A sense of honor pervades all aspects of Indian life.

     Orphans and the aged are invariably cared for, not only by their next of kin, but by the whole clan. The man who is a skillful hunter, and whose wife is alive to her opportunities, makes many feasts, to which he is careful to invite the older men of his clan. He recognizes that they have outlived their period of greatest activity, and now love nothing so well as to eat in good company and live over their past.

     He sets no price upon either his property or his labor. His generosity is limited only by his strength. He reguards it as an honor to be selected for a difficult or dangerous service, and would think it a shame to ask for any other reward, saying, rather: "Let those I serve express their thanks according to their own upbringing and sense of honor."

     He is always ready to undertake the impossible, or to impoverish himself for the sake of a friend.

     Where the other person is reguarded more than the self, duty is sweeter and more inspiring, patriotism more sacred, and friendship is a pure and eternal bond.

 

 

 

     The common impression that the Indian is naturally cruel and revengeful is entirely opposed to the philosophy and training. Warfare was reguarded largely as sort of a game, undertaken in order to develop the manly qualities of our youth.

     It was the coming of white traders with their guns, knives, and whiskey, that roused the revengeful tendencies of the Indian. In our natural state we were neither mean nor deceitful. It is true that men like King Philip, Weatherford, and Little Crow lifted their hands against the white man. But their fathers, Massoit, Attackullakulla, and Wabasha, had held out their hands with gifts.

     In our natural state, it was a degree of risk that brought honor, rather than the number slain, and a brave man would mourn thirty days, with blackened face and loosened hair, for the enemy whose life had been taken.

     And while the spoils of war were allowed, this did not extend to appropriation of the other's territory, nor was there any wish to overthrow another nation and enslave its people.

     Indeed, if an enemy honored us with a call, his trust was not misplaced, and he went away convinced that he had met a royal host! Our honor was the guarantee for his safety, so long as he remained within the camp.

     It was also a point of honor in the old days to treat a captive with kindness. I remember well an instance that occurred when I was very small.

     My uncle brought home two young Ojibwe women who had been captured in a fight between my people and the Ojibwe. Since none of the Sioux war party had been killed, the women received sympathy and were tenderly treated by the Sioux women. They were apparently very happy, although of course they felt deeply the losses sustained at the time of their capture, and they did not fail to show their appreciation of the kindness received at our hands.

     As I recall now the remarks made by one of them at the time of their final release, they appear to me quite remarkable. They lived in my grandmother's family for two years, and were then returned to their people at a great peace council of the two nations. When they were about to leave, the elder of the two sisters embraced my grandmother, and then spoke somewhat as follows:

     "You are a brave woman and a true mother. I understand now why your son bravely conquered our band, and took my sister and myself as captive, I hatted him at first, but now I admire him, because he did just what my father, my brother, or my husband would have done had they opportunity. He did even more. He saved us from the tomahawks of his fellow warriors, and brought us to his home to know a noble and a brave woman.

     I shall never forget your many favors shown to us. But I must go. I belong to my tribe and I shall return to them. I will endeavor to be a true  woman also, and to teach my boys to be generous warriors like your son."

     Her sister chose to remain amoung the sioux all her life, and she married one of our young men.

     "I shall make the Sioux and the Ojibwe," she said, "to be as brothers."

      But perhaps it is Chief Joseph, who conducted that masterly retreat of eleven hundred miles, burbened with his women and children, the old men and  the wounded, who best embodied the honor of warfare. surely he had reason to hate the race who had driven him from his home. Yet it is a fact that while Joseph was in retreat, when he met white visitors and travelers, some of whom were women, he allowed them to pass unharmed, and in at least one instance let them have horses to help them on their way.