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
“They tell it he was very gentle while he undid the long braids of the
young woman, who was weeping harder now. And when her hair was hanging
all loose down her back and she was just a girl again, he took a comb
and combed it gently. Over and over he combed it, until it was all
smooth and shining like the bend of a crow’s wing in the sun. Then with
great care he parted it and braided it again, doing this very slowly.
And when the braids were tied, he took the woman’s hand and placed it
in the hand of him who sat upon the right. ‘Go now,’ he said, ‘and be
good people.’ Some tell it there were tears upon his face, but others
that he kept them in his breast. I do not know.
“All this was many snows ago, before the sacred hoop was broken, and
when people still were good.”
VI
_Chased by a Cow_
The old man chuckled after one of his long silences. “Yes,” he said,
“I wondered if the great voice was angry when it called to me on the
pointed hill. But my grandfather was not angry about the pipe, and
maybe the great voice was not either. I thought and thought about this.
Maybe that was the only voice Wakon Tonka had, and it only sounded
angry because it was so big. Maybe it was cheering me for making the
offering.
“Everybody was getting ready for the big hunt, and something wonderful
was going to happen. I might even get a cow, a lame one; and then
everybody would praise me. Anyway, it would be a calf--one that got
lost, maybe in a draw to one side away from the herd. When I had killed
it, I would find my mother and grandmother, and they would come and
butcher it. Then we would pack the meat on Whirlwind, and when we came
into the village with the meat, people would notice and my grandmother
would tell the other old women: ‘See what my grandson did, and he is
going to give it all to the old people.’
“The scouts had gone out to look for a bison herd over towards where
the sun comes up, and one day the criers went about the village,
calling: ‘Make moccasins for your children! Look after the children’s
moccasins!’ And that meant to be ready, for we were going to move. Then
early next morning the criers went around, calling: ‘Councilors, come
to the center! Councilors, come to the center and bring your fires!’
They did this because in the old days a long time ago, the people had
no matches or flint and steel. They could make fire another way in dry
rotten wood by rubbing sticks together, but that was hard and could not
always be done. Fire was sacred then, and had to be kept alive when the
people moved. Then when they camped again, everybody came to the center
and got fire for their own tepees. They did not have to do it this
time, but it was part of living in a sacred manner, and that was good
for the people.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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