hole with my face and hands on the grass, and I thought it was still
morning. But the blue stick, with the bow and cup, was where the red
stick should be! The sun was shining low out of the blue quarter, and
it was getting ready to go under! I had slept dead all day, and it made
me feel good; but there were teeth in my belly, I was so hungry; for I
had not eaten the day before.
“I filled up on the warm water in the skin and thought about what I had
seen. Maybe all those coup-sticks and scalps meant I would be a great
warrior. But if they meant that, what more could there be, and what did
the eagle mean?
“I began to pray again as soon as the sun went under and the thin moon
appeared going to the spirit land. I prayed harder than ever because
of what the eagle said, and I could feel power getting stronger and
stronger in me every time I came back to the center. When I advanced
to the quarters, it was like floating with the pipe in the midst of a
great starry bubble. And afterwhile, whenever I began to say the prayer
to Wakon Tonka at the most sacred place, the prayer the _wakon_ taught
me, it made me cry. And this is the prayer:
“‘Grandfather, Great Mysterious One! You have been always, and before
you nothing has been. There is nothing to pray to but you. The star
nations all over the heavens are yours, and yours are the grasses of
the earth. You are older than all need, older than all pain and prayer.
Day in, day out, you are the life of things.
“‘Grandfather, all over the world the faces of living ones are alike.
In tenderness have they come up out of the ground. Look upon your
children, with children in their arms, that they may face the winds and
walk the good road to the day of quiet.
“‘Teach me to walk the soft earth, a relative to all that live. Give
me the strength to understand and the eyes to see. Help me, for
without you I am nothing.’[3]
“That is the prayer, Grandson. Maybe it will help you, Wasichu though
you are, to walk the black road and to find the flowering tree.
“The lean moon was gone and the night must have been getting old when
a great sudden voice roared from the quarter of the sundown where I
was facing. I had not seen it coming; but all at once it was there--a
heaped-up cloud coming fast towards me, with swift blue lightning on
its front and giants shouting in it. And in between the shouts that
shook the hill I could hear the deep voices of the rain singing all
together, like many warriors charging.
“I was not afraid. I felt very big and strong, and I cried back to the
thunder beings as loud as I could, ‘_hey-a-hey, hey-a-hey_,’ and they
answered. Then the lightning and the voices were all about me, so that
I could not hear the cries I sent forth, and the rain was a roaring
between thunders. I stood there, holding my pipe high in both hands,
but not a drop of rain touched me. And when the swift storm had past
and the stars were bright again, I could hear the giant voices cheering
far away.
“I knew my praying had been heard and I would see. The power was mighty
in me as I prayed around the hoop and back to the most sacred place at
the center.
“I was standing in the hole with my face and hands and pipe raised to
the Great Mysterious One, and I was crying hard while I prayed, but
I was happy and my heart sang. I was saying, ‘All over the world the
faces of living ones are alike.’ But all at once I was not saying; I
was seeing!
“I was standing on the highest hill in the center of the world. There
was no sun, but so clear was the light that what was far was near.
The circle of the world was a great hoop with the two roads crossing
where I stood, the black one and the red. And all around the hoop more
peoples than I could count were sitting together in a sacred manner.
The smokes of all the peoples’ little fires stood tall and straight
and still around the circle; and by the murmur of the voices of the
peoples, they were happy. And while I looked and wondered, there was a
tree that sprang at my feet from where the two roads crossed. It grew
so fast that, while I watched, it reached the sky and spread, filling
the heavens with blooms and singing leaves.
“Then I felt dizzy, and all at once I was sitting in the hole with my
head on the grassy edge of it. When I looked about me, the circle of
the world was empty and the sun was high above. While I sat there
looking around me at the empty world, I felt homesick for what I had
seen without my eyes, and there was an aching in my breast.
“Afterwhile I knew I was very hungry and thirsty. So I filled myself
with water from the skin; and when I looked around me again, far off
down a valley I could see the friends returning with the horse.”
The old man fell into one of his prolonged silences which I finally
broke with a question: “And the _wakon_? What did he say when you told
him?”
“I was alone with him in his tepee,” Eagle Voice replied, “and a
little fire made the light. He looked hard at me for a long time when
I had spoken, then he said: ‘You have seen in a sacred manner and your
praying has come alive. By the lightning and the thunder and the rain
that fell about you, the power to make live and to destroy will protect
you to the end of the black road, and the road will be long. You shall
breathe the dust of battles, counting many coups, and shall not be
hurt. You shall travel far and see strange peoples; but the sacred hoop
of all the peoples under the flowering tree, you shall not see by the
light of the sun. It was your father talking through the eagle. Hold
fast to the vision Wakon Tonka has sent you, and pray for the strength
to understand it. _Hetchetu aloh!_’
“Then he waved his hand, and I went out into the low day. I was very
hungry.”
IX
_The Old Bull’s Last Fight_
Dry snow had fallen in the night, and it was scurrying drearily under
a dull sky when I reached the old man’s tepee the next morning. He sat
smoking serenely with his blanket tucked about his waist and legs. “I
thought you might not come, Grandson,” he said; “but you are here, and
it is good.” When we had smoked awhile together, he began:
“We are going on my first war party today, and it is very bad weather
for fighting; but no snow has fallen in my story. The grass is getting
strong; the animals are making fat; there is a warm wind blowing; and I
am just a boy with long legs.
“After my vision quest people noticed me more than before, and they did
not treat me like a little boy. So when it was time for a war party to
start out, I went along on Whirlwind. There were thirty-seven of us,
and we were not all Oglalas. Some of us were Miniconjous and Sans Arcs,
and a few were Cheyennes, for we had camped together along the valley
of the Greasy Grass that winter. Some of us were only boys getting
started to be men; some had been in many fights and had scars to show;
and there were a few who almost could have been the grandfathers of the
boys.
“Crazy Horse was leading the party, and he was already getting a big
name then, for he had a mysterious power. People talked about him, and
told stories of his deeds in fights with the Crows and Shoshonis. Also
he had fought the soldiers when the hundred were killed on the ridge,
and that was a story too. He was not a big man, for I was even then
almost as tall as he; and he was not a little man either; just above a
little man, and he was not fat at all. He was slender and very strong;
and his face was lean too. It looked sharpened like an arrowhead. They
said he never wanted anything for himself but a good horse and weapons
to fight for his people, and that he always gave everything away.
“His hair was not so dark as most other Lakotas’ hair, but was a little
brown; and his skin was not so dark either. He always braided his
hair with one braid down each side of his head, and he wore a braided
buckskin with his medicine in a little bag at the end of it, also an
eagle-bone whistle, like mine, tied on. This he always had with him.
“Just before the beginning of a battle, when they were ready to charge,
he would get off his horse and take a handful of earth from a mole hill
or an ant hill or a prairie dog’s house. This he would put between the
horse’s ears and then on the hips of the horse. After that he would
stand in front of the horse and throw the earth back over him. Then he
would stand behind and throw some towards the horse’s head. Last, he
would rub some of the earth from the horse and put it on his own head.
He never wore a war bonnet in battle and he did not paint his face. He
wore only one spotted-eagle feather tied in his hair and hanging down
the back of his head. It was Chips, the _wakon_, who taught him to do
this, and always advised him. He would be ahead in a fight, and when
he killed an enemy he did not count coup. He would call others to take
the honors. I think he had so many honors he did not want any more, but
helped others to get them.
“He had a society of his own; not a feast and dance society, but just
followers. They were called _Ho-ksi-ha-ka-ta_ [The Last Child]. The
last child in a family is not thought of as much as the others, and so
he chose the last child to follow him. They were very brave warriors
because they had to do great deeds and be honored even more than the
first child. They were always trying to make themselves greater, and so
they were not afraid to do anything.
“They say the ponies Crazy Horse rode never lasted very long. They wore
out fast because of the great power that was in him. It was from a
vision that he had. When he rode into a battle, he would remember his
vision and be in it again, so that nothing in this world could hurt
him. I do not know this, but so the people all put it out. They did not
say it about other brave men, and I think it was so. When the Wasichus
murdered him, they had to do it from behind when he was not ready for
battle.
“I had seen him around the village as long as I could remember. People
thought he was queer because he did not talk often, and sometimes
he would not notice anybody. But he would stop to play with little
children, and he liked to tease and joke them till they laughed. When
he was on a war party, he was different. Then he would joke with the
warriors, and tell funny stories. It kept them feeling good, so that
they could fight better. They all liked him, and whatever he said, they
would do that.
“We rode towards where the sun comes up when the summer days are long.
The world was young and wide as day, and we were going almost to the
end of it beyond Mini Shoshay [the Missouri]. We crossed the Rosebud
and the Tongue and the Powder, and there were no enemies. The young
grass was getting strong for our horses, and there were deer and elk in
plenty, so that, man and horse, we feasted every night.
“There was story-telling around the fire when we had feasted; and there
was always one I did not hear the end of, being over-full of meat and
heavy sleep. When I had to take my turn along with older horse-guards;
it was like a wonderful story with no one to tell it out there under
the stars, listening to the horses chewing and blowing, and watching
every shadow all around. It made me feel tall and brave, and something
was always about to happen all at once, so I did not feel like sleeping.
“In the daytime we were often merry; and if someone started singing, we
would all sing together. That made the horses feel good, and maybe one
would neigh and start the others neighing.
“Where we could not see far, there would be riders out ahead of us
and off on both sides to watch for enemies. Sometimes when we were
walking the horses slowly to rest them, somebody would start a funny
story, and others would crowd close to take it from him and go on with
it. There was one about the young woman bear who saw a handsome young
hunter; and right away she loved him so much that she made up her mind
to have him for her man. This was very hard on the young hunter, and it
got harder and harder the longer the story became. He did not want to
shoot anybody who loved him so much, but he did not want to be her man
either. Sometimes he would think he had lost her at last; but just at
the wrong time she would show up again.
“Maybe there was a pretty girl and he had been sneaking around a long
while, trying to make her talk to him. And at last he would catch her
down by the creek when she was getting water for her mother, and they
would be talking. Then that woman bear would rush out of the brush
groaning and with tears running down her face, because she loved him so
much. And when the girl screamed and ran and he turned and ran too, the
bear would chase him--maybe up a tree.
“Then maybe the handsome young hunter had the girl for his woman at
last, and the bear would sneak into his tepee in the night just at the
wrong time, and there would be a big woman fight in there, and all the
people would come yelling to see who might be killing somebody.
“The bear always got away and there never was an end to that story. I
think it is still getting longer somewhere. Anybody could tell about
another time the woman bear did something, and he could make it up if
he could not remember any. This story had to be told like something
very sad and without seeming to know it was funny. I would laugh so
hard to hear the story and see how sad and worried the story-tellers
looked, that I could hardly stay on my horse. Maybe at night the bear
story would begin again; and when they got it going it was hard to
stop.”
Eagle Voice chuckled awhile, evidently enjoying remembered fragments of
the bear yarn.
“Yes,” he continued at length, “High Horse and I would roll and hold
our bellies with laughing. High Horse was a Miniconjou boy as old as I
was. I knew him when we were small and I used to play over there being
Tashina’s horse, and he was a girl’s horse too. It was on this war
party that we began to be brother-friends. We were always together;
and we liked each other so much that we decided we had been twins over
in Twin Land and had got parted because we did not happen to find the
same mother over here. We had heard the old _ohunka_ story from our
grandmothers, and maybe we did not quite believe it; but we wanted to,
because the story made it more wonderful for us to be together.
“Twins are not like other people, and there is something _wakon_ about
them. They come from Twin Land where they have lived together always;
and when they come into this world looking for a mother, they ride
around on jack rabbits. Nobody can see them; but they ride around
anyway, looking and looking for a good and pretty young woman. Maybe
she is getting water from a spring or a creek and the twins have
followed her on their jack rabbits. They are hiding in the brush,
and when the good and pretty young woman leans over, they hurry and
get inside of her. If only one gets inside, then the other must find
himself another mother, and all their lives each will be hunting the
other one.
“So we had found each other, and we said we were never going to be
parted any more. If the story wasn’t so, why did everybody know it?
“Beyond the Powder we came to a great flat land where many antelope
were feeding. Some high buttes were there standing all alone, and when
High Horse and I climbed one of them, far off towards where you are
always looking [south] we could see the tops of Pa Sapa [the Black
Hills] low down in the sky like a black thundercloud just beginning to
come up.
“We crossed the Slim Buttes, where our people had a big fight with the
soldiers a long while afterwards, and then we turned left towards where
the White Giant lives. Afterwhile we came to a stream that ran the same
way [the little Missouri] until it turned towards where the sun comes
up and ran into Mini Shoshay [the Missouri]. But before we got there,
we had to go through a strange land that was not like this world, and
sometimes it was hard to travel and we had to go around [badlands].
There would be flat grassland with many buttes scattered in it, all
staring at us like strangers that maybe never saw men and horses
before. And there would be places where the land was all tangled with
buttes and gullies; and sometimes these were burning and smoking. High
Horse and I said maybe it was always like that when you were getting
near the end of the world. Sometimes when I would look around, and
everything was still and strange and there were only the ponies’ hoofs
to hear, it would make me feel like getting out of breath.
“Afterwhile we came to where they said it was not far to Mini Shoshay,
and we would have to make boats. We were on the right side of the
little river that we were following, and our scouts had seen bison on
the other side. The river was not very deep or wide, so we crossed over
to kill some bison and to get hides for the boats.
“There was a steep hill, almost too steep for the horses; and we rode
up there to look. Bison were grazing all over the flat green valley in
among little hills down there, and they could not smell us or see us.
It was good to look at them, and we lay down along the rim of the hill
to rest and see awhile before we started killing. Right below us the
hill was very steep, and we could see almost straight down. One Horn,
the oldest in our band, was lying beside High Horse and me with his
chin on his arms, just looking; and afterwhile he said: ‘Watch that
old bull right down there. He is eloping with that young cow. See him?
When they do that, the cow is always a nice fat one. She will make good
eating, and I want a bite out of her hump.’
“We looked down, and there was an old grandfather bull with a young cow
following close after him. I think he was the biggest bull I ever saw,
and he looked proud and handsome like a great chief who lived a long
while ago in some great-grandfather’s story. He walked slowly with the
cow at his tail and did not notice the other bison at all.
“Then somebody said: ‘Look over there! We’re going to see a big bull
fight!’ We looked, and there were four fine young bulls all in a row
walking slowly towards the grandfather and the cow. When they were
not very far apart, they all stopped and looked at each other awhile.
Then the first young bull began to roll and tear the earth up with his
horns, throwing the dirt over his back and bellowing. When the old
bull saw this, he began doing the same thing, rooting up big chunks of
sod and tossing them over his back. His voice was deep like thunder
rumbling. Then they stopped and looked at each other a little while
with their muzzles near the ground.
“All at once they both charged, and when their skulls came together
it was like a gunshot. There was so much dust for a little while after
they came together that we could not see what was happening in there.
The cow just stood looking, and so did the three other young bulls.
Then all at once we saw one of the bulls up in the air. When the dust
cleared away, the grandfather was wiping his horns on the grass. Then
he walked over to the cow and licked her face, while the young bull was
getting up and staggering away with his insides dragging and his hind
feet tangled in them.
“In a little while the second young bull began rolling and bellowing
and tearing the earth with his horns. The old bull did the same; and
when they came together the dust rose in a cloud. They fought so hard
that we could hear them panting and grunting. Then the dust thinned in
the wind and we saw one rise into the air and the other horn him coming
down. Again the grandfather wiped his horns on the grass and went back
to lick the cow. The other one was trying to get up, but he would
always fall down again, and his belly was all torn open.
“Then the third young bull did as the others had done, and there was
a longer fight in the dust and more panting and grunting. It ended
the same as before, with the young bull staggering away dragging his
insides. But we could see that the old grandfather was bleeding hard
and wobbling. This time he just stood there and did not go back to the
cow. High Horse and I were sorry, because we were on his side; and we
wanted One Horn to shoot the last young bull with his gun. But he just
laughed at us.
“Right away the fourth young bull rolled and tossed earth and bellowed,
and the two came together with a loud sound. High Horse and I yelled,
‘_hi-yay, hi-yay_,’ cheering the old one; but One Horn told us to stop;
and, anyway, maybe the young one would think we were cheering him. This
last fight was the longest of all. We could see big bodies getting
tossed in the dust, and the panting and grunting were louder than ever.
Afterwhile the cloud cleared away. The young one was trying to get up,
but, the way it looked, one of his shoulders was ripped nearly off and
he was open underneath. The old one was still on his legs, bleeding
hard from his nose and his belly, and we could see it was hard for him
to steady himself. Then he staggered back to the cow without trying to
wipe off his horns first. He just stood there trying to steady himself
and bleeding hard.
“And what do you think the cow did? She went over to the last young
bull that was trying to get up, and nudged him and pushed him, trying
to help. She was right under us, and One Horn shot her with the gun he
got at Red Cloud’s agency.
“When we went down there, the five bulls were dead, and they were all
so torn up and full of holes that we could not use their hides for
boats. Also, the old men said we should not eat any of their meat,
because they had murdered each other. But the young cow was fat and
tender; and when we had killed and skinned enough bison for the boats,
we had a big feast.”
X
_The Boys Who Had Sister Trouble_
When I had returned from the woodpile and fed the stove, Eagle Voice
continued eagerly:
“There is no meat like that any more, and I can taste it now. It is
hard to chew the meat they have these days; but sometimes I get a
tender piece from a calf, and it always makes me think of a story I
heard for the first time while we were eating that cow. Also, whenever
I think of the story, it makes me hungry like a boy, although it is not
about eating.
“We feasted and listened to stories most of the night, while the
horse-guards took turns. Sometimes I would fall asleep, being stuffed
with meat, then I would be wide awake again and everybody would be
laughing at some funny tale, or saying, ‘_how! how!_’ around the
circle, cheering a good story just ended. Then I would eat some more,
and listen to the next one.
“Charger told this one, and I can see him yet, although he fed the
wolves somewhere, I do not know how many snows ago. I thought he was an
old man then, but now I think that he was almost young. He was always
joking, but I cannot remember him laughing, for he had a face that
made him look always sorry and surprised. He could never tell a story
sitting down, because he could not tell it all with his mouth. He told
it mostly with his face and his hands and his whole body; so he had to
tell it on his feet, and if you did not see the story he was telling,
you could not hear it all. Sometimes when he got a tale started he
would go right on telling it without a word for a while, and everybody
would look and look and not move. There was one about a wild young
fellow who played ghost, and people would coax him to tell it again,
although they knew it as well as he did. They wanted to see him telling
it with looks and motions.
“This wild young fellow liked tobacco very much and he never had enough
of it. He was always wondering how he could get some more. So one day
he was traveling with his father and his mother, his grandfather and
his grandmother. They had been away somewhere and they were going back
to camp. There was some fresh meat on the pony-drag so that they could
eat on the way, and with the meat there was a fresh cow’s bladder
packed full of _wasna_, made of meat and tallow and buffalo berries
pounded up together.
“They were all traveling along on their horses with the pony-drag; and
they got to talking about tobacco. Maybe the wild young man started
it. There was none at all in their _iglaka_ [a family outfit on the
move]--only red willow bark; and when they camped that night there
would be nothing to mix with it for a good smoke.
“When the sun was getting low they saw an _iglaka_ coming towards them.
It was an old man and an old woman, and they were mourning. So when
the two _iglakas_ met they stopped to talk awhile and tell each other
what they had heard. Then the grandfather of the first _iglaka_ asked
the old man of the second _iglaka_ for some tobacco. And the second old
man said he had not any; but his son was lying dead in a tepee back
there, and in the tepee was an offering of five plugs of tobacco. These
old people had stayed all night with their dead son and now they had
started to wander and mourn. The old woman was crying all the time they
were talking. And the old man said: ‘He was a very generous son, and
now he is dead back there. I think if you ask him for one of the plugs
he will let you have it. He always liked to give to old people.’ When
he said this, they both wept hard.