The Indian: On the Battle-Field and in the WigwamFrost, John
History
The Indian: On the Battle-Field and in the Wigwam
Frost, John
Indians of North America
I am the White Buffalo’s Hair--and
am the son of my father.”
It happened on this memorable day about noon, that the steamboat Yellow
Stone, on her first trip up the Missouri river, approached and landed at
the Mandan village. I was lucky enough to be a passenger on this boat,
and helped to fire a salute of twenty guns of twelve pounds calibre,
when we first came in sight of the village, some three or four miles
below. These guns introduced a new sound into this strange country,
which the Mandans first supposed to be thunder; and the young man upon
the lodge, who turned it to good account, was gathering fame in rounds
of applause, which were repeated and echoed through the whole village;
all eyes were centred upon him--chiefs envied him--mother’s hearts
were beating high whilst they were decorating and leading up their
fair daughters to offer him in marriage, on his signal success. The
medicine-men had left the lodge, and came out to bestow upon him the
envied title of “medicine-man, or doctor,” which he had so deservedly
won--wreaths were prepared to decorate his brows, and eagles’ plumes and
calumets were in readiness for him; his friends were all rejoiced--his
enemies wore on their faces a silent gloom and hatred; and his old
sweethearts, who had formerly cast him off, gazed intently upon him, as
they glowed with the burning fever of repentance.
During all this excitement, Wak-a-dah-hahee kept his position, assuming
the most commanding and threatening attitudes; brandishing his shield
in-= the direction of the thunder, although there was not a cloud to
be seen, until he, poor fellow, being elevated above the rest of the
village, espied, to his inexpressible amazement, the steamboat ploughing
its way up the windings of the river below; puffing her steam from her
pipes, and sending forth the thunder from a twelve-pounder on her deck!
The White Buffalo’s Hair stood motionless and turned pale, he looked
awhile, and turned to the chief and to the multitude, and addressed them
with a trembling lip--“My friends, we will get no rain! there are, you
see, no clouds; but my medicine is great--I have brought a thunder
boat! look and see it! the thunder you hear is out of her mouth, and the
lightning which you see is on the waters!”
At this intelligence, the whole village flew to the tops of their
wigwams, or to the bank of the river, from whence the steamer was in
full view, and ploughing along, to their utter dismay and confusion.
In this promiscuous throng of chiefs, doctors, women, children, and
dogs, was mingled Wak-a-dah-ha-hee, (the white buffalo’s hair,) having
descended from his high place to mingle with the frightened throng.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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