[In the following excerpt, which was first presented as a paper at the 1976 Symposium of the American Ethnological Society, Miller explores Eastman's ambivalence toward his cultural identity as evidenced in his written works.]

Since 1893, Eastman had been writing stories and remembrances of his childhood, primarily for his own children, which his wife polished and submitted to magazines like St. Nicholas and Harpers. Soon he began to gain a literary reputation, and to think of writing books. In 1900, he was appointed Agency Physician at Crow Creek Reservation, South Dakota, and in 1902 his first book, Indian Boyhood, was published. But due to political problems in 1902 he became the center of a controversial investigation, with his personal reputation at stake. He remained in government service only through the aid of Hamlin Garland, who was attempting to obtain standard surnames for Indians as a means of protecting their property rights. Garland, convinced Eastman was the man to rename the Sioux, obtained his transfer from Crow Creek to this special project. Although Eastman was occasionally lecturing and writing articles, which he assembled later as books, he worked as Renaming Clerk through 1909.

By 1910, at fifty-one years of age, Eastman remained in many ways a frustrated and disillusioned man, still not having found his "place" in life. In his restlessness, he sought some sort of renewal of identity:

Early in the summer of 1910 the 'call of the wild' in me became very insistent, and I decided to seek once more in this region (northern Minnesota) the half obliterated and forgotten trails of my forefathers. I began to see the vision of real camp fires, the kind I knew in my boyhood days. So I hastily prepared for a dive into the wilderness, and on a morning in June found myself upon the pine-clad shores of Leech Lake, impatient to reach a remote camp of Indians on Bear Island, twenty five miles away.

Funded by the University of Pennsylvania Museum to conduct several months of fieldwork collecting folklore texts and museum artifacts, Eastman encountered the Ojibways of the lakes of Northern Minnesota, the hereditary enemies of his Sioux forefathers. Yet in visiting the north woods which he described as the "only one region left in which a few roving bands of North American Indians still hold civilization at bay," Eastman found the new sense of identity and spiritual renewal as an "Indian" that he was seeking. Eastman's writing upon his return from the wilderness became more philosophical, reflecting the depth of his experience in his reunion with nature. Although he wrote several articles about the events of the trip to the north country, the fall of 1910 was spent writing The Soul of The Indian. In this, his most expressive and articulate essay, Eastman created a text for understanding himself:

Long before I ever heard of Christ, or saw a white man, I had learned from an untutored woman the essence of morality. With the help of dear Nature herself, she taught me things simple but of mighty import. I knew God. I perceived what goodness is. I saw and loved what is really beautiful. Civilization has not taught me anything better!

As a child, I understood how to give; I have forgotten that grace since I became civilized. I lived the natural life, whereas I now live the artificial. Any pretty pebble was valuable to me then; every growing tree an object of reverence. Now I worship with the white man before a painted landscape whose value is estimated in dollars! Thus the Indian is reconstructed, as the natural rocks are ground to powder and made into artificial blocks which may be built into the walls of modern society.

The first American mingled with his pride a singular humility. Spiritual arrogance was foreign to his nature and teaching. He never claimed that the power of articulate speech was proof of superiority over the dumb creation; on the other hand, it is to him a perilous gift. He believes profoundly in silence—the sign of perfect equilibrium. Silence is the absolute poise of balance of body, mind, and spirit. The man who preserves his selfhood ever calm and unshaken by the storms of existence—not a leaf, as it were, astir on the tree; not a ripple upon the surface of shining pool—his, in the mind of the unlettered sage, is the ideal attitude and conduct of life.

In The Soul of the Indian Eastman created his own ideal of Indian-ness, very different from White American society. But Eastman was not unaware of "social evolutionism" as espoused by Spencer and Sumner. He examined the Indian in light of the inevitability of "civilization" over the "savage." In his writing Indians were referred to as "they," never "we." Eastman saw himself as set apart from his own people by education and life experiences. He subscribed to the notion that the "noble savage" with the "natural" virtue of close proximity to nature was on a low, simple, and pristine rung of the ladder of evolution to "civilization." In a sense he was scarred by western science and philosophy. As a marginal Indian and a marginal member of White society, Eastman felt uncomfortable with his status and sought in some way to resolve the ambiguity of his position. He believed that if his White readers could only understand the beauty and truth of the Indian way of life and learn to emulate the quality of truth found in it, a higher, more sensitive morality would eventually prevail in the larger American society.

However in all of Eastman's writings, many of them published repeatedly, first as articles and then as chapters in his books, he sought to teach and explain details about the native American way of life. In most of his early work he attempted to relate for young children the tales and stories of his childhood and the general folklore and woodlore of the Sioux. But were these stories or details intended to be ethnographic? For example, in the account from Indian Boyhood entitled "Hakadah's First Offering," Eastman was careful to avoid potential criticism by omitting the ethnographic detail that the dog which he had to give up to his grandmother was to be eaten. Eastman, in explaining the sacrifice of his playmate, implied that its only function was to deny the importance of material possessions and to appease the Great Mystery. He thus misled his reader by censoring an important ethnographic detail from his description. On the other hand, his 1893 address "Sioux Mythology," delivered before the World Columbian Exposition in Chicago and reprinted in abbreviated form in Popular Science Monthly in 1894, was very important because it was Eastman's first scholarly presentation before a professional audience, in which he offered a succinct description of the key concepts of reasoning important to the Sioux in their view of the world. Included were the roles of death, religion, health, and medicine, and the behavior of animals as a model for proper human behavior. Among his first attempts to relate cultural values and concepts, this article remains his most ethnographically insightful.

Eastman conceived of himself as a "rememberer" much like his childhood teachers, his grandmother, and Smokey Days, the story teller. In this sense he saw himself to be a folk historian or recorder rather than an academic. In the foreword to The Soul of the Indian, he says:

My little book does not pretend to be a scientific treatise. It is as true as I can make it to my childhood teaching and ancestral ideals, but from the human, not the ethnological standpoint. I have not cared to pile up more dry bones, but to clothe them with flesh and blood. So much as has been written by strangers of our ancient faith and worship treats it chiefly as matter of curiosity. I should like to emphasize its universal quality, its personal appeal!

During the twenty-five years of his literary career, an increasing tone of anti-intellectualism emerged. He rejected the intellectual and academic aspects of anthropology and history. He sought "human" and "personal" explanations. For example, in January of 1907 in St. Louis, Eastman contended that in all his childhood no word existed for an arrow-head made of flint. Because he had never heard the practice of flint knapping discussed and had never seen flint worked in his childhood, he rejected the idea that flint "arrowheads" were ever made by Indians. In the same address he denied that the Mound Builders had ever existed, maintaining that mounds were really battlefields, formed by the accumulation of dirt and sand over time. He also contended on the basis of his own knowledge of Sioux tradition that many theories of ethnology and archaeology could not be true. Although recognizing various ethnologists as contributors to knowledge, nowhere in print does he discuss adequately his opinion of the validity of anthropology or its study of the American Indian.

The most historically oriented article of Eastman's career appeared in The Chatauquan in July 1900, and was entitled "The Story of the Little Big Horn (Told From the Indian Standpoint by one of Their Race)." Writing the article while he was Outing Agent at Carlisle Indian School, Eastman contended that most accounts have exaggerated the number of Dakota and Cheyenne that were needed to engage and defeat Custer. Although the article was undocumented, his account appears to include the reminiscences of many of the warriors mentioned in the article.

The battle of the Little Big Horn was a Waterloo for General Custer and the last effective defense of the Black Hills by the Sioux. It was a fair fight. Custer offered battle and was defeated. He was clearly out-generaled at his own stratagem. Had he gone down just half a mile farther and crossed the stream where Crazy Horse did a few minutes later, he might have carried out his plan of surprising the Indian village and taking the Indian warriors at a disadvantage in the midst of their women and children.

Was it a massacre? Were Custer and his men sitting by their camp-fires when attacked by the Sioux? Was he disarmed and then fired upon? No. Custer had followed the trail of these Indians for two days, and finally overtook them. He found and met just the Indians he was looking for. He had a fair chance to defeat the Sioux, had his support materialized, and brought their entire force to bear upon the enemy in the first instance.

I reiterate that there were not twelve thousand to fifteen thousand Indians at that camp, as has been represented: nor were there over a thousand warriors in the fight. It is not necessary to exaggerate the number of the Indians engaged in the notable battle. The simple truth is that Custer met the combined forces of the hostiles, which were greater than his own, and that he had not so much underestimated their numbers as their ability.

In many of Eastman's writings, including Red Hunters and the Animal People (1904), Old Indian Days (1915), and Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains (1920), he gives much detail about the Sioux and their Algonquian neighbors and enemies. His sources must have included more than simple childhood memories. He apparently utilized interviews such as the ones conducted with the Ojibway in the summer of 1910. These interviews apparently were carried on with Indians of note whenever and wherever the opportunity arose. For the Little Big Horn article he undoubtedly had collected data for a number of years. While at Pine Ridge Agency in 1891-92, he and his wife had invited many Indians in for evening suppers and long sessions of story telling. Among those who visited from time to time were George Sword and American Horse, and possibly, Red Cloud. In 1896, Eastman visited the Oak Lake Reserve near Brandon, Manitoba, and saw many of the relatives he had left behind in 1873. He was able to see the elder of his two uncles again. Both these uncles had been at the Battle of the Little Big Horn. Joseph White Foot Print Eastman undoubtedly filled Charles in on the history of his people since 1873, and details of the battle were surely included. Later, during his period as Renaming Clerk (1903-1909), he talked with many old warriors including Rain-in-the-Face, whom he met and interviewed two months before the old man's death on Standing Rock Reservation. By such interviews he gained additional information that eventually was blended with the memories of his childhood. But his "fieldwork" methods were unsystematic and disorganized, as was his writing method itself.

One of Eastman's nieces related that while writing Red Hunters and the Animal People (1904), he would walk the woods alone in the mornings beside Bald Eagle Lake, Minnesota, where the family lived during the summer of 1903. Carrying a small note pad, he would jot notes of ideas as inspirations came to him. Returning around noon, he would explain his ideas to his wife, who then, under Charles' supervision, developed the ideas into prose, typing a draft for additional corrections and polishing. Elaine was indispensable to her husband's writing: after his separation from her in 1921, he published nothing new.

Because he was neither an intellectual nor an academic, Eastman blurred and distorted much of the data he presented. He contributed little new ethnographic information. The redeeming value of writings such as The Soul of the Indian (1911) and Indan Scout Talks (1914) was that an attempt was made in them to describe what it meant to be an Indian when the historical and environmental backdrop of the frontier wilderness was disappearing. Undoubtedly Eastman's relatives had been among the first to assimilate trade goods and new ideas such as literacy and settled life from the Euro-Americans. But Eastman saw the need to redefine the essence of Indian identity and, thus, a type of moral character. He joined the ranks of Americans who between 1900 and 1920 were turning to the out-of-doors for relaxation and inspiration. Many of the national parks were being established, summer camps for children and adults were appearing, and conservation measures were developing to maintain and cultivate "America the Beautiful." Groups such as the Camp Fire Girls, and the Boy and Girl Scouts, as well as increasing numbers of Indian hobbyists and enthusiasts, turned to the Heritage of the American Indian to learn moral and practical lessons about the out-of-doors.

Eastman heartily endorsed the outdoor movement. He wrote articles such as "Education Without Books" (1912) and "What Can the Out-of-Doors Do for Children" (1921). During the summer of 1914, he was employed as the camp director of a large Boy Scout camp near Chesapeake Bay in Maryland. Throughout the summer he compiled ideas for chapters to his book Indian Scout Talks (1914) which he dedicated as a guide for Boy Scouts and Camp Fire Girls. His essay, "At Home with Nature," suggests the extent of his feeling for the natural life:

To be in harmony with nature, one must be true in thought, free in action, and clean in body, mind, and spirit. This is the solid granite foundation of character.

Have you ever wondered why most great men were born in humble homes and passed their early youth in the open country? There a boy is accustomed to see the sun rise and set every day; there rocks and trees are personal friends, and his geography is born within him, for he carries a map of the region in his head. In civilization there are many deaf ears and blind eyes. Because the average boy in the town has been deprived of close contact and intimacy with nature, what he learns from books he soon forgets, or is unable to apply. All learning is a dead language to him who gets it second hand.

It is necessary that you should live with nature, my boy friend, if only that you may verify to your own satisfaction your school room lessons. Further than this you may be able to correct some error, or even to learn something that will be a real contribution to the sum of human knowledge. That is by no means impossible to a sincere observer. In the great laboratory of nature there are endless secrets yet to be discovered.

We will follow the Indian method, for the American Indian is the only man I know who accepts natural things as lessons in themselves, direct from the Great Giver of Life.

Neither an intellectual nor a great scholar, Charles Alexander Eastman tasted both success and failure. His readers, especially children, loved his stories and he was seen by many as an interpreter of one way of life to another. Whether he was an ethnographer is dubious. He sought a different level of meaning in terms of "personal appeal." He attempted to define ideals, moral codes, sex roles, mythology and cosmology; and finally, he attempted to influence White civilization by his version of the contribution of his Indian heritage. By teaching and even helping to invent a new conception of the American Indian, Eastman wanted American society to learn about itself using the mirror provided by the first Americans.

David Reed Miller, "Charles Alexander Eastman, Santee Sioux, 1858-1939," in American Indian Intellectuals, edited by Margot Liberty, West Publishing Co., 1978, pp. 61-73.