Part 20

On the second of August, by the request of the chiefs and head men of the Sac and Fox tribe of Indians, I reported to the honorable Commissioner of Indian Affairs, through your office, an account of an attack made on the Sacs and Foxes by the Comanches, Arapahoes, and Osages, about the tenth of July, one hundred miles west of Fort Riley. Some five or six days ago a Sac Indian, who had a brother killed in that battle, left here by himself, went within four hundred yards of an Osage encampment, met two Osage men, shot one down and went up and scalped him; could have killed the other, but wished him to live to carry the news of what he had done to the Osage camp; waited until he had done so; heard the cries and lamentations of those in the camp for their dead kinsman, mounted his horse and returned with his scalp. The nation immediately upon his return moved to within a mile of the agency, where they are now dancing with joy and triumph over the trophy brought back in this warlike achievement to them (_Report, 84_).

Whirlwind, the famous war chief of the southern Cheyenne, who died in 1895, had every feather shot away from his war bonnet in this engagement, which he always declared was the hardest fight he had ever been in. Notwithstanding this, he was not wounded, owing to the protecting power of a medicine hawk which he wore upon his war bonnet! He said:

When all the feathers were shot away the hawk was not hit. Balls went to the right and left, above and below me. I was mounted and the Sacs and Foxes were on foot in a hollow like a buffalo wallow. It was the Great Spirit and the hawk which protected me (_Clark, 15_).

WINTER 1854-55

Gyaí`koaóñte "Likes-enemies," is killed by the _Ä´lähó_. He is identified in the picture by his shield, which is recognized as one made by Set-pate, "He-bear," and by the collar of the Kâitséñko, to which order he belonged. The zigzag stroke touching his breast is intended to show that he was killed by a bullet.

According to one statement, the Kiowa warriors had gone against the Osage on Arkansas river and found their camp with a number of horses hobbled near by. They waited until night and then made an attempt to steal the horses, but were ambuscaded by the Osage and this man was killed. Another informant states that the Indians concerned were not the Osage (_K`apä´to_, "Shaved-heads,") but the _Ä´lähó_ (Kwapa? Omaha?), described as a tribe living to the northward of the Osage and similar to them in language and costume. As the Kiowa generally state that they have been friends with the Osage since the peace of 1834, and more

## particularly as they had been allies against the Sauk only a few months

before this occurrence, the latter story is probably correct.

[Illustration: FIG. 117--Summer 1855--Sitting summer.]

SUMMER 1855

_Toñgúayo Paídă_, "Summer of sitting with legs crossed and extended." For some reason the word for summer is here used in the plural form. The figure is sufficiently suggestive. There was no sun dance this summer. The weather was extremely hot and the grass dried up, in consequence of which the horses became so weak that when traveling the Kiowa were frequently obliged to halt and sit down to allow the animals to rest.

WINTER 1855-56

´daltoñ-édal, "Big-head," the brother of Gyaí`koaóñte, who had been killed by the _Ä´lähó_ (? see ante) in the preceding winter, after having cried all summer, went this winter for revenge, met an _Ä´lähó_ (or an Osage?) hunting buffalo, and killed him.

The figure with a bow above the winter mark represents A´daltoñ-édal, indicated by the head above the head of the figure, while in front of him is the Osage (?), with the arrow in his breast and the blood pouring from his mouth. The headdress is like that hitherto used to indicate a Pawnee, both tribes wearing the head shaved, leaving a crest. During this winter also a war party went into Chihuahua and brought back a large number of horses, but lost one man, "Going-on-the-road."

[Illustration: FIG. 118--Winter 1855-56--Big-head kills an Ä´lähó.]

SUMMER 1856

_Séñ-äló K`ádó_, "Prickly-pear sun dance." The prickly-pears or tunas (_Opuntia tortispina ?_) are shown above the medicine lodge. This dance was held at a place where there was an abundance of prickly-pears, at the mouth of a small creek, probably Caddo or Rate creek, entering Arkansas river about 10 miles below Bent's fort, in Colorado. It was held late in the fall, when the prickly-pears were ripe, instead of in midsummer, as usual, and the women gathered a large quantity. This circumstance has given the distinctive name to the _k`ádó_. The sweet fruit of the tuna is much prized by the Indians, who eat it raw, while the fleshy leaves are used as a mordant in their painting upon buckskin.

[Illustration: FIG. 119--Summer 1856--Prickly-pear sun dance.]

WINTER 1856-57

_Dó-gyäkódal-de Sai_, "Winter that they left their tipis behind." The two tipis above the winter mark are intended to convey the idea.

After the last sun dance, while the Kiowa, Cheyenne, and Arapaho were still camped near Bent's fort, a Kiowa war party under Big-bow and Stumbling-bear went against the Navaho, while the rest, men and women, under old Lone-wolf, went after buffalo, leaving their tipis rolled up in care of Bent. On their return they found the Cheyenne in possession of their tipis, and on complaining to Bent he said, "I have given them to my people" (i. e., the Cheyenne). A quarrel ensued, in which the Cheyenne shot Lone-wolf's horse and slightly wounded one Kiowa and drove the others away, retaining possession of the tipis. This appears to have been the most serious break between the two tribes since they had made peace in 1840.

[Illustration: FIG. 120--Winter 1856-57--Tipis left.]

SUMMER 1857

_Ä´potó Ek`iädă´-de K`ádó_, "Sun dance when the forked stick sprouted." The figure (121) represents a forked stick, with leaves, growing out from the side of the medicine lodge.

This dance was held on the north side of Salt fork of the Arkansas (_Ätäntaí P'a_, "Salt river") at a small creek, probably Elm creek, a considerable distance below upper Mule creek (_Ädóä P'a_) in Oklahoma. A Kiowa named K`ayä´ñte, "Falls-over-a-bank," owned a sacred _ä´poto_, or two-pronged stick of _ä`gótä_, or chinaberry wood about four feet long, trimmed with wild sage, which had been given him by his uncle Kóñabíñate or Kóñate, "Black-tripe." It was his medicine, which he carried publicly only in the sun dance, and no one else had such a stick. He carried it on this occasion, keeping time to the dance with it, and at the end of the ceremony planted it, with the fork down, inside the medicine lodge as a sacrifice. On returning to the place next year the Kiowa found that it had been reversed by someone and had taken root and put forth green leaves. This was the more remarkable, as it had previously been stripped of its bark. The news of the phenomenon spread through the tribe and confirmed the previous impression concerning the mysterious powers of the _ä´poto_. Ten years later, on the occasion of the treaty of Medicine Lodge, the Kiowa visited the spot and found that the rod had grown into a tree and was still alive. It is just possible that K`ayä´ñte, who is still living, could explain the matter.

After this dance two war parties started out, one against the _Pä´sûñko_ (_Paseños_, Mexicans of El Paso), and another, consisting principally of Comanche under the chief Mäwi, against the Sauk and Fox tribes, who had so badly punished them three years before. They met the Sauk northeast of the scene of the former battle and had an engagement in which several of the Sauk were killed. Gaápiatañ was one of this party. No mention of these expeditions occurs in the official reports.

[Illustration: FIG. 121--Summer 1857--Forked-stick-sprouting sun dance.]

The story of the origin of the _ä´poto_ staff is romantic, and throws light upon several interesting points of Indian belief and custom. Eighteen years before this sun dance (i. e., in 1839) a small party of about twenty Kiowa warriors led by Gúădalóñte, "Painted-red," started against the _Pä´sûñko_, already mentioned. The old chief Dohasän accompanied the party, but not as leader. It should be noted that usually every war party had a substitute leader or lieutenant, who took command in case of the death of the leader. For some reason they made no attack upon El Paso, probably because they found it too vigilantly guarded, but stayed only one night and started the next day on their return. In the desolate Jornada del Muerto, between the lower Pecos and the Rio Grande, they halted for the night at a spring coming out of a cave since known to the Kiowa as _Tsó-dói-gyätä´dă´-dée_, "the rock house (cave) in which they were surrounded." None of the Kiowa can define its exact location, but they describe it as a deep rock well with a large basin of water, and on one side of it a cave running under the rock from the water's edge. Pope's statement shows it to have been the Hueco Tanks, in western Texas, just south of the New Mexico line. While resting there they were surrounded by a large force of Mexican soldiers, who killed several of their horses and forced them to take refuge in the cave. The Mexicans had with them several Mescalero Indians (E´sikwita), who, however, were rather doubtful allies, as one of them, who spoke Comanche, shouted to the Kiowa in that language, encouraging them to hold out.

On being driven into the cave the Kiowa found themselves cut off from 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