{"id":40526,"date":"2026-11-04T01:01:58","date_gmt":"2026-11-04T06:01:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/unitedresourceconnection.org\/cannon-ball-nd-58528\/a-book-review-of-sorts-the-last-contrary\/"},"modified":"2026-11-04T01:02:03","modified_gmt":"2026-11-04T06:02:03","slug":"a-book-review-of-sorts-the-last-contrary","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/unitedresourceconnection.org\/cannon-ball-nd-58528\/a-book-review-of-sorts-the-last-contrary\/","title":{"rendered":"A Book Review of sorts\u2013 The Last Contrary"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\"\"<\/a>This is not a classic book review. Rather, it comes from the heart and personal experience in recommending The Last Contrary, a rare and hard to find book, published in 1989 by the Center for Western Studies, Augustana College, South Dakota written by Warren E. Schwartz about my grandfather Wesley Whiteman, Northern Cheyenne, Cheyenne name Black Bear.<\/p>\n

A confusing thing in my life has been being a half-breed Cheyenne. That word is no longer politically acceptable but is still a live word, used often and we, the wearers of that word, fully know what it means.<\/p>\n

I was not born on the Reservation but in Fallon and Terry, Montana, southeastern part of the State, the site where the Cheyenne under Little Wolf and his band of a 126 people \u00a0finally surrendered to General Miles after more than 1,000 miles of flight from Oklahoma where the Northern Cheyenne were banished, dying like flies and thus had to leave, preferring, if they must to die \u2018up north\u2019.<\/p>\n

Those communities lay on \u00a0the banks of the Yellowstone River, important locale in our tribal history. The Cheyenne call it Elk River \u2013 good place to hunt elk. Both of those small towns are named after General George Armstrong loyal lieutenants who lost their lives at the Battle of the Little Big Horn.\u00a0 Some folks in that area still hold grudge against the Cheyenne and Sioux about that. Sometimes, they remind.<\/p>\n

Starting at about age eight, my younger brother Tom and I were shipped to the reservation to spend summer with Great-grandmother Alice Kinzel, a Cheyenne woman of high standing in the community. Mom wanted us to know about being Cheyenne. Tom decided not to take to it because the Mormons got a hold of him, but I inhaled it.<\/p>\n

Grandma Alice (Cheyenne name Peppermint Woman) was raising several grandchildren and very strict.\u00a0 For example, we did not go anywhere off the Kinzel ranch except for church and sometimes the Big Store, the only trading post in the remote area, which accepted credit against lease money.\u00a0 Then we had to behave or she would \u2018get after us\u2019. So, I did not know very many of my relatives.\u00a0 Mostly Pat and Rose and their little brother Floyd Highwalker, cousins who lived nearby, but mostly camped at Grandmas house. \u00a0\u00a0Over time we became more than cousins. We were sisters and he was our irritating little brother.<\/p>\n

One day Grandma summoned me.\u00a0 She braided my long hair real tight; told me to wash my hands, use a nail brush to get the dirt out from fingernails and gave me a blue starched shirt to wear. \u00a0\u201cDon\u2019t get it dirty,\u201d she said before demanding \u201cCome with me.\u201d\u00a0 We went out to the old Ford which she knew how to drive.\u00a0 On the other side of Lame Deer, we pulled off the highway. A small clap board house sat off the road.\u00a0 There wasn\u2019t a road leading to it, only a footpath, but Grandma navigated that. Very bumpy.<\/p>\n

An old Cheyenne man, white-headed and slightly bent over came out.\u00a0 Grandma told me \u201cget out and mind your manners.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBlack Bear,\u2019 she greeted, shaking his hand.\u00a0 \u201cThis is one of your granddaughters.\u00a0 I brought her over here so you can get to know each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

Black Bear smiled and said \u201cNea\u2019se\u201d (thank you).\u00a0<\/p>\n

Grandma said, \u201cI\u2019ll be back later,\u201d as she clambered into the Ford and left me there. All alone with a strange old man. Yikes!<\/p>\n

At Grandmas house, we were a noisy brood.\u00a0 She was forever saying words in Cheyenne: Sit down!\u201d Be quiet! Don\u2019t do that!\u2014and most of all\u2014Listen!<\/em> Then, you, the child, better do that! Thus, I knew those words by heart in Cheyenne. Not too much else about Cheyenne talk, until in later years determined to learn more.<\/p>\n

Black Bear went back inside his house, but held the door open, beckoned and said in Cheyenne: \u201cCome in.\u201d I figured that out. More new words.<\/p>\n

His house was very small and extremely tidy. There was a single cot covered with a Hudson\u2019s Bay wool blanket; a table and two chairs; a cupboard; a small work station by a wood stove graced with a tin wash basin, a water bucket and a towel hanging nearby; a few clothes were also hanging on nails and there were three lanterns, necessary due to lack of electricity. I noticed a large tin box, later learning it was a bread box because mice like bread and crackers too. He did not have a refrigerator; neither were there any curtains on the two windows. He, unlike other Cheyenne was not afraid of the spirits who might peek in from time to time, curious ones, not dangerous as he later told me. Others were afraid and thus closed their curtains every night.<\/p>\n

He motioned for me to sit down, reinforcing that in Cheyenne. I knew that word. \u201cYou like tea?\u201d he smiled.<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

He went about filling a tea pot, built a small fire in the wood stove and said;\u201d It will take a little while.\u201d He then dug into his shirt pocket and produced two white and red striped peppermint candies, handing one to me. \u201cDon\u2019t crunch it. Suck it. It will last longer.\u201d<\/p>\n

I obeyed.<\/p>\n

Then he produced a deck of cards, kind of fuzzy, well worn. \u201cKnow how to play rummy?\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded no.<\/p>\n

\u201cWant to learn?\u201d<\/p>\n

Affirmative nod.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is a tricky game,\u201d he explained.\u00a0 \u201cYou have to count things.\u00a0 See these cards? Half are red and half are black. Maybe half-breed cards, \u201che joked.\u00a0 \u201cThey match up. Some are hearts, red colored; some are diamonds, red too; some are black, like a shovel and others like a black flower.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded.\u00a0 That made sense.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe trick is to match them\u201d he continued. \u201cThree of same colors and shape in row, like one-two-three. Or you can get three-of-all kinds of all colors, like three kings, three sevens. When you have something like that lay it down, counts for points. Got it? We earn points and first one to 500 wins.<\/p>\n

Of course, I didn\u2019t, but nodded yes anyway.<\/p>\n

Right then the teapot started whistling.\u00a0 He carefully made two cups of tea and opened the tin box to retrieve two Saylor crackers. They are big, round and hard.\u00a0 \u201cThis is Indun tea,\u201d he said. \u00a0\u201dMaybe, someday I will show you how to get it.\u201d He smiled so kindly.<\/p>\n

I mutely nodded again.<\/p>\n

Then came the lesson on how to properly eat Saylors. First, break it in half so it will fit in the teacup for dunking.\u00a0 Let it soak to soften up, savor it slowly and be thankful to have something to eat. Sometimes, as he explained, Cheyenne did not have the opportunity to eat.<\/p>\n

Jest then, Grandma showed up, honking the Ford horn.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have to go now,\u201d he smiled gently tugging one of my braids.\u00a0 \u201cMaybe you come around sometime to see an old man?\u201d<\/p>\n

He never ever said things like \u201cshould or will.\u201d Instead, he always suggested \u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Again, affirmative nod.<\/p>\n

That was the beginning of a very special relationship with my grandfather who was Black Bear, Wesley Whiteman, the subject of The Last Contrary.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>I learned so much from him because he never insisted that I learn. It is profound that they could not start the Sun Dance without him, but he didn\u2019t talk about things like that. Instead, he told funny stories and jokes and always had those peppermint candies.<\/p>\n

Let me explain Contrary as he explained it to me. They are very afraid of Lighting and Thunder, very powerful spirits. As a child, Grandma Wesley would cower, hiding under the bed when that occurred. But, his father and others advised him to \u201cFace it.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

There is only one Cheyenne way to really get over that. Take a vow (those last for four years). Contrary way, you must do everything backwards, make yourself the fool. For example, if you are cold and hungry, you say something like \u201cI am so hot and my belly is full\u201d. If riding a horse, you would leap on with face pointed to the tail and steer it that way. If you loved someone, you might say, \u201cDo not care for you\u201d. On and on. The Cheyenne who knew about that would figure it out.<\/p>\n

He did that, which took much courage and I presume that was very, very hard. He was the last one among the Northern Cheyenne who was strong enough to do that \u2013 hence \u2013 The Last Contrary. Now, many young Cheyenne think that is myth. Not so. Perhaps it is now, because I cannot think of a single Cheyenne today who could or would have the wherewithal to do that.<\/p>\n

That is when a person investigates and lives the depths of humility, basically making themselves a clown. Clowns, of course play an important role by making people laugh, temporarily forgetting troubles. However, he did, gaining some power but seldom, if ever, spoke about it. Awesome. Unheard of. Old, old, old time thing, since never duplicated. The last one to do it. He used that power carefully, but did advise me, \u201cDon\u2019t be afraid of thunder and lightning. They are just showing off, trying to scare people. Don\u2019t fall for it like I did.\u201d<\/p>\n

One time I asked him if I was a real Cheyenne.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou cannot pick who you are or how you look. Ma\u2019 heo\u2019o (Creator) decides that and he always has a reason. You are goot l<\/em>ooking,\u201d he smiled. \u201cMaybe he made you a go-between. Sometimes whites and Induns don\u2019t understand each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was good enough for me. Years later, I discovered what he meant. I had to walk two roads and find out where they met. And then, try to translate that. Both ways. Sometimes I can. Sometimes not.<\/p>\n

I did learn how to play rummy from him, at a penny a point, and it only took about five years to finally beat him in a game. In the meantime, I did learn where to find, how to harvest and make proper Indun tea.\u00a0 How much better can it get?<\/p>\n

We, the Whiteman family on my mother\u2019s side, are so thankful that a young white man, a writer from the Smithsonian became infatuated with Black Bear. He lived with Grandpa for two summers in order to catch his spirit and pen the book, The Last Contrary.<\/p>\n

Every Cheyenne, especially our young ones, or those interested in the Cheyenne, should read The Last Contrary to gain insight into the most important values we have: kindness and humility. Or you could call it love for fellow Human Beings, no matter what color you are or how you look.<\/p>\n

The book is hard to come by, being out of print, but a friend of mine found one on Amazon books. The Northern Cheyenne Community College library has one in its reference section. We\u2019re going to work on getting it more readily available to our local community. I have a copy, autographed in his spidery hand to \u201cmy granddaughter\u2019, those remains now nearly falling apart from having been read so much. He revealed more to Schwartz than to me! Nobody can borrow it. It is one of my greatest treasures.<\/p>\n

(Clara Caufield can be reached @acheyennereview@gmail.com)<\/p>\n

The post A Book Review of sorts\u2013 The Last Contrary<\/a> first appeared on Native Sun News Today<\/a>.<\/p>\n

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Visit Original Source<\/a><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

<\/span><\/div>

This is not a classic book review. Rather, it comes from the heart and personal experience in recommending The Last Contrary, a rare and hard to find book, published in 1989 by the Center for Western Studies, Augustana College, South Dakota written by Warren E. Schwartz about my grandfather Wesley <\/p>\n

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Shared by Native Sun News Today<\/a> November 4, 2026<\/p>\n

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