young men shot an arrow at the bottom of the bear’s foot as it was
clambering up the stone. When it went up again he shot another arrow.
On another effort of the bear a third arrow was sent after it. The
three arrows whizzed past the bear and went on high into the air.
They came down without doing any damage. The fourth arrow flashed
past very close to the bear’s left hind foot. The animal slid down
and ran away. The arrow kept on going up, up, and it never came down.
I have seen many times the long upright marks of the bear’s claws on
this great column of stone. They are deep seams or furrows. It must
have been a monster of a bear. As far back as I can remember, all of
the Indians called this stone Bear Tepee or Bear Lodge.[9]
An old Cheyenne man and I were traveling together one time past the
Bear Tepee. He told me a story about it. He said that a long time
ago--nobody knew how long--an Indian man journeying alone chose to
sleep at the base of this tall stone. A buffalo head was lying near
him. He slept four nights. During that time the Great Medicine took
both him and the buffalo head to the top of the high rock. When the
man awakened he could find no way to get down. He was hungry and
thirsty, but he had neither food nor water. He was greatly distressed
in mind. He thought of his wife and his children. He wept and prayed
all day. At night, exhausted, he slept again. During that night the
Great Medicine gently took him down again to his leaf bed on the
ground. The buffalo head was left at the top, near the edge. That
Indian man was said by some people to have been an Apache, others
said he was a Shoshone, yet others declared he was a Cheyenne.
I saw that buffalo head many times. The first time was when I was
with the old man and he told me the story of it. He had a spyglass
and we looked through it. We could see plainly that it was the head
of a buffalo. I was a small boy at that time, eight or ten years old.
The Bear Tepee is four or five hundred feet high, maybe higher, and
its sides are straight up and down. How else could a buffalo head get
up there except it be placed there by the Great Medicine?
I have heard many old Cheyennes say that a long time ago the Great
Medicine used to come down to the earth and talk with people.
They said He had camped and visited and smoked with the old-time
Cheyennes. Lots of times I have heard them talk about Him having
given to our people the Black Hills and all of the gold there.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] Pryor creek.
[8] In telling all of these fanciful stories. Wooden Leg exhibited a
queer mingling of belief and doubt. They show an odd mental streak in
a man having a large stock of level-headed common sense, and whose
statements of fact as to genuine occurrences are worthy of full
credit. He is the kind of man who could not tell a lie without at
once retracting and correcting his misstatement, if he knew it to be
such.--T. B. M.
[9] Modern whites know this as “Devil’s Tower.”
III
_Cheyenne Ways of Life._
The warrior societies were the foundation of tribal government among
the Cheyennes. That is, the members of the warrior societies elected
the chiefs who governed the people. Every ten years the whole tribe
would get together for the special purpose of choosing forty big
chiefs. These forty then would select four past chiefs, or “old men”
chiefs, to serve as supreme advisers to them and to the tribe. There
were not any hereditary chiefs among the Cheyennes.
The Elk warriors, the Crazy Dog warriors and the Fox warriors
were the ruling societies of the Northern Cheyennes. Other like
organizations had been in existence before my time, but during all
of the period of my boyhood and manhood those three were the only
active ones in our northern branch of the double tribe. Each warrior
society had a leading war chief and nine little war chiefs. So, there
were many men who might claim the title of chief. All together there
were seventy-four such officials, counting both the tribal rulers
and the warrior society rulers. There were four “old men” tribal
chiefs, forty tribal big chiefs, three leading warrior chiefs and
twenty-seven little warrior chiefs. Ordinarily they were ranked or
held in respect in this order, the old men chiefs first, the little
warrior chiefs last.
The warrior chiefs had original authority only in their societies,
each in his own special organization. By alternation, though, the
tribal chiefs delegated governmental power to the warrior chiefs.
That is, one group or another of the warrior chiefs and their
followers were called upon to serve as active subordinate officials
to carry out the orders promulgated by the big chiefs. Such warrior
society group, when on this duty, were like the white man’s sheriffs,
policemen, soldiers.
Promotion in public life followed the line from private member of a
warrior society to little chief of the same, then to leading chief,
then to big chief of the tribe, finally to old man chief. Of course,
all of the tribal and old men chiefs were members of one or another
of the warrior societies. It often occurred that in time of battle or
in organized great hunting expeditions a tribal big chief or an old
man chief had, during such time, the low standing of a mere private
person subordinate to the rule of the warrior chiefs. And, in many
instances some man might be at the same time both a warrior chief and
a tribal big chief or even an old man chief. Little Wolf had this
honor put upon him. Even after he had become one of the four old men
chiefs he was kept in office as leading chief of the Elk warriors.
Four unmarried and virtuous young women were chosen as honorary
members of each warrior society. If one of these entered into
marriage or became unchaste she lost her membership and some other
young woman was chosen in her place. The young women took no active
part in the proceedings. They were allowed merely to sit inside the
lodge of assemblage, there quietly looking on. At the society dances
no women were permitted to do any of the work. Two little chiefs were
appointed on each occasion to do the cooking, to serve the feast or
to perform any other menial service necessary. The meetings or dances
were held in privately owned lodges of members. The coverings were
lifted or were removed so that spectators might view the affair from
the outside. The three different societies had the same character of
organization, and their social and military operations were carried
out on the same general lines. A man could join only one of them.
I joined the Elk warriors when I was fourteen years old. We were
camped then at Antelope creek, near the Black Hills. Their herald
chiefs were going about the camp circle calling, “All Elk warriors
come for a dance and a feast.” They were gathering at a large tepee
made of two family lodges combined into one. Left Handed Shooter, at
that time leading chief of the Elks, came to my father’s lodge and
said to me:
“We want you to join the Elk warriors.”
Oh, how important I felt at receiving this invitation! I had been
longing for it, waiting to be asked, wishing I might grow older more
rapidly in order to get this honorable standing already held by my
father and my two older brothers. Seventy or more Elks were dancing.
Occasionally one fired a gunshot into the air. As they danced they
were scraping their “rattlesnake sticks,” the special emblem of Elk
membership. Each of these sticks was made of hard wood, in the form
of a stubby rattlesnake seven or eight inches long. On each stick was
cut forty notches. Another stick was used for scraping back and forth
along the notches. The combined operation of many instruments made a
noise resembling the rattlesnake’s warning hum. Each member owned his
personal wooden stick, but there was one made from an elkhorn that
was kept always by someone as a trustee for the society. No payment
nor gift was necessary for admission into a warrior organization.
In the camp circles, in the tribal movings from place to place, in
the great tribal hunts, in the times of Great Medicine or other
general ceremonial dances--in fact, at all times of our lives some
one or other warrior society was authorized or commanded by the
tribal chiefs to take charge of the government. Ordinarily there was
shift of the delegated authority by regular rotation, but such change
in regular order was not always the case. The conclave of big chiefs
decided which society should have it. A society might be appointed
to act for one day, two days, three days, any stated length of time,
or they might be appointed to serve during the continuation of some
certain event. At any time their appointment might be revoked by the
big chiefs and another society named in their stead. Anyhow, some one
or other warrior band was on duty at all times to put into execution
the will of the big chiefs.
Perhaps at some time the Crazy Dog warriors might be acting as the
policemen at this particular place of camping. Perhaps the four old
men chiefs might determine that a general buffalo hunt ought to
be entered upon. A herald on horseback was sent about the camp to
proclaim:
“All chiefs, open your ears and listen. Come to the council lodge.”
There the matter was discussed. Perhaps it was decided first to move
camp farther down the river, or up the river, or over to the next
valley, or yet farther away. The big chiefs then considered which
warrior society should conduct the camp movement. Perhaps they agreed
upon the Fox warriors. The leading chief and the little chiefs of
this society were notified there at the council. The old man herald
went out to ride again about the camps and call out:
“All Cheyennes, open your ears and listen. Tomorrow morning we move
to Tongue river. Have your lodges down and yourselves and your horses
ready. The Fox warriors will lead us.”
The next morning, as all were preparing for the move, the Fox
warriors assembled out forward in the direction of the intended
movement. The old man herald instructed them: “You are the leaders
today. Make all of the people obey you. Make them stay in their
proper places. If any of them disobey our ordinary rules of travel
you may pony-whip them, you may shoot their horses, you may kill
their dogs, you may break their guns or their bows, you may punish
them in any way that seems to you best, except you are not allowed to
kill any Cheyenne.” The Crazy Dog warriors, who had been policemen in
the camp, now went off duty and became merely Cheyenne individuals.
The leading chief of the Fox warriors was the most important man
of that day, his little chiefs and their subordinate warriors were
his helpers. The tribal old men chiefs and big chiefs led the camp
movement, the Fox warrior band immediately following them or sending
their members from time to time back along the caravan to keep
order. The big chiefs in front decided when it was time to stop
for a rest, when to move on again, when and where to camp. The Fox
soldiers transmitted and enforced their orders. When the big chiefs
chose a spot for the camp their herald stationed himself where he
could tell all of the oncoming people, “Camp here.” If there were any
disputes about special location of lodges the Fox warriors settled
the disputes. In fact, though, there rarely were any such disputes.
Every camp circle of the Cheyennes was arranged very much like their
preceding circles. Families or related families or clans set up their
lodges at all times in about the same location with regard to each
other. Always the horseshoe incomplete circle opened to the east.
Always every individual lodge in the camp likewise had its entrance
opening toward the east--toward the rising sun.
To organize for the tribal buffalo hunt another council was called.
This or any other council usually was held at and after darkness, by
the light of a great bonfire. The big chiefs regularly would tell
the leading warrior chiefs, “We want four good and reliable warriors
to scout and discover the location of a buffalo herd.” When the
warrior leaders had nominated these four the old man herald moved
on horseback through the camp calling out their names and the duty
put upon them. They went to the council and there received their
instructions through their warrior chiefs. They performed the scout
duty according to their orders--nobody ever dared refuse to go--and
upon their return a report was made to the old man herald. Meantime,
perhaps the big chiefs decided that the Elk warriors should conduct
the buffalo hunting party. The herald went out and proclaimed:
“All Cheyennes, open your ears and listen. Many buffalo have been
discovered by our scouts. Sharpen your knives and your arrow points.
See that your guns are in good order. Have your riding horses and
your pack horses ready. Tomorrow morning we go. The Elk warriors will
lead and conduct the hunt.”
The Elks then actually led the party. Nobody but big chiefs were
allowed to go in front of them. The Elk warriors did all of the
scouting for game and watching for enemies while the party was on
the move. Any non-Elk intruder would be pony-whipped, or worse. If
any Elk himself disobeyed the orders of his warrior chiefs this
disobedient one was punished, either by his fellow Elks upon their
own initiative or by command of the warrior chiefs. The effort at all
times was to carry out well whatever governmental task was placed
upon the warriors, either on the hunts, at the camps, during a
journey, in time of battle or under any conditions where they were
vested with authority. The three societies competed against each
other for efficiency in governmental action as well as in all other
affairs appertaining to respectable manhood. There was competition
also within each society, every ambitious member trying to outdo his
fellows in all worthy activities.
The Fox warriors were leading a buffalo hunt one time when I was
about sixteen years old. We then were on Crow creek, northeast of
where Sheridan, Wyoming, now stands. Last Bull was the leading chief
of the Fox soldiers. I was riding with three other youths about my
age.
“Oh, lots of buffalo!” one boy suddenly exclaimed.
We skirted around the band of hunters and got forward. A Fox warrior
saw us crowding ahead. We also saw him, and we whirled our horses
to go back. Two or three of the Foxes followed us. We scattered. I
made a dash for Tongue river. It was frozen solid. My horse slipped
and slid, but I got across. My pursuers stopped at the stream, but I
kept on going away from them. I did not know what became of the other
three boys. I was scared. My heart was thumping, thumping, pounding
my breast. I expected to be pony-whipped, to have my horse killed
and my clothing torn to pieces. But it appeared they never found out
our identity.
Another time, about a year later, I got into the same kind of
trouble. This time we were moving camp. The Crazy Dog warriors were
in the lead and conducting the movement. We were traveling up the
Tongue river, far up, above the present Sheridan, and were about to
go over the divide to the upper Powder river. Two other youths and
myself forgot the rules. We rode forward from our proper place in the
procession and went on out to a hilltop, there to have a look over
the country, as every Indian naturally likes to do.
Four Crazy Dog warriors were right after us. They were riding fast.
The other two boys got away, but my pony played out on me. I had
to stop and dismount. I was frightened to distraction, but my mind
was made up to take bravely whatever punishment they might inflict.
Nevertheless, I became mentally upset when four determined-looking
Fox warrior policemen dashed up to me.
“Do not whip me,” I begged. “Kill my horse. You may have all of my
clothing. Here--take my gun and break it into pieces.”
But after a talk among themselves they decided not to do any of these
penal acts. They scolded me and said I was a foolish little boy.
They asked my name, and I told them. That was the last time I ever
flagrantly violated any of the laws of travel or the hunt.
A guard line usually was thrown out by the warrior policemen when any
buffalo herd was about to be attacked. It was required that all of
the hunters remain behind this line until every preparation was made
and until the appointed managers gave the word for a general advance.
Of course, all were excited, anxious to get at the game. Or, somebody
might think the policemen were too slow in completing the preparatory
steps. So, occasionally an impatient hunter became obtrusive. This
one was pretty sure to bring upon himself a lashing with pony whip
thongs or a clubbing with the reversed heavy handle. Finally would
come the signal:
“Go!” Then the wild Indian chase was on.
Special warrior society hunts often were engaged upon. For these only
the members of the one particular organization were eligible. The
societies contested against each other in this regard, each trying
to beat the others in quantity of meat and skins brought back to
camp. Left Handed Shooter, leading chief of the Elk warriors, one
time appointed me as one of the four preliminary scouts to locate
buffalo for an exclusively Elk warrior hunt. We went out at night.
Winter weather, snow on the ground. Early in the morning we found a
big herd. We returned to camp and reported the discovery. An old man
herald called the Elk warriors and shouted out information of our
report and of the proposed hunting party.
Old Bear, a big chief, got four or five other Cheyennes to slip out
with him for a premature raid upon the herd we had located for our
Elk warrior adventure. Little Wolf, at that time a little warrior
chief, took with him a band of Elks and followed the lawbreakers.
Little Wolf opened the attack upon them by sending an arrow that
killed Old Bear’s horse. The Elk band pony-whipped all of the Old
Bear group, including the big chief himself, and made them go back
and stay in camp.
Feathered Wolf, an Elk warrior, one time attached himself uninvited
to a hunting party of Crazy Dog warriors. He was leading two pack
horses for carrying the meat he expected to get. Some Crazy Dogs
warned him:
“You do not belong with us. You ought to go back.”
“But I am badly in need of meat,” he pleaded.
Others came and urged him to return. They talked of punishing him by
whipping, but they did nothing. They ended merely by telling him:
“You are crazy.”
He mingled with the hunters and shot away all of his arrows as they
chased the herd. When the killing was done he said:
“I killed one buffalo and helped in the killing of another. You
should give me plenty of meat.”
“Yes, we’ll give you some of it,” different ones promised him.
But nobody gave him any. He had to go back to his home lodge with his
two pack horses empty and himself hungry.
At his lodge that evening he announced a smoking circle. He stood out
in front of his tepee and called invitations to many members of the
Crazy Dog society. It was supposed he hoped thus to lead them into
making gifts of the appetizing food. But all of the invited ones were
busy at something else, so he had to smoke alone and the drying poles
beside his tepee remained bare. His wife brought him the smoking
outfit. “Ah, kinnikinick,” he chuckled contentedly. He filled his
pipe and smoked it to the last ashes. Pretty soon he became pale,
weak, sick, then he vomited. His wife too had punished him. She had
given him the strongest tobacco she could find in the camp.
Two certain men were observed one time to have a big supply of
buffalo meat hanging on the drying poles by their tepees. There had
been a special warrior society hunt that day, but these men did not
belong to that society. Investigation showed they had obtained their
store from one of the animals killed in a side coulee and overlooked
by the lawful hunters. The meat was taken from the two men, their
guns were broken, their pack saddles were cut up, their lodges were
torn down and burned.
Half a dozen Sioux pushed themselves one time into an Elk warrior
hunt. We always were friendly with the Sioux, about the same as if
they were Cheyennes, but these were out of place at this particular
time, and they knew it. Little Wolf led a party of his Elks in
whipping them away. Two or three of the uninvited guests had blood
running from head cuts made by the heavy handles of the pony whips.
The Sioux--the plains Indians generally--had laws and customs similar
to ours, so it was considered they had incurred our penalty. Often a
disobedient Cheyenne or an intruding hunter might gain immunity from
a whipping by prompt confession of guilt and by voluntary yielding of
horses to be killed or of other property to be destroyed.
The arrow was the preferred weapon when on a tribal hunt in a
buffalo herd or when a large party were joined in the pursuit. Each
rider shot arrow after arrow into whatever animal was convenient
to him during the tumult of the running chase. When it was ended
he had one or more arrows in various dead buffalo scattered over
the area covered by the flight of the herd. Every man kept his own
arrows always marked in some peculiar manner whereby they could be
identified, so when the field was reviewed after the termination of
the killing he could find out which buffalo he had killed or had
helped to kill. It could be learned in each instance which arrow was
the fatal one and which were of little or no importance. Thus the
claims to skin and meat could be settled. In case of disagreement,
the chiefs decided the question. Gun bullets could not be
distinguished the one from the other, so the guns were used only when
one man was hunting alone or when a small party of special friends
hunted together. The guns also had to have powder and lead and caps,
which we did not always have on hand. We could make the arrows, or we
often recovered them from the dead animal.
Different tribes had different ways of making their arrows. All
arrows belonging to members of any certain tribe were made according
to a certain general plan, so that by examination of any arrow it
could be learned to what tribe the owner belonged. I used to be able
to distinguish several different tribal forms from one another. I can
recollect now the distinguishing features of four of them: The Crow,
Sioux, Pawnee and Cheyenne.
The Crow butt end was whittled to a sharp ridge and the notch was
cut across this ridge, the same as was done by the Cheyennes. Their
metal or stone point was a long triangle with its shortest side at
the arrow’s shaft and with all three sides formed in exactly straight
lines, these features likewise the same as in the Cheyenne arrows.
Both of these had the slender neck whittled from the notch end in a
long taper to the main shaft. But the distinction was in the size
of the shaft. The Crow shaft always was fat and heavy. The Cheyenne
shaft was slender.
The Sioux arrow had its notch extremity cut flat across the end, in
this respect differing from all of the others, which were beveled
on two sides to make a sharp ridge for the notch. The neck of the
Sioux arrow was begun just below the notch by a circular cut straight
into the wood. Then, beginning further down, the neck was shaved
and tapered carefully up to this straight cut. The Sioux metal or
stone points differed from all others. The form in general was the
same long triangle, but the short side at the arrow’s shaft had a
deep concave curve. Thus it had two horns or barbs. Here was the
particular brand of the Sioux arrow.
The Pawnees had the flat butt end and its notch the same as the
Sioux. But the neck below the notch was tapered like a Crow or a
Cheyenne arrow. The triangle points were also the same as on the Crow
and Cheyenne arrows, having no horns or barbs.
The Cheyenne arrow was distinguished from the Pawnee by its notch
cut into a sharp ridge instead of into a flat surface butt end. Its
tapering neck, its sharp ridge butt end and its straight line point
separated it from the Sioux. The diameter of the shaft rendered
it readily distinguishable from the Crow. Moreover, the Cheyennes
had one peculiar brand that plainly indicated their arrows. This
characteristic was in the three wavy lines symmetrically spaced
around the shaft and painted all the way along it from the feathers
to the base of the hard point. These special wavy stripes were
designed as having a spirit or medicine influence, to help in killing
the buffalo. Communication with the Great Medicine above us is
supposed to be made in wavy lines, not straight lines.