 | Dahcotah, or, Life and legends of the Sioux around Fort Snelling |  |
THE DAHCOTAH CONVERT.
“Tell me,” said, Hiatu-we-noken-chah, or `woman of
the night,' “the Great Spirit whom you have taught me to
fear, why has he made the white woman rich and happy,
and the Dahcotah poor and miserable?” She spoke with
bitterness when she remembered the years of sorrow that
had made up the sum of her existence.
But how with the missionary's wife? had her life been
one bright dream—had her days been always full of gladness—her
nights quiet and free from care? Had she never
longed for the time of repose, that darkness might cover her
as with a mantle—and when `sleep forsook the wretched,”
did she not pray for the breaking of the day, that she might
again forget all in the performance of the duties of her station?
Could it be that the Creator had balanced the happiness
of one portion of his children against the wretchedness
of the rest? Let her story answer.
Her home is now among the forests of the west. As a
child she would tremble when she heard of the savage
whose only happiness was in shedding the blood of his fellow
creatures. The name of an “Indian” when uttered by
her nurse would check the boisterous gayety of the day or
the tedious restlessness of the night.
As she gathered flowers on the pleasant banks of the
Sciota, would it not have brought paleness to her cheek to
have whispered her that not many years would pass over
her, before she would be far away from the scenes of her
youth?
And as she uttered the marriage vow, how little did she
think that soon would her broken spirit devote time, energies,
life, to the good of others; as an act of duty and, but
for the faith of the Christian, of despair. For several
years she only wept with others when they sorrowed; fair
children followed her footsteps, and it was happiness to guide
their voices, as they, like the morning stars, sang together;
or to listen to their evening prayer as they folded their
hands in childlike devotion ere they slept.
And when the father returned from beside the bed of
death, where his skill could no longer alleviate the parting
agonies of the sufferer: how would he hasten to look upon
the happy faces of his children, in order to forget the scene
he had just witnessed. But, man of God as he was, there
was not always peace in his soul; yet none could see that
he had cause for care. He was followed by the blessings
of those who were ready to perish. He essayed to make
the sinner repent, and to turn the thoughts of the dying to
Him who suffered death on the cross.
But for months the voice of the Spirit spake to his heart;
he could not forget the words—“Go to the wretched Dahcotahs,
their bodies are suffering, and their souls, immortal
like thine, are perishing. Soothe their temporal cares, and
more, tell them the triumphs of the Redeemer's love.”
But it was hard to give up friends, and all the comforts
with which he was surrounded: to subject his wife to the
of the advantages of education and good influences, and
instead—to show them life as it is with those who know not
God. But the voice said, “Remember the Dahcotahs.”
Vainly did he struggle with the conflict of duty against inclination.
The time has come when the parents must weep for
themselves. No longer do the feet of their children tread
among the flowers; fever has paralyzed their strength, and
vainly does the mother call upon the child, whose eyes wander
in delirium, who knows not her voice from a stranger's.
Nor does the Destroyer depart when one has sunk into a
sleep from which there is no awakening until the morn of
the resurrection. He claims another, and who shall resist
that claim!
As the father looks upon the still forms of his children,
as he sees the compressed lips, the closed eyes of the beings
who were but a few days ago full of life and happiness, the
iron enters his soul; but as the Christian remembers who
has afflicted him, his spirit rises above his sorrow. Nor is
there now any obstacle between him and the path of duty.
The one child that remains must be put in charge of those
who will care for her, and he will go where God directs.
But will the mother give up the last of her children? it
matters not now where she lives, but she must part with
husband or child! Self has no part in her schemes; secure
in her trust in God she yields up her child to her
friend, and listens not to the suggestions of those who
would induce her to remain where she would still enjoy
the comforts of life. Nothing should separate her from her
husband. “Entreat me not to leave thee; where thou goest
buried.”
And as the Dahcotah woman inquires of the justice of
God, the faces of her children rise up before her—first in
health, with bright eyes and lips parted with smiles, and then
as she last saw them—their hands white to transparency,
the hue of death upon their features; the shrouds, the little
coffins, the cold lips, as she pressed them for the last time.
The Dahcotah looked in astonishment at the grief which
for a few moments overcame the usual calmness of her kind
friend; and as she wondered why, like her, she should shed
bitter tears, she heard herself thus addressed—
“Do not think that you alone have been unhappy. God
afflicts all his children. There is not a spot on the earth
which is secure from sorrow. Have I not told you why?
This world is not your home or mine. Soon will our bodies
lie down in the earth—and we would forget this, if we were
always happy.
“And you should not complain though your sorrows
have been great. Do not forget the crown of thorns which
pressed the brow of the Saviour, the cruel nails that pierced
his hands and feet, the desertion of his friends, his fear that
God his Father had forsaken him. And remember that
after death the power of those who hated him ceased; the
grave received but could not keep his body. He rose from
the dead, and went to Heaven, where he has prepared a
place for all who love him; for me and mine, I trust, and
for you too, if you are careful to please him by serving him
yourself, and by endeavoring to induce your friends to give
up their foolish and wicked superstitions, and to worship
the true God who made all things.”
2. CHAPTER II.
The Dahcotahs believe in the existence of a Great Spirit,
but they have very confused ideas of his attributes. Those
who have lived near the missionaries, say that the Great
Spirit lived forever, but their own minds would never have
conceived such an idea. Some say that the Great Spirit
has a wife.
They say that this being created all things but thunder
and wild rice; and that he gave the earth and all animals
to them, and that their feasts and customs were the laws by
which they are to be governed. But they do not fear the
anger of this deity after death.
Thunder is said to be a large bird; the name that they
give to thunder is the generic term for all animals that
fly. Near the source of the St. Peters is a place called
Thunder-tracks—where the footpsrint of the thunder-bird
are seen in the rocks, twenty-five miles apart.
The Dahcotahs believe in an evil spirit as well as a good,
but they do not consider these spirits as opposed to each
other; they do not think that they are tempted to do wrong
by this evil spirit; their own hearts are bad. It would be
impossible to put any limit to the number of spirits in
whom the Dahcotahs believe; every object in nature is full
of them. They attribute death as much to the power of
these subordinate spirits as to the Great Spirit, but most
frequently they suppose death to have been occasioned by
a spell having been cast upon them by some enemy.
The sun and moon are worshipped as emblems of their
deity.
Sacrifice is a religous ceremony among them; but no
missionary has yet been able to find any reference to the
one great Atonement made for sin; none of their customs
or traditions authorize any such connection. They sacrifice
to all the spirits; but they have a stone, painted red,
which they call Grandfather, and on or near this, they
place their most valuable articles, their buffalo robes, dogs,
and even horses; and on one occasion a father killed a
child as a kind of sacrifice. They frequently inflict severe
bruises or cuts upon their bodies, thinking thus to propitiate
their gods.
The belief in an evil spirit is said by some not to be a
part of the religion of the Dahcotahs. They perhaps obtained
this idea from the whites. They have a far greater
fear of the spirits of the dead, especially those whom they
have offended, than of Wahkon-tun-kah, the Great Spirit.
One of the punishments they most dread is that of the
body of an animal entering theirs to make them sick. Some
of the medicine men, the priests, and the doctors of the
Dahcotahs, seem to have an idea of the immortality of the
soul but intercourse with the whites may have originated
this. They know nothing of the resurrection.
They have no custom among them that indicates the
belief that man's heart should be holy. The faith in spirits,
dreams, and charms, the fear that some enemy, earthly or
spiritual, may be secretly working their destruction by a
spell, is as much a part of their creed, as the existence of
the Great Spirit.
A good dream will raise their hopes of success in whatever
they may be undertaking to the highest pitch; a bad
one will make them despair of accomplishing it. Their religion
is a superstition, including as few elements of truth
and reason as perhaps any other of which the particulars are
known. They worship they “know not what,” and this
from the lowest motives.
When they go out to hunt, or on a war party, they pray
to the Great Spirit—“Father, help us to kill the buffalo.”
“Let us soon see deer”—or, “Great Spirit help us to kill
our enemies.”
They have no hymns of praise to their Deity; they fast
occasionally at the time of their dances. When they
dance in honor of the sun, they refrain from eating for two
days.
The Dahcotahs do not worship the work of their hands;
but they consider every object that the Great Spirit has
made, from the highest mountain to the smallest stone, as
worthy of their idolatry.
They have a vague idea of a future state; many have
dreamed of it. Some of their medicine men pretend to
have had revelations from bears and other animals; and
they thus learned that their future existence would be
but a continuation of this. They will go on long hunts
and kill many buffalo; bright fires will burn in their wigwams
as they talk through the long winter's night of the
traditions of their ancients; their women are to tan deer-skin
for their mocassins, while their young children learn
to be brave warriors by attacking and destroying wasps' or
hornets' nests; they will celebrate the dog feast to show
how brave they are, and sing in triumph as they dance
the Dahcotahs! Almost every Indian has the image of an
animal or bird tattooed on his breast or arm, which can
charm away an evil spirit, or prevent his enemy from bringing
trouble or death upon him by a secret shot. The power
of life rests with mortals, especially with their medicine
men; they believe that if an enemy be shooting secretly at
them, a spell or charm must be put in requisition to counteract
their power.
The medicine men or women, who are initiated into the
secrets of their wonderful medicines, (which secret is as
sacred with them as free-masonry is to its members) give the
feast which they call the medicine feast.
Their medicine men, who profess to administer to the
affairs of soul and body are nothing more than jugglers,
and are the worst men of the tribe: yet from fear alone
they claim the entire respect of the community.
There are numerous clans among the Dahcotahs each
using a different medicine, and no one knows what this
medicine is but those who are initiated into the mysteries
of the medicine dance, whose celebration is attended with
the utmost ceremony.
A Dahcotah would die before he would divulge the secret
of his clan. All the different clans unite at the great medicine
feast.
And from such errors as these must the Dahcotah turn
if he would be a Christian! And the heart of the missionary
would faint within him at the work which is before
him, did he not remember who has said “Lo, I am with you
always!”
And it was long before the Indian woman could give up the
and arms will to the grave bear witness of her belief in the
faith of her fathers, which influenced her in youth. Yet
the subduing of her passions, the quiet performance of her
duties, the neatness of her person, and the order of her
house, tell of the influence of a better faith, which sanctifies
the sorrows of this life, and rejoices her with the hope of
another and a better state of existence.
But such instances are rare. These people have resisted
as encroachments upon their rights the efforts that have
been made for their instruction. Kindness and patience,
however, have accomplished much, and during the last year
they have, in several instances, expressed a desire for the
aid and instructions of missionaries. They seem to wish
them to live among them; though formerly the lives of
those who felt it their duty to remain were in constant
peril.
They depend more, too, upon what the ground yields
them for food, and have sought for assistance in ploughing
it.
There are four schools sustained by the Dahcotah mission;
in all there are about one hundred and seventy children;
the average attendance about sixty.
The missionaries feel that they have accomplished something,
and they are encouraged to hope for still more. They
have induced many of the Dahcotahs to be more temperate;
and although few, comparatively, attend worship at
the several stations, yet of those few some exhibit hopeful
signs of conversion.
There are five mission stations among the Dahcotahs; at
“Lac qui parle,” on the St. Peter's river, in sight of the
“Travers des Sioux” about eighty miles from Fort Snelling;
at Xapedun, Oak-grove, and Kapoja, the last three
being within a few miles of Fort Snelling.
There are many who think that the efforts of those
engaged in instructing the Dahcotahs are thrown away.
They cannot conceive why men of education, talent, and
piety, should waste their time and attainments upon a people
who cannot appreciate their efforts. If the missionaries
reasoned on worldly principles, they would doubtless
think so too; but they devote the energies of soul and body
to Him who made them for His own service.
They are pioneers in religion; they show the path that
others will walk in far more easily at some future day;
they undertake what others will carry on,—what God himself
will accomplish. They have willingly given up the
advantages of this life, to preach the gospel to the degraded
Dahcotahs. They are translating the Bible into Sioux;
many of the books are translated, and to their exertions it
is owing that the praise of God has been sung by the children
of the forest in their own language.
3. CHAPTER III.
However absurd may be the religion of the Dahcotahs,
they are zealous in their devotion to it. Nothing is allowed
to interfere with it. Are their women planting corn, which
is to be in a great measure depended upon for food during
stop to celebrate a dance or a feast, either of which is a
part of their religion. How many Christians satisfy their
consciences by devoting one day of the week to God, feeling
themselves thus justified in devoting the other six entirely
to the world! But it is altogether different with the
Dahcotahs, every act of their life is influenced by their religion,
such as it is.
They believe they are a great people, that their country
is unrivalled in beauty, their religion without fault. Many
of the Dahcotahs, now living near Fort Snelling, say
that they have lived on the earth before in some region far
distant, that they died, and for a time their spirits wandered
through the world seeking the most beautiful and
delightful country to live in, and that after examining all
parts of the earth they fixed upon the country of the Dahcotahs.
In fact, dreams, spells and superstitious fears, constitute
a large part of the belief of the Dahcotahs. But of all their
superstitious notions the most curious is the one which occasions
the dance called Ho-saw-kah-u-tap-pe, or Fish
dance, where the fish is eaten raw.
Some days since, an Indian who lives at Shah-co-pee's
village dreamed of seeing a cormorant, a bird which feeds
on fish. He was very much alarmed, and directed his friend
to go out and catch a fish, and to bring the first one he
caught to him.
The Indian did so, and the fish, which was a large pike,
was painted with blue clay. Preparations were immediately
made to celebrate the Fish dance, in order to ward off
any danger of which the dream might have been the omen.
A circle was formed of brush, on one side of which the
Indians pitched a wigwam. The war implements were
then brought inside the ring, and a pole stuck up in the
centre, with the raw fish, painted blue, hung upon it.
The men then enter the ring, almost naked; their bodies
painted black, excepting the breast and arms, which are
varied in color according to the fancy of each individual.
Inside the ring is a bush for each dancer; in each bush a
nest, made to resemble a cormorant's nest; and outside the
ring is an Indian metamorphosed for the occasion into a
wolf—that is, he has the skin of a wolf drawn over him,
and hoops fixed to his hands to enable him to run easier
on all fours; and in order to sustain the character which he
has assumed, he remains outside, lurking about for food.
All being ready, the medicine men inside the wigwam
commence beating a drum and singing. This is the signal
for all the cormorants (Indians), inside the ring, to commence
quacking and dancing and using their arms in imitation
of wings, keeping up a continual flapping. Thus
for some time they dance up to and around the fish—when
the bravest among them will snap at the fish, and if he have
good teeth will probably bite off a piece, if not, he will slip
his hold and flap off again.
Another will try his luck at this delicious food, and so
they continue, until they have made a beginning in the
way of eating the fish. Then each cormorant flaps up
and takes a bite, and then flaps off to his nest, in which
the piece of fish is concealed, for fear the wolves may
get it.
After a while, the wolf is seen emerging from his retreat,
painted so hideously as to frighten away the Indian children.
general quacking and flapping takes place, each one rushing
to his nest to secure his food.
This food each cormorant seizes and tries to swallow,
flapping his wings and stretching out his neck as a young
bird will when fed by its mother.
After the most strenuous exertions they succeed in swallowing
the raw fish. While this is going on, the wolf
seizes the opportunity to make a snap at the remainder of
the fish, seizes it with his teeth, and makes his way out of the
ring, as fast as he can, on all fours. The whole of the fish,
bones and all, must be swallowed; not the smallest portion
of it can be left, and the fish must only be touched by the
mouth—never with the hands. This dance is performed by
the men alone—their war implements must be sacred from
the touch of women.
Such scenes are witnessed every day at the Dahcotah
villages. The missionary sighs as he sees how determined is
their belief in such a religion. Is it not a source of rejoicing
to be the means of turning one fellow-creature from a faith
like this?
A few years ago and every Dahcotah woman reverenced
the fish-dance as holy and sacred—even too sacred for her
to take a part in it. She believed the medicine women
could foretell future events; and, with an injustice hardly to
be accounted for, she would tell you it was lawful to beat
a girl as much as you chose, but a sin to strike a boy!
She gloried in dancing the scalp dance—aye, even exulted
at the idea of taking the life of an enemy herself.
But there are instances in which these things are all laid
aside beneath the light of Christianity; instances in which
her former faith; blesses God who inclined the missionary
to leave his home and take up his abode in the country of
the savage; and sings to the praise of God in her own
tongue as she sits by the door of her wigwam. She smiles
as she tells you that her “face is dark, but that she hopes
her heart has been changed; and that she will one day sing
in heaven, where the voices of the white people and of the
converted Dahcotahs, will mingle in a song of love to Him
`who died for the whole world.”'
| Dahcotah, or, Life and legends of the Sioux around Fort Snelling | |