The North American Indian Part 2

For two years, until he met his death at the hands of Mexican troops in the fall of 1880, Victorio spread carnage throughout the southern portions of Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona, and the northern states of Mexico, enlisting the aid of every willing renegade or refugee of whatever band or tribe in that section. After him Nane, Chato, Juh, Geronimo, and other doughty hostiles carried the fighting and raiding along until June, 1883, when Crook, rea.s.signed to the Arizona district, followed the Chiricahua band under Geronimo into the Sierra Madre in Chihuahua, whence he brought them back whipped and ready to accept offers of peace. The captives were placed upon the San Carlos and White Mountain reservations, where, with the various other Apache bands under military surveillance, and with Crook in control, they took up agriculture with alacrity. But in 1885 Crook's authority was curtailed, and through some cause, never quite clear, Geronimo with many Chiricahua followers again took the warpath. Crook being relieved at his own request, Gen. Nelson A. Miles was a.s.signed the task of finally subduing the Apache, which was consummated by the recapture of Geronimo and his band in the Sierra Madre in September, 1886.

These hostiles were taken as prisoners to Florida, later to Alabama, and thence to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, where, numbering 298, they still are, living as farmers in peace and quiet, but still under the control of the military authorities.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Alchise_ - Apache]

_Alchise_ - Apache

_From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S. Curtis_

One of the last hostile movements of note was the so-called Cibicu fight in 1882. In the spring of that year an old medicine-man, Nabakelti, Attacking The Enemy, better known as Doklini, started a "medicine" craze in the valley of the Cibicu on the White Mountain reservation. He had already a considerable following, and now claimed divine revelation and dictated forms of procedure in bringing the dead to life. As medicine paraphernalia he made sixty large wheels of wood, painted symbolically, and twelve sacred sticks, one of which, in the form of a cross, he designated "chief of sticks." Then with sixty men he commenced his dance.

One morning at dawn Nabakelti went to the grave of a man who had been prominent in the tribe and who had recently died. He and his adherents danced about the grave and then dug up the bones, around which they danced four times in a circle. The dancing occupied the entire morning, and early in the afternoon they went to another grave, where the performance was repeated. In each instance the bones were left exposed; but later four men, specially delegated, went to the graves and erected a brush hut over the remains.

Nabakelti told the people that they must pray each morning for four days, at the end of which time the bleached bones would be found clothed with flesh and alive again. By the end of the second day the Apache band on the Cibicu became excited almost to the degree of frenzy. They watched the little grave-houses constantly and gathered in groups about other graves.

Some of the Apache employed as scouts with the detachment stationed at Fort Apache heard of the craze and obtained leave of absence to investigate. They returned and informed the commanding officer, then acting as agent, that their people were going mad, whereupon a number of scouts and troopers were sent to learn the cause of the trouble and to ask Nabakelti to come to the fort for an interview. Though angered by the message, the old man agreed to come in two days. Meanwhile he had the little brush houses over the bones tightly sealed to keep out preying animals and curious Indians. He then explained to his people that, owing to the interruption by the whites, it was probable that the bones would not come to life at the end of four days, as predicted, but that he would make a new dance later and prove the efficacy of his creed.

Then he started for the fort with his entire band of dancers, sixty-two in number, each with his "sacred medicine"-wheels, sticks, and drums. They journeyed afoot, stopping occasionally to dance, and reached the grounds of the fort late in the afternoon of the second day. On they pa.s.sed, dancing in a spectacular manner, and camped that night on the flat a little above the fort, where they waited for someone to come over to interview them. The agent did not send for Nabakelti that night, so at daybreak he started up White river with his band, pa.s.sing by the present agency site, and crossing into Bear Springs valley. Thence they took the trail toward the Cibicu again, reaching the Carrizo in the evening, where they camped for the night and performed another dance. The following morning they took the trail for their home, which they reached rather early in the day.

As soon as the band had reached its destination, another summons was delivered to Nabakelti to appear before the agent at the fort. This time the old man sent back word that he would not come: he had gone once, and if any had wished to see him, they had had their chance.

On receipt of this reply, sixty mounted soldiers, armed and provisioned, were sent over to the Cibicu to put a stop to the dancing. Apache scouts had been stationed to watch the manuvres of the Indians and to keep the officials informed. They met the troopers, who made a night ride to the stream, and informed them where the old medicine-man was encamped. Early in the morning the soldiers reached the Cibicu at a point about two miles above Nabakelti's camp, whence a detachment was despatched to arrest the medicine-man and bring him to the place where headquarters were being established. It was the intention merely to arrest and hold him while the troops rested for the day, preparatory to taking him back to the fort; but it was deemed necessary to send a force sufficiently large to cope with the Indians should they attempt resistance.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Mescal Hills - Apache]

Mescal Hills - Apache

_From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S. Curtis_

Nabakelti yielded without hesitation to the demands of the soldiers, and forthwith rode up to headquarters. Everything seemed very quiet. There was no demonstration against the soldiers, who stacked their arms and unloaded the pack-trains. The mules were hobbled and turned loose, and the cavalry horses tethered and fed.

While this apparently peaceful condition prevailed, a brother of the medicine-man, angered because of the arrest, dashed into camp on a pony and shot and killed the captain in command. Instantly, hardly realizing whence the shot had come, one of the troopers struck Nabakelti on the head with a cudgel, killing him. a.s.sured that a fight was imminent, the soldiers receded to higher ground, a short distance back, where they hurriedly made preparations for defence.

On learning that Nabakelti had been killed, and deeming the soldiers wholly to blame, a small party of Apache attacked the troopers while retreating to the higher ground. Six of the soldiers were killed, the mules stampeded, and the provisions burned, all within a short s.p.a.ce of time. The hostiles made their escape, practically all of them leaving the valley.

The Government probably never lost money faster in an Indian campaign than it did as a result of its interference with Nabakelti's harmless medicine craze. Had he been left alone his inevitable failure, already at hand, to bring the dead to life would have lost him his following, and in all probability his ill-success would have cost his life at the hands of one of his tribesmen. As it was, the hostilities that followed extended over several months, costing many lives and a vast sum of money.

HOMELAND AND LIFE

The present Apache population is approximately six thousand, including the Jicarillas and Mescaleros of New Mexico. It is doubtful if the number ever exceeded ten thousand. In population, therefore, the Apache seem almost too insignificant to have kept the other tribes of the vast Southwest, as well as two civilized nations, in constant dread for so long a period.

At the present time the greater part of the Apache reside on the White Mountain reservation, Arizona, comprising more than 3,500,000 acres, with agency headquarters at Whiteriver and San Carlos. This reservation is a part of the great tableland of southeastern Arizona, being a succession of mountains and high, park-like mesas, broken here and there with valleys and watered by limpid streams. The highlands are wooded with pine, cedar, fir, juniper, oak, and other trees, while in the valleys are mistletoe-laden cottonwood as well as willow, alder, and walnut, which, with smaller growths, are interwoven with vines of grape, hop, and columbine, in places forming a veritable jungle. On every hand, whether on mountain or in valley, many varieties of cactus grow in profusion; and in springtime canon and vale, mountain-side and mesa, are all aglow with wild flowers.

In midsummer the temperature of the lower reaches seems as great as that of a furnace. At the same season in the mountain and high mesa country, especially in the shade of the beautiful forests, the atmosphere is ideal; but in winter these higher levels are covered deep with snow, swept by fierce winds that chill one to the very marrow.

The typical Apache habitation, called _kowa_, consists of a framework of poles loosely thatched with native gra.s.s, through which the smoke from the central fire finds its outlet and the rain and snow sift in, rendering it anything but a comfortable shelter in time of storm. The _kowa_ is erected by the women, who are little more than drudges, and as an Apache may have as many wives as he feels able to support, he may have as many homes as circ.u.mstances require. The various wives are p.r.o.ne to be quarrelsome among themselves, for which reason a man usually maintains one wife on one part of the reservation and another wife perhaps many miles away.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Primitive Apache Home]

Primitive Apache Home

_From Copyright Photograph 1903 by E.S. Curtis_

In the good old days the radius of Apache wandering centred in the mountains of what is now southeastern Arizona; this was their stronghold, their lair, whence they raided to the south, well down into Sonora and Chihuahua, westward to the Colorado river, northward into the Hopi and Navaho country, and eastward as far at least as western Texas. From this mountain rendezvous they swept down upon the Mexicans and Indians of Sonora and Chihuahua, and on the Pueblo villages of the north, while in later years they terrorized the white settlers of the entire Southwest. To follow them was a fruitless task which often led to the destruction of the pursuers.

The primitive Apache was a true nomad, a wandering child of Nature, whose birthright was a craving for the warpath, with courage and endurance probably exceeded by no other people, and with cunning beyond reckoning.

Although his character is a strong mixture of courage and ferocity, the Apache is gentle and affectionate toward those of his own flesh and blood, particularly his children. Fear, to him, is unknown. Death he faces with stolid indifference; yet Apache men have been known to grieve so deeply over the loss of a friend as to end their troubles by self-destruction.

No people could be better fitted than the Apache to conduct continuous predatory warfare. Every form of plant and animal life pays him tribute.

An entirely naked Indian, without implements of any sort, would stop on a mountain slope and in a few minutes be sitting by a cheerful fire preparing a welcome meal. With a fragment of stone he would shape fire-sticks from the dead stalk of a yucca. Sitting with the flattened piece held firmly by his feet, a pinch of sand at the point of contact between the two sticks, with a few deft whirls of the round stick over his improvised hearth the lone traveller would soon have a fire kindled. Into the blaze he would cast a few sections of green, juicy mescal(1) stalk which, when cooked, would afford him both food and drink. This part of his meal finished, the Apache might gather other dead yucca stalks, split them, and often find within small stores of honey.

Many plants furnish small seeds rich in nutriment. These are gathered in a basket, ground on a metate, and the oily ma.s.s formed into a ball with the hands. The Apache a.s.sert that a lump as large as one's two fists would subsist a man for two days; but in addition he would eat wild greens of various kinds, either cooked or raw. One of the princ.i.p.al vegetal foods of the Apache is the mescal-in their language, _nata_. Nothing can give a better idea of the economic life of these people than a description of one of their annual mescal harvests.

The mescal harvest occurs in the season of new life and growth, when the call from the wild is strong in the blood, and like a cla.s.s of children-for they are but grown-up children-they pour out into the wilds.

From the camp where they have pa.s.sed the winter they take to the trails which lead to the mescal hills.

For some hours after leaving the huts on White river the path leads across the hot, dusty desert; then it reaches the rim of White river canon and follows its edge so closely that a pebble tossed from the saddle would drop into the torrent more than a thousand feet below. How musical the roar of the stream, and how cool its waters look! As the trail pa.s.ses some especially dizzy spot the Indian women lean away from the sheer edge in fear. For miles the trail traverses the bluff. At times the river is out of sight and hearing, then it emerges again and both eye and ear receive its greeting. At the hour when the pinon trees stretch their long shadows across the land the Indians urge their horses down a steep, winding trail and arrive at the river's bank. Here they ford, follow the course of the stream for a while, and then at a bend reach an open flat dotted here and there with shapely live-oaks. In this park-like opening the long straggling line comes to a halt.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Cutting Mescal - Apache]

Cutting Mescal - Apache

_From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S. Curtis_

All the worldly possessions of the Apache woman are packed on the horse which she and her children have ridden. The mother, with the youngest in her arms, first clambers down, followed by the little girl four years of age; she then removes the blankets that cover the pack, then the burden basket containing her cooking utensils, next the water bottle, and from across the saddle seat the large rawhide carryall that contains the family supplies and extra clothing. A smaller rawhide bag holds those little essentials necessary to the comfort of the family. The unloading finished, the woman fills the water bottle at the stream and gathers fuel for preparing the simple meal, which is soon over. If anything is more simple than the cooking it is the preparation of the bed. A small circular spot is cleared and an armful of gra.s.s, if any exists, is spread over it; the blankets are laid on the gra.s.s, and the bed is made. The blankets may not be clean, and certainly the pallet is not downy, but this matters little to a people inured to hardship; they are happy.

With a laugh the children tumble upon the blankets. Being dressed in a single garment a little girl innocently exposes more of her body than meets with her modest mother's approval. The scolding is full and positive. Little Miss Apache, sitting in the middle of the blanket with her knees drawn to her chin and with scant skirt now tucked carefully about her feet, looks up with roguish smile, then down at her wiggling toes in coquettish defiance.

From far down the stream resound the splash of water and the merry laughter of matrons and maidens bathing in the clear pools, and from above the more boisterous shouts of men and boys. Surely he who says the American Indian is morose, stolid, and devoid of humor never knew him in the intimacy of his own home.

With the coming of light the women are at work building the campfires, and the rising sun finds them at their morning meal. The breaking of camp is a brief task. To-day they are to cross the divide, ford Black river, and continue on to the mountains where the mescal grows abundantly. Travel in the cool morning hours is a delight, and seven o'clock finds the party well on its way. The long cavalcade winds slowly over the mountain trail.

Just ahead is a mother with two children, a little girl astride behind her and a two-year-old boy standing in her lap. The mourning dove sounds its melancholy note from the forest, and the children take up the call. The little boy is not very proficient in the imitation, and sister corrects him time after time. Truly, in Indian-land, nature study begins early in life.

There is noticeable change in the vegetation. The giant yuccas appear almost as a forest to-day; yesterday there was none. Soon the party gains the summit of the range, before which winds the valley of the Black with miles of placid stream in view. Quite different is this from White river, which is ever hurrying, rushing along. The Black flows within its gra.s.sy banks for long distances with scarcely a ripple; then a whirling rapid is pa.s.sed, beyond which glides another long stretch of almost silent water.

However, mescal does not grow by cool streams, and the trail again leads up into high mountains. On a broad slope well toward the summit the final halt is made. Close by is the mescal pit, perhaps twenty feet in diameter and three feet deep; it may have been used a hundred years or a thousand, abandoned for a long period, and then brought into use again. Each time it is employed it must first be cleaned of the refuse from the last burning; this done, a large supply of fuel is gathered and thrown in, and over all are piled great quant.i.ties of stones.

Then begins the harvest of the mescal. With baskets on their backs the women go out to gather the plants. Their implements consist of a stick about two inches in diameter and three feet long, wedge-shaped and sharpened at one end, and a broad hatchet-like knife. On reaching a plant, the woman places the sharp end of the stick at its base and by a blow with a stone severs the root and pries it up. Nothing could be more primitive.

The women of the Stone Age who gathered mescal on the same ground, and perhaps used the same pit, thus far must have used identical tools.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Mescal - Apache]