Running Eagle

Pride of the Blackfoot Nation- and special belated Veteran's Day message

Nov 13, 2023

Running Eagle Falls. Do a where’s Waldo and try to find me in this picture.

These falls, just gushing out of the rock, are really cool. The picture doesn’t do them justice. Lukas took a video which would give you a better idea of the power of the falling water- the noise, the current in the pool, the movement of all that water blasting through the cave, etc. But I’m going leave that out and just say hey, get your bum over to East Glacier on a crummy fall or spring day and see it for yourself, all alone with Rover or with your special someone. I’ll be back here next summer during the busy season with the crowds, taking some fair-weather friends or perhaps schoolkids from Japan with me. If Lukas comes he’ll entertain us all with some cliff diving along the sides.

Did you find me in the Waldo challenge? This cropping makes you appreciate a little better the size of the falls. I’m down in the right corner of the frame, looking up at the cavern where there water comes gushing out majestically and mysteriously:

On the way back to the car, Lukas forded the stream again without getting wet, and I plodded through in my muck boots, also staying dry. At the lot, I said, “Hey Luke, get a picture of the story of the falls and that Indian princess.” (I like it when Luke takes all the pictures; with no electronics in my pockets, I may be boots-heavy but I’m digital-light and full-on luddite! )

Here is the fascinating story:

My Blackfoot is a little rusty; thank goodness for Google Translate:

begin translation:

The story of Running Eagle

Running Eagle lived many years ago, long before European contact in the 1700s. She was born here in the heartland of the Amskapi-Pikuni, next to the shining mountains. Running Eagle was a real mortal person, not mythical.

RE’s life story is an illustrious saga of leadership and many victories that are famous to this day…RE is the only young woman of the Pikuni people to have gone on a four-day fast…above the beautiful falls…to suffer, dream, pray, and find her medicine….RE became a true woman warrior for courage and bravery in all of her accomplishments and deeds. She was a great horsewoman, a fast runner, and an excellent hunter. She was kind, thoughtful and a generous person. With precision perfection, RE made everything, including her spear, quiver, bow (etc.)…The true, exciting stories of her prowess on war parties, raids, adventures, and counting coup unfolded many times…RE was a tall and beautiful woman with long black braids, and walked a straight religious path with grace, pride, and honor. Nearing her 30th year, RE went on her last raid across the Continental Divide, where she was killed by the Flathead in their territory.

At her burial in a tree high in the mountains overlooking the falls, Wandering Wolf, her father, chief of the Pikunis, gave a speech. He praised his daughter for her knowledge, wisdom and courage, and then spoke about the future of the Pikuni tribe and the Blackfoot Nation.

As I grieve for the loss of my beloved daughter, and our tribe makes plans for raids of vengeance upon the Flathead nation, I contemplate the possible loss of one of my sons, or indeed another daughter, and I ask myself, “Why?” The Flathead are a peaceful people, and never came to our lands to do us any harm. Our raids have forced them into an alliance with the Kootenai, and now they are stronger and more dangerous than before. They have never crossed the divide and attacked us, but with more provocation, we may have new enemies at our backs. We have expelled the Cree, the Sioux and the Cheyenne from our hunting territory to the north, east and south. We have ample land and waters for our sustenance. Why these raids to the west into otherwise peaceful territory, but for mere pride and gains which we can survive without? Let us make peace with nations on all sides. Let Running Eagle’s death mark an end to these senseless wars and raids, and let us grow stronger, not weaker, with understanding and mutual trade among all.

This message was well received among the great majority of the Pikuni tribe, but there were also those who despised the message of peace. A secret cabal was formed. At the head of the conspiracy was Jumping Jackrabbit, 2nd in command among the Pikuni, a man with coarse tastes and a fondness for the squaws many years his younger. Many times had the beautiful Running Eagle rejected his lusty advances. His wife, Soaring Ladybird, knew he hated Chief Wandering Wolf. Soaring Ladybird once asked him, “But maybe the Chief is right. Do we really need to go on dangerous, far-away adventures into enemy territory? It costs us dearly in blood and time away from the harvest and the hunt.”

“Foolish woman!” said Jumping Jackrabbit. “Have a look at your shiny necklaces, bracelets and other baubles and gewgaws! Where do you think they come from? How do you think we can afford this luxury tepee and these fine horses? (and he was meanwhile thinking, “And how else could I afford to pay for the attention of all these fetching squaws?- the Great Spirit knows I’m ugly enough!”) My friends are making good coin with these raids, and as second in command, I get my cut! Do you really want to give all that up?”

Soaring Ladybird thought about it and never again mentioned the raids, or wars, or anything that drew attention to the source of their wealth and gewgaws. In fact, quite the opposite; she made a special effort to support the brave men who ventured into Flathead territory on their annual raids and always thanked them for their service, pretending of course that it was necessary for the safety of the tribe, and in thanks she would often bake them pumpkin crumblecakes. She made sure that the war banner of the fighting Pikunis always flew proudly on the highest pole of their tepee, and was quick to admonish and ridicule anyone who supported Wandering Wolf’s call for peace.

Unfortunately for the Pikuni tribe and Blackfoot Nation, the shady, devilish conspirators managed to end the life of and thus the peace project of Chief Wandering Wolf. They blamed his death on a hapless, wandering Kickapoo Indian named Plodding Dungbeetle who showed up at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Nevertheless, in the intervening many years between the death of Running Eagle and the arrival of the White Man, the Blackfoot Nation did experience some years of peace and prosperity; and they prospered the most when they made peace with their neighbors, heeding the call of Wandering Wolf.

In the spirit of Running Eagle and Wandering Wolf, let us recognize the bravery of our warriors, who have courageously fought for what they considered a noble cause, but let us teach them the uncomfortable truths about all the Jumping Jackrabbits among us, and promote peace from this moment on!

-end of translation.