When the tree flowered : $b An authentic tale of the old Sioux worldNeihardt, John G.
History
When the tree flowered : $b An authentic tale of the old Sioux world
Neihardt, John G.
Historical fiction; Oglala Indians -- Fiction
When he had filled and lighted his pipe, he drew a long draft and
passed the pipe to me. “_Dho_,” he said, “that was a great victory; but
you see us now. I do not like to think of it. We all went away from
there towards the mountains, and there was feasting and dancing, for
we had killed many enemies. But my heart did not sing when I danced.
High Horse was my brother-friend, and he was waiting for me yonder in
the world of spirits.” For a while the old man gazed in silence at the
ground. Then he squinted at me with a pucker of suppressed amusement
about his eyes, and said, “Maybe he will not know me when I come at
last, bent low and walking on three legs.” He chuckled and was still
again.
“But what about Tashina, Grandfather?” I asked, and had to wait for an
answer.
“I saw her at the sun dance on the Rosebud,” he said. “She looked at
me again the way she used to do, and I was glad she was not angry with
me any more. But my head was full of war and great deeds to be done. I
saw her once again after we had rubbed out Long Hair and his horseback
soldiers on the hill. But then my heart was sick because of High Horse.
It was the way I told you. There was a road I did not see until I had
walked across the world.
“It was a victory, but now I can see that it was the end of the old
days. The Wasichus were coming and coming, more and more Wasichus,
and the bison would soon be gone. While we were camped near the
mountains some of our people began to leave us, one _iglaka_, two,
three _iglakas_ at a time. They were going back to the agencies. We
heard of many soldiers getting ready on Goose Creek south of us, many
soldiers getting ready on the Yellowstone north of us. They would come
together and surround us. So in the Moon of Black Cherries [August]
the scattering of the people began. They always scattered in the fall
after they had come together for the sun dance. But that time it was
different. I did not know then that the hoop was breaking and would
never come together again. When we broke camp, most of us started
north together. Some were talking of Grandmother’s Land [Canada]. They
said if we went there, the soldiers could not chase us any more, and
Grandmother England [Queen Victoria] was kind to our relatives who were
living in her country. But many said they did not want to die in a
strange land far from home.
“The prairie burned behind us, wide as the sky. This made it hard for
the soldiers’ horses to follow. We turned east towards Mini Shoshay
[the Missouri River]. Then the rain came. Day and night it rained until
the mud was deep and our horses could hardly pull the drags. There were
still many, many of us, many, many horses; but some people were always
leaving us--one _iglaka_, two, three _iglakas_, maybe a big party. Some
would hunt awhile, but when they had made winter meat, they would go to
the agencies.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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