_Journey to the Grand Pawnee Village.—Old Indian Female.—Chief’s
Lodge.—Indian Feasts.—Kioway Female._
As soon as we emerged from the crowd that had surrounded us, we perceived
the plain between us and the village swarming with the rest of its
inhabitants. It appeared as if every man, woman, and child had looked
upon the day of our arrival, as one of jubilee. The boys had thrown aside
their bows and arrows, the females had abandoned their drudgery, and the
old men had ceased their songs of former victories, to paint themselves
up for the festival. The reception was over, and all the requisite awe of
their nation had been impressed upon us. They now threw aside the stern,
unbending character of the Indian warrior, and pressed round us with all
the kind hospitality of hosts, in receiving their most welcome guests.
Small bands of young men amused themselves by dashing around the party,
at the full speed of their horses, and attempting to oust each other from
their saddles by the violent collision of their animals. Occasionally a
few would start off in a race across the plain, whooping and screaming,
and clattering their arms in the ears of their steeds, to excite them
even beyond the mad rate at which they were careering.
Others of the young men hung round the party, making their remarks on its
different members, and occasionally exciting loud peals of laughter from
their comrades. These however were frequently cut short by a stern word
from one of the chiefs.
The whole road from the plain to the village, was lined with women and
children. They had not dared to approach during the formalities of our
reception, but now eagerly pressed forward to gaze upon so unwonted a
sight as that of a white stranger entering freely into their village.
Besides this they were all anxious to gratify that curiosity which is
peculiarly strong in the bosom of an Indian—especially a female.
They were nearly all mounted upon little stiff-maned drudge horses of the
village, sometimes singly, but generally in clusters of two or three.
In particular, one withered, gray-headed old squaw, with a family of
four children under her charge, attracted our attention. She was mounted
upon a little wall-eyed, cream-coloured pony, with a roach mane and a
bob-tail. There was a lurking devil looking out of his half-closed eye,
the very antipodes of his rider, who sat upon his back like the picture
of Patience. Her charge she had arranged, as well as could be expected
from a person in her situation. One little fellow, whose eyes gleamed
like sparks of fire, from beneath the long tangled hair, which nearly
covered his face, was striding almost upon the neck of the horse, armed
with a heavy Indian whip. One little one was dozing in her arms, another
was clinging tightly to her back. The face of a fourth, like the head of
a caterpillar, just ready to emerge from a cocoon, was peering from the
mouth of a leather bag, fastened between her shoulders.
But though the woman thus scrupulously divided the burden with her steed,
he seemed far from satisfied with his situation, and at last determined
to rid himself of his encumbrance.
Tossing his head in the air, he commenced waltzing, and capering round
upon his hind feet, to the great discomfiture of the squaw. In great
tribulation she reached out both hands, and clung with might and main to
the high pommel of the Indian pack-saddle, while two of the children,
left to their own guidance, clung like monkeys round her body.
The horse, finding that the first experiment had not succeeded to his
satisfaction, altered his plan of action. He planted his fore feet firmly
upon the sod, and flourished his heels as high in the air as his head
was the moment before. Still his rider continued to cling to the saddle,
making use of every expression of Indian objurgation and soothing, in a
vain appeal to the sensibilities of the restive animal. There was one,
however, evidently delighted with his capers; this was the naked little
elf perched upon his neck, who evidently aided and abetted the mutiny by
a sudden switch of his whip—occasionally casting back his sly, laughing
black eye upon the chattering old lady and her screaming brood.
At last the animal finding that no physical force of his could free
his back from the burden, came to the conclusion that the less time he
spent in accomplishing his journey the shorter would be his ordeal. So
he started off at a full gallop for the village, and we caught our last
glimpse of him as he dashed between the lodges, urged on by the lash of
his imp-like little rider.
When the party had once commenced its march, it was not long before they
reached the point of destination; for though the Indians crowded forward
to satisfy their curiosity, they remained at such a distance as to
offer no obstacle to our progress. This rule of etiquette was, however,
occasionally transgressed by troops of untrimmed, goblin-looking little
urchins who hung upon the heels of the party. They crowded around the
baggage wagons, and gazed with a mixture of terror and wild delight upon
the oxen, who, with lolling tongues and reeling steps, were, almost inch
by inch, winning their way to the village.
Several times when a circle of little curious faces, anxious to see, but
ready to run, had formed around the team, a sharp, shrill scream from
some more mischievous of the gang, would in an instant disperse all their
rallied courage, and send them scampering at full speed over the prairie.
Another grand object of attraction was _the Black Bear_, who trudged in
front, surrounded by a rabble crowd of women and children. From the first
moment of our arrival he had been an object of intense curiosity, and
had been gazed at with a mixture of fear and astonishment by the whole
nation. But there is an old saying that “too much familiarity breeds
contempt;” and in this case it was verified. By degrees, the circle
which formed around him at a respectful distance, became more and more
compressed. It was in vain that he attempted to rid himself of their
company; they swarmed around him like ants. If he quickened his pace,
they did the same; if he lingered, they were equally slow; and if he
turned upon them, they scattered in every direction. But after a while,
even this wore off, and they finally hemmed him in, so that it was almost
impossible to move for the crowd. When they had thus closed upon him,
the lurking spirit of mischief began to show itself. They tugged at his
coat tail, they pulled his pantaloons, and they jostled him until the
perspiration, the effect of fear and exertion, poured in streams down his
face. At length one toothless, gray-headed old crone, attracted by the
glistening appearance of his black leather cap, made a violent snatch,
and seized hold of it. A hot scramble ensued for the prize, which, after
much derangement to the wardrobe of the negro, was obtained by the
rightful owner. He had no sooner regained his property, than he opened
his shirt, and placed it next his bosom. He then buttoned his coat over
it up to the chin, evincing his respect to the nation by performing the
rest of his journey _uncovered_.
We found that the Pawnee village had been rebuilt since it was burnt by
the Delawares. It is situate in the open prairie, at the foot of a long
range of hills, and within about fifty yards of the Platte. The river at
this place is about two miles broad, and very shallow, being constantly
forded by the squaws, who visit the different islands, and obtain from
them the only fuel and building materials, to be found in this part of
the country.
The lodges are numerous, and stand close together, without the least
regard to regularity. They are built in the same way as those in the Otoe
village.
On account of the scarcity of wood, several families congregate together
in the same lodge. The male portion pass the whole day, lounging and
sleeping around, or gorging themselves from the large kettle filled with
buffalo flesh, which is perpetually over the fire.
As we entered the village, the tops of the lodges were completely covered
with women and children, and the area in front of the chief’s dwelling
was equally crowded. When we reached the front, the chief, who had ridden
in advance of the party, stepped from the dark passage which formed the
entrance to his abode, to meet us. He was completely enveloped in a
robe of white wolf skin, upon which was painted a hieroglyphic account
of his warlike achievements. Upon the approach of Mr. E——, he advanced
towards him, and taking the robe from his shoulders, presented it to
him, requesting him (through the interpreter) to keep it for his sake.
He then ushered the party into his dwelling, and pointed out the place
allotted for the reception of the contents of the wagons. After this he
called together a number of Indians, and gave them directions to assist
in unloading. He stood at the door, watching their movements, to prevent
any attempt at purloining—a crime too common among the lower classes of
an Indian village.
Nearly half an hour elapsed in this way, during which time the lodge
was becoming more and more crowded. One dusky form after another glided
with a noiseless step over the threshold, moving across to the darkest
corners of the lodge. Here they seated themselves upon the ground, and
shrouded their shaggy robes around them, so as completely to screen the
lower part of their faces. As they fixed their unwavering gaze upon us
from the dark parts of the building their eyes seemed to shine out like
glowing balls of phosphorus.
Not a word was spoken—no undertoned conversation was carried on—all was
silence, save the hurried footsteps of those who were busied according to
the directions of the chief. No jests were uttered, for we were now under
the roof of their leader, and any word spoken in derogation of his guests
would have called down instant punishment.
Upon our entrance into the lodge, a large kettle had been filled with
buffalo flesh and hard corn, and placed over the fire. When we were
fairly settled in our abode, and the bustle of unloading had in a
measure passed away, the wife of the chief (by-the-by he had five of
them) poured the whole of its contents into a large wooden bowl. She then
armed each of us with a black dipper made of buffalo horn, and made signs
for us to commence.
We did not wait for a second invitation, but immediately, with both
fingers and dippers, attacked the mountain of food before us. We had not
eaten since daylight; it was now late in the day; and the appetites of
the party, never particularly delicate, having increased in proportion to
the length of their fast, the devastation was enormous. But every excess
brings with it its own punishment; and our case was not an exception to
the general rule. Scarce had we finished, when a little Indian boy, half
covered with a tattered buffalo skin, forced his way into the lodge,
elbowing in among the warriors with all that transient air of consequence
worn by _little_ characters when charged with some mission of importance.
He came to the side of the chief, who was sitting near us, with his legs
doubled under him, after the Turkish fashion, and whispered in his ear.
The chief rose, and announced that the Long Hair, the second warrior
of the village, had prepared a feast in honour of our arrival, and was
waiting for us to come and partake. There was some demurring as to the
acceptance of this invitation. The Interpreter, however, informed us
that there was no resource, as eating your way into the good will of
the savages, is necessary to the success of an Indian treaty. It was
useless to plead that we had already eaten sufficient, for that is a
thing incredible to an Indian, who always carries with him an appetite
proportioned to the quantity to be eaten, and the opportunity of doing
so. Let the latter come as often as it may, it invariably finds him
prepared.
After some consultation, seeing no remedy, we left the lodge, and
followed our little guide through the intricacies of the village, to
the dwelling of the Long Hair. When we entered he was sitting upon the
ground, and motioned us to a seat upon some dirty cushions of undressed
hides. He was a stern, gloomy looking man, with an anxious, wrinkled
brow, a mouth like iron, and an eye like fire. He evidently made efforts
to be sociable; but it was not in his nature; and during the whole feast,
the stern, unbending character of the Indian warrior, was continually
peering out from beneath the show of hospitality. He urged us to eat,
and he even attempted to smile; but it more resembled the angry snarl of
a wild-cat, than the evidence of any pleasurable emotion. In short, we
liked him not, and hurried through our feast as soon as possible. When
we had finished, and while a number of the party were smoking, in turn,
from a large red stone pipe, which he passed round, the Doctor rose and
slowly sauntered round the lodge. He at length observed a small bundle of
bones, and skin, which hung from a pole crossing the centre of the lodge.
Curious to know what it might contain, he reached out his hand to take
hold of it. From the moment that he had left his seat, the brow of the
chief had darkened, but he said nothing; contenting himself by narrowly
watching the motions of his guest;—but no sooner had he touched the
bundle, than the effect upon the frame of the Indian was like an electric
shock. He half started from his seat; the veins on his forehead swelled
like whipcord; and his eyes shot fire.—With clenched fists and extended
arms, he shrieked out something between a yell and an imprecation. The
secret was soon explained by the frightened Interpreter. The bundle
that had attracted the curiosity of the Doctor, was the medicine bag[B]
of the lodge. To disturb this is one of the greatest outrages that can
be inflicted upon the superstitious feelings of an Indian. At another
time, the Doctor might have paid dearly for his rashness. As it was, at
the earnest solicitations of the Interpreter, he resumed his seat, and
the anger of the chief passed away. Shortly after this, another courier
arrived to invite us to a third feast; and taking our leave, we followed
him. This feast was exactly the same as the former. Before we had
finished, invitation after invitation came pouring in upon us, until we
had visited about ten or fifteen lodges. One after another, the different
members of the party then gave out, and returned to the abode of the
chief.
[B] Every lodge in an Indian village contains what is called its Medicine
Bag, which is hung up in the most conspicuous place, and regarded with
the greatest veneration, not only by the inhabitants of that individual
lodge, but by the whole tribe. Little is known of their contents, as
they are seldom opened, and always with the greatest formalities. On
these occasions, all possible care is taken to exclude strangers, whose
presence or interference is regarded as a certain source of future
misfortune.
Upon our return, Mr. E—— assembled the different warriors, and after some
consultation, the following day was appointed for holding a council, to
agree upon the terms of the treaty.
When this was settled, the chief turned and spoke a few words to the
heralds.[C] They immediately started through the village, proclaiming
the time appointed for the council.
[C] These heralds are self-elected, and are composed of the oldest men in
the village, who run through the town to spread the orders of the chief.
When no such service is required, they amuse themselves by stalking round
the village, yelling out advice to the young men, with voices which may
be heard at the distance of a mile, but which, as far as I was able to
judge, was but little attended to.
While Mr. E—— was thus engaged, the rest of the party drew round the
fire, to discuss the different events of the day. The bear-skin, forming
the inner door of the lodge, was slowly raised, and a female stepped
timidly in, and moved rapidly, and evidently with a desire to escape
observation, into the darkest part of the lodge. Her whole appearance
bespoke her a stranger. She was beautiful; and though a timid being,
moved with the step of a queen. She was the wife of the Kioway Indian,
and her dress was of a richness corresponding with his. A bright band of
silver was fastened round her neck; a small jacket of scarlet cloth,
the spoil of some pillaged caravan, edged with silver lace and beads,
was secured round her waist and breast, with scarlet ribands, and a long
garment of blue cloth enveloped the rest of her form. Like her husband,
she wore medals of silver upon her breast, and bracelets of the same upon
her wrists. Her mocassins, also, were more finely ornamented than those
of the Pawnee women, who were seated around.
From the moment of her entrance, she became the object of attraction
to all eyes. Observing this, she withdrew into one of the berths, and
dropping in front of her a screen of grass matting, remained there for
the rest of the day.