Chapter XVIIThe Great Sun Dance
Dick and Albert remained in their tepee throughout the nextmorning, but in the afternoon they were allowed to go in thevillage a second time. Lone Wolf and Pine Tree, who had slept inthe morning, were again their guards. Both saw at once that somegreat event was at hand. The excitement in the village hadincreased visibly, and a multitude was pouring toward a certainpoint, a wide, grassy plain beside the Little Big Horn. LoneWolf and Pine Tree willingly took the captives with the crowd,and the two boys looked upon a sight which few white men havebeheld in all its savage convulsions.
The wide, grassy space before them had been carefully chosen bythe great medicine men of the nation, Sitting Bull at their head.Then the squaws had put up a great circular awning, like acircus tent, with part of the top cut out. This awning was overone hundred and fifty feet in diameter. After this, the medicinemen had selected a small tree, which was cut down by a young,unmarried squaw. Then the tree, after it had been trimmed of allits branches and consecrated and prayed over by the medicine men,was erected in the center of the inclosed space, rising from theground to a height of about twenty feet.
To the top of the pole were fastened many long thongs of rawhidereaching nearly to the ground, and as Dick and Albert looked aswarm of young men in strange array, or rather lack of array,came forth from among the lodges and entered the inclosed space.Dick had some dim perception of what was about to occur, butLone Wolf informed him definitely.
"The sun dance," he said. "Many youths are about to become greatwarriors."
The greatest of sun dances, a sun dance of the mighty alliedSioux tribes, was about to begin. Forward went the neophytes,every one clad only in a breechclout ornamented with beads,colored horsehair and eagle feathers, and with horse tailsattached to it, falling to the ground. But every square inch ofthe neophyte's skin was painted in vivid and fantastic colors.Even the nails on his fingers and toes were painted. Moreover,everyone had pushed two small sticks of tough wood under the skinon each side of the breast, and to those two sticks was fasteneda rawhide cord, making a loop about ten inches long.
"What under the sun are those sticks and cords for?" askedAlbert, shuddering.
"Wait and we'll see," replied Dick, who guessed too well theirpurpose, although he could not help but look.
The neophytes advanced, and every one tied one of the longrawhide thongs depending from the top of the pole to the loop ofcord that hung from his breast. When all were ready they formeda great circle, somewhat after the fashion of the dancers arounda Maypole, and outside of those formed another and greater circleof those already initiated.
A medicine man began to blow a small whistle made from the wingbone of an eagle, the sacred bird of the Sioux, and he neverstopped blowing it for an instant. It gave forth a shrill,penetrating sound, that began after a while to work upon thenerves in a way that was almost unendurable to Dick and Albert.
At the first sound of the whistle the warriors began to dancearound the pole, keeping time to the weird music. It was ahideous and frightful dance, like some cruel rite of a far-offtime. The object was to tear the peg from the body, breaking byviolence through the skin and flesh that held it, and this provedthat the neophyte by his endurance of excessive pain was fit tobecome a great warrior.
But the pegs held fast for a long time, while the terrible,wailing cry of the whistle went on and on. Dick and Albertwanted to turn away--in fact, they had a violent impulse morethan once to run from it--but the eyes of the Sioux were uponthem, and they knew that they would consider them cowards if theycould not bear to look upon that which others no older thanthemselves endured. There was also the incessant, terriblewailing of the whistle, which seemed to charm them and hold them.
The youths by and by began to pull loose from the thongs, and insome cases where it was evident that they would not be able to doso a medicine man would seize them by the shoulders and helppull. In no case did a dancer give up, although they often fellin a faint when loosed. Then they were carried away to berevived, but for three days and three nights not a singleneophyte could touch food, water, or any other kind of drink.They were also compelled, as soon as they recovered a measurabledegree of strength, to join the larger group and dance three daysand nights around the neophytes, who successively took theirplaces.
The whole sight, with the wailing of the whistle, the shouts ofthe dancers, the beat of their feet, and the hard, excitedbreathing of the thousands about them, became weird anduncanny. Dick felt as if some strange, deadly odor had mountedto his brain, and while he struggled between going and staying anew shout arose.
A fresh group of neophytes sprang into the inclosed place. Everyone of these had the little sticks thrust through the upper pointof the shoulder blade instead of the breast, while from the loopdangled a buffalo head. They danced violently until the weightof the head pulled the sticks loose, and then, like theirbrethren of the pole, joined the great ring of outside dancerswhen they were able.
The crowd of neophytes increased, as they gave way in turn to oneanother, and the thong about them thickened. Hundreds andhundreds of dancers whirled and jumped to the shrill, incessantblowing of the eagle-bone whistle. It seemed at times to theexcited imaginations of Dick and Albert that the earth rocked tothe mighty tread of the greatest of all sun dances. Indianstoicism was gone, perspiration streamed from dark faces, eyesbecame bloodshot as their owners danced with feverish vigor,savage shouts burst forth, and the demon dance grew wilder andwilder.
The tread of thousands of feet caused a fine, impalpable dust torise from the earth beneath the grass and to permeate all theair, filling the eyes and nostrils of the dancers, heating theirbrains and causing them to see through a red mist. Some fellexhausted. If they were in the way, they were dragged to oneside; if not, they lay where they fell, but in either case otherstook their places and the whirling multitude always increased innumbers.
As far as Dick and Albert could see the Sioux were dancing.There was a sea of tossing heads and a multitude of brown bodiesshining with perspiration. Never for a moment did the shrill,monotonous, unceasing rhythm of the whistle cease to dominate thedance. It always rose above the beat of the dancers, itpenetrated everything, ruled everything--this single, shrillnote, like the chant of a snake charmer. It even showed itspower over Dick and Albert. They felt their nerves throbbing toit in an unwilling response, and the dust and the vivid electricexcitement of the dancers began to heat their own brains.
"Don't forget that we're white, Al! Don't forget it!" criedDick.
"I'm trying not to forget it!" gasped Albert.
The sun, a lurid, red sun, went down behind the hills, and atwilight that seemed to Dick and Albert phantasmagorial and shotwith red crept over the earth. But the dance did not abate ineither vigor or excitement; rather it increased. In the twilightand the darkness that followed it assumed new aspects of theweird and uncanny. Despite the torches that flared up, thedarkness was mainly in control. Now the dancers, whirling aboutthe pole and straining on the cords, were seen plainly, and nowthey were only shadows, phantoms in the dusk.
Dick and Albert had moved but little for a long time; the wailingof the demon whistle held them; and they felt that there was asingular attraction, too, in this sight, which was barbarism andsuperstition pure and simple, yet not without its power. Theywere still standing there when the moon came out, throwing a veilof silver gauze over the dancers, the lodges, the surface of theriver, and the hills, but it took nothing away from the ferociousaspect of the dance; it was still savagery, the custom of aremote, fierce, old world. Dick and Albert at last recoveredsomewhat; they threw off the power of the flute and the excitedair that they breathed and began to assume again the position ofmere spectators.
It was then that Bright Sun came upon them, and they noticed withastonishment that he, the product of the white schools and ofyears of white civilization, had been dancing, too. There wasperspiration on his face, his breath was short and qu
ick, and hiseyes were red with excitement. He marked their surprise, andsaid:
"You think it strange that I, too, dance. You think all thisbarbarism and superstition, but it is not. It is the custom ofmy people, a custom that has the sanction of many centuries, andthat is bred into our bone and blood. Therefore it is of use tous, and it is more fit than anything else to arouse us for thegreat crisis that we are to meet."
Neither Dick nor Albert made any reply. Both saw that the greatdeep of the Sioux chief's stoicism was for the moment broken up.He might never be so stirred again, but there was no doubt of itnow, and they could see his side of it, too. It was his peopleand their customs against the white man, the stranger. Theblood of a thousand years was speaking in him.
When he saw that they had no answer for him, Bright Sun left themand became engrossed once more with the dance, continually urgingit forward, bringing on more neophytes, and increasing theexcitement. Dick and Albert remained a while longer, lookingon. Their guards, Lone Wolf and Pine Tree, still stood besidethem. The two young warriors, true to their orders, had made noeffort to join the dancers, but their nostrils were twitching andtheir eyes bloodshot. The revel called to them incessantly, butthey could not go.
Dick felt at last that he had seen enough of so wild a scene.One could not longer endure the surcharged air, the wailing ofthe whistle, the shouts, the chants, and the beat of thousands offeet.
"Al," he said, "let's go back to our lodge, if our guards willlet us, and try to sleep."
"The sooner the better," said Albert.
Lone Wolf and Pine Tree were willing enough, and Dick suspectedthat they would join the dance later. After Albert had gone in,he stood a moment at the door of the lodge and looked again uponthis, the wildest and most extraordinary scene that he had yetbeheld. It was late in the night and the center of the sun dancewas some distance from the lodge, but the shrill wailing of thewhistle still reached him and the heavy tread of the dancers camein monotonous rhythm. "It's the greatest of all nightmares," hesaid to himself.
It was a long time before either Dick or Albert could sleep, andwhen Dick awoke at some vague hour between midnight andmorning he was troubled by a shrill, wailing note that the drum ofhis ear. Then he remembered. The whistle! And after it came therhythmic, monotonous beat of many feet, as steady and persistent asever. The sun dance had never ceased for a moment, and he fellasleep again with the sounds of it still in his ear.
The dance, which was begun at the ripening of the wild sage,continued three days and nights without the stop of an instant.No food and no drink passed the lips of the neophytes, who dancedthroughout that time--if they fell they rose to dance again.Then at the appointed hour it all ceased, although everywarrior's brain was at white heat and he was ready to go forth atonce against a myriad enemies. It was as if everyone had drunkof some powerful and exciting Eastern drug.
The dance ended, they began to eat, and neither Dick nor Alberthad ever before seen such eating. The cooking fires of thesquaws rose throughout the entire five miles of the village.They had buffalo, deer, bear, antelope, and smaller game inabundance, and the warriors ate until they fell upon the ground,where the lay in a long stupor. The boys thought that many ofthem would surely die, but they came from their stupor unharmedand were ready for instant battle. There were many new warriors,too, because none had failed at the test, and all were eager toshow their valor.
"It's like baiting a wild beast," said Dick. "There are fivethousand ravening savages here, ready to fight anything, andto-night I'm going to try to escape."
"If you try, I try, too," said Albert.
"Of course," said Dick.
The village was resting from its emotional orgy, and the guardupon the two boys was relaxed somewhat. In fact, it seemedwholly unnecessary, as they were rimmed around by the vigilanceof many thousand eyes. But, spurred by the cruel need, Dickresolved that they should try. Fortunately, the very next nightwas quite dark, and only a single Indian, Pine Tree, was onguard.
"It's to-night or never," whispered Dick to Albert within theshelter of the lodge. "They've never taken the trouble to bindus, and that gives us at least a fighting chance."
"When shall we slip out?"
"Not before about three in the morning. That is the most nearlysilent hour, and if the heathenish curs let us alone we may getaway."
Fortune seemed to favor the two. The moon did not come out,and the promise of a dark night was fulfilled. An unusualstillness was over the village. It seemed that everybody slept.Dick and Albert waited through long, long hours. Dick hadnothing by which to reckon time, but he believed that he couldcalculate fairly well by guess, and once, when he thought it wasfully midnight, he peeped out at the door of the lodge. PineTree was there, leasing against a sapling, but his attitudeshowed laziness and a lack of vigilance. It might be that,feeling little need of watching, he slept on his feet. Dickdevoutly hoped so. He waited at least two hours longer, andagain peeped out. The attitude of Pine Tree had not changed.It must certainly be sleep that held him, and Dick and Albertprepared to go forth. They had no arms, and could trust onlyto silence and speed.
Dick was the first outside, and stood in the shadow of the lodgeuntil Albert joined him. There they paused to choose a way amongthe lodges and to make a further inspection of sleepingPine Tree.
The quiet of the village was not broken. The lodges stretchedaway in dusky rows and then were lost in darkness. This promisedwell, and their eyes came back to Pine Tree, who was stillsleeping. Then Dick became conscious of a beam of light, orrather two beams. These beams shot straight from the open eyesof Pine Tree, who was not asleep at all. The next instant PineTree opened his mouth, uttered a yell that was amazingly loud andpiercing, and leaped straight for the two boys.
As neither Dick nor Albert had arms, they could do nothing butrun, and they fled between the lodges at great speed, Pine Treehot upon their heels. It amazed Dick to find that the wholepopulation of a big town could awake so quickly. Warriors,squaws, and children swarmed from the lodges and fell upon himand Albert in a mass. He could only see in the darkness thatAlbert had been seized and dragged away, but he knew that twouncommonly strong old squaws had him by the hair, threehalf-grown boys were clinging to his legs, and a powerfulwarrior laid hold of his right shoulder. He deemed it wisestin such a position to yield as quickly and gracefully as he could,in the hope that the two wiry old women would be detachedspeedily from his hair. This object was achieved as soon as theSioux saw that he did not resist, and the vigilant Pine Tree stoodbefore him, watching with an expression that Dick feared could becalled a grin.
"The honors are yours," said Dick as politely as he could, "buttell me what has become of my brother."
"He is being taken to the other side of the river," said thevoice of Bright Sun over Pine Tree's shoulder, "and he and youwill be kept apart until we decide what to do with you. It wasfoolish in you to attempt to escape. I had warned you."
"I admit it," said Dick, "but you in my place would have done thesame. Once can only try."
He tried to speak with philosophy, but he was sorely troubledover being separated from his brother. Their comradeship incaptivity had been a support to each other.
There was no sympathy in the voice of Bright Sun. He spokecoldly, sternly, like a great war chief. Dick understood, andwas too proud to make any appeal. Bright Sun said a few words tothe warriors, and walked away.
Dick was taken to another and larger lodge, in which severalwarriors slept. There, after his arms were securely bound, hewas allowed to lie down on a rush mat, with warriors on rush matson either side of him. Dick was not certain whether the warriorsslept, but he knew that he did not close his eyes again thatnight.
Although strong and courageous, Dick Howard suffered muchmental torture. Bright Sun was a Sioux, wholly an Indian(he had seen that at the sun dance), and if Albert and he wereno longer of any possible use as hostages, Bright Sun would nottrouble himself to protect them.
He deeply regretted their wildattempt at escape, which he had felt from the first was almosthopeless. Yet he believed, on second thought, that they had beenjustified in making the trial. The great sun dance, the immensegathering of warriors keyed for battle, showed the imminent needfor warning to the white commanders, who would not dream thatthe Sioux were in such mighty force. Between this anxiety andthat other one for Albert, thinking little of himself meanwhile,Dick writhed in his bonds. But he could do nothing else.
The warriors rose from their rush mats at dawn and ate flesh ofthe buffalo and deer and their favorite wa-nsa. Dick's arms wereunbound, and he, too, was allowed to eat; but he had littleappetite, and when the warriors saw that he had finished theybound him again.
"What are you going to do to me?" asked Dick in a kind of vaguecuriosity.
No one gave any answer. They did not seem to hear him. Dickfancied that some of them understood English, but chose to leavehim in ignorance. He resolved to imitate their own stoicism andwait. When they bound his arms again, and his feet also, he madeno resistance, but lay down quietly on the rush mat and gazedwith an air of indifference at the skin wall of the lodge. Allwarriors went out, except one, who sat in the doorway with hisrifle on his knee.
"They flatter me," thought Dick. "They must think me of someimportance or that I'm dangerous, since they bind and guard me sowell."
His thongs of soft deerskin, while secure, were not galling.They neither chafed nor prevented the circulation, and when hegrew tired of lying in one position he could turn into another.But it was terribly hard waiting. He did not know what wasbefore him. Torture or death? Both, most likely. He tried tobe resigned, but how could one be resigned when one was so youngand so strong? The hum of the village life came to him, thesound of voices, the tread of feet, the twang of a boyishbowstring, but the guard in the doorway never stirred. It seemedto Dick that the Sioux, who wore very little clothing, was carvedout of reddish-brown stone. Dick wondered if he would ever move,and lying on his back he managed to raise his head a little onthe doubled corner of the rush mat, and watch that he might see.
Bound, helpless, and shut off from the rest of the world, thisquestion suddenly became vital to him: Would that Indian evermove, or would he not? He must have been sitting in thatposition at least two hours. Always he stared straight beforehim, the muscles on his bare arms never quivered in theslightest, and the rifle lay immovable across knees which alsowere bare. How could he do it? How could he have such controlover his nerves and body? Dick's mind slowly filled with wonder,and then he began to have a suspicion that the Sioux wasnot real, merely some phantom of the fancy, or that he himselfwas dreaming. It made him angry--angry at himself, angry atthe Sioux, angry at everything. He closed his eyes, held themtightly shut for five minutes, and then opened them again. TheSioux was still there. Dick was about to break through hisassumed stoicism and shout at the warrior, but he checkedhimself, and with a great effort took control again of hiswandering nerves.
He knew now that the warrior was real, and that he must havemoved some time or other, but he did not find rest of spirit. Ashaft of sunshine by and by entered the narrow door of the lodgeand fell across Dick himself. He knew that it must be a fairday, but he was sorry for it. The sun ought not to shine when hewas at such a pass.
Another interminable period passed, and an old squaw entered witha bowl of wa-nsa, and behind her came Lone Wolf, who unboundDick.
"What's up now, Mr. Lone Wolf?" asked Dick with an attempt atlevity. "Is it a fight or a foot race?"
"Eat," replied Lone Wolf sententiously, pointing of the bowlwa-nsa. "You will need your strength."
Dick's heart fell at these words despite all his self-command."My time's come," he thought. He tried to eat--in fact, heforced himself to eat--that Lone Wolf might not think that hequailed, and when he had eaten as much as his honor seemed todemand he stretched his muscles and said to Lone Wolf, with agood attempt at indifference:
"Lead on, my wolfish friend. I don't know what kind of a welcomemine is going to be, but I suppose it is just as well to find outnow."
The face of Lone Wolf did not relax. He seemed to have a fullappreciation of what was to come and no time for idle jests. Hemerely pointed to the doorway, and Dick stepped into thesunshine. Lying so long in the dusky lodge, he was dazzled atfirst by the brilliancy of the day, but when his sight grewstronger he beheld a multitude about him. The women andchildren began to chatter, but the warriors were silent. Dicksaw that he was the center of interest, and was quite sure that hewas looking upon his last sun. "O Lord, let me die bravely!" washis silent prayer.
He resolved to imitate as nearly as he could the bearing of anIndian warrior in his position, and made no resistance as LoneWolf led him on, with the great thong following. He glancedaround once for Bright Sun, but did not see him. The fiercechief whom they called Ite-Moga' Ju (Rain-in-the-Face) seemed tobe in charge of Dick's fate, and he directed the proceedings.
But stoicism could not prevail entirely, and Dick looked abouthim again. He saw the yellow waters of the river with thesunlight playing upon them; the great village stretching away oneither shore until it was hidden by the trees and undergrowth;the pleasant hills and all the pleasant world, so hard to leave.His eyes dwelt particularly upon the hill, a high one, overlookingthe whole valley of the Little Big Horn, and the light was so clearthat he could see every bush and shrub waving there.
His eyes came back from the hill to the throng about him. He hadfelt at times a sympathy for the Sioux because the white man waspressing upon them, driving them from their ancient huntinggrounds that they loved; but they were now wholly savage andcruel--men, women, and children alike. He hated them all.
Dick was taken to the summit of one of the lower hills, on whichhe could be seen by everybody and from which he could see in avast circle. He was tied in a peculiar manner. His handsremained bound behind him, but his feet were free. One end of astout rawhide was secured around his waist and the other around asapling, leaving him a play of about a half yard. He could notdivine the purpose of this, but he was soon to learn.
Six half-grown boys, with bows and arrows, then seldom used bygrown Sioux, formed a line at a little distance from him, and ata word from Rain-in-the-Face leveled their bows and fitted arrowto the string. Dick thought at first they were going to slay himat once, but he remembered that the Indian did not do things thatway. He knew it was some kind of torture and although heshivered he steadied his mind to face it.
Rain-in-the-Face spoke again, and six bowstrings twanged. Sixarrows whizzed by Dick, three on one side and three on the other,but all so close that, despite every effort of will, he shrankback against the sapling. A roar of laughter came from thecrowd, and Dick flushed through all the tan of two years in theopen air. Now he understood why the rawhide allowed him somuch play. It was a torture of the nerves and of the mind.They would shoot their arrows by him, graze him perhaps if hestood steady, but if he sought to evade through fear, if hesprang either to one side or the other, they might strike ina vital spot.
He summoned up the last ounce of his courage, put his backagainst the sapling and resolved that he would not move, even ifan arrow carried some of his skin with it. The bowstringstwanged again, and again six arrows whistled by. Dick quivered,but he did not move, and some applause came from the crowd.Although it was the applause of enemies, of barbarians, whowished to see him suffer, it encouraged Dick. He would endureeverything and he would not look at these cruel faces; so hefixed his eyes on the high hill and did not look away when thebowstrings twanged a third time. As before, he heard the arrowswhistle by him, and the shiver came into his blood, but his willdid not let it extend to his body. He kept his eyes fixed uponthe hill, and suddenly a speck appeared before them. No, it wasnot a speck, and, incredible as it seemed, Dick was sure that hesaw a horseman come around the base of the hill and stop there,gazing into the valley upon the great village and the peoplethronging about the boun
d boy.
A second and third horseman appeared, and Dick could doubt nolonger. They were white cavalrymen in the army uniform, scoutsor the vanguard, he knew not what. Dick held his breath, andagain that shiver came into his blood. Then he heard and saw anextraordinary thing. A singular deep, long-drawn cry came fromthe multitude in unison, a note of surprise and mingled threat.Then all whirled about at the same moment and gazed at thehorsemen at the base of the hill.
The cavalrymen quickly turned back, rode around the hill and outof sight. Dozens of warriors rushed forward, hundreds ran to thelodges for more weapons and ammunition, the women poured in astream down toward the river and away, the boys with the bows andarrows disappeared, and in a few minutes Dick was left alone.
Unnoticed, but bound and helpless, the boy stood there on thelittle hill, while the feverish life, bursting now into aturbulent stream, whirled and eddied around him.