These warriors came in peace, bearing the symbols of peace. They were received as brothers among brothers and children of the chief. The warrior hunted to feed his family, and fought to defend them. The man selected the site of his tipi, accomplished the ritual that blessed in the eyes of the great spirit, and left the remaining details to the women. Meanwhile, the men of each family new to the village paid their respects to the chief, with symbols of wisdom and authority spread before them. They smoked a ceremonial pipe together. Tobacco to the sioux is a fountainhead of fellowship, a sacred substance which softened the heart, making neighbors of men and brothers of neighbors. ,hey created a climate of trust soundlessly eloquently, asking the wild that heaven and earth to witness to the bond thus far. In summer of 1875, the western villages of the tribe are at peace, war bonnet and lance slept in the thick sunshine and time like clouds, drifted , noiselessly by. The squaws dried the meat and the men were back on the buffalo trail. The women were busy with other things, things deeply rooted in the life of the people, things that soothe the eye and warm the heart. These the women did so that beauty too might reside in their austere it was indeed work four these women excelled. With an instinct for design peculiar to her race, the sioux squaw took infinite pains for stringing exquisite quality about the most common household objects. The old people and children also remained in camp, and one old man kept the winter count. This was a history of the people used for the instruction of the young. On a buffalo hide were recorded significant events that kept the sioux in touch with their past and shaped their decisions for the future. But for the sioux, all decisions past and present were bound up with the buffalo. As they could kill this quarry, so could they live. Its meat sustained them, its hide sheltered them, its very leavings were there source of fuel. The buffalo was life and because of the advance of the white man, the great herds were diminishing. The hunters circled the drifting herd, working their way behind the ridges until the wind was in their favor. By now they had singled out a harem of cows and a lone bull as their quarry. Together in a vital place, with great power in each arrow. The great spirit had guided one arrow to the soft throat of the bull and dropped him. Without this power greater than themselves, the tribe would not endured. It was during the cool summer night that the great spirit seemed closest to his people, his presence hovered on the fringe of the campfires, drawn there by the drum of the medicine man, who invoked him to bring his infinite strength to bear that the stricken might be cured. [tribal drums being played] even the bravest of warriors can tremble at the sound of that drum, since the music awoke the unknown and sent troubled forces of the night to brooding and endowed even dead objects with irresistible power. Thus did the medicine man purge the sickness in men, stifling it through fear, grinding it beneath the weight of a knife which only he could wield. The great spirit cast other kinds of spells, less terrifying but equally disturbing in the hearts of even the bravest of warriors. The most common of these was that uncommon sensation called love. The sioux, whose maidens were by reputation among the loveliest on the plains, had a traditional form of courtship. It occurred most often at a watering place, where the gentle sounds of water could be counted on to lull the beloveds resistance, and the young suitor, so much more suited skillful in pursuing a buffalo than a bride, could rely on a more expressive instrument to speak for his heart. [flute playing] traditionally, the sioux maiden gave no sign of hearing anything more significant than the wistful murmur of the water, the sighing of the wind in the weeds, and perhaps the shrilling of a stray bird. But traditionally, for she was a woman, she had heard quite enough. That sad solo was a prelude to her victory. The warrior received permission to propose to her only after he presented her father with horses stolen from an enemy tribe. Her answer, yes. The day of the wedding feast was set and the bride prepared , herself. She bathed in a pure spring where brides before her had come to be cleansed. And on the morning of the wedding day they dressed her, placing lovely moccasins on her feet her mother had made for this moment, parting her hair with a combing stick with exquisite care, and speaking to her as bridesmaids have spoken since the dawn of life on earth. At the wedding feast, relatives and friends war their finest eagle feathers, beaded moccasins, and porcupine quill dress. It was a splendid occasion for everyone but the bride and groom, who like couples everywhere nervously suffered through it. Food was prepared in a buffalo paunch which now held water, but contributed flavor. Redhot stones were dropped in to bring the water quickly to a boil. Then chunks of meat were added, and were cooked in a matter of minutes. The finest old utensils were used for serving, carved long ago by a master craftsman and handed down across generations. And afterwards, they expressed their happiness in the way they knew best. Such joyous occasions called for the rabbit dance, simple, spontaneous, and yet subtle. [native singing] it was the custom that bride and groom did not participate, and a kindly custom indeed for both were too shy at that moment to move even their eyes. Then there was the execution of the marriage contract. No document was written, no words spoken, but the father of the bride and the father of the groom, in the presence of their children, smoked together on one pipe, and by this act formed the union of their houses. In recognition of the moment, they lay before them there must treasured heirlooms, their ceremonial tobacco pouches. This done, the women escorted the bride to her husbands tepee. A stately procession deep and symbolic values. Here was a triumphal march, marking the victory of order over chaos in the warrior society. Here was the promise of enduring life for the eagle culture. In the spring of 1876, the word of war traveled like the north wind among villages of sioux, freezing hearts and hardening the resolve of chiefs. There was no road left for honoring survival but the warpath. Messengers shuttled between villages, weaving the war party together, bringing news of sitting bull and crazy horse and their plans. News that the cheyenne would fight beside their sioux brothers and that white cavalry under custer was on the march set the sioux camp to stirring, set the warriors to sharpening their eyes, their arrows and their hearts for the battle yet unborn. The bright days that followed were stained by ominous smoke signals, bearing word of the approaching enemy. Women trembled as everywhere in all places at all times when the thunderheads of war gather on the horizon. The signals spoke of the great war Party Gathering to defend the land at the little bighorn. And on june 25, 1876, the combined forces of crazy horse and sitting bull met the calvary under George Custer at the little bighorn river and destroyed them. The sioux had won a great battle lost their war against the progress of civilization. The eagle fell before and even greater eagle, which symbolized a young nation spreading its wings across a continent, its eyes on tomorrow. The eagle which withstood the shock of custers cavalry fell before the meshing of gears in and the forward flow of machinery. It fell to the dakota earth, not before the carbine, but before the combine. Not war, but wheat was the siouxs undoing. Today the sioux live in an area bounded by the black hills, fringed by the sunblasted badlands and along the serpentine and sand clogged missouri river. They lived in the shadow of mount rushmore, democracys shrine permanently engraved on the dakota hills. They live in the shadows. The eagle has fallen out of the light and into the shadows, and those pathos in his flight, the deep shadows of poverty and bewilderment, reservation lands deep and bleak and unyielding, these proud wielders of the lance plow. Ever taken to the they are a restless, unhappy people constantly seeking a , place in the sun. The sioux can be found drawn by the holiday spirit, the color which goes to the heart of their past and contrasts so sharply with the drabness of their present. Pathetic the plight of the fallen eagle who drags its feathers in the dust, adding color to the festival. Silently observing that quality which is his own legacy, that quality called culture. United States Government an effort is maintained to encourage people to maintain arts and crafts for aesthetic and cultural reasons. Commercial reasons. Sioux beadwork is prized by the connoisseur, although masculine in spirit, is delicate in spirit and worth owning. Truly indigenous, and it goes with good things. At reservations like rosebud, the government endeavors to minister to the health of those who have not fared well physically in their transition from a hunting to an agricultural way of life. Chronic problems have steadily been reduced. Certainly no people could be more at home on horseback, or more thoroughly trained for the open range, but obstacles to success among them, insufficient grazing areas, soil erosion, and complex problems in land ownership. And yet the sioux today finds veritably at his feet. His hope, the flowing thing, the missouri. It was along this river that the white man first found him and named him, and now the missouri has become his promise of a place in the sun, for the nation which conquered him is today engaged in conquering the river, directing huge dams like fort randall, like fort peck. One day these dams will lace the land with power, generate enormous forces capable of powering homes, controlling floods, irrigating earth, and yes, raising a fallen people to their feet. The Missouri Valley will become an industrial area, a new undergirding of strength for america and a new source of opportunity for americans, red as well as white. Progress which destroyed the sioux now gives promise of restitution. Thus a People Living with an ideal have found blessings can rise from the rubble and that blessing goes beyond the river. Hood that must come to all men, to the preservation of the dignity of man. Camp isux indian winter a historic record of tribes drawn in symbols on a hide or other material. In this short film by the u. S. Information agency, lydia five fire thunder bluebird uses her uncles winter count to explain the tradition. Narrator in the Great Central plains of north america there was at one time an open prairie. It was the domain of many great indian tribes. The sioux were one of these tribes. [native american singing] their existence on the plains depended on two animals, the horse and the buffalo