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- Herausgeber: Arcadia Press
- Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
"This book deals with the wars of the Cheyennes. A fighting and a fearless people.
When their struggles with the white men began, some of their older and wiser men strove earnestly to preserve peace, but their efforts failed. During these first wars between the whites and the Cheyennes, the United States Government was struggling for its very life. Its attention was concentrated on the war between the North and the South, and the movements of a few Indians on the thinly settled frontier attracted little notice. As more and more people pushed into the West, there was more and more fighting with Indians, until in 1878-9 it ceased — so far as the Cheyennes were concerned.
Since the Indians could not write, the history of their wars has been set down by their enemies, and the story has been told always from the hostile point of view. White writers have lauded white courage and claimed white successes. If it has been necessary to confess defeat, they have abused those who overcame them, as the defeated always abuse the victors.
Evidently there is another side to this history, and this other side is one which should be recorded; and, since the wars are now distant in time, the Indians’ own descriptions of these battles may be read without much prejudice. I have tried to present the accounts by whites and Indians, without comment."
G.B.G.
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George Bird Grinnell
THE FIGHTING CHEYENNES
Copyright © George Bird Grinnell
The Fighting Cheyennes
(1915)
Arcadia Press 2019
www.arcadiapress.eu
Storewww.arcadiaebookstore.eu
TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE FIGHTING CHEYENNES
PREFACE
This book deals with the wars of the Cheyennes, A fighting and a fearless people, the tribe was almost constantly at war with its neighbors, but until 1856 was friendly to the whites.
The Cheyennes fought well, but they will fight no more. Their wars have long been over. Their tribal wanderings ceased before 1880. Since then they have been confined on two reservations, one in Oklahoma, the other in Montana.
When their struggles with the white men began, some of their older and wiser men strove earnestly to preserve peace, but their efforts failed. In an Indian camp individual liberty is the law, and the Cheyennes were a proud, headstrong, and obstinate people.
During these first wars between the whites and the Cheyennes, the United States Government was struggling for its very life. Its attention was concentrated on the war between the North and the South, and the movements of a few Indians on the thinly settled frontier attracted little notice. The so-called Sand Creek Massacre took place toward the close of the Civil War, and the ensuing interference with trans-Missouri travel led to an inquiry by Congress. The published results of this inquiry first made this tribe known to the general public. As more and more people pushed into the West, there was more and more fighting with Indians, until in 1878-9 it ceased — so far as the Cheyennes were concerned.
For many years the government of the Indians by the United States was carried on in haphazard and often dishonest fashion by officials alike ignorant and careless of the customs and ways of thought of the savages with whom they were dealing. The killing of a large number of men, women, and children at Fort Robinson in January, 1879, was the direct result of such unfortunate ignorance.
Since the Indians could not write, the history of their wars has been set down by their enemies, and the story has been told always from the hostile point of view. White writers have lauded white courage and claimed white successes. If it has been necessary to confess defeat, they have abused those who overcame them, as the defeated always abuse the victors.
Evidently there is another side to this history, and this other side is one which should be recorded; and, since the wars are now distant in time, the Indians’ own descriptions of these battles may be read without much prejudice. I have tried to present the accounts by whites and Indians, without comment.
I acknowledge with cordial thanks help received from friends who took part in the later Cheyenne wars, and who have commented on and criticised the chapters dealing with the battles in which they fought. These accounts are thus in fact narratives by eye-witnesses. Such assistance has been given me by Major-General E. S. Godfrey, by Major-General W. S. Schuyler, by Colonel Homer W. Wheeler, by Colonel D. L. Brainard, by Colonel E. P. Andrus, by Captain L. H. North, by George Bent, and by many Cheyenne friends whose names are mentioned in the text.
Besides this, Mr. Charles B. Reynolds has kindly read the manuscript, and Mr. George E. Hyde has verified most of the references and has given me the benefit of his careful study of the history of early travel on the plains. To all these friends I return hearty thanks.
A long association with the Cheyennes has given me a special interest in them, and a special wish that they should be allowed to speak for themselves. What the Indians saw in the battles here described — and in many others — I have learned during years of intimate acquaintance with those who took part in them.
The old time Cheyennes possessed in high degree the savage virtues of honesty, trustworthiness, and bravery in the men, and of courage, devotion, and chastity in the women. Of the older people who took part in the fighting with the white troops some are still living and to-day are the only sources of original information concerning the former ways of the wild Cheyennes, the old free life of the Western plains.
G. B. G.
August 10, 1916.
I
THE CHEYENNES
The Cheyennes are one of three groups of Indiana of the Western plains belonging to the Algonquian family. They are recent immigrants to the region. According to the statement of Black Moccasin, who was long regarded as their most reliable historian — the man with the best memory — some of them reached the Missouri River about 1676, two hundred and four winters before 1880, when the statement was made. Before this they had lived for a time on the river bearing their name, which runs into the Red River of the North from the west, and on which one of their old village sites still exists. Earlier still they were in Minnesota. They have traditions of long journeyings before they reached there.
For a number of years after coming to the Missouri the Cheyennes lived on its banks, cultivating the ground, and occupying earth lodges not unlike those used up to recent times by the Rees and the Mandans. Gradually they drifted out on the plains, gave up their sedentary habits and began to move about over the prairie, dwelling in skin lodges and following the buffalo. As recently as 1850 they tilled the soil to some extent, and men have described to me their mothers’ corn patches on the Little Missouri at about that date.
The people whom we know as Cheyennes are made up of two related tribes, Tsis tsfe’tas and Suh’tai. The latter have been absorbed by the former, and have left hardly any trace. They were the tribe known to early writers as Sta I tan’, i. e., Suh’tai he’ tan e — a man of the Suhtai.
I have known many Cheyennes who remembered old people who were Suhtai— born in the separate Suhtai camp. They agree that the Suhtai language differed somewhat from the Cheyenne, “it sounded funny to them,” and that the Suhtai had many customs of their own which later were laughed at, because unusual. In 1831, at the time when Bent’s Fort was completed, the Suhtai still camped apart by themselves — were still a separate tribe.
The name Cheyenne is not in use by the tribe. They call themselves Tsis tsis’ tas, a word variously translated which Rev. R. Petter our authority on the Cheyenne language believes to mean “similarly bred.” If this is its meaning, it resembles so many other Indian tribal names which are explained to mean variously, “the people,” “the real people,” etc., and perhaps actually mean “the people,” i. e., “the folks,” “our folks,” “us.” Tsis tsis’tas might also mean the cut or gashed people, and the tribal sign signifies cut or gashed, though often explained as referring to striped feathers sometimes, but by no means always, used in feathering the arrows. The word Cheyenne is frequently explained as coming from the French chien in allusion to the Dog Soldiers, but it is, in fact, a Sioux term Sha hi’e la, or Sha hi’e na, people speaking language not understood.
The Sioux speak of those who talk intelligibly to them as “white talkers,” and call those who speak a language not understood “red talkers.” I’a or i’e is to talk intelligibly. Ie’ska used as a verb means to speak fluently and intelligently. As a substantive the word means an interpreter. In speaking of one who talks their language the Dakotas use the verb Ska e’a, to talk white. Of one whose language they cannot understand and who cannot understand them they say Sim e’5, to talk red; that is, unintelligibly. The name given by the Sioux to the Cheyennes, Sha hi’e la, means red words, or red speech — speaking a foreign tongue.
Partly as a result of long association with the village tribes of the Missouri — Rees, Mandans, and Ilidatsa — the Cheyennes have among them a strong infusion of foreign blood. A still greater mingling of alien blood comes from their warlike character, so pronounced during many years of the last century, which resulted in the capture from their enemies of great numbers of children of both sexes who in due course were adopted into the tribe, grew up as Cheyennes, and married and reared children. Old Cheyennes have told me that it is difficult to find any Cheyennes without a strain of foreign blood, and as I think over my acquaintances I can recall hardly any whose ancestry can be traced far back wholly in the Cheyenne tribe. In another book I have given a list of twenty-eight tribes from which captives had been taken by the Cheyennes.
When the Cheyennes first met the white people they were shy and timid, and endeavored to avoid the newcomers. Lewis and Clark speak of this, and old men among the Cheyennes say that they have always been told that in former times the chiefs advised that the white strangers be avoided. This may have some reference to the speech attributed to the Cheyenne Culture Hero, in which he prophesied a meeting with a people whose skins were white and whose ways were different, and predicted that misfortune to his people would follow their knowledge of these strangers.
The late Ben Clark, in the manuscript prepared at the request of General Sheridan, declared that the Cheyennes were called the Kite Indians, because perpetually on the move — always seen at a distance and fleeing.
Among the tribes of the plains the Cheyennes have had one ally on whose fidelity they could always depend. These were the Arapahoes, who for many generations have been associated with the Cheyennes on terms of the closest friendship, camping with them for long periods, uniting with them in their wars, or at other times being the medium through whom have come proposals for peace from hostile tribes.
The tradition as to when the Arapahoes joined the Cheyennes is vague enough, and we know little about it, though much has been written on the subject. A milder and more easy-going people than the Cheyennes, they yet fought side by side with them in many a stubborn battle. There is a large infusion of Arapaho blood in the Cheyenne tribe, for many Cheyenne men married Arapaho women. On the other hand, it is my impression that comparatively few Cheyenne women have married Arapaho men.
Historical knowledge of the Cheyennes begins with the accounts of Lewis and Clark, though many years earlier the French trappers and traders had penetrated their country, which was on the plains near the Black Hills, and especially on the upper courses of certain streams which flow out of those hills. I think it very possible that long before this the Cheyennes had been met by the Verendryes, and that they may have been the tribe which the Verendrye Journal terms Gens de I’arc. Perhaps this can never be shown, but the name Gens du serpent, given to their enemies by the people of the Bow, suggests the Cheyenne term Shi shf ni wi he tan lu, snake men, the name given by the Cheyennes to the Comanches, who, the Cheyennes declare, occupied that country at the time when they reached the neighborhood of the Black Hills. The Cheyenne name for the tribes called Snakes by the whites is Sus’son I.
Although the books constantly speak of the Cheyennes as at war with the Sioux, I do not find among them any tradition that they ever had serious quarrels with the plains people whom we know and speak of as Sioux. On the other hand, they were at bitter enmity with the northern Dakota or Assiniboines, and traditions of their wars with them run back a long way. Later enemies were the Kiowas, the Comanches, and the Crows, all of whom they gradually expelled from the country that they had invaded. The Cheyennes were long at war with the Pawnees and with the Shoshoni, and these hostilities endured up to the time when intertribal wars ceased.
Early in the nineteenth century they were at peace with the Kiowas and Comanches, and in the Journal of Jacob Fowler for November, 1821, are found references to Kiowa Comanches, Kiowa Apaches, Cheyennes and “Snakes” (Comanches?) travelling together in more or less amity. Cheyenne tradition speaks of the Kiowas as peacable co-occupants with them of the Little Missouri country long after the Spaniards had come up there from the southwest to trade and before the Cheyennes had ever seen the French or English whites. The last great battle with the Kiowas, Comanches, and Apaches took place in 1838. Two years later a peace was made which has not since been broken.
The Cheyennes were long at war with the Utes. At the time of the first settlement of western Colorado, after gold had been discovered, miners had come into the country, and villages and towns had been established on the flanks of the mountains in that territory, war journeys by Cheyennes and Utes against each other were constantly taking place. The reports from officials of the Indian Service during the years 1862 to 1865 frequently complain of the trouble given to the settlers by the Cheyennes and Arapahoes in their war journeys against the Utes and by the Utes when they went against the Cheyennes.
Farther to the northward the Cheyennes had other enemies in the Crows, on whose territory they had begun to encroach after they had crossed the Missouri River and moved westward toward the mountains. Their battles with the Crows lasted at least seventy years, and perhaps longer, but were interrupted by a truce which perhaps endured from 1851 to 1854 or thereabouts.
With the Blackfeet, still farther to the north, the Cheyennes did not often come in contact, though occasionally they met, and when they met they fought.
The village tribes of the Missouri — Mandan, Ankara, and Hidatsa — were commonly on good terms with the Cheyennes. This is what we should expect from the fact that these were the first tribes that they met in friendship on the plains and since they lived with or near them for a long time. Still there were occasional quarrels even with these people. Maximilian tells of stories of battles with the Cheyennes that he heard from the Mandans, while the Cheyennes give accounts of fights that they had with the Arikaras.
On their way west, perhaps long before they reached the country of the Red River, the Cheyennes met the Assiniboines — the Ho he. It is related that the two tribes came together when each was trying to surround a herd of buffalo. They quarrelled over this and came to blows. Old Assiniboines have told me that at this time the Cheyennes were armed only with clubs and with sharpened sticks, and this is precisely what the Cheyennes themselves say. The Assiniboines, however, had guns and killed a number of the Cheyennes and scalped them.
The sound of the guns and their dreadful power terrified the Cheyennes and they fled. As they had never before been attacked by enemies, the Cheyennes did not know what to make of the situation, but after a time one of them stood up and harangued the people and said: “Now we have fought with these people; they attacked us and have killed some of us. After this let us fight with all people we meet, and we shall become great men.” So they began to fight all tribes wherever they met them and it did make great men of them. They came to be great warriors and took many prisoners.
However, there is a tradition of a time when the Cheyennes and their kindred, the Suh’tai, lived in the far northeast — long before the battles with the Ho he — when those two tribes fought with one another. During their last great fight they discovered that they spoke a similar language and that they were related, and then made a peace which was never broken.
Not a few traditions are handed down of the battles of the Cheyennes and the Ho he, in which the Cheyennes were always defeated. Some Cheyenne authorities include the Ojibwa among the Ho he. It was the practise of the Ho he to come at night to attack the Cheyenne camps. They carried horns made of the hollow stems of some plant, with which they signalled to each other, making a call like that of the buffalo in spring, so that, if the Cheyennes heard them approaching, they might suppose buffalo were coming and thus not be on the lookout for the enemy. They slew many Cheyennes.
An oft-told story explains how a dog saved a family from death by the Ho he.
In those days a man, his wife, and well-grown son were camped apart from the tribe. They had a dog, whose puppies were in the lodge. One night the mother dog went out to look for food for the puppies, and returning to them after a time began to cry over them and lick them. The man saw what she was doing and wondered. He spoke to the dog and said: “Why do you do this? If you know that something bad is going to happen, tell me what it is. We do not wish to die. If we are in danger, help us, and we will save your puppies. Try in some way to help us.”
After he had spoken thus to the dog, she went out of the lodge and was gone for some time, and then came back and stood in the lodge looking toward the door. The man’s wife told him to take up the puppies. He put them in his robe on his back, and they all made ready to go out, but first the man made up a large fire in the lodge, so that any one who saw it would suppose the people were still there.
The dog left the lodge and they followed her, and she led them down to the river and straight across. After a time they heard guns sounding all around their camp, and they knew that the Ho he were attacking the lodge with the fire burning in it. They went on to another camp where Cheyennes were living and told them that the Ho h€ had attacked their lodge, so the Cheyennes moved away and all escaped. The story of how the dog saved her master has been told in the camp since that time.
For a long time the Cheyennes possessed no arms that they could use in fighting the Ho he. They talk much about those dreadful days, and tell of the terror that they felt of these enemies, of the triumph when on rare occasions and through some accident they succeeded in killing one, of the care with which their camping-places were chosen to avoid attack, and of how finally, through the ready wit of an old woman, they succeeded in obtaining a few guns.
In those days, long before they had horses, they travelled from place to place, packing some of their property on dogs and carrying the rest on their backs. Once the people were camped in their earth lodges and were chasing buffalo on foot. They had hunted for three or four days and now had abundant meat. They left this camp and moved a short distance down the stream. One old woman, however, who was busy making grease, remained at the old camp. She said: “I shall stay here for a time, because I wish to finish pounding up my bones, and boiling them, and skimming off the grease.”
The night was dark and the old woman was alone in the camp. She was still boiling her bones and skimming the grease from the pot. She had made a torch and tied it to a stick and thrust the stick down her back, between her dress and her body, so that the torch stood above her head, and threw light on the pot. She was blowing the grease off the water when a person entered the lodge and sat down by the head of her bed. She did not look up, but kept blowing the grease from the water. Then, one after another, walked into the lodge about fifty great, tall Assiniboines.
There was plenty of food hanging in the lodge, and at one side was some pounded meat. The Assiniboines said to each other: “We will get something to eat first, and then we will kill her.” They made signs to her that they were hungry, and to each one she gave some pounded meat, and then began to roast some fresh meat.
The old woman was badly frightened. She kept saying to herself: “They will surely kill me. What can I do to save myself?” Hanging up in the lodge was a great sheet of back fat — tallow — and the old woman took it down to roast it so that the visitors might eat it with their meat. She put it on a stick and hung it aver the fire until it had begun to cook and the hot grease was dropping from it. Then, lifting it as if to turn it, she took it from the stick and gave it a mighty swing around her head, throwing the hot fat in the faces of the Assiniboines sitting around the circle, and all jumped back burned. Then she rushed out of the lodge.
Not far in front of the lodge was a high cut bank above the river, with rocks below. The Assiniboines, furious with their burns, rushed after the old woman, following the torch that she carried over her head. She ran fast toward the bank and when close to it threw her torch ahead of her and turned sharp to one side, running along the edge of the bank. The Assiniboines followed the blazing light, and all ran over the bank and, falling on the rocks below, were hurt or killed. The old woman hurried away after the Cheyenne camp and overtook it. She told of the Assiniboines who had come to her lodge, and of what she had done, saying: “I could hear them fall over the cliff; I think all fell over.” The next morning the men returned to the old camp, and here under the bank they found the fifty Ho h€, some of them dead, some with broken backs, some with broken legs, and some with broken arms, creeping about. They killed them all and secured their guns.
The Cheyennes were driven by the Assiniboines in a southwesterly direction until they reached the Missouri River, not far from where Fort Pierre now is. Here for a long time they remained, living with the Mandans and the Arikaras in earth lodges, raising their crops, and making journeys away from the village to secure game or to catch fish; to gather the eggs and young of water-birds in summer, or to collect skunks in the autumn when they were fat
Later they wandered out on the plains after buffalo.
II
THE WAYS OF WARRIORS
After the question of providing subsistence for himself and his family, the main thing that occupied the mind of the Cheyenne was the protection of his people from the attacks of enemies and the effort to reduce the power of those enemies by attacks on them.
The fighting spirit was encouraged. In no way could a young man gain so much credit as by the exhibition of courage. Boys and youths were trained to feel that the most important thing in life was to be brave; that death was not a thing to be avoided; that, in fact, it was better for a man to be killed while in his full vigor rather than to wait until his prime was past, his powers were failing, and he could no longer achieve those feats which to all seemed so desirable. When a man was old he could no longer get about easily; the labors of the hunt and of the war-path were too much for him; he was pushed aside by the more active and vigorous. He lost his teeth; he could not enjoy his food; he sat on the cold side of the lodge; life seemed to hold for him nothing good. How much better, therefore, to struggle and fight, to be brave and accomplish great things, to receive the respect and applause of everyone in the camp, and finally to die gloriously at the hands of the enemy!
Among the Cheyennes, as among other plains tribes, this feeling was very strong. They fought not only to gain the approval of their tribesfellows but for pure enjoyment of the struggle — real gaudium certaminis. The spirit of the camp was such that young men going into battle thought of it as the beginning of a good time that they were to have. To them fighting was a real joy. Perhaps they regarded their rights somewhat as the big game hunter of modern times regards his pursuit of dangerous game. The personal risk must have added enormously to the excitement and enjoyment of the contest.
The chapters in this book are devoted chiefly to conflicts between considerable bodies of men, but it must be remembered that the war-paths of the plains Indians were carried on in a great variety of ways. Men might go off with a special purpose, one, two or three together, or a great war party of hundreds might go; they journeyed on foot or on horseback, according to circumstances.
It will be readily conceived that among people who possessed ideals such as these there would be many exciting adventures. From a mass of individual stories and accounts of small war parties I have chosen three which will perhaps give some notion of the ways of warriors.
The Death of Mouse’s Road
In 1837, the year before the great fight with the Kiowas and Comanches, the Cheyennes were camped on the South Platte River. A war party of fourteen started south on foot to take horses from the Kiowas and Comanches. Stone Forehead and Pushing Ahead were the two who carried the pipes — the leaders.
They found the camp of the enemy at the head of what the Cheyennes called Big Sand Creek, which runs into the Red River (of Texas). That night the Cheyennes went into the camp in couples. Stone Forehead was with a man named Angry. It was very dark. Close behind a lodge which they passed stood a pole with a shield hanging to it. Angry untied the shield from the pole and put it on his back, and they went on, looking for horses. They came to a bunch of fifty or sixty, and went around them and drove them a little way, and each caught a gentle horse, mounted it, and drove off the herd.
When they reached the place where it had been agreed that they should meet, they found the others of the party already there, excepting only six men. Stone Forehead said: “We cannot wait here; we must start.” They did so. Stone Forehead and Pushing Ahead went behind, where it is the custom for the leaders to travel, while the others went ahead. They drove their bunches along side by side, but two or three hundred yards apart. When day came they looked carefully at their horses so that they should know them again, and then they bunched the horses into a single herd. The way was so rough that they drove very slowly, and Pushing Ahead, who knew the country, kept saying: “We are going so slowly that they will surely overtake us.”
It was a little past the middle of the day when they saw the Kiowas and Comanches coming. There were only a few of them — not over thirty. Then the Cheyennes began to catch the swiftest horses, so that they could get about quickly. Pushing Ahead was a brave man. He said: “We must not let them take our horses. I do not think there are many of them.” The Cheyennes mounted the fast horses and bunched up the herd, and, sending two young men ahead to ride one on each side so as to hold the horses together, they stopped. One of the Cheyennes got off his horse and fired at a Comanche, and shot his horse through the body. The Comanche rode back, and soon his horse began to stagger, and the Comanche left it and mounted behind one of his fellows. Then the Cheyennes made a charge on the Kiowas and Comanches, and they turned about and went back.
Of the other six men two, Little Wolf and his partner, Walking Coyote, were alone. They were on the head of the Washita, in level country. They had taken only a few horses. They saw a big party of Kiowas and Comanches coming in two bands. There was a ravine near them, and Little Wolf said: “These horses are tired out. We cannot drive them much farther; the enemy will soon overtake us. Let us dismount and hide in this ravine.” They ran down the ravine and hid in a little hollow, and lay there. If the Kiowas had looked for them they would have found them, but just then they saw the four other Cheyennes far off, and turned to rush to them. Little Wolf and Walking Coyote stayed there till night, and then set off for home on foot.
When the Kiowas and Comanches charged Mouse’s Road and his three companions, the Cheyennes did not run; they rode up on a little hill and got off their horses and began to kill them. They had already left behind the horses they had taken and had only those that they were riding. Now, as the Kiowas and Comanchea came up, the Cheyennes were seen to be taking off their leggings so that they could run fast and easily. The enemy charged them, and the Cheyennes fought bravely, though they had but few arrows, for they had been out a long time. In a little while the enemy had killed three of the Cheyennes.
Early in the fight Mouse’s Road’s bow was broken in two by a ball, and he threw it away. A Comanche chief, seeing him thus disarmed, charged up to kill him with his lance, but Mouse’s Road avoided the blow, caught hold of the Comanche, pulled him from his horse, and killed him with his knife. Mouse’s Road was still unwounded. He let the Comanche’s horse go, and signed to the Kiowas: “Come on.”
There was a man named Lone Wolf, a chief, and a brave man, who had been behind the other Kiowas. He called out: “I have just come and I wish you all to look at me. I intend to kill that man.” He said to a Mexican captive: “Do you ride close behind me.” The two charged upon Mouse’s Road, and the Mexican rode straight at him, but Mouse’s Road, though on foot, did not run away; he ran to meet the Mexican and, springing at him, seized him, pulled him from his horse, and plunged his knife into him several times. While he was doing this Lone Wolf dismounted and rushed up to help the Mexican. Mouse’s Road dropped the dead Mexican and rushed at Lone Wolf, who ran at him with his lance held in both hands above his head, so as to deal a blow of great force. As he thrust with the lance Mouse’s Road stooped and ran under the lance, caught Lone Wolf by the left shoulder, and struck him a terrible blow with his knife in the hip. Lone Wolf turned to run and Mouse’s Road caught him by his hair ornament and with all his force thrust at his back. The knife struck one of the silver hair plates and broke in two, leaving about four inches of the blade on the handle. Lone Wolf screamed for help to his people, but no one came, and Mouse’s Road continued to stab and hack and cut him with the stump of the knife until Lone Wolf fell to the ground, pretending to be dead.
Now came a Comanche chief riding a fine horse, and armed with a lance and bow and arrows. Mouse’s Road took up the lance Lone Wolf had dropped, and ran to meet the Comanche. He parried the Comanche’s lance thrust and drove his own lance into the Comanche and lifted him high out of the saddle, and the Comanche died.
Now the Kiowas and Comanches saw something that they never had seen before — a man who seemed swifter than a horse, more active than a panther, as strong as a bear, and one against whom weapons seemed useless. There were more than a hundred of the Kiowas and Comanches, and only one Cheyenne on foot, without arms, but the Kiowas and Comanches began to run away. Others, braver, made signs to Mouse’s Road, who had now mounted the Comanche’s horse: “Hold on I wait, wait. Take that horse that you have. We will give you a saddle. Go on home to your village and tell your people what has happened.”
“No,” signed Mouse’s Road, “I will not go home; my brothers have all been killed and if I were to go home I should be crying all the time — mourning for these men. You must kill me.”
When he said this all the Kiowas started to run, and Mouse’s Road charged them. Behind the main body of the enemy were two Kiowas who had just come up. Both had guns, and when they saw Mouse’s Road coming they got off their horses and sat down and waited until he was close to them, and then both fired. One of the balls broke his thigh, and he fell from his horse. Yet still he sat up to defend himself with his lance, and the Kiowas and Comanches, though they surrounded him, dared not go near him. One crept up from behind and shot him in the back, and he fell over. Then all the Kiowas and Comanches rushed on him and cut off his head, and when they had done that Mouse’s Road raised himself and sat upright.
The Kiowas and Comanches jumped on their horses in fright, and fled to their village and told the people they had killed a medicine man and he had come to life again, and was coming to attack them. And, the women swiftly packing up a few of their things, the whole camp moved away, leaving many of their lodges standing.
This is the story told by the Kiowas. The Cheyennes have no account of it, for all the Cheyennes were killed. Lone Wolf lived for a long time, scarred and crippled from the cutting he had received. He died not long ago. The Kiowas and Comanches said that Mouse’s Road was the bravest man they ever saw or heard of.
Long Chin’s Strategy
In 1855 runners were sent out from Bent’s New Fort on the Arkansas River to call in the different tribes to receive their annuity goods there. The issue was to be made in the late summer, for the goods were transported by wagon, and it took ox-trains sixty or seventy days to make the journey from Kansas City landing to Bent’s New Fort. At this time, the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Kiowas, Comanches, and Apaches were all under one Indian agent.
When these different tribes got together, camping near the fort, it was a happy and social time. In all the villages drumming, singing, dancing, visiting, and the giving of presents among the people went on night and day. Among the Cheyennes the soldier societies — Elk Horn Scrapers, Bow Strings, Kit Foxes, Red Shields, and Dog Soldiers — took turns having dances in the fort, and the soldier societies of the other tribes did the same. At the fort it was the custom on these occasions to cook food and feast the Indians. They also gave them presents of paints, knives, shirts, looking-glasses, and handkerchiefs.
The tribes were camped about the fort for some time, and after the goods had been issued the Arapahoes moved down the river, the Comanches, with half the Kiowas and the Apaches, moved south to their country, and the remainder of the Kiowas moved north to the Smoky Hill River. Before this about thirty young men of the Elk Horn Scrapers soldier band had set out on the war-path to look for Pawnees, who would be found, they were told, somewhere on the Smoky Hill River, whither the whole Cheyenne tribe was going to renew the medicine arrows.
The Cheyennes and Kiowas moved north slowly, and at length camped on the Smoky Hill River, where Black Butte Creek runs into it. The Cheyennes were camped on the north side of the river, in a great circle which opened to the east, while the Kiowas camped by themselves on the south side of the river. After reaching this place the two tribes held a council, and agreed that after the arrows had been renewed they would start north on the war-path to look for the Pawnees.
About the second night after they had reached this camp a war party of Pawnees came into it and took all the horses that were on Black Butte Creek. From there the trails led north. The Cheyennes at once sent word to the Kiowas that their horses had been taken. Sitting Bear, Light Hair, and Eagle Tail were then the Kiowa war chiefs. They sent a message to the Cheyennes asking them to get together on the trail, and to wait there for them, and not to permit anyone to go ahead of the main party. The Cheyennes waited for the Kio was where the trail was plainest, and when the Kiowa chiefs rode up, Eagle Tail said to the Cheyennes: “Leave this matter of trailing to us. As you people know, we have had more horses taken from us than any other tribe. We are accustomed to following these trails, and are far better able to do it than any other people.” The Cheyennes replied that they were glad to have the Kiowas feel interested in the matter, and they would leave everything to them. The day was clear and bright. The Kiowa chiefs took the trail and followed it fast. Toward sundown it began to get cloudy, and as the sun set it began to rain and grow foggy. The trail seemed to go in the direction of Beaver Creek.
At dark the Kiowas said to the Cheyennes: “Now we should all stop here for the night on this trail, and in the morning we will take it up again.” The Kiowas thrust into the ground a stick pointing in the direction the trail was going. The Dog Soldiers got off their horses a little to one side of where the main party of the pursuers had stopped.
When Long Chin and Tall Bull were talking over this among themselves, they said that they did not like the way in which the Kiowas were following the trail. The Dog Soldiers all came together in a little group, and had a council among themselves. It was still raining and very foggy.
Long Chin was an old warrior. He had been in many fights and had had much experience. He said to the Dog Soldiers: “Saddle up now, and during the night we will go on to Beaver Creek, and will follow that stream down, and if the Pawnees went that way we shall certainly strike their trail.” They followed his advice and about sixty Cheyennes started on. Long Chin, Tall Bull, and Good Bear took the lead to go toward Beaver Creek. These men knew the country well, and even though it was dark and raining they had no trouble in going to the stream, which they reached very early in the morning. After the sun had risen the weather grew clear, and following down the stream they soon struck the trail of the Pawnees. The Kiowas and the Cheyennes who had been left behind did not start until morning, and then followed the trail, but when they reached Beaver Creek and saw that Long Chin and his party were before them they went on slowly, for it was useless to try to overtake those who were in advance.
The first discovery made by Long Chin was a buffalo carcass which the Pawnees had killed not long before, and from which they had taken the best parts of the meat.
“Ha ha,” said Long Chin, “now we shall catch them. Somewhere on this creek they will stop to cook food and eat, and we shall overtake them.” The Dog Soldiers began to go faster. Old Whirlwind was with this party. All his horses had been taken by the Pawnees, but from a Kiowa friend he had borrowed a good horse, which his friend had told him was fast.
Long Chin was really the head of this party, most of whom, but not all, were Dog Soldiers. He was a half-brother of Tall Bull. Long Chin now rode some distance ahead of the party to look about and try to discover the Pawnees. At length he rode up on a hill, and as he peeped over it he saw a smoke, and he made signs to his party that they should get ready. They got off their ponies and began to put bridles on the war horses that they were leading; to uncover their shields, and such of the Dog Soldiers as had dog ropes began to prepare them.
Presently Long Chin rode back and told the young men that the Pawnees were a long way off, and that it was too far to charge on them from that place. They must remember that the Pawnees had a number of fast horses, and if they were given time to get ready they would mount and escape. “The horses,” he went on, “are all about where the smoke rises from, and as I looked I saw one or two men walking about among the herds. These people are at the mouth of Cherry Brush Creek, and the best thing for us to do is to ride close together, and to go down into the bed of Beaver Creek and get as close as we can before we make a charge. If we can take the Pawnees by surprise, they will not have time to get on their fast horses. One thing you may remember, my young men: if a Pawnee is armed only with a how and arrows, do not fear him. Last night their bows and arrows got wet and the bowstrings will stretch and break when they pull on them. Now let us go.”
They went down into the stream bed, as Long Chin had ordered, and when they had come close enough Long Chin crept up and looked again. The Pawnees were roasting meat all around the fire. Some were eating and some were lying down. Long Chin motioned for his young men to charge. The Pawnees were taken completely by surprise. Some of them jumped up and started to run without their bows, but one Pawnee cried out something, and then they all came to their senses, and ran back for their bows and quivers. One Pawnee was on foot, herding the horses. He started to run back to his party, but was cut off. Old Whirlwind, on the Kiowa horse, found that his friend had told him true. The horse proved to be fast and ran ahead of all the others, and Whirlwind counted the first coup. When he had done this, he ran on toward the horses, so that the Pawnees could not mount any of them. The Pawnees ran down into the creek bottom. One Pawnee fought bravely. He remained behind the others, trying to hold back the Cheyennes, so that his young men might get away, and he wounded Good Bear and Picket with arrows. The Pawnees did not have a single gun among them. All carried bows and arrows. Before sundown all had been killed.
When the Cheyennes went back to the Pawnee camp-fire and looked about it they found there eleven buffalo robes which the Pawnees had spread out on the ground to dry, but when they counted the Pawnees that had been killed there were only ten, so they were sure that one of them had hidden in the brush and had escaped.
A few years ago there was living in the Pawnee tribe a man who said that his father was the only one who escaped in this fight. The father was in the bushes when the Cheyennes made their charge, and he hid there. After it grew dark he went down the way the Pawnees had retreated and found a blanket that some one had lost, and this he wore back to his home.
The Cheyennes used to call this fight “Long Chin’s victory on Cherry Brush Creek,” for Long Chin had planned everything that was done.
That night as they were returning Long Chin’s party met the Kiowas and the main part of the Cheyennes. Long Chin presented the Pawnee scalps to the Kiowas, so that they might dance over them.
It was said that Eagle Tail and the other Kiowa chiefs felt ashamed of themselves, because, after they had boasted to the Cheyennes that they would overtake the Pawnees, Long Chin had outgeneralled them.
When this party returned to the village something took place that is known to have happened only once before. The thirty Elk Horn Scrapers who had started out from Bent’s Fort to look for Pawnees had killed two Pawnees on the Solomon River, and were coming back to the village on the Smoky Hill River. Early in the morning the leader of this party with the two Pawnee scalps sat on his horse ready to run into the circle of the village from the southeast side, and Long Chin’s party, which had just arrived with their many scalps, sat on their horses ready to run into the village from the northeast side, and to go about the circle. Neither of the two parties knew that the other was there, and the two ran into the circle at the same time, shooting off their guns. Some of Long Chin’s party mistook some of the Elk Horn Scrapers for members of their own party, and mingled with them before they found out their mistake. This did no harm as both parties had scalps, and both marched into the centre of the village.
The scalp dance that they had after these victories was one of the biggest ever known. After it was over the Kiowas moved away to their country south of the Arkansas River, and the Cheyennes moved away in bands to good hunting grounds, as it was now near the fall of the year.
How Six Feathers Was Named
Once, long ago, a big village of Arapahoes and a few Cheyennes were camped on Cherry Creek, in Colorado. A large war party, most of them Arapahoes with some Cheyennes, left the camp to go against the Utes to take horses from them. When they had come near the Ute camp, they left their robes and other things in a place nearby and then the men entered the camp and began to take horses. The Utes discovered them, and they were obliged to run.
When the Utes chased them the Arapahoes and Cheyennes scattered on the way back to where they had left their things. A few shots were fired. The Utes still followed them. When they had come to the place where they had left their things, the Arapahoes and the Cheyennes stopped and they had a fight. Then the Utes left them and went back to their camp, and the Arapahoes and Cheyennes went on toward home.
An Arapaho named Crane had taken a few horses and had mounted a big black one, but the Utes had followed him so closely that he was forced to abandon all the horses except the one he was riding. He was separated from the rest and driven off to one side. When the Arapahoes and Cheyennes started back Crane was not with them; he had not appeared.
That night, after Crane had ridden away from the Utes who had followed him, while he was still riding fast, his horse ran over a smooth rock and fell with him and broke his leg. He bound up his leg and mounted his horse again, and travelled all that night and all the next day until toward evening. Now his leg began to swell and became so painful that he could no longer ride. He looked up and down the stream for a good hiding-place, and at last he found one where the rocks projected over the bank to form a sort of cave, and a pine tree had fallen over against the mouth of it so as partly to hide it. He rode up to the mouth of the cave, and almost fell off his horse, for he was nearly helpless. But he held the animal by the bridle, and raising himself to his knees he shot it in the head. It was late in the fall, after the leaves had fallen, and the weather had begun to get cool. He cut the flesh of his horse into flakes and hung them upon the limbs of the tree to dry.
After he had been there one moon and a half, one day as he sat looking over the valley a speckled eagle came and alighted in the pine tree just above him. Crane thought to himself: “This is a pretty bird; I believe I will shoot it.” He reached out his hand for his gun, but as he did so he began to think, and presently he said to himself: “No, I will not shoot it. This may be some medicine bird.” He sat there, and the eagle sat on the limb turning its head, looking this way and that and sometimes looking down at him, and at last the eagle bent down its head and spoke and said to him: “You shall get back safely to your home, and when you get there your name shall be Six Feathers.” After it had said that the eagle flew away.
It was not long after this that the eagle came again and alighted on the pine tree, and after a little time it again spoke to him and said: “Friend, your name is now Eagle Head.” Then after a little while the eagle said: “Cover your head now with your robe and I will doctor your leg.” Crane covered his head as he had been told, and presently be could feel the eagle’s wings touching his leg, but he could not see what the eagle did.
Crane remained in this place five months. He had plenty of clothing and could keep warm. He was very careful of his food, and each day ate only a little bit. In the fifth month he could hop down to the creek. Before that he had got his water from the snow. When he got down to the stream he cut himself two crutches, and winding the heads with horse-hide that he had dressed, he practised until he could walk well with the crutches. He could now bear a little weight on his leg, but feared to rest too much on it lest he should break it again.
He now started out to find the camp of his people. Three times on his way he killed a buffalo. The first time he killed he stopped and rested three nights. When he killed the second buffalo he stopped two nights and rested. The next one was killed close to the South Platte River, near its head. He lay there ten days.
It was now spring and the trees were beginning to bud. Crane cut out the meat of the buffalo and dried it, and he stretched the hide over a great stump and made a bull-boat. He waited here until the hide had dried. By this time all his people in the camp were mourning for him, and had cut off their hair, for they thought him dead.
After the boat was dried and stretched over the willows Crane put his meat in the boat and got in himself, and with a stick for a paddle he started to float down the stream. Whenever he wished to stop for the night or rest he dragged his boat out on the shore.
At this time the people were camped on the Cache la Poudre River. One morning, very early, the young men were all out for their horses, when one of them heard some one singing. He looked up the stream and saw Six Feathers come floating down, singing as he came along. When he had reached the camp an old man went about through the village, calling out that they must put up a separate lodge, for Six Feathers had returned. The eagle had told Six Feathers to announce his name as soon as he reached the camp, and he did so. A lodge was put up as directed, and when Six Feathers’s boat had come opposite to it he landed and hobbled up to it, and there he told his story. He told it all and then said to his young brother: “An eagle took pity on me and helped me, and after you have counted your first coup your name shall be Eagle Head.”
Six Feathers lived to be a great man among his people, and at last he became a great chief. He always used to say that if he had become frightened and lost his senses he never could have saved himself, but he kept his wits about him all the time.
Six Feathers lived for a long time with the tribe, but at last a horse fell with him and killed him.
III
A CROW BATTLE
With the Crows the Cheyennes were at war for many years. How many it is impossible to say, but traditions tell us of fights which took place in the very first years of the last century.
As nearly as may be gathered from the stories, the Cheyennes in the year 1801 attacked and captured a Crow village of thirty lodges. Lewis and Clark in 1804 saw at the Ankara village some Cheyennes who had with them Crow prisoners. They record that the Cheyennes were then at war with the Crows.
About 1820 an important battle took place between the Cheyennes and Crows of which vivid tradition still remains. It was the greatest of many encounters, and was the second remembered move of the medicine arrows against a hostile tribe.
The year before this event — probably in 1819 — another, quite as well remembered, took place. A party of thirty-two Cheyennes, most of them Crooked Lance soldiers, were travelling on the war-path through the northern country. While moving among the mountains they met a Crow scout who was in advance of the Crow camp. The Cheyennes overtook the scout and killed him, but had hardly done so when a great force of Crows appeared and charged them. The Cheyennes retreated to the top of a hill, where, surrounded, they fought for a long time. Not far off were three different camps of Crows. These were sent for and camped all about the hill, so that the Cheyennes could not get away.
The story of what followed comes from the Crows, since none of the Cheyennes with the party survived. The Crows declare that one of their men had crept close to the Cheyennes and was shooting at them through a cleft in the rock and had killed several. One of the Cheyennes had a gun and the others pointed out to him the situation of the Crow. The Cheyenne lay down and aimed at the cleft and when the Crow raised his head to shoot the Cheyenne fired, hitting him in the forehead and killing him. The Crow sprang forward and his body lay head downward, half over the rock. Then the Cheyenne sang a song and held up his gun toward the sun, and struck the butt on the ground, and fired and killed a Crow. Four times he did this and killed four Crows. These were his last shots. The Crows wished to know who this man was, and afterward asked the Cheyennes, and sang for them the Cheyenne’s song. When they heard the song his people knew who the man was, for the song belonged to One-Eyed Antelope.
The Cheyennes fought the first day and night and the next day, but by the evening of the second day they had run out of ammunition and arrows. When they had nothing more to shoot with — soon after One-Eyed Antelope had fired his last shot — they threw away their bows, drew their knives, and made a charge on the Crows, and in hand-to-hand fighting all were killed. The Crows say that the Cheyennes killed twenty-five of their people, but some Crows say that many more than that were killed. The only Cheyennes who escaped were two scouts who had been sent out before the Crows were encountered, and who watched the entire fight from a distance. They brought to the Cheyenne camps the news of what had happened.
The stream near which this fight occurred is commonly called Crow Standing Creek by the Crows, because, it is said, a Cheyenne during the fight acted like a crow (bird), cawing and walking about outside of the breastworks. On the other hand, some of the Cheyennes of the present day say that the stream is called Crow Standing Off Creek, i. e., Where They Stood Off the Crows (Indians). The map name to-day is Prairie Dog Creek, and the scene of the killing could not have been very distant from where the Fetterman command was annihilated nearly fifty years later.
