POSTINDIAN WARRIORS
fee Thomas Jefferson envisioned a water course to the west-
ern coast of the nation a decade before he proposed the expedition
that would become the most notable literature of tribal survivance.
Meriwether Lewis and William Clark were instructed that the ob-
jective of their mission was to explore the land west of the Missouri
River that “may offer the most direct & practicable water communi-
cation across this continent, for the purposes of commerce.”
Lewis and Clark reported in their journal that they wanted to be
seen by tribal people on their expedition. They were diplomatic at a
distance, to be sure, and they were certain that their mission would
have been threatened not by the presence of the other, but by the
absence of the tribes.
Luther Standing Bear, three generations later, was on an expedition
in another direction and dimension; he was one of the first tribal stu-
dents to graduate from an eastern government school. He was curious
and courageous in the presence of the other, and he was threatened
by the absence of reverence, honor, and natural reason.
Standing Bear, Lewis, Clark, and others, created the simulations
that would honor their survivance in literature. Simulations have
never been uncommon in literature, as the simulations of the other are
instances of the absence of the real, but these expeditions in at least2 MANIFEST MANNERS
two dimensions were more than the mere simulations of savagism
and civilization.
The Lewis and Clark expedition was one of the first transconti-
nental encounters with diverse tribal cultures; the encounters were
inevitable in the new nation, but the successive encroachments on
the natural presence of the tribes were vicious and barbarous. The
cruelties of national and colonial authorities were widespread; the
grievous outcome of avarice, perverse determinism, and the destinies
that would become manifest manners in the literature of dominance.
Lewis wrote in his journal on 18 July 1805, “as we were anxious
now to meet with the Sosonees or snake Indians as soon as possible
in order to obtain information relative to the geography to the coun-
try....” Four days later he wrote that Sacajawea, the “Indian woman
recognizes the country and assures us that this is the river on which
her relations live, and that the three forks are at no great distance.”
Lewis wrote on 27 July 1805, “we begin to feel considerable anxiety
with rispect to the Snake Indians. if we do not find them or some
other nation who have horses I fear the successfull issue of our voy-
age will be very doubtfull or at all events much more difficult in it’s
accomplishment.”
Then, about two weeks later, he wrote, “I was overjoyed at the
sight of this stranger and had no doubts of obtaining a friendly intro-
duction to his nation provided I could get near enough to him to
convince him of our being whitemen.” The selections are from The
Journals of Lewis and Clark, edited by Bernard DeVoto.
“Indeed, the greatest danger the Indians could pose for Lewis and
Clark arose from their absence rather than their presence,” wrote
Larzer Ziff in Writing in the New Nation. “What was later to be a
cliché in Western adventure fiction, the white man’s seeing Indians
and taking care to remain unseen by them, was reversed as they
strained to see the Indians who they knew were seeing them in order
to enter into dealings with them.”
Postindian Warriors 3
Lieutenant William Reynolds, in contrast to the earlier expedition
of Lewis and Clark, remained unseen on the deck of the Flying Fish, a
schooner in the first discovery expedition of the United States Navy.
“We never saw any one for weeks, save a few Indians now and then
who brought us Salmon and Deer and who were welcome enough,
but as to Society, after a hard day’s labour, we might as well have
been in the great desert. We did long with all our hearts to see the
face of some human creature,” he wrote to his sister on 7 November
1841, after a survey of the Columbia River.
“Once in a great while we did manage to run up to Astoria and
have a chat with the folks there, and sometimes we saw the young
wives of the missionaries, pretty, rosy checked women, the very sight
of whom gave us the heart ache. | am disgusted with all naked Indians
and primitive people whatever, and shall be too happy ... when I can
associate again with the more intelligent and attractive portion of the
human family, who carry ideas in their heads, wear clothes on their
bodies and are fair to look upon.” His aversion to the tribes would
represent the racialism of the nation; in turn, that aversion to the
presence of the tribes would become the cause of manifest manners
and the literature of dominance.
Lewis and Clark traversed the same river thirty-six years carlier
and were content to be seen by the tribes. Clark wrote in his journal
on 24 October 1805 that the “nativs of ths village re{ceJived me verry
kindly, one of whome envited me into his house, which I found to be
large and comodious, and the first wooden houses in which Indians
have lived Since we left those in the vicinity of the Illinois. . . . Peter
Crusat played on the violin and the men danced which delighted the
nativs, who Shew every civility towards us. we Smoked with those
people untill late at night, when every one retired to rest.”
Standing Bear seemed to envision the onset of the postindian war-
riors of simulations; that sensation of a new tribal presence in the very
ruins of the representations of invented Indians. “I always wanted to4 MANIFEST MANNERS
please my father in every way possible,” wrote Standing Bear in My
People the Sioux. “All his instructions to me had been along this line:
“Son, be brave and get killed.’ This expression had been moulded into
my brain to such an extent that I knew nothing else.
“My father had made a mistake. He should have told me, upon
leaving home, to go and learn all I could of the white man’s ways, and
be like them.” Luther had “come away from home with the intention
of never returning alive unless he had done something brave.
“Now, after having had my hair cut, a new thought came into my
head. I felt that I was no more Indian, but would be an imitation of
a white man. And we are still imitations of white men, and the white
men are imitations of the Americans.”
Standing Bear was in the first class to attend the federal school
at Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Later, he taught school on the reservation,
witnessed the horror of the massacre at Wounded Knee, and toured
with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show in Europe. This postindian war-
rior was active in tribal rights movements, an actor in several motion
pictures, and he wrote several books about his experiences.
The postindian warriors encounter their enemies with the same
courage in literature as their ancestors once evinced on horses, and
they create their stories with a new sense of survivance. The warriors
bear the simulations of their time and counter the manifest manners
of domination.
Manifest Destiny would cause the death of millions of tribal people
from massacres, diseases, and the loneliness of reservations. Entire
cultures have been terminated in the course of nationalism. These
histories are now the simulations of dominance, and the causes of
the conditions that have become manifest manners in literature. The
postindian simulations are the core of survivance, the new stories of
tribal courage. The simulations of manifest manners are the continu-
ance of the surveillance and domination of the tribes in literature.
Simulations are the absence of the tribal real; the postindian con-
versions are in the new stories of survivance over dominance. The
Postindian Warriors 5
natural reason of the tribes anteceded by thousands of generations
the invention of the Indian. The postindian ousts the inventions with
humor, new stories, and the simulations of survivance.
Standing Bear, for instance, had graduated from the government
school and he was working at John Wanamaker’s department store
in Philadelphia when he read in the newspaper that Sitting Bull, the
Lakota healer, was scheduled to lecture in the city. “The paper stated
that he was the Indian who killed General Custer! The chief and his
people had been held prisoners of war, and now here they were to
appear” ina theater. “On the stage sat four Indian men, one of whom
was Sitting Bull. There were two women and two children with them.
A white man came on the stage and introduced Sitting Bull as the
man who had killed General Custer,” which was not true.
Sitting Bull “addressed the audience in the Sioux tongue” and then
the white man, the interpreter, misconstrued his speech in translation.
“My friends, white people, we Indians are on our way to Washington
to see the Grandfather, or President of the United States,” and more
was translated as the story of the massacre of General Custer at the
Little Big Horn, “He told so many lies I had to smile.”
Standing Bear visited Sitting Bull at the hotel. “He wanted his chil-
dren educated in the white man’s way, because there was nothing left
for the Indian.” The interpreter was in the room, so “I did not get a
chance to tell Sitting Bull how the white man had lied about him on
the stage. And that was the last time I ever saw Sitting Bull alive.”
The postindian warriors hover at last over the ruins of tribal rep-
resentations and surmount the scriptures of manifest manners with
new stories; these warriors counter the surveillance and literature of
dominance with their own simulations of survivance. The postindian
arises from the earlier inventions of the tribes only to contravene the
absence of the real with theatrical performances; the theater of tribal
consciousness is the recreation of the real, not the absence of the real
in the simulations of dominance. ;
Manifest manners are the simulations of dominance; the notions