1838-1840.--"Eagle Help."--His Power as War Prophet.--Makes
No-Flight Dance.--We Pray Against It.--Unsuccessful on the
War-Path.--Their Revenge.--Jean Nicollet and J. C.
Fremont.--Opposition to Schools.--Progress in Teaching.--Method
of Counting.--"Lake That Speaks."--Our Trip to Fort
Snelling.--Incidents of the Way.--The Changes There.--Our Return
Journey.--Birch-Bark Canoe.--Mary's Story.--"Le Grand
Canoe."--Baby Born on the Way.--Walking Ten Miles.--Advantages
of Travel.--My Visit to the Missouri River.--"Fort
Pierre."--Results.
"Eagle Help" was a good specimen of a war prophet and war leader among
the Dakotas. At the time of the commencement of the mission, he was a
man of family and in middle age, but he was the first man to learn to
read and write his language. And from the very first, no one had
clearer apprehensions of the advantages of that attainment. He soon
became one of the best helps in studying the Dakota, and the best
critical helper in translations. He wanted good pay for a service, but
he was ever ready to do it, and always reliable. When my horse failed
me, on the trip up from Fort Snelling, and I had walked fifty miles,
Eagle Help was ready, for a consideration (my waterproof coat), to go
on foot and bring up the baggage I had left. And in the early spring
of 1839, when Mr. Pond would remove his family--wife and child--to
join his brother in the work near Fort Snelling, Eagle Help was the
man to pilot his canoe down the Minnesota.
But, notwithstanding his readiness to learn and to impart, to receive
help and give help--notwithstanding his knowledge of the "new way," of
which his wife was a follower, and his near relations to us in our
missionary work, he did not, at once, abandon his Dakota customs, one
of which was going on the war-path.
As a war prophet, he claimed to be able to get into communication with
the spirit world, and thus to be made a _seer_. After fasting and
praying and dancing the circle dance, a _vision_ of the enemies he
sought to kill would come to him. He was made to see, in this trance
or dream, whichever it might be, the whole panorama, the river or
lake, the prairie or wood, and the Ojibwas in canoes or on the land,
and the spirit in the vision said to him, "Up, Eagle Help, and kill."
This vision and prophecy had heretofore never failed, he said.
And so, when he came back from escorting Mr. Gavan and Mr. Pond to the
Mississippi River, he determined to get up a war party. He made his
"yoomne wachepe" (circle dance), in which the whole village
participated--he dreamed his dream, he saw his vision, and was
confident of a successful campaign. About a score of young men painted
themselves for the war; they fasted and feasted and drilled by dancing
the no-flight dance, and made their hearts firm by hearing the brave
deeds of older warriors, who were now _hors de combat_ by age.
In the meantime, the thought that our good friend Eagle Help should
lead out a war party to kill and mangle Ojibwa women and children
greatly troubled us. We argued and entreated, but our words were not
heeded. Among other things, we said we would pray that the war party
might not be successful. That was too much of a menace. Added to this,
they came and asked Mr. Huggins to grind corn for them on our little
ox-power mill, which he refused to do. They were greatly enraged, and,
just before they started out, they killed and ate two of the mission
cows. After a rather long and difficult tramp they returned without
having seen an Ojibwa. Their failure they attributed entirely to our
prayers, and so, as they returned ashamed, they took off the edge of
their disgrace by killing another of our unoffending animals.
After this, it was some months before Eagle Help would again be our
friend and helper. In the meantime, Dr. Williamson and his family
returned from Ohio, bringing with them Miss Fanny Huggins, to be a
teacher in the place of Mrs. Pond. Miss Huggins afterward became Mrs.
Jonas Pettijohn, and both she and her husband were for many years
valuable helpers in the mission work. Also this summer brought to
Lac-qui-parle such distinguished scientific gentlemen as M. Jean
Nicollet and J. C. Fremont. M. Nicollet took an interest in our war
difficulty, and of his own motion made arrangements in behalf of the
Indians to pay for the mission cattle destroyed. And so that glory and
that shame were alike forgotten. In after years Eagle Help affirmed
that his power of communicating with the spirit world as a war prophet
was destroyed by his knowledge of letters and the religion of the
Bible. Shall we accept that as true? And, if so, what shall we say of
modern spiritism? Is it in accord with living a true Christian life?
Thus events succeeded each other rapidly. But Mary and I and the baby
boy, "Good Bird," lived still in the "upper chamber," and were not
ashamed to invite the French savant, Jean Nicollet, to come and take
tea with us.
During these first years of missionary work at Lac-qui-parle, the
school was well attended. It was only once in a while that the voice
of opposition was raised against the children. Occasionally some one
would come up from below and tell about the fight that was going on
there _against_ the Treaty appropriation for Education.
The missionaries down there were charged with wanting to get hold of
the Indians' money; and so the provision for education made by the
treaty of 1837 effectually blocked all efforts at teaching among those
lower Sioux. What should have been a help became a great hindrance.
Indians and traders joined to oppose the use of that fund for the
purpose for which it was intended, and finally the government yielded
and turned over the accumulated money to be distributed among
themselves. The Wahpatons of Lac-qui-parle had no interest in that
treaty; and had yet made no treaty with the government and had not a
red cent of money anywhere that missionaries could, by any hook or
crook, lay hold of. Nevertheless it was easy to get up a fear and
belief; for was it possible that white men and women would come here
and teach year after year, and not expect, in some way and at some
time, to get money out of them? If they ever made a treaty, and sold
land to the government, would not the missionaries bring in large
bills against them? It was easy to work up this matter in their own
minds, and make it all seem true, and the result was the soldiers were
ordered to stop the children from coming to school. There were some
such moods as this, and our school had a vacation. But the absurdity
appeared pretty soon, and the children were easily induced to come
back.
Mr. and Mrs. Pond were now gone. For the next winter, Mary and Miss
Fanny Huggins took care of the girls and younger boys, and Mr.
Huggins, with such assistance as I could give, took care of the boys
and young men. The women also undertook, under the instruction of Mrs.
Huggins and Miss Fanny, to spin and knit and weave. Mr. Renville had
already among his flock some sheep. The wool was here and the flax was
soon grown. Spinning-wheels and knitting-needles were brought on, and
Mr. Huggins manufactured a loom. They knit socks and stockings, and
wove skirts and blankets, while the little girls learned to sew
patchwork and make quilts. All this was of advantage as education.
My own special effort in the class-room during the first years was in
teaching a knowledge of figures. The language of counting in Dakota
was limited. The "wancha, nonpa, yamne"--one, two, three, up to
ten,--every child learned, as he bent down his fingers and thumbs
until all were gathered into two bunches, and then let them loose as
geese flying away. Eleven was _ten more one_, and so on. Twenty was
_ten twos_ or _twice ten_, and thirty _ten threes_. With each ten the
fingers were all bent down, and one was kept down to remember the ten.
Thus, when ten tens were reached, the whole of the two hands was bent
down, each finger meaning ten. This was the perfected "bending down."
It was "opawinge"--one hundred. Then, when the hands were both bent
down for hundreds, the climax was supposed to be reached, which could
only be expressed by "again also bending down." When something larger
than this was reached, it was a _great count_--something which they
nor we can comprehend--a million.
On the other side of _one_ the Dakota language is still more
defective. Only one word of any definiteness exists--_hankay_, half.
We can say hankay-hankay--_the half of a half_. But it does not seem
to have been much used. Beyond this there was nothing. A _piece_ is a
word of uncertain quantity, and is not quite suited to introduce among
the certainties of mathematics. Thus, the poverty of the language has
been a great obstacle in teaching arithmetic. And that poorness of
language shows their poverty of thought in the same line. The Dakotas
are not, as a general thing, at all clever in arithmetic.
* * * * *
Before the snows had disappeared or the ducks come back to this
northern land, in the spring of 1840, a baby girl had been added to
the little family in the upper chamber. By the first of June, Mary was
feeling well, and exceedingly anxious to make a trip across the
prairie. She had been cooped up here now nearly three years. There was
nowhere to go. Lac-qui-parle is the "Lake that speaks," but who could
be found around it? And no one had any knowledge of any great Indian
talk held there that might have justified the name. But the romance
was all taken out of the French name by the criticism of Eagle Help,
that the Dakota name, "Mdaeyaydan," did not mean "Lake that talks,"
but "Lake that connects." And so Lac-qui-parle had no historic
interest. It was not a good place to go on a picnic. She had been to
the Indian village frequently, but that was not a place to visit for
pleasure. And on the broad prairie there was no objective point. Where
could she go for a pleasure trip, but to Fort Snelling?
And so we made arrangements for the journey. The little boy "Good
Bird" was left behind, and the baby Isabella had to go along, of
course. We were with Mr. Renville's annual caravan going to the
fur-trader's Mecca.
The prairie journey was pleasant and enjoyable, though somewhat
fatiguing. We had our own team and could easily keep in company with
the long line of wooden carts, carrying buffalo robes and other furs.
It was, indeed, rather romantic. But when we reached the Traverse des
Sioux, we were at our wit's end how to proceed further. That was the
terminus of the wagon-road. It was then regarded as absolutely
impossible to take any wheeled vehicle through by land to Fort
Snelling. Several years after this we began to do it, but it was very
difficult. Then it was not to be tried. Mr. Sibley's fur boat, it was
expected, would have been at the Traverse, but it was not. And a large
canoe which was kept there had gotten loose and floated away. Only a
little crazy canoe, carrying two persons, was found to cross the
stream with. Nothing remained but to abandon the journey or to try it
on horseback. And for that not a saddle of any kind could be obtained.
But Mary was a plucky little woman. She did not mean to use the word
"fail" if she could help it. And so we tied our buffalo robe and
blanket on one of the horses, and she mounted upon it, with a rope for
a stirrup. Many a young woman would have been at home there, but Mary
had not grown up on horseback. And so at the end of a dozen miles,
when we came to the river where Le Sueur now is, she was very glad to
learn that the large canoe had been found. In that she and baby
Isabella took passage with Mr. Renville's girls and an Indian woman or
two to steer and paddle. The rest of the company went on by land,
managing to meet the boat at night and camp together. This we did for
the next four nights. It was a hard journey for Mary. The current was
not swift. The canoe was heavy and required hard paddling to make it
move onward. The Dakota young women did not care to work, and their
helm's-woman was not in a condition to do it. On the fourth day out
they ran ashore somewhat hurriedly and put up their tent, where the
woman pilot gave birth to a baby girl. They named it "By-the-way." One
day they came in very hungry to an Indian village. The Dakota young
women were called to a tent to eat sugar. Then Mary thought they might
have called "the white woman" also, but they did not. She did not
consider that they were relatives.
By and by the mouth of the Minnesota was reached, through hardship and
endurance. But then it was to be "a pleasure trip," and this was the
way in which the pleasure came.
Since we had last seen him, S. W. Pond had married Miss Cordelia
Eggleston, a sister of Mrs. J. D. Stevens. The station at Lake Harriet
had been abandoned, the Indians having left Lake Calhoun first. Mr.
Stevens had gone down to Wabashaw's village, and the Pond brothers,
with their families, were occupying what was called the "Stone House,"
within a mile of the Fort. Mary found an old school friend in the
garrison, and so the two weeks spent in this neighborhood were
pleasant and profitable.
We now addressed ourselves to the return journey. The fur boat had
gone up and come down again. We were advised to try a birch-bark
canoe, and hire a couple of French voyagers to row it. In the first
part of the river we went along nicely. But after a while we began to
meet with accidents. The strong arms of the paddlers would ever and
anon push the canoe square on a snag. The next thing to be done was to
haul ashore and mend the boat. By and by our mending material was all
used up. It was Saturday morning, and we could reach Traverse that day
if we met with no mishap. But we did meet with a mishap. Suddenly we
struck a snag which tore such a hole in our bark craft that it was
with difficulty we got ashore. By land, it was eight or ten miles to
the Traverse. The Frenchmen were sent on for a cart to bring up the
baggage. But rather than wait for them, Mary and I elected to walk and
carry baby Bella. To an Indian woman that would have been a mere
trifle--not worth speaking of. But to me it meant work. I had no strap
to tie her on my back, and the little darling seemed to get heavier
every mile we went. But, then, Mary had undertaken the trip for
pleasure, and so we must not fail to find in it all the pleasure we
could. And we did it. Altogether, that trip to Fort Snelling was a
thing to be remembered and not regretted.
MARY'S STORY.
"FORT SNELLING, June 19, 1840.
"We left Lac-qui-parle June 1, and reached Le Bland's the
Saturday following, having enjoyed as pleasant a journey across
the prairie as we could expect or hope. We had expected to find
at that place a barge, but we could not even procure an Indian
canoe. With no other alternative, we mounted our horses on
Monday, with no other saddles than our baggage. Mine was a
buffalo robe and blanket fastened with a trunk strap. My
spirits sank within me as I gave our little Isabella to an
Indian woman to carry perched up in a blanket behind, and
clung to my horse's mane as we ascended and descended the steep
hills, and thought a journey of seventy miles by land was
before us.
"I rode thus nearly ten miles, and then walked a short distance
to rest myself, to the place where our company took lunch.
There, to our great joy, a Frenchman exclaimed, 'Le grand
canoe, le grand canoe!' and we found that the Indian who had
been commissioned to search had found and brought it down the
river thus far. I gladly exchanged my seat on the horse for one
in the canoe, with two Indian women and Mr. Renville's
daughters. Our progress was quite comfortable, though slow, as
some of our party were invited to Indian lodges to feast
occasionally, while the rest of us were sunning by the river's
bank.
"On the fourth day we had an addition to our party. The woman
at the helm said she was sick--and we went on shore perhaps
three-quarters of an hour on account of the rain, and when it
ceased, she was ready with her infant to step into the canoe
and continue rowing, although she did not resume her seat in
the stern until the next morning. This is a specimen of Indian
life.
"We have found Dr. and Mrs. Turner in the garrison here; she
was formerly Mary Stuart of Mackinaw."
"Traverse des Sioux, July 4.
"The canoe (birch-bark) which we praised so highly failed us
about eight miles below this place, in consequence of not
having a supply of gum to mend a large rent made by a snag
early this morning. Not thinking it was quite so far, I chose
to try walking, husband carrying Isabella, the Frenchmen
having hastened on to find our horses to bring up the baggage.
We reached the river and found there was no boat here with
which to cross. Mr. Riggs waded with Isabella, the water being
about two and a half feet deep, and an Indian woman came to
carry me over, when our horses were brought up. Husband mounted
without any saddle, and I, quivering like an aspen, seated
myself behind, clinging so tightly that I feared I should pull
us both off. I do not think it was fear, at least not entirely,
for I am still exceedingly fatigued and dizzy, but I have
reason to be grateful that I did not fall into the river from
faintness, as husband thought I was in danger of doing.
Isabella's face is nearly blistered, and mine almost as brown
as an Indian's."
"LAC-QUI-PARLE MISSION, July 27, 1840.
"We are once more in the quiet enjoyment of home, and are
somewhat rested from the fatigue of our journey. The repetition
of that parental injunction, 'Mary, do be careful of your
health,' recalled your watchful care most forcibly. How often
have I heard these words, and perhaps too often have regarded
them less strictly than an anxious mother deemed necessary for
my highest welfare. And even now, were it not that the
experience of a few years may correct my _notions_ about
health, I should be so unfashionable as to affirm that
necessary exposures, such as sleeping on the prairie in a tent
drenched with rain, and walking some two or three miles in the
dewy grass, where the water would gush forth from our shoes at
every step, and then continuing our walk until they were more
than comfortably dry, as we did on the morning our canoe failed
us, are not as injurious to the health as the unnecessary
exposures of fashionable life."
The Sioux on the Mississippi and Minnesota Rivers were known to be but
a small fraction of the Dakota people. We at Lac-qui-parle had
frequent intercourse with the Sissetons of Lake Traverse. Sometimes,
too, we had visits from the Yanktonais, who followed the buffalo on
the great prairies this side of the Missouri River. But more than half
of the Sioux nation were said to be Teetons, who lived beyond the Big
Muddy. So it seemed very desirable that we extend our acquaintance
among them.
About the first of September, Mr. Huggins and I, having prepared
ourselves with a small outfit, started for the Missouri. We had one
pony for the saddle, and one horse and cart to carry the baggage. At
first we joined a party of wild Sioux from the Two Woods, whose leader
was "Thunder Face." He was a great scamp, but had promised to furnish
us with guides to the Missouri, after we had reached the Coteau. The
party were going out to hunt buffalo, and moved by short days'
marches. In a week we had only made fifty miles. After some vexatious
delays and some coaxing and buying, we succeeded in getting started
ahead with two young men, the principal one being "Sacred Cow." The
first day brought us into the region of buffalo, one of which Sacred
Cow killed. This came near spoiling our journey. The young men now
wanted to turn about and join the hunt. An additional bargain had to
be made. In about two weeks from Lac-qui-parle we reached the
Missouri, striking it near Fort Pierre. To this trading fort we
crossed, and there spent a good part of a week. Forty or fifty teepees
of Teetons were encamped there. They treated us kindly (inviting us to
a dog feast on one occasion), as did also the white people and
half-breeds of the post. We gathered a good deal of information in
regard to the western bands of the Sioux nation; we communicated to
them something of the object of our missionary work, and of the good
news of salvation, and then returned home pretty nearly by the way we
went. We had been gone a month. The result of our visit was the
conclusion that we could not do much, or attempt much, for the
civilization and Christianization of those roving bands of Dakotas.