Pine Leaf: Heroine of the Crow Nation

Crow Warrior

If one were to compile a list of all the great warriors of the various Native American tribes, the list would likely stretch out to the hundred yard line at a rifle range. Each group had their heroes who earned their titles and prestige through daring and skill that many civilized men find to be within the realm of the fantastic. And yet many of these men existed and their deeds were indeed real.

The Crow Nation was never short on their heroes. But a much lesser known fighter, but one of their best, was not a man but one of their women! Her name was Pine Leaf, or Bar-chee-am-pe in Crow tongue. She was not like most women, bound in marriage to do her husband's bidding at every beck and call with no ambitions of her own. On the contrary, she was a singular anomaly, boasting one of the most heroic hearts of the frontier.

Her memory is preserved only through the glowing accounts of the autobiographical book by Jim Beckwourth when he lived among the Crow. Although even at this time he had multiple wives with them, none elicited the sensations of admiration, respect and love that Pine Leaf did.

In his own words he describes her thus: "For an Indian, she possessed great intellectual powers. She was endowed with extraordinary muscular strength, with the activity of a cat and the speed of the antelope. Her features were pleasing, and her form symmetrical. She had lost a brother in the attack on our village before mentioned- a great brave, and her twin brother. He was a fine specimen of the race of red men, and bade fair to rise to distinction; but he was struck down in his strength, and Pine Leaf was left to avenge his death. She was at that time twelve years of age, and she solemnly vowed that she would never marry until she had killed a hundred of the enemy with her own hand. Whenever a war-party started, Pine Leaf was the first to volunteer to accompany them. Her presence among them caused much amusement to the old veterans' but if she lacked physical strength, she always rode the fleetest horses, and none of the warriors could outstrip her. All admired her for her ambition, and as she advanced in years, many of the braves grew anxious for the speedy accomplishment of her vow."

"She had chosen my party to serve in, and when I engaged in the fiercest struggles, no one was more promptly at my side than file young heroine. She seemed incapable of fear; and when she arrived at womanhood, she could fire a gun without flinching, and use the Indian weapons with as great dexterity as the most accomplished warrior. I began to feel more than a common attachment toward her. Her intelligence charmed me, and her modest and becoming demeanor singled her out from her sex."

Truly, this is glowing praise from a man who was revered later on as one of the greatest of the mountain men and became a leading chief of the Crows, a man who's life was never short of adventure or bravery. One can absolutely feel the unvarnished admiration he and everyone else felt for her, and it's not surprising that he sought for her to be one of his wives.

Here we find that she was not only wise in warfare, but in games of the heart as well. After much coaxing Pine Leaf agreed to marry him when the pine needles turned yellow. Jim not unreasonably thought that this meant autumn and carried on his way, no doubt eagerly awaiting the coming season. A time after this though it occurred to him that evergreen needles don't change color with the seasons! Upon mentioning this to her she only smiled, laughed, and set another strange condition upon which to marry him.

Even with this coquettish drama taking place his desire for her grew. But juxtaposing this was frequent and bloody warfare. Always Pine Leaf was near the fore and in the thickest fighting. In one battle with the Black Feet things went poorly. Many braves and even some accompanying white trappers were killed. It looked as if the end were upon them, and what was worse, it was in the dead of winter. As Jim put it: "This was my Russian campaign."

Yet they survived, but not without a great deal of loss. In fact, in this battle Pine Leaf was reduced to having only eight fingers. She lost a knuckle from a pinky finger from a Black Foot bullet on her right hand. The other on her left hand she had amputated as a sign of mourning when her brother was killed. It was the custom among the Crow women to amputate a finger upon the death of a husband or brother.

On another excursion fate had directed Jim away from his Crow family for several years. It wasn't without reason that they assumed him dead, as was rather common at that time along the frontier, killed from frost or foe. When he returned all were naturally overjoyed, nor was Pine Leaf an exception. And yet when he was gone her fiery flame never wavered. Upon his return Jim learned that she had believed him dead, but was only biding her time trying to discover which rival tribe had killed her friend so that she might avenge him. Perhaps it was a blessing to all of those other tribes that Jim had simply gone missing. One can only imagine how many scalps she collected over the death of her brother alone.

This all sounds very centered upon Jim's relationship with Pine Leaf, but it must be remembered that all we know of her comes from his writings, so it is only natural that much of it would be from his own accounts and perspective.

The last mention of her came through most unfortunate circumstances. Jim Beckwourth was still in the employ of a trapping company and at last decided to take his leave of his Crow companions and traveled to Saint Louis. Then, for reasons beyond my ken, another group of trappers fell in with the Crows and told them that the President and others were angry with Jim because of his befriending of the tribe, and murdered him as punishment. Evidently they thought this was a most splendid joke and took joy at their horror. It was a wonder that the group wasn't slaughtered on the spot. It may easily be imagined that this did not put the tribe in a good mood. Their beloved friend, family member and chief murdered on account of being kind to them? In spite of all he had done to keep the peace between them? This boded poorly for every white man between the Crows and the Atlantic.

They set on the warpath and were ready to scalp any white man they came across and sought to start with a trapping outpost which just happened to have some of Jim's friends present inside. After a strong showing they managed to stall for time and come to an agreement: Give them a chance to prove that Jim was still alive by sending a messenger to bring him back. If he didn't arrive, the Crows could kill them all. A rather steep bargain, but it was the only one the trappers had available. And sure enough, Jim returned, much disgruntled by the whole affair, although glad that no one had been killed during his swift return.

The Crows were delighted to learn that he was alive, but were soon downcast by his depressed behavior. Nor is it any wonder. He must have felt that he had only turned his back for a week before war broke out. He had done all he could to prevent conflict and yet at the first provocation, albeit quite understandable, they were moved to aggression. Perhaps Jim felt that he was a sort of prisoner, always having to hold others in check to prevent needless slaughter. He desired to return to civilization and marry a woman there who he sought to support through his trapping. The Crows desired him to stay and continue leading them. And it is here that Pine Leaf sought to save both groups by sacrificing that which she valued the most: Her independence.

The words she used to conclude her long and wonderfully storied career were many, but here are among the strongest: "I said I would kill one hundred foes before I married any living man. I have more than kept my word, as our great chief and medicine men can tell you. As my arm increased in strength, the enemy learned to fear me. I have accomplished the task I set before me; henceforward I leave the war-paths of my people; I have fought my last battle, and hurled my last lance; I am a warrior no more."

"I am about to sacrifice what I have always chosen to preserve- my liberty. The back of my steed has been my lodge and my home. On his back, armed with my lance and battle-axe, I knew no fear. The medicine chief, when fighting by my side, has displayed a noble courage and a lofty spirit, and he won from my heart, what no other warrior has ever won, the promise to marry him when my vow was fulfilled. He has done much for our people; he has fought their enemies, and spilled his blood for them. When I shall become his wife, I shall be fond and faithful to him. My heart feels pure before the Great Spirit and the sun. When I shall no more on the war-path, obey the voice of the Medicine Calf, and you will grow stronger and stronger; we shall continue and a happy people, and he will leave us no more. I have done." 

What brave words and sacrifice from one who had for so long been a warrior of repute and independence! The woman who had tread the path of the warrior gave up what she loved most to preserve her people and attach one of its leaders to them. What gallantry and selflessness! Indeed, the two were shortly thereafter wed together. But sadly, her sacrifice was in vain. Difficulties with the American Fur Company made returning for business a financial impossibility. What was more Jim Beckwourth had exhausted himself of the life he had led. There was never truly peace. Only breaks between warfare with other tribes. Always he and others had to watch over their horses to prevent them from being stolen by the thousands. Always they were careful when traveling, for at any moment they might run into hereditary enemies and receive an arrow, tomahawk or bullet. There was never truly rest.

And so he went a different path, and left his much sought after and worthy bride adrift after only five weeks of being married. He confirms that thereafter he never saw her again. Although this event took place well over a century ago, my heart aches at this sad and inconclusive ending to the splendid legend and warrior Pine Leaf. What must she have felt when she realized that her love wasn't to ever return? How many months or years did she wait? Did she regret her decision to give up on being a warrior, to effectively live as a widow? To be left after he had fought so hard to win her heart?

It pains the soul to think of this, but it does nothing to tarnish the heroine's reputation. Whatever end she truly met, her life and deeds have lived on. I consider myself richer for knowing her story, and I hope that all of you who have read this feel the same.

For Pine Leaf: Heroine of the Crow!