set symmetrically into slots in the neck and upper shaft for a
distance of five or six inches. Between these feather rows are three
straight lines painted in color, usually red. The shaft may be
painted according to the fancy of the individual, or according to
his personal mode of branding it. Old Cheyennes told me that in past
times all Cheyenne arrows were painted blue. This was done by way
of respectful regard for the blue waters of a certain highly revered
lake in the Black Hills. During my days most arrow points were metal,
although a few men, especially the older men, continued to make them
of stone. All Indian arrows were of the same length--that is, every
man made his own arrows to measure exactly from his armpit to the
tips of his fingers.
Other weapons differed in the different tribes, and sometimes a
certain form of weapon was characteristic of a certain tribe. The
Sioux were the only Indians I knew who made regular use of the stone
war-club made by attaching an oval stone to the end of a stick
wrapped with rawhide. The Cheyennes rarely carried one of these,
while a Sioux appeared not fully equipped unless he had one tucked
into his belt. Instead, the Cheyenne counterpart implement was a
hatchet or small ax. Sometimes the hatchet was transformed into a
fancy pipe for ceremonial smoking. The metal head was drilled for the
bowl and a little round canal was burned through the central length
of the handle to serve as a pipestem.
Spears were used by the Cheyennes. The long and slender points
might be of metal or they might be of stone or of bone, the rib of
a buffalo or a bone from some other animal serving well for such
purpose. The shaft was decorated, of course. Great care often was
taken in its coloring and general design. A regular feature of the
plan was the eagle feather attachments. One eagle feather having a
black tip dangled from the shaft near the hard point’s base. Two
eagle feathers floated from a slender buckskin thong tied to the
upper end of the shaft.
The Sioux had knife sticks for fighting. These had long shafts, the
same as a spear. But instead of the attached point at the end there
were three blades at the shaft’s side and near its end. The blades
were in a row, close together, and were tied there by rawhide after
having been set into a slot. They projected out three or four inches
from the heavy shaft. Sometimes the edges were straight, sometimes
they were pointed so that they resembled a section of sickle bar for
a mowing machine. Always they were kept sharpened to a keen edge.
The earrings of an Indian often indicated his tribal stock. A
Cheyenne ear had but one piercing, only one ring, and this ring was
looped directly through or close up to the ear. The Crow likewise
had but one piercing and only one ring or shell disc, but this was
suspended below the ear by an intervening strand. The one piercing
of the Sioux ear had a long loop directly through it, and from the
bottom of this long loop dangled another loop of the same kind. The
Pawnees, Kiowas and Apaches had various piercings around the edge of
the ear lobe, each piercing having in it a small ring. The Arapahoes
and the Utes had ear decorations resembling the Cheyennes.
The Sioux wore necklaces, regularly in single strands. The Crow
necklaces ordinarily were in multiple strands. In the old times the
Cheyennes did not wear decorative necklaces, but later they adopted
the fashion to some extent. Mostly they designed them in single
strands, like the Sioux standard plan. But the multiple curved loops
of the Crows became also fashionable among us. Eagle feathers stuck
up from the back hair of many a Sioux. The number of such feathers
worn by any one man was supposed to denote the number of enemies he
had killed. The Cheyennes never adopted this custom.
All Indian lodges coming under my observation were built on the same
general lines. The conical tepee was the standard form. Buffalo
skin was the standard material for covering the poles. The size was
regulated according to the quantity of skins available or according
to the number of persons in the household or according to some other
special condition. But there were tribal differences that enabled an
informed observer to distinguish camps or even to classify a lone
tepee.
The Sioux lodge was unusually tall and was narrow at the base. Its
flap opening at the top was large and long. The Pawnee lodge was the
opposite of the Sioux. It was remarkably low and broad, and it had
a short and small top flap opening. The Cheyennes and the Arapahoes
had tepee plans alike, in general form midway between the Sioux and
the Pawnee structure. The camp circle as a whole was in all cases
the same--a horseshoe with its opening to the east. All Indians had
also the same custom of placing each tepee with its entrance opening
facing the rising sun.
Inside the Cheyenne lodge an old woman slept just at the left side
of the entrance. Next past her, still on the left side, the lodge’s
owner and his wife had their bed. If the family was large the girls
slept near the father and mother while the boys were located across
on the opposite side of the earth floor. Other adults, or whatever
guests might be there, were placed between the spaces allotted to the
boys and the girls or were put between the boys and the right hand
side of the entrance opening.
An old woman was an important part of every household organization.
This was the custom among all of the plains Indians, especially in
families where girls were growing up. This old woman saw that each
occupant of the lodge used only his or her own proper bed or place
of waking repose. She compelled each to keep his or her personal
belongings beside or at the head of the owner’s assigned space. She
was at the same time the household policeman, the night watchman
and the drudge. Ordinarily her badge of office was a club. She was
conceded the authority to use this club in enforcing the rules of the
lodge.
[Illustration: CHEYENNE WOMEN SETTING UP A TEPEE]
From fifteen to seventeen buffalo skins were united to make a
covering for the usual Cheyenne lodge. When skins were plentiful not
many lodges had less than fifteen, regardless of the condition that
some of the tepees might have in each only a young married couple,
with perhaps an old woman or some other one or two added people.
On the other hand, rarely was a lodge larger than seventeen skins,
even if twenty people were sheltered there. The larger lodges had
to have heavier poles, and, in moving, these with the skins had to
be transported by the horses. Too much of such burden hindered the
progress of the camp movement. Big lodges made pleasant abodes, but
they were troublesome in traveling. The average and usual Cheyenne
tepee was twelve to fifteen feet in diameter across its earth floor.
The height from the floor’s center to the tepee’s peak was the
same as the diameter of the floor. That was the regular standard
architectural plan of a Cheyenne lodge.
The camp circle of the Northern Cheyenne tribe, all assembled,
enclosed a space about one-fourth or one-third of a mile in
diameter. It usually straddled a small stream of water. If the
location permitted, a position was taken near to a larger stream
into which the small one emptied. Hunting parties or war parties of
men made themselves temporary night shelters of willow wands stuck
into the ground, bent over and tied together for a dome roof, then
covered with robes. Or, such parties crept into caves or sought the
protection of heavy brush and thick foliage. The main camp never
went into high mountains during the winter. Too much snow. Mountain
campings were made during the summer season.
For moving the village, the usual time for leaving the old site
was about nine o’clock in the morning, I believe. Not much if any
preparation was made until that morning came. The arrival at the next
stop would be about the middle of the afternoon. Long before dark
the whole village would be set up and everybody would be at home, as
if this had been the dwelling place for many months. A thousand or
several thousand people might travel along that way from day to day,
actually moving their towns or cities, taking all of their property,
their wives and children and old people, their horses and their dogs,
everything that made up a full home life. I think that is better
than the white people can do.
The women did all of the work of moving. They took down the lodges,
packed and attended to the transportation of them and all of the
household effects, set up the lodges at the new location and put
all of the furnishing and personal baggage in the right places in
each lodge. The whole removal was accomplished during a part of
one day. In such traveling we sometimes could outrun the soldiers,
notwithstanding they had only themselves and their horses to
care for. We often got our homes and all of our people and their
belongings across rivers where the soldiers could not or did not
follow us.
The women brought wood, cut it, kept the fires burning, cooked the
food, cared for the children, did all of the home work. The men took
care of the horses, guarded against enemies and fought them when
necessary or when desirable, hunted the wild game, brought in the
meat and the skins. Ordinarily a man did not toil at domestic tasks
nor did a woman hunt or fight. In emergency, though, either a man or
a woman might aid or take the place of the other.
Women used saddles for riding. They sat astride. The saddles were
made by them, the tree of elkhorn or of hard wood, this wrapped with
buffalo rawhide sewed in place with shredded tendon sinew thread.
They also made pack saddles of the same material, but having a
different form. Old men likewise used saddles. But young men always
rode bareback. I learned to use a saddle as a scout at Fort Keogh
after our Indian roaming and fighting days were past. The white
people say we mount a horse from the wrong side, but I never changed
that. They say too that we do not know how to sharpen a knife. In
doing this we grind only one side of the knife’s edge. But we make
them keen by that method. I see no need for grinding both sides of a
knife’s blade.
I did not smoke during my boyhood. As a youth I took occasional
tastes, but the habit was not formed. The Cheyennes of those days did
not chew tobacco. My father gave me a medicine pipe, for devotional
or ceremonial smoking, when I was seventeen years old. He himself
made it. The bowl was of red stone. My mother made me a long buckskin
pouch and beaded it, this to contain my pipe and tobacco--or, the
mixture that commonly is known as kinnikinick. This mixture was half
tobacco--plug tobacco shaved off and dried--and half dried inner bark
of the red willow. In the South our people used some other kind of
bark, as our northern red willow did not grow there.
Old-time pipes, before my days, were made of deer leg bone. The bone
was wrapped with rawhide strips taken from the back of a buffalo’s
head. This wrapping was partly for the spirit influence and partly to
keep the bone from breaking when heated by the smoking.
We wore clothing, winter and summer. We had light summer moccasins
and heavy winter moccasins. These always were cut low and had but one
string, whereas the Sioux moccasins were cut high, to lap around the
legs, and had two or more strings. One time I saw some white children
barefooted. I pitied them, supposing them to be very poor. When I was
a small boy, a soldier at the fort on Buffalo creek gave me a hat.
Not long afterward I lost it. I was eighteen years old before I got
another one. It was not customary for men, except old men, to wear
any special head covering. Women all went bareheaded or covered the
head with a shawl or a blanket or a robe.
The buffalo hat was worn by old men. It was made of buffalo rawhide.
A broad oval segment of the skin was used. An irregular circle was
marked on this surface, the drawing made to accord with the shape of
the head. From the center to the outer rim of this circle several
cuts were made. The cut flaps were lifted to stand upright. This left
the crown wide open and its rim surrounded by the upstanding diamond
points. A leather thong under the chin held the hat in place.
Our people learned from the Crows this way of making hats. That
is, we discovered the idea from them. One time, when the Cheyennes
were camped on Tongue river above the present Sheridan, the Crows
stole some horses from us. As the Cheyennes pursued them the Crows
abandoned the horses and fled. They lost two hats, and the Cheyennes
found these. They were used as patterns. My father used to wear a
cloth over his open-top hat, to shield his head from the sun’s heat.
Every old man made his own hat.
Buffalo robes from adult animals served as overcoats for men or
women. Buffalo calf or deer robes were used by the children. Buffalo
hair sometimes was stuffed into the moccasins to keep the feet
warm. Grease paint was used on the face for the principal purpose
of shielding the skin from cold during the winter and from sunburn
during the summer. The most common color was a brownish red, but
personal fancy might choose some other color or some combination.
Each warrior also had his particular mode of painting himself, his
spirit or medicine ornamentation, when preparing for battle or for
death or for social mingling.
All of the best clothing was taken along with him when any warrior
set out upon a search for conflict. The articles were put into a
special bag--ordinarily a beautifully beaded buckskin pouch, but
perhaps a rawhide one--and this was slung at one side of his horse.
The bag also contained extra moccasins--beaded moccasins--warbonnet,
paints, a mirror, special medicine objects, or anything else of
this nature. If a battle seemed about to occur, the warrior’s first
important preparatory act was to jerk off all his ordinary clothing.
He then hurriedly got out his fine garments. If he had time to do
so he rebraided his hair, painted his face in his own peculiar way,
did everything needful to prepare himself for presenting his most
splendid personal appearance. That is, he got himself ready to die.
The idea of full dress in preparation for a battle comes not from a
belief that it will add to the fighting ability. The preparation is
for death, in case that should be the result of the conflict. Every
Indian wants to look his best when he goes to meet the Great Spirit,
so the dressing up is done whether the imminent danger is an oncoming
battle or a sickness or injury at times of peace. Some Indian tribes
did not pay full attention to this matter, some of them seeming not
to care whether they took life risks while naked or while only partly
clad or shabbily clad. But the Cheyennes and the Sioux were careful
in following out the procedure. When any of them got into a fight not
expected, with no opportunity to dress properly, they usually ran
away and avoided close contact and its consequent risks. Enemy people
not understanding their ways might suppose them to be cowards because
of such flight. In fact, these same apparent cowards might be the
bravest of the brave when they have on their good clothing and feel
that they may present a respectable appearance if called from this
life to meet the Great Spirit.
The naked fighters, among the Cheyennes and the Sioux, were such
warriors as specially fortified themselves by prayer and other
devotional exercises. They had special instruction from medicine men.
Their naked bodies were painted in peculiar ways, each according to
the direction of his favorite spiritual guide, and each had his own
medicine charms given to him by this guide. A warrior thus made ready
for battle was supposed to be proof against the weapons of the enemy.
He placed himself in the forefront of the attack or the defense. His
thought was: “I am so protected by my medicine that I do not need to
dress for death. No bullet nor arrow can harm me now.” On the other
hand, a warrior not made ready by special religious exercise and
appliances had in his heart the thought: “A bullet or an arrow may
hit me and kill me. I must dress myself so as to please the Great
Spirit if I should go now to Him.”
Warbonnets were not worn by all warriors. In fact, there were only
a few such distinguished men in each warrior society of our tribe.
It was expected that one should be a student of the fighting art for
several years, or else that he be an unusually apt learner, before
he should put on the crown of eagle feathers. He then did so upon
his own initiative, or perhaps because of the commendatory urgings
of his seniors. The act meant a profession of fully acquired ability
in warfare, a claim of special accomplishment in using cunning and
common sense and cool calculation coupled with the bravery attributed
to all warriors. The wearer was supposed never to ask mercy in
battle. If some immature young man pretended to such high standing
before it seemed to his companions that he ought to do so, he was
twitted and shamed into awaiting his proper time. I first put on my
warbonnet when I was thirty-three years old, fourteen years after
I had quit the roaming life. After a man had been accepted as a
warbonnet man he remained so throughout his lifetime. War chiefs
and tribal chiefs ordinarily were warbonnet men, but this was not a
requirement for these positions. Pure modesty might keep the bravest
and most capable fighter from making the claim. Also, an admittedly
worthy wearer of the warbonnet might not be chosen for or might
refuse all official positions. The feathered headpiece, then, was not
a sign of public office. It was a token of individual and personal
feeling as to his own fighting capabilities.
The warbonnet was made by the man who was to wear it. His wife,
mother or sister made only the beaded band for the forehead. The
man made also whatever spirit charm objects he might use, or he got
a medicine man to make them for him. The women made all of the war
shirts, leggings, moccasins and such clothing for the men. They also
made all of the common clothing for the men, for themselves, and for
all members of the household. The men made their own pipes, weapons,
lariat ropes and such other articles as were used by men only.
Our hand mirrors were not used entirely for dressing and painting. We
made use of them for signaling. Two persons who understood each other
could exchange thoughts in this way over long distances, and even
when they could not see each other. Some kinds of such signals were
understood by all of our people. The little glass was often useful
in approaching a camp when the traveler was in doubt whether it was
an assemblage of his own people or of an enemy or unknown people. In
such cases, flashes of inquiry and flashes of response, or lack of
responses, settled the doubt.
My father bought me a rifle and a six-shooter when I was about
sixteen years old. He got them at a trader’s store somewhere, when he
went away on a journey to the place. He exchanged buffalo robes for
them. The rifle was a muzzle loader, using powder, bullet and caps.
The six-shooter also was loaded in the same way. Before that time I
had learned to shoot with other people’s guns, but these were the
first ones I ever owned.
Some Indians used to cut off the rifle barrels, to make them lighter
for carrying on horseback. It was supposed they would shoot just as
well with the short barrel. We never cut off the stock. The shortened
rifles were used in chasing buffalo on horseback. Such weapons could
be handled with one hand while the horse was controlled with the
other. They were known to us as the “buffalo gun.”
An old-time way of killing buffalo was by chasing them in winter
over a steep bluff into a deep snowdrift. As they floundered there
they could be speared or beaten to death. A few times I was in that
kind of hunt. I heard old people tell of having used snowshoes to go
after buffalo, but I never saw any of that kind of hunting. We always
stripped the meat from the bones while butchering. The only bones we
took were the ribs. We sometimes used the legs as mauls to break up
the ribs. Oh, how good was buffalo rib roast!
Four arrows was the regular allowance for the killing of one buffalo
during a horseback chase. The need of more than that number was
discreditable to the skill of the bowman. Less than that was a matter
for boasting. If one killed a buffalo with only one arrow, that was
wonderful.
I have helped in the chasing of antelope bands over a cliff. In the
Black Hills was one special place where we worked for our meat in
that manner. The creek near by was called Antelope creek. The first
time I went there an old man accompanied me. We located ourselves
in hiding near the base of the cliff, with women and old people and
children. Two young men rounded up a herd and drove them over for us.
Many of them were killed or got broken legs. We clubbed to death the
injured ones.
We could get food, clothing and shelter from the buffalo only.
Saddles and harness, halters and bridles, were made by using their
rawhide. Stout thongs for all purposes were cut from them. For a
rawhide lariat rope, long strands were cut by following around the
outside of a buffalo rawhide. Three or four of these strands were
plaited together. Buffalo hair, particularly from the neck of a bull,
also was spun into long strands and plaited to make a lariat. The
buffalo, then, was very important to us in our mode of life. When any
man went out specially hunting them he usually led two or three pack
horses to bring in his gathered supply of food and skins.
Fishing lines were made of horsehair. The hairs were tied to make
long threads, and these were plaited together. We got metal hooks
from the white men traders. I have caught rabbits also with baited
hooks on the horsehair lines. I heard of eagles having been captured
in that way. But I never tried it on an eagle. The Arapahoes used to
be great eagle hunters. Old men told me the Cheyennes in past times
had caught them from pits. The pit was covered with sticks, and a
dead rabbit or some other tempting flesh bait was placed upon the
sticks over the center of the pit. The hunter hid himself below the
bait. When an eagle alighted he seized its legs, jerked it down,
grabbed its head and wrung its neck.
Twisting rabbits out of a hollow log, using a forked stick to get the
hold for pulling them, was a boyhood game. I set my muzzle loader
rifle one time on the upper Rosebud as a trap and caught a fox. I
have caught coyotes by that same means. The taking of the bait pulled
the trigger and shot the animal. A piece of fat meat was the best
lure for them. I have poisoned lots of wolves and got their pelts.
A good way is to put the poisoned meat upon the top of a stick stuck
into the snow, the meat being about on a level with a wolf’s body.
The trapper goes back next day and follows the trial of whatever wolf
might have gone away from the stick.
My first choice of meat was antelope. Buffalo was a close second
choice. Deer and elk came next. It appeared, though, that no Indian
ever got actually turned against buffalo flesh. Beaver, rabbit,
prairie chickens, bear, fish and turtles are good. Otter or wolf are
not good, except wolf pups taste good if one be hungry. Dogs are the
same as wolves. An old dog or an old wolf being boiled sickens me.
Boiling pups give out almost as bad an odor.
Salt was in use by the Cheyennes before I was born. We used it when
we had it, but we did not always have it. There was a stream known
to the Indians as Salt creek somewhere in the South. From there the
Southern Cheyennes used to bring to us great chunks of salt. We
sometimes smoked our meat, partly to help in preserving it and partly
because the flavor was an agreeable change at times.
Steel and flint was the usual source of fire. Neither my older
brother nor myself had these, but my father had a good pair. We used
to borrow from him. In the usual personal traveling pack was a small
box or bag containing steel, flint and kindling. Dried buffalo dung,
usually known as “buffalo chips,” makes good kindling when it is
pulverized. Spark, kindle, blow, spark, kindle, blow, until a small
blaze is started. Then put on twigs or grass, then small wood, then
large wood. Buffalo chips in their natural chunks made good wood.
The Crows used to have a custom of making a pile of buffalo chips to
be kicked to pieces by whoever might come to camp pretending to bear
an important message. This was by way of oath that he would tell the
truth. There was no such custom among the Cheyennes. Our way was to
build a bonfire and call the chiefs. No oath of any kind was taken.
It was supposed the truth would be told without special promise.
Perhaps that was not the case with the Crows.