Toward a Kaw Hornbook

Hi-e-ye-ye! Summon them, those who knew the people in time gone, and call them to speak the story, to give testimony.

 

Perrin du Lac, French traveler (1802):

 

The Kanses are tall, handsome, vigorous, and brave. They are active and good hunters, and trade is carried on with them by the whites without danger.

 

George Sibley, government surveyor (1811):

 

The Konsee town is seated immediately on the north bank of the Konsee River, about one hundred miles by its course above its junction with the Missouri, in a beautiful prairie of moderate extent, which is nearly encircled by the river. . . . [The settlement] is overhung by a chain of high prairie hills which give a very pleasing effect to the whole scene. The town contains 128 houses or lodges generally about sixty feet long and twenty-five wide, constructed of stout poles or saplings, arranged in the form of an arbour, and covered with skins, bark, and mats; they are commodious and quite comfortable. . . . The town is built without much regard to order; there are no regular streets or avenues; the lodges are erected pretty compactly together in crooked rows, allowing barely space sufficient to pass between them. The avenues between the rows are kept in tolerable decent order, and the village is on the whole rather neat and cleanly than otherwise.

 

Thomas Say, Major Long’s expedition scientist {1819):

 

The ground area of each [Konza] lodge is circular, and is excavated to the depth of from one to three feet, and the general form of the exterior may be denominated hemispheric.

The lodge, in which we reside, is larger than any other in the town, and being that of the grand chief, it serves as a council house for the nation. The roof is supported by two series of pillars, or rough vertical posts, forked at the top for the reception of the transverse connecting pieces of each series. . . . Across [rafter poles] are laid long and slender sticks or twigs, attached parallel to each other by means of bark cord; these are covered by mats made of long grass, or reeds, or with the bark of trees; the whole is then covered completely over with earth, which, near the ground, is banked up to the eaves. A hole is permitted to remain in the middle of the roof to give exit to the smoke. Around the walls of the interior, a continuous series of mats are suspended; these are of neat workmanship, composed of soft reed, united by bark cord in straight or undulated lmes, between which, lines of black paint sometimes occur. The bedsteads are elevated to the height of a common seat from the ground, and are about six feet wide; they extend in an uninterrupted line around three-fourths of the circumference of the apartment, and are formed in the simplest manner of numerous sticks, or slender pieces of wood resting at their ends on cross pieces, which are supported by short, notched or forked posts driven into the ground; bison skins supply them with a comfortable bedding. Several medicine or mystic bags are carefully attached to the mats of the wall; these are cylindrical and neatly bound up; several reeds are usually placed upon them, and a human scalp serves for their fringe and tassels. Of their contents we know nothing.

The fireplace is a simple shallow cavity, in the centre of the apartment, with an upright and a projecting arm for the support of the culinary apparatus. The latter is very simple in kind, and limited in quantity, consisting of a brass kettle, an iron pot, and wooden bowls and spoons; each person, male as well as female, carries a large knife in the girdle of the breech cloth behind, which is used at their meals, and sometimes for self-defence. During our stay with these Indians, they ate four or five times each day, invariably supplying us with the best pieces, or choice parts, before they attempted to taste the food themselves.

They commonly placed before us a sort of soup, composed of maize of the present season, of that description which, having undergone a certain preparation, is appropriately named sweet corn, boiled in water, and enriched with a few slices of bison meat, grease, and some beans, and to suit it to our palates, it was generally seasoned with rock salt, which is procured near the Arkansa river.

This mixture constituted an agreeable food; it was served up to us in large wooden bowls, which were placed on bison robes or mats, onthe ground; as many of us as could conveniently eat from one bowl sat round it, each in as easy a position as he could contrive, and in common we partook of its contents by means of large spoons made of bison horn. We were sometimes supplied with uncooked dried meat of the bison, also a very agreeable food, and to our taste and reminiscence, far preferable to the flesh of the domestic ox. Another very acceptable dish was called leyed [lyed] corn; this is maize of the preceding season shelled from the cob, and first boiled for a short time in a ley of wood ashes until the hard skin, which invests the grains, is separated from them; the whole is then poured into a basket, which is repeatedly dipped into clean water until the ley and skins are removed; the remainder is then boiled in water until so soft as to be edible. They also make much use of maize roasted on the cob, of boiled pumpkins, of muskmelons, and watermelons, but the latter are generally pulled from the vine before they are completely ripe.

 

After the death of the husband the widow scarifies herself, rubs her person with clay, and becomes negligent of her dress until the expiration of a year, when the eldest brother of the deceased takes her to wife without any ceremony, considers her children as his own, and takes her and them to his house; if the deceased left no brother, she marries whom she pleases. They have, in some instances, four or five wives, but these are mostly sisters; if they marry into two families, the wives do not harmonize well together, and give the husband much inquietude; there is, however, no restriction in this respect, except in the prudence of the husband. The grandfather and grandmother are very fond of their grandchildren, but these have very little respect for them. The female children respect and obey their parents; but the males are very disobedient, and the more obstinate they are and the less readily they comply with the commands of their parents, the more the latter seem to be pleased, saying, “He will be a brave man, a great warrior: he will not be controlled.”

 

They bear sickness and pain with great fortitude, seldom uttering complaint; bystanders sympathize with them, and try every means to relieve them. Insanity is unknown; the blind are taken care of by their friends and the nation generally, and are well dressed and fed. Drunkenness is rare, and is much ridiculed; a drunken man is said to be bereft of his reason, and is much avoided. As to the origin of the nation, their belief is, that the Master of life formed a man, and placed him on the earth; he was solitary and cried to the Master of life for a companion, who sent him down a woman; from the union of these two proceeded a son and daughter, who were married, and built themselves a lodge distinct from that of their parents; all the nations proceeded from them, excepting the whites, whose origin they pretend not to know.

 

Thinking the deceased has far to travel, they bury with his body, mockasins, some articles of food, etc. to support him on the journey. Many persons, they believe, have become reanimated, who had been during their apparent death, in strange villages; but as the inhabitants used them ill they returned. They say they have never seen the Master of life, and therefore cannot pretend to personify him; but they have often heard him speak in the thunder; they wear often a shell which is in honor, or in representation of him, but they do not pretend that it resembles him, or has anything in common with his form, organization, or dimensions.

 

They are large and symmetrically well formed, with the usual high cheek bones, the nose more or less aquiline, colour reddish coppery, the hair black and straight. Their women are small and homely, with broad faces. We saw but a single squaw in the village who had any pretensions to beauty; she was recently married to an enterprizing warrior, who invited us to a feast, apparently in order to exhibit his prize to us.

 

The females, like those of other aborigines, cultivate the maize, beans, pumpkins, and watermelons, gather and prepare the two former, when ripe, and pack them away in skins, or in mats, for keeping; prepare the flesh of the bison by drying for preservation; attend to all the cooking; bring wood and water; and in other respects manage the domestic concerns, and appear to have over them absolute sway. These duties, as far as we could observe, they not only willingly performed as a mere matter of duty, but they exhibited in their deportment a degree of pride and ambition to acquit themselves well; in this respect resembling a good housewife amongst the civilized fair. Many of them are tattooed.

Both sexes, of all ages, bathe frequently, and enter the water indiscriminately. The infant is washed in cold water soon after its birth, and the ablution is frequently repeated; the mother also bathes with the same fluid soon after delivery. The infant is tied down to a board, after the manner of many of the Indian tribes.

The chastity of the young females is guarded by the mother with the most scrupulous watchfulness, and a violation of it is a rare occurrence, as it renders the individual unfit for the wife of a chief, a brave warrior, or good hunter. To wed her daughter to one of these, each mother is solicitous; as these qualifications offer the same attractions to the Indian mother as family and fortune exhibit to the civilized parent. In the nation, however, are several courtezans; and during our evening walks we were sure to meet with respectable Indians who thought pimping no disgrace Sodomy is a crime not uncommonly committed; many of the subjects of it are publicly known, and do not appear to be despised, or to excite disgust; one of them was pointed out to us; he had submitted himself to it, in consequence of a vow he had made to his mystic medicine, which obliged him to change his dress for that of a squaw, to do their work, and to permit his hair to grow.

The men carefully pluck from their chins, axilla of the arms, eyebrows, and pubis, every hair of beard that presents itself: this is done with a spiral wire, which, when used, is placed with the side upon the part, and the ends are pressed towards each other so as to close the spires upon the hairs, which can then be readily drawn out.

 

Edwin James, Major Long’s expedition secretary (1819):

 

The Konza warriors, like those of some others of the Missouri tribes, on their departure on a war excursion, sometimes make vows, binding themselves never to return until they have peformed some feat which they mention, such as killing an enemy, striking an enemy’s dead body, or stealing a horse. An instance lately occurred, of a warrior who had been long absent under a vow of this sort, and finding it impossible to meet an enemy, and being in a starving condition, he returned to his own village by night, with the determination of accomplishing his vow, by killing and scalping the first person he should meet. This person happened to be the warrior’s own mother, but the darkness of the night prevented the discovery until he had accomplished his bloody purpose.

 

Paul Wilhelm, Duke of Württemberg, German traveler (1823):

 

Among the whites Wa-kan-ze-re [American Chief] is markedly esteemed because he was one of the first of his tribe to induce the Kansa, formerly hostile aborigines and cruel towards the settlers and fur traders, to adopt a friendly attitude and enter into trade with the Europeans. Since the beginning of this century this influence of that chief and some other respected Indians has been very noticeable. A man of more than forty, with a large, somewhat corpulent figure and a serious, commanding expression on his face, he conveys the poise and the calmness of bearing which show so advantageously in the character of the American aborigines.

Like most of the chiefs who have visited the eastern states to negotiate with the officials at the seat of the Congress, he shows in his behavior that he fully recognizes the advantages of European customs. Nevertheless, he is aware that the laws of the Europeans are unsuited to the nations close to the state of nature and that sudden acceptance of such laws would bring harm to them.

Since the weather became stormy, I had to embark in my unstable canoe sooner than I had desired, so as to achieve the opposite bank. The skill of my boatman luckily overcame the high waves on the [Kansas] river, which toyed with our hollowed-out log canoe. Since it is mandatory to maintain the equilibrium in such a canoe, persons whom one does not trust in this capacity are made to lie down flat in the bottom of the canoe, as in a coffin, and are not allowed to stir. Even so, Indian canoes upset frequently. Since the Indians can all swim like fish, this does not bother them much, and usually they are able to save their few belongings. Only rarely does an Indian or a Missouri hunter let a companion drown, but they always take the precaution to let a companion swallow enough water to make him incapable of hindering the rescuer by untimely movements.

 

[At the council] I had some brandy and tobacco distributed and gave the chief some presents. Whereupon he took the peace pipe and handed it to me as token of deepest friendship, at the same time delivering an address with much decorum. Naturally I could not understand its content, since the interpreter was not there. This unfortunate circumstance soon brought the meeting to a close. All the Indians arose and one after the other gave me his hand. I must say in honor of the Indians that I did not see one of them drunk, although the opportunity was not lacking, for the half-bloods and Creoles set them a bad example. All had indulged immoderately with whisky.

 

John C. McCoy, government surveyor (1830):

 

[There] was a stone building built by the government for White Plume, head chief of the Kanzans, in 1827 or 1828. . . . We passed by it in 1830 and found the gallant old chieftain sitting in state, rigged out in a profusion of feathers, paint, wampum, brass armlets, etc. at the door of a lodge he had erected a hundred yards or so to the northwest of his stone mansion, and in honor of our expected arrival the stars and stripes were gracefully floating in the breeze on a tall pole over him. He was large, fine-looking, and inclined to corpulency, and received my father with the grace and dignity of a real live potentate and graciously signified his willingness to accept any amount of bacon and other presents we might be disposed to tender him. In answer to an inquiry as to the reasons that induced him to abandon his princely mansion, his laconic explanation was simply, “Too much fleas.” A hasty examination I made of the house justified the wisdom of his removal. It was not only alive with fleas, but the floors, doors, and windows had disappeared, and even the casings had been pretty well used up for kindling-wood.

 

George Catlin, painter (1831):

 

The present chief of this tribe [Konzas] is known by the name of White Plume; a very urbane and hospitable man, of good portly size, speaking some English, and making himself good company for all white persons who travel through his country and have the good luck to shake his liberal and hospitable hand.

It has been to me a source of much regret that I did not get the portrait of this celebrated chief, but I have painted several others distinguished in this tribe, which are fair specimens of these people. Sho-me-cos-se (The Wolf), a chief of some distinction, with a bold and manly outline of head, exhibiting, like most of his tribe, an European outline of features, signally worthy the notice of the enquiring world.

 

The hair is cut as close to the head as possible, except a tuft the size of the palm of the hand, on the crown of the head, which is left of two inches in length; and in the center of which is fastened a beautiful crest made of the hair of the deer’s tail (dyed red) and horsehair, and oftentimes surmounted with the war-eagle’s quill. In the center of the patch of hair, which was left of a couple of inches in length, is preserved a small lock, which is never cut, but cultivated to the greatest length possible and uniformly kept in braid and passed through a piece of curiously carved bone, which lies in the center of the crest, and spreads it out to its uniform shape, which they study with great care to preserve. Through this little braid and outside the bone passes a small wooden or bone key which holds the crest to the head. This little braid is called in these tribes the scalp-lock and is scrupulously preserved in this way and offered to their enemy, if they can get it, as a trophy, which it seems in all tribes they are anxious to yield to their conquerors in case they are killed in battle and which it would be considered cowardly and disgraceful for a warrior to shave off, leaving nothing for his enemy to grasp for when he falls into his hands in the events of battle.

Amongst those tribes who thus shave and ornament their heads, the crest is uniformly blood-red, and the upper part of the head, and generally a considerable part of the face, as red as they can possibly make it with vermilion. I found these people cutting off the hair with small scissors, which they purchase of the fur traders, and they told me that previous to getting scissors, they cut it away with their knives, and, before they got knives, they were in the habit of burning it off with red-hot stones, which was a very slow and painful operation.

 

John Treat Irving, traveler (1833):

 

The [Konza] band before us were all finely formed men; for with the exception of the Osage Indians of the Arkansaw, they are considered the most noble of the tribes which yet roam within the neighborhood of the settlements. As yet from their communion with the whites they have derived benefit alone. Too far from them to imbibe their vices, they have yet been able to hold sufficient intercourse to promote their own interest. They have thrown aside their buffalo skin robes and adopted the blanket. They have become skillful in the use of the rifle, and, except in hunting the buffalo, make no use of bows and arrows.

 

The two bands seated themselves upon the long wooden benches on opposite sides of the room. There was a strong contrast between them. The Konzas had a proud, noble air, and their white blankets as they hung in loose and graceful folds around them, had the effect of classic drapery.

The Pawnees had no pride of dress. They were wrapped in shaggy robes, and sat in silence—wild and uncouth in their appearance, with scowling brows and close-pressed mouths.

 

John Kirk Townsend, touring physician and naturalist (1834):

 

In the evening the principal Kanzas chief paid us a visit in our tent. He is a young man about twenty-five years of age, straight as a poplar, and with a noble countenance and bearing, but he appeared to me to be marvellously deficient in most of the requisites which go to make the character of a real Indian chief, at least of such Indian chiefs as we read of in our popular books. I begin to suspect, in truth, that these lofty and dignified attributes are more apt to exist in the fertile brain of the novelist than in reality. Be this as it may, our chief is a very lively, laughing, and rather playful personage; perhaps he may put on his dignity, like a glove, when it suits his convenience.

 

Frederick Chouteau, Kaw trader (c. 1835):

 

Wa-ho-ba-ke was a noted brave [Once,] when the Kaws were out on hunt, Wa-ho-ba-ke was surprised when alone bathing in a creek, and shot through the body by two Pawnees, two bullets passing through his body the same instant, large thirty-two to-the-pound bullets. He fell and floated downstream. The two Pawnees sprang in and clubbed him. A blow on his head reanimated him so that he sprang to his feet in the shallow water, startling his two enemies, and causing them to flee. He then mounted his horse, which the Pawnees had left in their panic, and rode to the camp; reaching it, he fell to the ground exhausted. Having been brought back to the Fool Chief’s village, he lay a long time nearly dead in his lodge. Finally he was about to die, as he supposed, and it came into his mind that before he died he must have one more ride on his best hunting horse. He called for his horse to be brought to his lodge. The Indians placed him in his saddle. He was so weak and emaciated that he could not sit upon the pony by his own strength. The Indians tied him on, strapping his legs under the horse’s belly. He then started off, the pony running carelessly over the prairie. The agitation and shaking up, in this race, caused the bursting and discharge of an abscess, which had been formed in connection with his wounds. Returning to his wigwam, he immediately began to recover, and finally restored to health. This circumstance, together with his many acts of bravery, gave him great prominence in his tribe. [He died at Council Grove, of the smallpox, about 1850.]

 

The oldest girl is always first married. Her husband marries the younger girls successively as they become old enough, he being entitled to the privilege of marrying all the daughters for the family, a privilege which is almost universally taken advantage of. If, however, a young man declines to marry all the daughters, a second son-in-law may be taken into the family. I have seen some men have six or seven wives—sisters. They never have wives that are not sisters. If there be but one daughter, her husband has but one wife.

 

Victor Tixier, French traveler (1839):

 

The Kansa girls, much prettier than the Osage ones, looked at us without showing any shyness; their glances were even encouraging. . . . The beauty of the Kansa girls made Baptiste [the half-blood Osage guide] worry a great deal; he had a daughter who was, in his opinion, one of the prettiest women who had ever lived on the prairie. He gave her rich ornaments and made her ride his most beautiful horse, harnessed with all the luxury the savages are so fond of. He even had his daughter’s name proclaimed several times. When one wants to bring a brave or girl to the attention of the public, he gives horses, arms, or red blankets to young warriors, who run about the village crying out the name of the one who has been so generous. . . . Baptiste, vain half-breed that he was, had given ten horses to have the name of his daughter, the Prairie Rose, cried out. Baptiste made it clear to us on several occasions that he did not want her to marry a savage; it is true that he refused her hand to an Osage who offered fifty horses for her. This worthy father doubtless hoped that he might make us decide to imitate the example of young Europeans who, while traveling in this country, forgot their countries and their families to become savages and to live with the young beauties whom they loved. He let us understand that our asking would be favorably received. However, the beauty of Mile. Baptiste was thrown into the shade by that of the Kansa girls, so the father was very critical about the latter and always mentioned, by comparison, the wealth, the large lodge, and the intelligence of his daughter. The poor man was going through useless trouble, for none of us was tempted to marry in the manner of the savages, although it is a bond which one can break easily. Besides, the morals of the girls were not very strict. The Kansa girls came to bathe near us; they splashed us; threw sand at us.

 

Nicolas Point, traveler and Jesuit missionary (1840):

 

It would be difficult to give an account of all the singular things we saw during the half hour we passed in the midst of these strange figures. A Flemish painter would have found a treasure there in the Kansa lodge]. What struck me most were the strong character written on the faces of some of those about me, the artlessness, the attitudes, the facility of gesture, the vivacity of expression, the singularity of their dress and, most of all, the great variety of occupations. Only the women were working and, in order not to be distracted from their tasks, those who had children still unable to walk had placed them, strapped to a kind of board, large enough to prevent injury to their limbs, either in a corner or at their feet.

Some of the men were preparing to eat, which was their principal occupation when they were not fighting or hunting. Others were smoking, sleeping, talking, laughing, or were occupied with plucking the hair from their faces, including eyelashes and eyebrows. Still others were attending to their hair, an occupation they seemed to find most pleasing.

 

Soon I became aware that I, myself, was becoming the object of attention, almost the occasion for hilarity on the part of the Indian children. For some days I had given no attention to the matter of shaving. In their estimation, the acme of [male] beauty was the complete absence of hair from the chin, the eyelashes, the eyebrows, and the head. This was only a minor part of their grooming, but the trouble they took to achieve the ultimate perfection in this detail of appearance is only a small indication of their vanity.

If you wish a picture of the supremely self-satisfied Kansa in all his glory, you must imagine an Indian with vermilion circles about his eyes; blue, black, or red streaks on his face, pendants of crockery, glass, or mother-of-pearl hanging from his ears; about his neck a fancy necklace, making a large semi-circle on his breast, with a large medal of silver or copper in the middle of it. On his arms and wrists he would have many bracelets of brass, iron, or tin. About his middle would be a girdle, a belt of garish colors from which hung a tobacco pouch decorated with beads, and cutlass scabbard striped in various colors. And on top of all this would be a blue, white, green or red blanket, draped in folds about the body according to the caprice or need of the wearer. This, then, would be the finery one would see on the most envied of the Kansa tribe.

 

The Kansa were quite tall and very well shaped. Their physiognomy . . . was quite virile. Their abrupt, guttural language was remarkable for its long and sharp accentuation of inflection. But this did not prevent their singing from being most monotonous. To their strength, shrewdness, and courage, they added good common sense, something lacking in most Indians. . . . Among their chiefs were some men of true distinction. The best-known of them . . . was White Feather [White Plume].

 

Pierre-Jean De Smet, traveler and Jesuit missionary (1840):

 

It is not to be inferred . . . that the Kansas, like all the Indian tribes, never speak on the subject [of religion] without becoming solemnity. The more they are observed the more evident does it become that the religious sentiment is deeply implanted in their souls, and is, of all others, that which is most frequently expressed by their words and actions. Thus, for instance, they never take the calumet without first rendering some homage to the Great Spirit. In the midst of their most infuriate passions they address him certain prayers, and even in assassinating a defenceless child or woman, they invoke the Master of life. To be enabled to take many a scalp from their enemies, or to rob them of many horses, becomes the object of their most fervid prayers, to which they sometimes add fasts, macerations, and sacrifices. What did they not do last spring to render the heavens propitious? And for what? To obtain the power, in the absence of their warriors, to massacre all the women and children of the Pawnees! And in effect they carried off the scalps of ninety victims, and made prisoners of all whom they did not think proper to kill. In their eyes, revenge, far from being a horrible vice, is the first of virtues, the distinctive mark of great souls, and a complete vindication of the most atrocious cruelty. It would be time lost to attempt to persuade them that there can be neither merit nor glory in the murder of a disarmed and helpless foe. There is but one exception to this barbarous code: it is when an enemy voluntarily seeks a refuge in one of their villages. As long as he remains in it, his asylum is inviolable—his life is more safe than it would be in his own wigwam. But woe to him if he attempt to fly—scarcely has he taken a single step, before he restores to his hosts all the imaginary rights which the spirit of vengeance had given them to his life!

However cruel they may be to their foes, the Kansas are no strangers to the tenderest sentiments of piety, friendship, and compassion. They are often inconsolable for the death of their relations, and leave nothing undone to give proof of their sorrow. Then only do [the men] suffer their hair to grow—long hair being a sign of long mourning. The principal chief apologized for the length of his hair, informing us of what we could have divined from the sadness of his countenance, that he had lost his son.

 

Rufus Sage, journalist-traveler (1841):

 

A bevy of our [Caw] chief’s villagers, rigged in their rude fashion, came flocking up, apparently to gratify their curiosity in gazing at us, but really in expectation of some trifling presents, or in quest of a favorable opportunity for indulging their innate propensities for theft. However, they found little encouragement, as the vigilance of our guards more than equalled the cunning of our visitors. During their stay we were frequently solicited for donations of tobacco and ammunition in payment for passing through their country. This was individually demanded with all the assurance of government revenue officers, or the keepers of regular toll-bridges.

 

The Caws are generally a lazy and slovenly people, raising but little corn and scarcely any vegetables. For a living they depend mostly upon the chase. Their regular hunts are in the summer, fall, and winter, at which time they all leave for the buffalo range, and return laden with a full supply of choice provisions. The robes and skins thus obtained furnish their clothing and articles for traffic. As yet, civilization has made but small advances among them. Some, however, are tolerably well educated, and a Protestant mission established with them is beginning its slow but successful operations for their good, while two or three families of half-breeds nearby occupy neat houses and have splendid farms and improvements, thus affording a wholesome contrast to the poverty and misery of their rude neighbors.

 

Richard W. Cummins, Kaw agent (1845):

 

The Kansas are very poor and ignorant. I consider them the most hospitable Indians that I have any knowledge of. They never turn off hungry white or red, if they have anything to give them, and they will continue to give as long as they have anything to give.

 

James Josiah Webb, Santa Fe Trail trader (1847):

 

Two little boys from the Kaw village came into camp, and after gratifying their curiosity and eating of the best we were able to offer them, they commenced playing around camp and through the timber.

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.

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):

 

Farming among them this year has been successful, and some few take considerable interest in their work. I think there is an increasing disposition with some men to do their part of the work.

 

The school, which has been under the care of the Society of Friends, will be closed on the 15th. This effort to educate the Kaws has been a failure.

 

Whenever the school is resumed, it should be done on such a liberal scale that the scholars may be better clothed, better fed, and better cared for in every aspect than the children at home. Then the contrast will show the superiority of civilized over savage life. Simultaneous efforts should be made to Christianize the adults, otherwise the scholars, very soon after leaving school, will return to heathenism with greater capabilities of evil. The old men of the tribe see this tendency, and remark that the young men who have been to school are the worst in the tribe.

 

(Leavenworth) Daily Conservative (August, 1867):

 

With our routes of travel closed, with our borders beleaguered by thousands of these merciless devils whose natures are compounded by every essential diabolism of hell . . . we present to the civilized world a picture of weakness and vacillation, deliberately sacrificing men and women, one of whose lives is worth more than the existence of all the Indians in America.

 

Kaw chiefs to the Indian commissioner (1867):

 

The whites came and took possession of our places and stole our plows, harnesses, and corn, and hay that we had kept here when we left for the buffalo country last fall, and [they] have broken out our windows and have carried off the doors to our houses; the houses are now full of whites. . . . What shall we do but appeal to a generous father?

 

(Topeka) Daily Kansas State Record (June, 1868):

 

We have not seen the dusky forms of the noble red man of the Kaw persuasion about our streets in the last two or three days. Doubtless those sweet-scented ones that were encamped near here have gone back to their reservation. When we consider how efficient they were in “gobbling up” the putrescent animal and vegetable matter about the city, we almost regret their departure.

 

(Topeka) Daily Kansas State Record (August, 1868):

 

We hope that Easterners will learn that Kansas citizens are not thieves, constantly striving for an Indian war for the purpose of speculation, but that the frontier settlers are constantly in the presence of great danger so long as the Indians are permitted to remain in or come into the state.

 

Mahlon Stubbs, Kaw agent (1870):

 

[The Kaw chiefs’ reply to the proposed new treaty moving them to Indian Territory] was in substance . . . “we want to see some of these promises fulfilled before we make anymore treaties.”

Permit me to say that this tribe, in my opinion, has been badly dealt with in former years, that they have but little confidence in white men of any class.

 

A. E. Farnham, military official (1870):

 

Fifty men with wagons came on the Kansas Diminished Reserve yesterday and are selecting claims. They say five hundred more will come today. Agent Stubbs ordered them off. They refused.

 

Chief Ahlegawaho (1871):

 

I believe my people will soon be impoverished. This I do not want to see. This is the darkest period in our history. The whites have made attempts to buy my lands, but I have never yet asserted that I wished to sell my lands.

 

Mahlon Stubbs (1872):

 

The Kaw Indians are in very destitute condition [and] are now living on corn and what dead animals they can pick up, which is certainly very unwholesome and will cause sickness and death.

They cannot become self-sufficient without means to purchase agricultural implements and stock for them to start with. They seem willing to work and a number are anxious to adopt civilized habits to some extent, but the prospect for the last eight years of having their lands sold and [with them] soon to be removed has had a discouraging effect.

 

Chief Ahlegawaho (1872):

 

Great Father, you treat my people like a flock of turkeys. You come into our dwelling places and scare us out. We fly over and alight on another stream, but no sooner do we get well settled than again you come along and drive us farther and farther.

 

Columbus Delano, secretary of the interior, addressing Kaw chiefs (1872):

 

It is the policy of the President to give to the red men a country to themselves, where you can meet and mingle together free from the interruption of the whites, and it is my duty to say to you that you must sell your lands here and select a new reservation in the Indian Territory.