CHAPTER XXIV.

FREE MASONRY AMONG THE INDIANS; MEDICINE DANCE; AND WAR DANCES.

As I was walking one day in the camp of the Winnebagoes, I observed a group of Indians collected around one of the lodges, deeply absorbed in the performance of some strange and mysterious rites, apparently of a symbolical and religious nature. The _women_ were engaged in them, as well as the men--and all in public. At one moment they would seem to be occupied in a sort of _hocus-pocus_ incantation, with the greatest imaginable solemnity. In spite of my philosophy, I could but sympathise with them. I verily stood waiting, from the degree of faith and expectation which they manifested, to see some strange and miraculous phenomena; spirits perhaps, coming up from the caldron they appeared to be stirring. True, there was no caldron visible to the vulgar--to us--no kettle of any fashion--no _material_ vessel of capacity;--but they were evidently and earnestly stirring up something over a fire. They formed a circle, men and women, with a sort of pudding-stick--_alias_ a witch’s or wizard’s rod;--and round and round they walked, with a gravity, at sight of which few would not have felt solemn, each one stirring the caldron in turn, as he or she came where it was--or _should_ be;--reciting at the same time some mysterious words. There was manifestly an expectation of some wondrous result. They grew excited--they danced--they raved--and seemed to be the subjects of involuntary and violent muscular spasms. They would stop suddenly, and lift up the head, like the dog that bays the moon; and mutter with a most inconceivable volubility a long prayer--or some other piece of religious exercise, I know not what, apparently of a devotional character. This baying of the heavens, however, appeared to be the exclusive office of certain distinguished individuals--priests most likely. There was no miracle, after all. The ceremonies were diversified, and pompous, and solemn.

“What is this?” said I to a companion, who knew something of Indian customs. “Why,” said he, “it is _Free-masonry_;--and if you could stay long enough to see the whole, you would be greatly amused.” “But do the _women_ take a part?” “O yes--the Indians are farther advanced in Free-masonry, than civilized nations:--they have taken higher degrees. The white masons, you know, are just _beginning_ to confer degrees upon women. But Indians have done it from time immemorial.” “But the society here is open.” “Certainly. Secresy is all nonsense. There is no mystery in masonry, except in the higher degrees, in relation to the lower; and in all the degrees, in relation to the world. The white Free-masons have found it convenient for _other_ purposes, to hold their meetings in conclave;--not for secresy. There is no secresy, except what results from physical necessity:--that a man cannot know what he has never learned. Pretended secresy lends importance to that, which is supposed to be kept out of sight--awakens curiosity, and gives amazing advantage to nothing.” “Indeed? This is information.” “I am glad, if you are wiser for it.”

One cannot have been long among the Indians, and not have had his attention challenged by a DRUMMING in some quarter, from morning to night, and from night to morning;--and sometimes for several successive days, without intermission, except by very short intervals of repose. The Indian drum is made exactly according to the philosophy of the martial instrument of music, which bears this name in Europe. But if the _beauty_ be brought into comparison--that is another thing. An old hollow trunk of a tree, cut into a section of two or three feet, without any other work, except what was first done by the hand of nature, and next by time, will answer all the purpose. One end may be planted in the ground, if it is not convenient to put a head in it; the other must be covered by a buck-skin, stretched over it, when wet, with great pains and force, and fastened by strings and withes to pegs, driven into the longitudinal parts of the trunk. By this description every one will see, that the instrument combines all the philosophical principles of a drum. Whether the American Aborigines borrowed the suggestion from Europeans, or the latter from the former; or whether each came by the discovery independent of the other--is of no importance to our present purpose to settle. The American Indians have the drum--that is certain; and if they wish to make it portable, they contrive to fasten a hollow sounding cover of some sort on the other end;--perhaps nail on a thin board, when their arts, or trade will furnish them with iron for nails. An empty keg, when the strong water has all been drawn, (which does not take long) is often appropriated to this purpose. In which case one of the heads is permitted to remain, as a matter of economy, while the other is overdrawn, as aforesaid, by a buck-skin, in the highest degree of tension. But the use, that is more commonly made of the drum among the Indians, is by no means so pleasant, as this account of its construction. It is even sad and melancholy in the highest degree.

And is not the white man’s use of the same instrument sad? _He_ employs it to challenge the fiercest passions, to rouse and provoke the spirit of man to deeds of blood, to drown the cries of the wounded and dying, to sustain and urge on the heaviest encounter of brute force.

Not so the Indian. He employs it to soothe and relieve the suffering, and to rescue the dying from the grave. He makes it a medicine of the soul, and of the body. When all the other powers of the healing art have failed, and the patient still declines, the Indian last resort is to the magic influence of the drum and dance. All the family and near relatives gather in a crowd around the suffering victim; the nearest relative, a mother, or father, a husband or wife, or the eldest child--more commonly a female, when it is convenient--as the tender sex are more susceptible of grief--begins to weep, and sob, and moan aloud, often howling, with expressions of heart-appealing anguish;--the drum sets up its melancholy beat to a dancing gig;--the entire circle parade and move round in solemn order, time-keeping to the summons;--the chief mourner sobs and howls;--and round they dance, muttering prayers hour after hour, and day after day, till they have drummed and danced and howled the wretched victim into the arms of death. In this extremity all other means, all other medicine, and the common sustenance of nature are perhaps scrupulously withholden. Every thing now depends on the miraculous influence of the charm. The relatives must have faith;--the patient must have faith;--all depends on faith. If the patient be an infant, the anxious and agonized mother will every now and then catch it up in her arms, and dance around the circle, weeping and sadly moaning. If the patient be an adult, and have sufficient strength, it is deemed of great importance, that he or she should rise, as often as they are able, and join the dance; and when strength fails, the patient is supported by the arms of relatives. When he is entirely exhausted, he is borne along the dance perfectly passive; and gradually as he languishes, the enthusiasm and anxiety rise to a higher pitch; the drum sounds with more earnest beat; the contagion of sobbing and moaning spreads and becomes universal; the circle is enlarged by an accession of friends and neighbours, who soon catch the sad spirit of the occasion; the noise and tumult aggravate to a storm; and as might be expected, the patient sinks and expires, under the overwhelming weight of this furious tempest of lugubrious passion. And this is called the _Medicine-dance_. Rarely, the strength of the patient’s constitution braves the assault, and he rises and lives notwithstanding. And these instances of recovery prove to a demonstration, in the philosophy of the Indians, the miraculous efficacy of the means.

But there is yet a use of the drum among the Indians, of a truly _martial_ character--and that is in the _War-dance_. Whenever a tribe has reasons for waging war, either in self-defence, or to avenge injuries, having deliberated and resolved upon the enterprise, in a grave and solemn public council, the occasion and ceremonies of enlisting and mustering their warriors, are of a character most fearfully interesting and barbarous. For the entertainment of the Commissioners and strangers, and other spectators of the Council, which had been engaged in its deliberations at Green Bay, and while the sittings of the Council were open, we had two specimens of the Indian _war_-dance, at the intervals of recess from public business:--one by the Winnebagoes, and the second by the rival efforts of the two tribes. As the night is the most appropriate and most awful, by the imposing character of its own natural solemnity; and as according best with the dark designs of savage vengeance; the exhibitions were made to begin at the approach of the evening shades, and obtained their height of interest, when all that is most grand and awful in midnight scenery overspread the heavens.

The Menomenies and Winnebagoes are two powerful and rival nations, among the tribes of the North-West, and extremely jealous of each other. The Convention necessarily brought their chiefs and warriors and common people into near and intimate contact. They very prudently and naturally, however, made the river a division line between them, in setting up their encampments:--the Menomenies occupying the north bank, and the Winnebagoes the south. But every day, by the constant passing and repassing of such a public and promiscuous assemblage, the people of the two tribes were brought side by side, and without interruption crossed each other’s tracks. The mutual animosities and jealousies, which a few years ago were manifested between the English and French; which barred the common courtesies of life in their relations to each other, and disposed them to construe the slightest inadvertence into an insult--were not unlike the state of feeling, which characterised the intercourse of the Winnebagoes and Menomenies. This uncomfortable temper was very much awakened into active energy by the precedence, which the Winnebagoes obtained in attracting the attention of the Commissioners and other visitors, in the way of affording them amusement;--partly, because the encampment of the Winnebagoes happened to be on the same side of the river with the public lodgings for strangers; and partly because the Winnebagoes themselves were strangers at the Bay, and were in many respects of their history and manners more remarkable. The Winnebagoes by themselves got up a war-dance for the amusement of the whites;--and the sport went off so well, that the Menomenies resolved they would not be outdone in a feat of this kind. Accordingly on the next day after the first exhibition, great preparations were observed to be making on both sides for a _rival_ war-dance. And the motives of emulation were so powerful, the excitement of national pride so great, there could be no doubt, that an acting off of this terrific scene was about to be displayed, in the highest style, and under the most striking and impressive representations.

The Winnebagoes are a proud, high-bearing race, exhibiting more of the native wildness and savage independence of the Indian character, than any nation around them;--looking down with perfect contempt on all other tribes, especially upon their neighbours, the Menomenies. While the Menomenies on the present occasion were by far the most numerous, and exhibiting themselves under the special excitement of the fresh return of a war-party from the Mississippi, who, in alliance with the Sioux, had that summer been waging war with the Saukes and Foxes, and brought into the camp of their tribe at Green Bay some scalps of their enemies, as the trophies of their recent victories.

One of the accompaniments of the war-dance is music--or what the Indians _call_ music--instrumental and vocal. And although Indians, when civilized and cultivated, are found to have the most melodious voices, of all human kind, and to be the most passionate lovers of harmony; yet in their savage condition, the character of their music is in perfect keeping with their hearts: wild, discordant, and harsh. I, however, noticed one instrument among them, the structure and tones of which are not unlike the flagelet, adapted to the softer passions, and designed no doubt for quiet, domestic scenes;--the music of which is equally plaintive and touching, as any thing I remember to have heard. As I saw it only in the hands of young men, I am disposed to believe, that it is appropriated by the lover to move and subdue the heart of the maid, the return of whose tender regard he desires and solicits. A nice observation, however, soon detects the total want of regular intervals in this instrument. It is better fitted for the melody of distinct notes, than for scientific performances. And this, doubtless, is quite sufficient for his purpose. A wild melody, in such a state of society, may be supposed more effectual, than scientific harmonies.

But the war-dance would seem to demand a kind of music, making the strongest appeals to the ruder passions of so rude a race. The most prominent instrument is the _drum_, the construction of which, out of an old cast-by-keg, or hollow trunk of a tree, I have already noticed. For the present occasion the Winnebagoes, as I had occasion to observe, took the keg, knocked out one of the heads, stopped the bung-hole, put a little water in the bottom, (the philosophical use of the water I am ignorant of) and stretched a wet-deer skin over the other end, attached to pegs rudely drove into the sides, and as rudely twisted by the rudest sticks;--the sticks making so many levers, the fulcrum of which was the attachment to the skin, and the power of tension resting in the forementioned pegs; under which one extremity of each was forcibly brought. I stood for a long time to witness the progress of the simple art, by which this instrument was constructed. And verily, to see half a dozen men, gravely and passionately employed in such a piece of work, and stretching their wits to make it perfect, showing all the simplicity of so many children of two and three years old, and equally absorbed, as such children in their simplest inventions--was humiliating and affecting. But to see those very men in a war-dance in the evening, was a far different spectacle. When the instrument, after so much pains, was supposed to be perfect, one drew his knife from its scabbard by his side, and from a knotty-green stick, which happened to lie under his hand, in two or three minutes, whittled out the only drum-stick, about eight inches long, which was necessary for the service; and then applying it to the drum, struck up the customary beat. Instantly every countenance of the anxious and expectant group lighted up with joy, and a sudden and clamorous shout of applause, mingled with the sounds of the drum, told most emphatically, that their whole heart was satisfied, and that the instrument was perfect. The sound of it is very like the common bass drum, and is constructed upon the same principles. It is the beating of this, which regulates in time all the movements of the dance. The quickness of the movement is perhaps somewhat more brisk, than that commonly displayed in the dancing assemblies of the whites. As for the gracefulness of the actors in the scene, I will say nothing. Their motions are so peculiar, that I must despair of describing them. It is rather a jump, than a trip. It is not like the light, and sprightly, and joyous dance of buoyant spirits, half the time ’twixt heaven and earth;--the feet are scarcely seen to rise above the ground--yet the body, by rising a little from a stooping posture, seems to perform a sort of leap; while both feet move almost simultaneously, pressing the earth again with such power of the superincumbent weight and muscular exertion of the whole frame, as to make the ground tremble at every step. A single Indian will make the ground vibrate--;a troop of them will produce an effect like the earthquake. It is the determination and tremendous character of their movements, which develope the passion of their souls.

The leader of the band of a war-dance is a stentorian vociferator, who seems to take his key-note, by rubbing a long notched wood pole, with another piece of wood;--that is, by this most unharmonious grating, not of sounding metals, but of _un_-sounding wood, he strikes up a most unharmonious effort of his lungs. Then by great muscular exertion of his whole system, inflating his lungs by a kind of convulsive gasp, he gives a token; and the band and dancers all begin--drumming, singing, shouting, yelling, dingling of metallic rods, and what not;--at one time all running together a sort of chant, in a low bass monotony; then suddenly passing a wide discreet interval, into a sharp falsette, or scream, which makes the Indian yell; or what is more commonly called the _war-whoop_. No one could believe, did not his eye and ear together certify him, that the two kinds of voice proceed from the same beings. The Indian war-whoop is a sharp, piercing falsette, as elevated as the sharpest scream of a woman in a fright, broken and trilled, or made tremulous, by the mechanical play of the finger on the lips. This _whoop_ is repeated by all the dancers every two, or three minutes, and seems to be a kind of letting off, or explosion of the highest possible degree of excitement. It is startling and frightful beyond description, breaking, as it does, unexpectedly from a multitude of voices. Even when one has heard it a thousand times in succession, and in the same dance, it always comes unexpected. The transition of voice is so sudden and violent, so characteristically diverse from the low and monotonous movement, which precedes and follows; so _unearthly_; so like the ideal conception of the sudden breaking loose of hell itself in triumph--that one involuntarily trembles with fear and shudders with horror.

And the other accompaniments of this scene: the naked savage, painted in the most horrible forms, with a crown of feathers bristling from his head; his eye and every feature mad with rage, and dark as hell; wielding and brandishing in his hand the weapons of death; his body in perpetual and simultaneous movement, with the music of the band and of his own voice, together “grating harsh thunder;”--himself at the same time inclined, half-bent, like a man oppressed by a heavy burden, darting with his naked and uplifted weapons in closest contact with a multitude of others, all accoutred like himself, and like himself performing the same wild and indescribable evolutions; sometimes like lightning, and then more circumspectly. A spectator of such a scene fears every moment, that in their apparent and wild intoxication, they will wound, or kill each other, by running against the naked weapons, to which they are exposed in their sudden turnings and violent leaps; and while absorbed in this anxiety, or some other feeling they have excited, they suddenly break into their horrid yell, resembling what one would imagine to be the laughing triumph of fiends, mingled with the screams of the agonized sufferers they have got in their power. Then again immediately resuming their low and monotonous chant, and the wild fierce dance, they work up their own passions, and the interest of spectators to the highest possible pitch, till, with a surprise as great as ever, their horrid yell bursts again upon the ear, and all for a moment is still as death. And so with the introduction of a thousand successive novelties of a like startling character, and often inspiring the beholder with absolute horror, they continue for hours, and for a whole night. And if such are the exhibitions of mere sport, what must they be, when the scene is enacted in earnest, and in preparation for actual war!

One part of the war-dance, which may properly be called _beating for recruits_, (and such indeed is its whole character and grand intention) is peculiarly significant and impressive. A small group, or band of _challengers_, as they might be termed, who are also the principal musicians for the occasion, take their seats, squatted in close contact on the margin of an open space, left vacant for the dance;--or for those who may successively obey the call of their tribe to arms. A rifle, tomahawk, or some other weapon of war, is laid upon the ground, in this open space, as a gauntlet, itself challenging the surrounding warriors to come and take it up; and the act of grasping and lifting this weapon, is the act of enlistment. All things being prepared, and the warriors in attendance, the group upon the ground, having received the token from the leader, standing by, strike up the war-song with their voice and instruments, the language and appeal of which is: ‘Do you see that weapon? Do you understand it, warriors?--Who will take it up?’--And the challengers grow more and more impassioned and violent, if there is any hesitation, until some warrior from the crowd, steps out into the vacant space, and begins to dance, time-keeping with the drum, with his eye fixed upon the gauntlet, but reluctant, refusing to take it up. The band aggravate their din and clamour, to urge him to the decisive action. Still he looks upon the weapon, dances round it, points to it with his finger, and performs innumerable and most extravagant feats of jumping and significant gesticulations; and still the challengers urge him on. He seems to be revolving the possible results of the war to himself, to his family and friends, and counts the cost in every shape;--and then imagines he hears the call of his nation to arms. He comes yet nearer to the weapon, and then springs back, as if frightened at the consequences of taking it up. The challengers rebuke him for his indecision. Again he approaches the weapon, and dances round it, and round it, extends his hand as if to take it up, and then starts back at some sudden and forbidding thought. Louder still, and still more earnest, the beating rolls; and the voices of the band and all their instruments grow more clamorous and deafening; every few moments raising the war-whoop. Like as the bird, spell-bound and charmed by a serpent, flutters and circles in the air, struggling in vain to escape, and drawing nearer and nearer to the object of her dread--at last makes a sudden and desperate plunge;--so he springs upon the weapon of death, grasps it firmly in his hand, and lifts himself erect. Then in an instant shouts of exultation rend the air, from all the assembled multitude--and his name and hand are now pledged. Next, with the weapon in hand, and still dancing to the music, he performs successively, and with all his characteristic cunning, the various feats of discovering, shooting, and scalping an enemy. This done, he replaces the weapon where he took it up, takes his seat with the challenging group, till the same round has added another to their number, and another;--and so they fill the ranks for war.

In the midst of these sports of the Winnebagoes, and while at the highest pitch of their interest; the scene of which was laid on the south bank of the river, and directly before the door of the inn, where the Commissioners and strangers lodged;--sports, which to us had already grown sufficiently grave, not to say frightful;--while the shades of the evening began to impart to them a character still more impressive, and no small crowd of white men and the natives were hanging over the exhibition, wrapped in the intensest interest;--in an instant, and with a suddenness as startling, as the explosion of heaven’s artillery, a tremendous _war-whoop_ rent the air from behind us;--and as soon as the thunder follows the flash which wakens it, a horde of savage warriors, in their most hideous forms, and all accoutred in their weapons of death, pounced into the midst of the throng, driving the Winnebagoes from their dancing arena, and occupied it themselves. Did ye ever see a flock of sheep scatter and fly before the sudden rush of a merciless crew of dogs upon them? That is the picture of the scampering of this gazing and motley throng. Even the Commissioners lost their dignity and self-possession, and were no less anxious to save their lives, than the meanest fellow in the crowd. All run--as well they might--for nothing could have been more astounding. As nobody, however, found himself tomahawked, in the first onset, a greater portion of the flying herd turned to look again, and see what this might be. Among the rest I turned;--and a strange and ominous spectacle presented. The Winnebagoes looked in sullen silence on these intruders, far outnumbering themselves, and presenting altogether a more hideous aspect; the intruders looked on them; and never did two armies of wild beasts, of diverse, but ferocious character, meet and look each other in the face, with more dubious intent.

_Four-legs_, the chief of the Winnebagoes, who had made a rare figure a day or two before, as an orator, in the Council; and who seemed on that occasion to be for peace, was destined to act a different part in the present juncture. With all the pride and dignity of the head man of his nation, he had stood wrapped in his blanket, looking with infinite satisfaction on the feats of his warriors, as they enlisted one after another, obeying the challenge, and taking up the gauntlet, to show the white man, how the Indians do such things. His squaw (wife) stood by his side, enjoying the scene. A long spear, or javelin, rested on the ground at his feet, running up under his folded arms, and lifting its burnished blade above his head; while one hand grasped the hilt of a broad-sword;--both of which weapons had been sent him by his great father from Washington;--and which he always carried, and was proud to show. It was not deemed consistent with his importance to join his warriors in the exercises of this occasion. He only presided, and smiled his approbation at their excellent doings. But when this outrageous insult was offered to himself and his tribe, his brow gathered darkness, he threw his blanket from his shoulders, and stepping before this ferocious band of intruders, with an aspect and determination, not to be mistaken, he delivered a short, but far different oration from that which he uttered before the Commissioners. I understood it to be, in substance, as follows:--

“Miscreants! I am chief of the Winnebagoes. If my warriors had done this deed, I would have pierced their hearts with this javelin, and cut them in pieces with this sword, and given their flesh to the dogs! Your tribe know the strength of this arm, and the courage of my warriors. Be gone!--and await the vengeance I shall give you!”

And as he pointed the way with his spear, the Menomenies sullenly retired, just without the circle, which had been occupied by the Winnebagoes, and commenced _their_ war-dance, in defiance of the threats of the Winnebago chief. The Menomenie warriors had been engaged in the same ceremonies on the opposite side of the river;--but not having being able to attract a satisfactory amount of attention, and perceiving that the Winnebagoes were getting all the praise, they had resolved upon the stratagem of crossing the stream below, under cover of the evening, and making this surprise; and a most effectual surprise indeed it was. Nor did it end here.

The war-dance of the Menomenies proceeded simultaneously with that of the Winnebagoes, so near, that one group almost interfered with the movements of the other. It was verily a rival exhibition of a grave and portentous character. As the Menomenies were more numerous, and had taken special pains in their preparations, they really made the greatest and most attractive show. The wrath of _Four-legs_ was kindled within him. He threw his javelin upon the ground, and stepped forth upon the arena, as was well understood, for this particular juncture. He fixed his eye upon his weapon; then looked round upon his warriors; then pointed to the Menomenies, who had dared to insult them; then displayed the symbols of his chieftainship about his person, and shook the fox-tails, which hung from his knees, by putting his right hand to one and his left to the other. And this done, to prove his importance, he commenced a wild and frantic dance with a muscular energy, which made the ground tremble beneath his feet; approached his javelin and retreated in the usual forms, and with many others peculiar to himself; keeping time with the beat of the drum, and animated by the clamorous appeals of his warriors, as they shouted and _whooped_. By and by, as his passions were wrought to the highest pitch, he plunged and seized the javelin with a mad and convulsive grasp, darted like lightning into the midst of the Menomenies, and instantly returned, leading two of their warrior chiefs captive, and presented them in triumph before his own. It was an unexpected and resistless feat, and big with portentous meaning. The Menomenies were compelled to one of two alternatives:--either to suffer it as an atonement for their insult, or quarrel on the instant. And for a few moments there was an awful pause;--and by the significant and angry murmurs, which passed between the parties, it seemed doubtful which way it would turn. The prisoners however, at last affected to take it in sport, submitted to a brief detention, and were then dismissed. I was told, that more trifling incidents than this have bred Indian wars.

Truly I and many others were glad, when this affair was over. It gave to the sports of the evening a most grave and serious aspect; and all expected a quarrel during the night. Till morning came again, the whole region rung with the most frightful savage yells;--yells, which, begun for amusement, threatened to end in blood. So untamed, fierce, and ungovernable are the passions of these wild children of the forest. But especially was it a perilous night, in consequence of the previous and generous distribution of strong drink, dealt out by those, who had instigated the exhibition. An Indian, mad with liquor and passion combined, is of all beings the most uncertain and dangerous. I do not for myself desire to witness the renewal of such a scene.

The amazing power of _pantomime_ was most wonderfully displayed in all these exhibitions of the war-dance. For all the interpretations here given, I am indebted alone to the intelligible and indubitable language of this art. To satisfy myself of their correctness, I made particular inquiry of those who understood the meaning of these customs.

The following poetic description of a war-dance may be pertinent here:--

“A hundred warriors now advance, All dress’d and painted for the dance, And sounding club and hollow skin A slow and measur’d time begin; With rigid limb and sliding foot, And murmurs low the time to suit; For ever varying with the sound, The circling band moves round and round. Now slowly rise the swelling notes, When every crest more lively floats; Now toss’d on high with gesture proud, Then lowly ’mid the circle bow’d; While clanging arms grow louder still, And ev’ry voice becomes more shrill, Till fierce and strong the clamour grows, And the wild _war-whoop_ bids it close. Then starts Skunktonga forth, whose band Came far from Huron’s storm-beat strand, And thus recounts his battle feats, While his dark club the measure beats.”

_Poem of Ontwa._

While writing these pages I have received the following account of a war dance among the Osages in the Arkansas Territory, west of the Mississippi, and some 1500 or 2000 miles distant from the scene already presented; communicated by a gentleman, who witnessed what he describes, and long known to me by reputation, though not personally. It is especially interesting, as it was an earnest preparation for actual war, and not an exhibition for amusement. The likeness will be sufficiently apparent, as having the common characteristics of the American war-dance; although the Osages and the North-West tribes are too distant, to be in habits of communication with each other. The letter is dated the 25th of July, 1832.

EXTRACT:

“In our late tour through the Osage villages, we fell on the Little Osage town, when it was all alive with a _war-dance_. The warriors, or braves, fitted out in their wild, fantastic style, were all assembled. As we approached, a runner met us, and asked of our interpreter our business, but did not offer us his hand. This was not owing to ill-will, but to custom. Their war-dances are their most sacred seasons. During the ceremony, they separate themselves from the touch of the vulgar and the profane. Being told our business, he run back and reported; and our approach seemed to cause neither derangement, nor suspension. We eagerly rode up to the scene of action; getting our horses as near as we could, although they were frightened by the music, the feathers, shields, and the star-spangled banner of the United States, fluttering in the wind.[15]

“The position in which we found these warriors, was that of a large ring, one circle standing, and another squatting, and all facing towards the centre of the circle. Well, what does this mean? What next? Sooner than thought could fancy an answer, one of the circle partly rises with his shield in one hand and tomahawk in the other, and dances towards the centre--first facing this, and then that way, holding his shield first on this, then on that side, and then occasionally making a brandish with his tomahawk--as though he were saying: ‘See, my comrades in arms--see how I will defend myself with this hand and this shield, while with _this_ I will level my foe.’ Having proceeded to the centre, he returned and squatted in his place. Another then performed a similar feat, and then another, till all had given a specimen, by way of anticipation and sample of their approaching conflict and expected victory. Meantime the hoarse hollow sounding criers, who appeared to be already exhausted by constantly overstraining their voices, in their zeal to make those hear, who stood only a very short distance--stood yelling, with their hands bracing their empty stomachs, and exciting the warriors to bloody deeds. One, perhaps, had lost a wife, another a child, or they represented those who had lost them, and now they were inspiring these pledged warriors to be courageous, and bring home a scalp, and so avenge their loss.

“There was much variety in the costume of these Indians. Some wore the skins of white wolves, a large species found at the west in their hunting excursions--which hang down behind, with the face, eyes, and nose of the animal shooting above the head of the wearer. Others wore ravens’ beaks, or eagles’ claws--and all exhibited from their persons some terrific emblem. One wore a snake’s skin, suspended from his neck, and reaching to the ground. I said to him: ‘What a serpent!’ He answered by snapping at me so sharply, as to startle me. This proved quite amusing to his comrades. All were entirely naked, except the usual flap, and their bodies were painted black--black as the sooty African. Of all the human beings I ever saw, none approached so near my idea of devils.

“Much of the ceremony consisted in a sort of dancing march round the streets of the village, between their lodges. Their dancing has nothing to do with the light trip of the foot. It is properly a pounding of the earth with both feet at once. As they passed us, it seemed as if a little _earthquake_ was passing by. The Osages, and I think all other Indians whom I have seen, in their dances, strike the earth with both feet simultaneously, jumping along with their bodies bent, their faces first turned this way and then that, first looking askance under one arm, and then turning a wild vacant look over the other shoulder: and all the while brandishing shields, tomahawks, &c.

“In their marching round the settlement, the warriors were followed by a band of musicians, some rattling the gourd shell, some drumming on a piece of deer skin, _stretched over the head of a keg_, and others singing their wild songs. Among the retinue I observed a great many youths, who appeared to be young disciples, catching the spirit of their seniors and fathers. Another group followed, who appeared to be mourners, crying for vengeance on their enemies, to reward them for the death of some relative.

“So busily employed were these warriors, that the ceremony ceased only for a small part of the night. Early the next morning, before it was yet day, we heard their music and singing, and their stamping up and down the streets. Our stay among them was about twenty-four hours. When we arrived we found them engaged in the ceremony, and when we left they had not finished. It is attended with extreme fasting--for their custom forbids them to eat before the sun sets. And I believe they often fast, eating only once a day, till the war is concluded, and they return home with their scalps victorious. They are not allowed moreover to eat with their families; they must sleep separately, must go naked, the flap excepted; offer many prayers, and as the climax of all, _sacrifice a dog_. In this last ceremony they were engaged, as we left the village,--for we saw two or three warriors most ceremoniously washing the parts of the victim at a stream, which we had to pass.”