Manataka
American Indian Council
THE STORY OF SID-DI-POU-I-WI-TA
THE
STORY OF SID-DI-POU-I-WI-TA
A Wintun Story
As
told by Alfred C. Gillis[4], a Wintun
Indian, and Recorded by George Wharton James[1]
Edited by Cindy Beck. © American
Native Press Archives and Sequoyah Research Center
The Wintun tribe of Indians was, for long
centuries, the most powerful tribe of the northern part of California. The men
were stalwart warriors, made so by their training and the fact that they were
ever at war defending the generous and fruitful land that the gods had bestowed
upon them. They occupied all the upper part of the Sacramento River, together
with the Pitt, McCloud and a large part of Trinity Rivers, with the
tributary country. It was a
wonderful land, the rivers teeming with fish, and their banks the populous homes
of beaver, mink, otter and other fur-bearing animals.
On
the hills were elk, deer, antelope and bear in abundance, as well as the smaller
squirrel, rabbit and raccoon. The digger pine and the pinyon gave an abundance
of delicious nuts, the white and black oaks yielded their rich harvests of
acorns, the buckeyes gave their rich chestnuts, the meadows gave abundantly of
nutritious grass seeds and fruits and berries abounded on the hillsides. In the
swamps and marshes great bulbous roots were found which added to the food
supply. It was a country of the yew, rarely found in California, and no wood was
so suitable for making the bow of the warrior and hunter as this, and, as on the
eastern slopes of Mt. Shasta vast ledges of native volcanic glass -- obsidian --
were found, it was comparatively easy to equip the Wintun warriors with bows and
arrows that had no superiors and few equals in the land.
Possessing such a country as this it is no wonder the Wintuns were a proud and
haughty people, ever boastful of their favored land and equally ready to defend
it from those who would seize it from them. For, naturally, being so
desirable to the Wintuns, it was coveted by all other near-by tribes. Many were
the endeavors made to wrest it from the Wintuns, sometimes by a single
warrior-chief and his people, and again by the combined efforts of several.
Among the many stories of these endeavors is that of Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta, A
Pouiyail Yuki -- or eastern enemy as the name implies. Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta's
father was a Yuki and his mother a Wintun. His home was under the bluffs on the
flat on the Sacramento River just east of the present town of Redding. As he
grew to manhood he became a great warrior and a much dreaded one. For to make
himself and his people invincible in war he was monstrously cruel to those who
were weaker than himself and were unable to withstand his brutal tyranny.
As soon as he had fairly well established his power, he began the habit of making periodical raids on the camps located on the Sacramento River. From Kennett down he would seize every boy and girl of suitable age and bring them to his camp. He would also steal all the food, baskets, and blankets made from rabbit skins. This kept all the camps of the Dowpom Wintuns impoverished, and, having no sons to train for warriors, they were kept weak so that they could not oppose Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta's plans.
In
his own camp, which was known as Nolta Pou-i-dall, signifying an angular flat at
a bend in a river, Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta would put the boys and girls he had
captured through a rigorous course of physical training, the boys that they
might speedily become competent warriors and the latter that they might be fit
mates for them.
For long years Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta looked with longing eyes upon the upper
reaches of the Sacramento, and the Pitt and McCloud rivers. He lusted earnestly
for their rich harvests of fish, game, seeds and fruit. Yet the Wintuns of this
coveted country were strong and warlike. They had successfully resisted all
endeavors, hitherto, to dispossess them, and Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta knew that it
would require a large army of his finest and bravest fighters to win a foothold
there. So he drilled and trained, disciplined and marched week after week, month
after month, until his warriors were able to obey his harshest commands with
ease. They took long marches and endured great hardships and overcame tremendous
obstacles in order that in combat they might be invincible. Then to make
assurance doubly sure, Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta made an alliance with the Pomquail
Yukis, and, at an appointed time, marched northward, bound on his errand of
conquest.
As he ascended the river and easily drove ahead of him the few small bands that
were in his way, it was not long before the alarming runners and tell-tale
watch-fires warned the Dowpom Wintuns that he was coming. Hastily they summoned
all their warriors, even from the far-away Trinity River, and when the invaders
reached the place where the McCloud River flows into the Pitt -- known,
therefore, as Dowin-kil, "the meeting place of the rivers" -- They
were ready to resist to the death their further progress. The main village of
the Dowpom Wintuns was located at this place and many Indian houses, and the
great ceremonial dance, and sweat-houses -- called schloots -- occupied the
site.
The invaders came up the river on the other side and early in the morning began
their attack by sending a fierce shower of arrows across the river into the
village. This was done with the intent of forcing the Wintuns into shelter, so
that the warriors of Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta might secretly swim across the river and
thus stealthily gain possession of the place. Many scores thus crossed, but they
were met by the deadly arrows of the Wintuns, who were very crafty. At the
same time a band of the keenest and youngest of the McCloud River warriors
cunningly planned and carried out a surprise attack.
See these brave and fierce defenders of their home as they prepare to circumvent
their foes. After the orders are given and all fully understand what is to be
done, not a word, a whisper is uttered. See them as they start off. A thousand
or more of them. Each one is dressed in a long elk-hide cloak, with the right
arm cut in half moon shape in such fashion as to have the warrior's arm
exposed.
Around
the waist is a belt of dressed buckskin. Held upright in his long, thick, black
hair which is tightly bound at the back of his head, is stuck and thus hidden,
his weapon of close defense, a knife about six inches long, made from the
shin-bone of an elk. Each carries his yew bow, with an otter-skin case full of
arrows slung over his back. Silently they steal down to the river, and equally
silently enter the water, holding bow, quiver and arrows up with one hand, yet
deftly and swiftly swimming with the other. Soon they are all on the other side,
and with silent speed are ascending the trail, through the forest. An hour or
more passes and they are still moving rapidly in their warrior hop, but now, as
they approach more nearly to where their enemies are -- whose shouts and yells
can clearly be heard - they proceed more quietly and stealthily (were that
possible) through with almost equal speed.
The enemy has been so occupied that there seems to have been no idea of pickets
or sentries, so the Wintuns were able to line up in irregular formation directly
on the ridge above where the archers were firing their arrows into the village
across the river.
Then, with terrific yells, screams, screeching and howls that seemed enough to
wake the dead, pulling their bows with fierce anger as they leaped forward, the
advance was made. It was in reality a complete surprise, for, so quickly did
they dash down the slope that the invaders were irresistibly swept into the
river, where one by one they were either shot through and through with arrows,
or smitten on the head with stones, stunned and thus drowned. A few of the more
impetuous of the attackers seized the bodies of their enemies and fell with them
into the river, where by stabbing or strangling they were soon overpowered.
This defeat was no sooner accomplished than the Wintuns again dashed into the
river, swam across and with equally fierce impetuosity fell upon those of the
Poouiyail Yukis who had succeeded in finding a landing on the other side. The
conflict was too unequal, the surprise too complete, and in an incredibly short
space of time there was not an enemy left on his feet. In accordance with their
custom, every slain enemy was scalped, and each warrior looked among the dead in
the hope of finding Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta's body there. But that crafty warrior was
too careful of his own life to risk himself in too great danger. When the flank
movement was executed, he succeeded, in the ensuing confusion, in making his
escape.
Though they were very sorry he had eluded them, the Wintuns were too proud of
their victory to stop their rejoicings. With loud songs of triumph, in which
their women joined, they danced around the scalp-pole, and drank and feasted in
their joy. After a long night thus spent it was decided by the leaders to call
all the men, women, youth, and maidens from the supper reaches of the Little
Sacramento, the Pitt, the McCloud and Trinity rivers and have a great dance of
rejoicing in the tribal schloot located on the McCloud River. This dance-schloot
was a building such as no white man believes the Indians were able to build. It
had a tree trunk for its center pole, with seven lesser trunks for main supports
-- thus representing the polar star and the seven stars of the constellation of
the dipper[2].
It was circular and had a seat placed completely around its inner circumference.
Over five hundred people could sit and dance conveniently in this great building
at one time.
When
the day of the great festival arrived the home women piled up great baskets full
of acorn bread, roast and baked meats and other eatables; and nuts and roots and
fruits were scattered around in reckless profusion. Near a score of fires a
hundred baskets sent forth appetizing odors of delicious stews, and provision
was made for everyone -- as no disgrace could have been greater than for them to
fail in any of the duties of a generous hospitality.
And the crowds that came fully justified their expectations. All the valor and
strength, and all the beauty and femininely [sic] desirable of the men and women
and the youths and maidens of the tribe were present and each and all joined in
the dances that were kept up continuously with enthusiasm and fervor.
When the dance was at its height a gorgeous personage appeared at the entrance
way and proudly marched into the schloot. He was evidently a notable for he was
clothed in the finest of garments and proudly wore on his breast the elaborately
beaded mempoe, the sign of chieftainship.
It should be noted that there was a kind of runway or chute, leading to the main
entrance and that, standing before this chute, were four men, all of who had
suffered some wrong at the hands of Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta. They had vowed to be on
the watch for him, and if he dared to appear, to kill him.
As soon, therefore, as this proud person arrived, the leader of the four
whispered to the others: "There goes Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta!" "How do
you know?" questioned the others. "Why, see his gorgeous clothes, and
then notice the mempoc. He it is, sure enough. I know him well and there can be
no mistake. Let us kill him."
But Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta had already passed on into the schloot and it was decided
not to kill him there, but to wait until he came out. Then --
In the meantime, Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta had joined in the dance, which went on
untiringly and continuously. Many made comment on his fine clothes and the
wonderful mempoc he was wearing, but it was not considered proper to demand of
him who he was, or require him to uncover his face, until the proper time came.
Towards morning, however, when all the dancers seemed to be tired, Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta
stepped up to a youth, the most handsome, athletic and powerful of them all, a
young man of some thirty years who was destined ere long to be the chief of the
McCloud River Wintuns. He was full of life and fire with considerable wit and
humor and yet had a strong and commanding face. He was beloved by this people
and had not an enemy among them.
Taking him by the hand Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta said, "I understand you are the
coming chief of the McCloud Wintuns." "I am," said the youth.
"That is good," replied
Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta. "I should like to see you become a great chieftain, an
invincible warrior, the protector and father of your people. Let me decorate you
with the garments of chieftainship and the special symbol of your high
office." And taking off his own elaborate costume and the mempoc, he
reverently placed them upon the youth saying, "Now I give you the garments
and the mempoc of a chief. May you live long and wear them worthily."
And now the diabolical and crafty cunning of Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta begins to
manifest itself. Having divested himself of his chieftain's garments and the
mempoc, the ordinary clothes he wore became in reality a disguise, so that as he
passed out of the schloot no one recognized him. The four watchers saw him pass
but never dreamed he was the enemy for whom they were searching.
Shortly, however, the young chief, full of joy and pride in the new garments
that had been so generously bestowed upon him by the stranger, came marching
towards the entrance. The watchers were on alert, but the morning light was dim
so that they could not see clearly, and seeing only that the one who was
approaching was clothed in the chieftain's garments and wore the mempoc, they
hurled their sharp spears into his yielding body so that he fell dead at their
feet.
It was not long before they discovered their awful mistake, but the deed was
done and there was no undoing it. The crafty cunning of Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta had
again stood him in good stead, for he had not only escaped, but had succeeded in
getting one of his chief rivals killed.
When the people saw what the treachery of Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta had brought upon
them, they were filled with deep sorrow, and loud wailings rent the air. Then
their sorrow changed to anger and they decided to call a conference, for the
purpose of determining what punishment should be visited upon the wicked chief.
As a result of the conference it was decided to send a force down the river to
destroy the camp of Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta, slay him and his sons and kill or
disperse his warriors. Two chiefs were appointed to carry out this plan. One of
them was Sed-im-seh-li -- the leader of the Coyotes -- one whom friends and foes
alike agreed had never allowed his enemies to surprise him. The other was the
chief of the McCloud Wintuns, Do-li-ken-til-i-ma -- the silver throated one --
who, in a long career as a warrior chief had never once been successfully
challenged. He had always been ready for his enemies and had never failed to
defeat them.
These two skillful and practical warriors soon had their forces well organized
and when all was ready they started out to punish Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta. When they
came to within a bow-shot of his camp, a runner-herald was sent. All was alert
and expectant in Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta's camp, for his sentries and outlooks had
warned him of the coming of the army of punishment. So they all heard what the
herald said. In a loud voice he cried, "Do-li-ken-til-i-ma put these words
into my mouth to speak to the cowardly and treacherous Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta. 'I am
dressed in my warrior's garments, ready to fight you. Are you dressed in
yours? When you came to our camp you played a woman's trick. Now I challenge you
to come out and play the part of a man.'"
No sooner had the herald ceased speaking than Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta's sons and
warriors rushed forth and with great fury attacked the challenging army. They
fought with desperation, for they knew it was a fight to the death, a fight of
extermination. It was not long before Do-li-ken-til-i-ma picked out one of Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta's
sons for his special attack, while Sed-im-seh-li picked out the other. Though
the youths were brave and expert fighters, neither of them could withstand the
onslaught of these two chiefs and in a short time both of them fell dead. But
nowhere in the battling throng was Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta himself to be seen. So Do-li-ken-til-i-ma
placed his foot on the breast of the son he had slain and called in a loud voice
to Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta: "Where is the braggart chieftain? How is it he does
not appear to fight his foes? I came here to fight you, but you sent your son
against me and he now lies
dead before me with one of my feet on his breast."
But Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta did not appear. He was afraid and in hiding.
The effect of the death of the two sons of the noted chieftain was so great upon
the northern Wintuns that they fought more rigorously than before, while their
foes became more and more disheartened and discouraged. It was not long,
therefore, before the forces of the south were beaten back with great slaughter
and their retreat soon became a disorganized flight.
Then, and not till then, did Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta show himself. Angered at his
defeat, infuriated by the taunts of his victorious foes, made reckless by the
death of his sons, and hopeless by the seizure of his food supplies, he came out
on the bluffs, overlooking the scene of conflict, and there with obscene
gestures and disgraceful words, endeavored to make light of his situation. But
nothing could undo the pain, chagrin and bitterness he felt. He saw his
disorganized and defeated followers fleeing from his triumphant foes, and his
cowardly heart prompted him to desert them and seek his own safety. Hence, he
fled, and it was later learned that he had gone to the home of his father's
ancestors, the Pouiyail Yukis, near Lassen Butte [3].
In the meantime, Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta's defeated warriors were captured and
brought back by the victorious forces of Do-li-ken-til-i-ma and Sed-im-sch-li,
to their former homes. There they were addressed by the great silver-throated
chief in the following words: "O, warriors of Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta, listen to
the words of Do-li-ken-til-i-ma. Your great chief has fled, deserted you like
the coward he is. You fought for him and tried to capture a territory that was
not yours. You have been defeated. Now go back to the homes from which you were
stolen in your childhood, or to those places where your own people belong."
Thus the Elpom Wintuns were returned to their homes and also those who came from
Dowpom -- the region of the foothills.
Never again did Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta appear as a warrior. He lived in seclusion,
but was always spoken of by the Wintuns as a braggart, a coward, a traitor and a
murderer. When, finally, he died, his body was brought to the place where he
used to live on the flats near Redding, and there directly across from Turtle
Bay he was buried in a vast mound raised over him, which remains to this day.
On the other hand, Do-li-ken-til-i-ma lived to a ripe old age, the honored and
beloved chief of his people on the McCloud River, or Wena Mame -- the middle
river -- sometimes called the Topy Mame -- the much coveted river.
He had one narrow escape from death which came about as follows:
It was soon after the great fight with Sid-di-pou-i-wi-ta that the white men
first came in to the country of the Wintuns. A band of soldiers appeared and
finding a good camping place at an Indian village named See-di-tom, the place of
the pine leaves -- settled there and prepared for a long stay. As they were
eager to eat venison they persuaded the Indians to take them hunting and they
also wished to see the Indians dance, so the Wintuns prepared a great feast and
arranged for a series of dances that should last many days. Many visitors came
to the dances and among others a band from the Trinity River. These had had much
experience with the white soldiers for the trail used by the latter came to
their villages first. Consequently the dancers listened to them when secretly,
they solemnly warned: "These soldiers are not your friends. They are
deceiving you. They are preparing a trap for you and intend to kill you."
As soon as this warning spread among the dancers they rapidly began to dwindle
away, as none of them had brought bows, arrows, spears, battle-axes or sling
shots with them, and they were defenseless. Though there were originally over a
thousand of them, soon less than sixty were left. When they realized this the
soldiers expressed surprise, and some of them followed the Indians when they
left camp to find out what had become of the others.
But Do-li-ken-til-i-ma, with forty-five of this warriors, still remained, and in
order to capture them, the soldiers invited them to eat dinner with them. When
they were all seated at the table some good spirit must have warned the old
chief, for, rising from his seat and picking up a bucket, he said he must go to
the river and fetch some fresh water. One of the soldiers stealthily followed
him, but his suspicions were quieted when he saw that the chief did actually go
to the river and dip up a bucket of water from it. But had he watched a few
moments longer he would have been much surprised, for, placing the bucket on the
ground, Do-li-ken-til-i-ma dived headlong into the river, hid himself under the
bank until he felt sure that he was free from observation and then swam to the
other side of the river, and escaped to the far-away homes of some of his
people, where he lived happily to a ripe and well-beloved old age.
It was well that he thus escaped, for very soon after he left the room the
soldiers fired upon his warriors and slew every one. It appeared that some white
man had been slain and the soldiers, instead of finding out who had committed
the crime, took this wicked and summary vengeance upon all the Indians for a
wrong action of
which they knew nothing.
Original
notes:
The Sacramento River was called by the Wintuns, "Bo-ha Mem," "Big
River," or "All Rivers Gathered Into One"; the Little Sacramento,
"Nomp-ti-pom Mem," or "River of the West Ground"; the Pitt
River, "Pu-e-ta pom Mem," or "River of the East Ground." It
was the largest river to the East known to the Wintuns. The McCloud River was
known by two names, vis.: "To-pi Mem" or "The Valuable and Much
Coveted River," and "Wi-num Mem," or "The Middle
River," flowing as it did between the Little Sacramento and the Pitt.
Footnotes:
1. George Wharton James was born in Lincolnshire, England in
1858, immigrating to the United States in 1881 and serving the next few years as
a Methodist minister. He became enchanted with the southwest and the native
people of the area, and wrote numerous books, articles, and pamphlets on the
area and the culture of the
Indian people. A recognized authority on basketry and weaving, James served as
the editor of the California Indian Herald and was active in matters involving
Indian rights.
2. The Big Dipper.
3. Lassen Peak, 10,457 ft (3,187 m) high, is officially an
active volcano even though the last major eruption occurred in 1914; it was
intermittently active until 1921. The peak was a prominent landmark in the
mid-1800s for westward travelers to California.
4. Alfred C. Gillis belonged to the Wintun tribe of Heroult,
Shasta County, California. He was an active member of the Indian Board of
Co-operation and served on its Advisory Board. He also chaired the local
auxiliary of that organization. Gillis frequently toured the California area
with Edward Wharton James, editor of the California
Indian Herald, to promote Indian rights. Often on these tours, Gillis would
entertain audiences with his singing of traditional Indian songs.
As told by Alfred C. Gillis [4], a Wintun Indian, and Recorded by George Wharton
James [1]
Three California Writers
Edited by Cindy Beck
© American Native Press Archives and Sequoyah Research Center