222 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Oct. 10, 1889- 



he ^orlmjm $lf s oiimL 



A SUMMER HUNT WITH THE PAWNEES. 



From a forthcoming volume of "Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk- 

 Tales." 



BY GEO. BIRD QBINNT3LL ("YO"). 

 I. 



IT was in the month of July, 1872. The Pawnees were 

 preparing to start on their semi-annual buffalo hunt, 

 and only the last religious rites remained to be performed 

 before the nation should leave the village for the buffalo 

 range. 



"Eh, idadi, lehoop," came from without the lodge; and 

 as I replied, "Ehya. whoops the sturdy figure of Le-ta- 

 kats-ta: -ka appeared in the doorway, 



"Lau, idacl, tut-tu-ta-rik ti-rah-rek — Come, brother, 

 they are going to dance." he said, and then he turned 

 and went out. 



I rose from the pile of robes on which I had been doz- 

 ing, and, after rolling them up, strolled out after him. 

 The village seemed deserted, but off toward the medicine 

 lodge, which stood upon its outskirts, I could see a 

 throng of Indians; and a low murmur of voices and of 

 footsteps, the hum which always accompanies any large 

 assemblage, was borne to my ears on the evening breeze. 

 The ceremonies, which comprised the consecration of the 

 buffalo staves and the buffalo dance, were about to begin . 

 The great dirt lodge was crowded. I pushed my way 

 through the throng of women and boys, who made up the 

 outer circle of spectators, and soon found myself among 

 the men, who made way for me, until I reached a posi- 

 tion from which I could see all that was going on within 

 the circle about which they stood. 



For several days~the priests and the doctors had been 

 preparing for this solemn religious ceremonial. They 

 had fasted long; earnest prayers had been made to Ti-rd- 

 wa, and sacrifices had been offered. Now the twelve buf- 

 falo skulls had been arranged on the ground in a half- 

 circle, and near them stood the chiefs and doctors, 

 reverently holding in their hands the buffalo staves and 

 sacred bows and arrows, and other implements of the 

 chase. For a little while they stood silent, with bowed 

 heads, but presently one and then another began to mirr- 

 mur their petitions to A-ti-vs Ti-ra -wa, the Spirit 

 Father. At first their voices were low and mumbling, 

 but gradually they became more earnest and lifted their 

 eyes toward heaven. It was impossible to distinguish 

 what each one said, but now and then disjointed sentences 

 reached me. "Father, you are the Ruler — We are poor — 

 Take pity on us — Send, ns plenty of buffalo, plenty of 

 fat cows— Father, we are your children— help the people 

 — send us plenty of meat, so that we may be strong, and 

 our bodies may increase and our flesh grow hard — 

 Father, you see us, listen." As they prayed they moved 

 their hands backward and forward over the implements 

 which they held, and at length reverently deposited them 

 on the ground within thedine of buffalo skulls, and then 

 stepped back, still continuing their prayers. 



It was a touching sight to witness these men calling 

 upon their God for help. All of them had passed middle 

 life, and some were gray-haired, blind and tottering; but 

 they prayed with a fervor and earnestness that compelled 

 respect. They threw their souls into their prayers, and as 

 a son might entreat his earthly father for some great gift, 

 so they pleaded with Ti-ra'-wa. Then bodies quivered 

 with emotion, and great drops of perspiration stood upon 

 their brows. They were thoroughly sincere. 



After the last of the articles had been placed upon the 

 ground, their voices grew lower and at length died away. 

 A moment later a drum sounded, and a dozen or twenty 

 young warriors sprang into the circle and began the buf- 

 falo dance. This was kept up without intermission for 

 three days, and as soon as it was over, the tribe moved 

 out of fcbc village on the hunt. 



From the village, on the Loup, we traveled southward; 

 for in those days the region between the Platte and the 

 Smoky rivers swarmed with buffalo. With the Pawnees 

 were a few Poncas, Omahas and Otoes, so that there were 

 about four thousand Indians in the camp. It was the 

 summer hunt of the tribe. Twice each year the agent 

 permitted them to visit the buffalo range. The meat 

 which they killed and dried on these hunts, the corn 

 and squashes which they grew on their farms, and the 

 small annuities received from the Government, were all 

 they had to subsist on from season to season. Thus 

 the occasion was one of importance to the Indians. Per- 

 haps only the older heads among them fully appreciated 

 its economic interest; but for all it was a holiday time; 

 a temporary escape from confinement. Life on the res- 

 ervation was monotonous. There was nothing to do 

 except to sit in the sun and smoke, and tell stories of the 

 former glories of the nation; of successful fights with 

 the Sioux and Cheyennes, and of horse stealing expedi- 

 tions, from which the heroes had returned with great 

 herds of ponies and much glory. Now, for a little while, 

 they returned to the old free life of earlier years, when 

 the land had been all their own, and they had wandered 

 at will over the broad expanse of the rolling prairie. 

 Now, for a time, it was as it had been before the corn- 

 fields of the white man had begun to dot the river bot- 

 toms, before the sound of his rifle had made wild their game, 

 before the locomotive's whistle had shrieked through 

 the still, hot summer air. Half a year's provision was 

 now to be secured. The comfort — almost the existence — 

 of the tribe for the next six months depended on the 

 accumulation of an abundant supply of dried buffalo 

 meat, and no precaution was omitted to make the bunt 

 successful. It would not do to permit each individual to 

 hunt independently. Indiscriminate buffalo running by 

 six or eight hundred men scattered over the prairie, each 

 one working for himself alone, would result in the kill- 

 ing of some few buffalo, but would terrify and drive 

 away all the others in the neighborhood. This matter was 

 too important to be trusted to chance. The hunting was 

 systematized. 



The government of the hunt was intrusted to the 

 Pawnee soldiers. These were twenty-four warriors of 

 mature age, not so old as to be unfitted for active work, 

 yet with the fires of early youth somewhat tempered by 

 years of experience: men whose judgment and. discretion 

 could at all times be relied on. These soldiers acted 

 under the chiefs, but the practical guidance of the hunt 

 was wholly in their hands. They determined the direc- 

 tion and length of each clay's march, and the spot for 



camping. They selected the young men who should act 

 as scouts, and arranged all the details of approach and 

 the charge when a herd of buffalo was discovered large 

 enough to call for a general surround. All the men were 

 under their control, and amenable to their discipline. 

 They did not hesitate to exercise then- authority, nor to 

 severely punish any one who committed an act by which 

 the success of the liunt might be imperilled. 



The scouts sent out by the soldiers were chosen from 

 among the younger men. They acted merely as spies, 

 their office was to find the buffalo. They moved rapidly 

 along, far in advance of the marching column, and from 

 the tops of the highest hills carefully scanned the country 

 before them in search of buffalo. If a herd was discerned 

 they were not to show themselves, nor in any way to 

 alarm it. Having found the game, their duty was to 

 observe its movement, learn where it was likely" to be for 

 the next few hours, and then to report as quickly as pos- 

 sible to the camp. The soldiers then determined what 

 action should be taken. If the news was received late in 

 the day, and the buffalo were at some distance, the camp 

 would probably be moved as near as practicable to where 

 the herd was feeding, and the chase would take place m 

 the early morning. If, on the other hand, the scouts 

 found the herd in the morning, the men would start off 

 at once for the surround, leaving the women to follow 

 and make camp as near as possible to where the dead 

 buffalo lay. 



Day after day we traveled southward, crossing the 

 Platte River, and then the Republican about due south 

 of the present flourishing town of Kearney. South of 

 the Platte a few scattering buffalo were found, but no 

 large herds had been met with— nothing that called for 

 a surround. At length we camped one night on the 

 Beaver, a small affluent of the Republican, emptying into 

 it from the south. 



II. 



With the gray dawn of morning, the camp, as usual, 

 is astir. By the time our little party have turned out of 

 our blankets some of the Indians have already finished 

 eating, and are catching up their horses and preparing to 

 ride off over the bluffs, leaving the squaws to take down 

 the lodges, pack the ponies, and pursue the designated 

 line of march. Before we are ready to "pull out," most 

 of the ponies have been packed, and a long, irregular 

 line of Indians is creeping across the level valley, and be- 

 ginning to wind up the face of the bluffs. The procession 

 moves slowly, proceeding at a walk. Most of those who 

 remain with the column are on foot, the squaws leading 

 the ponies, and many of the men, wrapped in their 

 blankets, and with only their bows and arrows on their 

 backs, walking briskly over the prairie, a little to one 

 side. These last are the poorer Indians — these who have 

 but few horses. They travel on foot, letting their horses 

 run without burdens, so that they may be fresh and 

 strong, whenever they shall be needed for running the 

 buffalo. 



Side by side, at the head of the column, walk eight 

 men who carry the buffalo staves. These are slender 

 spruce poles, like a short lodge-pole, wrapped with blue 

 and red cloth, and elaborately ornamented with bead 

 work, and with the feathers of hawks and of the war 

 eagle. These sticks are carried by men selected by the 

 chiefs and doctors in private council, and are religiously 

 guarded. Upon the care of these emblems, and the 

 respect paid to them, depends, in a great measure, the 

 success of the hunt. While borne before the moving 

 column, no one is permitted to cross the line of march in 

 front of them. 



Close behind the staff bearers follow a number of the 

 principal men of the tribe; the head chief, old Pi'ta Le- 

 shar, and a dozen or fifteen sub-chiefs or head men, all 

 mounted on superb horses. Behind them comes the 

 camp at large, a fantastically mingled multitude, march- 

 ing without any appearance of order. Here most of the 

 individuals are women, young girls and children, for the 

 men who accompany the camp usually march singly, or 

 by twos and threes, a little apart from the mob. Most of 

 those rich enough in horses to be able to ride at all times, 

 are scattered over the prairie for miles in every direction, 

 picking up the small bands of buffalo, which have been 

 passed by the scouts as not large enough to call for a gen- 

 eral surround. The hunters are careful, however, not to 

 follow T too close upon the advance line, whose movements 

 they can readily observe upon the bare bluffs far ahead 

 of them. 



At the time of which I am writing the Pawnees had no 

 wagons, all their possessions being transported on pack 

 horses. The Indian pack pony is apt to be old and sedate, 

 requiring no special guidance nor control. A strip of 

 rawhide, knotted about the lower jaw, serves as a bridle, 

 and is either tied up to the saddle or held in the rider's 

 hand. In packing the animals a bundle of lodge-poles is 

 tied on either side of the saddle, one end projecting for- 

 ward toward the horse's head, the other dragging on the 

 ground behind. This is the travois. Cross poles are 

 often tied between these two dragging bundles, and on 

 these are carried packages of meat and robes. Often, 

 too, on a robe stretched between them, a sick or wounded 

 Indian, unable to ride, is transported. The lodge-poles 

 having been f astened to the saddle, the lodge is folded 

 up and placed on it between them, and blankets, robes, 

 and other articles are piled on top of this until the old 

 horse has on its back what appears to be about as much 

 as it can carry. The pack is then lashed firmly in posi- 

 tion, and pots, buckets and other utensils are tied about 

 wherever there is room. 



On top of the load so arranged one or two women, or 

 three or four children, clamber and settle themselves 

 comfortably there, and the old horse is turned loose. 

 Each rider carries in her hand a whip, with which she 

 strikes the horse at every step, not cruelly at all, but just 

 from force of habit. If the pack is low, so that her feet 

 reach down to the animal's sides, she keeps up also a con- 

 stant drumming on bis ribs with her heels. The old 

 horse pays not the slightest attention to any of these 

 demonstrations of impatience, but plods steadily along at 

 a quiet walk, his eyes half closed and his ears nodding at 

 each step. If the riders are women, each one holds a 

 child or two in her arms, or on her back, or perhaps the 

 baby board is hung over the end of a lodge-pole, and 

 swings free. If the living load consists of children, they 

 have in their arms a lot of puppies; for puppies occupy 

 with relation to the small Indian girls the place which 

 dolls hold among the white children. Many of the pack 

 animals are mares with young colts, and these last, in- 

 stead of following quietly at their mothers' heels, range 



here and there, sometimes before and sometimes behind 

 their dams. They are thus constantly getting lost in the 

 crowd, and then they charge backward and forward 

 in wild affright, neighing shrilly, until they have again 

 found their place in the line of march. Many of the 

 yearling colts have very small and light packs tied on 

 then backs, while the two-year-olds are often ridden by 

 the tiniest of the Indian boys, who are now giving them 

 their first lesson in weight-carrying. Loose horses of all 

 ages roam about at will, and their continual cries mingle 

 with the barking of dogs, the calling of women and the 

 yells of boys, and make an unceasing noise. 



The boys are boiling over with animal spirits, and 

 like their civilized brothers of the same age, are con- 

 tinually running about, chasing each other, wrestling, 

 shooting arrows and playing games, of which the fam- 

 iliar stick game seems the favorite. 



Whenever the column draws near any cover, which 

 may shelter game, such as a few bushes 'in a ravine, or 

 the fringe of low willows along some little watercourse, 

 the younger men and boys scatter out and surround it. 

 They beat it in the most thorough manner, and any 

 game which it contains is driven out on the prairie, sur- 

 rounded and killed. The appearance even of a jackass 

 rabbit throws the boys into a fever of excitement, and 

 causes them to shriek and yell as if in a frenzy. 



All the morning I rode with the Indians, either at the 

 head of the column, chatting as best I could with Pi'ta 

 Le-shar and other chiefs, or falling back and riding 

 among the women and children, whom I never tired of 

 watching. Frequently during the day I saw at a dis- 

 tance, on the prairie, small bunches 'of buffalo in full 

 flight, hotly pursued by dark-skinned riders, and occa- 

 sionally two or three men would ride up to the marching 

 columns with heavy loads of freshly-killed meat. The 

 quick-heaving, wet flanks of the ponies told a story of 

 sharp, rapid chases, and their tossing heads and eayer, 

 excited looks showed how much interest they took in the 

 hunt. 



The report of firearms was seldom heard. Most of the 

 Indians himted with the primitive weapon of their fore- 

 fathers— the bow and a.riow. For buffalo running an 

 arrow is nearly as effective as lead. The power of the 

 bow in expert hands is tremendous. Riding within half a 

 dozen yards of the victim's side, the practiced bowman 

 will drive the dart so far through the body of the buffalo 

 that its shaft may project a foot or more from the oppo- 

 site side— sometimes, indeed, may pass quite through. 

 Besides, the bow can be used very rapidly and accurately. 

 I have seen an Indian take a sheaf of six arrow.-s in his 

 hand, and discharge them at a mark more rapid lv and 

 with more certainty of hitting his target than I ejtild 

 lire the six barrels of a revolver. 



m. 



It was nearly noon, and I was riding along at the head 

 of the column. I had but one horse, and did not care to 

 wear him out by chasing around over the prairie, pre- 

 ferring to save him for some great effort. We were 

 traveling along a smooth divide" between two sets of 

 ravines, which ran off, one to the east and the other to 

 the west. Pita Le-shar had just informed me by signs 

 that we should make camp about two miles further on, 

 by a stream whose course we could trace from where we 

 then were. Suddenly, without the slightest warning; 

 the huge dark bodies of half a dozen buffalo sprang into 

 view, rising out of a ravine on our left not a hundred 

 yards distant. When they saw the multitude before 

 them, they stopped and stared at us. 



They were too close for me to resist the temptation to 

 pursue. As I lifted the reins from my pony's neck and 

 bent forward, the little animal sprang into a sharp gallop 

 toward the game, and as he did so I saw half a dozen 

 Indians shoot out from the column and follow me. The 

 buffalo wheeled, and in an instant were out of sight, but 

 when I reached the edge of the bank down which they 

 had plunged, I could see through the cloud of dust, which 

 they left behind them, their uncouth forms dashing down 

 the ravine. My nimble pony, as eager for the race as his 

 rider, hurled himself down the deep pitch, and sped along 

 the narrow broken bed of the gully. I could feel that 

 sometimes he would lengthen his stride to leap wide 

 ditches, wiiere the water from some side ravine had cut 

 away the ground, but I never knew of these until they 

 were passed. My eyes were fixed on the fleeing herd; 

 my ears were intent on the pursuing horsemen. Close 

 behind me I could hear the quick pounding of many 

 hoofs, and could feel that one of the horses, nearer than 

 the rest, was steadily drawing up to me — but I was gain- 

 ing on the buffalo. Already the confused rumble of their 

 hoof -beats almost drowned those of the horses behind me, 

 and the air was full of the dust and small pebbles thrown 

 up by their hurrying feet. But they were still ahead of 

 me, and the gulch was so narrow that I could not shoot. 

 The leading horseman drew nearer and nearer, and was 

 now almost at my side. I could see the lean head and 

 long, slim neck of his pony under my right arm, and 

 could hear the rider speak to his horse and urge him f or- 

 ward in the race. My horse did his best, but the other 

 had the most speed. He shot by me, and a moment later 

 was alongside the last buffalo. 



As he passed me the young Indian made a laughing 

 gesture of triumph, slipped an arrow on his bowstring, 

 and drew it to its head; but just as he was about to let it 

 fly, his horse, which was but a colt, took fright at the 

 huge animal which it had overtaken, and shied violently 

 to the right, almost unseating its rider. At the same 

 moment the buffalo swerved a little to the left, and thus 

 lost a few feet. Truly, the race is not always to the 

 swift. As I passed the Indian, I could not restrain a little 

 whoop of satisfaction, and then swinging my rifle around, 

 I fired. The buffalo fell in its stride, tossing up a mighty 

 cloud of the soft yellow earth, and my pony ran by him 

 fifty yards before he could be checked. Then I turned 

 and rode back to look at the game. The other Indians 

 had passed me like a whirlwind, and, close at the heels 

 of the herd, had swept around a point of bluff and out of 

 sight. Only my rival remained, and he was excitedly 

 arguing with his horse. The logic of a whip -handle, ap- 

 plied with vigor about the creature's ears, convinced it 

 that it must approach the dead buffalo; and then the 

 rider dismounting, and passing his lariat about the ani- 

 mal's horns, drew the pony's head to within a few feet of 

 the terrifying mass, and fastened the rope. When he had 

 accomplished this, he grinned pleasantly at me, and I 

 responded in kind, and in dumb show transferred to him 

 all my right and title in the dead buffalo. At this he 



