Seven and Nine years Among the Camanches and Apaches Part 6

When an Indian dies, his body is painted, oiled, and dressed in its best attire, a fresh buffalo skin (if it is to be had), and failing this, a blanket is wound tightly around the body, and bound with thongs, then other blankets are soaked in water until they become very soft and elastic, when they also are wound around the body with great care and exactness, so as to exclude the air. This done, the dead warrior's arms are placed by his side and a liberal supply of food (when the article is plenty); placed on the scaffold.

These scaffolds are constructed by placing three upright posts in the ground in the shape of a parallelogram, and connecting them by lateral bars. Over these bars are placed a number of willow rods, on which the body rests, in such a position that the feet will be towards the rising sun. The scaffolds are placed high enough to be out of the reach of dogs and wolves, yet not so high as to be inaccessible to the family, some portion of whom visit it daily, bringing food and water, which they place near the head of the corpse. The spirit is supposed to be in need of this sustenance on his journey to the happy hunting grounds. Once there, his spear, bow, and arrows will enable him to kill game in plenty.

When the scaffolds decay and fall, the relatives collect the bones and bury them. The skull, which by this time has become perfectly bleached and purified, is taken and placed among a number of others which form a circle, the faces turned inward and facing a large shaft, around which is heaped a quant.i.ty of buffalo skulls. In this position they are preserved for years, the objects of religious veneration. The scaffolds of the chiefs are distinguished from the others by pieces of red or blue cloth which are thrown over the bodies.

A party had been dispatched in search of food, and were expected back hourly. How anxiously we awaited their arrival none may know, who have not suffered the pangs of hunger. At last they made their appearance, bringing with them a quant.i.ty of berries called by the Indians oth-to-toa. This berry was pleasanter to taste than the mesquite. The juice, when extracted and mixed with water, tasted very much like the orange.

In one of my strolls I had observed some blackbirds, and in the hope of finding their nests, I was induced to wander to a greater distance from the village than I had been at any previous time. My search was rewarded by a quant.i.ty of eggs, and filling my Indian s.h.i.+rt with as many as I could carry, I retraced my steps.

In struggling through the tangled underbrush, I lost my way, and after wandering about for some time in the hope of finding the path, I came to a small spring that was bubbling up from a crevice in the rock.

The night had closed in rapidly, and, finding it was too dark to prosecute my journey further, I concluded to remain here for the remainder of the night. Gathering a few dried leaves, I soon had a fire lighted, and then securing enough brush to last me until dawn, I set about preparing my supper, which was merely roasted eggs. This frugal meal was soon dispatched, and heaping more wood on the fire, I selected a dry spot, and stretching my tired limbs, was soon in a sound slumber.

How long I slept I know not, but I was awakened by peals of thunder and flashes of the most vivid lightning. These sounds were unusual in this country, as rain rarely fell in these lat.i.tudes.

Should a storm of any magnitude pour its waters through the gorge in which I then was, I felt my position would be perilous in the extreme. I gathered up my supplies, that were collected at such an expenditure of labor, and scrambled over rocks and through sand towards the side of the mountain. I had not gone far when the rain commenced--first in large drops, and then in a steady patter; before many minutes the storm burst upon the mountain in all its fury. The rain fell in sheets, and literally deluged surrounding objects. My resting place was becoming untenable, and my life was momentarily imperiled by huge ma.s.ses of falling rock, which had been loosened from its bed and came tearing down the mountain side, carrying all before it. s.h.i.+elding myself behind trees and boulders, I climbed upwards, in the hope of finding a more permanent shelter than that afforded by the stumps of trees. The rain continued to pour down with increasing fury, and anon the vivid flash quickly followed by the startling roar of the thunder, and the noise of the seething flood, which by this time was bounding through the canon, conspired to make the scene more terrible. Almost despairing, and thoroughly drenched, I was about yielding myself up to the fury of the tempest, when my eye fell upon what appeared to be a crevice in the rock. Hastily making towards it, I entered. The deeper I penetrated the larger it became, and I found myself at last snugly ensconced within the recesses of a vast cave.

Congratulating myself on this good fortune, I was about preparing to resume my rudely interrupted slumber, when I was startled by the sight of two glaring eyes that were peering at me from the depth of the cave.

Here was a dilemma. I had certainly intruded on some wild animal, and penetrated its lair. My situation became unpleasant in the extreme. Turn in whichever direction I might, those fiery eyes followed me, and at last I found that I was being subjected to the influence of a horrible fascination.

My unpleasant experience with "old Eph" recurred to me with more force than pleasure; and the thought that I might have to deal with a grizzly, made doubly ferocious by being bearded in his den, caused the cold perspiration to stand out in beads upon my forehead. Suddenly I was startled by a roar that echoed through the cave. Those piercing eyes approached nearer. Mad with fright, I rushed to the mouth of the cave, and began a headlong descent down the steep banks of the cliff. In my wild scramble I dislodged stones and brush, which came tumbling precipitately after me, and I also heard another noise which struck terror to my heart; it was the foot stroke of the infuriated animal that was pursuing me!

Not knowing whither I was going, but actuated by the sole desire to escape from this new danger, I very shortly found myself nearing the swollen river that was bounding through the canon. There was no alternative, and, bracing myself for a final effort, I plunged into the swollen stream and breasted the waves, hoping to reach a rock that raised its head above the water, about an hundred yards down the stream; struggle as I might, I felt the rapid current sweeping me on with the rapidity of an avalanche. Should I reach it or be borne down the torrent, and be dashed to pieces against some hidden boulder? Nerving myself for one grand effort, I breasted the current, and, to my joy, found I was nearing the rock; striking out with the strength of despair I reach the refuge--the waves dash me against its sides--I clutch at the jagged ends that project out of the water, and by their aid clamber out of the reach of immediate danger!

Finding myself safe, I look about me. The first object that attracts my attention is the lithe form of my pursuer who is running up and down the bank las.h.i.+ng his tail in fury, and occasionally breaking forth in the most savage roars. In its yellow coat and cat-like movements I recognize the dreaded cougar--the tiger of the western mountains--an animal that, when once aroused, will not hesitate to attack man or beast. He seemed to be deliberating whether to follow me into the stream. It was plain he disliked entering the water, and after pacing to and fro for some little time, turned abruptly and left the bank. Thinking I had achieved a victory, and finding that now I was safe, my courage was a.s.suming a very bold front; I picked up a stone and threw it in the direction of the beast. Foolish action! It hit the cougar, and turning, he now rushed to the bank, and, bellowing with rage, plunged into the river. My position now became critical in the extreme. Once the rock was gained, I would certainly be mangled by the fierce creature. I could not take flight by water, as he could easily overtake me.

My terror was extreme, and I lost the power of will. Fright had made me imbecile, and I rushed about the crest of the rock like a crazy man. All this time the enraged brute drew nearer; his paws touch the base of the rock; he is in the act of drawing his dripping limbs out of the water.

Mouth open, tongue extended, and eyes inflamed with rage, the cougar prepares for the deadly spring. But look! the surface of the rock moves, gives way, and slides with a gentle motion towards the river. He makes a desperate effort to free himself from this natural trap, but in vain; the rock moves faster every moment, and with one grand rush this land slide is engulfed in the turbid waters. Instantly the body is thrown back into the seething flood, and my last view of him is as he turns a bend and disappears forever.

After waiting several hours for the waters to subside, I am enabled to wade to the opposite sh.o.r.e, and, discovering my own trail by accident, wend my way back to the village.

My adventure is related to Wakometkla, and soon spreads throughout the village. From this time forth I am regarded in the light of a hero, but on what grounds I was never able to satisfactorily determine, as I could scarcely consider running away from a danger heroic.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE BUFFALO DANCE.

The buffalo being the main dependence of the Camanches for food, it naturally follows that they are fully alive to the importance of securing an abundant supply of meat during the season in which these animals migrate to the southern prairies.

The superst.i.tion which forms so large a part of the Indian character is especially noticeable in the ceremonies in which they engage every year for the purpose of securing a successful hunt. This ceremony, although not peculiar to any special tribe, is a very novel one, and may be of interest to the reader. Like all other tribes, the Camanches lead lives of idleness and leisure, and consequently devote a great deal of time to their sports and amus.e.m.e.nts, of which they have a great variety.

Of these dancing is one of the princ.i.p.al, and may be seen in a variety of forms.

Among these are the scalp dance, the boasting dance, the buffalo dance, and a dozen other dances, all of which have their peculiar characters and meanings or objects.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Scalp Dance.]

These exercises are extremely grotesque in their appearance, and to the looker-on, who knows not their meaning or importance, they are an uncouth and frightful display of starts, jumps, and yelps, and jarring gutturals, which to a stranger are truly terrifying.

But when one gives them a little attention, and becomes initiated into their mysterious meaning, they become a subject of the most intense and thrilling interest.

Each dance has its peculiar step, and every step has its meaning. Each dance also has its peculiar song, and that is frequently so intricate and mysterious, that not one in ten of the young men who are dancing and singing it know the meaning of the song they are chanting over. None but the medicine men are allowed to understand them; and even they are generally only initiated into the secret on the payment of a liberal stipend for their instruction, which requires much application and study.

There is evidently a set song and sentiment for every dance, for the songs are perfectly measured and sung in exact time with the beat of the drum; and always with a uniform set of sounds and expressions, which plainly indicate certain sentiments, which are expressed by the voice, though sometimes not given in any language whatever. They have other dances and songs which are not so intricate or mysterious, and which are understood by every person in the tribe, being sung in their own language.

Some of these have much poetry in them, being perfectly metred, but without rhyme.

It is of the buffalo dance, however, that I propose to treat in this chapter, and of which I will try to give the reader as clear an idea as is possible from a mere description; but no words of mine can enable you to fully realize the strange tumult, scampering, grunting and bellowing with which my ears have been so often a.s.sailed.

The buffalo is essentially a wandering creature, congregating at times in huge herds, and roaming from north to south or from east to west, apparently without any directing impulse, but in reality in search of forage. Although their movement to the southward usually takes place at a stated season of the year, it varies greatly in the number who take part in it. Hence it sometimes happens that the Camanches are unable to procure their necessary supply of meat, and in some cases, when the migration occurs at a later period than usual, the Indians find themselves practically without food, and disastrous seasons of famine ensue. This involves the sending forth of expeditions in search of the tardy herds. These hunting parties, having to pa.s.s through the country occupied by other tribes, are almost certain to be a.s.sailed and hara.s.sed by them, and sometimes compelled to return with the loss of many of their number, and without accomplis.h.i.+ng the object of the expedition.

Hence the Indians are loth to undertake these hunts, and prefer to depend upon the means which their superst.i.tion leads them to believe will have the effect of bringing the buffaloes within their hunting grounds.

This is nothing more than the buffalo dance, and when the emergency arises, every Indian musters and brings out his mask (the skin of a buffalo's head, with the horns on), which he is obliged to keep in readiness for this occasion. Then commences the buffalo dance, which is held for the purpose of making "buffalo come," as the Indians term it, or, in other words, of inducing the buffalo herds to change their feeding grounds, and direct their course towards the vast prairies to the eastward of the Camanche villages, where the young braves can shoot them down, and the tribe be enabled to procure an abundant supply of food.

During the greater part of the year the hunters can find the buffaloes within twenty miles of the village, and entirely within their own territory; but in some seasons the young men range as far about the country as they can safely venture on account of their enemies, without finding meat. When this intelligence is brought back to the village, the chiefs, medicine men and counselors sit in solemn council until they have decided upon the most practicable expedient for overcoming the difficulty, and they rarely fail to decide upon the old and only expedient, which has never failed. The chief issues his orders to the runners or criers, who quickly proclaim it throughout the village, and in a few moments all are a.s.sembled to take part in the dance, which at once begins. The place where this strange performance is carried on is the public area in the center of the village, directly in front of the temple.

About ten or fifteen Indians join in the dance at a time, each with the skin of the buffalo head, with the horns on, placed on his head, and armed with his lance or bow, with which he is accustomed to kill these animals. I have said that this dance always has the desired effect of making "buffalo come." It never fails, from the simple reason that when it is once begun it cannot be stopped, but is kept up incessantly night and day until the welcome herds are descried by the watchful look-outs.

Drums are beaten and rattles shaken, songs and yells are continually shouted, and lookers on stand ready, with masks on their heads and weapons in their hands, to take the place of each dancer who becomes fatigued and falls out of the ring.

A chain of look-outs is established connecting the hills surrounding the village with those to the eastward, and the moment buffaloes are discovered by the distant watchers, they speedily pa.s.s the signal from one to anther until it reaches the village. It is instantly understood by the whole tribe, and the joyful intelligence is received with shouts of thanks to their strange G.o.d and to mystery men and the dancers, who have been the immediate cause of the successful result.

During my residence in the Camanche village, these dances were sometimes kept up for two or three weeks without intermission, until the buffaloes made their appearance.

Hence the buffalo dance can never fail, and the Indians consider it an infallible means of bringing the herds into their country. Every man in the tribe is obliged to be provided with the mask of the buffalo, which he can use whenever he is called upon to dance to make "buffalo come."

The mask is put on over the head, and has a strip of the skin hanging to it of the whole length of the animal, with the tail attached to it, which pa.s.ses down over the back of the wearer and drags on the ground.

When one of the dancers becomes wearied of the exercise, he indicates it by leaning forward and sinking his body to the ground. One of the lookers-on then draws a bow upon him and hits him with a blunt arrow, and he falls like a buffalo and is immediately dragged out of the ring by the bystanders, who brandish their knives about him, and, having gone through the motions of skinning him and cutting him up, they release him, and his place is at once supplied by another who dances into the ring with his mask on. By thus relieving one another the dance is kept up day and night until they reach the desired end, and make the "buffalo come."

When the signal is given that the buffaloes have made their appearance, the dance is discontinued at once, and a scene of great excitement ensues. The masks are quickly thrown aside; the Indians prepare for the hunt with marvelous rapidity, and mounting their horses, gallop wildly down the valley to pa.s.s the eastern entrance.

In the village, where all had been enduring the utmost privation, with starvation staring them in the face, a scene of feasting and carousal would follow. Each would bring out their private stores, and the provisions that might in an emergency have lasted for several weeks would be consumed in a day. Even the dogs were not forgotten, but received a liberal share of the refuse portions of the feast.

The usual games and amus.e.m.e.nts followed, and from the deepest gloom and despondency all seemed to pa.s.s at once to the other extreme, and joy and exultation to reign supreme.

From the distance required to be traversed, the hunting parties would usually not return until the third day after their departure. Then came another scene of feasting, but this time on a far larger scale. The choicest pieces are sacrificed to appease their mysterious G.o.d, without which ceremony the Indians believe that all their future hunts would be unsuccessful. The largest portion of the meat is cured and made into tasajo, so that the proceeds of one successful hunt will often provide the entire community with food for many weeks.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Buffalo Dance.]

When I first saw the buffalo dance, I viewed it with much interest, but when continued for days and weeks, it becomes excessively wearisome from the perpetual howling din and clamor kept up, keeping the village in a continual uproar, and usually causing me to offer up most fervent prayers that the buffalo would "come," if it was only to be relieved from the noise and confusion which are occasioned by this curious ceremony.

Unlike the northern Indians, the Camanches resort to the buffalo dance only on rare occasions, but when they do undertake it, their persistence is admirable; and for this reason, the other tribes have a saying, or sort of proverb, that when the Camanches dance for "buffalo" it is a good moon to hunt, but a bad moon on the war-path. Their meaning probably is, that the buffalo are sure to "come," when the Camanches dance for them, but that the Camanches are equally sure to "go for" any other tribe who encroach upon their hunting grounds at such times.

Such is the buffalo dance; one of the most curious of the many strange customs of the prairie Indians.