VISITORS FROM THE NORTH
At dawn the three lads stole noiselessly from the lodge and raced away
to the stream, lured on by the shouts and laughter of a jolly little
company who were already in the water. The first plunge into the icy
current from the mountains dispelled the last traces of drowsiness and
sent the blood bounding through their veins. Then followed a few moments
of wild frolicking, for all the boys and most of the younger men of the
tribe were assembled at the stream. When they emerged from the water
they chased one another about the plain until they were thoroughly dry
and glowing with health. Then they ran to the camp to eat bountifully of
the food which the women were already preparing.
At sunrise the warriors who had been selected to dance in the Buffalo
Dance walked to the center of the village. Each of the dancers wore the
skin of a bull buffalo, including the head and horns, and about his
ankles were tied tufts of buffalo hair. Their faces and bodies were
streaked and spotted with clay of various colors, and fastened to their
backs were small bundles of willow branches. They carried their hunting
weapons, and small rawhide rattles filled with pebbles.
While the dancers were assembling, a number of scouts mounted their
ponies and galloped away to watch from the ridges about the camp. At the
same time Rain Crow made his way out on the plain with the sacred
medicine-pipe, and seated himself beside a painted buffalo skull to
smoke and petition the Great Mystery to send the great herds of
buffaloes near the Minneconjoux camp.
The beating of the war drums drew the people to the spot selected for
the ceremony, and when the tribe was finally assembled the dance
commenced. About twenty warriors took part, and as the old men sang the
sacred buffalo songs the dancers began to imitate the animals which they
were supposed to represent. Keeping time with the drums, they moved
slowly around in a circle, performing all the antics of the great beasts
which they believed they were luring to their hunting grounds. Once
begun, the dance might be continued for several days, unless the animals
suddenly appeared and abruptly ended the ceremony. When a dancer became
tired he stooped over, and one of the onlookers, who were waiting to
take advantage of such an emergency, immediately pretended to drive an
arrow through him. Then the exhausted dancer fell and was dragged from
the circle, and the fresh recruit gladly surrendered himself to the
strenuous exertions of the dance.
"That man who is throwing dirt over himself is Kicking Bull. He is a
great hunter," Sun Bird told White Otter. "Once he sent his arrow right
through a bull buffalo. Another time he killed three bears that were
bigger than his pony. You will see him do some great things when we go
out to hunt the buffaloes."
"I will keep close beside him," declared White Otter.
White Otter was thoroughly familiar with every detail of the interesting
ceremony, for he had seen the Ogalalas dance the Buffalo Dance many
times. Like all his people, he had deep reverence for these mysterious
medicine-rites, and he believed implicitly in their alleged power to
bring about the desired result. He had little doubt, therefore, that the
combined efforts of Rain Crow and the dancers in the present ceremony,
would soon bring the buffaloes within sight of the village.
"Come, now we will go and watch my father," Sun Bird proposed, after
they had spent some time at the dance.
When they arrived at the edge of the village they saw Rain Crow standing
rigid and immovable some distance out on the plain. He held the sacred
medicine-pipe before him at arm's length.
"See, my father is pointing the pipe toward the place where we first see
the buffaloes," said Sun Bird. "Now he is looking up and singing to the
Great Mystery. He is making strong medicine. Pretty soon he will bring
the buffaloes."
They would have liked to approach sufficiently near to hear the words of
the mysterious medicine-songs, but they knew better than to make the
attempt. To have intruded upon Rain Crow at that time would have broken
his power, and invited the censure of the entire tribe. Therefore, they
curbed their curiosity, and contented themselves with watching him from
the border of the camp. They had not been there long when they were
approached by a prominent member of Sun Bird's war party, who invited
them to his lodge to partake of a feast which he had prepared in honor
of White Otter.
"My brother, you have opened your lodge. It is good. I will go in and
eat with you," said White Otter.
When the young Ogalala parted from his host some time later he was
immediately invited to accept the bounteous hospitality of another
admirer. Aware that a refusal would be interpreted as an insult, White
Otter saw nothing to do but to accept. As the etiquette of his people
required a visitor to eat heartily at each lodge to which he was
invited, and as each host invariably endeavored to offer a more
sumptuous repast than his neighbor, White Otter foresaw embarrassing
complications ahead of him. By the time he had fulfilled his
obligations at three of these feasts he found himself almost helpless
from the effects of his enforced gluttony. Sun Bird and Little Raven
were in a similar state of discomfort, for they had felt it a matter of
duty to accompany their friend to each lodge to which he had been
invited. As the day was but half over the situation looked serious.
Having accepted the first invitations, they realized that it would be
impossible to refuse those that were sure to follow. Still, they knew it
would be equally impossible to consume more food, and they were aware
that to attend a feast and slight the repast would be a greater insult
than to stay away. They were searching their brains for a way of escape,
when they were unexpectedly delivered from their awkward dilemma.
"See, Feather Dog is returning. He has something to tell about," cried
Sun Bird, pointing toward a solitary horseman who was galloping toward
the camp.
The cry was echoed through the village, and the people rushed from the
lodges in a state of wild excitement. Some feared that he was bringing
warning of an impending attack by the Crows, others declared that the
buffaloes were in sight, and still others that the Uncapapas were
approaching from the north. Determined to be prepared for an emergency,
Curly Horse instantly assembled the fighting men and held himself in
readiness to defend the camp. When Feather Dog finally came within
shouting distance, however, he called out that a great company of
Uncapapas were approaching the village. The news filled the Minneconjoux
with delight, and when Feather Dog rode into the camp they crowded
eagerly around him to inquire about the famous people who were coming to
visit them. Then Curly Horse called the warriors in council, and made an
address.
"My people, you have heard the words of Feather Dog. He has told you
that our brothers, the great chief Laughing Bird and his people, are
coming here. It is good. I will ask you to open your lodges to them.
Pretty soon you will see Laughing Bird and some great warriors come
across the plain. We will go to meet them. Feather Dog, I will ask you
to go back and tell Laughing Bird that Curly Horse will ride out to
meet him. I have finished," said the Minneconjoux war chief.
As Feather Dog raced away with a message of welcome, Curly Horse went
slowly about the group of Minneconjoux fighting men selecting the
warriors whom he wished to accompany him. He chose twenty-five of the
most renowned men of the tribe, and ordered them to prepare themselves
to meet Laughing Bird and his escort. The warriors rushed to their
lodges to array themselves in all their finery, while the boys brought
in their fastest ponies, which the women proceeded to decorate with
feathers and strips of fur.
When the escort for Curly Horse finally assembled in the center of the
village they made a striking appearance, and the people greeted them
with shouts of approval. They were a splendid-looking body of men, and
the eyes of the Minneconjoux chief flashed with pride as he inspected
them. Then he called Rain Crow to his side, and together they led the
gallant little company from the camp. As they cantered slowly across the
plain, the people watching from the border of the village saw another
company of riders appear on the summit of a ridge to the north. These
horsemen watched the Minneconjoux a few minutes, and then they galloped
forward to meet them.
"See, Laughing Bird and his warriors are coming to talk with our
people," said Sun Bird, as he stood at the edge of the camp with White
Otter. "When those people come here you will see a great man."
The two chiefs advanced with their escorts until they were less than a
bow-shot apart, and then each halted his followers and rode forward
alone. They met and clasped hands, and after a complimentary exchange of
greetings they signaled their warriors to join them. The latter appeared
to splendid advantage as they moved slowly forward in perfect alignment,
each rider sitting erect and dignified on his prancing pony, with his
great war bonnet of eagle feathers reaching almost to the ground behind
him. They had streaked the upper part of their bodies with colored clay,
and had dressed themselves in their finest ceremonial attire. Each
warrior carried his coup-stick with its complement of fluttering eagle
feathers so that all who saw him might instantly recognize him as a man
of courage and valor. The two companies of fighting men stopped a short
distance apart while Curly Horse and Laughing Bird addressed them. The
former welcomed the Uncapapa war chief and his escort and invited the
Uncapapas to make their camp beside his village. Laughing Bird accepted
the invitation with proper courtesy, and immediately dispatched a
courier to bring his people, who were waiting far out on the plain.
Then, after all the warriors had greeted one another and exchanged the
customary compliments, the entire company cantered toward the
Minneconjoux camp.
"Now you will hear some good words," said Sun Bird, as he and White
Otter hurried to join the warriors who had assembled before the council
lodge to receive the visitors.
Laughing Bird and his warriors received a royal welcome from the
Minneconjoux. Much time was consumed in making speeches and exchanging
greetings, but White Otter gave little attention to the talk. He was
more interested in studying these distant tribesmen whom he had never
seen. He saw that the Uncapapa chief was a young man, tall and wiry,
with an alert, fearless face which was somewhat disfigured by a great
scar extending entirely across the left cheek from ear to chin. The
young Ogalala believed that it was the record of some thrilling combat,
and he hoped to hear the story. The warriors who accompanied Laughing
Bird were superb specimens of manhood. They were slighter and
considerably taller than the Minneconjoux, but they had the Dacotah
characteristics, and White Otter would have recognized them as his
people even before they spoke.
However, White Otter's attention was suddenly diverted by the shouts of
some boys at the edge of the camp. "The Uncapapas are coming! The
Uncapapas are coming!" they cried excitedly. Rushing to the border of
the village, the Minneconjoux saw a great company of people advancing
slowly across the plain. It was an impressive spectacle. In front were
the warriors, each leading one or more ponies besides the animal he
rode. Behind them came the slower pack animals, carrying the women and
children and dragging the lodge poles, to which was lashed the property
of the owners. Then followed the herd of unburdened animals in charge of
a noisy company of youths and boys. The interesting cavalcade was
flanked on all sides by stray companies of dogs of various sizes and
colors, many of the larger animals dragging small loads behind them like
the ponies.
Curly Horse sent a delegation of warriors to meet and welcome the
Uncapapas, while Laughing Bird and his escort galloped along the stream
to find a suitable camp-site. They selected a spot some distance below
the Minneconjoux village, and a few minutes afterward it was the scene
of bustling activity. The women soon had the horses unpacked and the
lodge poles in place, and then the great buffalo-hide covers, each
composed of from fifteen to twenty skins of the bull buffalo, were
wrapped about the frame and the shelter was completed. In the meantime
the older women and the children were searching through the timber for
fuel, while the warriors walked about giving orders to the boys who were
busy picketing the riding ponies, and stretching rawhide lariats
between the trees to form a temporary corral for the pack animals. In
spite of these various activities, however, there was little confusion,
and by the time the evening shadows settled upon the plain the great
Uncapapa camp was entirely in order.
At nightfall the Minneconjoux and the Uncapapas began to exchange
visits, and as both camps vied with each other in the number and
bounteousness of their feasts, the people had little chance to rest. In
the meantime the Buffalo Dance drew fresh recruits from the Uncapapas,
and the entire night was passed in ceremony and celebration. Dawn was
already breaking in the east as Sun Bird and White Otter finally stole
away to Rain Crow's lodge for a few winks of sleep.
The following day the scouts again rode away to watch on the ridges, and
Rain Crow took the sacred pipe and went out on the plain to pray to the
Great Mystery. The Buffalo Dance, too, was continued with undiminished
enthusiasm. However, as but few were able to participate in the ceremony
at one time, the majority of the people occupied themselves with less
serious affairs. The people from the two camps mingled together with
less evidence of reserve, and more jolly comradeship than on the
previous day. The warriors met to trade ponies and boast of their
exploits; the old men sat in the shade and recalled the days that had
gone; the women gossiped and compared their handiwork; and the boys met
on the plain to play their games. Thus the morning passed, and at midday
criers went through the camps announcing the sports that had been
arranged to while away the time until the buffaloes appeared. The
announcement was received with shouts of enthusiasm, for there was keen
rivalry between the tribes and each was eager for an opportunity to
prove the superiority of its champions.
The sports began soon afterward, and were so hotly contested that the
results were always in doubt until the last moment of the contest. There
were foot races, and jumping contests, and games of shinny and ball, and
pony races, and various competitions for the women and girls; but
neither tribe was able to secure much of an advantage, and when these
sports were finally ended the total scores were exactly even. Then came
the final, and perhaps the most popular event of the day, which was
known as the Arrow Game.
When White Otter heard it announced his heart began to beat excitedly.
It was a favorite game of his people, and one at which he excelled. He
had been forced to practice it from the time he received his first small
bow and blunt wooden arrows. Now there were none in his tribe who could
equal his skill, and the Ogalalas proudly acknowledged him as their
champion. Therefore, as he realized that the result of this contest
would give the day's victory to the tribe of the winner, he determined
to enter the event on the side of the Minneconjoux.
Two teams were soon selected, and the rival contestants marched solemnly
to the spot which had been set apart for the event. Sun Bird as well as
White Otter had secured a place on the Minneconjoux team. The object of
the contest was to see who could shoot the most arrows into the air
before the first one reached the ground. It was a sport which demanded
agility as well as skill, and only the most expert took part.
When the rival teams reached the meeting place they formed in two lines
some distance apart. Then Curly Horse and Laughing Bird walked between
them urging the warriors of their respective tribes to do their utmost
to win the victory for their people. The words of the Minneconjoux war
chief filled White Otter with enthusiasm. Having already won the
championship of his own tribe, he was anxious to establish his title
among the other tribes of the great Dacotah nation. Besides, he was
equally eager to crown the strenuous efforts of the Minneconjoux with
final victory. Therefore, as he strung his bow and took his place beside
Sun Bird, he raised his eyes to the sky and offered a silent petition to
the Great Mystery to aid him in securing the coveted victory.
The first warrior to try his skill was an Uncapapa, who succeeded in
discharging six arrows before the first returned to earth. He was
followed by the warrior at the head of the Minneconjoux line, who
fumbled at the fourth arrow and scored only five. The next Uncapapa, a
great, powerful fellow of striking appearance, sent eight arrows into
the air and caused enthusiastic rejoicing among his tribesmen. The
Minneconjoux who was his rival scored six. The following Uncapapa was so
anxious to surpass his comrade that he splintered his bow and eliminated
himself from the contest. Then a Minneconjoux named Little Rabbit
succeeded in tying the score with eight arrows in the air at once, and
his people went wild with joy. Their delight was short-lived, however,
for a few moments afterward an Uncapapa discharged nine arrows in the
allotted time.
"That is a great thing to do," Sun Bird told White Otter, with apparent
uneasiness.
White Otter made no reply. He was at the very end of the Minneconjoux
line, and he began to realize that perhaps the final result might depend
upon him. The thought startled him. He watched each contestant with
intense interest. More than half of the warriors on each side had
already made their attempts and the honors still rested with the
Uncapapas.
Then a Minneconjoux shot ten arrows from his bow before the first one
struck the ground. The feat threw the entire assemblage into a frenzy
of excitement, friend and rival alike yelling approval of his skill. It
seemed that victory was about to fall to the Minneconjoux, and Curly
Horse and his warriors made no attempt to conceal their delight. Their
hopes were rudely shattered, however, when an Uncapapa duplicated the
remarkable achievement. Once again the score was tied. As only four
remained to try for each side, it looked as if the all-day struggle
between the tribes was doomed to end in a deadlock.
White Otter awaited his turn with feverish impatience. If the other
contestants failed to better the score he believed that he might still
win for the Minneconjoux, for on two occasions he had surpassed the
score of the Uncapapa. Both times he had succeeded in having eleven
arrows in the air at one time. However, the young Ogalala knew that such
a record was not easily duplicated. The slightest mishap would ruin his
chances. He dared not hope.
A few moments later an Uncapapa sent eleven arrows into the air in the
specified interval of time. The people were now beside themselves with
excitement. The Uncapapas were yelling and waving their robes in a
delirium of joy, while the crestfallen Minneconjoux were calling upon
all sorts of mysterious powers to save them from defeat. But three more
contestants remained to try for victory, Sun Bird and White Otter on the
Minneconjoux side, and one Uncapapa.
Sun Bird felt the responsibility that was resting upon him, but he knew
that he was powerless to save his people from defeat. He had never done
better than eight arrows in the air at once. He determined to make a
supreme effort, however, and succeeded so well that he actually bettered
his record and scored nine. The Minneconjoux accepted his gallant
attempt with a murmur of approval, but their hearts were filled with
gloom.
The remaining Uncapapa scored only six, but his people were well
satisfied with his indifferent performance, as they were now sure of
their victory.
Then White Otter prepared to make his attempt. He was the target for
every eye in the great assemblage as he stepped out to make the final
effort for the Minneconjoux. The young Ogalala appeared calm and
confident, but his heart was beating furiously and his blood raced
through his veins. He knew that to save the Minneconjoux from defeat he
must duplicate his best performance, and under the circumstances the
odds all seemed against him. For a moment he lost confidence. Then he
heard a mocking laugh over among the Uncapapas, and it drove the hot
fighting blood to his brain. His eyes flashed a challenge along the line
of Uncapapa warriors, and he slowly drew twelve arrows from his quiver
and held them in his left hand. There was something in his manner that
commanded respect, and the Uncapapas began to ask one another his name.
They saw that this cool young warrior intended to make a determined
effort to steal their victory, and the idea caused them considerable
uneasiness.
"My brother, if you do this thing my people will make you a great man,"
Sun Bird said, in a voice trembling with eagerness.
White Otter remained silent. He had tested his bow, and was ready to fit
the first arrow. Then as an expectant hush settled upon the throng of
tense spectators, the lad raised his face toward the sky and stood a
few moments with closed eyes, while he asked the aid of the Great
Mystery. When he had ended his simple appeal, he crouched and raised his
bow in his left hand, while he tightened the bow-string until the point
of the arrow was almost even with the weapon. He held it an instant, and
then he sent it whizzing toward the sky. As it soared upward his agile
hands worked with a speed that actually baffled the onlookers, and
caused them to cry out in admiration of his skill. The humming arrows
sped from his bow in such rapid succession that it was difficult to
count them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten,
Eleven--TWELVE! soared into space before the first one returned to the
ground. Then, flushed with the pride of victory, the young champion
straightened and smiled triumphantly into the eyes of his friend.
Having turned what seemed like sure defeat into a glorious victory,
White Otter found himself a hero among the Minneconjoux. Curly Horse was
the first to greet him.
"My son, you have done a great thing," said the Minneconjoux chief. "You
have filled the hearts of my people with the song of victory. It has
been a great day, but you have done the best thing. Yes, we will have
something to tell about when people come to our lodges."
Even the vanquished Uncapapas crowded eagerly forward to praise the
young tribesman who had defeated them. The sting of their unexpected
downfall was relieved by the pride they got from assuring themselves
that none but a Dacotah could have performed such an exploit.
"My young brother, you have done the best of all. You are as quick as
the panther, and as steady as the rock. You have done a good thing for
our brothers, the Minneconjoux. But I will tell you that our hearts are
glad about it. Yes, you are a Dacotah. It is enough. We will talk about
you at the council fire," said the famous Uncapapa war chief.
Sun Bird kept his praise until they reached the seclusion of Rain Crow's
lodge. Then he seized White Otter's hand and spoke with great feeling.
"My brother, you have done a great thing. You have heard many good
words. What you have done makes me feel like a great chief. When I
think about it my heart is very big. I cannot say any more. But you know
how my heart is toward you," said Sun Bird.
"Yes, I have heard many good words," replied White Otter. "But I will
tell you that the words of Sun Bird, my brother, are the sweetest to my
ears."