could speak.
“When the Creator made the world, he showed People food for every season. The sweet sap inside poplar bark in spring. Turnip roots to cook insummer. Prairie-rose hips for chewing after their sweet petals fall. And berries, from early summer to late fall, buffalo beans, strawberries, blueberries, saskatoons, choke, and pincherries—that was very good. But the Creator knew winter snow was coming, and People would starve unless they had meat.
“So, hidden deep under water in the ground, the Creator made herds of buffalo. He said to them, ‘People living on earth are hungry. If you are kind and give them your meat to eat, I promise that you will always have many strong calves.’
“And the buffalo cried, ‘Oh, yes, yes!’ and they began to run, charging upward to the light and air. It was here by this lake they came up for us, bursting out of the ground from under the water. And the sound of their coming was like the mighty thunder of Thunderbird, rolling. That is why we call this water Sounding Lake.”
And next morning there were tracks in the snow past their lodge. No one had heard a sound, not a dog had barked nor a horse whinnied, but the huge tracks with their five great claws came up from the ice of the lake and went south over the hills in the rising light. Bear had visited them, but had not stopped.
As they travelled south along Sounding Creek, Big Bear sensed he should vow to give a Thirst Dance, asking for guidance. The Queen’s commissioners were coming to talk treaty, and he had heard that so far all five treaties said exactly the same things. Was it possible to live with such agreements into a better future than these relentless cycles of disease and hunger and suffering and endless desperation about buffalo? Every spring there were fewer little calves on the prairie bunting their gaunt mothers. The great bulls wandered alone, as if longing to hide in some crevice where there were no bone piles to stumble over, no horned skulls with ridged eye-holes staring at them. Bear, can I dare to make the most difficult prayer for guidance? Will you help my People help me fulfill it?
Once before, after he was asked to become chief, the Cree People had gathered to his vow. But now, after such a hard winter, could he ask Sweetgrass and Little Pine and the other bands to join him for this communal prayer? Would the Creator grant enough buffalo for them to live together and pray and dance and sing and tell stories and give gifts so they could be truly happy? Happy as all People are, at every Thirst Dance, when at last the Thunderbird honours your fasting, thirsting days of prayer with the blessing of rain? And then a magnificent feast, food enough for everyone?There were great trees along the rivers at The Forks, strong enough for a centre pole for the largest Thirst Dance Lodge, there were more than enough buffalo skulls for ceremony and cloths for offerings … but do I have the strength to be guided. Do I dare? Bear?
On the fourth day they saw Bull’s Forehead Hill rising white over The Forks, and they came down into the circle of home to cries of welcome and singing. Several days later a family arrived from the west and told them of McDougall’s death. Then a Young Man came from Little Pine’s band, wintering in the Hand Hills. He told them Crozier had gone crazy while giving them his message; they had to tie him down or he would walk into the night wearing only underwear, barefoot in the snow. Police Boss Macleod had ordered eight police to bring him to Fort Macleod.
Messengers. Crozier walking naked into night snow, but not freezing on the prairie like McDougall. Perhaps the Queen’s police had more power than a missionary. There were certainly many more of them, in every Company post, and even more in the far south where the Blackfoot had always burned everything White. But Red Cloud, senior chief of the Blood, had given Macleod permission to build his headquarters on an island in the Oldman
“When the Creator made the world, he showed People food for every season. The sweet sap inside poplar bark in spring. Turnip roots to cook insummer. Prairie-rose hips for chewing after their sweet petals fall. And berries, from early summer to late fall, buffalo beans, strawberries, blueberries, saskatoons, choke, and pincherries—that was very good. But the Creator knew winter snow was coming, and People would starve unless they had meat.
“So, hidden deep under water in the ground, the Creator made herds of buffalo. He said to them, ‘People living on earth are hungry. If you are kind and give them your meat to eat, I promise that you will always have many strong calves.’
“And the buffalo cried, ‘Oh, yes, yes!’ and they began to run, charging upward to the light and air. It was here by this lake they came up for us, bursting out of the ground from under the water. And the sound of their coming was like the mighty thunder of Thunderbird, rolling. That is why we call this water Sounding Lake.”
And next morning there were tracks in the snow past their lodge. No one had heard a sound, not a dog had barked nor a horse whinnied, but the huge tracks with their five great claws came up from the ice of the lake and went south over the hills in the rising light. Bear had visited them, but had not stopped.
As they travelled south along Sounding Creek, Big Bear sensed he should vow to give a Thirst Dance, asking for guidance. The Queen’s commissioners were coming to talk treaty, and he had heard that so far all five treaties said exactly the same things. Was it possible to live with such agreements into a better future than these relentless cycles of disease and hunger and suffering and endless desperation about buffalo? Every spring there were fewer little calves on the prairie bunting their gaunt mothers. The great bulls wandered alone, as if longing to hide in some crevice where there were no bone piles to stumble over, no horned skulls with ridged eye-holes staring at them. Bear, can I dare to make the most difficult prayer for guidance? Will you help my People help me fulfill it?
Once before, after he was asked to become chief, the Cree People had gathered to his vow. But now, after such a hard winter, could he ask Sweetgrass and Little Pine and the other bands to join him for this communal prayer? Would the Creator grant enough buffalo for them to live together and pray and dance and sing and tell stories and give gifts so they could be truly happy? Happy as all People are, at every Thirst Dance, when at last the Thunderbird honours your fasting, thirsting days of prayer with the blessing of rain? And then a magnificent feast, food enough for everyone?There were great trees along the rivers at The Forks, strong enough for a centre pole for the largest Thirst Dance Lodge, there were more than enough buffalo skulls for ceremony and cloths for offerings … but do I have the strength to be guided. Do I dare? Bear?
On the fourth day they saw Bull’s Forehead Hill rising white over The Forks, and they came down into the circle of home to cries of welcome and singing. Several days later a family arrived from the west and told them of McDougall’s death. Then a Young Man came from Little Pine’s band, wintering in the Hand Hills. He told them Crozier had gone crazy while giving them his message; they had to tie him down or he would walk into the night wearing only underwear, barefoot in the snow. Police Boss Macleod had ordered eight police to bring him to Fort Macleod.
Messengers. Crozier walking naked into night snow, but not freezing on the prairie like McDougall. Perhaps the Queen’s police had more power than a missionary. There were certainly many more of them, in every Company post, and even more in the far south where the Blackfoot had always burned everything White. But Red Cloud, senior chief of the Blood, had given Macleod permission to build his headquarters on an island in the Oldman
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