2019 JULY 5 —–
We left Drumheller early on 5 July and were headed to Head Smashed in Buffalo Jump near Fort Macleod. It was a 3 hour drive and eventually we all needed to stop for a bathroom break and some refreshment. We took our break at Vulcan, Alberta.
Vulcan’s claim to fame is it is the official Star Trek Capital of Canada. It has a statue of the original series Enterprise along Highway 23 and its tourist information building looks like a space station. Inside the information building is a myriad of Star Trek memorabilia and souvenirs. Even the bathrooms have Men, Women & Alien. It was a whimsical stop. We all bought some silly souvenir before carrying on.
We got to Head Smashed in Buffalo Jump to semi-blue sky weather. We entered the museum part to find a man beating on a traditional hide and sinew drum, and singing. The sound of the drum and singing is very unique and hauntingly beautiful. He had a small hand-held drum. If it had been the big drum we would have felt the percussion reverberating in our chest. He showed us videos on his cell phone of himself competing in a traditional chicken dance at a local PowWow. He explained the violent, random beats on the big drum, and the singing that has no lyrics, but comes from within. We left him and carried on up the levels to see and read about life on the prairies, before the white-man.
For nearly 6000 years Native American Indians would come from as far away as the Pacific Coast to hunt. With thousands of years of experience, the Blackfoot were experts at killing buffalo. They devised buffalo pounds (wooden corrals) and buffalo jumps, where they would drive the huge beasts over the sandstone cliffs. In the Blackfoot language, both methods were called Pis’kum – literally meaning “deep kettle of blood”. That is a rather gruesome description of what went on.
Summer allowed small groups to travel hundreds of kilometres to visit relatives, to trade and to gather other material for tools or decoration. It was also the season for war in defending or obtaining territory and property. But it was also the season for forming peace alliances. Parents arranged marriages for their sons. Old friendships rekindled. News was shared. And hunts, possibly, organized.
Autumn was the best time for the large communal hunt. The buffalo were fat after grazing all summer, the hides had thick winter hair in preparation for winter, the males were off on their own after mating thereby leaving the calmer cows and calves, and the cooler weather would help slow spoilage.
There was a lot of preparation that went into the hunt. For days, the buffalo would be watched and gently herded closer to the jump cliffs. In the meantime, workers would repair the “drive lane” that was used over and over again through hundreds of years of the great hunt. The drive lanes consisted of hundreds of cairns – mounds of rough stones dressed with buffalo chips, sod and branches. The cairns were spaced 5-10 metres apart and stretched for kilometres from the gathering basin. They were built in a huge funnel shape, narrowing at the cliff edge. Buffalo have poor eyesight and saw the cairns as solid walls and therefore kept moving deeper into the funnel towards the cliff. As the buffalo got really close to the cliff edge one man disguised as a young buffalo, by throwing a young buffalo hide over his back, would make the bleating sound of a lost calf. Buffalo are social animals lead by dominant females and rely on each other for protection. At the sound of a lost calf the entire herd would make its way toward the sound of distress, which was further still into the funnel. In the meantime, other men would have wolf and coyote skins over their backs.
Buffalo have a keen sense of smell and the scent of a wolf is a threat. These buffalo runners would come up behind the herd to force them forward toward the cliff edge. The herd would run in a tight pack, following the lead cows which are still going toward the distressed “calf”. At the precise moment men would jump up between the narrowing cairns and create a wall of outstretched hides, further panicking the herd. The “wolves” would begin to chase the herd, causing them to stampede. The distressed “calf” would escape behind the curtain at the last moment. The panicked, stampeding, and poor sighted buffalo would fall over the edge of the cliff, dropping 10 metres (33 ft) to their death. The weight of the herd crushing any that may have survived. Animals that did not die immediately were killed with arrows, spears, and clubs by men on the ground. Tradition dictated that if a buffalo escaped it would warn the others and the next hunt would fail.
A successful hunt probably killed hundreds of buffalo, but not all hunts were successful. Any number of things could go wrong. Occasionally, some hunters lost their lives. The name Head Smashed in Buffalo Jump comes from a legend that says a little boy wanted to see the buffalo fall over the cliff so he hid just below the edge. He was found dead, buried under the buffalo, with his head smashed in.
The carcasses were processed in a nearby camp. It was an efficient pre-historic factory. Some skinned the animal, others prepared the hides to be used for clothing and tipis. Some hacked up the animal, while others hung meat to dry, and others boiled the fat and marrow from the bones. The process of boiling off the fat without the benefit of a copper pot was ingenious. A hollow was made in the ground and lined with an animal hide and filled with water. Hot stones were deposited into the hide-pot and repeatedly changed until the fat melted and the marrow came out. A successful hunt could bring enough food to see the tribes through the winter, even the children had their jobs. They could pick the berries that were needed to add to the pulverized dried meat and fat to make pemmican.
The preparation for the hunt and the processing of the animals took weeks. The people lived in tipis made of tanned buffalo hides sewn together with sinew. It took 12-18 hides to make a single tipi. They only lasted about two years before it had to be replaced – another reason a successful hunt was important. The frame of the tipi was made from long straight-growing trees. The Lodgepole pine takes its name from being the preferred tree. Four poles were lashed together at the top and made to stand. Once sturdy, 15-20 other poles were placed around the frame to form a circle. The covering hide was tied to the tops of two poles and wrapped around the circular frame. A rope was tied to the top and anchored to the ground to secure the tipi against the wind. Two movable flaps at the top could be positioned to catch a breeze and also to let smoke out of the tipi. In the winter, the tipi had an extra layer to provide better protection from the cold. A fire in the middle was used for heat and cooking in bad weather. The family slept around the perimeter.
They were often beautifully decorated. Tipi paintings were powerful and sacred. The images often came in a dream or a vision and were considered spirit guides to the family. The bottom was painted with hills and mountains, the middle with animals, and the top with sky and stars. The designs were the property of the family (copyrighted) and could only be transferred in a special ceremony. Only those with proper authority and knowledge could paint a tipi. They were portable, durable, easy to assemble and take down. They could be dragged along by people or dogs using travois. The introduction of the horse in the 1700s made transporting tipis and other property much easier.
When the first hunts began around 6000 years ago, the cliff was about 20 metres (66 ft) high. Natural erosion of the sandstone cliffs caused rock and rubble to build up. Modern excavation has found 10 metres of bone piled up, as well.
SIDE NOTE: The Blackfoot broke off into three separate tribes – Blackfoot, Blood, and Peigan. The Plains Indians traditional territory spread from the North Saskatchewan River south to Yellowstone River and from the Rocky Mountains east to the Great Sand Hills of Saskatchewan. Their reservations are now limited to Gleichen (east of Calgary), and Standoff and Brocket (south-west of Lethbridge). Archaeological evidence has them on the Great Plains for 11,000 years.
We all know the story of the white-man coming in and killing the buffalo for sport, leaving the priceless meat and hides to rot. Within 20 years, the cornerstone of the Great Plains Indians had disappeared. The devastation of a centuries old culture went even further. Kill sites were dug up and the bones (and any archaeological history) was shipped away to make fertilizer. Part of the cliff at Head Smashed In was quarried for sandstone. Farming destroyed what remained of the drive lanes and the gathering basin.
Having moved up through the seven levels of the museum, we then exited on top of the cliff. The interpretive centre is built to blend with the surrounding landscape, and much of the centre is underground. We walked to the lookout over the actual jump spot. It was beautiful!! The grassy ridge ends abruptly, giving way to a rocky abyss. Looking at the jump from this angle, it is easy to see how the beast never stood a chance once it flew over the edge. Then to imagine there is, to this day, 10 metres of compacted bones under the grass and shrubs was incredible. Looking off to the east, the prairie stretches for miles and miles, until it faded into a distant horizon. It is easy to see how the buffalo would have not seen the edge of the cliff when in full gallop. The grass just seemed to change density a bit. There was no indication of a deadly drop.
We had a bison burger on baked bannok for lunch in the cafeteria. On our way out of the museum, I talked with a gentleman who told me that this entire museum and site is on Native Lands and run by the Native People. He said the best way to smudge one’s house is to burn sage to get rid of the bad spirits, then to burn sweet grass to call in the good spirits. But if I really wanted to get rid of bad spirits, I should burn sweet pine. Bad spirits don’t like sweet pine, and will leave for good. He also taught me how to say “see you later” in his native language – GA ta ma tsin.
We were all done at Head Smashed In so we headed to Fort Macleod.
An Old Lady with a Backpack 
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