This is a story about a Blackfeet warrior named Running Eagle. Also known as the “Brown Weasel Woman,” this badass was born in the mid-eighteen hundreds into the Piikáni Piegan Tribe of the Blackfeet Nation, near the Canadian border.
By all accounts, Running Eagle did not follow gender norms1, preferring fighting and hunting to cooking and sewing. Their father, a well-respected warrior in his own right, honored their gift and it paid off when, on a Buffalo hunt an enemy tribe attacked the hunting party. As they fled, Running Eagle’s father's horse was shot. Running Eagle raced straight into enemy fire and pulled him onto a horse, saving his life. After this victory, Running Eagle was celebrated and allowed to sing the Victory Song, and a Scalp Dance was done in their honor.
But when Running Eagle’s parents finally did pass, instead of going the expected trad wife route and taking over the household matriarchal duties, Running Eagle doubled down with the warrior stuff, which pissed some of the older generation off. What if other women followed that lead?2 That Brown Weasel Woman was a bad influence. And yet, also a true badass. What a dilemma!
Despite objections, Running Eagle tagged along on a raid to steal back the tribe’s horses from some thieving Crow, and guess what? This excellent warrior not only came away with eleven of them, but shot a couple of Crow who tried to steal them back.
Again, Running Eagle was honored and what not, but some were still skeptical, so the elders decided to send Running Eagle on a four-day vision quest—unprecedented for a woman.
When the warrior returned, Running Eagle reported a vision of the Sun. Whereby the Sun promising to give them great power in battle, as long as the warrior never slept with a man3. Running Eagle went on to lead dozens of battles and proved to be one of the tribe’s greatest warriors. But like all heroic types, eventually, somebody got the best of them. Some Flathead warrior named Zamalya.
It is rumored among the Blackfeet that Running Eagle died in battle because the Sun stopped this protection because the warrior had broken a vow and slept with a man in the war party4.
So that brings me to today. The day set aside for fireworks and wieners and beer pounding. Celebratin’ ‘Merica. I’m tapping this out from limited WiFi at a campsite just west of Glacier National Park, where today my honey and I scampered around one of the few remaining glaciers in the country5, followed by a trip to the area where Running Eagle took the vision quest
.
Back at camp, there are a few good old boys grilling up burgers and hotdogs in the gazebo and I’m sipping some luke warm sauvignon blanc here on the picnic table, hoping the WIFi works long enough to press send.
One more thing: I find it typically American that the park would put the only gendered bathroom in the whole place at an interpretive trailhead meant to honor a genderfluid icon.
How’d you spend your 4th?
I can see how the term “gender fluid” isn’t the right thing here.
Sound familiar?
Damn, that Running Eagle was brilliant!
Hey, a warrior’s got to warrior, y’know?
20 years, if we’re lucky. But if you-know-who wins the White House, kiss glaciers goodbye sooner.
Also see: Isabelle Eberhardt
From the Jolie Holland song, Old Fashioned Morphine.
Not patriotic, but still a heck of a story.
I recently saw a First Nations comedian comment on this white “queering” of First Nations people and their history.
In the end, it’s gays like me who get blamed for it.