The Kiowa say it occurred in the winter season, when they were camped on a small tributary of Elm fork of Red river, within the present Greer county, Oklahoma. The whole camp was asleep, when they were wakened by a sudden light; running out from the tipis, they found the night as bright as day, with myriads of meteors darting about in the sky. The parents aroused the children, saying, "Get up, get up, there is something awful (zédălbe) going on!" They had never before known such an occurrence, and regarded it as something ominous or dangerous, and sat watching it with dread and apprehension until daylight. Such phenomena are always looked upon as omens or warnings by the ignorant; in Mexico, according to Gregg, it was believed to be a sign of divine displeasure at a sacrilegious congress which had recently curtailed the privileges of the church, while in Missouri it was regarded by some as a protest from heaven against the persecution of the Mormons then gathered near Independence (Gregg, 5).
The figure is intended to commemorate the return of the girl captured by the Osage in the massacre of the preceding summer. The tipi above the female figure, with which it is connected by a line, indicates her name, Gunpä´ñdamä, Medicine-tied-to-tipi-pole(-woman) (see the glossary, Gunpä´ñdamä). She was restored to her friends by a detachment of the First dragoons from Fort Gibson. Although this occurred in the summer, the season is not indicated by the usual figure of the medicine lodge, for the reason that, the taíme being still in possession of the Osage, there was no sun dance held that year. It is omitted also in the picture for the preceding summer, the taíme having been captured early in the spring.
As the return of this girl was the object of the first American expedition up Red river, and the beginning of our official and trading relations with the Comanche, Kiowa, Wichita, and affiliated tribes, it merits somewhat extended notice. The expedition and subsequent council are noted in the report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs for 1834 (page 240), and are described at length in the journal of Lieutenant Wheelock (Greer, 1), and in the letters of the artist Catlin, who accompanied the party and painted the first pictures ever made of any of these tribes. The resulting treaties of 1835 and 1837 are noted in the Commissioner's reports for these years (Report, 74). The first Indian story of the occurrence is here given:
After the massacre at K`ódaltä K`op, already described, the Osage returned to their own country, where there was a soldier camp (i. e., Fort Gibson), bringing with them the Kiowa girl Gunpä´ñdamä (Medicine-tied-to-tipi-pole) and her brother, taken at the time of the massacre. The woman captured at the same time had escaped and made her way back to her people. At Fort Gibson the soldiers told the Osage that as they and other Kiowa were all alike Indians they should be friends. They then bought the two captive children from the Osage and proposed that some of the Osage should return with them (the soldiers) to the Kiowa country, there to give back the children to their friends and invite the Kiowa to come down to the fort and make a permanent treaty of peace and friendship between the two tribes. The Osage agreed, and accordingly a large party of soldiers, accompanied by a number of Osage, with the girl Gunpä´ñdamä, set out for the Kiowa country. The little boy had been killed by a sheep before starting. With them went also the famous trader, Colonel Auguste Chouteau, called "Soto" by the Kiowa, the first American trader known to the Kiowa, Wichita, and associated tribes. Up to this time the Kiowa had been at war with the Osage and had no knowledge of our government, and these dragoons were the first United States troops they had ever seen. The soldiers first met the Comanche, who told them that the Kiowa were near the Wichita village at the farther end of the mountains. When the troops arrived at the village, the Kiowa were afraid and kept at a distance until they saw the girl, which convinced them that the soldiers were their friends. The girl was given back to her people, and at the request of the soldiers a number of Kiowa, including the head chief, Doháte, returned with them and the Osage to the camp at Fort Gibson. They do not remember whether any of the Apache went. There the soldiers entertained the Kiowa with food, coffee, and sugar, and gave them blankets and other presents. A treaty of peace was made between the Kiowa and soldiers (i. e., Americans), and the Osage and other Kiowa were invited to trade with Chouteau, who promised to bring goods to their country. Since that time the two tribes have been friends. Hitherto the Kiowa had never had any traders in their country, but after this peace a regular trade was established. The first trader, whom they call Tóme or Tóme-te (Thomas?) came soon afterward and built a trading post on the west side of Cache creek, about 3 miles below the present Fort Sill; but he did not stay long.
Dohá, Doháte, or Dohásän (Bluff or Little-bluff), the head of the tribe at the time of this expedition, had superseded A`dáte, who had been deposed as a punishment for having allowed his people to be surprised and massacred by the Osage. In his youth Dóha had been, known, as Äanóñte. He was the fourth head chief of the tribe from the time of the treaty with the Comanche, the order of succession being Políăkya (Harelip), alias Kágiätsé (Thick-blanket); Tsóñbohón (Feather-cap), A`dáte, and Dohásän. He continued to be recognized as head chief until his death in 1866. The name is hereditary in the family, which is one of the most prominent in the tribe, and has been borne by this chief—distinguished as Old Dohásän—by his nephew, who died at an advanced age at Anadarko in the winter of 1893—94, and by his son. The older men state that the father of the great Dohásän was also called Dohá, and that his son, after assuming the same name, was known as Dohásän, (Little-bluff) for distinction. He is spoken of as Doháte as frequently as Dohásän.
According to one informant, at the time of the Osage massacre Chouteau had a trading post about a day's journey east of the present Fort Sill, and the Kiowa went to him and told him of their misfortune, whereupon he went to Fort Gibson and induced the soldiers to rescue the captives from the Osage and return them to their friends. This is perhaps a confusion of events. The trading post referred to was at Chouteau spring, on the east side of Chouteau creek which flows into the South Canadian from the east, about 5 miles northeast of the present town of Purcell, Indian Territory. It does not appear, however, to have been established until after, and as a result of, this expedition.
The expedition is described in detail by the artist Catlin, who accompanied it and was present at the council on its return. As the Comanche, Kiowa, and Wichita lived so remote from the frontiers, they had not yet been brought into official connection with the United States, and consequently had several times, as we have seen, come into collision with small parties of Americans on the borders of their country. The government had for some time been desirous of entering into treaty relations with them, more especially as the plan of colonizing the eastern tribes in the western country had been put into operation. As the Osage, who were already in treaty relations with the government, had several captives taken from the more western tribes, it was decided to purchase these prisoners and send them home under military escort as a token of the friendly intentions of the government, with an invitation to the chiefs of those tribes to come to the military post and make a treaty with the United States, the Osage, and the immigrant tribes.
Accordingly, the two Kiowa children and two Wichita children, captives, were purchased from the Osage and brought to Fort Gibson; unfortunately, the little Kiowa boy was killed near the post shortly after by a blow from a ram. An expedition of the First dragoons was organized, under command of General Leavenworth, to restore the children to their parents and open communication with their tribes. The troops, numbering about four hundred, left Fort Gibson toward the end of June, 1834, taking with them the three children and accompanied by about thirty of the Osage, Cherokee, Delaware, and Seneca tribes, together with the artist Catlin, and, according to the Indian account, Chouteau and perhaps another trader. Their interpreter was a Cherokee with a "very imperfect" knowledge of Spanish, through which language he hoped to open communication with Spanish-speaking Indians among the tribes visited; his ignorance probably accounts for the atrocious names and etymologies given by Catlin. The march in the heat of summer proved so severe that by the time the command reached the junction of Washita and Red rivers about one third of the number, including the commanding general, were prostrated; the remainder, constantly dwindling, pushed on in charge of Colonel Henry Dodge, keeping a general northwest course along the divide between the two streams. They were considered to be within the Comanche country after crossing the Washita.
Having traveled about two weeks, they one day discovered a large party of Comanche several miles ahead, sitting quietly on their horses watching the movements of the advancing troops, and holding, their long lances in their hands, the blades glistening in the sun. As the cavalry advanced toward them the Indians retreated to another ridge. This was repeated several times, until at last, says Catlin—
Colonel Dodge ordered the command to halt, while he rode forward with a few of his staff and an ensign carrying a white flag. I joined this advance, and the Indians stood their ground until we had come within half a mile of them and could distinctly observe all their numbers and movements. We then came to a halt, and the white flag was sent a little in advance and waved as a signal for them to approach, at which one of their party galloped out in advance of the war party on a milk-white horse, carrying a piece of white buffalo skin on the point of his long lance in reply to our flag.... The distance between the two parties was perhaps half a mile, and that a beautiful and gently sloping prairie, over which he was for the space of a quarter of an hour reining and spurring his maddened horse and gradually approaching us by tacking to the right and left like a vessel beating against the wind. He at length came prancing and leaping along till he met the flag of the regiment, when he leaned his spear for a moment against it, looking the bearer full in the face, when he wheeled his horse and dashed up to Colonel Dodge with his extended hand, which was instantly grasped and shaken. We all had him by the hand in a moment, and the rest of the party seeing him received in this friendly manner, instead of being sacrificed, as they undoubtedly expected, started under full whip in a direct line toward us, and in a moment gathered like a black cloud around us.... The warrior's quiver was slung on the warrior's back, and his bow grasped in his left hand ready for instant use if called for. His shield was on his arm; and across his thigh, in a beautiful cover of buckskin, his gun was slung, and in his right hand his lance of fourteen feet in length. Thus armed and equipped was this dashing cavalier, and nearly in the same manner all the rest of the party (Catlin, 4).
When the purpose of the expedition had been explained to them, the Comanche said that their great village was a few days farther ahead, and abandoning their war expedition, they turned and escorted the troops to their camp. According to statements made by old men of the tribe to Horace P. Jones, post interpreter at Fort Sill, this Comanche village in 1834 was situated on Chandler creek, close to its junction with Cache creek, about ten miles north of the present Fort Sill. The artist gives a glowing account of the surrounding country and of their reception by the Comanche.
Having led us to the top of a gently rising elevation on the prairie, they pointed to their village at several miles distance, in the midst of one of the most enchanting valleys that human eyes ever looked upon. The general course of the valley is from northwest to southeast, of several miles in width, with a magnificent range of mountains rising in distance beyond, it being without doubt a huge spur of the Rocky mountains, composed entirely of a reddish granite or gneiss, corresponding with the other links of this stupendous chain. In the midst of this lovely valley we could just discern amongst the scattering shrubbery that lined the banks of the water courses, the tops of the Comanche wigwams and the smoke curling above them. The valley for a mile distant about the village seemed speckled with horses and mules that were grazing in it. The chiefs of the war party requested the regiment to halt until they could ride in and inform their people who were coming. We then dismounted for an hour or so, when we could see them, busily running and catching their horses, and at length several hundreds of their braves and warriors came out at full speed to welcome us, and forming in a line in front of us, as we were again mounted, presented a formidable and pleasing appearance. As they wheeled their horses, they very rapidly formed in a line and dressed like well-disciplined cavalry. The regiment was drawn up in three columns, with a line formed in front, by Colonel Dodge and his staff, in which rank my friend Chadwick and I were also paraded, when we had a fine view of the whole manœuvre, which was picturesque and thrilling in the extreme.
In the center of our advance was stationed a white flag, and the Indians answered to it with one which they sent forward and planted by the side of it. The two lines were thus drawn up face to face within 20 or 30 yards of each other, as inveterate foes that never had met; and to the everlasting credit of the Comanches, whom the world had always looked upon as murderous and hostile, they had all come out in this manner, with their heads uncovered, and without a weapon of any kind, to meet a war party bristling with arms and trespassing to the middle of their country. They had every reason to look upon us as their natural enemy, as they have been in the habit of estimating all pale faces; and yet instead of arms or defences, or even of frowns, they galloped out and looked us in our faces, without an expression of fear or dismay, and evidently with expressions of joy and impatient pleasure, to shake us by the hand, on the bare assertion of Colonel Dodge, which had been made to the chiefs, that we came to see them on a friendly visit.
After we had sat and gazed at each other in this way for some half an hour or so, the head chief of the band came galloping up to Colonel Dodge, and having shaken him by the hand, he passed on to the other officers in turn and then rode alongside of the different columns, shaking hands with every dragoon in the regiment; he was followed in this by his principal chiefs and braves, which altogether took up nearly an hour longer, when the Indians retreated slowly toward their village, escorting us to the banks of a fine, clear stream and a good spring of fresh water, half a mile from their village, which they designated as a suitable place for our encampment (Catlin, 5).
While there the artist painted the pictures of the chief men of the tribe, together with camp scenes. The pictures form a part of the Catlin gallery in the National Museum at Washington, District of Columbia. In his usual incorrect style, he estimated the population of the tribe at thirty thousand to forty thousand. It may possibly have been one-tenth of that number.
After a few days the command, guided by some of the Comanche, started for the Wichita village lying farther to the west. After four days' march, keeping close along the base of the mountains, they reached the village, which was situated on the northeast bank of the North fork of Red river, about 4 miles below the junction of Elm fork, and within the present limits of the reservation. It was close to the mouth of Devil canyon, with the river in front and the mountains behind. It was an old settlement site of the Wichita, having been occupied by them as far back at least as about the year 1765 (Lewis and Clark, 8). Catlin thus describes it:
We found the mountains inclosing the Pawnee [i.e., Pawnee Pique, or Wichita] village, on the bank of Red river, about 90 miles from the Comanchee town. The dragoon regiment was drawn up within half a mile or so of this village and encamped in a square, where we remained three days. We found here a very numerous village containing some five or six hundred wigwams, all made of long prairie grass thatched over poles which are fastened in the ground and bent in at the top, giving to them in distance the appearance of straw beehives, as in plate 173 [figure 68 herein], which is an accurate view of it, showing the Red river in front and the "mountains of rocks" behind it. To our very great surprise we have found these people cultivating quite extensive fields of corn (maize), pumpkins, melons, beans, and squashes; so, with these aids and an abundant supply of buffalo meat, they may be said to be living very well (Catlin, 6).
The picture by Catlin gives a good idea of the location and a tolerable idea of the peculiar conical grass houses of the Wichita, who have always been noted as an agricultural tribe. As usual, however, he has grossly overestimated their number, attributing to the village five or six hundred houses, and to the Wichita and Kiowa eight to ten thousand population. It is very doubtful if the two tribes, with all their affiliated bands, ever numbered a total of twenty-five hundred. The Wichita village may have had, all told, seventy or eighty houses. When the author examined the ground, in 1893, the circular depressions where the houses had stood were still regular in shape and plainly visible. According to Wichita information, the village was called Kĭ´tskûkătû´k, a name which seems to refer to its situation beside the mountain, and was abandoned soon after 1834, when the tribe removed to a new location, where Fort Sill is now located. From there they again removed to Rush spring, about 25 miles farther east, where Marcy found them in 1852. The mountains immediately about the site of the village visited by the dragoons are still known to the Kiowa as Do`gúat K`op, "Wichita mountains," the name not being applied by them to the more eastern portion of the range.
The meeting with the Wichita threatened at the start to be hostile. Having learned that they had in their possession a captive white boy, Colonel Dodge demanded that he be surrendered. They repeatedly denied having any knowledge of the boy or the circumstances attending his capture until, being convinced by the sight of their own children brought back by the dragoons that the intentions of the white visitors were friendly, they produced him.
An order was immediately given for the Pawnee and Kiowa girls to be brought forward. They were in a few minutes brought into the council house, when they were at once recognized by their friends and relatives, who embraced them with the most extravagant expressions of joy and satisfaction. The heart of the venerable chief was melted at this evidence of the white man's friendship, and he rose upon his feet, and taking Colonel Dodge in his arms and, placing his left cheek against the left cheek of the colonel, held him for some minutes without saying a word, whilst tears were flowing from his eyes. He then embraced each officer in turn in the same silent and affectionate manner, which form took half an hour or more before it was completed.
From this moment the council, which before had been a very grave and uncertain one, took a pleasing and friendly turn, and this excellent old man ordered the women to supply the dragoons with something to eat, as they were hungry. The little encampment, which heretofore was in a woeful condition, having eaten up their last rations twelve hours before, were now gladdened by the approach of a number of women who brought their "back loads" of dried buffalo meat and green corn, and threw it down amongst them. This seemed almost like a providential deliverance, for the country between here and the Comanchees was entirely destitute of game and our last provisions were consumed.
The council thus proceeded successfully and pleasantly for several days, whilst the warriors of the Kiowas and Wicos [Wacos], two adjoining and friendly tribes living farther to the west, were arriving, and also a great many from other bands of the Comanchees, who had heard of our arrival, until two thousand or more of these wild and fearless-looking fellows were assembled, and all, from their horses' backs, with weapons in hand, were looking into our pitiful little encampment of two hundred men, all in a state of dependence and almost literal starvation, and at the same time nearly one-half the number too sick to have made a successful resistance if we were to have been attacked (Catlin, 7).
The result of the council was that a large delegation from the allied tribes returned with the troops to Fort Gibson, where arrangements were made for the subsequent treaties of 1835 and 1837, as already described, which mark the beginning of the modern history of the Kiowa, Comanche, Wichita, and affiliated bands.
The Wichita, as well as the Kiowa, still remember this friendly meeting. Nasthoe, a Wichita chief, in giving testimony in 1894 in regard to the location of the old village, said: "I was told that the white people and the Osage and the Kidi-ki-tashe [Wichita] came to that old village, where they lived and brought that girl and boy, and inside of one of those tipis they had made a feast among themselves, and the soldiers had fired their guns around there. The meaning of that was a peace" (Greer County, 1).
While with this expedition Catlin painted a number of portraits, the first on record from these tribes. He has this to say of his Kiowa subjects:
The head chief of the Kioways, whose name is Teh-toot-sah [Dohásän, see page 175], we found to be a very gentlemanly and high-minded man, who treated the dragoons and officers with great kindness while in his country. His long hair, which was put up in several large clubs and ornamented with a great many silver brooches, extended quite down to his knees. This distinguished man, as well as several others of his tribe, have agreed to join us on the march to Fort Gibson, so I shall have much of their company yet, and probably much more to say of them at a future period. Bon-son-gee (The New Fire) [Bohón-kóñkya, Black-cap], is another chief of this tribe, and called a very good man; the principal ornaments which he carried on his person were a boar's tusk and his war whistle, which were hanging on his breast. Quay-ham-kay (The Stone Shell) is another fair specimen of the warriors of this tribe ... Wun-pan-to-mee (The White Weasel) [Gunpü´ñdamä´, Medicine-tied-to-tipi-pole], a girl, and Tunk-aht-oh-ye (The Thunderer), a boy, who are brother and sister, are two Kioways who were purchased from the Osages, to be taken to their tribe by the dragoons. The girl was taken the whole distance with us, on horseback, to the Pawnee village, and there delivered to her friends, as I have before mentioned; and the fine little boy was killed at the fur trader's house, on the banks of the Verdigris, near Fort Gibson, the day after I painted his portrait, and only a few days before he was to have started with us on the march. He was a beautiful boy of nine or ten years of age, and was killed by a ram, which struck him in the abdomen, and knocking him against a fence, killed him instantly. Kots-a-to-ah (The Smoked Shield) is another of the extraordinary men of this tribe, near 7 feet in stature, and distinguished not only as one of the greatest warriors, but the swiftest on foot in the nation. This man, it is said, runs down a buffalo on foot, and slays it with his knife or his lance as he runs by its side! (Catlin, 8).
BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY— SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LXXVI
BÓHON-KÓÑKYA, "QUAYHAMKAY," GUNPÄÑDÂMÄ, AND "KOTSATOAH" (AFTER CATLIN).
Two of those mentioned by Catlin—Dohásän and Bóhónkóñkya—were signers of the first Kiowa treaty, in 1837, and are still well remembered, as is also the girl, Gunpä´ñdamä´. The other names are too badly mangled to be identified, and the memory of the swift runner seems to have utterly perished.
Pá-tón Ehótal-de Sai, "Winter that Bull-tail was killed." He was killed by the Mexicans. The figure above the winter sign has a blood spot upon the body to represent the wound, while the erect cue from the head indicates his name.
The Kiowa had made their winter camp on the Washita, when a war party set out against the Toñhéñ-t'a`ká-i (Mexicans of the waterless country), or Chihuahuans. Having started late, they camped all winter at a mountain toward the southern edge of the Staked plain, known as Déngyä-kóñ K`op, or "Black-ice mountain." One morning in the early spring, while several men were out looking for their ponies, they were suddenly surrounded by the Mexicans and all killed, including Pa-ton, who was shot through the body. Their comrades saw the fight from a distance, but, being outnumbered and therefore afraid to come near to help them, they got away as soon as they could.
Donpä K`ádó, "Cat-tail rush sun dance." This was the first sun dance held by the Kiowa after the recovery of the taíme from the Osages, already narrated, and is thus distinguished because it was held at a place where a great many cat-tail rushes (Equisetum arvense) were growing on the south bank of North Canadian river, at the Red hills, about 30 miles above the present Fort Reno, Oklahoma. The soft white portion of the lower part of the stalk of this rush is eaten raw by the Indians with great relish. The picture above the medicine lodge represents the taíme bíĭmkâ-í or rawhide box in which the taíme is kept.
It was immediately after this dance that a war party of Kiowa made the raid far down toward the coast in which they captured Bóiñ-edal (Big-blond), now the oldest captive in the tribe. This man, sometimes known to the whites as Kiowa Dutch, was born in Germany and is now, according to his own account, about 70 years of age. He remembers having gone to school in Germany as a small boy, and came to this country, when about 8 or 9 years of age, with his father, stepmother, and an elder brother. He describes the place where they located as being a small settlement on a large river, up which ships could sail, where there were alligators and trees with long moss, and which was within a day's ride of the sea. The people were engaged in raising cotton, his family being the only Germans. From other evidence it seems to have been about Matagorda or Galveston bay, showing that the Kiowa carried their raids in this direction even to the coast. Within a year of their coming, and before he had learned English, a Kiowa war party attacked the settlement at night, carried off himself, his mother, and his brother, and probably killed his father; his mother was taken in another direction and he never saw her again; she was afterward ransomed by Tométe, the trader already mentioned; his brother committed suicide during the cholera epidemic of 1849; Bóiñ-edal is still with the tribe. As his name indicates, he is a typical German in appearance, and still remembers a few words of his mother language, besides having a fair knowledge of English and Spanish, although he does not remember his own name or birthplace. It was about the same time that the Comanche raided Barker's fort, on the Navasota, in eastern Texas, and carried off the girl Cynthia Parker, who afterward became the mother of Quanah, the present chief of the tribe. The story of these captives may have a hundred parallels among the three confederated tribes.
Tó`-edalte (Big-face) was shot through the body and killed by the Mexicans while on a raid into old Mexico. This is Set-t'an's statement, which is borne out by the picture of a man, whose name is indicated by the figure of a big head or face above. Other informants, however, deny any knowledge of such a man, and in the notes accompanying the Scott calendar he is called Wolf-hair. The gunshot wound is indicated in the ordinary way.
Gui P a K`ádó, "Wolf-river sun dance." The figure of a wolf or coyote above the medicine lodge indicates that the dance was held on Gui P a or Wolf river, i. e., Wolf-creek fork of the North Canadian. Soon after the dance the Kiowa moved to another camp north of the Arkansas, while the Kiñep band went on to pay a social visit to the Crows and buy from them ermine and elk teeth for ornamenting their buckskin shirts and the dresses of the women. After they had gone, those who remained behind were attacked in their camp by the whole Cheyenne tribe, but the Kiowa threw up breastworks and defended themselves until their assailants were compelled to retire.
K`íñähíate Ehótal-de Sai, "Winter that K`íñähíate was killed." K`íñähíate ("Man") was killed in an expedition against the Ä´-t'á`ká-i, "Timber Mexicans," or Mexicans of Tamaulipas and the lower Rio Grande. The tribe was camped on upper Red river at the time. The name is indicated by a small figure of a man above a similar larger figure, with which it is connected by a line, the death wound being indicated on the lower figure. No better illustration of the wide range of the Kiowa could be given than the fact that while one band was thus raiding in Mexico another, as we have just seen, was visiting upon the upper Missouri.
Säk`ota Ä´otón-de Pai, "Summer that the Cheyenne were massacred," or Á`k`ádo Pai, "Wailing sun-dance summer." The figure is the conventional Indian symbol for a battle, with the party attacked defending themselves behind breastworks thrown up in the sand, and the arrows flying among them; below the main figure is another of a man wearing a war bonnet. Compare the battle pictographs from the Dakota calendars as given by Mallery (figure 75).
At the time of the fight the Kiowa, Comanche, and Apache were camped upon a small tributary of Scott creek (Pohón-ä P'a, "Walnut creek"), an upper branch of the North fork of Red river, southward from the present Port Elliott in the panhandle of Texas. It was in early summer, and they were preparing for the sun dance; a young man was out alone straightening arrows when he saw two men creeping up, with grass over their faces. Thinking they were Kiowa deer hunters, he advanced to meet them, when they fired and wounded him and his horse; he fled back to camp and gave the alarm, and Kiowa, Comanche, and Apache rushed out in pursuit. They soon came up with a small party of the enemy, who proved to be Cheyenne. The Kiowa and their allies killed three of them there, and following the fugitives killed several others; continuing along the trail down the north side of the creek to a short distance below its junction with Sweetwater, they came upon the main camp of the Cheyenne, who dug holes in the sand and made a good defense, but were at last all killed except one, who strangled himself with a rope to avoid capture. The bodies of the dead Cheyenne, 48 in number, were scalped, stripped, and laid along the ground in a row by the victors. Six Kiowa were killed, including the grandfather of the present Lone-wolf. T'ébodal, the oldest man now in the tribe, was engaged in this encounter.
Set-t´an states that one Cheyenne wearing a war bonnet was killed as he came out of a tipi (see figure 71). Other informants do not remember this, but say that the Kiowa captured a fine medicine lance in a feathered case, and also a pabón or Dog-soldier staff, of the kind carried by those who were pledged to die at their post. The stream where the battle took place is since, called Sä´k`ota Ä´otón-de P'a, "Creek where the Cheyennes were massacred." The summer of the occurrence is sometimes called Á'k`ádá Pai, "Wailing sun-dance summer," because, although the Kiowa wailed for their dead, the sun dance was not on that account abandoned.
A´daltem Etkúegán-de Sai, "Winter that they dragged the head." The figure above the winter mark shows a horseman carrying a bloody scalp upon a lance and dragging a bloody head at the end of a reata.
Three Comanche, two men and a woman, were camped alone one night in a tipi on the Clear fork of the Brazos (Ä´sese P'a, "Wooden-arrowpoint river"), in Texas, when one of them noticed somebody raise the door-flap and then quickly drop it again; he told the others, and as silently and swiftly as possible they ran out, and jumping over a steep bank of the creek hid themselves just a moment before their enemies returned and fired into the vacated tipi. The Comanche returned the fire from their hiding place and then made their escape to a Kiowa camp near by. In the morning the Kiowa returned to the spot, together with the Comanche, and found a dead Arapaho lying where he had been shot; they scalped and beheaded him, and brought the head into camp dragging at the end of a reata. The old German captive, Bóiñ-edal, then a little boy and who had been with the Indians about two years, witnessed this barbarous spectacle and still remembers the thrill of horror which it sent through him.
Gúi-p'ágya Sä´k`ota Ĭmdóhä´pa-de Pai, "Summer that the Cheyenne attacked the camp on "Wolf river." The combined warriors of the Cheyenne and Arapaho organized a great war party against the Kiowa, Comanche, and Apache, to revenge the defeats of the previous two years. They attacked the camps of the three confederated tribes on Wolf creek (Gui P'a), a short distance above where that stream joins Beaver creek and forms the North Canadian, in Oklahoma. They killed several women who were out digging roots and some men whom they found out on the prairie after buffalo, but were unable to take the camp, as the Kiowa and their allies sheltered themselves in holes dug in the ground so as to form a circular breastwork. Among others the Kiowa lost Gui-k`ate and several other distinguished men.
The figure shows the warriors of the three confederate tribes, indicated by the three tipis, within the breastwork, with the bullets and arrows flying toward them, the bullets (from which it is evident that the Cheyenne had some guns) being represented by black dots with wavy lines streaming behind to indicate the motion.
While the Kiowa were all together in their winter camp some who had gone out upon the prairie discovered a party approaching. They returned and gave the alarm, upon which all the warriors went out and attacked the strangers, who proved to be Arapaho, killing them all. Set-t'an's father, Tĕn-píäk`ia ("Heart-eater"), was wounded in the leg in this fight, as indicated by the figure of a man, with blood flowing from a wound in the leg, below the battle picture.
Píhó K`ádó, "Peninsula sun dance." The peninsula or bend is indicated by a line bending around the medicine lodge. The dance is thus designated because held in the píhó, or peninsula, on the south side of the Washita, a short distance below Walnut creek, within the present limits of the reservation. This dance simply serves as a tally date, as nothing of more special interest is recorded for the summer. It would seem that the incursions of the Cheyenne and Arapaho had prevented the usual holding of the k`ádó for the two preceding years.
Tä´dalkop Sai, "Smallpox winter." The Kiowa were ravaged by the smallpox, the second visitation of that disease within their memory, the first having been in 1818. The disease is indicated in the conventional Indian manner by means of the figure of a man covered with red spots (compare figures from Mallery's Dakota calendar; see also 1861—62 and 1892). It was brought by some visiting Osage, and spread at once through the Kiowa, Apache, and Comanche, killing a great number in each tribe. The Kiowa and Apache fled to the Staked plain to escape it, and the Comanche in some other direction.
This was the great smallpox epidemic which began on the upper Missouri in the summer of 1837 and swept the whole plains north and south, destroying probably a third, if not more, of the native inhabitants, some whole tribes being nearly exterminated. The terribly fatal result of smallpox among Indians is due largely to the fact that their only treatment for this disease and for measles, both of which came to them from the whites, is the sweat bath followed by the cold plunge. In this instance the disease first broke out among the passengers of a steamer in the Missouri river above Fort Leavenworth, and although every effort was made to warn the Indians by sending runners in advance, the sickness was communicated to them. It appeared first among the Mandan about the middle of July, 1837, and practically destroyed that tribe, reducing them in a few weeks from about sixteen hundred to thirty-one souls. Their neighboring and allied tribes, the Arikara and Minitarí, were reduced immediately after from about four thousand to about half that number. The artist Catlin gives a melancholy account of the despair and destruction of the Mandan.
From the Mandan it spread to the north and west among the Crows, Asiniboin, and Blackfeet. Among the last named it is estimated to have destroyed from six to eight thousand (Clark, 13). As the plains tribes were then almost unknown to the general government, we find little of all this in the official reports beyond the mention that over sixty lodges of Yanktonais Dakota—perhaps four hundred persons—died by this disease about the same time (Report, 75). In 1838 it reached the Pawnee, being communicated by some Dakota prisoners captured by them, in the spring of that year. From the best information it seems probable that at least two thousand Pawnee perished (Clark, 14), about double the whole population of the tribe today. It probably continued southward through the Osage until it reached the Kiowa and Comanche the next year, although it is possible that it may have come more directly from the east through the emigrating Chickasaw, who brought it with them to Indian Territory in the spring of 1838 (Report, 76). We learn (Gregg, 6) that the disease ravaged New Mexico in the spring of 1840 and was again carried east to the frontiers of the United States by the Santa Fé traders.
Gúadal Dóhá K`údó, "Red-bluff sun dance," so called because held at Gúadal Dóha on the north side of the South Canadian, about the mouth of Mustang creek, in the panhandle of Texas. The (red) figure over the medicine lodge is intended to represent the "red bluff." The Red hills on the North Canadian above Fort Reno are called by the same name, but distinguished by the prefix Sä´k`odal, "Cheyenne."
The prominent event of this summer was the peace made by the Arapaho and Cheyenne with the Kiowa, Comanche, and Apache—a peace which, with trifling interruptions, has been kept to this day. According to the Kiowa account, the first overtures were made by the Cheyenne, who sent two delegates with proposals, but the Kiowa were suspicious and sent them back. The Cheyenne then made a second attempt, with more success, and a peace was concluded. The Arapaho were included in this treaty, but, as the Kiowa say, had always been in doubtful friendship, even when their allies, the Cheyenne, were at war with the Kiowa. On the occasion of the notable massacre of Cheyenne, in 1837, the Arapaho were camped with the Kiowa and left to give the alarm to their friends. This agrees with the conduct of the Arapaho in more recent times in remaining neutral while their Cheyenne confederates were at war with the whites.
Ká-i Sabíña Dam Sai, "Hide-quiver war expedition winter." The figure of a quiver is above the winter mark. This winter is so called on account of a notable war expedition made by the old men into Mexico, they equipping themselves with old bows and quivers of buffalo skin, as all the younger warriors had already gone against Mexico, carrying all the more efficient weapons and ornate quivers. The latter were usually of panther skin or Mexican leather, but never of deer, antelope, or buffalo skin if it could be avoided.