PrairyErth

by William Least Heat-Moon

Their principal game and diversion appeared to be practicing with the bow and arrow, which were light and adapted to their strength and uses. The arrows were without the iron points used by the men. They showed great skill with the bow, as they would scarcely ever miss any target we could set up for them. And when they were left to themselves, they would select a mark in almost any locality within range of their bow, whether on the ground, on the body, or in the top of a tree. In case one lodged an arrow among the limbs of a tree, they would with extra arrows keep shooting at it until it was detached from its lodgment and fall to the ground. I saw them shoot a small woodpecker in a tall cottonwood tree after but a few shots, and when they had killed him, used him as a target by sticking the bill in the bark of a tree and practicing on him until he was used up.

  Edwin Bryant, journalist-traveler (1846):

  A Kansas Indian village was visible from our camp on the plain to the south, at a distance of two or three miles. As soon as the sun was sufficiently low in the afternoon, accompanied by Jacob, I visited this village. . . . While on the way we counted, for a certainty, on our arrival, to be received and entertained by the female elite of the Kansas aristocracy, clad in their smoke-colored skin costumes, and with their copper complexions rouged until they vied, in their fiery splendors, with the sun seen through a vapor of smoke. We carried some vermilion and beads along with us for presents to ornament the most unadorned, in accordance with the taste of the savages. But, alas! After all our toil through the rank and tangled grass, when we approached the village not a soul came out to welcome us. No Kansas belle or stern chief made her or his appearance at the doors of the wigwams. We entered the village and found it entirely deserted and desolate and most of the wigwams in a ruinous state.

  We passed through and examined four or five of them. The barkwalls on the inside were ornamented with numerous charcoal sketches representing horses, horses with men mounted upon them and engaged in combat with the bow and arrow, horses attached to wagons, and, in one instance, horses drawing a coach. Another group represented a plow drawn by oxen. There were various other figures of beasts and reptiles and some which I conjectured to be the Evil Spirit of the Indian mythology. But they were all done in a style so rude as to show no great progress in the fine arts. None of the cabins which we entered contained a solitary article of any kind. I returned to our camp, disappointed in my expectations of meeting the Indians at their village and saddened by the scene of desolation I had witnessed.

  Allen T. Ward, builder and missionary (1850):

  I accomplished the work I had to do, build a large substantial stone house with eight rooms and two halls or passages, besides two log houses, and dug a well. This improvement is on the Neosho at Council Grove on a tract of land lately ceded to the Kansas Indians [who] are a wild, uncivilized tribe generally peaceable with the whites but at present waging a bloody war with the Pawnees; they treated us well and, indeed, seemed glad to have white people live among them, thinking they will help to protect them from the Pawnees. The Kaws need a missionary among them or else a good threshing from Uncle Sam. They have become of late very mischievous. We had to keep a herdsman with our cattle and horses all the time at the Grove till the Indians started on a buffalo hunt; whether the government with the assistance of missionaries will be able to do much in civilizing this wild nation of people is a problem yet to be solved.

  The Reverend C. B. Boynton, member of a reformist religious commission (1855):

  The “Mission” is merely a school, the Kaws not consenting to have the Gospel preached among them. They send a few of their children irregularly to a school in which little or nothing is, or can be done. The name of “mission” does not very well describe the thing; and this, we think, is not the only “mission” in Kansas to which the same remark would apply. It would do no harm, if this whole subject of Indian “missions” were somewhat more closely investigated by the churches. Some unexpected disclosures might be made, perhaps, by such a scrutiny, and the matter would be stripped of much of the heroic and the romantic with which it has been so largely invested. Many dreams of Christian Indian nations just budding into life on the frontier would, probably, be put to flight by a journey even through Kansas.

  I had never before seen a community of real, absolute heathen, for such these Kaws are. . . . They are among the lowest and poorest of the Indian tribes—guilty of all the vices that Paul ascribes to heathenism in the first chapter of Romans—and if any new wickedness has been invented since Paul wrote, they doubtless have learned even that. In observing these miserable creatures, I was moved, sometimes to laughter and sometimes with pity, for their ignorance of all good and consequent wretchedness. In them, sin had wrought out, without much restraint, its legitimate consequences, and they afforded the most fearful evidence of its nature and its power. No such illustration of the character of man, as he is when left to himself, had fallen under my eye before, and it enabled me to estimate, as I had not previously done, what Christianity has already accomplished for the world, even where most of its influences are merely collateral. The difference between an encampment of these heathen Kaws and a Christian community, no mathematics could calculate.

  The scene was enough to stagger one’s belief in the unity of the race[s], and I must confess that my brotherly feelings required a little nursing, a little application of Christian philosophy as a stimulant; and I cannot declare with truth that I felt any of the movings and yearnings of that mysterious affection which, it is said, will attract kindred to each other although personally strangers. I must acknowledge that my heart did not gravitate very strongly toward my brothers and sisters of the Kaw branch of the family.

  There were children of perhaps six years old walking about the public street and mingling with others and exhibiting no more anxiety about clothing than the pigs they played with. From this lowest starting point of total nakedness, the styles of dress rose upward in a series, whose culminating point was a partial covering of the body.

  One thing was highly amusing and perhaps ought to be instructive. Whether naked or clothed, whether their pantaloons had two legs or only one, whether they had paint or mud on their faces, they demeaned themselves with a gravity which nothing could disturb, and their carriage was, in general, erect, dignified, and proud; sometimes even scornful. The only instances where I observed any relaxation of haughtiness were where one endeavored to persuade us to break open a closet in the house where we were staying, in order to get him some tobacco; and another undertook to sell me a coat and pantaloons, which he had probably stolen elsewhere—this last smiled, exhibited, and persuaded like an old clothes-man.

  The predominant feeling was pity for these poor creatures, ignorant, degraded, and almost friendless; apparently forsaken of God, and certainly despised and abused by man. They will soon be compelled by government to treat for their lands and retire before the white man.

  James R. McClure, census taker (1855):

  These Indians had evidently, after [seeing the law books in my cabin and] talking over the subject, concluded I was an educated doctor and possessed the power to minister to and relieve them of any disease. I knew all this from their conduct and the signs they made whenever they came to the cabin. I also realized the danger I ran in attempting to play medicine-man, but concluded to take the risk when old Reg-e-kosh-ee told me one of his wives (he had two), Ka-lu-wen-de, was very sick and that they had no medicine-man with them, and he had therefore called on me to cure her. With many misgivings, I requested him to bring his squaw to my house and I would diagnose her case and see what I could do for her. She was brought in with a number of other squaws. I carefully felt her pulse, examined her tongue, looked wise, took down several law books, turned [them] over, and pretended to master the cause of her trouble. During all this time the Indians watched intently every move I made and appeared to be satisfied with my professional skill and ability to cure. I then, after going alone in another place, prepared several doses consisting of flour, sugar, salt
, pepper, and other ingredients, wrapped them in small papers, breathed upon them, repeated in a slow and solemn voice several Latin phrases, and then directed the chief to administer one of the powders in the morning, another at noon, and one at sundown. I did this by putting the powder in my mouth, going through the motion of swallowing it, and pointing to the east where the sun rose, where it would be at noon, and then to the west where it set. The chief understood the directions as clearly as if I had directed him in his own language.

  I awaited the result of my prescription with a good deal of anxiety and apprehension, but fortunately the old squaw got well, and the whole credit of her cure was attributed to me, and my reputation as a medicine-man was fully established. I was called upon by several other Indians to doctor them, but I feared to extend my practice and experiment too often, for fear I would lose my reputation and incur their anger and resentment by having a dead Indian on my hands.

  John Montgomery, first resident Kaw agent at Council Grove (April, 1855):

  I think that it is absolutely necessary that . . . a survey of [the Kaws’]land be made immediately. As the settlers move in, difficulties increase. . . . The Indians, like many of the settlers, have no correct idea of reservation boundaries and are evidently claiming land that does not belong to them and have threatened to burn several cabins. I hope to receive instructions soon.

  John Montgomery (August, 1855):

  [The Kansa] have an annuity of ten thousand dollars which after being paid to them, is mostly laid out for provisions and whiskey, for the latter a considerable amount of this annuity is spent, and of which there is a full supply in the Territory; and they drink it where and whenever they can get it.

  They are situated on one of the great thoroughfares of the West (the Santa Fe Road), where they can carry to its full extent the practice in which they are engaged for several years past, id est, the practice of “stealing.” They avail themselves of every opportunity to steal not only from other people, but from each other. . . . I believe they have lost all confidence in each other; they subsist by hunting, stealing, begging. . . . The smallpox broke out amongst them and has continued fatally with the great number of them.

  They plant their corn without the plow, but leave the corn exposed and uncultivated to make itself, in consequence of the drouth killing all their corn this season, they will have to have a severe winter. During the dry weather they came to the conclusion that this was not the country designated for them by the Great Spirit and that the great Spirit had become dissatisfied with them.

  I am constrained to say that the Kansas are a poor, degraded, superstitious, thievish, indigent tribe of Indians; their tendency is downward, and, in my opinion, they must soon become extinct, and the sooner they arrive at this period the better it will be for the rest of mankind.

  William Phillips, newspaper correspondent (1856):

  It required no spirit of divination to foresee that, in opening the territory to a white population, the semi-barbarous occupancy of the finest lands by the Indians would inevitably terminate in some manner.

  Some few of the more intelligent and industrious Indians may be absorbed in the population of Kansas, but the great mass can neither use nor be used by civilization.

  General James W. Denver, territorial governor (1858):

  There is about to be a general foray made on [the] Indians’ lands. . . . If you don’t send a good man to the Kaws soon, every quarter section of land in that reservation will be occupied.

  Thomas Stanley, Quaker missionary (1858):

  Some of [the Kaws] did plant [corn] but as it is not fenced (and if they had wished to fence it I think the settlers would have objected), it is in danger of being destroyed by the settlers’ stock.

  Lewis Henry Morgan, anthropologist (1859):

  To my remonstrance against [the Kaws’] drinking and [my] attempt to show them that if they drank moderately they would enjoy it more, the chief asked me through the interpreter why the white men made it if it was bad for them to drink it. . . . I then told him he was not obliged to drink it because the white man made it. He replied that he should drink it as long as he lived. It was fearful to see the power of their appetites. A wine-glass full to each one in five minutes for two hours was about the allowance. I tasted a part of a glass and felt it immediately. They always took down the glass at a single swallow and poured it brimming full. It opened their hearts and tongues and I got with readiness and ease what at another time it would be hard to draw out of a Kaw Indian. They are a wild and untamed race.

  Samuel N. Wood, editor (1861):

  We have resided close by these delectable children of the prairies for, lo, these sixteen years, and during that time the government has furnished them, at two different periods, with oxen and all kinds of agricultural implements for tilling the soil . . . all of which have been sold for provisions and whiskey, and still the Indians are more fierce and fond of rapine and murder and the chase than ever.

  Hiram Farnsworth, Kaw agent (1861):

  The full-blood Indians have not a foot of land under cultivation on their reserve. They formerly raised corn and vegetables in considerable quantities; but, the whites having settled near them, their slight fences proved no bar to stock; their crops were destroyed, and the Indians in despair abandoned all attempts to provide for their wants by cultivating the soil.

  About fifteen acres have been cultivated outside the reserve—the land of benevolent persons interested in the improvement of the race. Their diligence in cultivating this gives promise of what they will do when they have fields of their own securely fenced. . . . Most of the Indians profess a strong desire to adopt the habits of the whites, but I am not over sanguine of great immediate results; they can be elevated by patient persevering labor only.

  A farmer, a religious teacher, and teacher for the youth, should immediately be provided. There is no instruction of any kind in the nation.

  The Kansas Indians are truly loyal to the government.

  Hiram Farnsworth (March, 1862):

  Whatever is done for the Indians will admit no delay. Unless they are put to farming this spring, they will be more miserably poor than ever.

  Hiram Farnsworth (September, 1862):

  The Kansas Indians have been provided with comfortable and substantial stone houses, which they now occupy. They have cultivated, for the first time in many years, considerable fields of corn, potatoes, and other vegetables. The new fields were broken so late that they have been of no use to them the present season. Their crops were not put in until after the middle of May, in consequence of farming implements not having been purchased until late, and then in such limited number that they were compelled to wait one for another. Had they had a sufficient number of oxen and ploughs, they would have cultivated much more land. Considering the proverbial reputation of these Indians for idleness, they have done much better than those best acquainted with them anticipated.

  The school buildings are not ready for occupancy. . . . During the fall and winter there was less intemperance than formerly, but for the last four or five months it has greatly increased. Whiskey is not furnished by traders, but, for the most part, from private houses. A few have been indicted for selling to the Indians, and some have stopped. The Indians are generally unwilling to testify against whiskey-sellers.

  Hiram Farnsworth (January, 1863):

  This seems to be a turning point in [Kaw] history, and there is a desire on the part of many in the tribe to improve their condition.

  Hiram Farnsworth (March, 1863):

  Unless you can furnish the money to purchase the corn and potatoes, [the Kaw] fields will be little avail to them.

  Istaleshe, Kaw chief, letter to the Indian commissioner (1863):

  My Father! I am very poor and I want you to help me. . . . I have a big debt to pay and want some money left after paying it. . . . Agent Montgomery stole two thousand dollars of our money. I want it. You owe us 300 cattle, 400 hogs, 400 chickens, 300 hoes, and 300 axes.<
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  Our great father told us we were the richest of all Indians; now we are poor.

  We have had 150 horses stolen by your white children, which by the Treaty of 1825 you ought to pay us for.

  My Great Father, white men tell us that you are going to drive us off to another place. We don’t want to go. . . . Your white children have killed seven of my children, but I have listened to you and done them no harm.

  Thomas H. Stanley, Quaker missionary (1866):

  Civilization is a very gradual work, and we should not become discouraged if the great work moves slowly on.

  Hiram Farnsworth (1866):