The Christian knows that the body will live
again; that the life-giving breath of the Eternal will once more
re-animate the helpless clay; that the eyes which were brilliant and
beautiful in life will again look brightly from the now closed
lids--when the dead shall live--when the beloved child shall
"rise again."
The Dahcotah woman has no such hope. Though she believes that the soul
will live forever in the "city of spirits," yet the infant she has
nursed at her bosom, the child she loved and tended, the young man whose
strength and beauty were her boast, will soon be ashes and dust.
And if she have not the hope of the Christian, neither has she the
spirit. For as she cuts off her hair and tears her clothes, throwing
them under the scaffold, what joy would it bring to her heart could she
hope herself to take the life of the murderer of her son.
Beloved Hail was borne by the Indians to his native village, and the
usual ceremonies attending the dead performed, but with more than usual
excitement, occasioned by the circumstances of the death of
their friend.
The body of a dead Dahcotah is wrapped in cloth or calico, or sometimes
put in a box, if one can be obtained, and placed upon a scaffold raised
a few feet from the ground.
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