“On the subject of love no persons have been less understood than the Indians,” wrote Thomas Ashe in 1806 (271).

“It is said of them that they have no affection, and that the intercourse of the sexes is sustained by a brutal passion remote from tenderness and sensibility. This is one of the many gross errors which have been propagated to calumniate these innocent people.”

Waitz remarks (III., 102):

“How much alike human nature is everywhere is evinced by the remarkable circumstance that notwithstanding the degradation of woman, cases of romantic love are not even very rare”

among Indians. “Their languages,” writes Professor Brinton (R.P., 54),

“supply us with evidence that the sentiment of love was awake among them, and this is corroborated by the incidents we learn of their domestic life.... Some of the songs and stories of this race seem to reveal even a capability for romantic love such as would do credit to a modern novel. This is the more astonishing, as in the African and Mongolian races this ethereal sentiment is practically absent, the idealism of passion being something foreign to those varieties of man.”

The Indians, says Catlin (N.A.I., I., 121), “are not in the least behind us in conjugal, in filial, and in paternal affection.” In the preface to Mrs. Eastman’s Life and Legend of the Sioux, Mrs. Kirkman exclaims that

“in spite of all that renders gross and mechanical their ordinary mode of marrying and giving in marriage, instances are not rare among them of love as true, as fiery, and as fatal as that of the most exalted hero of romance.”

Let us listen to a few of the tales of Indian love, as recorded by Schoolcraft.

THE RED LOVER

Many years ago there lived a Chippewa warrior on the banks of Lake Superior. His name was Wawanosh and he was renowed for his ancestry and personal bravery. He had an only daughter, eighteen years old, celebrated for her gentle virtues, her slender form, her full beaming hazel eyes, and her dark and flowing hair. Her hand was sought by a young man of humble parentage, but a tall commanding form, a manly step, and an eye beaming with the tropical fires of love and youth. These were sufficient to attract the favorable notice of the daughter, but did not satisfy the father, who sternly informed the young man that before he could hope to mingle his humble blood with that of so renowned a warrior he would have to go and make a name for himself by enduring fatigue in the campaigns against enemies, by taking scalps, and proving himself a successful hunter.

The intimidated lover departed, resolved to do a deed that should render him worthy of the daughter of Wawanosh, or die in the attempt. In a few days he succeeded in getting together a band of young men all eager, like himself, to distinguish themselves in battle. Armed with bow and quiver, and ornamented with war-paint and feathers, they had their war-dance, which was continued for two days and nights. Before leaving with his companions the leader sought an interview with the daughter of Wawanosh. He disclosed to her his firm intention never to return unless he could establish his name as a warrior. He told her of the pangs he had felt at her father’s implied imputation of effeminacy and cowardice. He averred that he never could be happy, either with or without her, until he had proved to the whole tribe the strength of his heart, which is the Indian term for courage. He repeated his protestations of inviolable attachment, which she returned, and, pledging vows of mutual fidelity, they parted.

She never saw him again. A warrior brought home the tidings that he had received a fatal arrow in his breast after distinguishing himself by the most heroic bravery. From that moment the young girl never smiled again. She pined away by day and by night. Deaf to entreaty and reproach, she would seek a sequestered spot, where she would sit under a shady tree, and sing her mournful laments for hours together. A small, beautiful bird, of a kind she had never seen, sat on her tree, every day, singing until dark. Her fond imagination soon led her to suppose it was the spirit of her lover, and her visits were repeated with greater frequency. She passed her time in fasting and singing her plaintive songs. Thus she pined away, until the death she so fervently desired came to her relief. After her death the bird was never more seen, and it became a popular opinion that this mysterious bird had flown away with her spirit. But bitter tears of regret fell in the lodge of Wawanosh. Too late he regretted his false pride and his harsh treatment of the noble youth.

THE FOAM WOMAN

There once lived an Ottawa woman on the shores of Lake Michigan who had a daughter as beautiful as she was modest and discreet. She was so handsome that her mother feared she would be carried off, and, to prevent it, she put her in a box on the lake, which was tied by a long string to a stake on the shore. Every morning the mother pulled the box ashore, and combed her daughter’s long, shining hair, gave her food, and then put her out again on the lake.

One day a handsome young man chanced to come to the spot at the moment she was receiving her morning’s attentions from her mother. He was struck with her beauty and immediately went home and told his feelings to his uncle, who was a great chief and a powerful magician. The uncle told him to go to the mother’s lodge, sit down in a modest manner, and, without saying a word, think what he wanted, and he would be understood and answered. He did so; but the mother’s answer was: “Give you my daughter? No, indeed, my daughter shall never marry you.” This pride and haughtiness angered the uncle and the spirits of the lake, who raised a great storm on the water. The tossing waves broke the string, and the box with the girl floated off through the straits to Lake Huron. It was there cast on shore and found by an old spirit who took the beautiful girl to his lodge and married her.

The mother, when she found her daughter gone, raised loud cries, and continued her lamentations for a long time. At last, after two or three years, the spirits had pity on her and raised another storm, greater even than the first. When the water rose and encroached on the lodge where the daughter lived, she leaped into the box, and the waves carried her back to her mother’s lodge. The mother was overjoyed, but when she opened the box she found that her daughter’s beauty had almost all departed. However, she still loved her because she was her daughter, and she now thought of the young man who had made her the offer of marriage. She sent a formal message to him, but he had changed his mind, for he knew that she had been the wife of another. “I marry your daughter?” said he; “your daughter! No, indeed! I shall never marry her.”

THE HUMPBACK MAGICIAN

Bokwewa and his brother lived in a secluded part of the country. They were considered as Manitoes who had assumed mortal shapes. Bokwewa was a humpback, but had the gifts of a magician, while the brother was more like the present race of beings. One day the brother said to the humpback that he was going away to visit the habitations of men, and procure a wife. He travelled alone a long time. At length he came to a deserted camp, where he saw a corpse on a scaffold. He took it down and found it was the body of a beautiful young woman. “She shall be my wife,” he exclaimed.

He took her and carried her home on his back. “Brother,” he exclaimed, “cannot you restore her life? Oh! do me that favor.”

The humpback said he would try, and, after performing various ceremonies, succeeded in restoring her to life. They lived very happily for some time. But one day when the humpback was home alone with the woman, her husband having gone out to hunt, a powerful Manito came and carried her off, though Bokwewa used all his strength to save her.

When the brother returned and heard what had happened he would not taste food for several days. Sometimes he would fall to weeping for a long time, and appear almost beside himself. At last he said he would go in search of her. His brother, finding that he could not dissuade him, cautioned him against the dangers of the road; he must pass by the large grape-vine and the frog’s eggs that he would come across. But the young husband heeded not his advice. He started out on his journey and when he found the grapes and the frog’s eggs he ate them.

At length he came to the tribe into which his wife had been stolen. Throngs of men and women, gaily dressed, came out to meet him. As he had eaten of the grapes and frog’s eggs snares laid for him he was soon overcome by their flatteries and pleasures, and he was not long afterward seen beating corn with their women (the strongest proof of effeminacy), although his wife, for whom he had mourned so much, was in that Indian metropolis.

Meanwhile Bokwewa waited patiently for his brother, but when he did not return he set out in search of him. He avoided the allurements along the road and when he came among the luxurious people of the South he wept on seeing his brother beating corn with the women. He waited till the stolen wife came down to the river to draw water for her new husband, the Manito. He changed himself into a hair-snake, was scooped up in her bucket, and drunk by the Manito, who soon after was dead. Then the humpback resumed his human shape and tried to reclaim his brother; but the brother was so taken up with the pleasures and dissipations into which he had fallen that he refused to give them up. Finding he was past reclaiming, Bokwewa left him and disappeared forever.

THE BUFFALO KING

Aggodagauda was an Indian who lived in the forest. Though he had accidentally lost the use of one of his two legs he was a famous hunter. But he had a great enemy in the king of buffaloes, who frequently passed over the plain with the force of a tempest. The chief object of the wily buffalo was to carry off Aggodagauda’s daughter, who was very beautiful. To prevent this Aggodagauda had built a log cabin, and it was only on the roof of this that he permitted his daughter to take the open air and disport herself. Now her hair was so long that when she untied it the raven locks hung down to the ground.

One day, when her father was off on a hunt, she went out on top of the house and sat combing her long and beautiful hair, on the eaves of the lodge, when the buffalo king, coming suddenly by, caught her glossy hair, and winding it about his horns, tossed her onto his shoulders and carried her to his village. Here he paid every attention to gain her affections, but all to no purpose, for she sat pensively and disconsolate in the lodge among the other females, and scarcely ever spoke, and took no part in the domestic cares of her lover the king. He, on the contrary, did everything he could think of to please her and win her affections. He told the others in his lodge to give her everything she wanted, and to be careful not to displease her. They set before her the choicest food. They gave her the seat of honor in the lodge. The king himself went out hunting to obtain the most dainty bits of meat. And not content with these proofs of his attachment he fasted himself, and would often take his flute and sit near the lodge indulging his mind in repeating a few pensive notes:

My sweetheart,
My sweetheart,
Ah me!
When I think of you,
When I think of you,
Ah me!
How I love you,
How I love you,
Ah me!
Do not hate me,
Do not hate me,
Ah me!

In the meantime Aggodagauda had returned from his hunt, and finding his daughter gone, determined to recover her. During her flight her long hair had caught on the branches and broken them, and it was by following these broken twigs that he tracked her. When he came to the king’s lodge it was evening. He cautiously peeped in and saw his daughter sitting disconsolately. She caught his eye, and, in order to meet him, said to the king, “Give me a dipper, I will go and get you a drink of water.” Delighted with this token of submission, the king allowed her to go to the river. There she met her father and escaped with him.

THE HAUNTED GROVE

Leelinau was the favorite daughter of an Odjibwa hunter, living on the shore of Lake Superior. From her earliest youth she was observed to be pensive and timid, and to spend much of her time in solitude and fasting. Whenever she could leave her father’s lodge she would fly to the remote haunts and recesses of the woods, or sit upon some high promontory of rock overhanging the lake. But her favorite place was a forest of pines known as the Sacred Grove. It was supposed to be inhabited by a class of fairies who love romantic scenes. This spot Leelinau visited often, gathering on the way strange flowers or plants to bring home. It was there that she fasted, supplicated, and strolled.

The effect of these visits was to make the girl melancholy and dissatisfied with the realities of life. She did not care to play with the other young people. Nor did she favor the plan of her parents to marry her to a man much her senior in years, but a reputed chief. No attention was paid to her disinclination, and the man was informed that his offer had been favorably received. The day for the marriage was fixed and the guests invited.

The girl had told her parents that she would never consent to the match. On the evening preceding the day fixed for her marriage she dressed herself in her best garments and put on all her ornaments. Then she told her parents she was going to meet her little lover, the chieftain of the green plume, who was waiting for her at the Spirit Grove. Supposing she was going to act some harmless freak, they let her go. When she did not return at sunset alarm was felt; with lighted torches the gloomy pine forest was searched, but no trace of the girl was ever found, and the parents mourned the loss of a daughter whose inclinations they had, in the end, too violently thwarted.

THE GIRL AND THE SCALP

About the middle of the seventeenth century there lived on the shores of Lake Ontario a Wyandot girl so beautiful that she had for suitors nearly all the young men of her tribe; but while she rejected none, neither did she favor any one in particular. To prevent her from falling to someone not in their tribe the suitors held a meeting and concluded that their claims should be withdrawn and the war chief urged to woo her. He objected on account of the disparity of years, but was finally persuaded to make his advances. His practice had been confined rather to the use of stone-headed arrows than love-darts, and his dexterity in the management of hearts displayed rather in making bloody incisions than tender impressions. But after he had painted and arrayed himself as for battle and otherwise adorned his person, he paid court to her, and a few days later was accepted on condition that he would pledge his word as a warrior to do what she should ask of him. When his pledge had been given she told him to bring her the scalp of a certain Seneca chief whom she hated. He begged her to reflect that this chief was his bosom friend, whose confidence it would be an infamy to betray. But she told him either to redeem his pledge or be proclaimed for a lying dog, and then left him.

Goaded into fury, the Wyandot chief blackened his face and rushed off to the Seneca village, where he tomahawked his friend and rushed out of the lodge with his scalp. A moment later the mournful scalp-whoop of the Sénecas was resounding through the village. The Wyandot camp was attacked, and after a deadly combat of three days the Sénecas triumphed, avenging the murder of their chief by the death of his assailant as well as of the miserable girl who had caused the tragedy. The war thus begun lasted more than thirty years.

A CHIPPEWA LOVE-SONG

In 1759 great exertions were made by the French Indian Department under General Montcalm to bring a body of Indians into the valley of the lower St. Lawrence, and invitations for this purpose reached the utmost shores of Lake Superior. In one of the canoes from that quarter, which was left on the way down at the mouth of the Utawas, was a Chippewa girl named Paigwaineoshe, or the White Eagle. While the party awaited there the result of events at Quebec she formed an attachment for a young Algonquin belonging to a French mission. This attachment was mutual, and gave rise to a song of which the following is a prose translation:

I. Ah me! When I think of him when I think of him my
sweetheart, my Algonquin.

II. As I embarked to return, he put the white wampum around my
neck a pledge of troth, my sweetheart, my Algonquin.

III. I shall go with you, he said, to your native country I
shall go with you, my sweetheart my Algonquin.

IV. Alas! I replied my native country is far, far away my
sweetheart, my Algonquin.

V. When I looked back again where we parted, he was still
looking after me, my sweetheart, my Algonquin.

VI. He was still standing on a fallen tree that had fallen
into the water, my sweetheart, my Algonquin.

VII. Alas! When I think of him when I think of him It is when
I think of him, my Algonquin.

HOW “INDIAN STORIES” ARE WRITTEN

Here we have seven love-stories as romantic as you please and full of sentimental touches. Do they not disprove my theory that uncivilized races are incapable of feeling sentimental love? Some think they do, and Waitz is not the only anthropologist who has accepted such stories as proof that human nature, as far as love is concerned, is the same under all circumstances. The above tales are taken from the books of a man who spent much of his life among Indians and issued a number of works about them, one of which, in six volumes, was published under the auspices of the United States Government. This expert Henry R. Schoolcraft was member of so many learned societies that it takes twelve lines of small type to print them all. Moreover, he expressly assures us that “the value of these traditionary stories appears to depend very much upon their being left, as nearly as possible, in their original forms of thought and expression,” the obvious inference being an assurance that he has so left them; and he adds that in the collection and translation of these stories he enjoyed the great advantages of seventeen years’ life as executive officer for the tribes, and a knowledge of their languages.

And now, having given the enemy’s battle-ship every possible advantage, the reader will allow me to bring on my little torpedo-boat. In the first place Schoolcraft mentions (A.R., I., 56) twelve persons, six of them women, who helped him collect and interpret the material of the tales united in his volumes; but he does not tell us whether all or any of these collectors acted on the principle that these stories could claim absolutely no scientific value unless they were verbatim reports of aboriginal tales, without any additions and sentimental embroideries by the compilers. This omission alone is fatal to the whole collection, reducing it to the value of a mere fairy book for the entertainment of children, and allowing us to make no inferences from it regarding the quality and expression of an Indian’s love.

Schoolcraft stands convicted by his own action. When I read his tales for the first time I came across numerous sentences and sentiments which I knew from my own experience among Indians were utterly foreign to Indian modes of thought and feeling, and which they could no more have uttered than they could have penned Longfellow’s Hiawatha, or the essays of Emerson. In the stories of “The Red Lover,” “The Buffalo King,” and “The Haunted Grove," I have italicized a few of these suspicious passages. To take the last-named tale first, it is absurd to speak of Indian “fairies who love romantic scenes,” or of a girl romantically sitting on a rocky promontory, or “gathering strange flowers;” for Indians have no conception of the romantic side of nature of scenery for its own sake. To them a tree is simply a grouse perch, or a source of fire-wood; a lake, a fish-pond, a mountain, the dreaded abode of evil spirits. In the tale of the “Buffalo King” we read of the chief doing a number of things to win the affection of the refractory bride telling the others not to displease her, giving her “the seat of honor,” and going so far as to fast himself, whereas in real life, under such circumstances, he would have curtly clubbed the stolen bride into submission. In the tale of the “Red Lover” the girl is admired for her “slender form,” whereas a real Indian values a woman in proportion to her weight and rotundity. Indians do not make “protestations of inviolable attachment,” or “pledge vows of mutual fidelity,” like the lovers of our fashionable novels. As Charles A. Leland remarks of the same race of Indians (85), “When an Indian seeks a wife, he or his mutual friend makes no great ado about it, but utters two words which tell the whole story.” But there is no need of citing other authors, for Schoolcraft, as I have just intimated, stands convicted by his own action. In the second edition of his Algic Researches, which appeared after an interval of seventeen years and received the title of The Myth of Hiawatha and other Oral Legends of the North American Indians, he seemed to remember what he wrote in the preface of the first regarding these stories, “that in the original there is no attempt at ornament,” so he removed nearly all of the romantic embroideries, like those I have italicized and commented on, and also relegated the majority of his ludicrously sentimental interspersed poems to the appendix. In the preface to Hiawatha, he refers in connection with some of these verses to “the poetic use of aboriginal ideas.” Now, a man has a perfect right to make such “poetic use” of “aboriginal ideas,” but not when he has led his readers to believe that he is telling these stories “as nearly as possible in their original forms of thought and expression.” It is very much as if Edward MacDowell had published the several movements of his Indian Suite as being, not only in their ideas, but in their (modern European) harmonies and orchestration, a faithful transcript of aboriginal Indian music. Schoolcraft’s procedure, in other words, amounts to a sort of Ossianic mystification; and unfortunately he has had not a few imitators, to the confusion of comparative psychologists and students of the evolution of love.

It is a great pity that Schoolcraft, with his valuable opportunities for ethnological research, should not have added a critical attitude and a habit of accuracy to his great industry. The historian Parkman, a model observer and scholar, described Schoolcraft’s volumes on the Indian Tribes of the United States as

“a singularly crude and illiterate production, stuffed with blunders and contradictions, giving evidence on every page of a striking unfitness for historical or scientific inquiry."

REALITY VERSUS ROMANCE

A few of the tales I have cited are not marred by superadded sentimental adornments, but all of them are open to suspicion from still another point of view. They are invariably so proper and pure that they might be read to Sunday-school classes. Since one-half of Schoolcraft’s assistants in the compilation of this material were women, this might have been expected, and if the collection had been issued as a Fairy Book it would have been a matter of course. But they were issued as accurate “oral legends” of wild Indians, and from the point of view of the student of the history of love the most important question to ask was, “Are Indian stories in reality as pure and refined in tone as these specimens would lead us to suspect?” I will answer that question by citing the words of one of the warmest champions of the Indians, the eminent American anthropologist, Professor D.G. Brinton (M.N.W., 160):

“Anyone who has listened to Indian tales, not as they are recorded in books, but as they are told by the camp-fire, will bear witness to the abounding obscenity they deal in. That the same vulgarity shows itself in their arts and life, no genuine observer need doubt.”

And in a footnote he gives this extremely interesting information:

“The late George Gibbs will be acknowledged as an authority here. He was at the time of his death preparing a Latin translation of the tales he had collected, as they were too erotic to print in English. He wrote me, ’Schoolcraft’s legends are emasculated to a degree that they become no longer Indian.’”

No longer Indian, indeed! And these doctored stories, artfully sentimentalized at one end and expurgated at the other, are advanced as proofs that a savage Indian’s love is just as refined as that of a civilized Christian! What Indian stories really are, the reader, if he can stomach such things, may find out for himself by consulting the marvellously copious and almost phonographically accurate collection of native tales which another of our most eminent anthropologists, Dr. Franz Boas, has printed. And it must be borne in mind that these stories are not the secret gossip of vulgar men alone by themselves, but are national tales with which children of both sexes become familiar from their earliest years. As Colonel Dodge remarks (213): it is customary for as many as a dozen persons of both sexes to live in one room, hence there is an entire lack of privacy, either in word or act. “It is a wonder,” says Powers (271), “that children grow up with any virtue whatever, for the conversation of their elders in their presence is often of the filthiest description.” “One thing seems to me more than intolerable,” wrote the French missionary Le Jeune in 1632 (Jesuit Relations, V., 169).

“It is their living together promiscuously, girls, women, men, and boys, in a smoky hole. And the more progress one makes in the knowledge of the language, the more vile things one hears.... I did not think that the mouth of the savage was so foul as I notice it is every day.”

Elsewhere (VI., 263) the same missionary says:

“Their lips are constantly foul with these obscenities; and it is the same with the little children.... The older women go almost naked, the girls and young women are very modestly clad; but, among themselves, their language has the foul odor of the sewers.”

Of the Pennsylvania Indians Colonel James Smith (who had lived among them as a captive) wrote (140): “The squaws are generally very immodest in their words and actions, and will often put the young men to the blush.”

DECEPTIVE MODESTY

The late Dr. Brinton shot wide off the mark when he wrote (R. and P., 59) that even among the lower races the sentiment of modesty “is never absent.” With some American Indians, as in the races of other parts of the world, there is often not even the appearance of modesty. Many of the Southern Indians in North America and others in Central and South America wear no clothes at all, and their actions are as unrestrained as those of animals. The tribes that do wear clothes sometimes present to shallow or biassed observers the appearance of modesty. To the Mandan women Catlin (I., 93, 96) attributes “excessive modesty of demeanor.”

“It was customary for hundreds of girls and women to go bathing and swimming in the Missouri every morning, while a quarter of a mile back on a terrace stood several sentinels with bows and arrows in hand to protect the bathing-place from men or boys, who had their own swimming-place elsewhere.”

This, however, tells us more about the immorality of the men and their anxiety to guard their property than about the character of the women. On that point we are enlightened by Maximilian Prinz zu Wied, who found that these women were anything but prudes, having often two or three lovers at a time, while infidelity was seldom punished (I., 531). According to Gatschet (183) Creek women also “were assigned a bathing-place in the river currents at some distance below the men;” but that this, too, was a mere curiosity of pseudo-modesty becomes obvious when we read in Schoolcraft (V., 272) that among these Indians “the sexes indulge their propensities with each other promiscuously, unrestrained by law or custom, and without secrecy or shame.” Powers, too, relates (55) that among the Californian Yurok “the sexes bathe apart, and the women do not go into the sea without some garment on.” But Powers was not a man to be misled by specious appearances. He fully understood the philosophy of the matter, as the following shows (412):

“Notwithstanding all that has been said to the contrary by false friends and weak maundering philanthropists, the California Indians are a grossly licentious race. None more so, perhaps. There is no word in all their language that I have examined which has the meaning of ‘mercenary prostitute,’ because such a creature is unknown to them; but among the unmarried of both sexes there is very little or no restraint; and this freedom is so much a matter of course that there is no reproach attaching to it; so that their young women are notable for their modest and innocent demeanor. This very modesty of outward deportment has deceived the hasty glance of many travellers. But what their conduct really is is shown by the Argus-eyed surveillance to which women are subjected. If a married woman is seen even walking in the forest with another man than her husband she is chastised by him. A repetition of the offence is generally punished with speedy death. Brothers and sisters scrupulously avoid living alone together. A mother-in-law is never allowed to live with her son-in-law. To the Indian’s mind the opportunity of evil implies the commission of it.”

WERE INDIANS CORRUPTED BY WHITES?

Having disposed of the modesty fallacy, let us examine once more, and for the last time, the doctrine that savages owe their degradation to the whites.

In the admirable preface to his book on the Jesuit missionaries in Canada, Parkman writes concerning the Hurons (XXXIV.):

“Lafitau, whose book appeared in 1724, says that the nation was corrupt in his time, but that this was a degeneracy from their ancient manners. La Potherie and Charlevoix make a similar statement. Megapolensis, however, in 1644 says that they were then exceedingly debauched; and Greenhalgh, in 1677, gives ample evidence of a shameless license. One of their most earnest advocates of the present day admits that the passion of love among them had no other than an animal existence (Morgan, League of the Iroquois, 322). There is clear proof that the tribes of the South were equally corrupt. (See Lawson’s Carolina, 34, and other early writers.)”

Another most earnest advocate of the Indians, Dr. Brinton, writes (M.N.W., 159) that promiscuous licentiousness was frequently connected with the religious ceremonies of the Indians:

“Miscellaneous congress very often terminated their dances and festivals. Such orgies were of common occurrence among the Algonkins and Iroquois at a very early date, and are often mentioned in the Jesuit Relations; Venagas describes them as frequent among the tribes of Lower California, and Oviedo refers to certain festivals of the Nicaraguans, during which the women of all ranks extended to whosoever wished just such privileges as the matrons of ancient Babylon, that mother of harlots and all abominations, used to grant even to slaves and strangers in the temple of Melitta as one of the duties of religion.”

In Part I. (140-42) of the Final Report of Investigations among the Indians of the Southwestern United States, A.F. Bandelier, the leading authority on the Indians of the Southwest, writes regarding the Pueblos (one of the most advanced, of all American tribes):

“Chastity was an act of penitence; to be chaste signified to do penance. Still, after a woman had once become linked to a man by the performance of certain simple rites it was unsafe for her to be caught trespassing, and her accomplice also suffered a penalty. But there was the utmost liberty, even license, as toward girls. Intercourse was almost promiscuous with members of the tribe. Toward outsiders the strictest abstinence was observed, and this fact, which has long been overlooked or misunderstood, explains the prevailing idea that before the coming of the white man the Indians were both chaste and moral, while the contrary is the truth.”

Lewis and Clarke travelled a century ago among Indians that had never been visited by whites. Their observations regarding immoral practices and the means used to obviate the consequences bear out the above testimony. M’Lean (II., 59, 120) also ridicules the idea that Indians were corrupted by the whites. But the most conclusive proof of aboriginal depravity is that supplied by the discoverers of America, including Columbus and Amerigo Vespucci. Columbus on his fourth voyage touched the mainland going down near Brazil. In Cariay, he writes, the enchanters

“sent me immediately two girls very showily dressed. The elder could not be more than eleven years of age and the other seven, and both exhibited so much immodesty that more could not be expected from public women.”

On another page (30) he writes: “The habits of these Caribbees are brutal,” adding that in their attacks on neighboring islands they carry off as many women as they can, using them as concubines. “These women also say that the Caribbees use them with such cruelty as would scarcely be believed; and that they eat the children which they bear to them.”

Brazil was visited in 1501 by Amerigo Vespucci. The account he gives of the dissolute practices of the natives, who certainly had never set eye on a white man, is so plain spoken that it cannot be quoted here in full. “They are not very jealous,” he says, “and are immoderately libidinous, and the women much more so than the men, so that for decency I omit to tell you the ... They are so void of affection and cruel that if they be angry with their husbands they ... and they slay an infinite number of creatures by that means.... The greatest sign of friendship which they can show you is that they give you their wives and their daughters” and feel “highly honored” if they are accepted. “They eat all their enemies whom they kill or capture, as well females as males.” “Their other barbarous customs are such that expression is too weak for the reality.”

The ineradicable perverseness of some minds is amusingly illustrated by Southey, in his History of Brazil. After referring to Amerigo Vespucci’s statements regarding the lascivious practices of the aboriginals, he exclaims, in a footnote: “This is false! Man has never yet been discovered in such a state of depravity!” What the navigators wrote regarding the cannibalism and cruelty of these savages he accepts as a matter of course; but to doubt their immaculate purity is high treason! The attitude of the sentimentalists in this matter is not only silly and ridiculous, but positively pathological. As their number is great, and seems to be growing (under the influence of such writers as Catlin, Helen Hunt Jackson, Brinton, Westermarck, etc.), it is necessary, in the interest of the truth, to paint the Indian as he really was until contact with the whites (missionaries and others) improved him somewhat.

THE NOBLE RED MAN

Beginning with the Californians, their utter lack of moral sense has already been described. They were no worse than the other Pacific coast tribes in Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and Alaska. George Gibbs, the leading authority on the Indians of Western Oregon and Washington, says regarding them (I., 197-200):

“Prostitution is almost universal. An Indian, perhaps, will not let his favorite wife, but he looks upon his others, his sisters, daughters, female relatives, and slaves, as a legitimate source of profit.... Cohabitation of unmarried females among their own people brings no disgrace if unaccompanied with child-birth, which they take care to prevent. This commences at a very early age, perhaps ten or twelve years.”

“Chastity is not considered a virtue by the Chinook women,” says Ross (92),

“and their amorous propensities know no bounds. All classes, from the highest to the lowest, indulge in coarse sensuality and shameless profligacy. Even the chief would boast of obtaining a paltry toy or trifle in return for the prostitution of his virgin daughter.”

Lewis and Clarke (1814) found that among the Chinooks, “as, indeed, among all Indians” they became acquainted with on their perilous pioneer trips through the Western wilds, prostitution of females was not considered criminal or improper (439).

Such revelations, illustrating not individual cases of depravity, but a whole people’s attitude, show how utterly hopeless it is to expect refined and pure love of these Indians. Gibbs did not give himself up to any illusions on this subject. “A strong sensual attachment often undoubtedly exists,” he wrote (198),

“which leads to marriage, and instances are not rare of young women destroying themselves on the death of a lover; but where the idea of chastity is so entirely wanting in both sexes, this cannot deserve the name of love, or it is at best of a temporary duration.” The italics are mine.

In common with several other high authorities who lived many years among the Indians (as we shall see at the end of this chapter) Gibbs clearly realized the difference between red love and white love between sensual and sentimental attachments, and failed to find the latter among the American savages.

British Columbian capacity for sexual delicacy and refined love is sufficiently indicated by the reference on a preceding page (556) to the stories collected by Dr. Boas. Turning northeastward we find M’Lean, who spent twenty-five years among the Hudson’s Bay natives, declaring of the Beaver Indians (Chippewayans) that “the unmarried youth, of both sexes, are generally under no restraint whatever,” and that “the lewdness of the Carrier [Taculli] Indians cannot possibly be carried to a greater excess.” M’Lean, too, after observing these northern Indians for a quarter of a century, came to the conclusion that “the tender passion seems unknown to the savage breast.”

“The Hurons are lascivious,” wrote Le Jeune (whom I have already quoted), in 1632; and Parkman says (J.N.A., XXXIV.):

“A practice also prevailed of temporary or experimental marriage, lasting a day, a week, or more.... An attractive and enterprising damsel might, and often did, make twenty such marriages before her final establishing.”

Regarding the Sioux, that shrewd observer, Burton, wrote (C. of S., 116): “If the mother takes any care of her daughter’s virtue, it is only out of regard to its market value.” The Sioux, or Dakotas, are indeed, sometimes lower than animals, for, as S.R. Riggs pointed out, in a government publication (U.S. Geogr. and Geol. Soc., Vol. IX.), “Girls are sometimes taken very young, before they are of marriageable age, which generally happens with a man who has a wife already.” “The marriageable age,” he adds, “is from fourteen years old and upward.” Even the Mandans, so highly lauded by Catlin, sometimes brutally dispose of girls at the age of eleven, as do other tribes (Comanches, etc.).

Of the Chippewas, Ottawas, and Winnebagoes we read in H. Trumbull’s History of the Indian Wars (168):

“It appears to have been a very prevalent custom with the Indians of this country, before they became acquainted with the Europeans, to compliment strangers with their wives;”

and “the Indian women in general are amorous, and before marriage not less esteemed for gratifying their passions.”

Of the New York Indians J. Buchanan wrote (II., 104):

“that it is no offence for their married women to associate with another man, provided she acquaint her husband or some near relation therewith, but if not, it is sometimes punishable with death.”

Of the Comanches it is said (Schoolcraft, V., 683) that while “the men are grossly licentious, treating female captives in a most cruel and barbarous manner,” upon their women “they enforce rigid chastity;” but this is, as usual, a mere question of masculine property, for on the next page we read that they lend their wives; and Fossey (Mexique, 462) says: “Les Comanches obligent lé prisonnier blanc, dont ils ont admire lé valeur dans lé combat, a s’unir a leurs femmes pour perpétuer sa race.” Concerning the Kickapoo, Kansas, and Osage Indians we are informed by Hunter (203), who lived among them, that

“a female may become a parent out of wedlock without loss of reputation, or diminishing her chances for a subsequent matrimonial alliance, so that her paramour is of respectable standing.”

Maximilian Prinz zu Weid found that the Blackfeet, though they horribly mutilated wives for secret intrigues [violation of property right], offered these wives as well as their daughters for a bottle of whiskey. “Some very young girls are offered” (I., 531). “The Navajo women are very loose, and do not look upon fornication as a crime.”

“The most unfortunate thing which can befall a captive woman is to be claimed by two persons. In this case she is either shot or delivered up for indiscriminate violence” (Bancroft, I., 514).

Colonel R.I. Dodge writes of the Indians of the plains (204):

“For an unmarried Indian girl to be found away from her lodge alone is to invite outrage, consequently she is never sent out to cut and bring wood, nor to take care of the stock.”

He speaks of the “Indian men who, animal-like, approach a female only to make love to her,” and to whom the idea of continence is unknown (210). Among the Cheyennes and Arapahoes

“no unmarried woman considers herself dressed to meet her beau at night, to go to a dance or other gathering, unless she has tied her lower limbs with a rope.... Custom has made this an almost perfect protection against the brutality of the men. Without it she would not be safe for an instant, and even with it, an unmarried girl is not safe if found alone away from the immediate protection of the lodge” (213).

A brother does not protect his sister from insult, nor avenge outrage (220).

“Nature has no nobler specimen of man than the Indian,” wrote Catlin, the sentimentalist, who is often cited as an authority. To proceed: “Prostitution is the rule among the (Yuma) women, not the exception.” The Colorado River Indians “barter and sell their women into prostitution, with hardly an exception.” (Bancroft, I., 514.) In his Antiquities of the Southern Indians, C.C. Jones says of the Creeks, Cherokees, Muscogulges, etc. (69):

“Comparatively little virtue existed among the unmarried women. Their chances of marriage were not diminished, but rather augmented, by the fact that they had been great favorites, provided they had avoided conception during their years of general pleasure.”

The wife “was deterred, by fear of public punishment, from the commission of indiscretions.” “The unmarried women among the Natchez were unusually unchaste,” says McCulloh (165).

This damning list might be continued for the Central and South American Indians. We should find that the Mosquito Indians often did not wait for puberty (Bancroft, I., 729); that, according to Martius, Oviedo, and Navarette,

“in Cuba, Nicaragua, and among the Caribs and Tupis, the bride yielded herself first to another, lest her husband should come to some ill-luck by exercising a priority of possession.... This jus primae noctis was exercised by the priests” (Brinton, M.N.W., 155);

that the Waraus give girls to medicine men in return for professional services (Brett, 320); that the Guaranís lend their wives and daughters for a drink (Reich, 435); that among Brazilian tribes the jus primae noctis is often enjoyed by the chief (Journ. Roy. G.S., II., 198); that in Guiana “chastity is not considered an indispensable virtue among the unmarried women” (Dalton, I., 80); that the Patagonians often pawned and sold their wives and daughters for brandy (Falkner, 97); that their licentiousness is equal to their cruelty (Bourne, 56-57), etc., etc.

APPARENT EXCEPTIONS

A critical student will not be able, I think, to find any exceptions to this rule of Indian depravity among tribes untouched by missionary influences. Westermarck, indeed, refers (65) with satisfaction to Hearne’s assertion (311) that the northern Indians he visited carefully guarded the young people. Had he consulted page 129 of the same writer he would have seen that this does not indicate a regard for chastity as a virtue, but is merely a result of their habit of regarding women as property, to which Franklin, speaking of these same Indians, refers (287); for as Hearne remarks in the place alluded to, “it is a very common custom among the men of this country to exchange a night’s lodging with each other’s wives.” An equal lack of insight is shown by Westermarck, when he professes to find female chastity among the Apaches. For this assertion he relies on Bancroft, who does indeed say (I., 514) that “all authorities agree that the Apache women, both before and after marriage, are remarkably pure.” Yet he himself adds that the Apaches will lend their wives to each other. If the women are otherwise chaste, it is not from a regard for purity, but from fear of their cruel husbands and masters. United States Boundary Commissioner, Bartlett, has enlightened us on this point. “The atrocities inflicted upon an Apache woman taken in adultery baffle all description,” he writes, “and the females whom they capture from their enemies are invariably doomed to the most infamous treatment.” Thus they are like other Indians the Comanches, for instance, concerning whom we read in Schoolcraft (V., 683) that “the men are grossly licentious, treating female captives in a most cruel and barbarous manner; but they enforce rigid chastity upon their women.”

Among the Modocs a wife who violated her husband’s property rights in her “chastity,” was disembowelled in public, as Bancroft informs us (I., 350). No wonder, that, as he adds, “adultery, being attended with so much danger, is comparatively rare, but among the unmarried, who have nothing to fear, a gross licentiousness prevails.”

The Peruvian sun virgins are often supposed to indicate a regard for purity; but in reality the temples in which these girls were reared and guarded were nothing but nurseries for providing a choice assortment of concubines for the licentious Incas and their friends. (Torquemada, IX., 16.)

“In the earlier times of Peru the union of the sexes was voluntary, unregulated, and accompanied by barbarous usages: many of which even at the present day exist among the uncivilized nations of South America.” (Tschudi’s Antiquities, 184; McCulloh, 379.)

Of the Mexicans, too, it has been erroneously said that they valued purity; but Bandelier has collected facts from the old Spanish writers, in summing which up he says: “This almost establishes promiscuity among the ancient Mexicans, as a preliminary to formal marriage.” Oddly enough, the crime of adultery with a married woman was considered one against a cluster of kindred, and not against the husband; for if he caught the culprits in flagrante delictu and killed the wife, he lost his own life!

Another source of error regarding exceptional virtue in an Indian tribe lies in the fact that in some few cases female captives were spared. This was due, however, not to a chivalrous regard for female virtue, but to superstition. James Adair relates of the Choktah (164) that even a certain chief noted for his cruelty

“did not attempt the virtue of his female captives lest (as he told one of them) ’it should offend the Indian’s god;’ though at the same time his pleasures were heightened in proportion to the shrieks and groans from prisoners of both sexes while they were under his torture. Although the Choktah are libidinous, yet I have known them to take several female prisoners without offering the least violence to their virtue, till the time of purgation was expired; then some of them forced their captives, notwithstanding their pressing entreaties and tears.”

Parkman, too, was convinced (Jes. in Can., XXXIV.) that the remarkable forbearance observed by some tribes was the result of superstition; and he adds: “To make the Indian a hero of romance is mere nonsense.”

INTIMIDATING CALIFORNIA SQUAWS

Besides the atrocious punishments inflicted on women who forgot their rôle as private property, some of the Indians had other ways of intimidating them, while reserving for themselves the right to do as they pleased. Powers relates (156-61) that, among the California Indians in general,

“there is scarcely such an attribute known as virtue or chastity in either sex before marriage. Up to the time when they enter matrimony most of the young women are a kind of femmes incomprises, the common property of the tribe; and after they have once taken on themselves the marriage covenant, simple as it is, they are guarded with a Turkish jealousy, for even the married women are not such models as Mrs. Ford.... The one great burden of the harangues delivered by the venerable peace-chief on solemn occasions is the necessity and excellence of female virtue; all the terrors of superstitious sanction and the direst threats of the great prophet are levelled at unchastity, and all the most dreadful calamities and pains of a future state are hung suspended over the heads of those who are persistently lascivious. All the devices that savage cunning can invent, all the mysterious masquerading horrors of devil-raising, all the secret sorceries, the frightful apparitions and bugbears, which can be supposed effectual in terrifying women into virtue and preventing smock treason, are resorted to by the Pomo leaders.”

Among these Pomo Indians, and Californian tribes almost universally (406), there existed secret societies whose simple purpose was to conjure up infernal terrors and render each other assistance in keeping their women in subjection. A special meeting-house was constructed for this purpose, in which these secret women-tamers held a grand devil-dance once in seven years, twenty or thirty men daubing themselves with barbaric paint and putting vessels of pitch on their heads. At night they rushed down from the mountains with these vessels of pitch flaming on their heads, and making a terrible noise. The squaws fled for dear life; hundreds of them clung screaming and fainting to their valorous protectors. Then the chief took a rattlesnake from which the fangs had been extracted, brandished it into the faces of the shuddering women, and threatened them with dire things if they did not live lives of chastity, industry, and obedience, until some of the terrified squaws shrieked aloud and fell swooning upon the ground.

GOING A-CALUMETING

We are now in a position to appreciate the unintentional humor of Ashe’s indignant outcry, cited at the beginning of this chapter, against those who calumniate these innocent people “by denying that there is anything but ‘brutal passion’ in their love-affairs.” He admits, indeed, that “no expressions of endearment or tenderness ever escape the Indian sexes toward each other,” as all observers have remarked, but claims that this reserve is merely a compliance with a political and religious law which “stigmatizes youth wasting their time in female dalliance, except when covered with the veil of night and beyond the prying eye of man.” Were a man to speak to a squaw of love in the daytime, he adds, she would run away from him or disdain him. He then proceeds, with astounding naïveté, to describe the nocturnal love-making of “these innocent people.” The Indians leave their doors open day and night, and the lovers take advantage of this when they go a-courting, or “a-calumeting,” as it is called.

“A young man lights his calumet, enters the cabin of his mistress, and gently presents it to her. If she extinguishes it she admits him to her arms; but if she suffer it to burn unnoticed he softly retires with a disappointed and throbbing heart, knowing that while there was light she never could consent to his wishes. This spirit of nocturnal amour and intrigue is attended by one dreadful practice: the girls drink the juice of a certain herb which prevents conception and often renders them barren through life. They have recourse to this to avoid the shame of having a child a circumstance in which alone the disgrace of their conduct consists, and which would be thought a thing so heinous as to deprive them forever of respect and religious marriage rites. The crime is in the discovery.” “I never saw gallantry conducted with more refinement than I did during my stay with the Shawnee nation.”

In brief, Ashe’s idea of “refined” love consists in promiscuous immorality carefully concealed! “On the subject of love,” he sums up with an injured air, “no persons have been less understood than the Indians.” Yet this writer is cited seriously as a witness by Westermarck and others!

In view of the foregoing facts every candid reader must admit that to an Indian an expression like “Love hath weaned my heart from low desires,” or Werther’s “She is sacred to me; all desire is silent in her presence,” would be as incomprehensible as Hegel’s metaphysics; that, in other words, mental purity, one of the most essential and characteristic ingredients of romantic love, is always absent in the Indian’s infatuation. The late Professor Brinton tried to come to the rescue by declaring (E.A., 297) that

“delicacy of sentiment bears no sort of constant relation to culture. Every man ... can name among his acquaintances men of unusual culture who are coarse voluptuaries and others of the humblest education who have the delicacy of a refined woman. So it is with families, and so it is with tribes.”

Is it? That is the point to be proved. I myself have pointed out that among nations, as among individuals, intellectual culture alone does not insure a capacity for true love, because that also implies emotional and esthetic culture. Now in our civilized communities there are all sorts of individuals, many coarse, a few refined, while some civilized races, too, are more refined than others. To prove his point Dr. Brinton would have had to show that among the Indians, too, there are tribes and individuals who are morally and esthetically refined; and this he failed to do; wherefore his argument is futile. Diligent and patient search has not revealed to me a single exception to the rule of depravity above described, though I admit the possibility that among the Indians who have been for generations under missionary control such exceptions might be found. But we are here considering the wild Indian and not the missionary’s garden plant.

SQUAWS AND PERSONAL BEAUTY

An excellent test of the Indian’s capacity for refined amorous feeling may be found in his attitude toward personal beauty. Does he admire real beauty, and does it decide his choice of a mate? That there are good-looking girls among some Indian tribes cannot be denied, though they are exceptional. Among the thousands of squaws I have seen on the Pacific Slope, from Mexico to Alaska, I can recall only one whom I could call really beautiful. She was a pupil at a Sitka Indian school, spoke English well, and I suspect had some white blood in her. Joaquin Miller, who married a Modoc girl and is given to romancing and idealizing, relates (227) how “the brown-eyed girls danced, gay and beautiful, half-nude, in their rich black hair and flowing robes.” Herbert Walsh, speaking of the girls at a Navajo Indian school, writes that

“among them was one little girl of striking beauty, with fine, dark eyes, regularly and delicately modelled features, and a most winning expression. Nothing could be more attractive than the unconscious grace of this child of nature.”

I can find no indication, however, that the Indians ever admire such exceptional beauty, and plenty of evidence that what they admire is not beautiful. “These Indians are far from being connoisseurs in beauty,” wrote Mrs. Eastman (105) of the Dakotas. Dobrizhoffer says of the Abipones (II., 139) what we read in Schoolcraft concerning the Creeks: “Beauty is of no estimation in either sex;” and I have also previously quoted Belden’s testimony (302), that the men select the squaws not for their personal beauty but “their strength and ability to work;” to which he should have added, their weight; for bulk is the savage’s synonym for beauty. Burton (C.S., 128) admired the pretty doll-like faces of the Sioux girls, but only up to the age of six. “When full grown the figure becomes dumpy and trapu;” and that is what attracts the Indian. The examples given in the chapter on Personal Beauty of the Indians’ indifference to geological layers of dirt on their faces and bodies would alone prove beyond all possibility of dispute that they can have no esthetic appreciation of personal charms. The very highest type of Indian beauty is that described by Powers in the case of a California girl

“just gliding out of the uncomfortable obesity of youth, her complexion a soft, creamy hazel, her wide eyes dreamy and idle ... a not unattractive type of vacuous, facile, and voluptuous beauty”

a beauty, I need not add, which may attract, but would not inspire love of the sentimental kind, even if the Indian were capable of it.

ARE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS GALLANT?

Having failed to find mental purity and admiration of personal beauty in the Indian’s love-affairs, let us now see how he stands in regard to the altruistic impulses which differentiate love from self-love. Do Indians behave gallantly toward their women? Do they habitually sacrifice their comfort and, in case of need, their lives for their wives?

Dr. Brinton declares (Am. R., 48) that “the position of women in the social scheme of the American tribes has often been portrayed in darker colors than the truth admits.” Another eminent American anthropologist, Horatio Hale, wrote that women among the Indians and other savages are not treated with harshness or regarded as inferiors except under special circumstances. “It is entirely a question of physical comfort, and mainly of the abundance or lack of food,” he maintains. For instance, among the sub-arctic Tinneh, women are “slaves,” while among the Tinneh (Navajos) of sunny Arizona they are “queens.” Heckewelder declares (T.A.P.S., 142) that the labors of the squaws “are no more than their fair share, under every consideration and due allowance, of the hardships attendant on savage life.” This benevolent and oft-cited old writer shows indeed such an eager desire to whitewash the Indian warrior that an ignorant reader of his book might find some difficulty in restraining his indignation at the horrid, lazy squaws for not also relieving the poor, unprotected men of the only two duties which they have retained for themselves murdering men or animals. But the most “fearless” champion of the noble red man is a woman Rose Yawger who writes (in The Indian and the Pioneer, 42) that “the position of the Indian woman in her nation was not greatly inferior to that enjoyed by the American woman of to-day.” ... “They were treated with great respect.” Let us confront these assertions with facts.

Beginning with the Pacific Coast, we are told by Powers (405) that, on the whole, California Indians did not make such slaves of women as the Indians of the Atlantic side of the continent. This, however, is merely comparative, and does not mean that they treat them kindly, for, as he himself says (23), “while on a journey the man lays far the greatest burdens on his wife.” On another page (406) he remarks that while a California boy is not “taught to pierce his mother’s flesh with an arrow to show him his superiority over her, as among the Apaches and Iroquois,” he nevertheless afterward “slays his wife or mother-in-law, if angry, with very little compunction.” Colonel McKee, in describing an expedition among California Indians (Schoolcraft, III., 127), writes:

“One of the whites here, in breaking in his squaw to her household duties, had occasion to beat her several times. She complained of this to her tribe and they informed him that he must not do so; if he was dissatisfied, let him kill her and take another!” “The men,” he adds, “allow themselves the privilege of shooting any woman they are tired of.”

The Pomo Indians make it a special point to slaughter the women of their enemies during or after battle. “They do this because, as they argue with the greatest sincerity, one woman destroyed is tantamount to five men killed” (Bancroft, I., 160), for without women the tribe cannot multiply. A Modoc explained why he needed several wives one to take care of his house, a second to hunt for him, a third to dig roots (259). Bancroft cites half a dozen authorities for the assertion that among the Indians of Northern California “boys are disgraced by work” and “women work while men gamble or sleep” (I., 351). John Muir, in his recent work on The Mountains of California (80), says it is truly astonishing to see what immense loads the haggard old Pah Ute squaws make out to carry bare-footed over the rugged passes. The men, who are always with them, stride on erect and unburdened, but when they come to a difficult place they “kindly” pile stepping-stones for their patient pack-animal wives, “just as they would prepare the way for their ponies.”

Among some of the Klamath and other California tribes certain women are allowed to attain the rank of priestesses. To be “supposed to have communication with the devil” and be alone “potent over cases of witchcraft and witch poisoning” (67) is, however, an honor which women elsewhere would hardly covet. Among the Yurok, Powers relates (56), when a young man cannot afford to pay the amount of shell-money without which marriage is not considered legal, he is sometimes allowed to pay half the sum and become what is termed “half-married.” “Instead of bringing her to his cabin and making her his slave, he goes to live in her cabin and becomes her slave.” This, however, “occurs only in case of soft uxorious fellows.” Sometimes, too, a squaw will take the law in her own hands, as in a case mentioned by the same writer (199). A Wappo Indian abandoned his wife and went down the river to a ranch where he took another woman. But the lawful spouse soon discovered his whereabouts, followed him up, confronted him before his paramour, upbraided him fiercely, and then seized him by the hair and led him away triumphantly to her bed and basket. It is to check such unseemly “new-womanish” tendencies in their squaws that the Californians resorted to the bugaboo performances already referred to. The Central Californian women, says Bancroft (391), are more apt than the others to rebel against the tyranny of their masters; but the men usually manage to keep them in subjection. The Tatu and Pomo tribes intimidate them in this way:

“A man is stripped naked, painted with red and black stripes, and then at night takes a sprig of poison oak, dips it in water, and sprinkles it on the squaws, who, from its effects on their skins, are convinced of the man’s satanic power, so that his object is attained.” (Powers, 141.)

The pages of Bancroft contain many references besides those already quoted, showing how far the Indians of California were from treating their women with chivalrous, self-sacrificing devotion. “The principal labor falls to the lot of the women” (I., 351). Among the Gallinomeros,

“as usual, the women are treated with great contempt by the men, and forced to do all the hard and menial work; they are not even allowed to sit at the same fire or eat at the same repast with their lords” (390).

Among the Shoshones “the weaker sex of course do the hardest labor” (437), etc. With the Hupa a girl will bring in the market $15 to $50 “about half the valuation of a man.” (Powers, 85.)

Nor do matters mend if we proceed northward on the Pacific coast. Thus, Gibbs says (198) of the Indians of Western Oregon and Washington, “the condition of the woman is that of slavery under any circumstances;” and similar testimony might be adduced regarding the Indians of British Columbia and Alaska.

Among the eastern neighbors of the Californians there is one Indian people the Navajos of Arizona and New Mexico that calls for special attention, as its women, according to Horatio Hale, are not slaves but “queens.” The Navajos have lived for centuries in a rich and fertile country; their name is said to mean “large cornfields” and the Spaniards found, about the middle of the sixteenth century, that they practised irrigation. A more recent writer, E.A. Graves, says that the Navajos “possess more wealth than all the wild tribes in New Mexico combined. They are rich in horses, mules, asses, goats, and sheep.” Bancroft cites evidence (I., 513) that the women were the owners of the sheep; that they were allowed to take their meals with the men, and admitted to their councils; and that they were relieved of the drudgery of menial work. Major E. Backus also noted (Schoolcraft, IV., 214) that Navajo women “are treated more kindly than the squaws of the northern tribes, and perform far less of laborious work than the Sioux or Chippewa women.” But when we examine the facts more closely we find that this comparative “emancipation” of the Navajo women was not a chivalrous concession on the part of the men, but proceeded simply from the lack of occasion for the exercise of their selfish propensities. No one would be so foolish as to say that even the most savage Indian would put his squaw into the treadmill merely for the fun of seeing her toil. He makes a drudge of her in order to save himself the trouble of working. Now the Navajos were rich enough to employ slaves; their labor, says Major Backus, was “mostly performed by the poor dependants, both male and female.” Hence there was no reason for making slaves of their wives. Backus gives another reason why these women were treated more kindly than other squaws. After marriage they became free, for sufficient cause, to leave their husbands, who were thus put on their good behavior. Before marriage, however, they had no free choice, but were the property of their fathers. “The consent of the father is absolute, and the one so purchased assents or is taken away by force."

A total disregard of these women’s feelings was also shown in the “very extensive prevalence of polygamy,” and in the custom that the wife last chosen was always mistress of her predecessors. (Bancroft, I., 512.) But the utter incapacity of Navajo men for sympathetic, gallant, chivalrous sentiment is most glaringly revealed by the barbarous treatment of their female captives, who, as before stated, were often shot or delivered up for indiscriminate violence. Where such a custom prevails as a national institution it would be useless to search for refined feeling toward any woman. Indeed, the Navajo women themselves rendered the growth of refined sexual feeling impossible by their conduct. They were notorious, even among Indians, for their immodesty and lewd conduct, and were consequently incapable of either feeling or inspiring any but the coarsest sensual passion. They were not queens, as the astonishing Hale would have it, but they certainly were queans.

Concerning other Indians of the Southwest Yumas, Mojaves, Pueblos, etc. M.A. Dorchester writes:

“The native Indian is naturally polite, but until touched by civilization, it never occurred to him to be polite to his wife.” “If there is one drawback to Indian civilization more difficult to overcome than any other, it is to convince the Indian that he ought not to put the hardest work upon the Indian women.”

The ferocious Apaches make slaves of their women. (Bancroft, I., 512.) Among the Comanches “the women do all the menial work.” The husband has the pleasant excitement of killing the game, while the women do the hard work even here: “they butcher and transport the meat, dress the skins, etc.” “The females are abused and often beaten unmercifully.” (Schoolcraft, I., 236, V., 684.) The Moquis squaws were exempt from field labor not from chivalrous feelings but because the men feared amorous intrigues. (Waitz, IV., 209.) A Snake, Lewis and Clarke found (308),

“would consider himself degraded by being compelled to walk any distance; and were he so poor as to possess only two horses, he would ride the best of them, and leave the other for his wives and children and their baggage; and if he has too many wives or too much baggage for the horse, the wives have no alternative but to follow him on foot.”

Turning to the great Dakota or Sioux stock, we run against one of the most naïve of the sentimentalists, Catlin, who perpetrated several books on the Indians and made many “fearless” assertions about the red men in general and the Mandans in particular. G.E. Ellis, in his book, The Red Man and the While Man (101), justly observes of Catlin that “he writes more like a child than a well-balanced man,” and Mitchell (in Schoolcraft, III., 254) declares that much of what Catlin wrote regarding the Mandans existed “entirely in the fertile imagination of that gentleman,” Yet this does not prevent eminent anthropologists like Westermarck (359) from soberly quoting Catlin’s declaration that “it would be untrue and doing injustice to the Indians, to say that they were in the least behind us in conjugal, in filial, and in paternal affection” (L.N.N.A.I., I., 121). There is only one way of gauging a man’s affection, and that is by his actions. Now how, according to Catlin himself, does an Indian act toward his wife? Even among the Mandans, so superior to the other Indians he visited, he found that the women, however attractive or hungry they might be,

“are not allowed to sit in the same group with the men while at their meals. So far as I have yet travelled in the Indian country I have never seen an Indian woman eating with her husband. Men form the first group at the banquet, and women and children and dogs all come together at the next.”

Men first, women and dogs next yet they are “not in the least behind us in conjugal affection!” With his childish disregard of logic and lack of a sense of humor Catlin goes on to tell us that Mandan women lose their beauty soon because of their early marriages and “the slavish life they lead.” In many cases, he adds, the inclinations of the girl are not considered in marriage, the father selling her to the highest bidder.

Mandan conjugal affection, “just like ours,” is further manifested by the custom, previously referred to, which obliges mourning women to crop off all their hair, while of a man’s locks, which “are of much greater importance,” only one or two can be spared. (Catlin, l.c., I., 95, 119, 121; II., 123.) An amusing illustration of the Mandan’s supercilious contempt for women, also by Catlin, will be given later.

The Sioux tribes in general have always been notorious for the brutal treatment of their women. Mrs. Eastman, who wrote a book on their customs, once received an offer of marriage from a chief who had a habit of expending all his surplus bad temper upon his wives. He had three of them, but was willing to give them all up if she would live with him. She refused, as she “did not fancy having her head split open every few days with a stick of wood.” G.P. Belden, who also knew the Sioux thoroughly, having lived among them twelve years, wrote (270, 303-5) that “the days of her childhood are the only happy or pleasant days the Indian girl ever knows.” “From the day of her marriage [in which she has no choice] until her death she leads a most wretched life.” The women are “the servants of servants.” “On a winter day the Sioux mother is often obliged to travel eight or ten miles and carry her lodge, camp-kettle, ax, child, and several small dogs on her back and head.” She has to build the camp, cook, take care of the children, and even of the pony on which her lazy and selfish husband has ridden while she tramped along with all those burdens. “So severe is their treatment of women, a happy female face is hardly ever seen in the Sioux nation.” Many become callous, and take a beating much as a horse or ox does. “Suicide is very common among Indian women, and, considering the treatment they receive, it is a wonder there is not more of it."

Burton attests (C.S., 125, 130, 60) that “the squaw is a mere slave, living a life of utter drudgery.” The husbands “care little for their wives.” “The drudgery of the tent and field renders the squaw cold and unimpassioned.” “The son is taught to make his mother toil for him.” “One can hardly expect a smiling countenance from the human biped trudging ten or twenty miles under a load fit for a mule.” “Dacotah females,” writes Neill (82, 85),

“deserve the sympathy of every tender heart. From early childhood they lead worse than a dog’s life. Uncultivated and treated like brutes, they are prone to suicide, and, when desperate, they act more like infuriated beasts than creatures of reason.”

Of the Crow branch of the Dakotas, Catlin wrote: “They are, like all other Indian women, the slaves of their husbands ... and not allowed to join in their religious rites and ceremonies, nor in the dance or other amusements.” All of which is delightfully consistent with this writer’s assertion that the Indians are “not in the least behind us in conjugal affection."

In his Travels Through the Northwest Regions of the United States Schoolcraft thus sums up (231) his observations:

“Of the state of female society among the Northern Indians I shall say little, because on a review of it I find very little to admire, either in their collective morality, or personal endowments.... Doomed to drudgery and hardships from infancy ... without either mental resources or personal beauty what can be said in favor of the Indian women?”

A French author, Eugene A. Vail, writes an interesting summary (207-14) of the realistic descriptions given by older writers of the brutal treatment to which the women of the Northern Indians were subjected. He refers, among other things, to the efforts made by Governor Cass, of Michigan, to induce the Indians to treat their women more humanely; but all persuasion was in vain, and the governor finally had to resort to punishment. He also refers to the selfish ingenuity with which the men succeeded in persuading the foolish squaws that it would be a disgrace for their lords and masters to do any work, and that polygamy was a desirable thing. The men took as many wives as they pleased, and if one of them remonstrated against a new rival, she received a sound thrashing.

In Franklin’s Journey to the Shores of the Polar Sea we are informed (160) that the women are obliged to drag the heavily laden sledges:

“Nothing can more shock the feelings of a person accustomed to civilized life than to witness the state of their degradation. When a party is on a march the women have to drag the tent, the meat, and whatever the hunter possesses, whilst he only carries his gun and medicine case.”

When the men have killed any large beast, says Hearne (90), the women are always sent to carry it to the tent. They have to prepare and cook it,

“and when it is done the wives and daughters of the greatest captains in the country are never served till all the males, even those who are in the capacity of servants, have eaten what they think proper.”

Of the Chippewas, Keating says (II., 153), that “frequently ... their brutal conduct to their wives produces abortions.”

A friend of the Blackfoot Indians, G.B. Grinnell, relates (184, 216) that, while boys play and do as they please, a girl’s duties begin at an early age, and she soon does all a woman’s “and so menial” work. Their fathers select husbands for them and, if they disobey, have a right to beat or even kill them. “As a consequence of this severity, suicide was quite common among the Blackfoot girls.”

A passage in William Wood’s New England Prospect, published in 1634, throws light on the aboriginal condition of Indian women in that region. Wood refers to “the customarie churlishnesse and salvage inhumanitie” of the men. The Indian women, he says, are

“more loving, pittiful and modest, milde, provident, and laborious than their lazie husbands.... Since the English arrivall comparison hath made them miserable, for seeing the kind usage of the English to their wives, they doe as much condemne their husbands for unkindnesse and commend the English for love, as their husbands, commending themselves for their wit in keeping their wives industrious, doe condemn the English for their folly in spoiling good working creatures.”

Concerning the intelligent, widely scattered, and numerous Iroquois, Morgan, who knew them more intimately than anyone else, wrote (322), that “the Indian regarded woman as the inferior, the dependent, and the servant of man, and, from nature and habit, she actually considered herself to be so.” “Adultery was punished by whipping; but the punishment was inflicted on the woman alone, who was supposed to be the only offender” (331). “Female life among the Hurons had no bright side,” wrote Parkman (J.C., XXXIII.). After marriage,

“the Huron woman from a wanton became a drudge ... in the words of Champlain, ‘their women were their mules.’ The natural result followed. In every Huron town were shrivelled hags, hideous and despised, who, in vindictiveness, ferocity, and cruelty, far exceeded the men.”

The Jesuit Relations contain many references to the merciless treatment of their women by the Canadian Indians. “These poor women are real pack-mules, enduring all hardships.” “In the winter, when they break camp, the women drag the heaviest loads over the snow; in short, the men seem to have as their share only hunting, war, and trading” (IV., 205). “The women here are mistresses and servants” (Hurons, XV.). In volume III. of the Jesuit Relations (101), Biard writes under date of 1616:

“These poor creatures endure all the misfortunes and hardships of life; they prepare and erect the houses, or cabins, furnishing them with fire, wood, and water; prepare the food, preserve the meat and other provisions, that is, dry them in the smoke to preserve them; go to bring the game from the place where it has been killed; sew and repair the canoes, mend and stitch the skins, curry them and make clothes and shoes of them for the whole family; they go fishing and do the rowing; in short, undertake all the work except that alone of the grand chase, besides having the care and so weakening nourishment of the children....

“Now these women, although they have so much trouble, as I have said, yet are not cherished any more for it. The husbands beat them unmercifully, and often for a very slight cause. One day a certain Frenchman undertook to rebuke a savage for this; the savage answered, angrily: ’How now, have you nothing to do but to see into my house, every time I strike my dog?’”

Surely Dr. Brinton erred grievously when he wrote, in his otherwise admirable book, The American Race (49), that the fatigues of the Indian women were scarce greater than those of their husbands, nor their life more onerous than that of the peasant women of Europe to-day. Peasants in Europe work quite as hard as their wives, whereas the Indian except during the delightful hunting period, or in war-time, which, though frequent, was after all merely episodic did nothing at all, and considered labor a disgrace to a man, fit only for women. The difference between the European peasant and the American red man can be inferred by anyone from what observers reported of the Creek Indians of our Southern States (Schoolcraft, V., 272-77):

“The summer season, with the men, is devoted to war, or their domestic amusements of riding, horse-hunting, ball-plays, and dancing, and by the women to their customary hard labor.”

“The women perform all the labor, both in the house and field, and are, in fact, but slaves to the men, without any will of their own, except in the management of the children.”

“A stranger going into the country must feel distressed when he sees naked women bringing in huge burdens of wood on their shoulders, or, bent under the scorching sun, at hard labor in the field, while the indolent, robust young men are riding about, or stretched at ease on some scaffold, amusing themselves with a pipe or a whistle.”

The excesses to which bias and unintelligent philanthropy can lead a man are lamentably illustrated in the writings of the Moravian missionary, Heckewelder, regarding the Delaware Indians. He argues that

“as women are not obliged to live with their husbands any longer than suits their pleasure or convenience, it cannot be supposed that they would submit to be loaded with unjust or unequal burdens” (!) “Were a man to take upon himself a part of his wife’s duty, in addition to his own [hunting (!), for the Delawares were then a peaceful tribe], he must necessarily sink under the load, and of course his family must suffer with him.”

The heartless sophistry of this reasoning heartless because of its pitiless disregard of the burdens and sufferings of the poor women is exposed in part by his own admissions regarding the selfish actions of the men. He does not deny that after the women have harvested their corn or maple sugar the men arrogate the right to dispose of it as they please. He relates that in case of a domestic quarrel the husband shoulders his gun and goes away a week or so. The neighbors naturally say that his wife is quarrelsome. All the odium consequently falls on her, and when he gets back she is only too willing to drudge for him more than ever. Heckewelder naively gives the Indian’s recipe for getting a useful wife:

“Indian, when he see industrious squaw, which he like, he go to him [her], place his two forefingers close aside each other, make two look like one see him [her] smile which is all he [she] say, yes! so he take him [her] home. Squaw know too well what Indian do if he [she] cross! Throw him [her] away and take another! Squaw love to eat meat! no husband! no meat! Squaw do everything to please husband! he do same to please squaw [??]! live happy.”

When that Indian said “he do the same to please the squaw,” he must have chuckled at his own sarcasm. Heckewelder does, indeed, mention a few instances of kindness to a wife (e.g., going a great distance to get some berries which she, in a pregnant state, eagerly desired;) but these were obviously exceptional, as I have found nothing like them in other records of Indian life. It must be remembered that, as Roosevelt remarks (97) these Indians, under the influence of the Moravian missionaries, had been

“transformed in one generation from a restless, idle, blood-thirsty people of hunters arid fishers into an orderly, thrifty, industrious folk; believing with all their hearts the Christian religion.”

It was impossible, however, to drive out the devil entirely, as the facts cited show, and as we may infer from what, according to Loskiel, was true a century ago of the Delawares as well as the Iroquois: “Often it happens that an Indian deserts his wife because she has a child to suckle, and marries another whom he presently abandons for the same reason.” In this respect, however, the women are not much better than the men, for, as he adds, they often desert a husband who has no more presents to give them, and go with another who has. Truly Catlin was right when he said that the Indians (and these were the best of them) were “not in the least behind us in conjugal affection!”

Thus do even the apparent exceptions to Indian maltreatment of women which exceptions are constantly cited as illustrations of the rule melt away like mists when sunlight is brought to bear upon them. One more of these exceptions, of which sly sentimentalists have made improper use, must be referred to here. It is maintained, on the authority of Charlevoix, that the women of the Natchez Indians asserted their rights and privileges even above those of the men, for they were allowed to put unfaithful husbands to death while they themselves could have as many paramours as they pleased. Moreover, the husband had to stand in a respectful posture in the presence of his wife, was not allowed to eat with her, and had to salute her in the same way as the servants. This, truly, would be a remarkable sociological fact if it were a fact. But upon referring to the pages of Charlevoix (264) we find that these statements, while perfectly true, do not refer to the Natchez women in general, but only to the princesses, or “female suns.” These were allowed to marry none but private men; but by way of compensation they had the right to discard their husbands whenever they pleased and take another. The other women had no more privileges than the squaws of other tribes; whenever a chief saw a girl he liked he simply informed the relatives of the fact and enrolled her among the number of his wives. Charlevoix adds that he knew of no nation in America where the women were more unchaste. The privileges conferred on the princesses thus appear like a coarse, topsy-turvy joke, while affording one more instance of the lowest degradation of woman.

Summing up the most ancient and trustworthy evidence regarding Mexico, Bandelier writes (627):

“The position of women was so inferior, they were regarded as so far beneath the male, that the most degrading epithet that could be applied to any Mexican, aside from calling him a dog, was that of woman.”

If a woman presumed to don a man’s dress her death alone could wipe out the dishonor.

SOUTH AMERICAN GALLANTRY

So much for the Indians of North America. The tribes of the southern half of the continent would furnish quite as long and harrowing a tale of masculine selfishness and brutality, but considerations of space compel us to content ourselves with a few striking samples.

In the northern regions of South America historians say that “when a tribe was preparing poison in time of war, its efficacy was tried upon the old women of the tribe."

“When we saw the Chaymas return in the evening from their gardens,” writes Humboldt (I., 309),

“the man carried nothing but the knife or hatchet (machete) with which he clears his way among the underwood; whilst the woman, bending under a great load of plantains, carried one child in her arms, and, sometimes, two other children placed upon the load.”

Schomburgk (II., 428) found that Caribbean women generally bore marks of the brutal treatment to which they were subjected by the men. Brett noted (27, 31) that among the Guiana tribes women had to do all the work in field and home as well as on the march, while the men made baskets, or lay indolently in hammocks until necessity compelled them to go hunting or fishing. The men had succeeded so thoroughly in creating a sentiment among the women that it was their duty to do all the work, that when Brett once induced an Indian to take a heavy bunch of plantains off his wife’s head and carry it himself, the wife (slave to the backbone) seemed hurt at what she deemed a degradation of her husband. One of the most advanced races of South America were the Abipones of Paraguay. While addicted to infanticide they, contrary to the rule, were more apt to spare the female children; but their reason for this was purely commercial. A son, they said, would be obliged to purchase a wife, whereas daughters may be sold to a bridegroom (Dobrizhoffer, II., 97). The same missionary relates (214) that boys are laughed at, praised and rewarded for throwing bones, horns, etc., at their mothers.

“If their wives displease them, it is sufficient; they are ordered to decamp.... Should the husband cast his eyes upon any handsome woman the old wife must move merely on this account, her fading form and advancing age being her only accusers, though she may be universally commended for conjugal fidelity, regularity of conduct, diligent obedience, and the children she has borne.”

In Chili, among the Mapuches (Araucanians) the females, says Smith (214), “do all the labor, from ploughing and cooking to the saddling and unsaddling of a horse; for the ‘lord and master’ does nothing but eat, sleep, and ride about.” Of the Peruvian Indians the Jesuit Pater W. Bayer (cited Reich, 444) wrote about the middle of the eighteenth century that wives are treated as slaves and are so accustomed to being regularly whipped that when the husband leaves them alone they fear he is paying attention to another woman and beg him to resume his beating. In Brazil, we are informed by Spix and Martins (I., 381),

“the women in general are slaves of the men, being compelled when on the march to carry everything needed, like beasts of burden; nay, they are even obliged to bring home from the forest the game killed by the men.”

Tschndi (R.d.S.A., 284, 274) saw the marks of violence on many of the Botocudo women, and he says the men reserved for themselves the beautiful plumes of birds, leaving to the women such ornaments as pig’s claws, berries, and monkey’s teeth. A peculiar refinement of selfishness is alluded to by Burton (H.B., II., 49):

“The Brazilian natives, to warm their naked bodies, even in the wigwam, and to defend themselves against wild beasts, used to make their women keep wood burning all night.”

Of the Patagonians Falkner says (125) that the women “are obliged to submit to every species of drudgery.” He gives a long list of their duties (including even hunting) and adds:

“No excuse of sickness, or being big with child, will relieve them from their appointed labor; and so rigidly are they obliged to perform their duty, that their husbands cannot help them on any occasion, or in the greatest distress, without incurring the highest ignominy.”

Even the wives of the chiefs were obliged to drudge unless they had slaves. At their marriages there is little ceremony, the bride being simply handed over to the man as his property. The Fuegians, according to Fitzroy, when reduced to a state of famine, became cannibals, eating their old women first, before they kill their dogs. A boy being asked why they did this, answered: “Doggie catch otters, old women no.” (Darwin, V B., 214.)

Thus, from the extreme north to the extreme south of the American continent we find the “noble red man” consistent in at least one thing his maltreatment of women. How, in the face of these facts, which might be multiplied indefinitely, a specialist like Horatio Hale could write that there was among the Indians “complete equality of the sexes in social estimation and influence,” and that

“casual observers have been misled by the absence of those artificial expressions of courtesy which have descended to us from the time of chivalry, and which, however gracious and pleasing to witness, are, after all, merely signs of condescension and protection from the strong to the weak"

surpasses all understanding. It is a shameful perversion of the truth, as all the intelligent and unbiassed evidence of observers from the earliest time proves.

HOW INDIANS ADORE SQUAWS

Not content with maltreating their squaws, the Indians literally add insult to injury by the low estimation in which they hold them. A few sample illustrations must suffice to show how far that adoration which a modern lover feels for women and for his sweetheart in particular is beyond their mental horizon.

“The Indians,” says Hunter (250), “regarding themselves as the lords of the earth, look down upon the squaws as an inferior order of beings,” created to rear families and do all the drudgery; “and the squaws, accustomed to such usage, cheerfully acquiesce in it as a duty.” The squaw is not esteemed for her own sake, but “in proportion to the number of children she raises, particularly if they are males, and prove brave warriors.” Franklin says (287) that the Copper Indians “hold women in the same low estimation as the Chippewayans do, looking upon them as a kind of property which the stronger may take from the weaker.” He also speaks (157) “of the office of nurse, so degrading in the eyes of a Chippewayan, as partaking of the duties of a woman.” “The manner of the Indian boy toward his mother,” writes Willoughby (274), “is almost uniformly disrespectful;” while the adults consider it a disgrace to do a woman’s work that is, practically any work at all; for hunting is not regarded as work, but is indulged in for the sport and excitement. In the preface to Mrs. Eastman’s book on the Dakotas we read:

“The peculiar sorrows of the Sioux woman commence at her birth. Even as a child she is despised, in comparison with her brother beside her, who is one day to be a great warrior.”

“Almost everything that a man owns is sacred,” says Neill (86), “but nothing that the woman possesses is so esteemed.” The most insulting epithets that can be bestowed on a Sioux are coward, dog, woman. Among the Creeks, “old woman” is the greatest term of reproach which can be used to those not distinguished by war names. You may call an Indian a liar without arousing his anger, but to call him a woman is to bring on a quarrel at once. (Schoolcraft, V., 280.) If the Natchez have a prisoner who winces under torture he is turned over to the women as being unworthy to die by the hands of men. (Charlevoix, 207.) In many cases boys are deliberately taught to despise their mothers as their inferiors. Blackfeet men mourn for the loss of a man by scarifying their legs; but if the deceased is only a woman, this is never done. (Grinnell, 194.) Among all the tribes the men look on manual work as a degradation, fit only for women. The Abipones think it beneath a man to take any part in female quarrels, and this too is a general trait. (Dobrizhoffer, II., 155.) Mrs. Eastman relates (XVII.) that

“among the Dakotas the men think it undignified for them to steal, so they send their wives thus unlawfully to procure what they want and woe be to them if they are found out.”

Horse-stealing alone is considered worthy of superior man. But the most eloquent testimony to the Indian’s utter contempt for woman is contributed in an unguarded moment by his most ardent champion. Catlin relates (N.A.I., I., 226) how he at one time undertook to paint the portraits of the chiefs and such of the warriors as the chiefs deemed worthy of such an honor. All was well until, after doing the men, he proposed also to paint the pictures of some of the squaws:

“I at once got myself into a serious perplexity, being heartily laughed at by the whole tribe, both by men and by women, for my exceeding and (to them) unaccountable condescension in seriously proposing to paint a woman, conferring on her the same honor that I had done the chiefs and braves. Those whom I had honored were laughed at by the hundreds of the jealous, who had been decided unworthy the distinction, and were now amusing themselves with the very enviable honor which the great white medicine man had conferred especially on them, and was now to confer equally upon the squaws!”

CHOOSING A HUSBAND

It might be inferred a priori that savages who despise and abuse their women as the Indians do would not allow girls to choose their own husbands except in cases where no selfish reason existed to force them to marry the choice of their parents. This inference is borne out by the facts. Westermarck, indeed, remarks (215) that “among the Indians of North America, numberless instances are given of woman’s liberty to choose her husband.” But of the dozen or so cases he cites, several rest on unreliable evidence, some have nothing to do with the question at issue, and others prove exactly the contrary of what he asserts; while, more suo, he placidly ignores the mass of facts which disprove his assertion that “women are not, as a rule, married without having any voice of their own in the matter.” There are, no doubt, some tribes who allow their women more or less freedom. Apache courtship appears to be carried on in two ways, in each of which the girl has the power to refuse. In both cases the proposal is made by pantomime, without a word being spoken. According to Cremony (245). the lover stakes his horse in front of the girl’s “roost.” Should she favor his suit, she takes his horse, gives it food and water, and secures it in front of his lodge. Four days comprise the term allowed for an answer. Dr. J.W. Hoffman relates that a Coyotero Apache, having selected the girl he wants, watches to find out the trail she is apt to frequent when she goes to pick berries or grass seed. Having discovered it, he places a row of stones on both sides of it for a distance of ten or fifteen paces:

“He then allows himself to be seen by the maiden before she leaves camp, and running ahead, hides himself in the immediate vicinity of the row of stones. If she avoids them by passing to the outside, it is a refusal, but should she continue on her trail, and pass between the two rows, he immediately rushes out, catches her and ... carries her triumphantly to camp.”

Lewis and Clarke relate (441) that among the Chinooks the women “have a rank and influence very rarely found among Indians.” They are allowed to speak freely before the men, their advice is asked, and the men do not make drudges of them. The reason for this may be found in a sentence from Ross’s book on Oregon (90): “Slaves do all the laborious work.” Among such Indians one might expect that girls would have their inclinations consulted when it came to choosing a husband. In the twelfth chapter of his Wa-Kee-Nah, James C. Strong gives a graphic description of a bridal chase which he once witnessed among the Mountain Chinooks. A chief had an attractive daughter who was desired by four braves. The parents, having no special choice in the matter, decided that there should be a race on horseback, the girl being the winner’s prize. But if the parents had no preference, the girl had; she indulged in various ingenious manoeuvres to make it possible for the Indian on the bay horse to overtake her first. He succeeded, put his arm round her waist, lifted her from her horse to his own, and married her the next day.

Here the girl had her way, and yet it was only by accident, for while she had a preference, she had no liberty of choice. It was the parents who ordered the bridal race, and, had another won it, she would have been his. It is indeed difficult to find real instances of liberty of choice where the daughter’s desire conflicted with the wishes of the parents or other relatives. Westermarck claims that the Creeks endeavored to gain the girl’s consent, but no such fact can be gathered from the passage he refers to (Schoolcraft, V., 269). Moreover, among the Creeks, unrestrained license prevailed before marriage, and marriage was considered only as a temporary convenience, not binding on the party more than a year; and finally, Creeks who wanted to marry had to gain the consent of the young woman’s uncles, aunts, and brothers. Westermarck also says that among the Thlinkets the suitor had to consult the wishes of the “young lady;” yet on page 511 he tells us that among these Indians, “when a husband dies, his sister’s son must marry the widow.” It does not seem likely that where even widows are treated so unceremoniously, any deference is paid to the wishes of the “young ladies.” From Keating Westermarck gathers the information that although with the Chippewas the mothers generally settle the preliminaries to marriage without consulting the children, the parties are not considered husband and wife till they have given their consent. A reference to the original passage gives, however, a different impression, showing that the parents always have their own way, unless the girl elopes. The suitor’s mother arranges the matter with the parents of the girl he wants, and when the terms have been agreed upon her property is removed to his lodge. “The disappearance of the property is the first intimation which she receives of the contemplated change in her condition.” If one or both are unwilling, “the parents, who have a great influence, generally succeed in bringing them to second their views.”

COMPULSORY “FREE CHOICE”

A story related by C.G. Murr, a German missionary, warns us that assertions as to the girls being consulted must always be accepted with great caution. His remarks relate to several countries of Spanish America. He was often urged to find husbands for girls only thirteen years old, by their mothers, who were tired of watching them. “Much against my will,” he writes,

“I married such young girls to Indians fifty or sixty years old. At first I was deceived, because the girls said it was their free choice, whereas, in truth, they had been persuaded by their parents with flatteries or threats. Afterwards I always asked the girls, and they confessed that their father and mother had threatened to beat them if they disobeyed.”

In tribes where some freedom seems to be allowed the girls at present there are stories or traditions indicating that such a departure from the natural state of affairs is resented by the men. Sometimes, writes Dorsey (260) of the Omahas,

“when a youth sees a girl whom he loves, if she be willing, he says to her, ’I will stand in that place. Please go thither at night.’ Then after her arrival he enjoys her, and subsequently asks her of her father in marriage. But it was different with a girl who had been petulant, one who had refused to listen to the suitor at first. He might be inclined to take his revenge. After lying with her, he might say, ’As you struck me and hurt me, I will not marry you. Though you think much of yourself, I despise you.’ Then would she be sent away without winning him for her husband; and it was customary for the man to make songs about her. In these songs the woman’s name was not mentioned unless she had been a ‘minckeda,’ or dissolute woman."

A BRITISH COLUMBIA STORY

An odd story about a man who was so ugly that no girl would have him is related by Boas. This man was so distasteful to the girls that if he accidentally touched the blanket of one of them she cut out the piece he had touched. Ten times this had happened, and each time he had gathered the piece that had been cut out, giving it to his mother to save. Besides being so ugly, he was also very poor, having gambled away everything he possessed, and being reduced to the necessity of swallowing pebbles to allay the pangs of hunger. A sorcerer, however, put a fine new head on him and told him where he would find two lovely girls who had refused every suitor, but who would accept him. He did so and the girls were so pleased with his beauty that they became his wives at once and went home with him. He resumed his gambling and lost again, but his wives helped him to win back his losses. They also said to him:

“All the girls who formerly would have nothing to do with you will now be eager to be yours. Pay no attention to them, however, but repel them if they touch you.”

The girls did come to his mother, and they said they would like to be his wives. When the mother told him this, he replied: “I suppose they want to get back the pieces they cut out of their blankets.” He took the pieces, gave them to the girls, with taunting words, and drove them away.

THE DANGER OF COQUETRY

The moral of this sarcastic conclusion obviously was intended to be that girls must not show independence and refuse a man, though he be a reckless gambler, so poor that he has to eat pebbles, and so ugly that he needs to have a new head put on him. Another story, the moral of which was “to teach girls the danger of coquetry,” is told by Schoolcraft (Oneota, 381-84). There was a girl who refused all her suitors scornfully. In one case she went so far as to put together her thumb and three fingers, and, raising her hand gracefully toward the young man, deliberately open them in his face. This gesticulatory mode of rejection is an expression of the highest contempt, and it galled the young warrior so much that he was taken ill and took to his bed until he thought out a plan of revenge which cured him. He carried it out with the aid of a powerful spirit, or personal Manito. They made a man of rags and dirt, cemented it with snow and brought it to life. The girl fell in love with this man and followed him to the marshes, where the snow-cement melted away, leaving nothing but a pile of rags and dirt. The girl, unable to find her way back, perished in the wilderness.

THE GIRL MARKET

In the vast majority of instances the Indians did not simply try to curb woman’s efforts to secure freedom of choice by intimidating her or inventing warning stories, but held the reins so tightly that a woman’s having a will of her own was out of the question. It may be said that there are three principal stages in the evolution of the custom of choosing a wife. In the first and lowest stage a man casts his eyes on a woman and tries to get her, utterly regardless of her own wishes. In the second, an attempt is made to win at least her good-will, while in the third which civilized nations are just entering a lover would refuse to marry a girl at the expense of her happiness. A few Indian tribes have got as far as the second stage, but most of them belong to the first. Provided a warrior coveted a girl, and provided her parents were satisfied with the payment he offered, matters were settled without regard to the girl’s wishes. To avoid needless friction it was sometimes deemed wise to first gain the girl’s good-will; but this was a matter of secondary importance. “It is true,” says Smith in his book on the Indians of Chili (214),

“that the Araucanian girl is not regularly put up for sale and bartered for, like the Oriental houris; but she is none the less an article of merchandise, to be paid for by him who would aspire to her hand. She has no more freedom in the choice of her husband than has the Circassian slave.”

“Marriage with the North Californians,” says Bancroft (I., 349),

“is essentially a matter of business. The young brave must not hope to win his bride by feats of arms or softer wooing, but must buy her of her father like any other chattel, and pay the price at once, or resign in favor of a richer man. The inclinations of the girl are in nowise consulted; no matter where her affections are placed, she goes to the highest bidder. The purchase effected, the successful suitor leads his blushing property to his hut and she becomes his wife without further ceremony. Wherever this system of wife-purchase obtains the rich old men almost absorb the youth and beauty of the tribe, while the younger and poorer men must content themselves with old and ugly wives. Hence their eagerness for that wealth which will enable them to throw away their old wives and buy new ones."

A favorable soil for the growth of romantic and conjugal love! The Omahas have a proverb that an old man cannot win a girl, he can only win her parents; nevertheless if the old man has the ponies he gets the girl. The Indians insist on their rights, too. Powers tells (318) of a California (Nishinam) girl who loathed the man that had a claim on her. She took refuge with a kind old widow, who deceived the pursuers. When the deception was discovered, the noble warriors drew their arrows and shot the widow to death in the middle of the village amid general approval. I myself once saw a poor Arizona girl who had taken refuge with a white family. When I saw the man to whom she had been sold a dirty old tramp whom a decent person would not want in the same tribe, much less in the same wigwam I did not wonder she hated him; but he had paid for her and she was ultimately obliged to live with him.

Of the Mandans, Catlin says (I., 119) that wives “are mostly treated for with the father, as in all instances they are regularly bought and sold.” Belden relates (32) how he married a Sioux girl. One evening his Indian friend Frombe came to his lodge and said he would take him to see his sweetheart.

“I followed him and we went out of the village to where some girls were watching the Indian boys play at ball. Pointing to a good-looking Indian girl, Frombe said: ‘That is Washtella,’

“‘Is she a good squaw?’ I inquired.

“‘Very,’ he replied.

“‘But perhaps she will not want to marry me,’ I said.

“‘She has no choice,’ he answered, laughing.

“‘But her parents,’ I interposed, ’will they like this kind of proceeding?’

“’The presents you are expected to make them will be more acceptable than the girl,’ he answered.”

And when full moon came the two were married.

Blackfeet girls, according to Grinnell (316),

“had very little choice in the selection of a husband. If a girl was told she had to marry a certain man, she had to obey. She might cry, but her father’s will was law, and she might be beaten or even killed by him if she did not do as she was ordered.”

Concerning the Missasaguas of Ontario, Chamberlain writes (145), that in former times,

“when a chief desired to marry, he caused all the marriageable girls in the village to come together and dance before him. By a mark which he placed on the clothes of the one he had chosen her parents knew she had been the favored one.”

Of the Nascopie girls, M’Lean says (127) that “their sentiments are never consulted."’

The Pueblos, who treat their women exceptionally well, nevertheless get their wives by purchase. With the Navajos “courtship is simple and brief; the wooer pays for his bride and takes her home.” (Bancroft, L, 511.) Among the Columbia River Indians, “to give a wife away without a price is in the highest degree disgraceful to her family.” (Bancroft, I., 276.) “The Pawnees,” says Catlin, “marry and unmarry at pleasure. Their daughters are held as legitimate merchandise.... The women, as a rule, accept the situation with the apathy of the race.” Of the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, and other Plains Indians, Dodge says (216) that girls are regarded as valuable property to be sold to the highest bidder, in later times by preference to a white man, though it is known that he will probably soon abandon his wife. In Oregon and Washington “wives, particularly the later ones, are often sold or traded off.... A man sends his wife away, or sells her, at his will.” (Gibbs, 199.)

OTHER WAYS OF THWARTING FREE CHOICE

Besides this commercialism, which was so prevalent that, as Dr. Brinton says (A.R., 48), “in America marriage was usually by purchase,” there were various other obstacles to free choice. “In a number of tribes,” as the same champion of the Indian remarks, “the purchase of the eldest daughter gave a man a right to buy all the younger daughters as they reached nubile age.” Concerning the Blackfeet who were among the most advanced Indians Grinnell says (217) that

“all the younger sisters of a man’s wife were regarded as his potential wives. If he was not disposed to marry them, they could not be disposed of to any other man without his consent.” “When a man dies his wives become the potential wives of his brother.” “In the old days, it was a very poor man who did not have three wives. Many had six, eight, and some more than a dozen.”

Morgan refers (A.S., 432) to forty tribes where sisters were disposed of in bunches; and in all such cases liberty of choice is of course out of the question. Indeed the wide prevalence of so utterly barbarous and selfish a custom shows us vividly how far from the Indian’s mind in general was the thought of seriously consulting the choice of girls.

Furthermore, to continue Dr. Brinton’s enumeration, “the selection of a wife was often regarded as a concern of the gens rather than of the individual. Among the Hurons, for instance, the old women of the gens selected the wives for the young men, and united them with painful uniformity to women several years their senior.” “Thus,” writes Morgan (L. of I., 320),

“it often happened that the young warrior at twenty-five was married to a woman of forty, and oftentimes a widow; while the widower at sixty was joined to a maiden of twenty.”

Besides these obstacles to free choice there are several others not referred to by Dr. Brinton, the most important being the custom of wrestling for a wife, and of infant betrothal or very early marriage. According to a passage in Hearne (104) cited on a previous occasion, and corroborated by W.H. Hooper and J. Richardson, it has always been the custom of northern Indians to wrestle for the women they want, the strongest one carrying off the prize, and a weak man being “seldom permitted to keep a wife that a stronger man thinks worth his notice.” It is needless to say that this custom, which “prevails throughout all their tribes,” puts the woman’s freedom of choice out of question as completely as if she were a slave sold in the market. Richardson says (II., 24) that

“the bereaved husband meets his loss with the resignation which custom prescribes in such a case, and seeks his revenge by taking the wife of another man weaker than himself.”

Duels or fights for women also occurred in California, Mexico, Paraguay, Brazil and other countries.

Among the Comanches “the parents exercise full control in giving their daughters in marriage,” and they are frequently married before the age of puberty. (Schoolcraft, II., 132.) Concerning the customs of early betrothal and marriage enough has been said in preceding pages. It prevailed widely among the Indians and, of course, utterly frustrated all possibility of choice. In fact, apart from this custom, Indian marriage, being in the vast majority of cases with girls under fifteen, made choice, in any rational sense of the word, entirely out of the question.

CENTRAL AND SOUTH AMERICAN EXAMPLES

It has long been fashionable among historians to attribute to certain Indians of Central and South America a very high degree of culture. This tendency has received a check in these critical days. We have seen that morally the Mexicans, Central Americans, and Peruvians were hardly above other Indians. In the matter of allowing females to choose their mates we likewise find them on the same low level. In Guatemala even the men wore obliged to accept wives selected for them by their parents, and Nicaraguan parents usually arranged the matches. In Peru the Incas fixed the conditions under which matrimony might take place as follows:

“The bridegroom and bride must be of the same town or tribe, and of the same class or position; the former must be somewhat less than twenty-four years of age, the latter eighteen. The consent of the parents and chiefs of the tribes was indispensible.” (Tschudi, 184.)

Unless the consent of the parents had been obtained the marriage was considered invalid and the children illegitimate. (Garcilasso de la Vega, I., 207.) As regards the Mexicans, Bandelier shows (612, 620) that the position of woman was “little better than that of a costly animal,” and he cites evidence indicating that as late as 1555 it was ordained at a concile that since it is customary among the Indians “not to marry without permission of their principals ... and the marriage among free persons is not as free as it should be,” etc.

As for the other Indians of the Southern Continent it is needless to add that they too are habitually guided by the thought that daughters exist for the purpose of enriching their parents. To the instances previously cited I may add what Schomburgk says in his book on Guiana that if the girl to whom the parents betroth their son is too young to marry, they give him meanwhile a widow or an older unmarried woman to live with. This woman, after his marriage, becomes his servant. Musters declares (186) that among the Tehuelches (Patagonians) “marriages are always those of inclination.” But Falkner’s story is quite different (124):

“As many of these marriages are compulsive on the side of the woman, they are frequently frustrated. The contumacy of the woman sometimes tires out the patience of the man, who then turns her away, or sells her to the person on whom she has fixed her affections.”

Westermarck fancies he has a case on his side in Tierra del Fuego, where, “according to Lieutenant Bove, the eagerness with which young women seek for husbands is surprising, but even more surprising is the fact that they nearly always attain their ends.” More careful study of the pages of the writer referred to and a moment’s unbiassed reflection would have made it clear to Westermarck that there is no question here either of choice or of marriage in our sense of the words. The “husbands” the girls hunted for were boys of fourteen to sixteen, and the girls themselves began at twelve to thirteen years of age, or five years before they became mothers, and Fuegian marriage “is not regarded as complete until the woman has become a mother,” as Westermarck knew (22, 138). In reality the conduct of these girls was nothing but wantonness, in which the men, as a matter of course, acquiesced. The missionaries were greatly scandalized at the state of affairs, but their efforts to improve it were strongly resented by the natives.

WHY INDIANS ELOPE

With the Abipones of Paraguay “it frequently happens,” according to Dobrizhoffer (207),

“that the girl rescinds what has been settled and agreed upon between the parents and the bridegroom, obstinately rejecting the very mention of marriage. Many girls, through fear of being compelled to marry, have concealed themselves in the recesses of the woods or lakes; seeming to dread the assaults of tigers less than the untried nuptials.”

The italics are mine; they make it obvious that the choice of the girls is not taken into account and that they can escape parental tyranny only by running away. Among the Indians in general it often happens that merely to escape a hated suitor a girl elopes with another man. Such cases are usually referred to as love-matches, but all they indicate is a (comparative) preference, while proving that there was no liberty of choice. A girl whose parents try to force her on a much-married warrior four or five times her age must be only too glad to run away with any young man who comes along, love or no love.

In the chapter on Australia I commented on Westermarck’s topsy-turvy disposition to look upon elopements as indications of the liberty of choice. He repeats the same error in his references to Indians. “It is indeed,” he says,

“common in America for a girl to run away from a bridegroom forced upon her by the parents, whilst, if they refuse to give their daughter to a suitor whom she loves, the couple elope. Thus, among the Dakotas, as we are told by Mr. Prescott, ’there are many matches made by elopement, much to the chagrin of the parents.’”

The italics again indicate that denial of choice is the custom, while the elopement indicates the same thing, for if there were liberty of choice there would be no need of eloping. Moreover, an Indian elopement does not at all indicate a romantic preference on the part of an eloping couple. If we examine the matter carefully we find that an Indian elopement is usually a very prosaic affair indeed. A young man likes a girl and wishes to marry her; but she has no choice, as her father insists on a number of ponies or blankets in payment for her which the suitor may not have; therefore the two ran away. In other words, an Indian elopement is a purely commercial transaction, and one of a very shady character too, being nothing less than a desire to avoid paying the usual price for a girl. It is in fact a kind of theft, an injustice to the parents; for while paying for a bride may be evidence of savagery, it is the custom among Indians, and parents naturally resent its violation, though ultimately they may forgive the elopers. Dodge relates (202) that among the Indians of the great plains parents prefer a rich suitor, though he may have several wives already. If the daughter prefers another man the only thing to do is to elope. This is not easy, for a careful watch is kept on suspicious cases. But the girl may manage to step out while the family is asleep. The lover has two ponies in readiness, and off they speed. If overtaken by the pursuers the man is liable to be killed. If not, the elopers return after a few weeks and all is forgiven. Such elopements, Dodge adds, are frequent in the reservations where young men are poor and cannot afford ponies. Moreover, the concentration of large numbers of Indians of different bands and tribes on the reservations has increased the opportunities of acquaintance and love-making among the young people.

In an article on Love-Songs among the Omaha Indians, Miss Alice Fletcher calls attention to the fact that the individual is little considered in comparison with the tribal organization: “Marriage was therefore an affair of the gentes, and not the free union of a man and woman as we understand the relation.” But side by side with the formal marriage sanctioned by the tribe grew up the custom of secret courtship and elopement; so the saying among the Omahas is: “An old man buys his wife; a young man steals his.” Dorsey says (260):

“Should a man get angry because his single daughter, sister, or niece has eloped, the other Omahas would talk about him saying, ’That man is angry on account of the elopement of his daughter.’ They would ridicule him for his behavior.”

Other Indians take the matter much more seriously. When a Blackfoot girl elopes her parents feel very bitter against the man.

“The girl has been stolen. The union is no marriage at all. The old people are ashamed and disgraced for their daughter. Until the father has been pacified by satisfactory payments, there is no marriage.” (Grinnell, 215.)

The Nez Perces so bitterly resent elopements that they consider the bride in such a case as a prostitute and her parents may seize upon the man’s property. (Bancroft, I., 276.)

Indian elopements, I repeat, are nothing but attempts to dodge payment for a bride, and therefore do not afford the least evidence of exalted sentiments, i.e., of romantic love, however romantic they may be as incidents. Read, for instance, what Mrs. Eastman writes (103) regarding the Sioux:

“When a young man is unable to purchase the girl he loves best, or if her parents are unwilling she should marry him, if he have gained the heart of the maiden he is safe. They appoint a time and place to meet; take whatever will be necessary for their journey.... Sometimes they merely go to the next village to return the next day. But if they fancy a bridal tour, away they go several hundred miles, with the grass for their pillow, the canopy of heaven for their curtains, and the bright stars to watch over them. When they return home the bride goes at once to chopping wood, and the groom to smoking.”

What does such a romantic incident tell us regarding the nature of the elopers’ feelings whether they are refined and sentimental or purely sensual and frivolous? Nothing whatever. But the last sentence of Mrs. Eastman’s description photographed from life indicates the absence of at least four of the most elementary and important ingredients of romantic love. If he adored his bride, if he sympathized with her feelings, if he felt the faintest impulse toward gallantry or sacrifice of his selfish comforts, he would not allow her to chop wood while he loafed and smoked. Moreover, if he had an appreciation of personal beauty he would not permit his wife to sacrifice hers before she is out of her teens by making her do all the hard work. But why should he care? Since all his marriage customs are on a commercial basis, why should he not discard a wife of thirty and take two new ones of fifteen each?

SUICIDE AND LOVE

Having thus disposed of elopements, let us examine another phenomenon which has always been a mainstay of those who would fain make out that in matters of love there is no difference between us and savages. Waitz (III., 102) accepts stories of suicide as evidence of genuine romantic love, and Westermarck follows his example (358, 530), while Catlin (II., 143) mentions a rock called Lover’s Leap,

“from the summit of which, it is said, a beautiful Indian girl, the daughter of a chief, threw herself off, in presence of her tribe, some fifty years ago, and dashed herself to pieces, to avoid being married to a man whom her father had decided to be her husband, and whom she would not marry.”

Keating has a story which he tells with all the operatic embellishments indulged in by his guide (I., 280). Reduced to its simplest terms, the tale, as he gives it, is as follows:

In a village of the tribe of Wapasha there lived a girl named Winona. She became attached to a young hunter who wished to marry her, but her parents refused their consent, having intended her for a prominent warrior. Winona would not listen to the warrior’s addresses and told her parents she preferred the hunter, who would always be with her, to the warrior, who would be constantly away on martial exploits. The parents paid no attention to her remonstrances and fixed the day for her wedding to the man of their choice. While all were busy with the preparations, she climbed the rock overhanging the river. Having reached the summit, she made a speech full of reproaches to her family, and then sang her dirge. The wind wafted her words and song to her family, who had rushed to the foot of the rock. They implored her to come down, promising at last that she should not be forced to marry. Some tried to climb the rock, but before they could reach her she threw herself down the precipice and fell a corpse at the feet of her friends.

Mrs. Eastman also relates the story of Winona’s leap (65-70). “The incident is well known,” she writes. “Almost everyone has read it a dozen times, and always differently told.” It is needless to say that a story told in a dozen different ways and embellished by half-breed guides and white collectors of legends has no value as scientific evidence. But even if we grant that the incidents happened just as related, there is nothing to indicate the presence of exalted sentiments. The girl preferred the hunter because he would be more frequently with her than the warrior (one of the versions says she wanted to wed “the successful hunter") which leaves us in doubt as to the utilitarian or sentimental quality of her attachment. Apparently she was not very eager to marry the hunter, for had she been, why did she refuse to live when they told her she would not be forced to marry the warrior? But the most important consideration is that she did not commit suicide for love at all, but from aversion to escape being married to a man she disliked. Aversion is usually the motive which leads Indian women to what are called “suicides for love.” As Griggs remarks (l.c.):

“Sometimes it happens that a young man wants a girl, and her friends are also quite willing, while she alone is unwilling. The purchase-bundle is desired by her friends, and hence compulsion is resorted to. The girl yields and goes to be his slave, or she holds out stoutly, sometimes taking her own life as the alternative. Several cases of the kind have come to the personal knowledge of the writer.”

Not long ago I read in the Paris Figaro a learned article on suicide in which the assertion was made that, as is well known, savages never take their own lives. W.W. Westcott, in his otherwise excellent book on suicide, which is based on over a hundred works relating to his subject, makes the same astounding assertion. I have shown in preceding pages that many Africans and Polynesians commit suicide, and I may now add that Indians seem still more addicted to this idiotic practice. Sometimes, indeed, they have cause for it. I have already cited the words of Belden that suicide is very common among Indian women, and that “considering the treatment they receive, it is a wonder there is not more of it.” Keating says (II., 172) that “among the women suicide is far more frequent [than among men], and is the result of jealousy, or of disappointments in love; sometimes extreme grief at the loss of a child will lead to it.” “Not a season passes away,” writes Mrs. Eastman (169),

“but we hear of some Dacotah girl who puts an end to her life in consequence of jealousy, or from the fear of being forced to marry some one she dislikes. A short time ago a very young girl hung herself rather than become the wife of a man who was already the husband of one of her sisters.”

It cannot be denied that in some of these cases (which might be multiplied indefinitely) there is a strong provocation to self-murder. But as a rule suicide among Indians, as among other savages and barbarians, and among civilized races, is not proof of strong feeling, but of a weak intellect. The Chippewas themselves hold it to be a foolish thing (Keating, II., 168); and among the Indians in general it was usually resorted to for the most trivial causes.

“The very frequent suicides committed [by Creeks] in consequence of the most trifling disappointment or quarrel between men and women are not the result of grief, but of savage and unbounded revenge.”

(Schoolcraft, V., 272.) Krauss (222) found that suicide was frequent among the Alaskan Thlinket Indians. Men sometimes resorted to it when they saw no other way of securing revenge, for a person who causes a suicide is fined and punished as if he were a murderer. One woman cut her throat because a shahman accused her of having by sorcery caused another one’s illness. A favorite mode of committing suicide is to go out into the sea, cast away oar and rudder, and deliver themselves to wind and waves. Sometimes they change their mind. A man, whose face had been all scratched up by his angry wife, left home to end his life; but after spending the night with a trader he concluded to go home and make up the quarrel. Mrs. Eastman (48) tells of an old squaw who wanted to hang herself because she was angry with her son; but when, “after having doubled the strap four times to prevent its breaking, she found herself choking, her courage gave way she yelled frightfully.” They cut her down and in an hour or two she was quite well again. Another squaw, aged ninety, attempted to hang herself because the men would not allow her to go with a war-party. Her object in wanting to go was to have the pleasure of mutilating the corpses of enemies! Keating says that Sank men sometimes kill themselves because they are envious of the power of others. Neill (85) records the cases of a Dakota wife who hanged herself because her husband had flogged her for hiding his whiskey; of a woman who hanged herself because her son-in-law refused to give her whiskey; of an old woman who flew into a passion and committed suicide because her pet granddaughter had been whipped by her father.

If a storm in a tea-kettle is accepted as a true storm, then we may infer from these suicides the existence of deep feeling and profound despair. As a matter of fact, a savage’s feelings are no deeper than a tea-kettle, and for that very reason they boil up and overflow more readily than if they were deeper. Loskiel tells us (74-75), that Delaware Indians, both men and women, have committed suicide on discovering that their spouse was unfaithful; these are the same Indians among whom husbands used to abandon their wives when they had babes, and wives their husbands when there were no more presents to receive. Yet even if we admitted such feelings to have been deep, suicide would not prove the existence of genuine affection. Heckewelder reports instances of Indians who took their own lives because the girls they loved and were engaged to jilted them and married other men. Was the love which led to these suicides mere sensual passion or was it refined sentiment, devoted affection? There is nothing to tell us, and the inference from everything we know about Indians is that it was purely sensual. Gibbs, who understood Indian nature thoroughly, took this view when he wrote (198) that among the Indians of Oregon and Washington “a strong sensual attachment” not rarely leads young women to destroy themselves on the death of a lover. And the writer who refers in Schoolcraft (V., 272) to the frequent suicides among the Creeks declares that genuine love is unknown to any of them. Had the young men referred to by Heckewelder lost their lives in trying to save the lives of the girls in question, it might be permissible to infer the existence of affection, but no Indian has ever been known to commit such an act. If a savage commits suicide he does it like everything else, for selfish reasons as an antidote to distress and selfishness is the very negation of love. The distinguished psychologist, Dr. Maudsley, has well said that

“any poor creature from the gutter can put an end to himself; there is no nobility in the act and no great amount of courage required for it. It is a deed rather of cowardice shirking duty, generated in a monstrous feeling of self, and accomplished in the most sinful, because wicked, ignorance.”

In itself, no doubt, a suicide is apt to be extremely “romantic,” A complete dime-novel is condensed in a few remarks which Squier makes anent a quaint Nicaraguan custom.

Poor girls, he says, would often get their marriage portion by having amours with several young men. Having collected enough for a “dowry,” the girl would assemble all her lovers and ask them to build a house for her and the one she intended to choose for a husband. She then selected the one she liked best, and the others had their pains and their past for their love. Sometimes it happened that one of the discarded lovers committed suicide from grief. In that case the special honor was in store for him of being eaten up by his former rivals and colleagues. The bride also, I presume, partook of the feast at least after the men had had all they wanted.

LOVE-CHARMS

Indians indulge not only in elopements and suicide, but in the use of love-charms powders, potions, and incantations. Inasmuch as the distinguished anthropologist Waitz mentions (III., 102) the use of such charms among the things which show that “genuine romantic love is not rare among Indians,” it behooves us to investigate the matter.

The ancient Peruvians had, according to Tschudi, a special class of medicine men whose business it was

“to bring lovers together. For this purpose they prepared talismans made from roots or feathers, which were introduced, secretly if possible, into the clothes or bed of those whose inclination was to be won. Sometimes hairs of the persons whose love was to be won were used, or else highly colored birds from the forest, or their feathers only. They also sold to the lovers a so-called Kuyanarumi (a stone to cause love) of which they said it could be found only in places that had been struck by lightning. They were mostly black agates with white veins and were called Sonko apatsinakux (mutual heart-carriers). These Runatsinkix (human-being-uniters) also prepared infallible and irresistible love-potions.”

Among North American Indians the Ojibways or Chippawas appear to have been especially addicted to the use of love-powders. Keating writes (II., 163):

“There are but few young men or women among the Chippewas who have not compositions of this kind, to promote love in those in whom they feel an interest. These are generally powders of different colors; sometimes they insert them into punctures made in the heart of the little images which they procure for this purpose. They address the images by the names of those whom they suppose them to represent, bidding them to requite their affection. Married women are likewise provided with powders, which they rub over the heart of their husbands while asleep, in order to secure themselves against any infidelity.”

Hoffman says of these same powders that they are held in great honor, and that their composition is a deep secret which is revealed to others only in return for high compensation. Nootka maidens sometimes sprinkle love-powders into the food intended for their lovers, and await their coming. The Menomini have a charm called takosawos, “the powder that causes people to love one another.” It is composed of vermilion and mica laminae, ground very fine and put into a thimble which is carried suspended from the neck or from some part of the wearing apparel. It is also necessary to secure from the one whose inclination is to be won a hair, a nail-paring, or a small scrap of clothing, which must also be put into the thimble.

The Rev. Peter Jones says (155) that the Ojibway Indians have a charm made of red ochre and other ingredients, with which they paint their faces, believing it to possess a power so irresistible as to cause the object of their desire to love them. But the moment this medicine is taken away, and the charm withdrawn, the person who before was almost frantic with love hates with a perfect hatred. The Sioux also have great faith in spells.

“A lover will take gum,” says Mrs. Eastman, “and, after putting some medicine in it, will induce the girl of his choice to chew it, or put it in her way so that she will take it up of her own accord.” Burton thought (160) that an Indian woman “will administer ‘squaw medicine,’ a love philter, to her husband, but rather for the purpose of retaining his protection than his love.”

Quite romantic are all these things, no doubt; but I fail to see that they throw any light whatever on the problem whether Indians can love sentimentally. Waitz refers particularly to the Chippewa custom of putting powders into the images of coveted persons as a symptom of “romantic love,” forgetting that a superstitious fool may resort to such a procedure to evoke any kind of love, sensual or sentimental, and that unless there are other and more specific symptoms there is nothing to indicate the quality of the lover’s feelings or the ethical character of his desires.

CURIOSITIES OF COURTSHIP

Some of the Indian courtship customs are quite romantic; perhaps we may find evidence of romantic love in this direction. Those of the Apaches have been already referred to. Pawnee courtship is thus described by Grinnell.

“The young man took his stand at some convenient point where he was likely to see the young woman and waited for her appearance. Favorite places for waiting were near the trail which led down to the river or to the spot usually resorted to for gathering wood. The lover, wrapped in his robe or blanket, which covered his whole person except his eyes, waited here for the girl, and as she made her appearance stepped up to her and threw his blanket about her, holding her in his arms. If she was favorably inclined to him she made no resistance, and they might stand there concealed by the blanket, which entirely covered them, talking to one another for hours. If she did not favor him she would at once free herself from his embrace and go away.”

This blanket-courtship, as it might be called, also prevailed among the Indians of the great plains described by Colonel Dodge (193-223). The lover, wrapped in a blanket, approaches the girl’s lodge and sits before it. Though in plain view of everybody, it is etiquette not to see a lover under such circumstances. After more or less delay the girl may give signs and come out, but not until she has taken certain precautions against the Indian’s “romantic” love which have been already referred to. He seizes her and carries her off a little distance. At first they sit under two blankets, but later on one suffices. Thus they remain as long as they please, and no one disturbs them. If there is more than one suitor the girl cries out if seized by the wrong one, who at once lets go. In these cases it may seem as if the girl had her own choice. But it does not at all follow that because she favors a certain suitor she will be allowed to marry him. If her father prefers another she will have to take him, unless her lover is ready to risk an elopement.

The Piutes of the Pacific slope, like some eastern Indians, appear to have indulged in a form of nocturnal courtship strikingly resembling that of the Dyaks of Bornéo. The Indian woman (Sarah W. Hopkins) who wrote Life Among the Piutes declares that the lover never speaks to his chosen one,

“but endeavors to attract her attention by showing his horsemanship, etc. As he knows that she sleeps next to her grandmother in the lodge, he enters in full dress after the family has retired for the night, and seats himself at her feet. If she is not awake, her grandmother wakes her. He does not even speak to the young woman or grandmother, but when the young woman wishes him to go away, she rises and goes and lies down by the side of her mother. He then leaves as silently as he came in. This goes on sometimes for a year or longer if the young woman has not made up her mind. She is never forced by her parents to marry against her wishes.”

Courtship among the Nishinam Indians of California is thus described by Powers (317):

“The Nishinam may be said to set up and dissolve the conjugal estate almost as easily as do the brute beasts. No stipulated payment is made for the wife. A man seeking to become a son-in-law is bound to cater (ye-lin) or make presents to the family, which is to say, he will come along some day with a deer on his shoulder, perhaps fling it off on the ground before the wigwam, and go his way without a single word being spoken. Some days later he may bring along a brace of hare or a ham of grizzly-bear meat, or some fish, or a string of ha-wok [shell money]. He continues to make these presents for awhile, and if he is not acceptable to the girl and her parents they return him an equivalent for each present (to return his gift would be grossly insulting); but if he finds favor in her eyes they are quietly appropriated, and in due course of time he comes and leads her away, or comes to live at her house.”

Belden remarks (301) that a Sioux seldom gets the girl he wants to marry to love him. He simply buys her of her parents, and as for the girl, after being informed that she has been sold

“she immediately packs up her little keepsakes and trinkets, and without exhibiting any emotion, such as is common to white girls, leaves her home, and goes to the lodge of her master,”

where she is henceforth his wife and “willing slave.” Among the Blackfoot Indians, too, there was apparently no form of courtship, and young men seldom spoke to girls unless they were relatives. (Grinnell, 216.) It was a common thing among these Indians for a youth and a girl not to know about each other until they were informed of their impending marriage.

The Araucanian maidens of Chili are disposed of with even less ceremony. In the choice of husbands, as we have seen, they have no more freedom than a Circassian slave. Our informant (E.R. Smith, 214) adds, however, that attachments do sometimes spring up, and, though the lovers have little opportunity to communicate freely, they resort occasionally to amatory songs, tender glances, and other tricks which lovers understand. “Matrimony may follow, but such a preliminary courtship is by no means considered necessary.” When a man wants a girl he calls on her father with his friends. While the friends talk with the parent, he seizes the bride

“by the hair or by the heel, as may be most convenient, and drags her along the ground to the open door. Once fairly outside, he springs to the saddle, still firmly grasping his screaming captive, whom he pulls up over the horse’s back, and yelling forth a whoop of triumph, he starts off at full gallop.... Gaining the woods, the lover dashes into the tangled thickets, while the friends considerately pause upon the outskirts until the screams of the bride have died away.”

A day or two later the couple emerge from the forest and without further ceremony live as man and wife. This is the usual way; but sometimes

“a man meets a girl in the fields alone, and far away from home; a sudden desire to better his solitary condition seizes him, and without further ado he rides up, lays violent hands upon the damsel and carries her off. Again, at their feasts and merrymakings (in which the women are kept somewhat aloof from the men), a young man may be smitten with a sudden passion, or be emboldened by wine to express a long slumbering preference for a dusky maid; his sighs and amorous glances will perhaps be returned, and rushing among the unsuspecting females, he will bear away the object of his choice while yet she is in the melting mood. When such an attempt is foreseen the unmarried girls form a ring around their companion, and endeavor to shield her; but the lover and his friends, by well-directed attacks, at length succeed in breaking through the magic circle, and drag away the damsel in triumph; perhaps, in the excitement of the game, some of her defenders too may share her fate.”

A Patagonian courtship is amusingly described by Bourne (91). The chief of the tribe that held him a captive several months would not allow anyone to marry without his consent. In his opinion

“no Indian who was not an accomplished rogue particularly in the horse-stealing line an expert hunter, able to provide plenty of meat and grease, was fit to have a wife on any conditions.”

One day a suitor appeared for the hand of the chief’s own daughter, a quasi-widow, but the chief repulsed him because he had no horses. As a last resort the suitor appealed to the young woman herself, promising, if she favored him, that he would give her plenty of grease. This grease argument she was unable to resist, so she entreated her father to give his consent. At this he broke out in a towering passion, threw cradle and other chattels out of the door and ordered her to follow at once. The girl’s mother now interceded, whereupon “seizing her by the hair, he hurled her violently to the ground and beat her with his clenched fists till I thought he would break every bone in her body.” The next morning, however, he went to the lodge of the newly married couple, made up, and they returned, bag and baggage, to his tent.

Grease appears to play a rôle in the courtship of northern Indians too. Leland relates (40) that the Algonquins make sausages from the entrails of bears by simply turning them inside out, the fat which clings to the outside of the entrails filling them when they are thus turned. These sausages, dried and smoked, are considered a great delicacy. The girls show their love by casting a string of them round the neck of the favored youth.

PANTOMIMIC LOVE-MAKING

It is noticeable in the foregoing accounts that courtship and even proposal are apt to be by pantomime, without any spoken words. The young Piute who visits his girl while she is in bed with her grandmother “does not speak to her.” The Nishinam hunter leaves his presents and they are accepted “without a word being spoken;” and the Apaches, as we saw, “pop the question” with stones or ponies. Why this silent courtship? Obviously because the Indian is not used to playing so humble a rôle as that of suitor to so inferior a being as a woman. He feels awkward, and has nothing to say. As Burton has remarked (C.S., 144), “in savage and semi-barbarous societies the separation of the sexes is the general rule, because, as they have no ideas in common, each prefers the society of its own.” “Between the sexes,” wrote Morgan (322)

“there was but little sociality, as this term is understood in polished society. Such a thing as formal visiting was entirely unknown. When the unmarried of opposite sexes were casually brought together there was little or no conversation between them. No attempts by the unmarried to please or gratify each other by acts of personal attention were ever made. At the season of councils and religious festivals there was more of actual intercourse and sociality than at any other time; but this was confined to the dance and was in itself limited.”

HONEYMOON

It is needless to say that where there is no mental intercourse there can be no choice and union of souls, but only of bodies; that is, there can be no sentimental love. The honeymoon, where there is one, is in this respect no better than the period of courtship. Parkman gives this realistic sketch from life among the Ogallalla Indians (O.T., ch. XI.):

“The happy pair had just entered upon the honeymoon. They would stretch a buffalo robe upon poles, so as to protect them from the fierce rays of the sun, and, spreading beneath this rough canopy a luxuriant couch of furs, would sit affectionately side by side for half a day, though I could not discover that much conversation passed between them. Probably they had nothing to say; for an Indian’s supply of topics is far from being copious.”

MUSIC IN INDIAN COURTSHIP

Inasmuch as music is said to begin where words end, we might expect it to play a rôle in the taciturn courtship of Indians. One of the maidens described by Mrs. Eastman (85) “had many lovers, who wore themselves out playing the flute, to as little purpose as they braided their hair and painted their faces,” Gila Indians court and pop the question with their flutes, according to the description by Bancroft (I., 549):

“When a young man sees a girl whom he desires for a wife he first endeavors to gain the good-will of the parents; this accomplished, he proceeds to serenade his lady-love, and will often sit for hours, day after day, near her house playing on his flute. Should the girl not appear, it is a sign that she rejects him; but if, on the other hand, she comes out to meet him, he knows that his suit is accepted, and he takes her to his house. No marriage ceremony is performed.”

In Chili, among the Araucanians, every lover carries with him an amatory Jew’s-harp, which is played almost entirely by inhaling. According to Smith

“they have ways of expressing various emotions by different modes of playing, all of which the Araucanian damsels seem fully to appreciate, although I must confess that I could not.

“The lover usually seats himself at a distance from the object of his passion, and gives vent to his feeling in doleful sounds, indicating the maiden of his choice by slyly gesturing, winking, and rolling his eyes toward her. This style of courtship is certainly sentimental and might be recommended to some more civilized lovers who always lose the use of their tongues at the very time it is most needed.”

“Sentimental” in one sense of the word, but not in the sense in which it is used in this book. There is nothing in winking, rolling the eyes, and playing the Jew’s-harp, either by inhalation or exhalation, to indicate whether the youth’s feelings toward the girl are refined, sympathetic, and devoted, or whether he merely longs for an amorous intrigue. That these Indian lovers may convey definite ideas to the minds of the girls is quite possible. Even birds have their love-calls, and savages in all parts of the world use “leading motives” a la Wagner, i.e., musical phrases with a definite meaning.

Chippewayan medicine men make use of music-boards adorned with drawings which recall special magic formulae to their minds. On one of these (Schoolcraft, V., 648) there is the figure of a young man in the frenzy of love. His head is adorned with feathers, and he has a drum in hand which he beats while crying to his absent love: “Hear my drum! Though you be at the uttermost parts of the earth, hear my drum!”

“The flageolet is the musical instrument of young men and is principally used in love-affairs to attract the attention of the maiden and reveal the presence of the lover,” says Miss Alice Fletcher, who has written some entertaining and valuable treatises on Indian music and love-songs. Mirrors, too, are used to attract the attention of girls, as appears from a charming idyl sketched by Miss Fletcher, which I will reproduce here, somewhat condensed.

One day, while dwelling with the Omahas, Miss Fletcher was wandering in quest of spring flowers near a creek when she was arrested by a sudden flash of light among the branches. “Some young man is near,” she thought, “signalling with his mirror to a friend or sweetheart.” She had hardly seen a young fellow who did not carry a looking-glass dangling at his side. The flashing signal was soon followed by the wild cadences of a flute. In a few moments the girls came in sight, with merry faces, chatting gayly. Each one carried a bucket. Down the hill, on the other side of the brook, advanced two young men, their gay blankets hanging from one shoulder. The girls dipped their pails in the stream and turned to leave when one of the young men jumped across the creek and confronted one of the girls, her companion walking away some distance. The lovers stood three feet apart, she with downcast face, he evidently pleading his cause to not unwilling ears. By and by she drew from her belt a package containing a necklace, which she gave to the young man, who took it shyly from her hands. A moment later the girl had joined her friend, and the man recrossed the brook, where he and his friend flung themselves on the grass and examined the necklace. Then they rose to go. Again the flute was heard gradually dying away in the distance.

INDIAN LOVE-POEMS

As it is not customary for an Indian to call at the lodge where a girl lives, about the only chance an Omaha has to woo is at the creek where the girl fetches water, as in the above idyl. Hence courting is always done in secret, the girls never telling the elders, though they may compare notes with each other.

“Generally an honorable courtship ends in a more or less speedy elopement and marriage, but there are men and women who prefer dalliance, and it is this class that furnishes the heroes and heroines of the Wa-oo-wa-an.”

These Wa-oo-wa-an, or woman songs, are a sort of ballad relating the experiences of young men and women. “They are sung by young men when in each other’s company, and are seldom overheard by women, almost never by women of high character;” they “belong to that season in a man’s career when ‘wild oats’ are said to be sown.” Some of them are vulgar, others humorous.

“They are in no sense love-songs, they have nothing to do with courtship, and are reserved for the exclusive audience of men.” “The true love-song, called by the Omahas Bethae wa-an ... is sung generally in the early morning, when the lover is keeping his tryst and watching for the maiden to emerge from the tent and go to the spring. They belong to the secret courtship, and are sometimes called Me-the-g’thun wa-an courting songs.” “The few words in these songs convey the one poetic sentiment: ‘With the day I come to you;’ or ‘Behold me as the day dawns.’ Few unprejudiced listeners,” the writer adds, “will fail to recognize in the Bethae wa-an, or love-songs, the emotion and the sentiment that prompts a man to woo the woman of his choice.”

Miss Fletcher is easily satisfied. For my part I cannot see in a tune, however rapturously sung or fluted, or in the words “with the day I come to you” and the like any sign of real sentiment or the faintest symptom differentiating the two kinds of love. Moreover, as Miss Fletcher herself remarks:

“The Omahas as a tribe have ceased to exist. The young men and women are being educated in English speech, and imbued with English thought; their directive emotion will hereafter take the lines of our artistic forms.”

Even if traces of sexual sentiment were to be found among Indians like the Ornahas, who have been subjected for some generations to civilizing influences, they would allow no inference as to the love-affairs of the real, wild Indian.

Miss Fletcher makes the same error as Professor Fillmore, who assisted her in writing A Study of Omaha Indian Music. He took the wild Indian tunes and harnessed them to modern German harmonies a procedure as unscientific as it would be unhistoric to make Cicero record his speeches in a phonograph. Miss Fletcher takes simple Indian songs and reads into them the feelings of a New York or Boston woman. The following is an instance. A girl sings to a warrior (I give only Miss Fletcher’s translation, omitting the Indian words): “War; when you returned; die; you caused me; go when you did; God; I appealed; standing,” This literal version our author explains and translates freely, as follows:

“N is the confession of a woman to the man she loves, that he had conquered her heart before he had achieved a valorous reputation. The song opens upon the scene. The warrior had returned victorious and passed through the rites of the Tent of War, so he is entitled to wear his honors publicly; the woman tells him how, when he started on the war-path, she went up on the hill and standing there cried to Wa-kan-da to grant him success. He who had now won that success had even then vanquished her heart, ‘had caused her to die’ to all else but the thought of him"(!)

Another instance of this emotional embroidery may be found on pages 15-17 of the same treatise. What makes this procedure the more inexplicable is that both these songs are classed by Miss Fletcher among the Wa-oo-wa-an or “woman songs,” concerning which she has told us that “they are in no sense love-songs,” and that usually they are not even the effusions of a woman’s own feelings, but the compositions of frivolous and vain young men put into the mouth of wanton women. The honorable secret courtships were never talked of or sung about.

Regarding the musical and poetic features of Dakota courtship, S.R. Riggs has this to say (209):

“A boy begins to feel the drawing of the other sex and, like the ancient Roman boys, he exercises his ingenuity in making a ‘cotanke,’ or rude pipe, from the bone of a swan’s wing, or from some species of wood, and with that he begins to call to his lady-love, on the night air. Having gained attention by his flute, he may sing this:

Stealthily, secretly, see me,
Stealthily, secretly, see me,
Stealthily, secretly, see me,
Lo! thee I tenderly regard;
Stealthily, secretly, see me.”

Or he may commend his good qualities as a hunter by singing this song:

Cling fast to me, and you’ll ever have plenty,
Cling fast to me, and you’ll ever have plenty,
Cling fast to me....”

“A Dacota girl soon learns to adorn her fingers with rings, her ears with tin dangles, her neck with beads. Perhaps an admirer gives her a ring, singing:

Wear this, I say;
Wear this, I say;
Wear this, I say;
This little finger ring,
Wear this, I say.”

For traces of real amorous sentiment one would naturally look to the poems of the semi-civilized Mexicans and Peruvians of the South rather than to the savage and barbarous Indians of the North. Dr. Brinton (E. of A., 297) has found the Mexican songs the most delicate. He quotes two Aztec love-poems, the first being from the lips of an Indian girl:

I know not whether thou hast been absent:
I lie down with thee, I rise up with thee,
In my dreams thou art with me.
If my ear-drop trembles in my ears,
I know it is thou moving within my heart.

The second, from the same language, is thus rendered:

On a certain mountain side,
Where they pluck flowers,
I saw a pretty maiden,
Who plucked from me my heart,
Whither thou goest,
There go I.

Dr. Brinton also quotes the following poem of the Northern Kioways as “a song of true love in the ordinary sense:”

I sat and wept on the hillside,
I wept till the darkness fell;
I wept for a maiden afar off,
A maiden who loves me well.

The moons are passing, and some moon,
I shall see my home long-lost,
And of all the greetings that meet me,
My maiden’s will gladden me most.

“The poetry of the Indians is the poetry of naked thought. They have neither rhyme nor metre to adorn it,” says Schoolcraft (Oneota, 14). The preceding poem has both; what guarantee is there that the translator has not embellished the substance of it as he did its form? Yet, granting he did not embroider the substance, we know that weeping and longing for an absent one are symptoms of sensual as well as of sentimental love, and cannot, therefore, be accepted as a criterion. As for the Mexican and other poems cited, they give evidence of a desire to be near the beloved, and of the all-absorbing power of passion (monopoly) which likewise are characteristic of both kinds of love. Of the true criteria of love, the altruistic sentiments of gallantry, self-sacrifice, sympathy, adoration, there is no sign in any of these poems. Dr. Brinton admits, too, that such poems as the above are rare among the North American Indians anywhere.

“Most of their chants in relation to the other sex are erotic, not emotional; and this holds equally true of those which in some tribes on certain occasions are addressed by the women to the men.”

Powers says (235) that the Wintun of California have a special dance and celebration when a girl reaches the age of puberty. The songs sung on this occasion “sometimes are grossly licentious.” Evidences of this sort might be supplied by the page.

An interesting collection of erotic songs sung by the Klamath Indians of Southern Oregon has been made by A.S. Gatschet. “With the Indians,” he says,

“all these and many other erotic songs pass under the name of puberty songs. They include lines on courting, love-sentiments, disappointments in love, marriage fees paid to the parents, on marrying and on conjugal life.”

From this collection I will cite those that are pertinent to our inquiry. Observe that usually it is the girl that sings or does the courting.

1. I have passed into womanhood.

3. Who comes there riding toward me?

4. My little pigeon, fly right into the dovecot!

5. This way follow me before it is full daylight.

9. I want to wed you for you are a chief’s son.

7. Very much I covet you as a husband, for in times to come you
will live in affluence.

8. She: And when will you pay for me a wedding gift?
He: A canoe I’ll give for you half filled with water.

9. He spends much money on women, thinking to obtain them
easily.

11. It is not that black fellow that I am striving to secure.

14. That is a pretty female that follows me up.

16. That’s because you love me that rattle around the lodge.

27. Why have you become so estranged to me?

37. I hold you to be an innocent girl, though I have not lived
with you yet.

38. Over and over they tell me,
That this scoundrel has insulted me.

52. Young chaps tramp around;
They are on the lookout for women.

54. Girls: Young man, I will not love you, for you run around
with no blanket on; I do not desire such a husband.
Boys: And I do not like a frog-shaped woman with swollen
eyes.

Most of these poems, as I have said, were composed and sung by women. The same is true of a collection of Chinook songs (Northern Oregon and adjacent country) made by Dr. Boas. The majority of his poems, he says, “are songs of love and jealousy, such as are made by Indian women living in the cities, or by rejected lovers.” These songs are rather pointless, and do not tell us much about the subject of our inquiry. Here are a few samples:

1. Yaya,
When you take a wife,
Yaya,
Don’t become angry with me.
I do not care.

2. Where is Charlie going now?
Where is Charlie going now?
He comes back to see me,
I think.

3. Good-by, oh, my dear Charlie!
When you take a wife
Don’t forget me.

4. I don’t know how I feel
Toward Johnny.
That young man makes a foe of me.

5. My dear Annie,
If you cast off Jimmy Star,
Do not forget
How much he likes
You.

Of much greater interest are the “Songs of the Kwakiutl Indians,” of Vancouver Island, collected by Dr. Boas. One of them is too obscene to quote. The following lines evidence a pretty poetic fancy, suggesting New Zealand poetry:

1. Y[=i]! Yawa, wish I could and make my true love happy,
haigia, hay[=i]a.

Y[=i]! Yawa, wish I could arise from under the ground right
next to my true love, haigia hay[=i]a.

Y[=i]! Yawa, wish I could alight from the heights, from the
heights of the air right next to my true love, haigia,
hay[=i]a.

Y[=i]! Yawa, wish I could sit among the clouds and fly with
them to my true love.

Y[=i]! Yawa, I am downcast on account of my true love.

Y[=i]! Yawa, I cry for pain on account of my true love, my
dear.

Dr. Boas confesses that this song is somewhat freely translated. The more’s the pity. An expression like “my true love,” surely is utterly un-Indian.

2. An[=a]ma! Indeed my strong-hearted, my dear.
An[=a]ma! Indeed, my strong hearted, my dear.
An[=a]ma! Indeed my truth toward my dear.
Not pretend I I know having master my dear.
Not pretend I I know for whom I am gathering property, my
dear.
Not pretend I I know for whom I am gathering blankets, my
dear.

3. Like pain of fire runs down my body my love to you, my dear!
Like pain runs down my body my love to you, my dear.
Just as sickness is my love to you, my dear.
Just as a boil pains me my love to you, my dear.
Just as a fire burns me my love to you, my dear.
I am thinking of what you said to me
I am thinking of the love you bear me.
I am afraid of your love, my dear.
O pain! O pain!
Oh, where is my true love going, my dear?
Oh, they say she will be taken away far from here. She will
leave me, my true love, my dear.
My body feels numb on account of what I have said, my true
love, my dear.
Good-by, my true love, my dear.

MORE LOVE-STORIES

Apart from “free translations” and embellishments, the great difficulty with poems like these, taken down at the present day, is that one never knows, though they may be told by a pure Indian, how far they may have been influenced by the half-breeds or the missionaries who have been with these Indians, in some cases for many generations. The same is true of not a few of the stories attributed to Indians.

Powers had heard among other “Indian” tales one of a lover’s leap, and another of a Mono maiden who loved an Awani brave and was imprisoned by her cruel father in a cave until she perished. “But,” says Powers (368), “neither Choko nor any other Indian could give me any information touching them, and Choko dismissed them all with the contemptuous remark, ‘White man too much lie.’” I have shown in this chapter how large is the number of white men who “too much lie” in attributing to Indians stories, thoughts, and feelings, which no Indian ever dreamt of.

The genuine traditional literature of the Indians consists, as Powers remarks (408), almost entirely of petty fables about animals, and there is an almost total lack of human legends. Some there are, and a few of them are quite pretty. Powers relates one (299) which may well be Indian, the only suspicious feature being the reference to a “beautiful” cloud (for Indians know only the utility, not the charm, of nature).

“One day, as the sun was setting, Kiunaddissi’s daughter went out and saw a beautiful red cloud, the most lovely cloud ever seen, resting like a bar along the horizon, stretching southward. She cried out to her father, ’O father, come and see this beautiful [bright?] cloud!’ He did so.... Next day the daughter took a basket and went out into the plain to gather clover to eat. While picking the clover she found a very pretty arrow, trimmed with yellow-hammer’s feathers. After gazing at it awhile in wonder she turned to look at her basket, and there beside it stood a man who was called Yang-wi’-a-kan-ueh (Red Cloud) who was none other than the cloud she had seen the day before. He was so bright and resplendent to look upon that she was abashed; she modestly hung down her head and uttered not a word. But he said to her, ’I am not a stranger. You saw me last night; you see me every night when the sun is setting. I love you; you love me; look at me; be not afraid.’ Then she said, ’If you love me, take and eat this basket of grass-seed pinole.’ He touched the basket and in an instant all the pinole vanished in the air, going no man knows whither. Thereupon the girl fell away in a swoon, and lay a considerable time there upon the ground. But when the man returned to her behold she had given birth to a son. And the girl was abashed, and would not look in his face, but she was full of joy because of her new-born son.”

The Indian’s anthropomorphic way of looking at nature (instead of the esthetic or scientific, both of which are as much beyond his mental capacity as the faculty for sentimental love) is also illustrated by the following Dakota tale, showing how two girls got married.

“There were two women lying out of doors and looking up to the shining stars. One of them said to the other, ’I wish that very large and bright shining star was my husband,’ The other said, ’I wish that star that shines so brightly were my husband.’ Thereupon they both were immediately taken up. They found themselves in a beautiful country, which was full of twin flowers. They found that the star which shone most brightly was a large man, while the other was only a young man. So they each had a husband, and one became with child.”

Fear and superstition are, as we know, among the obstacles which prevent an Indian from appreciating the beauties of nature. The story of the Yurok siren, as related by Powers (59), illustrates this point:

“There is a certain tract of country on the north side of the Klamath River which nothing can induce an Indian to enter. They say that there is a beautiful squaw living there whose fascinations are fatal. When an Indian sees her he straightway falls desperately in love. She decoys him farther and farther into the forest, until at last she climbs a tree and the man follows. She now changes into a panther and kills him; then, resuming her proper form, she cuts off his head and places it in a basket. She is now, they say, a thousand years old, and has an Indian’s head for every year of her life.”

Such tales as these may well have originated in an Indian’s imagination. Their local color is correct and charming, and they do not attribute to a savage notions and emotions foreign to his mind and customs.

“WHITE MAN TOO MUCH LIE”

It is otherwise with a class of Indian tales of which Schoolcraft’s are samples, and a few more of which may here be referred to. With the unquestioning trust of a child the learned Waitz accepts as a specimen of genuine romantic love a story of an Indian maiden who, when an arrow was aimed at her lover’s heart, sprang before him and received the barbed shaft in her own heart; and another of a Creek Indian who jumped into a cataract with the girl he loved, meeting death with her when he found he could not escape the tomahawk of the pursuers. The solid facts of the first story will be hinted at presently in speaking of Pocahontas; and as for the second story it is, reduced to Indian realism, simply an incident of an elopement and pursuit such as may have easily happened, though the motive of the elopement was nothing more than the usual desire to avoid paying for the girl. Such sentences as “she loved him with an intensity of passion that only the noblest souls know,” and “they vowed eternal love; they vowed to live and die with each other,” ought to have opened Waitz’s eyes to the fact that he was not reading an actual Indian story, but a story sentimentalized and embellished in the cheapest modern dime-novel style. The only thing such stories tell us is that “white man too much lie.”

White woman, too, is not always above suspicion. Mrs. Eastman assures us that she got her Sioux legends from the Indians themselves. One of these stories is entitled “The Track Maker” (122-23). During an interval of peace between the Chippewas and Dakotas, she relates, a party of Chippewas visited a camp of the Dakotas. A young Dakota warrior fell in love with a girl included in the Chippewa party. “Though he would have died to save her from sorrow, yet he knew that she could never be his wife,” for the tribes were ever at war. Here Mrs. Eastman, with the recklessness of a newspaper reporter, puts into an Indian’s head a sentiment which no Indian ever dreamt of. All the facts cited in this chapter prove this, and, moreover, the sequel of her own story proves it. After exchanging vows of love (!) with the Dakotan brave, the girl departed with her Chippewa friends. Shortly afterward two Dakotas were murdered. The Chippewas were suspected, and a party of warriors at once broke up in pursuit of the innocent and unsuspecting party. The girl, whose name was Flying Shadow, saw her lover among the pursuers, who had already commenced to slaughter and scalp the other women, though the maidens clasped their hands in a “vain appeal to the merciless wretches, who see neither beauty nor grace when rage and revenge are in their hearts.” Throwing herself in his arms she cried, “Save me! save me! Do not let them slay me before your eyes; make me your prisoner! You said that you loved me, spare my life!” He did spare her life; he simply touched her with his spear, then passed on, and a moment later the girl was slain and scalped by his companions. And why did the gallant and self-sacrificing lover touch her with his spear before he left her to be murdered? Because touching an enemy male or female with his spear entitles the noble red man to wear a feather of honor as if he had taken a scalp! Yet he “would have died to save her from sorrow”!

An Indian’s capacity for self-sacrifice is also revealed in a favorite Blackfoot tale recorded by Grinnell (39-42). A squaw was picking berries in a place rendered dangerous by the proximity of the enemy. Suddenly her husband, who was on guard, saw a war party approaching. Signalling to the squaw, they mounted their horses and took to flight. The wife’s horse, not being a good one, soon tired out and the husband had to take her on his. But this was too much of a load even for his powerful animal. The enemy gained on them constantly. Presently he said to his wife: “Get off. The enemy will not kill you. You are too young and pretty. Some one of them will take you, and I will get a big party of our people and rescue you.” But the woman cried “No, no, I will die here with you.” “Crazy person,” cried the man, and with a quick jerk he threw the woman off and escaped. Having reached the lodge safely, he painted himself black and “walked all through the camp crying.” Poor fellow! How he loved his wife! The Indian, as Catlin truly remarked, “is not in the least behind us in conjugal affection.” The only difference a trifling one to be sure is that a white man, under such circumstances, would have spilt his last drop of blood in defence of his wife’s life and her honor.

THE STORY OF POCAHONTAS

The rescue of John Smith by Pocahontas is commonly held to prove that the young Indian girl, smitten with sudden love for the white man, risked her life for him. This fanciful notion has however, been irreparably damaged by John Fiske (O.V., I., 102-111). It is true that “the Indians debated together, and presently two big stones were placed before the chiefs, and Smith was dragged thither and his head laid upon them;” and that

“even while warriors were standing with clubs in hand, to beat his brains out, the chief’s young daughter Pocahontas rushed up and embraced him, whereupon her father spared his life.”

It is true also that Smith himself thought and wrote that “Pocahontas hazarded the beating out of her own brains to save” his. But she did no such thing. Smith simply was ignorant of Indian customs:

“From the Indian point of view there was nothing romantic or extraordinary in such a rescue: it was simply a not uncommon matter of business. The romance with which readers have always invested it is the outcome of a misconception no less complete than that which led the fair dames of London to make obeisance to the tawny Pocahontas as to a princess of imperial lineage. Time and again it used to happen that when a prisoner was about to be slaughtered some one of the dusky assemblage, moved by pity or admiration or some unexplained freak, would interpose in behalf of the victim; and as a rule such interposition was heeded. Many a poor wretch, already tied to the fatal tree and benumbed with unspeakable terror, while the firebrands were heating for his torment, has been rescued from the jaws of death and adopted as brother or lover by some laughing young squaw, or as a son by some grave wrinkled warrior. In such cases the new-comer was allowed entire freedom and treated like one of the tribe.... Pocahontas, therefore, did not hazard the beating out of her own brains, though the rescued stranger, looking with civilized eyes, would naturally see it in that light. Her brains were perfectly safe. This thirteen-year-old squaw liked the handsome prisoner, claimed him, and got him, according to custom.”

VERDICT: NO ROMANTIC LOVE

In the hundreds of genuine Indian tales collected by Boas I have not discovered a trace of sentiment, or even of sentimentality. The notion that there is any refinement of passion or morality in the sexual relations of the American aborigines has been fostered chiefly by the stories and poems of the whites generally such as had only a superficial acquaintance with the red men. “The less we see and know of real Indians,” wrote G.E. Ellis (111), “the easier will it be to make and read poems about them.” General Custer comments on Cooper’s false estimate of Indian character, which has misled so many.

“Stripped of the beautiful romance with which we have been so long willing to envelop him, transferred from the inviting pages of the novelist to the localities where we are compelled to meet with him in his native village, on the warpath, and when raiding upon our frontier settlements and lines of travel, the Indian forfeits his claim to the appellation of the ‘noble red man’” (12).

The great explorer Stanley did not see as much of the American savage as of the African, yet he had no difficulty in taking the American’s correct measure. In his Early Travels and Adventures (41-43), he pokes fun at the romantic ideas that poets and novelists have given about Indian maidens and their loves, and then tells in unadorned terms what he saw with his own eyes Indian girls with “coarse black hair, low foreheads, blazing coal-black eyes, faces of a dirty, greasy color” and the Indian young man whose romance of wooing is comprised in the question, “How much is she worth?’”

One of the keenest and most careful observers of Indian life, the naturalist Bates, after living several years among the natives of Brazil, wrote concerning them (293):

“Their phlegmatic, apathetic temperament; coldness of desire and deadness of feeling; want of curiosity and slowness of intellect, make the Amazonian Indians very uninteresting companions anywhere. Their imagination is of a dull-gloomy quality, and they seemed never to be stirred by the emotions love, pity, admiration, fear, wonder, joy, enthusiasm. These are characteristics of the whole race,”

In Schoolcraft (V., 272) we read regarding the Creeks that “the refined passion of love is unknown to any of them, although they apply the word love to rum or anything else they wish to be possessed of.” A capital definition of Indian love! I have already quoted the opinion of the eminent expert George Gibbs that the attachment existing among the Indians of Oregon and Washington, though it is sometimes so strong as to lead to suicide, is too sensual to deserve the name of love. Another eminent traveller, Keating, says (II., 158) concerning the Chippewas:

“We are not disposed to believe that there is frequently among the Chippewas an inclination entirely destitute of sensual considerations and partaking of the nature of a sentiment; such may exist in a few instances, but in their state of society it appears almost impossible that it should be a common occurrence.”

M’Lean, after living for twenty-five years among Indians, says, in writing of the Nascopies (II., 127):

“Considering the manner in which their women are treated it can scarcely be supposed that their courtships are much influenced by sentiments of love; in fact, the tender passion seems unknown to the savage breast.”

From his observations of Canadian Indians Heriot came to the conclusion (324) that “The passion of love is of too delicate a nature to admit of divided affections, and its real influence can scarcely be felt in a society where polygamy is tolerated.” And again (331): “The passion of love, feeble unless aided by imagination, is of a nature too refined to acquire a great degree of influence over the mind of savages.” He thinks that their mode of life deadens even the physical ardor for the sex, but adds that the females appear to be “much more sensible of tender impressions.” Even Schoolcraft admits implicitly that Indian love cannot have been sentimental and esthetic, but only sensual, when he says (Travels, etc., 231) that Indian women are “without either mental resources or personal beauty.”

But the most valuable and weighty evidence on this point is supplied by Lewis A. Morgan in his classical book, The League of the Iroquois (320-35). He was an adopted member of the Sénecas, among whom he spent nearly forty years of his life, thus having unequalled opportunities for observation and study. He was moreover a man of scientific training and a thinker, whose contributions to some branches of anthropology are of exceptional value. His bias, moreover, is rather in favor of the Indians than against them, which doubles the weight of his testimony. This testimony has already been cited in part, but in summing up the subject I will repeat it with more detail. He tells us that marriage among these Indians “was not founded on the affections ... but was regulated exclusively as a matter of physical necessity.” The match was made by the mothers, and

“not the least singular feature of the transaction was the entire ignorance in which the parties remained of the pending negotiations; the first intimation they received being the announcement of their marriage without, perhaps, ever having known or seen each other. Remonstrance or objections on their part was never attempted; they received each other as the gift of their parents.”

There was no visiting or courting, little or no conversation between the unmarried, no attempts were made to please each other, and the man regarded the woman as his inferior and servant. The result of such a state of affairs is summed up by Morgan in this memorable passage:

“From the nature of the marriage institution among the Iroquois it follows that the passion of love was entirely unknown among them. Affections after marriage would naturally spring up between the parties from association, from habit, and from mutual dependence; but of that marvellous passion which originates in a higher development of the passions of the human heart and is founded upon the cultivation of the affections between the sexes they were entirely ignorant. In their temperaments they were below this passion in its simplest forms. Attachments between individuals, or the cultivation of each other’s affections before marriage, was entirely unknown; so also were promises of marriage.”

Morgan regrets that his remarks “may perhaps divest the mind of some pleasing impressions” created by novelists and poets concerning the attachments which spring up in the bosom of Indian society; but these, he adds, are “entirely inconsistent with the marriage institution as it existed among them, and with the facts of their social history.” I may add that another careful observer who had lived among the Indians, Parkman, cites Morgan’s remarks as to their incapacity for love with approval.

There is one more important conclusion to be drawn from Morgan’s evidence. The Iroquois were among the most advanced of all Indians. “In intelligence,” says Brinton (A.R., 82), “their position must be placed among the highest.” As early as the middle of the fifteenth century the great chief Hiawatha completed the famous political league of the Iroquois. The women, though regarded as inferiors, had more power and authority than among most other Indians. Morgan speaks of the “unparallelled generosity” of the Iroquois, of their love of truth, their strict adherence to the faith of treaties, their ignorance of theft, their severe punishment for the infrequent crimes and offences that occurred among them. The account he gives of their various festivals, their eloquence, their devout religious feeling and gratitude to the Great Spirit for favors received, the thanks addressed to the earth, the rivers, the useful herbs, the moving wind which banishes disease, the sun, moon, and stars for the light they give, shows them to be far superior to most of the red men. And yet they were “below the passion of love in its simplest forms.” Thus we see once more that refinement of sexual feeling, far from being, as the sentimentalists would have us believe, shared with us by the lowest savages, is in reality one of the latest products of civilization if not the very latest.

THE UNLOVING ESKIMO

Throughout this chapter no reference has been made to the Eskimos, who are popularly considered a race apart from the Indians. The best authorities now believe that they are a strictly American race, whose primal home was to the south of the Hudson Bay, whence they spread northward to Labrador, Greenland, and Alaska. I have reserved them for separate consideration because they admirably illustrate the grand truth just formulated, that a race may have made considerable progress in some directions and yet be quite below the sentiment of love. Westermarck’s opinion (516) that the Eskimos are “a rather advanced race” is borne out by the testimony of those who have known them well. They are described as singularly cheerful and good-natured among themselves. Hall says “their memory is remarkably good, and their intellectual powers, in all that relates to their native land, its inhabitants, its coasts, and interior parts, is of a surprisingly high order” (I., 128). But what is of particular interest is the great aptitude Eskimos seem to show for art, and their fondness for poetry and music. King says that “the art of carving is universally practised” by them, and he speaks of their models of men, animals, and utensils as “executed in a masterly style.” Brinton indeed says they have a more artistic eye for picture-writing than any Indian race north of Mexico. They enliven their long winter nights with imaginative tales, music, and song. Their poets are held in high honor, and it is said they get their notion of the music of verse by sleeping by the sound of running water, that they may catch its mysterious notes.

Yet when we look at the Eskimos from another point of view we find them horribly and bestially unaesthetic. Cranz speaks of “their filthy clothes swarming with vermin.” They make their oil by chewing seal blubber and spurting the liquid into a vessel. “A kettle is seldom washed except the dogs chance to lick it clean.” Mothers wash children’s faces by licking them all over.

Such utter lack of delicacy prepares us for the statement that the Eskimos are equally coarse in other respects, notably in their treatment of women and their sexual feelings. It would be a stigma upon an Eskimo’s character, says Cranz (I., 154), “if he so much as drew a seal out of the water.” Having performed the pleasantly exciting part of killing it, he leaves all the drudgery and hard work of hauling, butchering, cooking, tanning, shoe-making, etc., to the women. They build the houses, too, while the men look on with the greatest insensibility, not stirring a finger to assist them in carrying the heavy stones. Girls are often “engaged” as soon as born, nor are those who grow up free allowed to marry according to their own preference. “When friendly exhortations are unavailing she is compelled by force, and even blows, to receive her husband.” (Cranz, I., 146.) They consider children troublesome, and the race is dying out. Women are not allowed to eat of the first seal of the season. The sick are left to take care of themselves. (Hall, II., 322, I., 103.) In years of scarcity widows “are rejected from the community, and hover about the encampments like starving wolves ... until hunger and cold terminate their wretched existence.” (M’Lean, II., 143.) Men and women alike are without any sense of modesty; in their warm hovels both sexes divest themselves of nearly all their clothing. Nor, although they fight and punish jealousy, have they any regard for chastity per se. Lending a wife or daughter to a guest is a recognized duty of hospitality. Young couples live together on trial. When the husband is away hunting or fishing the wife has her intrigues, and often adultery is committed sans gene on either side. Unnatural vices are indulged in without secrecy, and altogether the picture is one of utter depravity and coarseness.

Under such circumstances we hardly needed the specific assurance of Rink, who collected and published a volume of Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo, and who says that “never is much room given in this poetry to the almost universal feeling of love.” He refers, of course, to any kind of love, and he puts it very mildly. Not only is there no trace of altruistic affection in any of these tales and traditions, but the few erotic stories recorded (e.g., pp. 236-37) are too coarse to be cited or summarized here. Hall, too, concluded that “love if it come at all comes after marriage.” He also informs us (II., 313) that there “generally exists between husband and wife a steady but not very demonstrative affection;” but here he evidently wrongs the Eskimos; for, as he himself remarks (126), they

“always summarily punish their wives for any real or imaginary offence. They seize the first thing at hand a stone, knife, hatchet, or spear and throw it at the offending woman, just as they would at their dogs.”

What could be more “demonstrative” than such “steady affection?”