Who is The Savage? | Teen Ink

Who is The Savage?

March 2, 2015
By Anonymous

 The Lakota people, at first, were not comfortable with my being a participant observer within their tribe. Wichapi, the Indian woman whom I hired from Ohio for translation purposes, warned me of the wary Lakota sentiment. However, I assured her that I was a most friendly scientist, and that the people would surely not mind my presence, so long as I bore gifts. And so, Wichapi and I then placed ourselves among hesitantly polite Indians, distributing gifts of whiskey and the finest deer meat government could afford. Wichapi declared that I came simply to observe their daily habits, and that all knowledge I accumulated would potentially aid White people in the toleration of savage culture. Black Buffalo, the tribe leader,  decided to welcome me with a small feast held in the evening. I, at first, found the people to be as simple as our meal, and wrote so in my investigative notes.
Some women of the tribe graciously gave Wichapi the necessary hides and wood to instruct me on how to construct my own tipi; Wichapi explained that generosity is one of the four cardinal virtues held by the people. I thanked them. We began construction the morning after my arrival, sleeping in a widow's tipi until the project was finished. To start, we scraped the hair from buffalo hide using an elk's antler, and then tanned the pieces with the broth and substance of the Buffalo's boiled brain. Wichapi performed her duty with organic grace: I, having grown in an affluent London school, became faint.  However, I managed to do what was necessary and the hide was then stretched over a 24 hour period, and sewn with the aid and effort of the munificent Lakota women.  Our finished tipi was at least twice my height, and I stood 6 feet tall when erect. Also, the vessel was easily portable, even at 95 pounds; Wichapi confided that the Lakota were nomadic, and trailed the buffalo- thus requiring mobile homes. But still my  tipi was secure, and I slept soundly within, as though I was tucked in the Ox's womb.
I was told, upon growing familiar with the Lakota's, that we currently lived in the month of the Moon of Ripe Juneberries. I found that this happy month was very much appreciated by the Indian children; they gobbled the berries like English candy! However, to Mato- a warrior who brought me along on his hunting exhibitions- the Moon of Ripe Juneberries was bitter. Mato was able to speak a bit of English, and enlightened me upon the year the Lakota simply referred to as “Smallpox”.  The unfortunate Mato did lament the loss of his father, mother, and brother; especially since his family unit, or tiyospe, was highly admired. He spoke of their many fine mares, his father's ambitious hunts, and the elaborate religious ceremonies his family sponsored. Mato wistfully recalled that before disease ravaged his brother's body, supernatural visions played through his mind- oh, his sweet sibling could have been the tribe's pride! Mato cried silently upon our galloping back, even with a robust stag in his possession.
Eventually July came, or the Cherry Ripening moon. Chief Black Buffalo had begun to battle with the partisan, in a struggle for power: tensions were high. Wichapi  advised that my stay with the Lakota's must soon retire, as to avoid being caught as a stranger in political tumult. But she said this with a certain melancholy, with a certain regret that led me to prod for the confession of her feeling. Wichapi eventually relented, and said that she found Mato to be a fine specimen of man, for he held each of the four cardinal virtues steadfast: he was brave, possessed great strength, was as shrewd as an elder, and was very generous to both myself and Wichapi. My friend loyally assured me that, despite her affection, she would still be honored to continue her employment as my translator. I looked at Wichapi and spoke as well as I could in her native tongue, in a show of intimacy and respect, as follows: “Wichapi, my most ardent friend, I pray you'll stay among the good people I have come to know- and have come to know only by the means of your help- if that pleases you. You are as brave as Mato, you have shown complete honesty to me today, you have been ever so generous in your service, and I know your children will one day be honorable men. There now, you show the four cardinal virtues of a woman! Take heart!” Wichapi grew tearful at this, and warmly pressed her cheek to mine.
I departed the next day, after attending another feast to my honor and friendship. As gifts, I was given a dog and a large bundle of furs, as winter was coming and the women were concerned about my comfort and safety during the Moon of Frost in the Tipi. I begged Wichapi to keep my tipi, for whatever purpose it may serve, and promised to send whiskey on their wedding day. Mato called me Cousin, in a poignant touch of familiarity, and I readily returned the gesture.  Finally, Chief Black Buffalo bade me farewell, with the aid of Wichapi. He proudly said, “You have lived here with us, for two moons, in order to understand my people. Surely, you have beheld the generosity and wisdom, the bravery and the love of my people. I must now ask you, now,  if we are savages to your intelligent, informed opinion? The women who sheltered you- are they wild beasts? Mato, who claims you as his Cousin- is he an animal? Is Chief Black Buffalo, who welcomed you openly into his tribe- is he a brute?”
He looked expectantly into my face, my decorated face of Lakota paints and oils, my hair adorned with Indian culture. Wichapi looked and Mato looked and the women looked  and the hunters looked and the forest stopped to listen.  The children halted in their play and looked too. I stood straight, in my entire 6 feet of body, and humbly looked back. “If having culture makes you a savage, Chief Black Buffalo, then my people, the Anglo men, are the wildest animals ever to haunt the earth. For we have cultivated and esteemed our ancient ways for a great period of time. We, in fact, think so highly of culture, Chief, that we believe ours is worthy of overpowering all others in all the world. However, do take happy pride! Your people are a more dignified breed of beast. For you are a culture of generosity- even upon that generosity being, at times, forced- while we are a culture of thieves.” 



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