Myths and Legends of the Sioux
by Marie L. McLaughlin
In
loving memory of my mother,
MARY GRAHAM BUISSON,
at whose knee most of the stories
contained in this little
volumewere told to me, this book is affec-
tionately dedicated
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Dedication
Foreword
The Forgotten Ear of Corn
The Little Mice
The Pet Rabbit
The Pet Donkey
The Rabbit and the Elk
The Rabbit and the Grouse Girls
The Faithful Lovers
The Artichoke and the Muskrat
The Rabbit, and the Bear with the Flint Body
Story of the Lost Wife
The Raccoon and the Crawfish
Legend of Standing Rock
Story of the Peace Pipe
A Bashful Courtship
The Simpleton's Wisdom
Little Brave and the Medicine Woman
The Bound Children
The Signs of Corn
Story of the Rabbits
How the Rabbit Lost His Tail
Unktomi and the Arrowheads
The Bear and the Rabbit Hunt Buffalo
The Brave Who Went on the Warpath Alone and
Won the Name of the Lone Warrior
The Sioux Who Married the Crow Chief's
Daughter
The Boy and the Turtles
The Hermit, or the Gift of Corn
The Mysterious Butte
The Wonderful Turtle
The Man and the Oak
Story of the Two Young Friends
The Story of the Pet Crow
The "Wasna" (Pemmican Man) and the Unktomi (Spider)
The Resuscitation of the Only Daughter
The Story of the Pet Crane
White Plume
Story of Pretty Feathered Forehead
The Four Brothers or Inyanhoksila (Stone Boy)
The Unktomi (Spider), Two Widows and the Red Plums
FOREWORD
In publishing these "Myths of the Sioux," I deem it proper to state
that I am of one-fourth Sioux blood. My
maternal grandfather,
Captain Duncan Graham, a Scotchman by birth, who had seen service
in the British Army, was one of a party of Scotch Highlanders who
in 1811 arrived in the British Northwest by way of York Factory,
Hudson Bay, to found what was known as the Selkirk Colony, near
Lake Winnipeg, now within the
province of Manitoba, Canada. Soon
after his
arrival at Lake Winnipeg he proceeded up the Red River of
the North and the
western fork thereof to its source, and thence
down the Minnesota River to Mendota, the confluence of the
Minnesota and Mississippi Rivers, where he located. My
grandmother, Ha-za-ho-ta-win, was a full-blood of the Medawakanton
Band of the Sioux Tribe of Indians. My father, Joseph Buisson,
born near Montreal, Canada, was connected with the American Fur
Company, with
headquarters at Mendota, Minnesota, which point was
for many years the chief distributing depot of the American Fur
Company, from which the Indian trade conducted by that company on
the upper Mississippi was directed.
I was born December 8, 1842, at Wabasha, Minnesota, then Indian
country, and resided thereat until fourteen years of age, when I
was sent to school at Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin.
I was married to Major James McLaughlin at Mendota, Minnesota,
January 28, 1864, and resided in Minnesota until July 1, 1871, when
I accompanied my husband to Devils Lake Agency, North Dakota, then
Dakota Territory, where I remained ten years in most friendly
relations with the Indians of that
agency. My husband was Indian
agent at Devils Lake Agency, and in 1881 was transferred to
Standing Rock, on the Missouri River, then a very important
agency,
to take
charge of the Sioux who had then but recently surrendered
to the military authorities, and been brought by
steamboat from
various points on the upper Missouri, to be
permanently located on
the Standing Rock reservation.
Having been born and reared in an Indian
community, I at an early
age acquired a
thorough knowledge of the Sioux language, and having
lived on Indian reservations for the past forty years in a position
which brought me very near to the Indians, whose confidence I
possessed, I have,
therefore, had
exceptional opportunities of
learning the legends and folk-lore of the Sioux.
The stories contained in this little
volume were told me by the
older men and women of the Sioux, of which I made careful notes as
related,
knowing that, if not recorded, these fairy tales would be
lost to
posterity by the passing of the
primitive Indian.
The notes of a song or a
strain of music coming to us through the
night not only give us pleasure by the
melody they bring, but also
give us knowledge of the
character of the
singer or of the
instrument from which they proceed. There is something in the
music which unerringly tells us of its source. I believe musicians
call it the "timbre" of the sound. It is independent of, and
different from, both pitch and
rhythm; it is the
texture of the
music itself.
The "timbre" of a people's stories tells of the qualities of that
people's heart. It is the
texture of the thought, independent of
its form or fashioning, which tells the quality of the mind from
which it springs.
In the "timbre" of these stories of the Sioux, told in the lodges
and at the camp fires of the past, and by the firesides of the
Dakotas of today, we recognize the very
texture of the thought of
a simple, grave, and
sincere people, living in
intimatecontact and
friendship with the big out-of-doors that we call Nature; a race
not yet under
standing all things, not proud and boastful, but
honest and childlike and fair; a simple,
sincere, and
gravelythoughtful people,
willing to believe that there may be in even the
everyday things of life something not yet fully understood; a race
that can, without any loss of native
dignity,
gravely consider the
simplest things, seeking to
fathom their meaning and to learn their
lesson--equally without vain-glorious boasting and trifling
cynicism; an
earnest,
thoughtful,
dignified, but simple and
primitive people.
To the children of any race these stories can not fail to give
pleasure by their vivid imaging of the simple things and creatures
of the great out-of-doors and the epics of their
doings. They will
also give an
intimateinsight into the mentality of an interesting
race at a most interesting stage of development, which is now fast
receding into the mists of the past.
MARIE L. McLAUGHLIN (Mrs. James McLaughlin).
McLaughlin, S. D., May 1, 1913.
THE FORGOTTEN EAR OF CORN
An Arikara woman was once
gathering corn from the field to store
away for winter use. She passed from stalk to stalk, tearing off
the ears and dropping them into her folded robe. When all was
gathered she started to go, when she heard a faint voice, like a
child's,
weeping and calling:
"Oh, do not leave me! Do not go away without me."
The woman was astonished. "What child can that be?" she asked
herself. "What babe can be lost in the cornfield?"
She set down her robe in which she had tied up her corn, and went
back to search; but she found nothing.
As she started away she heard the voice again:
"Oh, do not leave me. Do not go away without me."
She searched for a long time. At last in one corner of the field,
hidden under the leaves of the stalks, she found one little ear of
corn. This it was that had been crying, and this is why all Indian
women have since garnered their corn crop very carefully, so that
the succulent food product should not even to the last small nubbin
be neglected or wasted, and thus
displease the Great Mystery.
THE LITTLE MICE
Once upon a time a
prairie mouse busied herself all fall storing
away a cache of beans. Every morning she was out early with her
empty cast-off snake skin, which she filled with ground beans and
dragged home with her teeth.
The little mouse had a cousin who was fond of dancing and talk, but
who did not like to work. She was not careful to get her cache of
beans and the season was already well gone before she thought to
bestir herself. When she came to realize her need,
she found she had no packing bag. So she went to her hardworking
cousin and said:
"Cousin, I have no beans stored for winter and the season is nearly
gone. But I have no snake skin to gather the beans in. Will you
lend me one?"
"But why have you no packing bag? Where were you in the moon when
the snakes cast off their skins?"
"I was here."
"What were you doing?"
"I was busy talking and dancing."
"And now you are punished," said the other. "It is always so with
lazy,
careless people. But I will let you have the snake skin.
And now go, and by hard work and industry, try to recover your
wasted time."
THE PET RABBIT
A little girl owned a pet
rabbit which she loved
dearly. She
carried it on her back like a babe, made for it a little pair of
moccasins, and at night shared with it her own robe.
Now the little girl had a cousin who loved her very
dearly and
wished to do her honor; so her cousin said to herself:
"I love my little cousin well and will ask her to let me carry her
pet
rabbit around;" (for thus do Indian women when they wish to
honor a friend; they ask
permission to carry about the friend's
babe).
She then went to the little girl and said:
"Cousin, let me carry your pet
rabbit about on my back. Thus shall
I show you how I love you."
Her mother, too, said to her: "Oh no, do not let our little
grandchild go away from our tepee."
But the cousin answered: "Oh, do let me carry it. I do so want to
show my cousin honor." At last they let her go away with the pet
rabbit on her back.
When the little girl's cousin came home to her tepee, some rough
boys who were playing about began to make sport of her. To tease
the little girl they threw stones and sticks at the pet
rabbit. At
last a stick struck the little
rabbit upon the head and
killed it.
When her pet was brought home dead, the little
rabbit's adopted
mother wept
bitterly. She cut off her hair for
mourning and all
her little girl friends wailed with her. Her mother, too, mourned
with them.
"Alas!" they cried, "alas, for the little
rabbit. He was always
kind and gentle. Now your child is dead and you will be lonesome."
The little girl's mother called in her little friends and made a
great
mourning feast for the little
rabbit. As he lay in the tepee