By L. W. Payne, Jr.
This legend was contributed by a University of Texas student named W.
A. Darter, from Hardeman County, a number of years ago. He says that
though some of the details are “made up” the main incidents are based
on legendary material current in the country of the Mounds.
The Medicine Mounds, as they are called today, are located in Hardeman
County, about nine miles southeast of Quanah. They are four in number
and extend north and south in a direct line. The tallest one stands to
the north two thousand feet above the surrounding country. The lowest
one stands to the south of the other three, fifteen hundred feet lower
than the tallest one. The other two are of such heights that if a line
were determined by their peaks, it would pass through the top points of
the two extreme ones. To the west of these mounds, running almost north
and south, is a deep-worn trail said by the old settlers to have been a
buffalo trail. About these mounds and about this trail especially are
to be found today many flint arrow-heads that the Indians let fly at
the buffaloes as they passed back and forth on these hills.
On the top of the tallest mound, there is a great, flat, over-hanging
rock. This rock, the Indians used to say, was the dwelling place of a
good spirit. From this position one can see the surrounding country for
miles and miles; and it was on this account that the good spirit took
up its abode there. While the red man was in search of game, the good
spirit would direct his arrows straight toward the mark; and while he
was on the war path, this good spirit would also help him to defeat his
enemies.
Now, during early days, a tribe of Indians were roaming over this rich
country, killing big game with their arrows and big fish with their
spears. And in this tribe, as in every tribe, was a medicine man. This
medicine man had a beautiful daughter who had been asked to become the
first squaw of the brave young chief. But she was sick with a fever,
and she became worse as time passed on. Her father had done all he
could for her. He had driven away all the evil spirits that, by his
many devices, he could drive away, and at the same time he had brought
in all the good spirits that he could in order that they might help
her; but his beautiful daughter only grew worse. He had mixed his
different medicines in every way that he could think of, but all in
vain. At last he despaired of saving her. He went outside of the little
wigwam, squatted down, and prayed to the good spirit that dwelt upon
the high rock.
Instantly almost, the expression of his face changed from gloom to
hope. The idea had come to him that if he would but mix his medicine on
the rock, the remedy would in some way receive the power of the good
spirit. He returned for one more glance at his daughter, and then,
pulling his bright-colored blanket about him, left for the high rock.
It was not long before he returned. He found his daughter resting well.
He felt her face; it was not so hot as it had been when he left. He
stopped and looked. Had he lost her? Then he thought of the good spirit
and the medicine. It was his last hope. He gave it.
Outside the wigwam, the medicine man once more drew his blanket tightly
about him and squatted down. He prayed for many hours—he knew not how
many. It was nearing evening when he heard a faint voice calling him by
name; it was the voice of his daughter. He rose as if he had been on
springs; and in two steps, he was by her side. The fever had left her
while he was away, and she had simply fallen into a deep sleep. The
good spirit had saved her.
From this time on, the medicine man did not forget the good spirit on
the high rock; and it is said that every year thereafter he went
regularly to these mounds in order to instil some of this good spirit
into his medicine. From this habit of the medicine man, these hills
have been called the Medicine Mounds.