North Dakota: A Guide to the Northern Prairie State

by Federal Writers' Project of the Works Progress Administration for the State of North Dakota

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.