On rushed the fugitives, bending every energy to reach the water; but the breath of the Fire G.o.d was at their shoulders. Then the hardy little ponies made a final heroic dash and landed in the creek--safe, all but one. As the terrible cloud pa.s.sed swiftly over the half suffocated band, they saw the angry spirit in the great, dark, curling chariot, bend low and smite their comrade; and when the seething whirlwind had gone by, he lay, face down, a lifeless heap, upon the blackened cinders. A hasty burial, with few of the usual ceremonies, and the party was traversing the now desolate region, in the direction of the far-away mountains.

They entered what the white man calls the Great American Desert. A level country, the short-gra.s.s district, extended as far as the eye could see, on every side. Its monotony was broken by an occasional "draw," where wandering tribes often found refuge in defeat, or lay in ambush, ready to spring out at the approach of foes. These draws were caused by erosion, and may have been the beds of rivers, long since dried up.

The plains were dotted with wild flowers, for in Kansas each weed, at some season of the year, bursts forth in all the glory of rich or delicate blossoms. The fall had brought its wealth of gold and purple, and the buffalo gra.s.s, more nutritious when "cured" by the sun and hot winds of summer, had turned to a rich brown, the ruling note of color.

Birds, and even the prairie dogs, barking and chattering at the entrances to their underground towns, conformed to the prevailing tint.

The "Loco" weed had gone to seed, and the Indians, well knowing its dangerous properties, kept their horses, while grazing, away from the plant, which is said to cause animals to become "locoed," or insane. A similar effect is produced on human beings, by the use of certain herbs compounded by the medicine men.

Winding through the sandy territory, was the Arkansas River, in the autumn a seemingly harmless layer of reddish brown soil with apparently stagnant water here and there upon its surface. Underneath the quicksand flowed a deep stream, promising certain death to him who essayed to cross with any but the lightest of vehicles.

The travelers had reached the heart of the buffalo country, and an abundance of game was found on every hand. A buffalo hunt, according to an Indian's views, was second only to victorious battle, therefore Ni-co-man called a halt and the entire company joined in a grand slaughter.

The hunters, familiar with the habits of the animals, first arranged themselves in groups in one of the draws, at the foot of a steep embankment or precipice, taking care to be well sheltered. Then a warrior, grotesquely arrayed, and astride a strangely caparisoned steed, galloped toward the herd, frantically waving a bright-hued blanket. The leader, an immense creature, scented danger and took his stand in front of the rest. However, curiosity, which is one of the characteristics of the buffalo, prompted him to draw cautiously nearer the queer figure.

The herd followed. Gradually the decoy backed toward the precipice, still gesticulating violently.

At last, the animals, thoroughly frightened, stampeded, accelerating speed as they approached the embankment, over which they rolled and tumbled in the mad effort to escape. Those not injured in the fall, recovered their feet and dashed away to the opposite slope, being easily shot in attempting the toilsome ascent. Thus, the majority were at the mercy of the red men.

The wanton destruction of these beasts at the hands of both Indians and white men is to be deplored. Where, two score years ago, thousands roamed the plains, now nothing remains to prove their having existed save slight depressions in the earth called "wallows," and large numbers of horns, scattered over the ranches. Once in a while the buffalo ring may be seen, still barren of gra.s.s. Here the ever watchful sentinel had tramped around and around in a circle. A feast succeeded the favorable termination of the hunt. Only the finest portions of the meat, which resembles beef in flavor, were reserved as food. Tongues were considered a great delicacy.

Up to this time, a few straggling Comanches and Arapahoes were observed, but as yet no traces of the Sioux appeared. Ni-co-man, remembering his vision, still had faith that here, upon the plains, would the enemy be vanquished.

Early one morning a scout came in with the news that, far to the north, a stray band of Sioux had encamped the previous night. In a moment all was excitement. As soon as possible the entire cavalcade, well armed and ready for the fray, was galloping in the direction indicated. At sunset the Delawares halted for rest and food, waiting for darkness to make an attack. But the enemy, too, were watchful; and knowing the presence of danger almost by intuition, had prepared for encounters.

They were in a deep cut, not easily accessible. Where the natural defenses are limited, the natives learn to take advantage of every means of protection. Piling up large ma.s.ses of hard earth, that had fallen from one portion of the crumbling bank, they had built a rude fortification, which extended entirely across the entrance. In the rear was a narrow pa.s.s, with a steep acclivity on either side. Guards were stationed here and on the highest ridges. These gave the alarm as the Delawares, in three divisions, came silently forward at midnight.

Ni-co-man sent a detachment of good marksmen to the top of the embankment overlooking the Sioux, the second was despatched to the rear to force a way through the narrow pa.s.sage, while he boldly led the remainder to attempt the low earthworks at the entrance. The war-cry of the Lenape now filled the air.

The Sioux, crouching behind the fort and before the opening at the back of the camp, fought savagely. Occasionally marksmen on the elevation picked off one of their men, though it was a somewhat difficult task in the semi-darkness.

Ni-co-man, being taller than his companions, and always at the front, was a welcome target for his wild opponents. Again and again a shadowy figure intervened as the bullets sped toward him. He bore, in truth, a charmed life. As the moon pa.s.sed under a cloud, for the elements were preparing for a conflict, the Delawares rushed forward, climbing recklessly over the heaps of hardened earth, scattering great lumps right and left. Some of the braves fell, mortally wounded--some pressed upon the retreating Sioux, who found themselves in a trap. The shadowy figure, invisible to all but the chief, was ever present, hewing down the enemy with his great tomahawk.

The sun rose upon a frightful scene. The carnage was over, but ghastly upturned faces, smeared with war-paint and distorted with terror, even in death, told the tale of the night's work. Ere long it sought retirement, and the day grew dark. Ni-co-man gazed at the heavens in wonder. Did the Great Spirit manifest displeasure? A storm followed.

Lightning flashed and the ground seemed to shake with thunder. Rain fell in torrents, a most unusual occurrence in that locality.

When the atmosphere had cleared, and the drenched warriors again beheld the battle-field, lo! all blood was washed away. The Great Spirit had stamped with approval the triumph of his chosen people, the Lenape.

Lawrence, a town of more than ordinary historic interest, now the site of the Kansas State University, was built upon land that formerly belonged to the Kaws. At a more recent date the Delawares were established in that vicinity. Haskell Inst.i.tute, a flouris.h.i.+ng Indian school, is now located there. A majority of the nation, at the time of immigration, adhered to tribal costume, and while harmless as far as their white neighbors were concerned, presented a most ferocious appearance. Many of the early settlers of Lawrence were from Eastern cities, where the red man was known by reputation only. The Indians had a fear-inspiring way of peering into the windows of houses, and in order to obtain a better view, would spread out their blankets so as to exclude the light. Not infrequently a white family, while dining, would observe that the room had become unusually dark; and glancing toward the window from which the sunlight had vanished, would behold a hideously painted face, with piercing eyes looking through the gla.s.s, in keen interest. This was not at all contrary to Indian etiquette.

The wife of a resident who had the good fortune to secure the firm friends.h.i.+p of White Turkey, a Delaware chief, sat sewing one day, in her rocking chair. It was a tranquil morning in early summer and the air was still. Suddenly a shadow crossed the light, and to her intense fright, three huge Delawares, in all the horror of their picturesque native dress, loomed up before the window. The lady, who had recently arrived from New York City, fainted; and the disappointed visitors sought her husband, informing him that they had merely called to announce the birth of a son--the future chief--named "Solomon White Turkey" in honor of the pale-face family. Years later, the gentleman, while traveling through the Indian Territory, was approached by an aged Delaware, surrounded by his friends, and introduced to a tall, prepossessing young man, who proved to be Chief Solomon White Turkey.

Kansas had been supposed to be permanently secured to the Indians; but the emigrant ever followed in their footsteps, and again the land of the Delawares was sold to the United States, and the people, few in number, took up their abode in the Indian Territory.

VI.

THE WYANDOTS.

The Wyandots, or Hurons, are of Northern origin, and descended from a branch of the Iroquois. At the time of the discovery of America, their villages were located near the Senecas, on the banks of the St. Lawrence River. When Cartier appeared, a small band of Delawares first observed the s.h.i.+ps of the Frenchmen on the gulf, and sent messengers to announce the presence of "great white-winged animals, spitting out fire and speaking with voices of thunder."

The Wyandots and Senecas were closely allied and lived in amity many years. It is said that the long peace terminated and hostilities began through the influence of a woman. One version of the story is that a Seneca maiden loved a young man, whose father, a powerful chief, opposed his son's taking her as a wife. Other suitors were rejected. Then it was declared that the hand of the maiden would be bestowed upon him, only, who should slay the chief. A Wyandot fulfilled this condition and became her husband.

The enraged Senecas flew to arms. An interminable war followed. Their neighbors moved to the vicinity of Niagara Falls. A series of migrations succeeded. At one epoch a portion of the tribe settled near Lake Huron, which was named for them. A part of the Bear Clan always remained in Canada.

For some unknown reason, the other tribes of the Five Nations joined the enemies of the Wyandots. Cooper's novels contain numerous allusions to the undying hatred of the Iroquois toward the Hurons, as they were called by the French, although Wyandot is the proper term.

Always pursued by the Senecas, a majority of the nation became wanderers. In 1701, seeking a new home, they embarked in canoes and pa.s.sed out of Lake Huron, and into and beyond Lake St. Clair. In the distance a group of white tents was visible. This comprised the city of Detroit. Landing, by order of the head chief, the Indians were received kindly by the governor of the colony. Accepting the protection offered, they found a home in that locality.

After the French territory had pa.s.sed into the hands of the English, some of the Wyandots settled in parts of Ohio and Michigan. They were divided into clans, named for animals, conspicuous among which were the deer, bear, turtle, porcupine, snake and wolf. The nation originally had twelve of these divisions. Two or more formed a band. It was against the law to marry in one's own clan. Children belonged to the mother's clan; and women were accorded the privilege of voting for chiefs and council.

The head chief, or king, was the highest officer. The succession belonged to the Big Turtle and Deer clans; and every heir to the throne must be of pure Wyandot blood. The last head chief, Suts-taw-ra-tse, lived in the latter part of the eighteenth century.

The primitive religion of the Wyandots was somewhat similar to that of other aboriginal nations. The Great Spirit ruled supreme. There was a G.o.d of the Forest, called Sken-ri-a-taun. Once a year a night feast was held, in memory of the departed. Dancing was dispensed with, but all joined in condolence with some lately bereaved family. It was thought that after death, the soul must cross a deep, swift river, on a bridge made of a slight tree, and be compelled to defend itself, repeatedly, from the attacks of a dog. The Dakotas also believed this, but affirmed that the bridge was formed from the body of an immense snake. The prayer of the Huron to a local G.o.d--as recited verbatum by Father Brebeuf--throws some light upon the subject of their conception of Deity.

"Oki, thou who livest in this spot, I offer thee tobacco. Help us, save us from s.h.i.+pwreck, defend us from our enemies, give us a good trade and bring us back safe and sound to our villages."

The teachings of the Jesuits were early engrafted upon the original faith.

Few of the oldest Wyandot legends have been preserved. The literary world is indebted to Schoolcraft for the narration of the experience of Sayadio, which gives a glimpse into the spirit world as pictured by Indian fancy.

The heart of Sayadio was heavy with sorrow. His young and beautiful sister had died and he refused to be comforted. Desirous of bringing her back, the young man embarked upon a long and difficult journey to the land of souls. When ready to give up in despair, after many adventures, he met an old man who gave him a magic calabash with which to dip up the spirit, when it should be found. This man, who proved to be the keeper of that part of the land where the maiden dwelt, also gave him her brains, which had been carefully kept.

On reaching the place of departed souls, Sayadio was surprised that they fled at his approach. Tarenyawgo a.s.sisted him. The spirits had a.s.sembled for a dance and he attempted to embrace his sister, but she straightway vanished with the others. Tarenyawgo then provided him with a mystical rattle to call them back. The _taiwaiegun_, or drum, sounded, and the notes of the flute could be heard. Immediately the air was full of floating figures, and Sayadio, dipping up the damsel with the magic calabash, despite the efforts of the imprisoned soul to liberate itself, returned to earth.

Friends were invited to the lodge, and the dead body brought from its place of burial to be restored to life. Just before the moment of reanimation, a curious old woman looked into the calabash, and the spirit took flight. Sayadio gazed heavenward but could see nothing.

Then, with downcast eyes, he sat in the lodge, deploring that idle curiosity had rendered of no avail his travels to the land of the departed.

Peter Clarke, a native writer, was undoubtedly one of the most reliable sources of information regarding the ancient history of the Wyandots, whose descendants, absorbed by the white race, have permitted the customs and many of the traditions of their forefathers to die out.

Until a comparatively recent period many firmly believed

THE LEGEND OF THE WHITE PANTHER.

On the sh.o.r.e of Lake Huron, long years ago, was a deep pool, or spring, in the midst of marshy ground. An outlet into a river allowed the discharge of surplus water. Reeds and tall gra.s.ses almost obscured the pond from view, and the scream of the loon and the cry of the reed-bird alone disclosed its presence, until the traveler found himself upon its very verge.

The Wyandots knew of this place, and had little doubt that it was inhabited by a mysterious spirit. Sometimes the water rose and fell, as if stirred by the breathing of an immense animal beneath its surface, then grew suddenly calm. A benighted hunter, pa.s.sing that way, told of a wondrous light, sparkling like the glow of a thousand fireflies; and of a rumbling sound that shook the earth, announcing that an evil spirit was at work.

A party of the Prairie Turtle Clan camped one day at the spring, established an altar and offered burnt offerings to the strange G.o.d.

Articles of value, silver ornaments and wampum belts, were cast into the pool and Ce-zhaw-yen-hau was chosen to call up the spirit. Standing in the marsh, with a bow in one hand and a bunch of arrows in the other, he chanted a song; while his companions, in homage to the _Hoo-kee_, or wizard of the spring, burned tobacco. He invoked the spirit to come forth. A loon arose, screaming and flapping its wings.

"Not you," said Ce-zhaw-yen-hau, and the loon vanished. Next came an otter.

"Not you," said the Indian, "begone! Come forth, you wizard!"

The water rose, as if agitated by some huge body, and a white panther emerged, looking eastward. Piercing its side with an arrow, the conjurer quickly extended a small vessel to catch the blood which trickled from the creature's side. The moment the pan filled, the wounded animal disappeared, and the air vibrated with a rumbling, muttering sound, like distant thunder. Volumes of turbid water came to the surface, indicating the course the monster had taken in pa.s.sing down the river. Never again was it seen at the pool.

The Prairie Turtle Clan, which had always been considered refractory in disposition, and inclined to be rebellious toward the Good Spirit, now formed a society and deified the white panther. Anyone who divulged the secrets of the a.s.sociation was instantly put to death. The blood in the small vessel coagulated and became dry. This was broken into pieces and distributed among the members to be placed in their medicine bags. The medicine bag was usually made from the whole skin of an otter, a mink, or other diminutive animal. Those who had been led by fanaticism to seek new G.o.ds were repeatedly warned by the Catholic priest to renounce the evil spirit, or it would cause their destruction.