Introduction

Introduction

In the fall of 1890 the author was preparing to go to Indian Territory, under the auspices of the Bureau of Ethnology, to continue researches among the Cherokee, when the Ghost dance began to attract attention, and permission was asked and received to investigate that subject also among the wilder tribes in the western part of the territory. Proceeding directly to the Cheyenne and Arapaho, it soon became evident that there was more in the Ghost dance than had been suspected, with the result that the investigation, to which it had been intended to devote only a few weeks, has extended over a period of more than three years, and might be continued indefinitely, as the dance still exists (in 1896) and is developing new features at every performance. The uprising among the Sioux in the meantime made necessary also the examination of a mass of documentary material in the files of the Indian Office and the War Department bearing on the outbreak, in addition to the study in the field of the strictly religious features of the dance.

The first visit of about four months (December, 1890–April, 1891) was made to the Arapaho, Cheyenne, Kiowa, Comanche, Apache, Caddo, and Wichita, all living near together in the western part of what was then Indian Territory, but is now Oklahoma. These tribes were all more or less under the influence of the new religion. The principal study was made among the Arapaho, who were the most active propagators of the “Messiah” doctrine among the southern tribes and are especially friendly and cordial in disposition.

On returning to Washington, the author received a commission to make an ethnologic collection for the World’s Columbian Exposition, and, selecting the Kiowa for that purpose as a representative prairie tribe, started out again almost immediately to the same field. This trip, lasting three months, gave further opportunity for study of the Ghost dance among the same tribes. After returning and attending to the labeling and arranging of the collection, a study was made of all documents bearing on the subject in possession of the Indian Office and the War Department. Another trip was then made to the field for the purpose of investigating the dance among the Sioux, where it had attracted most attention, and among the Paiute, where it originated. On this journey the author visited the Omaha, Winnebago, Sioux of Pine Ridge, Paiute, Cheyenne, and Arapaho; met and talked with the messiah himself, and afterward, on the strength of this fact, obtained from the Cheyenne the original letter containing his message and instructions to the southern tribes. This trip occupied about three months.

A few months later, in the summer of 1892, another journey was made to the West, in the course of which the southern tribes and the Sioux were revisited, and some time was spent in Wyoming with the Shoshoni and northern Arapaho, the latter of whom were perhaps the most earnest followers of the messiah in the north. This trip consumed four months. After some time spent in Washington in elaborating notes already obtained, a winter trip (1892–93) was made under another commission from the World’s Fair to the Navaho and the Hopi or Moki, of New Mexico and Arizona. Although these tribes were not directly concerned in the Ghost dance, they had been visited by apostles of the new doctrine, and were able to give some account of the ceremony as it existed among the Havasupai or Cohonino and others farther to the west. On the return journey another short stay was made among the Kiowa and Arapaho. In the summer of 1893 a final visit, covering a period of five months, was made to the western tribes of Oklahoma, bringing the personal observation and study of the Ghost dance down to the beginning of 1894.

The field investigation therefore occupied twenty-two months, involving nearly 32,000 miles of travel and more or less time spent with about twenty tribes. To obtain exact knowledge of the ceremony, the author took part in the dance among the Arapaho and Cheyenne. He also carried a kodak and a tripod camera, with which he made photographs of the dance and the trance both without and within the circle. Several months were spent in consulting manuscript documents and printed sources of information in the departments and libraries at Washington, and correspondence was carried on with persons in various parts of the country who might be able to give additional facts. From the beginning every effort was made to get a correct statement of the subject. Beyond this, the work must speak for itself.

As the Ghost dance doctrine is only the latest of a series of Indian religious revivals, and as the idea on which it is founded is a hope common to all humanity, considerable space has been given to a discussion of the primitive messiah belief and of the teachings of the various Indian prophets who have preceded Wovoka, together with brief sketches of several Indian wars belonging to the same periods.

In the songs the effort has been to give the spirit and exact rendering, without going into analytic details. The main purpose of the work is not linguistic, and as nearly every tribe concerned speaks a different language from all the others, any close linguistic study must be left to the philologist who can afford to devote a year or more to an individual tribe. The only one of these tribes of which the author claims intimate knowledge is the Kiowa.

Acknowledgments are due the officers and members of the Office of Indian Affairs and the War Department for courteous assistance in obtaining documentary information and in replying to letters of inquiry; to Mr De Lancey W. Gill and Mr J. K. Hillers and their assistants of the art and photographic divisions of the United States Geological Survey; to Mr A. R. Spofford, Librarian of Congress; to Mr F. V. Coville, botanist, Agricultural Department; Honorable T. J. Morgan, former Commissioner of Indian Affairs; Major J. W. MacMurray, first artillery, United States Army; Dr Washington Matthews, surgeon, United States Army; Captain H. L. Scott, seventh cavalry, United States Army; Captain J. M. Lee, ninth infantry, United States Army; Captain E. L. Huggins, second cavalry, United States Army, of the staff of General Miles; the late Captain J. G. Bourke, third cavalry, United States Army; Captain H. G. Browne, twelfth infantry, United States Army; Judge James Wickersham, Tacoma, Washington; Dr George Bird Grinnell, editor of “Forest and Stream,” New York city; Mr Thomas V. Keam and the late A. M. Stephen, Keams Canyon, Arizona; Rev. H. R. Voth, Oraibi, Arizona; General L. W. Colby, Washington, District of Columbia; Mr D. B. Dyer, Augusta, Georgia; Rev. Myron Eells, Tacoma, Washington; Mr Emile Berliner and the Berliner Gramophone Company, for recording, and Professors John Philip Sousa and F. W. V. Gaisberg, for arranging the Indian music; W. S. Godbe, Bullionville, Nevada; Miss L. McLain, Washington City; Addison Cooper, Nashville, Tennessee; Miss Emma C. Sickels, Chicago; Professor A. H. Thompson, United States Geological Survey, Washington; Mrs L. B. Arnold, Standing Rock, North Dakota; Mr C. H. Bartlett, South Bend, Indiana; Dr T. P. Martin, Taos, New Mexico, and to the following Indian informants and interpreters: Philip Wells, Louis Menard, Ellis Standing Bear, American Horse, George Sword, and Fire Thunder, of Pine Ridge, South Dakota; Henry Reid, Rev. Sherman Coolidge, Norcok, Sage, and Sharp Nose, of Fort Washakie, Wyoming; Charley Sheep of Walker river, Nevada; Black Coyote, Sitting Bull, Black Short Nose, George Bent, Paul Boynton, Robert Burns, Jesse Bent, Clever Warden, Grant Left-hand, and the Arapaho police at Darlington, Oklahoma; Andres Martinez, Belo Cozad, Paul Setkopti, Henry Poloi, Little Bow, William Tivis, George Parton, Towakoni Jim, Robert Dunlap, Kichai, John Wilson, Tama, Igiagyahona, Deoñ, Mary Zotom, and Eliza Parton of Anadarko, Oklahoma.

THE NARRATIVE

+Chapter I+

PARADISE LOST

There are hours long departed which memory brings Like blossoms of Eden to twine round the heart. Moore.

The wise men tell us that the world is growing happier—that we live longer than did our fathers, have more of comfort and less of toil, fewer wars and discords, and higher hopes and aspirations. So say the wise men; but deep in our own hearts we know they are wrong. For were not we, too, born in Arcadia, and have we not—each one of us—in that May of life when the world was young, started out lightly and airily along the path that led through green meadows to the blue mountains on the distant horizon, beyond which lay the great world we were to conquer? And though others dropped behind, have we not gone on through morning brightness and noonday heat, with eyes always steadily forward, until the fresh grass began to be parched and withered, and the way grew hard and stony, and the blue mountains resolved into gray rocks and thorny cliffs? And when at last we reached the toilsome summits, we found the glory that had lured us onward was only the sunset glow that fades into darkness while we look, and leaves us at the very goal to sink down, tired in body and sick at heart, with strength and courage gone, to close our eyes and dream again, not of the fame and fortune that were to be ours, but only of the old-time happiness that we have left so far behind.

As with men, so is it with nations. The lost paradise is the world’s dreamland of youth. What tribe or people has not had its golden age, before Pandora’s box was loosed, when women were nymphs and dryads and men were gods and heroes? And when the race lies crushed and groaning beneath an alien yoke, how natural is the dream of a redeemer, an Arthur, who shall return from exile or awake from some long sleep to drive out the usurper and win back for his people what they have lost. The hope becomes a faith and the faith becomes the creed of priests and prophets, until the hero is a god and the dream a religion, looking to some great miracle of nature for its culmination and accomplishment. The doctrines of the Hindu avatar, the Hebrew Messiah, the Christian millennium, and the Hesûnanin of the Indian Ghost dance are essentially the same, and have their origin in a hope and longing common to all humanity.

Probably every Indian tribe, north and south, had its early hero god, the great doer or teacher of all first things, from the Inskeha and Manabozho of the rude Iroquoian and Algonquian to the Quetzalcoatl, the Bochica, and the Viracocha of the more cultivated Aztecs, Muyscas, and Quichuas of the milder southland. Among the roving tribes of the north this hero is hardly more than an expert magician, frequently degraded to the level of a common trickster, who, after ridding the world of giants and monsters, and teaching his people a few simple arts, retires to the upper world to rest and smoke until some urgent necessity again requires his presence below. Under softer southern skies the myth takes more poetic form and the hero becomes a person of dignified presence, a father and teacher of his children, a very Christ, worthy of all love and reverence, who gathers together the wandering nomads and leads them to their destined country, where he instructs them in agriculture, house building, and the art of government, regulates authority, and inculcates peaceful modes of life. “Under him, the earth teemed with fruits and flowers without the pains of culture. An ear of Indian corn was as much as a single man could carry. The cotton, as it grew, took of its own accord the rich dyes of human art. The air was filled with intoxicating perfumes and the sweet melody of birds. In short, these were the halcyon days, which find a place in the mythic systems of so many nations in the Old World. It was the golden age of Anahuac.” (Prescott, 1.)[1] When at last his work is well accomplished, he bids farewell to his sorrowing subjects, whom he consoles with the sacred promise that he will one day return and resume his kingdom, steps into his magic boat by the seashore, and sails away out of their sight to the distant land of sunrise.

Such was Quetzalcoatl of the Aztecs, and such in all essential respects was the culture god of the more southern semicivilized races. Curiously enough, this god, at once a Moses and a messiah, is usually described as a white man with flowing beard. From this and other circumstances it has been argued that the whole story is only another form of the dawn myth, but whether the Indian god be an ancient deified lawgiver of their own race, or some nameless missionary who found his way across the trackless ocean in the early ages of Christianity, or whether we have here only a veiled parable of the morning light bringing life and joy to the world and then vanishing to return again from the east with the dawn, it is sufficient to our purpose that the belief in the coming of a messiah, who should restore them to their original happy condition, was well nigh universal among the American tribes.

This faith in the return of a white deliverer from the east opened the gate to the Spaniards at their first coming alike in Haiti, Mexico, Yucatan, and Peru. (Brinton, 1.) The simple native welcomed the white strangers as the children or kindred of their long-lost benefactor, immortal beings whose near advent had been foretold by oracles and omens, whose faces borrowed from the brightness of the dawn, whose glistening armor seemed woven from the rays of sunlight, and whose god-like weapons were the lightning and the thunderbolt. Their first overbearing demands awakened no resentment; for may not the gods claim their own, and is not resistance to the divine will a crime? Not until their most sacred things were trampled under foot, and the streets of the holy city itself ran red with the blood of their slaughtered princes, did they read aright the awful prophecy by the light of their blazing temples, and know that instead of the children of an incarnate god they had welcomed a horde of incarnate devils. “The light of civilization would be poured on their land. But it would be the light of a consuming fire, before which their barbaric glory, their institutions, their very existence and name as a nation, would wither and become extinct. Their doom was sealed when the white man had set his foot on their soil.” (Prescott, 2.)

The great revolt of the Pueblo Indians in August, 1680, was one of the first determined efforts made by the natives on the northern continent to throw off the yoke of a foreign oppressor. The Pueblo tribes along the Rio Grande and farther to the west, a gentle, peaceful race, had early welcomed the coming of the Spaniards, with their soldiers and priests, as friends who would protect them against the wild marauding tribes about them and teach them the mysteries of a greater “medicine” than belonged to their own kachinas. The hope soon faded into bitter disappointment. The soldiers, while rough and overbearing toward their brown-skin allies, were yet unable to protect them from the inroads of their enemies. The priests prohibited their dances and simple amusements, yet all their ringing of bells and chanting of hymns availed not to bring more rain on the crops or to turn aside the vengeful Apache. “What have we gained by all this?” said the Pueblos one to another; “not peace and not happiness, for these new rulers will not protect us from our enemies, and take from us all the enjoyments we once knew.”

The pear was ripe. Popé, a medicine-man of the Tewa, had come back from a pilgrimage to the far north, where he claimed to have visited the magic lagoon of Shipapu, whence his people traced their origin and to which the souls of their dead returned after leaving this life. By these ancestral spirits he had been endowed with occult powers and commanded to go back and rouse the Pueblos to concerted effort for deliverance from the foreign yoke of the strangers.

Wonderful beings were these spirit messengers. Swift as light and impalpable as thought, they passed under the earth from the magic lake to the secret subterranean chamber of the oracle and stood before him as shapes of fire, and spoke, telling him to prepare the strings of yucca knots and send them with the message to all the Pueblos far and near, so that in every village the chiefs might untie one knot from the string each day, and know when they came to the last knot that then was the time to strike.

From the Pecos, across the Rio Grande to Zuñi and the far-distant Hopi mesas, every Pueblo village accepted the yucca string and began secret preparation for the rising. The time chosen was the new moon of August, 1680, but, through a partial discovery of the plot, the explosion was precipitated on the 10th. So sudden and complete was the surprise that many Spaniards in the Pueblo country, priests, soldiers, and civilians, were killed, and the survivors, after holding out for a time under Governor Otermin at Santa Fé, fled to El Paso, and in October there remained not a single Spaniard in all New Mexico. (Bandelier, 1a, 1b.)

Despite their bitter disappointment, the southern nations continued to cherish the hope of a coming redeemer, who now assumed the character of a terrible avenger of their wrongs, and the white-skin conqueror has had bloody occasion to remember that his silent peon, as he toils by blue Chapala or sits amid the ruins of his former grandeur in the dark forests of Yucatan, yet waits ever and always the coming of the day which shall break the power of the alien Spaniard and restore to their inheritance the children of Anahuac and Mayapan. In Peru the natives refused to believe that the last of the Incas had perished a wanderer in the forests of the eastern Cordilleras. For more than two centuries they cherished the tradition that he had only retired to another kingdom beyond the mountains, from which he would return in his own good time to sweep their haughty oppressors from the land. In 1781 the slumbering hope found expression in a terrible insurrection under the leadership of the mestizo Condorcanqui, a descendant of the ancient royal family, who boldly proclaimed himself the long lost Tupac Amaru, child of the sun and Inca of Peru. With mad enthusiasm the Quichua highlanders hailed him as their destined deliverer and rightful sovereign, and binding around his forehead the imperial fillet of the Incas, he advanced at the head of an immense army to the walls of Cuzco, declaring his purpose to blot out the very memory of the white man and reestablish the Indian empire in the City of the Sun. Inspired by the hope of vengeance on the conqueror, even boys became leaders of their people, and it was only after a bloody struggle of two years’ duration that the Spaniards were able to regain the mastery and consigned the captive Inca, with all his family, to an ignominious and barbarous death. Even then so great was the feeling of veneration which he had inspired in the breasts of the Indians that “notwithstanding their fear of the Spaniards, and though they were surrounded by soldiers of the victorious army, they prostrated themselves at the sight of the last of the children of the sun, as he passed along the streets to the place of execution.” (Humboldt, 1.)

In the New World, as in the Old, the advent of the deliverer was to be heralded by signs and wonders. Thus in Mexico, a mysterious rising of the waters of Lake Tezcuco, three comets blazing in the sky, and a strange light in the east, prepared the minds of the people for the near coming of the Spaniards. (Prescott, 3.) In this connection, also, there was usually a belief in a series of previous destructions by flood, fire, famine, or pestilence, followed by a regeneration, through, the omnipotent might of the savior. The doctrine that the world is old and worn out, and that the time for its renewal is near at hand, is an essential part of the teaching of the Ghost dance. The number of these cycles of destruction was variously stated among different tribes, but perhaps the most sadly prophetic form of the myth was found among the Winnebago, who forty years ago held that the tenth generation of their people was near its close, and that at the end of the thirteenth the red race would be destroyed. By prayers and ceremonies they were then endeavoring to placate their angry gods and put farther away the doom that now seems rapidly closing in on them. (Schoolcraft, Ind. Tribes, 1.)

+Chapter II+

THE DELAWARE PROPHET AND PONTIAC

Hear what the Great Spirit has ordered me to tell you: Put off entirely the customs which you have adopted since the white people came among us.—The Delaware Prophet.

This is our land, and not yours.—The Confederate Tribes, 1752.

The English advances were slow and halting, for a long period almost imperceptible, while the establishment of a few small garrisons and isolated trading stations by the French hardly deserved to be called an occupancy of the country. As a consequence, the warlike northern tribes were slow to realize that an empire was slipping from their grasp, and it was not until the two great nations prepared for the final struggle in the New World that the native proprietors began to read the stars aright. Then it was, in 1752, that the Lenape chiefs sent to the British agent the pointed interrogatory: “The English claim all on one side of the river, the French claim all on the other—where is the land of the Indians?” (Bancroft, 1.) Then, as they saw the French strengthening themselves along the lakes, there came a stronger protest from the council ground of the confederate tribes of the west: “This is our land and not yours. Fathers, both you and the English are white; the land belongs to neither the one nor the other of you, but the Great Being above allotted it to be a dwelling place for us; so, fathers, I desire you to withdraw, as I have desired our brothers, the English.” A wampum belt gave weight to the words. (Bancroft, 2.) The French commander’s reply was blunt, but more practiced diplomats assured the red men that all belonged to the Indian, and that the great king of the French desired only to set up a boundary against the further encroachments of the English, who would otherwise sweep the red tribes from the Ohio as they had already driven them from the Atlantic. The argument was plausible. In every tribe were French missionaries, whose fearless courage and devotion had won the admiration and love of the savage; in every village was domiciliated a hardy voyageur, with his Indian wife and family of children, in whose veins commingled the blood of the two races and whose ears were attuned alike to the wild songs of the forest and the rondeaus of Normandy or Provence. It was no common tie that bound together the Indians and the French, and when a governor of Canada and the general of his army stepped into the circle of braves to dance the war dance and sing the war song with their red allies, thirty-three wild tribes declared on the wampum belt, “The French are our brothers and their king is our father. We will try his hatchet upon the English” (Bancroft, 3), and through seven years of blood and death the lily and the totem were borne abreast until the flag of France went down forever on the heights of Quebec.

For some time after the surrender the unrest of the native tribes was soothed into a semblance of quiet by the belief, artfully inculcated by their old allies, that the king of France, wearied by his great exertions, had fallen asleep for a little while, but would soon awake to take vengeance on the English for the wrongs they had inflicted on his red children. Then, as they saw English garrisons occupying the abandoned posts and English traders passing up the lakes even to the sacred island of the Great Turtle, the despairing warriors said to one another, “We have been deceived. English and French alike are white men and liars. We must turn from both and seek help from our Indian gods.”

In 1762 a prophet appeared among the Delawares, at Tuscarawas, on the Muskingum, who preached a union of all the red tribes and a return to the old Indian life, which he declared to be the divine command, as revealed to himself in a wonderful vision. From an old French manuscript, written by an anonymous eyewitness of the scene which he describes, we have the details of this vision, as related by Pontiac to his savage auditors at the great council of the tribes held near Detroit in April, 1763. Parkman gives the story on the authority of this manuscript, which he refers to as the “Pontiac manuscript,” and states that it was long preserved in a Canadian family at Detroit, and afterward deposited with the Historical Society of Michigan. It bears internal evidence of genuineness, and is supposed to have been written by a French priest. (Parkman, 1.) The vision, from the same manuscript, is related at length in Schoolcraft’s Algic Researches.

According to the prophet’s story, being anxious to know the “Master of Life,” he determined, without mentioning his desire to anyone, to undertake a journey to the spirit world. Ignorant of the way, and not knowing any person who, having been there, could direct him, he performed a mystic rite in the hope of receiving some light as to the course he should pursue. He then fell into a deep sleep, in which he dreamed that it was only necessary to begin his journey and that by continuing to walk forward he would at last arrive at his destination.

Early the next morning, taking his gun, ammunition, and kettle, he started off, firmly convinced that by pressing onward without discouragement he should accomplish his object. Day after day he proceeded without incident, until at sunset of the eighth day, while preparing to encamp for the night by the side of a small stream in a little opening in the forest, he noticed, running out from the edge of the prairie, three wide and well-trodden paths. Wondering somewhat that they should be there, he finished his temporary lodging and, lighting a fire, began to prepare his supper. While thus engaged, he observed with astonishment that the paths became more distinct as the night grew darker. Alarmed at the strange appearance, he was about to abandon his encampment and seek another at a safer distance, when he remembered his dream and the purpose of his journey. It seemed to him that one of these roads must lead to the place of which he was in search, and he determined, therefore, to remain where he was until morning, and then take one of the three and follow it to the end. Accordingly, the next morning, after a hasty meal, he left his encampment, and, burning with the ardor of discovery, took the widest path, which he followed until noon, when he suddenly saw a large fire issuing apparently from the earth. His curiosity being aroused, he went toward it, but the fire increased to such a degree that he became frightened and turned back.

He now took the next widest of the three paths, which he followed as before until noon, when a similar fire again drove him back and compelled him to take the third road, which he kept a whole day without meeting anything unusual, when suddenly he saw a precipitous mountain of dazzling brightness directly in his path. Recovering from his wonder, he drew near and examined it, but could see no sign of a road to the summit. He was about to give way to disappointment, when, looking up, he saw seated a short distance up the mountain a woman of bright beauty and clad in snow-white garments, who addressed him in his own language, telling him that on the summit of the mountain was the abode of the Master of Life, whom he had journeyed so far to meet. “But to reach it,” said she, “you must leave all your cumbersome dress and equipments at the foot, then go and wash in the river which I show you, and afterward ascend the mountain.”

He obeyed her instructions, and on asking how he could hope to climb the mountain, which, was steep and slippery as glass, she replied that in order to mount he must use only his left hand and foot. This seemed to him almost impossible, but, encouraged by the woman, he began to climb, and at length, after much difficulty, reached the top. Here the woman suddenly vanished, and he found himself alone without a guide. On looking about, he saw before him a plain, in the midst of which were three villages, with well-built houses disposed in orderly arrangement. He bent his steps toward the principal one, but after going a short distance he remembered that he was naked, and was about to turn back when a voice told him that as he had washed himself in the river he might go on without fear. Thus bidden, he advanced without hesitation to the gate of the village, where he was admitted and saw approaching a handsome man in white garments, who offered to lead him into the presence of the Master of Life. Admiring the beauty of everything about him, he was then conducted to the Master of Life, who took him by the hand and gave him for a seat a hat bordered with gold. Afraid of spoiling the hat, he hesitated to sit down until again told to do so, when he obeyed, and the Master of Life thus addressed him:

I am the Master of Life, whom you wish to see and with whom you wish to speak. Listen to what I shall tell you for yourself and for all the Indians.

He then commanded him to exhort his people to cease from drunkenness, wars, polygamy, and the medicine song, and continued:

The land on which you are, I have made for you, not for others. Wherefore do you suffer the whites to dwell upon your lands? Can you not do without them? I know that those whom you call the children of your Great Father [the King of France] supply your wants; but were you not wicked as you are you would not need them. You might live as you did before you knew them. Before those whom you call your brothers [the French] had arrived, did not your bow and arrow maintain you? You needed neither gun, powder, nor any other object. The flesh of animals was your food; their skins your raiment. But when I saw you inclined to evil, I removed the animals into the depths of the forest that you might depend on your brothers for your necessaries, for your clothing. Again become good and do my will and I will send animals for your sustenance. I do not, however, forbid suffering among you your Father’s children. I love them; they know me; they pray to me. I supply their own wants, and give them that which they bring to you. Not so with those who are come to trouble your possessions [the English]. Drive them away; wage war against them; I love them not; they know me not; they are my enemies; they are your brothers’ enemies. Send them back to the lands I have made for them. Let them remain there. (Schoolcraft, Alg. Res., 1.)

The Master of Life then gave him a prayer, carved in Indian hieroglyphics upon a wooden stick, which he was told to deliver to his chief on returning to earth. (Parkman, 2.) His instructor continued:

Learn it by heart, and teach it to all the Indians and children. It must be repeated morning and evening. Do all that I have told thee, and announce it to all the Indians as coming from the Master of Life. Let them drink but one draught, or two at most, in one day. Let them have but one wife, and discontinue running after other people’s wives and daughters. Let them not fight one another. Let them not sing the medicine song, for in singing the medicine song they speak to the evil spirit. Drive from your lands those dogs in red clothing; they are only an injury to you. When you want anything, apply to me, as your brothers do, and I will give to both. Do not sell to your brothers that which I have placed on the earth as food. In short, become good, and you shall want nothing. When you meet one another, bow and give one another the [left] hand of the heart. Above all, I command thee to repeat morning and evening the prayer which I have given thee.

The Indian received the prayer, promising to do as he had been commanded and to recommend the same course to others. His former conductor then came and, leading him to the foot of the mountain, bid him resume his garments and go back to his village. His return excited much surprise among his friends, who had supposed him lost. They asked him where he had been, but as he had been commanded to speak to no one until he had seen the chief, he motioned with his hand to signify that he had come from above. On entering the village he went at once to the wigwam of the chief, to whom he delivered the prayer and the message which he had received from the Master of Life. (Schoolcraft, Alg. Res., 2.)

Although the story as here given bears plain impress of the white man’s ideas, it is essentially aboriginal. While the discrimination expressed by the Master of Life in favor of the French and against the English may have been due to the fact that the author of the manuscript was a Frenchman, it is more probable that we have here set forth only the well-known preference of the wild tribes. The occupancy of a region by the English always meant the speedy expulsion of the natives. The French, on the contrary, lived side by side with the red men, joining in their dances and simple amusements, and entering with fullest sympathy into their wild life, so that they were regarded rather as brethren of an allied tribe than as intruders of an alien race. This feeling is well indicated in the prophet’s narrative, where the Indians, while urged to discard everything that they have adopted from the whites, are yet to allow the French to remain among them, though exhorted to relentless war on the English. The difference received tragic exemplification at Michilimackinac a year later, when a handful of French traders looked on unarmed and unhurt while a crew of maddened savages were butchering, scalping, and drinking the blood of British soldiers. The introduction of the trivial incident of the hat is characteristically Indian, and the confounding of dreams and visions with actual happenings is a frequent result of mental exaltation of common occurrence in the history of religious enthusiasts. The Delaware prophet regards the whole experience as an actual fact instead of a distempered vision induced by long fasts and vigils, and the hieroglyphic prayer—undoubtedly graven by himself while under the ecstasy—is to him a real gift from heaven. The whole story is a striking parallel of the miraculous experiences recounted by the modern apostles of the Ghost dance. The prayer-stick also and the heavenly map, later described and illustrated, reappear in the account of Känakûk, the Kickapoo prophet, seventy years afterward, showing in a striking manner the continuity of aboriginal ideas and methods.

The celebrated missionary, Heckewelder, who spent fifty years among the Delawares, was personally acquainted with this prophet and gives a detailed account of his teachings and of his symbolic parchments. He says:

In the year 1762 there was a famous preacher of the Delaware nation, who resided at Cayahaga, near Lake Erie, and travelled about the country, among the Indians, endeavouring to persuade them that he had been appointed by the Great Spirit to instruct them in those things that were agreeable to him, and point out to them the offences by which they had drawn his displeasure on themselves, and the means by which they might recover his favour for the future. He had drawn, as he pretended, by the direction of the Great Spirit, a kind of map on a piece of deerskin, somewhat dressed like parchment, which he called “the great Book or Writing.” This, he said, he had been ordered to shew to the Indians, that they might see the situation in which the Mannitto had originally placed them, the misery which they had brought upon themselves by neglecting their duty, and the only way that was now left them to regain what they had lost. This map he held before him while preaching, frequently pointing to particular marks and spots upon it, and giving explanations as he went along.

The size of this map was about fifteen inches square, or, perhaps, something more. An inside square was formed by lines drawn within it, of about eight inches each way; two of these lines, however, were not closed by about half an inch at the corners. Across these inside lines, others of about an inch in length were drawn with sundry other lines and marks, all which was intended to represent a strong inaccessible barrier, to prevent those without from entering the space within, otherwise than at the place appointed for that purpose. When the map was held as he directed, the corners which were not closed lay at the left-hand side, directly opposite to each other, the one being at the southeast by south, and the nearest at the northeast by north. In explaining or describing the particular points on this map, with his fingers always pointing to the place he was describing, he called the space within the inside lines “the heavenly regions,” or the place destined by the Great Spirit for the habitation of the Indians in future life. The space left open at the southeast corner he called the “avenue,” which had been intended for the Indians to enter into this heaven, but which was now in the possession of the white people; wherefore the Great Spirit had since caused another “avenue” to be made on the opposite side, at which, however, it was both difficult and dangerous for them to enter, there being many impediments in their way, besides a large ditch leading to a gulf below, over which they had to leap; but the evil spirit kept at this very spot a continual watch for Indians, and whoever he laid hold of never could get away from him again, but was carried to his regions, where there was nothing but extreme poverty; where the ground was parched up by the heat for want of rain, no fruit came to perfection, the game was almost starved for want of pasture, and where the evil spirit, at his pleasure, transformed men into horses and dogs, to be ridden by him and follow him in his hunts and wherever he went.

The space on the outside of this interior square was intended to represent the country given to the Indians to hunt, fish, and dwell in while in this world; the east side of it was called the ocean or “great salt-water lake.” Then the preacher, drawing the attention of his hearers particularly to the southeast avenue, would say to them, “Look here! See what we have lost by neglect and disobedience; by being remiss in the expression of our gratitude to the Great Spirit for what he has bestowed upon us; by neglecting to make to him sufficient sacrifices; by looking upon a people of a different colour from our own, who had come across a great lake, as if they were a part of ourselves; by suffering them to sit down by our side, and looking at them with indifference, while they were not only taking our country from us, but this (pointing to the spot), this, our own avenue, leading into those beautiful regions which were destined for us. Such is the sad condition to which we are reduced. What is now to be done, and what remedy is to be applied? I will tell you, my friends. Hear what the Great Spirit has ordered me to tell you! You are to make sacrifices, in the manner that I shall direct; to put off entirely from yourselves the customs which you have adopted since the white people came among us. You are to return to that former happy state, in which we lived in peace and plenty, before these strangers came to disturb us; and, above all, you must abstain from drinking their deadly beson, which they have forced upon us, for the sake of increasing their gains and diminishing our numbers. Then will the Great Spirit give success to our arms; then he will give us strength to conquer our enemies, to drive them from hence, and recover the passage to the heavenly regions which they have taken from us.”

Such was in general the substance of his discourses. After having dilated more or less on the various topics which I have mentioned, he commonly concluded in this manner: “And now, my friends, in order that what I have told you may remain firmly impressed on your minds, and to refresh your memories from time to time, I advise you to preserve, in every family at least, such a book or writing as this, which I will finish off for you, provided you bring me the price, which is only one buckskin or two doeskins apiece.” The price was of course bought (sic), and the book purchased. In some of those maps, the figure of a deer or turkey, or both, was placed in the heavenly regions, and also in the dreary region of the evil spirit. The former, however, appeared fat and plump, while the latter seemed to have nothing but skin and bones. (Heckewelder, 1.)

From the narrative of John McCullough, who had been taken by the Indians when a child of 8 years, and lived for some years as an adopted son in a Delaware family in northeastern Ohio, we gather some additional particulars concerning this prophet, whose name seems to be lost to history. McCullough himself, who was then but a boy, never met the prophet, but obtained his information from others who had, especially from his Indian brother, who went to Tuscarawas (or Tuscalaways) to see and hear the new apostle on his first appearance.

It was said by those who went to see him that he had certain hieroglyphics marked on a piece of parchment, denoting the probation that human beings were subjected to whilst they were living on earth, and also denoting something of a future state. They informed me that he was almost constantly crying whilst he was exhorting them. I saw a copy of his hieroglyphics, as numbers of them had got them copied and undertook to preach or instruct others. The first or principal doctrine they taught them was to purify themselves from sin, which they taught they could do by the use of emetics and abstinence from carnal knowledge of the different sexes; to quit the use of firearms, and to live entirely in the original state that they were in before the white people found out their country. Nay, they taught that that fire was not pure that was made by steel and flint, but that they should make it by rubbing two sticks together.... It was said that their prophet taught them, or made them believe, that he had his instructions immediately from Keesh-she-la-mil-lang-up, or a being that thought us into being, and that by following his instructions they would, in a few years, be able to drive the white people out of their country.

I knew a company of them who had secluded themselves for the purpose of purifying from sin, as they thought they could do. I believe they made no use of firearms. They had been out more than two years before I left them.... It was said that they made use of no other weapons than their bows and arrows. They also taught, in shaking hands, to give the left hand in token of friendship, as it denoted that they gave the heart along with the hand. (Pritts, 1.)

The religious ferment produced by the exhortations of the Delaware prophet spread rapidly from tribe to tribe, until, under the guidance of the master mind of the celebrated chief, Pontiac, it took shape in a grand confederacy of all the northwestern tribes to oppose the further progress of the English. The coast lands were lost to the Indians. The Ohio and the lakes were still theirs, and the Alleghanies marked a natural boundary between the two sections. Behind this mountain barrier Pontiac determined to make his stand. Though the prospect of a restoration of the French power might enable him to rally a following, he himself knew he could expect no aid from the French, for their armies had been defeated and their garrisons were already withdrawn; but, relying on the patriotism of his own red warriors, when told that the English were on their way to take possession of the abandoned posts, he sent back the haughty challenge, “I stand in the path.”

To Pontiac must be ascribed the highest position among the leaders of the Algonquian race. Born the son of a chief, he became in turn the chief of his own people, the Ottawa, whom it is said he commanded on the occasion of Braddock’s defeat. For this or other services in behalf of the French he had received marks of distinguished consideration from Montcalm himself. By reason of his natural ability, his influence was felt and respected wherever the name of his tribe was spoken, while to his dignity as chief he added the sacred character of high priest of the powerful secret order of the Midé. (Parkman, 3.) Now, in the prime of manhood, he originated and formulated the policy of a confederation of all the tribes, an idea afterward taken up and carried almost to a successful accomplishment by the great Tecumtha. As principal chief of the lake tribes, he summoned them to the great council near Detroit, in April, 1763, and, as high priest and keeper of the faith, he there announced to them the will of the Master of Life, as revealed to the Delaware prophet, and called on them to unite for the recovery of their ancient territories and the preservation of their national life. Under the spell of his burning words the chiefs listened as to an oracle, and cried out that he had only to declare his will to be obeyed. (Parkman, 4.) His project being unanimously approved, runners were sent out to secure the cooperation of the more remote nations, and in a short time the confederation embraced every important tribe of Algonquian lineage, together with the Wyandot, Seneca, Winnebago, and some of those to the southward. (Parkman, 5.)

Only the genius of a Pontiac could have molded into a working unit such an aggregation of diverse elements of savagery. His executive ability is sufficiently proven by his creation of a regular commissary department based on promissory notes—hieroglyphics graven on birchbark and signed with the otter, the totem of his tribe; his diplomatic bent appeared in his employment of two secretaries to attend to this unique correspondence, each of whom he managed to keep in ignorance of the business transacted by the other (Parkman, 6); while his military capacity was soon to be evinced in the carefully laid plan which enabled his warriors to strike simultaneously a crushing blow at every British post scattered throughout the 500 miles of wilderness from Pittsburg to the straits of Mackinaw.

The history of this war, so eloquently told by Parkman, reads like some old knightly romance. The warning of the Indian girl; the concerted attack on the garrisons; the ball play at Mackinac on the king’s birthday, and the massacre that followed; the siege of Fort Pitt and the heroic defense of Detroit; the bloody battle of Bushy run, where the painted savage recoiled before the kilted Highlander, as brave and almost as wild; Bouquet’s march into the forests of the Ohio, and the submission of the vanquished tribes—all these things must be passed over here. They have already been told by a master of language. But the contest of savagery against civilization has but one ending, and the scene closes with the death of Pontiac, a broken-spirited wanderer, cut down at last by a hired assassin of his own race, for whose crime the blood of whole tribes was poured out in atonement. (Parkman, 7.)

+Chapter III+

TENSKWATAWA THE SHAWANO PROPHET

I told all the redskins that the way they were in was not good, and that they ought to abandon it.—Tenskwatawa.

A very shrewd and influential man, but circumstances have destroyed him.—Catlin.

EXPLANATION OF FIGURE 56

The first portrait is taken from one given in Lossing’s American Revolution and War of 1812, +III+ (1875), page 189, and thus described: “The portrait of the Prophet is from a pencil sketch made by Pierre Le Dru, a young French trader, at Vincennes, in 1808. He made a sketch of Tecumtha at about the same time, both of which I found in possession of his son at Quebec in 1848, and by whom I was kindly permitted to copy them.” The other is a copy of the picture painted by Catlin in 1881, after the tribe had removed to Kansas. The artist describes him as blind in his left (?) eye, and painted him holding his medicine fire in his right hand and his sacred string of beans in the other.

Forty years had passed away and changes had come to the western territory. The cross of Saint George, erected in the place of the lilies of France, had been supplanted by the flag of the young republic, which in one generation had extended its sway from the lakes to the gulf and from the Atlantic to the Rocky mountains. By treaties made in 1768 with the Iroquois and Cherokee, the two leading Indian confederacies in the east, the Ohio and the Kanawha had been fixed as the boundary between the two races, the Indians renouncing forever their claims to the seaboard, the Delaware, and the Susquehanna, while they were confirmed in their possession of the Alleghany, the Ohio, and the great northwest. But the restless borderer would not be limited, and encroachments on the native domain were constantly being made, resulting in a chronic warfare which kept alive the spirit of resentment. The consequence was that in the final struggle of the Revolution the Indian tribes ranged themselves on the British side. When the war ended and a treaty of peace was made between the new government and the old, no provision was made for the red allies of the king, and they were left to continue the struggle single-handed. The Indians claimed the Ohio country as theirs by virtue of the most solemn treaties, but pioneers had already occupied western Pennsylvania, western Virginia, and Kentucky, and were listening with eager attention to the reports brought back by adventurous hunters from the fertile lands of the Muskingum and the Scioto. They refused to be bound by the treaties of a government they had repudiated, and the tribes of the northwest were obliged to fight to defend their territories. Under the able leadership of Little Turtle they twice rolled back the tide of white invasion, defeating two of the finest armies ever sent into the western country, until, worn out by twenty years of unceasing warfare, and crushed and broken by the decisive victory of Wayne at the Fallen Timbers, their villages in ashes and their cornfields cut down, the dispirited chiefs met their conqueror at Greenville in 1795 and signed away the rights for which they had so long contended.

By this treaty, which marks the beginning of the end with the eastern tribes, the Indians renounced their claims to all territory east of a line running in a general way from the mouth of the Cuyahoga on Lake Erie to the mouth of the Kentucky on the Ohio, leaving to the whites the better portion of Ohio valley, including their favorite hunting ground of Kentucky. The Delaware, the Wyandot, and the Shawano, three of the leading tribes, were almost completely shorn of their ancient inheritance and driven back as refugees among the Miami.

The Canadian boundary had been established along the lakes; the Ohio was lost to the Indians; for them there was left only extermination or removal to the west. Their bravest warriors were slain. Their ablest chieftain, who had led them to victory against St Clair, had bowed to the inevitable, and was now regarded as one with a white man’s heart and a traitor to his race. A brooding dissatisfaction settled down on the tribes. Who shall deliver them from the desolation that has come on them?

Now arose among the Shawano another prophet to point out to his people the “open door” leading to happiness. In November, 1805, a young man named Laulewasikaw (Lalawe′thika, a rattle or similar instrument—Gatschet), then hardly more than 30 years of age, called around him his tribesmen and their allies at their ancient capital of Wapakoneta, within the present limits of Ohio, and there announced himself as the bearer of a new revelation from the Master of Life, who had taken pity on his red children and wished to save them from the threatened destruction. He declared that he had been taken up to the spirit world and had been permitted to lift the veil of the past and the future—had seen the misery of evil doers and learned the happiness that awaited those who followed the precepts of the Indian god. He then began an earnest exhortation, denouncing the witchcraft practices and medicine juggleries of the tribe, and solemnly warning his hearers that none who had part in such things would ever taste of the future happiness. The firewater of the whites was poison and accursed; and those who continued its use would after death be tormented with all the pains of fire, while flames would continually issue from their mouths. This idea may have been derived from some white man’s teaching or from the Indian practice of torture by fire. The young must cherish and respect the aged and infirm. All property must be in common, according to the ancient law of their ancestors. Indian women must cease to intermarry with white men; the two races were distinct and must remain so. The white man’s dress, with his flint-and-steel, must be discarded for the old time buckskin and the firestick. More than this, every tool and every custom derived from the whites must be put away, and they must return to the methods which the Master of Life had taught them. When they should do all this, he promised that they would again be taken into the divine favor, and find the happiness which their fathers had known before the coming of the whites. Finally, in proof of his divine mission, he announced that he had received power to cure all diseases and to arrest the hand of death in sickness or on the battlefield. (Drake, Tecumseh, 1.) To avoid repetition, it may be stated that, except when otherwise noted, the principal facts concerning Tecumtha and the prophet are taken from Drake’s work, the most valuable published on the subject. The prophet and his doctrines are also spoken of at some length by Tanner, Kendall, Warren, and Catlin, as hereafter quoted, while the history of Tecumtha is a part of the history of Ohio valley, to be found in any work treating of that section and period.)

In an account quoted by Drake, probably from an English writer, it is stated that the prophet was noted for his stupidity and intoxication until his fiftieth (?) year, when one day, while lighting his pipe in his cabin, he suddenly fell back apparently lifeless and remained in that condition until his friends had assembled for the funeral, when he revived from his trance, and after quieting their alarm, announced that he had been to the spirit world and commanded them to call the people together that he might tell them what he had seen. When they had assembled, he declared that he had been conducted to the border of the spirit world by two young men, who had permitted him to look in upon its pleasures, but not to enter, and who, after charging him with the message to his people already noted, had left him, promising to visit him again at a future time. (Drake, Ab. Races, 1.)

Although the language of this account is somewhat overdrawn, the main statements are probably correct, as it is in complete accordance with the Indian system by which all truth has been revealed in dreams and trances from the first dawn of tradition down to Smohalla and the messiah of the Ghost dance.

His words aroused an intense excitement among his hearers, and the impression deepened as the tidings of the new gospel were carried from camp to camp. Those who were addicted to drunkenness—the besetting sin of the Indians since their acquaintance with the whites—were so thoroughly alarmed at the prospect of a fiery punishment in the spirit world that for a long time intoxication became practically unknown among the western tribes. Their zeal led also to the inauguration of a crusade against all who were suspected of dealing in witchcraft or magic arts; but here the prophet took advantage of this feeling to effectually rid himself of all who opposed his sacred claims. It was only necessary for him to denounce such a person as a witch to have him pay the forfeit with reputation, if not with life.

Among the first of his victims were several Delawares—Tatepocoshe (more generally known as Teteboxti), Patterson, his nephew, Coltos, an old woman, and an aged man called Joshua. These were successively marked by the prophet, and doomed to be burnt alive. The tragedy was commenced with the old woman. The Indians roasted her slowly over a fire for four days, calling upon her frequently to deliver up her charm and medicine bag. Just as she was dying, she exclaimed that her grandson, who was then out hunting, had it in his possession. Messengers were sent in pursuit of him, and when found he was tied and brought into camp. He acknowledged that on one occasion he had borrowed the charm of his grandmother, by means of which he had flown through the air over Kentucky, to the banks of the Mississippi, and back again, between twilight and bedtime; but he insisted that he had returned the charm to its owner, and, after some consultation, he was set at liberty. The following day a council was held over the case of the venerable chief Tatepocoshe, he being present. His death was decided upon after full deliberation; and, arrayed in his finest apparel, he calmly assisted in building his own funeral pile, fully aware that there was no escape from the judgment that had been passed upon him. The respect due to his whitened locks induced his executioners to treat him with mercy. He was deliberately tomahawked by a young man, and his body was then placed upon the blazing fagots and consumed. The next day the old preacher Joshua met a similar fate. The wife of Tatepocoshe and his nephew Billy Patterson were then brought into the council house and seated side by side. The latter had led an irreproachable life, and died like a Christian, singing and praying amid the flames which destroyed his body. While preparations were making for the immolation of Tatepocoshe’s wife, her brother, a youth of 20 years of age, suddenly started up, took her by the hand, and, to the amazement of the council, led her out of the house. He soon returned, and exclaiming, “The devil has come among us (alluding to the prophet), and we are killing each other,” he reseated himself in the midst of the crowd. This bold step checked the wild frenzy of the Indians, put an end to these cruel scenes, and for a time greatly impaired the impostor’s influence among the Delawares. (Drake, Tecumseh, 2.)

The prophet now changed his name to Tenskwatawa, “The Open Door” (from skwa′te, a door, and the′nui, to be open; frequently spelled Elskwatawa), significant of the new mode of life which he had come to point out to his people, and fixed his headquarters at Greenville, Ohio, where representatives from the various scattered tribes of the northwest gathered about him to learn the new doctrines. Some, especially the Kickapoo, entered fervently into his spirit, while others were disposed to oppose him. The Miami, who regarded the Shawano as intruders, were jealous of his influence, and the chiefs of his own tribe were somewhat inclined to consider him in the light of a rival. To establish his sacred character and to dispel the doubts of the unbelievers, he continued to dream dreams and announce wonderful revelations from time to time, when an event occurred which effectually silenced opposition and stamped him as one inspired.

By some means he had learned that an eclipse of the sun was to take place in the summer of 1806. As the time drew near, he called about him the scoffers and boldly announced that on a certain day he would prove to them his supernatural authority by causing the sun to become dark. When the day and hour arrived and the earth at midday was enveloped in the gloom of twilight, Tenskwatawa, standing in the midst of the terrified Indians, pointed to the sky and cried, “Did I not speak truth? See, the sun is dark!” There were no more doubters now. All proclaimed him a true prophet and the messenger of the Master of Life. His fame spread abroad and apostles began to carry his revelations to the remotest tribes.

We get but fragmentary light in regard to the details of the doctrine and ceremonies of this religious revival, as well as of that which preceded it. There were then no railroads, no newspaper correspondents to gather each day’s proceedings, and no telegraph to flash the news across the continent before nightfall; no reservation system, with its attendant army of employees, everyone a spy when an emergency arose; and no investigators to go among the tribes and study the matter from an ethnologic point of view. Our information is derived chiefly from military officers, who knew these things only as vague rumors of Indian unrest fomented by British agents; from the statements of a few illiterate interpreters or captives among the savages, and from the misty recollections of old men long after the excitement had passed away. Of the dances which are a part of every important Indian ceremony, the songs which they chanted, the peculiar dress or adornments which probably distinguished the believers—of all these we know nothing; but we may well surmise that the whole elaborate system of Indian mythology and ceremonial was brought into play to give weight to the words of the prophet, and enough is known to show that in its leading features the movement closely resembled the modern Ghost dance.

It is impossible to know how far the prophet was responsible for the final shaping of the doctrine. Like all such movements, it undoubtedly grew and took more definite form under the hands of the apostles who went out from the presence of its originator to preach to the various tribes. A religion which found adherents alike in the everglades of Florida and on the plains of the Saskatchewan must necessarily have undergone local modifications. From a comparison of the various accounts we can arrive at a general statement of the belief.

The prophet was held to be an incarnation of Manabozho, the great “first doer” of the Algonquian system. His words were believed to be the direct utterances of a deity. Manabozho had taught his people certain modes of living best suited to their condition and capacity. A new race had come upon them, and the Indians had thrown aside their primitive purity of life and adopted the innovations of the whites, which had now brought them to degradation and misery and threatened them with swift and entire destruction. To punish them for their disobedience and bring them to a sense of their duty, Manabozho had called the game from the forests and shut it up under the earth, so that the tribes were now on the verge of starvation and obliged to eat the flesh of filthy hogs. They had also lost their old love for one another and become addicted to the secret practices of the poisoner and the wizard, together with the abominable ceremonies of the calumet dance. They must now put aside all these things, throw away the weapons and the dress of the white man, pluck out their hair as in ancient times, wear the eagle feather on their heads, and clothe themselves again with the breechcloth and the skins of animals slain with the bows and arrows which Manabozho had given them. (Kendall, 1.) They must have done with the white man’s flint-and-steel, and cook their food over a fire made by rubbing together two sticks, and this fire must always be kept burning in their lodges, as it was a symbol of the eternal life, and their care for it was an evidence of their heed to the divine commands. The firewater must forever be put away, together with the medicine bags and poisons and the wicked juggleries which had corrupted the ancient purity of the Midé rites. Instead of these the prophet gave them new songs and new medicines. Their women must cease from any connection with white men. They were to love one another and make an end of their constant wars, to be kind to their children, to keep but one dog in a family, and to abstain from lying and stealing. If they would listen to his voice and follow his instructions, the incarnate Manabozho promised that at the end of four years (i. e., in 1811) he would bring on two days of darkness, during which he would travel invisibly throughout the land, and cause the animals which he had created to come forth again out of the earth. (Kendall, 2.) They were also promised that their dead friends would be restored to them.

The ideas as to the catastrophe that was to usher in the new era seem to have varied according to the interpreter of the belief. Among the Ottawa, and perhaps among the lake tribes generally, there was to be a period of darkness, as already stated. Among the Cherokee, and probably also among the Creek, it was believed that there would be a terrible hailstorm, which would overwhelm with destruction both the whites and the unbelievers of the red race, while the elect would be warned in time to save themselves by fleeing to the high mountain tops. The idea of any hostile combination against the white race seems to have been no part of the doctrine. In the north, however, there is always a plain discrimination against the Americans. The Great Father, through his prophet, is represented as declaring himself to be the common parent alike of Indians, English, French, and Spaniards; while the Americans, on the contrary, “are not my children, but the children of the evil spirit. They grew from the scum of the great water, when it was troubled by an evil spirit and the froth was driven into the woods by a strong east wind. They are numerous, but I hate them. They are unjust; they have taken away your lands, which were not made for them.” (Kendall, 3.)

From the venerable James Wafford, of the Cherokee nation, the author in 1891 obtained some interesting details in regard to the excitement among the Cherokee. According to his statement, the doctrine first came to them through the Creek about 1812 or 1813. It was probably given to the Creek by Tecumtha and his party on their visit to that tribe in the fall of 1811, as will be related hereafter. The Creek were taught by their prophets that the old Indian life was soon to return, when “instead of beef and bacon they would have venison, and instead of chickens they would have turkeys.” Great sacred dances were inaugurated, and the people were exhorted to be ready for what was to come. From the south the movement spread to the Cherokee, and one of their priests, living in what is now upper Georgia, began to preach that on a day near at hand there would be a terrible storm, with a mighty wind and hailstones as large as hominy mortars, which would destroy from the face of the earth all but the true believers who had previously taken refuge on the highest summits of the Great Smoky mountains. Full of this belief, numbers of the tribe in Alabama and Georgia abandoned their bees, their orchards, their slaves, and everything else that might have come to them through the white man, and, in spite of the entreaties and remonstrances of friends who put no faith in the prediction, took up their toilsome march for the mountains of Carolina. Wafford, who was then about 10 years of age, lived with his mother and stepfather on Valley river, and vividly remembers the troops of pilgrims, with their packs on their backs, fleeing from the lower country to escape from the wrath to come. Many of them stopped at the house of his stepfather, who, being a white man, was somewhat better prepared than his neighbors to entertain travelers, and who took the opportunity to endeavor to persuade them to turn back, telling them that their hopes and fears alike were groundless. Some listened to him and returned to their homes, but others went on and climbed the mountain, where they waited until the appointed day arrived, only to find themselves disappointed. Slowly and sadly then they took up their packs once more and turned their faces homeward, dreading the ridicule they were sure to meet there, but yet believing in their hearts that the glorious coming was only postponed for a time. This excitement among the Cherokee is noted at some length in the Cherokee Advocate of November 16, 1844, published at Tahlequah, Cherokee Nation. Among the Creek the excitement, intensified by reports of the struggle now going on in the north, and fostered and encouraged by the emissaries of Spain and England, grew and spread until it culminated in the summer of 1813 in the terrible Creek war.

Enough is known of the ceremonial of this religion to show that it must have had an elaborate ritual. We learn from Warren that the adherents of the prophet were accustomed to perform certain ceremonies in solemn councils, and that, after he had prohibited the corrupt secret rites, he introduced instead new medicines and songs, and that at the ancient capital of the Ojibwa on Lake Superior the Indians collected in great numbers and performed these dances and ceremonies day and night. (Warren, 1.) They were also instructed to dance naked, with their bodies painted and with the warclub in their hands. (Kendall, 4.) The solemn rite of confirmation, known as “shaking hands with the prophet,” was particularly impressive. From the narrative of John Tanner, a white man captured when a child from his home in Kentucky and brought up among the wild Ojibwa, we get the best contemporary account of the advent of the new doctrine in the north and its effect on the lake tribes. He says:

It was while I was living here at Great Wood river that news came of a great man among the Shawneese, who had been favoured by a revelation of the mind and will of the Great Spirit. I was hunting in the prairie, at a great distance from my lodge, when I saw a stranger approaching. At first I was apprehensive of an enemy, but as he drew nearer, his dress showed him to be an Ojibbeway; but when he came up, there was something very strange and peculiar in his manner. He signified to me that I must go home, but gave no explanation of the cause. He refused to look at me or enter into any kind of conversation. I thought he must be crazy, but nevertheless accompanied him to my lodge. When we had smoked, he remained a long time silent, but at last began to tell me he had come with a message from the prophet of the Shawneese. “Henceforth,” said he, “the fire must never be suffered to go out in your lodge. Summer and winter, day and night, in the storm, or when it is calm, you must remember that the life in your body and the fire in your lodge are the same and of the same date. If you suffer your fire to be extinguished, at that moment your life will be at its end. You must not suffer a dog to live; you must never strike either a man, a woman, a child, or a dog. The prophet himself is coming to shake hands with you; but I have come before, that you may know what is the will of the Great Spirit, communicated to us by him, and to inform you that the preservation of your life, for a single moment, depends on your entire obedience. From this time forward we are neither to be drunk, to steal, to lie, or to go against our enemies. While we yield an entire obedience to these commands of the Great Spirit, the Sioux, even if they come to our country, will not be able to see us; we shall be protected and made happy.” I listened to all he had to say, but told him, in answer, that I could not believe we should all die in case our fire went out; in many instances, also, it would be difficult to avoid punishing our children; our dogs were useful in aiding us to hunt and take animals, so that I could not believe the Great Spirit had any wish to take them from us. He continued talking to us until late at night; then he lay down to sleep in my lodge. I happened to wake first in the morning, and, perceiving the fire had gone out, I called him to get up and see how many of us were living and how many dead. He was prepared for the ridicule I attempted to throw upon his doctrine, and told me that I had not yet shaken hands with the prophet. His visit had been to prepare me for this important event, and to make me aware of the obligations and risks I should incur, by entering into the engagement implied in taking in my hand the message of the prophet. I did not rest entirely easy in my unbelief. The Indians, generally, received the doctrine of this man with great humility and fear. Distress and anxiety was visible in every countenance. Many killed their dogs, and endeavored to practice obedience to all the commands of this new preacher, who still remained among us. But, as was usual with me, in any emergency of this kind, I went to the traders, firmly believing that if the Deity had any communications to make to men, they would be given, in the first instance, to white men. The traders ridiculed and despised the idea of a new revelation of the Divine will, and the thought that it should be given to a poor Shawnee. Thus was I confirmed in my infidelity. Nevertheless, I did not openly avow my unbelief to the Indians, only I refused to kill my dogs, and showed no great degree of anxiety to comply with his other requirements. As long as I remained among the Indians, I made it my business to conform, as far as appeared consistent with my immediate convenience and comfort, with all their customs. Many of their ideas I have adopted, but I always found among them opinions which I could not hold. The Ojibbeway whom I have mentioned remained some time among the Indians in my neighborhood, and gained the attention of the principal men so effectually that a time was appointed and a lodge prepared for the solemn and public espousing of the doctrines of the prophet. When the people, and I among them, were brought into the long lodge, prepared for this solemnity, we saw something carefully concealed under a blanket, in figure and dimensions bearing some resemblance to the form of a man. This was accompanied by two young men, who, it was understood, attended constantly upon it, made its bed at night, as for a man, and slept near it. But while we remained no one went near it or raised the blanket which was spread over its unknown contents. Four strings of mouldy and discoloured beans were all the remaining visible insignia of this important mission. After a long harangue, in which the prominent features of the new revelation were stated and urged upon the attention of all, the four strings of beans, which we were told were made of the flesh itself of the prophet, were carried with much solemnity to each man in the lodge, and he was expected to take hold of each string at the top, and draw them gently through his hand. This was called shaking hands with the prophet, and was considered as solemnly engaging to obey his injunctions, and accept his mission as from the Supreme. All the Indians who touched the beans had previously killed their dogs; they gave up their medicine bags, and showed a disposition to comply with all that should be required of them.

We had now been for some time assembled in considerable numbers. Much agitation and terror had prevailed among us, and now famine began to be felt. The faces of men wore an aspect of unusual gloominess; the active became indolent, and the spirits of the bravest seemed to be subdued. I started to hunt with my dogs, which I had constantly refused to kill or suffer to be killed. By their assistance, I found and killed a bear. On returning home, I said to some of the Indians, “Has not the Great Spirit given us our dogs to aid us in procuring what is needful for the support of our life, and can you believe he wishes now to deprive us of their services? The prophet, we are told, has forbid us to suffer our fire to be extinguished in our lodges, and when we travel or hunt, he will not allow us to use a flint and steel, and we are told he requires that no man should give fire to another. Can it please the Great Spirit that we should lie in our hunting camps without fire, or is it more agreeable to him that we should make fire by rubbing together two sticks than with a flint and a piece of steel?” But they would not listen to me; and the serious enthusiasm which prevailed among them so far affected me that I threw away my flint and steel, laid aside my medicine bag, and, in many particulars, complied with the new doctrines; but I would not kill my dogs. I soon learned to kindle a fire by rubbing some dry cedar, which I was careful to carry always about me, but the discontinuance of the use of flint and steel subjected many of the Indians to much inconvenience and suffering. The influence of the Shawnee prophet was very sensibly and painfully felt by the remotest Ojibbeways of whom I had any knowledge, but it was not the common impression among them that his doctrines had any tendency to unite them in the accomplishment of any human purpose. For two or three years drunkenness was much less frequent than formerly, war was less thought of, and the entire aspect of affairs among them was somewhat changed by the influence of one man. But gradually the impression was obliterated; medicine bags, flints, and steels were resumed; dogs were raised, women and children were beaten as before, and the Shawnee prophet was despised. At this day he is looked upon by the Indians as an impostor and a bad man. (Tanner, 1.)

Tanner’s account is confirmed by Warren, from the statements of old men among the Ojibwa who had taken part in the revival. According to their story the ambassadors of the new revelation appeared at the different villages, acting strangely and with their faces painted black—perhaps to signify their character as messengers from the world of shades. They told the people that they must light a fire with two dry sticks in each of their principal settlements, and that this fire must always be kept sacred and burning. They predicted the speedy return of the old Indian life, and asserted that the prophet would cause the dead to rise from the grave. The new belief took sudden and complete possession of the minds of the Ojibwa and spread “like wildfire” from end to end of their widely extended territory, and even to the remote northern tribes in alliance with the Cree and Asiniboin. The strongest evidence of their implicit obedience to the new revelation was given by their attention to the command to throw away their medicine bags, the one thing which every Indian holds most sacred. It is said that the shores of Lake Superior, in the vicinity of the great village of Shagawaumikong (Bayfield, Wisconsin), were strewn with these medicine bags, which had been cast into the water. At this ancient capital of the tribe the Ojibwa gathered in great numbers, to dance the dances and sing the songs of the new ritual, until a message was received from the prophet inviting them to come to him at Detroit, where he would explain in person the will of the Master of Life. This was in 1808. The excitement was now at fever heat, and it was determined to go in a body to Detroit. It is said that 150 canoe loads of Ojibwa actually started on this pilgrimage, and one family even brought with them a dead child to be restored to life by the prophet. They had proceeded a considerable distance when they were met by an influential French trader, who reported, on the word of some who had already visited the prophet’s camp and returned, that the devotees there were on the brink of starvation—which was true, as the great multitude had consumed their entire supply of provisions, and had been so occupied with religious ceremonies that they had neglected to plant their corn. It was also asserted that during the prophet’s frequent periods of absence from the camp, when he would disappear for several days, claiming on his return that he had been to the spirit world in converse with the Master of Life, that he was really concealed in a hollow log in the woods. This is quite probable, and entirely consistent with the Indian theory of trances and soul pilgrimages while the body remains unconscious in one spot. These reports, however, put such a damper on the ardor of the Ojibwa that they returned to their homes and gradually ceased to think about the new revelation. As time went on a reaction set in, and those who had been most active evangelists of the doctrine among the tribe became most anxious to efface the remembrance of it. One good, however, resulted to the Ojibwa from the throwing away of the poisonous compounds formerly in common use by the lower order of doctors, and secret poisoning became almost unknown. (Warren, 2.)

When the celebrated traveler Catlin went among the prairie tribes some thirty years later, he found that the prophet’s emissaries—he says the prophet himself, which is certainly a mistake—had carried the living fire, the sacred image, and the mystic strings (see portrait and description) even to the Blackfeet on the plains of the Saskatchewan, going without hindrance among warring tribes where the name of the Shawano had never been spoken, protected only by the reverence that attached to their priestly character. There seems no doubt that by this time they had developed the plan of a confederacy for driving back the whites, and Catlin asserts that thousands of warriors among those remote tribes had pledged themselves to fight under the lead of Tecumtha at the proper time. His account of the prophet’s methods in the extreme northwest agrees with what Tanner has reported from the Ojibwa country. (Catlin, 1.) But disaster followed him like a shadow. Rivals, jealous of his success, came after him to denounce his plans as visionary and himself as an impostor. The ambassadors were obliged to turn back to save their lives and retrace their way in haste to the far distant Wabash, where the fatal battle of Tippecanoe and the death of his great brother, Tecumtha, put an end to all his splendid dreams.

+Chapter IV+

TECUMTHA AND TIPPECANOE

These lands are ours. No one has a right to remove us, because we were the first owners.—Tecumtha to Wells, 1807.

The Great Spirit gave this great island to his red children. He placed the whites on the other side of the big water. They were not contented with their own, but came to take ours from us. They have driven us from the sea to the lakes—we can go no farther.—Tecumtha, 1810.

The President may sit still in his town and drink his wine, while you and I will have to fight it out.—Tecumtha to Harrison, 1810.

And now we begin to hear of the prophet’s brother, Tecumtha, the most heroic character in Indian history. Tecumtha, “The Meteor,” was the son of a chief and the worthy scion of a warrior race. His tribe, the Shawano, made it their proud boast that they of all tribes had opposed the most determined resistance to the encroachments of the whites. His father had fallen under the bullets of the Virginians while leading his warriors at the bloody battle of Point Pleasant, in 1774. His eldest and dearest brother had lost his life in an attack on a southern frontier post, and another had been killed fighting by his side at Wayne’s victory in 1794. What wonder that the young Tecumtha declared that his flesh crept at the sight of a white man!

But his was no mean spirit of personal revenge; his mind was too noble for that. He hated the whites as the destroyers of his race, but prisoners and the defenseless knew well that they could rely on his honor and humanity and were safe under his protection. When only a boy—for his military career began in childhood—he had witnessed the burning of a prisoner, and the spectacle was so abhorrent to his feelings that by an earnest and eloquent harangue he induced the party to give up the practice forever. In later years his name was accepted by helpless women and children as a guaranty of protection even in the midst of hostile Indians. Of commanding figure, nearly six feet in height and compactly built; of dignified bearing and piercing eye, before whose lightning even a British general quailed; with the fiery eloquence of a Clay and the clear-cut logic of a Webster; abstemious in habit, charitable in thought and action, brave as a lion, but humane and generous withal—in a word, an aboriginal American knight—his life was given to his people, and he fell at last, like his father and his brothers before him, in battle with the destroyers of his nation, the champion of a lost cause and a dying race.

His name has been rendered “The Shooting Star” and “The Panther Crouching, or Lying in Wait.” From a reply to a letter of inquiry addressed to Professor A. S. Gatschet, the well-known philologist, I extract the following, which throws valuable light on the name system and mythology of the Shawano, and shows also that the two renderings, apparently so dissimilar, have a common origin:

Shawano personal names are nearly all clan names, and by their interpretation the clan to which the individual or his father or mother belongs may be discovered. Thus, when a man is called “tight fitting” or “good fit,” he is of the Rabbit clan, because the fur fits the rabbit very tightly and closely. The name of Tecumtha is derived from nila ni tka′mthka, “I cross the path or way of somebody, or of an animal.” This indicates that the one so named belongs to the clan of the round-foot or claw-foot animals, as panther, lion, or even raccoon. Tecumtha and his brother belonged to the clan of the manetuwi msipessi or “miraculous panther” (msi, great, big; pishiwi, abbreviated pessi, cat, both combined meaning the American lion). So the translations “panther lying in wait,” or “crouching lion,” give only the sense of the name, and no animal is named in it. But the msi-pessi, when the epithet miraculous (manetuwi) is added to it, means a “celestial tiger,” i. e., a meteor or shooting star. The manetuwi msi-pessi lives in water only and is visible not as an animal, but as a shooting star, and exceeding in size other shooting stars. This monster gave name to a Shawano clan, and this clan, to which Tecumtha belonged, was classed among the claw-foot animals also. The quick motion of the shooting star was correctly likened to that of a tiger or wildcat rushing upon his prey. Shooting stars are supposed to be souls of great men all over America. The home of the dead is always in the west, where the celestial bodies set, and since meteors travel westward they were supposed to return to their western home.

EXPLANATION OF FIGURE 58

This portrait is a copy of the one given by Lossing in his American Revolution and the War of 1812, +III.+ (1875), page 283. He quotes a description of Tecumtha’s personal appearance by a British officer who saw him in 1812, and then goes on to give the history of the portrait. “Captain J. B. Glegg, Brock’s aid-de-camp, has left on record the following description of Tecumtha at that interview: ‘Tecumseh’s appearance was very prepossessing; his figure light and finely proportioned; his age I imagined to be about five and thirty [he was about forty]; in height, 5 feet 9 or 10 inches; his complexion light copper; countenance oval, with bright hazel eyes, bearing cheerfulness, energy, and decision. Three small silver crosses or coronets were suspended from the lower cartilage of his aquiline nose, and a large silver medallion of George the Third, which I believe his ancestor had received from Lord Dorchester when governor-general of Canada, was attached to a mixed-colored wampum string and hung round his neck. His dress consisted of a plain, neat uniform, tanned deerskin jacket, with long trowsers of the same material, the seams of both being covered with neatly cut fringe, and he had on his feet leather moccasins, much ornamented with work made from the dyed quills of the porcupine.’ The portrait of Tecumtha above given is from a pencil sketch by Pierre Le Dru.... In this I have given only the head by Le Dru. The cap was red, and in front was a single eagle’s feather, black, with a white tip. The sketch of his dress (and the medal above described), in which he appears as a brigadier-general of the British army, is from a rough drawing, which I saw in Montreal in the summer of 1858, made at Malden soon after the surrender of Detroit, where the Indians celebrated that event by a grand feast. It was only on gala occasions that Tecumtha was seen in full dress. The sketch did not pretend to give a true likeness of the chief, and was valuable only as a delineation of his costume. From the two we are enabled to give a pretty faithful picture of the great Shawnoese warrior and statesman as he appeared in his best mood. When in full dress he wore a cocked hat and plume, but would not give up his blue breechcloth, red leggings fringed with buckskin, and buckskin moccasins.”

Tecumtha was now in the prime of manhood, being about 40 years of age, and had already thought out his scheme of uniting all the tribes in one grand confederation to resist the further encroachments of the whites, on the principle that the Indians had common interests, and that what concerned one tribe concerned all. As the tribes were constantly shifting about, following the game in its migrations, he held that no one tribe had any more than a possessory right to the land while in actual occupancy, and that any sale of lands, to be valid, must be sanctioned by all the tribes concerned. His claim was certainly founded in justice, but the government refused to admit the principle in theory, although repeatedly acting on it in practice, for every important treaty afterward made in Mississippi valley was a joint treaty, as it was found impossible to assign the ownership of any considerable section to any one particular tribe. The Shawano themselves hunted from the Cumberland to the Susquehanna. As a basal proposition, Tecumtha claimed that the Greenville treaty, having been forced on the Indians, was invalid; that the only true boundary was the Ohio, as established in 1768, and that all future cessions must have the sanction of all the tribes claiming rights in that region.

By this time there were assembled at Greenville to listen to the teachings of the prophet hundreds of savages, representing all the widely extended tribes of the late region and the great northwest, all wrought up to the highest pitch of excitement over the prospect of a revival of the old Indian life and the perpetuation of aboriginal sovereignty. This was Tecumtha’s opportunity, and he was quick to improve it. Even those who doubted the spiritual revelations could see that they were in danger from the continued advances of the whites, and were easily convinced that safety required that they should unite as one people for the preservation of a common boundary. The pilgrims carried back these ideas to their several tribes, and thus what was at first a simple religious revival soon became a political agitation. They were equally patriotic from the Indian point of view, and under the circumstances one was almost the natural complement of the other. All the evidence goes to show that the movement in its inception was purely religious and peaceable; but the military spirit of Tecumtha afterward gave to it a warlike and even aggressive character, and henceforth the apostles of the prophet became also recruiting agents for his brother. Tecumtha himself was too sensible to think that the whites would be destroyed by any interposition of heaven, or that they could be driven out by any combination of the Indians, but he did believe it possible that the westward advance of the Americans could be stopped at the Ohio, leaving his people in undisturbed possession of what lay beyond. In this hope he was encouraged by the British officials in Canada, and it is doubtful if the movement would ever have become formidable if it had not been incited and assisted from across the line.

In the spring of 1807 it was estimated that at Fort Wayne fifteen hundred Indians had recently passed that post on their way to visit the prophet, while councils were constantly being held and runners were going from tribe to tribe with pipes and belts of wampum. It was plain that some uncommon movement was going on among them, and it also was evident that the British agents had a hand in keeping up the excitement. The government became alarmed, and the crisis came when an order was sent from the President to Tecumtha at Greenville to remove his party beyond the boundary of 1795 (the Greenville treaty). Trembling with excitement, Tecumtha rose and addressed his followers in a passionate speech, dwelling on the wrongs of the Indians and the continued encroachments of the whites. Then, turning to the messenger, he said, “These lands are ours. No one has a right to remove us, because we were the first owners. The Great Spirit above has appointed this place for us, on which to light our fires, and here we will remain. As to boundaries, the Great Spirit above knows no boundaries nor will his red children acknowledge any.” (Drake, Tecumseh, 3.) From this time it was understood that the Indians were preparing to make a final stand for the valley of the Ohio. The prophet continued to arouse their enthusiasm by his inspired utterances, while Tecumtha became the general and active organizer of the warriors. At a conference with the governor of Ohio in the autumn of 1807 he fearlessly denied the validity of the former treaties, and declared his intention to resist the further extension of the white settlements on Indian lands.

The next spring great numbers of Indians came down from the lakes to visit Tecumtha and his brother, who, finding their following increasing so rapidly, accepted an invitation from the Potawatomi and Kickapoo, and removed their headquarters to a more central location on the Wabash. The Delaware and Miami, who claimed precedence in that region and who had all along opposed the prophet and Tecumtha, protested against this move, but without effect. The new settlement, which was on the western bank of the river, just below the mouth of the Tippecanoe, was known to the Indians as Kehtipaquononk, “the great clearing,” and was an old and favorite location with them. It had been the site of a large Shawano village which had been destroyed by the Americans in 1791, and some years later the Potawatomi had rebuilt upon the same place, to which they now invited the disciples of the new religion. The whites had corrupted the name to Tippecanoe, and it now generally became known as the Prophet’s town.

Nothing else of moment occurred during this year, but it was learned that Tecumtha contemplated visiting the southern tribes in the near future to enlist them also in his confederacy. In 1809, however, rumors of an approaching outbreak began to fill the air, and it was evident that the British were instigating the Indians to mischief in anticipation of a war between England and the United States. Just at this juncture the anger of Tecumtha’s party was still further inflamed by the negotiation of treaties with four tribes by which additional large tracts were ceded in Indiana and Illinois. The Indians now refused to buy ammunition from the American traders, saying that they could obtain all they wanted for nothing in another quarter. In view of the signs of increasing hostility, Governor Harrison was authorized to take such steps as might be necessary to protect the frontier. Tecumtha had now gained over the Wyandot, the most influential tribe of the Ohio region, the keepers of the great wampum belt of union and the lighters of the council fire of the allied tribes. Their example was speedily followed by the Miami, whose adhesion made the tribes of the Ohio and the lakes practically unanimous. The prophet now declared that he would follow in the steps of Pontiac, and called on the remote tribes to assist those on the border to roll back the tide which would otherwise overwhelm them all. In return, the Sauk and Fox sent word that they were ready whenever he should say the word.

In the summer of 1810, according to a previous arrangement, Tecumtha, attended by several hundred warriors, descended the river to Vincennes to confer with Governor Harrison on the situation. The conference began on the 15th of August and lasted three days. Tecumtha reiterated his former claims, saying that in uniting the tribes he was endeavoring to dam the mighty water that was ready to overflow his people. The Americans had driven the Indians from the sea and threatened to push them into the lakes; and, although he disclaimed any intention of making war against the United States, he declared his fixed resolution to insist on the old boundary and to oppose the further intrusion of the whites on the lands of the Indians, and to resist the survey of the lands recently ceded. He was followed by chiefs of five different tribes, each of whom in turn declared that he would support the principles of Tecumtha. Harrison replied that the government would never admit that any section belonged to all the Indians in common, and that, having bought the ceded lands from the tribes who were first found in possession of them, it would defend its title by arms. To this Tecumtha said that he preferred to be on the side of the Americans, and that if his terms were conceded he would bring his forces to the aid of the United States in the war which he knew was soon to break out with England, but that otherwise he would be compelled to join the British. The governor replied that he would state the case to the President, but that it was altogether unlikely that he would consent to the conditions. Recognizing the inevitable, Tecumtha expressed the hope that, as the President was to determine the matter, the Great Spirit would put sense into his head to induce him to give up the lands, adding, “It is true, he is so far off he will not be injured by the war. He may sit still in his town and drink his wine, while you and I will have to fight it out.” The governor then requested that in the event of an Indian war Tecumtha would use his influence to prevent the practice of cruelties on women and children and defenseless prisoners. To this he readily agreed, and the promise was faithfully kept. (Drake, Tecumseh, 4.)

The conference had ended with a tacit understanding that war must come, and both sides began to prepare for the struggle. Soon after it was learned that the prophet had sent belts to the tribes west of the Mississippi, inviting them to join in a war against the United States. Outrages on the Indians by settlers intensified the hostile feeling, and the Delawares refused to deliver up a murderer until some of the whites who had killed their people were first punished. Harrison himself states that the Indians could rarely obtain satisfaction for the most unprovoked wrongs. In another letter he says that Tecumtha “has taken for his model the celebrated Pontiac, and I am persuaded he will bear a favorable comparison in every respect with that far-famed warrior.”

In July, 1811, Tecumtha again, visited Harrison at Vincennes. In the course of his talk he said that the whites were unnecessarily alarmed, as the Indians were only following the example set them by the colonies in uniting for the furtherance of common interests. He added that he was now on his way to the southern tribes to obtain their adhesion also to the league, and that on his return in the spring he intended to visit the President to explain his purposes fully and to clear away all difficulties. In the meantime he expected that a large number of Indians would join his colony on the Wabash during the winter, and to avoid any danger of collision between them and the whites, he requested that no settlements should be made on the disputed lands until he should have an opportunity to see the President. To this Harrison replied that the President would never give up a country which he had bought from its rightful owners, nor would he suffer his people to be injured with impunity. This closed the interview, and the next day Tecumtha started with his party for the south to visit the Creek and Choctaw. About the same time it was learned that the British had sent a message to the prophet, telling him that the time had now come for him to take up the hatchet, and inviting him to send a party to their headquarters at Malden (now Amherstburg, Ontario) to receive the necessary supplies. In view of these things Harrison suggested to the War Department that opportunity be taken of Tecumtha’s absence in the south to strike a blow against his confederacy. Continuing in the same letter, he says of the great Indian leader:

The implicit obedience and respect which the followers of Tecumseh pay to him is really astonishing, and more than any other circumstance bespeaks him one of those uncommon geniuses which spring up occasionally to produce revolutions and overturn the established order of things. If it were not for the vicinity of the United States, he would perhaps be the founder of an empire that would rival in glory Mexico or Peru. No difficulties deter him. For four years he has been in constant motion. You see him to-day on the Wabash, and in a short time hear of him on the shores of Lake Erie or Michigan or on the banks of the Mississippi, and wherever he goes he makes an impression favorable to his purposes. He is now upon the last round, to put a finishing stroke to his work. I hope, however, before his return that that part of the fabric which he considered complete will be demolished, and even its foundations rooted up. (Drake, Tecumseh, 5.)

On this trip Tecumtha went as far as Florida and engaged the Seminole for his confederacy. Then, retracing his steps into Alabama, he came to the ancient Creek town of Tukabachi, on the Tallapoosa, near the present site of Montgomery. What happened here is best told in the words of McKenney and Hall, who derived their information from Indians at the same town a few years later:

He made his way to the lodge of the chief called the Big Warrior. He explained his object, delivered his war talk, presented a bundle of sticks, gave a piece of wampum and a war hatchet—all which the Big Warrior took—when Tecumthé, reading the spirit and intentions of the Big Warrior, looked him in the eye, and, pointing his finger toward his face, said: “Your blood is white. You have taken my talk, and the sticks, and the wampum, and the hatchet, but you do not mean to fight. I know the reason. You do not believe the Great Spirit has sent me. You shall know. I leave Tuckhabatchee directly, and shall go straight to Detroit. When I arrive there, I will stamp on the ground with my foot and shake down every house in Tuckhabatchee.” So saying, he turned and left the Big Warrior in utter amazement at both his manner and his threat, and pursued his journey. The Indians were struck no less with his conduct than was the Big Warrior, and began to dread the arrival of the day when the threatened calamity would befall them. They met often and talked over this matter, and counted the days carefully to know the day when Tecumthé would reach Detroit. The morning they had fixed upon as the day of his arrival at last came. A mighty rumbling was heard—the Indians all ran out of their houses—the earth began to shake; when at last, sure enough, every house in Tuckhabatchee was shaken down. The exclamation was in every mouth, “Tecumthé has got to Detroit!” The effect was electric. The message he had delivered to the Big Warrior was believed, and many of the Indians took their rifles and prepared for the war. The reader will not be surprised to learn that an earthquake had produced all this; but he will be, doubtless, that it should happen on the very day on which Tecumthé arrived at Detroit, and in exact fulfillment of his threat. It was the famous earthquake of New Madrid on the Mississippi. (McKenney and Hall, 1.)

The fire thus kindled among the Creek by Tecumtha was fanned into a blaze by the British and Spanish traders until the opening of the war of 1812 gave the opportunity for the terrible outbreak known in history as the Creek war.

While Tecumtha was absent in the south, affairs were rapidly approaching a crisis on the Wabash. The border settlers demanded the removal of the prophet’s followers, stating in their memorial to the President that they were “fully convinced that the formation of this combination headed by the Shawano prophet was a British scheme, and that the agents of that power were constantly exciting the Indians to hostility against the United States.” Governor Harrison now sent messages to the different tribes earnestly warning them of the consequences of a hostile outbreak, but about the same time the prophet himself announced that he had now taken up the tomahawk against the United States, and would only lay it down with his life, unless the wrongs of the Indians were redressed. It was known also that he was arousing his followers to a feverish pitch of excitement by the daily practice of mystic rites.

Harrison now determined to break up the prophet’s camp. Accordingly, at the head of about 900 men, including about 250 regulars, he marched from Vincennes, and on the 5th of November, 1811, encamped within a few miles of the prophet’s town. The Indians had fortified the place with great care and labor. It was sacred to them as the spot where the rites of the new religion had been so long enacted, and by these rites they believed it had been rendered impregnable to the attacks of the white man. The next day he approached still nearer, and was met by messengers from the town, who stated that the prophet was anxious to avoid hostilities and had already sent a pacific message by several chiefs, who had unfortunately gone down on the other side of the river and thus had failed to find the general. A truce was accordingly agreed on until the next day, when terms of peace were to be arranged between the governor and the chiefs. The army encamped on a spot pointed out by the Indians, an elevated piece of ground rising out of a marshy prairie, within a mile of the town. Although Harrison did not believe that the Indians would make a night attack, yet as a precaution he had the troops sleep on their arms in order of battle.

At 4 o’clock in the morning of the 7th, Governor Harrison, according to his practice, had risen preparatory to the calling up the troops, and was engaged, while drawing on his boots by the fire, in conversation with General Wells, Colonel Owen, and Majors Taylor and Hurst. The orderly drum had been roused for the purpose of giving the signal for the troops to turn out, when the attack of the Indians suddenly commenced upon the left flank of the camp. The whole army was instantly on its feet, the campfires were extinguished, the governor mounted his horse and proceeded to the point of attack. Several of the companies had taken their places in the line within forty seconds from the report of the first gun, and the whole of the troops were prepared for action in the course of two minutes, a fact as creditable to their own activity and bravery as to the skill and bravery of their officers. The battle soon became general, and was maintained on both sides with signal and even desperate valor. The Indians advanced and retreated by the aid of a rattling noise, made with deer hoofs, and persevered in their treacherous attack with an apparent determination to conquer or die upon the spot. The battle raged with unabated fury and mutual slaughter until daylight, when a gallant and successful charge by our troops drove the enemy into the swamp and put an end to the conflict.

Prior to the assault the prophet had given assurances to his followers that in the coming contest the Great Spirit would render the arms of the Americans unavailing; that their bullets would fall harmless at the feet of the Indians; that the latter should have light in abundance, while the former would be involved in thick darkness. Availing himself of the privilege conferred by his peculiar office, and perhaps unwilling in his own person to attest at once the rival powers of a sham prophecy and a real American bullet, he prudently took a position on an adjacent eminence, and when the action began, he entered upon the performance of certain mystic rites, at the same time singing a war song. In the course of the engagement he was informed that his men were falling. He told them to fight on—it would soon be as he had predicted. And then, in louder and wilder strains, his inspiring battle song was heard commingling with the sharp crack of the rifle and the shrill war whoop of his brave but deluded followers. (Drake, Tecumseh, 6.)

Drake estimates the whole number of Indians engaged in the battle at between 800 and 1,000, representing all the principal tribes of the region, and puts the killed at probably not less than 50, with an unusually large proportion of wounded. Harrison’s estimate would seem to put the numbers much higher. The Americans lost 60 killed or mortally wounded, and 188 in all. (Drake, Tecumseh, 7.) In their hurried retreat the Indians left a large number of dead on the field. Believing on the word of the prophet that they would receive supernatural aid from above, they had fought with desperate bravery, and their defeat completely disheartened them. They at once abandoned their town and dispersed, each to his own tribe. Tecumtha’s great fabric was indeed demolished, and even its foundations rooted up.

The night before the engagement the prophet had performed some medicine rites by virtue of which he had assured his followers that half of the soldiers were already dead and the other half bereft of their senses, so that the Indians would have little to do but rush into their camp and finish them with the hatchet. The result infuriated the savages. They refused to listen to the excuses which are always ready to the tongue of the unsuccessful medicine-man, denounced him as a liar, and even threatened him with death. Deserted by all but a few of his own tribe, warned away from several villages toward which he turned his steps, he found refuge at last among a small band of Wyandot; but his influence and his sacred prestige were gone forever, and he lived out his remaining days in the gloom of obscurity.

From the south Tecumtha returned through Missouri, Iowa, and Illinois, everywhere making accessions to his cause, but reached the Wabash at last, just a few days after the battle, only to find his followers scattered to the four winds, his brother a refugee, and the great object of his life—a confederation of all the tribes—brought to nothing. His grief and disappointment were bitter. He reproached his brother in unmeasured terms for disobeying his instructions to preserve peace in his absence, and when the prophet attempted to reply, it is said that Tecumtha so far forgot his dignity as to seize his brother by the hair and give him a violent shaking, threatening to take his life.

Early in 1812 Tecumtha sent a message to Governor Harrison, informing him of his return from the south, and stating that he was now ready to make the proposed visit to the President. To this Harrison replied, giving his permission, but refusing to allow any party to accompany him. This stipulation did not please the great leader, who had been accustomed to the attendance of a retinue of warriors wherever he went. He declined the terms, and thus terminated his intercourse with the governor. In June, 1812, he visited the agent at Fort Wayne, and there reiterated the justice of his position in regard to the ownership of the Indian lands, again disclaimed having had any intention of making war against the United States, and reproached Harrison for marching against his people in his absence. In return, the agent endeavored to persuade him now to join forces with the United States in the approaching conflict with England. “Tecumtha listened with frigid indifference, made a few general remarks in reply, and then with a haughty air left the council house and took his departure for Malden, where he joined the British standard.” (Drake, Tecumseh, 8.) His subsequent career is a part of the history of the war of 1812.

Formal declaration of war against Great Britain was made by the United States on June 18, 1812. Tecumtha was already at Malden, the British headquarters on the Canadian side, and when invited by some friendly Indians to attend a council near Detroit in order to make arrangements for remaining neutral, he sent back word that he had taken sides with the king, and that his bones would bleach on the Canadian shore before he would recross the river to join in any council of neutrality. A few days later he led his Indians into battle on the British side. For his services at Maguaga he was soon afterward regularly commissioned a brigadier general in the British army.

We pass over the numerous events of this war—Maguaga, the Raisin, Fort Meigs, Perry’s victory—as being outside the scope of our narrative, and come to the battle of the Thames, October 5, 1813, the last ever fought by Tecumtha. After Perry’s decisive victory on the lake, Proctor hastily prepared to retreat into the interior, despite the earnest protests of Tecumtha, who charged him with cowardice, an imputation which the British general did not dare to resent. The retreat was begun with Harrison in close pursuit, until the British and Indians reached a spot on the north bank of the Thames, in the vicinity of the present Chatham, Ontario. Here, finding the ground favorable for defense, Tecumtha resolved to retreat no farther, and practically compelled Proctor to make a stand. The Indian leader had no hope of triumph in the issue. His sun had gone down, and he felt himself already standing in the shadow of death. He was done with life and desired only to close it, as became a warrior, striking a last blow against the hereditary enemy of his race. When he had posted his men, he called his chiefs about him and calmly said, “Brother warriors, we are now about to enter into an engagement from which I shall never come out—my body will remain on the field of battle.” He then unbuckled his sword, and, placing it in the hands of one of them, said, “When my son becomes a noted warrior and able to wield a sword, give this to him.” He then laid aside his British military dress and took his place in the line, clothed only in the ordinary deerskin hunting shirt. (Drake, Tecumseh, 9.) When the battle began, his voice was heard encouraging his men until he fell under the cavalry charge of the Americans, who had already broken the ranks of the British regulars and forced them to surrender. Deprived of their leader and deserted by their white allies, the Indians gave up the unequal contest and fled from the field. Tecumtha died in his forty-fourth year.

After the close of the war the prophet returned from Canada by permission of this government and rejoined his tribe in Ohio, with whom he removed to the west in 1827. (Schoolcraft, Ind. Tribes, 2.) Catlin, who met and talked with him in 1832, thus speaks of him:

This, no doubt, has been a very shrewd and influential man, but circumstances have destroyed him, as they have many other great men before him, and he now lives respected, but silent and melancholy, in his tribe. I conversed with him a great deal about his brother Tecumseh, of whom he spoke frankly, and seemingly with great pleasure; but of himself and his own great schemes he would say nothing. He told me that Tecumseh’s plans were to embody all the Indian tribes in a grand confederacy, from the province of Mexico to the Great Lakes, to unite their forces in an army that would be able to meet and drive back the white people, who were continually advancing on the Indian tribes and forcing them from their lands toward the Rocky mountains; that Tecumseh was a great general, and that nothing but his premature death defeated his grand plan. (Catlin, 2.)

+Chapter V+

KÄNAKÛK AND MINOR PROPHETS

KÄNAKÛK

My father, the Great Spirit holds all the world in his hands. I pray to him that we may not be removed from our lands.... Take pity on us and let us remain where we are.—Känakûk.

I was singularly struck with the noble efforts of this champion of the mere remnant of a poisoned race, so strenuously laboring to rescue the remainder of his people from the deadly bane that has been brought amongst them by enlightened Christians.—Catlin.

The scene now shifts to the west of the Mississippi. With the death of Tecumtha the confederacy of the northwestern tribes fell to pieces, and on the closing of the war of 1812 the government inaugurated a series of treaties resulting, within twenty years, in the removal of almost every tribe beyond the Mississippi and the appropriation of their former country by the whites. Among others the Kickapoo, by the treaty of Edwardsville in 1819, had ceded the whole of their ancient territory in Illinois, comprising nearly one-half the area of the state, in exchange for a much smaller tract on Osage river in Missouri and $3,000 in goods. (Treaties, 1.) The government also agreed to furnish two boats to take them up the river to their new home, where “the United States promise to guarantee to the said tribe the peaceable possession of the tract of land hereby ceded to them, and to restrain and prevent all white persons from hunting, settling, or otherwise intruding upon it.”

For some reason, however, the Kickapoo manifested no overwhelming desire to remove from their villages and cornfields on the broad prairies of Illinois to the rugged hills of Missouri. This may have been due to the innate perversity of the savage, or possibly to the fact that the new country guaranteed to them was already occupied by their hereditary enemies, the Osage, who outnumbered the Kickapoo three to one. To be sure, these aboriginal proprietors had agreed to surrender the territory to the United States, but they were still at home to all visitors, as the immigrant Cherokee had learned to their cost. Be that as it may, several years passed and it began to be suspected that the Kickapoo were not anxious to go west and grow up with the country. Investigation disclosed the fact that, instead of removing to the reservation on Osage river, one-half of the tribe had gone southward in a body and crossed over to the Spanish side of Red river (now Texas), where they might reasonably hope to be secure from the further advance of the Americans. Others were preparing to follow, and the government agents were instructed to make a strong effort to effect the immediate removal of the tribe to Missouri and to prevent the emigration of any more to the south.

It now appeared that they were encouraged to hold their ground by a new prophet who had sprung up among them, named Känakûk. The name (also spelled Kee-an-ne-kuk and Kanacuk), refers to putting the foot upon a fallen object, and does not denote “the foremost man,” as rendered by Catlin. In a letter written to General Clark, in February, 1827—a few days after the prophet himself had visited General Clark—the agent, Mr Graham, after reporting his failure to induce the tribe to remove, states that the prophet “had no idea of giving up his lands,” and continues:

This man has acquired an influence over his people through supposed revelations from God, which he urges on them with an eloquence, mildness, and firmness of manner that carries to their credulous ears conviction of his communications with God.

To give a favorable turn to his mind, I apparently gave credence to his statements of these revelations, and attempted to put a construction on them for him. He listened to me with great attention, and, after I had finished, said I might be right; that God would talk to him again and he would let me know what he said. In the meantime he would use his influence to get his people to move, but that he could not himself come over until all had removed; that there were many bad men yet among them, whom he hoped to convert to the ways of God, and then all would come over. He would preach to his men and warn them from taking away or injuring the property of the white people, and if any white man struck them—to use his own expression—he would bow his head and not complain; he would stop any attempt to take revenge. He seems to have a wonderful influence over those Indians who accompanied him. They neither drank nor painted, were serious, though not gloomy. (Ind. Off., 1.)

In the same month Känakûk himself visited General Clark at Saint Louis, and in the course of a long talk explained the origin of his divine mission and the nature of his doctrine, illustrating the subject by means of a peculiar diagram (figure 61), and closing with an earnest appeal in behalf of his people that they should be allowed to remain undisturbed. Although it was said by the traders that he had stolen his inspiration from a Methodist preacher, it is plain from an examination of his doctrine that he was the direct spiritual successor of Tenskwatawa and the Delaware prophet, who in their generation had preached to the same tribe. Like his predecessors, also, he condemned the use of “medicine bags” and medicine songs, which, although universal among the tribes, seem to have been regarded by the better class of Indians as witchcraft was in former days among the whites.

After the usual preliminary expressions of mutual friendship and good will, Känakûk stated that all his people were united in sentiment, and then proceeded to explain his religious views as follows:

My father, the Great Spirit has placed us all on this earth; he has given to our nation a piece of land. Why do you want to take it away and give us so much trouble? We ought to live in peace and happiness among ourselves and with you. We have heard of some trouble about our land. I have come down to see you and have all explained.

* * * * *

My father, the Great Spirit appeared to me; he saw my heart was in sorrow about our land; he told me not to give up the business, but go to my Great Father and he would listen to me. My father, when I talked to the Great Spirit, I saw the chiefs holding the land fast. He told me the life of our children was short and that the earth would sink.

My father, I will explain to you what the Great Spirit said to me—to do so, I must make some marks. The Great Spirit says: My father, we started from this point (A, figure 61). We are here now (B). When we get here (C), the Great Spirit will appear to me again. Here (B) the Great Spirit gave his blessings to the Indians and told them to tell his people to throw away their medicine bags and not to steal, not to tell lies, not to murder, not to quarrel, and to burn their medicine bags. If they did not, they could not get on the straight way, but would have to go the crooked path of the bad here (D); that when we got to this place (the curved line, E), we would not be able to cross it unless we were all good. It was fire. That we should go to this place (E), where there would be collected all the red chiefs and there would be a great preaching. That if we had not thrown away all our bad doings, these two points would meet (D and E), and then the Great Spirit would destroy everything and the world would be turned over. That if we would be good and throw away all our bad doings, we would cross this fire, when we would [come] to water (second line), which we would cross. There we would come to a country where there was nothing but a prairie and nothing grew upon it. There the sun would be hid from us by four black clouds. When we get here (C), the Great Spirit will explain these round marks.

My father, I have now explained as well as I can, with much pains, our situation. I wish you to tell me the truth and hide nothing from me. I have heard that some of your warriors are going to take up the tomahawk. I explained to you last fall our situation. We are now here (B), where we are in great trouble. I told you of all our troubles. I asked you to reflect on our situation and that we would come back to see you.

* * * * *

My father, you call all the redskins your children. When we have children, we treat them well. That is the reason I make this long talk to get you to take pity on us and let us remain where we are.

My father, I wish after my talk is over you would write to my Great Father, the president, that we have a desire to remain a little longer where we now are. I have explained to you that we have thrown all our badness away and keep the good path. I wish our Great Father could hear that. I will now talk to my Great Father, the president.

My Great Father, I don’t know if you are the right chief, because I have heard some things go wrong. I wish you to reflect on our situation and let me know. I want to talk to you mildly and in peace, so that we may understand each other. When I saw the Great Spirit, he told me to throw all our bad acts away. We did so. Some of our chiefs said the land belonged to us, the Kickapoos; but this is not what the Great Spirit told me—the lands belong to him. The Great Spirit told me that no people owned the lands—that all was his, and not to forget to tell the white people that when we went into council. When I saw the Great Spirit, he told me, Mention all this to your Great Father. He will take pity on your situation and let you remain on the lands where you are for some years, when you will be able to get through all the bad places (the marks in the figure), and where you will get to a clear piece of land where you will all live happy. When I talked to the Great Spirit, he told me to make my warriors throw their tomahawks in the bad place. I did so, and every night and morning I raise my hands to the Great Spirit and pray to him to give us success. I expect, my father, that God has put me in a good way—that our children shall see their sisters and brothers and our women see their children. They will grow up and travel and see their totems. The Great Spirit told me, “Our old men had totems. They were good and had many totems. Now you have scarcely any. If you follow my advice, you will soon have totems again.” Say this to my Great Father for me.[2]

* * * * *

My father, since I talked with the Great Spirit, our women and children and ourselves, we have not such good clothes, but we don’t mind that. We think of praying every day to the Great Spirit to get us safe to the good lands, where all will be peace and happiness.

My father, the Great Spirit holds all the world in his hands. I pray to him that we may not be removed from our land until we can see and talk to all our totems....

My father, when I left my women and children, they told me, “As you are going to see our Great Father, tell him to let us alone and let us eat our victuals with a good heart.”

* * * * *

My father, since my talk with the Great Spirit we have nothing cooked until the middle of the day. The children get nothing in the morning to eat. We collect them all to pray to the Great Spirit to make our hearts pure, and then eat. We bring our children up to be good.

My father, I will tell you all I know. I will put nothing on my back. God told me, Whenever you make a talk, tell everything true. Keep nothing behind, and then you will find everything go right.

* * * * *

My father, when I talked with the Great Spirit, he did not tell me to sell my lands, because I did not know how much was a dollar’s worth, or the game that run on it. If he told me so, I would tell you to-day.

My father, you have heard what I have said. I have represented to you our situation, and ask you to take pity on us and let us remain where we are....

My father, I have shown you in the lines I have made the bad places. Our warriors even are afraid of those dark places you see there. That is the reason they threw their tomahawks aside and put up their hands to the Great Spirit.

* * * * *

My father, every time we eat we raise our hands to the Great Spirit to give us success.

My father, we are sitting by each other here to tell the truth. If you write anything wrong, the Great Spirit will know it. If I say anything not true, the Great Spirit will hear it.

My father, you know how to write and can take down what is said for your satisfaction. I can not; all I do is through the Great Spirit for the benefit of my women and children.

My father, everything belongs to the Great Spirit. If he chooses to make the earth shake, or turn it over, all the skins, white and red, can not stop it. I have done. I trust to the Great Spirit. (Ind. Off., 2.)

A few years later, in 1831, Catlin visited Känakûk, who was still living with the remnant of his people in Illinois, and was then regarded as their chief. He still preached the same doctrine, which the artist incorrectly supposed was the Christian religion—probably from the fact that the meetings were held on Sunday in imitation of the whites—and especially was constantly and earnestly exhorting his tribesmen to cease from drinking whisky, which threatened to destroy their race. His influence had extended into Michigan, and many of the Potawatomi were counted among his disciples. Catlin, who painted his portrait (of which figure 60 is a reproduction), heard him preach, and expressed surprise and admiration at the ease and grace of his manner and his evident eloquent command of language. The traveler continues:

I was singularly struck with the noble efforts of this champion of the mere remnant of a poisoned race so strenuously laboring to rescue the remainder of his people from the deadly bane that has been brought amongst them by enlightened Christians. How far the efforts of this zealous man have succeeded in Christianizing, I can not tell, but it is quite certain that his exemplary and constant endeavors have completely abolished the practice of drinking whisky in his tribe, which alone is a very praiseworthy achievement, and the first and indispensable step toward all other improvements. I was some time amongst those people, and was exceedingly pleased and surprised also to witness their sobriety and their peaceable conduct, not having seen an instance of drunkenness, or seen or heard of any use made of spirituous liquors whilst I was amongst the tribe. (Catlin, 3.)

After mentioning, although apparently not crediting the assertion of the traders, that the prophet had borrowed his doctrines from a white man, Catlin goes on to describe a peculiar prayer-stick which Känakûk had given to his followers, and which reminds us at once of the similar device of the Delaware prophet of 1764, and is in line with the whole system of birchbark pictographs among the northern tribes. These sticks were of maple, graven with hieroglyphic prayers and other religious symbols. They were carved by the prophet himself, who distributed them to every family in the tribe, deriving quite a revenue from their sale, and in this way increasing his influence both as a priest and as a man of property. Apparently every man, woman, and child in the tribe was at this time in the habit of reciting the prayers from these sticks on rising in the morning and before retiring for the night. This was done by placing the right index finger first under the upper character while repeating a short prayer which it suggested, then under the next, and the next, and so on to the bottom, the whole prayer, which was sung as a sort of chant, occupying about ten minutes.

Without undertaking to pass judgement on the purity of the prophet’s motives, Catlin strongly asserts that his influence and example were good and had effectually turned his people from vice and dissipation to temperance and industry, notwithstanding the debasing tendency of association with a frontier white population.

The veteran missionary, Allis, also notes the use of this prayer stick as he observed it in 1834 among the Kickapoo, then living near Fort Leavenworth, in Kansas. The prophet’s followers were accustomed to meet for worship on Sunday, when Känakûk delivered an exhortation in their own language, after which they formed in line and marched around several times in single file, reciting the chant from their prayer-sticks and shaking hands with the bystanders as they passed. As they departed they continued to chant until they arrived at the “father’s house” or heaven, indicated by the figure of a horn at the top of the prayer-stick. The worshipers met also on Fridays and made confession of their sins, after which certain persons appointed for the purpose gave each penitent several strokes with a rod of hickory, according to the gravity of his offense. (Allis, 1.)

Through the kindness of Mr C. H. Bartlett, of South Bend, Indiana, the United States National Museum has recently come into possession of one of these prayer-sticks. The stick, of which plate +LXXXVI+ gives a good idea, is of maple, a little more than 12 inches in length, 2⁹⁄₁₆ inches in its greatest width, and three-eighths of an inch thick. It is said to have been painted a bright red on one side and a vivid green on the other. The paint has now disappeared, however, leaving bare the surface of the wood, polished from long use. One side is carved with the symbolic figures already mentioned, while the other is smooth. In all its details it is a neat specimen of Indian workmanship. According to the tradition of the Armstrong family, its former owners, the small square in the lower left-hand corner represents hell or the final abode of the wicked, while the house with the four pine (?) trees, at the top, symbolizes the spiritual home of the devout followers of the prophet. As is well known, four is the sacred number of many Indian tribes. The significance of several other lines above and below is unknown. Along the shaft of the stick from bottom to top are the prayer characters, arranged in three groups of five each, one group being near the bottom, while the others are along the upper portion of the shaft and are separated one from the other by a small circle. The characters bear some resemblance to the old black-letter type of a missal, while the peculiar arrangement is strongly suggestive of the Catholic rosary with its fifteen “mysteries” in three groups of five each. It will be remembered that the earliest and most constant missionaries among the Kickapoo and other lake tribes were Catholic, and we may readily see that their teachings and ceremonies influenced this native religion, as was afterward the case with the religions of Smohalla and the Ghost dance. Neither three nor five are commonly known as sacred numbers among the Indians, while three is distinctly Christian in its symbolism. It is perhaps superfluous to state that the ideas of heaven and hell are not aboriginal, but were among the first incorporated from the teachings of the white missionaries. The characters resembling letters may be from the alphabetic system of sixteen characters which it is said the Ojibwa invented for recording their own language, and taught to the Kickapoo and Sauk, and which resembled somewhat the letters of the Roman alphabet, from which they apparently were derived. (Hamilton, 1.)

This prayer-stick or “bible,” as it has been called, was obtained by Mr Bartlett from Mr R.V. Armstrong, of Mill Creek, Indiana, who stated that it was the only remaining one of a large number which had been in possession of the family for many years. The story of the manner in which it was originally obtained, as told by Mr Armstrong, is interesting. “His father, Reverend James Armstrong, was a Methodist minister and missionary who had been sent to northern Indiana in the early part of this century. In 1830, while living on Shawnee prairie, 3 miles from the present site of Attica, Indiana, a large band of Kickapoo Indians came to his house to visit the missionary, and apparently regarded the interview as of great importance to themselves. They declared that they were from beyond the Mississippi river, that they had heard of Mr Armstrong and his missionary labors, and that they believed him to be the one for whom their people had long been looking. Each Indian held in his hand one of these wooden crosses, and as they knelt on the grass in front of the missionary’s house, they went through their devotions in their own tongue, moving their fingers over the inscription that ascends the shaft of the cross. The missionary understood them to state that this cross was their “bible,” that they knew that it was not the true bible, but that they had been told to use it until one should come who would give them in exchange the genuine word of God. Thereupon the missionary gathered up their crosses—and there were more than a large basketful of them—and gave in exchange to each a copy of the New Testament. The Indians received the books with profuse expressions of gratitude and apparently viewed them at once as sacred possessions. These wise men from the west then went away to their far country.”

Känakûk died of smallpox in 1852, in Kansas, where his people had been removed in spite of his eloquent appeals in their behalf. For many years he had been recognized as the chief of his tribe, and as such exerted a most beneficial influence over the Kickapoo in restraining the introduction and use of liquor among them. At the same time he staunchly upheld the old Indian idea and resisted every advance of the missionaries and civilization to the last. He was regarded as possessed of supernatural powers, and in his last illness asserted that he would arise again three days after death. In expectation of the fulfillment of the prophecy, a number of his followers remained watching near the corpse until they too contracted the contagion and died likewise. (Comr., 1.) After his death, the decline of his tribe was rapid and without check. In 1894 there remained only 514, about equally divided between Kansas and Oklahoma. These few survivors of a large tribe still hold in loving reverence the name of their chief and prophet.

PA′THĔSKĔ

Recent personal investigation among the Winnebago failed to develop any knowledge of a former doctrine of an approaching destruction of the world, as mentioned in a statement already quoted (see page 661). It appeared, however, that at the time indicated, about 1852 or 1853, while the tribe was still living on Turkey river, Iowa, a prophet known as Pa′thĕskĕ, or Long Nose, announced that he had been instructed in a vision to teach his people a new dance, which he called the friendship dance (chû′‘korăki′). This they were to perform at intervals for one whole year, at the end of which time, in the spring, they must take the warpath against their hereditary enemy, the Sioux, and would then reap a rich harvest of scalps. The dance, as he taught it to them, he claimed to have seen performed by a band of spirits in the other world, whither he had been taken after a ceremonial fast of several days’ duration. It differed from their other dances, and, although warlike in its ultimate purpose, was not a war dance. It was performed by the men alone, circling around a fire within the lodge. He also designated a young man named Sara′minûka, or “Indistinct,” as the proper one to lead the expedition at the appointed time. The friendship dance went on all through the summer and winter until spring, when the prophet announced that he had received a new revelation forbidding the proposed expedition. His disgusted followers at once denounced him as an impostor and abandoned the dance. Sara′minûka was soon afterward killed by an accident, which was considered by the Indians a direct retribution for his failure to carry out his part of the program. The prophet died a few years later while on a visit to Washington with a delegation of his tribe.

Although the old men consulted on the subject seemed to know nothing of any predicted destruction of the world in this connection, it is probable that the statement given by Agent Fletcher at the time was correct, as such cycle myths are very general among the Indian and other primitive tribes. The Arapaho informed the author that we are now living in the sixth cycle, and that the final catastrophe will take place at the close of the seventh.

TÄ′VIBO

About 1870 another prophet arose among the Paiute in Nevada. As most Indian movements are unknown to the whites at their inception, the date is variously put from 1869 to 1872. He is said to have been the father of the present “messiah,” who has unquestionably derived many of his ideas from him, and lived, as does his son, in Mason valley, about 60 miles south of Virginia City, not far from Walker River reservation. In talking with his son, he said that his father’s name was Tä′vibo or “White man,” and that he was a capita (Spanish, capitan) or petty chief, but not a prophet or preacher, although he used to have visions and was invulnerable. From concurrent testimony of Indians and white men, however, there seems to be no doubt that he did preach and prophesy and introduce a new religious dance among his people, and that the doctrine which he promulgated and the hopes which he held out twenty years ago were the foundation on which his son has built the structure of the present messiah religion. He was visited by Indians from Oregon and Idaho, and his teachings made their influence felt among the Bannock and Shoshoni, as well as among all the scattered bands of the Paiute, to whom he continued to preach until his death a year or two later. (G. D., 1 and 2; A. G. O., 1; Phister, 1.)

Captain J. M. Lee, Ninth infantry, formerly on the staff of General Miles, was on duty in that neighborhood at the time and gives the following account of the prophet and his doctrines in a personal letter to the author:

I was on Indian duty in Nevada in 1869, 1870, and 1871. When visiting Walker Lake reservation in 1869–70, I became acquainted with several superstitious beliefs then prevailing among the Paiute Indians. It was a rough, mountainous region roundabout, and mysterious happenings, according to tradition, always occurred when the prophet or medicine-men went up into the mountains and there received their revelations from the divine spirits. In the earlier part of the sixties the whites began to come in and appropriate much of the Indian country in Nevada, and in the usual course it turned out that the medicine-men or prophets were looked to for relief. The most influential went up alone into the mountain and there met the Great Spirit. He brought back with him no tablets of stone, but he was a messenger of good tidings to the effect that within a few moons there was to be a great upheaval or earthquake. All the improvements of the whites—all their houses, their goods, stores, etc.—would remain, but the whites would be swallowed up, while the Indians would be saved and permitted to enjoy the earth and all the fullness thereof, including anything left by the wicked whites. This revelation was duly proclaimed by the prophet, and attracted a few believers, but the doubting skeptics were too many, and they ridiculed the idea that the white men would fall into the holes and be swallowed up while the Indians would not. As the prophet could not enforce his belief, he went up into the mountain again and came back with a second revelation, which was that when the great disaster came, all, both Indians and whites, would be swallowed up or overwhelmed, but that at the end of three days (or a few days) the Indians would be resurrected in the flesh, and would live forever to enjoy the earth, with plenty of game, fish, and pine nuts, while their enemies, the whites, would be destroyed forever. There would thus be a final and eternal separation between Indians and whites.

This revelation, which seemed more reasonable, was rather popular for awhile, but as time wore along faith seemed to weaken and the prophet was without honor even in his own country. After much fasting and prayer, he made a third trip to the mountain, where he secured a final revelation or message to the people. The divine spirit had become so much incensed at the lack of faith in the prophecies, that it was revealed to his chosen one that those Indians who believed in the prophecy would be resurrected and be happy, but those who did not believe in it would stay in the ground and be damned forever with the whites.

It was not long after this that the prophet died, and the poor miserable Indians worried along for nearly two decades, eating grasshoppers, lizards, and fish, and trying to be civilized until the appearance of this new prophet Quoit-tsow, who is said to be the son, either actual or spiritual, of the first one.

Additional details are given in the following interesting extract from a letter addressed to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, under date of November 19, 1890, by Mr Frank Campbell, who has an intimate acquaintance with the tribe and was employed in an official capacity on the reservation at the time when Tävibo first announced the new revelation. It would appear from Mr Campbell’s statement that under the new dispensation both races were to meet on a common level, and, as this agrees with what Professor Thompson, referred to later on, afterward found among the eastern Paiute, it is probable that the original doctrine had been very considerably modified since its first promulgation a few years before.

Eighteen years ago I was resident farmer on Walker Lake Indian reserve, Nevada. I had previously been connected with the Indian service at the reserve for ten years, was familiar with the Paiute customs, and personally acquainted with all the Indians in that region. In 1872 an Indian commenced preaching a new religion at that reserve that caused a profound sensation among the Paiute. For several months I was kept in ignorance of the cause of the excitement—which was remarkable, considering the confidence they had always reposed in me. They no doubt expected me to ridicule the sayings of the new messiah, as I had always labored among them to break down, their superstitious beliefs. When finally I was made acquainted with, the true facts of the case, I told them, the preachings of Waugh-zee-waugh-ber were good and no harm could come from it. Indian emissaries visited the reserve from Idaho, Oregon, and other places, to investigate the new religion. I visited the Indian camp while the prophet was in a trance and remained until he came to. In accordance with instructions, the Indians gathered around him and joined in a song that was to guide the spirit back to the body. Upon reanimation he gave a long account of his visit in the spirit to the Supreme Ruler, who was then on the way with all the spirits of the departed dead to again reside upon this earth and change it into a paradise. Life was to be eternal, and no distinction was to exist between races.

This morning’s press dispatches contain an account of Porcupine’s visit to Walker lake ... that proves to me that the religion started at Walker lake eighteen years ago is the same that is now agitating the Indian world. There is nothing in it to cause trouble between whites and Indians unless the new Messiah is misquoted and his doctrine misconstrued. I left Walker Lake reserve in June, 1873, and at the time supposed this craze would die out, but have several times since been reminded by Nevada papers and letters that it was gradually spreading. (G. D., 3.)

The name given by Campbell certainly does not much resemble Tävibo, but it is quite possible that the father, like the son, had more than one name. It is also possible that “Waughzeewaughber” was not the prophet described by Captain Lee, but one of his disciples who had taken up and modified the original doctrine. The name Tävibo refers to the east (tävänagwat) or place where the sun (täbi) rises. By the cognate Shoshoni and Comanche the whites are called Taivo.

From oral information of Professor A. H. Thompson, of the United States Geological Survey, I learn some particulars of the advent of the new doctrine among the Paiute of southwestern Utah. While his party was engaged in that section in the spring of 1875, a great excitement was caused among the Indians by the report that two mysterious beings with white skins (it will be remembered that the father of Wovoka was named Tävibo or “white man”) had appeared among the Paiute far to the west and announced a speedy resurrection of all the dead Indians, the restoration of the game, and the return of the old-time primitive life. Under the new order of things, moreover, both races alike were to be white. A number of Indians from Utah went over into Nevada, where they met others who claimed to have seen these mysterious visitors farther in the west. On their return to Utah they brought back with them the ceremonial of the new belief, the chief part of the ritual being a dance performed at night in a circle, with no fire in the center, very much as in the modern Ghost dance.

It is said that the Mormons, who hold the theory that the Indians are the descendants of the supposititious “ten lost tribes,” cherish, as a part of their faith, the tradition that some of the lost Hebrew emigrants are still ice-bound in the frozen north, whence they will one day emerge to rejoin their brethren in the south. When the news of this Indian revelation came to their ears, the Mormon priests accepted it as a prophecy of speedy fulfillment of their own traditions, and Orson Pratt, one of the most prominent leaders, preached a sermon, which was extensively copied and commented on at the time, urging the faithful to arrange their affairs and put their houses in order to receive the long-awaited wanderers.

According to the statement of the agent then in charge at Fort Hall, in Idaho, the Mormons at the same time—the early spring of 1875—sent emissaries to the Bannock, urging them to go to Salt Lake City to be baptized into the Mormon religion. A large number accepted the invitation without the knowledge of the agent, went down to Utah, and were there baptized, and then returned to work as missionaries of the new faith among their tribes. As an additional inducement, free rations were furnished by the Mormons to all who would come and be baptized, and “they were told that by being baptized and going to church the old men would all become young, the young men would never be sick, that the Lord had a work for them to do, and that they were the chosen people of God to establish his kingdom upon the earth,” etc. It is also asserted that they were encouraged to resist the authority of the government. (Comr., 2.) However much of truth there may be in these reports, and we must make considerable allowance for local prejudice, it is sufficiently evident that the Mormons took an active interest in the religious ferment then existing among the neighboring tribes and helped to give shape to the doctrine which crystallized some years later in the Ghost dance.

NAKAI′-DOKLĬ′NI

Various other prophets of more or less local celebrity have arisen from time to time among the tribes, and the resurrection of the dead and the return of the olden things have usually figured prominently in their prophecies. In fact, this idea has probably been the day-dream of every Indian medicine-man since the whites first landed in America. Most of these, however, have been unknown to fame outside of their own narrow circles, except where chance or deliberate purpose has given a warlike meaning to their teachings and thus made them the subjects of official notice.

Among these may be mentioned the Apache medicine-man Nakai′-doklĭ′ni, who attracted some attention for a time in southern Arizona in 1881. (Bourke, 1.) In the early part of this year he began to advertise his supernatural powers, claiming to be able to raise the dead and commune with spirits, and predicting that the whites would soon be driven from the land. He taught his followers a new and peculiar dance, in which the performers were ranged like the spokes of a wheel, all facing inward, while he, standing in the center, sprinkled them with the sacred hoddentin[3] as they circled around him.

In June of 1881 he announced to his people, the White Mountain band of Apache on San Carlos reservation, that on condition of receiving a sufficient number of horses and blankets for his trouble he would bring back from the dead two chiefs who had been killed a few months before. The proposition naturally aroused great excitement among the Indians. Eager to have once more with them their beloved chiefs, they willingly produced the required ponies, and when remonstrated with by the agent, replied that they would wait until the specified time for the fulfillment of the prediction, when, if the dead chiefs failed to materialize, they would demand the restoration of the property. (Comr., 3.)

Accordingly Nakai′-doklĭ′ni began his prayers and ceremonies, and the dance was kept up regularly at his camp on Cibicu creek until August, when it was reported to Colonel E. A. Carr; commanding at Fort Apache, that the medicine-man had announced that the dead chiefs refused to return because of the presence of the whites, but that when the whites left, the dead would return, and that the whites would be out of the country when the corn was ripe.

As matters seemed to be getting serious, the agent now called on the commanding officer to “arrest or kill him, or both.” The officer prepared to make the arrest when Nakai′-doklĭ′ni should come down to the post to lead the dance which had been arranged to take place in a few days. The prophet failed to put in an appearance, however, and messengers were sent to his camp to ask him to come to the fort the next Sunday. To this message he returned an evasive reply, whereon Colonel Carr, with 85 white troops and 23 Apache scouts, started for his camp in Cibicu canyon to put him under arrest. They arrived at the village on August 30. Nakai′-doklĭ′ni submitted quietly to arrest, but as the troops were making camp for the night, their own scouts, joined by others of the Indians, opened fire on them. A sharp skirmish ensued, in which several soldiers were killed or wounded, but the Indians were repulsed with considerable loss, including the prophet himself, who was killed at the first fire. The result was another in the long series of Apache outbreaks. (Comr., 4; Sec. War, 1; A. G. O., 2.)

THE POTAWATOMI PROPHET

In 1883 a new religion was introduced among the Potawatomi and Kickapoo, of the Pottawotomie and Great Nemaha agency in northeastern Kansas, by visiting Potawatomi, Winnebago, and Ojibwa from Wisconsin. As usual, the ritual part consists chiefly of a ceremonial dance. In doctrine it teaches the same code of morality enjoined by the ten commandments, and especially prohibits liquor drinking, gambling, and horse racing, for which, reason the agents generally have not seen fit to interfere with it, and in some cases have rather encouraged it as a civilizing influence among that portion of the tribes not yet enrolled in Christian denominations. The movement is entirely distinct from the Ghost dance, and may perhaps be a revival of the system preached by Känakûk more than fifty years before. In 1891 the majority of the two tribes, numbering in all 749, were reported as adherents of the doctrine. (Comr., 5, 6, 7; also reports from the same agency for 1887 and 1889.) A large number of the Sauk and Fox, Kickapoo, and Potawatomi of Oklahoma are also believers in the religion.

In 1885 Agent Patrick says on this subject:

These Indians are chaste, cleanly, and industrious, and would be a valuable acquisition to the Prairie band if it were not for their intense devotion to a religious dance started among the northern Indians some years since. This dance was introduced to the Prairie band about two years ago by the Absentee Pottawatomies and Winnebagoes, and has spread throughout the tribes in the agency. They seem to have adopted the religion as a means of expressing their belief in the justice and mercy of the Great Spirit and of their devotion to him, and are so earnest in their convictions as to its affording them eternal happiness that I have thought it impolitic so far to interfere with it any further than to advise as few meetings as possible and to discountenance it in my intercourse with the individuals practicing the religion. It is not an unmixed evil, as under its teaching drunkenness and gambling have been reduced 75 per cent, and a departure from virtue on the part of its members meets with the severest condemnation. As some tenets of revealed religion are embraced in its doctrines, I do not consider it a backward step for the Indians who have not heretofore professed belief in any Christian religion, and believe its worst features are summed up in the loss of time it occasions and the fanatical train of thought involved in the constant contemplation of the subject. (Comr., 6.)

CHEEZ-TAH-PAEZH THE SWORD-BEARER

It is probable that something of the messiah idea entered into the promises held out to his followers by Sword-bearer, a Crow medicine-man, in Montana in 1887. The official records are silent on this point, although it is definitely stated that he asserted his own invulnerability, and that his claims in this respect were implicitly believed by his people. Cheez-tah-paezh, literally “Wraps his tail” (also written Cheeschapahdisch, Cheschopah, Chese-cha-pahdish, and Chese-Topah), was without any special prominence in his tribe until the summer of 1887, when, in company with several other young men of the Crows, he participated in the sun dance of the Cheyenne, and showed such fortitude in enduring the dreadful torture that he was presented by the Cheyenne with a medicine saber painted red, in virtue of which he took the title of Sword-bearer. This naturally brought him into notice at home, and he soon aspired to become a chief and medicine-man. Among other things, he asserted that no bullet or weapon had power to harm him. What other claims he made are not known, but his words produced such an impression, it is said, that for a time every full-blood and half-blood among the Crows believed in him.

In a few months he had become one of the most influential leaders in the tribe, when, taking advantage of some dissatisfaction toward the agent, he headed a demonstration against the agency on September 30. Troops under General Ruger were called on to arrest him and the others concerned, and in attempting to do this, on November 5, 1887, a skirmish ensued in which Sword-bearer was killed. His death convinced his followers of the falsehood of his pretensions, and the tribe, which hitherto had always been loyal to the government, soon resumed its friendly attitude. (Sec. War, 2; A. G. O., 3; additional details from a personal letter by Colonel Simon Snyder, Fifteenth infantry.)

The action is graphically described by Roosevelt on the authority of one of the officers engaged. When the troops arrived, they found the Crow warriors awaiting them on a hill, mounted on their war ponies and in full paint and buckskin. In this author’s words—

The Crows on the hilltop showed a sullen and threatening front, and the troops advanced slowly toward them, and then halted for a parley. Meanwhile a mass of black thunder clouds gathering on the horizon threatened one of those cloudbursts of extreme severity and suddenness so characteristic of the plains country. While still trying to make arrangements for a parley, a horseman started out of the Crow ranks and galloped headlong down toward the troops. It was the medicine chief Sword-bearer. He was painted and in his battle dress, wearing his war bonnet of floating, trailing eagle feathers, and with the plumes of the same bird braided in the mane and tail of his fiery little horse. On he came at a gallop almost up to the troops, and then began to circle around them, calling and singing, and throwing his red sword into the air, catching it by the hilt as it fell. Twice he rode completely around the troops, who stood in uncertainty, not knowing what to make of his performance, and expressly forbidden to shoot at him. Then, paying no further heed to them, he rode back toward the Crows. It appears that he had told the latter that he would ride twice around the hostile force, and by his incantations would call down rain from heaven, which would make the hearts of the white men like water, so that they would go back to their homes. Sure enough, while the arrangements for the parley were still going forward, down came the cloudburst, drenching the command, and making the ground on the hills in front nearly impassable; and before it dried a courier arrived with orders to the troops to go back to camp.

This fulfillment of Sword-bearer’s prophecy of course raised his reputation to the zenith, and the young men of the tribe prepared for war, while the older chiefs, who more fully realized the power of the whites, still hung back. When the troops next appeared, they came upon the entire Crow force, the women and children with their tepees being off to one side beyond a little stream, while almost all the warriors of the tribe were gathered in front. Sword-bearer started to repeat his former ride, to the intense irritation of the soldiers. Luckily, however, this time some of his young men could not be restrained. They, too, began to ride near the troops, and one of them was unable to refrain from firing on Captain Edwards’s troop, which was in the van. This gave the soldiers their chance. They instantly responded with a volley, and Edwards’s troop charged. The fight lasted only a minute or two, for Sword-bearer was struck by a bullet and fell; and as he had boasted himself invulnerable and promised that his warriors should be invulnerable also if they would follow him, the hearts of the latter became as water, and they broke in every direction. (Roosevelt, 1.)

+Chapter VI+

THE SMOHALLA RELIGION OF THE COLUMBIA REGION

SMOHALLA

I have only one heart. Although you say, Go to another country, my heart is not that way. I do not want money for my land. I am here, and here is where I am going to be. I will not part with lands, and if you come again I will say the same thing. I will not part with my lands.—Umatilla Chief.

We have never made any trade. The earth is part of my body, and I never gave up the earth. So long as the earth keeps me I want to be let alone.—Toohulhulsote.

Their only troubles arise from the attempts of white men to encroach upon the reservations. I verily believe that were the snow-crowned summits of Mount Rainier set apart as an Indian reservation, white men would immediately commence jumping them.—Superintendent Ross.

About the time that the Paiute were preparing for the millennial dawn, we begin to hear of a “dreamer prophet” on the Columbia, called Smohalla, who was becoming a thorn in the flesh of the Indian agents in that quarter, and was reported to be organizing among the Indians a new religion which taught the destruction of the whites and resistance to the government, and made moral virtues of all the crimes in the catalog. One agent, in disregard of grammar if not of veracity, gravely reported that “the main object is to allow a plurality of wives, immunity from punishment for lawbreaking, and allowance of all the vices—especially drinking and gambling—are chief virtues in the believers of this religion.” (Comr., 8.)

This was bad enough, but worse was behind it. It appeared that Smohalla and his followers, numbering perhaps about 2,000 Indians of various tribes along the Columbia in eastern Washington and Oregon, had never made treaties giving up any of their lands, and consequently claimed the right to take salmon in the streams and dig kamas in the prairies of their ancestral country undisturbed and unmolested, and stoutly objected to going on any of the neighboring reservations at Yakima, Umatilla, or Warmspring. There is no doubt that justice and common sense were on the side of the Indians, for by the reports of the agents themselves it is shown that the dwellers on the reservations were generally neglected, poor, and miserable, and subjected to constant encroachments by the whites in spite of treaties and treaty lines, while at the same time that agents and superintendents were invoking the aid of the military to compel Smohalla’s followers to go on a reservation these same men were moving heaven and earth to force the Indians already on a reservation to give up their treaty rights and remove to another and less valuable location—to begin life anew under the fostering care of the government until such time as the white man should want them to move on again.

These matters are treated at length in the annual reports of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, with the accompanying reports of superintendents and agents in charge of the reservations concerned, from 1870 to 1875. With regard to the Umatilla reservation, to which most strenuous efforts were made to remove the “renegades,” as they were called, Agent Boyle reports in 1870 (Comr., 9) that the Indians are “dispirited ... in consequence of the oft-repeated theme that their farms are to be taken from them and given to the white settlers.” He continues, “It is hardly to be expected that the Indians can retain this reservation much longer unless the strong arm of the government protects them. Daily I am called upon to notify the white settlers that they are encroaching upon the Indian lands.” He advises their removal to a permanent reservation, “knowing as I do that they must go sooner or later.” Again, “The agency has been established for the space of ten years, and I regret exceedingly that I have been most completely disappointed with what I see about me.” In discussing the removal of the Indians to a new reservation, Superintendent Meacham says of a considerable portion of them that it “would suit them better to be turned loose to look out for themselves.” (Comr., 10.)

In 1873 Agent Cornoyer reported that the Indians numbered 837, by the census of 1870, which he believes was as correct as could then be taken, but “this number I think is now too high.” He continues:

Of the appropriation of $4,000 per annum for beneficial objects, not one single dollar of that fund has been turned over to me since September, 1871; and of the appropriation for incidental expenses of $40,000 per annum for the Indian service in this state, only $200 of that appropriation has been turned over to me during the same period of two years.... I would also beg leave to call your attention to that portion of my last annual report wherein I called the attention of the Department to the unfulfilled stipulations of the treaty of June 9, 1855, with these Indians. (Comr., 11.)

Commissioner Brunot, in 1871, stated that the estimated number of Indians coming under the provisions of the treaty at the time it was made in 1855 was 3,500, and “by the census taken in 1870 the number was 1,622”—a decrease of nearly one-half in fifteen years. Of these only about half were on the reservation, the rest being on Columbia river, “never having partaken of the benefits of the treaty.” On the next page he tells us what some of these benefits are: “Maladministration of agents, and the misapplication of funds, the failure of the government to perform the promises of the treaty, and the fact that the Indians have been constantly agitated by assertions that the government intended their removal, and that their removal was urged for several years in succession in the reports of a former agent, thus taking away from them all incentives to improve their lands.” (Comr., 12.)

In 1871 a commission was sent to Umatilla and other reservations, which gave the Indians a chance to speak for themselves. The Cayuse chief, described as a Catholic Indian, in dress, personal appearance, and bearing superior to the average American farmer, said:

This reservation is marked out for us. We see it with our eyes and our hearts. We all hold it with our bodies and our souls. Right out here are my father and mother, and brothers and sisters and children, all buried. I am guarding their graves. My friend, this reservation, this small piece of land, we look upon it as our mother, as if she were raising us. You come to ask me for my land. It is like as if we who are Indians were to be sent away and get lost.... What is the reason you white men who live near the reservation like my land and want to get it? You must not think so. My friends, you must not talk too strong about getting my land. I like my land and will not let it go.

The Wallawalla chief said:

I have tied all the reservation in my heart and it can not be loosened. It is dear as our bodies to us.

The Umatilla chief said:

Our red people were brought up here.... When my father and mother died, I was left here. They gave me rules and gave me their land to live upon. They left me to take care of them after they were buried. I was to watch over their graves. I do not wish to part with my land. I have felt tired working on my land, so tired that the sweat dropped off me on the ground. Where is all that Governor Stevens or General Palmer said [i. e., that it was to be a reservation for the Indians forever]? I am very fond of this land that is marked out for me.... Should I take only a small piece of ground and a white man sit down beside me, I fear there would be trouble all the time.

An old man said:

I am getting old now, and I want to die where my father and mother and children have died. I do not wish to leave this land and go off to some other land.... I see where I have sweat and worked in trying to get food. I love my church, my mills, my farm, the graves of my parents and children. I do not wish to leave my land. That is all my heart, and I show it to you.

A young chief said:

I have only one heart, one tongue. Although you say, Go to another country, my heart is not that way. I do not wish for any money for my land. I am here, and here is where I am going to be.... I will not part with lands, and if you come again I will say the same thing. I will not part with my lands.

The commissioner who was conducting the negotiations, after enumerating the promises made to the Indians in return for the lands which they had surrendered under the original treaty of 1855, tells how some of these promises have been fulfilled:

... A miserably inadequate supply of worn-out agricultural implements. A group of eight or ten dilapidated shanties used for the agency buildings. The physician promised has never resided upon the reservation, but lives and practices his profession at Pendleton. The hospital promised (fifteen years ago) has not yet been erected.

Of their ever-living grievance Colonel Ross, superintendent of the Washington agencies, says:

Their only troubles arise from the attempts of white men to encroach upon the reservations. A mania prevails among a certain class of citizens in this direction. I verily believe that were the snow-crowned summits of Mount Rainier set apart as an Indian reservation, white men would immediately commence jumping them. (Comr., 14.)

JOSEPH AND THE NEZ PERCÉ WAR

We first hear officially of Smohalla and his people from A. B. Meacham, superintendent of Indian affairs in Oregon, who states, in September, 1870, that—

... One serious drawback [to the adoption of the white man’s road] is the existence among the Indians of Oregon of a peculiar religion called Smokeller or Dreamers, the chief doctrine of which is that the red man is again to rule the country, and this sometimes leads to rebellion against lawful authority.

A few pages farther on we learn the nature of this rebellion:

The next largest band (not on a reservation) is Smokeller’s, at Priest rapids, Washington territory. They also refused to obey my order to come in, made to them during the month of February last, of which full report was made. I would also recommend that they be removed to Umatilla by the military. (Comr., 15.)

Three months before this report Congress had passed a bill appointing commissioners to negotiate with the tribes of Umatilla reservation “to ascertain upon what terms they would be willing to sell their lands and remove elsewhere,” and Meacham himself was the principal member of this commission. (Comr., 15.)

In 1872 Smohalla’s followers along the Columbia were reported to number 2,000, and his apostles were represented as constantly traveling from one reservation to another to win over new converts to his teachings. Repeated efforts had been made to induce them to go on the reservations in eastern Oregon and Washington, but without success. We are told now that—

They have a new and peculiar religion, by the doctrines of which they are taught that a new god is coming to their rescue; that all the Indians who have died heretofore, and who shall die hereafter, are to be resurrected; that as they will then be very numerous and powerful, they will be able to conquer the whites, recover their lands, and live as free and unrestrained as their fathers lived in olden times. Their model of a man is an Indian. They aspire to be Indians and nothing else.... It is thought by those who know them best that they can not be made to go upon their reservations without at least being intimidated by the presence of a military force. (Comr., 17.)

We hear but little more of Smohalla and his doctrines for several years, until attention was again attracted to Indian affairs in the northwest by the growing dissatisfaction which culminated in the Nez Percé war of 1877. The Nez Percés, especially those who acknowledged the leadership of Chief Joseph, were largely under the influence of the Dreamer prophets, and there was reason to believe that an uprising inaugurated by so prominent a tribe would involve all the smaller tribes in sympathy with the general Indian belief. As soon therefore as it became evident that matters were approaching a crisis, a commission, of which General O. O. Howard was chief, was appointed to make some peaceable arrangement with the so-called “renegades” on the upper Columbia. The commissioners met Smohalla and his principal men at Wallula, Washington territory, on April 23, 1877, and as a result of the council then held these non-treaty tribes, although insisting as strongly as ever on their right to live undisturbed in their own country, yet refrained from taking part in the war which broke out a few weeks later.

It is foreign to our purpose to recount the history of the Nez Percé war of 1877. As is generally the case with Indian wars, it originated in the unauthorized intrusion of lawless whites on lands which the Indians claimed as theirs by virtue of occupancy from time immemorial. The Nez Percés, whom all authorities agree in representing as a superior tribe of Indians, originally inhabited the valleys of Clearwater and Salmon rivers in Idaho, with the country extending west of Snake river into Washington and Oregon as far as the Blue mountains. They are first officially noticed in the report of the Indian Commissioner for 1843, where they are described as “noble, industrious, sensible,” and well disposed toward the whites, while “though brave as Cæsar, the whites have nothing to dread at their hands in case of their dealing out to them what they conceive to be right and equitable.” (Comr., 18.) It being deemed advisable to bring them into more direct relations with the United States, the agent who made the report called the chiefs together in this year and “assured them of the kind intentions of our government, and of the sad consequences that would ensue to any white man, from this time, who should invade their rights.” (Comr., 19.) On the strength of these fair promises a portion of the tribe, in 1855, entered into a treaty by which they ceded a large part of their territory, and were guaranteed possession of the rest. In 1860, however, gold was discovered in the country, and the usual result followed. “In defiance of law, and despite the protestations of the Indian agent, a townsite was laid off in October, 1861, on the reservation, and Lewiston, with a population of 1,200, sprung into existence.” (Comr., 20.) A new treaty was then made in 1863, by which the intruders were secured in possession of what they had thus seized, and the Nez Percés were restricted within much narrower limits. By this treaty the Wallowa valley, in northeastern Oregon, the ancestral home of that part of the tribe under the leadership of Chief Joseph, was taken from the Indians. This portion of the tribe, however, had refused to have part in the negotiations, and “Chief Joseph and his band, utterly ignoring the treaty of 1863, continued to claim the Wallowa valley, where he was tacitly permitted to roam without restraint, until the encroachments of white settlers induced the government to take some definite action respecting this band of non-treaty Nez Percés.” (Comr., 21.) At this time the tribe numbered about 2,800, of whom about 500 acknowledged Joseph as their chief.

Collisions between the whites and Indians in the valley became more frequent, and one of Joseph’s band had been killed, when a commission was appointed in 1876 to induce the Indians to give up the Wallowa valley and remove to Lapwai reservation in Idaho. Joseph still refusing to remove, the matter was turned over to General Howard. On May 3, 1877, he held the first council with Joseph and his followers at Fort Lapwai. Their ceremonial approach, which was probably in accord with the ritual teachings of the Dreamer religion, is thus described by the general:

A long rank of men, followed by women and children, with faces painted, the red paint extending back into the partings of the hair—the men’s hair braided and tied up with showy strings—ornamented in dress, in hats, in blankets with variegated colors, in leggings of buckskin and moccasins beaded and plain; women with bright shawls or blankets, and skirts to the ankle and top moccasins. All were mounted on Indian ponies as various in color as the dress of the riders. These picturesque people, after keeping us waiting long enough for effect, came in sight from up the valley from the direction of their temporary camp just above the company gardens. They drew near to the hollow square of the post and in front of the small company to be interviewed. Then they struck up their song. They were not armed except with a few tomahawk pipes that could be smoked with the peaceful tobacco or penetrate the skull bone of an enemy, at the will of the holder. Yet somehow this wild sound produced a strange effect. It made one feel glad that there were but fifty of them, and not five hundred. It was shrill and searching; sad, like a wail, and yet defiant in its close. The Indians swept around outside the fence and made the entire circuit, still keeping up the song as they rode. The buildings broke the refrain into irregular bubblings of sound until the ceremony was completed. (Howard, 1.)

At this conference Toohulhulsote, the principal Dreamer priest of Joseph’s band, acted as spokesman for the Indians, and insisted, according to the Smohalla doctrine, that the earth was his mother, that she should not be disturbed by hoe or plow, that men should subsist by the spontaneous productions of nature, and that the sovereignty of the earth could not be sold or given away. Continuing, he asserted, “We never have made any trade. Part of the Indians gave up their land. I never did. The earth is part of my body, and I never gave up the earth. So long as the earth keeps me I want to be left alone.” General Howard finally ordered him under arrest, after which the Indians at last agreed to go on a reservation by June 14. (Howard, 2.) A few days later, councils were held with Smohalla and his people, and with Moses, another noted “renegade” chief with a considerable following farther up the Columbia. Both chiefs, representing at least 500 warriors, disclaimed any hostile intentions and agreed to go on reservations. Smohalla said, “Your law is my law. I say to you, yes. I will be on a reservation by September.” (Howard, 3.) Parties under Joseph and other leading chiefs then went out to select suitable locations for reservations, Joseph and his band deciding in favor of Lapwai valley. Everything was moving smoothly toward a speedy and peaceful settlement of all difficulties, and the commission had already reported the successful accomplishment of the work, when a single act of lawless violence undid the labor of weeks and precipitated a bloody war. (Comr., 22.)

One of Joseph’s band had been murdered by whites some time before, but the Indians had remained quiet. (Comr., 23.) Now, while the Nez Percés were gathering up their stock to remove to the reservation selected, a band of white robbers attacked them, ran off the cattle, and killed one of the party in charge. Joseph could no longer restrain his warriors, and on June 13, 1877—one day before the date that had been appointed for going on the reservation—the enraged Nez Percés attacked the neighboring settlement on White Bird creek, Idaho, and killed 21 persons.[4] The war was begun. The troops under Howard were ordered out. The first fight occurred on June 17 at Hangman’s creek and resulted in the loss of 34 soldiers. Then came another on July 4 with a loss of 13 more. Then on July 12 another encounter by troops under General Howard himself, in which 11 soldiers were killed and 26 wounded. (Comr., 24.)

Then began one of the most remarkable exhibitions of generalship in the history of our Indian wars, a retreat worthy to be remembered with that of the storied ten thousand. With hardly a hundred warriors, and impeded by more than 350 helpless women and children—with General Howard behind, with Colonel (General) Miles in front, and with Colonel Sturgis and the Crow scouts coming down upon his flank—Chief Joseph led his little band up the Clearwater and across the mountains into Montana, turning at Big Hole pass long enough to beat back his pursuers with a loss of 60 men; then on by devious mountain trails southeast into Yellowstone park, where he again turned on Howard and drove him back with additional loss of men and horses; then out of Wyoming and north into Montana again, hoping to find safety on Canadian soil, until intercepted in the neighborhood of the Yellowstone by Colonel Sturgis in front with fresh troops and a detachment of Crow scouts, with whom they sustained two more encounters, this time with heavy loss of men and horses to themselves; then again eluding their pursuers, this handful of starving and worn-out warriors, now reduced to scarcely fifty able men, carrying their wounded and their helpless families, crossed the Missouri and entered the Bearpaw mountains. But new enemies were on their trail, and at last, when within 50 miles of the land of refuge, Miles, with a fresh army, cut off their retreat by a decisive blow, capturing more than half their horses, killing a number of the band, including Joseph’s brother and the noted chief Looking Glass, and wounding 40 others. (Comr., 25.)

Forced either to surrender or to abandon the helpless wounded, the women, and children, Joseph chose to surrender to Colonel Miles, on October 5, 1877, after a masterly retreat of more than a thousand miles. He claimed that this was “a conditional surrender, with a distinct promise that he should go back to Idaho in the spring.” (Comr., 26.) The statement of General Howard’s aid-de-camp is explicit on this point:

It was promised Joseph that he would be taken to Tongue river and kept there till spring, and then be returned to Idaho. General Sheridan, ignoring the promises made on the battlefield, ostensibly on account of the difficulty of getting supplies there from Fort Buford, ordered the hostiles to Leavenworth, ... but different treatment was promised them when they held rifles in their hands. (Sutherland, 1.)

Seven years passed before the promise was kept, and in the meantime the band had been reduced by disease and death in Indian Territory from about 450 to about 280.

This strong testimony to the high character of Joseph, and his people and the justice of their cause comes from the commissioner at the head of Indian affairs during and immediately after the outbreak:

I traveled with him in Kansas and the Indian Territory for nearly a week and found him to be one of the most gentlemanly and well-behaved Indians that I ever met. He is bright and intelligent, and is anxious for the welfare of his people.... The Nez Percés are very much superior to the Osages and Pawnees in the Indian Territory; they are even brighter than the Poncas, and care should be taken to place them where they will thrive.... It will be borne in mind that Joseph has never made a treaty with the United States, and that he has never surrendered to the government the lands he claimed to own in Idaho.... I had occasion in my last annual report to say that “Joseph and his followers have shown themselves to be brave men and skilled soldiers, who, with one exception, have observed the rules of civilized warfare, and have not mutilated their dead enemies.” These Indians were encroached upon by white settlers on soil they believed to be their own, and when these encroachments became intolerable they were compelled, in their own estimation, to take up arms. (Comr., 27a.)

In all our sad Indian history there is nothing to exceed in pathetic eloquence the surrender speech of the Nez Percé chief:

I am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed. Looking Glass is dead. Toohulhulsote is dead. The old men are all dead. It is the young men who say yes or no. He who led the young men is dead. It is cold and we have no blankets. The little children are freezing to death. My people, some of them, have run away to the hills and have no blankets, no food. No one knows where they are—perhaps freezing to death. I want to have time to look for my children and see how many of them I can find. Maybe I shall find them among the dead. Hear me, my chiefs. I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever. (Sec. War, 3.)

+Chapter VII+

SMOHALLA AND HIS DOCTRINE

My young men shall never work. Men who work can not dream, and wisdom comes to us in dreams.... You ask me to plow the ground. Shall I take a knife and tear my mother’s bosom? You ask me to dig for stone. Shall I dig under her skin for her bones? You ask me to cut grass and make hay and sell it and be rich like white men. But how dare I cut off my mother’s hair?—Smohalla.

We hear little of Smohalla for several years after the Nez Percé war until the opening of the Northern Pacific railroad in 1883 once more brought to a focus the land grievances of the Indians in that section. Along Yakima valley the railroad “was located through Indian fields and orchards, with little respect for individual rights,” while the host of prospective settlers who at once swarmed into the country showed the usual white man’s consideration for the native proprietors. Some of the Indians, breaking away from their old traditions in order to obtain permanent homes before everything should be taken up by the whites, had gone out and selected homesteads under the law, and the agent was now using the Indian police to compel them to return to the reservation, “and the singular anomaly was presented of the United States Indian agent on the one hand applying for troops to drive the Indians from their homestead settlements to the reservation a hundred miles away, and on the other the Indians telegraphing to the military authorities to send troops to protect them from the Indian police.” (MacMurray MS.) In addition to their land troubles the Yakima and their confederated tribes, among whom were many progressive and even prosperous Indians, were restive under constant interference with their religious (Smohalla) ceremonies, to which a large proportion adhered.

In order to learn the nature of the dissatisfaction of the Indians, and if possible to remove the cause, General Miles, then commanding the military department of the Columbia, sent Major J. W. MacMurray to the scene of the disturbance in June, 1884. He spent about a year in the work, visiting the various villages of the upper Columbia, especially Pʿnä at Priest rapids, where he met Smohalla, the high priest of the Dreamer theology, and his report on the subject is invaluable.

Smohalla is the chief of the Wa′napûm, a small tribe in Washington, numbering probably less than 200 souls, commonly known rather indefinitely as “Columbia River Indians,” and roaming along both banks of the Columbia from the neighborhood of Priest rapids down to the entrance of Snake river. They are of Shahaptian stock and closely akin to the Yakima and Nez Percés, and have never made a treaty with the government. Among his own people and his disciples in the neighboring tribes he is known as Shmóqûla, “The Preacher.”[5] He is also frequently called Yu′yunipĭ′tqana, “The Shouting Mountain,” from a belief among his followers that a part of his revelation came to him from a mountain which became instinct with life and spoke into his soul while he lay dreaming upon it. Still another name by which he is sometimes known is Waip-shwa, or “Rock Carrier,” the reason for which does not appear. The name which belonged to him in youth, before assuming his priestly function, is now forgotten. For more than forty years he has resided at the Wanapûm village of Pʿnä on the west bank of the Columbia, at the foot of Priest rapids, in what is now Yakima county, Washington. The name Pʿnä signifies “a fish weir,” this point being a great rendezvous for the neighboring tribes during the salmon-fishing season. These frequent gatherings afford abundant opportunity for the teaching and dissemination of his peculiar doctrines, as is sufficiently evident from the fact that, while his own tribe numbers hardly two score families, his disciples along the river are counted by thousands.

Smohalla was born about 1815 or 1820, and is consequently now an old man, although still well preserved, and with his few scattering locks unchanged in color. At the time of the Nez Percé war he was in the full vigor of manhood. His appearance in 1884 is thus described by Major MacMurray: “In person Smohalla is peculiar. Short, thick-set, bald-headed and almost hunch-backed, he is not prepossessing at first sight, but he has an almost Websterian head, with a deep brow over bright, intelligent eyes. He is a finished orator. His manner is mostly of the bland, insinuating, persuasive style, but when aroused he is full of fire and seems to handle invectives effectively. His audience seemed spellbound under his magic manner, and it never lost interest to me, though he spoke in a language comprehended by few white men and translated to me at second or third hand.” By another writer who met him a year later he is described as rather undersized and inclining toward obesity, with “a reserved and cunning but not ill-natured countenance, and a large, well-shaped head. His manners were more suave and insinuating than is usual with Indians.” He had a comfortable appearance, his moccasins and leggings were new, and he rode a good pinto pony. (Huggins, 1.)

In his youth he had frequented the Catholic mission of Atahnam among the Yakima, where he became familiar with the forms of that service and also acquired a slight knowledge of French. Whether or not he was a regular member of the mission school is a disputed point, as it is asserted by some that he has never worn the white man’s dress or had his hair cut. The influence of the Catholic ceremonial is plainly visible in his own ritual performance. In his early manhood he distinguished himself as a warrior, and had already come to be regarded as a prominent man when he first began to preach his peculiar theology about the year 1850. There can be no question that the rapid spread of his doctrines among the tribes of the Columbia materially facilitated their confederation in the Yakima war of 1855–56. It is said that he aspired to be the leader in this war, and that, to attain this end, he invited all the neighboring bands to attend a council at his village of Pʿnä, but failed to accomplish his object.

Shortly after the close of the war, probably about 1860, the incident occurred which wrought an entire change in his life, stamping him as an oracle and prophet beyond peradventure, and giving to his religious system the force of authority which it has ever since retained. He had already established a reputation as a medicine-man, and was believed to be “making medicine” against the life of Moses, the noted chief of a tribe farther up the river, who was greatly in dread of his occult powers, and forced a quarrel in order to rid himself forever of his rival. A fight resulted, and Smohalla was nearly killed. It is said that he was left on the ground as dead, but revived sufficiently to crawl away and get into a boat on the bank of the Columbia near by. Bleeding and disabled, he was carried down at the mercy of the current until he was finally rescued from his perilous position by some white men, far below. His recovery was slow. When it was completed, unwilling to return in disgrace to his own country and probably still dreading the anger of Moses, he determined to become a wanderer.

Then began one of the most remarkable series of journeyings ever undertaken by an uncivilized Indian. Going down the Columbia to Portland and the coast, he turned south, and, stopping on the way at various points in Oregon and California, continued beyond San Diego into Mexico. Then, turning again, he came back through Arizona, Utah, and Nevada to his former home on the Columbia, where he announced that he had been dead and in the spirit world and had now returned by divine command to guide his people. As he was thought to have been killed in the encounter with Moses, and as he had disappeared so completely until now, his awe-stricken hearers readily believed that they were actually in the presence of one who had been taken bodily into the spirit world, whence he was now sent back as a teacher.

On the occasion of MacMurray’s visit, says that authority, “Smohalla asked me many geographic questions, and I spread out a railroad map, marking the situation of Priest rapids, Portland, and Vancouver barracks, and he traced with a straw down the coast line to below San Diego. He asked where San Bernardino was, and paused long over this. He recognized the ocean or ‘salt chuck,’ with many other geographic features and localities, but he would neither admit nor deny having been at Salt Lake City, although he admitted having been in Utah, knew the lake and adjacent mountain chains, and said that he had seen Mormon priests getting commands direct from heaven. He dwelt long over Arizona, and remarked, ‘bad-a Inchun.’”

Smohalla now declared to his people that the Sa′ghalee Tyee, the Great Chief Above, was angry at their apostasy, and commanded them through him to return to their primitive manners, as their present miserable condition in the presence of the intrusive race was due to their having abandoned their own religion and violated the laws of nature and the precepts of their ancestors. He then explained in detail the system to which they must adhere in future if they would conform to the expressed will of the higher power. It was a system based on the primitive aboriginal mythology and usage, with an elaborate ritual which combined with the genuine Indian features much of what he had seen and remembered of Catholic ceremonial and military parade, with perhaps also some additions from Mormon forms.

His words made a deep impression on his hearers. They had indeed abandoned their primitive simplicity to a great extent, and were now suffering the penalty in all the misery that had come to them with the advent of the white-skin race that threatened to blot them out from the earth. The voice of the prophet was accepted as a voice from the other world, for they knew that he had been dead and was now alive. What he said must be true and wise, for he had been everywhere and knew tribes and countries they had never heard of. Even the white men confirmed his words in this regard. He could even control the sun and the moon, for he had said when they would be dark, and they were dark.

If genius be a form of insanity, as has been claimed, intense religious enthusiasm would seem to have a close connection with physical as well as mental disease. Like Mohammed and Joan of Arc, and like the Shaker prophet of Puget sound, Smohalla is subject to cataleptic trances, and it is while in this unconscious condition that he is believed to receive his revelations. Says MacMurray:

He falls into trances and lies rigid for considerable periods. Unbelievers have experimented by sticking needles through his flesh, cutting him with knives, and otherwise testing his sensibility to pain, without provoking any responsive action. It was asserted that he was surely dead, because blood did not flow from the wounds. These trances always excite great interest and often alarm, as he threatens to abandon his earthly body altogether because of the disobedience of his people, and on each occasion they are in a state of suspense as to whether the Saghalee Tyee will send his soul back to earth to reoccupy his body, or will, on the contrary, abandon and leave them without his guidance. It is this going into long trances, out of which he comes as from heavy sleep and almost immediately relates his experiences in the spirit land, that gave rise to the title of “Dreamers,” or believers in dreams, commonly given to his followers by the neighboring whites. His actions are similar to those of a trance medium, and if self-hypnotization be practicable that would seem to explain it. I questioned him as to his trances and hoped to have him explain them to me, but he avoided the subject and was angered when I pressed him. He manifestly believes all he says of what occurs to him in this trance state. As we have hundreds of thousands of educated white people who believe in similar fallacies, this is not more unlikely in an Indian subjected to such influence.

In studying Smohalla we have to deal with the same curious mixture of honest conviction and cunning deception that runs through the history of priestcraft in all the ages. Like some other prophets before him, he seeks to convey the idea that he is in control of the elements and the heavenly bodies, and he has added greatly to his reputation by predicting several eclipses. This he was enabled to do by the help of an almanac and some little explanation from a party of surveyors. In this matter, however, he was soon made to realize that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. He could not get another almanac, and his astronomic prophecies came to an abrupt termination at the end of the first year. Concerning this, Major MacMurray says:

He showed me an almanac of a preceding year and asked me to readjust it for eclipses, as it did not work as it had formerly done. I explained that Washington (the Naval Observatory) made new ones every year, and that old ones could not be fixed up to date. He had probably obtained this one from the station agent at the railroad, now superseded by a new one, who had cut off Smohalla’s supply of astronomical data. My inability to repair the 1882 almanac for use in prognosticating in 1884 cost me much of his respect as a wise man from the east. (MacMurray MS.)

Smohalla had also a blank book containing mysterious characters, some of which resembled letters of the alphabet, and which he said were records of events and prophecies. MacMurray was unable to decide whether they were mnemonic or were simply unmeaning marks intended to foster among his followers the impression of his superior wisdom. It is probable that they were genuine mnemonic symbols invented by himself for his own purposes, as such systems, devised and used by single individuals or families, and unintelligible to others, are by no means rare among those who may be called the literary men of our aboriginal tribes.

As their principal troubles arose out of the disputed title to their lands, Major MacMurray was asked by the Indians to explain the Indian homestead law and how white men divided land. This was carefully done with the aid of a checkerboard, and they were shown how the land was mapped out into equal squares arranged on straight lines so that every man could find his own. They were then urged by the officer to apply for homesteads and settle upon them so as to avoid further trouble with the new settlers who were pouring into the country. Smohalla replied that he knew all this, but he did not like the new law, as it was against nature. He then went on to expound in detail the Indian cosmogony. Said he:

I will tell you about it. Once the world was all water and God lived alone. He was lonesome, he had no place to put his foot, so he scratched the sand up from the bottom and made the land, and he made the rocks, and he made trees, and he made a man; and the man had wings and could go anywhere. The man was lonesome, and God made a woman. They ate fish from the water, and God made the deer and other animals, and he sent the man to hunt and told the woman to cook the meat and to dress the skins. Many more men and women grew up, and they lived on the banks of the great river whose waters were full of salmon. The mountains contained much game and there were buffalo on the plains. There were so many people that the stronger ones sometimes oppressed the weak and drove them from the best fisheries, which they claimed as their own. They fought and nearly all were killed, and their bones are to be seen in the hills yet. God was very angry at this and he took away their wings and commanded that the lands and fisheries should be common to all who lived upon them; that they were never to be marked off or divided, but that the people should enjoy the fruits that God planted in the land, and the animals that lived upon it, and the fishes in the water. God said he was the father and the earth was the mother of mankind; that nature was the law; that the animals, and fish, and plants obeyed nature, and that man only was sinful. This is the old law.

I know all kinds of men. First there were my people (the Indians); God made them first. Then he made a Frenchman [referring to the Canadian voyagers of the Hudson Bay company], and then he made a priest [priests accompanied these expeditions of the Hudson Bay company]. A long time after that came Boston men [Americans are thus called in the Chinook jargon, because the first of our nation came into the Columbia river in 1796 in a ship from Boston], and then King George men [the English]. Later came black men, and last God made a Chinaman with a tail. He is of no account and has to work all the time like a woman. All these are new people. Only the Indians are of the old stock. After awhile, when God is ready, he will drive away all the people except those who have obeyed his laws.

Those who cut up the lands or sign papers for lands will be defrauded of their rights and will be punished by God’s anger. Moses was bad. God did not love him. He sold his people’s houses and the graves of their dead. It is a bad word that comes from Washington. It is not a good law that would take my people away from me to make them sin against the laws of God.

You ask me to plow the ground! Shall I take a knife and tear my mother’s bosom? Then when I die she will not take me to her bosom to rest.

You ask me to dig for stone! Shall I dig under her skin for her bones? Then when I die I can not enter her body to be born again.

You ask me to cut grass and make hay and sell it, and be rich like white men! But how dare I cut off my mother’s hair?

It is a bad law, and my people can not obey it. I want my people to stay with me here. All the dead men will come to life again. Their spirits will come to their bodies again. We must wait here in the homes of our fathers and be ready to meet them in the bosom of our mother. (MacMurray MS.)

The idea that the earth is the mother of all created things lies at the base, not only of the Smohalla religion, but of the theology of the Indian tribes generally and of primitive races all over the world. This explains Tecumtha’s reply to Harrison: “The sun is my father and the earth is my mother. On her bosom I will rest.” In the Indian mind the corn, fruits, and edible roots are the gifts which the earth-mother gives freely to her children. Lakes and ponds are her eyes, hills are her breasts, and streams are the milk flowing from her breasts. Earthquakes and underground noises are signs of her displeasure at the wrongdoing of her children. Especially are the malarial fevers, which often follow extensive disturbance of the surface by excavation or otherwise, held to be direct punishments for the crime of lacerating her bosom.

Smohalla’s chief supporter and assistant at the ceremonies was Kotai′aqan, or Coteea′kun, as MacMurray spells it, of the Yakima tribe. The name refers to a brood of young ducks scattering in alarm. He was the son of Kamai′äkan, the great war chief of the Yakima. He also gave MacMurray the story of the cosmos, which agrees with that obtained from Smohalla, but is more in detail:

The world was all water, and Saghalee Tyee was above it. He threw up out of the water at shallow places large quantities of mud, and that made the land. Some was piled so high that it froze hard, and the rains that fell were made into snow and ice. Some of the earth was made hard into rocks, and anyone could see that it had not changed—it was only harder. We have no records of the past; but we have it from our fathers from far back that Saghalee Tyee threw down many of the mountains he had made. It is all as our fathers told us, and we can see that it is true when we are hunting for game or berries in the mountains. I did not see it done. He made trees to grow, and he made a man out of a ball of mud and instructed him in what he should do. When the man grew lonesome, he made a woman as his companion, and taught her to dress skins, and to gather berries, and to make baskets of the bark of roots, which he taught her how to find.

She was asleep and dreaming of her ignorance of how to please man, and she prayed to Saghalee Tyee to help her. He breathed on her and gave her something that she could not see, or hear, or smell, or touch, and it was preserved in a little basket, and by it all the arts of design and skilled handiwork were imparted to her descendants.

Notwithstanding all the benefits they enjoyed, there was quarreling among the people, and the earth-mother was angry. The mountains that overhung the river at the Cascades were thrown down, and dammed the stream and destroyed the forests and whole tribes, and buried them under the rocks. (MacMurray MS.)

In connection with the wonderful little basket, MacMurray states that Kotai′aqan presented him with a very ancient drum-shape basket, about 2½ inches in diameter, to give to his wife, in order that she might likewise be inspired. Concerning the catastrophe indicated in the last paragraph, he goes on to say:

The Cascade range, where it crosses the Columbia river, exhibits enormous cross sections of lava, and at its base are petrified trunks of trees, which have been covered and hidden from view except where the wash of the mighty stream has exposed them. Indians have told me, of their knowledge, that, buried deep under these outpours of basalt, or volcanic tufa, are bones of animals of siah, or the long ago. Traditions of the great landslide at the Cascades are many, but vary little in form. According to one account, the mountain tops fell together and formed a kind of arch, under which the water flowed, until the overhanging rocks finally fell into the stream and made a dam or gorge. As the rock is columnar basalt, very friable and easily disintegrated, that was not impossible, and the landscape suggests some such giant avalanche. The submerged trees are plainly visible near this locality. Animal remains I have not seen, but these salmon-eating Indians have lived on the river’s border through countless ages, and know every feature in their surroundings by constant association for generations, and naturally ally these facts with their religious theories. (MacMurray MS.)

In an article on “The submerged trees of the Columbia river,” in Science of February 18, 1887, the geologist, Major Clarence E. Dutton, also notices the peculiar formation at the Cascades and mentions the Indian tradition of a natural bridge over the river at this point.

MacMurray continues:

Coteeakun went on to say that some day Saghalee Tyee would again overturn the mountains and so expose these bones, which, having been preserved through so long a time, would be reoccupied by the spirits which now dwell in the mountain tops, watching their descendants on earth and waiting for the resurrection to come. The voices of these spirits of the dead can be heard at all times in the mountains, and often they answer back when spoken to. Mourners who wail for their dead hear spirit voices replying, and know they will always remain near them. No man knows when it will come, and only those who have observed nature’s laws and adhered to the faith of their ancestors will have their bones so preserved and be certain of an earthly tenement for their spirits. He wanted me to confirm this.

Coteeakun was pacific and gentle. He said all men were as brothers to him and he hoped all would dwell together. He had been told that white and black and all other kinds of men originally dwelt in tents, as the red men always have done, and that God in former times came to commune with white men. He thought there could be only one Saghalee Tyee, in which case white and red men would live on a common plane. We came from one source of life and in time would “grow from one stem again. It would be like a stick that the whites held by one end and the Indians by the other until it was broken, and it would be made again into one stick.”

Some of the wilder Indians to the north have more truculent ideas as to the final cataclysm which is to reoverturn the mountains and bring back the halcyon days of the long past. As the whites and the others came only within the lifetime of the fathers of these Indians, they are not to be included in the benefits of the resurrection, but are to be turned over with all that the white man’s civilization has put upon the present surface of the land.

Coteeakun was for progress—limited progress, it is true—to the extent of fixed homes and agriculture, but he did not want his people to go from their villages or to abandon their religious faith. They were nearly all disposed to work for wages among the farmers, and had orchards and some domestic animals upon whose produce they lived, besides the fish from the rivers. Smohalla opposed anything that pertained to civilization, and had neither cattle, sheep, goats, pigs, nor chickens, and not a tree or vegetable was grown anywhere in his vicinage. Kowse (Peucedanum cous), kamas (Camassia esculenta), berries, fish, and the game of the mountains alone furnished food to his people, whom he advised to resist every advance of civilization as improper for a true Indian and in violation of the faith of their ancestors. I found, however, that he was willing to advise his people to take up lands and adopt the white man’s road, if the government would pension him as it had pensioned Chief Moses, so that while I thought he believed in his religion as much as other sectarians do in theirs, he was tainted by the mercenary desire to live upon his followers unless otherwise provided for by the government.

From Captain E. L. Huggins, Second cavalry, who visited Smohalla about the same time, we obtain further information concerning the prophet’s personality and doctrines. When Smohalla was urged to follow the example of other Indians who had taken up the white man’s road, he replied, “No one has any respect for these book Indians. Even the white men like me better and treat me better than they do the book Indians. My young men shall never work. Men who work can not dream, and wisdom comes to us in dreams.”

When it was argued that the whites worked and yet knew more than the Indians, he replied that the white man’s wisdom was poor and weak and of no value to Indians, who must learn the highest wisdom from dreams and from participating in the Dreamer ceremonies. Being pressed to explain the nature of this higher knowledge, he replied, “Each one must learn for himself the highest wisdom. It can not be taught. You have the wisdom of your race. Be content.”

When the officer contended that even the Indians had to work hard during the fishing season to get food for winter, the prophet answered:

“This work lasts only for a few weeks. Besides it is natural work and does them no harm. But the work of the white man hardens soul and body. Nor is it right to tear up and mutilate the earth as white men do.”

To the officer’s assertion that the Indians also dug roots and were even then digging kamas in the mountains, he replied:

“We simply take the gifts that are freely offered. We no more harm the earth than would an infant’s fingers harm its mother’s breast. But the white man tears up large tracts of land, runs deep ditches, cuts down forests, and changes the whole face of the earth. You know very well this is not right. Every honest man,” said he, looking at me searchingly, “knows in his heart that this is all wrong. But the white men are so greedy they do not consider these things.”

He asserted that the Indians were now so helpless before the white men that they must cease to exist unless they had assistance from a higher power, but that if they heeded the sacred message they would receive strong and sudden help as surely as the spring comes after winter. When some doubt was expressed as to his own faith in these things, he asked pointedly:

“Do the white teachers believe what they teach?”

“It is said, Smohalla, that you hate all white men.”

“It is not true. But the whites have caused us great suffering. Dr Whitman many years ago made a long journey to the east to get a bottle of poison for us. He was gone about a year, and after he came back strong and terrible diseases broke out among us. The Indians killed Dr Whitman, but it was too late. He had uncorked his bottle and all the air was poisoned. Before that there was little sickness among us, but since then many of us have died. I have had children and grandchildren, but they are all dead. My last grandchild, a young woman of 16, died last month. If only her infant could have lived”—his voice faltered slightly, but with scarcely a pause he continued in his former tone, “I labored hard to save them, but my medicine would not work as it used to.”

He repelled the idea that the Indians had profited by the coming of the whites, and especially denied that they had obtained ponies from this source. His statement on this point may be of interest to those who hold that the horse is indigenous to America:

“What! The white man gave us ponies? Oh, no; we had ponies long before we ever saw white people. The Great Spirit gave them to us. Our horses were swifter and more enduring, too, in those days, before they were mixed with the white man’s horses.”

He went on to tell how the Indians had befriended the first explorers who came among them and how ungrateful had been their later recompense, and said: “We are now so few and weak that we can offer no resistance, and their preachers have persuaded them to let a few of us live, so as to claim credit with the Great Spirit for being generous and humane. But they begrudge us what little grass our ponies eat.” At parting he repeated earnestly, “If they tell you Smohalla hates all white people, do not believe it.” (Huggins, 2.)

* * * * *

Our knowledge of the Smohalla ritual is derived from the account given by Major MacMurray and from the statements of Yakima and Pälus informants. The officer’s account is that of an intelligent observer, who noted ceremonies closely, but without fully comprehending their meaning. The Indian account is that of initiates and true believers, one of them being the regular interpreter of the Smohalla services on Yakima reservation.

The officer had already seen the ceremonial performances at the Indian villages at Celilo and Umatilla in Oregon, at Tumwater and Yakima gap in Washington, but found its greatest development at the fountain head, the home of Smohalla at Priest rapids. His account is so full of interest that we give it almost in its entirety.

While still several miles away, his party discovered the village, the houses extending along the bank of the river, with several flags attached to long poles fluttering in the wind. The trail from the mountains was winding and difficult, but at last—

We reached the plain and were met by a procession, headed by Smohalla in person, all attired in gorgeous array and mounted on their best chargers. We wended our way through sagebrush and sand dunes to the village street, not a soul being visible, but from the mat-roofed salmon houses there came forth the most indescribable chorus of bell ringing, drum beating, and screeching. I noticed that the street was neatly swept and well sprinkled—an unusual thing in any Indian village. This, Smohalla said, was in my honor and to show that his people had cleanly tastes. Our procession passed on beyond the village to a new canvas tent, which had a brush shade to keep off the sun and was lined and carpeted with new and very pretty matting. Smohalla said this had been prepared especially for me, and was to be my house as long as I should stay with him. To cap the climax, he had constructed a bench for me, having sent more than 90 miles for the nails. Fresh salmon, caught in a peculiar trap among the rocks and broiled on a plank, were regularly furnished my party, and with hard tack and coffee of our own supplying we got enough to eat and drink. Our own blankets furnished sleeping conveniences. The river was within two yards of our tent door and was an ample lavatory.

When I awoke the next morning, the sound of drums was again heard, and for days it continued. I do not remember that there was any intermission except for a few minutes at a time. Seven bass drums were used for the purpose. I was invited to be present, and took great interest in the ceremonies, which I shall endeavor to describe.

There was a small open space to the north of the larger house, which was Smohalla’s residence and the village assembly room as well. This space was inclosed by a whitewashed fence made of boards which had drifted down the river. In the middle was a flagstaff with a rectangular flag, suggesting a target. In the center of the flag was a round red patch. The field was yellow, representing grass, which is there of a yellow hue in summer. A green border indicated the boundary of the world, the hills being moist and green near their tops. At the top of the flag was a small extension of blue color, with a white star in the center. Smohalla explained: “This is my flag, and it represents the world. God told me to look after my people—all are my people. There are four ways in the world—north and south and east and west. I have been all those ways. This is the center. I live here. The red spot is my heart—everybody can see it. The yellow grass grows everywhere around this place. The green mountains are far away all around the world. There is only water beyond, salt water. The blue [referring to the blue cloth strip] is the sky, and the star is the north star. That star never changes; it is always in the same place. I keep my heart on that star. I never change.”

There are frequent services, a sort of processional around the outside of the fence, the prophet and a small boy with a bell entering the inclosure, where, after hoisting the flag, he delivers a sort of sermon. Captains or class leaders give instructions to the people, who are arranged according to stature, the men and women in different classes marching in single file to the sound of drums. There seems to be a regular system of signals, at command of the prophet, by the boy with the bell, upon which the people chant loud or low, quick or slow, or remain silent. These outdoor services occurred several times each day.

Smohalla invited me to participate in what he considered a grand ceremonial service within the larger house. This house was built with a framework of stout logs placed upright in the ground and roofed over with brush, or with canvas in rainy weather. The sides consisted of bark and rush matting. It was about 75 feet long by 25 feet wide. Singing and drumming had been going on for some time when I arrived. The air resounded with the voices of hundreds of Indians, male and female, and the banging of drums. Within, the room was dimly lighted. Smoke curled from a fire on the floor at the farther end and pervaded the atmosphere. The ceiling was hung with hundreds of salmon, split and drying in the smoke.

The scene was a strange one. On either side of the room was a row of twelve women standing erect with arms crossed and hands extended, with finger tips at the shoulders. They kept time to the drums and their voices by balancing on the balls of their feet and tapping with their heels on the floor, while they chanted with varying pitch and time. The excitement and persistent repetition wore them out, and I heard that others than Smohalla had seen visions in their trances, but I saw none who would admit it or explain anything of it. I fancied they feared their own action, and that real death might come to them in this simulated death.

Those on the right hand were dressed in garments of a red color with an attempt at uniformity. Those on the left wore costumes of white buckskin, said to be very ancient ceremonial costumes, with red and blue trimmings. All wore large round silver plates or such other glittering ornaments as they possessed. A canvas covered the floor and on it knelt the men and boys in lines of seven. Each seven, as a rule, had shirts of the same color. The tallest were in front, the size diminishing regularly to the rear. Children and ancient hags filled in any spare space. In front on a mattress knelt Smohalla, his left hand covering his heart. On his right was the boy bell ringer in similar posture. Smohalla wore a white garment which he was pleased to call a priest’s gown, but it was simply a white cloth shirt with a colored stripe down the back.

I and my two assistants were seated on a mattress about 10 feet in front of the prophet, which fortunately placed us near the door and incidentally near fresh air. There were two other witnesses, Indians from distant villages, who sat at one side with Smohalla’s son looking on.

Smohalla’s son was said to be in training as his successor. He was a young man, apparently about 23 years old, tall, slender, and active in movement, and commonly kept himself apart from the body of the people. He was much darker than his father. His dress was brilliant in style and color. He ordinarily wore a short gown or surplice, sometimes yellow and at other times sky blue, with ornate decorations of stars or moons appliqué, cut from bright-colored cloths. The sleeves were extravagantly trimmed with beads and silver ornaments. He knelt at the right of the group as the place of honor. On his left was Coteeakun, the head man of the Indian village at Union gap, on the Yakima reservation. The third man was Coteeakun’s brother, a most intelligent and progressive Indian. (MacMurray MS.)

From Charles Ike, an intelligent half-blood interpreter on Yakima reservation, who is also the regular interpreter of the Smohalla ritual services at the Yakima village of Paʾkiut, we obtain additional interesting details concerning the ceremony as there performed, with the underlying religious teachings.

As at present taught, the religion finds adherents among probably all the tribes along the Columbia from near the British border down to the Wushqûm tribe at The Dalles, with the exception, perhaps, of the Klikatat, who are nearly all Catholics. The two chief centers are at Pʿnä or Priest rapids, where Smohalla in person regularly preaches to about 120 hearers, and at Paʾkiut, at Union gap on Yakima reservation, where, until his death a short time ago, Tianä′ni has regularly conducted the services for about 300 of his tribe. At each place is a church or meeting-house built as already described.

The former high priest of the doctrine among the Yakima, and the right-hand man of Smohalla himself, was Kotai′aqan, already mentioned, the son of the great war chief Kamai′äkan. It is even asserted that he was the originator of the system. However this may be, it is certain that he had much to do with formulating both the dogmas and the ritual. In temper he was more gentle than Smohalla, and more disposed to meet civilization half-way. On his death, about 1890, he was succeeded by his stepson, Tīanä′ni, or “Many Wounds,” who filled the office until about October, 1892, when he was murdered near his home by two drunken Indians. He was succeeded in the chieftainship by a younger son of Kotai′aqan named Sha′awĕ (or Shaw-wawa Kootiacan), and in his priestly functions by a man known to the whites as Billy John.

The regular services take place on Sunday, in the morning, afternoon, and evening. Sunday has been held sacred among the Nez Percés and neighboring tribes for more than sixty years, as the result of the teachings of the Hudson Bay officers. The prairie tribes also, having learned that Sunday is the great “medicine day” of the whites, now select it by preference for their own religious ceremonies of the Ghost dance and the mescal. There are also services during the week, besides special periodic observances, such as the “lament” for the dead, particularly the dead chiefs, in early spring; the salmon dance, when the salmon begin to run in April, and the berry dance, when the wild berries ripen in autumn. The description of the ceremonial of the salmon dance will answer for the others, as it differs chiefly only by the addition of the feast.

As already stated, the house has the door at the eastern end, as is the common rule in all Indian structures. On the roof, at the eastern end of the building at Paʾkiut, are the flags, the center one blue, representing the sky; another one white, representing the earthly light, and the third yellow, representing the heavenly light of the spirit world. Blue, white, and yellow are the sacred colors of this system, as also of that of the Shakers, to be described later. On entering, the worshipers range themselves in two lines along the sides of the building, the men and boys standing along the northern wall, the women and girls along the southern wall, and all facing toward the center. The first man entering takes his place on the north nearest the door; the next one stands just beyond him, and so on; while the women and girls, when their turn comes, make the whole circuit along the northern side, and then, turning at the farther end, take their places in reverse order along the southern wall. In the open space between the rows is a floor-walker, whose business it is to see that everyone is in the right place. All are dressed as nearly as possible in the finest style of the old Indian costume, buckskin and shell ornaments, their faces painted yellow, white, or red with Indian paints, and carrying eagle feathers in their right hands (plates +XC+, +XCI+; figure 66).

At the farther end, facing the door, sits the high priest, while just behind him stands his “interpreter,” and on his left are seated on the ground the three drummers with their large drums in front of them. The high priest carries a large bell in his left hand and a smaller one in his right.

Dishes of fresh-cooked salmon and jars of water, together with a plentiful supply of other food, are ranged in front of the devotees. After a preliminary ceremony in the nature of a litany, in which the principal articles of their theology are recited in the form of question and answer by the whole body of worshipers, the high priest gives the command, “Take water,” when everyone raises a cup of water to his lips. Next comes the command, “Now drink,” and each one takes a sip. At the words, “Now the salmon,” each takes up a portion of fish, which he puts into his mouth at the next command, “Now eat.” Last comes the command, “Now help yourselves,” which is the signal for a general attack on the provisions.

When everyone has satisfied his hunger, the remains of the feast are cleared away and the “dance” begins. At a signal given by a single stroke of the bell in the left hand of the high priest all stand up in line on either side of the building. At another stroke of the bell all put their right hands on their breasts. Another tap of the bell and the right hand is brought out in front of the body. Another, and they begin to move their right hands backward and forward like fans in front of the breast, and thus continue throughout the dance, keeping time also to the singing by balancing alternately upon their toes and heels, as already described, without moving from their places. Ritual songs are sung throughout the remainder of the service, in time with the movements of the dancers and the sounds of the drums, and regulated by the strokes of the bell.

Between songs anyone who wishes to speak steps out into the open space. With a single tap of the bell the high priest then summons his “interpreter,” standing behind him, who comes forward and stands beside the speaker, a few feet in front and at the right of the high priest. The speaker then in a low tone tells his story—usually a trance vision of the spirit world—to the interpreter, who repeats it in a loud voice to the company. At the end of the recital the high priest gives the signal with the bell, when all raise their right hands with a loud “Ai!” (Yes!). The high priest himself sometimes discourses also to the people through the interpreter; at other times directly.

Each song is repeated until the high priest gives the signal with the bell to stop. Most of the songs consist—in the native language—of seven lines. At the end of the first line the high priest taps once with the bell; at the end of the second line he taps twice, and so on to the end of the song, when he rings the bell hard and continuously, and all raise their hands with a loud “Ai!” Then the song leader, who stands with a feather fan between the high priest and the drummers, starts the next song.

The first song is given by all standing motionless, with the right hand on the breast and with eyes cast downward. It may be rendered:

Verily, verily, Our Brother made the body. He gave it a spirit and the body moved. Then he counted out the words for us to speak.

Another begins:

Verily, Our Brother put salmon in the water to be our food.

Another begins:

O, brothers! O, sisters! When first the light struck this world, it lighted the world forever.

Our Brother (Nämi Piäp) is the term used in referring to the creating spirit, instead of “our father,” as we might expect them to say.

On leaving, at the close of the ceremony, the man nearest the high priest passes around in front of him and down along in front of the line of women, and as he reaches the door he turns around and bows to the high priest. Each man in turn thus files around and passes out, after which the women—first the one nearest the high priest and then the others in regular order—pass out in the same manner. While the worshipers are thus going out, the high priest, standing up, rings continuously the small bell in his right hand, while with the larger bell in his left he gives a single stroke as each one passes through the door.

Tribes of the Columbia region

The following synopsis will give a good general idea of the location and numbers of the tribes of the Columbia region from the British line down to the Cascades, including all those under the influence of the Smohalla religion. Except when derived from such well-known authorities as Lewis and Clark, Stevens, Gibbs, etc., the information given is the result of personal investigation and work with Yakima and Pälus Indians. The general boundaries of the tribes west of the Cascade range, including the adherents of the Shaker religion, are also indicated on the accompanying map (plate +LXXXVIII+), but our information in regard to this region is too meager to be definite.

+Kutenai+ (Kitunahan stock).—Synonyms: Arcs Plats, Cotonné, Cottonoi, Coutanie, Flatbow, Kitunaha, Kootenai, Koutaine, Kutneha, Skalzi, Tushepaw (Lewis and Clark, 1805), White-tailed Deer People (Clark, Indian Sign Language). The Kutenai, properly Kituna′qa, form a distinct linguistic stock, and live chiefly on the Canadian side, around Kutenai river and lake, but extend across the line into northern Idaho and northwestern Montana. Their extension southward dates from their treaty of peace with the Flatheads about ninety years ago. In company with the Flatheads they were accustomed formerly to come down from the mountains in the fall to hunt the buffalo on the headwaters of the Missouri. They are mentioned by Lewis and Clark in 1805 under the name of Tushepaw, with bands distinguished as Ootlashoot, Micksucksealton (?), and Hohilpo living in the mountains and on Clark’s fork within United States territory. According to Gatschet, Tu′shipa is a collective term applied by the Shoshoni to the tribes living north of them, including the Nez Percés and others, as well as the Kutenai. A part of the Kutenai joined with the Flatheads and Upper Pend d’Oreilles in a treaty with the government in 1855 and are now on Flathead (Jocko) reservation in Montana. They are probably all Catholics. Others, living in northern Idaho, have never entered into treaty relations, and may be followers of Smohalla. The best estimates for the last fifty years give those within the United States a population of from 400 to 450.

+Pend d’Oreille+ (Salishan stock).—Synonyms: Calispel, Coospellar (Lewis and Clark), Kahlispelm, Kalispelines, Kalispelusses, Kellespem, Kullas-Palus, Ku′shpĕlu (a Yakima or Pälus form), Papshpûn-ʿlĕma or “people of the great fir trees” (Yakima name), Pend d’Oreilles or “ear-rings” (French name), Ponderas. The Pend d’Oreilles held the country along the river and lake of the same name, in Idaho and Washington, immediately southwest of the Kutenai. They are commonly distinguished as Upper, on the lake, and Lower, on both banks of the river. They are the Coospellar mentioned by Lewis and Clark in 1805. They formerly crossed the mountains annually to hunt buffalo on the Missouri. Since 1844 they and most of the other Salishan tribes of this region have been under the influence of Catholic missionaries. The Upper Pend d’Oreilles joined with the Flatheads and Kutenai in a treaty with the government in 1855, and are now on Flathead reservation in Montana. Some of the Lower band joined them there in 1887. Others are on the Cœur d’Alêne reservation in Idaho, a few are with Moses on the Columbia in Washington, and the rest are still in their original country, never having entered into treaty stipulations. The whole tribe numbers about 1,000 souls.

+Colville+ (Salishan stock).—Synonyms: Chaudière (French name), Chualpay, Kettle Falls, Quiarlpi or “basket people” (Hale), Schrooyelpi, Schwogelpi, Schwoyelpi, Swielpee, Wheelpoo (Lewis and Clark). They originally occupied the country on Colville and Kettle rivers and on both sides of the Columbia from Kettle falls down to Spokane river, in Washington, and extending north into British territory to about the lower Arrow lake. They are mentioned by Lewis and Clark under the name of Wheelpoo. Kettle falls on the Columbia, within their territory, was the great salmon fishing resort for all the tribes of this region, and here, in 1846, was established the Catholic mission of Saint Paul. As a result of this missionary work, all of these Salishan tribes, excepting the Sanpoil, Nespelim, Mitaui, and a part of the Spokan are now Catholics. In 1854, according to Stevens, the original Shwoyelpi were nearly extinct and their places had been filled by Indians from neighboring tribes. Without ever having entered into any treaty with the government, they were assigned in 1872 to Colville reservation, Washington, which had been set apart for the tribes of that section. They were reported to number 616 in 1870, and only 301 in 1892.

+Lake+ or +Senijextee+ (Salishan stock).—These owned the country on both sides of the Columbia, in Washington, from about Kettle falls northward into British Columbia to the vicinity of Arrow lake. They are now on Colville reservation in Washington and number about 350, with perhaps a few others across the boundary. They may be identical with the Lahannas of Lewis and Clark.

+Spokan+ (Salishan stock).—Synonyms: Lartielo (Lewis and Clark), Sarlilso (Gibbs), Sinhumanish, Sinkoman (Kutenai name), Spokihnish, Spokomish, Zingomenes. They are commonly distinguished as Upper Spokan or Sineeguomenah, Middle or Sintootoo, and Lower or Chekisschee (Winans, Comr., 1870). Spokan is the name given them by the Cœur d’Alênes; Sinkoman is their Kutenai name, while the Lartielo or Sarlilso of Lewis and Clark is simply a bad misprint for Sintootoo, the name of the middle band. They are closely connected, linguistically and politically, with the Sanpoil and Nespelim. The lower Spokan are now Protestants, the rest are Catholics. They formerly owned the whole basin of Spokane river in Washington and extending into Idaho. They are now on Spokane reservation in Washington and the Cœur d’Alêne reservation in Idaho, and number in all about 900 or 1,000.

+Cœur d’Alêne+ (Salishan stock).—Synonyms: Pointed Hearts, Qʾma′shpăl or “kamas people” (so called by the Yakima), Skeechaway, Skeetsomish (Lewis and Clark), Skitsămŭq (Pälus name), Skitswish, Stietshoi. They occupied the lake and river bearing their name in Idaho and the adjacent headwaters of the Spokane. A part of this territory they held jointly with the Spokan, whose language they speak. In 1892 they numbered 427, on Cœur d’Alêne reservation in Idaho.

+Sanpoil+ (Salishan stock).—Synonyms: Hai-ai′nĭma (Yakima name), Hihighenimmo (Lewis and Clark), Ipoilq (another Yakima name), Nʾpochle (Stevens), Sans Puelles, Sinapoils, Sinipouals, Sinpaivelish, Sinpohellechach, Sinpoilschne, Siur Poils. The name by which this tribe is commonly known is sometimes written as a French form Sans Poils, meaning “without bristles,” or “hairless,” but it is more probably an Indian word. They occupy the country on Sanpoil river in Washington, now included within Colville reservation, and are closely allied with the Nespelim. These two tribes are the most aboriginal in eastern Washington, and adhere strictly to their primitive customs and religion. The two tribes are thus described by Winans, the government farmer, in 1870:

They have never received any presents from the government, although they have been frequently asked to do so. They seem suspicious of the whites, are the least civilized and most independent of any of the tribes of the territory. They are rich in horses and cattle, possessing all the comforts they know how to enjoy, and it appears their only fear is that they will be interfered with by the government. They are perfectly contented with their condition, and would not accept anything from the government if offered, except a religious instructor and doctor.

Some years later they were brought under the reservation system and a change came o’er the spirit of their dream. In 1892 we are told officially that “the Sanpuell Indians are the worst people that I have anything to do with.... They are surly, ignorant, and filthy,” notwithstanding which they still “have the same religious prejudice as the Nespelims about receiving aid from the government.” Of the Nespelim the same intelligent witness tells us that “they are a peculiar class of Indians, having a religion of their own.” The religion of the two tribes is aboriginal, and is similar to the Smohalla doctrine in principle, although not in ceremonial. In 1892 the Sanpoil were estimated at 300.

+Nespelim+ (Salishan stock).—Synonyms: Inspellum, Sinspeelish. On the north bank of the Columbia, in Washington, along Nespelim river and down to the junction of the Okinagan, and on the opposite side of the Columbia down to about Grande Coulée. They speak the same language as the Sanpoils, and in aboriginal habit, religion, and organization are closely identified with them. They are within the limits of Colville reservation and were reported to number only 62 in 1892.

+Okanagan+ (Salishan stock).—Synonyms: Oakinacken, Okinakane, Okiwahkine. They occupy the whole basin of Okanagan river in Washington, extending north into British Columbia, and including Similkameen river. The Okanagan were an important tribe or confederacy divided into a number of bands, some of which have also at times been considered as belonging to the Spokan, while others are commonly recognized as distinct tribes. Ross gives them “twelve tribes,” as follows: Skamoynumach, Kewaughtchenunaugh, Pisscow (Piskwaus), Incomecane′took, Tsillane (Chelan), Intie′took (Entiatook), Battlelemuleemauch or Meatwho (Mitaui), Inspellum (Nespelim), Sinpohellechach (Sanpoil), Sinwhoyelppetook (Colville), Samilkanuigh (Similkameen), and Oakinacken (Okanagan). They are now included within the Colville agency, and are Catholics. They were estimated at 340 in 1870 and reported as numbering 405 in 1892.

+Mitaui+ (Salishan stock).—Synonyms: Battlelemuleemauch, Meatwho, Meshons, Meteowwee (Lewis and Clark), Methows, Mithouies. They formerly lived on the west side of the Columbia, including the basins of the Methow, Lake Chelan, and Entiatook river. Lewis and Clark met some of them in 1805 below the mouth of the Wallawalla. They are closely connected with the Piskwaus and Isle de Pierres. They now reside in Nespelim valley on Colville reservation, confederated with the Isle de Pierres under Chief Moses. The two tribes were reported at 390 in 1892. A few others live in the neighborhood of Kittitas near the Yakima tribe. See Piskwaus.

+Isle de Pierre+ (Salishan stock).—Synonyms: Columbias, Linkinse, Sinkiuse. They originally occupied the country in Washington from the Columbia eastward to the Grande Coulée, extending from about the mouth of the Grande Coulée down nearly to Crab creek. Isle de Pierre is the French name of Rock island in the Columbia at the mouth of the Wenatchee. For a long time, under their noted chief Moses, they refused to recognize the authority of the government or to go on a reservation. Now, however, they are settled in Nespelim valley, on Colville reservation. They were reported to number 390 in 1892 and are described as “true, genuine Indians in every sense of the word.” Their chief, Moses, the enemy and rival of Smohalla, was thus described in 1870: “Moses, the head chief, has been a great warrior. He was foremost in the fights of 1858 with Colonels Steptoe and Wright, and was severely wounded a number of times, but not dying, the Indians believe he has a charmed life. He is medium sized, about 45 years old, noble looking, straight as an arrow, and never breaks his word. He has more influence than any other chief east of the Cascade mountains in the territory. He comes nearer being such a chief as we read of than any I have ever met. He is kindly disposed toward the whites and invites them to come and settle in his country.” (Winans.) Linguistically they are probably nearest related to the Piskwaus.

+Wa′napûm+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonyms: Columbia River Indians, Sokulks. This is the tribe of which Smohalla is the chief and high priest. They are a small band, numbering probably less than 200 souls, and closely connected linguistically and politically with the Yakima, Pälus, and Nez Percés. Wanapûm is the name by which they are known to these cognate tribes, and signifies “river people;” from wana or wala, “river” (particularly Columbia river), and pûm or pam, “people or tribal country.” Together with the other non-treaty tribes of this region they are known to the whites under the indefinite name of “Columbia River Indians.” They are identical with the Sokulk met by Lewis and Clark at the mouth of Snake river and described as living farther up on the Columbia. The name Sokulk seems to be entirely unknown among the Yakima and Pälus of today. The Wa′napûm range along both banks of the Columbia, in Washington, from above Crab creek down to the mouth of Snake river. Their village, where Smohalla resides, is on the west bank of the Columbia, at the foot of Priest rapids, in the Yakima country. It is called Pʿnä, signifying “a fish weir,” and is a great rendezvous for the neighboring tribes during the salmon fishing season. Haying never made a treaty or gone on a reservation, they are not officially recognized by the government.

+Pä′lus+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonyms: Palouse, Pelloatpallah Chopunnish (Lewis and Clark), Peloose, Polonches, Sewatpalla. The Pälus owned the whole basin of Palouse river in Washington and Idaho, and extended also along the north bank of Snake river to its junction with the Columbia. They were, and are, closely connected with the Wanapûm and the Nez Percés. Pälus, the name by which the tribe is commonly known, is properly the name of Standing Rock, at the junction of Palouse and Snake rivers. They can not explain the meaning. They have four villages: Almotu, on the north bank of Snake river in Washington, about 30 miles above the mouth of Palouse river; Pälus, on the north bank of Snake river just below the junction of the Palouse; Ta′sawĭks, on the north bank of Snake river about 15 miles above its mouth; and Kasĭ′spä or Cosispa (meaning “at the point,” from kăsĭ′s, a point, and pä, the locative), at Ainsworth in the junction of the Snake and Columbia. This last village has a slight difference in dialect and is sometimes regarded as belonging to the Wanapûm. Although the Pä′lus are mentioned as parties to the Yakima treaty of 1855, they have never as a tribe recognized any treaty limitations or come upon a reservation. They are aboriginal in their ideas and among the most devoted adherents of the Smohalla doctrine. They were estimated at 500 in 1854, but, not being officially recognized, it is impossible to give their present number.

+Pĭskwaus+ or +Winä′tshipûm+ (Salishan stock).—Synonyms: Piscaous, Piscous, Pisquose. The name by which this tribe is commonly known is properly the name of a fishing place on Wenatchee river, and is probably Salishan, but may be from the Yakima pĭsko, signifying “a bend in the river.” The Yakima call the river Winätshi, signifying a “river issuing from a cañon,” and the tribe Winätshipûm. The Piskwaus proper, on Wenatchee river, with their connected bands or tribes living in the same neighborhood, west of the Columbia in Kittitas and Okanogan counties, Washington, are a southern extension of the Mitaui and speak the same language. Under the name of Piskwaus, Stevens includes “the Indians on the Columbia between the Priests’ and Ross rapids, on the Pisquose or Winatshapam river; the Enteatkeon, Chelaun lake, and the Mithaw on Barrier river. The name of Pisquouse, however, properly refers to a single locality on the river known to the Yakamas as Winatshapam. The Pisquouse themselves, as has before been remarked, are so much intermarried with the Yakamas that they have almost lost their nationality. These bands were formerly all united under one principal chief, Stalkoosum, who is said to have been a man of great note among them. He was killed a few years since in a fight with the Blackfeet, since which there has been no head of the tribe.” (Stevens, Comr. Rept., 1854.) The Piskwaus and smaller connected tribes took part in the Yakima treaty of 1855, but do not live on the reservation. Most of them live on the Wenatchee and the north branch of Yakima river in Kittitas county. They are all Catholics. There is no official statement of their number. Smaller tribes or bands connected with the Piskwaus proper and speaking the same language are:

1. +K̔′tătäs+, K̔tătäs-‛lĕ′ma, Ketetas (Stevens), Pshwa′năpûm (Yakima name), Shanwappoms (Lewis and Clark). K̔′tătäs signifies “a shoal,” ‘lĕ′ma being a tribal suffix, and Pshwană-pûm in the Yakima language signifies “shoal people,” the name referring to a shoal in Yakima river at Ellensburg.

2. +Ska′utăl+, or Skaddal (of Lewis and Clark). About Boston creek and Kahchass lake, at the head of Yakima river.

3. +W‛shä′nătu+, or Shallattoos (of Lewis and Clark). The word means “huckleberry” in Yakima, and is applied to a site on Yakima river just above Ellensburg.

4. +Skwa′nănă+, or Squannaroos (of Lewis and Clark). A Yakima word meaning “whirlpool,” and applied to a point on Yakima river about opposite the entrance of Selah creek, the village being on the west bank of the river. This band may possibly speak the language of the Ätanûm, a Shahaptian tribe, whose territory adjoins them.

5. +Qamĭl-‘lĕma+ or Kahmiltpah. The name is Yakima, and signifies “people of Qamĭ′lh.” Qamĭ′lh, or “Watching for Fish,” was a chief who formerly lived with his band about Saddle mountain, on the east side of the Columbia, above Priest rapids. They are called Kahmiltpah in the Yakima treaty of 1855. They now live with the other tribes last named in Kittitas county.

6. +Si′ăpkat+ or Seapcat. They reside now in Kittitas county, but probably lived originally at a place of the same name on the east bank of the Columbia, about Bishop rock and Milk creek, below Wenatchee river. They are called Seapcat in the Yakima treaty of 1855. The word is of the Piskwaus language.

+Yä′kĭmâ+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonyms: Cutsahnim (Lewis and Clark), Eyackimah, Pa′‛kiut-‛lĕ′ma, Stobshaddat (by Puget sound tribes, Tolmie), Waptai′lmĭm, Yackamans, Yookoomans. The Yakima are the most important tribe of the Shahaptian stock, excluding the Nez Percés. They occupied the country of Natchess and middle Yakima rivers, in the present Yakima county, Washington, and are now on a reservation within the same county. Stevens says the name signifies “black bear” in the Wallawalla language, but Yakima informants state that it is a nickname signifying “coward” or “runaway,” and say that the proper name of the tribe is Waptai′lmĭm, people of the “narrow river,” or Pa′‛kiut-‛lĕ′ma, “people of the gap,” both names referring to the narrows in Yakima river at Union gap, near Yakima bridge. Their old village was on the west side of the river, just below the gap. They are the Cutsahnim of Lewis and Clark. This name may possibly come from the same root as Kû′tsano′t, “Lying Alongside,” the name of an old Yakima chief who died about 1880. In 1854, according to Stevens, they were “divided into two principal bands, each made up of a number of villages and very closely connected, the one owning the country on the Natchess and lower Yakima, the other on the Wenass and its main branch above the forks.” These latter, however, were chiefly of the Piskwaus connection. They had then several chiefs, of whom Kamaiakan was the most important. Like all the other Columbia tribes east of the Cascade range, they formerly crossed the Rocky mountains annually to hunt the buffalo on the waters of the Missouri. In 1855 the government made a treaty with the Yakima, Piskwaus, Pälus, and other tribes by which they were to cede a territory on both sides of the Columbia, extending generally from the Cascade range eastward to Palouse and Snake rivers, and southward from above Chelan lake to the Columbia, excepting a small portion between the Columbia and the lower Yakima. At the same time the Yakima reservation was established and an arrangement was made by which all the tribes and bands concerned were to be confederated under the title of the “Yakama Nation,” with Kamaiakan as head chief. Shortly afterward the Yakima war broke out, and the treaty remained unratified until 1859. As already stated, the Pälus and several other tribes have never recognized it or come on the reservation, and their objection to such removal has become a religious principle of the Smohalla doctrine. In the original treaty of 1855 fourteen tribes are named as participating, as follows: Yakama (Yäkima), Palouse (Pä′lus), Pisquouse (Pi′skwaus), Wenatshapam (another name for Piskwaus), Klikatat (Klûkatät), Klinquit (not identified), Kowwassayee (K′kasawi), Liaywas (not identified), Skinpah (Skinpä), Wish-ham (Wushqûm), Shyiks (not identified), Ochechotes (Uchi′chol), Kahmiltpah (Qamil′lĕma), and Seapcat (Si′apkat). Among these were represented at least six languages and three linguistic stocks. The majority of these Indians west of the Columbia, including the Yakima proper and others on the reservation, are Catholics, with also a number of adherents of the Shaker and Smohalla doctrines. Those on the reservation numbered 1,200 in 1892, with an estimated 1,500 outside the boundaries. Beside the principal band of Yakima, the Waptailmĭm already mentioned, there are also the Sĕ′tăs-‛lĕma, or “people of the rye prairie,” on Setass creek, a western tributary of the Yakima in the eastern part of the reservation, and the Pĭsko, or people of the “river bend,” in a village also on the south side of the Yakima, between Topinish and Setass creeks. (See Pishquitpah.) Their dialects are said to differ slightly from that of the Waptailmĭm.

+Ä′tănûm-‛lĕma+ (Shahaptian stock) or “people (‛lĕma) of Ätanûm creek.”—A small tribe on Atahnam creek, in Yakima county, Washington, on the northern boundary of the reservation. They are said to speak a language distinct from Yakima or Klûkatät, but cognate. They have no official recognition now or in the treaty of 1855. The name Ä′tănûm is Yakima, and refers to a stream “ascended” (by salmon).

+Klû’kătät+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonyms: Clickahut, Clickitat, Klikatat, Qwû′lh-hwai-pûm, Weyehhoo, Whulwhypum. The name by which this tribe is commonly known is from the Wasko language and signifies “beyond (the mountain)”—that is, east of the Cascade range—with reference to the Chinookan tribes on the lower Columbia. The same name was also at times extended to the Yakima. They call themselves Qwûlh-hwai-pûm, “prairie people;” from qwûlh-hwai, “prairie,” and pûm, “people,” referring particularly to their occupancy of Camass prairie. They formerly occupied the southern slopes of Mount Adams and Mount Helens, with the country of Klikatat and Lewis rivers, in the present Klickitat and Skamania counties, Washington. East of them were the Yakima and west were the Salishan and Chinookan tribes. At one time they lived farther east, but were driven west by the Cayuse. (Stevens.) About sixty years ago they crossed the Columbia and overran the Willamet country, and even penetrated as far south as the Umpqua, but afterward withdrew again to their proper country. Although but a small tribe, they were aggressive and enterprising and were the trade medium between the tribes west of the mountains and those east. They joined in the Yakima treaty of 1855 and are now chiefly on Yakima reservation, but a few are still on White Salmon river, in Klickitat county. Their number is unknown. The Taitinapam and Topinish speak the same language and may be considered as branches of this tribe.

+Qa′pnĭsh-‛lĕma+ or +Topinish+ (Shahaptian stock).—A small tribe on Topinish river in Yakima county, Washington, within the present limits of the reservation. They speak the Klûkatät language. The name signifies “people (‛lĕma) of the trail coming from the foot of the hill.”

+Taitinapam+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonym: Tai-kie-a-pain (misprint). A small tribe speaking the Klûkatät language, formerly living on the western slopes of the Cascade mountains, between the heads of Lewis and Cowlitz rivers, in Skamania county, Washington, being the westernmost tribe of Shahaptian stock. If any are left, they are probably incorporated with the Klûkatät on Yakima reservation. They never had official recognition.

+Chämnä′pûm+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonyms: Chimnahpum, Chimnapoos, Cuimnapum. A tribe which occupied the bend of the Columbia below Yakima river, together with the country on the lower Yakima, chiefly in the present Yakima county, Washington. They are the Chimnahpum of Lewis and Clark, and speak a dialect of the language of the Pä′lus and Wanapûm, with which tribes the few survivors are incorporated. A few are also still living on the west side of the Columbia, opposite Pasco. The name is of their own language and means “people (pûm) of Chämnä′,” their old village about opposite Wallula.

+Pishquitpah+ (Shahaptian stock).—This name occurs only in the narrative of Lewis and Clark as that of a tribe in 1805, “residing at the Muscleshell rapid and on the north side of the Columbia to the commencement of the high country, wintering on the borders of the Tapteal.” The Tapteal (properly Waptail or Waptailmĭm) is Yakima river. This would locate them in eastern Klickitat and Yakima counties, Washington. They are probably identical with the Pĭsko band of the Yakima. In the name Pishquitpah the final pah is the Yakima or Pä′lus locative pä, “at.”

+K̔ka′săwi+ or +Kowwassayee+ (Shahaptian stock).—A small tribe speaking the Tenino language and formerly occupying a village of the same name, K̔ka′săwi, on the north bank of the Columbia, in Klickitat county, Washington, about opposite the mouth of the Umatilla. The full name is K̔ka′săwi-‛lĕ′ma, “people (‛lĕma) of the arrow-making place,” the local form being from k̔ka′so, “arrow.” They took part in the Yakima treaty of 1855 under the name of Kowwassayee, and are now on Yakima reservation.

+Hăhau′pûm+ or +Wahowpum+ (Shahaptian stock).—A small tribe speaking the Tenino language and occupying a village, Hăha′u, on the north bank of the Columbia, about the mouth of Olive creek, in Klickitat county, Washington. The word means “willow people,” from hăha′u, a species of willow, and pûm, “people.” They are the Wahowpum of Lewis and Clark. They have never had official recognition.

+Uchi′chol+ or +Ochechotes+ (Shahaptian stock).—A small tribe speaking the Tenino language, living now, or formerly, on the north bank of the Columbia in Klickitat county, Washington. They are mentioned as Ochechotes in the Yakima treaty of 1855, and may now be incorporated with other tribes on Yakima reservation. The name, from the Tenino language, signifies the “hind dorsal-fin” (of a salmon), and is the name of a rock on the north side of the Columbia, opposite the upper end of the island, at the mouth of the Des Chutes. See Tapänäsh.

+Skĭ′npä+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonyms: Sawpaw (?), Skien, Skin, Skinpah. A small tribe speaking the Tenino language and formerly having a village on the north bank of the Columbia in Klickitat county, Washington, at the falls opposite Celilo. They took part in the Yakima treaty of 1855 under the name of Skinpah, and are now incorporated with the other tribes on Yakima reservation. The name is Tenino, and means “cradle place,” or “at the cradle,” from skĭn, “cradle,” and pä, the locative, and refers to a prominent rock at the site of their former village having some resemblance to an Indian cradle. See Tapänäsh.

+Täpanä′sh+ or +Eneeshur+ (Shahaptian stock).—A small tribe speaking the Tenino language, having a village on the north bank of the Columbia in Klickitat county, Washington, about opposite the mouth of Des Chutes river and a little above Celilo. The name is identical with the Eneeshur of Lewis and Clark, these explorers in 1805 having also included under this name the various bands speaking the Tenino language on both sides of the Columbia about the mouth of the Des Chutes. The Tapänäsh have no official recognition. See Tenino.

+Tlaqluit+ or +Wŭshqûm+ (Chinookan stock).—Synonyms: Echebool, Echeloot, Eloot, Helwit, Niculuita, Ouichram, Tchilouit, Tilhulhwit, Wisham, Wishham, Wishram, Wisswham. The Tlaqluit, with the Wasko, are the easternmost tribes of Chinookan stock on the Columbia, having immediately above them the Shahaptian tribes, speaking the Tenino language. The Tlaqluit territory lies along the north bank of the Columbia in Klickitat county, Washington, from Tenino, about 6 miles above The Dalles, down to the neighborhood of White Salmon river. They call themselves Tlaqluit (Echeloot of Lewis and Clark), and are called Wŭshqûmă-pûm, or “Wŭshqûm people,” by the tribes speaking the Tenino language, Wŭshqûm being the name of their chief village near South Side at The Dalles, the great fishing and trading resort for the tribes of this section. The name appears also as Wishram. Both Tlaqluit and Wŭshqûm refer to a species of louse or flea abounding in that neighborhood. They took part in the Yakima treaty of 1855 under the name of Wishham, but most of them have probably never gone on the reservation. See Wasko.

There is a tradition in the tribe that long before the coming of the whites to the Columbia a band of Tlaqluit left their people on account of a petty quarrel as to whether a goose made a certain noise with its bill or with its wings, and went up the Columbia and the Spokane, and are supposed to be now about the headwaters of the latter stream and still retaining their language, although under a different tribal name.

+Chilû′ktkwa+ or +Chilluckittequaws+ (Chinookan stock).—A tribe formerly extending along the north bank of the Columbia in Klickitat and Skamania counties, Washington, from about White Salmon river down to some distance below the Cascades. They are called Chilluckittequaws in 1805 by Lewis and Clark, who speak also of a separate band of the same tribe under the name of Smackshop, a name which can not now be identified. The tribe now numbers less than 100. Until recently the remnant lived about the mouth of White Salmon river, but removed about thirteen years ago to the Cascades. Their language is nearly the same as that of the Wasko. They have never had official recognition.

+Kwikwû′lĭt+ or +Dog River+ (Chinookan stock).—Synonyms: Cascade Indians, Kigaltwalla, Upper Chinook, Wahclellah, Watlala. A small tribe formerly living at the Cascades and about Dog river, a small stream coming into the Columbia about half-way between the Cascades and The Dalles, in Wasco county, Oregon. They are identical, in part at least, with the Wahclellahs of Lewis and Clark (mentioned as a part of the “Shahala nation”), and are the “Ki-gal-twal-la band of the Wascoes” and the “Dog River band of the Wascoes” of the Wasco treaty of 1855. The “Dog River or Cascade Indians” were reported to number 80 souls in 1854. In the next year they, with other tribes, entered into the Wasco treaty, by which they agreed to remove to Warmspring reservation, where some of them now are, while the others are still about the Cascades. Their language is nearly the same as that of the Wasko.

+Wasko+ (Chinookan stock).—Synonyms: Dalles Indians, Wascopum. A tribe formerly claiming the country about The Dalles, on the south bank of the Columbia, in Wasco county, Oregon. They, with the Tlaqluit on the opposite bank, are the easternmost extension of the Chinookan stock, and speak the same language. The name is said to be a Tenino word, meaning “grass,” or “grass people.” It has sometimes been made to include several cognate bands about The Dalles and Cascades, on both sides of the Columbia. Under the name of “The Dalles band of the Wascoes,” they entered into the Wasco treaty of 1855, and are now on Warmspring reservation in Oregon. They numbered 260 in 1892.

+Waiäm+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonyms: (Lower) Des Chutes, Waiäm-‛lĕma, Wayyampa, Wyam. A tribe speaking the Tenino language and formerly living about the mouth of Des Chutes river, in the present Wasco and Sherman counties, Oregon. Their chief village was on the Columbia where Celilo now is, and was called Waiäm, whence their name of Waiäm-‛lĕma or “people of Waiäm.” They joined in the Wasco treaty of 1855 under the name of “Wyam or Lower Des Chutes band of Walla-Wallas,” and are now on Warmspring reservation in Oregon. Their number is not separately reported.

+Tai′-ăq+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonyms: Taigh, Ta-ih, Tairtla, Tyich. A tribe speaking the Tenino language and formerly occupying the country about Tygh and White rivers, in Wasco county, Oregon. The name Tai′-ăq refers to the stream and denotes “muddy, white water.” They took part in the Wasco treaty of 1855 under the name of “Ta-ih or Upper Des Chutes band of Walla-Wallas,” and are now on Warmspring reservation, Oregon. Their number is not reported.

+Tĭ‛lqûni+ (Shahaptian stock).—A tribe formerly claiming the country between Tygh valley and Warmspring river, west of Des Chutes river, in the present Wasco county, Oregon. They are now on Warmspring reservation, in the same neighborhood. They have never been officially mentioned under their Indian name, and may be considered the Warmspring proper, although this name is local rather than tribal. They speak the Tenino language. See Tenino.

+Tenino+ or +Mĕli′-‛lĕma+ (Shahaptian stock).—The most important Shahaptian tribe of western Oregon. They formerly occupied middle Des Chutes river, and conquered the present Warmspring reservation from the Paiute or Snake tribes, but never occupied it until put there by the Wasco treaty of 1855. Since then they have been known indiscriminately as Tenino or Warmspring Indians, although this latter designation is commonly used to include other cognate tribes on the same reservation. For this reason it is impossible to give their number definitely. The Tenino language, in various dialects, is spoken, excepting by the Lohim, by all the tribes formerly living on both banks of the Columbia and on its tributaries from the country of the Wasko about The Dalles up to about the mouth of the Umatilla.

Most of this region, on the south or Oregon side of the Columbia, was formerly held by Shoshonean tribes of Paiute connection, which have been dispossessed by the Shahaptian tribes and driven farther back to the south. The only Shoshonean tribe which maintained its place on the Columbia was the Lohim, on Willow creek. The Tenino themselves conquered the present Warmspring reservation from the Snakes. The expulsion was in full progress when Lewis and Clark went down the Columbia in 1805, but had been practically completed when the first treaties were made with these tribes fifty years later. Lewis and Clark state that “on that (the south) side of the river none of the tribes have any permanent habitations, and on inquiry we were confirmed in our belief that it was from the fear of being attacked by the Snake Indians, with whom they are constantly at war. This nation they represent as being very numerous and residing in a great number of villages on the Towahnahiook (Wanwaui or Des Chutes), where they live principally on salmon, ... the first villages of the Snake Indians being twelve days’ journey on a course about southeast of this place.” In the appendix, after mentioning various bands of Snakes on Snake and Willamette rivers, they speak of the main body as “residing in the fall and winter on the Multnomah (Willamet) river, southward of the Southwest mountains, and in spring and summer near the heads of the Towahnahiook (Des Chutes), Lepage (John Day), Yaumalolam (Umatilla), and Wollawollah rivers, and especially at the falls of the Towahnahiook, for the purpose of fishing.” In the Wasco treaty of 1855 the Shahaptian tribes were recognized as owners of the whole country southward to the forty-fourth parallel, from the Cascade range east to the Blue mountains. See Tapänäsh.

+Tûkspû′sh+ or +John Day Indians+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonyms: Dock-spus, John Day Rivers, Tûkspûsh-‛lĕma. A tribe speaking the Tenino language and formerly living along the lower part of John Day river, Oregon, having their principal village at the falls about 4 miles above the mouth. They are now on Warmspring reservation, and numbered 59 in 1892, with perhaps others off the reservation. Tûkspûsh is the name of John Day river in the Tenino language.

+Lohĭm+ or +Willow Creek Indians+ (Shoshonean stock).—A tribe living on Willow creek, in Gilliam and Morrow counties, Oregon. They are of Shoshonean connection, being the only Indians of this stock who have been able to maintain their position on the Columbia against the inroads of the Shahaptian tribes. They have never made a treaty with the government, and are generally spoken of as renegades belonging to the Umatilla reservation. In 1870 they were reported to number 114, but are not mentioned in the recent official reports.

+Cayuse+ or +Wailĕ′tpu+ (Waiilatpuan stock).—Synonyms: Cailloux, Kayuse, Shiwanish, Skyuse, Wailetma, Yeletpo Chopunnish (of Lewis and Clark). The Cayuse are a warlike tribe of distinct stock formerly occupying the mountain country on the heads of Wallawalla, Umatilla, and Grande Ronde rivers in Oregon and Washington, including the present Umatilla reservation. Further investigation may yet establish a linguistic connection with the Shahaptian tribes. The Molala, formerly on Molalla creek, west of the Cascades, are a separated band, of whose western migration the Cayuse and their neighbors still have a tradition. The Cayuse formerly bore a high reputation for intelligence and bravery, but on account of their fighting propensities, which led them to make constant war on the Snakes and other tribes to the west, they were never very numerous. In 1838 a Presbyterian mission, called Waiilatpu, had been established among the Cayuse, by Dr Whitman, where now is the town of Whitman, in Wallawalla county, Washington. In 1847 the smallpox, before unknown among them, carried off a large part of the tribe. The Cayuse, believing that the missionaries were the cause of it, attacked the mission on November 29, 1847, killed Dr Whitman and thirteen others, and destroyed the mission. As a matter of fact, there seems little question that the infection was brought into the country in supplies intended for the use of the mission or of emigrants temporarily stopping there. In 1854, according to Stevens, “the tribe, though still dreaded by their neighbors on account of their courage and warlike spirit, is but a small one, numbering, according to the census of 1851, only 126. Of these, individuals of the pure blood are few, the majority being intermixed with the Nez Percés and the Wallah-Wallahs, particularly with the former, to such a degree that their own language has fallen into disuse.” A few years ago only a few individuals, then living on Umatilla reservation, retained their old language. In 1855 they joined in the treaty by which Umatilla reservation in Oregon was set apart, and most of those remaining are now there, while a few others are with the Nez Percés at Lapwai. Joseph, the noted Nez Percé chief, is himself the son of a Cayuse father. In 1892 the Cayuse on Umatilla reservation were reported to number 391, but it is evident that most of these are mixed-bloods of other tribes, particularly the Umatilla. The name Cayuse is from the Nez Percé language. They call themselves Wailĕtpu. They are known to the Yakima as Wi′alĕt-pûm or Wai′lĕtma, and to the Tenino as Shiwanish, or “strangers from up the river,” a name extended also to the Nez Percés.

+Umatilla+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonym: Utilla. A tribe formerly occupying the lower portion of the river of the same name, with the adjacent bank of the Columbia, in Oregon. They speak a distinct language of the Shahaptian stock. By the treaty of 1855 they agreed to go on Umatilla reservation in Oregon, where in 1892 they were reported to number 216. A large proportion of those now called Cayuse on the same reservation are Umatilla mixed-bloods.

+Wallawalla+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonyms: Oualla-Oualla, Walawaltz, Wollawollah, Wollaw-Wollah. A tribe formerly occupying the country about the lower portion of the river of the same name and along the east bank of the Columbia from Snake river down nearly to the Umatilla, in Washington and Oregon. They take their name from the river, the word being said to refer to “rushing water.” Their language is said to resemble closely that of the Nez Percés. By the treaty of 1855 they agreed to go on Umatilla reservation, Oregon, where, in 1892, they were reported to number 474.

A small band of the same tribe, known to the Yakima as Walu′la-pûm, formerly lived on the west bank of the Columbia opposite the present Wallula. Their dialect is said to have been more akin to the Pä′lus language.

+Sahaptin+ or +Nez Percés+ (Shahaptian stock).—Synonyms: Chohoptins, Chopunnish (Lewis and Clark), Copunnish, Laaptin (misprint), Â′dal-k̔ato′igo, “people with hair cut across the forehead” (Kiowa name), Shi′wanĭsh (Tenino name, applied also to the Cayuse), Wa′pamĕtănt (Yakima name for the language). The Nez Percés are said to call themselves Sahaptin, and were named Nez Percés, or “pierced noses,” by the French from their former custom of wearing nose pendants. They are the most important tribe of the Shahaptian stock, and formerly occupied a large territory in eastern Washington and Oregon and central Idaho, bounded on the east by the main divide of the Bitterroot mountains, and including lower Grande Ronde and Salmon rivers, with a large part of the Snake and all of the Clearwater. The Wallowa valley, the disputed title to which led to the Nez Percé war, lies on a branch of the Grande Ronde, in Oregon. They had the Salishan tribes to the northeast, the Shoshonean tribes to the south, and the Cayuse, Wallawalla, and Pälus, with all of whom they are much intermarried, on the west and northwest. Almost all authorities give them a high character for bravery, intelligence, and honorable conduct traits which were strikingly displayed in the Nez Percé war.

Lewis and Clark traversed their country in 1805, and speak of them and some connected tribes under the name of Chopunnish, distinguished as follows: Chopunnish nation (about the present Lapwai reservation), Pelloatpallah band (the Pälus), Kimooenim band (on Snake river, between the Salmon and the Clearwater), Yeletpo band (the Cayuse), Willewah band (in Wallowa valley, afterward Joseph’s band), Soyennom band (on the north side of the upper Clearwater, in Idaho; these were really a part of the Pälus—the proper form is Tätqu′nma, whence Thatuna hills, referring to “a fawn” in the Pälus language, and was the name applied to their kamas ground about Camass creek), Chopunnish of Lewis river (on Snake river, below the Clearwater). In response to a request from the Nez Percés, who sent a delegation all the way to Saint Louis for that purpose in 1832, the first Protestant mission was established among them at Lapwai, Idaho, in 1837. Soon afterward they entered into relations with the government, and made their first treaty with the United States in 1855. By this treaty they ceded the greater portion of their territory, and were confirmed in the possession of a reservation including Wallowa valley. On the discovery of gold in the country, however, the miners rushed in, and in consequence a new treaty was made in 1863, by which they gave up all but the present Lapwai reservation in Idaho. Joseph, who occupied Wallowa valley with his band, refused to recognize this treaty or remove to Lapwai. This refusal finally led to the Nez Percé war in 1877, as already related. The main body of the tribe took no part in the war. After the surrender of Joseph his band was removed to Indian Territory, where the mortality among them was so great that in 1884 they were returned to the northwest. For several reasons, however, it was deemed unadvisable to settle them in the neighborhood of their old home, and a place was finally found for them in 1887 on Colville reservation in northern Washington. In 1892 there were 1,828 on Lapwai reservation and 138 on Colville reservation, a total population of 1,966.

+Chapter VIII+

THE SHAKERS OF PUGET SOUND

My breath was out and I died. All at once I saw a great shining light. Angels told me to look back. I did, and saw my own body lying dead. It had no soul. My soul left my body and went up to the judgment place of God.... My soul was told that I must come back and live on earth. When I came back, I told my friends, “There is a God. My good friends, be Christians. If you all try hard and help me, we shall be better men on earth.”—John Slocum.

In 1881 there originated among the tribes of Puget sound in Washington a new religion, which, although apparently not founded on any doctrinal prophecy, yet deserves special attention for the prominent part which hypnotism holds in its ceremonial. Indeed, there is good reason to believe that the Paiute messiah himself, and through him all the apostles of the Ghost dance, have obtained their knowledge of hypnotic secrets from the “Shakers” of Puget sound.

The founder of the religion is Squ-sacht-un, known, to the whites as John Slocum. He is now (1896) about 58 years of age. His chief high priest is Louis Yowaluch, or Ai-yäl as he is called by the Yakima. Both are of the Squaxin tribe. In 1881 (Eells makes it 1882) he “died” or fell into a trance one morning about daylight and remained in that condition until the middle of the afternoon, when he awoke and announced that he had been to heaven, but had been met at the entrance by angels, who forbade him to enter on account of his wickedness, and gave him his choice either to go to hell or return to earth and teach his people what they must do to get to heaven. Accordingly, he came back to earth and began his divinely appointed mission, introducing into the new doctrine and ritual a great deal of what he had learned from the white missionaries. From the nervous twitchings which so peculiarly distinguished them, his followers soon became known as “Shakers.” Although strongly opposed by the agent, who arrested and imprisoned the leaders and visited various minor penalties on their followers, the Shaker religion grew and flourished until it now has a regular organization with several houses of worship, and has received the official indorsement of the Presbyterian church.

The following account of the system, in response to a letter of inquiry, was obtained from the missionary, Reverend Myron Eells, brother of the agent:

A curious phase of religion sprang up in the fall of 1882 among some of the Indians on the southern part of Puget sound. It has prevailed mainly among the Squaxon, Nisqually, Skokomish, and Chehalis Indians, and has been called by its opponents the “Shake religion,” and its followers have been called “Shakers” on account of a large amount of nervous shaking which is a part of the form of its observance. It is evidently based upon about the same principles of the mind as the jerks and shouting at camp meetings among the whites of the southern and western states fifty years ago, when they were more ignorant and less acquainted with real religion than they are now. When superstition, ignorance, dreams, imagination, and religion are all mingled together, either among whites, Indians, or people of any other race, they produce a strange compound. It has proven so in this case.

In the fall of 1882 an Indian named John Slocum, who was living on Skookum bay, in Mason county, apparently died. Some years previous he had lived on the Skokomish reservation, where he had attended a Protestant church, and had learned something of the white man’s religion, God, Jesus Christ, and the morals inculcated. He had also learned something in his early life of the Catholic religion and its forms and ceremonies. Many Indians were present when he was sick and apparently died. They said his neck was broken, and that he remained dead for about six hours, when he returned to life, jumped up, and ran off a short distance, and soon began to converse with the people. Whether or not it was a case of suspended animation is a question. A white man, a near neighbor of his, who saw him before his apparent death, while he thus lay, and after his resuscitation, said he believed the Indian was “playing possum.” But the Indians believed that he really died and rose again.

The Indian stated that he died and attempted to go to heaven, but could not enter it because he was so wicked. He was there told, however, the way of life, and that he must return to this earth and teach his people the way, and induce them to become Christians. He gained a small band of followers, a church was built for him, and he steadily preached to the people.

Affairs went on this way until the next August. Then, after consultation with other Indians who favored him, especially on the Skokomish reservation, it was decided to hold a big meeting. The Indians of the surrounding region were called to go. They were told that they would be lost if they did not; that four women would be turned into angels; that persons would die and be raised to life again, and that other wonderful things would be done.

Many went, about half of those on the Skokomish reservation being among the number, and they did hold a big meeting. Women did go around trying to fly like angels; four persons are said to have died, and, with the power which was said to have been given them from above, others were said to have brought them back to life again. This was a mixture of trying to perform miracles, as in Bible times, to prove the divinity of their religion, and some of the ceremonies of their old black tomahnous. This was a secret society of their savage days, in which persons went into a hypnotic condition, in which they became very rigid, and out of which they came in the course of time. The followers of this new religion dreamed dreams, saw visions, went through some disgusting ceremonies a la mode the black tomahnous, and were taken with a kind of shaking. With their arms at full length, their hands and arms would shake so fast that a common person not under the excitement could hardly shake half as fast. Gazing into the heavens, their heads would also shake very fast, sometimes for a few minutes and sometimes for hours, or half the night. They would also brush each other with their hands, as they said, to brush off their sins, for they said they were much worse than white people, the latter being bad only in their hearts, while the Indians were so bad that the badness came to the surface of their bodies and the ends of their finger nails, so that it could be picked off. They sometimes brushed each other lightly, and sometimes so roughly that the person brushed was made black for a week, or even sick.

In connection with this they held church services, prayed to God, believed in Christ as a savior, said much about his death, and used the cross, their services being a combination of Protestant and Catholic services, though at first they almost totally rejected the Bible, for they said they had direct revelations from Christ, and were more fortunate than the whites, who had an old, antiquated book.

After having kept up this meeting for about a week, they disbanded and went to their homes, but did not stop their shaking or services. They sometimes held meetings from 6 oclock in the evening until about midnight, lighting candles and putting them on their heads for a long time. They became very peculiar about making the sign of the cross many times a day, when they began to eat as they asked a blessing, and when they finished their meal and returned thanks; when they shook hands with anyone—and they shook hands very often—when they went to church and prayer meeting on Thursday evening, and at many other times, far more often than the Catholics do.

On the Skokomish reservation their indiscretions caused the death of a mother and her child, and an additional loss of time and property to the amount of $600 or $800 in a few weeks. It also became a serious question whether the constant shaking of their heads would not make some of them crazy, and from symptoms and indications it was the opinion of the agency physician, J. T. Martin, that it would do so. Accordingly, on the reservation the authority of the agent was brought to bear, and to a great extent the shaking was stopped, though they were encouraged to keep on in the practice of some good habits which they had begun, of ceasing gambling, intemperance, their old style incantations over the sick, and the like. Some at first said they could not stop shaking, but that at their prayer meetings and church services on the Sabbath their hands and heads would continue to shake in spite of themselves; but after a short time, when the excitement had died away, they found that they could stop.

But about Skookum bay, Mud bay, and Squaxon the shaking continued, and it spread to the Nisqually and Chehalis Indians. It seemed to be as catching, to use the expression of the Indians, as the measles. Many who at first ridiculed it and fought against it, and invoked the aid of the agent to stop it, were drawn into it after a little, and then they became its strong upholders. This was especially true of the medicine-men, or Indian doctors, and those who had the strongest faith in them. The Shakers declared that all the old Indian religion, and especially the cure of the sick by the medicine-men, was from the devil, and they would have nothing to do with it, those who at first originated and propagated it having been among the more intelligent and progressive of the uneducated Indians. Very few of those who had learned to read and had been in Sabbath school for a considerable length of time were drawn into it. It was the class between the most educated and the most superstitious who at first upheld it. They seemed to know too much to continue in the old-style religious ceremonies, but not to know enough and to be too superstitious to fully believe the Bible. Consequently, the medicine-men were at first bitterly opposed to it. About this time, however, an order came from the Indian department to stop all medicine-men from practicing their incantations over the sick. As a respectable number of the Indians had declared against the old style of curing the sick, it seemed to be a good time to enforce this order, as there was sufficient popular opinion in connection with the authority of the agent to enforce it. This was done, and then the medicine-men almost entirely joined the Shakers, as their style was more nearly in accordance with the old style than with the religion of the Bible.

As it spread, one Indian went so far as to declare himself to be Christ again come to earth, and rode through the streets of Olympia at the head of several scores of his followers with his hands outstretched as Christ was when he was crucified. But he was so ridiculed by other Indians and by the whites that he gave up this idea and simply declared himself to be a prophet who had received revelations from heaven.

For several years there has been very little of the shaking or this mode of worship among the Indians on the reservation, excepting secretly when persons were sick. Still, their native superstition and their intercourse with those off the reservation, who sometimes hold a special gathering and meeting when their followers grow cold and careless, has kept the belief in it as a religion firm in their hearts, so that lately, since they have become citizens, and are hence more free from the authority of the agent, the practice of it has become more common, especially when persons are sick.

In fact, while it is a religion for use at all times, yet it is practiced especially over the sick, and in this way takes the place of the medicine-men and their methods. Unlike the system of the medicine-men, it has no single performer. Though often they select for leader one who can pray the best, yet in his absence another may take the lead. Like the old system, it has much noise. Especially do they use bells, which are rung over the person where the sickness is supposed to be. The others present use their influence to help in curing the sick one, and so imitate the attendants on an Indian doctor, getting down upon their knees on the floor and holding up their hands, with a candle in each hand, sometimes for an hour. They believe that by so holding up their hands the man who is ringing the bell will get the sickness out more easily than he otherwise would. They use candles both when they attempt to cure the sick and in their general service, eschewing lamps for fear of being easily tempted, as they believe coal-oil lights to be from Satan.

In another point also this resembles very closely their old religion. For a long time before a person is taken sick they foretell that his spirit is gone to heaven and profess to be able to bring it back and restore it to him, so that he will not die as soon as he otherwise would. This was also a part of the old tomahnous belief.

They have also prophesied very much. Several times when a person has died they have told me that someone had foretold this event, but they have never told me this until after the event happened, except in one case. They have prophesied much in regard to the end of the world and the day of judgment. Generally, the time set has been on a Fourth of July, and many have been frightened as the time drew near, but, alas, in every instance the prophecy failed. Like Christians, they believe in a Supreme Being, in prayer, the sabbath, in heaven and hell, in man as a sinner, and Christ as a savior, and the system led its followers to stop drinking, gambling, betting, horse racing, the use of tobacco, and the old-style incantations over the sick. Of late years, however, some of them have fallen from grace.

It has been a somewhat strange freak of human nature, a combination of morals and immorals, of Protestantism, Catholicism, and old Indian practices, of dreams and visions—a study in mental philosophy, showing what the mind may do under certain circumstances. Yet it is all easily accounted for. These Indians have mingled with the whites for a long time, nearly ever since most of them were small. All classes of whites have made sport of their religion—the infidel, the profane man, the immoral one, the moral one, and the Christian—and they have been told that God and the Bible were against it, consequently they lost faith in it. But the Indian must have some religion. He can not do without one. They were not ready to accept the Bible in all its purity. They wanted more excitement. Like the Dakota Indians more recently, they saw that Christ was the great center of the most powerful religion of the most powerful, intelligent, successful, and wisest nations with whom they came in contact. Consequently they formulated a system for themselves that would fill all their required conditions, and when a few leaders had originated it, a large share of the rest were ripe to accept it, but having had more Christian teaching than the wild Dakotas, it took a somewhat different form, with no thought of war and with more of real Christianity.

James Wickersham, esquire, of Tacoma, Washington, the well-known historian of that region, is the regular attorney for these people as a religious organization, and is consequently in a position to speak with authority concerning them. In reply to a letter of inquiry, he states that the Shakers believe in an actual localized heaven and hell, and reverence the Bible, but regard John Slocum’s revelations as of more authority. “They practice the strictest morality, sobriety, and honesty. Their 500 or 600 members are models, and it is beyond question that they do not drink whisky, gamble, or race, and are more free from vice than any other church. They practice a mixture of Catholic, Presbyterian, and old Indian ceremonies, and allow only Indians in the church. They have five churches, built by themselves, and the sect is growing quite rapidly.” From all this it would appear that the Shaker religion is a distinct advance as compared with the old Indian system.

Under date of December 5, 1892, Mr Wickersham wrote again on this subject, as follows:

I read your letter to my Indian friends, and they beg me to write you and explain that they are not Ghost dancers, and have no sympathy with that ceremony or any other founded on the Dreamer religion. That they believe in heaven as do the orthodox Christians; also in Christ, and God, the Father of all; that they believe in future rewards and punishments, but not in the Bible particularly. They do believe in it as a history, but they do not value it as a book of revelation. They do not need it, for John Slocum personally came back from a conference with the angels at the gates of heaven, and has imparted to them the actual facts and the angelic words of the means of salvation.

This testimony is even better than the words of Christ contained in the Bible, for John Slocum comes 1800 years nearer; he is an Indian, and personally appears to them and in Indian language reports the facts. These people believe Slocum as firmly as the martyr at the stake believed in that for which he offered up his life; but it is the Christian religion which they believe, and not the Ghost dance or Dreamer religion.

In short, they have a mixture of Catholic, Protestant, and Indian ceremonies, with a thorough belief in John Slocum’s personal visit to heaven, and his return with a mission to save the Indians and so guide them that they, too, shall reach the realms of bliss. Personally, I think they are honest, but mistaken; but the belief certainly has beneficial effect, and has reduced drinking and crime to a minimum among the members of the “Shaker” or “Tschaddam” church.

In conclusion, permit me to say that the general assembly of the Presbyterian church in this state has several times examined into the religion and character of the Shaker or Slocum church, and has highly indorsed its people and their character and actions. Yowaluch is their head now, and the strongest man mentally among them.

Some months later Mr Wickersham forwarded a circumstantial and carefully written statement of the history and present condition of the movement. In accordance with his request, we publish it as written, omitting only some paragraphs which do not bear directly on the general subject. It may be considered as an official statement of the Shaker case by their legally constituted representative. As might have been expected, he takes direct issue with those who have opposed the new religion. The reader will note the recurrence of the Indian sacred number, four, in Slocum’s speech, as also the fact that his first trance was the culmination of a serious illness.

Tschaddam or Shaker religion

“On Christmas day, 1854, a treaty was signed at the mouth of Shenahnam or Medicine creek, on the south side of Puget sound, Washington, between Isaac I. Stevens, governor and ex officio superintendent of Indian affairs for the United States, and the chief and headmen of the Nisqually, Puyallup, and other small tribes of Indians residing around the south shores of Puget sound.”

“One of these small tribes was the Squaxin, situated on the southwestern branch or arm of Puget sound, now known as Little Skookum bay, in Mason county, Washington, near Olympia. The remaining members of this tribe yet live on the old home places, having purchased small tracts of their old hunting grounds from the first settlers; and they now make a living by fishing and gathering oysters as in days of old. Of the fishy tribe of Squaxin was born John Slocum, as he is known to the ‘Boston man,’ but to his native friends he is known as Squ-sacht-un.”

“John Slocum, Squ-sacht-un, is now (1893) about 51 years of age, about 5 feet 8 inches high, and weighs about 160 pounds; rather stoop shouldered, with a scattering beard, a shock of long black hair, a flat head (fashionably flat, and produced by pressure while a baby), bright eyes, but in all rather a common expression of countenance. He is modest and rather retiring, but has unquestioned confidence in himself and his mission. He is married, and up to the time of his translation was looked on as a common Indian, with a slight inclination to fire-water and pony racing, as well as a known fondness for Indian gambling.”

“In the month of October, 1881, Slocum was unaccountably drawn to think of his evil courses. While in the woods he knelt and prayed to God, and began seriously to think of the error of his ways and of the evil days that had fallen on his few remaining native friends. Whisky, gambling, idleness, and general vice had almost exterminated his people. His eyes were opened to the folly of these facts, and he prayed. He, however, became sick; and as his sickness increased, these ideas became brighter in his mind and his duty more clear. He grew worse, and one day he died. He was pronounced dead by all present, and was laid out for burial. His brother went to Olympia for a coffin, and a grave was prepared. He died at 4 oclock in the morning, and late in the afternoon he again resumed life and recovered consciousness.”

“His recovery was rapid, and immediately he told those present that during his term of death his soul had been to heaven, where it had been met by the angels, who, after a proper inquiry as to his name, etc., told him that he had been bad on earth, and reminded him very forcibly of his shortcomings while there, and finally wound up by informing him that he could not enter heaven, but that he could either go to hell or could go back to the earth and preach to the Indians and tell them the way to heaven. He accepted this latter proposition, and the result was that his soul again returned to earth, reentered its old body, and has from that day to this animated Slocum with the spirit of a crusader against gambling, whisky drinking, and other ‘Boston’ vices.”

“About a year ago I was employed by these people as their attorney, and at their request attended the meetings in Mason county, and had a long conference with them. As a practical person would, Slocum undertook to demonstrate to me his honesty and the divine character of their religion, and at a large meeting composed only of Indians, members of his church, he made to me a long public statement of facts, and explained, through an interpreter, the character of their religion and of their belief. I wrote down at the time a synopsis of what was said to me, and now quote it at some length as being the exact words of Slocum, and as the best explanation of their religion.”

“Standing before all his people, in the most solemn and impressive manner, in their church, he said in substance:”

“The witnesses have spoken the truth. I was sick about two weeks, and had five Indian doctors. I grew very weak and poor. Dr Jim was there. He could not cure me. They wanted to save me, but my soul would die two or three hours at a time. At night my breath was out, and I died. All at once I saw a shining light—great light—trying my soul. I looked and saw my body had no soul—looked at my own body—it was dead.”

“I came through the first time and told my friends, ‘When I die, don’t cry,’ and then I died again. Before this I shook hands and told my friends I was going to die. Angels told me to look back and see my body. I did, and saw it lying down. When I saw it, it was pretty poor. My soul left body and went up to judgment place of God. I do not know about body after 4 oclock.”

“I have seen a great light in my soul from that good land; I have understand all Christ wants us to do. Before I came alive I saw I was sinner. Angel in heaven said to me, ‘You must go back and turn alive again on earth.’ I learned that I must be good Christian man on earth, or will be punished. My soul was told that I must come back and live four days on earth. When I came back, I told my friends, ‘There is a God—there is a Christian people. My good friends, be Christian.’”

“When I came alive, I tell my friends, ‘Good thing in heaven. God is kind to us. If you all try hard and help me we will be better men on earth.’ And now we all feel that it is so.”

“A good Christian man prayed with me four days. After four days, a voice said to me, ‘You shall live on earth four weeks.’ My soul was told that they must build a church for me in four weeks. I had lumber for a house, and my friends built church. Had it all done in four weeks but 6 feet of roof, and spread a mat over that. Soon as the church was finished the people came and filled the house and began to worship God. I felt strong—bigger than today—all these men know this. My friends worked hard, and I am here because they finished the house in four weeks. My soul was told to remain on earth four weeks more. All my friends came, and every Saturday we worshiped God. In four weeks more my soul was told that I should live on earth four years if I did right and preached for God. All felt thankful, and people joined the church—about fifty people. I was promised more time if we worshiped God.”

“A bad man can’t reach heaven. I believe in God. I saw how bad I used to be. God sends us light to see. They know in heaven what we think. When people are sick, we pray to God to cure us. We pray that he take the evil away and leave the good. If man don’t be Christian, he will suffer and see what is bad. When we remember Jesus Christ’s name, we always felt happy in our hearts. This is good road for us to travel if we hold on. If we do, God’s angels are near to our souls. Power from this to help us. When we pray, it helps us lots in our hearts. We don’t do good sometimes, because our hearts are not right. When our body and heart feel warm, we do good and sing good songs. As Christ said, he sends power to every believing soul on earth.”

“While one man can try to start religion here on earth, it don’t do much good; they won’t believe him much. That’s why we join to worship. Now we are preparing ourselves for judgment. For it is said, it don’t make any difference if he prays good and does good. God gives him help and words to speak. Makes no difference if ‘Boston’ or Indian, if God helps we know it. These things are what we learned. We learn good while we pray—voice says, Do good.”

“It is ten years, now, since we began, and we have good things. We all love these things and will follow them all time. We learn to help ourselves when sick. When our friend is sick, we kneel and ask for help to cure him. We learn something once in a while to cure him. Then we do as we know to help him and cure him. If we don’t learn to help him, we generally lose him.”

“This is a pretty accurate synopsis of the speech delivered to me by Slocum, and translated by another Indian, who spoke pretty good English. But that a more thorough knowledge may be given of their religious belief, I give also a brief synopsis of another speech made at the same meeting by Louis Yowaluch, a full-blood Indian, who is the legal head of this church. It is about as follows:”

“Well, my friend, we was about the poorest tribe on earth. We was only tribe now full blood and nothing else. We would not believe anything. Minister came here, but we laugh at him. We loved bad habits—stealing—and John Slocum died. He was not a religious man—knew nothing of God—all of us same. We heard there was a God from Slocum—we could see it. Same time we heard God, we believe it. I was worst of lot. I was drunkard—was half starving—spent every cent for whisky. I gambled, raced horses, bet shirt, money, blankets—did not know any better.”

“John Slocum brought good to us; his words civilized us. We could see. We all felt blind those times. We lost by drowning—our friends drink whisky and the canoes turn over—we died out in the bay. Today who stopped us from these things?”

“John Slocum came alive, and I remember God and felt frightened. We never heard such a thing as a man dying and bring word that there was a God. I became sick for three weeks, four weeks. I hear a voice saying to soul, ‘Tomorrow they will be coming to fix you up.’ Had just heard about John Slocum, and knew it was punishment for my bad habits. My heart was black—it was a bad thing.”

“Now I have quit swearing—my heart is upside down—it is changed. After I heard the voice I heard another say: ‘There it is now—some one to fix you up. Have you prepared your heart? If you don’t believe in Christ, you will go into a big fire and burn forever.’ I saw a man’s hand coming to my heart. That day I got up—was well—talked to my friends, advising them. I will remain a follower of Christ as long as I live.”

“Long ago we knew nothing at all. When Slocum came back from God, we found out there was a God. From that time we have prayed for anything we want. We follow God’s way. God teaches us if we do bad we will go to hell. That’s why we pray and avoid bad habits. If we don’t ask grace, bad things come when we eating. When we drink water, we think about God before drinking. If we don’t think of him, may be we get sick from water. If traveling, may be we die if we don’t think of God. We are afraid to do wrong against God. Long time ago we worked on Sundays, but no more now. Our brother Christ has given us six days to work. On Sunday pray to God. God put people here to grow—puts our soul in our body. That’s why we pray so much. If we quit, like a man quit his job, he gets no pay. We would go to fire in hell. We have no power to put out hell fire.”

“Louis Yowaluch is the strong man of the Shaker church. He is 6 feet tall, rawboned, muscular, and rather slow. While he may once have been, as he says, a drunkard, he is now a Christian man. His conservativeness makes him a fine leader for the organization, while all the Indians respect him for his humanity and charity, for his honesty and uprightness, for his fearlessness and love of right. He fully and freely places John Slocum at the head of the church, as the man who ascended to heaven and brought back a personal knowledge of the road, but at the same time he takes the lead in laying out work, building churches, and sending out preachers to new tribes.”

“A new feature of this religion is found in Sam Yowaluch, the brother of Louis. He is younger than Louis, and has more of the native superstition in his character. He has by common consent been placed at the head of the faith-cure branch of the church. The following synopsis of his ‘talk’ will be an explanation of his position:”

“Among the Shakers, John Slocum is first. Louis is next. I take power and cure people when they are sick. Long time ago I knew nothing—just like an animal. No doctoring, no medicine—no good. I was a drunkard, was a thief, and a robber. When I joined this religion, I was told to be good. When John Slocum was preaching, I heard that if I prayed I would have power and be a medicine-man, and could cure the sick. From time John Slocum preached I tried to be a good Christian man. I prayed and was sick—my soul was sick. I prayed to God and he pays me for that. There is lots of difference between this power and old Indian doctoring. This is not old power. I can cure people now. I have cured some white men and women, but they are ashamed to tell it. I cure without money. One big, rich man, Henry Walker, was sick—had great pains in his ear and leg. Doctor at Olympia failed to cure him, and he came to John Slocum and me. We worked for him, prayed, and he lay down and slept and was cured. He offered us twenty dollars—but no, we refused it. God will pay us when we die. This is our religion. When we die, we get our pay from God.”

“No, we do not believe the Bible. We believe in God, and in Jesus Christ as the Son of God, and we believe in a hell. In these matters we believe the same as the Presbyterians. We think fully of God today. A good Christian man is a good medicine-man. A good Christian man in the dark sees a light toward God. God makes a fog—good Christian man goes straight through it to the end, like good medicine. I believe this religion. It helps poor people. Bad man can’t see good—bad man can’t get to heaven—can’t find his way. We were sent to jail for this religion, but we will never give up. We all believe that John Slocum died and went to heaven, and was sent back to preach to the people. We all talk about that and believe it.”

“The Shakers use candles, bells, crucifixes, Catholic pictures, etc., in their church and other ceremonies. As Mr Ellis says, they use paraphernalia of the Catholic, Presbyterian, and even some of the Indian religion. They cross themselves as the Catholics do; they say grace before and after meals; they stand and pray and chant in unison; they set candles around the dead as the Catholics do, and believe in the cure of the sick by faith and prayer. In times of excitement many of them twitch and shake, but in no instance do they conduct themselves in so nervous a manner as I have seen orthodox Christians do at old Sandy Branch camp-meeting in Illinois. They believe that by praying with a man or woman and rubbing the person they could induce them to join their church, and could rub away their sins; but they have no rite, no ceremony, no belief, no policy, no form of religion that is not in use by some one or other of our orthodox people.”

“Their religion, in brief, is a belief in God as the father and ruler of all, and in Jesus Christ as the Son of God and the Savior of mankind. They know there is a heaven, for John Slocum was there, and believe in a hell of fire for the punishment of sinners, because the angels in heaven told John Slocum about it. They do not care for the Bible. It is of no use to them, for they have a distinct revelation direct from heaven. This is the only practical difference between them and the orthodox believers, and this they do not care for.”

Two of their songs, as recorded by Mr Wickersham, are as follows:

Stalib gwuch Kwē Shuck, or Song of Heaven

Alkwē klū sutlh akwē schelch huchum akwē shuck; When we get warning from heaven; Gwalch clah tlōwch kwē lehass; Then the angels will come; Gwalch clah gwä tä äddō kwē kä-kä tēdtēd; Then the wonderful bells will ring; Gwalch clah ass kwā-buch kwē kä-kä tsille; Then our souls will be ready; Gwalch clah ōwhuh tu shuck; Then they will go up to heaven; Gwalch clah tālib tōbuch ah shō-shō-quille; Then we will sing with Jesus; Gwalch clah jōil tōbuch ah shō-shō-quille. Then we will be happy with Jesus.

Quā-dā-tsits Stālib, or Preacher’s Song

Chelch lä tā lā, beuch; Then we shall sing; Chelch lä tā lā beuch; Then we shall sing; Chelch lä tā lā beuch; Then we shall sing; Al kwe shuck älläl. Up in heaven’s house.

Chelch lā jōilla; Then we’ll be happy; Chelch lā jōilla; Then we’ll be happy; Chelch lā jōilla, Then we’ll be happy, Al kwe shuck älläl. Up in heaven’s house.

Chelch lā jōilla; Then we’ll be happy; Chelch lā jōilla; Then we’ll be happy; Chelch lā jōilla, Then we’ll be happy, Yuchquē shō-shō-quille. Up with Jesus.

Mr Wickersham then gives an account of the persecutions to which the rising sect was for a long time subjected, chiefly at the hands of agent Edwin Eells and his brother, Reverend Myron Eells, already quoted at length, who was at that time the missionary on the Skokomish reservation. As Mr Wickersham’s statements in this regard are mainly in the form of extended quotations from Ten Years’ Missionary Work at Skokomish, written by the Reverend Mr Eells himself, they may be regarded as conclusive. It is apparent that a part at least of this persecution, which took the shape of banishment, chains, and imprisonment, and even the forcible seizure of a dead body from the bereaved relatives, was due to the fact that the Shakers, who considered themselves a genuine branch of the Christian church, were disposed to lean toward Catholicity rather than toward the denominational form upheld by the agent and his brother.

However, religious persecution failed as utterly in its purpose in this case as it has and must in all others. Quoting from Mr Eells, “The chiefs did not care if they were deposed, were about to resign, and did not wish to have anything more to do with the ‘Boston’ religion or the agent. Billy Clams was ready, if need be, to suffer as Christ did. He was willing to be a martyr.”

Mr Wickersham continues:

“While Billy Clams and some of his people publicly abandoned the forms of Shaker religion rather than be banished, yet John Slocum and his people refused to so surrender, and the agent sent out his police and arrested John Slocum, Louis Yowaluch, and two or three more of these people—good, true men—and, loading their limbs with chains, confined them for several weeks in the dirty little single room of a jail at the Puyallup agency, near Tacoma. Their only offense was worship of a different form from that adopted by the agent and his brother. They had broken no law, created no disorder, and yet they suffered ignominious incarceration in a vile dungeon, loaded with chains, at the pleasure of the agent. The Shakers believed in God, in Jesus Christ, in heaven and hell, in temperance, sobriety, and a virtuous life. They abandoned the old Indian religion and all its vices and forms, including the power of the doctors or medicine-men. These medicine-men had a great hold on the Indian mind, and they joined the minister and the agent in their fight on the Shakers, because the Shakers fought them; so that there was seen the unique spectacle of the savage shamanism of the American Indian and the supposed orthodox religion of civilization hand in hand fighting the followers of Jesus Christ.”

“Imprisonment, banishment, threats, chains, and the general ill will of the agent and all his employees were visited on these Shakers who continued to practice their forms of worship, and yet they did continue it. In spite of the fact that they occupied a place only half-way between slaves and freemen, and were under the orders of the agent and subject to be harassed and annoyed all the time by him, yet they continued nobly and fearlessly to practice their religion and to worship God and Jesus Christ as they saw fit. To do it, however, they were forced to stay away from the reservations, where the greater number of employees were located, and their churches were built on Mud bay and Oyster bay, far away from the reservations.”

“But a brighter day came for these people, a day when they could stand up and defy every form or force of persecution. In 1886 Congress passed the Indian land severalty bill, an act providing for dividing lands in severalty to Indians, and providing that those who took lands and adopted the habits of civilized life should be American citizens, with all the rights, privileges, and immunities of any other citizen. In 1892 I was appointed by Judge Hanford to defend a prisoner in the United States district court at Tacoma. The prisoner was accused of selling liquor to a Puyallup Indian, but it appeared on cross-examination that this Indian owned land in severalty, voted, paid taxes, and exercised other rights of citizenship. The question was then raised by me on motion to dismiss, that these land-holding, tax-paying Indians were citizens of the United States, free and independent. The United States prosecuting attorney appeared to contest the claim, but after an extended argument Judge Hanford held with me, and the prisoner was discharged.”

“The effect of this decision was far-reaching. It meant that all land-holding Indians were no longer wards of the government, but free citizens and not under the control of the Indian agent. The Shaker people, hearing this, sent a deputation to see me, and I held a long consultation with them, assuring them that they were as free as the agent, and could establish their own church, own and build houses of worship, and do both in religious and worldly matters as other citizens of the United States could. This was glorious news to them. It meant freedom, it meant the cessation of persecution and annoyance by the agency employees, and they were jubilant.”

“Accordingly they met on June 6, 1892, at Mud bay, at Louis Yowaluch’s house, and organized their church on a regular business basis. The following officers were elected: Headman, Louis Yowaluch; elders, John Slocum, Louis Yowaluch, John Smith, James Walker, Charles Walker, John W. Simmons, and William James. At this meeting the following persons were also appointed ministers of this church, and licenses were issued to them, to wit: Louis Yowaluch, John Slocum, James Tobin, John Powers, and Richard Jackson. Provision was made to establish a church at the Puyallup reservation, where the power of the agent had hitherto kept them out, and William James, a Puyallup landowner, gave land for a church. After much talk about sending out ministers, etc., the meeting adjourned, after a two days’ session, and the Shaker church, after eleven years’ fighting against persecutions, was an established fact, free and independent, with its own officers, ministers, and church property.”

“The spectacle of an Indian church with Indian officers, preachers, and members, and of houses built by the Indians for church purposes, was too much for the average citizen of Puget sound, and the Shakers were continually disturbed, not only by the whites, but by the Indians who could not and did not appreciate the change to citizenship, so that I was constantly applied to for protection by the ministers and members of the Shaker church. A ‘paper’ has a great effect on the average Indian, and I issued on application several papers addressed in general terms to those who might be disposed to interfere with them, which had a quieting effect and caused evil-disposed persons to respect the Indians and their religion, or at least to let them alone. They now feel quite confident of their position, and are acting quite like the average citizen. Even the persons who persecuted them for eleven years now felt obliged to retire from the conflict, and a day of peace is reached at last.”

“The Shaker church now reaches over nearly the whole of western Washington. The story of Slocum’s death and visit to heaven, and his return to preach to the Indians, is accepted by them as a direct revelation of the will of God. They say that they do not need to read the Bible, for do they not have better and more recent testimony of the existence of heaven and of the way to that celestial home than is contained in the Bible? Here is John Slocum, alive, and has he not been to heaven? Then, why read the Bible to learn the road, when John can so easily tell them all about it? The Bible says there are many roads; the Catholics have one, the Presbyterians another, and the Congregationalists a third; but John Slocum gives them a short, straight road—and they choose that.”

“The Shaker church now has a building for church purposes at Mud bay, at Oyster bay, at Cowlitz, Chehalis, and Puyallup. They have about a dozen ministers regularly licensed, and about 500 members. Most of the Indians at Skokomish belong, while the Squaxins, Chehalis, Nisqually, Cowlitz, and Columbia River Indians, and in fact the majority of the Indians of western Washington, either belong or are in sympathy with its teachings, so that it is now the strongest church among them. They are sending out runners to the Yakimas east of the Cascade mountains, and expect before long to make an effort to convert that tribe.”

“The Indian is inclined to be weak, and to adopt the vices of the white man, but not his virtues. However, this is not true of the Shakers. They do not drink intoxicants of any kind, and make a special effort at all times to banish liquor. This is the strong element in their faith, and the one for which they fight hardest. They feel upon their honor in the matter, and contrast the members of their church at every place with those belonging to the other denominations—and it is too true that an Indian does not seem at all to be restrained from drink by belonging to the other churches as he does in the Shaker church. In the others he feels no personal interest. The honor of neither himself nor his people is involved, and if he disgraces himself it reflects, in his opinion, rather on the white man’s church. Not so with the Shakers. No white man belongs to their church, and it is their boast that no white preacher can keep his Indian members from drink as they can—and it is true. After their opposition to liquor, next comes gambling. From these two vices flow nearly all troubles to the Indian, and the Shakers are certainly successful in extinguishing their spread among the Indians. They make special war on drunkenness, gambling, and horse racing, and preach honesty, sobriety, temperance, and right living.”

“The Presbyterian church occupies a queer position, with regard to these people. The Reverend M. G. Mann has been the missionary to the Indians of Puget sound for many years, and has succeeded in making a very favorable impression upon them. He has been specially attentive to the Shakers, and, to his credit be it said, has never tried to coerce them, and has only dealt with them kindly. So far has this gone that Louis Yowaluch was long ago taken into the Presbyterian church, and is now an accredited elder therein. Louis does not know, seemingly, how to escape from his dual position, or rather does not seem to think that he needs to escape. It all seems to be for the best interest of his people, so he continues to occupy the position of elder in the Presbyterian church and headman of the Shaker church.”

“At a recent meeting of the Presbyterian ministers the position of these Shaker people was fully discussed, and the strongest language was used in saying only good about them, and every effort seems to be made by the Presbyterians to claim the Shakers in a body as members of the Presbyterian church. If this account were not already too long, the reports of the church on the subject would be quoted, but the fact speaks volumes for the character of the Shakers and their teaching.”

“In conclusion: I have known the Shaker people now intimately, as their attorney, for more than a year, and out of the many drunken Indians I have seen in that time not one was a Shaker. Not one of their people has been arrested for crime in that time. They are good citizens, and are far more temperate and peaceable than those Indians belonging to the other churches. I feel that their church is a grand success in that it prevents idleness and vice, drunkenness and disorder, and tends to produce quiet, peaceable citizens, and good Christian people. I think the Presbyterians make a mistake in trying to bring the Shakers into their fold—they ought rather to protect them and give them every assistance in their autonomy. It adds the greatest incentive to their labors, and makes them feel as if they were of some account. It lets them labor for themselves, instead of feeling, as always heretofore, that some one else—they hardly knew who—was responsible. Their forms of Christianity are not very unorthodox—their Christianity is quite orthodox, not exactly because they take Slocum’s revelation instead of the Bible, but the result is the same—a Christian.”

“+James Wickersham.+” “+Tacoma, Washington+, June 25, 1893.”

From competent Indian informants of eastern Washington—Charles Ike, half-blood Yakima interpreter, and Chief Wolf Necklace of the Pä’lus, we gather additional particulars, from which it would appear that there are more things in the Shaker system than are dreamed of in the philosophy of the Presbyterian general assembly.

According to their statements, Yowaluch, or Ai-yäl, as he is known east of the Cascades, was noted as a gambler before he received his revelation. His followers are called Shäpupu-‛lĕma, or “blowers,” by the Yakima, from the fact that on meeting a stranger, instead of at once shaking hands with him in the usual manner, they first wave the hand gently in front of his face like a fan, and blow on him, in order to “blow away the badness” from him. They first appeared among the Yakima and other eastern tribes about six years ago, and are gradually gaining adherents, although as yet they have no regular time or place of assembly. They are much addicted to making the sign of the cross—the cross, it is hardly necessary to state, being as much an Indian as a Christian symbol—and are held in great repute as doctors, their treatment consisting chiefly of hypnotic performances over the patient, resulting in the spasmodic shaking already described. In doctoring a patient the “blowers” usually gather around him in a circle to the number of about twelve, dressed in a very attractive ceremonial costume, and each wearing on his head a sort of crown of woven cedar bark, in which are fixed two lighted candles, while in his right hand he carries a small cloth, and in the left another lighted candle. By fastening screens of colored cloth over the candles the light is made to appear yellow, white, or blue. The candle upon the forehead is yellow, symbolic of the celestial glory; that at the back of the head is white, typical of the terrestrial light, while the third is blue, the color of the sky.

Frequently also they carry in their hands or wear on their heads garlands of roses and other flowers of various colors, yellow, white, and blue being the favorite, which they say represent the colors of objects in the celestial world. While the leader is going through his hypnotic performance over the patient the others are waving the cloths and swinging in circles the candles held in their hands. In all this it is easy to see the influence of the Catholic ritual, with its censers, tapers, and flowers, with which these tribes have been more or less familiar for the last fifty years.

A single instance will suffice to show the methods of the blower doctors. The story is told from the Indian point of view, as related by the half-blood interpreter, who believed it all. About six years ago two of these doctors from the north, while visiting near Woodland on the Columbia, were called to the assistance of a woman who was seriously ill, and had received no benefit from the treatment of the native doctors. They came and almost immediately on seeing the patient announced to the relatives that the sickness had been put into her by the evil magic of a neighboring medicine-man, whom they then summoned into their presence. When the messenger arrived for him, the medicine-man refused to go, saying that the doctors were liars and that he had not made the woman ill. By their clairaudient power—or possibly by a shrewd anticipation of probabilities—the doctors in the other house knew of his refusal and sent another messenger to tell him that concealment or denial would not avail him, and that if he refused to come they would proceed to blow the sickness into his own body. Without further argument he accompanied the messengers to the sick woman’s house. As he entered, the chief doctor stepped up to him and looking intently into his face, said, “I can see your heart within your body, and it is black with evil things. You are not fit to live. You are making this woman sick, but we shall take out the badness from her body.” With the cloths and lighted candles the two doctors then approached the sick woman, and commanded her to arise, which she did, although she had been supposed to be too weak to stand. Waving the cloths in front of her with a gentle fanning motion, and blowing upon her at the same time, they proceeded to drive the disease out of her body, beginning at the feet and working upward until, as they approached the head the principal doctor changed the movement to a rapid fanning and corresponding blowing, while the assistant stood ready with his cloth to seize the disease when it should be driven out. All this time the medicine-man standing a few feet away was shaking and quivering like one in a fit, and the trembling became more violent and spasmodic as the doctors increased the speed of their motions. Finally the leader brought his hands together over the woman’s head, where, just as the disease attempted to escape, it was seized and imprisoned in the cloth held by his assistant. Then, going up to the medicine-man, with a few rapid passes they fanned the disease into his body and he fell down dead. The woman recovered, and with her sister has recently come up to the Yakima country as an apostle of the new religion, preaching the doctrines and performing the wonders which she has been taught by the Nisqually doctors.

This is the Indian story as told by the half-blood, who did not claim to have been an eye-witness, but spoke of it as a matter of common knowledge and beyond question. It is doubtless substantially correct. The hypnotic action described is the same which the author has repeatedly seen employed in the Ghost dance, resulting successively in involuntary trembling, violent spasmodic action, rigidity, and final deathlike unconsciousness. The Ghost dancers regard the process not only as a means of bringing them into trance communication with their departed friends, but also as a preventive and cure of disease, just as we have our faith healers and magnetic doctors. With the Indian’s implicit faith in the supernatural ability of the doctor, it is easy to suppose that the mental effect on the woman, who was told and believed that she was to be cured, would aid recovery if recovery was possible. It is unlikely that death resulted to the medicine-man. It is more probable that under the hypnotic spell of the doctors he fell unconscious and apparently lifeless and remained so perhaps for a considerable time, as frequently happens with sensitive subjects in the Ghost dance. The fact that the same process should produce exactly opposite effects in the two subjects is easily explainable. The object of the hypnotic performance was simply to bring the mind of the subject under the control of the operator. This accomplished, the mental, and ultimately the physical, effect on either subject was whatever the operator wished it to be. After bringing both under mental control in the manner described, he suggested recovery to the woman and sickness or death to the medicine-man, and the result followed.

Until the advent of these women from beyond the mountains such hypnotic performances seem to have been unknown among the Yakima and other eastern tribes of the Columbia region, the trance condition in the Smohalla devotees being apparently due entirely to the effect of the rhythmic dances and songs acting on excited imaginations, without the aid of blowing or manual passes.

Hypnotism and so-called magnetism, however, appear to have been employed by the medicine-men of the Chinook tribes of the lower Columbia from ancient times. Especially wonderful in this connection are the stories told of one of these men residing at Wushqûm or Wisham, near The Dalles.

About the time the two blower doctors appeared at Woodland, other apostles of the same doctrine, or it may have been the same two men, went up Willamet river into central Oregon, teaching the same system and performing the same wonders among the tribes of that region. And here comes in a remarkable coincidence, if it be no more. It is said among the northern Indians that on this journey these apostles met, somewhere in the south, a young man to whom they taught their mysteries, in which he became such an apt pupil that he soon outstripped his teachers, and is now working even greater wonders among his own people. This young man can be no other than Wovoka, the messiah of the Ghost dance, living among the Paiute in western Nevada. The only question is whether the story told among the Columbia tribes is a myth based on vague rumors of the southern messiah and his hypnotic performances, so similar to that of the blower doctors, or whether Wovoka actually derived his knowledge of such things from these northern apostles. The latter supposition is entirely within the bounds of possibility. The time corresponds with the date of his original revelations, as stated by himself to the writer. He is a young man, and, although he has never been far from home, the tribe to which he belongs roams in scattered bands over the whole country to the Willamet and the watershed of the Columbia, so that communication with the north is by no means difficult. He himself stated that Indians from Warmspring reservation, in northern Oregon, have attended his dances near Walker lake.

+Chapter IX+

WOVOKA THE MESSIAH

When the sun died, I went up to heaven and saw God and all the people who had died a long time ago. God told me to come back and tell my people they must be good and love one another, and not fight, or steal, or lie. He gave me this dance to give to my people.—Wovoka.

When Tävibo, the prophet of Mason valley, died, about 1870, he left a son named Wovoka, “The Cutter,” about 14 years of age. The prophetic claims and teachings of the father, the reverence with which he was regarded by the people, and the mysterious ceremonies which were doubtless of frequent performance in the little tulé wikiup at home must have made early and deep impression on the mind of the boy, who seems to have been by nature of a solitary and contemplative disposition, one of those born to see visions and hear still voices.

The physical environment was favorable to the development of such a character. His native valley, from which he has never wandered, is a narrow strip of level sage prairie some 30 miles in length, walled in by the giant sierras, their sides torn and gashed by volcanic convulsions and dark with gloomy forests of pine, their towering summits white with everlasting snows, and roofed over by a cloudless sky whose blue infinitude the mind instinctively seeks to penetrate to far-off worlds beyond. Away to the south the view is closed in by the sacred mountain of the Paiute, where their Father gave them the first fire and taught them their few simple arts before leaving for his home in the upper regions of the Sun-land. Like the valley of Rasselas, it seems set apart from the great world to be the home of a dreamer.

The greater portion of Nevada is an arid desert of rugged mountains and alkali plains, the little available land being confined to narrow mountain valleys and the borders of a few large lakes. These tracts are occupied by scattered ranchmen engaged in stock raising, and as the white population is sparse, Indian labor is largely utilized, the Paiute being very good workers. The causes which in other parts of the country have conspired to sweep the Indian from the path of the white man seem inoperative here, where the aboriginal proprietors are regarded rather as peons under the protection of the dominant race, and are allowed to set up their small camps of tulé lodges in convenient out-of-the-way places, where they spend the autumn and winter in hunting, fishing, and gathering seeds and piñon nuts, working at fair wages on ranches through spring and summer. In this way young Wovoka became attached to the family of a ranchman in Mason valley, named David Wilson, who took an interest in him and bestowed on him the name of Jack Wilson, by which he is commonly known among the whites. From his association with this family he gained some knowledge of English, together with a confused idea of the white man’s theology. On growing up he married, and still continued to work for Mr Wilson, earning a reputation for industry and reliability, but attracting no special notice until nearly 30 years of age, when he announced the revelation that has made him famous among the tribes of the west.

Following are the various forms of his name which I have noticed: Wo′voka, or Wü′voka, which I have provisionally rendered “Cutter,” derived from a verb signifying “to cut;” Wevokar, Wopokahte, Kwohitsauq, Cowejo, Koit-tsow, Kvit-Tsow, Quoitze Ow, Jack Wilson, Jackson Wilson, Jack Winson, John Johnson. He has also been confounded with Bannock Jim, a Mormon Bannock of Fort Hall reservation, Idaho, and with Johnson Sides, a Paiute living near Reno, Nevada, and bitterly opposed to Wovoka. His father’s name, Tävibo, has been given also as Waughzeewaughber. It is not quite certain that the Paiute prophet of 1870 was the father of Wovoka. This is stated to have been the case by one of Captain Lee’s informants (A. G. O., 4) and by Lieutenant Phister (Phister, 2). Wovoka himself says that his father did not preach, but was a “dreamer” with supernatural powers. Certain it is that a similar doctrine was taught by an Indian living in the same valley in Wovoka’s boyhood. Possibly the discrepancy might be explained by an unwillingness on the part of the messiah to share his spiritual honors.

In proportion as Wovoka and his doctrines have become subjects of widespread curiosity, so have they become subjects of ignorant misrepresentation and deliberate falsification. Different writers have made him a Paiute, a half-blood, and a Mormon white man. Numberless stories have been told of the origin and character of his mission and the day predicted for its final accomplishment. The most mischievous and persistent of these stories has been that which represents him as preaching a bloody campaign against the whites, whereas his doctrine is one of peace, and he himself is a mild-tempered member of a weak and unwarlike tribe. His own good name has been filched from him and he has been made to appear under a dozen different cognomens, including that of his bitterest enemy, Johnson Sides. He has been denounced as an impostor, ridiculed as a lunatic, and laughed at as a pretended Christ, while by the Indians he is revered as a direct messenger from the Other World, and among many of the remote tribes he is believed to be omniscient, to speak all languages, and to be invisible to a white man. We shall give his own story as told by himself, with such additional information as seems to come from authentic sources.

Notwithstanding all that had been said and written by newspaper correspondents about the messiah, not one of them had undertaken to find the man himself and to learn from his own lips what he really taught. It is almost equally certain that none of them had even seen a Ghost dance at close quarters—certainly none of them understood its meaning. The messiah was regarded almost as a myth, something intangible, to be talked about but not to be seen. The first reliable information as to his personality was communicated by the scout, Arthur Chapman, who, under instructions from the War Department, visited the Paiute country in December, 1890, and spent four days at Walker lake and Mason valley, and in the course of an interview with Wovoka obtained from him a detailed statement similar in all essentials to that which I obtained later on. (Sec. War, 3.)

After having spent seven months in the field, investigating the new religion among the prairie tribes, particularly the Arapaho, and after having examined all the documents bearing on the subject in the files of the Indian Office and War Department, the author left Washington in November, 1891, to find and talk with the messiah and to gather additional material concerning the Ghost dance. Before starting, I had written to the agent in charge of the reservation to which he was attached for information in regard to the messiah (Jack Wilson) and the dance, and learned in reply, with some surprise, that the agent had never seen him. The surprise grew into wonder when I was further informed that there were “neither Ghost songs, dances, nor ceremonials” among the Paiute.[6] This was discouraging, but not entirely convincing, and I set out once more for the west. After a few days with the Omaha and Winnebago in Nebraska, and a longer stay with the Sioux at Pine Ridge, where traces of the recent conflict were still fresh on every hand, I crossed over the mountains and finally arrived at Walker Lake reservation in Nevada.

On inquiry I learned that the messiah lived, not on the reservation, but in Mason valley, about 40 miles to the northwest. His uncle, Charley Sheep, lived near the agency, however, so I sought him out and made his acquaintance. He spoke tolerable—or rather intolerable—English, so that we were able to get along together without an interpreter, a fact which brought us into closer sympathy, as an interpreter is generally at best only a necessary evil. As usual, he was very suspicious at first, and inquired minutely as to my purpose. I explained to him that I was sent out by the government to the various tribes to study their customs and learn their stories and songs; that I had obtained a good deal from other tribes and now wanted to learn some songs and stories of the Paiute, in order to write them down so that the white people could read them. In a casual way I then offered to show him the pictures of some of my Indian friends across the mountains, and brought out the photos of several Arapaho and Cheyenne who I knew had recently come as delegates to the messiah. This convinced him that I was all right, and he became communicative. The result was that we spent about a week together in the wikiups (lodges of tulé rushes), surrounded always by a crowd of interested Paiute, discussing the old stories and games, singing Paiute songs, and sampling the seed mush and roasted piñon nuts. On one of these occasions, at night, a medicine-man was performing his incantations over a sick child on one side of the fire while we were talking on the other. When the ice was well thawed, I cautiously approached the subject of the ghost songs and dance, and, as confidence was now established, I found no difficulty in obtaining a number of the songs, with a description of the ceremonial. I then told Charley that, as I had taken part in the dance, I was anxious to see the messiah and get from him some medicine-paint to bring back to his friends among the eastern tribes. He readily agreed to go with me and use his efforts with his nephew to obtain what was wanted.

It is 20 miles northward by railroad from Walker River agency to Wabuska, and 12 miles more in a southwesterly direction from there to the Mason valley settlement. There we met a young white man named Dyer, who was well acquainted with Jack Wilson, and who also spoke the Paiute language, and learned from him that the messiah was about 12 miles farther up the valley, near a place called Pine Grove. Enlisting his services, with a team and driver, making four in all, we started up toward the mountain. It was New Year’s day of 1892, and there was deep snow on the ground, a very unusual thing in this part of the country, and due in this instance, as Charley assured us, to the direct agency of Jack Wilson. It is hard to imagine anything more monotonously unattractive than a sage prairie under ordinary circumstances unless it be the same prairie when covered by a heavy fall of snow, under which the smaller clumps of sagebrush look like prairie-dog mounds, while the larger ones can hardly be distinguished at a short distance from wikiups. However, the mountains were bright in front of us, the sky was blue overhead, and the road was good under foot.

Soon after leaving the settlement we passed the dance ground with the brush shelters still standing. We met but few Indians on the way. After several miles we noticed a man at some distance from the road with a gun across his shoulder. Dyer looked a moment and then exclaimed, “I believe that’s Jack now!” The Indian thought so, too, and pulling up our horses he shouted some words in the Paiute language. The man replied, and sure enough it was the messiah, hunting jack rabbits. At his uncle’s call he soon came over.

As he approached I saw that he was a young man, a dark full-blood, compactly built, and taller than the Paiute generally, being nearly 6 feet in height. He was well dressed in white man’s clothes, with the broad-brimmed white felt hat common in the west, secured on his head by means of a beaded ribbon under the chin. This, with a blanket or a robe of rabbit skins, is now the ordinary Paiute dress. He wore a good pair of boots. His hair was cut off square on a line below the base of the ears, after the manner of his tribe. His countenance was open and expressive of firmness and decision, but with no marked intellectuality. The features were broad and heavy, very different from the thin, clear-cut features of the prairie tribes.

As he came up he took my hand with a strong, hearty grasp, and inquired what was wanted. His uncle explained matters, adding that I was well acquainted with some of his Indian friends who had visited him a short time before, and was going back to the same people. After some deliberation he said that the whites had lied about him and he did not like to talk to them; some of the Indians had disobeyed his instructions and trouble had come of it, but as I was sent by Washington and was a friend of his friends, he would talk with me. He was hunting now, but if we would come to his camp that night he would tell us about his mission.

With another hand-shake he left us, and we drove on to the nearest ranch, arriving about dark. After supper we got ready and started across country through the sagebrush for the Paiute camp, some miles away, guided by our Indian. It was already night, with nothing to be seen but the clumps of snow-covered sagebrush stretching away in every direction, and after traveling an hour or more without reaching the camp, our guide had to confess that he had lost the trail. It was two years since he had been there, his sight was failing, and, with the snow and the darkness, he was utterly at a loss to know his whereabouts.

To be lost on a sage plain on a freezing night in January is not a pleasant experience. There was no road, and no house but the one we had left some miles behind, and it would be almost impossible to find our way back to that through the darkness. Excepting for a lantern there was no light but what came from the glare of the snow and a few stars in the frosty sky overhead. To add to our difficulty, the snow was cut in every direction by cattle trails, which seemed to be Indian trails, and kept us doubling and circling to no purpose, while in the uncertain gloom every large clump of sagebrush took on the appearance of a wikiup, only to disappoint us on a nearer approach. With it all, the night was bitterly cold and we were half frozen. After vainly following a dozen false trails and shouting repeatedly in hope of hearing an answering cry, we hit on the expedient of leaving the Indian with the wagon, he being the oldest man of the party, while the rest of us each took a different direction from the central point, following the cattle tracks in the snow and calling to each other at short intervals, in order that we might not become lost from one another. After going far enough to know that none of us had yet struck the right trail, the wagon was moved up a short distance and the same performance was repeated. At last a shout from our driver brought us all together. He declared that he had heard sounds in front, and after listening a few minutes in painful suspense we saw a shower of sparks go up into the darkness and knew that we had struck the camp. Going back to the wagon, we got in and drove straight across to the spot, where we found three or four little wikiups, in one of which we were told the messiah was awaiting our arrival.

On entering through the low doorway we found ourselves in a circular lodge made of bundles of tulé rushes laid over a framework of poles, after the fashion of the thatched roofs of Europe, and very similar to the grass lodges of the Wichita. The lodge was only about 10 feet in diameter and about 8 feet in height, with sloping sides, and was almost entirely open above, like a cone with the top cut off, as in this part of the country rain or snow is of rare occurrence. As already remarked, the deep snow at the time was something unusual. In the center, built directly on the ground, was a blazing fire of sagebrush, upon which fresh stalks were thrown from time to time, sending up a shower of sparks into the open air. It was by this means that we had been guided to the camp. Sitting or lying around the fire were half a dozen Paiute, including the messiah and his family, consisting of his young wife, a boy about 4 years of age, of whom he seemed very fond, and an infant. It was plain that he was a kind husband and father, which was in keeping with his reputation among the whites for industry and reliability. The only articles in the nature of furniture were a few grass woven bowls and baskets of various sizes and patterns. There were no Indian beds or seats of the kind found in every prairie tipi, no rawhide boxes, no toilet pouches, not even a hole dug in the ground for the fire. Although all wore white men’s dress, there were no pots, pans, or other articles of civilized manufacture, now used by even the most primitive prairie tribes, for, strangely enough, although these Paiute are practically farm laborers and tenants of the whites all around them, and earn good wages, they seem to covet nothing of the white man’s, but spend their money for dress, small trinkets, and ammunition for hunting, and continue to subsist on seeds, piñon nuts, and small game, lying down at night on the dusty ground in their cramped wikiups, destitute of even the most ordinary conveniences in use among other tribes. It is a curious instance of a people accepting the inevitable while yet resisting innovation.

Wovoka received us cordially and then inquired more particularly as to my purpose in seeking an interview. His uncle entered into a detailed explanation, which stretched out to a preposterous length, owing to a peculiar conversational method of the Paiute. Each statement by the older man was repeated at its close, word for word and sentence by sentence, by the other, with the same monotonous inflection. This done, the first speaker signified by a grunt of approval that it had been correctly repeated, and then proceeded with the next statement, which was duly repeated in like manner. The first time I had heard two old men conversing together in this fashion on the reservation I had supposed they were reciting some sort of Indian litany, and it required several such experiences and some degree of patience to become used to it.

At last he signified that he understood and was satisfied, and then in answer to my questions gave an account of himself and his doctrine, a great part of the interpretation being by Dyer, with whom he seemed to be on intimate terms. He said he was about 35 years of age, fixing the date from a noted battle[7] between the Paiute and the whites near Pyramid lake, in 1860, at which time he said he was about the size of his little boy; who appeared to be of about 4 years. His father, Tävibo, “White Man,” was not a preacher, but was a capita (from the Spanish capitan) or petty chief, and was a dreamer and invulnerable. His own proper name from boyhood was Wovoka or Wüvoka, “The Cutter,” but a few years ago he had assumed the name of his paternal grandfather, Kwohitsauq, or “Big Rumbling Belly.” After the death of his father he had been taken into the family of a white farmer, David Wilson, who had given him the name of Jack Wilson, by which he is commonly known among the whites. He thus has three distinct names, Wovoka, Kwohitsauq, and Jack Wilson. He stated positively that he was a full-blood, a statement borne out by his appearance. The impression that he is a half-blood may have arisen from the fact that his father’s name was “White Man” and that he has a white man’s name. His followers, both in his own and in all other tribes, commonly refer to him as “our father.” He has never been away from Mason valley and speaks only his own Paiute language, with some little knowledge of English. He is not acquainted with the sign language, which is hardly known west of the mountains.

When about 20 years of age, he married, and continued to work for Mr Wilson. He had given the dance to his people about four years before, but had received his great revelation about two years previously. On this occasion “the sun died” (was eclipsed) and he fell asleep in the daytime and was taken up to the other world. Here he saw God, with all the people who had died long ago engaged in their oldtime sports and occupations, all happy and forever young. It was a pleasant land and full of game. After showing him all, God told him he must go back and tell his people they must be good and love one another, have no quarreling, and live in peace with the whites; that they must work, and not lie or steal; that they must put away all the old practices that savored of war; that if they faithfully obeyed his instructions they would at last be reunited with their friends in this other world, where there would be no more death or sickness or old age. He was then given the dance which he was commanded to bring back to his people. By performing this dance at intervals, for five consecutive days each time, they would secure this happiness to themselves and hasten the event. Finally God gave him control over the elements so that he could make it rain or snow or be dry at will, and appointed him his deputy to take charge of affairs in the west, while “Governor Harrison” would attend to matters in the east, and he, God, would look after the world above. He then returned to earth and began to preach as he was directed, convincing the people by exercising the wonderful powers that had been given him.

In 1890 Josephus, a Paiute informant, thus described to the scout Chapman the occasion of Wovoka’s first inspiration: “About three years ago Jack Wilson took his family and went into the mountains to cut wood for Mr Dave Wilson. One day while at work he heard a great noise which appeared to be above him on the mountain. He laid down his ax and started to go in the direction of the noise, when he fell down dead, and God came and took him to heaven.” Afterward on one or two other occasions “God came and took him to heaven again.” Wovoka also told Chapman that he had then been preaching to the Indians about three years. In our conversation he said nothing about a mysterious noise, and stated that it was about two years since he had visited heaven and received his great revelation, but that it was about four years since he had first taught the dance to his people. The fact that he has different revelations from time to time would account for the discrepancy of statement.

He disclaimed all responsibility for the ghost shirt which formed so important a part of the dance costume among the Sioux; said that there were no trances in the dance as performed among his people—a statement confirmed by eye-witnesses among the neighboring ranchmen—and earnestly repudiated any idea of hostility toward the whites, asserting that his religion was one of universal peace. When questioned directly, he said he believed it was better for the Indians to follow the white man’s road and to adopt the habits of civilization. If appearances are in evidence he is sincere in this, for he was dressed in a good suit of white man’s clothing, and works regularly on a ranch, although living in a wikiup. While he repudiated almost everything for which he had been held responsible in the east, he asserted positively that he had been to the spirit world and had been given a revelation and message from God himself, with full control over the elements. From his uncle I learned that Wovoka has five songs for making it rain, the first of which brings on a mist or cloud, the second a snowfall, the third a shower, and the fourth a hard rain or storm, while when he sings the fifth song the weather again becomes clear.

I knew that he was holding something in reserve, as no Indian would unbosom himself on religious matters to a white man with whom he had not had a long and intimate acquaintance. Especially was this true in view of the warlike turn affairs had taken across the mountains. Consequently I accepted his statements with several grains of salt, but on the whole he seemed to be honest in his belief and his supernatural claims, although, like others of the priestly function, he occasionally resorts to cheap trickery to keep up the impression as to his miraculous powers. From some of the reports he is evidently an expert sleight-of-hand performer. He makes no claim to be Christ, the Son of God, as has been so often asserted in print. He does claim to be a prophet who has received a divine revelation. I could not help feeling that he was sincere in his repudiation of a number of the wonderful things attributed to him, for the reason that he insisted so strongly on other things fully as trying to the faith of a white man. He made no argument and advanced no proofs, but said simply that he had been with God, as though the statement no more admitted of controversy than the proposition that 2 and 2 are 4. From Mr J. O. Gregory, formerly employed at the agency, and well acquainted with the prophet, I learned that Wovoka had once requested him to draw up and forward to the President a statement of his supernatural claims, with a proposition that if he could receive a small regular stipend he would take up his residence on the reservation and agree to keep Nevada people informed of all the latest news from heaven and to furnish rain whenever wanted. The letter was never forwarded.

From a neighboring ranchman, who knew Wovoka well and sometimes employed him in the working season, I obtained a statement which seems to explain the whole matter. It appears that a short time before the prophet began to preach he was stricken down by a severe fever, during which illness the ranchman frequently visited and ministered to him. While he was still sick there occurred an eclipse of the sun, a phenomenon which always excites great alarm among primitive peoples. In their system the sun is a living being, of great power and beneficence, and the temporary darkness is caused by an attack on him by some supernatural monster which endeavors to devour him, and will succeed, and thus plunge the world into eternal night unless driven off by incantations and loud noises. On this occasion the Paiute were frantic with excitement and the air was filled with the noise of shouts and wailings and the firing of guns, for the purpose of frightening off the monster that threatened the life of their god. It was now, as Wovoka stated, “when the sun died,” that he went to sleep in the daytime and was taken up to heaven. This means simply that the excitement and alarm produced by the eclipse, acting on a mind and body already enfeebled by sickness, resulted in delirium, in which he imagined himself to enter the portals of the spirit world. Constant dwelling on the subject in thought by day and in dreams by night would effect and perpetuate the exalted mental condition in which visions of the imagination would have all the seeming reality of actual occurrences. To those acquainted with the spiritual nature of Indians and their implicit faith in dreams all this is perfectly intelligible. His frequent trances would indicate also that, like so many other religious ecstatics, he is subject to cataleptic attacks.

I have not been able to settle satisfactorily the date of this eclipse. From inquiry at the Nautical Almanac office I learn that solar eclipses visible in Nevada and the adjacent territory from 1884 to 1890 occurred as follows: 1884, October 18, partial; 1885, March 16, partial; 1886, March 5, partial; 1887, none; 1888, none; 1889, January 1, total or partial; 1890, none. The total eclipse of January 1, 1889, agrees best with his statement to me on New Year’s night, 1892, that it was about two years since he had gone up to heaven when the sun died. It must be noted that Indians generally count years by winters instead of by series of twelve calendar months, a difference which sometimes makes an apparent discrepancy of nearly a year.

In subsequent conversations he added a few minor details in regard to his vision and his doctrine. He asked many questions in regard to the eastern tribes whose delegates had visited him, and was pleased to learn that the delegates from several of these tribes were my friends. He spoke particularly of the large delegation—about twelve in number—from the Cheyenne and Arapaho, who had visited him the preceding summer and taken part in the dance with his people. Nearly all the members of this party were personally known to me, and the leader, Black Coyote, whose picture I had with me and showed to him, had been my principal instructor in the Ghost dance among the Arapaho. While this fact put me on a more confidential footing with Wovoka, it also proved of great assistance in my further investigation on my return to the prairie tribes, as, when they were satisfied from my statements and the specimens which I had brought back that I had indeed seen and talked with the messiah, they were convinced that I was earnestly desirous of understanding their religion aright, and from that time spoke freely and without reserve.

I had my camera and was anxious to get Wovoka’s picture. When the subject was mentioned, he replied that his picture had never been made; that a white man had offered him five dollars for permission to take his photograph, but that he had refused. However, as I had been sent from Washington especially to learn and tell the whites all about him and his doctrine, and as he was satisfied from my acquaintance with his friends in the other tribes that I must be a good man, he would allow me to take his picture. As usual in dealing with Indians, he wanted to make the most of his bargain, and demanded two dollars and a half for the privilege of taking his picture and a like sum for each one of his family. I was prepared for this, however, and refused to pay any such charges, but agreed to give him my regular price per day for his services as informant and to send him a copy of the picture when finished. After some demur he consented and got ready for the operation by knotting a handkerchief about his neck, fastening an eagle feather at his right elbow, and taking a wide brim sombrero upon his knee. I afterward learned that the feather and sombrero were important parts of his spiritual stock in trade. After taking his picture I obtained from him, as souvenirs to bring back and show to my Indian friends in Indian Territory, a blanket of rabbit skins, some piñon nuts, some tail feathers of the magpie, highly prized by the Paiute for ornamentation, and some of the sacred red paint, endowed with most miraculous powers, which plays so important a part in the ritual of the Ghost-dance religion. Then, with mutual expressions of good will, we parted, his uncle going back to the reservation, while I took the train for Indian Territory.

As soon as the news of my arrival went abroad among the Cheyenne and Arapaho on my return, my friends of both tribes came in, eager to hear all the details of my visit to the messiah and to get my own impressions of the man. In comparing notes with some of the recent delegates I discovered something of Wovoka’s hypnotic methods, and incidentally learned how much of miracle depends on the mental receptivity of the observer.

The Cheyenne and Arapaho, although for generations associated in the most intimate manner, are of very different characters. In religious matters it may be said briefly that the Arapaho are devotees and prophets, continually seeing signs and wonders, while the Cheyenne are more skeptical. In talking with Tall Bull, one of the Cheyenne delegates and then captain of the Indian police, he said that before leaving they had asked Wovoka to give them some proof of his supernatural powers. Accordingly he had ranged them in front of him, seated on the ground, he sitting facing them, with his sombrero between and his eagle feathers in his hand. Then with a quick movement he had put his hand into the empty hat and drawn out from it “something black.” Tall Bull would not admit that anything more had happened, and did not seem to be very profoundly impressed by the occurrence, saying that he thought there were medicine-men of equal capacity among the Cheyenne. In talking soon afterward with Black Coyote, one of the Arapaho delegates and also a police officer, the same incident came up, but with a very different sequel. Black Coyote told how they had seated themselves on the ground in front of Wovoka, as described by Tall Bull, and went on to tell how the messiah had waved his feathers over his hat, and then, when he withdrew his hand, Black Coyote looked into the hat and there “saw the whole world.” The explanation is simple. Tall Bull, who has since been stricken with paralysis, was a jovial, light-hearted fellow, fond of joking and playing tricks on his associates, but withal a man of good hard sense and disposed to be doubtful in regard to all medicine-men outside of his own tribe. Black Coyote, on the contrary, is a man of contemplative disposition, much given to speculation on the unseen world. His body and arms are covered with the scars of wounds which he has inflicted on himself in obedience to commands received in dreams. When the first news of the new religion came to the southern tribes, he had made a long journey, at his own expense, to his kindred in Wyoming, to learn the doctrine and the songs, and since his return had been drilling his people day and night in both. Now, on his visit to the fountain head of inspiration, he was prepared for great things, and when the messiah performed his hypnotic passes with the eagle feather, as I have so often witnessed in the Ghost dance, Black Coyote saw the whole spirit world where Tall Bull saw only an empty hat. From my knowledge of the men, I believe both were honest in their statements.

As a result of the confidence established between the Indians and myself in consequence of my visit to the messiah, one of the Cheyenne delegates named Black Sharp Nose, a prominent man in his tribe, soon after voluntarily brought down to me the written statement of the doctrine obtained from the messiah himself, and requested me to take it back and show it to Washington, to convince the white people that there was nothing bad or hostile in the new religion. The paper had been written by a young Arapaho of the same delegation who had learned some English at the Carlisle Indian school, and it had been taken down on the spot from the dictation of the messiah as his message to be carried to the prairie tribes. On the reverse page of the paper the daughter of Black Sharp Nose, a young woman who had also some school education, had written out the same thing in somewhat better English from her father’s dictation on his return. No white man had any part, directly or indirectly, in its production, nor was it originally intended to be seen by white men. In fact, in one part the messiah himself expressly warns the delegates to tell no white man.

+Chapter X+

THE DOCTRINE OF THE GHOST DANCE

You must not fight. Do no harm to anyone. Do right always.—Wovoka.

The great underlying principle of the Ghost dance doctrine is that the time will come when the whole Indian race, living and dead, will be reunited upon a regenerated earth, to live a life of aboriginal happiness, forever free from death, disease, and misery. On this foundation each tribe has built a structure from its own mythology, and each apostle and believer has filled in the details according to his own mental capacity or ideas of happiness, with such additions as come to him from the trance. Some changes, also, have undoubtedly resulted from the transmission of the doctrine through the imperfect medium of the sign language. The differences of interpretation are precisely such as we find in Christianity, with its hundreds of sects and innumerable shades of individual opinion. The white race, being alien and secondary and hardly real, has no part in this scheme of aboriginal regeneration, and will be left behind with the other things of earth that have served their temporary purpose, or else will cease entirely to exist.

All this is to be brought about by an overruling spiritual power that needs no assistance from human creatures; and though certain medicine-men were disposed to anticipate the Indian millennium by preaching resistance to the further encroachments of the whites, such teachings form no part of the true doctrine, and it was only where chronic dissatisfaction was aggravated by recent grievances, as among the Sioux, that the movement assumed a hostile expression. On the contrary, all believers were exhorted to make themselves worthy of the predicted happiness by discarding all things warlike and practicing honesty, peace, and good will, not only among themselves, but also toward the whites, so long as they were together. Some apostles have even thought that all race distinctions are to be obliterated, and that the whites are to participate with the Indians in the coming felicity; but it seems unquestionable that this is equally contrary to the doctrine as originally preached.

Different dates have been assigned at various times for the fulfillment of the prophecy. Whatever the year, it has generally been held, for very natural reasons, that the regeneration of the earth and the renewal of all life would occur in the early spring. In some cases July, and particularly the 4th of July, was the expected time. This, it may be noted, was about the season when the great annual ceremony of the sun dance formerly took place among the prairie tribes. The messiah himself has set several dates from time to time, as one prediction after another failed to materialize, and in his message to the Cheyenne and Arapaho, in August, 1891, he leaves the whole matter an open question. The date universally recognized among all the tribes immediately prior to the Sioux outbreak was the spring of 1891. As springtime came and passed, and summer grew and waned, and autumn faded again into winter without the realization of their hopes and longings, the doctrine gradually assumed its present form—that some time in the unknown future the Indian will be united with his friends who have gone before, to be forever supremely happy, and that this happiness may be anticipated in dreams, if not actually hastened in reality, by earnest and frequent attendance on the sacred dance.

On returning to the Cheyenne and Arapaho in Oklahoma, after my visit to Wovoka in January, 1892, I was at once sought by my friends of both tribes, anxious to hear the report of my journey and see the sacred things that I had brought back from the messiah. The Arapaho especially, who are of more spiritual nature than any of the other tribes, showed a deep interest and followed intently every detail of the narrative. As soon as the news of my return was spread abroad, men and women, in groups and singly, would come to me, and after grasping my hand would repeat a long and earnest prayer, sometimes aloud, sometimes with the lips silently moving, and frequently with tears rolling down the cheeks, and the whole body trembling violently from stress of emotion. Often before the prayer was ended the condition of the devotee bordered on the hysterical, very little less than in the Ghost dance itself. The substance of the prayer was usually an appeal to the messiah to hasten the coming of the promised happiness, with a petition that, as the speaker himself was unable to make the long journey, he might, by grasping the hand of one who had seen and talked with the messiah face to face, be enabled in his trance visions to catch a glimpse of the coming glory. During all this performance the bystanders awaiting their turn kept reverent silence. In a short time it became very embarrassing, but until the story had been told over and over again there was no way of escape without wounding their feelings. The same thing afterward happened among the northern Arapaho in Wyoming, one chief even holding out his hands toward me with short exclamations of hŭ! hŭ! hŭ! as is sometimes done by the devotees about a priest in the Ghost dance, in the hope, as he himself explained, that he might thus be enabled to go into a trance then and there. The hope, however, was not realized.

After this preliminary ordeal my visitors would ask to see the things which I had brought back from the messiah—the rabbit-skin robes, the piñon nuts, the gaming sticks, the sacred magpie feathers, and, above all, the sacred red paint. This is a bright-red ocher, about the color of brick dust, which the Paiute procure from the neighborhood of their sacred eminence, Mount Grant. It is ground, and by the help of water is made into elliptical cakes about 6 inches in length. It is the principal paint used by the Paiute in the Ghost dance, and small portions of it are given by the messiah to all the delegates and are carried back by them to their respective tribes, where it is mixed with larger quantities of their own red paint and used in decorating the faces of the participants in the dance, the painting being solemnly performed for each dancer by the medicine-man himself. It is believed to ward off sickness, to contribute to long life, and to assist the mental vision in the trance. On the battlefield of Wounded Knee I have seen this paint smeared on the posts of the inclosure about the trench in which are buried the Indians killed in the fight. I found it very hard to refuse the numerous requests for some of the paint, but as I had only one cake myself I could not afford to be too liberal. My friends were very anxious to touch it, however, but when I found that every man tried to rub off as much of it as possible on the palms of his hands, afterward smearing this dust on the faces of himself and his family, I was obliged in self-defense to put it entirely away.

The piñon nuts, although not esteemed so sacred, were also the subject of reverent curiosity. One evening, by invitation from Left Hand, the principal chief of the Arapaho, I went over to his tipi to talk with him about the messiah and his country, and brought with me a quantity of the nuts for distribution. On entering I found the chief and a number of the principal men ranged on one side of the fire, while his wife and several other women, with his young grandchildren, completed the circle on the other. Each of the adults in turn took my hand with a prayer, as before described, varying in length and earnestness according to the devotion of the speaker. This ceremony consumed a considerable time. I then produced the piñon nuts and gave them to Left Hand, telling him how they were used as food by the Paiute. He handed a portion to his wife, and before I knew what was coming the two arose in their places and stretching out their hands toward the northwest, the country of the messiah, made a long and earnest prayer aloud that Hesûnanin, “Our Father,” would bless themselves and their children through the sacred food, and hasten the time of his coming. The others, men and women, listened with bowed heads, breaking in from time to time with similar appeals to “the Father.” The scene was deeply affecting. It was another of those impressive exhibitions of natural religion which it has been my fortune to witness among the Indians, and which throw light on a side of their character of which the ordinary white observer never dreams. After the prayer the nuts were carefully divided among those present, down to the youngest infant, that all might taste of what to them was the veritable bread of life.

As I had always shown a sympathy for their ideas and feelings, and had now accomplished a long journey to the messiah himself at the cost of considerable difficulty and hardship, the Indians were at last fully satisfied that I was really desirous of learning the truth concerning their new religion. A few days after my visit to Left Hand, several of the delegates who had been sent out in the preceding August came down to see me, headed by Black Short Nose, a Cheyenne. After preliminary greetings, he stated that the Cheyenne and Arapaho were now convinced that I would tell the truth about their religion, and as they loved their religion and were anxious to have the whites know that it was all good and contained nothing bad or hostile they would now give me the message which the messiah himself had given to them, that I might take it back to show to Washington. He then took from a beaded pouch and gave to me a letter, which proved to be the message or statement of the doctrine delivered by Wovoka to the Cheyenne and Arapaho delegates, of whom Black Short Nose was one, on the occasion of their last visit to Nevada, in August, 1891, and written down on the spot, in broken English, by one of the Arapaho delegates, Casper Edson, a young man who had acquired some English education by several years’ attendance at the government Indian school at Carlisle, Pennsylvania. On the reverse page of the paper was a duplicate in somewhat better English, written out by a daughter of Black Short Nose, a school girl, as dictated by her father on his return. These letters contained the message to be delivered to the two tribes, and as is expressly stated in the text were not intended to be seen by a white man. The daughter of Black Short Nose had attempted to erase this clause before her father brought the letter down to me, but the lines were still plainly visible. It is the genuine official statement of the Ghost-dance doctrine as given by the messiah himself to his disciples. It is reproduced here in duplicate and verbatim, just as received, with a translation for the benefit of those not accustomed to Carlisle English. In accordance with the request of the Indians, I brought the original to Washington, where it was read by the Indian Commissioner, Honorable T. J. Morgan, after which I had two copies made, giving one to the commissioner and retaining the other myself, returning the original to its owner, Black Short Nose.

The Messiah Letter (Arapaho version)

What you get home you make dance, and will give ʸᵒᵘ the same. when you dance four days and ^{in night} one day, dance day time, five days and then fift, will wash five for every body. He likes you ᶠˡᵒᵏ you give him good many things, he heart been satting feel good. After you get home, will give good cloud, and give you chance to make you feel good. and he give you good spirit. and he give you ᵃˡ a good paint.

You folks want you to come in three [months] here, any tribs from there. There will ᴮᵉ good bit snow this year. Sometimes rain’s, in fall, this year some rain, never give you any thing like that. grandfather said when he die never ⁿᵒ cry. no hurt anybody. no fight, good behave always, it will give you satisfaction, this young man, he is a good Father and mother, dont tell no white man. Jueses was on ground, he just like cloud. Every body is alive again, I dont know when they will [be] here, may be this fall or in spring.

Every body never get sick, be young again,—(if young fellow no sick any more,) work for white men never trouble with him until you leave, when it shake the earth dont be afraid no harm any body.

You make dance for six ʷᵉᵉᵏˢ night, and put you foot [food?] in dance to eat for every body and wash in the water. that is all to tell, I am in to you. and you will received a good words from him some time, Dont tell lie.

The Messiah Letter (Cheyenne version)

When you get home you have to make dance. You must dance four nights and one day time. You will take bath in the morning before you go to yours homes, for every body, and give you all the same as this. Jackson Wilson likes you all, he is glad to get good many things. His heart satting fully of gladness, after you get home, I will give you a good cloud and give you chance to make you feel good. I give you a good spirit, and give you all good paint, I want you people to come here again, want them in three months any tribs of you from there. There will be a good deal snow this year. Some time rains, in fall this year some rain, never give you any thing like that, grandfather, said, when they were die never cry, no hurt any body, do any harm for it, not to fight. Be a good behave always. It will give a satisfaction in your life. This young man is a good father and mother. Do not tell the white people about this, Juses is on the ground, he just like cloud. Every body is a live again. I don’t know when he will be here, may be will be this fall or in spring. When it happen it may be this. There will be no sickness and return to young again. Do not refuse to work for white man or do not make any trouble with them until you leave them. When the earth shakes do not be afraid it will not hurt you. I want you to make dance for six weeks. Eat and wash good clean yourselves [The rest of the letter had been erased].

The Messiah Letter (free Rendering)

When you get home you must make a dance to continue five days. Dance four successive nights, and the last night keep up the dance until the morning of the fifth day, when all must bathe in the river and then disperse to their homes. You must all do in the same way.

I, Jack Wilson, love you all, and my heart is full of gladness for the gifts you have brought me. When you get home I shall give you a good cloud [rain?] which will make you feel good. I give you a good spirit and give you all good paint. I want you to come again in three months, some from each tribe there [the Indian Territory].

There will be a good deal of snow this year and some rain. In the fall there will be such a rain as I have never given you before.

Grandfather [a universal title of reverence among Indians and here meaning the messiah] says, when your friends die you must not cry. You must not hurt anybody or do harm to anyone. You must not fight. Do right always. It will give you satisfaction in life. This young man has a good father and mother. [Possibly this refers to Casper Edson, the young Arapaho who wrote down this message of Wovoka for the delegation].

Do not tell the white people about this. Jesus is now upon the earth. He appears like a cloud. The dead are all alive again. I do not know when they will be here; maybe this fall or in the spring. When the time comes there will be no more sickness and everyone will be young again.

Do not refuse to work for the whites and do not make any trouble with them until you leave them. When the earth shakes [at the coming of the new world] do not be afraid. It will not hurt you.

I want you to dance every six weeks. Make a feast at the dance and have food that everybody may eat. Then bathe in the water. That is all. You will receive good words again from me some time. Do not tell lies.

Every organized religion has a system of ethics, a system of mythology, and a system of ritual observance. In this message from the high priest of the Ghost dance we have a synopsis of all three. With regard to the ritual part, ceremonial purification and bathing have formed a part in some form or other of every great religion from the beginning of history, while the religious dance dates back far beyond the day when the daughter of Saul “looked through a window and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord.” The feasting enjoined is a part of every Indian ceremonial gathering, religious, political, or social. The dance is to continue four successive nights, in accord with the regular Indian system, in which four is the sacred number, as three is in Christianity. In obedience to this message the southern prairie tribes, after the return of the delegation in August, 1891, ceased to hold frequent one-night dances at irregular intervals as formerly without the ceremonial bathing, and adopted instead a system of four-night dances at regular periods of six weeks, followed by ceremonial bathing on the morning of the fifth day.

The mythology of the doctrine is only briefly indicated, but the principal articles are given. The dead are all arisen and the spirit hosts are advancing and have already arrived at the boundaries of this earth, led forward by the regenerator in shape of cloud-like indistinctness. The spirit captain of the dead is always represented under this shadowy semblance. The great change will be ushered in by a trembling of the earth, at which the faithful are exhorted to feel no alarm. The hope held out is the same that has inspired the Christian for nineteen centuries—a happy immortality in perpetual youth. As to fixing a date, the messiah is as cautious as his predecessor in prophecy, who declares that “no man knoweth the time, not even the angels of God.” His weather predictions also are about as definite as the inspired utterances of the Delphian oracle.

The moral code inculcated is as pure and comprehensive in its simplicity as anything found in religious systems from the days of Gautama Buddha to the time of Jesus Christ. “Do no harm to any one. Do right always.” Could anything be more simple, and yet more exact and exacting? It inculcates honesty—“Do not tell lies.” It preaches good will—“Do no harm to any one.” It forbids the extravagant mourning customs formerly common among the tribes—“When your friends die, you must not cry,” which is interpreted by the prairie tribes as forbidding the killing of horses, the burning of tipis and destruction of property, the cutting off of the hair and the gashing of the body with knives, all of which were formerly the sickening rule at every death until forbidden by the new doctrine. As an Arapaho said to me when his little boy died, “I shall not shoot any ponies, and my wife will not gash her arms. We used to do this when our friends died, because we thought we would never see them again, and it made us feel bad. But now we know we shall all be united again.” If the Kiowa had held to the Ghost-dance doctrine instead of abandoning it as they had done, they would have been spared the loss of thousands of dollars in horses, tipis, wagons, and other property destroyed, with much of the mental suffering and all of the physical laceration that resulted in consequence of the recent fatal epidemic in the tribe, when for weeks and months the sound of wailing went up night and morning, and in every camp men and women could be seen daily, with dress disordered and hair cut close to the scalp, with blood hardened in clots upon the skin, or streaming from mutilated fingers and fresh gashes on face, and arms, and legs. It preaches peace with the whites and obedience to authority until the day of deliverance shall come. Above all, it forbids war—“You must not fight.” It is hardly possible for us to realize the tremendous and radical change which this doctrine works in the whole spirit of savage life. The career of every Indian has been the warpath. His proudest title has been that of warrior. His conversation by day and his dreams by night have been of bloody deeds upon the enemies of his tribe. His highest boast was in the number of his scalp trophies, and his chief delight at home was in the war dance and the scalp dance. The thirst for blood and massacre seemed inborn in every man, woman, and child of every tribe. Now comes a prophet as a messenger from God to forbid not only war, but all that savors of war—the war dance, the scalp dance, and even the bloody torture of the sun dance—and his teaching is accepted and his words obeyed by four-fifths of all the warlike predatory tribes of the mountains and the great plains. Only those who have known the deadly hatred that once animated Ute, Cheyenne, and Pawnee, one toward another, and are able to contrast it with their present spirit of mutual brotherly love, can know what the Ghost-dance religion has accomplished in bringing the savage into civilization. It is such a revolution as comes but once in the life of a race.

The beliefs held among the various tribes in regard to the final catastrophe are as fairly probable as some held on the same subject by more orthodox authorities. As to the dance itself, with its scenes of intense excitement, spasmodic action, and physical exhaustion even to unconsciousness, such manifestations have always accompanied religious upheavals among primitive peoples, and are not entirely unknown among ourselves. In a country which produces magnetic healers, shakers, trance mediums, and the like, all these things may very easily be paralleled without going far from home.

In conclusion, we may say of the prophet and his doctrine what has been said of one of his apostles by a careful and competent investigator: “He has given these people a better religion than they ever had before, taught them precepts which, if faithfully carried out, will bring them into better accord with their white neighbors, and has prepared the way for their final Christianization.” (G. D., 4, and A. G. O., 5.)

We may now consider details of the doctrine as held by different tribes, beginning with the Paiute, among whom it originated. The best account of the Paiute belief is contained in a report to the War Department by Captain J. M. Lee, who was sent out in the autumn of 1890 to investigate the temper and fighting strength of the Paiute and other Indians in the vicinity of Fort Bidwell in northeastern California. We give the statement obtained by him from Captain Dick, a Paiute, as delivered one day in a conversational way and apparently without reserve, after nearly all the Indians had left the room:

Long time, twenty years ago, Indian medicine-man in Mason’s valley at Walker lake talk same way, same as you hear now. In one year, maybe, after he begin talk he die. Three years ago another medicine-man begin same talk. Heap talk all time. Indians hear all about it everywhere. Indians come from long way off to hear him. They come from the east; they make signs. Two years ago me go to Winnemucca and Pyramid lake, me see Indian Sam, a head man, and Johnson Sides. Sam he tell me he just been to see Indian medicine-man to hear him talk. Sam say medicine-man talk this way:

“All Indians must dance, everywhere, keep on dancing. Pretty soon in next spring Big Man [Great Spirit] come. He bring back all game of every kind. The game be thick everywhere. All dead Indians come back and live again. They all be strong just like young men, be young again. Old blind Indian see again and get young and have fine time. When Old Man [God] comes this way, then all the Indians go to mountains, high up away from whites. Whites can’t hurt Indians then. Then while Indians way up high, big flood comes like water and all white people die, get drowned. After that water go way and then nobody but Indians everywhere and game all kinds thick. Then medicine-man tell Indians to send word to all Indians to keep up dancing and the good time will come. Indians who don’t dance, who don’t believe in this word, will grow little, just about a foot high, and stay that way. Some of them will be turned into wood and be burned in fire.” That’s the way Sam tell me the medicine-man talk. (A. G. O., 6.)

Lieutenant N. P. Phister, who gathered a part of the material embodied in Captain Lee’s report, confirms this general statement and gives a few additional particulars. The flood is to consist of mingled mud and water, and when the faithful go up into the mountains, the skeptics will be left behind and will be turned to stone. The prophet claims to receive these revelations directly from God and the spirits of the dead Indians during his trances. He asserts also that he is invulnerable, and that if soldiers should attempt to kill him they would fall down as if they had no bones and die, while he would still live, even though cut into little pieces. (Phister, 3.)

One of the first and most prominent of those who brought the doctrine to the prairie tribes was Porcupine, a Cheyenne, who crossed the mountains with several companions in the fall of 1889, visited Wovoka, and attended the dance near Walker lake, Nevada. In his report of his experiences, made some months later to a military officer, he states that Wovoka claimed to be Christ himself, who had come back again, many centuries after his first rejection, in pity to teach his children. He quotes the prophet as saying:

I found my children were bad, so I went back to heaven and left them, I told them that in so many hundred years I would come back to see my children. At the end of this time I was sent back to try to teach them. My father told me the earth was getting old and worn out and the people getting bad, and that I was to renew everything as it used to be and make it better.

He also told us that all our dead were to be resurrected; that they were all to come back to earth, and that, as the earth was too small for them and us, he would do away with heaven and make the earth itself large enough to contain us all; that we must tell all the people we met about these things. He spoke to us about fighting, and said that was bad and we must keep from it; that the earth was to be all good hereafter, and we must all be friends with one another. He said that in the fall of the year the youth of all good people would be renewed, so that nobody would be more than forty years old, and that if they behaved themselves well after this the youth of everyone would be renewed in the spring. He said if we were all good he would send people among us who could heal all our wounds and sickness by mere touch and that we would live forever. He told us not to quarrel or fight or strike each other, or shoot one another; that the whites and Indians were to be all one people. He said if any man disobeyed what he ordered his tribe would be wiped from the face of the earth; that we must believe everything he said, and we must not doubt him or say he lied; that if we did, he would know it; that he would know our thoughts and actions in no matter what part of the world we might be. (G. D., 5.)

Here we have the statement that both races are to live together as one. We have also the doctrine of healing by touch. Whether or not this is an essential part of the system is questionable, but it is certain that the faithful believe that great physical good comes to them, to their children, and to the sick from the imposition of hands by the priests of the dance, apart from the ability thus conferred to see the things of the spiritual world.

Another idea here presented, namely, that the earth becomes old and decrepit, and requires that its youth be renewed at the end of certain great cycles, is common to a number of tribes, and has an important place in the oldest religions of the world. As an Arapaho who spoke English expressed it, “This earth too old, grass too old, trees too old, our lives too old. Then all be new again.” Captain H. L. Scott also found among the southern plains tribes the same belief that the rivers, the mountains, and the earth itself are worn out and must be renewed, together with an indefinite idea that both races alike must die at the same time, to be resurrected in new but separate worlds.

The Washo, Pit River, Bannock, and other tribes adjoining the Paiute on the north and west hold the doctrine substantially as taught by the messiah himself. We have but little light in regard to the belief as held by the Walapai, Cohonino, Mohave, and Navaho to the southward, beyond the general fact that the resurrection and return of the dead formed the principal tenet. As these tribes received their knowledge of the new religion directly from Paiute apostles, it is quite probable that they made but few changes in or additions to the original gospel.

A witness of the dance among the Walapai in 1891 obtained from the leaders of the ceremony about the same statement of doctrine already mentioned as held by the Paiute, from whom also the Walapai had adopted many of the songs and ceremonial words used in connection with the dance. They were then expecting the Indian redeemer to appear on earth some time within three or four years. They were particularly anxious to have it understood that their intentions were not hostile toward the whites and that they desired to live in peace with them until the redeemer came, but that then they would be unable to prevent their destruction even if they wished. (J. F. L., 3.)

The manner of the final change and the destruction of the whites has been variously interpreted as the doctrine was carried from its original center. East of the mountains it is commonly held that a deep sleep will come on the believers, during which the great catastrophe will be accomplished, and the faithful will awake to immortality on a new earth. The Shoshoni of Wyoming say this sleep will continue four days and nights, and that on the morning of the fifth day all will open their eyes in a new world where both races will dwell together forever. The Cheyenne, Arapaho, Kiowa, and others, of Oklahoma, say that the new earth, with all the resurrected dead from the beginning, and with the buffalo, the elk, and other game upon it, will come from the west and slide over the surface of the present earth, as the right hand might slide over the left. As it approaches, the Indians will be carried upward and alight on it by the aid of the sacred dance feathers which they wear in their hair and which will act as wings to bear them up. They will then become unconscious for four days, and on waking out of their trance will find themselves with their former friends in the midst of all the oldtime surroundings. By Sitting Bull, the Arapaho apostle, it is thought that this new earth as it advances will be preceded by a wall of fire which will drive the whites across the water to their original and proper country, while the Indians will be enabled by means of the sacred feathers to surmount the flames and reach the promised land. When the expulsion of the whites has been accomplished, the fire will be extinguished by a rain continuing twelve days. By a few it is believed that a hurricane with thunder and lightning will come to destroy the whites alone. This last idea is said to be held also by the Walapai of Arizona, who extend its provisions to include the unbelieving Indians as well. (G. D., 6.) The doctrine held by the Caddo, Wichita, and Delaware, of Oklahoma, is practically the same as is held by the Arapaho and Cheyenne from whom they obtained it. All these tribes believe that the destruction or removal of the whites is to be accomplished entirely by supernatural means, and they severely blame the Sioux for having provoked a physical conflict by their impatience instead of waiting for their God to deliver them in his own good time.

Among all the tribes which have accepted the new faith it is held that frequent devout attendance on the dance conduces to ward off disease and restore the sick to health, this applying not only to the actual participants, but also to their children and friends. The idea of obtaining temporal blessings as the reward of a faithful performance of religious duties is too natural and universal to require comment. The purification by the sweat-bath, which forms an important preliminary to the dance among the Sioux, while devotional in its purpose, is probably also sanitary in its effect.

Among the powerful and warlike Sioux of the Dakotas, already restless under both old and recent grievances, and more lately brought to the edge of starvation by a reduction of rations, the doctrine speedily assumed a hostile meaning and developed some peculiar features, for which reason it deserves particular notice as concerns this tribe. The earliest rumors of the new messiah came to the Sioux from the more western tribes in the winter of 1888–89, but the first definite account was brought by a delegation which crossed the mountains to visit the messiah in the fall of 1889, returning in the spring of 1890. On the report of these delegates the dance was at once inaugurated and spread so rapidly that in a few months the new religion had been accepted by the majority of the tribe.

Perhaps the best statement of the Sioux version is given by the veteran agent, James McLaughlin, of Standing Rock agency. In an official letter of October 17, 1890, he writes that the Sioux, under the influence of Sitting Bull, were greatly excited over the near approach of a predicted Indian millennium or “return of the ghosts,” when the white man would be annihilated and the Indian again supreme, and which the medicine-men had promised was to occur as soon as the grass was green in the spring. They were told that the Great Spirit had sent upon them the dominant race to punish them for their sins, and that their sins were now expiated and the time of deliverance was at hand. Their decimated ranks were to be reinforced by all the Indians who had ever died, and these spirits were already on their way to reinhabit the earth, which had originally belonged to the Indians, and were driving before them, as they advanced, immense herds of buffalo and fine ponies. The Great Spirit, who had so long deserted his red children, was now once more with them and against the whites, and the white man’s gunpowder would no longer have power to drive a bullet through the skin of an Indian. The whites themselves would soon be overwhelmed and smothered under a deep landslide, held down by sod and timber, and the few who might escape would become small fishes in the rivers. In order to bring about this happy result, the Indians must believe and organize the Ghost dance.

The agent continues:

It would seem impossible that any person, no matter how ignorant, could be brought to believe such absurd nonsense, but as a matter of fact a great many Indians of this agency actually believe it, and since this new doctrine has been ingrafted here from the more southern Sioux agencies the infection has been wonderful, and so pernicious that it now includes some of the Indians who were formerly numbered with the progressive and more intelligent, and many of our very best Indians appear dazed and undecided when talking of it, their inherent superstition having been thoroughly aroused. (G. D., 7.)

The following extract is from a translation of a letter dated March 30, 1891, written in Sioux by an Indian at Pine Ridge to a friend at Rosebud agency:

And now I will tell another thing. Lately there is a man died and come to life again, and he say he has been to Indian nation of ghosts, and tells us dead Indian nation all coming home. The Indian ghost tell him come after his war bonnet. The Indian (not ghost Indian) gave him his war bonnet and he died again. (G. D., 8.)

The Sioux, like other tribes, believed that at the moment of the catastrophe the earth would tremble. According to one version the landslide was to be accompanied by a flood of water, which would flow into the mouths of the whites and cause them to choke with mud. Storms and whirlwinds were also to assist in their destruction. The Indians were to surmount the avalanche, probably in the manner described in speaking of the southern tribes, and on reaching the surface of the new earth would behold boundless prairies covered with long grass and filled with great herds of buffalo and other game. When the time was near at hand, they must assemble at certain places of rendezvous and prepare for the final abandonment of all earthly things by stripping off their clothing. In accordance with the general idea of a return to aboriginal habits, the believers, as far as possible, discarded white man’s dress and utensils. Those who could procure buckskin—which is now very scarce in the Sioux country—resumed buckskin dress, while the dancers put on “ghost shirts” made of cloth, but cut and ornamented in Indian fashion. No metal of any kind was allowed in the dance, no knives, and not even the earrings or belts of imitation silver which form such an important part of prairie Indian costume. This was at variance with the custom among the Cheyenne and other southern tribes, where the women always wear in the dance their finest belts studded with large disks of German silver. The beads used so freely on moccasins and leggings seem to have been regarded as a substitute for the oldtime wampum and porcupine quill work, and were therefore not included in the prohibition. No weapon of any kind was allowed to be carried in the Ghost dance by any tribe, north or south, a fact which effectually disposes of the assertion that this was another variety of war dance. At certain of the Sioux dances, however, sacred arrows and a sacred bow, with other things, were tied on the tree in the center of the circle.

EXPLANATION OF PLATE XCIII

The originals of these ghost shirts, now in the National Museum, were taken, by scouts present during the fight, from the bodies of Indians killed at Wounded Knee, and were obtained by the author, at Pine Ridge, from Philip Wells and Louis Menard, mixed-blood interpreters, the former having also been present as interpreter for the Indian scouts during the fight. They are made of coarse white cloth, sewn with sinew. One of the shirts is partially burned, having probably been taken out of one of the tipis overturned and set on fire during the action. Two other ghost shirts, said to be from the same battlefield, are also in the National Museum.

Valuable light in regard to the Sioux version of the doctrine is obtained from the sermon delivered at Red Leaf camp, on Pine Ridge reservation, October 31, 1890, by Short Bull, one of those who had been selected to visit the messiah, and who afterward became one of the prime leaders in the dance:

My friends and relations: I will soon start this thing in running order. I have told you that this would come to pass in two seasons, but since the whites are interfering so much, I will advance the time from what my father above told me to do, so the time will be shorter. Therefore you must not be afraid of anything. Some of my relations have no ears, so I will have them blown away.

Now, there will be a tree sprout up, and there all the members of our religion and the tribe must gather together. That will be the place where we will see our dead relations. But before this time we must dance the balance of this moon, at the end of which time the earth will shiver very hard. Whenever this thing occurs, I will start the wind to blow. We are the ones who will then see our fathers, mothers, and everybody. We, the tribe of Indians, are the ones who are living a sacred life. God, our father himself, has told and commanded and shown me to do these things.

Our father in heaven has placed a mark at each point of the four winds. First, a clay pipe, which lies at the setting of the sun and represents the Sioux tribe. Second, there is a holy arrow lying at the north, which represents the Cheyenne tribe. Third, at the rising of the sun there lies hail, representing the Arapaho tribe. Fourth, there lies a pipe and nice feather at the south, which represents the Crow tribe. My father has shown me these things, therefore we must continue this dance. If the soldiers surround you four deep, three of you, on whom I have put holy shirts, will sing a song, which I have taught you, around them, when some of them will drop dead. Then the rest will start to run, but their horses will sink into the earth. The riders will jump from their horses, but they will sink into the earth also. Then you can do as you desire with them. Now, you must know this, that all the soldiers and that race will be dead. There will be only five thousand of them left living on the earth. My friends and relations, this is straight and true.

Now, we must gather at Pass creek where the tree is sprouting. There we will go among our dead relations. You must not take any earthly things with you. Then the men must take off all their clothing and the women must do the same. No one shall be ashamed of exposing their persons. My father above has told us to do this, and we must do as he says. You must not be afraid of anything. The guns are the only things we are afraid of, but they belong to our father in heaven. He will see that they do no harm. Whatever white men may tell you, do not listen to them, my relations. This is all. I will now raise my hand up to my father and close what he has said to you through me. (Short Bull; War, 4.)

The pipe here referred to is the most sacred thing in Sioux mythology and will be more fully described in treating of the Sioux songs. The sacred object of the Cheyenne is the “medicine arrow,” now in the keeping of the band living near Cantonment, Oklahoma. The Crow and Arapaho references are not so clear. The Arapaho are called by the Sioux the “Blue Cloud” people, a name which may possibly have some connection with hail. The sprouting tree at which all the believers must gather refers to the tree or pole which the Sioux planted in the center of the dance circle. The cardinal directions here assigned to the other tribes may refer to their former locations with regard to the Sioux. The Cheyenne and Arapaho, who now live far west and south of the Sioux, originally lived north and east of them, about Red river and the Saskatchewan.

The most noted thing connected with the Ghost dance among the Sioux is the “ghost shirt” which was worn by all adherents of the doctrine—men, women, and children alike. It is described by Captain Sword in his account of the Ghost dance, given in the appendix to this chapter, and will be noticed at length hereafter in treating of the ceremony of the dance. During the dance it was worn as an outside garment, but was said to be worn at other times under the ordinary dress. Although the shape, fringing, and feather adornment were practically the same in every case, considerable variation existed in regard to the painting, the designs on some being very simple, while the others were fairly covered with representations of sun, moon, stars, the sacred things of their mythology, and the visions of the trance. The feathers attached to the garment were always those of the eagle, and the thread used in the sewing was always the old-time sinew. In some cases the fringe or other portions were painted with the sacred red paint of the messiah. The shirt was firmly believed to be impenetrable to bullets or weapons of any sort. When one of the women shot in the Wounded Knee massacre was approached as she lay in the church and told that she must let them remove her ghost shirt in order the better to get at her wound, she replied: “Yes; take it off. They told me a bullet would not go through. Now I don’t want it any more.”

The protective idea in connection with the ghost shirt does not seem to be aboriginal. The Indian warrior habitually went into battle naked above the waist. His protecting “medicine” was a feather, a tiny bag of some sacred powder, the claw of an animal, the head of a bird, or some other small object which could be readily twisted into his hair or hidden between the covers of his shield without attracting attention. Its virtue depended entirely on the ceremony of the consecration and not on size or texture. The war paint had the same magic power of protection. To cover the body in battle was not in accordance with Indian usage, which demanded that the warrior should be as free and unincumbered in movement as possible. The so-called “war shirt” was worn chiefly in ceremonial dress parades and only rarely on the warpath.

Dreams are but incoherent combinations of waking ideas, and there is a hint of recollection even in the wildest visions of sleep. The ghost shirt may easily have been an inspiration from a trance, while the trance vision itself was the result of ideas derived from previous observation or report. The author is strongly inclined to the opinion that the idea of an invulnerable sacred garment is not original with the Indians, but, like several other important points pertaining to the Ghost-dance doctrine, is a practical adaptation by them of ideas derived from contact with some sectarian body among the whites. It may have been suggested by the “endowment robe” of the Mormons, a seamless garment of white muslin adorned with symbolic figures, which is worn by their initiates as the most sacred badge of their faith, and by many of the believers is supposed to render the wearer invulnerable. The Mormons have always manifested a particular interest in the Indians, whom they regard as the Lamanites of their sacred writings, and hence have made special efforts for their evangelization, with the result that a considerable number of the neighboring tribes of Ute, Paiute, Bannock, and Shoshoni have been received into the Mormon church and invested with the endowment robe. (See the appendix to this chapter: “The Mormons and the Indians;” also “Tell It All,” by Mrs T. B. H. Stenhouse.) The Shoshoni and northern Arapaho occupy the same reservation in Wyoming, and anything which concerns one tribe is more or less talked of by the other. As the Sioux, Cheyenne, and other eastern tribes make frequent visits to the Arapaho, and as these Arapaho have been the great apostles of the Ghost dance, it is easy to see how an idea borrowed by the Shoshoni from the Mormons could find its way through the Arapaho first to the Sioux and Cheyenne and afterward to more remote tribes. Wovoka himself expressly disclaimed any responsibility for the ghost shirt, and whites and Indians alike agreed that it formed no part of the dance costume in Mason valley. When I first went among the Cheyenne and neighboring tribes of Oklahoma in January, 1891, the ghost shirt had not yet reached them. Soon afterward the first one was brought down from the Sioux country by a Cheyenne named White Buffalo, who had been a Carlisle student, but the Arapaho and Cheyenne, after debating the matter, refused to allow it to be worn in the dance, on the ground that the doctrine of the Ghost dance was one of peace, whereas the Sioux had made the ghost shirt an auxiliary of war. In consequence of this decision such shirts have never been worn by the dancers among the southern tribes. Instead they wear in the dance their finest shirts and dresses of buckskin, covered with painted and beaded figures from the Ghost-dance mythology and the visions of the trance.

The Ghost dance is variously named among the different tribes. In its original home among the Paiute it is called Nänigükwa, “dance in a circle” (nüka, dance), to distinguish it from the other dances of the tribe, which have only the ordinary up-and-down step without the circular movement. The Shoshoni call it Tänä′räyün or Tämanä′rayära, which may be rendered “everybody dragging,” in allusion to the manner in which the dancers move around the circle holding hands, as children do in their ring games. They insist that it is a revival of a similar dance which existed among them fifty years ago. The Comanche call it A′p-anĕka′ra, “the Father’s dance,” or sometimes the dance “with joined hands.” The Kiowa call it Mânposo′ti guan, “dance with clasped hands,” and the frenzy, guan â′dalka-i, “dance craziness.” The Caddo know it as Ă′ă kakĭ′mbawi′ut, “the prayer of all to the Father,” or as the Nänisana ka-au′-shan, “nänisana dance,” from nänisana, “my children,” which forms the burden of so many of the ghost songs in the language of the Arapaho, from whom they obtained the dance. By the Sioux, Arapaho, and most other prairie tribes it is called the “spirit” or “ghost” dance (Sioux, Wana′ghi wa′chipi; Arapaho, Thigû′nawat), from, the fact that everything connected with it relates to the coming of the spirits of the dead from the spirit world, and by this name it has become known among the whites.

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