Prairie Smoke, a Collection of Lore of the Prairies

by Melvin R. Gilmore

THE SONG OF THE OLD WOLF

There is a story told among the people of the Dakota nation that once on a time an old man went out, to be alone upon a high hill above the Missouri River to give himself to meditation and prayer. He chose this situation because of the grandeur and majesty of the view, of the great sweep of the prairie plains and hills, one hill beyond another away and away to the far horizon. Below flowed the wonderful and mysterious river, whose waters came down from the mighty mountains at the west and rolled on and on past the villages of many different nations, finally reaching the great salt water.

As the old man thus sat meditating and considering all the manifestations of life and power and mystery of earth and sky, he espied out upon the prairie a group of wolves trotting toward the river. When they reached the river they plunged in and swam across to the other side; all but one old one who was now too enfeebled by age to dare try his strength against the swift and powerful current of the river.

This old wolf sat down upon the bank of the river and watched his companions as they swam across and trotted away out of sight on the other side. When they had disappeared from sight he raised his muzzle towards the sky and mournfully sang in a man’s voice the following song:

All o’er the earth I’ve roamed,
I’ve journeyed far and wide;
My spirit haste and go,
I’m nothing, nothing now,
I’m nothing, nothing now.

Missouri River, flow,
Thou sacred water flow;
My spirit haste and go,
I’m nothing, nothing now,
I’m nothing, nothing now.

After the old wolf had sung this song he wearily made his way to the top of a hill and lay down in the warm sunshine, in the shelter of a rock and there waited until his spirit went away.

And so now, when old men of the Dakota nation feel the infirmities of age creeping upon them, and as though they had been left behind in life’s march, when they feel the depression of loneliness, will often go out alone to the summit of some high hill overlooking the Missouri River, and sitting there in solitude will muse upon their activities and noteworthy deeds in the past, of their companions of former days now long gone from them, and contrast all this with their present inactivity and loneliness. Then they will sadly and quaveringly sing this “Song of the Old Wolf.”

Note.—The English translation and rendering into verse is the work of Dr. A. McG. Beede, of Fort Yates, North Dakota. The original song in the Dakota language is as follows:

Maka takomni
Tehan omawani;
Minagi yayayo,
Wana matakuni,
Mni-shoshe yayo
Mni wakan yayo;
Minagi yayayo,
Wana matakuni,
Wana matakuni,
O he-he-he!