affected, performing a series of gyrations that were most
remarkable. At all hours of the day and night his cry could
be heard all over camp, and when found he would be dancing in
the ring, possibly upon one foot, with his eyes closed and the
forefinger of his right hand pointed upward, or in some other
ridiculous posture. Upon being asked his reasons for assuming these
attitudes he replied that he could not help it; that it came over
him just like cramps.
Somewhat later Captain Scott says:
John Wilson had progressed finely, and was now a full-fledged
doctor, a healer of diseases, and a finder of stolen property
through supernatural means. One day, while we were in his tent,
a Wichita woman entered, led by the spirit. It was explained to
us that she did not even know who lived there, but some force she
could not account for brought her. Having stated her case to John,
he went off into a fit of the jerks, in which his spirit went up
and saw “his father” [i. e., God], who directed him how to cure
this woman. When he came to, he explained the cure to her, and sent
her away rejoicing. Soon afterwards a Keechei man came in, who was
blind of one eye, and who desired to have the vision restored. John
again consulted his father, who informed him that nothing could be
done for that eye because that man held aloof from the dance.
While the author was visiting the Caddo on Sugar creek in the fall of
1893, John Wilson came down from his own camp to explain his part in
the Ghost dance. He wore a wide-brim hat, with his hair flowing down
to his shoulders, and on his breast, suspended from a cord about his
neck, was a curious amulet consisting of the polished end of a buffalo
horn, surrounded by a circlet of downy red feathers, within another
circle of badger and owl claws. He explained that this was the source
of his prophetic and clairvoyant inspiration. The buffalo horn was
“God’s heart,” the red feathers contained his own heart, and the circle
of claws represented the world. When he prayed for help, his heart
communed with “God’s heart,” and he learned what he wished to know. He
had much to say also of the moon. Sometimes in his trances he went to
the moon and the moon taught him secrets. It must be remembered that
sun, moon, stars, and almost every other thing in nature are considered
by the Indians as endowed with life and spirit. He claimed an intimate
acquaintance with the other world and asserted positively that he could
tell me “just what heaven is like.” Another man who accompanied him had
a yellow sun with green rays painted on his forehead, with an elaborate
rayed crescent in green, red, and yellow on his chin, and wore a
necklace from which depended a crucifix and a brass clock-wheel, the
latter, as he stated, representing the sun.
On entering the room where I sat awaiting him, Nĭshkû′ntŭ approached
and performed mystic passes in front of my face with his hands, after
the manner of the hypnotist priests in the Ghost dance, blowing upon me
the while, as he afterward explained to blow evil things away from me
before beginning to talk on religious subjects. He was good enough to
state also that he had prayed for light before coming, and had found
that my heart was good. Laying one hand on my head, and grasping my own
hand with the other, he prayed silently for some time with bowed head,
and then lifting his hand from my head, he passed it over my face, down
my shoulder and arm to the hand, which he grasped and pressed slightly,
and then released the fingers with a graceful upward sweep, as in the
minuet. The first part of this—the laying of the hands upon the head,
afterward drawing them down along the face and chest or arms—is the
regular Indian form of blessing, reverential gratitude, or prayerful
entreaty, and is of frequent occurrence in connection with the Ghost
dance, when the believers ask help of the priests or beg the prayers
of the older people. The next day about twenty or more Caddo came
by on their way to the agency, all dressed and painted for a dance
that was to be held that night. They stopped awhile to see us, and on
entering the room where we were the whole company, men, women, and
children, went through the same ceremony, with each one of the inmates
in turn, beginning with Wilson and myself, and ending with the members
of the family. The ceremony occupied a considerable time, and was at
once beautiful and impressive. Not a word was said by either party
during the while, excepting as someone in excess of devotion would
utter prayerful exclamations aloud like the undertone of a litany.
Every face wore a look of reverent solemnity, from the old men and
women down to little children of 6 and 8 years. Several of them, the
women especially, trembled while praying, as under the excitement of
the Ghost dance. The religious greeting being over, the women of the
family, with those of the party, went out to prepare the dinner, while
the rest remained to listen to the doctrinal discussion.
The Kiowa were predisposed to accept the doctrine of the Ghost dance.
No tribe had made more desperate resistance to the encroachments of
the whites upon their hunting grounds, and even after the failure of
the last effort of the confederated tribes in 1874–75, the Kiowa were
slow to accept the verdict of defeat. The result of this unsuccessful
struggle was to put an end to the boundless freedom of the prairie,
where they had roamed unquestioned from Dakota almost to central
Mexico, and henceforth the tribes were confined within the narrow
limits of reservations. Within five years the great southern buffalo
herd was extinct and the Indians found themselves at once prisoners and
paupers. The change was so swift and terrible in its effects that they
could not believe it real and final. It seemed to them like a dream of
sorrow, a supernatural cloud of darkness to punish their derelictions,
but which could be lifted from them by prayer and sacrifice. Their old
men told of years when the buffalo was scarce or had gone a long way
off, but never since the beginning of the world of a time when there
was no buffalo. The buffalo still lived beyond their horizon or in
caves under the earth, and with its return would come back prosperity
and freedom. Before we wonder at their faith we must remember that the
disappearance of these millions of buffalo in the space of a few years
has no parallel in the annals of natural history.
In 1881 a young Kiowa named Da′tekañ, “Keeps-his-name-always,” began to
“make medicine” to bring back the buffalo. He set up a sacred tipi, in
front of which he erected a pole with a buffalo skin at the top, and
made for himself a priestly robe of red color, trimmed with rows of
eagle feathers. Then standing in front of his tipi he called the people
around him and told them that he had been commanded and empowered in
a dream to bring back the buffalo, and if they observed strictly the
prayers and ceremonies which he enjoined the great herds would once
more cover the prairie. His hearers believed his words, promised strict
obedience, and gave freely of their blankets and other property to
reward his efforts in their behalf. Da′tekañ retired to his sacred
tipi, where, in his feathered robe of office, he continued to prophesy
and make buffalo medicine for a year, when he died without seeing the
realization of his hopes. The excitement caused by his predictions
came to the notice of the agent then in charge, who mentions it in his
annual report, without understanding the cause. On a Kiowa calendar
obtained by the author the event is recorded in a pictograph which
represents the medicine-man in his tipi, with his scarlet robe over his
shoulders and a buffalo beneath his feet (figure 84).
[Illustration: +Fig. 84+—Two Kiowa prophecies (from a Kiowa calendar).]
About six years later, in 1887, another prophet, named Pa′-iñgya, “In
the Middle,” revived the prophecy, claiming to be heir to all the
supernatural powers of his late predecessor. He amplified the doctrine
by asserting, logically enough, that as the whites were responsible
for the disappearance of the buffalo, the whites themselves would be
destroyed by the gods when the time was at hand for the return of
the buffalo. He preached also his own invulnerability and claimed the
power to kill with a look those who might offend him, as far as his
glance could reach. He fixed his headquarters on Elk creek, near the
western limit of the reservation, where he inaugurated a regular series
of ritual observances, under the management of ten chosen assistants.
Finally he announced that the time was at hand when the whites would
be removed and the buffalo would return. He ordered all the tribe to
assemble on Elk creek, where after four days he would bring down fire
from heaven which would destroy the agency, the schools, and the white
race, with the Indian unbelievers all together. The faithful need not
fear pursuit by the troops, for the soldiers who might follow would
wither before his glance and their bullets would have no effect on
the Indians. On the same Kiowa calendar this prediction is recorded
in another pictograph intended to represent flying bullets. The
whole Kiowa tribe caught the infection of his words. Every camp was
abandoned, parents took their children from the schools, and all fled
to the rendezvous on Elk creek. Here they waited patiently for their
deliverance till the predicted day came and passed without event, when
they returned with sadness to their camps and their government rations
of white man’s beef. Pa′-iñgya still lives, but the halo of prophecy no
longer surrounds him. To account for the disappointment he claimed that
his people had violated some of the ordinances and thereby postponed
the destined happiness. In this way their minds were kept dwelling on
the subject, and when at last the rumor of a messiah came from the
north he hailed it as the fulfillment of the prediction.
Early in the summer of 1890 the news of the advent of the messiah
reached the Kiowa, and in June of that year they sent a delegation of
about twenty men under the leadership of Pa′tadal, “Poor Buffalo,”
to Cheyenne and Arapaho agency at Darlington to learn more about the
matter. They brought back a favorable report and also a quantity of
the sacred red paint procured originally from the country of the
messiah. Soon after there was a great gathering of the Kiowa and Apache
at the agency at Anadarko to receive a payment of “grass money” due
from the cattlemen for the lease of pasturage on the reservation. On
this occasion the Ghost dance was formally inaugurated among the Kiowa,
Poor Buffalo assuming direction of the ceremony, and painting the
principal participants with the sacred red paint with his own hands.
The dance was carried back to their various camps and became a part of
the tribal life.
[Illustration: +Fig. 85+—Poor Buffalo.]
About this time a Sioux chief, High Wolf, came down from the north to
visit the Cheyenne, Arapaho, Kiowa, and other tribes in that section.
He remained some time among them, and on his return to the north
invited a young Kiowa named Ä′piatañ, “Wooden Lance,” whose grandmother
had been a Sioux captive, to come up and visit his relatives at Pine
Ridge. The invitation was accepted by Ä′piatañ, partly for the pleasure
of seeing a new tribe and meeting his mother’s kindred, but chiefly
for the purpose of investigating for himself and for the Kiowa the
truth of the messiah story, Äpiatañ, who speaks but little English,
and who was then about 30 years of age, had recently lost a child to
whom he had been very much attached. He brooded over his loss until the
new doctrine came with its promise of a reunion with departed friends
and its possibility of seeing and talking with them in visions of the
trance. Moved by parental affection, which is the ruling passion with
an Indian, he determined on this long journey in search of the messiah,
who was vaguely reported to be somewhere in the north, to learn from
his own lips the wonderful story, and to see if it were possible to
talk again with his child. He discussed the matter with the chiefs,
who decided to send him as a delegate to find the messiah and learn
the truth or falsity of the reports, in order that the Kiowa might
be guided by the result on his return. A sufficient sum of money was
raised for his expenses, and he left for the north in September, 1890.
Almost the whole tribe had assembled at the agency to witness his
departure, and each in turn of the principal men performed over him a
ceremony of blessing, such as has already been described. His going and
return are both recorded on the calendar previously mentioned.
[Illustration: PL. CVI
BI′ÄÑK̔I, THE KIOWA DREAMER]
In October, 1890, shortly after Ä′piatañ’s departure, Sitting Bull,
the Arapaho prophet of the Ghost dance, came down from his tribe
and gave new impetus to the excitement among the Kiowa. This event
also is recorded on the same Kiowa calendar in a well-drawn picture
representing a buffalo standing beside the figure of a man (figure
86). It is also indicated less definitely on another calendar obtained
from the tribe. Sitting Bull confirmed, as by personal knowledge, all
that had been told of the messiah, and predicted that the new earth
would arrive in the following spring, 1891. The Kiowa assembled on the
Washita, at the mouth of Rainy Mountain creek, and here, at the largest
Ghost dance ever held by the tribe, Sitting Bull consecrated seven
men and women as leaders of the dance and teachers of the doctrine by
giving to each one a sacred feather to be worn in the dance as the
badge of priesthood. Until the Ghost dance came to the prairie tribes
their women had never before been raised to such dignity as to be
allowed to wear feathers in their hair. After “giving the feather” to
the leaders thus chosen, they were taught the songs and ritual of the
dance. At first the songs were all in the Arapaho language, but after
the trances, which now began to be frequent, the Kiowa composed songs
of their own.
[Illustration: +Fig. 86+—Sitting Bull comes down (from a Kiowa
calendar).]
Among the dreamers and prophets who now came to the front was one who
merits more than a passing notice. His original name was Bi′äñk̔i,
“Eater,” but on account of his frequent visits to the spirit world
he is now known as Äsa′tito′la, which maybe freely rendered “The
Messenger.” For a long time he had been in the habit of going alone
upon the mountain, there to fast and pray until visions came to
him, when he would return and give to his people the message of
inspiration. Frequently these vigils were undertaken at the request
of friends of sick people to obtain spiritual knowledge of the proper
remedies to be applied, or at the request of surviving relatives who
wished to hear from their departed friends in the other world. He
is now about 55 years of age, quiet and dignified in manner, with a
thoughtful cast of countenance which accords well with his character
as a priest and seer. His intellectual bent is further shown by the
fact that he has invented a system of ideographic writing which
is nearly as distinct from the ordinary Indian pictograph system
as it is from our own alphabet. It is based on the sign language
of the plains tribes, the primary effort being to convey the idea
by a pictured representation of the gesture sign; but, as in the
evolution of the alphabet, a part is frequently put for the whole,
and numerous arbitrary or auxiliary characters are added, until the
result is a well-developed germ of an alphabetic system. He has
taught the system to his sons, and by this means was able to keep up
a correspondence with them while they were attending Carlisle school.
It is unintelligible to the rest of the tribe. I have specimens of
this curious graphic method, obtained from the father and his sons,
which maybe treated at length at some future time. In the picture of
Äsa′tito′la (plate +CVI+), he holds in one hand a paper on which is
depicted one of his visions, while in the other is the pointer with
which he explains its meaning.
Plate +CVII+ herewith represents this vision. On this occasion, after
reaching the spirit world he found himself on a vast prairie covered
with herds of buffalo and ponies, represented respectively in the
picture by short black and green lines at the top. He went on through
the buffalo, the way being indicated by the dotted green lines, until
he came to a large Kiowa camp, in which, according to their old
custom, nearly every tipi had its distinctive style of painting or
ornamentation to show to what family it belonged, all these families
being still represented in the tribe. He went on to the point indicated
by the first heavy blue mark, where he met four young women, whom he
knew as having died years before, returning on horseback with their
saddle-pouches filled with wild plums. After some conversation he asked
them about two brothers, his relatives, who had died some time ago.
He went in the direction pointed out by the young women and soon met
the two young men coming into camp with a load of fresh buffalo meat
hung at their saddles. Their names were Emanki′na, “Can’t-hold-it,”
a policeman, and E′‛pea, “Afraid-of-him,” who had died while held as
a prisoner of war in Florida about fifteen years before. It will be
noted that they are represented in the picture as armed only with bows
and arrows, in agreement with the Ghost-dance doctrine of a return to
aboriginal things. After proceeding some distance he retraced his steps
and met two curious beings, represented in the picture by green figures
with crosses instead of heads. These told him to go on, and on
doing so he came to an immense circle of Kiowa dancing the Ghost dance
around a cedar tree, indicated by the black circle with a green figure
resembling a tree in the center. He stood for a while near the tree,
shown by another blue mark, when he saw a woman, whom he knew, leave
the dance. He hurried after her until she reached her own tipi and went
into it—shown by the blue mark beside the red tipi with red flags on
the ends of the tipi poles—when he turned around and came back. She
belonged to the family of the great chief Sett’aiñti, “White Bear,”
as indicated by the red tipi with red flags, no other warrior in the
tribe having such a tipi. On inquiring for his own relatives he was
directed to the other side of the camp, where he met a man—represented
by the heavy black mark—who told him his own people were inside of the
next tipi. On entering he found the whole family, consisting of his
father, two brothers, two sisters, and several children, feasting on
fresh buffalo beef from a kettle hung over the fire. They welcomed him
and offered him some of the meat, which for some reason he was afraid
to taste. To convince him that it was good they held it up for him to
smell, when he awoke and found himself lying alone upon the mountain.
[Illustration: PL. CVII
BIÄÑKI’S VISION.]
* * * * *
Ä′piatañ went on first to Pine Ridge, where he was well received by the
Sioux, who had much to say of the new messiah in the west. He was urged
to stop and join them in the Ghost dance, but refused and hurried on
to Fort Washakie, where he met the northern Arapaho and the Shoshoni,
whom he called the “northern Comanches.” Here the new prophecy was
the one topic of conversation, and after stopping only long enough
to learn the proper route to the Paiute country, he went on over the
Union Pacific railroad to Nevada. On arriving at the agency at Pyramid
lake the Paiute furnished him a wagon and an Indian guide across the
country to the home of Wovoka in the upper end of Mason valley. The
next day he was admitted to his presence. The result was a complete
disappointment. A single interview convinced him of the utter falsity
of the pretensions of the messiah and the deceptive character of the
hopes held out to the believers.
Saddened and disgusted, Ä′piatañ made no stay, but started at once
on his return home. On his way back he stopped at Bannock agency at
Fort Hall, Idaho, and from there sent a letter to his people, stating
briefly that he had seen the messiah and that the messiah was a fraud.
This was the first intimation the Kiowa had received from an Indian
source that their hopes were not well grounded. The author was present
when the letter was received at Anadarko and read to the assembled
Indians by Ä′piatañ’s sister, an educated woman named Laura Dunmoi,
formerly of Carlisle school. The result was a division of opinion.
Some of the Indians, feeling that the ground had been taken from under
them, at once gave up all hope and accepted the inevitable of despair.
Others were disposed to doubt the genuineness of the letter, as it had
come through the medium of a white man, and decided to withhold their
decision until they could hear directly from the delegate himself.
Ä′piatañ returned in the middle of February, 1891. The agent sent
notice to the various camps on the reservation for the Indians to
assemble at the agency to hear his report, and also sent a request to
Cheyenne and Arapaho agency to have Sitting Bull come down at the same
time so that the Indians might hear both sides of the story.
[Illustration: +Fig. 87+—Ä′piatañ.]
[Illustration: PL. CVIII
KIOWA SUMMER SHELTER]
The council was held at the agency at Anadarko, Oklahoma, on February
19, 1891, the author being among those present on the occasion. It
was a great gathering, representing every tribe on the reservation,
there being also in attendance a number of Arapaho who had accompanied
Sitting Bull from the other agency. Everything said was interpreted
in turn into English, Kiowa, Comanche, Caddo, Wichita, and Arapaho.
This was a slow process, and necessitated frequent repetition, so that
the talk occupied all day. Ä′piatañ first made his report, which was
interpreted into the various languages. Questions were asked by the
agent, Mr Adams, and by leading Indians, and after the full details had
been obtained in this manner Sitting Bull, the Arapaho, was called on
to make his statement. The scene was dramatic in the highest degree.
Although in a certain sense Sitting Bull himself was on trial, it meant
more than that to the assembled tribe. Their power, prosperity, and
happiness had gone down, their very race was withering away before
the white man. The messiah doctrine promised a restoration of the old
conditions through supernatural assistance. If this hope was without
foundation, the Indian had no future and his day was forever past.
After some preliminaries Ä′piatañ arose and told his story. He had gone
on as related until he arrived at the home of Wovoka in Mason valley.
Here he was told that the messiah could not be seen until the next day.
On being finally admitted to his presence he found him lying down,
his face covered with a blanket, and singing to himself. When he had
finished the song the messiah uncovered his face and asked Ä′piatañ,
through an interpreter, what he wanted. As Ä′piatañ had approached with
great reverence under the full belief that the messiah was omniscient,
able to read his secret thoughts and to speak all languages, this
question was a great surprise to him, and his faith at once began to
waver. However, he told who he was and why he had come, and then asked
that he be permitted to see some of his dead relatives, particularly
his little child. Wovoka replied that this was impossible, and that
there were no spirits there to be seen. With their mixture of Christian
and aboriginal ideas many of the Indians had claimed that this messiah
was the veritable Christ and bore upon his hands and feet the scars
of the crucifixion. Not seeing these scars, Ä′piatañ expressed some
doubt as to whether Wovoka was really the messiah he had come so far to
see, to which Wovoka replied that he need go no farther for there was
no other messiah, and went on to say that he had preached to Sitting
Bull and the others and had given them a new dance, but that some of
them, especially the Sioux, had twisted things and made trouble, and
now Ä′piatañ had better go home and tell his people to quit the whole
business. Discouraged and sick at heart Ä′piatañ went out from his
presence, convinced that there was no longer a god in Israel.