The Autobiographies & Biographies of the Most Influential Native Americans. Charles A. Eastman
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There were three brothers of your family among them, all of whom were noted for valor and the chase.
“Seven battles were fought in succession before they turned to come back. They had secured a number of the enemy’s birch canoes, and the whole party came floating down the Mississippi, joyous and happy because of their success.
“But one night the war-chief announced that there was misfortune at hand. The next day no one was willing to lead the fleet. The youngest of the three brothers finally declared that he did not fear death, for it comes when least expected and he volunteered to take the lead.
“It happened that this young man had left a pretty maiden behind him, whose choice needlework adorned his quiver. He was very handsome as well as brave.
“At daybreak the canoes were again launched upon the bosom of the great river. All was quiet—a few birds beginning to sing. Just as the sun peeped through the eastern tree-tops a great warcry came forth from the near shores, and there was a rain of arrows. The birchen canoes were pierced, and in the excitement many were capsized.
“The Sioux were at a disadvantage. There was no shelter. Their bow-strings and the feathers on their arrows were wet. The bold Ojibways saw their advantage and pressed closer and closer; but our men fought desperately, half in and half out of the water, until the enemy was forced at last to retreat. Nevertheless that was a sad day for the Wahpeton Sioux; but saddest of all was Winona’s fate!
“Morning Star, her lover, who led the canoe fleet that morning, was among the slain. For two days the Sioux braves searched in the water for their dead, but his body was not recovered.
“At home, meanwhile, the people had been alarmed by ill omens. Winona, eldest daughter of the great chief, one day entered her birch canoe alone and paddled up the Mississippi, gazing now into the water around her, now into the blue sky above. She thought she heard some young men giving courtship calls in the distance, just as they do at night when approaching the teepee of the beloved; and she knew the voice of Morning Star well! Surely she could distinguish his call among the others! Therefore she listened yet more intently, and looked skyward as her light canoe glided gently up stream.
“Ah, poor Winona! She saw only six sandhill cranes, looking no larger than mosquitoes, as they flew in circles high up in the sky, going east where all spirits go. Something said to her: ‘Those are the spirits of some of the Sioux braves, and Morning Star is among them!’ Her eye followed the birds as they traveled in a chain of circles.
“Suddenly she glanced downward. ‘What is this?’ she screamed in despair. It was Morning Star’s body, floating down the river; his quiver, worked by her own hands and now dyed with his blood, lay upon the surface of the water.
“‘Ah, Great Mystery! why do you punish a poor girl so? Let me go with the spirit of Morning Star!’
“It was evening. The pale moon arose in the east and the stars were bright. At this very hour the news of the disaster was brought home by a returning scout, and the village was plunged in grief, but Winona’s spirit had flown away. No one ever saw her again.
“This is enough for to-day, my boy. You may come again to-morrow.”
II. The Stone Boy
“Ho, mita koda!” (welcome, friend!) was Smoky Day’s greeting, as I entered his lodge on the third day. “I hope you did not dream of a watery combat with the Ojibways, after the history I repeated to you yesterday,” the old sage continued, with a complaisant smile playing upon his face.
“No,” I said, meekly, “but, on the other hand, I have wished that the sun might travel a little faster, so that I could come for another story.”
“Well, this time I will tell you one of the kind we call myths or fairy stories. They are about men and women who do wonderful things—things that ordinary people cannot do at all. Sometimes they are not exactly human beings, for they partake of the nature of men and beasts, or of men and gods. I tell you this beforehand, so that you may not ask any questions, or be puzzled by the inconsistency of the actors in these old stories.
“Once there were ten brothers who lived with their only sister, a young maiden of sixteen summers. She was very skilful at her embroidery, and her brothers all had beautifully worked quivers and bows embossed with porcupine quills. They loved and were kind to her, and the maiden in her turn loved her brothers dearly, and was content with her position as their housekeeper. They were great hunters, and scarcely ever remained at home during the day, but when they returned at evening they would relate to her all their adventures.
“One night they came home one by one with their game, as usual, all but the eldest, who did not return. It was supposed by the other brothers that he had pursued a deer too far from the lodge, or perhaps shot more game than he could well carry; but the sister had a presentiment that something dreadful had befallen him. She was partially consoled by the second brother, who offered to find the lost one in the morning.
“Accordingly, he went in search of him, while the rest set out on the hunt as usual. Toward evening all had returned safely, save the brother who went in search of the absent. Again, the next older brother went to look for the others, and he too returned no more. All the young men disappeared one by one in this manner, leaving their sister alone.
“The maiden’s sorrow was very great. She wandered everywhere, weeping and looking for her brothers, but found no trace of them. One day she was walking beside a beautiful little stream, whose clear waters went laughing and singing on their way. She could see the gleaming pebbles at the bottom, and one in particular seemed so lovely to her tear-bedimmed eyes, that she stooped and picked it up, dropping it within her skin garment into her bosom. For the first time since her misfortunes she had forgotten herself and her sorrow.
“At last she went home, much happier than she had been, though she could not have told the reason why. On the following day she sought again the place where she had found the pebble, and this time she fell asleep on the banks of the stream, When she awoke, there lay a beautiful babe in her bosom.
“She took it up and kissed it many times. And the child was a boy, but it was heavy like a stone, so she called him a ‘Little Stone Boy.’ The maiden cried no more, for she was very happy with her baby. The child was unusually knowing, and walked almost from its birth.
“One day Stone Boy discovered the bow and arrows of one of his uncles, and desired to have them; but his mother cried, and said:
“‘Wait, my son, until you are a young man.’ She made him some little ones, and with these he soon learned to hunt, and killed small game enough to support them both. When he had grown to be a big boy, he insisted upon knowing whose were the ten bows that still hung upon the walls of his mother’s lodge.
“At last she was obliged to tell him the sad story of her loss.
“‘Mother, I shall go in search of my uncles,’ exclaimed the Stone Boy.
“‘But you will be lost like them,’ she replied, ‘and then I shall die of grief.’
“‘No, I shall not be lost. I shall bring your ten brothers back to you. Look, I will give you a sign. I will take a pillow, and place it upon end. Watch this, for as long as I am living the pillow will stay as I put it. Mother, give me some food and some moccasins with which to travel!’
“Taking the bow of one of his uncles, with its quiver full of arrows, the Stone Boy departed. As he journeyed through the forest he spoke to every animal he met, asking for news of his lost uncles. Sometimes he called to them at the top of his voice. Once he thought he heard an answer, so he walked in the direction of the sound. But it was only a great grizzly bear who had wantonly mimicked the boy’s call. Then Stone Boy was greatly provoked.
“‘Was it you who answered my call, you longface?’ he exclaimed.
“Upon