Dahcotah | Page 9

the
Indian man or woman. They looked on my husband as their friend, and
talked to him freely on all subjects, whether of religion, customs, or
grievances. They were frequently told that I was writing about them,
that every body might know what great warriors they were.
The men were sometimes astonished at the boldness with which I
reproved them, though it raised me much in their estimation. I
remember taking Bad Hail, one of their chiefs, to task, frequently; and
on one occasion he told me, by way of showing his gratitude for the
interest I took in his character, that he had three wives, all of whom he
would give up if I would "leave Eastman, and come and live with him."
I received his proposition, however, with Indian indifference, merely
replying that I did not fancy having my head split open every few days
with a stick of wood. He laughed heartily after his fashion, conscious
that the cap fitted, for he was in the habit of expending all his surplus
bad temper upon his wives. I have sometimes thought, that if, when a
warrior, be he chief or commoner, throws a stick of wood at his wife's
head, she were to cast it back at his, he might, perhaps, be taught better
behaviour. But I never dared to instil such insubordinate notions into
the heads of my Sioux female friends, lest some ultra "brave," in a
desperate rage, might substitute the tomahawk for the log. These
opinions, too, might have made me unpopular with Sioux and
Turks--and, perchance, with some of my more enlightened friends, who
are self-constituted "lords of creation."
I noticed that Indians, like white people, instead of confessing and
forsaking their sins, were apt to excuse themselves by telling how much
worse their neighbors were. When told how wicked it was to have more
than one wife, they defended themselves by declaring that the
Winnebagoes had twice or thrice as many as the Sioux. The attempt to
make one right of two wrongs seems to be instinctive.
I wished to learn correctly the Indian songs which they sing in
celebrating their dances. I sent for a chief, Little Hill, who is a famous
singer, but with little perseverance as a teacher of music. He soon lost

all patience with me, refused to continue the lesson, declaring that he
could never make me sing like a Sioux squaw. The low, guttural notes
created the difficulty. He very quickly became tired of my piano and
singing. The chiefs and medicine men always answered my questions
readily, respecting their laws and religion; but, to insure good humor,
they must first have something to eat. All the scraps of food collected
in the kitchen; cold beef, cold buckwheat cakes; nothing went amiss,
especially as to quantity. Pork is their delight--apples they are
particularly fond of--and, in the absence of fire-water, molasses and
water is a most acceptable beverage. Then they had to smoke and nod a
little before the fire--and by and by I heard all about the Great Spirit,
and Hookah the Giant, and the powers of the Sacred Medicine. All that
is said in this book of their religion, laws, and sentiments, I learned
from themselves, and most of the incidents occurred precisely as they
are represented. Some few have been varied, but only where it might
happily illustrate a peculiar custom or opinion.
Their medicine men, priests, and jugglers, are proverbially the greatest
scamps of the tribe. My dear father must forgive me for reflecting so
harshly on his brother practitioners, and be reconciled when he hears
that they belong to the corps of quacks; for they doubt their own
powers, and are constantly imposing on the credulity of others. On
returning from an evening walk, we met, near the fort, a notable
procession. First came an old medicine man, whose Indian name I
cannot recall; but the children of the garrison called him "Old
Sneak"--a most appropriate appellation, for he always looked as if he
had just committed murder, and was afraid of being found out. On this
occasion he looked particularly in character. What a representative of
the learned faculty! After him, in Indian file, came his wife and
children, a most cadaverous looking set. To use a western phrase, they
all looked as if they were "just dug up." Their appearance was
accounted for in the following ludicrous manner--the story is doubtless
substantially true. There was a quantity of refuse medicine that had
been collecting in the hospital at the fort, and Old Sneak happened to
be present at a general clearing out. The medicine was given to him;
and away he went to his home, hugging it up close to him like a
veritable old miser. It was too precious to