Dear Reader,
As a supplement to this month’s book review, I hope you’ll listen to February’s Second Drafts podcast from a few weeks ago with Nick Ross. Nick was who recommended today’s book, Fools Crow, and reading it gave me more insight into his indigenous story (and vice versa).
As a review, these monthly reviews are long essays with plenty of book excerpts to get a feel for the author’s writing (and not just my musings about it). My goal is draw out the main themes, tie them together, and share how the book impacted me and may be of interest to you.
In January, Peaches and I reviewed one of our favorite authors—Wendell Berry—and his collection of agrarian essays, The World-Ending Fire: The Essential Wendell Berry. You can scroll to the bottom of this page for Peaches’ Pick and what we’ll be reading for March.
Thanks for supporting my writing here at Second Drafts. I hope you enjoy the review.
Craig
Fools Crow
While I enjoyed getting to know the characters in James Welch’s novel, Fools Crow, I confess I spent the first 150 pages wondering if its publisher, Penguin Classics, had made a typographical error with regard to the book’s title.
Fools Crow. Did they just misprint it, forgetting an apostrophe? Shouldn’t it be Fool’s Crow? Possibly, but who is the fool and why does the crow belong to him? Maybe it’s correct in making the point that, indeed, fools crow (i.e. foolish men say loud things), but then again, who are the fools and what are they crowing about? It wasn’t until chapter 13 that I understood that White Man’s Dog—a young Indian brave in his Montana band of the Blackfeet tribe—eventually becomes Fools Crow (“one who fools members of the Crow tribe”) as part of the celebration of his coming of age. It is Fools Crow’s life that serves to illustrate the hard transition from the old ways to the new.
Welch captures the indigenous world of the mid-1800s in great detail, beginning with the names of not only those who are Fools Crow’s people (Rides-at-the-door, Running Fisher, Yellow Kidney, Heavy Shield Woman, Red Paint, Double Strike Woman, Striped Face, Kills-close-to-the-lake), but also those given to nature (Cold Maker: winter; Backbone of the World: the Rocky Mountains; Seven Persons: the Pleiades; Sun Chief: the sun; Night Red Light: Venus). These names introduce the people and land of White Man’s Dog/Fools Crow’s story, and by their very nomenclature, brim with vivid description of both character and setting.
“That night Rides-at-the-door sat in his accustomed place opposite the lodge entrance. Amid the confusion of the feasting, the storytelling and banter, he had been silently watching his elder son. He had not seen him so lively in a long time. White Man’s Dog engaged in the teasing and mocking and gave as good as he got. At first, Rides-at-the-door thought his son had gotten into some white man’s water, the Napikwans’ [white men] whiskey that made men foolish. But he knew that none among the Lone Eaters band of the Pikunis had traded recently with the Napikwans. And, too, White Man’s Dog did not act foolish, just different. Rides-at-the-door knocked the ashes from his short-pipe. For so many sleeps, moons, his elder son had been morose, even timid, and there was talk around that he might choose the coward’s way, that he would never strike the enemies. No one said this directly to Rides-at-the-door, but he knew; one always knows these things.” (p. 9)
White Man’s Dog/Fools Crow, despite his fears, rises to the occasion of accompanying the men on his first raid—a horse-stealing party against the rival Crow tribe. After the men steal the horses, his role (along with the rest of his younger peers) is to herd them safely away and watch over them until the fighting finishes:
“Outside, over one hundred and fifty horses grazed under the watchful eye of White Man’s Dog. They pawed easily through the flaky snow to reach the thick grass at the base of the butte. It seemed odd to White Man’s Dog that two sleeps ago these horses were content to belong to the Crows. Now they were Pikuni horses and seemed equally content. There was something about this easy changing of allegiance that made him almost envy the horses. As long as they weren’t harmed, as long as the grass was long both sides, they would live in peace.” (p. 34)
While the horse stealing is successful, not all of White Man’s Dog/Fools Crow’s tribe make it back; some are killed, while others (Fast Horse and Owl Child) take their raiding party on the road and go after white men, who the Pikunis call “Napikwans,” coming from the east. This desertion is condemned by the tribe, and Rides-at-the-door tries to comfort White Man’s Dog/Fools Crow’s fear of the Napikwans retaliating:
“‘For now it is better to treat with them [the Napikwans] with them while we still have some strength. It will only be out of desperation that we fight…It is good for you to be concerned, White Man’s Dog. But you must remember that the Napikwans outnumber the Pikunis. Any day the seizers [another name for the white man] could ride into our camps and wipe us out. It is said that already many tribes in the east have been wiped away. These Napikwans are different from us. They would not stop until all the Pikunis had been killed off.’ Rides-at-the-door stopped and looked into the faces of his sons. ‘For this reason we must leave them alone, even allow them some of our hunting grounds to raise their whitehorns [cattle]. If we treat wisely with them, we will be able to save enough for ourselves and our children. It is not an agreeable way, but it is the only way.’” (p. 90)
It is this theme of inevitability—that the Pikunis will have to eventually deal with the Napikwans—that runs through the book, adding tension to Welch’s portrayal of the tribe, and haunting the dreams of White Man’s Dog/Fools Crow and his future. Inevitability becomes reality as the Pikunis and Napikwans cross commercial paths:
“The Lone Eaters [another band of Pikunis] had camped a short ride form Riplinger’s trading house. The lodges were set up around a bend in a grove of big-leaf trees, so they were not visible to the two other bands who were also trading. Whole families were going to the trading house, their packhorses laden with robes, and coming back with the goods that would make their lives easier. The women traded for cloth, beads, paints, white man’s powder for cooking, kettles and pans, earrings and brass studs to decorate belts and saddles. The children came back with sweet sticks and knives and even some dolls. And the men acquired half-axes, files, hoop-iron, tobacco, ammunition, and guns. There were not as many of the repeating rifles as they had expected, so most of them had to settle for the new single-shot seizer gun. These rifles were as heavy and long as their old muskets, but they fired cartridges, were easily loaded even on horseback, and fired most of the time. The greased shooters carried truer and farther than the old balls. There was some grumbling but most were happy to get this weapon, even at the price of fifteen prime hides.
Only a few of the important men of the Pikunis received many-shot guns. Riplinger had acquired eighteen of them, and he presented them as gifts to the chiefs and to others he deemed important. He often gave valuable things, such as saddles and guns, to the chiefs to ensure their future trade.” (p. 100-101)
Not too long after, White Man’s Dog marries Red Paint, a girl in the Pikuni band, soon after which, the elders give White Man’s Dog the task of tracking down Lost Horse and Owl Child and appeal to them to stop attacking Napikwans and return to the tribe. After “several sleeps,” he catches up with the two, but is unsuccessful in convincing them to come back and returns home. He is then given the chance to ride against a Crow tribe, during which he kills the Crow chief, Bull Shield, and becomes a hero. The elders change his name to “Fools Crow” in honor of what he did (i.e. fooled the Crow), as he is now “a man of much medicine” [stature] among his people.
The tensions between the Pikuni and the Napikwans, however, continue to build:
“So many Napikwans, closing in all the time, made the people feel that their time on the plains was numbered. Lately, their only contacts with white people brought bad news. It saddened them that Mountain Chief, their leader, was now on the run. It angered them to think that the seizers thought he could control Owl Child, as one hobbles a horse that has a tendency to wander. Now the seizers were determined that Mountain Chief pay for the crimes of Owl Child. This was like shooting one gopher because another gopher had bitten a child’s finger. War with the Napikwans seemed unavoidable—even Rides-at-the-door, who for so long had counseled peace, now saw war as a possible solution and had said so at he council called after the seizers had left—and so Fools Crow was glad to come to the Backbone to clean his mind, to renew his spirit. When he and Red Paint returned to their people, he would be ready to fight for the hunting ranges that belonged to the Pikunis.” (p. 161-162)
Indeed, it is on this mini-vacation to the mountains with Red Paint that Fools Crow, in defense of his wife, ends up doing battle with and killing his first Napikwan. They return to camp, where Fools Crow tells his story of the encounter to the council, who then determine that, “if this is the truth, then we must counsel with seriousness. To kill a Napikwan is worth little laughter.” Welch continues with the story, writing,
“And so the men argued about the killing of the Napikwan. To most of them it was a good and just act, for the white man had been killing off all the animals, thus depriving the Pikunis of their food and skins. Some felt that the killing of a Napikwan was no worse than the killing of a wolf with the white-mouth [rabid]. Young Bird Chief, who was popular with the militant members of the band, suggested that now was the time to kill them all off, one by one or all at once. Several around him shouted their agreement.”
Rides-at-the-door then gives one of my favorite speeches in the book, speaking to the younger men from a position of wisdom and bringing perspective to those present:
“My own father, Fools Crow’s grandfather, was killed many winters ago in a pointless raid on one of the forts on the Big River east of here. Many of you have also lost relatives in the long-ago. At that time the Pikunis did not know the power of the Napikwans. They thought to drive out these strange creatures, so they loosed their arrows and lances, rode into battle with axes and knives, and were killed mercilessly by these new sticks-that-speak-from-afar. Many women and children were left to cry. It became apparent to our long-ago chiefs that they must make peace with the Napiwans or the Pikunis would disappear from their other’s breast. I ha been almost thirteen winters since the big treaty with the bosses from the east. I remember the council on the banks of the Big River. At that time the Pikunis gave the Napikwans some land in return for promises that we would be left alone to hunt on our ranges. We were satisfied, for our ranges still extended beyond where sky touches earth. We in turn promised that we would leave the white ones alone. Four winters ago, we signed a new paper with the Napikwans, giving them our land that lies south of the Milk River. Again, we promised to let them alone. We thought that would put an end to their greed. Last year they brought us a new paper and our chiefs marked it. We were to get commodities to make up for our reduced ranges and our promise to live in peace with them. Our chiefs were to receive some of the white man’s money. These things never came to pass. And so we have every reason to hate the Napikwans.” (p. 177)
This first half of the speech, of course, is received with much enthusiasm from Young Bird Chief and the rest of the younger men, but Rides-at-the-door isn’t finished:
“Listen to me, warriors. Much of what Young Bird Chief says is as true as the stem of the medicine pipe. Our hearts are full of anger, and I have no doubt we could inflict a great blow on these Napikwans. It would not be difficult to drive these individuals from our lands. Perhaps we could burn down the trading forts and the white settlements. Many scalps would hang from our lodgepoles. It would make our people feel good to do these things. I t would make me fee l good, for no one hates the presence of the Napikwans more than I…
…But now things are different. The great war [the American Civil War] between the Napikwans far to the east is over. More and more of the seizers who fought for Ka-ach-sino, the great Grandfather [President Lincoln], have moved out to our country. More come still. If we take the war road against the whites, we will sooner or later encounter great numbers of them. Even with many-shots guns we couldn’t hope to match their weapons. Or their cruelty…
…And so we must fend for ourselves, for our survival. That is why we must treat with the Napikwans. You are brave men, and I find myself covered with shame for speaking to you this way. But it must be so. We are up against a force we cannot fight. It is our children and their children we must think of now.” (p. 179)
At this point in the story (and really for the rest of the book), Welch chronicles the Pikuni attempt to make peace with an entity that has no real interest in reciprocating. The chiefs meet with General Sully of the U.S. military, who gives them three ultimata—1) turn in Owl Child and others who have killed white men; 2) return all horses stolen from the citizens of the Territory of Montana and the U.S. government; and 3) stop harassing and making it unsafe for citizens living in the territory. Welch’s omniscient narrator, however, reveals the futility of the Pikuni trying to meet these expectations:
“This meeting…would have enhanced Sully’s reputation as a man who brought peace to the northern plains. But now he realized that that was not even true—the people of Montana Territory wanted not peace but punishment. They wanted to run these red Indians right off the face of the map, push them into Canada, or, failing that, kill them like wild animals. It was an emotional issue for the people, a practical one for the politicians and bankers. They wanted to open up the Blackfeet land for settlement. Sully knew that he was a hindrance and, furthermore, that he deck had been stacked against him from the start. Even if all the chiefs had shown up, it would not have changed the simple fact that the Blackfeet were to be eliminated by any means possible, or at least forced into a position they would never peacefully accept. Sully shook his head, a rueful smile hidden by his mustache. The only question now was, who would be eliminated first—he or the Blackfeet?” (p. 279)
Unable to adequately or efficiently fulfill the ultimata and fighting “the white-scabs” [small pox caught from the Napikwans]—the Pikuni decide to leave their lands and head north into Canada. Fools Crow, having tried to again find Owl’s Child to beg him to stop his attacks on the Napikwans, passes through his band’s former lands on his way to join them in Canada. Much to his dismay, it is no longer the same:
“Fools Crow began to look for those places which the blackhorn [buffalo] herds favored this time of the year. He searched around the Sweet Grass Hills, the Yellow River, the Shield-floated-away River, Snake Butte, and Round Butte. But he did not find the blackhorns. He looked along the breaks north of the Big River, and he looked to the country of the Hard Gooseneck and the White Grass Butte, the Meat Strings. But there were no blackhorns. And there were no long-legs and no big-horns. There were no wags-his-tails or prairie-runners. It was as if the earth had swallowed up the animals. Where once there were rivers of dark blackhorns, now there were none.” (p. 359)
Despite the disappearance, the story ends with a dream—a vision—that Fools Crow has along his travels north. The inspiration gives Fools Crow hope:
“‘There is much good you can do for your people,’ said Feather Woman.
Fools Crow looked toward the river. His black buffalo-runner [horse] stood patiently, saddled and bridled, his eyes studying something far downstream.
‘You can prepare them for the times to come. If they make peace within themselves, they will live a good life in the Sand Hills [heaven, or the after life]. There they will go on to live as they always have. Things will not change.’
‘I do not fear for my people now. As you say, we will go to a happier place, far from these Napikwans, this disease and starvation. But I grieve for our children and their children, who will not know the life their people once lived…dressed like the Napikwans, they watch the Napikwans and learn much from them, but they are not happy. They lose their own way.’
‘Much will be lost to them,’ said Feather Woman. ‘But they will know the way it was. The stories will be handed down, and they will see that their people were proud and lived in accordance with the Below Ones [humans], the Underwater People [fish]—and the Above Ones [ancestors].” (p. 362-363)
As Fools Crow fictionally attests, the actual story of indigenous Native Americans in the midst of the settlement of the continent by whites has never been easy to tell. What I appreciate about James Welch’s novel (much like James Fenimore Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans, a narrative set a hundred years earlier and in the northeast) is the way it embeds the reader in the story without taking sides. Welch (and Cooper, who is much harder to read) are fair to all involved in their portrayals of natives and settlers alike; the result is a story capturing the hope and heartbreak of the period and people, involving a glorious and brutal land that matters for all kinds of reasons.
To be sure, there were cruel Indians, just as there were awful soldiers; likewise, there were plenty of sympathetic settlers who mirrored caring sentiments in their native brethren trying to figure out how to co-exist peacefully. Greed and control played ugly roles, as did immorality and violence. However, rather than stating this in so many words, Welch illustrates the wickedness of it all, doing so equitably on both sides without running off the cliff of blame. He tells a human story—one that makes use of two different languages, but still translates to all of us in this same universe.
Can we can tell the story of our nation’s history as honestly as Welch? Perhaps a better question is, will we take time to learn all of it before we try? One can hope.
March Peaches’ Pick: Atomic Habits
Now that we’re two months into our New Year’s resolutions, Peaches thought it might be a good time to revisit habits—how to reinforce good ones and break bad ones. So, Atomic Habits by James Clear, is our book selection for next month.
Upon first glance, the book looks to be an easy read, at least in terms of readability. Peaches and I aren’t that big on so-called “self-help” books, but after reading the first chapter, this one seems to have a little more thought to it than your average habit book. Here’s the write-up from the back cover:
“People think when you want to change your life, you need to think big. But world-renowned habits expert James Clear has discovered another way. He knows that real change comes from the compound effect of hundreds of small decisions—doing two push-ups a day, waking up five minutes earlier, or reading just one more page. He calls them atomic habits.
In this ground-breaking book, Clear reveals exactly how these minuscule changes can grow into such life-altering outcomes. He uncovers a handful of simple life hacks (the forgotten art of Habit Stacking, the unexpected power of the two Minute Rule, or the trick to entering the Goldilocks Zone), and delves into cutting-edge psychology and neuroscience to explain why they matter. Along the way, he tells inspiring stories of Olympic gold medalists, leading CEOs, and distinguished scientists who have used the science of tiny habits to stay productive, motivated, and happy.”
Pick up a copy and read along with us! Look for our review on Saturday, March 26.