INDIAN CUSTOMS.
During my forced sojourn with the Ogalallas, I had abundant opportunity
to observe the manners and customs peculiar to a race of people living
so near, and yet of whom so little is known by the general reader. A
chapter devoted to this subject will doubtless interest all who read
this narrative.
Nothing can be more simple in its arrangement than an Indian camp when
journeying, and especially when on the war path. The camping ground,
when practicable, is near a stream of water, and adjacent to timber.
After reaching the spot selected, the ponies are unloaded by the
squaws, and turned loose to graze. The tents, or “tipis,” are put up,
and wood and water brought for cooking purposes. All drudgery of this
kind is performed by the squaws, an Indian brave scorning as degrading
all kinds of labor not incident to the chase or the war path.
An Indian tipi is composed of several dressed skins, usually of the
buffalo, sewed together and stretched over a number of poles, the
larger ones containing as many as twenty of these poles, which are
fifteen to twenty feet long. They are of yellow pine, stripped of
bark, and are used as “travois” in traveling. Three poles are tied
together near the top or small ends, and raised to an upright position,
the bottoms being spread out as far as the fastening at the top will
permit. Other poles are laid into the crotch thus formed at the top,
and spread out in a circular line with the three first put up. This
comprises the frame work, and when in the position described is ready
to receive the covering, which is raised to the top by means of a
rawhide rope, when, a squaw seizing each lower corner, it is rapidly
brought around, and the edges fastened together with wooden pins, a
squaw getting down on all fours, forming a perch upon which the tallest
squaw of the family mounts and inserts the pins as high as she can
reach. A square opening in the tent serves for a door, and is entered
in a stooping posture. A piece of hide hangs loosely over this opening,
and is kept in position by a heavy piece of wood fastened at the bottom.
When in position, the Indian tipi is of the same shape as the Sibley
tent. In the middle is built a fire, where all the cooking is done, a
hole at the top affording egress for the smoke. The preparation for a
meal is a very simple affair. Meat was almost their only article of
diet, and was generally roasted, or rather warmed through over the
fire, though sometimes it was partially boiled, and always eaten
without salt or bread. They have no set time for eating; will fast all
of one day, and perhaps eat a dozen times the next.
The outer edge of the tent contains the beds of the family, which are
composed of buffalo robes and blankets. These are snugly rolled up
during the day, and do service as seats.
If there is reason to suppose an enemy near, no fire is allowed in the
camp; and in that case each one satisfies appetite as best he or she
can, but generally with “pa-pa,” or dried buffalo meat.
An Indian camp at close of day presents a most animated picture. The
squaws passing to and fro, loaded with wood and water, or meat, or
guiding the sledges drawn by dogs, carrying their all; dusky warriors
squatted on the ground, in groups, around fires built in the open
air, smoking their pipes, or repairing weapons, and recounting their
exploits; half naked and naked children capering about in childish
glee, furnish a picture of the nomadic life of these Indians of strange
interest. Not more than ten minutes are required to set up an Indian
village.
When it becomes necessary to move a village, which fact is never known
to the people, a crier goes through the camp, shouting, “Egalakapo!
Egalakapo!” when all the squaws drop whatever work they may be engaged
in, and in an instant are busy as bees, taking down tipis, bringing
in the ponies and dogs, and loading them; and in less than fifteen
minutes the cavalcade is on the march.
The squaws accompany the men when they go to hunt buffalo, and as fast
as the animals are killed, they strip off their hides, and then cut off
the meat in strips about three feet long, three to four inches wide,
and two inches thick; and such is their skill that the bones will be
left intact and as free from meat as though they had been boiled. The
meat is then taken to camp and hung up to dry. It is most filthy, being
covered with grass and the excrement of the buffalo.
The medicine men treat all diseases nearly alike. The principal efforts
are directed to expelling the spirit, whatever it may be, which it is
expected the medicine man will soon discover, and having informed the
friends what it is, he usually requires them to be in readiness to
shoot it, as soon as he shall succeed in expelling it.
Incantations and ceremonies are used, intended to secure the aid of
the spirit, or spirits, the Indian worships. When he thinks he has
succeeded, the medicine man gives the command, and from two to six or
more guns are fired at the door of the tent to destroy the spirit as it
passes out.
Many of these medicine men depend wholly on conjuring, sitting by the
bedside of the patient, making gestures and frightful noises, shaking
rattles, and endeavoring, by all means in their power, to frighten
the evil spirit. They use fumigation, and are very fond of aromatic
substances, using and burning cedar and many different plants to
cleanse the tent in which the sick person lies.
The native plants, roots, herbs, and so forth, are used freely, and are
efficacious.
They are very careful to conceal from each other, except a few
initiated, as well as from white men, a knowledge of the plants used
as medicine, probably believing that their efficacy, in some measure,
depends on this concealment.
There is a tall, branching plant, growing abundantly in the open woods
and prairies near the Missouri River, which is used chiefly by the
Indians as a purgative, and is _euphorbia corrallata_, well known to
the botanist.
Medicines are generally kept in bags made of the skin of some animal.
All the drinks which are given the sick to quench thirst are
astringent, sometimes bitter and sometimes slightly mucilaginous.
The most common is called red-root (_ceanothus canadensis_), a plant
abounding in the western prairies, although they seem to have more
faith in some ceremony.
A dance peculiar to the tribe where I was, called the pipe dance, is
worth mentioning, and is called by the Indians a good medicine. A small
fire is kindled in the village, and around this the dancers, which
usually consist of young men, collect, each one seated upon a robe.
The presiding genius is a chief, or a medicine man, who seats himself
by a fire, with a long pipe which he prepares for smoking. Offering it
first to the Great Spirit, he then extends it toward the north, south,
east, and west, muttering unintelligibly. Meanwhile an equally august
personage beats a drum, singing and leaping and smoking. The master
of ceremonies sits calmly looking on, puffing away with all the vigor
imaginable.
The dance closes with piercing yells, and barking like frightened dogs,
and it lasts an hour or more.
When the mother gives birth to her child, it is not uncommon for no
other person to be present. She then lives in a hut or lodge by herself
until the child is twenty-five or thirty days old, when she takes it to
its father, who then sees his child for the first time.
Females, after parturition, and also in other conditions, bathe
themselves—swim, as they express it—in the nearest river or lake.
This is, no doubt, a most efficacious means of imparting strength and
vigor to the constitution, and it is certain that Indian females are
less subject to what are termed female complaints than white women.
It is an uncommon occurrence that an Indian woman loses her life in
parturition.
When the child is old enough to run alone, it is relieved of its
swathings, and if the weather is not too cold, it is sent off without a
particle of clothing to protect it or impede the action of its limbs,
and in this manner it is allowed to remain until it is several years
old, when it receives a limited wardrobe.
Despite the rugged and exposed life they lead, there are comparatively
few cripples and deformed persons among them. It is said that deformed
infants are regarded as unprofitable and a curse from the Great Spirit,
and disposed of by death soon after birth. Sometimes, at the death
of a mother, the infant is also interred. An incident of this kind
was related to me. A whole family had been carried off by small-pox
except an infant. Those who were not sick had as much to do as they
could conveniently attend to, consequently there was no one willing
to take charge of the little orphan. It was placed in the arms of its
dead mother, enveloped in blankets and a buffalo-robe, and laid upon a
scaffold in their burying-place. Its cries were heard for some time,
but at last they grew fainter, and finally were hushed altogether in
the cold embrace of death, with the moaning wind sounding its requiem,
and the wolves howling in the surrounding gloom, a fitting dirge for so
sad a fate.
The Indians believe that God, or the Great Spirit, created the universe
and all things just as they exist.
They believe the sun to be a large body of heat, and that it revolves
around the earth. Some believe it is a ball of fire. They do not
comprehend the revolution of the earth around the sun. They suppose
the sun literally rises and sets, and that our present theory is an
invention of the white man, and that he is not sincere when he says the
earth moves around the sun.
They say that paradise, or the happy hunting-grounds, is above, but
where, they have no definite idea, though all think the future a
happier state. They regard skill in hunting or success in war as the
passport to eternal happiness and plenty, where there is no cold or
wet season. Still they all acknowledge it is the gift of the “Wa-hon
Tonka,” the Great Spirit.
The manner of disposing of their dead is one of the peculiar customs
of the Indians of the plains which impresses the beholder for the
first time most forcibly. Four forked posts are set up, and on them
a platform is laid, high enough to be out of reach of wolves or
other carnivorous animals, and on this the body is placed, wrapped
in buffalo-robes or blankets, and sometimes both, according to the
circumstances of the deceased, and these are wound securely with a
strip of buffalo hide. If in the vicinity of timber, the body is
placed on a platform, securely fixed in the crotch of a high tree. The
wrappings of buffalo-robe or blankets protect the body from ravenous
birds that hover around, attracted by the scent of an anticipated feast.
All that pertained to the dead while living, in the way of furs,
blankets, weapons, cooking utensils, etc., are also deposited with the
body. In some instances, the horse belonging to the deceased is shot.
They believe that the spirit wanders off to distant hunting-grounds,
and as it may have to pass over a country where there is no game, a
quantity of dried buffalo meat is usually left with the body for its
subsistence. While on a journey, these burial places are held sacred
as those of a Christian nation, and when a tribe is passing such
localities they will make a detour rather than go the more direct road
by the resting-place of their dead, while the relatives leave the trail
and go alone to the spot, and there renew and repeat their mourning as
on the occasion of his death. They also leave presents for the dead of
such little trinkets as he most prized before he departed to his new
hunting-grounds.
The boys are early taught the arts of war. A bow and arrows are among
the first presents that an Indian youth receives from his parents,
and he is soon instructed in their use. Indeed, the skill of a hunter
seems to be a natural endowment, and, although some are more accurate
and active than others, they all shoot with wonderful precision and
surprising aptitude, seeming to inherit a passionate love for the
sports of the chase.
The Indian boy receives no name until some distinguishing trait of
character or feat suggests one, and changes it from time to time as
more fitting ones are suggested. Some of their names are very odd, and
some quite vulgar.
The wife is sometimes wooed and won, as if there was something of
sentiment in the Indian character, but oftener purchased without the
wooing. When the desired object is particularly attractive, and of a
good family, the courting and purchasing both may be required. When
a young brave goes courting, he decorates himself out in his best
attire, instinctively divining that appearances weigh much in the eyes
of a forest belle, or dusky maiden, who receives him bashfully, for a
certain kind of modesty is inherent in Indian girls, which is rather
incongruous when considered in connection with their peculiar mode of
life. Discretion and propriety are carefully observed, and the lovers
sit side by side in silence, he occasionally producing presents for
her acceptance. These express a variety of sentiment, and refer to
distinct and separate things; some signifying love; some, strength;
some, bravery; others allude to the life of servitude she is expected
to live if she becomes his wife. If they are accepted graciously, and
the maiden remains seated, it is considered equivalent to an assurance
of love on her part, and is acted upon accordingly. Although no woman’s
life is made less slavish by the marriage connection, and no one is
treated with respect, it is scarcely known in Indian life that a girl
has remained unmarried even to middle age.
When a chief desires to multiply the number of his wives, he often
marries several sisters, if they can be had, not because of any
particular fancy he may have for any but the one who first captivated
him, but because he thinks it more likely to have harmony in the
household when they are all of one family. Not even squaws can live
happily together, when each may have a part interest in the same man
as their husband jointly. Polygamy is inconsistent with the female
character, whether in barbarism or civilization.
As many skins as they can transport on their ponies, of the game killed
while on their hunts, are dressed by the squaws, and then taken to
some trading post, military station, or agency, and bartered off for
such articles as are most desired by them, such as beads, paints,
etc., and powder, lead, and caps. They are willing to allow much more
proportionately for ammunition than any other articles. They are most
outrageously swindled by the traders whom our Government licenses to
trade with them. A buffalo-robe which the trader sells for from ten to
fifteen dollars, is bought from the Indians for a pint cup of sugar and
a small handful of bullets, while furs of all kinds are exchanged for
paints and trinkets at equally disproportionate rates. The Indians know
they are cheated whenever they barter with the white traders, but they
have no remedy, as there is no competition, and hence much of their
disaffection.
Buffalo-robes, bearskins, and deer, and antelope skins are brought in
in great numbers; they shoot and trap the beaver and otter expressly
for their furs.
The Indians are almost universally fond of whisky, and have a strong
propensity for gambling. They will risk at cards almost every thing
they own, and if unsuccessful appear quite resigned to their loss,
resting in the gambler’s hope of “better luck next time.”
The squaws play a game with small bones of oblong shape, which seems to
have a great fascination for them, as I have known them to spend whole
days and nights at it, and in many instances gambling away every thing
they owned. Five of these pieces are used, each possessing a relative
value in the game, designated by spots from one to five on one side,
the other being blank. They are placed in a dish or small basket, which
is shaken and then struck upon the ground with a jar, tossing the
pieces over, and according to the number of spots up, so is the game
decided, very similar, I imagine, to the white man’s game of “high-die.”
They have a peculiar way of defining time. When they wish to designate
an hour of the day, they point to the position the sun should be in
at that time. The number of days is the number of sleeps. Their next
division of time is the number of moons, instead of our months; and the
seasons are indicated by the state of vegetation. For instance, spring
is when the grass begins to grow, and the autumn when the leaves fall
from the trees, while years are indicated by the season of snows.
There is a language of signs common to all the tribes, by which one
tribe may communicate with another without being able to speak or
understand its dialect. Each tribe is known by some particular sign.
The Indian is noted for his power of endurance of both fatigue and
physical pain. I have thought much upon the fear manifested by these
reputed brave barbarians; they seem to be borne down with the most
tormenting fear for their personal safety at all times, at home or
roaming for plunder, or when hunting, and yet courage is made a virtue
among them, while cowardice is the unpardonable sin. When compelled to
meet death, they seem to muster sullen, obstinate defiance of their
doom, that makes the most of a dreaded necessity, rather than seek a
preparation to meet it with submission, which they often dissemble, but
never possess.
Instinct, more than reason, is the guide of the red man. He repudiates
improvement, and despises manual effort. For ages has his heart been
imbedded in moral pollution.
The blanket, as worn by the Indian, is an insuperable barrier to his
advance in arts or agriculture. When this is forever dispensed with,
then his hands will be free to grasp the mechanic’s tools or guide the
plow. It is both graceful and chaste in their eyes, and to adopt the
white man’s dress is a great obstacle, a requirement too humiliating,
for they have personal as well as national pride. No hat is worn, but
the head is covered with feathers and rude ornaments. A heavy mass of
wampum, often very expensive, adorns the neck. Frequently the entire
rim of each ear is pierced with holes, and adorned with jewels of
silver, or something resembling it.
The Indian does every thing through motives of policy. He has none
of the kindlier feelings of humanity in him. He is as devoid of
gratitude as he is hypocritical and treacherous. He observes a treaty,
or promise, only so long as it is dangerous for him to disregard it,
or for his interest, in other ways, to keep it. Cruelty is inherent
in them, and is early manifested in the young, torturing birds,
turtles, or any little animal that may fall into their hands. They
seem to delight in it, while the pleasure of the adult in torturing
his prisoners is most unquestionable. They are inveterate beggars, but
never give, unless with a view to receive a more valuable present in
return.
The white man, he has been taught, is his enemy, and he has become the
most implacable enemy of the white man. His most fiendish murders of
the innocent is his sweetest revenge for a wrong that has been done by
another.
The youth are very fond of war. They have no other ambition, and
pant for the glory of battle, longing for the notes of the war song,
that they may rush in and win the feathers of a brave. They listen
to the stories of the old men, as they recall the stirring scenes
of their youth, or sing their war songs, which form only a boasting
recapitulation of their daring and bravery. They yearn for the glory
of war, which is the only path to distinction. Having no arts or
industrial pursuits, the tribes are fast waning from war, exposure, and
disease.
But few of the tribes cultivate the soil, the nature of the Indian
rendering in his eyes as degrading all labor not incident to the chase
or the war-path; and notwithstanding the efforts of missionaries,
and the vast sums of money expended by the Government to place them
on reservations and teach them the art of agriculture, the attempts
to civilize the Indian in that way may be considered almost a total
failure. The results bear no comparison to their cost.
Their ideas of the extent and power of the white race are very limited,
and after I had learned the language sufficiently to converse with
them, I frequently tried to explain to them the superior advantages
of the white man’s mode of living. They would ask me many questions,
as to the number of the white men on this side of the big water, and
how far that extended; and on being told of two big oceans, they would
ask if the whites owned the big country on the other side, and if
there were any Indians there. Many of my statements were received with
incredulity, and I was often called a liar, especially when I told of
the number and rapid increase of the white race; sometimes the older
ones would get angry. The younger ones were often eager listeners, and
especially in times of scarcity and hunger would they gather around me
to learn about the white man, and then would I endeavor to impress them
with the advantages of a fixed home and tilling the soil over their
wild, roaming life.