Seminole Society.
As I now direct attention to the Florida Seminole in their relations
with one another, I shall first treat of that relationship which lies
at the foundation of society, marriage or its equivalent, the result
of which is a body of people more or less remotely connected with one
another and designated by the term "kindred." This is shown either in
the narrow limits of what may be named the family or in the larger
bounds of what is called the clan or gens. I attempted to get full
insight into the system of relationships in which Seminole kinship is
embodied, and, while my efforts were not followed by an altogether
satisfactory result, I saw enough to enable me to say that the Seminole
relationships are essentially those of what we may call their "mother
tribe," the Creek. The Florida Seminole are a people containing, to some
extent, the posterity of tribes diverse from the Creek in language and
in social and political organization; but so strong has the Creek
influence been in their development that the Creek language, Creek
customs, and Creek regulations have been the guiding forces in their
history, forces by which, in fact, the characteristics of the other
peoples have yielded, have been practically obliterated.
I have made a careful comparison of the terms of Seminole relationship I
obtained with those of the Creek Indians, embodied in Dr. L. H. Morgan's
Consanguinity and Affinity of the American Indians, and I find that, as
far as I was able to go, they are the same, allowing for the natural
differences of pronunciation of the two peoples. The only seeming
difference of relationships lies in the names applied to some of the
lineal descendants, descriptive instead of classificatory names being
used.
I have said, "as far as I was able to go." I found, for example, that
beyond the second collateral line among consanguineous kindred my
interpreter would answer my question only by some such answer as "I
don't know" or "No kin," and that, beyond the first collateral line of
kindred by marriage, except for a very few relationships, I could obtain
no answer.
The Seminole Family.
The family consists of the husband, one or more wives, and their
children. I do not know what limit tribal law places to the number of
wives the Florida Indian may have, but certainly he may possess two.
There are several Seminole families in which duogamy exists.
Courtship.
I learned the following facts concerning the formation of a family:
A young warrior, at the age of twenty or less, sees an Indian maiden of
about sixteen years, and by a natural impulse desires to make her his
wife. What follows? He calls his immediate relatives to a council and
tells them of his wish. If the damsel is not a member of the lover's
own gens and if no other impediment stands in the way of the proposed
alliance, they select, from their own number, some who, at an
appropriate time, go to the maiden's kindred and tell them that they
desire the maid to receive their kinsman as her husband. The girl's
relatives then consider the question. If they decide in favor of the
union, they interrogate the prospective bride as to her disposition
towards the young man. If she also is willing, news of the double
consent is conveyed through the relatives, on both sides, to the
prospective husband. From that moment there is a gentle excitement in
both households. The female relatives of the young man take to the house
of the betrothed's mother a blanket or a large piece of cotton cloth and
a bed canopy--in other words, the furnishing of a new bed. Thereupon
there is returned thence to the young man a wedding costume, consisting
of a newly made shirt.
Marriage.
Arrangements for the marriage being thus completed, the marriage takes
place by the very informal ceremony of the going of the bridegroom, at
sunset of an appointed day, to the home of his mother-in-law, where he
is received by his bride. From that time he is her husband. The next
day, husband and wife appear together in the camp, and are thenceforth
recognized as a wedded pair. After the marriage, through what is the
equivalent of the white man's honeymoon, and often for a much longer
period, the new couple remain at the home of the mother-in-law. It is
the man and not the woman among these Indians who leaves father and
mother and cleaves unto the mate. After a time, especially as the family
increases, the wedded pair build one or more houses for independent
housekeeping, either at the camp of the wife's mother or elsewhere,
excepting among the husband's relatives.
Divorce.
The home may continue until death breaks it up. Sometimes, however,
it occurs that most hopeful matrimonial beginnings, among the Florida
Seminole, as elsewhere, end in disappointment and ruin. How divorce
is accomplished I could not learn. I pressed the question upon
Ko-nip-ha-tco, but his answer was, "Me don't know; Indian no tell me
much." All the light I obtained upon the subject comes from Billy's
first reply, "He left her." In fact, desertion seems to be the only
ceremony accompanying a divorce. The husband, no longer satisfied with
his wife, leaves her; she returns to her family, and the matter is
ended. There is no embarrassment growing out of problems respecting the
woman's future support, the division of property, or the adjustment of
claims for the possession of the children. The independent self-support
of every adult, healthy Indian, female as well as male, and the gentile
relationship, which is more wide reaching and authoritative than that
of marriage, have already disposed of these questions, which are usually
so perplexing for the white man. So far as personal maintenance is
concerned, a woman is, as a rule, just as well off without a husband
as with one. What is hers, in the shape of property, remains her own
whether she is married or not. In fact, marriage among these Indians
seems to be but the natural mating of the sexes, to cease at the option
of either of the interested parties. Although I do not know that the
wife may lawfully desert her husband, as well as the husband his wife,
from some facts learned I think it probable that she may.
Childbirth.
According to information received a prospective mother, as the hour of
her confinement approaches, selects a place for the birth of her child
not far from the main house of the family, and there, with some friends,
builds a small lodge, covering the top and sides of the structure
generally with the large leaves of the cabbage palmetto. To this
secluded place the woman, with some elderly female relatives, goes at
the time the child is to be born, and there, in a sitting posture, her
hands grasping a strong stick driven into the ground before her, she
is delivered of her babe, which is received and cared for by her
companions. Rarely is the Indian mother's labor difficult or followed by
a prolonged sickness. Usually she returns to her home with her little
one within four days after its birth.
[Illustration: Fig. 66. Baby cradle or hammock.]
Infancy.
The baby, well into the world, learns very quickly that he is to make
his own way through it as best he may. His mother is prompt to nourish
him and solicitous in her care for him if he falls ill, but, as far as
possible, she goes her own way and leaves the little fellow to go his.
From the first she gives her child the perfectly free use of his body
and, within a limited area, of the camp ground. She does not bundle him
into a motionless thing or bind him helplessly on a board; on the
contrary, she does not trouble her child even with clothing. The Florida
Indian baby, when very young, spends his time, naked, in a hammock, or
on a deer skin, or on the warm earth. (Fig. 66.)
The Seminole mother, I was informed, is not in the habit of soothing
her baby with song. Nevertheless, sometimes one may hear her or an old
grandam crooning a monotonous refrain as she crouches on the ground
beside the swinging hammock of a baby. I heard one of these refrains,
and, as nearly as I could catch it, it ran thus:
[Illustration: Music]
No-wut-tca, No-wut-tca.
The hammock was swung in time with the song. The singing was slow in
movement and nasal in quality. The last note was unmusical and uttered
quite staccato.
There are times, to be sure, when the Seminole mother carries her baby.
He is not always left to his pleasure on the ground or in a hammock.
When there is no little sister or old grandmother to look after the
helpless creature and the mother is forced to go to any distance from
her house or lodge, she takes him with her. This she does, usually, by
setting him astride one of her hips and holding him there. If she wishes
to have both her arms free, however, she puts the baby into the center
of a piece of cotton cloth, ties opposite corners of the cloth together,
and slings her burden over her shoulders and upon her back, where, with
his brown legs astride his mother's hips, the infant rides, generally
with much satisfaction. I remember seeing, one day, one jolly little
fellow, lolling and rollicking on his mother's back, kicking her and
tugging away at the strings of beads which hung temptingly between her
shoulders, while the mother, hand-free, bore on one shoulder a log,
which, a moment afterwards, still keeping her baby on her back as she
did so, she chopped into small wood for the camp fire.
Childhood.
But just as soon as the Seminole baby has gained sufficient strength to
toddle he learns that the more he can do for himself and the more he can
contribute to the general domestic welfare the better he will get along
in life. No small amount of the labor in a Seminole household is done by
children, even as young as four years of age. They can stir the soup
while it is boiling; they can aid in kneading the dough for bread;
they can wash the "Koonti" root, and even pound it; they can watch and
replenish the fire; they contribute in this and many other small ways to
the necessary work of the home. I am not to be understood, of course, as
saying that the little Seminole's life is one of severe labor. He has
plenty of time for games and play of all kinds, and of these I shall
hereafter speak. Yet, as soon as he is able to play, he finds that with
his play he must mix work in considerable measure.
Seminole Dwellings--I-Ful-Lo-Ha-Tco's House.
Now that we have seen the Seminole family formed, let us look at its
home. The Florida Indians are not nomads. They have fixed habitations:
settlements in well defined districts, permanent camps, houses or
wigwams which, remain from year to year the abiding places of their
families, and gardens and fields which for indefinite periods are used
by the same owners. There are times during the year when parties gather
into temporary camps for a few weeks. Now perhaps they gather upon some
rich Koonti ground, that they may dig an extra quantity of this root and
make flour from it; now, that they may have a sirup making festival,
they go to some fertile sugar cane hammock; or again, that they may have
a hunt, they camp where a certain kind of game has been discovered in
abundance. And they all, as a rule, go to a central point, once a year
and share there their great feast, the Green Corn Dance. Besides, as I
was told, these Indians are frequent visitors to one another, acting in
turn as guests and hosts for a few days at a time. But it is the fact,
nevertheless, that for much the greater part of the year the Seminole
families are at their homes, occupying houses, surrounded by many
comforts and living a life of routine industry.
As one Seminole home is, with but few unimportant differences, like
nearly all the others, we can get a good idea of what it is by
describing here the first one I visited, that of I-ful-lo-ha-tco, or
"Charlie Osceola," in the "Bad Country," on the edge of the Big Cypress
Swamp.
When my guide pointed out to me the locality where "Charlie" lives, I
could see nothing but a wide saw-grass marsh surrounding a small island.
The island seemed covered with a dense growth of palmetto and other
trees and tangled shrubbery, with a few banana plants rising among
them. No sign of human habitation was visible. This invisibility
of a Seminole's house from the vicinity may be taken as a marked
characteristic of his home. If possible, he hides his house, placing
it on an island and in a jungle. As we neared the hammock we found that
approach to it was difficult. On horseback there was no trouble in
getting through the water and the annoying saw-grass, but I found it
difficult to reach the island with my vehicle, which was loaded with our
provisions and myself. On the shore of "Charlie's" island is a piece of
rich land of probably two acres in extent. At length I landed, and soon,
to my surprise, entered a small, neat clearing, around which were built
three houses, excellent of their kind, and one insignificant structure.
Beyond these, well fenced with palmetto logs, lay a small garden. No one
of the entire household--father, mother, and child--was at home. Where
they had gone we did not learn until later. We found them next day at a
sirup making at "Old Tommy's" field, six miles away. Having, in the
absence of the owner, a free range of the camp, I busied myself in
noting what had been left in it and what were its peculiarities. Among
the first things I picked up was a "cow's horn."
This, my guide informed me, was used in calling from camp to camp.
Mounting a pile of logs, "Billy" tried with it to summon "Charlie,"
thinking he might be somewhere near. Meanwhile I continued my search.
I noticed some terrapin shells lying on a platform in one of the houses,
the breast shell pierced with two holes. "Wear them at Green Corn
Dance," said "Billy." I caught sight of some dressed buckskins lying on
a rafter of a house, and an old fashioned rifle, with powder horn and
shot flask. I also saw a hoe; a deep iron pot; a mortar, made from a
live oak (?) log, probably fifteen inches in diameter and twenty-four in
height, and beside it a pestle, made from mastic wood, perhaps four feet
and a half in length.
A bag of corn hung from a rafter, and near it a sack of clothing, which
I did not examine. A skirt, gayly ornamented, hung there also. There
were several basketware sieves, evidently home made, and various bottles
lying around the place. I did not search among the things laid away on
the rafters under the roof. A sow, with several pigs, lay contentedly
under the platform of one of the houses. And near by, in the saw-grass,
was moored a cypress "dug-out," about fifteen feet long, pointed at bow
and stern.
Dwellings throughout the Seminole district are practically uniform in
construction. With but slight variations, the accompanying sketch of
I-ful-lo-ha-tco's main dwelling shows what style of architecture
prevails in the Florida Everglades. (Pl. XIX.)
This house is approximately 16 by 9 feet in ground measurement, made
almost altogether, if not wholly, of materials taken from the palmetto
tree. It is actually but a platform elevated about three feet from the
ground and covered with a palmetto thatched roof, the roof being not
more than 12 feet above the ground at the ridge pole, or 7 at the eaves.
Eight upright palmetto logs, unsplit and undressed, support the roof.
Many rafters sustain the palmetto thatching. The platform is composed of
split palmetto logs lying transversely, flat sides up, upon beams which
extend the length of the building and are lashed to the uprights by
palmetto ropes, thongs, or trader's ropes. This platform is peculiar,
in that it fills the interior of the building like a floor and serves to
furnish the family with a dry sitting or lying down place when, as often
happens, the whole region is under water. The thatching of the roof is
quite a work of art: inside, the regularity and compactness of the
laying of the leaves display much skill and taste on the part of the
builder; outside--with the outer layers there seems to have been less
care taken than with those within--the mass of leaves of which the roof
is composed is held in place and made firm by heavy logs, which, bound
together in pairs, are laid upon it astride the ridge. The covering is,
I was informed, water tight and durable and will resist even a violent
wind. Only hurricanes can tear it off, and these are so infrequent in
Southern Florida that no attempt is made to provide against them.
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XIX
Seminole Dwelling.]
The Seminole's house is open on all sides and without rooms. It is, in
fact, only a covered platform. The single equivalent for a room in it is
the space above the joists which are extended across the building at the
lower edges of the roof. In this are placed surplus food and general
household effects out of use from time to time. Household utensils are
usually suspended from the uprights of the building and from pronged
sticks driven into the ground near by at convenient places.
From this description the Seminole's house may seem a poor kind of
structure to use as a dwelling; yet if we take into account the climate
of Southern Florida nothing more would seem to be necessary. A shelter
from the hot sun and the frequent rains and a dry floor above the damp
or water covered ground are sufficient for the Florida Indian's needs.
I-ful-lo-ha-tco's three houses are placed at three corners of an oblong
clearing, which is perhaps 40 by 30 feet. At the fourth corner is the
entrance into the garden, which is in shape an ellipse, the longer
diameter being about 25 feet. The three houses are alike, with the
exception that in one of them the elevated platform is only half the
size of those of the others. This difference seems to have been made on
account of the camp fire. The fire usually burns in the space around
which the buildings stand. During the wet season, however, it is moved
into the sheltered floor in the building having the half platform. At
Tus-ko-na's camp, where several families are gathered, I noticed one
building without the interior platform. This was probably the wet
weather kitchen.
To all appearance there is no privacy in these open houses. The only
means by which it seems to be secured is by suspending, over where one
sleeps, a canopy of thin cotton cloth or calico, made square or oblong
in shape, and nearly three feet in height. This serves a double use,
as a private room and as a protection against gnats and mosquitoes.
But while I-ful-lo-ha-tco's house is a fair example of the kind of
dwelling in use throughout the tribe, I may not pass unnoticed some
innovations which have lately been made upon the general style. There
are, I understand, five inclosed houses, which were built and are owned
by Florida Indians. Four of these are covered with split cypress planks
or slabs; one is constructed of logs.
Progressive "Key West Billy" has gone further than any other one,
excepting perhaps Me-le, in the white man's ways of house building.
He has erected for his family, which consists of one wife and three
children, a cypress board house, and furnished it with doors and
windows, partitions, floors, and ceiling. In the house are one upper and
one or two lower rooms. Outside, he has a stairway to the upper floor,
and from the upper floor a balcony. He possesses also an elevated bed,
a trunk for his clothing, and a straw hat.
Besides the permanent home for the Seminole family, there is also the
lodge which it occupies when for any cause it temporarily leaves the
house. The lodges, or the temporary structures which the Seminole make
when "camping out," are, of course, much simpler and less comfortable
than their houses. I had the privilege of visiting two "camping"
parties--one of forty-eight Indians, at Tak-o-si-mac-la's cane field, on
the edge of the Big Cypress Swamp; the other of twenty-two persons, at a
Koonti ground, on Horse Creek, not far from the site of what was, long
ago, Fort Davenport.
I found great difficulty in reaching the "camp" at the sugar cane field.
I was obliged to leave my conveyance some distance from the island on
which the cane field was located. When we arrived at the shore of the
saw-grass marsh no outward sign indicated the presence of fifty Indians
so close at hand; but suddenly three turbaned Seminole emerged from the
marsh, as we stood there. Learning from our guide our business, they
cordially offered to conduct us through the water and saw-grass to the
camp. The wading was annoying and, to me, difficult; but at length we
secured dry footing in the jungle on the island, and after a tortuous
way through the tangled vegetation, which walled in the camp from the
prairie, we entered the large clearing and the collection of lodges
where the Indians were. These lodges, placed very close together and
seemingly without order, were almost all made of white cotton cloths,
which were each stretched over ridge poles and tied to four corner
posts. The lodges were in shape like the fly of a wall tent, simply a
sheet stretched for a cover.
At a Koonti ground on Horse Creek I met the Cat Fish Lake Indians. They
had been forced to leave their homes to secure an extra supply of Koonti
flour, because, as I understood the woman who told me, some animals had
eaten all their sweet potatoes. The lodges of this party differed from
those of the southern Indians in being covered above and around with
palmetto leaves and in being shaped some like wall tents and others like
single-roofed sheds. The accompanying sketch shows what kind of a
shelter Tael-la-haes-ke had made for himself fit Horse Creek. (Fig. 67.)
[Illustration: Fig. 67. Temporary dwelling.]
Adjoining each of these lodges was a platform, breast high. These were
made of small poles or sticks covered with, the leaves of the palmetto.
Upon and under these, food, clothing, and household utensils, generally,
were kept; and between the rafters of the lodges and the roofs, also,
many articles, especially those for personal use and adornment, were
stored.
Home Life.
Having now seen the formation of the Seminole family and taken a glance
at the dwellings, permanent and temporary, which it occupies, we are
prepared to look at its household life. I was surprised by the industry
and comparative prosperity and, further, by the cheerfulness and mutual
confidence, intimacy, and affection of these Indians in their family
intercourse.
The Seminole family is industrious. All its members work who are able to
do so, men as well as women. The former are not only hunters, fishermen,
and herders, but agriculturists also. The women not only care for their
children and look after the preparation of food and the general welfare
of the home, but are, besides, laborers in the fields. In the Seminole
family, both, husband and wife are land proprietors and cultivators.
Moreover, as we have seen, all children able to labor contribute their
little to the household prosperity. From these various domestic
characteristics, an industrious family life almost necessarily follows.
The disesteem in which Tus-ko-na, a notorious loafer at the Big Cypress
Swamp, is held by the other Indians shows that laziness is not
countenanced among the Seminole.
But let me not be misunderstood here. By a Seminole's industry I do
not mean the persistent and rapid labor of the white man of a northern
community. The Indian is not capable of this, nor is he compelled to
imitate it. I mean only that, in describing him, it is but just for me
to say that he is a worker and not a loafer.
As a result of the domestic industry it would be expected that we should
find comparative prosperity prevailing among all Seminole families; and
this is the fact. Much of the Indian's labor is wasted through his
ignorance of the ways by which it might be economized. He has no
labor saving or labor multiplying machines. There is but little
differentiation of function in either family or tribe. Each worker does
all kinds of work. Men give themselves to the hunt, women to the house,
and both to the field. But men may be found sometimes at the cooking
pot or toasting stick and women may be seen taking care of cattle and
horses. Men bring home deer and turkeys, &c.; women spend days in
fishing. Both men and women are tailors, shoemakers, flour makers, cane
crushers and sirup boilers, wood hewers and bearers, and water carriers.
There are but few domestic functions which may be said to belong
exclusively, on the one hand, to men, or, on the other, to women.
Out of the diversified domestic industry, as I have said, comes
comparative prosperity. The home is all that the Seminole family needs
or desires for its comfort. There is enough clothing, or the means to
get it, for every one. Ordinarily more than a sufficient quantity of
clothes is possessed by each member of a family. No one lacks money or
the material with which to obtain that which money purchases. Nor
need any ever hunger, since the fields and nature offer them food in
abundance. The families of the northern camps are not as well provided
for by bountiful nature as those south of the Caloosahatchie River. Yet,
though at my visit to the Cat Fish Lake Indians in midwinter the sweet
potatoes were all gone, a good hunting ground and fertile fields of
Koonti were near at hand for Tcup-ko's people to visit and use to their
profit.
Food.
Read the bill of fare from which the Florida Indians may select, and
compare with that the scanty supplies within reach of the North Carolina
Cherokee or the Lake Superior Chippewa. Here is a list of their meats:
Of flesh, at any time venison, often opossum, sometimes rabbit and
squirrel, occasionally bear, and a land terrapin, called the "gopher,"
and pork whenever they wish it. Of wild fowl, duck, quail, and turkey in
abundance. Of home reared fowl, chickens, more than they are willing to
use. Of fish, they can catch myriads of the many kinds which teem in the
inland waters of Florida, especially of the large bass, called "trout"
by the whites of the State, while on the seashore they can get many
forms of edible marine life, especially turtles and oysters. Equally
well off are these Indians in respect to grains, vegetables, roots,
and fruits. They grow maize in considerable quantity, and from it make
hominy and flour, and all the rice they need they gather from the
swamps. Their vegetables are chiefly sweet potatoes, large and much
praised melons and pumpkins, and, if I may classify it with vegetables,
the tender new growth of the tree called the cabbage palmetto. Among
roots, there is the great dependence of these Indians, the abounding
Koonti; also the wild potato, a small tuber found in black swamp land,
and peanuts in great quantities. Of fruits, the Seminole family may
supply itself with bananas, oranges (sour and sweet), limes, lemons,
guavas, pineapples, grapes (black and red), cocoa nuts, cocoa plums, sea
grapes, and wild plums. And with even this enumeration the bill of fare
is not exhausted. The Seminole, living in a perennial summer, is never
at a loss when he seeks something, and something good, to eat. I have
omitted from the above list honey and the sugar cane juice and sirup,
nor have I referred to the purchases the Indians now and then make from
the white man, of salt pork, wheat flour, coffee, and salt, and of the
various canned delicacies, whose attractive labels catch their eyes.
These Indians are not, of course, particularly provident. I was told,
however, that they are beginning to be ambitious to increase their
little herds of horses and cattle and their numbers of chickens and
swine.
Camp Fire.
Entering the more interior, the intimate home life of the Seminole, one
observes that the center about which it gathers is the camp fire. This
is never large except on a cool night, but it is of unceasing interest
to the household. It is the place where the food is prepared, and where,
by day, it is always preparing. It is the place where the social
intercourse of the family, and of the family with their friends, is
enjoyed. There the story is told; by its side toilets are made and
household duties are performed, not necessarily on account of the warmth
the fire gives, for it is often so small that its heat is almost
imperceptible, but because of its central position in the household
economy. This fire is somewhat singularly constructed; the logs used
for it are of considerable length, and are laid, with some regularity,
around a center, like the radii of a circle. These logs are pushed
directly inward as the inner ends are consumed. The outer ends of the
logs make excellent seats; sometimes they serve as pillows, especially
for old men and women wishing to take afternoon, naps.
Beds and bedding are of far less account to the Seminole family than the
camp fire. The bed is often only the place where one chooses to lie. It
is generally, however, chosen under the sheltering roof on the elevated
platform, or, when made in the lodge, on palmetto leaves. It is
pillowless, and has covering or not, as the sleeper may wish. If a cover
is used, it is, as a rule, only a thin blanket or a sheet of cotton
cloth, besides, during most of the year, the canopy or mosquito bar.
Manner Of Eating.
Next in importance to the camp fire in the life of the Seminole
household naturally comes the eating of what is prepared there. There
is nothing very formal in that. The Indians do not set a table or lay
dishes and arrange chairs. A good sized kettle, containing stewed meat
and vegetables, is the center around which, the family gathers for its
meal. This, placed in some convenient spot on the ground near the fire,
is surrounded by more or fewer of the members of the household in a
sitting posture. If all that they have to eat at that time is contained
in the kettle, each, extracts, with his fingers or his knife, a piece of
meat or a bone with meat on it, and, holding it in one hand, eats, while
with the other hand each, in turn, supplies himself, by means of a great
wooden spoon, from the porridge in the pot.
The Seminole, however, though observing meal times with some regularity,
eats just as his appetite invites. If it happens that he has a side of
venison roasting before the fire, he will cut from it at any time during
the day and, with the piece of meat in one hand and a bit of Koonti or
of different bread in the other, satisfy his appetite. Not seldom, too,
he rises during the night and breaks his sleep by eating a piece of the
roasting meat. The kettle and big spoon stand always ready for those who
at any moment may hunger. There is little to be said about eating in a
Seminole household, therefore, except that when its members eat together
they make a kettle the center of their group and that much of their
eating is done without reference to one another.
Amusements.
But one sees the family at home, not only working and sleeping and
eating, but also engaged in amusing itself. Especially among the
children, various sports are indulged in. I took some trouble to learn
what amusements the little Seminole had invented or received. I obtained
a list of them which might as well be that of the white man's as of the
Indian's child. The Seminole has a doll, i.e., a bundle of rags, a stick
with a bit of cloth wrapped about it, or something that serves just as
well as this. The children build little houses for their dolls and name
them "camps." Boys take their bows and arrows and go into the bushes and
kill small birds, and on returning say they have been "turkey-hunting."
Children sit around a small piece of land and, sticking blades of grass
into the ground, name it a "corn field." They have the game of "hide and
seek." They use the dancing rope, manufacture a "see-saw," play "leap
frog," and build a "merry-go-round." Carrying a small stick, they say
they carry a rifle. I noticed some children at play one day sitting near
a dried deer skin, which lay before them stiff and resonant. They had
taken from the earth small tubers about an inch in diameter found on the
roots of a kind of grass and called "deer-food." Through them they had
thrust sharp sticks of the thickness of a match and twice as long,
making what we would call "teetotums." These, by a quick twirl between
the palms of the hands, were set to spinning on the deer skin. The four
children were keeping a dozen or more of these things going. The sport
they called "a dance."
I need only add that the relations among the various members of the
Indian family in Florida are, as a rule, so well adjusted and observed
that home life goes on without discord. The father is beyond question
master in his home. To the mother belongs a peculiar domestic importance
from her connection with her gens, but both she and her children seek
first to know and to do the will of the actual lord of the household.
The father is the master without being a tyrant; the mother is a subject
without being a slave; the children have not yet learned self-assertion
in opposition to their parents: consequently, there is no constraint in
family intercourse. The Seminole household is cheerful, its members are
mutually confiding, and, in the Indian's way, intimate and affectionate.
The Seminole Gens.
Of this larger body of kindred, existing, as I could see, in very
distinct form among the Seminole, I gained but little definite
knowledge. What few facts I secured are here placed on record.
After I was enabled to make my inquiry understood, I sought to learn
from my respondent the name of the gens to which each Indian whose name
I had received belonged. As the result, I found that the two hundred and
eight Seminole now in Florida are divided into the following gentes and
in the following numbers:
1. Wind gens 21
2. Tiger gens 58
3. Otter gens 39
4. Bird gens 41
5. Deer gens 18
6. Snake gens 15
7. Bear gens 4
8. Wolf gens 1
9. Alligator gens 1
Unknown gentes 10
---
Total 208
I endeavored, also, to learn the name the Indians use for gens or clan,
and was told that it is "Po-ha-po-hum-ko-sin;" the best translation I
can give of the name is "Those of one camp or house."
Examining my table to find whether or not the word as translated
describes the fact, I notice that, with but one exception, which may
not, after all, prove to be an exception, each of the twenty-two camps
into which the thirty-seven Seminole families are divided is a camp in
which all the persons but the husbands are members of one gens. The
camp at Miami is an apparent exception. There Little Tiger, a rather
important personage, lives with a number of unmarried relatives. A Wolf
has married one of Little Tiger's sisters and lives in the camp, as
properly he should. Lately Tiger himself has married an Otter, but,
instead of leaving his relatives and going to the camp of his wife's
kindred, his wife has taken up her home with his people.
At the Big Cypress Swamp I tried to discover the comparative rank or
dignity of the various clans. In reply, I was told by one of the Wind
clan that they are graded in the following order. At the northernmost
camp, however, another order appears to have been established.
_Big Cypress camp._
1. The Wind.
2. The Tiger.
3. The Otter.
4. The Bird.
5. The Deer.
6. The Snake.
7. The Bear.
8. The Wolf.
_Northernmost camp._
1. The Tiger.
2. The Wind.
3. The Otter.
4. The Bird.
5. The Bear.
6. The Deer.
7. The Buffalo.
8. The Snake.
9. The Alligator.
10. The Horned Owl.
This second order was given to me by one of the Bird gens and by one who
calls himself distinctively a "Tallahassee" Indian. The Buffalo and the
Horned Owl clans seem now to be extinct in Florida, and I am not
altogether sure that the Alligator clan also has not disappeared.
The gens is "a group of relatives tracing a common lineage to some
remote ancestor. This lineage is traced by some tribes through the
mother and by others through the father." "The gens is the grand unit of
social organization, and for many purposes is the basis of governmental
organization." To the gens belong also certain rights and duties.
Of the characteristics of the gentes of the Florida Seminole, I know
only that a man may not marry a woman of his own clan, that the children
belong exclusively to the mother, and that by birth they are members of
her own gens. So far as duogamy prevails now among the Florida Indians,
I observed that both the wives, in every case, were members of one gens.
I understand also that there are certain games in which men selected
from gentes as such are the contesting participants.
Fellowhood.
In this connection I may say that if I was understood in my inquiries
the Seminole have also the institution of "Fellowhood" among them. Major
Powell thus describes this institution: "Two young men agree to be life
friends, 'more than brothers,' confiding without reserve each in the
other and protecting each the other from all harm."
The Seminole Tribe.
Tribal Organization.
The Florida Seminole, considered as a tribe, have a very imperfect
organization. The complete tribal society of the past was much broken
up through wars with the United States. These wars having ended in the
transfer of nearly the whole of the population to the Indian Territory,
the few Indians remaining in Florida were consequently left in a
comparatively disorganized condition. There is, however, among these
Indians a simple form of government, to which the inhabitants of at
least the three southern settlements submit. The people of Cat Fish Lake
and Cow Creek settlements live in a large measure independent of or
without civil connection with the others. Tcup-ko calls his people
"Tallahassee Indians." He says that they are not "the same" as the Fish
Eating Creek, Big Cypress, and Miami people. I learned, moreover, that
the ceremony of the Green Corn Dance may take place at the three last
named settlements and not at those of the north. The "Tallahassee
Indians" go to Fish Eating Creek if they desire to take part in the
festival.
Seat Of Government.
So far as there is a common seat of government, it is located at Fish
Eating Creek, where reside the head chief and big medicine man of the
Seminole, Tus-ta-nug-ge, and his brother, Hos-pa-ta-ki, also a medicine
man. These two are called the Tus-ta-nug-ul-ki, or "great heroes" of the
tribe. At this settlement, annually, a council, composed of minor chiefs
from the various settlements, meets and passes upon the affairs of the
tribe.
Tribal Officers.
What the official organization of the tribe is I do not know. My
respondent could not tell me. I learned, in addition to what I have
just written, only that there are several Indians with official titles,
living at each of the settlements, except at the one on Cat Fish Lake.
These were classified as follows:
Settlements | Chief and | War | Little | Medicine men.
| medicine man. | chiefs | chiefs |
-------------------+---------------+--------+--------+--------------
Big Cypress Swamp | | 2 | 2 | 1
Miami River | | 1 | | 1
Fish Eating Creek | 1 | | | 1
Cow Creek | | | | 2
+---------------+--------+--------+--------------
Total | 1 | 3 | 2 | 5
-------------------+---------------+--------+--------+--------------
Name Of Tribe.
I made several efforts to discover the tribal name by which these
Indians now designate themselves. The name Seminole they reject. In
their own language it means "a wanderer," and, when used as a term of
reproach, "a coward." Ko-nip-ha-tco said, "Me no Sem-ai-no-le; Seminole
cow, Seminole deer, Seminole rabbit; me no Seminole. Indians gone
Arkansas Seminole." He meant that timidity and flight from danger are
"Seminole" qualities, and that the Indians who had gone west at the
bidding of the Government were the true renegades. This same Indian
informed me that the people south of the Caloosahatchie River, at Miami
and the Big Cypress Swamp call themselves "Kaen-yuk-sa Is-ti-tca-ti,"
i.e., "Kaen-yuk-sa red men." Kaen-yuk-sa is their word for what we know as
Florida. It is composed of I-kan-a, "ground," and I-yuk-sa, "point" or
"tip," i.e., point of ground, or peninsula. At the northern camps the
name appropriate to the people there, they say, is "Tallahassee
Indians."