A long time ago, a really long time when the world
was still freshly made, Unktehi the water monster fought the people
and caused a great flood. Perhaps the Great Spirit, Wakan Tanka, was
angry with us for some reason. Maybe he let Unktehi win out because he
wanted to make a better kind of human being.
Well, the waters got higher and higher. Finally everything was flooded
except the hill next to the place where the sacred red pipestone
quarry lies today. The people climbed up there to save themselves, but
it was no use. The water swept over that hill. Waves tumbled the rocks
and pinnacles, smashing them down on the people. Everyone was killed,
and all the blood jelled, making one big pool.
The blood turned to pipestone and created the pipestone quarry, the
grave of those ancient ones. That's why the pipe, made of that red
rock, is so sacred to us. Its red bowl is the flesh and blood of our
ancestors, its stem is the backbone of those people long dead, the
smoke rising from it is their breath. I tell you, that pipe, that *chanunpa*,
comes alive when used in a ceremony; you can feel power flowing from
it.
Unktehi, the big water monster, was also turned to stone. Maybe
Tunkshila, the Grandfather Spirit, punished her for making the flood.
Her bones are in the Badlands now. Her back forms a long high ridge,
and you can see her vertebrae sticking out in a great row of red and
yellow rocks. I have seen them. It scared me when I was on that ridge,
for I felt Unktehi. She was moving beneath me, wanting to topple me.
Well, when all the people were killed so many generations ago, one
girl survived, a beautiful girl. It happened this way: When the water
swept over the hill where they tried to seek refuge, a big spotted
eagle, Wanblee Galeshka, swept down and let her grab hold of his feet.
With her hanging on, he flew to the top of a tall tree which stood on
the highest stone pinnacle in the Black Hills. That was the eagle's
home. It became the only spot not covered with water.
If the people had gotten up there, they would have survived, but it
was a needle-like rock as smooth and steep as the skyscrapers you got
now in the big cities. My grandfather told me that maybe the rock was
not in the Black Hills; maybe it was the Devil's Tower, as white men
call it , that place in Wyoming.
Both places are sacred. Wanblee kept that beautiful girl with him and
made her his wife. There was a closer connection then between people
and animals, so he could do it. The eagle's wife became pregnant and
bore him twins, a boy and a girl. She was happy, and said:
"Now we will have people again. *Washtay*, it is good."
The children were born right there, on top of that cliff. When the
waters finally subsided, Wanblee helped the children and their mother
down from his rock and put them on the earth, telling them: Be a
nation, become a great Nation – the Lakota Oyate."
The boy and girl grew up. He was the only man on earth, she the only
woman of child-bearing age. They married; they had children. A nation
was born.
So we are descended from the eagle. We are an eagle nation. That is
good, something to be proud of, because the eagle is the wisest of
birds. He is the Great Spirit's messenger; he is a great warrior. That
is why we always wore the eagle plume, and still wear it. We are a
great nation.
It is I, Lame Deer, who said this. .
