Let Them Eat Grass: A Saga of the Sioux

By Betty Raymond Gubler

Let Them Eat Grass is a historical fiction concerning the tragedy of the Sioux Indians trying to save their land as well as the lives of their people. In 1858, Tianci, a Hunkpapa Sioux, participated in the annual dance-in-the-sun ceremony. In the vision he had, he saw a white buffalo that beckoned Tianci to follow him to the East where many White people had settled. Tianci travels to Chief Little Crow’s village in Minnesota where the situation between the Whites and the Indians is very fragile. Little Crow and his tribal members teach Tianci to speak the English language. Tianci marries Tacincadan, and they have a daughter, Kimama. Tianci is hired by Colonels Sibley and Barrett to be a guide. Visiting the Indian Agency, Tianci notices the corruption of the White agents selling the Indians’ food to other Whites. He warns the colonels about the situation that could lead to warfare. When Little Crow visits the Indian Agency and asks for the food promised to the Indians because of the land the Whites had claimed, Little Crow is told that there is no food for the Indians. When Little Crow asks what he should feed his people, Andrew Myrick mocks him, saying, “Let them eat grass or dung for all I care.” Warfare ensues. When soldiers under Colonel Barrett’s command accidentally kill Tacincadan and Kimama, Tianci desires to take revenge on Colonel Barrett. He captures Colonel Barrett’s two daughters as well as two soldiers. He releases the two soldiers and the older sister but keeps Charissa, claiming she will become his wife. Then he takes Charissa to Little Crow’s village. Much more unexpected drama follows. Let Them Eat Grass is based on historical research though some of the characters are fictional. Read this book to find out what happens to the main characters and to better understand the plight of not only the Sioux but most Native Americans in the treatment they received from the Whites.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781638443254

Book preview

Chapter 1

The White Buffalo

The year was 1858 according to the White man’s calendar. At an Indian encampment deep in the Teton Sioux country, eleven young men of about nineteen years of age were gathered in a sacred circle. In the middle of the circle was a sapling cottonwood tree that had been selected by four young warriors who had been instructed to find a tree that was straight and without blemish. Four young maidens known for their virtuous reputations had then struck the sapling with a hatchet, causing it to fall to the south at which time one of the young warriors had caught it before it hit the ground. This was the sacred dance-in-the-sun pole. The eleven youths, all of whom had participated in the purifying ceremony of the sweat lodge, had fasted in order to prepare themselves for their dance-in-the-sun.

Without flinching or crying out, they had stoically allowed long deep gashes to be made in their chests. Under the two-inch widths of skin between each cut, a rawhide thong had been inserted and tied tightly. Then the thongs tied into their chests had been attached to a larger rawhide thong hanging from the top of the cottonwood pole. The young men leaned back, straining against the thongs that held them securely. They danced and leaned, attempting to force the thongs to sever the skin of their chests and thus free themselves. While they danced, they gazed at the top of the cottonwood pole, their lips often moving in prayer. Have pity on me, Wakan-tanka. Accept the offering of my suffering. Some of the women who watched sang songs of encouragement. A holy woman, who had fasted for four days, stood nearby. She was so weak from fasting that she had to lean on a cane to support herself, but her presence and her words encouraged the young men to bear their suffering bravely.

One of the young men performing his dance-in-the-sun was Tianci, son of Tatanka-ohitika (Brave Buffalo), renowned dreamer of the white buffalo. Because of Tatanka-ohitika’s vision, the Sioux claimed that his must be strong medicine (power) and that he must be highly favored by Wakan-tanka. His son, Tianci, born in the middle-aged years of his parents’ lives and their only child, had been carefully reared. Hoping Tianci would also make a great name for himself among his people, his father had been both painstaking and thorough in the rearing of his son. Although Tianci’s mother had died during the past winter, she had secured a promise from him that he would participate in the annual dance-in-the-sun.

The smell of blood permeated the air. It flowed and congealed and flowed afresh as the young men strained against the thongs that held them. Tianci, feeling the warmth of the blood on his chest, could trace, without looking, the course of the blood as it flowed down his legs to his feet. As he danced, he prayed, I am glad, Wakan-tanka, to dance in the sun for you. I suffer that you might accept my gratitude for my life, and that the suffering of my people might be alleviated because of the pain I now suffer. Everything in the universe belongs to you. All I can offer you that I can claim is mine alone is my pain. Help me to understand the vision that came to me when I fasted in the sacred heights of Paha Sapa [the Black Hills].

Although the intensity of the pain made him feel faint, he forced his mind to concentrate on the time when he had gone on his vision quest. His father’s nephew, Tatanka-yotanka (Sitting Bull), who had already received his vision and danced in the sun, had accompanied him to the sacred Paha Sapa. However, he had made a temporary shelter beneath the Mount of Vision, allowing Tianci to ascend alone in search of his vision. The vision had not come to him immediately. Faint from fasting and lonely for companionship, he had almost given up after spending three days in the secluded place.

But on the fourth day, the vision, a white buffalo, had come. Thinking of his father’s joy, Tianci wept with gratitude. To his disappointment, however, the buffalo had not spoken to him. Rather, it studied him quietly. Speak, friend, for I listen, Tianci pleaded, but the buffalo turned to the East and vanished into a white mist. Famished but overjoyed that he had received a vision, Tianci gave thanks and then hurried down the mountain to the shelter where Tatanka-yotanka was anxiously waiting for his young friend. They met in warmth and silence. Seeing the grateful tears in Tianci’s eyes, Tatanka-yotanka knew without asking that Tianci had received his vision.

Although pain wracked his body, Tianci tried to concentrate on the white buffalo. Return to me, my friend, he prayed as he danced. Instruct me with the wisdom I’ll need to be worthy of having you as my helper. Regardless of the excruciating pain he was suffering, the buffalo did not reappear. Help me, Wakan-tanka, Tianci prayed as he gazed at the cottonwood pole and thought of its sacredness. When an upper limb of the cottonwood tree was cut crosswise, its grain revealed a five-pointed star that was perfectly formed. The star was put there by Wakan-tanka to remind the Sioux always of the greatness of his creation. All living things were sacred and must be treated accordingly. The branches of the cottonwood tree rustled in the slightest breeze as if offering their prayers to the great Wakan-tanka.

So overpowering was the pain, Tianci began to lose his sense of time. Often chanting or moving his lips in prayer, he prayed for deliverance. It seemed that the world had become a fireball of tortured red. As his mind became absorbed with the intensity of the pain he was suffering, he could hardly hear the constant throbbing of the drums or make out the forms of his father and his friends. Straining with all his might, he leaned back against the pull of the thongs in order to break free of them. Sweat bathed his body. For a while, he had the sensation that he was drowning, but the drowning sensation soon left. Raising his arms above his head, after a difficult struggle with his willpower, he prayed earnestly, Help me, Wakan-tanka! Still the flesh was too strong to split open and thus free the rawhide thongs.

Determined to win Wakan-tanka’s attention, he danced faster and more violently. Finally, the sensation of pain became sweet. Tianci! Tianci! he thought he heard someone calling. Tianci! Tianci! Was it the white buffalo? he wondered. Suddenly, his sense of smell seemed to intensify although he thought it came from somewhere other than his immediate surroundings. He could smell sage, sweet grass, and cedar, the aroma of which was sweetly pungent, a worthy offering for Wakan-tanka. He thought he heard the singing of birds, felt the cooling breezes of evening, and saw the rising of stars. Peace! Real or unreal, he did not know. The night of his growing trance deepened and the peace thickened.

Suddenly, he wrenched free of the thongs and fell unconscious to the ground. Peace! Darkness! Sleep! And then he felt himself being transported back to the sacred Paha Sapa where the white buffalo was waiting for him. As acquaintances of another time and another world, they gazed at each other respectfully and without speaking. And then, to Tianci’s amazement, a race of white-skinned people came forth from the side of the white buffalo. Their skin was as pale as the mist of the morning and their eyes were as blue as the noonday sky. The buffalo again turned toward the East but glanced back at Tianci with a look that beckoned him to follow. Then the buffalo and the people mysteriously disappeared.

Darkness returned, and Tianci rested deeply in it. He had never felt so tired before. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and found his father and Tatanka-yotanka kneeling beside him and gazing at him with somber dark eyes. Abruptly the sensation of pain returned, and he recalled his having danced in the sun. Realizing that he had wrenched himself free of the thongs, he smiled faintly with relief.

Did your vision return? his father asked anxiously.

Yes. He nodded. We shall talk later. He gazed again at the cottonwood pole. Most of his friends had also wrenched free, but two of them still hung there, struggling to be free. The sight nauseated him.

It’s all right, his father said and motioned for a maiden who was administering to those who had freed themselves from the pole to come near. Kneeling beside Tianci, she bathed his face with water that had been boiled with herbs. Now it felt cooling and sweet. When she put a bone ladle to his lips, he drank eagerly. Enough! his father exclaimed happily, lifting him to his feet with the help of Tatanka-yotanka. You have been favored by Wakan-tanka. You shall heal rapidly.

After they had been administered to and the blood had been washed off their bodies, the eleven participants knelt together, crossing their arms over their chests and bowing their heads in prayer. Their chief, wearing the highly honored headdress of buffalo horns, approached them and raised his arms to the sky.

O Wakan-tanka, he prayed, for you we have held this dance-in-the-sun. May the suffering of our people be easier for them to bear because of the sacrifices our sons have made this day. We thank you for preserving the lives of our sons for they will give great strength and wisdom to our nation. We thank you for the light of the sun, for its warmth and life-giving rays. We thank you for the earth, for the things that grow and multiply in and on it to sustain us, for sources of water, for rain and snow. All are gifts from you, O Wakan-tanka! Give us light to unveil our darkness, wisdom to walk a straight path, strength to protect our women and children, and new generations to dance in the sun.

The chief lowered his arms. It had become dark. A cooling breeze sighed as if in benediction as the people walked to their tipis. Tatanka-yotanka parted reluctantly from Tianci and his father when they reached their tipi. Someone had rekindled its fire and left a savory stew cooking over it. Feeling extremely famished, Tianci smiled broadly. The hands that prepared this food for us were surely guided by the Great Spirit himself! he exclaimed with gratefulness.

He then bowed his head while his father expressed a prayer of thanks for the good outcome of the day’s events, for Tianci’s life, for his vision, and finally for the food itself. As they ate in silence, Tatanka-ohitika studied his son. When the meal was finished, he unwrapped his pipe, filled it with a mixture of tobacco, cedar, and herbs, which had been pounded into a fine powder, and motioned for Tianci to join him. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, this smoking of the pipe, but rather a practice of sacred ceremony. Tianci knew his father wanted to hear about the vision that had resulted from his dance-in-the-sun. They smoked silently for a while. Finally, Tatanka-ohitika asked, Did the white buffalo return to you, my son?

Yes, he replied.

Waxte! [Good!] Waxte! his father replied, smiling with pleasure as he thought of his own vision of a white buffalo that had brought him such good fortune. He felt especially fortunate that his son should be given by the Great Wakan-tanka such a distinguished guide and helper. A quiet joy filled his being. Yet a slight sigh escaped from his lips as he thought about how Tianci’s mother, Dowan-wichinapa (Song of Sunrise) should have been with him this day. If only she hadn’t without warning become sick and died!

Son, did the buffalo speak to you this time?

No, but I saw a multitude of people with skin as white as the morning mist and eyes as blue as the noonday sky emerge from the side of the buffalo. They were many and very strong. They did not speak to me either.

No more than this was revealed to you?

No more, except that the buffalo and the people disappeared in the East where the sun rises. It seemed to me that the buffalo beckoned for me to join them. I would have followed them, but my vision ended.

It is a good vision, son, and a powerful one. You saw the Wasichu, the White man, who has come to our land. He lives in the East near our brothers, the Santee Sioux. Little Crow, their chief, says they have strong medicine as if Wakan-tanka favors them. He is learning of their ways and speaks their tongue. Yet he says they are sometimes treacherous people who speak with a forked tongue. Their ways aren’t always straight. Seven winters ago, Little Crow and the other Santee chiefs signed a paper. Then the Wasichus took their land and killed all their wild game. Although the Wasichus said that their chief, the Great White Father, would provide them with food and clothing in place of the land that they took from the Santee Sioux, the Wasichus and their Great White Father do not keep their promises. Little Crow said there soon may be war between our brothers, the Santee Sioux and the Wasichus.

Father, perhaps I’m being directed by my vision to go to Little Crow and the Wasichus in the East. Perhaps there need be no bloodshed. For such a cause I danced in the sun today, to spare our people and our brothers from suffering.

Do you really think this is the meaning of your vision?

It’s quite possible! Father, I must go visit Little Crow. I must also meet the Wasichu, speak his tongue, and learn his ways. We will come to an understanding. The Wasichus will also become our brothers.

Son, Tatanka-ohitika replied, I wish it could be so. However, I find that a chill has touched my heart just now. You are my only child. It would bring sadness to me to see you leave. But if your vision is directing you, I’ll give you my blessing and let you go. Now you are tired and must sleep. It’s been a long day. The women have gathered fresh sage and sweet grass to make your bed soft. And there are new robes to cover you.

He carefully rewrapped in otter fur the pipe they had smoked and put it away. Exhausted by the day’s events, Tianci was glad to rest on his couch upon the new robes. Soon he could tell his father was sleeping by his even breathing. How he loved and admired his father who had given him so much of his time and put so much effort into his training. Did the white buffalo really direct him to leave his father and his people? His father was an old man and might not live through many more winters.

The moon was full as it was the Sioux custom to perform their dance-in-the-sun at such a time since they believed that the eternal light of the Creator was shining down then upon the whole earth. Tianci became restless. The pain in his chest burned again, preventing him from escaping into the oblivion of sleep. The events of the day passed before his mind, but now he was alone. The pain seemed to cause a fire to be burning in his brain. Now there was no one to watch this suffering, no one to encourage him or pray for him.

Sometimes it seemed that he lapsed into unconsciousness, but not the sweet unconsciousness of sleep. As he tossed, his mind delirious with pain, it seemed that he again was dancing and straining against the rawhide thongs that burned into his chest like two live coals smoldering there. O White Buffalo, he prayed, have you come now to take my life? And you, Wasichu, can your medicine be stronger than mine? We must combine our powers and be friends, not enemies! What, and would you leave me now? Am I to be alone again? Speak to me! Speak! Ina! [Mother!] Ina! This pain that consumes me now will destroy me! I want to live! I want to live!

Someone was gently touching his shoulder, shaking him out of his nightmare. Son! My son, his father was sobbing. You will live! You are the continuation of my breath and of my flesh. He bathed Tianci’s chest with water that had been boiled with pain-killing herbs and gave him some of the mixtures to drink.

Father, did I cry out? I didn’t mean to.

It’s all right. I did the same after my dance-in-the-sun. Now rest quietly. I’ll spend the remainder of the night here beside you. He bathed Tianci’s face and arms with water, making the pain become more tolerable. Again Tianci was aware of the light of the moon and stars that he saw through the smoke hole of the tipi, the sweetness of the odor of sage and sweet grass, the softness of the new robes, and most of all, the presence of his father who lovingly kneeled beside his couch. Father, I’ll rest now, he said. The pain is much less now.

I’ll stay here beside you tonight, my son, Tatanka-ohitika said. As Tianci studied his face, he could see the glint of tears on his father’s eyelids. Unknown to him was the pain his father was feeling in his old dance-in-the-sun scars, pain that he would bear silently and uncomplainingly for his son in his stead while his son rested peacefully the rest of the night.

Chapter 2

Mist of the Morning

The year was 1860 according to the White man’s calendar. The people whose skin was as white as the mist of the morning had greatly increased in strength and number. Although when they first came in contact with the Santee Sioux, they had begged for a small piece of land on which to build a fire and warm themselves, now they were claiming land that the Indian knew belonged to the Great Spirit alone and over which he had made them the stewards and caretakers. The story had been passed down by the Indians of the Santees’ first contact with the White people. Many years ago (1660), two Frenchmen (Radisson and Groseilliers) had spent a miserable winter in the area nearly starving to death because the Indians were too timid to approach them with provisions. However, in the spring, they had sent eight of their bravest men, along with their wives, to the two Frenchmen, laden with gifts of wild rice and corn, and invited them to their village where they were treated as men who were heavenly emissaries. After the Indians had smoked the peace pipe with them, as custom dictated, they threw a handful of tobacco into the fire. The Frenchmen, deciding to demonstrate their superiority, threw a small amount of gun powder into the flames, more than was needed, causing a loud explosion. The frightened Indians, fearing they were about to be destroyed, quickly left the council-place, creating doors where none had been before. Soon, however, the Frenchmen calmed their fears. Having been duly intimidated and filled with a feeling of awe for their guests, they returned and treated the Frenchmen to a feast that lasted for eight days.

The Indians had laughed at the first White men who had offered to buy their land, the earth, their Mother. How could they sell their Mother! How could they sell that which was not theirs to sell! That place where I put my blanket down, that is mine, the Indians said. When I leave it, it is no longer mine. It belongs to the Great Spirit. I cannot sell it!

But the Wasichus had insisted. Puzzled by the White leader’s desire to own the land, the Indians had finally put a mark on a piece of paper, laughing, as the Wasichus left the council, at the absurdity of selling what could only belong now and forever to the Great Spirit.

But the laughter soon turned to regret and mourning. The Wasichus, with their powerful weapons and strong medicine, caused the buffalo and wild game to flee before them. Within the space of just a few years, the Santee Sioux were reduced to the misery of dire poverty, forced to live on a small area of land that could not support them. In return for having received the land the Wasichus now claimed had been sold to them, the Wasichus had promised to supply the Santee Sioux with food and other needed provisions.

However, when they received it, the bacon, a poor substitute for buffalo or deer meat, was often rancid. The flour was mealy and wormy, and the diluted firewater, a poison to the Indians. Sometimes the provisions that had been promised by the Great White Father (president) to the Santee Sioux were resold to other Whites by corrupt Indian agents at a great profit to themselves. Fortunes were made by the White Indian agents on the provisions intended for the Indians but that the Indians never received. It was a well-known fact that a man to whom the government owed a favor would be appointed as an Indian agent. After only four years of serving in this capacity, the appointee could retire as a wealthy man, an achievement not made possible by the small salary paid to the Indian agent.

Chief Little Crow, a son and grandson of Santee chiefs and renowned warriors, seeing that the Wasichus must be highly favored by Wakan-tanka, decided to learn their language and their customs. He wore the clothing of the Wasichus and attended their church services. Also, he sent for the Reverend Williamson to teach Christianity to his people. Yet those of his people who had any dealings with the Wasichus were shocked by the Wasichus’ use of the names of their deity—God and his son, Jesus Christ—as oaths of cursing whenever anything displeased them. They seemed ungrateful to their God and rarely gave thanks for what they had received from him. If they worshiped him, it was for a short hour of only one day out of seven. They, in almost every case, were rude, ill-mannered, and pompous in their relationships with the Indians.

The Santee Sioux were confused that Wakan-tanka, who must be the same as the God of the Wasichus for there was only one Creator, had chosen to favor the Wasichus, blessing them with great strength and powerful medicine and protecting them from the dreaded diseases that were devastating the Indians. The arrogant Wasichus, feeling that they were superior to and more civilized than the Indians, in claiming Wakan-tanka’s land, wounded it, wasting the trees, the buffalo, and the game. Why then was the Wasichu favored by the Great Creator over the Indian who worshiped continually and who reverenced the land? It was a perplexing and demoralizing situation!

Little Crow had sent his warriors, Nageedah, Chotanka, Matogee, and Tamedakah, into the Teton Sioux country to tell their Sioux brothers about this mystery as well as about the corruption of the Santee Sioux by the Wasichu’s firewater and the taking and spoiling of Wakan-tanka’s land that he had formerly entrusted to the Santee Sioux. The Teton Sioux braves were thought to be, by themselves as well as all other divisions of the Sioux tribe, the bravest and strongest of all men. It was true that in the past few years they had often seen the Wasichus with their parades of wagons and horses. Cutting through their land, the Wasichus had greatly altered and reduced the flow of buffalo and wild game. When passing through the land, the Wasichus were ungrateful, insolent, and quick to aim their rifles at the Indians. And the Wasichus felt no need to repay the Indians for the damage that they were inflicting upon the land and the wildlife. Yes, something definitely must be done about the arrogance of the Wasichus, but the Sioux did not want war.

Sitting in the council-tipi with his father and Tatanka-yotanka, Tianci felt a great fullness and throbbing inside his chest. The time had come. He must travel with the Santee-Sioux warriors when they returned to the land that the White man now claimed. Now he realized that he was destined to do so. He spoke to the chiefs, his father, and friends, reminding them of his vision quest and dance-in-the-sun. Perhaps if I had gone sooner, these troubles wouldn’t be so great, he suggested. I mustn’t waste any more time!

The warriors who had gathered in council deliberated over this idea as they passed the sacred pipe back and forth. Yes, they decided all as one, you must see what you can do. If the Wasichu isn’t stopped, his power will continue to grow, and he will take our land and our lives from us. If we act now, perhaps war can be avoided. Tianci, return with Little Crow’s warriors. Learn the heart of Little Crow and the Wasichu. Tell them what is in our hearts. We desire peace. We haven’t tried to force the Wasichu to accept our way of life, and he mustn’t expect us to accept his way of life. Our way of life is a good one, and we are happy. We don’t want to change. If we must fight, we will, but only because the Wasichu desires it. We are men! Let this be known!

Although Tatanka-ohitika was grieved by the decision, his face was a mask of conditioned self-control. Preparations were made for Tianci’s journey. To show their admiration, the Teton warriors gave Tianci gifts of horses, robes, and food. Tatanka-yotanka gave him a lively-natured black colt that showed promise of becoming a great stallion.

Finally, the day of departure arrived. Tianci and his father each went separately to a site along the riverside to welcome the rising of the sun. After bathing himself, Tianci stood by the river’s bank, facing east. As the rays of the sun danced upon the horizon, indicating that the rising of the sun was imminent, Tianci raised his arms above his head in adoration and prayer.

The sun, like a royal visitor, majestically began its fiery ascension, appearing on the horizon. Soon half of it could be seen, then most of it. At last, no part of its lower circumference seemed to touch the earth, and it was on its daily journey across the sky to the western horizon. Friend, I cannot make my journey with you, Tianci said, for I must journey to the east. May I finish my journey as safely and as surely as you do each day. And I pray for the favor of the Great Wakan-tanka to be with me. Show him my path, my friend.

As he walked back up the path to his tipi, he saw his father waiting for him and smiling at him wistfully. All is in readiness, Tatanka-ohitika said. We shall eat with the warriors of Little Crow. Then you must be on your way.

When the time of departure came, the young maidens gathered and sang their songs. Some of the braves beat upon their drums. This throbbing, it is my life, my heartbeat, Tianci thought as he listened to the drums.

As Tianci mounted his horse, a sturdy-looking bay with a black mane and tail that he had named Koda (friend), Tatanka-yotanka reached for his hand. Someday I will see you again, he said. May the time be brief. You have been as a younger brother to me.

Then Tatanka-ohitika reached for his hand. My son, he said and then was silent. The mask of control almost shattered. He looked pitiable as the grasp tightened, the father drawing strength from his son.

Tianci thought to himself, My father suddenly looks so old. I hadn’t noticed it before. I’m sorry to be leaving him.

Then