Chapter III (1)

Hark! O hark! A sound, yonder distant sound
Comes to greet us, singing comes, soft the river's song,
Rippling gently 'neath the trees.

In the foregoing song one can hear the constant murmur of the summer south wind as it blows in that country for days, and see the broad stretch of the great level land, gently undulating in places, with its eastward-flowing streams bordered by zones of trees, the timbered zones along the stream courses being the only forest land in that country.

THRILLING ESCAPE OF A WAR PARTY OUTNUMBERED AND SURROUNDED BY THEIR ENEMIES

_A Pawnee Story_

In the northwest part of Nebraska there is a high butte with perpendicular sides like the walls of a great building. Because of the shape of this butte, and because it is composed mostly of a soft rock or hard, firm clay, it is called Court-House Rock by the white people. Of course it has other names among the Indian tribes of that region.

This great butte stands out boldly upon the high plain and can be seen for many miles in all directions overlooking the Platte River. The top is almost flat and all sides but one are almost vertical, and are bare of vegetation, worn smooth by rain and by wind, impossible to climb. But there is a way on one side by which a strong man can make his way to the top.

This high lonely butte stands on the borderland between the country of the Pawnees and the country of the Dakotas. The Dakotas and the Pawnees were almost always at war with each other. Many years ago a Pawnee war party was camped near this butte when they were surprised by a war party of Dakotas stronger in numbers than their own party. In the fight which ensued the Pawnees were unable to drive their enemies off, but were compelled to take refuge by climbing to the top of the butte. The Dakotas were unable to follow the Pawnees upon the butte, for the Pawnees were able to guard the single narrow path. But neither could the Pawnees escape again upon the open plain for the Dakotas securely guarded the descent and could easily kill one after another all who might attempt to come down that way. So it seemed only a question of time before all the Pawnees must die of hunger and thirst upon the top of the rock, or come down and give themselves up to death at the hands of their enemies. The camps of the Dakotas surrounded the butte, laying siege to it to starve the Pawnees out.

The Pawnees were in a woeful plight. As the sun rose and traveled across the sky they could look away for miles and perhaps see flocks of antelopes grazing upon the plain, while their own stomachs were pinched with hunger; and some miles to the south they could see the flashing sunlight gleaming upon the waters of the Platte River, while close at hand, at the foot of the butte, they could see their enemies eating and drinking, which could but serve to aggravate their own hunger and thirst. And at night when the scorching sun had sunk in the west they might look away to the eastward, in which direction their homes lay many days' march distant in the beautiful and fruitful valley of the Loup River; and as they looked the twinkling stars appearing one by one near the eastern horizon must have made them think of the evening camp fires of their home people. And at night the grim chill of the rare air of the high butte gripped their bodies in its clutch. And all the while they must be very vigilant against their enemies to prevent being overtaken. They all suffered severely, but the captain of the company suffered most of all; for added to the bodily sufferings which he endured in common with his men, he also suffered extreme mental anguish, for he felt his responsibility on account of his men. Because they had trusted his leadership and had put themselves under his orders it seemed that now they must all die a horrible death. For himself he dreaded not death so much as to be the cause of the loss of his brave men. To him this was far more bitter than death. In the night-time he would go away from the others and cry out in fervent prayer to Tirawa, begging His help, begging that He would show him some way to save his men and bring them off safe.

And while he was thus praying, he heard a voice saying, "Look carefully and see if you can find a place where you shall be able to climb down from this rock and save your men and yourself." So he prayed earnestly all night, and when daylight came he went along the edges of the butte looking carefully to see if there might be a place where some way might be found by which to go down. At last he found a jutting point of rock near the cliff edge, and standing above the level. Below this point the cliff side was smooth and vertical. It occurred to him that this point might be made a means of support from which the men might let themselves down the face of the cliff by a rope. When night came again, after he had posted the sentries to guard the place of ascent from the enemy, he returned to the point of rock and with his knife he cut away soft weathered rock at its base to make a secure place of fastening for a rope. Then he gathered secretly all the lariats which the company had. These he tied together and then, tying one end securely to the rock which he had prepared, he carefully paid out the rope and found to his joy that it reached the ground below. He made a loop in the rope for his foot and then he let himself slowly down to the ground, then he climbed back again. When night came again he posted his sentries so that the enemy might see them at their posts on the side of the butte above the path, but when darkness had fully come they were all gradually withdrawn. Quietly calling his men about him he explained his plan and told them how they might all save themselves. He sent his men down by the rope, one after another, beginning with the youngest and least important of the company, and so on up to the men of most importance. Last of all the captain of the company himself came down. He and all his men crept quietly in the darkness through the Dakota lines and escaped safely. The Dakotas directed their vigilance mainly toward the other side of the butte where lay the only path, and that a very rugged one, between the base and the summit.

The Pawnees never knew how long the Dakotas kept watch about the rock.

A MANDAN MONUMENT IN COMMEMORATION OF AN ACT OF HEROISM

It is a common instinct among all nations of the human race to preserve relics and record memorials of notable persons and events. Such monuments vary with the different means and materials at hand. Sometimes mounds of earth, sometimes boulders, sometimes cairns of stones, sometimes hewn stones, and various other devices have been used according to circumstances.

There exists a monument to the memory of a Mandan hero which has never before been described and published. The following account is from information given by several persons of the Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara tribes. The location of the monument is near the site of "Fish-hook Village" on the north side of the Missouri River some twelve or fifteen miles east of Elbowoods, North Dakota.

During the middle part of the 19th century the three tribes, Arikara, Hidatsa and Mandan, lived together in alliance against their common enemies. Their chief enemies were the Dakota. So these three tribes built their three villages adjoining, making one compound village of three wards. The village lay upon a well-drained terrace of the Missouri River, while their farms were laid out in the fertile alluvial "bottom" along the river both above and below the village. To the north of the village site lies a range of hills.

The enemy many times made raids upon the village. They would approach under cover of the hills to the north and then steal close upon the village through the course of a ravine which skirted the northeast and north sides of the village.

About sixty-six years ago such an attack was made by a war party of Dakota. Of the defenders of the village, two young Mandans, brothers, named Lefthand and Redleaf, had been dismounted and their retreat cut off by the enemy. A brother of these two, Whitecrow by name, saw the danger of Lefthand and Redleaf and rode out to their assistance. Lefthand was killed and Redleaf was defending the body from a Dakota who was trying to take the scalp. Redleaf shot at the Dakota and missed him, the bullet going over the enemy's head and striking into the ground beyond him, the enemy being crouched low at the time of the shot. Whitecrow rode in a circuit beyond these combatants and held off the attacking party of the enemy. He killed the Dakota who was engaged in combat with his brother Redleaf. Then Whitecrow picked up Redleaf upon the horse with himself and carried him safely back to the village.

After the enemy had been driven away the Mandans went out and marked the course in which Whitecrow had ridden to his brother's rescue, the spot where Lefthand had been killed, the spot where Redleaf had made his stand, the spot where the Dakota was killed, and the spot where Redleaf's bullet fired at the Dakota, had struck the ground. The method used for marking these places was by removal of the sod leaving holes in the ground. To mark the course of Whitecrow's horse the sod was removed in horse-track shaped sections consecutively from the point of advance from the village round the place of combat and returning to the village. The horse-track marks were made about two feet in diameter. All these marks commemorating the entire action, which took place about the year 1853 are still plainly evident, being renewed whenever they tend to become obliterated by weathering and by advancing vegetation.

THE LEGEND OF STANDING ROCK

This story of Standing Rock is a legend of the Arikara who once had their villages along the Missouri River between the Grand River and the Cannonball River. Afterwards, being harrassed by hostile incursions of the Dakotas they abandoned this country to their enemies and moved farther up the Missouri River, joining themselves in alliance with the Mandans.

One time there was a young girl in this tribe who was beautiful and amiable but not given to heedless, chattering, idle amusement. She was thoughtful and earnest and conversant with the ways of all the living creatures, the birds and the small mammals, and the trees and shrubs and flowers of the woodlands and of the prairies. She was in the habit of going to walk by herself to visit and commune with all these living creatures. She understood them better than most other people did, and they all were her friends.

When she became of marriageable age she had many suitors, for she was beautiful and lovely in disposition. But to the young men who wooed her she answered, "I do not find it in my heart to marry any one. I am at home with the bird people, the four-footed people of the woods and prairies, with the people of the flower nations and the trees. I love to work in the cornfields in summer, and the sacred squash blossoms are my dear companions."

Finally her grandmother reasoned with her and told her that it was her duty to marry and to rear children to maintain the strength of the tribe. Because of filial duty she finally said, when her grandmother continued to urge her to marry a certain young man of estimable worth who desired her for his wife, "Well grandmother, I will obey you, but I tell you that good will not come of it. I am not as others are, and Mother Nature did not intend me for marriage."

So she was married and went to the house already prepared for her by her husband. But three days later she came back to her mother's, house, appearing sad and downcast. She sat down without speaking. Finally her grandmother said, "What is it, my child? Is he not kind to you?" The girl answered, "Oh, no, he is not unkind. He treated me well." And with that she sped away into the forest. Her grandmother followed her after a little while, thinking that out among her beloved trees and plants she might open her heart and tell her what was the trouble. And this she did, explaining all the trouble to her grandmother. And she concluded her talk with her grandmother with these words, saying: "And so you see, grandmother, it is as I said when you urged me to marry. I was not intended for marriage. And now my heart is so sad. I should not have married. My spirit is not suited to the bounds of ordinary human living, and my husband is not to be blamed. He is honorable and kind. But I must go away and be with the children of nature." So her grandmother left her there where she was sitting by a clump of choke-cherries, having her sewing kit with her and her little dog by her side.

She did not return home that night, so the next morning young men were sent to search for her. At last she was found sitting upon a hill out upon the prairie, and she was turned to stone from her feet to her waist. The young men hastened back to the village and reported to the officers who had sent them out.

Then the people were summoned by the herald and they all went out to the place where the young woman was. Now they found she had become stone as far up as her breasts.

Then the priests opened the sacred bundle and took the sacred pipe which they filled and lighted and presented it to her lips so that thus she and they in turn smoking from the same pipe might be put in communion and accord with the spirit. But she refused the pipe, and said, "Though I refuse the pipe it is not from disloyalty or because of unwillingness to be at one with my people; but I am different by nature. And you shall know my good will towards my people and my love and remembrance of them always, for whoever in summer time places by this stone a wild flower or a twig of a living tree in winter time or any such token of living, wonderful Nature at any time, shall be glad in his heart, and shall have his desire to be in communion with the heart of Nature." And as she said these words she turned completely into stone, and her little dog, sitting at her feet and leaning close against her was also turned into stone with her. And this stone is still to be seen, and is revered by the people. It is from this stone that the country around Fort Yates, North Dakota, is called Standing Rock.

THE HOLY HILL PAHUK

Each of the nations and tribes of Indians had certain places within its own domain which they regarded as sacred, and to which they accordingly paid becoming reverence. These places were sometimes watersprings, sometimes peculiar hills, sometimes caves, sometimes rocky precipices, sometimes dark, wooded bluffs. Within the ancient domain of the Pawnee nation in Nebraska and northwest Kansas there is a cycle of five such sacred places. The chief one of these five mystic places is called Pahuk by the Pawnee. From its nature it is unique, being distinctly different from any other hill in all the Pawnee country. Pahuk stands in a bend of the Platte River where the stream flows from the west in a sweep abruptly turning toward the southeast. The head of the hill juts out into the course of the river like a promontory or headland, which is the literal meaning of the Pawnee word "pahuk." The north face of the bluff from the water's edge to the summit is heavily wooded. Among the timber are many cedar trees, so that in winter, when the deciduous trees are bare, the bluff is dark with the mass of evergreen cedar. The cedar is a sacred tree, so its presence adds mystery to the place. The Pawnee sometimes also speak of this hill as Nahura Waruksti, which means Sacred or Mysterious Animals. This allusion to the Sacred or Mysterious Animals has reference to the myth which pertains to this place.

All the other tribes throughout the Great Plains region also knew of the veneration in which this hill is held by the Pawnee, so they, too, pay it great respect, and many individuals of the other tribes have personally made pilgrimages to this holy place. The people of the Dakota nation call it Paha Wakan, "the Holy Hill."

The Pawnee speak of the animal world collectively as Nahurak. It was believed that the interrelations of all living beings, plants, animals and human beings, are essentially harmonious, and that all species take a wholesome interest in each other's welfare. It was believed also that under certain conditions ability was given to different orders of living creatures to communicate with men for man's good.

The before-mentioned five sacred places of the Pawnee country were Nahurak lodges. Within these mystic secret places the animals, Nahurak, held council. According to one version the names of the five Nahurak lodges are Pahuk, Nakiskat, Tsuraspako, Kitsawitsak, and Pahua. Pahuk is a bluff on the south side of the Platte River, a few miles west of the city of Fremont, Nebraska; Nakiskat, (Black trees) is an island in the Platte River near Central City, Nebraska, dark with cedar trees; Tsuraspako (Girl Hill) is a hill on the south side of the Platte River opposite Grand Island, Nebraska. It is called Girl Hill because it was customary when a buffalo surround was made in its vicinity for the young girls to stay upon this hill during the surround. The hill is said to be in the form of an earth-lodge, even to the extended vestibule. Kitsawitsak, which white people call Wakonda Springs, is not far from the Solomon River near Beloit, Kansas. The name Kitsawitsak means "Water on the bank." Pahua is said to be a spring near the Republican River in Nebraska. Of these five places Pahuk was chief, and the Nahurak councils of the other lodges acknowledged the superior authority of the council at Pahuk.

There are many stories of the wonderful powers resident in these sacred places. One of these tells of the restoration to life of a boy who had been killed. The story is that a certain man of the Skidi tribe of the Pawnee nation desired to gain the favour of Tirawa (Pawnee name of God). He thought that if he sacrificed something which he valued most highly that Tirawa might grant him some wonderful gift. There were so many things in the world which he did not understand, and which he wished very much to know. He hoped that Tirawa might grant him revelations, that he might know and understand many things which were hidden from the people. He strongly desired knowledge, and he thought that if he sacrificed his young son, who was dear to him, and the pride of his heart, that Tirawa might take pity on him and grant him his desire. He felt very sad to think of killing his son, and he meditated a long time upon the matter. Finally he was convinced in his own mind that Tirawa would be pleased with his sacrifice, and that then the good gifts he desired would be given to him, and that many things now dark to his understanding would be made clear, and that he should have ability given him to do many things which were now beyond his power.

One day this man took his boy with him and walked out from the village as though on some errand. They walked to the Platte River. After they had gone a long distance from the village, as they were walking by the riverside, no other persons being near, the man drew out his knife and stabbed the boy so that he was quickly dead. The man then dropped the body of the dead boy over the bank. After a time he returned to the village, and went into his own lodge and sat down. After a while he asked his wife "Where is the boy?" She said "Why, he went out with you." The man said "I was out of the village, but the boy was not with me."

He went out and inquired of his neighbors, and then all through the village, but of course the boy could not be found. Then for some days a general search was made for the boy, but no trace of him was found. After this the family mourned for the lost boy. It was now time for the summer buffalo hunt, so in a few days the people set out for the buffalo grounds, and the father and mother of the boy also went.

After the boy's body was dropped into the river it was carried away down-stream by the current, sometimes being rolled along in shallow water at the edge of sandbars and again it would be turned over and over in the whirlpool of some deep hole in the channel, for the Platte River is a peculiar stream, having a swift current but a wide course with deep holes and many sandbars.

After a time the body floated down nearly to Pahuk. Two buzzards were sitting on the edge of a bluff, gazing over the water. So, sitting there, one of the buzzards stretched out his neck and looked up the river. He thought he saw something in the water floating down-stream. He stretched his neck again and looked, and turned to the other buzzard and said "I see a body." Then they both looked towards the object in the water, stretching out their necks and gazing intently. They saw that the object was the body of the boy. The first one said "What shall we do about this?" The second one said "Let us carry the body down to Pahuk, to the hill where Nahurak Waruksti is." So they both flew down to the floating body and got under it and lifted it upon their backs and carried it to the top of the bluff called Pahuk, over the secret cave of the Nahurak Waruksti, and there they placed it upon the ground. Then the two buzzards stood quietly gazing upon the body of the boy where they had laid it down upon the ground.

This cave far under the hill was the council lodge of the animals. There sat the councilmen of all kinds of animals and birds, great and small, which were native to that country. There were the buffalo, the beaver, elk, deer, antelope, otter, muskrat, wolf, bear, fox, wildcat, badger, bean mice, and many other kinds of animals. And there were the swan, the loon, goose, duck, wild turkey, prairie chicken, quail, heron, bittern, crane, plover, kildeer, meadowlark, blackbird, owls, hawks, swallows, crow, chickadee, woodpeckers, grackle, purple martin, and many other kinds of birds. There were also snakes, turtles, toads and frogs. These were the Nahurak people, the Nahurak Waruksti, the Sacred Animals. And the kingfisher was a messenger and errand man for the Nahurak council.

Now it happened when the buzzards brought the body of the young man and laid it down on the top of Pahuk, the kingfisher, who was flying about over the river on business for the Nahurak, was flying by. He stopped and looked at the body. He already knew all that had happened, and he was moved with compassion for the boy. So he flew down at once to the water at the foot of Pahuk and dived in at the entrance of the Nahurak lodge. He spoke to the assembly of the Nahurak and told them all that had happened and said in conclusion, "And the poor boy is up there on the hill. I hope you will have pity on him and will do what you can for him. I wish you would bring him to life again." When the kingfisher, the messenger, had finished speaking the Nahurak held serious council on the matter to decide what they should do. But after they had meditated long on the question, and each had spoken, they still could not decide the matter. The kingfisher urged the matter, asking for a favourable decision, saying, "Come, do take pity on him and restore him to life." But they could not come to a decision. At last the chief of the council said, "No, messenger, we are unable to decide now. You must go to the other Nahurak lodges and find out what they have to say about it." The kingfisher said "I go," and flew swiftly out from the lodge and up the river to Nakiskat, the Nahurak lodge near Lone Tree. There he brought the matter before the council and pleaded for the boy as he had done at Pahuk, and told them that he was sent from Pahuk to ask the council at Nakiskat for their decision. So the Nahurak here at Nakiskat talked over the matter, but at last they said to the kingfisher "We are unable to decide. We leave it to the council at Pahuk."

Then the kingfisher flew to the lodge at Tsuraspako, then to Kitsawitsak, and at last to Pahua, and at each place the Nahurak council considered the matter carefully and talked about it, but at each place the same answer was given. They all said "It is too much for us. We cannot decide what should be done. It is for the council at Pahuk to decide."

After the messenger had visited all these lodges and had laid the matter before all of them, receiving from each the same answer, he flew as swiftly as he could back to the lodge at Pahuk and reported what the other lodges had said. They all recognized the council at Pahuk as the head council, and deferred the matter to them for decision. But it had already been once considered by this council, so the matter was now brought before the supreme council of Pahuk. This was a council of four chiefs of the Pahuk council who sat as judges to give final consideration and decision. These judges now reconsidered the matter, and finally, when they had talked it over, they said to the kingfisher, "Now, messenger, we will not decide this question, but will leave it to you. You shall make the decision."

The kingfisher very quickly gave his decision. He said "It is my desire that this poor boy be restored to life. I hope you will all have pity on him and do what you can for him."

Then all the Nahurak arose and went out from the council lodge and went up to the top of Pahuk where the body of the boy lay. They formed in order and stood around the boy and prayed to the Higher Powers, and at last the boy drew breath, then after a time he breathed again, then his breath began to be regular. Finally he opened his eyes and sat up and looked around in a confused manner. When he saw all the animals standing around him he was puzzled and bewildered. He said to himself, "Why, my father killed me by the riverside, but here I am in the midst of this multitude of animals. What does it mean?"

Then the head chief of the Nahurak council spoke to him kindly and reassured him. He was asked to rise and go with the animals into the council lodge. When all had gone in and were seated the four judges conferred together, then the chief of the four stood up and said, "My people, we have restored this boy to life, but he is poor and forlorn and needy. Let us do something for him. Let us teach him all we know, and impart to him our mysterious powers." The Nahurak were all pleased at this proposal and manifested their approval.

Then the Nahurak showed hospitality and kind attention to the poor boy as their guest. He was shown a place to bathe and rest. When he had rested, food was brought to him. So he was entertained and treated kindly for the full season, and he was instructed by all the animals in turn and they taught him their secret arts of healing and imparted to him all their wonderful powers. So he remained with them at Pahuk till autumn.

Autumn is a beautiful season at Pahuk, and in all the region of the Platte, the Loup, the Republican, and the Solomon rivers in Nebraska and Kansas embraced by the cycle of the five Nahurak lodges. At that season in that country the sun casts a mellow golden light from the sky, while the land is emblazed with the brilliance of the sunflowers and goldenrod. And then the air is quiet and restful.

So one day at this season the Nahurak said to the boy, "It is now the time when the swallows, the blackbirds, the meadowlarks, and other kinds of birds will be gathering into flocks to fly away to the south-land for the winter. The beavers are cutting trees and saplings to store the branches under water for their winter food supply of bark; they are also gathering into their houses certain kinds of roots for food. The muskrats are repairing their houses and are storing in them the tubers of the water-lilies and of the arrow-leaf and of other kinds of plants for their winter supply. In the edge of the timber, where the ground beans grow, the bean mice are making their store-houses and filling them with ground beans and artichokes. And your people have returned from the buffalo hunt with a good supply of dried meat and hides. They are now busy at home gathering and storing their crops of corn, of beans, and of squashes and pumpkins. We have this past summer instructed you in our arts of healing and other learning, and have imparted to you our mysterious powers, and have taught you about our ways of living. You are now competent to use for the good of your people the remedies and perform the mysteries which were given to us by Tirawa, and which we have now given to you. So you may now return to the village of your people. Go to the chiefs of the village and tell them what the Nahurak have done for you, and say to them that the people are to bring together gifts of dried buffalo meat and dried corn and dried choke-cherries, and other kinds of food; of robes and leggings and moccasins embroidered with porcupine quills; and of tobacco for incense. All these things the people are to send by you as gifts to the Nahurak at Pahuk in recognition of the favour which the Nahurak showed to you."

So the boy parted from his animal friends at Pahuk, and promised to return and visit them, and to bring them presents to show his thankfulness and the thankfulness of his people for what the animals had done for him. He traveled on up the Platte River and reached the village of his people in the night. He went to his father's house. He found his father and mother asleep and the fire had burned low. There was only a little light from the coals. He went to his mother's bed and touched her shoulder and spoke to her to waken her. He said "It is I. I have come back." When his mother saw him and heard his voice she was surprised, but she was glad-hearted to see her boy again. So she wakened the boy's father and told him the boy had come back. When the father saw the boy he thought it must be his ghost, and he was afraid. But the boy did not mention anything that had happened nor say where he had been. He said only "I have come back again."

The next day some of the people saw him, and they were surprised. They told their neighbors, and soon it was rumored all over the village that the boy had returned. They came where he was and stood around and looked at him and asked him questions, but he told them nothing. But he went to the chiefs of the village and made his report to them. Afterwards he gave account to the people, saying, "I have been away all summer with friends, with people who have been very good to me. Now I should like to take them a present of dried meat and other good things, so that we can have a feast. I beg you to help me, my friends." So they brought together a quantity of the articles required, and they chose some young men to go with him to help carry the gifts to the people who had befriended him.

So the boy and his companions went on the way towards the Nahurak lodge at Pahuk. When they came near to the place the boy dismissed the young men who had accompanied him, and they went back to the village. Now the boy went on alone and met the kingfisher, the messenger of the Nahurak, and sent word by him that he had come to visit the Nahurak, and had brought presents from his people. So the boy was invited into the lodge and all the Nahurak made sounds of gladness at seeing him again. The boy brought in the presents which had been sent by his people and they had a feast. After the feast they held a doctors' ceremony. They reviewed all the things that the Nahurak had taught him during the summer that he had spent with them. Then the boy was made a doctor, and he was now able to do many wonderful things.

After this the time came for the young man to return again to the village of his people. The animals were thankful and gave praise to Tirawa for the gifts which the young man had brought to them. And the young man was thankful to the animals and he praised Tirawa for what the animals had done for him. Then he returned to the village of his people. He never told the people what his father had done to him.

The young man lived a long and useful life among his people and attained much honour. He did many wonderful things for his people and healed them of their diseases and injuries. In time he gathered about him a group of other young men, who, like himself, were of serious and thoughtful mind, and who had desire toward the welfare of the people. These young men became his disciples, and to them he taught the mysteries which had been imparted to him by the animals of the lodge at Pahuk. These wise men in turn taught other worthy inquirers, and these again others; and so these mysteries and learning and the healing arts have come down from that long-ago time to the present among the Pawnee people.

THE LODGE OF THE BLACK-TAIL DEER WHICH TALKED WITH ITS CAPTOR

North Dakota has a number of places to which attach interesting legends and myths. One such place is a butte not far from Schmitt on the south side of the Missouri River on the road between Mandan and Cannon Ball. It is west of Eagle-beak Butte.

The story of this butte is a Mandan myth. A long time ago the Mandans lived in a village which was on a level place just north of the Bad Water Creek, which white people call Little Heart River. At the west of this place there is a range of high hills. The Mandans lived at the Bad Water Village in the time long before white men had come across the great water, so there were no horses in the country. The people had no animals except dogs to help them carry their burdens. And of course they had never heard of the thunder-irons (guns) which strike and kill the deer and other game at long distance. So it was hard work to obtain their supplies of meat and to carry the same home to their houses.

A man who lived in the Bad Water village had dug a deer pit in a place among the hills west of the village and cunningly covered it over to appear not different from the ground about it. By this means he hoped to capture a deer whose flesh would be food for his family, and whose skin would be useful for making clothing; whose sinew would be used for thread, some of its bones to be used for making awls and needles, others for other useful implements and tools. Its horns would be used to make garden rakes for working the ground of his family's garden.

One morning in autumn there had been a snowfall during the preceding night, the first snowfall of the season. The man went out early in the morning into the hills to look at his trap to see if it might have caught something during the night. As he approached the place he saw that the cover was broken through, and when he came near and looked in he was rejoiced to see that he had captured a fine large black-tail deer.

Now when he came to the edge of the pit and looked down at his prize the deer looked up at him and spoke to him, saying, "O, man, do not kill me, but let me go free from the pit. If you release me you will do well." The man was surprised to hear the deer speak to him like a man, and he was disappointed to think of losing his prize. But he thought to himself, "This is something mysterious, I must give heed; I must not defy the Mysterious Power, but listen to the message; for it must be that some Mysterious Power wishes to impart something to me through this animal as its messenger." So as he thus hesitated in doubt the deer again made its plea and requested to be set free. But the man spoke of his duty to his family, who looked to him for food and for clothing. Again the deer spoke and said, "Indeed you do well to think of your family, and your endeavor to provide for them as well as you can is prompted both by your love and duty. But I say to you that you would do well if you allow me to go. If you do so, I promise you that you will have success in hunting; you shall find game abundant for the needs of yourself and family. And when war comes upon your people you shall be victorious over the enemy. So shall you be remembered among your people for bravery."

The man gave heed to what the deer said to him, and he dared not disobey the message which had come to him in this mysterious way. So now he began to dig down the side of the pit so that the deer could come out. When he had finished he said to the deer, "Now you may go." Then the deer came up the incline from the pit and ran down across the Bad Water Creek away toward the Eagle Beak Hill. As he ran the new fallen snow flew behind him from his hoofs in a white cloud, and he sang a song:

"I was glad when I saw the first snow,
But I almost lost the sight of day."

The man watched the deer as it ran and observed that when it approached a conical butte west of Eagle-beak Butte that the butte opened with a loud roaring sound and the deer entered and he saw it no more, and then the butte closed again as before.

The man went home pondering these things in his mind. As time passed events came true as they had been promised to him in the message spoken to him by the deer. He became renowned among his people for his skill and success in the chase, for his generosity to the old people and to the sick and poor, and he attained many honors for his deeds of valour in warfare against the enemies of his people.

Ever since that time the Mandans have called the butte into which the deer disappeared after its release from the pit, The Lodge of the Black-tail Deer.

THE WONDERFUL BASKET

_A Mandan Story_

Indians of all tribes held the thought of the brotherhood of all living nature, of the trees and flowers and grasses, of the fishes in the waters, of the living things which creep or walk or run on the land and of the birds which fly above the earth, and of human beings. And they believed that human beings often gained wisdom and useful information through dreams and visions in which the guardian spirits of any of these other living creatures talked to them, revealing to chosen, attentive and worthy persons, secrets of nature which were hidden from the careless and unworthy.

Among most tribes the cedar tree is considered to possess a property of mystery and sacredness. For this reason twigs of cedar were often burned as incense in a sacred fire for the purpose of driving away evil influences. And if a person reclined under the shelter of cedar trees the healing power and strength of their spirit would come to him and his own spirit would thus gain composure and strength to meet life's troubles.

Once in the old times a woman was resting under a cedar tree. She was weary from her work, and as the gentle wind sighed among the thick green branches above her she dropped to sleep. While she slept the cedar tree spoke to her in a soft murmuring voice, and the woman gave heed to the words of the cedar tree.

And this is what the cedar tree said to the woman: "Sister, if you will dig down into the earth you will find there my slender, strong, pliant roots. Take up some of these and weave them into a basket. You shall find thereafter that some good shall come of it. It shall bring good to you and to all women."

So the woman did as she was told by the cedar tree. She took up the slender roots and wove of them a basket. The basket was light but strong, and so pliant that it could be rolled into a small bundle when empty, though it was large enough to hold many things when it was opened out.

One day the woman took the basket with her and walked far out upon the prairie where tipsin grew in abundance. She dug a quantity of the sweet and wholesome roots to take home for food for herself and her family. The tipsin roots grow so deep in the tough prairie sod that it is hard work to dig them, so when she had filled her basket she was very tired. She sat down to rest and sighed for very weariness, and the tears came to her eyes. She said, "Alas! now I must carry home this heavy load although I am already weary and faint."

Then the basket whispered to her "Do not cry. Wipe away your tears; bathe your hot cheeks with water at the brook; be glad, for I am your friend."

Then the woman wiped away her tears and went and bathed her cheeks and brushed her hair. When she returned the basket seemed to smile. It said to her "You were troubled for nothing. You forget what the cedar tree said to you in your dreams. You were told that good would come to you if you made a basket as you were instructed. Now you need not carry your load; but sing and be glad and walk on to the village. I shall come with you, carrying your load."

So the woman went on her way home, singing from happiness, while the basket kept by her side carrying the load of tipsin roots.

As she came near the village the women knew by her happy singing voice that some good thing had happened to her. Then as they looked up they saw her coming, and with her was coming the wonderful basket carrying the load.

Then all her neighbors begged her to teach them how to make a wonderful basket. So she taught them as she had been taught by the holy cedar tree how to make a wonderful basket out of its tiny roots.

And so, from that time, whenever a woman went out to gather June berries or wild cherries, or raspberries, or wild plums or pembinas or tipsin, or wild rice; or to their cultivated fields to gather corn or beans, she was not obliged to carry the load home. When she was ready she started towards the village singing, and the basket came with her cheerfully carrying the burden.

One day, long after this, a woman had found the winter store-house of the hintunka people, which they make under-ground, and into which they garner their store of food for the winter time. The hard-working hintunka people put away in their store-houses quantities of wild ground beans, various kinds of seeds and roots and tubers to provide themselves food for the cold time when the ground is frozen and the earth is covered with snow.

It happened that the woman who found this store-house of the hintunka people was one who was not considerate of the rights of other people. She thought only that here was a quantity of food which was desirable and easy to obtain. So she filled her basket with the wild ground beans which are so delicious when cooked with bits of meat. She cared not that it had cost the hintunka people many weary hours of hard work to dig these beans and bring them together in this place, nor did she care that without them the hintunka people, their old people and their little ones, all would be left destitute of food and must perish from famine.

While she was filling her basket a poor little hintunka woman cried pitifully and said, "This is our food. We have worked hard for it. You ought not to rob us of it. Without it we shall die miserably of hunger." But the woman took the beans and heeded not the pitiful crying of the hintunka woman. She had filled her basket, and was making ready to go home but there was no song in her heart.

Then, while the filled basket sat there waiting a coyote standing near by, laughed. At this the basket was vexed, and said, "You are rude. Why do you laugh at me?" But the coyote only laughed all the more. This annoyed the basket greatly, and made it feel very uneasy and distressed, for it knew something must be wrong. And it said to the coyote, "Do tell me why you laugh. What is it which is strange?"

Then the coyote replied, "I laugh because you are so foolish. For a long time you have been carrying burdens to the village while the women go their way singing."

But the basket said, "I am not foolish, I have the good spirit of the cedar tree. I am willing to carry burdens to help the women. I am glad when I hear their joyful singing." The coyote said, "But what do you get for it, friend? You work like a slave. You receive nothing for it. No one offers you a mouthful of food. When you rest for a time from your labor you are not covered with a robe made beautiful with quill-work. When you have carried burdens for a woman she merely hangs you upon a peg on the wall till the next time she wishes you to carry something for her."

As the basket considered the things which the coyote said it began to be discontented. It felt that it had been treated unfairly; that it had no pay nor thanks for all it had done, and so the basket was sulky, and refused to carry the load to the village, and the woman at last had to take up the burden and carry it upon her back; and she felt aggrieved and bitter because the basket would not carry it for her. She did not consider that all the service she had ever had from the basket was from kindness and good will and not from obligation.

And ever since that time the women have had to carry burdens upon their backs, for the baskets no longer carried burdens for them.

CAUSE OF THE BREAKING UP OF THE ICE IN THE MISSOURI RIVER IN SPRINGTIME

_A Myth of the Dakota Nation_

It is said that in the long ago there was a mysterious being within the stream of the Missouri River. It was seldom seen by human beings, and was most dreadful to see. It is said that sometimes it was seen within the water in the middle of the stream, causing a redness shining like the redness of fire as it passed up the stream against the current with a terrific roaring sound.

And they say that if this dreadful being was seen by anyone in the daytime anyone who thus saw it soon after became crazy and continued restless and writhing as though in pain until he was relieved by death. And it is said that one time not a very great many years ago this frightful being was seen by a man, and he told how it appeared. He said that it was of strange form and covered all over with hair like a buffalo, but red in color; that it had only one eye in the middle of its forehead, and above that a single horn. Its backbone stood out notched and jagged like an enormous saw. As soon as the man beheld the awful sight everything became dark to him, he said. He was just able to reach home, but he lost his reason and soon after that he died.

It is said this mysterious "Miniwashitu" (water monster) still lives in the Missouri River, and that in springtime, as it moves up-stream against the current it breaks up the ice of the river. This water monster was held in awe and dread by the people.

THE WATER-SPRING OF THE HOLY MAN

_A Myth of the Dakota Nation_

Long ago there was a village of people of the Dakota Nation, which was situated on the east side of the great river which they call the Muddy-Water River, but which white people call the Missouri River. The white people named it so from the Missouri nation of Indians on the lower course of this great river.

This village we have just mentioned was on the east side of the river nearly opposite to the mouth of the Cannonball River. The people were happy in this village, for it was a pleasant place. There was plenty of wood for their fires, and there was an abundance of buffalo berries, wild plums, choke-cherries, June berries, wild grapes, wild raspberries and other fruit growing in the woods. Upon the high prairie there was much tipsin, whose roots are so good when cooked with meat or with dried green corn. Moreover, in the timber were many boxelder trees, whose sap was made into sugar in early spring time. Not far away were some lakes where there were many wild ducks and geese and other water fowl. The flesh of these fowl, and also their eggs were good food. Upon the prairie were herds of buffalo and antelope and elk, and in the timber along the river were many deer.

And below the hills, on the level ground of the river valley there was fertile soil where they planted their fields of corn and beans and squashes. They also cultivated the great sunflowers whose seeds are so good for food.