“Little Sallie” was the first to appear before the bar of justice, and, without an attorney, she filed a complaint against her husband, the substance of which was to the effect, that “Cho-kus”—her master—had made arrangements to buy another wife, paying two horses; and that these horses belonged to her individually, and she was not willing to furnish horses to buy another woman, because it would leave but one horse in the family, and that Cho-kus and the new wife would claim that one, and she would be compelled to go on foot. If Cho-kus had plenty of horses she might not object; but she thought that she could dig roots, and gather “wokus”—wild rice—enough for the family, and Cho-kus did not need another “nohow.” But, if he persisted, then she wanted a Boston divorce, otherwise she did not.
Cho-kus was required to show cause why “Sallie” should not be made free. He appeared in person, and expressed willingness for the separation, but asked to know who would be awarded the baby,—a little fellow twelve months old. The court decided that “Sallie” should have possession of the child. Cho-kus took it from its mother’s arms, and, holding it in his own, looked very earnestly and silently into its face for a moment. His speech ran in something like the following words: “Now half this baby’s heart is mine, half its heart belongs to ‘Sallie.’” Then slowly drawing the little finger of one hand from its forehead down its face and body, he went on to say, “I want this child’s heart, and ‘Sallie’ wants it; if we cut into it it will die; I can’t give up my part of it.” Sallie attempted to snatch it away, saying, “I won’t give up my part of the baby.” This brought
the husband to terms. He said he would give up taking another wife. Sallie agreed, and the court proposed that, instead of being divorced, they should be married over by “Boston law.” They consented. The ceremony was deferred in order to make preparation for the approaching nuptials, under the auspices of the new law.
The white ladies of the agency, some of whom were unmarried, proposed to adorn the bride, while the employés furnished enough Sunday clothes to dress the husband in good style. Employés and Indians were notified of the important affair, and the court adjourned to the big camp-fire, in order to perform the marriage ceremony in the presence of all the people. The presiding judge pro tem. ordered the parties to appear.
The groom, dressed in a borrowed suit, was the first to stand up. Sallie hesitated; the husband insisted. The bride was reluctant, saying she wanted to know how long the new law would hold “Cho-kus.”—“Is it a strong law? Won’t he buy another wife some time?” When all the questions were answered to her satisfaction, she passed her child over to another woman, and stood beside her lover. Yes, her lover; for he then discovered that he really loved her, just as many a white-faced man has in similar cases, when he realized the danger of losing her.
The official reporter, on this occasion, did not furnish an account of the bride’s dress, but for the satisfaction, it may be, to my young lady readers, I will say that the toilet was elaborately gotten up a-la-mode, consisting of immense tilting hoops, bright-hued goods for dress, paint in profusion on her cheeks,
necklace of beads, and shells, and tresses of dark hair, “all her own,” ornamented with cheap jewelry. This being the first marriage under the new law, the chief remarked that be wished them “tied very strong, so they could not get away from each other.”
We extemporized the ceremony as follows: “Cho-kus, do you agree to live forever with Sallie, and not buy another squaw? To do the hunting and fishing, cut wood and haul it up, like white man? Never to get drunk, or talk bad to other women, and to be a good, faithful husband?” When the ceremony was interpreted, he answered, “Now-wit-ka ni-hi;” yes, I do. Sallie said, “Hold on,—I want him married to me so he won’t whip me any more.” We adopted the supplement suggested, and Cho-kus again said, “Now-wit-ka.” The bride said, “All right,” and promised to be a good wife, to take care of the lodge and the baby, to dress the deer-skins, and dry the roots.
Cho-kus also suggested a supplement, which was, that Sallie must not “go to the fort” any more without him. She assented, with a proviso that he would not go to see “old Mose-en-kos-ket’s” daughter any more.
The covenant was now completed, to the satisfaction of bride and bridegroom, and the Great Spirit was invoked to witness the pledges made; their hands were joined, and they were pronounced husband and wife. A waggish white man whispered to Allen David, the chief, that the bride must be saluted. The chief inquired whether that was the way of the new law, saying he wanted “a real Boston wedding.” We said to Cho-kus, “Salute your bride.” He replied he thought the ceremony was over; but, when