It's called "The Lost Journal of Sacajawea," by Debra Magpie Earling, and is for sale here for only $4500. And there's not even a "But wait, there's more!" to entice me further. It doesn't need one; the passion I've developed for this remarkable, mysterious woman and her story is enough:
The more I learn about Sacajawea, the more I'm intrigued with her. My admiration for her is probably more than I have for almost every other woman in history. Her bravery goes beyond simple description.
The story goes that Sacajawea was kidnapped from the Lemhi Shoshone by the Hidatsa tribe when she was young. I don't know why, or if she really was kidnapped (controversy abounds), but when Lewis and Clark arrived on the scene, Sacajawea was married to a scoundrel jerk of a Quebecois trapper named Charbonneau, who had already got the little girl (only 13!) pregnant. There are some accounts that say Charbonneau won Sacajawea gambling. Here's an artist's depiction of who I call "Ole Smelly":
Can you imagine how terrified this little girl was? First, she was kidnapped by a hostile tribe in a raid that killed some of her home tribe. Did she wonder if she was to be killed as well? Then, apparently something about her endeared her to her captors, because she was still alive when Charbonneau "won" her. What another terrifying experience this must have been, to be forced into the hands of a nasty, mean man probably twice her age. Sacajawea was not much older than this little girl:
But Sacajawea was a survivor. She lived up to her name, which may not have been Sacajawea at all (I'll go into this later), and she probably held that secret close to her heart.
She knew both the Shoshoni and Hidatsa dialect, so she was a valuable asset to Lewis and Clark. Her husband was put on the payroll and she and her husband became part of the team.
A legend was born in the moment Sacajawea stepped out of her camp with the white men. Apparently, she was probably the biggest asset the team of bumblers had. She is not mentioned much, but when she is, it is when she's being praised for saving everyone's butt. She's the reason the journals of Lewis and Clark survive for us to read. When their canoe capsized, Lewis was quick to point out,
“the Indian woman to whom I ascribe equal fortitude and resolution, with any person
onboard at the time of the accedent, caught and preserved most of the light articles which were washed overboard all matters being now arranged for our departure we lost no time in setting out..."
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| The moment just before Lewis saw a squirrel and tipped the canoe. |
She was also credited with finding "lickerish" and "white apples," which I affectionately call "tatoes." And when the expedition was complete, she wasn't paid a penny, or even recognized for all she did. Come on! She found POTATOES and CANDY!
Maybe the biggest injustice done to Sacajawea was that, according to some accounts, her name was misinterpreted, and she was not "Bird Woman," at all.
Instead, her name was Sakakewea, which means "Eagle Woman." I like to think of Eagle Woman more like this:
Big difference, huh? To the Native Americans, names were extremely important. They embodied the soul of the person, and often changed as the child grew to reflect their personal experiences and accomplishments. Today's American equivalent would be the NICKNAME.
To me, "Bird Woman" is an insult when your real name is "Eagle Woman." To make it worse, even Bird Woman became "Janey" on the journey. Not only was she not Eagle anymore, she was stuck with a white person's nickname, and who knows what that name meant? To Sakakewea, Janey might have meant "Nobody."
This is how I picture the introduction of Sacajawea to Lewis and Clark:
Charbonneau: This is my wife, Sacajawea, Bird Woman.
Sakakawea: No, actually my name is Sakakawea, Eagle Woman.
Lewis: Welcome, Sacajawea.
Sakakewea: Sakakawea. It's Sakakewea.
Clark: Welcome, Sacajawea.
Sakakawea: No, no, no. It's SAKAKAWEA. I am not a bird! I am an eagle, who soars the skies and rips to shreds anyone who oppose me! I am strong, I am brave. I am not Tweety. I am EAGLE.
The whole Band of adventurers: Welcome, Sacajawea.
Sakakawea: (rolling her eyes and shaking her head) I give up. Have it your way, idiots.
There are no definite photos of Sakakawea. But I like these renderings. I don't know the artists of any of the paintings on this post, but they are all in the public domain, and they are all excellent.
After Lewis and Clark, the life of Sakakawea is shrouded in mystery. She may have died at just 25 years old of "putrid fever" (Typhus). One alleged grave site is here (claiming she died in 1884, not 1812), on the Wind River Reservation in Wyoming:
I would really like to lay a poem and a flower, and maybe a bronze eagle on her grave. Maybe I will get the chance to one day. I hope so.
However, there is some controversy surrounding her death. Some believe she actually lived to be around 100 years old, and that it is another of Charbonneau's wives who died of Typhus. I would like to believe that. The story of how she died (if the story of her living to about 100 is true) is pretty interesting, but I'll go into that and the controversy in another post (this one is getting too long).
I hope this blog post awakens a sense of the injustice done to women and the Native Americans in the past. I hope it stirs your primal instinct for the love of adventure. Now you can see why I want so desperately to read Sakakawea's Journal, if it really is written by her hand.
Despite her name or time of death, Sakakewea was brave, strong, intelligent, and displayed qualities I will always admire. She will never be a parakeet in my book. In my book, she will always be EAGLE.
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Side note: One funny thing when searching for images of Sakakawea (that's what I'm going to call her), is that among a bunch of Native American women, I found this:
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| He's definitely not Sakakawea, but that is a big fish. :) |
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