Reservation is an almost unknown word to many of the Indians and the whites. The people are mostly of French descent. There are about 100 Indians living in this town. They are scattered among the white people. They work together and make the laws for the town in the same way. Indian boys and girls attend the same schools as the white children. Indians have equal rights with, and make laws and vote the same as their white brothers.25
Caleb Carter (Nez Percé)
Caleb Carter (born 1888), whose Indian name was Ip-nau-sau-lau-kaskt, attended Haskell Institute for three years before entering Carlisle in 1909. His student file indicates that he did not attend Carlisle continuously. After graduating in 1912 he moved to Kansas to become a farmer. (Carlisle Indian School Digital Resource Center; Littlefield and Parins, Biobibliography: Supplement, 187)
Christmas among the Nez Percés, 1911
Come with me to spend Christmas with that famous Indian tribe which led Generals Miles and Howard a merry chase through the Rockies not so many years ago, covering a distance of over thirteen hundred miles, regardless of the numbers pitted against them.
We will find that the Nez Percé Reservation is in the northern part of Idaho on the Clearwater River, a tributary of the Columbia River, almost directly across the boundary line between Oregon and Washington, on the Idaho side.
Our invitation came several weeks beforehand, stating the place at which the Indians were to gather for the festivities, and fixing the date, several days before Christmas. No one is barred from the celebration, for the poor and the rich are alike welcome.
On the day appointed, we find all the invited guests assembled in camp which is not to break until the middle of January. The first event on the program is the delivering of an address of welcome by the chief in a big tent where all the guests are gathered.
When Christmas Day actually comes, there is a very great bustle throughout the encampment and all seem to be as busy as ants; some are helping to barbecue the beef, others are preparing the program for the afternoon’s entertainment, and still others are fixing their war bonnets, leggings, and other articles of apparel worn on such occasions.
At last dinner is announced and the “heap big eat” commences. It is no dog feast, you may be sure; but it is exactly what you would expect to find at some elaborate banquet among white people, with a few natural differences. For instance, here there are dried venison, dried salmon, and other dainties which only an old-time Indian has the secret of preparing.
After dinner is over and the tables cleared away from the big tent, the chief commands each person present to prepare for the annual dance—the “Tukyawa”—a dance which has been handed down among the Nez Percés from generation to generation. It may be said that this dance answers to our Memorial Day observance on May thirtieth. All the old costumes are brought out to be worn by the relatives of absent ones, for the dance is to be in commemoration of those whose places in the tribe have been filled by others. The dance starts with a special song—of very ancient origin—a song so sad that it brings tears to the eyes of all who are within hearing, for the Indians are a very sympathetic race and their dead are very dear to them. When this one song is ended, and the dancers have gone several times in a big circle around the tent, like soldiers marching in file, then all the sad part of the celebration is over.
Now the guests may do anything they choose to do, and they usually choose to dance. The dances are, for the most part, round dances, or the war dance, each of which is announced by the chief.
During a war dance, the attention of a stranger would naturally be fixed on the decorations of the dancers, and they would notice how curiously this one or that one has painted his body or his shield. These decorations all tell a story, and, should you ask an old-timer who has to his credit about sixteen or seventeen scalps, the meaning of the emblems painted on a certain shield, he would, perhaps, tell you that during the war with General Howard, or the Crows, or any other tribe, this particular buck scalped his enemy alive; or, that he came off victorious after being surrounded by his enemies. It is like reading shorthand at “Old Carlisle” to interpret these symbols.
During the war dance, if some dancer should lose some part of his ornament, a feather usually, the following performance would ensue:
First, the tune changes, the drum sounds like the roar of a cannon, war whoops arise, and the whole tumult gives the hearer the impression that a real Indian scrimmage is taking place. Now, everything but the singing ceases and the dancers dance in time with the music around the feather lying upon the ground. As soon as the drum starts up again, the dancers suddenly stop and seat themselves in a circle, until the discord ceases. This is kept up for some time.
Suddenly one brave steps to the center of the circle, where the feather is lying; and, as he approaches it, he performs certain maneuvers resembling those which actually took place at some critical moment in his career. Nearer and nearer he draws to the feather, while all, who are closing the circle in on him, watch him closely. At last, the brave strikes the feather with his tomahawk. Then the music stops, all reseat themselves, and the warrior tells of the brave deed which his movements have been suggesting, the record of which is painted on his person. Perhaps it is a tale of a miraculous escape from death; perhaps he tells how he saved some one from losing his scalp to the enemy; probably he shows a scar or two as a result of the encounter. When he has finished his story he returns the feather to the owner. Meanwhile, his relatives are piling money, blankets, shawls, and numerous other articles for him to distribute to his listeners, to show how grateful he is that on this Christmas Day he is still alive, when he might have fallen a victim to his dreaded foes.
During these war dances many things are given away. Visitors, if they happen to be of a different tribe, usually get the most of these. If a lady has asked you to dance with her during the round dance, she pays you, either with a blanket or a sum of money, and you must take the gift or she will feel herself insulted, for it is a time-honored custom of this tribe to make gifts in this manner—from a few cents in value to a span of horses or a wagon.
We have spent the day witnessing many curious customs, handed down from our ancestors; our visit is over and we return to our homes.26
How the Nez Percés Trained for Long Distance Running, 1911
Strange and improbable as this description seems, it is every word of it true, as the writer is of the tribe mentioned in the title of his paper and has always been familiar with the customs about to be described.
The men of the tribe who were set apart by their physical qualifications to train for runners, used to commence their training in the latter part of October, at which time they began to take early morning baths in cold mountain streams. These baths were kept up through the whole winter season until the spring weather made the water cooler.27
Next on the schedule to be followed by those in training are the warm baths, taken in a hole in the ground where the water is heated by hot rocks, mixed with cold baths described above. If the warm bath is not taken, the sweat bath is substituted, and is prepared as follows: first, a skeleton of a small hut is made from willow boughs; this is covered with twigs and dirt, a small opening being left in front for a door, over which blankets are hung. Near this door, a small round hole is dug and filled with red-hot stones. After all the trainers have had a plunge in the cold water they enter this little sweat house and close the door. Then one of the number pours warm water on the red-hot stones, causing the steam to rise and surround the occupants of the tightly-closed room.
After awhile the victims emerge and take another plunge into the cold water. This process they keep up until the stones are cold and useless for the manufacture of steam.
After a light dinner, consisting of merely a little soup, the same program is repeated; and this is done daily for at least three months of the year, sweat baths being indulged in in the early morning and late evening—usually after sunset.
The way in which a young buck’s end
urance was tested was like this: An old warrior selects a tree with a limb affording a tempting opportunity to swing on it by one’s hands. When the night comes for the testing, the old buck calls the young brave to jump out from his hot bath-hole, to leap and catch the limb with both hands, and to cling to it until he is ordered to “let go.” If he drops unconscious before the signal is given, it is a sign that the training has not been sufficient, and he is ordered to return to his daily routine until such time as he can cling to the limb for the desired number of minutes. After this testing, the program for those in training is extended by the addition of short runs, every morning and evening, for a distance of five or six miles. As the youths begin to show endurance, this distance is gradually lengthened.
Then comes another testing: A small hill, so many paces high, is chosen, up which they are required to run, on jumping out of the hot bath. If the person tested does not reach the top and back again, he is considered not yet in proper condition. Sometimes the candidate runs halfway up the hill, then falls and rolls down the slope unconscious.
Such training gives to the Indian incredible strength, agility, and power of endurance. As an example, one needs only to cite Lawyer, who was killed near Cul de Sac, Idaho. Compared with his white brothers, he appeared to be about forty at the time of his death, but in reality he was past seventy years of age. It is said that at one time, before the Nez Percé war, he chased a black bear for over sixty miles, over mountains and across canyons. He might have succeeded in catching “Bruin,” but it grew too dark for the chase, so he calmly trotted back home again.
I wonder how the young Indian of today would like this sort of training?
Now, an Indian cannot even break through the ice, while skating, without endangering his life.28
Short Stories and Retold Tales
Joseph Du Bray (Yankton Sioux)
See the Essays section for a profile of Joseph Du Bray (born ca. 1872).
A Fox and a Wolf: A Fable, 1892
There was once upon a time a wolf and a fox were travelling through a civilized country. The wolf was very proud and talked as though he was the only one that knew everything on this universe. He even told the fox that he could speak all kinds of languages.
The fox was very polite and gentle to him, but not in his heart; then the wolf put his confidence in him without delay. Thus they journeyed together very happily for three months, although the fox [was] thinking about how he could get the proud wolf into trouble all the way.
One day as they went through a beautiful forest country, they saw a mare and a colt by the highway. When the fox saw the beautiful colt he wished to have it for dinner. The fox said to the wolf, “Go and ask the mare how much she wants for her colt.” The wolf answered and said, “You better go yourself, because you are small, light, and you can run swiftly; you can escape from the owner if he should come.”
The fox went to the mare and said, “Hallo! Mare, you have a nice colt, how much do you want for him?” The mare answered and said, “Certainly I have a nice colt; if you wish to know the price, you must lift my hind leg and look into my foot.” The fox refused to do it and went back to the road where the wolf was waiting. The fox told the wolf all the words the mare said and also told him that he had seen the price mark in her hind foot, but could not make out on account of having no education and said, “You know how to talk and read different kinds of languages, so please go and see how much she wants for her colt. I am very hungry, aren’t you?” The wolf went and asked the same question which the fox asked.
The mare answered the question by saying, “You lift up my hind leg and you shall see how much I take for him.” So the wolf went to her and was about to raise her leg [when] the mare kicked him with both her feet and mash[ed] his nose. The fox laughed and mocked him and went on his way as happy as ever.
The poor wolf was left behind by his own friend, one who he put his confidence in.
Moral—Never think yourself better than others, and never put your confidence in a person because he is polite to you and smiles before your face. They are happy when trouble comes to you.1
Harry Hand (Crow Creek Sioux)
Harry Hand entered Hampton in 1889 at eighteen, after spending six years at the Crow Creek Agency School, and was a regular contributor to Talks and Thoughts. He wrote stories about war and hunting that were passed down from elders, including “The Brave War-Chief and the Ghost” and “A Buffalo Hunt,” both reprinted here. He also wrote about trickster figures like the spider in “The Spider, the Panther, and the Snake.” Besides highlighting the importance of the art of storytelling to Native education, Hand’s writings and illustrations bring into focus how some boarding school students used the periodical press to preserve in print the oral and pictorial traditions of Native American culture. Hand not only celebrates and affirms his indigenous oral and pictorial heritage but also illustrates the humanity of Native Americans to readers of Talks and Thoughts.
After leaving Hampton in 1894 Hand returned to the Crow Creek reservation, where he founded his own newspaper, the Crow Creek Herald. Hand and another Hampton alumnus edited the newspaper. In April 1898 Hand founded the Crow Creek Chief, which published news about Crow Creek returnees and commented on broader issues that influenced Indian affairs in South Dakota. He died just over a year later, in the summer of 1899. (Fear-Segal, White Man’s Club, 130–34; Littlefield and Parins, Biobibliography: Supplement, 223)
The Brave War-Chief and the Ghost, 1892
I don’t know whether this story is true or not, but some Indians say it is a true story.
Well, many years ago, when there were no white people in the west, the tribes of Indians used to make war against each other. At one time, a chief picked out nearly all the young men of an Indian village and said he wanted to go to war with the Crow Indians. These Indians that wanted to go to war were Sioux Indians. Well, there were about 40 young men under that brave chief. They were all under the age of 30.
They started from their village on foot, for they expected to take the ponies away from the Crows. At the end of the four days’ journey they came to a place, where, they said, a ghost lived. They said that was a very horrible place, for even more than 100 brave warriors were scared and driven away from that place by that ghost. That was a very beautiful place with many trees and plenty of water, for there was a large creek too. Every time the Indians go to war they stopped at that place, but the ghost always bothered them at night and scared them so they always had to flee.
Well, they put up a very large wigwam made of small trees and leaves. As soon as it was dark they built a fire and sat around it, ready to enjoy their pipes. But as they began to talk about what they were going to do when they reached the Crows’ camp, they heard someone crying in the woods. Then they began to feel frightened, for they were not much acquainted with ghosts or ever go to war before, so they were coward fellows. They heard strange stories about that ghost before they started on their journey. The ghost kept coming closer and closer to the wigwam. He screamed and did all sorts of things to scare them. Nearly all the young men lay senseless on top of each other, because the ghost frightened them. The brave chief, as he was called, sat calmly by the fire enjoying his big pipe.
When the ghost came to the door the chief told him not to make such noise but to come in quietly. The ghost came in. He was nothing but a skeleton of a man and had a blanket wrapped around him. The chief handed his pipe to him, but while he was smoking the chief laughed hard for the smoke came out of every hole in the skull of the ghost. One of the young men recovered his sense and the chief told him to get a piece of meat for his friend. He took a kind of membrane of fat which was nearly as large as a blanket. He said he was going to cook it for his friend, the ghost. He held it over the fire and when it was burning he took the ghost’s blanket away and wrapped the burning fat around him. The poor ghost cried out and fled, but the chief took his war-club and chased him. The moon began to shine just at the time so the chief kept on c
hasing him and broke all the bones to pieces. The next morning all the young men determined to go home. The chief had to go on by himself. He reached the Crows’ village. Two men were guarding the horses at night but while they were sleeping he killed and scalped both of them and drove all the horses home. When he came home they had a war-dance and he gave some of the horses away. The people gave another war-bonnet to the chief, for they said, he was a brave man. It was a very dangerous thing to wear a war-bonnet during a battle. The enemies would shoot first at the man that wore a war-bonnet. They always wanted to kill the most brave men and they had to wear war-bonnets.2
A Buffalo Hunt, 1892
Once upon a time two Indian families went out to hunt. At the end of two days’ journey from their village, they camped at a place where [there] was plenty of grass for their ponies and plenty of water. These two men were brothers. Their grandfather, the old war chief, was a medicine man too, and when they camped he put up his medicine flag and hung his drum and things on the staff so that his sons would have good luck in their hunting. They had only a little meat left hanging on the iwotkeyapi, or pole laid across two forked sticks to dry the meat on, and were very anxious to see a big fat buffalo come that way. By and by one came very near and the young men chased it on their horses. One of them used a spear and the other used a bow and arrow. Their grandfather stood outside the tipi watching them, and the women were ready to help at any time. After they had killed the buffalo they took the skin off, which was used for a blanket afterwards. In those days buffaloes were very useful. The Indian used to make spoons out of the buffalo’s horns and some of the horns were used as a cup to drink out of. Some skins, with the hairs on, were used as blankets. Others were tanned and made into moccasins and something like a satchel called in Indian unksuna.
Recovering Native American Writings in the Boarding School Press Page 10