Guides and Hunters. Delawares and Shawnees. Khebirs. Black Beaver.
Anecdotes. Domestic Troubles. Lodges. Similarity of Prairie Tribes to
the Arabs. Method of making War. Tracking and pursuing Indians. Method
of attacking them. Telegraphing by Smokes.
DELAWARES AND SHAWNEES.
It is highly important that parties
making expeditions through an unexplored country should
secure the services of the best guides and hunters,
and I know of none who are superior to the Delawares
and Shawnee Indians. They have been with me upon
several different occasions, and I have invariably
found them intelligent, brave, reliable, and in every
respect well qualified to fill their positions.
They are endowed with those keen and wonderful powers
in woodcraft which can only be acquired by instinct,
practice, and necessity, and which are possessed by
no other people that I have heard of, unless it be
the khebirs or guides who escort the caravans across
the great desert of Sahara.
General E. Dumas, in his treatise
upon the “Great Desert,” published in
Paris, 1856, in speaking of these guides, says:
“The khebir is always a man
of intelligence, of tried probity, bravery, and skill.
He knows how to determine his position from the appearance
of the stars; by the experience of other journeys he
has learned all about the roads, wells, and pastures;
the dangers of certain passes, and the means of avoiding
them; all the chiefs whose territories it is necessary
to pass through; the salubrity of the different localities;
the remedies against diseases; the treatment of fractures,
and the antidotes to the venom of snakes and scorpions.
“In these vast solitudes, where
nothing seems to indicate the route, where the wind
covers up all traces of the track with sand, the khebir
has a thousand ways of directing himself in the right
course. In the night, when there are no stars
in sight, by the simple inspection of a handful of
grass, which he examines with his fingers, which he
smells and tastes, he informs himself of his locale
without ever being lost or wandering.
“I saw with astonishment that
our conductor, although he had but one eye, and that
defective, recognized perfectly the route; and Leon,
the African, states that the conductor of his caravan
became blind upon the journey from ophthalmia, yet
by feeling the grass and sand he could tell when we
were approaching an inhabited place.
“Our guide had all the qualities
which make a good khebir. He was young, large,
and strong; he was a master of arms; his eye commanded
respect, and his speech won the heart. But if
in the tent he was affable and winning, once en
route he spoke only when it was necessary, and
never smiled.”
The Delawares are but a minute remnant
of the great Algonquin family, whose early traditions
declare them to be the parent stock from which the
other numerous branches of the Algonquin tribes originated.
And they are the same people whom the first white
settlers found so numerous upon the banks of the Delaware.
When William Penn held his council
with the Delawares upon the ground where the city
of Philadelphia now stands, they were as peaceful and
unwarlike in their habits as the Quakers themselves.
They had been subjugated by the Five Nations, forced
to take the appellation of squaws, and forego
the use of arms; but after they moved west, beyond
the influence of their former masters, their naturally
independent spirit revived, they soon regained their
lofty position as braves and warriors, and the male
squaws of the Iroquois soon became formidable
men and heroes, and so have continued to the present
day. Their war-path has reached the shores of
the Pacific Ocean on the west, Hudson’s Bay
on the north, and into the very heart of Mexico on
the south.
They are not clannish in their dispositions
like most other Indians, nor by their habits confined
to any given locality, but are found as traders, trappers,
or hunters among most of the Indian tribes inhabiting
our continent. I even saw them living with the
Mormons in Utah. They are among the Indians as
the Jews among the whites, essentially wanderers.
The Shawnees have been associated
with the Delawares 185 years. They intermarry
and live as one people. Their present places of
abode are upon the Missouri River, near Fort Leavenworth,
and in the Choctaw Territory, upon the Canadian River,
near Fort Arbuckle. They are familiar with many
of the habits and customs of their pale-faced neighbors,
and some of them speak the English language, yet many
of their native characteristics tenaciously cling
to them.
Upon one occasion I endeavored to
teach a Delaware the use of the compass. He seemed
much interested in its mechanism, and very attentively
observed the oscillations of the needle. He would
move away a short distance, then return, keeping his
eyes continually fixed upon the needle and the uniform
position into which it settled. He did not, however,
seem to comprehend it in the least, but regarded the
entire proceeding as a species of necromantic performance
got up for his especial benefit, and I was about putting
away the instrument when he motioned me to stop, and
came walking toward it with a very serious but incredulous
countenance, remarking, as he pointed his finger toward
it, “Maybe so he tell lie sometime.”
The ignorance evinced by this Indian
regarding the uses of the compass is less remarkable
than that of some white men who are occasionally met
upon the frontier.
While surveying Indian lands in the
wilds of Western Texas during the summer of 1854,
I encountered a deputy surveyor traveling on foot,
with his compass and chain upon his back. I saluted
him very politely, remarking that I presumed he was
a surveyor, to which he replied, “I reckon,
stranger, I ar that thar individoal.”
I had taken the magnetic variation
several times, always with nearly the same results
(about 10 deg. 20’); but, in order to verify
my observations, I was curious to learn how they accorded
with his own working, and accordingly inquired of
him what he made the variation of the compass in that
particular locality. He seemed struck with astonishment,
took his compass from his back and laid it upon a log
near by, then facing me, and pointing with his hand
toward it, said,
“Straanger, do yer see that
thar instru-ment?” to which I replied
in the affirmative. He continued,
“I’ve owned her well-nigh
goin on twenty year. I’ve put her through
the perarries and through the timber, and now look
yeer, straanger, you can just bet your life on’t
she never var-ried arry time, and if you’ll
just follow her sign you’ll knock the centre
outer the north star. She never lies, she don’t.”
He seemed to consider my interrogatory
as a direct insinuation that his compass was an imperfect
one, and hence his indignation. Thinking that
I should not get any very important intelligence concerning
the variation of the needle from this surveyor, I
begged his pardon for questioning the accuracy of
his instru-ment, bid him good-morning, and
continued on my journey.
BLACK BEAVER.
In 1849 I met with a very interesting
specimen of the Delaware tribe whose name was Black
Beaver. He had for ten years been in the employ
of the American Fur Company, and during this time
had visited nearly every point of interest within
the limits of our unsettled territory. He had
set his traps and spread his blanket upon the head
waters of the Missouri and Columbia; and his wanderings
had led him south to the Colorado and Gila, and thence
to the shores of the Pacific in Southern California.
His life had been that of a veritable cosmopolite,
filled with scenes of intense and startling interest,
bold and reckless adventure. He was with me two
seasons in the capacity of guide, and I always found
him perfectly reliable, brave, and competent.
His reputation as a resolute, determined, and fearless
warrior did not admit of question, yet I have never
seen a man who wore his laurels with less vanity.
When I first made his acquaintance
I was puzzled to know what to think of him. He
would often, in speaking of the Prairie Indians, say
to me,
“Captain, if you have a fight,
you mustn’t count much on me, for I’ze
a big coward. When the fight begins I ’spect
you’ll see me run under the cannon; Injun mighty
’fraid of big gun.”
I expressed my surprise that he should,
if what he told me was true, have gained such a reputation
as a warrior; whereupon he informed me that many years
previous, when he was a young man, and before he had
ever been in battle, he, with about twenty white men
and four Delawares, were at one of the Fur Company’s
trading-posts upon the Upper Missouri, engaged in
trapping beaver. While there, the stockade fort
was attacked by a numerous band of Blackfeet Indians,
who fought bravely, and seemed determined to annihilate
the little band that defended it.
After the investment had been completed,
and there appeared no probability of the attacking
party’s abandoning their purpose, “One
d d fool Delaware” (as Black
Beaver expressed it) proposed to his countrymen to
make a sortie, and thereby endeavor to effect an impression
upon the Blackfeet. This, Beaver said, was the
last thing he would ever have thought of suggesting,
and it startled him prodigiously, causing him to tremble
so much that it was with difficulty he could stand.
He had, however, started from home
with the fixed purpose of becoming a distinguished
brave, and made a great effort to stifle his emotion.
He assumed an air of determination, saying that was
the very idea he was just about to propose; and, slapping
his comrades upon the back, started toward the gate,
telling them to follow. As soon as the gate was
passed, he says, he took particular care to keep in
the rear of the others, so that, in the event of a
retreat, he would be able to reach the stockade first.
They had not proceeded far before
a perfect shower of arrows came falling around them
on all sides, but, fortunately, without doing them
harm. Not fancying this hot reception, those in
front proposed an immediate retreat, to which he most
gladly acceded, and at once set off at his utmost
speed, expecting to reach the fort first. But
he soon discovered that his comrades were more fleet,
and were rapidly passing and leaving him behind.
Suddenly he stopped and called out to them, “Come
back here, you cowards, you squaws; what for you
run away and leave brave man to fight alone?”
This taunting appeal to their courage turned them
back, and, with their united efforts, they succeeded
in beating off the enemy immediately around them,
securing their entrance into the fort.
Beaver says when the gate was closed
the captain in charge of the establishment grasped
him warmly by the hand, saying, “Black Beaver,
you are a brave man; you have done this day what no
other man in the fort would have the courage to do,
and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
In relating the circumstance to me
he laughed most heartily, thinking it a very good
joke, and said after that he was regarded as a brave
warrior.
The truth is, my friend Beaver was
one of those few heroes who never sounded his own
trumpet; yet no one that knows him ever presumed to
question his courage.
At another time, while Black Beaver
remained upon the head waters of the Missouri, he
was left in charge of a “cache”
consisting of a quantity of goods buried to prevent
their being stolen by the Indians. During the
time he was engaged upon this duty he amused himself
by hunting in the vicinity, only visiting his charge
once a day. As he was making one of these periodical
visits, and had arrived upon the summit of a hill
overlooking the locality, he suddenly discovered a
large number of hostile Blackfeet occupying it, and
he supposed they had appropriated all the goods.
As soon as they espied him, they beckoned for him
to come down and have a friendly chat with them.
Knowing that their purpose was to
beguile him into their power, he replied that he did
not feel in a talking humor just at that time, and
started off in another direction, whereupon they hallooed
after him, making use of the most insulting language
and gestures, and asking him if he considered himself
a man thus to run away from his friends, and intimating
that, in their opinion, he was an old woman, who had
better go home and take care of the children.
Beaver says this roused his indignation
to such a pitch that he stopped, turned around, and
replied, “Maybe so; s’pose three or four
of you Injuns come up here alone, I’ll show
you if I’ze old womans.” They did
not, however, accept the challenge, and Beaver rode
off.
Although the Delawares generally seem
quite happy in their social relations, yet they are
not altogether exempt from some of those minor discords
which occasionally creep in and mar the domestic harmony
of their more civilized pale-faced brethren.
I remember, upon one occasion, I had
bivouacked for the night with Black Beaver, and he
had been endeavoring to while away the long hours
of the evening by relating to me some of the most thrilling
incidents of his highly-adventurous and erratic life,
when at length a hiatus in the conversation gave me
an opportunity of asking him if he was a married man.
He hesitated for some time; then looking up and giving
his forefinger a twirl, to imitate the throwing of
a lasso, replied, “One time me catch ’um
wife. I pay that woman, his modder, one
hoss one saddle one bridle two
plug tobacco, and plenty goods. I take him home
to my house got plenty meat plenty
corn plenty every thing. One time
me go take walk, maybe so three, maybe so two hours.
When I come home, that woman he say, ‘Black
Beaver, what for you go way long time?’ I say,
‘I not go nowhere; I just take one littel walk.’
Then that woman he get heap mad, and say, ’No,
Black Beaver, you not take no littel walk. I
know what for you go way; you go see nodder one
woman.’ I say, ‘Maybe not.’
Then that woman she cry long time, and all e’time
now she mad. You never seen ’Merican woman
that a-way?”
I sympathized most deeply with my
friend in his distress, and told him for his consolation
that, in my opinion, the women of his nation were
not peculiar in this respect; that they were pretty
much alike all over the world, and I was under the
impression that there were well-authenticated instances
even among white women where they had subjected themselves
to the same causes of complaint so feelingly depicted
by him. Whereupon he very earnestly asked, “What
you do for cure him? Whip him?” I replied,
“No; that, so far as my observation extended,
I was under the impression that this was generally
regarded by those who had suffered from its effects
as one of those chronic and vexatious complaints which
would not be benefited by the treatment he suggested,
even when administered in homoeopathic doses, and I
believed it was now admitted by all sensible men that
it was better in all such cases to let nature take
its course, trusting to a merciful Providence.”
At this reply his countenance assumed
a dejected expression, but at length he brightened
up again and triumphantly remarked, “I tell you,
my friend, what I do; I ketch ’um nodder
one wife when I go home.”
Black Beaver had visited St. Louis
and the small towns upon the Missouri frontier, and
he prided himself not a little upon his acquaintance
with the customs of the whites, and never seemed more
happy than when an opportunity offered to display this
knowledge in presence of his Indian companions.
It so happened, upon one occasion, that I had a Comanche
guide who bivouacked at the same fire with Beaver.
On visiting them one evening according to my usual
practice, I found them engaged in a very earnest and
apparently not very amicable conversation. On
inquiring the cause of this, Beaver answered,
“I’ve been telling this
Comanche what I seen ’mong the white folks.”
I said, “Well, Beaver, what did you tell him?”
“I tell him ‘bout the
steam-boats, and the railroads, and the heap o’
houses I seen in St. Louis.”
“Well, sir, what does he think of that?”
“He say I’ze d d fool.”
“What else did you tell him about?”
“I tell him the world is round,
but he keep all e’time say, Hush, you fool!
do you spose I’ze child? Haven’t I
got eyes? Can’t I see the prairie?
You call him round? He say, too, maybe so I tell
you something you not know before. One time my
grandfather he make long journey that way (pointing
to the west). When he get on big mountain, he
seen heap water on t’other side, jest so flat
he can be, and he seen the sun go right straight down
on t’other side. I then tell him all these
rivers he seen, all e’time the water he run;
s’pose the world flat the water he stand still.
Maybe so he not b’lieve me?”
I told him it certainly looked very
much like it. I then asked him to explain to
the Comanche the magnetic telegraph. He looked
at me earnestly, and said,
“What you call that magnetic telegraph?”
I said, “you have heard of New York and New
Orleans?”
“Oh yes,” he replied.
“Very well; we have a wire connecting
these two cities, which are about a thousand miles
apart, and it would take a man thirty days to ride
it upon a good horse. Now a man stands at one
end of this wire in New York, and by touching it a
few times he inquires of his friend in New Orleans
what he had for breakfast. His friend in New Orleans
touches the other end of the wire, and in ten minutes
the answer comes back ham and eggs.
Tell him that, Beaver.”
His countenance assumed a most comical
expression, but he made no remark until I again requested
him to repeat what I had said to the Comanche, when
he observed,
“No, captain, I not tell him
that, for I don’t b’lieve that myself.”
Upon my assuring him that such was
the fact, and that I had seen it myself, he said,
“Injun not very smart; sometimes
he’s big fool, but he holler pretty loud; you
hear him maybe half a mile; you say ’Merican
man he talk thousand miles. I ’spect you
try to fool me now, captain; maybe so you lie.”
The Indians living between the outer
white settlements and the nomadic tribes of the Plains
form intermediate social links in the chain of civilization.
The first of these occupy permanent
habitations, but the others, although they cultivate
the soil, are only resident while their crops are
growing, going out into the prairies after harvest
to spend the winter in hunting. Among the former
may be mentioned the Cherokees, Creeks, Choctaws,
and Chickasaws, and of the latter are the Delawares,
Shawnees, Kickapoos, etc., who are perfectly familiar
with the use of the rifle, and, in my judgment, would
make as formidable partisan warriors as can be found
in the universe.
THE WILD TRIBES OF THE WEST.
These are very different in their
habits from the natives that formerly occupied the
country bordering upon the Atlantic coast. The
latter lived permanently in villages, where they cultivated
the soil, and never wandered very far from them.
They did not use horses, but always made their war
expeditions on foot, and never came into action unless
they could screen themselves behind the cover of trees.
They inflicted the most inhuman tortures upon their
prisoners, but did not, that I am aware, violate the
chastity of women.
The prairie tribes have no permanent
abiding places; they never plant a seed, but roam
for hundreds of miles in every direction over the
Plains. They are perfect horsemen, and seldom
go to war on foot. Their attacks are made in
the open prairies, and when unhorsed they are powerless.
They do not, like the eastern Indians, inflict upon
their prisoners prolonged tortures, but invariably
subject all females that have the misfortune to fall
into their merciless clutches to an ordeal worse than
death.
It is highly important to every man
passing through a country frequented by Indians to
know some of their habits, customs, and propensities,
as this will facilitate his intercourse with friendly
tribes, and enable him, when he wishes to avoid a conflict,
to take precautions against coming in collision with
those who are hostile.
Almost every tribe has its own way
of constructing its lodges, encamping, making fires,
its own style of dress, by some of which peculiarities
the experienced frontiersman can generally distinguish
them.
The Osages, for example, make their
lodges in the shape of a wagon-top, of bent rods or
willows covered with skins, blankets, or the bark of
trees.
The Kickapoo lodges are made in an
oval form, something like a rounded hay-stack, of
poles set in the ground, bent over, and united at top;
this is covered with cloths or bark.
The Witchetaws, Wacos, Towackanies,
and Tonkowas erect their hunting lodges of sticks
put up in the form of the frustum of a cone and covered
with brush.
All these tribes leave the frame-work
of their lodges standing when they move from camp
to camp, and this, of course, indicates the particular
tribe that erected them.
The Delawares and Shawnees plant two
upright forked poles, place a stick across them, and
stretch a canvas covering over it, in the same manner
as with the “tente d’abri.”
The Sioux, Arapahoes, Cheyennes, Utes,
Snakes, Blackfeet, and Kioways make use of the Comanche
lodge, covered with dressed buffalo hides.
All the Prairie Indians I have met
with are the most inveterate beggars. They will
flock around strangers, and, in the most importunate
manner, ask for every thing they see, especially tobacco
and sugar; and, if allowed, they will handle, examine,
and occasionally pilfer such things as happen to take
their fancy. The proper way to treat them is
to give them at once such articles as are to be disposed
of, and then, in a firm and decided manner, let them
understand that they are to receive nothing else.
A party of Keechis once visited my
camp with their principal chief, who said he had some
important business to discuss, and demanded a council
with the capitan. After consent had been
given, he assembled his principal men, and, going
through the usual preliminary of taking a big smoke,
he arose, and with a great deal of ceremony commenced
his pompous and flowery speech, which, like all others
of a similar character, amounted to nothing, until
he touched upon the real object of his visit.
He said he had traveled a long distance over the prairies
to see and have a talk with his white brothers; that
his people were very hungry and naked. He then
approached me with six small sticks, and, after shaking
hands, laid one of the sticks in my hand, which he
said represented sugar, another signified tobacco,
and the other four, pork, flour, whisky, and blankets,
all of which he assured me his people were in great
need of, and must have. His talk was then concluded,
and he sat down, apparently much gratified with the
graceful and impressive manner with which he had executed
his part of the performance.
It then devolved upon me to respond
to the brilliant effort of the prairie orator, which
I did in something like the following manner.
After imitating his style for a short time, I closed
my remarks by telling him that we were poor infantry
soldiers, who were always obliged to go on foot; that
we had become very tired of walking, and would like
very much to ride. Furthermore, I had observed
that they had among them many fine horses and mules.
I then took two small sticks, and imitating as nearly
as possible the manner of the chief, placed one in
his hand, which I told him was nothing more or less
than a first-rate horse, and then the other, which
signified a good large mule. I closed by saying
that I was ready to exchange presents whenever it
suited his convenience.
They looked at each other for some
time without speaking, but finally got up and walked
away, and I was not troubled with them again.
INDIAN FIGHTING.
The military system, as taught and
practiced in our army up to the time of the Mexican
war, was, without doubt, efficient and well adapted
to the art of war among civilized nations. This
system was designed for the operations of armies acting
in populated districts, furnishing ample resources,
and against an enemy who was tangible, and made use
of a similar system.
The vast expanse of desert territory
that has been annexed to our domain within the last
few years is peopled by numerous tribes of marauding
and erratic savages, who are mounted upon fleet and
hardy horses, making war the business and pastime
of their lives, and acknowledging none of the ameliorating
conventionalities of civilized warfare. Their
tactics are such as to render the old system almost
wholly impotent.
To act against an enemy who is here
to-day and there to-morrow; who at one time stampedes
a herd of mules upon the head waters of the Arkansas,
and when next heard from is in the very heart of the
populated districts of Mexico, laying waste haciendas,
and carrying devastation, rapine, and murder in his
steps; who is every where without being any where;
who assembles at the moment of combat, and vanishes
whenever fortune turns against him; who leaves his
women and children far distant from the theatre of
hostilities, and has neither towns or magazines to
defend, nor lines of retreat to cover; who derives
his commissariat from the country he operates in, and
is not encumbered with baggage-wagons or pack-trains;
who comes into action only when it suits his purposes,
and never without the advantage of numbers or position with
such an enemy the strategic science of civilized nations
loses much of its importance, and finds but rarely,
and only in peculiar localities, an opportunity to
be put in practice.
Our little army, scattered as it has
been over the vast area of our possessions, in small
garrisons of one or two companies each, has seldom
been in a situation to act successfully on the offensive
against large numbers of these marauders, and has
often been condemned to hold itself almost exclusively
upon the defensive. The morale of the troops
must thereby necessarily be seriously impaired, and
the confidence of the savages correspondingly augmented.
The system of small garrisons has a tendency to disorganize
the troops in proportion as they are scattered, and
renders them correspondingly inefficient. The
same results have been observed by the French army
in Algeria, where, in 1845, their troops were, like
ours, disseminated over a vast space, and broken up
into small detachments stationed in numerous intrenched
posts. Upon the sudden appearance of Abd el Kader
in the plain of Mitidja, they were defeated with serious
losses, and were from day to day obliged to abandon
these useless stations, with all the supplies they
contained. A French writer, in discussing this
subject, says:
“We have now abandoned the fatal
idea of defending Algeria by small intrenched posts.
In studying the character of the war, the nature of
the men who are to oppose us, and of the country in
which we are to operate, we must be convinced of the
danger of admitting any other system of fortification
than that which is to receive our grand depots, our
magazines, and to serve as places to recruit and rest
our troops when exhausted by long expeditionary movements.
“These fortifications should
be established in the midst of the centres of action,
so as to command the principal routes, and serve as
pivots to expeditionary columns.
“We owe our success to a system
of war which has its proofs in twice changing our
relations with the Arabs. This system consists
altogether in the great mobility we have given to
our troops. Instead of disseminating our soldiers
with the vain hope of protecting our frontiers with
a line of small posts, we have concentrated them, to
have them at all times ready for emergencies, and since
then the fortune of the Arabs has waned, and we have
marched from victory to victory.
“This system, which has thus
far succeeded, ought to succeed always, and to conduct
us, God willing, to the peaceful possession of the
country.”
In reading a treatise upon war as
it is practiced by the French in Algeria, by Colonel
A. Laure, of the 2d Algerine Tirailleurs, published
in Paris in 1858, I was struck with the remarkable
similarity between the habits of the Arabs and those
of the wandering tribes that inhabit our Western prairies.
Their manner of making war is almost precisely the
same, and a successful system of strategic operations
for one will, in my opinion, apply to the other.
As the Turks have been more successful
than the French in their military operations against
the Arab tribes, it may not be altogether uninteresting
to inquire by what means these inferior soldiers have
accomplished the best results.
The author above mentioned, in speaking
upon this subject, says:
“In these latter days the world
is occupied with the organization of mounted infantry,
according to the example of the Turks, where, in the
most successful experiments that have been made, the
mule carries the foot-soldier.
“The Turkish soldier mounts
his mule, puts his provisions upon one side and his
accoutrements upon the other, and, thus equipped, sets
out upon long marches, traveling day and night, and
only reposing occasionally in bivouac. Arrived
near the place of operations (as near the break of
day as possible), the Turks dismount in the most profound
silence, and pass in succession the bridle of one
mule through that of another in such a manner that
a single man is sufficient to hold forty or fifty of
them by retaining the last bridle, which secures all
the others; they then examine their arms, and are
ready to commence their work. The chief gives
his last orders, posts his guides, and they make the
attack, surprise the enemy, generally asleep, and carry
the position without resistance. The operation
terminated, they hasten to beat a retreat, to prevent
the neighboring tribes from assembling, and thus avoid
a combat.
“The Turks had only three thousand
mounted men and ten thousand infantry in Algeria,
yet these thirteen thousand men sufficed to conquer
the same obstacles which have arrested us for twenty-six
years, notwithstanding the advantage we had of an
army which was successively re-enforced until it amounted
to a hundred thousand.
“Why not imitate the Turks,
then, mount our infantry upon mules, and reduce the
strength of our army?
“The response is very simple:
“The Turks are Turks that
is to say, Mussulmans and indigenous to
the country; the Turks speak the Arabic language;
the Deys of Algiers had less country to guard
than we, and they care very little about retaining
possession of it. They are satisfied to receive
a part of its revenues. They were not permanent;
their dominion was held by a thread. The Arab
dwells in tents; his magazines are in caves. When
he starts upon a war expedition, he folds his tent,
drives far away his beasts of burden, which transport
his effects, and only carries with him his horse and
arms. Thus equipped, he goes every where; nothing
arrests him; and often, when we believe him twenty
leagues distant, he is in ambush at precisely rifle
range from the flanks of his enemy.
“It may be thought the union
of contingents might retard their movements, but this
is not so. The Arabs, whether they number ten
or a hundred thousand, move with equal facility.
They go where they wish and as they wish upon a campaign;
the place of rendezvous merely is indicated, and they
arrive there.
“What calculations can be made
against such an organization as this?
“Strategy evidently loses its
advantages against such enemies; a general can only
make conjectures; he marches to find the Arabs, and
finds them not; then, again, when he least expects
it, he suddenly encounters them.
“When the Arab despairs of success
in battle, he places his sole reliance upon the speed
of his horse to escape destruction; and as he is always
in a country where he can make his camp beside a little
water, he travels until he has placed a safe distance
between himself and his enemy.”
No people probably on the face of
the earth are more ambitious of martial fame, or entertain
a higher appreciation for the deeds of a daring and
successful warrior, than the North American savages.
The attainment of such reputation is the paramount
and absorbing object of their lives; all their aspirations
for distinction invariably take this channel of expression.
A young man is never considered worthy to occupy a
seat in council until he has encountered an enemy in
battle; and he who can count the greatest number of
scalps is the most highly honored by his tribe.
This idea is inculcated from their earliest infancy.
It is not surprising, therefore, that, with such weighty
inducements before him, the young man who, as yet,
has gained no renown as a brave or warrior, should
be less discriminate in his attacks than older men
who have already acquired a name. The young braves
should, therefore, be closely watched when encountered
on the Plains.
The prairie tribes are seldom at peace
with all their neighbors, and some of the young braves
of a tribe are almost always absent upon a war excursion.
These forays sometimes extend into the heart of the
northern states of Mexico, where the Indians have
carried on successful invasions for many years.
They have devastated and depopulated a great portion
of Sonora and Chihuahua. The objects of these
forays are to steal horses and mules, and to take
prisoners; and if it so happens that a war-party has
been unsuccessful in the accomplishment of these ends,
or has had the misfortune to lose some of its number
in battle, they become reckless, and will often attack
a small party with whom they are not at war, provided
they hope to escape detection. The disgrace attendant
upon a return to their friends without some trophies
as an offset to the loss of their comrades is a powerful
incentive to action, and they extend but little mercy
to defenseless travelers who have the misfortune to
encounter them at such a conjuncture.
While en route from New Mexico to
Arkansas in 1849 I was encamped near the head of the
Colorado River, and wishing to know the character of
the country for a few miles in advance of our position,
I desired an officer to go out and make the reconnoissance.
I was lying sick in my bed at the time, or I should
have performed the duty myself. I expected the
officer would have taken an escort with him, but he
omitted to do so, and started off alone. After
proceeding a short distance he discovered four mounted
Indians coming at full speed directly toward him,
when, instead of turning his own horse toward camp,
and endeavoring to make his escape (he was well mounted),
or of halting and assuming a defensive attitude, he
deliberately rode up to them; after which the tracks
indicated that they proceeded about three miles together,
when the Indians most brutally killed and scalped my
most unfortunate but too credulous friend, who might
probably have saved his life had he not, in the kindness
of his excellent heart, imagined that the savages
would reciprocate his friendly advances. He was
most woefully mistaken, and his life paid the forfeit
of his generous and noble disposition.
I have never been able to get any
positive information as to the persons who committed
this murder, yet circumstances render it highly probable
that they were a party of young Indians who were returning
from an unsuccessful foray, and they were unable to
resist the temptation of taking the scalp and horse
of the lieutenant.
A small number of white men, in traveling
upon the Plains, should not allow a party of strange
Indians to approach them unless able to resist an
attack under the most unfavorable circumstances.
It is a safe rule, when a man finds
himself alone in the prairies, and sees a party of
Indians approaching, not to allow them to come near
him, and if they persist in so doing, to signal them
to keep away. If they do not obey, and he be
mounted upon a fleet horse, he should make for the
nearest timber. If the Indians follow and press
him too closely, he should halt, turn around, and
point his gun at the foremost, which will often have
the effect of turning them back, but he should never
draw trigger unless he finds that his life depends
upon the shot; for, as soon as his shot is delivered,
his sole dependence, unless he have time to reload,
must be upon the speed of his horse.
The Indians of the Plains, notwithstanding
the encomiums that have been heaped upon their brethren
who formerly occupied the Eastern States for their
gratitude, have not, so far as I have observed, the
most distant conception of that sentiment. You
may confer numberless benefits upon them for years,
and the more that is done for them the more they will
expect. They do not seem to comprehend the motive
which dictates an act of benevolence or charity, and
they invariably attribute it to fear or the expectation
of reward. When they make a present, it is with
a view of getting more than its equivalent in return.
I have never yet been able to discover
that the Western wild tribes possessed any of those
attributes which among civilized nations are regarded
as virtues adorning the human character. They
have yet to be taught the first rudiments of civilization,
and they are at this time as far from any knowledge
of Christianity, and as worthy subjects for missionary
enterprise, as the most untutored natives of the South
Sea Islands.
The only way to make these merciless
freebooters fear or respect the authority of our government
is, when they misbehave, first of all to chastise
them well by striking such a blow as will be felt for
a long time, and thus show them that we are superior
to them in war. They will then respect us much
more than when their good-will is purchased with presents.
The opinion of a friend of mine, who
has passed the last twenty-five years of his life
among the Indians of the Rocky Mountains, corroborates
the opinions I have advanced upon this head, and although
I do not endorse all of his sentiments, yet many of
them are deduced from long and matured experience
and critical observation. He says:
“They are the most onsartainest
varmints in all creation, and I reckon tha’r
not mor’n half human; for you never seed a human,
arter you’d fed and treated him to the best
fixins in your lodge, jist turn round and steal all
your horses, or ary other thing he could lay his hands
on. No, not adzackly. He would feel kinder
grateful, and ask you to spread a blanket in his lodge
ef you ever passed that a-way. But the Injun he
don’t care shucks for you, and is ready to do
you a heap of mischief as soon as he quits your feed.
No, Cap.,” he continued, “it’s not
the right way to give um presents to buy peace;
but ef I war governor of these yeer United States,
I’ll tell you what I’d do. I’d
invite um all to a big feast, and make b’lieve
I wanted to have a big talk; and as soon as I got
um all together, I’d pitch in and sculp
about half of um, and then t’other half
would be mighty glad to make a peace that would stick.
That’s the way I’d make a treaty with the
dog’ond, red-bellied varmints; and as sure as
you’re born, Cap., that’s the only way.”
I suggested to him the idea that there
would be a lack of good faith and honor in such a
proceeding, and that it would be much more in accordance
with my notions of fair dealing to meet them openly
in the field, and there endeavor to punish them if
they deserve it. To this he replied,
“Tain’t no use to talk
about honor with them, Cap.; they hain’t got
no such thing in um; and they won’t show
fair fight, any way you can fix it. Don’t
they kill and sculp a white man when-ar they get the
better on him? The mean varmints, they’ll
never behave themselves until you give um a clean
out and out licking. They can’t onderstand
white folks’ ways, and they won’t learn
um; and ef you treat um decently, they think
you ar afeard. You may depend on’t, Cap.,
the only way to treat Injuns is to thrash them well
at first, then the balance will sorter take to you
and behave themselves.”
The wealth of the Prairie Indians
consists almost exclusively in their horses, of which
they possess large numbers; and they are in the saddle
from infancy to old age. Horsemanship is with
them, as with the Arab of the Sahara, a necessary
part of their education. The country they occupy
is unsuited to cultivation, and their only avocations
are war, rapine, and the chase. They have no
fixed habitations, but move from place to place with
the seasons and the game. All their worldly effects
are transported in their migrations, and wherever their
lodges are pitched there is their home. They
are strangers to all cares, creating for themselves
no artificial wants, and are perfectly happy and contented
so long as the buffalo is found within the limits of
their wanderings. Every man is a soldier, and
they generally exhibit great confidence in their own
military prowess.
MEETING INDIANS.
On approaching strangers these people
put their horses at full speed, and persons not familiar
with their peculiarities and habits might interpret
this as an act of hostility; but it is their custom
with friends as well as enemies, and should not occasion
groundless alarm.
When a party is discovered approaching
thus, and are near enough to distinguish signals,
all that is necessary in order to ascertain their
disposition is to raise the right hand with the palm
in front, and gradually push it forward and back several
times. They all understand this to be a command
to halt, and if they are not hostile it will at once
be obeyed.
After they have stopped the right
hand is raised again as before, and slowly moved to
the right and left, which signifies “I do not
know you. Who are you?” As all the wild
tribes have their peculiar pantomimic signals by which
they are known, they will then answer the inquiry by
giving their signal. If this should not be understood,
they may be asked if they are friends by raising both
hands grasped in the manner of shaking hands, or by
locking the two fore-fingers firmly while the hands
are held up. If friendly, they will respond with
the same signal; but if enemies, they will probably
disregard the command to halt, or give the signal
of anger by closing the hand, placing it against the
forehead, and turning it back and forth while in that
position.
The pantomimic vocabulary is understood
by all the Prairie Indians, and when oral communication
is impracticable it constitutes the court or general
council language of the Plains. The signs are
exceedingly graceful and significant; and, what was
a fact of much astonishment to me, I discovered they
were very nearly the same as those practiced by the
mutes in our deaf and dumb schools, and were comprehended
by them with perfect facility.
The Comanche is represented by making
with the hand a waving motion in imitation of the
crawling of a snake.
The Cheyenne, or “Cut-arm,”
by drawing the hand across the arm, to imitate cutting
it with a knife.
The Arapahoes, or “Smellers,”
by seizing the nose with the thumb and fore-finger.
The Sioux, or “Cut-throats,”
by drawing the hand across the throat.
The Pawnees, or “Wolves,”
by placing a hand on each side of the forehead, with
two fingers pointing to the front, to represent the
narrow, sharp ears of the wolf.
The Crows, by imitating the flapping
of the bird’s wings with the palms of the hands.
When Indians meet a party of strangers,
and are disposed to be friendly, the chiefs, after
the usual salutations have been exchanged, generally
ride out and accompany the commander of the party some
distance, holding a friendly talk, and, at the same
time, indulging their curiosity by learning the news,
etc. Phlegmatic and indifferent as they
appear to be, they are very inquisitive and observing,
and, at the same time, exceedingly circumspect and
cautious about disclosing their own purposes.
They are always desirous of procuring,
from whomsoever they meet, testimonials of their good
behavior, which they preserve with great care, and
exhibit upon all occasions to strangers as a guarantee
of future good conduct.
On meeting with a chief of the Southern
Comanches in 1849, after going through the usual
ceremony of embracing, and assuring me that he was
the best friend the Americans ever had among the Indians,
he exhibited numerous certificates from the different
white men he had met with, testifying to his friendly
disposition. Among these was one that he desired
me to read with special attention, as he said he was
of the opinion that perhaps it might not be so complimentary
in its character as some of the others. It was
in these words:
“The bearer of this says he is
a Comanche chief, named Senaco; that he is the
biggest Indian and best friend the whites ever had;
in fact, that he is a first-rate fellow; but I believe
he is a d d rascal, so look
out for him.”
I smiled on reading the paper, and,
looking up, found the chief’s eyes intently
fixed upon mine with an expression of the most earnest
inquiry. I told him the paper was not as good
as it might be, whereupon he destroyed it.
Five years after this interview I
met Senaco again near the same place. He recognized
me at once, and, much to my surprise, pronounced my
name quite distinctly.
A circumstance which happened in my
interview with this Indian shows their character for
diplomatic policy.
I was about locating and surveying
a reservation of land upon which the government designed
to establish the Comanches, and was desirous of
ascertaining whether they were disposed voluntarily
to come into the measure. In this connection,
I stated to him that their Great Father, the President,
being anxious to improve their condition, was willing
to give them a permanent location, where they could
cultivate the soil, and, if they wished it, he would
send white men to teach them the rudiments of agriculture,
supply them with farming utensils, and all other requisites
for living comfortably in their new homes. I then
desired him to consult with his people, and let me
know what their views were upon the subject.
After talking a considerable time
with his head men, he rose to reply, and said, “He
was very happy to learn that the President remembered
his poor red children in the Plains, and he was glad
to see me again, and hear from me that their Great
Father was their friend; that he was also very much
gratified to meet his agent who was present, and that
he should remember with much satisfaction the agreeable
interview we had had upon that occasion.”
After delivering himself of numerous other non-committal
expressions of similar import, he closed his speech
and took his seat without making the slightest allusion
to the subject in question.
On reminding him of this omission,
and again demanding from him a distinct and categorical
answer, he, after a brief consultation with his people,
replied that his talk was made and concluded, and he
did not comprehend why it was that I wanted to open
the subject anew. But, as I continued to press
him for an answer, he at length said, “You come
into our country and select a small patch of ground,
around which you run a line, and tell us the President
will make us a present of this to live upon, when
every body knows that the whole of this entire country,
from the Red River to the Colorado, is now, and always
has been, ours from time immemorial. I suppose,
however, if the President tells us to confine ourselves
to these narrow limits, we shall be forced to do so,
whether we desire it or not.”
He was evidently averse to the proposed
change in their mode of life, and has been at war
ever since the establishment of the settlement.
The mode of life of the nomadic tribes,
owing to their unsettled and warlike habits, is such
as to render their condition one of constant danger
and apprehension. The security of their numerous
animals from the encroachments of their enemies and
habitual liability to attacks compels them to be at
all times upon the alert. Even during profound
peace they guard their herds both night and day, while
scouts are often patrolling upon the surrounding heights
to give notice of the approach of strangers, and enable
them to secure their animals and take a defensive
attitude.
When one of these people conceives
himself injured his thirst for revenge is insatiable.
Grave and dignified in his outward bearing, and priding
himself upon never exhibiting curiosity, joy, or anger,
yet when once roused he evinces the implacable dispositions
of his race; the affront is laid up and cherished
in his breast, and nothing can efface it from his
mind until ample reparation is made. The insult
must be atoned for by presents, or be washed out with
blood.
WAR EXPEDITIONS.
When a chief desires to organize a
war-party, he provides himself with a long pole, attaches
a red flag to the end of it, and trims the top with
eagle feathers. He then mounts his horse in his
war-costume, and rides around through the camp singing
the war-song. Those who are disposed to join
the expedition mount their horses and fall into the
procession; after parading about for a time, all dismount,
and the war-dance is performed. This ceremony
is continued from day to day until a sufficient number
of volunteers are found to accomplish the objects
desired, when they set out for the theatre of their
intended exploits.
As they proceed upon their expedition,
it sometimes happens that the chief with whom it originated,
and who invariably assumes the command, becomes discouraged
at not finding an opportunity of displaying his warlike
abilities, and abandons the enterprise; in which event,
if others of the party desire to proceed farther,
they select another leader and push on, and thus so
long as any one of the party holds out.
A war-party is sometimes absent for
a great length of time, and for days, weeks, and months
their friends at home anxiously await their return,
until, suddenly, from afar, the shrill war-cry of an
avant courier is heard proclaiming the approach
of the victorious warriors. The camp is in an
instant alive with excitement and commotion. Men,
women, and children swarm out to meet the advancing
party. Their white horses are painted and decked
out in the most fantastic style, and led in advance
of the triumphal procession; and, as they pass around
through the village, the old women set up a most unearthly
howl of exultation, after which the scalp-dance is
performed with all the pomp and display their limited
resources admit of, the warriors having their faces
painted black.
When, on the other hand, the expedition
terminates disastrously by the loss of some of the
party in battle, the relatives of the deceased cut
off their own hair, and the tails and manes of their
horses, as symbols of mourning, and howl and cry for
a long time.
In 1854 I saw the widow of a former
chief of the Southern Comanches, whose husband
had been dead about three years, yet she continued
her mourning tribute to his memory by crying daily
for him and refusing all offers to marry again.
The prairie warrior is occasionally
seen with the rifle in his hand, but his favorite
arm is the bow, the use of which is taught him at an
early age. By constant practice he acquires a
skill in archery that renders him no less formidable
in war than successful in the chase. Their bows
are usually made of the tough and elastic wood of the
“bois d’are,” strengthened
and re-enforced with sinews of the deer wrapped firmly
around, and strung with a cord of the same material.
They are from three to four feet long. The arrows,
which are carried in a quiver upon the back, are about
twenty inches long, of flexible wood, with a triangular
iron point at one end, and at the other two feathers
intersecting at right angles.
At short distances (about fifty yards),
the bow, in the hands of the Indian, is effective,
and in close proximity with the buffalo throws the
arrow entirely through his huge carcass. In using
this weapon the warrior protects himself from the
missiles of his enemy with a shield made of two thicknesses
of undressed buffalo hide filled in with hair.
The Comanches, Sioux, and other
prairie tribes make their attacks upon the open prairies.
Trusting to their wonderful skill in equitation and
horsemanship, they ride around their enemies with their
bodies thrown upon the opposite side of the horse,
and discharge their arrows in rapid succession while
at full speed; they will not, however, often venture
near an enemy who occupies a defensive position.
If, therefore, a small party be in danger of an attack
from a large force of Indians, they should seek the
cover of timber or a park of wagons, or, in the absence
of these, rocks or holes in the prairie which afford
good cover.
Attempts to stampede animals are often
made when parties first arrive in camp, and when every
one’s attention is preoccupied in the arrangements
therewith connected. In a country infested by
hostile Indians, the ground in the vicinity of which
it is proposed to encamp should be cautiously examined
for tracks and other Indian signs by making
a circuit around the locality previous to unharnessing
the animals.
After Indians have succeeded in stampeding
a herd of horses or mules, and desire to drive them
away, they are in the habit of pushing them forward
as rapidly as possible for the first few days, in order
to place a wide interval between themselves and any
party that may be in pursuit.
In running off stolen animals, the
Indians are generally divided into two parties, one
for driving and the other to act as a rear guard.
Before they reach a place where they propose making
a halt, they leave a vidette upon some prominent point
to watch for pursuers and give the main party timely
warning, enabling them to rally their animals and
push forward again.
TRACKING INDIANS.
When an Indian sentinel intends to
watch for an enemy approaching from the rear, he selects
the highest position available, and places himself
near the summit in such an attitude that his entire
body shall be concealed from the observation of any
one in the rear, his head only being exposed above
the top of the eminence. Here he awaits with great
patience so long as he thinks there is any possibility
of danger, and it will be difficult for an enemy to
surprise him or to elude his keen and scrutinizing
vigilance. Meanwhile his horse is secured under
the screen of the hill, all ready when required.
Hence it will be evident that, in following Indian
depredators, the utmost vigilance and caution must
be exercised to conceal from them the movements of
their pursuers. They are the best scouts in the
world, proficient in all the artifices and stratagems
available in border warfare, and when hotly pursued
by a superior force, after exhausting all other means
of evasion, they scatter in different directions;
and if, in a broken or mountainous country, they can
do no better, abandon their horses and baggage, and
take refuge in the rocks, gorges, or other hiding-places.
This plan has several times been resorted to by Indians
in Texas when surprised, and, notwithstanding their
pursuers were directly upon them, the majority made
their escape, leaving behind all their animals and
other property.
For overtaking a marauding party of
Indians who have advanced eight or ten hours before
the pursuing party are in readiness to take the trail,
it is not best to push forward rapidly at first, as
this will weary and break down horses. The Indians
must be supposed to have at least fifty or sixty miles
the start; it will, therefore, be useless to think
of overtaking them without providing for a long chase.
Scouts should continually be kept out in front upon
the trail to reconnoitre and give preconcerted signals
to the main party when the Indians are espied.
In approaching all éminences
or undulations in the prairies, the commander should
be careful not to allow any considerable number of
his men to pass upon the summits until the country
around has been carefully reconnoitred by the scouts,
who will cautiously raise their eyes above the crests
of the most elevated points, making a scrutinizing
examination in all directions; and, while doing this,
should an Indian be encountered who has been left behind
as a sentinel, he must, if possible, be secured or
shot, to prevent his giving the alarm to his comrades.
These precautions can not be too rigidly enforced
when the trail becomes “warm;” and if there
be a moon, it will be better to lie by in the daytime
and follow the trail at night, as the great object
is to come upon the Indians when they are not anticipating
an attack. Such surprises, if discreetly conducted;
generally prove successful.
As soon as the Indians are discovered
in their bivouac, the pursuing party should dismount,
leave their horses under charge of a guard in some
sequestered place, and, before advancing to the attack,
the men should be instructed in signals for their
different movements, such as all will easily comprehend
and remember. As, for example, a pull upon the
right arm may signify to face to the right, and a pull
upon the left arm to face to the left; a pull upon
the skirt of the coat, to halt; a gentle push on the
back, to advance in ordinary time; a slap on the back,
to advance in double quick time, etc., etc.
These signals, having been previously
well understood and practiced, may be given by the
commander to the man next to him, and from him communicated
in rapid succession throughout the command.
I will suppose the party formed in
one rank, with the commander on the right. He
gives the signal, and the men move off cautiously in
the direction indicated. The importance of not
losing sight of his comrades on his right and left,
and of not allowing them to get out of his reach,
so as to break the chain of communication, will be
apparent to all, and great care should be taken that
the men do not mistake their brothers in arms for
the enemy. This may be prevented by having two
pass-words, and when there be any doubt as to
the identity of two men who meet during the night
operations, one of these words may be repeated by
each. Above all, the men must be fully impressed
with the importance of not firing a shot until the
order is given by the commanding officer, and also
that a rigorous personal accountability will be enforced
in all cases of a violation of this rule.
If the commander gives the signal
for commencing the attack by firing a pistol or gun,
there will probably be no mistake, unless it happens
through carelessness by the accidental discharge of
firearms.
I can conceive of nothing more appalling,
or that tends more to throw men off their guard and
produce confusion, than a sudden and unexpected night-attack.
Even the Indians, who pride themselves upon their
coolness and self-possession, are far from being exempt
from its effects; and it is not surprising that men
who go to sleep with a sense of perfect security around
them, and are suddenly aroused from a sound slumber
by the terrific sounds of an onslaught from an enemy,
should lose their presence of mind.
TELEGRAPHING BY SMOKES.
The transparency of the atmosphere
upon the Plains is such that objects can be seen at
great distances; a mountain, for example, presents
a distinct and bold outline at fifty or sixty miles,
and may occasionally be seen as far as a hundred miles.
The Indians, availing themselves of
this fact, have been in the habit of practicing a
system of telegraphing by means of smokes during the
day and fires by night, and, I dare say, there are
but few travelers who have crossed the mountains to
California that have not seen these signals made and
responded to from peak to peak in rapid succession.
The Indians thus make known to their
friends many items of information highly important
to them. If enemies or strangers make their appearance
in the country, the fact is telegraphed at once, giving
them time to secure their animals and to prepare for
attack, defense, or flight.
War or hunting parties, after having
been absent a long time from their erratic friends
at home, and not knowing where to find them, make use
of the same preconcerted signals to indicate their
presence.
Very dense smokes may be raised by
kindling a large fire with dry wood, and piling upon
it the green boughs of pine, balsam, or hemlock.
This throws off a heavy cloud of black smoke which
can be seen very far.
This simple method of telegraphing,
so useful to the savages both in war and in peace,
may, in my judgment, be used to advantage in the movements
of troops co-operating in separate columns in the Indian
country.
I shall not attempt at this time to
present a matured system of signals, but will merely
give a few suggestions tending to illustrate the advantages
to be derived from the use of them.
For example, when two columns are
marching through a country at such distances apart
that smokes may be seen from one to the other, their
respective positions may be made known to each other
at any time by two smokes raised simultaneously or
at certain preconcerted intervals.
Should the commander of one column
desire to communicate with the other, he raises three
smokes simultaneously, which, if seen by the other
party, should be responded to in the same manner.
They would then hold themselves in readiness for any
other communications.
If an enemy is discovered in small
numbers, a smoke raised twice at fifteen minutes’
interval would indicate it; and if in large force,
three times with the same intervals might be the signal.
Should the commander of one party
desire the other to join him, this might be telegraphed
by four smokes at ten minutes’ interval.
Should it become necessary to change
the direction of the line of march, the commander
may transmit the order by means of two simultaneous
smokes raised a certain number of times to indicate
the particular direction; for instance, twice for
north, three times for south, four times for east,
and five times for west; three smokes raised twice
for northeast, three times for northwest, etc.,
etc.
By multiplying the combinations of
signals a great variety of messages might be transmitted
in this manner; but, to avoid mistakes, the signals
should be written down and copies furnished the commander
of each separate party, and they need not necessarily
be made known to other persons.
During the day an intelligent man
should be detailed to keep a vigilant look-out in
all directions for smokes, and he should be furnished
with a watch, pencil, and paper, to make a record
of the signals, with their number, and the time of
the intervals between them.