The Ghost-dance religion and the Sioux outbreak of 1890

by James Mooney

APPENDIX—THE INDIAN STORY OF WOUNDED KNEE

[From the Report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs for 1891, volume 1, pages 179–181. Extracts from verbatim stenographic report of council held by delegations of Sioux with Commissioner of Indian Affairs, at Washington, February 11, 1891.]

Turning Hawk, Pine Ridge (Mr Cook, interpreter). Mr Commissioner, my purpose to-day is to tell you what I know of the condition of affairs at the agency where I live. A certain falsehood came to our agency from the west which had the effect of a fire upon the Indians, and when this certain fire came upon our people those who had farsightedness and could see into the matter made up their minds to stand up against it and fight it. The reason we took this hostile attitude to this fire was because we believed that you yourself would not be in favor of this particular mischief-making thing; but just as we expected, the people in authority did not like this thing and we were quietly told that we must give up or have nothing to do with this certain movement. Though this is the advice from our good friends in the east, there were, of course, many silly young men who were longing to become identified with the movement, although they knew that there was nothing absolutely bad, nor did they know there was anything absolutely good, in connection with the movement.

In the course of time we heard that the soldiers were moving toward the scene of trouble. After awhile some of the soldiers finally reached our place and we heard that a number of them also reached our friends at Rosebud. Of course, when a large body of soldiers is moving toward a certain direction they inspire a more or less amount of awe, and it is natural that the women and children who see this large moving mass are made afraid of it and be put in a condition to make them run away. At first we thought that Pine Ridge and Rosebud were the only two agencies where soldiers were sent, but finally we heard that the other agencies fared likewise. We heard and saw that about half our friends at Rosebud agency, from fear at seeing the soldiers, began the move of running away from their agency toward ours (Pine Ridge), and when they had gotten inside of our reservation they there learned that right ahead of them at our agency was another large crowd of soldiers, and while the soldiers were there, there was constantly a great deal of false rumor flying back and forth. The special rumor I have in mind is the threat that the soldiers had come there to disarm the Indians entirely and to take away all their horses from them. That was the oft-repeated story.

So constantly repeated was this story that our friends from Rosebud, instead of going to Pine Ridge, the place of their destination, veered off and went to some other direction toward the “Bad Lands.” We did not know definitely how many, but understood there were 300 lodges of them, about 1,700 people. Eagle Pipe, Turning Bear, High Hawk, Short Bull, Lance, No Flesh, Pine Bird, Crow Dog, Two Strike, and White Horse were the leaders.

Well, the people after veering off in this way, many of them who believe in peace and order at our agency, were very anxious that some influence should be brought upon these people. In addition to our love of peace we remembered that many of these people were related to us by blood. So we sent out peace commissioners to the people who were thus running away from their agency.

I understood at the time that they were simply going away from fear because of so many soldiers. So constant was the word of these good men from Pine Ridge agency that finally they succeeded in getting away half of the party from Rosebud, from the place where they took refuge, and finally were brought to the agency at Pine Ridge. Young-Man-Afraid-of-his-Horses, Little Wound, Fast Thunder, Louis Shangreau, John Grass, Jack Red Cloud, and myself were some of these peace-makers.

The remnant of the party from Rosebud not taken to the agency finally reached the wilds of the Bad Lands. Seeing that we had succeeded so well, once more we sent to the same party in the Bad Lands and succeeded in bringing these very Indians out of the depths of the Bad Lands and were being brought toward the agency. When we were about a day’s journey from our agency we heard that a certain party of Indians (Big Foot’s band) from the Cheyenne River agency was coming toward Pine Ridge in flight.

Captain Sword. Those who actually went off of the Cheyenne River agency probably number 303, and there were a few from the Standing Rook reserve with them, but as to their number I do not know. There were a number of Ogalallas, old men and several school boys, coming back with that very same party, and one of the very seriously wounded boys was a member of the Ogalalla boarding school at Pine Ridge agency. He was not on the warpath, but was simply returning home to his agency and to his school after a summer visit to relatives on the Cheyenne river.

Turning Hawk. When we heard that these people were coming toward our agency we also heard this. These people were coming toward Pine Ridge agency, and when they were almost on the agency they were met by the soldiers and surrounded and finally taken to the Wounded Knee creek, and there at a given time their guns were demanded. When they had delivered them up, the men were separated from their families, from their tipis, and taken to a certain spot. When the guns were thus taken and the men thus separated, there was a crazy man, a young man of very bad influence and in fact a nobody, among that bunch of Indians fired his gun, and of course the firing of a gun must have been the breaking of a military rule of some sort, because immediately the soldiers returned fire and indiscriminate killing followed.

Spotted Horse. This man shot an officer in the army; the first shot killed this officer. I was a voluntary scout at that encounter and I saw exactly what was done, and that was what I noticed; that the first shot killed an officer. As soon as this shot was fired the Indians immediately began drawing their knives, and they were exhorted from all sides to desist, but this was not obeyed. Consequently the firing began immediately on the part of the soldiers.

Turning Hawk. All the men who were in a bunch were killed right there, and those who escaped that first fire got into the ravine, and as they went along up the ravine for a long distance they were pursued on both sides by the soldiers and shot down, as the dead bodies showed afterwards. The women were standing off at a different place from where the men were stationed, and when the firing began, those of the men who escaped the first onslaught went in one direction up the ravine, and then the women, who were bunched together at another place, went entirely in a different direction through an open field, and the women fared the same fate as the men who went up the deep ravine.

American Horse. The men were separated, as has already been said, from the women, and they were surrounded by the soldiers. Then came next the village of the Indians and that was entirely surrounded by the soldiers also. When the firing began, of course the people who were standing immediately around the young man who fired the first shot were killed right together, and then they turned their guns, Hotchkiss guns, etc., upon the women who were in the lodges standing there under a flag of truce, and of course as soon as they were fired upon they fled, the men fleeing in one direction and the women running in two different directions. So that there were three general directions in which they took flight.

There was a women with an infant in her arms who was killed as she almost touched the flag of truce, and the women and children of course were strewn all along the circular village until they were dispatched. Right near the flag of truce a mother was shot down with her infant; the child not knowing that its mother was dead was still nursing, and that especially was a very sad sight. The women as they were fleeing with their babes were killed together, shot right through, and the women who were very heavy with child were also killed. All the Indians fled in these three directions, and after most all of them had been killed a cry was made that all those who were not killed or wounded should come forth and they would be safe. Little boys who were not wounded came out of their places of refuge, and as soon as they came in sight a number of soldiers surrounded them and butchered them there.

Of course we all feel very sad about this affair. I stood very loyal to the government all through those troublesome days, and believing so much in the government and being so loyal to it, my disappointment was very strong, and I have come to Washington with a very great blame on my heart. Of course it would have been all right if only the men were killed; we would feel almost grateful for it. But the fact of the killing of the women, and more especially the killing of the young boys and girls who are to go to make up the future strength of the Indian people, is the saddest part of the whole affair and we feel it very sorely.

I was not there at the time before the burial of the bodies, but I did go there with some of the police and the Indian doctor and a great many of the people, men from the agency, and we went through the battlefield and saw where the bodies were from the track of the blood.

Turning Hawk. I had just reached the point where I said that the women were killed. We heard, besides the killing of the men, of the onslaught also made upon the women and children, and they were treated as roughly and indiscriminately as the men and boys were.

Of course this affair brought a great deal of distress upon all the people, but especially upon the minds of those who stood loyal to the government and who did all that they were able to do in the matter of bringing about peace. They especially have suffered much distress and are very much hurt at heart. These peace-makers continued on in their good work, but there were a great many fickle young men who were ready to be moved by the change in the events there, and consequently, in spite of the great fire that was brought upon all, they were ready to assume any hostile attitude. These young men got themselves in readiness and went in the direction of the scene of battle so they might be of service there. They got there and finally exchanged shots with the soldiers. This party of young men was made up from Rosebud, Ogalalla (Pine Ridge), and members of any other agencies that happened to be there at the time. While this was going on in the neighborhood of Wounded Knee—the Indians and soldiers exchanging shots—the agency, our home, was also fired into by the Indians. Matters went on in this strain until the evening came on, and then the Indians went off down by White Clay creek. When the agency was fired upon by the Indians from the hillside, of course the shots were returned by the Indian police who were guarding the agency buildings.

Although fighting seemed to have been in the air, yet those who believed in peace were still constant at their work. Young-Man-Afraid-of-his-Horses, who had been on a visit to some other agency in the north or northwest, returned, and immediately went out to the people living about White Clay creek, on the border of the Bad Lands, and brought his people out. He succeeded in obtaining the consent of the people to come out of their place of refuge and return to the agency. Thus the remaining portion of the Indians who started from Rosebud were brought back into the agency. Mr Commissioner, during the days of the great whirlwind out there, those good men tried to hold up a counteracting power, and that was “Peace.” We have now come to realize that peace has prevailed and won the day. While we were engaged in bringing about peace our property was left behind, of course, and most of us have lost everything, even down to the matter of guns with which to kill ducks, rabbits, etc, shotguns, and guns of that order. When Young-Man-Afraid brought the people in and their guns were asked for, both men who were called hostile and men who stood loyal to the government delivered up their guns.

Chapter XIV
CLOSE OF THE OUTBREAK—THE GHOST DANCE IN THE SOUTH

In the meantime overtures of peace had been made by General Miles to the hostiles, most of whose leaders he knew personally, having received their surrender on the Yellowstone ten years before, at the close of the Custer war. On the urgent representations of himself and others Congress had also appropriated the necessary funds for carrying out the terms of the late treaty, by the disregard of which most of the trouble had been caused, so that the commander was now able to assure the Indians that their rights and necessities would receive attention. They were urged to come in and surrender, with a guaranty that the general himself would represent their case with the government. At the same time they were informed that retreat was cut off and that further resistance would be unavailing. As an additional step toward regaining their confidence, the civilian agents were removed from the several disturbed agencies, which were then put in charge of military officers well known and respected by the Indians. Cheyenne River agency was assigned to Captain J. H. Hurst, and Rosebud agency to Captain J. M. Lee, while Royer, at Pine Ridge, was superseded on January 8 by Captain. F. E. Pierce. The last-named officer was afterward relieved by Captain Charles G. Penney, who is now in charge. ([War], 22; [Comr.], 38; [G. D.], 45.)

The friendly overtures made by General Miles, with evidences that the government desired to remedy their grievances, and that longer resistance was hopeless, had their effect on the hostiles. Little Wound, Young-man-afraid-of-his-horses (more properly, “Young-man-of-whose-horses-they-are-afraid”), Big Road, and other friendly chiefs, also used their persuasions with such good effect that by January 12 the whole body of nearly 4,000 Indians had moved in to within sight of the agency and expressed their desire for peace. The troops closed in around them, and on the 16th of January, 1891, the hostiles surrendered, and the outbreak was at an end. They complied with every order and direction given by the commander, and gave up nearly 200 rifles, which, with other arms already surrendered, made a total of between 600 and 700 guns, more than had ever before been surrendered by the Sioux at one time. As a further guaranty of good faith, the commander demanded the surrender of Kicking Bear and Short Bull, the principal leaders, with about twenty other prominent warriors, as hostages. The demand was readily complied with, and the men designated came forward voluntarily and gave themselves up as sureties for the good conduct of their people. They were sent to Fort Sheridan, Illinois, near Chicago, where they were kept until there was no further apprehension, and were then returned to their homes. ([War], 23; [Colby], 8.) After the surrender the late hostiles pitched their camp, numbering in all 742 tipis, in the bottom along White Clay creek, just west of the agency, where General Miles had supplies of beef, coffee, and sugar issued to them from the commissary department, and that night they enjoyed the first full meal they had known in several weeks.

Thus ended the so-called Sioux outbreak of 1890–91. It might be better designated, however, as a Sioux panic and stampede, for, to quote the expressive letter of McGillycuddy, writing under date of January 15, 1891, “Up to date there has been neither a Sioux outbreak or war. No citizen in Nebraska or Dakota has been killed, molested, or can show the scratch of a pin, and no property has been destroyed off the reservation.” ([Colby], 9.) Only a single noncombatant was killed by the Indians, and that was close to the agency. The entire time occupied by the campaign, from the killing of Sitting Bull to the surrender at Pine Ridge, was only thirty-two days. The late hostiles were returned to their homes as speedily as possible. The Brulé of Rosebud, regarded as the most turbulent of the hostiles, were taken back to the agency by Captain Lee, for whom they had respect, founded on an acquaintance of several years’ standing, without escort and during the most intense cold of winter, but without any trouble or dissatisfaction whatever. The military were returned to their usual stations, and within a few weeks after the surrender affairs at the various agencies were moving again in the usual channel.

An unfortunate event occurred just before the surrender in the killing of Lieutenant E. W. Casey of the Twenty-second infantry by Plenty Horses, a young Brulé, on January 7. Lieutenant Casey was in command of a troop of Cheyenne scouts, and was stationed at the mouth of White Clay creek, charged with the special duty of watching the hostile camp, which was located 8 miles farther up the creek at No Water’s place. On the day before his death several of the hostiles had visited him and held a friendly conference. The next morning, in company with two scouts, he went out avowedly for the purpose of observing the hostile camp more closely. He rode up to within a short distance of the camp, meeting and talking with several of the Indians on the way, and had stopped to talk with a half-blood relative of Red Cloud, when Plenty Horses, a short distance away, deliberately shot him through the head, and he fell from his horse dead. His body was not disturbed by the Indians, but was brought in by some of the Cheyenne scouts soon after. Plenty Horses was arraigned before a United States court, but was acquitted on the ground that as the Sioux were then at war and the officer was practically a spy upon the Indian camp, the act was not murder in the legal sense of the word. Lieutenant Casey had been for a year in charge of the Cheyenne scouts and had taken great interest in their welfare and proficiency, and his death was greatly deplored by the Indians as the insane act of a boy overcome by the excitement of the times. ([War], 24; [Comr.], 39; [Colby], 10; [G. D.], 46.)

On January 11 an unprovoked murder was committed on a small party of peaceable Indians on Belle Fourche, or North fork of Cheyenne river, by which the Indians who had come in to surrender were once more thrown into such alarm that for a time it seemed as if serious trouble might result. A party of Ogalala from Pine Ridge, consisting of Few Tails, a kindly, peaceable old man, with his wife, an old woman, and One Feather, with his wife and two children—one a girl about 13 years of age and the other an infant—had been hunting in the Black Hills under a pass from the agency. They had had a successful hunt, and were returning with their two wagons well loaded with meat, when they camped for the night at the mouth of Alkali creek. During the evening they were visited by some soldiers stopping at a ranch a few miles distant, who examined their pass and pronounced it all right. In the morning, after breakfast, the Indians started on again toward the agency, but had gone only a few hundred yards when they were fired upon by a party of white men concealed near the road. The leaders of the whites were three brothers named Culbertson, one of whom had but recently returned from the penitentiary. One of the murderers had visited the Indians in their camp the night before, and even that very morning. At the first fire Few Tails was killed, together with both ponies attached to the wagon. His wife jumped out and received two bullets, which brought her to the ground. The murderers rode past her, however, to get at the other Indian, who was coming up behind in the other wagon with his wife and two children. As soon as he saw his companion killed, One Feather turned his wagon in the other direction, and, telling his wife, who had also been shot, to drive on as fast as she could to save the children, he jumped upon one of the spare ponies and held off the murderers until his family had had time to make some distance. He then turned and joined his family and drove on for some 8 or 10 miles until the pursuers came up again, when he again turned and fought them off, while his wife went ahead with the wagon and the children. The wounded woman bravely drove on, while the two little children lay down in the wagon with their heads covered up in the blankets. As they drove they passed near a house, from which several other shots were fired at the flying mother, when her husband again rode up and kept off the whole party until the wagon could get ahead. Finally, as the ponies were tired out, this heroic man abandoned the wagon and put the two children on one of the spare ponies and his wounded wife and himself upon another and continued to retreat until the whites gave up the pursuit. He finally reached the agency with the wife and children.

The wife of Few Tails, after falling wounded by two bullets beside the wagon in which was her dead husband, lay helpless and probably unconscious upon the ground through all the long winter night until morning, when she revived, and finding one of the horses still alive, mounted it and managed by night to reach a settler’s house about 15 miles away. Instead of meeting help and sympathy, however, she was driven off by the two men there with loaded rifles, and leaving her horse in her fright, she hurried away as well as she could with a bullet in her leg and another in her breast, passing by the trail of One Feather’s wagon with the tracks of his pursuers fresh behind it, until she came near a trader’s store about 20 miles farther south. Afraid to go near it on account of her last experience, the poor woman circled around it, and continued, wounded, cold, and starving as she was, to travel by night and hide by day until she reached the Bad Lands. The rest may be told in her own words:

After that I traveled every night, resting daytime, until I got here at the beef corral. Then I was very tired, and was near the military camp, and early in the morning a soldier came out and he shouted something back, and in a few minutes fifty men were there, and they got a blanket and took me to a tent. I had no blanket and my feet were swelled, and I was about ready to die. After I got to the tent a doctor came in—a soldier doctor, because he had straps on his shoulders—and washed me and treated me well.

A few of the soldiers camped near the scene of the attack had joined in the pursuit at the beginning, on the representations of some of the murderers, but abandoned it as soon as they found their mistake. According to all the testimony, the killing was a wanton, unprovoked, and deliberate murder, yet the criminals were acquitted in the local courts. The apathy displayed by the authorities of Meade county, South Dakota, in which the murder was committed, called forth some vigorous protests. Colonel Shafter, in his statement of the case, concludes, referring to the recent killing of Lieutenant Casey: “So long as Indians are being arrested and held for killing armed men under conditions of war, it seems to me that the white murderers of a part of a band of peaceful Indians should not be permitted to escape punishment.” The Indians took the same view of the case, and when General Miles demanded of Young-man-afraid-of-his-horses the surrender of the slayers of Casey and the herder Miller, the old chief indignantly replied: “No; I will not surrender them, but if you will bring the white men who killed Few Tails, I will bring the Indians who killed the white soldier and the herder; and right out here in front of your tipi I will have my young men shoot the Indians and you have your soldiers shoot the white men, and then we will be done with the whole business.”

In regard to the heroic conduct of One Feather, the officer then in charge of the agency says: “The determination and genuine courage, as well as the generalship he manifested in keeping at a distance the six men who were pursuing him, and the devotion he showed toward his family, risking his life against great odds, designate him as entitled to a place on the list of heroes.” ([War], 25; [Comr.], 40; [G. D.], 47.)

On the recommendation of General Miles, a large delegation of the principal leaders of both friendly and hostile parties among the Sioux was allowed to visit Washington in February, 1891, to present their grievances and suggest remedies for dissatisfaction in the future. Among the principal speakers were: From Pine Ridge, American Horse, Captain George Sword, Big Road, and He Dog; from Rosebud, White Bird and Turning Hawk; from Cheyenne River, Little No Heart and Straight Head; from Standing Rock, John Grass and Mad Bear. The interpreters were Reverend C. S. Cook, David Zephier, Louis Primeau, Louis Richard, Clarence Three Stars, and Louis Shangreau. Their visit was eminently satisfactory and resulted in the inauguration of a more efficient administration of Sioux affairs for the future. Steps were taken to reimburse those whose ponies had been confiscated at the time of the Custer war in 1876, and additional appropriations were made for rations, so that before the end of the year the Indians were receiving half as much more as before the outbreak. ([War], 26.) On returning to their homes the Indians of the various Sioux agencies went to work in good faith putting in their crops and caring for their stock, and in a short time all further apprehension was at an end.

The discussion of Indian affairs in connection with the outbreak led to the passage by Congress of a bill which enacted that all future vacancies in the office of Indian agent should be filled by military officers selected by the Indian office and detailed for the purpose from the army. At the same time a plan was originated to enlist Indians as a component part of the regular army. Small parties from various tribes had long been attached to various posts and commands in an irregular capacity as scouts. These bodies of scouts were now reduced in number or disbanded altogether, and in their stead were organized Indian troops or companies to be regularly attached to the different cavalry or infantry regiments. In the spring of 1891 officers were sent out to various western reservations, and succeeded in thus recruiting a number of regular troops from among the most warlike of the tribes, a considerable part of these coming from the late hostile Sioux.

Although the campaign lasted only about a month the destruction of life was great, for an Indian war, and the money loss to the government and to individuals was something enormous. Three officers and 28 privates were killed or mortally wounded during the campaign, and 4 officers and 38 privates were less seriously wounded, several of these dying later on. ([War], 27.) The Indian loss can not be stated exactly. In the arrest of Sitting Bull there were killed or mortally wounded 8 of Sitting Bull’s party and 6 police, a total of 14. Those killed in the Wounded Knee fight, or who afterward died of wounds or exposure, numbered, according to the best estimates, at least 250. Those afterward killed in the various small skirmishes, including the Few Tails affair, may have numbered 20 or 30. In all, the campaign cost the lives of 49 whites and others on the government side and about 300 or more Indians.

The direct or incidental expenses of the campaign were as follows: Expenses of the Department of Justice for defending Plenty Horses and prosecuting the murderers of Few Tails, unknown; appropriation by Congress to reimburse Nebraska national guard for expense of service during the campaign, $43,000; paid out under act of Congress to reimburse friendly Indians and other legal residents on the reservations for property destroyed by hostiles, $97,646.85 ([Comr.], 41); extra expense of Commissary department of the army, $37,764.69; extra expense of the Medical department of the army, $1,164, besides extra supplies purchased by individuals; extra expenses of Ordnance department of the army, for ammunition, not accounted for; total extra expense of Quartermaster’s department of the army, $915,078.81, including $120,634.17 for transportation of troops over bonded railroads. ([A. G. O.], 8.) The total expense, public or private, was probably but little short of $1,200,000, or nearly $40,000 per day, a significant commentary on the bad policy of breaking faith with Indians.

According to the report of the agency farmer sent out after the trouble to learn the extent of property of the friendly Indians destroyed by the hostiles on Pine Ridge agency, there were burned 53 Indian dwellings, 1 church, 2 schoolhouses, and a bridge, all on White Clay creek, while nearly every remaining house along the creek had the windows broken out. A great deal of farming machinery and nearly all of the hay were burned, while stoves were broken to pieces and stock killed. A few of the friendly Indians had been so overcome by the excitement that they had burned their own houses and run their machinery down high hills into the river, where it was found frozen in the ice several months later. ([G. D.], 48.)

In view of the fact that only one noncombatant was killed and no depredations were committed off the reservation, the panic among the frontier settlers of both Dakotas, Nebraska, and Iowa was something ludicrous. The inhabitants worked themselves into such a high panic that ranches and even whole villages were temporarily abandoned and the people flocked into the railroad cities with vivid stories of murder, scalping, and desolation that had no foundation whatever in fact. A reliable authority who was on the ground shortly after the scare had subsided gives this characteristic instance among others:

In another city, a place of 3,000 inhabitants, 75 miles from any Indians and 150 miles from any hostiles, word came about 2 o’clock Sunday morning for the militia to be in readiness. The company promptly assembled, were instructed and drilled. In an evening church service one of the pastors broke out in prayer: “O Lord, prepare us for what awaits us. We have just been listening to the sweet sounds of praise, but ere the morning sun we may hear the war whoop of the red man.” The effect on children and nervous persons may be imagined. The legislature was in session and the impression upon that body was such as to lead it to make an appropriation for the benefit of the state militia at the expense of one to the state agricultural fair. ([Comr.], 42.)

The crisis produced the usual crop of patriots, all ready to serve their country—usually for a consideration. Among these was a lady of Utica, New York, claiming to be of the renowned Iroquois blood, and styling herself the “Doctor Princess Viroqua,” who, with her sister “Wynima,” wrote to the Indian Office for a commission to go out to try the effect of moral suasion on the belligerent Sioux, representing that by virtue of her descent from a long line of aboriginal princes she would be welcomed with enthusiasm and accomplish her mission of peace. ([G. D.], 49.) As a matter of fact, neither of the names Viroqua or Wynima could be pronounced by a genuine Iroquois knowing only his own tongue, and the second one, Wynima, is borrowed from Meacham’s sensational history of the Modoc war in California.

The proprietor of a “wild west” show in New York, signing himself Texas Ben, wrote also volunteering his services and submitting as credentials his museum letter-head, stating that he had served with Quantrell, and had the written indorsement of Cole Younger. An old veteran of the Iowa soldiers’ home wrote to Secretary Noble, with a redundance of capitals and much bad spelling, offering his help against the hostiles, saying that he had been “RAZeD” among them and could “ToLK The TUN” and was ready to “Do eneThin FoR mY CuntRY.” ([G. D.], 50.)

A band of patriots in Minnesota, whose early education appears to have been somewhat neglected, wrote to the Secretary of the Interior offering to organize a company of 50 men to put down the outbreak, provided the government would look after a few items which they enumerated: “The government to Furnish us with Two good Horses Each a good Winchester Rifle, Two good Cotes Revolvers and give us $300.00 Bounty and say a Salary of Fifty Per Month, Each and our own judgment and we will settel this Indian question For Ever, and Rations and Ammunition. We Should Have in addition to this say Five dollars a Head.” ([G. D.], 51.)

A man named Albert Hopkins appeared at Pine Ridge in December, 1890, wearing a blanket and claiming to be the Indian messiah, and announced his intention of going alone into the Bad Lands to the Indians, who were expecting his arrival, with the “Pansy Banner of Peace.” His claims were ridiculed by Red Cloud and others, and he was promptly arrested and put off the reservation. However, he was not dead, but only sleeping, and on March, 1893, having come to Washington, he addressed an urgent letter to Secretary Noble requesting official authority to visit the Sioux reservations and to preach to the Indians, stating that “with the help of the Pansy and its motto and manifest teaching, ‘Union, Culture, and Peace,’ and the star-pansy banner, of which I inclose an illustration, I hope to establish the permanent peace of the border.” He signs himself “Albert C. Hopkins, Pres. Pro. tem. The Pansy Society of America.”

The letter was referred to the Indian Office, which refused permission. This brought a reply from Hopkins, who this time signs himself “The Indian Messiah,” in which he states that as the Indians were expecting the messiah in the spring, “in accordance with the prophecy of Sitting Bull,” it was necessary that he should go to them at once, so that they might “accept the teaching of the pansy and its motto, which now they only partially or very doubtfully accept.”

Receiving no answer, he wrote again about the end of March, both to the Secretary and to the Indian Commissioner, stating that messiahs, being human, were subject to human limitations, of which fact the Indians were well aware, but warning these officials that if these limitations were set by the government it would be held responsible for his nonappearance to the Indians, as he had promised, “before the native pansies blossom on the prairies.” He ends by stating that he would leave on Easter Sunday for the Sioux country, but as nothing was heard of him later, it is presumed that he succumbed to the limitations. ([G. D.], 52.)

The first direct knowledge of the messiah and the Ghost dance came to the northern Arapaho in Wyoming, through Nakash, “Sage,” who, with several Shoshoni, visited the messiah in the early spring of 1889, and on his return brought back to his people the first songs of the dance, these being probably some of the original Paiute songs of the messiah himself. The Ghost dance was at once inaugurated among the Shoshoni and northern Arapaho. In the summer of the same year the first rumors of the new redeemer reached the southern Arapaho and Cheyenne in Oklahoma, through the medium of letters written by returned pupils of eastern government schools.

Fresh reports of wonderful things beyond the mountains were constantly coming to the northern prairie tribes, and the excitement grew until the close of the year 1889, when a large delegation, including Sioux, northern Cheyenne, and northern Arapaho, crossed the mountains to the Paiute country to see and talk with the messiah. Among the Sioux delegates were Short Bull, Fire Thunder, and Kicking Bear, as already stated. Among the Cheyenne were Porcupine and several others, including one woman. The Arapaho representatives were Sitting Bull (Hänä′chä-thi′ăk) and Friday. The delegates from the different tribes met at Wind River reservation, in Wyoming, which they left about Christmas, and after stopping a short time among the Bannock and Shoshoni at Fort Hall, went on to Walker lake, in Nevada. They were gone some time and returned to Wyoming in March of 1890, the Sioux and Cheyenne continuing on to their homes farther east. According to the statement of Nakash they had a five days’ conference with the messiah, who at one time went into a trance, but his visitors did not.

Before their return the southern Arapaho, in Oklahoma, had sent up Wa′tän-ga′a, “Black Coyote,” an officer of the Indian police, and Washee, a scout at Fort Reno, to their relatives in Wyoming to learn definitely as to the truth or falsity of the rumors. Washee went on to Fort Hall, where his faith failed him, and he came back with the report that the messiah was only a half-blood. This was not correct, but Washee himself afterward acknowledged that he had based his report on hearsay. Black Coyote remained until the other delegates returned from the Paiute country with the announcement that all that had been said of the messiah and the advent of a new earth was true. He listened eagerly to all they had to tell, took part with the rest in the dance, learned the songs, and returned in April, 1890, and inaugurated the first Ghost dance in the south among the Arapaho.

PL. CIII

JULIUS BIEN & CO. N.Y.

ARAPAHO GHOST SHIRT SHOWING COLORING

The Cheyenne, being skeptical by nature, were unwilling to trust entirely to the report of Black Coyote and so sent up two delegates of their own, Little Chief and Bark, to investigate the story in the north. Somewhat later White Shield, another Cheyenne, went up alone on the same errand. Their report being favorable, the Cheyenne also took up the Ghost dance in the summer of 1890. They never went into it with the same fervor, however, and although they had their separate dance with songs in their own language, they more commonly danced together with the Arapaho and sang with them the Arapaho songs. For several years the old Indian dances had been nearly obsolete with these tribes, but as the new religion meant a revival of the Indian idea they soon became common again, with the exception of the war dance and others of that kind which were strictly prohibited by the messiah.

From this time the Ghost dance grew in fervor and frequency among the Arapaho and Cheyenne. In almost every camp the dance would be held two or three times a week, beginning about sunset and often continuing until daylight. The excitement reached fever heat in September, 1890, when Sitting Bull came down from the northern Arapaho to instruct the southern tribes in the doctrine and ceremony.

At a great Ghost dance held on South Canadian river, about 2 miles below the agency at Darlington, Oklahoma, it was estimated that 3,000 Indians were present, including nearly all of the Arapaho and Cheyenne, with a number of Caddo, Wichita, Kiowa, and others. The first trances of the Ghost dance among the southern tribes occurred at this time through the medium of Sitting Bull. One informant states that a leader named Howling Bull had produced trances at a dance on the Washita some time before, but the statement lacks confirmation.

As Sitting Bull was the great apostle of the Ghost dance among the southern tribes, being regarded almost in the same light as the messiah himself, he merits special notice. He is now about 42 years of age and at the beginning of his apostleship in 1890 was but 36. He is a full-blood Arapaho, although rather light in complexion and color of eyes, and speaks only his native language, but converses with ease in the universal sign language of the plains. It was chiefly by means of this sign language that he instructed his disciples among the Caddo, Wichita, and Kiowa. He is about 5 feet 8 inches tall, dignified but plain in his bearing, and with a particularly winning smile. His power over those with whom he comes in contact is evident from the report of Lieutenant (now Captain) Scott, who had been ordered by the War Department to investigate the Ghost dance, and who for weeks had been denouncing him as a humbug, but who, on finally meeting him for the first time, declares that the opinion formed before seeing him began to change in his favor almost immediately. ([G. D.], 53.) In conversation with the author Sitting Bull stated that he was originally a southern Arapaho, but went up to live with the northern branch of the tribe, in Wyoming, about 1876. When a boy in the south he was known as Bítäye, “Captor,” but on reaching manhood his name was changed, in conformity with a common Indian custom, to Hänä′chä-thi′ăk, “Sitting Bull.” On returning to the south, after having visited the messiah, he found his brother known under the same name, and to avoid confusion the brother then adopted the name of Scabby Bull, by which he is now known. It should be mentioned that an Indian “brother” may be only a cousin, as no distinction is made in the Indian system. On removing to the south he fixed his abode near Cantonment, Oklahoma, where he now resides.

Fig. 83—Sitting Bull the Arapaho apostle.

With regard to the reverence in which he was held by his disciples at this time, and of his own sincerity, Captain Scott says:

It was very difficult to get an opportunity to talk with him quietly on account of the persistent manner in which he was followed about. All sorts of people wanted to touch him, men and women would come in, rub their hands on him, and cry, which demonstration he received with a patient fortitude that was rather ludicrous at times. While he by no means told us everything he knew, it was easy to believe that he was not the rank impostor that I had before considered him. He makes no demands for presents while at these camps. This trip entailed a ride of 200 miles in the winter season, at the request of the Wichitas, for which I understand they paid him $50 before starting, but everything that was given him while at this camp was a voluntary gift, prompted entirely by the good wishes of the giver. He took but little property away when he left, and I saw but one horse that I thought he had not brought down with him.

PL. CIV

ARAPAHO GHOST SHIRT—REVERSE

Upon being asked concerning his religion, he said that all I had heard must not be attributed to him, as some of it was false; that he does not believe that he saw the veritable “Jesus” alive in the north, but he did see a man there whom “Jesus” had helped or inspired. This person told him that if he persevered in the dance it would cause sickness and death to disappear. He avoided some of the questions about the coming of the buffalo, etc., and under the circumstances it was not possible to draw him out further, and the subject of religion was then dropped, with the intention of taking it up at a more favorable time, but this time never came. A great many of the doings seen at these dances are the afterthoughts of all kinds of people. I have seen some of them arise and have watched their growth. These are not the teachings of Sitting Bull, although he refrains from interfering with them through policy. He took no part in the humbuggery going on, but danced and sang like the humblest individual there. These things, taken in connection with Äpiatañ’s letter, would make it seem that Sitting Bull has been a dupe himself partly, and there is a possibility that he is largely sincere in his teachings. There is this to be said in his favor, that he has given these people a better religion than they ever had before, taught them precepts which if faithfully carried out will bring them into better accord with their white neighbors, and has prepared the way for their final Christianization. For this he is entitled to no little credit. ([G. D.], 54.)

He made no claim to be a regular medicine-man, and so far as known never went into a trance himself. Since the failure of his predictions, especially with regard to the recovery of the ceded reservation, he has fallen from his high estate. Truth compels us also to state that, in spite of his apostolic character, he is about as uncertain in his movements as the average Indian.

After Sitting Bull, the principal leader of the Ghost dance among the southern Arapaho is Wa′tän-ga′a or Black Coyote, from whom the town of Watonga, in Canadian county, derives its name. Black Coyote is a man of considerable importance both in his tribe and in his own estimation, and aspires to be a leader in anything that concerns his people. With a natural predisposition to religions things, it is the dream of his life to be a great priest and medicine-man. At the same time he keeps a sharp lookout for his temporal affairs, and has managed to accumulate considerable property in wagons and livestock, including three wives. Although still a young man, being but little more than 40 years of age, he has had his share of the world’s honors, being not only a leader in the Ghost dance and other Indian ceremonies, tribal delegate to Washington, and captain of the Indian police, but also, in his new character of an American citizen, deputy sheriff of Canadian county. He is a good-natured fellow, and vain of his possessions and titles, but at the same time thoroughly loyal and reliable in the discharge of his duties, and always ready to execute his orders at whatever personal risk. His priestly ambition led him to make the journey to the north, in which he brought back the first songs of the Ghost dance, and thus became a leader, and a year later he headed a delegation from Oklahoma to the messiah of Walker lake. He has repeatedly asked me to get for him a permanent license from the government to enable him to visit the various reservations at will as a general evangel of Indian medicine and ceremony. Black Coyote in full uniform, with official badge, a Harrison medal, and an immense police overcoat, which he procured in Washington, and riding with his three wives in his own double-seated coach, is a spectacle magnificent and impressive. Black Coyote in breechcloth, paint, and feathers, leading the Ghost dance, or sitting flat on the ground and beating the earth with his hand in excess of religious fervor, is equally impressive. It was this combination of vanity of leadership and sense of duty as a government officer that made him my first and most willing informant on the Ghost dance, and enabled me through him to do so much with the Arapaho.

In his portrait ([plate cv]) a number of scars will be noticed on his chest and arms. The full number of these scars is seventy, arranged in various patterns of lines, circles, crosses, etc., with a long figure of the sacred pipe on one arm. According to his own statement they were made in obedience to a dream as a sacrifice to save the lives of his children. Several of his children had died in rapid succession, and in accordance with Indian custom he undertook a fast of four days as an expiation to the overruling spirit. During this time, while lying on his bed, he heard a voice, somewhat resembling the cry of an owl or the subdued bark of a dog. The voice told him that if he wished to save his other children he must cut out seventy pieces of skin and offer them to the sun. He at once cut out seven pieces, held them out to the sun and prayed, and then buried them. But the sun was not satisfied, and soon after he was warned in a vision that the full number of seventy must be sacrificed if he would save his children. He then did as directed, cutting out the pieces of skin in the various patterns indicated, offering each in turn to the sun with a prayer for the health of his family, and then burying them. Since then there has been no death in his family. In cutting out the larger pieces, some of which were several inches long and nearly half an inch wide, the skin was first lifted up with an awl and then sliced away with a knife. This had to be done by an assistant, and Black Coyote was particular to show me by signs, sitting very erect and bracing himself firmly, that he had not flinched during the process.

As has been stated, the first trances in the southern Ghost dance occurred at the great dance held near the Cheyenne and Arapaho agency under the auspices of Sitting Bull in September, 1890. On this occasion Cheyenne and Arapaho, Caddo, Wichita, Kiowa, and Apache to the number of perhaps 3,000 assembled, and remained together for about two weeks, dancing every night until daylight. This was the largest Ghost dance ever held in the south. After dances had been held for two or three nights Sitting Bull announced that at the next one he would perform a great wonder in the sight of all the people, after which they would be able to make songs for themselves. He said no more, but dismissed them to their tipis, wondering what this miracle could be. On the next night he appeared wearing a wide-brim hat with a single eagle feather, the same hat in which he is generally seen. Nearly all of the two tribes of Cheyenne and Arapaho were present, and probably 600 or 800 were in the dance circle at one time. Nothing unusual occurred for several hours until the dancers had gradually worked themselves up to a high state of excitement, when Sitting Bull stepped into the circle, and going up close in front of a young Arapaho woman, he began to make hypnotic passes before her face with the eagle feather. In a few seconds she became rigid and then fell to the ground unconscious. Sitting Bull then turned his attention to another and another, and the same thing happened to each in turn until nearly a hundred were stretched out on the ground at once. As usual in the trances some lay thus for a long time, and others recovered sooner, but none were disturbed, as Sitting Bull told the dancers that these were now beholding happy visions of the spirit world. When next they came together those who had been in the trance related their experiences in the other world, how they had met and talked with their departed friends and joined in their oldtime amusements. Many of them embodied their visions in songs, which were sung that night and afterward in the dance, and from that time the Ghost dance was naturalized in the south and developed rapidly along new lines. Each succeeding dance resulted in other visions and new songs, and from time to time other hypnotists arose, until almost every camp had its own.

PL. CV

Mary Irvin Wright

BLACK COYOTE

About this time a commission arrived to treat with the Cheyenne and Arapaho for the sale of their reservation. The Indians were much divided in opinion, the great majority opposing any sale whatsoever, even of their claim in the Cherokee strip, which they believed was all that the agreement was intended to cover. While the debate was in progress Left Hand, chief of the Arapaho, went to Sitting Bull and asked his opinion on the matter. Sitting Bull advised him to sell for what they could get, as they had need of the money, and in a short time the messiah would come and restore the land to them. On this advice Left Hand signed the agreement, in the face of threats from those opposed to it, and his example was followed by nearly all of his tribe. This incident shows how thoroughly Sitting Bull and the other Arapaho believed in the new doctrine. In view of the misery that has come on these tribes from the sale of their reservation, it is sad to think that they could have so deceived themselves by false hopes of divine interposition. A large party of the Cheyenne refused to have anything to do with the sale or to countenance the transaction by accepting their share of the purchase money, even after the whites had taken possession of the lands.

The troubles in the Sioux country now began to attract public attention, and there was suggestion of military interference. The newspaper liar has reached an abnormal development in Oklahoma, and dispatches from Guthrie, El Reno, and Oklahoma City were filled with vivid accounts of war dances, scalping parties, and imminent outbreaks, mingled with frantic appeals for troops. A specimen dispatch stated that a thousand Kickapoo were dancing, whereas in fact the whole tribe numbers only 325, very few of whom were in any way concerned with the Ghost dance. Indian Commissioner Morgan was at this time (November, 1890) on a tour of inspection among the western tribes of Oklahoma, and satisfied himself that all such sensational reports were false, and that there was no danger to be apprehended from the dance. ([G. D.], 55.) At the same time the War Department commissioned Lieutenant (now Captain) H. L. Scott, of the Seventh cavalry, then and now stationed at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, to investigate the meaning of the excitement and the possibility of an outbreak. Captain Scott was eminently fitted for the work by his intimate acquaintance with the Indians and his perfect knowledge of the sign language. In the course of December, 1890, and January and February, 1891, he visited the various camps of the western tribes of the territory, attended a number of dances, and talked with the leaders. His reports on the Ghost dance are most valuable, and confirmed the War Department in its previous opinion that no danger was to be apprehended, and that the true policy was one of noninterference.

The dance constantly gathered strength among the Arapaho and Cheyenne, in spite of the failure of the first prediction, and spread rapidly to the neighboring tribes, Sitting Bull himself being the high priest and chief propagandist. The adverse report brought back by Ä′piatañ, the Kiowa, in the spring of 1891 had no effect outside of his own tribe. In the early part of that year the Arapaho and Cheyenne sent a delegation, including one woman, to visit the messiah in Nevada and bring back the latest news from heaven. They were gone a considerable time and returned with some of the sacred medicine paint given them by Wovoka, after having taken part with the Paiute in a Ghost dance under his leadership at the regular dance ground near Mason valley. Tall Bull, captain of the Cheyenne police, was one of this party, and Arnold Woolworth, a Carlisle student, acted as interpreter.

In August, 1891, another delegation went out, consisting of Black Coyote, Little Raven, Red Wolf, Grant Left Hand, and Casper Edson (Arapaho), and Black Sharp Nose and Standing Bull (Cheyenne). Grant Left Hand and Casper Edson, Carlisle students, acted as interpreters, wrote down the words of the messiah, and delivered his message to their people on their return. This message, as written down at the time by Casper Edson, is given in the preceding chapter on the doctrine of the Ghost dance. In accord with the messiah’s instructions the two tribes now changed their manner of dancing from frequent small dances at each camp at irregular intervals to larger dances participated in by several camps together at regular intervals of six weeks, each dance continuing for five consecutive days. The Caddo and Wichita also adopted the new rule in agreement with instructions brought back by a delegation sent out about the same time. The change was opposed by Sitting Bull and some others, but the delegates, having the authority of the messiah for the innovation, succeeded in carrying their point, and thereafter assumed a leadership on equal terms with Sitting Bull, who from that time lost much of his interest in the dance. They were gone about two weeks, and brought back with them a quantity of the sacred paint and a large number of magpie feathers, the kind commonly worn by the Paiute in the Ghost dance. This started a demand for magpie feathers, and the shrewd traders soon turned the fact to their own advantage by importing selected crow feathers, which they sold to the unsuspecting Indians for the genuine article at the rate of two feathers for a quarter. While in the land of the Paiute the delegates took part in the Ghost dance at Mason valley, and were thrown into a trance by Wovoka, as related in [chapter ix].

The Ghost dance practically superseded all other dances among the Cheyenne and Arapaho, and constantly developed new features, notably the auxiliary “crow dance,” which was organized by Grant Left Hand. This was claimed as a dance seen in a trance vision of the spirit world, but is really only a modification of the “Omaha dance,” common to the northern prairie tribes. The opening of the reservation and the influx of the whites served to intensify the religious fervor of the Indians, who were now more than ever made to feel their dependent and helpless condition. It was impossible, however, that the intense mental strain could endure forever, and after the failure of the predictions on the appointed dates the wild excitement gradually cooled and crystallized into a fixed but tranquil expectation of ultimate happiness under the old conditions in another world.

In October, 1892, another delegation, consisting of Sitting Bull and his wife, with Washee and two other Arapaho, and Edward Guerrier, a half-blood Cheyenne, visited the messiah. They brought back a very discouraging report, which was in substance that the messiah was tired of so many visitors and wanted them to go home and tell their tribes to stop dancing. Although the Indians generally refused to accept the message as genuine, the effect was naturally depressing. A year later, in October, 1893, Black Coyote and several others dictated through me a letter to Wovoka, asking him to send them some of the sacred paint or anything else that would make them think of him, with “some good words to help us and our children,” and requesting to know whether he had been truthfully reported by the delegates of the preceding year. To one who knows these people their simple religious faith is too touching to be a subject of amusement.

The messiah doctrine never gained many converts among the Comanche, excepting those of the Penätĕ′ka division and a few others living on the Little Washita and other streams on the northern boundary of the reservation, adjoining the tribes most interested in the Ghost dance. These Comanche held a few Ghost dances and made a few songs, but the body of the tribe would have nothing to do with it. This lack of interest was due partly to the general skeptical temperament of the Comanche, evinced in their carelessness in regard to ceremonial forms, and partly to their tribal pride, which forbade their following after the strange gods of another people, as they considered their own mescal rite sufficient to all their needs. Quanah Parker, their head chief, a shrewd half-blood, opposed the new doctrine and prevented its spread among his tribe.

The Ghost dance was brought to the Pawnee, Ponca, Oto, Missouri, Kansa, Iowa, Osage, and other tribes in central Oklahoma by delegates from the Arapaho and Cheyenne in the west. The doctrine made slow progress for some time, but by February, 1892, the majority of the Pawnee were dancing in confident expectation of the speedy coming of the messiah and the buffalo. Of all these tribes the Pawnee took most interest in the new doctrine, becoming as much devoted to the Ghost dance as the Arapaho themselves. The leader among the Pawnee was Frank White, and among the Oto was Buffalo Black. The agent in charge took stringent measures against the dance, and had the Oto prophet arrested and confined in the Wichita jail, threatening at the same time to cut off supplies from the tribe. As the confederated Oto and Missouri number only 362 in all, they were easily brought into subjection, and the dance was abandoned. The same method was pursued with the Pawnee prophet and his people, but as they are stronger in number than the Oto, they were proportionately harder to deal with, but the final result was the same. ([Comr.], 43.) The Osage gave but little heed to the story, perhaps from the fact that, as they are the wealthiest tribe in the country, they feel no such urgent need of a redeemer as their less fortunate brethren. The Sauk, Fox, Kickapoo, and Potawatomi engaged in the dance only to a limited extent, for the reason that a number of the natives of these tribes, particularly the Potawatomi, are under Catholic influences, while most of the others adhere to the doctrine of Känakûk, the Potawatomi prophet mentioned in [chapter v].

The Ghost dance doctrine was communicated directly to the Caddo, Wichita, Kichai, Delaware, and Kiowa by the Arapaho and Cheyenne, their neighbors on the north. We shall speak now of the tribes first mentioned, leaving the Kiowa until the last. The Caddo, Wichita, Kichai, and several remnants of cognate tribes, with a small band of the Delaware, numbering in all about a thousand Indians, occupy a reservation between the Washita and the South Canadian in western Oklahoma, having the Arapaho and Cheyenne on the north and west, the Kiowa on the south, and the whites of Oklahoma and the Chickasaw nation on the east. The Caddo are the leading tribe, numbering more than half of the whole body. They were the first of these to take up the dance, and have manifested the greatest interest in it from the time it was introduced among them.

A number of Caddo first attended the great Ghost dance held by the Cheyenne and Arapaho on the South Canadian in the fall of 1890 on the occasion when Sitting Bull came down from the north and inaugurated the trances. On returning to their homes they started the Ghost dance, which they kept up, singing the Arapaho songs as they had heard them on the Canadian, until Sitting Bull came down about December, 1890, to give them further instruction in the doctrine and to “give the feather” to the seven persons selected to lead the ceremony. From this time the Caddo had songs and trances of their own, the chief priest and hypnotist of the dance being Nĭshkû′ntŭ, “Moon Head,” or John Wilson. The Caddo and the Delaware usually danced together on Boggy Creek. The Wichita and the Kichai, who took the doctrine from the Caddo, usually danced together on Sugar creek about 15 miles from the agency at Anadarko, but manifested less interest in the matter until Sitting Bull came down about the beginning of February, 1891, and “gave the feather” to the leaders. From this time all these tribes went into the dance heart and soul, on some occasions dancing for days and nights together from the middle of the afternoon until the sun was well up in the morning. The usual custom was to continue until about midnight. Cold weather had no deterrent effect, and they kept up the dance in the snow, the trance subjects sometimes lying unconscious in the snow for half an hour at a time. At this time it was confidently expected that the great change would occur in the spring, and as the time drew near the excitement became most intense. The return of the Kiowa delegate, Ä′piatañ, in the middle of February, 1891, with a report adverse to the messiah, produced no effect on the Caddo and their confederates, who refused to put any faith in his statements, claiming that he had not seen the real messiah or else had been bribed by the whites to make a false report.

About the time that Black Coyote and the others went out to see the messiah in the fall of 1891 the Caddo and their confederates sent out a delegation for the same purpose. The delegates were Billy Wilson and Squirrel (Caddo), Nashtowi and Lawrie Tatum (Wichita), and Jack Harry (Delaware). Tatum was a schoolboy and acted as interpreter for the party. Like the Arapaho they came back impressed with reverence for the messiah, and at once changed the time and method of the dancing, in accordance with his instructions, to periodical dances at intervals of six weeks, continuing for five consecutive days, the dance on the last night being kept up until daylight, when all the participants went down to bathe in the stream and then dispersed to their homes. They were dancing in this fashion when last visited in the fall of 1893.

The principal leader of the Ghost dance among the Caddo is Nĭshkû′ntŭ, “Moon Head,” known to the whites as John Wilson. Although considered a Caddo, and speaking only that language, he is very much of a mixture, being half Delaware, one-fourth Caddo, and one-fourth French. One of his grandfathers was a Frenchman. As the Caddo lived originally in Louisiana, there is a considerable mixture of French blood among them, which manifests itself in his case in a fairly heavy beard. He is about 50 years of age, rather tall and well built, and wears his hair at full length flowing loosely over his shoulders. With a good head and strong, intelligent features, he presents the appearance of a natural leader. He is also prominent in the mescal rite, which has recently come to his tribe from the Kiowa and Comanche. He was one of the first Caddo to go into a trance, the occasion being the great Ghost dance held by the Arapaho and Cheyenne near Darlington agency, at which Sitting Bull presided, in the fall of 1890. On his return to consciousness he had wonderful things to tell of his experiences in the spirit world, composed a new song, and from that time became the high priest of the Caddo dance. Since then his trances have been frequent, both in and out of the Ghost dance, and in addition to his leadership in this connection he assumes the occult powers and authority of a great medicine-man, all the powers claimed by him being freely conceded by his people.

When Captain Scott was investigating the Ghost dance among the Caddo and other tribes of that section, at the period of greatest excitement, in the winter of 1890–91, he met Wilson, of whom he has this to say:

John Wilson, a Caddo man of much prominence, was especially affected, performing a series of gyrations that were most remarkable. At all hours of the day and night his cry could be heard all over camp, and when found he would be dancing in the ring, possibly upon one foot, with his eyes closed and the forefinger of his right hand pointed upward, or in some other ridiculous posture. Upon being asked his reasons for assuming these attitudes he replied that he could not help it; that it came over him just like cramps.

Somewhat later Captain Scott says:

John Wilson had progressed finely, and was now a full-fledged doctor, a healer of diseases, and a finder of stolen property through supernatural means. One day, while we were in his tent, a Wichita woman entered, led by the spirit. It was explained to us that she did not even know who lived there, but some force she could not account for brought her. Having stated her case to John, he went off into a fit of the jerks, in which his spirit went up and saw “his father” [i. e., God], who directed him how to cure this woman. When he came to, he explained the cure to her, and sent her away rejoicing. Soon afterwards a Keechei man came in, who was blind of one eye, and who desired to have the vision restored. John again consulted his father, who informed him that nothing could be done for that eye because that man held aloof from the dance.

While the author was visiting the Caddo on Sugar creek in the fall of 1893, John Wilson came down from his own camp to explain his part in the Ghost dance. He wore a wide-brim hat, with his hair flowing down to his shoulders, and on his breast, suspended from a cord about his neck, was a curious amulet consisting of the polished end of a buffalo horn, surrounded by a circlet of downy red feathers, within another circle of badger and owl claws. He explained that this was the source of his prophetic and clairvoyant inspiration. The buffalo horn was “God’s heart,” the red feathers contained his own heart, and the circle of claws represented the world. When he prayed for help, his heart communed with “God’s heart,” and he learned what he wished to know. He had much to say also of the moon. Sometimes in his trances he went to the moon and the moon taught him secrets. It must be remembered that sun, moon, stars, and almost every other thing in nature are considered by the Indians as endowed with life and spirit. He claimed an intimate acquaintance with the other world and asserted positively that he could tell me “just what heaven is like.” Another man who accompanied him had a yellow sun with green rays painted on his forehead, with an elaborate rayed crescent in green, red, and yellow on his chin, and wore a necklace from which depended a crucifix and a brass clock-wheel, the latter, as he stated, representing the sun.

On entering the room where I sat awaiting him, Nĭshkû′ntŭ approached and performed mystic passes in front of my face with his hands, after the manner of the hypnotist priests in the Ghost dance, blowing upon me the while, as he afterward explained to blow evil things away from me before beginning to talk on religious subjects. He was good enough to state also that he had prayed for light before coming, and had found that my heart was good. Laying one hand on my head, and grasping my own hand with the other, he prayed silently for some time with bowed head, and then lifting his hand from my head, he passed it over my face, down my shoulder and arm to the hand, which he grasped and pressed slightly, and then released the fingers with a graceful upward sweep, as in the minuet. The first part of this—the laying of the hands upon the head, afterward drawing them down along the face and chest or arms—is the regular Indian form of blessing, reverential gratitude, or prayerful entreaty, and is of frequent occurrence in connection with the Ghost dance, when the believers ask help of the priests or beg the prayers of the older people. The next day about twenty or more Caddo came by on their way to the agency, all dressed and painted for a dance that was to be held that night. They stopped awhile to see us, and on entering the room where we were the whole company, men, women, and children, went through the same ceremony, with each one of the inmates in turn, beginning with Wilson and myself, and ending with the members of the family. The ceremony occupied a considerable time, and was at once beautiful and impressive. Not a word was said by either party during the while, excepting as someone in excess of devotion would utter prayerful exclamations aloud like the undertone of a litany. Every face wore a look of reverent solemnity, from the old men and women down to little children of 6 and 8 years. Several of them, the women especially, trembled while praying, as under the excitement of the Ghost dance. The religious greeting being over, the women of the family, with those of the party, went out to prepare the dinner, while the rest remained to listen to the doctrinal discussion.

The Kiowa were predisposed to accept the doctrine of the Ghost dance. No tribe had made more desperate resistance to the encroachments of the whites upon their hunting grounds, and even after the failure of the last effort of the confederated tribes in 1874–75, the Kiowa were slow to accept the verdict of defeat. The result of this unsuccessful struggle was to put an end to the boundless freedom of the prairie, where they had roamed unquestioned from Dakota almost to central Mexico, and henceforth the tribes were confined within the narrow limits of reservations. Within five years the great southern buffalo herd was extinct and the Indians found themselves at once prisoners and paupers. The change was so swift and terrible in its effects that they could not believe it real and final. It seemed to them like a dream of sorrow, a supernatural cloud of darkness to punish their derelictions, but which could be lifted from them by prayer and sacrifice. Their old men told of years when the buffalo was scarce or had gone a long way off, but never since the beginning of the world of a time when there was no buffalo. The buffalo still lived beyond their horizon or in caves under the earth, and with its return would come back prosperity and freedom. Before we wonder at their faith we must remember that the disappearance of these millions of buffalo in the space of a few years has no parallel in the annals of natural history.

In 1881 a young Kiowa named Da′tekañ, “Keeps-his-name-always,” began to “make medicine” to bring back the buffalo. He set up a sacred tipi, in front of which he erected a pole with a buffalo skin at the top, and made for himself a priestly robe of red color, trimmed with rows of eagle feathers. Then standing in front of his tipi he called the people around him and told them that he had been commanded and empowered in a dream to bring back the buffalo, and if they observed strictly the prayers and ceremonies which he enjoined the great herds would once more cover the prairie. His hearers believed his words, promised strict obedience, and gave freely of their blankets and other property to reward his efforts in their behalf. Da′tekañ retired to his sacred tipi, where, in his feathered robe of office, he continued to prophesy and make buffalo medicine for a year, when he died without seeing the realization of his hopes. The excitement caused by his predictions came to the notice of the agent then in charge, who mentions it in his annual report, without understanding the cause. On a Kiowa calendar obtained by the author the event is recorded in a pictograph which represents the medicine-man in his tipi, with his scarlet robe over his shoulders and a buffalo beneath his feet ([figure 84]).

Fig. 84—Two Kiowa prophecies (from a Kiowa calendar).

About six years later, in 1887, another prophet, named Pa′-iñgya, “In the Middle,” revived the prophecy, claiming to be heir to all the supernatural powers of his late predecessor. He amplified the doctrine by asserting, logically enough, that as the whites were responsible for the disappearance of the buffalo, the whites themselves would be destroyed by the gods when the time was at hand for the return of the buffalo. He preached also his own invulnerability and claimed the power to kill with a look those who might offend him, as far as his glance could reach. He fixed his headquarters on Elk creek, near the western limit of the reservation, where he inaugurated a regular series of ritual observances, under the management of ten chosen assistants. Finally he announced that the time was at hand when the whites would be removed and the buffalo would return. He ordered all the tribe to assemble on Elk creek, where after four days he would bring down fire from heaven which would destroy the agency, the schools, and the white race, with the Indian unbelievers all together. The faithful need not fear pursuit by the troops, for the soldiers who might follow would wither before his glance and their bullets would have no effect on the Indians. On the same Kiowa calendar this prediction is recorded in another pictograph intended to represent flying bullets. The whole Kiowa tribe caught the infection of his words. Every camp was abandoned, parents took their children from the schools, and all fled to the rendezvous on Elk creek. Here they waited patiently for their deliverance till the predicted day came and passed without event, when they returned with sadness to their camps and their government rations of white man’s beef. Pa′-iñgya still lives, but the halo of prophecy no longer surrounds him. To account for the disappointment he claimed that his people had violated some of the ordinances and thereby postponed the destined happiness. In this way their minds were kept dwelling on the subject, and when at last the rumor of a messiah came from the north he hailed it as the fulfillment of the prediction.

Early in the summer of 1890 the news of the advent of the messiah reached the Kiowa, and in June of that year they sent a delegation of about twenty men under the leadership of Pa′tadal, “Poor Buffalo,” to Cheyenne and Arapaho agency at Darlington to learn more about the matter. They brought back a favorable report and also a quantity of the sacred red paint procured originally from the country of the messiah. Soon after there was a great gathering of the Kiowa and Apache at the agency at Anadarko to receive a payment of “grass money” due from the cattlemen for the lease of pasturage on the reservation. On this occasion the Ghost dance was formally inaugurated among the Kiowa, Poor Buffalo assuming direction of the ceremony, and painting the principal participants with the sacred red paint with his own hands. The dance was carried back to their various camps and became a part of the tribal life.

Fig. 85—Poor Buffalo.

About this time a Sioux chief, High Wolf, came down from the north to visit the Cheyenne, Arapaho, Kiowa, and other tribes in that section. He remained some time among them, and on his return to the north invited a young Kiowa named Ä′piatañ, “Wooden Lance,” whose grandmother had been a Sioux captive, to come up and visit his relatives at Pine Ridge. The invitation was accepted by Ä′piatañ, partly for the pleasure of seeing a new tribe and meeting his mother’s kindred, but chiefly for the purpose of investigating for himself and for the Kiowa the truth of the messiah story, Äpiatañ, who speaks but little English, and who was then about 30 years of age, had recently lost a child to whom he had been very much attached. He brooded over his loss until the new doctrine came with its promise of a reunion with departed friends and its possibility of seeing and talking with them in visions of the trance. Moved by parental affection, which is the ruling passion with an Indian, he determined on this long journey in search of the messiah, who was vaguely reported to be somewhere in the north, to learn from his own lips the wonderful story, and to see if it were possible to talk again with his child. He discussed the matter with the chiefs, who decided to send him as a delegate to find the messiah and learn the truth or falsity of the reports, in order that the Kiowa might be guided by the result on his return. A sufficient sum of money was raised for his expenses, and he left for the north in September, 1890. Almost the whole tribe had assembled at the agency to witness his departure, and each in turn of the principal men performed over him a ceremony of blessing, such as has already been described. His going and return are both recorded on the calendar previously mentioned.

PL. CVI

Mary Irvin Wright

BI′ÄÑK̔I, THE KIOWA DREAMER

In October, 1890, shortly after Ä′piatañ’s departure, Sitting Bull, the Arapaho prophet of the Ghost dance, came down from his tribe and gave new impetus to the excitement among the Kiowa. This event also is recorded on the same Kiowa calendar in a well-drawn picture representing a buffalo standing beside the figure of a man ([figure 86]). It is also indicated less definitely on another calendar obtained from the tribe. Sitting Bull confirmed, as by personal knowledge, all that had been told of the messiah, and predicted that the new earth would arrive in the following spring, 1891. The Kiowa assembled on the Washita, at the mouth of Rainy Mountain creek, and here, at the largest Ghost dance ever held by the tribe, Sitting Bull consecrated seven men and women as leaders of the dance and teachers of the doctrine by giving to each one a sacred feather to be worn in the dance as the badge of priesthood. Until the Ghost dance came to the prairie tribes their women had never before been raised to such dignity as to be allowed to wear feathers in their hair. After “giving the feather” to the leaders thus chosen, they were taught the songs and ritual of the dance. At first the songs were all in the Arapaho language, but after the trances, which now began to be frequent, the Kiowa composed songs of their own.

Fig. 86—Sitting Bull comes down (from a Kiowa calendar).

Among the dreamers and prophets who now came to the front was one who merits more than a passing notice. His original name was Bi′äñk̔i, “Eater,” but on account of his frequent visits to the spirit world he is now known as Äsa′tito′la, which maybe freely rendered “The Messenger.” For a long time he had been in the habit of going alone upon the mountain, there to fast and pray until visions came to him, when he would return and give to his people the message of inspiration. Frequently these vigils were undertaken at the request of friends of sick people to obtain spiritual knowledge of the proper remedies to be applied, or at the request of surviving relatives who wished to hear from their departed friends in the other world. He is now about 55 years of age, quiet and dignified in manner, with a thoughtful cast of countenance which accords well with his character as a priest and seer. His intellectual bent is further shown by the fact that he has invented a system of ideographic writing which is nearly as distinct from the ordinary Indian pictograph system as it is from our own alphabet. It is based on the sign language of the plains tribes, the primary effort being to convey the idea by a pictured representation of the gesture sign; but, as in the evolution of the alphabet, a part is frequently put for the whole, and numerous arbitrary or auxiliary characters are added, until the result is a well-developed germ of an alphabetic system. He has taught the system to his sons, and by this means was able to keep up a correspondence with them while they were attending Carlisle school. It is unintelligible to the rest of the tribe. I have specimens of this curious graphic method, obtained from the father and his sons, which maybe treated at length at some future time. In the picture of Äsa′tito′la ([plate cvi]), he holds in one hand a paper on which is depicted one of his visions, while in the other is the pointer with which he explains its meaning.

[Plate cvii] herewith represents this vision. On this occasion, after reaching the spirit world he found himself on a vast prairie covered with herds of buffalo and ponies, represented respectively in the picture by short black and green lines at the top. He went on through the buffalo, the way being indicated by the dotted green lines, until he came to a large Kiowa camp, in which, according to their old custom, nearly every tipi had its distinctive style of painting or ornamentation to show to what family it belonged, all these families being still represented in the tribe. He went on to the point indicated by the first heavy blue mark, where he met four young women, whom he knew as having died years before, returning on horseback with their saddle-pouches filled with wild plums. After some conversation he asked them about two brothers, his relatives, who had died some time ago. He went in the direction pointed out by the young women and soon met the two young men coming into camp with a load of fresh buffalo meat hung at their saddles. Their names were Emanki′na, “Can’t-hold-it,” a policeman, and E′‛pea, “Afraid-of-him,” who had died while held as a prisoner of war in Florida about fifteen years before. It will be noted that they are represented in the picture as armed only with bows and arrows, in agreement with the Ghost-dance doctrine of a return to aboriginal things. After proceeding some distance he retraced his steps and met two curious beings, represented in the picture by green figures with crosses instead of heads. These told him to go on, and on doing so he came to an immense circle of Kiowa dancing the Ghost dance around a cedar tree, indicated by the black circle with a green figure resembling a tree in the center. He stood for a while near the tree, shown by another blue mark, when he saw a woman, whom he knew, leave the dance. He hurried after her until she reached her own tipi and went into it—shown by the blue mark beside the red tipi with red flags on the ends of the tipi poles—when he turned around and came back. She belonged to the family of the great chief Sett’aiñti, “White Bear,” as indicated by the red tipi with red flags, no other warrior in the tribe having such a tipi. On inquiring for his own relatives he was directed to the other side of the camp, where he met a man—represented by the heavy black mark—who told him his own people were inside of the next tipi. On entering he found the whole family, consisting of his father, two brothers, two sisters, and several children, feasting on fresh buffalo beef from a kettle hung over the fire. They welcomed him and offered him some of the meat, which for some reason he was afraid to taste. To convince him that it was good they held it up for him to smell, when he awoke and found himself lying alone upon the mountain.

PL. CVII

JULIUS BIEN & CO. N.Y.

BIÄÑKI’S VISION.

Ä′piatañ went on first to Pine Ridge, where he was well received by the Sioux, who had much to say of the new messiah in the west. He was urged to stop and join them in the Ghost dance, but refused and hurried on to Fort Washakie, where he met the northern Arapaho and the Shoshoni, whom he called the “northern Comanches.” Here the new prophecy was the one topic of conversation, and after stopping only long enough to learn the proper route to the Paiute country, he went on over the Union Pacific railroad to Nevada. On arriving at the agency at Pyramid lake the Paiute furnished him a wagon and an Indian guide across the country to the home of Wovoka in the upper end of Mason valley. The next day he was admitted to his presence. The result was a complete disappointment. A single interview convinced him of the utter falsity of the pretensions of the messiah and the deceptive character of the hopes held out to the believers.

Saddened and disgusted, Ä′piatañ made no stay, but started at once on his return home. On his way back he stopped at Bannock agency at Fort Hall, Idaho, and from there sent a letter to his people, stating briefly that he had seen the messiah and that the messiah was a fraud. This was the first intimation the Kiowa had received from an Indian source that their hopes were not well grounded. The author was present when the letter was received at Anadarko and read to the assembled Indians by Ä′piatañ’s sister, an educated woman named Laura Dunmoi, formerly of Carlisle school. The result was a division of opinion. Some of the Indians, feeling that the ground had been taken from under them, at once gave up all hope and accepted the inevitable of despair. Others were disposed to doubt the genuineness of the letter, as it had come through the medium of a white man, and decided to withhold their decision until they could hear directly from the delegate himself. Ä′piatañ returned in the middle of February, 1891. The agent sent notice to the various camps on the reservation for the Indians to assemble at the agency to hear his report, and also sent a request to Cheyenne and Arapaho agency to have Sitting Bull come down at the same time so that the Indians might hear both sides of the story.

Fig. 87—Ä′piatañ.

PL. CVIII

KIOWA SUMMER SHELTER

The council was held at the agency at Anadarko, Oklahoma, on February 19, 1891, the author being among those present on the occasion. It was a great gathering, representing every tribe on the reservation, there being also in attendance a number of Arapaho who had accompanied Sitting Bull from the other agency. Everything said was interpreted in turn into English, Kiowa, Comanche, Caddo, Wichita, and Arapaho. This was a slow process, and necessitated frequent repetition, so that the talk occupied all day. Ä′piatañ first made his report, which was interpreted into the various languages. Questions were asked by the agent, Mr Adams, and by leading Indians, and after the full details had been obtained in this manner Sitting Bull, the Arapaho, was called on to make his statement. The scene was dramatic in the highest degree. Although in a certain sense Sitting Bull himself was on trial, it meant more than that to the assembled tribe. Their power, prosperity, and happiness had gone down, their very race was withering away before the white man. The messiah doctrine promised a restoration of the old conditions through supernatural assistance. If this hope was without foundation, the Indian had no future and his day was forever past.

After some preliminaries Ä′piatañ arose and told his story. He had gone on as related until he arrived at the home of Wovoka in Mason valley. Here he was told that the messiah could not be seen until the next day. On being finally admitted to his presence he found him lying down, his face covered with a blanket, and singing to himself. When he had finished the song the messiah uncovered his face and asked Ä′piatañ, through an interpreter, what he wanted. As Ä′piatañ had approached with great reverence under the full belief that the messiah was omniscient, able to read his secret thoughts and to speak all languages, this question was a great surprise to him, and his faith at once began to waver. However, he told who he was and why he had come, and then asked that he be permitted to see some of his dead relatives, particularly his little child. Wovoka replied that this was impossible, and that there were no spirits there to be seen. With their mixture of Christian and aboriginal ideas many of the Indians had claimed that this messiah was the veritable Christ and bore upon his hands and feet the scars of the crucifixion. Not seeing these scars, Ä′piatañ expressed some doubt as to whether Wovoka was really the messiah he had come so far to see, to which Wovoka replied that he need go no farther for there was no other messiah, and went on to say that he had preached to Sitting Bull and the others and had given them a new dance, but that some of them, especially the Sioux, had twisted things and made trouble, and now Ä′piatañ had better go home and tell his people to quit the whole business. Discouraged and sick at heart Ä′piatañ went out from his presence, convinced that there was no longer a god in Israel.

After the story had been told and interpreted to each of the tribes, Sitting Bull was called on for his statement. He told how he had visited the messiah a year before and what the messiah had said to him. The two versions were widely different, and there can be little question that Wovoka made claims and prophecies, supported by hypnotic performances, from which he afterward receded when he found that the excitement had gone beyond his control and resulted in an Indian outbreak. Sitting Bull insisted on the truth of his own representations, and when accused by Ä′piatañ of deceiving the Indians in order to obtain their property he replied that he had never asked them for the ponies which they had given him, and that if they did not believe what he had told them they could come and take their ponies again. Ä′piatañ replied that that was not the Kiowa road; what had once been given was not taken back. Sitting Bull spoke in a low musical voice, and the soft Arapaho syllables contrasted pleasantly with the choking sounds of the Kiowa and the boisterous loudness of the Wichita. I could not help a feeling of pity for him when at the close of the council he drew his blanket around him and went out from the gathering to cross the river to the Caddo camp, attended only by his faithful Arapahos. For his services in reporting against the dance Ä′piatañ received a medal from President Harrison.

This was for some time the end of the Ghost dance among the Kiowa, for while some few of the tribes were disposed to doubt the honesty or correctness of the report, the majority accepted it as final, and from that time the dance became a mere amusement for children. The other tribes, however—the Caddo, Wichita, and their allies—refused to accept the report, claiming that Ä′piatañ had been hired by white men to lie to the Indians, and that he had never really seen the messiah, as he claimed. Even the Apache, although in close tribal connection with the Kiowa, continued to hold to the doctrine and the dance.

Note.—Since the above was written and while awaiting publication there has been a revival of the Ghost dance among the Kiowa, brought about chiefly through the efforts of Bi′äñk̔i, Pa′tadal, and others of its former priests. After several times dispersing the dancers and threatening them with severe penalties if they persisted, the agent was finally obliged to give permission, on the earnest request of a delegation of chiefs and head men of the tribe, with the result that in September, 1894, the Kiowa publicly revived the ceremony in a great dance on the Washita, which lasted four days and was attended by several thousand Indians from all the surrounding tribes.

PL. CIX

JULIUS BIEN & CO. N.Y.

GHOST DANCE PAINTING ON BUCKSKIN

EXPLANATION OF PLATE CIX.

The original of this picture was drawn in colored inks on buckskin by Yellow Nose, a Ute captive among the Cheyenne, in 1891. It was obtained from him by the author and is now deposited in the National Museum at Washington. Besides being a particularly fine specimen of Indian pictography, it gives an excellent idea of the ghost dance as it was at that time among the Cheyenne and Arapaho. The dancers are in full costume, with paint and feathers. The women of the two tribes are plainly distinguished by the arrangement of their hair, the Cheyenne women having the hair braided at the side, while the Arapaho women wear it hanging loosely. Two of the women carry children on their backs. One of the men carries the bä′qati wheel, another a shinny stick, and a woman holds out the sacred crow, while several wave handkerchiefs which aid in producing the hypnotic effect. In the center are several persons with arms outstretched and rigid, while at one side is seen the medicine-man hypnotizing a subject who stretches out toward him a blue handkerchief. The spotted object on the ground behind the medicine-man is a shawl which has fallen from the shoulders of the woman standing near.

Chapter XV
THE CEREMONY OF THE GHOST DANCE

In chapter xi we have spoken of the Ghost dance as it existed among the Paiute, Shoshoni, Walapai, and Cohonino, west of the mountains. We shall now give a more detailed account of the ceremony and connected ritual among the prairie tribes.