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Updated: May 29, 2025
In May they returned on the swollen streams with heavily freighted canoes to their villages of bark houses. During the summer there were many tasks blue berries to be gathered in the woods, canoes to be built, tepees to be repaired, turnips to be dug, and pipestone to be brought from the far distant quarry.
The fame of the baptismal robe and the white kid shoes had gone far and wide over the prairie, and they were talked of from the valley of the Missouri to Devil's Lake, and from the pipestone country to the reservations.
The flight of the wild things from the triangle of forest between the junctions of the Pipestone and Cree Rivers would have begun then, but the wind shifted. It was a fatal shift. The fire was raging from the west and south. Then the wind swept straight eastward, carrying the smoke with it, and during this breathing spell all the wild creatures in the triangle between the two rivers waited.
A gun was fired and the strange procession set out for the Mandan villages. In this fashion white men first took possession of the Upper Missouri. Some miles from the lodges a band of old chiefs met De la Vérendrye and gravely handed him a grand calumet of pipestone ornamented with eagle feathers. This typified peace. De la Vérendrye ordered his fifty French followers to draw up in line.
He carried copper from the mines on the shores of Lake Superior; the horns of the moose, elk, and deer; robes of the buffalo, the wolf, and kindred animals. Among his merchandise were masses of red pipestone from the sacred quarries east of the Missouri.
"You have been out," he said. "Why didn't you invite me to go with you?" "It was a part of our night's business to be alone," responded Jean. "Josephine was with me. She is in her room now with the baby." "Does Adare know you have returned?" "Josephine has told him. He is to believe that I went out to see a trapper over on the Pipestone." "It is strange," mused Philip, speaking half to himself.
Floyd River, which flows into the Upper Missouri, in the northwest corner of Iowa, still marks the last resting-place of Sergeant Charles Floyd, who died there of bilious colic and was buried by his comrades near the mouth of the stream. Near here was a quarry of red pipestone, dear to the Indian fancy as a mine of material for their pipes; traces of this deposit still remain.
So his feet carried him steadily westward, while the invisible hands tugged at him from behind. He did not go straight to Fond du Lac, but spent nearly three weeks with a trapper whom he ran across on the Pipestone River. It was June when he struck Fond du Lac, and he remained there a month.
"Numma tao, ookimow." "Gone!" exclaimed Adare. "He didn't want to disturb you last night," explained Philip. "He made an early start for the Pipestone." "If he was an ordinary man, I'd say he was in love with one of the Langlois girls," said Adare, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Neah, Metoosin! Make them comfortable, and we will all see them later."
A snake having crawled into this nest to steal the unhatched thunders, Manitou caught up a piece of pipestone, hastily pressed it between his hands, giving it the shape of a man, and flung it at the reptile. The stone man's feet stuck fast in the ground, and there he stood for a thousand years, growing like a tree and drawing strength and knowledge out of the earth.
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