“We-lo-lon-nan-nai will not die; he shall live long enough to rule over the Ute Nation; but he is very sick. He must be carried to a spot which will be designated by the Great Spirit, where he will cause a Big Medicine to appear out of the ground. It will not only cure the chief of the Utes this time, but it is for the sick and wounded of the nations for all time to come. To-morrow, at sunrise, We-lo-lon-nan-nai must be escorted by a hundred warriors to where the Big Medicine is to appear, guided by the flight of an arrow to be shot from the bow of the youngest medicine-man in the tribe as often as the end of its flight is reached. Day after day shall he shoot, until the arrow stands up in the earth, where is the place the Big Medicine is to be found, when We-lo-lon-nan-nai smokes the red-stone peace-pipe of the tribe.”
Arriving at the great cañon, where the arrow stood upright in the earth, and where only a cold stream of water flowed through its bottom, We-lo-lon-nan-nai sat himself down under the rocky ledge at the entrance to the mighty gap in the range, and, lighting his pipe, directed the smoke of the fragrant kin-nik-i-nik toward the heavens. Suddenly there was a terrible convulsion of the earth, and immediately there burst forth fountains of hot water and mud mounds, where before there was not the sign of a spring.
Astonished at this manifestation, We-lo-lon-nan-nai offered up a silent prayer, and, divesting himself of his robe, told his followers to bury him in the hot mud up to his head. They complied with his orders, and he remained in the excavation, which was made large enough to receive his entire body, for a whole day; and when taken out at night all his pains were gone, and he seemed to his warriors to have recovered his youth. Many of them who were suffering with different ailments then tried the efficacy of the hot water and the mud, and were from that instant cured.
The report of the miraculous healing of the Ute chief soon spread among the neighbouring tribes, and the sick from everywhere came flocking to the Big Medicine Springs, which they continued to use until the white man took possession of the country, and the Indians have ever since been lessening gradually in number, until there are now but few left, because deprived of their Big Medicine.
We-lo-lon-nan-nai ruled over the Utes for many years after his restoration to health; in fact, never died, but was carried on the wings of an immense bird, which was supposed by the wandering warriors to be a messenger of the Great Spirit, right to the abode of the blessed. His name is revered to this day, and the young men are encouraged to emulate his virtues, the story of which has come down through untold æons.[59]
To the uninitiated reader, it may, perhaps, be interesting to know the meaning of the somewhat strange Indian cognomens.
The majority of savages receive their names from some peculiarity of person, costume, or from bodily deformity. Ba-oo-kish, or Closed Hand, a noted Crow chief, was thus named from the fact that when young his hand was so badly burned as to cause his fingers to close within the palm, and grow fast. White Forehead, because he always wore a white band around his head to conceal the scar of a wound which had been inflicted by a squaw. Mock-pe-lu-tah, Red Cloud or Bloody Hand, one of the most terrible warriors of the Sioux Nation, derived his name from his deeds of blood, and the red blankets which his braves invariably wore. They “never moved on their enemies without appearing as a cloud, so great were their numbers. Sweeping down with his hosts on the border, he covered the hills like a red cloud in the heavens, and never returned to his village until he had almost exterminated the tribe or settlement against which his wrath was directed.” Ta-shunk-ah-ko-ke-pah-pe, Man afraid of his Horses, obtained his name from having captured a great many horses at one time, which he was constantly afraid he would lose. Once, when the Shoshones attacked his camp, he left his family in the hands of the enemy, to run off his horses. No Knife, a noted man of the Omahas, was named from an incident that occurred at the time of his birth. He was born on the march, and was ever after known by his singular appellation. Ta-ton-ka-ig-oton-ka, Sitting Bull, the most vindictive and determined enemy the whites ever had, was so named because once, after having shot a buffalo, he leaped from his horse astride of the animal to skin it, when with the Indian upon him the wounded bull sat up on his haunches. The celebrated Sioux chief, Sin-ta-gal-las-ca, Spotted Tail, when young always wore a coon tail in his hair, hence his name. Connected with the history of this famous warrior, there is a pathetic episode, which shows the better side of Indian character.
Spotted Tail had a daughter, who was very beautiful according to the savage idea. She fell in love with an army officer stationed at Fort Laramie. He did not reciprocate her passion, and plainly told the dusky maiden he could never marry her. The poor girl visited the fort every day, and would sit for hours on the porch on her beloved's quarters until he came out, and then she would quietly follow him about with the fidelity of a dog. She seemed to ask no greater pleasure than to look at him, be near him, and was ever miserable when out of his sight.
Spotted Tail, who was cognizant of his daughter's affection for the young army officer, remonstrated with her in vain, and when he found he could not conquer her foolish passion, sent her away to a remote band of his tribe. She obediently went without murmuring, but, arrived at her destination, she refused food, and actually pined away until she became a mere skeleton. Spotted Tail was sent for, to see her die. He hastened to her bed of robes and found her almost gone. With the little strength she had left, she told her father of her great love for the whites, and made him promise that he would ever after her death live at peace with them. Then she appeared to be very happy, and closing her eyes said, “This is my last request, bury me at Fort Laramie,” then died. The old chief carried her body to the fort, and interred it with the whites, where she wished to live.
The grave of the unfortunate maiden had been carefully marked, and as long as the fort was garrisoned it continued to be an object of great interest.