Part 16 (2/2)

x.x.xIII. CONCLUSION.

An old Pani, in speaking of what was perhaps the first official visit by whites to his tribe, said:

”I heard that long ago there was a time when there were no people in this country except Indians. After that the people began to hear of men with white skins; they had been seen far to the east. Before I was born they came to our country and visited us. The man who came was from the Government. He wanted to make a treaty with us, and to give us presents-blankets and guns and flint and steel and knives.

”The head chief told him that we needed none of those things. He said, 'We have our buffalo and our corn. These things the Ruler gave us, and they are all that we need. See this robe. This keeps me warm in winter. I need no blanket.'

”The white men had with them some cattle, and the chief said, 'Lead out a heifer here on the prairie.' They led her out, and the chief, stepping up to her, shot her through behind the shoulder with his arrow, and she fell down and died. Then the chief said, 'Will not my arrow kill? I do not need your guns.' Then he took his stone knife and skinned the heifer, and cut off a piece of fat meat. When he had done this, he said, 'Why should I take your knives? The Ruler has given me something to cut with.'

”Then, taking the firesticks, he kindled a fire to roast the meat; and while it was cooking, he spoke and said, 'You see, my brother, that the Ruler has given us all that we need: the buffalo for food and clothing; the corn to eat with our dried meat; bows, arrows, knives, and hoes-all the implements that we need for killing meat or for cultivating the ground. Now go back to the country from whence you came. We do not want your presents, and we do not want you to come into our country.' ”

And the old chief was right. The Indians were supplied with all they needed; what the white man offered them was unnecessary, often it was harmful. They were happy and contented. They were doing very well in their own way.

But the old times are gone. To-day the Indians are few in number, and they are growing fewer. There are many ingenious arguments to prove the contrary. Three facts, however, are perfectly plain. First, there were whole tribes that have disappeared. The Beothuks and the Natchez are but two tribes which are gone; such tribes may be numbered by scores. Their names are on record; their old locations are known; sometimes we have some knowledge of their customs and ways, but _they_ are dead. Secondly, many tribes are rapidly dwindling. The Pani, between 1885 and 1889, a period of five years, fell from one thousand and forty-five to eight hundred and sixty-nine. When I knew the Tonkaways in the Indian Territory, they numbered but thirty-five persons, and had been disappearing at the rate of one-third of the population in eight years. The Haidas of Queen Charlotte Islands are becoming fewer. Dawson says: ”One intelligent man told me that he could remember the time-which by his age could not have been more than thirty years ago-when there was not room to launch all the canoes of the village in a single row, the whole length of the beach, when the people set out on one of their periodical trading expeditions to Port Simpson.

The beach is about half a mile long, and there must have been from five to eight persons in each canoe.” There are to-day less than five hundred people in that village, Skidgate. Thirdly, there are some tribes, like the Cherokees and Sioux, which are large, prosperous, and wealthy. It is a money advantage to belong to such tribes, and a great many men who should be considered white men are counted with such tribes and help to make them look as if they were not dwindling. It is quite certain that true Indians of pure blood are rapidly diminis.h.i.+ng.

The whites have brought them whisky, which has killed thousands. They have brought vices and diseases which have swept off thousands more. They have put an end to the old free, open-air life. They have taught them unwholesome means of cookery that cause scrofula and other diseases. They have taught them to build close, stuffy houses, which cause consumption, which is fearfully destructive to the Indians. It seems to make little difference whether it is an open foe with the whisky bottle, or an apparent friend with money for a ”civilized home” (”a nice, comfortable, little house”) who comes; the white man's touch destroys the Indians.

Whether the Indians really die out or not, their old life will surely disappear. One after another many of the things we have here read of together have, disappeared. Others will soon die out. The houses, dress, weapons, games, dances, ceremonials, will go. It is only a matter of time.

But they ought always to be interesting to us as Americans.

The condition of the Indians to-day is a sad and pathetic one. They may all echo the words of Red Jacket. They have been crowded upon by the white man's hunger for land until now they have little left. Not long ago they held the continent; to-day they are almost prisoners upon a few patches of land called reservations. They are secure of these only until the white man wants them. Time after time Indians have given up their lands and removed to distant places because their old homes were wanted by white men. Every time they have been promised that in their new homes they should be undisturbed. Yet whenever, in their onward march, white men came to be neighbors, the old troubles came again. Encroachment, aggression, then perhaps open warfare, and then, another removal. Helen Hunt Jackson's _Century of Dishonor_ tells only a part of the story. Every boy and girl in the United States should read it.

Here on a map you see the present location of most of the Indians. The reservations vary in size and in quality. Some of them have little that can attract the whites. In these the Indians may be left in peace. The present idea of what to do with the Indians is shown by the Dawes Bill.

This is apparently a benevolent scheme for happily settling the Indians on individual farms. Imagine a reservation belonging to some tribe. A part of the reservation is cultivated by the more progressive Indians. The rest is not used except perhaps for hunting or fis.h.i.+ng, or wandering over. The whole belongs to the tribe absolutely, and we have promised that it shall never be taken away from them. But now the Dawes Bill is pa.s.sed. It is said, a little farm apiece is all that is necessary for these Indians. It would be much better to give each of them just what he needs and then to buy the balance of the land (cheap of course), and give it to white people. Whenever the Indians agree to it, we will divide up the land, allot each his land in severalty, and the Indian problem is solved. All this sounds very well, but it is enough to make one's heart bleed to see the way in which it is carried out. Many times the Indians do not wish to take their land in severalty. Certainly they ought not to be forced to do so against their will. Yet commission after commission, special agent after special agent, is sent to tribes to persuade, beg, and hara.s.s them into accepting allotment. Many times half threats are made; hints are vaguely thrown out as to what may happen if they don't take their little farms and sell the balance of their reservation. Surveyors are hired to go and survey within the reservation so as to make the Indians think their land will be taken away anyway. At last the poor hara.s.sed tribe yields.

The men take their farms; they give up the balance of their land for a small price. Those who were industrious before take care of their land as they did before, no better, no worse. But the unprogressive Indian is not made industrious. He rents his land to some white man and spends his money in strong drink. As long as they were on the reservation there were laws to protect them from bad neighbors and whisky. But on his little farm the Indian may be next door to bad white men who sell him liquor whenever it is to their advantage.

There are many persons who think that missions and schools will make the Indians good and happy. So far as schools are concerned there are many.

Some of them are simple day schools at the agency. Others are boarding schools still at the agency. Still others are great industrial schools at a town more or less distant. Of all these schools we think that those at the agency are the best kind. Such schools, well managed by thoroughly good teachers, ought to do the most good. They ought not to try to teach high branches, but to speak, read, and write English, a little arithmetic and a little knowledge of the great world. They ought to be industrial schools to the extent of teaching handiness in all the little things that need to be done about the house or the farm. They ought to aim to reach the parents and to interest them in their work. Progress in such schools is slow, but it is better for all to make a little progress, than for a few to get a great ma.s.s of information that they cannot use.

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