Then they rose to their feet. The first part of the mysteries of the great medicine was accomplished, and the sorcerer retired. The hachesto, or public crier took his place, and invited the principal chiefs of the confederation to dig up the war hatchet. This characteristic ceremony consists in going in procession into the medicine lodge, where the oldest chief digs up the ground with his scalping knife at a spot the sorcerer indicates, and draws out the great war hatchet, the emblem of the strife about to commence. When the hatchet is unburied, the chiefs quit the hut in the same way as they entered it. At their head marches, with the chief entrusted with the sacred token of the nation, and the brave of the great calumet, the chief who has dug up the hatchet, which he holds with both hands to his breast, with the edge turned outwards. On leaving the lodge, chiefs silently draw up in front of the ark of the first man, opposite the war post, and chance decides which chief shall have the honour of dealing the first blow on the emblematic post with the sacred hatchet.
The Indians, like all primitive peoples, are extremely superstitious; hence they attach an immense importance to this ceremony, because they fancy they can draw a good omen from the way in which the blow has been dealt, and the depth of the notch made by the edge of the blade. Lots were drawn, and chance selected Stronghand. A flattering murmur greeted this name, which was loved by the Indians, and belonged to a man whom they regarded as one of their greatest heroes. Stronghand quitted the ranks, walked into the open space in front of the ark of the first man, and seizing the hatchet which the chief presented to him, he raised it above his head, whirled it round with extreme dexterity, and then dealt a terrible stroke at the war post. The blow was dealt with such violence, the hatchet penetrated the wood so deeply, that when the sorcerer attempted to withdraw it, according to the usual custom, in spite of all his efforts he could not succeed, and was obliged to give up the attempt.
The warriors uttered a shout of joy, which, spreading along the crowd assembled to witness the ceremony, was soon converted into a hideous clamour. The war would be lucky. The omens were excellent. Never, even by the confession of the oldest sachems, had such a blow been dealt the post. Stronghand was congratulated by the chiefs and warriors, who were delighted at the result he had obtained. When the hatchet was at length removed from the post, the warriors retired to make way for the squaws, and the scalp dance began.
This dance is exclusively performed by women, and in this affair alone the men make way for them. This dance, which is regarded as sacred by the untamed Indian nations, only takes place under grand circumstances—at the beginning of an expedition, or at its close, when it has been successful—that is to say, when the warriors bring back many scalps and horses, and have suffered no loss themselves. The women display an excitement in this dance which speedily degenerates into a frenzy, which fills the minds of the warriors with martial ardour. When this dance was ended, and the squaws had ceased their insensate cries and gestures, the final ceremony was proceeded with. This ceremony, of which we only find vestiges among a few tribes of the Upper Missouri, and the Aucas, or Pampas Indians, seems peculiar to the Papazos. It consists in sacrificing a brood mare, which has not yet foaled, and reading the future in its entrails.
We can easily understand that the sorcerer who undertakes the explanation says what He pleases, and must be believed through the impossibility of contradicting his statements. On this occasion, either because he wished to share in the general joy, or that, through deceiving others, he had succeeded in deceiving himself, and putting faith in his own falsehoods, he announced to the attentive warriors the most splendid and successful results for the coming expedition. These prophecies were greeted as they deserved to be—that is to say, with the greatest favour—and, according to custom, the body of the mare was given to the sorcerer; and this was, doubtless, the greatest profit he derived from the whole affair.
Then, when all the rites were performed, the order was given for each warrior to prepare his horses, his weapons, and his provisions, for the expedition might set out at any moment. The Papazos chiefs had succeeded in collecting beneath their totems 30,000 warriors, all mounted on excellent horses, and about 4000 armed with guns. It is true that the Indians, though so skilful in the use of the axe, the lance, and the bow, are deplorable marksmen, and have an instinctive dread of firearms, which prevents their taking a proper aim. Still, some of them succeed in attaining a relative skill, and are dangerous in a fight. But the greatest strength of the Indian army consisted of the sixty or eighty white and half-breed hunters, whom the hope of plunder had induced to join them.
Thunderbolt, while retaining the supreme command of the army, appointed three chiefs as generals of division; they were Sparrowhawk, Whistler, and Peccary. Stronghand took the command of twenty-five white hunters, whom he selected among the bravest and most honourable, and was entrusted with a special mission by his father. All being then in readiness to begin the war, the Indians, according to their invariable custom, only awaited a moonless night to invade the territory of their enemies under cover of the darkness.