Good Morning (or Afternoon or Evening), depending on when you’re joining us today. 

Before I start the discussion on American Indian Sign Language, let me say that I will be giving away another book to one of the bloggers today.  All you have to do is leave a comment.  Applicable to the greater 50 US States and/or to Canada.  Void where prohibited.

To your left is the cover of the book INDIAN TALK by Iron Eyes Cody.  I have this book, but I also have 4 other books on Indian sign language, one of them being published in 1881.  When I’m writing I use all of these books, as they are all similar and yet in some aspects, not.  One of my books — and of course I can’t find it right now — has not only Indian sign language, but the language of trails and signs left on trails.  I find that fascinating.  But before we get into how to say certain things, want to review a little of its history?

All tribes could communicate via the universal sign language.  Complex conversations could be carried on that were quiet elaborate,  and once sign language was well known – just as we do with our language – shortcuts were taken, with a simple gesture meaning a lot.  Expressions mattered also.  A frown, a smile.  Indeed, if a white man came on the prairie and didn’t know this universal sign language or couldn’t communicate in any way, he was considered rather stupid, or at the very least, rude, for not taking the time and effort to learn.

It’s generally accepted that the Plains Indians cultivated the sign language to a large degree and that they kept it alive all through the years, but even at the beginning of the European’s contact with the American Indian, Colorado talks about their sign language.  In the words of this explorer:

“That they were very intelligent is evident from the fact that although they conversed by means of signs, they made themselves understood so well that there was no need of an interpreter.” . . . “They are kind people and not cruel, they are faithful, they are able to make themselves very well understood by means of signs.”

Many of the Plains tribes believed that the language originated with the Kiowa tribe, who learned it in Mexico.  But one thing is generally agreed, and that is that the Kiowa were most proficient in using the language.  Here’s another quote I found interesting:

“The language of signs is so perfectly understood in the Western country, and the Indians themselves are such admirable sign talkers, that, after a little use, no difficulty whatever exists in carrying on a conversation by such a channel; and there are few mountain men who are at a loss in thoroughly understanding and making themselves intelligible by signs alone, although they neither speak or understand a worn, of the Indian tongue.” Ruxton, NY 1848.  Adventures in Mexico and the Rocky Mountains

In my very first book, LAKOTA SURRENDER, the heroine and hero communicate at first by means of sign language.  Truth is, I loved this research and I had fun making the signs myself.   Okay, so that’s probably enough background.  Let’s learn some talk.

“Me” — point to yourself with your thumb; “you” — point to whomever you are speaking to or about; “yes” — start with a closed fist in right hand, index finger extended.  At the same time you drop your hand, close your index finger sigh your thumb; “no” — start with right hand held against chest, fingers pointing left.  As you swing you hand around in a half circle, turn your hand so that the palm is facing up.  “Love” — man crosses his hands over his chest — woman touches her heart.

Let’s make a sentence, shall we.  Let’s say “I love you” in sign language.  Did you do it?  Easy, huh?

Okay, here’s another.  “question”:  hold your right hand up about shoulder level, palm facing out.  Rotate the hand slowly a few times — this means a question is coming.  Here’s another:  “possession” — meant to show who owns what or to say something like my… whatever.  Place your clenched hand close to the neck/shoulder.  Bring fist down and foreward with thumb pointing forward.  “mother” — With your hand cupped, bring it over to the left shoulder/chest area and tap your chest two of three times.

Okay, are you ready?  Let’s say “Where is my mother?”  Make the sign for question.  Then the sign for mother, then the sign for possession.  Did you do it?

There are many different books out there on sign language if you are interested in learning it or reading it.  I should probably also say that if you watch — or can get your hands on — any of the old silent movies  – or some of the early, early talkies — they had true American Indians playing those roles — and you’ll see them talking sign language.  Something to really see.

Here’s the cover copy of my latest book, out on the market, BLACK EAGLE.  Please pick up your copy today.  And look for SENECA SURRENDER coming soon — only two months away — April 2010.

So how’d you do?  Did you like the sign language?  Come on in and let’s talk.

Howdy!  Oki Napi!  Han Kola!

I’ve been hesitating to make this post, only because I am not talented as a seamstress, and so there are many things about it that I don’t understand.  But I have many friends who sew — and actually like it — I rarely sew because I’m so bad at it — and I poke myself so often, that I usually give up in frustration.  This post is inspired by a couple of friends that I talk with almost daily on the interent.  They both sew and one quilts.  And so I thought I’d tackle this subject, because it is one dear to a woman’s heart.  What to wear and how to look as beautiful doing it as possible.  I’ll also be giving away a book today to some lucky person who leaves a comment here today.  The give-away, however, is limited to the 50 states in the United States, or to Canada.  Void where prohibited.

This is a picture taken a few years ago with friends (I’m on the left).  This is pow-wow regalia that we are wearing.  Both Elaine and I are wearing fancy dance regalia and Patricia on the left is wearing Northern Traditional dress.  This is the more modern way of dressing for the pow-wow circuit.  However, some things haven’t changed since the days of the long-ago.  On our feet are decorated moccasins and coming up from them are leggings that match and fit into the moccasins .  There are feathers in our hair and we are all wearing our hair in braids — and there is much beadwork, particularly on Patricia’s outfit.  As a note, when I was beading my choker for this outfit, Patricia helped me.  Interestingly with her help, I was actually able to bead.  But to this day, left on my own, I must admit that I’m lost.

But let’s go back to the days of yore.  Without needle and thread, how did the Indians make clothes?  From the book, Tradition Dress by Adolf Hungry Wolf, the tools of the Native Americans were “a knife for cutting, an awl of pointed bone for making holes, and strips of sinew to sew the materials together…” 

On the plains the common material for clothes was buckskin.  But what exactly is buckskin?  It’s actually deer hide, which is considered the best leather because it’s not only durable, but it’s soft, yet wears very tough.  But probably one of its best features is that it’s easy to sew with — or so says Adolph Hungry Wolf in his book, Traditional Dress. 

In the old days, Indians used the brains of animals to tan their hides.  While I can’t tell you the exact process, I can tell you that “Indian-tanned” hides — even today — feel smooth and like velvet to the touch — not only that, they dry soft and flexible, a good point, since many a man or woman lived and worked in the rain…or swam across streams.

The picture above and to the left is called a three-hide dress.  Over to the right here is the modern version of a three hide dress.  The woman in the above picture is Cheyenne.  The three hide dress was made originally with two hides making the skirt and an overlay on top much like a poncho.  At first the poncho wasn’t sewn to the dress, but in the more modern age, they are often sewn to the dress.  As a note, the hides of the animal were often kept in their original shape in order to honor the animal.  These dresses were mostly ceremonial dresses, but they became well known on the Plains.  These dresses were — and still are — works of art.

The picture here to the left is of an Iroquois warrior, painted by George Catlin.  At the time that Mr. Catlin painted this picture, he tells the story that he found this man living in the West, instead of with his people in the East.  But by this time, the Iroquois had been displaced from their homes, and so perhaps it is to be expected that he found this man living with a Western tribe.  Now interestingly, the Iroquois, who had a lot of contact with the Europeans, soon began to make their clothing from cloth, rather than from buckskin, thus we see this man wearing cloth leggings and cloth breechcloth, as well as a cloth blanket over his shoulder.

Moccains were made from material that was tough, yet pliable and able to withstand the rigors of continual wear.  Many or perhaps most were smoked to make them sturdy.  The two-piece style of moccasins was used by many of the Plains tribes, yet each tribe had their own distinctive trait.  So much was this the case, that warriors could tell from the mere footprint and outline of the moccasin, what tribe had made it.  In cold weather, the fur side of the hide was turned inward to help to warm the foot.   And warriors on the trail often carried extra moccasins or hides that could be made into moccasins, since they often wore through their shoes.  As an aside, it was a custom to discard one’s moccasins at the side of the campfire so that others could tell what tribe it was who had camped there.

To the left here is a Brule Lakotah war shirt.  It was made of buckskin and its owner was clearly well-to-do to own such a manificent shirt.  A word about leggings.  Imagine wearing a soft, pliable leather day in and day out.  These clothes were made to fit a particular person, and as such they fit his figure very well.  It is well noted that these leggings worn by the men were often skin tight, yet still flexible and pliable.  It must have been an act of love that created these clothes that I look upon as works of art.

I’ll leave you with these beautiful images from artist Geroge Catlin:

I hope you’ve enjoyed this post today.  I wish I could add more to the knowledge of how to do it and sew it.  But for that I’ll refer you to the book once again by Adolf Hungry Wolf, Traditional Dress.

And don’t forget, if you haven’t already picked up a copy of my latest effort, Black Eagle, please do so today.

Good Morning or Afternoon or even Evening!  : )  (Not sure when you’re joining us today.)

By the way, I’ll be giving away a free book to some lucky blogger today.  Nothing to read — nothing to buy — just log on and leave a post and you’re automatically entered.

Okay, with that said, off to the right here is Georgie, the little kitten that I rescued when I was in Florida.  Georgie is now full grown and two years old.   But he’s the most recent addition to our pets.  Pets are so important in any culture.  And probably there is no human culture alive and well that doesn’t keep pets.  Sometimes these pets are in the form of the family cow or the family pig or the family chickens.  (Just recently a friend was going out of town and needed someone to watch her chickens.  We were interviewed to see if we qualified to watch them for a week!)

Off to the right here is another one of our pets, Bear.  It seems to me that pets enrich our lives.  They love us when perhaps no one else might and they’re always there for us.  Now, there were many pets in Native America.  There were dogs aplenty.  Indeed, before the advent of the horse in America, the dog was a necessity to any family.  They watched the children, carried the family’s supplies and in Alaska, they formed a very needed mode of transportation (the dog sled).

I don’t know if you can see this very well, but behind me is a tiger.  We discovered him (my husband and I) at a gas station along the route to Florida.  He’s very much a pet.  But I do wonder what it costs to keep him in food.

But I digress.  I wanted to tell you about a true story.  The story of Laughter the pet wolf.  It’s a story told by James Willard Schultz in his book, Why Gone Those Times.  The title of the chapter is called, Laugher, The Story of a Tame Wolf.  Found by Schultz and his Blackfeet friend, Nitaina, after a rain storm had killed all of its brothers and sisters, Nitaina and Schultz carried the baby wolf home.  I do want to repeat a little of the book’s narrative, if you will bear with me.

“Woles are not like dogs, you know.  A dog father knows not his own children.  A wolf marries and he and his wife live always together until death.  When children come, he hunts for them, and brings food for them, and watches over them faithfully while the mother goes out to hunt and run around, and keep up her strength.  Ah, they are wise, true hearted animals, the big wolves of the plains.  And what hunters they are; they never suffer from want of food.”

Laughter was a male pup.  He would sit outside the lodge at night and listen to the wolves off in the distance.  He would run to his mater then and plead with him to take him out there.  But his master would say “no,” and Laughter would obey.  Interestingly none of the male dogs in camp liked him — the females did — but not the males, and so Laughter’s lot in life became fighting very early on.  At first he was afraid of the other dogs, but then after he killed one of them, they all left him alone.

Now, interestingly, Laughter was only friendly to his master, Nitaina.  He would tolerate Schultz, but he never really warmed up to him.  In fact, he would snarl at anyone else other than Nitaina.  Nitaina and Schultz would take Laughter with them when they were going on war parties.  You couldn’t take a dog, because dogs would act the same as saying, “We’re here.  We’re here.  We’ve come here to fight you.”  But not Laughter.  He was a help to the war party, and not a hindrance.  Indeed, Laughter saved their lives by sniffing out the enemy before Schultz and Nitaina were even aware there was an enemy about.

What became of Laughter?  He stayed with Nitaina until he was full grown.  They had many adventures.  But Laughter began to absent himself from the camp for several days — and then for many days.  Again, I should say again that wolves are not like dogs.  He needed his own kind.  He needed to marry.  At first Nitaina tried to tie him, but Laughter would snap the ropes in two.  And so there came a day when Laughter came no more.  But there is a happy ending to the story, and I quote, “Later on we saw him one last time.  We were hunting, and away out on the plain noticed two wolves sitting on a low butte watching us.  As we neared them one came trotting down to meet us, and lo! it was Laughter, oh, so glad to see his master.  Nitaina got down off his horse and petted him, then remounted and called him to follow.  He sat down and watched us starting on, and whined, and trotted back to the butte and the wife hd had found.  He jumped around her, wagging his tail, and then started toward us, looking back — by all his actions coaxing her to follow, but she would not move.  Again and again he did that, and at last gave up and howled.  He loved Nitaina, but he love his young wife most.

“We had thought in the spring to capture several wolf pups and tame them, and saw that it would be only a waste of time and trouble.  The call of kind to kind is stronger than any other love.”

And so ends the story of Laughter, the tame wolf as told by James Willard Schultz. 

Now, my question to you is this:  Do you have pets?  Have you had any unusual pets?  And what do you think?  Aren’t they family?

And don’t forget, if you haven’t yet picked up your copy of BLACK EAGLE, please do so today.  Here’s a link:

  And watch for my new book, SENECA SURRENDER, due out in April 2010.

Good Morning!

The word cowboy is an inescapable part of Native America — at least on the Northern Plains.  There’s a book entitled the same as my title here — When Indians Became Cowboys by Peter Iverson.  In this book he documents what became a very natural transition from warrior to cattleman and horseman.  And just so you know some of the other information in this blog comes from the book, Legends of our Times — Native Cowboy Life by Morgan Baillargeon and Leslie Tepper.

It really started in the 1600’s when first horses, then sheep and cattle found their way onto the plains.  But we won’t go that far back.

Now let me say here that cattle ranching is usually a story told in one color — white (this is from the book, When Indians Became Cowboys  but it’s pretty true, isn’t it?).  I guess to really go back to what started the whole thing, we’d have to go back to 1887 and the allotment act (also known as the very horrific Dawes Act).  The Allotment Act pretended to be the “friend” of the Indian, when in actual fact, it ushered in the beginning of the end of centuries old Native American Culture, the culture that met the first white man on this, Turtle Island (America).  It is responsible all on its own of dividing families and  causing the loss of one’s own culture and also of  the massive stealing of Indian land — all in the name of “doing good,” or “doing what’s best for you.”  Gosh, that sounds awfully familiar.  Scary.

Put as simply as I can, the Dawes Act gave every Indian family a 160 acre piece of land.  But it gave it to individuals and families.  Sounds good doesn’t it?  What could go wrong?

  Well, checkerboarded inbetween Indian land was the same or similar parcel of land that was to be sold to white ranchers.  Thus, native society, which had always thrived around the tribe and friends being close, was  cut up by the intervention of land that was to be sold to whites  (of course the land was supposed to be the Indians’ by treaty, but hey, when it means profit, I guess ethics can be darned?).  Excuse my sardonic tone, if you please.  Anyway, families (extended families) were lost because of mere distance.  It was thought that the Indians would “learn” from the whites surrounding them.  Of course the wordage of the act put it differently — that the Indians were learn from their “betters.”  In truth, there were people who truly believed this was for the best, and they for the most were good people.   Now, it’s true that the Indians did learn, but it wasn’t always pretty, for much of what they learned was as an observer of actions on the part of others that were unconscionable to say the least.

Okay, I could go on and on siting example after example, and telling you about how the land that was affected by the Dawes Act was the land that was the Indian’s best.  But we won’t go there.  Not now.  Instead, let’s have a look at how and when Indians became cowboys.

In the late 1880’s reservation life had little to offer.  How was one to prove one was a man if he couldn’t go on raids, capture horses or hunt as he had always done?  Ah, you’re right.  Cattle ranching fit the bill.  Not only did it allow an outdoor lifestyle, which was essential — it was free and gave the young man a similar sort of environment to that which he had always loved.  Some men raised horses.  Some raised cattle.  Not only did this lifestyle fit the young man’s temperament, it allowed him to carry on his traditions much the same as he had always done — being able to give things away to relatives and friends, and to make a name for himself within the community.  It also allowed the family to draw close together again.

There were several Indian cowboys and ranchers toward the end of the 19th century.   There was Tom Three Persons, from Alberta Canada.  Not only was he a legendary and world rodeo champion, he was also a very prosperous rancher.  He was said to own at one time 500 head of cattle and just as many horses.  He was also a very handsome man. 

Jackson Sundown was Nez Perce and was probably the first Indian cowboy to become the world bucking champion.  The year was 1916.  An interesting part of his life was that he was born in and around 1860 and was with the Nez Perce in their wars in 1877 — he was a teenager.  Her was part of the tribe that was a victim in the massacre at the Battle of Big Hole.  He survived the massacre by hiding under buffalo robes in his tepee until the tepee was set afire.  He then escaped by clinging to the side of his horse — out of sight of the soldiers.  He sought refuge in Sitting Bull’s camp in Canada.  Interestingly Jackson was in his 40’s when he began competing in rodeo.  He was so good that other men refused to ride against him.

Who else would be better suited for this kind of lifestyle?  There were many stars of the rodeo, not to mention their success as ranchers.  There was Barney Old Coyote Sr. — a very handsome man.  There was Todd Buffalo and many, many more.  As a matter of fact, my introduction into Lakota life included the rodeo and one of its bright stars.  And today, most Northern and Southern Plains Indians carry on the tradition of ranching and rodeoing.  Just go to the reservation for a pow-wow.  The rodeo is as much of an attraction as the pow-wow itself.

I hope I’ve raised your interest here in Indian cowboys.  It was a life that they were well suited to — a life that gave the young man standing in his community, a free life-style and the opportunity to do as his ancestors had always done.

Ah, they were…they are handsome men.  Come on in and tell me what you think of this post.  Did you know this about Indians and about ranching and rodeoing?  Have you ever been to an Indian rodeo?  On the Navajo reservation I once had to sing (without knowing they were going to ask me) the National Anthem.  I loved every minute of that rodeo.  So come on in and let’s chat — oh, and if you don’t yet have a copy of Black Eagle, pick up a copy today.

It’s Christmas Time!  I’ve been thinking and thinking of what I could possibly blog today, since Christmas was not a celebrated holiday for Native Americans before the arrival of priests into the far West.  One of my most favorite Christmas memories is being told a story the night before Christmas in an attempt to get me to go to sleep.  It didn’t work very well (getting me to go to sleep).  But it is a wonderful memory.

And so to that end, I thought I’d regale you with a story:

This is the story of the girl who married a star.  It’s origin is Sioux — I don’t know if that’s Lakota or Dakota or Nakota.  All three are Sioux, just different dialects.  By the way this story comes to us from the book, Favorite North American Indian Legends, printed by Dover.  Before I start, I wanted to say that this story reminds me of a story from one of my books, Soaring Eagle’s Embrace, an older title that’s no longer in print.  That story was based on a similar legend, only the legend that Soaring Eagle’s Embrace was based on was the story of a young man who fell in love with a star.  Okay, here is the story.

Long ago, there were two sisters, one whose name was Earth and the other’s name was Water.  This was at a time when all people and animals were in close communication with each other and so the animals supplied the sisters with all their needs.

 One night the sky was clear and beautiful and both sisters looked up to the sky through their wigwam — comment, now we know that this was most likely the Dakota since they were living in Wigwams — anyway, they looked up through the hole in their wigwam and admired the beautiful stars.

Earth said to her sister that she’d had a dream about a handsome young man and that she thought he might be a star.  Water responded saying that she, too, had seen a man in her dreams who was a brave man.

The sisters chose stars that they thought might be these men that they had dreamed of.  Water chose the brightest star for her husband.  Earth chose a little star that twinkled.

Then they slept.  When they awoke, they were in the land of the Sky.  The stars were, indeed, people.  Now it happened that the man that water chose was an older warrior and that the man that Earth chose was a young, handsome man.  Both sisters married these men and they were very happy.

One day the sisters went out to dig turnips (a much favored food at this time in history).  Both of their husband warned them not to strike the ground too hard.  But Earth, in her haste to dig the turnips, struck the ground so hard that she fell through the sky to the ground. 

Earth was found and cared for by two older people who tried to help her.  But she was so upset about losing her husband that all she did is cry.  She could not even see her husband in the sky because he had blackened his face because he was now a widower.  Earth waited and waited for him to come to her, but he could not.  However, he did give her a most precious gift. 

That night when she went to sleep, she dreamed of a beautiful red star.  It had never been in the sky before.  She knew at once that it was her son.

When she awoke, she found a handsome boy by her side — her son.  Although Earth’s husband could not come to get her again, and though he loved his son deeply, he gave to his wife the only thing that he could — their son, Star Boy.  It was a gift from his heart.

‘Tis the season of giving.  I hope you have enjoyed this story.  I thought it was quite beautiful.

 Now one more thing before I end.  Don’t  forget that I am running a holiday contest.  All you have to do is leave a comment or email me personally.  And as always, the contest applies only to the greater US 50 states and to Canada — also void where prohibited.  

Remember, too, that Black Eagle is still on sale at bookstores everywhere.  Merry Christmas!

Good Morning!

One of my favorite research authors is George Catlin.   The story goes that as a young man, he was sent to school to become a lawyer, but he soon tired of this occupation and began chasing his dream, painting.  Because he was born in 1796, he was much accustomed to being amongst the Eastern Indians.  However, he once witnessed a party of Indians come to Philadelphia from west of the Mississippi.  In their native costumes he was much impressed by them, and it wasn’t long before he decided to make it his life’s work to go amongst the Indians and paint them, setting down their life and customs for posterity.

I’m so glad that he did.  Of all the works that I have researched in my seventeen years of writing historical romance books, George Catlin remains my favorite source of inspiration.  Here is a picture of a young girl of the Mandan tribe.  Catlin documents the unusual characteristics of this tribe in as much as they were a tribe of people who had many among them many people with blue and green eyes, as well as light-colored hair.  Notice that this girl has white hair in places — and yet when he painted her, she was 14 years of age.  The Mandans themselves couldn’t explain their unusual looks — so uncommon on the prairie (they were the only tribe that Catlin documents who had these unusual looks).  But Catlin does put forth a theory in his book that he believed  they were the decendants of a long lost Scottish prince — and indeed, a friend of mine told me that in Scotland, there is a long association of information on the American Indian.

This painting to the left of this post is of the Crow men bathing — now it’s not in any of my books — any theory as to why?  When I blew up this painting, lo and behold, there were some rather sexy images of these men as they rested and played.  So of course I had to download this to share with you.  Note also the extreme length of the air on these men.  Long hair was considered a treasure and it was never cut unless one experienced a death of a loved one — but as you can see here, it was grown to very long lengths.

I wanted so much to show you the pictures of Black Rock — a Sioux Indian, and One Horn, another Sioux Indian — but after an hour of trying to find the photos and download them, I gave up.  Once I finally found their paintings (that have inspired me so much), they weren’t available to copy.  However, this is another artist’s rendition of one of a painting that has inspired me — but it doesn’t capture the flavor of the original Catlin works.

Here’s another painting that illustrates the extreme length of the Indian’s hairstyle at this point in their history.  One of the reasons I like researching Catlin is because he went amongst the Indians.  He lived with them and talked with them and really got to know them — so that when a person now reads his work, one is transported back to that time and place.  One comment that Catlin makes in his work is that in all his travels amongst all the Indian tribes of the Americas, not once did anyone accost him or try to steal his things, though there was much opportunity to do both.  It is a statement on the character and integrity of the American Indian.

There’s another hairstyle that was common upon the plains at this time in history.  Here’s a picture of it.  This is the painting (a reproduction) of a Blackfoot Indian who was at this time about fifty years of age.  Note the “bangs” in the center of the forehead.  I’ve tried often to describe this kind of hairstyle in my books — but I think sometimes it communicates better to simply see it for yourself.

Okay, I know this is an awfully big picture, but this picture shows the hairstyle on a man who is quite handsome and I have spent many an hour looking at this painting as I write.  This man was a warrior of distinction — one can tell this by the spear-bow that he carries.  Also note on his shield his medicine bundle.  This man was an Assiniboine Indian, which was at one time a tribe much related to the Sioux, but for some reason in the long ago, they split off from the Sioux (Lakota) and became their own tribe.

Another reason I’ve made this so big is because when I was on the Assiniboine/Gros Venture reservation, I was allowed to sit in on a tribal meeting.  The chief who was holding the meeting could have been a modern image of this man.  The lady who accompanied me said, “He’s a handsome man.”  I could only agree.  By the way, this painting was done by Karl Bodmer, who accompanied Prince Maximilian into the American West.

In ending, I’d like to close with this image of a more elderly George Catlin.  I love this painting — it shows him not only at his work, but with those whom he came to know and acknowledge as friends — the Indians.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this particular blog today — it’s a bit of research that I must admit I have quite a fondness for.  And it’s because of George Catlin that we still have images of the long ago so that we can see the characterization of these people at this point in history.  If he were here today, I would thank him very much.

Do you have a favorite painting — or a favorite research — that inspires you?  Please come on in and let’s talk about it.  Know also that I am running a holiday contest — it’s easy to enter.  Either leave a comment here or email me personally or go find me on FaceBook (you have to type in karenkay.author@earthlink.net to find me.)  I think there are over 500 Karen Kay’s on FaceBook.

And don’t forget to pick up your copy of BLACK EAGLE today. 

Good Morning!

In keeping with Winnie’s theme yesterday, I thought I’d blog today about Indian songs.  For those of you who haven’t heard many Indian songs, you might wonder what’s so different about them.  In truth, though many Native American songs are like any other song, there are different considerations that attach themselves to Indian songs.

Here’s a good place to start, where you can listen to some pow-wow music — the drum (this is a group — called the drum — it’s usually several men who sit around a drum and drum and sing — it is called simply a drum) for the opening song is Thunder Hill — but you can listen to some different drums, as well.  Here’s the link:  www.gatheringofnations.com/music/thunder_morning.htm

This is a picture of a drum.  Some people might say “drum group,” but the usual language is simply “drum.”  Off to the right here are a couple of  pictures of a couple of young men dancing.  These pictures were gotten,by the way, from the 26th Annual Gathering of Nations in Albuquerque, NM earlier this year.  The photographer is Derek Mathews.

Here’s a video/music of round dance music — if you want to go and have a look:  www.youtube/watch?v=75TWwbdelFI

And here’s some incredible pictures of some of the singers in different drums.  Many of these songs are passed down from generation to generation.  Some, however, are new.  Here’s some more pictures of these incredible singers.  All of these pictures,by the way were taken by Le Andra Peters andis from the website www.gatheringofnations.com

Here’s some more pow-wow music:  www.gatheringofnations.com/music/GON-25.htm

Now, just a little bit of info about Indian songs.  This is from the book, The Indian How Book by Author C. Parker, who lived amongst the Indians.  Every song has a purpose and no one sings outright for fear of awakening spirits that are attracted to the song you’re singing.  The scales didn’t necessarily follow what we know of as the chromatic scale, which follow our string instruments, more or less.  But songs were owned and no one could sing another’s song without permission.

Many of the songs made you want to get up and dance — and dance and dance.  Once again, referring to Arthur C. Parker and his book, The Indian How Book, he says, “It may be that these old Indians were pagans, whatever that word may mean, but certainly they knew how to make men feel that there was a Great Spirit in whom we lived and moved and had our being.  Oddly enough, I have known white men and women, who felt the same way about the songs of the red people, and they have returned again and again to the councils of the Indians to drink in this feeling of mystery, this sense of unseen powers.”

Whatever the reason, I know that I love to dance at pow-wows.   Something about the music gets into your soul and before you know it, you’re out there with the other dancers, dancing your cares away.

Hope you’ve enjoyed my blog today.  And now am hoping you will also come and join me at Face Book — I’ve only just taken out a page.  My book cover is my picture and you can find me under Karen Kay–there are several Karen Kay’s I’ve discovered,but just look for the cover of my book and you’ll find me.  Apparently, my name is not listed under Karen Kay yet, and so you may have to enter my email address:  karenkay.author@earthlink.net.

Once there, you can enter my contest to win this book, Black Eagle, or oneof my other books.  Or if you’re not on FaceBook, simply leave a comment here, and you’re automatically entered into the contest.  I must add a few restrictions, however.  Because my books are hard copy, they cannot be sent over the internet.  Therefore, I must restrict the contest to the greater 50 United States and Canada.  This offer does not apply to those states where invalid.

But whatever you choose to do, come on in and let’s chat.  Did you listen to any of the pow-wow music?  And if you did, tell me your thoughts.

Often my blogs are centered on the past as I try to bring to life the American Indian from the past.  Hoping to not make the American Indian of the pst seem like some ulta-human being, I yet strive to show his strengths, and usually center in upon  many of the things that have its roots in Native American, things that we perhaps take for granted.  For instance, we’ve discussed in the past how two men, the real Hiawatha and the Peacemaker brought to Turtle Island (what we know of as America) their hope that this land would be free forever — it was their intention that this land be free from grief, free from war and free for individuals in it to live their own lives according to their own decisions of what they choose for their own lives.  That wish (postulate if you will) – set into motion by Hiawatha and the Peacemaker – was here and was widespread when the Europeans (who were escaping oppression on a far off shore) landed  here in America.  These Europeans, who had no real tradition of freedom, were met by an entirely free people.  True, there was the Magna Carta, which freed many, many people.  But it was written in part for the Nobility who were in protest against an unjust King.

All right, so we’ve discussed other topics in the past, like the names of our towns and rivers and mountains, we’ve included some of our own American celebrations (including but not limited to Thanksgiving); we’ve mentioned and discussed foods that the first Americans gave us, we’ve also talked about the respect the American Indian showed for the land upon which we all walk.  But for today, I thought we might have a look at some of our more contemporary, modern day Indians.  Before I go too much further, let me say that most Indians that I know consider it a compliment to be called Indian —  they themselves say they are Indian and are proud of it.  The politically “correct” label of Native American sits well for some, but not for all, so if I offend, that is not my intention. 

As probably many of you are aware, this is Adam Beach, whom I think is probably one of the most handsome men alive.  And I am particularly fond of this photograph of him.  Does anyone remember him in Squanto, the Disney movie?  It was the first time I saw him on the screen and I thought then, as I still do today, that he is again one of the most handsome men alive.

But the other day I was watching an older movie (1981 movie) of  The Lone Ranger and I was struck by what a handsome man Michael Horse is.  Off to my left is Michael Horse as a young man and off to the right is Michael more recently.  He is still a handsome, handsome man.

This particular movie was the 1981 version of the famous The Lone Ranger so if you’ve never seen it, and you have an opportunity to look at it, I would recommend it, if only from the standpoint of seeing a young and very handsome Michael Horse.

Then today I was watching country videos and I saw a video of Michelle Branch, which had a Native American theme and made her look very Native American.  Upon reading  her biography on Wikipedia, I realize now that she isn’t American Indian, but I’m including her picture here simply because in this video she did look very Native American.

Then there’s Michael Grayeyes.  I saw him in the made for TV movie, Stolen Women/Captured Hearts.  I remember thinking at the time that he was also one of the most handsome men of our times.  He is Cree Indian and is a dancer by trade, as well as an actor.  To our right is Michael dressed to pow-wow.  It looks to me as if he is dressed (in the picture to the right) to grass dance, which is one of the most beautiful of the pow-wow dances I think — at least for the men.  It is quite an atheletic dancel, but I think it also takes quite a bit of agility to perform.

The picture to the right and a little below the others is another picture of Michael.  Handsome…handsome.

Michael also played the lead role in another made for TV movie called Crazy Horse.

This is another wonderful movie to rent or to see if you have the chance.  I believe it is a more accurate accounting of Crazy Horse’s life than some of the earlier movies done on the same subject.  That’s simply my opinion, of course, but from what I’ve read, I think the facts are better detailed in this made for TV movie than others that I have seen on the life of this very brave man.

Do you remember one of those young boys from Dances With Wolves?  His name was/is Michael Spears.  Well, he’s grown up and is as handsome as ever.  This is Michael Spears with bow in hand off to the left.  His brother, Eddie, is also an actor and they are both Lakota.  Here’s another picture of Michael.  Another handsome young actor.  His brother, Eddie, is also an actor.  Eddie’s picture is the black and white next to his brother, Michael.  Interestingly once when I was at a pow-wow, there were Native actors there signing their pictures on a calendar — I bought the calendar and had several sign their pictures and among those were both Eddie and Michael Spears.  They were very young at the time (both of them), but already very handsome.

Okay, and now here’s another one of my favorite Native American actors — and for any of you who have seen the movie, Cheyenne Warrior,  you will immediately recognize Pato Hoffman.

I think I fell in love with that movie Cheyenne Warrior.  Made in the late 90’s I believe, it remains one of my favorite movies to date.  It also stars a very young and beautiful blond bombshell, Kelly Preston, who is none other than John Travolta’s wife.  In this movie, Pato plays Soars-like-a-hawk, or simply, Hawk, who is a kinda smart-talking Cheyenne warrior, who is nursed back to health by Kelly, who husband has died (not at the hands of Indians, but rather at the hands of a dishonest buffalo hunter).  It is not only an action movie, but a romance, although not a strict romance, as it doesn’t end as I would have liked it to end.  You can still order this movie from Amazon, I believe, so if you haven’t seen it, I would het ahold of it and watch this wonderful movie.

Nowbefore I end this blog, I think it wouldn’t be complete without taking a look at a friend of mine, Steve Reevis.  Steve is Blackfeet and has helped me considerably in the past when I and a few others were setting up a literacy project on the Blackfeet reservation.  He donated his time and energy and will always be remembered by me with great fondness.  In the picture below, Steve is dressed to dance the grass dance and he is sixth from the right — I’m standing on the end on the right.  Steve’s wife, Macile stands to his right.

Okay, I left out one very wonderful man.  So here is a picture of the very incredible man in my life.  Yes, this was taken several years ago when my husband and I were first married.  But it remains one of my favorite photos of him — taken of course by me.  Off to the right are Paul and I in Montana, on the Blackfeet reservation, with Chief Mountain in the background. 

So, my question is, what are your thoughts on this?  Have you seen these men on the screen, and if so, do you have a favorite?  For me, it would be hard to pick just one of them.  They are all of them outstanding.  But come on in and let’s talk.  Let me know what you think of these very handsome American Indian boys.

Good Morning!

I’ve been out of town for about 1 1/2 weeks — again, I’m in Florida, but this time only for 2-3 weeks hopefully — much shorter than last time, when I was away from home for a total of about 16 months.  Whew!

Well, although it’s not true that I travel by horseback when I go out of town, it is true that I would rather drive than fly or take a train.  Why?  The answer is easy:  The countryside.  There are so many things to see and places to visit and history to learn — all conveniently advertised along the roadside.  On my trips across country (and I’ve probably driven across country now more than a dozen times) I’ve seen canyons that stretch on forever (the Grand Canyon comes to mind); I’ve seen caves — two enormous different ones — and have learned that the rocks in these caves are alive.  Did you know that?  They grow like any life thing and they can die if you touch them — thus, there are many, many signs in these caves not to touch the rocks.

As part of these trips, I’ve been to pow-wows in Montana, climbed mountains in Vermont, swept down raging water streams in Nebraska — have witnessed glaciers in Montana and have visited Pueblo villages — in the southwest, and have visited and have lingered at battlefields — ones that took place between the cavalry and Indians.  When we were in Crow country in Montana, my husband and I visited Little Bighorn of Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull fame.  For one book, War Clouds’ Passion, I visited the battlefield that took place — goodness, I can’t recall the name of that battle off the top of my head – but it took place in Kansas.  Also discovered in Kansas was a former Cavalry outpost, and again, forgive me for the name escapes me.   

On one particular trip, I visited a waterfall, where George Washington carved his initals in a rock — there was also an Indian village there, which I went to visit, also.  There I learned how the Indians made flour and cakes from acorns — a very involved process, I must admit.  Sometimes I get lost.  But sometimes this is very good.   On one trip just last year at this very time of year, I was traveling to Vermont to attend my daughter’s wedding. 

Actually  I didn’t lose my way on this trip until I was well into Vermont, and then I took a wrong turn and ended up at the scene of a very beautiful statue of Ethan Allen.  Although I was very lost, I had driven into a spot where the trees were alive with autumn color and I really do mean live.  They were bright, bright yellow and gold.  So bright that an overcast day looked sunny.  And the trees were overlooking the road as I drove by them.  I’m not certain I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful in Nature.  The only thing that might even come close would be perhaps the Grand Teton area in Wyoming — and of course the Glacier Mountains in Montana.

The picture here was taken in Montana in the Glacier Mountains which set up against the Blackfeet reservation.  Once another author and myself visited a deserted train station — trying to envision the people who had once used it.  Another time we searched out a town in Louisana called Transylvania.  Nancy Richards Akers and I once skirted along the Choctaw trail and another author and I learned of a legend of a young Indian princess who threw herself off a mountain to avoid marrying a man she didn’t love.  (Her true lover followed her over the cliff, by the way).  And another time, fellow author, Heather Cullman, and I visited Sky City — I’m only calling it that because I can’t recall exactly the name of the town.  Here we were taken on a tour, learned the history of the town and learned that the town was used as a safe refuge in a time of uncertainty.

We also visited an old church which was again fascinating.  Indeed, there is much to see and visit here in America.  When I was very, very young, I seem to remember a commerical that went like this “See the USA, in your Cheverolet — American is asking you to call” — Perhaps I took tha invitation to heart.

Another time, when my husband and I were attending yet another pow-wow in Montana, we visited  America’s edition of Stonehedge — the Medicine Wheel atop a 10,000 foot mountain in the Bighorn Mountains in Northern Wyoming.  Lone Arrow’s Pride goes into my experience atop this mountain at this particular spot.

I guess we Americans — or maybe I should just say we humans — love to travel.  And whatever the cause, I do enjoy my trips — even though it might take me longer to go from here to there.  I bet you’ve had some incredible adventures here in the heartland of America.  And I’d love to hear about your own trips.  So please come on in and let’s chat.  And don’t forget to pick up your copy of Black Eagle today.

Hello friend!

Han Kola! (Lakota)  Oki Napi! (Blackfeet)  Rockste!  Friends (Iroquois)  Pave-eseeva! — Good morning!  (Cheyenne)  Ka-hee hii-la!  (hello young lady) (Crow)

Now, please bear with me.  I’m not an expert on this subject, but in writing books about the above tribes, I have collected together a bit of their language.  How one pronounces some of these words is best learned by going amongst the various tribes and listening and paying attention when they are speaking their own language.

But I thought it might be fun to have a look at some catch phrases from the various tribes. 

While I won’t be able to say the same thing in all languages, here’s a few phrases:

Lakota:  Hello!  Women (Han)  Men (Hau — pronounced how)

                   How are you? I am fine.

                    Toniktuka hwo?  Ma tanyan yelo.

Crow:  It rained yesterday.

               Huuleesh xalaak.

Did you know that for the Crow and the Navajo, English is a second language?

Blackfeet:  I said it.  It is good.

                                                     Nitanistoo pa.  Soak piiwa.

Here’s another one:  Cheyenne:  Let’s talk Cheyenne!

                                                                   Ne-tat-tsehese-nestse-ma!

Iroquois:  When will you come again?

                       Catteges issewe?

Okay, now I’m going to teach you one that I use alot.  It’s phrase in English is simly “Good.”  Its use is to acknowledge something someone else has said or to simply say something is good. 

The sign language is:  This is from the online dictionary by William Tomkins (picture of the book cover below):  “GOOD (meaning: level with the heart). Hold the flat right hand, back up, in front of and close to left breast, pointing to left; move hand briskly well out to front and to right, keeping it in a horizontal plane.”  

As you do the above directions, one then says at the same time (depending on what tribe you are talking to):

Soka-pii (Blackfeet)

Oyendere (Iroquois)

E-peva e (Cheyenne)

It-che (Crow)

Waste’ (Lakota or Sioux)

I truly hope I have intrigued you.  One of the most fun things I’ve learned is a bit of sign language (this picture off to the side by the way is of myself and Patricia Running Crane Devereaux at Glacier Nat’l Park — right next to the Blackfeet rez).  If you are intrigued by language or sign language, here are some books you might think of purchasing:

I have both of these books and they are terrific — great for learning, great for obtaining a little bit of first hand history and great for research.  And of course, if you’re considering buying books at all, let’s not forget this one:

I will be on the road this day of posting, but do stop by and leave a message.  Other fillies will be checking in and will really enjoy talking to you.

Have a super and magical day!   Nitanistoo pa.  Soak piiwa.