UP-SAH-RO-KU

The Crows, The Great Crow Country and the Old Chief’s Interesting Story of His People

 

 (Originally published in the Hysham Echo

February 11, 1926 by Dan R. Conway and again Nov. 25, 2013)

To me there is nothing which holds quite so strong an appeal - nothing so vividly expressive of Nature in all Her fullness - nothing so romantic as the picture which focuses in a rough circle of once-shaped dwellings that touches some river bank in the heart of a wilderness as yet untouched by the harsh hand of a white man’s civilization.
In 1921, it was my good fortune to be in the land of the Crows upon the occasion of the forty-fifth anniversary of the Battle of the Little Big Horn. It was a momentous occasion and great numbers of people representative of two separate and distinct races had gathered together to reenact an event in this day regretted by both of these peoples.
As I walked down the road that leads south from the city of Hardin, and after I had crossed the bridge which spans that deceiving river, (which ordinarily was the size of a large creek, but which is capable of performing the antics of a mighty torrent) I found myself in the midst of a land transformed.
Here, up and down the valley of that little stream, and for miles north and south of the village of Crow Agency stood the camps of these descendants of the aborigines of the Great Northwest. It was an impressive scene, and as I paused to catch the full significance of such a panorama, there arose a vision of the home of the Crows in the days when Montana knew no Indian “reservations” - when all of southern Montana was the Crow country.
So far as we are able to learn, the Crow country at the time of the first visits of the white traders to the camps of these nomads, was that region bounded on the east by the Black Hills, on the west by the Rockies and including a part of these lofty ranges; on the south by the Big Horn Mountains and on the north by the Yellowstone river. This territory in its natural state was one of varied climate and soil conditions, embracing many of the plains and valleys watered by the Wind river, the Yellowstone, the Powder river, the Little Missouri and the Nebraska. It was picturesque - beautiful to behold - and possessed a combination of natural qualities which rendered it one of the choice sections of the Northwest. The Crows appreciated this and were proud of their home.

The Good Crow Country

This is attested most emphatically in the words of Chief Arapooash, as set forth by Washington Irving in his “Adventures of Captain Bonneville.”
These are the words of this aged Crow Chief to Robert Campbell of the Rocky Mountain Fur company:
“The Crow country is a good country. The Great Spirit has put it exactly in the right place; while you are in it you fare well; whenever you go out of it, whichever way you travel, you fare worse.
“If you go to the south you have to wander over great barren plains; the water is warm and bad, and you meet with fever and ague.
“To the north it is cold; the winters are long and bitter, with no grass; you cannot keep horses there, but must travel with dogs. What is a country without horses?
“On the Columbia, they are poor and dirty, paddle about in canoes and eat fish. Their teeth are worn out; they are always taking fish bones out of their mouths. Fish is poor food.
“To the east, they dwell in villages. They live well, but they drink the muddy waters of the Missouri - that is bad. A Crow’s dog would not drink such water.
“About the Forks of the Missouri is a fine country; good water; good grass; plenty of buffalo. In summer, it is almost as good as the Crow country; but in winter it is cold; the grass is gone and there is no salt weed for the horses.
“The Crow country is exactly in the right place. It has snowy mountains and sunny plains; all kinds of climates and good things for every season. When the summer heats scorch the prairies, you can draw up under the mountains, where the air is sweet and cool, the grass fresh and the bright streams come tumbling out of the snow-banks. There you can hunt the elk, the deer and the antelope, when their skins are fit for dressing; there you will find plenty of bears and mountain sheep.
“In the autumn when your horses are fat and strong from the mountain pastures you can go down into the plains and hunt the buffalo, or trap beaver on the streams. And, when winter comes on you can take shelter in the woody bottoms along the rivers; there you will find buffalo meat for yourselves, and cottonwood bark for your horses; or you may winter in the Wind River valley, where there is salt weed in abundance.
“The Crow country is exactly in the right place. Everything good is to be found there. There is no country like the Crow country.”
Such is the eulogium on his country by Arapooash.
The origin of the Crow nation of Indians, and how these redmen came into possession of this rich Crow country has always been a mystery so far as the white man is concerned. Many theories have been set forth, but none have given the exact origin of these people. The Crow chiefs’ own story of his people is most interesting.

* * * *

It is spring and the Crows have made camp on the Big Horn, prepared to meet the white fur traders who are soon due to arrive from Big river and up the Yellowstone.
The green grass and the budding cottonwoods which border the stream so far as eye can penetrate, lend a verdure to the rounded swells which rise and fall where the narrow valley terminates. Beyond is the rugged outline of a horizon that is broken by high Buttes which mark the foothills of the distant mountain range. Away to the west barely visible in the purple haze of the evening is the dim outline of the Continental Divide.
Up and down this stream at this time of day we see the boys bringing in the many horses - hundreds of them - to be staked near at hand, safe from the envious eye of some possible marauding Blackfoot band. Down in the valley amid the silvery cotton woods and the copses of willow and touching the banks of the river stands the rugged circle of tepees. There are all grades of lodges, some old and some new - all made of buffalo skin, and each terminating at its apex with a sheaf of cross poles and the smoke flap brown and scorched. Some are plain; others are painted with a variety of colors and signs, setting forth the coups of the owner.
Here and there is a tepee larger than the others and with many decorations - the home of a chief. Entering one of these, a splendid leather lodge, we find an old chief seated beside a glowing fire. He has many young visitors for this is the night of story telling.
All is quiet - not a word is spoken by the youths. The old warrior has lighted his pipe. Finally the old man breaks the silence.
“Ho, my sons, it is tonight that I am to tell you the story of your people. I will tell it as my grandfather told it to me many moons ago.

Up-Sah-Ro-Ku, The Crows

“Our people call themselves Up-sah-ro-ku. None of our chiefs or old men can remember what was the original meaning of that name. Our Great Spirit gave us that name when He created the Crows. Some of our people say that it means “Sparrow Hawk,” while others say that the name means “Powerful Eagle.” The name that we are known by among the whites - “Crows” - is a name which originated solely with this white race, and, for my part, I know not where or why that name was given to us.
“There is a legend in my family, handed down through many generations, that the first white men the Crows saw were upon the shores of a great water, so great that the further shores could not be seen and the Crows did not know how far this great water extended. This, my sons, was in some far distant country, but where it was or what was the name of the water, our people do not know. These men were white. They had beards and dressed about the same as the white men do today. Our people saw only two of them and these traveled along the shore in a boat. And, so far as we are able to learn, this happened about two hundred of the white man’s years ago. To these white men, our people gave the name “People who live on the Water; but in later years, the Crows called them Mahr-stah-she-dah, or the “Yellow-eyed People,” by which they are still called.

On the Kansas River

“So far as we know now, my sons, the first place of residence that the Crows have any definite knowledge of, is when they dwelt upon the Flint river, or what the whites call the Kansas river. Some of our old men also speak of the Little Blue river in the State of Kansas.
(Cont. next week) Print this post