"Hold on boys, don't run. There are only seven Indians there. Come on,
and we will kill them all. Get off your horses and come ahead on foot.
There are only seven of them. We will kill them all."
The men stopped in their retreat, dismounted, and under Ralph's
direction and leadership, went forward, and did kill all the Indians
in the ravine.
[Illustration: KNIFE SCABBARD.]
A CHEYENNE BLANKET.
The Cheyennes, like other Indians, do not speak to each other when
they are away from the camp. If a man goes away from the village, and
sits or stands by himself on the top of a hill, it is a sign that he
wants to be alone; perhaps to meditate; perhaps to pray. No one speaks
to him or goes near him.
Now, there was once a Pawnee boy, who went off on the warpath to the
Cheyenne camp. In some way he had obtained a Cheyenne blanket. This
Pawnee came close to the Cheyenne camp, and hid himself there to wait.
About the middle of the afternoon, he left his hiding place, and
walked to the top of the hill overlooking the village. He had his
Cheyenne blanket wrapped about him and over his head, with only a
little hole for his eyes. He stood there for an hour or two, looking
over the Cheyenne camp.
They were coming in from buffalo hunting, and some were leading in the
pack horses loaded down with meat. A man came along, riding a horse
packed with meat, and leading another pack horse, and a black spotted
horse that was his running horse. These running horses are ridden only
on the chase or on war parties, and are well cared for. After being
used they are taken down to the river and are washed and cleaned with
care. When the boy saw this spotted horse, he thought to himself that
this was the horse that he would take. When the man who was leading it
reached his lodge, he dismounted and handed the ropes to his women,
and went inside.
Then the Pawnee made up his mind what he would do. He started down the
hill into the village, and walked straight to this lodge where the
women were unloading the meat. He walked up to them, reached out his
hand, and took the ropes of the spotted horse and one of the others.
As he did so the women fell back. Probably they thought that this was
some one of the relations of the owner, who was going to take the
running horse down to the river to wash it. The Pawnee could not talk
Cheyenne, but as he turned away he mumbled something--_m-m-m-m_--as if
speaking in a low voice, and then walked down toward the river. As
soon as he had gone down over the bank and was out of sight, he jumped
on the spotted horse and rode into the brush, and pretty soon was away
with two horses, stolen out of the Cheyenne camp in broad daylight.
[Illustration: A WAR SHIELD.]
LITTLE WARRIOR'S COUNSEL.
Most of the Pawnee heroes are so regarded because of victories, daring
deeds, the _coups_ they have counted and the horses they have stolen.
The glory of Comanche Chief and of Lone Chief depends mainly on their
bravery, rather than on the fact that they were peace-makers. Yet
there should be room among these stories for the account of an
educated Pawnee--a brave--who by his wise counsel to an Indian of a
hostile tribe saved many lives, both of Indians and of white men.
Little Warrior was educated at a Western college, but has shown his
bravery on the field of battle, and has sacrificed a scalp to
_Ti-ra´-wa_.
In the year 1879, at the time of the Ute outbreak, after Major
Thornburgh's command had been annihilated, Little Warrior was employed
as a scout for the troops. On the headwaters of the Arkansas River he
was one day scouting in advance of the command, in company with four
white soldiers and four Indian scouts. One day, the party saw far off
on the prairie an Indian, who showed a white flag, and came toward
them. When he had come near to them, the soldiers proposed to kill
him, and report that he was a Ute, one of the Indians that they were
looking for. But Little Warrior said, "No. He has a white flag up, and
it may be that he is carrying a dispatch, or, perhaps, he is a white
man disguised as an Indian."
When the man had come close to them, they saw that he was dressed like
a Comanche; he did not have the bristling fringe of hair over the
forehead that the Utes wear, and his side locks were unbraided. Little
Warrior asked him, by signs, if he was alone, to which he replied in
the same language that he was alone. Then Little Warrior inquired who
he was. The stranger made the sign for Comanche--a friendly tribe.
They took him into the camp, and after a while Little Warrior began to
talk to him in Comanche. He could not understand a word of it.
Then the Pawnee said to him, "My friend, you are a Ute." The stranger
acknowledged that he was.
Then Little Warrior talked to him, and gave him much good advice. He
said, "My friend, you and I have the same skin, and what I tell you
now is for your good. I speak to you as a friend, and what I say to
you now is so that you may save your women and your children. It is of
no use for you to try to fight the white people. I have been among
them, and I know how many they are. They are like the grass. Even if
you were to kill a hundred it would be nothing. It would be like
burning up a few handfuls of prairie grass. There would be just as
many left. If you try to fight them they will hunt you like a ghost.
Wherever you go they will follow after you, and you will get no rest.
The soldiers will be continually on your tracks. Even if you were to
go up on top of a high mountain, where there was nothing but rocks,
and where no one else could come, the soldiers would follow you, and
get around you, and wait, and wait, even for fifty years. They would
have plenty to eat, and they could wait until after you were dead.
There is one white man who is the chief of all this country, and what
he says must be done. It is no use to fight him.
"Now if you are wise you will go out and get all your people, and
bring them in, on to the reservation, and give yourself up. It will be
better for you in the end. I speak to you as a friend, because we are
both the same color, and I hope that you will listen to my words."
The Ute said, "My friend, your words are good, and I thank you for the
friendly advice you have given me. I will follow it and will agree to
go away and bring in my people."
Little Warrior said, "How do you make a promise?"
The Ute said, "By raising the right hand to one above."
Little Warrior said, "That is the custom also among my people."
The Ute raised his hand and made the promise.
After he had been detained two or three weeks, he was allowed to go,
and about a month afterward, he brought in the band of which he was
chief, and surrendered. Through his influence afterward, the whole
tribe came in and gave themselves up. He was grateful to Little
Warrior for what he had done for him, and told him that if he ever
came back into his country he would give him many ponies.
A COMANCHE BUNDLE.
A Pawnee boy went to the Comanche village after horses. At night he
went into the camp, crept to the door of a lodge, and took a horse
that was tied there. It was bright moonlight, and as he was cutting
the rope he saw, hanging before the lodge, a handsome shield and a
spear, which he took. There was also a bundle hanging there. He took
this down, opened it, and found in it a war bonnet, beaded moccasins
and leggings, and a breast-plate of long beads. He dressed himself in
all these fine things, mounted the horse and rode away.
_FOLK-TALES._
THE DUN HORSE.
I.
Many years ago, there lived in the Pawnee tribe an old woman and her
grandson, a boy about sixteen years old. These people had no relations
and were very poor. They were so poor that they were despised by the
rest of the tribe. They had nothing of their own; and always, after
the village started to move the camp from one place to another, these
two would stay behind the rest, to look over the old camp, and pick up
anything that the other Indians had thrown away, as worn out or
useless. In this way they would sometimes get pieces of robes, worn
out moccasins with holes in them, and bits of meat.
Now, it happened one day, after the tribe had moved away from the
camp, that this old woman and her boy were following along the trail
behind the rest, when they came to a miserable old worn out dun horse,
which they supposed had been abandoned by some Indians. He was thin
and exhausted, was blind of one eye, had a bad sore back, and one of
his forelegs was very much swollen. In fact, he was so worthless that
none of the Pawnees had been willing to take the trouble to try to
drive him along with them. But when the old woman and her boy came
along, the boy said, "Come now, we will take this old horse, for we
can make him carry our pack." So the old woman put her pack on the
horse, and drove him along, but he limped and could only go very
slowly.
II.
The tribe moved up on the North Platte, until they came to Court House
Rock. The two poor Indians followed them, and camped with the others.
One day while they were here, the young men who had been sent out to
look for buffalo, came hurrying into camp and told the chiefs that a
large herd of buffalo were near, and that among them was a spotted
calf.
The Head Chief of the Pawnees had a very beautiful daughter, and when
he heard about the spotted calf, he ordered his old crier to go about
through the village, and call out that the man who killed the spotted
calf should have his daughter for his wife. For a spotted robe is
_ti-war´-uks-ti_--big medicine.
The buffalo were feeding about four miles from the village, and the
chiefs decided that the charge should be made from there. In this way,
the man who had the fastest horse would be the most likely to kill the
calf. Then all the warriors and the young men picked out their best
and fastest horses, and made ready to start. Among those who prepared
for the charge was the poor boy on the old dun horse. But when they
saw him, all the rich young braves on their fast horses pointed at
him, and said, "Oh, see; there is the horse that is going to catch the
spotted calf;" and they laughed at him, so that the poor boy was
ashamed, and rode off to one side of the crowd, where he could not
hear their jokes and laughter.
When he had ridden off some little way, the horse stopped, and turned
his head round, and spoke to the boy. He said, "Take me down to the
creek, and plaster me all over with mud. Cover my head and neck and
body and legs." When the boy heard the horse speak, he was afraid; but
he did as he was told. Then the horse said, "Now mount, but do not
ride back to the warriors, who laugh at you because you have such a
poor horse. Stay right here, until the word is given to charge." So
the boy stayed there.
And presently all the fine horses were drawn up in line and pranced
about, and were so eager to go that their riders could hardly hold
them in; and at last the old crier gave the word, "_Loo-ah_"--Go! Then
the Pawnees all leaned forward on their horses and yelled, and away
they went. Suddenly, away off to the right, was seen the old dun
horse. He did not seem to run. He seemed to sail along like a bird. He
passed all the fastest horses, and in a moment he was among the
buffalo. First he picked out the spotted calf, and charging up
alongside of it, _U-ra-rish!_ straight flew the arrow. The calf fell.
The boy drew another arrow, and killed a fat cow that was running by.
Then he dismounted and began to skin the calf, before any of the other
warriors had come up. But when the rider got off the old dun horse,
how changed he was! He pranced about and would hardly stand still near
the dead buffalo. His back was all right again; his legs were well and
fine; and both his eyes were clear and bright.
The boy skinned the calf and the cow that he had killed, and then he
packed all the meat on the horse, and put the spotted robe on top of
the load, and started back to the camp on foot, leading the dun horse.
But even with this heavy load the horse pranced all the time, and was
scared at everything he saw. On the way to camp, one of the rich young
chiefs of the tribe rode up by the boy, and offered him twelve good
horses for the spotted robe, so that he could marry the Head Chief's
beautiful daughter; but the boy laughed at him and would not sell the
robe.
Now, while the boy walked to the camp leading the dun horse, most of
the warriors rode back, and one of those that came first to the
village, went to the old woman, and said to her, "Your grandson has
killed the spotted calf." And the old woman said, "Why do you come to
tell me this? You ought to be ashamed to make fun of my boy, because
he is poor." The warrior said, "What I have told you is true," and
then he rode away. After a little while another brave rode up to the
old woman, and said to her, "Your grandson has killed the spotted
calf." Then the old woman began to cry, she felt so badly because
every one made fun of her boy, because he was poor.
Pretty soon the boy came along, leading the horse up to the lodge
where he and his grandmother lived. It was a little lodge, just big
enough for two, and was made of old pieces of skin that the old woman
had picked up, and was tied together with strings of rawhide and
sinew. It was the meanest and worst lodge in the village. When the old
woman saw her boy leading the dun horse with the load of meat and the
robes on it, she was very much surprised. The boy said to her, "Here,
I have brought you plenty of meat to eat, and here is a robe, that you
may have for yourself. Take the meat off the horse." Then the old
woman laughed, for her heart was glad. But when she went to take the
meat from the horse's back, he snorted and jumped about, and acted
like a wild horse. The old woman looked at him in wonder, and could
hardly believe that it was the same horse. So the boy had to take off
the meat, for the horse would not let the old woman come near him.
III.
That night the horse spoke again to the boy and said, "_Wa-ti-hes
Chah´-ra-rat wa-ta_. To-morrow the Sioux are coming--a large war party.
They will attack the village, and you will have a great battle. Now,
when the Sioux are drawn up in line of battle, and are all ready to
fight, you jump on to me, and ride as hard as you can, right into the
middle of the Sioux, and up to their Head Chief, their greatest
warrior, and count _coup_ on him, and kill him, and then ride back. Do
this four times, and count _coup_ on four of the bravest Sioux, and
kill them, but don't go again. If you go the fifth time, may be you
will be killed, or else you will lose me. _La-ku´-ta-chix_--remember."
So the boy promised.
The next day it happened as the horse had said, and the Sioux came
down and formed a line of battle. Then the boy took his bow and
arrows, and jumped on the dun horse, and charged into the midst of
them. And when the Sioux saw that he was going to strike their Head
Chief, they all shot their arrows at him, and the arrows flew so
thickly across each other that the sky became dark, but none of them
hit the boy. And he counted _coup_ on the Chief, and killed him, and
then rode back. After that he charged again among the Sioux, where
they were gathered thickest, and counted _coup_ on their bravest
warrior, and killed him. And then twice more, until he had gone four
times as the horse had told him.
But the Sioux and the Pawnees kept on fighting, and the boy stood
around and watched the battle. And at last he said to himself, "I have
been four times and have killed four Sioux, and I am all right, I am
not hurt anywhere; why may I not go again?" So he jumped on the dun
horse, and charged again. But when he got among the Sioux, one Sioux
warrior drew an arrow and shot. The arrow struck the dun horse behind
the forelegs and pierced him through. And the horse fell down dead.
But the boy jumped off, and fought his way through the Sioux, and ran
away as fast as he could to the Pawnees. Now, as soon as the horse was
killed, the Sioux said to each other, "This horse was like a man. He
was brave. He was not like a horse." And they took their knives and
hatchets, and hacked the dun horse and gashed his flesh, and cut him
into small pieces.
The Pawnees and Sioux fought all day long, but toward night the Sioux
broke and fled.
IV.
The boy felt very badly that he had lost his horse; and, after the
fight was over, he went out from the village to where it had taken
place, to mourn for his horse. He went to the spot where the horse
lay, and gathered up all the pieces of flesh, which the Sioux had cut
off, and the legs and the hoofs, and put them all together in a pile.
Then he went off to the top of a hill near by, and sat down and drew
his robe over his head, and began to mourn for his horse.
As he sat there, he heard a great wind storm coming up, and it passed
over him with a loud rushing sound, and after the wind came a rain.
The boy looked down from where he sat to the pile of flesh and bones,
which was all that was left of his horse, and he could just see it
through the rain. And the rain passed by, and his heart was very
heavy, and he kept on mourning.
And pretty soon, came another rushing wind, and after it a rain; and
as he looked through the driving rain toward the spot where the pieces
lay, he thought that they seemed to come together and take shape, and
that the pile looked like a horse lying down, but he could not see
well for the thick rain.
After this, came a third storm like the others; and now when he looked
toward the horse he thought he saw its tail move from side to side two
or three times, and that it lifted its head from the ground. The boy
was afraid, and wanted to run away, but he stayed.
And as he waited, there came another storm. And while the rain fell,
looking through the rain, the boy saw the horse raise himself up on
his forelegs and look about. Then the dun horse stood up.
V.
The boy left the place where he had been sitting on the hilltop, and
went down to him. When the boy had come near to him, the horse spoke
and said, "You have seen how it has been this day; and from this you
may know how it will be after this. But _Ti-ra´-wa_ has been good, and
has let me come back to you. After this, do what I tell you; not any
more, not any less." Then the horse said, "Now lead me off, far away
from the camp, behind that big hill, and leave me there to-night, and
in the morning come for me;" and the boy did as he was told.
And when he went for the horse in the morning, he found with him a
beautiful white gelding, much more handsome than any horse in the
tribe. That night the dun horse told the boy to take him again to the
place behind the big hill, and to come for him the next morning; and
when the boy went for him again, he found with him a beautiful black
gelding. And so for ten nights, he left the horse among the hills,
and each morning he found a different colored horse, a bay, a roan, a
gray, a blue, a spotted horse, and all of them finer than any horses
that the Pawnees had ever had in their tribe before.
Now the boy was rich, and he married the beautiful daughter of the
Head Chief, and when he became older, he was made Head Chief himself.
He had many children by his beautiful wife, and one day when his
oldest boy died, he wrapped him in the spotted calf robe and buried
him in it. He always took good care of his old grandmother, and kept
her in his own lodge until she died. The dun horse was never ridden
except at feasts, and when they were going to have a doctors' dance,
but he was always led about with the Chief, wherever he went. The
horse lived in the village for many years, until he became very old.
And at last he died.
A STORY OF FAITH.
Long ago, before they ever had any of these doctors' dances, there
was, in the Kit-ke-hahk´-i tribe, a young boy, small, growing up. He
seemed not to go with the other boys nor to play with them, but would
keep away from them. He would go off by himself, and lie down, and
sometimes they would find him crying, or half crying. He seemed to
have peculiar ways. His father and mother did not try to interfere
with him, but let him alone. Sometimes they would find him with mud or
clay smeared over his face and head. That is the sign of a doctor.
When you see a person putting mud on his face or head, it shows that
he has faith in the earth. From the earth are taken the roots that
they use in medicine.
When the parents saw this, they did not understand it. How should he
know anything about mud being the sign of a doctor? They did not
understand, but they just let him do it.
The boy grew up till he came to have the ways of a young man, but he
never went with any of the other boys. After he had grown up, they saw
that he had something in his mind. Sometimes he would fast for two
days, and sit by himself, smoking and praying to _Ti-ra´-wa_, and not
saying anything to any one. His father was a brave but not a chief,
and had plenty of horses. The son was well dressed and comfortably
off.
When any one in the camp was sick, this young man would take pity on
him, and of his own accord would go and doctor him, and pretty soon
the person would be well again. Through his doing this, the people
began to hear about him, and his name became great. He was humble, and
did not want to be thought well of. He was not proud, but he was
always doing good. At that time, there were many doctors in the tribe,
and they wondered how it was that he could cure so many people, when
he had never been taught by any of them. They could not understand it,
and they began to be jealous of him. He never wanted to be with the
doctors, but liked to stay by himself. He wanted to be alone rather
than with any one.
In that time there were bad doctors, and they began to hear about this
humble man and to be jealous of him. These bad doctors could curse a
man, and he would be cursed, and could poison one. They had great
power and influence, for everybody feared them.
The bands of the Pawnees were not then together, as they are now. As
the people talked about this young man, one of the other bands heard
about him. In this band was a great doctor, and this doctor thought to
himself, "This young man's influence is growing. If I do not do
something, he will soon be ahead of me."
This great doctor went to the village to visit this young man, to see
how he looked, and to find out how he got his knowledge and his power,
for he knew he had never been taught. He wanted to eat with him, and
talk with him, and find out whence his learning came. He reached the
Kit-ke-hahk´-i village. He was welcomed, and the young man treated him
with respect, and asked him to come into the lodge, and sit down with
him. At night they talked together. The great doctor said, "I am glad
to see you. You can come to me for advice sometimes." The young man
thanked him. They smoked together. It is the custom always when an
Indian is visiting another, for the one that is being visited to
present all the smokes; but at this time the great doctor said, "We
will smoke my tobacco." So all night they smoked his tobacco. The next
morning he went away. He did not again eat with the young man. He
said, "I am glad, and I am going." And he went away to his village.
This happened in the winter.
This young man was not married. His father had asked him to marry, but
he would not. He said he had reasons.
About summer time, he felt different from what he had. He was drowsy
and felt badly. He felt heavy. He seemed to be swelling up with some
strange new disease. The great doctor had poisoned him with this
result. How it was no one can tell, but it was so. This was a
disgrace, and he did not know how to get out of it. There was no way.
He would go off and cry, and pray to _Ti-ra´-wa_, and sometimes would
stay for three or four days without anything to eat. He was so
miserable that one time he was going to kill himself. He did not tell
his father or any one about this, but kept it to himself. The tribe
went off on a hunt and left the old village. Before they started, the
man went off on a hill somewhere to meditate and pray, and his father
told him that when he was ready to start he should ride such a horse,
and he left it in the village for him when he should come in.