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diff --git a/old/67133-0.txt b/old/67133-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5054b02..0000000 --- a/old/67133-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5312 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Waheenee--An Indian Girl's Story, by -Waheenee - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Waheenee--An Indian Girl's Story - -Authors: Waheenee - Gilbert Livingstone Wilson - -Illustrator: Frederick N. Wilson - -Release Date: January 9, 2022 [eBook #67133] - -Language: English - -Produced by: MFR, Robert Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from - images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAHEENEE--AN INDIAN GIRL'S -STORY *** - - - -[Illustration: WAHEENEE AND HER HUSBAND, SON-OF-A-STAR] - - - - - WAHEENEE - AN INDIAN GIRL’S STORY - - TOLD BY HERSELF - ——TO—— - GILBERT L. WILSON, Ph.D. - - Field collector for the American Museum of Natural - History of New York City. Professor of Anthropology, - Macalester College. - - Author of “Myths of the Red Children,” “Goodbird, - the Indian,” “The Agriculture of the Hidatsa Indians,” - “Indian Hero Tales.” - - ILLUSTRATED - BY - FREDERICK N. WILSON - - WEBB PUBLISHING COMPANY - ST. PAUL, MINNESOTA - 1921 - - - COPYRIGHT, 1921 - BY - WEBB PUBLISHING CO. - W¹ - - - - - FOREWORD - - -The Hidatsas, called Minitaris by the Mandans, are a Siouan tribe and -speak a language closely akin to that of the Crows. Wars with the -Dakota Sioux forced them to ally themselves with the Mandans, whose -culture they adopted. Lewis and Clark found the two tribes living in -five villages at the mouth of the Knife river, in 1804. - -In 1832 the artist Catlin visited the Five Villages, as they were -called. A year later Maximilian of Wiet visited them with the artist -Bodmer. Several score canvasses, the work of the two artists, are -preserved to us. - -Smallpox nearly exterminated the two tribes in 1837-8. The survivors, -a mere remnant, removed to Fort Berthold reservation where they still -dwell. - -In 1908, with my brother, an artist, I was sent by Dr. Clark Wissler, -Curator of Anthropology, American Museum of Natural History, to begin -cultural studies among the Hidatsas. This work, continued through -successive summers for ten years, is but now drawing to a close. - -During these years my faithful interpreter and helper has been Edward -Goodbird, grandson of Small Ankle, a chief of the Hidatsas in the -trying years following the terrible smallpox winter; and my principal -informants have been Goodbird’s mother, _Waheenee-wea_, or -Buffalo-Bird Woman, and her brother, Wolf Chief. - -The stories in this book were told me by Buffalo-Bird Woman. A few told -in mere outline, have been completed from information given by Wolf -Chief and others. - -Illustrations are by my brother, from studies made by him on the -reservation. They have been carefully compared with the Catlin and -Bodmer sketches. Not a few are redrawn from cruder sketches by -Goodbird, himself an artist of no mean ability. - -Acknowledgment is made of the courtesy of Curator Wissler, whose -permission makes possible the publishing of this book. - -Indians have the gentle custom of adopting very dear friends by -relationship terms. By such adoption Buffalo-Bird Woman is my mother. -It is with real pleasure that I offer to young readers these stories -from the life of my Indian mother. - - G. L. W. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - Chapter Page - - I A Little Indian Girl 7 - - II Winter Camp 15 - - III The Buffalo-skin Cap 21 - - IV Story Telling 29 - - V Life in an Earth Lodge 44 - - VI Childhood Games 54 - - VII Kinship, Clan Cousins 66 - - VIII Indian Dogs 73 - - IX Training a Dog 81 - - X Learning to Work 90 - - XI Picking June Berries 99 - - XII The Corn Husking 109 - - XIII Marriage 117 - - XIV A Buffalo Hunt 127 - - XV The Hunting Camp 138 - - XVI Homeward Bound 149 - - XVII An Indian Papoose 156 - - XVIII The Voyage Home 165 - - Glossary of Indian Words 177 - - Explanatory Notes 178 - - SUPPLEMENT:— - - How to Make an Indian Camp 183 - - Hints to Young Campers 187 - - Indian Cooking 188 - - Editor’s Note 189 - - - - -[Illustration] - - WAHEENEE - - FIRST CHAPTER - - A LITTLE INDIAN GIRL - - -I was born in an earth lodge by the mouth of the Knife river, in what -is now North Dakota, three years after the smallpox winter. - -The Mandans and my tribe, the Hidatsas, had come years before from the -Heart river; and they had built the Five Villages, as we called them, -on the banks of the Knife, near the place where it enters the Missouri. - -Here were bottom lands for our cornfields and cottonwood trees for the -beams and posts of our lodges. The dead wood that floated down either -river would help keep us in firewood, the old women thought. Getting -fuel in a prairie country was not always easy work. - -When I was ten days old my mother made a feast and asked an old man -named Nothing-but-Water to give me a name. He called me Good Way. “For -I pray the gods,” he said, “that our little girl may go through life -by a _good way_; that she may grow up a good woman, not quarreling nor -stealing; and that she may have good luck all her days.” - -[Illustration] - -I was a rather sickly child and my father wished after a time to give -me a new name. We Indians thought that sickness was from the gods. -A child’s name was given him as a kind of prayer. A new name, our -medicine men thought, often moved the gods to help a sick or weakly -child. - -So my father gave me another name, _Waheenee-wea_,[1] or Buffalo-Bird -Woman. In our Hidatsa language, _waheenee_, means cowbird, or -buffalo-bird, as this little brown bird is known in the buffalo -country; _wea_, meaning girl or woman, is often added to a girl’s name -that none mistake it for the name of a boy. I do not know why my father -chose this name. His gods, I know, were birds; and these, we thought, -had much holy power. Perhaps the buffalo-birds had spoken to him in a -dream. - - [1] Wä hēē´ nēē wē´ a - -I am still called by the name my father gave me; and, as I have lived -to be a very old woman, I think it has brought me good luck from the -gods. - -My mother’s name was _Weahtee_.[2] She was one of four sisters, wives -of my father; her sisters’ names were Red Blossom, Stalk-of-Corn, and -Strikes-Many Woman. I was taught to call all these my mothers. Such was -our Indian custom. I do not think my mother’s sisters could have been -kinder to me if I had been an own daughter. - - [2] Wē´ äh tēē - -I remember nothing of our life at the Five Villages; but my -great-grandmother, White Corn, told me something of it. I used to creep -into her bed when the nights were cold and beg for stories. - -“The Mandans lived in two of the villages, the Hidatsas in three,” she -said. “Around each village, excepting on the side that fronted the -river, ran a fence of posts, with spaces between for shooting arrows. -In front of the row of posts was a deep ditch. - -“We had corn aplenty and buffalo meat to eat in the Five Villages, and -there were old people and little children in every lodge. Then smallpox -came. More than half of my tribe died in the smallpox winter. Of the -Mandans only a few families were left alive. All the old people and -little children died.” - -I was sad when I heard this story. “Did any of your family die, -grandmother?” I asked. - -“Yes, my husband, Yellow Elk, died. So many were the dead that there -was no time to put up burial scaffolds; so his clan fathers bore Yellow -Elk to the burying ground and laid him on the grass with logs over him -to keep off the wolves. - -[Illustration] - -“That night the villagers heard a voice calling to them from the -burying ground. ‘_A-ha-hey!_[3] I have waked up. Come for me.’ - - [3] Ä hä he̱y´ - -“‘It is a ghost,’ the villagers cried; and they feared to go. - -“Some brave young men, listening, thought they knew Yellow Elk’s voice. -They went to the burying ground and called, ‘Are you alive, Yellow Elk?’ - -“‘Yes,’ he answered, ‘I have waked up!’ - -“The young men rolled the logs from his body and bore Yellow Elk to the -village; he was too weak to walk.” - -This story of Yellow Elk I thought wonderful; but it scared me to know -that my great-grandfather had been to the ghost land and had come back -again. - -Enemies gave our tribes much trouble after the smallpox year, my -grandmother said. Bands of Sioux waylaid hunting parties or came -prowling around our villages to steal horses. Our chiefs, Mandan and -Hidatsa, held a council and decided to remove farther up the Missouri. -“We will build a new village,” they agreed, “and dwell together as one -tribe.” - -The site chosen for the new village was a place called Like-a-Fishhook -Point, a bit of high bench land that jutted into a bend of the -Missouri. We set out for our new home in the spring, when I was four -years old. I remember nothing of our march thither. My mothers have -told me that not many horses were then owned by the Hidatsas, and that -robes, pots, axes, bags of corn and other stuff were packed on the -backs of women or on travois dragged by dogs. - -[Illustration] - -The march was led by the older chiefs and medicine men. My grandfather -was one of them. His name was Missouri River. On the pommel of his -saddle hung his medicines, or sacred objects, two human skulls wrapped -in a skin. They were believed to be the skulls of thunder birds, who, -before they died, had changed themselves into Indians. After the -chiefs, in a long line, came warriors, women, and children. Young men -who owned ponies were sent ahead to hunt meat for the evening camp. -Others rode up and down the line to speed the stragglers and to see -that no child strayed off to fall into the hands of our enemies, the -Sioux. - -The earth lodges that the Mandans and Hidatsas built, were dome-shaped -houses of posts and beams, roofed over with willows-and-grass, and -earth; but every family owned a tepee, or skin tent, for use when -hunting or traveling. Our two tribes camped in these tents the first -summer at Like-a-Fishhook Point, while they cleared ground for -cornfields. - -The labor of clearing was done chiefly by the women, although the older -men helped. Young men were expected to be off fighting our enemies or -hunting buffaloes. There was need for hunting. Our small, first year’s -fields could yield no large crops; and, to keep from going hungry -in the winter months, we must lay in a good store of dried meat. We -owned few guns in the tribe then; and hunting buffaloes with arrows -was anything but sport. Only young men, strong and active, made good -hunters. - -My mothers were hard-working women, and began their labor of clearing a -field almost as soon as camp was pitched. My grandmother, Turtle, chose -the ground for the field. It was in a piece of bottom land that lay -along the river, a little east of the camp. My mothers had brought seed -corn from the Five Villages; and squash, bean and sunflower seed. - -I am not sure that they were able to plant much corn the first season. -I know they planted some beans and a few squashes. I am told that -when the squash harvest came in, my grandmother picked out a long -green-striped squash for me, for a doll baby. I carried this about on -my back, snuggled under my buffalo-calf robe, as I had seen Indian -mothers carry their babies. At evening I wrapped my dolly in a bit of -skin and put her to bed. - -[Illustration] - -Our camp on a summer’s evening was a cheerful scene. At this hour, -fires burned before most of the tepees; and, as the women had ended -their day’s labors, there was much visiting from tent to tent. Here -a family sat eating their evening meal. Yonder, a circle of old men, -cross-legged or squat-on-heels in the firelight, joked and told -stories. From a big tent on one side of the camp came the _tum-tum -tum-tum_ of a drum. We had dancing almost every evening in those -good days. - -But for wee folks bedtime was rather early. In my father’s family, it -was soon after sunset. My mothers had laid dry grass around the tent -wall, and on this had spread buffalo skins for beds. Small logs, laid -along the edge of the beds, caught any sparks from the fireplace; for, -when the nights grew chill, my mothers made their fire in the tepee. My -father often sat and sang me to sleep by the firelight. - -He had many songs. Some of them were for little boys: others were for -little girls. Of the girls’ songs, there was one I liked very much; it -was something like this: - - My sister asks me to go out and stretch the smoke-flap. - My armlets and earrings shine! - I go through the woods where the elm trees grow. - Why do the berries not ripen? - What berries do you like best?—the red? the blue? - -This song I used to try to sing to my squash doll, but I found it hard -to remember the words. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - SECOND CHAPTER - - WINTER CAMP - - -The medicine men of the two tribes had laid out the plan of our new -village when they made camp in the spring. There was to be an open -circle in the center, with the lodges of the chiefs and principal men -opening upon it; and in the center of the circle was to stand the -Mandans’ sacred corral. This corral was very holy. Around it were held -solemn dances, when young men fasted and cut their flesh to win favor -of the gods. - -The early planning of the village by our medicine men made it possible -for a woman to choose a site and begin building her earth lodge. Few -lodges, however, were built the first summer. My mothers did not even -begin building theirs; but they got ready the timbers with which to -frame it. - -Going often into the woods with their dogs to gather firewood, they -kept a sharp lookout for trees that would make good beams or posts; -these they felled later, and let lie to cure. For rafters, they cut -long poles; and from cottonwood trunks they split puncheons for the -sloping walls. In olden days puncheons were split with wedges of -buffalo horn. A core of hard ash wood was driven into the hollow horn -to straighten it and make it solid. - -Autumn came; my mothers harvested their rather scanty crops; and, with -the moon of Yellow Leaves, we struck tents and went into winter camp. -My tribe usually built their winter village down in the thick woods -along the Missouri, out of reach of the cold prairie winds. It was -of earth lodges, like those of our summer village, but smaller and -more rudely put together. We made camp this winter not very far from -Like-a-Fishhook Point. - -My father’s lodge, or, better, my mothers’ lodge,—for an earth lodge -belonged to the women who built it—was more carefully constructed than -most winter lodges were. Earth was heaped thick on the roof to keep in -the warmth; and against the sloping walls without were leaned thorny -rosebushes, to keep the dogs from climbing up and digging holes in the -roof. The fireplace was a round, shallow pit, with edges plastered -smooth with mud. Around the walls stood the family beds, six of them, -covered each with an old tent skin on a frame of poles. - -A winter lodge was never very warm; and, if there were old people or -children in the family, a second, or “twin lodge,” was often built. -This was a small lodge with roof peaked like a tepee, but covered with -bark and earth. A covered passage led from it to the main lodge. - -The twin lodge had two uses. In it the grandparents or other feeble or -sickly members of the family could sit, snug and warm, on the coldest -day; and the children of the household used it as a playhouse. - -I can just remember playing in our twin lodge, and making little feasts -with bits of boiled tongue or dried berries that my mothers gave me. -I did not often get to go out of doors; for I was not a strong little -girl, and, as the winter was a hard one, my mothers were at pains to -see that I was kept warm. I had a tiny robe, made of a buffalo-calf -skin, that I drew over my little buckskin dress; and short girls’ -leggings over my ankles. In the twin lodge, as in the larger earth -lodge, the smoke hole let in plenty of fresh air. - -My mothers had a scant store of corn and beans, and some strings of -dried squashes; and they had put by two or three sacks of dried prairie -turnips. A mess of these turnips was boiled now and then and was very -good. Once, I remember, we had a pudding, dried prairie turnips pounded -to a meal and boiled with dried June berries. Such a pudding was sweet, -and we children were fond of it. - -To eke out our store of corn and keep the pot boiling, my father hunted -much of the time. To hunt deer he left the lodge before daybreak, on -snowshoes, if the snow was deep. He had a flintlock gun, a smoothbore -with a short barrel. The wooden stock was studded with brass nails. For -shot he used slugs, bits of lead which he cut from a bar, and chewed to -make round like bullets. Powder and shot were hard to get in those days. - -[Illustration] - -Buffaloes were not much hunted in winter, when they were likely to -be poor in flesh; but my father and his friends made one hunt before -midwinter set in. Buffaloes were hunted with bow and arrows, from -horseback. Only a fleet pony could overtake a buffalo, and there were -not many such owned in the tribe. We thought a man rich who had a good -buffalo horse. - -My father stabled his horses at night in our lodge, in a little corral -fenced off against the wall. “I do not want the Sioux to steal them,” -he used to say. In the morning, after breakfast, he drove them out upon -the prairie, to pasture, but brought them in again before sunset. In -very cold weather my mothers cut down young cottonwoods and let our -horses browse on the tender branches. - -Early in the spring our people returned to Like-a-Fishhook Point and -took up again the labor of clearing and planting fields. Each family -had its own field, laid out in the timbered bottom lands along the -Missouri, if possible, in a rather open place where there were no large -trees to fell. - -[Illustration] - -Felling trees and grubbing out bushes were done with iron tools, axes -and heavy hoes, gotten of the traders. I have heard that in old times -my tribe used stone axes, but I never saw them myself. Our family field -was larger than any owned by our neighbors; and my mothers were at -pains to add to it, for they had many mouths to feed. My grandmother, -Turtle, helped them, rising at the first sound of the birds to follow -my mothers to the field. - -Turtle was old-fashioned in her ways and did not take kindly to iron -tools. “I am an Indian,” she would say, “I use the ways my fathers -used.” Instead of grubbing out weeds and bushes, she pried them from -the ground with a wooden digging stick. I think she was as skillful -with this as were my mothers with their hoes of iron. - -Digging sticks are even yet used by old Hidatsa women for digging wild -turnips. The best kind is made of a stout ash sapling, slightly bent -and trimmed at the root end to a three-cornered point. To harden the -point, it is oiled with marrow fat, and a bunch of dry grass is tied -around it and fired. The charring makes the point almost as hard as -iron. - -[Illustration] - -Turtle, I think, was the last woman in the tribe to use an -old-fashioned, bone-bladed hoe. Two other old women owned such hoes, -but no longer used them in the fields. Turtle’s hoe was made of the -shoulder bone of a buffalo set in a light-wood handle, the blade firmly -bound in place with thongs. The handle was rather short, and so my -grandmother stooped as she worked among her corn hills. - -She used to keep the hoe under her bed. As I grew a bit older my -playmates and I thought it a curious old tool, and sometimes we -tried to take it out and look at it, when Turtle would cry, “_Nah, -nah!_[4] Go away! Let that hoe alone; you will break it!” - - [4] Näh - -We children were a little afraid of Turtle. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - THIRD CHAPTER - - THE BUFFALO-SKIN CAP - - -The winter I was six years old my mother, _Weahtee_, died. - -The Black Mouths, a men’s society, had brought gifts to One Buffalo and -asked him to be winter chief. “We know you own sacred objects, and have -power with the gods,” they said. “We want you to pray for us and choose -the place for our camp.” - -One Buffalo chose a place in the woods at the mouth of Many-Frogs -Brook, three miles from Like-a-Fishhook village. I remember our journey -thither. There was a round, open place in the trees by Many-Frogs -Brook, where young men fasted and made offerings to the gods. It was -a holy place; and One Buffalo thought, if we pitched our winter camp -near-by, the gods would remember us and give us a good winter. - -But it was a hard winter from its start. Cold weather set in before we -had our lodges well under cover; and, with the first snow, smallpox -broke out in camp. Had it been in summer, my tribe could have broken up -into small bands and scattered; and the smallpox would have died out. -This they could not do in winter, and many died. My brother, my mother -_Weahtee_, and her sister Stalk-of-Corn, died, of my father’s family. - -[Illustration] - -Although my old grandmother was good to me, I often wept for my mother. -I was lonesome in our winter lodge, and we Indian children did not -have many playthings. Old Turtle made me a dolly of deer skin stuffed -with antelope hair. She sewed on two white bone beads for eyes. I bit -off one of these bone beads, to see if it was good to eat, I suppose. -For some days my dolly was one-eyed, until my grandmother sewed on a -beautiful new eye, a blue glass bead she had gotten of a trader. I -thought this much better, for now my dolly had one blue eye and one -white one. - -I liked to play with my father’s big hunting cap. It was made of -buffalo skin, from the part near the tail where the hair is short. He -wore it with the fur side in. Two ears of buffalo skin, stuffed with -antelope hair to make them stand upright, were sewed one on each side. -They were long, to look like a jack rabbit’s ears; but they looked -more like the thumbs of two huge mittens. My father, I think, had had -a dream from the jack-rabbit spirits, and wore the cap as a kind of -prayer to them. Jack rabbits are hardy animals and fleet of foot. They -live on the open prairies through the hardest winters; and a full grown -rabbit can outrun a wolf. An Indian hunter had need to be nimble-footed -and hardy, like a jack rabbit. - -Small Ankle thought his cap a protection in other ways. It kept his -head warm. Then, if he feared enemies were about, he could draw his cap -down to hide his dark hair, creep up a hill and spy over the top. Being -of dull color, like dead grass, the cap was not easily seen on the sky -line. A Sioux, spying it, would likely think it a coyote, or wolf, with -erect, pointed ears, peering over the hill, as these animals often did. -There were many such caps worn by our hunters; but most of them had -short pointed ears, like a coyote’s. - -My father sometimes hung his cap, wet with snow, on the drying poles -over the fire to dry. I would watch it with longing eyes; and, when -I thought it well warmed, I would hold up my small hands and say, -“Father, let me play with the cap.” I liked to sit in it, my small -ankles turned to the right, like an Indian woman’s; for I liked the -feel of the warm fur against my bare knees. At other times I marched -about the lodge, the big cap set loosely on my head, and my dolly -thrust under my robe on my back. In doing this I always made my -grandmother laugh. “Hey, hey,” she would cry, “that is a warrior’s cap. -A little girl can not be a warrior.” - -[Illustration] - -The winter, if hard, was followed by an early spring. Snow was thawing -and flocks of wild geese were flying north a month before their wonted -time. The women of the Goose Society called the people for their spring -dance, and prayed the gods for good weather for the corn planting. One -Buffalo sent a crier through the lodges, warning us to make ready to -break camp. On the day set, we all returned to Like-a-Fishhook village, -glad to leave our stuffy little winter lodges for our roomy summer -homes. - -One morning, shortly after our return, my father came into the lodge -with two brave men, Flying Eagle and Stuck-by-Fish. My grandfather, -Big Cloud, joined them. Big Cloud lighted a pipe, offered smoke to the -gods, and passed the pipe to the others. It was a long pipe with black -stone bowl. The four men talked together. I heard my father speak of a -war party and that he was sure his gods were strong. - -Toward evening, Red Blossom boiled meat and set it before the men. When -they had eaten, Small Ankle rose and went to his medicine bag, that -hung in the rear of the lodge. He held out his hands and I saw his lips -move; and I knew he was praying. He opened the medicine bag and took -out a bundle which he unrolled. It was a black bear’s skin, painted -red. He bore the skin reverently out of the lodge, and came back -empty-handed. Flying Eagle and Stuck-by-Fish rose and left the lodge. - -My father sat by the fire awhile, silent. Then from a post of his bed -he fetched his hunting cap. “I shall need this cap,” he said to Red -Blossom. “See if it must be sewed or mended in any place.” - -[Illustration] - -The next morning when I went out of the lodge, I saw that the -black-bear skin was bound to one of the posts at the entrance. This was -a sign that my father was going to lead out a war party. I was almost -afraid to pass the bear skin, for I knew it was very holy. - -For days after, young men came to our lodge to talk with my father and -Big Cloud. My mothers—for so I called Red Blossom and Strikes-Many -Woman—had the pot boiling all the time, to give food to the young -warriors. - -One night I was in bed and asleep, when I woke with a start, hearing -low voices. Peeping out, I saw many young men sitting around the -fireplace. The fire had died down, but the night was clear and a little -light came through the smoke hole. Many of the young men had bows and -well-filled quivers on their backs. A few had guns. - -Some one struck flint and steel, and I saw by the glow of the burning -tobacco that a pipe was being passed. The men were talking low, almost -in whispers. Then I heard Big Cloud’s voice, low and solemn, praying: -“Oh gods, keep watch over these our young men. Let none of them be -harmed. Help them strike many enemies and steal many horses.” - -The company now arose and filed out of the lodge. As the skin door fell -shut after them, I heard the whinny of Small Ankle’s war pony without. -Next morning, I learned that Small Ankle and Big Cloud had led out a -war party, all mounted, to strike the northern Sioux. - -The ice on the Missouri river broke, and ran out with much crashing and -roaring. Some dead buffaloes, frozen in the ice, came floating down -the current. Our brave young men, leaping upon the ice cakes, poled -the carcasses to shore. We were glad to get such carcasses. Buffaloes -killed in the spring were lean and poor in flesh; but these, frozen in -the ice, were fat and tender. - -A good many frozen carcasses were thus taken at the spring break-up. -In the fall the rivers froze over, often with rather thin ice. A herd -would come down to the river’s edge and stand lowing and grumbling, -until some bold bull walked out upon the ice. The whole herd followed, -often breaking through with their weight. - -[Illustration] - -The weather stayed warm. Bushes in the woods had begun to leaf, and old -Turtle even raked part of our field and planted sunflower seed around -the border. “We never saw such an early spring,” said some of the old -men. - -Then, one night, a cold wind arose with rain turning to snow. I woke -up, crying out that I was chilled. My grandmother, who slept with me, -pulled over us an extra robe she had laid up on the top of the bed -frame. - -The next morning a terrible blizzard broke over our village. The wind -howled overhead, driving the falling snow in blinding clouds. Red -Blossom drew her robe over her head and went to the entrance to run -over to our next neighbor’s; but she came back. “I am afraid to go -out,” she said. “The air is so full of snow that I can not see my -hand when I hold it before my face. I fear I might lose my way, and -wander out on the prairie and die.” There were stories in the tribe of -villagers who had perished thus. - -Old Turtle and Strikes-Many Woman made ready our noon meal—no easy -thing to do; for the cold wind, driving down the smoke hole, blew ashes -into our faces and into our food. An old bull-boat frame was turned -over the smoke hole. Against it, on the windward side, my mothers had -laid a buffalo skin the night before, weighting it down with a stone. -This was to keep the wind from blowing smoke down the smoke hole; but -the wind had shifted in the night, blowing the buffalo skin off the -boat frame. The weight of the stone had sunk one end of the skin into -the earth roof, where it had frozen fast; and we could hear the loose -end flapping and beating in the wind. Little snow came down the smoke -hole. The wind was so strong that it carried the snow off the roof. - -Turtle and Strikes-Many Woman had gone with dogs for firewood only the -day before; so there was plenty of fuel in the lodge. We could not go -to get water at the river; but Red Blossom crept into the entrance way -and filled a skin basket with snow. This she melted in a clay pot, for -water. It was in this water that we boiled our meat for the midday -meal. In spite of the calf skin that my grandmother belted about me, -I shivered with the cold until my teeth chattered. Turtle poured some -of the meat broth, steaming hot, into a wooden bowl, and fetched me -a buffalo-horn spoon. With this spoon I scooped up the broth, glad to -swallow something hot into my cold little stomach. - -After our meal, my two mothers and Turtle sat on my father’s couch, -looking grave. “I hope Small Ankle and Big Cloud have reached shelter -in the Missouri-river timber,” I heard Red Blossom say. “If they are on -the prairie in this storm, they will die.” - -“Big Cloud’s prayers are strong,” answered Turtle, “and Small Ankle is -a good plainsman. I am sure they and their party will find shelter.” - -“I knew a Mandan who was caught in a blizzard,” said Red Blossom. “He -walked with the wind until he fell into a coulee, that was full of -snow. He burrowed under the drifts and lay on his back, with his knees -doubled against his chin and his robe tight about him. He lay there -three days, until the storm blew over. He had a little parched corn for -food; and, for drink, he ate snow. He came home safely; but his mouth -was sore from the snow he had eaten.” - -Darkness came early, with the wind still screaming overhead. Turtle -tried to parch some corn in a clay pot, but blasts from the smoke hole -blew ashes into her eyes. She took out a handful of the half-parched -corn, when it had cooled, and poured it into my two hands. This was my -supper; but she also gave me a lump of dried chokecherries to eat. They -were sweet and I was fond of them. - -I awoke the next morning to see my mothers cooking our breakfast, -parched-corn meal stirred into a thick mush with beans and marrow fat. -I sprang out of bed and glanced up at the smoke hole. The sky, I saw, -was clear and the sun was shining. - -The second day after, about midafternoon, Small Ankle came home. I -heard the tinkle of the hollow hoofs that hung on the skin door, and in -a moment my father came around the fire screen leading his war pony, a -bay with a white nose. He put his pony in the corral, replaced the bar, -and came over to his couch by the fire. My mothers said nothing. Red -Blossom put water and dried meat in a pot and set it on the fire, and -Turtle fetched an armful of green cottonwood bark to feed the pony. - -My father took off his big cap and hung it on the drying pole, and -wrung out his moccasins and hung them beside the cap. They were winter -moccasins, and in each was a kind of stocking, of buffalo skin turned -fur in, and cut and sewed to fit snugly over the foot. These stockings -Small Ankle drew out and laid by the fire, to dry. He put on dry -moccasins, threw off his robe, and took upon his knees the bowl of -broth and meat that Red Blossom silently handed him. - -In the evening, some of his cronies came in to smoke and talk. Small -Ankle told them of his war party. - -“We had a hard time,” he said. “Perhaps the gods, for some cause, were -angry with us. We had gone five days; evening came and it began to -rain. We were on the prairie, and our young men sat all night with -their saddles and saddle skins over their heads to keep off the rain. - -“In the morning, the rain turned to snow. A heavy wind blew the snow in -our faces, nearly blinding us. - -[Illustration] - -“‘We must make our way to the Missouri timber and find shelter,’ Big -Cloud said. - -“Flying Eagle feared we could not find our way. ‘The air is so full of -snow that we can not see the hills,’ he said. - -“‘The wind will guide us,’ said Stuck-by-Fish. ‘We know the Missouri -river is in the south. The wind is from the west. If we travel with the -wind on our right, we shall be headed south. We should reach the river -before night.’ - -“I thought this a good plan, and I cried, ‘My young men, saddle your -horses.’ We had flat saddles, such as hunters use. We had a few bundles -of dried meat left. These we bound firmly to our saddles, for we knew -we could kill no game while the storm lasted. - -“Many of my young men had head cloths which they bound over their hair -and under their chins; but the wind was so strong that it blew the wet -snow through the cloths, freezing them to the men’s faces. I had on my -fur cap, which kept my face warm. Also, I think the jack-rabbit spirits -helped me. - -“We pushed on; but the snow got deeper and deeper until we could hardly -force our ponies through it. We grew so chilled that Big Cloud ordered -us to dismount and go afoot. ‘You go first,’ he said to Flying Eagle. -‘You are a tall man and have long legs. You break the way through the -snow. We will follow single-file.’ - -“Flying Eagle did so, leading his pony. With Flying Eagle had come his -brother, Short Buffalo, a lad of fourteen or fifteen years. He was not -yet grown, and his legs were so short that he could not make his way -through the deep snow. We let him ride. - -“But in a little while Short Buffalo cried out, ‘My brother, I freeze; -I die!’ - -“Flying Eagle called back, ‘Do not give up, little brother. Be strong!’ -And he came back and bound Short Buffalo’s robe snugly about his neck, -and took the reins of his pony, so that Short Buffalo could draw his -hands under his robe to warm them. Short Buffalo’s robe had frozen -stiff in the cold wind. - -“We reached the Missouri before nightfall and went down into the thick -timber. It was good to be out of the freezing wind, sheltered by the -trees. - -“Flying Eagle led us to a point of land over which had swept a fire, -killing the trees. Many dead cottonwoods stood there, with shaggy bark. -We peeled off the thick outer bark, shredding the dry inner bark -for tinder. I had flint and steel. We rolled over a fallen trunk and -started a fire on the dry ground beneath. We broke off dead branches -for fuel. - -“Flying Eagle helped me get wood and start the fire. He is a strong -man and bore the cold better than the others. Many of the men were too -benumbed to help any. My mittens and my cap had kept me warm. - -“The men’s leggings, wetted by rain and snow, were frozen stiff. We -soon had a hot fire. When their leggings had thawed soft, the men took -off these and their moccasins, and wrung them out; and when they had -half dried them by the fire, put them on again. They also put shredded -cottonwood bark in their moccasins, packing it about their feet and -ankles to keep them warm and dry. - -“We toasted dried meat over the fire, and ate; for we were hungry, and -weak from the cold. We fed our ponies green cottonwood branches that we -cut with our knives. - -“The storm died down before morning; and early the next day we started -down the river to our village. We were slow coming, for the snow -thawed, growing soft and slushy under our ponies’ feet. Our ponies, -too, were weak from the cold.” - -Many of the young men of my father’s party had their faces frozen on -the right side. Short Buffalo had part of his right hand frozen, and -his right foot. He was sick for a long time. Another war party that had -been led out by Wooden House had also been caught in the storm and had -fared even worse. They were afoot, and, not being able to reach the -river timber, they lay down in a coulee and let the snow drift over -them. Two were frozen to death. - -The leaders of a war party were held to blame for any harm that came -to their men. The villagers, however, did not blame my father much. -Some of the older men said, “Small Ankle and Big Cloud were foolish. -The wild geese had come north, but this fact alone was not proof that -winter had gone. We know that bad storms often blow up at this season -of the year.” - -Of course, being but six years old, I could hardly remember all these -things. But my father talked of his war party many times afterwards, at -his evening fire, as he smoked with his cronies; and so I came to know -the story. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - FOURTH CHAPTER - - STORY TELLING - - -My good old grandmother could be stern when I was naughty; -nevertheless, I loved her dearly, and I know she was fond of me. After -the death of my mother, it fell to Turtle to care for me much of the -time. There were other children in the household, and, with so many -mouths to feed, my two other mothers, as I called them, had plenty of -work to do. - -Indians are great story tellers; especially are they fond of telling -tales around the lodge fire in the long evenings of autumn and winter. -My father and his cronies used sometimes to sit up all night, drumming -and singing and telling stories. Young men often came with gift of robe -or knife, to ask him to tell them tales of our tribe. - -I was too young yet to understand many of these tales. My father was -hours telling some of them, and they had many strange words. But my -grandmother used to tell me stories as she sat or worked by the lodge -fire. - -[Illustration] - -One evening in the corn planting moon, she was making ready her seed -for the morrow’s planting. She had a string of braided ears lying -beside her. Of these ears she chose the best, broke off the tip and -butt of each, and shelled the perfect grain of the mid-cob into a -wooden bowl. Baby-like, I ran my fingers through the shiny grain, -spilling a few kernels on the floor. - -“Do not do that,” cried my grandmother. “Corn is sacred; if you waste -it, the gods will be angry.” - -I still drew my fingers through the smooth grain, and my grandmother -continued: “Once a Ree woman went out to gather her corn. She tied her -robe about her with a big fold in the front, like a pocket. Into this -she dropped the ears that she plucked, and bore them off to the husking -pile. All over the field she went, row by row, leaving not an ear. - -“She was starting off with her last load when she heard a weak voice, -like a babe’s, calling, ‘Please, please do not go. Do not leave me.’ - -“The woman stopped, astonished. She put down her load. ‘Can there be a -babe hidden in the corn?’ she thought. She then carefully searched the -field, hill by hill, but found nothing. - -“She was taking up her load, when again she heard the voice: ‘Oh, -please do not go. Do not leave me!’ Again she searched, but found -nothing. - -“She was lifting her load when the voice came the third time: ‘Please, -please, do not go! Please, do not leave me!’ - -“This time the woman searched every corn hill, lifting every leaf. And -lo, in one corner of the field, hidden under a leaf, she found a tiny -nubbin of yellow corn. It was the nubbin that had been calling to her. -For so the gods would teach us not to be wasteful of their gifts.” - -Another evening I was trying to parch an ear of corn over the coals of -our lodge fire. I had stuck the ear on the end of a squash spit, as I -had seen my mothers do; but my baby fingers were not strong enough to -fix the ear firmly, and it fell off into the coals and began to burn. -My mouth puckered, and I was ready to cry. - -My grandmother laughed. “You should put only half the ear on the spit,” -she said. “That is the way the Mandans did when they first gave us -corn.” - -I dropped the spit and, forgetting the burning ear, asked eagerly, “How -did the Mandans give us corn, grandmother? Tell me the story.” - -Turtle picked up the spit and raked the burning ear from the ashes. -“I have told you that the gods gave us corn to eat, not to waste,” -she said. “Some of the kernels on this cob are well parched.” And she -shelled off a handful and put one of the hot kernels in her mouth. - -“I will tell you the story,” she continued. “I had it from my mother -when I was a little girl like you. - -“In the beginning, our Hidatsa people lived under the waters of Devils -Lake. They had earth lodges and lived much as we live now. One day -some hunters found the root of a grapevine growing down from the lake -overhead. They climbed the vine and found themselves on this earth. -Others climbed the vine until half the tribe had escaped; but, when a -fat woman tried to climb it, the vine broke, leaving the rest of the -tribe under the lake. - -“Those who had safely climbed the vine, built villages of earth lodges. -They lived by hunting; and some very old men say that they also planted -small fields in ground beans and wild potatoes. As yet the Hidatsas -knew nothing of corn or squashes. - -“One day, a war party that had wandered west to the Missouri river saw -on the other side a village of earth lodges like their own. It was a -village of the Mandans. Neither they nor the Hidatsas would cross over, -each party fearing the other might be enemies. - -“It was in the fall of the year, and the Missouri was running low, so -that an arrow could be shot from shore to shore. The Mandans parched -some ears of ripe corn with the grain on the cob. These ears they -broke in pieces, stuck the pieces on the points of arrows and shot them -across the river. ‘Eat!’ they called. The word for ‘eat’ is the same in -both the Hidatsa and the Mandan languages. - -[Illustration] - -“The Hidatsas ate of the parched corn. They returned to their village -and said, ‘We have found a people on a great river, to the west. They -have a strange kind of grain. We ate of it and found it good.’ - -“After this, a party of Hidatsas went to visit the Mandans. The Mandan -chief took an ear of corn, broke it in two, and gave half to the -Hidatsas for seed. This half ear the Hidatsas took home, and soon every -family in the village was planting corn.” - -My father had been listening, as he sat smoking on the other side of -the fire. “I know that story,” he said. “The name of the Mandan chief -was Good-Fur Robe.” - -My grandmother then put me to bed. I was so sleepy that I did not -notice she had eaten up all the corn I had parched. - -Winter came again, and spring. As soon as the soil could be worked, -my mothers and old Turtle began cleaning up our field, and breaking -new ground to add to it. Our first year’s field had been small; but my -mothers added to it each season, until the field was as large as our -family needed. - -I was too little to note very much of what was done. I remember that my -father set up boundary marks—little piles of earth or stones, I think -they were—to mark the corners of the field we claimed. My mothers and -Turtle began at one end of the field and worked forward. My mothers had -their heavy iron hoes; and Turtle, her old-fashioned digging stick. - -On the new ground, my mothers first cut the long grass with their hoes, -bearing it off the field to be burned. They next dug and loosened the -soil in places for the corn hills, which they laid off in rows. These -hills they planted. Then all summer in this and other parts of the -field they worked with their hoes, breaking and loosening the soil -between the corn hills and cutting weeds. - -Small trees and bushes, I know, were cut off with axes; but I remember -little of this labor, most of it having been done the year before, when -I was yet quite small. My father once told me that in very old times, -when the women cleared a field, they first dug the corn hills with -digging sticks, and afterwards worked between them with their bone hoes. - -I remember this season’s work the better for a dispute that my mothers -had with two neighbors, Lone Woman and Goes-Back-to-Next-Timber. These -two women were clearing lands that bordered our own. My father, I -have said, to set up claim to our land, had placed boundary marks, -one of them in the corner that touched the fields of Lone Woman and -Goes-Back-to-Next-Timber. While my mothers were busy clearing and -digging up the other end of their field, their two neighbors invaded -this marked-off corner. Lone Woman had even dug up a small part before -she was discovered. - -My mothers showed Lone Woman the mark my father had placed. -“This land belongs to us,” they said; “but we will pay you and -Goes-Back-to-Next-Timber for any rights you may think are yours. We do -not want our neighbors to bear us any hard feelings.” - -We Indians thought our fields sacred, and we did not like to quarrel -about them. A family’s right to a field once having been set up, no one -thought of disputing it. If any one tried to seize land belonging to -another, we thought some evil would come upon him; as that one of his -family would die or have some bad sickness. - -There is a story of a hunter who had before been a black bear, and had -been given great magic power. He dared try to catch eagles from another -man’s pit, and had his mind taken from him for doing so. Thus the gods -punished him for entering ground that was not his own. - -Lone Woman and Goes-Back-to-Next-Timber having withdrawn, my -grandmother Turtle undertook to clear and break the ground that had -been in dispute. She was a little woman but active, and she loved to -work out-of-doors. Often, when my mothers were busy in the earth lodge, -Turtle would go out to work in the field, and she would take me along -for company. I was too little to help her any, but I liked to watch her -work. - -[Illustration] - -With her digging stick Turtle dug up a little round place in the center -of the corner, and around this she circled from day to day, enlarging -the dug-up space. She had folded her robe over her middle, like a -pad. Resting the handle of her digging stick against her folded robe, -she would drive the point into the soft earth to a depth equal to the -length of my hand and pry up the soil. - -She broke clods by striking them smartly with her digging stick. Roots -of coarse grass, weeds, small brush and the like, she took in her hand -and shook or struck them against the ground, to knock off the loose -earth clinging to them. She then cast them into little piles to dry. In -a few days she gathered these piles into a heap about four feet high -and burned them. - -My grandmother worked in this way all summer, but not always in the -corner that had been in dispute. Some days, I remember, she dug along -the edges of the field, to add to it and make the edges even. Of -course, not all the labor of enlarging the field was done by Turtle; -but she liked to have me with her when she worked, and I remember best -what I saw her do. - -It was my grandmother’s habit to rise early in the summer months. -She often arrived at the field before sunrise; about ten o’clock she -returned to the lodge to eat and rest. - -One morning, having come to the field quite early, I grew tired of my -play before my grandmother had ended her work. “I want to go home,” -I begged, and I began to cry. Just then a strange bird flew into the -field. It had a long curved beak, and made a queer cry, _cur-lew, -cur-lew_. - -I stopped weeping. My grandmother laughed. - -“That is a curlew,” she said. “Once at the mouth of the Knife river, a -woman went out with her digging stick to dig wild turnips. The woman -had a babe. Growing tired of carrying her babe on her back, she laid it -on the ground. - -“The babe began to cry. The mother was busy digging turnips, and did -not go to her babe as she should have done. By and by she looked up. -Her babe was flying away as a bird! - -“The bird was a curlew, that cries like a babe. Now, if you cry, -perhaps you, too, will turn into a curlew.” - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - FIFTH CHAPTER - - LIFE IN AN EARTH LODGE - - -The small lodges we built for winter did not stand long after we left -them in the spring. Built on low ground by the Missouri, they were -often swept away in the June rise; for in that month the river is -flooded by snows melting in the Rocky Mountains. - -The loss of our winter lodges never troubled us, however; for we -thought of them as but huts. Then, too, we seldom wintered twice in the -same place. We burned much firewood in our winter lodges, and before -spring came the women had to go far to find it. The next season we made -camp in a new place, where was plenty of dead-and-down wood for fuel. - -We looked upon our summer lodges, to which we came every spring, as our -real homes. There were about seventy of these, earth lodges well-built -and roomy, in Like-a-Fishhook village. Most of them were built the -second summer of our stay there. - -My mothers’ earth lodge—for the lodge belonged to the women of a -household—was a large one, with floor measuring more than forty feet -across. In the center was the fireplace. A screen of puncheons, set -upright in a trench, stood between the fireplace and the door. This -screen shut out draughts and kept out the dogs. - -The screen ran quite to the sloping wall, on the right; but, on -the left, there was space for a passage from the door to the fire. -Right and left in an Indian lodge are reckoned as one stands at the -fireplace, looking toward the door. We thought an earth lodge was alive -and had a spirit like a human body, and that its front was like a face, -with the door for mouth. - -[Illustration] - -Before the fireplace and against the puncheon screen was my father’s -bed. Forked posts, eighteen inches high, stood in the earth floor. On -poles laid in the forks rested cottonwood planks over which were thrown -buffalo robes. A skin pillow, stuffed with antelope hair, lay at one -end of the bed. - -The beds of the rest of the family stood in the back of the lodge, -against the wall. They were less simply made than my father’s, being -each covered with an old tent skin drawn over a frame of posts and -poles. The bedding was of buffalo skins. As these could not be washed, -my mothers used to take them out and hang them on the poles of the corn -stage on sunny days, to air. - -[Illustration] - -Most of the earth lodges—at least most of the larger ones—had each a -bed like my father’s before the fireplace; for this was the warmest -place in the lodge. Usually the eldest in the family, as the father or -grandfather, slept in this bed. - -My father’s bed, not being enclosed, made a good lounging place by day, -and here he sat to smoke or chat with his friends. My mothers, too, -used to sit here to peel wild turnips or make ready the daily meals. - -Two or three sticks burned in the fireplace, not piled one upon the -other as done by white men, but laid with ends meeting. As the ends -burned away, the sticks were pushed in, keeping alive a small but hot -fire. At night, the last thing my father did was to cover one of these -burning sticks with ashes, that it might keep fire until morning. - -Unless he had spent the night with some of his cronies, my father was -the first to rise in the morning. He would go to the fireplace, draw -out a buried coal, lay some dry sticks upon it, and blow with his -breath until the fire caught. Sometimes he fanned the coal with a goose -wing. - -Soon a little column of smoke would rise toward the smoke hole, and my -father would call, “Up, little daughter; up, sons! Get up, wives! The -sun is up. To the river for your bath! Hasten!” And he would go up on -the roof to look if enemies were about and if his horses were safe. My -mothers were already up when I crept from my bed still sleepy, but glad -that morning had come. - -[Illustration] - -But if the weather was cold, we did not go to the river to bathe. An -earthen pot full of water stood by one of the posts near the fire. It -rested in a ring of bark, to keep it from falling. My mothers dipped -each a big horn spoon full of water, filled her mouth, and, blowing the -water over her palms, gave her face a good rubbing. Red Blossom washed -my face in the same way. I did not like it very much, and I would shut -my eyes and pucker my face when I felt the cold water. Red Blossom -would say, “Why do you pucker up your face? You make it look like a -piece of old, dried, buffalo skin.” - -[Illustration] - -Her face washed, Red Blossom sat on the edge of her bed and finished -her toilet. She had a little fawn-skin bag, worked with red porcupine -quills. From this bag she took her hairbrush, a porcupine tail mounted -on a stick, with the sharp points of the quills cut off. She brushed -her hair smooth, parting it in two braids that fell over each shoulder -nearly hiding her ears. Red Blossom was no longer young, but her black -tresses had not a grey hair in them. - -She now opened her paint bag, put a little buffalo grease on her two -fingers, pressed the tips lightly in the dry paint, and rubbed them -over her cheeks and face. She also rubbed a little red into the part of -her hair. - -Meanwhile, the pot had been put on the fire. We Indians did not eat -many things at a meal as white men do. Usually, breakfast was of one -thing, often buffalo meat dried, and boiled to soften it. When a -buffalo was killed, the meat was cut into thin slices, and some parts, -into strips. These were dried in the open air over the earth lodge fire -or in the smoke of a small fire out-of-doors. For breakfast, a round -earthen pot was filled with water, dried meat put in, and the water -brought to a boil. Red Blossom used to lift out the hot meat slices on -the point of a stick, laying them on a bit of clean rawhide. - -A rough bench stood back of the fireplace, a cottonwood plank, with -ends resting on two blocks chopped from a tree trunk. My grandmother -Turtle sat on this bench to eat her meals. My two mothers sat beside -her, or on the floor near the meat they were serving. My father ate -sitting on the edge of his couch. A wooden bowl, heaped with steaming -meat, was set before each. Our fingers did for forks. - -Boiling the meat in water made a thin broth which we used for a hot -drink. It was very good, tasting much like white man’s beef tea. We had -no cups; but we had big spoons made of buffalo horn, and ladles, of -mountain-sheep horn. Either of these did very well for drinking cups. -Sometimes we used mussel shells. - -A common breakfast dish was _mapee[5] naka-pah_,[6] or pounded-meal -mush. From her cache pit Red Blossom took a string of dried squash -slices. She cut off a length and tied the ends together, making a -ring four or five inches in width. This ring and a double handful of -beans she dropped in a pot of water, and set on the fire. When boiled, -she lifted the ring out with a stick, with her horn ladle mashed the -softened squash slices in a wooden bowl and put them back in the pot. - - [5] mä pēē´ - - [6] nä kä päh´ - -Meanwhile Strikes-Many Woman or old Turtle had parched some corn in a -clay pot, and toasted some buffalo fats on a stick, over the coals. Red -Blossom now pounded the parched corn and toasted fats together in the -corn mortar, and stirred the pounded mass into the pot with the squash -and beans. The mess was soon done. Red Blossom dipped it into our bowls -with a horn spoon. - -[Illustration] - -We ate such messes with horn spoons or with mussel shells; for we -Hidatsas had few metal spoons in those days. There was a shelf, or -bench, at one side of the room, under the sloping roof, where were -stored wooden bowls, uneaten foods, horn spoons, and the mussel shells -that we used for teaspoons. When I was a little girl, nearly every -family owned such shells, worn smooth and shiny from use. - -After breakfast, unless it was in the corn season, when they went to -the field, my mothers tidied up the lodge. They had short brooms of -buckbrush. With these they swept the floor, stooping over and drawing -the broom with a sidewise motion. As my father stabled his hunting -ponies in the lodge at night, there was a good deal of litter to be -taken out. Red Blossom used to scrape her sweepings into a skin basket, -which she bore to the river bank and emptied. - -Other tasks were then taken up; and there were plenty of them. -Moccasins had to be made or old ones mended. Shirts and other garments -had to be made. Often there were skins to be dressed or scraped. -Leggings and shirts were embroidered usually in winter, when the women -had no corn to hoe. - -There was a good deal of visiting in our lodge; for my father was one -of the chiefs of the village, and always kept open house. “If a man -would be chief,” we said, “he should be ready to feed the poor and -strangers.” A pot with buffalo meat or corn and beans cooking was -always on the fire in my father’s lodge. His friends and the other -chief men of the village often came in to talk over affairs. A visitor -came in without knocking, but did not sit down until he was asked. - -Friends of my mothers also came in to sit and chat; and they often -joined my mothers at whatever task they might be doing. Red Blossom -would set a bowl of food before each. What she could not eat the guest -took home with her. It was impolite to leave any uneaten food, as that -would mean, “I do not like your cooking; it is unfit to eat.” - -My mothers were neat housekeepers and kept the ground about the lodge -entrance swept as clean as the lodge floor; but many families were -careless, and cast ashes, floor sweepings, scraps of broken bones and -other litter on the ground about their lodges. In time this rubbish -made little piles and became a nuisance, so that people could hardly -walk in the paths between the lodges. - -The Black Mouths then went through the village and ordered the women to -clean up. The Black Mouths were a society of men of about forty years -of age. They acted as police and punished any one who broke the camp -laws. - -These clean-ups were made rather often; in summer, perhaps twice a -month. They were always ordered by the Black Mouths. - -[Illustration] - -I remember one morning, just after breakfast, I heard singing, as of a -dozen or more men coming toward our lodge. I started to run out to see -what it was, but my mothers cried, “Do not go. It is the Black Mouths.” -My mothers, I thought, looked rather scared. We were still speaking, -when I heard the tramp of feet. The door lifted, and the Black Mouths -came in. - -They looked very terrible, all painted with the lower half of the face -black. Many, but not all, had the upper half of the face red. Some had -eagles’ feathers in their hair, and all wore robes or blankets. Some -carried guns. Others had sticks about as long as my arm. With these -sticks they beat any woman who would not help in the clean-up. - -I fled to my father, but I dared not cry out, for I, too, was scared. - -“One of you women go out and help clean up the village,” said the Black -Mouths. They spoke sternly, and several of them at once. - -Like all the other women, my mothers were afraid of the Black Mouths -“We will go,” said both, and Red Blossom caught up broom and skin -basket and went out. - -The Black Mouths went also, and I followed to see what they did. They -went into another lodge not far away. I heard voices, then the report -of a gun, and a woman screamed. After a time, the Black Mouths came out -driving before them a woman, very angry, but much frightened. She had -not moved quickly enough to get her basket, and one of the Black Mouths -had fired his gun at her feet to frighten her. The gun was loaded only -with powder. - -After they had made the rounds of the village, the Black Mouths -returned to the lodge of their “keeper,” a man named Crow Paunch. Soon -we heard singing and drumming, and knew they were singing some of the -society’s songs. - -When they had sung three or four times, there was silence for a while, -as if a pipe were being passed. Then all came out and made the rounds -a second time, to see if the work of cleaning was done and to hurry up -the laggards. The village was all cleaned before noon; but some of the -women got their work done sooner than others. - -After the clean-up the village children came out to play in the spaces -between the lodges, now swept clean and smooth. It was in these smooth -spaces that the boys liked to play at throw sticks, light willow rods -which they darted against the ground, whence they bounded to a great -distance. - - - - -[Illustration] - - SIXTH CHAPTER - - CHILDHOOD GAMES AND BELIEFS - - -White people seem to think that Indian children never have any play -and never laugh. Such ideas seem very funny to me. How can any child -grow up without play? I have seen children at our reservation school -playing white men’s games—baseball, prisoners’ base, marbles. We Indian -children also had games. I think they were better than white children’s -games. - -I look back upon my girlhood as the happiest time of my life. How I -should like to see all my little girl playmates again! Some still live, -and when we meet at feasts or at Fourth-of-July camp, we talk of the -good times we had when we were children. - -My little half sister was my usual playmate. She was two years younger -than I, and I loved her dearly. She had a pretty name, Cold Medicine. -On our prairies grows a flower with long, yellow root. In old times, if -a warrior was running from enemies and became wearied he chewed a bit -of the root and rubbed it on his eyelids. It made his eyes and tongue -feel cold and kept him awake. The flower for this reason was called -cold medicine. When my father spoke my sister’s name, it made him think -of this flower and of the many times he had bravely gone out with war -parties. - -[Illustration] - -For playgrounds my little sister and I had the level spaces between -the lodges or the ground under the corn stage, in sunny weather; and -the big, roomy floor of the earth lodge, if it rained or the weather -were chill. We liked, too, to play in the lodge in the hot days of the -Cherry moon; for it was cool inside, never hot and stuffy like a white -man’s house. In the fall, when the air was frosty, the sun often shone, -and we could play in the big yellow sunspot that fell on the floor -through the smoke hole. - -We liked to play at housekeeping, especially in the warm spring -days, when we had returned from winter camp and could again play -out-ofdoors. With the help of the neighbors’ children, we fetched long -forked sticks. These we stacked like a tepee frame and covered with -robes that we borrowed. To this play tent we brought foods and had a -feast. - -Sometimes little boys joined in our play; and then it was like real -housekeeping. We girls chose each a little boy for husband. To my -little husband I said, “Old man, get your arrows, and go kill some -buffaloes. We are hungry. Go at once!” - -My little husband hastened to his mother and told her our needs. She -laughed and gave him a boiled buffalo tongue; or perhaps pemmican, -dried meat pounded fine and mixed with marrow fat. This and the foods -which the other little husbands fetched us, we girls laid on fresh, -clean grass that we pulled. Then we sat down to feast, the little girls -on one side of the fireplace, the little boys on the other, just as we -had seen men and women sit when they feasted. Only there really was no -fireplace. We just made believe there was. - -In summer, my little sister and I often went to the river for wet clay, -which we modeled into figures. There is a smooth, blue clay found in -places at the water’s edge, very good for modeling. We liked best to -make human figures, man, woman, or little child. We dried them in the -shade, else the sun cracked them. I fear they were not very beautiful. -When we made a mud man, we had to give him three legs to make him stand -up. - -I had a doll, woven of rushes, that Turtle made me. It really was not -a doll, but a cradle, such as Indian women used for carrying a small -child. In winter I had my deer-skin doll, with the beads for eyes. -My grandmother had made me a little bed for my dolls. The frame was -of willows, and it was covered with gopher skins, tanned and sewed -together. In this little bed my sister and I used to put our dollies to -sleep. - -[Illustration] - -We had a game of ball much like shinny. It was a woman’s game, but we -little girls played it with hooked sticks. We also had a big, soft -ball, stuffed with antelope hair, which we would bounce in the air with -the foot. The game was to see how long a girl could bounce the ball -without letting it touch the ground. Some girls could bounce it more -than a hundred times. It was lots of fun. - -We coasted in winter, on small sleds made of buffalo ribs; but coasting -on the snow was rather for boys and older girls. There was another -kind of coaster that we girls liked. A buffalo skin has the hair lying -backwards, towards the flanks. I would borrow a skin of my mothers and -tie a thong through two of the stake holes at the head or neck, to -draw it by. Such a skin made a good coaster even in summer on a steep -hillside; for, laid head forward, it slid smoothly over the soft grass. - -[Illustration] - -Girls of thirteen or fourteen were fond of playing at “tossing in a -blanket,” or “foot-moving,” as we called it. There were fifteen or -twenty players. A newly dried skin was borrowed, one that was scraped -clean of hair. There were always holes cut in the edges of a hide, to -stake it to the ground while drying. Into each hole a small hard wood -stick was now thrust and twisted around, for a handle. - -Along the ditch at the edge of the village grew many tall weeds. The -players pulled armfuls of these and made them into a pile. They laid -the hide on this pile of weeds; and, with a player at every one of the -stick handles, they stretched the hide taut. - -A girl now lay downward on the hide. With a quick pull, the others -tossed her into the air, when she was expected to come down on her -feet, to be instantly tossed again. The game was to see how many times -she could be tossed without falling. A player was often tossed ten or -more times before she lost her balance. Each time, as she came down, -she kept turning in one direction, right or left. When at last she -fell, the pile of weeds saved her from any hurt. - -We called the game _eetseepadahpakee_,[7] or foot-moving, from the -player’s habit of wriggling her feet when in the air. We thought this -wriggling, or foot moving, a mark of skill. - - [7] ēēt sēē pä däh´ pä kēē - -But, if my mothers let me play much of the time, they did not forget to -teach me good morals. “We are a family that has not a bad woman in it,” -they used to say. “You must try hard not to be naughty.” - -My grandfather Big Cloud often talked to me. “My granddaughter,” he -would say, “try to be good, so that you will grow up to be a good -woman. Do not quarrel nor steal. Do not answer anyone with bad words. -Obey your parents, and remember all that I say.” - -[Illustration] - -When I was naughty my mothers usually scolded me; for they were kind -women and did not like to have me punished. Sometimes they scared me -into being good, by saying, “The owl will get you.” This saying had to -do with an old custom that I will explain. - -Until I was about nine years old, my hair was cut short, with a tuft on -either side of my head, like the horns of an owl. Turtle used to cut my -hair. She used a big, steel knife. In old times, I have heard, a thin -blade of flint was used. I did not like Turtle’s hair cutting a bit, -because she _pulled_. - -“Why do you cut my hair, grandmother?” I asked. - -“It is our custom,” Turtle answered. “I will tell you the story.” - -“Thousands and thousands of years ago, there lived a great owl. He was -strong and had magic power, but he was a bad bird. When the hunters -killed buffaloes, the owl would turn all the meat bitter, so that the -Indians could not eat it, and so they were always hungry. - -“On this earth then lived a young man called the Sun’s Child; for the -sun was his father. He heard how the Indians were made hungry, and came -to help them. - -“The owl lived in a hollow tree that had a hole high up in its trunk. -The Sun’s Child climbed the tree, and when the owl put his head out of -the hole, he caught the bird by the neck. - -“‘Do not let the Sun’s Child kill me!’ the owl cried to the Indians. ‘I -have been a bad bird; now I will be good and I will help your children. - -“‘As soon as a child is old enough to understand you when you speak to -him, cut his hair with two tufts like my own. Do this to make him look -like an owl; and I will remember and make the child grow up strong and -healthy. If a child weeps or will not obey, say to him, “The owl will -get you!” This will frighten him, so that he will obey you.’” - -[Illustration: Plate I.—Offering food before the shrine of the Big -Birds’ ceremony] - -It was thus my mothers frightened me when I was naughty. Red Blossom -would call, “O owl, I have a bad daughter. Come.” - -“I will be good, I will be good!” I would cry, as I ran to my father. I -knew he would not let the owl hurt me. - -My old grandfather, Missouri River, taught me of the gods. He was a -medicine man and very holy, and I was rather afraid of him. He used -to sit on the bench behind the fire, to smoke. He had a long pipe, of -polished black stone. He liked best to smoke dried tobacco blossoms -which he first oiled with buffalo fat. - -[Illustration] - -One day, as he sat smoking, I asked him, “Grandfather, who are the -gods?” - -Missouri River took a long pull at his pipe, blew the smoke from his -nostrils, and put the stem from his mouth. “Little granddaughter,” he -answered, “this earth is alive and has a soul or spirit, just as you -have a spirit. Other things also have spirits, the sun, clouds, trees, -beasts, birds. These spirits are our gods. We pray to them and offer -them food, that they may help us when we have need.” - -“Do the spirits eat the food?” I asked. I had seen my grandfather set -food before the two skulls of the Big Birds’ ceremony. - -“No,” said my grandfather, “They eat the food’s spirit; for the food -has a spirit as have all things. When the gods have eaten of its -spirit, we often take back the food to eat ourselves.” - -“How do we know there are gods, grandfather?” I asked. - -“They appear to us in our dreams. That is why the medicine man fasts -and cuts his flesh with knives. If he fasts long, he will fall in a -vision. In this vision the gods will come and talk with him.” - -“What are the gods like?” I asked. - -“Like beings that live on this earth. Some are as men. Others are as -birds, or beasts, or even plants and other things. Not all the gods are -good. Some seek to harm us. The good gods send us buffaloes, and rain -to make our corn grow.” - -“Do they send us thunder?” I asked. There had been a heavy storm the -day before. - -“The thunder bird god sends us thunder,” said my grandfather. “He is -like a great swallow, with wings that spread out like clouds. Lightning -is the flash of his eyes. His scream makes the thunder. - -“Once in Five Villages,” my grandfather went on, “there lived a brave -man who owned a gun. One day a storm blew up. As the man sat in his -lodge, there came a clap of thunder and lightning struck his roof, -tearing a great hole. - -“This did not frighten the man at all. Indeed, it angered him. He -caught up his gun and fired it through the hole straight into the sky. -‘You thunder bird,’ he shouted, ‘stay away from my lodge. See this gun. -If you come, I will shoot at you again!’” - -My grandfather paused to fill his pipe. “That was a brave man,” he said -as he reached for a coal. “Perhaps the thunder bird loves brave men, -and did not harm him. But it is not well to provoke the gods. My little -granddaughter should never laugh at them nor speak of them lightly.” - -My grandfather spoke very solemnly. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - SEVENTH CHAPTER - - KINSHIP, CLAN COUSINS - - -We Hidatsas do not reckon our kin as white men do. If a white man -marries, his wife is called by his name; and his children also, as -Tom Smith, Mary Smith. We Indians had no family names. Every Hidatsa -belonged to a clan; but a child, when he was born, became a member of -his mother’s, not his father’s clan. - -An Indian calls all members of his clan his brothers and sisters. The -men of his father’s clan he calls his clan fathers; and the women, his -clan aunts. Thus I was born a member of the _Tsistska_[8], or Prairie -Chicken clan, because my mother was a _Tsistska_. My father was a -member of the _Meedeepahdee_,[9] or Rising Water clan. Members of the -_Tsistska_ clan are my brothers and sisters; but my father’s clan -brothers, men of the _Meedeepahdee_, are my clan fathers, and his clan -sisters are my clan aunts. - - [8] Tsïst´ skä - - [9] Mēē dēē päh´ dēē - -These relations meant much to us Indians. Members of a clan were bound -to help one another in need, and thought the gods would punish them if -they did not. Thus, if my mother was in need, members of the _Tsistska_ -clan helped her. If she was hungry, they gave her food. If her child -was naughty, my mother called in a _Meedeepahdee_ to punish him, a clan -father, if the child was a boy; if a girl, a clan aunt; for parents did -not punish their own children. Again, when my father died, his clan -fathers and clan aunts it was, who bore him to the burial scaffold and -prayed his ghost not to come back to trouble the villagers. - -Another clan relative is _makutsatee_,[10] or clan cousin. I reckon -as my clan cousins all members of my tribe whose fathers are my -clan fathers. Thus, my mother, I have said, was a Prairie Chicken; -my father, a member of the _Meedeepahdee_, or Rising Water, clan. -Another woman, of what clan does not matter, is also married to a -_Meedeepahdee_; her children will be my clan cousins, because their -father, being a _Meedeepahdee_, is my clan father. - - [10] mä kṳt´ sä tēē - -Clan cousins had a custom that will seem strange to white people. We -Indians are proud, and it makes our hearts sore if others make mock -of us. In olden times if a man said to his friend, even in jest, “You -are like a dog,” his friend would draw his knife to fight. I think we -Indians are more careful of our words than white men are. - -[Illustration] - -But it is never good for a man not to know his faults, and so we let -one’s clan cousins tease him for any fault he had. Especially was -this teasing common between young men and young women. Thus a young -man might be unlucky in war. As he passed the fields where the village -women hoed their corn, he would hear some mischievous girl, his clan -cousin, singing a song taunting him for his ill success. Were any one -else to do this, the young man would be ready to fight; but, seeing -that the singer was his clan cousin, he would laugh and call out, “Sing -louder cousin, sing louder, that I may hear you.” - -I can best explain this custom by telling you a story: - - - Story of Snake Head-Ornament - -A long time ago, in one of our villages at Knife river, lived a man -named _Mapuksaokihe_,[11] or Snake Head-Ornament. He was a great -medicine man. In a hole in the floor of his earth lodge, there lived a -bull snake. Snake Head-Ornament called the bull snake “father.” - - [11] Mä pṳk´ sä ō kēē hĕ - -When Snake Head-Ornament was invited to a feast, he would paint his -face, wrap himself in his best robe and say, “Come, father; let us go -and get something to eat.” - -The bull snake would creep from his hole, crawl up the man’s body and -coil about his neck, thrusting his head over the man’s forehead; or he -would coil about the man’s head like the headcloth of a hunter, with -his head thrust forward, as I have said. - -Bearing the snake thus on his head, Snake Head-Ornament would enter the -lodge where the feast was held and sit down to eat. The snake, however, -did not eat of the food that Snake Head-Ornament ate. The snake’s food -was scrapings of buffalo hides that the women of the lodge fed him. - -When Snake Head-Ornament came home, he would say to the bull snake, -“Father, get off.” And the snake would crawl down the man’s body and -into his den again. - -Snake Head-Ornament fasted and had a vision. In the vision his gods, he -thought, bade him go to war. He made up a war party and led it against -enemies on the Yellowstone river. The party not only killed no enemies, -but lost three of their own men; and they thought Snake Head-Ornament -was to blame for it. “You said your prayers were strong,” they said; -“and we have lost three men! Your gods have not helped us.” - -Snake Head-Ornament thought his gods were angry with him; and when he -came home he went about crying and mourning and calling upon his gods -to give him another vision. “Pity me, gods,” he cried, “make me strong -that I may bring home scalps and horses.” He was a brave man, and his -bad fortune made his heart sore. - -[Illustration] - -In those days, when a man mourned he cut off his hair, painted his body -with white clay, and threw away his moccasins. He also cut his flesh -with a knife or some sharp weapon. Now when a man sought a vision from -the gods, he wept and mourned, that the gods might have pity on him; -and for this he went away from the village, alone, into the hills. So -it happened, that Snake Head-Ornament, on his way to the hills, went -mourning and crying past a field where sat a woman, his clan cousin, on -her watch-stage. Seeing him, she began a song to tease him: - - He said, “I am a young bird!” - If a young bird, he should be in his nest; - But he comes here looking gray, - And wanders about outside the village! - - He said, “I am a young snake!” - If a young snake, he should be in the hills among the red buttes; - But he comes here looking gray and crying, - And wanders aimlessly about! - -When the woman sang, “He comes here looking gray,” she meant that the -man was gray from the white-clay paint on his body. - -Snake Head-Ornament heard her song; but, knowing she was his clan -sister, he cried out to her: “Sing louder, cousin! You are right; let -my ‘fathers’ hear what you say. I do not know if they will feel shame -or not, but the bull snake and the bald eagle both called me ‘son’!” - -What he meant was that the bull snake and the bald eagle were his dream -gods. That is, they had appeared to him in a dream, and promised to -help him as they would a son, when he went to war. In her song, the -woman taunted him with this. If she had not been his clan cousin, he -would have been beside himself with anger. As it was, he but laughed -and did not hurt her. - -But the woman had cause for singing her song. Years before, when Snake -Head-Ornament was a very young man, he went out with a war party and -killed a Sioux woman. When he came home the people called him brave, -and made much of him; and he grew quite puffed up now that all looked -up to him. - -Not long after, he was made a member of the Black Mouth society. -It happened one day, that the women were building a fence of logs, -set upright around the village, to defend it from enemies. Snake -Head-Ornament, as a member of the Black Mouths, was one of the men -overseeing the work. This woman, his clan cousin, was slow at her task; -and, to make her move more briskly, Snake Head-Ornament came close to -her and fired off his gun just past her knees. She screamed, but seeing -it was Snake Head-Ornament who had shot, and knowing he was her clan -cousin, she did not get angry. Nevertheless, she did not forget! And, -years after, she had revenge in her taunting song. - - • • • • • - -Young men going out with a war party had to take much chaffing from -older warriors who were clan cousins. My brother was once out with a -party of fifty, many of them young men. They were fleeing from a big -camp of Sioux and had ridden for two days. The second night one of the -younger men, a mere lad, fell asleep as he rode his pony. An older -warrior, his clan cousin, fired a gun past the lad’s ear. “Young man,” -he cried, “you sleep so soundly that only thunder can waken you!” The -rest of the party thought the warrior’s words a huge joke. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - EIGHTH CHAPTER - - INDIAN DOGS - - -In old times we Indian people had no horses, and not many families of -my tribe owned them when I was a little girl. But I do not think there -ever was a time when we Hidatsas did not own dogs. We trained them to -draw our tent poles and our loaded travois. We never used dogs to chase -deer, as white men do. - -Our Hidatsa dogs—the breed we owned when I was a little girl—had broad -faces, with gentle, knowing eyes; erect, pointed ears; and tails -curling, never trailing like a wolf’s tail. They had soft silky hair, -gray, black, or spotted red or white. All had stout, heavy legs. I -think this sturdiness was because we saved only dogs of stout build to -drag our travois. - -The Teton Sioux, who lived south of us, owned dogs like ours, but of -slenderer build and legs. They liked these dogs, I think, because they -were speedier; for the Sioux were hunters, always moving from place to -place. - -Almost every family in Like-a-Fishhook village owned two or more dogs; -and, as there were about seventy lodges in the village, our dogs made -a large pack. The dogs knew every man and child in the village, and -being, besides, well trained, seldom bit anyone. But they were quick to -wind a stranger. A visitor from another tribe was sure to be beset by a -troop of dogs, growling and barking at his heels. - -The dogs had one habit I liked. Every evening about bedtime—and bedtime -for a little Indian girl was early—some dog was sure to start up, -_wu-wu-wu!_ And all the others would join in, even the little puppies. -I used to lie in my bed and listen to them. - -About midnight, the barking would start up again, especially if there -was a moon, and again a little before daylight; but I was usually -asleep at these hours. - -[Illustration] - -In daytime lookouts were always on the roofs of some of the lodges -watching if enemies or buffaloes were about. If they saw our hunters, -with meat, coming home over the prairie, these lookouts would cry out, -“_Hey-da-ey!_”[12] And the dogs, knowing what the cry meant, would -join in with “_wu-u-u-u_.”[13] They liked fresh buffalo meat no less -than the Indians. - - [12] He̱y dä e̱y´ - - [13] Wṳ-ṳ-ṳ - -But the greatest excitement was when enemies were seen. The lookouts -then cried, “_Ahahuts[14]—they come against us!_” Warriors, on hearing -the cry, seized weapons and ran out of their lodges, yelling shrilly. -The chiefs sprang for their ponies, twisting lariats into the ponies’ -mouths for bridles. Medicine men chanted holy songs, and women ran -about calling to their children. But above all rose the barking of the -dogs, every beast joining in the hubbub. - - [14] A hä hṳts´ - -One day, after the midday meal—I think I was then eight years old—old -Turtle went down to the river and fetched an armful of dry willows. -They were about four feet long and as thick as a child’s wrist; some -were forked at the top. She set them in a circle, with tops together -like a tepee, at one side of the lodge entrance near the place where -the dogs slept. - -“What are you doing, grandmother?” I asked. - -Turtle did not answer my question. “I want to get some dry grass,” she -said. “Come and help me.” - -We went out to a place in the hills where was some long, dead grass. -Turtle pulled a big armful, piling it on her robe which she spread on -the ground. She drew the corners of the robe together, slung the bundle -over her shoulder and we came back to the village. - -She laid the grass thickly over the sides of the little tepee, leaning -chunks of wood against it to keep the grass in place. She left a door, -or opening, in front; and she even bound a stick over the door, like -the pole over the door of a hunting lodge. Last, she put grass inside, -as if for a bed. - -[Illustration] - -“Grandmother, what _are_ you doing?” I begged; but she led me into the -lodge, telling me nothing. - -I was awakened early the next morning by dogs barking on the roof. As I -lay listening, I thought I heard a faint whining outside. It seemed to -come from the place where the little grass tepee stood. - -I fell asleep, and awoke a second time to see Red Blossom fanning the -fire with a goose wing. Breakfast was soon ready, of fresh boiled -buffalo meat. The hunters had come in only the night before, and they -had brought a fresh side-and-ribs for a present to my father. - -After the meal I saw Turtle gather up the scraps of meat into a wooden -bowl. “Come,” she said, leading me out of the lodge. - -She stopped before the tepee, and thrust the bowl of scraps within. -Again I heard the faint whining. I dropped to my knees and looked in. -There I saw our best dog, the pet of us all; and beside her lay four -little puppies. - -“_Eh, sukkeets!_”[15] I cried, “Oh, good!” And I drew the puppies out -one by one, to cuddle them. The mother dog whined, and raised her eyes -to me. She was a gentle dog and did not snap at my hand. - - [15] sŭk´ kēēts - -[Illustration] - -I do not know whether I or the puppies’ mother cuddled them more, the -next few days. One puppy I came to love dearly. He was a wriggling -little thing, with a bob tail for all the world like a rabbit’s, -except that it hung down. There were ten or more bobtailed dogs in -the village all of them born so. My puppy was black, so I named him -_Sheepeesha_,[16] or Blackie. - - [16] Shēē´ pēē shä - -It must have been a funny sight to see me take my puppy out for a walk. -Stooping, I would lay the puppy between my shoulders and draw my tiny -robe up over his back; and I would walk off proud as any Indian mother -of her new babe. The old mother dog would creep half out of her kennel, -following me with her gentle eyes. I was careful not to go out of her -sight. - -When the puppies were ten days old my grandmother brought in some fresh -sage, the kind we Indians use in a sweat lodge. She laid the sage by -the fireplace and fetched in the puppies, barring the door so that -the mother dog could not come in. I could hear the poor dog whining -pitifully. - -“What are you going to do, grandmother?” I asked. - -“I am going to smoke the puppies.” - -“Why, grandmother?” I cried. - -“Because the puppies are old enough to eat cooked meat, for their -teeth have come through. The sage is a sacred plant. Its smoke will -make the puppies hungry, so that they will eat.” - -While she was speaking, she opened my little pet’s jaws. Sure enough, -four white teeth were coming through the gums. - -Turtle raked some coals from the ashes, and laid on them a handful of -the sage. A column of thick white smoke arose upward to the smoke hole. - -My grandmother took my puppy in her hands and held his head in the -smoke. The poor puppy struggled and choked. Thick spittle, like suds, -came out of his mouth. I was frightened, and thought he was going to -die. - -“The smoke will make the puppy healthy,” said Turtle. “Now let us see -if he will grow up strong, to carry my little granddaughter’s tent.” - -She lifted the puppy, still choking, from the floor, and let him fall -so that he landed on his feet. The puppy was still young and weak, and -he was strangling; but his little legs stiffened, and he stood without -falling. - -“Hey, hey,” laughed my grandmother. “This is a strong dog! He will grow -up to carry your tent.” For in old times, when traveling, we Hidatsas -made our dogs drag our tents on poles, like travois. - -Turtle tried the other three puppies. One, not as strong as the -rest, fell on his side. “This dog will not grow up strong,” said my -grandmother. “I will give him to my neighbor, who asks for one.” - -She now lifted a clay pot out of the ashes, and from it poured -something into a flat bowl; corn mush, I think it was, boiled with -buffalo fats. She set the bowl before the puppies. They quickly lapped -up the mush, with funny red tongues. My little black puppy even gulped -down a lump of fat. - -[Illustration] - -Turtle laughed. “I told you your puppy is strong,” she cried. “He will -soon grow up to carry your tent. But to grow, our puppies must be fed. -It will be your work to feed them. See they do not starve.” - -But, if I had to feed the puppies, my grandmother also helped. Indeed, -the whole family watched to see that they had enough. If fresh meat -was brought in, we always boiled some and gave to the puppies. We did -not give them raw meat. “It is not good for puppies. It will make them -sick,” said Turtle. - -But, as the puppies grew up, we began to feed them raw meat. My -grandmother sometimes boiled corn for them, into a coarse mush. They -were fond of this. As they grew older, any food that turned sour or was -unfit for the family to eat was given me for my doggies. They ate it -greedily. It did not seem to harm them. - -Sometimes a deer or elk was killed, that was poor in flesh. Such a -carcass was cut up and given to the dogs of the village, and of course -mine got their share. - -When several buffaloes were killed, the hunters often could not carry -all the meat home, and took only the best cuts. The next day any one -who wanted, could go out and take the cast-away pieces for her dogs. -Then, there were parts that we always threw away or gave to the dogs. -The tough, outside meat of a buffalo’s hams we cut off and saved for -the dogs. The inside meat, next the bone, we thought our very best. -Hunters were fond of roasting it before the fire, on two stones. - -Even in famine times we did not forget our dogs; but we sometimes had -only soft bones to give them that had been broken for boiling. The dogs -gnawed these, and so got a little food. - -We Hidatsas loved our good dogs, and were kind to them. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - NINTH CHAPTER - - TRAINING A DOG - - -Autumn twice came around, and my puppy had grown into a romping dog. -In the moon of Yellow Leaves, my tribe went again into winter camp. We -returned to Like-a-Fishhook village rather early in the spring. Patches -of snow lay on the ground, and the ice was still firm on the Missouri -when we crossed. We reached the village in midafternoon. - -My father had two pack horses loaded with our stuff and our dogs -dragged well-laden travois. While my mothers were unpacking, my father -made a fire. He drew his flint and steel, and with a bit of soft, -rotten wood for tinder struck a spark. In olden times the Hidatsas made -fire with two sticks. “I saw very old men make fire thus, when I was a -lad,” my grandfather once told me. I never saw it done myself. - -Small Ankle wrapped the spark, caught in the tinder, in a little bunch -of dry grass, and waved it in the air until the grass was ablaze. He -had raked together some bits of charcoal in the fireplace and on them -laid a few dry-wood splinters. To these he held the burning grass and -soon had a fire. - -There was a little firewood in the lodge, left from the previous -autumn, but not enough to keep the fire going long. As my mothers were -still unpacking, my father offered to go out and get wood for the -night. Getting wood, we thought, was woman’s work; but my father was a -kind man, willing to help his wives. - -From the saddle of one of his horses Small Ankle took a rawhide lariat, -and to one end fastened a short stick. There were some cottonwoods -under the river bank, not far from the village. Into one of the largest -trees Small Ankle threw his lariat until the stick caught in some dead -branches overhead. A sharp pull broke off the branches. My father -gathered them up and bore them to the lodge. - -There were logs and dead wood lying along the river, but they were wet -with the snows. My father knew the dead branches in the trees would be -dried by the winds. He wanted dry wood to kindle a quick fire. - -The next morning after we had eaten, Red Blossom took her ax, and, -dragging a travois from its place against the fire screen, led the way -out of the lodge. Strikes-Many Woman followed her. Our biggest dog, -lying outside, saw them coming. He got up, shaking himself, wagging -his tail, and barking _wu-wu-wu!_ Our dogs were always ready to be -harnessed. They liked to go to the woods, knowing they would be fed -well afterwards. - -This, our best dog, was named _Akeekahee_,[17] or Took-from-Him. He -belonged to Red Blossom. A woman owning a dog would ask some brave -man of her family to name him for her; and Red Blossom had asked my -grandfather, Big Cloud, to name her dog. Once an enemy had stolen his -horse, but Big Cloud gave chase and retook his horse from that bad -enemy. For this, he named the dog Took-from-Him. - - [17] Ȧ kēē´ kä hēē - -[Illustration] - -My mothers harnessed their dogs, four in number and started off. They -returned a little after midday; first, Red Blossom, with a great pack -of wood on her back; after her, Strikes-Many Woman; then the four dogs, -marching one behind the other, Took-from-Him in the lead. Each dog -dragged a travois loaded with wood. - -My mothers dropped their loads before the lodge entrance. The dogs -were unhitched; and, while old Turtle fed them, Strikes-Many Woman -carried the wood into the lodge and piled it by the corral, where it -was handy to the fire. - -I was eager to have my dog broken to harness and begged my grandmother -to make a travois for him. “I will,” she said, “but wait another moon. -Your dog will then be fed fat, after the long winter. A dog should be -two years old, and strong, when he is broken. To work a dog too young -or when he is weak will hurt his back.” - -A month after this, my mothers came home one afternoon from -woodgathering, dragging each a cottonwood pole about eight feet long. -They peeled these poles bare of bark, and laid them up on the corn -stage to dry. - -“What are the poles for?” I asked. - -“They are for your travois,” said my grandmother. “Your dog -_Sheepeesha_ is now old enough to work; and my little granddaughter, -too, must learn to be useful.” - -I was ready to cry out and dance, when I heard these words of my -grandmother; and I thought I could never, never wait until those poles -dried. The heavy ladder we used for mounting the stage lay on the -ground when not in use. I was too little to lift it, to climb up to the -poles; but I went every day to stand below and gaze at them longingly. - -One afternoon my grandmother fetched the poles into the lodge. “They -are dry now,” she said. “I will make the travois frame.” - -With her big knife she hacked the greater ends of the poles flat, so -that they would run smooth on the ground. The small ends she crossed -for the joint, cutting a notch in each to make them fit. She bound the -joint with strips of the big tendon in a buffalo’s neck that we Indians -call the _eetsuta_[18]. These strips drew taut as they dried, making -the joint firm. - - [18] ēēt sṳ´ tä - -Turtle now drew a saddle, or cushion, over the poles just under the -joint, sewing it down with buckskin thongs. This saddle was to keep the -dog from fretting his shoulders against the poles. - -The hoop for the basket was of ash. My father webbed it. He cut a -long, thin thong from the edges of a hide, and soaked it to make it -soft. Taking some wet paint in his palm, he drew the thong through it, -thus painting it a bright red. He laced the thong over the hoop and my -grandmother bound the basket in place. - -[Illustration] - -The harness was of two pieces: a collar, to go around the dog’s -neck; and a breast thong, that was drawn across his chest and through a -loop in the saddle, was lapped once or twice around one of the travois -poles, and was finally carried under the dog’s body to the other pole, -where it was made fast. - -I could hardly wait to eat my breakfast the next morning, for my -mothers had promised to take me with them to gather wood. “And we are -going to begin training your dog to-day,” they told me. - -I knew a dog should be fed before he was harnessed, and I saved half my -breakfast meat to give to mine. Owning a dog, and invited to go with -my mothers to get wood, I felt that in spite of my girlish years I was -almost a woman now. - -Breakfast ended, Red Blossom fetched the new travois and laid it on -my dog’s back. He looked up, puzzled, then sank to the ground and lay -wagging his tail from side to side, sweeping a clean place in the dust. -Red Blossom bound the collar about his neck, and drew and fastened the -breast thong. While she was doing this I gently patted my dog’s head. - -“_Nah!_” said Red Blossom, “Come!” But my doggie was a bit frightened. -He twisted about, trying to rid himself of the travois, but only hurt -himself. He looked up at me and whined. Red Blossom tied a thong to -his collar and put the end in my hand. “Lead him,” she said. “He will -follow the other dogs.” She led off, Strikes-Many Woman behind her, and -the dogs followed after, in a line. - -I tugged at my dog’s thong, pursing my lips and making a whistling -sound, as Indians do. My doggie understood. He rose to his feet, and, -seeing the other dogs moving off, followed after the last one. - -We thus came to the woods, about a mile and a half from the village. -The dogs sank in their tracks, to rest. My mothers searched about for -dead-and-dry wood, which they cut into lengths of two feet or more, and -piled them in the path near the dogs. - -When they had enough wood cut, my mothers lifted each travois by its -basket, and turned it so that the dog’s nose was pointed toward the -village; and they loaded each travois with a double armful of wood, -bound to the basket with two thongs. My two mothers then lifted each a -load to her own back, and started to the village. - -I did not carry any load myself, as my shoulders were not strong enough -for such heavy work; but I led my dog. Not a very big load was put on -him, as it was his first. I called to him, tugging gently at the thong. -Seeing the other dogs ahead, he followed willingly. - -Old Turtle awaited us at the door. “Grandmother,” I cried joyfully, -“my dog has brought home a load of wood. He did not try to run away.” -Turtle laughed, and helped me unload. - -That evening I was sitting by the fire with my good dog, for Red -Blossom had let me bring him into the lodge. Now and then I slipped him -a bit of meat I had saved from my supper. My father had laid some dry -sticks on the fire, and the blaze flickered and rose, flickered and -rose, making post and rafter yellow with its light. Small Ankle sat on -his couch smoking his pipe. Suddenly I heard the clitter of the hollow -hoofs as the lodge door was raised and let fall again. I looked up. -Coyote Eyes, a Ree Indian, was coming around the screen. - -“_Hau!_”[19] cried my father, making a place for him on the couch. -Small Ankle was a polite man. He handed his pipe to the Ree, who took -big pulls, blowing the smoke through his nostrils. - - [19] Hau (How) - -Coyote Eyes gave the pipe back to my father. “That is a fine dog you -have,” he said to me. “I know a story of my tribe about two dogs.” - -Being but a little girl, I did not think it proper for me to talk to a -stranger, but my father answered for me, “What is the story?” - -“In the beginning, my tribe came out of a cave in the earth,” said -Coyote Eyes. “They journeyed until they came to the Missouri river. -‘Let us go up this river,’ they said, ‘and find a place to build our -villages.’ They were weary of journeying. - -[Illustration] - -“They had two dogs in the camp. One was black; his name was Death. The -other was white, and her name was Sickness. These dogs were asleep when -the tribe broke camp the next morning. The people were in such haste to -be off that they forgot to waken the dogs. - -“The third day after, they saw two great fires sweeping toward them -over the prairie. The women cried out with fear. All thought that they -should die. - -“When the fires came near, the people saw that they were the two dogs, -Death and Sickness. - -“‘Do not fear,’ said the dogs. ‘Our hearts are not all evil. True, we -will bite you, because you forgot us; but we will also live with you -and be your friends. We will carry your burdens; and when we die, you -shall eat us.’ - -“The dogs grew old. The white one died, and her skin became the squash. -Now our squashes are of different colors, white, gray, yellow, spotted, -just as are dogs. These squashes we eat. Also we Rees eat dog meat; -for, before he died, the black dog said, ‘You shall eat my flesh.’ - -“And to this day, when our Ree people sicken and die, they say, ‘We are -bitten by Sickness and Death.’” - -My father smiled. “We Hidatsas do not eat dogs,” he said; and then to -me, “Little daughter, it is bedtime.” - -I did not always obey my mothers; for, like all little girls, I was -naughty sometimes, but I dared not disobey my father. - -I put my dog out of the lodge, and went to bed. - - - - -[Illustration] - - TENTH CHAPTER - - LEARNING TO WORK - - -My mothers began to teach me household tasks when I was about twelve -years old. “You are getting to be a big girl,” they said. “Soon you -will be a woman, and marry. Unless you learn to work, how will you feed -your family?” - -One of the things given me to do was fetching water from the river. No -spring was near our village; and, anyhow, our prairie springs are often -bitter with alkali. But the Missouri river, fed by melting snows of -the Montana mountains, gave us plenty of fresh water. Missouri river -water is muddy; but it soon settles, and is cool and sweet to drink. We -Indians love our big river, and we are glad to drink of its waters, as -drank our fathers. - -A steep path led down the bank to the watering place. Down this path, -the village girls made their way every morning to get water for -drinking and cooking. They went in little groups or in pairs. Two -girls, cousins or chums, sometimes swung a freshly filled pail from a -pole on their shoulders. - -[Illustration] - -But there were few pails of metal in my tribe, when I was a -little girl. I used to fetch water in a clay pot, sometimes in a -buffalo-paunch lining skewered on a stick; but my commonest bucket was -of a buffalo heart skin. When my father killed a buffalo, he took out -the heart skin, and filled it with grass until it dried. This he gave -to Red Blossom, who sewed a little stick on each side of the mouth; and -bound a short stick and sinews between them for handle. Such a bucket -held about three pints. It was a frail looking vessel, but lasted a -long time. - -We girls liked to go to the watering place; for, while we were filling -our buckets, we could gossip with our friends. For older girls and -young men it was a place for courtship. A youth, with painted face and -trailing hair switch, would loiter near the path, and smile slyly at -his sweetheart as she passed. She did not always smile back. Sometimes -for long weeks, she held her eyes away, not even glancing at his -moccasins. It was a shy smile that she gave him, at last. Nor did she -talk with her love-boy—as we called him—when others were about. We -should have thought that silly. But he might wait for her at sunset, by -her father’s lodge, and talk with her in the twilight. - -But I had other tasks besides fetching water. I learned to cook, -sweep, and sew with awl and sinew. Red Blossom taught me to embroider -with quills of gull and porcupine, dyed in colors. Sometimes I helped -at harder work; gathered drift wood at the river, dressed or scraped -hides, and even helped in our cornfield. - -I liked to go with my mothers to the cornfields in planting time, when -the spring sun was shining and the birds singing in the tree tops. How -good it seemed to be out under the open sky, after the long months in -our winter camp! A cottonwood tree stood at a turn of the road to our -field. Every season a pair of magpies built their nest in it. They were -saucy birds and scolded us roundly when we passed. How I used to laugh -at their wicked scoldings! - -I am afraid I did not help my mothers much. Like any young girl, I -liked better to watch the birds than to work. Sometimes I chased away -the crows. Our corn indeed had many enemies, and we had to watch that -they did not get our crop. Magpies and crows destroyed much of the -young corn. Crows were fond of pulling up the plants when they were -a half inch or an inch high. Spotted gophers dug up the roots of the -young corn, to nibble the soft seed. - -When our field was all planted, Red Blossom used to go back and replant -any hills that the birds had destroyed. Where she found a plant -missing, she dug a little hole with her hand and dropped in a seed, or -I dropped it in for her. - -It was hard work, stooping to plant in the hot sun, and Red Blossom -never liked having to go over the field a second time. “Those bad -crows,” she would groan, “they make us much trouble.” - -[Illustration] - -My grandmother Turtle made scarecrows to frighten away the birds. In -the middle of the field she drove two sticks for legs, and bound two -other sticks to them for arms; on the top, she fastened a ball of -cast-away skins for a head. She belted an old robe about the figure to -make it look like a man. Such a scarecrow looked wicked! Indeed I was -almost afraid of it myself. But the bad crows, seeing the scarecrow -never moved from its place, soon lost their fear, and came back. - -In the months of midsummer, the crows did not give us much trouble; -but, as the moon of Cherries drew near, they became worse than ever. -The corn had now begun to ear, and crows and blackbirds came in flocks -to peck open the green ears for the soft kernels. Many families now -built stages in their fields, where the girls and young women of the -household came to sit and sing as they watched that crows and other -thieves did not steal the ripening grain. - -We cared for our corn in those days, as we would care for a child; for -we Indian people loved our fields as mothers love their children. We -thought that the corn plants had souls, as children have souls, and -that the growing corn liked to hear us sing, as children like to hear -their mothers sing to them. Nor did we want the birds to come and steal -our corn, after the hard work of planting and hoeing. Horses, too, -might break into the field, or boys might steal the green ears and go -off and roast them. - -A watchers’ stage was not hard to build. Four posts, forked at the -tops, upheld beams, on which was laid a floor of puncheons, or split -small logs, at the height of the full grown corn. The floor was about -four feet long by three wide, roomy enough for two girls to sit -together comfortably. Often a soft robe was spread on the floor. A -ladder made of the trunk of a tree rested against the stage. The ladder -had three steps. - -A tree was often left standing in the field, to shade the watchers’ -stage. If the tree was small and more shade was wanted, a robe was -stretched over three poles leaned against the stage. These poles could -be shifted with the sun. - -Girls began to go on the watchers’ stage when about ten or twelve -years of age, and many kept up the custom after they were grown up and -married. Older women, working in the field and stopping to rest, often -went on the stage and sang. - -[Illustration] - -There was a watchers’ stage in my mothers’ field, where my sister, Cold -Medicine, and I sat and sang; and in the two weeks of the ripening -season we were singing most of the time. We looked upon watching our -field as a kind of lark. We liked to sing, and now and then between -songs we stood up to see if horses had broken into the field or if -any boys were about. Boys of nine or ten years of age were quite -troublesome. They liked to steal the green ears to roast by a fire in -the woods. - -I think Cold Medicine and I were rather glad to catch a boy stealing -our corn, especially if he was a clan cousin, for then we could call -him all the bad names we wished. “You bad, bad boy,” we would cry. “You -thief,—stealing from your own relatives! _Nah, nah_,—go away.” This was -enough; no boy stayed after such a scolding. - -Most of the songs we sang were love-boy songs, as we called them; but -not all were. One that we younger girls were fond of singing—girls, -that is, of about twelve years of age—was like this: - - You bad boys, you are all alike! - Your bow is like a bent basket hoop; - Your arrows are fit only to shoot into the air; - You poor boys, you must run on the prairie barefoot, because you - have no moccasins! - -This song we sang to tease the boys who came to hunt birds in the -near-by woods. Small boys went bird hunting nearly every day. The birds -that a boy snared or shot he gave to his grandparents to roast in the -lodge fire; for, with their well-worn teeth, old people could no longer -chew our hard, dried buffalo meat. - -Here is another song; but, that you may understand it, I will explain -to you what _eekupa_[20] means. A girl loved by another girl as her -own sister was called her _eekupa_. I think your word “chum,” as you -explain it, has nearly the same meaning. This is the song: - - “My _eekupa_, what do you wish to see?” you said to me. - What I wish to see is the corn silk peeping out of the growing ear; - But what _you_ wish to see is that naughty young man coming! - - [20] ēē´ kṳ pä - -Here is a song that older girls sang to tease young men of the Dog -Society who happened to be going by: - - You young man of the Dog Society, you said to me, - “When I go east with a war party, you will hear news of me how - brave I am!” - I have heard news of you; - When the fight was on, you ran and hid; - And you still think you are a brave young man! - Behold, you have joined the Dog Society; - But I call you just plain _dog_! - -Songs that we sang on the watchers’ stage we called _meedaheeka_,[21] -or gardeners’ songs. I have said that many of them were love-boy -songs, and were intended to tease. We called a girl’s sweetheart her -love-boy. All girls, we know, like to tease their sweethearts. - - [21] mēē dä´ hēē kä - -[Illustration] - -At one side of our field Turtle had made a booth, diamond willows -thrust in the ground in a circle, with leafy tops bent over and tied -together. In this booth, my sister and I, with our mothers and old -Turtle, cooked our meals. We started a fire in the booth as soon as we -got to the field, and ate our breakfast often at sunrise. Our food we -had brought with us, usually buffalo meat, fresh or dried. Fresh meat -we laid on the coals to broil. Dried meat we thrust on a stick and held -over the fire to toast. - -Sometimes we brought a clay cooking pot, and boiled squashes. We were -fond of squashes and ate many of them. We sometimes boiled green corn -and beans. My sister and I shelled the corn from the cob. We shelled -the beans or boiled them in the pod. My grandmother poured the mess in -a wooden bowl, and we ate with spoons which she made from squash stems. -She would split a stem with her knife and put in a little stick to hold -the split open. - -I do not think anything can taste sweeter than a mess of fresh corn and -beans, in the cool morning air, when the birds are twittering and the -sun is just peeping over the tree tops. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - ELEVENTH CHAPTER - - PICKING JUNE BERRIES - - -June berry time had come. I was now fourteen years, old and had begun -to think myself almost a young woman. Some of the young men even smiled -at me as I came up from the watering place. I never smiled back, for -I thought: “My father is a chief, and I belong to one of the best -families in my tribe. I will be careful whom I choose to be my friends.” - -A little north of my father’s, stood the earth lodge of Bear Man’s -family. Bear Man was an eagle hunter. He had magic snares of sacred -hemp plant which he tossed into the air as he prayed to the eagle -spirits. After doing so he was sure to catch many young golden eagles -at his eagle pit. We thought him a great medicine man. - -Bear Man had a son named Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing, a straight-limbed, -rather good-looking lad, a year older than myself. Bear Man’s -father died, and Bear Man cut off his long hair in mourning. -Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing made a switch of his father’s hair, tastefully -spotting it with little lumps of spruce gum mixed with red ochre. He -looked quite manly, I thought, wearing this switch, in spite of his -fifteen years. - -[Illustration] - -My father’s earth lodge and Bear Man’s both faced eastward, with the -lodge of Blue Paint’s family standing between; but, as I stood at my -father’s lodge entrance, I could see the flat top of Bear Man’s lodge -over Blue Paint’s roof. Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing had joined the Stone -Hammer Society a short while before, and had begun to paint his face -like a young man. He would get up on his father’s roof, painted, and -decked out in hair switch, best leggings, and moccasins, and sing his -society’s songs. He had a fine voice, I thought; and when I went out -with my buck-brush broom to sweep the ground about our lodge entrance, -Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing would sing harder than ever. I thought perhaps he -did this so that I would hear him. I was too well-bred to look up at -him, but I did not always hurry to finish my sweeping. - -There had been plenty of rain, and the June berry trees were now loaded -with ripe fruit. We Indians set great store by these berries, and -almost every family dried one or more sackfuls for winter. June berries -are sweet, and, as we had no sugar, we were fond of them. - -We were sitting one evening at our supper. Red Blossom had gone into -the woods earlier in the day and fetched home some ripe June berries -which we were eating. Perhaps that is why we ended our meal with -our kettle half-full of boiled meat. “We will save this meat until -morning,” Red Blossom said. “We must breakfast early, for Strikes-Many -Woman and I are going with a party to pick June berries. Our daughter -may go with us, if she will.” - -I was quite happy when I heard this. I had seen my two mothers getting -ready their berry sacks; and, looking over to the bench where they lay, -I now saw that a small sack had been laid out for me. - -Red Blossom dipped her fingers into the kettle for a lump of fat and -continued: “The mother of that young man, Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing, said -to me to-day, ‘If your daughter goes berrying to-morrow, my son wishes -to go with her. He will take his bow and keep off enemies.” - -I did not blush, for we Indian girls had dark skins and painted our -cheeks; but I felt my heart jump. I looked down at the floor, then got -up and went about my work, humming a song as I did so; for I thought, -“I am going berrying in the morning.” I felt quite grown-up to know -that a young man wanted to go berrying with me. - -[Illustration] - -We were off the next morning before the sun was up. I walked with my -mothers and the other women. The men went a little ahead, armed, some -with guns, others with bows. Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing walked behind the -men. On his back I saw a handsome otter-skin quiver, full of arrows. -I felt safer to see those arrows. Enemies might be lurking anywhere -in the woods, ready to capture us or take our scalps. We Indian women -dared not go far into the woods without men to protect us. - -At the woods the men joined us, and our party broke up into little -groups, the older men helping their wives, and the younger men -their sweethearts. I made my way to a clump of June berry trees -bent nearly to the ground with fruit. I did not look to see if -Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing was following me. I thought, “If he wants to -help me, he may; but I shall not ask him.” I spread a skin under the -branches, and I was looking for a stout stick when I saw my boy friend -breaking off the laden branches and piling them on the skin, ready to -be beaten. - -I sat on the ground and with my stick beat off the berries. -Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing fetched me fresh branches, and in an hour or two -I had enough berries to fill my sack. Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing’s arrows -lay at my feet. Once, when a near-by bush stirred, my boy friend leaped -for his bow and laid an arrow on the string; but it was the wind, I -guess. - -[Illustration] - -All the time that we worked together Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing and I spoke -not a word. Older couples, I knew, talked together, when they thought -of marrying; but I was a young girl yet and did not want to be bothered -with a husband. - -When my sack was filled, I tied it shut and slung it on my back by my -packing strap. Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing laid some sweet smelling leaves -under the sack that the juices from the ripe berries might not ooze -through and stain my dress. - -I am sorry to say that I am not sure I even thanked -Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing for all he did to help me. - -I walked back to the village with the women as I had come. Ahead of us -walked a young woman named Pink Blossom, with her chin in the air as -if she were angry. The older women, coming after her, were laughing -and slyly jesting with one another. I asked my mothers what it was all -about. - -It seems there was an old man in our party named Old Bear, whose wife -had died. He wanted to marry again and smiled at Pink Blossom whenever -she passed him; but she did not like Old Bear, and she turned her eyes -away whenever he came near. - -When she came to the June berry woods, Pink Blossom set her sack under -a tree, while she picked berries. Old Bear saw the sack. He folded his -robe under his arm into a kind of pocket, picked it full of berries, -and emptied them into Pink Blossom’s sack. - -This vexed Pink Blossom. She went to her sack and poured Old Bear’s -berries out on the ground. “I do not want that old man to smile at me,” -she told the other women. - -It was because the women were laughing at her and Old Bear, that Pink -Blossom walked ahead with her chin in the air. The others were having a -good deal of fun with one another at her expense. - -“I think Pink Blossom did wrong to waste the berries,” said one, a clan -cousin. “If she did not want them herself, she should have given them -back to Old Bear, for him to eat.” - -“Old Bear’s is a sad case,” said Elk Woman. “But I knew a man in a -worse case.” - -“Tell us of it,” said Red Blossom. - -“Years ago,” said Elk Woman, “I went berrying with some others on the -other side of the Missouri. In the party was a young man named Weasel -Arm. He was a good singer, and he liked to sing so that his sweetheart -could hear his voice. His sweetheart was also in the party. Weasel Arm -helped her fill her sack; and when she went back with the other women -and they were waiting for some that had not yet come in, Weasel Arm lay -down on the grass a little way off and sang, beating time on the stock -of his gun. - -“As he lay there he heard some one riding toward him, but thought it -was one of his party. It was a Sioux; and right in the midst of the -song—_poh!_—the Sioux fired, wounding Weasel Arm in the hip. Luckily -the wound was slight, and Weasel Arm sprang for the near-by woods. The -Sioux dared not follow him, for he saw that Weasel Arm had a gun.” - -“I do not think Weasel Arm’s case as sad as Old Bear’s,” said one of -the women. “Weasel Arm was wounded in his body, but Old Bear is wounded -in his heart.” - -Elk Woman laughed. “Have no fear for Old Bear,” she said. “He is an old -man and has had more than one sweetheart. His heart will soon heal.” - -[Illustration] - -“But I am sorry for the spilled berries,” she continued. “Pink Blossom -should not waste good berries, even if Old Bear does look like an old -man.” - -All laughed at this but Pink Blossom. - -“I knew a young woman who once wasted good rose berries, just as Pink -Blossom wasted the June berries,” said Old-Owl Woman. - -“Tell us the story,” said one of my mothers. - -“When I was a girl,” said Old-Owl Woman, “Ear-Eat, a Crow Indian, -married Yellow Blossom, a Hidatsa girl. They went to live with the -Crows, but after a year they came back to visit our tribe at Five -Villages. - -“It was in the fall, when the rose berries are ripe. Now the Crow -Indians like to eat rose berries, and gather them to dry for winter as -we dry squashes. We Hidatsas eat rose berries sometimes, but we never -dry them for winter. We think they are food for wild men. - -“Ear-Eat was riding in the woods near our villages, when he found a -thicket of rose bushes bending over with their load of ripe berries. -‘_Ey_,’ he cried, ‘how many berries are here! I never saw it thus in -our Crow country.’ And he got off his horse and began to pick the -berries. - -“He had no basket to put them in, so he drew off his leggings, tied the -bottoms shut with his moccasin strings, and, when he had filled the -leggings with berries, he slung them over his horse’s back like a pair -of saddle bags. - -“He rode home happy, for he thought, ‘My wife will be glad to see so -many berries.’ - -“When Yellow Blossom saw her husband riding home without his leggings, -and with the tops of his moccasins loose and flapping, she could -hardly believe her eyes. As she stood staring, Ear-Eat got off his -horse and handed her his bulging leggings. ‘Here, wife,’ he cried, -‘look at these fine berries. Now we shall have something good to eat.’ - -“The village women, hearing what Ear-Eat said, crowded close to look. -When they saw that his leggings were filled with rose berries, they -cried out with laughter. - -“Yellow Blossom was angry. ‘You are crazy,’ she cried to her husband. -‘We Hidatsas raise corn, beans, sunflower seed, and good squashes to -eat. We are not starving, that we must eat rose berries.’ - -“‘The Crow Indians eat rose berries,’ said Ear-Eat. ‘My mother used to -dry them for winter food.’ - -“His words but vexed Yellow Blossom more. - -“‘I am a Hidatsa woman, not a Crow,’ she cried. ‘We Hidatsas are not -wild people. We live in earth lodges and eat foods from our gardens. -When we go berrying we put our berries into clean baskets, not into our -leggings.’ And she turned the leggings up and poured the rose berries -out on the ground.” - -We all laughed at Old-Owl Woman’s story. - -“We had other use for rose berries when I was a girl,” said Red -Blossom. “If a young man went at evening to talk with his sweetheart, -he put a ripe rose berry in his mouth to make his breath sweet.” - -“I wonder if Old Bear put a rose berry in his mouth,” said Old-Owl -Woman. - -“I think he put two rose berries in his mouth,” said Red Blossom, -smiling. - -All laughed again but Pink Blossom; she walked on, saying nothing. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - TWELFTH CHAPTER - - THE CORN HUSKING - - -After the June berry season came choke-cherries. We did not gather so -big a store of these, but they were harder to prepare for drying. I -can yet see old Turtle, with her gnarled, wrinkled fingers, plying the -crushing stones. She dropped three or four cherries on a round stone -and crushed them with a smaller stone held in her palm. The pulp she -squeezed through her palms into lumps, which she dried in the sun. - -And then came the corn harvest, busiest and happiest time of all the -year. It was hard work gathering and husking the corn, but what fun -we had! For days we girls thought of nothing but the fine dresses we -should wear at the husking. - -While the ears were ripening my sister and I went every morning to sit -on our watch stage and sing to the corn. One evening we brought home -with us a basketful of the green ears and were husking them by the -fire. My father gathered up the husks and took them out of the lodge. I -wondered why he did so. - -“I fed the husks, daughter, to my pack horses,” he said, when he came -back. “To-morrow I go hunting to get meat for the husking.” He had -brought his hunting pony into the lodge, but he had penned his pack -horses for the night under the corn stage. - -My two mothers, I knew, were planning a big feast. “We have much corn -to husk,” they said, “and we must have plenty of food, for we do not -want our huskers to go away hungry.” - -Small Ankle left us before daybreak. He returned the fourth day -after, about noon, with two deer loaded on his pack horses. “One is -a black-tail,” he told us when he came in the lodge, “a buck that I -killed yesterday in some bad lands by the Little Missouri. He was -hiding in a clump of trees. As I rode near, he winded me and ran out -into the open. I checked my pony, and the buck stopped to look around. -I fired, and he fell; but, when I got off my horse, the buck rose and -tried to push me with his horns. I killed him with my knife.” A wounded -black-tail often tried to fight off the hunters: a white-tail hardly -ever did so. - -The next morning we women rose early, and with our baskets hastened to -the cornfield. All day we plucked the ripe ears, bearing them in our -baskets to the center of the field, where we laid them in a long pile. -That night my father and Red Blossom slept on the watchers’ stage, to -see that no horse broke in and trampled our corn pile. There was not -much danger of this. Around the field ran a kind of fence, of willows, -enough to keep out the ponies. - -[Illustration] - -The rest of us returned to the lodge to make ready for the feast the -next day. Turtle fetched out three great bundles of dried buffalo meat -and piled them on the puncheon bench with the freshly killed deer meat. -Our three kettles were scoured and set by, ready to be taken to the -field. - -At nightfall Bear’s Tail went around the village to lodges of our -relatives and friends, and invited the young men to come to our husking. - -I was too excited that night to sleep much. Early in the morning my -sister and I rose and went to the river for a dip in its cold waters. -After a hasty breakfast I put on my best dress, of deer skin, with -hoofs hanging like bangles at the edge of the skirt and three rows of -costly elk teeth across the front. Cold Medicine helped me paint my -face, and was careful to rub a little red ochre in the part of my hair. - -The sun was just coming over the prairie when we started for the field. -We had loaded our kettles and meat on two pack horses, and old Turtle -led the way. My father and Red Blossom had risen early and eaten -breakfast, and now had a brisk fire going. We put our kettles on, after -filling them with water. In one we put dried, in another fresh, meat; -the third kettle we filled with green corn, late planted for this -purpose. The meat and corn were for our feast. - -The sun was three hours high when the huskers came. They were about -thirty in all, young men, except three or four crippled old warriors -who wanted to feast. These were too old to work much, but my father -made them welcome. - -The huskers came into the field yelling and singing. We had, indeed, -heard their yells long before we saw them. I think young men all sing -and yell, just because they are young. - -My sister and I were already seated at one side of the corn pile, and -the other women joined us. The young men sat down on the opposite side, -and the husking began. - -I saw that Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing sat just opposite me. Next to him was -a young man named Red Hand, with grass plumes in his hair. These meant -that he had been in a war party and had been sent out to spy on the -enemy. I saw Red Hand looking at me, and I was glad that I was wearing -my elk teeth dress. “He is a young man,” I thought, “not a boy, like -Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing.” - -The huskers worked rapidly, stripping off the dry husks with their -hands. The big fine ears they braided in strings, to save for seed. -Smaller ears they tossed into a pile. Big as our corn pile was, it was -husked in about four hours. - -[Illustration] - -My mothers then served the feast. The huskers were hearty eaters; for, -like all young men, they had good appetites; but we had a big feast of -meat, and even they could not eat all. It was not polite to leave any -of the food, and some had brought sharp sticks on which they skewered -the meat they could not eat, to take home with them. - -The feast over, the huskers went to another field, singing and yelling -as they went. - -We women had now to busy ourselves carrying in our corn. - -We loaded our two pack horses with strings of braided ears, ten strings -to a pony. The smaller ears we bore to the village in our baskets, to -dry on our corn stage before threshing. - -In midafternoon there were a few strings of corn still left, and I was -laying them by for the next trip when I heard steps. I looked up and -saw Red Hand coming, leading his pony. - -Red Hand did not speak, but he laid my strings of corn on his pony and -started for the village. “He wants to help me take home my corn,” I -thought. A young man did thus for the girl he admired. “Red Hand is -brave, and he owns a pony,” I said to myself; and I forgot all about -Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing. - -My father returned with the pack horses just as Red Hand was starting -off; and I was stooping to fill my basket, when suddenly there came a -sound, _poh-poh-poh_, as of guns; then yells, and a woman screamed. -Small Ankle sprang for his war pony, which he had left hobbled near the -husking pile. - -Our corn fields lay in a strip of flat land skirted by low foot hills; -and now I saw, coming over the hills, a party of Sioux, thirty or -more, mounted, and painted for war. At the edge of the hills they -checked their ponies, and those who had guns began firing down into our -gardens. Many of the Sioux were armed with bows and arrows. - -On all sides arose outcries. My brave father dashed by with his ringing -war whoop, _ui, ui, ui_;[22] and after him Red Hand, lashing his pony -and yelling like mad. Red Hand had thrown away my strings of corn, but -I was not thinking of my corn just then. - - [22] ṳ ï (pronounced like ōō ēē, but quickly and sharply) - -Women and children began streaming past our field to the village. Brave -young men rode between them and our enemies, lest the Sioux dash down -and cut off some straggler. Two lads, on swift ponies, galloped ahead -to rouse the villagers. - -Meanwhile my father and others were fighting off the Sioux from the -shelter of some clumps of small trees that dotted the flat: Our enemies -did not fight standing, but galloped and pranced their horses about on -the hillside to spoil our aim. - -[Illustration] - -Suddenly a Sioux warrior, in trailing eagle-feather bonnet, and mounted -on a beautiful spotted pony, dashed down the hillside toward us, waving -his bow over his head; and from our side I saw Red Hand, gun in hand, -riding to meet him. - -As they drew near one another the Sioux swerved, and an arrow, like a -little snake, came curving through the air. Red Hand’s pony stumbled -and fell, the shaft in its throat; but Red Hand, leaping to the ground, -raised his gun and fired. I saw the Sioux drop his bow and ride back -clinging desperately to his pony’s mane. Red Hand put his hand to his -mouth and I heard his _yi-yi-yi-yi-yah_,[23] the yell that a warrior -made when he had wounded an enemy. - - [23] yĭ yĭ yĭ yĭ yäh´ - -On the side toward our village other cries now arose, for the warriors -were coming to our help. The Sioux fled. Our men pursued them, and at -nightfall came back with one scalp. - -All that night we danced the scalp dance. A big fire was built. Men and -women painted their faces black and sang glad songs. Old women cried -_a-la-la-la-la!_[24] Young men danced, yelled and boasted of their -deeds. All said that Red Hand was a brave young man and would become a -great warrior. - - [24] ä lä lä lä lä´ - -[Illustration] - -The next day I was coming from the watering place with my kettle. Just -ahead of me walked Waving Corn, a handsome girl two years older than I. -Red Hand passed by; shyly I looked up, thinking to see him smile at me. - -He was smiling at Waving Corn. - - - - -[Illustration] - - THIRTEENTH CHAPTER - - MARRIAGE - - -And so I grew up, a happy, contented Indian girl, obedient to my -mothers, but loving them dearly. I learned to cook, dress skins, -embroider, sew with awl and sinew, and cut and make moccasins, clothing -and tent covers. There was always plenty of work to do, but I had time -to rest, and to go to see my friends; and I was not given tasks beyond -my strength. My father did the heavy lifting, if posts or beams were -to be raised. “You are young, daughter,” he would say. “Take care you -do not overstrain!” He was a kind man, and helped my mothers and me -whenever we had hard work to do. - -For my industry in dressing skins, my clan aunt, Sage, gave me a -woman’s belt. It was as broad as my three fingers, and covered with -blue beads. One end was made long, to hang down before me. Only a very -industrious girl was given such a belt. She could not buy or make one. -No relative could give her the belt; for a clan aunt, remember, was not -a blood relative. To wear a woman’s belt was an honor. I was as proud -of mine as a war leader of his first scalp. - -I won other honors by my industry. For embroidering a robe for my -father with porcupine quills I was given a brass ring, bought of the -traders; and for embroidering a tent cover with gull quills dyed yellow -and blue I was given a bracelet. There were few girls in the village -who owned belt, ring and bracelet. - -In these years of my girlhood my mothers were watchful of all that I -did. We had big dances in the village, when men and women sang, drums -beat loud, and young men, painted and feathered, danced and yelled to -show their brave deeds. I did not go to these dances often, and, when -I did, my mothers went with me. Ours was one of the better families of -the tribe, and my mothers were very careful of me. - -I was eighteen years old the Bent-Enemy-Killed winter; for we Hidatsas -reckoned by winters, naming each for something that happened in it. An -old man named Hanging Stone then lived in the village. He had a stepson -named Magpie, a handsome young man and a good hunter. - -One morning Hanging Stone came into our lodge. It was a little while -after our morning meal, and I was putting away the wooden bowls that -we used for dishes. The hollow buffalo hoofs hung on the door for -bells, I remember, rattled clitter, clitter, clitter, as he raised and -let fall the door. My father was sitting by the fire. - -Hanging Stone walked up to my father, and laid his right hand on my -father’s head. “I want you to believe what I say,” he cried. “I want my -boy to live in your good family. I am poor, you are rich; but I want -you to favor us and do as I ask.” - -He went over to my mothers and did likewise, speaking the same words to -both. He then strode out of the lodge. - -Neither my father nor my mothers said anything, and I did not know at -first what it all meant. My father sat for a while, looking at the -fire. At last he spoke, “My daughter is too young to marry. When she is -older I may be willing.” - -Toward evening Hanging Stone and his relatives brought four horses and -three flint-lock guns to our lodge. He tied the four horses to the -drying stage outside. They had good bridles, with chains hanging to the -bits. On the back of each horse was a blanket and some yards of calico, -very expensive in those days. - -Hanging Stone came into the lodge. “I have brought you four horses and -three guns,” he said to my father. - -“I must refuse them,” answered Small Ankle. “My daughter is too young -to marry.” - -Hanging Stone went away, but he did not take his horses with him. My -father sent them back by some young men. - -The evening of the second day after, Hanging Stone came again to our -lodge. As before, he brought the three guns and gifts of cloth, and -four horses; but two of these were hunting horses. A hunting horse was -one fleet enough to overtake a buffalo, a thing that few of our little -Indian ponies could do. Such horses were costly and hard to get. A -family that had good hunting horses had always plenty of meat. - -After Hanging Stone left, my father said to his wives, “What do you -think about it?” - -“We would rather not say anything,” they answered. “Do as you think -best.” - -“I know this Magpie,” said my father. “He is a kind young man. I have -refused his gifts once, but I see his heart is set on having our -daughter. I think I shall agree to it.” - -Turning to me he spoke: “My daughter, I have tried to raise you right. -I have hunted and worked hard to give you food to eat. Now I want you -to take my advice. Take this man for your husband. Try always to love -him. Do not think in your heart, ‘I am a handsome young woman, but this -man, my husband, is older and not handsome.’ Never taunt your husband. -Try not to do anything that will make him angry.” - -I did not answer _yes_ or _no_ to this; for I thought, “If my father -wishes me to do this, why that is the best thing for me to do.” I had -been taught to be obedient to my father. I do not think white children -are taught so, as we Indian children were taught. - -[Illustration] - -For nigh a week my father and my two mothers were busy getting ready -the feast foods for the wedding. On the morning of the sixth day, my -father took from his bag a fine weasel-skin cap and an eagle-feather -war bonnet. The first he put on my head; the second he handed to my -sister, Cold Medicine. “Take these to Hanging Stone’s lodge,” he said. - -We were now ready to march. I led, my sister walking with me. Behind -us came some of our relatives, leading three horses; and, after them, -five great kettles of feast foods, on poles borne on the shoulders of -women relatives. The kettles held boiled dried green corn and ripe corn -pounded to meal and boiled with beans; and they were steaming hot. - -There was a covered entrance to Hanging Stone’s lodge. The light was -rather dim inside, and I did not see a dog lying there until he sprang -up, barking _wu-wu!_ and dashed past me. I sprang back, startled. -Cold Medicine tittered. “Do not be foolish,” called one of our women -relatives. Cold Medicine stopped her tittering, but I think we were -rather glad of the dog. My sister and I had never marched in a wedding -before, and we were both a little scared. - -[Illustration] - -I lifted the skin door—it was an old-fashioned one swinging on thongs -from the beam overhead—and entered the lodge. Hanging Stone sat on -his couch against the puncheon fire screen. I went to him and put the -weasel-skin cap on his head. The young man who was to be my husband was -sitting on his couch, a frame of poles covered with a tent skin. Cold -Medicine and I went over and shyly sat on the floor near-by. - -The kettles of feast foods had been set down near the fireplace, and -the three horses tied to the corn stage without. Hanging Stone had -fetched my father four horses. We reckoned the weasel cap and the war -bonnet as worth each a horse; and, with these and our three horses, my -father felt he was going his friend one horse better. It was a point -of honor in an Indian family for the bride’s father to make a more -valuable return gift than that brought him by the bridegroom and his -friends. - -[Illustration: Plate II.—“I put the weasel-skin cap on his head.”] - -As we two girls sat on the floor, with ankles to the right, as Indian -women always sit, Magpie’s mother filled a wooden bowl with dried -buffalo meat pounded fine and mixed with marrow fat, and set it for my -sister and me to eat. We ate as much as we could. What was left, my -sister put in a fold of her robe, and we arose and went home. It would -have been impolite to leave behind any of the food given us to eat. - -Later in the day Magpie’s relatives and friends came to feast on the -foods we had taken to Hanging Stone’s lodge. Each guest brought a gift, -something useful to a new-wed bride—beaded work, fawn-skin work bag, -girl’s leggings, belt, blanket, woman’s robe, calico for a dress, and -the like. In the evening two women of Magpie’s family brought these -gifts to my father’s lodge, packing them each in a blanket on her back. -They piled the gifts on the floor beside Red Blossom, the elder of my -two mothers. - -Red Blossom spent the next few days helping me build and decorate the -couch that was to mark off the part of our lodge set apart for my -husband and me. We even made and placed before the couch a fine, roomy -lazy-back, or willow chair. - -All being now ready, Red Blossom said to me: “Go and call your husband. -Go and sit beside him and say, ‘I want you to come to my father’s -lodge.’ Do not feel shy. Go boldly and have no fear.” - -So with my sister I slowly walked to Hanging Stone’s lodge. There were -several besides the family within, for they were expecting me; but no -one said anything as we entered. - -Magpie was sitting on his couch, for this in the daytime was used as -white men use a lounge or a big chair. My sister and I went over and -sat beside him. Magpie smiled and said, “What have you come for?” - -“I have come to call you,” I answered. - -“_Sukkeets_—good!” he said. - -Cold Medicine and I arose and returned to my father’s lodge. Magpie -followed us a few minutes later; for young men did not walk through the -village with their sweethearts in the daytime. We should have thought -that foolish. - -And so I was wed. - - - - -[Illustration] - - FOURTEENTH CHAPTER - - A BUFFALO HUNT - - -My young husband and I lived together but a few years. He died of lung -sickness; and, after I had mourned a year, I married Son-of-a-Star, a -Mandan. My family wished me to marry again; for, while an Indian woman -could raise corn for herself and family, she could not hunt to get meat -and skins. - -Son-of-a-Star was a kind man, and my father liked him. “He is brave, -daughter,” Small Ankle said. “He wears two eagle feathers, for he has -twice struck an enemy, and he has danced the death dance. Three times -he has shot an arrow through a buffalo.” It was not easy to shoot an -arrow through a buffalo and few of my tribe had done so. - -Spring had come, and in the moon of Breaking Ice we returned to -Like-a-Fishhook village. Our hunters had not killed many deer the -winter before, and our stores of corn were getting low. As ours was -a large family, Son-of-a-Star thought he would join a hunting party -that was going up the river for buffaloes. “Even if we do not find much -game,” he said, “we shall kill enough for ourselves. We younger men -should not be eating the corn and beans that old men and children need.” - -Small Ankle thought the plan a good one. I was glad also, for I was to -be one of the party. Corn planting time would not come for a month yet; -and, after the weeks in our narrow winter quarters, I longed to be out -again in the fresh air. - -There were ten in the party besides Son-of-a-Star and myself: -Crow-Flies-High, Bad Brave, High Backbone, Long Bear, and Scar, and -their wives. Scar was a Teton Sioux who had come to visit us. - -My tribe now owned many horses, and fewer dogs were used than when I -was a little girl. A party of buffalo hunters usually took both hunting -and pack horses; but our village herd was weak and poor in flesh after -the scant winter’s feeding, and we thought it better to take only dogs. -There was yet little pasture, and the ground was wet and spongy from -the spring thaws. Only a strong, well-fed pony could go all day on wet -ground. - -I took three of our family dogs. On the travois of two I loaded robes -for bedding, the halves of an old tent cover, moccasins for myself and -husband, an ax, a copper kettle and a flesher for dressing hides. My -third dog dragged a bull boat, bound mouth down to the travois poles. -We planned to return by way of the river, in boats. - -We were clad warmly, for the weather was chill. All had robes. I wore a -dress of two deer skins sewed edge to edge; the hind legs, thus sewed, -made the sleeves for my arms. - -[Illustration] - -I had made my husband a fine skin shirt, embroidered with beads. Over -it he drew his robe, fur side in. He spread his feet apart, drew the -robe high enough to cover his head, and folded it, tail end first, over -his right side; then the head end over his left, and belted the robe in -place. He spread his feet apart when belting, to give the robe a loose -skirt for walking in. - -We all wore winter moccasins, fur lined, with high tops. The men -carried guns. Buffalo hunters no longer used bows except from horseback. - -We started off gaily, in a long line. Each woman was followed by her -dogs. Two women, having no dogs, packed their camp stuff on their backs. - -We made our first camp late in the afternoon, at a place called -Timber-Faces-across-River. There was a spring here, of good water. -Crow-Flies-High and Bad Brave went hunting, while we women pitched -our tent. We cut forked poles and stacked them with tops together -like a tepee. We covered this frame with skins, laced together at -the edges with thongs. A rawhide lariat was drawn around the outside -of the cover; and small logs, laid about the edges, held the tent to -the ground. We could not use tent pins, for the ground was frozen. -We raised an old saddle skin on the windward side of the smoke hole, -staying it with a forked pole, thrust through a hole in the edge. We -were some time building, as the tent had to be large enough for twelve -persons. - -We finished just at dusk; and we were starting a fire inside, when the -two hunters came in. Each packed on his back the side and ham of an -elk they had killed. Bad Brave had laid a pad of dry grass across his -shoulders that the meat juice might not stain his robe. - -It was getting dark, and, while we women gathered dry grass for our -beds, the two hunters roasted one of the sides of meat. They skewered -it on a stick and swung it from the drying pole. Standing on each side, -the two men swung the meat slowly, forth and back, over the fire. - -We were all hungry when we sat down to eat. The fresh roasted ribs of -the elk were juicy and sweet, and with full stomachs we felt sleepy, -for the day’s march had been long. We gladly spread our robes and crept -into our beds, first covering a coal with ashes for the morning fire. - -[Illustration] - -Next morning we had struck our tent and loaded our dogs before the sun -was well up. We took only the tent cover, leaving the poles. Three -of our men went ahead to hunt. The rest followed more slowly, not to -tire our dogs. Now and then we stopped to rest and eat from our lunch -bags. These were of dried buffalo heart skins. Every woman in the party -carried one of them tucked under her belt. We had been careful to fill -our bags with cooked meat, from our breakfast. - -My husband walked at my side if he talked with me. At other times he -went a little ahead; for, if enemies or a grizzly attacked us, he would -thus be in front, ready to fight, giving me time to escape. - -Our trail led along the brow of the bluffs overlooking the Missouri. -There was a path here, fairly well marked, made by hunting parties, and -perhaps by buffaloes. - -Our second camp was at a place called the Slides; for, here, big blocks -of earth, softened by the spring rains, sometimes slide down the bank -into the river. We found a spring a little way in from the river, with -small trees that we could cut for tent poles. - -[Illustration] - -Our tent was hardly pitched when Son-of-a-Star and Scar came in to say -they had killed a stray buffalo not far away. They had packed part of -the meat to camp on their shoulders, and Son-of-a-Star had cut out the -buffalo’s paunch and filled it with fresh blood. While the two hunters -went back for the rest of the meat, I put on my copper kettle and made -blood pudding. It was hot and ready to serve by the time they came -back. I had stirred the pudding with a green chokecherry stick, giving -it a pleasant, cherry flavor. - -We were a jolly party as we sat around the evening fire. The hot -pudding felt good in our stomachs, after the long march. My good dogs, -Knife-Carrier, Took-a-Scalp, and Packs-a-Babe, I had fed with scraps -of meat from the dead buffalo, and they were dozing outside, snuggled -against the tent to keep warm. _Okeemeea_,[25] Crow-Flies-High’s wife, -fetched in some dry wood, which she put on the fire. A yellow blaze lit -up the tent and a column of thin, blue smoke rose upward to the smoke -hole. - - [25] O kēē mēē´ ä - -Crow-Flies-High filled his pipe and passed it among the men. Hidatsa -women do not smoke. - -In the morning, on the way up, we had forded a stream we call Rising -Water creek. My leggings and moccasins were still wet; and, as I was -wringing them out to dry over the fire, I said to High Backbone’s -wife Blossom: “That creek is dangerous. As I was fording it to-day, I -slipped in the mud and nearly fell in; but I once got a good dinner out -of that mud.” - -“How did you get a dinner out of mud?” asked Blossom. - -“I will tell you,” I answered. “I was a young girl then. My tribe -had come up the river to hunt buffaloes and we had stopped at Rising -Water Creek to make fires and eat our midday meal. It was summer and -the creek was low, for there had been little rain. Some little girls -went down for water. They came running back, much frightened. ‘We saw -something move in the mud of the creek,’ they cried. ‘It is alive!’ - -“We ran to the bank of the creek and, sure enough, something that -looked as big as a man was struggling and floundering in a pool. The -water was roiled and thick with mud. - -“We could not think what it could be. Some thought it was an enemy -trying to hide in the mud. - -“A brave young man named Skunk threw off his leggings, drew his knife, -and waded out to the thing. Suddenly he stooped, and in a moment -started to land with the thing in his arms. It was a great fish, a -sturgeon. It had a smooth back, like a catfish. We cut up the flesh and -boiled it. It tasted sweet, like catfish flesh. I do not remember if we -drank the broth, as we do when we boil catfish.” - -[Illustration] - -“I have seen those fish,” said Bad Brave. “Sometimes when the Missouri -falls after the spring floods, one of them will be left stranded on the -sand; but I never knew one to be seen in Rising Water creek. I know -that turtles are found there, the big kind that fight.” - -“I have heard that white men eat turtles,” said Long Bear’s wife. “I do -not believe it.” - -“They do eat turtles,” said High Backbone, “and they eat frogs. A white -man told me. I asked him.” - -“_Ey!_ And such unclean things; I could not eat them,” cried Bird Woman. - -“There are big turtles in our Dakota lakes,” said Scar. “They are so -big that they drag under the water buffaloes that come there to drink. -I once heard a story of a magic turtle.” - -“Tell us the story,” said Son-of-a-Star. - -“A brave young Dakota led out a war party, of six men,” began Scar. -“They came into the Chippewa country and wandered about, seeking to -strike an enemy. They found deserted camps, sometimes with ashes in the -fire pit still warm; but they found no enemies. - -“One day they came to a beautiful lake. On the shore, close to the -water, was a grassy knoll, rising upward like the back of a great -turtle. - -“The leader of the party had now begun to lose heart. ‘We have found no -enemy,’ he said. ‘I think the gods are angry with us. We should return -home. If we do not, harm may come to us.’ - -“‘Let us rest by this knoll,’ said one. ‘When we have smoked, we will -start back home.’ - -“They had smoked but one pipe when the leader said, ‘I think we should -go now. There is something strange about this knoll. Somehow, I think -it is alive.’ - -“There was a young man in the party, reckless and full of life, whom -the others called the Mocker. He sprang up crying, ‘Let us see if it is -alive. Come on, we will dance on the knoll.’ - -“‘No,’ said the leader, ‘an evil spirit may be in the knoll. The hill -may be but the spirit’s body. It is not wise to mock the gods.’ - -“‘_Hwee_[26]—come on! Who is afraid?’ cried the Mocker. He ran to the -top of the knoll, and three of the party followed him laughing. They -leaped and danced and called to the others, ‘What do you fear?’ - - [26] Hwēē - -“Suddenly the knoll began to shake. It put out legs. It began to move -toward the lake. It was a huge turtle. - -“‘Help, help!’ cried the Mocker. He and his friends tried to escape. -They could not. Some power held their feet fast to the turtle’s back, -so that they could not move. - -“The great turtle plunged in the lake. The men were never seen again.” - -[Illustration] - -There was silence when Scar ended. Then Crow-Flies-High spoke: “Those -men were foolish. One should never make mock of the spirits.” He -paused, puffing at his pipe and blowing great clouds from his nostrils. -“I know a story of another Dakota who came to grief at a lake,” he -continued, as he passed the burning pipe for my husband to smoke. - -“What is the story?” said Scar, smiling. - -“We Hidatsas,” said Crow-Flies-High, “believe that all babies born in -our tribe have lived in another life. Some have lived in hills we call -Babes’ Lodges. Others have lived as birds or beasts or even plants. - -“Down near the Dakota country is a lake. It is magic; and in old times -young men went there to see what they had been in a former life. If one -got up early in the morning while the lake was smooth, and looked in -the water, he saw in his shadow the shadow also of what he had been. -Some found this to be a bird, others a plant, as a flower or a squash. - -“A Dakota Indian had married a Hidatsa woman, and dwelt with our tribe. -He was a good man, but he had a sharp tongue. He often got angry and -said bitter words to his wife. When his anger had gone, he felt sorry -for his words. ‘I do not know why I have such a sharp tongue,’ he would -say. - -[Illustration] - -“One day, when hunting with some Hidatsas, he came near the magic lake. -‘I am going to see what I was before I became a babe,’ he told the -others. In the morning he went to the lake, leaned over and looked. In -his shadow he saw what he had been. It was a thorn bush. - -“With heavy heart, he came back to camp. ‘Now I know why I have a sharp -tongue,’ he cried. ‘It is because I was a thorn bush. All my life I -shall speak sharp words, like thorns.’” - -All laughed at Crow-Flies-High’s story, none more than Scar himself. “I -am sure _I_ was never a thorn bush,” he said, “for I speak sweet words -to my wife, even when she scolds me.” - -“Hey, listen to the man!” cried his wife. - -“But stop talking, you men,” she continued, as she reached for a piece -of bark to use as a shovel. “It is time to sleep, for we must be up -early in the morning.” And she began to cover the fire with ashes. - - - - -[Illustration] - - FIFTEENTH CHAPTER - - THE HUNTING CAMP - - -We were up the next morning before the sun, and, after a hasty -breakfast, the men went out to look for buffaloes. “The one we killed -yesterday may have strayed from a herd,” Son-of-a-Star said. He was -hopeful that they might find the herd near. - -We women were getting dinner when the men returned, having seen no -buffaloes. I had cut a green stick with prongs, on which I spread -slices of fresh buffalo steak, and held them over the fire to broil. I -had three juicy steaks, steaming hot, lying on a little pile of clean -grass, when my husband came in. “_Sukkeets_—good!” he cried; and he had -eaten all three steaks before I had the fourth well warmed through. - -After dinner we broke camp and went on about five miles to Shell Creek -Lake. In the afternoon of the following day we reached Deep Creek. We -pitched our tent on a bit of rising ground from which we scraped the -wet snow with a hoe. The weather was getting warmer. Ice had broken on -the Missouri the day we killed the stray buffalo. - -While we women busied ourselves with things in camp, the men went to -hunt, and five miles farther on they discovered a herd of buffaloes -crossing the Missouri from the south side. Our hunters, creeping close -on the down-wind side, shot five fat cows as they landed. Buffaloes are -rather stupid animals, but have keen scent. Had our hunters tried to -come at them from the windward side, the herd would have winded them a -half mile away. As it was, no more buffaloes crossed after the shots -were fired, and some that were in the water swam back to the other -side. A rifle shot at the Missouri’s edge will echo between the bluffs -like a crash of thunder. - -The hunters found an elm tree with low hanging branches, and under it -they built a rude stage. Meat and skins of the slain buffaloes they -laid on the floor of the stage, out of reach of wolves. Some of the -meat they hung on the branches of the elm. - -Son-of-a-Star brought back two hams and a tongue. I sliced the tough -outer meat from the hams, to feed to my dogs. The bones, with the -tender, inner meat, I laid on stones, around the fireplace, to roast, -turning them now and then to keep the meat from scorching. The roasted -meat we stripped off, and cracked the hot bones for the rich, yellow -marrow. - -The next morning Crow-Flies-High called a council, and we decided to -cross over to the other side of the river. “The main herd is there,” -said Crow-Flies-High. “We should hunt the buffaloes before they move to -other pasture.” We thought he spoke wisely, and men and women seized -axes to cut a road through the willows for our travois. - -These we now loaded. The dogs dragged them to the water’s edge and -we made ready to cross. There were two other bull boats in the party -besides my own. - -My husband helped me load my boat, and we pushed off, our three dogs -swimming after us. We had bound our travois to the tail of the boat, -one upon the other. The long runners dragged in the water, but the -travois baskets, raised to the boat’s edge, were hardly wetted. - -We landed, and I lent my boat to Scar to bring over his wife and her -camp stuff. Our whole party crossed and brought over their goods in two -trips. - -We packed our goods up the bank and made camp. While we women were -cutting poles for our tent, we heard the men disputing. They were -seated in a circle near our pile of goods. High Backbone had lighted a -pipe. - -“I say we should go across the river and get the meat we staged -yesterday,” said Crow-Flies-High. Others said, “No, there is better -hunting on this side. Let us go at once and find the herd.” And all -took their guns and hastened off but High Backbone, who stayed to -guard the camp. We were afraid enemies might also be following the -herd. - -But the hunters returned at evening without having seen buffalo sign, -and hungry—so hungry that they ate up half our store of meat. After -supper, Crow-Flies-High called them to another council. “I told you we -should get the meat we staged,” he said. “The gods gave us that meat. -We should not waste it.” - -We recrossed the river the next morning and fetched back most of the -staged meat and skins, reaching camp again in the early part of the -afternoon. Too busy to stop and eat, we spent the rest of the day -building stages and staking out the green hides to dry. - -[Illustration] - -The next day we found to our joy that the wind had shifted to the west. -Our stages were now hung with slices of drying meat, and we had built -slow fires beneath. An east wind would have carried the smoke toward -the herd and stampeded it. - -[Illustration] - -It was evening and getting dusk when Son-of-a-Star came into the tent, -saying, “Buffaloes are on a bluff a quarter of a mile up the river. I -can see them moving against the sky line.” We listened and heard the -bulls roaring; so we knew a herd was coming in. - -We were careful to chop no wood that evening, nor do anything to make -a noise. We smothered our fires, and we fed our dogs; for, with gorged -stomachs, they would be sleepy and not bark. If a dog stirred in the -night, one of us went out and quieted him. - -We made another crossing the next morning to fetch over the last of the -meat we had staged. We returned about noon. The first woman to climb -the bank under our camp was Scar’s wife, Blossom. She dropped her pack -and came running back, her hands at each side of her head with two -fingers crooked, like horns, the sign for buffaloes. - -We hastened into camp and saw the buffaloes a quarter of a mile away, -swarming over a bluff. There was a bit of bad-land formation below, -round-topped buttes with grassy stretches between. In these lower -levels the sun had started the grass, and I think the buffaloes were -coming down into them to seek pasture. - -Our hunters had come up from the boats, guns in hand, and set off at -once, creeping up the coulees from the lee side, that the buffaloes -might not wind them. Presently I saw a flash and a puff of smoke; then -another, and another; and the reports came echoing down the river -basin, _poh—poh—poh—poh, poh, poh!_ like thunder, away off. The herd -took to their heels. Buffaloes, when alarmed, usually run up-wind; but, -as the wind had shifted again to the east, this would have taken the -herd into the river; so they swerved off and went tearing away toward -the north. - -The hunters returned before evening. Son-of-a-Star was the first to -come in. “I shot two fat cows,” he cried. “I have cut up the meat and -put it in a pile, covered with the skins.” He had brought back the -choice cuts, however, the tongues, kidneys and hams. We ate the kidneys -raw. - -In the morning we harnessed our dogs and went out to the butchering -place. As we neared my husband’s meat pile, I saw that he had driven -a stick into the ground and tied his headcloth to it, like a flag. -This was to keep away the wolves. There were many of them in the -Missouri-river country then. - -While the flag fluttered and they winded the human smell, wolves would -not touch the meat pile. - -Sometimes in the fall, when hunters were cutting up a dead buffalo, I -have seen wolves, coyotes, and foxes, a half hundred maybe, stalking -about or seated just out of bow shot, awaiting the time the hunters -left. All then rushed in to gorge on the offal. The wolves often -snarled and bit at one another as they ate. - -All these animals were great thieves; but the kit foxes, I think, were -boldest. I was once with a hunting party, sleeping at night in a tent, -when I awoke, hearing some one scream. A kit fox had stolen into the -tent and walked over the bare face of one of the sleeping women. She -was terribly vexed. “That bad fox stepped his foot in my mouth,” she -cried angrily. In the morning we found the fox had made off with some -of our meat. - -Son-of-a-Star uncovered his meat pile, and helped me load our travois, -binding each load to its basket with thongs. By long use I knew how -heavy a load each of my dogs was able to drag. When I thought the -travois held enough, I lifted its poles and tried the weight with my -hands. - -My husband and I packed loads on our own backs. Mine, I remember, was a -whole green buffalo cow skin, a side of ribs and a tongue. This was a -heavy load for a woman, and my husband scolded me roundly when we came -in to camp. “That is foolish,” he said. “You will hurt your back.” I -liked to work, however, and I wanted to show the older women how much I -could carry. - -[Illustration] - -We remained in the camp about ten days. The men would hunt until they -made a kill. Then we harnessed our dogs, and all went out to fetch in -the meat. To do this took us about half a day. At other times, when not -drying meat, we women busied ourselves making bull boats, to freight -our meat down the river. - -I have said that I had brought one boat up from the village on one -of my dogs. I now made another. There were some _mahoheesha_ willows -growing near the camp. I made the boat frame of these, covering it with -the green hide of a buffalo cow. _Mahoheesha_ willows are light, tough, -and bend to any shape. They make good boat ribs. - -When ready to move camp, I carried my new boat down to the river, -turned over my head like a big hat. At the water’s edge I drove a stout -stake into the mud, and to this I fastened the floating boat with a -short thong. - -Skins and dried meat had been made up into small bales. I packed these -to the boat on my back, using a two-banded packing strap. As the river -was not far from our camp and the bank not very steep, I did not think -this task a hard one. - -When the boat was filled, I covered the load neatly with a piece of -old tent skin, and to the tail of the boat, I lashed my three travois. -The buffalo skin covering a bull boat was so laid that the tail was -to the rear of the boat. For this reason we often spoke of the boat’s -_head_ and _tail_. - -[Illustration] - -Meanwhile, Son-of-a-Star fetched the boat I had brought up from the -village, and I bound it to the head of my newer boat. We were now ready -to embark. I waded out, climbed into the empty, or passenger, boat, and -called to my dogs. They leaped in beside me. - -Son-of-a-Star took off his moccasins and rolled up his leggings. He -handed me his gun, loosed the thong that bound the boats to the stake, -pushed the boats into deeper water, and climbed in. I handed him his -paddle. - -I had hewn this paddle from a cottonwood log, only the day before. My -own, lighter and better made, I had brought with me from the village. -Each paddle had a large hole cut in the center of the blade. Without -this hole, a paddle wobbled in the current. - -On the front of my paddle blade, Son-of-a-Star had painted a part of -his war record, hoof prints as of a pony, and moccasin tracks such as -a man makes with his right foot. Hoof and footprints had each a wound -mark, as of flowing blood. Son-of-a-Star had drawn these marks with his -finger, dipped in warm buffalo fat and red ochre. - -The marks were for a brave deed of my husband. He once rode against a -party of Sioux, firing his gun, when a bullet went through his right -thigh, and killed his horse. The footprints with the wound marks meant -that Son-of-a-Star had been shot in his right leg. - -On his own paddle my husband had marked a cross within bars. These -meant, “I was one of four warriors to count _strike_ on an enemy.” - -[Illustration] - -It was an Indian custom to mark a warrior’s honors, much as a soldier -wears stripes for the wounds he has had. I was quite proud of the marks -on my paddles. I was a young woman, remember, and I thought, “Not every -woman has a husband as brave as mine.” - -Just before I got into my boat I had paused to wash my sweaty face -in the river, and, with a little ochre and buffalo fat, I painted my -cheeks a bright red. I thought this made me look handsome; and, too, -the paint kept my face from being tanned by the sun, for I had a light -skin. In those days everybody painted, and came to feasts with handsome -faces, red or yellow. Now we follow white men’s ways, and we go about -with faces pale, like ghosts from the Dead village. I think that is why -some tribes call white men _pale-faces_; because they do not paint and -are pale like ghosts. - -Altogether there were eleven boats in our fleet, two to each couple -except Scar and his wife, who had but one. At that, their one boat -was enough, for they had small store of meat or skins to take home. -They were a young couple and thought more of having a good time than of -doing any hard work. - -We had launched our boats in a tiny bay, and our paddles, dipping into -the quiet backwater, sent the waves rippling against the shore. It was -a crisp spring morning, and the sun, rising almost in our faces, threw -a broad band of gold over the water. In the shadow of the opposite -bank, a pelican was fishing. He paused to gaze at us, his yellow beak -laid against his white plumage; then calmly went to fishing again. Out -in mid-current, an uprooted tree swept by, and our skin boats, as they -swung out of the bay, passed a deadhead that bobbed up and down, up and -down. Then with a roar, the current caught us and bore us swiftly away. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - SIXTEENTH CHAPTER - - HOMEWARD BOUND - - -When using her bull boat to cross over the river, a woman knelt in -the bow and dipped her paddle in front of her; but, with a second and -freighted boat in tow, my husband and I paddled, seated one at each -side of our boat. We had not much need to use our paddles as long as we -rode the current. - -Crow-Flies-High led the way. We had gone, I think, an hour or two, and -Crow-Flies-High’s boat was rounding a point, when I saw him rise to his -knees and back water with his paddle. My husband and I speeded up; and, -as we came near, Crow-Flies-High pointed to the bank just below the -point. It was thickly covered with buffaloes. - -Scar’s wife put her hand to her mouth for astonishment, but made no -sound. If buffaloes have not good sight, they have keen ears; and she -knew better than to cry out. - -A bit of woodland stretched along the shore farther on. Crow-Flies-High -signed for us to follow, and we floated silently down to the end of the -woods, where the trees hid us from the herd. The men sprang out and -held the boats while we women landed. - -The bank was high and rather steep, but at its foot was a narrow bench -of sand a foot or more above the water’s level. We hastily unloaded our -boats and dragged them out upon this sand. - -Along the Missouri’s edge are always to be found dead-and-dry willow -sticks, left there by the falling current. I gathered an armful of -these, and, having climbed the bank, laid them together in a kind of -floor. Son-of-a-Star now helped me fetch up our bundles, and we piled -them on this willow floor. He also brought up my two boats. These I -turned, bottom up, over my pile of bundles, to keep off frost and rain. - -The men now seized their guns and hastened off after the buffaloes. It -was about noon. I think we had spent less than an hour unloading the -boats and packing them and our stuff to the top of the bank. - -While our hunters were stalking the herd, we women stayed in camp, -keeping very quiet, and stilling the dogs if they whined or barked. -Before long we heard the _poh-poh-poh!_ of guns, and knew the herd -was started. We now arose and began gathering sticks for a fire. I -think the first man to return struck fire for us, and we got dinner. - -[Illustration] - -We did not trouble to set up our tent. “The weather is not cold,” -said Crow-Flies-High’s wife. “We can sleep in the open air.” I cut -buck-brush bushes and spread a robe over them for my bed. Dry grass -stuffed under one end of the robe did for a pillow. My covering was a -pair of buffalo skins. We were weary and went to bed early. The night -was clear; and, with the fresh river air blowing in my face, I soon -fell asleep. - -We were astir the next morning at an early hour. While Son-of-a-Star -started a fire, I went to fill my copper kettle at the river. My -husband had asked me to boil him some meat, for the broth; for in old -times we Indians drank broth instead of coffee. - -The river’s roar, I thought, sounded louder than usual; and, when I -reached the edge of the high bank, I saw that the current was thronged -with masses of ice. This amazed me, for the river had been running free -for a fortnight. The Missouri is never a silent stream, and now to -the roar of its waters was added the groaning and crashing of the ice -cakes, as they grated and pounded one another in the current. - -[Illustration] - -When the Missouri is running ice, the mid-current will be thronged, -well-nigh choked, with ice masses, but near the banks, where are -shallows, the water will be free, since here the stream is not deep -enough to float the ice chunks. On the side of the river under our camp -was a margin of ice-free water of this kind; and I now saw, out near -the edge of the floating ice, two bull boats bound together, with a -woman in the foremost, paddling with all her might. She was struggling -to keep from being caught in the ice and crushed. - -I ran down the bank to the bench of sand below, just as the boats -came sweeping by. The woman saw me and held out her paddle crying, -“Daughter, save me!” I seized the wet blade, and tugging hard, drew -the boats to shore. The woman was _Amaheetseekuma_,[27] or Lies-on -Red-Hill, a woman older than I, and my friend. - - [27] A mä hēēt´ sēē kṳ mä - -Lies-on-Red-Hill, though rather fat, scrambled quickly out of the boat -and began tumbling her bundles out upon the sand. The other women of -our party now came down, and we helped my friend carry her bundles up -to the camp. - -As we sat by the fire, wringing and drying her moccasins, -Lies-on-Red-Hill told us her story: “My husband, Short Bull, and I were -hunting buffaloes. We dried much meat, which I loaded in my two boats, -to freight down the river. While I paddled, Short Bull was to go along -the shore with our horses. ‘We will meet at Beaver Wood,’ he said, ‘and -camp.’ But I did not find him at Beaver Wood. Then ice came. I was -afraid to camp alone, and tried to paddle down stream, keeping near the -shore, where was no ice. More ice came, and I feared I should be upset -and drown.” - -[Illustration] - -It was not until afterwards, when we reached our village, that we -learned why Short Bull did not meet his wife. He got to Beaver Wood -ahead of her. Not finding her, and thinking she had passed him, he went -on to the place where they had agreed to make their second camping. -When again she did not come, he became alarmed, and returned up the -river looking for her. In the morning he saw the river was full of ice. -“She is drowned,” he thought. And he went on to Like-a-Fishhook village. - -Lies-on-Red-Hill’s father was an old man named Dried Squash. He was -fond of his daughter, and, when he heard she was drowned, he put her -squash basket on his back and went through the village weeping and -crying out, “Lies-on-Red-Hill, dear daughter, I shall never see you -again.” He wanted to leap into the river and die, but his friends held -him. - -Lies-on-Red-Hill rested in our camp two days. The third morning the -river was running free again, and she loaded her boats and paddled off -down stream. The rest of us stayed one more day, to finish drying and -packing our meat. Then we, too, loaded our boats and started down the -river. - -We floated with the current, and the second day sighted Stands-Alone -Point, or Independence, as white men now call it. Here a party of -Mandans were just quitting camp. They pushed their boats into the -current and caught up with us. “We knew you were coming,” they said. -“Lies-on-Red-Hill told us. She passed us yesterday.” - -Our united party floated safely down until we were two miles below what -is now Elbowoods. Here, to our astonishment, we found that the current -was hardly running, and the water was backing up and flooding the -shores. We rounded a point of land, and saw what was the matter. Ice, -brought down on the current, had jammed, bridging the river and partly -damming it. - -Fearing to go farther, we were bringing our boats to land, when we -heard the sound of a gun and voices calling to us. On the opposite -shore stood two white men, waving handkerchiefs. - -We paddled across and landed. The white men, we found, were traders, -who had married Indian women. They had a flat boat, loaded with buffalo -skins and furs. With them was Lies-on-Red-Hill. One of the traders we -Indians had named Spots, because he had big freckles on his face. - -Like-a-Fishhook village was yet about fifteen miles away. While the -rest of our party waited, one of the men went afoot, to notify our -relatives. They came about noon, the next day, with ponies and saddles -to help us bring home our goods. The saddles were pack saddles, made -with horn frames. - -It took four ponies to pack the dried meat and skins my husband and I -had brought. I loaded my boats on the travois of two of my dogs. - -We reached Like-a-Fishhook village at sunset. Lies-on-Red-Hill came -with us, to the great joy of her father. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - SEVENTEENTH CHAPTER - - AN INDIAN PAPOOSE - - -My father was overjoyed to see me and my husband again, and he was glad -for the store of meat that we brought. We had a real feast the next -day. I boiled green corn, shelled from the cob and dried the summer -before, and packed away in skin bags. We were fond of this corn, and -had little of it left. Strikes-Many Woman parched ripe sweet corn, -pounded it in a mortar with roast buffalo fats, and kneaded the meal -into little balls. - -With these corn messes and boiled dried buffalo meat we made a big -feast and called in all our relatives. To each woman guest, as she went -away again, I gave a bundle of dried buffalo meat; and I thus gave away -one of the four pony-loads of meat I had brought home. It was an Indian -custom that, when a hunter brought in meat of a deer or buffalo, it -belonged to his wife; and we should have thought her a bad woman, if -she did not feast her relatives and give to them. - -My father sat with his cronies at the right of the fireplace, at our -feast. We women ate apart, for men and women do not sit together at an -Indian feast. I heard my father talking with his friend, Lean Wolf: -“Every spring, when I was young, we fired the prairie grass around the -Five Villages. Green grass then sprang up; buffaloes came to graze on -it, and we killed many.” - -“Those were good days,” said Lean Wolf. “There were many buffaloes -then.” - -“It is so,” said my father. “It is now seven years since a herd was -seen near our village. White men’s guns have driven them away. And each -year we kill fewer deer.” - -“I have heard that some Sioux families starved last winter,” said Lean -Wolf. - -“They starved, because they are hunters and raise no corn,” said my -father. “We Hidatsas must plant more corn, or we shall starve; and we -must learn to raise white men’s wheat and potatoes.” Small Ankle was a -progressive old man. - -One morning, not long after our feast, Red Blossom came in from the -woods with news that the wild gooseberry vines were in leaf. This was a -sign that corn planting time was come, and we women began to make ready -our corn seed and sharpen our hoes. - -I had been thinking of my father’s words to Lean Wolf. “They are wise -words,” I told my mothers. “We should widen our fields, and plant more -corn.” While they busied themselves with planting, I worked with my -hoe around the edges of our two fields, breaking new ground. - -Having thus more ground to work over, my mothers planted for more than -a month, or well into June. The last week of our planting, Red Blossom -soaked her corn seed in tepid water. “It will make the seed sprout -earlier,” she said, “so that the ears will ripen before frost comes.” - -Our fall harvest was good. My two mothers and I were more than a week -threshing and winnowing our corn; but some families, less wise than -ours, had not increased their planting, and had none too much grain to -lay by for winter. This troubled our chief men. “The summer’s hunt has -been poor,” they said. “If our winter’s hunting is not better, we shall -be hungry before harvest comes again.” - -They had twice called a council to talk of the matter, when scouts -brought word that buffaloes had been seen. “Big herds have come down -into the Yellowstone country,” they said. The Black Mouths thought -we should make our winter camp there, in tepees; and they went about -choosing a winter chief. - -But no one wanted to be winter chief. Camping in the Yellowstone -country in skin tents, was not like our wintering in earth lodges in -the woods near our village. The people expected their chief’s prayers -to keep enemies away and bring them good hunting. If ill luck came to -any in the camp, they blamed the winter chief. - -The Black Mouths offered gifts to one or another of our chief men, -whose prayers we knew were strong; but none would take them. At last, -they gave half the gifts to _Eydeeahkata_,[28] and half to Short Horn. -“You shall take turns at being chief,” they said. “_Eydeeahkata_ shall -lead one day and Short Horn the next.” - - [28] E̱y dēē äh´ kä tä - -The two leaders chose Red Kettle to be their crier. The evening before -we started he went through the village crying, “We move to-morrow at -sunrise. Get ready.” - -Our way led up the Missouri, above the bluffs; and most of the time -we were within sight of the river. Now and then, if the current made -a wide bend, we took a shorter course over the prairie. _Eydeeahkata_ -and Short Horn went ahead, each with a sacred medicine bundle bound to -his saddle bow. The camp followed in a long line. Some rode ponies, but -most went afoot. We camped at night in our tepees. - -[Illustration] - -We made our eleventh camp on the north side of the Missouri, a few -miles below the mouth of the Yellowstone. Here the Missouri is not -very wide, and its sloping banks make a good place for crossing. A low -bank of clean, hard sand lay along the water’s edge. We pitched our -tents about noon on this sand. There were about a hundred tepees. They -stood in rows, like houses, for there was not room on the sand to make -a camping circle. - -Small Ankle pitched his tent near the place chosen for the crossing. -The day was windy and chill. With flint-and-steel my father struck -a fire, and we soon had meat boiling. After our dinner he drove his -horses to pasture. - -Strikes-Many Woman fetched dry grass for our beds, spreading it thickly -on the floor against the tent wall. On the edges of the beds next the -fireplace she laid small logs, to keep in the grass bedding and to -catch any flying sparks from the fire. - -The wind died at evening. Twilight fell, and the coals in the fireplace -cast a soft, red glow on the tent walls. I sat near the tent door. With -robe drawn over my shoulders to keep off the chill, I raised the skin -door and looked out. The new moon, narrow and bent like an Indian bow, -shone white over the river, and the waves of the swift mid-current -sparkled silvery in the moonlight. I could hear the swish of eddies, -the lap-lapping of the waves rolling shoreward. Over all rose the roar, -roar, roar of the great river, sweeping onward we Indians knew not -where. - -[Illustration: Plate III.—“With horn spoon she filled her mouth with -water.”] - -My dogs were sleeping without, snugged against the tent for warmth. -At midnight one of them stirred, pointed his nose at the moon and -broke into a howl. The howl soon grew to a chorus, for every dog -in the camp joined in. Far out on the prairie rose the wailing -_yip-yip-yip-yip-ya-a-ah!_[29] of a coyote. The dogs grew silent again, -and curled up, nose-in-tail, to sleep. - - [29] yĭp yĭp yĭp yĭp yä´ ä äh - -And my little son came into the world. - -The morning sky was growing light when Son-of-a-Star came into the -tent. His eyes were smiling as he stepped to the fireplace, for they -saw a pretty sight. Red Blossom was giving my baby a bath. - -She had laid him on a piece of soft skin, before the fire. With horn -spoon she filled her mouth with water, held it in her cheeks until it -was warm, and blew it over my baby’s body. I do not think he liked his -bath, for he squalled loudly. - -My husband laughed. “It is a lusty cry,” he said. “I am sure my son -will be a warrior.” - -Having bathed my baby, Red Blossom bound him in his wrapping skins. She -had a square piece of tent cover, folded and sewed along the edges of -one end into a kind of sack. Into this she slipped my baby, with his -feet against the sewed end. About his little body she packed cattail -down. - -On a piece of rawhide, she put some clean sand, which she heated by -rolling over it a red-hot stone. She packed this sand under my baby’s -feet; and, lest it prove too hot, she slipped a piece of soft buckskin -under them. - -Over all she bound a wildcat skin, drawing the upper edge over the -baby’s head, like a hood. - -The hot sand was to keep my baby warm. This and the cattail down we -placed in a baby’s wrappings only in winter, when on a journey. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - EIGHTEENTH CHAPTER - - THE VOYAGE HOME - - -Meanwhile Small Ankle and other members of the family were making ready -to cross. “We must hasten,” my father said. “Ice chunks are running on -the current this morning. This shows that up in the mountains the river -is freezing over and cold weather is setting in.” - -My mothers began packing soon after breakfast and Son-of-a-Star came -in to say that he would take me across in our bull boat; for we had -brought one with us from the village. Old Turtle began unpinning the -tent cover while I was still inside. She made the tent poles into a -bundle and bound them at the tail of the boat. I stepped in with my -baby in my arms and my husband paddled the boat across. - -Son-of-a-Star helped me up the bank on the other side and gave me a -place to sit where I could watch the crossing. I folded a robe to sit -upon, and, with another robe drawn snugly over my shoulders and my baby -in my arms, I felt comfortable and warm. - -My husband even made a small fire in a hollow place in the ground -near-by. One of my women friends boiled some meat and gave me the hot -broth to drink; for I was weary with the work of crossing and caring -for my babe. - -There were not enough boats in the camp for all the people. Most of the -old people and little children were brought over in boats, and some -of the camp goods; but many families floated their stuff over in tent -covers, and, cold as was the water, many of the men swam. - -I had left my two mothers and old Turtle loading their tent cover. -Turtle had made a big noose in the end of a lariat and laid it on the -sand. Over this she spread the skin cover, a large one. She bent a -green willow into a hoop, laid it on the tent cover, and within the -hoop piled most of our camp goods. She now gathered the edges of the -cover together over the pile, drew tight the noose, and tied it firm. -This tent-cover bundle my mothers and old Turtle pushed out into the -water as a kind of raft. The willow hoop gave the raft a flat bottom so -that it did not turn over in the water. - -The lariat that bound the mouth of the raft was fastened to the tail of -a pony we had named Shaggy, and the end was carried into and about the -pony’s mouth like a halter. Shaggy was driven into the stream and swam -across, towing the raft. The lariat was fastened to his tail so that, -if the raft was swept down stream by the current, it would not drag the -pony’s head, and turn him from his course. - -[Illustration] - -As I have said, many families floated their goods over in these -tent-cover rafts; and not a few women, in haste to cross, swam clinging -to their rafts. One woman put her little four-year-old son on the top -of her raft, while she swam behind, pushing and guiding it. Another old -woman, named Owl Ear, mounted her raft and rode astraddle. Her pony -landed in a place where the shore was soft with oozy mud, so that he -could not climb out. Owl Ear had to wade in the mud up to her middle to -get her raft ashore; and when she was climbing out she slipped and sat -down backwards again in the ooze. She came up sputtering mud from her -mouth and much vexed with herself. “I think there must be bad spirits -in that mud, and they are trying to pull me back,” she called to me, as -she came waddling up the steep bank. - -Before evening my mothers had brought all their camp goods across. They -raised the poles of our tent and drew on the cover. It was wet, but -soon dried in the wind. We built a fire inside. My baby had wakened up -and was crying. I loosened his wrapping and warmed him by the tent -fire, and he soon fell asleep. Red Blossom dug a hole, slipped into it -a kind of sack of raw hide, for a mortar. We had brought a pestle with -us from the village, and with this we pounded parched corn to a meal to -boil with beans. We ate a late supper and went to bed. - -We camped on the bank three days, until all had crossed. Our chiefs -would not remain longer, for they wanted to get into winter camp before -snow fell; and, on the morning of the fourth day, we struck tents and -made ready to march. - -[Illustration] - -There was a mule in our family herd, a slow-going, gentle beast, that -I had bought of a Sioux for a worthless pony and some strings of corn. -Son-of-a-Star harnessed this mule to a travois, and my baby and I -rode. Had our march been in olden days, I should have had to go afoot, -carrying my baby on my back. - -My husband had spread a heavy bull-skin robe over the travois basket -and set me on it, with another skin folded under me for a cushion. -Through holes in the edge of the bull skin Son-of-a-Star passed a -lariat; and when I was seated, with my baby in my arms and my robe -belted snugly about us, my husband drew the lariat, drawing the bull -skin about my knees and ankles. The day was windy and cold, and the -bull skin kept the chill air from me and my babe. - -Our leaders had chosen for our winter camp a place called Round Bank, -on a small stream named Bark Creek. There were no trees here for -building earth lodges, so we camped in our tepees, pitching them in a -hollow, to shelter them from the wind. The ground was frozen so that we -could not peg our tents to the ground, but laid stones around the edges -of the tent covers. Such was our older-fashioned way. We did not use -wooden tent pegs much until after we got iron axes. - -My mothers fetched dry grass into our tent for our beds, and made a -fire under the smoke hole. A tepee was kept warm with a rather small -fire, if it was well sheltered from the wind. - -Ours was a big tent, for we had a big family. With my two half -brothers, Bear’s Tail and Wolf Chief, and their wives; and Red Kettle, -Full House, and Flies Low, younger sons of Red Blossom and Strikes-Many -Woman, we numbered fourteen in all. This was a large number for one -tent. Ten were as many as a tepee usually sheltered. Every member of -the family had his own bed, where he slept at night and sat in the -daylight hours. - -My little son was ten days old the second day we were in winter camp; -and, though we were hardly well settled, I found time to make ready his -naming feast. Having filled a wooden bowl with venison and boiled dried -green corn—foods I knew well were to his liking—I set it before Small -Ankle. - -“I want you to name your grandson,” I said to him. - -[Illustration] - -Small Ankle ate, thinking the while what name he should give my son. -Then he arose and took my baby tenderly in his arms, saying, “I name -him _Tsakahka Sukkee_,[30] Good Bird.” Small Ankle’s gods were birds, -and the name was a kind of prayer that they remember and help my little -son. - - [30] Tsä käh´ kä Sŭk´ kēē - -Winter passed without mishap to us. We had found no buffaloes on the -Yellowstone; but our hunters thrice discovered small herds near our -camp and brought in meat; and a good many deer were killed. - -Rather early in the spring, the women of the Goose Society danced and -hung up meat for the goose spirits, praying them for good weather for -corn planting. Then we all broke camp. - -Most of the tribe returned to the Yellowstone for the spring hunt, but -my father wanted to go up the Missouri. “We have not found the herds -our scouts saw in the fall,” he said. “I am sure they are farther up -the river.” One Buffalo and his family joined us and we went up the -river and made camp. A small herd was sighted and ten buffaloes were -killed. - -We were building stages to dry the meat when four more tents caught up -with us, those of Strikes Backbone, Old Bear, Long Wing, and Spotted -Horn, and their families. To each tent owner my father gave a whole -green buffalo hide and a side of meat. The hides were for making bull -boats, for we were planning to return home by water. - -Ice broke on the Missouri and flocks of wild ducks began coming north. -My mothers were eager to be home in time for the spring planting. I -made four new boats, giving one of them to my father, and we made ready -to go. - -Son-of-a-Star partly loaded one of my boats with dried meat, and put -in his gun and ax. A second boat, also partly loaded, he lashed to the -first; and a third, loaded to the gunwale with meat and hides, he bound -to the tail of the second. In this second boat sat my half brother, -Flies Low, a seventeen-year-old lad, with my baby in his arms. My -husband and I sat in the first boat and paddled. - -There were eleven boats in the six families of our party. One or two -families, having no meat to freight, rode in single boats. My father -and two of the men did not come in the boats, but rode along the bank, -driving our horses. They kept back near the foot hills, but in sight of -the river. - -We were in no haste, and we made a jolly party as we floated down the -broad current. At night we paddled to the shore. The men joined us with -the horses, and we camped under the stars. - -The Missouri is a swift stream, and at places we found the waves were -quite choppy. Especially if a bend in the river carried the current -against the wind, the waves rolled and foamed, rocking our boats and -threatening to swamp us. At such times we drew together, catching hold -of one another’s boats. Thus bunched, our fleet rode the choppy current -more safely than a single boat could have done. - -The weather had set in rather warm when we left our winter camp and the -grass had already begun to show green on the prairie. But, as we neared -the mouth of the Little Missouri, a furious storm of snow and wind -arose. The storm blew up suddenly, and, as we rounded a bend in the -river, we rode into the very teeth of the wind. - -Son-of-a-Star shouted to me to turn in to the shore, though I could -hardly hear his voice above the wind. We plied our paddles with all our -might. Suddenly my husband stopped paddling and leaned over the side of -the boat, nigh upsetting it. “_Eena, eena_”[31] I cried, scared nearly -out of my wits, and I grasped at the boat’s edge to keep from being -tumbled in upon him. Then I saw what was the matter. My husband was -lifting my little son out of the water. - - [31] ēē nä´ - -I have said that Flies Low sat in our second boat, with my little son -in his arms. The baby had grown restless, and Flies Low had loosened -the babe’s wrappings to give freedom of his limbs. A sudden billow -rocked the boat, throwing Flies Low against the side and tumbling my -little son out of his arms into the water. - -[Illustration] - -His loosened wrappings, by some good luck, made my baby buoyant, so -that he floated. He was crying lustily when my husband drew him out; -but he was not strangling, and under his wraps he was not even wet. - -“I could not help it,” said Flies Low afterwards. “The boat seemed to -turn over, and the baby fell out of my arms.” We knew this was true and -said nothing more of it. - -Our party reached shore without further mishap. We hastily unpacked two -tents; and, while some busied themselves pitching them, others gathered -wood and made fires. - -That night the snow turned to a cold rain, which the next day turned -again into a heavy snow. The summer birds had come north, and after the -storm was over we found many of them frozen to death. It snowed for -four days. - -Small Ankle and his brother, Charging Enemy, were driving their horses -along the bank when the storm overtook them. They did not stop to camp -with us, but pushed on through the storm to Like-a-Fishhook village. -They reached the village safely and drove their horses down into the -thick timber out of the cold wind. There was a pond there, and the -horses found it warmer to wade out into the water than to stand on the -bank in the cold rain. But after a while, grown weary with standing, -they came out; and, as the wind was blowing a gale, the horses were -chilled and three of them died. Many others of our village herd died in -the same way. - -Our own party, as soon as the storm was over, re-embarked and floated -safely down to Like-a-Fishhook village. - - - - -[Illustration] - - AFTER FIFTY YEARS - - -I am an old woman now. The buffaloes and black-tail deer are gone, and -our Indian ways are almost gone. Sometimes I find it hard to believe -that I ever lived them. - -My little son grew up in the white man’s school. He can read books, and -he owns cattle and has a farm. He is a leader among our Hidatsa people, -helping teach them to follow the white man’s road. - -He is kind to me. We no longer live in an earth lodge, but in a house -with chimneys; and my son’s wife cooks by a stove. - -But for me, I cannot forget our old ways. - -Often in summer I rise at daybreak and steal out to the cornfields; -and as I hoe the corn I sing to it, as we did when I was young. No one -cares for our corn songs now. - -Sometimes at evening I sit, looking out on the big Missouri. The sun -sets, and dusk steals over the water. In the shadows I seem again -to see our Indian village, with smoke curling upward from the earth -lodges; and in the river’s roar I hear the yells of the warriors, the -laughter of little children as of old. It is but an old woman’s dream. -Again I see but shadows and hear only the roar of the river; and tears -come into my eyes. Our Indian life, I know, is gone forever. - -[Illustration] - - - - - GLOSSARY OF INDIAN WORDS - - English equivalents are in italics - - - Ä hä he̱y´ An exclamation; _Ho there!_ - Ä hä hṳts´ _They come against us._ - Ä kēē´ kä hēē _Took-from-Him_; name of a dog. - Ä lä lä lä lä´ Cry of triumph by women; made by curling the - tip of the tongue backward and vibrating - it against the roof of the mouth. - Ä mä hēēt´ sēē kṳ mä _Lies-on-Red-Hill_; name of a woman. - Ēē´ kṳ pä _Chum_. - Ēē nä´ An exclamation. - Ēēt sēē pä däh´ pä kēē _Foot moving_; name of a game. - Ēēt sṳ´ tä Name of the large tendon of a buffalo’s neck. - E̱y An exclamation. - E̱y dēē äh´ kä tä Name of an Indian. - Hau (how) The Indian salutation. - He̱y dä e̱y´ An exclamation of pleasure. - Hwēē _Hasten_; an exclamation. - Mä hō´ hēē shä A species of willow. - Mä kṳt´ sä tēē _Clan cousin._ - Mä pēē´ _Meal made by pounding._ - Mä pṳk´ sä ō kï hĕ _Snake Head-Ornament_; a man’s name. - Mēē dä´ hēē kä _Gardeners’ songs._ - Mēē dēē päh´ dēē _Rising water_; name of a Hidatsa clan, or - band. - Näh _Go, come._ - Nä kä päh´ _Mush._ - O kēē mēē´ ä _Head-Ornament Woman_; a woman’s name. - Shēē´ pēē shä _Black._ - Sŭk´ kēēts (or Sŭkkēē) _Good._ - Tsä käh´ ka Sŭk´ kēē Name of Waheenee’s son; from _tsakahka_, - bird, and _sukkee_, good. - Tsïst´ skä _Prairie chicken._ - Ṳ´ ï The Hidatsa war whoop. - Wä hēē´ nēē _Cowbird_, or _Buffalo-bird_; name of the - Indian woman whose story is told in this - book. - Wē´ä _Woman._ - Wṳ ṳ ṳ Imitation of a dog’s bark. - Yĭ yĭ yĭ yĭ yäh´ A war cry of triumph, made with hand vibrated - over the mouth or against the throat. - Wē´ äh tēē A woman’s name. - - - - - EXPLANATORY NOTES - - -_Page 9, l. 24_: “We had corn a-plenty” The Hidatsas and Mandans -were the best agriculturists of the north-plains Indians. Varieties -of corn developed by them mature in the semi-arid climate of western -North Dakota where our better known eastern strains will not ripen. -The varieties include flint, flour, and a kind of sweet corn called -_maikadishake_,[32] or gummy, which the Indians use for parching. -Hidatsa seed planted at the United States Agricultural Experiment -Station at Bozeman, Montana, has made surprising yields. - - [32] mä´ ï kä dï shä kĕ - -_Page 10, l. 29_: “the ghost land.” A Hidatsa Indian believed he had -four ghosts. At death, one ghost went to the Ghost village, to live in -an earth lodge and hunt buffaloes as on earth; a second remained at the -grave until after a time it joined the first in the Ghost village where -they became one again. What became of the other two ghosts does not -seem to be known. - -_Page 11, l. 20_: “The march was led by the older chiefs.” A Hidatsa -chief was a man who by his war deeds, hospitality, and wisdom, came -to be recognized as one of the influential men of the tribe. He was -not necessarily an officer. When translating into English, Hidatsas -usually call the officer elected for any executive duty a _leader_, -as war-party leader, winter-camp leader, leader of the buffalo hunt. -It should be remembered that the activities of an Indian tribe are -decided in councils; and in these councils the eloquence and wisdom of -the chiefs had greatest weight. The Hidatsa word for chief, literally -translated, is excellent man, superior man. - -_Page 13, l. 8_: “At this hour fires burned before most of the tepees.” -In fall or winter the fire was within the tepee, under the smoke hole. - -_Page 15, l. 13_: “for a woman to ... begin building her earth lodge.” -While the work falling to an Indian woman was far from light, she did -not look upon herself as overburdened. Women were more kindly treated -by Hidatsas and Mandans than by some tribes. - -_Page 17, l. 28_: “dried prairie turnips.” The prairie turnip, -_psoralea esculenta_, is a starchy, bulbous root, growing rather -plentifully on the plains. Its food value is high. Attempts have been -made unsuccessfully to cultivate it. - -_Page 17, l. 30_: “June berries.” The June berry, _amelanchier -alnifolia_, is a small, hardwood tree, bearing sweet, dark-red berries. -Its branches were much used for making arrow shafts. - -_Page 21, l. 14_: “young men fasted and cut their flesh.” Such -self-inflicted tortures were not, as is often believed, for the -purpose of proving the warrior’s fortitude, but were made as a kind of -sacrifice to the gods that these might pity the devotee and answer his -prayers. See Bible, I Kings, XVIII; 28. - -_Page 24, l. 30_: “It was a long pipe with black stone bowl.” The stone -bowl was carved from a hard kind of grey clay, anointed with grease and -baked in a fire to turn it black. It took a high polish. - -_Page 35, l. 11_: “Telling tales ... in ... autumn and winter.” Tribal -myths, told of the gods, were often forbidden in summer when nature was -_alive_. In winter nature was _asleep_ or _dead_. One could talk of -sleeping spirits without fear of offending them. - -_Page 36, l. 5_: “Making ready her seed.” The Hidatsas used the -greatest care in selecting their seed corn. Only large and perfect ears -were chosen. The best ear for seed was the _eeteeshahdupadee_,[33] or -muffled-head, so called because the kernels cover the cob quite to the -tip, making the ear look like an Indian with his head muffled up in his -robe. - - [33] ēē tēē shä dṳ´ pä dēē - -_Page 36, l. 14_: “Wooden bowl.” In olden days almost every family -owned several of these feast bowls. A large knot was split out of a -tree trunk with wedges and, after being hollowed out with fire, was -slowly carved into shape with flint tools. Some of these bowls are -beautiful examples of carving. - -_Page 37, l. 16_: “Trying to parch an ear of corn.” Parched corn -entered largely into the diet of our corn raising Indians. Among -eastern tribes, a warrior set forth on a long journey with a sack of -parched corn pounded to a meal. When hungry, he swallowed a spoonful of -the parched meal, washing it down with a pint of water. In a short time -the meal had absorbed the water, filling the stomach with a digestible -mass like mush. - -Every farmer’s lad should put away some ears of ripened sweet corn in -the fall, to parch of a winter’s evening. Sweet corn was raised by the -Hidatsas and Mandans for parching only. - -_Page 38, l. 21_: “Ground beans,” or hog peanut; _amphicarpa falcata_. -These beans, like peanuts, are borne under ground. - -_Page 38, l. 22_: “Wild potatoes,” or Jerusalem artichoke. Roots of -_helianthus tuberosus_, a plant of the sunflower family. - -_Page 41, l. 25_: “Who had been a black bear.” Tradition has it that -the art and mysteries of trapping eagles were taught the Hidatsas by -the black bears. An eagle hunters’ camp was conducted as a kind of -symbolic play, the hunters acting the ceremonies of the delivery to the -Indians of the eagle-hunt mysteries. - -_Page 44, l. 17_: “Earth lodges well-built and roomy.” The earth lodge -of the Mandans and Hidatsas was the highest example of the building art -among our plains tribes. Some of these lodges were quite large, having -a height of eighteen feet or more, and a floor diameter exceeding sixty -feet. Usually two or more families of relatives inhabited the same -lodge. - -An earth lodge had four large central posts and beams, supporting the -roof; twelve surrounding posts and beams, supporting the eaves; and a -hundred rafters. The roof was covered with a matting of willows over -which was laid dry grass and a heavy coating of earth. - -An earth lodge lasted but about ten years, when it was abandoned or -rebuilt. The labor of building and repairing these imposing structures, -especially in days when iron tools were unknown and posts and beams had -to be burned to proper lengths, must have been severe. - -When the author first visited Fort Berthold reservation in 1906, there -were eight earth lodges still standing; in 1918 there were two. - -_Page 47, l. 18_: “An earthen pot.” The potter’s craft was practiced -professionally by certain women who had purchased the secrets of the -art. The craft was an important one, as much of Hidatsa cooking was by -boiling. Some of the earthen boiling pots held as much as two gallons. -A collection of earthen pots, fired in 1910 by Hides-and-Eats, a Mandan -woman nearly ninety years old, is in the American Museum of Natural -History. - -_Page 49, l. 18_: “From her cache pit.” The cache pit was a jug-shaped -pit within or without the lodge, six or eight feet deep. It was floored -with willow sticks and its walls were lined with dry grass. It was used -to store the fall harvest. - -Strings of braided ears were laid in series against the wall. Within -these was poured the threshed grain, in which were buried strings of -dried squash and sacks of beans and sunflower seed. Buffalo-Bird Woman -says there were five cache pits in use in her father’s family. - -Many families had a cache pit within the lodge to serve as a cellar. -Besides corn for immediate use, it held sacks of dried berries, prairie -turnips, packages of dried meat and even bladders of marrow fat. - -The pits without the lodge with their stores of grain were carefully -sealed with slabs and grass, over which were trampled earth and ashes. -This was done to conceal the pits from any Sioux who might come -prowling around when the tribe was away in winter camp. If a family -lacked food in winter, they returned to their summer village and opened -one of these cache pit granaries for its stores of corn. - -_Page 49, l. 31_: “Red Blossom pounded the parched corn ... in a -corn mortar.” The corn mortar, or hominy pounder, is a section of a -cottonwood or ash trunk, hollowed out by fire. The pestal is of ash. -The mortar was sunk in the floor of the earth lodge and covered, when -not in use, by a flat stone. - -Corn mortars are still used by the Hidatsas. Our grandmothers in -pioneer days also used them. - -_Page 51, l. 4_: “Chief.” A Hidatsa chief, as explained, was not -necessarily a tribal officer. His position was like that of an -influential citizen of a country village, who is often a member of -the local school or hospital board, is chosen to preside at patriotic -meetings, and is expected to extend hospitality and charity to those in -need. - -Hospitality, indeed, is the Indian’s crowning virtue. In tribal days, -when one had food, all had food; when one starved, all starved. A -reservation Indian does not like to take pay for a meal, especially -from one of his own race; and he can not comprehend how any white man -having food can let another go hungry. - -His hospitality is often a hindrance to the Indian’s progress. Indolent -Indians eat up the food stores of industrious relatives. - -_Page 56, l. 14_: “Dried meat pounded fine and mixed with marrow fat.” -This was regarded as a delicate dish. Old people especially were fond -of it. The plains Indians usually had sound teeth, but their coarse -diet wore the teeth down so that old men found it hard to eat dried -meat unless it was thus pounded to shreds. Marrow fat was used much as -we use butter. - -_Page 57, l. 1_: “A doll, woven of rushes.” Very good mats were also -woven of rushes. - -_Page 58, l. 4_: “Tossing in a blanket.” The blanket tossing game has -been found among widely separated peoples. In Don Quixote, we are told -how Sancho Panza unwilling participated in the game. - -_Page 66, l. 6_: “Every Hidatsa belonged to a clan.” The clan was, -nevertheless, relatively weak among the Hidatsas, its functions -apparently having been usurped at least in part by the age societies. -(The Black Mouths were an age society. See chapter V). - -In many tribes a man was forbidden to marry within his clan. - -_Page 68, l. 25_: “He was a great medicine man.” The story of Snake -Head-Ornament is a good example of the tales told of the old time -medicine men. Snake Head-Ornament’s friendship for the bull snake would -seem uncanny even to a white man. - -_Page 73, l. 1_: “In old times we Indian people had no horses.” - -At the time of America’s discovery the Indians had domesticated the -llama in the Peruvian highlands; the guinea pig, raised for food by -many South American tribes; turkeys, and even bees, in Mexico; dogs, -developed from wolves or coyotes, were universally domesticated among -the North American tribes. - -Indian dogs were used as watch dogs and as beasts of burden. Dog flesh -was eaten by many tribes. An edible, hairless variety of dog, bred by -the Mexican Indians has become extinct. - -_Page 77, l. 23_: “My grandmother brought in some fresh sage.” The sage -was a sacred plant. - -_Page 81, l. 10_: “Our dogs dragged well-laden travois.” Older Indians -say that a well-trained dog could drag a load of eighty pounds on a -travois. - -_Page 85, l. 6_: “The big tendon ... we Indians call the -_eetsuta_.”[34] When dried this tendon becomes hard, like horn; and -arrow points and even arrow shafts were carved from it. - - [34] ēēt sṳ´ tä - -_Page 87, l. 32_: “Coyote Eyes, a Ree Indian.” The Rees, or Arikaras, -are an offshoot of the Pawnee tribe, whose language they speak. They -removed to Fort Berthold reservation and settled there with the -Hidatsas and Mandans in 1862. - -_Page 92, l. 7_: “To embroider with quills of gull.” The tribe used -to make annual journeys to the lakes near Minot, North Dakota, where, -older Indians say, the gulls nested. The feathers were gathered along -the beach. The quill was split, the flat nether half being the part -used. Quills were dyed with native vegetable colors. - -_Page 99, l. 10_: “Bear Man was an eagle hunter.” The tail feathers -of the golden eagle were much worn by all the plains tribes. These -feathers, in eagles under two years of age, are of a pure white, with -dark brown or black tips, and were much prized. Eagle hunting was a -highly honored occupation. - -_Page 112, l. 17_: “The huskers came into the field yelling and -singing.” Buffalo-Bird Woman laughingly adds, that the yelling was by -young men who wanted their sweethearts to hear their voices. - -_Page 114, l. 2_: “The hollow buffalo hoofs rattled.” The earth lodge -door was a heavy buffalo skin, stretched when green on a frame of light -poles. It was swung from the beam above by heavy thongs. The puncheon -fire screen stood between it and the fireplace, about which the family -sat or worked. As the moccasined tread of a visitor made little noise, -a bunch or two of buffalo hoofs was hung to a bar running across the -middle of the door. - -The hoof was prepared by boiling and removing the pith. Its edges were -then trimmed and a hole was cut in the toe. Through this hole a thong -was run with a knotted end, to keep the hoof from slipping off. As the -door dropped after an entering visitor, the hollow hoofs fell together -with a clittering noise, warning the family. - -_Page 118, l. 28_: “Hanging Stone.” A literal translation of the -Hidatsa word. It refers to a form of war club, a short stick, from an -end of which swung a stone sewed in a piece of skin. - -_Page 125, l. 3_: “With ankles to the right, as Indian women sit.” A -warrior sat Turkish fashion, or, often, squat-on-heels. An Indian woman -sat with feet to the right unless she was left-handed, when feet were -to the left. - -_Page 125, l. 6_: “Mixed with marrow fat.” Marrow fat was obtained by -boiling the crushed bones of a buffalo in a little water. The yellow -marrow as it rose was skimmed off and stored in bladders or short -casings made of entrails, like sausage casings. - -_Page 126, l. 10_: “I have come to call you.” Buffalo-Bird Woman means -that her father invited his son-in-law to come and live in his earth -lodge. If he had not sent this invitation, the young couple would have -set up housekeeping elsewhere. - -_Page 128, l. 37_: “Only a strong, well-fed pony could go all day on -wet ground.” Nature designed the solid hoof of the horse for a prairie -or semidesert country. A pony finds it hard to withdraw his hoof in wet -spongy soil, and soon tires. A deer or buffalo, with divided hoof, runs -upon wet ground with comparative ease. Every farmer’s boy knows that an -ox will walk through a swamp in which a horse will mire. - -_Page 142, l. 26_: “With two fingers crooked like horns, the sign for -buffaloes.” So many languages were spoken by our Indian tribes, that -they found it necessary to invent a sign language so that Indians, -ignorant of each other’s speech, could converse. A well-trained deaf -mute and an old plains Indian can readily talk together by signs. - -_Page 143, l. 4_: “Creeping up the coulees.” A coulee in the Dakotas is -a grassy ravine, usually dry except in spring and autumn, and after a -heavy rain. - -_Page 157, l. 19_: “They starved, because they are hunters and raise -no corn.” The Hidatsas and Mandans as agriculturists felt themselves -superior to the hunting tribes. Small-Ankle refers here to the western, -or Teton, Sioux. The eastern Sioux were corn raisers. - -_Page 158, l. 10_: “My mothers and I were more than a week threshing.” -In the summer of 1912, the author had Buffalo-Bird Woman pace off on -the prairie the size of her mothers’ field, as she recollected it. It -measured one hundred and ninety yards in length by ninety yards in -width. Such were some of the fields which in olden days were cultivated -with wooden sticks and bone hoes. - - - - - SUPPLEMENT - - HOW TO MAKE AN INDIAN CAMP - - -Young Americans who wish to grow up strong and healthy should live much -out of doors; and there is no pleasanter way to do this than in an -Indian camp. Such a camp you can make yourself, in your back yard or an -empty lot or in a neighboring wood. - - - The Lodge - -Buffalo-Bird Woman has told us of the earth lodges of her people. They -were for permanent abode. Hunters, however, camping but a day or two in -a place, usually put up a pole hunting lodge. - -Four forked poles were stacked, as in Figure 1. - -[Illustration: Figure 1] - -[Illustration: Figure 2] - -Around these in a circle, other poles were laid, as in Figure 2, for a -frame. - -For cover buffalo skins, bound together at the edges, were drawn around -the frame in two series, the lower series being laid first. The peak of -the pole frame was left uncovered, to let out the smoke. - -Instead of buffalo skins, gunny sacks may be used, fastened at the -edges with safety pins or with wooden skewers; or strips of canvas or -carpet may be used. Three or four heavier poles may be laid against the -gunny-sack cover to stay it in place. - -The door may be made of a gunny sack, hung on a short pole. - -Indians often raised a piece of skin on a forked pole for a shield, to -keep the wind from driving the smoke down the smoke hole. - -Figure 3 shows the finished lodge with gunny-sack cover, door, and wind -shield. The last is made of a piece of oil cloth. - -[Illustration: Figure 3] - -[Illustration: Figure 4] - - - Booth - -Buffalo-Bird Woman tells of the booth which Turtle made in her -cornfield. A booth is easily made of willows or long branches. - -A short digging stick will be needed. This was of ash, a foot or two -in length, sharpened at one end by burning in a fire. The point was -often rubbed with fat and charred over the coals to harden it. (Such a -digging stick was not the kind used for cultivating corn.) - -[Illustration: Figure 5] - -[Illustration: Figure 6] - -If you have no ash stick, a section of a broom handle will do. - -With a stone, drive the digging stick four inches in the ground, as in -Figure 4. Withdraw digging stick and repeat until you have six holes -set in a circle. The diameter of the circle should be about five feet. - -Into the six holes set willows, or branches, five or six feet high, as -in Figure 5. - -Weave or bind tops together so as to make a leafy roof, or shade, as -in Figure 6. For binding, use strips of elm bark; or slender willows, -twisted, so as to break the fibers. - - - Fireplace - -Indians, when journeying, made the campfire outside the lodge in -summer; inside the lodge, in winter. Usually a slight pit was dug for -the fireplace, thus lessening danger of sparks, setting fire to prairie -or forest. The fire was smothered with earth when camp was forsaken. - -[Illustration: Figure 7] - -[Illustration: Figure 8] - - - Broiling Meat - -Indians broiled fresh meat on a stick thrust in the ground and leaning -over the coals. Often a forked stick was cut, the meat was laid on the -prongs, and it was held over the coals until broiled. In Figures 7 and -8 both methods are shown. - - -[Illustration: Figure 9] - - Drying Meat - -Buffalo-Bird Woman often speaks of dried buffalo meat. If you want to -know what it was like, cut a steak into thin pieces, and dry on a stage -of green sticks, three feet high. This may be done in the sun; or, a -small fire may be made beneath, to smoke as well as dry the meat. In -Figures 9 and 10 two forms of drying stage are shown. - - -[Illustration: Figure 10] - - Cooking Dried Meat - -A pail or small bucket will do for kettle. It should be swung from a -tripod by stick-and-thong, as in Figure 11. Put in dried meat with -enough water to cover, and bring to a boil. The broth may be used as -the Indians used it, for a drink. - - - Parching Corn - -Ripe sweet corn, thoroughly dried, is best for parching; but field corn -will do nearly as well. Drop a handful of the shelled corn in a skillet -with a little butter. Cover skillet and set on the fire. Shake skillet -from side to side to keep corn from scorching. - -In the earth lodge, Hidatsa women parched the grain in an earthen pot, -stirring it with a stick. Indian boys, when out herding horses, often -carried two or three ears of corn for lunch. An ear was parched by -thrusting a stick into the cob, and holding it over the coals, as in -Figure 12. - -[Illustration: Figure 11] - -[Illustration: Figure 12] - -A steak broiled Indian fashion over the coals, or a kettle of boiled -dried meat, with a cupful of parched corn, will make just such a meal -as Indians often ate. - - - - - HINTS TO YOUNG CAMPERS - - -Do not throw away bits of unused food, but burn or bury them. Unless -thus destroyed, the decaying food will attract insects, which often -bring disease. Bury all tin cans. - -Potatoes may be kept fresh as in your cellar by burying them in loose -earth or sand. - -Hang out your blankets and bed clothing to be aired an hour or two each -day, preferably in the morning. - -Indians had no soap. Indian women scoured out their earthen cooking -pots with rushes. You may clean your camp kettle and pans in the same -way; or, if no rushes can be found, scour with coarse grass dipped in -wet sand or sandy mud, and drench with clean water. - -Axes, clothing, shoes, and the like may be stored out of the way by -making them into a long bundle, with a cloth or thick paper, and -lashing them to one of the upright tent poles within the tent. - -Indian children were fond of chewing green cornstalks, for the sweet -juice they contained. If your camp is near a cornfield about the time -the corn is in milk, you will find the chewed stalks almost as sweet as -some varieties of sugar cane. - - - - - INDIAN COOKING - - -Young people often wonder what Indian cooking is like, and groups of -them—as a class in Sunday school or day school—may like to eat a meal -of Indian foods. Following are a few common Hidatsa dishes. Usually, -but one kind of food was eaten at a single meal. - - -=Madapozhee Eekteea[35]=, _or Boiled Whole Corn_ - -Pour three pints of water into a kettle and set on the fire. Drop in -a pint of shelled field corn, a handful of kidney beans and a lump of -suet the size of an egg. Boil until the corn kernels burst open. - - [35] Mä dä pō´ zhēē Ēēk tēē´ ä - - -=Manakapa=[36], _or Mush_ - -Put a pint of shelled field corn into a canvas cloth, and with ax or -stone pound to a coarse meal; or the corn may be ground in a coffee -mill. To this meal add a handful of kidney beans, and boil in two pints -of water. The Hidatsa mortar for pounding corn into meal is shown in -cut on page 156. - - [36] Mä´ nä kä pä - - -=Dried, or Jerked, Meat= - -Cut some beefsteak, round or sirloin, into thin strips. Dry the strips -on a stage of small poles (see cut on page 141) in the open air or over -a slow fire, or in the kitchen oven, until brittle and hard. Meat thus -dried could be kept for months. Warriors and hunters often ate jerked -meat raw or toasted over a fire. In the lodge, it was more often boiled -a few minutes to soften it; and the broth was drunk as we drink coffee. -(See also “Drying Meat”, page 185.) - - -=Pemmican= - -Take strips of beef, dried as described above, and pound them to shreds -between two hard stones. Put the shredded mass in a bowl, and pour over -it a little marrow fat from a boiled soup bone, or some melted butter. - - -=Corn Balls= - -The Hidatsas raised sweet corn for parching. Hunters often carried a -pouch of the parched grain for a lunch. Parched ripe sweet corn was -often pounded to a fine meal, kneaded with lumps of hot roasted suet, -and rolled between the palms into little lumps, or balls, the size of -one’s thumb. - -Hidatsa custom did not permit a woman to speak to her son-in-law; but -she often showed her love for him by making him a bowl of corn balls. - - - - - EDITOR’S NOTE - - -Surrounded by the powerful and hostile Sioux, the two little Hidatsa -tribes were compelled to keep relatively close to their stockaded -villages and cornfields, which, however, they most sturdily defended. -Their weakness proved a blessing. The yearly crops of their cornfields -were a sure protection against famine, and in their crowded little -villages was developed a culture that was remarkable. The circular -earth lodges of the Mandans and Hidatsas represent the highest -expression of the house-building art east of the Rocky Mountains. - -Three members of Small Ankle’s family are now living: Small Ankle’s -son, Wolf Chief, his daughter, Waheenee, or Buffalo-Bird Woman, and -her son, Good Bird, or Goodbird. Goodbird was the first Indian of his -tribe to receive a common school education. Like many Indians he has a -natural taste for drawing. Several hundred sketches by him, crude but -spirited and in true perspective, await publication by the Museum. - -Goodbird’s mother, Waheenee, is a marvelous source of information of -old-time life and belief. Conservative, and sighing for the good old -times, she is aware that the younger generation of Indians must adopt -civilized ways. Ignorant of English, she has a quick intelligence and -a memory that is marvelous. The stories in this book, out of her own -life, were told by her with other accounts of scientific interest for -the Museum. In the sweltering heat of an August day she has continued -dictation for nine hours, lying down but never flagging, when too weary -to sit longer in a chair. She is approximately 83 years old. - -The stories in this book are true stories, typical of Indian life. -Many of them are exactly as they fell from Waheenee’s lips. Others -have been completed from information given by Goodbird and Wolf Chief, -and in a few instances by other Indians. The aim has been not to give -a biography of Waheenee, but a series of stories illustrating the -philosophy, the Indian-thinking of her life. - -In story and picture, therefore, this book is true to fact and becomes -not only a reader of unusual interest but a contribution to the -literature of history and of anthropology. The author and the artist -have expressed and portrayed customs, places, and things that are -purely Indian and perfect in every detail. - - - - - +--------------------------------------------------------------+ - | | - | NED DAWSON | - | IN WILFUL LAND | - | BY | - | JAMES LEE ORR | - | | - | A very fascinating realistic | - | story characteristic of boys, | - | written in allegorical style and | - | impressing a splendid moral | - | lesson. For libraries and | - | supplementary reading. | - | | - | _Cloth, illustrated, 80 cents._ | - | | - | WEBB PUBLISHING COMPANY | - | Saint Paul, Minn. | - | | - +--------------------------------------------------------------+ - - - +--------------------------------------------------------------+ - | | - | RULES OF ORDER | - | FOR EVERY-DAY USE | - | _and_ | - | CIVIL GOVERNMENT | - | MADE PLAIN | - | | - | _HENRY SLADE GOFF_ | - | | - | Parliamentary Procedure Simplified | - | With a Graphic Explanation and Tabular | - | Illustration of Local, State and | - | National Institutions | - | | - | _Cloth, 116 pages, 75 cents._ | - | | - | WEBB PUBLISHING COMPANY | - | SAINT PAUL, MINN. | - | | - +--------------------------------------------------------------+ - - - Transcriber’s Notes: - - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - Text enclosed by equals is in bold (=bold=). - - Blank pages have been removed. - - Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAHEENEE--AN INDIAN GIRL'S -STORY *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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