The Indian tribes judging from their musical instruments, have little taste or skill in music. These are very rude, and consist of rattles, drums, the mystery whistle, war whistle and deer skin flute. The war whistle is from six to nine inches in length, made of the bone of the deer’s or turkey’s leg, with porcupine quills wound around it. The chief wears this to battle under his dress. It has only two notes—one, produced by blowing into one end of it, is shrill, and is the summons to battle; and the other sounds a retreat. Even in the noise of battle and amid the cries and yells of their fierce conflicts, this little instrument can be distinctly heard.
The chief pledge of friendship among these tribes, is a dog feast. If we consider that the dog is an object of special affection with the Indians; that he is more valued by them than anywhere else on the globe;—we can understand the significance of this feast. This sacrifice of what is dearest to them is therefore the very strongest evidence of friendship. On their coats of arms, on the rocks, they carve the image of the dog, and everywhere and always, he is the emblem of fidelity. Accordingly, to ratify friendship, to give the most unquestionable proof of honor and devotion, the Indian will take his beloved companion of the chase and wigwam, and offer it as the sacrifice to hospitality and affection.
These feasts are conducted in the most solemn and impressive manner, as if with the conviction that the pledge of friendship is a sacred thing. Those were tender words which Catlin gives at the conclusion of an Indian chief’s address to him and other white guests, to whom such a feast had been given: “we offer you to-day not the best we have got, for we have plenty of good buffalo hump and marrow—but we give you our hearts in this feast—we have killed our faithful dogs to feed you, and the Great Spirit will seal our friendship. I have no more to say.”
We come now to consider the customs of the Indians in regard to death and the disposal of the dead.
The Mandans take the body of the deceased, clothe it in his best robes and ornaments, furnish it with food, pipes, tobacco, and arrows, and wrap it up in skins previously soaked in water, so as to render them pliant, and cause them to exclude the air as much as possible. The body is then placed upon a slight scaffold, some seven feet in height, and left to decay. In process of time, the scaffold gives way and falls, when the relations of the deceased bury the whole of the remains, with the exception of the skull, which they place on the ground, forming circles of a hundred or more, all with the faces looking inward, and all resting on fresh bunches of herbs. In the centre of each circle is a little mound, on which are placed the skulls of a male and female bison, and on the mound is planted a long pole, on which hang sundry “medicine” articles, which are supposed to aid in guarding the remains of the dead.
No people are more fond of swimming than the Indians, the youth of both sexes learning the art at a very early age. Such knowledge is indispensable to them, especially liable as they are to accidents with their light canoes, and in their marches compelled to cross the widest rivers. The squaws will fasten their children to their backs, and easily cross any river that lies in their way.
The Indian mode of swimming, however, is quite different from ours. They do not make a horizontal stroke outward from the chin, but throw the body alternately from one side to the other, and raising one arm out of the water, reach as far forward as possible, while the other arm having made the same motion, goes down and becomes a propelling power. And this, though an apparently awkward, is yet a most effective mode of swimming, and less likely to be attended with injury to the chest, or with fatigue.
The relatives constantly visit the skull circles, and the women may often be seen sitting by the skulls of their dead children for hours together, going on with their work, and talking to the dead skull as if it were a living child. And, when tired, they will lie down with their arms encircling the skull, and sleep there as if in company with the child itself. The Sioux and many other tribes lodge their dead in the branches or crotches of trees, enveloped in skins, and always with a wooden dish hanging near the head of the corpse, for the purpose, doubtless, to enable it to quench its thirst on the long journey they suppose awaits it after death. The Chinnooks place them in canoes, which, together with the warrior’s utensils accompanying the dead, are so shattered as to be useless.
The most singular funeral of which a record has been preserved was that of Blackbird, an Omaha chief. The artist has reproduced the [strange scene] on page 1341.
Upon the bank of the Missouri, and in the district over which he ruled, there is a lofty bluff, the top of which can be seen for a vast distance on every side. When the chief found that he was dying, he ordered that he should be placed on the back of his favorite war horse, and buried on the top of the bluff.