Pre-natal Influence. Early Religious Teaching. The Function of the Aged.  Woman, Marriage and the Family. Loyalty, Hospitality, Friendship.
  THE American Indian was an individualist in religion as in war. He had  neither a national army nor an organized church. There was no priest to  assume responsibility for another's soul. That is, we believed, the supreme  duty of the parent, who only was permitted to claim in some degree the  priestly office and function, since it is his creative and protecting power  which alone approaches the solemn function of Deity.
  The Indian was a religious man from his mother's womb. From the moment of  her recognition of the fact of conception to the end of the second year of  life, which was the ordinary duration of lactation, it was supposed by us  that the mother's spiritual influence counted for most. Her attitude and  secret meditations must be such as to instill into the receptive soul of the  unborn child the love of the "Creatoe" and a sense of brotherhood with  all creation. Silence and isolation are the rule of life for the expectant  mother. She wanders prayerful in the stillness of great woods, or on the  bosom of the untrodden prairie, and to her poetic mind the immanent birth of  her child prefigures the advent of a master-man -- a hero, or the mother of  heroes -- a thought conceived in the virgin breast of primeval nature, and  dreamed out in a hush that is only broken by the sighing of the pine tree or  the thrilling orchestra of a distant waterfall.
  And when the day of days in her life dawns -- the day in which there is to  be a new life, the miracle of whose making has been intrusted to her, she  seeks no human aid. She has been trained and prepared in body and mind for  this her holiest duty, ever since she can remember. The ordeal is best met  alone, where no curious or pitying eyes embarrass her; where all nature says  to her spirit: "'Tis love! 'tis love! the fulfilling of life!" When a sacred  voice comes to her out of the silence, and a pair of eyes open upon her in  the wilderness, she knows with joy that she has borne well her part in the  great song of creation!
  Presently she returns to the camp, carrying the mysterious, the holy, the  dearest bundle! She feels the endearing warmth of it and hears its soft  breathing. It is still a part of herself, since both are nourished by the  same mouthful, and no look of a lover could be sweeter than its deep,  trusting gaze.
  She continues her spiritual teaching, at first silently -- a mere pointing  of the index finger to nature; then in whispered songs, bird-like, at  morning and evening. To her and to the child the birds are real people, who  live very close to the "Great Mystery"; the murmuring trees breathe His  presence; the falling waters chant His praise.
  If the child should chance to be fretful, the mother raises her hand. "Hush!  hush!" she cautions it tenderly, "the spirits may be disturbed!" She bids it  be still and listen to the silver voice of the aspen, or the clashing  cymbals of the birch; and at night she points to the heavenly, blazed trail,  through nature's galaxy of splendor to nature's God. Silence, love,  reverence, -- this is the trinity of first lessons; and to these she later  adds generosity, courage, and chastity.
  In the old days, our mothers were single-eyed to the trust imposed upon  them; and as a noted chief of our people was wont to say: "Men may slay one  another, but they can never overcome the woman, for in the quietude of her  lap lies the child! You may destroy him once and again, but he issues as  often from that same gentle lap -- a gift of the Great Good to the race, in  which man is only an accomplice!"
  This wild mother has not only the experience of her mother and grandmother,  and the accepted rules of her people for a guide, but she humbly seeks to  learn a lesson from ants, bees, spiders, beavers, and badgers. She studies  the family life of the birds, so exquisite in its emotional intensity and  its patient devotion, until she seems to feel the universal mother-heart  beating in her own breast. In due time the child takes of his own accord the  attitude of prayer, and speaks reverently of the Powers. He thinks that he  is a blood brother to all living creatures, and the storm wind is to him a  messenger of the "Great Mystery."
  At the age of about eight years, if he is a boy, she turns him over to his  father for more Spartan training. If a girl, she is from this time much  under the guardianship of her grandmother, who is considered the most  dignified protector for the maiden. Indeed, the distinctive work of both  grandparents is that of acquainting the youth with the national traditions  and beliefs. It is reserved for them to repeat the time-hallowed tales with  dignity and authority, so as to lead him into his inheritance in the  stored-up wisdom and experience the race. The old are dedicated to the  service of the young, as their teachers and advisers, and the young in turn  regard them with love and reverence.
  Our old age was in some respects the happiest period of life. Advancing  years brought with them much freedom, not only from the burden of laborious  and dangerous tasks, but from those restrictions of custom and etiquette  which were religiously observed by all others. No one who is at all  acquainted with the Indian in his home can deny that we are a polite people.  As a rule, the warrior who inspired the greatest terror in the hearts of his  enemies was a man of the most exemplary gentleness, and almost feminine  refinement, among his family and friends. A soft, low voice was considered  an excellent thing in man, as well as in woman! Indeed, the enforced  intimacy of tent life would soon become intolerable, were it not for these  instinctive reserves and delicacies, this unfailing respect for the  established place and possessions of every other member of the family  circle, this habitual quiet, order, and decorum.
  Our people, though capable of strong and durable feeling, were not  demonstrative in their affection at any time, least of all in the presence  of guests or strangers. Only to the aged, who have journeyed far, and are in  a manner exempt from ordinary rules, are permitted some playful  familiarities with children and grandchildren, some plain speaking, even to  harshness and objurgation, from which the others must rigidly refrain. In  short, the old men and women are privileged to say what they please and how  they please, without contradiction, while the hardships and bodily  infirmities that of necessity fall to their lot are softened so far as may  be by universal consideration and attention.
  There was no religious ceremony connected with marriage among us, while on  the other hand the relation between man and woman was regarded as in itself  mysterious and holy. It appears that where marriage is solemnized by the  church and blessed by the priest, it may at the same time be surrounded with  customs and ideas of a frivolous, superficial, and even prurient character.  We believed that two who love should be united in secret, before the public  acknowledgment of their union, and should taste their apotheosis with  nature. The betrothal might or might not be discussed and approved by the  parents, but in either case it was customary for the young pair to disappear  into the wilderness, there to pass some days or weeks in perfect seclusion  and dual solitude, afterward returning to the village as man and wife. An  exchange of presents and entertainments betweens the two families usually  followed, but the nuptial blessing was given by the High Priest of God, the  most reverend and holy Nature.
  The family was not only the social unit, but also the unit of government  clan is nothing more than a larger family, with its patriarchal chief as the  natural head, and the union of several clans by inter-marriage and voluntary  connection constitutes the tribe. The very name of our tribe, Dakota, means  Allied People. The remoter degrees of kinship were fully recognized, and  that not as a matter of form only: first cousins were known as brothers and  sisters; the name of "cousin" constituted binding claim, and our rigid  morality forbade marriage between cousins in any known degree, or in other  words within the clan.
  The household proper consisted of a man with one or more wives and their  children, all of whom dwelt amicably together, often under one roof,  although some men of rank and position provided a separate lodge for each  wife. There were, indeed, few plural marriages except among the older and  leading men, and plural wives were usually, though not necessarily, sisters.  A marriage might honorably be dissolved for cause, but there was very little  infidelity or immorality, either open or secret.
  It has been said that the position of woman is the test of civilization, and  that of our women was secure. In them was vested our standard of morals and  the purity of our blood. The wife did not take the name of her husband nor  enter his clan, and the children belonged to the clan of the mother. All of  the family property was held by her, descent was traced in the maternal  line, and the honor of the house was in her hands. Modesty was her chief  adornment; hence the younger women were usually silent and retiring: but a  woman who had attained to ripeness of years and wisdom, or who had displayed  notable courage in some emergency, was sometimes invited to a seat in the  council.
  Thus she ruled undisputed within her own domain, and was to us a tower of  moral and spiritual strength, until the coming of the border white man, the  soldier and trader, who with strong drink overthrew the honor of the man,  and through his power over a worthless husband purchased the virtue of his  wife or his daughter. When she fell, the whole race fell with her.
  Before this calamity came upon us, you could not find anywhere a happier  home than that created by the Indian woman. There was nothing of the  artificial about her person, and very little disingenuousness in her  character. Her early and consistent training, the definiteness of her  vocation, and, above all, her profoundly religious attitude gave her a  strength and poise that could not be overcome by any ordinary misfortune.
  Indian names were either characteristic nicknames given in a playful spirit,  deed names, birth names, or such as have a religious and symbolic meaning .  It has been said that when a child is born, some accident or unusual  appearance determines his name. This is sometimes the case, but is not the  rule. A man of forcible character, with a fine war record, usually bears the  name of the buffalo or bear, lightning or some dread natural force. Another  of more peaceful nature may be called Swift Bird or Blue Sky. A woman's name  usually suggested something about the home, often with the adjective  "pretty" or "good," and a feminine termination. Names of any dignity or  importance must be conferred by the old men, and especially so if they have  any spiritual significance; as Sacred Cloud, Mysterious Night, Spirit Woman,  and the like. Such a name was sometimes borne by three generations, but each  individual must prove that he is worthy of it.
  In the life of the Indian there was only one inevitable duty, -- the duty of  prayer -- the daily recognition of the Unseen and Eternal. His daily  devotions were more necessary to him than daily food. He wakes at daybreak,  puts on his moccasins and steps down to the water's edge. Here he throws  handfuls of clear, cold water into his face, or plunges in bodily. After the  bath, he stands erect before the advancing dawn, facing the sun as it dances  upon the horizon, and offers his unspoken orison. His mate may precede or  follow him in his devotions, but never accompanies him. Each soul must meet  the morning sun, the new, sweet earth, and the Great Silence alone!
  Whenever, in the course of the daily hunt, the red hunter comes upon a scene  that is strikingly beautiful and sublime -- a black thunder-cloud with the  rainbow's glowing arch above the mountain; a white waterfall in the heart of  a green gorge; a vast prairie tinged with the blood-red of sunset -- he  pauses for an instant in the attitude of worship. He sees no need for  setting apart one day in seven as a holy day, since to him all days are  God's.
  Every act of his life is, in a very real sense, a religious act. He  recognizes the spirit in all creation, and believes that he draws from it  spiritual power. His respect for the immortal part of the animal, his  brother, often leads him so far as to lay out the body of his game in state  and decorate the head with symbolic paint or feathers. Then he stands before  it in the prayer attitude, holding up the filled pipe, in token that he has  freed with honor the spirit of his brother, whose body his need compelled  him to take to sustain his own life.
  When food is taken, the woman murmurs a "grace" as she lowers the kettle; an  act so softly and unobtrusively performed that one who does not know the  custom usually fails to catch the whisper: "Spirit, partake!" As her husband  receives the bowl or plate, he likewise murmurs his invocation to the  spirit. When he becomes an old man, he loves to make a notable effort to  prove his gratitude. He cuts off the choicest morsel of the meat and casts  it into the fire -- the purest and most ethereal element.
  The hospitality of the wigwam is only limited by the institution of war.  Yet, if an enemy should honor us with a call, his trust will not be  misplaced, and he will go away convinced that he has met with a royal host!  Our honor is the guarantee for his safety, so long as he is within the camp.
  Friendship is held to be the severest test of character. It is easy, we  think, to be loyal to family and clan, whose blood is in our own veins. Love  between man and woman is founded on the mating instinct and is not free from  desire and self-seeking. But to have a friend, and to be true under any and  all trials, is the mark of a man!
  The highest type of friendship is the relation of "brother-friend" or  "life-and-death friend." This bond is between man and man, is usually formed  in early youth, and can only be broken by death. It is the essence of  comradeship and fraternal love, without thought of pleasure or gain, but  rather for moral support and inspiration. Each is vowed to die for the  other, if need be, and nothing denied the brother-friend, but neither is  anything required that is not in accord with the highest conceptions of the  Indian mind.
 
 
 
 
 
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