The Great Spirit’s Empty Promise

There was a time in the dead days of the dim past when the Great Spirit of the Happy Hunting Grounds fashioned the seasons and stocked the streams and woods to suit the convenience of His children. But that was before the tomahawk and the flint-tipped arrow had found ignominy in the museum or palefaces wrote laws on paper and put brass buttons on the men who were to enforce them. In those days the Medicine Men entreated, and the Great Spirit granted; today, even the Great Spirit seems to have deserted the original owners of this country. In other words, the Yakima Indians are posing for the artist who draws those “when-a-feller-needs-a-friend” pictures. Some time ago, the Indians agreed to abide by the state supreme court’s ruling that they had no right to fish at the dam across the Yakima River at Prosser, if the state game warden would permit them to have one great final feast. The day was set and the guests invited but the salmon failed to arrive. The feast day was moved ahead and again last Saturday the Indians and the game wardens assembled in Prosser. And again the Great Spirit failed to smile in benediction upon the occasion. He sent “heap big” water down the Yakima and “tenas” salmon up it and again the feast was a failure. In view of all the circumstances, the Indians will probably be permitted to have another fish day.