NARRATIVES OF SASKATOON

1882-1912

Genealogy, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada, Pioneer,Saskatchewan history, Temperance Colony, Temperance Colonization Society, Pioneers,John N. Lake, John Lake, Saskatoon history, Saskatoon Gen Web, Genealogy, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada, Pioneer,Saskatchewan history, Temperance Colony, Temperance Colonization Society, Saskatoon history, Saskatoon Gen Web

would help himself to meat. He had many interesting stories to tell of fights with Indians and running buffalo. The following is one of his stories:- During the first snowfall a party of them were running buffalo on the flats where Saskatoon now stands.* He had shot a buffalo and, getting off his horse straddled the buffalo intending to cut its throat. The buffalo rose to its feet and started with him on its back or neck. He soon fell off, however, and the buffalo went a short distance and fell again. He then finished him and he had had a ride on a wild buffalo. I had noticed that many of the older men had the trigger finger missing. He said it was caused by the bursting of the old muzzle loader when running buffalo. No time was spent in re-loading as it was all done on horseback, at the gallop. They would ride close to a buffalo and shoot, then pour some powder in the barrel by guess, spit a ball, of which they had one or two in their mouth, into the gun, give the barrel a slap with their hand, ride up close to another buffalo and shoot. Sometimes the bullet had only gone a short distance down the barrel, then likely the gun burst and the hunter was short a trigger finger at least. A few stories in connection with the Indians. Here is one told to me by an Indian himself. He sighted a cinnamon bear. Carefully divesting himself of every speck of clothing, he crawled and wriggled until he felt sure that he was close enough to make a sure shot, then fired, jumped to his feet and ran until he was sure nothing was chasing him, then carefully sneaked back again until he located his bear. Much to his relief it was dead. A black bear they do not fear. In '92 I had an Indian, one Charlie Eagle, working for me. He was well educated, having been through college at Brandon and sent back to the Reserve among his people where his education was of no use. I had the skull of an Indian which I had dug up at a bluff near Pike Lake. It was in a fine state of preservation One day he noticed the skull and asked me what it was. Of course I told him. After that, when he had finished his dinner, he would sit down in front of the skull and look at it. Various emotions would show at times on his face, and sometimes he would laugh right out. Though I often tried, I could never induce him to tell me what his thoughts were while watching the skull. He never seemed to tire and showed as much interest in the skull right through as he had the first day. Harry Goodwin had a false tooth in front, which he could, by working it with his tongue, shoot outside his lips. Until the Indians, especially the squaws, got used to him, this tooth was a source of wonder. I think they looked on him as some sort of an evil spirit, for while he would be talking to them he would suddenly shoot out this tooth, and it was strange to see the look of awe or almost fear that would come over their faces. The Colony Company had brought up some tubs of butter to Saskatoon in the early summer of '83. This had all gone properly rancid by winter, and W. Horn and myself fell heir to it. One day an Indian came along and started to talk. We invited him to eat, and gave him a piece of bread and a fair sized piece of the butter. He seemed to 'eat it with a relish, and on our enquiry he pronounced it "wash-te" (meaning good). I have seen an Indian come in, sit down and proceed to eat small pieces of bread, large pieces of butter, get up and go out and vomit, come in, sit down and eat again, and then proceed to trade for furs. One day, while out hunting, upon reaching the top of a knoll, at a 1ong distance I could discern something large, slowly making its way through the tall grass round a large slough. It was not stock of any kind, being too close to the ground, and the only thing it at all resembled was a bear. I could not place it for anything else, and raised the rifle, still wondering if I should shoot, when up sprang an Indian entirely naked. He had been keeping his eye on me and felt like taking no chances when he saw the rifle come up. He started waving his arms so that I would not (1) Andy, the half-breed ferryman, had his house near where the brewery now stands in Idylwyld. The flats are across the river from this. Page 43

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