In the culture of the Crow Indians of Montana we have a way of life embodying a scale of values very different from any of those which we have so far considered. Nevertheless, many of their institutions and beliefs and practices are similar to those of other primitive peoples. But the significance even of these is different because of the way in which they enter into a way of life pervaded by certain distinctive principles; for it is not the detailed elements that enter into it which determine the nature of a culture so much as the way they are integrated and the value that is attached to each.2

The most characteristic principles of the Crow way of life are that social standing depends on individual merit, that merit is earned primarily through military exploits, that martial prowess is the result of supernatural blessing and protection, and that these are obtained by an individual in a vision following a lonely vigil in which he meets his supernatural patron face to face. The supreme value which they attach to the military virtues and the importance of the supernatural visions, which are so intimately connected with them, pervade and colour every aspect of Crow life, and modify the working of all their institutions.

Only the briefest outline can be given here of the institutions which they share with the tribes which we have hitherto considered, and most of my space will be devoted to describing those principles which are peculiar to the Crow, and to showing how these interlock with one another and with their other institutions to form their distinctive way of life, and to determine their duties and obligations.

There are, however, two other important points worth noting about the Crow culture, (1) In it we find not only social groupings for ritualistic, religious and economic purposes but also clubs and societies which are purely secular and whose functions are social and military. (2) The Crow have been in contact with Western civilisation for well over a century, though at first their contacts were mainly indirect. As a result we have a good deal of knowledge of what happened to their institutions during that period, through their borrowing of elements not so much from Western civilisation as from the other Indian tribes. From this information we can draw certain conclusions as to the way in which such borrowings take place; and they are probably of general application. Unfortunately, an example of such borrowings with the detail necessary to bring out its significance would be too long to give here. All that can be noted, therefore, is that they seem to make three things clear. (1) An institution or element of another culture seems to be borrowed only when it meets a felt need which is either unsatisfied or less well satisfied in the special circumstances in which the borrowers find themselves. (2) Institutions are more likely to be taken over if the beliefs and practices embodied in them are capable of being fitted easily into the traditional way of life of the people concerned. (3) Such borrowing is not the mere passive reception of alien elements. The new institutions are modified so that they harmonise with the spirit and principles of the culture into which they are introduced, and, in the process, they are so transformed that they differ from what they would have been in any other culture. Thus, as Lowie points out3 in his account of the borrowings of the Plains Indians, when the buffalo disappeared and their warlike activities were restricted by the U.S. Government, both psychological and historical considerations are required to explain them. Neither alone will suffice.

Till near the end of the nineteenth century, the Crow were a semi-nomadic people depending for their livelihood on hunting and gathering natural products such as fruits and berries. It was only when the buffalo, which was their staple food, disappeared that they reluctantly turned to cultivate the soil. We shall be concerned mainly with their way of life as it was before this change came about.

The Crow are divided into thirteen clans. The clans are linked into five pairs and one trio, the members of which have special obligations to one another. The clans are matrilineal, that is, the child belongs to his or her mother's clan. They are also exogamous and so serve to regulate marriage. They are the social units for entertainment and the vendetta, and they are the basis of many types of mutual helpfulness between individuals. But though the tie of blood through the mother, the basis of clan unity, gives rise to the most stringent obligations of mutual assistance and exchange of gifts, the Crow by no means ignore the tie of blood through the father. It, too, is the basis of sentimental and moral ties. Not only is it a person's duty to treat his paternal kinsmen with the utmost respect, he is also expected to make feasts for them and give them presents, while they are in duty bound to pray for him when he is on the warpath, to sing his praises on certain ceremonial and other occasions, and so on.

Moreover, it is kinship through the father that is at the base of one of the most remarkable Crow institutions, that of joking relatives. This relationship has two sides, a comic and a serious one. Persons who are related in this way have a right to play practical jokes on one another, and what is more important each has a right, and perhaps even a duty, to expose the other to public ridicule if he is guilty of a breach of tribal custom. And he can and does exercise this right with impunity when similar actions on the part of anyone else would be deeply resented. Thus the joking relatives act as guardians of one another's morals. The weapon of public ridicule, socially sanctioned in the institution of joking relatives, is one of the strongest safeguards of Crow morality. How effective it is we can see from their attitude to exogamy. Among them exogamy has only a social, not a supernatural, sanction. No disastrous consequences, either for the individuals concerned or for the community as a whole, are believed to follow a breach of the rule; but anyone who broke the rule would be exposed to public ridicule by his joking relative. So effective is this sanction that breaches of exogamy are no more common among the Crow than is usual among people who believe that such breaches are penalised by supernatural means.

The Crow is also under a strong obligation to respect his parents-in-law, especially his mother-in-law, and he and his parents-in-law have mutual duties to one another. In fact, we find among the Crow the same sort of classification of kin, including kinship by blood and marriage and tribal fiction, as we found among the Australian Aborigines, but it differs from the latter in details. It is not nearly so extensive as the all-embracing system of the Australians, and its operation is modified in more important ways by other principles of social organisation. Nevertheless, it is a very important determinant of social conduct. Into the details of the Crow system of mutual obligations and privileges based on kinship we need not enter. The system of exchange of gifts and services and the principle of reciprocity on which it rests are common to practically all small co-operative groups of people related to one another by personal contact and ties of kinship. They are, indeed, the foundations of their systems of social justice. It is, however, necessary to note, as I pointed out before, that all that the principle of reciprocity implies is that there are duties and privileges and that they are mutual. What precisely these duties and privileges are is mainly determined by the other institutions of the particular community, and the values which find expression in them. What these are in the case of the Crow, and how they determine their rights and duties, we shall see presently.

In the conditions in which the Crow lived, it was a very great advantage to have many kinsmen, for they could be relied on to help one another materially and morally, whenever such assistance was necessary, whether in peace or war, at work or at play. But however important such relatives might be, they were not sufficient to ensure social standing or success in life. To achieve these, certain personal qualities, especially prowess in war, had to be possessed by an individual himself. Indeed, these personal qualities alone were sufficient to ensure the highest standing in life, which was, therefore, open to everyone whatever his initial disadvantages. The Crow respected many other qualities, such as “liberality, aptness for story-telling or success as a doctor”;4 but they were mere “decorative frills” compared with success on the warpath, which was the real substance of true greatness. With them “war was not the concern of a class nor even of the male sex, but of the whole population from cradle to grave”.5 Children played at war, girls danced war dances, women showed special favours to the brave, and the glory of death in battle was the burden of the instruction given to youth. Is it surprising, then, that while the motives by which the Crow were actuated were many and complex, the desire for military fame should be their ruling passion? To be a brave warrior was to have succeeded in life, and to have gained entry into the council of chiefs.

The game of war was conducted according to strict rules; and while all prowess was given due credit, a man had to reach a certain standard of bravery and to exhibit it in certain specific ways before he could attain the status of a chief. “There were four normal types of creditable exploit, leadership of a successful raid, capturing a horse picketed within a hostile camp, being the first to touch an enemy, and snatching a foeman's bow or gun.”6 In order to rank as a chief, a man had to score at least once on each of these counts. The council of chiefs did not exercise much direct political authority. They did not issue decrees or even administer the tribal laws, but one of their number acted as head of the camp. He decided when the camp should move, and each year he appointed one of the military clubs to act as police. The main functions of the police were to regulate the buffalo hunts and war parties, to direct the movements of the camp, to settle any dispute within the camp, and generally to maintain order and punish offenders.

The membership of these military clubs cut across clan and other kinship loyalties. The members treated one another as brothers, while blood-brothers and other near kin might be members of different and rival clubs. This prevented an over-development of clan unity, and made for greater cohesion in the camp as a whole. Unlike religious societies, these clubs, whose functions were entirely secular, had neither entrance fees nor formal initiation of members, but each had “its distinctive regalia, decoration, dances and peculiarities of behaviour”.7 Their affairs were controlled by their senior members, but specially selected individuals, whom Lowie calls “officers”, were appointed each year. The function of the officers, however, was not to lead or direct, but to show outstanding bravery, and to occupy the most dangerous positions in the face of the enemy. If, for example, a raiding party were being pushed back by the enemy, the officers were expected to stand fast and hold up the enemy to enable their comrades to get away. Indeed everything connected with the clubs, such as the standing of the members, the nature of the ceremonies, the rivalry between clubs, and so on, was pervaded by and subordinated to military considerations. They served in fact the purpose of keeping the military spirit alive in their members, and stimulating it in one another, during the periods when they were not engaged in raids against the enemy.

We can see the importance of these clubs and the strength of their claims on the loyalty of their members in the influence they exercised on family life, and the way in which their rules overrode even the bonds between husbands and wives. This comes to light most clearly in the custom of mutual wife-kidnapping by rival clubs immediately before they went on the warpath in the spring. It is difficult to say how far the original motive of this practice was the same as that of the practice of exchanging wives among the Australian Aborigines in similar circumstances. Certainly the procedure in the two cases was quite different; and among the Crow the result was not always harmony and cohesion. It is true that, in their case, sex morals were lax and divorce easy and frequent. Even promiscuous women, though disapproved, were treated with good-natured tolerance. Nevertheless, chastity was highly honoured. Only women against whom no reproach could be brought could perform the most important parts in their religious ceremonies, and it was only for virgins that bride wealth was paid. Similarly, although divorce was common, a stable union was regarded as the ideal, and in such unions we find “loyal attachment and even deep affection”.8 Nevertheless, whatever the motive, for two or three weeks in the spring, the two principal clubs were engaged in kidnapping one another's wives. In theory, at least, no woman could be kidnapped who had not previously shown favours to a man in the opposite club; and in some cases the kidnapped woman took the initiative by inviting a member of the opposite club to call for her. Moreover, women who might have encouraged the hopes of particular braves in the past, but were now happy with their husbands, might, if they appealed to the chivalry of their former lovers, be left unmolested; while others who did not want to be kidnapped took steps, such as hiding or running away to the mountains, to avoid it, and could count on the assistance of their women friends in their efforts. But what is specially significant from our present point of view is that, however happy a man might be with his wife, and however bitterly he might resent her loss, tribal custom decreed that he should not interfere or even show resentment against the kidnappers. It should, however, be added that there are cases on record where conjugal loyalty proved stronger than the sense of duty to tribal custom; but the demand of tribal custom was that the husband should not interfere, and that he should assume an air of indifference even if he did not feel it. The subordination of conjugal loyalty to military glory appears in another way also. Exceptionally brave men enjoyed special privileges with other men's wives.9 In these cases the women took the initiative. Sometimes their husbands resented it, sometimes they did not.

Why, then, do the military virtues occupy so high a place in the Crow scale of values? Is it because they have a stronger or more uncontrollable instinct of pugnacity than other tribes? Lowie, who knows them well, contends that there is nothing to suggest that their innate endowment is different in this respect from that of other people. In support of this contention he points out that among them fighting inside the tribe was regarded as a disgrace. Every effort was made to prevent internal brawls; and if they broke out, the club on police duty tried to bring about a reconciliation. So that it does not seem to have been love of fighting as such that made the Crow regard the warpath as pre-eminently the path of glory. There are two other facts which tend to support this conclusion. The first is the recorded unwillingness of young men to accept office in the military clubs.10 If mere love of fighting were their predominant motive, such offices should be specially sought after. The other is that they did not attach high merit to killing an enemy; merely to touch him or to take his bow or gun was regarded as evidence of much greater bravery. Similarly, to bring home a scalp was evidence of a kill, but it was not treated as on a par with the forms of bravery required to become a chief. It is true, as we have seen, that their instinct of pugnacity found expression not only on the warpath but in almost all their institutions; but this seems to have been the result rather than the cause of their scale of values and pattern of culture.

They had, of course, motives for warfare other than a love of military glory. Lowie mentions two in particular, desire for loot and for revenge. Loot consisted mainly of horses, and as most warriors had more horses than they could use, this motive was a social rather than an economic one. What they desired was the kudos that came from ownership of a large number of horses, or from giving them as gifts to their kin or their relatives-in-law. The motive of revenge entered, especially, when the enemy had killed a member of their clan, but in addition there were scores of long standing to be settled with the enemy. It should be added that, like most primitive people, the Crow did not fight for territory. We may conclude, therefore, that there is nothing to show that the position which they gave to war and military glory was the result of a different innate endowment or a stronger instinct of pugnacity in the Crow than in more peaceful tribes. It was the scale of values which was embodied in their way of life that caused the over-development of this side of their nature. In this we have another example of the plasticity of man’s natural endowment and of the importance of cultural conditioning.

This interpretation of the facts is further confirmed by a consideration of the relation between the Crow views of war and of religion on the one hand, and between their religion and their cultural pattern or scale of values on the other. In both cases we have a relation of mutual dependence, so that it is impossible to say that the one is a cause and the other an effect. I want briefly to consider these two relations. On the one hand, every Crow military operation was inspired by a religious revelation;11 and on the other hand, the contents of their supernatural visions were socially or culturally determined, that is, they were largely the result of their way of life.12

What, then, was the nature of the supernatural revelations that sanctioned the warlike enterprises of the Crow and enabled their raiding parties to go out in the assured confidence of divine protection and blessing? The Crow had no ceremonies for initiating their young men into the status of full membership of the tribe. Instead, the youth who wanted to make a success of life went into the mountains alone to get a vision. There were variations in the procedure but the general pattern was as follows. The would-be visionary sought to arouse the compassion of the supernatural powers by fasting and self-torture. He refrained from all food and drink. He opened a vein; he cut off a finger or made a wound in some other part of his body. He prayed for success on the warpath, ability to cure diseases, long life, horses, or whatever else he specially desired. After days and nights spent in prayer and fasting and self-torture, he swooned, exhausted it might well be from lack of food or loss of blood; and, in this condition, there appeared to him, sometimes in human form but more often in the form of bird or beast, a being who adopted him as his son, blessed him, and usually in symbolic form promised him invulnerability in battle, fleetness of foot, capacity for leadership, success as a doctor, long life, horses, and so on. He also gave him instructions, mainly about ritual and diet, which he had to observe as a condition of continuing to receive the blessing.

While this was the normal way of obtaining a vision, some visions came unsought, for example in ordinary dreams; and sometimes beings in the form of birds or beasts appeared un-solicited, to succour those who were in dire distress or peril. Moreover, it was not youths only who might go in quest of a vision. Anyone at any age might do so, and might do it more than once; and women might do so as well as men. In fact, among the Crow, anyone in distress or difficulty, the bereaved father, the forsaken lover, a man seeking revenge, even a gambler who had staked and lost his all, might seek supernatural aid through a vision; and the result of his quest might make or mar his whole career; for not all who tried succeeded in getting a vision. In some cases, night after night passed and no patron spirit appeared, and the unfortunate suppliant concluded that high achievement was not for him. On the other hand, the suppliant, who had seen his supernatural patron face to face and made his covenant with him, returned satisfied that if he carried out the instructions he had received, his guardian spirit would not fail him.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing about these visions is that, though the details might vary from vision to vision, the general pattern was strangely similar. The vision normally came, if it came at all, on the fourth night—four being the sacred number of the Crow. The words in which the supernatural being adopted the suppliant as his child were much the same in all cases. The suppliant was usually also taught a song. There was a similar resemblance in the blessings promised and in the instructions given to different individuals. In short, what appeared was mainly determined by what was expected, and what was expected was determined, partly no doubt by the special circumstances and personality of the suppliant, but still more by the cultural pattern and scale of values of his people. As Lowie puts it, “the individual Crow seems absolutely free in his religious life. He may believe what he will as to creation, cosmology or the hereafter. He is not coerced to worship this or that deity. He is apparently only guided by his own specific vision . . . [but he] does not receive an individual vision. The way he gets his revelation, and its very content as well, are determined by the ideas current in Crow society, though of course remodelled by his individual fancy or the needs of the moment.”13 But the relation between cultural pattern and vision is one of mutual, not one-sided dependence. The content of the vision is culturally determined, but the supernatural vision confirms and sanctions the way of life and scale of values of the suppliant. When the individual follows the socially prescribed pattern of his people, and finds what the pattern has led him to expect, he confirms, in his own personal experience, the truth of what his fathers have taught him. Thus for him and for his fellows the way of life acquires a deeper meaning and a greater authority.

Nevertheless, the Crow do not believe that every vision is a valid supernatural revelation. Before it is accepted as genuine, the vision has to be tested by its practical results. Suppose the suppliant has been promised success as a leader of a raiding party. However convinced he may be of the genuineness of the revelation and the reality of the blessing, he has still to inspire some of his kinsmen or friends with sufficient confidence to go with him on a raid. He has also to get the sanction of the council of chiefs or the military club on police duty to undertake a raid; and it is only when he returns as victor from a raid in which some of the enemy have been killed, some of their horses captured, or some other deed of daring done, that the genuineness of the vision is finally confirmed. Similarly, if a suppliant claims that his guardian spirit has granted him power to cure either all diseases or some specific kind of disease, he must submit his claim to the test of experience. If he succeeds in practice in curing such diseases, then, but only then, is his claim accepted as valid. The explanations which the natives offer of visions which are not confirmed by experience are that the supernatural patron may not have been powerful enough, or that the suppliant may not have faithfully carried out his instructions, or that he may have been deceived by a malicious spirit.14

Though some visions are thus proved to be illusory, a vision is still regarded as the one avenue to high achievement; and no Crow would think of embarking on an important undertaking without such a sanction. But the vision need not necessarily be his own. A man who has not had a vision of his own may resort to one who had, and thus get the necessary guidance and power. But while visions are the ultimate source of power, objects which appear in visions, a feather, an arrow, a rock, etc., are sometimes regarded not only as symbols of such power, and of the supernatural being who gave it, but also as having such powers in their own right. To such sacred objects, ‘medicines’ or ‘medicine bundles’ as they are called, the Crow prays. He treats them with the utmost reverence. He takes them into battle or on other expeditions; and, in connection with them, he performs various magical rites which were revealed in the original vision. Besides, these sacred objects can be transferred either by inheritance or by purchase; and provided the proper ritual rules, which differ from object to object, are observed in connection with them, they still retain their supernatural efficacy. In this way, persons who have not themselves had direct supernatural experiences may enjoy the blessings which result from them. In short the Crow, like many other primitive peoples, do not draw a clear distinction between magic and religion. This becomes even more obvious when we consider the beliefs and practices and ceremonial ritual connected with their religious societies. To take one or two examples. We find as the core of the ceremonies of one society, the practice of growing sacred tobacco with appropriate magical rites, and the belief that this practice is essential to the welfare of the community as a whole. In another, the central place is taken by an individual who is publicly, and with the aid of a man with a powerful ‘medicine’, seeking a vision to enable him to take vengeance on an enemy. He is, as it were, dedicating himself in the presence of the whole tribe to getting such vengeance at all costs. Round these central themes have gathered much subsidiary vision-seeking by individuals, and much ceremonial feasting and dancing and exchanging of gifts in which the whole tribe takes part. In fact, almost every aspect of tribal life enters into these ceremonies and no doubt thereby gains an added sanction. For example, as part of one ceremony, those related by kinship ties must exchange gifts according to the principles which we already described. The principle of family unity is strengthened by the fact that husband and wife have to act as a unit in connection with many of the ceremonies. Many of the songs and dances and much of the symbolism glorify war, and so support the Crow scale of values, and so on.

This enables us to see some of the social consequences of these magico-religious beliefs and practices, and some of the functions they fulfil in the Crow way of life. Some of the ritual and ceremonial practices make for the strengthening of social bonds and give an added authority to tribal customs. The visions and the belief in the efficacy of ‘medicine bundles’ inspire confidence in the face of difficulties and trials. As a result, the ideals embodied in their way of life are pursued with greater vigour and ardour, and the duties which their realisation imposes on them are fulfilled with greater zest and hope. In this way, the different aspects of their life interlock to form a harmonious whole. In the resultant pattern, activities personal and social, peaceable and warlike, economic, political and religious, are so intertwined that the benefits and privileges of one provide an incentive to perform the duties required by another. Thus supernatural visions give courage in war; bravery in war determines social standing; and social standing determines political organisation. On the other hand, while the one avenue to success in war is a supernatural vision, the content of that vision is determined by the very social order which requires for its effective functioning the military activities dictated by the vision.

Though the magico-religious beliefs and practices of the Crow dovetail into the other aspects of their way of life, they neither prescribe nor justify the contents of their moral and social ideals. For, as Lowie points out, the direct connections between Crow religion and morality are very tenuous.15 “The really vital social canons, such as incest taboos, the laws of chivalry and the ideals of chastity, have no supernatural sanctions. . . . When a prospective visionary calls upon the supernatural to favour him, he hardly ever stresses his moral worth but his pitiable plight. What he begs for is not moral elevation but some material benefit, and it is compassion which animates his patron in granting it. Often, to be sure, the visitant lays down rules of conduct but they have no bearing on social considerations. They are capricious taboos of a dietary or ritualistic character”16 about such things as eating birds’ eggs, throwing ashes from his hut, cooking fat, knocking the snow off his hut, turning a shield, and so on. These ritual rules are precise and definite; blessings are promised for their observance and dire consequences are threatened for disobeying them; but they provide little or no guidance as to how the individual should behave towards his fellow-men, what rights he should respect, what duties he should fulfil; and they contain no promise of reward or threat of punishment for such conduct. Moreover, the supernatural patrons will support their suppliants irrespective of the merits of their cause. They sometimes even fight one another in defence of their followers.

In the light of these considerations, we may agree with Lowie17 that the conduct prescribed by Crow religion is “purely personal”, “potentially anti-social” and “manifestly unconnected with anything normally included under the heading of ethics”. While “the Crow did have a clear code of social conduct”, he concludes, it “may be said to be almost wholly dissociated from religious sanctions”.18 And yet, as Lowie clearly recognised, this is only one side of the truth; for, as we have seen, once the individual has his moral and social duties, once he knows what his duties to his fellow-men are, at least some of his magico-religious beliefs and practices help him to make the effort necessary to realise his ideals and fulfil his duties.

From whence, then, if not from religion, does the Crow derive the detailed content of his moral and social ideals? Why does he regard as obligatory the duties which they impose? He derives them in the first instance from the way of life of his people, the way of life which has largely made him the sort of individual that he is, and which exists not only around him but in him, in the way of habits of thinking and feeling and judging. The fact that they are the traditional customs of his people seems to be accepted as a sufficient reason for regarding some forms of conduct as right. This is true of manners and conventions. It seems to be true also of the basic principles of their social structure, such as matrilineal, exogamous clans, and of the high standing of the military virtues. The rightness of these principles is seldom or never doubted, and so no question of justifying them arises.

We are on less sure ground when we consider why the Crow regards as right the detailed requirements of the moral and social institutions which function within the general framework of their social structure. No doubt there are many among them who just accept the socially prescribed duties as binding and ask for no further reasons. The extent to which this is so varies in the case of different individuals and probably also in the case of different forms of conduct. But from many of the details of their institutions, and the conduct they prescribe, and especially from the statements of the more intelligent and reflective members of the community, it is clear that the final authority for the conduct which is regarded as obligatory is the good of the tribe or clan with which the good of the individual is intimately bound up. In other words, they regard as right that which they believe to be necessary to maintain and promote the smooth working of their way of life, a way of life which, as tested by experience, they find on the whole good. The Crow, we are told, are not given to systematic thinking, and no doubt few if any of them have a clear conception of the way of life of their people as a whole, or of the way in which the duties required of them in particular circumstances fit into the total pattern. But they at least see that the performance of certain duties is required for the efficient functioning of particular institutions; and as they desire the benefits which the working of these institutions brings them, they regard the duties which they impose as binding, however irksome and contrary to their immediate inclinations they may be. When, for example, a number of them are engaged in a co-operative enterprise like a raiding party or buffalo hunt, they all desire the success of the undertaking, and they recognise that the condition of success is that each should play his part and treat the others in certain ways. They therefore regard it as obligatory that he should do so.

The same considerations apply to the working of other institutions such as mutual helpfulness between the members of a clan, exchange of gifts and services between patrilineal kin, or reciprocal obligations of the members of a military club. The smooth working of these institutions is seen to be good for all concerned, and the conduct necessary to effect this is therefore regarded as right. This does not, however, mean that such conduct is not often exacting and unpleasant. So long as the group is small, the relations personal, the privileges and obligations mutual and the purpose of the institutions clear—and this is true of most of their institutions—it is easy even for the least imaginative to see what the working of their institutions requires, and to recognise that their working is for the good of the group including his own. How fundamental the principle of reciprocity, on which most of their institutions is based, is in their ideas of justice and their system of morality can be seen from the ways in which they extend it even to regions where it seems to us least appropriate, such as the relation between supernatural patron and suppliant, the relation between moral censors in the institution of joking relatives, or the relations involved in the transfer of spiritual power. Even if the transfer is from father to child, an equivalent return has to be made.19

Now, as we have seen, the particular institutions interlock to form the whole way of life of the people, and in the resulting pattern the different institutions mutually modify as well as support one another. Accordingly the pattern of the culture helps to determine the precise nature and requirements of the institutions, and the maintenance of the way of life requires that the institutions should function effectively. So that the good of the whole community, as expressed in the pattern of their way of life, is the final justification of the rightness of the duties required by particular institutions. Of course, this may not be always clearly grasped by the person who is called on to perform a duty. He may not see beyond the requirements of the particular institution; but it follows from the nature of the way of life as a whole.

As additional evidence for this interpretation of the facts, we may note a few further considerations which support the view that for the Crow the final authority as to what is right is the good of the tribe. (1) We already saw that a supernatural vision has to be tested before it is accepted as a genuine revelation. What test, then, do they apply to it? In the first place, unless it is in conformity with the interests of the tribe as interpreted by the council of chiefs or the police on military duty, nothing further can be done to test it. In the second place, if the visionary is allowed to test it further, the test requires that it should be in the interests of the tribe; for, to be successful, not only must the raiding party, led by the visionary, do damage to the enemy, but it must do so without the loss of any of his own men. (2) This brings to light a second way in which the interests of the group modify the conduct which their professed ideal would seem to prescribe. From the instruction given to their youth who are told that old age is an evil and death in battle the greatest good,20 as well as from their passion for military fame and the high importance which they attach to the military virtues, we might expect that the Crow would encourage reckless daring on the warpath. But that was certainly not the case. Their ideal of the successful military leader is the man who succeeds in inflicting casualties on the enemy or getting loot from them without any loss among his own men.21 If he could at all help it, he should not run the risk of losing even one of his men, even in the hope of inflicting very much more serious losses on the enemy. And the reason is not far to seek. The loss of even one man was recognised as a serious loss for the tribe, and the interests of the tribe dictated the tactics of warfare.22 (3) The paramount importance of the good of the tribe as a determinant of right conduct is also seen in the way they behaved when a member of the tribe was killed. The conduct which they regarded as right was quite different when the murderer was a fellow tribesman from what it was when he was an outsider. We should think that, if anything, the former was the more heinous crime, and therefore deserved the severer punishment. Not so the Crow. They certainly regarded the murder of a fellow tribesman as a serious crime, so serious that they were unwilling to associate with a pardoned murderer.23 But in determining his punishment, the interests of the tribe seemed more important than considerations of justice to individuals. For even if the murderer belonged to a different clan, as long as he was a fellow tribesman, his death was not insisted on. Indeed every effort was made to induce the kinsmen of the murdered man to accept compensation and not to insist on the death of the murderer. But if the murderer happened to belong to another tribe, nothing but his death, or that of one of his kinsmen, would satisfy the outraged feelings of the murdered man's relatives.

No doubt it was the interests of a tribe which lived precariously in the midst of enemies which also dictated the high value placed on military prowess, the special sexual favours shown to outstanding warriors, and many other features of their way of life. And the interests of the tribe often presented them with alternatives which were grim enough. For example, would the interests of the tribe be best served by abandoning their sick or wounded comrades on a raiding party or in battle, or by staying with them, or by trying to carry them away to nurse them back to health? There are many instances on record24 of the heroism of wounded men who pleaded with their comrades to leave them and save the tribe, and also of self-sacrificing refusal by the latter to abandon their fellows.

The view that the good of the tribe was the main determinant of right conduct is further confirmed by the fact that, where the interests of the tribe were not believed to be at stake, the individual Crow, faced with conflicting loyalties, was given a very considerable measure of freedom to do as he liked. We find such conflicts, for example, between family loyalty and clan solidarity,25 or between the claims of personal friendship with a member of another clan and the requirements of clan unity.26 But in such cases no blame seems to have been attached to an individual whichever of the alternative lines of conduct he pursued.

We may sum up our conclusion about the moral ideas of the Crow as follows: However close may be the connection and even the interpenetration of different aspects of their way of life, and however much their institutions may help to support and sustain one another, it is legitimate to distinguish, within the behaviour which they regard as obligatory, between different kinds of conduct which they regard as right for different reasons. (1) There are forms of conduct, ritual and ceremonial, which have a supernatural sanction and are regarded as obligatory for that reason. Some of these, such as the ceremonial in connection with the magico-religious societies, are common to all members of the tribe. Others are peculiar to particular individuals, being the price they have to pay for the blessing and protection of their supernatural patrons. The former at least are social as well as sacred duties. Breaches of them are social offences as well as sacrilege. But whether public or private, these duties are all concerned with objects or institutions which evoke what Lowie and Goldenweiser call the religious thrill. (2) There are rules of etiquette and manners and the basic principles of their social organisation. These are regarded as right out of respect for tradition, or because they are the customs of their ancestors and they have no inducement to depart from them. (3) There are the detailed rules of secular and social morality. These are for the most part expressions of the principle of reciprocity of gifts and services, and of the conditions of effective co-operation; and their precise requirements are determined by the particular institutions which in their interrelation constitute the cultural pattern of the people. They are regarded as right because they are believed to be in the interests of the tribe and required to maintain the way of life which the Crow find good, a way of life which the individual regards as his own good as well as that of his people.