Chapter XII: Part 12

When the opposing player thinks he has detected in which hand the other has concealed the stick, he indicates it with a peculiar jerk of his thumb and index finger in that direction, with a loud _Tsoq_! (Comanche for "That!"); if he has guessed correctly, he scores a certain number of points, the account being kept by means of a bundle of green-painted tally sticks. He then takes the _k`íäbo_ and begins a similar set of movements in time to another song, in which his partners join; so the game goes on far into the night, until the contest is decided and the stakes won by one side or the other. It is a most animated and interesting game, of which they are very fond, and frequently at night in the winter camp the song chorus may be heard from several games in progress simultaneously, the high-pitched voices of the women in one tipi making a pleasing contrast to the deeper tones of the men in another.

The Anko calendar notes the building of a medicine tipi by Dátekâñ, for the purpose of bringing back the buffalo (see summer 1882). The tipi is shown below the winter mark.

SUMMER 1882

This summer Dohásän, whose hereditary duty it was to supply the buffalo for the sun dance, failed to find even one, and in consequence there was no dance. For this summer the Anko calendar notes the death of Pätso`gáte, "Looking-alike," a daughter of Stumbling-bear, noted for her beauty. In accordance with the tribal custom in regard to speaking of the dead, Anko for a long time refused to mention her name. The incident is indicated by the figure of a woman where the medicine pole is usually pictured.

The Set-t'an calendar notes the excitement caused by the efforts of Dátekâñ, or Pa-tepte, to bring back the buffalo, also noted by Anko in the preceding winter season. The figure represents the medicine-man seated in his sacred lodge, wearing his ceremonial red blanket trimmed with eagle feathers, and with a buffalo beside him.

The buffalo had now disappeared, and with it the old Indian life, the sacred sun dance, and all else that they most cherished threatened also to pass away. According to Kiowa mythology, the buffalo originally lived in a cave underground, from which they had been released by their great hero _Sinti_ and scattered over the prairies for the benefit of his children, the Indians. Somewhat similar beliefs are entertained by other tribes. As the buffalo had disappeared with the coming of the white man, who, by reason of his superior knowledge, was rapidly dispossessing the Indian, the native tribes almost universally believed, not that the buffalo had been exterminated--a calamity too terrible for their comprehension--but that it had been shut up again underground by their enemy, the white man, in order more easily to accomplish their subjection. It was believed that by prayer and sacred ceremonial the buffalo might again be released to furnish food and life for the Indian, and in every tribe there sprang up medicine-men who undertook to effect the restoration.

Among the Kiowa this task was adventured by a young man named Dátekâñ, "Keeps-his-name-always," who announced early in 1882 that he had had a vision in which he received a mission to bring back the buffalo. Accordingly, he began to make medicine and assumed the name of Pá-tépté, "Buffalo-bull-coming-out," in token of his new powers. He was already noted in other directions as a medicine-man, and had been the winner in the great _dó-á_ contest mentioned in the calendar of the preceding winter. It is possible that his success on that occasion encouraged him to this attempt, as he began his buffalo medicine immediately afterward. He erected a medicine tipi, in front of which he set up a pole with a buffalo skin upon it, and prepared for himself a medicine shirt ornamented with blue beads, over which he threw a red blanket trimmed with eagle feathers. Thus attired, and carrying a sacred pipe in his hand, he began his mystic ceremonies within the tipi, and from time to time announced the results to the people, most of whom believed all he said and manifested their faith by gifts of blankets, money, and other property; they were further commanded to obey him implicitly, on pain of failure of the medicine in case of disobedience. His pretensions were opposed by the younger men among the returned prisoners from the east, who used all their influence against him, but with little effect. After nearly a year of medicine-making, being unsuccessful, he announced that some one had violated some of the innumerable regulations, and that in consequence his medicine was broken for the time and they must wait five years longer, when he would begin again. Before that time had elapsed, however, he died, but his claims and prophecies were revived and amplified five years later by Pá-iñgya (see summer 1888).

WINTER 1882-83

For this winter the Set-t'an calendar records the death of a woman named Bot-édalte, "Big-stomach," indicated by the figure of a woman with an abnormal abdomen above the winter mark.

The Anko calendar notes that the Indian police camped this winter on _Dónä´i P'a_, "Pecan creek" (Elk creek of North fork of Red river), indicated, as in 1877-78, by the figure of a pecan nut below the winter mark. The Texas cattle trail crossed at that point and the police were stationed there to keep the cattle off the reservation. Quanah, chief of the Comanche, was there also in the interest of the cattlemen, and it was through his persuasion that the allied tribes finally agreed to lease their grass lands.

Anko notes also that the Indians now "began to talk about grass leases," but that as yet there was no grass money paid. It is indicated on the calendar by three circles for dollars below the winter mark, with a +, intended for a picture of the Indian gesture sign for "cut off" or "stop," made by bringing the extended right hand downward in front of the other, as if cutting a rope with a knife-stroke.

On this subject the agent says, under date of August 17, 1883:

The grass question seems to be the most difficult thing I have to
contend with. I find it impossible to keep trespassing cattle
entirely off the reservation, and we are now crowded on all sides.
It seems to do very little good to put them off, for it is found
that cattle that have just been driven off will come back on the
reservation as soon as the police force advances. Our Indians are
not disposed to rent the grass, yet if it is used it seems they
should be paid for it.... The grass should be utilized in some way
that will benefit the Indians, and if it is not possible to supply
them with herds sufficient to consume it, it does seem as if the
grass should be rented and the Indians receive the money for it
(_Report, 103_).

The final result was the establishment of the system of grass leases.

SUMMER 1883

_´dalk`atói K`ádó_, "Nez Percé sun dance," so called on account of a visit from the Nez Percés, called by the Kiowa the "people with hair cut off across the forehead." The figure above the medicine pole on the Anko calendar is intended to represent a man in the act of cutting off his front hair. The Set-t'an calendar has beside the medicine lodge the figure of a man wearing the peculiar striped blanket of the Nez Percés. This sun dance is sometimes known as _Máp'ódal K`ádó_, "Split-nose sun dance," because held on the Washita on pasture lands inclosed by a cattle man known to the Indians by that name.

On account of difficulties with the whites, the Nez Percés of Chief Joseph's band had left their homes in eastern Oregon in the summer of 1877, and after a retreat of a thousand miles were intercepted in Montana by General Miles, when within a few miles of the British border, and compelled to surrender. They were brought as prisoners to Fort Leavenworth, and thence removed, in July, 1878, to a reservation assigned to them in Indian Territory. The climate and surroundings proving entirely unsuited to them, they were returned to reservations in Washington and Idaho in 1885, their numbers in the meantime having been reduced from about four hundred and fifty to three hundred and one, about one-third of their whole number having died. It was while domiciled in Indian Territory that they visited the Kiowa and other tribes, dancing with the Kiowa and Apache at the head of _Sémät P'a_, "Apache creek" (upper Cache creek), and attending the Kiowa sun dance, which was held on the north side of the Washita, about ten miles above Rainy-mountain creek, near where now is Cloud Chief. This was the first time the Kiowa had ever seen the Nez Percés, although they had a dim traditional memory of them in their old northern home.

In the spring of this year the keeper of the _taíme_ medicine, Set-dayá-ite, "Many-bears," died, and the image was taken by Taímete, "_Taíme_-man," who continued to hold it until his death in 1894.

WINTER 1883-84

For this winter the Set-t'an calendar has the picture of a house with smoking chimney beside a tipi. It appears to be a canvas house, such, as those Indians in a transition state sometimes use. Set-t'an explains it to mean that Big-tree was given a stove by the government and put it into a large tipi which he occupied; but Scott's informant, who is corroborated by Anko and others, explains it as meaning that Gákinãăte, "Ten," the brother of Lone-wolf, built a house this fall on the south side of the Washita, about opposite Cobb creek. Stumbling-bear says that he himself had received a stove as far back as 1875, two years before the government built his house.

The Anko calendar records the taking of a large number of children to the Chilocco Indian school, near Arkansas City, Kansas. The heavy drafts made during the term to furnish children for Chilocco and other schools very considerably reduced the number of pupils in attendance at the reservation schools; according to the agent's statement, seventy were thus taken at one time (_Report, 103_). The figure below the winter mark is intended to represent two wagons filled with children.

Anko notes also that a party of Dakota came down to dance with the Kiowa, indicated by the feather dance-wand at the side of the winter mark.

SUMMER 1884

There was no sun dance this summer, and the Set-t'an calendar has only the figure of a tree to indicate summer, with a figure below intended to represent an inclosed field, implying that the owner stayed at home. Concerning this the agent says, under date of August 28:

The Kiowas have danced less this year than usual, and they seem to
have given up their annual medicine dance, for as yet they have
said nothing about it. The holding of this dance has always been a
great occasion and considered one of their most important
ceremonies, for they have believed it absolutely necessary to
secure their health and success in all their undertakings, either
at war or in the chase. They have generally gone out on the plains
from 40 to 60 miles from the agency and been absent from five to
six weeks. On several occasions since the buffalo disappeared, they
have suffered very much with hunger while out, and I hope we have
heard the last of the dance (_Report, 104_).

The calendar of Anko for this summer notes the hauling of government freight by the Kiowa, including himself, indicated by a figure of a wagon where the medicine pole would otherwise be. This was in agreement with a plan inaugurated several years before, by which those Indians who had suitable teams and wagons--the latter furnished by the government--were permitted to haul supplies for the agency and were paid for their labor as an inducement to get them to adopt the white man's industries. As there was no railroad near at that time, most of the freight had to be hauled overland from Caldwell, Kansas, a distance of 150 miles. For such labor during this year the Indians received nearly $8,000, and performed the work cheerfully and in a satisfactory manner (_Report, 105_).

WINTER 1884-85

The Set-t'an calendar has a house above the winter mark, which is interpreted to mean that the Kiowa camped all winter on the Washita near Set-k`opte's house, just above the agency. This was the fact, but another informant suggests that the original intention was to record the event that the Kiowa about this time began to build houses for themselves. On this subject the agent says at this time:

These Indans retain much of their roving disposition, and except
during the cropping season do not camp long in one place, but do
not go far from their fields. Few of the Kiowas, Comanches, and
Apaches have houses, and most of them live in tents. This will
probably be the last of their savage customs to be abandoned
(_Report, 106_).

In 1886 it is officially stated that only nine Kiowa families were living in houses, all the rest being in tipis (_Report, 107_).

The Anko calendar records the stealing of another man's wife by Tón-ak`á, "Notched-tail," i. e. "Water-turtle," a noted medicine-man, for which the woman was whipped and a number of Tón-ak`á's horses were killed by the injured husband. The turtle below the winter mark indicates the event.

SUMMER 1885

_Píhó K`ádó Sän_, "Little Peninsula sun dance," so called because it was held in a peninsula formed by a bend of the Washita about twenty miles above the agency; the same place where another dance, the _Píhó K`ádó_, had been held in 1839. The figure on the Set-t'an calendar shows the medicine lodge within the bend (see summer 1839). The figure on the Anko calendar is intended to represent the medicine pole with the buffalo head fastened below the forks.

On this occasion Dohásän had to go to the Staked plain to find a buffalo for the purpose. This dance was the first held by Taímete, the successor of Set-dayá-ite. On this point the agent has to say:

I mentioned in my last report the fact that the annual medicine
dance of the Kiowa would not be held that year, and I expressed the
hope that they had abandoned it; but their old medicine man has
since died, and his successor, unfortunately a young man of little
ability or character, ordered that another be held this year. The
Comanche have no such ceremonial as an annual dance, and the other
tribes of the reservation have no medicine dance, but the Caddoes
frequently meet together and dance for enjoyment, as white people
do (_Report, 108_).

The Anko calendar notes that the Comanche received their first grass money this summer, shown by the circles for dollars below the medicine pole, but with nothing to indicate the tribe. The Kiowa did not make leases until a year later. For some reason, perhaps on account of a change of agents which occurred about this time, there is no notice of this payment in the official report.

WINTER 1885-86

For this winter both calendars record a prairie fire which destroyed all the tipis and much of the other property of T'ébodal's and Â'dal-pepte's camps, northwest of Mount Scott, while most of the tribe had gone to the agency for rations. The Set-t'an calendar indicates the event by means of the picture of a tipi, streaked with red for the fire, above the winter mark. The Anko calendar has below the winter mark a peculiar symbol, which he explains to mean the rising flames.

SUMMER 1886

There was no dance this summer, owing to the failure to find a buffalo for the purpose, consequently everybody remained at home--indicated on the Set-t'an calendar by the figure of a leafy tree, for summer, above an inclosure, intended to represent a field.

As there was no dance, the Anko calendar for this summer lacks the medicine pole, while by means of a star and several circles he records the fact that he enlisted in the agency police force, and also that there was another payment of grass money by the cattlemen, this time to the Kiowa, being the first they had received.

WINTER 1886-87

For this winter both calendars note the suicide of Peyi, "Son-of-the-sand," nephew of the great chief Sun-boy. Having taken a horse without the owner's permission, he was reproved for it, which so hurt his feelings that, saying, "I have no father, mother, or brother, and no one cares for me," he went out and shot himself with a revolver. Indians are very sensitive to reproof or ridicule, and suicides among them from this cause are more frequent than is generally supposed.

The Set-t'an calendar has above the winter mark the figure of a man holding a pistol, and with a wound in his side, the blood gushing from his mouth. The Anko calendar has a pistol below the winter mark. Two circles (dollars) above the winter mark have evidently been placed there inadvertently.

SUMMER 1887

_K`adóliä P'a K`ádó_, "Oak creek sun dance." According to the Set-t'an calendar, there was no sun dance this summer and everybody remained at home--indicated as before by the figure of a leafy tree above a square inclosure. This, however, is a mistake. The agent states that "the Kiowas held this year a sun dance with my permission, but with a distinct understanding that it should be the last, and (it) was not of a barbarous nature" (_Report, 109_). The dance was held near the mouth of _K adóliä P'a_, "Oak creek," a small southern tributary of the Washita above Rainy-mountain creek, and takes its name from the stream on which it was held. As the wild buffalo had now been exterminated, the animal for this occasion was bought from a ranchman named Charles Goodnight, who had a small herd of domesticated buffalo in northern Texas.

The Anko calendar has several circles, for dollars, below the medicine pole, to indicate another payment of grass money, of which again there is no official record.

The name of the creek on which the dance was held was originally _Do`gótä P'a_, "Oak creek," but in consequence of the death of a woman named _Do`gótä_ about 1891, the name was tabooed according to tribal custom, and the stream is now known as _K adóliä P'a_, from an old word which conveys the same idea.

WINTER 1887-88

This winter the Indians received a large number of cattle from the stockmen in part payment for their grass leases; the remainder was paid in money. These were the first cattle received from that source. A number of the Indians refused to accept them and insisted on money, while quite a large number refused to have any part in the leases, believing it to be a plot to deprive them of their lands. The event is indicated on both calendars by the figure of a cow's head in connection with the winter mark.

SUMMER 1888

By a mistake Set-t'an depicts a medicine lodge for this summer instead of for the one preceding. No sun dance was held this year, owing to the opposition of the new agent. In his official report he states that early in May the chiefs and head men of the Kiowa had called to request permission for the holding of the dance at the regular season, but that on investigation he became convinced that it should not be allowed and so informed the Department, which instructed him to prevent it, even by calling on the military if necessary. He says:

On receipt of this information I at once communicated the fact to
the Indians, but could not get them to promise to abandon it. I
informed them that on the slightest intimation that any preparation
was being made for the celebration of the dance I would be
compelled to call on the military and cause the arrest of every
Indian who expressed a determination to participate in the same.
Many of the young men, belonging to the worst element, privately
declared their intention of holding the dance, but as yet nothing
has been done in that direction. I am firmly of the opinion I will
be able to prevent it without the aid of the troops (_Report,
110_).

The Anko calendar records for this summer the preaching of the prophet Pá-iñgya. It is indicated by a figure intended to represent a flying bullet, referring to his claim of invulnerability.

Pá-iñgya, "In-the-middle," had commenced preaching during the previous winter, reviving the doctrine of the return of the buffalo, which had been taught by Pa-tepte several years before (see summer 1882). He continued to preach and make medicine for several months, adding to his predecessor's prophecies another of the invulnerability of his followers and the speedy destruction of the whites, so that for a while the excitement assumed a dangerous form. In the official report for 1887 the agent briefly notes that--

The Kiowas were troublesome in the early spring, owing to the bad
advice of their medicine-men and chief Lone-wolf, and refused to
plant their seed and took their children from school. Later on they
went to work, but would have made a much better showing in their
crops had they planted earlier (_Report, 111_).

According to Pá-iñgya's pretensions, he was the legitimate successor of Pa-tepte, with all of his predecessor's powers and considerably more of his own. He predicted the near approach of a mighty whirlwind, which would blow away the whites and all Indians living among them or following their customs. After the whirlwind would come a great prairie fire, which would burn for four days and consume the agency buildings, schools, and all that the white man had established in the country, together with any whites left by the whirlwind. Having thus cleared the way, he would then restore the buffalo and game, with all the old Indian life. His followers were commanded to resume at once their aboriginal dress and weapons, with all the old habits. He made a sacred new fire with the block and stick, according to the primitive Indian method, and gave the fire thus made to all his disciples to be used instead of that procured from matches or flint and steel; he refused to give any of this sacred fire to those chiefs and others who were regarded as being on the white man's side, including Stumbling-bear and Sun-boy. He established his headquarters on upper Elk creek, near Lone-wolf's camp, in the western part of the reservation, to which he commanded all the faithful to repair in order to escape the destruction which was to come upon the whites and their renegade supporters, and appointed ten assistant priests, to whom he delegated a share of his powers and duties. To quiet any fear of interference by the authorities, he claimed to have a medicine which would render his followers invulnerable, while he himself was not only invulnerable but could kill soldiers or other enemies by his mere glance, as by a lightning stroke, as far as he could see them.

His preaching roused great excitement among the Kiowa, nearly all of whom--excepting those of Stumbling-bear's and Sun-boy's bands--abandoned their homes and repaired to the appointed place on Elk creek, the parents taking their children from the schools in order that they might not be involved in the general conflagration and destruction. In the summer the prophet's son died, and he promised to raise him from the dead in the fall, but when the time came his medicine unaccountably failed.

The unrest among the Indians, for which no apparent cause could be assigned, greatly alarmed the whites, who feared that the Indians meditated an outbreak. As a precaution, the agent, Captain Hall, summoned a detachment of troops, and taking with him a small escort, went to the neighborhood of the prophet's camp and sent Stumbling-bear and Sun-boy to him to bring him and some of the prominent chiefs in order to discuss the matter. The result was that the Kiowa agreed to go home and await developments. As the time fixed for the fulfillment of the prophecy came and passed without event, they became convinced that they had been deceived and the excitement died out. In the meantime Pá-iñgya, who had before been poor and obscure, had become rich by the horses and blankets which he had received from the faithful; there were even those who were so uncharitable as to say that it was for this he had been working. Nothing was done to punish the prophet, who still lives, and when the news of the messiah came a few years later, he claimed it as the fulfillment of his prophecy. He has more recently assisted to revive the ghost dance at his home on the Washita.

WINTER 1888-89

The Set-t'an calendar records that the Kiowa were encamped during this winter on the Washita, near the house of Ä´tä lä´te, "Feather-headdress", indicated by the figure of a tipi near a house above the winter mark.

The Anko calendar notes the death of the chief Paí-tälyí, "Sun-boy," shown by the figure of a man in a coffin, with a circle for the sun upon his breast. He died at Eoñte's camp, northwest of Mount Scott. Anko records also the fact that he split rails for himself this winter, shown by the figure of an ax immediately below the winter mark.

SUMMER 1889

This summer there was no sun dance and everybody remained at home on his farm, the fact being indicated as before on the Set-t'an calendar by means of the figure of a leafy tree above a square inclosure intended to represent a field.

Anko records a receipt of grass money, indicated by several circles intended for dollars where the medicine pole is usually shown; also the death of a son of Stumbling-bear, indicated by the figure of a man wearing an eagle feather in his hair.

WINTER 1889-90

For this winter the Set-t'an calendar has only the figure of a tipi above the winter mark, to show that the Kiowa spent the season in their winter camp on the Washita.

The Anko calendar notes another grass payment, indicated by the circles representing dollars, and also a visit by the Kiowa to the Comanche to perform the _Íâm_, dance, indicated by the feathered dance-staff below the winter mark.

The name of this dance, _Íâm Guan_, is derived from i, "child or offspring," and _âm_, the root of the verb "to make," for the reason that one of its main features is the formal adoption, by the visiting dancers, of a child of the other tribe. The performance and dress somewhat resemble those of the Omaha dance, but only two men dance, while the rest sit around as spectators. There is an exchange of horses by the visited tribe for presents placed on the ground by the visitors, and at the end of the ceremony the boy adopted is formally restored to his people. This dance is found also among the Wichita and Pawnee and perhaps other tribes.

SUMMER 1890

_Ä´poto Etódă-de K`ádó_, "Sun dance when the forked poles were left standing." This summer the Kiowa were preparing to hold the sun dance, when it was stopped by agent Adams, backed by military force. It has not been held since in the tribe. Both calendars tell the same story in the figure of the medicine pole standing outside the completed medicine lodge and decorations. Set-t'an has also the square inclosure to indicate that he remained at home, while Anko, by means of a row of circles, notes the occurrence of another grass payment.

The Kiowa had decided to celebrate their usual annual sun dance at the _Piho_ or bend in the Washita, where they had already held it twice before, when the agent determined to prevent it. They were not disposed to yield, and had assembled in their great tribal circle of tipis, with the center pole of the medicine lodge already erected, having an old buffalo robe in lieu of a buffalo head and skin at the top, when word came that the troops were on their way to stop the dance, having been sent from Fort Sill for that purpose by request of the agent. The news was brought to Stumbling-bear, who had remained at home on account of the death of his son, by Quanah, chief of the Comanche, who advised him to send word to the Kiowa to stop, as the soldiers would kill them and their horses if they persisted. Stumbling-bear thereupon sent two young men to the sun dance camp to tell the Kiowa to disperse and go home, which, after considerable heated discussion, they finally did, leaving the unfinished medicine lodge standing. In the meantime the troops had arrived at the agency, but the Indians having gone home, they returned to their post.

Concerning this affair the agent says in his annual report:

There has been nothing of special note during the year, with the
exception of the excitement raised in connection with the proposed
sun dance. That matter having been fully laid before the
department, it is hardly necessary to say more (_Report, 113_).

On the same subject the report of the Secretary of War says:

The commanding officer at Fort Sill reported July 19 that the
Indian agent had notified him of the intention of the Indians to
hold a medicine dance, and had asked for troops to prevent them
from doing this. He was directed to be guided by instructions of
last year on the subject, and consequently three troops of cavalry
proceeded to Anadarko, Indian Territory, on July 20,... but the
Indians having abandoned the plan of holding their dance upon the
arrival of the troops, the latter, after remaining at the point for
a few days, were withdrawn (_War, 7_).

WINTER 1890-91

_Pá-ä´ngya Tsän-de Sai_, "Winter that Sitting-bull came." This refers to the first coming among the Kiowa of Sitting-bull, the Arapaho prophet of the ghost dance, in the fall of 1890. The human figure above the winter mark is intended for Sitting-bull. The first Kiowa ghost dance was held on this occasion on the Washita at the mouth of Rainy-mountain creek, and was attended by nearly the whole tribe. Even the progressive chief Stumbling-bear attended and encouraged the dance, in the hope and faith, as he says, that by so doing his youth would be renewed. About the same time the Kiowa sent Ä´piatañ, "Wooden-lance," to visit the northern tribes and the messiah himself for the purpose of investigating the truth of the reports. The event is recorded on the Anko calendar by means of the figure of a man wearing a head feather and a shell breastplate, as Ä´piatañ did when he started on his journey. He returned in February, 1891.

As the whole subject of the ghost dance has been exhaustively treated by the author in his report on "The ghost-dance religion" in the Fourteenth Annual Report, it is unnecessary to give here more than the reference by the agent in his report for 1891:

_Ghost dance._--This has been a disturbing occurrence throughout
most of the year. This form of dancing has been indulged in mostly
by the tribes north of the river. The Kiowas sent some of their
number to the north to investigate the matter. Ah-pe-ah-tone, the
leader in this journey, returned in the early spring and brought
such a report with him as thoroughly convinced the Kiowas of the
falsity of the so-called messiah. They have danced little or none
since his return. The Wichitas and Caddos have clung to the
superstition and danced until spring. They were led to greater
excess by the visit of Sitting-bull, the Arapaho prophet from the
north, who is becoming rich in stock through the gifts of his
followers. He has been absent in the north, but has now returned to
the Cheyenne and Arapaho agency and will probably repeat his
performances of last year. Our Wichitas have already commenced to
dance again and the Comanches seem to be feeling the craze, and
unless decided measures are taken, we will probably have a
repetition of last year's scenes (_Report, 113_).

For the same winter, but above instead of below the winter mark, the Anko calendar records the death of three schoolboys, indicated by the picture of a boy in civilized dress holding a book. Their names were _Sétä_, "Small-cow-intestines;" _Ká-ikonhódal_, "Dragonfly," and _Mótsä-tsé_, from the Spanish _muchacho_, "boy," his mother being a Mexican captive. They were attending the government Kiowa school, and one of them had been whipped by a teacher, in consequence of which the little fellow, with the two others, ran away from school and attempted to reach their homes, some 30 miles out in the mountains. The same night a terrible blizzard came on, and after they had struggled painfully along nearly the entire distance they sank in the snow, exhausted by fatigue, cold, and hunger, and all were found a few days later lying together, frozen stiff, on the bleak slope of a mountain, by a search party of Indians. This occurrence nearly precipitated an outbreak, and for a time it was thought that troops would be necessary to quell the disturbance, but through the judicious management of Captain H. L. Scott, who was sent from Fort Sill to investigate and report on the situation, the Indians were quieted without resort to force.

In his official report, Captain Scott says:

It was learned that three Kiowa boys had run away from the Kiowa
school on the 9th [of January, 1891], on account of a whipping the
eldest one had received from one of the teachers, Mr Wherrit. They
had been overtaken by a snowstorm, the most severe this country has
seen for years, and had been frozen to death. The body of the
eldest, "Sailor" [from Setä?], about 14 years old, had been found,
and they were still searching for the other two. They had been
trying to reach the Kiowa camp on Stinking creek. The talk about
the threatening attitude of the Kiowas being inquired into, it was
resolved into this, that some of the school children had said that
"Mother Goodeye," a one-eyed Kiowa woman, related to one of the
dead children, had said that if she caught Mr Wherrit she would
stick a knife into him. This, coupled with the fact that the woman
afterwards denied having said it, would not seem to demand the
presence of two troops of cavalry. It was said that Mr Wherrit had
hid himself the day before, and had fled the agency during the
night to escape the coming wrath (_From report of Captain H. L.
Scott to Post Adjutant, January 18, 1891; copy in Indian Office,
5070--1891_).

On the same subject the agent says:

The loss of the three boys who ran away from the Kiowa school and
were frozen to death in the snow, was an occurrence which might
have been productive of most serious results. It speaks well for
the Kiowa Indians that it not only was passed without such
consequences, but seems to have left no prejudice against the
school. It has been most gratifying to me on several occasions
during the year to note the growing spirit of self-control among
these people, and their desire to stand by lawful authority
(_Report, 114_).

SUMMER, 1891

There was no sun dance, and consequently, instead of the medicine lodge, the Set-t'an calendar has the square inclosure to show that he stayed at home.

The event of the summer was the killing of P'ódalä´ñte (abbreviated _P'olä´ñte_], "Coming-snake," in Greer county, Oklahoma. He was shot by a young white man in self-defense, as it was claimed, while endeavoring to recover a horse which he said had been stolen from him; he had sent a boy after the animal, but the holders had refused to give it up except to the owner. P'ódalä´ñte himself then went after it and a dispute followed, resulting in his death. It is said he was shot as he was loosening his gun from its scabbard at the saddle. The Kiowa claim not to know the particulars, as no other Indian was with him at the time, but say that he was notoriously quarrelsome and rough in his manner. The shooting occurred opposite the mouth of Elk creek. It is indicated on the Set-t'an calendar by means of a human figure, with blood flowing from a wound in the side, standing above the square inclosure, with a snake behind it to show the name. Anko records it for the following winter, q.v.

The Anko calendar records for this summer a visit made by the Kiowa to the Cheyenne, indicated in the usual place for the medicine lodge by the figure of a tipi (i. e., camp), connected with which is a line with several cross marks, intended as a pictorial presentment of the tribal sign for "Cheyenne," made by drawing the right index finger several times across the left.

WINTER 1891-92

The Anko calendar records here the killing of P'ódalä´ñte, as just described for the preceding summer, the discrepancy arising perhaps from the fact that it occurred after the middle of summer. It is indicated below the winter mark by means of the figure of a man, with a bullet wound in his side, lying in a coffin or grave, and with a snake above the winter mark to show his name.

The Set-t'an calendar records the enlistment of the Indian troop at Fort Sill in the spring and summer of 1891. It was composed chiefly of Kiowa, and was organized as troop L of the Seventh cavalry, under command of Lieutenant (now Captain) H. L. Scott. It is indicated by the figure of a soldier above the winter mark.

SUMMER 1892

The event of this summer was the measles epidemic. The Set-t'an calendar indicates it by means of a human figure covered with red spots, and beside it the leafy tree and square inclosure to show that it occurred in the summer, when there was no dance and everybody remained at home. The Anko calendar has a similar red-spotted figure.

The epidemic broke out early in spring and continued through the summer; it began in the Kiowa school, and its terribly fatal consequences were due largely to the course pursued by the superintendent, who insisted on sending the sick children back to the camp, where it was impossible for them to receive necessary attention, instead of caring for them in the school. The result was that the infection spread throughout the Kiowa and Apache tribes, and as the Indians, in their ignorance, endeavored to _wash out the blotches_ by drenching the children in cold water, nearly every case was fatal. Watching and anxiety brought fevers and other sickness to the parents, so that there was not a family in the two tribes that did not suffer the loss of a near relative. The feeling already existing among the Kiowa against the superintendent, on account of the death of the schoolboys the year before, was now so intensified that he was obliged to leave the country.

When the author returned to the Kiowa in the early summer of that year, the epidemic had nearly spent its force, although deaths were still occurring every day or two. The condition of the Indians was pitiable in the extreme; nearly every woman in the tribe had her hair cut off close to her head and her face and arms deeply gashed by knives, in token of mourning, while some had even chopped off a finger as a sign of grief at the loss of a favorite child. The men also had their hair cut off at the shoulders and had discarded their usual ornaments and finery. On one occasion, while driving near the camp, the author's attention was attracted by a low wail, and on looking for the cause he saw, sitting in the tall grass near the roadside, a bereaved father stripped to the breech-cloth, with his hair cropped close to the head and the blood dripping from gashes which covered his naked body; he did not look up or turn his head as the wagon passed, but continued the low wail, with his eyes cast to the ground. Wagons, harness, tipis, blankets, and other property were burned, and horses and dogs shot over the graves of their owners, to accompany them to the world of shades, the destruction of property in this way amounting to thousands of dollars. Every night and morning the women went into the hills to wail for their lost ones, and returned to camp with the blood dripping from fresh gashes in their faces and arms; this continued for weeks and months, far into the fall.

The responsibility for this terrible calamity rests upon the school superintendent, who sent the infected children into camp, and upon the agent who permitted it. The superintendent of the Comanche school, so soon as the disease appeared on the reservation, suspended teaching, turned the school into a temporary hospital, with the teachers as nurses, and stationed a guard of police to keep the parent from interfering with or withdrawing the children. The result was that not one died in his school and only one was affected. The census of the Kiowa and Apache tribes for this year shows a decrease from the preceding year of two hundred and twenty-one, or 15 per cent, among the two tribes, due almost entirely to this epidemic. The agent reports, after noting the mortality:

The above deaths occurred chiefly among the infants and young
children, and can be attributed to the fact that in most every case
they invariably immersed their sick in the water, thereby causing
death in every case thus treated (_Report, 115_).

Dr J. D. Glennan, attending surgeon to the Indian troop at Fort Sill, had already distinguished himself at Wounded Knee two years before by his bravery and coolness in attending to the needs of the wounded and dying while bullets were flying thick around him. Now, when the epidemic broke out among the Kiowa, he gave his services with the same quiet devotion to duty, with such good result that, although for months the hospital camp was crowded with stricken Indians, whose relatives outside were dying all over the reservation, only six of those under his care died, and these not from the prevailing epidemic, but from a complication of diseases. In recognition of his services the Kiowa soldiers afterward raised a sum of money with which to purchase a horse for him, but as the doctor already had a horse, the testimonial took the form of a valuable piece of silver.

The Anko calendar has also a row of circles, representing dollars, to indicate a large payment of grass money by the cattlemen this summer. As by this time the Indians had learned that the leasing of their surplus grass lands was very much to their advantage, they held a council in February, 1892, to select delegates to go to Washington for the purpose of negotiating leases for the whole reservation; also to secure some back payments due from previous leases. Quanah, Lone-wolf, and Whiteman were chosen on behalf of the Comanche, Kiowa, and Apache, respectively, and proceeded to Washington, where they received the desired permission, under which authority leases were negotiated producing for the three tribes an average income of about $100,000. On their return they received through a special agent nearly $70,000 due under the new and old leases. This large payment gave occasion for general rejoicing and marked an era in their history. A large part of the money was invested in lumber for building permanent houses; so that in this way, and with the additional help of a small appropriation for the hire of carpenters, the agent reports about sixty houses built within the year, and says:

With the assistance of the Indian Office as to the pay of
carpenters, together with the revenues from their grass leases, I
see no reason why in the near future the tepee should not be
banished and comfortable houses he substituted in their stead
(_Report, 116_).

* * * * *

Here end the yearly calendars. The subsequent events, including the unratified treaty negotiations and the present condition of the tribes, will be found noted in the preliminary tribal sketch.

KIOWA CHRONOLOGY

TERMS EMPLOYED

Now--_íñhogo_ (_íñhoti_=this).

Then (past)--_óhyo_ (same as _there_).

Second, minute, hour--unknown.

Day (from sunrise to sunset)--_kíădă_, abbreviated _kíă_.

A day (of twenty-four hours, i. e., one day and one night)--_pägo kiă´_ (="one day").

Dawn--_kíăt'ä´_ (literally, "first light," _t'ä; t'ä_ seems to be connected with _t'aiñ_, white; _gyäpá-iñgya_).

Sunrise--_paí-báda_, literally, "the sun has come up."

Morning--_kíädä´_, literally, fall day; cf. Day and Dawn; _gyäpá-iñgya_; very early in the morning--_gíñaga_ (cf. Night); late morning, shortly before noon--_kyähíñ kíäsá_.

This morning--_íñhoti gyäpá-iñgya_.

Noon--_kíäsá_.

Afternoon (early, until about 3 oclock)--_dekíäsa_.

Afternoon (late)--_déhíñ_.

Evening--_dám-kóñkya_ (literally, first darkness); _dekómdóle_ (_-gya_, from an archaic root referring to slight darkness).

Night--_gíñde; gíñăgya_; one night, _pägo gi_.

Midnight--_gíñ-kopá-iñgya_; after midnight--_gíñă-tógya_ (_togya_, after or past).

Tonight--_íñhoti gi_.

Today--_íñhoti kiă_.

Yesterday--_kíädédal_.

Tomorrow--_kyähíñgă_.

Day after tomorrow--_añgádal kíăgyă kyähíñ_ (literally, a day--_kíăgyă_; beyond or more--_añgádal_; tomorrow--_kyähíñ_); abbreviated, _añgádal kyähíñ_.

Day before yesterday--_tópde kíädédal_, literally, before yesterday; day next before, understood.

Journey--estimated by "darks," _koñ_, i. e., nights, instead of by "sleeps." Thus, if one asks how far away is a certain distant place, he is told that it is _pä´go koñ, yía koñ_, one dark, two darks, etc., i. e., that to reach it he must be one night, two nights, etc., on the road. They understand now how to measure short distances by the mile, _on_, literally, "a measure."

Week--The Kiowa did not originally group the days into weeks, but have now learned to make such a period, counting by Sundays or by the biweekly ration issue. Thus Sunday is _Dakíădă_, literally, "medicine day," i. e., "sacred day." One week is _pä´go Dakíădă_; two weeks, _yía Dakíădă_, etc. Next week--_ki-gía Dakíădă_, literally, after Sunday; also, _koñtä´kia_, literally, middle of (issue) nights.

One issue--_pä´go kóñakán_, literally, one end or series (_akán_) of darks or nights. The regular ration issue is made every two weeks, on Friday, and as this is the great gathering time of the Indians, when they meet their friends and talk over matters of mutual interest, it has become a red-letter day and a starting point, like our Sunday.

Month or moon--_p'a_. The same word means river or stream, while _pa_, without the aspirate, signifies a buffalo bull.

Year--The years are counted hy winters; one year, _pägo sai_, literally, one winter or cold season, from _saí-gia_, or _sai_, winter; plural, _säta_.

Days of the week (modern)--Sunday, _Dakíădă_; Monday, _Dakía kyähíñ_; Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, have no names, but are counted as two, three, four, or five days after Sunday; Saturday, _Dakía-sän_ literally, little Sunday.

Christmas (modern)--_Píä-kíădă_, "eating day," or "feast day."

Fourth of July (modern)--_Tsolaí_ (i. e., July, which they take to be the name of the day); _Tsä´nkia kíădă_, "race day," because on that occasion races are held by the Indians at the agency and at Fort Sill.

THE SEASONS

The Kiowa distinguished only four seasons, unlike some of the agricultural tribes of the east, who distinguished five, separating the autumn season into _early_, when the leaves change color, and _late_, when the leaves fall, but assigning entirely different names to each. The Kiowa begin the year with the beginning of winter as fixed by the first snowfall. This seems to have been the case also with the Pawnee and perhaps with other prairie tribes. To an agricultural people the renewal of vegetation would seem a more natural starting point.

The first season is called _Saígya_ or _Säta_, abbreviated _Saí_, which is considered to begin on the first fall of snow. In western Oklahoma this is generally about the first or middle of December, although on one occasion, about ten years ago, this occurred as early as October. Cold weather and frost may come, but it is not called _Saígya_ until snow falls.

Next comes _Áségya_, spring. This is an archaic term which cannot be analyzed. It is sometimes called by the more modern name of _Són-páta_, "grass springing." It is considered to begin when the grass and buds sprout and the mares foal (about first of March), and is known to be near at hand when the breasts of the eagles begin to turn white and when the panther whelps are born. The old men say that one half of the month _Ka`gúăt P'a Sän_ belongs to _Saí-gya_ and the other half to _Áségya_.

The third season is _Paígya_ or _Paíta_, abbreviated _Pai_, summer. The name seems to have a connection with the word for sun, _pai_. It begins after the grass has ceased sprouting (_sónpáta_) and is considered to continue until fires are needed in the tipis at night, i. e., from about June to September. During this season the fires are made outside the tipis, or, rather, outside the leafy arbors under which the people sit and sleep during the hot weather.

Next comes the fourth and last season, _Paóngya_ or autumn. The term is archaic and seems to refer to the thickening of the fur (_pa_) of the buffalo and other animals as the cold weather approaches. It is sometimes called _Aídeñ-gyägúădal-ómgyä-i_, the time "when the leaves are red." The season is supposed to begin when the leaves change color and fires become comfortable in the tipis at night, that is, about the first of September.

In addition to these recognized divisions the summers or warm weather periods, as distinguished from the winters, were usually counted by _k`ádós_ or sun dances, which were commonly held once a year, the time being fixed by the whitening of the down on the cottonwoods, about the beginning of June.

The following table is a good approximation of the manner in which the Kiowa divide the year, beginning about October 1:

SAÍGYA: WINTER

Gákiñăt'o P'a, _last half_. Ä`gâ´nti. Tépgañ P'a. Gañhíña P'a. Ka`gúăt P'a Sän, _first half_.

ÁSÉGYA: SPRING

Ka`gúăt P'a Sän, _last half_. Ka`gúăt P'a. Aideñ P'a. Pai Ä`gâ´nti, _first half_.

PAÍGYA: SUMMER

Pai Ä`gâ´nti, _last half_. Pai Tépgañ P'a. Pai Gañhíña P'a. T'águñótal P'a Sän. T'águñótal P'a, _first half_.

PAÓNGYA: AUTUMN

T'águñótal P'a, _last half_. Gákiñăt'o P'a, _first half_.

Autumn seems to be less definitely noted than the other seasons.

KIOWA MOONS OR MONTHS

While the Kiowa note the changes of the moon and have a fixed name for each moon or lunar month, it is not to be supposed that their system could have the exactness of the calendar systems of the more cultivated nations of the south, or perhaps even of the sedentary tribes of the east, whose interests so largely depended upon noting carefully the growth and ripening of crops, the appearance of the various species of fish in the streams, etc. Nevertheless, they have a system, imperfect though it be, and it can not be said of them, as Matthews says of some northern tribes, that "they have no formal names for the lunar periods." In this, as in other matters of tribal lore, they defer to the superior knowledge of certain old men who assume the position of experts on the subject.

The Kiowa recognize twelve or more moons or months, beginning the year, according to one authority, with the first cold weather, about the end of October, or according to other authority, with the first snowfall, about a month or more later. They have seven distinct moon or month names, and some of these are duplicated and distinguished as _great_, _small_, or of _summer_, to make the full number for the year. These moons of course do not coincide closely with our calendar months, and as the system is necessarily imperfect, there is a discrepancy of authorities, some recognizing twelve moons while a few count as many as fourteen or fifteen, the additional names being a further duplication of some of the others, as already explained; all authorities agree on the first eight as here given, and all but one agree on the ninth, after which there is a discrepancy. The author has made no arbitrary attempt to harmonize conflicting statements, as the result would be artificial and not aboriginal; and we must expect a certain amount of uncertainty and disagreement on such a complicated subject, among primitive people. Our own calendar system has been of slow growth, and more than one hundred million Europeans still refuse to accept it. The list here given is that obtained from Anko, the best calendar authority in the tribe, and is that generally accepted by the Kiowa. By means of tally dates from his picture calendar their periods can be pretty closely assigned, although, as will be noticed, even he varies a month in some instances in the course of three years. Some of the old men put another moon, _Pai Ka`gúăt P'a Sän_ (see number 5), between _Pai Gáñhíña P'a_ and _T'águñ´ótal P'a Sän_.