The nose is generally prominent, and either aquiline or Roman, with

the wings not more dilated than those of white men. This form of nose

is so prevalent, as to be regarded as the most beautiful; it is no

small compliment to tell a person that his nose is like that of a

mule; and beauty is indicated in their language of signs, by placing

an arcuated finger upon the face in imitation of the aquiline curve.

The _pug-nose_, and the more common form of the noses of the white

Americans, of a concave outline, are regarded as remote from the

standard of beauty.

The lips are more tumid than those of the white American, but very far

less so than those of the negro.

The lower jaw is large and robust; the teeth are very strong, with

broad crowns. The chin is well formed.

{5} The cheekbones are prominent, but not angular like those of

the Mongul, and stamp a peculiarity on the contour of the face,

characteristic of the American Indian.

The expression of the countenance is austere, often ferocious.[20]

[20] The gravity of the Indian is almost proverbial: he will smile,

but he rarely laughs. He does not indulge in badinage, or unnecessary

remarks respecting the weather, merely for the purpose of talking,

and generally addresses his companions in a low voice, and with few

words, excepting in council, when his elocution is loud, rapid, and

vehement: the voice is full, harsh, and somewhat guttural. The squaw,

not unfrequently, offers a perfect contrast in this respect, in her

vivacious demeanour, shrill loquacity, and pleasant smile, and laugh,

readily excited.—JAMES.

Very few of them are left-handed, perhaps even a smaller number of them

use the left hand in preference to the right, than is observable among

white men.

The squaw differs from the males, in having a more squat figure, or is

shorter and more thick bodied, with a much broader face.

The colour of the Indian is, according to Volney, that of the skin

of smoked bacon ham. It is sufficiently obvious that this colour is

independent of climate; those parts of the body, which are, and,

agreeably to their representations, always have been, perfectly

shielded from the action of the rays of the sun, from their youth

upward, are, notwithstanding, of the same tint with the face, which is

never covered.

In walking they preserve a perfectly upright carriage of the person,

without any thing of the swinging gait so universal with the white

people, which is regarded by them as excessively awkward, and which

they imitate in their sports to excite the merriment of the spectators,

though not in the presence of those whom they thus ridicule.

In stepping the feet are universally placed upon the ground in a

parallel manner with each other; they say that turning out the toes in

walking, as well as turning them inward, is a very disadvantageous mode

of progression, in high grass or in narrow pathways.

The peculiar odour diffused by the body of the Indian, seems to be

caused, not so much by the cutaneous transpiration, as by the custom of

rubbing themselves with odoriferous plants, and with bison {6} grease.

They also sometimes make necklaces of a sort of sweet-scented grass,

and suspend small parcels of it about their persons. The various kinds

of pigments, with which they overspread their persons, may also be

partially operative in producing this effect; and the ninnegahe, which

they are so constantly habituated to smoke, is doubtless another agent.

The odour of the Indian is rather agreeable than otherwise to many, and

that diffused by the persons of the Pawnee war party near the Konza

village, increased by a profuse perspiration from the violence of their

exercise in running, was rather pleasant to most of the members of our

party. The Upsaroka or Crow Indians, are said to anoint themselves with

castor.

To the acute sense of smelling of the Indian, the odour of the white

man is far from pleasant, and is often particularly remarked by the

squaw to be offensive.

Their sense of hearing is remarkably acute; ordinary conversation

amongst the men, as we have before observed, is conducted in a low tone

of voice; often when you suppose from the compass of the speaker's

voice, that he is addressing a person at his elbow, he is, in reality,

directing his discourse to one on the opposite side of the room, or at

a considerable distance. The ordinary conversation of the women is in

a much louder tone than that of the men. Partial deafness, however, is

not uncommon.

The memory of the Omawhaw is exceedingly retentive.

The Omawhaw seldom renders himself unhappy with gloomy anticipations

of the future, but almost literally takes "no care for the morrow." He

will say to his squaw, "cook what meat you have, for the Wahconda will

give us more to-morrow, and if not to-morrow, next day, and if never,

let us eat what we have got."

{7} They have but little mechanical ingenuity, but an individual of

this nation, who is now no more, without acquiring any knowledge of

the white people, as far as we could learn, mended the guns and traps

of his countrymen, when not too seriously injured. But they have not

attempted to repair either, since his death.

They rarely construct skin canoes; they make war-clubs, rude saddles,

hair ropes, stone pipes, wooden bowls, horn spoons, and many personal

ornaments.

The squaws make mockasins and leggings variously ornamented; and

handsome necklaces, wrought with beads of different colours, which are

symmetrically strung upon red silk, or thread coloured with vermillion.

In the manufacture of this common, and much admired article of

dress, ten double threads are attached by one end to a small _wang_

or shred of leather, which is firmly stretched and fixed transversely

to the work; each double thread is placed at such a distance from the

adjoining ones, as to give room for the beads. These are then strung

on, one upon each double thread; by this operation a transverse row of

beads is formed upon the work, parallel to the _wang_; this being done,

the left hand double thread is passed to the right, not over and under,

but through all the other double threads, parallel to, and in contact

with the row of beads, and in this position occupies the situation of

woof or _filling_; but its extremity is continued along on the right

side of the work, so as to resume, in that portion of its length, the

character of warp or _chain_. Another row of beads is now put on; after

which the next left hand double thread is passed through each of the

others to the right of the work, as the previous one had been.

They also make handsome garters for supporting the leggings below the

knee, of the breadth of the hand; they are formed of beads strung on

worsted yarn.

{8} Their art of painting is very rude, yet they manage to give some

idea of a battle, by graphic representations in colour, on a bison

robe. In the same manner are depicted the various animals, which are

the objects of their hunts. These robes are also decorated with blue,

red, and black broad lines, forming various designs; indeed it is very

common to see a robe thus ornamented, worn by an Omawhaw.

The art of sculpture is also in its rudest state, and is almost limited

to the ornamenting of the war-club with indented lines, forming

different angular figures.

Their persons are often neatly tattooed in straight lines, and in

angles on the breast, neck, and arms. The daughters of chiefs, and

those of wealthy Indians, generally are denoted by a small round spot,

tattooed on the forehead. The process of tattooing is performed by

persons, who make it a business of profit. Their instrument consists

of three or four needles, tied to the truncated and flattened end of

a stick, in such an arrangement that the points may form a straight

line; the figure desired is traced upon the skin, and some dissolved

gunpowder, or pulverized charcoal, is pricked in with this instrument,

agreeably to the figure. The operator must be well paid, and hence it

is not every one that can conveniently sustain the expense of having

this distinguishing mark placed on the forehead of his children.

Their astronomical knowledge is very limited. They distinguish the

north star (Polaris), and are aware of its being apparently stationary,

while the others seem to revolve. Venus is known by the name of

_Me-ka-ka-tun-guh_, or big star. The constellation of the seven stars

(Pleiades), is called _Tapa_, or deer's head. The constellation of the

great bear (Ursa major), is distinguished by the term _Wa-ba-ha_, or

car for transporting sick or wounded {9} persons on a march. The galaxy

is called _Wahconda-o-jun-ga_, or the path of the Master of Life. When

the moon is eclipsed, they say _Me-om-bottsa_, or the moon is dead;

and when the sun is eclipsed, they say the sun is dead. A comet they

denominate _Me-ka-ka-nare_, or blazing star; this name, at least, was

given to the comet of 1811; they regarded it as portending the death of

some great chief; and as it happened, one of the great Pawnee chiefs

did die the same year, which confirmed them in their notion. The three

stars of Orion's belt, are called _Me-huh-se_, or the goose-foot.

Wangewaha, the Hard Heart, chief of the Ioways, has made himself

considerably acquainted with the manners of the white people; he

surprised Mr. Dougherty one day by inquiring, if it is true that

the earth revolves round the sun; he was of course answered in the

affirmative; when a sarcastic Indian of a group sitting near, was

overheard to say in a low voice, that it was indeed a pretty story to

tell them, when any person could see the sun rise there, pass along in

that direction, and set there (pointing with his finger to the apparent

course of the luminary).

The day is divided into morning, noon, evening, and night; and

respectively indicated by the words, _Cas-aht-te_, _Me-o-kons-ka_,

_Paz-za_, and _Hon-da_. Any particular hour of the day is denoted by

pointing to the apparent place of the sun at the specified time. The

years are denoted by the number of winters, and the months by lunations.

Their geographical knowledge of the country over which they roam is

remarkably exact. They know intimately every river and creek in the

vicinity of the Missouri, from Grand river up to the Arickaree nation,

on the left side of the river, and as far down as the Osage river on

the right, and south as far as the Black Hills, together with their

courses and distances.

{10} Mr. Dougherty, accompanied with two or three young Indians,

arrived at an Omawhaw hunting encampment, late in the evening, and,

after inquiring at several of the lodges, at length entered the one

in which he intended to remain. Being asked by which way he had come,

he pointed out, as he thought, the true direction; at this his fellow

travellers smiled, and told him he was mistaken. He was not undeceived

till he went out of the lodge to observe the direction they had

indicated, when he became satisfied of their correctness. They had,

however, been less frequently in that part of the country than he had

been; but they had, without doubt, instinctively noted all the changes

of the direction which they had made in winding through the temporary

village, for they could not avail themselves of previous local

knowledge.

But although they are remarkably accurate in their knowledge of the

proper direction in which to travel, in order to reach a given point,

yet they are often lost during foggy days, or during heavy snow storms.

Their culinary utensils are few in number, and simple in kind. The

original earthenware pots are now rarely used by the nations on the

lower part of the Missouri, being substituted by brass kettles, which

they procure from the traders in exchange for their peltries. The

Pawnees, however, whose intercourse with the whites has been less

considerable than that of the nations bordering more closely on the

Missouri, still employ earthen vessels, and yet continue the limited

manufacture of them. These vessels are not glazed, and resemble

in composition the antique fragments of Indian earthenware, found

in various parts of the United States; the mementos of a numerous

people, that have been destroyed by obscure causes, as well as by the

avaricious policy, and cruelly unjust and barbarous encroachments of

{11} a people, professing the mild doctrines of "peace on earth and

good will to men."

Food is served up in wooden bowls, of a very wide and simple form, and

of various sizes, generally carved, with much patient application,

out of a large knot or protuberance of the side of a tree. The spoon

is made of bison horn, and is of a large size; the handle, variously

ornamented by notching and other rude carving, is elevated into an

angle of fifty or sixty degrees with its bowl, which is about three

inches wide, by about five in length; a size which, in civilised life,

would be inadmissible.

The only implement of husbandry is the hoe; if they have not an iron

one, they substitute the scapula of a bison, attached to a stick in

such a manner as to present the same form. The traders supply them with

axes of iron.

The weapons used in hunting are bows and arrows, and guns. The bow

is about four feet long, of a simple form, composed of hickory, or

hop-horn beam wood, (ostrya virginica,) or bow-wood,(maclura aurantiaca

of Nuttall,) the latter being greatly preferred. The cord is of twisted

bison, or elk sinew. The hunting arrow is generally made of arrow-wood,

(viburnum,) about two feet in length, of the usual cylindric form, and

armed with elongate-triangular spear-head, made of sheet iron, of which

the shoulders are rounded, instead of the ordinary barbed form; it is

firmly affixed to the shank by deer sinew, and its flight is equalised

by three half webs of the feathers of a turkey, neatly secured near

its base, in the usual manner. The war arrow differs from that used

for hunting, in having a barbed spear-head, very slightly attached to

the wood, so that if it penetrate the body of an enemy, it cannot be

withdrawn without leaving the point in the wound.

The arrows are contained in a quiver, which is slung obliquely across

the back, and which is generally made of Cougar skin, with the tail

of the {12} animal dangling down from the upper extremity; attached

to this quiver is also a skin case for the bow, when not in use. To

bend the bow requires the exertion of considerable force, dexterously

applied; for this purpose three fingers are placed upon the string,

whilst the thumb and index finger grasp the base of the arrow, where it

rests on the string; the wrist is defended from the percussion of the

string by a guard of leather. The smooth bored gun is preferred to the

rifle, the latter being too heavy for their use. Those called Mackinaw

guns are greatly preferred to those which they more commonly procure

from our traders, being far more substantial and serviceable.

They make use of no traps, excepting those for catching beaver, which

they obtain from the traders chiefly on loan. The hooks which they use

in fishing are bought of the traders. They have no fishing nets.

We saw no other domestic animals in the Indian villages than horses,

mules, asses, and dogs. The first are by no means elegantly formed,

but they are hardy and serviceable. The Indians are generally cruel

horse masters, perhaps in a great measure through necessity; the backs

of their horses are very often sore and ulcerated, from the friction

of the rude saddle, which is fashioned after the Spanish manner, being

elevated at the pummel and croup, and resting on skin saddle cloths

without padding. They ride extremely well, and make great use of the

whip and the heel. The former is attached to the wrist by a broad band,

which passes through a hole perforated near the end of the handle. The

handle is about fifteen inches long only, and very stout; that of the

whip of Hashea, the Oto warrior, is the section of a gun-barrel. The

lash is composed of two thongs of bison skin, from one-fourth to half

an inch wide. These are alternately passed through small longitudinal

slits cut in each, and, when {13} finished, exhibit, on a cursory

view, the appearance of a flat plait, thick, and longer than the handle.

The dogs of the Konzas are generally of a mixed breed, between our dogs

with pendant ears, and the native dogs, whose ears are universally

erect; the Indians of this nation seek every opportunity to cross the

breed. These mongrel dogs are less common with the Omawhaws; while the

dogs of the Pawnees generally have preserved their original form.

No regular sentinels are appointed to watch during the night; but many

of the young men, who are moving about the greater part of the night

on their errands of love, often singing and hallooing to excite the

attention of their mistresses, are the only guards of the safety of the

village from surprise. If, however, the nation have reason to believe

that the enemy is near at hand, or that there is a probability of an

attack, they are necessarily vigilant; young warriors volunteer to look

out at different points, or are requested to do so by the chiefs.

Wars generally originate in the stealing of horses, and the elopement

of squaws; they are sometimes the consequence of infringing on each

other's hunting grounds. Hostilities are generally conducted by small

predatory parties, which are originated and formed under the influence

of some approved warrior. An individual of this description, having

determined to endeavour to assemble a war party, as a first step,

paints himself over with white clay; he then passes through the camp

or village, crying aloud to the Wahconda, and requesting the young

warriors of the nation to have pity on him, and accompany him to strike

at the enemy; he then ascends some hill or elevation, or repairs to

the woods, and there continues for some time his ejaculations. The

following day he gives a feast to all such as are willing to accompany

him; and it is distinctly understood, that all of those who partake of

his hospitality on this occasion are enlisted for the {14} excursion.

He occasionally repeats this crying and feasting, until a convenient

period can be assigned for their departure. During this interval he

also occupies himself in _making medicine_, hanging out his medicine

bags, &c. At his feasts he harangues his men, telling them that they

must endeavour to make themselves known to the nation by their warlike

deeds.

This leader the French distinguish by the name of _partizan_, and

the Omawhaws _No-doh-hun-guh_; his medicine parcel, upon which much

reliance is placed, for the successful termination of their adventure,

contains, almost always, the skin of a sparrow hawk (Falco sparverius),

and many small articles, such as wampum, beads, and tobacco, all

attached to a belt, but carefully and neatly enveloped in bark, and

tied around by strips of the same material, forming a cylindrical

figure, of about twelve inches in length.

This is suspended upon the back or shoulders of the partizan, by its

belt, which passes round his neck.

Having their mockasins, leggings, guns, bows and arrows, spears, war

clubs, and scalping knives prepared, each man furnishes himself with

some provisions, and they all depart silently during the night, led by

the partizan.

On their route towards the enemy they proceed with great caution,

and constantly send forward runners, or spies, to reconnoitre. When

encamped, some individuals are vigilant during the night, but if they

suppose themselves to be distant from the enemy, they keep no watch.

The medicine bag is not permitted to touch the ground; accordingly

on encamping, it is carefully suspended to a forked stick, which is

stuck firmly in the soil; the ceremony of smoking to it, is then

performed, the stem of the pipe being occasionally directed towards

it, the heavens and the earth. After this ceremony, if the party is in

the vicinity of the {15} enemy, the partizan places the medicine bag

about the neck of one of his trusty warriors, and, whispering in his

ear, directs him to take two or three men, and look carefully about for

signs of the enemy.

On the return of this messenger the partizan runs to meet him, receives

his report in a whisper, takes the important charge from his neck,

and whilst returning it to its place, communicates the intelligence

he has received to his party; "no sign of the enemy has yet been

discovered, but have patience, my brave young men, the Wahconda will

soon have pity on us, and show us the enemy we so anxiously seek." If,

on the contrary, the enemy is discovered, his position and numbers

are reconnoitred, and the party prepares to attack them. The sacred

medicine bag is now opened by the partizan; the envelop is rejected,

and the remainder is suspended from his neck, with the bird skin,

wampum, &c. hanging down before from the belt. This is a signal,

indicating that a blow must be struck. The party then paint themselves,

and smoke if time admits of it. The partizan at length gives the wished

for order, and the whole move onward, with slow and cautious steps,

in order to surprise the enemy; but if discovered, they rush on with

impetuosity, and without any regular order. If the scene of the contest

lies in the forest, they shield themselves behind trees of small

diameter, when at the proper distance, from whence they discharge their

missiles. If the attack is made in the open plain, where no shelter

offers, they leap about from one side to another, and preserve a

constant state of activity, for the purpose of preventing any steady

aim from being taken at them by their adversaries.

It is not the mere shooting down of an enemy that confers great honour

upon a warrior; this, the Indians say, can be done by any person,

however cowardly he may be. But high distinction is due to the gallant

soul, that advances upon the field of {16} battle, and captures an

enemy, or who first strikes, or even touches the body of a fallen

enemy, in presence of the friends of the deceased, who are generally

watching their opportunity to revenge his death.

This is, indeed, an extraordinary proof of courage, as the act is not

to be accomplished without the greatest hazard of life; the adventurer

is obliged to expose himself, often, to a great number of assailants,

besides the danger of falling into an ambush, in attempting to strike

the decoy. It is this _striking_, that is numbered amongst their war

feats by the warriors, at their dances.

The capture of a prisoner confers the highest honour on the captor.

Striking an enemy, whilst active, appears to be the second in rank, of

their great martial achievements. Striking his dead, or disabled body,

confers the third honour. Capturing a horse may be regarded as the

fourth; presenting a horse to any person, the fifth, and the shooting,

or otherwise killing an enemy, by a missile, is the sixth in point of

rank of military deeds, in the estimation of the Omawhaws. The taking

of a scalp is merely an evidence of what has been done, and, of itself,

seems to confer no honour.

The prisoners are well guarded, and not roughly treated, unless a

strong party of the enemy are in pursuit, when they are put to death.

On the battle ground, the wounded of the vanquished are killed, and

their dead are cut and hacked by the victors; but if it should chance

to be accessible to the squaws, they perform the chief part in this

tragedy. They sever the limbs from the bodies, and attaching them to

strings, drag them about with vociferous exultation: etiam genitalia

excidunt, and tying them about the necks of their dogs, they drive

them before them, with much shouting, laughter, noise, and obscene

expressions.

{17} A war party, after having struck a blow upon the enemy, return

with rapidity towards their village.

They leave the mutilated carcasses of the slain upon the contested

field, a prey to the wolves and vultures. Their own dead are covered

with wood or stones, and their wounded are transported on litters, on

the shoulders of others, or if they have horses with them, upon cars

of a very simple construction. Two poles are attached to the neck of

the horse, in the manner of shafts, which trail upon the ground behind.

These are so connected behind the horse, with cross pieces lashed on,

that a bison robe can be suspended to them, for the reception of the

wounded person.

If the attack is made during the night, or if the party has only

captured horses unobserved by the enemy, a mockasin or arrow is left in

a conspicuous situation, to inform the enemy of the nation to which the

aggressors belong.

Large war parties sometimes divide into smaller parties, in order to

attack simultaneously at different points. Each of these parties on

its return, at its different encampments, inserts small painted sticks

in the soil, pointing to the route they have taken. They also peel

off a portion of the bark from a tree, and on the trunk thus denuded

and rendered conspicuous, they delineate hieroglyphics with vermillion

or charcoal, indicative of the success or misfortune of the party in

their proceedings against the enemy. These hieroglyphics are rudely

drawn, but are sufficiently significant, to convey the requisite

intelligence to another division of the party that may succeed them.

On this rude chart, the combatants are generally represented by

small straight lines, each surmounted by a head-like termination,

and are readily distinguishable from each other; the arms and legs

are also represented, when necessary to record the performance of

some particular act, or to exhibit a wound. Wounds are indicated by

the representation of the {18} dropping of blood from the part; an

arrow wound, by adding a line for the arrow, from which the Indian is

able, to estimate with some accuracy, its direction, and the depth

to which it entered. The killed are represented by prostrate lines;

equestrians are also particularized, and if wounded or killed, they

are seen to spout blood, or to be in the act of falling from their

horses. Prisoners are denoted by their being led, and the number of

captured horses is made known by the number of lunules, representing

their track. The number of guns taken may be ascertained by bent lines,

on the angle of which is something like the prominences of the lock.

Women are portrayed with short petticoats and prominent breasts, and

unmarried females by the short queues at the ears, before described.

A war party, on its return, generally halts upon some elevated ground

within sight of the village; and if they have been successful, they sit

down and smoke their pipes. The villagers on discovering them rush out

to meet them, and receive a brief relation of the events that have

occurred during the expedition.

All then return to the village, exhibiting by the way the greatest

demonstrations of joy, by discharging their guns, singing war-songs,

&c. The scalps stretched upon hoops, and dried, are carried upon rods

of five or six feet in length.

Arrived at the village, some of the squaws, wives to the warriors of

the party, assume the dress of their husbands, and, with the rods

bearing the scalps in their hands, dance around a large post, reddened

with vermillion, and, in concert with the young warriors, sing the war

and scalp songs; the young warriors occasionally step into the ring of

the dancers, and all keep time, with dance and song, to the loud beat

of the gong. Into this dance are also admitted the relatives of the war

party.

This barbarous dance appears to delight them, {19} and particularly the

squaws, who are the principal actors, more than almost any other of

their enjoyments.

Indeed, it is to the squaws that many of these excursions are

attributable, as those whose husbands have not been successful in war,

frequently murmur, saying, "You have had me for a wife a long time, and

have never yet gratified me with the scalp dance."

Those squaws, whose husbands or relatives have been killed during the

excursions of the party, take no part in this blissful dance, but rub

themselves with clay, and lament.

This dance is repeated every night for two or three weeks, after which

it is renewed occasionally for a twelvemonth. The scalps are often cut

into slips, that many of the dancers may be accommodated with them;

but this was never done with an intention to deceive, respecting

the actual number of the enemy killed. After the termination of this

ceremony, the scalps are either thrown away, or are used to decorate

the leggings of the warrior, or to suspend from his medicine-bag, or

from the bridle of his horse.

Soon after the return of the party, the principal warriors are

invited to feasts by different villagers, where they recount the

events that have transpired during their absence. They narrate the

mode of approaching the enemy, the onset, the battle, all the little

particulars of which are detailed: but they seem to dwell with

particular pleasure on the conduct of individuals of the enemy, as it

appeared immediately before they received the death blow; if there was

any movement of the body, or emotion exhibited upon the countenance of

the victim, that betrayed a want of firmness, or fear of death, at that

awful juncture, the account excites much laughter in the audience. If

the disabled individual was so imbecile as to shrink from a blow of

the tomahawk {20} or war-club, he is ridiculed as a coward. If he is

said to have cried for quarter, or begged for mercy, or to have held

up the palm of his hand towards the victor to appease his vengeance,

the account is received with ridicule and laughter, at the expense of

the deceased. If, on the contrary, he is said to have perished with

that stoicism and contempt of death, which is regarded as worthy of the

Indian warrior, the auditors, although they may smile with pleasure at

the death of an enemy, yet pay due honour to his manes, saying he was a

brave fellow; and they do not fail to applaud the bravery of his victor

also.

All those of the party who have first struck a body, or taken a

prisoner, paint themselves black, and if any strangers are in the

village, they put on their _crow_, and appear before them, or near

them, and sing their war-song in which their exploits are detailed.

The prisoners are differently treated according to their sex, age, and

qualifications. Of the squaws they make slaves, or rather servants,

though these are sometimes advantageously married. To the young men

the task of tending horses is commonly assigned; but the children are

generally adopted into their families, and are treated in every respect

as their own offspring; when arrived at maturity they are identified

with the nation, and it would be an insult to apply the name of their

own countrymen to them.

{21} CHAPTER IV {II}

War—Negociation for Peace—Revenge—Self-esteem—Hospitality—Mimicry.

AN individual warrior not unfrequently goes to war unaccompanied; but

parties are generally made up for this purpose, in the manner before

mentioned. In cases of extraordinary provocation, the whole nation of

warriors marches in a body to attack the enemy, under the direction of

the principal chief.

More than twenty years ago, the Omawhaws marched against the Pawnee

Mahas or Pawnee Loups. They encountered them on their hunting grounds,

between the Platte and Quicourre[21] rivers, in the prairie, where they

attacked them, killed sixty, and wounded a great many; after securing

a number of prisoners, and many horses, they returned with their

booty, having lost but fifteen warriors. Peace was soon after concluded

between the two nations, which has not been since violated, excepting

on one occasion, when their dispute was bloodless, and of but short

duration.

[21] Now more commonly known by its Indian name of Niobrara, which

signifies the same as L'Eau qui Court (Running Water or Rapid River),

of which Quicourre is a corruption. The entire course of this river

lies in Nebraska, just below its northern boundary.—ED.

Sometime after this event, Mot-tschu-jinga, or the Little Grizzly

Bear, a brave and distinguished warrior of the nation, with two or

three attendants, visited the village of the Pawnee republicans, in

order to perform the calumet dance before the people. This was a band

with whom they were barely at peace. The republicans seized him,

flogged him, cut off his hair, broke his pipe, forced him to drink

urine mixed with bison gall, and drove him from the village without

food. These extraordinary and most humiliating indignities aroused

within him the fiercest spirit of vengeance. He returned, and related

his misfortune {22} to his people, who, penetrated with indignation,

promptly assembled in arms, and led by the great Washingguhsahba, or

Black Bird, marched to revenge such unheard-of indignity. When within

a short distance of the devoted village, they placed their squaws in a

secure situation, under a proper guard, and proceeded to the attack.

They urged the contest so fiercely that the enemy was driven from lodge

to lodge, until four lodges only were left to them, in which they

succeeded in defending themselves; the town, with the exception only of

the four lodges, was then burned to the ground, and the victors retired

after destroying nearly one hundred of the enemy, and wounding a great

number, with the loss to themselves of only fifteen warriors.

Under the same great leader, the nation, on another occasion, attacked

the Puncaws; this act was induced by the practice of the latter of

stealing squaws and horses from the Omawhaws. The Puncaws, for the

purpose of defending themselves against the fire of the enemy, threw

up an earthen embankment; but finding, notwithstanding the protection

it afforded them, that their numbers rapidly diminished under the

galling fire opposed to them, they determined to sue for peace; for

this purpose two pipe-bearers were sent out successively towards the

enemy, but they were both shot down. A chief then dressed up his

handsome daughter, and sent her forth with a pipe to the Omawhaws. This

mission was respected, the stern victors were vanquished by beauty, the

proffered pipe was accepted, and unhesitatingly smoked, and a peace was

concluded, which has not since been infracted by the Omawhaws. Soon

after the death of Washingguhsahba, his successor Mushchinga, the Big

Rabbit, led the nation against the Otoes, whom they attacked in their

village. It was the intention of the assailants to burn the village,

and exterminate the nation. With this view they provided themselves

with dry grass, which was twisted into the form of thick ropes, {23}

and secured to their girdles. When within the proper distance they

despatched a detachment to take ambush on the opposite side of the

village, then kindled a fire, at which they lighted the grass torches,

and rushing into the village, succeeded in setting many of the lodges

on fire, by fixing the torches to them. Such was the fury of the

unexpected attack, that the Oto warriors were driven from the village,

but falling into the ambuscade, they fought their way back to their

lodges with much slaughter. A heavy fall of rain now commenced, which

rescued the remaining Otoes from entire destruction. The conflagration

was quickly extinguished, the guns and bow-strings of the invaders

became useless, and the Otoes sallying out with fresh weapons, forced

them to a precipitate retreat. The loss was severe on both sides, but

the Omawhaws succeeded in carrying off almost all the horses of the

enemy, besides a number of prisoners, furniture, &c. The war continued

between these two nations until the pacification which was accomplished

through the agency of Lewis and Clark, and has continued to the present

day.

Reverting to the period of the government of Washingguhsahba, we are

informed that the Padoucas once approached the nation, and stole

a number of horses, when this chief assembled his warriors, and

pursued them; observing the tracks of their feet in the soft earth,

he discharged his gun repeatedly into them, declaring that thereby

he would cripple the fugitives so entirely, that it would be easy to

overtake and destroy them. Accordingly he did overtake them, and,

agreeably to the Indian account, they were unable to defend themselves,

and were all destroyed but two or three, who escaped, and failed not to

inform their people of the wonderful medicine of the victor.

The last martial expedition of Washingguhsahba, terminated disastrously

for his nation. He led his warriors against the Konzas, halted them

near the {24} village of that people, and singly rode round the

village, repeatedly discharging his gun at the inhabitants, as he

passed swiftly by them. As soon as the Konza warriors were collected,

they sallied out in pursuit of the Black Bird, who had now joined his

party. The parties closed, and intermingled in fight, and the contest

was obstinate and protracted. An Omawhaw pierced the thigh of a Konza

with an arrow; the latter called aloud to inquire the name of his

adversary, and was answered, No-zun-doj-je (he who does not dodge).

"My name," said the Konza, "is —— (he who kills brave men), so come

on, we are happily met." They approached each other, leaping laterally

and capering, the Omawhaw discharging his arrows, and the Konza

endeavouring to get aim with his fusee; the latter at length succeeded,

and shot his opponent.

The conflict at length became too warm for the Omawhaws, who retreated

eight miles, disputing the ground, however, the whole distance. They

now arrived at the prairie, on which we encamped on the evening of the

24th of August last.

Here the Omawhaws again made a stand, and fought the principal battle,

but were overpowered, and obliged to fly, leaving their numerous killed

and wounded to the vengeance of the enemy.

These two nations still continue hostile to each other.

It is said that during the youth of Washingguhsahba, he was taken

prisoner by the Sioux. That the town of the Omawhaws, was then on the

opposite bank of the Missouri, at the mouth of the stream called by

Lewis and Clark, Floyd's river,[22] and that the nation had not, at

that time, been long resident there.

[22] Sergeant Floyd, of the Lewis and Clark expedition, died here in

August, 1804, whence the name of the stream, which it still bears. Its

mouth is on the Iowa side, just below Sioux City.—ED.

Some time previous to the variolous mortality in the Omawhaw nation,

several bands of Sioux, in conjunction with the Shienne nation,[23]

attacked them on their return from a summer hunt, and overpowered them

by numbers.

[23] On the Cheyenne, see Bradbury's _Travels_, in our volume v, note

88.—ED.

{25} A few years since, the Pawnees made a general attack upon the

Konza village. They were all mounted on horseback, and rode furiously

about, whilst they fired into the Konza lodges. The principal chief of

the nation, Burning Heart, ran through his village, calling out to his

warriors to remain quietly in their houses for the present, and not

show themselves to the enemy, or return their fire, in order to give

them time to tire out their horses by continued action. After a while a

few shots were returned, to prevent the Pawnees from rushing into the

town itself, and when the horses appeared to be sufficiently fatigued,

Burning Heart despatched two strong parties from the opposite end of

the village from that upon which the attack was made, one of which,

moving rapidly upon their hands and knees, gained a ravine, along which

they ran until they gained the enemy's rear: they were here joined by

the other party, which had gained the same situation by means of a

lower prairie, along the bank of which they passed unperceived. Finding

themselves thus out-generaled, the Pawnees were under the necessity of

charging through the enemy, and flying with jaded horses before them.

So rapid was the pursuit, that the Pawnees were obliged to precipitate

themselves into the ravines, over which they must pass, to the

destruction of many of their horses. Finally, they made their escape,

with the loss of eighty men, and the greater part of their horses.

When a hunting party is suddenly attacked by an enemy, the squaws,

whilst their husbands are engaged in opposing the enemy, sedulously

occupy themselves in digging basin-shaped pits with their hoes, for

their personal security, and stooping down in them, escape the missiles

of the contending parties; their husbands, if too hard pressed, also

retreat to these cavities, from which they can continue the action with

very little exposure of their own persons, whilst the enemy possesses

no shelter.

{26} Besides the national battles, in which great waste of life occurs,

small war parties, or such as have been already described, are almost

constantly in motion, and are also destructive.

The Serpent's Head, a distinguished Oto warrior, assembled a war

party of thirty men, and moved against the Konzas. Within a few

miles of their village, at a narrow defile on Blue-earth Creek, he

placed his party in ambush, and with two or three selected men, he

advanced to within a hundred yards of the village. At the dawn of

day a Konza, having occasion to walk a short distance, was attacked

by the Serpent's Head singly, who buried his tomahawk in his head,

and took off his scalp, within view of many of the villagers. These

seized their weapons, and immediately pursued the fugitives, until

they reached the pass, where, falling into the ambuscade prepared for

their reception, they lost seven of their number, and were obliged to

retreat precipitately, to seek the protection of the main body of their

warriors, who, they supposed, were now in pursuit, and at no great

distance in the rear.

The Otoes, after striking and scalping the slain, proceeded on their

way home, at a very moderate pace, not caring to elude the powerful

force, which they well knew must be hard by. The Konza warriors,

dashing on at full speed, at length discovered the retreating band,

moving at their leisure over a prairie, and immediately attacked them.

The Otoes withstood the shock of the overwhelming force for some time,

until, losing a number of their party, they were under the necessity of

seeking safety in flight.

An Oto hunting party, consisting of five lodges, was encamped in the

vicinity of the Konza hunting grounds; two or three of their number,

who were at a distance from their companions, encountered a young Konza

warrior, who deliberately approached {27} them, and when sufficiently

near discharged his gun at them, but was immediately shot down.

The Otoes suspecting, from some appearances, the proximity of a large

body of the enemy, precipitately returned to their party, and hastened

to place themselves in an attitude of defence. They availed themselves

of three large logs, which had fallen so as to form a triangular area,

into which they removed their effects, and strengthened the defences in

such a manner as to afford them some security.

The squaws dug cavities in the earth for themselves, and their

children, as an additional security.

Scarcely were these preparations finished, when the whole body of

the Konza warriors made their appearance, and commenced the attack

on this little body of fifteen Otoes. These gallant fellows, thus

advantageously posted, notwithstanding the fearful odds opposed to

them, returned the fire of the enemy promptly, and at length succeeded

in repulsing them, with the loss of two or three of their own men, and

after having killed about fifteen of the Konzas.

The following trait in the character of a distinguished warrior is

worthy of being recorded. During the residence of the Pawnees on the

Platte at the cedar hills, about fifteen or eighteen years since, the

Otoes were frequently at war with them, notwithstanding their own great

numerical inferiority. On one occasion, during a pacific interval,

some Otoes followed the Pawnees, who had just left their village on a

national hunt, and stole two horses from them. This outrage, committed

in time of peace, highly incensed Wasacaruja: "If you wish for war,"

said he to the offenders, as he mounted his horse, "you shall have it."

He rode immediately, in his anger, to the deserted Pawnee village, and

setting fire to the lodges, burned them all to the ground.

On their return, the Pawnees, finding their village destroyed, they

marched in a body to the Otoes, {28} and demanded satisfaction for the

injury they had received. Wasacaruja, perhaps, penitent for his rash

act, and no doubt now wishing to avert the hostilities which he had

incited, advanced to them at once, saying "I am the person who burned

your town, kill me if you will." This however the Pawnees declined,

and were at length reconciled to their loss, by presents of horses and

merchandize. They then removed from the vicinity of the Otoes, and

erected their present village on the Loup fork of the Platte.

The Otoes, as well as the Konza warriors, will not, on any

consideration, sit down whilst on a war excursion, until evening; they

will lie down, and stoop down, but they must not rest upon the ground

in a sitting posture.

An Upsaroka, or Crow, war party, who were hovering about the Rickaree

village, waiting an opportunity to strike a blow, observed a boy

entirely alone, and at a distance from any succour; having a boy

belonging to the party much of the same size, they permitted him to

attack the Rickaree boy singly; the assailant was successful, and

brought off the scalp of the enemy.

One of the warriors then took the scalp, and rode with it near to the

village in defiance.

During the last seven or eight years, since they have become influenced

by the agents of the United States, the Omawhaws have entirely

abstained from carrying the war into the country of their enemies; no

unprovoked parties have been sent out, and the nation, agreeably to the

injunctions of the agents, restricts its military operations solely to

defensive warfare. Partial attacks have been made upon them during

this time, which have always been promptly repelled, sometimes with

considerable slaughter.

That implicit confidence may be justly reposed upon, at least, some of

this people, the following anecdote will testify.

{29} In the year 1815 the Ioways came to the mouth of the Platte river,

and found there a trader engaged in trafficking with the Otoes. They

attempted to take possession of his merchandize by force, but were

opposed and repelled by the Otoes, who determined to protect their

trader. The Ioways, however, threatened the trader to plunder him as

soon as the Otoes should depart, whose provisions being now nearly

exhausted, the fears of the trader for his safety became more excited,

in proportion as the time of their departure approached. He despatched

a boy with a letter to his partner, Mr. Lisa, then trading at Council

Bluff, a distance of thirty miles, informing him of his situation, and

of the fact, which had but then come to his knowledge, that the Ioways

had formed a small party for the purpose of visiting Council Bluff, and

committing some depredations there.

On the reception of this intelligence, Mr. Lisa sent a favourite

Omawhaw, Wa-co-ra, to accompany the boy with his reply.

In the meantime the Ioway party had set out, and after travelling a

considerable distance, the partizan became lame, and was left with a

companion on the way.

Wacora, fortunately, did not meet the party, but he saw the partizan

with his companion, calmly seated in fancied security, amongst the

thick bushes. He crept silently near to them, who were distinctly

recognized by the boy, and discharging his gun, broke the arm of the

partizan's companion.

The partizan immediately perceiving the aggressor to be an Omawhaw,

exclaimed, "I am a half Omawhaw; I was going to war against the

Long-knives, not against the Omawhaws; shoot no more, you have wounded

one of us." Wacora answered, "I am a Long-knife," upon which the

wounded man made a charge with a lance, and had nearly transfixed the

boy, when Wacora shot him; he {30} afterwards killed the partizan, and

bore off their scalps. Finding now the trail of the party, which he

readily ascertained by their tracks, to consist of nine persons, he

determined to return immediately with his utmost speed, even at the

risk of meeting with the party, in order to inform Mr. Lisa of their

presence in his vicinity; this he accomplished at the imminent hazard

of his life. Thus proving that the most unlimited confidence might be

safely reposed in his faithful performance of his trusts.

Warriors often venture singly into the vicinity of an enemy's village,

and even into the village itself, to capture horses or kill one of the

nation. The Borgne, or One Eye, Ka-ko-a-kis, late grand chief of the

Minnetarees, entered the village of an enemy at night, with his robe

covering his head for concealment. He passed into several lodges, until

at length he found one tenanted, at the moment, only by a young squaw;

he drew his knife, compelled her to submit to his desires, then stabbed

her to the heart, and bore off her scalp. He was a chief possessed of

much power, but was almost universally disliked as a very bad man, and

was at length killed by the Red-shield chief, E-tam-ina-geh-iss-sha.[24]

[24] On Le Borgne see Bradbury's _Travels_, in our volume v, note

98.—ED.

The warriors often meet together and narrate, emulously, their war

exploits; two of them were one day thus engaged, one of whom, Wa-ke-da,

or the Shooter, had killed more enemies than any other individual

of his nation, although he had never _struck_ more than two or three

bodies of the slain. They continued for some time to boast of their

feats, when the father of Wakeda, an old man of seventy years, in

order to terminate the altercation, leaped from his seat, and, after

_striking_ upon several nations, concluded by the following witticism:

"I approached the Pawnee-mahaws alone, for the purpose of stealing

horses. I entered their village in the evening, succeeded in getting

into one of their stalls, and was proceeding to take out the horses,

when I was surrounded {31} and made prisoner. They flogged me, thrust

a stick into my anus, and sent me off, with the stick depending like a

tail." This, as was intended, terminated the boasting, and the parties

joined in general good humour.

Their notions of the attributes of bravery differ in many respects

from those which we entertain of them. It is, in their estimation, no

proof either of valour or good sense, for a warrior to advance into the

plain, stand still, and suffer his enemy to take deliberate aim, in

order to shoot him down, when such a course of conduct can be avoided;

but they say that when a warrior goes to battle, it is a duty, which

is due to himself, to his nation, and to his friends, to avail himself

of every possible advantage over his enemy, and even to kill him, if

he can, without any risk of his own person. But a warrior must never

yield in battle; he must contend until death, if he cannot escape from

his enemy. And if entirely surrounded, he rushes amongst them, and

endeavours to destroy or injure as many as possible, and in death he

exhibits traits of passive courage, which form no part of the character

of civilized men.

The succeeding narrative may serve, better than any general remarks,

to convey an idea of the formalities attendant on a negociation for

peace, amongst the Missouri Indians.

During the stay of our detached party at the Konza village, several

chief men of the nation requested Mr. Dougherty to lead a pacific

deputation from their nation, to their enemies the Otoes, Missouries,

and Ioways, then dwelling in one village on the Platte. Circumstances

then prevented the gratification of their wishes, but he gave them to

understand, that if the deputation would meet our party near Council

Bluff, he would probably then be authorized to bear them company; on

which they determined to send a party thither. Accordingly, on {32} the

day preceding the arrival of our steam-boat at the position chosen for

our winter cantonment, a deputation from the Konzas arrived for that

purpose. It consisted of six men, led by He-roch-che, or the Real War

Eagle, one of the principal warriors of the Konza nation.

Mr. Dougherty having made their pacific mission known to Major

O'Fallon, the latter expressed to them his cordial approbation of their

intentions, and the following day he despatched Mr. Dougherty with

them, to protect them by his presence, on their approach to the enemy,

and to assist them by his mediation, in their negociations, should it

be found necessary.

They had not proceeded far on the way, when one of the Indians inquired

if the Sioux war parties were often in the neighbourhood. Mr. Dougherty

informed them that they were; that they had killed an Oto some time

since, and more recently, four Omawhaw squaws. This intelligence

induced Herochshe to request the loan of Mr. Dougherty's gun; they all

looked sharply about them, and requested their guide to take the lead.

The distance to the Oto village is about twenty-five miles; on the

journey over the prairies, they espied an object at a distance,

which was mistaken for a man, standing upon an eminence. The Indians

immediately halted, when Herochshe addressed them, with the assurance

that they must put their trust in the Master of life, and in their

leader; and observed, that, having journeyed thus far on their

business, they must not return until their purpose was accomplished;

that if it was their lot to die, no event could save them; "We have set

out my braves,"[25] said he, "to eat of the Otoes' victuals, and we

must do so or die;" the party then proceeded {33} onward. The Indians

are always very cautious when approaching an enemy's village, on any

occasion, and this party well knew that their enterprize was full of

danger.

[25] When on a war excursion, or a pacific mission, the Indians always

address their companions in this manner: "My companion, my brave. My

brother, my brave."—JAMES.

In a short time they were again brought to a halt, by the appearance of

a considerable number of men and horses, that were advancing towards

them. After some consultation and reconnoitring, they sat down upon the

ground, and lighting the peace-pipe, or calumet, Herochshe directed

the stem of it towards the objects of their suspicion, saying, "smoke

friend or foe;" he then directed it towards the Oto village, towards

the white people, towards heaven, and the earth, successively.

The strangers, however, proved to be drovers, with cattle for the

troops, on their way to Council Bluff.

In consequence of being thus detained, it was late in the afternoon

when the party arrived at the Platte river, and as they had still eight

miles to travel, and it was indispensable to their safety that they

should reach the village before dark, Mr. Dougherty urged his horse

rapidly forwards. The Indians, who were all on foot, ran the whole

distance, halting but twice, in order to cross the Elk Horn and Platte

rivers, although one of them was upwards of sixty years of age, and

three of the others were much advanced in years.

As they drew near the Oto village, they were discovered by some boys,

who were collecting their horses together for the night, and who, in a

telegraphic manner, communicated intelligence of their approach, to the

people of the village, by throwing their robes into the air.

The party was soon surrounded by the inhabitants, who rushed towards

them, riding and running with the greatest impetuosity. The greatest

confusion reigned for some time, the Otoes shouting, hallooing, and

screaming, whilst their Konza visitors lamented aloud. Shaumonekusse

soon arrived, and restored a {34} degree of order, when, the business

of the mission being made known in a few words, the Konzas were taken

up behind some of the horsemen, and conveyed as rapidly as possible to

the lodge of Shongotongo, lest personal violence should be offered them

on the way. They did not, however, escape the audible maledictions of

the squaws as they passed, but were stigmatized as wrinkled-faced old

men, with hairy chins, &c., ugly faces, and flat noses.

After running this species of gauntlet, they were quietly seated in

the lodge, where they were sure of protection. A squaw, however,

whose husband had been recently killed by the Konzas, rushed into the

lodge, with the intention of seeking vengeance by killing one of the

ambassadors on the spot. She stood suddenly before Herochshe, and

seemed a very demon of fury. She caught his eye, and at the instant,

with all her strength, she aimed a blow at his breast with a large

knife, which was firmly grasped in her right hand, and which she seemed

confident of sheathing in his heart. At that truly hopeless moment,

the countenance of the warrior remained unchanged, and even exhibited

no emotion whatever; and when the knife approached its destination,

with the swiftness of lightning, his eyes stood firm, nor were its lids

seen to quiver; so far from recoiling, or raising his arm to avert the

blow, that he even rather protruded his breast, to meet that death

which seemed inevitable, and which was only averted by the sudden

interposition of the arm of one of her nation, that received the weapon

to its very bone.

Thus foiled in her attempt, the squaw was gently led out of the lodge,

and no one offered her violence, or even harsh reproof. No further

notice was taken of this transaction by either party.

Food was then, as usual, placed before the strangers, and soon after

a warrior entered with a pipe, which he held whilst Herochshe smoked,

saying in a loud voice, "you tell us that you wish for peace, I say, I

{35} will give you a horse, let us see which will be the liar, you or

I." The horse was presented to him.

The evening, and much of the night was passed in friendly conversation

respecting the events of the five years' war which they had waged with

each other.

On the following morning the Konzas were called to partake of the

hospitality of different lodges, whilst the principal men of the

village were assembled in council, to deliberate upon the subject of

concluding a peace.

At noon the joint and grand council was held in the Crenier's lodge.

The Otoes, Missouries, and Ioways took their seats around the

apartment, with the Konzas in the centre. Herochshe, whose business

it was first to speak, holding the bowl of the calumet in his hand,

remained immovable for the space of three-fourths of an hour, when

he arose, pointed the stem of the calumet towards each of the three

nations successively, then towards heaven, and the earth, after which

he stretched out his arm, with the palm of the hand towards the members

of the council, moving round with his body so as to present the palm

towards each of the members in succession. He then proceeded to shake

each individual by the hand, after which he returned to his place, and

renewed the motion of the hand as before.

Having performed all these introductory formalities, he stood firm

and erect, though perfectly easy and unconstrained, and with a bold

expression of countenance, loud voice, and emphatical gesticulation, he

thus addressed the council.

"Fathers, brothers, chiefs, warriors, and brave men. You are all great

men. I am a poor obscure individual. It has, however, become my duty to

inform you, that the chiefs and warriors of my nation, sometime ago,

held a council for the purpose of concerting measures, to terminate

amicably, the cruel and unwelcome war, that has so long existed between

us, and chose me, all insignificant as I am, to {36} bring to you this

pipe which I hold in my hand. I have visited your village, that we

might all smoke from the same pipe, and eat from the same bowl, with

the same spoon, in token of our future union in friendship.

"On approaching your village, my friends and relatives, I thought I had

not long to live. I expected that you would kill me, and these poor men

who have followed me. But I received encouragement from the reflection,

that if it should be my fate to die to-day, I would not have to die

to-morrow, and I relied firmly upon the Master of life.

"Nor was this anticipation of death unwarranted by precedent. You may

recollect that five winters ago, six warriors of my nation came to

you, as I have now done, and that you killed them all, but one, who had

the good fortune to escape. This circumstance was vivid in my memory

when I yesterday viewed your village in the distance; said I, those

warriors who preceded me in the attempt to accomplish this desirable

object, although they were greater and more brave than I, yet were

they killed by those whom they came to conciliate, and why shall not I

share their fate; if so, my bones will bleach near theirs. If, on the

contrary, I should escape death, I will visit the bones of my friends.

The oldest of my followers here, was father-in-law to the chief of

those slaughtered messengers; he is poor and infirm, and has followed

me with difficulty; his relatives, also, are poor, and have been long

lamenting the loss of the chief you killed. I hope you will have pity

on him, and give him a pair of mockasins (meaning a horse) to return

home with, for he cannot walk. Two or three others of my companions are

also in want of mockasins for their journey homeward.

"My friends! we wish for peace, and we are tired of war; there is a

large tract of country, intervening between us, from which, as it is

so constantly {37} traversed by our respective hostile parties, we

cannot either of us kill the game in security, to furnish our traders

with peltries. I wish to see a large level road over that country,

connecting our villages together, near which no one can conceal himself

in order to kill passengers, and that our squaws may be enabled to

visit from village to village in safety, and not be urged by fear, to

cast off their packs, and betake themselves to the thickets, when they

see any person on the route. Our nations have made peace frequently,

but a peace has not hitherto been of long duration. I hope, however,

that which we shall now establish will continue one day, two days,

three days, four days, five days. My friends! what I have told you is

true; I was not sent here to tell you lies. That is all I have to say."

Herochshe then lit his pipe, and presented the stem to the brother of

the Crenier, Wa-sac-a-ru-ja, or He who eats raw, who had formerly been

his intimate friend. The latter held the end of the stem in his hand,

whilst he looked Herochshe full in the face, for a considerable space

of time. At length he most emphatically asked, "Is all true that you

have spoken." The other, striking himself repeatedly and forcibly upon

the breast, answered with a loud voice, "Yes! It is all truth that I

have spoken." Wasacaruja, without any further hesitation, accepted the

proffered pipe, and smoked, whilst Herochshe courteously held the bowl

of it in his hand; the latter warrior then held it in succession to

each member of the council, who respectively took a whiff or two, after

which the pipe itself was presented to Wasacaruja to retain.

It is impossible to convey an adequate idea of the energy, and

propriety, with which this speech was delivered, or of the dignity

and self-possession of the speaker. Before he commenced, he hesitated

and looked around upon his enemies, probably in order to trace in the

lineaments of their countenances, the {38} expression of their feelings

towards him. He then began his address, by raising his voice at once to

its full intonation, producing a truly powerful effect upon the ear, by

a contrast with the deep and long continued silence which preceded it.

He was at no loss for subject or for words, but proceeded right onwards

to the close of his speech, like a full-flowing, bold, and impetuous

stream.

Wasacaruja, in consequence of having first accepted of the calumet,

was now regarded as responsible for the sincerity of his friend

Herochshe. He therefore arose, and thus addressed the ambassador. "My

friend! I am glad to see you on such an occasion as the present, and

to hear that your voice is for peace. But I can hardly believe that we

can ever rest in a permanent peace. A few winters ago, when we were in

friendship with each other, I visited your village, and you gave me

all your people, saying, that all the Konzas were mine. But it was not

long afterwards, as we hunted near your country, that you stole our

horses and killed some of our people, and I cannot but believe that

the same course will be again pursued. Nevertheless, I shall again

repair to the same place, of which I have spoken, this autumn, for the

purpose of hunting, and in the spring I will again visit your town. You

observed that you were apprehensive of being killed as you approached

our village; and you most probably would have been so, coming as you

did, late in the evening, and without the usual formality of sending a

messenger to apprize us of your approach, had you not been accompanied

by the Big-knife with whom you are so well acquainted. But we have now

smoked together, and I hope that the peace thus established, may long

continue. You say that you are in want of mockasins, we will endeavour

to give you one or two for your journey home. That is all I have to

say."

Herochshe then apologized for his unceremonious {39} entrance into the

village, by saying that he knew it to be customary, to send forward a

runner on such an occasion, and he should have done so, but his friend,

the Big-knife, whom he had previously consulted with that view, told

him, that he had full confidence in the magnanimity of the Otoes.

Thus the ceremony was concluded, and peace restored between the two

nations.

Numerous are the anecdotes already related by various authors, which

go to show, that the desire of revenge for an injury or insult is

remarkably permanent with the North American Indian. It would almost

seem, that neither time nor circumstance can utterly eradicate it, and

it is certain that it is not always extinguished with the life of the

offended individual, but that it sometimes descends as an inheritance

to his posterity.

A Puncaw warrior was killed in a quarrel, over the carcass of a bison,

by a noted desperado of his own nation. The deceased left two sons, the

elder of whom, in the course of a few years, became of sufficient age

to hunt, and had the good fortune, in his first essay, to kill a fine

bison. Whilst he was occupied in taking off the skin from his prey,

he espied the murderer of his father approaching, who took his stand

near the young hunter, and regarded him with a stern aspect. "Look up,"

said the intruder; the young man proceeded with his occupation. "I

say, look at me;" reiterated the other, "do you know who I am? begone

from this carcass, it is mine." The young hunter then raised his eyes

to the countenance of him, whom he had long been taught to consider

as his enemy, and fiercely retorted the dark malignant scowl which

was concentrated there; then gathering his bow and arrows, he slowly

retired a short distance, and turning, perceived that the warrior had

already taken possession of his prize. "Yes," he exclaimed, bending his

bow, "I do know you well; you are the murderer of my {40} father, and

are the cause of my being an orphan." As he spoke, he discharged an

arrow, which pierced the heart of his enemy, who fell dead; the victor,

however, continued to feather his body with arrows, until his quiver

was exhausted. He then returned to the village and related his story

to the people, who rejoiced at the death of a common disturber of the

peace, and no one was found who wished to revenge his death.

Vengeance is sometimes transferred from an immediate to a remote

object. The Otoes being on one occasion encamped near Mr. Lisa's

trading establishment, many of their number became intoxicated with

whiskey, and troublesome to the traders. But in order that the latter

might not receive personal injury, two warriors were appointed by

the chiefs to stand guard at the door of the house, with orders to

repel all drunken individuals. Having consumed all the whiskey that

had been given them, they clamorously demanded more, but the trader

persisted in refusing it to them. Incensed at this denial, the grand

chief Shongatonga, who was himself slightly intoxicated, went into

the house, and meeting one of the traders near the door, he gave him

a slight push with his hand, unobserved by Hashea, the Cut-nose, who

was then on guard. The act, however, was perceived by an Indian who

reclined against an outhouse, at a little distance, smoking his pipe.

He advanced, apparently with perfect indifference, and taking up a

keg, the only weapon which presented, he approached Shongatonga, and

discharged it with all his strength, full upon the head of that chief,

who was knocked down senseless by the violence of the blow.

The Little Soldier, a brother-in-law of Shongatonga, who was present

at this assault, immediately seized his tomahawk, and making a threat,

rushed out of the house, his silver armbands and other ornaments, with

which he is usually profusely decorated, {41} sounding as he passed; he

halted for an instant at the door, in order to distinguish some object

on which to wreak his vengeance; espying amongst the crowd of Otoes,

one from whom he had received an injury fifteen years before, which

deprived him of the sight of one eye, he pursued him, and with a blow

of his tomahawk brought him to the ground; this unfortunate individual,

like his victor, had also lost an eye, and in this rencontre the

remaining one was destroyed.

Hashea, the guard, observing that the Indians were becoming very

disorderly, drew his knife, declaring that he would kill the first

individual of them he could meet with, and pursuing the canaille,

they fled in every direction. During this interval an inferior Indian

entered the store, and pointing with his finger near to the face of

Mr. Lisa, said in a threatening tone, "You are the cause of all this

disturbance;" the latter immediately kicked him out of the house; on

which the Indian in a rage, declared he would revenge himself for an

injury so gross. Seeking some object to destroy, he encountered a sow

and pigs, and appeased his rage by putting them all to death. The

Little Soldier now returned, and found that his relative had recovered.

Order was at length restored by the mediation of Mr. Dougherty.

But instances are not rare, in which an Indian is unwilling to punish

an injury inflicted on himself, even when retaliation is amply in

his power. As the troops were ascending the river, as usual, by the

aid of the cordelle, several Oto Indians were sitting on the river

bank at the establishment of the Missouri fur company, quietly

smoking their pipes, and apparently much interested in the movements

before them. One of them was accosted by a soldier, who had left his

cordelle for the purpose, with an offer to purchase the pipe he was

then using; but the Indian would not part with it, saying, he had

no other to bear him company in his hunting excursions. {42} The

soldier requested permission to examine it, but as soon as the Indian

put the pipe into his hands, he twisted the bowl from the handle

and ran off with it. The Indian in company with one of the traders,

immediately pursued the thief to his boat, and demanded the pipe;

but obtaining no satisfaction, he came to Engineer Cantonment, and

stated the circumstance to Major O'Fallon, who assured him that his

influence should not be wanting to procure the pipe again, and to have

the offender punished by a very severe whipping. The Indian, however,

with more mercy than justice, replied, that he would extremely regret

the infliction of any punishment whatever upon the soldier, and he

desired it might not be done; all he wished for was the recovery of his

property.

The Omawhaws consider themselves superior, in the scale of beings, to

all other animals, and appear to regard them as having been formed for

their benefit. They will sometimes say, when speaking of a bad person,

"he is no better than a brute." It is true that a magician tells his

auditors that "a grizzly bear whispered in my ear, and gave me this

medicine:" but his meaning is that the Wahconda, in the shape of that

animal, had communicated with him.

Neither do they seem to suppose that the inferior animals accompany

them to the other world, though they expect to pursue their occupation

of hunting there.

In their opinion, the Wahconda has been more profuse in his

distribution of gifts to the white people, than to the red-skins;

particularly in imparting to us the knowledge of letters, whereby the

result of experience is so readily transmitted from one person to

another, so as to seem like the operation of some great mystic medicine.

But they claim a superiority in natural intelligence, and readily

perceive that they are more {43} active, have a greater capacity for

undergoing, with fortitude, the many evils to which they are subject

in every situation and season, such as exposure to great heat and

cold, hunger, thirst, and pain. They appear to esteem themselves more

brave, more generous and hospitable to strangers than the white people;

and these beneficent virtues with them, like the mental operations of

faith, hope, and charity of the Christians, mark the perfect man.

They regard the white people, as very deficient in one of these

cardinal virtues. They have been told by Indians, who have visited our

settlements, that on entering the lodge of a white man, they will be

informed that he has eaten his dinner, he will not, at least, set any

food before them, and if they remain in the house, nothing is offered

them until night, and even then, probably, but a stinted portion. The

meanness of such demeanour they despise.

If a white man, or any stranger, enters the habitation of an Indian,

he is not asked if he has dined, or if he is hungry, but independently

of the time of the day or night, the pot is put upon the fire, and if

there is but a single pound of meat in the possession of the family,

that pound is cooked and set before him, and even if he has but just

arisen from a feast, he must taste of the food, or offence is given.

History has recorded, with high commendation, the name of a dethroned

Christian monarch, who shared his last loaf of bread with a suppliant

stranger; and surely a similar act in the Indian, although it be

influenced by education and custom, is entitled to respect and applause.

They look upon the traffic in the necessaries of life, such as meat

and maize, amongst the individuals of a nation, as contemptible. Such

commerce they consider as a very unfavourable trait in the character of

the white man; they, however, avail themselves of it in their dealings

with him, provided he wants a considerable supply of those necessaries.

{44} The food which is set before a guest, is, in every respect,

considered as exclusively his own; he may give it to whom he may think

proper, either within or without the lodge; he may even take it with

him to his own lodgings, but the including vessel, must, in either

case, be returned.

Much more food is usually served up to a guest than he can possibly

eat, and when he has satisfied his hunger, if he return the remainder

to the host, the latter thanks him for it, as if he had received a

favour.

So exemplary is their hospitality, that every stranger, even an enemy,

is protected in the habitation of an Omawhaw, as far as the power and

influence of the owner extends; he is immediately invited to sit down,

and no questions are put to him. The master of the house is evidently

ill at ease, until the food is prepared for eating, he will request

his squaws to expedite it, and will even stir the fire himself. When

the guest has finished his meal, the pipe is handed to him to smoke,

after which the conversation begins either vocally or by signs. As soon

as it is known that a stranger is in the village, he is invited to

various feasts, at each of which he must reciprocate the politeness of

the host, by partaking of his fare; the stranger is not unfrequently

followed from lodge to lodge by several persons, who wish to secure him

as a guest in their turn.

In the kindest spirit of hospitality, they are always careful to treat

their guests in the manner which they suppose will be most agreeable to

them. A trader was invited to a feast, and the food being prepared, a

squaw who was about to serve it up, in order to clean a bowl to contain

it, began to scoop it with her curved finger. Her husband observing

this usual mode of depuration, reprimanded her, saying, "I have told

you that the white people do not like to see bowls cleaned in that

manner, give me the vessel, and I will show you how they clean {45}

them." He then drew out one corner of his breech-clout, and substituted

it for a towel, wiped the bowl thoroughly, and returned it to the

squaw. The trader, as in duty bound, tasted of the contents, but he

would have preferred the agency of the finger of the squaw, to that of

the old breech-clout of the husband.

An unknown stranger is led to the lodge of the principal chief, where

the inhabitants collect to see him, and do not hesitate to gratify

their curiosity, by looking steadfastly in his face. The stranger, if

an Indian, appears perfectly at his ease, not seeming to notice the

crowd that surrounds him, in order that he may not encounter their

eyes. After he has eaten and smoked, he delivers his message, states

his business, or tells the news. If he is seated in a small skin lodge,

which contains but few persons, one of these will repeat his words

aloud, that the crowd without may hear.

They are pleased with the society of the Canadian French, but they

do not appear to respect them highly, because they permit too much

familiarity, and are not forward in revenging an insult. The Spaniards,

probably from the representations of the Pawnees, who war against

them, are held in but little esteem. But it is readily perceivable,

as well from their own deportment as from the representations of the

French, that they respect the character of the Americans (citizens of

the United States) above that of any other nation, because, they are

pleased to say, we are the bravest of the white people. Previously

to the late war between the United States and Great Britain, the

British are said to have been deemed most valorous. But, say they, the

Ioways have informed us, that, at the commencement of the war, the

British promised to give the Indians who took part with them in the

contest, all the territory that lies westward of a great river, (the

Ohio,) over which they declared they would drive {46} the Americans.

Their subsequent inability to comply with this promise, together with

an indistinct idea of some of the conflicts, both by land and water,

on our Canadian frontier, lead them to suppose that the Americans

conquered in that war, and that they are now the most powerful of the

nations of the earth.

Like the ancients the Indians have no rhymes in their poetry. They

imitate the sounds of the voice of various animals, and of some, with

so much success, as to deceive even such persons as are familiar with

the animals thus imitated. This mimicry extends to the voices of the

bear, bison, deer, wolves, prairie dog, turkey, owl, &c. together with

those of some smaller birds, the notes of which are simple. But in

these imitations we knew of no individual, whose art enabled him to

execute so great a variety of notes, and with so much melody, as we

have heard from civilized performers, who have publicly exhibited their

talents in this way, in our cities.

An Indian at his temporary night encampment, hearing the unexpected

cry of an owl, wolf, &c., is generally suspicious of its proceeding

from a human enemy, who is thus endeavouring to lull him into fancied

security; such sounds being often made by war parties, on their

nocturnal approach to their victims, to induce a belief that the

animals around them are undisturbed.

They also imitate the motions of different animals, playfully,

sometimes grotesquely, in their dances.

{47} CHAPTER V {III}

Tribes and Bands—Fabulous Legends—Wit—Ninnegahe, or Mixed

Tobacco—Dances—Otoes—Migrations—Language.

THE Omawhaw nation is divided into two principal sections or tribes,

which are distinguished by the names Honga-sha-no and Ish-ta-sun-da;

the latter means Grey Eyes.

The first-mentioned tribe is subdivided into eight bands, viz.

1. _Wase-ish-ta._—This band is interdicted from eating the flesh of

male deer or male elk, in consequence of having their great medicine,

which is a large shell, enveloped in the prepared skin of those

animals. The chief of this band is the Big Elk, Ongpatungah; and it is

more powerful and numerous in individuals than either of the others.

The shell, which is regarded as an object of great sanctity and

superstitious reverence, by the whole nation, has been transmitted from

the ancestry of this band, and its origin is unknown. A skin lodge

or temple is appropriated for its preservation, in which a person

constantly resides, charged with the care of it, and appointed its

guard. It is placed upon a stand, and is never suffered to touch the

earth. It is concealed from the sight by several envelops, which are

composed of strands of the proper skins, plaited and joined together in

the form of a mat. The whole constitutes a parcel of considerable size,

from which various articles are suspended, such as tobacco and roots of

certain plants.

No person dares to open all the coverings of this sacred deposit, in

order to expose the shell to view. {48} Tradition informs them, that

curiosity induced three different persons to examine the mysterious

shell, who were immediately punished for their profanation, by instant

and total loss of sight. The last of these offenders, whose name is

Ish-ka-tappe, is still living. It was ten years since that he attempted

to unveil the sacred shell, but, like his predecessors, he was visited

by blindness, which still continues, and is attributed by the Indians,

as well as by himself, to his committing of the forbidden act.

This shell is taken with the band to all the national hunts, and is

transported by means of a hoppas on the back of a man.

Previously to undertaking a national expedition against an enemy, the

sacred shell is consulted as an oracle. For this purpose, the magi of

the band seat themselves around the great medicine lodge, the lower

part of which is then thrown up like curtains, and the exterior envelop

is carefully removed from the mysterious parcel, that the shell may

receive air. A portion of the tobacco, consecrated by being long

suspended to the skin mats, or coverings of the shell, is now taken

and distributed to the magi, who fill their pipes with it, to smoke to

the great medicine. During this ceremony, an individual occasionally

inclines his head forward, and listens attentively to catch some sound

which he expects to issue from the shell. At length some one imagines

that he hears a sound like that of a forced expiration of air from

the lungs, or like the noise made by the report of a gun at a great

distance. This is considered as a favourable omen, and the nation

prepare for the projected expedition with a confidence of success.

But, on the contrary, should no sound be perceived, the issue of the

expedition would be considered doubtful.

2. _Enk-ka-sa-ba._—This band will not eat red maize. They ascribe to

their family the greatest antiquity, and declare that their first man

emerged {49} from the water, with an ear of red maize in his hand. The

principal chief is Ishkatappe.

3. _Wa-sa-ba-eta-je_; or, those who do not touch bears.—This band

refrains from eating the flesh of bears.

4. _Ka-e-ta-je_, or those who do not touch turtles or tortoises.

5. _Wa-jinga-e-ta-je_, or those who do not touch any kind of bird,

excepting the war-eagle.

6. _Hun-guh._—This band does not eat white cranes, as the down of that

bird is their medicine.

7. _Kon-za._—This band must not touch the green clay, or even

verdigrise, both of which are used as pigments by the other bands, for

ornamenting their persons.

8. _Ta-pa-taj-je._—This band must not touch deers' heads, neither must

they wear deer-skin mockasins. Many of the individuals of this band are

partially gray haired. This change of the hair, which they consider as

a deformity, is attributed to a violation of the abovementioned laws

prescribed by their medicine.

The second division, or tribe _Ishtasunda_, is subdivided into five

bands.

1. _Ta-pa-eta-je._—This band does not touch bison heads.

2. _Mon-eka-goh-ha_, or the earth-makers.—Of this band was the

celebrated Black Bird. They are not forbidden the use of any aliment;

and are said to have originated the present mode of mourning, by

rubbing the body with whitish clay.

3. _Ta-sin-da_, or the bison tail.—This band does not eat bison calves,

in the first year of the age of that animal.

4. _Ing-gera-je-da_, or the red dung.—This name is said to have

originated from the circumstance of this band having formerly

quarrelled, and separated themselves from the nation, until, being

nearly {50} starved, they were compelled to eat the fruit of the wild

cherry-tree, until their excrement became red.

5. _Wash-a-tung._—This band must not touch any of the reptilia class of

animals.

Each of these animals, or parts of animals, which the bands

respectively are forbidden to touch or eat, is regarded as the

particular mysterious medicine of the band collectively, to which it

relates.

This singular, and, to us, absurd law, of interdiction, is generally

rigidly observed; and a violation of it, they firmly believe, will

be followed by some signal judgment, such as blindness, gray hairs,

or general misfortune. Even should the forbidden food be eaten

inadvertently, or but tasted through ignorance, sickness they believe

would be the inevitable consequence, not only to the unfortunate

individual himself, but involving his wife and children also.

The name of one of the bands of the Puncaw nation is _Wa-jaja_,

corresponding to the name which the Osages acknowledge, which is

_Waw-sash-e_.

We have before observed, that they take great pleasure in relating and

hearing the narration of fabulous legends. The following specimen will

serve to exemplify their taste in this way.

A bison bull, an ant, and a tortoise, agreed to undertake a joint war

excursion, against the village of a neighbouring nation. As the latter

associate was a slow walker, it was mutually decided in council, that

he should set out on the journey immediately, to be followed in a

short time by his more active companions. The tortoise accordingly

departed alone, making his way through the grass, with as much rapidity

as possible. After a proper interval had elapsed, the bull also set

out; and lest he should lose his fellow traveller, he consented to

take him on his back. On their way the two champions were obliged to

cross a miry place, in the midst of which they overtook the tortoise,

struggling onward with {51} the utmost labour, and apparently almost

exhausted. They did not fail, as they passed gaily by the sluggish

reptile, to express their surprise at his unusually tardy movements,

and at the circumstance of his being apparently almost subdued by the

first obstacle that presented itself. The tortoise, however, not at all

discouraged, requested them to continue their journey, and expressed

his confident expectation of being able to extricate himself from the

mire, without the aid which they did not seem forward in offering to

him. The two companions arrived at the village of the enemy, and were

so incautious in their approaches to it, as to be discovered by the

inhabitants, who sallied out upon them, and succeeded in wounding

them both. The tortoise at length reached the village, and was also

discovered, but had the additional misfortune of being taken prisoner.

To punish him for his presumption, the enemy resolved to put him

to death in such a manner as would be most painful to him. They

accordingly threatened him successively with a number of different

forms of torture, such as baking in hot embers, boiling, &c., with each

of which the captive artfully expressed his entire satisfaction. They

finally proposed to drown him; and this mode of punishment being so

earnestly protested against by the tortoise, they determined to carry

it into immediate execution.

With this view, several of the enemy carried him out into a deep part

of the river, and threw him in.

The tortoise, thus released, and, through the ignorance of the captors

in the art of torturing, abandoned to an element in which he could act

freely and with much power, dived down from their view, and rising

again, dragged two or three of them under water successively, and

scalped them. Then rising above the surface of the water, he exhibited

the scalps triumphantly to the enemy, who stood in {52} crowds upon the

bank of the river, unable to injure him. Content with his fortunate

achievement, the tortoise now journeyed homeward; and on arriving at

his lodge, he found there the bull and ant, both in bed, groaning

piteously with their wounds.

Upon the reality of such stories, many of the auditors seem to rely

with implicit faith, particularly as their occurrence is referred to

the chronology of former times, by such a prefatory notice as "once

upon a time." The narrator proceeds with a degree of gravity of feature

suitable to the nature of the events of his story; and notes a variety

of little circumstances in detail, which contribute much to give the

whole an air of truth to his auditors, who listen with an undivided

attention, uttering occasionally an interjection, as their feelings are

excited.

That the inferior animals did, in ancient times, march to battle

with simultaneous regularity, that they conversed intelligibly, and

performed all the different actions of men, many of them appear to

admit, with as much faith as many equally absurd doctrines are believed

in Christendom. But these qualities are supposed to be no longer

inherent; and if an animal should now speak with the voice of man, it

is either the effect of the immediate inspiration of the Wahconda, or

the apparent animal is no other than the Wahconda himself incarnate.

The Indians sometimes indulge in pleasantry in their conversation; and

Shaumonekusse seemed to be eminently witty—a quality strongly indicated

by his well-marked features of countenance. Their wit, however, is

generally obscene, particularly when in conversation with the squaws.

Washingguhsahba, conversing familiarly with a Frenchman, who had

long resided in the Omawhaw village, observed that the white people,

being in the habit of reading books with the desire of acquiring

knowledge, probably knew the cause of the difference of colour which

exists between themselves and {53} the Indian; he therefore requested

information from the Frenchman on this subject. The latter, assuming an

air of great gravity, assured him that the cause was very well known,

and was no other than that the Indian was formed of red horse-dung.

The chief, with every appearance of candour, which, however, he did

not feel, instantly placed his hand on the arm of his companion, and

replied that this observation was a convincing proof of the great

knowledge of the white people, and that they were perfectly familiar

with the early operations of the Master of Life. He had no doubt, he

said, that they were equally well informed as to the matter out of

which they were themselves formed; but if he, a poor ignorant Indian,

with no knowledge but his own, might venture to give his opinion, he

would say, that they were formed of the excrement of the dog, baked

white in the prairie.

They sometimes employ an indirect method of communicating information,

and of explaining some particular acts of their own, which may have

been erroneously construed by others.

Several Omawhaws, accompanied by a Frenchman, one day passed our

cantonment, on their way to the trading house, with a considerable

quantity of jerked meat. On their return they visited us; when one of

them, who amused himself by turning over the leaves of a book in search

of pictures, being asked by a squaw, in a jocular manner, what the book

said, replied, "It tells me, that when we were taking our meat to the

trading house, we wished to present some of it to white people on the

way, but that the Frenchman would not permit us to do so." This remark

explained the reason of their having offered us no meat.

An Indian, observing that one of our men, when cutting wood, uttered

the interjection _hah!_ at each blow with the axe, smiled; and asked if

it assisted him, or added force to the blow.

{54} The Kinnecanick, or, as the Omawhaws call it, _Ninnegahe_, mixed

or made tobacco, which they use for smoking in their pipes, is composed

partly of tobacco, and partly of the leaves of the sumack (rhus

glabrum); but many prefer to the latter ingredient, the inner bark of

the red willow (cornus sericea); and when neither of the two latter can

be obtained, the inner bark of the arrow wood (viburnum) is substituted

for them. These two ingredients are well dried over the fire, and

comminuted together by friction between the hands.

Their pipes are neatly made of the red indurated clay, which they

procure from the red pipestone branch of the Sioux river.[26] The mass

is readily cut with a common knife.

[26] The pipestone quarry is in Pipestone County, Minnesota, on

Pipestone Creek, a branch of the Big Sioux. See J. Long's _Voyages_, in

our volume ii, note 43.—ED.

They frequently eject the smoke through the nostrils, and often inhale

it into the lungs, from which it is gradually ejected again as they

converse, or in expiration.

An Omawhaw, after an eructation of wind from the stomach, is often

heard to say, "_How-wa-ne-ta_," thank you, animal; which they explain

by saying, that some animal has presented itself to the hunter. The

exclamation, however, has but an obscure meaning, and may be compared

as somewhat similar to the "God bless you" of the French, after the

convulsion of sneezing.

They indulge much in the pleasures of dancing, and their dances are of

various denominations; of which the following may be particularized.

The calumet dance, _nin-ne-ba-wa-wong_, is a very favourite dance.

It is usually performed by two individuals, in honour, and in the

presence, of some one of their own or of a neighbouring nation,

with the expectation of receiving presents in return. A person who

intends to perform this dance sends a messenger, bearing a small skin

containing tobacco to fill a pipe, to the individual whom he intends to

honour. If the proposed compliment should not be {55} acceptable, it is

refused in the most courteous manner, with excuses based upon poverty,

and with many thanks for the honour intended. If, on the contrary, the

tobacco should be accepted and smoked, the act shows that the visit

also will be acceptable; and a time is fixed for the performance of

the ceremony. At the appointed time, the dancers, with two selected

companions, repair to the place of their destination, and are invited

into the lodge of the person whom they addressed. After a short time,

the calumet is placed upon a forked support, which is driven into the

soil in the back part of the lodge. Notice is then given to the bearer

of the calumet respecting the time when it will be convenient for the

dance to take place. The bearer of the calumet is now considered as the

_father_, and addresses the individual whom he is about to honour by

the title of _son_, presenting him with some valuable articles; such as

a gun, kettle, blankets, and clothing and ornaments for his youngest

child, who is destined to represent the father, or the adopted son, at

the ensuing ceremony.

At sunset the calumet is taken from the forked stick, or support,

enveloped like an infant in swaddling clothes, and placed carefully in

a bed, prepared for its reception; a lullaby is then sung, accompanied

by the music of the rattle, for its quiet repose. On the following

morning it is _awakened_ by a song, with the same music, and again

consigned to its forked support. The appointed day having arrived, a

space of sufficient diameter, is enclosed by a skreen of skins for

the dance, and a post is fixed in the earth, near the entrance to the

area. Around this area the principal men of the nation seat themselves;

the adopted son leads in his youthful representative; and the two

dancers, decorated with paint, and entirely destitute of clothing, with

the exception of the breech-cloth, commence the dance. They are each

provided with a decorated calumet stem, and a rattle {56} of dried

skin, or a gourd, containing pebbles, with which to keep time to the

music of the gong, and to the vocal chanting of the musicians of the

village. They dance in the ordinary manner of the Indians, and pass

backwards and forwards between the entrance and back part of the area,

endeavouring to exhibit as much agility as possible in their movements,

throwing themselves into a great variety of attitudes imitative of the

actions of the war eagle, preserving at the same time a constant waving

motion with the calumet in the left hand, and agitating the gourd in

the right, more or less vehemently, agreeably to the music.

Warriors and braves will now bring forward presents of horses, guns,

&c. The bridle of the horse is attached to the post, by the donor, who

receives the thanks of an old crier, stationed there to perform that

duty. The music now ceases, whilst the donor _strikes the post_, and

recounts his martial deeds, and boasts of the presents which he has

made at different times on similar occasions. Sometimes during the

ceremony, a warrior will take the gong from the performer, and strike

upon it as many times as he has achieved brave and generous actions; he

then sets it down, and no one must dare to touch it, but such as can

strike upon it more frequently than the first; if this is done, the

gong is returned to the performer.

The calumet dance sometimes continues two or three days; but each

night the calumet is consigned to its repose in the bed, with the same

ceremonies as those of the first night.

When all the presents have been made which the dancers have reason to

expect, they depart immediately with them to their own nation or lodge.

Instead of striking the post, the donors sometimes strike lightly upon

the persons of the dancers themselves.

The presents sometimes made at these dances are very considerable.

Ongpatunga once danced the {57} calumet to Tarrarecawaho, the grand

Pawnee chief, and received from him between eighty and ninety horses.

The Pawnees are indeed distinguished both for their liberality and

dexterity at this ceremony. They gave one hundred and forty horses

last autumn to the Otoes, who performed this dance at their village.

A party of Pawnees once danced at the Omawhaw village, and gave so

much satisfaction to many individuals of this nation, as to receive

extraordinary presents from them. On this occasion, one person, in the

warmth of his feelings, brought forth his child, and presented it to

them, as the most precious gift in his power to bestow. The Pawnees

accepted this gift; but on their departure, they returned the child to

its parent, accompanied by the present of a fine horse, upon which it

was mounted.

The dance of discovering the enemy.—This dance is sometimes performed

in honour of strangers; at other times, chiefs are invited by the

warriors, who wish to exhibit their generosity in presenting them

with horses, and to detail their own warlike feats in the ceremony of

striking the post. The chiefs, on this occasion, seat themselves in a

circle, on the outside of which the warriors are also seated in a ring

or circle, concentric with that of the chiefs.

These arrangements being completed, the music strikes up, and a warrior

advances, who takes a war-club and _crow_, provided for the purpose;

the latter of which he belts around his waist. He then dances with a

slow, shuffling motion, around the exterior circle, exhibiting at the

same time a pantomimic representation of his combats with the enemy.

By and by the music beats a quicker time, and calls for corresponding

movements on the part of the dancer, until at length both cease

simultaneously. The warrior then advances to the post, which he strikes

with his club, and proceeds to detail one of his deeds of war. This

done, the music recalls him {58} to the dance, and after a short time

again ceases, that he may continue his chivalric history.

This alternate dance and recitation continues until the tale of the

warrior is told; when he resigns his crow and war-club to another, who

continues the amusement in like manner. Most of the dancers present

horses to the chiefs, after the performing of their respective parts;

and it is generally the case, that each chief invited is rewarded with

one of those animals in return for the honour of his attendance.

The bear dance, _Mot-chu-wat-che_.—This is a _medicine_ dance, not

distinguished by any very remarkable traits. The dancers, however,

imitate the motions of the bear; and songs, in which there are many

words, are sung.

The beggar dance.—This has been already described in our account of the

visit of the Otoes, at our cantonment last autumn. This is probably the

dance mentioned by Carver, in page 158. of his work; the performance of

which, on his landing near Lake Pepin, by a party of Chippeways, was

the cause of much alarm to his party.[27]

[27] For sketch of Jonathan Carver, see J. Long's _Voyages_, in our

volume ii, note 5.—ED.

The bison dance, _Ta-nuguh-wat-che_.—The performers in this dance are

painted black, and are naked from the waist upward, with the exception

of the head dress, which is composed of the skin of the head of a

bison, the face of which is cut off and rejected; so adapted to the top

of their head as to resemble a cap, the horns projecting forward in

such a manner as to correspond with their appearance when on the head

of the bison. Attached to this head dress, is a strip of the skin from

the back of the bison, which hangs down behind to the buttocks, like a

tail. In the evolutions of the dance, they imitate the actions of the

bison.

Amongst the Minnetarees, is a ceremony called the corn dance; which,

however, has but little claim to the title of a dance. Notice being

given of this ceremony, by the village criers, the squaws repair to

{59} the medicine lodge, in which the magi are seated, performing

their incantations, carrying with them a portion of each kind of seed

which they respectively intend to plant the ensuing season; as an

ear of maize, some pumpkin, water-melon, or tobacco-seed. These are

attached to the end of small sticks, which are stuck in the ground, so

as to form a right line in front of the magi. The squaws then strip

themselves entirely of their garments, and take their seats before the

spectators. The magi then throw themselves into a violent agitation,

singing, leaping about, pointing to the sky, the earth, the sun, and

the north star, successively. After these paroxysms have subsided, the

squaws arise; and each one taking her respective sticks, holds them up

with extended arms.

One of the magi being provided with a large bunch of a species of

bitter herb, dips it in a vessel of water, and sprinkles copiously the

seeds and persons of the squaws, with much grotesque gesticulation.

This concludes the ceremony; when the seeds are supposed to be

fertilized, and to be capable of communicating their fertility to any

quantity of their kind.

The women then assume their clothing, and return home, being careful

to deposit the fertilized seed with their stock; after which they may

proceed to planting as soon as they please.

We were informed that on some particular occasion, a large enclosure

was constructed in the village of the Minnetarees, which was covered

with jerked meat, instead of skins. The distinguished warriors who

were concerned in the ceremony about to take place, deputed some

of their party to summon a certain number of the handsomest young

married squaws of the village, who immediately repaired to {60} the

meat-covered lodge, with the consent of their husbands. The squaws were

then disrobed in the midst of a considerable number of the bravest of

the Minnetaree warriors; and after the conclusion of some ceremonies a

_brave_ entered, leading by the halter a very fine horse. He selected

a squaw, whose beauty struck his fancy; and advancing to her, he laid

the cord of the halter in her hand. She accepted the present, and

immediately admitted him to her favour. Other warriors appeared in

succession, leading horses, all of which were very readily disposed of

in the same manner. This ceremony occurred during the day, and in the

presence of the whole assembly.

In the same nation a singular night dance is, it is said, sometimes

held. During this amusement an opportunity is given to the squaws

to select their favourites. A squaw, as she dances, will advance

to a person with whom she is captivated, either for his personal

attractions, or for his renown in arms, she taps him on the shoulder,

and immediately runs out of the lodge, and betakes herself to the

bushes, followed by the favourite. But if it should happen, that he

has a particular preference for another, from whom he expects the same

favour, or if he is restrained by a vow, or is already satiated with

indulgence, he politely declines her offer, by placing his hand in her

bosom. On which they return to the assembly and rejoin the dance. It is

worthy of remark that in the language of the Omawhaws the word _watche_

applies equally to the amusement of dancing, and to sexual intercourse;

but to avoid being misunderstood in speaking of the former they

sometimes add the word gaha, _to make_.[28]

[28] This paragraph, found in the Philadelphia edition, is replaced by

asterisks in the London issue.—ED.

What length of time the Omawhaws have resided on the Missouri is

unknown; but it seems highly probable that they were not there when

Mr. Bourgmont[29] performed his journey to the Padoucas, in the

year 1724, as he makes no mention whatever of them. It would seem,

indeed, that they had separated from the great migrating nation, that

we shall further notice below, on or near the Mississippi, and that

they had since passed slowly across the country, or perhaps up the

St. Peter's,[30] until they finally struck {61} the Missouri at the

mouth of the Sioux river. This is rendered highly probable by the

circumstance of Carver having met with them on the St. Peter's in the

year 1766, associated with the Shienne and others, all of whom he

represents as bands of the Naudowessie nation.[31]

[29] Etienne Vényard, Sieur de Bourgmont (Bourmont, Boismont,

Bournion), the builder of Fort Orleans, just below the mouth of Grand

River, the first post established on the Missouri (1722 or 1723),

undertook an expedition therefrom during the summer of 1724, under

instructions from the government of Louisiana, for the purpose of

making treaties of friendship with the tribes of the plains. For his

journal, see Margry, _Découvertes et Etablissements des Français_, vi,

pp. 398-448.—ED.

[30] St. Peter's was the former name of the Minnesota River.—ED.

[31] See Dorsey, "Migrations of Siouan Tribes," in _American

Naturalist_, xv, p. 211; also Nuttall's _Journal_, in our volume xiii,

note 84.—ED.

The Oto nation of Indians is distinguished by the name of

_Wah-toh-ta-na_. The permanent village of this nation is composed of

large dirt lodges, similar to those of the Konzas and Omawhaws, and

is situate on the left bank of the river Platte, or Nebraska, about

forty miles above its confluence with the Missouri. Although this

nation distinguish themselves by the name of Wahtohtata, yet when

questioned respecting the signification of the word, they say it ought

to be pronounced Wah-toh-ta-na, or Wa-do-tan, which means those who

will copulate. This singular designation which they have adopted, was

applied to the nation in consequence of their chief, at the period of

their separation from the Missouries on the Mississippi, having carried

off a squaw from that nation. The nation is, however, only known to the

white people by the name of Oto, Otto, or Othouez.

It thus appears, that their name has been adopted subsequently to

the migration and partition of the great nation of which they were

formerly but a band. This great nation, they say, originally resided

somewhere to the northward of the great lakes; and on their emigration

southwardly, after performing a considerable journey, a large band of

them, called Ho-ro-ge, or Fish Eaters, from their fondness of fish,

separated from the main body, and established their residence on the

margin of a lake. This band is now known by the name of Winnebagoe.[32]

[32] On the Winnebago, see J. Long's _Voyages_, in our volume ii, note

86.—ED.