The Bamberg Herald

So Tribe of Canadian Indians Preserves a Record.

Within 12 miles of Calgary, a city of 50,000 people, and with telephone communication with that city, the Sacree Indians pursue their lives and observe exactly as their forefathers the ancient habits and customs of their tribe.

Two years ago there was a great festival, at which seven of the oldest chiefs related the stories of their exploits, which the painter of the tribe preserved for posterity on two immense steer hides. These hides are now carefully preserved at the office of the agent on the Sacree reserve.

The Indian lad relies for his history on camp-fire stories and well-tanned steer hides covered with queer characters painted crudely with a sort of ink made of the juices of plants.

These records are not haphazard, but they are not altogether regular. When several chiefs and medicine men of the tribe are growing old, an assembly is arranged where a famous Indian interpreter meets the aged men. One by one the old men stand forth before the people and recount the stories of their lives.

They tell thrilling tales of the battles in which they have fought, of the scalps they have taken and the horses they have stolen. These three achievements are regarded as the three most honorable and valorous exploits of the great men. Compared with these, the white man's election to Parliament, his appointment to high office and his great commercial achievements are as nothing, remarks the Toronto Globe.

Sometimes their meetings last several days. The old men are enthusiastic in their descriptions of bygone days; they recite rapidly and gesticulate much. The members of the tribe, sitting about them, listen eagerly, storing the details to be told over and over again to their sons and their sons' sons, until they are tribal tradition of the long past. As they talk, the painter sits upon the ground with his steer hides spread before him, and paints with his rude dyes pictures to illustrate the incidents.

A circle represents a barricade or encampment; awkwardly drawn pictures of animals stand for the horses he has stolen; a galloping horse with a man on its back suggests the story of a wild flight across the prairie before pursuing enemies, a dog may mean a bloody battle won; a tadpole-like mark, a scalped Indian.

The figures are very crude, and the drawings no better than those a four-years-old child makes on its slate. But some ingenuity is exercised in the grouping, and each sketch is in a way, a key to the thrilling tales which in time become history.