Indeed the cause of her death showed that she could not bear contradiction.

There was a war party formed to attack the Chippeways, and the "Eagle that Screams as she Flies," (for that was the name of Sacred Wind's grandmother) wanted to go along.

She wished to mutilate the bodies after they were scalped. Yes, though near ninety years old, she would go through all the fatigues of a march of three hundred miles, and think it nothing, if she could be repaid by tearing the heart from one Chippeway child.

There were, however, two old squaws who had applied first, and the Screaming Eagle was rejected.

There were no bounds to her pa.s.sion. She attempted to hang herself and was cut down; she made the village resound with her lamentations; she called upon all the spirits of the lakes, rivers, and prairies, to torment the war party; nothing would pacify her. Two days after the war party left, the Eagle that Screams as she Flies expired, in a fit of rage!

When the war-party returned, the Shield was the observed of all observers; he had taken two scalps.

Sacred Wind sighed to think he was her cousin. How could she help loving the warrior who had returned the bravest in the battle?

The Swan saw that she loved in vain. She knew that she loved the Shield more in absence; why then hope that he would forget Sacred Wind when he saw her no more?

When she saw him enter the village, her heart beat fast with emotion; she pressed her hand upon it, but could not still its tumult. "He has come," she said to herself, "but will his eye seek mine? will he tell _me_ that the time has been long since he saw me woman he loved?"

She follows his footsteps--she watches his every glance, as he meets his relations. Alas! for the Swan, the wounded bird feels not so acutely the arrow that pierces, as she that look of recognition between the cousins!

But the unhappy girl was roused from a sense of her griefs, to a recollection of her wrongs. With all the impetuosity of a loving heart, she thought she had a right to the affections of the Shield. As the water reflected her features, so should his heart give back the devoted love of hers.

But while she lived, she was determined to bring sorrow upon her rival; she would not "sing in dying." That very evening did she repeat to the family of Sacred Wind the conversation she had overheard, adding that the love of the cousins was the true cause of Sacred Wind's refusing to marry.

Time would fail me to tell of the consequent sufferings of Sacred Wind.

She was scolded and watched, shamed, and even beaten. The medicine men threatened her with all their powers; no punishment was severe enough for the Dahcotah who would thus transgress the laws of their nation.

The Shield was proof against the machinations of his enemies, for he was a medicine man, and could counteract all the spells that were exerted against him. Sacred Wind bore everything in patience but the sight of the Bear. She had been bought and sold, over and over again; and the fear of her killing herself was the only reason why her friends did not force her to marry.

One evening she was missing, and the cries of her mother broke upon the silence of night; canoes were flying across the water; friends were wandering in the woods, all seeking the body of the girl.

But she was not to be found in the river, or in the woods. Sacred Wind was not dead, she was only married.

She was safe in the next village, telling the Shield how much she loved him, and how cordially she hated the Bear; and although she trembled when she spoke of the medicine men, her husband only laughed at her fears, telling her, that now that she was his wife, she need fear nothing.

But where was the Swan? Her friends were a.s.sisting, in the search for Sacred Wind. The father had forgotten his child, the brother his sister.

And the mother, who would have first missed her, had gone long ago, to the land of spirits.

The Swan had known of the flight of the lovers--she watched them as their canoe pa.s.sed away, until it became a speck in the distance, and in another moment the waters closed over her.

Thus were strangely blended marriage and death. The Swan feared not to take her own life. Sacred Wind, with a n.o.bler courage, a more devoted love, broke through the customs of her nation, laid aside the superst.i.tions of the tribe, and has thus identified her courage with the name of her native village.

"THE DAHCOTAH BRIDE."

The valley of the Upper Mississippi presents many attractions to the reflecting mind, apart from the admiration excited by its natural beauty. It is at once an old country and a new--the home of a people who are rapidly pa.s.sing away--and of a nation whose strength is ever advancing. The white man treads upon the footsteps of the Dahcotah--the war dance of the warrior gives place to the march of civilization--and the saw-mill is heard where but a few years ago were sung the deeds of the Dahcotah braves.

Years ago, the Dahcotah hunted where the Mississippi takes its rise--the tribe claiming the country as far south as St. Louis. But difficulties with the neighboring tribes have diminished their numbers and driven them farther north and west; the white people have needed their lands, and their course is onward. How will it end? Will this powerful tribe cease to be a nation on the earth? Will their mysterious origin never be ascertained? And must their religion and superst.i.tions, their customs and feasts pa.s.s away from memory as if they had never been?

Who can look upon them without interest? hardly the philosopher--surely not the Christian. The image of G.o.d is defaced in the hearts of the savage. Cain-like does the child of the forest put forth his hand and stain it with a brother's blood. But are there no deeds of darkness done in our own favored land?

But the country of the Dahcotah,--let it be new to those who fly at the beckon of gain--who would speculate in the blood of their fellow-creatures, who for gold would, aye do, sell their own souls,--it is an old country to me. What say the boundless prairies? how many generations have roamed over them? when did the buffalo first yield to the arrow of the hunter? And look at the worn bases of the rocks that are washed by the Father of waters. Hear the Dahcotah maiden as she tells of the lover's leap--and the warrior as he boasts of the victories of his forefathers over his enemies, long, long before the hated white man had intruded upon their lands, or taught them the fatal secret of intoxicating drink.

The Dahcotahs feel their own weakness--they know they cannot contend with the power of the white man. Yet there are times when the pa.s.sion and vehemence of the warriors in the neighborhood of Fort Snelling can hardly be brought to yield to the necessity of control; and were there a possibility of success, how soon would the pipe of peace be thrown aside, and the yell and whoop of war be heard instead! And who would blame them? Has not the blood of our bravest and best been poured out like water for a small portion of a country--when the whole could never make up for the loss sustained by one desolate widow or fatherless child?

The sky was without a cloud when the sun rose on the Mississippi. The morning mists pa.s.sed slowly away as if they loved to linger round the hills. Pilot k.n.o.b rose above them, proud to be the burial place of her warrior children, while on the opposite side of the Mine Soto [Footnote: Mine Soto, or Whitish Water, the name that the Sioux give to the St.

Peter's River. The mud or clay in the water has a whitish look.] the frowning walls of Fort Snelling; told of the power of their enemies. Not a breath disturbed the repose of nature, till the voice of the song birds rose in harmony singing the praise of the Creator.

But a few hours have pa.s.sed away, and how changed the scene. Numbers of canoes are seen rapidly pa.s.sing over the waters, and the angry savages that spring from them as hastily ascending the hill. From the gates of the fort, hundreds of Indians are seen collecting from every direction, and all approaching the house of the interpreter. We will follow them.

Few have witnessed so wild a scene. The house of the interpreter employed by government is near the fort, and all around it were a.s.sembled the excited Indians. In front of the house is a piazza, and on it lay the body of a young Dahcotah; his black hair plaited, and falling over his swarthy face. The closed eye and compressed lips proclaimed the presence of death. Life had but recently yielded to the sway of the stern conqueror. A few hours ago Beloved Hail had eaten and drank on the very spot where his body now reposed.

Bending over his head is his wife; tears fall like rain from her eyes; and as grief has again overcome her efforts at composure, see how she plunges her knife into her arm: and as the warm blood flows from the wound calls upon the husband of her youth!

"My son! my son!" bursts from the lips of his aged mother, who weeps at his feet; while her bleeding limbs bear witness to the wounds which she had inflicted upon herself in the agony of her soul. Nor are these the only mourners. A crowd of friends are weeping round his body. But the mother has turned to the warriors as they press through the crowd; tears enough have been shed, it is time to think of revenge. "Look at your friend," she says, "look how heavily lies the strong arm, and see, he is still, though his wife and aged mother call upon him. Who has done this?

who has killed the brave warrior? bring me the murderer, that I may cut him on pieces."

It needed not to call upon the warriors who stood around. They were excited enough. Bad Hail stood near, his eyes bloodshot with rage, his lip quivering, and every trembling limb telling of the tempest within.

Shah-co-pee, the orator of the Dahcotahs, and "The Nest," their most famous hunter; the tall form of the aged chief "Man in the cloud" leaned against the railing, his sober countenance strangely contrasting with the fiend-like look of his wife; Grey Iron and Little Hill, with brave after brave, all crying vengeance to the foe, death to the Chippeway!

CHAPTER II.

But yesterday the Dahcotahs and Chippeways, foes from time immemorial, feasted and danced together, for there was peace between them. They had promised to bury the hatchet; the Chippeways danced near the fort, and the Dahcotahs presented them with blankets and pipes, guns and powder, and all that the savage deems valuable. Afterwards, the Dahcotahs danced, and the generous Chippeways exceeded them in the number and value of their gifts. As evening approached, the bands mingled their amus.e.m.e.nts--together they contended in the foot-race, or, stretching themselves upon the gra.s.s, played at checkers.

The Chippeways had paid their annual visit of friendship at Fort Snelling, and, having spent their time happily, they were about to return to their homes. Their wise men said they rejoiced that nothing had occurred to disturb the harmony of the two tribes. But their vicinity to the Fort prevented any outbreak; had there been no such restraint upon their actions, each would have sought the life of his deadly foe.

"Hole in the Day" was the chief of the Chippeways. He owed his station to his own merit; his bravery and firmness had won the respect and admiration of the tribe when he was but a warrior, and they exalted him to the honor of being their chief. Deeds of blood marked his course, yet were his manners gentle and his voice low. There was a dignity and a courtesy about his every action that would have well befitted a courtier.

He watched with interest the trials of strength between the young men of his own tribe and the Dahcotahs. When the latter celebrated one of their national feasts, when they ate the heart of the dog while it was warm with life, just torn from the animal, with what contempt did he gaze upon them!

[Ill.u.s.tration: FALLS OF ST. ANTHONY.]

The amus.e.m.e.nts of the dog feast, or dance, have closed, and the Chippeway chief has signified to his warriors that they were to return home on the following day. He expressed a wish to see several of the chiefs of the Dahcotahs, and a meeting having been obtained, he thus addressed them--

"Warriors! it has been the wish of our great father that we should be friends; blood enough has been shed on both sides. But even if we preferred to continue at war, we must do as our great father says. The Indian's glory is pa.s.sing away; they are as the setting sun; while the white man is as the sun rising in all his power. We are the falling leaves; the whites are the powerful horses that trample them under foot.

We are about to return home, and it is well that nothing has happened to occasion strife between us. But I wish you to know that there are two young men among us who do not belong to my band. They are pillagers, belonging to another band, and they may be troublesome. I wish you to tell your young men of this, that they may be on their guard."

After smoking together, the chiefs separated. "Hole in the Day" having thus done all that he deemed proper, returned with his warriors to his teepee.

Early in the morning the Chippeways encamped near St. Anthony's falls; the women took upon themselves all the fatigue and labor of the journey, the men carrying only the implements of war and hunting. The Chippeway chief was the husband of three wives, who were sisters; and, strange to say, when an Indian fancies more than one wife, he is fortunate if he can obtain sisters, for they generally live in harmony, while wives who are not related are constantly quarreling; and the husband does not often interfere, even if words are changed to blows.

In the mean time, the two pillagers were lurking about; now remaining a short time with the camp of the Chippeways, now absenting themselves for a day or two. But while the Chippeways were preparing to leave the Falls, the pillagers were in the neighborhood of Fort Snelling. They had accompanied Hole in the Day's band, with the determination of killing an enemy. The ancient feud still rankled in their hearts; as yet they had had no opportunity of satisfying their thirst for blood; but on this morning they were concealed in the bushes, when Red Boy and Beloved Hail, two Dahcotahs, were pa.s.sing on horseback. It was but a moment--and the deed was done. Both the Chippeways fired, and Beloved Hail fell.

Red Boy was wounded, but not badly; he hurried in to tell the sad news, and the two Chippeways were soon out of the power of their enemies. They fled, it is supposed, to Missouri.