INDIANS AND THEIR PREDECESSORS

PREHISTORIC MAN IN NORTH DAKOTA

Just when and where in the shadowy, endless past the Indians of North Dakota, or even of the two Americas, began to break away from the parent stem is not known. Weapons and tools shaped from stone and found in strata that settled into place near the end of the Pleistocene, or glacial, period indicate that as much as 15,000 to 20,000 years ago men wandered along the rivers and through the swamps of those areas that later became New Mexico, Nebraska, and Minnesota. Very probably, in long hunts after game, parties of these men penetrated what is now North Dakota. Stone tools and weapons found in the vicinity of Bismarck suggest an early occupation of the area, how long ago no one knows.

A great many years nearer the present day, but still possibly a thousand or more years ago, men were digging busily in the flint quarries 19 miles north of Hebron and 12 miles northwest of Dodge and at other points on the Knife River. With the flint obtained here they fashioned arrowheads and spear points to kill buffalo or to protect their homes against enemy tribesmen. One of these heavily sodded sites on the Knife River contains more than 300 pits, most of which are from 8 to 10 feet across, and from 3 to 5 feet deep.

The extensive mounds and earthworks found in the eastern half of North Dakota have been only imperfectly investigated so far, partly because archeologists have but recently recognized the possibilities of the area. The skeletons and the bone and stone manufactured articles lately discovered, however, as well as the general finds of the region, suggest the probability of outlining tribal movements of importance. There is an increasing suggestion that before the time of the historic tribes the prairies of the eastern half of the State supported large populations. It is thought that, just as the Cheyenne are known to have done in the historic period, in prehistoric time the Assiniboin and the Blackfeet, and preceding them still other tribes, carried on a settled agricultural life before they became nomadic. Of course the movements of these tribes were not confined entirely to what is now North Dakota.

Perhaps hundreds of years after the construction of the mounds in the eastern half of the State—possibly from one to four hundred years ago—some tribe or tribes, probably the Sioux or certain of the village-building Indians, were putting together the turtle effigies frequently encountered on the hills west of the Missouri, and constructing the more widespread and better-known boulder-ring effigies. The purpose of these crude outlines on the prairie is not definitely known. Because the turtle plays a prominent part in medicine ceremonies of the Mandan Indians, some think the turtle effigies were made to win the favor of certain spirits. Others claim they were made to point the weary Indian to good water—a theory which may also apply to a number of the cairns occasionally seen piled on the tops of high hills. Other cairns are ceremonial or commemorative.

Boulder rings, which sometimes appear in large numbers but more often present only one or two specimens in a given location, were once thought to be tipi rings. The fact that many of them appear on the sides and tops of hills has discredited this assumption, however.

Veneration of the so-called sacred stones of the State probably began in the effigy-building period, but the origin of the very interesting writing rocks (see Side Tours 3B, 4A, 8A, and 8C) is undoubtedly far more ancient. The significance of the markings on these rocks has not yet been determined.

THE COMING OF THE NORTH DAKOTA INDIAN TRIBES

About the time the earlier turtle effigies were made—perhaps 200 years ago—in permanent villages of earth lodges in the valley of the Missouri dwelt a most interesting group of people, raising many cultivated plants, building fortified towns, and in general living a rather ordered existence. These were the Mandan, as far as is definitely known the first of the historic tribes to enter the State. Their exact origin is not clear. Certain of their traditions claim that they long ago lived in the East near a great body of water—most authorities suggest the East Coast or Gulf of Mexico.

At any rate, many generations before the coming of the whites, the Mandan—probably crowded by other tribes—began to wander westward. Apparently their long trek finally brought them and their wives and children to the junction of the White River with the Missouri in what is now South Dakota. Grass-grown sites of their old villages along the benchland of the river show how these people, in quest of a new and more satisfactory home, moved northward in successive migrations until in time they arrived at the mouth of the Heart River in the neighborhood of present Mandan and Bismarck. Here they probably remained for generations, carrying on a settled agricultural life. They were visited by the Verendryes in 1738 (see Tour 8), at which time they had six large, well-fortified villages. Estimates of their number at this time have ranged from 2,500 to 15,000.

They are one of those four North Dakota Indian groups—Mandan, Hidatsa, Cheyenne, and Arikara—who because of their farming activities are called the agricultural tribes. While the Mandan were building on the Missouri, the Hidatsa were probably living somewhat farther north and east. They have a tradition that they originally came from a large lake to the east, possibly Devils Lake. Later, probably forced on by some other tribe, they moved their families over the prairies to the Missouri in the region of the Heart River, and eventually allied themselves with the Mandan. Their history thereafter follows very closely that of the latter tribe.

While the Mandan and Hidatsa were dwelling on the Missouri, the Cheyenne were migrating westward from the headwaters of the Mississippi, by way of Lac Que Parle in present Minnesota, Lake Traverse, and the big bend of the Sheyenne River, to the Missouri, seeking a place where they could till the soil and rear their children in peace, free from the harrying of the Sioux.

At the same time the Arikara, doubtless likewise trying to take their families away from the ravaging Dakota, were ascending the Missouri. The name of this tribe arose from their custom of wearing in their hair two pieces of bone which stood up on each side of the head like horns. They came from the southwest and their language differs only in dialect from the Pawnee. In 1770 French traders encountered them dwelling along the river bank somewhat below the mouth of the Cheyenne River in what is now South Dakota.

The migrations of the Hidatsa, Cheyenne, and Arikara, as those of the Mandan, are traceable by the old village sites, of which there are about 75 known locations on the prairies of the State. Arikara sites predominate lower down the Missouri in South Dakota; the older Mandan—perhaps constructed as early as 1575-1650—in the Heart River region; and the Hidatsa, farther north near the Knife River. There are apparently two types, a newer and an older. The newer, perhaps less carefully laid out than the older, is found at and above the mouth of the Heart River. The older type appears to have had better fortifications than the newer, and the lodges do not seem to have been so crowded. Because of its greater age it is more heavily sodded, and thus manufactured articles left by the village dwellers, such as stone and bone tools and ornaments, are less easily recovered. It seems to center below the Heart River, with the Huff site, just below the village of Huff, as perhaps the best example (see Tour 8).

Sometime—perhaps a hundred years—after the Mandan first built about the mouth of the Heart River, the three nomadic North Dakota tribes—the Sioux, Assiniboin, and Chippewa—were ranging the forests near the headwaters of the Mississippi. The Chippewa, however, were not strictly nomadic, as they had more or less permanent camping places, where they built their distinctive bark shelters.

The Chippewa wandered from the Lake region across Minnesota to the Turtle Mountains. They cultivated maize and were apparently more or less at peace with the Sioux until in the early eighteenth century the coming of the whites brought them firearms. With this advantage they overcame the Sioux and drove them south and west.

The Assiniboin were a large tribe, whose language, with only a very slight dialectal difference from that of the Yanktonai tribe of the Sioux, suggests they had not long been separated from the latter when first encountered by the whites near the headwaters of the Mississippi. At the beginning of the eighteenth century they were in the neighborhood of Lake Winnipeg, whence they drifted southward to the territory west of the Turtle Mountain region in present North Dakota.

The Sioux apparently once lived in the Ohio Valley, but prior to the historic period they moved out in several directions. At the coming of the whites in the middle seventeenth century they were found in the woods in northern Minnesota. Pressed by the Chippewa, they extended their range westward over the prairies to the Missouri, and west of that stream, from the Yellowstone River on the north to the Platte on the south, to cover a huge block of territory throughout which the name of this powerful tribe was feared and dreaded by all other Indians.

Of these seven North Dakota peoples—Mandan, Hidatsa, Cheyenne, Arikara, Sioux, Assiniboin, Chippewa—well-authenticated records exist. It will be noted that nearly all except the Arikara seem to have come from the east, particularly from the Lakes region, with the added suggestion of an earlier residence farther east or south. There is also in some cases a definite shift from a settled agricultural life to a nomadic one. They apparently arrived in the State in the following order:

Linguistically all the North Dakota tribes are Siouan, except the Arikara, who are Caddoan, and the Chippewa and Cheyenne, who are Algonquian.

EARLY INDIAN LIFE IN NORTH DAKOTA

It is interesting to visualize the prairie scene centuries ago when the Indian ruled the plains. The agricultural tribes usually built their villages of earth lodges so that one or more sides lay along a high cliff or next to a river. This afforded partial protection from the Sioux. In the more ancient types an earthen wall, sometimes built with bastions, protected the exposed sides. A log palisade topped the wall, and around the whole a ditch was dug. The number of lodges in a village varied from 30 or 40 to as high as perhaps 160. Catlin said the lodges had the appearance of huge inverted kettles, above which rose spears, and scalp and medicine poles.

The lodges in the older types of villages were arranged with a certain degree of uniformity. In the Mandan villages the lodges faced the center, where stood a large barrel or hogshead, called the Big Canoe. Soon after the Mandan came upon the earth, it is told, a great flood came and would have destroyed them utterly had not a wise Mandan, the First Man, with superlative effort and dexterity, built a great canoe or ark and hurried the surviving people into it. This staunch ark weathered the fury of the waters and finally came to rest on a high hill near the Cannonball River (see Side Tour 8C). The Big Canoe in the center of the village was a symbol of this ark.

Uniformity was not so evident in the later types of villages. Between the lodges only room enough was left for men and women of the village to pass; consequently, the broad earth roofs served the additional purpose of verandas. Out upon these roofs, especially in the summertime, was much activity—children played, old men watched for enemy tribesmen, sweethearts conversed, neighbors gossiped. Although the tribes were often ruthless and cruel in war, in their prairie homes and villages they were very friendly and companionable people. Both men and women indulged in a great number of games, and spent a good deal of time in visiting, feasting, and dancing. Catlin upon his departure after living with the Mandans for months was loaded with gifts and urged to continue his visit.

Heavy garments were worn in the winter, and at that season the buffalo robe was very much in evidence both for bedcovering and as an article of clothing; but in summer time clothing was rather scanty. Both men and women went down to the grassy shore of the Missouri in the morning to bathe, often with little regard for dress—a fact that greatly shocked some early travelers.

As the morning sun flooded the narrow dirt lanes of one of these villages, braves, clad in breechcloths and moccasins, might have been seen preparing for a hunt, while naked boys played with scores of scampering dogs. If the village was Mandan, some of the hunters were surprisingly Caucasian in appearance—the skin somewhat lighter than that of the average Indian, the nose not so broad, and the cheekbones less prominent. Early travelers noted cases of extraordinarily light complexions, and also instances of brown hair and blue eyes—characteristics suggesting European blood. By certain of the first white visitors the Hidatsa were regarded as being rather superior intellectually, but this was not so apparent in later days.

At their sides the hunters carried knives and bows and arrows in leather sheaths. If they were going out to kill rabbit, ducks, geese, beaver, deer, or elk along the river bottom, they might go afoot. If they sought the wilder bighorn sheep or the buffalo, however, they brought their ponies from the lodges, where they had been quartered overnight, as that was the safest place available. Lariats, bridles, and saddles were of leather. To protect themselves from enemy attack the hunters had spears, tomahawks, shields, and lances, in addition to the ever present bows and arrows.

As they threaded their way between the lodges, here and there they saw some of their women baking pottery of a mixture of clay and powdered granite or flint—Catlin says they modeled it into a thousand forms, and that some of their pottery held as much as five gallons. Other women, using bone awls and needles, were decorating girdles, fans, moccasins, and dresses with beadwork and embroidery. Clothing, especially headdress, was elaborate and spectacular on ceremonial occasions. Still other women were weaving wickerwork, both flat and in the form of baskets; making bone spoons, ladles, and other household utensils; fashioning implements for the work in their gardens; and working over hides stretched on crude frames, in the process of tanning. In the latter art all the North Dakota tribes were unusually proficient. Hides prepared by them retained their softness and resilience even after being subjected to moisture many times.

Farther on, a group of boys hovered about a hoary old man who sat near the door of a lodge in the soft summer sun and told them the history and traditions of their tribe. They had just come in from the prairie outside the village, where the older warriors had been teaching them the art of war by leading them in a sham battle. The victorious side had danced the scalp dance, just as their elders did after the actual taking of scalps, and now all were gathered about this old man to hear the stories of their people. If the village was Mandan, very possibly the old man was telling them of the great tribal hero, Good Furred Robe, who is supposed to have played so large a part in establishing the Mandan way of living. The narrator would tell them, too, that the Mandan were the first people created in the world, and that originally they lived inside the earth, where they raised many vines. Of course, they were constantly striving and struggling to find a way out of this dark, underground world. Finally one of their vines pushed its way through a hole in the earth overhead, and some of their people climbed up and out into a rich, fine country. A large fat woman, trying to climb out, broke the vine, however, and the remainder of the Mandans live underground to this day.

The storyteller also had another version of the beginning of things. At first the world was entirely water, inhabited by no living creature but a swan, which in some unaccountable way produced a crow, a wolf, and a water hen. Through the unsparing efforts of the crow to improve their situation the water hen was finally sent to the bottom of the waters to fetch some earth. Taking a small quantity of this in her bill, the crow made the earth. Later, persevering in her labor of improving their lot, she assumed the form of an Indian, and made all the beasts, birds, fishes, and insects, and became the first of all Indians.

If the aged narrator had been an Arikara, his story would have been similar to that of the Mandan. The Arikara believed that they together with all other living things existed first in an embryo state deep within the earth. There they gradually developed, and after many generations of patient struggle were at last successful in their attempt to get to the surface. As they emerged, they were directed by a Voice, which remained with them, comforting and guiding them until after many hardships and vicissitudes they came to a fair land. Here there came to them a beautiful woman—the one whose voice had led them. She was Mother Corn, the protective spirit of the agricultural tribes, and the one who gave them their staple food grain.

As the hunters passed along they heard through the village the sound of music—crude flutes, whistles, and drums. All the North Dakota tribes were musical, even though their product was hampered by the limitations of their scale, which had only five notes. Frances Densmore has placed hundreds of their songs in notation, copies of which are published in the bulletins of the Smithsonian Institution.

Now and then, above the sound of the music, voices raised in wailing were heard. These came from the scaffold cemetery on the prairie just outside the village, whither some had withdrawn to lament the death of loved ones. Great mourning followed upon a death—the wailing could often be heard for miles. The Mandan slashed themselves until their bodies were covered with blood, and mourned for a year. In the tree or scaffold method of burial, the one usually followed by the North Dakota tribes, the cemetery was ordinarily situated only two or three hundred paces from the village. The body was wrapped in blankets and placed upon the scaffold very soon after death—some say before the sun again sank below the prairies. The Arikara and the Chippewa placed their dead in the ground, the former resting the body in a sitting posture, or on its side, with the knees drawn up, in a shallow stone-lined grave. The latter people believed the spirit followed a wide, beaten path to the west, at the end of which lay everything an Indian could desire.

The Sioux thought the soul must journey after death toward the land from which the west wind comes. They believed that the soul did not leave the body until after nightfall. A horse was killed beneath the tree or scaffold, in order that the spirit of the animal might carry the spirit of the Indian to the Milky Way, which was regarded as the pathway of ghosts. On this pathway the spirit of the dead was met by the Old Woman with the Stick. If he passed the proper tests, she directed him down the left fork of the Milky Way to the Northern Lights, which were regarded as the campfires of the departed heroes and good people of the tribe. If he could not meet the tests, however, she pushed him along the right fork over a precipice; and he and his horse were there changed into beetle bugs forever.

The above-ground type of cemetery undoubtedly contributed to the spread of disease. Of course, the tribes were subject to a variety of maladies, smallpox being the most dreaded. From this latter scourge the agricultural people suffered disastrously; the Mandan were nearly wiped out by it in the early nineteenth century. In the treatment of disease certain medicinal herbs were used rather intelligently, and the vapor bath was of distinct value; but when it came to the more severe forms of sickness, the primitive sufferers called in the medicine men and trusted to their incantations.

As the hunters, saddened by the wailing of the mourners, went on their way, sounds of an altogether different type might have come to them—sounds of joy—of a wedding in progress. The bridegroom would have delivered the horses with which he paid for his bride, and the guests would be gathered at the lodge for the feast, which usually consummated the relatively simple affairs that courtship and marriage were among the prairie Indians. Perhaps the groom already had several wives—the possession of 6 was a common situation, and the great men of the tribe sometimes had as many as 14. Since the women did much of the work of field and lodge, the acquisition of another wife was not an added burden. Despite the existence of polygamy, however, Indian families were not large.

The babies of the party would be seen strapped to board cradles, where a good part of infancy was spent in those days—a life that must have had its pleasant features. In this point of vantage a child could be set up by the side of the tipi or lodge to enjoy the sunshine, be hung up in a tree to talk to the birds, or be carried at the side of a horse or on the back of its mother to look serenely over the far prairies.

At this point a courier might have detained the hunters and delivered a message requesting the presence of some of them at a council of the leading men of the tribe, called to consider pressing affairs of government. Among the Plains Indians, government varied greatly, being dependent upon a combination of custom and tradition and the personal fitness and character of the chief. Perhaps the latter element played a greater part in the swiftly changing life of the nomadic tribes, while among the more settled agricultural peoples, tradition and the hereditary rights of chieftainship had more authority. Nearly all the tribes were divided into a number of clans or bands.

If the supply of meat was running low, and no buffalo had been near the village for a long time, the big question before the council might have been whether or not the tribe should conduct the buffalo dance. The agricultural tribes did not like to go far from the protection of their villages because of the enemy Sioux, and often resorted to the buffalo dance, which never failed to bring the buffalo, because it was danced until buffalo came. The dancers donned buffalo skins, the head of the dancer being placed in the head of the skin so that the eyes looked out as the buffalo's had; the horns projected above the head, and the tail dragged on the ground. Thus garbed, they danced in the center of the village, going through all the antics of the buffalo. During the days of the buffalo dance, the yelping of the people and the beating of drums was continuous and deafening. Each dancer danced until exhausted, and then the others shot him with blunt arrows; whereupon he was dragged to one side, and theoretically skinned and cut up. Other dancers replaced those thus removed, and the dance was kept up until buffalo came. Sometimes the Sioux out on the prairie put on buffalo hides and decoyed the villagers forth to be ambushed.

The ceremony of the rain makers was another that was always effective because it was continued until the desired results were achieved. Evidently there were droughts in those days, too, and the fields of Mandan corn withered in the hot summer suns. Catlin tells the story of one rain maker, who, mounting his lodge and vaunting his powers, called upon the clouds to bring rain. Just as he was about to retire in failure and disgrace, out of a clear sky came apparent thunder. The sound, however, turned out to be a salute fired by the steamer Yellowstone on her first trip up the Missouri. At first nonplussed, the rain maker finally made capital out of this coincidence when, later in the day, a large cloud jutted up on the horizon, and a heavy rain began and continued far into the night.

The council might have been considering also the conducting of the yearly feast of Okeepa, the most important of all Mandan ceremonies. This centered about the legend of the Ark and the First Man, and was regarded as being an essential part of the origin and existence of the tribe. It took place in the summertime, usually lasting about four days.

The feast of Okeepa contained many features common to the sun dance of the other Plains tribes, particularly the element of self-torture. Skewers were thrust through the loose flesh of the dancer's chest, thongs attached, and the dancer thereby hauled up toward the roof of the council lodge until his body was six or eight feet off the ground. Often other skewers were thrust through the skin of the back, and weights attached by thongs and allowed to drag over the floor of the lodge as the dancer swung about the pole. Thus suspended, the warrior boasted of his prowess and bravery until he was released by the breaking of the flesh. This torture was thought necessary to secure the blessings of food, shelter, protection from enemies, and long life.

While the hunters were away, some of the women, engaged in the immemorial food-getting practice of fishing, went out on the river in the tublike bullboat—so-called because it was made from the skin of a single buffalo bull, stretched over a willow frame. Others went along the bluffs and through the valleys, digging tipsin roots, and gathering berries, cherries, and plums.

But probably by far their most important occupation economically was their work in the gardens. As far back as their traditions go, the tribes of the Missouri Valley seem to have been agriculturists. Along the river each family kept a field or garden, variously estimated at from one to four or five acres in size. These fields were held by the family with a sort of perpetual lease from the community, the term of the lease being dependent only on the condition that good use be made of the land. There was apparently no concept of the white man's practice of fertilizing the soil; when an old field grew impoverished, a new one was selected. A fence of forked sticks protected the crops from horses, while here and there on the outskirts of the fields a sentry brave was on duty to guard the women from the ever dreaded Sioux. Aiding the women were a few old men, too feeble for the chase. A variety of tobacco, several varieties of sunflowers, squashes, pumpkins, and beans, and a dozen varieties of corn grew in the gardens. Early travelers say the ears of corn were extraordinarily small.

The keepers of the gardens were very faithful in caring for the growing plants, and took great pride in keeping the soil free from weeds. They worked among the corn with the willow rake, the antler fork, and, probably most important of all, the shoulderblade hoe. In each garden stood a platform or watchtower upon which in certain seasons sat one or two Indian women, whose duty it was to frighten away marauding crows and blackbirds. These women also sang watchtower songs to the growing corn, as a mother sings to her babe.

When the hunters and the berry pickers and the gardeners returned home, surplus corn, meat, squashes, and other foods were placed on the drying racks which stood at the doors of the lodges. Corn that was allowed to ripen was usually stored in underground bottle-shaped caches or storage pits, the best ears being placed around the edges of the cache, while in the center were thrown loose corn and strings of dried squash.

As evening came on, within the dome-shaped lodges there was much feasting, especially if it was the time of the new corn. The doorway of a lodge was protected by a kind of porch and hung with a buffalo hide. From behind the windshield just inside the doorway shone the light of the fire, which was built in a stone-lined depression in the center of the lodge, with a hole in the roof to carry off the smoke. This opening also served as a skylight. To the right of the doorway, in a small corral or stall, were the favorite ponies, safely confined for the night. Boxlike beds for the master of the house, his wife or wives, and his children, were arranged along the wall on the other side. These were made by covering sturdy wooden frames with hides. In the rear stood an altar—a tall hide-covered structure somewhat resembling a canopied chair—in which were placed all the sacred objects and most prized possessions of the head of the house. Over the fire about which the family or families had gathered—usually two or three families and their relatives lived in one lodge—were kettles of food cooking for the evening meal. Catlin says the Indians ate whenever hungry, or about twice a day. The pot was kept boiling, and each one helped himself. Anyone in the village who was hungry was free to go into any lodge and satisfy his hunger, although the lazy and improvident were scorned.

Overhead, the light from the fire flickered on the huge supporting uprights of the lodge, where hung articles of clothing, tools from the garden, and weapons for war and hunting. Months before, with infinite labor and no little ingenuity, and hampered by the imperfections of the crude tools and equipment at their command, these early Dakota farmers had cut great cottonwood logs from the Missouri bottomlands and dragged them to the top of the bluffs, to form the framework for this earthen home. The lodges varied from 30 to 90 feet in diameter. After a little sod had been removed from a space of the desired size, to form a smooth, firm floor, four heavy posts were fixed upright not far from the center, to support the great roof, while at some distance out from these a circle of smaller posts was set to hold up the sides. Rafters of moderate-sized timbers were placed over these supports, after which the whole was overlaid with willows, hay, and earth—a humble covering that guarded with all its passive, effective impenetrability against both the sweltering heat of summer and the intense cold of winter.

Out on the prairies, sometimes along the shores of rivers or lakes, sometimes on the open plain, stood the tipi villages of the enemy—the nomadic Assiniboin and Sioux. Against the evening sky the tipis, which required about 15 buffalo hides each in their construction, rose as much as 25 feet in height. A tipi approximately 15 feet in diameter usually accommodated two families.

Not far from the village, and very carefully guarded, grazed the pony herd. The horse was of great importance in the nomadic way of living. He carried the tipi and its contents across the plains and sped the hunters in their pursuit of the buffalo. Every warrior had two, some many more; and Sioux horsemen were probably as daring and expert as any the world has known.

The serviceability of the horse was increased by the use of the travois, a simple implement of transportation consisting of two long poles, often tipi poles, whose forward ends, joined by a short strap, rested on the animal's neck, while the rear ends dragged along the prairie. Camp duffle was strapped to the middle of the poles. A similar but smaller device was placed on dogs.

Gathered about the campfires were the warriors, men of striking physique and strong character, perhaps just in from the chase or war or a pillaging expedition. The clothing of the nomadic tribes was more extensive than that of the agricultural. Moccasins, separate trouser legs, breechcloth, and leather shirt were supplemented in cold weather by buffalo robes. The women wore moccasins, short decorated leggings, and loose-fitting leather dresses falling to the knees. In winter both sexes wore a kind of hood over the head. Clothing was commonly ornamented with bead and quill work.

Here and there about the tipis hung bows with quivers of arrows. As in the case of the agricultural tribes, the bow and arrow was the chief weapon, and the Sioux were expert in its use. Ready to hand, too, were shields, clubs, stone hammers, and spears. It is interesting to note here that as a means of communication in peace and war the tribes made good use of the art of signaling with fires and smoke. By this method messages were transmitted long distances with almost incredible rapidity.

Not far from the fires some of the women were preparing for drying the buffalo meat brought in from the chase. Others were storing dried berries and fruits in caches, in the making and concealing of which the Sioux were very skillful.

About the big fire near the center of the village the old men and chiefs were meeting in council over some weighty matter, perhaps the arrangements for the great annual sun dance. For this a special lodge was prepared on the prairie, around which the whole village pitched its camp in the form of a horseshoe facing the east. The ceremony required several days and involved self-torture similar to that of the Mandan feast of Okeepa.

In one group about the fire an elderly man was relating the history of the tribe to a circle of youthful faces. Some of the tribes kept a chronicle of their history by means of the winter count: the council met in winter and decided on the outstanding event of the year; thereafter the year was designated by this event, which was often pictured symbolically on a buffalo hide.

With the history, of course, as the evening stars came out, were mingled fancy and legend. On this night the boys and girls heard of the great monster who breaks up the ice in the Missouri each spring, of how one of the goose nation was shown in a dream that her people should go south each autumn in order to avoid the harsh winter, and of the Iktomi, the little "spidermen," who on moonlight nights, high on hilltops, can be heard with their tiny hammers, shaping arrowheads which they place in piles where Indians can find them.

One of the Iktomi, who was a very excellent singer and dancer, was hungry, continued the storyteller, and went into the woods to catch some birds. Being unsuccessful in his attempts to bag them, he invited them into his house to hear him sing. After they had accepted his invitation, he told them that if they were to hear his sweet voice, they must keep their eyes closed tightly. He warned them that their eyes would turn to a blood red if they opened them. Then he sang and danced. In his dance, however, as he passed each bird, he took it by the head and wrung its neck. This continued until he came to Siyaka, the duck. Siyaka opened his eyes just as the Iktomi seized him, and managed to break away. But where the Iktomi had his hand about his neck there was a red ring which is there to this day, and Siyaka is now the ring-necked duck.

The thunderbirds, so ran another tale of the aged storyteller, live suspended between heaven and earth, their wings supported by lightning. Above are the dark clouds. Below is the earth. When the thunderbirds shake their wings favorably, it rains. There was a time when they tired of living between heaven and earth, and asked the Great Mystery if they might become men and live on earth. This the Great Mystery gave them permission to do, but told them that they should become men such as no other men were. Accordingly, they became giants so large that one living on the Big Muddy could reach the Atlantic Ocean in a single step. One of them playfully took up a handful of earth, and the waters flowing into the depression formed Lake Superior, while the handful of earth which he tossed aside made a mountain. They dug a ditch to the Gulf of Mexico, and it is now called the Mississippi River. Such antics finally produced all the lakes and rivers. At last the thunderbird men grew old and died, and went back to the spaces between heaven and earth. Lightning is the fire from their eyes, and thunder the reverberation from their eggs as they hatch.

While the night settled darker and a breath of cool air stole in from the prairie, the storyteller told of the great giant who lives in the North and whose name is Wasiya. The feathers of his bonnet are icicles, and his clothing is of ice. When he blows his breath, it turns cold and winter comes.

Later, as strange lights began to play far away in the northern sky, the narrator told the story, heard from the Chippewa, of the Northern Lights. A woman in a dream once visited the land where these lights shine, and discovered that they are ghosts rising and falling in the steps of a dance. All the women wear gay colors, and the warriors brandish their war clubs.

The boys and girls heard, too, of the beautiful Indian maiden who came from the land of the setting sun and brought the Sioux the pipe of strange red stone, which is the solidified blood of Indians. She told them to use the pipe only when there is peace, or peace to be made, and in times of sickness and distress; and urged them to be kind to the women because they are weak. She is now the morning star, the Indians' sister, and stands in the heavens, wearing a white buffalo robe. The boys and girls were told, too, as the darkness deepened out on the prairies, that the earth is the Indians' Mother, and the sun their Father. Therefore, they should treat kindly and with reverence all things in earth and sky, because they are manifestations of Wakantanka, the Great Mystery, or the Great Spirit, to whom the Indians pray.

DECLINE OF THE INDIAN TRIBES

Shortly after the Verendrye visit the Mandan seem to have declined. When Lewis and Clark came up the Missouri in 1804, the villages about the Heart River were in ruins. Farther up the river, near where it is joined by the Knife, the explorers found the Mandan, diminished by smallpox and by wars with the Assiniboin and the Dakota to two small villages. In 1837 smallpox again broke out, reducing the tribe from 1,600 to 150—some travelers give even a lower figure. At the beginning of the twentieth century it numbered about 250.

The other agricultural tribes seem to have suffered fates almost as harsh. The Hidatsa, numbering 2,100 at the time of the Lewis and Clark visit, had been reduced at the beginning of the present century to less than 500. In 1804 the Arikara, crowded by the Sioux, had moved up the river nearer to the other agricultural tribes. Lewis and Clark found them in three villages between the Grand and Cannonball Rivers in what is now North and South Dakota. At that time they numbered 2,600, but this figure had dropped to 380 by the beginning of the twentieth century. The Cheyenne village on the Missouri, some distance below the site of Bismarck, was in ruins at the time of the expedition. Successive migrations finally brought the Cheyenne to the headwaters of the Cheyenne River in the southwestern part of present South Dakota.

The agricultural tribes on the whole have been very friendly to the whites. In 1870 a large reservation, which has since been much reduced in size, was set apart at the junction of the Missouri and the Little Missouri Rivers for the Mandan, Arikara, and Hidatsa (see Side Tour 3A). Since the beginning of the century their numbers have increased by large percentages and at the present time they number approximately 1,650. The remnant of those Cheyenne who lived in North Dakota are now on reservations in south central Montana and in Oklahoma.

The nomadic tribes, especially the Sioux, did not take as kindly to the white invasion as did the agricultural groups. However, the principal disturbances involving this tribe—the Minnesota Massacre of 1862, which extended to Abercrombie within the limits of present North Dakota; Sibley's campaign to the Missouri in 1863; Sully's expeditions into Dakota in 1863-64; and the battle of the Little Big Horn in 1876, when Gen. George A. Custer and five companies of cavalry were wiped out—none of these major conflicts involved the Sioux as a whole, but rather one or more of the seven Council Fires, as they call their tribal divisions. These seven groups are the Mdewakanton, Wahpekute, Sisseton, and Wahpeton, who inhabited the region about Lake Traverse and the Big Sioux River and east to the Mississippi; the Yankton and Yanktonai, who lived along the course of the James River; and the Teton, who dwelt west of the Missouri. The four Council Fires first named were responsible for the uprising and massacre in Minnesota in 1862, in which about 400 settlers and 100 white soldiers lost their lives. Sibley and Sully were sent into Dakota Territory in 1863-64 to punish the perpetrators of this massacre, but although they punished Sioux, they probably did not punish the offending bands (see History).

While all the Sioux were bitter in their objection to the whites, it was the Teton, or prairie Sioux, whose seven bands constituted more than one-half the tribe, who were the most unremitting in their hostility. These bands were the Ogallala, Brulé, Hunkpapa, Blackfeet, Minneconjou, Sans Arcs, and Two Kettle. Of these the Hunkpapa and Ogallala were the most numerous. They were also probably the most inflexible in their determination not to yield to white sovereignty, and formed the backbone of the Indian opposition in the disasters at Fort Phil Kearney in Wyoming and at the Little Big Horn in Montana.

The other North Dakota nomadic tribes did not give the newcomers as much trouble as did the Sioux. The Assiniboin were a wandering people, less certain of fixed habitation than the Sioux and Chippewa. In spite of the uncertainty of their lives and their constant warfare with the Sioux, in the early part of the nineteenth century they numbered about 1,200 lodges. Not long afterward they were reduced by a plague of smallpox to less than 400 lodges.

The Chippewa made a treaty with the Government in 1815 after the border troubles incident to the War of 1812, and have since remained peaceful, almost all residing on reservations or allotted lands within their original territory in Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, and North Dakota. At the close of the eighteenth century there were perhaps 25,000 Chippewa, while at the beginning of the twentieth there were in the neighborhood of 30,000, approximately 1,000 of whom were in North Dakota.

The nomadic tribes now living in North Dakota are on three reservations. Nearly 1,000 Sioux are at Fort Totten (see Side Tour 6A), while Standing Rock (see Side Tour 8C) has about 1,600 on the North Dakota side. Six thousand three hundred thirty-four Chippewas, most of whom are of mixed blood, live on the Turtle Mountain Reservation (see Tour 5). The members of the Assiniboin tribe now live on reservations in Montana and Canada.

NORTH DAKOTA INDIAN TRIBES TODAY

Present-day North Dakota Indian life offers a vastly different picture from that which the Verendryes saw in 1738, or that which three-fourths of a century later presented itself to Lewis and Clark. The lives of the groups on the various reservations bear many points in common. They have all been brought very quickly from the age of stone and thrust precipitately into the bright light of the modern world. They are all survivors of Indian nations whose ranges once extended from the forests of the Great Lakes to the Rockies, and from the prairies of western Canada to the Platte. Now on much restricted areas and amid a complex and alien culture they are endeavoring to build homes and rear children in a manner that will at once accord with the limitations set by the dominant white race, and yet retain what they feel is worthy in their own cultures and traditions.

In spite of these fundamental similarities the material life of the Indians on the various reserves presents not only a mingling of white and Indian cultures, but also somewhat wide differences in economic status. With the exception of that done at Fort Berthold little farming is carried on, a situation not generally due to lack of land; while more than 6,000 Indians at Turtle Mountain are crowded into 72 square miles, and while the present homes of all of the tribes are rather infinitesimal in comparison with their former wide ranges, most of them do not lack space for farming. However, particularly at Standing Rock, a certain antipathy for the white man's settled mode of life, coupled with semiarid conditions unfavorable to agriculture, have discouraged efforts along that line.

The land has been allotted in severalty for the most part, and the concept of individual ownership has in general been adopted, although there is a movement in the Standing Rock area to return to the communal form. A small amount of grazing and timber land is held tribally at Fort Berthold and Standing Rock, and the latter reservation has a tribal herd of 1,500 cattle. Much Indian land is rented to whites for grazing or farming.

The relatively superior economic situation of the Fort Berthold Indians is doubtless due to the ancient agrarian background of the tribe. Long centuries of farming fitted them for ready adjustment to the agricultural life of the reservation. A general view of the farming section of their area presents an aspect not greatly unlike that of any other farming section in a similar territory. While many of them live in log houses of two to four rooms, others live in better buildings than those of the average rural district. Homes on the other reservations vary from primitive shacks and log cabins to modern dwellings, and are usually clustered about agencies or subagencies. In summertime many of the Indians, showing a longing for the old tipi life, live in tents placed in their yards, and cook over open fires. Wikiups, improvised shelters of willows, are also used in fair weather.

Although the primitive food-gathering methods of hunting and fishing have no great economic value at the present time, the Indians still make use of their traditional knowledge of certain native foods and simple ways of preserving them. They dry much of their food, especially meat and vegetables. Among the Fort Berthold Indians one may still be offered pemmican, corn balls, butter from marrow, sausage, and tripe. Mint and balm leaves for tea, chokecherries, berries, red bean and tipsin roots, and wild onions, artichokes, and plums are still added to the larder. Rattlesnake oil, skunk oil, sweet grass, cedar tree needles, and wild sage are used as medicines. In addition the Sioux at Standing Rock make wakmiza wasna by pounding corn meal and raisins into beef tallow, and forming the whole into small cakes. Wojapi is made of chokecherries, June berries, and flour, and some women add a little sugar to make a kind of pudding. Wild beans are taken from caches where they have been stored by mice, the supplies thus removed always being replaced with corn. Kinnikinik or killiklik, a mixture used for smoking, is made of dried and shredded red willow bark, sprinkled with tobacco.

Some basketry is still made, and most of the Indian groups do tanning and very good beadwork. Porcupine quills, horse hair, and feathers are employed in the designs in embroidery, and elk teeth, shells, colored clays, and weasel tails are used for adornments. Objects of Indian art are on display and for sale at the annual fairs on the reservations, and usually can be purchased at the agencies or subagencies.

Complicating the struggle for existence for most of the tribes is the prevalence of tuberculosis, of which one-third of the people at Standing Rock are said to be victims. Trachoma also is common. In spite of these facts, however, the tribes are gaining rapidly in numbers, with an average birth rate more than twice as high as the death rate.

The Government has sought to aid the Indian in his transition to the new culture by giving him a part in the realm of political relations. All the reservations have native police, employed by the Government; and Standing Rock has two Indian police judges, who hear all cases and pass sentence on all minor Indian violations of law. At Turtle Mountain there are no Government restrictions in the use of land and stock, and the tribe has complete charge of property. All the Indian groups except that at Fort Totten have tribal councils, which, while their legal powers are not great, have considerable weight in an advisory capacity.

The acceptance by the tribes of the white man's fundamental educational principle of daily formal schooling has had a large part in their assimilation. Mission schools established by the various churches frequently brought the first formal education to the Indians, and most of the groups are still served by such schools. Small and large Government schools have been provided to give the Indian child the same educational opportunity as that afforded the white. Fort Totten and Turtle Mountain both have consolidated Indian schools, and a boarding school offering high school work is maintained at Wahpeton.

In spite of their work in these schools and the fact that they are fast becoming fluent speakers of English, in most instances the Indians are retaining their native tongues. An exception to this is at Turtle Mountain, where due to intermarriage of French and Indian the Algonquian mother tongue of the Chippewa is dying out.

While doubtless many ancient habits and customs are retained, such as those pertaining to marriage, formal tribal ceremonies do not appear to be conducted to any great extent at the present time. Marriage assumes the Christian form, and the Christian religion has been generally adopted, with the Catholic, Episcopalian, and Congregational faiths most commonly represented. The ancient tribal religions still exert a powerful influence, however—a fact especially evident at such times as the performance of the annual Arikara ceremonies on the Fort Berthold Reservation and the yearly sun dance of the Chippewa at Turtle Mountain. The large sun dance held at Little Eagle in South Dakota in 1936 by the Sioux of the Standing Rock Agency was the first conducted by that tribe in more than 50 years.

The Indians often participate in the social dances, such as the Omaha grass dance, the rabbit dance, and the hoop dance; and dancing in native costume can be seen occasionally, particularly during Fourth of July celebrations and at the annual fairs. The latter are held on most of the reservations some time in September and October. Music for the strictly Indian dancing consists of singing accompanied by drums—the small Indian hand drums or tom-toms, and the white man's big bass drum. Formerly a large drum of Indian manufacture was used; and rattles, string bells, and flutelike whistles are still made.

A great many group activities center at the schools and churches, where take place the usual athletic, social, and religious events and gatherings found in white communities.