Part 7

There was dancing and feasting at night, and joy at the presents he lavished. All the maidens were wild with delight with the flaming red robes and the ribbons, With the beads and the trinkets untold, and the fair, bearded face of the giver; And glad were they all to behold the friends from the Land of the Sunrise. But one stood apart from the rest --the queenly and peerless Winona, Intently regarding the guest --hardly heeding the robes and the ribbons, Whom the White Chief beholding admired, and straightway he spread on her shoulders A lily-red robe and attired, with necklet and ribbons, the maiden. The red lilies bloomed in her face, and her glad eyes gave thanks to the giver, And forth from her teepee apace she brought him the robe and the missal Of the father--poor Renè Menard; and related the tale of the "Black Robe." She spoke of the sacred regard he inspired in the hearts of Dakotas; That she buried his bones with her kin, in the mound by the Cave of the Council; That she treasured and wrapt in the skin of the red-deer his robe and his prayer-book-- "Till his brothers should come from the East --from the land of the far Hochelága, To smoke with the braves at the feast, on the shores of the Loud-laughing Waters. For the "Black Robe" spake much of his youth and his friends in the Land of the Sunrise; It was then as a dream, now in truth, I behold them, and not in a vision." But more spake her blushes, I ween, and her eyes full of language unspoken, As she turned with the grace of a queen, and carried her gifts to the teepee.

Far away from his beautiful France --from his home in the city of Lyons, A noble youth full of romance, with a Norman heart big with adventure, In the new world a wanderer, by chance, DuLuth sought the wild Huron forests. But afar by the vale of the Rhone, the winding and musical river, And the vine-covered hills of the Saône, the heart of the wanderer lingered,-- 'Mid the vineyards and mulberry trees, and the fair fields of corn and of clover That rippled and waved in the breeze, while the honey-bees hummed in the blossoms For there, where the impetuous Rhone, leaping down from the Switzerland mountains, And the silver-lipped soft flowing Saône, meeting, kiss and commingle together, Down-winding by vineyards and leas, by the orchards of fig trees and olives, To the island-gemmed, sapphire-blue seas of the glorious Greeks and the Romans; Aye, there, on the vine covered shore, 'mid the mulberry trees and the olives, Dwelt his blue-eyed and beautiful Flore, with her hair like a wheat field at harvest, All rippled and tossed by the breeze, and her cheeks like the glow of the morning, Far away o'er the emerald seas, ere the sun lifts his brow from the billows, Or the red-clover fields when the bees, singing sip the sweet cups of the blossoms. Wherever he wandered --alone in the heart of the wild Huron forests, Or cruising the rivers unknown to the land of the Crees or Dakotas-- His heart lingered still on the Rhone, 'mid the mulberry-trees and the vineyards, Fast-fettered and bound by the zone that girdled the robes of his darling.

Till the red Harvest Moon he remained in the vale of the swift Mississippi. The esteem of the warriors he gained, and the love of the dark eyed Winona. He joined in the sports and the chase; with the hunters he followed the bison, And swift were his feet in the race when the red elk they ran on the prairies. At the Game of the Plum-stones he played and he won from the skillfulest players; A feast to Wa'tánka he made, and he danced at the feast of Heyóka. With the flash and the roar of his gun he astonished the fearless Dakotas; They called it the "Máza Wakán" --the mighty, mysterious metal. "'Tis a brother," they said, "of the fire in the talons of dreadful Wakínyan, When he flaps his huge wings in his ire, and shoots his red shafts at Unktéhee."

The Itancan, tall Wazí-kuté, appointed a day for the races. From the red stake that stood by his tee, on the southerly side of the Ha-ha To a stake at the Lake of the Loons --a league and return--was the distance. On the crest of the hills red batons marked the course for the feet of the runners. They gathered from near and afar, to the races and dancing and feasting. Five hundred tall warriors were there from Kapóza and far off Keóza; Remnica, too, furnished a share of the legions that thronged to the races, And a bountiful feast was prepared by the diligent hands of the women, And gaily the multitudes fared in the generous tees of Kathága. The chief of the mystical clan appointed a feast to Unktéhee-- The mystic "Wacípee Wakán" -- at the end of the day and the races. A band of sworn brothers are they, and the secrets of each one are sacred. And death to the lips that betray is the doom of the swarthy avengers, And the son of tall Wazí-kuté was the chief of the mystical order.

Pronounced Ray mne chah--the village of the Mountains situate where Red Wing now stands.

Sacred Dance--The Medicine dance--See description infra.

On an arm of an oak hangs the prize for the swiftest and strongest of runners-- A blanket as red as the skies, when the flames sweep the plains in October. And beside it a strong, polished bow, and a quiver of iron tipped arrows, Which Kapóza's tall chief will bestow on the fleet-footed second that follows. A score of swift-runners are there from the several bands of the nation; And now for the race they prepare, and among them fleet-footed Tamdóka. With the oil of the buck and the bear their sinewy limbs are anointed, For fleet are the feet of the deer and strong are the limbs of the bruin, And long is the course and severe for the swiftest and strongest of runners.

Hark!--the shouts and the braying of drums, and the Babel of tongues and confusion! From his teepee the tall chieftain comes, and Duluth brings a prize for the runners-- A keen hunting-knife from the Seine, horn-handled and mounted with silver. The runners are ranged on the plain, and the Chief waves a flag as a signal, And away like the gray wolves they fly --like the wolves on the trail of the red deer; O'er the hills and the prairie they vie, and strain their strong limbs to the utmost, While high on the hills hangs a cloud of warriors and maidens and mothers, To behold the swift runners, and loud are the cheers and the shouts of the warriors.

Now swift from the lake they return, o'er the emerald hills and the heather; Like grey-hounds they pant and they yearn, and the leader of all is Tamdóka. At his heels flies Hu-pá-hu, the fleet --the pride of the band of Kaóza, A warrior with eagle-winged feet, but his prize is the bow and the quiver. Tamdóka first reaches the post, and his are the knife and the blanket, By the mighty acclaim of the host and award of the chief and the judges. Then proud was the tall warrior's stride, and haughty his look and demeanor; He boasted aloud in his pride, and he scoffed at the rest of the runners. "Behold me, for I am a man! my feet are as swift as the West wind. With the coons and the beavers I ran; but where is the elk or the cabri? Come!--where is the hunter will dare match his feet with the feet of Tamdóka? Let him think of Taté and beware, ere he stake his last robe on the trial." "Ohó! Ho! Hó-héca!" they jeered, for they liked not the boast of the boaster; But to match him no warrior appeared, for his feet wore the wings of the west-wind.

The wings.

A favorite boast of the Dakota braves.

The wind.

About equivalent to Oho--Aha--fudge.

Then forth from the side of the chief stepped DuLuth and he looked on the boaster; "The words of a warrior are brief, --I will run with the brave," said the Frenchman; "But the feet of Tamdóka are tired; abide till the cool of the sunset." All the hunters and maidens admired, for strong were the limbs of the stranger. "Hiwó! Ho!" they shouted and loud rose the cheers of the multitude mingled; And there in the midst of the crowd stood the glad-eyed and blushing Winona.

Hurra there!

Now afar o'er the plains of the west walked the sun at the end of his journey, And forth came the brave and the guest, at the tap of the drum, for the trial. Like a forest of larches the hordes were gathered to witness the contest; As loud is the drums were their words and they roared like the roar of the Ha-ha. For some for Tamdóka contend, and some for the fair, bearded stranger, And the betting runs high to the end, with the skins of the bison and beaver. A wife of tall Wazi-kuté --the mother of boastful Tamdóka-- Brought her handsomest robe from the tee, with a vaunting and loud proclamation: She would stake her last robe on her son who, she boasted, was fleet as the Cábri And the tall, tawny chieftain looked on, approving the boast of the mother. Then fleet as the feet of a fawn to her lodge ran the dark eyed Winona, She brought and she staked on the lawn, by the side of the robe of the boaster, The lily-red mantle Duluth, with his own hands, had laid on her shoulders. "Tamdóka is swift, but forsooth, the tongue of his mother is swifter," She said, and her face was aflame with the red of the rose and the lily, And loud was the roar of acclaim; but dark was the face of Tamdóka.

They strip for the race and prepare, --DuLuth in his breeches and leggins; And the brown, curling locks of his hair downward droop to his bare, brawny shoulders, And his face wears a smile debonair, as he tightens his red sash around him; But stripped to the moccasins bare, save the belt and the breech-clout of buckskin, Stands the haughty Tamdóka aware that the eyes of the warriors admire him; For his arms are the arms of a bear and his legs are the legs of a panther.

The drum beats,--the chief waves the flag, and away on the course speed the runners, And away leads the brave like a stag, --like a hound on his track flies the Frenchman; And away haste the hunters, once more, to the hills for a view to the lake-side, And the dark-swarming hill-tops, they roar with the storm of loud voices commingled. Far away o'er the prairie they fly, and still in the lead is Tamdóka, But the feet of his rival are nigh, and slowly he gains on the hunter. Now they turn on the post at the lake, --now they run full abreast on the home-stretch; Side by side they contend for the stake, for a long mile or more on the prairie. They strain like a stag and a hound, when the swift river gleams through the thicket, And the horns of the rulers resound, winding shrill through the depths of the forest. But behold!--at full length on the ground falls the fleet-footed Frenchman abruptly. And away with a whoop and a bound, springs the eager, exulting Tamdóka. Long and loud on the hills is the shout of his swarthy admirers and backers; "But the race is not won till it's out," said DuLuth, to himself as he gathered, With a frown on his face, for the foot of the wily Tamdóka had tripped him. Far ahead ran the brave on the route, and turning he boasted exultant. Like spurs to the steed to DuLuth were the jeers and the taunts of the boaster; Indignant was he and red wroth, at the trick of the runner dishonest; And away like a whirlwind he speeds --like a hurricane mad from the mountains; He gains on Tamdóka,--he leads! --and behold, with the spring of a panther, He leaps to the goal and succeeds, 'mid the roar of the mad acclamation.

Then glad as the robin in May was the voice of Winona exulting; And the crest-fallen brave turned away, and lonely he walked by the river; He glowered as he went and the fire of revenge in his bosom was kindled, But he strove to dissemble his ire, and he whistled alone by the Ha-ha.

THE "WAKAN WACEPEE," OR SACRED DANCE.

Lo the lights in the "Teepee Wakán!" 'tis the night of the Wakán-Wacépee. Round and round walks the chief of the clan, as he rattles the sacred Ta-shá-kay; Long and loud on the Chân-che-ga beat the drummers with magical drumsticks, And the notes of the Chô-tánka greet, like the murmur of winds on the waters. By the friction of white-cedar wood for the feast was a Virgin-fire kindled. They that enter the firm brotherhood first must fast and be cleansed by E-neé-pee; And from foot-sole to crown of the head must they paint with the favorite colors; For Unktéhee likes bands of blood-red, with the stripings of blue intermingled. In the hollow earth, dark and profound, Unktéhee and fiery Wakín-yan Long fought and the terrible sound of the battle was louder than thunder; The mountains were heaved and around were scattered the hills and the boulders, And the vast solid plains of the ground rose and fell like the waves of the ocean. But the god of the waters prevailed. Wakín-yan escaped from the cavern, And long on the mountains he wailed, and his hatred endureth forever.

When Unktéhee had finished the earth, and the beasts and the birds and the fishes, And men at his bidding came forth from the heart of the huge hollow mountains A band chose the god from the hordes, and he said "Ye are sons of Unktéhee; Ye are lords of the beasts and the birds, and the fishes that swim in the waters. But hearken ye now to my words, --let them sound in your bosoms forever. Ye shall honor Unktéhee and hate Wakínyan, the Spirit of Thunder, For the power of Unktéhee is great, and he laughs at the darts of Wakínyan. Ye shall honor the Earth and the Sun, --for they are your father and mother. Let your prayer to the Sun be --Wakán, Até: on-si-má-da oheé-neé And remember the Táku Wakán, all pervading in earth and in ether-- Invisible ever to man, but he dwells in the midst of all matter; Yea, he dwells in the heart of the stone --in the hard granite heart of the boulder; Ye shall call him forever Tunkán --grandfather of all the Dakotas. Ye are men that I choose for my own; ye shall be as a strong band of brothers, Now I give you the magical bone and the magical pouch of the spirits. And these are the laws ye shall heed: Ye shall honor the pouch and the giver. Ye shall walk as twin-brothers; in need, one shall forfeit his life for another. Listen not to the voice of the crow. Hold as sacred the wife of a brother. Strike, and fear not the shaft of the foe, for the soul of the brave is immortal. Slay the warrior in battle, but spare the innocent babe and the mother. Remember a promise;--beware, --let the word of a warrior be sacred. When a stranger arrives at the tee --be he friend of the band or a foeman, Give him food; let your bounty be free; lay a robe for the guest by the lodge-fire; Let him go to his kindred in peace, if the peace-pipe he smoke in the teepee; And so shall your children increase, and your lodges shall laugh with abundance. And long shall ye live in the land, and the spirits of earth and the waters Shall come to your aid, at command, with the power of invisible magic. And at last, when you journey afar --o'er the shining "Wanágee Ta-chán-ku," You shall walk as a red, shining star, in the land of perpetual summer."

"Sacred Spirit, Father have pity on me always"

Riggs' Tahkoo Wakan, p. 90.

Slander.

All the night in the teepee they sang, and they danced to the mighty Unktéhee, While the loud-braying Chán-che-ga rang and the shrill-piping flute and the rattle, Till Anpétuwee rose in the east --from the couch of the blushing Han-nân-na. And then at the dance and the feast sang the song of Unktéhee in chorus:

"Wa-dú-ta o-hna mi-ká-ge! Wa-dú-ta o-hná mi-ká-ge! Mini-yâta ité wakândè makù, Atè wakán--Tunkánsidán,

Tunkânsidán pejihúta wakán Micâgè--he Wicâgè! Miniyáta ité wakándé makú. Taukánsidán ite, nápè dú-win-ta woo, Wahutôpa wan yúha, nápè dú-win-ta too."