We found ourselves wondering to what race the hidden dead belonged, and whether the unpictured maidens of those days were pleasant to look upon, or true ancestors of the hideous and unromantic creatures who, with their savage lords, now roam the plains. Thinking of the tribes of the past brought those of the present to mind, and, not wishing to have our hair presented as tribute to some maiden wooed by treacherous Cheyenne, we turned our horses' heads homeward, bringing the beads with us, safely deposited in one of our entomologist's pocket-cases. They remain among the trophies of our expedition, and Mr. Colon has lately written me that he will have an excavation made, during the present year, at the spot where they were found.
These beads, I can not but think, form one link in a chain connecting an ancient people, perhaps the mound-builders, with the savage tribes of the present. There is a tradition among some of the Western Indians that, centuries ago, a people, different in language and form from the red men, came from over the seas to trade beads for ponies. The buffaloes were then larger, and the climate warmer, than now. Dissensions finally arose, in which the strangers were killed. Is there not reason to believe that this tradition gives us a glimpse of the time when some of the large mammals still existed on the plains, and the genial sun looked down upon pastures clothed in rich vegetation—a time and region, probably, of perennial summer?
Once, during our stay in Kansas, we were directed by a hunter to a spot where he had seen portions of an immense skeleton, and there found one vertebra only remaining of a mastodon. It afterward transpired that, shortly before our trip, some Indians had passed Fort Dodge with the large bones lashed on their ponies, taking them to a medicine-lodge on the Arkansas, to be ground up into good medicine. They stated that the bones belonged to one of the big buffaloes which roamed over the plains during the times of their fathers. At that period, the Happy Hunting Ground was on earth, but was afterward removed beyond the clouds by the Great Spirit, to punish his children for bad conduct.
Many reasons, besides dim traditions, exist for the belief that those mysterious nations whose paths we have been able to trace from the Atlantic west, and from the Pacific east, pushed inward until they met in the middle of the continent. The numerous mounds in the Western States, with the curious weapons and vessels which they contain, show that the nations then existing, and migrating toward the interior, were not only powerful but essentially unlike our modern Indians. To instance but one illustration of this, there are near Titusville, Pa., ancient oil wells, which bear unmistakable evidences of having been dug and worked by the mound-builders. Thus they speculated in oil, which of itself is a token of high civilization.
Coming east from the Pacific coast, we find existing on the very edge of the desolate interior extensive ruins of ancient cities, of whose builders even tradition gives no account. By these and other remains which the gnawing tooth of Time has still spared to us, the people of those days tell us that they were full of commercial energy; and who knows but they may have been as determined as our nation has ever been, to push trade across from ocean to ocean? It is highly probable also that the Indians of the interior were then far superior to the present tribes, as seems very fairly determined by many of the traditions and customs which obtain among the latter.
In view of the foregoing considerations, it is not remarkable that the beads, denoting, as they did, a place and manner of burial unlike that of the savages of the plains, interested us so much. It was a leaf, we could not but think, from the lost history of the mound-builders.
A noticeable feature of life on the plains is the sod-house, there called an adobe, from some resemblance to the Mexican structures of sun-dried brick. The walls of these primitive habitations are composed of squares of buffalo-grass sod, laid tier upon tier, roots uppermost. A few poles give support for a roof, and on these some hay or small brush is laid. Then comes a foot of earth, and the covering is complete. When well-constructed, these houses are water-proof, very warm in winter, and cool in summer; but when the eaves have been made too short to protect the walls, the latter are liable to dissolve under a heavy shower. During a sudden rain at Sheridan, being obliged to turn out early one morning to protect some goods, we discovered that the neighboring habitation had resolved itself into a mound of dirt, resembling somewhat a tropical ant-hill. We were still gazing at the ruins, when the owner, clad in the brief garment of night-wear, came spluttering through the roof, like a very dirty gnome discharged by a mud-volcano. While he stood there in the rain, letting the falling flood cleanse him off, he remarked, in a manner that for such an occasion was certainly rather dry—"Lucky that houses are dirt-cheap here, stranger, for I reckon this one 's sort o' washed!"
A person of small capital, as may readily be inferred, can live very comfortably on the plains. His house may be built without nail or board, and his meat may be obtained at no other expense than the trouble of shooting it.
We saw many wooden buildings at the different stage stations, which had subterranean communications with little sod watch-towers, rising a couple of feet above the ground, at a distance of forty or fifty yards from the main building. Loop-holes through their walls afforded opportunities for firing, and if the wooden stations were burned, the occupants could find a secure retreat. We heard of but one occasion in which the tower was ever used, but then it was most effectively, the savages, gathered close around the main building, being surprised and put to sudden flight, by the murderous fire which seemed to spring out of the ground at their rear.