CHAPTER NINE.

In the remarks which I am about to make relative to the Shoshones, I may

as well observe that the same observations will equally apply to the

Comanches, Apaches, and Arrapahoes, as they are but subdivisions and

offsets from the original stock--the Shoshones. The Wakoes, who have

not yet been mentioned, or even seen, by any other travellers, I shall

hereafter describe.

I may as well here observe, that although the Shoshones are always at

peace with the Comanches and Apaches, they had for a long while been at

war with their descendants, the Arrapahoes, as well as the whole of the

Dacotah and Algonquin tribes, as the Crows and Rickarees, Black-feet,

Nez-perces, and others.

First, as to their religion--a question highly interesting, and perhaps

throwing more light upon their origin than can be collected from

tradition, manners, and customs. From my knowledge of the Indians, I

believe them, if not more religious, most certainly to be more

conscientious, than most Christians. They all believe in one God--

Manitou, the author of good, and worship him as such; but believing that

human nature is too gross to communicate with the Arbitrator of all

things, they pray generally through the intervention of the elements or

even of certain animals, in the same manner that the Catholics address

themselves to their saints.

The great Manitou is universal among this family and indeed among all

the savage tribes of North America. The interceding spirit alone

varies, not with the tribe and nation, but according to individual

selection. Children are taught to know "Kishe Manito" (the Almighty),

but no more. When the boy is verging upon manhood, he selects his own

personal deity, or household god, which is made known to him in his

dreams. When he states his intention of seeking the spirit, the parents

of the young man order him to fast for three days; then they take away

his bow and arrows, and send him far into the woods, the mountains, or

the prairies, to wait for the visitation.

An empty stomach and inaction in the lone wilderness are certain to

produce reveries and waking dreams. If the young man is thirsty, he

thinks of water; of fire or sunshine, if he feels cold; of buffalo or

fish, if he is hungry. Sometimes he meets with some reptile, and upon

any one of these or other natural causes or productions, his imagination

will work, until it becomes wholly engrossed by it.

Thus fire and water, the sun or the moon, a star, a buffalo, or a

snake--any one of them, will become the subject of his thoughts, and

when he sleeps, he naturally dreams of that object which he has been

brooding over.

He then returns home, engraves upon a stone, a piece of wood, or a skin,

the form of this "spirit" which his dream has selected for him, wears it

constantly on his person, and addresses it, not as a god, but as an

intercessor, through which his vows, must pass before they can reach the

fearful Lord of all things.

Some men among the Indians acquire, by their virtues and the regularity

of their lives, the privilege of addressing the Creator without any

intervention, and are admitted into the band, headed by the masters of

ceremonies and the presidents of the sacred lodges, who receive

neophytes and confer dignities. Their rites are secret; none but a

member can be admitted. These divines, as of old the priest of Isis and

Osiris, are deeply learned; and truly their knowledge of natural history

is astonishing. They are well acquainted with astronomy and botany, and

keep the records and great transactions of the tribes, employing certain

hieroglyphics, which they paint in the sacred lodges, and which none but

their caste or order can decipher.

Those few who, in their journey in the wilderness, have "dreamt" of a

snake and made it their "spirit," become invariably "Medecines." This

reptile, though always harmless in the western countries (except in some

parts of the mountains on the Columbia, where the rattle-snake abounds),

has ever been looked upon with dread by the Indians, who associate it

with the evil spirit. When "Kishe Manito" (the good God) came upon

earth, under the form of a buffalo, to alleviate the sufferings of the

red man, "kinebec" (the serpent), the spirit of evil, gave him battle.

This part of their creed alone would almost establish their Brahminic

origin.

The "Medecine" inspires the Indian with awe and dread; he is respected,

but he has no friends, no squaws, no children. He is the man of dark

deeds, he that communes with the spirit of evil: he takes his knowledge

from the earth, from the fissures of the rocks, and knows how to combine

poisons; he alone fears not "Anim Teki" (thunder). He can cure disease

with his spells, and with them he can kill also; his glance is that of

the snake, it withers the grass, fascinates birds and beasts, troubles

the brain of man, and throws in his heart, fear and darkness.

The Shoshone women, as well as the Apache and Arrapahoe, all of whom are

of the Shoshone race, are very superior to the squaws of the Eastern

Indians. They are more graceful in their forms, and have more personal

beauty. I cannot better describe them than by saying that they have

more similitude to the Arabian women than any other race. They are very

clean in their persons and in their lodges; and all their tribes having

both male and female slaves, the Shoshone wife is not broken down by

hard labour, as are the squaws of the eastern tribes; to their husbands

they are most faithful, and I really believe that any attempt upon their

chastity would prove unavailing. They ride as bravely as the men, and

are very expert with the bow and arrow. I once saw a very beautiful

little Shoshone girl, about ten years old, the daughter of a chief, when

her horse was at full speed, kill, with her bow and arrow, in the course

of a minute or two, nine out of a flock of wild turkeys which she was in

chase of.

Their dress is both tasteful and chaste. It is composed of a loose

shirt, with tight sleeves, made of soft and well-prepared doe-skin,

almost always dyed blue or red; this shirt is covered from the waist by

the toga, which falls four or six inches below the knee, and is made

either of swan-down, silk, or woollen stuff; they wear leggings of the

same material as the shirt, and cover their pretty little feet with

beautifully-worked mocassins; they have also a scarf, of a fine rich

texture, and allow their soft and long raven hair to fall luxuriantly

over their shoulder, usually ornamented with flowers, but sometimes with

jewels of great value; their andes and wrists are also encircled by

bracelets; and indeed to see one of these young and graceful creatures,

with her eyes sparkling and her face animated with the exercise of the

chase, often recalled to the mind a nymph of Diana, as described by

Ovid.

[The Comanches women very much resemble the common squaws, being short

and broad in figure. This arises from the Comanches secluding the

women, and not permitting them air and exercise.]

Though women participate not in the deeper mysteries of religion, some

of them are permitted to consecrate themselves to this divinity, and to

make vows of chastity, as the vestals of Paganism or the nuns of the

Catholic convents. But there is no seclusion. They dress as men,

covered with leather from head to foot, a painting of the sun on their

breasts. These women are warriors, but never go out with the parties,

remaining always behind to protect the villages. They also live alone,

are dreaded, but not loved. The Indian hates anything or any body that

usurps power, or oversteps those bounds which appear to him as natural

and proper, or who does not fulfil what he considers as their intended

destiny.

The fine evenings of summer are devoted, by the young Indian, to

courtship. When he has made his choice, he communicates it to his

parents, who take the business into their bands. Presents are carried

to the door of the fair one's lodge; if they are not accepted, there is

an end to the matter, and the swain must look somewhere else; if they

are taken in, other presents are returned, as a token of agreement.

These generally consist of objects of women's workmanship, such as

garters, belts, mocassins, etcetera; then follows a meeting of the

parents, which terminates by a speech from the girl's father, who

mentions his daughter as the "dove," or "lily," or "whisper of the

breeze," or any other pretty Indian name which may appertain to her.

She has been a good daughter, she will be a dutiful wife; her blood is

that of a warrior's; she will bear noble children to her husband, and

sing to them his great deeds, etcetera, etcetera. The marriage-day

arrives at last; a meal of roots and fruits is prepared; all are present

except the bridegroom, whose arms, saddles, and property are placed

behind the fair one. The door of the lodge is open, its threshold lined

with flowers; at sunset the young man presents himself; with great

gravity of deportment. As soon as he has taken a seat near the girl,

the guests beg in eating but in silence; but soon a signal is given by

the mothers, each guest rises, preparatory to retiring. At that moment,

the two lovers cross their hands, and the husband speaks for the first

time, interrogatively:--"Faithful to the lodge, faithful to the father,

faithful to his children?" She answers softly "Faithful, ever faithful,

in joy and in sorrow, in life and in death"--"Penir, penir-asha, sartir

nu cohta, lebeck nu tanim." It is the last formula,--the ceremony is

accomplished. This may seem very simple and ridiculous; to me it

appeared almost sublime. Opinions depend upon habits and education.

The husband remains a whole year with his father-in-law, to whom belongs

by right the produce of his hunting, both skins and flesh. The year

expired, his bondage is over, and he may, if he wishes it, retire with

his wife to his own father's, or construct a lodge for his own use. The

hunter brings his game to his door, except when a heavy animal; there

ends his task; the wife skins and cuts it, she dries the skin and cures

the meat. Yet if the husband is a prime hunter, whose time is precious,

the woman herself, or her female relations, go out and seek the game

where it has been killed. When a man dies, his widow wears mourning

during two or four years; the same case happens with the male widower,

only his duties are not so strict as that of a woman; and it often

happens that, after two years, he marries his sister-in-law, if there is

any. The Indians think it a natural thing; they say that a woman will

have more care of her sister's children than of those of a stranger.

Among the better classes of Indians, children are often affianced to

each other, even at the age of a few months. These engagements are

sacred, and never broken.

The Indians in general have very severe laws against murder, and they

are pretty much alike among the tribes; they are divided into two

distinct sections--murder committed in the nation and out of the nation.

When a man commits a murder upon his own people, he runs away from his

tribe, or delivers himself to justice. In this latter case, the nearest

relation of the victim kills him openly, in presence of all the

warriors. In the first case, he is not pursued, but his nearest

relation is answerable for the deed, and suffers the penalty, if by a

given time he has not produced the assassin. The death is

instantaneous, from the blow of a tomahawk. Often the chief will

endeavour to make the parties smoke the pipe of peace; if he succeeds,

all ends here; if not, a victim must be sacrificed. It is a stern law,

which sometimes brings with its execution many great calamities.

Vengeance has often become hereditary, from generation to generation;

murders have succeeded murders, till me of the two families has deserted

the tribe.

It is, no doubt, owing to such circumstances that great families, or

communities of savages bearing the same type and speaking the same

tongue, have been subdivided into so many distinct tribes. Thus it has

been with the Shoshones, whose emigrant families have formed the

Comanches, the Apaches, and the Arrapahoes. The Tonquewas have since

sprung from the Comanches, the Lepans and the Texas from the Apaches,

and the Navahoes from the Arrapahoes. The Texas are now extinct.

Formerly there was a considerable tribe of Indians, by the name of

Texas, who have all disappeared, from continual warfare. Among the

Nadowessies or Dahcotahs, the subdivision has been still greater, the

same original tribe having given birth to the Konsas, the Mandans, the

Tetons, the Yangtongs, Sassitongs, Ollah-Gallahs, the Siones, the Wallah

Wallahs, the Cayuses, the Black-feet, and lastly the Winnebagoes.

The Algonquin species, or family, produced twenty-one different tribes;

the Micmacs, Etchemins, Abenakis, Sokokis, Pawtucket, Pokanokets,

Narragansets, Pequods, Mohegans, Lenilenapes, Nanticokes, Powatans,

Shawnees, Miamis, Illinois, Chippewas, Ottawas, Menomonies, Sacs, Foxes,

and the Kickapoos, which afterwards subdivided again into more than a

hundred nations.

But, to return to the laws of murder:--It often happens that the nephew,

or brother of the murderer, will offer his life in expiation. Very

often these self-sacrifices are accepted, principally among the poorer

families, but the devoted is not put to death, he only loses his

relationship and connection with his former family; he becomes a kind of

slave or bondsman for life in the lodges of the relations of the

murdered.

Sometimes, too, the guilty man's life is saved by a singular and very

ancient law; it, however, happens but rarely. If the murdered leaves a

widow with children, this widow may claim the criminal as her own, and

he becomes her husband nominally, that is to say, he must hunt and

provide for the subsistence of the family.

When the murderer belongs to a hostile tribe, war is immediately

declared; if, on the contrary, he belongs to a friendly nation, the

tribe will wait three or four months till the chiefs of that nation come

to offer excuses and compensation. When they do this, they bring

presents, which they leave at time door of the council lodge, one side

of which is occupied by the relations of the victims, the other by the

chiefs and warriors of the tribe, and the centre by the ambassadors.

One of these opens the ceremony by pronouncing a speech of peace, while

another offers the pipe to the relations. If they refuse it, and the

great chief of the tribe entertains a particular regard for the other

nation, he rises and offers himself to the relations the calumet of

conciliation. If refused still, all the children and babes of the

murdered one's family are called into the lodge, and the pipe passed a

third time in that part of the lodge. Then if a child even two or three

months old touches it, the Indians consider the act as a decision of the

great Master of Life, the pipe goes round, the presents are carried in,

and put at the feet of the plaintiffs. When, on the contrary, the

calumet passes untouched, the murderer's life alone can satisfy the

tribe.

When the chiefs of the tribe of the murderer leave their village to come

and offer excuses, they bring with them the claimed victim, who is well

armed. If he is held in high estimation, and has been a good warrior

and a good man, the chiefs of his tribe are accompanied by a great

number of their own warriors, who paint their faces before entering the

council lodge; some in black with green spots, some all green (the pipe

of peace is always painted green).

The relations of the murdered man stand on one side of the lodge, the

warriors of the other tribe opposite to them. In the centre is the

chief, who is attended by the bearer of the pipe of peace on one side of

him, and the murderer on the other. The chief then makes a speech, and

advances with the pipe-bearer and the murderer towards the relatives of

the deceased; he entreats them, each man separately, to smoke the pipe

which is offered by the pipe-bearer, and when refused, offered to the

next of the relatives.

During this time the murderer, who is well armed, stands by the chief's

side, advancing slowly, with his arrow or his carbine pointed, ready to

fire at any one of the relations who may attempt to take his life before

the pipe has been refused by the whole of them. When such is the case,

if the chiefs want peace, and do not care much for the murderer, they

allow him to be killed without interference; if, on the contrary, they

value him and will not permit his death, they raise the war-whoop, their

warriors defend the murderer's life, and the war between the two tribes

may be said to have commenced.

Most usually, however, the pipe of peace is accepted, in preference to

proceeding to such extremities.

I will now mention the arms and accoutrement of the Shoshone warriors,

observing, at the same time, that my remarks refer equally to the

Apaches, the Arrapahoes, and the Comanches, except that the great skill

of the Shoshones turns the balance in their favour. A Shoshone is

always on horseback, firmly sitting upon a small and light saddle of his

own manufacture, without any stirrups, which indeed they prefer not to

have, the only Indians using them being chiefs and celebrated warriors,

who have them as a mark of distinction, the more so that a saddle and

stirrups are generally trophies obtained in battle from a conquered

enemy.

They have too good a taste to ornament their horses as the Mexicans the

Crows, or the Eastern Indians do; they think that the natural grace and

beauty of the animal are such that any thing gaudy would break its

harmony; the only mark of distinction they put upon their steeds (and

the chiefs only can do so) is a rich feather or two, or three quills of

the eagle, fixed to the rosette of the bridle, below the left ear; and

as a Shoshone treats his horse as a friend, always petting him, cleaning

him, never forcing or abusing him, the animal is always in excellent

condition, and his proud eyes and majestic bearing present to the

beholder the beau ideal of the graceful and the beautiful. The elegant

dress and graceful form of the Shoshone cavalier, harmonises admirably

with the wild and haughty appearance of the animal.

The Shoshone allows his well-combed locks to undulate with the wind,

only pressed to his head by a small metal coronet, to which he fixes

feathers or quills, similar to those put to his horse's rosette. This

coronet is made either of gold or silver, and those who cannot afford to

use these metals make it with swan-down or deer-skin, well prepared and

elegantly embroidered with porcupine-quills; his arms are bare and his

wrists encircled with bracelets of the same material as the coronet; his

body, from the neck to the waist, is covered with a small, soft,

deerskin shirt, fitting him closely without a single wrinkle; from the

waist to the knee he wears a many-folded toga of black, brown, red, or

white woollen or silk stuff, which he procures at Monterey or St.

Francisco, from the Valparaiso and China traders, his leg from the ankle

to the hip is covered by a pair of leggings of deer-skin, dyed red or

black with some vegetable acids, and sewed with human hair, which hangs

flowing, or in tresses, on the outward side; these leggings are fastened

a little above the foot by other metal bracelets, while the foot is

encased in an elegantly finished mocassin, often edged with small

beautiful round crimson shells, no bigger than a pea, and found among

the fossil remains of the country.

Round his waist, and to sustain the toga, he wears a sash, generally

made by the squaws out of the slender filaments of the silk-tree, a

species of the cotton-wood, which is always covered with long threads,

impalpable, though very strong. These are woven together, and richly

dyed. I am sure that in Paris or in London, these scarfs, which are

from twelve to fifteen feet long, would fetch a large sum among the

ladies of the haut ton. I have often had one of them shut up in my hand

so that it was scarcely to be perceived that I had any thing enclosed in

my fist.

Suspended to this scarf, they have the knife on the left side and the

tomahawk on the right. The bow and quiver are suspended across their

shoulders by bands of swan-down three inches broad, while their long

lance, richly carved, and with a bright copper or iron point, is carried

horizontally at the side of the horse. Those who possess a carbine have

it fixed on the left side by a ring and a hook, the butt nearly close to

the sash, and the muzzle protruding a little before the knee.

The younger warriors, who do not possess the carbine, carry in its stead

a small bundle of javelins (the jerrid of the Persians), with which they

are very expert, for I have often seen them, at a distance of ten feet,

bury one more than two feet deep in the flanks of a buffalo. To

complete their offensive weapons, they have the lasso, a leather rope

fifty feet long, and as thick as a woman's little finger, hanging from

the pommel of their saddles; this is a terrible arm, against which there

is but little possibility of contending, even if the adversary possess a

rifle, for the casting of the lasso is done with the rapidity of

thought, and an attempt to turn round and fire would indubitably seal

his fate: the only means to escape the fatal noose is, to raise the

reins of your horse to the top of your head, and hold any thing

diagonally from your body, such as the lance, the carbine, or any thing

except the knife, which you must hold in your sight hand, ready for use.

The chances then are: if the lasso falls above your head, it must slip,

and then it is a lost throw, but if you are quick enough to pass your

knife through the noose, and cut it as it is dragged back, then the

advantage becomes yours, or, at least is equally divided, for then you

may turn upon your enemy, whose bow, lance, and rifle, for the better

management of his lasso, have been left behind, or too firmly tied about

him to be disengaged and used in so short a time. He can only oppose

you with the knife and tomahawk, and if you choose, you may employ your

own lasso; in that case the position is reversed; still the conquest

belongs to the most active of the two.

It often happens, that after having cut the lasso and turned upon his

foe, an Indian, without diminishing the speed of his horse, will pick up

from the ground, where he has dropped it, his rifle or his lance; then,

of course, victory is in his hands. I escaped once from being lassoed

in that way. I was pursued by a Crow Indian; his first throw failed, so

did his second and his third; on the fourth, I cut the rope, and

wheeling round upon him, I gave chase, and shot him through the body

with one of my pistols. The noose at every cast formed such an exact

circle, and fell with such precision, the centre above my head, and the

circumference reaching from the neck to the tail of my horse, that if I

had not thrown away my rifle, lance, bow, and quiver, I should

immediately have been dragged to the ground. All the western Indians

and Mexicans are admirably expert in handling this deadly weapon.

Before the arrival of the Prince Seravalle, the Shoshones had bucklers,

but they soon cast them aside as an incumbrance; the skill which was

wasted upon the proper management of this defensive armour being now

applied to the improved use of the lance. I doubt much, whether, in the

tournaments of the days of chivalry, the gallant knights could show to

their lady-love greater skill than a Shoshone can exhibit when fighting

against an Arrapahoe or a Crow.

[The Crows, our neighbours, who are of the Dacotah race, are also

excellent horsemen, most admirably dressed and fond of show, but they

cannot be compared to the Shoshones; they have not the same skill, and,

moreover, they abuse and change their horses so often that the poor

brutes are never accustomed to their masters.]

But the most wonderful feat of the Shoshone, and also of the Comanche

and Apache, is the facility with which he will hang himself alongside

his horse in a charge upon an enemy, being perfectly invisible to him,

and quite invulnerable, except through the body of his horse. Yet in

that difficult and dangerous position he will use any of his arms with

precision and skill. The way in which they keep their balance is very

simple; they pass their right arm, to the very shoulder, through the

folds of the lasso, which, as I have said, is suspended to the pommel or

round the neck of the horse; for their feet they find a support in the

numerous loops of deer-skin hanging from the saddle; and thus suspended,

the left arm entirely free to handle the bow, and the right one very

nearly so, to draw the arrow, they watch their opportunity, and unless

previously wounded, seldom miss their aim.

I have said that the Shoshones threw away their bucklers at the

instigation of the Prince Seravalle, who also taught them the European

cavalry tactics. They had sense enough to perceive the advantage they

would gain from them, and they were immediately incorporated, as far as

possible, with their own.

The Shoshones now charge in squadrons with the lance, form squares,

wheel with wonderful precision, and execute many difficult manoeuvres;

but as they combine our European tactics with their own Indian mode of

warfare, one of the most singular sights is to witness the disappearance

behind their horses, after the Indian fashion, of a whole body of

perhaps five hundred horse when in full charge. The effect is most

strange; at one moment, you see the horses mounted by gallant fellows,

rushing to the conflict; at a given signal, every man has disappeared,

and the horses, in perfect line appear as if charging, without riders,

and of their own accord, upon the ranks of the enemy.

I have dwelt perhaps too long upon the manners and habits of these

people; I cannot help, however, giving my readers a proof of the

knowledge which the higher classes among them really possess. I have

said that they are good astronomers, and I may add that their intuitive

knowledge of geometry is remarkable. I once asked a young chief what he

considered the height of a lofty pine. It was in the afternoon, about

three o'clock. He walked to the end of the shadow thrown by the

pine-tree, and fixed his arrow in the ground, measured the length of the

arrow, and then the length of the shadow thrown by it; then measuring

the shadow of the pine, he deducted from it in the same proportion as

the difference between the length of the arrow, and the length of its

shadow, and gave me the result. He worked the Rule of Three without

knowing it.

But the most remarkable instance occurred when we were about to cross a

wide and rapid river, and required a rope to be thrown across, as a stay

to the men and horses. The question was, what was the length of the

rope required; i.e., what was the width of the river? An old chief

stepped his horse forward, to solve the problem, and he did it as

follows:--He went down to the side of the river, and fixed upon a spot

as the centre; then he selected two trees, on the right and left, on the

other side, as near as his eye could measure equidistant from where he

stood. Having so done, he backed his horse from the river, until he

came to where his eye told him that he had obtained the point of an

equilateral triangle. Thus, in the diagram, he selected the two trees,

A and B, walked back to E, and there fixed his lance. He then fell back

in the direction E D, until he had, as nearly as he could tell, made the

distance from A E equal to that from E D, and fixed another lance. The

same was repeated to E C, when the last lance was fixed. He then had a

parallelogram; and as the distance from F to E was exactly equal to the

distance from E to G, he had but to measure the space between the bank

of the river and F, and deduct it from E G, and he obtained the width of

the river required.

I do not think that this calculation, which proved to be perfectly

correct, occupied the old chief more than three minutes, and it must be

remembered that it was done in the face of the enemy: but I resume my

own history.

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