both food and water. They were watched so closely by the Mexicans that
they could only venture out to the edge of the water under cover of
darkness to get a hasty drink or cut from the dead horses a few strips
of putrefying flesh, which they had to eat raw. One man was shot in the
leg while thus endeavoring to obtain water. From the stench of the dead
horses, and the hunger, thirst, and watchfulness, they were soon reduced
to a terrible condition of suffering.
On exploring the cave to see if there might be any means of escape, they
found that it extended a considerable distance, and at the farther end
was a hole opening to the surface. One of them climbed up and thrust his
head out of the opening, but was seen by the soldiers, who at once
effectually closed the hole. It was evident that the Mexicans were
afraid to attack the Indians and were determined to keep them penned up
until they were starved. To add to their distress, the decaying
carcasses of the horses soon made the water unfit to drink. After ten
days of suffering they realized that a longer stay meant dying in the
cave, and it was resolved to make a desperate attempt to escape that
night.
The sides of the well were steep and difficult, but they had noticed a
cedar growing from a crevice in the rock, the top of which reached
nearly to the height of the cliff, and it seemed just possible that by
its means they might be able to climb out. That night, after dark, they
made the attempt and succeeded in gaining the top without being
discovered by the soldiers on guard. One only, the man who had been shot
in the leg, was unable to climb. He implored his comrades to take him
with them, but finding that impossible, they answered that it was his
life against theirs and if they remained with him or lost time in trying
to get him out they would all perish together. They urged him to have a
strong heart and die like a warrior; he calmly accepted the inevitable,
saying only; "When you get home, tell my comrades to come back and
avenge me." Then he sat down by the side of the well to await death when
daylight should reveal him to his enemies. His name, Dágoi, deserves to
be remembered.
Dohasän was the first to reach the top; he belonged to the Kâitséñko,
and it is said that before leaving the cave he had sung the song of that
warrior order in which they bid defiance to death, the same which
Set-ängya afterward chanted before he sprang upon the guard and was
riddled with bullets by the soldiers.
As they emerged they saw the fires of their enemies burning in various
directions about the mouth of the cave. The Indians were sheltered by
the darkness, but some of the soldiers heard a slight noise and fired at
random in that direction, and seriously wounded Koñate, who was shot
through the body. The Kiowa succeeded in making their escape, probably
helping themselves to some of the Mexican horses, and carried with them
their wounded comrade until they reached a noted spring, perhaps on the
edge of the Staked plain, known as _Pai-k`op tóñtep_, "Sun-mountain
spring," from its circular shape and its situation on the top of a
mountain. By this time Koñate's wounds were in such condition that it
seemed only a question of a few hours when he would die. Finding
themselves unable to carry him in his helpless condition across the
desolate plains, his friends reluctantly decided to leave him to his
fate. Placing him within reach of the water, they raised over him an
arbor of branches to shield him from the sun, and rode away, intending
on reaching home to send back a party, in accordance with their custom,
to bring back his bones for burial.
Deserted by his companions, his wounds putrefying under the hot sun,
Koñate lay stretched out by the spring silently awaiting the end. The
sun went down and day faded into night, when far off on the hillside he
heard the cry of a wolf; the wounded man roused himself from his stupor
and listened; again he heard the cry of the wolf, but this time from
another direction and evidently near; despair seized him as he realized
that the coyotes had scented their prey and were gathering to the feast,
and now he heard the patter of the light feet and the sniffing of the
animal as a wolf prowled around him; but instead of springing upon the
helpless man and tearing him in pieces, the wolf came up and gently
licked his wounds, then quietly lay down beside him.
Now he heard another sound in the distance, the _tsó dal-tem_, or
eagle-bone whistle of the sun dance; it approached, and he heard the
song of the _k`ádó_, and at last the spirit of the _taíme_ stood before
him and said: "I pity you, and shall not let you die, but you shall see
your home and friends again." The _taíme_ then sent a heavy rain to
clear out his wounds and afterward talked long with him, giving him
instructions for a new shield and conferring upon him mysterious powers
of medicine, of which the proof and emblem should be the _ä´poto_ staff,
which he instructed him to make after his return. Then the spirit left
him, saying, "Help is near." The Kiowa insist that all this was not a
dream or vision, but an actual waking occurrence; but of course most of
it was the delirium of fever.
As his comrades proceeded on their way, they met six Comanche warriors
on their way to Mexico, to whom they told the story of their encounter,
also that they would find Koñáte's dead body at the spring, and asked
them to cover it from the wolves. Then they parted, the Kiowa continuing
on to the northward, while the Comanche proceeded toward the spring,
where they intended to camp for the night. On arriving, they were
astonished to find Koñáte alive and in somewhat better condition than
when his comrades had left him. Seeing that there was a chance of saving
his life, the Comanche washed his wounds and fed him; next morning they
put him upon one of their extra horses, and abandoning their proposed
raid turned back and brought him safely to his friends and tribe, where
he fully recovered and lived for many years. A few years after his
return, he made several shields, as directed by the _taíme_, one of
which still exists in possession of Dr J. D. Glennan, U.S.A., now
stationed at Fort Clark, Texas; he also made the sacred _ä´poto_, which
he carried for some time in the annual sun dance, and afterward bestowed
it upon his son (i. e., nephew) K`ayä´ñti, who still lives, now an old
man. Koñáte subsequently assumed the name, of Pá-tadal, "Lean-bull,"
which he conferred later on its present owner, commonly known to the
whites as Poor-buffalo.
Captain Pope, who visited the Hueco tanks in 1854, describes the
peculiar formation of the cave springs and mentions the Gúadalóñte fight
of some years before, his statements being evidently derived from the
Mexicans, who were disposed to magnify their own part in the affair. He
says:
Besides the water contained in the tanks there are numerous holes
and crevices in the mountains, which contain sufficient for every
purpose to last for a considerable time. It is proper to remark
that animals can not drink from the tanks; the water is taken out
in buckets and thrown down the rocks until all have been supplied.
Thus watering is a matter of time and labor. The peculiar formation
of these mountains, their innumerable caverns and hiding places,
seem to have been intended for a refuge for the Indians; nor have
they neglected to avail themselves of its advantages. In one
instance, however, they "reckoned without their host." About
fourteen years ago these Arabs of New Mexico, the Apaches, having
made a desperate foray upon the Mexicans, retreated with their
plunder to these mountains. The Mexicans surprised and surrounded
them, hemming them up in the rocky ravine forming the eastern tank.
Here an engagement took place, in which the Indians were totally
defeated and nearly exterminated, only two or three escaping. It is
said that upward of one hundred of them were killed (_Pacific
Railroad, 1_).
[Illustration: FIG. 122--Winter 1857-58--Horses stolen.]
WINTER 1857-58
The Kiowa camped this winter on Two-butte creek (_Ä´zót P'a_, "Driftwood
creek"), a southern tributary of the Arkansas, below Bent's Fort in
Colorado. A band of Pawnee came on foot and stole six bunches of horses,
including all those of T'ébodal and Set-ängya; among them were three
spotted mules. The Kiowa pursued the thieves for three days and came in
sight of them at sunset; they intended to strike them next morning and
get the stock, but that night a snowstorm came on and stopped the
pursuit; however, they killed one Pawnee who had been crippled by the
cold. The figure above the winter mark represents the stolen horses.
SUMMER 1858
_Ädo-byúñi K`ádó_, "Timber-circle sun dance." This dance was held on
lower Mule creek, entering the Salt fork of the Arkansas from the
north, near the mouth of Medicine-lodge creek; it was so called because
held in a natural circular opening in the timber, as indicated in the
figure representing a circle of trees around the medicine lodge.
[Illustration: FIG. 123--Summer 1858--Timber-circle sun dance.]
WINTER 1858-59
_Gúi-k`áte Ehótal-de Sai_, "Winter that Wolf-lying-down was killed." The
figure above the winter mark represents a man shot through the body, his
name being indicated by the connected figure overhead.
After the last sun dance, the Kiowa warriors made a great raid into
Chihuahua and captured a number of horses. They had recrossed the Rio
Grande and camped on the northern side, when they were attacked at
sunrise by a pursuing party of Mexicans. The Indians fled and escaped,
excepting Gúi-k`áte, "Wolf-lying-down," who rode a mare which was
delayed by a colt in following, and was therefore unable to get away
from the enemy, who shot and killed him.
Set-t'aiñte and Set-ĭmkía also went against the Ute this fall and found
and attacked a single tipi on the upper South Canadian, killing one man
and wounding several others.
[Illustration: FIG. 124--Winter 1858-59--Gúi-k`áte killed.]
SUMMER 1859
_Ahíñ-dóha K`adó_, "Cedar-bluff sun dance." The figure at the side of
the medicine lodge is intended to represent a cedar tree on a bluff.
This dance was held at a place known to the Kiowa as "Cedar bluff," on
the northern side of Smoky-hill river (_Pe P'a_, "Sand river"), about
opposite the mouth of Timber creek, near the present Fort Hays, Kansas.
The Kiowa state that they went so far north on account of the abundance
of buffalo in that vicinity. This dance is sometimes also called
_Ää'otón-de K`adó_, "Timber-clearing sun dance," from the fact that most
of the trees once there had been cut down.
[Illustration: FIG. 125--Summer 1859--Cedar-bluff sun dance.]
WINTER 1859-60
Gíaká-ite, "Back-hide," died, and a cross was afterward erected over his
bones. The figure of the individual, with the cross above his head,
explains itself. The _gíăká-i_ or "back hide" (see the Glossary) is a
piece of rawhide worn over the shoulders by women, to protect the back
when carrying wood or other burdens.
Gíaká-ite was a very old man, and died on the Staked plain (_Päsä´ngya_,
"Edge prairie"), at a salt pond called _Tóñ-kóñ_, "Black water," perhaps
the Agua Negra, just within the Texas boundary. Having become so old and
enfeebled in mind and body as to be a continual source of trouble and
anxiety, his unfeeling relatives deliberately abandoned him. Shortly
before this the old man asked Dohasän, who was of his own family, where
they intended to camp next winter. The chief brutally replied, "What is
that to you? We shall not take you with us." The poor old man, thinking
it a joke, laughed and said, "How can you leave me behind? There are not
many chiefs, and you can't afford to lose one." However, on their next
move they left him behind to shift for himself, and as he was too feeble
to keep up with the party he died alone. Whether he died a lingering
death of starvation or met a quicker fate by the coyotes, is unknown;
but some time afterward a small war party of the Kiowa, passing near the
spot, found his skeleton, over which kind hands--probably Mexican
travelers--had erected a rude cross.
[Illustration: FIG. 126--Winter 1859-60--Gíaká-ite died.]
The winter before his death, while the Kiowa were on the move somewhere
in the same neighborhood, Âdalpepte and his wife, being some distance
behind the others, met the old man mounted upon an animal nearly as
feeble as its rider, vainly endeavoring to catch up with the main party.
It was bitterly cold and he had no blanket. Âdalpepte, unable to endure
the sight, generously took off his own buffalo robe and threw it over
the old man's shoulders, saying to him, "Take it; I am young and can
stand more." Thus, before we make an estimate of Indian character from
this story we must decide how far the generosity of the one act offsets
the heartless cruelty of the other. It is but fair to state that
Gíaká-ite had no immediate relatives who were in condition to help him,
as his children were dead and his grandson was but a small boy, so that
no one felt directly responsible for his welfare. Abandonment of the
aged and helpless was not infrequent among the prairie tribes, but was
rather a hard necessity of their wandering life than deliberate cruelty,
as generally the aged are treated with the greatest respect and
consideration. This is particularly the case among tribes who are less
nomadic in habit.
SUMMER 1860
T'ené-badaí, "Bird-appearing," was killed. The figure shows a man shot
through the body, with blood streaming from his mouth, while the bird
above is intended to indicate his name. As there was no sun dance this
year, the medicine lodge is omitted.
A part of the Kiowa tribe was south of the Arkansas, while the rest,
with the Kwáhadi and other western Comanche, under the chiefs
Täbi-nä´năkă (Hears-the-sun) and Ĭsä-hä´bĭt (Wolf-lying-down), were
camped north of that stream, when one day the latter party discovered a
large body of people crossing the river. Täbi-nä'năka went out to
reconnoiter, and returned with the report that there were a great many
of them and that they were probably enemies. The Kiowa and Comanche at
once broke camp and fled northward, and on their way met the Cheyenne
and Arapaho, to whom they told the news, whereupon the latter also fled
with them. By this time it had been discovered that the pursuers were
white soldiers, accompanied by a large body of Caddo, Wichita, Tonkawa,
and Pénätĕka Comanche. As they fled, the Kiowa and their allies kept
spies on the lookout, who one night reported their enemies asleep, when
they turned and attacked them at daylight, killing a soldier, but losing
a Comanche named Silver-knife (properly Tin-knife, _Hâ´ñt'aiñ-k`á_ in
Kiowa), who was shot through the neck with an arrow, and a Kiowa named
T'ené-badaí, "Bird-appearing," noted for his handsome appearance, who
was killed by a Caddo. The engagement took place in Kansas, somewhere
northward from Smoky-hill river (_Pe P'a_).
[Illustration: FIG. 127--Summer 1860--Bird-appearing killed.]
The Pénätĕka Comanche lived in Texas, near the settlements, and
associated more with the Caddo, Wichita, and whites than with their
western kinsmen, the Kwáhadi Comanche, against whom and their allies,
the Kiowa and Apache, they several times aided the whites.
There is no direct notice of this engagement in the Indian Report, but
the Commissioner states that peace had prevailed among the treaty tribes
during the year, with the conspicuous exception of the Kiowa, whose
increasing turbulence would seem to render military operations against
them advisable. In another place he states that both the Kiowa and
Comanche were known to be hostile, and that the army had been ordered to
chastise them, as the only way to make them respect their engagements
and to stay their murderous hands. In going to Bent's fort, he says:
Citizens of the United States in advance of me as I went out, and
also on my return, were brutally murdered and scalped upon the
road. It is a fact also worthy of remark that the murders were
committed almost within range of the guns at Fort Larned. The
Indian mode of warfare, however, is such that it is almost
impossible to detect them in their designs. They cautiously
approach the Santa Fé road, commit the most atrocious deeds, and
flee to the plains (_Report, 85_).
WINTER 1860-61
This winter is known as _´dálká-i Dóha Sai_, "Crazy-bluff winter."
While the Kiowa were encamped on the south side of the Arkansas, near
the western line of Kansas, a man named Gaá-bohónte, "Crow-bonnet," the
brother of the man who had been killed by the Caddo the preceding
summer, raised a party for revenge. They went to the Caddo camp on the
head of Sugar creek, in the present Caddo and Wichita reservation, where
they encountered a Caddo looking for his horses. They killed and scalped
him, and brought back with them the scalp over which the Kiowa held a
scalp dance at a bluff on the south side of Bear creek (_T'á-zótă´ P'a_,
"Antelope-corral river"), near its head, between the Cimarron and the
Arkansas, near the western line of Kansas. From the rejoicing on this
occasion the place took the name of Foolish, or Crazy bluff.
The picture represents a man with a scalp on a pole, while the
projection at the upper end of the winter mark indicates the bluff.
[Illustration: FIG. 128--Winter 1860--1861--Crazy-bluff winter.]
About the same time a war party went into Texas, but lost three men.
The _zótă´_ or driveway for catching antelope was an open corral of
upright logs, stripped of their branches, with an entrance, from which
diverged two lines of posts set at short distances from one another and
covered with blankets to resemble men. The antelope were surrounded on
the prairie and driven toward the corral until they came between the
converging lines of posts, when it was an easy matter to force them into
the closed circle, where they were slaughtered. The _zótă´_ was used for
catching antelope at any season of the year. It was not used for deer,
as the deer could jump over an ordinary corral.
For a description of another method, the _ät'ákagúa_, or "antelope
medicine," see Winter 1848-49. Antelope make regular trails from their
shelter places to their grazing grounds, and the Indians sometimes
caught them by digging a large pitfall along such a trail--an entire
band assisting in the work--and carrying the excavated earth a long
distance away, so as to leave no trace on the trail, after which the
pitfall was loosely covered with bushes and grass. The hunters then
concealed themselves until the herd approached, when they closed in
behind and drove the frightened animals forward until they fell into the
pit.
Wild horses also were sometimes taken in driveways called
_t'á-tséñ-zótă´_ ("wild-horse driveway"), which were set up near the
water holes in the Staked plain, usually in summer, when the streams
were dry and the animals were obliged to resort to these places for
water. A steep cliff was sometimes utilized to form one side of the
corral or driveway. In hunting buffalo the Indians sometimes built
converging leadways to the edge of a cliff and then drove the animals
over the precipice.
SUMMER 1861
_T'óigúăt Äpäñ´tsep-de K`ádó_, "Sun dance when they left the spotted
horse tied." The picture shows the spotted or pinto horse tied to the
medicine lodge.
This dance was held near a canyon, on the south bank of upper Walnut
creek, entering the Arkansas at the Great Bend in Kansas. The event
recorded throws another curious light on Indian belief. At the sun dance
no one but the _taíme_ priest must attempt any "medicine," but on this
occasion a man called Dogúatal-edal, "Big-young-man," became "crazy" and
committed sacrilegious acts, tearing off his feather headdress and
throwing it upon the _taíme_ image, and afterward, when they were
smoking to the sun, taking the pipe and throwing it away. No reason is
given for these strange actions, except that he was temporarily crazy,
as he had never acted strangely before, but the Indians believe that, as
his conscience troubled him after he came to his senses, he gave this
horse to the _taíme_ as an atonement. At the close of the dance he tied
a spotted horse to one of the poles inside the medicine lodge and left
it there, where it probably died. Such a thing as tying a horse to the
medicine lodge had never before been heard of, although a horse was
sometimes sacrificed to the sun by tying it to a tree out upon the hills
and leaving it there to perish. The old war chief Gaápiatañ twice
sacrificed a horse in this manner, once during the cholera of 1849, when
he offered a gray horse as a propitiatory sacrifice for himself, his
parents, and brothers and sisters; also again, in the smallpox epidemic
of 1861-62 (see next year), he offered a fine black-eared horse,
hobbling it and tying it to a tree, with a prayer to the spirit of the
disease to take his horse and spare himself and his children and
friends. On both occasions his faith appears to have been rewarded, as
none of his relatives died. The horse offered on this last occasion was
of the kind called _t'á-kóñ_, "black-eared," considered by the Kiowa to
be the finest of all horses.
[Illustration: FIG. 129--Summer 1861--Pinto left tied.]
Dogúatal-édal afterward led a small war party, seven in number,
including one woman, into Mexico. None of them ever returned, all the
warriors having been killed, probably by Ute warriors, among whom the
woman was found living by Big-bow and his companions when they visited
that tribe in 1894. It was on this occasion that the Kiowa tribe gained
the first intimation concerning the fate of the party. The woman was
then the wife of a Ute and the mother of three of his children. Big-bow
wanted her to return home with them, especially as her son by her Kiowa
husband was still living, but her Ute husband was unwilling to come, and
she refused to leave him and her three other children.
WINTER 1861-62
_Tä´dalkop Sai_, "Smallpox winter." The smallpox, like the measles, is
indicated by a human figure covered with red spots (see 1839-40 and
1892). The Kiowa were camped for the winter about the Arkansas, in the
vicinity of _Âdalka-i Doha_, in southwestern Kansas, and a party went
into New Mexico to trade. They stopped at a town in the mountains at the
head of the South Canadian, where smallpox was prevalent at the time,
and the people warned them of the danger; they therefore left, but one
Kiowa had already bought a blanket, which he refused to throw away,
although requested to do so. On returning to their home camp, about New
Year, he was attacked by the disease and died, and the epidemic spread
through the tribe; many died, and the others scattered in various
directions to escape the pestilence. The Cheyenne, Arapaho, Dakota, and
other tribes also suffered greatly at the same time, as appears from the
official report (_Report, 86_). It was in consequence of this epidemic
that the Arikara abandoned their village lower down the Missouri and
removed to their present location near Fort Berthold, North Dakota.
[Illustration: FIG. 130--Winter 1861-62--Smallpox.]
It will be noticed that for several years the Kiowa appear to have been
drifting eastward from their former haunts on the upper Arkansas.
Although no definite reason is assigned for this movement, it may have
been due to the influx of white men into Colorado, consequent upon the
discovery of gold at Pike's peak in 1858, which would have a tendency to
drive away the buffalo as well as to disquiet the Indians.
SUMMER 1862
_Tä´dalkop Kyäkán K'ádó_, "sun dance after the smallpox," or sometimes
simply _Tä´dalkop K'ádó_, "smallpox sun dance." It was held a short
distance west of where the sun dance had been held in 1858, on Mule
creek, near the junction of Medicine-lodge creek with the Salt fork of
the Arkansas. No event of importance marked this summer, which is
indicated only by the medicine lodge.
[Illustration: FIG. 131--Summer 1862--Sun dance after smallpox.]
WINTER 1862-63