But they would not then converse on the subject. In fact, the interpreter inquired, "Are we not at war? How, then, can we go to see the Capitan Grande?" We knew they believed themselves at war with Mexico and Texas, and probably had mistaken us for Texans.... Upon this we explained to them that the United States was a distinct government and at peace with the Comanche. On this explanation the chiefs said they were glad to see Americans in their country and hoped more of them would come (Gregg, 3).
SUMMER 1833
Ĭmk`ódaltä-dé Pai, "Summer that they cut off their heads." This picture commemorates one of the most vivid memories of the older men of the tribe—a wholesale massacre by the Osage, who cut off the heads of their victims and deposited them in buckets upon the scene of the slaughter. Set-t'an, the author of the calendar, was born in this summer. The picture of a severed head with bloody neck and a bloody knife underneath is sufficiently suggestive. The absence of the usual figure of the sun-dance lodge shows that no dance was held this summer, owing to the fact that the Osage captured the taime medicine at the same time. The massacre occurred just west of a mountain called by the Kiowa K`ódaltä K`op, "Beheading mountain," on the headwaters of Otter creek, not 2 miles northwest from Saddle mountain and about 25 miles northwest from Fort Sill.
It was in early spring and the Kiowa were camped at the mouth of Rainy-mountain creek, a southern tributary of the Washita, within the present limits of the reservation; nearly all the warriors had gone against the Ute, so that few, excepting women, children, and old men, were at home. One morning some young men going out to look for horses discovered signs of Osage and immediately gave the alarm. According to one story, they found a buffalo with an Osage arrow sticking in it; according to T'ébodal and other old men, they came upon the Osage themselves and exchanged shots, wounding an Osage, but with the loss of one of their own men killed. On the alarm being given, the Kiowa at once broke camp in a panic and fled in four parties in different directions—one party toward the west, another toward the east, and two other bands, among whom was T'ébodal, then a boy, went directly south toward the Comanche. Three of these escaped, but the fourth, under A`dáte, "Island-man," thinking the pursuit was over, stopped on a small tributary of Otter creek, just west of the mountain.
Fig. 63—Summer 1833—They cut off their heads.
Early in the morning, almost before it was yet light, a young man (whose grandson was present during T'ébodal's narration) went to look for his ponies, when he saw the Osage creeping up on foot. He hastily ran back with the news, but all the camp was still sleeping, except the wife A`dáte, who was outside preparing to scrape a hide. Entering the tipi, he roused the chief, who ran out shouting to his people, "Tsó bätsó! Tsó bätsó!"—To the rocks! To the rocks! Thus rudely awakened, the Kiowa sprang up and fled to the mountain, the mothers seizing their children and the old men hurrying as best they could, with their bloodthirsty enemies close behind. The chief himself was pursued and slightly wounded, but got away; his wife, Sémätmä, "Apache-woman," was taken, but soon afterward made her escape. One woman fled with a baby girl on her back and dragging a larger girl by the hand; an Osage pursuing caught the older girl and was drawing his knife across her throat when the mother rushed to her aid and succeeded in beating him off and rescued the child with only a slight gash upon her head. A boy named Äyä, "Sitting-on-a-tree" (?), was saved by his father in about the same way, and is still alive, an old man, to tell it. His father, it is said, seized and held him in his teeth, putting him down while shooting arrows to keep off the pursuers, and taking him up again to run. A party of women was saved by a brave Pawnee living in the camp, who succeeded in fighting off the pursuers long enough to enable the women to reach a place of safety.
The warriors-being absent, the Kiowa made no attempt at a stand; it was simply a surprise and flight of panic-stricken, women, children, and old men, in which everyone caught was butchered on the spot. Two children were taken prisoners, a brother and sister—about 10 and 12 years of age, respectively—of whom more hereafter. The Kiowa lost five men killed and a large number of women and children; none of the Osage were killed, as no fight was made. When the massacre was ended, the enemy cut the heads from all the dead bodies, without scalping them, and placed them in brass buckets, one head in each bucket, all over the camp ground, after which they set fire to the tipis and left the place. When the scattered Kiowa returned to look for their friends, they found the camp destroyed, the decapitated bodies lying where they had fallen, and the heads in the buckets as the Osage had left them. The buckets had been obtained by the Kiowa from the Pawnee, who procured them on the Missouri and traded them to the southern tribes. For allowing the camp to be thus surprised the chief, A`dáte, was deposed, and was superseded by Dohá, or Doháte, "Bluff," better known as Dohásän, who thenceforth ruled the tribe until his death, thirty-three years later.
Among the victims of the massacre was a Kiowa chief who had been present the previous winter at the attack on the American traders. His friends buried with him a quantity of silver dollars which had formed his share of the spoil on that occasion. An old woman, the last remaining person who knew the place of sepulture, died a few years ago.
In this affair the Osage also captured the taíme medicine, already described, killing the wife of the taíme keeper as she was trying to unfasten it from the tipi pole to which it was tied; her husband, Ansó te, escaped. In consequence of this loss, there was no sun dance for two years, when, peace having been made between the two tribes, as will be related farther on, the Kiowa visited the Osage camp, somewhere on the Cimarron or the Salt fork of the Arkansas, and recovered it, afterward giving a horse in return for it. Dohásän, who conducted the negotiations, asked the Osage about it and offered a pinto pony and several other ponies for it. The Osage said that they had it, and went home and brought it, but in token of their friendship refused to accept more than a single pony in return. On this occasion both taíme images were captured, together with the case in which they were kept.