Arrived at the village, some of the squaws, wives to the warriors of the party, assume the dress of their husbands, and, with the rods bearing the scalps in their hands, dance around a large post, reddened with vermillion, and, in concert with the young warriors, sing the war and scalp songs; the young warriors occasionally step into the ring of the dancers, and all keep time, with dance and song, to the loud beat of the gong. Into this dance are also admitted the relatives of the war party.
This barbarous dance appears to delight them, {19} and particularly the squaws, who are the principal actors, more than almost any other of their enjoyments.
Indeed, it is to the squaws that many of these excursions are attributable, as those whose husbands have not been successful in war, frequently murmur, saying, "You have had me for a wife a long time, and have never yet gratified me with the scalp dance."
Those squaws, whose husbands or relatives have been killed during the excursions of the party, take no part in this blissful dance, but rub themselves with clay, and lament.
This dance is repeated every night for two or three weeks, after which it is renewed occasionally for a twelvemonth. The scalps are often cut into slips, that many of the dancers may be accommodated with them; but this was never done with an intention to deceive, respecting the actual number of the enemy killed. After the termination of this ceremony, the scalps are either thrown away, or are used to decorate the leggings of the warrior, or to suspend from his medicine-bag, or from the bridle of his horse.
Soon after the return of the party, the principal warriors are invited to feasts by different villagers, where they recount the events that have transpired during their absence. They narrate the mode of approaching the enemy, the onset, the battle, all the little particulars of which are detailed: but they seem to dwell with particular pleasure on the conduct of individuals of the enemy, as it appeared immediately before they received the death blow; if there was any movement of the body, or emotion exhibited upon the countenance of the victim, that betrayed a want of firmness, or fear of death, at that awful juncture, the account excites much laughter in the audience. If the disabled individual was so imbecile as to shrink from a blow of the tomahawk {20} or war-club, he is ridiculed as a coward. If he is said to have cried for quarter, or begged for mercy, or to have held up the palm of his hand towards the victor to appease his vengeance, the account is received with ridicule and laughter, at the expense of the deceased. If, on the contrary, he is said to have perished with that stoicism and contempt of death, which is regarded as worthy of the Indian warrior, the auditors, although they may smile with pleasure at the death of an enemy, yet pay due honour to his manes, saying he was a brave fellow; and they do not fail to applaud the bravery of his victor also.
All those of the party who have first struck a body, or taken a prisoner, paint themselves black, and if any strangers are in the village, they put on their crow, and appear before them, or near them, and sing their war-song in which their exploits are detailed.
The prisoners are differently treated according to their sex, age, and qualifications. Of the squaws they make slaves, or rather servants, though these are sometimes advantageously married. To the young men the task of tending horses is commonly assigned; but the children are generally adopted into their families, and are treated in every respect as their own offspring; when arrived at maturity they are identified with the nation, and it would be an insult to apply the name of their own countrymen to them.