Recent Writings By American Indians | ||
OF late years we who call ourselves Americans, but, after all, are only foreigners "changed by the climate," have had opportunities to read a small amount of purely American literature in the writings of some of the educated American Indians. Three authors in particular—Dr. Eastman, Mr. LaFlesche, and the Indian girl Zitkala-Sa—have notably enriched our records of the characters and customs of their people. It is interesting to observe that each of them has emphasized the finer aspects of the old order—which, for them, has changed forever—with a pride that cannot fail to be recognized by the casual reader, even where it is accompanied by the most courteous acknowledgment of the merits and advantages of civilization.
Dr. Eastman's little book is a collection of papers originally written for the St. Nicholas under the title, "Recollections of the Wild Life." In a simple, narrative style he tells the story of a Sioux boy's life among his kindred before he has come into contact with any of the influences of civilization. The training of the boy begins, he says—or, to make a necessary discrimination, it did begin, according to the customs of forty years ago—with lullabies of war, of the chase, and of the "Great Mystery," and very early was added the task of preserving and transmitting ancestral legends. "Almost every evening a myth or a legend of some deed done in the past was narrated by one of the parents or grandparents, and to it the boy listened with parted mouth and shining eyes. On the following evening he was usually required to repeat it. If he was not an apt scholar he struggled long with his task; but, as a rule, the Indian boy is a good listener and has a good memory, so that the stories were tolerably well mastered. The household became his audience, by whom he was alternately criticised and applauded." The habit of observation was as carefully cultivated as the faculty of memory. Whenever the little fellow left the "tepee," or tent, for his day of wandering in the forest, he was told to "watch everything closely, and observe its characteristics," and, upon his return at night, he was subjected to a catechising that lasted an hour or so. He was asked on which side of the trees he had found the lighter bark, on which side were the branches most regular, where he found the fish-eating birds, and how he could tell whether or not fish were in the lake, and a hundred other questions by which his care in studying nature might be tested. "Follow the example of the wolf," his wise teacher would say. "Even when he is surprised and runs for his life he will pause to take one more look at you before he enters his final retreat. So you must take a second look at everything that you may see." Nor were the moral qualities neglected. To acquire courage the boy went after water through the woods in the dark, to bring back his pail full, empty it, and start again. Sometimes he would be wakened in the morning and challenged to fast all day, as a warrior at any time must be prepared to do. Sometimes he was awakened by war-whoops, and expected to leap up with perfect presence of mind, ready to grasp his weapon. Always he was expected to control his temper. He was taught generosity to the poor and respect for age. The code of etiquette must be perfectly observed, and it contained many a precept worthy of the white man's acceptance. "Much has been said," says Dr. Eastman, "about Indian children's 'instincts.' To be sure, we inherited some of the characteristics of our ancestors, but
Concerning the white people, with whom he was later to hold
such close relations, Dr. Eastman as a boy heard most unflattering
reports. At the time of the Sioux massacre in Minnesota he was
about four years old, and was among those who took flight into
British Columbia. A couple of years later his father was betrayed
by a half-breed to the United States authorities, and was separated
from his son for ten years. The boy believed him to have been
killed by the whites, and was taught to count upon avenging his
death as soon as he was old enough to go on the war-path. It
turned out that the father was only imprisoned, together with his
two elder sons, for four years, and then pardoned by President
Lincoln. While in prison he was taught by missionaries, and, upon
coming out, was convinced that life on a government reservation
meant only physical and moral degradation, and he determined to try
the white man's way of gaining a livelihood. With a number of
others he took land, under the United States Homestead Law, on the
Big Sioux River, and then, at the risk of his life, set out to seek
his son. He found him, and brought him back to live among the
white people and to exchange his traditions for theirs. A fair
impression of the clear idea of the white men which the boy brought
with him is
Charles Alexander Eastman
[Description: Copyright, 1894, by the Century Co.]
"Certainly they are a heartless nation," said the uncle. "They have made some of their people servants—yes, slaves!* We never believed in slaves, but it seems that these Washichu do. It is our belief that they painted their servants black a long time ago to tell them from the rest, and now the slaves have children born to them of the same color!
"The greatest object of their lives seems to be to acquire possessions—to be rich. They are desirous to possess the whole world. For thirty years they were trying to entice us to sell our land to them. Finally the 'Outbreak' gave them all, and we have been driven away from our beautiful country. They are a wonderful people. They have divided the day into hours, like the moons of the year. In fact, they measure everything. Not one of them would let even a turnip go from his field unless he received equal value for it. I understand that their great men make a feast and invite many, but when the feast is over the guests are required to
Dr. Eastman, it will be remembered by many, married Elaine Goodale, the Berkshire poetess, and has contributed to a number of periodicals. He is a graduate of Dartmouth College and of the Boston University School of Medicine, and now Government physician at Crow Creek, S. D.
An interesting pendant to his "Recollections of the Wild Life"
is a little book, published a couple of years ago by Francis La
Flesche, son of the former head chief of the Omaha tribe, giving
his experience at the Presbyterian Mission School, where he was
educated. In the main it is an account of this school-life, but in
its references to the author's pre-civilized existence it tallies
with the impression given by Dr. Eastman. The Omaha tribe, like
the Sioux, apparently take the greatest interest and pride in the
up-bringing of their boys. "Among my earliest recollections," says
Mr. La Flesche, "are the instructions wherein we were taught
respect and courtesy toward our elders: to say 'thank you' when
receiving a gift or returning a borrowed article; to use the proper
and conventional term of relationship when speaking to another, and
never to address anyone by his personal name. We were also
forbidden to pass in front of persons sitting in the tent without
first asking permission, and we were strictly enjoined never to
stare at visitors, particularly at strangers. To us there seemed
no end to the things we were obliged to do and to the things we
were to refrain from doing." The Omaha child was also strictly
trained in the grammatical use of his native tongue. No slip was
allowed to pass uncorrected, and children soon spoke as accurately
as their elders. There was nothing corresponding to slang, to
localisms, or to profanity, and the boys and girls who have been
set to learn our language have found it difficult to realize
Francis La Flesche
In the narrative, the character of the boys rather than the character of the school is dwelt upon; but the life seems not to have been an unhappy one, and the manly little fellows undergoing the very radical transformation are not indifferent to their advantage—certainly not rebellious or bitterly opposed to their surroundings. When, however, we read the biographical papers of Zitkala-Sa, contributed to the Atlantic a year or so ago, a very different note arrests our attention,
One cannot, however, pass over her contribution to our literature without a comment
Recent Writings By American Indians | ||