Kitabı oku: «The Vanishing Race: The Last Great Indian Council», sayfa 5

“Then, again, let me tell you about the battle that we had between the Sioux and the Flatheads about twenty miles north of where Billings now stands: In this battle the Sioux numbered about one hundred and fifty, and the Flatheads consisted of the entire tribe. We sent three spies across the Yellowstone, and they came back with the location of the Flatheads. They reported that the entire tribe was camped there. We were afraid because of their great numbers that they would beat us. We debated as to whether we should go back home or make the attack. Finally the chiefs selected thirty of the bravest men to go on ahead. The rest of the war party remained in camp. I was numbered among the thirty who were chosen to go ahead. We left there in the dark of the night. We journeyed on in silence until daybreak, when we first got a view of the enemy's camp. When daylight came we found that ten of our thirty had deserted from fear. When we got in sight of the camp another ten left us, so that only left ten to advance on the camp. We made a fool charge at the camp at the rising of the sun. None of us expected to come back when we made the charge. After we made the charge, there were about four who backed out again, so that left us only six in number. We ran our horses up to the side of the tents and then ran back again to the hills. The women were just getting out to get breakfast ready. We took about fifty horses with us, as we rode back, as a challenge for the enemy to come after us. The firing began from the camp and frightened the horses so that we only got about twenty out of the fifty. There was one horse, a spotted animal, that pleased me very much, and out of the six of us in number I rushed back to get that horse. When I went back after this horse the enemy came upon me so strong that I was obliged to flee to the hills. They came right behind us firing at us. The enemy chased us for miles and miles, shooting at us but never killing any of us. We turned in our saddles every once in a while and fired back, and then went on. We were reinforced by the last ten that left us. Just at this time a horse under one of our men was shot, and he was on foot running. We made a whirl around this man who was on foot, which seemed to check the enemy. At this time one of the enemy was shot off his horse. This man who was shot from his horse was surrounded by two of his friends who dismounted to defend him. As soon as I saw this man lying on his back, I made a hard charge at him; I struck at his head. An enemy standing near discharged his gun at me, and took the butt of the gun to strike me on the head. Just at this moment my horse stumbled and fell forward which saved me from receiving the blow. As I did so I made a circle and came back again to my own people. But I was mad at him in my heart because he had struck at me. I took my bow and arrow and shot an arrow right through his cheek. As I hit this enemy through the cheek I whipped up my horse and made a charge at him. One of my friends came riding up with me, and we both charged together. Our horses turned just as we reached this enemy whom I had shot through the cheek, and the enemy ran right in behind us. He got hold of my friend's horse's tail and shot him through the back with his revolver and he fell right over my horse. I got off my horse, holding my friend tight, and one of my friends saw the enemy at this time and shot him. This man who had been shot by my friend got up again as his wound was only a skin wound. I let go of my dead friend and got off my horse and charged at this fellow. Just as I charged at him there were two angry Sioux who laid their coup sticks on him. They went on by him and that left him for me to fight. Just as I reached him the enemy was very close behind me. They had shot at me at very close range. I could smell the smoke. He aimed his gun right at me, but he was so bewildered that he did not fire. I took the gun away from him and knocked him down. I got on my horse, taking his gun with me, at which time my horse was shot across the nose, but he kept on going toward my friends. The bullets whizzed around me, bewildering me for a moment. At this time it seemed as though the enemy were defeated, but the rest of our band came up at this moment. The enemy retreated when they saw our friends, but they pursued us all the way back to the Yellowstone. The dead numbered about a hundred in this battle. I did not go back, because my horse was exhausted. I have five more just such thrilling stories, including the one in which I was wounded.”

“The greatest event in my life, leaving behind the story that I have told, is to be found at the time the Indians received allotments of land, and were given a home so they could not roam around; and above all, the time when I found religion and became a Christian. I was baptized and confirmed in the Episcopal Church. I married my wife under the holy bonds of matrimony, and am trying to live an upright life. In the roaming life, I fought, I took many scalps, and killed many Indians. Now, put alongside of that the fact that I live in my own home, own my land, have my own family, and am a church member. I like the last life better than the first. In the former life while we lived to ourselves, we were always fighting; in the life now we have peace. The one thing now that is killing me off is our mode of life. There is too much confinement; instead of fighting the enemy, I am fighting disease. The white people know about everything, but if they can kill that foul disease, consumption, I shall feel very thankful. As I told you before, I think of the buffalo time, the meat, and the hides, and the desire for it seems almost like a disease, and this is especially true with the old men.”

When asked about his belief concerning the Indian's hereafter, before he became a Christian, he replied: “There was no definite Supreme Being that we believed in. There were a great many gods that we had faith in. I prayed to my own god; then we all heard that after we died we would meet in some good country where we would all be happy. No matter if we had lots of gods, we would all meet in that country. Now, while I cannot read the Bible, nor can I understand the Bible, yet we have preachers in our own language and they tell us that there is one God, and also His Holy Son, and we shall all meet in heaven, and I believe in that. A great many of the Sioux are followers like I am, but like a great many other people, there are many who do one thing and feel another. In the old days the sun was my god, the sun was my fathef's god, and I then thought the sun was my father and the earth was my mother. I sang and danced to the sun; I have my breast and arms tattooed with the sun, and I pierced my body through offering sacrifices to the sun. Now I look back upon those old Indian customs as foolishness. It is like a man coming out of darkness into light. I was then in the dark; I am now going into the valley of light, learning every day.”

Folklore Tales – Sioux

Pretty Voice Eagle reached the other pole of life when his thoughts went back to the time when the old folks gathered around the campfire, and as a small lad he listened to their oft-repeated stories. “I can hardly remember them, but I will tell you a short story: There was a great big spider carrying a big roll of straw on his back, and he was running along between two lakes. There was a great big flock of geese on one of the lakes. One of the geese yelled over to the spider: ‘Spider, where are you going?’ The spider said: ‘You hush up now! I have heard there is a camp of Indians over here who have returned from a victory with many scalps, and they sent for me with my songs. I have them all in the bundle on my back, and I am taking them over to them.’ The spider kept on going, and one of the geese told him: ‘You stop, and give us one of those songs you are taking over there.’ The spider kept on going; said he was in a terrible hurry, but he still kept making the circle of the lake; he wanted the geese to yell to him again, which they did, and finally the spider yelled over to the geese: ‘If you want one of my songs, come over here.’ The spider made a little booth of straw. He had a little stick and was standing in the door. When the geese came over he told them to go in the booth, and when they did so, he sang a song, and told every one to close his eyes, for every one who opened his eyes would have red eyes. Of course they all closed their eyes, and he set about knocking them all down. One of the geese happened to open his eyes, and he called out to the other geese: ‘Open your eyes and fly away; this spider is going to kill you all!’ and he flew away. The spider said: ‘You will have red eyes forever!’ And so it is that the duck called hell-diver has red eyes.”

Here is another story: There was a solitary man going along, and he had a lot of meat on his back. On his journey he stopped under some trees, built a great big fire, and was broiling some of the meat that he was carrying. The branches of two trees standing near got crossed over each other and when the wind blew made a squeaking noise. The man looked up to the tree, and said: “My brothers, you quit fighting up there!” The creaking continued, and he called up to them again to stop their fighting. But it still continued, and he finally said: “I am going to part you two; you must stop fighting.” And he put his hand up between the two branches; as he put his hand between them the wind stopped blowing. His hand was caught and he was not able to get away. Just then a wolf passed along, and the man saw him and called out to him: “Go on about your business, and let my things alone.” The wolf did not know anything about the broiled meat being there, but when this man called to him, he said to himself: “That man must have something for me,” and he walked over to the broiled beef, took it all, and went his way. After the wolf had gone the wind blew again, and the man released his hand, and the squeaking began again. The man cried, and was sorry in his heart, and began trailing the wolf by his tracks. He went on till he came to a body of water, in which he plunged. He looked down into the water, and saw the wolf eating his meat. He dove down into the water, and felt all around and was nearly exhausted when he came out. He then got up in a tree and when the water became still again, there was the wolf down in the water again, so the man got down and tied a rope around his belt, piled some rocks on his side so he could stay down there long enough to get the wolf. During all this time the wolf was on the branch of the tree above him; the reflection of the wolf was in the water. When the man got down in the water, the weight of the rocks held him there, and he began to struggle to get out, and just barely succeeded in getting out of the water. Just as he got out of the water, he looked up and saw the wolf on the top of the tree. The man's sides were so filled with stones that he had great difficulty in getting up the steep bank, so much so that he could hardly crawl to the top of the bank, and as he was struggling to get out, the wolf finished eating the meat, jumped down, and ran away. So ends the story.

The life of the Indian is complex. To gather up the sixty-eight years of this man's life means that we round out a problem of infinite dimensions. His cradle lullaby, a war song; his earliest memories, stained with the blood of the white man; his unshaken valour on the field of battle; scars left on his soul by the broken treaties of the white man; his devotion to the mysterious gods in the pantheon of Nature; his unrequited lament at the loss of the buffalo; his natural eloquence born from the throne room of Nature: his final love of peace and acceptance of the shining face of the Son of Righteousness all lay upon civilization the heavy hand of condemnation.

Chief White Horse

“My father told me I was born in the Black Hills. Ever since I can remember my people have lived on the shores of the Bad River, South Dakota. While I lived there I saw the white people for the first time coming up the river in the big boats. At this time the buffalo were on both sides of the Missouri River, and there was plenty of game and we were all living fat at that time. It was not very long before the fort was built at the mouth of the Bad River. My father liked to be with the white people, and we were up at the store a good deal. The fort finally became a great trading post. The Indians brought in skins of the various animals, such as beaver, wolf, fox, panther, and buffalo. While I was still a young boy I left that section of the country and came further west with the other Indians. I have always tried to live without making any trouble among my own people or with the whites. When I got out among the Sioux I began to learn some of their wild tricks. I began to learn to fight the other Indians. I then went on the warpath, and have been in a good many Indian fights. One fight in particular against the Assinaboines I want to mention. In this battle there were about two hundred of us Sioux. The fight was on the Missouri River. There were charges and countercharges several times. One of the bravest came in advance of the others but he had to retreat. I put two arrows in his back and then rushed up and knocked him off his horse with my bow. After I had knocked this man off his horse my own horse ran away with me and ran right into the enemy's line, dashing in among the foe. They were firing arrows at me from all sides, and I expected that this was my last day. This was the greatest fight I was ever in, though I have been in many others.”

It is a long step from the spear to the ploughshare, but the moccasined feet of White Horse soon took the step. Concerning this epoch in his life, he said: “The most important event in my life was when the Government began to give annuities to the Indians and we were placed on the reservation. I have always been a leader of the Indians and a chief. When farming implements were assigned us, and the allotments made, I was appointed head farmer over the Indians. I visited the Indians all over my district, and tried to get them to till the soil and send their children to school. I sent my own boy to school first as an example to the others. I sent my children to a nearby school until they were old enough and then I was one of the first to send my children to Hampton, Virginia, to school. They all came home and died of consumption. About this time the first missionary came to our country, and I was one of the first to be converted to the Church. I have since done all I could to bring the other Indians into the Church. I went at my own expense down to the place where I now live. There were no people living there at the time, and I cut out of the woods the logs and built a church in my own home. I had no help. The Indians came there to church, and afterward they named the church the White Horse Church. After this a settlement was made here by the Indians, and finally the Government made a post-office at this place, and they called it the White Horse post-office. It has since become a sub-agency. The influence thus brought to bear on the Indians had led them to live a good deal as the white man lives. I have my farm now, raise cattle and horses. All I have done for the Government and for the Church I have been glad to do, for they have all been kind to me. While other Indians have been fighting and making trouble for the United States I have never participated in any of it.”

Before passing to the folklore tale that fell from the lips of Chief White Horse, the attention of the reader is especially directed to the chapter on Indian Impressions of the last Great Council, where White Horse describes his feelings and the lessons he learned while riding for the first time on the iron horse.

Folklore Tales – Yankton Sioux

“In the evenings of my boyhood days my father always told stories. I remember that I used to go to sleep while he was telling stories. This is one of the stories he used to tell: There goes a wolf on a journey. He came upon three buffalo. The wolf said to the buffalo: ‘My brothers, make me as one of you, and we will all live together.’ The buffalo told him: ‘Will you stand the life that we live?’ The wolf said ‘Yes,’ and they all told him to go a distance off and lie down on his back. The buffalo was going to make the wolf a buffalo, and he lay down on his back and sides and rolled in the dust, and then he got up and shook himself and he then made a plunge for the wolf and stuck his horns in him and threw him in the air. Just as he got to the wolf, the wolf jumped aside, and the buffalo said: ‘You made me make that hard run for nothing.’ The wolf said: ‘Try again.’ The buffalo said: ‘This time you stand up and I will come at you.’ So the wolf stood a good ways off. Just as the buffalo reached the wolf, the wolf turned into a buffalo, and they locked horns with each other. And thus he became a strong buffalo. He roamed with the buffalo for a while. The other buffalo went off a little way by themselves and grazed on the grass while the wolf-buffalo took the first grass near where he stood. While he was eating there another wolf came along, and he said to the buffalo: ‘Make me a buffalo, and we will all be brothers together.’ This wolf buffalo then told the wolf to stand just as he had stood before. This wolf buffalo lay down on his back and rolled in the dust and went for the wolf, and as he was going to strike him he turned back again into a wolf, and the two wolves were there together fighting. The wolf buffalo said: ‘I was happy as a buffalo, and was living fat – why did you come around here and make me into a wolf again?’ And he began to fight him. And thus the story ends. And this is why the Indians are always fighting each other.”

Chief Bear Ghost

The great Siouan, or Dakota family, is divided into many different tribes. They are the dislocated remains of the “Seven Great Council Fires.” The Indians resent the title of Sioux, meaning “Hated Foe,” and prefer the word Dakota, which means “Leagued,” or “Allied.” There is the Brule Sioux, meaning “Burnt Hip”; the Teton, “On a Land without Trees”; the Santee Sioux, “Men Among Leaves,” a forest; the Sisseton Sioux, “Men of Prairie Marsh,” and the Yankton Sioux, which means, “At the End.” Chief Bear Ghost is a Yankton Sioux. Among the Dakotas the chiefs are distinguished by a name that has either some reference to their abilities, having signalized themselves on the warpath or in the chase, or it may be handed down from father to son. Chief Bear Ghost bears the hereditary name of his father, Mato-wanagi – the ghost of a bear. The Dakotas count their years by winters, and all their records are called winter counts. They say a man is so many snows old, or that so many snow-seasons have occurred since a certain period. Adopting their own phrasing Chief Ghost Bear is fifty-seven snows old. Custer was not poetical when he gave the Sioux the name of “cut-throats,” but he may have been true to the character and history of these fierce and warlike tribes. We may not wonder then that Bear Ghost should say: “The greatest event in my life was the participation in two great wars. I was on the warpath on the Missouri River against the Gros Ventres and the Mandans. It was a hard, fierce struggle; we had been facing and shooting each other from early dawn until the sun went down. An Indian near me, an enemy, was shot, and when I went after him my horse was shot, but still I pressed on and struck the enemy with a tomahawk. One of the enemy aimed at me, but I struck him with the tomahawk before he could shoot, and when this struggle was over the Indians called us men. In other years we came to that same place again. Two enemies were near the camp; they were armed with guns. There were seven of the enemy and but two of us. We went right up to the camp. I shot one of the enemy and wounded him, and captured one of their horses. Then a great number of Indians came out and chased us. They surrounded us, shooting all the while, and the horse I had taken from the enemy I shot rather than let them have it. And while they were chasing me my horse became exhausted and I had to get off and lead him. I ran into the creek where my enemies were on the banks shooting at me. These two things I consider the greatest events in my life, for I expected to die each time. Then I was made head chief of my tribe.”

Before the police system was established on the reservation, Bear Ghost, along with one other Indian, was detailed by Captain Daugherty to watch for and capture a man who had committed murder. Bear Ghost succeeded in carrying out this commission, and the sheriff was sent for and the prisoner turned over to him, but on the way to Bismarck the prisoner killed the sheriff, jumped onto the best horse, and made his escape. Bear Ghost has often been chosen by his people to represent them at councils held among other tribes. He was also sent to Washington, on matters pertaining to treaties made years ago. He wears the countenance of a Roman senator; he is tall, graceful, and full of dignity, a forceful and convincing speaker, and a compelling advocate of peace.