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eaglecircle.org • Виж темата - Eдна много яка история

Eдна много яка история

За войните, събитията, за мира, за контактите с белите и въобще всичко за миналото - такова, каквото мислим, че било и такова, каквото на нас ни се иска да е било.

Модератор: Black Wolf

Eдна много яка история

Мнениеот Black Wolf » Нед Авг 26, 2012 2:40 pm

Битката в скалите

The Mandans were first heard to speak of this battle, and the impression was received that it had taken place long ago and was a legendary tale of privation and great bravery and the overthrow of their enemies. War stories are told over and over again by the old men who took part in the events; their children often are named for some feat of arms or part taken in the affair, and the story lives in the next generation and does not suffer any from having been retold many times. By the time several generations have recounted the events, unimportant expeditions and running fights have taken on the nature of a very heroic battle and, if they survive for a great length of time, become as wonderful as the stories of the ancient Greeks and the adventures of their Gods and God-like men and beautiful women. In fact, these old legends of tribal honor and individual prowess and bravery are similar in many aspects, to those of the Greek mythology and, in justice to the Indian storyteller, often as beautiful.
This particular battle was evidently a spectacular affair and the Mandans and their allies, themselves, give much honor to the Sioux for their great bravery and resourcefulness in the losing fight. While it took place only about sixty-four years ago, and old people still live whose fathers were active warriors at that time, the story has assumed the nature of a somewhat mysterious occurrence and, therefore, “Wakan” and not to be spoken of lightly.
It is a curious custom among the Plains Indians, especially the Sioux, and one which cannot be explained, to make use of a “Holy Language” when speaking of anything of any person whom they desire to honor, more particularly when speaking of an honored man who is dead.
In observing this custom it is noticed that the Indian, in speaking of the person whom it is desired to honor, will often call him by a name totally different from that which he bore when alive. It appears that it is not exactly proper or courteous to mention his real name, and the story-teller will sometimes call him “Thunder,” “War Eagle,” “Horse,” or some other name which carries an idea of bravery and honor when used in that manner.
It has, therefore, been particularly difficult to obtain the story of this fight and the names of the warriors who took part in it. The various story-tellers from whom it was obtained used these strange substitute names when telling about the battle and when at last the real names of the participants were obtained, it was done in an apologetic manner, as a thing almost unworthy to do and as if betraying confidence. It is only just to the Indian to say that the names of the Sioux who took part in this stirring adventure were secured only after a most attractive display of meat and other gifts had been made and promised. to a very hungry and much distressed Indian, for the information. The names were given so unwillingly and under such pitiful circumstances that the writer is almost placed in the position of asking pardon for mentioning them, and we will not violate the confidence of the informant by printing his name. After learning who the warriors were, however, it was an easy matter to check them up and, through the story-tellers of four tribes, we are confident that the story, as given, is the correct narrative.
The story of the Mandan, Arikara and Hidatsa agree in all the main matters and differ only in detail, as one man’s point of view would differ from another’s. The Sioux have never tried to talk this defeat into a victory for themselves, but freely acknowledge that the six Sioux warriors took on more then they could successfully handle, but give them praise for the manner in which they held off the enemy for so long a time and give them much credit for the number of villagers they “took with them.”
The vicinity of the mouth of the Little Missouri river has been a favorite hunting and trapping ground for the Mandan, Arikara and Hidatsa for one hundred and twenty-five years or more. After these two tribes vacated their five villages at the mouth of the Heart river and moved up the Missouri some thirty miles or more, hunting parties frequently went into the Little Missouri country. One of the mail lines of travel used by them followed the Missouri quite closely along the west banks, and another led across the Ford of the Fish Hook, where Fort Berthold was established and, cutting across the triangle of the bend, struck the river again opposite the mouth of the Little Missouri.
This last-mentioned trail on the left bank of the great waterway was often overrun with hunting parties of the Assiniboine and other northern tribes and, while the country was more open than the right bank, conflicts between armed bands and losses of horses by war parties were more frequent. While this east trail cut off many miles of travel, the villagers used the west trails more when they went into the country of the Little Missouri.
This trail was a hard one, traversing as it did some very heavy bad lands districts, but it had the advantage of being so rough that hostile bands might pass each other within a short distance without contact and conflict was avoided.

There was much game in these deep glens and dark passes and timber enough for purposes required. Within a few miles south of the entrance of the Little Missouri into the main stream, the trail passed along a bench at the foot of immense buttes on the west and with the Missouri on the east. Across the latter stream the country opened into a wide flat area, which extended for miles to the hills which bounded it on the east. This great grass district was well-watered with running streams and dotted with such groves of trees as cottonwood, ash and elm and was a famous elk range, while buffalo and antelope crowded into this angle of the great triangle made by the river which flowed south for twenty miles and then turned east for even a greater distance.
The Little Missouri was one of the best beaver trapping districts along the entire length of the Missouri and, as early as 1805, Lewis and Clark mention meeting two white hunters there. Upon the return of this expedition in 1806 one of their men, by the name of Colter, asked for and received his discharge in the Mandan country, for the purpose of accompanying two trappers into that region. In 1807 this man Colter was picked up at the mouth of the Platte river by Manuel Liza, the Spanish trader from St. Louis, and willingly accompanied him up the river to the Big on the Yellowstone. Colter became one of the greatest solitary scouts and explorers of the frontier and was the first white man to see the wonders of the district now called Yellowstone Park, but which was called Colter’s Hell for many years.


THE STORY

In the summer of 1860, a war party of six Sioux warriors advanced into the Montana Crow country for the purpose of obtaining satisfaction for the death of a relative of the leader of the band. Having been successful in their undertaking and provided with fresh Crow horses, they left the Elk River (Yellowstone) and cut across to the bad lands of the Little Missouri and the intention of striking the head of Branching River (Knife) and following its course to the villages of the Arikara, where they expected to trade for some corn from these Indians; then sell their otter skins which they had secured from the Crows, at Fort Berthold trading post at Fish Hook Ford, for powder and lead, and pass into the country of their relatives, the Yanktonaise Sioux, on the east banks of the Missouri. But their plans miscarried and, with the souls of explorers, they had held to the Little Missouri and, in December, had struck the great Missouri at a point a few miles north of the confluence of these two streams. They had purposely avoided the mouth of the stream for, at that day, it was a favorite camping place of the Mandans.
Three and a half miles north of the Little Missouri is a commanding elevation which, by its peculiar shape, has always been known as Saddle Buttes. A half mile south of that butte is another one which is very steep and difficult to ascend and the summit is a perfectly flat area of perhaps two acres. Across the Missouri river from these buttes, and nestling among the brushy trees along the banks of a small stream called Rising Water, was a temporary winter hunting camp of Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara, who had come up from their comfortable round dirt lodges at Fish Hook Village, to lay in a stock of meat and skins, A few friendly Assiniboine were camping with them.

From the heights of the buttes on the western shore, the Sioux scouts located the horses of their old-time enemies, and the band decided that they needed a few new horses to take home for the gift-giving dances which would take place upon their triumphant arrival at the tipis of their people along the Grand River. Their plan was to cross the thin ice after dark and work the herd easily away, if the herd guards were not present. However, if an alarm were made, they would stampede the horses at once toward the east and keep them pounding straight in that direction until morning, when they would turn south and finally cross the Missouri in the vicinity of the mouth of the Cannon Ball.
From the heights of the buttes on the western shore, the Sioux scouts located the horses of their old-time enemies, and the band decided that they needed a few new horses to take home for the gift-giving dances which would take place upon their triumphant arrival at the tipis of their people along the Grand River. Their plan was to cross the thin ice after dark and work the herd easily away, if the herd guards were not present. However, if an alarm were made, they would stampede the horses at once toward the east and keep them pounding straight in that direction until morning, when they would turn south and finally cross the Missouri in the vicinity of the mouth of the Cannon Ball.
They reasoned that the villagers, not knowing the Sioux strength, would hesitate to follow them during the night and, before their signs of approach could be made out in the morning, the herd would have such a start that they could not be overtaken. Not being able to cross their own mounts on the ice, it was decided that they would enter the camp and secure horses from among the lodges, where they would be tied or hobbled and held ready for the next day’s hunting.
The weather turned very cold in the evening and the members of the little party shivered around their small fire behind the butte during the afternoon and waited for the night to come. The fact that they had but a few rounds of ammunition for their heavy Sharps rifles and Springfield carbines, did not cause them much concern, for they did not anticipate fighting unless they were discovered by some late stroller when they were among the lodges after riding horses, in which case they expected to take coup, grab horses and, riding into the herd, stampede them by the waving of blankets and firing. The dark would veil their movements. At any rate, they were brave men and had been against the Crows, who were greater warriors than these village corn-eaters, whom they held in much contempt. They had struck terror to the hearts of the Crows and they would succeed in this small affair against these people who lived in dirt houses and looked to tall pickets for protection rather than fighting.

When the low circling sun had settled below the tumbled bad lands, darkness descended quickly and the six Sioux crossed the ice without difficulty and approach the camp. But sharp eyes had noted their every movement as they boldly passed in among the scattered lodges. A woman or two walked among the shelters and sounds of a drum and dance songs came from one of the largest of them where the Mandans were feasting. Several horses were standing in a group before a large buffalo tipi and towards these, the scouts advanced. But even as the audacious Tintonwan stopped to loosen the thongs by which the horses were attached to their picket pins, a wild yell and a shot was heard, and the lodges appeared to pour out armed men by the score.
Feared His Horses (Tasunka Kokipopi), who was the leader of the party, at once started firing into the mass of advancing villagers and yelled to his men to get the horses loose. But the knots were secure and, before they had time to slash the tough raw hide open, the crowd was upon them and they were compelled to retire or be overwhelmed. Shooting their way through the circle, they leaped into the tangled brush where pursuit was difficult and, retracing their trail of approach, they reached the river bank without the loss of a single man.
Their only safety now lay in getting across the river ice and gaining the western shore, before the pursuit became too close, from which place they could prevent their enemies from crossing after them. A few rifle bullets slashed the ice as they safely made the crossing, but to their great surprise their pursuers made no attempt to follow. This puzzled the Sioux and caused them some uneasiness as they huddled around the embers of their old camp fire, during the balance of the night, and pushed the ends of two sticks together. The attempt to steal the enemy’s horses had failed, so they decided to follow the Missouri down to the entrance of the Little Missouri and then enter the heavy bad lands south of that stream, where game was plentiful and cover in the gorges was easily found and pursuit would be very difficult even if the enemy followed in force.
Meanwhile, a body of their enemies, consisting of about thirty Mandans under the leadership of Red Star, a warrior chief, moved rapidly toward the south along the shores of the Missouri for several miles and then crossed the ice to the western bank and, turning north, strung out along the banks of the Little Missouri where they maintained a close watch and waited for the day. Another band, made up of Arikara under Sitting Wolf, also crossed the river and took up a position in the hills to the west of the Sioux, and a strong force of Hidatsa with Lean Bull at their head, and strengthened by a half-blood named Powder Horn (His French name was Packineau), with a mixed body of Assiniboine and others from the camp, filtered across the ice during the night and stayed close under the banks until daylight came The six Sioux were completely surrounded.
Having recovered the horses which they had abandoned on the west shore, the Sioux were led out of their uncomfortable camp before sun up by Feared His Horses, keeping some distance back from the river in the hills. Sensing danger at the Little Missouri, Holy Voice Crow was sent forward to scout out a safe place for the crossing and, as he cautiously approached, he was met by a flight of arrows from Red Star’s men, who crossed the river at once and started in pursuit of him. Signal yells were answered from all sides and Holy Voice Crow lost no time in rejoining his comrades. It became apparent to the Sioux that they were in the middle of the circle of advancing warriors and that their chances of cutting through in safety to the rough country were small. They decided to make an effort to gain the butte behind which they had spent the night and there make their supreme effort. Owing to the cautious advance of the enemy, they did finally reach the foot of this steep-sided, flat-topped butte without any loss.
Keeping under cover of the piled-up masses of sandstone which had fallen from the outjutting strata which covered the summit, the Sioux managed to kill several of their pursuers and finally reached a point directly under the projecting sandstone cap. To find a crack up which they night crawl to the summit, before the enemy could reach the top from the other side, became their problem and, in doing this, it became necessary to expose themselves to fire from below.
In so doing, Afraid of Horse, a son of the famous Sioux Chief Two Bears (and brother of Mrs. Frank Gates) was shot dead and his body slid down until it was caught and held by some sprawling mountain cedar. White Horse, the Arikara who had made the kill, sprang up the rocky steep to strike the body and complete the coup and was almost within reach of the dead man, when Wounded with Arrows, who was the brother of Iron Thunder (Wahkiyan Maza) and a member of the band of Two Bears (Mato Nopa), jumped from behind a rock and, with his rifle touching the surprised and dumbfounded Arikara, fired his last remaining shot.
The rush of the Sioux to gain control of the summit had succeeded with the lost of but one man, and they yelled with derision at their enemies and dared them to come and take them. The northern Indians were seen to carry several bodies away during the day, and an effort was made in the afternoon to rush the Sioux from all directions at once. But this was costly. The attackers were only too glad to retired from before the heavy Sharps and Springfields of the men on the butte, and a number of me were carried across the ice to the village, but whether dead or wounded, the Sioux could not tell from their position. The affair settled down to a siege; the Sioux were out of rifle ammunition and had nothing left except their clubs and bows and a few arrows. However, they began to feel the effects of hunger and thirst and cold. They saw meat brought from the village to the several camp fires of the men on guard and the distressed Sioux were taunted by the Indians below with songs of victory and yells of vengeance.
As the sun went down, the stinging cold of the night time chilled the Sioux upon the butte and the air became filled with fine, shot-like snow, which was flung, by the strong winds which swept the high place, into the faces of the worried men and added much to their discomfort and dismay. A council was held and the five men decided that the only hope of escape was to make an attempt to break through the ring of excited men below. While it was true that their enemies could not reach them, the brave Dakotah decided to fight them below; they would carry the fight to them; if they should escape they could join their friends and relatives in the Dakotah camps; if they died, their people would sing of their bravery and the story of their heroic death would be told by the evening fires.
The men who gathered about the little fires among the trees and rough lands were dozing with their buffalo robes drawn closely about them and their heads upon their knees, but sprung to their feet, when aroused about the middle of the night, by the whispered caution of the sentinels. Something strange was taking place upon the butte; an unseen Dakotah was singing his death song and, as the sild, weird chant of the song of death was carried to their ears by the shifting winds of the storm, it brought to them a sense of mysterious and intangible fear of the super-natural, and of the possible failure of their own “medicine.” But the strange Sioux song was soon forgotten as old Black Bear, the Hidatsa Medicine Man, began some ceremonies and the men danced and sung in honor of the Arikara, Mandan and Hidatsa warriors who had met death that day.
The long, cold night was nearly ended; the east was turning grey and the neighing of the horses on the opposite shore could be plainly heard as they were being driven down by the young boys of the camp to the holes in the ice for water; many of the waiting Indians below the butte had gathered in a body in a place at the foot of the hill. Nothing had been heard of the Sioux for some time and the allies were debating about sending men to scout out the condition of affairs upon the top of the butte, when they were suddenly startled by the yells of the Sioux warriors and by seeing them hurl themselves over the edge of the high hill.
They leaped from the flat top to the icy sides and slid and tumbled to the very center of the amazed group of villagers. So suddenly had this even taken place that those desperate warriors had killed many of them before they had sufficiently recovered from their consternation to defend themselves. Then they swarmed to the attack and, in a few minutes, Black Tomahawk and Travelling all Over Warrior were overwhelmed and killed, but a number of enemy also lay dead in the trampled snow to show with what fury these two Sioux had fought. Holy Voice Crow and Standing Buffalo were engaged in a terrific hand to hand combat with so many Arikara and Mandans that the enemy dared not use firearms against them for fear of killing their own men. The stone clubs of the Sioux were used with terrible effect, but against such heavy odds they could not hope to win through and Standing Buffalo soon died from a blow with the butt of a rifle.
As many of the enemy crowded to make coup upon the body of the dead Sioux, Holy Voice Crow managed to break through them and sprung for the shelter of the timber. But he soon met other Mandans coming in from the night fires a short distance away and, with his death song ringing clear and loud upon the crisp, cold morning air, died in a whirl of blows by clubs and knives.
The villagers subjected the bodies of these brave men to every indignity and, in their rage at losing so many men, cut and slashed the bodies in a frightful manner. The storm, which had lulled during the early morning hours, however, now arose to such fury that they were compelled to straggle across the ice to their camps for protection as well as to attend to their own serious wounds, which were many. The camp was given over to mourning and grief and for once, the scalp dance of the women was not accompanied by the boastful stories of the warriors, and the victory had been purchased at so great a sacrifice in dead and wounded that no one had the audacity to propose a new name for anyone. The wailing of the grief-stricken women, who had cut off their hair and slashed their arms and breasts in token of the loss of their dead men and sons, was heard in their camp for many days and the white traders at Fort Berthold sold every white sheet and blanket they had, and the white-robed figures of those who mourned had not been so numerous since the great battle between the Arikara and Sioux, which had caused the Arikara to go to live with their friends, the Mandans and Hidatsa at Berthold.
During this short, fierce battle at the foot of the icy slopes of the butte, none of the villages had noticed that only five Sioux were accounted for. It is possible that they thought that one had escaped. But the sixth Sioux had met with a remarkable adventure and one which saved him from the fury of the enemy. When the desperate Sioux had taken the leap from the rim of the butte, Wounded with Arrow, the Hunkpati, had charged with the others. But some snow had drifted across a wide crack and, giving way as his weight struck it, he had fallen into a cave-like recess and must have struck his head heavily against a stone, for the day was ended and night had come when he regained sufficient consciousness and strength to enable him to struggle to the surface of the ice field.
From the camp across the river came the sounds of the tom-toms and the yells of the dancing men and the singing and wailing of the bereaved women. Wounded with Arrow picked his way to the bottom and searched the bloody, trampled snow for the bodies of his comrades. The signs of a terrible combat were very plain and he counted the bodies of twenty-one of the enemy, scattered in the vicinity, before he succeeded in locating his four friends who had died there. Their bodies were all terrible slashed and unrecognizable except by the breech clothes they were around their loins, and their moccasins and the mutilation they had received. The body of Holy Voice Crow was discovered in the edge of the timber, some hundred yards away from the others, and the bodies of seven Mandans, lying in a close ring around him, told the story of the price the enemy paid for his pursuit.
Hastily filling a quiver with arrows and selecting a bow, he picked up a buffalo robe; secured several pairs of moccasins from the dead warriors and, entering the timber, started for the south. As he passed a still-smoldering fire where some of the enemy had passed the night and the day before and which they had vacated so soon after the Sioux made their attempt to escape, he tied up a bundle of meat and, with renewed strength and hope, passed the Little Missouri river and was soon lost to probable discovery and pursuit in the deep gorges and piled-up masses of the bad lands.
The Hunkpati was not able to follow a straight direction, but by keeping in the depths of the gorges which led in the general direction, he was able to come out on the watershed about morning. To the north were the dark hills of the Little Missouri through which he had passed and to the south stretched the easier traveled plains country drained by the Branching River (The Knife). The snow was not deep on the uplands and Wounded with Arrow had no great apprehension of meeting any enemies there at that time of the year. He was armed and supplied with extra moccasins and plenty of meat and he felt encouraged at the sight of the rolling country which, with the exception of a few gentle and narrow ranges of hills, reached to the country of the Sioux, which he would enter when he crossed the first large river which flowed east after leaving the Branching River, which was not far from him.
His plan was to strike the north branch of the Knife river at a point almost due south of where he was, then cross the short highlands to the south branch, leaving which he would travel up some small tributary, flowing in from the south and east, to its head then, after crossing another narrow watershed, he would follow down the first waterway he found, to The Heart River (Cante Wakpe of the Sioux). This river was the boundary line between the Sioux and their enemies from whom he had just escaped. The high point, known as Young Man’s Butte, would be his guide and he would look for that landmark to appear far to his right; after he caught sight of that, he knew the country well and, provided that he did not meet with any enemies of the trail, he felt that his troubles were almost at an end.
After a long and close inspection of his back trail for party of pursuers, he rested for some time in a jungle of high buck brush and ate some of the cooked meat which he had taken from the fires of the Mandans. Much refreshed, and after another survey of the slopes and valleys from which he had come, he started once more upon his long journey. He now made his way to a long, gentle slope; threw off his buffalo robe and started to sing. The song was in honor of his comrades and of their bravery and death and, after calling loudly each man by name, he raised his arms to the south and promised Wakantonka (The Great Mystery) that, as he had already taken a public vow to make the Sun Dance, if he should be fortunate enough to return from the war expedition with honor, in addition he would cut his arms and bleed in one hundred places when the vow was performed, and smoke seven pipes at seven different times. Together with fasting and purification ceremonies, if he were permitted to reach his people alive.
As Wounded with Arrow came up over a gentle hill a short time after his prayer had been made, he was started to see another man coming directly toward him. He also was afoot, but did not appear to be armed; moreover, he was reeling like a sick man or one who was exhausted by starvation. He rearranged his robe so it might be discarded easily and shifted his arrow pouch to a better position. He was not afraid of any one man; he would not turn aside or hide from one lone enemy, and held to his course. The other man had not appeared to fear him, either, and neither did he turn aside and, as they approached each other, both watched the other closely. Wounded with Arrow identified the other man as an Arikara from the manner in which he wore his hair, and could see that he was bloody and had been wounded in a fight. The two men passed within ten paces, and it was only when they had passed that Wounded with Arrow saw a large knife sticking in the naked back of the Arikara. He had a right to kill him or let him live, so he permitted the stranger to keep on his way, and he was soon lost to sight among the folds of the prairie hills.
Late that evening the Sioux came to the scantily-timbered south branch of the Knife river and was fortunate enough to kill a small rabbit and a number of prairie chickens in a snow-covered brush pile on the edge of a steep-cut bank. There was the framework of an abandoned summer camp close by and the willow top and sides were covered with snow and afforded some protection, so he entered and decided to spend the night there. But presently he heard voices and, listening intently, he was surprised to hear his own companions talking. “Now. This is the place and here is our brother, Wounded with Arrow. He has beaten us to this old camp. We are all together now. He will be glad to see us. Perhaps he has something to eat. We will send some messages to our relatives. He will tell them how bravely we died. Let us go in at once and feast and rest with him.”
He rushed out of the place and looked around. There was no one in sight. Frightened by these spirit voices, he once more started for the south and, a few days later, staggered into a camp of his own people in the Porcupine country, south of Iyan Wakan Gapi Wakpe (Holy Idol Stone River – the Cannon Ball). He was never able to tell the people anything of his journey after the voices of his dead comrades had come to him. For he could not recall a single incident after that time until he was discovered by a Sioux rider in the Porcupine Hills, far to the west of the Iyanboslaha (Standing Rock).
True to his word to Wakantonka, Wounded with Arrow took a principal part in the next Sun Dance, but his friends gave him many horses for the privilege of taking some of the cuts in his arms for him, so that now he bears but two rows of ten cuts each, upon either arm.
The site of the well-known Indian battle has been marked by the northern village people. At every place where a dead Indian lay is a pile of stones. These marking the spot where an Arikara was found, are built of white stones; the Mandan placed stones of a red color upon the graves of their dead warriors, and the Hidatsa use another color for theirs. At the places where the five Sioux fell are mounds of stones of all colors, and thus do the northern Indians honor the bravery of the small band of Sioux who attacked an entire village in the winter time, and the old men often sit together in the vicinity and talk in low, subdued voices of this party who died in battle, far from their own lodges, with songs in their hearts and bravery shining in their eyes. And ever the turbid Missouri flows but the group of hills called the Saddle Buttes and the mounds of colored stones.

Мястото на събитията

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Re: Eдна много яка история

Мнениеот 88 » Нед Авг 26, 2012 3:55 pm

Hoka hey!

Наистина,много яка история!Благодаря,че я сподели!
След ръкопашната схватка равносметката е 5 убити суу срещу 28 убити кукурузени индианеца.Според мен, събития,подобни на тази битка,дават отговор защо суу са доминирали в Централните и Северните равнини и са били толкова мразени от повечето им съседи.Мисля, че в региона, много повече индианци са паднали убити от суу,отколкото от американската армия.Извършван е геноцид в продължение на повече от век,като основните потърпевши са уседналите "кукурузени индианци" (както обичм да ги наричам).Просто номадските племена са били много по гъвкави и трудни като врагове.Кроу и шошоните постепенно са били изтласкани на запад,но никога не са понесли толкова тежки удари,като уседналите поуни,арикара,хидатса и мандан.

"At any rate, they were brave men and had been against the Crows, who were greater warriors than these village corn-eaters, whom they held in much contempt. They had struck terror to the hearts of the Crows and they would succeed in this small affair against these people who lived in dirt houses and looked to tall pickets for protection rather than fighting."

Този цитат от историята много точно показва отношението на суу към живеещите в землянки и отглеждащи кукуруз мандан,хидатса и арикара.
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Re: Eдна много яка история

Мнениеот Black Wolf » Нед Авг 26, 2012 7:33 pm

Според мен като воински качества уседналите не са били по-долу. Епидемиите (няколкото вълни шарка) им нанасят много силен удар, но иначе те са доминрали, особено манданите. Манданите са били много добри воини, хидатса също са били известни като добри бойци.

Лакота са били много и са придобили надмощие.
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Re: Eдна много яка история

Мнениеот 88 » Нед Авг 26, 2012 8:33 pm

Може и да са били добри воини мандан,хидатса и арикара,но заради уседналия начин на живот,са били много по-удобен и лесен враг,отколкото други традиционни врагове като кроу,шошоните или асинибойните.Всички племена от региона са претърпели големи загуби от дребната шарка и други болести към които имат слаб или никакъв имунитет.При лакота също е имала шарка,при всички племена, смъртността при заразените е била ок. 50-75%.
Лакота са презирали,тези три племена,известно е отношението към Блъди Найф,който при това е бил само наполовина арикара,баща му е хункпапа.Общо взето са ги смятали с една категория по-долу в сравнение с враговете им от номадските племена,като кроу.Тях са ги мразели най-много,но в същото време са ги уважавали.Докато към мисурииските племена е нямало уважение,а презрение,мисля,че автора на историята е уловил много добре,този нюанс.
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Re: Eдна много яка история

Мнениеот Black Wolf » Нед Авг 26, 2012 8:39 pm

Поуните също са уседнали, но воинските им качества са без съмнение. При съотношение 1:1 обикномено лакота и др. са предпочитали да не рискуват. :P

Бойни отряди на хидатса са шарели постоянно и военната им активност не е била по-малка.
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Re: Eдна много яка история

Мнениеот 88 » Нед Авг 26, 2012 9:05 pm

Лакота,както и другите племена от региона са предпочитали да имат предимство,било чрез изненада,било чрез числено преимущество.Техния начин на война е такъв-изненадават врага,възползват се от изненадата и гледат да убият колкото се може повече врагове,в това число и жени и деца и да заграбят колкото се може повече коне .При положение,че не могат да изненадат врага са предпочитали да го превъзхождат значително като численост.Но това важи за всички племена от региона.Според мен в основата на презрението им към уседналите племена е земеделието и живота,в землянки в заградени селища.Между другото презрението и ненависта към земеделието и уседналия живот са преобладавали сред равнинните номадски племена.
Сега се сетих,че в началото на 19в. в канада е имало няколко хиляди роби поуни,предимно от женски пол,продадени там от лакота.
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Re: Eдна много яка история

Мнениеот White Horse » Вто Сеп 04, 2012 1:41 am

Много яка история, безспорно! Само че става дума за време, в което мандан от над 15 000 души през 1770 г. след няколко ужасни епидемии от едра шарка през 1838 г. наброяват едва 125 човека. През 1804 г. Люис и Кларк посещават хидатса (минитарите) и пишат, че те наброяват около 2300 души - през същата 1838 тези индианци са само 500.

През 1760-72 г. могъщите и многобройни тогава мандан и хидатса повече от десетилетие не позволяват на лакота да преминат Мисури. Епидемията от едра шарка през 1772 отнася три-четвърти от манданите и минитарите; едва тогава първо саоне (северните лакота), а след тях и оглала и сичангху преминават реката и навлизат дълбоко в Равнините, достигайки 2-3 години по-късно и до Черните хълмове.

Относно воинските качества на мандан и хидатса е добре да се четат записките на Джордж Катлин и принц Максимилиян. Катлин е възхитен от благородството и "джентълменското поведение" на манданите, които според него не са агресивни хора и - предвид вече значително намалелия си брой през 30-те години на 19-ти век - водят главно отбранителни войни. Същевременно техният вожд Мато Топе (Четирите Мечки) се сражава на бойното поле "със силата и яростта на четири мечки гризли", сам обръща в бягство отряд асинибоини, убива в двубои няколко прославени вождове и воини на неприятелски племена и отмъщава жестоко на арикари и прерийни оджибуеи за смъртта на свои близки.

И Катлин, и Максимилиян пишат, че минитарите (хидатса) били много по-войнствени и агресивни от мандан - техни бойни отряди непрекъснато кръстосвали Равнините, навлизайки чак в Скалистите планини. Мнозина изследователи смятат, че обществата на Воините Кучета при кроу, шайените и дори при кайоуа произлизат от воинското братство на хидатските Мъже Кучета. Оттам са заимствани дори характерните "вранови корони" и "плащове на неотстъпващите". Лакота пък директно наричат своите неотстъпващи воини Миуатани - т.е. "Манданите". Това са факти, които едва ли могат да бъдат неглижирани!

Може много да се напише и за мандан и хидатса като културен образец за редица номадски племена, както и за ролята им на "духовни патриарси на Северните равнини" (цитирам изказване на представител на чернокраките - народ, не по-малко агресивен и арогантен спрямо чуждите от лакота!)... но това е доста дълга тема, а стана твърде късно и на мен много ми се доспа...
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