In singing this song not only do the people award praise and glory to bravery and courage, but the virtue of renunciation shown by the young men also receives its measure of praise. The song has the purpose to inculcate emulation of bravery and also of generosity and unselfishness of spirit.
A people living under natural conditions in communion with nature, will carefully note the appearance of natural objects in their environment. They become acquainted with the various aspects of the landscape and of the living things, plants and animals in their changes through the seasons, in storm and calm, in activity and in repose. Becoming thus intimately acquainted with the life about them the people will come to regard some of the more notable forms with a feeling akin to that which they have towards persons, and hence they come to have place in folk stories, in reasoned discourse and in ceremonies of religion.
Commonly throughout the region of the Missouri River was to be seen the cottonwood, the willows of several species, and the cedar or juniper. The appearance and habits of these trees impressed themselves powerfully upon the mind and imagination of the Indian folk.
The cedar or juniper was wonderful because it was ever green; unlike other trees it appeared indifferent to frost and to heat, but alike in winter and summer retained its leaves. Also it appeared to be withdrawn, solitary and silent, standing dark and still, like an Indian standing upon a hill with his robe drawn over his head in prayer and meditation. Thus it gave the suggestion, and had the appearance of being in communion with the High Powers.
Leaves and twigs of cedar were burned as incense in ceremonial rituals in order that evil influences might be driven away.
Willows were always found growing along watercourses, as though they had some duty or function in the world in connection with water, the element so immediately and constantly needful to man and to all other living things. Water was not only imperatively necessary for vivifying and reanimating all living things, but was an active agent in processes of change and transmutation. In cases of disease the evil influences which plagued the body might be driven out and thus health might be restored through the use of water transformed into vapor by means of heat. So the vapor bath was used. Also if a man contemplated the undertaking of any serious project, any dangerous mission, or any solemn enterprise, it was important first to prepare himself by purification, by means of the vapor bath, from all evil influences. The framework of the vapor bath lodge was made of willow poles, bent and tied with their bark.
The willow was also mystically connected with that greatest change of all, the departure of the spirit from the body, the change which we call death. Willow twigs had certain uses in funeral rites.
The cottonwood was found growing over a widely extended range, under diverse climatic conditions, appearing always self-reliant, showing prodigious fecundity, and having wonderful means of propagation. It provided its seed, produced in enormous number, with a device by which they traveled on the wind to far places and so became widely disseminated in all directions, traveling up-stream or down-stream, and even across the plains and prairies to other streams where the new generation might establish itself. But besides this admirable provision to insure the perpetuation of its kind it had also another means of propagation; though by this means it could move only down-stream. This method of propagation is by the making of cuttings or planting slips from its own twigs. It is well known that the gardener may make artificial cuttings of many kinds of trees and plants, and so increase his stock. But the cottonwood, alone among trees, performs this operation itself. At the beginning of autumn the cottonwood trees form layers of cork cells which gradually wedge off part of its twigs from the parent branch, thus covering and healing the wound of separation and also covering and healing the base of the separated twig so that it falls off alive and protected from loss of sap.
Falling thus to the ground just about the time that autumn rains are about to begin, they are ready to be carried away by the rising waters of the streams and may be thus planted in a mud or sand bank further down stream, ready to take root and grow in the springtime.
In the springtime the opening of the cottonwood buds and pushing out of the young leaves, even when chilly nights follow the bright breezy days and the rapid growth of these lustrous leaves, brightly dancing in the spring winds, their brilliant sheen and active movement reflecting the splendour of the sun like the dancing, glinting ripples of a lake, suggest the joy and eagerness and energy of movement of all returning life.
The foliage of the cottonwood is peculiar and remarkable so that it may be said the air is never so still that there is not motion of cottonwood leaves. Even in still and sultry summer afternoons, and at night when all else was still, ever they could hear the rustling of cottonwood leaves by the passage of little vagrant currents of air. Secret messages seemed ever to be passing in soft whispers among the cottonwood leaves. And the winds themselves are the bearers of the messages and commands of the Higher Powers, so there was constant reminder of the mystic character of this tree.
The cottonwood was, among trees, the symbol of fidelity, one of the four great virtues inculcated by the ethical code of the people of the Dakota nation.
So from all these considerations, it might be expected that this tree should have an important place in the rituals of the people for many generations associated with it. And so it had.
The Sacred Pole of the Omaha nation was made of the cottonwood. The Sacred Pole was an object of the greatest veneration to the people of that nation, similarly as the Ark of the Covenant was sacred to the Hebrew nation.
The Sacred Tree, the central object of the Sun Dance, the most momentous religious ritual of the Dakota nation, was a cottonwood. The tree which should be chosen to be felled and brought into camp and set up in the lodge erected for the performance of this ritual, must be a growing cottonwood tree, the base of whose trunk is not less than two spans in circumference. The tree must be straight and forked at a distance from the ground of about four times the measure of the outstretched arms from hand to hand.
Twigs and bark of cottonwood were burned as incense to ward against the scheming of Anog Ite, the spiteful malevolent being who foments scandals, strife and infidelity.
Such then, were some of the relations in the philosophic thought, the religious conceptions and the sentiments of the people of the Dakota nation in regard to these three species of trees.
The pasque flower (Pulsatilla patens), has a very extensive range upon the northern prairies, reaching from about latitude 43 degrees north to the Great Slave Lake above 60 degrees north latitude. It is the earliest flower to put forth its blossoms in the springtime, often appearing before all the snow is gone. Its bluish purple flowers gladden the bare brown hillsides with great profusion of bloom, in earnest of returning life. For this reason it has a strong hold upon the affections of all the native tribes throughout all its extended range. The plant is closely related to the anemone, which is sometimes called the wind flower.
The people of the Dakota nation have a number of pretty little folk stories concerning the pasque flower. One story is that in the long ago, whenever any of the people happened to pass by where these flowers were blooming they tried to show the friendliness which they felt for human beings by nodding their heads in the chilly spring wind, showing their smiling faces and saying, “Good morning! Good morning!” But the people passed them unheeding. They became abashed at this indifference, so nowadays still feeling friendly towards the people in spite of such rebuffs, they bashfully turn their heads to one side as they nod and call their kindly greetings in their sweet low voice.
There is another pretty conceit connected with the pasque flower. Indians generally are keenly observant of all things in nature, and reverent towards them. They feel reverence for all living creatures, whether plant or animal. They have songs and stories about most of the species of plants and animals with which they are acquainted, the specific song being the expression of the life or soul of the species to which it pertains. The song of the pasque flower, translated out of the Dakota language into English runs something like this:
Map of Geographical Distribution of Pasque Flower
The saying: “I wish to encourage the children of other flower nations,” refers to the very early prevernal blossoming of this plant and its consequent ripening while the other flower species (nations) are just peeping through the ground. The entire plant is hairy, and when mature its seed head is plumose and white, similar to the clematis head, suggesting the head of a very old man with long white hair. This explains the allusion in “I stand here old and gray-headed.”
When in springtime an old man of the Dakota nation first finds one of these flowers it reminds him of his childhood, when he wandered over the hills at play as free from sorrow and care as the birds and the flowers. He sits down near the flower, upon the lap of Mother Earth, takes out his pipe and fills it with tobacco. Then he reverently holds the pipe towards the earth, then towards the sky, then towards the north, the east, the south and the west. After this act of silent invocation and thanksgiving, he smokes. Tobacco was sacred and was used ceremonially as an incense. The pipe was therefore a sort of censer, and was accordingly treated with respect and reverence. In smoking, Indians did not seize the pipestem in the teeth. Such an act would be sacrilegious. The mouthpiece of the pipestem was gently presented to the lips and the breath drawn through. By this inspiration the smoker united the mystery of the tobacco, the mystery of fire and the mystery of the breath of life.
While the old man sits by the flower and smokes he meditates upon all the changing scenes of his lifetime; his joys and sorrows, his youthful hopes, his accomplishments, his disappointments, and upon the guidance of the Unseen Powers accorded to him thus far upon the journey of life, and he is encouraged to believe that he will be guided to the end of life’s journey “beyond the fourth hill” of life; as he has been guided over the hill of childhood, the hill of youth, and the hill of manhood’s prime, that he will also be guided over the last hill, the hill of old age.
After finishing his pipe he empties the ashes reverently upon the ground near the pasque flower which he has been contemplating. Then he rises and plucks the flower prayerfully and carries it carefully home to show to his grandchildren, singing as he goes, the song of the pasque flower, which he learned as a child and which he now teaches to his grandchildren, commending to them the example of the flower in its courage and endurance and its faithfulness.
By Rev. Ignatius Forster, O. S. B.
Mount Marty, Yankton, South Dakota.
February 1, 1921.
Father Forster was moved to write this delightful little song upon reading one evening, (February 1, 1921), the foregoing prose account of the Dakota (Sioux) Song of the Pasque Flower or Hoksi-Cekpa Wahca.
The prairie was gray and drab, no beautiful flowers brightened it, it had only dull greenish-gray herbs and grasses, and Mother Earth’s heart was sad because her robe was lacking in beauty and brightness. Then the Holy Earth, our mother, sighed and said, “Ah, my robe is not beautiful, it is sombre and dull. I wish it might be bright and beautiful with flowers and splendid with color. I have many beautiful, sweet and dainty flowers in my heart. I wish to have them upon my robe. I wish to have upon my robe flowers blue like the clear sky in fair weather. I wish also to have flowers white like the pure snow of winter and like the high white cloudlets of a quiet summer day. I wish also to have brilliant yellow flowers like the splendor of the sun at noon of a summer day. And I wish to have delicate pink flowers like the color of the dawn light of a joyous day in springtime. I would also have flowers red like the clouds at evening when the sun is going down below the western edge of the world. All these beautiful flowers are in my heart, but I am sad when I look upon my old dull, gray and brown robe.”
Then a sweet little pink flower said, “Do not grieve mother, I will go up upon your robe and beautify it.” So the little pink flower came up from the heart of Mother Earth to be upon the sad prairie of her mother’s robe.
Now when the Wind Demon saw the pink flower there he said, “Indeed she is pretty, but I will not have her trespassing in my playground.” So the Wind Demon rushed at her shouting and roaring and blew out her life, but her spirit returned to the heart of Mother Earth.
And when the other flowers ventured, one after another to come out upon the prairie which was Mother Earth’s robe, the Wind Demon destroyed them also and their spirits returned to the heart of Holy Mother Earth.
At last Prairie Rose offered to go and brighten the appearance of Mother Earth’s robe, the prairie. Mother Earth said fondly, “Yes, dear, sweet child, I will let you go. You are so lovely and your breath is so sweet, it may be that the Wind Demon will be charmed by you, and that he will let you remain on his ground.” And Prairie Rose said, “Yes, dear mother, I will go, for I desire that my mother’s robe shall be beautiful. But if the Wind Demon should blow out my life my spirit shall return home to the heart of my mother.”
So Prairie Rose made the toilsome journey up through the dark ground and came out upon the sad gray prairie. And as she was going Mother Earth said in her heart, “Oh, I hope the Wind Demon will allow her to live for I wish my robe to be beautiful!”
Now when the Wind Demon saw Prairie Rose he rushed at her shouting and said, “Indeed, though she is pretty I shall not allow her to be upon my ground. I will blow out her life.” So he came on roaring and drawing his breath in strong gusts. Just then he caught the fragrance of the breath of Prairie Rose. “Ah,” he said, “how sweet her breath is! Why, I do not have it in my heart to blow out the life of such a beautiful little maiden whose breath is so sweet! I love her. She shall stay here with me. And I must make my voice gentle and sing a melodious song, for I wish not to frighten her with my awful noise.”
So he became quiet and breathed gentle breezes which passed over the prairie grasses whispering and humming little songs of gladness.
Then the other flowers also came up through the dark ground and out upon the dull, gray prairie and made it bright and joyous with their presence. And the wind came to love all the flowers and the grasses.
And so the robe of our Mother Earth became beautiful because of the loveliness and the sweet breath of the Prairie Rose.
Sometimes the Wind forgets his gentle songs and becomes loud and boisterous, but he does not harm a person whose robe is ornamented with the color of Prairie Rose.
The following is a translation into English out of the Dakota language by Dr. A. McG. Beede, of an old Dakota song. The people of the Dakota nation, and other tribes also, think of the various plant and animal species as having each their own songs. With these people music, song, is an expression of the soul and not a mere artistic or artful exercise.
Where the word “Mother” appears in the following song it refers to “Mother Earth,” a living, conscious, holy being in Indian thought. The earth was truly venerated and loved by these people, who considered themselves not as owners or potential owners of any part of the land, but as being owned by the land which gave them birth and which supplied their physical needs from her bounty and satisfied their love of the beautiful by the beauty of her face in the landscape.
The trilled musical syllables at the close of the last two stanzas express the spontaneous joy which comes to a person who has “life-appreciation of Holy Earth.”
The first stanza is an introduction by the narrator; not a part of the “Song of the Wild Rose.” The remaining stanzas are the song itself, of the Wild Rose.
There is a native wild bean found growing over an area of wide distribution in North America. The botanical name of this bean is Falcata comosa. In the Dakota language it is called maka ta omnicha, which means “bean of the earth;” in the Pawnee language it is called ati-kuraru, which means “earth bean.” The plant grows in dense masses over shrubbery and other vegetation in some places, especially along banks and at the edge of timber.
It forms two kinds of branches, bearing two forms of flower, producing two forms of fruits. Leafy branches climb up over the shrubbery, but under these, in the shade, prostrate on the earth, starting out from the base of the main stem, are leafless, colorless branches, forming a network on the surface of the ground. The tiny inconspicuous blossoms borne on these prostrate branches are self-pollinated and push into the leaf mold and soft soil, and there each produces a single large bean closely clothed by a thin filmy pod or husk. These beans which are formed in the earth are about the size of Lima beans. Upon the upper, leafy branches are borne showy, purplish flowers appearing like small bean blossoms. From these blossoms are produced small bean pods about a half inch to an inch in length. These pods contain each from three to four or five small, hard, mottled beans about an eighth of an inch long.
The large beans produced in the ground are desirable for food. They are of good flavor when cooked. The small beans of the upper branches are also good for food, but they are so small and difficult to harvest that not much use is made of them by the people. The large beans formed in the earth would also be hard to gather but for the help of certain little animals called voles, or wood mice, or bean mice. The voles dig the large beans and store them in considerable quantities in storage places which they hollow out in the ground and which they cover over with sticks and leaves and earth. In these places the little animals put away sometimes a peck or a half bushel of beans.
Through all the extensive range of Falcata comosa, the ground-bean, it was sought by the people of the various Indian tribes to add to their food supply. The people said they did not take away all the beans from the voles as it would be wicked to loot the animals’ food stores and leave the animals to starve after they had worked to gather them. But they would take a part of the store, in a manner making themselves beggars to the little animals. The Omahas have a saying that “The bean mouse is a very industrious fellow, he even helps human beings.”
But in all accounts I have had from the people of the Dakota nation the women have always said that they never took away any beans from the voles without making some payment in kind. They said it would be wicked and unjust to take the beans from the animals and give nothing in return. So they said they always put back some corn, some suet, or some other food material in exchange for the beans they took out. In that way they said both they and the little animals obtained a variety in their food supply. They said they thought it very wrong to deprive the animals of their store without such payment, but that it was fair if they gave a fair exchange.
The people of the Dakota nation speak of the wood-mice or voles by the designation of “Hintunka people.” In the Dakota theory of the universe they personify the maternal power and spirit by the name Hunka. Hunka is the mystic All-Mother in nature, the mother of all living beings, plant or animal, which of course includes mankind. For they do not think of mankind as being apart from nature and the community of life in the world.
The Dakotas have a moral story which is told as follows:
A certain woman went and plundered the store-house of some Hintunka people. She robbed them of their entire food supply without even giving them anything at all in return. The next night this woman who had robbed the Hintunka people of all their food supply heard a woman down in the woods crying and saying “Oh, what will my poor children do?” It was the voice of one of the Hintunka women crying over her hungry children.
The same night the woman who had done the wrong had a dream. In her dreams Hunka appeared to her and said “You should not have taken the food from the Hintunka people. Take back the food to them, or else your own children shall cry for food.”
The next morning the woman told her husband what Hunka had said to her. Her husband said “You would better do as Hunka tells you to do.” But the woman was hard-hearted and perverse and would not restore to the Hintunka people the food of which she had robbed them, neither would she give them anything in exchange.
A short time after this a great prairie fire came, driven by a strong wind, and swept over the place where this unjust woman and her family were camping. The fire burned up her tipi and everything it contained, and they barely escaped with their lives. They had no food nor shelter and they had to wander on the prairie destitute.
The bean-mouse and its works are regarded with respect, admiration and reverence by the people of the various Indian tribes which benefit by its labor. They feel very resentful towards any seeming tendency to meddle unwarrantedly with its winter store-houses. Upon hearing of the desire of a white man to make a photograph of such a store-house an old man of the Teton-Dakota on the Standing Rock Reservation expressed bitter resentment and declared himself ready to fight to prevent such a thing from being done. He said “We have enough misfortune already, counting the war and the epidemic of influenza, without inviting further disaster by such sacrilege.”
In the month of November, after the bean mice have harvested their beans and laid them up in their store-houses for the winter, the people often go out alone and sit near some such store-house in silent meditation on the ways of Providence. At that time of the year the missionaries and priests are often pained and puzzled because of the absence of some of their church members from Sunday service or from mass on Sunday morning. They do not know, and likely would not appreciate or understand the feeling which has caused these people to go out at such a time, not to the church but out to the quiet place under the open heaven where they sit upon the lap of Mother Earth to reverently and thankfully meditate upon the mysteries of nature and the wonderful provisions of God in nature.
At such times they like to bring in to their homes or to their churches some object connected with the bean mouse and his marvelous ways and work. If they find some beans which the bean mouse has spilled in transportation to his store-house, or a tree-leaf which they suppose he has used as his sled for carrying his beans from field to store-house, they will bring in such objects and lay them up reverently in the home or in the church with devout regard for prayerful meditation. Indians say that the bean mouse uses a leaf of the boxelder tree, or sometimes another kind of leaf of suitable shape, as a sled for gathering his stores.
At one time an old blind man of the Teton-Dakota on the Standing Rock Reservation on the upper Missouri River went out to the vicinity of a vole’s store-house to meditate and pray. A man saw him and quietly approached within hearing distance. As the old man was blind he did not perceive the approach of the observer. Thinking himself alone in the presence of the powers of nature, this devout old man, gave expression to his religious feeling in the following prayer:
“Thou who art holy, pity me and help me I pray. Thou art small, but thou art sufficiently large for thy place in the world. And thou art sufficiently strong also for thy work, for Holy Wakantanka constantly strengthens thee. Thou art wise, for the wisdom of holiness is with Thee constantly.
“May I be wise in all my heart continually, for if an attitude of holy wisdom leads me on, then this shadow-troubled life shall come into constant light.”
Over all the dry prairies of the Great Plains region there grows a plant (Psoralea esculenta), which was an important item of the food supplies of all the tribes of the region. It is a species which belongs botanically to the Bean Family. The part used for food is the large root, which is stored with proteid and starchy matter. The root is about the size of a hen’s egg. The stem of the plant is bushy and branched; the leaves are trifoliate. The leaves and stems of the plant are hairy, giving it a grayish-green appearance. The flowers are set in close racemes at the ends of the branches, and are bluish in color and of bean blossom shape.
In the journals of the early travellers mention of this plant is often found under the name of “pomme blanche” or “pomme de prairie,” the name by which the French traders and trappers called it, for they learned to live upon the native products of the land. English speaking people coming later, and depending not so much on native products, did not supply names for them, not considering them of enough importance. The name which I have given it for a common English name is an approximation to, and an adaptation of the name of this plant in the Dakota language.
Tipsin roots are gathered in June or early July. They were used fresh when gathered, and they were also gathered in quantity and peeled and dried for future use. The women gathered them by the use of digging sticks. They had their children with them to look for the plants while they dug them. Because of the branching habit of the plant the mother would say to her children, “See, they point to each other. Now here is one, notice the directions in which its arms point and you will find others.” So the children would start, each in the direction of one of the branches, and of course, if they followed in any direction and kept close watch they would find another. The idea of the plants pointing to each other kept the children’s attention fixed.
All the tribes which cultivated corn had legends accounting for its acquisition. Many of these are very interesting and beautiful. In the Sacred Legends of the Omaha, of which account is given in “The Omaha Tribe,” Twenty-seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, by Alice Fletcher and Francis La Flesche, occurs the following legend of the finding of corn:
“Then a man in wandering about found some kernels, blue, and red, and white. He thought he had secured something of great value, so he concealed them in a mound. One day he thought he would go to see if they were safe. When he came to the mound he found it covered with stalks having ears bearing kernels of these colours. He took an ear of each kind and gave the rest to the people to experiment with. They tried it for food, found it good, and ever since have called it their life. As soon as the people found the corn good, they thought to make mounds like that in which the kernels had been hid. So they took the shoulder blade of an elk and built mounds like the first and buried the corn in them. So the corn grew and the people had abundant food.”
While the legend does not designate what tribe it was which first obtained corn, it is probably to be identified with the following fuller account which is also told in the Omaha Sacred Legends, and which recites that they first learned of corn and obtained seed of it from the Arikara. The story tells how the Arikara first obtained corn by divine favour, and then how they gave it to other tribes, among these fortunate ones being the Omaha. It should be remembered that at the time the Omaha came to where they now reside and have resided for some centuries, the Arikara were in the region of what is now northern Nebraska, so they were then neighbors of the Omaha. No doubt the declaration of the legend that the Omahas did first obtain corn from the Arikara is based on fact, in that corn culture among the Omaha had been borrowed from the Arikara, who later migrated farther north along the upper Missouri River.
The story runs thus:
“The Arikara were the first to obtain the maize. A young man went out hunting. He came to a high hill, and, looking down upon a valley, he saw a buffalo bull standing in the middle of a bottom land lying between two rivers at their confluence. As the young man searched the surroundings to find how he might approach the buffalo he was impressed with the beauty of the landscape. The banks of the two rivers were low and well timbered. He observed that the buffalo stood facing north; he saw also that he could not approach from any side within bowshot. He thought that the only way to get a chance to shoot the buffalo would be to wait until the animal moved close to the banks of one of the rivers, or to the hills where there were ravines and shrubs. So the young man waited. The sun went down and the buffalo had not moved; the young man went home disappointed. He lay awake nearly all night brooding over his disappointment, for food had become scarce and the buffalo would have afforded a good supply. Before dawn the young man arose and hastened to the place where he had discovered the buffalo to see whether the animal might be somewhere near, if it had moved. Just as he reached the summit of the hill, where he was the day before, the sun arose, and he saw that the buffalo was in the same spot. But he noticed that it was now facing toward the east. Again the young man waited for the animal to move, but again the sun went down while the buffalo remained standing in the same spot. The hunter went home and passed another restless night. He started out again before dawn and came to the top of the hill just as the sun arose, and saw the buffalo in the same place still, but it had now turned to face the south. The young man waited and watched all day, but when darkness came he once more had to go away disappointed. He passed another sleepless night. His desire to secure game was mixed with curiosity to know why the buffalo should so persistently remain in that one spot without eating or drinking or lying down to rest. He rose upon the fourth morning before dawn, his mind occupied with this curiosity, and made haste to reach the hill to see if the buffalo still stood in the same place. Morning light had come when he arrived at the hill, and he saw that the buffalo was standing in exactly the same place, but had turned around to face the west. He was determined now to know what the animal would do, so he settled down to watch as he had throughout the three previous days. He now began to think that the animal was acting in this manner under the influence of some unseen power for some mysterious purpose, and that he, as well as the buffalo, was controlled by the same influence. Darkness again came upon him and the animal was still standing in the same position. The young man returned home, but he was kept awake all night by his thoughts and wondering what would come of this strange experience. He rose before dawn and hastened again to the mysterious scene. As he reached the summit of the hill dawn spread across all the land. Eagerly he looked. The buffalo was gone! But just where the buffalo had been standing there appeared something like a small bush. The young man now approached the spot with a feeling of curiosity and of awe, but also something of disappointment. As soon as he came near he saw that what had appeared from a distance like a small bush was a strange unknown plant. He looked upon the ground and saw the tracks of the buffalo; he observed that they turned from the north to the east, and to the south, and to the west; and in the centre there was but one buffalo track, and out of it had sprung this strange plant. He examined the ground all around the plant to find where the buffalo had left the place, but there were no other footprints except those he had already seen near the plant. He made haste to reach his home village. There he notified the chiefs and elders of his people concerning the strange experience which he had had. Led by the young man they proceeded to the place of the buffalo and examined the ground with care, and found that what he had told them was true. They found the tracks of the buffalo where he had stood and where he had turned, but could find no trace of his coming to the place nor of his going from it. Now while all these men believed that this plant had been given to the people in this mysterious manner by Wakanda for their use, still they were not sure what that use might be nor in what manner it should be used. The people knew of other plants that were useful for food, and the season for their ripening, and, believing that the fruit of this strange plant would ripen in its proper time, they arranged to guard and protect it carefully, awaiting with patience the time of its ripening and further revelation of its purpose.
“After a time a spike of flowers appeared at the top of the plant, but from their knowledge of other plants they knew that the blossom was but the flower and not the fruit. But while they watched this blossom, expecting it to develop into fruit, as they expected it would, a new growth appeared from the joints of the plant. They now gave special attention to the new growth. It grew larger, and finally something appeared at the top which looked like hair. This, in the course of time, turned from pale green to dark brown, and after much discussion the people concluded that this growth at the side of the plant was its fruit, and that it had ripened. Until this time no one had dared to approach within touch of the plant. Although they were anxious to know the uses to which the plant could be put, or for which it was intended, no one dared to touch it. While the people were assembled around the plant uncertain and undetermined how to approach the examination of it to learn its possible use, a youth stepped forward and spoke:
“‘Every one knows how my life from childhood has been worse than useless, that my life among you has been more evil than good. Therefore since no one would regret, should any evil befall me, let me be the first to touch this plant and taste of its fruit, so that you may not suffer any harm and that you may learn if the plant possesses qualities which may be for our good.’ When the people gave their assent the youth stepped forward and placed his hands over the top of the plant and brought them down by the sides of the plant to the roots in the manner of giving thanks and blessing. He then grasped the fruit, and, turning to the people, said, ‘It is solid; it is ripe.’ Very gently then he parted the husks at the top, and again turning to the people, he said, ‘The fruit is red.’ Then he took a few of the grains, showed them to the people, then ate them, and replaced the husks. The youth suffered no ill effects, and the people were convinced that this plant was given them for food. In the autumn, when the prairie grass had turned brown, the stalks and leaves of this plant turned brown also. The fruit was plucked and put away with carefulness. The next spring the kernels were divided among the people, four to each family. The people removed to the place where the strange plant had appeared, and there they built their huts along the banks of the two rivers. When the hills began to be green from the new prairie grass, the people planted the kernels of this strange plant, having first built mounds like the one out of which the first plant grew. To the great joy of the people the kernels sprouted and grew into strong healthy plants. Through the summer they grew and developed, and the fruit ripened as did that of the original plant. The fruit was gathered and some was eaten, and was found to be good. In gathering the fruit the people discovered that there were various colours—some ears were white and others were blue, some were red, others were yellow.
“The next season the people gathered a rich harvest of this new plant. In the autumn these people, the Arikara, sent invitations to a number of different tribes to come and visit them. Six tribes came; one of these was the Omaha. The Arikara were very generous in the distribution of the fruit of this new plant among their guests, and in this manner a knowledge of the plant came to the Omaha.”
The Pawnee had migrated from the distant southwest into the Plains region, finally arriving at the region drained by the Republican, the Platte, and the Niobrara rivers. Corn was native in Mexico, and had been introduced into the Plains by gradual adaptation in cultivation along the line of migration of the Pawnee nation. These hymns express something of the high value which the people placed upon corn as an item of their daily sustenance. They also reflect something of the scenery of the Plains landscape. These hymns are from an ancient Pawnee ritual which is given entire in the Twenty-second Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Part 2.
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The two preceding hymns reflect the fact that corn was introduced by the Pawnee from their more ancient homeland in the faraway southwest in remotely past time into the region of their later residence in the plains. They also reflect the importance which corn had in the everyday life of this people.
The following hymn to Mother Corn as Guide is expressive of the sense of vastness and awesomeness of the great extent of the Plains, and something of its grimness.