James Willard Schultz left his family, traveled to Montana, and lived among the Blackfeet, marrying the Blackfeet woman Natahki. That much is fairly well documented. For the rest of Schultz’s book My Life as an Indian it isn’t clear what’s fully factual. I see just a little of the “white savior” meme in the narrative but perhaps I’m too suspicious. The book was published in 1907; I suppose that after killing or dispossessing all the Native Americans, whites were ready to see them as Noble Savages again. And Schultz’s Blackfeet usually fall into the Noble Savage category; the young men are brave warriors, the young women are beauties, and the elderly are wise. (There are a few exceptions, but Schultz stresses that they are exceptions). Although there are a lot of anecdotes about Blackfeet life, Schultz doesn’t provide anything that can be pinned down – places, dates and names tend to be vague or perhaps deliberately disguised. To be fair Schultz isn’t claiming to be an ethnologist – he’s writing a biographical account, not an academic paper. That being said, I found Schultz quite readable; his stories are interesting and his characters plausible. No maps, which is something of a handicap since geography plays a role in a lot of the stories. Photographs in the text but they seem to be generic Indians rather than particular people Schultz is talking about. He went on to write 30+ books, I may try some of the other ones. ( )

This is without question the best book of its type which I have ever read. It is the memoir of a man who set out for the western plains and Rockies during the 1870s. He worked with a trader and so was there when the end of the buffalo came, and along with it, the end of the way of life of the natives of the plains. He married a Piegan woman, spoke the language and lived among the Blackfoot people. As a trader, he had exposure to many of the tribal peoples of that area. He hunted with them, went to war with them, lived in his lodge among them, and then wrote about them.

I was afraid that this book would be either idealistically unreal, or condescending in tone. It was neither. Schultz wrote a portrait for all time of these tribes in their humanity. Not evil, not perfect, not happy little natives or horrible scoundrels, but as people, individuals with all of those characteristics and more. He described many of their rituals, traditions and beliefs, told their stories, and introduced us to many of the individuals around him with all the drama of their lives. This is a vivid word picture of a moment in time which will never be seen again. As such, it is underlain with sadness, not written to be manipulative, but simply to expose to view a very sad epoch in the history of people. The ending is so abrupt one has the feeling that the author couldn't bear to write more. Do not discount it on account of the sadness though. He has filled this book with laughter, love, heroism and adventure as well as death, sorrow and pain. ( )

Schultz was an amazing man. What a life! He left his comfortable home and certain future in the East to find adventure in the untamed Western territory. He lived with the Blackfeet Indians for years. His books are part recollection of his own experiences, part retelling of the stories he heard around the firepit. An interesting insight into a way of life now gone but hopefully never forgotten. ( )