Soon after witnessing the curious scenes described in the former
Letters, I changed my position to the place from whence I am now
writing—to the village of the Minatarees, which is also located on
the west bank of the Missouri river, and only eight miles above the
Mandans. On my way down the river in my canoe, I passed this village
without attending to their earnest and clamorous invitations for me to
come ashore, and it will thus be seen that I am retrograding a little,
to see all that is to be seen in this singular country.
I have been residing here some weeks, and am able already to say of
these people as follows:—
The Minatarees (people of the willows) are a small tribe of about 1500
souls, residing in three villages of earth-covered lodges, on the
banks of Knife river; a small stream, so called, meandering through
a beautiful and extensive prairie, and uniting its waters with the
Missouri.
This small community is undoubtedly a part of the tribe of Crows, of
whom I have already spoken, living at the base of the Rocky Mountains,
who have at some remote period, either in their war or hunting
excursions, been run off by their enemy, and their retreat having been
prevented, have thrown themselves upon the hospitality of the Mandans,
to whom they have looked for protection, and under whose wing they are
now living in a sort of confederacy, ready to intermarry and also to
join, as they often have done, in the common defence of their country.
In language and personal appearance, as well as in many of their
customs, they are types of the Crows; yet having adopted and so long
lived under its influence, the system of the Mandans, they are much
like them in many respects, and continually assimilating to the modes
of their patrons and protectors. Amongst their vague and various
traditions they have evidently some disjointed authority for the manner
in which they came here; but no account of the time. They say, that
they came poor—without wigwams or horses—were nearly all women, as
their warriors had been killed off in their flight; that the Mandans
would not take them into their village, nor let them come nearer than
where they are now living, and there assisted them to build their
villages. From these circumstances their wigwams have been constructed
exactly in the same manner as those of the Mandans, which I have
already described, and entirely distinct from any custom to be seen in
the Crow tribe.
Notwithstanding the long familiarity in which they have lived with the
Mandans, and the complete adoption of most of their customs, yet it is
almost an unaccountable fact, that there is scarcely a man in the tribe
who can speak half a dozen words of the Mandan language; although on
the other hand, the Mandans are most of them able to converse in the
Minataree tongue; leaving us to conclude, either that the Minatarees
are a very inert and stupid people, or that the Mandan language (which
is most probably the case) being different from any other language in
the country, is an exceedingly difficult one to learn.
The principal village of the Minatarees which is built upon the bank
of the Knife river (+plate+ 70), contains forty or fifty earth-covered
wigwams, from forty to fifty feet in diameter, and being elevated,
overlooks the other two which are on lower ground and almost lost
amidst their numerous corn fields and other profuse vegetation which
cover the earth with their luxuriant growth.
The scenery along the banks of this little river, from village to
village, is quite peculiar and curious; rendered extremely so by the
continual wild and garrulous groups of men, women, and children, who
are wending their way along its winding shores, or dashing and plunging
through its blue waves, enjoying the luxury of swimming, of which both
sexes seem to be passionately fond. Others are paddling about in their
tub-like canoes, made of the skins of buffaloes; and every now and
then, are to be seen their sudatories, or vapour-baths (+plate+ 71),
where steam is raised by throwing water on to heated stones; and the
patient jumps from his sweating-house and leaps into the river in the
highest state of perspiration, as I have more fully described whilst
speaking of the bathing of the Mandans.
The chief sachem of this tribe is a very ancient and patriarchal
looking man, by the name of Eeh-tohk-pah-shee-pee-shah (the black
moccasin), and counts, undoubtedly, more than an hundred _snows_. I
have been for some days an inmate of his hospitable lodge, where he
sits tottering with age, and silently reigns sole monarch of his little
community around him, who are continually dropping in to cheer his
sinking energies, and render him their homage. His voice and his sight
are nearly gone; but the gestures of his hands are yet energetic and
youthful, and freely speak the language of his kind heart.
I have been treated in the kindest manner by this old chief; and have
painted his portrait (+plate+ 72) as he was seated on the floor of his
wigwam, smoking his pipe, whilst he was recounting over to me some of
the extraordinary feats of his life, with a beautiful Crow robe wrapped
around him, and his hair wound up in a conical form upon his head, and
fastened with a small wooden pin, to keep it in its place.
This man has many distinct recollections of Lewis and Clarke, who were
the first explorers of this country, and who crossed the Rocky
Mountains thirty years ago. It will be seen by reference to their very
interesting history of their tour, that they were treated with great
kindness by this man; and that they in consequence constituted him
chief of the tribe, with the consent of his people; and he has remained
their chief ever since. He enquired very earnestly for “Red Hair” and
“Long Knife” (as he had ever since termed Lewis and Clarke), from the
fact, that one had red hair (an unexampled thing in his country), and
the other wore a broad sword which gained for him the appellation of
“Long Knife.”
[Illustration: 72]
[Illustration: 73]
[Illustration: 74]
I have told him that “Long Knife” has been many years dead; and that
“Red Hair” is yet living in St. Louis, and no doubt, would be glad to
hear of him; at which he seemed much pleased, and has signified to me
that he will make me bearer of some peculiar dispatches to him.[5]
The name by which these people are generally called (Grosventres) is
one given them by the French Traders, and has probably been applied to
them with some degree of propriety or fitness, as contradistinguished
from the Mandans, amongst whom these Traders were living; and who
are a small race of Indians, being generally at or below the average
stature of man; whilst the Minatarees are generally tall and heavily
built. There is no tribe in the western wilds, perhaps, who are better
entitled to the style of warlike, than the Minatarees; for they, unlike
the Mandans, are continually carrying war into their enemies’ country;
oftentimes drawing the poor Mandans into unnecessary broils, and
suffering so much themselves in their desperate war-excursions, that I
find the proportion of women to the number of men as two or three to
one, through the tribe.
The son of Black Moccasin, whose name is Ee-a-chin-che-a (the red
thunder), and who is reputed one of the most desperate warriors of his
tribe, I have also painted at full length, in his war-dress (+plate+
73), with his bow in his hand, his quiver slung, and his shield upon
his arm. In this plight, _sans_ head-dress, _sans_ robe, and _sans_
everything that might be an useless incumbrance—with the body chiefly
naked, and profusely bedaubed with red and black paint, so as to form
an almost perfect disguise, the Indian warriors invariably sally forth
to war; save the chief, who always plumes himself, and leads on his
little band, tendering himself to his enemies a conspicuous mark, with
all his ornaments and trophies upon him; that his enemies, if they get
him, may get a prize worth the fighting for.
Besides chiefs and warriors to be admired in this little tribe, there
are many beautiful and voluptuous looking women, who are continually
crowding in throngs, and gazing upon a stranger; and possibly shedding
more bewitching smiles from a sort of necessity, growing out of the
great disparity in numbers between them and the rougher sex, to which I
have before alluded.
From the very numerous groups of these that have from day to day
constantly pressed upon me, overlooking the operations of my brush;
I have been unable to get more than one who would consent to have
her portrait painted, owing to some fear or dread of harm that might
eventually ensue in consequence; or from a natural coyness or timidity,
which is surpassing all description amongst these wild tribes, when in
presence of strangers.
The one whom I have painted (+plate+ 74) is a descendant from the old
chief; and though not the most beautiful, is yet a fair sample of
them, and dressed in a beautiful costume of the mountain-sheep skin,
handsomely garnished with porcupine quills and beads. This girl was
almost _compelled_ to stand for her picture by her relatives who urged
her on, whilst she modestly declined, offering as her excuse that “she
was not pretty enough, and that her picture would be laughed at.”
This was either ignorance or excessive art on her part; for she was
certainly more than comely, and the beauty of her name, Seet-se-be-a
(the midday sun) is quite enough to make up for a deficiency, if there
were any, in the beauty of her face.
I mentioned that I found these people raising abundance of corn or
maize; and I have happened to visit them in the season of their
festivities, which annually take place when the ears of corn are of the
proper size for eating. The green corn is considered a great luxury by
all those tribes who cultivate it; and is ready for eating as soon as
the ear is of full size, and the kernels are expanded to their full
growth, but are yet soft and pulpy. In this green state of the corn,
it is boiled and dealt out in great profusion to the whole tribe, who
feast and surfeit upon it whilst it lasts; rendering thanks to the
_Great Spirit_ for the return of this joyful season, which they do
by making sacrifices, by dancing, and singing songs or thanksgiving.
This joyful occasion is one valued alike, and conducted in a similar
manner, by most of the tribes who raise the corn, however remote they
may be from each other. It lasts but for a week or ten days; being
limited to the longest term that the corn remains in this tender and
palatable state; during which time all hunting, and all war-excursions,
and all other avocations, are positively dispensed with; and all join
in the most excessive indulgence of gluttony and conviviality that can
possibly be conceived. The fields of corn are generally pretty well
stripped during this excess; and the poor improvident Indian thanks the
Great Spirit for the indulgence he has had, and is satisfied to ripen
merely the few ears that are necessary for his next year’s planting,
without reproaching himself for his wanton lavishness, which has laid
waste his fine fields, and robbed him of the golden harvest, which
might have gladdened his heart, with those of his wife and little
children, through the cold and dreariness of winter.
The most remarkable feature of these joyous occasion is the _green
corn-dance_, which is always given as preparatory to the feast, and
by most of the tribes in the following manner:—
[Illustration: 75]
At the usual season, and the time when from outward appearance of the
stalks and ears of the corn, it is supposed to be nearly ready for
use, several of the old women who are the owners of fields or patches
of corn (for such are the proprietors and cultivators of all crops in
Indian countries, the men never turning their hands to such degrading
occupations) are delegated by the medicine-men to look at the corn
fields every morning at sun-rise, and bring into the council-house,
where the kettle is ready, several ears of corn, the husks of which the
women are not allowed to break open or even to peep through. The women
then are from day to day discharged and the doctors left to decide,
until from repeated examinations they come to the decision that it
will do; when they dispatch _runners_ or _criers_, announcing to every
part of the village or tribe that the Great Spirit has been kind to
them, and they must all meet on the next day to return thanks for his
goodness. That all must empty their stomachs, and prepare for the feast
that is approaching.
On the day appointed by the doctors, the villagers are all assembled,
and in the midst of the group a kettle is hung over a fire and filled
with the green corn, which is well boiled, to be given to the Great
Spirit, as a sacrifice necessary to be made before any one can indulge
the cravings of his appetite. Whilst this first kettleful is boiling,
four medicine-men, with a stalk of the corn in one hand and a rattle
(she-she-quoi) in the other, with their bodies painted with white clay,
dance around the kettle, chanting a song of thanksgiving to the Great
Spirit to whom the offering is to be made (+plate+ 75). At the same
time a number of warriors are dancing around in a more extended circle,
with stalks of the corn in their hands, and joining also in the song of
thanksgiving, whilst the villagers are all assembled and looking on.
During this scene there is an arrangement of wooden bowls laid upon the
ground, in which the feast is to be dealt out, each one having in it a
spoon made of the buffalo or mountain-sheep’s horn.
In this wise the dance continues until the doctors decide that the corn
is sufficiently boiled; it then stops for a few moments, and again
assumes a different form and a different song, whilst the doctors are
placing the ears on a little scaffold of sticks, which they erect
immediately over the fire where it is entirely consumed, as they join
again in the dance around it.
The fire is then removed, and with it the ashes, which together are
buried in the ground, and _new fire_ is originated on the same spot
where the old one was, by friction, which is done by a desperate and
painful exertion by three men seated on the ground, facing each other
and violently drilling the end of a stick into a hard block of wood by
rolling it between the hands, each one catching it in turn from the
others without allowing the motion to stop until smoke, and at last a
spark of fire is seen and caught in a piece of spunk, when there is
great rejoicing in the crowd. With this a fire is kindled, and the
kettleful of corn again boiled for the feast, at which the chiefs,
doctors, and warriors are seated; and after this an unlimited licence
is given to the whole tribe, who surfeit upon it and indulge in all
their favourite amusements and excesses, until the fields of corn are
exhausted, or its ears have become too hard for their comfortable
mastication.
Such are the general features of the green corn festivity and dance
amongst most of the tribes; and amongst some there are many additional
forms and ceremonies gone through, preparatory to the indulgence in the
feast.
Some of the southern tribes concoct a most bitter and nauseating
draught, which they call _asceola_ (the black drink), which they drink
to excess for several days previous to the feast; ejecting everything
from their stomachs and intestines, enabling them after this excessive
and painful purgation, to commence with the green corn upon an empty
and keen stomach.
[Illustration: 76]
[5] About a year after writing the above, and whilst I was in St.
Louis, I had the pleasure of presenting the compliments of this old
veteran to General Clarke; and also of shewing to him the portrait,
which he instantly recognized amongst hundreds of others; saying,
that “they had considered the Black Moccasin quite an old man when
they appointed him chief thirty-two years ago.”
LETTER—No. 24.