Chapter 17
Exploring South, 6K
(The Caddo Tribes, KS, OK, 1374)
With the coming of spring, it was time for Juchi and me to get ready our separate expeditions. Among my cartography students, were a Nimipu and a Salst, Kulkulstuhah and Tahhachet, respectively. Since they had to return to their tribes to report anyway, I prevailed on them to follow the Mongol upstream until it turned south and map their way along one of its tributaries and on back to their homes. They both agreed, pleased that I had such confidence in them. They were both determined to return with more recruits in the fall, and I urged them to fill in some of my blank spots on their return. Trehero, my Nomo guide, had also shown some talent for mapmaking and had agreed to return home along the more southerly route through the drier country, which we had avoided the year before. He also said that he’d be back in the fall and promised to look for new way back. Shingabaossin and Pesequan would accompany Juchi, the former all the way and the latter would map the northern shore of Lake Gichigami and as much else in that area as time permitted. Mehkwasskwan, my best pupil and a Kensistenoug, would finish mapping the river that emptied into Lake Winnipeg and would continue on to map the areas around the lake. Mahohivas would spend the summer mapping the other tributaries of the Absaroke River. Woksihi would go back up the Chahicks River Juchi had followed the year before, map the northern tributary, and try to follow another river back to the Mongol. Of my other students, two Inuna-ina, Watang’a and Desthewa, and Anawangmani, an Ocheti shakowin, would accompany Juchi and fan out as soon as Shingabaossin felt they were ready. Ahmukikini my first Siksika student, Chiwat, a Dine, and Pakonkya, a Ka-i-gwu, would stay with me.
A few soldiers would also accompany each of us; I took along a few Ocheti shakowin and Juchi a few Anishinabe. Talaswaima, the Hopitu-shinumu, wanted to come with me, and Kai Otokan, a Siksika, wanted to go with Juchi. I picked up a few others in the Owl Ordu, including Hishkowits, who had decided to join us. We both set out in mid spring, again admonished by Kaidu to return in time for the fall campaign. My group moved easily down to the Owl Ordu giving the ice a chance to clear the river. The river was still swift and deep, so we crossed on the round hide boats of the Numakiki (many of whom had moved to the Owl Ordu) much as we had crossed the Kimooenim the year before. I decided that the Anishinabe boats were better than these or those of the Nimipu. Once across the Mongol, we moved a little west to return to the plain, as there was an almost continuous forest in that spot. To that end we followed upstream a good-sized river (I named the Owl River, in honor of the nearby Ordu) that joined the Mongol just above where we crossed. It seemed to be bordered by forested bottoms, so we went up the slope and came out on a more open country with scattered stands of trees. We turned a little west of south. We passed a couple of abandoned Hotcangara villages in clearings along this river.
On the second day, we crossed a small tree-lined river that flowed southeast. Two days later, we came upon larger tree-lined river, but this one had been largely cleared on both banks a little distance upstream from us, and on the plain above the cleared river bottom, we could see what looked like a Hotcangara village. The houses, however, looked more like the earth lodges of the Dzitsiistas or the Nimipu, although I couldn’t see them clearly enough from this angle. Using the trees to screen our approach, we got closer for a better look. We could just see some of the people on the far side of the river. The men wore only breechcloths and shaved most of their heads except for small ridge in the middle that had been dressed to stand up like a horn. The women wore their hair braided and either had robes on or were bathing in the river. Hishkowits told me not to worry; these were the Chahiksichahiks whom Juchi had encountered last year. I decided to go back downstream out of sight and cross the river, gain the plateau on the far side, and then approach the village in full view, so no threat could be perceived. The river was not at all easy to cross, and we were swept downriver quite a distance. So it was twilight by the time we approached the village.
We were seen, of course, but the openness and deliberateness of our approach, gave them pause, and they waited patiently for our odd party to enter. They were very puzzled by our horses and our appearance. Hishkowits spoke to them in his language, which was close enough to theirs, and we were warmly welcomed. They had heard rumors about us from Hishkowits’ people and had been wondering if we’d come. We were ushered into the chief whose name was Sharitarish. He seemed to be in complete control and did not rely on anyone for advice. Once he decided he could understand Hishkowits and me satisfactorily, he ordered everyone out except for us. He then had his women serve us a meal and passed around the weed before we talked. The house was an earth lodge of the Nimipu type, but access was by means of a long tunneled ramp rather than a roof hole. The inside was also about three feet into the ground, but was square shaped with rounded corners. The lodge was fairly large, with a fire pit in the center and beds around the walls except for some sort of shrine at the part of the wall opposite the entrance.
As soon as the weed was burned up, our host asked if we were the people who had destroyed the Pashohan. Hishkowits explained he meant the Hotcangara, and I admitted that we were. He wanted to know why we had done it, and I replied because they had attacked us without provocation and had treated one of our men shamefully. He thought we had perhaps been too severe, and I explained that we only killed the warriors that attacked us. Finally, he wanted to know why we had come to his village. I explained the usual, and he listened intently. He asked for the alternative to joining us. I replied either war or peace. They did not have to join us, and as long as they didn’t impede our movements, we would not interfere with them. After some thought he told me that for his part he would prefer to remain independent but trade with us especially for the interesting horses. I explained that we didn’t trade horses but would give them only to our allies and confederates. He grudgingly agreed that that was prudent and explained that his people were already a confederacy of villages extending for some distance to the north and west. I replied that I knew of his people; some of them in the northwest had already sent observers. Perhaps he had heard of this. He had not and was more than a little miffed. He asked Hishkowits what his people had decided to do. He replied that they were still considering. Sharitarish then told me that there was a related tribe to the southeast with which his group was friendly. It would be best, he felt, if my proposal was presented to his confederacy as a whole, and pending that outcome, to their neighbors. He would also need to make some discreet inquiries as to why his fellow tribesmen to the northwest had not informed him about us.
I thought that was a good idea and congratulated him on his wisdom and diplomacy. Hishkowits gave me a look before he passed on that last bit. Our host promised to set up a meeting of the confederacy at a village some distance to the northwest in about a moon. Meanwhile, he suggested I try to learn much more of his language. I agreed and asked for the extended services of an instructor. He agreed and we were assigned a man named Tahirussawichi as an instructor and one of their houses for our stay.
The next day runners were sent in several directions (mostly north and west), and I took language lessons while my men went hunting, much to the edification of our hosts. I sent my apprentices to map the river on which the village was located. Like most of the local languages, this one was not at all simple to learn, although my smattering of Tanish helped. One would assume there would be more similarity among languages than we had found in this land. Although many were similar in some respects, distance seemed to effect vocabularies and especially pronunciation. I wondered how many more such languages we’d find. Still, I had a good ear and picked this one up fairly well over the next fifteen days. I regretted not having mastered the Tanish language, since it would have made things easier, and promised myself I would spend the coming winter learning more of the local languages. In the Ordu, Mongol had become the second language of all of our recruits, mostly because so many of our things had no name in the local languages. They had all learned the language quite well, but still retained their own. I suppose this had made me a little lazy about learning new languages.
While we were in the village, I noticed that these people had the most complex religion I had yet seen in the new land. All of the other tribes had shamans much like ours and were on the whole more spiritual or even more mystical than we were, but while they had special prayers and chants and several different demigods or spirits they honored, they believed in a principle God much like ours. The Chahiksichahiks, while their beliefs were not unlike the others, did seem to give much more power to their shamans, who were more properly priests. They were much given to ritual of dance, songs, and poetry. The more I could understand their language the more I got the impression that they were worshiping heavenly bodies, especially the sun. They had a young girl in the village, who was being lavished with attention. Tahirussawichi told me she was dedicated to the Morning Star and would have a prominent role to play in the ceremony for the Morning Star on the solstice. It was just as well for the sake of my mission that I didn’t ask what the ceremony entailed. I learned some years later what the fate of the child had been. It seems on the solstice, they strip the girl and paint her half white and half black, then tie her to a wooden frame out in their fields. When the morning star rose, the shamans would murder the child with arrow, knife, and fire; then all the males in the village would shoot arrows into her body, and it would be left to fertilize the fields. I have often wondered what I would have done had I been interested enough in rituals at the time to ask what they planned to do. I remembered being puzzled that the Nivkh would capture and raise a bear cub for a year treating it like a pet and lavishing it with food and attention; then on their given day they would ritually kill it. But to do that with a human child would have been to me at that time, unthinkable. I had much to learn about our neighbors. Indeed, by the time I learned the truth about this practice, I was only mildly shocked.
Once I was comfortable with the Chahiksichahiks language, I suggested to our host that perhaps we should move on to the village where we would meet with the chiefs. He agreed, although he felt we would be early. We set out the next morning, and nine days later, we came to a very wide river, but Sharitarish told me we didn’t have to cross it yet. We moved northwest along this river to near its source, crossed over it, and continued north to an east-flowing river. From my maps I thought this was the Owl River and asked if it continued east to a larger river. Sharitarish explained that it joined a larger river about a days’ walk to the east. That river joined a still larger river far to the east. We would be crossing both rivers to reach our destination. We crossed the first river, then continued north a few days before reaching the second river (the Owl), which we followed upstream another day before crossing it just below the village. We were early, but not by more than two days. I spent the time mapping the area. The village was already crowded, but more people were arriving all the time. Some came on foot, but many arrived by dugout boats, much like those of the Nimipu. They used face and body paint, but no tattooing, and all were skimpily dressed, but ornately decorated. Some had what looked like red-stained duck down stuck on their horn-shaped hairstyle. Most wore gorgets of stone or shell. Some had necklaces of small shells, leading me to ask if the ocean was nearby. They told me it was quite some distance away yet to the southeast. I was surprised that it was to the southeast, but then I didn’t realize there would be another Great Sea. My disparate group aroused quite a bit of interest, especially me. In fact, only the horses were more of an attraction.
Finally, we got around to the meeting. I was ushered into a particularly large one of their houses that easily accommodated the group of chiefs. There seemed to be a time-honored order in which the chiefs sat, so I asked Sharitarish where I should sit, and he placed me closest to the entrance. The nawak’osis was passed around, and at length Sharitarish spoke. He explained that he had called the meeting to present me to the chiefs since I had a proposal for a new alliance. He explained that I was from the tribe that had destroyed the Pashohan, but that they had invited the disaster by insulting us. He further explained that if they joined us we would share the wondrous animal that gave us remarkable mobility, greatly enhancing the hunt as he, himself, had witnessed. He added rather testily that the same offer had been made earlier to some of the villages in the northwest and no council had been called. He then invited me to explain my offer fully.
I spoke to them at length, explaining that we had come to their land to bring peace and unite the tribes. Some had joined us completely and others had confederated with us. The Pashohan or Hotcangara had attacked us, or we would have never destroyed them. As it was even they would be given one more chance to mend their ways. If they receive us graciously this fall, we could make peace, if not they would be annihilated. I thanked them for receiving me so graciously and assured them they had nothing to fear from us, even if they did not join. We could not, of course, aid people who might one day turn that aid against us, but we would take no action against them unless they broke the peace. On the other hand, I pointed out the advantages of joining us, not only the horse, but also iron weapons. At this point I passed around a knife, and I could see they were impressed.
One after the other commented, most favorably, including Starapat, the chief of the village that had received Juchi the year before. He apologized for not calling a meeting explaining that he first wanted to make sure all was as we said. Still, I could see there was an unspoken concern among them. Finally, one of them got to the point. He and his colleagues were chiefs among their people, like Kaidu was among us. If they joined us, they would no longer be chiefs, they would be subordinate to my chief, or, even worse, to several chiefs. It was a heavy price for them to pay to bring my innovations to their people. I explained that as our confederates they would lose no power. Their young men would train with us, but then return to them, only to be recalled when absolutely necessary. Similarly, they could call on us should some other tribe be attacking them, and we would rush to their aid. They could remain in their villages as chiefs, or join us and be leaders and still get all benefits. If their young men trained with us, another chief pointed out, they would likely choose to remain with us. One could not long be a chief of a village with no young men. I was impressed that he had so easily seen through Kaidu’s stratagem, but I kept up the fiction, pointing out that while indeed some of the confederated tribes’ young men had joined us, certainly most had not. Surely most of their young men would feel the same obligation to return. I could see that they were not so sure, but would be embarrassed to admit it. After a bit of silence, Sharitarish told the assembly that the benefits were worth the risk, and for his part, he would send his son among the young men from his village to make sure at least one would return. This stirred them all up, and one by one they all agreed to confederate.
They wanted to send some men right away and more in the fall, so anxious were they for the horses. I agreed and detailed Tahca Ushte, one of the Ocheti shakowin soldiers, to lead them back to the Eagle Ordu. I also requested that Tahirussawichi (whom I had taught some Mongol) go along to interpret. Then I asked about their allies to the south. They told me that I would have to talk to them myself, but they would, of course, send a guide with me to make the necessary introductions. Their allies called themselves the Kitikiti’sh, and their language was very similar to that of the Chahiksichahiks. I was presented with a charming young fellow who was called Pitalesharo. He would lead me to the Kitikiti’sh.
The next morning, Tahca Ushte and Tahirussawichi remained behind to await the recruits while the rest of us accompanied Sharitarish back to his village on the way to the Kitikitish . I urged the others to return along this river and sent Ahmukikini along to map it. We retraced our path to Sharitarish’s village, and I named that river that joined the Owl after him, for all his help. We regained his village and, after a suitable feast, took our leave and continued downstream. Within two days, we arrived at our first Kitikiti’sh village. Instead of earth mounds, the houses looked like grass mounds. And the number of them was remarkable. There must have been about a thousand clustered along the bank above the cleared river bottom. The houses were about fifteen feet high and about twenty-five feet in diameter. Inside, there were wooden beds around the sides with painted hide curtains for privacy. There was no smoke hole, but the smoke would vent through the grass roof. Each house had an open arbor with a raised wooden floor where the people spent the day and another arbor where they stored dried meat and vegetables. There were also raised platforms, smaller than those of the Hotcangara, but also capped with a building, which turned out to be a sort of shrine, attended by shamans, or perhaps it would be more correct to call them priests. The other major difference was that the people were heavily tattooed. Enough, in fact, that their skin looked darker than that of the Chahiksichahiks. Otherwise, they were just like them, same scant clothing and same decorations. I had no trouble communicating with their chief, Nar-hax-to-wey. He decided it would be best to call a meeting of the chiefs, just as their neighbors had. They were not spread out as much and could get together in about twenty days. Again we would go on to a more central village about five days’ walk downstream.
I used the time to explore around a bit. There were some mountains to the southeast, and I spent a few days looking around for minerals. I found some coal but nothing else. The mountains were heavily wooded with pine joining the hardwoods on the higher slopes. Mapping was not easy. I also found some strange animals. One looked like a very large rat. It could hang from a tree limb by its tail. Pitalesharo told me they weren’t fit to eat. Another odd creature looked like a fat fox with a ringed tail and a dark band over its eyes. Pitalesharo assured me that it was also not fit to eat. Of course, he didn’t think fish and birds were fit to eat either, so who knew, but I wasn’t hunting anyway.
In due course, we went to the meeting, and it had the same result. They had the same misgivings, but reluctantly came to the same conclusion, and they also suggested that I make my presentation to the principle tribe of the neighboring Hasinai confederacy to the south, the Kadohadacho. If I could win them over, all the other tribes of the confederacy would also join. They promised to send one of their men with me to guide and introduce me. One of the chiefs, Howitscahde, introduced me to his son, Isadowa. It seemed they couldn’t send just anyone to present me to the Kadohadacho. Meanwhile, I had to detail another of my Ocheti shakowin, Ptehe Woptuh’a, to lead their young men to the Eagle Ordu.
We went downstream southward along the Kitikitish River (I had decided to name it for them) for four days spending each night at another village of the Kitikiti’sh. We stayed west of the river in the open prairie rather than negotiate the woods on the east. On the fifth day we reached the juncture of the Kitikitish with a larger river from the northwest. Once across it, we could be in Kadohadacho country (so I named it after them). Crossing the river would require boats, so we went upstream until we found a village. It was not Kitikiti’sh, but rather one of the related tribes. Some of the people had oddly shaped heads, flat in the rear and sloping in the front to form something of broad point on top. It gave them an unsettling appearance, and I was hard-pressed not to stare. I wondered if this was what the Nimipu meant about the pointed heads of the Salst. Isadowa said that the deformation was intentional, achieved by means of a rigid crib board when they were babies. Not all of the Kadohadacho indulged in the practice since it was derived from tribes in the east and caused the babies much discomfort. I asked him how it is the Kadohadacho became preeminent, but he didn’t know. He said it was always that way. Even though his people were not members of the Hasinai Confederacy, they, too, respected the position of the Kadohadacho, and deferred to them. It sounded like I would be meeting the closest thing to a king this land had to offer so far. We were taken across the river in the dugout boats, then continued south passing some of the Kadohadacho villages.
We arrived at another river joining the Kadohadacho from the southwest that was fordable. I named it for Isadowa. After the Isadowa joined the Kadohadacho the latter turned more east, and before long we could see a very large town on the bluff above the river bottom. As we climbed the bluff, a large crowd assembled to gawk. I could see no difference between these people and the Kitikiti’sh, either in their appearance or their houses, except for the occasional deformed head. There were more mounds, and they were much higher, but otherwise, I could not detect their preeminence from appearances. We went to a large open square in the middle of the town and crossing it came to the base of one of the mounds. Isadowa went up the ramp to a large house on its summit. While he was gone ever more of the townsfolk gathered to observe us. Finally, he returned and beckoned me up the ramp.
The house on top the ramp was taller and wider than any I had seen so far, but otherwise it had the same layout. The chief, Owixa, was of middle age, perhaps forty from the look of him, the youngest chief I had yet seen. He had a muscular build and was heavily tattooed on all exposed skin. He wore an elaborate headdress with feathers, shells, and fur and wore a beautifully carved shell gorget. A cloak made of brilliant feathers lay to one side. He bid me sit down, and one of his servants handed him an elaborate container for the nawak’osis. The stem was covered with the green neck feathers from one of the local ducks, and the bowl was carved into the shape of a kind of sea creature from its tail, perhaps a seal. After the weed was burned out, we sat in silence a moment.
“You are a strange-looking person, riding on the back of a strange-looking animal,” he began. “Your people have united the tribes of the north and scattered the Pashohan across the Great River. You have even seduced away our relatives to the northwest. And now you come to seduce me as well. Yours is a small tribe made numerous by alliance; this is a large confederation made numerous by relation. Why should we be joined to you? Do you think we should fear you? Your animals would not help you on our rivers and in our forests. Your weapons are good, but against our numbers, they will not help you. Do you think you can conquer us?”
“No, of course not,” I replied evenly, although I was surprised at the hostility. “We are not bent on conquest. We are new to the land, and we have many advances that we would be happy to share with those who will ally with us. We do insist on alliance, because otherwise our advances could be turned against us. But alliance is not domination. It would be an alliance among equals. You would rule in your land, and we would rule in our land.”
“It seems to me that you rule over a lot of land already.” He eyed me suspiciously. “How much land do you intend to rule? Will you cross the Great River after the Hotcangara and continue? Just what are your intentions?”
“We wish to explore the land.” I was impressed by this man’s keen grasp of the situation. “And find out who our neighbors are and what their disposition is toward us. If we are received courteously, but our overtures are rebuffed, we have no quarrel. If we are insulted, our honor demands a response. The Hotcangara are the only people we have attacked, and even in their case, we are willing to make peace. We are no threat to any people who receive us in peace. We offer alliance to mutual advantage or peace and respect. It is others who choose war.”
“It is no great thing”—he shrugged—“to offer peace to a people whose warriors you have all but destroyed. The Pashohan are not fools. They will make peace if you let them. You have already divided them and taken many of them into your tribe. You will greatly enlarge your numbers with them. How do I know that you will not then march them down here to attack me if I decline your alliance?”
“It is not our way,” I protested. “We want to unite or ally with all the tribes in the land and produce a people that thrive in peace and strength.”
“Young men need wars.” He studied me. “If you achieve your design, your warriors will become weak from peace. Then anyone could destroy you. Besides, it may well be that this noble intention is held by your chief, but what will happen when he dies? Perhaps his successor will have different ideas. Nobility never lasts for long; it is always replaced by either weakness or tyranny. Which will it be for your people?”
“Your views are pessimistic.” I shrugged. “And at the same time, history would support you. But it need not be that way. If your people join ours, they would have equal say in our next leader, for we all choose him. Besides, yours is a great and powerful nation. If we turned on you, even if we prevailed, we would be too weak to rule anything. But do not fear that peace begets weakness, for peace only prevails in the interior, never on the borders. Our young men will always find challenges. This is a big land.”
“You are clever for a young man.” He almost smiled. “I can see why your chief sends you to seduce us. Still, if we do confederate with you and send our young men to train with your warriors, we will kindle the flame of our own destruction. I am well aware of how seductive power is. Our young men will feel a new power as your warriors. I have heard about your battles in the north. They are spoken of with awe. It is undeserved awe, but it is awe, nevertheless. If we send you our young men, they will not return, and we both know that. So your alliance would mean our destruction. Why should I willingly destroy my tribe and my position?”
“It need not be that way,” I protested. “Some may stay, but most will return. It has been that way with the others who have confederated. Your people are very sophisticated and may find our people too rustic. The people who joined us are much more primitive than you. It is more likely that you would absorb us if you joined than the other way around.”
“You are much too clever,” he chucked gently. “I will do this much. I will send with you my younger brother. He is very shrewd and will stay with you for a year. At the end of that year, return here with him, and I will decide what to do.”
With that he sent an assistant to get his brother. Meanwhile, I agreed and complimented him on his wisdom. Soon, the assistant returned with a man about my age. He was only lightly tattooed, but seemed to be darker than his brother. He also had a rather large, hooked nose. His only ornament was a gorget made of obsidian cut in a star pattern. He seemed to walk oddly, and my attention was drawn to his feet. His right foot had only a heel, but he held himself proudly, so I assumed that it was a battle wound. He was presented to me as Adihanin, and his mission was explained to him. He agreed immediately and turned to look me over. I thanked his brother, and Adihanin and I both went back down the ramp again. Many of the gawkers were happy to see Adihanin and waved to and chatted with him. He told me that he would need a day to get ready for the trip and took us to a large guesthouse to wait for him. Isadowa assured me that this was a very positive response and that from all I had told him about our people, surely Adihanin would report back favorably. I asked if he knew anything about the latter, but he said he didn’t. I would have to find out about him on my own.