All the arrows are peeled, scraped, and notched, and then the warrior

creases them. To do this, he takes an arrow-head and scores the shaft

in zigzag lines from end to end. These creases, or fluted gutters, in

the shaft are to let the blood run out when an animal is struck. The

blood flows along the little gutters in the wood and runs off the end

of the arrow. The arrow-head is made of steel or stone. It is shaped

like a heart or dart and has a stem about an inch long. The sides of

the stem are nicked or filed out like saw-teeth. Nearly all the wild

Indians now use steel arrow-heads, which are a great article of trade

among the savages. Certain firms in the East manufacture many hundreds

of thousands every year and send them to the traders who sell them to

the Indians for furs.

When the shaft is ready for the head, the warrior saws a slit with a

nicked knife in the end opposite the notch, and inserts the stem of

the arrow-head. The slit must be exactly in the center of the shaft,

and as deep as the stem is long. When properly adjusted, the teeth of

the stem show themselves on each side of the slit. Buffalo, deer, or

elk sinew is then softened in water, and the wood is wrapped firmly to

the arrowhead, taking care to fit the sinew in the teeth of the stem

to prevent the head from pulling out.

The next process is to put on the feathers. To do this properly great

care must be taken. Turkey or eagle quills are soaked in warm water to

make them split easily and uniformly. The feather is then stripped from

the quill and put on the shaft of the arrow. Three feathers are placed

on each shaft, and they are laid equi-distant along the stem. The big

end of the feather is fastened near the notch of the shaft and laid six

or eight inches straight along the wood. The feathers are glued to the

shaft and wrapped at each end with fine sinew. The arrow is next

painted, marked, dried, and is ready for use. It takes a warrior a whole

day to make an arrow, for which the trader allows him ten cents.

Arrow-heads are put up in packages of a dozen each. They cost the

trader half a cent, or six cents per package, and are sold to the

Indians at enormous profits. Thus, twelve arrow-heads will be

exchanged for a buffalo robe, worth $8 or $9, and three, for a beaver

skin, worth $4. Indians often buy arrow-heads at these enormous

prices, and then sell the arrow back to the trader at ten cents, in

exchange for goods, beads, or knives.

Travelers on the prairie have often seen the Indians throwing up

signal lights at night, and have wondered how it was done. I will tell

you all about it. They take off the head of the arrow and dip the

shaft in gunpowder, mixed with glue. This they call making

fire-arrows. The gunpowder adheres to the wood, and coats it three or

four inches from its end, to the depth of one-fourth of an inch.

Chewed bark mixed with dry gunpowder is then fastened to the stick,

and the arrow is ready for use. When it is to be fired, a warrior

places it on his bow-string and draws his bow ready to let it fly; the

point of the arrow is then lowered; another warrior lights the dry

bark, and it is shot high in the air. When it has gone up a little

distance, it bursts out into flame, and burns brightly until it falls

to the ground. Various meanings are attached to these fire-arrow

signals. Thus, one arrow meant, among the Santees, "The enemy are

about"; two arrows from the same point, "Danger"; three, "Great

danger"; many, "They are too strong, or we are falling back"; two

arrows sent up at the same moment, "We will attack"; three, "Soon";

four, "Now"; if shot diagonally, "In that direction." These signals

are constantly changed, and are always agreed upon when the party goes

out or before it separates. The Indians send their signals very

intelligently, and seldom make mistakes in telegraphing each other by

these silent monitors. The amount of information they can

communicate, by fires and burning arrows, is perfectly wonderful.

Every war party carries with it bundles of signal arrows.

The bow--the weapon so long in use among the different Indian tribes

of this continent and so typical of Indian life--is made of various

kinds of wood, and its manufacture is a work of no little labor. Even

at this day the bow is much used, and although an Indian may have a

gun, he is seldom seen without his long bow, and his quiver well

filled with arrows. The gun may get out of order, and he can not mend

it; the ammunition may become wet, and there is an end of hunting; but

the faithful bow is always in order, and its swift arrows ready to fly

in wet as well as dry weather. Thus reasons the savage, and so he

keeps his bow to fall back upon in case of accident.

Until the invention of breech-loaders, the bow was a far more deadly

weapon at close range than the best rifle. A warrior could discharge

his arrows with much greater rapidity and precision than the most

expert woodsman could charge and fire a muzzle-loading rifle.

The Indian boy's first lesson in life is to shoot with a bow. He is

furnished with a small bow and "beewaks", or blunt arrows, so that he

will hurt nobody, and with these he shoots at marks. By and by, when

he has acquired some skill in handling his weapon, he is given small

arrow-points, and with these he shoots birds, squirrels, and small

beasts. As he grows older he receives the long-bow, and at last the

strong-bow.

These strong-bows are powerful weapons, and I have seen them so stiff

that a white man could not bend them more than four inches, while an

Indian would, with apparent ease, draw them to the arrow's head. A

shaft fired from one of these bows will go through the body of a

buffalo, and arrow-heads have been found so firmly imbedded in the

thigh bones of a man that no force could extract them.

The parents take great pride in teaching young Indians to shoot, and

the development of the muscles and strength of their arms is watched

with much interest. A stout arm, ornamented with knots of muscles is a

great honor to an Indian, and no one but those who can handle the

strong-bow are deemed fit for war.

Of all the Indians of the West, the Sioux and Crows make the best bows.

The Sioux bow is generally four feet long, one and a half inches wide,

and an inch thick at the middle. It tapers from the center, or "grasp",

toward the ends, and is but half an inch wide and half an inch thick at

the extremities. At one end the bow-string is notched into the wood and

made permanently fast, while at the other end two notches are cut in the

wood, and the string at that end of the bow is made like a slip-knot or

loop. When the bow is to be used, the warrior sets the end to which the

string is made fast firmly on the ground, and then bends down the other

end until the loop slips into the notch. This is called "stringing" the

bow. The bow is never kept strung except when in actual use, as it would

lose its strength and elasticity by being constantly bent. When

unstrung, a good bow is perfectly straight, and, if properly made and

seasoned, will always retain its elasticity.

The wood generally used in manufacturing bows is ash, hickory,

iron-wood, elm, and cedar. No hickory grows west of the Missouri, and

it is very difficult to get; and an Indian will always pay a high

price for a piece of this wood.

When the bow is made of cedar, it need not be seasoned; but all other

woods require seasoning, and are not worked until perfectly dry. Every

teepee has its bow-wood hung up with the arrows in the smoke of the

fire well out of reach of the flames. A warrior with a sharp knife and

a sandstone, or file, can make a bow in three days if he works hard,

but it generally takes a week, and sometimes a month, to finish a

fancy bow. When done, it is worth three dollars in trade.

All the bows differ in length and strength, being gauged for the arms

of those who are to use them; but a white man would, until he learned

the trick of it, find himself unable to bend even the weakest war-bow.

This has given rise to the impression that the Indians are stronger

than white men, which is an error; for, although only a slight man

myself, I learned, after some practice, to bend the strongest bow, and

could send a shaft as far or as deep as any savage. On one occasion I

shot an arrow, while running, into a buffalo so that the point came

out on the opposite side; another arrow disappeared in the buffalo,

not even the notch being visible. I have seen a bow throw an arrow

five hundred yards, and have myself often discharged one entirely

through a board one inch thick. Once I found a man's skull transfixed

to a tree by an arrow which had gone completely through the bones, and

imbedded itself so deep in the wood as to sustain the weight of the

head. He had probably been tied up to the tree and shot.

The surface of the bow is made perfectly flat, then roughened with a

file or stone, the sinew being dipped in hot glue and laid on the

wood. The sinew is then lapped at the ends and on the middle or grasp

of the bow. The string is attached while green, twisted, and left to

dry on the bow. The whole outside of the wood and sinew is now covered

with a thick solution of glue, and the bow is done. Rough bows look

like hickory limbs with the bark on, but some of them are beautifully

painted and ornamented. I once knew a trader to glue some red velvet

on a bow, and the Indians paid him an immense price for it, thinking

it very wonderful.

In traveling, the bow is carried in a sheath attached to the arrow

quiver, and the whole is slung to the back by a belt of elk or

buckskin, which passes diagonally across the breast, and is fastened

to the ends of the quiver. The quiver and bow-sheath is generally made

of the skin of an ox or some wild animal, and is tanned with the hair

on. The quiver is ornamented with tassels or fringe of buckskin, and

the belt across the breast is painted or worked with beads. Each

Indian has his sign or name on his belt, bow, sheath, or arrow quiver.

The celebrated Sioux chief, Spotted Tail, or "Sin-ta Gallessca", had

his bow-sheath made from the skin of a spotted ox he had killed in a

train his warriors captured, and as the tail was left dangling at the

end of the sheath, the Indians ever afterward called him Spotted Tail,

or "The man with the Spotted Tail". You may be curious to know what

this Indian's name was before he was called Spotted Tail, and I must

tell you many Indians never have a name, while others have half a

dozen. Some act of bravery, or an article of clothing, generally fixes

an Indian's name, but a new deed, or a new head-dress, may change it.

To shoot with the bow properly, it must be held firmly in three

fingers of the right hand; the arrow is fixed on the bow-string with

the thumb and forefinger of the left hand, and the other three fingers

are used to pull the string. The shaft of the arrow lays between the

thumb and forefinger of the right hand, which rest over the grasp of

the bow. To shoot, the bow is turned slightly, so that one end is

higher than the other, and the arrow is then launched.

--_From "Belden the White Chief"._

CAN YOU UNDERSTAND RELATIONSHIP?

This drill will test your ability to recognize easily relationships

between words. Beginning on the first line, write the figures 1 to 10.

In each group of words below, the first two words have a certain

connection in meaning. When you discover this relationship between the

first two words, you can find among the five words that follow, two

other words that bear the same relationship. For example, in group

one, the TIRE is made of RUBBER. Now if you look among the words that

follow, you will easily see that the words HOUSE and BRICKS are

related in the same way. (The HOUSE is made of BRICKS.) Write these

four words after figure 1 on your paper:

1. TIRE RUBBER house bricks

Look at group two. We can easily see that just as the TAILOR makes

CLOTHES so the BAKER makes BREAD. So you will write these four words

after figure 2 on your paper:

2. TAILOR CLOTHES baker bread

Complete the exercise by selecting the two words in each remaining group

that are related in meaning in the same way that the given words are

related in meaning. When you have finished, wait quietly for the others.

1. TIRE, RUBBER (wagon, circle, house, brush, bricks).

2. TAILOR, CLOTHES (baker, store, city, ship, bread).

3. FIRE, HEAT (knife, candle, burn, light, wood).

4. SAILOR, SEA (book, sing, soldier, fight, land).

5. GUN, BULLET (bow, horse, shoot, arrow, fly).

6. YOUNG, QUICK (old, fast, grow, father, slow).

7. APPLE, TREE (oranges, south, grape, vine, sweet).

8. CEILING, FLOOR (sky, attic, stair, earth, high).

9. WINDOW, GLASS (silk, knife, book, steel, pencil).

10. SQUIRREL, CHATTERS (bird, tree, sings, fly, nuts).

OPENING THE GREAT WEST

Here is a picture of the work of the army of the United States in

opening the great prairie country of the West. Today we get

immense quantities of our food from the states between the

Mississippi River and the Rocky Mountains. Seventy years ago the

most of this territory, now the richest farming country in the

United States, was inhabited chiefly by roving tribes of Indians

who lived mainly by hunting the buffalo.

You will notice many details that show that the story was written

many years ago. For instance, the soldiers are spoken of as "blue

jackets". Make a list of these points as you read.

Read the selection as rapidly as you can without overlooking

important details. When the majority of the class has finished,

your teacher will ask you in turn to stand before the class and

recite on the topics given at the end. You should try to make your

recitation interesting by giving details that will help your

hearers to see what the author has described.

As soon as the traveler crosses the Missouri, and enters the

territories, he begins to find the blue jackets, and the farther west

he goes the more numerous they become. It is only just to the army to

say that it has ever been the pioneer of civilization in America. Ever

since Washington crossed the Alleghanies, and, with his brave

Virginians, pushed to the Ohio, the work has been steadily going on.

From Pittsburgh, the army led far down the Ohio to the Mississippi,

and thence along the Father of Waters to New Orleans; next west to the

Miami, and far up the lakes; then to the Missouri, and so on for

thousands of miles until the other ocean was reached through Oregon

and California. A line of forts is pushed out into the new and

uninhabited country, and presently people come in and settle near the

posts. A few years elapse, and there are hundreds of citizens in all

directions. Then the forts are sold or pulled down, and the troops

march farther west to new posts.

The knapsacks are packed, the cavalry are mounted, and we are ready to

occupy a new line of country. "Head of column west, forward, march!"

and away we go. What an outfit! The long lines of cavalry wind over

the hills, and then follows the compact column of infantry. Then come

a few pieces of artillery and the train. What a sight! Hundreds of

wagons, filled with every conceivable article of food and implement of

labor: steam-engines, saw-mills, picks, shovels, hoes, masses of iron,

piles of lumber, tons of pork, hard bread, flour, rice, sugar, coffee,

tea, and potatoes, all drawn in huge wagons. Six mules or ten oxen are

seen tugging the monster wheeled machines along. The train is

generally preceded by a score or two of carriages, ambulances, and

light wagons, containing the families of officers, women, children,

and laundresses. Behind the wagon train are driven the herds of cattle

and sheep, and, last of all, comes a company of infantry, and,

perhaps, one of cavalry.

Day after day the living, moving mass toils on toward the setting sun.

Bridges are built, gulleys filled, hill-sides dug down, and roads cut

along precipices. We wonder how the pioneer corps can keep out of our

way; but each day we go steadily forward, seeing only their work,

never overtaking them. A ride to the front will show us how this is

done. It is mid-day, and a company is going out to relieve the

pioneers. The knapsacks are lightened, and off we go at a quick pace.

At sundown we come upon the pioneers, and find some building a bridge,

while others cut down the hill so the wagons can pass. We relieve them

of their shovels, picks, and axes, and one-half of the company goes

into camp, and the other half goes to work. At midnight we are aroused

by the beating of the drum, and the half of the company that is in

camp goes out to relieve the working party. At daylight we are

relieved in turn; the work goes on day and night, and that is the way

the pioneers keep ahead of the train.

Let us return to the column. It is near sunset, the bugles sound the

halt, and the columns file off into camp. The cavalry horses are sent

out to graze, the tents put up, fires lighted and the suppers put on to

cook. The white canvas gleams in the setting sun, and the camp resounds

with mirth and laughter. Water is brought from the brook, and soap and

towels are in great demand to remove the dust and stains of travel.

Folding chairs, tables, beds, mattresses, are opened out, and carpets

spread on the ground. The butchers have slaughtered a beef or two, and

the fresh meat is brought in for distribution. The commissary wagons are

opened, and sugar, coffee, rice, hominy, and canned fruits dealt out. In

an hour we sit down to a smoking hot dinner and supper of roast beef,

hot coffee, fried potatoes, fresh biscuit, and canned peaches. If the

air is cool the little peaked Sibley stoves are put up, and the evening

is spent in telling stories, playing cards, and singing songs. Here is

heard the thrumming of a guitar; there are a lot of officers playing

euchre, and yonder a group of soldiers gathered about their camp-fire

telling tales of how they campaigned in Oregon, or fought the Comanches

and Apaches in Texas and New Mexico twenty years ago.

The bugles sound tattoo, the rolls are called, taps blow, the lights

are put out, and the busy camp sinks into stillness. Only here and

there a light is left burning, where the quartermaster in his tent is

busy over his papers, the adjutant making the orders for the morrow's

march, or a noisy trio of officers continuing to a late hour their

jests and songs. No soldier is allowed to have his light burning after

taps, but the officers can do as they please.

Every one sleeps soundly, for each knows he is well guarded. It is

near midnight, and, if you like, we will walk about the camp a little.

Here is the officer of the day, and we will accompany him. We go out

to the edge of the camp, where a large group of men are gathered about

a blazing fire. "Who comes there?" rings out upon the still night air.

"Friends," is answered back. "Advance one and be recognized." This is

done, and then comes the cry of "Officer of day, turn out the guard".

There is a rattling of muskets, a hurrying and bustling to and fro,

and the guard falls into line and is inspected--so far as to ascertain

that all are present and every thing right. Frequently an officer, but

most generally a sergeant of experience, commands the guard, and all

the sentinels are posted according to the directions of the officer of

the day, who receives his instructions from the commanding officer.

The wagons are drawn up in long lines or semicircles, with the tongues

inward, to which are tied the mules and oxen. Sentinels pace up and down

to see that all goes right, and rouse the teamsters to tie up the mules

that are constantly getting loose. The cry of "loose mules" will bring a

dozen teamsters out of their wagons, and at least a hundred oaths before

the animal is caught and secured. The cavalry wagons are placed twenty

to thirty feet apart, and long ropes drawn through the hind wheels, to

which are picketed the horses. Guards are everywhere, and the sentinels

are keenly on the alert. Each hill-top has its silent watcher. The herds

are kept where there is as much grass as possible, and mounted herders

constantly watch them, ready for an Indian alarm or a stampede. A cry of

"Indians, Indians," produces great life and commotion among the herders,

guards, and sentinels, but the body of the camp does not deign to move

unless the firing is very heavy, and the order given to "turn out".

This is the Regular Army on the march.

When the troops enter the Indian country, and the attacks become

frequent, the column marches more compactly; the herds and wagons are

kept well up; the women and children are put among the infantry;

flankers thrown out, and a howitzer sent to the front to throw shells

and frighten off the savages. The boom of a cannon seems to be the

voice of advancing civilization, and greatly terrifies the Indians.

At last the line of country that is to be occupied has been reached,

and a fort is built. This consists of a stockade, log-houses, and

shelters for the stores. Then the troops are divided, and another fort

is built fifty or a hundred miles from the first, and so on until the

whole line is "occupied". If there is danger, earthworks are thrown

up, and one or two pieces mounted. Now begins the work in earnest;

keeping open the communication between the forts; getting up supplies

from the rear, and securing the way for immigration. The country is

mapped, the land surveyed, the streams looked up and named, and

saw-mills built. Settlers come in and open farms near the forts, and

they creep up and down the valleys, and over the hills, until they

stretch away for hundreds of miles. Meanwhile, there are Indian

battles, surprises, and massacres by scores. Hundreds lose their

lives, but the settlements go on. There is a little grocery, a rum

shop, a town, and by and by a city.

Every spring, as soon as the grass grows, the cavalry takes the field

and scours over the country for hundreds of miles. The infantry remains

in the posts, or guards trains to and fro. From April until December,

the cavalry is on the go constantly, and the officers are separated from

their families. When the snows fall they come into the forts to winter,

but are often routed out by the approach of their savage foes, and made

to march hundreds of miles when the thermometer is far below zero. It is

this that makes the troops so savage, and often causes them to slaughter

the Indians without mercy. After a long and hard summer's campaign, the

officers and men come in tired, weary, and only too glad to rejoin their

families and rest, when scarcely have they removed the saddles from

their horses' backs, when murders, robberies, and burnings announce the

approach of the fierce foe, and they are ordered out for a winter

campaign. Full of rage and chagrin, they go forth breathing vengeance on

all Indians, and after toiling a month or more, through ice and snow,

with freezing hands, feet, and ears, they overtake the savages and

punish them with terrible severity.

In this way our great western plains are opened to civilization. Every

year millions of acres are added to our national domain. The wild

prairie with its countless buffaloes and its skulking, murderous

war-parties of red men becomes the frontier; the frontier becomes the

settled farms and villages; the iron horse and the telegraph connect

it with the great East; and still the pioneer and the army push ahead

to open up still more of the richest land in the world to the

conquering axe and plow of the Anglo-Saxon.

--_From "Belden the White Chief"._

Pupils should be prepared to recite on the following topics:

1. Moving west, then moving west again.

2. What an army train carried.

3. The work of the pioneer corps.

4. An army camp at night

(_a_) Supper.

(_b_) Changing the guard.

(_c_) How the camp was protected.

5. Development of a fort into a settlement.

6. Summary.

Write answers to the following questions:

1. Who of your relations might have been one of these soldiers;

your older brother, your father, your grandfather, or your great

grandfather?

2. Name three kinds of food that we eat every day that come from

the part of the country opened as described in this selection.

3. Tell some of the sounds you might have heard if you had been

sleeping in one of the wagons when camped for the night.

TURNING OUT THE INTRUDER

Here is another exercise that will help you see how well you can

arrange words in groups. What kind of list is the first group of

words below? Do all the words under figure 1 belong in that list?

Would it be a better list without the word VELVET? Write VELVET on

the first line of your paper.

In each group of words, there is one that does not belong there.

Find the misplaced word in each group, writing one under the

other. You have now made a new list of words of one class by

taking one word out of each group. Pick out a good heading for

this new list and write it as the top.

The Silent Readers: Sixth Reader · 第 6 / 21 段