Part 12 (2/2)

When a party is discovered approaching thus, and are near enough to distinguish signals, all that is necessary in order to ascertain their disposition is to raise the right hand with the palm in front, and gradually push it forward and back several times. They all understand this to be a command to halt, and if they are not hostile it will at once be obeyed.

After they have stopped the right hand is raised again as before, and slowly moved to the right and left, which signifies ”I do not know you. Who are you?” As all the wild tribes have their peculiar pantomimic signals by which they are known, they will then answer the inquiry by giving their signal. If this should not be understood, they may be asked if they are friends by raising both hands grasped in the manner of shaking hands, or by locking the two fore-fingers firmly while the hands are held up. If friendly, they will respond with the same signal; but if enemies, they will probably disregard the command to halt, or give the signal of anger by closing the hand, placing it against the forehead, and turning it back and forth while in that position.

The pantomimic vocabulary is understood by all the Prairie Indians, and when oral communication is impracticable it const.i.tutes the court or general council language of the Plains. The signs are exceedingly graceful and significant; and, what was a fact of much astonishment to me, I discovered they were very nearly the same as those practiced by the mutes in our deaf and dumb schools, and were comprehended by them with perfect facility.

The Comanche is represented by making with the hand a waving motion in imitation of the crawling of a snake.

The Cheyenne, or ”Cut-arm,” by drawing the hand across the arm, to imitate cutting it with a knife.

The Arapahoes, or ”Smellers,” by seizing the nose with the thumb and fore-finger.

The Sioux, or ”Cut-throats,” by drawing the hand across the throat.

The p.a.w.nees, or ”Wolves,” by placing a hand on each side of the forehead, with two fingers pointing to the front, to represent the narrow, sharp ears of the wolf.

The Crows, by imitating the flapping of the bird's wings with the palms of the hands.

When Indians meet a party of strangers, and are disposed to be friendly, the chiefs, after the usual salutations have been exchanged, generally ride out and accompany the commander of the party some distance, holding a friendly talk, and, at the same time, indulging their curiosity by learning the news, etc. Phlegmatic and indifferent as they appear to be, they are very inquisitive and observing, and, at the same time, exceedingly circ.u.mspect and cautious about disclosing their own purposes.

They are always desirous of procuring, from whomsoever they meet, testimonials of their good behavior, which they preserve with great care, and exhibit upon all occasions to strangers as a guarantee of future good conduct.

On meeting with a chief of the Southern Comanches in 1849, after going through the usual ceremony of embracing, and a.s.suring me that he was the best friend the Americans ever had among the Indians, he exhibited numerous certificates from the different white men he had met with, testifying to his friendly disposition. Among these was one that he desired me to read with special attention, as he said he was of the opinion that perhaps it might not be so complimentary in its character as some of the others. It was in these words:

”The bearer of this says he is a Comanche chief, named Senaco; that he is the biggest Indian and best friend the whites ever had; in fact, that he is a first-rate fellow; but I believe he is a d--d rascal, so look out for him.”

I smiled on reading the paper, and, looking up, found the chief's eyes intently fixed upon mine with an expression of the most earnest inquiry. I told him the paper was not as good as it might be, whereupon he destroyed it.

Five years after this interview I met Senaco again near the same place. He recognized me at once, and, much to my surprise, p.r.o.nounced my name quite distinctly.

A circ.u.mstance which happened in my interview with this Indian shows their character for diplomatic policy.

I was about locating and surveying a reservation of land upon which the government designed to establish the Comanches, and was desirous of ascertaining whether they were disposed voluntarily to come into the measure. In this connection, I stated to him that their Great Father, the President, being anxious to improve their condition, was willing to give them a permanent location, where they could cultivate the soil, and, if they wished it, he would send white men to teach them the rudiments of agriculture, supply them with farming utensils, and all other requisites for living comfortably in their new homes. I then desired him to consult with his people, and let me know what their views were upon the subject.

After talking a considerable time with his head men, he rose to reply, and said, ”He was very happy to learn that the President remembered his poor red children in the Plains, and he was glad to see me again, and hear from me that their Great Father was their friend; that he was also very much gratified to meet his agent who was present, and that he should remember with much satisfaction the agreeable interview we had had upon that occasion.” After delivering himself of numerous other non-committal expressions of similar import, he closed his speech and took his seat without making the slightest allusion to the subject in question.

On reminding him of this omission, and again demanding from him a distinct and categorical answer, he, after a brief consultation with his people, replied that his talk was made and concluded, and he did not comprehend why it was that I wanted to open the subject anew. But, as I continued to press him for an answer, he at length said, ”You come into our country and select a small patch of ground, around which you run a line, and tell us the President will make us a present of this to live upon, when every body knows that the whole of this entire country, from the Red River to the Colorado, is now, and always has been, ours from time immemorial. I suppose, however, if the President tells us to confine ourselves to these narrow limits, we shall be forced to do so, whether we desire it or not.”

He was evidently averse to the proposed change in their mode of life, and has been at war ever since the establishment of the settlement.

The mode of life of the nomadic tribes, owing to their unsettled and warlike habits, is such as to render their condition one of constant danger and apprehension. The security of their numerous animals from the encroachments of their enemies and habitual liability to attacks compels them to be at all times upon the alert. Even during profound peace they guard their herds both night and day, while scouts are often patrolling upon the surrounding heights to give notice of the approach of strangers, and enable them to secure their animals and take a defensive att.i.tude.

When one of these people conceives himself injured his thirst for revenge is insatiable. Grave and dignified in his outward bearing, and priding himself upon never exhibiting curiosity, joy, or anger, yet when once roused he evinces the implacable dispositions of his race; the affront is laid up and cherished in his breast, and nothing can efface it from his mind until ample reparation is made. The insult must be atoned for by presents, or be washed out with blood.

WAR EXPEDITIONS.

When a chief desires to organize a war-party, he provides himself with a long pole, attaches a red flag to the end of it, and trims the top with eagle feathers. He then mounts his horse in his war-costume, and rides around through the camp singing the war-song. Those who are disposed to join the expedition mount their horses and fall into the procession; after parading about for a time, all dismount, and the war-dance is performed. This ceremony is continued from day to day until a sufficient number of volunteers are found to accomplish the objects desired, when they set out for the theatre of their intended exploits.

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