Bennett, Emerson - Prairie Flower 01
Page 18
With this people, a wedding or a funeral was a very important affair ; and as I so journed some two months or more among them, ere my strength permitted me to de part, I had an opportunity of witnessing both. As the former was the first in order of occurrence, I shall proceed to describe it first.
The bride was an interesting Indian maiden, some seventeen years of age, and the groom a tall, athletic Indian, her senior by at least five more. Both were becom ingly decked with wampum belts, figured moccasins, and various ornaments worn around the neck and arms ; those of the maiden being bare above the elbow, and displaying her rich, dark skin to good ad vantage. Around the head of each was bound a wreath of ivy, diversified with a few sprigs of cedar, emblematical, as I was informed, of their love, which must ever remain green and unfading.
O O
The nuptial ceremony took place in the lodge of the bride, and was as follows : On the announcement that all was ready, a deputation of maidens, consisting for the most part of Prairie Flower and her com panions, surrounded the bride, and placing their hand on her head, asked her several questions pertaining to herself and lover, the most important of which were, if she truly loved him she was about to take for ever, and thought that marriage would in crease her happiness. Receiving replies in the affirmative, they commenced singing in a lov.^ melodious tone, the subjoined
BRIDAL SONG.
Blooming maiden,
Heavy laden With IK» V hopes, and joys, and fears
Sad with gladness,
Glad with sadness, Thou art going, young in years,
To another,
More than brother,
Father, mother,
Ur aught other WU«lt among thy race appear*.
We have bound thee, Aa we fovyid the*,
With unfading green wreathed the*
Emblem fitting,
Unremitting Must thy love forever be ;
That thou ever
Must endeavor
Not to sever,
Now, nor never, Bonds of time, eternity.
Now go, maiden,
Sweetly laden
With all blessings we've in store- Take him to thee,
Who did woo thee, Deeper love him than before :
God be sending
His defending,
Joy portending,
Never ending Blessings on thee, evermore !
On the conclusion of this song, each of the singers laid her right hand upon the head of the bride, and commenced danc ing around her in a circle. This lasted some ten minutes, during which time a deputation of Indian youths or what in any other tribe would have been termed braves led forward the groom to within a few feet of his intended, and commenced a similar dance around him, accompany ing it with a song, the same in sentiment, if not in language, as the one just given. This dance over, the youths and maidens fell back in two rows, facing each other, while the groom and bride modestly ad vanced, unattended, and took hold ^of hands.
In this manner all quitted the lodge for the open air, where the villagers were drawn up to receive them, and who imme diately formed a dense circle around them. Then, amid a deep silence, all kneeled upon the earth, and rising, pointed their right fore-lingers to the sky, and bowed to the four great points of compass. Then all, save the bride and groom, united in the following
BRIDAL CHORDS Joined in heart, and joined in hand,
By great Heaven's wise decree, Ye must ever so endeavor,
That you ne'er may parted be
Never ! never !
So, forever, May Almighty Power bless ye
In your prime,
And through all time, And on through all eternity !
As the chorus concluded, the ring opened.
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR
and the Old-Man-of-the-Mountains made his appearance, bearing in one hand a long staff, and in the other a horn cup of smoking incense, which he waved to and fro. Approaching the bride and groom, he held it between them, and lay ing his staff on their heads, and bidding them again join hands, he proceeded to tjh.'int, in a feeble, cracked voice, the
CLOSING MARRIAGE STRAIN.
As this incense to Heaven,
So your vows here are given, And written by angels above,
On the ponderous pages,
Of the great Book of Ages, And stamped with His great seal of Love.
By earth and by air,
By water and fire, By everything under the sun
By your own plighted faith,
To he true unto death, In God's name I pronounce you twain one.
Waving his stick once more above their Heads, and uttering his usual word " Onh- chi," Great Medicine retraced his steps to his lodge. On his departure, the friends of the newly married pair stepped forward in the order of relation, and greeted both with a hearty shaking of hands, and 'invo cations of blessings from the Great Spirit Then followed a feast prepared for the occasion, consisting principally of buffalo, bear and deer meat, together with that of v^ious wild fowls. This was eaten seat ed upon buffalo skins, and was served to the larger party by four waiters, two of both sexes. After this came one or two more songs, in which all joined, and a general dance closed the festivities of the day.
The funeral which I witnessed, was that of a young man greatly beloved by his tribe. The day succeeding his death, was the one appointed for the solemn ceremony of sepulture. Meantime the body remain ed in the lodge where the vital spark had been extinguished, and, locked up with it from all intrusion, remained also the near relatives of the deceased, fasting and em ploying their moments in prayer.
When the time for the funeral service ad arrived, four Indian youths who had been companions of the deceased, entered the lodge, and wrapping the body in a buf falo-hide, bore it to that of Great Medi- Wn-:, and deposited it on the ground, out
side. Hither followed tKe relatives, theii heads bound with withered flowers, and leaves, emblematical of tho decay of every thing earthly, however fair and beautiful. Forming a narrow circle round the body, they kneeled upon the earth, and placing their right hands upon the breast of tho departed, and their left upon their hearts, uttered low and plaintive moans the sig nal that all was ready for the mournful rite. Next appeared Prairie Flower, with three other maidens, and approaching the youths, all clasped hands and formed a ring outside the circle of kneeling and weeping relatives. Then they commenced walking round the living and dead, and as they passed the head of the latter, each uttered a short prayer that his noble spirit might find eternal rest beyond the grave. When this was concluded, Great Medicine appeared, holding in his hand a drum, which he beat rapidly a few times, where upon the remainder of the villagers came forth from their lodges, and formed a third circle outside of all. The second circl j now fell back to the largest, leaving a wid ) space between it and the mourners, wh i still remained kneeling as before. A short silence followed, when the leader of thj corpse bearers stepped forward and set forth, in a clear, musical tone, the manT virtues of the dead, and pronounced u eloquent eulogy over his remains.
On the conclusion of this, the speakei took his place among the rest, when aQ broke forth in the following
FUNERAL DIRGE.
Gone ! gone ! gone ! From earth gone forever :
No more here we'll meet him, No more here we'll greet him,
No more, nevermore
All is o'er, evermore
Forever ! forever ! He's gone from the mortal He's passed Death's great portal-
And now will his spirit
Forever inherit,
In regions of bliss,
What it could not in this. Passed from all sorrow,
Vexation and care, Gone to the regions
That bright angels share, In yon golden Heaven
His spirit will rest, Vith joys the most holy
Forever be blessed.
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST.
Wep ! weep ! weep ! But weep not in sorrow : With tears bend above him, With tears show you love him But weep for relief,
Rather than grief
For to-inorrow to-morrow Ye may join him in glory, To tell the bright story, Of earthly denials, Losses and trials, Of unwavering faith, Of your joy to meet death, That your spirit in freedom
Forever might roam, O'er the sweet vales of Eden,
Your last lovely home To join there in singing,
As bright angels do, The songs of Great Spirit, Eternity through
This was sung to a mournful tune, and when the last strain had died away upon the air, all simultaneously dropped upon their knees, and bowed their heads to the earth in token of submission to the Divine will. Then they rose to their feet; mourn ers and all, and forming themselves into two long lines, the four bearers proceeded to raise the corpse slowly and in silence ; and preceded by Great Medicine, and fol- low^dby the maidens, the relatives and the rest, two by two, all moved solemnly for ward to the last earthly resting place of the de?d a rude grave scooped out in the side of *he mountain, some forty rods dis tant from the village.
Deporiting the body in the ground with iril due -everence, the bearers threw upon it a hardful of loose earth, and moved aside for the others to do the same. This eoncludei, the villagers formed a large ring around the open grave, when Great Med'cim stepped forward to the center aoi! «sha v nted
THE LAST
Formed of dust
The spirit apurneth, Back to dust
The body turneth But the spirit,
Passed death's-portal, Dotli become
A thing immortal.
Ye who mourn him,
Be unshaken, That Who gave,
Again hath taken
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That the dead,
Before ye lying, Made a happy
Change in dyinj And ye dead,
Here rest in quiet, Till ye hear
The final fiat, That in voice,
More loud than thundei, Shall command
Your tomb asunder! To earth we consign thee ! To God we resign thee !
CHORUS.
Sleep ! sleep ! sleep ! The birds shall carol o'er thy head, The stream shall murmur o'er its bed, The breeze shall make the forest sigh, And flowers above thee bloom and die But birds, and stream, and breeze, and flowers, Shall joy no more thy sleeping hours. To earth we consign thee ! To God we resign tkee ! Farewell !
The chorus was sung by all with im pressive solemnity, and on its conclusion, the four corpse bearers advanced, and with wooden spades buried the dead for ever from the sight of the living. Two by two, in the same order they had come hither, the whole party returned to the villao-e, and the day was spent in fasting and devo tional exercises.
The food of the Great Medicine Nation consisted, for the most part, of meat of various wild animals, which they gener ally killed with rifles, together with a few fish, for which they angled in the streams. Sometimes they planted and raised a small patch of corn, as was the case in the pre sent instance ; but their roving life, as a general tiling, led them to depend upon such vegetable food as chanced in their way. Among them they owned some fif teen horses, as many tame goats, which they milked daily, and twice the number of mules. They also owned a few traps, and when in a beaver country, did not fail using them to procure pelts ; which, to gether with buffalo and bear skins, they traded with the whites for such extras as they considered useful. With them, all property, with the exception of bodily rai ment, was in common ; and each labored, not for himself alone, but for his neighboi also. During the day their animals fed around the encampment, and in the valley at the base of the mountain but at nio-hl
TUB PRATRIE FLOWER; OR,
all were driven in and carrelled, or yarded, within the village.
Never before had I seen a people appear so wholly content with whatever Provi dence might give them, and so perfectly happy among themselves , and the time I spent with them, however singular the statement may seem to others, I must ac count one of the most pleasant periods of nay life
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CHAPTER XIX.
RESOLVE TO RESUME OUR JOURNEY AN-
VOUNCSMKNT TO PRAIRIE FLOWER HER
SURPRISE AND REGRET DANGERS ENUME RATED A CARELESS QUESTION ABRUPT
ANSWER ALARMING AGITATION OF PRAI RIE FLOWER OUR JOURNEY POSTPONED
FOR THREE DAYS HASTY DEPARTURE OF
PRAIRIE FLOWER.
IT was about the beginning of Septem ber, that I found my wounds so far healed and my strength so much recovered, as to think seriously of taking my departure. The air, too, on the mountains was becom ing cool and frosty ; and as my friend and I had decided on crossing to Oregon or California before the snow-storms of win ter should entirely bar our progress, we thought best to be on the move as soon as possible.
Daring my stay in the village, I had seen and conversed more or less with Prai rie Flower every day. and noted with re gret that hsr features gradually grew more and more pale, her eye more languid and less bright, her step less elastic and buoy ant, and that she moved slowly and heav ily over the ground, with her head bent forward in a mood of deep abstraction. The cause of this I was at no loss to con jecture, particularly as I saw a studied effort on her part to avoid my friend on all occasions, and that, when they did meet, she ever exhibited toward him a coldness totally foreign to her warm, frank, open, generous nature. Huntly noticed her seeming aversion to him, with less philos ophy than I had expected to see him dis play. In fact he became exceedingly troubled about it, and often told me with a sigh, that he must have been mistaken that she did not love him but that it was
me on whom her affections were placed.
contradicted him only so far as to say, that she cared no more for me than for him ; but did not care to tell him the real ause of her coldness for I saw it wouid only serve to inflame his passion, and, from what I could judge, render both the more unhappy.
That Prairie Flower loved my friend, and that too against her wiL ,was to me ai clear as daylight ; and the anguish it must have cost her gentle heart to avoid and appear cold and indifferent toward him, 1 could better imagine than realize. Sev eral times had I been tempted to broach to her the subject, that I might learn from her lips the true state of her heart ; but the slightest allusion to my friend, always produced such visible, painful embarrass ment, that I instantly abandoned the idea, and adroitly changed the conversation to something as foreign as possible. Of one thing I became satisfied ; and that was, that the sooner we took our departure, the better it would be for all parties ; for both Prairie Flower and Huntly were becoming touched with a melancholy that I feared might lead to something more serious.
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Accordingly, as soon as I fancied my strength sufficient to encounter the fatimie
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of a perilous journey, I announced mv intention to Huntly, and wrung from h'ra a reluctant consent to depart forthwith. My next move was to see Prairie Flower, and announce the same to her. As chance would have it, I shortly discovered her just outside the village, taking a stroll by herself a habit which had now become with her of daily occurrence. Bidding my friend remain in the village, I hasten ed after, and presently overtook her ; but so deep was she buried in meditation, that my steps, close behind, failed to rouse her from her reverie.
" You seem lost in communion with your own thoughts, sweet Prairie Flower," I said, in a cheerful tone; " and were I bent on surprising you, I might have done so to good advantage."
She started, a slight flush sn (fused he? pale features, and turning her lovely coun tenance upon me, with an ex|» res.-i«m ot deep surprise, she rallied herself lor t reply.
" Really, I must crave pardon, lit
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST.
Leigh ton but I was so engaged in re flecting on a various matters, that I failed to catch the sound of your footsteps."
" I saw you were deeply abstracted, and would not have intruded on your privacy, only that I have a matter of some little moment to communicate."
" Indeed ! " she rejoined, turning dead ly pale and trembling nervously : " I trust nothing h
as happened to to any one ?"
"Give yourself no uneasiness, dear Prai rie Flower. I have only come to thank you, and through you your friends, for the kindness and unbounded hospitality of all to myself and Hntly, and inform you that we are on the point of taking our de parture."
For a moment after I spoke, Prairie Flower stoo'd staring upon me with an expression of intense anguish, her breast hea ing tumultuously, and apparently with out the power to utter a syllable in reply. A*' length, placing her hand to her throat, as if she felt a choking sensation, she fairly gasped forth :
" Not not going surely ? "
" I fear we must, dear Prairie Flower," I answered sadly for I felt touched to the very soul at this unusual display of feeling and sorrowful regret at our departure coming too from one to whom both Huntly and I were under such deep obligations for the preservation of our lives, and the many kindnesses we had received. "We have intruded upon your hospitality too long already," I continued, "and have at last decided to depart immediately."
" But but your wounds ? "
" Are nearly healed."
" And your your strength ? "
"Sufficient for the journey, I think."
" And whi her go you ? "
" Over the mountains to Oregon, or California, as the case may be."
"But have you considered the dangers ? "
" Everything."
" But the Indians maybe in your path ? "
" We must take our chance, then, as be fore. We have decided on taking a new route, however, and consequently will avoid all ambuscades."
" Still there are ten thousand dangers or a new route. You may get lost, get ouried in the snows of the mountains, fall over some precipice or, escaping all these,