(2.) THE LAST RACE.
(See [page 1304].)
The rule is absolute that the man may not be released until the skewers have been fairly torn through the flesh. Mr. Catlin relates two remarkable anecdotes illustrative of this fact. In the one case the skewer had been unfortunately passed under a sinew. The poor lad was in vain dragged round the ring, and in vain did his friends throw themselves on the elk skull that was hung to him. At last the spectators set up a cry of distress, and the master of the ceremonies stopped the runners, leaving the senseless body lying on the ground. Presently the lad recovered himself, looked at the cause of his torment, and with a pleasant smile crawled on his hands and knees to the prairie, where he remained for three days longer without food or drink, until suppuration took place, and enabled him to release himself from his encumbrance. He crawled on his hands and knees to his home, and, in spite of his sufferings, recovered in a few days.
In the other case, two of the weights attached to the arms could not be removed. The unfortunate wretch crawled to the precipitous bank of the river, and drove a stake into the ground. To this stake he fastened the weights by two ropes, and let himself down half-way to the water. In this terrible position he hung for more than two days, until the too stubborn flesh at last gave way, and let him fall into the water. He swam to the side, made his way up the steep bank, and recovered.
Such instances as these, terrible as they are at the time, are never regretted by those to whom they occur, as they offer means of proving their valor and endurance, and any one who has overcome them is held in much consideration by the rest of the tribe.
Dreadful as is the whole scene of suffering, and sufficient to kill an ordinary white man, several of the warriors have undergone it more than once, and Mr. Catlin saw by the scars left on the body and limbs that some of the chief Mandan braves had submitted to the torture no less than five times. Some part of the estimation in which such men are held is owing to the belief of the Mandans that the annual supply of bisons depends on the proper fulfilling of these ceremonies, and that the Great Spirit is gratified in proportion to the number of times that the rites are performed. Thus those who have undergone them repeatedly are benefactors to the tribe in general, and as such receive their gratitude.
A somewhat similar system prevails among the Dacotah or Sioux Indians, as they are generally called. This, however, is a voluntary proceeding very rarely seen, and one which is intended simply to raise the candidate to the rank of medicine man. A tall and slender pole is set firmly in the ground, and to the top of it is fastened one end of a rope, the other being made into a loop. The candidate for mystic honors takes his place at the pole before dawn, painted gaily, and holding his medicine bag in his hand. Just before the sun rises, two skewers are passed through his breast, as is done by the Mandans, and the loop of the rope is passed over them.
The man now stands opposite the spot where the sun will rise, fixes his eyes upon it, and leans backward so as to throw the whole weight of his body on the rope, his feet serving more to balance than sustain him. As the sun passes over the heavens, he moves gradually round, never speaking nor taking his eyes from it; and if he can endure this torture from sunrise to sunset without fainting, he earns the rank to which he aspires, together with all the valuable presents which are laid at the foot of the pole by his admirers.
There is great risk attending this practice. Should the man faint in spite of the shouts and cheering cries of his friends, and the prayers and songs of the medicine men who sit around the pole, chanting and beating their magic drums, his reputation is lost, and he will ever afterward be held up to ridicule as one who had the presumption to set up for a medicine man, and had no power to sustain the character.
The Mandans have a curious mode of obtaining the rank of medicine man, resembling in many points the rain making ceremonies of Africa. As they depend much for their subsistence on the maize which they grow, a drought is always a great calamity, and must be averted if possible. When such an event occurs, the women, whose business it is to till the ground, come to the chiefs and doctors, and beg them to make rain, lest the corn should die. A council is then held, and the medicine men assemble in the council-house, and go through their preliminary ceremonies. No one is allowed to enter the house except the medicine men and those candidates who aspire to that rank.
There are generally ten or fifteen young men who prize that rank so highly that they are willing to run the risk of failure, and to lose all reputation in their tribe if they fail in drawing down the rain from the sky. They are called one by one out of the lodge, and take their position on the roof, when they go through the ceremonies which they think will produce the desired rain. They stand there from sunrise to sunset, and if no rain falls, they go to their houses disgraced, and debarred from all hope of being admitted into the Council of the tribe. Should, however, the rain descend, the reputation of the rain maker is assured, and he is at once admitted into the council among the chiefs and greatest braves.