the lookers-on was his grandmother. She was very near relenting. Had
she not feared the wrath of the Great Mystery, she would have been
happy to call out to the boy: "Keep your dear dog, my child!"
As it was, Hakadah came out of the teepee with his face looking like an
eclipsed moon, leading his beautiful dog, who was even handsomer than
ever with the red touches on his specks of white.
It was now Uncheedah's turn to struggle with the storm and burden in
her soul. But the boy was emboldened by the people's admiration of his
bravery, and did not shed a tear. As soon as she was able to speak, the
loving grandmother said:
"No, my young brave, not so! You must not mourn for your first
offering. Wash your face and then we will go."
The boy obeyed, submitted Ohitika to Wacoota with a smile, and walked
off with his grandmother and Wahchewin.
The boy and his grandmother descended the bank, following a tortuous
foot-path until they reached the water's edge. Then they proceeded to
the mouth of an immense cave, some fifty feet above the river, under
the cliff. A little stream of limpid water trickled down from a spring
within the cave. The little watercourse served as a sort of natural
staircase for the visitors. A cool, pleasant atmosphere exhaled from
the mouth of the cavern. Really it was a shrine of nature, and it is
not strange that it was so regarded by the tribe.
A feeling of awe and reverence came to the boy. "It is the home of the
Great Mystery," he thought to himself; and the impressiveness of his
surroundings made him forget his sorrow.
Very soon Wahchewin came with some difficulty to the steps. She placed
the body of Ohitika upon the ground in a life-like position and again
left the two alone.
As soon as she disappeared from view, Uncheedah, with all solemnity and
reverence, unfastened the leather strings that held the four small
bundles of paints and one of tobacco, while the filled pipe was laid
beside the dead Ohitika.
She scattered paints and tobacco all about. Again they stood a few
moments silently; then she drew a deep breath and began her prayer to
the Great Mystery:
"O, Great Mystery, we hear thy voice in the rushing waters below us! We
hear thy whisper in the great oaks above! Our spirits are refreshed
with thy breath from within this cave. O, hear our prayer! Behold this
little boy and bless him! Make him a warrior and a hunter as great as
thou didst make his father and grandfather."
And with this prayer the little warrior had completed his first
offering.
VII
THE GRAVE OF THE DOG
The full moon was just clear of the high mountain ranges when the game
scout moved slowly homeward, well wrapped in his long buffalo robe,
which was securely belted to his strong loins; his quiver tightly tied
to his shoulders so as not to impede his progress.
As he emerged from the lowlands into the upper regions, he loomed up a
gigantic figure against the clear, moonlit horizon. His picturesque
foxskin cap with all its trimmings was incrusted with frost from the
breath of his nostrils, and his lagging footfall sounded crisply. The
distance he had that day covered was enough for any human endurance;
yet he was neither faint nor hungry; but his feet were frozen into the
psay, the snow-shoes, so that he could not run faster than an easy slip
and slide.
At last he reached the much-coveted point--the crown of the last
ascent; and when he smelled fire and the savory odor of the jerked
buffalo meat, it well-nigh caused him to waver! But he must not fail to
follow the custom of untold ages, and give the game scout's wolf call
before entering camp.
Accordingly he paused upon the highest point of the ridge and uttered a
cry to which the hungry cry of a real wolf would have seemed but a
coyote's yelp in comparison! Then it was that the rest of the buffalo
hunters knew that their game scout was returning with welcome news; for
the unsuccessful scout enters the camp silently.
In the meantime, the hunters at the temporary camp were aroused to a
high pitch of excitement. Some turned their buffalo robes and put them
on in such a way as to convert themselves into make-believe bison, and
began to tread the snow, while others were singing the buffalo song,
that their spirits might be charmed and allured within the circle of
the camp-fires. The scout, too, was singing his buffalo bull song in a
guttural, lowing chant as he neared the hunting camp. Within arrow-shot
he paused again, while the usual ceremonies were enacted for his
reception. This done, he was seated with the leaders in a chosen place.
"It was a long run," he said, "but there were no difficulties. I found
the first herd directly north of here. The second herd, a great one, is
northeast, near Shell Lake. The snow is deep. The buffalo can only
follow their leader in their retreat."
"Hi, hi, hi!" the hunters exclaimed solemnly in token of gratitude,
raising their hands heavenward and then pointing them toward the
ground.
"Ho, kola! one more round of the buffalo-pipe, then we shall retire, to
rise before daybreak for the hunt," advised one of the leaders.
Silently they partook in turn of the long-stemmed pipe, and one by one,
with a dignified "Ho!" departed to their teepees.
The scout betook himself to his little old buffalo teepee, which he
used for winter hunting expeditions. His faithful Shunka, who had been
all this time its only occupant, met him at the entrance as dogs alone
know how to welcome a lifelong friend. As his master entered he
stretched himself in his old-time way, from the tip of his tail to that
of his tongue, and finished by curling both ends upward.
"Ho, mita Shunka, eat this; for you must be hungry!" So saying, the
scout laid before his canine friend the last piece of his dried buffalo
meat. It was the sweetest meal ever eaten by a dog, judging by his long
smacking of his lips after he had swallowed it!
The hunting party was soon lost in heavy slumber. Not a sound could be
heard save the gnawing of the ponies upon the cottonwood bark, which
was provided for them instead of hay in the winter time.
When Wapashaw, the game scout, had rolled himself in his warm buffalo
robe and was sound asleep, his faithful companion hunter, the great
Esquimaux wolf dog, silently rose and again stretched himself, then
stood quiet for a moment as if meditating. It was clear that he knew
well what he had planned to do, but was considering how he should do it
without arousing any suspicion of his movements. This is a dog's art,
and the night tricks and marauding must always be the joy and secret of
his life!
Softly he emerged from the lodge and gave a sweeping glance around to
assure him that there were none to spy upon him. Suspiciously he
sniffed the air, as if to ascertain whether there could be any danger
to his sleeping master while he should be away.
Up the long ascent he trotted in a northerly direction, yet not
following his master's trail. He was large and formidable in strength,
combining the features of his wild brothers of the plains with those of
the dogs who keep company with the red men. His jet-black hair and
sharp ears and nose appeared to immense advantage against the spotless
and jewelled snow, until presently his own warm breath had coated him
with heavy frost.
After a time Shunka struck into his master's trail and followed it all
the way, only taking a short cut here and there when, by dog instinct,
he knew that a man must go around such a point to get to his
destination. He met many travellers during the night, but none had
dared to approach him, though some few followed at a distance, as if to
discover his purpose.
At last he reached Shell Lake, and there beheld a great gathering of
the herds! They stood in groups, like enormous rocks, no longer black,
but white with frost. Every one of them emitted a white steam, quickly
frozen into a fine snow in the air.
Shunka sat upon his haunches and gazed. "Wough, this is it!" he said to
himself. He had kept still when the game scout gave the wolf call,
though the camp was in an uproar, and from the adjacent hills the wild
hunters were equally joyous, because they understood the meaning of the
unwonted noise. Yet his curiosity was not fully satisfied, and he had
set out to discover the truth, and it may be to protect or serve his
master in case of danger.
At daybreak the great dog meekly entered his master's rude teepee, and
found him already preparing for the prospective hunt. He was filling
his inside moccasins full of buffalo hair to serve as stockings, over
which he put on his large buffalo moccasins with the hair inside, and
adjusted his warm leggins. He then adjusted his snow-shoes and filled
his quiver full of good arrows. The dog quietly lay down in a warm
place, making himself as small as possible, as if to escape
observation, and calmly watched his master.
Soon all the hunters were running in single file upon the trail of the
scout, each Indian closely followed by his trusty hunting dog. In less
than two hours they stood just back of the low ridge which rounded the
south side of Shell Lake. The narrow strip of land between its twin
divisions was literally filled with the bison. In the gulches beyond,
between the dark lines of timber, there were also scattered groups; but
the hunters at once saw their advantage over the herd upon the
peninsula.
"Hechetu, kola! This is well, friends!" exclaimed the first to speak.
"These can be forced to cross the slippery ice and the mire around the
springs. This will help us to get more meat. Our people are hungry, and
we must kill many in order to feed them!"
"Ugh, he is always right! Our dogs must help us here. The meat will be
theirs as well as ours," another added.
"Tosh, kola! The game scout's dog is the greatest Shunka of them all!
He has a mind near like that of a man. Let him lead the attack of his
fellows, while we crawl up on the opposite side and surround the
buffalo upon the slippery ice and in the deceitful mire," spoke up a
third. So it was agreed that the game scout and his Shunka should lead
the attack.
"Woo, woo, woo!" was the hoarse signal from the throat of the game
scout; but his voice was drowned by the howling and barking of the
savage dogs as they made their charge. In a moment all was confusion
among the buffalo. Some started this way, others that, and the great
mass swayed to and fro uncertainly. A few were ready to fight, but the
snow was too deep for a countercharge upon the dogs, save on the ice
just in front of them, where the wind had always full sweep. There all
was slippery and shining! In their excitement and confusion the bison
rushed upon this uncertain plain.
Their weight and the momentum of their rush carried them hopelessly far
out, where they were again confused as to which way to go, and many
were stuck in the mire which was concealed by the snow, except here and
there an opening above a spring from which there issued a steaming
vapor. The game scout and his valiant dog led on the force of canines
with deafening war-cries, and one could see black heads here and there
popping from behind the embankments. As the herd finally swept toward
the opposite shore, many dead were left behind. Pierced by the arrows
of the hunters, they lay like black mounds upon the glassy plain.
It was a great hunt! "Once more the camp will be fed," they thought,
"and this good fortune will help us to reach the spring alive!"
A chant of rejoicing rang out from the opposite shore, while the game
scout unsheathed his big knife and began the work which is ever the
sequel of the hunt--to dress the game; although the survivors of the
slaughter had scarcely disappeared behind the hills.
All were busily skinning and cutting up the meat into pieces convenient
for carrying, when suddenly a hunter called the attention of those near
him to an ominous change in the atmosphere.
"There are signs of a blizzard! We must hurry into the near woods
before it reaches us!" he shouted.
Some heard him; others did not. Those who saw or heard passed on the
signal and hurried toward the wood, where others had already arranged
rude shelters and gathered piles of dry wood for fuel.
Around the several camp-fires the hunters sat or stood, while slices of
savory meat were broiled and eaten with a relish by the half-starved
men.
But the storm had now fairly enveloped them in whirling whiteness.
"Woo, woo!" they called to those who had not yet reached camp. One
after another answered and emerged from the blinding pall of snow. At
last none were missing save the game scout and his Shunka!
The hunters passed the time in eating and telling stories until a late
hour, occasionally giving a united shout to guide the lost one should
he chance to pass near their camp.
"Fear not for our scout, friends!" finally exclaimed a leader among
them. "He is a brave and experienced man. He will find a safe
resting-place, and join us when the wind ceases to rage." So they all
wrapped themselves in their robes and lay down to sleep.
All that night and the following day it was impossible to give succor,
and the hunters felt much concern for the absent. Late in the second
night the great storm subsided.
"Ho, ho! Iyotanka! Rise up!" So the first hunter to awaken aroused all
the others.
As after every other storm, it was wonderfully still; so still that one
could hear distinctly the pounding feet of the jack-rabbits coming down
over the slopes to the willows for food. All dry vegetation was buried
beneath the deep snow, and everywhere they saw this white-robed
creature of the prairie coming down to the woods.
Now the air was full of the wolf and coyote game call, and they were
seen in great numbers upon the ice.
"See, see! the hungry wolves are dragging the carcasses away! Harken to
the war-cries of the scout's Shunka! Hurry, hurry!" they urged one
another in chorus.
Away they ran and out upon the lake; now upon the wind-swept ice, now
upon the crusted snow; running when they could, sliding when they must.
There was certainly a great concourse of the wolves, whirling in
frantic circles, but continually moving toward the farther end of the
lake. They could hear distinctly the hoarse bark of the scout's Shunka,
and occasionally the muffled war-whoop of a man, as if it came from
under the ice.
As they approached nearer the scene they could hear more distinctly the
voice of their friend, but still as it were from underground. When they
reached the spot to which the wolves had dragged two of the carcasses
of the buffalo, Shunka was seen to stand by one of them, but at that
moment he staggered and fell. The hunters took out their knives and
ripped up the frozen hide covering the abdominal cavity. It revealed a
warm nest of hay and buffalo hair in which the scout lay, wrapped in
his own robe!
He had placed his dog in one of the carcasses and himself in another
for protection from the storm; but the dog was wiser than the man, for
he kept his entrance open. The man lapped the hide over and it froze
solidly, shutting him securely in. When the hungry wolves came Shunka
promptly extricated himself and held them off as long as he could;
meanwhile, sliding and pulling, the wolves continued to drag over the
slippery ice the body of the buffalo in which his master had taken
refuge. The poor, faithful dog, with no care for his own safety, stood
by his imprisoned master until the hunters came up. But it was too
late, for he had received more than one mortal wound.
As soon as the scout got out, with a face more anxious for another than
for himself, he exclaimed:
"Where is Shunka, the bravest of his tribe?"
"Ho, kola, it is so, indeed; and here he lies," replied one sadly.
His master knelt by his side, gently stroking the face of the dog.
"Ah, my friend; you go where all spirits live! The Great Mystery has a
home for every living creature. May he permit our meeting there!"
At daybreak the scout carried him up to one of the pretty round hills
overlooking the lake, and built up around him walls of loose stone. Red
paints were scattered over the snow, in accordance with Indian custom,
and the farewell song was sung.
Since that day the place has been known to the Sioux as
Shunkahanakapi--the Grave of the Dog.
THE END
GLOSSARY OF INDIAN WORDS
Be-day-wah'-kan-ton, lake-dwellers.
Cha-tan'-na, fourth son.
chin'-to, certainly.
Che-ton'-skah, white hawk.
Chank-pay'-yu-hah, carries the club.
coo'-wah, come here!
ha-nah'-kah-pee, grave.
he-yu'-pee-yay, come all of you!
hay'-chay-tu, it is well.
Hah-kay'-dah, the last-born.
he-nah'-kah-gah, the owl.
Kah-po'-se-yah, Light Lodges (a band of Sioux).
Ko'-lah, friend.
Man-kah'-to, blue earth.
Mah-to', bear.
Mah-to'-sap-ah, black bear.
Mah-pee'-to-pah, four heavens.
Me-ne-yah'-tah, beside the water.
Me-chink'-shee, my son.
Nak-pah', ears (of an animal).
O-o'-pay-han'-skah, bluebird.
o-hit'-e-kah, brave.
shun'kah, dog.
Sna'-na, rattle.
shunk-to'-kay-chah, wolf.
She-cho'-kah, robin.
Shun'-kah-skah, white dog.
tee'-pee, tent.
tak-chah', deer.
to-kee', well, well!
Ta-tee'-yo-pah, her door.
Un-chee'-dah, grand-mother.
u-tu'-hu, oak.
wa-kan', holy, wonderful.
Wah-coo'-tay, shooter.
Wah-pay'-ton, dweller among the leaves.
Wah-chee'-win, dancing woman.
Wee-ko', beautiful woman.
Wa-doo'-tah, scarlet.
we'-yan-nah, little woman.
We-no'-nah, first-born girl.
Wah-be-day', orphan.
Zee-zee'-wee, yellow woman.