CHAPTER II.
Journey to the Grand Pawnee Village.—Old Indian Female.—Chief’s Lodge.—Indian Feasts.—Kioway Female.
As soon as we emerged from the crowd that had surrounded us, we perceived the plain between us and the village swarming with the rest of its inhabitants. It appeared as if every man, woman, and child had looked upon the day of our arrival, as one of jubilee. The boys had thrown aside their bows and arrows, the females had abandoned their drudgery, and the old men had ceased their songs of former victories, to paint themselves up for the festival. The reception was over, and all the requisite awe of their nation had been impressed upon us. They now threw aside the stern, unbending character of the Indian warrior, and pressed round us with all the kind hospitality of hosts, in receiving their most welcome guests.
Small bands of young men amused themselves by dashing around the party, at the full speed of their horses, and attempting to oust each other from their saddles by the violent collision of their animals. Occasionally a few would start off in a race across the plain, whooping and screaming, and clattering their arms in the ears of their steeds, to excite them even beyond the mad rate at which they were careering.
Others of the young men hung round the party, making their remarks on its different members, and occasionally exciting loud peals of laughter from their comrades. These however were frequently cut short by a stern word from one of the chiefs.
The whole road from the plain to the village, was lined with women and children. They had not dared to approach during the formalities of our reception, but now eagerly pressed forward to gaze upon so unwonted a sight as that of a white stranger entering freely into their village. Besides this they were all anxious to gratify that curiosity which is peculiarly strong in the bosom of an Indian—especially a female.
They were nearly all mounted upon little stiff-maned drudge horses of the village, sometimes singly, but generally in clusters of two or three.
In particular, one withered, gray-headed old squaw, with a family of four children under her charge, attracted our attention. She was mounted upon a little wall-eyed, cream-coloured pony, with a roach mane and a bob-tail. There was a lurking devil looking out of his half-closed eye, the very antipodes of his rider, who sat upon his back like the picture of Patience. Her charge she had arranged, as well as could be expected from a person in her situation. One little fellow, whose eyes gleamed like sparks of fire, from beneath the long tangled hair, which nearly covered his face, was striding almost upon the neck of the horse, armed with a heavy Indian whip. One little one was dozing in her arms, another was clinging tightly to her back. The face of a fourth, like the head of a caterpillar, just ready to emerge from a cocoon, was peering from the mouth of a leather bag, fastened between her shoulders.
But though the woman thus scrupulously divided the burden with her steed, he seemed far from satisfied with his situation, and at last determined to rid himself of his encumbrance.
Tossing his head in the air, he commenced waltzing, and capering round upon his hind feet, to the great discomfiture of the squaw. In great tribulation she reached out both hands, and clung with might and main to the high pommel of the Indian pack-saddle, while two of the children, left to their own guidance, clung like monkeys round her body.
The horse, finding that the first experiment had not succeeded to his satisfaction, altered his plan of action. He planted his fore feet firmly upon the sod, and flourished his heels as high in the air as his head was the moment before. Still his rider continued to cling to the saddle, making use of every expression of Indian objurgation and soothing, in a vain appeal to the sensibilities of the restive animal. There was one, however, evidently delighted with his capers; this was the naked little elf perched upon his neck, who evidently aided and abetted the mutiny by a sudden switch of his whip—occasionally casting back his sly, laughing black eye upon the chattering old lady and her screaming brood.
At last the animal finding that no physical force of his could free his back from the burden, came to the conclusion that the less time he spent in accomplishing his journey the shorter would be his ordeal. So he started off at a full gallop for the village, and we caught our last glimpse of him as he dashed between the lodges, urged on by the lash of his imp-like little rider.
When the party had once commenced its march, it was not long before they reached the point of destination; for though the Indians crowded forward to satisfy their curiosity, they remained at such a distance as to offer no obstacle to our progress. This rule of etiquette was, however, occasionally transgressed by troops of untrimmed, goblin-looking little urchins who hung upon the heels of the party. They crowded around the baggage wagons, and gazed with a mixture of terror and wild delight upon the oxen, who, with lolling tongues and reeling steps, were, almost inch by inch, winning their way to the village.
Several times when a circle of little curious faces, anxious to see, but ready to run, had formed around the team, a sharp, shrill scream from some more mischievous of the gang, would in an instant disperse all their rallied courage, and send them scampering at full speed over the prairie.
Another grand object of attraction was the Black Bear, who trudged in front, surrounded by a rabble crowd of women and children. From the first moment of our arrival he had been an object of intense curiosity, and had been gazed at with a mixture of fear and astonishment by the whole nation. But there is an old saying that “too much familiarity breeds contempt;” and in this case it was verified. By degrees, the circle which formed around him at a respectful distance, became more and more compressed. It was in vain that he attempted to rid himself of their company; they swarmed around him like ants. If he quickened his pace, they did the same; if he lingered, they were equally slow; and if he turned upon them, they scattered in every direction. But after a while, even this wore off, and they finally hemmed him in, so that it was almost impossible to move for the crowd. When they had thus closed upon him, the lurking spirit of mischief began to show itself. They tugged at his coat tail, they pulled his pantaloons, and they jostled him until the perspiration, the effect of fear and exertion, poured in streams down his face. At length one toothless, gray-headed old crone, attracted by the glistening appearance of his black leather cap, made a violent snatch, and seized hold of it. A hot scramble ensued for the prize, which, after much derangement to the wardrobe of the negro, was obtained by the rightful owner. He had no sooner regained his property, than he opened his shirt, and placed it next his bosom. He then buttoned his coat over it up to the chin, evincing his respect to the nation by performing the rest of his journey uncovered.
We found that the Pawnee village had been rebuilt since it was burnt by the Delawares. It is situate in the open prairie, at the foot of a long range of hills, and within about fifty yards of the Platte. The river at this place is about two miles broad, and very shallow, being constantly forded by the squaws, who visit the different islands, and obtain from them the only fuel and building materials, to be found in this part of the country.
The lodges are numerous, and stand close together, without the least regard to regularity. They are built in the same way as those in the Otoe village.
On account of the scarcity of wood, several families congregate together in the same lodge. The male portion pass the whole day, lounging and sleeping around, or gorging themselves from the large kettle filled with buffalo flesh, which is perpetually over the fire.
As we entered the village, the tops of the lodges were completely covered with women and children, and the area in front of the chief’s dwelling was equally crowded. When we reached the front, the chief, who had ridden in advance of the party, stepped from the dark passage which formed the entrance to his abode, to meet us. He was completely enveloped in a robe of white wolf skin, upon which was painted a hieroglyphic account of his warlike achievements. Upon the approach of Mr. E——, he advanced towards him, and taking the robe from his shoulders, presented it to him, requesting him (through the interpreter) to keep it for his sake. He then ushered the party into his dwelling, and pointed out the place allotted for the reception of the contents of the wagons. After this he called together a number of Indians, and gave them directions to assist in unloading. He stood at the door, watching their movements, to prevent any attempt at purloining—a crime too common among the lower classes of an Indian village.
Nearly half an hour elapsed in this way, during which time the lodge was becoming more and more crowded. One dusky form after another glided with a noiseless step over the threshold, moving across to the darkest corners of the lodge. Here they seated themselves upon the ground, and shrouded their shaggy robes around them, so as completely to screen the lower part of their faces. As they fixed their unwavering gaze upon us from the dark parts of the building their eyes seemed to shine out like glowing balls of phosphorus.
Not a word was spoken—no undertoned conversation was carried on—all was silence, save the hurried footsteps of those who were busied according to the directions of the chief. No jests were uttered, for we were now under the roof of their leader, and any word spoken in derogation of his guests would have called down instant punishment.
Upon our entrance into the lodge, a large kettle had been filled with buffalo flesh and hard corn, and placed over the fire. When we were fairly settled in our abode, and the bustle of unloading had in a measure passed away, the wife of the chief (by-the-by he had five of them) poured the whole of its contents into a large wooden bowl. She then armed each of us with a black dipper made of buffalo horn, and made signs for us to commence.
We did not wait for a second invitation, but immediately, with both fingers and dippers, attacked the mountain of food before us. We had not eaten since daylight; it was now late in the day; and the appetites of the party, never particularly delicate, having increased in proportion to the length of their fast, the devastation was enormous. But every excess brings with it its own punishment; and our case was not an exception to the general rule. Scarce had we finished, when a little Indian boy, half covered with a tattered buffalo skin, forced his way into the lodge, elbowing in among the warriors with all that transient air of consequence worn by little characters when charged with some mission of importance. He came to the side of the chief, who was sitting near us, with his legs doubled under him, after the Turkish fashion, and whispered in his ear. The chief rose, and announced that the Long Hair, the second warrior of the village, had prepared a feast in honour of our arrival, and was waiting for us to come and partake. There was some demurring as to the acceptance of this invitation. The Interpreter, however, informed us that there was no resource, as eating your way into the good will of the savages, is necessary to the success of an Indian treaty. It was useless to plead that we had already eaten sufficient, for that is a thing incredible to an Indian, who always carries with him an appetite proportioned to the quantity to be eaten, and the opportunity of doing so. Let the latter come as often as it may, it invariably finds him prepared.
After some consultation, seeing no remedy, we left the lodge, and followed our little guide through the intricacies of the village, to the dwelling of the Long Hair. When we entered he was sitting upon the ground, and motioned us to a seat upon some dirty cushions of undressed hides. He was a stern, gloomy looking man, with an anxious, wrinkled brow, a mouth like iron, and an eye like fire. He evidently made efforts to be sociable; but it was not in his nature; and during the whole feast, the stern, unbending character of the Indian warrior, was continually peering out from beneath the show of hospitality. He urged us to eat, and he even attempted to smile; but it more resembled the angry snarl of a wild-cat, than the evidence of any pleasurable emotion. In short, we liked him not, and hurried through our feast as soon as possible. When we had finished, and while a number of the party were smoking, in turn, from a large red stone pipe, which he passed round, the Doctor rose and slowly sauntered round the lodge. He at length observed a small bundle of bones, and skin, which hung from a pole crossing the centre of the lodge. Curious to know what it might contain, he reached out his hand to take hold of it. From the moment that he had left his seat, the brow of the chief had darkened, but he said nothing; contenting himself by narrowly watching the motions of his guest;—but no sooner had he touched the bundle, than the effect upon the frame of the Indian was like an electric shock. He half started from his seat; the veins on his forehead swelled like whipcord; and his eyes shot fire.—With clenched fists and extended arms, he shrieked out something between a yell and an imprecation. The secret was soon explained by the frightened Interpreter. The bundle that had attracted the curiosity of the Doctor, was the medicine bag[B] of the lodge. To disturb this is one of the greatest outrages that can be inflicted upon the superstitious feelings of an Indian. At another time, the Doctor might have paid dearly for his rashness. As it was, at the earnest solicitations of the Interpreter, he resumed his seat, and the anger of the chief passed away. Shortly after this, another courier arrived to invite us to a third feast; and taking our leave, we followed him. This feast was exactly the same as the former. Before we had finished, invitation after invitation came pouring in upon us, until we had visited about ten or fifteen lodges. One after another, the different members of the party then gave out, and returned to the abode of the chief.
[B] Every lodge in an Indian village contains what is called its Medicine Bag, which is hung up in the most conspicuous place, and regarded with the greatest veneration, not only by the inhabitants of that individual lodge, but by the whole tribe. Little is known of their contents, as they are seldom opened, and always with the greatest formalities. On these occasions, all possible care is taken to exclude strangers, whose presence or interference is regarded as a certain source of future misfortune.
Upon our return, Mr. E—— assembled the different warriors, and after some consultation, the following day was appointed for holding a council, to agree upon the terms of the treaty.
When this was settled, the chief turned and spoke a few words to the heralds.[C] They immediately started through the village, proclaiming the time appointed for the council.
[C] These heralds are self-elected, and are composed of the oldest men in the village, who run through the town to spread the orders of the chief. When no such service is required, they amuse themselves by stalking round the village, yelling out advice to the young men, with voices which may be heard at the distance of a mile, but which, as far as I was able to judge, was but little attended to.
While Mr. E—— was thus engaged, the rest of the party drew round the fire, to discuss the different events of the day. The bear-skin, forming the inner door of the lodge, was slowly raised, and a female stepped timidly in, and moved rapidly, and evidently with a desire to escape observation, into the darkest part of the lodge. Her whole appearance bespoke her a stranger. She was beautiful; and though a timid being, moved with the step of a queen. She was the wife of the Kioway Indian, and her dress was of a richness corresponding with his. A bright band of silver was fastened round her neck; a small jacket of scarlet cloth, the spoil of some pillaged caravan, edged with silver lace and beads, was secured round her waist and breast, with scarlet ribands, and a long garment of blue cloth enveloped the rest of her form. Like her husband, she wore medals of silver upon her breast, and bracelets of the same upon her wrists. Her mocassins, also, were more finely ornamented than those of the Pawnee women, who were seated around.
From the moment of her entrance, she became the object of attraction to all eyes. Observing this, she withdrew into one of the berths, and dropping in front of her a screen of grass matting, remained there for the rest of the day.