Nebraskaland

48 Nebraskaland • November 2020 MIXED BAG Maybe I should have titled this essay "The Indian Almanac," because the "calendar" for Plains Indians before the arrival of the white man held a lot more information than our modern, conventional wall calendars do. The idea of "time" for the modern Nebraskan has only recently narrowed down to hours and minutes; there wasn't much of a need for second-by-second precision, or for that matter day-by-day, on either side of the frontier for pioneers nor Indians. But for the tribes, there was nonetheless a need to know when certain religious festivals should be held, the right time to prepare for the twice annual buff alo hunts, and the optimum times to plant and harvest crops or wild foods. Some tribes, for example the Pawnee, were particularly interested in astronomy and knew far more about celestial events than the average Nebraskan today. They kept track of the appearances of the morning and evening stars, phases of the moon, positions of constellations, and where the sun would be in the sky at any particular time of the day and year — things most Nebraskans have little need to pay attention to today, and therefore scarcely do. They watched the various stages and conditions of plants for information about what they could expect was going on with other plants, or with their neighbors, the "four-leggeds." As Melvin Gilmore noted in his important book, Uses of Plants by the Indians of the Missouri River Region, "Goldenrod as ... a sign in their fl oral calendar. They said that its time of blooming was synchronous with the ripening of the corn; so when they were on the summer buff alo hunt on the Platte River or Republican River, far from their homes or fi elds, the sight of the goldenrod as it began to bloom caused them to say, 'Now our corn is beginning to ripen at home.'" And they watched the movements of animals — migrations, nest and lodge building, molting and shedding — for indications of when and where diff erent foods would be most abundant or prime for harvest. Plains Indians, even farming cultures like the Pawnee or Omaha, were often on the move. Imagine, then, one Pawnee telling another when he would like to meet him the next year to exchange pipestone for fl int. Or a chief of one band arranging with another for the villages or bands to convene to renew their cultural relationships. And maybe provide courting opportunities for the young people and gossip forums for elders. One could simply say the two would come together just below the forks of the "Plenty Potatoes River" (Loup) shortly after the "Birds That Look At The Sky" (sandhill cranes) left the area, when the turkeys were hatching their broods, or when the planting moon was brightest. Those observations would have provided plenty of information for a successful meeting. Arrangements like that might take more patience than we have today, but that's a good reason, I suggest, for us to consider slowing down and paying less attention to the tyranny of calendar and clock, even — or especially — in these days of constant scrambling. Maybe we should ignore clocks and calendars now and then. "Meet you on the patio sometime tomorrow about the time the sun is eight fi ngers above the western horizon." That would do it. Or how about, "Let's get everyone together for a campout at the big lake on the broad water when the ironweed is in bloom and the moon is full." Roger Welsch is an author, humorist, folklorist and a former essayist for CBS News Sunday Morning. He has been contributing to Nebraskaland Magazine since 1977. THE INDIAN CALENDAR: BUT HOW DO I REMEMBER OUR ANNIVERSARY? By Roger Welsch A nearly 300-year-old Skidi Pawnee Indian star chart on hide. The vertical line in the center represents the Milky Way.

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