Among the Mandans every man is obliged by law to have a buffalo mask, i. e. the skin of the head, with the horns added to it. Usually to the head is added a strip of skin some four or five inches wide, extending along the whole length of the animal, and including the tail. When the wearer puts on his mask, the strip of skin extends down his back, and the tufted tail drags on the ground behind him.
I have worn one of these strange masks, and found it much less inconvenient than might have been supposed. It is not nearly so cumbrous as the chief’s dress of state, described on [page 1276]. The buffalo mask is kept by each man at the head of his bed, a circumstance which gives a strange wildness to the interior of the hut, or lodge, as it is called, especially if several young warriors sleep in the same lodge.
As soon as the mandate for the buffalo dance is given, the men repair to their lodges and bring out their masks, together with the weapons which they are accustomed to use in the hunt. Ten or fifteen of them arrange themselves in a circle, while the medicine men seat themselves on the ground, beating their sacred drums and shaking their rattles to a rhythmical sort of movement which guides the steps of the dancers.
These move continually in a circle, stamping, yelping, grunting, bellowing, and imitating in various ways the movements of the bison. The dance goes on day and night without cessation, and as it never ceases until bisons are seen, the reader will understand that it is absolutely effective in bringing them. A spirited [sketch] of such a dance is given on the following page.
The mode in which it is kept up is rather amusing. The medicine men who beat the drums and encourage the dancers are relieved from time to time by their companions. But for the dancers there is supposed to be no relief but death. This difficulty, however, is surmounted by a sort of legal fiction. When one of the performers has yelped, stamped, bellowed, and leaped until he can dance no longer, he stoops down and places his hands on the ground. Another dancer, who is armed with a very weak bow and arrows with large blunt heads, fits an arrow to his bow, and shoots him. The wounded dancer falls to the ground, and is seized by the bystanders, who drag him out of the ring, go through the movements of skinning him and cutting him up, when he is allowed to retire and rest from his labors. As soon as he is dragged out of the ring, another dancer leaps into his place, and in this way the dance may go on for weeks without cessation.
Meanwhile scouts are posted on all the hills within range, and as soon as one of them sees the bisons, he gives the signal by tossing his rope in the air in the direction of the game. Mr. Catlin relates a remarkable instance of the buffalo dance and its sequel.
Game had been scarce, the dance had been going on for days, and the village was in a state of increasing distress, when the welcome signal was seen from the hills. The dance ceased, the young men flew to their arms, sprang on their horses, and dashed off into the prairie toward the signal.
“In the village, where hunger reigned and starvation was almost ready to look them in the face, all was instantly turned to joy and gladness. The chief and doctors, who had been for seven days dealing out minimum rations to the community from the public crib, now spread before their subjects the contents of their own private caches (i. e. hidden stores), and the last of everything that could be mustered, that they might eat a thanksgiving to the Great Spirit for His goodness in sending them a supply of buffalo meat.
“A general carouse of banqueting ensued, which occupied the greater part of the day, and their hidden stores, which might have fed them on an emergency for several weeks, were pretty nearly used up on the occasion. Bones were half picked, dishes half emptied, and then handed to the dogs. I was not forgotten in the general surfeit. Several large and generous wooden bowls of pemmican and other palatable food were sent to my painting room, and I received them in this time of scarcity with great pleasure.”
When the feast was over, songs and dances set in, and the whole village was filled with sounds of revelry. Suddenly, in the midst of their mirth, two or three of the hunters dashed in among the feasters, one having in his hands a still bleeding scalp, another sitting wounded on his horse, whose white coat was crimsoned with the fast-flowing blood of the rider, while another was, though unwounded, totally unarmed, having flung away his weapons in the hurry of flight.