Chapter XII: Preface (8)

27th. Sunday, I offered up the Holy Sacrifice of the Altar, followed by an instruction on the end of man, at which all the inmates of Fort Lewis attended, together with as many Black-Feet as the large room and passage could contain. Many a tear escaped from the Canadian, the Creole, and the Spaniard, at the remembrance, no doubt, of the innocent and happy days they spent when young, in attending regularly to their religious duties. Many a pious resolution was lowly made on the present occasion, and their strict attention and devout feelings during divine service, showed that the germ of faith in them still gave promise of fructifying, however far they may have wandered from the strict line of Christian rectitude. In the afternoon I administered, with all the ceremonies, the sacrament of baptism to thirty children.

From what I have seen, I am firmly convinced of the great good a missionary establishment would produce among the Black-Feet. {334} Assuredly it is a work well worthy the zeal of an apostle: to reclaim these savages from their cruel and bloody wars; to wrest them from the soul-destroying idolatry in which they are plunged, for they are worshippers of the sun and moon: and to teach them the consolatory truths of the Divine Redeemer of mankind, to which they seemed to listen with the utmost attention, and heartfelt satisfaction. Allow me the reflection, the ultimate fate of these fierce and lonely tribes is fixed at no distant date, unless looked to in time. What will become of them? The buffalo-field is becoming narrower from year to year, and each succeeding hunt finds the Indians in closer contact. It is highly probable that the Black-Feet plains, from the Sascatshawin to the Yellow-Stone, will be the last resort of the wild animals twelve years hence. Will these be sufficient to feed and clothe the hundred thousand inhabitants of these western wilds? The Crees, Black-Feet, Assiniboins, Crows, Snakes, Rickaries, and Sioux, will then come together and fight their bloody battles on these plains, and become themselves extinct over the last buffalo-steak. Let those, who have the power and the means, look to it in time. Let some efforts be made to rescue them from the threatened {335} destruction, lest, by guilty negligence, the last drop of aboriginous blood indelibly stain the fair fame of the Spread Eagle, under whose protecting wing they are said to live. Justice makes the appeal.

After mature deliberation upon the various plans devised for the contemplated establishment, it was deemed more advisable that the Reverend Father Point should remain with the Black-Feet, and continue the instructions; while I should go to St. Louis and endeavor to procure the means necessary to establish a permanent mission among them. Accordingly, on the 28th, I took final leave of my companions, of the kind and polite gentlemen of the Fort, of all the Black-Feet then present, who ceased not, during my stay among them, to give me the most marked tokens of affectionate attachment. Our departure was honored by the Fort with a discharge of the guns, and amidst a thousand farewells we glided down the Missouri, from a point 2850 miles above its mouth.

We left the Fort about noon, and encamped 25 miles below, near Bird Island. Next day, while passing the bluffs, on whose steep declivities numerous groups of the big-horn were browsing, we stole a march upon an old buck {336} that came to drink at the water’s edge—the first of the many victims sacrificed to our necessities during this long trip. After passing the Maria and Sandy rivers, we reached the remarkable formation, the yellow sandstone walls, on both sides of the Missouri, exhibiting most fantastic shapes and fissures—urns, of various sizes and forms—tables of every description—rostrums, surrounded by mushrooms, pillars, forts, castles, and a multitude of other figures, which, for the greater part of this, and the whole of the following day, furnished to our almost bewildered fancies ample scope for comparisons and theories.[325] We passed, on the 8th of October, the great Elk-horn steeple, near Porcupine Fork. I could not learn what extraordinary event this remarkable tower was intended to commemorate. Several thousand elk-horns have been here piled up, which formerly constituted, I have little doubt, the grand resort of numerous groups of these animals.[326] On the 11th we arrived at Fort Union, 600 miles distant from Fort Lewis, this making about 50 miles a day. Here we met with a very warm reception. We availed ourselves of the kind offer given to us of resting a day at the Fort; while there I baptized five children.[327] We left the Fort on the {337} 13th, with two companions. Large herds of buffalo were seen on both sides of the river, and bears, deer and elks appeared at every bend, so that there is little danger of suffering from want at this season. On the 16th our ardor to press forward, in spite of a strong head-wind, was suddenly cooled by a side wind, which upset the skiff and ourselves in four feet of water. We were now satisfied that we had better wait for a more favorable wind, and improve the time by drying our clothes. We started quite refreshed in the afternoon, and made up for the lost time by running sixty miles the next day. On the 17th we met six lodges of Assiniboins; they received us very kindly in their little camp,—gave us a feast and abundance of provisions. The same day we met eight Gros-Ventres, who were also exceedingly kind to us, insisting on our accepting a lot of buffalo tongues.[328] A favorable wind on the 18th, induced us to unfurl our sail. We were thus enabled to run about ten miles an hour, and early next day we reached Fort Berthold, where we were kindly entertained by Mr. Brugere.[329] The Gros-Ventres have a village here. I found but a few families;—one of the chiefs invited me to a feast. On the 20th we were hailed by several {338} bands of Indians, and kindly received. We proceeded, and encamped for the night near Knife river; but our fire discovered our encampment to a band of Indians.[330] The discovery would have been fatal to us, had I not been fortunately recognized by them; for they came armed for destruction, and took us by surprise. As soon as the two leaders knew who I was, they embraced me affectionately; our alarm was soon quieted, and we passed the evening very agreeably in their company; a good smoke, a cup of well sweetened coffee, a few humps and buffalo tongues, put them in a very good humour. They made me a solemn promise, that they would, in future, never molest a white man. They were Arikaras. The next day we breakfasted at Fort Madison, with the good and kind-hearted Mr. Des Autel.[331] Shortly after leaving this Fort, we passed under a scalp attached to the end of a long pole, which projected over the river. This was probably an offering to the sun, to obtain either fresh scalps or a good hunt. We were hailed by a large village of Arikaras, encamped and fortified on a point of land well timbered.[332] They treated us with great kindness, earnestly pressing me to accept invitations to several buffalo feasts; and as time did not admit of such delay, {339} their liberality fell little short of sinking the skiff, with the most dainty pieces of the hunt. Though late, we proceeded on our journey, principally, indeed, to avoid passing the night in feasting. Having had very favorable weather during the five following days, we reached, on the 26th, the encampment of Mr. Goule, an agent in the service of the American Fur Company.[333] I baptized several half-breed children at this place.

Availing ourselves of the favorable weather the four following days, we kept on the river, drifting down every night, so that early on the 30th, we arrived at Fort Pierre. Mr. Picotte, of St. Louis, received us with the utmost cordiality and politeness.[334] He forced me to remain three days under his hospitable roof. This delay enabled me to see a great number of Sioux, and baptize fifty-four children. Meanwhile Mr. Picotte ordered a large and convenient skiff to be made, and stored it with all sorts of provisions. In all my travels, I have never met one to surpass, perhaps to equal, the overflowing kindness with which this gentleman confers a favor. I cannot sufficiently express my gratitude to him. May God bless and reward him. And, indeed, I must here add, as a token of my {340} sincere gratitude, that in all the forts of the American Fur Company, the charitable liberality and kindness of the gentlemen were unbounded.

Late on the 3d November we renewed our journey, but had not proceeded far when we found it necessary to refit our skiff, which, being quite new, leaks considerably. We landed at a large farm belonging to the company on Fleury’s Island. We freely used the permission given to us, and committed great havoc among the poultry. On the 5th we breakfasted at Mr. Bouis’ Fort, where I baptized thirteen half-breed children—the day was beautiful and we made the whole of the Grande Detour.[335] We arrived at Fort Look-Out, of which I found Mr. Campbell in charge.[336] I baptized here sixteen half-breed children. I was kindly received by a great number of Sioux. We encamped nine miles lower down at a trading post held by two Canadians, where I baptized four children. On the 10th we passed the entrance of Running-water river, a fine stream with a strong current.[337] Two miles above its mouth were encamped one hundred families of the unhappy and much-abused Mormons—met several Sioux about Great Island, where we encamped.[338] A favorable {341} wind enabled us to reach Fort Vermilion on the 13th, four hundred miles below Fort Pierre. I baptized seven half-breed children. Mr. Hamilton liberally supplied us with provisions.[339] On the 14th we saw a Mormon along the beach, who fled at our approach. We met two Canadians who had shot a fine turkey, which they gave me: in return I presented them with some coffee and sugar, rare articles in that country. A fine breeze brought us in sight of the old Council Bluffs on the 18th.[340] The river has made considerable changes since my former visit to this place; entirely new beds have been formed. For several hundred miles, all the forests along the south side of the river were filled with cattle belonging to the Mormons. On the 18th we passed the ancient trading post, Lisel de Cabanne’s—a few miles below is the new temporary settlement of the Mormons, about ten thousand in number.[341] I was presented to their president, Mr. Young, a kind and polite gentleman. He pressed me very earnestly to remain a few days, an invitation which my limited time did not permit me to accept.[342] The persecutions and sufferings endured by this unhappy people, will one day probably form a prominent part of the history {342} of the Far-west. At sun-set we encamped at Mr. Sarpy’s trading post,[343] among the upper Potawotomies, where I met several of my old Indian friends, and among them Potogojecs, one of their chiefs, whose Indian legend of their religious traditions will form the subject of my next letter.

20th. A beautiful day—we visited our old friends in Bellevue, the good Mr. Papin[344] and others. We passed the Papillion, the Mosquito, and the Platte rivers, and encamped near Table Creek.[345]

On the 23d we arrived at St. Joseph’s, the highest town in Missouri.[346] It is now in a most thriving and prosperous condition; much improved indeed since I last saw it.

28th. We arrived at West-Port,[347] from which I proceeded by stage to St. Louis, the termination of a trip which occupied just two months. I recommend myself to your prayers.

I remain, with sentiments of profound respect and esteem, your obedient servant and brother in Christ.

_P. J. De Smet, S. J._

No. XXV

A. M. D. G.

LEGEND OF THE POTAWOTOMIE INDIANS

St. Louis University, January 10, 1847.

VERY REV. AND DEAR FATHER PROVINCIAL,—Agreeably to my promise, I send you the account given by the Potawotomies, residing at Council Bluffs, respecting their own origin, and the causes which gave rise to their “great medicine,” and juggling, considered by them as of the highest antiquity. Such superstitions, indeed, are found to exist among all the tribes of the American continent, differing only in the form and the accompanying ceremonies. The Nanaboojoo of the Potawotomies, the Wieska of the Objibbeways, the Wizakeshak of the Crees, the Sauteux and the Black-Feet, the Etalapasse of the Tchinouks on the coast of the Pacific, can, among these different tribes, be traced up to the same personage.

{344} I send it _verbatim_, as it was communicated to me by Potogojecs, one of the most intelligent chiefs of the Potawotomie nation. Though fabulous, it is not entirely devoid of interest; it should excite us to offer up our prayers the more fervently to the Great Father of Light, for these poor benighted children of the forest, and beg of Him to send good and worthy laborers into this vast vineyard. Having enquired of this chief what he thought of the Great Spirit, of the Creator, and of the origin of his religion, or great medicine, he replied as follows: “I will give you a faithful account of what my tribe believes in these matters. We have not, like you, books to transmit our traditions to our children; it is the duty of the old men of the nation to instruct the young people in whatever relates to their belief, and their happiness.

“Many among us believe, that there are two Great Spirits who govern the universe, but who are constantly at war with each other. One is called the _Kchemnito_, that is, the Great Spirit, the other _Mchemnito_, or the Wicked Spirit. The first is goodness itself, and his beneficent influence is felt everywhere; but the second is wickedness personified, and does nothing but evil. Some believe that they are equally {345} powerful, and, through fear of the Wicked Spirit, offer to him their homage and adoration. Others, again, are doubtful which of them should be considered the more powerful, and accordingly endeavor to propitiate both, by offering to each an appropriate worship. The greater part, however, believe as I do, that _Kchemnito_ is the first principle, the first great cause, and consequently ought to be all-powerful, and to whom alone is due all worship and adoration; and that _Mchemnito_ ought to be despised and rejected!

“Kchemnito at first created a world, which he filled with a race of beings having nothing but the appearance of men—perverse, ungrateful, wicked dogs—that never raised their eyes to heaven to implore the assistance of the Great Spirit. Such ingratitude aroused him to anger, and he plunged the world in a great lake, where they were all drowned. His anger thus appeased, he withdrew it from the waters, and created anew a beautiful young man, who, however, appeared very sad, and being dissatisfied with his solitary condition, grew weary of life. Kchemnito took pity on him, and gave him, during sleep, a sister, as a companion to cheer his loneliness. When he awoke and saw {346} his sister he rejoiced exceedingly—his melancholy instantly disappeared. They spent their time in agreeable conversation and amusement, living for many years together in a state of innocence and perfect harmony, without the slightest incident to mar the happiness of their peaceful solitude.

“The young man had a dream, for the first time, which he communicated to his sister. ‘Five young men,’ said he, ‘will come this night, and rap at the door of the lodge—the Great Spirit forbids you to laugh, to look at them, or give an answer to any of the first four, but laugh, look, and speak, when the fifth presents himself.’ She acted according to his advice. When she heard the voice of the fifth, she opened the door to him, laughing at the same time very heartily; he entered immediately, and became her husband. The first of the five strangers, called Sama, (tobacco,) having received no answer, died of grief; the three others, Wapekone, (pumpkin,) Eshketamok, (watermelon,) and Kojees, (the bean,) shared the fate of their companion. Taaman, (maize,) the bridegroom, buried his four companions, and from their graves there sprung up, shortly after, pumpkins, water-melons, beans, and tobacco-plants {347} in sufficient abundance to supply their wants during the whole year, and enable them to smoke to the manitous, and in the council. From this union are descended the American Indian nations.

“A great manitou came on earth, and chose a wife from among the children of men. He had four sons at a birth; the first born was called Nanaboojoo, the friend of the human race, the mediator between man and the Great Spirit; the second was named Chipiapoos, the man of the dead, who presides over the country of the souls; the third, Wabosso, as soon as he saw the light, fled towards the north, where he was changed into a white rabbit, and under that name is considered there as a great manitou; the fourth was Chakekenapok, the man of flint, or fire-stone. In coming into the world he caused the death of his mother.

“Nanaboojoo, having arrived at the age of manhood, resolved to avenge the death of his mother, (for among us revenge is considered honorable); he pursued Chakekenapok all over the globe. Whenever he could come within reach of his brother, he fractured some member of his body, and after several renconters, finally destroyed him by tearing out his entrails. All {348} fragments broken from the body of this man of stone then grew up into large rocks; his entrails were changed into vines of every species, and took deep root in all the forests; the flint-stones scattered around the earth indicate where the different combats took place. Before fire was introduced among us, Nanaboojoo taught our ancestors how to form hatchets, lances, and the points of arrows, in order to assist us in killing our enemies in war, and animals for our food. Nanaboojoo and his brother, Chipiapoos, lived together retired from the rest of mankind, and were distinguished from all other beings by their superior qualities of body and mind. The manitous that dwell in the air, as well as those who inhabit the earth and the waters, envied the power of these brothers, and conspired to destroy them. Nanaboojoo discovered and eluded their snares, and warned Chipiapoos not to separate himself from him a single moment. Notwithstanding this admonition, Chipiapoos ventured alone one day upon Lake Michigan; the manitous broke the ice, and he sank to the bottom, where they hid the body. Nanaboojoo became inconsolable when he missed his brother from his lodge; he sought him everywhere in vain, he waged war against all the manitous, {349} and precipitated an infinite number of them into the deepest abyss. He then wept, disfigured his person, and covered his head, as a sign of his grief, during six years, pronouncing from time to time, in sad and mournful tones, the name of the unhappy Chipiapoos.

“While this truce continued, the manitous consulted upon the means best calculated to appease the anger of Nanaboojoo, without, however, coming to any conclusion; when four of the oldest and wisest, who had had no hand in the death of Chipiapoos, offered to accomplish the difficult task. They built a lodge close to that of Nanaboojoo, prepared an excellent repast, and filled a calumet with the most exquisite tobacco. They journeyed in silence towards their redoubted enemy, each carrying under his arm a bag, formed of the entire skin of some animal, an otter, a lynx, or a beaver, well provided with the most precious medicines, (to which, in their superstitious practices, they attach a supernatural power). With many kind expressions, they begged that he would condescend to accompany them. He arose immediately, uncovered his head, washed himself, and followed them. When arrived at their lodge, they offered him a cup containing a dose {350} of their medicine, preparatory to his initiation. Nanaboojoo swallowed the contents at a single draught, and found himself completely restored. They then commenced their dances and their songs; they also applied their medicine bags, which, after gently blowing them at him, they would then cast on the ground; at each fall of the medicine bag, Nanaboojoo perceived that his melancholy, sadness, hatred, and anger disappeared, and affections of an opposite nature took possession of his soul. They all joined in the dance and song—they ate and smoked together. Nanaboojoo thanked them for having initiated him in the mysteries of their grand medicine.

“The manitous brought back the lost Chipiapoos, but it was forbidden him to enter the lodge; he received, through a chink, a burning coal, and was ordered to go and preside over the region of souls, and there, for the happiness of his uncles and aunts, that is, for all men and women, who should repair thither, kindle with this coal a fire which should never be extinguished.

“Nanaboojoo then re-descended upon earth, and, by order of the Great Spirit, initiated all his family in the mysteries of the grand medicine. {351} He procured for each of them a bag well furnished with medicines, giving them strict orders to perpetuate these ceremonies among their descendants, adding at the same time, that these practices, religiously observed, would cure their maladies, procure them abundance in the chase, and give them complete victory over their enemies. (All their religion consists in these superstitious practices, dances and songs; they have the most implicit faith in these strange reveries.)

“Nanaboojoo is our principal intercessor with the Great Spirit; he it was that obtained for us the creation of animals for our food and raiment. He has caused to grow those roots and herbs which are endowed with the virtue of curing our maladies, and of enabling us, in time of famine, to kill the wild animals. He has left the care of them to Mesakkummikokwi, the great-grandmother of the human race, and in order that we should never invoke her in vain, it has been strictly enjoined on the old woman never to quit the dwelling. Hence, when an Indian makes the collection of roots and herbs which are to serve him as medicines, he deposits, at the same time, on the earth, a small {352} offering to Mesakkummikokwi. During his different excursions over the surface of the earth, Nanaboojoo killed all such animals as were hurtful to us, as the mastodon, the mammoth, etc. He has placed four beneficial spirits at the four cardinal points of the earth, for the purpose of contributing to the happiness of the human race. That of the north procures for us ice and snow, in order to aid us in discovering and following the wild animals. That of the south gives us that which occasions the growth of our pumpkins, melons, maize and tobacco. The spirit placed at the west gives us rain, and that of the east gives us light, and commands the sun to make his daily walks around the globe. The thunder we hear is the voice of spirits, having the form of large birds, which Nanaboojoo has placed in the clouds. When they cry very loud we burn some tobacco in our cabins, to make them a smoke-offering and appease them.

“Nanaboojoo yet lives, resting himself after his labors, upon an immense flake of ice, in the Great Lake, (the North Sea). We fear that the whites will one day discover his retreat, and drive him off, then the end of the world is at {353} hand, for as soon as he puts foot on the earth, the whole universe will take fire, and every living creature will perish in the flames!”

In their festivities and religious assemblies, all their songs turn upon some one or other of these fables. When the chief had finished this history, I asked him whether he had any faith in what he had just related. “Assuredly I have, for I have had the happiness to see and entertain three old men of my nation, who penetrated far into the north, and were admitted into the presence of Nanaboojoo, with whom they conversed a long time. He confirmed all that I have recounted to you!”

Our savages believe that the souls of the dead, in their journey to the great prairie of their ancestors, pass a rapid current, over which the only bridge is a single tree, kept constantly in violent agitation, managed, however, in such a way, that the souls of perfect men pass it in safety, whilst those of the wicked slip off the tree into the water and are lost forever.

Such is the narration given to me by the Potawotomi chief, comprising all the articles of the creed held by this tribe, we can hardly fail to recognize in it, much obscured by the accumulation of ages, the tradition of the universal {354} deluge, of the creation of the universe, of Adam and Eve; even some traces of the incarnation are found in the birth of Nanaboojoo, he was descended of parents, one of whom only, his mother, was of the human race; he is, moreover, the intercessor between God and man.

I recommend myself to your prayers.

I remain, with sentiments of profound respect and esteem, your obedient humble servant and brother in Christ,

_P. J. De Smet, S. J._

No. XXVI

A. M. D. G.

Philadelphia, April 6th, 1847.

MR. J. D. BRYANT,

DEAR SIR,—The nation of the Pawnees is divided into four great tribes, which act in concert as one people. They have their villages upon the river Platte, or Nebrasca, and its tributaries, about 150 miles west of the Missouri river. They are the same true children of the desert as they have been these many ages.—They dress in the skins of animals killed in the chase. They cultivate maize and squashes, using the shoulder-blade of the buffalo as a substitute for the plough and hoe. In the season of the chase, a whole village, men, women, and children, abandon their settlements and go in pursuit of the animals whose flesh supplies them with food. Their huts, which they call akkaros, are circular, and about 140 feet in circumference. They are ingeniously formed by planting young trees {356} at suitable distances apart, then bending and joining their tops to a number of pillars or posts fixed circularly in the centre of the enclosure. The trees are then covered with bark, over which is thrown a layer of earth, nearly a foot in thickness, and finally, a solid mass of green turf completes the structure. These dwellings, thus completed, resemble hillocks. A large aperture in the top serves to admit the light and also to emit the smoke. They are very warm in winter, and cool, but oftentimes very damp, in summer. They are large enough to contain ten or a dozen families.[348]

If, in the long journeys which they undertake in search of game, any should be impeded, either by age or sickness, their children or relations make a small hut of dried grass to shelter them from the heat of the sun or from the weather, leaving as much provision as they are able to spare, and thus abandon them to their destiny. Nothing is more touching than this constrained separation, caused by absolute necessity—the tears and cries of the children on the one hand, and the calm resignation of the aged father or mother on the other. They often encourage their children not to expose their own lives in order to prolong their short remnant {357} of time. They are anxious to depart on their long journey, and to join their ancestors in the hunting-grounds of the Great Spirit. If, some days after, they are successful in the chase, they return as quickly as possible to render assistance and consolation. These practices are common to all the nomadic tribes of the mountains.

The Pawnees have nearly the same ideas concerning the universal deluge as those which I have given of the Potawotomies. In relation to the soul, they say, that there is a resemblance in the body which does not die, but detaches itself when the body expires. If a man has been good during his life, kind to his parents, a good hunter, a good warrior, his soul (_sa ressemblance_) is transported into a land of delights, abundance, and pleasures. If, on the contrary, a man has been wicked, hard-hearted, cruel and indolent, his soul passes through narrow straits, difficult and dangerous, into a country where all is confusion, contrariety and unhappiness.

In their religious ceremonies, they dance, sing and pray before a bird stuffed with all kinds of roots and herbs used in their superstition. They have a fabulous tradition, which teaches them that the morning star sent this bird to their ancestors, {358} as its representative, with orders to invoke it on all important occasions and to exhibit it in times of sacrifice.[349] Before the invocation, they fill the calumet with the sacred herb contained in the bird. They then puff out the smoke towards the star, offer the prayers and make their demands, dancing and singing, and celebrating in verses the great power of the bird. They implore its assistance and its favor, whether to obtain success in hunting or in war, or to demand snow in order to make the buffalo descend from the mountains, or to appease the Great Spirit when a public calamity befalls the nation, or a family, or even a single person. The Pawnees are one of the few aboriginal tribes, which, descending from the ancient Mexicans, are guilty of offering human sacrifices.[350] In order to justify this barbarous practice, they say that the morning star taught them by means of the bird, that such sacrifices were agreeable to it, and would bring down upon the nation the favor of the great Deliberator[351] of the universe. They are firmly persuaded that human sacrifices are most agreeable to the Great Spirit. Hence, when the Pawnee takes a prisoner and wishes {359} to render himself acceptable to Heaven, he devotes it to the morning star. At the time of sacrifice, he delivers the prisoner over into the hands of the jugglers; soon after which, commence the ceremonies preparatory to the offering. I was in the neighborhood when one of these bloody sacrifices took place, and the particulars, which I am about to relate, were reported to me by worthy eye-witnesses.

The victim in this horrid transaction was a young Sioux girl, named Dakotha, aged 15 years, who had been taken prisoner by the Pawnees about six months previous to her immolation. During the months of her captivity, Dakotha received from the Pawnees every mark of regard which savages are capable of bestowing. She was an honored guest at all the _fêtes_ and _festivities_ of the village; and everywhere was treated, in appearance at least, rather as a fond friend than as a prisoner. It is the custom thus to prepare the victim, in order to conceal their infernal design.

The month of April being the season for planting, is on that account selected for the offering of their abominable sacrifices. To this end, four of the principal savages of the tribe assemble in the largest and most beautiful {360} akkaro or hut, to deliberate with Tirawaat, or the great Deliberator of the universe, concerning the sacrifice of the victim. According to their belief, a human offering is rewarded by him with an abundant harvest. He fills the hunting-grounds convenient to their villages with immense herds of buffaloes, deer and antelopes, thus enabling them to kill their prey with more facility and with less risk of coming in contact with other warlike and hostile nations.

The oldest savage of the tribe presides at the feast given on the occasion. Ten of the best singers and musicians, each with his peculiar instrument, squat in the middle of the akkaro. Four of them have dried calabashes in their hands, from which the seeds have been extracted and small pebbles placed in their stead, which being shaken by the muscular arms of these gigantic savages, produce a sound like falling hail. Four others beat their tekapiroutche—this is a kind of drum of a most mournful and deafening sound; it is made from the trunk of a tree and is about three feet long and one-and-a-half broad, covered at both ends with deer skin. The remaining two have a kind of flute made of reeds, about two feet long and one inch in diameter, instruments, such as were used by {361} the ancient shepherds, and which give forth sounds that may be heard at the distance of half a mile. They fasten to each instrument a little tewaara, or medicine bag, filled with roots and other materials, to which, in their superstitious rites, they attach a supernatural power, that renders their offering more agreeable to the Author of life. Four sentinels, each armed with a lance, take their position at the four cardinal points of the lodge, to maintain order among the spectators and to prevent the entrance of the women, young girls and children. The guests are seated upon the ground or upon mats on the right and left of the presiding juggler, turning around from time to time in the most grotesque and ridiculous dances. Imagine thirty swarthy savages, with their bodies tattooed; their faces besmeared with paint—white, black, made of soot and the scrapings of the kettles, yellow, green and vermilion; and their long and dishevelled hair clotted with mud or clay. Placing themselves in a circle, they shriek, they leap, and give to their bodies, their arms, their legs, and their heads a thousand hideous contortions; while streams of perspiration, pouring down their bodies, render the horrors of their appearance still more dreadful, by {362} the confused commingling of the colors with which they are smeared—now they crowd together pell-mell, then separate, some to the right, some to the left, one upon one foot, another upon two, while others go on all-fours without order, and although without appearance of measure, yet, in perfect harmony with their drums, their calabashes and their flutes.

Near the centre of the hut, at about four feet from the fire-place, are placed four large buffalo heads, dissected, in order that they may take the augury. The presiding juggler, the musicians and the dancers have their heads covered with the down of the swan, which sticks to them by means of honey, with which they smear their hair—a practice common to all the tribes of North America in their superstitious rites. The president or presiding juggler alone is painted with red, the musicians, one half red and the other half black, while all the others are daubed with all colors, and in the most fantastic figures.

Each time that the music, the songs and the dances are performed, the spectators observe the most profound silence, and during the space of thirty minutes that the extraordinary charivari continues, nothing is heard but the chants, the cries, the howlings and the music. When all {363} have figured in the dance, the presiding juggler gives the signal to stop, crying out with all the force of his lungs. Immediately all cease, each one takes his place, and the auditory responds: “Néva! Néva! Néva!” it is well, it is well, it is well! The dancers then fill the ancient nawishkaro, or religious calumet, which is used only upon occasions the most important. They offer it to the president, who, striking with both his hands the long pipe, adorned with pearls and worked with different figures, goes and squats himself down by the fire-place. One of the guards places a coal upon the mysterious calumet. Having lighted it, he rises and gives a puff to each of the musicians without once slacking his hold from the pipe. He then turns towards the centre, and raising his eyes towards heaven, he offers the calumet to the Master of life, resting for a moment in majestic silence: then, offering three puffs to heaven, he speaks these words: “O, Tirawaat! Thou who beholdest all things, smoke with thy children, and take pity on us.” He then offers the calumet to the buffalo heads, their great manitous, salutes each of them with two puffs, and then goes to empty the bowl of the pipe in a wooden dish, prepared for that purpose, that the sacred ashes {364} may be afterwards gathered and preserved in a deer-skin pouch.[352]

After the dance, the master of ceremonies serves up the repast to the guests, seated in a circle. The food consists of dried buffalo meat and boiled maize, served in wooden plates, filled to the brim. Each one is bound to empty his plate, even should he expose himself to the danger of death from indigestion. The president offers a portion of the meat and maize to the Great Spirit, and places it accordingly upon the ground, and he then makes a similar offering to one of the buffalo heads, which is supposed to be a party to the feast. At length, while each one occupies himself with doing honor to his plate, one of the chiefs of the band rises up and announces to all the guests that the Master of life dances with him, and that he accepts the calumet and the feasting. All the band reply: “Néva! Néva! Néva!” This is the first condemnation.

{365} The repast ended, they again dance, after which the calumet is lighted the second time; and, as in the former instance, is offered to the Master of life and to the buffalo heads, upon which, the lodge again resounds with the triple cry, “Néva!” This last dance condemns, without appeal, the unfortunate victim whose immolation is invoked.

After all their grotesque dances, their cries, their chants and their vociferations, the savages, preceded by the musicians, go out of the lodge, to present the sacred calumet to the buffalo heads placed on the tops of the lodges of the village, each of which is ornamented with from two to eight heads, preserved as the trophies of their skill in the chase. At each puff the multitude raise a furious cry, for now the whole village joins in the extraordinary procession. They stop before the lodge of the Sioux girl, and make the air resound with the horrible imprecations against their enemies and against the unfortunate and innocent victim, who represents them on the present occasion. From this moment she is guarded by two old satellites, whose office it is to beguile her from the least suspicion that she is the victim for the coming sacrifice; and whose duty it also is to entertain {366} her upon the great feast, they prepare on the occasion in her honor, and that she may be well fed in order to appear more beautiful and fat, and thereby more agreeable to the Master of life. This ends the first day of the ceremonies.

On the second day, two old female savages, with dishevelled hair, their faces wrinkled and daubed with black and red paint, their naked arms and legs tattooed, barefooted, and with no other dress than a deer-skin petticoat, extending down to the knee—in a word, two miserable-looking beldams, capable of striking terror in any beholder,—issue from their huts with pipes in their hands, ornamented with the scalps which their husbands have taken from their unhappy enemies. Passing through the village, they dance around each akkaro, solemnly announcing, “that the Sioux girl has been given to the Master of life by wise and just men, that the offering is acceptable to him, and that each one should prepare to celebrate the day with festivity and mirth.” At this announcement, the idlers and children of the village move about and shout with joy. They then, still dancing, re-conduct the two old squaws to their huts, before which they place their pikes as trophies, and enter.—All then {367} return to their own lodge, to partake of the feasts of their relatives.

About ten o’clock in the morning of the third day, all the young women and girls of the village, armed with hatchets, repair to the lodge of their young and unhappy captive, and invite her to go into the forest with them to cut wood.—The simple-hearted, confiding child, accepts their malicious invitation with eagerness and joy, happy to breathe once more the pure air.—They then give her a hatchet, and the female troop advance towards the place marked out in the dance, making the forest resound with shouts of joy. Atipaat, an old squaw who conducted them, designates, by a blow of the hatchet, the tree which is to be cut down. Each then gives it one blow, after which the victim approaches to complete the work. As soon as she commences what seems to her but pastime, the whole crowd of young furies surround her, howling and dancing. Unconscious that the tree is to supply the wood for her own sacrifice, the poor child pursues her work as if a great honor had been reserved for her.—Atipaat, the old woman, then fastens to her the ashki[353] with which to draw the wood.

{368} The troop then lead the way towards the village, dancing as they pass along, but giving the hapless victim almost no assistance in dragging her load. An innumerable multitude attend them to the place of sacrifice, and receive them with loud acclamations. They there relieve her of her burden and again place her in the hands of the guards, who, with voices harsh and quivering, chant the great deeds of their younger days and re-conduct her to her lodge. In the meantime the whole band assist to arrange the wood between two trees, after which they immediately disperse.

On the morning of the fourth day, before sunrise, a savage visits all the lodges to announce to each family, in the name of the Master of life, that they must furnish two billets of wood about three feet long for the sacrifice.

Then thirty warriors issue from their lodges, decked in all sorts of accoutrements; their heads adorned with deer and buffalo horns, with the tails of horses and the plumes of the {369} eagle and heron, interwoven with their scalp-locks, while the tails of wolves and wild cats stream from various parts behind, as the wings of Mercury are represented, with pendants hanging from their noses and ears, so elongated by the weight of the ornaments suspended to them, that they float about and strike against their shoulders.—Glass beads, or necklaces of brass or steel adorn their necks, while highly-ornamented deer-skin leggins and curiously-painted buffalo-skins, negligently thrown over their shoulders, complete their grotesque habiliments. Thus accoutred they present themselves at the hut of their captive, who is already adorned with the most beautiful dress their fancy can devise, or the materials at their command produce. Her head-dress is composed of the feathers of the eagle and swan, and descends behind in gracefully waving curves, even to the ground. Her person is properly painted with red and black lines. A frock of deer-skin descends to the knee, while a beautiful pair of leggins extend from thence to the ankle. A pair of moccasins garnished with porcupine quills, pearl and glass beads, are on her feet. Pendants hang from her ears and nose, a necklace ornaments her neck, and bracelets her arms; {370} nothing was spared that could add to her beauty.

Tranquillity and joy distinguishes her as she approaches the grand feast, which she has been made to believe her kind guardians have prepared to honor her. At the first cry of the warriors, the poor child comes out of the hut and walks at the head of her executioners, who follow in single file. As they pass along they enter into all the huts, where the most profound silence and the utmost propriety reign. The Sioux girl walks around the fire-place, her followers do the same, and, just as she leaves the lodge, the principal squaw gives her two billets of wood, which the unconscious victim gives in her turn to each of the savages. In this manner, when she has been made to collect all the wood to serve for her immolation, she takes her place in the rear of the band, joyous and content that she has had the happiness to contribute to the pleasure of her executioners; after which they again restore her to her two guards, to be presented with her last repast, which consists of a large plate of maize.

All now wait in anxious expectation to witness the last scene of the bloody drama. The whole village is in commotion. Everywhere {371} the warriors, old and young, may be seen preparing their murderous arrow, as upon the eve of a battle. Some practice shooting at a mark; the more barbarous, thirsting for the blood of their enemies, encourage and instruct their children in the use of the bow and arrow, and what part of the body they ought to strike.—The young women and girls devote themselves to clearing away the brushes and preparing the place of sacrifice, after the accomplishment of which, they employ themselves during the rest of that day and night in polishing their necklaces, pendants and bracelets, and all the other ornaments in which they wish to appear at the great feast.

On the fifth day, an aid-de-camp of Lechartetewarouchte, or the chief of sacrifice, ran through the village to announce, in the name of his master, the necessity of preparing the red and black paint, which is to serve for the grand ceremony. It is vain to attempt to give you, my dear sir, an adequate description of this personage, either as regards his costume, his figure, or his manner; it is everything that a savage can invent of the fantastic, the ridiculous and the frightful, united in one person. The collector of colors himself scarcely yields {372} to his comrade in monstrosity. He has the appearance of one, truly, just escaped from the infernal regions. His body is painted black, which, contrasted with the whiteness of his teeth and of his huge eyes, and with his hair besmeared with white clay, and bristling like the mane of a lion, gives him an aspect terrible and ferocious in the extreme. At each heel is fastened the tail of a wolf, and on his feet a pair of moccasins made of buffalo skin, with the long shaggy hair on the outside. He passes through the whole village with a measured step, holding a wooden plate in each hand. He enters the huts successively, and, as he approaches the fire-place, he cries aloud: “The Master of life sends me here.” Immediately, a woman comes and empties into one of his plates either some red or some black paint, which she had prepared. Upon the reception of which, he raises his eyes to heaven, and with a loud voice says: “Regard the love of thy children, O Tirawaat! However poor, all that they possess is thine, and they give it to thee. Grant us an abundant harvest. Fill our hunting-grounds with buffaloes, deer, stags and antelopes. Make us powerful against our enemies, so that we may again renew this great sacrifice.” {373} Each one replies by the usual exclamation: “Néva! Néva! Néva!”

After the return of the collector of colors, and before sunrise, the last scene commences. Men and women, boys and girls, daub themselves in all the colors and forms imaginable. They deck themselves in whatever they possess which in their estimation is either beautiful or precious—pearls, beads, porcelain collars, the claws of the white bear, (this is in their view the most costly and valuable decoration) bracelets and pendants; nothing is forgotten on this occasion. They ornament their hair with the feathers of the heron, and of the gray eagle, a bird superstitiously venerated by them. Thus equipped for their sortie, they listen attentively for the first signal to the sacrifice.

While these preparations are in progress, the Tewaarouchte, a religious band of distinguished warriors, known in the procession by the down of swans upon their hair or upon the tops of their heads, and by their naked bodies painted in red and black lines, follow the braves of the nation armed with their bows and arrows, which are sedulously concealed beneath their buffalo robes. Thus they approach the lodge where the unconscious victim awaits, as she thinks, {374} the happy moment for the festivities given in her honor, to commence. She is now delivered into the hands of her executioners, dressed in the beautiful costume of the previous day, with the addition of a cord tied to each ankle. The poor child is all interest and in a kind of impatience to participate in the grand festivities. She smiles as she looks round upon the most cruel and the most revengeful enemies of her race. Not the slightest agitation, fear, or suspicion, is visible in her manner. She walks with joy and confidence in the midst of her executioners. Arrived at the fatal spot, a frightful presentiment flashes across her mind. There is no one of her own sex present. In vain do her eyes wander from place to place, in order to find the evidences of a feast. Why that solitary fire? And those three posts, which she herself drew from the forest, and which she saw fastened between two trees, and those swarthy figures of the warriors, what can they mean? All, all indicate some dreadful project. They order her to mount the three posts. She hesitates, she trembles as an innocent lamb prepared for the slaughter. She weeps most bitterly and with a voice the most touching, such as must have broken any other hearts than those of these {375} savage men, she implores them not to kill her. With a persuasive tone they endeavor to convince her that their intention is not to injure her, but that the ceremonies in which she participates are indispensable before the grand feast. One of the most active of the savages unrolls the cords tied to her wrists and assists her to mount to the post. He passes the cords over the branches of the two trees, between which the sacrifice is to be made.

These are rendered firm by the powerful arms of the other savages, and her feet immediately fastened to the topmost of the three posts, which she had unconsciously cut and drawn to the fatal spot. On the instant all doubt of their intentions vanishes from her mind. The savages no longer conceal from her their frightful project. She cries aloud, she weeps, she prays; but her supplications, her tears and her prayers are alike drowned in the melée, and cry of their horrible imprecations against her nation.

Upon her innocent and devoted head they concentrate the full measure of their vengeance, of all the cruelties, of all the crimes, of all the injustice and cruelty of the Sioux, which may have taken place in their most cruel and protracted {376} wars, and which from time immemorial had been transmitted from father to son, as a precious heritage of vengeance and resentment. In a manner the most furious and most triumphant they exult with leaping and howling, like wild beasts, around their trembling victim. They then despoil her of all her ornaments and of her dress, when the chief of the sacrifice approaches and paints one-half of her body black and the other half red, the colours of their victims. He then scorches her armpits and sides with a pine-knot torch. After these preparatory rites, he gives the signal to the whole tribe, who make the air resound with the terrible war-cry of the Sassaskwi. At this piercing cry, which freezes the heart with terror, which paralyzes the timid and rouses the ardor of the brave, which confounds the buffalo in his course, and fills the bear with such fear as to take from him all the power of resisting or fleeing from his enemies, the savages, impatient and greedy for blood, issue from their dark lodges. Like a terrific hurricane they rush headlong to the fatal spot. Their cries, mingled with the noise of their feet, resemble the roar of thunder, increasing as the storm approaches. As a swarm of bees surround their queen, these Pawnee savages {377} encompass the Sioux child—their trembling victim. In the twinkling of an eye, their bows are bent and their arrows adjusted to the cords. The arrow of Lecharitetewarouchte, or chief of the sacrifice, is the only one which is barbed with iron. With this, it is his province to pierce the heart of the innocent Dakotha. A profound silence reigns for an instant among the ferocious band. No sound breaks the awful stillness save the sobs and piteous moans of the victim, who hangs trembling in the air, while the chief of the sacrifice makes a last offering of her to the Master of the universe. At that moment he transfixes her through the heart—upon the instant a thousand murderous arrows quiver in the body of the poor child. Her whole body is one shapeless mass, riddled with arrows as numerous as are the quills upon the back of the porcupine.