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Updated: April 30, 2025
Naza! rope musk-ox; rope White Manitou of Great Slave Naza! Naza!" "Naza!" replied the Navajo, pointing to the North Star; "no no." "Yes me big paleface me come long way toward setting sun go cross Big Water go Buckskin Siwash chase cougar." The cougar, or mountain lion, is a Navajo god and the Navajos hold him in as much fear and reverence as do the Great Slave Indians the musk-ox.
Never will the chiefs permit the white man to take musk-oxen alive from their country. The Ageter, the Musk-ox, is their god. He gives them food and fur. He will never come back if he is taken away, and the reindeer will follow him. The chiefs and their people would starve. They command the pale-face hunter to go back. They cry Naza! Naza! Naza!"
"Say, for a thousand miles I've heard that word Naza!" returned the hunter, with mingled curiosity and disgust. "At Edmonton Indian runners started ahead of me, and every village I struck the redskins would crowd round me and an old chief would harangue at me, and motion me back, and point north with Naza! Naza! Naza! What does it mean?"
Both men shook their heads in answer. The savage struck his breast a sounding blow and with his index finger pointed at the white of the north, he shouted dramatically: "Naza! Naza! Naza!" He then leaped upon his sled, lashed his dogs into a run, and without looking back disappeared over a ridge. The musk-ox hunters sat long silent. Finally Rea shook his shaggy locks and roared. "Ho! Ho!
A strange stillness enfolded his feature the tranquility earned from a long life of adventure. He held up both muscular hands to the Navajo, and spread out his fingers. "Rope buffalo heap big buffalo heap many one sun." The Indian straightened up, but kept his friendly smile. "Me big chief," went on Jones, "me go far north Land of Little Sticks Naza!
"Jackoway out of wood! Jackoway out of wood!" Then he choked. The north wind, blowing through the thin, dark, weird spruce trees, moaned and seemed to sigh, "Naza! Naza! Naza!" "Who all was doin' the talkin' last night?" asked Frank next morning, when we were having a late breakfast. "Cause I've a joke on somebody.
The hunter paused a steady moment, with his eyelids narrowing over slits of blue fire. "There is no law to keep me out, nothing but Indian superstition and Naza! And the greed of the Hudson's Bay people. I am an old fox, not to be fooled by pretty baits. For years the officers of this fur-trading company have tried to keep out explorers.
He got a cold response, which ended in the ragged old chief starting up, stretching a long, dark arm northward, and with eyes fixed in fanatical subjection, shouting: "Naza! Naza! Naza!" "Heathen!" Rea shook his gun in the faces of the messengers. "It'll go bad with you to come Nazain' any longer on our trail. Come, Buff, clear out before I get mad."
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