An Indian Duel

How The Chippewas and Crows Settled Their Argument . . . 

(First published in the Hysham Echo on July 8, 1925)

(By Mrs. M. E. Plassmann)

When the white race first came to America its representatives were not specially interested in the Indians they found here, and wasted no time in trying to discover whether the tribes they met had sprung from the same stock, or where were their original dwelling places. They regarded them as just plain Indian, to be exploited when possible, and with “no rights a white man was bound to respect.” Not much curiosity was felt concerning them; they were new, like the soil and the climate, and the pioneers had little time or strength to cope with ethnological subjects, after engaging in a life and death struggle with the latter. This, of course, does not apply to the missionaries, to whom we are indebted for much of our knowledge of Indians; but the missionaries’ first object was the saving of souls, which is none too easy a task, when the souls are those of civilized human beings.

There was undoubtedly some questioning how these red sons of Adam chanced to be on this continent, and one theory advanced claimed them to be descendents of the lost tribes of Israel. This idea obtained credence with many who knew the Indians best, from having lived with them, and became familiar with their languages and customs. Not until a comparatively recent date was there any really scientific attempt made to study the origin of our Indians, and then it was too late to learn much which might easily have been acquired earlier.

While classed as Mongolians, the tribes belong to different families, and some of those now living in Montana have wandered far from their first homes. The Flatheads, or Saleesh as they should be called, are thought to have come from the northeast; the Blackfeet, being Algonquians, once lived much further east, as did other tribes belonging to that great family The Sioux, including the Crows, wandered here from the far southeast, it is now believed, and numberless years must have elapsed during their migration.

These two tribes, the Sioux and the Crows, long ago, tarried for an indeterminate period in Minnesota, or over the northern border of that state. It was while living there the Crows seceded from the main body of the Sioux, due, as I have before stated, to a quarrel between the wives of two chiefs, who both coveted the same portion of buffalo meat. The affair degenerated into a general scrap, begun by the women, but fought to a finish by their respective husbands and adherents. This, at least is the legend. Only one thing is certain, at no distant date, the Crows broke away from their relatives, and while before dwellers in villages, where they raised corn and vegetables like the Mandans, they moved west, and became nomadic.
Not all at once was this change made, and it was while still living in Minnesota, but probably not in villages, that the following incident occurred. It is a thrice told tale, which I heard from a man to whom it was narrated.

This man was working in a lumber camp, whether as foreman, cook, or plain lumber-jack, I cannot say; but he was engaged in some capacity where he earned enough to aid others if so disposed; and it was a peculiarity of his to be “so disposed.” One day he heard that an old Chippewa chief was living in an abandoned cabin near the camp, and was in great destitution, having very little to eat. The man - we will call him Henry, as that was not his name - at once told his informant not to let the Indian suffer, but to come to him every day and he would see that the chief had enough to eat.

Where Henry secured the food - whether from that allotted him, or from the camp kitchen, he did not say. It is enough to know that the old man was amply supplied. He had plenty to eat, it is true, but his years were many, and he knew that death was near. As his end approached, he sent for Henry, the messenger stating that the chief had a story to tell him, which he thought worthy or preservation.

Prompted by kindness, curiosity, or both, Henry followed the messenger to the cabin where lay the dying man. The latter was near his end and realizing it, wished to give his benefactor something in return for what he had received. He had no worldly goods; only the memory of an heroic struggle to impart, which had never been chronicled, that told the Crows, and it was fitting that his last moments should be spent recounting his tribe’s bravery - for the chief was a Chippewa.

Although very weak, the sight of Henry as he entered the cabin, seemed to revive him, and lying there on fir boughs, he at once began the tale, which the messenger interpreted. I cannot give it in his picturesque language, which would have made it far more interesting - I can only repeat it as I was told to me, leaving the reader to reflect on this primitive method of paying a debt with a story.

It should be known, that form the beginning the Algonquians, of which the Chippewas are a branch, have always been enemies of the Sioux. They were continually at war one with the other, save for some brief interval when there was a truce declared. Never were they allies. Certain territory in northern Minnesota was claimed by the Chippewas, while adjoining it dwelt the Crows, with only a river separating them.

All went well, except for occasional raids into one another’s country, until the Crows began to invade the Chippewa side of the river, and once over made it evident they meant to remain. Although repeatedly warned to leave, they stood their ground, and the Chippewas were soon convinced that force along would have the desired effect on the invaders. If the Crows were successful in asserting their right to cross the river whenever they chose, the result was inevitable, the Chippewas must move on; the two tribes could not live in harmony. The feud between them had existed for years - so long, in fact, that it was unknown how and when it started, the oldest men being ignorant of its cause.

War having been determined upon, the Chippewas sent out runners to call in the young men who were hunting farther north; the medicine men were consulted, and urged to use their influence with the higher powers, as is customary among all races on the eve of battle; whether the intercessor is called medicine man, priest or minister, and every preparation made for the morrow. There was a ceremonial dance that night, after the war horses had been driven in and picketed near their owners’ tens, and loudly the warriors boasted of their former deeds of daring, not so much for self praise, as to stimulate the young men, who might for the first time be going into battle, to emulate the courage and prowess of their elders.

With the coming of the dawn the Chippewas were mounted, and on their way to encounter the enemy, whom they soon met, and found them as eager for the fray as themselves. The number of the contestants was nearly equal, and it was evident form the very beginning that the fight would be long, and the result could not be predicted.

All day the battle raged, and although carried on in true Indian fashion, with continued attacks and retreats, many were slain on both sides, yet night brought no decisive victory for either tribe. The next morning witnessed a renewal of the strife, and the night showed an alarming diminution of forces, again with neither party vanquished.

It was then that the Chippewa and Crow chiefs took the matter under advisement, and sought some method of staying the carnage. A council having been called, it was at length arranged that the head chief of the Chippewas should fight a duel to the death with the head chief of the Crows; whichever lived the longer should be declared the victor, and both tribes would abide by the result.

The next morning the duel began, with no seconds or physicians in attendance; but a large interested audience which would see to it that the fight was fair. It was a notable encounter this of the two men, who were willing to sacrifice their own lives to save those of their followers. How long it lasted is not known; but at its end both chiefs lay dying, and the one longer to survive would win the victory for his tribe. The Chippewa chief lived tow minutes after the Crow breathed his last, and by that narrow margin fate decreed that the Crows should never again cross the river onto the Chippewa side. Perhaps it was the outcome of this duel that led the Crows moving further west, into the Yellowstone country. Print this post