Vj':;:) o J- P ?- J i 1) Cornell University Library E 99.S2M76 1919 Sellsh I Cornell University y Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924028667321 THE SELISH WRITTEN BY STUDENTS of the Matt Wintiittsiitv of iilontana And Produced by Wi)t Wini\itV9iitp And tKtie Community of iWisisioula Under Direction of MRS. MARGARET P. GANSSLE ' JULY 30. 191 jforetDorb Mrs. Ganssle, director of pageantry in the summer school, is a trail blazer. In a true pioneer spirit she is achieving what most people would call impossible. Within the short space of six weeks she and her Uni- versity class in pageantry, v\ath the co-operation of the public spirited citizens of Missoula, are producing The Selish, our first local pageant. The Selish is only a beginning — imperfect in some respects because the time was so short and because it is an initial attempt; but it represents in its composition and in the co-operation making possible all the details of its production, the spirit of the pageant — the drama of the folk. And it represents also a realization of the kind of public entertainment to which many at the State University and in Missoula have looked forward for years. In offering this to the public Mrs. Ganssle and the English department hope that it will be merely the first of a succession of annual University and Missoula pageants re-presenting in popular dramatic form various aspects of the rich history, tradition, and folklore of the Northwest. George R. Coffman, Chairman of the Department of English. tClje $ageant=iW[as;q[ue This pageant-masque, "The Selish," is offered to the people of Montana, in no sense as a finished art production. Expression, it is, crude and unfinished, of some of the historic richness of this state and particularly of this vicinity. Eighteen students, drawn from various dis- tricts throughout the state, with no training whatsoever in dramatic writing or pageantry, collaborated in the writing of the pageant. These en- thusiastic and sincere students in the short space of five or six days, put into writing the fruits of a week's historical research. This, then, is the pageant, which in most cases, is the result of more than a year's laborious and painstaking effort, more or less professional. That there are nu- merous and flagrant faults is not surprising; but that there is anything at all worthy of presentation is to be wondered at. The foundation for the prologue and interludes was discovered in the Song of the Medicine Man at the birth of a child, as included in an address given by Francis La Flesche in Philadelphia in 1910. The song, an unusual combination of prose and poetical elements, seemed to answer the purpose of the prologue and interludes exactly. The Medicine Man, as interpreted by Francis La Flesche, was Mediator be- tween Man and the Great Spirit. Just such a character seemed artis- tically the one around which to build the Indian Pageant-Masque. Each stanza of his song, invoking the aid of all the powers of Earth and Heaven, in the development of the child, seemed, also, particularly ap- plicable to a race. Therefore, in the prologue and interludes, the direc- tor added to the Medicine Man's Song, the necessary explanations of subsequent action, in form as similar to the Indian song as was possible. The result — a form neither prose nor poetry, without rhyme, and without any reason except the one just stated, may offend the ears attuned to classical meters. But, to the author, it seemed more expressive of the poetical, yet irregular. Indian speech than the precise media of the usual verse forms. The Masque is a blending of the actual Coyote legends as told by the Selish, wdth a spiritual interpretation of the development of the Indian as revealed in the four historic episodes of the Pageant. It, too, is irreg- ular in form, even grotesque in certain portions. But that very blend of the highly poetical, even ethereal, with the close-to-earth and ludicrous is characteristic of the Indian. In talking with them, one finds his fancy being carried away into the empyrean with the sheer beauty and ex- quisiteness of the theme, when, suddenly he is roughly brought to earth by some very mundane, perhaps even coarse statement of fact Aiid, so, this Pageant-Masque, fluctuating between the romantic and the real, the lovely and the ridiculous, the ethereal and the gross, in its form and sub- stance, is intended to reveal, however inadequately, something of the nature as well as the history of the Indian. The music of the Indian dances, and of the songs of Coyote, the Lark, and of the Meadow-Maidens in the Masque, is built on themes taken directly from the Selish. Thus a special effort was made to combine the legends, the actual history, and the music of the Selish tribe in a presentation on ground which was the seed-plot of much of that history In giving this Pageant-Masque a title, "The Selish" was decided upon, for one reason in particular. When Lewis and Clark made their famous expedition, they were told that on the Pacific coast they would find the Flathead Indians. Accordingly, when they had crossed the Rockies, thinking they were near the Pacific, they called the first Indians they met the Flatheads. Since these Indians, who are really Selish, have never practiced the custom of flattening the heads of the newly-born, it is highly unreasonable to persist in applying to them the term "Flathead." Indeed, as one illustrious member of their tribe remarked indignantly to the director: "If the whites know better, why don't they stop calling us 'Flat- heads'?" It was with the specific purpose of correcting this false appelation, to- gether with the general suitability of the title, that the authors chose the name, "The Selish." It is their hope that this Pageant-Masque will be but the beginning of a series of similar productions which shall reveal, more accurately, and more artistically, the noble Selish race. The class presents its work, not as a model, but as a prelude to work of real merit and artistic value, which the future will surely bring forth. It deems it a privilege to be able to make this venture into a rich and promising field of expression for the common folk. It is proud to have begun, however humbly and crudely, a local movement for the develop- ment of community consciousness and integrity through the folk drama. M. p. G. ^^t $ageant°ina£i()ue Comtnttteefii Executive Committee President Sisson Mr. H. T. Wilkinson Mr. George R. Coffman Mr. Quincy Scott Mr. A. N. Whitlock Mrs. Margaret P. Ganssle Mr. Paul C. Phillips Business Manager Mr. Quincy Scott Director Mrs. Margaret P. Ganssle Historical Material Committee Mr. Paul C. Phillips Mr. A. L. Stone Mr. M. J. Elrod Mrs. Peter Ronan Stage Construction Mr. Charles Farmer Publicity Committee Mr. Ralph D. Casey Mr. Quincy Scott Posters Mr. Frederick Schwalm Mr. James W. Dorsey Miss Alma C. Anderson Finance Mr. Quincy Scott Cast Mr. George R. Coffman Mr. Dudley Richards Mr. Fred Angevine Mr. Quincy Scott Mrs. M. J. Hutchins Mrs. Quincy Scott Gate Mr. W. E. Schreiber Costumes Director — Mrs. Edith G. Van Duesen Advising Director — Miss Emeline S. Whitcomb Mr. W. G. Bateman Mr. James W. Dorsey Mrs. Phillip Brown Miss Kathryn Mills Miss Karen Hansen Mrs. C. F. Dorman Miss Margaret Gilbert Mrs. Tyler Worden Miss Grace Buford Mr. W. W. McCormick Mr. E. S. Paxson Mr. Andrew Beckwith Properties Mrs. Newton H. Schweiker Mrs. Quincy Scott Mr. E. C. Moseby Miss Perl Hefferlin Miss Gretchen Van Cleve Directors of Dancing The Rabbit, Higland Fling, Sailors Hornpipe, Dance of the Mist, Falling Star dances were under the direction of Miss Claribel Corbin. The dances of the Raindrops, Fire Spirits, Clouds, Thunder, Lark, Stars, Winds, Forest Sprites, Bluebirds, Moon and Spanish dances were under the direction of Miss Lucille Leyda with student assistants — Madaline Keliey, Helen Candish, Lillian Christensen, Doris Prescott and Clara Case. Indian Dances — Michel Kizer, Arlee. Manuscript Committee Episode I — Mrs. Edith Duncan, Miss Clara Case, Miss Gretchen Van Cleve, Miss Pearl Hefferlin. Episode II — Mrs. Tyler Worden, chairman; Miss Helen Little, Miss Pearl Bowden, Miss Lillian Christensen. Episode III — Miss Edith Montgomery, chairman; Miss Anne Hall, Miss Karen Hansen. Masque — Margaret P. Ganssle. Publication of the Book Mr. A. L. Stone. Editor Mr. Paul C. Phillips Mr. George R. Coffman Cover Design Mr. Frederick Schwalm Music Director of Chorus — Mr. DeLoss Smith Director of Orchestra — Mrs. J. T. Walford Members of the Orchestra — Miss Grace White, Miss Stasche, Miss Bruce, Mr. Adolph Cotitsch, vioHns; Mr. H. A. McLeard, comet; Harry B. Healy, trombone; Shelly E. Schoonover, saxaphone; Joe Root, drum; Mrs. F. T. Walford, piano Harmonization of Indian Themes — Miss Grace White Student Assistant — Miss Zona Shull Make-up Mrs. Philip Brown Mr. W .G. Bateman Miss Anne Reeley Mrs. F. P. Ehlman Mr. Howard M. Jones QCte Casit i^rologue Medicine Man Mr. Quincy Scott Sun Mr. A. L. Stone Moon Marion Schlick Stars Jeannette Duncan Billie Bateman. Catherine Springer, Majorie Fee. Virginia Muckler, Eleanor Lennes, Betty Barnes, Isabelle Smith, Grace Ganssle. Falling Star Marie Donohue Jftrsit d^pisoht Medicine Woman Anne Hall Peetohpeekis (SelishWar Chief) Mr. P- W. Fitzpatrick Two-Bellies Mr. J. E. Buckingham MagPIE-Over-THE-WatER Lillian Christensen Blue Jay Pearl Hefferlin Many-Tongues Mrs. Edith Duncan Plenty-GriZZLY-Bear (Selish Peace Chief). ...Mr. A. N. Whitlock M.A.KES-No-TrackS (Nez Perce Chief) Mr. W. L. PoUinger War-Canoe (Pend d'Orielle Chief) Mr. James Purcell Four Horns i \ Beatrice Forkenbrock s Kootenai Scouts V Black-Moon I ) Kathryn Koch Eagle-Eyes Mr. A. B. Tuteil Chief Pat Kakshe (St. Ignatius) , Blackfoot Prisoners Mr. J. R. Kirabfe, Bill Walterskirchen, Karen Hanson, Mr. H. A. Trexler. Selish Medicine Man Mr. Glenn Sucetti {Situt Cptsfolie (continueb) Falling Bear (Blackfoot Chief) Mr. J. R. Kiralofe Little Beaver (Servant of Weasel) Matt Pearce PiTAMAKAN (Weasel Woman) Miss Mildred Angst Selish Braves Daniel Bandman Mr. W. Wyatt. Mr. R. R. Taylor. Mr. H. A. Trexler, Mr. L. F. Loos. Mr. F. O. Smith. Mr. R. R. Taylor. Mr. K. I. Mc- intosh, Mr. H. H. Saurs, Mr. Sammerson. Mr. Joe Duncham. John A. Enoch, T. A. Price, Craig Wilcox, Francis Cooney. Tom Meagher, Carl Drews. Selish Boys Willie Tonkin William Garver, George Hughes, Edward Conyngham, Forest Schini. Russell Watson. Pierre Michel Mr. R. H. Jesse GoiNG-TO-THE-SuN (Warrior Rival of Pierre) Eugene Simerson Old Woman Old Man Neemaha (Niece of Plenty-Grizzly-Bear) Miss Lucile Leyda Squaws ...Mrs. Kiff Mrs. Edith Montgomery, Mrs. C. F. Dorman, Mrs. Tyler Worden, Mrs. C. F. Dorman, Helen Steffanson. Miss Margaret Ronan. Mrs. Quincy Scott, Grace Sinclair, Aurelia Boles, Karen Hansen, Mrs. V. B. Brewer, Mrs. M. Butzerin, Ruth Kleinolder. Sadie Erickson, Helen Frisby, Evelyn Storhall, Lois Storkell, Ida Hanawalt, Kathryn McAleer, Mary Farrell, Hazel Cain, Helen Ingram, Marian Curzon. Indian Children Forest White Radcliffe Maxey, Ruth Kramer, Jean Kramer, Alene Rutledge. Dorothy Rutledge, Curtis Maxey, Judith Pearson, Dorothy Son- tag, Aurelia Bowls, Nita Schlossberg, Lovinia Hathaway, Zwia Gerdicia, Gwendolyn Mennell, John Burr Lennes, Ruth Knowles, Kathrine Koch, Lucile Sohn, Mamie Frazzier. Jean McMurry, Ross Stockton, Walter Broadhaus, Beatrice Forken- brach, James Brown, Frank Brown. Sit$t Cptsiobe (continueb) Cox Mr. Ralph D. Casey Baptiste (Man of the Post) Mr. Earl Burgett Guide Red Eagle (Blackfoot Prisoner) William Walterskerchen Priestess Mrs. George McAllister jFirjft Snterlube Rabbits Georgianna Fischer, Catherine Conyngham, Adeline Thompson, Evelyn Benedict, Eleanor Marlowe, Lois Dixon, Louise Prescott, Bemice Bene- dict and Frances Fisher. Bluebirds Estelle Hanson, Mary Farrell, Elaine Bates, Madeline Kelly, Bertha Ries, Lelia Paxson. ^econti €pifiotit Long-Hair Mr. George Abott Messenger Matt Pearce Insula (Selish Chief) Mr. F. P. Baird LaMousse (Iroquois Chief) Mr. Earl Burgett Band of Iroquois Daniel Bandman, Mr. R. R. Taylor. Mr. L. R. Loos. Mr. F. O. Smith, Mr. H. I. Mcintosh, Mr. H. H. Saurs, Mr. Sammerson, Mr. Joe Dun- ham, Mr. W. R. Wyatt, John Enoch, T. A. Price, Craig Wilcox. Narcisse Matt Pearce Paul Carl Drews Francis Tom Meagher Pierre Francis Cooney ^econti Snterluiie Trees and Grasses : Lucille Hammond. Catherine Mills, M. Theodora Murphy, Jennie Lundell. Elaine Bates. Agnes Crangle. Effie Cochrain, Hettie Dries. Leamma ^econl> Snterlutie (continueb) * Terry, Estelle Hansen. Mary Laux. Lillian Christensen, Winifred Meeks, Madeline Kelly. Hills Mrs. L. Bulen. Miss Kane, Mrs. Black, Miss Hershey. tH^^ixh Cpiseobe Frenchmen Miss Dorothy Risley. Mrs. Mennell. Miss Bernice Kemp, Arlene Wiley, Lucille Ham- mond. Alice Neal, Lucey Turcott, Martha Black, Bertha Ries, Lucy Kemper, Miss Maiferry, Miss Giles, Miss Frisby, Euphie M. Robinson, Angene Adams, Mailtia Black, Lois James. VOYAGEURS Mr. Ed. La Vasseur, Mr. Firman Gage, Mr. G. Coffman, Mr. Carl Drews, Mr. Francis Looney, Mr. Tom Meagher. Spaniards Miss Helena Hutchens. Helen Frisby, Marguerite Owens, May Campbell, Wilda Linder- man, Wilhelmina Galvin, Gretchen Van Cleve, Alice Jones, Ann Byer. Negroes Mrs. Edith Duncan, Zura Gerdicia, Myma Thomas, Margaret Price, Gwendolyn Mennell, Helen Price, Raymond Merritt. Harlan Fiye, Philip Marks, Myrtle Garrison, Kathryn McAleer, Ludetia Bergan, Miss Hannavalt. Indians Mr. W. H. Schreiber. Mr. H. E. Craddock. Mr. H. A. Trexler. Old Joe Mr. James W. Dorsey Black Dave Mr. Emerson Stone Pickaninny Lucile Sohn Jeremie Boanami Mr. Ed LaVasseur Sailors Georgianna Fisher Faith Jacobs. NiTA (Spanish Dancer) Helena Hutchens tEtirb €pt£(obe (continued) Pierre Gaucher (Left-Handed Peter) Mr. N. H. Schweiker Young Ignatius Mr. H. E. Craddock General Clark Mr. Thayer Stoddard Scotch Dancer Louise Huff Bishop Rossetti Mr. W. J. Jameson Young Ignatius Mr. James Purcell Father Melius Mr. W. H. Batson ?!Ci)irb SnterltJbe Clouds Marion Prescott Helena Hutchins, Helen Streit, Ruth Smith, Virginia Bartland, May Campbell, Marguerite Owens. The Mist Dorothea Kiff Winds Doris Prescott Elaine Bates, Mary Farrell, Estelle Hansen. Raindrops Mary Paulson Perle Bawden, Margaret Gilbert, Ruth Kleinoder, Bessie Day, Bertha Ries, Evelyn Storckell, Ethel Brown, Mildred Lore, Ollie Dobson, Alpha Pearson, Grace Buford, Florence Hill, Dorothy Duncan. Jfourtf) €pi£(obe John Grey Mr. W. J. Jameson Chief Big-Face Mr. N. J. Lennes Father DeSmet Mr. Leon Bulen John Batiste DeVelder Mr. M. J. Elrod Father Nicholas Point Mr. Batson Father Gregory Mengerini Mr. James Purcell Brother Huet (Jack-of-all-trades) Mr. Donovan Worden Brother Calessens (The carpenter) Mr. H. A. Trexler jFotirtf) Cpisiobe (continueb) Brother SprecHT (The blacksmith) Mr. Joe Deschamps Simon (An old Indian) ..Mr. R. R. Taylor Chorus Mrs. T. M. Pearce Miss Zona Schull. Mrs. T. A. Price, Mr. D. W. Fitzpatrick. Mr. A. B. Tutell. Mr. Mead, Mr. Franklin Thomas, Mr. Enoch, Mr. T. A. Price, Miss Margaret Bakke, Miss Maurine Weaver, Mrs. Paul C. Phillips, Miss Mona Fravert, Mrs. L. D. Reed, Mrs. J. A. Russ, Miss Galvin. Mr. DeLoss Smith. Mr. Emerson Stone, Mrs. Lewis, Miss Margaret Hayford, Mr. Dono- van Worden, Mr. Ed LeVasseur, Mr. Quincy Scott, Mr. W. W. Wickes. Mr. R. Bailly, Miss Anne Walsh, Miss Helen Walsh. Miss Adalouie McAllister, Mr. F. Daughters. Mrs. S. L. Dunham. Mrs. H. R. Brewer, Miss Gladys Price, Miss Bett. Chorus of Birds. Animals and Insects Raymond Sturm. Edward Cunningham. Lee Smith. George Hughes, James Hughes, Calvin Pearce, Willie Tonkin. Radcliffe Maxey. Walter Newquist. John Burr Lennes. George Hughes. William Garver. Russell Watson. Coyote Mr. Firman Gage 1 HE Lark Doris Prescott MEADOW Maidens /. Virginia McAuliffe Anne Reely, Lucille Hanmiond, Alice Neal. Jessie Rutledge, Madeline Kelly, Florence Faust. Fox Mr. Dudley Richards Indian (Ssonbolic figure of the race) Mr. Walter L. Pope Thunder Spirits Margaret Rutherford Lois Storckel, Margaret Ogan, Almeta Wiley. Arlene Wiley, Clara Case. Florence Giles, Clara Tillotson, Ruth Kennedy, Florence Hays. Karen Hansen. Fire Spirits Stanford Famsworth George Barr. Steve Mills. Frederick Schlick. Philip Famsworth, Ted Fitzpatrick. Robert Pugsley, Rpbert Schlick. Philip Brown, John Ruswinckel. Paul Keith, Patrick Quinn. ^ift itlafifque (conttnueb) Frank Brown, George Hughes, Jamesbert Garlington, Walter Bradshaw. White Brother (Symbolic figure of white race) Dave Roberts The Judge William Walterskirchen Priest , Mr. Dudley Richards Indian Agent Mr. J. Franklin Tliomas Wood Tick Everett Bennett Spirit of Truth Miss Beatrice Deschamps t^f)e ^eltsii) As the rays of the sinking sun melt into the violet haze of evening, be- hold Sun, Moon and Stars released from their heavenly courses, come dancing in rhythmic circles. While they are whirling thus, in scintil' lescent orbits of beauty, the prophetic figure of a Medicine Man, medi- ator between the race of man and the Great Spirit, comes slowly from out the glooms of the forest. His habiliments are weird, ghastly.' The coat of a great yellow bear falls over his back and head. From his shoulders and arms drop snake skins, the skins of toads, fish, and beavers, teeth and claws of the puma, and the bear. Yet, with ail these strange trappings, his figure is splendid and noble. With right hand uplifted to Heaven, he calls through the hush of the evening. Medicine Man. Ho! Ye Sun. Moon, Stars! All ye that move in the heavens! I bid ye hear me! Into your midst has come a new life ! Consent ye, I implore ! Make its path smooth. That it may reach the brow of the first hill! For lo — a race of man by darkness shrouded. Late — sprung from the womb of Time Trembling, still, in their frailty. Come to inhabit the Earth. To march triumphantly upward. Over the rugged road, stretching over hills of achievement. Discarding their burden of falsehood and crime. As they enter the sacred portals of Truth. I bid ye, hear me, O Stars! Chorus of Stars. Yea, we do hearken! Speak, Great Mediator! Medicine Man. Watch ye nightly above them ! Draw up their hearts from the muck of low passion. Draw up their minds from the crafty and cruel. Burn bright your tapers in God's holy Temple, • Light them to worship the Noble and Pure! I bid ye, hear me, O Sun! Sun. Yea, I do hearken! Speak, Great Mediator! Medicine Man. Fill the high heavens with lustre so splendid. Desire may not baffle nor darken their days; Wake them at dawn with thy tremulous cloud-breaths. Rising like phantoms, pearl, argent and rose; Flood them at noontide with thy aureate splendor. Warm their cold hearts with a golden desire. Marvel their evenings with sacrosanct twilights. Mystical blendings of purple and mauve. I bid ye, hear me, O Moon! Moon. Yea, I do hearken! Speak, Great Mediator! Medicine Man. Folding thyself in thy mantle of midnight. Let but thy face appear, virgin and chaste, Light in the heart of the nocturnal watcher. Devotion as lucent and pure as the dew. As over the tarn, embraced by dark mountains. Thy pathway of light shimmers up to the sky. Guide thou, humanity's infinite yearnings. Up to the Source of Radiance on high. Chorus (of Sun, Moon and Stars) . Faithful are we. Faithful to thee — Thy bidding gladly we do! Medicine Man. I bid ye hear me all ye who do attend This pageant-masque — And it, in truth, a tiny mote That flecks for one brief instant This bright ray which we call Life — This motley pageantry, indeed. Of all who fear and hope and laugh and die. A race of men ye all shall see. Beginning low within the scope of things In bestiality and hate and crime. But, rising ever — growing toward the light. At first, content with pagan hymns and dance. These Red Men, learning of a faith Which seemed to them more vital, more sincere— They sent, o'er weary miles of hardship keen. Four of their number, who should search With ne'er-despairing hearts. One true source of Being — He, the God of All. Then, if successful in their valiant quest. Intermediaries should they bring WTio would reveal the sacred rites That were most pleasing to the new-found King. Then, having waited forty years and more For answer to the inmost longing of their lives. At last, rewarded for persistent faith They greeted with the ardor of their hearts The Emissary of the Great White God — The Promised One they all had longed to see. Watch Ye, with kindly eye, nor critical. The strivings of these simple pagan folk. Who learned through men, not always just. Nor true to that belief they seemed to hold. The meaning of the Christian God of Life. I pray you, love and honor them For aught of good, or noble you may see. And pity all that seems weak, false or low. Remembering always, as you judicate. That man, the world around, has far to go Before the aim of all his finite striving. The goal of Life's divine Adventure Stands revealed. jfirsit Cpisfobe "Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple. Who have faith in God and Nature, Who believe that in all ages Every human heart is human. That in even savage bosom There are longings, yearnings, strivings. That the feeble hands and helpless. Groping blindly in the darkness. Touch God's right hand in the darkness- Listen to this simple legend." Longfellow. It is an evening in October in 1813. Quiet prevails in an Indian en- campment at the mouth of the Hell Gate Canyon. In the distant camp a squaw occasionally attends to the camp fire. Under the new moon, dogs howl dismally, answered by coyotes. A lone medicine woman makes her way toward camp. She suddenly stops, arrested by smoke signals from the Watching Hill (Sentinel). She gazes long and intently at the message of her grandson. Then interpreting it, she announces tri- umphantly the message of her grandson. Medicine Woman. The Selish party has returned, victorious. Her gutteral exclamations bring out the yapping dogs and the members of the tribe who see and understand. TTiey yell, caper and gesticulate. The boys turn handsprings, and ride dogs while the girls squeal and romp. A party of 20 Selish warriors is seen sweeping down Hell Gate canyon, successful from a buffalo hunt in the Blackfoot country. TTiey come nearer, signalling that they have buffalo meat, and several Blackfoot pris- oners. A straggling band of scrawny Kootenais and the more fortunate Pend d'Oreilles approach from the west. They, too, are hunting buf- falo and are glad to meet their brothers of the Selish confederation. The squaws and young men kindle a great fire. There is much excitement and rejoicing. As the party comes nearer, all swerve aside to pass the traditional Medicine Tree Hill, hanging on it gay articles of personal adornment and bowing reverently then moving on, all but Two Bellies who thmb only of the buffalo feast. The War Chief, Peetohpeelds, protect- ingly brings up the rear. Seeing Two Bellies' haste, he hits him with his long whip, decorated with scalps and feathers. Two large warriors buffet the transgressor. War Chief — Peetohpeekis. Two Bellies, great fool! Does greed make you forget Medicine Tree? (Two Bellies shows contrition and turns to Medicine Tree Hill where he weighs the question of what he can best dispense with in his wearing apparel. He has only his long shirt and his leggings left. He begins to pull off his shirt, reconsiders, puts it back on, meditates and finally spreads his leggings in broad display on the tree. He sneaks up toward the fire where the old squaws kick at him and ask scornfully : Magpie-Over-the- Water. Two Bellies all empty inside? Eat buffalo of all people? Blue Jay. Grow too fat to hunt and ride. Many Tongues. Big fool meet bad spirit. Take him to land where no water, no fire. See fire long way off; can't go! See buffalo long way off; can't kill! Deer! Shiver! Starv'e! Long, long time he pass through big woods full of wolves, cougars, rattlesnakes. AH time winter. Some day when much sorrow makes flat his belly he comes where all good Selish wait happy. Nice land. Always summer. Live always with squaw and papooses. Plenty buffalo, plenty fish, one big happy time. No starv- ing, no Blackfeet, Two Bellies better look sharp. Better turn around. Take good look at himself in Bitter Root river. Ugh! (The squaw spits at him. Children who have listened flip stones at his bare legs, reach burning fagots toward him. He turns disgustedly and ashamed and enters a tepee where he procures a buffalo robe too big for him, and sits gazing hungrily as the warriors throw down the great quarters of buffalo meat. As this buffalo feast proceeds, the Black- feet prisoners are given over to the Medicine Woman who brings them to the front and ties them to trees. The preparations for the feast go on. Braves, squaws, and papooses rush for the fresh meat. They gorge on raw bison. Faces, hair, arms and legs are smeared with buffalo blood. Then the hides are divided among the members, the dogs are fed and the fire made larger than ever. Now begins the dances and mirth. A gift dance and a squaw dance make the night merry. A splendidly dressed party of Nez. Perces now comes up and is greeted by the con- federated Selish. They join in the merriment and talk of the much- wanted buffalo, plentiful only in the Blackfoot territory. Plenty Grizzly Bear — Selish Peace Chief. Welcome, you of the pierced noses. Warm at our fires. Sleep by our lodges. We are friends. Makes-No-Tracks — Nez Perce War Chief. We seek the buffalo. The wnnter comes. The bitter root and camas are good. Jerked buffalo satisfies the hungry heart. We journey through the Place of Fright, up the Blackfoot. Winter meat always costs young braves. Our fathers hunted beyond the mountains; we hunt there, too. Big Canoe — Pend d'Oreille Chief. We, too, go to buffalo lands. Some will not come back. Kootenai Scouts. We go up the Rattlesnaks. On the other side of Big Mountain (Jumbo) we find the Blackfoot waiting to kill us. We v^rill get him first from above. Plenty Grizzly Bear. There is wisdom in this. 1 will send Eagle Eyes to look far away. (He dispatches a young brave who lies along his pony's back as he skims the flat toward Rattlesnake creek. During this time the Blackfoot prisoners show much contempt, and call out) : Prisoners. Selish poor! Nez Perces poor! Kootenais poor! Pend d'Oreilles poor! All starve all winter. Have no meat. Steal Blackfoot buffalo. Ugh! No good; always get killed; Big Thief; soon all die; no Selish! All Bitter Root belong to Piegans. A Medicine Man, dressed in white with swans-down covering on head and whose body is painted red, juggles, dances and jigs. He shouts on every beat of the drum (the musicians are painted half black and half red, and use drums, rattles and flageolets. Among the Blackfoot prisoners is Chief Falling Bear, a Blood, who is given some liberty in camp. He admires a Selish woman of mature years and uncommon judgment, who is known as the Weasel Woman. She has reared her orphan brothers and sisters, proved a good protector, and though un- wedded, is very accomplished in the art of stealing horses. Chief Falling Bear determines to win her. Chief. Boy, go tell the Weasel Woman I want her to be my squaw. PlTAMAIC^^''s Servant. Chief, you do not understand. Men are her brothers. She will be no man's woman. I can not give her your message; she would be angry. Chief. Take me to Pitamakan. (Servant escorts Chief to Pitamakan.) Chief. Pitamakan, I have lived all my life alone; I want you now. Be my squaw! Pitamakan. I do not say "yes," I do not say "no." I will give you an answer after this raid. See, there are the enemies' horses. Chief. I shall go into the camp. He goes into the camp and brings out one horse. Pitamakan brings out two cayuses. Pitamakan. We will each go in once more. Pitamakan goes in and captures two more, driving them out. Chief takes one. Pitamakan has a total of four, the Chief two. Chief. I wait no longer for my answer; give it to me now. PiTAMAKAN. I gave you a chance to show me how much man you are. If you take more horses, you are big man — I say "yes;" but I take more horses. I am too big woman for little man like you. I say "no. Chief Falling Bear walks away with bowed head. Grimaces, hoots, taunts follow his rebuff. The Weasel Woman walks nonchalantly away with her captured ponies. Young Braves hoist Falling Bear onto one of his ponies and make him lead the other. Braves. Take your little band of horses. You can ride them both at once. You need them both to carry you away to a land where you can find a rabbit squaw — that is the kind you need. There is no Selish squaw for you. Pierre Michel (a tall handsome French-Canadian, stcuids watching them, and says to himself) : I wonder if there's one for me. I'll try the White Man's way. Pierre Michel appears before the hereditary chief at his lodge. Pierre (very humble and petitioning), I have come. Chief, to ask you for your niece as my wife. I love her; she loves me; may I have her? Chief Plenty Grizzly Bear. I am surprised, Pierre Michel. All the men in our tribe admire you; in two wars you showed undaunted bravery. Our War Chief consults you in difficult matters; he thinks you very wise. But who are you, to marry the niece of a chief? Pierre. I am Pierre Michel, hunter, guide, and interpreter of the expedition led by Mr. Co.x. I am the son of a Canadian and his Indian ynie. Plenty Grizzly Be.ar. I will think about it. (Gives orders for a council.) Plenty Grizzly Bear (to council) Pierre Michel has asked for my niece as his wife. GOING-TO-THE-SUN (a warrior). I, too, love her, and many moons ago her mother promised that she should be mine. (Relatives gather around him, excited and angry.) Old Woman. She must be his. Man. She was promised to him. Woman. No stranger shall have her. Peetohpeekis (war chief). Has she ever promised to become your wife? GOING-TO-THE-SUN. She never did, but her mother promised — Peetohpeekis (to council). I say, give her to Pierre ; he is brave ; he is true ; he has done big things for our tribe. This will unite him to our interests ; it will make him our brother. (General discussion and murmuring of consent through council.) Plenty Grizzly Bear (to Pierre). Our council gives her to you. (Pierre shakes hands with Warrior.) GoINC-TO-THE-SuN (to niece). Maiden, they give you to Pierre, not to me. Pierre is brave and true. I wall always be your brother. Raven Wing (to warrior). Warrior, you are good and kind. You will be my brother, all time. (Pierre opens pack; gives gun to Uncle, cloth, calico and ornaments to women relatives, and pistol and handsome dagger to Warrior. Indian! crowd around, admiring the presents, and gaze at Pierre and the girl. Friends of the girl go to the Chief's lodge to smoke. Pierre follows them there.) Plenty Grizzly Bear. My daughter, you are about to be married. Hear me; always be chaste; always be obedient to your husband. Old Woman. Always, my daughter, be industrious. Old Woman. Always be silent. Old Man. When absent with your husband among your tribes, always stay at home. Raven Wing. Dear friends, I shall never forget what you have said ; I will try to be a good wife and mother. (Girl retires with old woman to hut where she changes buckskin chimese for a gingham one, puts on calico and green cloth petticoat and gown of blue cloth. Woman brings her back to chief's lodge. Gen- eral discussion of Indians with Pierre as central figure in meantime.) Plenty Grizzly Bear. Your friends and people give you one last word of advice; always be true; be honest; be industrious; and above all, be faithful to your hus- band. No Selish was ever unfaithful. A procession is formed. Two chiefs and several warriors carry blaz- ing torches of pitch pine, escorting the bride and groom to the house. They sing war songs in praise of Michel's bravery and their victory over the Blackfeet. The girl is surrounded by young and old women, some rejoicing and some crying. Men move on first in slow procession, chant- ing war song. Women follow at short distance. They arrive in front of the house, form circle and commence dancing and singing for several minutes. Calumet of peace goes around and when the last puffs of smoke have disappeared, Michel solemnly shakes hands with the Warrior. GOING-TO-THE-SUN. Be kind and good to her. May you both be happy. (Pierre embraces chiefs, and takes girl to his room amidst laughing, crying and shouting of all the Indians. ) SCENE AT TRADING POST. It is Christmas, 1813. Cox and a party of fur traders enter a trading post near Hell Gate canyon. Cox greets man in charge of Post. Many Indians are grouped about, looking with interest and curiosity at the traders. Guns are fired. Cox (to men of Post). They told us that where the Eiathead river joins a bold mountain stream, we would find the trading post of McMillan. BaptistE (man in charge of Post). Glad to see you. Travel far? Where you from? (Indians come and go, examining traders minutely and talking among themselves. ) Cox. My name is Cox, sent to explore and establish trading posts on the upper Columbia. We have just come from the Spokane House where we were forced to eat some of our horses for meat. (All examine thin horses which are included in the party. Indians point pit3angly at them.) Baptiste. Spend your winter here! Our tobacco and trading goods as well as ammunition for the Indians have run out. We need provisions! Cox. Pierre, bring in the provisions. (To Baptiste.): I have with me a bag of flour, a bag of rice, tobacco, tea, and coffee, some arrow root and fifteen gallons of rum. Besides I brought two cases of guns. Pierre brings bags of provisions and unwraps them, showing them to the Indians who crowd about. When he begins handing out the guns, some are amazed, some terrified, and a few delighted. These explain in their sign language and grunts the use of the guns to the others, and all begin to dance and shout in delight. Baptiste. We are much obliged to you, Mr. Cox, for these things. The pro- visions are very v^'elcome, but not more so than your company. It is lonely here and we are glad to see vv^hite men. Our Selish Indians are encamped about here for the winter. TTiey have just defeated their enemies, the Blackfeet, and have taken many prisoners. Cox. Let's celebrate Christmas together! (A noise is heard. Indians are seen running.) Guide. What is that? Baptiste. TTie Indians are putting to death one of their prisoners. (All hasten toward the place of torture.) Young Man. Bring out the prisoners. Let us see the cowardly BlackfootI (Assenting shouts and cheers from the crowd. Squaws get sticks. After some delay, several young braves with the medicine man and priestess advance to the place where the prisoners are held.) Medicine Man (advancing to door of lodge) Blackfeet, we have brought you back from a red battlefield. It was made red by the blood of our young men. There are widows among the squaws that cry for revenge. We have heard you boast that you are brave. We know you are cowards and we are going to prove it. (Warriors bring prisoners roughly forth. They are brought to middle of camp and one young man is tied to a stake. The barrel of a gun is heated by the Selish and applied to legs, neck and arms of the young warrior. ) Blackfoot Prisoner. My heart is strong; you do not hurt me; you are fools; you do not know how to torture; try it again. We torture your relations a great deal better, because they cry aloud like litde children. You are not brave, you have small hearts, you are afraid to fight. (Turning to one of his torturers) : It was by my arrow that you lost your eye. (The Selish darts at him and knifes his eye. The disfigured Blackfoot turns to another.) I killed your brother and I scalped your old fool of a father. (The warrior jumps at and scalps the prisoner and is about to kill him when the chief stops him.) It was I (turning to the chief) that made your squaw a prisoner last fall. We put out her eyes; we tore out her tongue; we treated her like a dog. Forty of our young war- riors — (The chief shoots him through the heart. The dead Blackfoot is dragged away and a young woman prisoner is dragged to the stake. Cox shoulders his way to the chief's side.) Cox. Chief, this torture can't go on! Have your people no mercy for their prisoners? Chief. No, the Blackfeet do this. All red warriors do it. White men have the hearts of women. They must shut their mouths. (Torture of woman starts.) Cox. Kill your prisoners if you will, but torture them you shall not as long as the white man is near. I have spoken! Priestess (speaking to chief and torturers). You cowards! You have not the hearts of fleas! Will you listen to the words of the lily-hearted pale face? Let him go. We were happy before he came. Let us be happy again. Will you have your enemies say you are cowards, dogs, fools? Are the taunts of the Blackfeet true? Peetohpeekis I cannot make them stop. White Friend! My heart is eaten! My squaw! The Blackfoot doss took her many moons ago. Twenty Blackfoot scalps hang on my lodge pole, but I sorrow. I do not want another squaw. I want my Innecocose. Tomorrow we torture and kill the dogs which we have held since the Moon of Falling Leaves. We will make them twist like rattlesnakes. Cox. Listen, Chief. This is the white man's way! We know that peace is better than war, but if we war, we show our enemies the big heart by being kind to our prisoners. Understand? We get back our own. We are happy again. Be Big Chief! Show Blackfeet you Big Heart. Don't kill prisoners tomorrow, send them back to their homes. They may send back your wife. Think, Chief! PeeTOHPEEKIS (silent for a time, then shaking his head). No! No! You do not know Blackfoot! They kill all Selish. (Silent a long time.) If our chief and people say "yes" we will send back prisoners. White Friend. If the Blackfeet follow our example, we will kill no more prisoners, but I tell you, our people will laugh at you and call you "fool." (A council is called, and after much discussion with the Chief, it con- sents to let the prisoners go. The prisoners are brought forth, mounted on fair horses, provided by the fur traders, and given plenty of jerked buffalo to last them until they reach home.) Cox. Blackfeet, warriors, you may thank the noble Selish. They let you go to your homes. Go and tell your people to do as they have done. Be big like the Selish. Send back the Selish prisoners. Send back the squaw of Chief Peetohpekis. Take this letter to the traders at Fort des Prairies and tell them Cox said to help make friends. All every- where, be good Indians. (They depart slowly. The Indians watch in the dusk, then move quietly away. In the light of the rising moon, the lone figure of Peetoh- peekis is revealed in the solitude of the deep woods, calling on the Great Spirit to send to him the spirit of his lost wife.) Jf irgt Snterlube A symbolic scene of the Winds, Clouds, and Rain is halted by the Medicine Man. Medicine Man. Ho! Ye Winds, Clouds. Rain, Mist, All ye that move in the air, I bid ye, hear me! Into your midst has come a new life. Consent ye, I implore! Make its path smooth. TTiat it may reach the brow of the second hill. For, having heard of spirit more sublime, Than primal gods they worshipped. Swift were they to send, o'er leaden marches. Ambassadors to seek and ascertain The true and only source of Light and Life, Chorus of Wind, Clouds, Rain and Mist. We who move in the air. Our willingness declare To heed Thee in all we do. ^econti €pt£(obe "Father and God, how far above All human thought, thy wondrous love ! How strange the path by which thy hand Would lead the tribes of this bleak land From darkness, crime and misery To live and reign in bliss with Thee." DeSmet. Scene: Selish camp, about 1815. The camp is stricken with a fever. Those who are well are engaged in caring for the sick. One mother who has lost her baby is sobbing, heart-broken, and covering her head with dust. One old warrior. Long Hair, is lamenting the death of his wife. Pine Leaf. Long Hair. The earth is dark. I make offering to the Sunset, but the Great Spirit has no pity. He does not save Pine Leaf, my Pine Leaf. I pray to the Stars to show me where the Great Spirit lives who can help me! Suddenly a messenger comes speeding into camp. Instantly the in- habitants are aroused. Strangers! TTiey come! Enemy? No, friendly. How many? Messenger. Chief Insula. Messenger. Insula. Messenger. About twenty. Preparations ensue for their arrival. Presently a party of Iroquois arrives, headed by Ignace La Mousse, a noble and dignified chieftziin. He is welcomed by Chief Insula of the Selish. Insula. Where you come? Who are you? La Mouse. We travel many moons from Rising Sun. From Caughnawaga Mis- sion we start. We are Iroquois. You? Insula. Selish. Rest here. Let us smoke. Our hearts are peaceful as yours are. We are friends. After the smoking of the calumet, food is brought. Before the Iro- quois eat, they cross themselves, thereby arousing the curiosity of the Selish. Their rosaries, too, attract much attention. The children draw near, pointing to the rosaries. Finally La Mousse takes off his rosary, handing it to Insula to examine. He looks at it carefully, then passes it on to some of his men. After looking at the rosary, the chief directs the squaws to bring skins, which they offer to trade for the rosaries. The Iroquois refuse to barter, clasping the symbol of their faith to their hearts. La Mouse. Oh, brothers! You do not understand. This is the sign of Great Spirit. We will not part with it. It keeps Evil One away. Long Hair (half in joy, half sobbing). At last I hear of Great Spirit to help me. Maybe He will hear me. Insula. Brothers, our camp is smitten with fever. Many die. We pray. No one helps us. We need the Great Spirit. You tell us. We listen. La Mouse. 1 know not so much. This (pointing to rosary) points the way to trail where Great Spirit is. We pray every sunset and sunrise. We ask Him to help us. We make sign, like this (crossing himself). That makes us safe from Evil One. Our Great Spirit is the only right one. He is Father of all. Insula. We want to serve your Great Spirit. We do not know how. Let us send some of our people to find the right way to worship the New Spirit. A Council is assembled. Chief Insula addresses his warriors. Insula. Our brothers tell us we have the wrong way to worship Great Spirit. TTiey make sign to keep Evil One away. Maybe if we leam their sign we can keep the fever away. We vsnll send some braves to find the great White God. NarcISSE (a warrior). Where, Chief, do we go? La Mouse. In great city, far down the big water, you will find the Black Robes. They will teach you. A number of braves declare their willingness to search for the Black Robes. Insula. It is not necessary for all to go. Let the Council choose four from these braves. Narcisse, Pierre, Paul and Francis are chosen. Insula. You are brave men. Our people will always bless you. Our hearts are with you always. Narcisse. We will start now. If we return it will be a happy day for all. If we are killed by our enemies, other warriors will go until the black robes are found. As the four delegates depart, Ignace La Mousse and his Iroquois brethren chant a hymn in fervent hope of their safe return. ^econb llnterlube Ho! Ye Hills, Valleys, Rivers, Lakes, Trees, Grasses, All ye of the Earth I bid ye, hear me ! Into your midst has come a new Life, Consent ye, I implore! Make its path smooth that it may Reach the brow of the third hill! Now, aided by their brother, white. They learn the worship of the Christian God. In old St. Louis, noble Fathers reassure them TTieir weary leagues of quest were not in vain; That budding spring without delay, will bring Black-robed priests to point the way of Life. i:tlirti Cpigotie Serene, I fold my hands and wait. Nor care for time, nor tide, nor sea, I rave no more 'gainst time and fate. For, Lo, my own shall come to me! — Burroughs. Scene : A street in St. Louis, 1 840. It is Sunday morning. Church service being over, the people as is their custom, are beginning the festiv- ities of the day. Flocking toward the river front, we see them, a mot- ly crowd; the French in blanket-coats and blue kerchiefs, voyageurs in buckskins, gaily-adorned. Spaniards, Negro boatmen, Yankee farmers, Indians of various tribes. A hearty, contagious joy characteristic of frontier life, permeates all. As the crowd crosses the green, they call upon Nita, a charming Spanish girl, to dance for them. At first reluc- tant, she finally dances in the riotous abandonment of the Spaniards. The exhiliration of the day and the dance prove too much for two negro boatmen, one of whom wears the feather denoting his pugilistic cham- pionship. Old Joe challenges Black Dave, the champion. Old Joe. Come on, deah, Black Dave! You all got no business wearin' that featha! Black Dave. Ah'U show you, yah black rascal! A crowd immediately gathers to see the fight. It is only a few moments more before Black Dave has demonstrated his physical superior- ity by extracting a rather halting admission from his adversary. Two young sailors, delighted with the outcome, begin to caper. Jeremie Bonami (a voyageur). Go ahead, there, Jackies, show us a step or two! Sailors. Sure, if you'll sing when we're through! TTie lads dance a hornpipe which is loudly applauded by the on- lookers. The boys remind Jeremie of his promised song. Sailors. Now, Jeremie, your turn! Jeremie, evidently a favorite, responds with the following: "The Voyageur." Dere's someting stirrin' ma blood tonight. On de night of de young new year. Wile de camp is warm an' de fire is bright An' de bottle is close at han' — Out on de reever the Nort' Win' blow, Down on de valley is pile de snow ; But what do we care so long as we know We're safe on de log cabane? Drink to de healt' of your v\Hife an' girl, Anoder wan for you* frien*. Den geev me a chance, for on all de worl' I've not many frien' to spare — I'm bom w'ere de mountains scrape de sky. An' bone of ma fader an' moder lie. So I fill de glass an' I raise it high An' drink to de Voyageur! So dat's de reason I drink tonight To de men of de Gran' Nor' Wes', For hees heart was young an' hees heart was light So long as he's leavin' dere, I'm proud of de same blood in ma vein I'm de son of de Nor' win' wance again. So we'll fill her up till de bottles drain. An* drink to de Voyageur! At the conclusion of the hearty applause which follows this song, Jeremie insists on a Highland Fling from Jennie, a popular litde Scotch lass. Jeremie. Jennie, my girl, we're waitin' for a fling from you ! She responds wath an unusually lively fling. Jeremie. Now. you. Black Dave, there, kick your heels a while an' I geeve you a pipe of good tobac'. A fiddler in the audience begins to play a lively air and Black Dave shows the crowd that his toes are as lively as his arm is strong. As he is performing in hilarious fashion, a boatman's chant bursts upon the air. Boatman's Song. O Polly Brown, I love your daughter. Chorus. Away, my rolling river! Verse. O Polly Brown, I love your daughter! Chorus. Ah! Ah! We're bound awa^, 'Cross the wide Missouri! A canoe bearing fur-traders and two Indians comes into sight. They land and approach the scene of merrymaking. One of the Indians ad- dresses Jeremie Bonami. Pierre Gaucher (Left-handed Peter). We come to find Black Robes. Show us where. Jeremie. I tak' you. Le's see! O dere is General Clark. He help you fin' pries'. (Addresses Clark, who is one of the crowd.) Here are some Indians from Nor' Wes'. Dey want de pries*. Clark. You say you want a priest? Furtraders. Yes, these are Selish Indians who have heard of the Christian's God. They want Missionaries for their tribes. They have come over three thousand miles, most of the way on foot, to find the Black Robes. We picked them up at St. Joseph's Mission. Clark. I'll do all I can for them. When they have come all that distance for a Black Robe, they are certainly going to have one. Here comes Bishop Rosati now. (To the Bishop). Father Rosati, here are two Selish from west of the Rockies. They have come over three thousand miles afoot to find a Black Robe and to hear about a Christian God. Bishop Rosati (passing hands over them in benediction). The peace of God be upon you. You are good children. (The Indians kneel in gratitude and joy as the Bishop blesses them). Pierre Gaucher. O Black Robe, for many moons we follow trail to you. You will tell us the truth. One of our Iroquois brothers told us of a new Great Spirit. He told us that the white people far away toward rising sun knew the true Great Spirit. When we heard this, we called a big council to send some one to find out the truth. Four of our chiefs started here to St. Louis to see. Three times did they fail to reach you. Now we come. Tell us the truth. Bishop. What you were told by the white man is true. God is all powerful. There is but one God. He is a Spirit. He is everywhere. If we are good we shall see Him after our death; if we are bad we shall never see Him. Jesus Christ, Son of God, was made Man. He labored among men and taught them how to live. Christ tells us we must baptize our children or they will go to the Evil One. Come. I will baptize you with Holy Water. You shall have Black Robes to help you. Come! During the absence of the Bishop and the Indians, the villagers begin to dance on the green. A negro begins to sing this song: "WHO BUILT DE ARK." Chorus. Uh! Whoo built deAhk? Brudder Norah. No-rah! Uh! Who built deAhk? Brudder Norah built de Ahk! Say Mistah Rabbit, What makes you head so ball? Glory be to Gawd! I bin a buttin' thoo de wall. Chorus — Say, Mistah Rabbit, What makes you sides so thin? Er, Glory be to Gawd ! Deze been er skeetin' thoo de win'. Chorus — Say, Mistah Rabbit, What makes you coat so brown? Glory be to Gawd! Hits humble to de' groun'. Chorus — Say, Mistah Rabbit, What makes you tail so white? Glory be to Gawd! I kerries hit out er sight! Chorus — The crowd demands another stanza, but at that moment the sound of a hymn comes from the church. The merrymakers pause for a moment, reverently. Down the street come Bishop Rosati, Father Helias, several other Fathers, General Clark, and the visiting Indians. As they ap- proach. Father Helias speaks. Father Helias. Your tribe shall have the Black Robes. You have sent for them before. I remember two from your tribe a few years ago, who came here. They died here, but the church made their last moments easy. Then, later. Old Ignace came with two children. I baptized them my- self. What become of Old Ignace. Pierre. Old Ignace, he died. The Sioux killed him. Bishop Rosati. Well, this time, your faith shall be rewarded. Young Ignatius, you stay until spring and guide the Black Robes to your people. And, Pierre, you go with all speed with the message that Black Robes are coming. We will send them to you in early spring. Remember, we promise. As the canoe speeds away, the music of a hymn echoes from the cathedral. ^econb Snterlube Engaged in fanciful measures, the Birds of the air Animals of the Forest, and all Insects appaer. As they dance joyously, the Medicine Man comes slowly upon them. He speaks: Medicine Man. Ho! Ye birds, great and small. That fly in the air! Ho! Ye animals, great and small. That dwell in the forest! Ho! Ye insects that creep among the grasses. And burrow in the ground! I bid ye, hear me! Into your midst has come a new Life! Consent ye, I implore! Make its path smooth That it may reach the brow of the fourth hill! Chorus of Birds. Animals, Insects. All creatures, great and small Make answer to thy call! Gladly we obey thy just commands! Medicine Man. At length, with faith and patience strained. By sluggards months of waiting for the priests. Their eyes are gladdened by the cheering sight Of black-robbed Father, gracious, noble, kind DeSmet, beloved of Indians, far and wide. Led by DeSmet, they worship joyfully Their new-found God, and temple elevate That shall to them, be holy place of prayer. Forever sacred to the Great White God. Jfourtij €pi6oHit Scene: Camp at Pierre's Hole. Time: Evening, Sunday, July 3, 1840. The camp is busy preparing the evening meal. Groups of women are standing about the fire, cooking meat. Children are romping and playing. Bucks and braves are standing in small groups. The chief's tent is a little in the foreground and the flap is dow^n. The chil- dren do not play near at all. In the midst of the hustle, John Gray, a guide, appears. As he enters, the warriors gather around him to hear his message. John Gray. Listen, children of the Great Spirit! I come to you vnth a message from the white man. The Black Robe will be with us soon. He is coming. You have waited long and now he comes. Let Gabrielle Pandhomme go to meet him; make ready for him. Let the women be ready to greet him. He brings with him teaching of the Great Spirit. Prepare a great welcome. The camp becomes a bustle of great excitement and hurry. One man goes around to all the tepees spreading the news. Presently the advance guard is seen, and a great hush falls on the camp. From the rear of the camp comes the cavalcade. As the figure of the Black Robe ap- pears, the crowd pushes forward. The old men weep for joy and the women and children shout. The sick are brought up on litters. The warriors stand ready to receive him. And after the excitement has died down a little body of braves escort the Father to the teepee of Chief Big Face. There is a moment's silence; then one of the braves steps to the door and says: Brave. Chief Big Face, the Black Robe has come — he is waitmg your greet- ing. The braves step back from the entrance and leave Father DeSmet alone, facing the door. The flap is thrown up and Chief Big Face in all his glory of paint and feathers stands before them. Chief Big Face. Black Robe, welcome to our land. Our hearts rejoice, for today the Great Spirit has answered our prayers. Several times we have sent our brothers to the Great Black Robe. We are all your children. Show us the path we must follow to reach the white man's God. We wanted to see you. The Great Spirit had pity on us in great battle with Black- feet. He helped us to clear from all danger the trail you must follow. Fifty Flackfeet were killed, but none of our warriors. You see, the Great Spirit helped us. We want to know more about him. Many times we sent our brothers to find you. Speak, Black Robe, speak! We are your children. Our ears are open. Our hearts will receive your words. Father DeSmet. It is with a happy heart I come to your land of mountains, sunshine and laughing waters. I come not to rob you of your freedom, but to teach you of the True God. Because you sent for me I know you want to know of the White Man's God, I know you want to worship that God. I cannot stay long wdth you, but I shall return to you in the spring and bring with me plows and hoes that you may learn to farm. You and your people have given me a great welcome. Let us call the tribe together and offer grateful thanks to the True God, who has brought us together. At this point one of the fur traders, John Baptiste de Velder, steps up to Father DeSmet. John Baptiste. You are Belgian. I know by your voice. I am a flemming from Ghent. I was a grenadier in Napoleon's army. For years I have hunted beaver here in the Rockies. It brings back my youth to see you. I say my prayers yet, what I remember. Father DeSmet. We will have mass. You say your prayers then. It is good you re- member. I am happy to find a countryman here. Try to be good. Help these Indians. A chief brings a tiny bell for the service. Chief. Great Black Robe, here, call our people. The Father rings the bell and the tribe assembles in awe and silence. They crowd forward for good places. On a crude altar, adorned with flowers, the first mass in the Rockies is performed. After a hymn, sung in French by the traders, in Flemish by John and in their own tongues by the Selish, Father DeSmet makes his farewell appeal. Father DeSmet. This plain where we have had our first mass together let us call the plain of the Holy Sacrifice. TTiough I leave you now, I shall return in the spring. I beg you to have prayers at sunrise and sunset, and on the Sabbath. I appoint Pierre to lead you in prayer and to baptize you when necessary. Your welcome has gladdened my heart and I go forth with joy. On my return I will bring other black robes to help you. Till then, pray and be faithful. Farewell, my children. Peace be with you. Chief Big Face. Black Robe, may the Great Spirit accompany you on your long and dangerous journey. At sunrise and sunset will be pray that you may safely reach your white brothers in the great city. We will continue through the moons until you return to your children of the mountains. When the snow has gone from the mountains and the first green of spring comes out, our hearts which are now sad will rejoice, and we will go forth to meet you. Farewell, Black Robe, Farewell. The brave warriors escort Father DeSmet up the hill. The camp is silent. The tribe stands watching as one man, the departure of the man they love. At the crest of the hill, the Black Robe turns, Ufts his arm as though in blessing. Jfiftt) Cpissolie A short time before this scene opens, a small band of Blackfeet being pursued by the Crows has sought refuge with the Selish. As a result of this, the Selish are attacked but win a glorious victory over the Crows. Just at the moment of victory the Black Robes arrive and prevent further blood-shed. The next day, the priests set out with this band of Black- feet to try to find their tribe and to effect a reconciliation between them and the Selish. On the journey. Old Nicholas, the chief of the band, falls from his horse and is killed. He is buried in a beautiful little valley through which they are passing. As the scene opens. Father DeSmet, two other priests. Young Nicholas with his wife and three small children and the other members of the bemd, are seen kneeling in prayer about the grave of Old Nicholas. A cross has been set up at the head of the grave, which is covered with flowers. At the very moment the last prayers of the funeral service are uttered, a busy stir breaks the deathlike silence of the surrounding Indians. A Selish approaches at full gallop. Gabriel, Father DeSmet's interpreter, hastens toward him. Gabriel. What word you bring us from the Selish ? Speak ! Messenger. The Great Chief Victor is now only two hours march from you. He will be glad to meet the Blackfeet and make peace. Ignace, the guide, who has been sent out in search of Big Lake, the head chief of the Blackfeet, rides up in great haste, dismounts and ad- dresses Father DeSmet. Ignace. Big Lake with eighty lodges of Blackfeet is approaching. He has re- ceived your message and also one from Victor, chief of the Selish. Young Nicholas. Let us make ready to receive them. A bustle of preparation ensues. Two boys are sent to bring up the horses. The men of the party mount and form a single line with the priests in front. All gaze eagerly toward the mountain. As soon as the Blackfeet are distinguished in the distance, the camp rends the air with yells and songs of joy to which the newcomers respond. The line ad- vances to meet them. At the signal (the discharge of all the guns) both parties dismount. Tail Bearer (Grasse Toque) advances first. He wears an enormous toque on his head. This is a tail seven feet long, made of horse or buffalo hair, interwoven with his own. Instead or floating behind him in the ordinary way, this tail is located upon his forehead and stands out spirally, something like a rhinoceros horn. Tail Bearer is followed by Chief Big Lake and several of his braves. Tail Bearer speaks. Tail Bearer. Our great chief. Big Lake, bids me to say to you Black Robes that you are welcome in the lodges of the Blackfeet. He has heard much of your good deeds. He comes with peace in his heart. Father DeSmet. We have long sought to make friends of ail the Blackfeet. We are happy to be among you. Our hearts are filled with messages of love from the Great Spiirt to you. We long to teach you and help you. All listen attentively and respond with a loud voice expressing their pleasure and satisfaction. All press forward and there is much hand- shaking and talking. A very old man, entirely blind, is brought up on a buffalo robe by four young braves. Seeing Snake (the old man). I have wanted to know the religion of the Black Robes. I could not reach you. Tell me about the Great Spirit. (While they are conversing, the cry is raised: "The Selish, the Selish are coming." The priests and chief men advance to meet them. The Selish dismount and welcome the priests affectionately. Father DeSmet conducts the chief men of each tribe to the large lodge which has been assigned to him. They seat themselves in a circle. Nicholas' wife ap- proaches carrying the calumet. She is accompanied by two other women, on the breast of one of whom rests the head of the pipe, and upon that of the other the stem, handsomely adorned with feathers. After it has gone around a few times. Father DeSmet speaks. Father DeSmet. Chiefs and braves of the Selish and Blackfeet, we have met here today to seal a covenant of peace and friendship. Let each speak what is in his heart. Nicholas. My heart is filled with gratitude to the Selish. They are brave men. They welcomed us into their lodges and saved us from death. They have learned from the Black Robes the way of life. The Great Spirit helps them in battle. Akosia. Many months ago during our great buffalo hunt, I was separated from my companions and captured by a Selish war party. TTiey took me to their camp, as I thought to torture me. The Black Robe was there and told them how they were displeasing the Great Spirit. They gave me meat emd drink and let me go to my own people. I have made no more war on the Selish. I have tried to please the Great Father of the Black Robes. Rising Wolf (who was some time with the Selish). When we met the Selish and Nez Perces we had plenty of meat Tl\ey were short. We gave them to eat. The Selish, before they would touch anything, put their hands to their foreheads, made the sign of the cross, then a good prayer; the Nez Perces fell upon the food like starving beasts. Sunday, the Selish sat quiet in their lodges encouraging each other in well doing; while the Nez Perces put on their paint and fine clothes and went here and there for more harm than good. So, in the fight with the Crows, it was only the Nez Perces who had any losses to mourn. I saw by this that the white man's God is good to the good; but also that when he chooses he knows how to find the wicked, to punish them as they deserve. Father DeSmet. Blackfeet, would you receive a Black Robe who should come to live in your plains and dwell in the midst of you? Would your hearts open to his word? Would you willingly follow the trail that the Son of the Master of Life, Jesus Christ, came to mark on earth and in which he wished to have all the nations walk? The Selish, the Kalispells, the Kootenais, have all received the word of God; they are walking in the trail that leads to Heaven. They have throv^n aside all that is bad, they have buried the hatchet; they have forsaken drink, v^fhich makes the Blackfeet mad and unhappy. They have renounced thievery and depre- dations. Blackfeet, speak! I am listening. I will take your words to the Great Chiefs of the Black Robes. Speak, if your words are good, I will plead your cause before them. I love you sincerely ; I would like to see you happy, practicing and loving the Great Spirit's word. Speak the words of your heart. Big Lake. Black, Robe, I speak in the name of the chiefs and the braves; the words that you announce from the Master of Life are fair, we love them. We hear them today for the first time. Black Robe, you are only pass- ing our land; tomorrow we will hear your voice no more; we shall be as we have always been, children who have no father to guide them. We shall be like the prairie dogs who have their lodges in the ground and know nothing. Black Robe, come and set up your lodge with ours; my heart tells me that you will be listened to. We are evil, we have bad hearts, but those who bring the good word have never reached us. Come, then. Black Robe, and the Blackfeet will listen to you and our young men will learn to have sense. Victor. Black Robe, will it be displeasing to you for us to show our joy in our own way? Father DeSmet. Do your best to show your friends and brothers that your hearts are glad. A great dance in which all join, most fittingly expresses the joy of their hearts. ^txtf) €pt£(otre Scene IV. The Fonuding of St. Mary's Mission. Scene: Present site of Stevensville. Time: First Sunday, October. Feast of Our Lady of the Rosary. A company comes down over the hill driving oxen hitched to heavy carts, led by Father DeSmet and an Indian guide. Chief Paul or Big Face and the faithful John Baptiste de Velder accompany him. There is great joy and rejoicing in camp. Men, v/omen and children all strug- gle to be first to shake hands with Father DeSmet and his company. The camp is notified that the missionaries have come and are summoned to appear. Father DeSmet is invited to the lodge of Chief Big Face. The oxen in the meantime are unhitched, fed, watered, etc. All being assembled, the Chief gives the signal and they pray aloud. Chief Big Face then turns to Father DeSmet, while the tribe is still on bended knee and says: Chief Big Face. Our Great Black Robe, guide us and direct us toward Christianity. (The tribe weeps for joy over the arrival of the Black Robe). Father DeSmet. It is with pride and with great joy in my heart that I see that you have kept up the teachings of the past year. This little nation of the Selish appears to be a chosen people out of which can be made a model tribe. We have resources for obtaining such results here in this valley. Your remoteness from corrupt influences, your horror for idolatry; your liking for the white man and for the Black Robe in particular; the central position of the mission ; the sufficiency of land for several settlements ; the fertile soil; the protection of the high mountains, points to the success of this undertaking. Such, my dear people, are the advantages of this locality. First, you must have a profound respect for the only true religion and ail that relates to it. Second, you must have respect for authority, for the aged, and for the parents. You must be just, charitable and generaus to all men. Third, with regard to yourselevs you must be modest, discrete, gentle. You must live pure lives and love w^ork. Father Point (he steps forward), our architect, has already drawn the plans for our village. Father Point will be assisted in this work by Brother Huet, the 'Jack of all trades' man. Brother Claessens. the cra- penter, and Brother Spicht, the blacksmith. We have brought with us ploughs, to break the soil, saws and picks to clear the ground for tilling, and hammers and spades and nails for erecting buildings. In a few days, we shall have a comfortable little village. Such, my dear people, are the rules we have drawn up for the community. (Indians express joy, wonder and surprise). Ceremony of founding the Mission: Father DeSmet advances, takes a white cross in hand, and solemnly places it in the center of the camp. Father DeSmet. With this symbol I now place the future Mission under the patronage of the Blessed Virgin, and name it St. Mary's Mission. (Indians flock to press their lips reverently upon the emblem of their salvation and swear upon bended knee to be ever faithful. Ceremonies end. Chant Vexilla Regis). Old Indian Simon (rushes forward and clasps his hands toward the heavens) . Why, this is the very spot on which little Mary said the house of prayer would be built. (Expression of surprise on part of bystanders). Father DeSmet. Who was little Mary? Simon. Long ago some Indian lodges were camped on this spot. Mary, an Indian girl about thirteen, became sick and died, after having been bap- tized at her own request by an Iroquiois who happened to be present. While thanking God for the baptism just received, she suddenly cried out, with hands trembling and pointing to heaven: Mary. I see the heavens open and the Mother of Jesus inviting me up to Her. (Turning to the astonished Indians she added) : Listen to the Black Robes when they come. They will come to this very spot, where I die, and will build the house of prayer. Father DeSmet. Rejoice, my kind people. Little Mary's prophecy heis come true. Together they sing Lauda Zion. The beautiful old chant goes up from the grateful hearts of the entire assembly. jf iftt snterlute Medicine Man. Ho! All ye of the heavens! All ye of the air! And all ye of the earth! I bid ye all to hear me ! Into your midst has come a new life! Consent ye, consent ye, I implore! Make its path smooth — Then shall it travel beyond the four hills ! Chorus of all Birds, Animals. Yea, we do hear thee. Great Mediator! Thy bidding gladly we do! Medicine Man. And O, ye people. Travelers all. Beyond the four hills of this halting march That we name Life — The hills of infancy, of youth, of manhood, and old age. The hills, surmounted ,too, in lives of races — I beg you list the while I do interpret Symbolic scenes that now do swiftly follow. In olden days before word came of White Man's God, Coyote seemed both wizard and Great Spirit, 'Twas thought that once upon Coyote's rambles Lured by the magic dance of lovely maids. He fell their prey and lost his life thereby. His restoration by his cousin Fox Ye, then, shall witness, and the sudden birth Of the sweet name, Missoula, loved by all. And, O, ye people, list again For ye are still to see The Selish quest for Truth's clear ray. Their disappointments keen, Their final satisfaction found In worship of the White Man's God. And yet, the image of that God So faintly does he see. So far the way to final Truth — So Faltering the tread Of Indian, or his Brother, white. That, on together, must they go. Far, far beyond the farthest hill Till Truth at last be found. To Father DeSmet, the language of Tertulian may be applied: "They are brave old men, but at the same time they have the grace and simplicity of youth. The purity of their lives and the cleanliness and uprightness of their souls enable them to preserve to the close of their lives, the springtime freshness of their earlier years." tECi)e itlasiQue Coyote enters singing — I go, I go! Merrily, merrily go! Over the mountains and under the sky. Up to the peaks of snow! In his haste, he accidentally steps on a lark, and injures her fragile leg. She rebukes him for his heedlessness. Lark. O Coyote, hasty, cruel! Can you never see anything but mountain tops? Now you've hurt me so that I shall never sing again! And 1 had something to tell you! But Lark shall never tell you now! O, my leg! My leg! Cries with pain. (The cry used with these last words was the cry taken directly from the singing of an old chief of the Selish in his recital of the legend). Coyote. There, Little Lark. I'm sorry I hurt you, you know, but I was look- ing up over those hills. Perhaps you didn't know that I'm a wizMd — and a touch — and, there — you're well again! Lark. Am I really well again. Coyote? I'll try to step. Why, yes! You've made me well! I'll thank you by telling you something fine. Over the mountains you go? Coyote. Yes, over the peaks of snow! Lark. Coyote, you will see there, beautiful country, beautiful canyons, beau- tiful water. And Coyote, you will see there — beautiful maidens! Footnote: This entire first legend of Coyote was related by Duncan McDonald, the most illustrious member of the present Selish tribe. Coyote. Yes, Lark, beautiful maidens! Well, what of it? Lark. But the maidens are beautiful. Coyote ! Coyote. O, I can endure much beauty. Little Lark! Even maidenly beauty! Now, sing me farewell, I'm off! Coyote (goes, singing again his song). I go, I go ! Merrily, merrily go ! Over the mountains, under the sky, Up to the peaks of snow! He reaches a bewitching valley, whose winsome face smiles up into the heart of the sky. In the valley, near a charming little stream, is dancing a group of lithe and lovely maidens. As they see Coyote, they begin a song of enchantment. Song of the Maidens. Ah, Coyote, Come to us. Coyote! Nootnote: (This little fragment, too, is taken from the Selish Song of the Maidens. The English translation, though inadequate, is as nearly literal cis possible). With sinuous grace they wind in and out, weaving in the rhythm of their alluring limbs, a charm that cannot be resisted. Coyote, gazing upon them with ardent eyes, can resist the spell no longer. Slowly he moves toward their circle, his eyes never leaving their movemetns. Slowly their arms twine about him, and he is soon fast in their power. Gently, with serpent-like tread, they force him into the water. There, rapidly drowning, he realizes, too late, his danger. The waters close over his head. Coyote is gone forever. But suddenly, out of a thicket, his sly cousin, Fox, leaps to save him. Grasping the dead Coyote, he leans over him, whispering enchantment. Slowly Coyote, with a gasp, returns to the living. Fox. Ah, Coyote, you sleep too long! Why did you sleep? That dance of the maids in a dance of death. TTiey lured you, foolish creature! Coyote. Yes, I know, Cousin Fox, of my danger. Yet I tell you, I could'nt resist them! I was mad, mad, mad for their kisses! But I was a fool, yes, I know it. Thank you. Old Red Tail, for life! Fox. I'm always helping you out of some trouble. But — look you! Keep away from those women! Coyote. No need to warn me. Fox! But now, their lives shall pay for those kisses. Their breath shall be bubbles on water! The Fox slowly departs. Coyote leans against a tree, watchnig the maidens as they again begin their alluring measures. With outstretched arms they endeavor to beguile their former victim. Again they repeat their haunting melody: Ah, Coyote, Come to us. Coyote! As though entranced. Coyote yields to their enticements and slowly, as before, approaches their magic circle. But suddenly as he nears them, he surrounds them with magic fire. The Fire Spirits dance out, fiendishly devouring the seductive damsels. Coyote, in delight at the fulfillment of vengeance, upgathers their ashes, cautious lest any escape him. The handful of ashes he flings into the limpid waters of the creek. Gazing dov\Ti upon them, he sees them suddenly gleam vsath a rare and exquisite lustre. In rapture at their strange and shinning and sudden beauty, he exclaims: Coyote. Missouletech ! (In the shining river). The Chorus of Maidens reappears, chanting. Thus did the name Missoula come, A name enchanting fair — Think of us, oft, ye city folk — For 'tis our name ye bear! During the manifestation of the magical powers of Coyote, an Indian has been gazing in wonderment from behind a tree. As Coyote turns from his rapt contemplation of the shells, he cames face to face with the awe-stricken Red-face. The Indian falls on his knees, striking his fore- head on the ground. Coyote. Red-face, What yould you? Indian (startled and bewildered). I — saw! Now — I worship! Coyote. Worship then. Red-face. What do you think me? Indian. I think you great Magic-Maker! Great Spirit! I follow! Coyote. As you will. As they proceed, the Indian catches a glimpse of something white through the trees. Indian. Coyote, Coyote! You saw? That — like snow blanket? Coyote. I saw nothing. Indian. Coyote, you — Great Spirit! You know all things. Tell me! Coyote. I saw nothing. I know not what it was! Indian (sadly). O Coyote, I want to know. That white — that may be something good for me. And you — Great Spirit — can't tell me! In his depression of spirit, the Indian kneels and implores the Clouds and the Thunder to help him. Indian. Coyote is not the Great Spirit! The truth he can't tell me. Speak to me, Clouds and Thunder! Tell me what the white was! The Clouds and Thunder dance in riot about him. Their heavy gray mantles envelope him. He grows more and more despirited. Indian. Speak, O Thunder, Great Thunder! My heart is heavy vnthin me ! The voice of Thunder comes from the clouds. Thunder. O Red-face, follow thou ever the flash of white! 'Tis a message! Chorus of Clouds. O Red-face — follow forever. The flash, the white gleam, forever! As the Clouds and Thunder disappear, the Indian looks up. Sud- denly he sees a gleam of white again, among the trees. A White Man appears. The Indian, overcome with emotion at this seemingly swift realization of his search, falls in devotion before him. White Man. Why, Red-face! What means this? Indian. You are the white gleam I seek! O White God, I find you. White Man. What do you mean? Quick, tell me! Indian (striving to clasp the knees of the white man). Coyote is not the Great Spirit! He does not know all that my heart asks! I ask Thunder to help me! Great Thunder speaks to me this way: "Follow forever the white gleam" — I look up, I see you — I wor- ship! White Man. But, Red-face, I'm not the Great Spirit! I'm not the white gleam you seek for! I'm but the White Man, your brother! But I know of the Great Spirit! The real God! — the true God is our God. Come, I will help you to find Him! The Indian rises, his face lit with joy. Indian. White Brother, I follow! You lead me I TTiey proceed hand in hand. At first they come upon a group of young men and women dancing. The Indian starts toward a pretty girl, white-gowned. Indian. There, there is the Great Spirit. Scarcely are the words out of his mouth than he sees the girl put her arms around the neck of a youth and whirl off with him. The Indian in great dejection, moans. Indian. O take me away! This is not the Great Spirit! She hugs a man I Ugh! That's not a Spirit! (This phrase expressing the Indian scorn for the whtie man's dance is taken verbatim from the story of the Selbh chief who contributed so much to the masterial for the masque). Going on still further they are met by a group of fur traders. They offer the Indian a drink. Here, have some spirits! Traders. Indian. Spirits, you say? Great Spirit? I take some quick. If it's Spirit! He quaffs from a flask which they offer. Suddenly overcome with the intoxicant, he reels and moans as he slobbers. Indian. No! No! That is not the Great Spirit! The Great Spirit would make my head clearer. O White Brother, show me the White God. This spirit, he makes me like big snake — combing the ground with my belly. They approach a group of white men, quarreling vociferously over some land. Indian. Why do you quarrel Brothers? Man. in Over some land, you poor Red-face! Indian. Your land? Why brothers, this is my land. These trees, all this sunshine, water and pastures — all mine! The Great Spirit gave it all to me! Man. O Rot! Damn it all, we'll settle that matter. Here, Judge, what say you to this? This red-skinned savage tells us we quarrel over his forests. Quick! Tell him who's boss around here! The Judge (a tall stately personage with white collar and waistcoat makes a profund impression on the innocent Red-skin. He, half-kneeling, calls loudly to the Judge). Indian. O Judge, my white brothers call on you. I know you are the Great Spirit. You make it right. This is my land. You gave it to me at Creation ! Judge. Ho! No, silly red-skin! And think you to outdo superior forces? Think you to hunt on forever when white men can make of your forests habitations and streets of great cities? This land is not yours any longer. Go, hunt further west in the ocean ! Indian. My land is not mine ! O false Spirit ! The Black One, are you ! The Great Spirit is kind, yes, and just. And you — you are more cruel thsui Whirlwind or Famine or Pagwah ! You make my blood swift and angry. You make my heart strong for battle; you make me kill for my forests. Black One, I hate you forever! In the midst of his wild frenzy, a priest approaches him kindly. Priest. My brother, why rave you so madly? Knowest thou not how it grieves the Great Heart of the White G«d to see thee so vengeful and angry? The low calm tone of his voice soothes the turbulent spirit of the In- dian. He falls half kneeling and clutches the robe of the priest Indian. Are you — are you the Great Spirit? Tell me, quick, for I seek him, ever. Priest. No, brother newly found! You mistake me. I'm not the Great Spirit you seek for, but I can tell you about Him, for I am a messenger from Him. He sent me to tell you He loves you. Indian (kissing his robe). O Black Robe, I tremble to hear it. You say the Great Spirit loves me? Priest. Yes, I tell you again so. He loves you and wants you to love him; to live in peace with all people, with all of your tribes, all the white men; to drive from your heart all the ugly, the hateful and vicious; to live as he bids you, in kindness. Here is another White Brother who comes to help you in his way. Ai Indian Agent approaches and speaks to the faltering Redskin. Yes, I too, will help you, my Brother. I will teach you how to build your houses, to till fields, to harness all forces of Nature, to live like your brothers, the White Men. Indian (in the deep-felt gratitude of his simple heart). At last I see you. Great White God. I see you. Your heart is re- flected in these men, my Brothers. Great Spirit, Great Spirit, I worship. As he speaks there is a sudden flash of light, the Indian is left alone, stunned with the vision. As he gazes around, amazedly, he sees Coyote before him. Indian. Coyote, Coyote, I've found Him! I've found, at last, the Great Spirit ! Coyote. You think me not the Great Spirit? Yet once did you worship full gladly. I'll call on the creatures of my kingdom! They will prove me Master among them. Come, Birds. Come Beasts. Come Insects. Come all, to Coyote, your Master. First come Eagle, Hawk, Bluebird, Lark, Raven, Robin. Then ar- rive Bear, Wolf, Fox, Porcupine, Rabbit, Squirrel, Beaver, Mouse, Buf- falo, Deer. Then Beetle, Woodtick, Ant, Grasshopper, Toad, Frog. As they all assemble before him, he questions them. Coyote. Birds, Beasts, Insects. All ye who live in my kingdom, I ask ye this day to declare who is King and Master among you. Speak, for the Red- skin doth listen. The birds and beasts seem reluctant. Little Woodtick shuffles his feet. The Bear growls and talks to his neighbor in an undertone. Coyote. Here, stop that talking among you! Speeik out! Little Woodtick, what ails you? Why don't you tell us the truth? Wood-Tick. Please, Coyote, I'm sorry. I like you. You know we all love Coyote. But there is but one King — you know Him, and He is the Great Spirit. Chorus (all). Yes, He is the Great Spirit ! Coyote, with head hanging lower and lower, and with heavily droop- ing spirits, falls back to his place among the animals. As they draw into the background, the tall splendid figure of the White Brother comes swiftly forward. Taking the hand of the Indian, he points upward to a hilltop. There, suddenly, in a radiance, celestial, supernal, appears a figure clad in garments of shining white. The White Man and Indian fall upon their knees together. Then slowly rising, the White Man speaks. Brother, let us follow! Onward and upward, together! Chorus of heavenly voices. O mortals come. Worship the Truth, Follow the gleam. White be your hands. White be your hearts. White be your dream. -•f^/y'-: f^'i^ k v^ [' "1 i^^fl t^^ "#,^t^: '/ . ?p*' -^^r^