An instance of the employment of buffalo chips among the Crows in ceremonial dances of a warlike character is noted by an officer concerned in the Dakota campaign of 1876. Several officers and men had left camp for a short hunting trip—
They were sighted by the Crow scouts at some distance below and mistaken for Sioux, whereupon the latter made a tragical rush for our camp to give the alarm. As they appeared in view across the valley running in single file at a lively speed, occasionally deviating from a direct line to describe a small circle indicating that they had seen an enemy, quite an excitement was aroused in the camp. The soldiers gathered in throngs, while the Crows formed in line, shoulder to shoulder, behind a pile of buffalo chips placed for the purpose and stood there swaying their bodies and singing while the scouts approached. As the leader of the scouts came up he paused to kick over the pile of buffalo chips, which was equivalent to a solemn pledge to tell the truth, then sat down surrounded by his fellow Crows, and after resting a minute or two, told what he had seen (Montana, 1.)
Ä´`gótä K`ádó, "Chinaberry sun dance," so called because held near a thicket of these trees on Beaver creek (P'o P'a) or upper North Canadian river, a short distance above the junction of Wolf creek at Fort Supply, Oklahoma. In the figure the tree above the medicine lodge represents the chinaberry tree with its leaves and berries. No other event is recorded in connection with this summer.
Tañgíapá Ehótal-de Sai, "Winter that Tañgíapa was killed." The bust above the winter mark represents the man killed, whose name, signifying a male deer, is indicated by the connected figure of a male (horned) deer.
He had led a small war party into Tamaulipas or the adjacent region beyond the Rio Grande. They overtook a party of Mexicans, and Tañgíapa, who was mounted, was pursuing a Mexican on foot and was just about to stab him with a lance when the Mexican turned and shot him through the body, and was himself immediately killed by the Kiowa warrior. Tañgíapa was carried into the mountains, where he died the same evening. No other Indian was killed.
Paiñ K`ádó, "Dusty sun dance." It was held on the north bank of the North Canadian, just below the junction of Wolf creek, near where the last sun dance had taken place. It is so called on account of a strong wind that prevailed during the ceremony, which kept the air filled with dust.
When the dance was over and the Kiowa had left the spot and gone northward toward the Arkansas, a band of the Pawnee came to the place and stole from the center pole of the medicine lodge the offerings which had been hung upon it as a sacrifice, including a number of blankets and a flag which had been given by the Kiowa to the Osage when the two tribes had made peace in 1834. The figure over the medicine lodge represents a Pawnee—indicated by the peculiar scalplock, as already described—holding a flag in his hand.
The Pawnee followed the trail of the Kiowa, and on coming near them set fire to the prairie to attract their attention. Two young men of the Kiowa went out to learn the cause of the fire and found the Pawnee party, who said that they had come with presents and goods to make peace and to trade with the Kiowa. The young men rejoined their party with the news, and the Kiowa, under chiefs Dohasän and Set-ängya, turned back to meet the Pawnee band and escort them to a camping place. As the latter were on foot, in accordance with their usual custom, they asked the Kiowa to carry for them the skin bags which they said contained the presents. The Kiowa took the bags upon their horses, but as they went along, knowing well the tricky character of their ostensible friends, they opened several of the bags and found them filled, some with buffalo chips for fuel, and others with arrows, showing that the Pawnee force had come to fight as soon as a favorable opportunity offered. Disgusted by this treachery, they at once attacked and defeated them, killed the chief, who wore a shell gorget, and captured a boy, who was taken by Set-ängya himself. It was an expensive capture, however, as will appear later. The Kiowa lost two prominent men, Set-äyaí, "Bear-on-trees," and Tén-ät'ánte, "Little-heart." The fight occurred in Kansas, north of the head of Medicine-lodge creek.
Mä´ñyí Dó`gyähón-de Sai, "Winter the woman was frozen." The figure over the winter mark represents the woman, indicated by the dress and belt with disks of German silver.
During the winter the present chief, Zépko-eét-te, "Big-bow," then a young man, stole a very pretty woman whose husband was away on the warpath, and took her to his own home camp. On coming near his father's tipi he concealed the woman among the trees and went into the tipi to get something to eat before going on. His father, who knew what he had done, held him and prevented his return to the woman waiting outside, who remained there exposed to the extreme cold until her feet were frozen.
To "steal" a woman is to elope with or take possession of her in a manner contrary to tribal usage, i. e., secretly and without having made the customary presents to her relatives by which the transaction becomes ratified as a marriage.
Á`pätáte (K`a-t'ógyä or Hâñt'ógyä-k`ía) Ehótal-de Pai, "Summer that Touch-the-clouds (Knife-shirt, or Iron-shirt-man) was killed." There was no sun dance this year. The Pawnee warriors killed a Cheyenne chief who wore a cuirass. The cross marks over the human figure represent the cuirass, and the tree with leaves shows that it occurred during the summer.
At a great Cheyenne camp upon a stream, apparently in Kansas or Nebraska, known to the Kiowa as Hâ´ñtso P'a, "Cannonball (literally, metal rock) River," the Cheyenne, Arapaho, and some Dakota had made medicine for a combined expedition against the Pawnee, to which they invited the Kiowa and Apache, who were camped at the time on Koñyä´daldä P'a, "Black-hill river," in Kansas, north of the Arkansas. About half the warriors of the two latter tribes accepted the invitation, and the united force, moving with all their women, children, and tipi outfits, started against the Pawnee. They met the enemy, but were defeated, with the loss of the Cheyenne chief Wóifdóĭsh, "Touch-the-clouds," called by the Kiowa Á`pätáte, "Far-up," otherwise known as Hañt'ógyä-k`ía, "Iron-shirt-man," from a cuirass which he wore and which had probably been procured originally from Mexico, where the Kiowa once captured another.
The official report for the year thus notices the encounter:
A war party of Osages, Kioways, and Kaws, consisting of about four hundred warriors, went in pursuit of the Pawnees while out on their last hunt. They overtook the Pawnees and attacked them, but, being greatly outnumbered by the Pawnees, they ingloriously fled, leaving on the ground one war chief killed, and having killed and scalped one Pawnee woman (Report, 81).
The Pawnee boy captured by Set-ängya in the summer of 1851 escaped, taking with him two horses, including the finest one in the tribe, a bay race horse known as Gúădal-tséyu, "Little-red" or "Red-pet." The figure above the winter mark shows the Pawnee boy, distinguished by the peculiar headdress of his tribe, holding the bay (red) horse by the halter. The importance of the horse to the equestrian Kiowa is shown by the fact that this is recorded as the important event of the winter.
Bíăsot K`ádó, "Showery sun dance," so called because there were continual showers during the dance. The figure above the medicine lodge is intended to represent the drizzling rain descending from the black clouds overhead, with occasional red flashes of lightning. Compare the corresponding rain and cloud symbols given below. The dance was held at the same place where the "dusty" sun dance was celebrated in 1851, near the present Fort Supply.
This sun dance is distinguished for a deliberate violation of the taíme rules by Ten-píäk`ia, "Heart-eater," a noted warrior and medicine-man, rival of Ansó`te, the taíme keeper, and father of Set-t'an, the author of this calendar. One of the strictest regulations of the sun dance was the taboo against mirrors, which form part of the toilet equipment of nearly every Indian, but which must not even be brought near the taíme of the Kiowa. Notwithstanding this, Ten-píäk`ia, in defiance of the medicine and its priest, deliberately rode around inside the circle with a small mirror while the taíme was exposed, and afterward tried to poison Ansó`te by scraping off the mercury from the back and mixing it with some tobacco which he gave to the priest to smoke. Ansó`te took one puff, but detecting something wrong, put away the pipe, saying, "There is something there of which I am afraid." Soon afterward Ten-píäk`ia, while hunting buffalo, was thrown from his horse and killed, which was regarded as a speedy punishment of his sacrilege.
Although Indian tradition records frequent instances of careless and unthinking neglect of some of the numerous taboos and other regulations in connection with sacred matters, such a deliberate defiance of their ordinances is almost unexampled; more rare, indeed, than heresy in the old days when Europe held but one religious doctrine. It is of interest as showing that even among savages attempts are sometimes made by bolder spirits to break away from the bonds of mental slavery. A somewhat similar incident is recorded for 1861.
Soon after the last sun dance a war party went into Chihuahua (Toñhéñ-t'a`ká-i-dómbe, "waterless Mexican country"), east of the Sierra Madre, where they met and attacked a mule train. The Mexicans made a circle of the wagons, with the mules on the inside, and prepared to defend themselves. A distinguished warrior named Pä´ñgyägíate succeeded in entering the circle and was striking the mules with his bow, equivalent to putting his seal of ownership upon all thus struck, when he was shot and killed by a Mexican who had approached him unseen. No other Kiowa was killed. Pá-tadal was one of this party.
BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY— SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LXXVII
SAND MOSAIC OF THE HOPI ANTELOPE PRIESTS, (AFTER FEWKES).
The man killed was one of the Kâ´itséñko (see summer 1846), as indicated by the headdress and the red sash of the order pendent from his shoulder. He is further designated by his shield—represented hanging at his side—which was made by Äk`ódalte, "Feather-necklace," and the picture of which is at once recognized by the old warriors of the tribe. The name Pä´ñgyägíate may be rendered "Sacrifice" or "Sacrifice-man," from pä´ñgyä, a sacrifice or offering "thrown away" on the hills as a gift to the sun.
Äyä´daldä´ P'a K`ádó, "Timber-mountain creek sun dance." This dance was held upon the creek upon which the most important treaty of the Kiowa was afterward made (see winter 1867—68). The event of the summer was the killing of Black-horse by the Sauk and other allied tribes.
The brother of Set-ĭmkía, "Pushing-bear," more commonly known as Stumbling-bear, had been killed by the Pawnee, and at this dance he sent the pipe around as a summons for a great expedition against that tribe. Other tribes were invited to join the Kiowa, and a large war party set out, consisting of several hundred warriors of seven tribes—Kiowa, Apache, Comanche, Cheyenne, Arapaho, Osage, and some Crows. They crossed the Arkansas and proceeded to the northeast until they reached Gúigyä P'a, "Pawnee river" (Smoky Hill), where they met a small party of about eighty Säkíbo (i. e., Sauk and Fox), with a few Potawatomi, three cognate tribes which had been removed from beyond the Mississippi to reservations in eastern Kansas. The latter advanced against the Kiowa, who summoned them to halt, but notwithstanding the great disparity in numbers, the eastern Indians at once attacked the prairie warriors. Securing a sheltered position, and being all well armed with rifles with which "they hit every time," while the Kiowa and their allies were in the open prairie and armed chiefly with bows, the Sauk not only kept them off but defeated them with the loss of about twenty killed, among whom were twelve of the Kiowa, including Tseñ-kóñkyä, "Black-horse," a prominent war chief.
This is the story as given by the Kiowa themselves, who ascribe their disastrous defeat by a comparative handful of men to the rifles in the hands of the Sauk warriors. This battle occurred either on Smoky-hill or Saline river, in Kansas, about midway between the present Fort Harker and Fort Hays.
Although Set-ĭmkía says that the expedition was originally organized against the Pawnee to avenge the killing of his brother by that tribe, other informants state that it was organized and led by Tseñ-kóñkyä, the man who was killed, for the special purpose of exterminating the immigrant tribes, and this statement agrees with the official accounts. The Indian Report for 1854 contains an extended notice of this great war party, which went after wool and came back shorn.
In the summer of that year the agent for the southern plains tribes started for the Indian rendezvous near Fort Atkinson, on the Arkansas, with a large train of goods for distribution in accordance with the terms of the treaty made at that point in the previous year, having first sent messengers ahead to inform the Indians of his approach.
The Indians were encamped on Pawnee fork, at the crossing of the Santa Fé road, where they were collected in larger numbers than had ever been known to assemble on the Arkansas before. Old traders estimate the number at twelve to fifteen hundred lodges, and the horses and mules at from forty to fifty thousand head. The entire Kiowa and Prairie Comanches were there; several hundred of Texas or Woods Comanches had come over; the Prairie Apaches, one band of Arapahoes and two bands of Cheyennes and the Osages composed the grand council. They had met for the purpose of forming a war party, in order, as they in their strong language said, to wipe out all frontier Indians they could find on the plains. Two days previous to my arrival they broke up camp and started north. As soon as I heard that they were gone I sent two runners to try and bring them back. They, however, declined coming, and sent word that they would soon return, as it would take but a short time to clear the plains of all frontier Indians. They were doomed to be disappointed, as other nations, great in their own imaginations, have been. At some place near Kansas river they met about one hundred Sac and Fox Indians and the fight commenced, and from their own account lasted about three hours, when, to their great surprise, the combined forces were compelled to retreat, leaving their dead on the field, which Indians never do unless badly whipped. They report their loss at about sixteen killed and one hundred wounded. From the best information I can get, the Sacs and Foxes were as much surprised at the result as the others, for there is no doubt but that they would have run too if they could have seen a hole to get out at. They had taken shelter in a ravine and were for a long time surrounded. The prairie Indians were armed with the bow and arrow, while the others had fine rifles. One is a formidable weapon in close quarters, but worthless at more than about fifty yards. The rifle told almost every shot. It is easily accounted for why one hundred whipped fifteen hundred. The former had a weapon to fight with; the latter had none at the distance they were fighting. I learn that the Sacs and Foxes lost six killed, but they were killed with the rifle. The Osages have fine guns, and they must have shot them, for I am certain the other Indians have nothing in the shape of guns, except a few Northwest shotguns, and they are of but little use. The Sacs and Foxes are satisfied that the Osages did them the only damage they received, and as an evidence I learn that war has been declared between the nations, and already some scalps have been taken. This may save the government from whipping them (the Osages), as it is certain somebody will have it to do soon (Report, 82).
In his report for the same year the Indian superintendent says:
I am officially advised that on the arrival of Agent Whitfield at Fort Atkinson, on the Arkansas river, with the annuity goods for the Comanches, Kiowas, and Apaches, in July last, he found that they had all gone on a war party against the tribes of the north, confident from their numbers, estimated at fifteen hundred, to gain an easy victory over any tribes they should encounter. In the vicinity of Smoky Hill they came up with a party of Sacs and Foxes and a few Pottawatomies, the whole not exceeding two hundred [sic] in number. The Comanches, believing, to use the words of one of their chiefs, that they could "eat up" so small a force in a few minutes, made a general charge. The Sacs allowed them to approach until within a hundred yards, when they opened upon them a well-directed fire from their rifles, which, being unexpected, appalled, and for the moment checked, their assailants. Three times these charges were repeated, and each time with a like fatal result. The Comanches at length retired, crestfallen and dispirited, having twenty-six killed and over one hundred wounded. On their return to Fort Atkinson their appearance and deportment were quite changed. They seemed humble and dejected, and quietly and submissively received their annuities and retired. The loss of the Sacs and Foxes is reported to be very inconsiderable (Report, 83).
The agent for the Sac and Fox tribes gives a sequel which illustrates Indian vengeance:
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).
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.
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.
´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."
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.
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.
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.
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).
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
T'ené-badaí, "Bird-appearing," was killed. The figure shows a man shot through the body, with blood streaming from his mouth, while the bird above is intended to indicate his name. As there was no sun dance this year, the medicine lodge is omitted.
A part of the Kiowa tribe was south of the Arkansas, while the rest, with the Kwáhadi and other western Comanche, under the chiefs Täbi-nä´năkă (Hears-the-sun) and Ĭsä-hä´bĭt (Wolf-lying-down), were camped north of that stream, when one day the latter party discovered a large body of people crossing the river. Täbi-nä'năka went out to reconnoiter, and returned with the report that there were a great many of them and that they were probably enemies. The Kiowa and Comanche at once broke camp and fled northward, and on their way met the Cheyenne and Arapaho, to whom they told the news, whereupon the latter also fled with them. By this time it had been discovered that the pursuers were white soldiers, accompanied by a large body of Caddo, Wichita, Tonkawa, and Pénätĕka Comanche. As they fled, the Kiowa and their allies kept spies on the lookout, who one night reported their enemies asleep, when they turned and attacked them at daylight, killing a soldier, but losing a Comanche named Silver-knife (properly Tin-knife, Hâ´ñt'aiñ-k`á in Kiowa), who was shot through the neck with an arrow, and a Kiowa named T'ené-badaí, "Bird-appearing," noted for his handsome appearance, who was killed by a Caddo. The engagement took place in Kansas, somewhere northward from Smoky-hill river (Pe P'a).