Dahcotah Part 6

Red Cloud boasted of his bravery and his deeds of valor; even the old men listened to him with respect, for they knew that his name was a terror to his enemies. But Wenona turned from him! she hated to hear the sound of his voice.

The old men talked of the mighty giant of the Dahcotahs, he who needed not to take his gun to kill the game he wanted; the glance of his eye would strike with death the deer, the buffalo, or even the bear.

The song, the jest, the legend, by turns occupied them until they separated to sleep. But as the warriors stepped into the open air, why does the light of the moon fall upon faces pale with terror? "See!" said the chief, "how flash the mysterious lights! there is danger near, some dreadful calamity is threatening us."

"We will shoot at them," said Red Cloud; "we will destroy their power."

And the Indians discharged their guns in quick succession towards the northern horizon, which was brilliantly illuminated with the Aurora Borealis; thus hoping to ward off coming danger.

The brother and sister were left alone at the door of the teepee. The stern warrior's looks expressed superst.i.tious terror, while the maiden's face was calm and fearless. "Do you not fear the power of the woman who sits in the north, Wenona? she shows those flashes of light to tell us of coming evil."

"What should I fear," said Wenona; "I, who will soon join my mother, my father, my sisters, in the land of spirits? Listen to my words, my brother: there are but two of us; strife and disease have laid low the brave, the good, the beautiful; we are the last of our family; you will soon be alone.

"Before the leaves fell from the trees, as I sat on the banks of the Mississippi, I saw the fairy of the water. The moon was rising, but it was not yet bright enough for me to see her figure distinctly. But I knew her voice; I had often heard it in my dreams. 'Wenona,' she said, (and the waves were still that they might hear her words), 'Wenona, the lands of the Dahcotah are green and beautiful--but there are fairer prairies than those on earth. In that bright country the forest trees are ever green, and the waves of the river flow on unchilled by the breath of winter. You will not long be with the children of the earth.

Even now your sisters are calling you, and your mother is telling them that a few more months will bring you to their side!'

"The words were true, my brother, but I knew not that your harshness would hasten my going. You say that I shall marry Red Cloud; sooner will I plunge my knife into my heart; sooner shall the waves of the Mississippi roll over me. Brother, you will soon be alone!"

"Speak not such words, my sister," said the chief; "it shall be as you will. I have not promised Red Cloud. I thought you would be happy if you were his wife, and you shall not be forced to marry him. But why should you think of death? you saw our braves as they shot at the lights in the north. They have frightened them away. Look! they flash no more. Go in, and sleep, and to-morrow I will tell Red Cloud that you love him not."

And the cloudless moon shone on a happy face, and the bright stars, seemed more bright as Wenona gazed upon them; but as she turned to enter the wigwam, one star was seen falling in the heavens, and the light that followed it was lost in the brightness of the others. And her dreams were not happy, for the fairy of the water haunted them. "Even as that star, Wenona, thou shalt pa.s.s from all that thou lovest on earth; but weep not, thy course is upward!"

The hunters were so successful that they returned to their village soon.

The friends of Wenona rejoiced in her happy looks, but to Harpstenah they were bitterness and gall. The angry countenance of Red Cloud found an answering chord in her own heart.

"Ha!" said she to him, as he watched Wenona and her lover talking together, "what has happened? Did you not say you would marry the chief's sister--why then are you not with her? Red Cloud is a great warrior, why should he be sad because Wenona loves him not? Are there not maidens among the Dahcotahs more beautiful than she? She never loved you; her brother, too, has treated you with contempt. Listen to my words, Red Cloud; the Virgin's Feast is soon to be celebrated, and she will enter the ring for the last time. When she comes forward, tell her she is unworthy. Is she not a disgrace to the band? Has she not shamed a brave warrior? Will you not be despised when another is preferred to you?"

The words of the tempter are in his ear--madness and hatred are in his heart.

"I said I would take her life, but my revenge will be deeper. Wenona would die rather than be disgraced." And as he spoke Harpstenah turned to leave him, for she saw that the poison had entered his soul.

CHAPTER IV.

Among the Dahcotahs, women are not excluded from joining in their feasts or dances; they dance the scalp dance while the men sit round and sing, and they join in celebrating many of the customs of their tribe. But the Virgin's Feast has reference to the women alone; its object is not to celebrate the deeds of the warrior, but rather to put to the test the virtue of the maiden.

Notice was given among the Indians that the Virgin's Feast was to be celebrated at Little Crow's village; the time was mentioned, and all who chose to attend were welcome to do so.

The feast was prepared in the neighborhood of the village. The boiled corn and venison were put in wooden bowls, and the Indians sat round, forming a ring. Those who were to partake of the feast were dressed in their gayest apparel; their long hair plaited and falling over their shoulders. Those who are conscious of error dare not approach the feast, for it is a part of the ceremony that they shall be exposed by any one present. Neither rank nor beauty must interpose to prevent the punishment. Nay, sometimes the power of innocence and virtue itself is not sufficient to guard the Dahcotah maiden from disgrace.

And was Wenona unworthy? The white snow that covered the hills was not more pure than she. But Red Cloud cared not for that. She had refused to be the light of his wigwam, and thus was he avenged.

Wenona advanced with the maidens of the village. Who can describe her terror and dismay when Red Cloud advances and leads her from the sacred ring? To whom shall the maiden turn for help? To her brother? his angry countenance speaks not of comfort. Her friends? the smile of scorn is on their lips. Her lover? he has left the feast.

Her determination is soon made; her form is seen as she flies to the woods. Death is the refuge of the friendless and the wronged.

But as night came on the relatives of Wenona wondered that she did not return. They sought her, and they found her lifeless body; the knife was deep in her heart. She knew she was innocent, but what did that avail her? She was accused by a warrior, and who would believe her if she denied the charge?

And why condemn her that she deprived herself of life, which she deemed worthless, when embittered by unmerited contempt. She knew not that G.o.d has said, "Thou shall do no murder." The command had never sounded in her ears.

She trusted to find a home in the House of Spirits--she may have found a heaven in the mercy of G.o.d.

The fever of the following summer spared neither age nor youth, and Red Cloud was its first victim. As the dying Harpstenah saw his body carried out to be placed upon the scaffold--"He is dead," she cried, "and Wenona was innocent! He hated her because she slighted him; I hated her because she was happy. He had his revenge, and I mine; but Wenona was falsely accused, and I told him to do it!" and the eyes were closed--the voice was hushed in death.

Wenona was innocent; and when the Virgin's Feast shall be celebrated in her native village again, how will the maidens tremble as they approach the sacred ring! Can they forget the fate of their beautiful companion?

And when the breath of summer warms to life the prairie flowers--when the long gra.s.s shall wave under the scaffold where repose the mortal remains of the chief's sister--how often will the Dahcotah maidens draw near to contrast the meanness, the treachery, the falsehood of Red Cloud, with the constancy, devotion, and firmness of Wenona!

THE DAHCOTAH CONVERT.

"Tell me," said, Hiatu-we-noken-chah, or 'woman of the night,' "the Great Spirit whom you have taught me to fear, why has he made the white woman rich and happy, and the Dahcotah poor and miserable?" She spoke with bitterness when she remembered the years of sorrow that had made up the sum of her existence.

But how with the missionary's wife? had her life been one bright dream--had her days been always full of gladness--her nights quiet and free from care? Had she never longed for the time of repose, that darkness might cover her as with a mantle--and when 'sleep forsook the wretched,' did she not pray for the breaking of the day, that she might again forget all in the performance of the duties of her station? Could it be that the Creator had balanced the happiness of one portion of his children against the wretchedness of the rest? Let her story answer.

Her home is now among the forests of the west. As a child she would tremble when she heard of the savage whose only happiness was in shedding the blood of his fellow creatures. The name of an "Indian" when uttered by her nurse would check the boisterous gayety of the day or the tedious restlessness of the night.

As she gathered flowers on the pleasant banks of the Sciota, would it not have brought paleness to her cheek to have whispered her that not many years would pa.s.s over her, before she would be far away from the scenes of her youth?

And as she uttered the marriage vow, how little did she think that soon would her broken spirit devote time, energies, life, to the good of others; as an act of duty and, but for the faith of the Christian, of despair. For several years she only wept with others when they sorrowed; fair children followed her footsteps, and it was happiness to guide their voices, as they, like the morning stars, sang together; or to listen to their evening prayer as they folded their hands in childlike devotion ere they slept.

And when the father returned from beside the bed of death, where his skill could no longer alleviate the parting agonies of the sufferer: how would he hasten to look upon the happy faces of his children, in order to forget the scene he had just witnessed. But, man of G.o.d as he was, there was not always peace in his soul; yet none could see that he had cause for care. He was followed by the blessings of those who were ready to perish. He essayed to make the sinner repent, and to turn the thoughts of the dying to Him who suffered death on the cross.

But for months the voice of the Spirit spake to his heart; he could not forget the words--"Go to the wretched Dahcotahs, their bodies are suffering, and their souls, immortal like thine, are peris.h.i.+ng. Soothe their temporal cares, and more, tell them the triumphs of the Redeemer's love."

But it was hard to give up friends, and all the comforts with which he was surrounded: to subject his wife to the hards.h.i.+ps of a life in the wilderness, to deprive his children of the advantages of education and good influences, and instead--to show them life as it is with those who know not G.o.d. But the voice said, "Remember the Dahcotahs." Vainly did he struggle with the conflict of duty against inclination.

The time has come when the parents must weep for themselves. No longer do the feet of their children tread among the flowers; fever has paralyzed their strength, and vainly does the mother call upon the child, whose eyes wander in delirium, who knows not her voice from a stranger's. Nor does the Destroyer depart when one has sunk into a sleep from which there is no awakening until the morn of the resurrection. He claims another, and who shall resist that claim!

As the father looks upon the still forms of his children, as he sees the compressed lips, the closed eyes of the beings who were but a few days ago full of life and happiness, the iron enters his soul; but as the Christian remembers who has afflicted him, his spirit rises above his sorrow. Nor is there now any obstacle between him and the path of duty.

The one child that remains must be put in charge of those who will care for her, and he will go where G.o.d directs.

But will the mother give up the last of her children? it matters not now where she lives, but she must part with husband or child! Self has no part in her schemes; secure in her trust in G.o.d she yields up her child to her friend, and listens not to the suggestions of those who would induce her to remain where she would still enjoy the comforts of life.

Nothing should separate her from her husband. "Entreat me not to leave thee; where thou goest I will go, where thou diest I will die, and there will I be buried."

And as the Dahcotah woman inquires of the justice of G.o.d, the faces of her children rise up before her--first in health, with bright eyes and lips parted with smiles, and then as she last saw them--their hands white to transparency, the hue of death upon their features; the shrouds, the little coffins, the cold lips, as she pressed them for the last time.

The Dahcotah looked in astonishment at the grief which for a few moments overcame the usual calmness of her kind friend; and as she wondered why, like her, she should shed bitter tears, she heard herself thus addressed--

"Do not think that you alone have been unhappy. G.o.d afflicts all his children. There is not a spot on the earth which is secure from sorrow.

Have I not told you why? This world is not your home or mine. Soon will our bodies lie down in the earth--and we would forget this, if we were always happy.

"And you should not complain though your sorrows have been great. Do not forget the crown of thorns which pressed the brow of the Saviour, the cruel nails that pierced his hands and feet, the desertion of his friends, his fear that G.o.d his Father had forsaken him. And remember that after death the power of those who hated him ceased; the grave received but could not keep his body. He rose from the dead, and went to Heaven, where he has prepared a place for all who love him; for me and mine, I trust, and for you too, if you are careful to please him by serving him yourself, and by endeavoring to induce your friends to give up their foolish and wicked superst.i.tions, and to wors.h.i.+p the true G.o.d who made all things."