Chippewa Princess

It was a crisp October morning in the Froid, Montana Northeastern plains area sometime in the early 1940’s. The Chippewa princess was in her mid-teen’s…

She scanned the vast expanse before her with a sense of excitement as she gently stroked the mane of her Pinto, “Nagamo” (Sing). As always, she rode bareback and barefoot. She liked the feel of her toes in Nagamo’s hair as her legs formed a human cinch.

Martha Alice Gladue - Campbell

Horse and rider had just finished racing across the plains from their homestead to a knoll overlooking the little town. They rested, and their warm exhales made wispy clouds that quickly dissipated into the first rays of the early morning sun. It was perfectly quiet other than the sound of their breathing. Up well before dawn, she was seizing the day… a habit that would stay with her through her lifetime.

Her thick, wavy hair was black as coal, with a satin sheen that matched that of her ancestors. She had a natural beauty that combined the best of her half Chippewa, half French ancestry. Her lithe, athletic body served her well for homestead chores and in athletics at her small high school.

At the school, she also excelled in academics, but being female and part Indian she was not expected to develop any of her gifts to full potential. It was a natural act for the locals to call her “half-breed” and not with a tone of respect. She would become sensitized to this to the point that, as she grew into womanhood, she would not declare her Chippewa origins at all. Not to her sons and not to any who knew her. In fact, she would not find peace with it until her sons were well into their 20's. That is when she told them about their heritage.

But that crystal clear morning she could see. She could see her future. She could see her parents and her ten brothers and sisters leaving Froid. It would be hard losing the homestead…and they did in the throes of the Great Depression. It would be hard for her family to assimilate into the culture of Seattle…and it was as they struggled to build families and emerge from the city’s projects.

She also could see that she would find her man in the West and she did. He was handsome and confident, born with a big dose of French and Scottish ancestry. He had a quick sense of humor and a singing voice she loved to harmonize with. He promised her nothing but laughter and that they would have. They would stay together for over 50 years, until death they did part. She would have two "my boys" who would grow to make her proud of their families, their accomplishments and their character.

She patted Nagamo again, set her eyes on their fastest path back to the homestead and dug her heels into his side. The horse galloped effortlessly with its light, graceful load. It’s hooves pounded out an ancient rhythm that had horse and rider moving as one. At that moment Martha Alice Campbell could hear the future as well, could hear a song sung powerfully by someone close to her, someone yet unborn...

“Oh when the sun does down,

Over them rolling hills.

I find peace of mind,

And then I just drift away.

It’s been a long hard road,

I've got tired wheels.

But I will travel on,

Until my dying day.”*

*"Travel On" © Tyler Thomas Campbell, 2008:  Martha Alice Campbell's Grandson - Listen to "Travel On"