Shinkah, the Osage Indian

Preface

The author was born among the western Indians and has lived for many years in close proximity to various tribes. He has observed much in their private life that is interesting and exemplary. In this volume he has tried to recite some Indian lore that is in itself a real contribution to literature and to indicate the nature of the sociology of the Osage Indians.

To a casual reader it might seem that Shinkah as a boy is too free from such mischievous activities as are characteristics of boy life in our own homes. It should be remembered, however, that in this primitive society there were not many artificial barriers against which the activities of the youthful aborigine would rebel. Group conformity would therefore be the natural order for an Indian boy placed in such environments.

If this book contributes to the perpetuity of valuable Indian lore and to a better understanding of the sociology of this tribe, its mission will have been fulfilled.

S. M. Barrett.

Claremore, Oklahoma.

February, 1915.

Chapter One. The Osage River Camp

From its head waters, in Osage County, Kansas, the Osage River flows in an easterly direction to central Missouri; there it enters the great Missouri River and thence its waters find their way into the Mississippi River and on into the Gulf of Mexico. In its lower course, near the central part of Missouri, the Osage River forms the crooked boundary line between two counties, Cole and Osage.

In one of the numerous bends of the river between Cole and Osage counties, on the south side of the stream and therefore in Osage County, a band of Osage Indians made their winter camp late one autumn more than a century ago. They were accustomed to spending the winter in this place and therefore called it their winter home.

Around the camp grounds, west, north and east, flowed the Osage River, and on the south a rugged bluff arose as a barrier against those who might seek to invade the valley from that direction. The space thus enclosed by the river and the bluffs was overgrown with dense woods. In the central portion of this valley was an open glade in which the tepees of buffalo hides were erected. All about the camp were fallen trees so that dried wood was convenient and abundant.

Thus this band of Osage Indians placed their camp so that the dense forest protected the tepees from the north winds of winter, the winding river and the rugged bluff served to protect the camp from molestation and added to the seclusion of this primitive abode.

Within a few days after their arrival at this place the whole camp was set in order and the regular routine of life began here where the Indians had frequently spent the winter in years gone by.

Soon after these Indians camped in this pleasant valley early winter with its bleak winds and killing frosts came. Then it was that the hickory and pecan trees in the groves cast their brown nuts upon the ground; on the upland above the cliffs lay bushels and bushels of walnuts under the trees where the wind had shaken them down after a still clear night when Jack Frost had played all night in the tree tops ; along the bluff, clusters of black haws hung ready to be picked and eaten ; here and there persimmon trees were standing bravely beneath their weight of ripened fruit; by the river's bank the paw-paw bushes had for a long time held up their broad leaves to protect and conceal their fruit, but the frosts caused the leaves to turn golden and then brown and the ruthless north wind blew them down, so that the ripe fruit hung from low boughs, an inviting sign that the Indians could easily read; scattered through all the forest were trees garlanded with grape vines whose purple fruit shone temptingly against a background of leaves of red and gold, and when the leaves had blown away, there in the winter sunshine hung the grapes waiting to be gathered.

Every day the Indian women and children gathered nuts and stored them away for winter use. Whenever they wished they ate of the plenteous mellow paw-paws and the luscious purple grapes. When meat was wanted the hunters killed game. In this manner, nestled in seclusion and comfort, dwelling in the midst of plenty, the Osages lived in peace.

By and by, the deep snows came and mantled the camp in white. Then one stormy night a tiny babe was born in one of these tepees. For want of the real name of the babe we shall call it child, or in the Osage Indian language, SHINKAH.

All winter the child stayed in the tepee. Usually it was tied to a board, which was the only cradle provided by the Osages for their babes. Outside the tepee the snow lay upon the ground or drifted about in the cold gusts of wind. But when springtime came, Shinkah (child) was placed outside the tepee where the other children played. When the sun shone warm and bright the babe "cooed" and smiled, and when the children at play laughed loudly in their glee, he too laughed. So in that quiet valley spring passed into summer.

One morning in early summer, these Indians left the camp. All day long the camp remained quiet. The low murmur of the gently flowing Osage River, the occasional songs of wild birds, and the much less frequent sounds of his mother's voice were all that the babe heard. In his childish way, he dimly wondered what was wrong. He had been accustomed, day by day, to watch the other children playing. Frequently he had cooed his approval of their frolicsome games and merry laughter on other days, but upon this day he could not find them

OSAGE BABY IN OSAGE CRADLE (Modern)

with his bright searching eyes, and he was lonely.

Shinkah had seen no children nor had he heard any laughter, for the very good reason that on this particular day no children were playing in the camp. All of the band of Indians, save Shinkah, who was only a tiny babe, his mother, who was not well enough to undertake the journey, and his great-grandmother, who was an invalid, had gone to another Osage Indian village to visit kindred and friends. The camp which they were to visit was in the Ozark Mountains, about fifty miles distant from their own camp.

Because it was impossible for them to go with the others these three Indians of three distinct generations were left alone in the camp on the banks of the Osage River in what is now Osage County, Missouri. Under such circumstances of course the camp was unusually quiet, but Shinkah was too young to understand the cause.

Shinkah's mother had bound him securely in his Indian cradle and propped the cradle up among the branches of a fallen tree in the shade of a mighty century-old elm that stood by her tepee of buffalo hides. Near the cradle, and under the shade of the same old elm tree, the mother placed for herself a buffalo robe. Lying upon this robe she could watch her babe, and at the same time have some oversight of her grandmother, whose tepee was on the opposite side of the open glade. As the babe cooed to himself the sick mother rested in the cool shade, and the aged grandmother sat in her lone tepee gently swaying her emaciated body to and fro with the regularity of a pendulum while she mumbled in scarcely audible tones the achievements of her ancestors as well as the legends and traditions of her tribe. Her sightless eyes seemed to look into the remote past and the distant future as a recompense for their inability to behold the beauties of the fatherland of the Osages.

At noon-time the mother arose from her sick-bed, and took some water and food to her grandmother. Returning, the mother gave Shinkah a piece of fat venison for his lunch and wearily reclined upon her buffalo robe again. The babe began at once to suck the substance from the fat meat and to swallow whatever portions of it he could detach without the aid of teeth. The child, however, soon greased his whole face and part of the cradle in fruitless efforts to return the meat to his mouth whenever he in his eagerness jerked it away. Finally in his awkwardness and eagerness he dropped the meat and a hungry dog took it. He did not worry on account of his appearance, but he "scolded" several times when the meat was lost. As his mother was asleep and no one else was near enough to say anything to him, he soon forgot his troubles.

Near Shinkah's cradle stood a sturdy redbud tree whose abundant blossoms pleased the child very much, and to this little tree and its bright appearance the child turned his attention. Before he had wearied of this pretty thing a red bird alighted on the topmost bough of a cedar tree nearby, and sang his sweetest song. Shinkah seemed to understand and appreciate the singing, too, for he interrupted the song in a very unsuccessful effort to imitate the singer. Only for a moment, however, did the song cease on account of the interruption, and then to show that he was not vexed, Mr. Red Bird began again, and sang such a joyful song that his mate came to him. Presently ,the pair flew across the river, and from the top of the tall sycamore tree, sang again. But they were so far away that Shinkah lost interest in them.

Indeed, he lost interest in everything, for grad ually his little eyes closed and he slept p« fully.

In the stillness of noon-time, the low murmur of the I i River again ros e drowsily. Ever and anon from the tops along the river ban k came 1 h e songs of bird.-, der the trees in a sheltered nook near the camp the deer nibbled the grass cautiously, and then the y went to the river for a d r i n k while a 1 1 about the meadow skipped their pretty spotted fawns free and happj could be. From the

BUFFALO HIDE , i i

shattered bough oi

a dead walnut tree that stood al rugged bluff overlooking the camp

AV

After a long time the slanting rays of the sun penetrated to Shinkah's cradle and disturbed him. Next a meddlesome fly annoyed him until he wriggled and tipped the cradle over. Then he called his mother, just as other little babes have always called their mothers, and just as they call them now. In maternal love she came to him, just as mothers have always come to their little babes, and just as they come to them now, and she took him from his cradle just as mothers have always done, and just as mothers do now. As he looked up into her eyes the dimples came back into his little brown cheeks. With chubby hands he patted his mother's breast and smiled and cooed until he finally laughed aloud in his happiness. While his mother prepared the evening meal the babe rolled on the buffalo robe and kicked, and cooed, and cooed and kicked.

When the aged grandmother had been served, the mother returned to her camp and ate some broiled venison and boiled dried corn while Shinkah again had some fat meat. When in his eagerness he dropped the meat on the robe, his mother gave it back to him, and he ate until he could eat no more. Slowly then the eveningshadows darkened the waters of the Osage River and the meadows along its banks. Silently the night came on, and the three Indians slept. Over the murmur of the waters of the Osage Rivercame the deep voiced B-r-r-r-u-m! B-r-r-r-u-m ! B-r-r-r-u-m ! of the big green bull-frog. Through the deepest forest ecnoed the Hoo ! Hoo ! Hoo ! of the great horned owl as he made ready for a night raid on the more timid and helpless birds. In tremulous wail came the lonesome howl of the wolves to announce that thieves, too, were coming forth.

When the voices of night ceased, and the first songs of the lark rang out free and clear, the aged grandmother sat up in her tepee and with sightless eyes faced the dawn. In a few moments, from the tepee of buffalo hides, the mother came forth and stirred the smouldering embers of the camp fire into life. As she cookeri their breakfast, Shinkah's awakening smile met the first rays of the morning sun and another day in the Indian camp had begun.

Days and nights like the first came and went with little variation in the Osage camp for a whole month. The mother recovered rapidly from her illness, but whether the recovery was due to the sassafras and wild cherry-bark tea she took, or to the natural resistance of her body, is a question to be settled by the modern physician and the Osage medicine-man who prescribed. But, at any rate, she was in better health each succeeding day. Shinkah soon became accustomed to the quiet, but he gradually acquired more power to supply the usual noise for the camp. Each day he grew stronger and larger. Each day was warmer than its predecessor had been and each day was nearer to the time of the home-coming, but each day seemed to carry the aged one further away from strength and life. At last one morning Shinkah stopped his cooing to listen to the joyous voices of many children as from their visit the Osages were returning. That day he watched the children at play, and he was not lonely in the Osage River Camp.

NOTES.

"Shinkah" is an Osage Indian word meaning child. Shinto- Shinkah means boy.

At the time this story begins, early part of the nineteenth century, the Osage Indians lived in Missouri. Big Track, a noted chief, with his tribe of Osages, had removed to what was then Arkansas and located near the present town of Claremore, Oklahoma. The Osages claimed the territory covering Missouri south of the Missouri River, all of Arkansas north of the Arkansas River, and much of Eastern Kansas and Oklahoma. See map, page 114.

The male deer is called a buck; the female a doe, and the young, a fawn; the meat is called venison.

QUESTIONS.

What sounds were usually heard in camp? What sounds did the child hear on the day following the departure of the tribe? Why was the camp so quiet? Why had these three Indians not accompanied the others? Find on your map the Osage River, and the Ozark Mountains. Describe the camp at noon-time; at night, and at dawn. What were the "voices of the night?"

Chapter Two

Year after year the band of Indans to which Shinkah belonged camped along the river which still bears their tribal name. During the long winter evenings the children of this band listened to the legends and traditions of the tribe as they sat on buffalo robes or rush mats about the warm fires in the tepees. Year after year visits were made to their several kindred bands of Osage Indians who camped along the Osage, Gasconade and Niangua rivers. Year after year the. band spent each summer season at the permanent village of the tribe. This village was located far up the Osage River.

Year after year the squaws planted corn, beans and pumpkins, and, when the crops were harvested, put the surplus corn in cribs and the other supplies in the lodges at the village. Year after year the warriors in a body went out on the western plains to get their supplies of meat and robes from the immense herds of buffaloes. Year after year Shinkah grew and learned. He was a good boy, and had a goo.j home among a happy and contented people.

When Shinkah was five years old, his tribe, the Great Osages, decided to visit the Arkansas Osages in their village on the Verdigris River in what was then called the Territory of Arkansas, but is now a part of the State of Oklahoma. Pawhuska (White Hair), chief of the Great Osages, called a council at which a decision was made to visit Chief Big Track in his village. An invitation to join in this visit was sent to the Little Osages. Their chief called a council, and they decided to accompany the Great Osages on their visit to the Arkansas Osages.

Several things had come into Shinkah's young life that had profoundly affected him. First in importance was his little sister, New Moon, whom he dearly loved, and for whose protection and care he felt a great responsibility. From this brotherly love and responsibility arose many duties, some of which were not easy to perform. Especially disagreeable was the duty of surrendering his playthings to his sister, and giving up to her his place in his mother's arms at night. But Shinkah tried hard, indeed, to be unselfish, and for one so young he succeeded admirably.

Early one morning in winter, Shinkah's mother went, as was her custom, to the lone tepee of her grandmother, only to learn that Death had called earlier. Then over the quiet camp arose the sounds of mourning in which friends joined. All that day Shinkah had to care for his little sister, and in the weeks that followed it seemed to him that his mother had forgotten the living, but he took care of his sister as best he could. Although the grandmother had not seemed to care for Shinkah, she had always been very fond of his little sister, and after this death it seemed to Shinkah that in some indistinct way a dreadful mystery had come close to him. Usually when his little sister asked questions Shinkah was ready to answer, but when she looked out over the drifting snow to the great-grandmother's burial mound on a high hill above the village, and asked in her simple, child-like way, "Is grandmother cold?' Shinkah had no answer.

By springtime, however, this sorrow seemed to Shinkah's mind to be removed from their immediate lives. In early summer when it was told to him that the tribe would go on a visit to the Arkansas Osages, and that he and all the family would go, he was indeed glad. He had never been on any tribal visit, for at all times since he could remember his mother had remained in camp to attend to the needs of her invalid grandmother, who was left to her sole care.

During all these years the mother had patiently cared for the aged one, and for this she had received the approval of her tribe and of her own conscience. Now, for once, she and her little ones could go with the others to enjoy the hospitality of their southern kindred. The growing crops of the tribe would be left to the care of the feeble and infirm and those who must minister to their wants, while all the others would go on to Big Track's village.

One morning Shinkah's parents made a cache in which to leave such things as could not be carried on the journey. First they removed the grass from a small circular spot and carefully laid the pieces of sod aside. Then as the father dug up the earth, the mother carried it away in baskets and cast it into the river. Larger and larger grew the circular hole as it grew deeper. At last the digging stopped, and into this cache (hiding place) were placed the extra clothing, robes, and household utensils, as well as a supply of dried pumpkin, corn and beans. First a pile of sticks was placed in the bottom of the hole and over this a buffalo skin; then the supplies, clothing and household things were packed upon this skin, and between the household goods and the dirt walls more sticks were placed. On the top of the pile thus formed another buffalo hide was placed and over this some more sticks; then dirt, and last of all the soil that had been removed. Over this spot water was poured to obliterate the traces of fresh soil and keep the replaced sod green. Then they threw a pile of dead boughs over the hiding place carelessly as if they were blown down by the wind, and the cache was complete.

Hidden there beneath the sod in the woods, free from storms and safe from thieves, with the family belongings, were all the children's things that would not be needed — Shinkah's old bow and some extra arrows, his heavy winter moccasins and mittens; New Moon's pretty buckskin dolly, painted neatly, and everything that was not actually needed on the journey.

Shinkah and New Moon thought, of course, that the time for their journey was near at hand. That night the ponies of the tribe were driven into the pens at the village, and everyone knew that on the morrow at sunrise the journey would begin.

Just at daylight the children were called to eat their breakfast, after which the mother brought her pony up near the lodge and fastened a long pole to either side of the patient animal. The ends of these poles lay on the ground several feet behind the pony. Behind the pony's heels from one pole to the other she fastened a strongbuffalo hide, thus forming a travois into which she placed supplies of dried meat and pumpkin first and afterwards some maple sugar, some earthen pots for cooking and some buffalo robefor bedding. The robes were spread over the other things and New Moon was told that on these robes she would ride.

While the mother arranged her travois, Shinkah rode about the village on his sturdy little spotted pony, anxious to be off on his long journey. But when his mother called him to her, and began to fasten poles to his pony, he protested that he was to ride with the hunters and scouts, not with the squaws. A word from his father terminated this debate, however, and the boy's lot in the line of march fell of course with the women and children. Shinkah's pony drew a travois laden with corn, a small mortar and a pestle for pounding the corn, some extra robes for the tepee and some bundles containing presents for the people whom they were going to visit.

Just behind his mother's travois, in which, seated upon the camp supplies, New Moon rode, followed Shinkah as his pony tugged along with its heavy load. Soon the pleasure of the ride, the happiness of the others, and the natural good nature of the boy, drove from the little traveler all gloom at his disappointment in not being allowed a more conspicuous place; and he chatted with his sister, as with the morning sun they began their journey.

When New Moon finally fell asleep on the buffalo robes that covered the camp supplies in her mother's travois, Shinkah turned aside and rode by the side of another small boy whose pony also drew a load, and the two boys talked as they rode. Down the valley of the Osage River they went, stopping to water the horses at a stream and to eat a lunch at noon time. About four or five o'clock in the afternoon, they came to the valley in which the scouts had planned for camp and the cavalcade halted.

This camp was in a beautiful meadow near the bank of the river. Large oak trees stood about at irregular distances and in all the valley the grass was green and tender.

First the mother tied the front feet of her pony close together so that it could not run away, detached the travois, and turned the pony loose to graze. Next she released Shinkah's pony from its load but did not hobble it by tying its feet. In this way all the ponies were soon grazing, some hobbled and some free. The mother worked on faithfully. Taking the poles of the travois, she used them for the tepee poles, and soon the buffalo hides were stretched over them and the tepee completed. In like manner the other squaws erected their tepees, and soon a village appeared.

While New Moon and Shinkah played, the mother worked on, placing things in the tepee, bringing water from the river and from the for est fallen branches of trees for fire wood. Next she started a fire by striking a piece of steel against a flint and driving sparks into tinder (dried wood fibre) until it ignited.

By and by the hunters began coming into camp, bringing whatever game they had killed. Shinkah's father brought a fat deer, and the mother dressed it and cooked venison for supper. Other hunters brought game, and, if any family did not have plenty of fresh meat,, those who had an abundance supplied the need. At last the warriors who had acted as scouts returned, and reported that no other bands of Indians were near, after which everybody in camp felt secure.

After the camp was in order, the children played around the camp fires for a long while. As darkness covered the valley, four warriors moved silently out in different directions from the camp to watch through the night. All the others retired. Very soon the tired ponies grazed in the meadow, or drank at the river, and the Indians in the camp slept. Over the sleeping Osages the four warriors kept watch. Silently the moon arose and slowly moved across the sky. Then the watchers, one by one, in silence, came into camp. The satisfied ponies, one by one, lay down on the soft grass; the dogs slept by the tepees and only the moon and stars kept watch.

Down the valley of the Osage River the tribe moved, day by day, until they were joined by the Little Osages, and then turning southward, they followed up a branch of the Osage River to its source. Next, they crossed the summit of the Ozark Mountains, and afterwards followed down the Neosho River for several days. When they left the valley of the Neosho, they traveled straight across the wooded hills and the rolling prairies toward Big Track's village on the Verdigris River.

During the entire journey the hunters rode far aside each day, and brought game to the camp at evening. Every day scouts were kept out, and in the early watches of the night warriors stood guard over the camp. Every morning the squaws took down the tepees, and every evening put them up again many miles further along their journey, usually in a green meadow by a stream.

One mornng the hunters and scouts all came back to a place where the travelers had baited. Soon Chief Big Track and a hundred warriors of his tribe rode out to meet their guests, and escort them into the village.

The chief of the Little Osages rode on one side of Big Track, and the chief of the Great Osages on the other side, while the warrors of the host, riding on in advance, acted as scouts for the visiting tribes.

After riding up another hill they came at last in sight of the village towards which, day after day, they had been traveling. There stood hundreds of Osage lodges clustered close together and by them the "big" lodge for religious and fraternal rites. Not far away a great mound (Claremore Mound) stood, just as the Blue Mound stood near Shinkah's home. On the green meadows, under leafy trees through whose boughs the darker green of mistletoe appeared, played groups and groups of happy children; along the river above the village grazed the great herd of ponies and near them were the herd-boys; in the rich alluvial valley below their homes were the fields of growing grain, and by a hundred camp fires busy squaws were preparing the feast.

Down the long hill and for miles across the low, level prairie rode the visitors and there at last the three tribes mingled in social greeting. Exclamations of gladness arose from host and guest alike, as friend met friend, after long

OSAGE INDIANS DANCING NEAR TH1 separation. Soon two other villages arose be side the former village — village of tepees on either side of the village of lodges — and two other herds of ponies grazed in the valley. Then the feast began. That night presents were exchanged among adults while children played by bright camp fires. When at length the moon arose, it looked down upon thousands of Osage Indians as they moved rythmically in the thanksgiving dance, while all around the older Indians sat and talked of happy days gone by, and joy and freedom reigned.

chapter two. NOTES

There were three divisions of Osages at this time: Great Osages, under Chief Pawhuska (White Hair) ; Little Osages, under Chief Wind, and the Arkansas Osages, under Chief Big- Track.

It was customary for Osages to mourn for their dead in a prescribed manner and for their friends to join in their ceremonies of lamentations. Burial mounds of stones were erected on high hills or mounds near their villages or camps.

The permanent village of the great Osage Indians was situated near the present town of Rich Hill, Missouri. Near this village were some natural mounds (Blue Mounds), used by the Indians for ceremonial rites and also as burial grounds. Near the village 01 Big-Track was also a large mound, (Claremore Mound), probably used for the same purposes.

In summer, each tribe lived at some permanent village and cultivated crops of corn, beans, pumpkins, tobacco, etc.

The lodges in their permanent villages were built by the men. They first erected poles in a circular manner, thatched the roof, leaving a hole in the center for smoke and also plastered the sides of the building with clay. At an early date, and sometimes even later, bark houses and tepees were used.