MARTIAL CHARACTER OF THE TRIBES — THEIR MODE OF FIGHTING — DECLARATION OF WAR, AND APPLICATION FOR VOLUNTEERS — WEAPONS — THE PLAIN AND THE SPIKED CLUB — THE SHIELD, AND THE INGENIOUS MODE OF MAKING IT — THE LONG SPEAR — THE BOW AND ITS CONSTRUCTION — MODE OF SHOOTING — THE STONE AND IRON TOMAHAWKS — THE SCALPING-KNIFE — MODE OF SCALPING — USE MADE OF THE LOCKS — THE SCALP DANCE — THE EXPLOITS OF MAH-TO-TOH-PA — SHAM BATTLES OF THE BOYS — THE TORTURE OF PRISONERS — TWO WONDERFUL ESCAPES — HOW THE CAMANCHEES FIGHT — SMOKING HORSES.

The North American Indians are essentially a warlike people, measuring their respect for a man almost entirely by his conduct in battle and the number of enemies which he has slain.

The very constitution of the tribes, which prevents any leader from enforcing obedience upon his followers, as is done with civilized armies, entirely precludes the possibility of such military manœuvres as those which are employed in civilized countries, where bodies of men are wielded by the order of one individual. The leader can only give general orders, and leave his followers to carry them out in the way that best suits each individual. Consequently, war among these tribes is much of the guerilla kind, where each combatant fights almost independently of the other, and the moral effect of mutual defence and support is therefore wanting.

A few very simple manœuvres are known to them, and practised by them from infancy, but they lead to nothing more than skirmishing, the chief being merely the leader of his men, and expected to be in the post of danger. The idea of a general directing the battle from a place of comparative safety is unknown to them.

Declaration of war is made in the full council of chiefs and doctors, the majority deciding the question. The chief who is to lead the expedition then asks for volunteers by sending his reddened war pipe through the tribe by means of his messengers, and each warrior who draws a puff of smoke through its stem by that act enlists himself.

After the pipe has gone its round and a sufficient number of men have volunteered, a grand war dance is got up in front of the chief’s house, where has been set up a post covered with red paint, the sign of war. The newly enlisted warriors make their appearance with all their weapons, and execute a solemn dance, each man in succession dancing up to the reddened post and striking his axe into it as a public ratification of his promise. As has been mentioned, the leader always wears every decoration to which he is entitled, so as to make himself as conspicuous a mark as possible, while the braves and warriors wear scarcely any clothing, and have their faces so disguised with black and red paint that even their most intimate friends can scarcely recognize them.

As among us, white and red are the signs of peace and war, and each leader carries with him two small flags, one of white bison’s hide, and the other of reddened leather. These are kept rolled round the staff like a railway flag-signal, and only produced when required.

At the present day fire-arms have superseded the original weapons of the American Indians, and much changed the mode of warfare. We will, however, contemplate the warfare of these tribes as it was conducted before the introduction of these weapons, when the bow, the club, the axe, the spear, and in some districts the lasso, were the only weapons employed.

In illustration No. 4, on page 1265, are seen examples of the clubs and shield, drawn from specimens in the Christy Collection. The clubs are short, seldom exceeding a yard in length, and mostly eight or nine inches shorter. They are almost invariably made upon one or other of two models, examples of which are seen in the illustration. The primitive idea of a club is evidently derived from a stick with a knob at the end, and that is the form which is most in vogue. In the common kind of club the whole of the weapon is quite plain, but in many specimens the native has imbedded a piece of bone or spike of iron in the ball or bulb at the end of the club, and has decorated the handle with feathers, bits of cloth, scalps, and similar ornaments.

The second kind of club is shaped something like the stock of a gun, and has always a spike projecting from the angle. In most cases this spike is nothing more than a pointed piece of iron or the head of a spear, but in some highly valued weapons a very broad steel blade is employed, its edges lying parallel with the length of the weapon. Such a club as this is often decorated with some hundreds of brass headed nails driven into it so as to form patterns, and is besides ornamented so profusely with strings and feathers, and long trailing scalp-locks five or six feet in length, that the efficacy of the weapon must be seriously impeded by them.

I have handled both kinds of clubs, and found this latter weapon to be most awkward and unwieldy, its thick, squared, sloping handle giving scarcely any power to the grasp, while the abundant ornaments are liable to entanglement in the other weapons that are carried about the person.

The shield is made by a very ingenious process from the thick hide which covers the shoulders of the bull bison. Making a shield is a very serious, not to say solemn, business, and is conducted after the following manner.

The warrior selects a piece of hide at least twice as large as the intended shield, and from the hoof and joints of the bison prepares a strong glue. He then digs in the ground a hole the exact size of the shield, and almost two feet in diameter, and makes in it a smouldering fire of decayed wood. These arrangements being completed, his particular friends assemble for the purpose of dancing, singing, and smoking round the shield maker, and invoking the Great Spirit to render the weapon proof against spears and arrows.

The fire being lighted and the glue heated, the skin is stretched above the hole by means of numerous pegs round the edge, which keep it a few inches above the ground. As soon as the skin is thoroughly heated, the glue is spread over it and rubbed carefully into the fibres. This operation causes the skin to contract forcibly, and at the same time to become thicker. As it contracts, the family of the shield maker busy themselves in loosening the pegs, and shifting them inward, so as to yield with the contraction of the skin, and at the same time to keep it on the full stretch. This goes on until the skin has absorbed all the glue which it is capable of receiving, and has contracted to the very utmost. By this time it is only half as wide, though twice as thick, as it was when first placed on the fire, and is allowed to cool slowly, after which it is carefully trimmed into shape, furnished with a strap, painted with the “totem” or symbol of the owner, and decorated with the usual ornaments.

The completed shield is rather flexible, but is so strong that it will resist the direct blow of a spear or arrow, and if turned a little obliquely will throw off even a pistol bullet. The specimen shown in the illustration is painted light green with a white pattern. Above it is a cover made of very thin and soft leather, which is thrown over it in case of rain. The long strap is for the purpose of throwing the shield when not in use over the shoulders, where it hangs, together with the bow and quiver.

The spear presents nothing especially worthy of remark, except that the blade is leaf-shaped, long, and narrow, and the shaft is often so covered with feathers and scalp-locks that there is barely enough space for the hand of the wielder. It sometimes measures fourteen or fifteen feet in length.

Next come the bows and arrows. The bow is always a very short and apparently insignificant weapon, being mostly used on horseback. It scarcely ever exceeds three feet in length, and is mostly six inches shorter, so that it looks more like a child’s toy than a weapon fit for a warrior’s hand. Yet, with this apparently feeble bow, the American Indian can drive an arrow completely through a man, and some of their best hunters are known to have sent their arrows fairly through the body of a bison, so that the missile fell on the ground after passing through the huge animal.

These bows are made of wood, horn, or bone. Ash is considered the best wood for bows, and it is strengthened enormously by having the wet sinews of the bison or deer fastened along the back, and so worked and kneaded into it that they appear to be of one substance with the wood. Several layers of sinews are often used, so that, in spite of its small size, the bow is a very powerful one. Some of them are made of the horn of the mountain or big horn sheep, and a few which are the most valuable are made of bone, probably obtained on the Pacific coast from the spermaceti whale, and sent inland by the traders. The owners of these bows do not like to have the material questioned, and check the interrogation with a remark of “Hush! that is medicine.” One of these bows is in the Christy Collection. I have tried several of the bows in Mr. Catlin’s collection, and found them to be very elastic, and, in spite of their small size, very stiff.

The arrow is headed with flint or bone, and when used against the enemy is usually poisoned. The feathers are taken from the wing of the wild turkey. (See page 1290.) When a warrior is fully armed, he has a hundred or so of these arrows in a neat quiver made of deer or cougar skin, and tastefully decorated with patterns woven in stained porcupine quills.

In an illustration on page 1318, the reader may see the usual costume of the Indian when equipped for battle. The portrait is that of Ee-a-chin-che-a (the red thunder) son of Black Moccasin of the Minatarees. He was at this time one of the bravest and most desperate warriors of this tribe. He has on his war-dress, with quiver slung, and shield upon his arm. “In this plight,” says Mr. Catlin, “sans headdress, sans robe, and sans everything that might be a useless encumbrance,—with the body chiefly naked, and profusely bedaubed with red and black paint, so as to form an almost perfect disguise, the Indian warriors sally forth to war.” The chief only plumes himself, and loaded with his ornaments and trophies renders himself a conspicuous target for the enemy.

The Indians are not celebrated for their skill in marksmanship, which indeed is scarcely required, as they never shoot at long ranges, like the old English bowmen. But they are wonderfully skilled in discharging a number of arrows in rapid succession, a practised archer being able to throw twenty or more in a minute while galloping at full speed.

There is a game much practised by the various tribes, by means of which this peculiar modification of skill in archery is kept at the highest pitch. The young men assemble with their bows and arrows, and each brings several articles of property which he is willing to stake on his skill, and throws one of them on the ground. When every one has thrown down his stake, the first archer advances with his bow and ten arrows clenched in his left hand. He then draws the arrows and shoots them upward as rapidly as he can, the object being to throw as many arrows as possible into the air before the first arrow has reached the ground. He who gets the greatest number simultaneously in the air wins the stakes. Some archers are so skilful that they will discharge the eighth arrow before the first has touched the ground.

We now come to the axe or tomahawk. The two figures in illustration No. 2, page 1265, afford excellent examples of the principal forms of this weapon; namely, that which is made entirely by themselves, and that which is partly made in Europe and finished by themselves. The most primitive tomahawk is that which is made of a stone fixed to a wooden handle. Fig. 2, on the above mentioned page, shows how the head is fixed to the handle, exactly as a blacksmith fixes his punches. The stone axe-heads which are found so abundantly as relics of a bygone age, were fastened on their handles in precisely the same manner. This kind of weapon is now so rare that it is scarcely possible to procure a specimen.

The steel-headed tomahawk has in most tribes superseded that which is made of stone. Vast numbers of these steel axe-heads are made in Birmingham, and sold at a very high price to the Indians.

The form which is most valued is that which is shown in fig. 1, page 1265. It is a “pipe-tomahawk,” the upper part of the head being formed into a pipe-bowl, and the smoke drawn through the handle, which is plentifully decorated with porcupine quills and feathers. This is specially valued by the American Indians, because it saves them the trouble of carrying a separate pipe, and is most formidable as a weapon, and in time of peace is an efficient axe for chopping firewood and similar purposes. The tomahawk is used both in close combat and as a missile, in which latter capacity it is hurled with wonderful force and accuracy of aim.

Beside these weapons, every warrior carries the scalping knife, which, with the poniard of early English times, is equally useful for war and domestic purposes. Almost without an exception every scalping knife used in North America is nothing more than a common butcher’s knife, made in Sheffield for sixpence, and sold to the Indians at the price of a horse. After all, it is perhaps the very best instrument that they could use. One of my friends, an experienced hunter, said that he discarded all his elaborate and costly hunting knives, and preferred the Sheffield butcher’s knife, which combines the advantages of strength, lightness, and the capability of taking an edge like a razor.

Every one has heard of the custom of scalping as practised by these tribes, a custom which takes the place of the preserved heads of the Dyak, and Mundurucú. When an American Indian slays an enemy, he removes the scalp as a proof of his victory. The scalp is a piece of skin, with the hair attached to it, taken from the very crown of the head, so as to exhibit that portion of the skin where the hair radiates from a centre. The size of the scalp is of no importance, provided that it only contain this indispensable mark.

Generally, the piece of skin secured is almost as large as the palm of the hand, and it is taken in the following manner. The enemy being fallen, the victor sits behind him on the ground, seizes the scalp-lock with his left hand, and with the knife makes two semicircular incisions in the skin, cutting it completely down to the bone. He then twists the scalp-lock round both his hands, puts his feet on the victim’s shoulders, and with a violent pull drags off the circular piece of skin with the hair adhering to it.

This whole scene (illustrated on page 1284) is enacted in much less time than it has taken to write, the Indians being well practised in their sham fights before they come to taking scalps in actual battle. Brandishing the scalp in one hand and the knife in the other, the exultant conqueror utters the terrible “scalping yell,” which even when given in a mock battle seems as if it were uttered by a demon rather than a man.

The scalped man is always supposed to be dead or dying, and, as the scalp is always accepted as a proof of death, the native warrior would never scalp a man whom he thought likely to recover. There have, however, been many instances, where in the heat of battle a man has been scalped while stunned, though without a mortal wound, and has afterward recovered and lived for many years.

When the battle is over and the warrior returns to his home, he dresses the scalp for preservation. This is usually done by stretching it in a sort of battledore, made by bending a flexible stick and lashing the ends together, and it is then solemnly “danced” before it takes its place with the other valuables of the owner. Some of the scalps are quite small, not larger than a penny, and are hung on the bridles of the horses, or the handles of clubs.

Generally, however, they are, when quite dry, painted on the inside so as to resemble a human face, and hung to the end of a long, slight pole. On a fine day, the head chief of an encampment mostly orders that the scalps should be hung out, and sets the example, by protruding from the top of his own hut the pole on which are hung the scalps which he has taken. All the warriors at once follow his example, so that by walking round the village and counting the scalps, a stranger can learn the standing of every warrior.

It has been mentioned that many of the scalps are very small. Their limited size is thus accounted for. If a warrior be hurried, as is mostly the case when scalping a fallen man in the heat of battle, he contents himself with the scalp alone. But, if he should have leisure, he removes the whole of the hair-bearing portion of the skin, and treats it as follows. He first cuts out a small circular piece containing the crown of the head, this being the actual scalp. The remainder of the hair he divides into little locks, and with them he fringes the seams of his leggings, the arms and edges of his coat, the shaft of his spear, the handle of his club, etc., etc. The whole of Mah-to-toh-pa’s dress was covered with fringes made from the hair of those whom he slew in battle.

A dress thus ornamented is valued beyond all price, and there is scarcely any price sufficiently high to tempt a warrior to part with these trophies of his valor.

The “scalp dance” is a ceremony quite in keeping with the custom of securing the trophy. A scalp dance of the Sioux is thus described by Mr. Catlin:—“Among this tribe, as I learned whilst residing with them, it is danced in the night by the light of their torches, just before going to bed. When a war party returns from a war excursion, bringing home with them the scalps of their enemies, they generally dance them for fifteen nights in succession, vaunting forth the most extravagant boasts of their wonderful prowess in war, whilst they brandish their war weapons in their hands.

“A number of young women are selected to aid (though they do not actually join in) the dance, by stepping into the centre of the ring and holding up the scalps that have been recently taken, while the warriors dance, or rather jump, around in a circle, brandishing their weapons, and barking and yelping in the most frightful manner, all jumping on both feet at a time, with a simultaneous stamp, and blow, and thrust of their weapons, with which it would seem as if they were actually cutting and carving each other to pieces. During these frantic leaps and yells, every man distorts his face to the utmost power of his muscles, darting about his glaring eyeballs, and snapping his teeth as if he were in the heat—and actually breathing through his nostrils the very hissing death—of battle.

“No description that can be written could ever convey more than a feeble outline of the frightful effects of these scenes enacted in the dead and darkness of night, under the glaring light of their blazing flambeaux; nor could all the years allotted to mortal man in the least obliterate or deface the vivid impression that one scene of this kind would leave upon his memory.”

Mr. Catlin suggests, with much reason, that these dances are propitiatory of the spirits of the slain men, showing how highly their valor was prized by the conquerors, and the great respect and estimation in which they were held, though the fortune of war had gone against them.

A good example of the war career of an American Indian chief may be gained by the exploits of Mah-to-toh-pa, as displayed on his robe, and explained by him to Mr. Catlin. It was covered with twelve groups of figures, which will be briefly described.

His first exploit was killing a Sioux chief, who had already killed three Riccarees. This feat entitled him to wear eagles’ quills on his lance, and in the second group he is shown as killing with this lance a Shienne chief, who challenged him to single combat. The third scene represents a combat in which Mah-to-toh-pa was forsaken by his party, and yet, though badly wounded, killed a Shienne warrior in the presence of some thirty of his fellows.

The fourth scene shows a great chief of the Shiennes killed by this warrior, whose splendid headdress was assumed by his slayer. The fifth picture represents a strange episode in a battle. Mah-to-toh-pa was travelling with a party of Riccarees, when they were fired upon by a war party of Sioux. The Riccarees fled, leaving Mah-to-toh-pa, who sprang from his horse, faced the Sioux on foot, killed one of them, and secured his scalp.

The sixth drawing illustrates a most remarkable piece of personal history. A Riccaree brave, named Won-ga-tap, shot the brother of Mah-to-toh-pa with an arrow, drove his well-known spear into the body of the fallen man, and left it there, as a challenge to the surviving brother. The challenge was accepted. Mah-to-toh-pa found the body, recognized the spear, and vowed that he would slay the murderer of his brother with the same weapon. Four years passed without an opportunity to fulfil the vow, when he could no longer brook delay, but dashed out of his house with the fatal spear in his hand, and a small wallet of parched corn at his belt. He told the Mandans to mention his name no more unless he returned victorious with the scalp of Won-ga-tap.

Amid the awe-struck silence of his people he left the village, and disappeared over the grassy bluffs. For two hundred miles he travelled alone and by night, always concealing himself by day, until he reached the Riccaree village, which he boldly entered, mixing with the inhabitants as if he were a friendly stranger. He knew the position of Won-ga-tap’s hut, and after having seen that the intended victim and his wife had smoked the evening pipe and were in bed, he walked gently into the hut, sat down by the fire, took some meat out of the cooking-pot, and began to eat in order to strengthen himself for the fulfilment of his task. This was according to the hospitable custom of the American Indians. If a man be hungry, he need not ask for food, but has only to go to the nearest hut and help himself.

The repast being ended, Mah-to-toh-pa took the still warm pipe, filled it with tobacco, and began to smoke it, breathing, with every curl of smoke, a prayer for success in his undertaking. Once or twice the wife of Won-ga-tap asked her husband who was eating in their hut, but he replied that some one must be hungry, and was helping himself.

When the last smoke-wreath had ascended, Mah-to-toh-pa turned toward the bed, and with his foot pushed an ember on the fire, so as to make a blaze by which he might see the exact position of his victim. In an instant he leaped toward the bed, drove the spear through the heart of Won-ga-tap, tore off his scalp, snatched the spear from his heart, and darted out of the hut with the scalp of his victim in one hand, and in the other the fatal spear, with the blood of Won-ga-tap already drying over that of the man he had killed four years before. The whole village was in an uproar, but Mah-to-toh-pa succeeded in making his escape, and on the sixth day after leaving the Mandan village, he re-entered it with the scalp of his enemy. A portrait of this celebrated chief is given on the 1277th page.

Another of these pictures records a single combat fought with a Shienne chief in presence of both war parties. They fought on horseback, until Mah-to-toh-pa’s powder-horn was shattered by a bullet. The Shienne chief flung away his gun, horn, and bullet pouch, and challenged the foe with bow and arrow. Both parties were wounded in the limbs, but kept their bodies covered with their shields.

Presently Mah-to-toh-pa’s horse fell with an arrow in its heart. The Shienne chief immediately dismounted, and proceeded with the fight until he had exhausted his arrows, when he flung the empty quiver on the ground, challenging with his knife, the only weapon which he had left. The challenge was accepted, and they rushed on each other, but Mah-to-toh-pa had left his knife at home, and was unarmed. He closed with his antagonist, and a struggle ensued for the knife. Mah-to-toh-pa was dreadfully wounded in the hands, but at last wrested the knife from his adversary, drove it into his heart, and in silence claimed the scalp of his fallen foe.

On another occasion he alone faced sixty Assineboins, drove them back, and killed one of them. It was in this battle that he earned the name of “Four Bears,” by which must be understood the grizzly bear, the most terrible quadruped of North America. This is a sample of the mode in which warfare is conducted by the North American Indians—a strange mixture of lofty and chivalrous nobility with cunning and deceit. In fact, in contemplating these interesting tribes, we are thrown back to the time of Ulysses, whose great fame was equally derived from his prowess in battle and his skill in deceiving his foes, or, in other words, of being a most accomplished liar.

The men are taught the operations of war from a very early age. Every morning, all the lads who are above seven years old and upward, and have not been admitted among the men, are taken to some distance from the village, where they are divided into two opposing bodies, each under the command of an experienced warrior. They are armed with little bows, arrows made of grass stems, and wooden knives stuck in their belts. In their heads they slightly weave a plaited tuft of grass to represent the scalp-lock.

The two parties then join in sham combat, which is made to resemble a real fight as much as possible. When any of the combatants is struck in a vital part, he is obliged to fall as if dead, when his antagonist goes through the operation of scalping with his wooden knife, places the scalp in his belt, utters the wild yell, and again joins in the battle. As no one may fight without a scalp-lock, the fallen adversary is obliged to withdraw from the fight. This goes on for an hour or so, when the mock fight is stopped, and the lads are praised or rebuked according to the skill and courage which they have shown, the number of scalps at the belt being the surest criterion of merit.

It is well known that after a battle the American Indians torture their prisoners, and that they display the most diabolical ingenuity in devising the most excruciating torments. Still, there has been much exaggeration in the accounts of this custom. They do not torture all their prisoners, selecting only a few for this purpose, the others being absorbed into the tribe by marriage with the widows whose husbands have been killed in battle, and enjoying equal rights with the original members of the tribe.

Neither is the torture practised with the idea of revenge, though it is likely that vengeful feelings will arise when the victim is bound to the stake. Superstition seems to be at the root of the torture, which is intended to propitiate the spirit of those members of their own tribe who have suffered the like treatment at the hands of their adversaries. The doomed warrior accepts his fate with the imperturbable demeanor which is an essential part of a North American Indian’s character, and, for the honor of his tribe, matches his endurance against the pain which his enemies can inflict.

Tortures too terrible even to be mentioned are tried in succession; for when the victim is once bound to the stake, the Indian never has been known to relent in his purpose, which is to extort acknowledgments of suffering from the captured warrior, and thereby to disgrace not only himself but the tribe to which he belongs. He, in the meanwhile, prides himself on showing his enemies how a warrior can die. He chants the praises of his tribe and their deeds, boasts of all the harm that he has done to the tribe into whose power he has fallen, ridicules their best warriors, and endeavors to anger them to such an extent that they may dash out his brains, and so spare him further torture. He will even laugh at their attempts to extort cries of pain from a warrior, and tell them that they do not know how to torture.

One remarkable instance of endurance in a captured Creek warrior is told by Mr. Adair. The man had been captured by the Shawnees, and forced to run the gauntlet naked through all the tribe; he had been tied to the stake, and was horribly tortured with gun-barrels heated redhot. All the efforts of his enemies only drew from him taunts and jeers, to the effect that the Shawnees were so ignorant that they did not even know how to torture a bound prisoner. Great warrior though he was, he had fallen into their hands through some fault in addressing the Great Spirit, but that he had enough virtue left to show them the difference between a Creek and a Shawnee. Let them only unbind him, and allow him to take a redhot gun-barrel out of the fire, and he would show them a much better way of torturing than any which they knew.

His demeanor had excited the respect of the Shawnees, and they unbound him and took him to the fire, in which were lying the redhot tubes. Unhesitatingly, he picked up one of them with his bare hands, sprang at the surrounding crowd, striking right and left with this fearful weapon, cleared a passage through the astonished warriors, and leaped down a precipice into the river. He swam the river amid a shower of bullets, gained a little island in its midst, and, though instantly followed by numbers of his disconcerted enemies, actually succeeded in getting away. In spite of the injuries which he had suffered, and which would have killed an ordinary European, he recovered, and lived for many years, the implacable foe of the Shawnees.

A somewhat similar adventure occurred to a Katahba warrior, who was pursued by a band of Senecas, and at last captured, though not until he had contrived to kill seven of them. A warrior of such prowess was guarded with double vigilance, and he was brought to the Seneca village for the torture, after having been beaten at every encampment through which the party had passed.

As the torturers were taking him to the stake, he, like the Creek warrior, burst from his captors, and flung himself into the river, swimming across in safety. He paused for a moment on the opposite bank to express emphatically his contempt for the pursuers who were crowding down the bank and into the river, and then dashed forward so fast that he gained nearly a day’s journey upon the foremost of the pursuers.

Five of the enemy pressed upon him, and, though naked and unarmed, he deliberately waited for them. At night, when they were all asleep, not having thought a sentry needful, he crept up to the party, snatched one of their tomahawks, and killed them all before they could wake. He scalped them, clothed and armed himself, invigorated his wasted frame with food, and set off to the spot where he had slain the seven foes as he was first pursued. They had been buried for the sake of preserving their scalps, but he found the place of burial, scalped them all, and not until then did he make for his home, which he reached in safety.

When the rest of the pursuers came to the place where the five had been killed, they held a council, and determined that a man who could do such deeds unarmed must be a wizard whom they could not hope to resist, and that the best course that they could pursue was to go home again.

The reader will not fail to notice the great stress that is here laid on the possession of the scalp. A war party of Indians care comparatively little for the loss of one of their number, provided that they conceal his body so that the enemy shall not take his scalp. Here we have an instance of a man pursued by numbers of infuriated and relentless foes deliberately going back to the spot where he thought his slain enemies might be buried, and a second time risking his life in order to secure the trophies of victory. He knew that his intention would be foreseen, and yet the value set upon the scalp was so incalculable that even the risk of undergoing the torture was as nothing in comparison.

On more than one occasion, a warrior who has been struck down, and felt himself unable to rise, has saved his life by feigning death, and permitting his victorious foe to tear off his scalp without giving the least sign of suffering. He must lose his scalp at any rate, and he might possibly contrive to save his life.

Several of the tribes are remarkable for the use which they make of the horse in war, and their marvellous skill in riding. The most celebrated tribe in this respect are the Camanchees, the greater part of whose life is spent on horseback. As is often the case with those who spend much of their time on horseback, the Camanchees are but poor walkers, and have a slouching and awkward gait. No sooner, however, is a Camanchee on the back of a horse, than his whole demeanor alters, and he and the animal which he bestrides seem one and the same being, actuated with the same spirit. “A Camanchee on his feet,” writes Mr. Catlin, “is out of his element, and comparatively almost as awkward as a monkey on the ground without a limb or branch to cling to. But the moment he lays his hand upon his horse, his face becomes handsome, and he gracefully flies away like a different being.”

There is one feat in which all the Camanchee warriors are trained from their infancy. As the man is dashing along at full gallop, he will suddenly drop over the side of his horse, leaving no part of him visible except the sole of one foot, which is hitched over the horse’s back as a purchase by which he can pull himself to an upright position. In this attitude he can ride for any distance, and moreover can use with deadly effect either his bow or his fourteen-foot lance.

One of their favorite modes of attack is to gallop toward the enemy at full speed, and then, just before they come within range, they drop upon the opposite side of their horses, dash past the foe, and pour upon him a shower of arrows directed under their horses’ necks, and sometimes even thrown under their bellies. All the time it is nearly useless for the enemy to return the shots, as the whole body of the Camanchee is hidden behind the horse, and there is nothing to aim at save the foot just projecting over the animal’s back.

To enable them to perform this curious manœuvre, (illustrated on the 1291st page) the Camanchees plait a short and strong halter of horse hair. This halter is passed under the horse’s neck, and the ends are firmly plaited into the mane, just above the withers, so as to leave a loop hanging under the animal’s neck. Into this loop the warrior drops with accurate precision, sustaining the weight of his body on the upper part of the bent arm, and allowing the spear to fall into the bend of the elbow. Thus both his arms are at liberty to draw the bow or wield the spear; and as in such cases he always grasps a dozen arrows in his left hand, together with the bow, he can discharge them without having recourse to his quiver.

Sometimes the Camanchees try to steal upon their enemies by leaving their lances behind them, slinging themselves along the sides of their steeds, and approaching carelessly, as though they were nothing but a troop of wild horses without riders. A very quick eye is needed to detect this guise, which is generally betrayed by the fact that the horses always keep the same side toward the spectator, which would very seldom be the case were they wild and unrestrained in their movements.

Every Camanchee has one favorite horse, which he never mounts except for war or the chase, using an inferior animal on ordinary occasions. Swiftness is the chief quality for which the charger is selected, and for no price would the owner part with his steed. Like all uncivilized people, he treats his horse with a strange mixture of cruelty and kindness. While engaged in the chase, for example, he spurs and whips the animal most ruthlessly; but as soon as he returns, he carefully hands over his valued animal to his women, who are waiting to receive it, and who treat it as if it were a cherished member of the family.

It need scarcely be added that the Camanchees are most accomplished horse stealers, and that they seize every opportunity of robbing other tribes of their animals. When a band of Camanchees sets out on a horse stealing expedition, the warriors who compose it are bound in honor not to return until they have achieved their object. Sometimes they are absent for more than two years before they can succeed in surprising the settlement which contains the horses on which they have set their hearts, and they will lie in ambush for months, awaiting a favorable opportunity.

The value set upon horses by the equestrian tribes cannot be better illustrated than by the singular custom of “smoking horses,” which prevails in some parts of the country. The reader will find this illustrated on the following page.

When one of these tribes determine on making war, and find on mustering their forces that they have not sufficient horses, they send a messenger to a friendly tribe to say that on a certain day they will come to “smoke” a certain number of horses, and expect the animals to be ready for them. This is a challenge which is never refused, involving as it does the honor of the tribe.

On the appointed day, the young warriors who have no horses go to the friendly village, stripped and painted as if for war, and seat themselves in a circle, all facing inward. They light their pipes and smoke in silence, the people of the village forming a large circle around them, leaving a wide space between themselves and their visitors.

Presently in the distance there appears an equal number of young warriors on horseback, dashing along at full gallop, and in “Indian file,” according to their custom. They gallop round the ring, and the foremost rider, selecting one of the seated young men, stoops from his saddle as he passes, and delivers a terrible blow at his naked shoulders with his cruel whip. Each of his followers does the same, and they gallop round and round the smokers, at each circuit repeating the blow until the shoulders of the men are covered with blood. It is incumbent upon the sufferers to smoke on in perfect calmness, and not to give the slightest intimation that they are aware of the blows which are inflicted on them. When the requisite number of circuits have been made, the leader springs off his horse, and places the bridle and whip in the hands of the young man whom he has selected, saying at the same time, “You are a beggar; I present you with a horse: but you will always carry my mark on your back.” The rest follow his example.

Every one is pleased with this remarkable custom. The young men are pleased because they get a horse apiece; and as to the flogging, in the first place they really care very little for pain, and in the next place they have enjoyed an opportunity of showing publicly their capability of endurance.

Those who give the horses are pleased because they have been able to show their liberality, a trait which is held in great estimation by these people, and they have also the peculiar satisfaction of flogging a warrior with impunity. Both tribes are also pleased, the one because they have gained the horses without which they could not have made up their forces, and the other because they have shown themselves possessed of superior wealth.