proceedings of a secret society. War prophets and medicine men, _waw
keen_, were revered as demi-gods. They were believed to have led
spiritual existences, enclosed in seeds, something like those of the
thistle, which were wafted to the abode of the gods, with whom the _waw
keen_ sustained confidential relations. They received instruction in
the magic of the spirit-land and went out to study all nations; then,
selecting a location, were born into the world.
When, at the proper time, a person signified his desire to join the
priesthood, he was initiated by the Medicine Dance. First, the candidate
must take a hot bath, four days in succession; then he was taught the
uses of medicine and its mysteries by the old men of the society; after
which, he was provided with a dish and spoon. On one side of the dish
was carved the head of some animal, in which lived the spirit of Eeyah,
the Glutton God. The owner always thereafter carried the dish to the
Medicine Dance. He was taught the use of paints and must always appear
in the dance, decorated in the same manner. The paint was supposed to
have supernatural virtue and caused an object to become invisible or
invulnerable. In battle, it was regarded as a life preserver.
Before beginning the dance of initiation, ten or twenty prominent
members spent the night dancing and feasting. In the morning, the tent
was opened. The candidate, painted and nude, with the exception of
breech-cloth and moccasins, was seated on a pile of blankets, an elder
being stationed in the rear. The master of ceremonies, bag in hand,
approached, ejaculating, "_Heen, heen, heen!_" and raising the bag to a
painted spot upon the breast of the novice. Suddenly the latter was
pushed forward and covered with blankets. The dancers collected around
him. The leader, throwing off the covering, chewed a piece of the bone
of O-an-tay'-hee and sprinkled it over him. Dancing around the
candidate, the members patted his breast until he heaved up a shell,
which had been placed in his throat. Life was now fully restored; and
the shell was passed from hand to hand for examination. Ceremonies
closed with more dancing, continued until four sets of singers, with
gourds, drums and rattles, had been exhausted.
War parties were made up by anyone injured. The head of the party was a
great medicine man or prophet, or one distinguished in some way. The
war chief made a dance every three or four nights, before the party
marched. All who chose might join, and anyone was at liberty to return,
should he so desire, after the party started. War paint was red and
black in color, and the dance was executed by men.
Women performed the Scalp Dance, in which scalps, mounted upon poles,
were carried. The Sun Dance was another popular festivity, and has been
said to be the cause of the weak eyes, noticeable among the devotees.
When the Sioux were in a complete state of barbarism, strange as it may
seem, they maintained a high standard of morality. Violation of the code
was invariably followed by complete loss of rights in the tribe. At
certain celebrations, maidens proclaimed their purity by joining in the
dance. Coming in contact with the white race, the Indians first adopted
their vices, then, as civilization advanced and the younger members of
the tribes returned from schools and colleges, they began to emulate
the virtues of their conquerors.
Taking the Degree of Manhood was a savage custom adhered to by the
Dakotas until a recent date. When youths had attained proper age, they
proved a right to the degree by torturing themselves in different ways.
Sometimes a skewer was driven through the arm and heavy articles hung
upon the projecting ends. The flesh was cut and bruised. If an aspirant
bore the pain without flinching, he was deemed worthy of all privileges
accorded to men. These practices have been discontinued by order of the
United States Government.
[Illustration: TA-TON-KA-I-YO-TON-KA.
(Sitting Bull.)]
Travelers in the Sioux country are frequently entertained with recitals
of
INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF TA-TON-KA-I-YO-TON-KA.
Sitting Bull, the famous commander at the Custer massacre, was, during
his prosperous years, the chief of chiefs, or supreme head of the
nation. He first inherited the office, and was able to retain it
because of mental superiority and by reason of the fact that, until the
last hope was gone, he assumed an uncompromising position in regard to
the encroachment of the whites. Then, too, Ta-ton-ka-I-yo-ton-ka was a
medicine man, capable of arousing religious fervor. That he was cruel
toward the enemies of his people cannot be denied; but, according to the
red man's philosophy, that was simple bravery and loyalty.
The authority of a leader was seldom questioned, although a petty chief
was privileged to disregard orders, should he so desire.
Sitting Bull left an autobiography in pictograph. It contained a
description of conflicts in which the hero had counted _coup_ on
numerous enemies, both white and Indian, and secured their scalps. There
were also records of horse-stealing. The signature consisted of the
picture of a buffalo in a sitting posture. Little is known of the early
history of the chief; his own accounts vary; he seemed to be well
educated, and could converse fluently in French and English, as well as
in the different Indian languages.
The Custer massacre took place in 1877. After the Sioux war had ended
and the savages had surrendered, placing themselves under the protection
of the Government, they were retained as prisoners at Fort Randall,
South Dakota. The commandant caused a stockade to be erected, but
Sitting Bull refused to enter it, selecting, in preference, a strip of
bottom land close to the river, for winter quarters, in order that there
might be plenty of fire-wood near at hand. In summer, a pleasant
location about three hundred yards from the garrison, was chosen, where
a guard, composed of one non-commissioned officer and nine men, was
stationed. At that time a majority of the prisoners had not learned
cleanliness, and for the purpose of improving sanitary conditions, the
quarters were inspected daily by the post surgeon and the officer of the
day. Every one was compelled to wash each morning. A soldier asserts
that some of the Indians appeared heart-broken and became sick and
died. Might it not be more just to explain that daily baths in the
river, in a cold climate, were the causes of mortality?
A death was followed by the customary rites. On every hill in the
vicinity of the camp a woman might be seen and heard, mourning and
howling, in the hope that the departed would return to make an
assignment of his effects, which were few, inasmuch as the most valuable
articles had been lowered into the grave. Among them were usually placed
a knife, tin cup, moccasins, blanket and piece of buckskin. The ancient
rule of laying the dead upon a scaffold was not permitted to be put into
practice.
Burials took place in the day, and at night grand dances were held.
Indians on the opposite side of the river were invited to participate.
Tin cans, which had been collected and taken to the tepees, served as
musical instruments. The noise and confusion were sometimes deafening,
dances being kept up almost continuously. Both men and women spent much
time in making arrow tips from old iron hoops.
While at Fort Randall, Sitting Bull received an order from the
quartermaster for three sacks of hay. Accompanied by a slave wife and a
favorite, he presented the order. The large army bed sacks were calmly
handed to the man in charge, who refused to fill them, telling the
Indian to attend to that himself. The Sioux then turned to the slave
wife, commanding her to perform the menial office. She did so with most
abject humility, tying the bundle with a piece of rawhide; then the poor
creature crawled beneath the huge mass, pushing her head under it first
and gradually forcing the burden upon her back. This accomplished, she
rose slowly upon hands and knees and at last regained her feet. Being
asked, indignantly, why he did not assist the woman, the great chief
answered with an expressive grunt.
An army officer, Major McLaughlin, secured several autographs of the
celebrated leader, but found it impossible to induce him to sit for a
photograph, until he had obtained twenty-five dollars and a white shirt.
The shirt proved too small, but the chief fastened it at the back of the
neck with a buckskin string. Despite these weaknesses, he was dignified
in behavior and apparently unmoved by curiosity, although the room of
the officer contained many objects new and strange to him.
During a severe storm, lightning struck a tree near the Indian camp,
forty or fifty yards from the tent of Ta-ton-ka-I-yo-ton-ka. He
immediately broke camp and removed to summer quarters, saying the evil
spirit was after his people. Nothing could convince him that the Great
Spirit was not angry with him for leaving Canada, when he crossed to the
American side and surrendered, after the Custer massacre, at the Little
Big Horn. He said that all the water in the Missouri River could not
wash out the white man's stains of crime.
Spotted Tail and Red Cloud were also dangerous to the peace of the
northwestern country. Spotted Tail had two attractive daughters, one of
whom died on the way to Fort Laramie, while the Indians were going in to
surrender. Thomas Dorion, the man who went out as a messenger of peace,
desired to marry the girl and she expressed a willingness to become his
wife. It was largely due to her influence with her father, that he and
Red Cloud consented to accompany the emissary to Fort Laramie to hold
council and make a treaty. Her sad life and premature death, which was,
no doubt, the result of exposure and the vicissitudes of war, aroused
great sympathy. The other daughter, Water Carrier, was much admired by
the army officers and received many valuable presents. One of her
relatives asserts that the officers seemed infatuated, but that she
never manifested any reciprocity. Water Carrier was deeply attached to
her father's people and became the wife of Lone Elk. They live at the
Rosebud Agency, South Dakota.
The Sioux, like all tribes, are rapidly discarding their ancient
beliefs. Government schools have done effective work; and while the
number of "squaw men," or those who marry into the nation, is less than
in the tribes of the Indian Territory, there is yet a liberal infusion
of white blood. The dances, in a revised form, are, of recent years,
indulged in by way of recreation or for the amusement of spectators.
[Illustration]
IV.
THE KAWS AND OSAGES.
The Dakotas were strongly represented in the Kaw Valley and vicinity by
the Kansas or Kaw Indians and the Osages. In some respects there was a
similarity of manners and customs between these branches and the
original stock, in others a radical difference was noted.
The practice of shaving all of the head except a small place around the
crown--the scalp lock, which was reserved for the enemy, should he be
able to secure it--was adhered to by the Kaws and the Osages, while the
old Sioux law seems to have sanctioned scalping the entire head.
However, when compelled to hurry, they took a small section from any
part of the head. For the purpose of decorating themselves, many of the
Kansas cut the upper and outer edge of each ear, drawing it down so as
to form a large ring, reaching to the shoulder. To this circle
ornaments were attached. The tribe retained savage proclivities long
after their neighbors had become partially or altogether reconciled to
the habits of the pale-face; and were tall of stature and physically
well developed, but decidedly inferior in mind and morals, being a
constant source of annoyance to both the white citizens and more
civilized Indians.
One day a golden-haired girl stood by the side of her father, at the
door of their home in Kansas City, Kansas, (then Wyandotte) when a
number of Kaws filed through the gate and up to the house. Their chief,
through an interpreter, formally tendered a horse and several fine
blankets in exchange for the "squaw with the hair like the rising sun."
Receiving an indignant refusal, he emitted a disappointed "Ugh! ugh!"
and turning slowly, rode down the street with his warriors.
A lady who resided at Westport when it was a hamlet of not more than
eight or ten houses, was surprised, on entering her kitchen one morning,
to see, standing before the stove warming himself, a huge Kaw, entirely
nude save for the blanket extended across his outspread arms. Almost in
terror, the woman gasped out, "_Puck-a-chee! puck-a-chee!_" (go away).
Deliberately, and with evident amusement at her fright, the savage took
his departure.
The main village of the Kaws, that of American Chief, was situated two
miles east of Manhattan, Kansas. It was composed of one hundred and
twenty dirt lodges, of good size. A large portion of the tribe was
located, with Fool Chief, on the north bank of the Kansas River, in and
near Topeka. Later, by a treaty with the United States, this land, with
the exception of a few hundred acres reserved and divided among those in
whom white blood predominated, was ceded to the Government. The majority
of the people removed, first, to Council Grove, and then to the Indian
Territory.
[Illustration: WA-HON-GA-SHEE.
(No Fool.)]
They delighted, for many years, to talk of
THE VICTORY WHICH MADE WA-HON-GA-SHEE A FAMOUS CHIEF.
There had been frequent, hard-fought battles with the Pawnees, who,
being superior in numbers, had usually obtained the victory. However,
the Great Spirit punished them when, at last, a small band was
discovered, just at nightfall, by a strong party of Kaws.
Revenge, always sweet to the barbarian, was now assured. Surrounding the
foe under cover of darkness, the Kaws, commanded by Wa-hon-ga-shee (No
Fool), waited patiently for daylight.
Twenty-four hours before going on the war-path a council had been held
in the celebrated grove from which the present city takes its name, and
every warrior who had joined the preliminary dance, had fasted from that
time until the moment of departure. Their leader, together with the
medicine men, had long abstained from food, in anticipation of the
event. Other matters having been arranged, the line of men rode out
of the village, carrying many an anxious good-speed from wives and
mothers. Children, half-clothed, huddled together in awe-stricken
groups, or sought maternal protection. Old men and maidens gazed with
hopeful pride on sons and sweethearts.
Over the plains passed the braves, almost from view, when, by some
mischance, their chief slipped and fell. Quickly recognizing an
unfavorable omen, he gave the signal for return, and the entire
community joined in incantations to dispel future disaster. Again the
war party went forth, coming upon the Pawnees, who, all unconscious of
approaching danger, lay encamped for the night. Guards had been
stationed at proper intervals, and the ponies corralled, in order that
they might not wander away.
All seemed quiet until near morning. Faintly the sounds of awakening
Nature broke the silence of the prairie. The Kaws began to close in upon
the enemy, crawling stealthily through the grass. Gray dawn appeared;
then a red streak became visible in the east. The assailants rose with
a terrible war-whoop and rushed upon their sleeping victims. Even the
guards were surprised. Reports of rifles and fierce shouts from
infuriated men mingled with the shrieks of the wounded and dying. Knives
struck pitilessly into the breasts of the Pawnees, who, stupefied by the
sudden attack, were easily overcome. Blood flowed freely. Deftly a small
circle was described upon the head of each one, the scalp torn off, and
the reeking trophy attached to the belt of the slayer. Then, when
destruction was complete, and death had swept the camp, leaving not a
member of the little band alive, the victors gathered up the spoils and
journeyed home in triumph. Ninety dead bodies, mutilated examples of the
effects of savage warfare, were scattered over the field of battle.
Now, preparations for the dance were in progress. Musicians brought
forth flutes and tom-toms--rude drums made from powder kegs with
raw-hides stretched over the ends--while the women busied themselves in
making ready and cooking meat and cereals for the feast.
The warriors, in a circle, commenced the celebration with low
ejaculations and slow movements not unlike a march, gradually increasing
speed, and changing step until it became a wild rush of many feet,
accompanied by howls of exultation. Then all was still for a moment, and
two beautiful girls, dressed in almost Oriental costume, and carrying
red fringed umbrellas, broke into the center of the ring and danced with
the utmost grace and abandon. Next followed the process of paying debts.
It was the custom for creditors to allow debtors the privilege of paying
off old scores, at a dance of triumph, by standing in the center of the
circle and submitting to sound beatings, at one dollar a blow.
An old squaw had tried in vain to collect the sum of twelve dollars from
a young man. Desiring to end her importunities for money, he advanced
and stood, the object of all eyes, in stoical forbearance, while she
administered, to the full extent of her power, the requisite amount of
punishment.
As usual, the Kaws had buried their most valuable goods previous to
undertaking the foregoing expedition. First, a large cavity had been
made in the ground and the articles placed inside. These were covered
with sticks and branches, earth being piled on top and stamped down. In
a violent effort to bestow the last blow effectively, the old woman
caused this structure to give way and sank into the chasm, to the great
diversion of spectators--for the Indians, among themselves, on such a
day, were prone to cast dignity to the winds.
Frequently, Osages and Kaws were employed to perform special police
duty. It gave them a sense of responsibility that had a tendency to
prevent mischief. Even in this capacity, they were governed by
superstition. At night, when ready to give place to another watchman,
each brave, before going home, went to the fire, gathered a handful of
ashes and rubbed it on his head to keep away the witches.
Death was mourned, not only by relatives, but by professionals, hired
for a period of two weeks. Pasting the hair on top of the head with mud,
they united in a series of groans and wails, dismal beyond description.
These strange songs had words, probably recounting the virtues and
wonderful deeds of the dead. Wrapped in his blanket and provided with
food and drink, trinkets and valuables, with all that he considered most
desirable, the warrior was lowered to his last resting-place, a favorite
horse having been killed that the spirit might ride to the Happy Hunting
Grounds.
The Osages were once the most powerful people west of the Mississippi
River. They owned a vast territory and had remained in possession over
three hundred years; but were forced eventually to cede the greater
portion to the Government. Nevertheless they are the wealthiest of the
Indians. The tribe was divided originally into three bands, the Little
Osages, the Grand and the Black Dog Band. They were tall and
fine-looking, the young, able-bodied men being hunters and warriors,
while the old men were doctors and cooks. Upon entering a village, a
stranger was expected to present himself first at the lodge of the
chief, and there partake of food. A general feast followed. The cook
stood outside and called, in a loud voice:
"Come and eat. White Hair (or whomsoever it might be) gives a feast."
When traveling, the Osages made lodges in the shape of wagon-tops, of
bent trees covered with skins or blankets.
A native orator, speaking of the good qualities of his people, said:
"Are we brave and valiant? Behold Dakota scalps drying in the smoke of
our cabins. Are we strong? Here is the bow of an Osage boy--bend it. Are
our women beautiful? Look at them and be convinced."
Despite the fact that civilization has penetrated even remote portions
of the United States, and its effects are felt in a greater or less
degree by every savage nation, the Osages in the Indian Territory have
returned to many of the old barbarous customs. They had a unique
creation story. Old people used to talk of a man, the first of the race,
who came out of a shell. They said:
"The father of our nation was a snail, who passed a quiet, happy
existence on the banks of our own river. His wants were few and well
supplied. He seldom hunted, going out only when driven by hunger to seek
food, and taking whatever could be most easily obtained. Thus lived our
great forefather, the snail."
According to the tradition, there was a storm and the river burst over
its banks and swept everything before it. The snail, seated on a log,
was carried along down the stream and deposited at last upon a bed of
slime. He was contented and had enjoyed the travel, since it had
required no exertion. Now, he found himself in a strange country. It was
very warm and the sun came out and baked the earth in which he was
embedded. It was impossible to move. Then, feeling a change, he began
to grow and developed into a man, tall, strong and perfect. At first,
the new being was stupefied; but with returning memory, he realized that
he had once been a snail, and immediately set out for his former home.
Arrived on the banks of the Osage River, he became faint from hunger.
Game was plenty, but he knew not how to catch it. There were birds and
fish, but no means of reaching them. He lay down to die. A soft voice
broke the silence. The man looked up and saw, mounted on a noble,
snow-white animal, a being like nothing seen on earth. It was tall and
mighty, having eyes like stars. The Osage trembled. The gentle voice
said:
"Why does he who is the kernel of the snail look terrified? Why is he
faint and weary?"
"I tremble because I fear thy power and quail before the lightning of
thine eye. I am faint because I lack food."
Then said the Great Spirit: "Be composed. The Master of Breath punishes
not till sin is committed. Thou hast not sinned; be calm. But art thou
hungry?"
"I have eaten nothing since I ceased to be a snail."
The Great Spirit drew from under his robe a bow and arrows, and taught
the man to shoot. He killed a deer and was told to cover himself with
its skin. The Great Spirit made fire and told him to use it for cooking
the meat.
One day, when hunting, the man went to a river to drink, and saw, in the
water, a beaver hut, on which the chief of the family was sitting. The
animal asked who he was and what he was looking for; and was informed
that the Osage had no home and came to the river to quench his thirst.
The beaver said:
"You seem to be a reasonable man. You may come and live with me. My
family is large and there are many daughters. Should any of them be
pleasing in your sight, you may marry." The Indian accepted the offer
and married one of the beaver's daughters. They had many children, from
whom the Osage people are descended. To this day, the members of the
tribe refrain from killing the beaver, which is regarded as sacred.
[Illustration]
V.
THE DELAWARES.
The Delaware Indians, or Lenape, as they called themselves, are of
Algonquin lineage. Their language, which is soft and musical, bears a
strong resemblance to that of the Shawnees and Pottawatomies, who are
descended from the same people. The word Lenape has been translated
"men" or "fathers of men." This bears some significance, since the early
traditions of the Delawares declare them to be the parent stock. They
were the natives with whom William Penn held council, on the ground
occupied at the present time by the city of Philadelphia.
The nation had been subjugated by the Iroquois, and bearing the name of
"women" was at peace with the world. Although the domination of the
other tribes was only temporary, the famous treaty with the Quakers was
never broken, during the subsequent years of warfare.