The Journal of American Folk-lore. Vol. VI.—July-September, 1893.—No. XXII

In Short

This journal volume functions as a scholarly archive of human tradition, cataloging the vanishing myths of the Blood Indians alongside analyses of universal games like Mancala and European folk customs. By gathering oral narratives—ranging from creation myths to ghost stories—and surveying international research on social history, the publication serves as a bridge between the rapid industrialization of the late 1800s and the ancestral memories of tribal and rural cultures. It has lasted as a vital primary source for anthropologists and historians studying the preservation of identity amidst global cultural shifts.

The Story

The journal opens with a sense of urgency regarding the preservation of the Blackfoot Indian Confederacy’s oral traditions. The narrative arc begins with the figure of Napioa, the Creator, who shapes the earth from mud provided by a turtle and populates it with people. These early myths detail the origins of the buffalo, the wind, and the social structures of the tribe. The focus then shifts to the cautionary and often brutal nature of these legends, such as the tale of the "fated stick"—a piece of wood that mysteriously reappears until it is eventually used to support the coffin of a woman who dies shortly after the stick is ignored.

As the journal progresses, the scope widens from localized tribal lore to broader studies of human play. A significant portion of the text is dedicated to the ethnographical analysis of games. The progression here is methodical: it moves from simple games of skill and chance—like jacks or the board game Mancala—to the complex, culturally rooted lottery systems of China. The text argues that these games are not merely pastimes but mirrors of political and social institutions, revealing how different civilizations, from the Aztecs to the Arabs, developed parallel methods for appealing to fortune.

The final segments of the volume transition into a comparative survey of folklore. Here, the focus falls on the "survivals" of ancient rituals in modern settings, such as the hunting of the wren in Ireland or the street cries of London. The journal concludes by detailing the broader landscape of late-nineteenth-century research, providing an exhaustive list of international publications and ongoing field projects. This arc, moving from the specific, singular creation myths of a reservation in Alberta to the global, interconnected web of academic study, mirrors the era’s endeavor to map the human experience in its entirety, ultimately highlighting both the poetic beauty of oral traditions and the scientific rigor of those tasked with recording them.

How It Unfolds

The gathering of myths The opening sections detail the difficulty of collecting folklore from the Blood Indians, noting that only the oldest members of the tribe could be trusted to recount myths accurately. The text establishes the fragility of these stories in the face of settlement and the death of traditional chiefs.

The cycles of creation and survival The narrative moves through the deeds of Napioa, detailing how he created the world, the buffalo, and the first people. These stories transition into accounts of survival, where mythical figures and animals interact in ways that explain the origins of natural phenomena.

The intrusion of the supernatural Ghost stories and tales of the uncanny disrupt the orderly progression, moving the reader into the realm of rural superstition. The account of the haunted grove and the fated stick illustrates how folk belief functioned as a tool for understanding tragedy and fate.

The global study of play The focus shifts to an analytical survey of games as cultural artifacts. Descriptions of Chinese lotteries, Arabic boards, and American Indian dice games demonstrate the universal human impulse to codify chance and competition.

The catalog of traditions The volume concludes by surveying the state of folklore studies worldwide, from Finnish poetry to Belgian superstition. It frames these individual collections as pieces of a larger, global effort to document human history before it is lost.

The People

Napioa, the central figure in the Blackfoot creation myths, is a complex, non-ancestral Creator who is double-jointed and resides in a southern sea. He functions as both a maker and a trickster, whose interactions with early humanity define the boundaries of social and practical life.

Mary, a character in a Canadian ghost story, represents the intersection of the modern domestic sphere and ancient, fatalistic belief. Her struggle against a "fated stick" that seems to predict her death highlights the power of superstition in small, isolated communities.

Grandmother O-ne-ha-tah serves as a wise, aging mediator in tribal narratives, attempting to find a guardian for a young boy amidst a group of animal figures. She represents the necessity of passing down responsibilities when the older generation can no longer physically care for the young.

The anonymous collectors and researchers, such as the narrator of the ghost stories, act as the bridge between the reader and the subjects. They are often self-conscious, admitting to their own fears when hearing ghost stories or their reliance on the testimony of the aged, reflecting the era’s blend of scientific observation and personal, often apprehensive, engagement with the unknown.

In Its Own Voice

"The separation of the tribes, the rapid settlement of the country by the white people, the death of many of the old chiefs, and the depressed spirits of the people have seriously impaired the purity of the folk-lore of the natives."

The author notes the precarious state of indigenous traditions in the late nineteenth century.

"I was tempted to try and relate it at length in this paper, but found that I could not do so without supplying from fancy what would take the place of forgotten details."

The narrator admits the difficulty of accurately documenting folklore when memory fades.

"The bear was so frightened when he saw her coming, that he let go his hold, fell from the tree, and was killed."

This comes from the conclusion of a humorous animal fable that was a favorite among Indian children.

What It's Really About

The volume explores the tension between tradition and modernity. It argues that folklore is not merely a collection of quaint stories, but a vital, living record of how different cultures structure their reality. The underlying question is one of preservation: how can researchers extract the "pure" essence of a myth or a ritual when the social conditions that birthed them are rapidly disintegrating? It treats human play and superstition as scientific data, suggesting that the games we play and the ghosts we fear are universal constants that reveal more about our shared social and political history than written records often can.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of anthropology or the raw, unpolished nature of oral storytelling will find this a fascinating document. It is a rare, direct line to the 1890s, capturing the voices of indigenous elders and rural storytellers before their traditions were further mediated by later generations. The prose is clear and earnest, reflecting the genuine, if sometimes detached, curiosity of a Victorian-era academic.

However, readers should be prepared for the limitations of the time. The text reflects the colonial attitudes of its period, often viewing these traditions through the lens of a "vanishing" culture. Furthermore, the writing style varies from academic rigor to personal, occasionally subjective, anecdote. You will encounter dialects and archaic structures that demand patience. Despite these challenges, the book rewards the reader with haunting, vivid imagery—the "tap, tap, tapping" in a haunted wood or the solemn burial of a wren. It leaves you with a profound sense of the weight of human memory and the quiet, persistent effort required to ensure these stories do not disappear entirely. It is a book for those who want to see the foundations of the field of folklore, warts and all, as it struggled to define itself at the close of a century.