XXII XXII “I did not know it then, for I was young,” the old man began after a prolonged meditative silence. “All that time the sacred hoop was breaking, but I did not know. Red Cloud’s people were calling us the wild Lakota, because we would not eat Wasichu food and went on living in the sacred manner. The hoop was smaller, but our country looked the same. Only what we heard was different, but the words had traveled far; and when we looked around us, the prairie and the hills were there and the round sky above them. The morning star did not forget to come. The sun measured the days and the moon the seasons. The creeks and rivers ran, the wind blew, the snow came, the rain brought forth the young grass for the bison and the elk and the deer. And Wakon Tonka heard on any hill.
“But we were living on a big island, and the Wasichus were like great waters washing all around it, nibbling off the edges, and it was getting smaller, smaller, smaller. It is very small now. The people have lost the sacred hoop, the good red road, the flowering tree. We young men heard the others talk about Wasichus killing bison along Shell River where the iron road had cut the herd in two; and beyond that, farther towards where you are always facing [south], the land stank with bison rotting. I heard them say Wasichus killed the bison for their tongues, so many that no man could ever count them. Our old men remembered Wooden Cup and what he saw and said before our grandfathers were born. But I was young. Sometime we would get together and kill all the Wasichus. We were young and we would do great deeds and make a story for our grandchildren, and for theirs, and theirs.
“I think I was maybe seventeen winters old when I heard about horseback soldiers with their wagons in Pa Sapa [the Black Hills], and Long Hair [Custer] was their chief. That was the first time I heard his name. Maybe I helped to kill him two grasses after that, for I was fighting on the hill where he died; but I never saw him. I think if our people had been living in one hoop, he and all his soldiers would have died in Pa Sapa that time. Maybe that would have been better. I do not know.
“It was our land and it was wakon; for it was promised to us in a vision so long ago that the fire and the bow were new to our fathers then, and the sacred pipe had not yet been given to us.
“I will tell you what I heard the old men tell about Pa Sapa, and they heard it from old men, and they from others; and no one knows how long ago it was. The people were living then in a land that is many, many sleeps yonder [pointing southeast]. Towards where you are always facing [south], there was a great water [Gulf of Mexico]. Towards where the sun comes up, there was a great water [the Atlantic]. The people had become many, and I think they were not a nation yet. All were relatives, but sons did not know their fathers, nor fathers their sons, nor brothers their sisters. These people ate small animals and birds that they could kill with rocks or maybe slingshots, and also roots and berries that they could find. Their knives were only sharp pieces of rock or shells; and all they ate was raw, because they had no fire.
“But there was a man among the people, and his name, they say, was Moves Walking, the same as with our friend who ate with us. I think he must have been the first wichasha wakon, for one day he had a vision of the sun, and what the vision taught him, he showed to all the people. He could bring fire down from the sun, and this he did with the soap-weed as he had seen it in the vision. The root of this plant was like hair, and when it was rotten and dry it was very soft. So he put some of this on some hard dry wood. Then he took a dry stem of this weed and made it square. The end he made pointed and round, and this he pressed down through the soft stuff against the wood. When he had made it whirl between his hands awhile, the sun gave him fire, as he had seen it in his vision. This was a wonderful thing, and after that the people could begin to be a nation.
“But they were not ready yet, for they were weaker and slower than the big animals. So another man came up among the people, and they say his name was Wakina Luta [Red Thunder]. I think he must have been the second wichasha wakon, for one day when he was out hunting in the woods all alone, he got lost. And when he had walked and walked and could not find the way back, and was so tired he could hardly walk any more, there came a great storm of wind and thunder. So he crawled in under a rock. There was no rain—just wind and big thunders. And there under the rock he went to sleep. All at once as he slept, there were great voices calling, and they say it was the Thunder Beings that he heard. Theirs is the power to make live and to destroy, for theirs are the bow and the cup of water; and they live in the quarter where the sun goes down. And the great voices said, ‘Arise, Wakina Luta, and come with us. We are taking you to where there will be a great decision, and by it the people shall live or they shall die. So in his dream Red Thunder arose and followed the voices flying very fast, until he came to a far place that was called The Island Hill; for it was a great hill of many hills, standing high in the center of the hoop of the world. Therein all animals lived with the birds, and the grass was green in the valleys, and the trees on the slopes were many beyond counting, and tall. Clear, cold streams were running and leaping and singing. All flowers were living there of many colors, and among them happy deer made fat and were not afraid. It was more beautiful than any land Red Thunder ever saw before; and while he looked at it from above where he was floating, the voices of the Thunder Beings came again, and they said, ‘Here shall be the great decision; look about you.’ And when Red Thunder looked, he saw the hoop of the world all about him, and at the center was the Island Hill. And he saw that all the four-leggeds of the earth were gathered on one side, and on the other all the wings of the air, who are two-leggeds like us. They were all waiting for something. Then the thunder voices spoke again and said, These that you see shall race around the hoop of the world. If the four-leggeds win, they will eat you and the wings of the air. If the two-leggeds win, your people shall live; the children of your children’s children’s children shall possess this land; and the four-leggeds shall feed you,’
“Then the race began. The magpie, who knows everything, had a plan; so he flew down and sat on the ear of a bison bull and there he rode and waited. It was a long race, for the hoop of the world is great. Sometimes a big wind came, so that the wings of the air could hardly fly, and the four-leggeds were far ahead. Sometimes there would be a very hot day, and the four-leggeds could hardly run, so that the wings would be winning. A great rainstorm came roaring and many wings of the air were killed. But still the race went on, and all the while the magpie sat on the running bison’s ear and waited for something. Nobody knows how long they raced, but it was long. Then one day they were getting near the end. The four-leggeds were ahead, and they began to cheer. All the kinds of four-leggeds were making the noises that they knew, howling and roaring and screaming and barking, and growling and neighing, so that the whole sky was filled with the fearful sound, and the wide earth was afraid.
“But just before the end, the magpie, who was not tired at all, ‘rose high’ into the air and came swooping down upon the goal ahead of all the others. Then the voices of the four-leggeds died away, and the wide air was full of happy wings that soared and darted, swooped and floated; and the geese cried high, and the crane; the eagles screamed, and every bird that knows a song was singing.
“Then Wakina Luta heard the voice of thunder speaking once again, and it said to him, ‘Your two-legged relatives, the wings of the air, have won the race for your people. Your people shall live and possess this land and the Island Hill after many snows and grasses, and the four-leggeds shall keep and feed them.’ Then to the magpie the voice of thunder spoke, ‘By thinking, you have won the race for all your relatives, the two-leggeds. Hereafter you shall wear the rainbow in your tail, and it shall be a sign of victory.’ And what was said is true, for you can see it yet on every magpie. Also, it was true, as the voice said, that the people should be like the birds, their relatives; for it is like birds of prey that we fought, circling and swooping, and in the beauty of the birds we dressed ourselves for battle and for death.
“For a while the world was still, until the voice of thunder filled it once again, and to Wakina Luta in his vision it was speaking: ‘Your people still are weaker and slower than the big four-leggeds, so I give you this that you may be stronger than they, and their fleetness shall be slow.’ And when Wakina Luta looked, it was the great bow of the Thunder Beings with a pointed arrow that was tailed for guiding as the birds are tailed for guiding to a mark. And as he looked hard to see how it was made, the bow twanged, and the arrow rose high with the whisper of wings, and swooped like a hawk or an eagle; and yonder far away a great bison bull went down with feathers sprouting from his chest.
‘The thunder voice rose again, ‘Behold!’ And Wakina Luta in his vision saw a strange four-legged that might have been a dog, but was not, for no dog could grow so tall. It was a shonka wakon [sacred dog, horse], and as he looked and wondered, it raised its head and sent forth a high shrill voice that ran far and was like a victor singing. And the voice said, ‘You shall know him after many grasses in this land, and he shall be your friend and give you fleetness.’
“Then Red Thunder awoke under his rock and the world was still. So, with the vision living in him, he found his way back to the people; and all that he had seen, he told. Also he made a bow like that he saw and a feathered arrow; and he showed the young men how to make and use it.
“After that, the old men say, another man came up among the people, and Slow Buffalo is what they called him. I think he was the third wichasha wakon, for what he did a vision must have taught him. One day he called all the people together, and from among them he chose the oldest and wisest to sit with him. To these he gave a name, calling them a council. And to these he told what I think a vision must have shown him, while all the people listened. He said the people had grown to be too many for that place, and now with fire and the bow they could wander and go anywhere. For the first time he gave a name to each of the quarters of the world: Where the Sun Goes Down [west], Where the White Giant Lives [north], Where the Sun Comes Up [east], and Where You Are Always Facing [south]. Towards the last place the people could not go, for there the great water was near, and from thence a race of strangers would come. The people should be divided into three, and each should become a nation. One would go towards Where the Sun Comes Up, one to Where the Sun Goes Down, and the last towards Where the White Giant Lives. Each as it went must name all things, and these names would be a tongue.
“Then Slow Buffalo told them about fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, grandfathers and grandmothers. These he named for the first time. They should live together with one fire, and the fire would be holy. The old would guide the young; the young would give their strength to the old; and all together would give one strength to the nation, that it might be strong and live. The nation, he said, was itself a being with a grandfather, a grandmother, a father, and a mother. The Great Mysterious One is the grandfather, the Earth is the grandmother, the Sky is the father, and the mother is where the growing things come out of the ground and nurse with all that live. When Slow Buffalo had done this, he got together with the council and they chose leaders for the nations and called them chiefs. Each nation he divided into seven bands. Then the people started, each band with its central fire, which was holy, and its chiefs and council.
“I think the Lakotas came from those who wandered towards the Great White Giant; and it was while they were going that a vision was sent to them. I will tell you how the old men told it. Two young men were out hunting together when they saw something coming; and when it was nearer they knew it was a young woman, very good to see, dressed in fine white buckskin, and all about her was a shining white mist. And when one of the young men saw her, he had bad thoughts of her, and this she knew. So she said to the first young hunter, ‘Come, then, and do as you wish with me.’ But when he came near to her, the shining mist enclosed him and became a dark cloud with lightning in it. And when the cloud was gone and the shining white mist came back, the young man’s bones were scattered on the prairie. Then the young woman said to the second young hunter, ‘Your thoughts are good, and to you I give this sacred thing for all the people. Behold!’ It was a pipe; and while she held it out, she told the meanings that it had. The eagle feather, hanging from the bowl, meant the grandfather of all, the father of fathers, Wakon Tonka. Also it meant that the thoughts of those who smoked should rise high as the eagles do. The bison-hide upon the mouthpiece was for the grandmother of all, the mother of mothers; and he who touched it with his lips would know that he nursed with all living things. The four thongs hanging from the stem were colored like the quarters of the world—blue, white, red, yellow. The pipe and the morning star would stand for the power of the quarter where the sun comes up. Yonder the morning star brings light and wisdom and understanding. The pipe gives peace that comes from understanding. With the morning star and the pipe we should love each other and live together as brothers.
“I think the people forgot these things. Maybe they multiplied so fast that they got to quarreling and split up into many new bands that grew to be strangers with different names for things, different tongues. And maybe one of these bands grew big and became our people, the Lakotas. Even then, the old men say, there was not yet any war. But once the Lakotas found one of their hunters killed and scalped by a band of these strangers. So our people were angry; and when they came upon the band that had done this thing, they cut off all the strangers’ heads, so that there could be no war again. Maybe that is why the strangers used to call us cut-throats. But I think all the heads must have grown back on, for we have been fighting ever since. And after that, whatever people did not speak our tongue, we knew them for our enemies. But within the sacred hoop of our own people the ancient teaching lived and the power of the pipe was mighty.
“After these things had happened, there were many snows and grasses; I do not know how many. Then we came at last to the Island Hill that was promised long ago, and it was a sacred place. Because the pines upon it made it black a long way off, we called it Pa Sapa [black heads, the Black Hills]; and all the land around it was ours.
“Farther on towards where the sun goes down, there was a people that we called the Shyela [Cheyenne]. It was they who found the shonka wakon [horse] first. They were hunting from where they lived towards where you are always facing, and in a valley by a spring there stood this strange four-legged with long hair upon its neck and tail. It was living wild, but it was tame. At first the hunters were afraid, but after there was a council to talk about it some hunters were sent to catch it, and this they did with lariats of hide. And after some moons, this shonka wakon had a young one. Then one day when it was making a high shrill noise, another shonka wakon came, and this one was a stallion. So after that the Shyela had horses, and the Lakota traded for them, giving bows and arrows and beaded moccasins and clothing. The Arapahoes also found many horses and with them too the Lakota traded; and these peoples and the Lakota were friends after that, although their tongues were not the same. The old men said it was from the Wasichus who were towards where you are always facing [Spaniards] that the first horses ran away, and that is why they were so tame at first.
“So we had come at last to the Island Hill as the vision had foretold, and the land around it was ours and it was holy. There we lived in the sacred hoop with the sacred fire and the pipe; and the bow and the shonka wakon made us mighty.
“But when I was about seventeen winters old, a long dust of horseback soldiers with their wagons came down upon Pa Sapa, and I heard their chief was Long Hair. They came to look and went away; but they had seen the yellow metal [gold] that makes Wasichus crazy; and I think the whole Wasichu nation heard about it. So when the young grass came again and died, big trouble started.”