Prairie Smoke, a Collection of Lore of the Prairies

The following hymn of thanks for the corn shows something of the religious feeling of the Pawnee and their gratitude to Providence for the gift of corn.

A HYMN OF THANKS TO MOTHER CORN

THE FORGOTTEN EAR OF CORN

HOW THE USEFULNESS OF WILD RICE WAS DISCOVERED

He was gone many days and nights, wandering through the forest and beside streams and lakes. He subsisted upon such fruits, seeds, roots and tubers as he was able to find, and upon the flesh of animals he was able to shoot with his bow and arrow which he had brought with him. One day he came to a lake in which was growing a great quantity of beautiful, feathery wild rice, swaying over the water in the gentle breeze. From the bark of a birch tree he fashioned a canoe in which he rowed out upon the lake and gathered a quantity of the wild rice. He did not know the wild rice was useful for food, for he had never seen it before, but he admired its beauty. He took the wild rice which he had gathered to his grandmother. He told her of the beautiful plant which he had found in the lake and that he had brought to her some of the seed of the plant. This seed they sowed in another lake near the place where he lived with his grandmother, for he hoped to have the beautiful plant growing where he might often enjoy its beauty.

Again he went away into the forest so that he might become accustomed to endure hardships and also that he might learn wisdom from the living creatures, not only from the moving creatures, but also from those other living creatures, the plants of all kinds. While walking he thought he heard a voice saying, “Sometimes they eat us.” He stopped and listened and again he heard the words “Sometimes they eat us.” This time he perceived that the words came from some bushes near which he was passing. Finally he spoke, saying, “To whom are you talking?” He was told that he was the one to whom the bush was speaking, so he dug up the plant and found that it had a long root. He tasted the root and it was pleasant to the taste, so he dug more, and ate a great many, so many that he was made ill. He was too ill to travel, so he lay there three days. Finally he was able to rise and move on, but he was hungry and weak. As he passed along other plants spoke to him, but he was now afraid to eat of them. Then, as he was walking along a stream he saw some bunches of grass growing up out of the water which beckoned to him and said, “Sometimes they eat us.” He was so hungry, and the graceful grass was so tempting, that he was constrained to gather some seeds of it and eat. The taste was pleasing, and its effect upon his hunger was so gratifying that he said, “O, you are indeed good! What are you called?” The Grass replied, “We are called manomin,” which is the name which the Chippewa people call this plant. Wenibozho waded out into the water and gathered the grains by handfuls and ate it, and so continued till his hunger was fully satisfied. From eating the manomin he suffered no ill effects whatever, but was strengthened wonderfully. Finally he remembered the grain which he had discovered on his former journey and which he and his grandmother, Nokomis, had sown in the lake near their home. When he returned and found it growing and compared it with this grain which he had now found to be so good, he perceived that it was the same sort. So he found that this beautiful grass which he had growing in the lake near home was really manomin, as pleasant to the taste and as satisfying to hunger as it was beautiful to the eyes. Ever since that time the Chippewas have known how to value the good gift of manomin.

A STORY OF THE SUNFLOWER

Once on a time, long ago, a company of men were going upon a war expedition. And now as they were within the country of the enemy they were proceeding very cautiously. One morning very early they heard what seemed to be the sound of someone singing in a tremulous voice, coming from the direction toward which they were marching. They stopped and stood still to listen.

As they stood thus listening it seemed to them that the singer, whoever he might be, must be a clown, for he was singing a clown song. There was not light enough to see the singer. But they waited silently and anxiously peering ahead in the direction from which came the sound of the singing. At the first glimmer of the dawn light they were able to make out the appearance of a man walking with an awkward shuffling gait. His robe was ragged and his leggings drooped down slouchingly in wrinkles about his ankles as he walked. He had great circles about his eyes painted a bright yellow and he was singing a clown song in a husky wheezy voice.

So they stood in wonder regarding the clown who was coming toward them. He was coming toward the sun rising and as the daylight grew brighter they were astonished to see the man suddenly changed to a sunflower.

And ever since that time, it is said, the sunflower is inclined to face toward the sun.

DAKOTA FOLKLORE OF THE SPIDERWORT

Stories of the Four-Footed People

THE FAITHFUL DOG

The men and dogs charged upon the herd and soon the great mass of shaggy beasts were forced out upon the treacherous ice where they were struggling in great confusion. Many were killed before the herd finally reached the shore of the lake and scrambled up the steep bank and fled away over the plain.

The sun was already past the middle of the sky and the hunters were busy with the work of skinning the carcasses and dressing the beef, making ready to carry back to camp their prize of meat, hides, and other useful products, when suddenly they saw and felt a great change in the sky and in the air. The threatening signs were evident of the swift approach of a blizzard, the dreadful and terrific winter storm of fierce, roaring wind and driving snow and frightful cold which frequently sweeps over the northern plains.

The hunters made haste to reach camp which had been made in the shelter of the woods not far away. Here a certain number had been detailed by the officers to make camp and to gather firewood, while the others had been taking care of the meat. Now as the fearful storm threatened, they gathered in the camp bringing in what they could carry of the meat supply. Soon the hunters were refreshing themselves with freshly broiled steaks which were much relished by the hungry men, who had eaten nothing since the early morning just before they had broken camp. The dogs too were given their share.

The storm was now upon them in its fury; and all about was a smothering, dizzying swirl of whiteness as impenetrable as the blackness of night. The gale of wind roared unceasingly; the myriad millions of tiny snow particles ground upon each other in the swirl of the storm, each infinitesimal impact adding to the aggregate of reverberation of sound, while the skin tents hummed like enormous drums.

From time to time those who were already in camp shouted to guide the later comers who gave answering shouts and came one after another staggering into camp exhausted by the buffeting of the storm. At last only one was missing. The herd scout, who had found and reported the herd the day before; he and his faithful dog had not yet come in. The fury of the storm throughout the night and the next day prevented the possibility of going to look for the missing man.

Toward morning following the second night of the storm its fury abated. As is usual, at the end of a blizzard, it was followed by an extraordinary calm. The drifted plain lay as still and white as marble. The stars glistened coldly like ice crystals in the sky. The air was so clear that the least sound made by any moving creature was magnified in the stillness.

The hunting camp awoke. Suddenly the game call of the great gray wolf was heard. And soon the hunters saw a great number of these gaunt gray creatures out upon the ice of the lake and on the plain, digging out the white mounds which were the snowdrifts about the carcasses of the buffaloes which the hunters had been obliged to leave when the storm came upon them.

And now among the wolf cries another sound was heard,—the defiant barking of a dog! It was the scout’s dog. The men hurried toward the slaughter field to kill or drive away the wolves. Some wolves were dragging away a buffalo carcass, and from among the snarling howling pack about this carcass the hunters could distinctly hear the hoarse barking of their missing friend’s dog, and occasionally they could hear a strangely muffled shout of a man sounding as though it came from under the ice.

The hunters finally reached the place to which the carcass had been dragged by the wolves. As the men came near the wolves ran away and the men saw the dog standing by the carcass for a moment before he fell dead as they reached the place. The men with their knives cut open the abdominal cavity of the carcass and found the missing scout inside wrapped in his robe in a bed of grass and buffalo hair.

When the storm had come upon him at his work he had seen that he could not reach the camp so he had opened two of the carcasses and removed the internal organs. In one he had made a bed for his dog, and in the other for himself for protection from the fury of the storm. The dog had kept an opening to his shelter, but the man had closed the entrance of his own after he was in, and the hide had frozen solid, making him a prisoner. When the wolves came the dog was able to free himself and tried to defend his imprisoned master, regardless of his own safety. He had been mortally wounded before the hunters could save him.

As soon as the scout was released he inquired for the dog, his friend and defender. When he saw that his loyal friend was dead, having given up his life in defense of his master, the scout was deeply moved with grief. He knelt down and stroked the head of the dead dog, and said, “Ah, my friend; you were courageous and faithful unto death. And you died like a brave warrior. You shall have the funeral of a dead warrior.”

So with all due ceremony the scout carried the body of the dog to the top of a hill overlooking the lake where he had given up his life in doing his duty. There the scout laid the body. Over it he built up a tomb of boulders which he gathered from the hills. Then he laid upon it offerings of red paint and of food according to the funeral custom of his people, and they sang the farewell song for the dead.

Ever since that time this hill has been known to the Dakotas as the Grave of the Dog.

HOW COYOTE CHIEF WAS PUNISHED

But Coyote Chief had nothing with which to skin the buffalo and cut up and prepare the meat. So he walked along a little way and came to a small clump of timber. As he approached the timber he called out, “Brothers, give me a knife.” And they gave him a knife. Then he went on to another clump of timber. Here he called out, “Brothers, give me an earthen pot.” And they gave him an earthen pot. He went on again to another clump of timber, where he called out, “Brothers, give me a horn spoon.” And they gave him a horn spoon.

Then Coyote Chief went back to the place where the buffalo had fallen, and there he built a hunter’s lodge of leafy branches of trees. Then he skinned the buffalo and pegged out the skin upon the ground and scraped it. Next he cut up the meat, and some of it he cut into strips and hung it up to dry.

Coyote Chief had Fox for a servant, to run errands and to work about the house. And he treated Fox badly and did not give him enough to eat. Fox was hungry, as usual, and tried to help himself to some of the buffalo meat, but Coyote Chief saw him and was angry. He seized a brand from the fire and thrust it into Fox’s face, burning him thereby. Fox was hurt so badly that he decided to run away, but he wished first to be revenged upon Coyote Chief. So he went around to all the other animals and told them how badly he had been used by Coyote Chief. The animals were sorry for him and seemed willing to help him to punish Coyote Chief. So they held a meeting and talked over the matter to decide upon the best way to do this. The decision of the council was that they should all go over to his house that night and eat up all his meat while he was asleep.

Coyote Chief had worked hard all day to take care of his meat, and had not taken time to eat much. Being tired after his day’s work he went to bed early. But he was anxious lest some one might come and take his meat while he slept, so before going to sleep he said, “Now my members, you must watch for me while I sleep. My eyes, if anyone peeps in you must stare hard at him. My ears, if you hear a sound, you must wiggle. My arms, if anyone comes in you must thrash around. My legs, if any one comes near, you must kick.” Then he went to sleep.

That night all the animals gathered at Coyote Chief’s house, but they were afraid to touch anything till they were sure he was sound asleep. So they sent Magpie first to peep in at the door. Magpie went and peeped in and saw Coyote Chief’s eyes staring hard at him, and he went back and said, “He is not asleep, for his eyes stared at me.”

After a time Crow was sent to find if Coyote Chief was not asleep. Crow flew up and perched by the smoke-hole. When he looked in Coyote Chief’s ears began to wiggle. Crow went back and told the animals that Coyote Chief could not be asleep, for as soon as he looked in Coyote Chief’s ears began to wiggle.

A little later Jack Rabbit was sent to look. Jack Rabbit pushed in a little at the door, and Coyote Chief’s arms began to move up and down. So Jack Rabbit went back and reported that Coyote Chief must still be awake.

The animals again waited, and then sent Fox. Fox went inside, and then Coyote Chief’s legs began to kick, so he ran out and told the others that Coyote Chief was still awake.

Now, after waiting quite a long time, the animals sent Mouse. Mouse went in and saw that Coyote Chief seemed to be sound asleep. He went up and ran over his legs and there was no motion; then he ran over his chest and still Coyote Chief was not disturbed. At last he ran over his face, and Coyote Chief did not stir. So Mouse went and told the others that Coyote Chief was surely asleep. Then they came in and ate up all the meat except a few scraps which dropped while they were eating. When they had finished eating they went away without having wakened Coyote Chief.

The next morning when Coyote Chief awoke, he was very hungry because he had eaten little the day before, and had worked hard; but he found his meat was all gone, and he said to himself, “Oh, why did I not eat the meat yesterday instead of waiting!” Then, because he was so hungry, he searched about on the ground and found some scraps of meat and some small bits of fat. All these he gathered up on a robe. He put fresh wood upon the fire, and then sat down by the fireplace with the robe over his knees to eat the little he had. But just then a spark shot out from the fire and lighted on his hand, which hurt him so that he jumped up suddenly, spilling into the fire all the shreds of meat and fat which he had so carefully gathered.

So Coyote Chief got none of his meat, and was punished for the bad way he had treated Fox.

THE SKUNK AND THE BEAR

THE SONG OF THE OLD WOLF

There is a story told among the people of the Dakota nation that once on a time an old man went out, to be alone upon a high hill above the Missouri River to give himself to meditation and prayer. He chose this situation because of the grandeur and majesty of the view, of the great sweep of the prairie plains and hills, one hill beyond another away and away to the far horizon. Below flowed the wonderful and mysterious river, whose waters came down from the mighty mountains at the west and rolled on and on past the villages of many different nations, finally reaching the great salt water.

As the old man thus sat meditating and considering all the manifestations of life and power and mystery of earth and sky, he espied out upon the prairie a group of wolves trotting toward the river. When they reached the river they plunged in and swam across to the other side; all but one old one who was now too enfeebled by age to dare try his strength against the swift and powerful current of the river.

This old wolf sat down upon the bank of the river and watched his companions as they swam across and trotted away out of sight on the other side. When they had disappeared from sight he raised his muzzle towards the sky and mournfully sang in a man’s voice the following song:

After the old wolf had sung this song he wearily made his way to the top of a hill and lay down in the warm sunshine, in the shelter of a rock and there waited until his spirit went away.

And so now, when old men of the Dakota nation feel the infirmities of age creeping upon them, and as though they had been left behind in life’s march, when they feel the depression of loneliness, will often go out alone to the summit of some high hill overlooking the Missouri River, and sitting there in solitude will muse upon their activities and noteworthy deeds in the past, of their companions of former days now long gone from them, and contrast all this with their present inactivity and loneliness. Then they will sadly and quaveringly sing this “Song of the Old Wolf.”

Note.—The English translation and rendering into verse is the work of Dr. A. McG. Beede, of Fort Yates, North Dakota. The original song in the Dakota language is as follows:

Stories of the People of the Air

FOLK SAYINGS ABOUT THE MEADOWLARK

The meadowlark is a great favourite with the people of the Dakota nation. An old man of that nation was asked if his people ever used the meadowlark for food. He said they did not. When it was said that white men sometimes eat them, he said he knew that. Then, when asked why Dakotas would not eat the meadowlark, he said, “We think too much of them. They are our friends.” They call the meadowlark “the bird of promise,” and “the bird of many gifts,” for they say it promises good things to its friends, the Dakotas. They apply words of the Dakota language to the songs of the bird. They say it calls to the people with promises and with words of encouragement and good cheer, and that it gives counsel and advice on all manner of subjects. One of the things which it used to sing out to the people was “Koda, pte kizhozho,” i. e., “Friends, I whistle for the buffalo,” that is to say, it would whistle to call the buffalo in order that its friends, the Dakotas, might supply their needs of meat and clothing.

A touch of Dakota humour is shown in one saying attributed to the meadowlark’s notes in these later times since the government has established schools on the reservations to teach the Dakota children in the ways of the white men. They say that ofter now the meadowlark is to be seen flitting about the school grounds and singing, “One, two, three, epedo! One, two, three, epedo!” The Dakota word epedo means “You shall say.”

The white people speak of the United States government as “Uncle Sam,” but the people of the Dakota nation call the government “Tunkashila,” which means “Grandfather,” a title of the highest respect. In the summer of 1918, while the United States was at war with Germany, many of the Dakotas said they heard “the bird of promise” singing “Tunkashila ohiyelo!” The Dakota word “ohiyelo” means “will be victorious” or “will have the victory;” so the meadowlark, “the bird of promise,” was singing to them “The United States will have the victory!”

HOW THE MEADOWLARK WON THE RACE

Now when the monster stole his wife away he came to his grandmother to ask her to help him recover his wife. Before he came to her his grandmother knew he was in trouble, so when he came he found her waiting for him. She said “I will prepare you for this quest; but first bring to me a wolf, a turtle and a meadowlark.” Then she brought him food; and after he had eaten and rested he set out to find the wolf, the turtle and the meadowlark. As he journeyed he found all of them, one after another, and invited them to eat with him. Then he told of his grandmother’s wish to have them to aid him in his quest. They each consented to help him provided the old woman would give him the thing most desired. The wolf said he wished to have a better fur coat so that the cold breath of old Waziya, the Old Man Winter, would not chill him. The turtle said, “Insects bite me, but I will help you if I shall be given protection from insects which suck my blood.” The meadowlark said “My voice is harsh and I can sing but one note and the magpie laughs at me. I will help you if I may be given a pleasing voice so that I can make the magpie ashamed.” So the young man Piya, the wizard, together with his three friends, the wolf, the turtle and the meadowlark came back to the tipi of his grandmother.

She was waiting and expecting him, and said, “Grandson I knew you would come and bring with you those whom I want.” She invited them into her tipi and prepared food and set it before them. The next morning Piya told his grandmother that these friends he had brought had promised to help him if they should each be given what he most desired. Then she told them if they would help her grandson she would give each one what he most wished. So they were all agreed. She told the wolf she wished him to give her grandson the cunning by which he could follow a hidden trail and find hidden things; she asked the turtle to give him the sense by which he could locate water, so that he should be able to avoid perishing of thirst in a desert land; and the lark was to give him power to hide himself without covering in the open prairie. In return for these gifts the wolf was to have for himself and all his people warm fur clothing so that they could laugh at Waziya when he would blow his cold breath upon them. The turtle was promised that he should have the hard tough covering which he asked, so that insects could not bite him. The meadowlark was given a pleasing voice so that his songs would make the magpie ashamed.

After the agreement was made the Old Woman told them that the quest on which they had to go would take them into a country where there would be no trees, nor much grass nor open trail, and but little water in the hidden springs.

So the wizard, Piya, and his companions, the wolf, the turtle and the meadowlark set out upon the quest after the Old Woman had instructed them. The wolf taught him how to find hidden trails; the meadowlark taught him how to be hidden without covering, and the turtle taught him how to find hidden watersprings.

So the help of these friends, together with the powers he already possessed, enabled Piya finally to discover where his wife was hidden by the monster, and to rescue her.

So they all came back to the tipi of the Old Woman. They all rejoiced; the young woman because she had been rescued from the power of the monster; the young man Piya because he had found his wife; and the wolf, the turtle and the meadowlark because they were to have the gifts which they had most desired. The Old Woman prepared a feast and they feasted until far into the night.

Next morning the Old Woman gave to the wolf, the turtle and the meadowlark each the gift for which he had asked as a reward for helping the young man, and they set out together on the trail to return to their homes. As they journeyed they talked about the gifts which they had received. As they talked they fell into argument, each claiming that his gift was the best, and soon they were quarreling and were about to fight. But just then a young man came along the trail and he asked them why they were quarreling. They told him. He said that quarreling was foolish and would decide nothing, but that the only way to determine whose gift was the best was to find out which would help most in a trial of skill. The wolf proposed a trial in hunting, but the meadowlark and the turtle said they could not hunt. The turtle proposed a swimming contest, but the wolf and the meadowlark said they could not swim. Then the meadowlark in his turn proposed a contest in singing, for he was very proud of his gift, but the wolf and the turtle protested that they could not sing.

The young man suggested that they run a race. To this they all agreed. The young man told them they must run past a plum thicket, across a marsh and up to the top of a certain hill. There they would find white clay and colored clay. The winner of the race would be the one that first brought back to him some of the white clay. They set out upon the race. The wolf and turtle were running side by side; but the meadowlark fell far behind.

When he came near the plum thicket he saw a bundle laid up in the forks of a plum bush. He paused and sniffed toward it and the scent of it was strange to him, and he became curious about it, and wanted to find out what was in the bundle. He asked the turtle to wait. The turtle said he would wait for him at the marsh. The wolf walked all round the bush and looked carefully at the bundle. Then he rose up against the bush and sniffed at the bundle, but still he could not make out what was in it. He could not quite reach the bundle, so he leaped to try to pull it down. But as he did so the thorns pricked him. He jumped again and missed the bundle, but was pricked again by the thorns. Now he became angry and determined he would get the bundle. After jumping many times and being always pricked by the thorns so that he had many wounds on his sides and back he finally pulled down the bundle. He was so angry that in his vexation he energetically shook it about so that it was shaken open and its contents smeared his wounds. This made his wounds itch so severely that he had to scratch himself, but this made him itch the more. He was in such torment that he scratched madly and tore his fur coat and was bleeding, so he forgot the race.

The turtle ran on to the marsh and waited there as he had promised. After he had waited a long time he concluded the wolf had deceived him and had gone on to the hill. Then he saw a small white puffball. It looked like a lump of white clay, so the thought came to him that he could deceive the young man with it and get even with the wolf for the trick he supposed the wolf had played upon him. So he took the puffball back and showed it to the young man. Neither the meadowlark nor the wolf had returned yet, so the young man told the turtle he was the first to return bringing something to show that he had been to the top of the hill.

Now when the meadowlark ran by the plum thicket he saw the wolf jumping about one of the bushes trying to reach something which was there, so the meadowlark was encouraged to think he might still have some chance in the race. He ran on to the marsh, and there he saw the turtle waiting, so he was still more encouraged. He then ran on all the way to the top of the hill. He was so anxious and flustered when he reached there that instead of the white clay which the young man had specified as the token of having been to the goal, he made a mistake and picked up a lump of the yellow clay and turned to carry it back to the young man. As he was crossing back over the marsh again he stumbled and dropped the lump of clay into the black mud. He picked it up and hurried on, not stopping to clean off the black mud. When he came near to the young man he saw the turtle sitting there and smiling and looking very satisfied. The meadowlark then thought he had lost the race. He was so disappointed and discouraged that he wept. His tears washed the black mud off from the lump of clay and made a black stripe, while the yellow clay itself was washed down over the whole front of his clothes.

At last the wolf came back scratching and howling in his misery. Great patches of fur were torn from his clothes and his skin was raw and sore. The turtle taunted the wolf for his crying. He swaggered about and boasted that nothing could make him whimper and cry. The young man said that the turtle was the first to return, but that he must make good his boast that nothing could make him whimper if he should lose. The turtle declared that he would prove all he said in any way the young man should require. The young man then placed the puffball upon the turtle’s back. The puffball very quickly increased in size and weight so that it was all the turtle could bear. It continued to increase in size until the turtle was borne down by it to the ground and his legs were bent. Still the puffball continued to grow until the turtle’s body was pressed flat by it, and his breath was pressed out of his body and he lay as if he were dead. Then the puffball became as light as a feather and turned black. The turtle recovered his breath a little, but he was unable to straighten his legs or to regain the form of his body, so he was ashamed and drew in his head under his thick skin.

Then the young man laughed loud and long at the plight of the wolf, the turtle and the meadowlark, and told them now who he really was. He told them that he was Iktomi, the Trickster. He told them that because they had foolishly quarreled about the good gifts which the Old Woman had given to them, instead of making good use of them, they had given him the opportunity to play this trick upon them, the marks of which would be upon them, and upon their people forever. He said that because the wolf had meddled with something which was none of his affair he had brought upon himself the torments of the mange, and so it would always be with his people whenever they should do as he had done. He said that because the turtle had attempted to win by cheating, his legs and the legs of all his people should always be short and bent and their bodies should be flattened, so they could never run in a race. And because he had lied in saying the puffball was white clay, therefore he and his people should never again be able to speak, and they should always hide their heads for shame. As for the meadowlark, the young man said he had won the race, but because he had brought back the yellow clay instead of the white, therefore his clothes and the clothes of his people should always be yellow in front and there should be a black stripe over the yellow.

INDIAN FOLKLORE OF THE HORNED LARK

HOW IT CAME ABOUT THAT GEESE MIGRATE

The Teton-Dakota have a story which says that “Long, long time ago” (lila ehanna) the goose nation did not migrate to the south in the autumn, but remained here throughout the winter time. Because of the rigor of the winter most of the people of the goose nation perished so that they were always a small and weak nation. At last one goose had a dream of the south-land, that it was pleasant even in winter, that the winter there was mild and that there was plenty of food there. So she began teaching the other geese that they should practice flying more and thus make their wings strong so they could fly to the south-land before winter time. Some people of the goose nation believed the vision and began to practice flying to make their wings strong for the autumn journey. This caused discussion and dissension in the nation, and a law was made which banished the goose which had the vision. So they drove her out from among them. She practiced flying all summer and made her wings strong so that in the autumn she was able to fly to the pleasant south-land of which she had dreamed. The Mysterious Power which had given her the vision guided her on the long journey and she lived pleasantly through the winter time. After the first thunder in the springtime she flew back north to her nation. As always before, many of them had died during the cold winter-time from the fury of the storms and the scarcity of food. But she told them how pleasantly she had passed the time in the south-land, and they saw in what good health she was, so many more of them now believed her vision and her teaching. It was in this way that the geese learned to fly away to the south-land in the autumn to escape the storms and cold of winter in this land.

THE CAPTIVE BIRD: A TRUE STORY OF CHILDHOOD IN THE OMAHA TRIBE OF NEBRASKA

The boys were employed in looking after the herd of extra horses; some of the women were with the train of pack animals looking after the baggage and camp equipment, others were scattered over the prairie along the line of march, carrying digging sticks and bags to gather tipsin roots for food.

Groups of small children, too small to have any particular tasks assigned to them were playing along the way, observing the ways of beast and bird and of insects, and admiring the brilliant wild flowers. One such group found a fledgling meadowlark, not yet able to fly. They captured it and brought it along with them when the band went into camp for the night. As the families sat about their tents waiting the preparation of the evening meal, the children showed their father the captive bird and told him how they caught it. He listened to their account and then told them something of the life and habits of the bird, its nesting and home life, of its love of life and freedom, and of its place in the world under the wise plans of the Master of Life. He brought the children to see the unhappiness and the terror which they had unwittingly brought upon the captive and the anxiety the mother bird would feel over its loss.

Then he said to them, “Now children, take the little bird back to the place where you found it and set it down in the grass, and say ‘O Master of Life, here is thy little bird which we have set free again. We are sorry that we took it away from its home and its people. We did not think of the sorrow we should cause. We wish to restore it and have it happy again with its people. May we be forgiven for our thoughtlessness and we will not do such wrong again.’”

The children carried out their father’s instructions and placed the little bird again as near as they could to the place where they had captured it and recited the prayer to the Master of Life which their father had admonished them to say. As they returned to the camp the quiet of the summer evening lay over all the land, the after-glow of the sunset was in the western sky, the white tents stood in a great circle upon the prairie, now dusky-green in the twilight which lay upon the land, a twinkling camp-fire before each tent. The children were thoughtful. They had had a glimpse of the unity of the universe. They never forgot the lesson. Years passed, great changes came. The white people were coming into the land. Old activities and industries of the Indians were destroyed by the changes. The children of that little group went away from their people to attend the white men’s schools, to learn the white men’s ways and adapt themselves to those ways. But this did not cause them to forget altogether the wisdom and grace of their parental teaching. Long afterward they told this little story to the writer, who now gives it to you, reader, and wishes that you, also may know that there be those in all lands and among all peoples who “do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.”

THE CHICKADEE

The chickadee is a very popular bird among all the Indian tribes where it is known. They all have many stories and sayings about it. They say of it that, though small, it is a very wise bird. It is like the wise men, the doctors and teachers among the people, who are learned in mysteries and the wonderful things of nature, who keep a calendar of the cycle of the days, months and seasons through the year by cutting marks upon a piece of wood which they have prepared for that purpose.

This wise little bird is said also to keep account of the months. It is said that “in the beginning” the task of keeping account of the months was assigned to the chickadee. But instead of making notches in a piece of wood as the wise men do this wise bird’s method is to make notches in its tongue; thus in September its tongue is single-pointed, in October it has two points, in November three, and so on until February, when it is said that its tongue has six points. Then in March its tongue is again single-pointed and the count is begun again. So, it is said, the chickadee has been keeping the count of the months since the long ago, in the dim past, when the task was assigned to it in the time of beginnings, in the time when evil powers and monsters struggled mightily to overcome the good, and to destroy mankind by sending fierce storms and heavy snowfalls and shuddering cold winds upon the face of the earth. It was thus the evil powers sought to discourage and to overcome mankind.

And so it is said that at one time the evil powers supposed that by stress of a long siege of cold and storms they had reduced mankind to famine. At this time they chose to send the chickadee as a messenger to find out the conditions and to bring back word to them.

Now when the chickadee came on his mission and appeared at the dwellings of men he was invited to enter. He was courteously given a place by the fireside to rest and warm himself. Then food was brought to him. After he had eaten and refreshed himself he was anointed with fat, which was a symbol of plenty; then he was painted with red paint, which was for a symbol of the power and mystery of life. After these ceremonies and marks of respect his hosts quietly composed themselves to give attention to whatever their visitor should have to say as to the purpose of his visit. When he had stated his mission his hosts held counsel and formulated a reply for the messenger to take back to those who had sent him. He was bidden to say to them that mankind was still living and hopeful, and they ever would be; that they could not be daunted by discouragement, nor defeated by storms and stress, nor vanquished by hunger, nor overcome by any hardships; and that there never would be a time when there should not be men upon the earth. So this is the message which the chickadee brought to the evil powers which had sought to overcome mankind.

THE SONG OF THE WREN

The incident of this story occurred in the long ago in the country of the Pawnee nation, in the broad expanse of the Platte River country in what is now the State of Nebraska. The event was in the distant past before the Pawnees had ever seen a white man, or any of his works or strange devices. The people of the Pawnee nation lived in villages of houses built in the manner that the houses of Pawnees had been built for generations. Near their villages lay their fields of corn and other crops which they cultivated to supply themselves with food.

It was a beautiful morning in early summer. The sky was clear and bright, the dawn-light was showing in the eastern sky. All the landscape lay as though still sleeping. There was no movement anywhere. A thoughtful priest had risen and had walked out upon the prairie away from the village so that he might view and meditate upon the beauty and mystery of the firmament of the heavens and of the plane of earth, and of the living creatures thereon, both animal creatures and plant creatures, for in his mind both were equally wonderful and equally interesting, as showing the power and the wisdom of the Great Mystery. So he walked and pondered upon all the beauty and mystery which lay about him, while the face of Mother Earth was still moist with the dew of sleep. In a moment the first rays of the sun shone across the land touching into sparkling brilliance the myriads of dewdrops, while a gentle movement ran through all the grasses and the wild flowers as they swayed to the rippling of the gentle morning breeze which pulsed over the prairie at the first touch of the morning gleam.

Where a moment before all had been so still and so silent now there was movement and sound. Birds of many kinds raised their tuneful voices, showing their joy in life and in the beauty of the morning. The priest, whose mind and heart were open to all this beauty and melody, stood still and listened. In a moment, among all the other bird-songs, he heard one which was clearer and more remarkable than any of the others. This song was a most joyous cheerful sound, like happy laughter. As he approached he found that the joyous, laughing song came from a very tiny brown bird, no larger than his thumb. It was a wren, so small, so insignificant in comparison to the size and brilliant plumage of many of the other birds, yet it appeared to be the most whole hearted in joy and praise and delight in life, as the sweet stream of music welled from its little throat.

The priest looked at the tiny bird, and wisely considered. He said to himself: “The Great Mystery has shown me here a wise teaching for my people. This bird is small and weak, but it has its proper place in the world of life and it rejoices in it and gives thanks with gladness. Everyone can be happy, for happiness is not from without, but from within, in properly fitting and fulfilling each his own place. The humblest can have a song of thanks in his own heart.”

So he made a song and a story to be sung in a great religious ritual of his people, which was to them like our Bible and prayer-book are to us. And the song and story which that thoughtful priest put into the ritual, was the story of the wren. And ever since that time so long ago, the song has been sung by the Pawnees and has been handed down from generation to generation until this time.

THE WAR EAGLE AND THE JACK-RABBIT

One time a party of men went into a lonely place among the hills far away from the village, to enter their eagle pits for the purpose of catching eagles to obtain their plumes. One of the men had made his pit far out at some distance from any of the others. Another day, as he was coming away from his eagle pit, returning to the village, he stopped and sat down upon the top of a high hill from which he could enjoy a grand view of the landscape. Thus he sat looking about over the quiet hills and valleys, beyond the bright gleam which showed the course of the river winding in and out among the green trees along its borders, far away to the dim sky line. Far away on one side he saw a number of elks feeding; on the other side he saw a band of graceful antelopes. A doe and her fawn were browsing upon some bushes down near the river.

Aloft he saw the white clouds sailing in the bright blue sky; below he saw their shadows moving over the earth, now up a hillside and over its crest and then swiftly across a little valley and up the next hillside. While he sat enjoying the beauty of the scene he observed a war eagle chasing a jack-rabbit. The jack-rabbit continually dodged and circled, trying to escape as the eagle swooped toward him. The eagle had several times swooped and just missed striking the rabbit.

Gradually the chase came near to the place where the man was seated. The eagle was closely pursuing the rabbit and made a tremendous swoop towards him. But the rabbit escaped by leaping into the man’s robe as he sat with it loosely draped about his shoulders and knees.

Then the eagle said “Put that rabbit away from you! He is my prey. I intend to eat him.”

But now the rabbit appealed to the man and said, “I have thrown myself upon your kindness. Do not turn me away. I beg of you. If you save me you shall hereafter have success in your undertakings and you shall become a great man.”

Then the eagle spoke again, saying, “His words are not true. Turn him away. He can do nothing for you. I, myself will make you great if you will do as I request. It is I who speak the truth. My feet are not held to the earth and I can also fly in the air far above the earth. I am successful in all the things I attempt.”

Once more the jack-rabbit made his plea. “Believe him not, and do not turn me away! Even though I must remain upon the ground, and cannot fly like the eagle, still I have knowledge proper to my conditions of life, and I know how to do many things suitably and successfully.”

The man made his decision in favor of the jack-rabbit and saved him from the eagle. And the jack-rabbit kept his promise to the man, for he gave him of his own powers and made him successful in his undertakings and helped him with good and wise counsel in times of trouble and doubt and perplexity. So the man gained great renown and honor and influence among his people.