Indian Boyhood - Parts III-V



Part III - My Plays and Playmates

Games and Sports

   THE Indian boy was a prince of the wilderness. He had but very little 
work to do during the period of his boyhood. His principal occupation was 
the practice of a few simple arts in warfare and the chase. Aside from 
this, he was master of his time. 

   Whatever was required of us boys was quickly performed: then the field 
was clear for our games and plays. There was always keen competition among 
us. We felt very much as our fathers did in hunting and war -- each one 
strove to excel all the others. 

   It is true that our savage life was a precarious one, and full of 
dreadful catastrophes; however, this never prevented us from enjoying our 
sports to the fullest extent. As we left our teepees in the morning, we 
were never sure that our scalps would not dangle from a pole in the 
afternoon! 

Page 61

It was an uncertain life, to be sure. Yet we observed that the fawns 
skipped and played happily while the gray wolves might be peeping forth 
from behind the hills, ready to tear them limb from limb. 

   Our sports were molded by the life and customs of our people; indeed, 
we practiced only what we expected to do when grown. Our games were feats 
with the bow and arrow, foot and pony races, wrestling, swimming and 
imitation of the customs and habits of our fathers. We had sham fights 
with mud balls and willow wands; we played lacrosse, made war upon bees, 
shot winter arrows (which were used only in that season), and coasted upon 
the ribs of animals and buffalo robes. 

   No sooner did the boys get together than, as a usual thing, they 
divided into squads and chose sides; then a leading arrow was shot at 
random into the air. Before it fell to the ground a volley from the bows 
of the participants followed. Each player was quick to note the direction 
and speed of the leading arrow and he tried to send his own at the same 
speed and at an equal height, so that when it fell it would be closer to 
the first than any of the others. 

   It was considered out of place to shoot by first sighting the object 
aimed at. This was usually 

Page 62

impracticable in actual life, because the object was almost always in 
motion, while the hunter himself was often upon the back of a pony at full 
gallop. Therefore, it was the off-hand shot that the Indian boy sought to 
master. There was another game with arrows that was characterized by 
gambling, and was generally confined to the men. 

   The races were an every-day occurrence. At noon the boys were usually 
gathered by some pleasant sheet of water and as soon as the ponies were 
watered, they were allowed to graze for an hour or two, while the boys 
stripped for their noonday sports. A boy might say to some other whom he 
considered his equal: 

   "I can't run; but I will challenge you to fifty paces." 

   A former hero, when beaten, would often explain his defeat by saying: " 
I drank too much water." 

   Boys of all ages were paired for a "spin," and the little red men 
cheered on their favorites with spirit. 

   As soon as this was ended, the pony races followed. All the speedy 
ponies were picked out and riders chosen. If a boy declined to ride, there 
would be shouts of derision. 

   Last of all came the swimming. A little urchin 

Page 66

would hang to his pony's long tail, while the latter, with only his head 
above water, glided sportively along. Finally the animals were driven into 
a fine field of grass and we turned our attention to other games. 

   Lacrosse was an older game and was confined entirely to the Sisseton 
and Santee Sioux. Shinny, such as is enjoyed by white boys on the ice, is 
still played on the open prairie by the western Sioux. The "moccasin
game," although sometimes played by the boys, was intended mainly for 
adults. 

   The "mud-and-willow" fight was rather a severe and dangerous sport. A 
lump of soft clay was stuck on the end of a limber and springy willow wand 
and thrown as boys throw apples from sticks, with considerable force. When 
there were fifty or a hundred players on each side, the battle became 
warm; but anything to arouse the bravery of Indian boys seemed to them a 
good and wholesome diversion. 

   Wrestling was largely indulged in by us all. It may seem odd,, but 
wrestling was done by a great many boys at once -- from ten to any number 
on a side. It was really a battle, in which each one chose his opponent. 
The rule was that if a boy sat down, he was let alone, but as long as he 
remained standing within the field, he was open to 

Page 67

an attack. No one struck with the hand, but all manner of tripping with 
legs and feet and butting with the knees was allowed. Altogether it was an 
exhausting pastime -- fully equal to the American game of football and 
only the young athlete could really enjoy it. 

   One of our most curious sports was a war upon the nests of wild bees. 
We imagined ourselves about to make an attack upon the Ojibways or some 
tribal foe. We all painted and stole cautiously upon the nest; then, with 
a rush and warwhoop, sprang upon the object of our attack and endeavored 
to destroy it. But it seemed that the bees were always on the alert and 
never entirely surprised, for they always raised quite as many scalps as 
did their bold assailants! After the onslaught upon the nest was ended, we 
usually followed it by a pretended scalp dance. 

   On the occasion of my first experience in this mode of warfare, there 
were two other little boys who were also novices. One of them particularly 
was really too young to indulge in an exploit of that kind. As it was the 
custom of our people, when they killed or wounded an enemy on the battle 
field, to announce the act in a loud voice, we did the same. My friend, 
Little Wound (as I will call him, for I do not remember his name), being 

Page 68

quite small, was unable to reach the nest until it had been well trampled 
upon and broken and the insects had made a counter charge with such vigor 
as to repulse and scatter our numbers in every direction. However, he 
evidently did not want to retreat without any honors; so he bravely jumped 
upon the nest and yelled: 

   "I, the brave Little Wound, to-day kill the only fierce enemy!" 

   Scarcely were the last words uttered when he screamed as if stabbed to 
the heart. One of his older companions shouted: 

   "Dive into the water! Run! Dive into the water!" for there was a lake 
near by. This advice he obeyed. 

   When we had reassembled and were indulging in our mimic dance, Little 
Wound was not allowed to dance. He was considered not to be in 
existence -- he had been killed by our enemies, the Bee tribe. Poor little 
fellow! His swollen face was sad and ashamed as he sat on a fallen log and 
watched the dance. Although he might well have styled himself one of the 
noble dead who had died for their country, yet he was not unmindful that 
he had screamed, and this weakness would be apt to recur to him many times 
in the future. 

   We had some quiet plays which we alternated 

Page 69

with the more severe and warlike ones. Among them were throwing wands and 
snow-arrows. In the winter we coasted much. We had no "double-rippers" or 
toboggans, but six or seven of the long ribs of a buffalo, fastened 
together at the larger end, answered all practical purposes. Sometimes a 
strip of bass-wood bark, four feet long and about six inches wide, was 
used with considerable skill. We stood on one end and held the other, 
using the slippery inside of the bark for the outside, and thus coasting 
down long hills with remarkable speed. 

   The spinning of tops was one of the all-absorbing winter sports. We 
made our tops heart shaped of wood, horn or bone. We whipped them with a 
long thong of buckskin. The handle was a stick about a foot long and 
sometimes we whittled the stick to make it spoon-shaped at one end. 

   We played games with these tops -- two to fifty boys at one time. Each 
whips his top until it hums; then one takes the lead and the rest follow 
in a sort of obstacle race. The top must spin all the way through. There 
were bars of snow over which we must pilot our top in the spoon end of our 
whip; then again we would toss it in the air on to another open spot of 
ice or smooth snow

Page 70

crust from twenty to fifty paces away. The top that holds out the longest 
is the winner. 

   Sometimes we played "medicine dance." This, to us, was almost what 
"playing church" is among white children, but our people seemed to think 
it an act of irreverence to imitate these dances, therefore performances 
of this kind were always enjoyed in secret. We used to observe all the 
important ceremonies and it required something of an actor to reproduce 
the dramatic features of the dance. The real dances occupied a day and a 
night, and the program was long and varied, so that it was not easy to 
execute all the details perfectly; but the Indian children are born 
imitators. 

   The boys built an arbor of pine boughs in some out-of-the-way place and 
at one end of it was a rude lodge. This was the medicine lodge or 
headquarters. All the initiates were there. At the further end or entrance 
were the door-keepers or soldiers, as we called them. The members of each 
lodge entered in a body, standing in single file and facing the 
headquarters. Each stretched out his right hand and a prayer was offered 
by the leader, after which they took the places assigned to them. 

   When the preliminaries had been completed, 

Page 71

our leader sounded the big drum and we all said "A-ho-ho-ho!" as a sort of 
amen. Then the choir began their song and whenever they ended a verse, we 
all said again "A-ho-ho-ho!" At last they struck up the chorus and we all 
got upon our feet and began to dance, by simply lifting up one foot and 
then the other, with a slight swing to the body. 

   Each boy was representing or imitating some one of the medicine men. We 
painted and decorated ourselves just as they did and carried bird or 
squirrel skins, or occasionally live birds and chipmunks as our medicine 
bags and small white shells or pebbles for medicine charms. 

   Then the persons to be initiated were brought in and seated, with much 
ceremony, upon a blanket or buffalo robe. Directly in front of them the 
ground was levelled smooth and here we laid an old pipe filled with dried 
leaves for tobacco. Around it we placed the variously colored feathers of 
the birds we had killed, and cedar and sweet-grass we burned for incense. 

   Finally those of us who had been selected to perform this ceremony 
stretched out our arms at full length, holding the sacred medicine bags 
and aiming them at the new members. After swinging them four times, we 
shot them suddenly forward, but did not 

Page 72

let go. The novices then fell forward on their faces as if dead. Quickly a 
chorus was struck up and we all joined in a lively dance around the 
supposed bodies. The girls covered them up with their blankets, thus 
burying the dead. At last we resurrected them with our charms and led them 
to their places among the audience. Then came the last general dance and 
the final feast. 

   I was often selected as choir-master on these occasions, for I had 
happened to learn many of the medicine songs and was quite an apt mimic. 
My grandmother, who was a noted medicine woman of the Turtle lodge, on 
hearing of these sacrilegious acts (as she called them) warned me that if 
any of the medicine men should discover them, they would punish me 
terribly by shriveling my limbs with slow disease. 

   Occasionally, we also played "white man." Our knowledge of the pale-
face was limited, but we had learned that he brought goods whenever he 
came and that our people exchanged furs for his merchandise. We also knew 
that his complexion was pale, that he had short hair on his head and long 
hair on his face and that he wore coat, trousers, and hat, and did not 
patronize blankets in the daytime. This was the picture we had formed of 
the white man. 

Page 73

   So we painted two or three of our number with white clay and put on 
them birchen hats which we sewed up for the occasion; fastened a piece of 
fur to their chins for a beard and altered their costumes as much as lay 
within our power. The white of the birch-bark was made to answer for their 
white shirts. Their merchandise consisted of sand for sugar, wild beans 
for coffee, dried leaves for tea, pulverized earth for gun-powder, pebbles 
for bullets and clear water for the dangerous "spirit water." We traded 
for these goods with skins of squirrels, rabbits and small birds. 

   When we played "hunting buffalo" we would send a few good runners off 
on the open prairie with a supply of meat; then start a few equally swift 
boys to chase them and capture the food. Once we were engaged in this 
sport when a real hunt by the men was in progress; yet we did not realize 
that it was so near until, in the midst of our play, we saw an immense 
buffalo coming at full speed directly toward us. Our mimic buffalo hunt 
turned into a very real buffalo scare. Fortunately, we were near the edge 
of the woods and we soon disappeared among the leaves like a covey of 
young prairie-chickens and some hid in the bushes while others took refuge 
in tall trees. 

   We loved to play in the water. When we had 

Page 74

no ponies, we often had swimming matches of our own and sometimes made 
rafts with which we crossed lakes and rivers. It was a common thing to 
"duck" a young or timid boy or to carry him into deep water to struggle as 
best he might. 

   I remember a perilous ride with a companion on an unmanageable log, 
when we were both less than seven years old. The older boys had put us on 
this uncertain bark and pushed us out into the swift current of the river. 
I cannot speak for my comrade in distress, but I can say now that I would 
rather ride on a swift bronco any day than try to stay on and steady a 
short log in a river. I never knew how we managed to prevent a shipwreck 
on that voyage and to reach the shore. 

   We had many curious wild pets. There were young foxes, bears, wolves, 
raccoons, fawns, buffalo calves and birds of all kinds, tamed by various 
boys. My pets were different at different times, but I particularly 
remember one. I once had a grizzly bear for a pet and so far as he and I 
were concerned, our relations were charming and very close. But I hardly 
know whether he made more enemies for me or I for him. It was his habit to 
treat every boy 

Page 75

or his conduct in my interest and I was hated on account of his 
interference.


My Playmates

   CHATANNA was the brother with whom I passed much of my early childhood. 
From the time that I was old enough to play with boys, this brother was my 
close companion. He was a handsome boy, and an affectionate comrade. We 
played together, slept together and ate together; and as Chatanna was 
three years the older, I naturally looked up to him as to a superior. 

   Oesedah was a beautiful little character. She was my cousin, and four 
years younger than myself. Perhaps none of my early playmates are more 
vividly remembered than is this little maiden. 

   The name given her by a noted medicine-man was Makah-oesetopah-win. It 
means The-four-corners-of-the-earth. As she was rather small, the 
abbreviation with a diminutive termination was considered more 
appropriate, hence Oesedah became her common name. 

   Although she had a very good mother, Un-cheedah was her efficient 
teacher and chaperon 

Page 76

Such knowledge as my grandmother deemed suitable to a maiden was duly 
impressed upon her susceptible mind. When I was not in the woods with 
Chatanna, Oesedah was my companion at home; and when I returned from my 
play at evening, she would have a hundred questions ready for me to 
answer. Some of these were questions concerning our every-day life, and 
others were more difficult problems which had suddenly dawned upon her 
active little mind. Whatever had occurred to interest her during the day 
was immediately repeated for my benefit. 

   There were certain questions upon which Oesedah held me to be 
authority, and asked with the hope of increasing her little store of 
knowledge. I have often heard her declare to her girl companions: "I know 
it is true; Ohiyesa said so!" Uncheedah was partly responsible for this, 
for when any questions came up which lay within the sphere of man's 
observation, she would say: 

   "Ohiyesa ought to know that: he is a man -- I am not! You had better 
ask him." 

   The truth was that she had herself explained to me many of the subjects 
under discussion. 

   I was occasionally referred to little Oesedah in the same manner, and I 
always accepted her childish elucidations of any matter upon which I had 

Page 77

been advised to consult her, because I knew the source of her wisdom. In 
this simple way we were made to be teachers of one another. 

   Very often we discussed some topic before our common instructor, or 
answered her questions together, in order to show which had the readier 
mind. 

   "To what tribe does the lizard belong?" inquired Uncheedah, upon one of 
these occasions. 

   "To the four-legged tribe," I shouted. 

   Oesedah, with her usual quickness, flashed out the answer: 

   "It belongs to the creeping tribe." 

   The Indians divided all animals into four general classes: 1st, those 
that walk upon four legs; 2nd, those that fly; 3rd, those that swim with 
fins; 4th, those that creep. 

   Of course I endeavored to support my assertion that the lizard belongs 
where I had placed it, be-. cause he has four distinct legs which propel 
him everywhere, on the ground or in the water. But my opponent claimed 
that the creature under dispute does not walk, but creeps. My strongest 
argument was that it had legs; but Oesedah insisted that its body touches 
the ground as it moves. As a last resort, I volunteered to go find one, 
and demonstrate the point in question. 

Page 78

   The lizard having been brought, we smoothed off the ground and strewed 
ashes on it so that we could see the track. Then I raised the question: 
"What constitutes creeping, and what constitutes walking?" 

   Uncheedah was the judge, and she stated, without any hesitation, that 
an animal must stand clear of the ground on the support of its legs, and 
walk with the body above the legs, and not in contact with the ground, in 
order to be termed a walker; while a creeper is one that, regardless of 
its legs, if it has them, drags its body upon the ground. Upon hearing the 
judge's decision, I yielded at once to my opponent. 

   At another time, when I was engaged in a similar discussion with my 
brother Chatanna, Oesedah came to my rescue. Our grandmother had asked us: 

   "What bird shows most judgment in caring for its young?" 

   Chatanna at once exclaimed: 

   "The eagle!" but I held my peace for a moment, because I was 
confused -- so many birds came into my mind at once. I finally declared: 

   "It is the oriole!" 

   Chatanna was asked to state all the evidence that he had in support of 
the eagle's good sense in 

Page 79

rearing its young. He proceeded with an air of confidence: 

   "The eagle is the wisest of all birds. Its nest is made in the safest 
possible place, upon a high and inaccessible cliff. It provides its young 
with an abundance of fresh meat. They have the freshest of air. They are 
brought up under the spell of the grandest scenes, and inspired with lofty 
feelings and bravery. They see that all other beings live beneath them, 
and that they are the children of the King of Birds. A young eagle shows 
the spirit of a warrior while still in the nest. 

   "Being exposed to the inclemency of the weather the young eaglets are 
hardy. They are accustomed to hear the mutterings of the Thunder Bird and 
the sighings of the Great Mystery. Why, the little eagles cannot help 
being as noble as they are, because their parents selected for them so 
lofty and inspiring a home! How happy they must be when they find 
themselves above the clouds, and behold the zigzag flashes of lightning 
all about them! It must be nice to taste a piece of fresh meat up in their 
cool home, in the burning summer-time! Then when they drop down the bones 
of the game they feed upon, wolves and vultures gather beneath them, 
feeding upon their refuse. That alone would show them their chieftainship 

Page 80

over all the other birds. Isn't that so, grandmother?" Thus triumphantly 
he concluded his argument. 

   I was staggered at first by the noble speech of Chatannna, but I soon 
recovered from its effects. The little Oesedah came to my aid by saying: 
"Wait until Ohiyesa tells of the loveliness of the beautiful Oriole's 
home!" This timely remark gave me courage and I began: 

   "My grandmother, who was it said that a mother who has a gentle and 
sweet voice will have children of a good disposition? I think the oriole 
is that kind of a parent. It provides both sunshine and shadow for its 
young. Its nest is suspended from the prettiest bough of the most graceful 
tree, where it is rocked by the gentle winds; and the one we found 
yesterday was beautifully lined with soft things, both deep and warm, so 
that the little featherless birdies cannot suffer from the cold and wet." 

   Here Chatanna interrupted me to exclaim: "That is just like the white 
people -- who cares for them? The eagle teaches its young to be accustomed 
to hardships, like young warriors!" 

   Ohiyesa was provoked; he reproached his brother and appealed to the 
judge, saying that he had not finished yet. 

Page 81

   "But you would not have lived, Chatanna, if you had been exposed like 
that when you were a baby! The oriole shows wisdom in providing for its 
children a good, comfortable home! A home upon a high rock would not be 
pleasant -- it would be cold! We climbed a mountain once, and it was cold 
there; and who would care to stay in such a place when it storms? What 
wisdom is there in having a pile of rough sticks upon a bare rock, 
surrounded with ill-smelling bones of animals, for a home? Also, my uncle 
says that the eaglets seem always to be on the point of starvation. You 
have heard that whoever lives on game killed by some one else is compared 
to an eagle. Isn't that so, grandmother? 

   "The oriole suspends its nest from the lower side of a horizontal bough 
so that no enemy can approach it. It enjoys peace and beauty and safety." 

   Oesedah was at Ohiyesa's side during the discussion, and occasionally 
whispered into his ear. Uncheedah decided this time in favor of Ohiyesa. 

   We were once very short of provisions in the winter time. My uncle, our 
only means of support, was sick; and besides, we were separated from the 
rest of the tribe and in a region where there was little game of any kind. 
Oesedah had 

Page 82

a pet squirrel, and as soon as we began to economize our food had given 
portions of her allowance to her pet. 

   At last we were reduced very much, and the prospect of obtaining 
anything soon being gloomy, my grandmother reluctantly suggested that the 
squirrel should be killed for food. Thereupon my little cousin cried, and 
said: 

   "Why cannot we all die alike wanting? The squirrel's life is as dear to 
him as ours to us," and clung to it. Fortunately, relief came in time to 
save her pet. 

   Oesedah lived with us for a portion of the year, and as there were no 
other girls in the family she played much alone, and had many imaginary 
companions. At one time there was a small willow tree which she visited 
regularly, holding long conversations, a part of which she would afterward 
repeat to me. She said the willow tree was her husband, whom some magic 
had compelled to take that form; but no grown person was ever allowed to 
share her secret. 

   When I was about eight years old I had for a playmate the adopted son 
of a Sioux, who was a white captive. This boy was quite a noted personage, 
although he was then only about ten or eleven years of age. When I first 
became acquainted 

Page 83

with him we were on the upper Missouri river. I learned from him that he 
had been taken on the plains, and that both of his parents were killed. 

   He was at first sad and lonely, but soon found plenty of consolation in 
his new home. The name of his adopted father was "Keeps-the-Spotted-
Ponies." He was known to have an unusual number of the pretty calico 
ponies; indeed, he had a passion for accumulating property in the shape of 
ponies, painted tents, decorated saddles and all sorts of finery. He had 
lost his only son; but the little pale-face became the adopted brother of 
two handsome young women, his daughters. This made him quite popular among 
the young warriors. He was not slow to adopt the Indian customs, and he 
acquired the Sioux language in a short time. 

   I well remember hearing of his first experience of war. He was not more 
than sixteen when he joined a war-party against the Gros-Ventres and 
Mandans. My uncle reported that he was very brave until he was wounded in 
the ankle; then he begged with tears to be taken back to a safe place. 
Fortunately for him, his adopted father came to the rescue, and saved him 
at the risk of his own life. He was called the "pale-face Indian." His 
hair 

Page 84

grew very long and he lavished paint on his face and hair so that no one 
might suspect that he was a white man. 

   One day this boy was playing a gambling game with one of the Sioux 
warriors. He was an expert gambler, and won everything from the Indian. At 
a certain point a dispute arose. The Indian was very angry, for he 
discovered that his fellow-player had deliberately cheated him. The 
Indians were strictly honest in those days, even in their gambling. 

   The boy declared that he had merely performed a trick for the benefit 
of his friend, but it nearly cost him his life. The indignant warrior had 
already drawn his bow-string with the intention of shooting the captive, 
but a third person intervened and saved the boy's life. He at once 
explained his trick; and in order to show himself an honorable gambler, 
gave back all the articles that he had won from his opponent. In the midst 
of the confusion, old "Keeps-the-Spotted-Ponies" came rushing through the 
crowd in a state of great excitement. He thought his pale-face son had 
been killed. When he saw how matters stood, he gave the aggrieved warrior 
a pony, "in order," as he said, "that there may be no shadow between him 
and my son." 

Page 85

   One spring my uncle took Chatanna to the Canadian trading-post on the 
Assiniboine river, where he went to trade off his furs for ammunition and 
other commodities. When he came back, my brother was not with him! 

   At first my fears were even worse than the reality. The facts were 
these: A Canadian with whom my uncle had traded much had six daughters and 
no son; and when he saw this handsome and intelligent little fellow, he at 
once offered to adopt him. 

   "I have no boy in my family," said he, "and I will deal with him as 
with a son. I am always in these regions trading; so you can see him two 
or three times in a year." 

   He further assured my uncle that the possession of the boy would 
greatly strengthen their friendship. The matter was finally agreed upon. 
At first Chatanna was unwilling, but as we were taught to follow the 
advice of our parents and guardians, he was obliged to yield. 

   This was a severe blow to me, and for a long time I could not be 
consoled. Uncheedah was fully in sympathy with my distress. She argued 
that the white man's education was not desirable for her boys; in fact, 
she urged her son so strongly to go back after Chatanna that he promised 
on 

Page 86

his next visit to the post to bring him home again. 

   But the trader was a shrewd man. He immediately moved to another part 
of the country; and I never saw my Chatanna, the companion of my 
childhood, again! We learned afterward that he grew up and was married; 
but one day he lost his way in a blizzard and was frozen to death. 

   My little cousin and I went to school together in later years; but she 
could not endure the confinement of the school-room. Although apparently 
very happy, she suffered greatly from the change to an indoor life, as 
have many of our people, and died six months after our return to the 
United States.


The Boy Hunter

   IT will be no exaggeration to say that the life of the Indian hunter 
was a life of fascination. From the moment that he lost sight of his rude 
home in the midst of the forest, his untutored mind lost itself in the 
myriad beauties and forces of nature. Yet he never forgot his personal 
danger from some lurking foe or savage beast, however absorbing was his 
passion for the chase. 

Page 87

The Indian youth was a born hunter. Every motion, every step expressed an 
inborn dignity and, at the same time, a depth of native caution. His 
moccasined foot fell like the velvet paw of a cat -- noiselessly; his 
glittering black eyes scanned every object that appeared within their 
view. Not a bird, not even a chipmunk, escaped their piercing glance. 

   I was scarcely over three years old when I stood one morning just 
outside our buffalo-skin teepee, with my little bow and arrows in my hand, 
and gazed up among the trees. Suddenly the instinct to chase and kill 
seized me powerfully. Just then a bird flew over my head and then another 
caught my eye, as it balanced itself upon a swaying bough. Everything else 
was forgotten and in that moment I had taken my first step as a hunter. 

   There was almost as much difference between the Indian boys who were 
brought up on the open prairies and those of the woods, as between city 
and country boys. The hunting of the prairie boys was limited and their 
knowledge of natural history imperfect. They were, as a rule, good riders, 
but in all-round physical development much inferior to the red men of the 
forest. 

   Our hunting varied with the season of the year, 

Page 88

and the nature of the country which was for the time our home. Our chief 
weapon was the bow and arrows, and perhaps, if we were lucky, a knife was 
possessed by some one in the crowd. In the olden times, knives and 
hatchets were made from bone and sharp stones. 

   For fire we used a flint with a spongy piece of dry wood and a stone to 
strike with. Another way of starting fire was for several of the boys to 
sit down in a circle and rub two pieces of dry, spongy wood together, one 
after another, until the wood took fire. 

   We hunted in company a great deal, though it was a common thing for a 
boy to set out for the woods quite alone, and he usually enjoyed himself 
fully as much. Our game consisted mainly of small birds, rabbits, 
squirrels and grouse. Fishing, too, occupied much of our time. We hardly 
ever passed a creek or a pond without searching for some signs of fish. 
When fish were present, we always managed to get some. Fish-lines were 
made of wild hemp, sinew or horse-hair. We either caught fish with lines, 
snared or speared them, or shot them with bow and arrows. In the fall we 
charmed them up to the surface by gently tickling them with a stick and 
quickly threw them out. We have sometimes dammed the brooks and 

Page 89

driven the larger fish into a willow basket made for that purpose. 

   It was part of our hunting to find new and strange things in the woods. 
We examined the slightest sign of life; and if a bird had scratched the 
leaves off the ground, or a bear dragged up a root for his morning meal, 
we stopped to speculate on the time it was done. If we saw a large old 
tree with some scratches on its bark, we concluded that a bear or some 
raccoons must be living there. In that case we did not go any nearer than 
was necessary, but later reported the incident at home. An old deer-track 
would at once bring on a warm discussion as to whether it was the track of 
a buck or a doe. Generally, at noon, we met and compared our game, noting 
at the same time the peculiar characteristics of everything we had killed. 
It was not merely a hunt, for we combined with it the study of animal 
life. We also kept strict account of our game, and thus learned who were 
the best shots among the boys. 

   I am sorry to say that we were merciless toward the birds. We often 
took their eggs and their young ones. My brother Chatanna and I once had a 
disagreeable adventure while bird-hunting. We were accustomed to catch in 
our hands young ducks and geese during the summer, and while doing

Page 90

this we happened to find a crane's nest. Of course, we were delighted with 
our good luck. But, as it was already midsummer, the young cranes -- two 
in number -- were rather large and they were a little way from the nest; 
we also observed that the two old cranes were in a swampy place near by; 
but, as it was moulting-time, we did not suppose that they would venture 
on dry land. So we proceeded to chase the young birds; but they were fleet 
runners and it took us some time to come up with them. 

   Meanwhile, the parent birds had heard the cries of their little ones 
and come to their rescue. They were chasing us, while we followed the 
birds. It was really a perilous encounter! Our strong bows finally gained 
the victory in a hand-to-hand struggle with the angry cranes; but after 
that we hardly ever hunted a crane's nest. Almost all birds make some 
resistance when their eggs or young are taken, but they will seldom attack 
man fearlessly. 

   We used to climb large trees for birds of all kinds; but we never 
undertook to get young owls unless they were on the ground. The hooting 
owl especially is a dangerous bird to attack under these circumstances. I 
was once trying to catch a yellow-winged wood

Page 91

pecker in its nest when my arm became twisted and lodged in the deep hole 
so that I could not get it out without the aid of a knife; but we were a 
long way from home and my only companion was a deaf mute cousin of mine. I 
was about fifty feet up in the tree, in a very uncomfortable position, but 
I had to wait there for more than an hour before he brought me the knife 
with which I finally released myself. 

   Our devices for trapping small animals were rude, but they were often 
successful. For instance, we used to gather up a peck or so of large, 
sharppointed burrs and scatter them in the rabbit's furrow-like path. In 
the morning, we would find the little fellow sitting quietly in his 
tracks, unable to move, for the burrs stuck to his feet. 

   Another way of snaring rabbits and grouse was the following: We made 
nooses of twisted horsehair, which we tied very firmly to the top of a 
limber young tree, then bent the latter down to the track and fastened the 
whole with a slip-knot, after adjusting the noose. When the rabbit runs 
his head through the noose, he pulls the slip-knot and is quickly carried 
up by the spring of the young tree. This is a good plan, for the rabbit is 
out of harm's way as he swings high in the air. 

   Perhaps the most enjoyable of all was the chipmunk 

Page 92

hunt. We killed these animals at any time of year, but the special time to 
hunt them was in March. After the first thaw, the chipmunks burrow a hole 
through the snow crust and make their first appearance for the season. 
Sometimes as many as fifty will come together and hold a social reunion. 
These gatherings occur early in the morning, from daybreak to about nine 
o'clock. 

   We boys learned this, among other secrets of nature, and got our blunt-
headed arrows together in good season for the chipmunk expedition. 

   We generally went in groups of six to a dozen or fifteen, to see which 
would get the most. On the evening before, we selected several boys who 
could imitate the chipmunk's call with wild oatstraws and each of these 
provided himself with a supply of straws. 

   The crust will hold the boys nicely at this time of the year. Bright 
and early, they all come together at the appointed place, from which each 
group starts out in a different direction, agreeing to meet somewhere at a 
given position of the sun. 

   My first experience of this kind is still well remembered.It was a fine 
crisp March morning, and the sun had not yet shown himself among the 
distant tree-tops as we hurried along through the ghostly wood. Presently 
we arrived at a place 

Page 93

where there were many signs of the animals. Then each of us selected a 
tree and took up his position behind it. The chipmunk caller sat upon a 
log as motionless as he could, and began to call. 

   Soon we heard the patter of little feet on the hard snow; then we saw 
the chipmunks approaching from all directions. Some stopped and ran 
experimentally up a tree or a log, as if uncertain of the exact direction 
of the call; others chased one another about. 

   In a few minutes, the chipmunk-caller was besieged with them. Some ran 
all over his person, others under him and still others ran up the tree 
against which he was sitting. Each boy remained immovable until their 
leader gave the signal; then a great shout arose, and the chipmunks in 
their flight all ran up the different trees. 

   Now the shooting-match began. The little creatures seemed to realize 
their hopeless position; they would try again and again to come down the 
trees and flee away from the deadly aim of the youthful hunters. But they 
were shot down very fast; and whenever several of them rushed toward the 
ground, the little red-skin hugged the tree and yelled frantically to 
scare them up again. 

   Each boy shoots always against the trunk of the tree, so that the arrow 
may bound back to him every 

Page 94

time; otherwise, when he had shot away all of them, he would be helpless, 
and another, who had cleared his own tree, would come and take away his 
game, so there was warm competition. Sometimes a desperate chipmunk would 
jump from the top of the tree in order to escape, which was considered a 
joke on the boy who lost it and a triumph for the brave little animal. At 
last all were killed or gone, and then we went on to another place, 
keeping up the sport until the sun came out and the chipmunks refused to 
answer the call. 

   When we went out on the prairies we had a different and less lively 
kind of sport. We used to snare with horse-hair and bow-strings all the 
small ground animals, including the prairie-dog. We both snared and shot 
them. Once a little boy set a snare for one, and lay flat on the ground a 
little way from the hole, holding the end of the string. Presently he felt 
something move and pulled in a huge rattlesnake; and to this day, his name 
is "Caught-the-Rattlesnake." Very often a boy got a new name in some such 
manner. At another time, we were playing in the woods and found a fawn's 
track. We followed and caught it while asleep; but in the struggle to get 
away, it kicked one boy, who is still called "Kicked-by-the-Fawn." 

   It became a necessary part of our education to 

Page 95

learn to prepare a meal while out hunting. It is a fact that most Indians 
will eat the liver and some other portions of large animals raw, but they 
do not eat fish or birds uncooked. Neither will they eat a frog, or an 
eel. On our boyish hunts, we often went on until we found ourselves a long 
way from our camp, when we would kindle a fire and roast a part of our 
game. 

   Generally we broiled our meat over the coals on a stick. We roasted 
some of it over the open fire. But the best way to cook fish and birds is 
in the ashes, under a big fire. We take the fish fresh from the creek or 
lake, have a good fire on the sand, dig in the sandy ashes and bury it 
deep. The same thing is done in case of a bird, only we wet the feathers 
first. When it is done, the scales or feathers and skin are stripped off 
whole, and the delicious meat retains all its juices and flavor. We pulled 
it off as we ate, leaving the bones undisturbed. 

   Our people had also a method of boiling without pots or kettles. A 
large piece of tripe was thoroughly washed and the ends tied, then 
suspended between four stakes driven into the ground and filled with cold 
water. The meat was then placed in this novel receptacle and boiled by 
means of the addition of red-hot stones. 

Page 96

   Chatanna was a good hunter. He called the doe and fawn beautifully by 
using a thin leaf of birchbark between two flattened sticks. One morning 
we found the tracks of a doe and fawn who had passed within the hour, for 
the light dew was brushed from the grass. 

   "What shall we do?" I asked. "Shall we go back to the teepee and tell 
uncle to bring his gun?" 

   "No, no!" exclaimed Chatanna. "Did not our people kill deer and buffalo 
long ago without guns? We will entice her into this open space, and, while 
she stands bewildered, I can throw my lasso line over her head." 

   He had called only a few seconds when the fawn emerged from the thick 
woods and stood before us, prettier than a picture. Then I uttered the 
call, and she threw her tobacco-leaf-like ears toward me, while Chatanna 
threw his lasso. She gave one scream and launched forth into the air, 
almost throwing the boy hunter to the ground. Again and again she flung 
herself desperately into the air, but at last we led her to the nearest 
tree and tied her securely. 

   "Now," said he, "go and get our pets and see what they will do." 

   At that time he had a good-sized black bear 

Page 97

partly tamed, while I had a young red fox and my faithful Ohitika or 
Brave. I untied Chagoo, the bear, and Wanahon, the fox, while Ohitika got 
up and welcomed me by wagging his tail in a dignified way. 

   "Come," I said, "all three of you. I think we have something you would 
all like to see." 

   They seemed to understand me, for Chagoo began to pull his rope with 
both paws, while Wanahon undertook the task of digging up by the roots the 
sapling to which I had tied him. 

   Before we got to the open spot, we already heard Ohitika's joyous bark, 
and the two wild pets began to run, and pulled me along through the 
underbrush. Chagoo soon assumed the utmost precaution and walked as if he 
had splinters in his soles, while Wanahon kept his nose down low and 
sneaked through the trees. 

   Out into the open glade we came, and there, before the three rogues, 
stood the little innocent fawn. She visibly trembled at the sight of the 
motley group. The two human rogues looked to her, I presume, just as bad 
as the other three. Chagoo regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and 
defiance, while Wanahon stood as if rooted to the ground, evidently 
planning how to get at her. But Ohitika (Brave), generous Ohitika, his 
occasional 

Page 98

barking was only in jest. He did not care to touch the helpless thing. 

   Suddenly the fawn sprang high into the air and then dropped her pretty 
head on the ground. 

   "Ohiyesa, the fawn is dead," cried Chatanna. "I wanted to keep her." 

   "It is a shame;" I chimed in. 

   We five guilty ones came and stood around her helpless form. We all 
looked very sorry; even Chagoo's eyes showed repentance and regret. As for 
Ohitika, he gave two great sighs and then betook himself to a respectful 
distance. Chatanna had two big tears gradually swamping his long, black 
eye-lashes; and I thought it was time to hide my face, for I did not want 
him to look at me.



Part IV - Hakadah's First Offering

    "HAKADAH, coowah!" was the sonorous call that came from a large teepee 
in the midst of the Indian encampment. In answer to the summons there 
emerged from the woods, which were only a few steps away, a boy, 
accompanied by a splendid black dog. There was little in the appearance of 
the little fellow to distinguish him from the other Sioux boys. 

   He hastened to the tent from which he had been summoned, carrying in 
his hands a bow and arrows gorgeously painted, while the small birds and 
squirrels that he had killed with these weapons dangled from his belt. 

   Within the tent sat two old women, one on each side of the fire. 
Uncheedah was the boy's grandmother, who had brought up the motherless 
child. Wahchewin was only a caller, but she had been invited to remain and 
assist in the first 

Page 102

personal offering of Hakadah to the "Great Mystery." 

   This was a matter which had, for several days, pretty much monopolized 
Uncheedah's mind. It was her custom to see to this when each of her 
children attained the age of eight summers. They had all been celebrated 
as warriors and hunters among their tribe, and she had not hesitated to 
claim for herself a good share of the honors they had achieved, because 
she had brought them early to the notice of the "Great Mystery." 

   She believed that her influence had helped to regulate and develop the 
characters of her sons to the height of savage nobility and strength of 
manhood. 

   It had been whispered through the teepee village that Uncheedah 
intended to give a feast in honor of her grandchild's first sacrificial 
offering. This was mere speculation, however, for the clearsighted old 
woman had determined to keep this part of the matter secret until the 
offering should be completed, believing that the "Great Mystery" should be 
met in silence and dignity. 

   The boy came rushing into the lodge, followed by his dog Ohitika who 
was wagging his tail promiscuously, as if to say: "Master and I are really 
hunters!" 

Page 103

   Hakadah breathlessly gave a descriptive narrative of the killing of 
each bird and squirrel as he pulled them off his belt and threw them 
before his grandmother. 

   "This blunt-headed arrow," said he, "actually had eyes this morning. 
Before the squirrel can dodge around the tree it strikes him in the head, 
and, as he falls to the ground, my Ohitika is upon him." 

   He knelt upon one knee as he talked, his black eyes shining like 
evening stars. 

   "Sit down here," said Uncheedah to the boy; "I have something to say to 
you. You see that you are now almost a man. Observe the game you have 
brought me! It will not be long before you will leave me, for a warrior 
must seek opportunities to make him great among his people. 

   "You must endeavor to equal your father. and grandfather," she went on. 
"They were warriors and feast-makers. But it is not the poor hunter who 
makes many feasts. Do you not remember the 'Legend of the Feast-Maker,' 
who gave forty feasts in twelve moons? And have you forgotten the story of 
the warrior who sought the will of the Great Mystery? To-day you will make 
your first offering to him." 

   The concluding sentence fairly dilated the eyes 

Page 104

of the young hunter, for he felt that a great event was about to occur, in 
which he would be the principal actor. But Uncheedah resumed her speech. 

   "You must give up one of your belongings -- whichever is dearest to 
you -- for this is to be a sacrificial offering." 

   This somewhat confused the boy; not that he was selfish, but rather 
uncertain as to what would be the most appropriate thing to give. Then, 
too, he supposed that his grandmother referred to his ornaments and 
playthings only. So he volunteered: 

   "I can give up my best bow and arrows, and all the paints I have, 
and -- and my bear's claws necklace, grandmother!" 

   "Are these the things dearest to you?" she demanded. 

   "Not the bow and arrows, but the paints will be very hard to get, for 
there are no white people near; and the necklace -- it is not easy to get 
one like it again. I will also give up my otter-skin head-dress, if you 
think that is not enough." 

   "But think, my boy, you have not yet mentioned the thing that will be a 
pleasant offering to the Great Mystery."

Page 105

   The boy looked into the woman's face with a puzzled expression. 

   "I have nothing else as good as those things I have named, grandmother, 
unless it is my spotted pony; and I am sure that the Great Mystery will 
not require a little boy to make him so large a gift. Besides, my uncle 
gave three otter-skins and five eagle-feathers for him and I promised to 
keep him a long while, if the Blackfeet or the Crows do not steal him." 

   Uncheedah was not fully satisfied with the boy's free offerings. 
Perhaps it had not occurred to him what she really wanted. But Uncheedah 
knew where his affection was vested. His faithful dog, his pet and 
companion -- Hakadah was almost inseparable from the loving beast. 

   She was sure that it would be difficult to obtain his consent to 
sacrifice the animal, but she ventured upon a final appeal. 

   "You must remember," she said, "that in this offering you will call 
upon him who looks at you from every creation. In the wind you hear him 
whisper to you. He gives his war-whoop in the thunder. He watches you by 
day with his eye, the sun; at night, he gazes upon your sleeping 
countenance through the moon. In short, it is the Mystery of Mysteries, 
who controls all things. 

Page 106

to whom you will make your first offering. By this act, you will ask him 
to grant to you what he has granted to few men. I know you wish to be a 
great warrior and hunter. I am not prepared to see my Hakadah show any 
cowardice, for the love of possessions is a woman's trait and not a 
brave's." 

   During this speech, the boy had been completely aroused to the spirit 
of manliness, and in his excitement was willing to give up anything he 
had -- even his pony! But he was unmindful of his friend and companion, 
Ohitika, the dog! So, scarcely had Uncheedah finished speaking, when he 
almost shouted: 

   "Grandmother, I will give up any of my possessions for the offering to 
the Great Mystery! You may select what you think will be most pleasing to 
him." 

   There were two silent spectators of this little dialogue. One was 
Wahchewin; the other was Ohitika. The woman had been invited to stay, 
although only a neighbor. The dog, by force of habit, had taken up his 
usual position by the side of his master when they entered the teepee. 
Without moving a muscle, save those of his eyes, he had been a very close 
observer of what passed. 

   Had the dog but moved once to attract the attention of his little 
friend, he might have been 

Page 107

dissuaded from that impetuous exclamation: "Grandmother, I will give up 
any of my possessions!" 

   It was hard for Uncheedah to tell the boy that he must part with his 
dog, but she was equal to the situation. 

   "Hakadah," she proceeded cautiously, "you are a young brave. I know, 
though young, your heart is strong and your courage is great. You will be 
pleased to give up the dearest thing you have for your first offering. You 
must give up Ohitika. He is brave; and you, too, are brave. He will not 
fear death; you will bear his loss bravely. Come -- here are four bundles 
of paints and a filled pipe -- let us go to the place." 

   When the last words were uttered, Hakadah did not seem to hear them. He 
was simply unable to speak. To a civilized eye, he would have appeared at 
that moment like a little copper statue. His bright black eyes were fast 
melting in floods of tears, when he caught his grandmother's eye and 
recollected her oft-repeated adage: "Tears for woman and the war-whoop for 
man to drown sorrow!" 

   He swallowed two or three big mouthfuls of heart-ache and the little 
warrior was master of the situation. 

Page 108

   "Grandmother, my Brave will have to die! Let me tie together two of the 
prettiest tails of the squirrels that he and I killed this morning, to 
show to the Great Mystery what a hunter he has been. Let me paint him 
myself." 

   This request Uncheedah could not refuse and she left the pair alone for 
a few minutes, while she went to ask Wacoota to execute Ohitika. 

   Every Indian boy knows that, when a warrior is about to meet death, he 
must sing a death dirge. Hakadah thought of his Ohitika as a person who 
would meet his death without a struggle, so he began to sing a dirge for 
him, at the same time hugging him tight to himself. As if he were a human 
being, he whispered in his ear: 

   "Be brave, my Ohitika! I shall remember you the first time I am upon 
the war-path in the Ojibway country." 

   At last he heard Uncheedah talking with a man outside the teepee, so he 
quickly took up his paints. Ohitika was a jet-black dog, with a silver tip 
on the end of his tail and on his nose, beside one white paw and a white 
star upon a protuberance between his ears. Hakadah knew that a man who 
prepares for death usually paints with red and black. Nature had partially 
provided Ohitika in 

Page 109

this respect, so that only red was required and this Hakadah supplied 
generously. 

   Then he took off a piece of red cloth and tied it around the dog's 
neck; to this he fastened two of the squirrels' tails and a wing from the 
oriole they had killed that morning. 

   Just then it occurred to him that good warriors always mourn for their 
departed friends and the usual mourning was black paint. He loosened his 
black braided locks, ground a dead coal, mixed it with bear's oil and 
rubbed it on his entire face. 

   During this time every hole in the tent was occupied with an eye. Among 
the lookers-on was his grandmother. She was very near relenting. Had she 
not feared the wrath of the Great Mystery, she would have been happy to 
call out to the boy: "Keep your dear dog, my child!" 

   As it was, Hakadah came out of the teepee with his face looking like an 
eclipsed moon, leading his beautiful dog, who was even handsomer than ever 
with the red touches on his specks of white. 

   It was now Uncheedah's turn to struggle with the storm and burden in 
her soul. But the boy was emboldened by the people's admiration of his 
bravery, and did not shed a tear. As soon as she was able to speak, the 
loving grandmother said: 

   "No, my young brave, not so! You must not 

Page 110

mourn for your first offering. Wash your face and then we will go." 

   The boy obeyed, submitted Ohitika to Wacoota with a smile, and walked 
off with his grandmother and Wahchewin. 

   They followed a well-beaten foot-path leading along the bank of the 
Assiniboine river, through a beautiful grove of oak, and finally around 
and under a very high cliff. The murmuring of the river came up from just 
below. On the opposite side was a perpendicular white cliff, from which 
extended back a gradual slope of land, clothed with the majestic mountain 
oak. The scene was impressive and wild. 

   Wahchewin had paused without a word when the little party reached the 
edge of the cliff. It had been arranged between her and Uncheedah that she 
should wait there for Wacoota, who was to bring as far as that the portion 
of the offering with which he had been entrusted. 

   The boy and his grandmother descended the bank, following a tortuous 
foot-path until they reached the water's edge. Then they proceeded to the 
mouth of an immense cave, some fifty feet above the river, under the 
cliff. A little stream of limpid water trickled down from a spring within 
the cave. The little watercourse served as a 

Page 111

sort of natural staircase for the visitors. A cool, pleasant atmosphere 
exhaled from the mouth of the cavern. Really it was a shrine of nature and 
it is not strange that it was so regarded by the tribe. 

   A feeling of awe and reverence came to the boy. "It is the home of the 
Great Mystery," he thought to himself; and the impressiveness of his 
surroundings made him forget his sorrow. 

   Very soon Wahchewin came with some difficulty to the steps. She placed 
the body of Ohitika upon the ground in a life-like position and again left 
the two alone. 

   As soon as she disappeared from view, Uncheedah, with all solemnity and 
reverence, unfastened the leather strings that held the four small bundles 
of paints and one of tobacco, while the filled pipe was laid beside the 
dead Ohitika. 

   She scattered paints and tobacco all about. Again they stood a few 
moments silently; then she drew a deep breath and began her prayer to the 
Great Mystery: 

   "0, Great Mystery, we hear thy voice in the rushing waters below us! We 
hear thy whisper in the great oaks above! Our spirits are refreshed with 
thy breath from within this cave. 0, hear our prayer! Behold this little 
boy and bless him! 

Page 112

Make him a warrior and a hunter as great as thou didst make his father and 
grandfather." 

   And with this prayer the little warrior had completed his first 
offering.



Part V - Family Traditions

A Visit to Smoky Day

   SMOKY DAY was widely known among us as a preserver of history and 
legend. He was a living book of the traditions and history of his people. 
Among his effects were bundles of small sticks, notched and painted. One 
bundle contained the number of his own years. Another was composed of 
sticks representing the important events of his-tory, each of which was 
marked with the number of years since that particular event occurred. For 
instance, there was the year when so many stars fell from the sky, with 
the number of years since it happened cut into the wood. Another recorded 
the appearance of a comet; and from these heavenly wonders the great 
national catastrophes and victories were reckoned. 

   But I will try to repeat some of his favorite narratives as I heard 
them from his own lips. I went to him one day with a piece of tobacco and 

Page 116

an eagle-feather; not to buy his MSS., but hoping for the privilege of 
hearing him tell of some of the brave deeds of our people in remote times. 

   The tall and large old man greeted me with his usual courtesy and 
thanked me for my present. As I recall the meeting, I well remember his un-
usual stature, his slow speech and gracious man-ner. 

   "Ah, Ohiyesa!" said he, "my young warrior -- for such you will be some 
day! I know this by your seeking to hear of the great deeds of your 
ancestors. That is a good sign, and I love to re-peat these stories to one 
who is destined to be a brave man. I do not wish to lull you to sleep with 
sweet words; but I know the conduct of your pa-ternal ancestors. They have 
been and are still among the bravest of our tribe. To prove this, I will 
relate what happened in your paternal grand-father's family, twenty years 
ago. 

   "Two of his brothers were murdered by a jeal-ous young man of their own 
band. The deed was committed without just cause; therefore all the braves 
were agreed to punish the murderer with death. When your grandfather was 
ap-proached with this suggestion, he replied that he and the remaining 
brothers could not condescend 

Page 117

to spill the blood of such a wretch, but that the others might do whatever 
they thought just with the young man. These men were foremost among the 
warriors of the Sioux, and no one questioned their courage; yet when this 
calamity was brought upon them by a villain, they refused to touch him! 
This, my boy, is a test of true bravery. Self-pos-session and self-control 
at such a moment is proof of a strong heart. 

   "You have heard of Jingling Thunder the elder, whose brave deeds are 
well known to the Villagers of the Lakes. He sought honor 'in the gates of 
the enemy,' as we often say. The Great Mystery was especially kind to him, 
because he was obedient. 

   "Many winters ago there was a great battle, in which Jingling Thunder 
won his first honors. It was forty winters before the falling of many 
stars, which event occurred twenty winters after the coming of the black-
robed white priest; and that was fourteen winters before the annihilation 
by our people of thirty lodges of the Sac and Fox Indians. I well remember 
the latter event -- it was just fifty winters ago. However, I will count 
my sticks again." 

   So saying, Smoky Day produced his bundle of variously colored sticks, 
about five inches long. 

Page 118

He counted and gave them to me to verify his calculation. 

   "But you," he resumed, "do not care to re-member the winters that have 
passed. You are young, and care only for the event and the deed. It was 
very many years ago that this thing happened that I am about to tell you, 
and yet our people speak of it with as much enthusiasm as if it were only 
yesterday. Our heroes are always kept alive in the minds of the nation. 

   "Our people lived then on the east bank of the Mississippi, a little 
south of where Imnejah-skah, or White Cliff (St. Paul, Minnesota), now 
stands. After they left Mille Lacs they founded several villages, but 
finally settled in this spot, whence the tribes have gradually dispersed. 
Here a battle occurred which surpassed all others in history. It lasted 
one whole day -- the Sacs and Foxes and the Dakotas against the Ojib-ways. 

   "An invitation in the usual form of a filled pipe was brought to the 
Sioux by a brave of the Sac and Fox tribe, to make a general attack upon 
their common enemy. The Dakota braves quickly signified their willingness 
in the same manner, and it having been agreed to meet upon the St. Croix 

Page 119

river, preparations were immediately begun to despatch a large war-party. 

   "Among our people there were many tried war-riors whose names were 
known, and every youth of a suitable age was desirous of emulating them. 
As these young novices issued from every camp and almost every teepee, 
their mothers, sisters, grand-fathers and grandmothers were singing for 
them the 'strong-heart' songs. An old woman, liv-ing with her only 
grandchild, the remnant of a once large band who had all been killed at 
three different times by different parties of the Ojibways, was 
conspicuous among the sing-ers. 

   "Everyone who heard, cast toward her a sym-pathetic glance, for it was 
well known that she and her grandson constituted the remnant of a band of 
Sioux, and that her song indicated that her pre-cious child had attained 
the age of a warrior, and was now about to join the war-party, and to seek 
a just revenge for the annihilation of his family. This was Jingling 
Thunder, also familiarly known as 'The Little Last.' He was seen to carry 
with him some family relics in the shape of war-clubs and lances. 

   "The aged woman's song was something like this:

Page 120

"Go, my brave Jingling Thunder! 
Forever keep thine eyes 
Upon the silvery path 
Across the evening skies. 
Behold that glittering track -- 
Behold the road to glory!(*) 

"And yet, my child, remember 
The author of your band! 
How pitiful to live 
So helpless and alone -- 
Survivor of the young! 
No, no! return again 
'Stablish our name and kin!"

(* The Milky Way -- believed by the Dakotas to be the road travelled by 
the spirits of departed braves.)

   "The Sacs and Foxes were very daring and confident upon this occasion. 
They proposed to the Sioux that they should engage alone with the enemy at 
first, and let us see how their braves can fight! To this our people 
assented, and they as-sembled upon the hills to watch the struggle be-
tween their allies and the Ojibways. It seemed to be an equal fight, and 
for a time no one could tell how the contest would end. Young Jingling 
Thunder was an impatient spectator, and it was 

Page 121

hard to keep him from rushing forward to meet his foes. 

   "At last a great shout went up, and the Sacs and Foxes were seen to be 
retreating with heavy loss. Then the Sioux took the field, and were fast 
winning the day, when fresh reinforcements came from the north for the 
Ojibways. Up to this time Jingling Thunder had been among the foremost in 
the battle, and had engaged in several close en-counters. But this fresh 
attack of the Ojibways was unexpected, and the Sioux were somewhat tired. 
Besides, they had told the Sacs and Foxes to sit upon the hills and rest 
their weary limbs and take lessons from their friends the Sioux; therefore 
no aid was looked for from any quarter. 

   "A great Ojibway chief made a fierce onslaught on the Dakotas. This man 
Jingling Thunder now rushed forward to meet. The Ojibway boastfully 
shouted to his warriors that he had met a tender fawn and would reserve to 
himself the honor of destroying it. Jingling Thunder, on his side, 
exclaimed that he had met the aged bear of whom he had heard so much, but 
that he would need no assistance to overcome him. 

   "The powerful man flashed his tomahawk in the air over the youthful 
warrior's head, but the brave sprang aside as quick as lightning, 

Page 122

and in the same instant speared his enemy to the heart. As the Ojibway 
chief gave a gasping yell and fell in death, his people lost courage; 
while the success of the brave Jingling Thunder strengthened the hearts of 
the Sioux, for they im-mediately followed up their advantage and drove the 
enemy out of their territory. 

   "This was the beginning of Jingling Thunder's career as a warrior. He 
afterwards performed even greater acts of valor. He became the ancestor of 
a famous band of the Sioux, of whom your own father, Ohiyesa, was a 
member. You have doubt-less heard his name in connection with many great 
events. Yet he was a patient man, and was never known to quarrel with one 
of his own nation." 

   That night I lay awake a long time commit-ting to memory the tradition 
I had heard, and the next day I boasted to my playmate, Little Rain-bow, 
about my first lesson from the old story-teller. To this he replied: 

   "I would rather have Weyuhah for my teacher. I think he remembers more 
than any of the others. When Weyuhah tells about a battle you can see it 
yourself; you can even hear the war-whoop," he went on with much 
enthusiasm. 

   "That is what his friends say of him; but those who are not his friends 
say that he brings many 

Page 123

warriors into the battle who were not there," I an-swered indignantly, for 
I could not admit that old Smoky Day could have a rival. 

   Before I went to him again Uncheedah had thoughtfully prepared a nice 
venison roast for the teacher, and I was proud to take him some-thing good 
to eat before beginning his story. 

   "How," was his greeting, "so you have begun already, Ohiyesa? Your 
family were ever feast-makers as well as warriors." 

   Having done justice to the tender meat, he wiped his knife by sticking 
it into the ground several times, and put it away in its sheath, after 
which he cheerfully recommenced: 

   "It came to pass not many winters ago that Wakinyan-tonka, the great 
medicine man, had a vision; whereupon a war-party set out for the Ojibway 
country. There were three brothers of your family among them, all of whom 
were noted for valor and the chase. 

   "Seven battles were fought in succession before they turned to come 
back. They had secured a number of the enemy's birch canoes, and the whole 
party came floating down the Mississippi, joyous and happy because of 
their success. 

   "But one night the war-chief announced that there was misfortune at 
hand. The next day no 

Page 124

one was willing to lead the fleet. The youngest of the three brothers 
finally declared that he did not fear death, for it comes when least 
expected and he volunteered to take the lead. 

   "It happened that this young man had left a pretty maiden behind him, 
whose choice needle-work adorned his quiver. He was very hand-some as well 
as brave. 

   "At daybreak the canoes were again launched upon the bosom of the great 
river. All was quiet -- a few birds beginning to sing. Just as the sun 
peeped through the eastern tree-tops a great war-cry came forth from the 
near shores, and there was a rain of arrows. The birchen canoes were 
pierced, and in the excitement many were cap-sized. 

   "The Sioux were at a disadvantage. There was no shelter. Their bow-
strings and the feathers on their arrows were wet. The bold Ojibways saw 
their advantage and pressed closer and closer; but our men fought 
desperately, half in and half out of the water, until the enemy was forced 
at last to retreat. Nevertheless that was a sad day for the Wahpeton 
Sioux; but saddest of all was Winona's fate! 

   "Morning Star, her lover, who led the canoe fleet that morning, was 
among the slain. For two 

Page 125

days the Sioux braves searched in the water for their dead, but his body 
was not recovered. 

   "At home, meanwhile, the people had been alarmed by ill omens. Winona, 
eldest daughter of the great chief, one day entered her birch canoe alone 
and paddled up the Mississippi, gazing now into the,water around her, now 
into the blue sky above. She thought she heard some young men giving 
courtship calls in the distance, just as they do at night when approaching 
the teepee of the beloved; and she knew the voice of Morning Star well! 
Surely she could distinguish his call among the others! Therefore she 
listened yet more intently, and looked skyward as her light canoe glided 
gently up stream. 

   "Ah, poor Winona! She saw only six sand-hill cranes, looking no larger 
than mosquitoes, as they flew in circles high up in the sky, going east 
where all spirits go. Something said to her: 'Those are the spirits of 
some of the Sioux braves, and Morning Star is among them!' Her eye 
followed the birds as they traveled in a chain of circles. 

   "Suddenly she glanced downward. 'What is this?' she screamed in 
despair. It was Morn-ing Star's body, floating down the river; his quiver, 
worked by her own hands and now 

Page 126

dyed with his blood, lay upon the surface of the water. 

   "'Ah, Great Mystery! why do you punish a poor girl so? Let me go with 
the spirit of Morn-ing Star!' 

   "It was evening. The pale moon arose in the east and the stars were 
bright. At this very hour the news of the disaster was brought home by a 
returning scout, and the village was plunged in grief, but Winona's spirit 
had flown away. No one ever saw her again. 

   "This is enough for to-day, my boy. You may come again to-morrow."


The Stone Boy

    "Ho, mita koda!" (welcome, friend!) was Smoky Day's greeting, as I 
entered his lodge on the third day. "I hope you did not dream of a watery 
combat with the Ojibways, after the history I repeated to you yesterday," 
the old sage continued, with a complaisant smile playing upon his face. 

   "No," I said, meekly, "but, on the other hand, I have wished that the 
sun might travel a little faster, so that I could come for another story." 

   "Well, this time I will tell you one of the kind 

Page 127

we call myths or fairy stories. They are about men and women who do 
wonderful things -- things that ordinary people cannot do at all. 
Sometimes they are not exactly human beings, for they partake of the 
nature of men and beasts, or of men and gods. I tell you this beforehand, 
so that you may not ask any questions, or be puzzled by the inconsistency 
of the actors in these old stories. 

   "Once there were ten brothers who lived with their only sister, a young 
maiden of sixteen summers. She was very skilful at her embroidery, and her 
brothers all had beautifully worked quivers and bows embossed with 
porcupine quills. They loved and were kind to her, and the maiden in her 
turn loved her brothers dearly, and was content with her position as their 
housekeeper. They were great hunters, and scarcely ever remained at home 
during the day, but when they returned at evening they would relate to her 
all their adventures. 

   "One night they came home one by one with their game, as usual, all but 
the eldest, who did not return. It was supposed by the other brothers that 
he had pursued a deer too far from the lodge, or perhaps shot more game 
than he could well carry; but the sister had a presentiment that something 
dreadful had befallen him. She was partially consoled 

Page 128

by the second brother, who offered to find the lost one in the morning. 

   "Accordingly, he went in search of him, while the rest set out on the 
hunt as usual. Toward evening all had returned safely, save the brother 
who went in search of the absent. Again, the next older brother went to 
look for the others, and he too returned no more. All the young men 
disappeared one by one in this manner, leaving their sister alone. 

   "The maiden's sorrow was very great. She wandered everywhere, weeping 
and looking for her brothers, but found no trace of them. One day she was 
walking beside a beautiful little stream, whose clear waters went laughing 
and singing on their way. She could see the gleaming pebbles at the 
bottom, and one in particular seemed so lovely to her tear-bedimmed eyes, 
that she stooped and picked it up, dropping it within her skin garment 
into her bosom. For the first time since her misfortunes she had forgotten 
herself and her sorrow. 

   "At last she went home, much happier than she had been, though she 
could not have told the reason why. On the following day she sought again 
the place where she had found the pebble, and this time she fell asleep on 
the banks of the stream, 

Page 129

When she awoke, there lay a beautiful babe in her bosom. 

   "She took it up and kissed it many times. And the child was a boy, but 
it was heavy like a stone, so she called him a 'Little Stone Boy.' The 
maiden cried no more, for she was very happy with her baby. The child was 
unusually knowing, and walked almost from its birth. 

   "One day Stone Boy discovered the bow and arrows of one of his uncles, 
and desired to have them; but his mother cried, and said: 

   "'Wait, my son, until you are a young man.' "She made him some little 
ones, and with these he soon learned to hunt, and killed small game enough 
to support them both. When he had grown to be a big boy, he insisted upon 
knowing whose were the ten bows that still hung upon the walls of his 
mother's lodge. 

   "At last she was obliged to tell him the sad story of her loss. 

   "'Mother, I shall go in search of my uncles,' exclaimed the Stone Boy. 

   "'But you will be lost like them,' she replied, 'and then I shall die 
of grief.' 

   "'No, I shall not be lost. I shall bring your ten brothers back to you. 
Look, I will give you a sign. I will take a pillow, and place it upon end. 

Page 130

Watch this, for as long as I am living the pillow will stay as I put it. 
Mother, give me some food and some moccasins with which to travel!' 

   "Taking the bow of one of his uncles, with its quiver full of arrows, 
the Stone Boy departed. As he journeyed through the forest he spoke to 
every animal he met, asking for news of his lost uncles. Sometimes he 
called to them at the top of his voice. Once he thought he heard an 
answer, so he walked in the direction of the sound. But it was only a 
great grizzly bear who had wantonly mimicked the boy's call. Then Stone 
Boy was greatly provoked. 

   "'Was it you who answered my call, you longface?' he exclaimed. 

   "Upon this the latter growled and said: 

   "'You had better be careful how you address me, or you may be sorry for 
what you say!' 

   "'Who cares for you, you red-eyes, you ugly thing!' the boy replied; 
whereupon the grizzly immediately set upon him. 

   "But the boy's flesh became as hard as stone, and the bear's great 
teeth and claws made no impression upon it. Then he was so dreadfully 
heavy; and he kept laughing all the time as if he were being tickled, 
which greatly aggravated the 

Page 131

bear. Finally Stone Boy pushed him aside and sent an arrow to his heart. 

   "He walked on for some distance until he came to a huge fallen pine 
tree, which had evidently been killed by lightning. The ground near by 
bore marks of a struggle, and Stone Boy picked up several arrows exactly 
like those of his uncles, which he himself carried. 

   "While he was examining these things, he heard a sound like that of a 
whirlwind, far up in the heavens. He looked up and saw a black speck which 
grew rapidly larger until it became a dense cloud. Out of it came a flash 
and then a thunderbolt. The boy was obliged to wink; and when he opened 
his eyes, behold! a stately man stood before him and challenged him to 
single combat. 

   "Stone Boy accepted the challenge and they grappled with one another. 
The man from the clouds was gigantic in stature and very powerful. But 
Stone Boy was both strong and unnaturally heavy and hard to hold. The 
great warrior from the sky sweated from his exertions, and there came a 
heavy shower. Again and again the lightnings flashed about them as the two 
struggled there. At last Stone Boy threw his opponent, who lay motionless. 
There was a murmuring 

Page 132

sound throughout the heavens and the clouds rolled swiftly away. 

   "'Now,' thought the hero, 'this man must have slain all my uncles. I 
shall go to his home and find out what has become of them.' With this he 
unfastened from the dead man's scalp-lock a beautiful bit of scarlet down. 
He breathed gently upon it, and as it floated upward he followed into the 
blue heavens. 

   "Away went Stone Boy to the country of the Thunder Birds. It was a 
beautiful land, with lakes, rivers, plains and mountains. The young 
adventurer found himself looking down from the top of a high mountain, and 
the country appeared to be very populous, for he saw lodges all about him 
as far as the eye could reach. He particularly noticed a majestic tree 
which towered above all the others, and in its bushy top bore an enormous 
nest. Stone Boy descended from the mountain and soon arrived at the foot 
of the tree; but there were no limbs except those at the top and it was so 
tall that he did not attempt to climb it. He simply took out his bit of 
down, breathed upon it and floated gently upward. 

   "When he was able to look into the nest he saw there innumerable eggs 
of various sizes, and all of a remarkable red color. He was nothing but a 

Page 133

boy after all, and had all a boy's curiosity and recklessness. As he was 
handling the eggs carelessly, his notice was attracted to a sudden 
confusion in the little village below. All of the people seemed to be 
running toward the tree. He mischievously threw an egg at them, and in the 
instant that it broke he saw one of the men drop dead. Then all began to 
cry out pitifully, 'Give me my heart!' 

   "'Ah,' exclaimed Stone Boy, exulting,' so these are the hearts of the 
people who destroyed my uncles! I shall break them all!' 

   "And he really did break all of the eggs but four small ones which he 
took in his hand. Then he descended the tree, and wandered among the 
silent and deserted lodges in search of some trace of his lost uncles. He 
found four little boys, the sole survivors of their race, and these he 
commanded to tell him where their bones were laid. 

   "They showed him the spot where a heap of bones was bleaching on the 
ground. Then he bade one of the boys bring wood, a second water, a third 
stones, and the fourth he sent to cut willow wands for the sweat lodge. 
They obeyed, and Stone Boy built the lodge, made a fire, heated the stones 
and collected within the lodge all the bones of his ten uncles. 

   "As he poured the water upon the hot stones 

Page 134

faint sounds could be heard from within the magic bath. These changed to 
the murmuring of voices, and finally to the singing of medicine songs. 
Stone Boy opened the door and his ten uncles came forth in the flesh, 
thanking him and blessing him for restoring them to life. Only the little 
finger of the youngest uncle was missing. Stone Boy now heartlessly broke 
the four remaining eggs, and took the little finger of the largest boy to 
supply the missing bone. 

   "They all returned to earth again and Stone Boy conducted his uncles to 
his mother's lodge. She had never slept during his entire absence, but 
watched incessantly the pillow upon which her boy was wont to rest his 
head, and by which she was to know of his safety. Going a little in 
advance of the others, he suddenly rushed forward into her teepee, 
exclaiming: 'Mother, your ten brothers are coming -- prepare a feast!' 

   "For some time after this they all lived happily together. Stone Boy 
occupied himself with solitary hunting. He was particularly fond of 
hunting the fiercer wild animals. He killed them wantonly and brought home 
only the ears, teeth and claws as his spoil, and with these he played as 
he laughingly recounted his exploits. His mother and uncles protested, and 
begged him at least to spare 

Page 135

the lives of those animals held sacred by the Dakotas, but Stone Boy 
relied upon his supernatural powers to protect him from harm. 

   "One evening, however, he was noticeably silent and upon being pressed 
to give the reason, replied as follows: 

   "'For some days past I have heard the animals talking of a conspiracy 
against us. I was going west the other morning when I heard a crier 
announcing a general war upon Stone Boy and his people. The crier was a 
Buffalo, going at full speed from west to east. Again, I heard the Beaver 
conversing with the Musk-rat, and both said that their services were 
already promised to overflow the lakes and rivers and cause a destructive 
flood. I heard, also, the little Swallow holding a secret council with all 
the birds of the air. He said that he had been appointed a messenger to 
the Thunder Birds, and that at a certain signal the doors of the sky would 
be opened and rains descend to drown Stone Boy. Old Badger and the Grizzly 
Bear are appointed to burrow underneath our fortifications. 

   "'However, I am not at all afraid for myself, but I am anxious for you, 
Mother, and for my uncles.' 

   "'Ugh!' grunted all the uncles, 'we told you 

Page 136

that you would get into trouble by killing so many of our sacred animals 
for your own amusement. 

   "'But,' continued Stone Boy, 'I shall make a good resistance, and I 
expect you all to help me.' 

   "Accordingly they all worked under his direction in preparing for the 
defence. First of all, he threw a pebble into the air, and behold a great 
rocky wall around their teepee. A second, third, fourth and fifth pebble 
became other walls without the first. From the sixth and seventh were 
formed two stone lodges, one upon the other. The uncles. meantime, made 
numbers of bows and quivers full of arrows, which were ranged at 
convenient distances along the tops of the walls. His mother prepared 
great quantities of food and made many moccasins for her boy, who declared 
that he would defend the fortress alone. 

   "At last they saw the army of beasts advancing, each tribe by itself 
and commanded by a leader of extraordinary size. The onset was terrific. 
They flung themselves against the high walls with savage cries, while the 
badgers and other burrowing animals ceaselessly worked to undermine them. 
Stone Boy aimed his sharp arrows with such deadly effect that his enemies 
fell by thousands. So great was their loss that the dead bodies of the 

Page 137

animals formed a barrier higher than the first, and the armies retired in 
confusion. 

   "But reinforcements were at hand. The rain fell in torrents; the 
beavers had dammed all the rivers and there was a great flood. The 
besieged all retreated into the innermost lodge, but the water poured in 
through the burrows made by the badgers and gophers, and rose until Stone 
Boy's mother and his ten uncles were all drowned. Stone Boy himself could 
not be entirely destroyed, but he was overcome by his enemies and left 
half buried in the earth, condemned never to walk again, and there we find 
him to this day. 

   "This was because he abused his strength, and destroyed for mere 
amusement the lives of the creatures given him for use only."