequent course of events proved not only the wisdom 
 but the necessity of this move. 
 
 It looked also probable, that the difficulties to be met with 
 in moving would be overcome by proper management. One 
 of the missionaries made several remarks on this subje6l. 
 " As these Indians," he .said, " are now S(i respectful and so 
 religious, they probably would not be stuliborn about re- 
 maining where they are, especially if they .see the fathers 
 moving and the church transferretl. This seems the more 
 likely, because a few of their influential men have gone away 
 already for the very reason that they could not make a liv- 
 ing here. In regard to the church, mission buildings and 
 fields, these improvements have served their purpo.se, which 
 was to keep the Indians together, and iiialce them relin(|uish 
 their roving habits, but they are not adapted for further prog- 
 ress. They shall not be abandoned, but will remain in their 
 present condition. With regard to t)ur own sup[)ort, the 
 expenses of going to Walla Walla from this place are sucii 
 as to consume nearly all our means ; by moving below, near 
 Colfa.x, we should save a good deal which we could turn to 
 our advantage. This will compi.-nsate in part for the loss 
 \VL shall meet with by moving, which will deprive us of the 
 produce of a well established farm, but in the cnurse of time 
 we could start a new one and improve our condition." 
 Winist this discussion was going on things took such ;. turn 
 as to decide in favor of moving tlie Indians l(j Camt s prai- 
 rie. It happened in this wa)'. The newspapers begaii to 
 speak of the North Pacific Railway as an undertaking to be 
 accomplished in the near future, and much was said about 
 passing by the C(eur d'Alen'; di\ide. Moreover, some new 
 settlers had come in, past the boundary line of the Cieur 
 
 d'Al 
 
 eiie reservation, taken up 
 
 and 
 
 and imi)roveil it. 
 
 Til 
 
 consecjuence (well understood by all the fathers without 
 difference of opinion) then was, that no effort should be 
 
 It w 
 the 
 " an 
 in 
 we 
 
 Olll 
 
 thei 
 man 
 imp 
 
 Till 
 
 Stan 
 
S/^ETCIJES OF .irODFR.V INDIAN LTFE. 
 
 5fl 
 
 spared to save those Indians by inducing tlicni to take up 
 land and live as farmers. This plan and these conditions 
 were accepted, and moving decided upon ; instruftions were 
 given me to prepare the people for it during the winter. 
 My superior, Father (liorda, tokl me to be careful not to 
 hurt the feelings of the Indians, but by slow persuasion and 
 steady determination to strive to bring about the desired 
 result. I told him that, as 1 had not been long amo"g them, 
 I was not so well ac(|uainted with their chara6ler, still, I 
 would do what I could. I began, now, to realize that the 
 task imposed upon me was no easy one. The difficulties 
 encountered by the U. S. Government in attempting to re- 
 move Indian tribes from spots dear to them of its own 
 .sele6lion, will give an idea of those involved in my under- 
 taking. I was .satisfied that, so soon as I began to speak to 
 them on the subject, I should incur their displeasure and 
 indignation ; that they would turn away from me, and yet 
 without their co-operation there was no hope of carrying 
 out the plan. Still, I had only to obey orders, which I did, 
 fully convinced that, if I could succeed, I shoukl secure the 
 future existence antl prosperity of the Cteur d'Alene, com- 
 mitted to my care. So, I maclc up my mind to omit noth- 
 ing that success might crown my efforts. 
 
 I then began to study my plans, in which I was greatly 
 assisted by some cxi.sting circumstances, especially the fol- 
 lowing : — The Cceur d'Alene Indians had seen the schools 
 which had been established among the Sgoielpi and the 
 Pend Oreilles, and being greatly attached to their children, 
 had come to ne officially to ask if they also could not ha\e 
 the Sisters to teach their children. I told them that such 
 was uniloubtedly my own desire, but that I did not see how 
 it was possible to have them in the place where we were 
 then living. " They ire very far away from here," said I, 
 " and do not know how to ride ; and nobody can come here 
 in a wagon because there are no roads. Besides, where can 
 we build a schoolhouse ? The ground is all occupied by 
 our present buiklings; on one side, there is the river and 
 then swamps and mountains, on the other, the prairie is for 
 many weeks in the spring covered with water so that it is 
 imiKJssible to build a house there, [f we were in another 
 place the thing would be (juite easy, but I am afraid we 
 cannot do it here. " They thought I ilid not like them be- 
 cause I had answered in that way. When 1 discovered this, 
 I called them to;;ether again a few days later, and told them 
 tiiey must di6late to me a letter to be sent to the Sisters. 
 The chief Seltis composed a very touching letter, in sub- 
 stance as follows : " We are poor ignorant people and we do 
 
00 
 
 SK-ETCHES OP AfODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 not see (know nothing) ; we wish that yor would have pity 
 on us and on our children. We love thejn very much and 
 we are grieved to see that they are ignorptit, that their hands 
 are dead (do not know h<nv to work), that their li Jiing is 
 shabby. Have pity on us; come to teach our children and 
 bring them up well instrufteil, that they may be a help to 
 us in our old age." I sent this letter, with some remarks 
 of my own, and told them they must wait for the answer. 
 While waiting, their desires increased and almost every 
 week they inquired whether it had come. Seeing this, I 
 assembled them again, and told them that if the Sisters 
 came, they would need something to live upon, and could 
 not be expefled to come unless they knew how they were 
 to be supported. Then I pro[)osed the way in vvhich they 
 should do this, telling them tliey ought to give the Sisters a 
 mile sc|uare of good tillable land and promise to work, or 
 have it worked, as much as was necessary to provide for the 
 maintenance of the cliiUron. Besides this, they had better 
 have a colle6lion now antl see what they could do. " Go 
 now," saitl 1, " ami haxe a long t.ilk together and then to- 
 morrow we win have the collection, after which we will 
 write again to the Sisters of Providence in Canada. 
 
 So they did ha\e a long talk over the matter and the next 
 afternoon I went with I'^atlier Joset to the chief's house and 
 there addressed the [)eople, saying : " This is a .serious mat- 
 ter, and being a bargain which binds in conscience, it cannot 
 be broken without sin, therefore, no one must j)romise what 
 he cannot in future fulfil. Vou know my poverty," contin- 
 ued 1, "still, to hel[) \()U and your children, I will head the 
 list by contributing two work horses .uid two gf)0(l milch 
 cows aild calf" Hie Indians tlu ii subscribed twelve milch 
 cows and a bull ; the\- also jjound themseKes to supply 
 beef, Hour, groceries and clothing as the)- should be re<|uired 
 by the Sisters. " Aiul what about the farm?" said 1. No 
 answer was made. " Very well," said I, " ha\e a talk among 
 yourseUcs and set- what you can do in this respefl." After 
 a while tlu'\- said tlu'\' would put up a fence of something 
 like si\ thousand rails; thai the)- would jjlough and sow 
 the ground and harvest it ibr two yiars ; and besides, they 
 
 would huild a liousc accorduig to mj'due 
 
 flion^ 
 
 This con- 
 
 cluded, 1 wrotr the Irtter for them, reading distinctly twice 
 over, all the itt'ius, as al)o\e dt'scribed, and lluii with great 
 .solemnit)' it was signed 1)\- five chiefs in presence ol tiie 
 council. Again and again 1 repeated to them the obliga- 
 tions contained in that letter and remiiuK'd them that, when 
 once mailetl, there would be no possibility of changing or 
 destroying the contents. J closed it in their presence, and 
 
 dre 
 
 not 
 
 .\ 1 
 
 not 
 
 but 
 
 ther 
 
 leav 
 
 own 
 
 whc 
 
 liun 
 
 clotl 
 
SfCF.TCHRS OF MODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 fil 
 
 then ^ave it to them to think over better and better, telh'ng 
 them, that if they once sent it, they would certainly have 
 the school. The next day they despatched a carrier to Spo- 
 kane Bridffc, and T congratulated myself that a qfreat step 
 towards movinej had been successfully taken without the 
 Indians perceivin<T it. 
 
 A few days after, the chiefs came to me complaining that 
 two white settlers had passed the boundary line and ought 
 to be .sent away. " Yes." said I, " I know that, but I know 
 a little more too, which I think I had better tell you as soon 
 as you are ready to come in a body and hold council in my 
 hou.se." This excited them a little, .so after prayers the 
 chief called a meeting and they all came in. Then I began 
 to tell them. " Far away, there are as many whites as there 
 are grain - of sand upon the hill, or blades of grass on this 
 prairie ; they are making a road to come through here and 
 occupv all the land you can see from here to Yakima and 
 from here to the Crows. They go as swiftly as the wind, 
 and travel as far in one day as you can in a week, even 
 going on a race horse. I have had news that they are com- 
 ing ; that thev will take up all the land which has not been 
 cut by the plough ; that they will mow all the grass as I 
 have mowed my field. If you are wise, and listen to my 
 words, you will become a great people ; the whites will eat 
 with you and thev will give you money ; they will buy your 
 wood and vou will be supoorted. But if you do not heed 
 me, your children will starve, your wives and daughters will 
 be unsafe ; you, yourselves, will di.sappear. Do you wish 
 to die? Then remain here; live by hunting and fishing; 
 spend your time in smoking and idle talk, and, in a few 
 years, the church will be in mourning, she will look for her 
 children and have no comfort because they are gone. Do 
 you wish to be a great people ? Go to the beautiful land, 
 break the sod, sow grain, plant vegetables, and your chil- 
 dren will live, your wives will be .safe and well dressed, and 
 you will have plenty. Before you lies the road ; make your 
 choice now, and do not say afterwards that I was good for 
 nothing, and kept from you what I should have told you." 
 A long silence ensued ; the Indians as if thunderstruck did 
 not know what to say. At last Augustine, a good man, 
 hut over fond of his native place, said : " You are our fa- 
 ther, but your words .sound .strangely to-day. Have we to 
 leave this beautiful church which we have built with our 
 own hands, and which has given us the knowledge of God; 
 where we have been taught how to live morally ; where the 
 hungry have received food, the sick medicine and the poor 
 clothing? Must we leave this land, where the bones of our 
 
62 
 
 Sk'ErCHES OF .\rOnRRN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 fathers mingle with those of our ehildren ? these woods 
 which have supplied us with fuel and game ? this prairie 
 which has fed our horses? ihis river which has given us 
 trout and beaver? We are healthy; our children are fat; 
 our wives comfortable in our log-houses. We are not like 
 you ; you need bread, we have camos ; you require good 
 clothing, we are satisfied with deer skins and buffalo robes. 
 We can live comfortably on what you would think poor 
 and wretched." 
 
 After such an answer as this they left, and I began to re- 
 alize the difficulty of the task impo.sed upon me. Still, I 
 knew that I must carry my point, so I took up the matter 
 in church and made it a point of conscience to move. The 
 subject of my morning and evening instru6tions was this. 
 They were bound to move, first, for .self- prest'"vation ; 
 secondly, for the education of their children ; thirdly, foi the 
 preservation of their religion and especially for the morality 
 of the women. These headings, expounded daily in one 
 way or another, began to open the eyes of many of the In- 
 dians ; moreover, all the objections made in the various 
 councils were answered one by one. I told them we were 
 not leaving our land, bccau.se the prairie to which we were 
 going did not belong to strangers, but to us ; that we were 
 going to occupy that portion of our land upc^n which, as 
 they themselves had told me, strangers were already en- 
 croaching ; that we were not giving up either farm, or 
 church, or graveyard ; they would still be ours, a guardian 
 would be placed there to remain and to keep everything in 
 good order and to carry on the work of the farm. Every 
 year we would come in a body on All Souls' day to pray 
 for our dead, and to pray in the church, which will be for us 
 a place of pilgrimage. I told them, moreover, that they 
 must not rely upon their woods, the great settlement which 
 was to be made would soon cause the game to disappear. 
 Neither shouUl they dejjend upon the river, which would 
 soon be filled with boats and rafts and logs for fuel which 
 would cause the fish to migrate to safer and (juieter places. 
 This discussion went on from November until the following 
 February, and little by little they were coming to reason 
 Some of the Indians who left the mission for their homes, 
 were well disposed to move, seeing which, I was anxious to 
 test their dispositions and wind up the matter as soon as 
 possible by binding the majority of the tribe to .settle in the 
 spot designated. 
 
 1 therefore agreed with two or three of the chiefs that on 
 Ash-Wednesday we should begin to pray in the new place. 
 " Ask God," said I, " to be propitious to us, and to touch 
 
SfCETCHRS OF MODRRX INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 m 
 
 the hearts of the people, that they may be awakened to a 
 sense of self-preservation." It was then the end of Febru- 
 ary or the beginning of March ; the place in question was 
 not accessible by the old Mullan Road, but by the new one 
 which was longer and very rough. Still, I .started unde- 
 terred by difficulties. My obje6l was to see Seltis, chief of 
 one of the camps, who was not altogether unfriendly to my 
 plan, and try, if possible, to induce him to accompany me 
 to the new site. The prairie, between the mission and the 
 north range of mountains, was under water, which in some 
 places was frozen and in others quite deep. Travelling was 
 very bad, on account of the half-melted ice often not strong 
 enough to bear the weight of the horse, an 1 the snow upon 
 the mountains was still very deep. By pushing on the 
 whole day, I reached Wolf Lodge, when; I camped very 
 poorly and uncomfortably indeed. My guide had thought 
 that we could easily reach the Spokane liridge in one day, 
 so I had taken with me neither tent, nor axe, nor provisions, 
 except a piece of bread which was to serve for my lunch 
 along the road. But I had not thought about eating during 
 the day, having been too much occupied with trying to ex- 
 tricate myself and my horse from either the deep snow or the 
 half-melted ice, so in the evening T shared the bread with my 
 guide under a tree. Then we made a good fire to dry our 
 clothes which' were Ijecoming very stiff, for the cold towards 
 dark had grown ver\' intense and we did what we could to 
 prote6l ourselves during the night. 
 
 We left Wolf Lodge early the ne.xt morning antl, by rid- 
 ing as fast as we could, reached Spokane Bridge at about 
 3 P. M. Going into the .store, I found an Indian from Seltis' 
 camp, who was ju.st going home, so I sent word b}' him, to 
 Seltis, to send me a fresh horse and a guide that i might 
 come to spend the night among his people. The guide and 
 the horses reached me at about nightfall, and then I took 
 leave of the Indian from the mission, who had so far accom- 
 panied me. He then discovered the obje6l of my journey, 
 and being much opposed to the uKiving of the tribe, said to 
 me : " If I had suspcfted that you were going to Camos 
 Prairie to work out your plan of moving, I would never 
 have accompanied you." " Never mind," said I, " there is 
 no use talking about that now," and so we parted. I told 
 my guide that I wished to reach Seltis' camp before it grew 
 entirely dark, but to do this we had to go so fast that there 
 was no time to look out for the icy places, and after a few 
 miles, my horse; fell and threw me. I was not hurt ; but 
 we had hard work to pull the horse up, which was helpless 
 
64 
 
 SkETCHkS or mo pern INhtAN I.lFk. 
 
 on account of not being sliod. At last \vc reached Seltis' 
 camp, and <'he chief and tlie people came out to welcome 
 me. They had prepared a good meal, which made me for- 
 get the poor one of the preceding night. After the repast, 
 in spite of my fatigue, we had a long talk. I was not too 
 tired to repeat my old saying: " Either work and live, or 
 remain here and starve." I tolil the chief tliat I wanted 
 him and his people to come with me the next tiay to Camos 
 Prairie. In a day and a half we could reach Ni/goalko, 
 where we would begin our Lent, and during its course labor 
 to put up a schoolhouse for the girls. He answered, "the 
 weather is bad and the road dangerous." " Is it any wor.se 
 than the one 1 came over yesterday?" .said I. " Be not as 
 delicate as a woman." He understood the sarcasm but still 
 hesitated. " My children are very small and my wife is 
 nursing; how can I leave?" "Take them along with you, 
 for you have plenty of good horses." " Very well," said 
 he, at last, " we will go." We rcaciied Nilgoalko at about 
 noon on the day before Ash-Wednesday ; and going into 
 the church I heard many confessions, and the next morning 
 ga\'e communion to about a hundn-tl. 1 praised the people, 
 not only for their presence there in such bad weather, but 
 stii'i more for their good sense m having understood the 
 necessity for moving, ami I told them th.it I hoped all the 
 people of the Skutloti, of the Britlge and of St. Joe would 
 soon join us, if we only showed that we were in earnest 
 about working for the welfare of our children. In the after- 
 noon, with the chief and several good meti, 1 went around 
 to seleft a good location for our school, and then in the even- 
 ing we had a meeting, after church. About fifteen able- 
 bodied men were present ami I told them that the next 
 morm'ng, after Mass, they were to come each with an axe, 
 and the chief, the}' and 1 would all go to the woods and cut 
 down as many trees as sliould be recjuired for tiie ereftion of 
 the schoolhouse. " How big will it be?" inquired one Indian. 
 " I will give you the dimensions," I replied, " it will be 
 sixty feet long, thirty wide and t\venty-tw<i high." The 
 ne.xt morning we went as had been agreed upon, and the 
 people worked hard and with such good will that many a 
 fine tree fell that day. As soon as one came down, four or 
 five men attacked it to cut away the branches, sawed it the 
 right length and trimmed it off The work went on for four 
 or five days .splendidly, and .seeing such i-arnestness, I con- 
 cluded that my presence there was no U)nger recjuired, so I 
 returned to the mission. 
 
 The process of moving had now advanced so far, that I 
 thought the greatest difficulties had been overcome. Still, 
 
SKETCHES OF ^TODERN INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 •',5 
 
 1 determined to stop at Spokane Hridj^e again on my way 
 back, to see the chief of that camp and try to persuade him 
 to let his people move. This man, who was, by right, the 
 head chief of the entire tribe, had been doing my work 
 much injury, for poh'tical purposes. He had a comfortable 
 home and did not want to leave it ; nor did he want the 
 people so far away from him lest he might lose his influ- 
 ence with the tribe and be superseded by Seltis. So, 
 the previous Christmas he luul sent his son to the mis- 
 sion, to get up a strong party against moving and, to- 
 gether with the Skutloti chiefs, was causing a great deal 
 of trouble. He was a good business man, of mild dispo- 
 sition, shrewd and generous too, especially when he could 
 make a display of his wealth. His great ambition was to 
 have a large farm of his own, antl the spot he had chosen 
 did not satisfy his desires. He had about five or six fami- 
 lies under him, each claiming a certain land as its own, and 
 he was frequently getting into trouble with these families on 
 account of damages done by their stock in his fields. I 
 determined that it would be best to leave him wiiere he was, 
 because, as he had already advanced further in civilization 
 than any of the others, it seemed likely that he would pros- 
 per. But this woukl makt; no difference with regard to 
 moving the other families. The journey that I made for 
 this object, was one of the? hardest I hatl yet attempted. 
 
 I left Nilgoalko very earl)' in the morning, and at about 
 nine o'clock it began to rain heavily and the road was so 
 slushy and slippery, that we had great difficulty in making 
 the fifteen miles to reach what is now Rock Creek. There 
 we found a very okl ctniple in a lodge. The creek had 
 already passed its banks, and the water was rising so rapidly 
 that the prairie was llooded, up to within a few rods of the 
 lodge. It was still raining very hard. Our road lay across 
 a torrent that came roaring down a gulch into the creek. 1 
 told my friends in the lodge that I would like to have some- 
 thing to eat. They gave me a few potatoes and some trout ; 
 then I put u[) my tent and retired. The next day it was 
 still raining and the torrent in the gulch was so swollen, 
 that my guide, I'elicien, told me tiiat it would be impossible 
 to cross, for the current was running so swiftly that it would 
 carry awa\ the horses. I did not know the place, but said 1 
 thought that if the horse could get a footing on the bottom, 
 wt- shoukl be able to cross in safety. " No," said he, " the 
 landing-place is very narrow and, if the hor.se should be car- 
 ried down the stream a few feet, he would not succeed in 
 getting up the bank." " Well," said I, " consult with the 
 old man ; this is his land ; he ought to know all about it." 
 
fif) 
 
 !^k-p.rcffEs or modern iNhiAN t.rPe. 
 
 The old Indian said : " It is very dangerous, but, if you must 
 go, it is better to do so now than later, when it will be worse 
 on account of the thaw." So we had our breakfast of camos 
 am' dried fish, at the Indian's lodge and then the old man 
 toUi us to wait and he would come and help us. He came 
 out attired in his blanket. Reaching the place, he said to 
 the other Indian : " You take the hor.ses across, trying to 
 keep against the current. Leave the father here." Felicien 
 told me to take off my boots and .stockings, tie them to the 
 pommel of the saddle and then dismount. I did as I was 
 bid and there I stood in about a foot of cold water. The 
 horse, the one Seltis had given me, was very tall. Felicien 
 mounted him, fistened his own pony to the saddle, and so 
 crossed safely, although with difficulty. The large horse 
 was just suited to the occasion, because being so tall, his 
 feet always touched bottom, while the pony was obliged to 
 swim part of the way. A few yards below the crossing, a 
 majestic pine tree, which had been uprooted by the .storm 
 of the preceding night, had fallen across the stream, reach- 
 ing from bank to bank It would .seem as if a kind Provi- 
 dence had prepared for us a means of crossing that stream. 
 Felicien returned upon the fallen tree, and called to me to 
 cross back with him. I answered, " It is too dangerous ; the 
 tree- is not steady; the water keeps moving it up and down 
 in such a way that I should not be able to stand upon it." 
 " Wait," said the old man. Then taking off his blanket and 
 hanging it on the branch of a tree, he advanced into the 
 water at about fifteen or twenty yards below the fallen pine, 
 saying; " Now, I am ready; go over upon the tree; if you 
 should fall, I will catch you and save your life." Then 
 Felicien said : "put your arms aroiuid me and hold fast; 
 dont be afraid, look at the opposite shore and follow me." 
 We said a prayer and then started to walk over upon the 
 tree ; and as we advanced, I felt the motion ukm-c and more, 
 and forgetting myself began to look at the water which was 
 running so swiftly as to make my head di/./.y at once. It 
 .seemed to me that I was being carried away by the current, 
 which frightened me so that I calletl out to Felicien. He 
 stopped, saying; "close your eyes, don't be afraid; we are 
 .safe." I did as he told me, and after a few seconds, was all 
 right again and told him to go on. When we reached a 
 little stump coming out of the water, the old man cried out ; 
 " I am gl.ad ; you have crossed .safely." Such was my first 
 experience in crossing torrents after this fashion, and the 
 remembrance of my success encouraged me, two years after, 
 to try the same thing in another place, where I tumbled in, 
 as I have already related. 
 
 ini> 
 
 rel 
 
 ha 
 
 the 
 
 me 
 
 giv 
 
 ma 
 
 wa; 
 
SKETCHES OF .yOPER.X /Nn/A.\ LIFE. 
 
 tl" 
 
 the 
 
 We travelled that day forty-five miles, reaching the place 
 where the chief, whom I wanted to sec, lived. He received 
 me kindly antl treated mc well. I told him I should have 
 church that evenin;j[ ant! the next morning ; but before then 
 I had a talk with him privately, and said ; " It is true you 
 are by riiijht the first chief, but you must use your authority 
 only for the welfare of your [jcople. If you do anything (as 
 you have done) for your own private interest which mitjht 
 result in the destruflion of the tribe, you will commit a sin. 
 Now, by opposing the moving of the Indians and preventing 
 them from becoming civilized and self-supporting, you are 
 doing what will surely destroy them, and you will be no 
 better than a murderer and will be deservedly ])unishcd by 
 God hereafter. You think this o[)position will increa.se your 
 authority and do not see that it will cause you to lose it 
 entirely ; for all these people have relatives among those 
 who are moving, and their influence will persuade them to 
 do the same and thus you will lose all control over them. 
 You are injuring your own interests, because, ifthe.se people 
 move away from here, you can buy out their improvements 
 for little or nothing, enlarge your farm, use their houses for 
 granaries, etc., and you will have twice as much for the re- 
 ward of your labors as you have now." The man was 
 shrewd enough to understand at once the force of this last 
 reasoning ; and looking at me keenly to see whether I was 
 in earnest, he then said, " I do not obje6l to their moving." 
 "Very well, then," said I, " after my instru6lion you will 
 speak to the peo|)le ; tell them to take up land, and become 
 civilized and live comfortably in Nilgoalko. He promised 
 me to do so and he ke[)t his word. So, when the people 
 .saw that the chief and the priest agreed upon the subje6l of 
 moving, a meeting was held and the most influential man of 
 that little tribe promised me that he would move in two or 
 three weeks' time, which he accordingly did. I thought 
 this a great gain, because it would leave the Skutloti In- 
 dians alone, who, although stubborn, would hardly stand the 
 loss of their fellow tribesmen, but many would change their 
 minds and move. 
 
 The next day, by travelling forty-five miles I readied the 
 mission. I had well instruftcd my Indian guide, a good 
 reliable man, that he should talk to the people of what had 
 happened at Nilgoalko ; the work done there for the school ; 
 the jjromise of moving given by Seltis, and the encourage- 
 ment to do so which the chief at the Spokane Bridge had 
 given his people. Felicien did as I had told him and had 
 matter of conversation for .several evenings. Meanwhile, I 
 was keeping as quiet as possible, apparently attending to 
 
(is 
 
 SKETCHES or- MODEKS /.\n/AN I.IEE. 
 
 the temporal concerns of the mission, i)iit in reahty keeping 
 a close watch how they woukl aft in such a position. The 
 two chiefs of the Skutloti (the in.oplc aroinid the old mis- 
 sion) held si'vcral meetings, and detennincii to send some of 
 the) • best men around to persuade the Indians to remain in 
 their places. Discoverini^ this, I was afraid that they might 
 succeed in inducin^^ some, who had promised, to change 
 their minds, so I sent P'r. Joset, a venerable old missionary, 
 who had spent thirty-eight years among the Cteur d'Alene, 
 to the new place, and told him to encourage the people to 
 take up land not so ver\- near the church but scattered 
 around in the prairie, so that each fanu'l\' could, in time, 
 take up a large tracl: and be indepLiideiU. Fr. Joset's pres- 
 ence there not only neutralized the influence of the Skutloti 
 agents, but was most disastrous to it, for the people, seeing 
 that the priest began to reside there, and that it was a good 
 deal easier to get to the new place than to C(.>me to the old 
 one, began to fre(|uent tliat chapel in preference to the other. 
 They dispersed around aiui took up land in various direc- 
 tions upon the prairie, and thus the settlement was fairly 
 begun. Then the Skutloti Indians, seeing that the\' could 
 not succeed in dissLiading uie from moving, and that all 
 their plans had been frustrated, had recour.se to another 
 means. They plotted together to refuse the mission any 
 help, and as we were far a\va\' from any other Indians, they 
 thought we should not be able to do our work and make 
 preparations to leave. Besides, they knew that an Indian 
 from any other place would not dare to work there, where 
 all the people would be against him. Moreover, they knew 
 that the fathers sometimes \ielded to their wishes for the 
 sake of preventing greater evils and now, they said, the fa- 
 thers will abandon this idea of moving so as not to give 
 such dissatisfa£lion to that large part of the tribe. 
 
 This plan caused me a great deal of trouble, and would 
 have succeeded, had it been devised six or seven months 
 sooner. I was obliged to work in the field myself; to help 
 load and unload the hay, drive the mower and the reaper, 
 in a word, to become all at once a farmer ; and when, tired 
 • out and exhausteil, I begged assistance from anyone, for 
 some pretext or another, it was denied me. The only per- 
 sons to help me were two brothers and the guide that I had 
 brought with me from Nilgoalko ; the Skutloti Indians did 
 not molest him, because they respefted the bargain he had 
 made to work for the mission till after harvest. To di.sabu.se 
 them of the idea that I could be induced to yield, I took 
 the two statues of the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph, as well 
 as the church ornaments, and putting them in two Indian 
 
SfCETCHEs or ^^nnF.RX rNnrAN i.tfe. 
 
 t!0 
 
 canoes, which had liton fastened to^ctlier by planks nailed 
 to the sides, the brother, the ^iiide and myself, took them 
 to the new mission, rowin^^ for two days down the Cctnir 
 d'Alene River and across the Cirur d'Alene Lake. The 
 extreme irksomeness of this joiiinr)' was somewhat relieved 
 by the threat beauty of tiie scenery which th(; Citiir d'Alene 
 River for the first time presented to my s^aze ; the many 
 windings and turns afforded an endless variety of charming 
 piftures, now of one deep mountain, rising abruptly from 
 the water's edge, rocky and barren, and again of another 
 whose gentler slopes were thickly clothed with pine and red 
 fir. On our right, as we went tlown, lay a beautiful prairie, 
 covered, even during the hot summer, with long green grass, 
 and on our left a more elevated plateau, )'ieliling a f)Ientifut 
 crop of wheat, oats and vegetables, so that many things as 
 we passed along, beguiled my attention from the very fa- 
 tiguing, and to me, tnost unusual labor of rowing. 
 
 At length we reached a point wln-re, in low water season, 
 the current runs so very slowly, that its dire6lion is scarcely 
 perceptible. " Here," said Fclicien, " we must |)ay our ta.K- 
 es." " What do you mean by that?" I in([uired, " have you 
 an oil! story to tell me?" He blushed, being now somewhat 
 ashamed of the old Indian tales, since he had come to be so 
 fully persuaded of their foolishness. However, I encouraged 
 him to tell me the story for a little diversion of mind. 
 " Here," said he, " is the home of the spirit that rules over 
 the waters. Formerly, wlu-never an [ntlian passed here, he 
 would take something, either camos, or ilried meat, or the 
 skin of an animal, and throw it into the water, thinking thus 
 to i)ropitiate the spirit, by paying toll. Their fear of pass- 
 ing through here by night was so great, that no one dared 
 to do so without paying well." " Whose sjiirit is it?" I in- 
 quired, "that of an animal, or of some man?" "The spirit 
 of Amotkan," said he. "What!" said I, "do you suppo.se 
 the spirit of the President of the United States is here?" I 
 had misunderstood, because they used to applj' that word 
 Amotkan — meaning one who stays in a place and does not 
 roam around — to the jiresident. "Oh! no," .said he, " the 
 Indians had their Amotkan ; he was a monstrous being, like 
 a man, .stationed at the head of the river and ruling over the 
 waters. Once he dtMiied water to the people, because he 
 was angry with them, and they died of thirst, and there 
 were no more men left upon the earth. One day a little 
 wolf (the favorite hero of Indian stories) was going around 
 in .search of water, and seeing a little bird carrying a drop 
 to his young ones, asked him where he found it. The little 
 bird answered, ' I found it where Amotkan dwells, but I had 
 
SKETCHES OF MODIRX ISDl.W LIFE. 
 
 to wait Lintil he was asleep to take away this Uttlc drop, be- 
 cause he is so ant^ry with the people that he has refused to 
 l^ive them an\'.' ' Then,' said the little wolf, ' show me the 
 way "and I will ^^o and kill him, because otherwise all creat- 
 ures will be destroyed.' So they went, and the little wolf 
 killed Amotkan while he was asleep, and then the water 
 began to How and kept on so powerfully that it flooded the 
 whole country and covered everythin<r." " But," said I, 
 " how docs it happen that there are any men on earth now, 
 if they were all destroyed, either by thirst or by water?" 
 " Well," said he, " the Indians thoujjht that Amokan's body 
 was carried down by the waters and when they dried up, the 
 little wolf, which was always strolling around, discovered it 
 on the shore in this very place. Then he cut it into pieces, 
 and threw the heart into our land and from this sprung our 
 jjeople called ' [jointed hearts', or Cteur d'Alene ; from the 
 other parts sprang other people such as the Nez Perces and 
 the Sgoielpi. The Spokane, however, came into existence 
 in this way. .After the little wolf had finished this work, he 
 cleaned his paws with some straw, which he then threw into 
 the Spokane land, and from this came tho.se people whom 
 
 we call derisively 'Men of Straw. What nonsen.se," 
 
 .said I, " aren't you ashamed of it ?" " We were a poor igno- 
 rant peo[)le," said he, " before the ])riest came here." " Well, 
 now," said I, " tell mc, did you believe that man's soul lived 
 after death ?" " We had very little knowledge about th^ic, 
 but still we thought that it did live, and now and then .some 
 of the old peo[)le would say; " I saw such and such a one, 
 some one who had been dead a long time." " How did 
 they see them?" "T do not know, perhaps in a dream." 
 " Did 3'ou believe in a supreme spirit?" " Our people be- 
 lieved in spirits a good deal, and thought they dwelt in every- 
 thing, trees, stones, mountains and animals. When anyone 
 went out hunting, he would embrace whatever he met in his 
 way, praying to the spirit and saying; ' let me find game.' 
 Also each one tried to make friends with some spirit." 
 " How could you do that, if you did not see, or hear them?" 
 said I. "We would do it in this way. A girl, when she 
 reached the age of about twelve years, would* leave her 
 home and go into the woods; boys would do the same at 
 about fourteen years of age ; they would walk on in .search 
 of the spirit and not drink water, nor taste fruit and roots until 
 they found him. After a day or two they would fall asleep 
 and then they would see the spirit who taught them a song 
 and gave them something to keep .sacred ; then they would 
 come home persuaded that they had found a friend who 
 would always prote6t them during life." " What would the 
 
SKETCHES OF MODEh'X /WD/AX LIFE. 
 
 71 
 
 spirit give to be kept in remembrance of him ?" " Various 
 things according to the different ways in which he jiresented 
 himself Sometimes we would see a bear, and then he would 
 give us one of his claws to keej) ; sometimes a deer, and 
 then he would give a hoof; again a bird, and then we would 
 kill another just like it and keep either its feathers, or its 
 head, or even the whole bird ; sometimes a snake, and then 
 we would keep a snake skin or rattle always with us. 
 Wherever we went, we always kept our 'Somesh' (as they 
 called it) but never showed it." " Did the peo[)lc never get 
 mad with the .spirit and throw the Somesh away ?" " Before 
 the priest came, the Somesh was considered the most sacred 
 gift, and an unfailing means of assistance in any distress or 
 v'iflficulty ; the people believed that if they parted with it the 
 spirit would be offended and kill them." .Such was all their 
 religious code. Does it not .seem almo.st incredible that 
 human beings could be degraded to such a state of igno- 
 rance and superstition ? 
 
 But while this conversation was going on we were rowing 
 down towards the CiLur d'Alene Lake which we at la.st 
 reached and crossed ♦lo Prl'jst's Landing. There we un- 
 loaded our church goods, aniJ by the help of the Indians 
 who had come from Nilgoalko, we brought this first trip to 
 a successful conclusion. Vv^hen this was done, the moving 
 went on peacefully, so far as the Indians were concerned, 
 and the settlement increased and improved very rapidly. 
 The only difficulty remaining to be overcome, was the re- 
 .si.stance of the Skutloti people settled around the old mis- 
 sion. I saw that it would be im]wssible to conquer the 
 stubbornness of the two chiefs and the old people, so I turned 
 my attention to the young men who were their help and 
 support. I assembled them three times in my house, but 
 secretly, so, as not 'o arouse the suspicions of the others, 
 and I said to them : " The priest, your fither, is abandoned 
 by his people; they wish to live poorly and miserably and 
 run to their own destruflion, so they left me, and now I 
 have recourse to you. From this day forward you will be 
 my hands ; you will be the saviours of your people. Look 
 at your brethren ; their land is large, the grass is high, their 
 horses arc fat, and their cattle increasing. Ne.xt year they 
 will have an abundant crop ; they will trade it to the whites 
 and have plenty, becau.se they have listened to me. You 
 are young and able to do as much as they, and see your 
 children well educated at the school, and your house well 
 supplied with comforts, if you will go to Nilgoalko and join 
 your brethren." At first, I spoke to very little purpose, but 
 after calling each one in particular, and promising help and 
 
72 
 
 SR'E re HF.S or MODKRX INDIAS IJFK. 
 
 support in as much as I could, I, at last, succeeded in send- 
 ing them down to the prairie, where they marked out their 
 future homes. This done, the old people found themselves 
 left alone, and they had either to follow the youni^ men, who 
 were their support, or else starve. So, althouoh they talked 
 about me, and had some hard feelings about what I was 
 doiiiLj, still, in November of 1877 the whole tribe, with the 
 exception of three okl men, had Leathered in the camos 
 prairie of Nilgoalko, and I saw the beginnint^ of their 
 civilization. 
 
 In justice to the.se Indians, I must here state that their 
 feelings towards me are now entireU' changed ; in the be- 
 gining, they could not imderstand my reasons for moving, 
 and hence their opposition and tlislike Not long after the 
 change was made, I was sent to another mission, but after 
 three years" absence I came back to pay a visit to De Smedt- 
 ville, as it is now called. One of the most influential chiefs, 
 beloved by ever\-i)ne on account of has uprightness and 
 good behavior, but who liad for a time opposed me, came 
 to see me. He knocked at the door, and hearing the usual 
 " come in" (Zuclgush), he opened it, knelt down and without 
 any prelude began : " Father, we ha\e been very bad, and 
 a6led wrongly towards you. But, because \'ou were so de- 
 terminetl, our children are now fleshy, our cattle in good 
 condilioM our uiws well dressed, and we have plenty. We 
 should, mdeed, have starved and died out, if you had done 
 as we wanted. Forgive us, we are poor liuiians." Is not 
 this a fine trait o^ character, such a reaciness to acknowledge 
 a mistake and apologize for misbehavior? 
 
 This change of location was, for those Indians, the I)e 
 gining of a new life, and our hopes have been realized by 
 beholding them, to-day, a wel! behax'ed and wealthy people. 
 Their soil is fertile, they cultivate -it successfully; the low 
 land yields a beautiful timothy cro]), while the hillside sc-1- 
 dom produces less than thirty-five or forty bushels o*" wheat 
 to the acre and fifty or more of oats. Looking over the 
 prairie from a hill near the mission, you will see m.uiy fine 
 farms well fenced and containing from eighty to a hundred 
 or more acres; four especially will attract your attention, 
 having within fences from a half to ,1 full seftion of land. 
 If you feel incliuc'd tn make a tour of inspection, you will 
 come across some pictures(]ue spots, and ju.it at the foot of 
 the hill a good substantia' house with barn, stable, chieken- 
 hou.se and everything re(|uisite for .; well estai)lished farm. 
 If you take the trouble to go into the barns, you will fiiul 
 most of them provided with the best machinery, self-binders 
 
 and mowers, and Ivth wall 
 
 Kinp and sui 
 
 ^y 1 
 
 jiouens. 
 
 Th 
 
 ere 
 
 CO 
 
 a 
 
 tak 
 
 sia 
 
 du 
 
 as 
 
 Th 
 
 to 
 
 m.( 
 
ShT.rCHES OF MODRR.y INDIAN f-IFE. 
 
 73 
 
 are but very few who have not either reaper or mower, but, 
 j^enerally, with the exception of a threshing-machine, they 
 have all kinds of farming implements. In a word, with the 
 exception of one or two families, all the rest farm ex- 
 tensively. 
 
 In IiSni, I tiiiiiK it was, that little tribe raised fifty thou- 
 sand bushels of wlieat and sixty thousand of oats, besides 
 poultry, vegetables, and swine. They hire white labor ; fre- 
 quently during harvest time several whites may be seen 
 working for Indians at monthly wages. They hired a saw- 
 mill to provide the lumber for building their frame houses, 
 and they sawed over one million feet of it. Their roads are 
 good, and over Hangman's Creek they have built two sub- 
 star ;ial bridges. One piece of swampy ground has been 
 drained, and bridged in several places, with a corduroy road 
 between, and all this is the fruit of their own labor without 
 assistance from anyone. They began the work of educat- 
 ing their children by building a schoolhouse themselves for 
 this purpose. Within the last few years, however, the gov- 
 ernment, seeing their spirit of enterprise, has given them 
 some means for educating a limited number of their children 
 in boarding sclior)ls. In a word, tliese Indians have reached 
 this point of civilization b\' their own unaided efforts, for, 
 with the exception of the school, the hel]) they have had 
 from anybody is not worth mentioning. 
 
 Until the year lS7(), they neither knew they had an agent 
 nor that the government liad made any provision in their 
 beh If, and Father (iiorda informed me that, in 1S77, Seltis 
 told the commissioner of the government not io give him 
 an agent, nor an annuity, so as to a\oid all kind of trouble. 
 As soon, however, as tlnry were established in Camos Prai- 
 rie, and it became possible for the agent to do them justice, 
 he has taken a great interest in them and has co-operated 
 with the fathers to their fui'ther civilization and improve- 
 ment, and this very successfully Their habits are com- 
 pletely changed; hunting and fishing are wo longer looked 
 upon as business but pleasure; and in the fall, when they 
 have a little time, some of them will hunt for at most a 
 couple of weeks, before the winter sets in. They no longer 
 allow their stock to roam at large, l)ut timing the winter 
 take care of it and fi ed it. The women work, but not as 
 slaves, they help then- husband^ in the field, and .sometimes, 
 during harvest, with machuier)-, but the heavier work, such 
 as ploughing, chopping wcx)il, etc., is done by men only. 
 Three years after the change had been m;ule, I once spoke 
 to the chief and told him that it was not pio|>er for him to 
 make his wife run the self-binder ; lie ought to do that him- 
 
74 
 
 SkT.TCHKS OF .VODER .\ ISP /AX LIFE. 
 
 self and let her work in the kitchen. lie replied ; " I bet^an 
 to do it, but I very soon broke a ])iece and hail to lose two 
 days going to Colfax to replace it. My wife is a good deal 
 smarter about that than I am, she can do it ver\' well ; I do 
 not think it is too heavy work for her, wax does she :om- 
 plain of it." 
 
 Their government also has improved a good deal with 
 their habits; they have unity and power. A little body of 
 policemen prevent crime or punish it when it hapjjens. 
 Their morals are excellent; casi.s of drunkenness are rare 
 and punished when discovered. Marriage;' aie all based 
 ujxjn the Catholic doflrine and are so much respected and 
 thought of, that a single case of concubinage which hap- 
 pened some years ago, was so much talk' ,! > and discoun- 
 tenanced, that the man, to escape it, left :i ibe and went 
 to live with the Protestant Spokane. Parents attend \ery 
 carefully to the education of their children, not only send- 
 ing them to shcool, but watching over their morals with a 
 keen eye when they are at home. 
 
 Americans in that part of tli!- country \\a\k' .i high opin- 
 ion of the honesty of these Indians in trading. Steahng 
 has become so shameful an aflion that 1 can truly say it has 
 been banishetJ altogether from the tribe. Mechanics, work- 
 ing at the mission, were surprised to find that they cnuld 
 leave their tool boxes open out of doors and nothing i. , er 
 disappeared. In trading, they are not only well behaved, 
 but very business-like in their ways; they are careful to 
 avoid credit, or if they take it, will always pay on the ap- 
 pointed day, no matter if they lose by it. I have many a 
 time seen a Indian sell stock or produce at half-price, just 
 to liquidate a cash liebt when it fell due. Dealers were .so 
 pleased with such trading that competition arose between 
 the largest firms of Colfax, .Spokane Falls, and Farmington, 
 each holding out special inducements to the Iiulians to trade 
 with them. When ' asked why this was, the\- answered, 
 " The Indian trade is a re.idy cash trade, aii<l no ciiances are 
 taken in their small credits." (3thir traders told me, " I 
 have lost several hundred dollars with other people, but not 
 half a dollar yet with the Indians." 
 
 Another fa6l, highly creditable to this trilx' and shovvin;; 
 the refinement of their feelings, is this. Tn the year 1877 
 there was a war between the U. S. Government and Josf-ph's 
 tribe of the Nez Perces. The Palouse Indiims, who wr-re 
 allies of Joseph, were with the Nez Perces, in tlie Cteui 
 d'Alene reservation, cligging camos, and tried to miluce the 
 Cceur d'Alene to take part in the war. Seltis, however, 
 told them repeatedly that he would never do .so, as he had 
 
 a refi 
 supei 
 te-^i, 
 
 spoil! 
 
 who 
 sion 
 
Sk'ETCftES OF .\ronERA' INDIAN IJPk. 
 
 76 
 
 no motive for injuring the whites, who Iiad done him no 
 iiarm. While these things were going on the war broke 
 out, and news of it reached the Indians early the next day. 
 Then Seitis was roused to action, and after a meeting of 
 his |)eop!e, sent a message to the Palouse and the Nez Per- 
 ces to leave his reservation immediately, or else he would 
 force them to do so. They had to obey and the next morn- 
 ing were out of Seitis' land. They went into the land of 
 the whiles, made raids upon them, killed some persons, 
 pillaged the houses of the farmers, liroke down the fences 
 around the fields, which let the strolling stock in to destroy 
 the crop, and even burned some fields and barns. The 
 whites fled, to save their li\es and their families, leaving 
 their crops and stock entirely unprote6led. News of all 
 this soon reached Seitis, and without loss of time, he col- 
 let ted such men as were at hand and ha.stened to the scene 
 of destruflion ; he found, however, that the mischievous 
 warriors had disappeared to join the main body on the Clear 
 Water Mountams, He then distributed his men to put up 
 the fences, so as to prote6l the crops from the stock, an<l to 
 keep the houses of the poor sufferers from further invasion, 
 riu-n he sent expressmen to the neighboiing towns, to call 
 hack the farmers who hail disappeared, assuring them not 
 onl\- of his friendshi[), but even of his prote6lion. The 
 peojjle, trusting to his good re[nitation, came back to their 
 honiis, and with the exci^pfion of the damage done by the 
 enemy, found everything in good order. The whites did 
 not fail to show their gratitude to these Indians. At first 
 the\' pp'ijared a great feast and bantpiet in one of their 
 towns, and invited the whole tribe to come and make merry. 
 This invitation, howe\(M-, w.is decline-d by the Indians, on 
 the groun<l that they had expo.sed their lives only for th** 
 sake of justice and tlu- protection ot their friends. They 
 asked of the whites, instead, this favor; that as the Indians 
 had so effectual!)' prote6led their land, they too would ex- 
 tend them mutual protection in return, and sign a petition to 
 the government not to move them from their present re.ser- 
 
 wition. I heard that this was done, so that their land m; 
 
 ly 
 
 be called at present also the fruit of their generositj- in pro- 
 tertiii'' these white settlers. 
 
 Ih 
 
 e CO 
 
 ndufl of these Indians on this last occasion shows 
 
 a refinement of civilization, not easy to be found even among 
 
 superior classes. 
 
 Th 
 
 ese may expose their lives 
 
 for tl 
 
 le 
 
 pr( 
 
 tei^tion of their own [x-ople, but I do not think they would 
 spontaneously, and without hope of compensation, help tho.se 
 who for years had l)een an obstacle to the peaceful pos.ses- 
 sion of their laiui. And this is what these Indians did. 
 
70 
 
 Sk-ETCMRS OF MODRRN INDTAN l.lFE. 
 
 thus sliowin^ how deeply the principles of christian charity 
 have taken root in their hearts. 
 
 This last trait of friendly feeling towards the wliites is not 
 uncommon among the Catholic Indians of that family, 
 whether partly or .vholly civilized. There is no instance of 
 an entire tribe, altogether Catholic, of the Calispeletn family, 
 having declared war against the government. the case 
 which happened in 1S57, if I recolle6l well the year, when 
 the Cceiir d'Alene surrounded a small body of soldiers com- 
 manded by Stepto, was neither the doing of the whole tribe, 
 nor mainly of Catholics, but only of some wild young In- 
 dians who joined the Palouse and the Nez Perces, as I have 
 been told by those; who were at the mission at the time, and 
 who succeeded in keeping two-thirds of the whole tribe 
 at home, and out of the battlefield. Nay, more, so thor- 
 oughly have Christian principles been instilled throughout 
 our missions, that they have been strong enough to control 
 these Indians, e\en in presence of fa(5ls urging them impera- 
 tively to war. Joseph's success in his warfare was rather 
 surprising. Having, as we have seen, failed to gain the 
 Cti;ur d'Alene, he ne.vt tried the Flat Heads, and called on 
 Sharlo, that is Charles Louis; but this noble hearted Indian 
 refused to shake hanils with ium, saying: " I do not take a 
 hand which is stained with the lilood of the whites." The 
 council terminated, as I ha^e been told, with these words: 
 " If you fight the whites within the limits of my land, I am 
 bt)Uiid to protect them against you. " Many lives have been 
 spared to our citizens and many millions to our treasury by 
 the christian conduct of the Catholic Indians. Nay, more, 
 no Indian of the Catholic portion of the Nez Perces tribe of 
 which Web is chief, took any part in the war but, on the 
 other hand, man\' rendered service to the government as 
 scouts, mail-carriers, etc. And, yet, before they became 
 Christians, they formed a portion of Joseph's tribe, where 
 they had still many friends and relatives who cHd their best 
 to induce them to join in the fight. 
 
 I ha\e now endeavored to describe the beautiful fruits 
 producer! by Christian civilization among the C(eur (.rAletK', 
 l)ut which, however, are not by any means confined to tK.-m. 
 In other tribes similar results have been obtained as tbK- fol- 
 lowing extract from the Munich Algemeine Zeitung, written 
 by a German Piotestant, giving an account of the Flat Hea«.? 
 Mission, will sufficiently prove: — 
 
 " From the church we were escorted to the bovs scht>ul. 
 where fifty little Indians ire taught reading and ev«J»cring 
 in the Indian and the hjiglish tongues. VV e weix^ extxxxi- 
 ingly interested in the youngsters, and could not help s<xing 
 
sk'r.rc/fF.s or Mopf.rn Indian life. 
 
 that teaching them the Ian^i;agc was no mere rote exercise, 
 but a work which sliowed very careful and zealous training. 
 All of the childreii r'j;id well, altiiouL,di with a slight accent 
 approaching somcw hat to the Italian. They are surpass- 
 ingly (luick at figures, particularly tiie children of mixed 
 blood. We were then invited to dir.ner with two fathers, 
 antl the two Handini broth^MS, who s[)oke luigiish rather 
 indifferently, whilst tlie l-'ather Su[)erior con\ersed elegantly 
 in I'^ench, hjiglish and liern. in. After dinner the brother 
 accompanied us to the garden, which is his special depart- 
 ment, and whilst he entertained us with his dear Indians, 
 we were greatly pleased with the simple honest pride he 
 took in pointing out his massive thickly set cabbages, lovely 
 cauliflowers ,u.il rich Indian corn. These Indians are peace- 
 able, harmless and amiabl'-, avoiding the very shatlow of a 
 ([uarrel with the whites. All the young lads in the mission 
 ;ire recpiired to learn a trade ; some are carpenters, others 
 shoemakers, others again millers ; all, however, have to take 
 a turn at the plo'igh, that tliey may turn out good u.seful 
 citizens ami ihi'ir inciination to roam a.bout is kept down 
 Farming is rert.iinly a big job here, where the process of 
 irrigation is a daily necessity. Hui the example of the Jes- 
 uit Fathers is powerful and alwa\s fmds imitators. In the 
 afternoon we visited the girls' school, which numbers forty- 
 five pupils, under the charge of seven Sisters of the Congre- 
 gation of Providence (mo.'tly Can.ulians). Here, too, good 
 results are shown, more satisfactory, evt:n, than tho.se we 
 witnessed in the boys' school, whilst we m.^ticeii, here, as 
 elsewhere, the superiority of the mixeii bloods over those 
 of the pure Indian type. Returning at about sunset we 
 passed through the numerous Indian estates, with their 
 beautiful fields, and the old Indian thatch re[)laced by dwell- 
 ings of solid i)t-am. As we went along, we were courteously 
 greeted by the nati\es, who conversed and answered all our 
 questit>ns, leaving us most favorably impressed. Losing 
 sight at List of our interestmg Indians, we came away with 
 the i)i6lure of a noble Christian work present to our minds, 
 fondl\' hoping that the civilization as carried on by the Jes- 
 uits in St. Ign.itius Mission, may be crowned with the hap- 
 piest and most successful results." 
 
 I'^rom what has been said, it may be seen that, although 
 the Inili.ms of this family in their native state have but a 
 low grade of morals and teelings, still they possess natural 
 qualities which, under a careful and judicious training, may 
 be developed .uul i ulti\ated until tlu \- are transformed into 
 good citizens and l^\ce•llent Christians, virtuous, honest and 
 well Hehavetl, as the members of my other community. 
 
is 
 
 SK-ETCHF.S or MODERN INDIAN LWR. 
 
 All this should be sufficient to convince any reflecting 
 mind, how great is the work which the Catholic religion has 
 accomplished among these poor children of the forest, and 
 especially may the people of the North-West congratulate 
 themselves upon the trouble spared them by the toils of the 
 missionary. If more has not been tlone, it is because of 
 want of means and of laborers in this portion of the vine- 
 yard, together with outside difficulties, of which every Amer- 
 ican must be aware. Also, the methods adopted by us have 
 been successful without tending to decrease the Indian popu- 
 lation. We made them first our friends, and then Christians ; 
 next, a'ter inducing them to labor, we transferred them to 
 good lands, where we made them pra6lical farmers. We, 
 then, with some help from the government, gave them 
 schools, and so gradually trained them to the habits of civ- 
 ilized life. In this way have we carried on the work in- 
 trustetl to us; may Goil, who has hitherto blessed our 
 undertaking, continue to prosper it forever. 
 
 I now understand that a new line of policy with regard 
 to the Indians is under consi<leration, which consists in bind- 
 ing them to t.ike up their l.uul in severalt)', become citizens 
 arid be protecletl by the laws of the state; this plan is' 
 tliought to ensure tiirir civilization. Jutlging from my ten 
 years' experience, during whicii I have li\ed alternately 
 among the wildest and the most civilized tribes, with tho.se 
 as yet remote from all conta^l with the whites, as well as 
 those intermingled with white settlers, I think that this plan 
 will not t)btain the desired effeft. 1st, Because the Indians 
 look upon the land as their own, lioth by treaty and by the 
 peaceful occupation of generations ; consetjuently the\' look 
 upon this plan as a flagrant injustice, and they will .struggle 
 and die for the preservation of tinii lights. 2nd, An Indian 
 has not been brought up with the manners and customs of 
 the whites ; he is ignorant of their laws; and while in his 
 native condition i^; inca|)able, all at once, of providing for 
 the necessaries of lite by tilling the soil or working for wages. 
 He would be like a fisji out of water, which, after a few use- 
 less struggUv';, dies. 3r(l. Taxes are something which he 
 looks upon as an unbearable imposition, savoring of slavery, 
 rather than .1 necessary means for the support of society. 
 Even civihyrd In^iians consider them an intolerable burden, 
 especially when tiftey art- at all heavy, and when they will 
 be bound to pay taxes, rko wonder if they will give trouble. 
 4th, Th< y believe that there has never been an instance of 
 an Indian :;aining a >uit in court over a white man, but that 
 he must always be guilty, even when in the right. 5th, The 
 Io"iians are fully persuaded that their white neighbors aim 
 
SA-ETC/fES or MODFRW LXPfAX I. IFF.. 
 
 70 
 
 only at grasping their land and property, and that they can 
 be good Indians, only by allowing the stronger to take with 
 impunity whatever they possess. Hence, they have a say- 
 ing that to the whites " a good Indian is a dead Indian." 
 The result, therefore, of such a law would naturally be to 
 drive them to despair, and if they find no other place to go 
 to, they will inevitably be destroyed. 
 
 It seems to me that the management of the Indians would 
 be improved, if the result of the labors of those who have 
 been more successful in the civilization and preservation of 
 the race, would only be considered without predjudice, 
 and their efforts encouraged and .seconded by at least suffi- 
 cient means. I have shown, if I mistake not, that an Indian 
 is capable of civilization ; that some tribes ha\e actually 
 been civilized, whilst others are well advanced towards it, 
 and in no di.'^tant future may be brought to the desired end, 
 and become gradually American citizens. Would it not, 
 therefore, seem advisable to help tho.se who have already 
 volunteered to labor for tht; welfare of the race, and who 
 have purchasetl the knowledge of the best manner of doing 
 this at the sometimes dear price of painful experience? To 
 urge the Indian too far is like applying a tension of a hun- 
 dred weight to a string strong enough to bear only ten. 
 
 It is .said that the constantly increasing pressure of our 
 population in that diredlion is so great that it is necessary 
 the road should he opened. But what if this were in regard 
 to the people of the United States ; would they be protected 
 by the authorities, or would the weaker be left in the hands 
 of the stronger? Is it, moreover, a pressure for the prose- 
 cution of right, or is it not rather one which looks arbi- 
 trary and even against those feelings which the hand of 
 nature has imjjlantcd in every human breast? Should the 
 policy now talked of be carried out, time, I think, will show 
 a different result from the one intended. Are the Indians 
 subjeAs ? Then, wh\- not protect them !> Are they indepen- 
 dent? Then, why disturb them? I think, however, that the 
 best remedy to be ap[)lied in these circumstances is to leave 
 to the Indians as much land as it is necessary for their own 
 u.se and their stock, and let them have sufficient time to ac- 
 quire the habits of civilization, without comi)elling them to 
 have land in severalty. So, the whites will stop their 
 clamors, and the Indians may have a chance to survive.