We went to Montana to visit
friends. They live in a hillside house
that overlooks Flathead Lake. There’s a
dock made of weathered wood that reaches east toward the morning sun. The light dances like diamonds on the glacial
water.
We faced the smoke-shrouded
mountains from a spot so small that it is merely a Census Designated Place (CDP). In the distance on Wild Horse Island, bighorn
sheep and mule deer ambled around with the occasional brown bear, although we
couldn’t see them.
The property has been in the
family for several generations. Therefore,
a great-great grandmother who taught at the local school must certainly have
run into Frank Bird Linderman, who came to the territory in 1885 from Elyria,
Ohio, at the age of 16. Working as a
trapper, in search of adventure, he was one of millions to whom the West
beckoned as the American century loomed on the horizon.
Married in Missoula in 1893,
the father of three children, Frank went on to be an assayer, furniture
salesman, journalist, sculptor, and politician.
But it was the culture and history of Montana’s Native Americans that
became his passion.
By 1917, when Frank built a
cottage for his family on Flathead Lake, he had already published his first
book, Indian Why Stories: Sparks from War
Eagle’s Lodge-Fire.
“Why the Chipmunk’s Back is
Striped,” he explained in one story; “Why the Mountain-Lion is Long and Lean,”
“Why Indians Whip the Buffalo Berries from the Bushes,” and much more.
Western artist Charles
Russell, widely admired for his paintings of cowboys and Indians, was Frank’s
good friend and illustrated his books.
The Flathead, Kootenai,
Chippewa, Blackfeet, Cree and Crow – Frank interviewed members of the tribes
using sign language and interpreters. The
legends he learned appeared in
Bunch-Grass and Blue Joint (1921), Plenty-Coups,
Chief of the Crows (1930) and his other books.
Frank Bird Linderman, the Chippewa medicine man Big-rock, and the artist Charles M. Russell in Montana (1916) |
Frank wanted to “write of the
old days as they were, so men would appreciate and not forget,
to lend firelight,
to tell and not cheat in the telling.”
His affinity with Flathead
Lake, which is bordered by mountains on the west and east, prompted him to tell
his daughter:
“I know every inch of that
country on both sides of the ranges. I
have camped in every place on the shore of the lake when Manitou was king.”
Who was Manitou?
Among Native Americans, Manitou
is a Great Spirit, a life force, the creator.
Manitou also refers to the things that are most valued in life.
Manitou is a celebration of wonderful
occurrences. It is a rite of passage. It is stumbling across a huckleberry bush on the way up the mountain, and the glint
of a rainbow trout in the Flathead River.
*Linderman was not
alone in his desire to document the lives of Native Americans. The photographer and ethnographer Edward S.
Curtis launched his North American Project around 1900, ultimately producing
40,000 photographs of 80 tribes, 10,000 wax recordings, and the 20-volume book,
The North American Indian.
**Frank
Linderman died in California in 1938 after years of poor health.
https://www.throughthehourglass.com/2018/09/lending-firelight-in-montana.html
https://www.throughthehourglass.com/2018/09/lending-firelight-in-montana.html
This strikes me as exactly the kind of book my father might have gotten for his 9th or 10th birthday, and read under the covers for several years, or aloud around the fire at boy scout camp.
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