The notice in Villaseñor would indicate that they were able to mount some of their warriors as early as 1748, as it is hardly probable that they would have been able to attract attention by their inroads so far south as the Spanish settlements if their warriors had been obliged to travel entirely on foot. With some tribes, however, notably the Pawnee, it was a frequent practice for the warriors to go out on foot, returning, if successful, mounted on the horses taken from their enemies. Horses must also have been taken by the Kiowa from the Comanche, who lived south of them in the territory adjoining the Spanish possessions, and with whom the Kiowa were then at war. In the beginning of the present century we find the Kiowa mentioned as possessing large herds of horses, which they traded with the Arikara and Mandan for European goods.
Horace Jones, interpreter at Fort Sill, states that at a council held at Fort Cobb in 1868, Ten-bears, an old Comanche chief, scorned the Kiowa for their constant raids into Mexico and Texas in spite of their promises to the government to cease such practices, saying to the assembled Kiowa, "When we first knew you, you had nothing but dogs and sleds. Now you have plenty of horses, and where did you get them if they were not stolen from Mexico?" This must be interpreted, however, from a point of comparison of the Comanche, who have long been noted for the number of their ponies. It was certainly a case of the pot calling the kettle black, as the principal business of both tribes for generations, until confined to a reservation, was that of raiding their southern neighbors in order to obtain horses and captives. It is unnecessary to dilate on the revolution made in the life of the Indian by the possession of the horse. Without it he was a half-starved skulker in the timber, creeping up on foot toward the unwary deer or building a brush corral with infinite labor to surround a herd of antelope, and seldom venturing more than a few days' journey from home. With the horse he was transformed into the daring buffalo hunter, able to procure in a single day enough food to supply his family for a year, leaving him free then to sweep the plains with his war parties along a range of a thousand miles.
INTERCOURSE AND WAR WITH THE COMANCHE
While the Kiowa still occupied the Black Hills their nearest neighbors toward the south were the Comanche, whose language and traditions show them to be a comparatively recent offshoot from the Shoshoni of Wyoming, and whose war parties formerly ranged from Platte river to central Mexico. In 1724 Bourgmont describes them, under the name of Padouca, as located between the headwaters of Platte and Kansas rivers. Like the other prairie tribes, they drifted steadily southward, and about the middle of last century were established chiefly about the upper Arkansas and its principal tributaries. Long before this time, however, the Pénätĕka division had separated from the main body and gone down into Texas. Pádouca, the name used by Bourgmont, is one form of the name by which the Comanche are known to the Osage, Dakota, and related tribes, and is probably derived from Pénätĕka.
As the Kiowa pressed southward before the advancing Dakota and Cheyenne, they encountered the Comanche, resulting in a warfare continuing many years, in the course of which the Comanche were gradually driven south of the Arkansas. The war was finally terminated and a lasting peace and alliance effected between the two tribes through the good offices of the Spaniards of New Mexico.
PEACE WITH THE COMANCHE
Now the Kiowa tradition becomes clear and detailed. According to the story which the old men had from their fathers, who were contemporary with the events, the Kiowa advanced along the base of the mountains and pushed the Comanche from the northern head streams of the Arkansas. When both sides were about worn out with fighting, it happened that a small party of Kiowa on a friendly visit to a Spanish settlement southwestward from that river—perhaps Las Vegas or possibly Santa Fé—stopped to rest at a house, which they particularly state was not a fort or trading post. The house was a large one with several rooms, and by a curious coincidence a party of Comanche had arrived shortly before and were then talking in the next room, all unaware of the near presence of their enemies. Hearing the voices and recognizing the language, the Kiowa at once prepared for battle, and another bloody encounter was about to be added to the long list, when their Mexican host, friendly to both sides, interposed and represented to the Kiowa that now was their opportunity to establish a lasting peace with their foes, offering his own services as mediator. After some debate the Kiowa accepted his proposition, and the kindly Mexican, going into the next room, informed the astonished Comanche that a party of their hated enemies was outside waiting to talk of peace. Being assured that no treachery was intended, they came out and the leaders of the two parties saluted each other. The Kiowa leader, whose name was Guik`áte, "Wolf-lying-down," and who was next in authority to the principal chief of the tribe, assuming to speak for his people, then expressed their desire for peace. To this the Comanche leader, Päréiyä, "Afraid-of-water" (Toñpeto in the Kiowa language), replied that as this was a matter of grave importance, it would have to be considered by the whole tribe, and invited the Kiowa to go back with them to the Comanche country in order that the business might there be fully discussed. The Kiowa hesitated, not yet being quite willing to trust themselves in the lion's den, when Guik`áte, anxious to spare further bloodshed, said, "I am a chief. I am not afraid to die. I will go." A Comanche captive among the Kiowa volunteered to go with him. Turning then to his followers, he said to them, "Go home and tell our tribe that I am gone to make peace with the Comanche. Return for me to this place when the leaves are yellow. If you do not find me here, know that I am dead and avenge my death." He then dismissed them, and the Kiowa started homeward, while he, with the captive and one or two Mexicans accompanied the Comanche to their camps on Gañta P'a, the Double-mountain fork of the Brazos, in Texas.
On arriving there with his escort, the Comanche were at first disposed to regard him as an enemy and made a show of preparing to revenge upon him the losses they had suffered at the hands of his people, but finding that he was a brave man not to be easily frightened, they changed their purpose and gave him a friendly welcome. He remained with them all summer, being well entertained by them on the hunt and at their social gatherings, and when at last the leaves began to turn, the tipis were taken down, and the whole band, having long ago decided on peace, moved off to meet the Kiowa at the appointed rendezvous. They had not long to wait, for Indians observe the season changes closely, before the whole warrior body of the Kiowa tribe appeared in sight, prepared either to make a treaty of perpetual friendship or to avenge the death of their chief, as the case might be. As they approached, the Comanche chief and Guik`áte rode out to meet them, somewhat to the surprise of the Kiowa, who had hardly hoped ever again to see their kinsman alive. He told the story of his kind treatment at the hands of the Comanche and their earnest desire for peace, and the result was a treaty of friendship and alliance which endures to this day, the two tribes, with the Kiowa-Apache, having ever since occupied a common territory and acted together on all important occasions, notwithstanding radical differences in language, ceremonies, and temperament. The former condition of hostility is clearly shown by the fact that the common name of the Kiowa for their present allies, the Comanche, is Gyái'ko, "Enemies."
This treaty with the Comanche must have been made toward the close of the last century, probably about 1790. As there is no tally date in Kiowa history until we come to "the year when the stars fell," i. e., 1833, a description of the manner in which we arrive at this conclusion may be of interest as a specimen of the ordinary methods of Indian chronology.
Among the oldest men of the tribe are T'ébodal, "One who carries a buffalo's lower leg, "Gaápiatañ, "Feathered lance," (commonly known as Heidsick, from his Comanche name of Haí-tsiki), and ´dalpepte, "Bushy-hair" (Frizzle-head), all being prominent men and noted warriors when in their prime. T'ébodal is the oldest man in the tribe, and as he was "a well grown boy when the stars fell," is consequently now just about 80 years of age, as the Indians consider a boy a young warrior at 17 or 18. Gaápiatañ is a few years younger, and ´dalpepte was "old enough, to ride a horse when the stars fell," so that we may assume him to be now (1896) about 70 years of age. It will be noted that, contrary to general opinion, Indians are not remarkably long-lived.