The epidemic broke out early in spring and continued through the summer; it began in the Kiowa school, and its terribly fatal consequences were due largely to the course pursued by the superintendent, who insisted on sending the sick children back to the camp, where it was impossible for them to receive necessary attention, instead of caring for them in the school. The result was that the infection spread throughout the Kiowa and Apache tribes, and as the Indians, in their ignorance, endeavored to wash out the blotches by drenching the children in cold water, nearly every case was fatal. Watching and anxiety brought fevers and other sickness to the parents, so that there was not a family in the two tribes that did not suffer the loss of a near relative. The feeling already existing among the Kiowa against the superintendent, on account of the death of the schoolboys the year before, was now so intensified that he was obliged to leave the country.

When the author returned to the Kiowa in the early summer of that year, the epidemic had nearly spent its force, although deaths were still occurring every day or two. The condition of the Indians was pitiable in the extreme; nearly every woman in the tribe had her hair cut off close to her head and her face and arms deeply gashed by knives, in token of mourning, while some had even chopped off a finger as a sign of grief at the loss of a favorite child. The men also had their hair cut off at the shoulders and had discarded their usual ornaments and finery. On one occasion, while driving near the camp, the author's attention was attracted by a low wail, and on looking for the cause he saw, sitting in the tall grass near the roadside, a bereaved father stripped to the breech-cloth, with his hair cropped close to the head and the blood dripping from gashes which covered his naked body; he did not look up or turn his head as the wagon passed, but continued the low wail, with his eyes cast to the ground. Wagons, harness, tipis, blankets, and other property were burned, and horses and dogs shot over the graves of their owners, to accompany them to the world of shades, the destruction of property in this way amounting to thousands of dollars. Every night and morning the women went into the hills to wail for their lost ones, and returned to camp with the blood dripping from fresh gashes in their faces and arms; this continued for weeks and months, far into the fall.

The responsibility for this terrible calamity rests upon the school superintendent, who sent the infected children into camp, and upon the agent who permitted it. The superintendent of the Comanche school, so soon as the disease appeared on the reservation, suspended teaching, turned the school into a temporary hospital, with the teachers as nurses, and stationed a guard of police to keep the parent from interfering with or withdrawing the children. The result was that not one died in his school and only one was affected. The census of the Kiowa and Apache tribes for this year shows a decrease from the preceding year of two hundred and twenty-one, or 15 per cent, among the two tribes, due almost entirely to this epidemic. The agent reports, after noting the mortality:

The above deaths occurred chiefly among the infants and young children, and can be attributed to the fact that in most every case they invariably immersed their sick in the water, thereby causing death in every case thus treated (Report, 115).

Dr J. D. Glennan, attending surgeon to the Indian troop at Fort Sill, had already distinguished himself at Wounded Knee two years before by his bravery and coolness in attending to the needs of the wounded and dying while bullets were flying thick around him. Now, when the epidemic broke out among the Kiowa, he gave his services with the same quiet devotion to duty, with such good result that, although for months the hospital camp was crowded with stricken Indians, whose relatives outside were dying all over the reservation, only six of those under his care died, and these not from the prevailing epidemic, but from a complication of diseases. In recognition of his services the Kiowa soldiers afterward raised a sum of money with which to purchase a horse for him, but as the doctor already had a horse, the testimonial took the form of a valuable piece of silver.

The Anko calendar has also a row of circles, representing dollars, to indicate a large payment of grass money by the cattlemen this summer. As by this time the Indians had learned that the leasing of their surplus grass lands was very much to their advantage, they held a council in February, 1892, to select delegates to go to Washington for the purpose of negotiating leases for the whole reservation; also to secure some back payments due from previous leases. Quanah, Lone-wolf, and White-man were chosen on behalf of the Comanche, Kiowa, and Apache, respectively, and proceeded to Washington, where they received the desired permission, under which authority leases were negotiated producing for the three tribes an average income of about $100,000. On their return they received through a special agent nearly $70,000 due under the new and old leases. This large payment gave occasion for general rejoicing and marked an era in their history. A large part of the money was invested in lumber for building permanent houses; so that in this way, and with the additional help of a small appropriation for the hire of carpenters, the agent reports about sixty houses built within the year, and says:

With the assistance of the Indian Office as to the pay of carpenters, together with the revenues from their grass leases, I see no reason why in the near future the tepee should not be banished and comfortable houses he substituted in their stead (Report, 116).


Here end the yearly calendars. The subsequent events, including the unratified treaty negotiations and the present condition of the tribes, will be found noted in the preliminary tribal sketch.