Wild West Podcast

A Confrontation with the Tribes: The Sundance and the Unsettling Warning in the Wild West

February 05, 2019 Michael King/Brad Smalley
Wild West Podcast
A Confrontation with the Tribes: The Sundance and the Unsettling Warning in the Wild West
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Ever wondered how life in the Wild West was? Picture this: a small town being built from the ground up in a wilderness known as Adobe Walls. We're bringing you on an adventure where you'll traverse the landscape with Masterson, Billy Tyler, and Mike McCabe, searching for buffaloes – the lifeblood of this rugged lifestyle. Along the way, we stumble upon an ideal camping ground at the mouth of White Deer Creek, filled with signs predicting the return of the elusive buffaloes.

As we continue our journey, we come across a herd of thousands of buffaloes, an astonishing sight that stirs up the thrill of the hunt. We battle with the herd, bringing down a calf and a three-year-old bull among others. In the end, we triumph over twenty-seven buffaloes, but our victory is short-lived as a storm spooks the herd into a stampede. As the dust settles, a second herd emerges on the horizon, signifying that our adventure is far from over.

The narrative takes a gripping turn as we come face to face with the tribes preparing for the Sundance, lead by their religious leader Isatea. We witness the mystic practices and the supernatural claims that come with it. The tension escalates as chiefs of Quartz and Hoia tribes escape the camp, warning of a potential uprising. As soldiers are brought to Fort Supply and a reliable scout is called for, we're left wondering - what lies ahead in this Wild West adventure? Join us as we unfold this exciting saga on iTunes Podcast or WildWestPodcastbussproutcom.

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Speaker 1:

Wild West Podcast presents Return of the Great Hunters, part 4, prairie Thunder, written by Mike King and narrated by Brad Smalley. The day after we camped on Bent Creek, several of the boys rode northeast to look over the country. Upon the return, they reported that there was an excellent site for a permanent camp on the next creek, about a mile and a half further on. So we pulled up to the valley and began unloading our wagons on the bare ground. In a broad valley where there was a handsome stream called East Adobe Walls Creek, myers and Lenners built a picket house 20 by 60 feet in size. James Hanrahan put up a sod house, 25 by 60, in which he opened a saloon. Thomas O'Keefe built a blacksmith's shop of pickets, 15 feet square. Thus a little town was sprouting in the wilderness, a place where we could buy something to eat and wear, something to drink, ammunition for our guns and a place where our wagons so necessary in expeditions like ours could be repaired.

Speaker 1:

While all this hammering and pounding and digging were going on, I rode the country with Masterson, billy Tyler and Mike McCabe. We were absent from the small settlement about 15 days and upon our return we found the buildings about finished. We did not see many buffaloes on this trip. During our absence from camp, wright and Langdon came down from Dodge City with another outfit and built a sod house 16 by 20 feet. This firm of Wright and Langdon bought buffalo hides and was engaged in general merchandising. James Langdon was in charge of the business. The buildings were finished as rapidly as possible and every man at Adobe Wall's settlement who could be induced to engage in manual labor was given a job and paid well for his services. Each building had a big cottonwood ridge log paralleled with the smaller poles running down the roof. The poles were covered with dirt and sod. For safety and convenience in handling their stock, myers and Lennards built a stockade corral by setting big cottonwood logs in the ground.

Speaker 1:

I had no liking for the monotony and restraint of camp life. I became impatient to be about my own business, which was to find a good buffalo range and begin hunting. After remaining in camp two days, masterson and I saddled and mounted again to go up the Canadian as far west as Hills Creek. We crossed the river and followed the old Fort Bascom trail to Antelope Creek. There we struck the trail I had made during the previous winter and which I now followed back across the Canadian and thence north to Grapevine Creek where we camped two or three days. This was at the edge of the plains. At intervals we struck small bands of bulls, as we did all the way. Buffaloes were surprisingly scarce. Sometimes we killed them and at other times did not molest them. Generally there were four to ten in a bunch. The scarcity of buffaloes somewhat discouraged us and we redoubled our efforts to locate a big herd. We held to the east, keeping along the edge of the plains and coming down to the Canadian between Bugbecanion and Big Creek.

Speaker 1:

We were in the Bugbecanion in May 1874. The season was delightful. The air was fresh and invigorating, the grass was green, the flowers were blooming, the sky was clear, the sunshine pleasant, and a feeling of joy and happiness everywhere. Those were splendid nights out there under the stars. The stars shone on a moonless night like sugar spilt over black marble, glistening in the sun. The night sky was such a welcome sight, appearing like magic at each sunset, promising to return as she faded in dawn's first light. The mornings came with dazzling splendor At. This season's sunrise on the plains presented a scene of magnificence. I always had the feeling that it came with a thunderous sound.

Speaker 1:

After surveying the land, we decided to return to Adobe Walls. All the buildings had been finished and everybody was doing a good business, quite. A number of hunters had come down from the north and a plain trail had been opened between Adobe Walls and Dodge City, 150 miles away. Freight outfits were making regular trips between the two places. All of us hunters acquainted with the habits of the buffalo knew that the herds would soon be coming north from the Stake Plains region where they had spent the winter. The spring had been unusually late, which held back the buffaloes and their migration. There was nothing for us to do but wait until the buffalos were moved by that strange impulse that, twice annually, caused them to change their home and blacken the planes with their countless moving forms. We could lie around, camp or vary the monotony by going to adobe walls and joining in the fun that was rampant at that place. Our amusements were mostly card playing, running horse races, drinking whiskey and shooting at targets, the latter to improve our marksmanship.

Speaker 1:

All this soon got old to me and about the last of May I pulled out again. Billy, tyler and Masterson decided to stay in camp to enjoy the festivities. So I decided to take three of my skinners, along with two freight wagons and my two favorite mules, toby and Old Joe. During the last part of May, our team of two wagons crossed the Canadian River at the mouth of White Deer Creek. Frenchie, my skinner, mccabe, our second driver, and Charlie Armitage, an Englishman who loved the frontier, all agreed we would keep along the edge of the river. We soon reached Dixon Creek, a creek I named after myself. At the head of Dixon Creek we found an ideal camping ground. I knew by the signs buffalos had been through the area and it was certain they would soon be returning. The area was ideal for building a permanent camping place, with plenty of wood, grass and water. We had been here two or three days when the expected happened.

Speaker 1:

The next morning I woke before my companions. I chunked the fire for breakfast. Standing over the smoldering stack of wood, a familiar sound came rolling toward me from the plains. It was, if a running train could be heard from a distance a deep, thunderous sound, moving, rumbling, as I knew what was in hand. I had often heard it. I had been listening for it for days, even weeks. Walking out on a high point near camp, I gazed eagerly toward the horizon. I could see nothing save the vast, undulating landscape. My ears, however, had revealed to me what my eyes could not see. It was the sound of prairie thunder. The buffalos were coming, hurring back to camp. I shouted the good news to McCabe, Armitage and Frenchie, rousing them from their sleep and telling them to hurry breakfast. They lost no time in making coffee, frying meat and browning a cake of bread.

Speaker 1:

I saddled my horse by the time breakfast was ready and, after eating, hurriedly sprang into my saddle and went south at a gallop. After I had ridden about five miles, I began striking small bunches of buffalo bulls, all headed north and all moving. A further ride of eight miles carried me out onto the plains. My muscles hardened and grew warm at the sight. As far as the eye could reach, southeast and west of me, there was a solid mass of buffaloes, thousands upon thousands of them slowly moving toward the north. The noise I had heard at early daybreak was the bellowing of the bulls. At this time of year, the breeding season, the bellowing of the many bulls was continuous, a deep, steady roar that seemed to reach to the clouds. It was kept up night and day, but seemed to be the deepest and plainest. At early morning I was happy beyond major and turned my horse toward camp, hastening at full speed to let my men know what I had found Already. The buffaloes were approaching the vicinity of our camp and inside of it I shot 35 or 40, all bulls. The bulls were soon busy at work with their skinning knives. By night buffaloes were passing within gunshot of our camp. The business had now begun in earnest and we would soon be enjoying a steady income to offset our winter's expenses. Where buffaloes were as plentiful as they were, I easily killed enough in a day to keep ten skinners busy at work.

Speaker 1:

The next morning, bright and early, we were at work. We found a herd feeding on the prairie within two miles of camp. I crawled out on my hands and knees up the bank of the river. I took a lying position behind some brush when a herd of buffaloes approached. The herd was led by a few frisky young calves that broke out over the bank. Without stopping to explore, I rolled over quickly to stay out of their path. I thought if I retained my position the whole bunch would trample over me.

Speaker 1:

I was now lying in the long grass and saw what was coming as I got to my feet. A stream of buffalo divided and swept to the right and left Through the dust. I saw an old cow's head within three feet and let her have it under the foreshoulder. The impetus with which she was moving was so great that she pitched dead upon the sands at the brink of the river three rods away. I looked over and saw Mike laughing at me. He was in total amusement. I could only imagine what a sight I portrayed.

Speaker 1:

I began dodging and shooting the herd as they breached the hill, as if I had commenced a battle between them and they had commenced battle upon me. I wanted to prove myself to Mike that I was a buffalo runner and all I could do at the moment was to engage in buffalo dodging. A calf was the next victim. I next blazed away at the spike, a three-year-old bull. The first shot was ineffectual. He ran up the river about a hundred yards. I kept at his heels and brought him down with a second bullet. By this time the bunch was much scattered. Many animals crossed the river and others ran down the stream and regained the bluffs below. Well before noon we had killed twenty-seven.

Speaker 1:

In the afternoon, under a darkening sky, we skimmed these hides and loaded our wagons On our return trip to camp. The sky began to thicken. Black clouds sprawled across the sky, billowing in from the west. The air grew heavy and stillness fell over the darkening prairie. Then out of the silence came a low crackle of thunder echoing across the hills. Then another streak of hot silver split the sky, this time closer. The boom rolled across the valley. The herd became spooked. There was an instant stampede. The herd scattered fan-like, stopping at a distance of two to three hundred yards.

Speaker 1:

I looked back over my shoulder getting a glimpse of the standing herd when a bolt of lightning ripped behind the dark canvas. A luminous shock of white blinded me and in an instant the graphite sky forked with a silvery radiance, crackled to the ground, striking a bull with one brilliant light. A thunderous boom called its warning. Too late the herd began to run. The one stricken bull lay burning in a dark hole of glowing ember. It was then when I caught sight of a mass of dark objects. A second herd filled the horizon. The second herd was larger than the standing herd below us.

Speaker 1:

Frenchy manning, the big wagon three hundred yards behind us, yelled out Buffaloes. Then Charlie fired a warning shot and bellowed out Stampede. My brain jumped as Charlie's distant blood-curdling howl and gunshot made my hair stand on end. I watched anxiously as the land behind me was slowly transforming into a lethal running round. I've seen darkness before, but this was the kind that makes blackness in golf a man's thoughts Stretching out in front of me like a map. The massive herd awakened my fears, my courage and my knowledge. The sky plunged into an ominous darkness and with one flash had awakened all the creatures out of their lair.

Speaker 1:

The two herds grew into one. The ground rumbled and roared like two freight trains running on the same track. The sounds were broken when Frenchy yelled out in the wagon next to me Go, damn, you go. Now it was time to make a run. Mccabe grabbed his whip, stood high in the wagon and kicked the reins high and yelled Just go, you damn mules. I did not look back, for the sound of the fast-running herd could be sensed all around me. The ground bounced underneath us.

Speaker 1:

The wagon with a full load of hides was impossible to control. I could hear the wagon spoke, so the wheels groan as our wagon's pace grew weaker under the strain of our load. The rain began to fall so thickly that there became an instant covering of water on the ground. Now mud holes began to form. Then I continued to drive the wagon hard. The harsh rain obliterated the open land in front of me and turned our escape into disoriented chaos. Then, within seconds, the deafening sound of the approaching herd calmed. I pulled back on the reins. The wagon slowed to a stop. I stood up, looked back through the downpour and the herd was no longer approaching our wagon. The heavy rains had carved a miniature canyon in their path. This was a rut about the same width of two freighter wagons and deep as half a horse. The rut had turned to running buffalo east. I could still see their masses. The rain slowed their run over the hills and in the distance I could see them bogging down in the river.

Speaker 1:

The next day we did not hunt. The rain had taken over the prairie, felling the wallows with water. The mud did not hinder our horses, so Mike and I decided to ride out on the prairie, this time northeast of our camp. Mccabe and I followed a buffalo trail. The trail would turn about every 400 yards. You notice how the trail turns and how crooked they are. I asked that is because the buffalo's eyes are so placed in the head it is impossible for them to see forward. This is why they never pursue a straight course when migrating. They are compelled to keep one side turned as they look ahead with one eye. This motion of looking ahead with one eye and behind with the other causes them to stagger sideways for a few hundred yards as they change their view of the world from front to back.

Speaker 1:

It was about five miles out on the buffalo trail when we witnessed hundreds of hides lying in waste Hides being spoiled by the rain. Some of the hides left by the hunters were torn apart by wolves. Large sets of bones stretched across the plains. The white skeletal remains glistened in the sun. The birds and large numbers tore into the carcasses. Such a waste, I thought to myself. Such a waste. It only took a few days to kill enough buffalo to keep McCabe, frenchie and Armitage employed skinning buffalo hides.

Speaker 1:

I drew somewhat leery of where we were hunting. The place was out in the open and I feared the Indians might see us. I wanted to pick up the pace of skinning, so I headed back to Adobe Walls in the light wagon to see if I could hire more skinners. On my way back to the Adobe Walls settlement, I had undertaken to pick out the most direct route from my camp to Adobe Walls, keeping on the divide between Dixon Creek and Short Creek. I came to a stretch of very rough country late in the evening and finally reached a place where it was impossible to travel further in a wagon. As darkness was falling, I unhooked my mules, toby and Joe, and jumped a stride old Toby and followed some buffalo trails down to Dixon Creek near his mouth, where grass and water were abundant. As this particular locality was new to me and darkness was at hand, I decided that I would camp there for the night. Picketing one of the mules, I turned the other one loose, with a single blanket for my head and my coat for a pillow. I lay down for the night and was soon sound asleep.

Speaker 1:

The next morning I hitched up and started my travel back to the Adobe Wall settlement. When I reached the Canadian, I found the river with her back up. The heavy rain from the day before filled the river to its banks. The waters swirled, turban and brown In that soup of mud and debris. The force of water had washed away both sides of the banks. The river had turned into a swole and tyrant, its surface pitted with hundreds of white caps. The river was so deep and swollen that it would have been the height of foolishness to attempt a crossing.

Speaker 1:

I went on to White Deer Creek, hoping to find a shallower crossing. I waited the river in my search for a good footing and decided finally that I could cross by swimming the mules 50 or 60 yards, choosing a point on the opposite side of the river where I wished to land, I dove in and hoping for the best. In a moment the swift current caught me and both mules were swimming In water. A mule has less sense than a horse and the ginger is soon knocked out of him as he gets his ears full of water. Having smaller feet, the mule cannot equal a horse in traversing quicksand.

Speaker 1:

After the mules had taken a few plunges, the current caught up my wagon and whirled it over and over like a top. When I saw that the mules would have to swim for it, I sprang into the water to help the frightened animals, getting on their upper side and seizing the mule nearest me by his bridle. In this way, I was able to keep his head above water. The other mule, terrified by its surroundings, alternately rose and sank. I reached out to grab old Joe and I went under the water with him. The current was strong and my head started pounding. Every cell in my body screened for oxygen. My right hand was entangled in the harness and the wagon was pulling us under. I kept fighting until I felt like my head was about to explode. I let go of old Joe's harness and service. I saw that if the wagon kept turning over the team might get drowned. So I cut the harness and, after the greatest exertion, got the mules ashore.

Speaker 1:

The near mule, old Joe, had laid down on the sand and died without a struggle. It seemed ridiculous that the mule should succumb after being taken from the water. Yet very lay Old Toby was saved. The wagon drifted downstream about 60 yards and lodged against the bank. My greatest misfortune was the loss of my gun. The loss of my gun was a jolt from the shoulder. I stood in greatest need of my gun, a big fifty. I could dig out the wagon, but not the guns, and somewhere in the depths of the Canadian they're rusting. This very day I was as sorrowful sight as I straddled old Toby and leaving old Joe to bleach on the Canadian sands. I had lost my hat in the river and my clothing was plastered with mud and sand.

Speaker 1:

Quana was an innovator in Comanche government. His first accomplishment was to unify the wandering bands of Comanche for a Sundance. Although Quana was a half-breed, he had never agreed with the Whites. In fact he was one of the chiefs that had refused to sign the Medicine Lodge Creek Treaty and had never brought his people to a reservation. He appears to have had more intellect than his fellow tribesmen and could grasp problems on a grander scale than his contemporaries. Quana Parker knew that the Whites settlers were becoming more numerous and powerful with each year. A coalition of all the plains Indians against the invaders would be necessary if victory were to be assured. Messengers were sent across the plains to offer an invitation to Kayawas, kayawah, patches and southern Cheyennes to join the Comanches for the Sundance. The purpose of a Sundance was to prepare young men for war. Parker's plan was then to gather all of the tribes for a general council in order to discuss their common problems and grievances against the encroaching Whites. Quana wanted to bring the principal chiefs of the plains Indians together to talk of war. Quana knew that his young braves were longing for war and that maybe the other tribal chiefs would see this same desire for war in their young men to unite their tribes with the Comanches for an all-out war.

Speaker 1:

Comanches, like most plains Indians, depended on prophets or mystics to solve domestic and tribal problems. In the spring of 1874, bands of Comanche, chihuahua, cheyenne and Arapaho nations were called together by their religious leader, isetea, for a Sundance. Isetea, meaning Coyoteanus in Comanche, had become a prominent warrior and medicine man of the Quahati band, being known by the Plains tribes as a prophet and messiah. He began uniting the autonomous Comanche bands through the First Comanche Sundance, a Plains Indians ritual that his tribe had not previously adopted. Among the many tribes who had gathered during the ceremonies were the Mexican Comancheros, and many took part with the liberal consumption of whiskey. The whiskey circulated deep into the camp, served to harden the stance of creating a great war party within the gathering. The spirit of creating a war party increased when a band of Cheyenne dog soldiers rode into camp brandishing 80 new mint breech loading rifles.

Speaker 1:

The commotion and talk of war caused some member of the attending Penta Tancatrib to grow easy with concern. It was a time when prayer was offered, followed by the ceremonial felling of a tree, which was then painted and erected at the dancing ground. Offerings were made to show respect to the great spirit and painted dancers abstaining from food that circled the pole to the beat of drums, bells and sacred chants. Once it was over, they smoked a sacred pipe in honor of the great spirit.

Speaker 1:

As Isatea proclaimed his prophecy, isatea pointed to the night sky, waving his arms through the blaze of the campfire. He claimed that he had ascended into heaven and had conversed with the great spirit. He told the gathering tribes that the great spirit granted him extraordinary powers. Among these claims was his ability to cure the sick and bring the dead back to life. He revealed to the setting council of warriors how he could control the weather and make the white man's bullets fall harmlessly to the ground. Isatea's chanted words mesmerized each of the tribes belief that he had his mystic powers. The tribes looked through the rising smoke, seeing the reflective flames in Isatea's eyes as he raised his arms into the starry sky, giving the notion that he had predicted the disappearance of a comet in 1873. These prognostications convinced the Kiowa, cheyenne and Arapaho of his supernatural abilities as he conjured his spirit into the sparkling heavens and spoke directly to God. That night, the fires around the campsites glistened with sparkling coals and smoke drifted upwards across the reservation sky. Seeing the risk of being discovered.

Speaker 1:

The chiefs of the Quartz and Hoia tribe slipped out of the camp undetected. They rode hard under the threat of being followed by a hostile faction who would have indeed killed them for not committing to the war movement. Their destination was the Darlington Indian Reservation near Fort Sill. A Cheyenne peace faction had gathered at the Darlington Indian Reservation when two chiefs of the Quartz and Hoia tribes arrived to report an Indian uprising. Standing at the peace council was Colonel Davidson, stationed at Fort Sill, striking Eagle, and Chief Little Robe.

Speaker 1:

When the two chiefs entered the peace council, little Robe was explaining the inequity under which his people were living. �your people make big talk�, he said, �and sometimes make war. If the Indian kills a white man�s ox to keep his wife and children from starving, what do you think my people ought to say when they see their buffalo killed by your race, when you are not hungry? Now the great tribes of the plains have joined together. My friends who have just joined us, the chiefs from the Quartz and Hoia have just left the camps of the war faction led by the great Quana Parker. They are here to warn you. If you do not stop the white hunter from poaching our buffalo, a war is unavoidable.

Speaker 1:

After Colonel Davidson, known as Blackjack, was told the Indian camps were approaching a tipping point of resentment, he insisted that all of the Indians off the reservation return immediately. At the peace council, seated next to Little Robe was Striking Eagle, who spoke up when hearing Davidson's order. �the buffalo is our money�, explained Striking Eagle. �we understand the Medicine Lodge treaty is being broken by the buffalo hunters near Adobe Walls. The buffalo is our only resource which to buy what we need to receive from the government�. Incensed by the threatening words of Little Robe, colonel Davidson repeated his orders for all Indians off the reservation were to return within two days. Striking Eagle could only agree to keep his people on their reservation and stated �The government is not meeting our needs. But yet you do not ensue the white hunter who kill and steal our buffaloes. The buffalo are our cattle, given to us by the great father above. The great father provides us meat to eat and things to wear. Now my people have become discontent with your ways. They must protect what the great father above has given us�.

Speaker 1:

At the conclusion of the peace council, colonel Davidson called for a reliable scout by the name of Amos Chapman. Chapman, stationed out of Fort Supply, as an interpreter, was familiar with the Texas Panhandle country. He was also familiar with the native culture of the American tribes. During the early 1870s, while keeping whiskey peddlers off the reservation, he married Mary Longneck, a daughter of the Cheyenne chief stone calf, and lived for a time among her tribe. Davidson's decision was now imminent. Chapman was to ride to Fort Supply and muster up a cavalry unit to warn the buffalo hunters at Adobe Walls.

Speaker 1:

It was a good day's ride to Fort Supply from the Darlington Reservation. It was the evening of June 18th when several hunters had come in to celebrate our return to the range, telling stories of past experiences and joking about how much money we would have when the hunt was over. It was about this time when Amos Chapman and six army regulars from Fort Supply arrived. They spent the afternoon with Rath, charlie Myers and Jim Hanrahan. What we were not told by the three merchants was the purpose of Chapman's mission. Chapman was to inform the merchants to expect a massive Indian attack on the morning after the next full moon.

Speaker 1:

The three merchants decided to keep the secret to themselves. If word got around, the hunters might clear out, leaving the valuable stock of supplies defenseless. To keep Chapman's mission a secret, the soldiers agreed to tell the rest of the hunters they were looking for horse thieves. This made up story by the soldiers caused problems for some of the hunters who were guilty of past horse pinching. These hunters took offense to Chapman being in their camp and began talking about an evening lynching.

Speaker 1:

Before the upset hunters could get to Chapman, hanrahan convinced John Wesley Moore to let Chapman bed down overnight in the Moor Wagon. Hanrahan told John about Chapman's message of a possible Indian attack. The next morning Moore left for the range to fetch his brother. Chapman returned to fort supply with the soldiers and Rath, along with Myers, made ready a shipment of hides. That's it for now. Remember to check out our Wild West Podcast shows on iTunes Podcast or WildWestPodcastbussproutcom. We would like to conclude our show by thanking our sponsor, boothillproductionscom, and if you would like to sponsor our show, just send us an email at WildWestPodcastcom. Thanks for listening to our podcast. This podcast is licensed under a Creative Commons attribute non-commercial license. You can learn more about the legends of Dodge City by visiting our website at worldfamousgunfighterscom or boothillproductionscom.

Hunting Buffaloes in the Wild West
The Buffalo Hunt and Stampede
Indians Gather for Sundance, Potential Conflict
Soldiers Brought to Fort Supply