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While we know our northern friends may not feel it, in the South, Spring is
here. So we thought we'd share a few of our gardening sites appropriate
for this time of the year. Along with gardening, there's grilling, and getting
ready to diet so that you can fit back into that bathing suit this summer!
Introduction to the Dahcotah, Dahcotas,
Dahkota, Dah-ko-tah
By Mrs. Mary Eastman
However they may have been improved, no one could have had better
opportunities than I, to acquire all information of interest respecting these
Indians. I lived among them seven years. The chiefs from far and near were
constantly visiting the Fort, and were always at our house. Not a sentiment is
in the Legends that I did not hear from the lips of the Indian man or woman.
They looked on my husband as their friend, and talked to him freely on all
subjects, whether of religion, customs, or grievances. They were frequently told
that I was writing about them, that every body might know what great warriors
they were.
The men were sometimes astonished at the boldness with
which I reproved them, though it raised me much in their estimation. I remember
taking Bad Hail, one of their chiefs, to task, frequently; and on one occasion
he told me, by way of showing his gratitude for the interest I took in his
character, that he had three wives, all of whom he would give up if I would
"leave Eastman, and come and live with him." I received his proposition,
however, with Indian indifference, merely replying that I did not fancy having
my head split open every few days with a stick of wood. He laughed heartily
after his fashion, conscious that the cap fitted, for he was in the habit of
expending all his surplus bad temper upon his wives. I have sometimes thought,
that if, when a warrior, be he chief or commoner, throws a stick of wood at his
wife's head, she were to cast it back at his, he might, perhaps, be taught
better behavior. But I never dared to instill such insubordinate notions into
the heads of my Sioux female friends, lest some ultra "brave," in a desperate
rage, might substitute the tomahawk for the log. These opinions, too, might have
made me unpopular with Sioux and Turks and, perchance, with some of my more
enlightened friends, who are self-constituted "lords of creation."
I noticed that Indians, like white people, instead of
confessing and forsaking their sins, were apt to excuse themselves by telling
how much worse their neighbors were. When told how wicked it was to have more
than one wife, they defended themselves by declaring that the
Winnebago had twice or thrice as many as the Sioux. The attempt to make one
right of two wrongs seems to be instinctive.
I wished to learn correctly the Indian songs which they
sing in celebrating their dances. I sent for a chief, Little Hill, who is a
famous singer, but with little perseverance as a teacher of music. He soon lost
all patience with me, refused to continue the lesson, declaring that he could
never make me sing like a Sioux squaw. The low, guttural notes created the
difficulty. He very quickly became tired of my piano and singing. The chiefs and
medicine men always answered my questions readily, respecting their laws and
religion; but, to insure good humor, they must first have something to eat. All
the scraps of food collected in the kitchen; cold beef, cold buckwheat cakes;
nothing went amiss, especially as to quantity. Pork is their delight apples they
are particularly fond of and, in the absence of fire-water, molasses and water
is a most acceptable beverage. Then they had to smoke and nod a little before
the fire and by and by I heard all about the Great Spirit, and Hookah the Giant,
and the powers of the Sacred Medicine. All that is said in this book of their
religion, laws, and sentiments, I learned from themselves, and most of the
incidents occurred precisely as they are represented. Some few have been varied,
but only where it might happily illustrate a peculiar custom or opinion.
Their medicine men, priests, and jugglers, are
proverbially the greatest scamps of the tribe. My dear father must forgive me
for reflecting so harshly on his brother practitioners, and be reconciled when
he hears that they belong to the corps of quacks; for they doubt their own
powers, and are constantly imposing on the credulity of others. On returning
from an evening walk, we met, near the fort, a notable procession. First came an
old medicine man, whose Indian name I cannot recall; but the children of the
garrison called him "Old Sneak" a most appropriate appellation, for he always
looked as if he had just committed murder, and was afraid of being found out. On
this occasion he looked particularly in character. What a representative of the
learned faculty! After him, in Indian file, came his wife and children, a most
cadaverous looking set. To use a western phrase, they all looked as if they were
"just dug up." Their appearance was accounted for in the following ludicrous
manner the story is doubtless substantially true. There was a quantity of refuse
medicine that had been collecting in the hospital at the fort, and Old Sneak
happened to be present at a general clearing out. The medicine was given to him;
and away he went to his home, hugging it up close to him like a veritable old
miser. It was too precious to be shared with his neighbors; the medicine of the
white man was "wahkun" (wonderful) and, carrying out the principle that the more
of a good thing the better, he, with his wife and children, took it all! I felt
assured that the infant strapped to its mother's back was dying at that time.
The "dog dance" is held by the Sioux in great
reverence; and the first time it has been celebrated near the fort for many
years, was about five summers ago.
The Chippeway, with their chief, "Hole in the Day,"
were down on a visit, and the prairie outside the fort was covered with Indians
of both tribes. The Chippeway sat on the grass at a little distance, watching
the Sioux as they danced, "to show how brave they were, and how they could eat
the hearts of their enemies." Most of the officers and ladies of the garrison
were assembled on the hospital gallery to witness the dance.
The Sioux warriors formed a circle; in the centre was a pole fastened in the
ground. One of the Indians killed a dog, and, taking out the heart and liver,
held them for a few moments in a bucket of cold water, and then hung them to the
pole. After awhile, one of the warriors advanced towards it, barking. His
attitude was irresistibly droll; he tried to make himself look as much as
possible like a dog, and I thought he succeeded to admiration. He retreated, and
another warrior advanced with a different sort of bark; more joined in, until
there was a chorus of barking. Next, one becomes very courageous, jumps and
barks towards the pole, biting off a piece of the flesh; another follows and
does the same feat. One after another they all bark and bite. "Let dogs delight"
would have been, an appropriate melody for the occasion. They had to hold their
heads back to swallow the morceau it was evidently hard work. Several dogs were
killed in succession, when, seeing some of the warriors looking pale and deadly
sick, Captain E. determined to try how many of their enemies' hearts they could
dispose of. He went down among the Indians and purchased another dog. They could
not refuse to eat the heart. It made even the bravest men sick to swallow the
last mouthful they were pale as death. I saw the last of it, and although John
Gilpin's ride might be a desirable sight, yet when the Sioux celebrate another
dog feast, "may I not be there to see."
Our intercourse with the Sioux was greatly facilitated,
and our influence over them much increased, by the success attending my
husband's efforts to paint their portraits. They thought it supernatural (wahkun)
to be represented on canvas. Some were prejudiced against sitting, others'
esteemed it a great compliment to be asked, but all expected to be paid for it.
And if anything were wanting to complete our opportunities for gaining all
information that was of interest, we found it in the daguerreotype. Captain E.,
knowing they were about to celebrate a feast he wished to paint in group, took
his apparatus out, and, when they least expected it, transferred the group to
his plate. The awe, consternation, astonishment and admiration, surpassed
description. "Ho! Eastman is all wahkun!"
The Indians are fond of boasting and communicating
their exploits and usages to those who have their confidence. While my husband
has delineated their features with the pencil, I have occupied pleasantly many
an hour in learning from them how to represent accurately the feelings and
features of their hearts feeble though my pen be. We never failed to gain a
point by providing a good breakfast or dinner.
With the Rev. Mr. Pond and Dr. Williamson, both
missionaries among the Sioux, I had many a pleasant interview and talk about the
tribe. They kindly afforded me every assistance and as they are perfectly
acquainted with the language of the Sioux, and have studied their religion with
the view to introduce the only true one, I could not have applied to more
enlightened sources, or better authority.
The day we left Fort Snelling, I received from Mr. Pond
the particulars of the fate of the Sioux woman who was taken prisoner by the
Chippeway, and who is represented in the legend called The Wife. Soon after her
return to her husband, he was killed by the Chippeway; and the difficulty was
settled by the Chippeway paying to the Sioux what was considered the value of
the murdered man, in goods, such as calico, tobacco, &c.! After his death, the
widow married a Sioux, named "Scarlet Face." They lived harmoniously for a while
but soon difficulties arose, and Scarlet Face, in a fit of savage rage, beat her
to death. A most unromantic conclusion to her eventful life.
How vivid is our recollection of the grief the Sioux
showed at parting with us. For although, at the time, it added to the pain
naturally felt at leaving a place which had so long been our home; yet the
sincere affection they evinced towards us and our children was most gratifying.
They wished us to remember them, when far away, with kindness. The farewell of
my friend Checkered Cloud can never be forgotten. She was my constant visitor
for years; and, although a poor and despised Sioux woman, I learned to look upon
her with respect and regard. Nor does my interest in her and her nation cease,
because, in the chances of life, we may never meet again. It will still be my
endeavor to depict all the customs, feasts and ceremonies of the Sioux, before
it be too late. The account of them may be interesting, when the people who so
long believed in them will be no more.
We can see they are passing away, but who can decide
the interesting question of their origin? They told me that their nation had
always lived in the valley of the Mississippi that their wise men had asserted
this for ages past. Some who have lived among them, think they crossed over from
Persia in ships and that they once possessed the knowledge of building large
vessels, though they have now entirely lost it. This idea bears too little
probability to command any confidence. The most general opinion is the often
told one, that they are a remnant of God's ancient and chosen people. Be this as
it may, they are "as the setting sun, or as the autumn leaves trampled upon by
powerful riders."
They are receding rapidly, and with feeble resistance,
before the giant strides of civilization. The hunting grounds of a few savages
will soon become the haunts of densely peopled, civilized settlements. We should
be better reconciled to this manifest destiny of the aborigines, if the inroads
of civilization were worthy of it; if the last years of these, in some respects,
noble people, were lit up with the hope-inspiring rays of Christianity. We are
not to judge the Heathen; yet universal evidence gives the melancholy fact, that
the light of nature does not lead the soul to God: and without judging of their
destiny, we are bound to enlighten their minds. We know the great Being of whom
they are ignorant; and well will it be for them and for us, in a day that awaits
us all, if yet, though late, sadly late yet not too late, we so give countenance
and aid to the missionary, that the light of revealed truth may cheer the
remaining period of their national and individual, existence.
Will it be said that I am regarding, with partial eye
and sentimental romance, but one side of the Sioux character? Have they no
faults, as a people and individually? They are savages and that goes far to
answer the question. Perhaps the best answer is, the women have faults enough,
and the men twice as many as the women. But if to be a savage is to be cruel,
vindictive, ferocious dare we say that to be a civilized man necessarily implies
freedom from these traits?
Want of truth, and habitual dishonesty in little
things, are prevalent traits among the Sioux. Most of them will take a kitchen
spoon or fork, if they have a chance and they think it fair thus to return the
peculations of the whites. They probably have an idea of making up for the low
price at which their lands have been valued, by maintaining a constant system of
petty thefts or perhaps they consider kitchen utensils as curiosities, just as
the whites do their moccasins and necklaces of bear's claws. Yes it must be
confessed, however unsentimental, they almost all steal.
The men think it undignified for them to steal, so they
send their wives thus unlawfully to procure what they want and wo be to them if
they are found out. The husband would shame and beat his wife for doing what he
certainly would have beaten her for refusing to do. As regards the honesty of
the men, I give you the opinion of the husband of Checkered Cloud, who was an
excellent Indian. "Every Sioux;" said he, "will steal if he need, and there be a
chance. The best Indian that ever lived, has stolen. I myself once stole some
powder."
I have thus, perhaps tediously, endeavored to show,
that what is said in this work has been learned by intimate association, and
that for years, with the Indian. This association has continued under influences
that secured unreservedly their confidence, friendship and I may say truly, in
many instances their affection. If the perusal of the Legends give pleasure to
my friends how happy am I! To do more than this I hardly dare hope.
