When the tree flowered

by John G. Neihardt

“We are going on my first war party today, and it is very bad weather for fighting; but no snow has fallen in my story. The grass is getting strong; the animals are making fat; there is a warm wind blowing; and I am just a boy with long legs.

“After my vision quest people noticed me more than before, and they did not treat me like a little boy. So when it was time for a war party to start out, I went along on Whirlwind. There were thirty-seven of us, and we were not all Oglalas. Some of us were Miniconjous and Sans Arcs, and a few were Cheyennes, for we had camped together along the valley of the Greasy Grass that winter. Some of us were only boys getting started to be men; some had been in many fights and had scars to show; and there were a few who almost could have been the grandfathers of the boys.

“Crazy Horse was leading the party, and he was already getting a big name then, for he had a mysterious power. People talked about him, and told stories of his deeds in fights with the Crows and Shoshonis. Also he had fought the soldiers when the hundred were killed on the ridge, and that was a story too. He was not a big man, for I was even then almost as tall as he; and he was not a little man either; just above a little man, and he was not fat at all. He was slender and very strong; and his face was lean too. It looked sharpened like an arrowhead. They said he never wanted anything for himself but a good horse and weapons to fight for his people, and that he always gave everything away.

“His hair was not so dark as most other Lakotas’ hair, but was a little brown; and his skin was not so dark either. He always braided his hair with one braid down each side of his head, and he wore a braided buckskin with his medicine in a little bag at the end of it, also an eagle-bone whistle, like mine, tied on. This he always had with him.

“Just before the beginning of a battle, when they were ready to charge, he would get off his horse and take a handful of earth from a mole hill or an ant hill or a prairie dog’s house. This he would put between the horse’s ears and then on the hips of the horse. After that he would stand in front of the horse and throw the earth back over him. Then he would stand behind and throw some towards the horse’s head. Last, he would rub some of the earth from the horse and put it on his own head. He never wore a war bonnet in battle and he did not paint his face. He wore only one spotted-eagle feather tied in his hair and hanging down the back of his head. It was Chips, the wakon, who taught him to do this, and always advised him. He would be ahead in a fight, and when he killed an enemy he did not count coup. He would call others to take the honors. I think he had so many honors he did not want any more, but helped others to get them.

“He had a society of his own; not a feast and dance society, but just followers. They were called Ho-ksi-ha-ka-ta [The Last Child]. The last child in a family is not thought of as much as the others, and so he chose the last child to follow him. They were very brave warriors because they had to do great deeds and be honored even more than the first child. They were always trying to make themselves greater, and so they were not afraid to do anything.

“They say the ponies Crazy Horse rode never lasted very long. They wore out fast because of the great power that was in him. It was from a vision that he had. When he rode into a battle, he would remember his vision and be in it again, so that nothing in this world could hurt him. I do not know this, but so the people all put it out. They did not say it about other brave men, and I think it was so. When the Wasichus murdered him, they had to do it from behind when he was not ready for battle.

“I had seen him around the village as long as I could remember. People thought he was queer because he did not talk often, and sometimes he would not notice anybody. But he would stop to play with little children, and he liked to tease and joke them till they laughed. When he was on a war party, he was different. Then he would joke with the warriors, and tell funny stories. It kept them feeling good, so that they could fight better. They all liked him, and whatever he said, they would do that.

“We rode towards where the sun comes up when the summer days are long. The world was young and wide as day, and we were going almost to the end of it beyond Mini Shoshay [the Missouri]. We crossed the Rosebud and the Tongue and the Powder, and there were no enemies. The young grass was getting strong for our horses, and there were deer and elk in plenty, so that, man and horse, we feasted every night.

“There was story-telling around the fire when we had feasted; and there was always one I did not hear the end of, being over-full of meat and heavy sleep. When I had to take my turn along with older horse-guards; it was like a wonderful story with no one to tell it out there under the stars, listening to the horses chewing and blowing, and watching every shadow all around. It made me feel tall and brave, and something was always about to happen all at once, so I did not feel like sleeping.