Indian Boyhood [13]
She would gather from tradition all of his noted deeds and daring exploits, rehearsing them to herself when alone. In order that the impres- sion might be more distinct, she avoided company. She isolated herself as much as possible, and wan- dered in solitude, not thoughtlessly, but with an eye to the impress given by grand and beautiful scenery.
The Indians believed, also, that certain kinds of animals would confer peculiar gifts upon the un- born, while others would leave so strong an adverse impression that the child might become a monstros- ity. A case of hare-lip was commonly attributed to the rabbit. It was said that a rabbit had charmed the mother and given to the babe its own features. Even the meat of certain animals was denied the pregnant woman, because it was supposed to influ- ence the disposition or features of the child.
Scarcely was the embyro warrior ushered into the world, when he was met by lullabies that speak of wonderful exploits in hunting and war. Those ideas which so fully occupied his mother's mind before his birth are now put into words by all about the child, who is as yet quite unresponsive to their appeals to his honor and ambition. He is called the future defender of his people, whose lives may depend upon his courage and skill. If the child is a girl, she is at once addressed as the future mother of a noble race.
In hunting songs, the leading animals are intro- duced; they come to the boy to offer their bodies for the sustenance of his tribe. The animals are regarded as his friends, and spoken of almost as tribes of people, or as his cousins, grandfathers and grandmothers. The songs of wooing, adapted as lullabies, were equally imaginative, and the suitors were often animals personified, while pretty maid- ens were represented by the mink and the doe.
Very early, the Indian boy assumed the task of preserving and transmitting the legends of his an- cestors and his race. Almost every evening a myth, or a true story of some deed done in the past, was narrated by one of the parents or grand- parents, while the boy listened with parted lips and glistening eyes. On the following evening, he was usually required to repeat it. If he was not an apt scholar, he struggled long with his task; but, as a rule, the Indian boy is a good listener and has a good memory, so that the stories were tolerably well mas- tered. The household became his audience, by which he was alternately criticized and ap- plauded.
This sort of teaching at once enlightens the boy's mind and stimulates his ambition. His concep- tion of his own future career becomes a vivid and irresistible force. Whatever there is for him to learn must be learned; whatever qualifications are necessary to a truly great man he must seek at any expense of danger and hardship. Such was the feeling of the imaginative and brave young Indian. It became apparent to him in early life that he must accustom himself to rove alone and not to fear or dislike the impression of solitude.
It seems to be a popular idea that all the char- acteristic skill of the Indian is instinctive and hereditary. This is a mistake. All the stoicism and patience of the Indian are acquired traits, and continual practice alone makes him master of the art of wood-craft. Physical training and dieting were not neglected. I remember that I was not allowed to have beef soup or any warm drink. The soup was for the old men. General rules for the young were never to take their food very hot, nor to drink much water.
My uncle, who educated me up to the age of fifteen years, was a strict disciplinarian and a good teacher. When I left the teepee in the morning, he would say: "Hakadah, look closely to everything you see"; and at evening, on my re- turn, he used often to catechize me for an hour or so.
"On which side of the trees is the lighter-col- ored bark? On which side do they have most regular branches?"
It was his custom to let me name all the new birds that I had seen during the day. I would name them according to the color or the shape
The Indians believed, also, that certain kinds of animals would confer peculiar gifts upon the un- born, while others would leave so strong an adverse impression that the child might become a monstros- ity. A case of hare-lip was commonly attributed to the rabbit. It was said that a rabbit had charmed the mother and given to the babe its own features. Even the meat of certain animals was denied the pregnant woman, because it was supposed to influ- ence the disposition or features of the child.
Scarcely was the embyro warrior ushered into the world, when he was met by lullabies that speak of wonderful exploits in hunting and war. Those ideas which so fully occupied his mother's mind before his birth are now put into words by all about the child, who is as yet quite unresponsive to their appeals to his honor and ambition. He is called the future defender of his people, whose lives may depend upon his courage and skill. If the child is a girl, she is at once addressed as the future mother of a noble race.
In hunting songs, the leading animals are intro- duced; they come to the boy to offer their bodies for the sustenance of his tribe. The animals are regarded as his friends, and spoken of almost as tribes of people, or as his cousins, grandfathers and grandmothers. The songs of wooing, adapted as lullabies, were equally imaginative, and the suitors were often animals personified, while pretty maid- ens were represented by the mink and the doe.
Very early, the Indian boy assumed the task of preserving and transmitting the legends of his an- cestors and his race. Almost every evening a myth, or a true story of some deed done in the past, was narrated by one of the parents or grand- parents, while the boy listened with parted lips and glistening eyes. On the following evening, he was usually required to repeat it. If he was not an apt scholar, he struggled long with his task; but, as a rule, the Indian boy is a good listener and has a good memory, so that the stories were tolerably well mas- tered. The household became his audience, by which he was alternately criticized and ap- plauded.
This sort of teaching at once enlightens the boy's mind and stimulates his ambition. His concep- tion of his own future career becomes a vivid and irresistible force. Whatever there is for him to learn must be learned; whatever qualifications are necessary to a truly great man he must seek at any expense of danger and hardship. Such was the feeling of the imaginative and brave young Indian. It became apparent to him in early life that he must accustom himself to rove alone and not to fear or dislike the impression of solitude.
It seems to be a popular idea that all the char- acteristic skill of the Indian is instinctive and hereditary. This is a mistake. All the stoicism and patience of the Indian are acquired traits, and continual practice alone makes him master of the art of wood-craft. Physical training and dieting were not neglected. I remember that I was not allowed to have beef soup or any warm drink. The soup was for the old men. General rules for the young were never to take their food very hot, nor to drink much water.
My uncle, who educated me up to the age of fifteen years, was a strict disciplinarian and a good teacher. When I left the teepee in the morning, he would say: "Hakadah, look closely to everything you see"; and at evening, on my re- turn, he used often to catechize me for an hour or so.
"On which side of the trees is the lighter-col- ored bark? On which side do they have most regular branches?"
It was his custom to let me name all the new birds that I had seen during the day. I would name them according to the color or the shape