The Tragic Love Of Flying Shadow Woman And Track Maker

"The Falls Of Saint Anthony" by Henry Lewis.

Love And Death Between Enemies
Flying Shadow Woman And Track Maker
Edited by Dakota Wind
The story of the love between the Dakȟóta warrior Track Maker and the young Anishinaabe woman Flying Shadow has appeared in print twice, once in Charles Skinner’s Myths And Legends Of Our Own Lands, 1896, and again in Terri Hardin’s Legends And Lore Of The American Indians, 1993. Both books are out of print. This story is retold here with edits. It has not been verified by living oral tradition, but it bears similarities (i.e tragic deaths of lovers, conflict) to living stories such as Painted Woods and Spirit Wood.

BDÓTE, M.N. - The Anishinaabe and Dakȟóta had come together at Bdóte (“Where Two Waters Converge*”) to cement friendships and celebrate. A young Anishinaabe, Flying Shadow Woman, was sad when the time came for the tribes to part, for a Dakȟóta man, Track Maker, had won her heart.

In those days, inter-tribal marriages were not unknown. If she married him and went to live with his people, it might well be possible that every Dakȟóta would be against her should the tribes wage war. War between the Anishinaabe and the Dakȟóta was closer than neither Flying Shadow Woman nor Track Maker anticipated.

The Anishinaabe left with feelings of good will. Flying Shadow Woman had received a token of love from Track Maker and kept it close.

"The Falls Of Saint Anthony" by George Catlin.

Two Anishinaabe warriors lingered behind their band, and for reasons of their own, killed a Dakȟóta man after this congenial gathering. News of the murder reached the Dakȟóta village which provoked an immediate retaliation, and a war party of 300 was swiftly formed. Track Maker counted himself first among the war party as it was his brother who was shot and killed, and though he loved Flying Shadow Woman, he could not remain behind. The war party descended upon the unsuspecting Anishinaabe who had made camp between Owámni (“Whirlpool,” aka St. Anthony Falls) and Wakpá Wakáŋ (“Spirit River,” aka Rum River).

The Anishinaabe camp was unaware of the murder of the Dakȟóta man. 

"Ojibwe Encampment" by Paul Kane.

The Dakȟóta fell upon them and exacted furious revenge. In the midst of the violence Track Maker beheld Flying Shadow Woman who rushed into his arms with a cry of relief, but serenity was denied her. Track Maker embraced her but for a moment until he bowed his head and fortified his will to annihilate her people for the murder of his brother. Track Maker abandoned Flying Shadow Woman to claim retribution. He never looked back. He did not kill her, but he refused to save her.

The Dakȟótas' thirst for vengeance was slaked only when the last Anishinaabe lay dead.

The war party took a hundred scalps that day, and upon their return celebrated their victory.

Track Maker returned with more scalps than any other warrior, and the Dakȟóta welcomed him home as a hero, but he kept a solemn distance from all, and refused to share in the celebration. The memory of Flying Shadow Woman’s face haunted him thereafter. He saw her in the river, in the leaves, in the clouds, and even in the faces of deer when he went hunting.

At last, one day, a war party was mustered. Track Maker was the first to join, and on the field of battle he was the first to engage the enemy by running directly into them. He laid his axe about the enemy until he fell, pierced by a several arrows.

He smiled as he died.

Though this is a very short story retold with edits, two people graciously offered guidance:

Lise Erdrich, an enrolled member of the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa, lives and works in Wahpeton, ND, and has worked in American Indian health and education for over twenty years. She is the author of the children’s picture books Sacagawea, Bear Makes Rock Soup, and many other acclaimed works.

Dawí, Huhá Máza, is a lineal descendant of the Kap'óža Bdewákhaŋthuŋwaŋ Oyáte. A traditional bow and arrow maker, and Dakȟóta language student, Dawí lives in occupied Bde Óta Othúŋwe (aka Minneapolis).
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* Where the Wakpá Mní Šóta (Smoking Water River, aka “Minnesota River”) converges with the Ȟaȟá Wakpá (Falling Water River, aka “Mississippi River”).

Mní Nažúŋspe KawéğA (Broken Axe Lake), A Tragic Love Story

Mní Nažúŋspe Weǧáhaŋ (Broken Axe Lake)

Tragic Love Story: Painted Woods Revisited

By Dakota Wind

WASHBURN, N.D. – The story of tragic young love is universal. It is perhaps most widely known through the wonderful Shakespearean tale of Romeo and Juliet. It’s the age old tale of boy meets girl; a story of secret forbidden love. But whereas the story of Romeo and Juliet is fictional, this is a true story.

A summary of the tragedy is that a young Iháŋktȟuŋwaŋna (Yanktonai) man met a Miwátaŋni (Mandan; Nu’Eta, or The People as they know themselves) maiden during an intertribal trade one fall many winters ago near what was then known as Mní Nažúŋspe Weǧáhaŋ (Broke Axe Lake).

This young couple fell immediately and deeply in love. When trade ended, the young man elected to stay behind with his girl. This was the custom of the Miwátaŋni Indians that the man goes to live with his wife in her mother’s lodge. But they eloped.

The Miwátaŋni have the story that the Iháŋktȟuŋwaŋna killed the young woman, while the Iháŋktȟuŋwaŋna have it that the Miwátaŋni killed the young man.

Here is an excerpt of Colonel A.B. Welch’s Oral History Of The Dakota Tribes, 1800’s-1945, Story No. 32, Story Of Painted Lake [Note: In Welch’s version, the story entangles an Arikara maiden rather than a Mandan]:

A long time ago many Indian tribes, at war with each other, were encamped on the shores of the lake now known as “Painted Woods Lake,” but at that time known to the Sioux as “Broken Axe Lake.”

...Broken Axe Lake has passed into disuse.

A Sioux warrior flirted with an Arikara woman and they prepared to fly away.  But that night the Arikara men killed the Dakotah in the arms of newly-found love.

When the Dakotah discovered this murder, they all went to the tipi where the body lay, with the poor woman weeping over it.  They fitted arrows and shot her many times.  Then there was war for many years, and a dead tree trunk, white with age, was painted red by the Rees and their friends.  Whenever a war party of any Indians would pass that way, they would paint their war deeds upon the boles of certain dead trees as a taunt to their enemies.

Therefore, the place has become the Painted Woods place of the Indians, and the name Broken Axe Lake has passed into disuse. 

The Waterfall Maiden, A Lakota Love Story

The Waterfall Maiden

An Enduring Tale Of A Sad Love Story
By Dakota Wind
SIOUX FALLS, S.D. - The Ihanktowon, or Yankton, were camped at the falls of the Big Sioux River in South Dakota.  The falls was a favorite winter camp site as there was plenty of water, game, and resources for keeping the camp there. 

In the late fall and throughout the winter when the water was low enough, the Yankton could easily cross the river on stepping stones above the falls. 

Because this site was so popular, many tribes would trade here in an annual rendezvous. 

It happened one winter, at the time when winter passes and nature embraces spring, a neighboring tribe came to make temporary camp on the east bank of the Winding River.  The Yankton were camped on the west bank and as the seasons were changing, so did they begin to prepare to break camp.

The Yankton chief immediately formed a delegation of his head men, some of his relatives, and his own immediate family and crossed the Winding River Falls to meet their new neighbors. 

The new neighbors proved to be quite hospitable and gracious.  They put on a feast and dance for the Yankton and the celebration lasted into the evening.  The next day, the Yankton chief and his band readied themselves and broke camp, their destination: west to hunt and gather as their Teton Lakota relatives had always done. 

The evening before, during the festivities, the Yankton chief’s daughter met a young brave from the other tribe.  As her people began to prepare to leave their winter camp at the falls, she began to lose her motivation to break camp.  Her enthusiasm to leave waned, but she also didn’t want to disobey her parents and stay behind.  She broke camp with her people and left the winter camp behind. 

It was nearing the end of winter.  The time of year when the geese return, when bison calves are born, when trees began to leave, and it is also the time when ice breaks. 

It was late winter, or early spring if you see it that way, and as her people’s band moved further and further away from the Winding River Falls, the chief’s daughter became withdrawn and sad.  The Yankton maiden became so overcome with longing that she left her father and people and stealthily made her return to the falls. 

Okay, so I couldn't find a proper appropriate image of a native woman by a waterfall, and, "No. Native women didn't dress like this.  If they did, I wonder why I didn't see a sight like this back on the rez."

During the ensuing days from when her people initially left their winter camp to her arrival, the snow melted and the ice broke, submerging the stepping stones of the Winding River Falls.  She couldn’t cross the river.  She stood at the edge of the river looking at the neighboring tribe’s abandoned campsite. 

The Yankton Chief noticed the absence of his daughter sometime later and he knew just where she might be bound, so he sent some of his scouts back to the winter campsite to retrieve her. 

The scouts came upon the Yankton maiden, and as they came closer they overheard the maiden’s song. 

As she stood there, a melody from the falls came to her.  With this melody, she put the words that the young brave had spoken to her: 

One of William Horncloud's albums.  Gratify yourself and get a copy today.

Nióiye wéksuye,

Nióiye wéksuye,

Nióiye wéksuyiŋ na wačhéye nióiye wéksuyiŋ na wačhéye. 

“Eháŋni šáš kičhí waúŋ šni,”

ečháŋmi kiŋ óta ye nióiye wéksuyiŋ na wačhéye. 

I regretted losing you (I wanted you back) and I was heart broken many times. You live somewhere else and are having a hard time.

When you quit (that one) you and I will live together. 

Why did you tell about us?  And now I am in misery, I am in misery.  Why did you tell about us?  And now I am in misery.  

If this is not possible on earth, it will be possible in heaven.  

Love me, you made me miserable.

I remember your words,  

I remember your words,

I remember your words and cried.  

I remember your words and cried.  Many times I have thought:

“I should have been with her long ago,”

I remember your words and cried.   

The song, adapted to flute by Kevin Locke, appears on Locke's album "Dream Catcher."  You should go get yourself a copy of this one too.  Kevin is teaching me this song and has permitted me to play it, which I will when I'm confident I sound good.

Song by William Horncloud

Story by Ben Black Bear Sr.

Big Sioux River name, Ipákšaŋkšaŋ Wakpá (Winding River) remembered by Agnes Ross

Adapted to flute by Kevin Locke



Painted Woods: A Tragic Love Story

"The young lovers approach the dead cottonwood tree," Dakota Wind, 2014.
Painted Woods
A Tragic Love Story
By Dakota Wind
This paper was originally part of another paper that appeared in the Fort Abraham Lincoln Foundation's quarterly paper "The Past Times," Vol. IX, No. 4, 2002.

The story goes, that a long time ago the wooded area now called Painted Woods was neutral ground between the Yanktonai Dakota and the Mandan. Then it happened one day in the autumn that the Yanktonai Dakota came to trade with the Mandan, for that’s the time of year when fighting stopped between the native nations and friendly trade relations were opened. Sometimes it happened that men and women would choose a mate from another tribe, cementing a friendly trade alliance between families.

A young Yanktonai Dakota brave came with his people to learn how to trade, to learn how to meet on friendly terms with a traditional enemy. The term “enemy” in those days implied people not one’s own, that there were “good” enemies who one traded and occasionally married into, and that there were “bad” enemies who one fought against and sometimes stole horses from.

The Mandan Indians were a sedentary horticultural tribe who lived on the Missouri River bottomlands between the Knife River (present-day Stanton) to the north and the Heart River (present-day Fort Abraham Lincoln State Park near the city of Mandan) to the south. It was a golden age for the Mandan. They dwelt in as many as a dozen fortified earthlodge villages. The women owned the lodges. The women owned the gardens. The women determined the worth of their produce when it came time to trade. The bloodline was carried down from mother to child. A woman usually stayed in her mother’s village all the days of her life. The Mandan lived along the Missouri River for a thousand years. 

"Winter village of the Minatarres," by Karl Bodmer.

The fall is a beautiful time of year along the Missouri River. Frost glitters on everything, thickly on leaves, vines, and branches, sparsely on boulders and grass, but everything shines in the morning light. Fog stretches along the Missouri River bottomlands as far as the eye can follow, so thick one couldn’t see the lodge at the end of the village, to thin wispy tendrils hanging in the air so delicately one feels almost an otherworldly presence.

The Yanktonai came to trade with the Mandan. War was politely put aside in efforts for each side to acquire needs and wants from the other. For the Yanktonai, they needed the corn, squash, beans, sunflowers, and tobacco the Mandan grew in their gardens; the Mandan wanted trade items, guns, trade iron, mirrors, beads, and such that could only be obtained by trade with the Yanktonai.

The story goes a Yanktonai Dakota brave met and fell in love with a Mandan maiden, and she for him, most likely during the time of trade.

The Mandan have many cultural conventions, among which is when a couple marry it is the man who goes to live with the woman in her mother’s lodge. The Lakota/Dakota too have many cultural standards about how to live and how to live married, but should a man take a wife from another tribe it would often work out that she would live with him.

Young, innocent, first love often sees past the barriers and codes set in place by wiser, more experienced love. So it seems.

When trade came to an end, the Mandan held a feast to see their trade partners off, a strong tradition that they held even for enemies.

The story goes that when the Yanktonai broke camp to head south towards winter camp, north of Omaha territory, the brave opted to stay behind with his true love. It seemed that Mandan custom won out and the Yanktonai departed in peace. Sometime after the Yanktonai left, the young couple eloped and made a departure of their own. Mandan custom didn’t hold the young man or the young woman as strongly as they hoped. 

Sitting Rabbit, a Mandan, painted a lengthy mural of the Missouri River which showcases the old villages, various significant cultural sites, and landmarks as the Mandan knew them. 

She must have loved him for she gave up a thousand years of tradition, her ancestral homeland, and the lines of her family to be with him and his traveling people.

The Mandan and Yanktonai agree on the story up to this point: that a Mandan maiden and a Yanktonai brave fell in love. The Mandan say the Yanktonai brave stole her and that the Yanktonai people killed her. The Yanktonai say that the Mandan killed the brave and lost the young woman.

What is the truth? Is there a middle ground? There just might be if we look at through the cultural eyes of the times.

The brave and the maiden eloped. Her father probably gifted the Black Mouth Society, a police society of the Mandan made up of fierce warrior protectors, to bring her back. The brave led them to neutral ground, a wooded area on the east bank of the Missouri River just south of the Knife Rive confluence.

In the old days, in the grandeur of the Plains Indian horse culture, when a woman was kidnapped, she died to her people for they often never saw her again. Women and children were often brought into the circle of the tribe and made one of them, women to live and eventually love as their captors, children raised to be like their captors. To borrow a Christian thought, one “died” to one’s self and became a member of another tribe, even given a new name to reflect a new stage of life.

The Yanktonai say that the Mandan killed the brave. When the Mandan warriors came to get back one of their own, the brave turned and fought his last stand and died for the love of his life.

In the old days, in the splendor of the Plains Indian culture, a woman would sometimes pick up and carry a man’s weapons, even ride into battle – but that’s another story. It is reasonable to say that the Mandan maiden, blind in her grief, reached for her lover’s weapons. She died to her people and became a Yanktonai. She became the enemy and the time for trade passed by. She died when she eloped. She died when she became a Yanktonai Dakota. She died with her lover.

The Mandan and Yanktonai agree that the bodies of the young lovers were wrapped in bison robes and placed them in the branches of the grove of cottonwoods where they spent their last day together. The Mandan warriors took out their paints and illuminated the trunks of dead cottonwood trees nearby.

The story concludes that in the spring when the Yanktonai ventured north, ostensibly to visit the brave they left behind, they came across the bodies of the young lovers hanging in the branches of the cottonwoods. The Yanktonai carefully removed the bodies and buried them in the ground below. They also saw the pictographs painted on the bleached and weathered trees around, and the Yanktonai warriors took out their paints and went to neighboring cottonwoods and adorned them with pictographs of their own.

Gradually, all the trees in that particular wooded area became known to all as “Painted Woods.” The Mandan were struck by smallpox and moved north and west, eventually to Fort Berthold, their concerns mainly for survival. The Yanktonai were split and moved onto different reservations in North Dakota and South Dakota.

A likely time this may have happened is after the Yanktonai wintered with the Mandan, a winter of peace, in 1715, and before Pierre la Verendrye made first contact with the Mandan in 1738, for the Yanktonai and the Mandan were sore enemies.

Today a game and wildlife preserve protects the Missouri River bottomlands of the Painted Woods. An interpretive sign tells an abbreviated version of the tragic love story on site.
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Bibliography:

Yanktonai Ethnohistory and the John K. Bear Winter Count by James Howard, as published in the Plains Anthropologist, 1976.

Origins of North Dakota Place Names by Mary Ann Barnes Williams, 1966.

Author conversations with various elders of the Fort Berthold Indian Reservation, particularly Mr. Edwin Benson and Ms. Diana Medicine Stone, 2002-2010.