CHAPTER X.

MOURNING FOR THE SLAIN—THREATENED WITH DEATH AT THE FIERY

STAKE—SAVED BY A SPEECH FROM OTTAWA—STARVING CONDITION OF THE

INDIANS.

As soon as we were safe, and General Sully pursued us no longer, the

warriors returned home, and a scene of terrible mourning over the

killed ensued among the women. Their cries are terribly wild and

distressing, on such occasions; and the near relations of the deceased

indulge in frantic expressions of grief that can not be described.

Sometimes the practice of cutting the flesh is carried to a horrible

and barbarous extent. They inflict gashes on their bodies and limbs an

inch in length. Some cut off their hair, blacken their faces, and march

through the village in procession, torturing their bodies to add vigor

to their lamentations.

Hunger followed on the track of grief; all their food was gone, and

there was no game in that portion of the country.

In our flight they scattered every thing, and the country through which

we passed for the following two weeks did not yield enough to arrest

starvation. The Indians were terribly enraged, and threatened me with

death almost hourly, and in every form.

I had so hoped for liberty when my friends were near; but alas! all my

fond hopes were blasted. The Indians told me that the army was going in

another direction.

They seemed to have sustained a greater loss than I had been made aware

of, which made them feel very revengeful toward me.

The next morning I could see that something unusual was about to

happen. Notwithstanding the early hour, the sun scarcely appearing

above the horizon, the principal chiefs and warriors were assembled in

council, where, judging from the grave and reflective expression of

their countenances, they were about to discuss some serious question.

I had reason for apprehension, from their unfriendly manner toward me,

and feared for the penalty I might soon have to pay.

Soon they sent an Indian to me, who asked me if I was ready to die—to

be burned at the stake. I told him whenever Wakon-Tonka (the Great

Spirit) was ready, he would call for me, and then I would be ready and

willing to go. He said that he had been sent from the council to warn

me, that it had become necessary to put me to death, on account of my

white brothers killing so many of their young men recently. He repeated

that they were not cruel for the pleasure of being so; necessity

is their first law, and he and the wise chiefs, faithful to their

hatred for the white race, were in haste to satisfy their thirst for

vengeance; and, further, that the interest of their nation required it.

As soon as the chiefs were assembled around the council fire, the

pipe-carrier entered the circle, holding in his hand the pipe ready

lighted. Bowing to the four cardinal points, he uttered a short prayer,

or invocation, and then presented the pipe to the old chief, Ottawa,

but retained the bowl in his hand. When all the chiefs and men had

smoked, one after the other, the pipe-bearer emptied the ashes into the

fire, saying, “Chiefs of the great Dakota nation, Wakon-Tonka give you

wisdom, so that whatever be your determination, it may be conformable

to justice.” Then, after bowing respectfully, he retired.

A moment of silence followed, in which every one seemed to be

meditating seriously upon the words that had just been spoken. At

length one of the most aged of the chiefs, whose body was furrowed with

the scars of innumerable wounds, and who enjoyed among his people a

reputation for great wisdom, arose.

Said he, “The pale faces, our eternal persecutors, pursue and harass

us without intermission, forcing us to abandon to them, one by one,

our best hunting grounds, and we are compelled to seek a refuge in the

depths of these Bad Lands, like timid deer. Many of them even dare to

come into prairies which belong to us, to trap beaver, and hunt elk

and buffalo, which are our property. These faithless creatures, the

outcasts of their own people, rob and kill us when they can. Is it just

that we should suffer these wrongs without complaining? Shall we allow

ourselves to be slaughtered like timid Assinneboines, without seeking

to avenge ourselves? Does not the law of the Dakotas say, Justice to

our own nation, and death to all pale faces? Let my brothers say if

that is just,” pointing to the stake that was being prepared for me.

“Vengeance is allowable,” sententiously remarked Mahpeah (The Sky).

Another old chief, Ottawa, arose and said, “It is the undoubted right

of the weak and oppressed; and yet it ought to be proportioned to the

injury received. Then why should we put this young, innocent woman to

death? Has she not always been kind to us, smiled upon us, and sang for

us? Do not all our children love her as a tender sister? Why, then,

should we put her to so cruel a death for the crimes of others, if they

are of her nation? Why should we punish the innocent for the guilty?”

I looked to Heaven for mercy and protection, offering up those earnest

prayers that are never offered in vain; and oh! how thankful I was when

I knew their decision was to spare my life. Though terrible were my

surroundings, life always became sweet to me, when I felt that I was

about to part with it.

A terrible time ensued, and many dogs, and horses, even, died of

starvation. Their bodies were eaten immediately; and the slow but

constant march was daily kept up, in hope of game and better facilities

for fish and fruit.

Many days in succession I tasted no food, save what I could gather on

my way; a few rose leaves and blossoms was all I could find, except

the grass I would gather and chew, for nourishment. Fear, fatigue, and

long-continued abstinence were wearing heavily on my already shattered

frame. Women and children were crying for food; it was a painful sight

to witness their sufferings, with no means of alleviating them, and no

hope of relief save by traveling and hunting. We had no shelter save

the canopy of heaven, and no alternative but to travel on, and at night

lie down on the cold, damp ground, for a resting place.

If I could but present to my readers a truthful picture of that Indian

home at that time, with all its sorrowful accompaniments! They are

certainly engraved upon faithful memory, to last forever; but no touch

of pen could give any semblance of the realities to another.

What exhibitions of their pride and passion I have seen; what ideas of

their intelligence and humanity I have been compelled to form; what

manifestations of their power and ability to govern had been thrust

upon me. The treatment received was not such as to enhance in any wise

a woman’s admiration for the so-called noble red man, but rather to

make one pray to be delivered from their power.

Compelled to travel many days in succession, and to experience the

gnawings of hunger without mitigation, every day had its share of toil

and fear. Yet while my temporal wants were thus poorly supplied, I was

not wholly denied spiritual food. It was a blessed consolation that no

earthly foe could interrupt my communion with the heavenly world. In my

midnight, wakeful hours, I was visited with many bright visions.

He walks with thee, that angel kind,

And gently whispers, be resigned;

Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell,

The dear Lord ordereth all things well.

Narrative of My Captivity Among the Sioux Indians · 第 10 / 28 章