LEGEND OF THE CHIPMUNK

Mission Church on Umatilla Indian Reservation

This story was published in an undated ‘The Indian Sentinel’ by the Society for Preservation of the Faith among Indian Children, Bureau of Catholic Missions.  Sounds like Tatathlíiya, the basket woman, who captured children to feed her own brood. 

‘Long years ago, runs one of the old legends of the Umatilla Indians, there dwelt at the mouth of the Umatilla River an Indian woman who had but one child, a boy of the age of seven.  The boy was bright and full of fun and the spirit of adventure but he was much inclined to disobey his mother in matters which seemed to him of no special importance.  The foolish boy thought he knew better than his mother what he should do and should not do.

One day the mother heard there was a sorceress in the woods back of the tepee, a witch doctor who could do anything she wished with people in her power.  Therefore, she told her son to remain within the tepee until the witch had gone away.

The boy, who was called Cherr-l-l-e-e, said, “All right, Mother,” and then slipped out the back door, thinking he would go to the woods, see the witch and return in safety.  There is where he made a mistake.  He had scarcely reached the woods before he saw a dreadful figure with disheveled hair, long sharp claws and malign aspect peering through the brush as if in search of someone.

The boy was badly frightened and at once took to his heels.  The witch gave chase.  In a moment her hot breath was on the boy’s neck and he felt that all was lost.  Still he strove with all his might to get beyond her clutches and at last managed to get beyond her reach by climbing a pine tree.

Once in the treetop he felt secure and glanced down at the witch.  She was standing at the foot of the tree gnashing her teeth and vainly trying to ascend.  Then the boy thought he would have some fun, so he plucked a huge pine cone and threw it at the old hag, striking her on the head.  Again and again he hit her, laughing with glee at his success, but the witch still remained at the foot of the tree.

Then the lad threw a cone far out into the brush, the witch gave chase and while she was gone, he slid down the tree and within a few minutes was safe in his mother’s tepee.  He thought he was safe but circumstances proved otherwise.  Scarcely had he arrived in the tepee when the witch reached it also, wild with anger.  His mother, in alarm, hid him in a corner and covered his head with a buffalo horn spoon. 

The witch came in and demanded the boy.  She was told that he had not come home.  Then the witch searched the tepee and eventually finding the boy, seized him.  As the boy tried to squirm out of her grasp, she caught him with all her claws by the forehead and left the marks of her talons on his face and body.  Then she changed him from a boy to an animal which she called the chipmunk.  And that is why that cheerful little animal frequents the pine trees and wears stripes.’

Way down at the ‘mouth of the Umatilla River’, there were once chipmunks and pine trees?  There were plenty of boys like that at the St. Andrew’s Mission back in the 20^th century when it was still a school.  They were quite a spirited bunch who could withstand talons and malign aspects.

BEWARE OF LOVE

Frog in the Moon

At Tamástslikt’s first community academy last Saturday, February 11, John Bevis told why Indian people see a frog in the moon rather than the man-in-the-moon.  He told how a certain frog fell in love with Coyote’s seventh wife.  The frog was shown how to use a certain smoke that he whisked under her tipi flap to cause her to fall in love with him.  That was quite a feat because how does one target smoke at the right wife.  Finally she noticed him. “You’re so ugly, you’re kinda cute,” she said. He courted her and urged her to run away with him.  “But that might be wrong,” said she.  Nevertheless, away they went.  When Coyote found out, he caught up to them.  He’d catch the frog in his jaws and toss him up in the air repeatedly until bumps started appearing all over frog’s back.  The moon saw how Frog was being attacked without mercy and said, “come up here,” so frog jumped into the moon where he is today.  You woulda had to be there.  Next time there’s a full moon, look for the frog.

I had heard a different story about why there’s a frog in the moon.  This time it was the Frog Maiden who was not very well socialized shall we say.  She was what is called ‘láwyi’—any ole way.  She was incredibly boy-crazy and didn’t know how to act.  When two very handsome young men appeared, she threw herself at the first one.  He simply couldn’t peel her off his person.  He told his brother, “I had wanted to become the sun, but now I’m in this predicament, so you be the sun, and I’ll be the moon, so I don’t show my face as often.”  Úuya yuuts, poor guy.  One never knows the day nor the hour when a frog will jump in your eye and ruin your life. 

Thomas Morning Owl once told a story about Coyote marrying his own daughters.  Through trickery, he married them.  They didn’t know he was their dad because he was in disguise as a handsome man.  He used his magical powers to make himself appear as a great hunter.  He was secretly transforming field mice into deer and elk that the family lived on.  He knew his magic would stay as long as he did not eat his own kill.  He got so starving, he couldn’t stand it a minute longer and ate ravenously of the food his wives prepared.  Instantly, everything turned back into mouse.  His wives/daughters were wearing beautiful buckskin dresses they had made from his hunting.  Something horrible happened to them as their dresses buckled and shrank.  Once again somebody else pays for Coyote’s treachery.  Hope those guys don’t mind my synopsizing their stories that are so much better to hear in person.  These are not stories from a book.

These are stories for Valentine’s day.  Watch out and be judicious, young ones.

SEASONAL WONDERINGS

Tamastslikt Heritage Corridor Map

It was around January 7, 2012, when Cass commented :    “I visited the museum years ago and sadly can’t find any of my journals or work from that period. I often think back to my time spent there. I am curious if I can find out the Tamastslikt words for ‘we were, we are, we will be’.”  To try to answer your question, Cass, the Tamástslikt text panels  were each translated in one of the three dialects of the Umatilla Indian Reservation.  ‘We were’ is in Numíiputimt (Nez Perce):  Nuun Pewéeke.   ‘ee’ is that broad ‘a’ like ‘cat.’  ‘We are’ is ‘ána ku’úsh wa chikúuk, ‘as we are today.’  ‘We will be’ is ‘ku’úshtash wáta.’  It’s awkward to try to translate straight across from English idioms into the native dialects, because basically it doesn’t translate, but somebody gave it a try. 

 On these cold blustery days, we think of the ancestors out on the windy steppes on horseback without provisions or refuge.  It was January 1848 when conflicts and skirmishes were erupting on the Plateau– in Deschutes country, Willow Springs, Well Springs, and up at Touchet—when Indians were widely fearful of losing their country.    Not the most auspicious time of year to have a war.

J.W. Nesmith was the colonel of the Oregon Volunteer Militia that lit out of Willamette Valley in the winter of 1847-48 after the Cayuse Indians in retribution for the Whitman Mission killings.  Here’s a story called, One on Colonel Nesmith: 

About the only person who ever got the best of Colonel Nesmith was a Cayuse Indian named “Sticcus.”  The colonel was very fond of elk meat, a dish which was not often to be had, even in pioneer times, and, with a prospect of securing a good meal of this savory flesh, he was, during a trip to eastern Oregon, constrained to accept of an invitation given by the Indian to dine with him.  As his dusky friend could not speak “Boston,” and “Chinook” was equally Greek to him, the conversation had to be carried on by pantomime.  The Indians’ spreading of fingers convinced the colonel that he meant elk antlers, and that the dinner was to be elk meat, so he prepared himself for and did eat at the meal to his utmost capacity; but imagine his chagrin when he found outside the camp the ears, tail and hoofs of a mule, instead of some evidences left of the noble animal he supposed he had dined upon.  Long afterwards the colonel smiled when any like signs were made, but it was years before he told the joke the Indian had unwittingly played upon him. –Oregon Native Son and historical magazine, Vol 1, by Native Sons of Oregon, Oregon Pioneer association, Indian War Veterans and Historical society undated ebook.

Does the story ring true?  Indians would feel slightly revulsed when Lewis & Clark and their ilk would eat horses and dogs, so it’s rather hard to imagine that Indians wouldn’t eat horses but they would eat mule meat.  It seems like mule meat would taste a whole lot different from elk meat.  “Sticcus” was the Cayuse headman, Istíkats, ancestor of many folks on the Umatilla Indian Reservation.  When the Oregon volunteer militia came to the Walla Walla Valley in 1847 to exact justice for the Whitmans, they were somewhat indiscriminate in distinguishing enemies from friends.   Istíkats prudently moved to the mountains until the militia’s tour was done.  But he also did his best to be an intermediary between the Cayuse and the Oregon militia.  He had been a friend to Marcus Whitman and went so far as to warn the good doctor to get out while the getting was good.

COMMUNITY ACADEMY COMING UP

The late Theresa Eagle

A couple of years ago, Tamástslikt held several free evening sessions of Mend, Measure, and Repair to help folks prepare for the centennial Pendleton Round-Up.  Evenings were dedicated to horse trappings, regalia, featherwork, or horse tack.  Some consulting experts were Woodrow Star, Fred Hill, Thomas Morning Owl, Maynard Lavadour, Katy Blackwolf, John Bevis, Richard Sams Sr. & Jr., Robin Severe, and others.  Some antique treasures from the vault were on display, so people could view the old constructions and patterns. 

While attendance seldom hit two digits, one outcome was born out of the experiment—Indian taco buffet, which has become a regular Tamástslikt feature. 

Another experiment is in the making—Community Academy.  While our local community is always welcome to attend Tamástslikt events—film showings, lectures, book signings, etc., Tamástslikt wants to offer some interactive or hands-on events that will help keep alive certain skills and abilities, the knowledge that makes us who we are– such as storytelling, weaving, etc.    

Community Academy will kick off Saturday, February 11, from 10am to noon with Storytelling open mic.  We’ll invite local storytellers to shine a light for storytelling, and any novice storyteller is welcome to try out the audience.  Hopefully there will be an audience, because we’ll have delicious refreshments. 

Every 3-4 months, there will be another Community Academy, and your suggestions for topics do count.  On July 25, there will be an evening Behind-the-Scenes Basketry Tour by Collections Curator, Randall Melton.  Basketweavers and weaving aficionados are welcome to come look at some of the old bags and baskets that are not on display.

HEROIC AT 80

Ethel "Tessie" Williams

Tessie Williams, Tribal Lifeways Demonstrator, Elder Docent, turned 80 on December 14^th.  She has long been a leader and representative  of culture and tradition for Tamástslikt and the Tribes.  She was one of the original tribal employees at the dawn of tribal sovereignty in the 1960’s.  She and her colleague, Elizabeth ‘Smitty’ Jones, were the first Community Health Representatives of the Umatilla Indian Reservation.  They were among the very first Indian women to take paying jobs outside the home.  Because of the dire straits of tribal economies in those days, eminent tribal women were selected for those very entry-level jobs that grew to be community developers, “health-raisers,” and uppity women.  Their boss, Bruce Campbell, asked them what kind of training they wanted, and they asked for a class in public speaking.  Míshitakway—forevermore, they became spokespersons for their patients, advocates for the people.  It was quite a radical concept that Indians would navigate the health care system for other Indians.  They built relationships throughout the community and erased obstacles to care for their patients.  Tessie became a trainer herself, instructing newly hired  Community Health Representatives from all over the nation at the Tucson-area training facility.

Today Mrs. Williams still has passion and compassion, but she has simmered down.  She has shared many traditional stories at Tamástslikt.  She still makes appearances to talk to children about the rites of passage and the traditional foods.  She has always had concern for the young and tells them “Kwálisimnam naknuwi tanam imíim wáwnakshash,” always take care of your body.

NATURE OF THE ENEMY

Woodrow Star

Woodrow Star, Cayuse-Nez Perce of Arickara extraction, son of Theresa Mae Eagle, served in Vietnam in the  Military Police.  When he arrived at his station, they found a used helmet for him with a faded ‘MP’ imprint, barely visible.  He was sitting in the jeep waiting for the driver when a non-comm approached and started talking pidgeon English at him.  “Remember last time you here? Remember the mirror? It’s gone.  Since you here last, the mirror went missing.  You know anything about that?”  Woodrow stood up beside the jeep towering over the guy and read him the riot act and chased him back inside the building.  He was a little tickled that the guy was an E-5, very much his senior.  Woodrow perfected his cop persona, raging at full force.  He’s the only guy who sounds all wholesome whilst cussing up a storm.  Yet beneath his fiercesome facade, his demeanor is totally calm.   He’s maintained his health by acting the part of a Type A throughout his long cop career.  Nothing bothers him.

Mr. Star said that the outfit he had been mistaken for– the allied ARVN (Army of the Republic of Vietnam)– was always messing with them.  The ARVNs would act deferential, but they were in the habit of pointing their weapons at the American GI’s.  Woodrow said he would get behind cover and point his weapon right back.  Then the ARVNs would laugh and act like it was a joke, but the Americans could never be sure.

FAITHFUL TO THEIR TRIBE & FRIENDS

Fur Trappers Fort Walla Walla by Joseph Drayton, 1841, courtesy Oregon Historical

What did 19^th century fur traders think and say about our old-time Indians?   Back in the days of the Fort Nez Percés-Fort Walla Walla, Hudson’s Bay Company was collecting questionnaires from their chief factor stationed across the river from the mouth of the Walla Walla River.  The factors’ ‘natural history’ reports were sent to London.  There during World War II the records were sheltered from damage in wine cellars. 

In 2000 the University of Idaho Library published a transcript of Hudson Bay materials by Samuel Black, the factor who documented some words of the now-extinct Cayuse language.  This was information that was formerly accessible only to scholars.  Apparently there were some hanging-around-the-fort Indians:

“There is a considerable number of Indians resident here, Kayouse’s and a collateral band of the same tribe, called Walla-wallas. They live along the bank of the river, in shantys or wigwams of draft wood, covered with buffalo or deer skins.  They are a miserable, squalid looking people, are constantly lolling round and in the Fort, and annoy visitors by the importunate manner in which they endeavor to force them into some petty trade for a pipe, a hare, or a grouse. All the industrious and enterprising men of this tribe are away trading salmon, Kamas root, &c., to the mountain companies.

Notwithstanding the truly wretched plight in which these poor people live, and the privations which they must necessarily have to suffer, they are said to be remarkably honest and upright in their dealing and generally correct in their moral deportment.  Although they doubtless have the acquisitive qualities so characteristic of their race they are rarely known to violate the principles of common honesty.  A man may leave his tent unguarded and richly stored with everything which ordinarily excites the cupidity of the Indian, yet, on returning after a long absence, he may find all safe. What a contrast is this to the habits and conduct of our Christian communities!”—John Kirk Townsend, botanist, passing through the Fort Walla Walla country, 1839.

It could be the principles of tamánwit were operating no matter how impoverished the people became.  Then what about domestic violence?

Hudson Bay asked:  Are women well or ill treated by their husbands? Are they employed solely in household and culinary work or do they engage in hunting and fishing with the rest of their family or what are the usual occupations of the females?

“The Indian Women are very well treated by their Husbands who are often very forebearing except in a Case of infidelity when they often punish brutally inflicting Wounds & often death, the latter however must be in agrevated Cases but for all faults when they do punish its always brutally.  The Women do all the work about the Tent &c as in other parts of the Country but their great & principal Employment is diging Roots & geathering Berries to make all the family live.  Its the Women that often make the Men live, this is a very laborious Employment which lasts long all Summer by intervals yet they are not able to procure a sufficiency eating so Many—The Women never engage in Fishing or hunting or do the Men ever dig a Root for general use.”—Samuel Black

What about suicide?  Hudson’s Bay posed the question:  Do many die during the course of the year—either by natural or accidental death, murder or suicide?  And can you state the proportion out of a hundred that die annually?

“In the Course of one year few die of a Natural Death, some by Accident, some by Murder suicide & their attempts at it is pretty Common amongst both Sexes young & Old from Wounded feelings Contradiction in some favorite Point &c. None by War at present being at peace with their Enemies the Snake Indians; never many I believe were killed in War Business.”–Samuel Black

Then Black would record “Willa Walla” for ‘good’ for instance, “Shiech”, Nez Perces “Taats”, and Cayouse “eswaya [or] Schwayia”.  He recorded ‘water’ as Willa Walla “choos”, Nez Perces “Koush” and Cayuse “Eskanch [or] Eskance”.  This is an interesting little booklet, “faithful to their Tribe & friends” Samuel Black’s 1829 Fort Nez Perces Report, edited with an introduction by Dennis W. Baird. The front desk at Tamástslikt has a copy, as does the research library.

Old Fort Walla-Walla, Oregon Historical Society