THE PASSING BUFFALO
I
It was summertime in the mountains--that short, passionate burst of
warm life between the long seasons of the snow. The world lay panting
in the white light of the sun, over gorge and pine-clad hill floated
streamers of haze, and along the ground slanted thin, blue shadows.
The sky pulsed in ether waves and the distant peaks, azure also, with
traceries of silver, were as dim as the memory of a dream. In this
untrodden wilderness the passing years have left no record save in the
gradual growth of forest trees, and in its rugged beauty it is the
same as a century ago. Therefore time itself seems arrested, and it is
scarcely strange to come upon a buffalo skull naked and bleached by sun
and rain, and close by, half hidden in the loose rocks, an arrow head of
pure, black obsidian.
This, then, was once the scene of a brave chase when wind-swift Indians
pursued mad, hurtling herds over mountain slope and plain. These empty
fastnesses thrilled to the shock of thousands of beating hoofs, these
hills flung back the echo to the brooding silence as the black tide
flowed on, pressed by deadly huntsmen armed with barb and bow. And even
then, far over the horizon, unseen by hunted and hunters, silent as the
shadow of a cloud, inevitable as destiny, came the White Race, moving
swifter than either one, driving them unawares toward the great abyss
where they should vanish forever into the Happy Hunting Ground, lighted
by perpetual Summer and peopled by immortal herds and tribes.
II
In such a remote and deserted place as this, no great effort of the
imagination is needed to call up the shades of those who once inhabited
it, to react their part in the tragedy of progress. Let us fancy that a
riper, richer glow is upon the mountains, that the white light of the
sun has deepened into an amber flood which quivers between the arch of
lapis-lazuli sky and the warm, balsam-scented earth that sighs forth
the life of the woods. Already the trees not of the evergreen kind are
hung with bewilderingly gorgeous leaves of scarlet, russet-brown and
yellowing green; the haze has grown denser and its ghostly presence
insinuates itself among the very needles of the pines. It is Autumn.
The gush of life has reached its climax and is ebbing. High on the
steepled mountains is a wreath of filmy white that trails low in the
ravines. It seems as fragile as a bridal veil, but it is the foreword
of Winter which will soon descend with driving blast and piping gale,
lancing sleet and enshrouding snow to chill the last red ember-glow of
the brilliant autumnal days. It was at this time that the Indian's blood
ran hot with longing for the hunt. Lodges were abandoned and only those
too weak to stand the hardship of the march were left behind. Chiefs
and braves, women and children struck out for the haunts of the buffalo
where the fat herds grazed before the impending cold.
These children of the forest sought their prey with the woodcraft handed
down from old to young through unnumbered generations. Indeed, it was
necessary for them to outwit the game by strategy in the early days
before the wealthy and progressive Nez Percé Kayuses, who were first to
break the wild horses of the western plains, brought the domesticated
pony among them. In passing, it is interesting to know that the term
"cayuse" applied to all Indian horses, had its origin with this tribe,
since the chief article of trade of the Kayuses was the horse, the
horse of Indian commerce became known as a "cayuse." The Selish used
the method of the stockade. After the march into the buffalo country,
they camped in a spot where they could easily fashion an enclosed park
by means of barricades built among the trees. A great council of the
chiefs and warriors was held and this august body appointed a company
of braves to guard the camp and prevent any person from leaving its
boundaries lest in so doing the wily buffalo should become alarmed and
quit the neighbouring hills. The council proclaimed anew the ancient
laws of the chase, and then began the building of the pen. This was a
kind of communal work in which the entire tribe engaged, and as all
contributed labor so all should benefit alike from its fruits. There
within the mock park, whose pleasant green fringe of trees was in
reality a prison wall, would be trapped and killed the food for the
sterile winter months, when, but for that bounty, starvation would stalk
gaunt among them and lay the strongest warrior as low as a new born
babe or the feebly old who totter on the threshold of death. The place
chosen for the pen was a level glade and the enclosure was built with
a single opening facing a cleft in the surrounding hills. From this
opening, an avenue also cunningly fenced and gradually widening towards
the hills, was constructed, so that the animals driven thither, could
escape neither to the right nor the left, but must needs plunge into the
imprisoning park.
Next came the election of the Master of Ceremonies, the Lord of the
Pen. He was a man seasoned with experience, mighty with the knowledge
of occult things--one of the _Wah-Kon_, Medicine Men or jugglers, who
possessed the power of communicating with the Great Spirit. This high
functionary determined the crucial moment when the hunt should begin,
and when the buffalo, roused from the inertia of grazing, should be
driven into the snare. In the center of the clearing he posted the
"medicine-mast," made potent by three charms, "a streamer of scarlet
cloth two or three yards long, a piece of tobacco and a buffalo horn,"
which were supposed to entice the animals to their doom. It was he who,
in the early dawn, aroused the sleeping camp with the beating of his
drum and the chanting of incantations; who conferred with the great
Manitous of the buffalo to divine when the time for the chase had come.
Under the Grand Master were four swift runners who penetrated into the
surrounding country to find where the buffalo were browsing and to
assist by material observation the promptings of the spirits of the
hunt. They were provided by the Grand Master with a _Wah-Kon_ ball of
skin stuffed with hair, and when the herds were found in a favourable
spot and the wind blew from the direction of the animals to the pen, one
of the runners, breathless with haste, bearing in his hand the magic
ball, appeared before the Grand Master and proclaimed the joyful news.
There was a mighty beating of the Grand Master's drum, and out of the
lodges ran the excited people, all bent with concentrated energy upon
the approaching sport. Every horseman mounted, and those less fortunate
armed themselves and took their positions in two lines extending from
the entrance to the enclosure toward the open, separating more widely as
the distance from the pen increased, thus forming a V shape with but a
narrow gateway where the lines converged.
Then through the silent, human barricade rode the bravest of the braves,
astride the fleetest horse and he went unarmed, always against the wind,
enveloped in a buffalo skin which hung down over his mount. All was
quiet. Only the light Autumn wind flowing through the trees carried the
curious, crisp, cropping noise of thousands of iron-strong jaws tearing
the lush, green grass. And as the rider came upon the crest of the hill
and looked at the panorama of waving verdure peopled by multitudes of
bison stretching far away across the meadows and over the rolling ground
beyond, it must have been a sight to quicken the pulses and stir the
blood. Suddenly there sounded a prolonged and distressing cry--the cry
of a buffalo calf which wailed shrilly for a moment, then ceased. It
came from the brave alone in the open, shrouded in the buffalo hide.
There was a movement in the herd. Every heavily maned head rose, and
quivering nostrils snuffed the running wind. At first the buffalo
advanced slowly, as if in doubt; gradually their pace quickened to a
trot, a gallop, then lo! the whole vast band came hurtling and lurching
in its furious career like the swells of a tempestuous, black sea,
breaking into angry waves at every shock. And from those deep throats
came a mighty roar, ponderous and resonant as the thunder of the surf.
Still the cry of the calf reverberated and re-echoed, and the single
horseman crouching beneath his masquerade, led the herd on and on,
eluding their onslaught, luring them forward between the lines of his
companions who stood silent, trembling with eagerness for the sport.
Then pell-mell the mounted hunters rushed out from cover and the wide
extremes of the V shaped line closed in so that the horsemen were behind
the herd. This done, the wind blowing toward the corral, took the scent
of the Indians to the buffalo. Pandemonium reigned. Men, women and
children on foot, leaped out from their hiding places with demoniac
yells, brandishing spears, hurling stones and shooting arrows from
their bows. The stampeded animals, surrounded save for the one loophole
ahead, plunged into the pen. The chase was over and the slaughter began.
The tribe would live well that Winter-time!
* * * * *
Among the Omawhaws of the first part of the last century, the hunt
was preceded by much preparation and ceremony. Generally by the month
of June their stores of jerked buffalo meat were well-nigh exhausted,
and the little crops of maize, pumpkins, beans and water-melons, with
the yield of the small hunting parties pursuing beaver, otter, elk,
deer and other game, were scarcely sufficient to fill the wants of
the tribe. So, after the harvesting and trading were done, the chiefs
called a council and ordered a feast to be held in the lodge of one of
the most distinguished of their number, to which all hunters, warriors
and chiefs should be invited. Accordingly the squaws of the chosen host
were commanded by him to make ready the choicest maize and the plumpest
dog for the ceremonial board. When all was in readiness the host called
two or three venerable criers to his lodge. He smoked the calumet with
them, then whispered that they should go through the village proclaiming
the feast and bidding the guests whom he named. He instructed the
criers to "speak in a loud voice and tell them to bring their bowls and
spoons." They sallied forth singing among the lodges, calling to the
distinguished personages to come to the banquet. After these summons
the criers went back to the lodge of the host, quickly followed by the
guests who were seated according to their rank. The ceremony of smoking
was performed first, then the Head Chief arose, thanked his braves for
coming and explained to them the object of the assembly, which was the
selection of a hunting ground and the appointment of a time to start.
After him the others spoke, each giving his opinion frankly, but always
careful to be respectful of the opinions of others.
Neither squaws nor children were suffered to be present. The criers
tended the kettle and when the speech-making was done, one dipped out
a ladle of soup, held it toward the North, South, East and West, and
cast it into the ashes of the fire. He also flung a bit of the best
part of the meat into the flame as a sacrifice to _Wahconda_, the Great
Spirit. The guests then received their portions, the excellence of which
depended upon their rank. The feast closed as it began, with the smoking
of the calumet and at its conclusion the criers went forth again,
chanting loud songs in praise of the generosity of the host, enumerating
the chiefs and warriors who partook of his bounty, finally proclaiming
the decision of the council and announcing the time and place of the
hunt. This was an occasion of great rejoicing. The squaws at once began
to mend the clothing and the weapons of their lords and pack their
goods; and the young braves, gay with paint and bright raiment, beguiled
the hours with gaming and dancing in the presence of the chiefs.
When the day of the journey arrived the whole community departed,
the chiefs and wealthy warriors on horseback, the poorer folk afoot.
Sometimes the quest of the buffalo was prolonged over weary weeks, and a
meager diet of _Pomme blanche_ or ground-apple, was insufficient to stay
the pangs of hunger that assailed the tribe. The hunters preceded the
main body, carefully reconnoitering the country for bison or foes. When
at length herds were discovered, the hunters threw up their robes as a
signal, the tribe halted and the advance party returned to report. They
were received with pomp and dignity by the chiefs and medicine men who
sat before the people solemnly smoking and offering articulate thanks to
_Wahconda_. In a low voice the hunters informed the dignitaries of the
presence of buffalo. These mighty personages, in turn, questioned the
huntsmen as to the numbers and respective distances of the herds, and
they replied by illustrating with small sticks the relative positions of
the bands.
An old man of high standing then addressed the people, telling them that
the coveted game at length was nigh, and that on the morrow they would
be rewarded for the long fast and fatigue.
That night a council was held and a corps of stout warriors elected to
keep order. These officers painted themselves black, wore the _crow_ and
were armed with war-clubs in order that they might enforce the mandates
of the council and preserve due decorum among the excited tribe folk.
Early in the morning the hunters on horseback, carrying only bows and
arrows and the warriors provided with war-clubs, led by the pipe-bearer
who bore the sacred calumet, advanced on foot. Once in view of the
splendid, living masses covering the green plains as with a giant sable
robe, they halted for the pipe-bearer, the representative of the Magi,
to perform the propitiatory rite of smoking. He lighted his calumet of
red, baked clay, bowed his head in silence, then held the stem in the
direction of the herds. After this he smoked, exhaling the aromatic
clouds towards the buffalo, the heavens, the earth and the four points
of the compass, called by them the "sunrise, sunset, cold country and
warm country," or by the collective term of the "four winds." At the
completion of this ceremony the head chief gave the signal and the
huntsmen charged upon their prey.
From this point their methods were somewhat the same as those of the
Selish, except that instead of building a stockade, they, themselves,
enclosed the herd in a living circle, pressing closer and closer upon
it until the killing was complete. This surrounding hunt was called
_Ta-wan-a-sa_.
The chase was the grand event, the test of horsemanship, of archery, of
fine game-craft and often the opportunity for glory on the war-path as
well--for where the buffalo abounded there lurked the hidden enemy, also
seeking the coveted herds, and an encounter meant battle to the death.
Both ponies and hunters were trained to the ultimate perfection of skill
and the favoured buffalo horse served no other purpose than to bear
his master in the chase. As the cavalcade descended upon the startled
game, the rider caressed his faithful steed, called him "father,"
"brother," "uncle," conjured him not to fear the angry beasts yet not
to be too bold lest he be hurt by goring horns and stamping hoofs, and
urged him with honeyed speech to the full fruit of his strength and
cunning. And the horse, responding, flew with wingéd stride, unguided
by reins to the edge of the compact, fleeing band, never hesitating,
never halting until the shoulder of the animal pursued, was exposed to
the death-dealing shot. It was just behind the shoulder blade that the
huntsman sought to strike. The inclination of his body in one direction
or another was sufficient to send the horse speeding after fresh prey.
The hunters, themselves, scorned danger and knew not fear. If they were
uncertain how deep the arrow had penetrated they rode close to the
infuriated brute to examine the nature of the shot, and if necessary
to shoot again. And even though in the grand _melée_, a single animal
was often pierced with many arrows, there were seldom quarrels as to
whom the quarry belonged, so nicely could they reckon the value of the
different shots and determine which had dealt the most speedy death.
Onward and onward they sped, circling and advancing at once, like a
whirlwind on the face of the prairie. At length, the darting riders
were seen more and more vividly as they compressed their line about the
routed band, until finally, only a heap of carcasses lay where the herd
had been. Then the tribe came upon the scene. The squaws cut and packed
the meat. If a hunter were unfortunate and killed no game, he helped
dissect the buffalo of a lucky rival. On completion of his task he stuck
his knife in the portion of the meat he desired and it was given to him
as compensation for his labor.
Someone, either by order of the chief or of his own free will, presented
his kill to the Medicine for a feast. There was great revelry and joy,
dancing and eating of marrow bones, to celebrate the aftermath of the
royal sport.
III
Although the meat of the buffalo was the Indians' chief article of
food, this was by no means the only bond between the red man and
the aboriginal herds of the plains. Besides the almost innumerable
utilitarian purposes for which the different parts of the animals were
used, there was scarcely a phase of life or a ceremony in which they
did not figure. In the dance, a rite of the first importance, in the
practice of the _Wah-Kon_, or medicine, in the legends of the creation
and the after-death, the buffalo had his place. Such lore might make a
quaint and curious volume, but we shall consider only the more striking
uses and traditions of the bison in their relation to the life of the
early West.
The buffalo was, in truth, the great political factor among the tribes;
nearly all of the bitter warfare between nation and nation was for no
other purpose than to maintain or gain the right to hunt in favourable
fields. Thus the Judith Basin, the region of the Musselshell and many
other haunts of the herds, became also battle fields of bloodshed and
death. Not only did the bison cause hostilities among the nations, but
they were likewise the reason of internal strife. It is said that the
Assiniboines, or Sioux of the Mountains, separated from the main body of
the tribe on account of a dispute between the wives of two rival chiefs,
each of whom persisted in having for her portion the entire heart of a
fine bison slain in the chase. This was the beginning of a feud which
split the nation into independent, antagonistic tribes.
The utmost economy was generally observed by the early Indians in the
use of the buffalo. Each part of the animal served some particular
purpose. The tongue, the hump and the marrow bones of the thighs were
considered the greatest delicacies. The animals killed for meat were
almost always cows, for the flesh of buffalo bulls could be eaten only
during the months of May and June.
Among the Omawhaws of nearly two centuries ago, all the meat save the
hump and chosen parts reserved for immediate use, was cut into "large,
thin slices" and either dried by the heat of the sun or "jerked over
a slow fire on a low scaffold." After being thoroughly cured it was
compressed into "quadrangular packages" of a convenient size to carry on
a pack saddle. The small intestines were carefully cleaned and turned
inside out to preserve the outer coating of fat, then dried and woven
into a kind of mat. These mats were packed into parcels of the same
shape and size as the meat. Even the muscular coating of the stomach was
preserved. The large intestines were stuffed with flesh and used without
delay. The vertebrae were pulverized with a stone axe after which the
crushed bone was boiled. The very rich grease that arose to the surface
was skimmed and preserved in bladders for future use. The stomach and
bladder were filled with this and other sorts of fat, or converted into
water bottles. All of the cured meat was _cached_, in French-Canadian
phrase, until hunger drove the Indians to draw upon these stores.
The pemmican of song and history was a kind of hash made by toasting
buffalo meat, then pulverizing it to a fine consistency with a stone
hammer. Mr. James Mooney in the _Fourteenth Annual Report of the Bureau
of Ethnology_, describes the process as follows; "In the old times a
hole was dug in the ground and a buffalo hide was staked over so as to
form a skin dish, into which the meat was thrown to be pounded. The hide
was that from the neck of the buffalo, the toughest part of the skin,
the same used for shields, and the only part which would stand the wear
and tear of the hammers. In the meantime the marrow bones are split
up and boiled in water until all the grease and oil comes to the top,
when it is skimmed off and poured over the pounded beef. As soon as the
mixture cools, it is sewed up into skin bags (not the ordinary painted
parfléche cases) and laid away until needed. It was sometimes buried or
otherwise cached. Pemmican thus prepared will keep indefinitely. When
prepared for immediate use, it is usually sweetened with sugar, mesquite
pods, or some wild fruit mixed and beaten up with it in the pounding.
It is extremely nourishing, and has a very agreeable taste to one
accustomed to it. On the march it was to the prairie Indian what parched
corn was to the hunter of the timber tribes, and has been found so
valuable as a condensed nutriment that it is extensively used by arctic
travellers and explorers. A similar preparation is used upon the pampas
of South America and in the desert region of South Africa, while the
canned beef of commerce is an adaptation from the Indian idea. The name
comes from the Cree language, and indicates something mixed with grease
or fat. (Lacombe.)"
Among the Sioux at Pine Ridge and Rosebud, in the ceremony of the Ghost
Dance, pemmican was celebrated in the sacred songs. Mr. Mooney gives the
translation of one of them:
_"Give me my knife,_
_Give me my knife,_
_I shall hang up the meat to dry--Ye'ye'!_
_I shall hang up the meat to dry--Ye'ye'!_
_Says grandmother--Yo'yo'!_
_Says grandmother--Yo'yo'!_
_When it is dry I shall make pemmican,_
_When it is dry I shall make pemmican,_
_Says grandmother--Yo'yo'!_
_Says grandmother--Yo'yo'!"_
* * * * *
Though at first the main object for which the buffalo was hunted was the
flesh, next in importance and afterwards foremost, was the hide made
into the buffalo robe of commerce. Since these robes played such an
important part in the early traffic and were partly responsible for the
annihilation of the bison, it is worth while to consider how they were
procured and treated. The skins to be dressed were taken in the early
Spring while the fur was long, thick and luxuriant. Those obtained in
the Autumn called "Summer skins" were used only in the making of lodges,
clothing, and for other domestic purposes. To the squaws was assigned
the preparation of the hides as well as the cutting and curing of the
meat. Immediately after the hunt while in the "green" state the skins
were stretched and dried. After this, they were taken to the village and
subjected to a process of curing which was carried on during the leisure
of the women. The hide was nearly always cut down the center of the back
so that it could be more easily manipulated. The two parts were then
spread upon the ground and scraped with a tool like an adze until every
particle of flesh was removed. In this way all unnecessary thickness was
obviated and the hide was made light and pliable. When the skin had been
reduced to the proper thinness a dressing made of the liver and brains
of the animal were spread over it. This mixture was allowed to dry and
the same process was repeated save that in the second instance while the
hide was wet it was stretched in a frame, carefully scraped with pumice
stone, sharp-edged rocks or a kind of hoe, until it was dry. To make it
as flexible as possible, it was then drawn back and forth over twisted
sinew. The parts were sewed together with sinew and the buffalo robe was
ready for the trader's hands.
As early as 1819 these robes were in great demand and one trader
reported that in a single year he shipped fifteen thousand to St. Louis.
In the everyday life of the Indians the products of the buffalo yielded
nearly every comfort and necessity. The hides were used not only for
robes and portable lodges which furnished shelter on the march, but they
were made into battle shields; upon their tanned surface the primitive
artist traced his painted record of the chase, the fray, or the mystic
medicine. They were laid upon the earth for the young braves to play
their endless games of chance upon, and the wounded were taken from the
field on stretchers of buffalo hides swung between a pair of ponies.
From them two kinds of boats were made. One, described by James in his
account of the journey of his party in 1819-20 is as follows:
"Our heavy baggage was ferried across in a portable canoe, consisting
of a single bison hide, which we carried constantly with us. Its
construction was extremely simple; the margin of the hide being pierced
with several small holes, admits a cord, by which it is drawn into the
form of a shallow basin. This is placed upon the water, and is kept
sufficiently distended by the baggage which it receives; it is then
towed or pushed across. A canoe of this kind will carry from four to
five hundred pounds."
The second variety, known as a "bull-boat," was made of willows woven
into a round basket and lined with buffalo hide.
The grease of these beasts was used to anoint the Indians' bodies and to
season the maize or corn.
From the horns were made spoons, sometimes holding half a pint, and
often ornamented upon the handles with curious carving.
The shoulder blade fastened to a stick served for a hoe or a plow.
From the hide of unborn buffalo calves bags were made to contain the
war-paint of braves.
It would be at once possible and profitable to continue enumerating the
practical uses of the buffalo, but far more interesting than these facts
were the ceremonies, superstitions and traditions in which they were
bound up.
Perhaps, first among the rites in sacred significance and solemn dignity
was the smoking of the calumet. This was supposed to be not only an
expression of peace among men and nations, but a propitiatory offering
to the Manitous, or guardian spirits, and to the Master of Life.
According to Colonel Mallory in the _Tenth Annual Report of the Bureau
of Ethnology_, the Sioux believed that this supreme emblem of good will
was brought to them by a white buffalo cow, in the old days when the
different bands of the nation were torn with internal strife. During
this period of hostility a beautiful white buffalo cow appeared, bearing
a pipe and four grains of corn, each of a different colour. From the
milk which dripped from her body, sprang the living corn, so from the
beginning the grain and the buffalo meat were decreed to be the food
of the Indians. She gave to the rival factions, the pipe which was the
sacred calumet, instructing them that it was the symbol of peace among
men and he who smoked it with his fellows, by that act sealed the bond
of brotherhood. After staying for awhile among the grateful people, and
teaching them to call her "Grandmother," which is a term of affectionate
reverence among the Indians, she led them to plentiful herds of her own
kind and vanished into the spiritland whence she came.
The odour of the buffalo was believed to be agreeable to the Great
Spirit so that the tobacco or kinnikinick of the calumet was flavoured
with animal's excrement in order that the aroma wafted upward might be
most pleasing. This custom of flavouring the pipe with the scent of the
buffalo was carefully observed by the Pawnee Loups of the olden time,
a tribe which claimed descent from the ancient Mexicans, in the awful
ceremonies preceding a human sacrifice to Venus, the "Great Star." Upon
this austere occasion four great buffalo skulls were placed within the
lodge where the celebration was held and they were offered the sacred
_nawishkaro_ or calumet. The bodies of their chiefs or those who died
gloriously in war were robed in buffalo skins, furnished with food and
weapons, and placed sitting upright, in a little lodge near a route
of travel or a camp in order that the passers by might see that they
had met their death with honour. The Pawnees also used bison skulls as
signals, and we find in James' _Travels_ this interesting account:
"At a little distance in front of the entrance of this breastwork, was
a semi-circular row of sixteen bison skulls, with their noses pointing
down the river. Near the center of the circle which this row would
describe if continued, was another skull marked with a number of red
lines.
"Our interpreter informed us that this arrangement of skulls and other
marks here discovered, were designed to communicate the following
information, namely, that the camp had been occupied by a war party of
the Pawnee Loup Indians, who had lately come from an excursion against
the Cumancias, Tetans or some of the Western tribes. The number of red
lines traced on the painted skull indicated the number of the party to
have been thirty-six; the position in which the skulls were placed, that
they were on their return to their own country. Two small rods stuck
in the ground, with a few hairs tied in two parcels to the end of each
signified that four scalps had been taken."
There are many other similar instances recorded by different adventurers
who braved the early West, yet this was but one of numerous uses of
buffalo skulls and heads. Among the Aricaras upon each lodge was a
trophy of the war path or the chase composed of strangely painted
buffalo heads topped with all kinds of weapons.
There was a curious belief among the Minitarees that the bones of the
buffalo killed in the chase became rehabilitated with flesh and lived
again, to be hunted the following year. In support of this superstition
they had a legend that once upon a time on a great hunt a boy of the
tribe was lost. His people gave him up for dead but the succeeding
season a huge bison was slain and when the body was opened the boy
stepped out alive and well. He related to his dumbfounded companions,
how the year before, he had become separated from them as he pursued a
splendid bull. He felled his game with an arrow, but so far had he gone
that it was too late to overtake and rejoin the tribe before nightfall.
Therefore, he cut into the bison's body, removed a portion of the
intestines and feeling the keen frost of evening upon his unsheltered
body, sought warmth within the carcass. But, lo! when the boy awakened
the buffalo was whole again and he was a prisoner within his whilom prey!
The Gros Ventres, in the day of Lewis and Clark, thought that if the
head of the slain buffalo were treated well, the living herd would come
in plentiful numbers to yield an abundance of meat.
Of the many bands into which the Omawhaw nation was divided there were
two, the _Ta-pa-eta-je_ and the _Ta-sin-da_, bison tail, which had the
buffalo for their medicine. The first of these were sworn to abstain
from touching buffalo heads, and the second were forbidden the flesh
of the calves until the young animals were more than one year old. If
these vows were broken by a member of the band and the sacred pledge
so violated, a judgment such as blindness, white hair or disease was
believed to be sent upon the offender. Even should one innocently
transgress the law, a visitation of sickness was accounted his condign
portion and not only he but his family were included in the wrath and
punishment of the outraged Manitous.
The Crow Indians, Up-sa-ro-ka, or Absaroka, used the buffalo as a part
of their great medicine. An early traveller, Dougherty, describes an
extraordinary "arrangement of the magi." In his own words, "the upper
portion of a cottonwood tree was emplanted with its base in the earth,
and around it was a sweat house, the upper part of the top of the tree
arising through the roof. A _gray_ bison skin, extended with oziers on
the inside so as to exhibit a natural appearance, was suspended above
the house, and on the branches were attached several pairs of children's
moccasins and leggings, and from one limb of the tree, a very large fan
made of war-eagles' feathers was dependent."
This leads to an interesting superstition of the Indians, which was
that any variation in the usual colour of the buffalo was caused by the
special interference of the Master of Life, and a beast so distinguished
from his kind was venerated religiously, much as the ancient Egyptians
worshipped the sacred bull. Once a "grayish-white" bison was seen and
upon another occasion a calf with white forefeet and a white frontal
mark. An early traveller once saw in an Indian lodge, the head of a
buffalo perfectly preserved, which was marked by a white star. The man
to whom it belonged treasured it as his medicine, nor would he part with
it at any price.
"'The herds come every season,' he said, 'into the vicinity to seek
their white-faced companion!'"
Maximilian, in his _Travels in North America_, gives an interesting
description of the martial and sacred significance of the robes of white
buffalo cows among the Mandans and Minitarees. He says that the brave
who has never possessed this emblem is without honour, and the merest
youth who has obtained it ranks above the most venerable patriarch who
has never owned the precious hide. Indeed, "of all the distinctions
of any man the white buffalo hide" was supreme. As the white buffalo
were extremely rare it was seldom a hunter killed one for himself. The
robes were brought by other tribes, often from far distant parts of the
country, to the Mandans who traded from ten to fifteen horses for a
perfect specimen. It was necessary for the hide to be that of a young
cow not more than two years old, and it had to be cured "with the horns,
nose, hoofs and tail" complete, In Maximilian's words: "The Mandans
have peculiar ceremonies at the dedication of the hide. As soon as they
have obtained it they engage an eminent medicine man, who must throw it
over him; he then walks around the village in the apparent direction
of the sun's course, and sings a medicine song. When the owner, after
collecting articles of value for three or four years, desires to offer
his treasure to the lord of life, or to the first man, he rolls it up,
after adding some wormwood or a head of maize, and the skin then remains
suspended on a high pole till it rots away. At the time of my visit
there was such an offering at _Mih-Tutta-Hang-Kush_, near the stages for
the dead without the village. Sometimes, when the ceremony of dedication
is finished, the hide is cut into small strips, and the members of the
family wear parts of it tied over the head, or across the forehead,
when they are in full dress. If a Mandan kills a young white buffalo
cow it is accounted to him as more than an exploit, or having killed an
enemy. He does not cut up the animal himself, but employs another man,
to whom he gives a horse for his trouble. He alone who has killed such
an animal is allowed to wear a narrow strip of the skin in his ears.
The whole robe is not ornamented, being esteemed superior to any other
dress, however fine. The traders have, sometimes, sold such hides to the
Indians, who gave them as many as sixty other robes in exchange. Buffalo
skins with white spots are likewise highly valued by the Mandans; but
there is a race of these animals with very soft, silky hair, which has a
beautiful gold lustre when in the sunshine; these are, likewise, highly
prized."
There are numerous myths of a white buffalo cow, who at will, assumed
the form of a beautiful maiden.
The Sioux in common with the Aricaras and the Minitarees observed the
custom of fasting before going to war or upon the hunt. They had a
"medicine lodge," where a buffalo robe was spread and a red painted post
was planted. Upon the top of the lodge was tied a buffalo calf skin
holding various sacred objects. After preliminary rites they tortured
themselves, one favorite method being to make a gash under their
shoulder blades, run cords through the wounds and drag two large bison
heads to a hill about a mile distant from their village, where they
danced until they fell fainting with exhaustion.
Some of the tribes performed the _Ta-nuguh-wat-che_, or bison dance.
The participants were painted black, wore a head dress made of the skin
of a buffalo head which was cut after the fashion of a cap. It was
adjusted in a manner to resemble a live animal, and extending from this
head dress, over the half-naked and blackened bodies of the dancers,
depended a long strip of hide from the back of the buffalo which hung
down like a tail.
The Omawhaws believed that the Great Wahconda appeared sometimes in the
shape of a bison bull and they, like other tribes, cherished legends of
a fabulous age when animals spoke together, did battle and possessed
intelligence equal to that of men. The following myth of the bison bull,
the ant and the tortoise, related by James, is an interesting example of
these fables:
Once upon a time an ant, a tortoise and a buffalo bull formed themselves
into a war party and determined to attack the village of an enemy in
the vicinity. They decided in council that the tortoise being sluggish
and slow of movement, should start in advance and the ant and bull
should time their departure so as to overtake him on the way. This plan
was adopted and the awkward tortoise floundered forth on his hostile
mission alone. In due time the bison bull took the ant upon his back,
lest on account of his minuteness he be lost, and together they set out
for the enemy's country. At length they came to a treacherous bog where
they found the poor tortoise struggling vainly to free himself. This
caused the ant and the bull much merriment as they crossed safely to
solid ground. But the tortoise, scorning to ask the aid of his brothers
in war, replied cheerfully to their taunts and insisted that he would
meet them at the hostile village.
The ant and the bison advanced with noise and bravado and the watchful
enemy perceiving them, issued from their lodges and wounded both,
driving them to headlong, inglorious retreat.
Finally the tortoise with sore travail, reached his destination to find
his companions flown, and because he could not flee also, he fell into
the hands of the foe--a prisoner. These cruel people decided to put him
to death at once. They threatened him with slow roasting in red coals
of fire, with boiling and many awful tortures, but the astute tortoise
expressed his willingness to suffer any of these penalties. Therefore
the enemy consulted together again and held over his head the fate of
drowning. Against this he protested with such frenzied vehemence that
his captors immediately executed the sentence, and bearing him to a deep
part of the river which flowed through their country, flung him in. Thus
restored to his native element he plunged to the bottom of the stream,
then arose to the surface to see his enemies gaping from the bank in
expectation of his agony. He grabbed several of them, dragged them
down and killed them, and appeared once more triumphantly displaying
their scalps to the bewildered multitude of thwarted warriors who were
helpless to avenge their brethren. The tortoise, satisfied with his
achievement, returned to his home where he found the ant and the bull
prone upon the floor of the lodge, wounded, humbled and fordone.
* * * * *
Finally, the Minitarees and other tribes had a curious legend of their
origin. They believed that their forefathers once dwelt in dark,
subterranean caverns, beyond a great, swift-running river. Two youths
disappeared from amongst them and after a short absence returned to
proclaim that they had found a land lighted by an orb which warmed
the earth to fecundity, where deep waters shimmered crystal white and
countless herds of bison covered grass and flower-decked plains. So the
youths led the people up out of the primal darkness into the pleasant
valleys where they dwelt evermore. And as the bison were celebrated in
this child-like tradition of the Beginning, so likewise, did they figure
in the primitive conception of the hereafter. That region of Summer
where the good Indian should find repose, was pictured as an ideal
country, fair with verdure and rich with herds of buffalo which the good
spirits would go seeking through the golden vistas of eternity.
IV
When the first explorers penetrated the fastnesses of the New World the
buffalo was lord of the continent. Coronado on his march northward from
Mexico saw hordes of these unknown beasts which a chronicler of 1600
described naïvely as "crooked-backed oxen." The mighty herds roamed
through the blue grass of Kentucky, the Carolinas, that region now
the state of New York, and probably every favorable portion of North
America. Very gradually they were pushed farther and farther westward
to the vicinity of the Rocky Mountains, which was for many years their
refuge and retreat. In 1819 the official expedition sent by John C.
Calhoun to examine the Rocky Mountains, their tribes, animal and plant
life, found the buffalo reduced in numbers, though in the wild stretches
of country lying South along the Arkansas, they were seen in countless
hordes. The report says:
"During these few days past, the bisons have occurred in vast and almost
continuous herds, and in such infinite numbers as seemed to indicate the
great bend of the Arkansas as their chief and general rendezvous."
The account continues to narrate how the scent of the white men borne
to the farthest animal, a distance of two miles, started the multitudes
speeding away, and yet so limitless were those millions, that, day
after day, they flowed past like a sea until their presence became as
a part of the landscape, and by night their thunderous bellow echoed
through the savage wastes.
In Bradbury's _Travels_ there is a description of a fight among buffalo
bulls. He says:
"On my return to the boats, as the wind had in some degree abated, we
proceeded and had not gone more than five or six miles before we were
surprised by a dull, hollow sound, the cause of which we could not
possibly imagine. It seemed to be one or two miles below us; but as our
descent was rapid, it increased every moment in loudness, and before we
had proceeded far, our ears were able to catch some distinct tones, like
the bellowing of buffaloes. When opposite to the place from whence it
proceeded, we landed, ascended the bank, and entered a small skirting
of trees and shrubs, that separated the river from an extensive plain.
On gaining a view of it, such a scene opened to us as will fall to the
lot of few travellers to witness. This plain was literally covered
with buffaloes as far as we could see, and we soon discovered that
it consisted in part of females. The males were fighting in every
direction, with a fury which I have never seen paralleled, each having
singled out his antagonist. We judged that the number must have amounted
to some thousands, and that there were many hundreds of these battles
going on at the same time, some not eighty yards from us. The noise
occasioned by the trampling and bellowing was far beyond description."
At that time the bison paths were like well trodden roadways and served
as such to the explorers. These paths always led by most direct routes
to fresh water, and therefore were of the greatest assistance to
travellers unacquainted with the undiscovered lands.
Such were the legions of the plains even when the East had refused them
shelter. And although it was roughly estimated that the tribes dwelling
along the Missouri River killed yearly 100,000 for food, saddle covers
and clothes, this did not appreciably lessen their hosts. Not until the
white tide flowed faster and faster over the wilds was the doom of the
buffalo sounded, together with that of the forests which sheltered them,
and the Indians who were at once their foes and their friends.
Then the destruction was swift beyond belief. The royal game which
Coronado saw in 1585, which Lewis and Clark in their adventurous journey
into the unknown West encountered at every turn, was nearly gone. They
endured in such numbers that as late as 1840 Father De Smet said:
"The scene realized in some sort the ancient tradition of the holy
scriptures, speaking of the vast pastoral countries of the Orient, and
of the cattle upon a thousand hills."
It was inconceivable to the Indians that civilization should wreak
such utter desolation. They could not comprehend the passing of the
mighty herds any more than they could appreciate the destruction of
the forests or their own decline. They did not know that the railroad
which traversed the highway of the plains between the East and West ran
through miles upon miles of country whitened with buffalo bones; that
veritably the prairies which had been the pasture of the herds were
now become their graveyard--a graveyard of unburied dead. They did not
know that armies of workingmen and settlers had drawn upon the buffalo
for food and warmth, that the beasts had been harried and hunted North,
South, East and West, sometimes legitimately, but too often in cruel,
wanton sport, until, at last, it became an evident fact that they were
visibly nearing their end. A kind of stampede possessed the terrified
beasts. Their old haunts were usurped. Where the fostering forests had
given them shelter, towns arose. Baffled and dismayed they fled, hither
and thither, only to crash headlong within the range of the huntsman's
gun. So they charged at random, ever pressed closer and closer to bay by
the encroaching life which was their death.
About the year of 1883 it was known that the last thinned and vagrant
remnant of the buffalo was virtually gone. Maddened into desperate
bewilderment they had done an unprecedented thing. Instead of going
northward as their habit had been since man first observed their kind,
they turned and fled South. This was their end. The half-breeds of the
Red River, the Sioux of the Missouri, and most relentless of all, the
white hide-hunter, beset the wild, retreating band. Their greed spared
neither beast that tottered with age, nor calf fresh from its mother's
womb. All fell prey to the mastering greed of the lords of the great
free land.
Upon the shores of the Cannonball River, so-called from the heaps of
round stones upon its banks, on the edge of the Dakotas, the buffalo
made their last stand. Driven to bay they stood and fell together, the
latest offspring of a vanished race.
But the poor Indian, he who had shared the freedom of the continent
with his horned friend, could not yet understand that the buffalo were
gone--gone as the sheltering woods were going, even as he, himself, must
go. Evolution is cruel as well as beneficent and there is a pang for
each poor, lesser existence crushed out in the race, as there is joy
in the survival of the strongest and best. And those who are superior
to-day must themselves be superseded to-morrow and fall into the abysmal
yesterday, mere stepping stones toward the Infinite. The Indians,
knowing none of these things, became troubled and perplexed. In vain
they sought the herds on their old-time hunting grounds, but only stark,
bleached bones were there and they went back to their lodges, hungry,
gaunt and wan.
In years past the buffalo had disappeared at intervals to unknown
pastures, then returned multiplied and reinforced. Was it not possible
that they had gone upon such a journey, perhaps to the ultimate North
where the Old Man dwelt, to seek refuge in a mighty polar cave under
his benign protection? So from their meager stores the Indians offered
sacrifices of horses and other of their most valued possessions, to the
Old Man, that he might drive the buffalo back to the deserted pasture
lands near the Rocky Mountains.
"They are tired," said Long Tree of the Sioux, "with much running. They
have had no rest. They have been chased and chased over the rocks and
gravel of the prairie and their feet are sore, worn down, like those of
a tender-footed horse. When the buffalo have rested and their feet have
grown out again, they will return to us in larger numbers, stronger,
with better robes and fatter than they ever were."
Still the years passed and the buffalo came not, and some there were
who said that if the Old Man, the Great Spirit of the North, loved
his children of the forest, he would not have left them to suffer so
painfully and long.
Then out of dumb despair came sudden hope; out of the bitter silence
sounded a Voice and a prophet came "preaching through the wilderness,"
even as John the Baptist had come, centuries ago, bringing a message of
peace and the promise of salvation. This prophet was _Wovoka_, founder
of the Ghost Dance religion, who arose in "the land of the setting sun,"
in the shadow of the Sierras. He told the wrapt people that when "the
sun died" he went to heaven where he saw God, the spirits of those long
dead and vast herds of revivified buffalo feeding in the pastures of the
skies. Heaven would not be perfect to the Indian without the buffalo,
and the red man, less jealous than ourselves of his paradise, was
willing to share the bliss of immortality with his old-time companions
of the plains. The tenets of the new creed were gentle, teaching peace,
truth, honesty and universal brotherhood. Under the thrall of the Ghost
Dance, devotees dropped to earth insensible and had visions of the
spirit-world. Wovoka prophesied that at the appointed time the ghostly
legions, led by a spirit captain, would descend from heaven, striking
down the unbelievers and restoring to the Indians and the buffalo
dominion over the earth.
With the awful desperation of a last hope the Indians leaped high into
the Night surrounding them to grasp at a star--a star, alas! which
proved to be but a will-o'-the-wisp set over a quagmire of death.
Nothing seemed impossible to their excited fancy. Had not the white race
killed the Christ upon a Cross of torture, and would he not come to
earth again as an Indian, to gather his children together in everlasting
happiness when the grass should be green with the Spring? Meantime they
must dance, dance through the weary days and nights in order that the
prophesy might be fulfilled.
An alarm spread through the country. What meant this frenzied dance of
circling, whirling mystics who strained with wide eyes to look beyond
the skies? An order came that the dance must cease. This decree was but
human, the one which bade them dance they believed to be divine. And
dance they did, wildly, madly, to the sharp time of musketry until the
hurrying feet were stilled and the dancers lay cold and stark on the
field of Wounded Knee.
In all the annals of the Indians' tragic tale there is nothing more
pitiful than this Dance of Death. The poor victims, together with the
last hope of a despairing race, were buried at Wounded Knee, and the
white man wrought his will.
Slowly and steadily the woods were laid low, inevitably the Indians
retreated farther and farther back, closer pressed, routed as the
buffalo had been. All hope of the return of the beloved herds left their
hearts and they knew at last that they would find them only in those
Elysian fields of perpetual summertime--the Happy Hunting Ground.
V
The sun set red behind the mountains. The shadows stole down, gray
and mystical as ghosts. From afar the coyote's dolorous cry plained
through the silence and the owl hooted dismally as he awakened at the
approach of night. There in the pallid dusk lay the bleached skull
and the arrowhead of black obsidian, mute reliques of the past. The
royal buffalo is no more, the hunter that hurled the bolt is gone. We
may find the inferior offspring of the one in city parks, of the other
on ever-lessening reservations, but degeneracy is more pitiful than
death, and the old, free herds that ranged the continent are past as the
fleet-footed, strong-hearted tribes have vanished from the plains.
So the story of the two fallen races is told eloquently by this whitened
skull on the hillside and the jet-black arrow head flung by the stilled
red hand.
_LAKE McDONALD & ITS TRAIL_