Category Archives: Intellectual, Religious, or Cultural Tradition

The principal motives for our thirty-three cases of suicide were response to love-motives (grief over death of relatives, marital jealousy and quarreling) and avoidance of the consequences of crime or illness.18 The distribution was roughly equal for the two motive groups and for the two causes for each. These motives and causes are not unlike those existing in other cultures, Indian and white, but the whole group differs in the absence of certain motives common in other cultures, e.g., the economic causes of suicide in “white” society, and the revenge for mistreatment (and recognition-seeking) motives characteristic of the Iroquois.19

The behavioral action pattern of the sequence murder-suicide (or crime-suicide) and its accompanying avoidance motive may be a signal of a configuration something like “avoidance of trouble with white legal processes.” Definition of the pattern as major or minor, conformant or deviant, requires further study of its incidence and comparison with that of murder alone in the culture as a whole. Statements such as “sometimes person can do wrong things which will be very bad for him, then he have to kill himself” (AT) hint at its being conformant with the ideal pattern, but the consensus of disapproval of suicide and certain other statements (“some other people get into trouble, but they don’t kill self”—LU) militate against its conformity.

We were not able to learn of an abstract term for suicide. Navaho employs only reflexive forms of the verb “to kill,”20 e.g. ? άdi∙lyé—he kills himself, ^?άdi∙syí—he killed himself, etc. Father Berard Haile very kindly told us of these terms and added “Navaho prefers the verb ‘to suicide’ rather than a noun ‘suicide,’ perhaps because a personal action is involved in suiciding.

Thirds may also function in an impersonal sense so that ^?άdi∙lyé also means ‘there is suiciding, or a suicide,’ and so on for the perfective and future, which is pretty close to our abstract noun ‘a suicide’.” Dr. Clyde Kluckhohn tells us that in the Ramah region the third person singular perfective (^?άdi∙syí) is used as a noun (colloquially) to mean “the suicide,” i.e., “the man who committed suicide.”

Father Berard also told us that “There is another word that approximates suicide, namely ^?άdqhnaxqstą∙go, ‘when he or they put time conditions upon themselves’ or he exposes himself and takes chances on life. A person may feel himself cornered and is ready to defend himself to the last regardless of consequences. The inference is that such a person realizes that his action is suicidal but proceeds anyway. To induce another to such action is not approved.”

None of our informants had ever heard of an origin myth for suicide, nor any mention of it in any of the myths known to them. RA related the story of the first death from the emergence legend,21 and added “Many years after that, people started to make story people who kill self wouldn’t go someplace same but separate from other group down there.” One of Father Berard’s informants rationalized the descent of a man into Emergence Place to join the spirit of his former wife, in a version of the first death, as accounting for suicides today, but other informants said that suicides were comparatively rare.22 We have been able to find only one reference to suicide in the recorded legends which we have seen, and here there is some question as to whether it was suicide or accidental death, different versions varying.23 We may assume (pending future discovery) that suicide was not sanctioned in Navaho mythology.

If one were to judge alone from the statements in English of the interpreter the conclusion would be that our Navaho informants had a rather casual attitude towards suicide. A victim is merely an unfortunate person who could have lived longer if he had done the right thing. The act is not condoned, neither is it greatly condemned. The usual expression was one of mild sorrow for the victim, and mild disapproval of the practice. For instance; “People don’t like it—it’s a great mistake. Would be better for person not to kill himself. Especially young people. If they live like they should then they would die someday” (AT). “Kind of feel sorry about it. People who do that they bring it up among themself” (DCW). “The people think it pretty bad. But they can’t help it, after it happens. But feel sorry for person. Not very good thing to do” (JA). “Bad thing to do. They don’t try to take care of self, wife, or family like the others. They could live longer if they did. They supposed to live long just like others. Like way they do they just cut their life off” (RA). “If he didn’t do that he could live more” CY). “Pretty bad. People says they just wonder why people have to kill themselves like that. They have to die anyway someday, might just as well not do it” (TW). “Not very good thing. That’s all they can do, feel sorry for man who kill self” (LU). Navahos are sometimes prone to understatement,24 however, especially when speaking in English. Our conclusion would be then, that suicide is condemned (although perhaps not violently), mainly because one should not shorten one’s life and thus escape the responsibilities of life, e.g., caring for one’s family, but after the act considerable sorrow is felt for the victim and for his family.

We obtained ample confirmation of the idea pattern that the spirit of a suicide must continually carry the lethal implement in the afterworld25 (gun, knife, stick, rock—DCW, CY, LU), and that he is excluded from association there with the spirits of those who have died otherwise.26 Six of eight informants expressed this belief and explained it somewhat as follows. “People who kill themselves don’t go where other dead people go. In crowd people scared of him, try to push him off. No friend down there any more after kill himself. They carry gun, knife, etc., so those people down there afraid of visitor. Afraid they kill people down there” (DCW). “They go same place where all dead go but they don’t go into that crowd, they put them off, they afraid to have them with other people. They know these people who kill themselves they bad already so they afraid of those kind of people. They rather have them go separate from the others. All go same country where they can see each other but is different place” (RA). “They go different place. Have another place just from there. People afraid of him when he gets down there, have to put him off not to get in crowd. Still got with him whatever kill self with. Carry all time, want to kill man all time, that’s why” (LU). Only TW said that the spirit of a suicide might be earthbound (“where a man kill himself he have to be right there where he kill himself, no other place. Stays there always.”) but her further discussion of ghosts (“don’t know whether ghosts of suicides do that”—i.e., behave like earth people in the afterworld as do the spirits of others) indicated uncertainty as to her beliefs. The other two informants (FJ, CY) said that the spirits of suicides go to the same place as those of others, but they did not discuss the matter of association with the other spirits, nor did they say anything contrary to the idea of exclusion. Indeed CY said “after kill self they go on where other people goes and take their gun who kill self with (or knife) and people say they are danger after they kill themselves.”

Four informants (RA, CY, FJ, JA) stated that the usual burial practices are accorded to a suicide (dressing the deceased in his best clothes and jewelry, killing saddle horses at the grave, etc.) the same as to anyone else. These preparations for the afterworld and precautions against the return of the ghost²⁷ likewise betoken the beliefs that the destination of the spirit of a suicide and the behavior of his ghost (v.i.) are similar to those of any other dead person. Again these ideas are not concerned in the question of whether or not a suicide’s spirit is allowed to mingle with the others in the afterworld. In summary, the idea pattern is that the spirit of a suicide goes to the afterworld and can return thence as a ghost (v.i.), but while there it may not live with nor in the same place as the spirits of other mortals (because they are afraid of it).

This pattern is similar to that of the Hidatsa (“self-murderer will live isolated in the future life, but will not be less well treated”²⁸) but differs from the Iroquoian belief that suicides are earth-bound, excluded from the land of the dead.²⁹

Most informants thought that the ghost of a suicide is of the same nature as that of anyone else.³⁰ Three (JA, CY, DCW) definitely stated this as true, two (AT, TW) said that they did not know of any difference, and two (RA, FJ) did not express any opinion but their discussion of kindred matters indicated that they knew of no ideas to the contrary. One woman (DCW) did say that ghosts of suicides might “come around more often; don’t know just how often.” Only one informant (LU) said that the ghost of a suicide is more dangerous than that of someone else. “They more afraid about people who kill self. They mad all time, got mad when start to kill self. When come back already mad.” In spite of the reasonableness of this idea it seems to be a minor deviant pattern.

¹⁷ The only additional cause given was senility, an obsolete pattern according to JA (e.s.). Allied to this may be the reported belief that an aged Navaho can end his life by wishing to die; see Newcomb, p. 79.

18 The “lover’s leap” reported by van Valkenburgh (case 28) may have been a love-motive response, but according to the story it appeared more as an avoidance of censure for incest.

19 See Fenton, pp. 124-128. Navaho motives are strikingly similar, however, to those given for the Chiricahua Apache by Opler, pp. 250, 409, 472. For data from the Pueblo Indians, where “suicide is almost unheard of,” see Parsons, p. 75.

20 As in the Iroquoian languages; see Fenton, p. 85; “While this is typical of Iroquoian languages which generally have few abstract terms, it does show that the act was not frequent enough to cause the progressive reduction of the descriptive verb to an abstract concept.”

21 See Wyman, Hill, and Osanai, p. 36.

22 Haile, p. 412

23 The suicides by drowning during the separation of the sexes in the uppermost underworld, in the Emergence Legend: Matthews, p. 72; Goddard, p. 129. This episode would seem neither to account for nor sanction the practice of suicide by the Navaho.

24 Cf. Reichard, 1934.

25 Wyman, Hill, and Osanai, p. 39.

26 Ibid., pp. 39-40. This idea pattern should be added, therefore, to the summary of the assemblage of behavioral patterns of Navaho eschatology, possibly as a major pattern pending further study. See footnote 75, p. 40, and 5d, p. 46.

Leland C. Wyman and Betty Thorne, “Notes on Navaho Suicide” in American Anthropologist, vol. 47, no. 2, 1945, pg. 278.

“When Wakes-up-last murdered all of his children.” The murder of Brings-down-the-Sun’s daughter (Pretty Blanket) and her three children, and Wakes-up-last’s suicide, was the result of the sale of bad whiskey, consisting largely of wood alcohol, to Blackfeet Indians by white saloon keepers in the town of Cutbank, Montana. Their bodies lay for some time uncared for, because of the superstitious dread of touching the dead, until Menake prepared them for burial. Although the sale of whiskey to Indians is prohibited by United States law the saloon-keepers escaped punishment.

[#23] Walter McClintock, The Old North Trail: or, life, legends and religion of the Blackfeet Indians. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1968, pg. 504.

According to tradition, the Spirits of our People go to a place called the Sandhills after the person’s body dies. Good, bad, or indifferent as the person was when physically alive, so will the Spirit go on forever in the Sandhills. A decreased person’s most cherished possessions were usually placed with the body, so that their spirits could continue to be together. The same was true of a man’s favorite horse. It was often shot by his grave. Favorite horses that were not killed often died of starvation while mourning the loss of their master.

It is thought to take some time for a person’s Spirit to leave the body completely and go on to the Sandhills. For that reason, a person would sometimes be brought back from death if he had unusual spiritual powers and had instructed a close friend or relative how to recall them. For the same reason, few people would touch a dead person or go near his burial ground, especially at night. It is said that a dead person’s Spirit, or ghost, often tries to persuade others to accompany it. Widows who commit suicide by their husbands’ graves are said to have been persuaded to join them on their way to the Sandhills. At the Sandhills it is said that life goes on much like here, only in Spirit. The Old Way of life is the one that goes on, of course.

[#22] Arthur Hungry Wolf, The Blood People : a division of the Blackfoot Confederacy : an illustrated interpretation of the old ways. New York: Harper & Row, 1977, pg. 228.

If a girl was told she must marry a certain man, she had to obey. She might cry, but her father’s will was law, and she might be beaten or even killed by him, if she did not do as she was ordered. As a consequence of this severity, suicide was quite common among the Blackfoot girls. A girl ordered to marry a man whom she did not like would often watch her chance, and go out in the brush and hang herself. The girl who could not marry the man she wanted to was likely to do the same thing.

[#21] Blackfoot: “Suicide to Avoid Marriage,” George Bird Grinnell, Blackfoot Lodge Tales [c.1888]. Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska, 1962, p. 216.

The most daring men in battle were said to have been those who wished to die. Men who were grieving over the loss of loved ones were believed to have been especially prone to this indirect method of suicide. Others took this way of gloriously ending their lives out of a sense of pique, or in order to vindicate their honor. In this latter case it was customary for a man who had something discreditable to account for, either on his own part or on the part of some member of his family, to publicly announce that he was about to die by singing the “brave-song” or “death-song” as he rode around the camp circle. This indicated that he would seek the earliest opportunity of losing his life at the hands of the enemy while accomplishing some particularly outstanding war deed.

In the other type of situation, it was taken for granted that a woman would succumb to the pleas of a man who had publicly announced his intention of virtually committing suicide. Such a man, by singing the “brave-song” as he circled the camp, indicated that he would seize the first opportunity thereafter to encounter the enemy and make no effort to defend himself.

If a brave young man were killed by the enemy, his parents went even further in the expression of their grief, and sometimes had to be restrained from committing suicide.

[#20] Gros Ventre: “Singing the ‘Brave-Song,’” from Regina Flannery, The Gros Ventres of Montana, Part I. [field date 1940-1948] Washington, DC: Catholic University, 1953, pp. 92, 191, 205.

Lowest on the list of the dead were the suicides and the murderers. Their souls could not enter the “other Side Camp,” but roamed the earth as ghosts.

[#19] Crow Indian Medicine Bundles. William Wildschut. New York: Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation, 1975.

The [Crow] custom of seeking death as a Crazy Dog individually seems to be relatively old. When a man for some reason became tired of life, he announced himself a Crazy Dog. This implied that he must thenceforth “talk crosswise”, that is, express the opposite of his real intentions and do the opposite of what he was bidden. His most essential duty, however, was to rush into danger and deliberately seek death. This obligation, curiously enough, was limited to one season. If at the end of this period he had by chance escaped death, the Crazy Dog was absolved from his pledge, unless he voluntarily renewed it for another season. Thus, Onehorn’s father-in-law was dissatisfied with the way rations were issued by the Government and became a Crazy Dog; the first year he failed to get hurt, but he did not wish to live any longer, again assumed the insignia and manners of a Crazy Dog for the following season, and was killed. Naturally, while the number of Crazy Dogs varied from year to year, it was never very great. During some seasons there was no one that was especially eager to court death; on the other hand, One-horn remembers as many as five Crazy Dogs at one time. The usual number seems to have been two. Hunts-to-die, however, made the statement that long ago there were as many as ten Crazy Dogs who went to war; one of them was killed, accordingly the rest also succeeded in being slain.

The most renowned of all the Crazy Dogs was Young-cottontail-rabbit, who was killed within the memory of men still living. His story is known throughout the tribe, and all the incidents in the following narrative by Itsū’ptete were repeatedly confirmed by other old informants.

At the old Agency (on the Yellowstone) they were issuing goods. It was there that I first came to know a Crazy Dog. When the people were seated, before the distribution of goods, a youth came riding on horseback, holding his blanket by his stomach. He used his quirt for a rattle. He came into the circle and began to sing. “What is this?” “This is a youth who has been shot in the knee.   His knee is sore. He would like to be like other young men and wishes to die, that is why he acts like this.” Then for a long time we did not see him. One evening he came out, looking powerful. All of us were eager to see him. He made a rattle of baking-powder cans;³ inside he put beads. It rattled mightily. There was a fine chain on his horse’s bridle. His horse could not be seen, he had so much to carry. The youth came, with his gun in his belt. He had a wrist-band of silver-fox skin. He wore a switch and had little braids in front. He had a very fine necklace and shell earrings. His horse was a bald-faced bay that pawed the ground vigorously. We looked at him; the whole camp liked him. He went through the camp singing and swinging his rattle. We did not know he talked crosswise. One man said to him, “Don’t dance!” He got off in front of a lodge. His drummer held a drum like this one, and began to sing. The Crazy Dog danced. “I will test myself, I wish to die; I wish to know whether it will be well.” He shot down at his foot.¹ “Well, I think it will be so,” he said. The women liked him very much. He danced every evening. When the Crow moved camp, he sang. When they camped again, he went through the camp singing. The old women cheered him lustily. He always sang at night. When they went on a hunt, the people regarded him as a dog. When they went to kill buffalo, the Crazy Dog went along hallooing. As these dogs act when they see a cow, so he acted in sight of the buffalo. They killed many buffalo and butchered them. The youth packed his horse. When the people camped, he went through camp singing. On the next day they moved, and camped in a coulée. One of the young men was thrown off his horse, which ran away. He rode back to the old camp site to catch the runaway, and found a party of Sioux. There were a few young Crows with him. They drove the Sioux into the bed of a creek; there were breastworks there. The Crazy Dog got there; he wished to die. He went to the edge of the breastworks and shot down at the Sioux, then they killed him. It began to rain violently. The Crazy Dog was lying in the rain water until daylight. The next day we got there, and found him lying in the water. The people wrapped him up and set him on horseback. They conducted him to camp, crying all the way. All the camp mourned grievously. They erected a four-pole scaffold to lay him on, and they planted a lodge pole, to which they tied the Crazy Dog’s sash. We moved without him. This is how he was killed. His drum, looking like this one, was hung on the scaffold.

Hunts-to-die knew of another Crazy Dog, who lived in his grandfather’s time. He was the handsomest Indian ever seen, and was called Good-crazy-dog; his real name was He-strikes-the-enemy-with-his-brother. At one time the Sioux attacked a Crow band, killing all, including some of Good-crazy-dog’s relatives. Good-crazy-dog said, “I am going to die, I will be a Crazy Dog.” He bought red flannel for the sashes,² making one for each side. He made a rattle out of a buffalo paunch, and tied eagle feathers to one end of it; inside he put beads and little stones. He wore a fine war-bonnet on his head and tied skunkskin ornaments to his moccasins. His necklace was of bapā’ce shells, and his earrings of sea-shells. In the back he wore a switch and in front little braids of hair. He rode a fine spotted horse with docked tail; for its trappings he sewed together red and green flannel. When he rode through camp, he began to sing and the old women cheered him. He was killed in battle.

Spotted-rabbit told the following story about a namesake of his who had also been a Crazy Dog.

When Spotted-fish died, he left fifty head of horses to be distributed among his clansmen and fifty to his stepson, Spotted-rabbit. This happened in the autumn. Spotted-rabbit told the people he would catch up with his father in a short while. Accordingly, early in the spring, he became a Crazy Dog. He wished to die before his fifty head of horses were gone, for no one tended them as his father had done. Both his father’s and his own clansmen tried to dissuade him, but he paid no attention to them. He bartered several of his horses for red flannel and a war-bonnet, made himself a rattle, and went singing through the camp. People saw he was going to die and felt sorry for him. The Crow moved along the Missouri toward North Dakota. Some mornings they would find him lying with married women who came to sleep with him. One day, after going through the camp singing, he dismounted and sat down. His mother had some little rawhide bags filled with ripe plums. She handed them to him saying, “An old lady brought this for you. You had better eat and give some to your brother.” He untied the bags, pulled out a few plums, looked at them, and said, “I began to be a Crazy Dog early in the spring and did not think I should live so long. Yet here I am today eating plums.” He was eating some of the plums, and so was his brother, when the people said, “Some one is coming over there, they look like Dakota.” Spotted-rabbit gave his brother a rope and bade him fetch his horse. His brother ran and got the bob-tail pinto always ridden by Spotted-rabbit. Their mother bade a girl get a horse for her, which she did. Spotted-rabbit mounted and rode through camp, singing, followed by his mother. The Crow went toward the hills where the Dakota were. They espied a humpbacked Dakota Crazy Dog and stopped, but Spotted-rabbit went straight on toward the Dakota, who was waiting for him. The Dakota shot Spotted-rabbit in the breast, and killed him. Spotted-rabbit’s mother was there. She had her son’s body thrown on a horse and led him back. She told them that he had become a Crazy Dog on account of his father’s death. She told them to prepare his body so it would not be spoiled and that she would bury him with his father near the site of Ft. Smith. So they prepared a travois, and all moved toward that direction. But they found plenty of buffalo and told the mother they needed the food and would hunt while there was a good chance and lay the corpse in a tree crotch until the next year. So they laid him on a big tree by the river. The next year they wished to bury his body, but they found that beavers had cut the tree and nothing could be found of Spotted-rabbit but a looking-glass deposited with his corpse.

[#18] Crow: “Crazy-Dog Wishing to Die,” from Robert H. Lowie, “Military Societies of the Crow Indians,” in Clark Wissler, Societies of the Crow, Hidatsa, and Mandan Indians. New York: The Trustees, 1913.

Suicide was rare among the Mandan. The only instances remembered by Mandan informants were immediately following the last smallpox epidemic. When a household had been nearly exterminated, the remaining females frequently took their lives. Crow Heart thought that suicides were buried and that their spirits did not reach the spirit world.

[#17] Mandan: “Smallpox and the End of a Household,” from Alfred W. Bowers, Mandan Social and Ceremonial Organization. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago, 1950, p. 100.

Red Robe’s two sons were killed by the Crows quite a while back; their father in his grief stood before his lodge in mourning and called out, “All of my horses are for those who take them.” He threw the whole herd away, not keeping even one for himself to ride upon.

The Dog Soldiers went out to herd his horses together, because they simply were not going to see the old man afoot. “No one is going to take these horses,” they said. Then they sent an old man to see Red Robe.

“Your sons died like men,” this messenger reminded him. “They died the glorious death, not in bed sick. Why don’t you take back some ponies?”

“No,” Red Robe replied, “Maiyun [the Supernatural] wanted my sons to die in battle and it wants that I should be afoot awhile.” Whatever they said, they could not budge him.

Finally, four soldier troops [the Elk, Bowstring, Dog, and Fox] decided to go talk to him. He had been a good man in the tribe and here he was destitute. When the camp moved, he was the last to come along. He had nothing to camp with, but just stayed in the open. This on three or four months when the soldiers got together. They all came to Red Robe, but one or two did the talking for them all. “We are begging you to do what we ask you—we are not alone—see them all—every company among us is here. We still have your horses. Come in among the people.”

Still he was unmoved by all their pleading. At last Two Twists, a chief of the Bowstring Soldiers, came forward. “Say yes,” he implored the old man. “Say yes, and we will promise you to go to war against the Crows wherever they may be. Say yes, and I’ll get revenge for you whatever the risks. If they be in breastworks, I’ll drive them out.”

“I accept,” the bereaved old man finally answered. “I did not want to take those horses back after giving them away. It’s like taking back a thing given to a friend.”

“No, it is not like that to us,” the soldiers all assured him.

So Red Robe came into camp. In the days which followed after, Two Twists prepared his pipe, taking it to all the soldier societies. Everyone smoked, whole troops pledging themselves to vengeance on the Crows. When all was ready the societies moved to the raid in a body. Women and children went too, for the whole tribe was on the march. Two Twists was the leader of them all.

When they had come close to the enemy, Two Twists rode about the camp accompanied by his crier, who called for the people to listen. Two Twists spoke in this vein. “Look at me now. Soon I am about to follow the two sons of Red Robe. My friends, behold me; I shall never return from this raid.”

The women all came out of their lodges to gaze at him. They sang him many heartening songs of which one was this—“Only the rocks lie here and never move. The human being vapors away.” That night Two Twists sang the war songs of the Bowstring Soldiers.

The people were anxious to face the enemy, but the chiefs held them in. In the meantime the Crow scouts had spotted the Cheyennes and warned their camp. That night they built a breastwork of all their tipis arranged in a semi-circle.

The next morning Two Twists was out in the camp again. “I sing for the last time,” he cried. “People, behold me! This is my last time to walk on earth.”

From all around folks brought him feathers, to help him in the thing he was to do. They tied them to his war bonnet, to his horse’s mane, and to its tail.

At last the fighters went toward the Crow camp. Two Twists led them, armed only with a saber. When they were before the enemy, he ordered his followers to hold back; he had his promise to fulfill. And so they all watched as he rode out alone toward the waiting enemy.

Straight at the tipis and into the breastwork he charged, slashing off the head of a Crow warrior as he broke through. He wheeled about, charging into the thick of them again, working havoc where his sword fell. The Crows shot, but missed and missed. Then our people saw Two Twists disappear among them in hand-to-hand struggle.

Then the Cheyennes charged into the Crows killing them on all sides. Red Robe’s wife charged with an ax. Wherever she found a Crow dead or wounded she split his skull to smear the blood of the enemy upon her face and arms [pantomimed by the informant with proper gusto]. Red Robe joined in by cutting the arm from a dead Crow. He carried it into the scalp dance to scare the women with. E-E-E-E—he would hit them in the back with it; they would run screaming­­.

Two Twists was not killed, and from his deeds he derived the greatest honor. People said he had done his work; they would never let him do so again; he need not fulfill his vow to die. Back in camp, Two Twists sent for Red Robe and his two wives and children. He himself stripped them of their mourning rags and dressed them well. Many things were given to the women, and now Red Robe took back his horses. They, too, participated in the victory joy of the camp.

Red Robe went back to his lodge and in his turn sent for a crier to get Two Twists. Red Robe was accepting felicitations from everybody. To each person who came to greet him he gave a horse. He painted the faces of all adult comers with black charcoal—the symbol of joy in the death of the enemy. Of all his horses he kept only a few for himself, and this time he was not stopped by the soldiers.

At the end, he adopted Two Twists for his son. Two Twists was not a tribal chief then, only the leader of a soldier society; later he was made a big chief, but on that one occasion he had charge of the whole tribe. He had wanted to wear the Medicine Hat in the battle, and he had told the keeper he wished to wear it, but the keeper gave no answer. It was the keeper’s wife who refused him. “You are going to war never to return. I do not think it right for us to give you the Hat. You will get it bloody; you would bring us great trouble; blood on the Hat would mean blood for all the tribe.”

Suicide is self-inflicted homicide and very much a cultural fact expressing definite social patterns rather than a mere individual urge. While to the Pueblo Indians of the Southwest the notion of self-slaughter is so alien that one is reliably informed that the Pueblo imagination cannot even formulate a conception of the act, among the Cheyennes, as with the other Plains Indians, suicide played an important social role. Death courted on the field of battle could be sought as an act of great public service… as a means of self-effacement when life appeared empty and point less, and above all as a face-saving and protest device with legal repercussions; so also, death by self-violence…

…Death was not thus the inevitable result of the declared intentions to die in battle. And the Cheyennes did not demand it when the end to be served by the announcement of the intention had been fulfilled. But what a difference is seen in the social reaction to the circumstances under which death was missed without honor. … (One thinks of the Crow woman’s warning to her brother, “If men become Crazy Dogs and are not killed, they become a laughing stock, they are said to be worthless.”)

Possessed of more fortitude …was the maiden of whom High Forehead’s father-in-law told him long ago. Her lover was killed charging through the enemy. She dressed in her best elk-tooth dress and walked backward off a cliff, singing with her face to the camp, of the greatness of her love and the barrenness of life without him whom she loved alone.

Touching, too, is the story of the old blind man, Spit, who at the Wagon-Box Fight with the United States Army said he was always looking for just such a chance to die, for he was tired of only half seeing his way; where were the soldiers? Young ones took his hand, lined his face toward the firing enemy. Serene, he walked toward death, until a bullet brought it to him. Whenever we led Walks Last by the hand, he in his blindness muttered, “If only I had been brave as a youth, I would never have come to this.” He would have died in glory, in his prime.

Cheyenne suicide as a legal, or better, extra-legal proceeding, involved more than shame or grief or weariness or glory; it was an appeal, direct and extreme, to justice beyond the law—and so, in its groping way, for better law.

[#16]   Cheyenne: “Two Twists in Battle,” from Karl N. Llewellyn and E. Adamson Hoebel, The Cheyenne Way: Conflict and Case Law in Primitive Jurisprudence. Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press, 1941, pp. 3-6, 158—165.

Although the squaws are very ill treated by all Indians, it is said they are treated much worse by the Sioux than any other tribe, whence it follows that mothers frequently destroy their female children, alleging as a reason, that it is better they should die than continue a life so miserable as that to which they are doomed. Amongst the Sioux women, it is also said, suicide is not unfrequent, and the mode which they adopt to put an end to their existence, is, by hanging themselves. They are of opinion that suicide is displeasing to the father of life, and believe it will be punished in the land of spirits by their ghosts being doomed for ever to drag the tree on which they hung themselves: for this reason they always suspend themselves to as small a tree as can possibly sustain their weight.

[# 15] The Sioux: John Bradbury, Travels in the Interior of America in the Years 1809, 1810, and 1811. Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press, 1986, p. 109.