 | Dahcotah, or, Life and legends of the Sioux around Fort Snelling |  |
OYE-KAR-MANI-VIM;
THE TRACK-MAKER.
1. CHAPTER I.
It was in the summer of 183-, that a large party of
Chippeways visited Fort Snelling. There was peace between
them and the Sioux. Their time was passed in
feasting and carousing; their canoes together flew over the
waters of the Mississippi. The young Sioux warriors
found strange beauty in the oval faces of the Chippeway
girls; and the Chippeways discovered (what was actually
the case) that the women of the Dahcotahs were far more
graceful than those of their own nation.
But as the time of the departure of the Chippeways
approached, many a Chippeway maiden wept when she
remembered how soon she would bid adieu to all her hopes
of happiness. And Flying Shadow was saddest of them all.
She would gladly have given up everything for her lover.
What were home and friends to her who loved with all the
devotion of a heart untrammeled by forms, fresh from the
hand of nature? She listened to his flute in the still evening,
as if her spirit would forsake her when she heard it no
more. She would sit with him on the bluff which hung
over the Mississippi, and envy the very waters which would
remain near him, when she was far away. But her lover
would have died to have saved her from sorrow, yet he
knew she could never be his wife. Even were he to marry
her, her life would ever be in danger. A Chippeway could
not long find a home among the Dahcotahs.
The Track-maker bitterly regretted that they had ever
met, when he saw her grief at the prospect of parting.
“Let us go,” he said, “to the Falls, where I will tell you
the story you asked me.”
The Track-maker entered the canoe first, and the girl
followed; and so pleasant was the task of paddling her lover
over the quiet waters, that it seemed but a moment before
they were in sight of the torrent.
“It was there,” said the Sioux, “that Wenona and her
child found their graves. Her husband, accompanied by
some other Dahcotahs, had gone some distance above the
falls to hunt. While there, he fell in love with a young girl
whom he thought more beautiful than his wife. Wenona
knew that she must no longer hope to be loved as she had
been.
“The Dahcotahs killed much game, and then broke up
their camp and started for their homes. When they reached
the falls, the women got ready to carry their canoes and
baggage round.
“But Wenona was going on a longer journey. She would
not live when her husband loved her no more, and, putting
her son in her canoe, she soon reached the island that divides
the falls.
“Then she put on all her ornaments, as if she were a
bride; she dressed her boy too, as a Dahcotah warrior; she
turned to look once more at her husband, who was helping
back.
“Soon her husband called to her; she did not answer him,
but placed her child high up in the canoe, so that his father
could see him, and getting in herself she paddled towards
the rapids.
“Her husband saw that Unk-tahe would destroy her, and
he called to her to come ashore. But he might have called
to the roaring waters as well, and they would have heeded
him as soon as she.
“Still he ran along the shore with his arms uplifted, entreating
her to come ashore.
“Wenona continued her course towards the rapids—her
voice was heard above the waters as she sang her death
song. Soon the mother and child were seen no more—the
waters covered them.
“But her spirit wanders near this place. An elk and fawn
are often seen, and we know they are Wenona and her
child.”
“Do you love me as Wenona loved?” continued the
Sioux, as he met the looks of the young girl bent upon
him.
“I will not live when I see you no more,” she replied.
“As the flowers die when the winter's cold falls upon them,
so will my spirit depart when I no longer listen to your
voice. But when I go to the land of spirits I shall be happy.
My spirit will return to earth; but it will be always near
you.”
Little didst thou dream that the fate of Wenona would
be less sad than thine. She found the death she sought, in
the waters whose bosom opened to receive her. But thou
very presence of him, for whose love thou wouldst venture
all. Thy spirit will flee trembling from the shrieks of
the dying mother, the suffering child. Death will come to
thee as a terror, not as a refuge.
2. CHAPTER II.
When the Chippeways broke up their camp near Fort
Snelling, they divided into two parties, one party returning
home by the Mississippi, the other by way of the St.
Croix.
They parted on the most friendly terms with the Sioux,
giving presents, and receiving them in return.
Some pillagers, who acknowledge no control, had accompanied
the Chippeways. These pillagers are in fact high-waymen
or privateers—having no laws, and acting from
the impulses of their own fierce hearts.
After the Chippeways had left, the pillagers concealed
themselves in a path near Lake Calhoun. This lake is
about seven miles from Fort Snelling.
Before they had been concealed one hour, two Dahcotahs
passed, father and son. The pillagers fired, and
the father was killed instantly; but the son escaped, and
made his way home in safety. The boy entered the village
calling for his mother, to tell her the sad news; her
cries of grief gave the alarm, and soon the death of the
Sioux was known throughout the village. The news flew
runners were seen in every direction, and in twenty-four
hours there were three hundred warriors on foot in pursuit
of the Chippeways.
Every preparation was made for the death-strife. Not
a Sioux warrior but vowed he would with his own arm
avenge the death of his friend. The very tears of the wife
were dried when the hope of vengeance cheered her heart.
The Track-maker was famous as a warrior. Already
did the aged Dahcotahs listen to his words; for he was both
wise and brave. He was among the foremost to lead the
Dahcotahs against the Chippeways; and though he longed
to raise his tomahawk against his foes, his spirit sunk
within him when he remembered the girl he loved. What
will be her fate! Oh! that he had never seen her. But
it was no time to think of her. Duty called upon him to
avenge the death of his friend.
3. CHAPTER III.
Woe to the unsuspecting Chippeways! ignorant of the
murder that had been committed, they were leisurely turning
their steps homeward, while the pillagers made their
escape with the scalp of the Dahcotah.
The Sioux travelled one day and night before they came
up with the Chippeways. Nothing could quench their
thirst but blood. And the women and children must suffer
first. The savage suffers a twofold death; before his own
their mother all unconscious by their side.
The Chippeways continued their journey, fearing nothing.
They had camped between the falls of St. Anthony
and Rum river; they were refreshed, and the men proceeded
first, leaving their women and children to follow.
They were all looking forward with pleasure to seeing
their homes again. The women went leisurely along;
the infant slept quietly—what should it fear close to its
mother's heart! The young children laughed as they hid
themselves behind the forest trees, and then emerged suddenly
to frighten the others. The Chippeway maidens
rejoiced when they remembered that their rivals, the Dahcotah
girls, would no longer seduce their lovers from their
allegiance.
Flying Shadow wept, there was nothing to make her happy,
she would see the Track-maker no more, and she looked
forward to death as the end of her cares. She concealed
in her bosom the trinkets he had given her; every feature
of his face was written on her heart—that heart that beat
only for him, that so soon would cease to beat at all!
But there was a fearful cry, that banished even him from
her thoughts. The war-whoop burst suddenly upon the
defenceless women.
Hundreds of Dahcotah warriors rose up to blind the
eyes of the terror-stricken mothers. Their children are
scalped before their eyes; their infants are dashed against
the rocks, which are not more insensible to their cries than
their murderers.
It is a battle of strength against weakness. Stern war
in the death of her children.[1]
The maidens clasp their small hands—a vain appeal to
the merciless wretches, who see neither beauty nor grace,
when rage and revenge are in their hearts. It is blood they
thirst for, and the young and innocent fall like grass before
the mower.
Flying Shadow sees her lover! he is advancing towards
her! What does his countenance say? There is sadness
in his face, and she hopes—aye, more than hopes—she
knows he will save her. With all a woman's trust she
throws herself in his arms. “Save me! save me!” she
cries; “do not let them slay me before your eyes; make
me your prisoner![2]
you said that you loved me, spare
my life!”
Who shall tell his agony? For a moment he thought he
would make her his prisoner. Another moment's reflection
convinced him that that would be of no avail. He knew
that she must die, but he could not take her life.
Her eyes were trustingly turned upon him; her soft
hand grasped his arm. But the Sioux warriors were
pressing upon them, he gave her one more look, he touched
her with his spear,[3]
and he was gone.
And Flying Shadow was dead. She felt not the blow that
in the hour of danger, and what could she feel after that?
The scalp was torn from her head by one of those who
had most admired her beauty; and her body was trampled
upon by the very warriors who had so envied her lover.
The shrieks of the dying women reached the ears of their
husbands and brothers. Quickly did they retrace their
steps, and when they reached the spot, they bravely stood
their ground; but the Dahcotahs were too powerful for
them,—terrible was the struggle!
The Dahcotahs continued the slaughter, and the Chippeways
were obliged at last to give way. One of the
Chippeways seized his frightened child and placed him
upon his back. His wife lay dead at his feet; with his
child clinging to him, he fought his way through.
Two of the Dahcotahs followed him, for he was flying
fast; and they feared he would soon be out of their power.
They thought, as they nearly came up to him, that he would
loose his hold on his child; but the father's heart was strong
within him. He flies, and the Sioux are close upon his
heels! He fires and kills one of them. The other Sioux
follows: he has nothing to encumber him—he must be victor
in such an unequal contest. But the love that was stronger
than death nerved the father's arm. He kept firing, and
the Sioux retreated. The Chippeway and his young son
reached their home in safety, there to mourn the loss of
others whom they loved.
The sun set upon a bloody field; the young and old lay
piled together; the hearts that had welcomed the breaking
of the day were all unconscious of its close.
The Sioux were avenged; and the scalps that they
them from the massacre at Saint Croix) bore witness to
their triumph.
The other party of Sioux followed the Chippeways who
had gone by way of the St. Croix. While the Chippeways
slept, the war-cry of the Sioux aroused them.
And though they fought bravely, they suffered as did their
friends, and the darkness of night added terror to the scene.
The Dahcotahs returned with the scalps to their villages,
and as they entered triumphantly, they were greeted with
shouts of applause. The scalps were divided among the
villages, and joyful preparations were made to celebrate the
scalp-dance.
The scalps were stretched upon hoops, and covered with
vermilion, ornamented with feathers, ribbons and trinkets.
On the women's scalps were hung a comb, or a pair of
scissors, and for months did the Dahcotah women dance
around them. The men wore mourning for their enemies,
as is the custom among the Dahcotahs.
When the dancing was done, the scalps were buried with
the deceased relatives of the Sioux who took them.
And this is Indian, but what is Christian warfare? The
wife of the hero lives to realize her wretchedness; the honors
paid by his countrymen are a poor recompense for the loss
of his love and protection. The life of the child too, is safe,
but who will lead him in the paths of virtue, when his
mother has gone down to the grave.
Let us not hear of civilized warfare! It is all the work
of the spirits of evil. God did not make man to slay his
brother, and the savage alone can present an excuse. The
Dahcotah dreams not that it is wrong to resent an injury
Vengeance is mine!
The Dahcotahs believe, or many of them believe, that each body has four
souls. One wanders about the earth and requires food; a second watches
over the body; the third hovers round its native village, while the fourth goes
to the land of spirits.
When the Sioux are tired of killing, they sometimes take their victims
prisoners, and, generally speaking, treat them with great
kindness.
When a Dahcotah touches an enemy with his spear, he is privileged to
wear a feather of honor, as if he had taken a scalp.
4. CHAPTER IV.
The Track-maker had added to his fame. He had taken
many scalps, and the Dahcotah maidens welcomed him as
a hero—as one who would no longer refuse to acknowledge
the power of their charms. They asked him eagerly of the
fight—whom he had killed first—but they derived but little
satisfaction from his replies. They found he resisted their
advances, and they left him to his gloomy thoughts.
Every scene he looked upon added to his grief. Memory
clung to him, recalling every word and look of Flying
Shadow. But that last look, could he ever forget it?
He tried to console himself with the thoughts of his
triumph. Alas! her smile was sweeter than the recollection
of revenge. He had waded in the blood of his enemies;
he had trampled upon the hearts of the men he
hated; but he had broken the heart of the only woman he
had ever loved.
In the silence of the night her death-cry sounded in his
ear; and he would start as if to flee from the sound. In
his dreams he saw again that trustful face, that look of
appeal—and then the face of stone, when she saw that she
had appealed in vain.
He followed the chase, but there he could not forget the
battle scene. “Save me! save me!” forever whispered
her calling him, and he would stay his steps as if he hoped
to meet her smile.
The medicine men offered to cure his disease; but he
knew that it was beyond their art, and he cared not how
soon death came, nor in what form.
He met the fate he sought. A war party was formed
among the Dahcotahs to seek more scalps, more revenge.
But the Track-maker was weary of glory.
He went with the party, and never returned. Like her,
he died in battle; but the death that she sought to avert,
was a welcome messenger to him. He felt that in the
grave all would be forgotten.
| Dahcotah, or, Life and legends of the Sioux around Fort Snelling | |