village, and just as we entered it we found a company of about a hundred
men engaged in dancing a _medicine_ dance, in order to propitiate the
Great Spirit, to grant them prosperity in the approaching
buffalo-hunting season, and protection from their enemies. Their naked
bodies were painted in the most grotesque manner, their hair and weapons
plumed with eagles’ feathers, and thus armed with bows and arrows,
spears, and shields, they were dancing to the beat of the drum,
intermingled with songs. Their yells rent the air, while the very earth
seemed to shake under their feet. After we had sat in the lodge a few
minutes, a dense crowd of two or three hundred children filling up the
space at the entrance, whose curiosity was probably more attracted by us
than by the dancers, a chief came forth from the dancing party, with a
whip in his hand, at sight of whom the children made for the door, but
as it took some time before the crowd could get out by the narrow
opening he commenced plying his whip most unmercifully on the naked
backs of the poor children till the entrance was cleared. We were then
informed that on account of our arrival, out of deference to us, they
would now dance outside; if, however, we wished to look at them while
dancing, we were welcome to come out and see them.—After a little while
we went out and looked at them for some time, while they were engaged in
these religious exercises. Our hearts melted, and our eyes filled with
tears at the thought of the benighted state of their minds, living
without _Christ_, and without _hope_. We were not long engaged in these
mournful reflections, when a messenger arrived inviting us to a feast.
We followed the messenger, who led us to a lodge, which we entered. Our
host, who had prepared a feast for us, was no other than the chief of
the Grand Pawnee Band, and principal chief of the whole Pawnee nation.
He received us in a very warm and affectionate manner, embraced us, and
welcomed us among his people. His name is Asseruregarrigu;—he seems to
be extremely old, on the verge of the grave, yet, in spite of his great
age, is still very much respected by his nation. After being invited to
sit down on mats, a dish of green corn soup was placed before us, which
was very palatable. The old man complained, that the corn had not been
sufficiently boiled, as he had ordered it to be put over when he heard
of our arrival, and had been anxious to be the first to welcome us by a
feast.—
Our repast being finished, we were yet invited to several feasts
prepared by the chiefs of the village, whereupon we returned to the
medicine lodge. In the evening a council of the chiefs and braves was
called, in order to inform them of the business upon which we had come
to visit them. We were received in the most cordial manner, embraced by
several of the chiefs, and after informing them of our object the
principal chief of the Pawnee tribe, aforementioned, made a reply to the
following effect: “It appears to me this evening as though I had been
dead a long time and had suddenly to-day risen from the dead,—so glad am
I to hear the news that teachers are willing to come among us, in order
to live with us and instruct us. We shall welcome you among us, and the
chiefs will see to it, that your property and cattle shall be
protected;—I hope you will come _soon_ to live with us. I am now a very
old man,—I must soon go hence; therefore come _soon_ that I may behold
the missionaries living among my people before I die.” Speeches to a
similar effect were then made by Leezikutz, chief of the Republican
band, Terrericawaw, chief of the Topages (pronounced Tuppay) band, and
two or three other inferior chiefs, which were all interpreted; and
finally a chief named Lalogehanesharn (or Fatty, as he is called by the
whites, from his corpulence, something very unusual among wild Indians)
closed by making a long appeal to the chiefs, delivered in a very loud
and sonorous voice, exhorting them to _keep_ the promises which they had
just made. “Don’t cheat,” said he; “don’t act deceitfully. You have now
promised these men that if they come to live among us you will take them
under your protection, and will always restrain your people from
molesting their property. Remember this, and now since you have made
these promises, see to it that you also keep them.” The council then
dispersed, not, however, before several chiefs had again embraced us,
whereupon we laid ourselves down in our blankets upon the mats in the
lodge for repose.
May 9th.—After breakfast we were invited to the principal chief’s lodge,
to attend a council which had been called for the purpose of listening
to the invitation sent to them by the President of the United States
through the above-mentioned agent, to attend a general council at Fort
Laramie. The Pawnees declared themselves satisfied with the offers of
government, and several speeches were then made expressive of the
prospect that ere long the condition of their people would be bettered,
especially since they might now indulge the hope of soon having teachers
among them to give them instruction. During the council a severe
thunderstorm was passing over, and while the chief, Fatty, was speaking,
after a loud peal of thunder: “See,” said he, “the Great Spirit is
pleased with us this morning and expresses his satisfaction by speaking
loudly to us!!”—At the close we were yet invited to partake of a feast
with them. A large dish of corn-soup was brought in and set before the
chiefs;—the medicine man then came forward, and, taking a spoonful of
the soup, went to the fire, and making a small hole in the ashes he
poured it in. After putting the spoon back again into the dish he
returned to the sacrifice at the fire, which was blessed thrice by
holding both hands over it; then, turning round to the assembly, and
fronting the chiefs, looking up to heaven, he stretched out his hands
thrice in silent benediction, and then returned to his seat. The dish
was then passed round, each person partaking of a mouthful or two of the
soup.
The council being over, and the thunderstorm having somewhat subsided,
towards noon we started on our return, the object of our visit to the
Pawnee villages being now fully accomplished. We had now only to retrace
our steps, as that was the nearest way for us to travel. We prepared our
coffee and lunch at the same beautiful spot, where we had halted
yesterday. In getting a fire, however, to boil our coffee, we had
considerable trouble, the matches in our pockets being damp, and the
grass and wood being all wet from the rain, which was yet falling. But
at last our Pawnee friends succeeded in finding some dry rotten wood,
which, by means of paper and powder, we succeeded in igniting. In the
evening we arrived at the Lower Village, where we staid over night at
Siskatuppe’s lodge.
May 10th.—Towards morning a very heavy thundergust passed over the
village, and the water came pouring into the lodge, from the small
opening above (which is made to let out the smoke), and the shrill
voices of the women, who seemed to be scolding one another while engaged
in cleaning up the water, disturbed us considerably in our slumbers. In
the morning the Pawnees informed us that the Platte was rising; we,
therefore, hastened to get ready for travelling, and crossed the river
without much difficulty, in the same manner as at the first time.
Arrived at the opposite bank, we made a present of some tobacco to our
Pawnee friends, for assisting us in crossing the river. A large company
of Pawnees followed us, who intended going to the Omahaw village in
order to trade for corn. When we arrived at the ferry of the Elkhorn, a
heavy gust was threatening to overtake us, and we had hardly crossed,
secured our baggage, and got into the hut of the ferrymen, when a
furious hailstorm passed over us. The rain having detained us so long,
that it was impossible to reach another camping ground by daylight, we
pitched our tent here for the night.
May 11th.—During the night, another gust passed over us, but our tent
kept us dry and comfortable. One of the ferrymen, who had arrived during
the night from Council Bluffs, informed us that the bridge across the
Papilion, over which we had passed, had been washed away by the high
water occasioned by the heavy rains, and that he had been obliged to
swim the stream, which had swollen to the size of a river. We, therefore
concluded to take another route, which would lead along a high ridge
between the Great and Little Papilion, and strike the former opposite
the Omahaw village, at the confluence of the two streams, where we hoped
to get assistance, should we find any difficulty in crossing.
When we arrived at the place, we found both streams very much swollen by
the heavy rains. Collecting some wood together, we made a fire, and
prepared our dinner, while the party of Pawnees, who had followed us,
were busied in crossing the Little Papilion, in order to get to the
Omahaw village. After we had finished our meal, and had come to the
crossing of the Great Papilion, preparations were made for getting our
wagon, baggage, and ourselves on the other side and here we found Mr.
Sharpee, who has travelled several times to the Rocky Mountains, and was
accustomed to meet with such exigencies as the present, to be of
invaluable service to us. Under his direction the tent-cloth was spread
out on the ground, upon which was placed the wagon-body. The corners of
the cloth were then laid over the body, and around the whole a rope was
tightly tied to keep the cloth firmly adhering to it. Thus a _boat_ was
soon constructed, in which the forewheels and tongue were put, and then
launched in the stream, with Mr. Sharpee and Mr. Allis on board. A rope
had previously been attached, the end of which an Indian took in his
mouth, and swam across, the boat being drawn after him. The contents
being quickly taken out on the other side, it was towed back again by
the Indian with Mr. Sharpee still in it. The second load consisted of
the hindwheels with Mr. Sharpee and br. Oehler. Meanwhile another Indian
had formed a boat of a buffalo-skin, stretched out by sticks placed
crosswise, in which the baggage was all safely transported to the other
side. The animals were driven into the stream, and forced to swim
across. Finally, the boat was brought over the third time, and br. Smith
and a lame Pawnee man were taken to the other side. When the boat had
made this its last trip, it had not leaked more than about an inch of
water. During the whole time, while we were crossing, the rain was
pouring down in torrents upon us. Having now safely gained the other
shore with all our effects, and put everything in travelling order, we
proceeded about three miles farther, when we came to a slough, which had
also been filled up by the rains. It was impossible to ford it, at the
place where the road led across. After reconnoitering a little, we found
a place where the water was fordable, but with an almost perpendicular
bank of about ten feet on the other side. The mules having been
unharnessed, Mr. Sharpee and br. Oehler took them across, although they
almost stuck fast in the mud. Mr. Allis and br. Smith then pushed the
wagon into the slough, thus forming a bridge for them to cross over. All
hands were then employed in pulling the wagon out of the mud up the
bank, till the end of the tongue reached the top, to which the
doubletree was then tied. The mules being reharnessed, and all the other
available muscular power being applied in pushing up the wagon, we
finally succeeded in getting it up on the bank. We had now yet two miles
to travel, in order to reach the Presbyterian mission station at
Bellevue, and were truly thankful that there were no more streams or
sloughs to cross. About sundown we arrived at our station, and were
heartily welcomed by Mr. McKinney and the Mission family, though our
outward appearance was not very prepossessing, our clothing being
bespattered with mud, from the various adventures of the day.—
On the 14th of May the steamboat El Paso came up the Missouri to Council
Bluffs, and on the morning of the 15th we took passage in her down the
river. On the evening of the 16th the boat arrived at Weston, and in the
afternoon of the 17th left there for Kansas, where we arrived at dark.
After breakfast on the following morning, the 18th, we proceeded to
_Westfield_, eight miles, on foot, where we arrived just as the
congregation were leaving the church after the service, which had been
held by the national assistant, Frederic Samuel—truly thankful to the
Lord to find all well at home, after an absence of nearly four weeks.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
DESCRIPTION
OF THE MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE PAWNEE INDIANS
(BY BR. D. Z. SMITH.)
BANDS OR CLANS.—All the Indian tribes are subdivided into bands or
clans. The _Pawnees_ have among them four distinct bands, viz., the
Loups (pronounced _Loos_), the Republicans, the Topages (Tuppays), and
the Grand Pawnees. Each band has at its head a Chief, among whom,
however, the Chief of the Grand Pawnees, Asseruregarrigu, is considered
the Principal Chief of the whole tribe.
VILLAGES, LOCALITIES, FORMER MISSIONARIES, &C.—The Pawnees live in two
villages at present, both on the South side of the Platte or Nebraska
river. The lower village lies about 50 miles from Bellevue, and about 10
or 15 miles above the mouth of the Elkhorn river, the first important
tributary of the Platte from the North; and the upper village is
situated about 20 or 25 miles above the lower, nearly opposite the mouth
of the Loup Fork of the Platte, the next branch of any consequence above
the Elkhorn. Both villages are situated on eminences, so that the
approach of an enemy can easily be observed, and a sharp lookout is
constantly kept in order to guard against any sudden surprise from a
hostile force. Sentinels are constantly posted on all the surrounding
heights, who can immediately by signs, known among the Indians, transmit
intelligence in case of impending danger. During the night, sentinels
are constantly perched upon the tops of the lodges, to guard against any
unexpected nocturnal attack. When we were on our return, and remained
over night at the Loup village, a report, probably a false alarm, had
reached there during the day, that a large war-party of Sioux had lately
been seen near the head waters of the Elkhorn river. During the night
sentinels were as usual posted upon the lodges, a little more noisy,
however, than generally, yelling to one another and singing, nearly the
whole night. Upon our inquiring why the sentinels made so much noise, we
were informed that it was to let the Sioux know, should they be near,
that they might not expect to find them off their guard.
Thus it will be observed that a certain kind of military organization is
constantly kept up at each village, rendered necessary by their wars
with their enemies. This unpleasant state of things can only be removed
through the benign influence of the Gospel, when “they shall beat their
swords into plough-shares, and their spears into pruning-hooks: nation
shall not lift up a sword against nation, neither shall they _learn_ war
any more. But they shall sit every man under his vine and fig-tree; and
_none_ .” (Mic. 4:3, 4.)
As hinted in a note in a previous communication, the Pawnee villages are
not located on their own land. Formerly the land on both sides of the
Platte river belonged to them. But about the year 1835 they concluded a
treaty with the United States, in which they ceded to the latter all
their territory on the South side of the river. Their villages were then
situated about 150 miles further up the Platte on the North side. The
missionaries of the A. B. C. F. M. were then residing with them, their
mission stations being situated in the vicinity of these villages. When
the Pawnees were at their homes, which is only four or five months of
the year (the remaining months being consumed on their summer and fall
hunts), the missionaries were engaged in teaching such of their children
as could be induced to attend school, and in instructing the people in
the truths of religion, as well as they could according to their limited
knowledge of the language. About six years ago, the powerful Sioux made
repeated incursions into the Pawnee country, and the strength of the
latter being very much weakened by their frequent wars with their
enemies, they were obliged to succumb, and at length forced to leave
their former location on the North side of the Platte, and to remove to
the South side, nearer to the white settlements on the Missouri river.
The missionaries, too, found it unsafe to remain, and it was thought
advisable to suspend their missionary operations among them. Mr. and
Mrs. Allis are remnants of this noble band of missionaries, and, still
cherishing the desire, that these benighted but very interesting people
might be enlightened by the gospel, have, while their fellow-laborers
have long ago left for other fields of usefulness, still lingered
behind—and toiled on, amidst many self-denials, privations and
discouragements, in doing whatever lay in their power for the good of
these Indians. Lately the government has established Fort Kearney, not
far distant from their former villages, which, it is hoped, will be a
security against future incursions, and prove a safeguard, when our
mission will once be established among them.
LANGUAGE.—The Pawnee language is said to be altogether different from
the languages of the surrounding prairie tribes. The Otoes, the Ioways,
the Osages, the Kanzas or Caws, the Omahaws, the Puncaws, etc., seem all
to speak dialects of the same language, the Dakota; while the Pawnee
language seems, by its great difference, to point back to the earliest
periods of the residence of the Indians in this country, when a
disruption may have taken place, that formed them into a distinct
nation.
POPULATION, LODGES, etc.—The lower village consists of about 80 lodges,
with a population of nearly 2,500; and in the upper village there are
between 140 and 150 lodges, the population amounting perhaps to 3,500.
On approaching a village, the lodges have the appearance of so many
small hillocks, of a conical form, huddled up together in the closest
possible manner, with only narrow passages between for walking, and the
rest of the space filled up by pens, formed of stakes, for confining
their ponies during the night, to guard them from being suddenly taken
off by a warlike party of another tribe.
The Pawnee lodges are of a circular form, large and spacious in the
interior; many of them being 50 feet in diameter. Three and sometimes
four circular rows of forked trunks of trees are placed upright, at
appropriate distances from each other. The row nearest the centre
consists of only four such upright timbers, about 15 or 20 feet high,
while the crotches in the more exterior rows are shorter and more
numerous, in proportion as the circumference is greater. These forks or
crotches support thick crossbeams, upon which a frame of long poles is
laid, extending from the ground at the outer circumference of the lodge
to the top, leaving only an opening at the apex, of about four feet in
diameter, to answer the double purpose of letting in the light, and
letting out the smoke. Upon the frame work of poles, willow osiers are
laid, and the whole is then covered with prairie-sod from 12 to 18
inches thick. Immediately below the opening above, a hole is sunk in the
centre for the fire-place, common to all the residents of the lodge.
From five to ten families, generally related together, have a common
occupancy of one lodge, governed by a head man, who may be styled the
lodge chief. Around the circumference of the lodge are recesses for
sleeping, partitioned off for each family, resembling the berths on
board of steamboats, many of which are screened in front and on the
sides by willow-twigs laid above each other, tied fast to a frame,
which, partly with the reddish bark on, and partly white from having the
bark taken off, exhibit considerable taste in those who wrought them.
When thus ornamented with twigs, a small opening about two by three feet
is left in front to admit the occupants. The bottom of the berth is
raised about two feet above the ground by means of large hewn sills,
overlaid by thick willow twigs, which are then covered with
buffalo-robes. The entrance of the lodge is always on the East side,
protected by a passage, closed above and on the sides, of about 15 feet
in length—the door being a large buffalo robe, or several sewed
together, hanging before the inner entrance. On the side opposite to the
door of each lodge, a recess is reserved, for depositing the skull of a
buffalo, surmounted by shields, quivers of arrows, spears, bows, skins,
feathers, etc. used for hunting, for medicinal or religious purposes, as
the case may require. In the intermediate space between the recesses and
the fireplace, mats, about three by five feet, made of rushes, are laid,
at convenient distances, for seats; while an extra supply of them,
rolled up, and set aside at different places in the lodge, are reserved
for extraordinary occasions, as for instance councils or feasts.
SUBSISTENCE.—What the _seal_ is to the Greenlander the _buffalo_ is to
the Pawnees and other Prairie Indians; and many of their songs, in which
reference is made to the buffalo, show that this animal is held in high
estimation among them. It will no doubt be a difficult undertaking to
wean them from an occupation, which is at the same time a gratifying and
exciting sport to them, and which imparts to an individual who
distinguishes himself in its pursuit, a character of high standing among
his tribe. The great scarcity of the buffalo, however, of late years,
since the immense emigration to the far west, has pinched them with want
and hunger, and it is evident that they cannot subsist much longer by
depending mainly upon this animal as heretofore. This circumstance,
though calling forth our warmest sympathies in behalf of their wretched
condition, may perhaps be the means, in the hands of an Allwise
Providence, of shaking that tenacity and attachment so strongly
developed in the Indian character, for long cherished customs, and
making them more pliable in adopting the arts of civilization. Their
attention must soon be directed to agriculture and the raising of stock,
or they must starve.
While on the hunt, in the buffalo country, the Pawnees generally have a
good supply of fresh meat to subsist on. That portion of their meat
which is intended to be jerked, in order to take home with them, they
cut into narrow slips, and dry it over the fire, without any salt,
where, by the action of the smoke and sun, it soon dries. Several slips
are then plaited together, when it is put away into a skin, and reserved
for future use. The reason why no salt is added is probably, first,
because it is a scarce article, and secondly, because anything that is
salted and dried, imbibes moisture in damp weather, and sooner becomes
rancid than meat dried without salt.
Besides the buffalo, as their main subsistence, they raise some corn,
beans, and pumpkins. As they use no other agricultural implements than
hoes, their fields are not very extensive. For suitable spots of
cultivation they generally select the mouth of a ravine, or any spot
where, by the washing of the rains, the ground has become loose and
mellow, and consequently the sod may more easily be extirpated than in
the prairies generally, where the ground can only be prepared by turning
the thick sod by means of a large prairie plough, and three or four yoke
of oxen.