Chief Bear Ghost
The great Siouan, or Dakota family, is divided into many different tribes. They are the dislocated remains of the “Seven Great Council Fires.” The Indians resent the title of Sioux, meaning “Hated Foe,” and prefer the word Dakota, which means “Leagued,” or “Allied.” There is the Brule Sioux, meaning “Burnt Hip”; the Teton, “On a Land without Trees”; the Santee Sioux, “Men Among Leaves,” a forest; the Sisseton Sioux, “Men of Prairie Marsh,” and the Yankton Sioux, which means, “At the End.” Chief Bear Ghost is a Yankton Sioux. Among the Dakotas the chiefs are distinguished by a name that has either some reference to their abilities, having signalized themselves on the warpath or in the chase, or it may be handed down from father to son. Chief Bear Ghost bears the hereditary name of his father, Mato-wanagi—the ghost of a bear. The Dakotas [pg 97] count their years by winters, and all their records are called winter counts. They say a man is so many snows old, or that so many snow-seasons have occurred since a certain period. Adopting their own phrasing Chief Ghost Bear is fifty-seven snows old. Custer was not poetical when he gave the Sioux the name of “cut-throats,” but he may have been true to the character and history of these fierce and warlike tribes. We may not wonder then that Bear Ghost should say: “The greatest event in my life was the participation in two great wars. I was on the warpath on the Missouri River against the Gros Ventres and the Mandans. It was a hard, fierce struggle; we had been facing and shooting each other from early dawn until the sun went down. An Indian near me, an enemy, was shot, and when I went after him my horse was shot, but still I pressed on and struck the enemy with a tomahawk. One of the enemy aimed at me, but I struck him with the tomahawk before he could shoot, and when this struggle was over the Indians called us men. In other years we came to that same place again. Two enemies were near the camp; they were armed with guns. There were seven of the enemy and but two of us. We went right up to the camp. I shot one of the enemy and wounded him, and captured one of their horses. Then a great number of Indians came out and chased us. They [pg 98] surrounded us, shooting all the while, and the horse I had taken from the enemy I shot rather than let them have it. And while they were chasing me my horse became exhausted and I had to get off and lead him. I ran into the creek where my enemies were on the banks shooting at me. These two things I consider the greatest events in my life, for I expected to die each time. Then I was made head chief of my tribe.”
Before the police system was established on the reservation, Bear Ghost, along with one other Indian, was detailed by Captain Daugherty to watch for and capture a man who had committed murder. Bear Ghost succeeded in carrying out this commission, and the sheriff was sent for and the prisoner turned over to him, but on the way to Bismarck the prisoner killed the sheriff, jumped onto the best horse, and made his escape. Bear Ghost has often been chosen by his people to represent them at councils held among other tribes. He was also sent to Washington, on matters pertaining to treaties made years ago. He wears the countenance of a Roman senator; he is tall, graceful, and full of dignity, a forceful and convincing speaker, and a compelling advocate of peace.
Chief Running Fisher
Chief Running Fisher [2]
The story of this war-scarred Gros Ventres veteran emphasizes with double pathos the many times expressed sentiment [pg 99] of this book that the Indian is a vanishing race, for he died within two weeks after returning home from the last Great Indian Council. His words, therefore, are deeply significant: “I feel sad at the thought of not meeting these chiefs again, for I would like to meet them all once more, but I feel pretty sure we will never meet again.”
Chief Running Fisher had measured threescore years of life, and for forty years of that time he had averaged a battle for every other year. Battles in Canada, battles in the mountains, and battles on the plains. He had fought the Sioux, the Blackfeet, the Nez Perce, the Crows, the Shoshones, and the Piegans. He said: “I have twenty shots in my body received in battle. I have had my arm broken and wrist sprained. A bullet went right through one of my arms. In early days I fought with the bow and arrow. In one battle I killed two men, shooting a single arrow through them both. The greatest event of my life occurred when I was shot at the battle of Big Spring and left for dead on the field. My friends kept back the enemy as long as they could and when they saw that I did not revive they left me. I was bleeding from the inside, a coughing of blood out of the throat brought me to. When I came to I found the enemy had departed and I followed the tracks of my own tribe. Some of my friends were shot and I could see by the blood stains on the [pg 100] snow the path they had taken. I was nineteen years of age at this time. It was a long time before I overtook the band. They travelled much faster than I could, but I finally reached the camp and recovered. We had no surgeons and but little care. Every Indian had to be his own doctor. I will tell you about another close call I had. The event that I am now about to relate is the main thing that makes a chief out of a warrior. We had a fight with the Piegans. One of the Piegans had a gun and a dagger, one in each hand. This Piegan ran at me and I ran at him. As we came together I grabbed the Piegan's gun with one hand and his dagger with the other and as I warded off his charge, his gun was fired, and I took the gun and the dagger away from him. Then my friends rushed to my rescue and killed the Piegan and scalped him.”
Turning from battles and wounds, let this old chieftain recur to his boyhood days: “I remember when I was quite a boy the wonderful sun dance. It greatly impressed me. I could not understand it and I asked my father about it and he told me that I could not take part in the sun dance until I had earned my title as a warrior. The sun dance is a custom among the Indians which seeks to elevate a spirit of honour among men as well as women. No young woman dare take part in the sun dance unless she is virtuous, for [pg 101] she is sure to be pointed out and put to shame, and if she does not take part, then suspicion falls upon her and she is likewise put to shame. The men emulate the deeds of their fathers in order that they may take part in the sun dance. And thus this wonderful dance becomes a school for patriotism among the tribes and a stimulus to deeds of valour as well as an incentive to virtue. I do not think that anything has ever made a stronger impression upon me than the sun dance. It was always held in May, a beautiful time of the year, and as we young people watched the various phases of the dance, both young men and young women desired to do right that we might have our share in this wonderful ceremony.”
This passing allusion to one of the great Indian rites and its influence upon Indian character may lead the reader to follow further into this weird enactment.
Another chieftain has been folded in his blanket. The war-bonnet and war-shirt he wears in the picture we made of him were laid beside him in his last sleep, emblems of his last battle and tokens of his final conquest.
Chief Bull Snake