  When Little Dove, a Winnebago baby girl, was born she had everything a new-born baby could ask for. First of all, her father was chief of the Winnebagos, and her mother was considered one of the most beautiful women in the tribe. There were many relatives who came to view the new child and left many precious gifts for her. When she was born, Little Dove was strapped to a cradle board and carried by her mother in this fashion. Each day her mother would unwrap her and clean her body all over and massage her little limbs. Then she was wrapped once again on the board, and life continued this way until the baby was able to walk. She was always fed when she was hungry and was never but a few feet from her mother’s side. But soon Little Dove began to walk and so she left the cradle board and began to run and play with the other children in the out of doors. Everyone was affectionate and indulgent toward the girl as Indians always were toward their children. Soon, however, they realized that Little Dove was beginning to grow up. Little Dove was already ten summers old, when her mother called her to the side of their home to talk with her. “Little Dove,” she commenced, “you must start to prepare for your life later on as a wife and a mother. If you are to be a good wife, you must learn the work that all Indian women must do.” Most Indian girls welcomed this advice from their mothers, but Little Dove was different. Because she was the chief’s daughter some people had given her the idea that she would be waited upon for the rest of her life—if not by her mother or other women of the tribe, then eventually by her husband. When she told this to her mother, her mother tried to explain, but Little Dove did not want to listen and simply walked away. Soft Feather, her mother, was very much concerned and went to talk to her husband. But just as many fathers do even today, the chief said, “Be patient, she is young and she will learn.” Soft Feather was quite disturbed and each day she would ask Little Dove to come and begin to learn, but each day Little Dove would run off to play with the younger children while the older children were busy learning the work that goes with adult life. One day young Little Dove noticed an Indian boy that she had seen several times sitting by himself shaping a bow. “What are you doing?” she asked. “I am shaping a bow so that when I marry I will have a fine weapon with which to bring down the running deer.” For a long while Little Dove sat with the young boy, and nothing more was said. Finally the young brave rose and, bidding good-bye to Little Dove, started for his home. Little Dove was now twelve and each day she would see the young boy at work or play. Finally she went to her mother. “Mother, the young boy who has the pretty belt and bone-handled knife, who is he?” “That, my daughter, is your father’s best friend’s son, Straight Arrow. Why, do you like him especially?” “I like him a lot.” Several weeks passed, and one day as Little Dove was idling her time away dangling her feet in a stream, young Straight Arrow came to the water’s edge to wash some dirt from his arms and legs. He had been working in the garden with his father and now was going to clean up. Little Dove looked directly at him and said, “Are you planning on taking a wife very soon, Straight Arrow?” “I suppose so, Little Dove, for I am almost sixteen and my father said that I should be married now.” “I too am planning to be married soon,” said Little Dove. “Can you cook, or sew, or weave baskets?” “No, I cannot do those things. Will I have to?” “Well, I do not know about you but any girl that I marry must be able to do that and lots more. Well, I must be going now. It is time for lunch and I am very hungry and my sister is a very good cook.” With that, Straight Arrow left the side of the stream and he left behind a very angry Little Dove. Little Dove rushed home and told her mother what had happened. When she had finished blurting out her story, her mother said, “And now what do you want me to do about it, my Little Dove?” “Mother, will you teach me to weave baskets and sew and cook?” So the lessons began that very afternoon. The cooking was easy but when it came to the weaving, that was a little more difficult and it was a long time before Little Dove could weave a basket that looked like a basket. First, she and her mother would gather some thin ash and linden trees. These had to be straight and free of knots. They they would strip them of the bark. These they pounded until they came apart in long splints. Then these were dyed and woven into baskets. Also Little Dove learned how to make shredded basswood fibers. These were made almost the same way except that they were made into a strong thread by twisting them and rolling them against the thigh of one’s leg. These threads were used to weave belts and tump lines and square bags. Soon Little Dove had become quite expert at cooking and sewing and weaving, and once again she looked for Straight Arrow. She found him one day seated by a small stream that ran near the village. She sat down and began throwing pebbles into the stream. “I have learned to cook and to weave and to sew, Straight Arrow,” she said rather quickly. “That is good,” he answered, “for now you will make someone a good wife.” With that he rose and walked slowly back to the village. Little Dove sat and cried. When she could cry no longer she sat and looked into the water until it was dark, and then she returned to the village. Her mother was waiting for her. “Your father wishes to speak with you, Little Dove.” “Yes, my father, you sent for me?” “Little Dove, today a young brave came to see me. He wants you for his wife and he has offered me many fine horses. I think he will make you a good husband, so in four moons’ time you will be married, my daughter.” Little Dove felt her heart sink. “Who is it that has asked to marry me, father?” “Straight Arrow, son of Big Bow, my daughter, for today you told him you could weave.” Father and daughter smiled at each other, and then Little Dove left to talk with her mother and tell her how wrong a foolish young Indian girl could be. |
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