The Solar Eclipse is A Moment of Redemption

Above, "Mahpíya Yaphéta," or "Cloud On Fire," it says in the Leroy Curley Lakhota Alphabet. Curley's alphabet is inspired by the phases of the sun and moon. This image depicts the solar eclipse in the first character of the first word. For more examples check click on The First Scout on Instagram.

The Sun Dies, or Cloud On Fire
Solar Eclipse Moment of Redemption
By Dakota Wind

In order to understand the Lakhóta perspective of the solar eclipse, we need to give some attention to the Lakhóta understanding of the universe. In 1987, Ben Black Bear, Jr., translated Thomas Simms’ Otókahekagapi (First Beginnings): Sioux Creation Story. Simms transcribed and illustrated this narrative.

The Mysteries of the Universe

The Lakhota creation story recalls Háŋ, a great lasting darkness, but Háŋ was not a being, at least not yet. Waiting there in the deep quiet was Íŋyaŋ, an ancient stone whose spirit was Wakháŋ Tháŋka, the Great Spirit.

Íŋyaŋ grew lonely and longed for another, but he knew for that to happen that he would have to take from himself. Íŋyaŋ said aloud the first sound, “Nuŋwé,” meaning “So be it!” He opened his being and drew forward his own blood which flowed about him becoming the waters, and this great sphere he called Makhá, the Earth. The power that emanated from Íŋyaŋ became Shkáŋ, a principle of Movement.

After some great time Makhá became saddened that she was not a separate being apart from Íŋyaŋ; she was disheartened in the eternal void too, but Íŋyaŋ could not placate her because his power left him. They petitioned Shkáŋ to intervene in their dispute and he agreed to serve them as judge.

Shkáŋ could not divide Makhá from Íŋyaŋ, but he could offer her a respite from the dark and so he created light. Makhá determined that she didn’t want just light but warmth as well, so Shkáŋ reached into himself, reached into Íŋyaŋ, reached into Makhá, and took a portion from all including the waters and created Wí, the Sun. Háŋ retreated to the edge of light.

Shkáŋ instructed Wí to shine, give heat, and make shadow. Wí did as he was bid and the world became hot where there was no shade. Makhá had no relief from the heat of Wí and became miserable so she petitioned Shkáŋ to bring Háŋ back. Shkáŋ determined that Háŋ would would alternate their company with Makhá, and Makhá would have relief from the heat of Wí. Shkáŋ determined that Aŋp, the early light, would run ahead of Wí when he returned, thus day followed night.

Shkáŋ gave names to these first two times calling day Aŋpétu, and night Haŋyétu.

Above, the four superior mysteries of creation "Wi, Skan, Maka, Inyan" by Thomas E. Simms.

Thus, the four principle mysteries had come into existence. These four are the world and of the world: Íŋyaŋ, Makhá, Shkáŋ, and Wí. All acknowledge the one superior spirit above all, Wakháŋ Tháŋka, the Great Spirit.

An Interpretation of the Mysteries

Royal Hassrick, author of The Sioux: Life and Customs of a Warrior Society, offers an interpretation of the principle mysteries and their associates. Íŋyaŋ, is the ancestor of all, and serves as advocate of authority and patron of the arts; Makhá, the protector of the home and mother of all that lives; Shkáŋ, the source of power and movement, and authority of the principle mysteries and all spirits; Wí, the patron of four core virtues including bravery, fortitude, generosity, and fidelity.

Hassrick does not offer a narrative explaining how the four associates were created. It is understood that these four associates were created in balance at the moment each was needed. The associate/s of Íŋyaŋ is Wakíŋyaŋ, the Thunderbeing/s with glances of lightning and patron/s of cleanliness. The associate of Makhá is Wóopxe, meaning “Law,” the daughter of Wí and Haŋwí, known as The Beautiful One, she is the matron of harmony and pleasure. The associate of Shkáŋ is Txaté, the Wind who guides the seasons and admits the spirits onto Wanágxi Txacháŋku, the Spirit Road which is the Milky Way. The associate of Wí is Haŋwí, the Moon, who set time.

Others came into existence too. An old man called Wazíya (Pine),his wife Wakáŋaka (Elderly), and their daughter Ité (Face) who was so beautiful that she was called by her face. Captivated by the beauty of Ité, Txaté made her his wife and together they had five sons: Wozíya, the North Wind and first-born, known for his cruelty and temper; Yatá, the West Wind and second born, exuberant and high-spirited; Yaŋpá, the East Wind and third born, and weakest of the Four Winds; Okágxa, the South Wind, who is in perpetual conflict with Wozíya; Yumní, the Whirlwind, playful, yet destructive.

Another of those who came to be was Iŋktómi, the Trickster, who is always ready to promote discontent, anxiety, ridicule, and disharmony among people and creation. Iŋktómi interjected himself into the lives of Wazíya, Wakáŋaka, and Ité, and cultivated the idea that they could have better lives if Ité became the wife of Wí, never mind that Ité was already married with children.

At a feast where all were invited to the lodge of Haŋwí. It is important to note that the principle mysteries and their associates all had predetermined places around the fire, but Ité arrived to the gathering early and saw the place beside Wí open, the very place of Haŋwí, and Ité chose that moment to sit beside Wí.

Wí was taken by the beauty and charm of Ité and was gratified at her close presence. When Haŋwí arrived she saw that Ité had appropriated her place beside her husband Haŋwí drew her shawl over her face to hide her shame from everyone who laughed at her predicament; Iŋktómi laughed the loudest of all.

A Different, Yet Traditional Interpretation

The late Kevin Locke (Standing Rock), a traditional storyteller and fluteplayer, offered a unique variation that differs from the narrative that Hassrick shares after the feast of creation.

After the feast, Shkáŋ called a council and asked for the perspectives from Wí, Haŋwí, Wazíya, Wakáŋaka, and Ité. Wí and Haŋwí argued long and great. When Wí argued his light and heat caused the waters of the world to dry and earth to crack, stars fell and struck the world. When Haŋwí argued darkness and cold enveloped the world, water flooded the earth. Back and forth they argued until creation was nearly undone. Shkáŋ intervened and drew their attention to the destruction they caused, then he passed judgment on all involved.

Wí, determined Shkáŋ, would forever be sundered from Haŋwí, never to know her comfort again. Wí would rule the day and Haŋwí the night. There might be occasion when Wí and Haŋwí appear in the sky together, but on those occasions when Wí approached Haŋwí she should draw her shawl over her face in shame. Then Shkáŋ turned his attention to Ité and ruled that because of her vanity, dereliction of her responsibility as a mother and wife, her sons would be removed from her. Shkáŋ allowed Ité to keep her beauty but only one half of her face would remain attractive, the other half would be so terribly scarred that anyone who looked at her would be terrified or driven insane. From that day forward she became known as Anúŋg Ité, the Double Faced Woman. Iŋktómi would never know friendship.

Wí was thoroughly repentant of his behavior and sought forgiveness from Haŋwí. Both Wí and Haŋwí expressed their love for one another before Shkáŋ; both were aware and aggrieved at the destruction they brought to the world.

Above, "Aŋbháŋkeya Wí," or "The Moon of Half-Day Half-Night." By author. 

Shkáŋ was moved by their sincere remorse and amended his judgment. On one day in a moon cycle would Haŋwí show her face to Wí. On the day of the full moon, as the moon rises and as the sun goes down, Wí reaches across the heavens to his eternal love Haŋwí with song, and if one listens carefully, one would hear:

Iyéhaŋtu wíŋ taŋyáŋ hinápha nuŋwé
Haŋhépi Wí taŋyáŋ hinápha nuŋwé
Makhá iyúzhaŋzhaŋyaŋ taŋyáŋ inápaya nuŋwé

Now you are coming out in a beautiful way
It is night and you are coming out
As you appear your beautiful light shines upon the world

Shkáŋ determined that Wí should never forget his indiscretion with Ité and so now and then the sun dies and the darkness envelopes his light. The Lakhóta have a few terms to express this understanding: Wi’té (The Sun Died) and Wi’kté (The Sun was killed [by Darkness]). When an eclipse happens, some Lakhóta shout and fire their guns into the sky. When the sun returns they say he is renewed.

The Húŋkpapha and Iháŋkthuŋwaŋna light their pipes and pray for the sun’s renewal, but also for a renewal in their fellow human beings. They call the eclipse Mahpíya Yaphéta, or “Cloud On Fire,” in reference to the sun’s corona visible around the moon.

Some Dakhóta know it is the moon that eclipses the sun and call this occlusion Wakhápaye, which means “Of a singular appearance.” If the sun and moon could come together for one spectacular moment of redemption it seems that we could all forgive one another.

Many Terms for Solar Eclipse

Just as there are many divisions of the Ochéthi Shakówiŋ, there are many traditional terms for a solar eclipse. Here are a few. 

On August 7, 1869, a full solar eclipse darkened the Great Plains. Ten Lakhóta winter counts from all seven Thítuŋwaŋ (Teton) tribes remember this outstanding event. Nearly all remember the event as Wí’kte (The Sun was Killed) or Wi'te (The Sun Died). 

An earlier eclipse, this one in the 1830s, is remembered by the Huŋkpapa Lakhóta as Mahphíya Yaphéta, or “Cloud On Fire.” The Huŋkpapa leader is named for this event, as was his son in turn. Fire Cloud later fought at the Little Bighorn. 

A friend of mine shared a conversation with me between her and her father, Mr. Warren Horse Looking. Mr. Horse Looking explained the eclipse as the sun disappearing. In Lakhóta: Aŋpétuwí Tókxax'aŋ (Disappearing Sun).

A friend's uncle back on Standing Rock refers to the eclipse as Wí’áta, which translates as "Sun Entire." Áta serves as an intensifier in many sentences, as to say here, "completely," or "greatly." Perhaps even here, it could mean a full solar eclipse. 

My haŋkáshi (female cousin) Leslie (Sisseton-Wahpeton Oyate; Dakota), shared with me that she learned eclipse as "Khaphéye," a contraction of Wakhápheye, which means "Of A Singular Appearance," which I think beautifully explains the sun and moon during a solar eclipse.

The people who put out the New Lakota Dictionary have had different terms for the solar eclipse throughout the years. In their first and second editions, their entry was Aóhanziya, meaning "To Cast Shadow Upon." In the third edition the entry is now Aŋpáwi Aíyokpaze, which means "The Day Becomes Dark Like Evening." 

Aháŋzi: Shadow

Aŋpáwi Aíyokpaze: The Day Becomes Dark Like Evening

Aŋpétuwí Tókxax'aŋi: Disappearing Sun

Aóhanziya: To Cast Shadow Upon

Mahphíya Yaphéta: Cloud on Fire

Wakhápheya: Of A Singular Appearance

Wí’áta: The Sun Entire

Wí’kte: The Sun was Killed

Wí’te: The Sun Died (also for New Moon)

Some Dakhota say that when an eclipse happens it portended a great calamity like disease or war. In older times, some Lakhota said that a great Uŋktegxi swallows the sun, killing him. Most say the sun dies and awakens to life. Other Lakhota say the eclipse is a profound moment of renewal, prayer, and reflection; they take their pipes out, load them, light them, and pray for others. 

Remembering Phil Baird

 

Phil Baird coming out of the gate astride Boots, a Pete Long Brake horse.

Wanblí Wichásha Wókiksuye
Remembering Phil Baird (Eagle Man)
By Dakota Wind

Wanblí Wicháshala tókhi éyaye hé? Thíyata oníchilapelo. Uŋmá echíyataŋhaŋ iyáye. Waŋná Chaŋkú Wanágxi maní. Chaŋkú Txó oówaŋyaŋg washté ománi. Tóksha akhé waŋchíyaŋkiŋ kte ló.

Where have you gone Eagle Man? They have called you home. You have gone on to the other side. Now you walk the Spirit Road. You walk on the beautiful Blue Road. I will see you again for certain.

Anyone who has met the late Dr. Phil Baird left their conversation with him with a deeper appreciation for horses, bison, education, and the Lakota Way of Life. A wonderful listener, the flow of conversation was never about him. Lekshí Phil cultivated mutual interests in art, music, the pursuit of higher education, and history most of all.

Lekshí loved family. He spoke of his daughters with soaring pride and held his grandchildren with such a great abiding affection his warmth was like a fire. Lekshí loved making relatives. If anyone knew him a winter or longer, he was happy to call one friend or family. His self-assuredness was not boastful. The respect he held for others was like the very Breath of Life he shared with horses, somehow wild, electric, sudden, and forever.

Lekshí loved horses. Everyday lekshí carried the same energy, excitement, and mystery as the day the first horse entered the circle and became part of the Lakota Way of Life. There are many variations about the first horse encounter, but all have one thing in common: a genuine respect for the mystery of creation. Lekshí carried that deep respect and understood that the bounty and prosperity of the Lakota Way of Life worked hand in glove with our relationship to the traditional homeland. He was a lifelong cowboy Indian. In service of his love for horses and history, Lekshí was a founding member and longtime president of the North Dakota Cowboy Hall of Fame.

Lekshí loved bison. He was an undaunted advocate of land management and restoration. Lekshí believed that the health of the people was directly tied to the health and stewardship of the land. He recalled the promise of the bison to provide for all the needs of the people and believed in the inherent value of bison as a keystone species; the eternal bison cycle nurtured a healthy landscape and people. Lekshí had a dream of an educational bison management plan, a holistic and ambitious call to a modern yet natural way of life.

Lekshí was a strong voice for education. “School is always in session,” he frequently said. Lekshí was called to a lifetime as an educator. He held administration positions at both United Tribes Technical College and Sinte Gleska University. Lekshí had a shared history and leadership with the American Indian Higher Education Consortium (AIHEC), the National Indian Education Association (NIEA), the National Congress of American Indians, and more.

On Monday, Sept. 25, 2023, the relatives built a fire on the other side and called Lekshí to return and take his place among them. He goes home to a vast open sky filled with unbounded light and joy. He waves his hat in the Enlightening Breath, a wind upon which all life returns, that has carried across creation since the first days. His voice joins a great song sending encouragement from the fires of heaven to the people below.

We may not see you in the here and now, but you are as close as our next breath, as close as our dreams, as close as shadow in the prairie grass, as close as reflection in the water.

Akhé waníyetu ú. Akhé kičhíč’iŋpi kte. Ohómni wótheȟike ečhéča takómni uŋmáčhetkiya yakpáptapi kta héčha. Mitȟákuye Owás’iŋ.

Again, the winter approaches. Again, they will carry each other. Although surrounded by adversity, nonetheless, may you safely emerge on the other side. All my relatives.