The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1898-10-16
well directed bullets would destroy his
prestige as chief and prophet.

well directed bullets would destroy his
prestige as chief and prophet.
The squaw winter is just passed In
Minnesota now and the Indian summer
is blazing in the crimson naples and
signing in the golden cottonToods as
their fluttering leaves drop into the
brown grass. All night long the young
warriors dance around their campfire
swinging and tossing their weapons
They have been enchanted by the medi-
cine men and anointed. The Indian
fighters know that 1t means serious
work when the Indians dance their wal
dance, for their dances are not ito the
lacivious pleasing Of the Lutte but are
old religious rites born in the Indian
with his bones and blood.
The oldest women of the village sit
and beat monotonous sing-song on
the tom toms nd chant an accompani-
ment of "Ki-yi- yi-yi," which rises and
falls at regular intervals. The braves
painted and nearly naked, dance and
they sing their sacred war song. We
have seen how the "Star-Spangled
Banner" can inspire our troops as they
go into battle; to the Indian, all his
ancestors are calling him; he forgets
his civilization and is a free wild saw
age again as he sings the songs which
the Indians never forget. No one who
does not know the Indian knows how
he is moved by these songs, for he
knows he is an exile in his own land.
He remembers all his wrongs and
swears to be revenged.
With his knees bent and elbows
akimbo one brave begins the dance
and the others join in:
What is this 1 employ to enchant?
SerpentS are my friends.
And in the pause which follows every
brave in the circle prays to his friend,
the serpent, to give his aid.
They call upon the OWL who can see
in the dark; upon the wolf, who never
sleeps; upon the flame, which sweeps
everything before 1t on the prairie.
The dance goes on and a brave is
filed with the inspiration of war and
then another and another and they
leave off their prayers for aid because
they believe the aid has oeen granted
which old settlers in Minnesota remem-
Der they dance in wider circles, stamp
ing out their campfire preparatory to
beginning the fight, and chant in their
own language:
1 wish for the speed of bird, to pounce
on the enemy
1 look to the morning star to guide my
1 devote my body to battle:
1 take courage from the fight of eagles.
L dul WllllHB 10 DC NUMBERED With the
slain,
For even then my name shall be repeated
with praise.
AS child I went to sleep at night
with the stories of my old Chippewa
Indian nurse. She was full blooded
squaw who had married a French Ca
madam who came on snowshoes across
the country from Canada. He had be-
come very rich selling the furs which
his relations with the Indians through
his wife made easy of access to him.
He had brought back later a white
woman who was his wife. The Indian
woman said little. It was the usual
story. She had no redress and knew it.
One day the white wife, with her lit
tie boy, was sitting in her carriage
waiting before store on Third street.
An Indian woman she had never seen
before was sitting on the sidewalk dis
playing her stock Of moccasins and
beaded pincushions and warehouses;,
which she had made to sell.
The squaw on the sidewalk watched
the white woman In the carriage, and
when the man who had taken her order
went back into the store the squaw
threw herself upon the white woman.