Religious Revitalization among the Kiowas: The Ghost Dance, Peyote, and Christianity 1496204581, 9781496204585, 9781496205667

Table of contents :
List of Illustrations viii
Kiowa Pronunciations ix
Preface xiii
Acknowledgments xxi
Introduction: Kiowa Culture in the Nineteenth Century 1
1. Christianity, Peyotism, Shamanism, and Prophecy from the Reservation Period to Statehood, 1869– 1906 33
2. The Ghost Dance, 1890– 1916 89
3. Christianity and Peyotism in the Postallotment Era 147
4. Peyotism and Christianity after World War II 181
Conclusion: Indigenized Christianity and Spirituality 221
Notes 259
References 285
Index 297

Citation preview

RELIGIOUS REVITALIZATION AMONG THE KIOWAS

RELIGIOUS REVITALIZATION AMONG THE KIOWAS The Ghost Dance, Peyote, and Christianity

Benjamin R. Kracht

University of Nebraska Press Lincoln and London

© 2018 by the Board of Regents of the University of Nebraska Portions of chapter 2 previously appeared in “‘It Would Break Our Hearts Not to Have Our Kiowas’: War Dancing, Tourism, and the Rise of Powwows in the Early Twentieth Century,” Chronicles of Oklahoma 90, no. 3 (Fall 2012): 286–309. All rights reserved. Manufactured in the United States of America.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Kracht, Benjamin R., 1955– author. Title: Religious revitalization among the Kiowas: the ghost dance, peyote, and Christianity / Benjamin R. Kracht. Description: Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, [2018] | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2017038774 ISBN 9781496204585 (cloth: alk. paper) ISBN 9781496205643 (epub) ISBN 9781496205650 (mobi) ISBN 9781496205667 (pdf ) Subjects: LCSH: Kiowa Indians—Religion—19th century. | Kiowa Indians—Religion—20th century. | Kiowa Indians—Rites and ceremonies—19th century. | Kiowa Indians—Rites and ceremonies— 20th century. | Ghost dance. | Peyotism. Classification: LCC E99.K5 K75 2018 | DDC 978.004/97492—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017038774

Set in Merope Basic by E. Cuddy.

Dedicated to the memories of Dorothy Tsatoke Gray and the Tongkeamha family For my children, Elena and Robert

Contents List of Illustrations viii Kiowa Pronunciations ix Preface xiii Acknowledgments xxi Introduction: Kiowa Culture in the Nineteenth Century 1 1. Christianity, Peyotism, Shamanism, and Prophecy from the Reservation Period to Statehood, 1869–1906 33 2. The Ghost Dance, 1890–1916 89 3. Christianity and Peyotism in the Postallotment Era 147 4. Peyotism and Christianity after World War II 181 Conclusion: Indigenized Christianity and Spirituality 221 Notes 259 References 285 Index 297

Illustrations 1. Raymond Tongkeamha at the Kiowa Gourd Clan ceremonial, July 4, 2014 xiv 2. Map of the proposed site of a Reformed Presbyterian mission school, March 1889 52 3. Saddle Mountain, ca. 2007 58 4. Floor plan of the Kiowa Hand Game 77 5. Water Turtle tipi 79 6. Altar at west end of Ghost Dance tipi, ca. 1894–1916 107 7. Redstone Church, ca. 2007 151 8. Saddle Mountain Church, ca. 2007 217 9. Dorothy Tsatoke Gray, ca. 2007 232 10. Raymond Tongkeamha by the mouth of Odlepaugh Springs, ca. 2007 245 11. Elk Mountain, from the summit looking south, ca. 2010 254

viii

Kiowa Pronunciations Though some scholars today use the Parker McKenzie system for rendering Kiowa language terms (Palmer 2003; Meadows 1999, 2008, 2010), I prefer the system utilized by Laurel Watkins (1984). Kiowa phonemes are as follows: CONSONANTS (WATKINS 1984, 7) p’ t’ k’ ph th kh p t k ? b d g ts’ ts s h z m n

Ejective labial stop; articulated forcefully.1 Ejective dental stop; articulated forcefully. Ejective velar stop; articulated forcefully. Aspirated labial stop; articulated forcefully.2 Aspirated dental stop; articulated forcefully. Aspirated velar stop; articulated forcefully. Voiceless labial stop; as in pat. Voiceless dental stop; as in tag. Voiceless velar stop; as in cone. Voiceless laryngeal stop; glottal stop. Voiced labial stop; as in boat. Voiced dental stop; as in dog. Voiced velar stop; as in goat. Ejective alveolar affricate; hissing noise. Voiceless alveolar affricate; as in soap. Voiceless alveolar fricative; as in sit. Voiceless laryngeal fricative; as in hide. Voiced alveolar fricative; as in zebra. Labial nasal; as in mine. Dental nasal; as in nice. ix

l y i

Dental liquid; as in leaf.3 Palatal glide; acts as a diphthong with back vowels u’, o’, and w’ and with low front vowel a. High front vowel; as in he.4

VOWELS (WATKINS 1984, 9) e a u o ɔ

Mid-front vowel; as in hay. Low front vowel; as in law. High back vowel; as in you. Mid-back vowel; as in toe. Low back vowel; as in caught.

Precisely following the Watkins orthography, however, is somewhat problematic since it was published later than most sources on Kiowa culture and religion; hence variant spellings of names appear throughout published and unpublished sources. Kiowa names appearing in this work are spelled according to cited sources. For instance, the majority of the 1935 Santa Fe Laboratory of Anthropology field notes are typewritten; the limited number of keys representing international phonetic alphabet, tone, nasal, and stress markers, as well as variant spellings, make orthography somewhat inconsistent. In some cases the students rendered words phonetically or added diacritical markers in pencil, so I tried to follow the handwritten spellings whenever possible. Because 1935-era typewriters did not have a key for low back vowel /ɔ/, /w/ was used instead. Because word-processing tools allow for the use of IPA characters, I substituted /ɔ/ for /w/ whenever possible. For instance, the word for “power,” which appears as dwdw in the field notes, is rendered as dɔdɔ in the text. Otherwise I have maintained the integrity of the original spellings. I also adopted the spellings used by each student, regardless of inconsistencies. Variant spellings of names also were cross-checked using the “List of Persons” published by Merrill et al. (1997, 335–438). Notably scholarly works on the Kiowas by William C. Meadows (1999, 2008, 2010) have modified the original orthography from the 1935 field notes into the Parker McKenzie system, potentially changing the pronunciation and meaning of the firsthand spellings. In addition such modifications do not account for the presence of four Kiowa dialects x KIOWA PRONUNCIATIONS

associated with the modern communities near Anadarko, Carnegie, Hobart, and Meers, Oklahoma. Regarding different orthographies, it should be pointed out that within the Kiowa community, there is no single system that has widespread usage. For instance, I attended a conversational Kiowa class in Anadarko on May 23, 1994, taught by David L. Paddlety and have a copy of the work sheet that was distributed that day. The orthography Paddlety employed is somewhat similar to the style used in the photocopied Kiowa hymnals available in some of the Baptist and Methodist churches. Nevertheless Paddlety commented that the language classes taught in Carnegie use a different orthography.

KIOWA PRONUNCIATIONS xi

Preface On a bright, sunny, late winter morning in 2009, I sat in a second-row pew next to my friend Dorothy Tsatoke Gray (1925–2010). Glancing back to observe the students seated behind us in Cache Creek United Methodist Church, I smiled inwardly, reminiscing about their hard work conducting bake sales to help defray travel expenses to visit Kiowa country the first weekend of spring break. I had chosen this particular rural church for our Sunday morning activities because I wanted them to experience the spirituality I had observed in Kiowa churches for over two decades. Besides, Dorothy is the most spiritual person I have ever known. As always, she and her fellow parishioners—all women—welcomed us into their church, but they were especially happy when Raymond Tongkeamha arrived. Traditionally men are song leaders for hymns rendered in the Kiowa language, and Raymond sings well. Over the next hour we enjoyed several Kiowa hymns, feebly accompanied several English ones, witnessed and contributed some emotional testimonials, listened to a short sermon, and prayed. Afterward I visited with Dorothy and Raymond before our group departed. That was the second-to-last time I ever saw her. Dorothy’s deep-rooted spirituality and devotion could put most Christians to shame. Wait a minute! How can Indians be Christians? Isn’t this the religion of the colonizers? The very same religion of the people who looked down on Natives as heathen savages? Many people outside Oklahoma are surprised that American Indians like Dorothy are devout Christians, since non-Indians typically perceive Indians in an “ethnographic oral past” where being Native and Christian are seen as incompatible (Martin 2004, 45; Treat et al. 1996). Reflecting on Kiowa history, it seems remarkable that early nineteenth-century Kiowas, equestrian xiii

Fig. 1. Raymond Tongkeamha at the Kiowa Gourd Clan ceremonial, July 4, 2014. Photograph by the author.

hunter-gatherers pursuing migratory bison herds in the Southwestern Plains, with animistic and animatistic belief systems, medicine bundles, vision quests, the Sun Dance, and other rituals, converted to Christianity at the turn of the twentieth century. Other religions, including prophet movements, the Peyote “cult,” and the Ghost Dance, also appeared at the same time. Fast-forwarding over a hundred years, it would appear that twenty-first-century Kiowas are far removed from their ancestral religious traditions. Today approximately half of the 13,500-plus Kiowas live on allotted lands in southwestern Oklahoma or in the towns of Anadarko, Stecker, Fort Cobb, Carnegie, Mountain View, Hobart, Lone Wolf, Lawton, and Meers. Although current beliefs and religious values are centered around Christianity, and to a lesser extent the ceremonial use of Peyote (Lophophora williamsii) in the Native American Church, these belief systems are infused with religious symbols from nineteenth-century Kiowa society. The amalgamated symbols, or syncretisms, reflect “the synthesis of different religious forms” (Shaw and Stewart 1994), “such as the combination of Christian healing with traditional views of sorcery” (JulesRosette 1979, 18). Syncretism is a common process resulting from culture contact and missionization involving the fusion of religious symbols from two or more different cultures. Syncretisms, as invented traditions, are byproducts of a larger phenomenon: revitalization movements, the appearance of “religious cults or movements” (Levinson 1996, 189), or political-religious movements “viewed as collective responses to negative conditions ranging from deprivation to severe trauma” (Harkin 2004b, 143). However, using only “deprivation” models to explain revitalization movements overlooks “adaptive Native strategies that reflect a long precontact history of innovation, syncretism, and select cultural borrowing” (Irwin 2008, 8). Newer interpretative models suggest that conditions of parity and ascendancy also produce revitalization, as exemplified by contemporary language and cultural revivals and indigenized Christianity. In late nineteenth-century Kiowa society, prophecy, the nascent Peyote rite, and the Ghost Dance were spawned in conditions of rapid culture change and deprivation. Indeed these were remarkable times as diverse belief systems intersected at the Kiowa, Comanche, and Plains Apache (KCA) Reservation, a 2.8-million-acre tract in present-day southwestPREFACE xv

ern Oklahoma. When permanent missionaries arrived in the late 1880s, the horse and buffalo culture had waned and the Sun Dance was on the verge of extinction, though new religions arrived to fill the void. These revitalization movements illuminate Kiowa resistance to colonialism; subsequent transitions to Christianity and the legal charter of the Native American Church in the early twentieth century, however, contributed to the development of a modern tribal identity fused with symbols of the past. Hence the complexity of contemporary Kiowa beliefs was created by historical and sociocultural processes spawning new religions that amalgamated with indigenous Kiowa beliefs. Fortunately eyewitnesses, including missionaries, military personnel, and Indian agency employees, left accounts of these revitalization movements. Kiowa participants and observers of religious activities also left documentation in the form of pictographic calendars and written accounts or described these religions to anthropologists. James Mooney of the Bureau of Ethnology arrived in Kiowa country shortly after the December 29, 1890, tragedy at Wounded Knee to investigate the Ghost Dance, which was gaining popularity among the tribes served by the Kiowa, Comanche, and Wichita Agency (a.k.a. the Kiowa Agency) in Anadarko. For the next three decades Mooney worked intermittently with the Kiowas and documented the Ghost Dance and the Peyote religion. Moreover he advocated for the formal establishment of the Native American Church in 1918 and lobbied against anti-Peyote legislation. Besides working with the oldest living Kiowas, Mooney interviewed Capt. Hugh L. Scott, who commanded Indian troops at Fort Sill in the 1890s, and Father Isidore Ricklin, the Catholic missionary who operated a boarding school in Anadarko. An eyewitness to the Kiowa transition from tipis to houses, Mooney strongly felt that Kiowa traditions needed to be written down and preserved. Years later the methods used to collect data for Calendar History of the Kiowa Indians (1898) would become standard ethnohistorical procedures (Ewers 1979, xiii; Hinsley 1981, 221). Mooney is still favorably remembered by Kiowa elders. On one occasion Gus Palmer Sr. (1919–2006) procured his copy of Calendar History to answer one of my questions. In late June 1935, five anthropology graduate students sponsored by the Santa Fe Laboratory of Anthropology and led by Alexander Lesser xvi PREFACE

(Columbia University) arrived in Anadarko. For the next two months they interviewed over thirty-five Kiowas, using at least twelve interpreters to reconstruct the horse and buffalo culture that collapsed after May 1875, when the Kiowas were forced to reside within the boundaries of the KCA Reservation established by the 1867 Medicine Lodge Treaty. Upon their departure in late August, the students had compiled over 1,300 pages of single-spaced typewritten field notes pertaining to “economics, political organization, authority, law, rank, kinship, family life, warfare, societies (men’s and women’s), religious conceptions, the vision complex, medicine men and sorcery, the Sun Dance, the Ten Medicine complex, cult movements, etc.”1 The Kiowa field notes contain invaluable information about the prereservation-period horse and buffalo culture but remain largely unpublished.2 Although the students focused primarily on prereservation Kiowa culture, R. Weston LaBarre (Yale University) and Donald Collier (University of Chicago) collected information about the Ghost Dance from those who had witnessed dances. During the course of the summer the students became steadfast friends with their principal interpreter, Charley Apekaum, who helped LaBarre establish rapport with members of the Native American Church. The next summer LaBarre returned to Oklahoma and collaborated with a fledgling ethnobotanist, Richard Evans Schultes (Harvard University), to study the Peyote religion. In 1937 LaBarre and Collier, backed by Donald’s father, Indian Commissioner John Collier (1933– 45), helped defeat Senate Bill 1399, which threatened to restrict interstate distribution of Peyote from its source near Laredo, Texas.3 Had the bill passed, conducting Native American Church ceremonies would have been impossible without access to Peyote, the central sacrament. LaBarre’s dissertation was published as The Peyote Cult in 1938. Native accounts of the Native American Church were provided by Monroe Tsatoke (1904–37), the son of the famed cavalry scout Hunting Horse (1850–1953) and his oldest wife, Pitoma. Tsatoke, a renowned singer, artist, and interpreter for the Santa Fe field school, joined the Native American Church after he was diagnosed with tuberculosis. His posthumously published book, The Peyote Ritual (1957), delineates the symbolism, deities, and prayers of the Peyote ritual, which provides an important Native voice. Kiowas interviewed in 1935 about prophet movements, the PREFACE xvii

Peyote religion, and the Ghost Dance included Max Frizzlehead—his father had worked with Mooney—Jimmy Quoetone (Wolf Tail), Hunting Horse, Andrew Stumbling Bear, George Hunt, Tsoodle, and White Fox, whose father, Afraid-of-Bears, had been the principal leader of this shortlived movement. Others interviewed about the Peyote religion included Charley Apekaum, Jim Ahtone, Belo Cozad, Bagyanoi, Sankadota, Jim Ahtone, and Ned Brace. Alice Marriott, the first woman to receive an anthropology degree from the University of Oklahoma, also conducted ethnographic fieldwork among the Kiowas during the summers of 1935 and 1936. Working primarily with the elder Set-maun-te (Bear Paw), also known as George Hunt, Marriott became close friends with her interpreter, Ioleta Hunt MacElhaney, George’s youngest daughter, who was a teacher, social worker, and Christian missionary. Conversely Hunt’s other daughter, Margaret Hunt Tsoodle, belonged to the Native American Church. During the summer of 1936 Alice and Ioleta stayed in the extended Tsoodle household, along with Margaret and her husband, George Tsoodle, who took Marriott to several Peyote meetings. Like LaBarre and Collier—with whom she never interacted—Marriott defended the Native American Church (Loughlin 2005, 151). Typed copies of Marriott’s field notes in the Western History Collections at the University of Oklahoma include noteworthy descriptions of the Christian and Peyote rituals she attended. In 1883 Indian Commissioner Hiram Price codified the Indian Religious Crimes Code, which outlawed Native customs, religions, and dances deemed “heathenish” or “injurious.” Those convicted of illicit activities risked incarceration in the agency jail or having their rations withheld, restrictions that were lifted fifty years later, when John Collier became Indian commissioner. During this half century of cultural genocide, correspondence between Indian agents, Indian Office officials, missionaries, and other “friends of the Indian” reflect the Western bias toward American Indian cultural and religious practices. Individuals who wrote about Kiowa involvement in the Ghost Dance, Peyote religion, and shamanism included the missionaries J. J. Methvin, Isabel Crawford, B. F. Gassaway, and Harry H. Treat and agency superintendents Ernest Stecker and C. V. Stinchecum. Native opinions are found in some of the letters Kiowas composed or had written on their behalf.4 xviii PREFACE

Collectively these sources offer valuable insights into the historical and sociocultural conditions that spawned the new religions that arrived in Kiowa country at the turn of the twentieth century, as well as Native and non-Native reactions to them. A thorough examination of these sources demonstrates Kiowa resiliency and adaptability in the face of cultural genocide between 1883 and 1933. Although the prophet movements and the Ghost Dance were short-lived, Christianity and the Native American Church have persevered into the twenty-first century. To a certain extent contemporary Kiowa beliefs manifest vestiges of indigenous religious beliefs and practices.

PREFACE xix

Acknowledgments Research for this book dates back to 1987, when I began conducting fieldwork in southwestern Oklahoma. Ostensibly I was there to learn about contemporary Kiowa belief systems, but as I gathered information about the Peyote religion and the kin- and community-based churches scattered throughout Kiowa country, some of the stories told by elders piqued my interest in religious revitalization at the turn of the twentieth century. During the summer of 1987, while a resident at the Smithsonian Institution, I perused the 1,300-plus pages of typewritten field notes of the 1935 Santa Fe Laboratory of Anthropology Kiowa field school, housed in the National Anthropological Archives. Every evening after dinner I trekked to the U.S. National Archives to examine correspondence and records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) found in Record Group 75. Subsequent visits to other archival repositories added important documentation to this study. Over the years so many Kiowas have shared stories about their culture with me that it is impossible to mention everyone. My apologies to anyone I have overlooked. Among those instrumental in my research were Betty Tanedooah Tongkeamah, Clifton Tongkeamah, Weiser Tongkeamha, Henrietta Tongkeamha, Raymond Tongkeamha (both spellings are correct), Prenella Tongkeamah, Melissa Tongkeamah Kaulaity, Lavena Tongkeamha Pewo, Dorothy Tsatoke Gray, Rev. John Tsatoke, Rev. Ken Sullivan, Gina Ware Pauahty, Billy Amauty, Dorothy Wood Amauty, Fern Ahdokobo Miller, Amos Aitson, Lucille Aitson, George Tahbone, Margie Tahbone, Fred Tsoodle, Alice Littleman, Fr. Mike Vaught, Libby Botone Ahtone, Jake Ahtone, Patsy Sankadota Tehauno, Stanley Horse, Emma Ware Haury, Marian Kaulaity Hansson, Dean Reeder, Herbert Woesner, xxi

Evalu Ware Russell, Agatha Paddlety Bates, Richard Stumblingbear, Trina Stumblingbear, Patricia Ware, Ernest “Iron” Toppah, Hess Bointy, Bryan “Jake” Chanate, Roderick “Smokey” Gwoompi, Ira Kaulay, Johnny Davilla, Marcia Davilla, Ray C. Doyah, Rev. Charles “Nick” Quoetone, Rev. Bob Pinezaddleby, Gus Palmer Sr., and Alice Palmer. Ethnographic fieldwork and archival research were funded by the Institute for the Study of Earth and Man, Graduate Council, and David J. Webber Anthropology Fellowship, Southern Methodist University; Smithsonian Institution Ten-Week Graduate Student Fellowship; Short-Term Fellowship, the D’Arcy McNickle Center for the Study of the American Indian, Newberry Library; Jacobs Research Funds, Whatcom Museum of History and Art; American Philosophical Society, Phillips Fund for Native American Research; and Faculty Research Committee grants, Northeastern State University. Special thanks go to Raymond J. DeMallie and to Matthew Bokovoy, senior acquisitions editor at University of Nebraska Press, and to two anonymous readers for their helpful critiques of the manuscript. Of course I take full responsibility for any errors within.

xxii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

RELIGIOUS REVITALIZATION AMONG THE KIOWAS

Introduction Kiowa Culture in the Nineteenth Century Kiowas belong to the Kiowa-Tanoan branch of the Uto-Aztecan language family and are distantly related to the Tiwa, Tewa, and Towa speakers living in ten of the Rio Grande pueblos of New Mexico (Watkins 1984, 1–2). Based on a small number of shared cognates, it’s believed that the Kiowas separated from the Pueblos in pre-Columbian times and migrated north to the mountainous Yellowstone River region of western Montana (Levy 2001, 907). Kiowa traditions maintain that they left this area in the late seventeenth century and journeyed southeastward to the Northwestern Plains, ostensibly in search of horses, which became increasingly abundant in the Southwestern Plains following the 1680 Pueblo Revolt. Moving onto the plains, the Kiowas quickly adopted the accoutrements of the incipient horse and buffalo culture as they transformed into highly mobile, equestrian bison hunters. During their southeastward trek the Kiowas befriended the Crows and by 1775 reached the Black Hills, where they began trading horses in the Middle Missouri River region with the Mandans and Arikaras. Hostile encounters with Lakotas and Cheyennes—enemies of the Crows— pushed the smaller Kiowa and affiliated Plains Apache tribes south of the Arkansas River into lands encompassing present-day western Kansas and Oklahoma, west Texas, southeastern Colorado, and northeastern New Mexico. Dominated by the powerful Comanches, the Southwestern Plains was an ideal environment for breeding horses due to mild winters and ample grazing. Proximity to Spanish settlements along the Rio Grande River and its tributaries also attracted the Kiowas. Outnumbered by the Lakotas and Cheyennes to the north, the Kiowas and Plains Apaches 1

negotiated peace with the Comanches sometime between 1790 and 1806, creating a KCA alliance that dominated the Southwestern Plains in the early nineteenth century. Kiowa and Plains Apache bands inhabited the region north to the Arkansas River, whereas the Comanches were concentrated in the Staked Plains of the Texas Panhandle (Mooney 1898, 161– 64; Kavanagh 1996, 146; Levy 2001, 908; Moore 1996, 90–92). In 1840 the KCA tribes forged an alliance with the Cheyennes and Lakotas and for the next thirty years thrived in the Southwestern Plains. Kiowa men captured mustangs in the Staked Plains and trained them for specific purposes in hunting, warfare, and transportation. Close proximity to the Spanish settlements in Texas and Mexico was conducive to the development of a raiding economy and social differentiation based on the acquisition of plunder, captives, and horses. Combined KiowaComanche raiding parties heading south frequently skirmished with Mexican and Texan enemies, whereas Kiowa war parties traveling west fought against the Utes and Navajos, oftentimes stopping to trade at the easternmost pueblos in New Mexico. Other enemies included Pawnees who came from the north to steal horses from the three horse-rich allies and from the eastern tribes that had been relocated into eastern Kansas and Oklahoma in the 1820s and 1830s. By this time, Kiowa bands were forced to aggregate into large winter and summer encampments for mutual protection. Similar to the Lakotas, Cheyennes, and Plains Apaches, the Kiowas used Hawaiian kin terms—distinguishing relatives by gender and generation—and organized into kindreds, or bands. The anthropologist Jane Richardson (1940, 6) found that Kiowa kindreds led by the eldest brother comprised “his own brothers, his sisters and their spouses, his parents, his mother’s and father’s brothers, and his sons and daughters with their families.” Analogous to groups forming nations on the Northern Plains in the eighteenth century, Kiowa hunting bands aggregated and disbanded like the migratory bison herds they pursued; bands coalesced during the summer and winter for communal hunts, then dispersed afterward. By the early nineteenth century a three-tiered class system had emerged based on individual horse ownership. At the top was the horse-rich upper class, the ondedɔ or “rich” kindreds upon which the middle and horse-poor classes depended. Rank was contingent on accu2 INTRODUCTION

mulating horses through raids, and war honors. During the zenith of the horse and buffalo culture, which ended in 1875, the Kiowas, numbering around 1,600 individuals, were subdivided into ten to twenty prominent kindreds, or bands. According to Richardson, each band comprised twelve to fifty tipis on the average (6). Status and rank were also contingent on access to supernatural power because religious traditions had likewise transformed in the new social and physical environments of the plains. Central to prereservation Kiowa beliefs was the concept of dɔdɔ, “power,” a spirit force permeating the universe, including the earth, air, sun, moon, mountains, water, plants, and animals. This spirit force manifests itself in natural phenomena like thunder, the four directional winds, mountains, seasons, and in animal, bird, and reptile guises; each of these entities possesses varying degrees of dɔdɔ. For instance, if one animal dominates another in nature, its dɔdɔ is stronger, and it follows that “powers from above” are stronger than the powers of earthbound animals and that Sun power is mightier than Buffalo power. Importantly, these powers could be good or bad since goodness and evil coexist in everything. In Plains cosmography—with exceptions—power is distributed throughout a three-layered universe consisting of upper, lower, and middle realms. Powers associated with the upper realm include the sun, moon, celestial beings, and winged creatures of the sky; the lower realm is represented by water and underground beings, such as fish, snakes, and chthonic beings; both realms intersect with the middle realm, inhabited by humans and land animals. Visionary experiences occur in the middle realm (Irwin 1994, 26–55). Indigenous Kiowa cosmography, however, differed somewhat, according to Hunting Horse, who identified three levels of the universe: sun, air (wind), and earth. Sun, moon, and stars inhabit the upper level; wind, the four directional winds, thunder, whirlwinds, tornados, and birds occupy the middle level; earth, the lowest level, is home to humans, plants, and animals, including those that live underground or underwater.1 Bert Geikauma added that the spirits are interrelated, travel at night, and are potentially malevolent.2 The Kiowas supplicated a multitude of these spirit powers for long and prosperous lives, and they offered prayers to the sun, moon, and stars and to the plants, animals, and birds. They also believed that dɔdɔ could INTRODUCTION 3

be obtained through vision quests featuring power seekers—mostly men—offering prayers to the spirit forces. Successful vision quests were rare, however, because the spirits were not always willing to impart their powers to humans. A few individuals did receive dɔdɔ, and some even accumulated different powers over the course of their lives. Notably the ondedɔ families were led by men possessing dɔdɔ gained through vision quests. Possessing supernatural power contributed to their success as great warriors and owners of tribal or personal medicine bundles— buffalo hide bags containing bird feathers, animal and bird parts, plants, and minerals—which were assembled according to the dictates of the dream spirits. Songs and divinatory rites were also learned to activate the powers of the bundles when manipulated in public performances. Men possessing power also carried circular buffalo hide war shields decorated with symbols of their power. Power visions validated leadership since men with medicine power possessed esoteric knowledge and special capabilities that benefited themselves and others. There were two types of power: war power and curing power. Men with war power typically organized raids and were band leaders, whereas those with curing powers were gifted shamans who worked alone or in groups if the same powers were shared, as among the Buffalo doctors who belonged to the Buffalo Medicine Lodge. Medicine bundles and shield designs were acquired through power visions, inheritance, and purchase; novices who purchased bundles had to learn their powers. Individually owned bundles were connected with success in healing, warfare, and hunting, but most important were the eleven sacred tribal bundles inherited by men in ondedɔ families: the Ten Medicines and Taime, the Sun Dance bundle. Weston LaBarre referred to the bundle keepers as “priests,” but White Fox, a Ten Medicines keeper, said the bundles were different because they provided spiritual, not technological assistance. Ten Medicines keepers often assembled to pray for the welfare of all the Kiowas, prayed for sick people, and were summoned when conflict resolution was needed. White Fox identified the Taimek’i, or Taime keeper as the “high priest” of the Sun Dance. When Sun Dances were held, the Taimek’i became the supreme authority. Held between mid-June and late July, the Sun Dance was the most important Kiowa ceremony, for it unified the tribe socially and spiritu4 INTRODUCTION

ally. A rite of renewal, the Sun Dance was associated with the dɔdɔ of Sun, the life-giving power of the universe, and Buffalo, lord of lower-world animals that provide sustenance. Sun gave power directly to the buffalo on which the Kiowas depended, and Sun was regarded as the father of Buffalo and the Kiowas. Sun also was a source of war power transmitted through Taime, the Sun Dance bundle. Sun, Buffalo, and war power were intricately entwined and recurrent themes during performances of the Sun Dance, which empowered the people as they sought spiritual and physical renewal. On a societal level this near-annual ceremony marked the only time the Kiowa bands, as well as the Plains Apaches, coalesced in the summertime, primarily because the successful performance of this tribal ritual ideally required the participation of all Kiowas (Scott 1911, 347, 356). In 1935 Max Frizzlehead told Donald Collier that spiritually the Sun Dance was a renewal ceremony, a time for people to pray for the spiritual and physical well-being of their families. Moreover those enduring fasting and dancing during the four days of the Sun Dance proper hoped that their pitiful state would create strong prayers to ensure a prosperous future. Individuals blessed with good fortune since the previous Sun Dance also gave thanks to the powers represented by Sun, Buffalo, and Taime.3 If a prominent man had pledged to sponsor a Sun Dance the previous spring, all the bands coalesced for four to six weeks to conduct this life-renewing ceremony. During this time one of the warrior societies policed the communal hunt, making sure everyone hunted at the same time in order to maximize the amount of buffalo meat brought in to feed at least 1,600 people for over a month. Upon the conclusion of the Sun Dance, the bands dispersed to predetermined locations to hunt buffalo through the late fall. Enough meat had to be dried for winter use. War parties also sortied in different directions, usually accompanied by Comanche allies. Raiding played a pivotal role in Kiowa economy until their surrender in May 1875. The Final Years of Freedom In August 1868 the U.S. Senate ratified the Medicine Lodge Treaty, initiating the collapse of the Southern Plains horse and buffalo culture. Treaty provisions included the distribution of annuity goods to the KioINTRODUCTION 5

was, Comanches, and Plains Apaches for thirty years and funding for an agency, schools, and all necessary personnel. The treaty also established the 2.8-million-acre KCA Reservation in present- day southwestern Oklahoma.4 Although the Native charges were expected to remain within the boundaries of the new reservation, “temporary hunting privileges” were allowed south of the Arkansas River (Mooney 1898, 184– 85). During the fall and winter of 1868– 69, Kiowa bands were ordered to encamp near the agency at Fort Cobb along the Washita River for ration distribution. Those failing to report would be considered hostile and subject to military action. Not all the Kiowa bands, however, reported to the agency. Back in November bands led by Kicking Bird, Woman’s Heart, and Big Bow had encamped two miles east of Black Kettle’s ill-fated village on the Washita River when it was attacked by Lt. Col. George A. Custer. After the battle many fled west to the Staked Plains and did not report when rations were distributed at Fort Cobb in February 1869 (Kracht 2017, 251–52). In early January the location of a new agency for the KCA Indians was selected almost two miles south of the newly constructed Fort Sill, situated at the eastern slopes of the Wichita Mountains near the confluence of Medicine Bluff and Cache creeks. Every two weeks band leaders came to the agency to receive rations of “beef, bacon, flour, coffee, sugar, soap, tobacco, and soda” (Steele 1939, 371n), although meager ration distributions and bison scarcity within reservation boundaries forced many Kiowas to leave in order to survive. Some journeyed west to join the Guhale “white deer” band of Kiowas roaming the Staked Plains of the Texas Panhandle with the Kwahada Comanches. Soldier chiefs invited young warriors into these encampments, from which raiding parties departed against the Utes, Navajos, and settlements in north Texas. Until the end of the Southern Plains wars in the spring of 1875, multiethnic, militant bands led by soldier chiefs also developed in other Plains societies. For instance, the Cheyenne Dog Soldier Society led by Porcupine Bear was banished from the tribe in 1837. Numbering ten to twenty lodges, the society-turned-band wandered between the Smoky Hill and Republican rivers in northwestern Kansas and formed alliances with the Oglalas and Brules. Through intermarriage the Cheyenne-Lakota Dog Soldier band numbered several hundred lodges in 1869. By this time raiding 6 INTRODUCTION

had replaced trading as a subsistence strategy, and the Dog Soldiers became increasingly militant in response to the encroachment of EuroAmericans, diminishing natural resources, and increased dependency on manufactured goods. In the Central Plains the term Dog Soldiers was synonymous with “hostiles,” as was Kwahada in the Southwestern Plains (Moore 1987, 196–202; Klein 1993, 150–55). Collectively these multiethnic bands were also referred to as “out” Indians because they ignored orders to report to their agencies and reside on the reservations. Shortly after the formation of the Guhale band, the Bureau of Indian Affairs and the U.S. Army identified “peacefuls” as those who stayed on the KCA Reservation, asked permission to leave during the summer hunt and Sun Dance, and did not participate in raids into Texas and Mexico. Even though “hostile” and “peaceful” factions were identified, the Kiowas as a whole were not interested in adopting farming or sending their children to school at the agency, as stipulated by the Medicine Lodge Treaty.5 Buffalo hunting, accumulating large horse herds, and raiding were the major subsistence strategies of the Southwestern Plains tribes. Between 1869 and 1875 Guhale and Kwahada camps attracted refugees from the KCA and Cheyenne-Arapaho reservations; even the slightest disturbance or perceived threat of martial action by the army prompted more expatriates to join the encampments. Hunger was another factor compelling people to leave the reservations. For instance, in December 1873 Thomas Battey, the Quaker missionary and schoolteacher who traveled with Kicking Bird’s band in 1873–74, learned that those who stayed near the agency suffered from hunger due to inadequate ration issues and hunting prohibitions that kept them from pursuing off-reservation bison. Many survived the winter by eating their horses and mules. Moreover because raiding was a major subsistence strategy, Kiowa and Comanche war parties continued to raid throughout Texas and northern Mexico and oftentimes skirmished with settlers and soldiers. Continuous raiding into Texas was also fueled by the belief that Anglos were intentionally destroying the Southern Plains bison herds. On June 27, 1874, a war party of three hundred to seven hundred Kwahadas, Cheyennes, and Kiowas attacked white buffalo hunters at Adobe Walls, an old trading post INTRODUCTION 7

on the South Canadian River in the Texas Panhandle. Allegedly they were exacting revenge for the wanton slaughter of buffalo, the major food source that was on the brink of extinction. By 1874 the Southern Plains bison herds were rapidly disappearing due to overhunting by Anglo hide hunters and the construction of forts, railroads, and settlements that engulfed the KCA Reservation. Driven by hunger, Kiowas and Comanches continued raiding into Texas and also attacked personnel at Fort Sill and the Kiowa Agency, prompting military reprisal that led to the ensuing Red River War, also called the Kiowa-Comanche “outbreak.” On August 20 several Kiowa and Comanche bands appeared at the Wichita Agency in Anadarko, demanded food from agency employees, then raided the Caddo, Wichita, and Delaware gardens. Four companies of the Tenth Cavalry arrived the next day; the ensuing skirmish resulted in the pilfering of the agency trading store and the destruction of Red Food’s camp of registered Penateka Comanches. After the “Anadarko affair,” about one third of 1,050 Kiowas fled to the Staked Plains.6 Shortly afterward the U.S. Army sent five columns of cavalry and infantry totaling three thousand men on a four-pronged campaign against the “out” Indians in the Texas Panhandle. Military objectives were to prevent the Indians from procuring meat and hides for the oncoming winter by keeping them constantly on the move, ultimately driving them back to their respective agencies. On September 27 Col. Ranald S. Mackenzie’s column launched a surprise attack on a large Kiowa, Cheyenne, and Comanche village in Palo Duro Canyon; fleeing Indians scurried up the canyon walls, abandoning their tipis, winter food supply, and horse herd estimated at 1,400 head, which Mackenzie had dispatched to prevent their recapture. After escaping the canyon, the refugees were driven to the Staked Plains by converging military columns. Hungry and harried, their condition worsened in mid-November when a sudden blizzard struck, causing many Indians to head back to the Darlington and Fort Sill agencies. Those remaining in the Staked Plains were kept constantly on the move throughout the winter, and in spring individuals and groups trekked back to their reservations to surrender. By June 2, 1875, the last Kiowa, Comanche, Plains Apache, and Cheyenne warriors had surrendered. 8 INTRODUCTION

Collapse of the Horse and Buffalo Culture Following their surrender at Fort Sill, all men had their weapons, accoutrements of war, and horses confiscated. Noncombatant women and children were settled in a detention camp along Cache Creek, the most feared Kiowa and Comanche leaders were shackled and confined in the guardhouse, and the remaining warriors were kept in an unfinished icehouse. Next the army appointed leaders to select the most notorious warriors to serve prison time at Fort Marion, near St. Augustine, Florida. Nine Comanches and twenty-six Kiowas were indicted at Fort Sill, and thirty-three Cheyennes and two Arapahos were sentenced at the Darlington Agency. A total of seventy prisoners were loaded onto boxcars and sent to Florida (Szabo 2007, 25).7 Formerly bison hunters and raiders, the Kiowas would become beefand-commodity-fed dependents living in ten kin-based communities north of the Wichita Mountains. Established by 1882, the ten distinct reservation encampments were named after such geographical landmarks as mountains and creeks: (1) Mount Scott—just north of Fort Sill, this area was originally settled by families of the “peace chiefs” Kicking Bird and Stumbling Bear; (2) Saddle Mountain—an area about ten miles northwest of Mount Scott; (3) Sugar Creek—ten miles west of Saddle Mountain; (4) Cedar Creek—east of present-day Carnegie; (5) Stinking Creek—south of Carnegie; (6) Samone Camp—west of Carnegie; (7) Elk Creek—near modern Hobart and Lone Wolf; (8) Rainy Mountain Creek—southwest of contemporary Mountain View; (9) Hog Creek—several miles west of the agency in Anadarko; and (10) Red Stone—several miles northwest of Hog Creek. Of the ten encampments, the largest enclaves were at Rainy Mountain, Mount Scott, Saddle Mountain, and Hog Creek.8 Finally, some students returning from Carlisle Indian Industrial School settled near the agency in Anadarko (Levy 1959, 83–86).9 By the 1930s survivors of the prereservation horse and buffalo culture and their descendants were living in houses on allotments near their former encampments (Kracht 2017, 25–26). Though confinement on the reservation accelerated the demise of the horse and buffalo culture, the extinction of the Southern Plains bison herds finalized its collapse. Following the surrender, hunting INTRODUCTION 9

parties escorted by soldiers encountered very few bison during the seasonal hunts. The passing of the buffalo also contributed to the death of the Sun Dance, especially since the ceremonial hunt preceding the dance—ritualistically killing a bull and hoisting its hide and head up the forked pole of the altar in the Sun Dance lodge—was difficult to perform. For instance, the 1879 “Horse- eating” Sun Dance received its name because the Kiowas were reduced to eating horseflesh instead of fresh bison meat. Dances were intermittent in the 1880s due to the paucity of bison, and the final ceremonies were held due to luck or improvising: the 1881 “Hot” Sun Dance on the North Fork of the Red River was held in late August because it took almost two months to find bison; the bull killed for the 1885 “Little Peninsula” Sun Dance was found far west on the Staked Plains; and the 1887 “Oak Creek” Sun Dance, the last one ever held, transpired only because a Texas rancher named Charles Goodnight sold the Indians a bull from his domesticated herd (Kracht 2017, 263– 64). Establishment of the Courts of Indian Offenses in 1883 and enforcement of the Religious Crimes Code also contributed to the collapse of the Kiowa Sun Dance. Established by Interior Secretary Henry M. Teller, the courts authorized Indian agents to eradicate cultural practices deemed “a great hindrance to the civilization of the Indians,” especially “old heathenish dances, such as the sun-dance, scalp-dance, etc.,” as well as polygyny and shamanism (Prucha 1984, 646). Kiowa plans to hold a Sun Dance in 1889 were thwarted by Agent W. D. Myers, who threatened to dispatch soldiers with orders to arrest anyone staging a dance.10 A year later Kiowa leaders obtained permission from a new agent, Charles E. Adams, to conduct one final Sun Dance. Although Adams initially approved the ceremony, Indian Commissioner Thomas J. Morgan notified him to forbid the dance. By this time the Kiowas had established a Sun Dance encampment at the bend of the Washita River about twenty miles west of the agency and were constructing a Sun Dance lodge, replete with an old buffalo robe adorning the center pole. On July 19, in response to Morgan’s orders, Adams notified the commanding officer at Fort Sill to send troops to halt the ceremony. By the time the soldiers reached Anadarko, the great camp circle had disbanded and everyone had returned to their encampments. Appropriately called the Sun Dance “when the forked 10 INTRODUCTION

poles were left standing,” the Sun Dance would never be conducted again after this failed attempt in 1890 (Kracht 2017, 264– 65). Cultural Genocide The creation of the Courts of Indian Offenses occurred during an era when evangelical Christian humanitarians greatly influenced federal Indian policy. Collectively referred to as the “friends of the Indian,” the Christian reformers sought to solve the “Indian problem” by controlling the Indian Office and lobbying Congress. The historian Francis Paul Prucha (1984, 500) attributes their ascendancy to the presidency of Ulysses S. Grant, whose term “brought to fruition a policy dominated by evangelical Protestant men and principles.” In April 1869 Congress authorized the formation of the Board of Indian Commissioners, an unsalaried group of men who served as advisors to the BIA. Their duties included overseeing the administration of Indian policy, with the explicit purpose of curbing corruption in the Indian Office. Obviously they could not cover a lot of territory, but the Board of Indian Commissioners would attract Protestants influenced by “Evangelical revitalism” that lasted until John Collier became Indian commissioner. Even the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA), was influential in lobbying Congress. This all happened during the “new awakening,” or the second great awakening, which characterized the last part of the nineteenth century that was dominated by Evangelical Christian ideals. Significantly there were no Catholics on the board, though Catholics eventually formed the Board of Catholic Missions to counter the anti-Catholic sentiments. The philosophies of the Board of Indian Commissioners were straightforward: abrogate the treaty system, allot Indian lands, and abandon tribalism. Outraged by the atrocities of the Indian wars, a number of Eastern pro-Indian defense groups developed in the 1870s, such as the Boston Indian Citizenship Committee and the Women’s National Indian Association. Formed in 1882 in Philadelphia, the Indian Rights Association became the most influential organization. Shortly after its inception the IRA became the most outspoken pro-Indian group, and Herbert Welsh, the organizational secretary, became its driving force. By 1892 the IRA was staffed by approximately 1,300 individuals in branch offices throughout the country. Welsh and his staffers toured the American West, then pubINTRODUCTION 11

lished pamphlets and traveled a lecture circuit to disseminate information about conditions on Indian reservations. Besides influencing public opinion through the media, the IRA had a strong lobbying presence in Washington DC. Most of the reforms suggested by Welsh became Indian policy by the turn of the century (Prucha 1976, 139–43). Members of the Indian defense groups shared several ethnocentric goals: liquidating tribal landholdings through allotment in severalty; breaking up tribalism and the influence of the family, especially through off-reservation boarding schools; and eliminating tribal dances and ceremonies deemed detrimental to the assimilation of Indians into mainstream American society. Influenced by the fallacious tenants of cultural evolution, the “friends” identified American Indians as “savages” whose “progress” was hindered by their indigenous belief systems. In an era when American Indians were considered wards of the government, the Indian reformers undertook the daunting task of teaching them the proper decorum of the “civilized” world. The goals of the friends implemented in federal Indian policy were designed to attack American Indian cultures. Today, according to the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization, such actions are considered cultural genocide, defined as “the attempted annihilation of the ties that connect a community and that make them distinct and unique.” Cultural genocide, also called ethnocide, denies people “the right to enjoy, develop and transmit its own culture and its own language, whether individually or collectively” (Alvarez 2014, 29). Between 1883 and 1933 Indian agents for the KCA tribes implored their charges to abandon family encampments in favor of living in separate houses—on individual allotments after 1901—send their children to boarding schools, terminate polygynous marriages, cease dancing, and forsake their tribal religions and native practitioners. Hence the Sun Dance, war dancing, and involvement in new religions like the Peyote rite and the Ghost Dance were discouraged. Punishment for persons participating in unauthorized activities included the withholding of rations or jail time. During this era ushered in by the collapse of the horse and buffalo culture, the onset of the reservation period, and allotment, conditions were rife for the appearance of new religions—revitalization movements—in Kiowa country. Of 12 INTRODUCTION

the revitalization movements that appeared in the last two decades of the nineteenth century, prophet movements and the Ghost Dance were short-lived, though Peyotism and Christianity would survive into the modern era. Revitalization Movements In the early twentieth century the anthropologist Melville Herskovits (1938, 38; 1949, 553–54, 570–71) examined culture change resulting from culture contact and delineated the process of “cultural syncretism,” the blending of cultural traits from two or more cultures. Herskovits observed that culture contact—and inevitably culture change—spawns new syncretic religious forms (Shaw and Stewart 1994, 5– 6). Later studies influenced by Herskovits traced the “different aspects of the borrowing and blending process” (Houk 1995, 180), leading to the recognition that virtually every religion in the world has “undergone some degree of syncretic fusion as it has come into contact with the other world religions and local ones” (Ryan 1969, 284). In his monograph Acculturation: The Study of Culture Contact, Herskovits (38–39, 59) noted syncretisms in the religious practices of “New World Negroes,” such as Haitian Voodoo (Vodun) worshipers, and the Zapotec Indians of Mexico. Later the sociologist Bruce F. Ryan (1969, 282–88) observed that “syncretic integration,” the result of the coalescence of “alternative religious systems,” for instance, Christianity and indigenous North American Indian religions, was accompanied by “social conflict” and “ideological competition” resulting from EuroAmerican conquest and colonization. Working among the Ndembu of Rhodesia (now northwestern Zambia) in the mid-twentieth century, the symbolist Victor Turner (1968, 22) wrote that Western influences had caused the “tribal religions [to] wilt and perish in a surprisingly short time, and with them vanish[ed] the ritual symbols.” Turner blamed the British colonial government, the “new social order,” for introducing new symbols along with social change and instability. Once rapid social change slowed down and stabilized, traditional rituals were revived and infused with new symbols. The emergent symbols in the restored Ndembu rituals were “hybridization[s] between old and new” ritual symbols, though he noted the difficulty separating “traditional from new social tendencies in . . . Ndembu behavior” (129). INTRODUCTION 13

To the Western observer such syncretisms might appear to be “a collection of world views in flux” (Jules-Rosette 1979, 9). Katherine Dunham (1969) identified similar patterns in her analysis of Haitian Vodun, as have contemporary scholars of New World “possession cults,” which are syncretic religions (Houk 1995; Davis 1985; Hurbon 1995). James T. Houk studied the Orisha religion of Trinidad using the Jay D. Edwards model, which identifies two types of syncretism: simple syncretism, combining observable forms (e.g., using Catholic saints to disguise Yoruba deities in the incipient Vodun religion), and complex syncretisms, where meanings and attitudes of two distinct traditions coalesce. Thus ritual symbols take on new meanings as syncretic symbols are synthesized and reinterpreted through time. The coalescence of new and traditional symbols typically occurs in situations of forced culture change, where the minority group under duress initiates a revitalization movement (Houk 1995, 180–82). Applying current, broader applications of the revitalization movement model, syncretic Ndembu and Vodun rituals exemplify the emergence of political-religious movements that “represent a dynamic attempt to make sense of the world in new ways not fully present in either donor tradition,” for example, the indigenous and colonial cultures (Harkin 2004a, xxvi). For over a century anthropologists have written about revitalization movements, which are also called crisis cults, nativistic movements, messianic/prophet cults, or millennial/chiliastic movements (Levinson 1996, 190). James Mooney was the first to investigate a North American revitalization movement, the Ghost Dance that swept the Great Plains in 1890 (Harkin 2004a, xx–xxi). In his seminal monograph, The GhostDance Religion and the Sioux Outbreak of 1890, Mooney (1896) identified similar “Indian religious revivals” that were subsequently studied by anthropologists: the Klamath Earthlodge Cult and Dream Dance (Nash 1955, 420–35), the Smohalla Religion of the Columbia River, the Shakers of Puget Sound (Mooney 1896, 708– 63), and the Plains Grass Dance and Hand Game (Slotkin 1975, 18–19; Lesser 1933). Ralph Linton (1943, 230) subsequently called such revivals “nativistic” movements because they involve a “conscious, organized attempt on the part of a society’s members to revive or perpetuate selected aspects of its culture.” Next Anthony F. C. Wallace (1956) identified six behavioral patterns, or types 14 INTRODUCTION

of “revitalization movements” based on the ethnographic literature: (1) nativistic movements oriented toward eliminating the dominant culture; (2) revitalization movements to revive cultural traditions from the past or those that are currently threatened; (3) cargo cults, as found in Melanesia, where the indigenous peoples adopt “alien values, customs, and material” culture (cargo); (4) vitalistic movements, which involve the adoption of alien values and customs, but not with “ship and cargo as the mechanism”; (5) millenarian movements that promise a “supernatural transformation of the world into some idealized state”; and (6) messianic movements wherein a prophesied savior will transform the world into an idealized state. Revitalization movements can manifest some or most of these characteristics (Wallace 1956, 267; Ryan 1969, 186). For instance, the Ghost Dance featured revitalistic, millenarian, and messianic behavioral patterns, with strong emphasis on nativism (Mooney 1896; Lesser 1933; Slotkin 1975, 17–21). Revitalization movements are recurrent throughout human history. Major religions (and their subforms), including Judaism, Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, and, more recently, Mormonism, emerged as syncretic new religions manifesting millenarian and messianic characteristics. European history since the Middle Ages has been replete with revitalization movements, and, as Wallace (2004, ix) has recently observed, “revitalization does “not merely occur among the fringe peoples of the world but, in fact, happens in the belly of the beast as well.” Typically, however, anthropological studies have focused on the revitalization movements that have sprung up throughout the world among indigenous populations in Africa, the Americas, the Caribbean, and Melanesia, where, in the context of Western colonialism, native peoples have been subjected to and oppressed by colonial rule (Ryan 1969, 188; Levinson 1996, 189–90, 193). Following Wallace’s lead article, scholars began focusing on stress and cultural deprivation to explain revitalization movements. For instance, James Slotkin (1975) examined syncretic religions of native North America created during the height of acculturative pressures exerted by the dominant Anglo society. According to his deprivation model, unabated discrimination results in the disruption and breakdown of tribal and ethnic social organization and their subversion to “marginal” status in the new social order. Prolonged discrimination eventually produces “group unity INTRODUCTION 15

and solidarity” among “marginal persons” who resent their subordinate status. Groups rejecting and attempting to change their relative status to the dominant group are “nationalistic” action groups (Slotkin 1975, 1–5). Slotkin describes nationalism as a movement to “overthrow the domination-subordination relation socially by means of militant nationalism” utilizing military, political, or economic tactics or magico-religious means to produce “distinct societies.” Nativistic nationalism, on the other hand, attempts to achieve change culturally through the creation of syncretic symbols opposing the dominant group; the symbols are syncretic because acculturation brings about irreversible culture change, making it “impossible to revive the traditional culture.” “In addition to this changed culture pattern, some persisting traditional customs are continued, others previously discarded are revived, and innovations are adopted which seem symbolic of that ethnic group. Customs forced upon it by the dominant ethnic group . . . are discarded, as well as other customs which seem symbolic of the dominant group” (Slotkin 1975, 5– 6). In Slotkin’s model both types of nationalistic movements attempt to “reverse the acculturation cycle.” Militant nationalism uses physical or “social” means—warfare—to achieve its purpose, whereas nativistic nationalism is more passive, its adherents employing “cultural” means to establish syncretic symbols representing the ethos of the oppressed culture. Slotkin (1975, 6–7) suggests that cultural revivals or nativistic movements reflect how oppressed peoples respond to acculturative pressures and that these movements often produce syncretic religions whose symbols reflect the group’s values and objectives, their ethos and worldview. That people turn to different forms of religious expressions during periods of stress supports Clifford Geertz’s (1973, 99–100) view that religious symbols act to establish order out of chaos, which is similar to Turner’s idea that ritual and the implementation of antistructure (“the blurring of the social roles . . . that occurs in the ritual context”) are critical in the context of culture change (Pandian 1991, 84). In conjunction with deprivation or stress models, the syncretic religions that appear during nativistic movements have been called “cults of despair” because they spring up overnight in response to acculturative stress (Jacobs 1987, 135; Slotkin 1975, 17). Thus revitalization movements have been interpreted as social movements wherein culturally oppressed 16 INTRODUCTION

peoples attempt to reverse their lowly status in an imposed social structure. David Aberle (1982, 318–20) calls them “transformative” movements because the constituents strive to transform their marginality into a higher level of existence during their lifetime (Jorgensen 1972, 6–7). Such movements arise “in a pre-existing group, or sub-group, frequently an ethnic or religious body in which individuals are feeling severe stress and anxiety at the apparent loss of meaningful life in the existing sociocultural structure. In the depths of collective helplessness, the anxious and apathetic group is awakened, united, and enthused by a prophetic destiny which is to be theirs” (Ryan 1969, 186). Accordingly the prophecies motivating culturally depressed groups to organize “revivals” are founded in syncretic symbols projecting a “glorious future state” based in the “legends of a glorious past” (Ryan 1969, 186), whereas the connected doctrines promise that the dominant population will be eliminated with the “rebirth” of the oppressed people. Ritualistic expressions of revitalization movements range from “elaborate” rituals founded in “indigenous ceremonialism” to “amorphous mass hysteria.” In his study of religious revivalism on the Klamath Reservation, Philleo Nash (1955, 377, 442) determined that revitalization ceremonies are laden with ritual symbols revealing the deprivation and destitution felt by the performers, their attitudes, and their prescribed course of action. Contrary to Wallace’s identification of Peyotism as a revitalization movement, Aberle (1982, 320–21) identified the Native American Church among the Navajos as a “redemptive” movement because its followers passively sought a better way of life (Carucci 2004, 220). Ryan (1969, 184) subsequently labeled Peyotism an “expressive” movement that occurs “in circumstances wherein disturbed and upset people are unable to act overtly in reference to their frustrations.” He also called them “inward” movements because their purpose is the “reformation of soul and mind rather than of society and culture” (184). Expressive movements occur where people in a “disintegrating cultural world” are “overwhelmed by an unacceptable social order.” Involvement in expressive movements provides “individual gratification by virtue of participation” (184). Stated differently, expressive or redemptive movements are attempts to change the individual, not the social order (Aberle 1982, 320; Jorgensen 1972, 6–7). INTRODUCTION 17

Ryan’s model suggests that the constituents of expressive movements do not actively seek to change their low socioeconomic status. When social change does occur, it is a latent function resulting from the “collective actions” of the group, whose members are merely trying to cope with the new social order. Accordingly the Peyote rite that diffused north and east to the Southern Plains circa 1870 was an expressive movement that eschewed the transformative nativism of the Ghost Dance yet rejected Anglo values, slowly gaining acceptance among Oklahoma’s American Indians (Ryan 1969, 184–86; Voget 1956; Linton 1943; Stewart 1987). Adherents of the Peyote religion—which flourished into a Pan-Indian religion in the 1880s and 1890s—peacefully sought to conciliate with the dominant white culture. It has been suggested that the passive nature of Peyote worshipers represents the influence of Christianity on this syncretic religion that formally became the Native American Church in 1918 (LaBarre 1938, 43n; Slotkin 1975, 20). Recent reinterpretations of the revitalization paradigm have identified numerous problems with this older, functionalist model—also influenced by the culture and personality school—which was useful in the interpretation of the “classic” revitalization movements (Poyer 2004, 139; Siikala 2004, 88–89; Glowacki 2011, 68). Contemporary scholars label Wallace’s (2004, viii) model “equilibrium” theory because acculturative pressures and cultural disruption are expected to produce “stress-reducing techniques [that] multiply and differentiate,” creating equilibrium, or stability (Siikala 2004, 89): “Wallace’s . . . typical description of revitalization begins and ends with a steady state of the society” (88); “revitalization movements represent a transitional phase between two functionally organized ‘steady states’” (Roscoe 2004, 163). Hence a “classic revitalization movement occurs when a group of people sharing a small-scale social order faces stress created by encounters with industrial society. . . . The movements take their distinctive forms . . . from the intense effort to come to grips with the facts of industrial production and the social forms that accompany it” (Poyer 2004, 139). Alice Kehoe (1989, 103–11, 121–27) and, more recently, Michael E. Harkin (2004a, xxii, xxviii–xxix; 2004b, 143) and others (Martin 2004, 67– 68), have pointed out that deprivation and acculturation interpretations, which are limited and even ethnocentric, have dominated the revitalization model. 18 INTRODUCTION

Four decades ago, LaBarre (1971, 8, 26) stated that such “theories of causality” had not provided any new revelations concerning revitalization movements, and he suggested that “particularist” analyses of culturally specific revitalization movements are not as useful as “allembracing synoptic surveys.” He emphasized a more multidisciplinary, holistic approach because “in scientific inquiry all theory need be is useful.” Contemporary anthropological thinking, however, indicates that “universal models” are not always helpful due to “atypical or even contradictory cases that seem to constitute falsification. . . . Perhaps it is better to view revitalization not as a scientific theory, subject to endless empirical critiques, but as closer to a literary genre, in which common elements combine to constitute a basic structure, which is then subject to transformations” (Harkin 2004b, 144). Most important, specific cultural data do not always fit “grand classificatory schemas, like revitalization,” which seem to be “intimately intertwined with discourses of the colonizers” (Carucci 2004, 206, 207). Therefore anthropological jargon and paradigms used to describe and interpret the behavior of non-Western peoples are biased because “anthropology was born and developed in the shadow of colonialism” (Levi-Strauss 1994, 425, cited in Borofsky 1994b, 7). Deprivation models, then, best describe historic or classic revitalization movements, although deprivation “is only one possible state of relations between indigenous groups and colonial societies. Others include parity and ascendancy” (Harkin 2004a, xxx; Martin 2004, 68– 69). According to Harkin (2004a, xxx), it is the movement between states, “rather than the absolute state, that will stimulate revitalization. Thus, a movement from deprivation to parity or ascendancy may provoke a revitalization, just as the reverse trajectory did.” As opposed to predicting revitalization movements in response to deprivation or stress, this all-inclusive model also pertains to modern-day cultural revivals: gaming, the invention of tradition, language revival, healing, ethnomedicine, massage therapy, and even “indigenized Christianity” (Harkin 2004a, xxix, xxx; Martin 2004, 74–75, 84–85; Henry 2004, 247, 252–53, 257). Conversion to Christianity, the “religion of the oppressor” (Wallace 2004, vii–viii, ix), is logical in cases where missionaries have “expose[d] weaknesses in traditional practices and ideologies” to neophytes who interpret Christianity as a new INTRODUCTION 19

“form of supernatural power” (Harkin 2004a, xxiv, xxviii). Oftentimes Christianity is the “first line of psychological defense” when people are subjected to stress from the outside world (Poyer 2004, 128). Significantly native peoples can appropriate, modify, and reinterpret Christianity to fit in with their changing lives (Martin 2004, 84–85). Due to broader interpretations of the revitalization model, a wide range of phenomena associated with revitalization movements have been identified. For instance, revitalization movements “are oppositional, arising among cultural minorities, catalyzed by the moral and political crises of colonial and postcolonial hegemony. Some are separatist or retreatist, while others are explicitly confrontational” (Lepowsky 2004, 48). In many cases ritual violence characteristic of indigenous cultures is incorporated into revitalization movements, assuming multiple guises, including “witchcraft, sorcery, shamanic attack, feuding, or raiding,” activities that can be directed toward outsiders or within the group itself (49). Revitalization movements are also mimetic, in that the practitioners “mime the dead of their own culture, an imagined spirit world, Europeans, or some combination of these. Mimesis is . . . a creative mirroring of the relevant other, as well as a modeling of connections between self and other” (Harkin 2004b, 144). Harkin also believes that revitalization movements follow a trajectory from progressive, the “attempt to resolve psychological problems by projecting them forward into the future and the level of the numinous,” to cathartic, dwelling “on psychological conflicts without attempting to transform or resolve them” (156). Finally, internal conflicts within indigenous groups can arise because on a personal level, people do not always perceive revitalization movements the same way and frequently clash over control of the meanings of symbols that distinguish them from the colonizers (Nesper 2004, 239, 232). This is where symbolic analysis is crucial to understanding revitalization movements, because “symbols are constantly evoked during cultural presentations” (McMullen 2004, 271) that are observable. Years ago Linton (1943, 231) wrote that in nativistic movements, “certain current or remembered elements of a culture are selected for emphasis and given symbolic value. The more distinctive such elements are with respect to other cultures with which the society is in contact, the greater their 20 INTRODUCTION

potential value as symbols of the society’s unique character.” Symbols, as invented traditions, represent “the ideological manipulation of heritage,” so “selecting aspects of culture to be revived, perpetuated, and given new symbolic value is pragmatic and based on things that may actually work in the present” (McMullen 2004, 262). Thus meaning evoked through the manipulated symbols of revitalization movements provides clues to understanding the moods, motivations, and identity of the participants. Harkin (2004a, xxi) believes that revitalization movements are “specific historical sets of events with a determinate trajectory” commonly connected with time, because “they are predicated on the possibility of a transformation of mundane time and history into a return to a ‘Myth Time.’” From an ethnohistorical perspective, it is possible to “examine the dialogic space between the two cultures,” in other words, to examine “the actions of the cultists” in comparison to the “expectations that colonial agents had of them.” Revitalization movements, then, should be examined in terms of the interplay between the colonial and indigenous cultures, keeping in mind that there are no isolated cultures (xxiii, xxvi, xxxiv). Undoubtedly the cultural systems of non-Western peoples—the “Other”—have been affected by over five hundred years of colonial processes (Borofsky 1994a, 317). Isolated cultures developing in a vacuum without outside influences “have probably never existed,” and if we as anthropologists “sharpen our ethnohistorical tools,” we will discover that the people whose cultures we study “have in some way been affected by the knowledge of other worlds, worlds about which they may have learned through migration, trade, conquest, or indigenous narratives” (Appadurai 1992, 37). Native peoples, therefore, “are creatures of the anthropological imagination” (37), so anthropologists writing ethnographic descriptions about the Other should recognize the historic processes that have created today’s complex world, which can be identified through sound ethnohistorical methods. Recent analyses of the Ghost Dance expound on this methodology. In his study of the 1870 and 1890 Ghost Dance movements that originated among the Northern Paiutes (Bannocks), Gregory E. Smoak (2006, 199) suggests that the older deprivation model, which explains external motivations for the Ghost Dance, has “nearly overshadowed the values of identity and cultural persistence that Indian peoples attached to the dances.” INTRODUCTION 21

As the 1890 movement diffused northward from the Great Basin to the Plateau, and then eastward to the Plains, emergent identities developed among those who adopted the dance. This syncretic, incorporative religion “provided a flexible doctrine that held the power to explain native peoples’ current situation and prophesy their survival.” The doctrine provoked resistance to federal assimilation policy and contributed to the formation of tribal and pan-tribal identities (196). According to Smoak, scrutinizing the historical variables related to the adoption of the Ghost Dance can reveal the perspectives of those who participated in the dance versus those who opposed it. Understanding the “interplay between culture and history, preexisting belief and deprivation, and internal order and external motivation” is essential because “cultures are a product of history” (201). In a similar study, Rani-Henrik Andersson (2008) examined historical documents related to the Lakota Ghost Dance and determined that most sources lack a Lakota point of view. Moreover, “most fail to put the ghost dance in a wider cultural and social context.” Andersson noted that the documents he perused do not reveal “facts” but different perspectives that “must be interpreted in the context of the late nineteenth century” (xii). Notably not all Lakotas accepted the Ghost Dance, though it offered hope to true believers and “returned religious ceremonies to a central place in their daily lives”; to them the dance “represented spiritual renewal and a chance for social and economic betterment” (xi, 271). Lakotas interpreted the Ghost Dance in terms of their own culture. Indigenous Lakota religious beliefs were “constantly changing and adapting to new circumstances,” so logically there was no universal Ghost Dance doctrine because it was experientially shaped by “individual trances and visions” (28, 40). Contrary to theories of relative deprivation, Smoak and Andersson have demonstrated that the Ghost Dance was a forwardlooking movement promising a better future. Collectively these interpretative models will help elucidate the various revitalization movements that affected the Kiowas after the onset of the reservation period: shamanism, the Hand Game, sorcery, prophet movements, the Ghost Dance, Peyote religion, and incipient Christianity. Documents written between 1875 and 1945 demonstrate the inner conflicts within Kiowa society as certain individuals and groups initially 22 INTRODUCTION

opposed the Peyote religion and Ghost Dance, questioned the efficacy of prophets, and resisted conversion to Christianity. Non-Indian opposition to the new religions is evident in the correspondence between agency superintendents, missionaries, and other “friends” of the Indian, whereas Native leaders and devotees expressed their support of the movements. In particular the Peyote religion and the development of the Native American Church, prophet movements and the rise and fall of the Ghost Dance, and conversion to Christianity are all discussed in the following chapters. Sources Following their surrender in May and June 1875, culture change came rapidly to the former bison hunters and raiders turned beef-and-commodityfed dependents. During the 1880s several revitalization movements swept through Kiowa country due to the demise of the Southern Plains bison herds and the passing of the horse and buffalo culture. Other factors contributing to these movements included the collapse of the Sun Dance in 1890 and the passing of dream shield societies and some sodalities; those that survived remained dormant. Disrupted inheritance patterns also caused the medicine shields to “stop” because many Kiowa shield and bundle owners died without passing on their dɔdɔ. Although inheritance patterns for the Taime and the Ten Medicines bundles were disrupted, an elite few managed to care for them and, whenever necessary, renewed the bundles they possessed. Despite these changes, the belief in dɔdɔ central to Kiowa cosmology remained intact. In the 1880s various Kiowa shamans claiming powers of prophecy attempted to manipulate their dɔdɔ to restore the bison herds and reestablish the old order. Ultimately they were unsuccessful. Shamans also engaged in power contests, gambling, and sorcery as they competed for hegemony in the spiritual vacuum created by the collapse of the Sun Dance in 1890. Finally convinced that the bison herds would not return, many Kiowas invested their energies in the Ghost Dance religion, brought to the Anadarko Agency by Sitting Bull, the Arapaho proselytizer, whose version of the ritual resulted from his pilgrimage to visit the “messiah” Wovoka in Walker Lake, Nevada. Ä′piatañ “Wooden Lance,” the Kiowa skeptic, also met Wovoka, then denounced the new religion INTRODUCTION 23

to an intertribal assembly in Anadarko in February 1891.11 The movement lost momentum, but within three years a revised Ghost Dance gained popularity in several communities and persisted for over twenty years. Although prophet movements and the Ghost Dance ended in the early twentieth century, some secular elements associated with them survived, including songs and dances, giveaways, and the Hand Game. Before its demise the Ghost Dance religion filled the spiritual void left by the collapse of the Sun Dance and served as a stepping stone toward conversion to Christianity. Although the primary purpose of the 1935 Santa Fe field school was to reconstruct the indigenous horse and buffalo culture before its collapse, information was also collected about the revitalization movements that began in the 1880s. Details about shamanism and its connection to the Hand Game were provided by Max Frizzlehead to Donald Collier. Kintadl (Moth Woman) discussed the Water Turtle powers of Tonakɔt to Jane Richardson, as did Mary Buffalo to Weston LaBarre. Jim Ahtone related stories of Tonakɔt and the Hand Game to William Bascom. With George Hunt interpreting, Tsoodle gave eyewitness accounts about the prophets of the 1880s to LaBarre. David Paddlety and Andrew Stumbling Bear also interpreted for LaBarre; otherwise Charley Apekaum interpreted for LaBarre and Collier. Conrad Mausape translated for Haumpy, and Monroe Tsatoke translated for Hunting Horse during Bascom’s interviews. Though Richardson described Lone Bear as an “unwilling informant,” he nevertheless described his involvement in the Sons of the Sun movement. Charley’s father (Old Man Apekaum) also witnessed the prophet movements and told LaBarre about them. Tsoodle, Jimmy Quoetone, and Max Frizzlehead also offered details about the Sun People. Sanko (Prickly Pear) described the prophet movements to Richardson, who did not identify interpreters in her typed field notes. Though she was not associated with the Santa Fe field party, Alice Marriott (University of Oklahoma) also worked with the Kiowas during the mid-1930s. From interviews with Frank Given and George Hunt, interpreted by Ioleta Hunt MacElhaney, Marriott obtained some information about the prophet movements, the Ghost Dance, and the War Dance. Mooney’s (1896) firsthand accounts in The Ghost-Dance Religion and the Sioux Outbreak of 1890 provide most of the information regarding 24 INTRODUCTION

the 1890– 91 movement among the Cheyennes, Arapahos, and Kiowas of Oklahoma Territory. More recent studies by Michael Hittman (1977), Gregory E. Smoak (2006), and Rani-Henrik Andersson (2008) have shed more light on the Ghost Dance movement that affected approximately thirty tribes. In 1935 Old Man Apekaum discussed his participation in the nascent Ghost Dance rite with LaBarre. Though claiming to be a Ghost Dance skeptic, Tsoodle provided LaBarre with lots of information, as did Heap O’ Bears. Jimmy Quoetone also provided details to Collier. Guy Quoetone, who interpreted for his father, visited Ghost Dance encampments in the 1910s and wrote about his experiences. Copies were graciously shared with me by his son, Rev. Charles “Nick” Quoetone. In the early 1990s I was fortunate to interview two elders, Weiser Tongkeamha and Alice Littleman, who had witnessed the Ghost Dance before its demise in 1916. Lophophora williamsii, or Peyote, commonly confused with Sophora secundiflora, the mescal “bean,” is a small, green, spineless cactus occurring in single or small clusters of “buttons” attached to a taproot; it grows on both sides of the Rio Grande River (Stewart 1987, 3; Swan 1999, 8). The ethnobotanist Richard Evans Schultes (1937, 132–34) identified nine anhalonium alkaloids in Peyote, the most significant of which is mescaline, the “vision-inducing,” hallucinogenic alkaloid producing a “kaleidoscopic play of richly colored visions” for those consuming the cactus. He described Peyote as a divine messenger to God. Peyote use among the Kiowas and Comanches dates to at least 1850, when it was used in divination rites performed for departing war parties, but when the nascent Peyote rite became popular in the 1880s, it met opposition from a group of conservative warriors. In the long run, however, Peyotism outlived the other religious movements that appeared between 1870 and 1890, except for Christianity. Several important sources describe the origin of the Southern Plains Peyote rite and the diffusion of the new religion throughout the TransMississippi West by Kiowa, Comanche, and Plains Apache proselytizers, and they elucidate the basic Kiowa- Comanche ceremony (LaBarre 1938; Slotkin 1975; Anderson 1980; Stewart 1987; Swan 1999; Maroukis 2010), so it is not necessary to reiterate all the details of the origin of the ceremony or to describe a typical Half Moon meeting. These topics will be INTRODUCTION 25

covered only in relation to the nascent Peyote rite among the Kiowas. Likewise these authors have elucidated recurrent anti-Peyote campaigns between 1886, when Peyote was first noticed by the Kiowa agent J. Lee Hall, and passage of HR 4230, the 1994 American Indian Religious Freedom Act Amendments; my coverage of the anti-Peyote movement pertains to its effects on the Kiowas. In early 1891 James Mooney visited Oklahoma Territory to investigate the Ghost Dance religion and first encountered the Kiowas, who became his favorite tribe (Ewers 1979, vii–viii). For the next three decades Mooney conducted intermittent fieldwork with the Kiowas, until recalled by the Smithsonian Institution in 1918, ostensibly for defending the Peyote rite; most of his data were collected between 1893 and 1903. After witnessing a Peyote ceremony during the summer of 1891, Mooney attended numerous Kiowa and Comanche meetings, and in 1897 began traveling throughout the Southwest and northern Mexico, trying to reconstruct the origin and diffusion of the religion to the Southern Plains. Renowned as the first non-Indian to participate in the ceremony and take photographs, Mooney gave public lectures and published several articles describing and defending the sacramental use of Peyote by Native Americans (Hinsley 1981, 182–88, 219; Maroukis 2010, 8, 27–29). Otherwise he made only brief references to Señi (prickly fruit) as a medicine in Calendar History of the Kiowa Indians (Mooney 1898, 237–39). Members of the 1935 Santa Fe field party were the next ethnologists to participate in a Peyote ceremony. In mid-August they were welcomed into a tipi meeting sponsored by Mary Buffalo’s son, Homer, and his wife, Alice Take-It-Out.12 LaBarre wrote that Homer hosted the thanksgiving meeting because Mary, Alice, and several family members had recently recovered from various illnesses. Clyde Ahtape, Alice’s brother, was the Roadman, or leader of the meeting, attended by twenty participants, including LaBarre, William Bascom, Donald Collier, Jane Richardson, Charley Apekaum, Old Man Apekaum, Mary Buffalo, Ernest and Stella Kokome, and several others; that women now attended Peyote meetings was a departure from earlier ceremonies attended by Mooney. Shortly before dawn Alice brought in a bucket of water for the morning prayers. When prayers were finished over an hour later, the young anthropologists were asked if they wished to say anything. LaBarre 26 INTRODUCTION

spoke: “Both for myself and for my friends, I should like to express our appreciation of the kindness and courtesy, and hospitality of our Kiowa friends. I am sure we know much more about Peyote than we did before and are thus prepared to sympathize with this sacred religious ceremony of the Kiowa, to which we have been so courteously invited.” Richardson also conveyed her thanks: “I’d like to say a few words too. This has been a beautiful and a wonderful ceremony, for which we wish to express our appreciation.” LaBarre reported that during the course of the ritual, he ingested four Peyote buttons, Bascom and Collier each ate six, and Richardson accounted for three. The Kiowa participants ate at least ten buttons, though Richardson claimed she saw Stella consume at least sixteen.13 Bascom briefly described the all-night ceremony in his fieldnotes.14 Attending Homer Buffalo’s Peyote meeting would not have occurred without the support of chief interpreter Charley Apekaum, who helped the students gain rapport with Kiowa Peyotists that summer. Despite initial resistance from Enoch Smokey, president of the Kiowa chapter of the Native American Church,15 and Jim Waldo (Kogaitadl, or Lean Elk), Charley advocated for the students because he believed it was important for anthropologists to record cultural knowledge that could be used to enlighten non-Indians (LaBarre 1957, 130, 49–50, 54), especially about the Peyote religion that was threatened by federal antiPeyote legislation. Using Charley as his interpreter, LaBarre interviewed Bagyanoi (Recovery Many Things), Andrew Stumbling Bear (1868– 1951), and Old Man Apekaum, though David Paddlety also interpreted for Charley’s father. George Hunt interpreted during interviews with Tsoodle. Other Peyotists interviewed by LaBarre included Mary Buffalo, White Fox, Lone Bear, and the interpreters Bert Geikauma, Homer Buffalo, and Ned Brace. Christian converts Sanko, Jimmy Quoetone, and Hunting Horse also discussed the Peyote religion with LaBarre. In separate interviews Lone Bear provided information to Collier, and Haumpy worked with Bascom. LaBarre resumed his Peyote research in southwestern Oklahoma during the summer of 1936 and was joined by Richard Evans Schultes (Harvard University). Charley Apekaum again served as liaison and principal interpreter. Jim Waldo initially opposed their research because PeyINTRODUCTION 27

otists were reticent to discuss their beliefs with outsiders. At the time, Christian Kiowas harbored strong anti-Peyote sentiments, stimulated by missionaries who taught intolerance toward other religions, especially those that involved using “dangerous drugs” like Peyote. LaBarre and his colleagues, however, championed the rights of American Indians to freely participate in Peyote meetings, which undoubtedly facilitated rapport-building. Waldo eventually assisted LaBarre. The following year LaBarre and Collier helped defeat Senate Bill 1399 by submitting documents defending the Peyote religion. Had the bill passed into law, interstate shipments from the Peyote gardens near Laredo, Texas—the only source—would become illegal, thus curtailing the supply of Peyote to Indians in other states.16 In 1938 LaBarre published his dissertation on the Peyote religion in The Peyote Cult. Field notes from his Peyote studies, housed in the National Anthropological Archives, provide good information about Kiowa Peyotists, as does his unpublished autobiography of Charley Apekaum (LaBarre 1957).17 Other sources on Peyote are materials from the U.S. National Archives, Record Group 75, and the Newberry Library. Most documents pertain to the anti-Peyote movement.18 Christian missionaries first came to the KCA Reservation in 1869, when U. S. Grant’s “peace policy” was implemented. The Indian Office was now governed by Quakers, who hired agents, teachers, and other personnel to administer provisions of the Medicine Lodge Treaty designed to “civilize” Indians through education and religious instruction. By the time the Quaker agents were replaced in 1877, they had established a school at Fort Sill for Indian children and provided religious services at the agency. Following the departure of the Quakers, there were no missions among the KCA Indians for the next ten years. Between 1877 and 1887 several religious organizations unsuccessfully attempted to bring Christianity to the KCA Indians, perceived as “wild blanket Indians” in “darkness” without Christians in their midst. Following the passage of the 1887 Dawes, or General Allotment Act, several Christian denominations petitioned the Department of the Interior to build missions on the reservation. For the next fourteen years several missions and religious boarding schools opened and prospered in Kiowa country. The “opening” of the former reservation on August 6, 1901, marked the beginning of the postallotment era in which KCA 28 INTRODUCTION

Indians lived on individual allotments, engulfed by non-Indians who homesteaded “surplus” lands. Despite these changes Christianity gained momentum, and the new converts were indoctrinated to reject Peyotism, the Ghost Dance, the War Dance, and certain Indian customs. Nevertheless Christianity slowly diffused as missionaries took the gospel to remote parts of the KCA jurisdiction. Newly formed congregations participated in “cottage meetings” at various homes or gathered at camp meetings and Christmas encampments until enough money was raised to build churches. During the Second World War, Kiowas desiring to attend church services were restricted by transportation problems. Even in the age of automobiles, purchasing gasoline was difficult because of government rations. Those obtaining gas stamps still had problems getting out because of poor roads and great distances—from east to west, it’s fifty-eight miles from Anadarko to Hobart—and those attending church services did not travel more than six or seven miles. During the midcentury six or seven miles was as good as fifty, even with cars, according to Billy Amauty (b. 1930), a member of Ware’s Chapel United Methodist Church.19 After the war the spread of Christianity coincided with a strong economy, population growth, and urban migration. Today numerous “family” churches of Methodist and Baptist affiliation dot the harsh landscape of Kiowa, Caddo, and Comanche counties, though attendance has waned in recent years. Nevertheless all Kiowas are nominally Christian and are associated with a particular church through family ties. Information about early missions and schools on the KCA Reservation is found in the reports of Indian agents published in the annual reports of the commissioner of Indian Affairs. Materials from Record Group 75, housed in the U.S. National Archives, include correspondence between missionaries, the Kiowa Agency, and the Indian Office. Categories 810, 816, and 816.2 contain documents pertaining to the mission societies that established churches and schools on the reservation. Other materials are found in Kiowa Special Cases 143, a file with letters and reports describing Kiowa history between 1887 and 1901, especially correspondence regarding allotment, missions, and schools. Firsthand accounts published by missionaries also provide rich information about some of the early mission work among the Kiowas. Thomas INTRODUCTION 29

C. Battey, a Quaker, arrived at the Wichita Agency on October 31, 1871, to teach Caddo children. Two years later he accepted Kicking Bird’s offer to teach children in his encampment and stayed with the Kiowas until July 18, 1875. Upon returning to his home in Iowa, Battey (1968) wrote The Life and Adventures of a Quaker among the Indians, which describes his time among the Kiowas during the climax of the Southern Plains wars. Other personal accounts of mission work among the Kiowas include John J. Methvin’s (n.d.) In the Limelight, or History of Anadarko [Caddo County] and Vicinity from the Earliest Days and two books by Isabel Crawford, who lived among the Saddle Mountain Kiowas from 1896 until 1906: From Tent to Chapel at Saddle Mountain (n.d.) and Kiowa: The History of a Blanket Indian Mission (1915). Her descriptions of Kiowa religious beliefs and practices are not as biased as Methvin’s. Although Jimmy Quoetone, David Paddlety, Sanko, and others interviewed by members of the 1935 Santa Fe field party were Christian converts, the anthropology students did not collect any information regarding Christianity. However, Charley Apekaum discussed Christianity in his autobiography (LaBarre 1957). Hugh D. Corwin, a retired Lawton businessman, began interviewing Kiowa elders in 1962, including Rev. Albert Horse, son of Hunting Horse and interpreter for the 1935 Santa Fe field party; Jimmy Quoetone’s son Guy Quoetone, who also served as an interpreter; his granddaughter Helen Quoetone Curley; and others. Corwin’s (1958a) book The Kiowa Indians: Their History and Life Stories provides good information about early Christian converts. Data concerning post-1930s Christianity were obtained from my interviews initially conducted in early 1987 and during subsequent field trips. Members of the Methodist and Baptist (and formerly Pentecostal) churches scattered throughout Kiowa country are more than happy to share stories regarding the early Christian converts and the history of family churches. Indeed these oral traditions are rich. Other information is derived from histories compiled by some churches, for instance, Rainy Mountain Baptist Church (Nahwooksy 1993), Mount Scott Methodist Church (Twohatchet 1996), and Redstone Baptist Church. Since 1987 I’ve attended Sunday services in many of the churches, especially Saddle Mountain Baptist Church.

30 INTRODUCTION

Separate coverage of each religion is somewhat problematic since Christianity and Peyote both arrived in Kiowa country during the 1870s, followed by prophet movements in the 1880s and the Ghost Dance. Since the Peyote rite and Ghost Dance built upon Christianity, it’s best to relate how these religions were interwoven since their inception. Hence separate chapters discuss the interplay of these religions during the Reservation Period (1869–1901), the Postallotment Period (1901–45), and the post– World War II period. The roles these religions play today is also discussed.

INTRODUCTION 31

1 Christianity, Peyotism, Shamanism, and Prophecy from the Reservation Period to Statehood, 1869–1906 The Reservation Period began shortly after the Medicine Lodge Treaty went into effect. According to James Mooney (1898, 182), the treaty marked “the beginning of the end” for the Kiowas, Comanches, Plains Apaches, Cheyennes, and Arapahos, especially in the wake of the Southern Plains wars. As the Kiowas transitioned to reservation life, religious change occurred with the introduction of Christianity and Peyotism. Many nonconverts, however, tenaciously clung to shamanic traditions or followed prophets promising to return the buffalo. Some openly opposed the new religions, especially Peyote. The Quaker Years, 1869–77 In 1870 construction of a school south of the Fort Sill Agency commenced. Built of local stone, the two-story, shingle-roofed schoolhouse opened on February 20, 1871, and the first four students belonged to the Penateka Comanche band of Esihabit (Milky Way). Ironically his band was registered at the Wichita Agency in Anadarko, so none of the original students was from the Fort Sill Agency. Afraid to sleep in the upstairs dormitory section of the building, the Comanche students lived in tipis until they felt acclimated enough to stay with the other students, who were Caddos (Corwin 1958a, 108, 88–89). On May 17, 1871, Lone Wolf and a group of Kiowas visited the school, expressing interest in having their children educated by Josiah Butler, the Quaker teacher, although the distant location of the school 33

made it difficult for them to bring their children (Corwin 1958a, 92). Another school was established at the Wichita Agency that spring and was operated by A. J. Standing, also a Quaker, then Battey (Methvin n.d.a, 32). The Wichita agent Jonathan Richards hired Dr. Fordyce Grinnell as agency physician, who in his spare time taught the gospel to the Wichita and Caddo bands living north of the Washita River (Methvin n.d.a, 45; Hume 1951, 113–14). Battey taught at the Wichita School for two years before leaving for the Kiowa camps, where he opened a school in a tipi in Kicking Bird’s village of “peaceful” Kiowas on January 23, 1873. On that day his class of twenty-two pupils was interrupted by a hatchet-wielding warrior, whom Battey physically removed from the tipi. Several days later Battey learned that the man’s behavior stemmed from rumors that Battey had caused illness among Caddo children due to his “bad medicine,” undoubtedly linked to the fact that numerous children in Kicking Bird’s camp suffered from colds that winter, upsetting many of the adults. Battey was allowed to remain in camp only after gaining approval from a council (Battey 1968, 115–20). Nevertheless Battey’s efforts among Kicking Bird’s people were unsuccessful (Corwin 1958a, 97), partially due to his failing health and the Kiowa-Comanche “outbreak” of 1874–75. For instance, in 1874 there were thirty-nine pupils at the Fort Sill Agency School, but none of the students was from the agency, and none of the sixty students in 1875 were Kiowas.1 After the cessation of the Red River War, members of the Mount Scott Kiowa community began sending their children to the Fort Sill School, which was in operation from November 1875 to June 1876; approximately seventy Kiowa and Comanche children attended the school during that period, causing overcrowding problems. Dangerous Eagle, a Kiowa chief, served as interpreter.2 After a brief hiatus the school was reopened in November 1876.3 Among the prominent Mount Scott Kiowas attending the school were Kicking Bird II, Virginia Stumbling Bear, Lucius Aitson, Ton-hone, and Kah-bole (Left Hand). Attendance increased until the school was closed in 1878, when the agency moved to Anadarko (Corwin 1958a, 107, 100). Satisfied that the Kiowas and Comanches were completely humiliated following the “outbreak,” Indian Commissioner John Q. Smith 34 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

was convinced that they were willing “to enter upon a civilized mode of life.”4 Agent J. M. Haworth also felt that Quaker teachings were helping his charges: Besides our regular morning-meeting, which many Indians attend, it has been our custom to have one meeting each Sabbath for religious instruction, especially for the benefit of the adult Indians, in which they have manifested very great interest, both in attendance and attention; and, instead of fleeing from fright or trembling with superstitious fear, as they did a few years ago, when the guidance and blessings of the Great Spirit were invoked, either in their own language or in ours, they bow their heads in reverence and in some instances respond with deep feelings. I believe good has been accomplished by these meetings.5 Haworth’s observation of Indian reverence for Quaker Christian practices reflects that the Kiowas, like most American Indians, tolerate other religions and believe it is disrespectful to show irreverence during any religious ceremony. Nevertheless, in some instances Kiowas disdained missionaries who preached against Native religious beliefs. Hayworth’s reference to “deep feelings” reflects that Indian prayers are “deeply emotional cries for help and sustenance” and that Native celebrants typically manifest such “experiential religious emotions” (Hultkrantz 1989, 8; Hultkrantz 1990, 168). Such heartfelt prayers rendered today often amaze non-Indian observers (Kracht 2000, 236). In Haworth’s last annual report, filed in 1877, he noted that his charges were optimistic toward Christianity: “It is very gratifying to note the fact of the continued interest manifested by the regular attendance of a large number of Indians at the religious meetings, and the anxiety manifested by some of them to learn more of the white man’s road in that respect. . . . Quite a number expressed themselves glad of the opportunities given them of learning about the Great Spirit’s ways as taught in the book which we had given.”6 Despite increased success in their mission efforts, Quaker influence waned when P. B. Hunt, an Episcopalian, replaced Agent Haworth in 1878 and subsequently took over the consolidated agency in Anadarko. RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 35

Years later Reverend Methvin claimed that removing the Quakers from the Bureau of Indian Affairs led to political corruption at most Indian agencies (Methvin n.d.a, 46). Missions and Schools, 1876–87 Between 1876 and 1887 very little mission work was conducted among the KCA Indians and the Wichitas and Caddos. After the Quakers departed, Methvin (n.d.a, 45) lamented that the few Christian converts “were left like orphans,” even though a man claiming to be a Baptist minister came to Anadarko in 1876 or 1877 and stayed for a year, utilizing a plank building at the agency constructed by Agent Andrew C. Williams. Although his name was not recorded, the alleged minister lost popularity with the Wichitas and Caddos when he preached that “there was no definite experience in the Christian religion, and people could not know until death whether they were ordained for heaven or hell. This was so different from what they had been taught by the Friends and from what they realized in their own hearts, that they quit and would not hear this man any more, and he left” (45). In 1877 Robert Lake, asserting a Kiowa identity, visited Mormon elders in Salt Lake City, informing them that the Kiowas desired to be taught from the Book of Mormon. Accepting the challenge to proselytize in Indian Territory, elders Matthew W. Dalton and John Hubbard accompanied him in March to Vinita, northeast of present-day Tulsa, where they were abandoned by Lake, who proved to be a fraud. Their situation improved when they met Brother Antony Navair, a Pottawatomie convert. As a team, they preached among the Creeks and Cherokees, then finally made it to Kiowa country, but Hubbard died on September 12 and was buried somewhere along the Washita River in southwestern Indian Territory. Discouraged by the death of his colleague and opposition from Indians, Dalton returned home, ending the earliest and only attempt to convert Kiowas to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.7 Agent P. B. Hunt reported in 1879 that there were no permanent missionaries among the Kiowas and Comanches, though in the previous year Reverend Murrow, Major Ingalls, and former agent Lawrie Tatum had occasionally visited Indian camps to conduct mission work. Sometime that year John McIntosh (Creek), a Baptist minister, 36 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

came to the Anadarko Agency and occupied a building north of the river among the affiliated tribes. Delivering a more positive message than his predecessor, he preached at several encampments in newly constructed arbors, where he attracted large gatherings. Within a short period of time McIntosh’s congregation reached fifty members (Hume 1951, 114; Methvin n.d.a, 46). On June 23, 1881, Rev. J. B. Wicks, representing the “Protestant Episcopal church of the diocese of New York,” arrived in Anadarko with a former Fort Marion prisoner of war named Paul Zotom (Chewed Driftwood), a recently ordained deacon financially supported by a “noblehearted Christian lady” of Syracuse, New York, to become a missionary to the KCA Indians.8 During the next year Wicks intermittently conducted church services in the Kiowa- Comanche school, built during Hunt’s tenure on the south side of the Washita River, one-half mile west of the agency (Methvin n.d.a, 87), which averaged 103 students a month. Wicks desired to build a church for the Indians.9 Concomitant to Wicks’s work in Anadarko, Rev. H. S. P. Ashby, a Methodist minister representing the Northwest Texas Conference, preached at the Fort Sill subagency (Vernon 1980–81, 395). In 1883 Wicks, who also had ministered to the Cheyennes and Arapahos, permanently moved to Anadarko, as the new church, with a seating capacity of up to two hundred people, was almost finished; that year several youths were baptized and twelve were confirmed.10 According to Methvin (n.d.a, 86), Wicks built the church from the lumber of a wrecked house near Fort Sill that he bought from the trader C. A. Cleveland. Once the church was opened, weekly services were conducted, primarily for the Wichitas and Caddos, although Methvin (n.d.a, 84) claimed that services were more for whites at the agency than for the Indians and that Wicks’s mission work was chiefly in the two Indian schools in Anadarko.11 In 1885 Wicks took ill and retired, and there were no fulltime missionaries south of the Washita River until 1887, although Agent Hunt mentioned in his annual report that a Methodist preacher visited the agency once a month in 1885.12 Schools were obviously an important part of the Christian infrastructure, as school-age children were the primary targets for religious conversion (see Ellis 1996). Thus in 1879 two new boarding schools were RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 37

planned for the Kiowa Agency since the original two schools built by the Quakers in 1871 needed to be replaced: the school near the old Fort Sill Agency was abandoned in the fall of 1878, when the agency moved to Anadarko (Corwin 1958a, 100), and the school built for the Wichitas on the north banks of the Washita River burned down in 1878. After consolidating the former agencies in Anadarko, Agent Hunt had the old Wichita School rebuilt, and he ordered the construction of the new Kiowa School west of the agency. Students attended classes in several of the old agency buildings as these plans were being drafted (Methvin n.d.a, 87; Shannon 1971, 12, 19–22).13 The Wichita School, renamed Wichita Industrial Boarding School, reopened on October 1, 1879, with a capacity of 150 students. The Kiowa School across the river was not finished, so a makeshift school for Kiowa children was established in the physician’s quarters at the Fort Sill subagency, close to the original school. Both schools were filled to capacity in 1880 (Corwin 1958a, 97; Shannon 1971, 24–25). With one hundred students, the new Kiowa School opened in 1881. Monthly attendance averaged eighty-seven students, mostly Kiowas and a few Comanches.14 Attendance remained constant over the next several years, though in 1884, average monthly attendance dropped to fifty-three students.15 In his eighth and final annual report Agent Hunt stated that the average monthly attendance was back up to seventy-six students, but he did not note that the school had structural problems.16 Hunt’s successor, J. Lee Hall, however, mentioned that the Kiowa School was in bad shape.17 In his second annual report Hall noted that the badly dilapidated building served approximately fifteen students a month. Furthermore the parents of the Comanche children complained that they wanted their own school near the Fort Sill subagency.18 In 1888 Special Agent E. E. White claimed that both schools in Anadarko were inferior, especially the Kiowa School, which he feared would be unusable during the forthcoming winter. Because the school lacked a sick ward or hospital facilities, sick children were housed in the dormitories. Moreover both schools were overcrowded, compelling White to send children from the KCA Reservation to other schools, including Carlisle Industrial School, Haskell Institute, Chilocco Indian School, and Lincoln Institute in Philadelphia.19 38 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

The Proliferation of Missions and Schools, 1887–1906 The absence of missionaries and the dilapidated conditions of the two government boarding schools prompted Christian mission societies to establish missions and schools among the KCA Indians beginning in 1887. Inspired by the 1887 Dawes Act, a major victory for evangelical reformers (see Hoxie 1988, 204–28; Prucha 1976, 1978, 1984; Beaver 1988, 430– 58), several Christian denominations placed bids to open missions and schools among the Indians at the Kiowa Agency, as evidenced by Special Agent White’s only annual report in 1888: One hopeful indication for these Indians is the interest now being manifested in them by religious societies and mission boards. During the past year three missionaries have entered this field, and others see the great opportunities which it presents, and are preparing to come. The first to come was Rev. J. J. Methvin, of the Home Mission Board of the M[ethodist] E[piscopal] Church, South, who arrived here last fall. He was followed in the spring by Rev. G. W. Hicks, of the American Baptist Home Mission Society, and Miss J. M. Ballew, of the Territorial Baptist Convention. These people are all doing good work. Mr. Methvin preaches regularly at the agency, and seems to be working mainly among the Kiowas. Mr. Hicks and Miss Ballew are among the Wichitas and affiliated bands, many of whom are already members of the church. During the spring and early summer Miss Ballew taught a small day school at the Wichita church. . . . The mission boards of the Reformed Presbyterian Church of South [North] America and the Catholic and Presbyterian Churches are also making preparations to establish schools and missions here. It is my policy, as I understand it to be yours, to encourage all religious and missionary societies in their work among the Indians.20 Mission and church growth accelerated after Thomas J. Morgan became Indian commissioner in 1889. By the time his term ended in 1893 there were six Indian schools on the KCA Reservation, and by 1895 there were nine. After the “opening” in 1901, there were three government schools, four mission schools, and nineteen churches on the former reservation. RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 39

The following Christian organizations operated in Kiowa country before Oklahoma statehood. Methodist Missions and Schools Reverend Methvin toured the Indian Territory in 1886 to consider a mission, and after encountering Kiowas he decided to establish a church near the Kiowa Agency. In the fall of 1887 Methvin arrived in Anadarko to begin his ministry, conducting church services in town and preaching in the Kiowa encampments, and for the next two years he traversed the different parts of the reservation seeking converts (Corwin 1968, 44–46; Babcock 1941, 116). During this period Methvin (n.d.a, 72) and his family lived next to Collier & Sneed’s Trading Store in a “small shack that had served as kitchen for the store.” Methvin could not speak Kiowa and found it difficult to communicate using rudimentary sign language. He desperately needed an interpreter, especially someone sympathetic to his efforts to proselytize the Kiowas, who resisted conversion. Eventually Methvin met Virginia Stumbling Bear, the Carlisle-educated daughter of the old chief, who was initially reticent to translate but finally acquiesced. She interpreted for Methvin during a church service held in a tipi (Vernon 1980–81, 397). After becoming Methvin’s interpreter, Stumbling Bear helped convert several prominent Mount Scott Kiowas to Methodism: Luther Sahmaunt, who eventually married her, his old schoolmate; Jimmy Quoetone, father of Guy Quoetone, future Methodist minister; Hunting Horse and his two sons, Albert and Cecil, future Methodist ministers; and several of the Indian scouts stationed at Fort Sill. Additional Mount Scott converts included Sankadota (Medicine Feather); Howard Sankadota, a Peyotist; Apekaum (Charcoal); and Sia-tigh, or Little George (Vernon 1980–81, 392, 402– 9; Vernon 1984; Corwin 1958a, 44– 45, 195– 96; Babcock 1941, 116; Stewart 1962– 63, 334). Although he frequented the distant reaches of the reservation, Methvin centered his work in Anadarko, visiting Indians when they came in for their bimonthly and sometimes weekly ration issues. Methvin made many acquaintances during his first two years in Anadarko since the Indians camped near the agency for several days to a week at a time. One day 40 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

while visiting among the different encampments, Methvin met Andres Martinez, called Andele by the Kiowas, standing by the old commissary near the Washita River. Martinez, a Mexican captive who spoke fluent Kiowa and also knew some English and Spanish, readily accepted Methvin’s invitation to attend services in the Methodist church, as related by Methvin (1899, 179–80): The next day, Sunday, the little church was well filled with blanket Indians of the numerous tribes that inhabit both sides of the Washita, and a few Mexicans, among whom was Andele. All were attentive listeners, but Andele seemed profoundly interested. He was a constant attendant from that time on. On Sabbath morning, at the 11 o’clock service, a call was made for all those who felt that they were sinners, and wanted right then to give themselves to the Lord, and be saved, to come to the altar. Without manifesting any great emotion, he professed saving faith in Christ, and on the next Sabbath asked for church membership. From that time on, Martinez became Methvin’s principal translator, despite initial misgivings based on his profound respect for the religious beliefs inherent in the sacrosanct Taime and Ten Medicines bundles (Methvin 1899, 180). Once, while sitting with Methvin on a boulder at the base of Mount Scott, Martinez pointed west toward the Wichita Mountains and said, “Yonder in that depression in the mountains is where I crucified myself.” Martinez proceeded to inform Methvin that the Kiowas were “sun-worshippers” and that he had offered strips of his flesh to Sun on numerous occasions. Disrobing, Martinez revealed the scars that covered many parts of his body. On one particular occasion, while fasting and cutting flesh sacrifices, Martinez dreamed that he would become a great medicine man, even though he never became a shaman or warrior (Methvin 1927, 175–76). Martinez’s analogy between crucifixion and Kiowa skin offerings illustrates how Kiowa conceptions were rendered into Christianity. Methvin recorded an incident that occurred one evening while he was preaching at Medicine Creek near Mount Scott. The assembled Kiowas were angry with Methvin for proselytizing and exhibited a “threatenRESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 41

ing attitude” that prompted a response from Martinez: “But soon with the courage and inspiration born of the Spirit, he took the leadership in his own hands, and poured out upon them an exhortation of such pathos and power that the whole wild element came pressing to the front, and falling in the attitude of prayer and supplication, cried to God for mercy . . . heard throughout the camp. Many turned from the old way and started on the new, and all opposition for the time died” (cited in Vernon 1980–81, 408). Another interpreter used by Methvin was Laura Pedrick, Ä′piatañ’s sister, who had attended Carlisle Industrial School, where she met and married another Kiowa, Etälyidónmo (He-Hunts-for-Boys), or Etalye Dunmoe, one of the Fort Marion prisoners (see Mooney 1898, 215). Both were trained for the ministry by Presbyterians, and they lived in a house two miles east of Anadarko. They teamed up with Methvin (n.d.a, 58) to preach in the Indian camps: “We held group meetings in tepees in winter, and larger crowds under summer arbors and out under the trees on the river bottom in the summer.” Having been informed about the Ten Medicines and Taime by Martinez, Methvin sometimes observed individuals amalgamating Christian beliefs into former Kiowa practices, resulting in some unique syncretisms. For instance, he described an incident when a Kiowa dedicated himself to the Christian God in the fashion of former Sun Dance pledges: An Indian arose one day in a camp-meeting being held by the Methodist missionaries and began wailing. After a little while he stopped suddenly and began to talk. “I vowed,” said he, “that I would come here and cry before your God, for I believe he is strong and can help me, and now I want to keep my promise and fulfill my vow; for I have had much sickness and the Indian medicine (or idol) has failed me. I want to turn to the white man’s God, for he is strong.” And then he continued wailing, thinking that was the correct way to get the ear of the white man’s God. He was endeavoring to carry out the ways of superstition in the worship of the true God. He wanted to pay his vow. He was afraid not to do it. He was taught the way of God more perfectly, and soon after professed his faith in Jesus and joined the church. (Methvin 1899, 67– 68) 42 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

As stated by the unnamed man, his main reason for pledging his faith to Christianity was to ward off sickness from his family. Based on prereservation Kiowa beliefs, vows were taken seriously, so fulfilling the pledge by praying to the god of the Methodists was his way of making a commitment to the new religion. Methvin’s reaction to the man’s vow and tearful prayers reflects that missionaries normally perceive outward practices as signs of inner beliefs and that he overlooked that Native “religious practices often serve as resources for negotiating culture change in the realm of historical time, especially in colonizing circumstances” (McNally 2000, 848, 854). Moreover missionaries like Methvin do not tolerate local syncretisms in religious practices (DeBernardi 1999, 90). Even though Methvin did not comprehend Kiowa customs, he nevertheless managed to convert many prominent Kiowas to Christianity through his “camp work.” Assisted by other missionaries and field matrons, Methvin cared for the sick and instructed others in chores associated with living in houses (Vernon 1980–81, 404–5). In 1987 Gina Ware Pauahty, Trina Stumblingbear, and Richard G. Stumblingbear, members of the J. J. Methvin Memorial Methodist Church in Anadarko, described Methvin as a kind, sincere man who was dedicated to his mission work.21 Notable converts in the late nineteenth century included Ä′piatañ and Little Bluff II, who developed a strong friendship with Methvin. Prior to his death Little Bluff requested his tipi be moved outside the parsonage to be close to the Methodist missionary (Methvin n.d.a, 61– 62; Methvin 1931, 335; Corwin 1968, 47; Vernon 1980–81, 398). In 1889 Methvin petitioned Agent Charles Adams to expand Methodist mission work on the KCA Reservation through the acquisition of three separate parcels of land for two churches and a school: Methvin requested six acres in Anadarko between the Masonic Temple and the C. A. Cleveland business for a chapel and parsonage; 160 acres one mile southwest of the agency were desired for an industrial school; and ten acres near the Little Washita River in the vicinity of Mount Scott were needed for a future mission.22 Methvin acquired the first two tracts in 1889, and the Board of Missions of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South built him a parsonage with a church annex on a two-acre town lot, then provided a $2,500 grant to build a boarding school in Anadarko to serve the educational needs of the Kiowas and other tribes (Corwin 1968, 46).23 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 43

Although the Presbyterians, Reformed Presbyterians, and Baptists were also conducting mission work on the KCA Reservation in 1889, Methvin was the first missionary to obtain permission to build a school near the agency.24 Construction of the new school began in the spring of 1890, and it was built on the northwest quarter of Section 22, Tp. 7 N., R. 10 W, about a mile southwest of the agency, just south of present-day Central Boulevard in the Highlands Addition of Anadarko (Vernon 1980–81, 401; Corwin 1968, 46).25 Lumber for the school was shipped from the railhead at Pauls Valley, seventy-five miles east of Anadarko (Methvin n.d.a, 88). Prior to the opening of the school, Methvin petitioned the Indian commissioner for a supply contract to run the school but was turned down because the government no longer made contracts with mission schools and Congress was in the process of phasing out current contracts. However, since the Indians were still drawing rations at the agency according to provisions of the Medicine Lodge Treaty, Methvin finally arranged for the allocated provisions for each child to be distributed through the school (Methvin n.d.a, 88–89; Corwin 1958a, 181–82; Corwin 1968, 46). According to the arrangement, the school was required to provide clothing and shelter for the students, although clothes donated by various Methodist churches throughout the South were often worn beyond use (Vernon 1980–81, 402). Methvin’s boarding school opened in the spring of 1890 with fifteen pupils, and by June there were thirty-four Kiowa, Caddo, and Delaware students, plus eleven agency children. In 1891 the school building was doubled in size in order to accommodate one hundred students, and a large barn was built to store produce raised on the school farm.26 In 1892, in addition to livestock, sixty acres were under cultivation, and by 1893 thirty-three of the fifty-one students at the school were Kiowas (Vernon 1980–81, 402, 404). According to Methvin (n.d.a, 88–89), attendance eventually grew to seventy-five pupils. In 1890 the school was taken over by the Women’s Foreign Missionary Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, and renamed Methvin Institute to honor its founder. Methvin Institute operated until 1908, when Methvin lost the government contract, providing Kiowa, Caddo, and Delaware children with a Christian and industrial education. Typical of other boarding schools at the time, mornings were spent in classroom 44 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

activities and afternoons were devoted to “industrial training,” which entailed sewing, cleaning, and cooking classes for the girls, and agriculture for the boys. Prayer services occurred daily in the morning and evening (Vernon 1980–81, 402–4; Corwin 1958a, 181; Corwin 1968, 46). Charley Apekaum attended Methvin Institute sometime in the late 1890s and recalled some of the staff members, particularly Martinez, a trained blacksmith who taught industrial arts and served as school disciplinarian. Apekaum and his classmates were amazed by the Mexican who spoke fluent Kiowa and christened Apekaum with the name “Charley” on his first day of school (LaBarre 1957, 20). Other Kiowa employees at the school included interpreters May Sankadota and Virginia Stumbling Bear and John and Maggie Dunlop. Numerous Methodists from the mission board also worked at Methvin Institute, including Ida May Swanson, who married Methvin after his first wife died (Vernon 1980–81, 402). Although he was a very young student, Apekaum had fond memories of attending Methvin Institute and claimed that those who went to the school were “more progressive” than those educated in other local Indian schools. Apekaum also recalled that Methvin Institute students went barefooted because funding was so scarce and that they wore old clothes when students from the other boarding schools had uniforms. Despite the impoverished conditions at the school, Apekaum spoke well of Methvin, “a good old man” liked by all the Indians (LaBarre 1957, 14, 21, 83). Methvin, very short in stature, was called A-mi-a-me (Man with the Ant-Shaped Body) (Vernon 1980–81, 410). Apekaum related to LaBarre an amusing anecdote about Methvin’s lack of patience with troublesome students: The older boys had several fights with the teachers that I know of, both men and women. Pulled hair. Different things. You want a case? Well, we were doing chapel exercizes [sic]; while chapel was going on we sang religious songs. Some of the older Kiowa boys were singing the song all right but they were using the Indian words. The name of the song was “Hallelueia [sic], Thine the Glory,” and these here boys were singing with the Indian words, and of course that made the younger boys and girls laugh, and that made the teacher suspicious. She stopped and said, “which one of you is doing it?” And nobody answered. And RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 45

so she sent for Mr. J. J. Methvin. He was our superintendent. Pretty soon Mr. Methvin came up there to take charge and he said, “sing this over again. I do not want you boys to sing with Indian words.” And they sang it over again with Indian words. Mr. Methvin walked up to the bigger boys in the back row and he had a suspicion that one of the boys there was doing it also. So he asked one of the boys, “Joe, did you do it?” Joe kind of smiled and he slapped him. You could hear the echo go down the stairs and back and that made Joe mad. Joe got red in the face, and Mr. Methvin had whiskers just this long, close to his— midway—and Joe grabbed hold of his whiskers with his left hand, grasped it tight, and shook him and Mr. Methvin was trying to talk all the time, his jaw was shaking and made some kind of noise. And he slapped him back too, to boot. I heard Mr. Methvin, finally I could understand him and he says, “let go!” For a while I thought they was going to scalp him! The boys was [sic] too big to handle, there was too many of them. And so they never fight any more after then. They call it square. But afterwards the boys would put in Indian words when they sing that song. Hell, they’d say: [Halleleuia, Thine the Glory] Howdy-do Sankadote (that’s Jack’s father) [Halleleuia, Amen] Howdy-do, Old Man, [Halleleuia, Thine the Glory] Howdy-do Sankadote, [Revive us again] Gip’oigyae sɔ-k’ul “back there on you” “shit there in a pile.” (LaBarre 1957, 81–82) Apekaum’s story brings to mind some of the stories Clifton Tongkeamah related about attending Riverside Boarding School in Anadarko. He said that Indian students were “crazy” because they always changed the words to songs and rote memory lines, often putting an “Indian beat” to English phrases.27 In 1892, with his school in full operation, Methvin expressed concern that there were no records for the 160-acre allotment in Agent 46 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

George Day’s office.28 He was particularly worried because the school existed on a “temporary and conditional grant” (Methvin n.d.a, 89), and he desperately needed the land to support the school as well as his six children, among them four sons who helped work the farm in order to learn a steady occupation and to supplement his meager salary with the income from the proceeds.29 Methvin never acquired the 160-acre parcel for personal use, though he was allowed to occupy the land as long as the school functioned. Desirous of obtaining allotments for satellite missions, Methvin informed Interior Secretary Hoke Smith of his progress on the KCA Reservation: Since I have been here, have established three mission stations on this reservation, built three parsonages with “church annex,” one church building separate, one large school building of boarding capacity of 100 pupils, have during this year two other preachers in this work, one bible woman as camp matron doing work among the Indian women in their camps, have five other ladies in the school work, with three, sometimes four, “Indian helpers,” and several male employes [sic] in the school. We have an encouraging Indian membership, our work is increasing, and we propose during the year to build two other churches.30 The newcomers to the reservation included Rev. W. A. Brewer, Helen Brewster, and Rev. Andrew E. Butterfield. Brewster came to the Little Washita River, twenty miles southeast of the agency, in 1891 to work as a field matron among the Comanche and Mexican inhabitants of the area. During the fall of 1892 she assisted Reverend Brewer in the Fort Sill area, but Brewer’s wife was not in good health and could not tolerate tent living, so they moved to Anadarko (Vernon 1980–81, 406–7). Also in the fall of 1892 the North Texas Conference sent Butterfield to the Fort Sill–Anadarko area, where he assisted Methvin for the next two years, preached in the Comanche camp of Big Looking Glass, twenty miles south of the agency, and established a mission on the Little Washita (Moore 1945, 35; Corwin 1968, 51). In 1894 Butterfield obtained permission to use a sawmill fourteen miles south of Fort Sill to cut lumber for a church two and a half miles north of the fort beneath Mount Scott RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 47

(Moore 1945, 42–45). Brewster helped found Mount Scott Kiowa Methodist Church, which was originally named Emma Chapel to honor Methvin’s first wife, who helped raise the money to build it. The church has often been referred to as the “Mother Church of Kiowa Methodism” (Vernon 1980–81, 407; Twohatchet 1996, 10). By 1894– 95 Butterfield was preaching at two churches composing the Fort Sill and Mount Scott circuit. The Fort Sill facility, a two-room parsonage, was built near the Old Red Store in 1895 (Corwin 1958a, 196–97). Like his contemporaries, Butterfield found that the Indian communities in the vicinity of Fort Sill were divided between Christians and “pagans”—those who adhered to tribal religions, consulted shamans, and engaged in the sacramental use of Peyote. For instance, in 1892 Butterfield learned from Big Looking Glass and other Peyotists that his anti-Peyote sermons were responsible for the ill-fated “First Church,” initially damaged by strong winds, then struck by lightning the next week, and finished off by a twister several days later. Over time, however, Butterfield gained numerous converts, particularly because of Andres Martinez. At first Butterfield did not understand Kiowa- Comanche cultural differences, so he built the Mount Scott church “within a six mile wide strip which lay between the Comanches and Kiowas, and known as No Man’s Land,” hoping that both tribes would utilize the new facility. To his dismay, when he brought some Comanche friends to the new church, they informed him that it was a Kiowa church, so eventually another mission had to be established in Comanche territory (Moore 1945, 42– 45, 49, 56, 59– 61). By 1897 there were five Methodist missions on allotted lands on the KCA Reservation: (1) the two-acre tract in Anadarko; (2) Methvin Institute, on 160 acres; (3) Mount Scott Church, on forty acres; (4) the Little Washita mission, on forty acres; and (5) the small parsonage and chapel at Fort Sill.31 The first three missions served the Kiowas, and the latter two were in Comanche territory (Corwin 1958a, 197). Methvin also petitioned Acting Indian Commissioner A. C. Tanner in 1897 for a 160-acre allotment near Cottonwood Grove, on which he wanted to build a church and day school. Methvin had conducted annual and semiannual camp meetings at this location, and he wished to “establish . . . a permanent and substantial encampment for such a purpose.” Cottonwood Grove consisted 48 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

of recently built Indian homes; some were being leased, so the church and school would serve the Indians and their renters.32 Agent Frank Baldwin, claiming that Cottonwood Grove lands were some of the richest on the reservation, challenged Methvin’s request for a quarter section, adding that only three or four Indians had approved a Methodist mission for this location anyway. Nevertheless Baldwin suggested that ten acres would be sufficient for church purposes.33 Methvin then withdrew his request for the Cottonwood Grove allotment, stating that he would gladly accept “10 acres at some central and convenient point to the community,” although he eventually received a seventy-six-acre allotment at Cottonwood Grove, where a church building was erected.34 The Cottonwood Grove Methodist Church was probably located near present-day Verden, nine miles east of Anadarko.35 According to archival records, the Act of June 1, 1906, provided that the following mission societies, under the umbrella of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, received patents in fee: the Board of Home Missions for the Cottonwood Grove and Mount Scott churches, the Women’s Foreign Mission Society for Methvin Institute, and the Women’s Mission Society for the Little Washita Church.36 Allotments for the small plots in Anadarko and Fort Sill were not mentioned, though both tracts were still owned by the Methodists.37 Presbyterian Missions and Schools The Presbyterian Church was represented by two factions: the Board of Home Missions of the Presbyterian Church in the Unites States of America and the Central Board of Missions of the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America. The Presbyterians and Reformed Presbyterians established two boarding schools and missions on the KCA Reservation. Sanko told LaBarre that Kiowas noticed distinctions in ritual practices among the various Protestant denominations. For instance, Methodists and Presbyterians were called ɔdltando, “sprinklers,” but Baptists were o·nbop, “immerse,” due to their full-immersion baptisms.38 Presbyterian Church in the United States of America Supported by the Board of Home Missions, based in New York City, Rev. Silas V. Fait and his wife, Anna, came to Anadarko in 1888. Shortly after RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 49

their arrival they learned that the benefactress who funded the establishment of a Comanche school near Fort Sill had decided at the last minute to support Alaska Indians instead. Stranded in Anadarko, the missionary couple made the best of their situation by occupying a two-room building that had been vacated three years earlier by the Episcopalian minister. Anna inaugurated a school for the white children of the agency in the church building, while her husband went among the Kiowa camps with Joshua Given, his Carlisle-educated interpreter.39 Reverend Given, also sponsored by the Board of Home Missions, was appointed to work among his Kiowa people. In the fall of 1889 the Board petitioned Indian Commissioner Thomas J. Morgan to establish a day school on 160 acres east of Anadarko. Plans included a school building and a parsonage for Given, to be constructed as soon as possible, despite the possibility that the selected allotment would probably be ceded through application of the Dawes Act and the lands occupied by Anglos in the near future.40 Interior Secretary John Noble issued the temporary land grant in early January 1890, and later that spring Reverend Fait and his family moved to the recently surveyed allotment four miles east of Anadarko. Noble helped defray construction expenses by authorizing the cutting of reservation timber and sawing it into planks at the agency sawmill.41 The parsonage and the chapel were the first buildings to open that spring. Before their completion it was also decided to build a boarding school; construction of a dormitory and school building continued through the summer and fall of 1892. By 1893 the new boarding school, Mary Gregory Memorial School, also called Mautame (Corwin 1968, 52), was in operation; it closed in 1912 (Hume 1951, 115). In 1900 and 1901 there were fifty and twenty-two students, respectively, and the school was filled to capacity.42 In the spring of 1896, when the Mary Gregory Memorial School was operating at full capacity, Reverend Fait petitioned Agent Frank D. Baldwin to build a church and parsonage closer to the agency.43 Shortly afterward the Interior Department permitted him to build a church on a one-acre tract in Anadarko, and by September construction was under way.44 In 1902 the chapel was moved to downtown Anadarko, where it was used by the new citizenry until another one was built in 1924.45 Similar to the other mission schools still functioning in 1906, on the eve of 50 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

statehood, the Board of Home Missions received a patent in fee simple for Fait’s school.46 Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America In December 1887 a committee within the Central Board of Missions petitioned Indian Commissioner John D. C. Atkins for a tract of land near the Kiowa Agency on which they would build an “industrial Indian mission school” for the Kiowa and Wichita children. Seeking to use native stone and timber for the project, the Central Board was prepared to immediately begin construction and to staff the new facility with a farmer, carpenter, blacksmith, teacher, minister, and field matrons.47 Earlier that fall the Central Board had sent John R. Lee of Wahoo, Nebraska, to the KCA Reservation to locate a suitable spot for the mission school, and he selected a site “three miles north west of Fort Sill on Medicine Bluff Creek,” based on the premise that the local Indians eagerly desired a mission and school.48 Special Agent E. E. White, however, reported in 1888 that he had spoken to the chiefs and headmen of the three tribes and that the Comanches closest to the proposed mission opposed it because they wanted a government school at Fort Sill. They feared that the mission school would prevent that from happening. Likewise the Kiowa leaders favored patronizing the Kiowa School near the agency and were noncommittal toward the proposal.49 Nevertheless, through the auspices of the agent, permission to build the mission school from native materials was finally obtained in February 1889, concomitant to the arrival of Rev. W. W. Carithers, who was supported by the Ladies’ Missionary Society of Pittsburgh Presbytery (Corwin 1958a, 297; Corwin 1968, 47– 48).50 Carithers surveyed the mission site, drew a map, then described the location as “situated on and near Chandler Creek and West of and near the cattle trail running on the East side of Mount Scott and direct to Anadarko.”51 According to Corwin (1958a, 208), the site of the mission on Chandler Creek was changed to a location on Cache Creek when it was discovered that the “former choice of location near Fort Sill had already been taken by the Presbyterians”; Carithers then chose to build the mission twenty miles northwest of Fort Sill. Corwin (1968, 47– 48) described where the Cache Creek Mission was located: “He [Carithers] selected a new spot some five miles west of where Apache, Oklahoma is RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 51

Fig. 2. Rev. W. W. Carithers’s map of the proposed site of a Reformed Presbyterian mission school, March 1889. The mission was to be built along Chandler Creek, at least ten miles northwest of Fort Sill, and north of the Wichita Mountains (depicted by short pen strokes in the lower left-hand corner). The location was adjacent to the Mount Scott–Anadarko road and cattle trail. Drawing by Scott Kracht based on a sketch by Reverend Carithers, in a letter sent to Indian Commissioner John H. Oberly, March 15, 1889, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases, National Archives.

now located, on a beautiful, clear stream flowing from the limestone hills to the west. The stream was thought to be Cache Creek, and the Mission was named the ‘Cache Creek Mission.’ However, it was found later to be only a branch of Cache Creek, and it was named ‘Mission Creek.’” The identity of the Presbyterian group taking over the property at Chandler Creek is unknown, and there are no extant records of any Presbyterian activities at this location. Agent W. D. Myers wrote Indian Commissioner John H. Oberly in March 1889, informing him that Carithers had chosen to construct his mission school among the Plains Apaches; he enclosed Carithers’s map, as well as his letter, which did not indicate that there had been a geographic change.52 If such a move had occurred, then the distance from the original location was not very far, as suggested by 52 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

two annual reports from the Kiowa Agency: one disclosed that the Cache Creek Mission was “on Cache creek about 20 miles from the agency,” and the other located it twenty-five miles southwest of the Kiowa Agency.53 These descriptions approximate the site on Carithers’s map, suggesting that if the 160-acre tract had to be chosen again, the distance from the original plot was not great. Agent George D. Day noted that the location selected by Reverend Carithers in March 1889 had been approved by Agent Myers that April.54 The Cache Creek Mission and school were operational by 1890 (Corwin 1968, 48).55 In his 1890 annual report Agent Charles E. Adams stated, “[The] Reformed Presbyterians opened a school this fall among the [Plains] Apaches.”56 A two-and-a-half-story mission building made of locally quarried limestone was finished first, followed by a parsonage, church, and buildings for other personnel.57 Large barns for the farm and other buildings appeared later, and the completed school, which accommodated fifty students, was normally filled. Although situated close to the Plains Apaches, most of the converts at the church and the children in the school were Comanches (Corwin 1958a, 209, 214; Corwin 1968, 48). Both Presbyterian Mission schools served the educational needs of some Indian children, but for the most part Kiowas did not attend services at the Fait Mission in Anadarko, which ministered primarily to non-Indians, nor did they attend the Cache Creek Mission, whose membership after the opening consisted of new settlers and a handful of Plains Apaches and Comanches. After these schools closed down in the second decade of the twentieth century, Presbyterian mission work among the Kiowas ceased (Corwin 1968, 52). Baptist Missions Funded by the American Baptist Home Mission Society (ABHMS), Rev. George W. Hicks (Eastern Cherokee) was the first full-time Baptist minister on the KCA Reservation when he arrived in Anadarko in the spring of 1888. He was accompanied by his wife, Jane, and her sister, Lauretta E. Ballew of the affiliated Women’s American Baptist Home Mission Society (WABHMS) Training School located in Chicago (Burdette 1895, 31–32). Conjointly they established a church among the Wichitas and affiliated tribes, approximately three miles north of the agency. Hicks RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 53

ran the mission, and Ballew taught day school (Corwin 1968, 44– 45), although the school was temporarily closed in 1893, partially because the Wichita and Caddo headmen did not favor its location and because the students were attending the old Wichita School, now called Riverside Indian School (Hume 1951, 115).58 Hicks’s work in Anadarko compelled the WABHMS to send representatives to investigate the possibility of expanding missions westward from the communities of the Five Civilized Tribes in eastern Indian Territory (Burdette 1895, 3– 4; Ellis 2002, 41). In September 1889 Kate Elliott Murrow related a recent visit to Anadarko, where she had participated in a Wichita and Caddo “camp meeting,” which was also attended by some Comanches and Kiowas who clamored for “gospel teachers and schools.” She described the Kiowas as “wilder than any other tribes in the territory,” which was later confirmed by Mary G. Burdette (1895, 3– 4), who wrote that the “Kiowas have been more intractable than any other tribe of the Southwest except the Apaches.” Addressing the annual gathering of the WABHMS in May 1890, Murrow mentioned the opening of the Lone Wolf Mission in 1889 by W. D. Lancaster, a government-contracted carpenter building Indian homes who had recently started working as a lay preacher (Burdette 1895, 4; Corwin 1958a, 178; Ellis 2002, 42). Assisted by his wife, Lancaster conducted “a school in a tent, living in the midst of the Kiowas, teaching them and leading them toward Christianity and civilization. The Kiowas have settled about the school, and the teachers have gained their respect and love” (Burdette 1895, 4). Komalty, second chief to Lone Wolf II, also welcomed the Lancasters into the encampment some sixty miles west of the agency, where by 1891 Lancaster had constructed a small parsonage and school on Elk Creek and began teaching Kiowa students, including the son of Lone Wolf II (Corwin 1958a, 178–79; Corwin 1968, 49).59 In April 1891 Lone Wolf II summoned Kate Murrow and her husband, Rev. J. S. Murrow—editor of the Indian Missionary, a publication of the ABHMS—to the Lone Wolf Mission, where they met the Lancasters and were impressed by their work (Corwin 1958a, 178). After returning to his home in Atoka, Indian Territory, Murrow wrote Commissioner Morgan, stating that Lone Wolf II had requested the enlargement of the school buildings. A supportive letter written by Rev. H. L. Moorehouse affirmed 54 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

that the ABHMS was willing to finance the construction. Murrow requested 640 acres for the proposed mission and school.60 Agent Adams responded to the request, approving the Lone Wolf Mission School, even though it was seventy-five miles from the agency and served only a minority of the Kiowa population, averaging only ten students in 1891 and 1892. Although he felt the school should relocate thirty to forty miles closer to Anadarko, Adams nonetheless set aside 160 acres of farm land for the Elk Creek School, where rations would be distributed to the students.61 The Lone Wolf Mission School was short-lived, however, because in July 1891 a site thirty miles west of Anadarko was selected for the construction of Rainy Mountain School, a new federal boarding school.62 Since the Lancasters operated independently of any mission society, their funds ran out, compelling them to leave Lone Wolf Mission. Afterward they homesteaded among the Cheyennes and Arapahos (Corwin 1958a, 178; Corwin 1968, 49). Noting the dearth of missionaries among the distant Kiowa camps, Kate Murrow wrote in December 1891, “The Blanket Indians of Oklahoma are begging for help. They want Christian women to go into their homes and teach the women all manner of things. They wish them taught the ways of white women” (cited in Burdette 1895, 4). Answering the call, Maryetta J. Reeside volunteered to travel to Kiowa country after gaining approval from the Executive Board of the WABHMS. Anticipating her arrival, the Murrows, Reverend Hicks, and Ballew visited Big Tree’s camp near Rainy Mountain in April 1892 and established temporary residence in an unoccupied Indian home. Big Tree and his family were away that Saturday, so the missionaries could not conduct a camp meeting due to the absence of interpreters, but they managed to communicate with the Kiowas the next day through the assistance of an Indian from a nearby soldier camp. Hence Murrow informed the expectant crowd that Reeside and Ballew planned to establish a mission near Rainy Mountain (Burdette 1895, 5– 6, 8). Reeside finally arrived in Anadarko in September 1892, where she found the Hickses and another couple, Rev. C. A. Perkins and his wife, at the Wichita-Caddo school three miles north of the agency. Shortly afterward the Murrows, the Perkinses, Mrs. M. C. Reynolds—corresponding secretary of the WABHMS—Ballew, and Reeside met Big Tree and Lone Wolf II about twenty-five miles west of the agency and spread a blanket RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 55

on the ground for lunch and to discuss Ballew and Reeside’s forthcoming work in the Kiowa camps. Reverend Murrow informed the leaders that the women did not seek land or personal gain, but instead needed food, shelter, and protection. Lone Wolf replied that even though most white people were bad, he trusted the Christians (Burdette 1895, 14–15; Nahwooksy 1993, 7; Ellis 2002, 42). Traveling farther west to Lone Wolf ’s camp the next day, the missionaries were greeted by a large circle of seated women, children, and men, including the important chiefs Lone Wolf II, Big Tree, Stumbling Bear, and Poor Buffalo: “All were arrayed in their best moccasins, bright blankets, beads and ornaments, with painted faces and hair wrapped and twisted in a fantastic manner. Some of the young women had their wrists covered with metal bands and many rings in their ears. The little children were truly picturesque with their shell and elk tooth ornamented jackets” (Reeside, cited in Burdette 1895, 14– 15). After listening to the missionaries, the Kiowa chiefs voiced their support for Reeside and Ballew to teach them about Jesus and to bring churches and schools (Burdette 1895, 14–15). Sometime during the meeting, Lone Wolf II appealed to the American Baptist Church representatives for new missionaries among his people: When the Great Spirit created the world He divided it into two great seasons—the warm and the cold. The warm season brings life and light; the grass springs up, the birds sing, there is growth and development to fruit, and joy, and gladness. The cold season brings death and desolation; the grass dies; the trees are bare, the fruits are gone, the animals become weak and poor, the very water turns hard; there is no joy, no growth, no gladness. You Christian white people are like the summer. You have light and warmth and life. You have flowers and fruit, and growth and knowledge. We poor, wild Indians are like the winter. We have no growth, no knowledge, no joy, no gladness. Will you not share your summer with us? Will you not help us with the light and life, that we may have joy and knowledge and eternal life hereafter? (cited in Corwin 1958a, 178) In November 1892 Reeside and Ballew began working in the camps of Lone Wolf II and Komalty, who were without a missionary since the 56 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

departure of the Lancasters. Through the winter and spring the two women sojourned to various family encampments scattered about the reservation, then returned for ration distributions and grass payments in Anadarko, where they pitched a large tent for camp meetings. Using large, colored pictures, the missionaries outlined simple stories about Jesus and taught the women how to make patchwork quilts. Sometime during a fall tent meeting, Big Tree’s wife, Omebo, stepped forward “to accept Christ,” followed by her brother, Gotebo, and five other Kiowa converts, including his wife, Ka-lo-mah, Peah-mah (Mrs. Queton), Peattaw (Mrs. Sainko), her daughter Kon-tah-mah (Mrs. Goomda), and Tahkoi-mah (Mrs. Chal-an-aun), a daughter of Sitting Bear. All seven of the new proselytes were baptized by Reverend Hicks on January 22, 1893, becoming charter members of the soon-to-be-built church near Rainy Mountain Creek. Through the winter Reeside and Ballew lived in the first house built at Rainy Mountain by Satoe (Burdette 1895, 16–22; Nahwooksy 1993, 7–8). In April 1893 an eighty-acre tract was chosen near Rainy Mountain for a new mission; the chapel, funded by Sunday school donations and the WABHMS, was dedicated in January 1894 as Immanuel Mission and as the Immanuel Baptist Church in November. Total costs for the chapel were $775 (Burdette 1895, 16–22, 25, 42; Nahwooksy 1993, 7–8).63 Also in 1893 Reverend Hicks and his wife left the Wichita Mission north of Anadarko and established the Elk Creek Mission four miles south of the future city of Hobart (Corwin 1968, 49–50). Once both churches were operating, pastors were needed, so Hicks traveled the twenty miles between the two churches on alternate Sundays. Within a year Immanuel Baptist Church had forty members, including Gotebo, former shaman and Peyotist Chaan-one, Big Tree, and Sane-co (Sanko), who allowed Ballew to cut his hair, which she hung on her wall as a trophy. Notably Gotebo, a former warrior, was inspired to create six Kiowa hymns (Burdette 1895, 42–47). Joining Reeside and Ballew in 1894 as an interpreter was Odle-tay-die, or Julie Given, the youngest daughter of Sitting Bear, who, like her illfated brother Joshua, a victim of Kiowa sorcery in 1892 (see chapter 5), was educated at Carlisle. Samuel Ahtone, another Carlisle graduate, also served as an interpreter. Through Given’s teachings, Reeside became fluent in Kiowa, earning her the name Aim-day-co (Turn the Other Way), as RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 57

Fig. 3. Saddle Mountain, ca. 2007. Photograph by the author.

explained by the chiefs who named her: “We were following the wrong road. She came a long journey from home to tell us to turn the other way and follow the Jesus road.” Ballew received the name Mau-tame-mah (Teacher). In 1896 Rev. H. H. Clouse and his wife took over Immanuel Baptist Church and stayed until 1920 (Nahwooksy 1993, 8). Perhaps the best remembered Baptist missionary among the Kiowas was Isabel Crawford, another WABHMS trainee, who came to the Elk Creek Mission in 1893. Three years later Crawford decided that a missionary was needed in the remote Saddle Mountain Kiowa community nestled in the northern foothills of the Wichita Mountains forty miles southeast of Elk Creek Mission, so in April 1896 she accompanied Paul Zotom and his family to Saddle Mountain to establish a mission (Corwin 1958a, 178; Corwin 1958b, 119; Corwin 1968, 49–50). Upon her arrival Crawford (1915, 16) set up camp with some Kiowa families along Saddle Mountain Creek, one of the “many soft-water springs that rise in the foot-hills of the Wichita Mountains.” Having suffered a loss of hearing in her childhood, Crawford wore a listening tube attached to a necklace chain (Corwin 1958a, 114), prompting the Kiowas to call her T’ɔkama (No Ears, or [Woman who is] hard of 58 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

hearing), according to Fern Ahdokobo Miller.64 Overcoming her deafness and inability to immediately procure an interpreter, the resolute Crawford was fluent in American Sign Language and possessed a copy of W. P. Clark’s The Indian Sign Language (Sanders 1987, 33), so she quickly learned how to communicate with the Kiowas using Plains sign language (Crawford 1915).65 On April 12, 1896, a dark and rainy Easter Sunday, Crawford gave the first “Jesus talk” to some Kiowas packed into a small two-room house. Impressed that the “Jesus woman” was not intimidated being alone with Indians in a remote reservation district—especially where the local Ghost Dance constituency opposed her presence—several of the men asked Crawford if she feared being scalped. Crawford was not afraid and informed them of her plans to establish a church at Saddle Mountain because the closest Baptist church was seventeen miles northwest at Rainy Mountain. (In 1895 Rev. Howard H. Clouse had opened a chapel near the newly opened Rainy Mountain Boarding School, where he was employed.)66 Shortly afterward several individuals told Crawford that their horses were too old to trek the long round trip to Rainy Mountain for church services. Moreover, they said, they appreciated her presence. In time the Saddle Mountain Kiowas developed personal relations with Crawford, even though not all of them promptly converted to Christianity (Crawford 1915, 16–19; Corwin 1958a, 119; Corwin 1958b, 123; Corwin 1968, 50). Two weeks after Easter, on April 12, Crawford conducted Christian services under a makeshift tent. While she was calling for volunteers to dedicate themselves to the Jesus road, Lucius Aitson (Killed Him on the Sly), his wife, Mabel, and two sons rose from their seats, and he said, “I am sorry that there are no Christians over here. Sometimes we all sit around to eat but there is nobody to thank Jesus, so we wait a while and think. Some Indians say when they are baptized that they bury all their bad roads and then they pick them up again and go off with them. I don’t want to be that kind. I want to be a white-man Christian” (Crawford 1915, 24). From that time on, Aitson, the son of Mo-keen, translated for Crawford, though like other bilingual Kiowas—perhaps remembering Joshua Given’s fate—he was initially reticent to serve in this capacity. Born in 1864, Aitson was nine years old when Friend Battey operated the first school in RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 59

Kicking Bird’s camp. Recalling earlier Kiowa superstitions about schools, Aitson told Crawford that several mothers, including his, removed their boys from class fearing they would die like the Caddo children, presumably from looking at picture books. Ironically Aitson was one of the first Kiowa youths to attend Carlisle Industrial School over five years later, where he met Mabel, Hunting Horse’s sister, whom he married after their return home, where he worked as an agency farmer before becoming a Troop L Indian scout at Fort Sill (Crawford 1915, 24–25, 33–41). On May 18, 1896, Crawford moved from her tent into the two-room Aitson homestead, where she stayed through the bitter cold winter of 1896– 97, during which time she inaugurated a church building fund drive, to which the Aitsons made the first donation. In October 1897 Mary McLean joined Crawford, and they occupied an extension room of Aitson’s home until a small one-room den could be built for them the next year. Rumors of the new church created unrest within the community, especially among the Ghost Dance devotees, who held a meeting near present-day Carnegie and decided to obstruct construction of the house and church. Called before a council of elders, Crawford was informed that building houses in the Saddle Mountain district was prohibited, then the elders conducted a private council to discuss the matter. Two days later permission was granted for the two women to build a small structure on the Aitson property, demonstrating that the converted Kiowas were willing to stand firm against the Ghost Dance faction (Crawford 1915, 48–51, 98–106; Crawford n.d., 5–10). Crawford’s Saddle Mountain congregation slowly grew, and in May 1898 she promoted the formation of a mission society dedicated to sending the gospel to other Indian tribes in the American West, then explained that inaugurating such an organization involved membership in the WABHMS, provided they paid their dues. By this time Crawford had taught her congregation that forming a mission society was a progressive move for a slowly growing church and that until they erected a permanent church structure, they had to travel to Rainy Mountain for weddings and baptisms, unless a Baptist minister performed these rites at Saddle Mountain. With these goals in mind, Crawford instituted the Daw-kee-boom-gee-k’oop (God’s Light upon the Mountain) mission society that concurrently raised money for a new church and to sponsor 60 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

a Baptist missionary to another tribe, eventually the Hopis of Arizona (Crawford 1915, 86–91; Corwin 1958a, 128). Several money-making ventures were initiated. Like some of her missionary colleagues, Crawford learned to appreciate the artistic abilities of Indians and put them to work. Constructing a pottery kiln near her one-room den, then removing her china paints from storage, she taught some of her parishioners how to make pottery; the artists skillfully painted Native motifs on the pottery, which was then sold to the non-Indians bordering the soonto-be-opened reservation. The pots sold quickly, prompting Crawford to comment, “I never saw such talent for art in any painting class I ever had—it is simply remarkable.”67 Money was also raised by selling Indian quilts (Corwin 1958a, 114–15). Until ample money was raised to build a new church at Saddle Mountain, church services were conducted in various homes, tipis, and other dwellings. In 1897 the Daw-kee-boom-gee-k’oop purchased a sixteen-bythirty-foot circus tent, which was used for the weekly camp meetings held in the summertime (Crawford 1915, 79). On August 24, 1902, a year after the opening of the reservation for homesteading, a camp meeting was attended by forty white citizens, but not until Crawford convinced the Saddle Mountain Kiowas that all white people were not crazy and that they should be invited to Kiowa worship services. During the nighttime meeting, Aitson gave a testimonial that made a lasting impression on the visitors: At the close of the prayer Lucius arose. His face was set and his breathing short. After a few nervous twitches about the mouth and arms he said: “You all know we are Indians. We lived in the darkness for many years but our Great Father was kind to us and sent us the light. Tonight when you were coming you were in the darkness till you saw the lantern over here and then you turned and followed until you got under this arbor. We were the same way. We saw just a little light at first but we hunted and now I am glad to say we are in the light. We are weak yet. The devil beats us many times but we try all we can to follow Jesus. I am not ashamed to stand before your faces to tell you that I am saved, because I know it. I know I am a Christian for God’s Holy Spirit has come into my heart and He makes me know that I am RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 61

saved. You white people know everything. You can read the Bible for yourselves but some of you are in the darkness yet. “The Great Father sent the only son He ever had to die for you. Why don’t you love Him and give Him your hearts? Jesus came to this world to seek poor sinners. He did not come for only Indians or only black men or white people. He did not come to look for skins. He came to look for your hearts and mine and everybody’s. We will pray for you that the Holy Spirit may show you the way.” (Crawford 1915, 187–88) The next day one of the new settlers visited Crawford and informed her, “When Lucius was talking last night Joe B.’s eyes were busted in his head.” Later Joe B. stopped by and told Crawford that until he heard Aitson speak, he had imagined all Indians were ignorant. Aitson convinced him, however, that Indians were very philosophical and that it was the whites who were largely uninformed (Crawford 1915, 189). A speech by Kokom indicates that the recently converted Kiowas were willing to seek out Christian counterparts among the new settlers: “I am a Christian Indian but I don’t know much. When the country opened for settlement a lot of white people came in here. Some of you are Christians and some are very bad people. We don’t know yet which are the good and which are the bad but we hope to know soon and then the Christian Indians and Christian white people must stand together and try very hard to find the poor sinners and bring them to Jesus to be saved” (Crawford 1915, 188). Crawford was quite successful in her mission work with the Saddle Mountain Kiowas, as evidenced by these testimonials, although it should be noted that missionaries often wrote strategically to promote their own work (Raymond A. Bucko, personal communication). Of all the missionaries working among the Kiowas, Crawford undoubtedly was the most prolific chronicler concerning the daily lives of her converts: her two books (Crawford 1915, n.d.) have been reissued (Crawford 1951, 1998), her personal diary was the basis of several articles by Corwin (1958a, 1958b), and a historical novel (Sanders 1987) features her. Shortly after passage of the congressional act of June 6, 1900, proclaiming the opening of the KCA Reservation for homesteading, Crawford petitioned Indian Commissioner William A. Jones for a 160-acre allotment for the future Saddle 62 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

Mountain Baptist Church. Concerned that government policy restricted each mission society to only 160 total acres, Crawford felt that the forty acres offered her church was inadequate, especially since a large farm was needed to support the mission.68 Saddle Mountain Baptist Church eventually received eighty acres for a parsonage, church, and cemetery.69 In the fall of 1902 the Daw-kee-boom-gee-k’oop was close to their building fund goal of $1,000 after a $250 donation from Agent Randlett and the president and board of directors of the Rock Island Railway Company. Crawford then asked her steadily growing congregation whether they wanted the chapel built of local stone or lumber, and after much discussion lumber was selected. Following some instructions on lumber bidding, the mission society received the lowest bid from a lumber company in the small town of Gotebo, located west of Mountain View. Hauling the lumber themselves involved seventy-nine wagonloads for the church and parsonage, designed and built by a local carpenter. Finally, on November 9, 1902, the cornerstone of the new chapel was laid (Crawford 1915, 182–96). On Easter Sunday, April 12, 1903, exactly seven years since the first service was conducted at Saddle Mountain, a gospel service was held in the nearly completed chapel. Sixty-four charter members belonged to the Saddle Mountain Baptist Church when it opened, including Lucius Aitson and his family, Odlepaugh (Buffalo Bird), one of White Bear’s sons, Spotted Horse, Kokom, Tonemoh, Papedone or Papedome (Sitting in the Woods), Gahbein, Heenkey, Chaino, Ah-to-mah, and George Hunt. Saddle Mountain Church served the Kiowa community for almost sixty years (Crawford 1915, 211–13, 222; Corwin 1958a, 134; Corwin 1958b, 130), and the cemetery has been the final resting place for many Kiowas. In December 1906, ten years after her arrival, Crawford retired from active service at Saddle Mountain, ostensibly due to poor health induced by physical hardships (Crawford 1915, 239– 40; Corwin 1958a, 137–38) but more likely because the mission board forced her retirement after she argued with Reverend Clouse about allowing Lucius Aitson and other ordained Kiowa deacons to perform communion in the absence of ordained ministers (Ellis 2002, 48). Crawford was not the only casualty of the mission society; Reeside had departed from Rainy Mountain in 1898 due to failing health (Nahwooksy 1993, 8). Their success, however, RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 63

prompted the establishment of other ABHMS missions on the KCA Reservation. During the winter of 1893–94—after several failed attempts—Rev. E. C. Deyo and his wife founded the Deyo Mission east of the Wichita Mountains in Comanche country. In 1930 the original structure was destroyed and rebuilt in stone (Corwin 1968, 52–53). The Mennonites, closely affiliated with the American Baptist Church, sent Rev. Henry Kohfeld to Fort Sill in 1894 to establish a mission among the Comanches. Reverend Deyo assisted him after his arrival, as did the Methodist missionary Reverend Butterfield. Although Quanah Parker opposed another church in his territory, Topay, one of his seven wives, convinced him to permit construction of the mission, which was built near a post oak tree, hence the name Post Oak Mission.70 Expansion of the Fort Sill Military Reservation in 1957 resulted in the removal of the church and cemetery to Indiahoma, thirteen miles west of Lawton (Corwin 1968, 55–57). Reformed Church in America Having described the major Protestant missions operating in Kiowa country prior to Oklahoma statehood in 1907, the mission established by the Women’s Executive Committee of the Reformed Church in America merits attention. In 1895 Rev. Frank H. Wright (Choctaw) arrived at Fort Sill and began mission work among the Comanches, but extended the gospel to Geronimo’s Chiricahua Apache band, prisoners of war at the fort. After he convinced the Comanches and Chiricahuas—or Fort Sill Apaches—of his sincerity, the Reformed Church Mission was built on the future town site of Lawton. In 1900 a school for the Fort Sill Apaches was built a mile northwest of Medicine Bluff, and in 1918 the buildings were removed from the Fort Sill Military Reservation (Corwin 1968, 54). St. Patrick’s Catholic Mission and School In his September 1890 annual report, Agent Adams wrote, “A priest of the Catholic church holds occasional services, principally for the benefit of the Mexicans.”71 The nameless priest was an emissary sent to investigate a mission site in Anadarko on behalf of the Bureau of Catholic Indian Missions, which had expressed interest in establishing a mission on the reservation as early as 1888.72 In the fall of 1891 the Benedictine 64 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

Fathers from the Sacred Heart Abbey near Atoka, Indian Territory, sent Father Isidore Ricklin to Anadarko to found a mission (de Hasque n.d., 6–7; Lehman 1968, 35), and shortly after arriving, he petitioned Indian Commissioner Morgan for a 160-acre tract near the agency for a mission school.73 During the winter of 1891–92 Ricklin lived with a Protestant family at the agency and visited the various Indian camps, administering to their needs during illness and death. Like Crawford, Ricklin attempted rudimentary forms of sign language, a practice that gained him the trust and friendship of the KCA Indians in a remarkably short period of time. In February 1892 Ricklin was adopted into the Comanche tribe and given formal permission to build a mission. Shortly afterward he selected a location approximately one and a half miles southwest of the agency in Anadarko (de Hasque n.d., 8–9; Lehman 1968, 35). Mother Catherine Drexel of Philadelphia donated $600 to build a “modest residence” where Father Ricklin could live and hold Mass, and on May 14, 1892, Archbishop Patrick Ryan, also from Philadelphia, and a director of the Bureau of Catholic Indian Missions, fully endorsed the mission, which was named St. Patrick’s in his honor. Mother Drexel donated $2,500 to the school building fund, and the archbishop appointed the Sisters of St. Francis to run the mission. Arriving in Anadarko the following October, the sisters officially opened St. Patrick’s Mission and School on November 25, with thirty-five students. Similar to other mission schools on the reservation, government rations were distributed to the children at the school (de Hasque n.d., 8–10; Lehman 1968, 35). A temporary chapel was opened in December, and on February 12, 1893, the largest Mass to date was attended by Bishop Meerschaert, who was visiting the new school and mission as the “newly erected Vicariate” for the second time. Following the services and a large meal sponsored by the sisters, the bishop, using an interpreter, taught the assembled KCA Indians about the sacrament of baptism, then the old chiefs offered their prayers: Old Chief Lone Wolf [II], standing before the statue of the Sacred Heart, thanked the Great Spirit for sending many great spiritual men among them to teach them to live rightly and to love Jesus. WalkingBird made his invocations in Comanche and implored the Great Spirit RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 65

to help the paleface medicine man heal the sick, to procure them abundant food, and to grant them better luck with their ponies and verdant pastures. Others offered up prayers, bowed and stoically withdrew. Aona-quiet, a Kiowa brave, took off his ear ring, the feathered neck of some bird, and as a token of friendship, handed it to the Bishop. It was a memorable day, during which much spiritual good was afforded the assembled Indians and which augured more favorably the successful destiny of St. Patrick’s Mission. (de Hasque n.d., 12) Attendance at St. Patrick’s increased considerably over the next several years. In 1893–94, the second year of operation, the dormitory facilities became overcrowded, compelling Ricklin to appeal to his benefactress, Mother Drexel, who procured an additional $1,500 for the construction of a new building. A wing attached to the original structure opened for Mass on May 20, 1894, and forty-six Fort Sill Apaches attended the school that year, doubling the number of pupils. By 1896 the school had expanded to accommodate 106 students, twice the capacity of the Presbyterian and Methodist schools near Anadarko. More buildings were constructed in 1899, and in 1900 the mission received a 160-acre allotment (de Hasque n.d., 12–19; Lehman 1968, 35).74 At the turn of the century St. Patrick’s Mission and School consisted of two dormitories, a classroom building, a laundry house, a rectory, and a convent for the sisters. A large farm operated by a master farmer produced adequate food for the students, and the surplus was sold for cash. After 1901 Ricklin had a dairy barn constructed, and milk was delivered into town on a regular basis (Lehman 1968, 35–36). The opening of the KCA Reservation in 1901 and the influx of Catholic settlers necessitated a church and rectory in Anadarko, so Ricklin solicited donations from the new citizens, procuring $463 used to buy three town lots. The first Mass conducted at the Holy Family Church in January 1902 was attended by several Benedictine fathers, including the Very Rev. Urban de Hasque (n.d., 18–19) of Chickasha, Oklahoma, author of a short history of St. Patrick’s Mission. Father Ricklin died in 1921 after serving the Indian community for thirty years; every business in Anadarko closed the day of his funeral. Of all the mission societies that opened schools on the reservation, Ricklin 66 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

built the largest and most efficient facility, a factor contributing to the demise of the Protestant boarding schools. Among the many friends Ricklin made in Anadarko were the military personnel who stopped by the mission on trips between Fort Sill and Fort Reno (Lehman 1968, 36). Mooney (1898, 147) also became close friends with the Benedictine father. Undoubtedly the most renowned students to attend St. Patrick’s mission were Stephen Mopope, James Auchiah, Jack Hokeah, Spencer Asah, and Monroe Tsatoke (also spelled Tsa-toke), who became legendary artists known in Oklahoma as the Kiowa Five (or Kiowa Six, counting Lois Smokey). Encouraged by Ricklin, they became skilled artists who trained future generations (Lehman 1968, 36). Many public buildings in Oklahoma contain murals they painted, including Buffalo Hunt, which adorns the first floor of Seminary Hall at Northeastern State University in Tahlequah. A Synopsis of Government Schools and Mission Schools As previously mentioned, the Kiowa School south of the Washita River and the Wichita Industrial Boarding School north of the agency below the river bluffs were the two government schools operating on the KCA Reservation in 1888. Since the two schools were capable of accommodating only 200 of the approximately 550 school-age children, the Bureau of Indian Affairs planned new schools for the Comanches at Fort Sill and for the Kiowas at Rainy Mountain. In early 1889 Agent Myers—anticipating construction of Methvin Institute, Mary Gregory Memorial School, Cache Creek Mission, and St. Patrick’s Mission—inspected the two government schools for his annual report. The Wichita School received praise for being clean and in good repair, though the Kiowa School “[was] a disgrace to the Government that owns it and the reservation upon which it stands.” Myers questioned renovating the dilapidated structure, noting that the Comanches still requested their own school near Fort Sill.75 Ignoring his predecessor’s remarks, Agent Adams ordered some repairs to keep the Kiowa School operating in 1890 despite the substandard conditions of the facility; both government schools were crowded, pressing him to keep them open. Counting Methvin Institute and Cache Creek Mission, only 179 students attended reservation schools that year, and even though he anticipated opening the school near Fort Sill, Adams RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 67

realized the need for more schools. Adams also criticized the inadequate industrial facilities at the government schools, emphasizing that the skills of the blacksmith were necessary for Indian men living in an era of buggies and hacks.76 In response Indian Commissioner Morgan visited the schools in November 1890, resulting in more repairs to the Kiowa School. Morgan’s visit apparently renewed Indian interest in the school, for in August 1891 Agent Adams commented that even the Ghost Dance had not affected attendance that year, nor had the January whipping incident and subsequent deaths of three Kiowa boys found frozen en route to their parents’ camps (see Swett 1935, 347–49; Nye 1937, 271–75).77 Construction of the Rainy Mountain and Fort Sill schools was under way in 1892, and in spite of construction classes were held at the Fort Sill School, located on Cache Creek, between two and four miles south of the post. Agent Day, Adams’s replacement, anticipated the opening of the Rainy Mountain school in early 1893. In the same annual report, Day listed attendance at the other six schools: (1) Wichita School, or Riverside Boarding School: seventy-seven students; (2) Kiowa, or Washita School: 147 students; (3) Methvin Institute: twenty-eight students; (4) Cache Creek Mission: thirty students; (5) Wichita Baptist: eleven students; (6) and Lone Wolf Mission: eleven students. The three government schools were over capacity, and the mission schools were under capacity.78 Rainy Mountain School opened in 1893 (Ellis 1996). After sixteen years of service, the dilapidated Kiowa School was finally abandoned in 1896, when Agent Baldwin—in his second year at the Kiowa Agency—deemed the structure unsafe for further use. Once again this reduced the number of government schools to three—Fort Sill, Rainy Mountain, and Riverside—which were operating 30 percent over capacity. The five mission schools—Methvin Institute, Mary Gregory Memorial, St. Patrick’s, Cache Creek Mission, and Wichita Baptist—were also overcrowded. To alleviate congestion the KCA Indians donated $25,000 of their grass money to build a school on Medicine Bluff Creek near Mount Scott.79 The Mount Scott school was still under construction in 1897, causing overcrowding in the other schools, which forced Rainy Mountain School, with a fifty-student capacity, to double its occupancy the next year. The delayed construction of the Mount Scott school may have been caused by the “constant uneasiness and unsettled state of 68 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

affairs” on the eve of the “opening” in August 1901.80 The school remained unopened, and there are no extant records reporting its operation before Oklahoma statehood in 1907.81 The annual reports for 1898 and 1900 mention that Ida A. Roff taught a day school in Anadarko, making her the first Episcopalian missionary at the agency since the departure of Reverend Wicks. Roff arrived in 1895 and departed in 1900. Though she was given credit for running a day school, Roff ’s students were all Wichita women attending a lacemaking class (Hume 1951, 115).82 Also between 1898 and 1900, the Wichita Baptist Mission closed, leaving seven schools in the KCA jurisdiction in 1901 after the opening: (1) Riverside Indian Boarding School: 161 students; (2) Rainy Mountain Indian Boarding School: 107 students; (3) Fort Sill Indian Boarding School: 168 students; (4) Mary Gregory Memorial Mission Boarding School: 22 students; (5) Methvin Institute Boarding School: 68 students; (6) St. Patrick’s Mission Boarding School: 82 students; and (7) Cache Creek Mission Boarding School: 49 students.83 The first three government schools served 436 students, whereas the four mission schools accommodated 221 students. In summary, 657 students attended boarding schools in 1901 out of a target population of 908 children between the ages of six and sixteen.84 All seven schools were still operating in 1906, on the eve of statehood.85 Origin and Diffusion of Peyote to the Kiowas Regarding the origin and diffusion of the Peyote rite to southwestern Oklahoma, Bagyanoi told LaBarre that the Kiowas received the ceremony from the Mescalero Apaches sometime around 1870 (see LaBarre 1938, 111).86 Recent scholars, however, notably the late Omer Stewart (1987, 47–51), Daniel C. Swan (1999, 3–4), and Thomas C. Maroukis (2010, 22–23), believe the nascent form of the Peyote rite originated with the Coahuiltecan-speaking Carrizos, then spread to the Mescalero and Lipan Apaches, who introduced it to the Kiowas and Comanches, perhaps dating back to the mid-nineteenth century, when Kiowa-Comanche war parties traveling south into Texas and Mexico were inevitably exposed to the vision-producing cactus and its rituals. The earliest Kiowa-Comanche Peyote use dates to around 1850, when Big Horse ate Peyote buttons to prophesy the well-being of war parties presumed lost. According to oriRESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 69

gin myths LaBarre recorded, members of both tribes reported that a war party encountered the Apaches—Mescalero in the Kiowa version—in their country and were invited into a Peyote tipi by a clairvoyant Peyotist who had “seen” them in the area. Having been instructed in its rites and paraphernalia, they took the religion back to their peoples (LaBarre 1938, 25n, 111). Among the early Peyote users, Quanah Parker is the best-remembered Peyote proselytizer on the KCA Reservation. The son of Cynthia Ann Parker—captured near Groesbeck, Texas, in 1836—and Peta Nocona, a Kwahada Comanche war chief, Quanah became a successful cattleman and businessman who got along well with government officials and missionaries; his preaching was largely responsible for the rapid spread of the Peyote rite (Stewart 1987, 70–79). Although Quanah Parker is usually identified as the first Peyote user among the KCA tribes, Bagyanoi identified Sankadota (Medicine Feather) and Sun Boy as the first Kiowa “Peyote eaters,” but Old Man Apekaum specified that Kaha G’odl (Crow’s Neck) was the first Kiowa to obtain Peyote from the Apaches.87 However, the Peyote buttons that Crow’s Neck brought back “didn’t take.” Later Ho’kíete and B‛á·bote married Apache women and were chiefly responsible for supplying the Kiowas with Peyote before the “government” came to Fort Sill. However, interest in the cactus soon waned. Apekaum also said that Sankadota, his brother, invited some Comanches to hold a meeting for the Kiowas. The visiting Comanches set up a canvas lodge, not a tipi with the half-moon altar. Other Kiowas were angry but did not stop the meeting held for Sankadota, though eventually the Peyote rite “grew more and more.”88 Stewart suggested that the Peyote religion probably did not become popular in the early years of the reservation era due to limited accessibility to the Peyoteros, or Peyote dealers working around Laredo, Texas, since Indian raids in Texas had created anti-Indian sentiments and open hostility (Stewart 1987, 57). Tsoodle acknowledged that Sankadota was responsible for bringing the Peyote rite to the Kiowas in 1885. He credited Sankadota, Old Man Apekaum, Zempadlte (Gnawing On a Bone), Bǫitse, and Haumpy for obtaining Peyote from some Comanches who had gotten their supply from Arizona Apaches. That summer a Peyote meeting was held around the time of the Little Peninsula Sun Dance. A group known as the Sun People 70 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

believed that Peyote went against the Ten Medicines—symbolizing the oldest Kiowa beliefs—so they opposed the new religion and ridiculed it. Thus feeling threatened, Ä′piatañ and other members were compelled to throw a rotten bear’s head inside the worshiper’s tipi.89 Two years later, when Pa-iñgya began to prophesy, the Peyote rite was firmly entrenched among the Mount Scott Kiowas, and Frizzlehead emerged as one of the leaders, according to Jimmy Quoetone.90 Tsoodle noted that by 1890, when Peyote had become popular, a group of Peyotists near Rainy Mountain Creek “pledged to take no other religion but Peyote” and organized as SęyiɛGa, or the Twelve Disciples of Peyote; they were analogous to the twelve disciples in Christianity. Tsoodle and Old Man Apekaum identified members as Kyąhikǫhi (Little Bow, the leader), Robert Ä′sem, Doiba, K’oGoiden (Elk Tongue), Kɔk’de (his wife), Ehǫ, Aki/ɛnde (his wife), Pá·gotógudl (Red Buffalo), Hɔ·zepa (his wife), Bó·ton, Gu/ekɔ, and T’ä/’pɔ.91 Since women were not allowed in Peyote meetings during the early years of the Kiowa-Comanche crescent moon or Half Moon ceremony, it is unique that the wives of Ehǫ, Elk Tongue, and Red Buffalo belonged to the Twelve Disciples of Peyote. Of the charter members of the disciples, Red Buffalo is remembered today as one of the earliest “Peyote celebrants,” as well as a Ghost Dance leader (Boyd 1983, 283). Ceremonies conducted by the disciples as described by Apekaum were held in a canvas tent with a fire in the middle and a crescent-shaped earthen altar on the west side. Each meeting began at sunrise, continued through the rest of the day, and was run “like [a] Quaker meeting” because there was no singing or drumming, no prayers, and no water ceremony as in the Half Moon ceremony. Instead testimonials and preaching dominated the activities inside the lodge, and in the evening a feast was consumed, although by the turn of the century this ceremony gave way to the standard Half Moon rite. David Paddlety, who interpreted for Apekaum, attributed the testimonials and preaching to Christian influences.92 George Hunt attended a meeting of the Twelve Disciples in April 1901 led by Little Bow, assisted by Robert Ä′sem, who drummed. Others present included Rainy Mountain Charley, his wife, Cap Brown, a twelve-yearold sick boy, and his mother. Hunt described his vision, which happened when Little Bow was praying: “Rainy Mountain Charley’s face was clear, RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 71

and so was Doito’s, but his (RMC’s) wife and son were in a thick mist; then he saw a picket fence, diamond shaped, already old and leaning, tall grass growing out of a grave, and he saw the mother of the sick boy sitting at the grave with her hair cut. Every one of these people present is dead now save Rainy Mountain Charley and Doito, the two whose faces had not been covered by the thick mist.” Afterward Hunt said he would never return to a Peyote meeting and joined the Baptist church due to his bad vision.93 Apekaum noted that the meetings of the Twelve Disciples of Peyote did not last very long, and its members subsequently attended regular Peyote meetings.94 Mooney initially discovered Kiowa- Comanche Peyote use when he attended his first meeting, in the summer of 1891. Afterward he was permitted to bring his new Kodak camera to Peyote meetings, making him the first non-Indian to document the Kiowa- Comanche Half Moon rite (Stewart 1987, 34–36; Moses 1984, 182–84). The meetings Mooney observed were conducted in a canvas tipi where a special altar had been prepared earlier in the afternoon; ceremonies that began at approximately 9:00 p.m. were conducted by the Roadman, a local Peyotist who knew how to run meetings. Earlier in the afternoon the participants had spent a great deal of time preparing themselves for the all-night ritual, donning fine buckskin, feathers, and paint (Stewart 1987, 37). Charley Apekaum identified several events compelling Kiowas to sponsor Peyote meetings: children’s birthdays, recovery from illness, doctoring, and praying for the well-being of loved ones (see LaBarre 1938, 43).95 Again, it is not necessary to reiterate the details of the all-night Peyote meetings that emerged during the 1890s, though it is important to note that several elements of the incipient Peyote rite were redolent with earlier forms of Kiowa worship: the leader, or Roadman, sat at the west side of the tipi, the place of honor; the Fireman, who kept the fire fed with logs all night, sat by the door, as did the sergeant at arms in former warrior society meetings; clockwise passing movements within the lodge and the ritual number 4 and the four cardinal points were retained; sage and cedar were still used for incensing the body and ritual paraphernalia; and the all-night meetings resembled old-time gatherings prior to the departure of war parties. Another syncretism was the supplication of Kiowa powers in prayer, such as Stars and Moon, but the most import72 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

ant prayers were to Dædl, “Star-big,” the Morning Star, perceived as the “messenger of the sun,” a spirit force that Hunting Horse likened to John the Baptist.96 Supplicants also smoked and prayed to Domdɔki, “Earthcreator” or “Earth-lord.” Smoking while praying also was an indigenous practice, although smoking Bull Durham tobacco, rolled in cornhusk papers, as opposed to the standard long-stem pipe, was an imported trait, possibly from the Southwest (LaBarre 1957, 32; LaBarre 1938, 48, 55n). As Charley Apekaum explained, pledging Peyote meetings was a vestige of the prereservation era, when Sun Dances were sponsored to give thanks for recovering from serious illness. Peyote meetings were also held to commemorate the first four birthdays of a child’s life to ensure proper development, a practice reminiscent of the days when a father offered strips of his children’s skin to Sun. In a sense, sponsoring a Peyote tipi meeting preserved the important Kiowa practice of acknowledging spiritual powers for their help during austere times. The use of eagle feathers and the eagle wing-bone whistle by the Roadman was another survival from the past. Blowing the eagle wing-bone whistle to imitate a water bird at midnight suggests a connection between the powers of these sacred birds. Feathers from all birds were sacred, and the fans carried by Peyotists into meetings were smoked in the cedar incense and used for doctoring in the early morning hours (LaBarre 1957, 34; LaBarre 1938, 43, 51–52). Other ceremonial features of the Kiowa-Comanche Peyote rite that paralleled “older Kiowa patterns” were described by LaBarre, who associated the position of the Roadman and the Fireman with the seating positions once assumed by members of the Old Women’s Society feasts. He also recognized similarities in how food was set out and consumed in both ceremonies. Lining the seating area with sage and placing sage under Father Peyote in some meetings reminded LaBarre of the sage stage constructed for the Buffalo Medicine Lodge bundle repair meetings. Finally, LaBarre (1938, 112n) wrote, “The wide distribution of sweat bath doctoring and society meetings . . . accounts for the ease with which peyotism made its way in the Plains.” Many aspects of the Peyote ritual originated in former practices. Other components of the Half Moon rite derived from practices in Mexico. After comparing the Kiowa-Comanche rite to the “transitional” MesRESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 73

calero Apache ceremony and practices among the Huichol-Tarahumaras of northern Mexico, LaBarre and Stewart both concluded that there were some similarities between the Kiowa rite and other practices. LaBarre (1938, 56) summarized the common elements between the Kiowa ceremony and Mexican rites: “the ceremonial trip for peyote (more elaborate in Mexico, to be sure), the meeting held at night, the fetish peyote, the use of feathers and the abundance of symbolisms connected with birds, the ritual circuit, ceremonial fire and incensing, water ceremonies, the ‘Peyote Woman,’ morning ‘baptism’ or ‘curing’ rites, ‘talking’ peyote, abstinence from salt, ritual breakfast, singing, tobacco ceremonials, public confessions of sins, Morning Star symbolisms, and (for northern Mexico) the crescent moon altar.” Absent in the Kiowa-Comanche ceremony was the bloodletting, outdoor dancing, and drunken comportment (drunkenness was an aspect of Mexican curing practices) common in Mexican rites (Stewart 1987, 51–52; LaBarre 1938, 55–56). Early Kiowa Peyote meetings were similar to those performed by Mescalero Apache shamans, many of whom were rivals, and LaBarre alleged that the Peyote ceremony easily fit in with Kiowa concepts of divination, prophesy, and “witchcraft anxiety.” In addition, prior to the cessation of nineteenth-century warfare, Peyote was compatible with the mescal bean ceremony and war divination. Overall the shamanistic nature of early Mescalero Apache Peyote meetings was attractive to Kiowa and Comanche shamans who practiced sorcery against their adversaries. The vision-producing effects of the cactus were also desirable, but it was the curing, or doctoring, performed during the meetings, usually early in the morning before sunrise, that attracted converts. LaBarre discovered that even though doctoring was a secondary feature of Peyote meetings, many meetings were called solely for the purpose of curing patients and that Peyote was invoked as a healing power since the incipient KiowaComanche rite. Many neophytes healed in the Peyote tipi were grateful for the curing dɔdɔ in Peyote, which helped the rapid spread of the Peyote religion (LaBarre 1938, 54, 85). More recently, Maroukis (2010, 59– 67) has stressed that the image of Peyote as a “medicine” is the most important proselytizing agent of the religion. On many levels Kiowa Peyote doctors were very similar to indigenous Buffalo doctors and curers, especially since several reservation-era sha74 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

mans had incorporated Peyote into their practices. Old Man Apekaum told LaBarre (1957, 12) that Tonakɔt, the turtle doctor, used the sucking technique to remove a piece of poorly chewed “rough Peyote” that was lodged in his neck, causing a sore throat.97 The sucking technique, used by old-time doctors to extract foreign objects, often “injected” by sorcerers, was employed in healing episodes during Peyote meetings, a procedure that the Lipan Apaches had also practiced (LaBarre 1938, 8). Sorcery was also known to occur within the Peyote tipi, as described by Charley Apekaum regarding Tonakɔt, who was known to bewitch people during Peyote meetings: Just a few miles from here they had a Peyote meeting. While Tonakat [Tonakɔt] was singing, a very fine tall straight nice-looking man, long hair, a fine specimen, he got up and dance[d] while Tonakat was singing. While Tonakat was singing he commenced to holler and make a few turns and sat down. People said “if you don’t understand these things, don’t get up.” Some other meeting this young man went in with Silver Horn, only man who could make him do anything. He’d do anything Silver Horn did—if Silver Horn took a cup he would drink, if Silver Horn would wet his hair, he would do it. Silver Horn commenced to get tired, and he wouldn’t sit down till Silver Horn did. Never did get cured. Dead now, he died a long time ago. That changed his appearance, his whiskers grew, hair wasn’t combed any more—that’s the reason people thought Tonakat did it. (LaBarre 1957, 12) It is noteworthy that episodes of sorcery often compelled some individuals to turn to other religions, particularly Christianity. As will be seen, some of the early Christian converts ardently opposed Peyote and indigenous Kiowa religious beliefs founded in the Ten Medicines; “rupture” from traditions often characterizes conversion (Lampe 2010, 80; see Marshall 2016). By the end of the reservation era, an increasing number of Baptist and Methodist neophytes rarely violated Christian doctrine and did not attend secular dances either, because the missionaries taught that camping, dancing, picnics, Peyote worship, and any functions conducted outside the auspices of the church were “pagan” and “heathen” practices (LaBarre 1957, 6, 140, 159). Moreover, since its discovery by non-Indians, RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 75

Peyote was associated with alcohol and dangerous narcotics (Maroukis 2010, 46, 49, 50, 103, 108, 116, 118–21). Undoubtedly the assault on Peyotism during the early twentieth century resulted in the incorporation of several Christian elements into the Peyote ritual, resulting in simple syncretisms designed to protect the religion from outsiders. Shamanism and the Hand Game Intertribal visiting, a major social activity during the reservation period, played an important role in the revival of earlier forms of entertainment, particularly the Hand Game, which James Slotkin (1975, 17–20) classified as a nativistic and “syncretistic” religious movement. According to Mooney (1898, 348), the Kiowa dó-á, “tipi game,” was played inside warm lodges on cold winter nights. Different versions of the Hand Game were popular throughout the American West, and the guessing game always involved gambling, except when it was incorporated into the Ghost Dance, as among the Pawnees, Arapahos, Otoes, Wichitas, and possibly the Assiniboines and Cheyennes (Lesser 1933, 127, 322). Because most occurrences of the Hand Game involved using personal powers to “see” hidden markers, shamanism was usually associated with playing the game (Harner 1982, 132). Max Frizzlehead described the Kiowa version of the Hand Game, which involved two teams, each consisting of four to ten men and a designated leader, typically the best guesser. Playing the game required each leader, in turn, to conjecture the location of the markers hidden by the opposing team, whose members sang Hand Game songs to confuse the guesser. The game began with the two teams sitting on the north and south sides of the tipi, and the two leaders sitting at the west side of their respective teams. A pile of tally sticks was positioned in front of each team, and a pile was located between the two leaders. Before play commenced, elk teeth markers were circulated to one of the teams, and bets—horses, saddles, blankets, and other goods—were made between individuals on opposing sides. Frizzlehead narrated the play of the Hand Game: “The leader gives the [two] elk teeth to two men to hide. The hiding team starts to sing. The hiders put their hands behind their backs or under their blankets and hide the teeth. Then they bring their hands in front of them with fingers closed and wave their hands in time to the singing 76 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

Fig. 4. Floor plan of the Kiowa Hand Game. A and B are the two teams; C and D are the two leaders; E, F, and G are the stick counters. The object of the Hand Game was to win the pile of sticks marked F, as well as all the sticks belonging to the opponents. Drawing by Scott Kracht based on a sketch by John Collier, from “Notes on Kiowa Ethnography,” National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

in various gestures supposed to confuse their opponents. The singing continues until the opposing leader decides where the teeth are and designates his choice by means of a signal with the right hand. The hiders open the hands indicated.”98 There were four possible guesses as to where the two men with outstretched arms had hidden the markers: (1) the two inside hands; (2) the two outside hands; (3) one inside hand, one outside hand; and (4) one outside hand, one inside hand. Based on these possibilities, Frizzlehead described an imaginary game: RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 77

Team A hiding. D guesses wrong the position of both teeth. C takes a counter from F and starts a new pile nearer to himself. If A continues to win, when all the counters have been moved from F then C starts taking counters from G. When all counters are gone from G team A wins. If D guesses one right and one wrong C places one of the counters at right angles to indicate that half a point has been won. The man who loses passes his tooth over to D. D and the man who won hide the teeth, D having to match his opponent. If D loses C takes the counter and the tooth goes back to team A. If D wins the counter is placed in its original position and team B gets the other tooth, and it is their turn to hide. If D guesses right when A is hiding, team B takes the counters outright, teeth outright.99 Frizzlehead indicated that there were approximately ten Hand Game songs and that the winning team sang a victory song, usually a Daimpega song.100 Mooney (1898, 347–48) attributed the revival of the Kiowa Hand Game in the early 1880s to Dátekȃñ (Keeps-His-Name-Always), a shaman with very powerful dɔdɔ who was the best Hand Game player in the tribe. During the winter of 1881–82, Dátekȃñ was pitted against the famous Plains Apache shaman Dävéko (see Brant 1969, 114–16) in a Hand Game that he won with little contest. Mooney (1898, 348) described the “medicine” powers possessed by Dátekȃñ: “The Kiowa leader was recognized distinctively as having ‘medicine’ for this game, and it was said that he could do wonderful things with the ‘button,’ making it pass invisibly from one hand to another while he held his hands outstretched and far apart, and even to throw it up into the air and cause it to remain there suspended invisibly until he was ready to put out his hand again and catch it; in other words, he was probably an expert sleight-of-hand performer.” Frizzlehead told Collier that some men used their medicine powers in the Hand Game, and he referred to Tepdéa (Standing Beside the Sweathouse, or Medicine Sweathouse) as a Do·ɔdɔdɔ (Hand Game medicine man) possessing such great sleight-of-hand techniques “that it was supposed that he had some special powers.” When Frizzlehead was a boy, there was once a dɔDo·ɔ, “medicine hand game,” between two teams composed solely of shamans.101 78 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

Fig. 5. Water Turtle tipi. This heraldic tipi was distinguished by the pictograph representing a turtle-eagle, a turtle shell with eagle wings, beak, and claws. Photograph of tipi model made for James Mooney, ca. 1897. Courtesy of the National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution (#1471 A8).

The Hand Game revival therefore featured intertribal competition, often matching rival shamans against one another. Frizzlehead recalled competitive games played against Cheyenne, Arapaho, Osage, Pawnee, Plains Apache, and Comanche teams.102 Alexander Lesser (1933, 148–54) described a Kiowa-Pawnee game played in the early 1880s. Haumpy told William Bascom about a Kiowa- Comanche Hand Game in which the Kiowa team was led by Tonakɔt (Water Turtle), the most powerful and feared Kiowa shaman, who died in the early 1890s (Nye 1962, 257–75).103 According to Mary Buffalo, Tonakɔt received his medicine powers as a boy who played and fished in the shallow part of a river, then became drowsy and fell asleep on the sandy riverbank, where he dreamed of underwater travel. In his watery dream he entered a strangely painted tipi through a door flap decorated like a soft-shell turtle, then encountered a multitude of fish and underwater animals lined up in rows to bestow their powers on him. Afterward, despite his youth, Tonakɔt painted his power symbol—a moss-green surface with a black circle in the middle, below which was a “bullet” spot with two zigzags diagonally from it—on his shield, and began doctoring. He also painted his tipi to resemble the underwater lodge where he obtained his power: a turtle-eagle, or a turtle RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 79

shell with eagle wings, beak, and claws, with long-stem pipes protruding from the outstretched wings (see Ewers 1978, 27–28).104 Haumpy described how Tonakɔt accepted the challenge for a “medicine hand game” and prepared by “painting his face and head red all over, tieing [sic] black and white beads to his hair and black handkerchiefs about his wrists.” Before the Hand Game began, Tonakɔt suggested practicing magic to warm up; he took a stick, made motions to hide it, and then held out two empty hands. Next Tonakɔt rubbed his hand on the ground and shook his head, and the stick popped out of his ear. Tonakɔt then entered the tipi where the game was to be played. Heavy wagering of horses, saddles, rifles, and money occurred before the game, which began with the Kiowas sitting on the north side of the lodge, the Comanches to the south. Singing a Hand Game song, Tonakɔt and an unnamed Kiowa hid the elk teeth, and the Comanche leader guessed wrong the first time. Tonakɔt held out two empty hands, then reached over to one of his teammates and pulled the elk tooth out of the eagle feather he wore in his hair.105 The game continued: Finally the Comanche got the teeth, and they said, “We’ll throw the tooth in the fire and if you take it out you win the game.” Tonokwt [Tonakɔt] didn’t want to. Then the Comanche said “We’ll take it outside and hide it and if you find it, you win.” Tonokwt agreed so the Comanche went out with it. Tonokwt meanwhile asked everyone to be very quiet. He touched the ground with his fingers and cleaned out his ear with dirt, and listened intently. When the Comanche returned, Tonokwt announced that he hadn’t heard the tooth drop, and that the Comanche still had it. This the Comanche denied, but Tonokwt told him to stand up. When he did this, the tooth fell out of his clothes. So the Kiowa won.106 Intertribal Hand Game competition, as in this story, was usually friendly, although rivalries sometimes led to sorcery. Like most shamans, Tonakɔt chose between using his dɔdɔ for good or evil purposes, depending on the circumstances. For instance, in a well-remembered curing episode described by Mary Buffalo, he took Tongyei, or Clyde Coco, underwater for an extended period of time, then brought him 80 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

up completely healed.107 Hunting Horse, however, observed that Water Turtle’s physical unattractiveness contributed to his penchant for practicing malevolent magic. Even though he reportedly had several wives, Tonakɔt was known to make advances toward beautiful women, who feared him because he allegedly used sorcery to kill a young woman who had spurned his overtures.108 Kintadl told Jane Richardson that Tonakɔt received part of his dɔdɔ from Gopher and Mole, which he used to cause facial sores on his victims. Buffalo said that Tonakɔt used image magic to kill a Caddo he believed had “witched” him. Fashioning a mud image of his victim, Tonakɔt took it underwater to seal the man’s fate.109 According to Nye (1962, 264– 66), he also killed a Wichita man who had insulted him during a game of monte. Jim Ahtone told Bascom that when Tonakɔt died, apparently from drinking poisoned whiskey, he had nine followers or apprentices in various stages of learning his powers by observing his magical displays, although it was believed his rapid death prevented him from passing on his dɔdɔ. Tonakɔt was not very popular, and “all the Kiowas were glad” after his passing. His children preceded him in death, lending credence to the Kiowa belief that practicing sorcery inevitably comes back to harm the practitioner or his or her family. Several years after his death Tonakɔt’s parents were visiting his grave site one day when they found a small turtle on top of the grave. Given to a friend, the turtle was placed in a water dish, where it stayed for three days but vanished on the fourth morning, convincing everyone of the great powers that Tonakɔt had possessed in life. (For slightly different variations of these accounts, see Nye 1962, 257–75.)110 That Kiowa shamans like Tonakɔt were potential sorcerers is indicative of “cultures that rely on coordinate control to maintain social order” and where “conflict is resolved through the direct actions of the persons involved such as through retaliation, apology, or avoidance” (Levinson 1996, 221). Moreover sorcery is found in societies incurring rapid sociocultural change, and through time, sorcery accusations often set in motion positive behavior, which eventually restores social equilibrium (Child and Child 1993, 117). Today the Hand Game is still played by Kiowa teams that travel great distances across the Plains to wager against Cheyenne and Crow teams or those from other tribes. Although sorcery does not RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 81

occur, players are known to use “magic” to gain favorable outcomes, or at least they are accused of having such powers. Prophets in the 1880s Following his Hand Game victory over Dävéko during the winter of 1881–82, a confident Dátekȃñ changed his name to Pa-tepte (BuffaloBull- Coming-Out), claiming to have received a power vision directing him to bring the buffalo to the surface of the earth based on the myth that they had been underground cave dwellers prior to their release by Saynday, the Kiowa trickster. Frank Given and George Hunt told Marriott two versions of this emergence story (see Parsons 1929, 21– 22).111 Mooney claimed that when the Southern Plains herds became extinct in the early 1880s, the Kiowas, like many Plains Indians, thought that whites were holding them underground to exterminate them. Pa-tepte boasted that his dɔdɔ could restore the buffalo (Mooney 1898, 349). Old Man Apekaum stated that although Pa-tepte did not possess a tribal medicine bundle, he asserted that the Ten Medicines appeared in his vision, telling him to prophesy the return of the buffalo. Pa-tepte also claimed that Fox, Wolf, and Buffalo were other sources of his medicine power. An unnamed woman told Marriott that Pa-tepte invoked the powers of the Ten Medicines.112 According to Tsoodle, seven men, including himself, and seven women believed the prophecy and formed a group that accompanied Pa-tepte to different camps. Marriott’s informant identified herself as one of the Buffalo Medicine-Man Disciples and described the seven women as very young and beautiful, which concurred with Apekaum’s depiction of them.113 Mooney (1898, 350) related how Pa-tepte and his entourage traveled to different encampments and held meetings in a special tipi: “He [Pa-tepte] erected a medicine tipi, in front of which he set up a pole with a buffalo skin upon it, and prepared for himself a medicine shirt ornamented with blue beads, over which he threw a red blanket trimmed with eagle feathers. Thus attired, and carrying a sacred pipe in his hand, he began his mystic ceremonies within the tipi, and from time to time announced the results to the people.” Tsoodle said that an imitation buffalo hide hung on a frame at the west side of the tipi and that Pa-tepte owned some kind of 82 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

medicine bundle. While dancing outside the tipi in which the secret ceremonies were conducted, Pa-tepte carried a wolf hide, although LaBarre was unable to learn the significance of the objects.114 Tsoodle told LaBarre that he witnessed the first prophecy of Pa-tepte, who assembled a group of followers in a camp somewhere along the Washita River bottoms, where a sweat lodge was constructed; Marriott identified the location as “the Big Bend of the Washita valley between Carnegie and Mountain View.” Following a medicine-making ceremony, Pa-tepte proclaimed he could use his medicine powers to summon the buffalo from the underworld. Contrary to Mooney’s account, Tsoodle claimed that Pa-tepte did not blame white people for holding the buffalo captive.115 Marriott’s anonymous collaborator described a nighttime ceremony in which Pa-tepte claimed his “miracle-work” would bring back the buffalo. She provided some information about the inside of the tipi, the disciples, and the ritual: The inside of the tipi had a fireplace cut out for an altar in the shape of a pan. The women sat on the north side of the tipi, the men on the south, and the medicine-man on the west. He said, “To-night is my time to bring the buffaloes out from the earth.” Then he said, “Everybody get ready. The time comes for this miracle-work to be done by me, and I want everyone to pray hard and work hard with me.” The men had no shirts on, only breech-cloths; their bodies were painted with red clay. Each one had a fox-hide in his hand. They swung these as they sang. The medicine-man had a wolf-hide cape on and over it, around his neck, he wore a lot of blue beads. That’s the costume they had on. He instructed those men that when the time came for him to work out his power they must have faith in it to make it work. The song was started. They began to sing. One man was holding the rock down. The medicine man told him that if the dust began to fly out of it, to let go. A buffalo robe was lying on the west side of the tipi. We sang and sang, but no buffaloes came. I thought how if the buffaloes came I would make a dash through the side of the tipi. I was afraid. There were no buffaloes. That miracle failed. He said, “There is one more chance, and RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 83

that rests with me. If I can make this robe stand up and be a buffalo again, the buffaloes will come back.” But he failed again. . . . The women wore their ordinary clothing, and held nothing in their hands. Each woman has seven strings of small blue beads and a narrow strip of otter fur fastened to the back of her head. The fronts of their dresses were red, and their sleeves were made out of red handkerchiefs.116 Pa-tepte continuously made medicine through the winter of 1882–83, although Tsoodle noted that he encountered resistance from Tonakɔt and some of the returned Fort Marion prisoners.117 Despite the opposition, many people brought offerings of horses, blankets, and money to Patepte, until he failed to summon the bison during the summer of 1883, which he blamed on one of his followers for violating a taboo that would nullify his medicine for another five years (Mooney 1898, 350; Nye 1937, 263– 66). Apekaum remembered that Pa-tepte had claimed the buffalo would return when the coalesced Kiowa bands were en route to the Sun Dance encampment.118 The summer of 1883 was also marked by the death of one of Pa-tepte’s disciples, Sebohon (Hat), which discouraged the others. Tsoodle noted that after the “buffalo prophet” failed to bring back the buffalo for the Nez Perce Sun Dance, he “just got sick, [and it] didn’t take him very long till he died,” causing the Kiowas to believe that his death was linked to the false claims of his medicine.119 Marriott’s informant stated that Patepte “spoke to the spirit” and accepted full responsibility for failing to bring back the buffalo. Thus the “failure of the power was not to apply to the members of the society, but to him,” which sealed the prophet’s fate, much to the chagrin of his followers.120 Two months following the Sun Dance, Pa-tepte began hemorrhaging, then died early in the winter of 1883–84. Apekaum declared that Pa-tepte did not live long because he failed to bring back the bison and because the power sources of his medicine—Ten Medicines, Fox, Wolf, and Buffalo—killed him. In retrospect he deemed the Kiowas credulous for following Pa-tepte, though their faith in the Ten Medicines remained undaunted.121 Five years after Pa-tepte failed to return the bison, Pá-iñgya (In-theMiddle) began prophesying. In the spring of 1887 he purported to be the 84 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

chosen replacement of Pa-tepte and that his dɔdɔ was stronger because he had Whirlwind and Fire power, which would blow away, then burn up white people, and any Indians living like them. Setting up camp on Elk Creek near Lone Wolf ’s encampment, Pá-iñgya announced that all who joined him would be exempt from destruction. Using indigenous technologies, Pá-iñgya wielded a special block of wood, kindled a sacred fire from it, and instructed his would-be followers to use it to light their tipi fires. The ritual symbolized the rejection of matches, flint, and steel, implements of white culture (Mooney 1898, 220, 356–57). Tsoodle, Jimmy Quoetone, and Max Frizzlehead identified the followers of Pá-iñgya as the Baiyop (Sun People, or Sons of the Sun) because they adhered to the religious beliefs embodied by Sun and the Ten Medicines. The Sun People also supported the basic doctrine espoused by Pá-iñgya: that he was powerful enough to destroy the white race as far as his eyes could see and that all Kiowas refusing to join his Elk Creek camp would be consumed by flames when he looked at them. Tsoodle suggested that Pá-iñgya received his power from the clouds while in a conscious state, not through a dream vision; uniquely the “Great Spirit (not Sun) gave him power.”122 Before rising to power as a prophet, Pá-iñgya had owned a Buffalo shield, although his status as a member of the Buffalo Medicine Lodge is unclear. Even though Pá-iñgya did not have any medicine powers before 1887, Quoetone noted that he had accompanied war parties in former years and was a renowned storyteller and joker.123 Tsoodle specified that membership in the Sons of the Sun was around twenty, whereas Max Frizzlehead thought there were thirty members, including Ä′piatañ, Blue Bird, Spotted Bird, Kiowa Charley, Lone Bear, Red Buffalo, Big Bow, and Kiowa George.124 Jimmy Quoetone and Tsoodle recalled that they all wore distinctive clothing and regalia: buckskin leggings with blue arrows painted on them, tips pointing up, buckskin shirts, red blankets, and wildcat quivers.125 According to Mooney (1898, 357), Pá-iñgya appointed ten “assistant priests” to help prepare for the new order. Group gatherings of the Sun People involved smoking while gazing steadily at the sun. Tsoodle recalled that “all of them like to went blind strained their eyes.”126 Frizzlehead said that the Sun People also formed a Hand Game team and performed a dance borrowed from the Eastern Pueblos. A few years ago Raymond Tongkeamha was RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 85

visiting in Taos Pueblo when a woman said to him, “Your people stole some of our songs!”127 According to Mooney, Pá-iñgya announced during the summer of 1887 that the day of reckoning was drawing near, so he summoned the Kiowa faithful to his Elk Creek headquarters. Most responded to the request, flocking to Elk Creek after removing their children from the agency boarding schools, except for the Mount Scott followers of Sun Boy and Stumbling Bear, who opposed the Sun People. Pá-iñgya promised that his medicine powers would protect all who followed him, and he boasted that his magic would render helpless soldiers and other enemies. He also proclaimed he had received messages from his powers that hundreds of whites had already perished. Frizzlehead recalled the events that occurred that summer.128 While the assembled Kiowas waited for the restoration of past lifeways, troops from Fort Sill by happenstance arrived in the vicinity of the Elk Creek encampment—Nye (1937, 269) stated that Sergeant I-See-O of Indian Troop L summoned the soldiers—causing great unrest among the proselytes. Jimmy Quoetone and Old Man Apekaum recounted how Frizzlehead, T’ebodal, Sun Boy, and other Mount Scott Kiowas later investigated the events and learned that troops had spent the night near Mountain View and the next day inadvertently came close to the camp. Fortunately bloodshed was averted, and the excitement subsided when the powers professed by Pá-iñgya faltered and did not produce the prophesied results. As with Pa-tepte, the “buffalo prophet,” Pá-iñgya lost popularity when his powers failed, and the majority of the Kiowas returned home (see Mooney 1898, 220, 356–57; Mooney 1896, 906–7; Nye 1937, 269).129 Jimmy Quoetone pointed out that Pá-iñgya nevertheless still maintained a small following because the Sun People continued to wear their distinctive clothing and regalia, rode together in formation on gray horses, and whenever they ate meat, slices were cut off and offered to Sun, then placed on the ground as offerings.130 Tsoodle noted that members also drank from special “grey-granite ware cup[s]” symbolizing clouds that no one else could use, especially if they ingested a recently introduced sacrament: Peyote.131 Lone Bear, a former Sons of the Sun member, informed Richardson that meetings of the Sun People continued through the unfinished Sun Dance of 1890, and, analogous to sodality meetings, 86 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

two “workers” sat by the eastern tipi opening. Participants removed their shirts, unbraided their hair, smoked, sang old going-off-to-war songs, and during pipe-smoking intervals each person blew smoke on the person to his left, who rubbed it into his body. Symbolically the pipe represented a rifle and the smoke stood for bullets, so the rite implied invulnerability to death from the weapons of white people.132 Desiring to elevate their status, Pá-iñgya planned to initiate the Sons of the Sun as full-fledged members into the Kâ-itséñko “Real or Principal Dogs” Society—which had not staged a dance since the early 1870s—during the 1890 Sun Dance. His motivation, according to Frizzlehead and Sanko, was that the O-ho-ma Society, recently formed in 1883–84, had conducted meetings like the other warrior societies during the Sun Dances of 1885 and 1887.133 Lone Bear related that the plot conceived by Pá-iñgya was to have Yellow Wolf, a former Kâ-itséñko member, prepare the Sun People for their induction by dressing them in the ceremonial regalia and sashes, and then instructing them in the proper dance steps. This infuriated Frizzlehead the elder and other former Kâ-itséñko warriors. Even though the Sun Dance collapsed that summer when the soldier scare sent everyone scattering, the Sons of the Sun never became Kâ-itséñko and found themselves unpopular and camping alone in the Sun Dance circle.134 Concurrent with the zenith of the Sons of the Sun movement, the Peyote rite was making strong inroads among the Mount Scott Kiowas. According to Jimmy Quoetone and Tsoodle, Pá-iñgya and his remaining followers feared that Peyotism challenged their religious beliefs, particularly because it was a foreign religion opposing the ethos embodied by the Ten Medicines, the oldest form of Kiowa worship. Not taken seriously after the aborted 1890 Sun Dance, the Sun People, bitter because of Peyote’s rising popularity, decided to ridicule those who chose the new religion. On one occasion Lone Bear, Ä′piatañ, and Big Bow, steadfast Sons of the Sun, pitched a decaying bear’s head inside the tipi where a Peyote meeting was taking place. Instead of fleeing after encountering the ominous object, the Peyote worshipers sang a song prophesying that the Sun People would eventually convert to the new religion, which happened after 1890. Particularly detrimental to the Sons of the Suns was the death of several members who were allegedly impervious to RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 87

bodily harm; the society was disbanded shortly afterward (see LaBarre 1938, 112; Mooney 1898, 357).135 Despite the collapse of the horse and buffalo culture and the Sun Dance, the belief in dɔdɔ did not disappear, for Kiowas sought it wherever it could be found. Unfortunately the prophet movements that promised to restore past lifeways failed as Pa-tepte and Pá-iñgya were unable to bring back the buffalo. Pa-tepte died in the winter of 1883–84, and Páiñgya’s efforts to restore the old ways in 1887 were likewise unsuccessful, though the Sun People continued to meet. Ironically Peyote appears to have been one of their newly acquired medicines, though members initially rejected the nascent religion. Nevertheless after the Sun People disbanded, many became Peyotists, and Pá-iñgya converted to the Ghost Dance religion. In accordance with the belief that magical powers are not mutually exclusive, Kiowas were searching for a source of power to ameliorate a lifestyle now characterized by dependency on the federal government for their survival within reservation boundaries. For the next quarter century many turned to the Ghost Dance as a source of power.

88 RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD

2 The Ghost Dance, 1890–1916 Compared to other revitalization movements spawned during the reservation period, the Kiowa Ghost Dance emerged as a syncretic amalgam of Christianity, prophecy, tribal beliefs, and the Peyote rite. Originating from the visionary experience of Wovoka (The Cutter), a Paviotso Paiute who lived in Mason Valley, Nevada, forty miles northwest of the Walker River Reservation, the Ghost Dance diffused eastward by 1890 to the Lakota Sioux in the Dakotas and the tribes of Oklahoma Territory.1 Known to local whites as Jack Wilson, Wovoka was the son of Tavibo, a follower of Wodziwob, founder of the Ghost Dance that had swept the West Coast in 1870. Concurrent with a solar eclipse on January 1, 1889, Wovoka “died” and was taken to heaven, where he espied deceased Indians living in a land of opulence and “engaged in their oldtime sports and occupations.” Wovoka also met God, who decreed that all Indians were to embrace love, peace, and an Anglo work ethic over lying, cheating, quarreling, and warfare. Heeding these instructions would ensure the reunion of the living with those in the “other world” devoid of death, sickness, and old age. The dance given to Wovoka was to be conducted “at intervals, for five consecutive days each time,” to ensure the rapid emergence of this utopian state. As the Ghost Dance and associated paraphernalia—especially the red ocher paint for the dancers’ faces— spread to the Dakotas and Oklahoma Territory, Ghost Dance symbols were interpreted according to the values of each tribe whose members adopted the ceremony (Mooney 1896, 777–79; see Thornton 1987, 140; Smoak 2006, 165– 69; Andersson 2008, 28; Barney 1986, 82–83). Christian elements in Wovoka’s Ghost Dance doctrine were inspired by his relationship with the Wilson family, who employed him as a farm89

hand. Family members indoctrinated him in the Christian faith, gave him a Christian name, and taught him to read the Bible. Garold D. Barney (1986, 82–83) suggests that Wovoka’s doctrine is an amalgam of Presbyterian, Catholic, and Mormon traits combined with “native pageant” (see Smoak 2006, 167). On New Year’s Day 1892, Mooney trekked to Mason Valley to interview Wovoka, who insisted that the tenets of the Ghost Dance emphasized reconciliation and that all Indians were to “follow the white man’s road and to adopt the habits of civilization.” Wovoka also asserted that he did not invent the ghost shirts, so popular among the Sioux, and that the Paiute rite did not involve trance states like the Plains versions of the ceremony. Although Mooney (1896, 768, 772–74) heard stories of Wovoka’s powers and prophecies from others who knew him, he felt that the prophet was holding something back from him and downplaying the Ghost Dance in the wake of the Wounded Knee massacre of December 29, 1890. Mooney’s investigation into the Ghost Dance had begun on December 22, 1890, when he departed Washington DC by train to Oklahoma Territory to inquire about Cheyenne and Arapaho involvement in the movement (DeMallie 1991, xvi). He noted that rumors of the Ghost Dance prophecy reached the Darlington Agency in the winter of 1889– 90, compelling the Southern Arapahos to send two delegates, Black Coyote and Washee, to the Wind River Reservation, home of the Wind River Shoshones and Northern Arapahos. Upon arrival they learned about Wovoka, the new “Christ,” from a recently returned delegation of Sioux, Northern Cheyennes, and Arapahos, including Sitting Bull, who became the well-known Northern Arapaho Ghost Dance proselytizer. Black Coyote learned the Ghost Dance rite and brought it back to the Darlington Agency in April 1890. Compared to their Arapaho allies, the Cheyennes were skeptical of the new religion and demanded tangible proof of Wovoka’s powers, so, in August 1890, a twelve-man Southern Cheyenne–Arapaho delegation accompanied Black Coyote back to Mason Valley. Among the Cheyenne delegates were Tall Bull and Black Sharp Nose, who reported favorably on the Ghost Dance upon their return (Mooney 1896, 780–81; see Andersson 2008, 306–8). In September Sitting Bull visited the Cheyennes and Arapahos at the Darlington Agency, where he found interest in 90 THE GHOST DANCE

the Ghost Dance gaining momentum (Mooney 1896, 774–76, 894– 95; Berthrong 1976, 138–39, 215). By the time Sitting Bull reached Darlington, Cheyennes and Arapahos were conducting two or three dusk-to-dawn dances a week and had abandoned their Sun Dance festivities that summer due to the Ghost Dance fervor; they would not perform the Sun Dance again until 1903 (Berthrong 1976, 293). Mooney (1896, 895) reported that Sitting Bull’s presence created great excitement since he was perceived as “the great apostle of the Ghost dance [by] the southern tribes, being regarded almost in the same light as the messiah himself.” The Cheyenne-Arapaho ceremony held that September two miles south of the agency on the South Canadian River, the largest Ghost Dance ever in Oklahoma Territory, attracted over three thousand participants, including Caddo, Wichita, and Kiowa guests. Performances of the Ghost Dance lasted for two weeks, with instructions communicated primarily through Plains sign language. Acting as a trance medium, Sitting Bull put over a hundred participants into trances during the two-week period in which the duskto-dawn ceremony occurred. While the circle of men, women, and children holding hands with locked fingers shuffled clockwise in rhythm to chanted Ghost Dance songs without instrumental accompaniment, Sitting Bull, wearing a wide-brimmed hat with a single eagle feather affixed to the top—symbols introduced by Wovoka—entered the dance circle, stepped up to a young woman, made “hypnotic passes before her face with the eagle feather,” and induced a “rigid” state leading to unconsciousness before she slumped to the ground. In sequence other women, followed by older women, then men, were likewise hypnotized by Sitting Bull, who announced that those in trances “were now beholding happy visions of the spirit world, how they had met and talked with their departed friends and joined in their oldtime amusements.” Upon awakening, the trance dreamers “embodied their visions in songs, which were sung that night and afterward in the dance,” becoming part of the repertoire of Ghost Dance songs that spread from camp to camp (Mooney 1896, 895– 99, 923–25). Mooney witnessed his first Cheyenne-Arapaho Ghost Dance at the Darlington Agency in January 1891 (Moses 1984, 53–54). By this time preparations for the dance involved consecrating the dance ground with THE GHOST DANCE 91

a special powder while the Ghost Dance leader, or hypnotist, prayed. If the dance was being introduced into an encampment for the first time, a “giving the feather” ceremony was conducted, wherein seven men— and often seven women as well—were each presented an eagle feather or two crow feathers which they affixed to their scalp locks. In return the “apostle,” or giver of the dance, was bestowed with gifts, including blankets and ponies. The recipients of the feathers were free to create new songs to accompany those they learned from the apostle. Dancers also wore crow feathers in their dance costumes, and some even wore magpie feathers in the Paiute style. As in former days dancers painted their faces and bodies before the dance, this time with Ghost Dance designs inspired by their trance visions: suns, moons, stars, crosses, and birds painted with red, blue, green, and yellow pigments. Mooney (1896, 918–20) learned that such facial designs were meant to “sharpen” their spiritual journeys and for their general well-being. Years later LaBarre learned from Heap O’ Bears that Kiowa adaptations of Ghost Dance motifs were derived from designs formerly painted on war shields and on the Gudlgut dancers of the Sun Dance proper; analogous to the old days of warfare, the suns symbolized invulnerability.2 As observed by Mooney, the Ghost Dance ceremony began when seven (or fourteen) dance leaders formed a small circle on the dance ground, facing inward and holding hands. From this position they sang the ceremonial Opening Song “in a soft undertone”; after finishing the first rendition they repeated it at “full strength” while shuffling clockwise around the circle. Upon hearing the amplified singing, the rest of the dancers emerged from their tipis in the encampment and joined the dance circle. Mooney estimated that the average dance attracted fifty to five hundred participants, including wobbly toddlers and feeble elders. (LaBarre noted that Lakota dances featured dancing around a tree or pole, an element absent in the Southern Plains, except among the Kiowas.)3 As the dance gained momentum, some dancers entered into trances and fell to the ground; other participants sat down to smoke and visit while their comrades trekked to the spirit world, where they observed old-time activities like buffalo hunting or chatted with deceased spouses and children. Oftentimes the dance leaders came by to interpret what was happening or to “deliver short addresses or 92 THE GHOST DANCE

sermons.” Trances normally lasted from ten to twenty minutes to several hours, and when the spiritual sojourners awoke, they related their stories to attentive audiences. Individuals receiving such visions often created songs symbolizing their journey to the spirit world, adding to the repertoire of Ghost Dance songs. In addition, as more people entered into trances and interacted with departed relatives, old-time games like the Hand Game became popular, and “gaming wheels, shinny sticks, hummers, and other toys” were brought into the dance circle so that “the dance sometimes took on the appearance of an exhibition of Indian curios on a small scale.” Trances and the revival of “traditional” activities therefore became salient features of the Ghost Dance; Mooney (1896, 920–23) believed that hypnotism with the dance leader’s eagle feather was the secret to the trance. Dances usually concluded in the early morning hours when the dancers “shook their blankets or shawls in the air, with the idea of driving away all evil influences.” Afterward they trekked to the nearest river or stream, where the men and women bathed separately, an act Mooney described as conforming to a universal belief needing no further explanation. Another consecration rite, a ritualistic body rub, featured the “peculiar ceremonies of prayer and invocation, with the laying on of hands and the stroking of the face and body,” a blessing administered by Ghost Dance leaders to their followers. In 1893, when Mooney visited the Caddo-Delaware John Wilson, or Moon Head, at his Sugar Creek encampment, the Ghost Dance priest and Peyotist “performed mystic passes in front of my face with his hands . . . blowing upon me the while . . . to blow evil things away from me.” Moon Head placed his hand on Mooney’s forehead, prayed, then, starting at the shoulder, rubbed his chest and the length of his arm, stopped and held his hand, then released his grip with “a graceful upward sweep,” a time-consuming ritual also used as a greeting among Ghost Dance devotees (Mooney 1896, 921, 905). Mooney noted that the Cheyenne and Arapaho Ghost Dance was preceded by the auxiliary Crow Dance, which he likened to the “Omaha” dance, a popular war dance. Afternoon performances were highlighted by singers laying down a rhythm on an “immense drum,” singing songs that described crows and the messiah, while men adorned in dance bustles of “vari-colored feathers” danced, as did women. According to THE GHOST DANCE 93

the vision that inspired the dance, the crows symbolized the “spirits of departed friends.” Dance choreography constantly evolved due to the large number of young men who participated in the increasingly popular dance, which uniquely featured hypnotism and trance visions, which spread to other Plains tribes (Mooney 1896, 921–22). In chapter 10 of his Ghost Dance monograph, Mooney (1896, 777–87) presented Wovoka’s Ghost Dance doctrine. Accordingly deceased ancestors were risen from the dead and waiting at the edge of the world for the “spirit captain” to lead them back to earth, and although the time of their return was unspecified, their arrival would be marked by “a trembling of the earth.” The Cheyennes, Arapahos, and Kiowas believed that the “resurrected dead,” including the spirits of Indians and game animals such as elk and bison, would come from the west. As the spirit horde slid eastward and reached Oklahoma Territory, Indians wearing the sacred dance feathers and performing the Ghost Dance were to be lifted up into the sky; after waking from a four-day trance, they would be with their people on a “new earth,” “in the midst of their oldtime surroundings.” Those participating in the dance would also be protected from illness (Mooney 1896, 782, 786). In his study of the 1870 and 1890 Ghost Dances among the Northern Paiutes (Bannocks) and Shoshones, Smoak (2006, 57) explains that shamanism “provided the internal logic for the prophetic religions of the nineteenth century, including both Ghost Dances.” The same is true for the Cheyennes, Arapahos, Kiowas, and other Southern Plains tribes. The basic Ghost Dance doctrine was introduced to Kiowas, Caddos, Wichitas, and Delawares who visited the Darlington Agency in June 1890. Shortly afterward members of these tribes were performing the dance (Scott 1928, 152). As with the approximately thirty tribes adopting the Ghost Dance, the doctrine was interpreted differently, according to culturally specific values (Andersson 2008, 28; Smoak 2006, 167–68). For some Peyote served as a proselytizing agent leading them to the religion; this happened to Frank White, a Pawnee who adopted the religion and took it back to his people after visiting the Comanches and Wichitas in 1891 (Lesser 1933, 60). With the exception of the Penatekas, the Comanches shrugged off the Ghost Dance when it came to Oklahoma Territory in the summer of 1890 because they were heavily involved in the Peyote 94 THE GHOST DANCE

religion. The few Comanche Ghost Dances that occurred involved Peyote use.4 Likewise Moon Head, the famed Caddo-Delaware Peyotist, was also a Ghost Dance leader among his people (Mooney 1896, 901–5). In his seminal article “The Peyote Religion and the Ghost Dance,” Omer Stewart (1972, 28–29) listed nineteen tribes in Oklahoma Territory whose members were using Peyote when the Ghost Dance arrived. He aptly noted that Peyote use preceded the Ghost Dance and, in certain instances, was incorporated into the movement. Among the twenty or so delegates who visited the Darlington Agency in June 1890 was the Kiowa Pa′tadal (Poor Buffalo), who returned to Anadarko with the dance and the red paint when the Kiowas and Plains Apaches congregated at the agency for a grass payment. Following his arrival, a Ghost Dance was held near the agency after he helped paint the dancers, although there was no specific design (Mooney 1896, 907–8). Jimmy Quoetone recalled these events.5 According to Mooney (1896, 791), Kiowas called the dance Mânposo′ ti guan, “dance with clasped hands,” and the “frenzy” of the trance state was guan â′ dalka-i, “dance craziness.” Jimmy Quoetone referred to the dance as monposó·de, “holding hands.”6 Stationed at Fort Sill since 1888, Lt. Hugh Lenox Scott (1928, 146) recalled years later that during the summer of 1890 rumors abounded of “a white man out on the Staked Plains of Texas, with long fair hair and beard, who might show you your dead relatives, and who bore on his hands the scars of crucifixion.” As among the Lakotas, Northern Paiutes, and Shoshones, the Kiowa Ghost Dance doctrine was a mixture of indigenous and Christian beliefs, with a millennial twist and rumors of a messiah (Smoak 2006, 80, 131, 154; Andersson 2008, 29, 40, 165, 176). Jimmy Quoetone recalled that shortly after the gathering in Anadarko, another Ghost Dance transpired at a large camp near Saddle Mountain, where many Kiowas rapidly converted despite a handful who wished to further investigate the new earth prophecies before making any commitments.7 Among the disbelievers was Ä′piatañ, who—like many KCA Indians in the 1890s—had recently lost a child to illness, so he challenged the new religion to produce a reunion with his deceased child. Supported by a council of chiefs as Kiowa tribal delegate, Ä′piatañ was financed to investigate the Ghost Dance religion. In September 1890 he and High THE GHOST DANCE 95

Wolf, a Lakota friend, departed north to Pine Ridge Reservation, then journeyed west to visit Wovoka, the Indian messiah (Mooney 1896, 908– 9).8 That not everyone bought into the Ghost Dance doctrine is evident in Andersson’s (2008, 76, table 1) study showing that only 28 percent of Lakotas in the Dakotas participated in the dance. Approximately a month after the departure of Ä′piatañ, Sitting Bull came to the KCA Reservation and established an encampment near the confluence of Rainy Mountain Creek and the Washita River, northeast of present-day Mountain View, as recalled by Jimmy Quoetone and Old Man Apekaum.9 A Ghost Dance staged at this location in October 1890 was the largest ever among the Kiowas, and even old chief Stumbling Bear attended to show his support (Mooney 1898, 360). During the dance Sitting Bull presented feathers to seven men and seven women, designating them Ghost Dance priests. The new dance leaders were taught the Arapaho Opening Song and other Ghost Dance songs until the Kiowas created their own songs. Mooney (1896, 958) translated the Opening Song: O, my children! Oh, my children! Here is another of your pipes—He′eye′! Here is another of your pipes—He′eye′! Look! Thus I shouted—He′eye′! Look! Thus I shouted—He′eye′! When I moved the earth—He′eye′! When I moved the earth—He′eye′! In the opening verse the messiah addresses his children, the followers of the Ghost Dance religion; the second line, repeated, refers to the Northern Arapaho Sacred Flat Pipe (see Fowler 1982; Fowler 2001, 843). The final two verses refer to the excitement to be generated by the earthquake proclaiming the return of the spirit horde. Of all the Ghost Dance songs created in Oklahoma Territory, Mooney (1896, 958–59) felt the Arapaho songs were the most pleasing and most popular. In early January 1891 Lieutenant Scott provided verbatim translations of five Arapaho songs that Sitting Bull gave new converts, noting, “After the tribe has been ‘given the feather,’ it makes some songs for itself, a few each.” Then he provided the translation for a Kiowa song: 96 THE GHOST DANCE

An sun giat alto An sun giat alto Cut off a buffalo’s head and feet. Ande tem got alto Ande tem got alto And throw them away One mage Ane magu And he will rise again “In this new world the Indian can kill the buffalo, get what meat he needs and the buffalo will still live, and can never be exterminated, as in this world.”10 Old Man Apekaum participated in the 1890 Rainy Mountain Creek Ghost Dance and recalled that the encampment comprised numerous Kiowas, Comanches, Plains Apaches, Cheyennes, and Arapahos. Standing in the middle of the dance circle, Sitting Bull—recipient of over one hundred gift horses—announced, “[The] old world is passing away a new earth is coming on, on top of this new world are our dead.” Rumors circulated throughout the camp that anyone inviting Sitting Bull to a feast would be the first to see his or her relatives, which created a “wild scramble” to get to the Northern Arapaho prophet.11 Jimmy Quoetone also participated in the Rainy Mountain Creek dance. When he arrived the dance was already in progress, so he joined the dance circle as there were no formalities about entering. He recollected seeing two women in trances lying inside the ring of dancers. Sitting Bull was giving a sermon to the assembled people: “The people who have died in the past are coming back. They are traveling in this direction from the north. I know this because I met my dead uncle coming back with the dead. When I met my dead uncle I went hunting with him. We killed and butchered a buffalo, leaving the head and legs behind. The buffalo came to life again because we left the head and eyes.”12 Jimmy Quoetone also remembered dancing on this occasion and that he was knocked to the ground after Sitting Bull motioned toward him with a tall white hat (similar to the one Wovoka wore). After regaining consciousness, he was unable to stand up. Struggling to his feet, someone (or something) took his hands and held them up in front of him and then THE GHOST DANCE 97

started them swinging. The next thing he realized, his eyes were “fixed on the sun,” and he began running inside the circle of dancers with his arms swinging wildly. Realizing that he was “conscious but not normal,” Quoetone saw other dancers running around “doing the same thing . . . crying ‘hu-hu-hu.’” While dancing in this frenzied state, he wondered when the spirits would return to earth, then, looking into the sky, something struck him without warning, causing him to spin around. In the southwest part of the dance circle Quoetone espied a tipi with the sides rolled up, occupied by Sitting Bull, wearing the white hat. As he made his way through the ring of dancers to investigate the tipi, an assistant came out, picked some weeds, rolled them into a ball, and hurled them toward the dance circle, spinning Quoetone back around, compelling him to rejoin the dancers. By this time only Quoetone and the others in trances were still dancing, all of them staring at the sun. He claimed that some power held his head in that position and that the sun seemed to be “veiled” instead of bright. Something then spun him around so he faced north. Collier summarized Quoetone’s experience: He saw something resembling a bright cloud on the horizon. Something told him that this was the spirit bringing back the dead. Something came out of the cloud and fell on one of the dancers. This happened several times. Each time he would go over expecting to find the spirit but [it] always turned out to be a feather or some paint or other part of the costume. The dancing circle seemed vast to K [Quoetone]; there appeared to be thousands of people—as far as the eye could see. Here and there were figures lit up by some brightness. He went close to one of these figures to see if it was the spirit he was looking for. It was S[itting] B[ull]. He went to another; this was a living person whom he knew also. He went to several others and they were the ten medicine keepers. One of them spoke to K and told him to do his best. When he recognized these shining people their brightness disappeared. The bright cloud in the north seemed to be getting closer and closer. It began to get dark and all the dancers [sat down] except K and seven others (men and young women) who were in trances. Two of the young women sang songs that had been revealed to them. Then one of the men (tangudl [Tanguadal, Red Bonnet, or Red Warbonnet]) gave four 98 THE GHOST DANCE

yells like S[itting] B[ull]. The fourth he held a long time until it traveled and hit the cloud (like an echo). Everyone was knocked down. K had a vision. He heard the sound of many dragging tipi poles and the voices of a multitude of people coming from the east. He saw the spirit he was looking for lying down. He went over to it; it had on Arapaho moccasins and was covered from head to foot with a red blanket. The multitude seemed almost upon them. K and the others jumped up. K asked tangudl what he had seen and heard. He answered that the yell had reached and met the coming party of the dead. The others said the same; had also heard the sound of the multitude approaching. (One woman had not had the vision.) All the people in the camp were watching them. K kneeled facing eastward with his hands palm down on the ground. Upon doing this he came out of the trance and was normal. He told the others to do the same and they also recovered.13 Quoetone’s experiences in the dance circle matched those of an Arapaho Mooney (1896, 923) interviewed who said that the “spirit” leading the horde was usually within his grasp but always turned out to be another dancer bumping into him. It is also noteworthy that several Ten Medicines keepers participated in the dance. Finally coming out of the trance, Quoetone recounted his vision to the rest of the people, who were “greatly impressed by what had taken place.” The following day single eagle feathers were presented to seven men and seven women, and by this time Quoetone firmly believed in the new religion. Afterward he entered into trances whenever he heard Ghost Dance songs, a power that was contagious because people around him also went into trances. Quoetone, however, was never able to locate the spirit leading the resurrected multitude back to earth, even though the power behind the trances forced him to gaze constantly into the sky. It was only a matter of time before he quit the Ghost Dance religion and stopped attending dances.14 Bi′äñk‛i (Eater) was one of the Kiowa prophets rising into prominence shortly after the Rainy Mountain Creek Ghost Dance. Formerly a shaman who sojourned into the mountains to pray for the sick or to obtain messages from beyond, Bi′äñk‛i changed his name to Äsa′tito′la (The THE GHOST DANCE 99

Messenger) after making a transcendent journey to the spirit world to encounter several deceased relatives in a land teaming with bison. Following a trail across the prairie, Bi′äñk‛i came to a Kiowa camp distinguished by heraldic tipi designs. Entering the village, he met and spoke with some men and women who had been dead for several years, and they presented him with old-time foods, like fresh buffalo meat and wild plums. Farther into the village Bi′äñk‛i witnessed a performance of the Ghost Dance around a cedar tree, then he saw the distinctive red tipi belonging to Set’aide (White Bear)—who died in 1878—where he spoke with a woman who informed him where to find his family tipi. When he located it, several deceased family members beckoned him to enter and eat buffalo meat simmering in a pot over the fire. When he bent over to smell the pleasant fumes, Bi′äñk‛i awoke on the mountaintop where he was fasting and praying. Afterward he recorded his vision on paper using an ideographic writing system and also drew a picture of it for Mooney (1896, 909–11). Following the Rainy Mountain Creek Ghost Dance, the majority of the Kiowas took great interest in the Ghost Dances held in the different Indian camps on the KCA and Wichita-Delaware- Caddo (WCD) reservations. Between early December 1890 and late January 1891, Lieutenant Scott and detachments of the Seventh Cavalry from Fort Sill reconnoitered several Ghost Dance camps, including a Caddo encampment on Buggy Creek, a tributary of the Canadian River about thirty-five miles northeast of Anadarko, near the present-day town of Minco; approximately forty lodges of Kiowas camped at the mouth of Rainy Mountain Creek east of modern Mountain View; a Wichita encampment on Sugar Creek about fifteen miles northwest of Anadarko; and a Wichita and Caddo camp on Keechi Creek, which feeds into Sugar Creek near contemporary Gracemont. In early December, Scott visited the Buggy Creek encampment, which included about two hundred Caddos and Delawares and a handful of Shawnees, Arapahos, Wichitas, and Kiowas. Observing a dance in progress, he estimated approximately 180 dancers forming the outer circle “and 30 on the inside.” Afterward the detachment traveled west to the mouth of Rainy Mountain Creek, where the “dance ceased for the time being” the next day. Apparently Agent Adams had broken up a dance at this location in early November. In early January 1891 Scott claimed 100 THE GHOST DANCE

that Sitting Bull was planning to attend a dance at Sugar Creek to “give the feather” to the Wichitas, and by January 11 it was reported that “the Wichitas have just commenced and are dancing night and day.” Toward the end of the month Sitting Bull allegedly planned to stage a dance at the Caddo and Wichita camp on Keechi Creek, as well as one near Leepers Lane, on the Washita River about six miles above Anadarko. Subsequently the Caddo headmen planned a dance on Sugar Creek. Feeling empowered by the new doctrine, several Caddo men claimed “to have supernatural powers in healing diseases, finding stolen property, and foretelling events.” By this time the Wichitas, new proselytes, were firm believers in the dance. On February 10 Scott reported that the Caddos and Wichitas at Keechi Creek had been dancing for the past twenty days, “sometimes from about 4 P.M. until about 8.30 A.M., at times they would commence about dark and stop about 11 P.M.” Sitting Bull and around twenty young Arapaho men were at the encampment when Scott arrived.15 Although Scott believed that the Caddos, Delawares, and Kiowas were “the most earnest believers in the coming of the Messiah,” some Kiowas were skeptical, including Christians, and Ä′piatañ, who spent part of the winter of 1890–91 journeying to Nevada to visit Wovoka. Ä′piatañ had expected an “omniscient” messiah and was surprised when Wovoka needed an interpreter to converse with him. Moreover when the messiah could not resurrect his child or any other deceased persons, he became discouraged and decided that the prophet was not what people claimed him to be. Ä′piatañ had expected to see Wovoka, “the veritable Christ,” bearing the “scars of the crucifixion” on his hands and feet. Instead the absence of stigmata convinced Ä′piatañ that Wovoka was not the great messiah he had anticipated. Ä′piatañ was finally convinced that the messiah was a phony when Wovoka requested that he return to his people and tell them to quit dancing (Mooney 1896, 913). En route to the Oklahoma Territory, Ä′piatañ stopped at Fort Hall, Idaho, to dispatch a letter—written on his behalf by an interpreter—to his sister Laura Dunmoe (later Pedrick) to be read to the Indians at the Anadarko Agency, where Mooney was visiting when it arrived in January 1891. After it was read to an assembled crowd, many said they would wait for Ä′piatañ to return before making any decisions about the dance. According to Lieutenant Scott, many Kiowas looked “upon the letter THE GHOST DANCE 101

with some suspicion, as it came through two white men, and say they reserve judgement until ‘A-pia-tom’ himself comes.” Some claimed they would “put aside the doctrine of a new earth, coming of the return of the buffalo, of the coming of the Messiah, who is now on earth, and of the immediate resurrection of the dead.” Nevertheless they claimed to “like the dance part of it, and wish to retain that to worship the ‘Christ,’ who is in heaven, in that way, and to pray to him for what they need.”16 Anadarko was a scene of excitement when Ä′piatañ returned in mid-February to report about his visit with the messiah. Agent Adams promptly summoned all the leaders representing the tribes serviced by the agency and extended the invitation to Sitting Bull and his entourage. Held on February 19, the council was attended by Mooney and Rev. J. J. Methvin; both wrote accounts of the proceedings (Mooney 1896, 911, 913– 14; Methvin n.d.a, 76–77). Given the multitude of tribes represented at the council, interpretation consumed a good part of the day. “Everything said was interpreted in turn into English, Kiowa, Comanche, Caddo, Wichita, and Arapaho” (Mooney 1896, 913). Mooney (1896, 913) aptly reported that Sitting Bull and his religion were on trial that winter day and that the future for the Kiowas and their allies seemed uncertain: “The scene was dramatic in the highest degree. Although in a certain sense Sitting Bull himself was on trial, it meant more than that to the assembled tribes. Their power, prosperity, and happiness had gone down, their very race was withering away before the white man. The messiah doctrine promised a restoration of the old conditions through supernatural assistance. If this hope was without foundation, the Indian had no future and his day was forever past.” Old Man Apekaum said that when Ä′piatañ addressed those assembled in Anadarko, he described Wovoka as an ordinary Indian whose teachings were a “big lie.”17 Turning to Sitting Bull, he proclaimed that the Arapaho’s hoax allowed him to profit from Kiowa ponies and goods. Following the interpretation of the allegations into the different languages, Sitting Bull defended himself, but to no avail. Mooney felt pity for Sitting Bull as he wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and quietly left with his Arapaho followers for the Caddo villages north of the agency (Mooney 1896, 914; Methvin n.d.a, 76–77). Although Lieutenant Scott arrived too late to witness the proceedings, he visited with Ä′pia102 THE GHOST DANCE

tañ and Sitting Bull the next day and learned that Wovoka had informed Ä′piatañ that indeed he “was the only Jesus,” but that Sitting Bull and other delegates “had gotten things twisted after leaving him”; moreover “the Sioux especially had gone wrong and a great many people had been killed in consequence.” Hence he advised Ä′piatañ to “tell his people to stop that dance or it might lead them into trouble also.”18 Realizing that the old lifeways could not be revived, many of the new converts broke down and cried, a scene later described by Andrew Stumbling Bear as the “biggest disappointment that could come to any people.”19 Even Methvin (n.d.a, 77), the vehement adversary of most Native customs, was also moved by the outcome of the council: “The Indians at large presented a pathetic sight. They seemed stupefied for the time. They were disappointed and depressed. Their last hope for deliverance from the white man’s rule and for the return of the buffalo and the return of the old days of rambling freedom was gone, and they turned away from the scene in silence.” Scott, however, noted that even though Ä′piatañ’s report “brought great disappointment to many,” some Kiowas gave him “the cold shoulder in consequence.”20 Mooney (1896, 914) observed that the Caddos, Wichitas, and Plains Apaches continued the dance in spite of Ä′piatañ’s report, for they doubted its authenticity. Mooney also wrote that although members of other tribes in southwestern Oklahoma Territory became disillusioned with the Ghost Dance, it was reputedly continued solely for amusing children. Scott (1928, 152–53) offered a different opinion years later, when he wrote, “The Kiowa did not give up their belief in the coming of the Messiah for some time, and the excitement among the Caddo, Wichita, Delaware, Southern Cheyenne, and Arapaho, continued unabated”; afterward he visited the Wichita, Delaware, and Caddo encampment on Sugar Creek, where Sitting Bull had taken refuge. The Revived Ghost Dance Mooney’s (1896, 914) seminal Ghost Dance monograph was in press when he added a brief addendum noting the Kiowa dance had been revived by Pa′tadal and Bi′äñk‛i. Methvin’s (n.d.a, 77) account concurs. In the summer of 1893 Pá-iñgya, the fallen leader of the Sons of the Sun, proclaimed the Ghost Dance fulfilled his 1887 prophecy and sponsored a THE GHOST DANCE 103

Ghost Dance at Walnut Creek, where he unsuccessfully attempted to resurrect the deceased son of Pa-guadal (Red Buffalo) (Mooney 1898, 357; Mooney 1896, 1083). LaBarre noted that Pá-iñgya claimed to have seen fresh footprints on the grave of his recently deceased son but failed to emerge as a Ghost Dance prophet since he had lost his following.21 Other attempts to perform the dance were thwarted by Agent Maury Nichols, who finally acquiesced and stopped hindering the Ghost Dance, whose leaders conducted a dance in September 1894 along the banks of the Washita—probably at the still remembered Ghost Dance encampment northeast of Mountain View—which attracted “several thousand Indians from all the surrounding tribes” (Mooney 1896, 914; see Methvin n.d.a, 77). Old Man Apekaum identified five Ghost Dance leaders who “claimed they could go to heaven and see [the] dead”: Setapetoi, or Setapeto (Afraid of the Bear, or Afraid-of-Bears); Tene/bɔde, or Tenebati (Bird Appearing); Tenétende or Tenetendi (Eagle Heart); Kohįt’ąi, or Koitai (White Buffalo); and Pagudl, or Paguadalti (Red Buffalo). The new Ghost Dance prophets often brought back news from deceased ancestors prophesied to return to earth. Afraid-of-Bears, who emerged as the principal leader, gathered his followers for large dances “west of Carnegie” (the Big Bend of the Washita River west of Carnegie and northeast of Mountain View), and branch congregations met in various locations: one met east of Fort Cobb (near Redstone) led by White Fox, a “singing leader”; another formed in Alden, ten miles south of Carnegie; a fourth Ghost Dance group assembled on Sugar Creek, west of Saddle Mountain near present-day Cooperton; and a Plains Apache congregation formed west of modern-day Apache. Apekaum also reported that there was a Comanche Ghost Dance group.22 Tsoodle claimed that Afraid-of-Bears was motivated to resurrect deceased ancestors, including a niece. Discarding the Arapaho songs in favor of his own, Afraid-of-Bears believed that if the Kiowas sang and danced in earnest, the spirits would descend from above. While performing the shuffle-step circle dance, Afraid-of-Bears—who was blind—went into a trance. After gaining consciousness, he brought back messages from the dead: “I saw your relatives and they were so anxious to see you soon.” Tsoodle, a disbeliever, told LaBarre that Afraid-of-Bears did his best to keep the Ghost Dance alive through trance-derived prophecies 104 THE GHOST DANCE

about reuniting the dead with the living. Notably absent, however, were prophecies of reappearing buffalo and eliminating the Anglo population. Trances leading to prophecies of departed souls returning to earth—a form of mimesis—emerged as the salient feature of the revived Ghost Dance led by Afraid-of-Bears.23 Following the success of the September 1894 ceremony, different congregations held Ghost Dance meetings on Saturday and Sunday nights, according to Old Man Apekaum.24 Tsoodle observed that on Sundays daylong meetings featured singing “just like a regular church meeting.”25 David Paddlety, who interpreted for Apekaum, remembered that Ghost Dance celebrants wore single eagle feathers in their scalp locks on which were painted a green cross outlined by a red or yellow cross. They were adorned in buckskin shirts decorated with blue-green suns outlined in yellow or with a similarly painted moon. Stars were painted above the breast. Participants also had “a design of four crosses painted on the face: one in the middle of the forehead, at the root of the nose, one on each check diagonally, and one on the chin, all in red or yellow.”26 Solar and lunar motifs were undoubtedly still popular, as were eagle feathers, desired for their power in ascending to the spirit world. The crosses either reflected the four cardinal directions, the Christian crucifix, or both. Perhaps analogous to the Shoshones and Bannocks, Christian symbols like the crucifix represented the “incorporation of new and powerful Christian doctrines” into the dance (Smoak 2006, 154). According to Maurice Boyd (1981, 93) in Kiowa Voices, Afraid- of-Bears distributed ten eagle feathers to dance leaders to retain the sacred number of the Ten Medicines. Akin to the Ghost Dance that resulted from Wovoka’s teachings, the Kiowa version featured a “mixture of traditional Indian beliefs and customs added to teachings from Christianity” (Andersson 2008, 29). Old Man Apekaum specified that typical weekend meetings were held in a “big tipi with [a] highboard fence around it.” Inside, on the west side, stood a wooden cross, with a small hole below it where cedar incense, a small bell, and deer hoof rattles were placed. During summer meetings only a small fire was kindled in the cedar incense hole. Tipi meetings consisted of celebrants sitting in a circle singing Ghost Dance songs and praying, while some stood up and danced in place.27 Tsoodle provided some details about the meetings. First, he pointed out that they never THE GHOST DANCE 105

danced in a circle like the larger, outside dances. Sunday meetings began in the morning with a prayer accompanying the sprinkling of cedar incense in the small fire, followed by the Opening Song, another prayer, and then Ghost Dance songs. Once the music reached its fullest intensity, as many as seven worshipers stood and danced in place, and in between song sets a pipe circulated clockwise that was smoked only by the men. Shortly before a noon food break, the Quitting Song was sung, then afternoon singing commenced with the Opening Song and continued until the Quitting Song marked the end of the ceremony.28 Apekaum said that shorter, nighttime meetings began with seven Ghost Dance songs, a ritual smoke, then three more sets of seven songs interspersed by ritual smokes. Whenever the music stopped, someone always got up to pray, and by the time the four song sets totaling twenty-eight Ghost Dance songs were performed, it was late at night and time to quit.29 Tsoodle noted that in both types of meetings, participants entering trance states fell backward, their bodies shaking; “others would join [them] and fall back (epilepsy) [and] make a groaning noise hm! and ų’ų’ų’ noise. Others got excited over it.”30 Tsoodle and Old Man Apekaum both mentioned that large, outdoor biannual dances were held at Afraid-of-Bear’s encampment close to the Fourth of July and New Year’s.31 Tsoodle described how men and women danced in a large circle in the clockwise shuffle-step pattern, accompanied by the leader. Those who “got [the] spirit, like holiness people, pass[ed] out inside [the] circle.” At the Fourth of July dance, feathers and other regalia were renewed.32 Apekaum described Afraid-of-Bears sitting in the center of the circle, by a cross, with a handkerchief on the ground in front of him, on which people placed $200 to $300 during the course of the dance. Dancing began in the morning, followed by a large feast at noon, then more afternoon dancing; those succumbing to trances were carried into a ceremonial tipi, and when Afraid-of-Bears yelled “It’s coming on,” two men helped him into the tipi, where he went “to heaven in [a] trance.” At one particular dance David Paddlety saw an individual come out of a trance telling everyone he had seen dead relatives, causing some to scream.33 Several missionaries witnessed the revived Ghost Dance. On December 13, 1893, Lou Hall, a teacher at Methvin Institute in Anadarko, traveled to 106 THE GHOST DANCE

Fig. 6. Altar at west end of Ghost Dance tipi, ca. 1894–1916. Underneath the wooden cross at the far west was a hole where cedar incense was burned. The significance of the four crosses is unknown, but they may represent the four cardinal directions. Drawing by Scott Kracht based on a sketch by Weston LaBarre, from “Kiowa fieldnotes, Spiral Notebook #3,” National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

the Ghost Dance near the Redstone community with Andres Martinez, his wife, Emma, Little Hattie McKenzie, and a young Indian girl. Before arriving at the encampment, Martinez warned the girl not to laugh when she saw “their great long feathers sticking out from their heads with their faces painted so many colors” (Moore 1945, 120). Hall’s firsthand account adds some detail to the weekend meetings: We found the camp near the river in a beautiful location. As we rode up we could hear them singing, Indian style. Quite a number of children were playing out around the tepee in which were the old Indians. . . . We stood and listened to them sing a few minutes, then we heard them praying. After they had finished praying we went in. The tepee was about twenty feet in diameter and all around on the inside were sticks and leaves with blankets thrown over them. These are the beds and chairs. They were sitting down all around, and out in THE GHOST DANCE 107

a little more conspicuous place, nearer the middle of the tepee, was seated “The Big Medicine Man,” the leader, with the long feather in his hair, with four other leaders, all painted, dressed in Indian style, with long flowing hair. There were thirty-eight Kiowa Indians inside the tepee, and it all closed up except for a small opening at the top. After having stayed inside such a close place for about two hours we knew how to appreciate the fresh air again. The Indians were making such a noise. . . . The leaders sat smoking for a few minutes after we went in. They had one pipe in common, with a stone about eighteen inches in length. Each of the leaders took about three draws, then passed the pipe to the one on his right. They continued this until all the tobacco was gone. No one smoked except the leaders. Then they asked Mr. Andres to lead in prayer. He turned to us and said, “Let’s pray with all our might.” Then he lead [sic], after which they sang prayed and talked. The leaders had deer hoofs and little bells fastened to a beaver skin with buckskin strings. These made quite a good deal of music. All keep perfect time, measuring it with their bodies. The singing is quite different to ours. They rarely ever use words. They go at it quite enthusiastically and even when they have no words all make the same sound and carry all parts unconsciously, and there is not a single discord. One of the leaders had a stick about three feet long, split at the end, which he used for taking coals of fire from a hole in the middle of the tepee, which was the fireplace. He kept a bag of cedar in front of him, and he kept putting on the cedar and adding fresh coals, so as to keep the smoke continually going up. Then everyone who wished went up, held their hands over the smoke, then put their hands up to their faces and stroked back their hair. They did this three times, praying all the while. It is a kind of sacrifice. While they were resting a bit from their praying, singing, etc., the five leaders would smoke, beginning again as soon as they were through. Most of them were just as sincere as they could be, I think they were doing the very best they knew. I was especially struck with one old woman right near us. She would be singing away when she would stop and say, “Aho Doikee” (thank God). Then began again, and she looked like she felt it. 108 THE GHOST DANCE

A few minutes before we left one Indian man came in, all painted up and dressed as only Indians do, lit a cigarette, held it up, and while the smoke ascended prayed, the other saying “Aho Doikee.” Mr. Andres says the present Ghost Dance is quite a new worship, and is very different to the old Ghost Dance. Nearly all of them have heard something about Jesus, and believe him to be the savior of men. They cannot read for themselves. They have always been used to superstitious ideas, and so, since the Holy Spirit is at work in their hearts and they cannot read to know the real truth, they get it all mixed. They understand that Jesus will come to them in person instead of sending His Spirit. Mr. Andres says part of their prayers and talks are good and sensible, but they have it all mixed with their old idols. Yesterday while they were singing something about Jesus coming down to the earth, one old man got down and began patting the ground, saying “Come, Jesus.” The others were saying Aho Doikee, every few minutes. I think most of them are sincere and do the best they can. (Moore 1945, 120–23) Hall’s description of the Redstone meeting demonstrates the flexibility of the Ghost Dance doctrine in that the revived Kiowa ceremony was infused with Christian notions of the coming of the Messiah. In comparison, Lakotas at Pine Ridge Agency also integrated Christian notions into their Ghost Dance, as observed by Lt. Marion P. Maus in November 1890. He described the Lakota dance as “a version of Christianity that suited the Indians’ hopes and expectations” (cited in Andersson 2008, 222). In his analysis of the Lakota Ghost Dance, Raymond J. DeMallie (1982, 403) observes that the dance “was inextricably bound to the whole of Lakota culture and to ongoing historical processes in Lakota society. Although it was introduced from the outside, it was rapidly assimilated to the Lakota system of values and ideas, especially because it promised resolution to the grave problems that beset the people.” According to Smoak (2006, 198), nativistic movements at the end of the nineteenth century reflect an emergent identity that was meaningful to Native peoples: “The Ghost Dances were a prophetic expression of an American Indian identity that countered American attempts to assert a particular national identity and to impose that on American Indians.” Like the Shoshones’, Bannocks’, and Lakotas’, THE GHOST DANCE 109

the syncretisms in the Kiowa Ghost Dance reflect how Christian and indigenous concepts merged into a Native identity. Christian syncretisms in the revived Ghost Dance ceremony were also noted by the Baptist missionary Isabel Crawford, who lived among the Saddle Mountain Kiowas from 1896 to 1906. She observed her first Ghost Dance meeting on Sunday afternoon, April 26, 1896. Accompanied by the Christian convert Lucius Aitson and his family, Crawford rode seven miles west from Saddle Mountain to an arbor on Sugar Creek, where some Kiowas in “holiday attire” had congregated. Fulfilling her role as missionary, she preached to them about Jesus—Aitson interpreted using Kiowa sign language—while they listened attentively, and when she finished, four men swaddled in white sheets emerged from a large tipi. Each held her hand in turn and prayed: Oh, Great Spirit of Jesus, come to our hearts today. White people think we pray to another god but we do not. We heard the talk of this white woman while we sat worshiping in our council tepee, and we have come out to pray for her. Who made the sun? Who made these mountains? Who made this creek? Who made these trees and who brought the “leetle woman” [sic] over here? The Great God, our Father, that He may teach us more. She is your child. We are your children. We will call her no more white woman but sister. How can we show that we believe you sent her? By saying thank you, thank you, thank you to Jesus! We have spoken. (Crawford 1915, 25–26) Given the large numbers of Christian missionaries on the KCA Reservation by 1896, the Christian syncretisms in the prayers recorded by Hall and Crawford are not surprising. Crawford’s description of the four Ghost Dance priests attired in white sheets—possible baptism robes—suggests the adoption of priestly garb from the Christian churches they sometimes attended. Mooney (1896, 790) attributed the Ghost Dance shirts to the influence of the Mormons, and Smoak (2006, 131) found some parallels between Mormonism and the Ghost Dance doctrine, especially millena110 THE GHOST DANCE

rian prophecies. Kiowa ministers Rev. Charles “Nick” Quoetone and Rev. John Tsatoke suggested to me that the white robes were influenced by Father Isidore Ricklin, the Catholic priest in Anadarko.34 Reverend Tsatoke and Weiser Tongkeamha inferred that followers of the Ghost Dance were “confused” by rapid culture change and the introduction of Christianity, although they borrowed many of its teachings and references to God.35 During Crawford’s 1896 rendezvous with the Sugar Creek Ghost Dance faction, she was led into the large, twenty-two-pole Ghost Dance tipi, where she saw the “exquisitely artistic and scrupulously clean” interior and that the sitting area around the perimeter consisted of grass bundles tied with different colors of calico and covered by multicolored Indian blankets. Scattered about the blanket-covered seats were beaded-handle gourds and “primitive tom-toms” (hand drums); the floor in the middle of the tipi had been swept clean to the consistency of concrete; and to one of the tipi poles was attached a “great bunch of eagle feathers” ornamented with bead and quill work. In front of the seats were “carefully fashioned little wells for cuspidors about two inches deep and two wide.” Perhaps the spittoons were there for spit or vomit after participants ate the bittertasting Peyote buttons, suggesting Peyote use in Ghost Dance meetings. Given the warm April temperatures, there was no fire, only a small piece of charcoal smoldering in the center, directly underneath the smoke hole. Cedar sprinkled on the charcoal, accompanied by “weird singing” backed by the hand drums and gourd rattles, marked the beginning of the ceremony. Then the leaders asked Crawford to pray, and when she finished they added four prayers of their own “mingled with excessive weeping,” then led her outside the tipi (Crawford 1915, 26–27). Several days later Crawford attended a night meeting held in a “new Ghost Dance teepee” on Saddle Mountain Creek. Beginning at nine o’clock the first two hours of the ceremony featured Ghost Dance songs, praying, and smoking. Crawford (1915, 28) described the meeting: Then the blind medicine-man [Afraid-of-Bears] stood up and talked. When he was through a large woman, brilliantly painted and dressed, with quantities of black hair unbound, and rings and bracelets without number, arose and walking up to him, turned her back. Placing a hand on each shoulder he began gently swaying her from side to side, THE GHOST DANCE 111

the motion increasing to such terrible rapidity that I thought the poor creature would surely break off at the waist. With hair and arms flopping and eyes bulging out of her head, she finally fell, was lifted aside, and another victim took her place. Squirming, twisting, men and women jumped up suddenly and sat down again. Beating of tom-toms, shaking of gourds and the minor wailing of song increased in discord as each new enquirer went forward. All night this performance lasted, and in the morning after recovering their senses, each told of wonderful things seen, their dead children, the buffalo, Jesus, etc. “The Great Father talked to us Himself,” they said, “and told us He gave the Book to White People and taught them to read it, but He gave to the Indians the dance road and told us to hold on to it tight till He came back to earth with our dead and our buffalo.” Trances and visitations with deceased children appear to have been the primary objectives of the Ghost Dance ceremony observed by Crawford. In his examination of Native American historical demography, Russell Thornton (1987, 158) has suggested that population losses contributed to the rise of the 1890 Ghost Dance movement. Concerning the revived Kiowa Ghost Dance, Indian agent reports from the early 1890s support this hypothesis, for there were 386 deaths—mostly children—on the KCA Reservation between 1890 and 1892, mostly attributed to measles, whooping cough, and pneumonia.36 Mooney (1896, 924) observed that the trance states were growing more popular than the prophecy promising to return deceased ancestors, so perhaps the trances were designed to enable dream seekers to make the transcendent journey to the spirit world to visit deceased relatives, particularly children. Connecting deceased Kiowas with Jesus and God and the returning spirit multitude underscores the importance of miming the dead in the Ghost Dance meetings. Apparently some of the earlier Ghost Dance doctrines were extant, albeit in modified form, replete with Christian syncretisms. Crawford’s accounts also illustrate how the Kiowas were affected by historical processes in the late nineteenth century; Ghost Dancers in particular were bonded by mutual rejection of outside forces (missionization and allotment) and the desire to retain tribal customs (dancing 112 THE GHOST DANCE

and feasting). Most Kiowas were upset by the outcome of the Jerome Commission proceedings that resulted in allotment and homesteading. Through threats and cajolement enough male adults signed the Jerome Agreement in October 1892, which provided for homesteading the 2.8-million-acre KCA Reservation. After each KCA Indian selected a 160-acre allotment, the “surplus” lands were to be sold to homesteaders. For nine years the Kiowas protested the agreement and filed a suit against the Interior Department that culminated in Lone Wolf v. Hitchcock (January 1903). Ironically the U.S. Supreme Court decision against the Kiowas came a year and a half after the August 6, 1901, “opening,” in which the KCA Indians lost approximately 2.5 million acres of their former reservation (see Kracht 1989, 496–535; Clark 1994). During this nine-year period members of the Ghost Dance faction often threatened surveying parties and harassed those who sought to “improve” their allotments. For instance, Crawford, who camped among the “blanket Indians” of Saddle Mountain, distanced herself from the local Ghost Dance faction in 1898, when she built a “den” on the Aitson allotment. Crawford (1915, 99–103) related that there had been quite “a lot of kicking and talking going on about the building all over the reservation,” because the Ghost Dance leaders feared that any construction would trigger an influx of Anglomade fences that would “cut off ” Indian lands; they harassed Lucius Aitson, but he did not back down. In a similar fashion the Bannocks and Shoshones utilized the Ghost Dance as a “religion of resistance” against assimilation when they opposed a school on the Fort Hall Reservation (Smoak 2006, 170). Crawford (n.d., 7) later wrote that the Ghost Dance leaders were also upset because the Kiowa agent had met with the missionaries to determine the “best methods for breaking up the ghost dance, gambling, mescal [Peyote], Sabbath breaking, polygamy [polygyny], and other kindred evils among the Indians.” Obviously members of the Ghost Dance groups opposed houses, which symbolized the opening of the KCA Reservation, which they were trying to prevent, as were most Kiowas in the 1890s. Small family encampments where friends and family came to visit, dance, and worship together were more desirable than residing in stationary domiciles on allotted lands that separated them. Many Kiowas therefore tenaciously clung to customs of family and community that were being THE GHOST DANCE 113

threatened by rapid sociocultural change and government assimilation policies. Ghost Dance devotees were explicitly confrontational toward agents of change and colonialist policies. Typical members of the Ghost Dance faction, then, desired to visit deceased relatives during trances and adhere to older traditions. Another attraction of the movement was the incorporation of “traditional” activities and old-time games into the ceremony. (In the nascent Ghost Dance, Mooney noticed the large number of “Indian curios” brought into the dance circle.) Dancers adorned themselves with symbols of the past mixed with the new. For instance, clothing and body designs inspired by trance visions featured suns, moons, stars, and crosses, syncretically blended together. Some symbols, like the sun, had formerly been painted on war shields representing invulnerability. Crosses were obviously Christian-influenced. Dancers also attached crow or magpie feathers to their dance regalia. A document written by Rev. Guy Quoetone demonstrates that the Ghost Dance faction attempted to preserve elements of Kiowa culture. Quoetone described his visit to the Ghost Dance encampment west of Carnegie, where the Ten Medicines and Taime bundles were brought out for public viewing during an outside dance. Inside the dance circle was a large cross and a cedar tree stuck in the ground. During the dance the bundle keepers, dressed in long, white robes, with their hair flowing—unbraided hair was popular in the Ghost Dance, symbolizing humility and the proper way to invoke pity from the spirits—brought out the sacrosanct bundles, which had been purified in sweat lodges east of the camp. Seated beside the bundles, the keepers were lavished with gifts, including shawls, blankets, sticks representing horses and livestock, eagle feathers, and money. According to Quoetone, the dance followed an annuity payment, and the keepers received large amounts of money that day; such events had never occurred before.37 His written statement is very similar to Lou Hall’s account of the 1893 tipi meeting in which she noted that the Ghost Dance mixed Christianity “with the old idols.” Perhaps parallel to Lakota practices, the Kiowa Ghost Dance offered hope for a better future and a way to “bring the old religion to fulfillment” (DeMallie 1982, 399; see Andersson 2008, xi). 114 THE GHOST DANCE

Christian syncretisms in the Ghost Dance rituals indicate that Kiowas were familiar with the Christian God. Analogies to getting the spirit like Holiness people, prayers of “thank God,” and references to Jesus indicate that missionaries had exerted great influence in Kiowa country since the late 1880s. Nevertheless Christian elements were fused into the Ghost Dance through the precepts of Kiowa culture. Despite the fact that Kiowas I interviewed in the late 1980s believed that their ancestors were confused by rapid culture change, it seems that the Ghost Dance worshipers were acting out their interpretation of Christian doctrine. Indeed the comment that the Bible was given to Anglos, but that Indians had been given the dance road has almost become cliché. Christian symbols represent how Ghost Dancers perceived Christian concepts in their own terms as they confronted the missionaries coming to the reservation. Conversely Ghost Dancers considered the Peyote rite to be an acceptable Indian form of worship, even though it was a relatively young movement. Crawford’s description of the interior of a Ghost Dance lodge provides the single clue that Peyote was possibly consumed during Ghost Dance rituals. Many individuals practiced both religions, but there are no surviving accounts clearly indicating Peyote use during Kiowa Ghost Dance meetings. In February 1904 Crawford (1915, 230–31) mentioned a man who quit going to church because the missionaries preached against Peyote use; he “took the feather” and joined the Ghost Dance. Nevertheless the role of Peyote in the Ghost Dance remains unknown, although some of the early Ghost Dance practitioners, like Moon Head (Caddo) and Frank White (Pawnee), were active Peyotists as well. There is no supportive evidence that Peyote served as a proselytizing agent among the Kiowas, yet undoubtedly there were Ghost Dancers who also went to Peyote meetings. At the dawn of the twentieth century Kiowa notions of dɔdɔ remained relatively intact. By this time early Christian converts were convinced that Christianity was the most powerful religion, whereas those participating in the Peyote religion felt that there was much power in Peyote, a sacred medicine. Some switched back and forth between Peyotism and Christianity, accepting the beliefs that best fit their personal needs, which aligns with the indigenous notion that powers could be accumulated. On the other hand, those following the Ghost Dance supported the Peyote religion but challenged the power of the Christians. In 1900 THE GHOST DANCE 115

Crawford was informed by Ghost Dancers that they knew when Jesus was returning to earth for the second coming and that he was going to bring back the buffalo. During the winter of 1904 Afraid-of-Bears proclaimed that Jesus was coming to Saddle Mountain at noon on July 15 (Crawford 1915, 230–32). Jesus did not come, but the missionaries stayed. Along with agency personnel, they pressured the Kiowas to live in homes on scattered allotments and to cease dancing, feasting, and clinging to older traditions. The Ghost Dance persisted for another twelve years, not solely as a religion but as a social movement embracing Kiowa identity in an Anglo-dominated world. The Ghost Dance in the Early Twentieth Century White Fox, son of the Ghost Dance leader Afraid-of-Bears, told LaBarre that the revived or modified Ghost Dance was often similar to Christian prayer meetings and that before the movement was quelled in 1916, followers frequently assembled in modern buildings to pray.38 Though only four years old at the time, Weiser Tongkeamha (1912–91) remembered witnessing a Ghost Dance (ca. 1916) led by Afraid-of-Bears on the White Fox allotment west of Carnegie. He recalled a large encampment next to a three-room government house and that he was playing with some friends in a plowed field when his mother, a member, summoned him to partake of a meal consisting of meat and potato soup and fry bread. The dance he witnessed was a big circle dance, “just like they have a Round Dance today.” Women participants wore buckskin dresses, sans beadwork, but decorated with tassels and crescent moons and stars. Some of the singers included White Fox, Red Buffalo, and Weiser’s father, Kiowa Jim, who was not a member but “liked to sing.” Songs—accompanied only by shaking sticks with buffalo hooves attached to the end—“about the heavenly forces” compelled people to get up and dance, until some got “carried away” and fell over into trances during this “séance.” Those succumbing to trances went to heaven, “talked with Jesus,” woke up, and then informed others that they had seen their deceased relatives, who had inquired about them. Laughing, Weiser suggested that the Kiowa Ghost Dancers were the “first astronauts.”39 Around 1913 Alice Littleman (1910–2000), maternal granddaughter of Konad (White Buffalo), witnessed an indoor Ghost Dance performance 116 THE GHOST DANCE

approximately two to three miles west of Redstone Mission Church. A noted buckskin dress maker who began sewing at age five, Alice displayed a remarkable memory for details from her experiences: Going along the [Washita] river, we went over there, and, uh, uh, I was with Grandma and Grandpa. . . . They had a tipi up, they had a tipi up, and they were having singing in there. So, me and the kids, several, were playing around there, we went crawled over there and lift that up—that tipi to see what they were doing in there. There was a man sitting on the west side, had two little bells, were shaking them, and all of the others were sitting around. And then they start singing, oh they make lots of singing. And, uh, they run us off from there, they told us to get away from there.40 Alice then described how the children came back later for another peek under the tipi cover and saw a woman lying on the ground. After being chased away a second time, the children watched from a safe distance until the meeting ended and the worshipers emerged from the tipi.41 On another occasion Alice witnessed an outdoor dance at the Ghost Dance headquarters west of Carnegie. Again her attention to detail at such a young age is remarkable: And the next time they had it, they had it outside and I saw it. It was a circle. Like the Round Dance, we call it, and what I saw there, there was a big cross in the center of that ring, and they were dancing. And a lot of women had their hair untied, they had buckskin dresses on, but they’re not beaded, like today, they’re painted. I saw them. There’s a moon or a star or maybe a, a sun, you know, they got, they got that paint. And, uh, they didn’t have no fringes on the bottom. They were just, just buckskin dresses. . . . There’s a big, round circle that women and men were dancing, they’d fall down or they’d faint or something.42 White Fox specified that these outside gatherings were accompanied by Indian war dancing. Outdoor meetings began when the dancers moved clockwise around a fire, holding cedar in their right hands. After the Opening Song, cedar was thrown into the fire with the prayer “God THE GHOST DANCE 117

says for you to worship me, you people, I am the one who will bring you happiness.” White Fox mentioned that the dance steps were very similar to the steps in the Scalp Dance and the old warrior society dances.43 Just as Hand Games and other traditional activities became increasingly popular during the 1890 Ghost Dance movement, it is possible that White Fox was depicting another dance performed by members of the Ghost Dance faction. White Fox’s verbal description is analogous to Mooney’s documentation of the Crow Dance that preceded the Cheyenne-Arapaho Ghost Dance.44 Mooney compared the Crow Dance to the “Omaha” Dance, a popular war dance in the Northern Plains. Afternoon performances were highlighted by singers laying down a rhythm on an “immense drum,” singing songs describing crows and the messiah, while men adorned in dance bustles of “vari-colored feathers” danced, as did women. According to the vision that inspired the dance, the crows symbolized the “spirits of departed friends.” Dance choreography constantly evolved due to the large number of young men who participated in the increasingly popular dance, which uniquely featured hypnotism and trance visions as important parts of the dance that spread to other Plains tribes (Mooney 1896, 921–22). Sans hypnotism and trance visions, the dance was similar to the Kiowa O-ho-ma, or O-ho-mah, Dance. Kiowa eyewitnesses to early twentieth-century dances like Weiser Tongkeamha have maintained that O-ho-ma and Ghost Dances were held separately, but it seems logical that membership in both groups overlapped, especially since followers of the Ghost Dance adhered to older customs and their fondness for the War Dance, compelling agency superintendents to identify them as the “dance faction,” or the “dance crowd.”45 Mrs. Hokeah told Collier a story about the origin of the O-ho-ma Dance that shows parallels to the Ghost Dance through the giving of the feather ceremony. Accordingly the O-ho-ma was introduced to the Kiowas by visiting Cheyennes who performed a version of the War Dance they had received from the Omahas (see Boyd 1981, 65–70). In the spring of 1883 Cheyenne visitors at a Kiowa encampment performed the dance in a large tipi: the Cheyennes sat at the north side of the tipi and the Kiowas were seated at the south side, symbolizing Eagle- Crow moieties. Once the dance began, one by one the Cheyennes moved to the south side and presented single eagle feathers to the Kiowas. Each recipient 118 THE GHOST DANCE

then attached the feather to his scalp lock, a procedure that continued until most of the Kiowas were thus adorned. After this was completed, the Cheyenne chiefs asked for the highest ranking Kiowa chief. Big Bow was selected, and a Cheyenne chief danced over and crowned him with an eagle-feather headdress trailing the ground with two deer horns on the cap. Big Bow was then presented a large drum to symbolize his new status. To honor the Cheyenne benefactors, Big Bow gave away several horses, and each Kiowa who received an eagle feather gave his sponsor a horse.46 Honoring guests through the giveaway, a pan-Plains phenomenon, would become an important part of the Kiowa O-ho-ma, much to the chagrin of agency employees and missionaries. According to Mrs. Hokeah, the first official O-ho-ma Society meeting occurred in the summer of 1884 and was attended by fifty members; there was no Sun Dance that year.47 Like the other sodalities, the O-ho-ma participated in the last two Kiowa Sun Dances, held in 1885 and 1887. Several Kiowa elders interviewed in 1935 had participated in these dances, including Max Frizzlehead and Sanko. During one of the dances they described, O-ho-ma members formally exchanged gifts with members of the Tonkonko Society after being blocked in their society tipi with firewood. Horses were given to the men of the Tonkonko, then Tonakɔt “electrified the multitude by giving away his niece and a horse to one of the men.” Many spectators frowned upon this shocking giveaway gift.48 Hence the O-ho-ma Dance, a newly introduced version of the War Dance, gained rapid popularity. Since giveaways were important features of the O-ho-ma Dance, non-Indians erroneously referred to it as the “Gift Dance,” a label they gave to any tribal or intertribal dance featuring giveaways. During the first two decades of the twentieth century the O-ho-ma Dance was as popular as the Ghost Dance among the Kiowas. To agency superintendents opposed to such Indian gatherings, the Ghost Dance and Gift Dance were indistinguishable (see Young 1981, 219–39; Kracht 2012). The Anti–Ghost Dance, Anti–Gift Dance Campaign Recently Donna M. Glowacki (2011, 70) pointed out that “conflict, social tension, and resistance” are associated with revitalization movements due to “differing, and possibly contradictory, agendas, beliefs, and viewTHE GHOST DANCE 119

points at play.” Conflicting viewpoints are evident in the correspondence and journals of the missionaries and government officials who opposed the Ghost Dance versus those who defended it. As DeMallie (1982, 401) explains, Indian agents were often “dictatorial” in their opposition to Indian customs and believed the Ghost Dance thwarted “civilization” policy. Andersson (2008, 275) concurs, pointing out that the agents at Pine Ridge, Cheyenne River, and Rosebud reservations perceived the Lakota Ghost Dance to be “demoralizing.” During the early twentieth century, Indian commissioners William A. Jones (1897–1904), Francis E. Leupp (1905–9), and Robert G. Valentine (1909–13) were somewhat tolerant of Indian beliefs and customs. Jones and Leupp, for instance, advocated weaving and basketry at Indian schools. Leupp, who respected the closeness of American Indian families, supported the revival of Indian music and arts in the schools to foster pride in Native heritage, and he believed there was no harm in maintaining American Indian values and traditions for those striving to become citizens. Commissioner Cato Sells (1913–21), however, was not so liberal-minded; during his tenure the Indian Office began investigating the nature and extent of “old Indian dances.” The friends of the Indian petitioned him with complaints about camping, dancing, Peyote use, and other forms of religious expression deemed detrimental to successful assimilation into mainstream America. This prompted his successor, Charles Burke (1921–29), to issue Circular 1665 his first year in office, which allowed agency superintendents to suppress Indian dances they deemed immoral and against the best interests of Indian communities.49 Burke’s actions were supported by the Indian Rights Association and the Board of Indian Commissioners.50 Collectively the friends and Sells proposed a House bill in 1926 empowering the Courts of Indian Offenses to levy heavy fines and jail sentences against violators of the moral codes specified in Circular 1665. The so-called Leavitt bill did not pass, largely due to the efforts of John Collier, who at the time was a social worker quickly rising to power in the BIA (Olson and Wilson 1984, 97; Prucha 1984, 829, 767, 800–805). But although the Levitt bill was defeated, Indian dances were harassed until Collier became Indian commissioner in 1933. Kiowas felt the brunt of antidance policies, especially between 1909 and 1916, when the Ghost Dance and O-ho-mah Dance were targeted for eradication (Kracht 2012, 288). 120 THE GHOST DANCE

Since the beginning of the reservation period, Indian agency personnel and missionaries had focused on transforming the Indians of Oklahoma Territory into sedentary farmers. By the early twentieth century one of their major complaints was that Indians abandoned their newly built homes to attend Indian dances and even church revivals, gatherings that often involved camping for weeks at a time. The campaign to outlaw such activities earnestly began when a Kiowa Agency field matron reported that the Indians in western Oklahoma were leaving their homes to participate in intertribal dances.51 Superintendent Ernest Stecker (1908–13) wrote to Commissioner Valentine that intertribal visiting began in July 1909 in a camp meeting sponsored by the Baptist Mission Association at Red Rock (Redstone) Mission west of Anadarko. The event drew about two thousand Indians, at least half of whom were Cheyennes and Arapahos: After the [camp] meeting closed these visiting Indians visited with the Kiowa and Comanche Indians, following their old tribal customs, at which they received presents from the Kiowa and Comanches, and upon their departure they invited their friends to visit them. Later a large number of Kiowas and Comanches visited the Cheyenne and Arapaho reservation, although every possible effort was made to keep them at home. While the last per capita payment was under way the Cheyennes again returned to visit the Kiowas, and I informed the Kiowas and the Cheyennes that these visits and dances must stop. I also informed them that I would make no payment to the Kiowas until I learned that the Cheyennes had returned to their homes. This caused a delay in the payment, and much discontent among the Kiowas. I have advised the Baptist Mission, through Miss Katherine Ellis, Field Matron, to place more missionaries in this field if they desire to help the Indians, in order to teach the Indians to remain at home, and, after that to teach them how to attend a Camp meeting and return to their homes. I recommend that I be instructed to withhold any payment due any Indian who visits any other reservation without my permission. This is the only remedy available to break up a growing practice.52 THE GHOST DANCE 121

Indian Office officials told Stecker to support the field matrons in their efforts to prevent his charges from camping and to find a way to keep them in their homes.53 Stecker spoke to individuals who came in for their annuity payment in January 1910, then held a council and reproached the Indians for leaving their homes (Kracht 2012, 288–89). Stecker informed them that they must increase their crop yield in the coming year or else he would withhold their annuities: “This was done to impress upon them the importance of individual effort toward their support, and to discourage visiting other reservations, and leaving their homes, stock, etc., without the proper care and attention. The only means whereby they may be compelled to remain at home and attend to their stock and farms is . . . to withhold their moneys or a portion of it until they show the proper interest in their homes.”54 Stecker was notified in early February that no law permitted him to withhold annuity payments, but he was not dissuaded from making such threats: “It is hoped, that, inasmuch as no legal constraint may be placed on them, your argument may prove convincing to the Indians.”55 By the end of his tenure Stecker had not eradicated intertribal visiting, dancing, and gift giving. Recognizing the importance of gift giving in intertribal relations, he solicited Ä′piatañ, whom he recognized as chief of the Kiowas, to name those involved in “Give-away dances.” In July 1913, he wrote the newly appointed Sells to identify the leaders of three dance factions: (1) Kau ti ke ah (Big Joe), San ka do ta (Sankadota), and Charley O hel toint (Buffalo); (2) James Waldo, or Kogaitadal (Lean Elk), a Carlisle graduate, Ko nad (White Buffalo), and Ta ne tone (Eagle Tail); and (3) Maun kee (Kiowa Bill), Au kaunt (Frank Given), Ah dong ky (White Buffalo), and Tong ke ah bo (Kracht 2012, 289). Stecker recommended that a “strong” letter should be sent to each individual, “and all those who participate in the ‘Give-away dance’ or any other detrimental dance, will be punished by forfeiting their right to share in the annuity payment following such dance and that all other funds due them shall be deposited in banks and be expended under approved authorities only.”56 Stecker regretted that “a class of cheap lawyers” had informed the Indians that as citizens, they had the privilege of dancing provided they did not violate state laws, thus making it more difficult to convince them 122 THE GHOST DANCE

to quit dancing (Kracht 2012, 289). Stecker then identified the Ghost Dance as another popular dance: We have also a semi-religious dance known as the Ghost Dance. The leader, Sit ah pa tah [Afraid-of-Bears] is an old blind man. These Ghost Dancers always ask permission to dance on or about July 4th—which permission it has been customary to grant with a view of controlling the dance and also on account of its semi-religious nature. I request instructions as to whether this dance should be discontinued. In my opinion it should be discontinued as it has a tendency to awake in the Indian nature “The Calling of the Wild,” which results in other dancing when they should be at work in their fields. With no law or regulation to govern, it is impossible to stop these dances and especially where the Indian believes there is no law to prevent, they are at times, deaf to advise [sic] or persuasion, more especially so when visiting Indians are among them.57 Stecker’s letter illustrates that Indian activities were monitored by agency personnel and that dance leaders petitioned the superintendents whenever they wished to sponsor large dances. Dating back to the early reservation period, military escorts had accompanied the Kiowas when they departed for their summer hunts and Sun Dances. Individuals leaving the reservation needed the agent’s approval. By the 1910s the Kiowas were no longer subject to martial law and the garrison at Fort Sill was no longer summoned. Nevertheless memories of military subjugation lingered, and many Kiowas believed the army would break up their dances. Stecker now threatened to take away their annuity payments, the only source of income for many people, especially the elderly. Stecker did not hear from Sells, but he received a nebulous response from the second assistant commissioner, C. F. Hauke: The Office has taken every practicable means to prevent the “Give away dance” because of its evil effects, but the action in each instance has depended largely upon local conditions and no general regulations on the subject have been issued. THE GHOST DANCE 123

It is the aim of the Office to do away with all the old time ceremonial dances but these have not been totally prohibited anywhere, except the sun dance or dances under other names which partake of its characteristics. The Office recognizes the strong desire of the older Indians to indulge occasionally in these dances and while it does not sanction them it has not taken any positive steps to prohibit them where they have not been indulged in more than once or twice a year. However, no dance should be permitted which materially interferes with the industrial work of the Indians and every effort has been made to prevent affairs of this kind.58 Hauke also requested information about the frequency of dances and the “extent to which the Indians indulge in giving away their property” and wanted more details about the Ghost Dance.59 Obviously the Office of Indian Affairs had no clear-cut antidance policy at the time, and it appears there was no consistent effort to eradicate all dances and customs. In June 1914 Stecker responded to the Indian Office, stating that the Indians in his jurisdiction “have been allowed to dance once or twice during each year by former Indian agents, and since I assumed charge of this Agency.” He then reported that Afraid-of-Bears had recently visited the Anadarko Agency requesting permission to sponsor a July Fourth Ghost Dance, which Stecker promptly denied on the grounds that “the present Commissioner of Indian Affairs did not approve of these dances.” Stecker’s refusal angered Afraid- of-Bears, who accused him of acting alone without the backing of the Indian Office. Several days later the blind priest informed Stecker that “he would like to dance only one day—the people to gather on a certain date, dance the day following and break camp the third day.” Much to his dismay Stecker also learned that the Ghost Dance faction had sought council from an attorney, who informed them of their legal right as citizens to dance. Stecker requested a “strong letter, sent direct to the leaders,” then mentioned that the Ghost Dance faction also opposed the “church faction,” which was backed by Ä′piatañ, whom he lauded for his continuous opposition to the Ghost Dance as well as the Gift Dance.60 Ä′piatañ had written Sells the previous year denouncing “various dances given by said Indians where horses cattle and money and other useful and necessary things are given away.”61 Stecker 124 THE GHOST DANCE

agreed that in “the Give-away Dance, their extravagance is only limited by their means and excited mental condition.”62 Along with his letter Stecker enclosed four letters written by local missionaries he maintained were familiar with the Ghost Dance and Gift Dance: Andres Martinez, H. H. Clouse, B. F. Gassaway, and Harry H. Treat. All four recognized the importance of trances and communicating with spirits of the dead in the Ghost Dance, though Gassaway and Clouse erroneously believed that the return of the buffalo and the new earth prophecies were still central to the movement.63 Claiming to have been acquainted with the Ghost Dance for sixteen years, Gassaway identified Afraid-of-Bears as the “high priest” of the “new fad,” living at the “headquarter Tepee on the Washita River west of Carnegie.” His “Lieutenants” included Little Robe, “now deceased,” stationed at the Sugar Creek “Ghost Dance Tepee,” near Rainy Mountain, and Coday, or Tien-a-body, located at Eagle Heart Springs south of Carnegie.64 Treat had served at Redstone Mission for only seven years, although he witnessed two Ghost Dances west of Carnegie and interviewed Amauty and Kohty (Coday) at the Sugar Creek and Eagle Heart Springs encampments, respectively. They related that many who followed Afraid-ofBears were elderly people seeking otherworldly connections through trance visions: “I am told that these Ghost Dance people have passed from the stage where they dreamed of merely the return to the old condition of buffalo and no white men, through a stage where they had trances or séances in which they claimed to hold communication with the dead friends and bring messages from God, Jesus, or any person who had died, and now they include practically the worship of the old blind and deaf leader at Carnegie. And they put money or something in his hand and pray to him.”65 Treat erroneously believed that Afraid-of-Bears was old and deaf, and his last sentence focuses on gift giving as part of the ritual, a detail further elaborated by Martinez: “Whenever one of the Indians of the Ghost Dance dreams a dream in regard to the Ghost Dance, they go visit this blind man and present to him, money or anything else they desire to give him. They place the present on his head and pray, after which they put the present into his hand.”66 The missionaries accused Afraid-of-Bears of fleecing the Indians through a phony religion.67 THE GHOST DANCE 125

According to Gassaway, the messages brought back from beyond always opposed progress, civilization, and Christianity.68 Treat complained that the Ghost Dance contingent revered “the Indian medicine man or woman”; he maintained that the “Ghost Dance is an inclusive religion, it has inherited all of the old Kiowa Medicine bags, and fosters the use of them for sickness, or times of distress. And it has a place for every old Indian medicine man or woman.”69 This passage demonstrates involvement of some of the Kiowa bundle keepers in the revived Ghost Dance, which is not surprising since Afraid-of-Bears took care of one of the Ten Medicines. In a hide painting from this era, Silver Horn, also a Zaidethali keeper, depicted two bundle keepers sitting outside the dance circle to the southwest and southeast; the latter appears to be the Taime bundle (Greene 2001, plate 29). Reverend Clouse of Rainy Mountain Baptist Church identified several “Peyote doctors and old Indian doctors,” including Unap (Eoneah), Frank Given (Set’angya III), and Harry Hall (Zotigh). Clouse specified that they were connected to the Ghost Dance faction and accused them of “graft,” calling them a “curse to this tribe.”70 Zotigh was a Peyote doctor well-known throughout Indian country until his death in 1954 (Hall 2000, vii, 47–53, 233–34). Claiming to have spent eighteen years as a “close student” of the Ghost Dance, Clouse incorrectly asserted that the “intellectual development” of the movement involved “recounting old war times and telling ghost stories.” Clouse also related that the outdoor ceremony and encampment west of Carnegie in July 1913 was a six-week affair, as compared to church camp meetings that lasted only a week. Citing the dearth of Christian influences, Clouse believed the Ghost Dance headquarters and encampment lacked sanitation, harbored disease, and encouraged loose morals and indolence. He described the scene about the camp: Most of the year that old camp dowwn the river is a sight. They clean it up some in the spring. Trash and filth of all kinds, excretions of children dogs and horses; the breding [sic] place of flies and all kinds of germs; mud, dust, tin cans and old bones. Dirt dirt. Many half-clothed children raised in filth, little gardens for diseased germs, for harvest in a few years. To this place they come with their sick and camp for months and spread contagion. In the begining, in a clean home a white doctor 126 THE GHOST DANCE

could save many of them. They go there becaus [sic] others are there and for the old leader to pray for them. And when the diseas [sic] has made great headway they send for the white doctor; but it is too late for him to do much. Many have passed away and others are going fast.71 Treat too depicted a disease-ridden Ghost Dance headquarters: “Then, too, there is nothing in [the] Ghost Dance that I have yet found which helps to [support] physical sanitation. . . . And the camp at Carnegie has been a hot bed for much disease. I know of many who have gone to the camp at carnegie [sic] merely to die, or perhaps get home to die. I have seen great difference in a camp where the Ghost dance people had the charge and where Christian Indians had charge, when epidemic was on.”72 Treat also claimed that the Ghost Dance was a bad influence on Indian youths returning from boarding schools who joined the camps, presumably lured by sexual liaisons that never occurred at church camp meetings: And then one young man told me that he liked the Ghost Dance and the Peyote religion, because when he went there he could enjoy the young women as he wanted to, and no one bothered him about it. I have learned to expect that the July camp at Carnegie will give from two to a half dozen or more Indian marriages to chase down and help make legal. The twice that I have been at the Carnegie Camp during these years, has revealed to me many young men in white sheets darting from tent to tent after dark has set in. The first time I did not know what it meant, but soon after I found that several of the girls had been taken by the boys. We have not been able to get evidence, but I understand that during last July one of our Red Stone girls and one of the Rainy Mtn boys spent the night in a corn field. . . . And yet the holding to the old as they do keeps the moral sense of most of the tribe backward, and they fail to look down that course. And I know of some who have counselled to go ahead. In this matter, however, I believe the Peyote is fully as immoral as the Ghost Dance.73 Collectively the missionaries’ letters portray the Ghost Dance camps as filthy, immoral villages of backward Indians that conflicted with the standards of legally married Christian Indians inhabiting clean homes. THE GHOST DANCE 127

Allegorically they compared pagan Indians clinging to a superstitious, nonsensical religious fad to progressive Indians following the Jesus road, a theme extended to other attacks on ceremonies and dances offending the sensibilities of the missionaries; only indolent Indians clung to old customs. Timing, however, was not on Stecker’s side, because the July 4, 1914, Ghost Dance was held despite his disapproval, as reported by C. V. Stinchecum, his successor.74 Sells was obviously influenced by the missionary accounts, for in midJuly he sent Stecker a letter for someone to read to Afraid-of-Bears. Referring to the missionary letters, Sells condemned the Ghost Dance camps as unsanitary, disease-ridden communities encouraging adulterous encounters and extravagant gift giving, then asked Afraid-of-Bears to “promptly and willingly” put aside “for all time the Ghost Dance and the features attending it.”75 Sells also condoned Stecker’s opposition to the movement: “I am convinced that the effect of the Ghost Dance can only be harmful, and you are therefore requested to continue your refusal of permission for the dance and to discourage in every reasonable way indulgence therein at points outside of your jurisdiction.”76 Sells also wrote a letter to Ä′piatañ praising him for the “businesslike” manner in which he had initially identified the Ghost Dance as fraudulent.77 Ä′piatañ responded to Sell’s letter, asking for “strong support and backing” against “the old men and some of the young educated ones” who performed the Ghost Dance and Gift Dance, and he endorsed withholding the per capita payments of “the Indians who stand for the dances and the Payote [sic] worship.” Assuming the role of “Chief of the Kiowa Tribe of Indians,” Ä′piatañ clearly outlined his “rupture” from certain Kiowa traditions (see Marshall 2016, 2–9 concerning modern-day NeoPentecostalism and rupture among the Navajos): I am convinced that the continuance of this dance and other customes and habits common to my people are not best for them. The The [sic] conditions formerly existing are all changed. We have come in contact with the white man’s civilization, and the religion of the Bible, and I advise my people to turn from the past and live for the present and the future. I advise industrial persuits that will develop the Indians into self sustaining Farmers and Stock raisers. I favor industrial education 128 THE GHOST DANCE

for our young people along practical lines so that they may develop into useful citizens. . . . I have as Chief of the Tribe opposed as hurtful to my people, and contrary to their best interest in every way, the Ghost Dance, the War Dance, and all gift dances, the interchange of Tribal visitation to perpetuate these dances, the Peyote worship and other forms of Idolatry which consume the time and money of the people to no good end. I sue no attempt at force or coercion in these matters, but advise my people to abandon these practices, and because of this some of my people, who favor and practice these things, oppose me, and speak of trying to supercede me, and say they will complain against me to the Commissioner. For this reason I write you to lay before you my position on these matters.78 Sometime in September 1914 Assistant Indian Commissioner E. B. Merritt wrote to Ä′piatañ thanking and commending him for his continued opposition to the Gift Dance, which he perceived as more pernicious than the Ghost Dance, then sent a directive to Stecker: “The Office desires that the Indians shall not be permitted under any circumstances, if possible, to indulge in dances in connection with which it is the custom to give valuable presents. You should give this matter your close attention with a view to seeing that your instructions are complied with.”79 Merritt added that Ä′piatañ had informed him that no one except Delos K. Lonewolf and Otto Wells (Comanche) from the KCA Business Committee would “assist him in keeping the Indians from indulging in the Gift Dance and other harmful practices.” Given the lack of cooperation, Merritt recommended calling a council to elect new committee members. Prior to stepping down at the end of March 1915, Stecker informed Sells that two political factions had developed in his jurisdiction: Ä′piatañ and the anti–Ghost Dance faction, represented by the “more lawabiding element in the tribe,” versus Kiowa Bill and the “dance crowd,” which included “that class who seize upon every opportunity to antagonize every effort made toward their uplift.” Stecker reported that Kiowa Bill desired to take over Ä′piatañ’s position as “recognized chief of the Kiowas” and that he had been calling councils to muster support for his cause. Besides his association with the Gift Dance, Kiowa Bill was also a THE GHOST DANCE 129

member of the KCA Business Committee who campaigned outside business meetings, creating problems for the “progressive” faction: I will say further that in the meetings of the Business Committee at this Agency, everything seems to appear harmonious and I believe would be so if Kiowa Bill would keep faith with his fellow-members and with me. He is so constituted however, that he prefers to sit quiet in these meetings and make his “kicks” on the outside and his desire to replace Ah-pe-ah-tone as Chief is an obsession which is paramount to anything else. [Kiowa] Bill and James Waldo have been very antagonistic relative to the ghost and give-a-way dances and I have been unable to counteract their influence among the Kiowas. Ah-pe-ah-tone’s numerous speeches against the dance evil are responsible for much of the feelings against him. With nothing to work with in our endeavor to stamp out this evil, other than moral suasion it is hard indeed to cope with it and I hope that someday your Office will be empowered to authorize Superintendents to withhold moneys of Indians who persist in keeping alive these superstitious rites and dances. Such action as regards these people would have almost immediate effect in accomplishing results which otherwise will not be obtained for many years. Of the five tribes under this agency the Kiowas seem to be the only one that shows a general disposition to cling to these injurious dances or gatherings.80 Stecker also noted that Kiowa Bill called a special council meeting at Mountain View on May 19, 1914, to elect a council in opposition to the Kiowa members on the Business Committee. Twelve Kiowa men were elected: James Waldo, Sherman Chaddlesone, Edgar Keahbone, Goomda (Wind), Poolaw, Tah-bone-mah, Big Tree, E-mau-tah (Kissing His Wife), White Buffalo, O-hel-toint, Odle-paugh, and Kiowa Bill. Stecker did not recognize the newly elected leaders and recommended that when Ä′piatañ died, the honorary position of Kiowa chief should not be retained.81 Obviously conflict within the Kiowa tribe is reflected in the contradictory political and religious agendas of the two factions. Similar divisions occurred among the Lakotas during the 1890 Ghost Dance movement (Andersson 2008, 272–74). 130 THE GHOST DANCE

Stecker’s replacement, C. V. Stinchecum, assumed control of the Kiowa Agency on April 1, 1915.82 Sharing the antidance sentiments of his predecessor, Stinchecum confronted the Ghost Dance leaders in his office in late June.83 Several days earlier Red Buffalo had visited Congressman Scott Ferris’s law firm in Lawton, where he was informed by an associate that the “only restriction that the government has on you is that you cannot dispose of your property.” Given the “same rights of citizenship as any white person,” however, Red Buffalo was advised to “go ahead and hold your dance” because “you have the same right as a white person to worship in the manner you deem advisable.”84 Presented with a copy of the letter, a shaken Stinchecum hastily wired the Indian Office claiming five hundred Indians were planning to conduct a week-long Ghost Dance for the July Fourth holiday. He also wanted to know if he was authorized to withhold annuity payments from “approximately twenty five leaders in [an] effort to stop this dance. Moral suasion has no effect.”85 Several days later Stinchecum wrote Sells complaining that Stecker had never eradicated the Ghost Dance and that he was powerless to prevent the Indians from conducting one.86 On the same day Assistant Commissioner Merritt approved withholding the annuity payments of those who attended Ghost Dances. Merritt was convinced that the dance embodied “the worst practices of superstition and depraved morality” and kept the Indians from their farms for up to ten days. Reasoning that since the Kiowas were privy to “legal advice,” “a show of force” would only encourage gatherings “on patented land in open defiance of reservation authority.” Therefore Merritt supported the option of withholding per capita payments. According to him, the KCA 5 percent fund was an annual fund mandated by the Act of June 6, 1900, but the KCA 4 percent monies were appropriated by the U.S. House of Representatives every summer and were released at the discretion of the interior secretary. Merritt believed that withholding the 4 percent monies would deprive the dancers “of all annuities for a considerable time,” compelling them to abandon the Ghost Dance.87 Although Merritt authorized Stinchecum to withhold 4 percent funds, an internal Interior Department memorandum dated July 2, 1915, stated that those monies were not really annuities but were distributed for the Indians’ “maintenance and support, and improvements of their homeTHE GHOST DANCE 131

steads, for the ensuing year.”88 The memo also admitted that threatening to withhold these monies was probably stretching the authority of the Interior Department but was justifiable “if thereby we may put a stop to celebrations of this sort.” Due to the illness of a clerk, the memo did not circulate for another week, as stated by a handwritten note appearing on the document.89 Unhindered by bureaucracy, the 1915 Ghost Dance occurred anyway. When Afraid-of-Bears and other delegates returned to the agency on July 3 and told Stinchecum that the Ghost Dance encampment had been set up, he informed them that he had “requested authority from the Office to hold up the annuities of the leaders of the ghost dance faction.” Undoubtedly prepared for this ploy, Afraid-of-Bears agreed to conduct a “picnic” on July 4 and 5. Furthermore the camp would disperse on the morning of July 6 and “no dance of any description would be held.” If no dance was held, the Ghost Dance followers “would be permitted to worship God in such manner as they saw fit.” Stinchecum claimed that an agency representative attended the gathering and that “for the first time in years, the ghost dance crowd met on the 4th of July and did not have a dance.” Stinchecum “regarded [the Ghost Dance] as a religious belief merely as a cloak to cover their desire to dance,” and he believed he had attacked “a spot which was even more sacred to them than this so called religion . . . their pocketbook.”90 Perhaps the 1915 Ghost Dance “picnic” west of Carnegie is the one visited by members of the Mount Scott Kiowa Methodist Church: Kicking Bird II, Jimmy Quoetone, Luther Sahmaunt, Hunting Horse, Guy Ware, and Harry Ware. According to an account written by Guy Quoetone, the Christians entered the tipi where Afraid-of-Bears and White Buffalo were conducting a meeting. White Buffalo asked the Christians what they wanted, then said, “We will only give you a short time to say what you have to say.” Kicking Bird preached from the Bible to all present, then they departed the camp.91 Charley Apekaum claimed that he accompanied Kicking Bird, his uncle, to this “big dance” and that shortly afterward the Ghost Dance movement was over (LaBarre 1957, 16). Stinchecum took credit for eradicating the Ghost Dance, which, along with the “give away dance must, if possible, be relegated to the dim past.” Thinking ahead to 1916, Stinchecum persuaded Afraid-of-Bears 132 THE GHOST DANCE

“to announce to the picnickers that the following year a picnic for two days, only, would be held and would announce that no dance would be held at that time.”92 Responding to Stinchecum’s report describing how he dealt with the 1915 dance, Merritt informed him that the Indian Office would investigate the legality of withholding annuities if a Ghost Dance occurred the following year.93 Obviously aware that the Ghost Dance was on the verge of extinction, Afraid-of-Bears sent a letter to Merritt in November 1915 explaining the religion and why it was not harmful: I am the head-man of the so-called “Ghost Dance,” and I am going to explain the truth about our meeting, we pray to the same savior and the Father, who made the heaven and earth. We hold our meeting on Sundays all the year around, I pray on Sundays and on the Fourth of July and twenty-fifth of December we dance outside of the tabernacle; and the dance I have danced, I called it a religious dance, but the missionaries called it a Ghost Dance. On Sunday I have meeting in the inside of the teepe [sic] during the day; and on July 4th I have my religious dance which lastes for about four days—I have a great feast on Sunday, and on the following Monday I dance, and this is the way I have my meeting. Now, someone has told you the during the meeting we spread disease among ourselves, I will tell you that this report is all untrue. The religious dance is attended by grown Indians and not the young Indians and during the meeting I or other Indians do not use any intoxicating liquor, I keeps order during the meetng. Now this is [the] truth about the Ghost Dance.94 In the letter Afraid-of-Bears acknowledged similarities between the Ghost Dance and Christianity, especially the notion of a common creator, and described the coincidence of Ghost Dances with national and Christian holidays. Sunday feasts could be interpreted as Sunday dinner after church. Perhaps these were simple syncretisms devised to appeal to Anglo sensibilities. Afraid-of-Bears also pointed out that Indian dancing was not morally wrong. Attached to his letter was a supportive statement from I-See-O, who described the Ghost Dance as “just a pure religious THE GHOST DANCE 133

meeting held by Indians, and I think it is alright . . . because everyone pray to the same Father in Heaven.”95 Merritt’s response to Afraid-of-Bears was unsympathetic: “The [Indian] Office feels that it understands better than some of these old people what is best for the Indians as a whole.” He emphasized that Indian Office personnel were convinced that the Ghost Dance “ought to be discontinued.”96 Anticipating problems for the July 1916 dance, the Ghost Dance faction began campaigning in early February. Undoubtedly prompted by Kiowa Bill, Big Tree—a member of Rainy Mountain Kiowa Baptist Church—wrote to Interior Secretary Franklin K. Lane in defense of the Ghost Dance.97 Acknowledging that Indians and Anglos believed in “one Heavenly Father,” Big Tree stated that many Kiowas were poor because they had little livestock and few rents. As “second chief,” he claimed, he worked hard to keep the children in the government school at Rainy Mountain and tried to convince the young men to stay away from Mountain View, where whiskey and rough men abounded. Big Tree then spoke on behalf of the Ghost Dance: Another thing I want to say is that we have our good time on the 4th of July, which we take part in with the white men, and we Indians like to do the same on the 4th as the white men, we dance our Wroship [sic] Dance on the 4th of July, and on Christman [sic] Day of each year, and we have our own houses to Worship in and Pray to God. Only those two time a year we have those Worship Dances, and we attend the Worship open to everyone the rest of the year. Some time ago I heard of Commissioner telling the Agent to tell us to have it stopped, and now I am telling you the truth just as it is about these Dances. You are my friend and now I have shown it up to you about these poor old men and their ways. I thought when I heard the Agent trying to stop these old men from that, that it was just the same as the white people, they all pray to the same God, and have many other ways of worshiping him. I have seen the white people in their churches preaching and singing although I did not know what kind of religion they had, but I knew they were praying to the same God.98

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Big Tree insisted that Indians and Anglos worshiped God in their own way and that Indian practices should not be discriminated against. A week later Big Tree sent Lane another letter supporting the Ghost Dance—as well as the Peyote religion—and asserted that liquor was not consumed during the dance, as claimed by the missionaries. Big Tree reiterated, “We all pray to the same God, and all expect to go to the same Heaven.”99 Both letters were sent to Merritt, whose response to Big Tree bluntly stated that the “old dances are inconsistent with the civilization and industrial and moral development of the Indians” and that the Office did not condone such activities.100 As winter turned to spring Stinchecum anticipated that the Ghost Dance leaders would approach him concerning the dance they planned for the following summer. In late April 1916 he wrote Sells seeking permission to withhold annuity payments from those involved in the prohibited dance that summer.101 Three months later Sells authorized Stinchecum to withhold per capita monies: “You are hereby directed to use every practicable means to prevent a repetition of it this or any subsequent year, and as a means of enforcing this order you are hereby further directed to withhold, until further advised, the share in the annual appropriation of $250,000 of Kiowa, Comanche and Apache 4% funds of any Indian who shall participate in said dance at or near your reservation.”102 Meanwhile, recognizing the risks in conducting a Ghost Dance, members of the dance faction sought alternate activities. For instance, Jim Ahtone petitioned Sells to permit a dance and picnic on his allotment near Stecker, thirteen miles south of Anadarko, on August 25. Ahtone complained that Stinchecum “alway[s] make kick about the Indians dances” and that he desired to sponsor the dance because “old time Indians way old people like to have it, and think way back when the[y] were young.” Ahtone concluded by highlighting his success as a farmer and assured Sells that the dance would not interfere with his livelihood.103 Sells did not write back, but likeminded Assistant Commissioner Merritt responded by saying that Stinchecum had the power to decide which dances could be held and that the Indian Office did not condone dances or customs “regarded as detrimental to the progress and civilization of the Indians.”104

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Merritt’s response prompted Ahtone to write Sells a second time, this time promising that the Ghost Dance would not be staged at his picnic. In fact Ahtone did not even mention dancing; he merely requested having a picnic, just like Anglos, and emphasized that there would be no whiskey drinking or gambling. Undoubtedly frustrated, Ahtone stated that the individuals requesting him to write on their behalf wanted to know if there was a law against holding picnics.105 Merritt reiterated that the Indian Office “will leave the matter to him [Stinchecum],” and it was up to Ahtone to seek permission from the superintendent to have the picnic.106 Now that Stinchecum was given greater control over Indian functions within his jurisdiction, he lived up to his reputation for disdaining Native rituals by not authorizing any dances during the summer of 1916. Undaunted by his steadfast refusal to permit dancing, those clinging to the dance road were not dissuaded from holding dances on remote allotments that summer. Some occurrences came to Stinchecum’s attention, for instance, when a large contingent of Cheyennes and Arapahos attended a Kiowa Gift Dance in late July. Stinchecum lamented that horses, vehicles, and other articles of personal property were given away, “regardless of need therefore of donors.” He further complained that the dance would last a week or more, “promoting immorality” and causing the “Indians to forsake [their] homes and farms for [a] week or more” (Kracht 2012, 290).107 Stinchecum’s telegram prompted the Indian Office to enforce its policy forbidding the Ghost Dance and Gift Dance. Citing Sells’s July 11 authorization to eradicate such “pernicious” dances, Merritt directed Stinchecum “to use every practicable means to prevent the repetition of the ghost dance” and to punish all offenders by withholding their 4 percent payments.108 In mid-August, Tennyson Berry, a Plains Apache member of the KCA Business Committee, wired Congressman Ferris—who apparently gave a sympathetic ear to Indians—informing him that Stinchecum was going to withhold 5 percent monies from Indians accused of dancing that summer.109 Merritt informed Ferris that 5 percent funds were dispersed “within the discretion of the [Interior] Department” (Kracht 2012, 291).110 Responding to the correspondence several days later, Stinchecum pointed out that Berry was mistaken: “The fund to be withheld is the annuity payment which will be made sometime during the coming fall.” 136 THE GHOST DANCE

Stinchecum then described two recent events. First, a number of visiting Cheyennes planned an August 20 dance near the home of John Whiteman, a Plains Apache, who “kept away from his allotment” when he learned that Stinchecum planned to withhold annuities of the participants. Finding no one at home, the Cheyennes departed. The second event was a Kiowa dance for which Stinchecum identified the names of about ninety participants, whose monies he intended to withhold. Stinchecum also noted that Tennyson Berry had attended the dance but did not participate.111 Merritt wrote Berry in early September, correcting him that the 4 percent funds would be withheld from dance participants “when the other Indians are paid.” Moreover each dancer would not “receive his money until he has given his word of honor to the Superintendent that he will not again indulge in either a ghost dance or a give-away dance at or near the Kiowa reservation” or the same dances “called by some other name” (Kracht 2012, 290–91).112 Stinchecum reported to Sells in early December that he had withheld the 4 percent funds from approximately ninety individuals, then requested permission to proceed further. According to his plan, those who voluntarily came to his office to sign an affidavit “that they will not in the future attend or participate in either the Gift or Ghost Dance” would receive the shares of Indians who do participate.113 Merritt approved Stinchecum’s scheme and requested “the names of the Indians from whom funds were withheld and when they have signified their intention not to participate in such dances.”114 In early January 1917 Stinchecum submitted another list, this one with 109 names of those whose monies he had withheld that fall. Among the names were some well-known Kiowas: Humming Bird, Kiowa Bill, Adongky (White Buffalo), Konad (White Buffalo), Henry Poolaw, George Mopope, Bert Geikauma (Crow Lance), White Horse, Frank Given, Red Buffalo, Charlie Buffalo, Silver Horn, Guy Quoetone, Conklin Humming Bird, Max Frizzlehead, Glen White Fox, Edgar Keahbone, Lewis Toyebo, Little Joe, and Kiowa Jim Tongkeamha. Ironically, although John Whiteman had fled his allotment to elude punishment, his name also appeared on the list.115 Twothirds of the 109 blacklisted dancers were under forty years old (Kracht 2012, 292– 93; Young 1981, 237). Based on the names on the lists, the dancers probably participated in the Ghost Dance west of Carnegie THE GHOST DANCE 137

that Weiser Tongkeamha witnessed, especially since his father’s name appeared on the list. Attrition undoubtedly caused many of the blacklisted dancers to visit Stinchecum, for by May 17 fifty-one had signed the affidavit.116 Noting discrepancies in names between the two lists compiled by Stinchecum, Merritt requested an updated list.117 In July Stinchecum admitted that the list contained errors since many Indians had several names, confusing the agency farmers who did not identify Indians by their “roll name.” Thus he submitted a new list “divided by tribes, showing the Indians from whom shares were withheld.” The updated list identified seventy-nine Kiowas (fifty-four men and twenty-five women): forty-four had signed the affidavit, and thirty-five had not (Young 1981, 236). Among the holdouts were Joseph Poolaw, Frederick Satepeahtaw, Ned Tofpi, Kiowa Bill, Chatkehoodle, Lily Maunkee, Red Buffalo, Nellie Jones, Ralph Poolaw, Carlisle Kodaseet, Gwoompi, Frank Given, Saumty, Rose Saumty, White Buffalo, Tanetone, Bert Geikauma, Walter Kokoom, Silver Horn, Joe Doyeto, and White Horse.118 Notably thirteen of the sixteen Kiowas over fifty years old did not sign the affidavit, including Red Buffalo, age seventy-three, one of the dance leaders (Young 1981, 236–38; Kracht 2012, 293). Red Buffalo Hall, where indoor dances are held today at the Kiowa Complex, was named in his honor. Stinchecum’s antidance campaign all but ended the Ghost Dance in 1916, though some evidence suggests that the dance continued in abbreviated form. During LaBarre’s interview with Tsoodle, George Hunt, his interpreter, said that the Ghost Dance “stopped in the ‘Armistice year’ (1918).”119 Years later the 1929 Frank Rush Fair near Medicine Park featured performances of the Ghost Dance and War Dance each night in front of the grandstand (Young 1981, 282). By this time the dance had lost its religious significance and was relegated to a tourist attraction. Nevertheless Ghost Dance songs survived into the post–World War II era. Marian Kaulaity Hansson told me that in the 1950s Kiowa elders sometimes sang Ghost Dance songs at the conclusion of regular powwow dance programs.120 When I visited Rev. John Tsatoke in 1987, he played an eerie-sounding Ghost Dance song on a reel-to-reel tape recorder that had been recorded in the 1950s.121 138 THE GHOST DANCE

On separate occasions I discussed the Ghost Dance with Dorothy Tsatoke Gray and Henrietta Tongkeamha (1912–93); both agreed that early twentieth-century Kiowas were confused by rapid culture change, and the Ghost Dance was their version of Christianity.122 Marriott’s anonymous informant pointed out that the revived Ghost Dance was performed “not to bring back the dead, but just as a religion. Before the ghost dance they never heard of the messiah.”123 Undoubtedly the Ghost Dance served as a stepping stone toward conversion, for many former Ghost Dance devotees became Christians after 1920. In fact the seven Ghost Dance songs that Henrietta Tongkeamha played in early 1991 sounded like Kiowa church hymns, with references to “God in Heaven” and páhôdlk’i, “man with long hair,” or Jesus, living in the clouds: (1) I will come in the midst of clouds, And you will all see me. (2) Father pray and I will come. Mother pray and I will come. I will come from the heavens, And God will be with me. (3) I am your God in Heaven. I will wipe away all your tears. I will bring peace in your soul. (4) Grandma awaken me Because the clouds will move, And the earth will shake. Grandma awaken me, The world will shake, And it [Judgment Day] will happen. (5) Father, I am glad I am alive. I am living under the clouds. Because of God I am living. I am beneath the clouds on the grass. (6) I am glad I will see hereafter. I will see this man again, And I will see eternal home. I will touch men [reincarnation] again. THE GHOST DANCE 139

(7) Think about it, think about it. When you become a member of the Ghost Dance, You will be made happy. Songs 4 and 6 are Judgment Day songs, and song 7 is a membership song. According to Henrietta, singing these songs at meetings emotionally moved the participants, compelling them to dance until they fell into trances, a behavior she compared to modern-day Christians, who often become emotional when the spirit moves them (Kracht 1992, 470). The Ghost Dance waned as the War Dance—in various guises, including the O-ho-ma Dance—persisted. Perhaps the Ghost Dance was permitted to die out in order to convince Stinchecum that he had won a major antidance victory, while clandestine performances of the War Dance occurred on private allotments because this dance undoubtedly was more important to the Kiowas (Kracht 1992, 471). Clifton Tongkeamah told me about O-ho-ma Dances that occurred on Kiowa Jim Tongkeamha’s allotment thirteen miles south of Carnegie before 1927, and Alice Littleman mentioned dances on the White Buffalo (Konad) allotment west of Anadarko.124 Because non-Indians did not understand Indian dances, which usually featured giveaways, any tribal or intertribal dance involving the transfer of property was perceived as a Gift Dance. Hence the O-ho-ma Dance assumed this label because it was the most popular Kiowa dance. The Kiowa spirit for dancing could not be quelled, as exemplified by the thirty-five who did not sign Stinchecum’s affidavit. Significantly four of these were the original members who obtained the O-ho-ma Dance from the Cheyennes (see Boyd 1981, 68): Little Joe, White Buffalo, Red Buffalo, and Silver Horn. Refusing to sign the affidavit symbolized their affinity for the War Dance, which would evolve into various forms during the post–World War I era. Punitive enforcement of antidance policies ended by the time John Collier became Indian commissioner in 1933. That the War Dance survived the previous era of cultural genocide is evident in Alice Marriott’s description of a four-day dance and giveaway ceremony that occurred during the summer of 1937. Marriott, the first woman to receive an anthropology degree from the University of Oklahoma, began ethnographic fieldwork among the Kiowas in 1935 and maintained relationships with her Kiowa 140 THE GHOST DANCE

friends until she passed away in 1992. Housed in the Western History Collections with her field notes, Marriott’s manuscript “Kiowa Give-Away and Dance” provides rich details of the festivities that began on July 14.125 In accordance with Plains customs of gift giving, the dance was conducted at the home of George Tsoodle to entertain Otoes, Pawnees, Poncas, and Osages visiting from the “Pawnee jurisdiction” in northcentral Oklahoma. Some Comanches, Plains Apaches, and Chiricahua Apaches cohosted the event. Marriott wrote that the Otoes and Kiowas were “numerically superior to the other tribes.”126 Preparations for the dance involved mowing a pasture designated as the campsite and dance ground, framing arbors, and building a “central dance structure.” Marriott described the encampment and dance arbor: The camp was pitched in a circle, the site selected being a large level field, with a stream running along its east edge, enclosed on the west and north by low hills, but open to the prevailing south winds. An opening was left on the east side, as in the old Sun Dance camps, but in this case a larger opening was left on the south, more visitors being expected than were able to make the trip. The central structure, the dance arbour, was erected west of the middle of the field, and bore some resemblance to the old Sun Dance lodge. It was a circular enclosure, about a hundred feet across, open on the east, a double row of poles was set about the circumference of the circle, the space—about six feet—between them thatched with brush, and benches set in the shade to accommodate the spectators. In the centre of the circle a flag-pole was set up, without ceremony, four days before the beginning of the dance. On each morning of the celebration a large national emblem was brought in from the east side of the camp and was raised on the pole.127 The arbor she describes is smaller than the one seen today at the Kiowa Gourd Clan July Fourth dance. Raising an American flag each morning was undoubtedly a holdover from earlier practices of conducting dances during patriotic holidays to appease the agency superintendents. The circular encampment was composed of extended family clusters of tents and brush arbors, though Marriott counted three tipis. MoreTHE GHOST DANCE 141

over she noted that although “the old bands have almost passed out of existence, and some of the younger people are ignorant of their own band affiliations, some survival of the old groupings was to be observed in the camping by families.” Each family brought in its supply of water from a nearby well, and visitors were expected to eat at least one but usually two meals a day with host families. When guests arrived, they constructed willow-framed arbors in the camp. Aside from dancing, surviving members of the Kiowa warrior societies performed civic duties, making announcements, extending hospitality to guests, and policing the encampment.128 On the first day of dancing the flag was raised before sunrise and after breakfast on subsequent mornings. As the flag was hoisted, everyone saluted, Kiowa and Otoe prayers were offered, and everyone sang the national anthem in English. Afterward women visited in the family camps while the men congregated under the dance arbor. A noon meal was served, and around 2:00 the Brush Dance—formerly performed during the construction of the Sun Dance lodge—was staged “primarily for the older people.” Very few of the younger dancers participated. Members of the Daimpega Society participated in the afternoon dances on the first day, as had been their privilege when the Sun Dance was performed. Every day upon the conclusion of the afternoon dancing, a Hand Game was played with equipment supplied by the visiting Otoes. At sunset younger dancers aggregated under the arbor for evening dances dimly illuminated by a “rather unsatisfactory and undependable” Delco lighting system. Most of the dancers were young men, except for a few older men and women.129 During the nighttime dance the drummers sat on the west side of the arbor, with a bench of dancers seated between them and the center flagpole. Most dancers wore a “union-suit-feather bustle combination,” probably double bustles, which were popular among Fancy Dancers. Marriott remarked that there was “a great deal more variety” in the types of dances performed and that the War Dance was “subordinated to some of the old dances,” which suggests that the older style of dancing represented by today’s Gourd Dance and Straight Dance dominated over the faster-paced Fancy Dance. Most dancing occurred in groups, though Stephen Mopope, considered the best dancer at the time, sometimes 142 THE GHOST DANCE

performed a solo dance. Around 11:00 p.m. the “more formal dances” gave way to “forty-nine” (’49) dancing, a newer dance form in the Southern Plains possibly dating back to the 1870s, though Marriott thought “it may possibly be an offshoot of the first Ghost Dance movement.” She attributed this “rather scandalous” dance to the “breaking-down of the old dance forms.” Marriott described the dance: “Men form a circle, with the women forming a concentric circle outside the first group. The dancers face inward, clasping the hands of those on either side of them, and each circle moves clockwise, with a side-ways step, around a central point; in this case, the centre pole. At the beginning of the dance only the drummers sing; later, as the music and movement becomes faster, the dancers join in the singing. The songs are frequently of a mildly salacious character.” Today’s version of the ’49 also ends at dawn and still carries the stigma of licentious affairs in the phrase “forty-nine babies,” which Marriott claimed was equivalent to “camp-meeting babies” in the “mountaineer white” population.130 During the second day of dancing a member of the host family pledged a beef to feed the guests on the last day of the celebration. Numerous visitors not living in the camp circle began arriving early in the morning of the last day. Singing began at 1:00 p.m., followed by dancing an hour later. Many dancers were adorned with “beads, silver, and feathers,” but the final afternoon “was a positive fashion-show of old costumes, many of them superlatively fine. The purpose was avowedly the display of heirlooms, and the outdoing, in dress, of other families.” Kiowa women wore buckskin dresses with a “vivid shawl” wrapped around the waist and a blanket or shawl draped over the shoulders. Some women sported the “apron,” a recent innovation, whereas others donned satin or silk taffeta dresses with aprons of a contrasting color, complemented by a shawl or blanket. Some women preferred these lightweight dresses to buckskin. Kiowa men either wore buckskin suits or outfits of bright-colored silk shirts and handkerchiefs, trousers, moccasins, beaded belts and medallions, topped off with Stetson hats. Red-and-blue woolen blankets, popular among Peyotists, were worn around their shoulders. All the Otoe men likewise sported the Peyote blankets as part of their dance regalia.131 Afternoon festivities were highlighted by two families that gifted the Otoes with horses. In both instances a horse with blankets and shawls THE GHOST DANCE 143

laid across its back was led into the dance arena, mounted by a child being honored by the family. From a microphone in the center of the circle, the grandfather of each child welcomed the guests, trusting that they had enjoyed their visit, and encouraged them to return. When the recipient was summoned, he came into the arena and lifted the child off the horse and led it away. Gifts of “blankets, shawls, household goods, food, and money” were given afterward. Another giveaway was sponsored by the widow of one of the last Buffalo doctors. Assisted by female relatives, she laid bundles of dry goods on the ground, then they sang the mourning song while everyone listened. Upon the conclusion of the song, the camp caller announced the death, giving the English but not the Kiowa name, of her husband in accordance with the Kiowa custom of never mentioning the name of the deceased. Family members then opened the bundles and distributed the gifts. Dancing concluded the afternoon festivities, dinner was served, and the “evening give-away was punctuated by dancing and singing.” Like the previous three nights, the last day ended with the ’49 dance.132 Throughout the four days of festivities the Kiowas frequently apologized to their guests for the delay in sponsoring a giveaway dance and for the dearth of goods, as ten years had passed since they had visited the Otoes and returned with seventy horses. Despite the timing and disparity in goods, the Otoes did not begrudge their Kiowa hosts. One Otoe told Marriott he understood that the 1927 dance in the Pawnee jurisdiction was before the Great Depression, “when people had more things to give.” Significantly everyone understood “that each family had given of the best available, and that many sacrifices had been necessary to make the celebration possible.” As Weiser Tongkeamah once said, old-time giveaways earnestly involved “giving until it hurts.”133 Marriott believed that “the celebration marked the transition of a religious rite into a purely social one.”134 By the end of the twentieth century the War Dance and giveaways would become integral parts of tribal and intertribal powwows, social dances with some sacred elements (Kracht 1994). In contrast, the Ghost Dance was “put away,” as described by Raymond Tongkeamha, who believes that certain “roads” should not be brought back or tampered with once they’ve ended, especially the Sun Dance and Ghost Dance. He told a story about his father, Weiser, who 144 THE GHOST DANCE

was working on a large ranch south of Carnegie in the late 1950s. One day he came home early, telling Henrietta that he was “hurt bad.” Apparently he had been hammering a horse shoe on a railroad tie anvil when a piece of iron detached from the horseshoe, ricocheted, and lodged deeply in his eye. Unfortunately it was too deep to retrieve, so he had poor vision in that eye the rest of his life. Years later Weiser admitted that he had made a mistake that day because he was singing a Ghost Dance song while working. Though he was fond of singing old songs, this song, like the Ghost Dance, should be left alone.135

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3 Christianity and Peyotism in the Postallotment Era The “opening” of the reservation on August 6, 1901, marked the beginning of the postallotment era in which KCA Indians lived on individual allotments, engulfed by non-Indians who homesteaded “surplus” lands. During the early decades of the new century, Christianity gradually gained momentum, as conversion is a “process over time,” not a singular occurrence (Rambo 1993, 5; Lampe 2010, 81). Conversion always involves “rupture,” or the disassociation with indigenous traditions (Lampe 2010, 79; McAlister 2016, 123; see Marshall 2016), so the new converts were indoctrinated to reject Peyotism, the Ghost Dance, the War Dance, and indigenous customs, which led to conflict between Christians and those who adhered to indigenous beliefs and followed the Ghost Dance and Peyote religion. Nevertheless Christianity slowly diffused as missionaries took the gospel to remote parts of the KCA jurisdiction. Newly formed congregations participated in “cottage meetings” at various homes or gathered at camp meetings and Christmas encampments until enough money was raised to build churches. Although allotment was supposed to foster independence, KCA peoples in the postallotment era were still under the supervisory care of Indian agents, now called superintendents. Until John Collier became Indian commissioner in 1933, Indian Office personnel and politicians regarded American Indians as wards of the government who needed guidance in their social, economic, political, and religious affairs. Federal Indian policy was still influenced by the friends of the Indians, who by the turn of the century had adopted more businesslike methods typical of early 147

twentieth-century Progressivism; cultural evolution, Victorian uplift, and romanticized notions of a soon-to-be-lost past inspired their doctrine. The friends ardently believed that, with their assistance, Indians could be remade in the image of Anglo culture . During this period politicians, Indian Office personnel, educators, and missionaries condemned American Indian customs deemed detrimental to their assimilation into mainstream American society; agency superintendents commonly monitored social and religious gatherings (see Prucha 1984, 759–89; Olson and Wilson 1984, 49–106; Hoxie 1988, 205– 49). Despite this climate of cultural intolerance, Peyote gained popularity and spread beyond western Oklahoma to other tribes. Like the Ghost Dance, the Peyote religion was targeted for eradication. Proposed anti-Peyote legislation, however, was thwarted twice by the pro-Peyote lobby of Natives and anthropologists. The Peyote religion endured, though new battles would be fought in the post–World War II era. Christianity in the Postallotment Era After the opening four mission schools operated within the KCA jurisdiction, three of which were located near the Anadarko Agency: Mary Gregory Memorial Mission Boarding School (Presbyterian), four miles east of Anadarko; Methvin Institute Boarding School (Methodist), immediately south of the agency reserve; St. Patrick’s Mission Boarding School (Catholic), approximately one and a half miles southwest of Methvin Institute; and Cache Creek Mission Boarding School (Reformed Presbyterian) near Apache.1 By statehood the two Protestant schools near the agency had deteriorated after losing financial support from the government (Methvin n.d.a, 88). Methvin Institute was the first to go as the town expanded next to the school property, located in the modern 300 block of West Kentucky (Bell et al. 2001, 9). The threat of losing the mission school to the encroaching town compelled Methvin to apply for a land patent in 1907, but instead the patent in fee was issued to the Women’s Board of Missions of the Methodist Church South on January 30, 1907. Opposed to supporting a school with declining enrollment, board members decided to divert mission funds to needier projects within the jurisdiction. Subsequently the property was sold to four Anadarko businessmen for $45,000 on 148 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

September 25, 1908, then the school grounds were subdivided into lots that surrounded the vacant school buildings, much to Methvin’s dismay (Methvin n.d.a, 88–90; Methvin n.d.b, 6).2 In contrast to Methvin Institute, St. Patrick’s Mission School—modern, larger, and better funded—continued to operate at full capacity despite the loss of government rations for the children. Unfortunately a devastating fire swept the mission compound on September 26, 1909, razing five of the seven buildings. The Catholic Church was dedicated to keeping the school open, so the students were moved to the abandoned Methvin Institute, which the Benedictine order rented for $60 a month while the campus was rebuilt. For the next eighteen months the old Methodist school was utilized until St. Patrick’s reopened on April 1, 1911 (de Hasque n.d., 24–25).3 The second mission school to close its doors was the Mary Gregory Memorial School four miles east of Anadarko, which had been run by the Presbyterian missionaries Silas and Anna Fait since 1892. Between 1901 and 1902 school attendance dropped from fifty to twenty-two students, so declining enrollment and deteriorating facilities contributed to its demise.4 A death blow was dealt to the school when the Bureau of Indian Affairs took over St. Patrick’s on December 1, 1911, and renamed it Anadarko Boarding School. Father Isidore and the Benedictine sisters were paid an annual rental fee of $400 to operate the school. Shortly thereafter the Catholic Church paid to have the facility upgraded when a mile-long pipeline linked the school to the Anadarko sewer system. Student capacity at the new government school was raised to 150 after improvements.5 Having lost most of his students, Fait was finally forced to close the school in 1911, when the land and building were sold and transformed into a poor farm (Bell et al. 2001, 11; Hume 1951, 115). Although Methvin Institute had been closed longer than Mary Gregory Memorial School, Methvin and Gassaway remained bitter for years about the passing of the old, dilapidated school that had served Indian students for twenty years (Methvin n.d.b, 6–7).6 Nevertheless it had fulfilled one of Methvin’s objectives: seeding Methodist congregations beyond Anadarko. Perhaps Methvin was accepting the changing times when he moved his residence out of the city limits sometime after 1906, abandoning the combination parsonage and church annex situated on POSTALLOTMENT ERA 149

two acres near the superintendent’s house. When Methvin retired in 1908, he remained involved in church affairs (Babcock 1941, 117). That year his replacement, Rev. T. H. Wood, suggested moving the mission to a more suitable location, though it remained abandoned in 1909 when Superintendent Stecker recommended tearing down the “very old and dilapidated” building, saying, “[It] only invites Indians of low character to assemble there and there is danger of fire.”7 On January 18, 1910, the mission was reoccupied by Rev. Charles W. Clay, who was replaced by Gassaway the following November. Pews were moved into the chapel and services were held the first Sunday of each month. Indians attending Sunday services camped on church grounds just south of the river, where the women prepared the noon meals. In the spring of 1913 Gassaway alleged that Stecker, annoyed by the unsightly mission building located about one hundred yards west of his residence, had the grounds adjacent to the mission plowed and cultivated, restricting the camping area to a mere fifteen-foot berm. By this time the Methodist missionaries considered moving the mission outside the city limits, closer to Indian homes and campgrounds.8 While the Anadarko mission was slowly going under, the Women’s Board of Missions spent some of the $45,000 from the sale of Methvin Institute to fund a day school near Mount Scott Church. The school, which operated from 1908 to 1911, was located east of the chapel erected in the summer of 1905 out of stones carried from the base of Mount Scott by Jimmy Quoetone, Luther Sahmaunt, and other Kiowa converts; the stone church replaced the original frame building constructed by Reverend Butterfield in 1894 (Corwin 1958a, 199; Twohatchet 1996, 10).9 The Methodists also sold the forty-acre parcel near Verden, east of Anadarko, and in 1911 the monies were reinvested in the construction of Cedar Creek Methodist Church on a four-acre tract two miles east and one and a half miles south of Carnegie. Another mission property sold by the Methodists was the dilapidated parsonage and chapel at Fort Sill near the Old Red Store, which had been abandoned by Rev. M. A. Clark and his family in November 1912, after most of his congregation transferred to a newly built Dutch Reformed Church adjacent to his mission. Monies from the sale supported the construction of a chapel near Hog Creek, approximately four miles southwest of Anadarko.10 Hog Creek Methodist 150 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

Fig. 7. Redstone Church, ca. 2007. Photograph by the author.

Church was built in 1913 and opened in 1914. Charter members included Harry Ware, Guy Ware, Enoch Smokey, and Charles Domebo. Gus Bosin, Lewis Ware, and Clyde Coco served as interpreters; Methvin, Gassaway, and Andres Martinez were the preachers.11 After the opening there were three Baptist missions in Kiowa country: Rainy Mountain Mission, erected in 1894 about six miles southwest of Mountain View; Elk Creek Mission, built in 1894, four miles south of Hobart; and Saddle Mountain Mission, built in 1903, nineteen miles southeast of Mountain View.12 Around this time members of the Saddle Mountain Mission wanted to sponsor a mission in the Washita Valley, west of Anadarko, where converts worshiped in their homes. In 1905 a church was constructed in the Redstone community, six miles west of Anadarko and two miles north of the “Apache Wye,” where modern highways 9 and 62 conjoin (Hume 1938, 423). In 1910 a dining hall and parsonage were completed. Revs. George W. Hicks and H. H. Clouse were the founding ministers; Kiowa deacons were David Paddlety, Linn Ware, Barefoot, George Mopope, and Jesse Redhorn. In 1916 Rev. Harry H. Treat—the first minister at Saddle Mountain Mission between 1907 and 1913—took POSTALLOTMENT ERA 151

over the mission. Redstone has often been referred to as the “Bleeding Church” due to the red spot on the front wall and because of the red hues of the native stone accentuated by rain. Between 1935 and 1937 the original structure was demolished and replaced by a new church that was completed and dedicated in 1938, according to Rev. David Sullivan.13 That Christianity spread after the demise of the Ghost Dance is evident in a 1929 newspaper article written by Rev. Frank L. King, pastor at Rainy Mountain and Elk Creek churches between 1920 and 1937. Interviewed for a newspaper article promoting Indian missions, King described a “remarkable evangelistic movement” sweeping through Kiowa country beginning around 1926, when young Christian converts began conducting “cottage prayer meetings or home prayer meetings,” resulting in the conversion of “scores of souls.” King described the meetings: They were held just any place and at any time. There was no regularity as to time or place. There was just one thing uppermost in the minds of the workers. Get the man for Christ at whatever cost of time or money or effort it may be. With this spirit under full sway I have known of as many as five prayer meetings in one night under way with an estimated attendance of from 150 to 200 at all these meetings. The sessions of each meeting were from three to five and sometimes six hours without a stop. Prayers, Bible readings, experiences with the Lord, singing, oh, such wonderful singing, with exhortations to the weak and unsaved. These young people go to a home and literally besiege a young person; they compel him to accept Christ, if such a thing is possible.14 By 1929 the meetings had “taken on some definite form” in that they were held only once or twice a week. On Sundays King usually announced to his congregation where upcoming meetings were to be conducted, although he and his wife could not attend too many of them since they sometimes lasted until after midnight. Nevertheless King was encouraged by the enthusiasm shown by the new converts.15 His description of singing refers to English hymns from printed books, gospel songs, and hymns rendered in the Kiowa language. Kiowa hymns date back to the early Baptist and Methodist mission churches, and the songs were conceived by individuals who were moved by the message of the new gospel. 152 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

Today one can listen to hymns in Kiowa, Cherokee, Creek, Chiricahua Apache, and other languages in “tribal-specific” churches throughout Oklahoma. As the noted singer Ralph Kotay (1927–2008) pointed out, Kiowa hymns are sung for reasons of thanksgiving, healing, or sorrow and at baptisms, birthdays, and funerals (Lassiter 2002, 74–79). In his 1930 annual report Superintendent John A. Buntin identified missionaries from six Christian denominations “looking after the spiritual welfare of the Indians” in the KCA jurisdiction: Catholic, Mennonite, Reformed Church of America, Presbyterian, Baptist, and Methodist. With the exception of children educated at the Anadarko Boarding School, operated by the Benedictine order, most Kiowa churches were Baptist or Methodist. Buntin reported that during the previous year the Methodists had been most active in expanding their missions, building a new church at Cedar Creek, another in Cyril among the Comanches, and a third located one and a half miles west of Stecker, a railroad community thirteen miles southwest of the agency. Stecker was a “thickly settled Indian community” inhabited by members of the Kiowa, Plains Apache, Comanche, and Fort Sill Apache tribes. Notably Buntin observed that many Indians had “united with churches of the white people throughout the country,” which is difficult to believe, since Kiowa churches were mostly segregated.16 Kiowa churches distinctively maintain their identity today through community and kinship ties (see Ellis 2002, 61). One thing that annoyed the missionaries was the difficulty they had convincing the Kiowas to live in houses instead of tents and tipis. Despite numerous complaints to the agency superintendents about the tipi and tent communities that formed during dances and other social gatherings, the missionaries could not prevent Christian converts from aggregating into week-long encampments for revivals and during the Christmas holidays. During interviews I conducted in 1987, Kiowa elders gleefully related their memories of camping near Saddle Mountain Church, Redstone Church, and Hog Creek Church at Christmas time. Shortly before Christmas, army tent communities formed outside the churches, and the next week was highlighted by visiting, feasting, and gift giving inside the chapels on Christmas Eve. The children particularly enjoyed themselves because they were given candy and other treats, and the elders told many stories. Sleeping platforms inside the tents allowed the celPOSTALLOTMENT ERA 153

ebrants to stay comfortably warm. Christmastime encampments were among their favorite childhood memories.17 Similar stories were told to Clyde Ellis (2002, 62). Despite cultural differences, stories abound about conversions to Christianity during the postallotment era. Lavena Tongkeamha Pewo (1936– 2009) related how her grandfather Kiowa Jim Tongkeamah, a prominent member of the Native American Church, became a Christian following the death of his son Frank in 1925. When Frank became terminally ill, Kiowa Jim set up a Peyote tipi, but his condition worsened. Frank was taken to the hospital, where he went into a coma. Shortly before his death he briefly gained consciousness and claimed that he had traveled to heaven, where he saw God. Exclaiming, “That’s what I was looking for! I found it!,” he convinced his father to change his ways and convert to Christianity. Since Frank was the ɔde (special) son, Kiowa Jim quit the Peyote religion and became a deacon at Saddle Mountain Baptist Church. Weiser, Frank’s younger brother, also gave up the Native American Church. Both were members of the O-ho-ma Society but quit dancing out of respect for Frank. (Kiowa Jim’s family song is still performed at the annual O-ho-ma Society dance in July.) Shortly afterward some Otoes and Pawnees traveled from northern Oklahoma to the Tongkeamha allotment south of Carnegie to ask Kiowa Jim to hold a Peyote meeting, but he refused to meet with them. Weiser was sent out to inform them that his father refused to conduct a meeting. When they requested that he at least give them information about the Peyote rite, he sent them away, saying that he did not want to mislead them. From that day on, the Tongkeamah family have been steadfast members of Saddle Mountain Church.18 Like other converts, the Tongkeamhas focused on churchcentered activities (see Ellis 2002, 62). A story told by Libby Botone Ahtone (1917–95) relates how her father, Matthew Botone (1896–1961), an ardent Peyotist who held tipi meetings on his property, converted to Christianity when he observed his wife, Hazel Lonewolf (1898–1986), hitching up the horse and wagon to take their children to church during a blizzard. Impressed that there must have been something to the Christian faith for her to go through the heavy snow to church, Matthew converted to Christianity shortly thereafter and began attending church. The preacher was so glad to see 154 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

Matthew in attendance he asked him to pray, but Matthew was reticent. According to Libby, Hazel “had to pray to save the day!” In the 1930s and 1940s Matthew attended Cedar Creek Methodist Church.19 Today Botone Memorial Methodist Church, approximately five miles southeast of Carnegie on Indian Road, honors this Christian convert. That some Christian converts were former members of the Native American Church created some friction between the two religions. Charley Apekaum related in 1935 that these religious differences “put the Kiowa into two classes and there’s a faction in there. They don’t like to associate with each other.” Like many Kiowa youths during the postallotment period whose parents converted to the Jesus road, Apekaum was compelled to follow the strict teachings of the missionaries, who urged converts to stay away from other “roads,” especially those related to war dancing, Peyotism, and the Ghost Dance. Christian teachings emphasized that children were supposed to honor their parents by not participating in non- Christian activities. Reflecting on his childhood, Apekaum said, “Our parents took us to dances until we became members of the Methodist Church, and then we didn’t go so much” (quoted in LaBarre 1957, 14, 6). To illustrate the pressures put on those who followed the roads opposed by the Christians, Apekaum answered the following question posed by LaBarre (1957, 140): “Did you ever dance the Indian Dances?” No, I danced at school when I was at Haskell. We played three days baseball in western Kansas. . . . And while we were in a little town playing, each night we danced, Ohomo dance. There was about seven, about eight different tribes of Indians on that ball team and we, those three nights, we dance[d] before a full house out there before the grand stand. That was the first and the only time that I danced the Ohomo dance. I had seen several dances. When I just become big enough to take part in such ceremonies my father belonged to the church, about the time I was getting old enough, and he went only to the Methodist Church and only occasionally we went to a dance. He didn’t approve of dancing. He didn’t use peyote for a long while, and he quilt peyote for a while, and that’s the reason I didn’t do any dancing. He always attended all the quarterly conferences, and all the camp meetings. And POSTALLOTMENT ERA 155

Christmas time when the Indians gather at their respective churches for several days, maybe a week. Apekaum shows that before World War II, Christianity influenced the daily lives of those who followed the Jesus road. Missionaries expected converts to leave traditions they perceived to be demoralizing and improper for Christians, including powwows and Peyote. During the prewar era, missionaries constantly preached against the Native American Church, which often created tensions between followers of both religions (Ellis 2002, 64, 52). The Peyote Religion in the Late Reservation and Early Postallotment Era Thomas C. Maroukis (2010, 59– 60) posits that the Peyote religion became popular in Oklahoma and spread to Indian communities and reservations throughout the United States and Canada because of three factors: (1) Peyote was seen as a “medicine,” a gift sent by the Creator to help humans deal with illness; (2) the Peyote religion aligned with indigenous beliefs and practices; and (3) Peyote taught a spiritual and ethical lifestyle. All three factors contributed to the increasing popularity of Peyote among early twentieth-century Kiowas. When the non-Indian world first heard of the Peyote religion in the mid-1880s, the nascent all-night tipi ritual performed in the Mount Scott community was still in its formative stages. After the turn of the century, however, the Peyote rite diffused to different tribes (Swan 1999, 4; Maroukis 2010, 130–45) and continued to evolve as indigenous and Christian elements were incorporated into the increasingly popular nativistic religion. Christian syncretisms undoubtedly resulted from missionary influences, but perhaps more so due to the pressures exerted against the religion by the friends of the Indian, who were typically well-intentioned, albeit misinformed about realities in Indian country. Kiowas, like other Indians, were innovative when it came to protecting religious and cultural expression during the postallotment period. By 1887, as the nascent Kiowa- Comanche Peyote ritual spread to Rainy Mountain Creek, new symbols were incorporated into the religion. Undoubtedly influenced by missionaries who came to the reserva156 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

tion in the 1880s, the Twelve Disciples of Peyote conducted meetings like Quaker services that featured testimonials and preaching. Syncretisms from indigenous times included buckskin attire, feathers, and face paint; the use of feathered fans and eagle wing-bone whistles; practices from former ceremonies, including a Fireman who sat by the door of the tipi and kept the fire going all night; clockwise passing movements; retention of the number 4 and the four cardinal directions; sage and cedar incensing of the body and paraphernalia; the consumption of food; and all-night meetings. Indigenous Kiowa powers, like Stars, Moon, and Morning Star, were addressed in prayer, but newer concepts, perhaps representing Christian-Kiowa syncretisms, appeared, such as Domdɔki, “Earthcreator” or “Earth-lord.” Smoking Bull Durham tobacco rolled in cornhusk papers, a trait linked to practices in the Southwest, replaced praying with long-stem pipes. Some of these elements were also borrowed from the transitional Mescalero Apache ceremony and Huichol-Tarahumara practices in northern Mexico. LaBarre especially noted similarities between Mescalero and Kiowa beliefs in prophesy, divination, and sorcery that were incorporated into the Kiowa-Comanche Peyote ritual. Analogous to the former practice of sponsoring Sun Dances, Peyote meetings were now pledged to give thanks when family members recovered from illness or to ensure the well-being of children. During the early years of the Peyote rite, predawn doctoring ceremonies were less important than shamanism and vision seeking, but as the religion spread, the healing powers of Peyote became the purpose for conducting meetings. Shamans, using hollowed-out cow horns (formerly buffalo horns), employed the sucking technique to extract foreign objects injected into a victim’s body through shooting magic. Doctoring became a salient feature of Peyote meetings. In February 1987 Gus Palmer Sr. discussed pilgrimages to the Peyote gardens near Laredo, Texas, to seek the dɔdɔ of this sacred medicine in its natural habitat. Gus said his wife, Alice Tenadooah (1919–2006), was the only child of Henry Oliver Tenadooah (1882–1966) and Minnie Domah (1886–1971), because their other infants kept dying from sickness. Conversely Tenadooah’s sister had numerous children, so she suggested they travel by train to the Peyote gardens to run a prayer meeting to ensure a successful pregnancy for Minnie. Before cutting a Peyote butPOSTALLOTMENT ERA 157

ton from its taproot, she prayed that Henry would have many children, then instructed him to use this particular button as his Father Peyote when running meetings. Afterward Alice’s siblings, Vivian and Betty Lou, were born in 1928 and 1931, respectively. Gus attributed their miraculous births and survival to the medicine powers of Peyote.20 Anti-Peyote Campaigns In his 1886 annual report to the Indian commissioner, Agent J. Lee Hall made the first official reference to Peyote use by “the Comanches and a few of the Kiowas” on the KCA Reservation, commenting, “They secure the tops of a kind of cactus that comes from Mexico, which they eat, and it produces the same effect as opium, frequently putting them to sleep for twenty-four hours at a time.” Since Hall perceived an increase in “habitual” Peyote use, he wanted the Indian Office to declare it contraband (see Stewart 1987, 128).21 Two years later, in his only annual report, Special Agent E. E. White wrote, “Many of the Comanches and Apaches and a few of the Kiowas have become addicted to the use of a fruit . . . of a cactus. . . . Its common name here among the whites is mescal bean.” White claimed that eating the “fruit” or “beans” “not only makes physical wrecks of them in a short time, but it destroys their mental faculties as well.” Maintaining that extensive Peyote use among the Comanches caused fear among local non-Indians, White issued a written order “forbidding any Indian to use the beans or have any in his possession.” After several complaints from Comanche Peyotists, White rescinded the order with the understanding that they would abandon the Peyote rite once their current supply was consumed.22 Confusing the Peyote cactus with the mescal bean and expressing a desire to suppress Peyote use were trends that would continue for the next fifty years (Stewart 1987, 128; Maroukis 2010, 6–7). Also during the summer of 1888 Reverend Methvin witnessed a Peyote ceremony in a Comanche encampment southeast of the agency. Fearing that the sound of an “Indian tom-tom beating . . . all night” signaled illness, Methvin followed the music shortly after sunrise to “a special medicine teepe [sic]” from which resonated the rhythm of “a wild discordant song.” Two of Quanah Parker’s wives greeted Methvin, then quickly ushered him inside, where he sat among the men and espied Quanah— 158 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

resplendent in his finest buckskin suit, his face painted in bright colors and his two braids wrapped in beaver skin—sitting on the west side of the tipi, next to the “medicine chief.” Quanah smiled at Methvin and told him the Great Father had given Peyote to the Indians as he had given the Bible to Anglos, then suggested that they worshiped the same God and that both ways were good (Methvin n.d.a, 67–70). Unimpressed, Methvin later likened the Peyote rite to a drug habit: The peyote drug habit has become the adopted religion of the Indian and has in the last few years spread so fast that it is corrupting wellnigh all the Indian tribes and some whites. Like any other drug habit, it fixes its grip, and once the habit is formed, the addict is seldom ever recovered. The beautiful sights and sweet music that soothes the addict under its influence is but the protest of optic and auditory nerves lashed into quickened vibrations by this hurtful drug. It is understood that its indulgence is what sent this famous Comanche chief [Quanah Parker] prematurely to his grave. (70) Methvin’s biased and uninformed opinions reflect the anti-Peyote sentiments shared by most friends of the Indian during this period, as well as some Indians. In 1889 Agent W. D. Myers compared “mescal” to “morphine, opium, or alcohol habits” plaguing whites, then labeled it a stimulant that transformed users into “slaves.”23 Appended to Agent George Day’s 1892 annual report was a letter submitted by Methvin condemning “mescal-eating” as a common practice he wanted abolished.24 Methvin was also upset that James Mooney—referred to in his writings as “a representative of the Smithsonian Institute”—attended Peyote meetings between 1891 and 1894. Clearly the most outspoken Peyote adversary on the KCA Reservation, Methvin blamed Mooney, a Catholic, for encouraging the Indians to practice the poorly understood religion (Methvin n.d.a, 70; Forbes 1985, 71; Moses 1984, 85; Ellis 2002, 36). Besides Mooney, who carefully and respectfully documented the Peyote religion, most non-Indians stereotyped Peyote as a habit-forming stimulant, narcotic, or hallucinogen and often alleged that all-night Peyote meetings were accentuated by sexual immorality (Maroukis 2010, 120). POSTALLOTMENT ERA 159

Friends of the Indian who joined the anti-Peyote crusade also attributed the spread of diseases in Indian encampments to the use of Peyote and lamented that the ceremony possessed malevolent powers to transform even Carlisle graduates into indolent pagans. Ultimately these unfounded claims became fodder for discussions circulating through the network of various “Indian defense” organizations whose members exercised lobbying power resulting in the formation of congressional subcommittees and anti-Peyote legislation between 1908 and 1918 and again in the 1930s (see Maroukis 2010, 103–29). The first attempt to outlaw Peyote appeared in 1899, in Section 2652 of a statute passed by the Territory of Oklahoma that prohibited transportation and usage of the “mescal bean.” Enforcing the law became ambiguous, however, since Peyote was confused with mescal, a totally different plant. Anti-Peyote legislation was introduced to the 1907 Oklahoma Constitutional Convention by the Cheyenne-Arapaho superintendent Charles Shell and Chief Special Officer W. E. “Pussyfoot” Johnson, employed by the Indian Office to curb liquor traffic in Indian lands. Despite their concerted efforts to ban Peyote use in the new state, members of the legislature were on the Indians’ side, largely because Quanah Parker charmed them with his wit and intelligence and because Peyote obviously did not prevent him from being a successful cattleman (Stewart 1987, 131–38, 216; Swan 1999, 18–19). Eloquent speeches by Indians from other tribes, including Kogaitadal (Lean Elk) and James Waldo (Kiowa), also impressed the politicians (Moses 1984, 136–38). Photographs from the convention reveal the Kiowa, Comanche, Plains Apache, and Cheyenne delegates in attendance. Among the Kiowa lobbyists identified in one photograph were Ä′piatañ, Lone Wolf, Pahkotoquodle (Lone Man), Sankadota, Delos K. Lonewolf, Max Frizzlehead, Komalty, Codsy, Ned Brace, and Satemotay (Bear Paw) or George Hunt, who served as interpreter (Stewart 1987, 137, fig. 8; Swan 1999, 18, fig. 1.18; Kavanagh 2001, 898, fig. 10).25 Undeterred by the Peyotists’ victory, Shell and Johnson continued to harass them. Shell even experimented with Peyote, and though he found nothing wrong with it, he criticized the ceremony as a “cloak with which to cover this species of intoxication.”26 In April 1909 Johnson traveled between the Texas towns of Eagle Pass and Laredo, crossed the border, 160 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

and trekked forty miles west to the Mexican villages of Torrecillas and Los Ojuelos, where he purchased 176,400 Peyote buttons from five Peyoteros in Mexico and two Peyote distributors outside Laredo in an attempt to buy out the available market; all the buttons were destroyed (see Stewart 1987, 138–39; Swan 1999, 19; Maroukis 2010, 40).27 KCA Superintendent Ernest Stecker (1908–15) differed from Shell and other Indian Service employees. According to Omer Stewart (1987, 141), he was somewhat tolerant of Peyotists in his jurisdiction since he did not know of any ill effects from Peyote use. Stecker told Commissioner Robert G. Valentine in February 1910 that Peyote was accessible to Indians “just as liquor reaches men in a prohibition country” and that during the most recent annuity payment he had talked to a number of his constituents and informed them they could use Peyote “only in case of necessity” and with his permission: “I feel satisfied that by authorizing its use, in a medicinal way, we will keep the practice under control without exciting the older Indians, and as they pass away the use of peyote will gradually pass away with them. It is only their relig[i]ous belief in its medicinal qualities that keeps it in use and before the younger members of the tribe.”28 Valentine, however, disagreed: “You should, as far as practicable, prevent the use of this bean for all purposes.”29 Stecker was aware of Peyote’s popularity because of its reputation as a medicine, though contrary to his wistful speculation the Peyote religion did not disappear with the elders. Not to be outdone by the Protestant friends, Catholics joined the antiPeyote crusade. In March 1911 Rev. William H. Ketcham, director of the Bureau of Catholic Indian Missions, complained to Interior Secretary Walter L. Fisher about the “serious evils” imposed by the “mescal habit.” Sharing information that he had received from his Protestant counterparts, Fisher stated that Peyote use, analogous to opium addiction, was “a greater menace to the Indians than even whiskey.” Ketcham scoffed at the idea that many Peyotists abstained from alcohol: “I presume that this is the only instance of one evil supplanting another.” He then admonished Valentine for not banning the “mescal bean.”30 Later that summer Elsie E. Newton, an Indian Service field inspector, arrived at the same conclusion after interviewing field matrons in Oklahoma; she reported to Valentine, “Among the Cheyennes and Arapahos, the Osages, the Kiowas and Comanches . . . the practice is widespread.” Newton learned that PeyPOSTALLOTMENT ERA 161

ote “recruited the idle and the vicious,” thereby creating an environment wherein family and farm were neglected and where “school children became stupid.” Though Newton applauded the sobriety of Peyotists, she criticized them for using a “drug known to be deleterious in its effects, physiologically,” and condemned Peyote use along with “the practice of the medicine man.” Encouraged by the February 1911 death of Quanah Parker, “one of the prime leaders in the movement,” she thought it was an “excellent time” to send an anti-Peyote bill to Congress.31 These letters are indicative of anti-Peyote correspondence, in which most information was based on rumor and hearsay. False accusations and stereotypes about the Peyote religion also permeated the literature published by anti-Peyote lobbyists between 1912 and 1916. Articles intending to damage the reputation of Indian Peyotists appeared in magazines like the Southern Workman, the Indian School Journal, the YMCA Bulletin, the Indian’s Friend, and numerous other Indian defense group periodicals and pamphlets featuring disparaging reports about the dangerous “narcotic” Peyote.32 One of the most popular articles was “Mescal: A Menace to the Indian,” by Rev. George Watermulder, an adaptation of his address presented at the October 14–16, 1914, Lake Mohonk Conference of the Friends of the Indian in New Paltz, New York. Watermulder concluded his address with an “appeal” from Quanah Parker’s oldest daughter supporting the eradication of the drug she believed killed her father (see Stewart 1987, 217).33 After Watermulder’s presentation, an anti-Peyote resolution was adopted. Following the meeting George Vaux, chairman of the Board of Indian Commissioners, recommended to Interior Secretary Franklin K. Lane a bill prohibiting the transportation and use of Peyote in the United States, which led to a special Board hearing on Peyote in Washington, DC, in February 1915.34 Mooney attended the hearing to testify on behalf of the Peyote religion, adding to his unpopularity for supporting Indian causes (Moses 1984, 192–93). Mooney gained another enemy when Charles V. Stinchecum (1915– 22) became KCA superintendent on April 1, 1915.35 Shortly after assuming control of the agency in Anadarko, Stinchecum corresponded with a fellow Indian Service employee, Special Officer Henry A. Larson of Denver, whose official title was “chief [of ] liquor suppression.” Both shared a concern for the “peyote matter”; they understood that working within 162 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

the limits of the law was difficult, yet they still conspired to suppress the flow of Peyote into western Oklahoma.36 In January 1917 Stinchecum described the extent of Peyote use within his jurisdiction: My impressions lead me to believe that about half the tribe under the jurisdiction of this agency use peyote and mescal. This drug is used more or less at certain so called religious meetings, which ordinarily are held on Saturday night. I believe that there is hardly a Saturday passes but what several of these meetings are in progress. In cases of serious illness, these meetings are also held on week days. Those present sit up all night and eat the peyote, usually from four to twenty-five during the night. The habit is not confined to the old or the young, as Indians of all ages indulge therein. However, most of the leaders are old men and are known as peyote chiefs.37 Stinchecum and Larson were unable to control Peyote use since there were no anti-Peyote laws, yet they continued to “seize and destroy large quantities” from the Laredo Peyoteros.38 Meanwhile anti-Peyote lobbyists proposed the Gandy bill to Congress in 1916, which would have prohibited the transportation and sale of Peyote to American Indians, though the legislation failed in both the House and Senate. In October the anti-Peyote debate was slated for discussion at the annual Lake Mohonk Conference—the last one ever held. Mooney had been invited to attend by the conference secretary, though a mishap at the New Paltz train station compelled him and his son to go back to Washington, DC, leaving the sessions without a Peyote advocate (Moses 1984, 196–97). Failing again at the federal level in 1917, anti-Peyote lobbying carried into state legislatures when anti-Peyote laws were passed in Utah, Colorado, and Nevada prohibiting the sale or possession of certain drugs, including Peyote (Maroukis 2010, 115–16).39 Passage of these laws prompted the introduction of the Hayden bill to Congress in early 1918, which proposed to suppress liquor and Peyote trafficking (Moses 1984, 200; Stewart 1987, 217–18). In February and March 1918 the Hayden bill was discussed at a House Subcommittee of Indian Affairs hearing, where testimonies pro and con POSTALLOTMENT ERA 163

were presented. One anti-Peyote document was prepared by Dr. Claude S. Chambers (Cherokee-Anglo), the agency physician in Anadarko. His statement represents the usual anti-Peyote attitudes and misconceptions about Peyote, albeit from a learned man of American Indian heritage: 1. [Peyote] lowers their vitality and their power of resistance to any exposure they may have to undergo. 2. In using it the Indians are always in a hot tent, breathing foul air, etc. 3. Peyote has first a stimulating and later a depressing effect on the heart. 4. I know of a number of cases of sexual intercourse of Indians while under the influence of the drug. 5. I know of nine babies dying because of the administering to them of peyote by some medicine man.40 Fortunately for the KCA Indians and other American Indian Peyotists across the United States, the Hayden bill met the same fate as the Gandy bill, largely through the pro-Peyote lobby of Mooney and Indian Peyotists who testified at the subcommittee hearing on behalf of the Peyote rite (Moses 1984, 200–204; Stewart 1987, 217–24; Swan 1999, 19–20). Among the testimonies was a petition signed by fortyfour KCA Indians; over half of them were Kiowas, including Belo Cozad, Jim Ahtone, Sam Ahtone, Howard Sankadota, Jack Sankadota, Homer Buffalo, Bert Geikauma, Kiowa Charley, Big Joe, Little Joe, Apekaum, and Smotah Frizzlehead. Their letter to the U.S. House Committee of Indian Affairs stated: Gentlemen: We, the undersigned members of the Kiowa, Comanche, and Apache tribes of Indians, having been informed that a bill has been introduced in Congress prohibiting us from the further use of Pe-yote, an herb which we have used as a tribal medicine at our annual meetings, as a certain tribal ceremony. We believe that the taking of this has caused no harm to us, our fellow tribesmen, or the white man, but causes us to have a good feeling for our fellow man. This custom has been handed down to us through more than 100 years, and is a part of our religious faith, and if prohibited, might result in the introduction 164 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

of more harmful drugs or narcotics. We therefore pray that you take no action on this proposed measure at this time.41 The reference to having a “good feeling for our fellow man” supports Aberle’s (1982, 318–20) interpretation of the Peyote religion as an “expressive,” or “redemptive” movement in which the participants seek peaceful reconciliation with the dominant society (Jorgensen 1972, 6–7). Despite the defeat of the Gandy and Hayden bills, anti-Peyote sentiments did not subside. According to Charley Apekaum, Mooney attended a Peyote meeting at the home of Albert Cat near the Slick Hills south of Carnegie sometime in 1918 and told the participants they needed to organize and get a charter, suggesting the name Native American Church (LaBarre 1957, 31–32). Heeding Mooney’s advice because they anticipated further harassment, representatives from the Cheyenne, Arapaho, Otoe, Ponca, Comanche, Plains Apache, and Kiowa tribes met in El Reno, Oklahoma, on October 10, 1918. Fourteen officers, two from each of the seven tribes, were chosen; Kiowa Charley and Delos K. Lonewolf represented the Kiowa “Local Church.” Significantly they drafted Articles of Incorporation for a new religious organization: the Native American Church. Nine articles describing church organization and functions appeared in the charter, including Article II, which likened Peyote to a sacrament, and stated that Christianity was inclusive of the Peyote religion: The purpose for which this corporation is formed is to foster and promote the religious belief of the several tribes of Indians in the State of Oklahoma, in the Christian religion with the practice of the Peyote Sacrament as commonly understood and used among the adherents of this religion in the several tribes of Indians in the State of Oklahoma, and to teach the Christian religion with morality, sobriety, industry, kindly charity and right living and to cultivate a spirit of self-respect and brotherly union among the members of the Native Race of Indians, with the right to own and hold property for the purpose of conducting its business in services.42 Needless to say, incorporating as the Native American Church infuriated the friends of the Indian, especially the missionaries and POSTALLOTMENT ERA 165

Indian Service employees in western Oklahoma. Since the missionaries drew “boundaries around and between religions as systems” and perceived Christianity as a “well-bounded system” (McNally 2000, 845), they disdained the references to Christian syncretisms in the newly chartered Native American Church. Among the malcontents was Stinchecum, who complained to Indian Commissioner Cato Sells, blaming Mooney for consulting with the Peyotists and teaching them how to produce their own bureaucratic red tape. Stinchecum’s letters and telegrams to the Indian Office prompted Sells to contact the secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, which led to Mooney’s removal from Oklahoma in November 1918. Mooney, a hero to the pro-Peyote Indians, was banned from visiting Oklahoma again and died shortly before Christmas 1921, after two futile years of trying to return to Oklahoma to visit his Indian friends (see Stewart 1987, 222; Moses 1984, 206–21).43 In the wake of Mooney’s death, anti-Peyote sentiments persisted among the friends of the Indian. Pussyfoot Johnson, now director of the World League of Alcoholism, still campaigned against Peyote, as evidenced by an article he submitted to the New York Times in 1923 criticizing the “agitator” John Collier and his friends, whom he called a group of “half-baked philanthropists stuffed like toads with grotesque misinformation” and who defended Indian customs. Johnson believed that when Peyote, a “highly narcotic cactus,” was consumed in a communion-like fashion, it created “about the same narcotic effect as cocaine, though it produces visions like opium.”44 Johnson’s article found its way to members of the Indian Rights Association but in 1923 was secondary to Commissioner Charles H. Burke’s issuance of Circular 1665 authorizing superintendents to suppress Indian dances.45 Newspaper and magazine articles in the 1920s continued to condemn Indian Peyote use, as did missionaries, members of Indian defense groups, and Indian Service personnel. State laws outlawing Peyote were passed in 1923 in Arizona, Montana, and North and South Dakota, leading to some arrests for transporting Peyote, though the laws did not deter its use (Stewart 1987, 227–30; Maroukis 2010, 117–18). Always aware of negative publicity, members of the Central Conference of the Native American Church met six miles west of Anadarko on October 14 and 15, 1932, 166 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

to discuss the “false and untrue claims and exciting and inflamatory [sic] pictures, cartoons and writings against the Indians and against our religion and religious purposes.” Responding in particular to a damning anti-Peyote article that appeared in the Daily Oklahoman, the following statement was prepared by the NAC: Peyote is not a narcotic, it is not a stimulant. Peyote has a very mild soothing effect, similar to a good comfortable meal, or the eating of lettuce or onions and milk in the sense of resting and relaxing the nerves. To claim that it produces intoxication and excited or depressed state of mind or the nerves is not true and we denounce all such articles not only as untrue but vicious in purpose. We further declare that while our religion, our faith and our practices may not rise to the dignity that the white man would prescribe for us, they do embody the simple faith of a simple native people who live in conscious realization that God is our Father and he intends us not only for this life but for the life to come. That he gave his only begotten Son, Jesus Christ to be our Savior as well as the Savior of the white man. We adopt the great principles in the prayer and the great lessons which he gave to us as a teaching. We have given to the white man many healing drugs and remedies. We have not taught him the use of liquor nor profanity as he has taught us. In his native state no Indian ever profaned the name of his God. What he knows about that his white brethren have taught him. Intoxication is unknoan [sic] to all of our native practices. The use of morphine and opium and other narcotics are also unknown to us. In literature we are far behind but in spirit of love and reverence and in faith, we believe we are the white man’s equal.46 This written statement shows how the beliefs of the Peyotists were aligned with Christian doctrine and that Christian elements were syncretically fused into the Peyote religion. LaBarre (1938, 166) had written, “Peyotism is their last strong link with the aboriginal past, which others are trying to destroy.” Thus Christian elements—simple syncretisms— were undoubtedly incorporated into the Native American Church in part to defend the religion from anti-Peyote lobbyists. POSTALLOTMENT ERA 167

Such a defense was effective when the friends launched another anti-Peyote campaign in the mid-1930s, despite the issuance of Commissioner John Collier’s Circular 2970 on January 3, 1934, which proclaimed that American Indian religious ceremonies and dances would no longer be harassed. In early February 1937 Senator Dennis Chavez of New Mexico introduced Senate Bill 1399, which proposed restricting interstate transportation of Peyote. Collier immediately rallied against the bill, soliciting expert testimony from biologists, anthropologists, and Indians. Weston LaBarre and Donald Collier, son of the Indian commissioner, submitted documents defending the Peyote religion.47 LaBarre was in the final stages of writing his dissertation in early April 1937, when he submitted a collaborative report including pro-Peyote testimonies by noted anthropologists, including Franz Boas, Alfred L. Kroeber, Ales Hrdlicka, J. P. Harrington, and Vicenzo Petrullo, and the ethnobotanist Richard E. Schultes. (LaBarre and Schultes had collaborated the year before.) In his testimony LaBarre specified that he had attended two meetings each among the Kiowas, Otoes, Kickapoos, and Wichitas, and he identified Christian syncretisms in the Peyote ritual: “the singing . . . [of ] special peyote songs, many of which are modified from verses in the Bible”; “sometimes a ceremony is held in the morning resembling Christian baptism, when all go out of the tipi to greet the sun”; “in many meetings the Bible is read from and preached from, and the cult constitutes a sort of Indian Christianity.”48 Boas even stated that “peyote has been one of the means which has facilitated the transition from primitive beliefs to an amalgamation with Christianity.”49 Hence Indian Peyote worship was analogous to Christianity, according to the defense. Given LaBarre’s testimony, perhaps the Peyote religion could be viewed as a vignette of Christianity (see McNally 2000). Vicenzo Petrullo (1934), author of the pro-Peyote book The Diabolic Root and a member of the Coordinating Committee of the Works Project Administration, nicely summed up the syncretisms in the Peyote religion: The religious cult built around the Peyote represents, on analysis, an attempt on the part of our Indians to adjust themselves to modern

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conditions and to bridge the gap that exists between their ancient cultures and the modern American. In the doctrines of the Peyote cult, we find that they have incorporated many of the ancient religious forms and all of the fundamental Christian precepts which, incidentally, were present in the ethical traditions of the Indians. Because, through mystic leaders, they have accomplished the feat of creating a religion which fuses native and European elements, the new doctrines offer to the Indians a means of maintaining a link with their ancient cultures, at the same time that they become modern in their viewpoint.50 Finally, based on her fieldwork in Oklahoma in 1929–30 as associate research advisor for the Works Project Administration, Elna Smith appropriately lambasted the critics of the Peyote religion: Those who indulged in vitriolic diatribes against the “pagan cult” and ascribed serious moral as well as physical consequences to the ceremonial consumption of the cactus were always generalizing from a few—sometimes only one which upon closer investigation turned out to be based on hearsay or a deliberate falsification or misrepresentation of the facts. At that time and later during a year and a half association with the Office of Indian Affairs which took me to many different Indian reservations I was impressed with the colossal ignorance of most white people regarding the real properties of the peyote plant and the nature of the religious ceremony that has been built up around it.51 Adherents of the Peyote religion, now unified as the Native American Church, survived yet another battle, although the anti-Peyote campaign would briefly resurface in the early 1960s and early 1990s. To this day Kiowa Peyotists recall the history of the harassment of the Peyote religion and how their ancestors defended their religious rights to conduct prayer meetings in the sacred tipi without outside interference. Like the keepers of personal and tribal medicine bundles, contemporary Peyotists are reticent to discuss their religion with outsiders.

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The Peyote Rite in the 1930s Between 1891, when Mooney first documented the Peyote rite, and 1938, when LaBarre published his dissertation as The Peyote Cult, some changes occurred in the Kiowa variant of the Half Moon rite. Extant Kiowa accounts of the Native American Church from the 1930s include Charley Apekaum’s renderings to LaBarre (1957) in the unpublished manuscript “Autobiography of a Kiowa Indian.” In his autobiography Apekaum recalled his childhood near Mount Scott, where his father, Sankadota, and Silver Horn were among the early Peyote users. Apekaum related that in 1890, when he was two, his father fed him Peyote when he was sick and that he attended a meeting run by Silver Horn around 1900. For years he did not attend Peyote meetings until after World War I, when Max Frizzlehead held a meeting to welcome him back home; afterward he attended meetings on a regular basis since many of his relatives had vowed “to put up a peyote meeting” if he safely returned from overseas. Apekaum became an active participant in the Native American Church and attended several meetings a week in the summer of 1936 with LaBarre and Schultes during their study of Peyotism among thirteen tribes (LaBarre 1957, 1a, 24, 27, 31). Other information from the 1930s derives from the Kiowa artist Monroe Tsatoke’s (1957) posthumously published book, The Peyote Ritual, in which some of the innovations and syncretisms are discussed. Regarding earlier customs incorporated into the Peyote rite, LaBarre (1938) noted that “several older Kiowa patterns parallel Peyote usages,” for instance, the Roadman sitting on the west side of the east-facing tipi; “lieutenants” posted on either side of the doorway; the smoking ceremony; and a sage “stage.” Nevertheless he warned against “naive particularistic explanations” since multiple tribal elements were fused into the Peyote religion. Sweat baths taken before tipi meetings evoked memories of sweats taken before departing on war expeditions or healing ceremonies, and LaBarre felt that the widespread practice of “sweat bath doctoring” as well as the presence of men’s societies among Plains tribes were conducive to the rapid diffusion of the Peyote religion (45n, 112n). LaBarre also observed that, analogous to preservation practices, Kiowa Peyote meetings were pledged, just like the Sun Dance. Meetings were typically held to commemorate children’s birthdays, to heal the sick, to 170 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

celebrate recovery from sickness, or just to celebrate well-being. Since 1918 “holiday meetings” were introduced for New Year’s Day, Easter, and Thanksgiving. Armistice Day meetings were held following the safe return of Kiowa soldiers. Unlike other tribes, the Kiowas did not practice funeral meetings. As Charley Apekaum pointed out, those in mourning did not attend Peyote meetings until the mourning period ended several months later (LaBarre 1938, 43n).52 In The Peyote Ritual, Tsatoke (1957, 4) listed “appreciation meetings” for those recovering from illness, doctoring meetings where the sick were “medicined,” and meetings “in memory of important days, or in honor of the new moon, or for the future that it may be good in certain ways, so that evil may be eliminated.” By the 1930s women were allowed to attend Peyote meetings, although a woman still brought in the water at sunrise, and women also served the ritual meal (LaBarre 1938, 51–52). Piety and emotional outbursts during prayers occurred in the Peyote rite as in Christian rituals, practices that still occur today. LaBarre (1938, 50) described how Kiowas prayed during breaks: “At intervals older men pray aloud, with affecting sincerity, often with tears running down their cheeks, their voices choked with emotion, and their bodies swaying with earnestness as they gesture and stretch out their arms to invoke the aid of peyote. The tone is of a poor and pitiful person humbly asking the aid and pity of a great power, and absolutely no shame whatever is felt by anyone when a grown man breaks down into loud sobbing during his prayer.” In his defense of the Peyote religion in 1937, LaBarre described Christian syncretisms in Peyote rituals, but when The Peyote Cult was published the next year, he emphasized the absence of “Christian elements” in the Kiowa-Comanche ceremony, pointing out that Peyote-Christian symbols were more common in the Otoe ceremony introduced by Jonithan Koshiway, the John Wilson Delaware rite, and in other versions of the Peyote ceremony where the Holy Trinity was blended with the altar (LaBarre 1938, 162– 66). LaBarre then recounted a Kiowa doctoring meeting he had attended where “the name of Jesus was mentioned in prayers with unwonted frequency.” Other syncretisms that night included making the sign of the cross beneath the water bucket during the midnight water break and passing the ritual cigarette in the motion of the cross during the Midnight Song. LaBarre perceived these performances were “proPOSTALLOTMENT ERA 171

paganda” for his benefit (163n), then warned the reader: “It should be reiterated that on the whole, despite the apparent and superficial syncretism with Christianity, peyotism is an essentially aboriginal American religion, operating in terms of fundamental Indian concepts about powers, visions and native modes of doctoring” (166). Despite LaBarre’s contention that there were few Christian elements in the basic Kiowa Peyote rite, sponsoring Peyote meetings on national holidays suggests that the notion of holidays in Christian churches and boarding schools had some influence over the KCA Indians (though native religions also marked events and seasonal cycles). Armistice Day meetings reflect that Kiowas respect returning warriors, whereas meetings on Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day suggest thankfulness for life itself. Having meetings during Christmas and Easter are Christian syncretisms. For reasons unknown, LaBarre recorded several Peyote-Christian syncretisms in 1935 but omitted them from his monograph. For instance, Tsoodle said that prior to the influence of Christianity, Peyote was addressed as “father,” but after the arrival of the missionaries, Christ was referred to as “father” and Peyote as “brother” in some meetings.53 Perhaps LaBarre sought to write about a “pure form” of the Peyote religion and saw Christianity as a later taint. LaBarre’s downplaying of Christian syncretisms in the Peyote rite and his insistence that the elements of the religion were indigenous is supported by Tsatoke’s (1957, 6–7) rendering of the ritual and identification of the three gods prayed to during tipi meetings: Do-moi-ung-daki, or “the earth god, sometimes known as mother”; Be-ger-daki, or “Spirit god—sometimes Sun God”; and the “In Between God,” or the “messenger god.” Various prayers to the Earth Mother were rendered: “Mother, look upon me and have mercy. May our Indian life prosper and be better in the future”; “Take my life and nourish me. Look after me and give me the right food for my life. Take me back again after my one life is over.” A prayer to the Spirit God requested, “Watch over me and save my spirit.” The In Between God, represented by the cormorant, or messenger bird, “joins the Earth and Spirit Gods” with prayers of the supplicants: “Pity me and guide me on the right road for my life.” Tsatoke found that there are “thousands of prayers” to supplicate the “unknown mystery” (7, 9). Hence the Native American Church retained many indigenous elements 172 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

and a few Christian syncretisms. Significantly ritual is highly adaptive across tribes and cultures. As mentioned earlier, many Kiowas opposed the nascent Kiowa- Comanche Peyote rite because they believed that the true tribal beliefs were embodied in the Ten Medicines, which were even older than Taime. (A parallel can be found in Navajo rejection, then acceptance of the Peyote religion.) By the 1930s, however, the two systems were more compatible, according to Tsoodle, who kept one of the Ten Medicines bundles.54 Charley Apekaum commented on the differences between the two religions: No, you can’t connect those two together [the older religion of the Ten Medicine bags and peyote]. They’re altogether different. You both, pray in both places and get results. They get some results through the Ten Medicines and also through the peyote. But the Ten Medicines the way they pray seems like it’s stronger, more systematic, more power in some way. While in peyote it’s easy, anybody could take [part], seems like the rules aren’t so strict. You could break some rules and get by for a while. But the Ten Medicines are more respected. They [the bundle keepers] can offer you a pipe and you’ll have to smoke it and agree, while the peyote don’t have a pipe—don’t have the same kind of authority seems like. (LaBarre 1957, 166– 67, his additions) By Apekaum’s era certain traditions connected with the Ten Medicines had amalgamated into the Kiowa Peyote rite. For instance, cedar incensing during the sweat bath for the Ten Medicines became a purification rite for worshipers and their fans during Peyote meetings. Apekaum, however, seemed ambivalent about combining the two religions: Yeh, they [the Ten Medicines] are mentioned in there [peyote meetings] sometimes [by the owners] and sometimes the other boys mention it. But that isn’t the proper way to pray to them in a peyote meeting, because the peyote is a recent thing [while the Ten Medicines go back in theory to the founding of the world]. It has a different rule altogether. When you pray to the Ten Medicines you have to build a sweat lodge or else take something you want to give, to sacrifice. Some of them think it isn’t proper to call on the Ten Medicines because they should POSTALLOTMENT ERA 173

pray to the Ten Medicines the way it’s supposed to. I don’t know if it’s right or not [to invoke the Ten Medicine bags in peyote meetings]. (LaBarre 1957, 168, his additions) Apekaum suggested there were different opinions regarding the presence of the medicine bundles in Peyote meetings. Nevertheless he remarked that there were several Peyote songs that invoked assistance of the Ten Medicines, then sang one (LaBarre 1957, 68). Although LaBarre suggested that doctoring was secondary in the incipient Kiowa- Comanche rite, doctoring meetings were frequent in the 1930s, and he even sponsored one himself! Sanko described a doctoring meeting north of Mountain View. The patient was positioned south of the doorway, and the Peyote doctor cured him by brushing out the sickness as one would “sweep out dust” and by making him eat Peyote during the meeting.55 Gus Palmer Sr. remembered that the nearly blind Yellow Wolf was a notable Peyote doctor in the 1930s.56 Apekaum identified Jim Ahtone as the most powerful doctor and related how he cured a Shawnee woman: Another case was a Shawnee woman. They asked Jim Aton [Ahtone] to doctor her in a meeting. This happened to her after the death of her husband. She imagined people peered in the window at night. It bothered her and she had spells, about one a day, she’d fall over to her side and would be under those spells for about five minutes or more, and she just thought she would get all right but she delayed so long it was hard to cure. She went to white doctors and got no relief. She tried Indian doctor. Jim doctored her in peyote meeting. She paid him what he asked. So during the night she got a spell and crawled on her hands and knees to the peyote, reached her hand toward it and prayed to it and asked for help. She even got up and jumped over the fire. But no one became excited; she sat down and quieted down. Couldn’t tell if Jim said it did her some good. When her husband died, he left her some medicines as keepsakes. She kept this in buckskin tied on her. And I heard she got cured of that. She was really in bad shape, bad condition. . . . Spent nearly all they had trying to cure her. (LaBarre 1957, 13) 174 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

Peyote doctors were paid, just as shamans had been compensated in former times. The person requesting a meeting approached the doctor with seven articles, usually including a black handkerchief, Indian perfume, and red earth paint. They were renowned for curing numerous afflictions, especially facial paralysis (Bell’s Palsy), rheumatism, and pneumonia. Jim Ahtone was famous for curing the first two illnesses. During a meeting around 1930 among the Shawnees in northeastern Oklahoma, Ahtone cured a Creek man pained by rheumatism. The afflicted man had tried Anglo doctors, had languished in Hot Springs, Arkansas, health spas, and was in so much pain that he was brought to Ahtone in an ambulance. He was carried into the meeting on a blanket and situated south of the entryway, where Ahtone fed him Peyote and employed the sucking technique. By morning the man felt better, sat up, and exited the tipi without assistance. Happy with his recovery, he paid Ahtone handsomely; that doctoring session produced several Creek neophytes (LaBarre 1957, 13, 113–14). Numerous accounts relate how Peyote doctors cured pneumonia. Apekaum described how cow horns were used to suck the bad blood from an incision made with a jagged piece of glass above each nipple, and how the sufferer regained full breathing after the poison was extracted. He also treated pneumonia but claimed that anyone could perform the technique (LaBarre 1957, 87), analogous to the emergency room surgical procedure thoracostomy. Technically the puncture wounds drain out the fluid that accumulates in the pleural cavity of the lungs—a secondary infection—causing severe chest pains. Apekaum described a case he treated: Now, one of our grandchildren . . . took pneumonia, so they went after the Indian doctor—went after Jim Aton, to doctor this sick girl. But he had been doctoring somebody else for several days and was tired, so he didn’t go. So . . . came to our house and said, “We got to do something,” and asked me if I couldn’t go over there, using my horn sometimes like I do, and suck the blood out of his daughter. I said yes I would. So we went to their home and arrived there about eleven o’ clock in the night, and whenever we arrived there she was really in a bad condition—her breath was just cutting short. And so I got some POSTALLOTMENT ERA 175

glass, I got an old beer-bottle, brown beer-bottle. I broke it up and got the sharpest one I could find and I took my horn and the sinew, I chewed the sinew. And a smaller person is harder to suck because she don’t know where the pain is coming from. I felt her around, asked her where it was hurting. She didn’t know for sure. So I took the glass and cut a few places on her left breast, placed the horn there and commenced to suck and I took some blood out. And I sucked her behind, right there [opposite] and took some blood out there. Then I took on this [other] side here, and on the back—four places to be sure I had it. We left the house about ten o’ clock. . . . We arrived home late. Next morning we went back to see her again, and Jim Aton was there then. But she was, she became well. (LaBarre 1957, 162– 63, his additions) Unfortunately the girl languished in her condition for about a month following the first doctoring episode, prompting follow-up treatment: She wasn’t well for a month, and I used to give her peyote tea, different parts of the day I’d give her a spoonful. She didn’t play, sit around. She wants to play, but she didn’t have no pep. One day I was going out on a little trip and it’s the first time she ever showed any sign of wanting to go anywhere. So they took her out. So we was going to buy some chickens, about ten miles west. So we took this little girl with us. She had been taking peyote, and while we was going the jar of the car made her want to throw up, and she did throw up matter, greyishbluish matter. I stopped my car and I told the girl’s mother and my wife to hold her head and let her throw up all she could. We waited there about half an hour, when we returned home she felt like eating, and from then on that girl commenced to get well, recover. She had all that in her system. (LaBarre 1957, 63) This case demonstrates that Peyote was seen as a medicine (Maroukis 2010, 59– 60), in this instance administered in tea form and as a purgative. Analogous to the accounts collected by LaBarre, contemporary stories describing the curative properties of Peyote were related to me by Gus Palmer Sr., Patricia Ware, and a Peyote doctor who wished to remain anonymous.57 176 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

My favorite story of Peyote doctoring from this era was written by Betty Tanedooah Tongkeamah, who related how Old Man Blue Jay healed her in 1937 when she was a small girl. Blue Jay was a Ten Medicines keeper and “Indian doctor” (Boyd 1983, 12). One morning that summer, young Betty put on her shoes that had been left out overnight in the brush arbor, and she was bitten by a black widow spider that had crawled into one of them. After a while she became “sick with fever and convulsions,” so her father summoned Blue Jay, especially since the nearest Anglo doctor was at least seven miles away, a long journey by horse and buggy. When he arrived at her house, he immediately went to work: Old Man Blue Jay reached into his medicine pouch. Inside his pouch were different relics for other types of sicknesses. He sat at the foot of the bed where he found me in a coma. He began to cleanse the wound with warm water. Using a sharp flint, he made several small incisions around the wound and placed a cow horn with a hole at the top end, over the cuts he had made. He then used the horn as a suction to transport the blood and poison to the upper part of the horn. This ritual continued until Blue Jay was satisfied that all the poison was out. He began to chew some herbs which only the medicine man can keep at all times. After chewing these herbs he began gently blowing the herb saliva from his mouth all over me. With a fan made of six eagle feathers to keep the fever down, he continued his ritual through the night. The next morning I awoke to a bright sunny day. I had recovered miraculously. The Kiowa Indian Medicine Man had saved my life.58 Blue Jay employed traditional healing techniques adopted by Peyote doctors of the 1930s, including the sucking technique with a cow horn— replacing buffalo horns—and eagle-feathered fans to subdue her fever. LaBarre also determined that the power to become a Peyote doctor often came to men in visions, as Sanko told him. Sitting in a Peyote meeting one night, Sanko had a vision of a sick man lying south of the entryway with a shaman bent over him, sucking poison out of his chest. Contemplating his vision, Sanko knew he could become a Peyote doctor if he desired, but he refused to accept the power because “no Indian doctor is sure of his life if he does miracle work like that.” Sanko reasoned POSTALLOTMENT ERA 177

there was no danger in rejecting this healing power since Peyote visions were different from old-time power visions.59 Besides Jim Ahtone, Yellow Wolf, and Blue Jay, other shamans and their powers were identified by Lone Bear in 1935: Lone Bear, headaches and pneumonia; Tsoodle, children’s stomach ailments; Yego, swelling, rheumatism, tuberculosis, and sorcery; Páigya (Dr. Given, probably Frank Given), sorcery, eye trouble, and hemorrhages; Conklin Humming Bird, sorcery, pneumonia, head ailments, and swollen limbs; Polá, fever; Cornbread, hemorrhages; and Harry Hall (Zotigh), pneumonia and head ailments. All employed the sucking technique in their healing rites.60 According to Lone Bear and Haumpy, Tsoodle, Frank Given, and perhaps Blue Jay were Ten Medicines keepers, whereas Conklin Humming Bird was a Buffalo doctor.61 Similar to the shamans of the nineteenth century, Peyote doctors sometimes practiced sorcery, as related to LaBarre by Hunting Horse, White Fox, and Charley Apekaum. Gus Palmer Sr. described how his father, “Choctaw” Bill Palmer, a farmer in the Redstone community, was bewitched by Jim Ahtone in the 1920s or 1930s. Initial symptoms appeared as a film enveloping the eyelids, causing blindness. As the condition persisted, Ahtone approached Palmer, offering his assistance. Horses and other goods were rendered in exchange for treatment, although Palmer’s condition worsened, compelling him to attend a Peyote meeting, where he encountered Yellow Wolf. Taking the stricken Palmer aside, Yellow Wolf stated that the man he was paying to help him, Jim Ahtone, was actually practicing sorcery against him. Yellow Wolf took over treatment and subsequently restored Palmer’s vision. From that time on, Yellow Wolf was a welcome guest in the Palmer household.62 According to Apekaum, sorcery, failed attempts to cure, and bad visions often compelled individuals to become Christians (LaBarre 1957, 102). Sanko said he quit Peyote after converting to Christianity, and Tsoodle claimed he had a bad vision in 1901, which scared him into becoming a Baptist, at least for a while.63 Raymond Tongkeamha told me the story shared by his sister Lavena about their grandfather Kiowa Jim Tongkeamah, who became a Christian after a Peyote doctor failed to save the life of his son, Frank (see above). Frank’s near-death experience not only led to his conversion but convinced the entire family to join Saddle Moun178 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

tain Baptist Church.64 According to Kiowa notions of dɔdɔ, these stories suggest that Peyote was abandoned when it was deemed weaker than the powers connected to Christianity or less effective for that individual at that time. Hence new religions are often adopted when flaws are perceived in current traditions (Harkin 2004a, xxiii; Lepowsky 2004, 42; Glowacki 2011, 69). Conversely certain individuals switched back and forth between Peyotism and Christianity according to special circumstances. In some instances Christian converts occasionally attended Peyote meetings so they could worship in the Indian way, and some Christians frequently called on Peyote doctors for emergencies. Others quit drinking alcoholic beverages when they took up Peyote, but then slipped back into their old habits, causing them to leave the Peyote religion, whose adherents oppose alcohol abuse. Still others came back to Peyote because chronic illnesses like rheumatism bothered them and they found efficacy in treatment from Peyote doctors. Apekaum noted that households during this era were often divided between Peyotism and Christianity, contingent on the push-and-pull mechanisms of both religions (LaBarre 1957, 103, 164). In comparison, Thomas Spear (1999, 6–7) found in his study of East African Christianity that conversion is “a complex and protracted process” that includes a “wide range of possible shifts in religious affiliation.” Historically Peyotists throughout North America have maintained multiple religious affiliations (Maroukis 2010, 90–92), so it’s not surprising that Kiowa Peyotists occasionally attended Christian services. Many early twentieth-century Kiowas still believed that individuals could accumulate different medicine powers and did not adhere to the Christian notion that religions are mutually exclusive. To some, exclusion was illogical and they were not averse to following different traditions; Peyote meetings were attended by Ten Medicines keepers and Christian deacons. Stewart (1987, 81–83) identified some prominent Kiowa Peyotists who participated in Christian functions to some degree: Paul Sét-k’opte (Mountain Bear), one of the early converts to Methodism who assisted Reverend Methvin; Delos K. Lonewolf, who in 1923 was licensed to preach at Cedar Creek Indian Methodist Church, southeast of Carnegie; and Ä′piatañ, identified with other Peyote worshipers in a Smithsonian Institution photograph POSTALLOTMENT ERA 179

(Boyd 1983, 282), who spent the last weeks of his life with Andele and Methvin near his deathbed (Methvin 1931, 335). Apekaum pointed out that opposition to Peyote and the older tribal religions came from Christian converts who rarely went against the teachings of the Baptist and Methodist churches. The missionaries believed that Christians should not attend secular dances, and they preached against camping, dancing, picnics, Peyote worship, and any “pagan” or “heathen” practices conducted outside the church (LaBarre 1957, 6, 140, 159). Perhaps Christian anti-Peyote sentiments during the postallotment period resulted in some of the Peyote- Christian syncretisms already discussed, since simple syncretisms usually result when two religious systems come into conflict, as they did in Kiowa country at the turn of the twentieth century. In such contexts religious forms (ideology and material culture) of the dominant culture are adopted to mask or disguise indigenous practices. Given the anti-Peyote sentiments of the times, it is not surprising that Kiowa Peyotists incorporated Christian elements to make the Peyote rite seem more Christian. Through time, however, Christian beliefs fused into the Peyote religion, since complex syncretisms might occur later through “reinterpretation and elaboration” (see Houk 1995, 180–82).

180 POSTALLOTMENT ERA

4 Peyotism and Christianity after World War II American Indian participation in World War II was unsurpassed compared to other ethnic groups in the United States. Based on an estimated 345,000 American Indians in 1940, some 40,000 men and women left their rural communities to work in the war factories, and another 25,000 men served in the army, navy, air force, marines, and coast guard. Approximately one-third of all eligible men between the ages of eighteen and fifty served their country. Many Indians did not wait for conscription and volunteered for the military, which surprised non-Indians because Nazi leaders had predicted that American Indians would not defend the country that had relegated them to pauperism (Bernstein 1991, 35, 40; Prucha 1984, 1005– 6; Holm 1985, 150; Nash 1985, 129–30). Even before the war broke out, six Kiowas volunteered at the draft boards in Anadarko and Hobart: James Paddlety Jr., John Pershing Tofpi, Pershing Taylor, Harding Big Bow, Matthew Toyekoyah, and Louis Kodaseet.1 Among the Kiowas who fought overseas, four never returned home: Matthew Hawzipta, Joe Gouladdle, George Neconie, and Lyndreth Palmer died serving their country.2 Back home, Kiowas honored their fallen heroes while supporting those who served in the armed forces. On February 10, 1944, Kiowa Chapter No. 18 of the American War Mothers National Organization received its official charter. A service organization dedicated to the spirit of warfare and patriotism, the War Mothers kept alive the prereservation custom of women being in the forefront of encouraging and praying for the warriors. Originally organized in 1927 to support local soldiers, especially their sons, the War Mothers of the Kiowa Tribe of Oklahoma 181

was the second women’s society to organize in the twentieth century; the Kiowa Victory Club had been the first to form, during World War I.3 Led by Lizzie Ahpeahtone, president, and Sallie Kaulaity, secretary treasurer, the Kiowa chapter of the National War Mothers totaled seventy-one members in June 1944, indicating that at least seventy-one Kiowa soldiers were on active duty during the war.4 Large-scale involvement in World War II therefore helped revive the Kiowa warrior spirit and perpetuated women’s societies, which had been defunct since the reservation period. Economically World War II brought about an overall increase in cash income for Indians employed in wartime industries. Many left home to work in factories, shipyards, and machine shops and for railroads. Alongside military service, urbanization helped integrate American Indians into American society (Nash 1985, 135–36, 139). During the war Indians in the KCA jurisdiction left to obtain jobs in “California, Alabama, Connecticut, Oregon, Washington, Kansas, and all over Oklahoma,” especially in Lawton, Tulsa, and Oklahoma City.5 According to Richard Stumblingbear, most ablebodied men in southwestern Oklahoma left to fight or work in the cities.6 Kiowa veterans returning home after World War II had prayed to one or more power sources—God, Peyote, or the Ten Medicines—while serving overseas. Analogous to former practices, many pledged themselves to the powers responsible for their safe return. Homecoming tipi meetings were held for members of the Native American Church; others attended Christian services in homes or the Indian churches dotting the rural southwestern Oklahoma landscape; and some took offerings to the sacred bundles. In the decades following the war, new churches were established as Christianity spread. By the early 1960s the transition to a cash economy and out-migration to towns and cities brought further changes; Christians learned to respect and even appreciate powwows, and conflict with the Peyote religion was mitigated. However, it wasn’t until the end of the century that members of the Native American Church could worship without fear of persecution. Data concerning Peyote in the post–World War II era were mostly obtained from interviews with Gus Palmer Sr. in early 1987 and during subsequent field trips in 1993 and 2003. Gus was one of the last Roadmen to run meetings in the Kiowa language. Data about Christianity were also gathered from interviews with Christians. 182 AFTER WORLD WAR II

The Peyote Religion after World War II During Mooney’s 1890s fieldwork and subsequent observations of the Kiowa-Comanche Peyote rite, he maintained that four-fifths of the KCA Indians were Peyotists.7 In 1917 Superintendent Stinchecum estimated that half were Peyotists, and a 1922 BIA report determined that threefourths of the Indians in the KCA jurisdiction used Peyote.8 Alice Marriott mentioned that most people at the dance she attended on the Tsoodle allotment in 1937 were members of the Native American Church and that “the government’s attitude towards peyote, so noticeable in the early part of the year, seems, in general, to have been allayed.” She was referring to the anti-Peyote Chavez bill, proposed in the Senate to restrict interstate transportation of Peyote, that had recently been defeated.9 Altogether these sources substantiate the overall popularity of the Peyote religion during the early twentieth century. In contrast, approximately one-third of the KCA population was deemed Protestant in 1922 as Christianity slowly spread (Beaver 1988, 453). After World War II the number of Christians increased while the number of Peyotists decreased, perhaps due to the expansion of Christianity coupled with the steady out-migration of young Indians to cities and small towns; Peyote rituals most typically occur in rural areas (Stewart 1987, 319). In 1987 Richard Stumblingbear, Henrietta Tongkeamha, and Rev. John Tsatoke indicated that only a “handful” of people clinging to earlier traditions belonged to the Kiowa chapter of the Native American Church.10 In 2003 Gus Palmer Sr. stated that only three Kiowa Roadmen conducted meetings in Kiowa, including himself, Nelson Big Bow, and Joe Big Bow. He also said that younger people were not as interested as the elders in the NAC (see Bell et al. 2001, 159).11 Sadly all three Roadmen are all deceased. In 1944 the Native American Church, largely centered in Oklahoma, obtained a national charter by incorporating with chapters outside the state, becoming the Native American Church of the United States, and in 1955, with the incorporation of Canadian chapters, was renamed the Native American Church of North America. Differing opinions concerning membership led to factionalism within the organization by 1946, and in 1950 Oklahoma Peyotists formed a statewide organization, also AFTER WORLD WAR II 183

called the Native American Church. Today there are numerous chapters of the various Peyote organizations throughout North America, with perhaps as many as 250,000 members (Stewart 1987, 239– 44; Swan 1999, 21; Maroukis 2010, 146–51). Despite the splintering of the original Native American Church into regional chapters, Peyotists lobbied in the mid-twentieth century to overturn laws in several states that criminalized possession and interstate transportation of Peyote. Several court cases (Stewart 1987, 213–38; Swan 1999, 13–22; Maroukis 2010, 183–209) affecting the Native American Church merit attention. Since the natural range of the Peyote cactus is restricted to Webb and Starr counties in south Texas and adjacent lands in northern Mexico across the Rio Grande River, access to this sacred medicine is limited. Obtaining Peyote from Mexico has always been impossible due to laws prohibiting its possession and exportation. North of the border, several states passed laws outlawing the acquisition of Peyote from the Peyoteros, the dealers near Laredo. For instance, Texas passed the Dangerous Drug Act in 1937, though it was not enforced until 1953, when an established Peyotero was arrested. Legal defense provided by the Native American Church led to an agreement with the prosecuting attorney to convince the grand jury to dismiss the charges. Further lobbying by the NAC led to the exemption of Peyote from the Texas Narcotic Drug Act of 1954 (Swan 1999, 12). In another case, Mary Attakai (Navajo) was arrested in Williams, Arizona, on Peyote possession charges in 1959. Assisted by the testimony of the anthropologist Omer Stewart (1987, 305– 8), charges against Attakai were dismissed in Maricopa County Superior Court on July 26, 1960.12 According to one of the defense attorneys, Judge Yale McFate rendered “a beautiful opinion” regarding the sacramental use of Peyote.13 In his written decision McFate sided with the ritual characterized by “prayer and quiet contemplation,” backed by a doctrine founded in the “belief in God, brotherly love, care of the family and other worthy beliefs.” McFate identified Peyote as “a sacrament, a means of communion with the Spirit of the Almighty,” as well as “an object of worship, itself, as having been provided for the Indian by the Almighty.” He added that Peyote is not an addictive narcotic with deleterious side effects. Then he outlined the ritualistic use of Peyote: “The Indians use peyote primarily in connection 184 AFTER WORLD WAR II

with their religious ritual. When thus consumed, it causes the worshiper to experience a vivid revelation in which he sees or hears the spirit of a departed loved one, or experiences other religious phenomenon; or he may be shown the way to solve some daily problem, or reproved for some evil thought or deed. Through the use of peyote, the Indian acquires increased powers of concentration and introspection, and experiences deep religious emotion. There is nothing debasing or morally reprehensible about the peyote ritual.” Noting “that the Federal Government has in nowise prevented the use of peyote by Indians or others,” McFate exonerated Attakai’s bond and released her from custody.14 Perhaps influenced by the notoriety of psychotropic drugs popularized by the hippie movement of the late 1960s, the Texas legislature declared Peyote possession illegal in 1967. By this time Aldous Huxley’s (1954) Doors of Perception and Carlos Castaneda’s (1968) The Teachings of Don Juan, canons of the psychedelic counterculture, had inspired many youths to trespass in the south Texas Peyote gardens.15 In March 1968 David S. Clark (Navajo) was arrested for Peyote possession in Laredo, but the case against him was deemed unconstitutional by the Webb County district judge (Stewart 1987, 246–47). On behalf of the defendant, Weston LaBarre responded to written interrogatories that were used in court, where colleagues David Aberle and Robert Bergman provided live testimonies.16 Afterward the anthropologist J. Gilbert McAllister lobbied the Texas legislature to amend the Dangerous Drug Act in 1969, which provided for state licensing and regulation of Peyoteros who sold Peyote to card-carrying members of the Native American Church (Stewart 1987, 246– 47; Swan 1999, 12). Passage of the 1978 American Indian Religious Freedom Act guaranteed “to protect and preserve for American Indians their inherent right of freedom to believe, express, and exercise the traditional religions . . . including but not limited to access to sites, use and possession of sacred objects, and the freedom to worship through ceremonials and traditional rites” (cited in Prucha 1984, 1128). Although Peyote is a class 1 narcotic, only American Indians were exempt from prosecution due to its religious usage. By 1984, however, ambiguities in Public Law 95-341 regarding Peyote use emerged in Oregon when Albert L. Smith (Klamath), a reformed alcoholic, was fired by the Douglas County Council on Alcohol and Drug AFTER WORLD WAR II 185

Abuse for consuming Peyote at a Native American Church meeting. Smith and Galen W. Black, a non-Indian terminated for the same reason a year earlier, subsequently were denied state unemployment compensation on the grounds that they had violated terms of their employment. Smith and Black filed a legal suit against the state. In 1986 the Oregon Supreme Court ruled that the state owed Smith and Black unemployment compensation because their First Amendment rights had been violated. After an appeal by the Oregon attorney general, the U.S. Supreme Court reviewed the case in December 1987, then “bounced [it] back to Oregon for clarification of the state law.”17 In October 1988 the Oregon Supreme Court again ruled in favor of Smith and Black, upholding that the sacramental use of Peyote is protected by the First Amendment.18 Another appeal moved the case back to the U.S. Supreme Court, where the April 1990 ruling in Employment Division of Oregon v. Smith overturned the Oregon Supreme Court, maintaining that the First Amendment did not protect the sacramental use of Peyote by American Indians (Swan 1999, 22; Morris 2004, 753; Maroukis 2010, 202–5).19 The 1990 Smith decision threatened to bring back state possession and transportation laws deleterious to the continuance of the Native American Church. Greatly upset by the U.S. Supreme Court ruling, the Indian, legal, and academic communities formed a coalition that launched a pro-Peyote campaign, as depicted in the 1993 documentary Peyote Road. In the winter of 1993 lobbyists gained an audience with members of the U.S. Senate. Among those who testified to the Senate Select Committee on Indian Affairs on behalf of the Native American Church was Kiowa elder Gus Palmer Sr. (Bell et al. 2001, 159). That spring the Kiowa chapter of the Native American Church paid Palmer’s travel fees to Washington, where on March 19 he testified alongside other experts, including the president of the Native American Church of North America.20 Analogous to the postallotment era, the collective testimonies of Palmer and other Peyotists swayed the U.S. Senate, but this time their efforts produced federal pro-Peyote legislation. On October 6, 1994, President Bill Clinton signed into law the American Indian Religious Freedom Act Amendments to protect Native American Church members from further discrimination. Peyotists can now worship without fearing the proverbial knock at the door. Daniel C. Swan (1999, 22) has nicely summarized the current 186 AFTER WORLD WAR II

status of the Church: “The Native American Church has survived one hundred years of criticism, persecution, and legal attack, largely due to the deep religious conviction and tenacity of its members.” Despite the recent success of the Native American Church, membership in the Kiowa chapter has steadily declined in the past half century. When Jerrold Levy (1958, 38–39) interviewed Comanche and Kiowa Peyotists in the late 1950s, he learned that the elders who had obtained their powers through vision quests were dying without passing them on to the younger generation; hence their powers ceased. Levy noted that the youth had options to utilize white doctors and hospitals, and he attributed their ambivalence toward old-time powers to the influence of Christianity. Whereas many elders still sought Peyote doctors, younger people did not take the NAC seriously. Thirty years later Gus mentioned that there were few Kiowa Peyote doctors and that healing episodes rarely occurred during the predawn hours of Peyote meetings. He concurred that the old powers were gone and that the young people were not as interested in the Peyote religion anymore. Although his children participated in Peyote meetings, his grandchildren were reluctant to attend.21 Several years later, while discussing the involvement of younger people in the Native American Church, Gus suggested they were more interested in weekend powwows. He added that many Indians today “don’t know anything about Peyote. Just hearsay.” Then he mentioned that someone once had asked him for some ground Peyote to smoke. His response: “You don’t know anything about Peyote!”22 In his book Telling Stories the Kiowa Way, his son, Gus Palmer Jr., recounts a conversation between his father and Oscar Tsoodle in which they lamented the lack of Peyote protocol among younger Indians. Moreover they “complained about how the Peyote ritual was changing, that nobody did things right, the way they should” (Palmer 2003, 72–74). Some Christian Kiowas, like Billy Amauty, agreed about the declining popularity of Peyote and that the young people do not seem to be interested in it.23 Weiser Tongkeamha, another Christian, noted that elders are ambivalent toward young people feigning interest in the Native American Church because they think it is a way to “get high,” a sentiment shared by Gus.24 Their comments are not surprising given the “war on drugs” and the “Just say no” campaign of the 1980s. A AFTER WORLD WAR II 187

Peyote doctor I visited in 1989 said that a magazine advertisement for a Peyote-scented perfume heightened his mistrust of non-Indians who ask questions about Peyote.25 That Peyote could be subjected to recreational abuse explains why contemporary Peyotists are guarded. Gus Palmer Sr. commented on the stereotype that Peyote is a harmful drug or narcotic, a common theme among non-Indians who also think it is smoked. As opposed to abusing the sacred cactus, it is used as a sacrament assisting the supplicant’s prayer requests to God: Now I was telling these young people, I said: “You may not realize, you may think ‘aw, they’re sitting here in this tipi on the ground all night . . . got a fire here, singing these songs . . . with that drum. Praying.’ There’s more to [it than] that. This is how God made it come about, just like he made everything else. He made it [Peyote], no man made that. They came about through Him. Through this what we call a [sic] herb . . . beautiful flower, Peyote. Through that, you take that, He’s going to make you think. You’re going to think about your relations, you’re going to pray about it. You . . . you got a . . . closer feeling with God.” I’m gonna tell you, that’s how I feel. It makes me realize my true [feelings] and I’m gonna pray for it. My relation [with God]. That’s where it comes in, and it’s not being abused, no time. But some other nationalities is abusing it, ruining it for our religion. That’s the reason why they [anthropologists] saw it. They had people come in there [to meetings] and write [about] it . . . and they just quit writing [because] they wrote so much!26 Gus suggests that Peyote helps supplicants concentrate while praying to God and that the worshipers seek pity because they experience physical deprivation—sitting cross-legged all night while singing songs that are harsh on the throat without drinking water except at midnight and dawn—combined with inward contemplation. Concurring with Levy’s (1958, 39) observation that visions during meetings were less important than in earlier times, Gus downplayed the notion that Peyote produces hallucinogenic experiences.27 Another method of safeguarding the Peyote rite is by conforming to proper protocol, for instance, not attending too many meetings. Accord188 AFTER WORLD WAR II

ing to Gus, going to as few as two and as many as ten meetings a year is sufficient. Meetings, typically held in the cooler months between October and April, coincide with Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, and Easter, or they are held for special purposes: to commemorate children’s birthdays, pray for families suffering from illness or austerities, or to celebrate good fortune and well-being. For instance, in February 1987 Gus’s family began pooling resources to sponsor a thanksgiving meeting after being reunited with a granddaughter lost through adoption fourteen years earlier. Gus said that running a meeting is costly considering the obligation of feeding fifteen to thirty-five participants.28 The dearth of young people in the Native American Church is partially related to urbanization and out-migration, although the growth of Christianity has affected NAC membership the most. During the early twentieth century, missionaries unilaterally preached against Peyote. Trina Stumblingbear (1932–2000), a Christian, noted that by midcentury, however, more Indian clergy were leading congregations, and some were informed by the mission boards that preaching against Peyote and the “powwow people” would deter church membership.29 By this time Christians were becoming more tolerant of Peyotists, especially since they did not want to alienate family members. Although their parents and grandparents had been socialized to disapprove of the Native American Church, many in the postwar era had learned not to disrespect the Church. Levy failed to find a rift between Peyotists and Christians in the late 1950s and stated that political factionalism did not correlate with “religious cleavages”; the “progressives” were represented by both religions. He concluded that there were no real intergroup animosities because members of both religions were ambivalent toward Anglos due to “White-Indian tensions.” Meanwhile the Peyote religion continued a quiet existence, its members living peaceful lives while maintaining low public profiles, believing they were living links to past traditions (Levy 1959, 53–55; Levy 1958, 37, 41–42). In contrast, the ever-growing Christian community was more conspicuous in the public arena. I encountered several Christians in the late 1980s who still perceived the Native American Church negatively. For instance, Richard Stumblingbear (1927–2000), great-grandson of the famous “peace chief,” and his wife, Trina, claimed that the NAC is a “pagan” religion; their generAFTER WORLD WAR II 189

ation had been raised to be ambivalent toward non-Christian beliefs.30 Conversely, other Christians from the same age cohort, such as Billy Amauty, Rev. Nick “Charles” Quoetone, Agatha Paddlety Bates, and Fern Ahdokobo Miller, said they did not wish to criticize other people’s beliefs because they were not perfect themselves.31 Richard Stumblingbear, perhaps the most steadfast Christian I met in 1987, also suggested that Peyote became less popular after Collier left the Indian Office in 1945 because Christian Indians thought that his pro-Peyote attitude was taking a step backward. Stumblingbear also believed that the NAC began to decline in the 1940s when many people “found out that Peyote was really a drug.” He identified the rural areas outside Carnegie as the stronghold of “tradition-oriented” people who spurned any involvement in Christianity. For instance, one Sunday morning during services at Albert Horse Memorial Church—now Cache Creek United Methodist Church—Rev. John Tsatoke talked about a parishioner whose husband was near death and refused to join the church because he was a member of the Native American Church. She was worried because she wanted him to convert to Christianity before he died.32 Trina Stumblingbear related how she was raised by her grandfather, Bert Geikauma, an old-time Peyotist who converted to Christianity after the death of his daughter, Trina’s mother. Geikauma, a celebrated Peyotist who allegedly held the record for consuming 240 green Peyote buttons during a three-day period, was LaBarre’s translator in 1935. Having been raised “in the Peyote way, and the powwow way,” Geikauma was stricken with grief after his daughter died. While mourning at her grave, the old man cried out to God, “Lord, if you are really God, show me. . . . Open my eyes that I can see. Give me a sign that I would know that my daughter is in Heaven with you. Is there a Heaven?” His answer came in the form of a whirlwind that kicked up and blew across a closed Bible resting at the foot of the grave. The whirlwind opened the Bible to the Book of John, where he read, “I go to prepare a place for you. In my father’s house are many mansions.” At that point he broke down sobbing on her grave. Later he went home, built a fire, and destroyed his Peyote regalia, “feathers and all.” As in former times, when power visions became the visionary’s autobiography, Geikauma’s religious experience became his personal testimony: “I was an old fool living in the Peyote 190 AFTER WORLD WAR II

and the powwow way.” He joined Redstone Baptist Church, then later became a Methodist.33 Although the NAC and Christianity remain two distinct religions today, there are numerous Christian syncretisms in the former. In the late 1950s Levy (1958, 41) was informed that syncretic Christian traits identified by Weston LaBarre and James Slotkin had been purposely designed to defend the Peyote religion against anti-Peyote sentiments: According to the Peyotists in the local organizations, all those traits which are Christian in appearance are merely used for protective coloring. The cross, Christ, the organization into a church, the use of Peyote as a sacrament etc. and so forth, either have been designed purely to put Peyote on a fighting basis legally or have very definite Peyote counterparts to the better known Christian ones. Moreover, the ethical principles . . . are only Christian in wording and are not felt to be at all identical by Peyotists. . . . There is no ethic in Peyote which is inconsistent with the traditional values and no symbolism which does not derive from traditional symbols. Although Levy (1958, 31) interviewed mostly Comanches, his statement probably represents the beliefs of Kiowas as well. Obscuring the NAC behind the veil of Christianity when the religion was threatened by outsiders had been an adaptive strategy that was no longer necessary after Collier’s policies impeded the persecution and harassment of Peyotists. However, years later, when Gus Palmer Sr. explained NAC symbolism, his descriptions were rife with Christian syncretisms. Given his lifelong involvement and leadership as a Roadman, it seems appropriate to share his philosophies obtained during formal interviews in February 1987, May 1993, and July 2003. Like many Kiowa Peyotists, Gus was somewhat reticent to discuss the Native American Church with outsiders, though he graciously shared his life story and NAC experiences so I could enlighten others about the Peyote religion. Growing up in the Redstone community west of Anadarko, Gus was the second oldest son of “Choctaw” Bill Palmer and Clara Mopope. In 1928, when Gus was nine years old, he participated in his first Peyote meeting, which was run by his father; an early memory Gus had of his AFTER WORLD WAR II 191

father was that “sometimes they asked him around there to run that meeting.”34 According to Charley Apekaum, Pretty Crow (Big Joe) “took in” Choctaw Bill at a young age, raised him in the Kiowa culture, taught him to speak fluent Kiowa, and indoctrinated him in the Native American Church. Choctaw Bill eventually became a Roadman (LaBarre 1957, 169–70). At his inaugural meeting Gus sat between his parents (Clara sat to the north of her husband). Gus recalled a doctoring meeting run by Conklin Humming Bird, whose father had been a Buffalo doctor. Upon entering the tipi Gus noticed that he was “the only young kid” in a meeting attended by “a lot of older people.” Although Gus felt insecure because he knew only four Peyote songs, his father reassured him the drum and staff would not pass more than four times that night given the large number of participants. After that Gus remained active in the Native American Church.35 Before World War II, Gus married Alice, the eldest daughter of Henry Tanedooah (Medicine Bird), a well-known Roadman and keeper of one of the Zaidethali, or Ten Medicines bundles (Palmer 2003, 129–30n). Shortly after the war broke out, Gus, now the father of two small children, was employed at Tinker Field in Oklahoma City. His brothers were already in the service: Dixon was in the Forty-Fifth Division serving in Sicily and Italy; George was in the mechanized cavalry stationed on the West Coast; and Lyndreth, the youngest, was in the Tenth Armored Division. Sometime in 1943–44 Gus went to Fort Sill for an interview prior to entering the air force and reporting to Sheppard Field in Wichita Falls, Texas, for basic training, then he attended gunnery school in Kingman, Arizona, before shipping out to MacDill Air Base in Tampa, Florida, for combat crew training.36 En route from Kingman to Tampa, he stopped at home for a three-day layover, during which his father-in-law sponsored a meeting to safeguard his war journey overseas. During the tipi meeting Gus sat by the door all night, serving as the Fireman, whose primary duties are to tend the fire all night long and to let people enter and leave the tipi at the proper moment. All night the elders prayed for Gus’s safe departure and return, and during the special prayer session after midnight he was presented with a Peyote button to protect him during combat. He took the button home and his mother-in-law sewed a small beadwork pouch for it attached to a necklace; while serving in Europe, Gus always wore 192 AFTER WORLD WAR II

it next to his dog tag. When his B-17 crew mates learned about his Peyote charm, the radio man asked if Gus’s family could send some for the others, to which Gus replied that everyone in the bomber was protected by the amulet.37 Overseas Gus was stationed with the Ninety-Sixth Bomb Group in England and flew twenty missions as a waist gunner on a B-17: two were mercy missions dropping k-rations over the Netherlands and eighteen were bombing missions over Germany, including the big air strike over Berlin in April 1945, when the three thousand planes from all three Bomb Group squadrons flew toward the primary target. Oftentimes aerial combat was intense, especially with the German ME-262s, jet-propelled planes that were almost impossible to strafe with machine-gun fire; anti-aircraft fire from the ground was also a constant threat. Nevertheless Gus made is through all twenty missions unscathed, then returned home a war hero. Upon his return a victory dance was held for veterans at Carnegie Park, where Henry Tanedooah gave away a pony to honor Gus, who sat at the head of a table where dozens of veterans were seated for a feast of buffalo meat. Tanedooah also sponsored a Peyote meeting to honor Gus, who once again served as Fireman. To this day he claims the magical power God bestows in Peyote, a “beautiful medicine,” was solely responsible for his safe return to his people. God saw to it that he came back home.38 Eleven years later, in December 1966, Henry Tanedooah sickened and died at the age of eighty-four.39 Back in June, Henry had visited with Gus in the front room of his home near Gokey Creek, about five miles southeast of Carnegie. One of Henry’s sisters was sponsoring a prayer meeting for him, but no one was available to run the meeting. The feeble elder, exceedingly fond of his son-in-law—he had arranged Gus’s marriage to Alice—directed Gus to the bedroom closet to retrieve his cedar Peyote box. When Gus returned to the front room with the box, Henry told him, “You take it in that tipi and you run that meeting.” Henry then told Gus to look inside the box at the Peyote Chief that is placed on the crescent-moon altar during meetings. This particular button dates back to the 1920s, when Henry’s oldest sister, Kau-tonepah-hoodle (married to Henry Tsoodle), suggested making a pilgrimage “down to where that Peyote grows” near Laredo. She felt it was a good idea to go to the Peyote source and hold a tipi meeting, espeAFTER WORLD WAR II 193

cially since she had sired several children of her own who had survived. Hopefully her fertility would pass to her brother through her prayer request at this sacred site. Their pilgrimage to the south Texas Peyote gardens led to the discovery of this particular Peyote button, which Kau-tone-pah-hoodle cut after making an offering. Presenting the large button to Henry, she instructed him to use it whenever he ran a meeting and he would have children and grandchildren. Within the next few years Vivian and Betty were born, even though Minnie lost a total of ten children through miscarriage. Alice eventually had six children and Vivian had ten, so Henry wanted Gus to take the Peyote Chief because it had fulfilled the original prayer request put on it. From that time on, Gus conducted many Peyote meetings.40 Gus recounted many tales of his lifelong participation in NAC meetings and living a blessed life. One of his favorite stories relates the religious experience of his second oldest daughter, Donna. This particular story was part of Gus’s testimony to the Senate Select Committee on Indian Affairs in March 1993: My tribe, the Kiowa tribe, and the [Plains] Apache sent me here to testify. To explain about this. You have a church, one in glass. My church is there, the grass that grows. Tipi. Today, it’s canvas. Ours is built on the ground. God is present. . . . First we get this herb that God created. Like everything on this planet, Mother Earth, God made. He places everything here. My daughter, Donna Palmer, lived in Dallas. It spoke to her in Spirit. She worked in the Environmental Health Building, twenty-eighth floor. She was driving home to Garland and had a weak feeling. [She] went home and went into the bathroom. It had a soft voice, but with authority. She was thinking, why did she go to Native American Church meetings? It spoke to her. It said, “get up and look in the mirror.” He’s everywhere, he’s in Spirit. It spoke to her in Spirit: “It’s alright because I’m in it.” He made it, He created it. I am telling you this story my daughter told me. He’s in it. It’s not a god, He’s in there. What can you eat that will tell you that? He’s in there. He makes you humble. You sit in there [in tipi meetings] and He lets you know you can learn something. It’s going to teach you something. It’s in your heart. 194 AFTER WORLD WAR II

God made this come about to the poor Indian so he could know there’s a God. This is an herb that God made and He’s in it. Eight to ten go into the tipi [to worship]. When you eat that, you have a humble feeling. You feel Him. Brothers and sisters worship together. A better feeling than anything else. All that counts is that you believe in him. He’ll go along with you if you believe. All I’m saying is that God is in that herb. God will make you think, to make a good person out of you.41 Living in an urban area and attending a fundamentalist Christian church, Donna had been caught between two polar views of the Peyote religion. During her transcendent experience, the spirit of God expressed acceptance of the Peyote religion because it comes from the heart, where He resides. A Peyote song describing the omnipotence of God was created to commemorate her experience: pe·gya Dɔk’i, or “God that’s with us [in everything].” Gus explained the song: “I believe that . . . He [God] is everywhere in Spirit. No matter. He’s in the ground. He’s in the air. He’s in the water. He’s anywhere in Spirit. He’s even right here [in the room where we were sitting] in Spirit. A lot of people don’t know that. He’s there even [points to his heart]. That’s what makes [the] heart tick. That’s the soul. And when a person dies, He takes that. That’s Him. He’s there.”42 Shortly after Donna’s mystical encounter with the spirit of God, Gus sponsored a Peyote meeting to commemorate her experience. According to Gus, things fell into place when an Indian from Utah brought down a set of tipi poles in exchange for recording some of Gus’s Peyote songs, and one of his sons offered to pay half for a $200 beef to feed the celebrants during the Sunday noon meal. At daybreak after the Morning Song was finished, Donna shared her spiritual encounter. When she finished her testimony, an elderly man rose from his sitting position and pressed a twenty-dollar bill into her hand and proclaimed, “It made me feel good. I know it’s from her heart. I know that, this is how I pray.”43 He was referring to her tearful testimony accompanied by prayers of thanksgiving. As always, Kiowa concepts of praying in a pitiful manner fit equally well in NAC and Christian services. Supplicants in both religions are motivated by the belief that tearful prayers are powerful; piety gets God’s attention. Always willing to share the message of the Native American Church, Gus described how he addressed his grandchildren when they played AFTER WORLD WAR II 195

in the empty tipi following the Quitting Song and ritual breakfast in the morning; he made it a point to teach the values behind the religion. The following sermon nicely shows the melding of Kiowa and Christian cosmologies: They [the children] don’t . . . they don’t know the meaning. They don’t know . . . and I tell them in the morning. . . . I pick up that dirt [from the crescent moon altar]. You see this dirt? Dirt, this ground. It’s called Mother Earth, and a lot of people abuse that today, it’s run down. That’s how it’s taken care of. Don’t you know something, God made a man out of this dirt . . . that’s you and I. That dirt is pretty important if you realize deep enough knowing that God [created it]. And then, when a person leaves this earth, he goes right back to that dirt. And this means a whole lot, right in here. We’re sitting on this Mother Earth, with this structure of this moon, and the sage is laying there where that Peyote [Chief ] sits, and there’s a fire. That fire is something, nothing to play with. That fire. Bible days. He spoke within fire when [the] Ten Commandments came about to Moses . . . in the fire. God speaks with fire . . . that fire . . . something to that. OK, you take the sun, you see that, you look at that, you’ll go blind. He is there . . . also, with authority. In the morning that comes up . . . and it brightens the day. It says, “Wake up, enjoy this life, what little, short life I give you. Live it, take care of this life you save, you look after me and I’ll look after you. . . . I’ll provide light, growth on this ground, anything that grows.” We eat, that goes back to it. This ground is important if people would realize [that] on that water that ferments it, things that grow in the heat. So, you see, we’re sitting on here, we sacrificed all night long in here, praying to God. Where this cedar’s dropped, that smoke goes to him. This is what we want. And when we pray, [we] say yes, hɔ, we’re all in agreement. He can hear us. He don’t have to be reached. He’s right here, if you’d meet Him. From here [inside the tipi]. He knows what you’re talking about if you mean it. He’ll listen, He’s there, like it says when there’s just one or two people. “I’m also there.” He means that He’s there with you in that temple. He’s already there. There don’t have to be a million people. And you can pray anywhere, He’s everywhere, anywhere. Go under the 196 AFTER WORLD WAR II

ground—He’s there. Go in the air—He’s there. Go in the water—He’s there. If it wasn’t for that, there wouldn’t be this [the Peyote religion]. That is the most wonderful feeling, knowing that God is Supreme Being of all [the] universe.44 During Gus’s homily Alice came into the room to listen. When he finished she pointed out that he was describing the old “Indian way” of worshiping God and that before the white missionaries brought them the Bible, they already knew how to pray to God in their own way: pitifully. That is the Kiowa way to pray. After the Kiowas realized they were worshiping the same God, they had few problems accepting Christian concepts. Moreover, she emphasized, God originally sent Jesus to the Middle East, the center of the world’s problems, where He was needed the most. Hence Jesus did not come among Indians because they had fewer problems than the peoples of southwest Asia.45 During our conversation Gus repeatedly pointed to a portrait of Jesus Christ on the wall when referring to God, saying that He came to earth in the “humblest, lowest, poorest, down-to-earth way.” God did not need a well-furnished house or a richly ornate temple because He came to earth in a lowly manger. Analogous to the nativity of Christ, worshipers in the Peyote rite sit on the ground offering humble prayers: So, by that see how the Indian has got a church? Down to earth . . . that’s far better than a building that’s built with gold. God came on this earth the same way—pitiful way. We’re sitting on her on this Mother Earth—pitiful way. We shed tears, we tell Him [through testimonies]. He’s here. He hears it. He makes this earth, this earth édɔdɔ [has power or strength]. [This] means that God, they call him Dɔk’i, God. Everything’s Dɔk’i . . . everything is like magic, dɔ. Dɔk’i dɔmèdɔdɔ [earth is like magic]. The earth to the Indian, it’s like things come about like magic. Dɔm, earth. édɔdɔ, that means it’s like magic. Come springtime, things beginning to grow, like magic, you know. He’s there.46 Palmer’s testimony reveals the fusion of older Kiowa concepts related to dɔdɔ, or “power,” with the Christian concept of God. Comparing churches of gold to worshiping on the ground (Mother Earth) nicely illustrates the AFTER WORLD WAR II 197

Kiowa sense of humility and piety; praying while sitting on the earthen floor of a Peyote tipi brings the supplicants closer to God, who, like the earth, is magic. God made the earth, so his magic and power are felt by the supplicants who offer tearful prayers. In indigenous Kiowa beliefs, springtime is the beginning of the New Year, when the rains come and the ground emerges from the dormancy of winter. God’s power is there. These beliefs nicely coalesce in the Peyote religion. Another Christian syncretism occurs after the Midnight Song during a special baptismal rite (see Stewart 1987, 38–39). After the Fireman brings the pail of water into the tipi, a Bull Durham cornhusk cigarette is smoked and some of the water is poured on the ground, symbolizing that the earth needs water to regenerate plant and animal life. Then the pail is passed clockwise, allowing the participants to pour some water on their hands as a blessing, especially since everyone has already prayed over the water. Water is a necessity for human survival. The smoke of the cornhusk cigarette is associated with the prayers of the supplicants traveling to God. Smoking is a sacred ceremony that makes a covenant with God, analogous to long-stem pipe smoking in earlier days.47 Numerous prereservation beliefs have also been incorporated into the Peyote rite, for instance, the use of cedar and sage, symbols of life. The sage, used as a cushion under the blanket-lined seats, is rubbed on the bodies of the celebrants before the meeting begins. Cedar has always been burned to ward off ghosts and to help the deceased’s spirit find the proper path to the afterlife. Cedar incense is burned inside the Peyote tipi for two reasons: to ward off malevolent spirits, and to carry the worshipers’ prayers to God. Cedar is dropped into the fire after everyone has eaten their four Peyote buttons, before the Fireman leaves at midnight for the pail of water, and when anyone reenters the tipi. This is done to purify the participants and to keep out all evil influences. In the morning after the Quitting Song has been sung and the buckets of food passed outside the tipi, the pail of water is passed and everyone pours some on the ground. All feathers and feathered fans adorned with beadwork handles are passed over to the priest, who places them on the altar cloth, signifying prayer request time has begun. Each supplicant’s fan is passed over the cedar smoke, then they immerse their faces in the sacred smoke. Special emphasis is given to those who are ill. Gus noted 198 AFTER WORLD WAR II

that this type of healing still occurs, though old-time Peyote doctoring is practically unknown today.48 Gus graciously showed me the contents of the small oblong cedar Peyote box that his father-in-law, whose Indian name was White Cloud, had given him. When he opened the box, the pungent, fragrant smell of cedar smoke emanated from within. On top were spotted eagle breath feathers and a fan made from the darker feathers of the water bird. The eagle feathers were prayer feathers, and the water bird fan had been used by White Cloud for doctoring.49 Importantly the various feathers and feathered fans “transfer the power of the cedar smoke, the fire, and Chief Peyote to participants as they hold the feathers toward these elements and then pat their bodies” (Swan 1999, 40). One notable symbol from the past is the mythical Peyote Woman, first described by James Mooney in 1897 (Swan 1999, 23), though LaBarre (1938, 24n111) later recorded a variant story crediting the members of a war party as the first to encounter Peyote. Recognizing Peyote Woman as the bearer of Peyote, however, became the standard origin myth during the twentieth century, perhaps a reflection of women’s acceptance into tipi meetings. Several variants of the story appear elsewhere (Boyd 1981, 103– 4; Boyd 1983, 277), and the one related by Gus shares a basic theme: A woman traveling across the Plains away from her people became weak and lay down to sleep beside a Peyote cactus. While she was slumbering, the plant spoke to her in a vision and instructed her to partake of it and to rejoin her people; eventually reunited with the Kiowas, she gave them the Peyote rite. In contemporary meetings a special prayer is said by the woman who brings the water into the tipi after the Morning Song. Without women, the tipi would not be set up, the ritual breakfast and noon meal would not be prepared, and the meeting would not be held. Women therefore are acknowledged in the morning for their importance in Kiowa society.50 This origin myth is somewhat similar to the origin story of the Patsonhi Shield, the founding shield of the Buffalo doctors.51 Charley Apekaum told LaBarre that the Native American Church and the Buffalo Medicine Lodge were connected by the same power since both were brought by women. In former times, when the Buffalo doctors sang together they sometimes heard a woman’s voice coming through. The AFTER WORLD WAR II 199

same was true for Peyote meetings: “Now in the peyote meeting, not very often, sometimes, you can hear a woman’s voice along, singing in unison with the men, even though there’s no women in the meeting. Now, what makes that high-pitched female voice we don’t understand. Whether it’s two tones together throwing out a high tone or whether it’s out of the drum we don’t know. But some of the Kiowas say that’s the Peyote Woman, meaning well we’d say the patron saint of peyote [Christian syncretism] brings it here. It’s a beautiful voice” (LaBarre 1957, 178–79). Apekaum had heard the voice of the Peyote Woman during meetings and said that her voice was most audible when there were no women present. This unexplained phenomenon was attributed to the power of the female spirit in Peyote (178–79). The Peyote religion therefore is a collage of indigenous and Christian symbols, though it is important to note that to adherents of the Native American Church, these are Native, not Christian, values. More important than the source of syncretisms is that the Peyotists are convinced they are worshiping God in their own way. Such amalgamated symbols in part reflect the history of persecution of the Peyote religion by outsiders; syncretisms originally designed to protect or disguise the religion are now complex syncretisms evident in the ethos of Peyotists. Maybe this is related to the fact that many Kiowa families are composed of Christians and Peyotists, and throughout the years individuals have come to the realization that they are worshiping the same Creator. Nonetheless Peyotists are tired of outsiders meddling in their affairs, especially nonIndians who seek to participate in Peyote meetings. Levy (1958, 31) wrote that the Peyote religion had gone underground. To this day most Peyotists desire to be left alone as the tipi rite endures. The Kiowa-Comanche Peyote ceremony continues with few changes since it was first observed by Mooney in 1891 and by LaBarre in 1935 and 1936. One of the few innovations pertains to the consumption of Peyote buttons at the beginning of the meeting. Gus showed me the Peyote buttons he kept in his cedar Peyote box: some were green, some were dried, and some had been ground up and placed in a plastic medicine vial. Whenever the Peyote is passed around to start a meeting, everyone has a choice of one of these varieties. Elders with bad teeth, for instance, find it much easier to eat the ground Peyote.52 200 AFTER WORLD WAR II

The basic Kiowa-Comanche Peyote ceremony will persist as long as there are active Peyotists keeping the songs alive. Moreover the intertribal basis of the Native American Church ensures the perpetuation of the ceremony because Indians representing many tribes perform some form of the two basic ceremonies: the Kiowa- Comanche Half Moon and the Cross Fire rites (see Stewart 1987, 339–75, appendix A). Since members of other tribes have learned Kiowa Peyote songs, the Half Moon rite will persevere as long as the songs are passed to others. Gus said that Kiowa Peyote songs have been heard in other parts of the country. For instance, he learned in the mid-1980s from a Navajo living in Utah that his songs were being sung in Peyote meetings on the Wind River Reservation in Wyoming. Gus had never recorded his personal songs for anyone, but afterward he let the man tape a song session to ensure that the songs were learned correctly.53 Gus was the last Roadman who could conduct meetings in fluent Kiowa when he passed away in November 2006, as he was preceded in death by Nelson and Joe Big Bow. The loss of these venerated elders, however, did not mark the end of the Kiowa NAC, because like the national organization, the Kiowa chapter has persisted into the twenty-first century, having survived over a century of stereotypes and opposition from the uninformed. Although the American Indian Religious Freedom Act Amendments ensure that members of federally recognized tribes can legally possess Peyote and worship in tipi meetings without being harassed or arrested, there are new concerns related to the availability of Peyote. Poor conservation practices, environmental degradation, and a diminishing land base have contributed to deficient Peyote harvests in the south Texas Peyote gardens. Importing Peyote from south of the Rio Grande River is not an option due to the Mexican government’s war against the cartels. Thus the reduced supply of Peyote has driven up prices. Concomitantly there are fewer licensed Peyote dealers. In the 1980s there were approximately eight licensed Peyoteros near Laredo.54 By 2009 there were only three. Concerns about the diminishing supply of Peyote are expressed at every NAC convention (Maroukis 2010, 225–28). Maroukis (2010, 90–92) points out that NAC members are not restricted to worshiping solely in tipi meetings. Unlike Christianity, the Peyote doctrine does not exclude other faiths, so Peyotists are free to worship AFTER WORLD WAR II 201

elsewhere. Besides, Native religious traditions “have remained remarkably open to the possibility that new truths, new visions, new ceremonies, could come to them in time” (McNally 2000, 847). Hence many Peyotists adhere to “spiritual traditions” or attend Christian churches; multiple religious affiliations are not unusual. The openness of Peyotism is derived from indigenous traditions of tolerance and accommodation that fused into the incipient Peyote religion and contributes to its continuance. Not surprisingly the last Roadmen fluent in Kiowa also belonged to churches: Nelson Big Bow (1917–2010) was a member of the United Methodist Church of Apache; Gus Palmer Sr. was baptized Roman Catholic at St. Patrick’s Mission; his wife, Alice Tenadooah, concurrently belonged to the Native American Church and Botone Memorial Church (Methodist). The well-known artist Harding Big Bow (1921–97), past president of the Native American Church of Oklahoma and a Ten Medicines keeper, was also a member of Cedar Creek Methodist Church. Today all Kiowas are at least nominally Christian and have family connections to the churches that appeared in Kiowa country along with the nascent Peyote rite. In fact Christianity is the most public Kiowa religion today. Christianity after World War II As I discovered when initially conducting fieldwork in southwestern Oklahoma, members of the Methodist, Baptist, and Pentecostal churches scattered throughout Kiowa country are more than happy to share stories regarding the early Christian converts and the history of family churches. Indeed these are rich oral traditions. Other information is derived from histories compiled by some churches, for instance, Rainy Mountain Baptist Church (Nahwooksy 1993), Mount Scott Methodist Church (Twohatchet 1996), and Redstone Baptist Church. Since 1987 I’ve attended Sunday services in many of the churches, especially Saddle Mountain Baptist Church. In the first half of the twentieth century over a handful of Indian churches were scattered throughout Kiowa country. Hog Creek Methodist Church was located about eight miles west of Anadarko—which had no Indian churches—and Redstone Baptist Church was situated several miles farther west. Cedar Creek Methodist Church was the closest Indian church to Carnegie, and other churches dotted the Kiowa landscape: 202 AFTER WORLD WAR II

Rainy Mountain Baptist Church near Mountain View; Lonewolf Methodist Chapel, two miles west of Mountain View; Mount Scott Methodist Church near Meers; and Elk Creek Baptist Church (later called St. Luke’s Mission) in Hobart. Rev. Bob Pinezaddleby told me that St. Patrick’s Catholic Mission west of Anadarko—the only non-Protestant church—was attended by several Kiowa families, although they were probably the exception, as most Christian Kiowas were Protestants, according to Fr. Mike Vaught.55 By midcentury several satellite Methodist churches had emerged: Samone Chapel, three miles west of Carnegie; Albert Horse Memorial Church (now Cache Creek Church), thirteen miles south of Carnegie; and Wetselline Mission (now Botone Memorial Church), about five and a half miles southeast of Carnegie.56 These churches developed in rural areas where new converts had worshiped in homes or army tents. There were no Indian churches in Anadarko, so in 1943 Rev. Ted Ware sought to organize a Methodist church there (Bell et al. 2001, 178). Ted Ware, whose father, Harry Ware, had founded Hog Creek Methodist Church, wanted to reestablish a Methodist church in Anadarko since there had not been an Indian church in town following the closure of the Methodist mission. Although they desired a church of their own, the Kiowas living in town did not have much money and could not afford to build their own church building. While saving money for a church, Reverend Ware and his wife, Gina, met in the homes of various Indians. Gina recalled that they “just went from house to house,” sitting on plank benches set out in front rooms to accommodate the growing congregation. Sunday services alternated among at least six different homes used as temporary worship sites. D. D. Etchieson, district superintendent of the Oklahoma Indian Missionary Conference (Western District), was not optimistic about Reverend Ware’s plans, telling him, “You cannot do it. If you do, I’ll eat my hat!”57 As the congregation grew, permission was obtained to use the basement of the non-Indian First United Methodist Church. However, some of the Anglo members harbored anti-Indian sentiments, resulting in their banishment from the basement, as Gina recalled: Well, of course, you know we’re all supposed to be true Christian people, but there was one or two complaining about the Indians using AFTER WORLD WAR II 203

the basement of the church. They didn’t feel like we should try to use their basement. And their complaints start coming up . . . and one day somebody called Ted and told him to quit taking his Indians to the Methodist Church. And was he disappointed! He called everybody together and said: “We cannot go to the Methodist Church anymore. There are some members there that don’t want Indians in the basement of that church. They claim that we’re getting some . . . destruction is being done and we’re blamed for it.” “Ok,” he said, “we’re going to quit going.”58 Her statement aptly illustrates the segregation that has plagued southwestern Oklahoma since statehood. To this day Indians, Hispanics, blacks, and Anglos have their own churches, with some notable exceptions. Driving through contemporary Anadarko, one can still observe segregated churches: those primarily for whites, black churches in the black part of town, and Indian churches. St. Patrick’s Catholic Church serves the growing Hispanic population. Ironically segregated churches represent the isolation of Indian peoples from mainstream American culture in a town once considered to be the Indian capital of the world, which is the antithesis of twentieth-century federal Indian policy designed to assimilate American Indians into the Anglo-dominated society. Shortly after losing access to the basement of the First United Methodist Church, Reverend Ware solicited Anadarko merchants for any available space. According to Gina, the owner of an abandoned creamery, which later became a plumbing shop, allowed the use of his store until they could build their own church: He let us have it, the cream station . . . they moved out. You talk about filth . . . and we cleaned it, and scrubbed, and scum, cream off the walls and the floors. He told us we could have it rent free if we cleaned it up and make a mission out of it. And that’s where we started our mission. . . . But it took us a week—children, old folks—mopping that floor. And that was just the half of it. Some lady . . . donated a piano, and I wrote to some friends in Dallas, [and] a lady . . . sent us literature and songbooks. And we got started from a scratch, almost. We were given 204 AFTER WORLD WAR II

twelve cane bottom chairs that were discarded because there were no bottom to them, the cane bottom was gone. Well, I had an uncle that was attending church, his name was Frank Geionety, [and] he went to town and got some of that narrow rope, he knew how to weave that into a seat. And all the men got together and weaved twelve chairs. And we had some boards . . . [that] Ted bought . . . and him and four other men . . . we had a wonderful time, building benches, chairs, and what have you to sit on in church. . . . And we started having church, in that cream station. Makeshift curtains were placed over the large front windows to ensure privacy, though a welcome sign placed in front invited everyone to worship with them. Services were held in the creamery in 1944– 45, including a Christmas service. The members even raised enough money to buy an old school bus so they could pick people up on Sundays, since transportation was hindered by the war.59 Gina explained that in order to solicit funds for their own church Reverend Ware passed around a jar and told everyone that the sooner they filled it, the sooner they could build a church. When they had enough money to buy a town lot, Ware approached an Anglo friend who owned two contiguous lots on Northeast Seventh Street. Supportive of their cause, Ted’s friend offered him two lots for the price of one, permitting the congregation to purchase a large corner adjoining Northeast Seventh Street. Construction began in the fall of 1945 on a two-story church with a basement. Named J. J. Methvin Memorial to honor the pioneer missionary, the church opened the next year (Bell et al. 2001, 178). Services were held in the chapel, and the basement was used for quilting clubs, Sunday school, and fellowship dinners following communion services on the first Sunday of each month. Unfortunately the stucco foundation began to crack, and whenever it rained, church members had to arrive early on Sunday mornings to mop out the water. Within twenty years of its construction the building was condemned, so the members again solicited funds for a new building, which was dedicated in 1965.60 As of this writing, in January 2017, the church is still in use. According to Fern Ahdokobo Miller, Pentecostalism, based on the “born again” experience, appeared in Kiowa country sometime in the AFTER WORLD WAR II 205

late 1930s and early 1940s. (In indigenous times, the concept of rebirth was connected with the first thunder in the spring.) Spencer Ahpeahtone was one of the first Pentecostal ministers. First to arrive was the Full Gospel Church from California, which established Little Red Church, approximately six miles southwest of Carnegie. Later the same group built a Full Gospel Church in Stecker. Sometime after 1947 the Pentecostal Church of God, or Holiness, from Joplin, Missouri, founded the White Church, about three and a half miles southeast of Carnegie.61 One of the founders and early ministers of White Church was Amos Aitson (1928–2003), whose father, James Franklin—grandson of Lucius Aitson—and his wife, Lucille Tsalote Aitson (1927–2012), had worked for the Holiness ministries. Amos and Lucille said that, like many Indian families in southwestern Oklahoma, they relocated to Dallas in 1963, though they returned to Carnegie on weekends so Amos could preach at White Church. During the week Rev. John Tsatoke, one of Hunting Horse’s grandsons, ministered to the congregation’s needs. In 1970 Aitson stepped down as minister and was replaced by Tsatoke, who preached there for a year before transferring to the Methodist Church, where he received a salary. John Standing took Tsatoke’s place.62 After Standing left, Nick Rivera and his wife, Stella (Tsatoke’s sister), led the congregation at White Church. In recent years, however, the church has been abandoned, except for occasional revivals.63 During the spring of 1987 I visited with Fern Ahdokobo Miller (1924–93), who related her experience with the Pentecostal Church. In 1969, shortly after she was “saved,” Fern founded Cache Creek Full Gospel Church on her allotment, situated on the east side of State Highway 58, eleven miles south of Carnegie. Her parents—Nelly Hunting Horse, daughter of the great chief, and Gilbert Wohaw, son of the Fort Marion prisoner— raised her in a Christian home, but in her youth her father died and Nelly remarried Rev. Guy Quoetone. When she came of age, Fern left home, married, lived in Oklahoma City, divorced, then moved to Reno, Nevada. Along the way she succumbed to alcoholism, which also afflicted other family members: Fern lost a son, a sister, and a brother to cirrhosis of the liver; on their deathbeds, her sister and son “gave themselves to the Lord,” which inspired her rededication to Christianity, along with the long-distance prayers of her mother. She commented on her conversion: 206 AFTER WORLD WAR II

And the Lord, I was in an old church [in Reno] and He saved me. And He took that, I thought I could never do without, I thought I would die. An alcoholic has a craving like that, but He took that away, just overnight. And no one can do that but the Lord. Of course the enemy came once in a while and kept me, you know the smell across my nose. I’d think about it for just a second, but I knew enough in my mind to call in the Lord and say “Lord, strengthen me. To overcome this.” He did, and I owe it to him. Now it’s going on seventeen years.64 Dedicated to doing “something for the Lord,” Fern started holding services outside an old trailer she called home situated near a Creek flowing westward from the Slick Hills. Sunday afternoons were spent teaching Sunday school around a big wire-spool table, then she prepared an evening meal followed by a night service. The fifteen or so elders attending services sat on bridge planks set up in the yard. When it was cold her husband partitioned off a room in a neighboring house so they could hold indoor services. In the mid-1970s Fern’s niece donated her nearby home for the church. When I visited the church in 1987, Sunday services averaged around twenty people, though Fern stated that a recent cottage meeting had attracted over fifty participants. At the time a number of nondenominational Pentecostal churches were operating in homes in different communities, including Fort Cobb, Stecker, Hog Creek, and Lawton.65 Fern passed away in 1993, and the church became defunct. Fern’s dedication to Pentecostalism is analogous to nineteenth-century practices wherein certain men pledged to sponsor Sun Dances, then fulfilled their vows the following summer. Doing “something for the Lord” was the twentieth-century version of promising to erect a tipi for Taime. One difference from the past, however, is that Christianity offered gender parity; whereas power and visions were formerly the domain of men, Christianity provided women the opportunity to hold their own place alongside men. Strong spiritual convictions have been a key element of Kiowa beliefs from indigenous times to the present. Whatever religious tenets Kiowas have followed—animistic and animatistic beliefs in dɔdɔ, the Ghost Dance, Peyotism, or Christianity—they have been steadfast in their beliefs. AFTER WORLD WAR II 207

The era following World War II was marked by the passing of the older generations of Christian converts, coupled with the out-migration of youths moving to urban areas. One outcome was the cessation of longterm Christmas encampments and revivals at the rural churches. Billy Amauty reminisced about the pre-1945 encampments, where some families camped from Thanksgiving until well after New Year’s Day. Recalling some holidays when twenty-five to forty families camped together, he attributed the attenuation of this custom to the passing of the elders, many of whom did not speak English; subsequently interpreters—sign language included—were no longer needed. Meanwhile the younger people did not take up the practice of camping during Christmas, so the custom disappeared.66 Richard Stumblingbear attributed the disappearance of this custom to economic changes. Between 1888, when the first long-term missionaries came to Kiowa country, and 1945 many Indians in southwestern Oklahoma depended on lease incomes and per capita payments, which gave them more leisure time that could be devoted to camping at churches. Although many Indians tended gardens, the agricultural economy was— and is—controlled by non-Indian ranchers and farmers. Before the war Indians who worked for non-Indians were criticized for squandering their monies. By the end of the war more Indian lands had passed into non-Indian ownership, and inheritance caused the fragmentation of the remaining allotments, making it impossible to live solely from rents. For instance, a man with six children had his allotment divided six ways when he died, so those children were compelled to perform wage work. Hence the disappearance of long Christmas camps due to the dearth of leisure time for such activities.67 Musing about life in the late twentieth century, Stumblingbear suggested that Indians were never taught the proper work ethic necessary for living in the modern world: Today, everything is geared toward work, you can’t live without a paycheck. A lot of younger Indians are confused, today, in that area, they want to turn back the pages of time, not realizing they [their ancestors] lived a different way because they could afford to. 1890s, allotment. A family of six could live comfortably off lease money. Today, you get off 208 AFTER WORLD WAR II

work on a Friday evening, then go camping [at weekend powwows], but we got to get back by Monday morning to go to work. They were free to camp in earlier days. Income came solely from leases, so they had time to camp. Say two weeks before Thanksgiving, or Christmas, the Indians would start coming in their wagons, bringing their camping gear to camp around the churches. Services were held every night, they had time to do it. Today, that’s where part of their frustration is. They’re caught up in mainstream American society. Maybe fifty years ago [late 1930s], people did things a certain way. Some of the older people take it out on the younger generation, telling them they’re not interested in church: “You all just come to the services and leave.” They could afford to camp around the churches in the old days, but not now. We wonder why the younger generation doesn’t go to church. But this is the problem. Things have died out over the last forty years. A lot of our younger people don’t really know what church is.68 Stumblingbear recognized that the shift toward an urban, industrialized economy changed camping behaviors; long-term church encampments were fading in favor of abbreviated weekend activities. Though Christmas church encampments faded into the background, summertime camping continued at the annual church conference camps and revivals. Today the two major denominations in Kiowa country, Baptist and Methodist, sponsor church retreats and conferences every summer. The following description of the Oklahoma Indian Missionary Conference reflects the modern-day interpretation of camping. Represented by all the Indian Methodist churches in Oklahoma, five in southeastern Kansas, and two in north Texas, the Oklahoma Indian Missionary Conference was founded in Tahlequah in 1844 (Gomez 1985, 2). The Conference is subdivided into four geographic districts: Northeast, Southeast, North, and West; due to the smaller number of churches in northern and western Oklahoma, the latter two districts have been combined into the Western District for the annual conference rotation. Each year during the first week of June, annual conference meetings are held on a rotating basis at the regional campgrounds in the three districts: Antlers, nestled near the Kiamichi Mountains (Southeast); Preston, just north of Okmulgee (Northeast); and Hog Creek, west of Anadarko AFTER WORLD WAR II 209

(West). During the Thursday-through-Sunday conference, Methodists representing up to eighteen tribes gather for worship and praise services featuring testimonials and tribal hymns. Highlights of the conference occur on Sunday, when the ministers are given the ensuing year’s church assignments. Fellowship, visiting, and lots of food accentuate the spiritual assembly, according to Richard Stumblingbear.69 Camping (or staying in cabins), visiting, and eating (“breaking bread” together) are key concepts in Kiowa culture that are symbolically connected to the past. The third weekend in July marks the annual Western District camp meeting at the campgrounds next to the old Hog Creek Chapel, now called Ware’s Chapel in honor of Guy Ware, who originally donated the land where the sanctuary, parsonage, and campgrounds are situated. The camp consists of a three-sided, roofed sanctuary for outdoor meetings, flanked by ten cabins, or shelter houses, complete with kitchen facilities. During conferences the various churches are assigned cabins, where the daily meals are prepared on a rotating basis by each church. Camp participants are issued tickets designating the cabin where they will eat, each cabin feeding up to forty people per meal. Most visitors from out of town bring their camping gear and camp at the campgrounds, though some of the locals return to their homes each night. Like the annual conference, the camp meetings feature singing, praying, testimonials, and Methodist liturgy. Trina Stumblingbear mentioned that since the late 1960s there has been a movement to build modern campgrounds in Norman, a more centrally located spot, but the old people clung to the tradition of camping at the district grounds. She perceived camping as a way to “suffer for the Lord” rather than having the convenience of modern facilities.70 That’s how things were in 1987. On Friday, June 11, 2004, accompanied by two Northeastern State University students, J. Justin Castro and Rachel Whitaker, I attended the annual conference for the Oklahoma Indian American Baptist Association at the Wichita Mission, several miles northeast of Anadarko. Among those present were Kiowa members of Redstone, Hobart, and Rainy Mountain Baptist churches. Featured during the evening activities was a sermon by Rev. Ken Sullivan of Redstone Baptist and hymns sung in Kiowa and Comanche. That evening I visited with Fred Tsoodle (1919–2006)—grandson of Tsoodle (Packing Stone)—who mused about 210 AFTER WORLD WAR II

the changing times, when everyone goes home at night instead of camping at the conference, as in earlier times. He himself would drive over thirty miles back to his home north of Rainy Mountain Church that night.71 A week later we visited the Quoetone family reunion at Jimmy Creek one mile north of Meers. Ironically Rev. Charles “Nick” Quoetone (1934–2016) and his wife, Sandra, were the only ones camping on the old Quoetone homestead. As twilight overtook the beautiful park and families packed their cars to head home, Reverend Quoetone too commented that people do not camp at family reunions or church camp meetings like they did in earlier times.72 In contrast, non-Indians have now taken up the practice of camping. In the spirit of pioneer missionaries like Isabel Crawford, who lived in late nineteenth-century Kiowa encampments, non-Indian church groups have been traveling to southwestern Oklahoma for summer revivals and mission trips for over forty years. Typically out-of-state church groups come for one or two weeks in the spring or summer to conduct volunteer work at the Indian churches. Building, cleaning, maintenance, and the preparation of meals dominate the daylight hours, while evenings are devoted to sharing songs, prayers, and testimonials. Patricia Ware (1945–2009) stated that some groups have turned mission trips into annual events, such as the Baptist youth group from Wichita, Kansas, that has trekked to the Anadarko area since the mid-1970s.73 When I visited Cache Creek Church in early 1987, several members asked if my Indiana heritage connected me to a church group that first came to Kiowa country in 1977. Dorothy Tsatoke Gray and her brother, Rev. John Tsatoke (1920–89), related the history of how the people from Indiana fostered their church’s revival. Cache Creek Church can be reached by driving south of Carnegie on State Highway 9. Approximately eleven miles south a faded sign at the junction of a county road directs the traveler two miles east to the church, founded in 1929–30. As Reverend Tsatoke explained, Cecil Tsatoke, son of Hunting Horse and Pitoma, and his half-brother Albert, son of Hunting Horse and Pitma, were among the early ordained Methodist ministers at the church, which had a stone-lined basement made from rock hauled in by wagon from Hunting Horse’s allotment (Corwin 1958a, 41– 42, 159).74 Dorothy Tsatoke Gray recounted that in 1969, she and her AFTER WORLD WAR II 211

husband, Carl, returned from the military and built a house on her allotment next to Dietrick’s Lake, nestled among the Slick Hills. One of their first activities at the old Cache Creek Church—formerly named Albert Horse Memorial Church—was scooping water and muck from the flooded basement where the congregation shared meals. That the old building was getting dilapidated was demonstrated one Christmas when Santa Claus fell through the rotting wooden staircase into the basement!75 According to Reverend Tsatoke, sometime in the 1970s a woman from Indiana diagnosed with cancer heard about the church and through a vision was told to come help the Indians. Following this revelation, her parishioners decided to adopt Cache Creek Church as a special project, so they sent a construction crew that built a new chapel in a week. The woman got well, but her church continued to sponsor the Kiowa church.76 Dorothy recalled that over one hundred people from Indiana led by Gene Gilbert came to build the new chapel in the spring of 1977.77 While I was visiting Dorothy and her friend Patsy Sankadota Tehauno (1929–2016) at Cache Creek Church in June 2004, a youth group from Birmingham, Alabama, stopped by the dining hall attached to the chapel. The group had been in the area during the previous week cleaning and repairing some of the Indian Methodist churches in the area, and they came to bid Dorothy farewell on their way out of town. Before leaving they sang some songs, then Dorothy testified her faith, mesmerizing the young people.78 In July 2003 a mission group from Illinois camped on the grounds of Rainy Mountain Baptist Church while assisting the annual Vacation Bible School; they returned the next year as well.79 Later that month Rev. Ken Sullivan was expecting an Assembly of God Group from Pennsylvania to help at Redstone Baptist Church.80 Contemporary church camps are a throwback to former times, when early missionaries like Crawford and Methvin spent a good part of their lives in Indian encampments. They are also reminiscent of the Ghost Dance “missions,” such as the one west of Carnegie at the bend of the Washita River, or even encampments associated with Indian dances and Peyote meetings. Ironically non-Indians have adopted Indian customs they once thought detrimental to the “civilization” of Indian peoples. Church camps attracting out-of-state church groups have become commonplace in Kiowa country. Perhaps the largest church camps are 212 AFTER WORLD WAR II

held each summer at Redstone Baptist Church, home of Redstone and ArrowHawk Ministries, and the annual ArrowHawk Youth Camp. In 1983 Reverend Sullivan, a non-Indian married to a Kiowa, took over the congregation after Rev. Victor Paddlety (1921–84) had a heart attack, forcing him into retirement. Sullivan said that within a year a groundbreaking ceremony was held for a new gymnasium. Among the Kiowas in attendance were Garfield Little Chief (head deacon), Larry Kotay (deacon), Alice Littleman, Winiford Littleman, Grace Lonewolf, and David Paddlety. At the time no one in the congregation of this small mission church, sans parsonage, even remotely envisioned a youth camp, let alone an outreach center, probably because the gymnasium would not be completed for another eighteen years. After this period of stasis everything happened all at once. In November 1996 an old army barrack donated to the church from Fort Sill was attached as a dining hall. Between 2000 and 2001 two cabins were completed by members of Christ’s American Baptist Church from Spring Grove, Pennsylvania. During a nine- day period in March 2002 the ArrowHawk Recreation Center—complete with indoor swimming pool, basketball court, locker rooms, and main office—was completed. Also known as the Julie Richardson Memorial Building, the gymnasium was built from donated building materials and volunteer labor, including five skilled Mennonite carpenters. During the summer of 2003 three church groups came to complete the remaining cabins.81 Upon completion in 2004, Redstone–ArrowHawk was on its way to becoming a self-supporting ministry and Native American conference center. Since 1996 Redstone has sponsored the annual ArrowHawk Youth Camp, attracting local youth to learn the gospel while engaging in sports and other activities designed to get them off the streets. Sullivan’s son David, who assists in running the camp, describes the purpose of ArrowHawk: The name ArrowHawk has precise meaning relating to our focus and new visions for the youth and families of our community. The arrow is a basic tool that can be constructed from natural resources and it has a defined purpose. It requires skill and patience to implement effectively, and it gets the job done. AFTER WORLD WAR II 213

The hawk, or bird of prey, has always been a symbol of power and strength. Through flight, the hawk is able to see the landscape, focus on a target, and seek results in a swift, efficient manner. By combining the imagery of the arrow with the capacities of the hawk, we have the embodiment of a perfect hunter, a soaring entity, equipped with sharp, guided arrow points or talons. ArrowHawk is an aggressive approach toward the tactics of our spiritual enemy and the believer method of love and solutions for our contemporary youth, families, tribes, and communities.82 Reverend Sullivan’s goal is to develop an outreach program training youth to conduct “spiritual warfare” in Indian country. In 1989 spiritual warfare was “ratified” as a “legitimate activity in world evangelizing,” which perceives the importance of “aggressive prayer” in the fight against evil “in the invisible realm” (McAlister 2016, 120). Three levels of evil have been addressed by spiritual warfare: “ground-level” warfare, or “casting out evil through deliverance prayer”; “occult-level” warfare to combat “mid-level formations,” like witchcraft and shamanism; and “strategic-level” or “territorial-level” warfare against highlevel territorial spirits in larger geographical regions, such as cities or nations (McAlister 2016, 120; DeBernardi 1999, 67). Regarding occultlevel spiritual warfare, some evangelicals perceive “Christian animism” or the “fusion of shamanism and Christianity” as a pagan practice. Though shamanism is a “rare and marginal social practice” in North America, spiritual warfare usually consists of “intercession,” or praying “on behalf of others” (DeBernardi 1999, 71, 73). Reverend Sullivan did not elaborate on these practices, though he did bemoan the dearth of Indians attending church services today. ArrowHawk’s emphasis on sports is reminiscent of the church baseball leagues that were very popular from the 1920s until midcentury, as discussed by Jake Ahtone and Raymond Tongkeamha. During this period practically every Kiowa church sponsored a baseball team. Since churches also served as community centers, each team played an average of two games on Saturdays and Sundays. Practically all Kiowa males played baseball. Even Native American Church members played on church teams, like Allan Tsonetekoy, who was associated with Lone 214 AFTER WORLD WAR II

Wolf Mission, then Rainy Mountain Church; baseball was a community event. Certain individuals from this era are still remembered as outstanding players, especially Freddie Geionety, reputed to have forgone playing for the New York Yankees because he did not want to cut his braids! Weiser Tongkeamha donned his glove, fondly called “fry bread,” and played first base for the Saddle Mountain team. Baseball was so competitive during the 1920s that Comanche and Kiowa all-stars played every August during the Craterville Fair. The Kiowa team was coached by Ralph Poolaw. When Craterville gave way to the Indian Exposition in Anadarko, an all-Indian tournament was formed, which continues to this day. Church leagues, however, faded into obscurity during the early years of World War II.83 Between 1945 and the early 1960s the steady out-migration of youth resulted in the inevitable collapse of the small farming communities scattered throughout Kiowa country, leaving the rural churches with elderly congregations, a trend that continues. Some churches, such as Elk Creek Baptist Church, south of Hobart, moved into town, whereas others, such as Saddle Mountain Baptist Church, disbanded. By 1962 the majority of the Saddle Mountain youth had moved to distant cities like Dallas, Fort Worth, San Antonio, and Los Angeles. According to Agatha Paddlety Bates, “they had to make a living, so they had to get out,” leading to declining attendance on Sundays.84 Lavena Tongkeamha Pewo, whose parents, Weiser and Henrietta Tongkeamha, were members of Saddle Mountain Church, remembered that in 1962 the Women’s American Baptist Home Mission Society sold the church and land to Rivers Reeder, whose ranch adjoined the quarter sections accommodating the church and cemetery. One Sunday a man waiting outside for services to end informed the congregation that the property had been sold and that the church would be closed.85 According to Dean Reeder, River’s son, who now owns the property, the mission board contacted his father and offered to sell him the property.86 Herbert Woesner, owner-operator of Eagle Park in nearby Cache, said that he offered to build Reeder a barn in exchange for the church and dining hall after learning that the old church was being converted into a hay barn.87 After striking a deal with Reeder, Woesner made preparations to move the church to his amusement park, eleven miles south, through AFTER WORLD WAR II 215

the Wichita Mountains. Before the old church could be hoisted onto a semi flatbed, however, a bulldozer was hired to clear out two bridges to facilitate the move over Saddle Mountain Creek. It took professional movers five days to move the church and dining hall west through Cooperton and south to Cache, a distance of forty-four miles. Woesner clearly remembered the first day of the move—November 22, the day President Kennedy was assassinated. One of the overnight stops was in front of a farmer’s barn, prompting the response “That’s the first time a church came to me!” Since 1963 the Saddle Mountain Church and dining hall have occupied the Ghost Town at Eagle Park, alongside Quanah Parker’s star house and other historic buildings Woesner collected. Over the years some congregations have met at the old church, but since Eagle Park closed in the early 1980s due to rising insurance costs, the old, weathered building has collected dust.88 For almost thirty years the Saddle Mountain Church allotment remained desolate, until Lavena Tongkeamha Pewo and Melissa Tongkeamha Kaulaity began meeting in a donated mobile home in the early 1990s. Family members still hold Sunday services in the trailer situated east of the old foundation. Today most of the rural churches scattered throughout Kiowa country suffer from low attendance, partially attributed to the out-migration of young people. Having attended Kiowa churches since 1987, I have noticed the low attendance (Kracht 1994, 337; Kracht 2000, 249–50), coinciding with observations made by Levy (1959, 116–17) in the late 1950s. Churches with declining attendance include Cache Creek Church. On May 3, 1987, I observed a service attended by seventeen adults (all over age forty) and three children; the head count for the week before was twentyfive.89 Reverend Tsatoke passed away in 1989. Afterward Dorothy Tsatoke Gray took over the church. During the summers of 2003 and 2004 no more than a handful of people—all elders except for the lay preacher— were in attendance. Since Dorothy’s passing in 2010, the church has largely been inactive. The recently revived Saddle Mountain Church, a Southern Baptist affiliate, has been attended mostly by members of the Tongkeamha extended family, numbering no more than eight to ten per Sunday.90 Even Ware’s Chapel west of Anadarko, one of the larger Kiowa churches, claiming as many as 450 members in the late 1980s, is lightly 216 AFTER WORLD WAR II

Fig. 8. Saddle Mountain Church, in Eagle Park, Cache, Oklahoma, ca. 2007. Photograph by the author.

attended now. During Palm Sunday services on April 12, 1987, there were only thirty-three adults and thirteen children.91 In the mid-1980s all Kiowa Methodist churches were attended by only 17 percent of the total membership on any given Sunday (Gomez 1985, 91–92), a statistic that has undoubtedly declined. According to Reverend Sullivan, 98 percent of all American Indians in the United States are not in church on Sundays. He suggested that this represents a trend toward secularism, a cosmological and symbolic shift.92 Over the past thirty years elders like Richard Stumblingbear have suggested to me that weekend powwows have contributed to declining church attendance.93 When powwows and warrior society dances became more popular in the late 1950s (see Meadows 1999; Lassiter 1998), there was some opposition from the elderly Kiowa Christian converts. These ardent Christians had been taught by the missionaries that one could not be a true Christian while still attending Indian dances; rupture was a dominant force in the churches. In 1987 Agatha Paddlety Bates described her strict upbringing by her father, David Paddlety, a minister at Redstone Baptist church: AFTER WORLD WAR II 217

We were born into the church, you might say, and that’s all we ever knew. We didn’t know what powwows were. Maybe we’d liked it if we knew what powwows were. But we didn’t until our elders died out. We kind of tasted the other life and we liked it. It was alright, nothing was wrong with it. But our elders were such faithful Christians that they did not want to straddle—something here and something there—they just wanted to be Christians, and that’s what they were and that’s what they wanted us to be. But like him [her husband, John Bates] and me, we were raised to be obedient to our elders and we didn’t know anything else. We didn’t know how to be rebellious, we never questioned. When we were told we had to do something, then we did. When it was Sunday, that was church day. For me, Sunday, the whole day was church day. Saturday was getting ready for church day. On Sunday evening, we had BYP [Baptist Young People]; the young adults met. . . . Wednesdays were women’s society meetings. On Wednesday nights they had prayer meetings . . . and this was all we knew. There might be a powwow here or a powwow there, we didn’t know. The only place we ever went was to the Indian fair, the [American Indian] Exposition.94 Like many of her generation raised in strict Christian homes where everyone closely followed the “Jesus road,” Agatha discovered that there was nothing in powwows that contradicted her Christian beliefs. Her story reflects how more people began to attend powwows in the early 1960s, following the passing of the generations of Kiowas active in the churches since 1888. In a similar fashion Evalu Ware Russell (1923–2000) was raised Christian and attended Rainy Mountain Baptist Church, where her uncle, Rev. Ted Ware, preached. Even though he disapproved of the Peyote religion and kept his children away from it, Evalu’s father, James Ware, allowed her to attend O-ho-ma dances with his mother, “a wonderful dancer” who “danced very hard with feeling.” This occurred sometime in the 1930s, when Evalu was in the seventh grade; until her death, Evalu, an ardent Christian, was an active participant in local powwows and warrior society dances, even after enduring quadruple bypass surgery in her later years.95 There are many comparable stories throughout the Kiowa community of many individuals learning to circumvent older, funda218 AFTER WORLD WAR II

mentalist views against dancing. Today a few Kiowas still do not attend powwows, although many steadfast Christians, like Dorothy Tsatoke Gray, observe and participate in powwows as long as there is no conflict with church on Sunday. Even pastors attend powwows, though some, like Rev. Charles “Nick” Quoetone, a Methodist, attended when asked to say the mealtime prayer but would leave shortly afterward.96 Reverend Tsatoke told me that he used to Gourd Dance whenever he felt like it, but avoided dances after becoming a Christian, though in the 1980s he was chaplain for the Black Leggings Warrior Society; he felt that participating in a powwow was analogous to drinking in a bar.97 Another Methodist minister, Robert Pinezaddleby (1922–2004), grew up in a Christian household where dancing was tolerated—his father, David Pinezaddleby, was a preacher and a singer—and he participated in dances until his passing.98 Amos Aitson, who was raised in the Holiness faith, remembered being left with his paternal great-grandfather, Mokeen, who taught him about the Sun Dance. Sometimes he stayed with his maternal grandfather, Freddie Geionety, a member of the O-ho-ma Society. Spending a good part of his life in the ministry—he also served as chaplain for the Black Leggings—Aitson’s religious views never conflicted with dancing. Besides, he believed that all Indian songs “worship the Creator that made the human race,” whether they belong to the Ghost Dance, the Sun Dance, or the O-ho-ma Society.99 This reflects an Indian ecumenism. Perhaps the breakdown of older, fundamentalist beliefs has caused some to think that powwows are quasi-religious ceremonies, according to Aitson’s convictions. Agatha Paddlety Bates even suggested that younger Indians—as well as non-Indians—think that going to a powwow is the same as attending church and are probably confused since prayers are usually rendered at dances before meals and at other appropriate times.100 Most Christians and Peyotists who attend powwows today, however, perceive them as secular dances following Indian traditions that do not conflict with religion. Many also agree that powwows are partially responsible for declining church attendance, although there could be other factors, such as youth and urbanization.

AFTER WORLD WAR II 219

Conclusion Indigenized Christianity and Spirituality As discussed earlier, “classic” revitalization movements are politicalreligious movements triggered by culture change brought about by colonialism. New religions that appear feature coalesced symbols from the indigenous and colonial cultures, which reflect how people rationalize a new world order in which they have assumed a minority status. Conditions were rife for the Ghost Dance movement that appeared in Oklahoma Territory in 1890 and persisted until 1916 among the Kiowas. The demise of the Southern Plains bison herds in the late 1870s, confinement to a reservation under U.S. Army supervision, the collapse of the Sun Dance, and the failure of prophets to bring back the buffalo were all nodes, “or points of articulation around which revitalization and religious change can occur” (Glowacki 2011, 69). Deprivation and stress partially describe this classic revitalization movement shaped by historic events. For the Kiowas, the Ghost Dance filled the vacuum left in the wake of the Sun Dance; it’s not surprising that the largest Ghost Dance in Kiowa history occurred in October 1890, three months after the uncompleted Sun Dance. In February 1891 Ä′piatañ tried to convince the Kiowas that the Ghost Dance would not restore equilibrium; some turned away from the religion, whereas others adhered to its mimetic qualities, connecting visionaries to deceased relatives. Akin to the prophet movements of the 1880s, the Ghost Dance failed to return the bison, deceased relatives, or the horse and buffalo culture. The “revived” Ghost Dance led by Afraid-of-Bears was definitely oppositional, in fact sometimes confrontational, as its members resisted conversion to Christianity and allotment, especially in the wake of the October 221

1892 Jerome Agreement that led to the “opening” of the KCA Reservation for homesteading. Involvement in the movement expressed Kiowa identity in opposition to federal assimilationist policies; Ghost Dancers adhered to tribal customs associated with the Hand Game, shamanism, and the War Dance, and they announced the second coming of Christ, to the dismay of the Christian missionaries. Similar to the Bannocks’ and Shoshones’ dance, the Kiowa Ghost Dance was a movement in which a forward-looking Native identity “emerged from the interplay of indigenous understandings (social, political, economic, and religious), social forces, and contingent events” (Smoak 2006, 192). Smoak observes that “[the Ghost Dance] provided a flexible doctrine that held the power to explain native people’s current situation and prophesy their survival. It could be used to rally resistance to the cultural oppression of the assimilation program as well as draw together socially and politically diverse individuals in a reservation community. And it held the power to unite ethnically plural peoples as Indians” (196). Moreover the revived Ghost Dance was initially popular because it involved fugue states and communication with kinfolk in the spirit world, particularly children who had died in epidemics. Despair caused by the loss of relatives undoubtedly prompted many Kiowas to participate in Ghost Dance rituals. However, since Kiowas are ambivalent toward ghosts, it’s surprising that they engaged in mimetic rituals to visit with the dead. Navajos fear ghosts and had nothing to do with the Ghost Dance (Hill 1944). By the 1920s interest in the Ghost Dance had diminished, though some dances were staged at local Indian fairs, like the 1929 performance at Craterville Park near Cache, Oklahoma (Young 1981, 282), which signifies secularization of the dance now relegated to a tourist attraction. Perhaps the Kiowas believed that discontinuing the Ghost Dance would appease Superintendent Stinchecum and divert his scrutiny from the War Dance, which had become more popular; the Ghost Dance had simply lost its appeal and was not worth keeping anymore. From another perspective, the Ghost Dance lacked the power to heal, which is an attribute of Peyote and Christianity. Kiowas interviewed in 1935—Peyotists, Christians, and bundle keepers—described the Ghost Dance as a religion that was abandoned in favor of more powerful religions. Even the songs—reworked Sun Dance songs—were transformed into Christian hymns, as former 222 CONCLUSION

members became Christians. Elders I interviewed between 1987 and 1993 suggested that their ancestors were merely confused and that the Ghost Dance was a stepping stone toward Christianity. Peyotism and Christianity first made inroads in the Mount Scott community, where proselytizers for both religions spread the new traditions. Peyotism was not readily accepted by many Kiowas, and its neophytes were harassed by the Sons of the Sun. Early Christian converts also opposed the Peyote religion. By the mid-twentieth century conflicts between Peyotists and Christians were replaced by political factions that still exist today. Like the Ghost Dance, the Peyote religion was also ridiculed by missionaries, Kiowa Agency personnel, BIA officials, and friends of the Indian who misunderstood the tenets of the religion and stereotypically associated tipi meetings with disease, lack of sanitation, and sexual immorality. Because revitalization movements can have negative outcomes, sorcery and shamanic attacks were adversarial intergroup interactions associated with the Peyote religion through the early twentieth century. Nevertheless the Peyote religion survived because its adherents found inner peace through ritual expression, which allowed them to deal with the new social order. Peyotism fits in well with tribal traditions and is valued for its teachings and Peyote’s medicinal properties. As an “expressive” or “redemptive” movement, Peyotism is not confrontational, though its members are proactive in defending their religious beliefs. With the assistance of anthropologists and other supporters, Peyotism was acknowledged during the Oklahoma statehood convention, became institutionalized with the charter of the Native American Church, and has withstood anti-Peyote legislation and an unfavorable Supreme Court ruling. The right of Natives to worship as members of the Native American Church is now protected by the 1994 American Indian Religious Freedom Act Amendments. Compared to Christianity, the Native American Church is not a public religion, nor do its practitioners proselytize or recruit. Evidence of NAC affiliation can be observed in the red-blue Peyote blankets worn around the shoulders of Gourd Dancers, women’s shawl designs, and other articles of clothing and jewelry worn by men and women. Sometimes NAC members are asked to pray before meals at public gatherings or to bless new construction projects, but so are Christians. Peyote meetings are still CONCLUSION 223

conducted on scattered Kiowa allotments. News about tipi meetings is disseminated through the network of extant Peyotists in southwestern Oklahoma and beyond; outsiders are advised not to ask about Peyote or the Native American Church. Early one Saturday morning in May 1993 I drove up the dirt lane to Gus Palmer’s house. Upon reaching my destination I espied Gus and two of his sons scurrying about with tipi poles and the canvas tipi covering. Oops! They were preparing for a meeting that night and didn’t need to be bothered. Hastily bidding them farewell, I promptly turned around and left; we would visit another time. Back in 1987 Gus and I had made an agreement: he would enlighten me about the Native American Church, and I would never attempt to attend a Peyote meeting. His rationale was that anthropologists who were part of the pro-Peyote lobby had attended so many Peyote meetings that there wasn’t anything worth writing about. In reality I knew that Gus believed a non-Indian like myself has no place in a Peyote meeting. He was right. Incipient Christianity was a revitalization movement brought about by individuals and small groups—missionaries and mission societies. Just as they had resisted the Peyote religion, many Kiowas initially resisted conversion to Christianity, so it spread slowly, from person to person and family to family. Like any religion, Christianity did not spread all at once. As noted by Michael McNally (2000, 845) and Clyde Ellis (2002, 54), Native Christianity is not a product but a “process” of culture change. Some adopted the new religion—the religion of the oppressor—because they were dissatisfied with older traditions: the Sun Dance religion had collapsed, and the prophets and the Ghost Dance had failed to restore the horse and buffalo culture. Others believed they found a new source of supernatural power that was not hierarchical. Moreover there were attributes of healing and living a healthy lifestyle in Christianity, just like the Peyote religion. The number of Christians increased in the midtwentieth century, whereas NAC membership began to decline by the end of the century. Christian practices are public and easily observable. When I first started conducting interviews in January 1987, Christians were very welcoming, and still are. Today all Kiowas are at least nominally Christian and can claim affiliation with a family church (see Ellis 2002, 66–67). That so 224 CONCLUSION

many follow Christian traditions today, however, doesn’t mean they have forsaken their culture. Saying that one religion supplants another is too simplistic. As Lee Irwin (2008, 5) explains, “Native spirituality has been in a constant process of adaptation to colonization and settlement for a period of more than 450 years.” Native peoples are resilient because they have the ability to resist, accommodate, and innovate traditions. A closer examination of Christian practices since the first missionaries arrived demonstrates why the Kiowas became Christians and how former traditions were modified and melded with Christian practices. Why the Kiowas Became Christians Given the history of campaigns to eradicate Native religions and cultural practices, one might wonder why Kiowas converted to Christianity, the religion of the oppressor. The simple answer is that those who accepted the new religion did so on their own terms (see Treat et al. 1996). In his study of early Kiowa Christianity, Ellis (2002, 53) posits that mission groups were largely successful in gaining converts due to “leading Kiowa figures” who served as interpreters and ministers, as well as heroic and effective missionaries, particularly women like Isabel Crawford. He also credits the “role of the church in establishing and maintaining community identity” and increasing tolerance toward Native practices by the mid-twentieth century. Indeed all played significant roles in the conversion process, though Ellis does not explain why Kiowa leaders bothered to convert in the first place. A closer look at the works of Reverend J. J. Methvin and Isabel Crawford—pioneer missionaries—reveals that the early Kiowa converts were attracted by the good works of the missionaries, especially those who spent time in their communities. During Crawford’s ten years among the Saddle Mountain Kiowas, she developed deep personal relationships with them; her devotion to the community was so strong that she requested to be interred in Saddle Mountain Cemetery after her passing. Methvin has a church named after him. Undoubtedly the good works and charisma of the missionaries were instrumental in building church communities. More important, the missionaries were connected to a new and powerful source of dɔdɔ: the Christian God. Pioneer missionaries initially faced difficulties establishing rapport with the Indians living in dispersed settlements on the KCA ReserCONCLUSION 225

vation, especially since so many resisted converting to Christianity. Nevertheless the undaunted bravery and determination of the missionaries ultimately earned them a modicum of respect. Crawford demonstrated her fearlessness of “wild blanket Indians” at Saddle Mountain and proved her sincerity and dedication by helping them make the transition from tipis to houses. The Saddle Mountain Kiowas were particularly impressed that Crawford did not fear being scalped and were somewhat dismayed that she was not visibly shaken by graphic stories of Kiowa warriors dashing the heads of white babies against trees. Like the Quaker Thomas Battey, Crawford was not intimidated by tales of brutality but made friends through her sincerity and kindness, which was instrumental in her work. Friendship and helpfulness— the good qualities of missionaries—helped gain numerous converts; some neophytes even stood before their people at prayer meetings and testified about their newfound faith in the Christian God and voiced support for the missionaries. On a humorous note, some missionaries were difficult to understand. For instance, Reverend Gassaway’s loud exhortations during his sermons convinced the Indians that he was angry with them (Nye 1937, 267). Through their good works, field matrons also played a critical role in gaining the confidence of Kiowas, especially the women. During the transition from tipis to houses, Agency employees had never properly instructed Indians how to care for their new homes, and the increasingly sedentary Kiowas faced the inherent health problems connected with the accumulation of human waste and debris, new concerns for once mobile hunters pursuing migratory bison herds. Field matrons instructed the women in basic household cleaning and sanitation and also taught them the home industries of canning, cooking, and baking. As a result KCA Indians learned how to live in their homes while being exposed to Christian values espoused by the field matrons. Jesus apparently was perceived as a guardian spirit protecting people from harm, although his powers were available to everyone, not just a select few; there was parity in the Jesus road, for one did not have to seek his powers through the vision quest. Jesus was also portrayed as a human who endured suffering too, like the Kiowas. In the following testimonial from a Saddle Mountain camp meeting, Jesus is identified as a positive 226 CONCLUSION

spirit force opposed to the devil, a negative force possibly linked to the ornery side of Saynday, the Kiowa trickster: “‘When me and Jesus was out ploughing,’ said Poor Buffalo, ‘the devil got mad and put a piece of barbed wire before us. I sat right down and told the Great Father about it. Then I tore a piece off my shirt, tied up my hand and me and Jesus went on with the work’” (quoted in Crawford 1915, 64). Significantly Poor Buffalo’s testimonial demonstrates his acceptance of Christianity and farming, both alien to the Kiowas. It also suggests that individuals could develop personal relationships with Jesus, who was their friend and helper, analogous to dream spirits of the horse and buffalo days. Conversely the devil, a mischievous character, perhaps a sorcerer, represents opposition to Christian lifeways. Crawford described other testimonials supporting the concept of the devil as a sorcerer and Jesus as a friend (possibly a guardian spirit). One Kiowa even lamented that the devil had sent a cyclone to destroy his home because he failed to follow the Jesus road (Crawford 1915, 145). When the Saddle Mountain Church cornerstone was dedicated in 1902, a list of charter members was placed inside. Fearful that the devil would temp the new converts to fall back into their old ways, an interpreter prayed, “Keep your eye on our names [on the church rolls] so the devil will not scratch my name out” (Crawford n.d., 55). Undoubtedly the most attractive quality possessed by the missionaries was their relationship to their God. Kiowa converts learned that God has powers to heal the sick and that deceased Christians “live with Jesus,” two concepts that were particularly appealing to them. The converts readily accepted that family members who passed away lived with Jesus in Heaven and were patiently waiting for the rest of the family to join them. Parents were particularly relieved that children who had recently died were living with Jesus, as revealed by a woman who told Crawford (n.d., 15), “It is true that Jesus has our children and this makes me try so hard to follow him.” During the 1890s KCA encampments were periodically plagued by outbreaks of measles, smallpox, and other viral and bacterial infections; children were highly susceptible to these diseases connected to increased contact with outsiders. For instance, several missionaries witnessed firsthand the measles epidemic of 1892 that killed over three hundred KCA children. Methvin described the scene around Anadarko: CONCLUSION 227

On the river bottom and out on the prairie where their teepees and summer booths were pitched, the wail of sorrow was heard, as “Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not.” . . . Thousands of dollars’ worth of property was destroyed at the graves in honor of the dead, until out on the hill north of Anadarko, across the river, and in the present cemetery south of the city the ground was strewn with broken-up wagons, chairs, toys, etc., and the graves were filled largely with shawls and blankets and many other things belonging to the deceased, and sometimes a horse was killed at the grave. And then the most pitiable sight was to see relatives with arms cut and bleeding from the shoulder to the wrist, and often one or two finger ends chopped off. (Methvin n.d.a, 79) As the missionaries established rapport in some Kiowa communities, parents began bringing their sick children to them as a last resort, as Crawford (1915, 56) reported at Saddle Mountain: “They had heard of the arrival of a Jesus woman at Aitson’s camp and after everything else had failed, came with their sick and their broken hearts.” Following older customs, the people sought the services of shamans and Peyote doctors, though oftentimes their attempts to treat introduced diseases were unsuccessful, as exemplified in Methvin’s (n.d.a, 79) account of the 1892 measles outbreak: “They did not know how to treat the disease, and the very thing that the medicine man did for the cure of the afflicted killed them instead. Their remedy was to dip the child in water, or pour a bucket of cold water upon it while hot with fever and the measles covering the body. It was difficult to stop them from this treatment, and many were needlessly destroyed before sane measures could be resorted to.” Methvin failed to demonstrate how this practice was detrimental to children, though his analysis is suspiciously redolent of James Adair’s account describing how numerous Cherokees perished during the 1738– 39 smallpox outbreak by taking sweat baths, then plunging into the cold waters of a river; this oft-cited account has become the standard explanation for alleged failures of Indian doctoring techniques (Kelton 2015, 10–11, 61– 62). Nevertheless infant mortality rates were high during the reservation period, as Domot, a Saddle Mountain convert, suggested to Crawford (1915, 75–76): “Dropping his head gently upon my shoulder he 228 CONCLUSION

wept silently for some time and then signed: ‘My little girl is dead. Jesus has carried her up. I have lost many children and have always been afraid when they died. This time I’m not afraid. You have told me the true road. I know now that my little ones are with Jesus. He knows what is best. I am not afraid but my heart cries.’” Domot’s testimony also confirms his conversion to Christian beliefs. Whereas the Ghost Dance was a conduit for communicating with deceased children, those who converted to Christianity felt it was better for the dead to live in Heaven. Tending to sick and dying children was a benevolent act that helped the missionaries win confidence and converts. Old Man Stumbling Bear, lamenting his wife’s blindness and his son’s approaching death, prayed in his customary fashion to the new God, giving thanks for the Jesus women: Just as the sun peeped above the eastern horizon poor old Stumbling Bear hobbled from his tepee and with hands held towards the sun and the heavens (the attitude of worship) called so all the sleeping camp could hear: “Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus! The Jesus women have been kind to us; we are poor and sick and they have made our hearts glad! Thank you, Jesus for all the Jesus women everywhere.” (Crawford 1915, 108) Although numerous Kiowas converted to Christianity in the early twentieth century, many remained unconvinced of the power of the white man’s God until they had tangible evidence, a skepticism founded in indigenous notions that reputable shamans could demonstrate the strength of their dɔdɔ through healing and public displays of power. Analogous to earlier times, recovery from a serious illness provided evidence for some that the Christian god was powerful, as evidenced by numerous stories of conversion based on the healing attributes of the new religion. Hunting Horse allegedly converted to Christianity upon regaining his eyesight: Hunting Horse had gone blind, and at his request he was taken up on Mt. Sheridan, after the “old Indian way” of becoming a medicine man. He prayed and sacrificed to the “Great Spirit” for four days. Cecil CONCLUSION 229

[his son] explained that “they had to go the hard way because they believe that some way God would bless them, even although it might be an idol-worshiper.” After four days his sight was restored. Hunting Horse then went to Methvin, “one of his great friends,” and told him he wanted to be baptized because the Great Spirit had returned his sight. (Forbes 1985, 72) Hunting Horse’s conversion exemplifies the syncretic “fusion of native tradition and Christian claims” (Forbes 1985, 72) since he used traditional practices to approach the Christian God for help. Today many families throughout Kiowa country recall stories of how family members converted to Christianity following recovery from illnesses or near-death experiences attributed to the new God. Recognizing the dɔdɔ of the Christian God, therefore, was the primary motivation for converting to Christianity. Like any shaman, the missionaries had to prove themselves, and once certain Kiowas were convinced that Christianity was a worthwhile religion, they tenaciously clung to it, even though some individuals switched back and forth between Peyotism and Christianity. As Thomas Spear (1999, 6) notes, conversion is marked by a “wide range of possible shifts in religious affiliation.” In her diary Crawford (1915) relates that some Kiowas wanted to test the new religion before accepting it. One day she asked a group of Kiowas if they were willing to become Christians, and an interpreter replied, “‘There are no Christians here. We worship a different way. The news you have brought is very wonderful, but Indians do not hurry to pick up new roads. We must take time to think it over carefully and they we will give you an answer’” (41). This response illustrates a reticence to adopt any religion until it proves itself, a process that might take some time. In indigenous times Kiowas beseeched animistic powers through prayer for well-being and healing. Like Stumbling Bear, Domot prayed to Jesus in the early morning in the same way he formerly supplicated Sun, demonstrating how Kiowa notions of dɔdɔ shifted to Jesus, the divine helper who came to help the pitiful Kiowa converts assisted by the missionaries. Traditionally Kiowas believed that seeking power in a pitiful manner showed respect for dream spirits, so it was not unusual for supplicants to cry while praying. When the early Kiowa converts attended 230 CONCLUSION

camp meetings held under tents and arbors, they quickly amalgamated the tradition of crying while praying into their petitions to the Christian God; tearful invocations fit in well with Christian testimonials, which were public confessions and proclamations of faith. Unfortunately missionaries did not fully understand or appreciate the significance of crying while praying, a practice that continues today. N. Scott Momaday (1969, 10) describes Aho, his grandmother, offering tearful prayers: The last time I saw her she prayed standing by the side of her bed at night, naked to the waist, the light of a kerosene lamp moving upon her dark skin. Her long, black hair, always drawn and braided in the day, lay upon her shoulders and against her breasts like a shawl. I do not speak Kiowa, and I never understood her prayers, but there was something inherently sad in the sound, some merest hesitation upon the syllables of sorrow. She began in a high and descending pitch, exhausting her breath to silence; then again and again—and always the same intensity of effort, of something that is, and is not, like urgency in the human voice. Kiowas still pray to God in a “pitiful” manner, as do other Native Americans. Until her passing in 2010, Dorothy Tsatoke Gray could bring a roomful of people to tears listening to her personal testimony and emotive prayers. In 1986 Ed Williams, from Lincoln, Nebraska, accompanied me to Clifton Tongkeamah’s home in Carrollton, Texas, for Thanksgiving dinner; to this day he recalls the heart-wrenching prayer before the meal spoken by one of the elderly Kiowa guests! Tearful testimonials, however, paled in comparison to the wailing or keening of grieving relatives at funerals, which deeply touched the missionaries witnessing such occurrences. Crawford (1915, 78–79) was particularly moved when Domot and some Kiowa elders expressed their condolences when her mother died: Coming sadly out of my tent this morning I was surrounded by a number of old Indian men wrapped in faded blankets. They had laid aside their bright colors to show sympathy in their own way. CONCLUSION 231

Fig. 9. Dorothy Tsatoke Gray, quilting at Cache Creek Methodist Church, ca. 2007. Photograph by the author.

Placing a brown arm about me and pressing my aching head upon his shoulder . . . Domot prayed while the others cried aloud. “O Great Spirit! Our lettle [sic] Jesus woman has lost her mother and her heart is all broken to pieces. Gather it together again and put it back strong. You have given her to us now and we will take the best care of her we know how. That is all. I have spoken.” How I cried! . . .  Sob followed sob and the climax of misery was reached when I felt Domot’s warm tears falling down my cheek and neck. A convulsion seized me. Then wonder of wonders! Into my heart there crept gently, silently, sweetly, a perfect calm. Tears ceased, a big sigh escaped and love was born. A love for the Indians not my own. Again such experiences were not—and are not—unusual in churches scattered throughout Kiowa country.

232 CONCLUSION

Although the missionaries were awed by the keening of heart-stricken Kiowas, they were completely appalled by the acts of self-mutilation associated with mourning customs, compelling them—particularly those closest to the Anadarko Agency—to summon the Indian police to monitor funerals to prevent such acts of self-torture. Methvin (n.d.a, 58–59) reported an unfortunate incident that occurred in 1888 when he was preaching near the agency: One afternoon, near where the old commissary building now stands we had a great crowd to listen to us as we read and explained appropriate portions of the Scriptures to them. As we broke up, some went away approving, but the great crowd went away angry and predicting “bad medicine” against us for trying to get the Indians on this new way. Confirming, as they thought, the medicine man’s prediction of evil against us, the next afternoon, about the same hour of our meeting the evening before, Etalye Dunmoe [Etälyidónmo] died very suddenly. Receiving information of his death, I hurried to his home. There were perhaps two hundred men and women at the place, howling like the wild wail of the lost. The women had stripped themselves down to their waists, and with sharp knives were cutting their arms down to the wrists from the shoulders, and numbers of them cut off the ends of their fingers. The men were also torturing themselves. They were piling up the things belonging to the deceased preparatory to burning them, and were stayed only by a police force sent by the United States Agent. But their purpose was stayed only for a time, for next day when we went away to bury the body on the high hill across the river north of Anadarko, the police left the premises, and the Indians set fire to the property of the deceased, and it was all consumed.1 Like many missionaries of his time, Methvin encountered some resistance from the Kiowas. Once again the death of a Kiowa affiliated with whites was attributed to sorcery; Etälyidónmo was the first Carlisle graduate— Joshua Given was the second—to die after serving as an interpreter. Likewise Methvin was appalled by the self-mutilation and loud wailing

CONCLUSION 233

of the mourners. Vehemently opposed to “pagan” practices, he and his contemporaries worked hard to change mourning customs among the Indians (Vernon 1980–81, 395–96). Similar to the passing of Etalye Dunmoe, Anna Fait described the death of Joshua Given in 1893, which she attributed to tuberculosis he contracted from living in the East, contrary to the Kiowa belief that he was killed by sorcery. Nevertheless she did admit that Kiowa shamans had put a “hoodoo” on Given for becoming a Christian, then proclaimed that he would be cured if he recanted his new religion and went to a shaman for treatment. Straddling two worlds, Joshua finally acquiesced and was taken into a sweat lodge to purge the “evil spirit” in him, but it was too late because his condition had worsened: The Indians didn’t want him to die in camp, so they brought him back to us where he was given every care. Finally, Joshua realized he was sinking fast and begged Mr. Fait to take Howard and me to safety, fearing the Indians might injure us. All the Indians hated his white wife, so we locked her and her two children in one of the rooms, with all the things with which they could injure themselves or her, and sent a white man that was passing by for the Indian police. This was barely accomplished when we heard the Indians coming over the hill, shrieking their horrible death cry. The police disarmed them all. Having nothing with which to mutilate their bodies, they went back to camp, there to cut and slash their bodies in a horrible manner.2 Other contemporary accounts of Kiowa funerals reveal more about the mourning customs observed by Fait. They describe how the possessions of the deceased were broken and placed in the grave or were stacked up and burned, as was the tipi where death occurred. Horses were killed over the grave sites of prominent men. Observers also likened the incessant keening of the women to “weird cries and wild orgies that sounded like the wail of human despair from the lost world.” Acts of self-mutilation in which fingertips were snipped off and arms slashed “from the shoulders down to the wrists” appalled the missionaries (Conover 1927, 52; Moore 234 CONCLUSION

1945, 74–76; Burdette 1895, 23). Due to their Western bias, the missionaries deemed these customs unsuitable. Crawford (1915, 56–57), who lived at least a day’s journey from the agency and Fort Sill Subagency, offered mourners an alternative to amputating their fingers and gashing limbs: On the afternoon of February 16th [1897], as the sun was sinking behind the hills, I entered the tepee to see this little one take three breaths and die. The sting of death is the same [the] world over, and these stricken parents after placing the lifeless body in my arms gave themselves over to uncontrollable weeping. Mingling my tears with theirs I signed: “Jesus has taken your child to sit down with him. He does not want you to cut off your fingers. He wants you to give your hearts to Him.” Over the years the missionaries eventually persuaded the Kiowas to cease self-mutilation during mourning rites, and even though some individuals continued to sever finger joints when close relatives died, the cutting of arms and breasts in public became less frequent, as suggested by a testimonial made at a Saddle Mountain camp meeting: “After the missionaries came they told us about Jesus and His Father and then we knew. Before that it was very hard for us. When anybody died we cut our bodies, cut our fingers off and burned everything, but after the missionaries came these things passed away. To-day I have been thinking how much better it is for my people to have the gospel” (quoted in Crawford n.d., 12–13). Lucius Aitson, the first Kiowa Baptist minister, who was pastor at Saddle Mountain Baptist church from 1913 until his death in 1918, wrote to Agent Randlett in 1901 describing how the Saddle Mountain Kiowas changed their attitude toward death after becoming Christians: Before we heard of Jesus and Heaven when anybody died, we were afraid and galloped our horses to bury the body, and nobody hardly would go with it. Now it is all changed. We are not afraid of death, for it is only the gate into everlasting life, and we try all we can to show the poor lost ones the way to be saved. We buried our sister CONCLUSION 235

the Jesus way and did not follow the old road. All the Indians in the camp drove slowly one behind the other to the graveyard . . . and when we had prayed to Jesus and listened to His own words the body was buried, and we all went to our homes with sad hearts, but happy because we know our sister is safe at home with Jesus. (quoted in Crawford n.d., 36–37) Kiowa mourning customs have changed since individuals no longer mutilate their bodies or cut their hair short when a close relative dies. Wailing, or keening, at wakes and funerals is customary, especially when people walk past the casket at the front of the church during the final viewing; bereaved Kiowas do not hold back their tears. Despite the cessation of self-mutilation, early twentieth-century missionaries like Mary Clouse had a difficult time convincing Kiowas not to destroy or give away the property of the recently departed.3 Mary Buffalo said this was done to show the grief of the survivors, whereas Jimmy Quoetone and Mrs. Hokeah told Collier that property was destroyed because the deceased needed certain possessions in the spirit world.4 Missionaries, however, frowned upon the funeral custom of disposing of the deceased’s property. On March 26, 1918, Mary Clouse, whose husband split his time between the Baptist churches at Elk Creek and Rainy Mountain, wrote that the daughter of Henry Tanedooah had died the week before at his brother John’s house and that “the Indians just carried off everything even the groceries that they found in Henry’s house.” She feared for the family of Pickles Boyiddle, whose daughter was terminally ill: “I expect that when the end comes that the Indians there will just strip that house of all their nice furniture. . . . Neither Pickles nor Olive will have money to replace their furniture etc. They will be poor ideed [sic].” In response Superintendent Stinchecum wrote, “This practice is very prevelent [sic] amongst our Indians”; he believed that “only time [could] efface” this “deep-rooted” problem.5 Some continue the practice of giving away material possessions of the departed or conducting a giveaway ceremony at the grave site, which occurred at Weiser Tongkeamha’s funeral in March 1991.6 Today photographs of the person displayed throughout the house are put away and 236 CONCLUSION

are brought out only after the end of the mourning period, undoubtedly because the survivors miss the deceased and do not want a constant reminder of their loss; faded rectangular outlines on living room walls attest to this practice.7 For some the mourning period formally ends when the Kiowa shaman is summoned to bless the home. I visited Dorothy Tsatoke Gray a year after the passing of her husband, but only because her home had recently been “smoked” with cedar. Dorothy said that many elderly Kiowas still abstain from mentioning the name of the recently departed—as in indigenous times—and refer to him or her using euphemisms like “the person who left us.” She referred to her deceased husband as “my companion.”8 Some Kiowas still adhere to the custom of respecting deceased relatives by not attending or participating in public events like powwows and warrior society dances for up to a year. Eschewing such events often extends for a number of years if several family members have died within a short period of time. For instance, Raymond Tongkeamha did not Gourd Dance for several years after losing his parents, three brothers, and a sister between 1991 and 1995 and a son in 2001. He resumed dancing at the 2003 Kiowa Gourd Clan ceremonial.9 Following the passing of Clifton Tongkeamah on May 5, 1993, his mother, Henrietta, attended the Black Leggings warrior society ceremonial ten days later but remained in the car parked under a tree so she could at least enjoy listening to the songs. A cousin from Dallas, however, participated in the dance because Joe Big Bow had smoked his home with cedar that week. When I asked why he danced so soon after his cousin’s death, he responded, “The old ways are dying out.” Later informed of his comment, Henrietta said, “Oh, those urban Indians.”10 Traditional mourning customs continue to fade as many Kiowas now live in distant cities where some traditions are modified or lost. Notably revitalization movements have both positive and negative impacts on groups, as all are not affected the same. Not all Kiowas readily converted to the new religion, and some converts switched back to the Peyote religion after becoming disillusioned by the politics of Christian churches, especially interdenominational differences. Even Crawford (1915, 103– 4) referred to Baptists as the “Big-water” church, in contrast to the “Little-water-road” of other Protestants, particularly Methodists CONCLUSION 237

and Presbyterians. In 1906 two members of the Saddle Mountain Baptist Church withdrew their membership in reaction to a ruling by the mission board that Kiowa deacons could not serve holy communion without the supervision of ordained Baptist ministers. Crawford expended lots of energy convincing other members not to leave the church over the “Jesus Eat” controversy (Corwin 1958a, 134–37). When she allowed Lucius Aitson to administer communion she fell into disfavor with the other missionaries, which led to her reassignment; she left Saddle Mountain in December 1906 and harbored bitterness toward the mission board for the rest of her life (Ellis 1998, xvii). Some Kiowas did not become Christians because they practiced polygyny, contrary to the Christian—and government—emphasis on monogamous pairings. For instance, Crawford (1915, 72, 144, 153) wrote that Ä′piatañ believed that the Jesus road was the “true road,” though he could not join because he had two wives and was not willing to divorce one of them. Crawford recorded other instances where polygynous preferences prevented some Kiowas from becoming Christians. Perhaps the best known case that involved abandoning polygyny to become a Christian pertains to Hunting Horse, the noted Troop L scout at Fort Sill. Alice Marriott (1983, 216–21) related the painful decisionmaking process leading to his separation from his eldest wife so he could join Saddle Mountain Church. Today descendants of Hunting Horse and the younger wife, Pitma—they were sisters—carry the surname Horse, whereas descendants of Hunting Horse and the older sister, Pitoma, carry the name Tsatoke. I have met members of both sides of the family, and several, including Stanley Horse, Rev. John Tsatoke, and Dorothy Tsatoke Gray, have told me that the split created many hardships in both families.11 Among the denominations that endured into the twentieth century, the Baptist and Methodist churches were most widespread throughout Kiowa country, whereas the Catholic mission and boarding school were restricted to Anadarko and the Presbyterian mission was located farther east, toward Verden. Very few Kiowas today, except for a few living in Anadarko, are Catholic, and none in rural southwestern Oklahoma are Presbyterian since the mission faded into obscurity in the 1910s. During the reservation period, choosing a denomination had 238 CONCLUSION

more to do with geographic location than with church teachings, especially since converts commuted to church by horseback or wagon, restricting them to attending community churches in proximity to their homes. Extant churches from this period include Mount Scott Church, Rainy Mountain Church, and Saddle Mountain Church. Today family and community histories are inextricably linked to these and other mission churches. Kiowa Traditions in Indigenized Christianity As Christianity gained more Kiowa converts in the early twentieth century, some indigenous beliefs and customs were retained and integrated into the new religion: making pledges or promises to Christianity; a passion for living in tent or tipi communities; native doctoring; and beliefs in the malevolent powers of ghosts and owls. Christian Kiowas did not abandon these beliefs and practices, which demonstrates that new religions do not supplant older ones; instead Christian ideas were integrated into Native practices (McNally 2000, 834; Ellis 2002, 19). Kiowa traditions that were amalgamated into Christianity include the blending of traditional beliefs in animistic spirits with concepts of God, Jesus, the devil, and compatible beliefs in “faith healing” through prayer. As the early missionaries learned, pledging a commitment to the Christian faith was the Kiowa way of expressing dedication to the new religion. Pledges, formerly made before battle and during illness episodes, were now made by Christian converts, signifying how dedicated they were to their conversion. Methvin (1899, 67– 68) described an incident in which a Kiowa dedicated himself to the Christian God in the fashion of former Sun Dance pledges: An Indian arose one day in a camp-meeting being held by the Methodist missionaries and began wailing. After a little while he stopped suddenly and began to talk. “I vowed,” said he, “that I would come here and cry before your God, for I believe he is strong and can help me, and now I want to keep my promise and fulfill my vow; for I have had much sickness and the Indian medicine (or idol) has failed me. I want to turn to the white man’s God, for he is strong.” And then he continued wailing, thinking that was the correct way to get the ear of the white CONCLUSION 239

man’s God. He was endeavoring to carry out the ways of superstition in the worship of the true God. He wanted to pay his vow. He was afraid not to do it. He was taught the way of God more perfectly, and soon after professed his faith in Jesus and joined the church. Like his fellow missionaries, Methvin was intolerant toward Native “superstitions” in the ritual performances of converts. He also refused to understand indigenous beliefs and practices. Nevertheless the unnamed man specified that the main reason for pledging his faith in Christianity was to ward off sickness from his family. Based on prereservation Kiowa beliefs, vows were taken seriously, so fulfilling the pledge by praying to the God of the Methodists was his way of making a commitment to the new religion. Many Kiowas converted to Christianity because they appreciated the medical assistance rendered by the missionaries. Moreover the Christian notion of healing through prayer paralleled their practice of supplicating spirit forces. Missionaries like Methvin also performed funerals, and many converts favored the notion that they and their children would live with Jesus in Heaven after they died. Despite their intolerance of Native practices, the missionaries were connected with the new source of power: God. Crawford (1915) identified several types of pledges that emerged in her Saddle Mountain congregation: vows to sponsor “Big Eats,” or feasts for Jesus if a sick relative recovered; pledges to donate money to the church building fund; and pledges for a mission fund to support a mission among the Hopis. Although Crawford did not particularly relish Big Eats on Sundays, she attended one sponsored by Odlepaugh’s wife: “After the regular Sunday morning ‘Jesus talk’ Ananthy came forward and said: ‘When I was sick last winter I told Jesus if He would make me well I would kill a beef and call in all the Christians. . . . Jesus made me better and I had the meeting here to-day to thank Him and to give ten cents apiece for each of my children, for my husband, my son-in-law and my grandchildren. I want the money sent to the society that sends the Gospel to other tribes’” (91–92). Such pledges were made by many Saddle Mountain Kiowas to build their own church, especially after Lucius Aitson made the following speech to the Daw-kee-boom-gee-k’oop: 240 CONCLUSION

When Indians kill a beef and spend ten or fifteen dollars for groceries and pray to Jesus He doesn’t like it for He doesn’t get anything. If any of you Christians want to have a prayer-meeting in your houses tell us and we will all come and bring our own food and then you can give five cents or one dollar to the society to send the Gospel to somebody else. Jesus will like this better than if you eat it all up yourselves. (quoted in Crawford 1915, 90) Afterward pledging played a significant role in fund-raising efforts for a church building at Saddle Mountain: $1,000.00 was needed for materials and construction costs; $355.98 was obtained through personal pledges by congregation members, and another $311.63 was raised through the sale of hand-crafted quilts (Crawford 1915, 210). Ironically members of the Ghost Dance faction pledged money to the building fund, including Little Robe, leader of the Sugar Creek congregation. During services on Christmas Day 1900 he pleaded with other Kiowa attendees to give generously toward the new church, even if it meant selling a cow. Using an elaborate metaphor, Little Robe explained why he was not a Christian but that younger people should follow the new religion: I am like a wild horse. If a horse is not worked till it is old he is mean and will kick and run away every chance he gets. I am not very gentle and I don’t know why Jesus has not taken me on His road long ago. If the Holy Spirit don’t say anything in my heart and I give it to Jesus I will be very wicked. When the Holy Spirit comes into my heart nothing will hold me back. Young men, the Jesus road is good for you and I hope you will follow it. I am like a mean old horse, but I will always help with the money business. I will give $5.00 for the church for my little granddaughter. What’s the matter, some of you Christians have lots of children and lots of grass money and I see you give 5 cents, 10 cents, 25 cents, 50 cents, and $1.00. Why don’t you give a lot; that’s not enough. You will never build your church if you don’t give more! Why don’t you sell a cow or a horse and give all the money to Jesus and hurry up to build next summer. If you don’t hurry up some of you will be died and then what you going to do? Pull all you can on Jesus’ road, for all of us put our eye on CONCLUSION 241

you and if you go straight a lot of the unconverted will follow you. (quoted in Crawford n.d., 25) Pledging money toward churches demonstrates how new styles of architecture were necessary to accommodate changing religious beliefs and practices. Vows made on the battlefield is a practice reminiscent of the old horse and buffalo culture, when warriors pledged to sponsor a Sun Dance if they returned home unscathed. Kiowa soldiers sent overseas in the early to mid-twentieth century resumed this practice. Fighting on the battlefields of Europe toward the end of World War II, John Tsatoke (1920–89) observed Hitler’s wrath toward Jews when he helped liberate Dachau concentration camp near Munich and a Polish prison near Frankfurt, Germany. Serving with the 689th Field Artillery Battalion, Twentieth Corps as a code talker, he recalled communicating in Kiowa with a cousin in another outfit on walkie-talkies and hearing eavesdropping Germans swearing because they could not understand their conversations. Enduring combat and witnessing the atrocities of the war, John pledged to God that he would become a Christian if he came back alive. In appreciation for returning to Oklahoma to be reunited with his family, he dedicated himself “to labor for the Lord.” After his joyful return he joined the Methodist Church, working as a volunteer for seven years without pay before receiving deacon’s orders, then worked another five years before receiving elder’s orders. Then he was paid $85 a month as a circuit preacher for Cache Creek (then Albert Horse Memorial) and Botone Memorial. By the time of his death in 1989, Reverend Tsatoke had spent thirty-one years of his life preaching at fourteen Methodist churches. Because he had a wife and seven children to support, he performed manual labor and mended fences on local farms during his career as a minister. Despite many hardships, he dedicated his life to Christianity to fulfill his battlefield pledge.12 Pledging food for ceremonies and gatherings is another tradition that has continued into modern times. Analogous to the days of the horse and buffalo culture, when individuals promised to perform certain tasks during the Sun Dance or to sponsor feasts for the tribal medicine keepers and societies, pledging to provide food for church conferences—Peyote 242 CONCLUSION

meetings and powwows—is commonly practiced. Since today’s economy requires money to purchase all the food necessary to feed several hundred people for three or four days, cash pledges for the subsequent year’s event are announced at the end of each conference. According to Agatha Paddlety Bates, pledges guarantee the success of future events; without them, camp meetings and conferences could not be held.13 During camp meetings and revivals, the women make sure everyone in attendance is fed, going out of their way to invite strangers into their shelters to partake with them. Richard and Trina Stumblingbear acknowledged that foodways from the horse and buffalo culture could not be abandoned because asking others to share a meal is considered proper behavior.14 Wealth generated during the oil boom of the late 1970s and early 1980s benefited some Kiowa churches. Emma Ware Haury (1905–88) related how she became a millionaire after an oil strike on her allotment and pledged to build a new church, dining hall, and parsonage at Hog Creek after visiting the Holy Lands. Upon returning from Israel she donated almost $750,000 for the three buildings, solidly built of beautiful yellow brick within a year and formally dedicated in 1984. Billy Amauty said that Hog Creek Chapel was renamed Ware’s Chapel to honor her family.15 Emma’s generosity also extended to the first Black Leggings Warrior Society. During the May 1983 dance, each society member present was given a Pendleton blanket, the society princess was given an Indian pony, and Rev. Charles “Nick” Quoetone was presented with a brandnew dual-axle pickup truck.16 Another Kiowa custom incorporated into Christianity was the “camp around road,” or outdoor living in tents or tipis. Christian converts especially enjoyed the camp around road, often forming week-long encampments during summer “tent” meetings and holidays. Making the transition from tipis to houses was a gradual process due to Kiowa preferences for living in tipi or tent communities, compelling Indian agents and missionaries to urge them to cease the camping around road in the early twentieth century. Nevertheless large Kiowa encampments formed at the various community missions and churches. December 1893 is still commemorated as the first Christmas encampment at Rainy Mountain— near Big Tree’s house, since there were no church buildings—and the creation of the first Kiowa hymn, by Gotebo. Since Christmas emerged CONCLUSION 243

as a community celebration, it became a tradition to place large Christmas trees in the chapels where a trickster-like Indian Santa Claus gave away joke presents, followed by an exchange of gifts, many of which were donations from “missionary barrels” (Nahwooksy 1993). During Christmas services at Saddle Mountain Church in 2011, Raymond Tongkeamha talked about the old-time encampments around the church during Christmastime, remembering all the elders who had passed and the fellowship they had shared. He claimed that the Spirit is still there.17 In conjunction with indigenous beliefs that variant forms of dɔdɔ were not mutually exclusive, many early twentieth-century Kiowas maintained their worldview instead of abandoning certain traditions after converting to Christianity. Many nineteenth-century beliefs and customs—including Peyote doctoring—were continued by Christian Kiowas who felt that Indian traditions were important. For instance, Odlepaugh (Buffalo Bird) and his wife, Kol-an-on-da-mah (Buffalo Hoof Prints), lived near Saddle Mountain at the mouth of Odlepaugh Springs, which emanates from an underground source in the limestone Slick Hills.18 (Odlepaugh was one of four sons of Set’aide [White Bear], who committed suicide in Huntsville Prison in 1878.) On July 11, 1897, the couple sponsored a “Missionary Big Eat” to fulfill a pledge made by Kol-an-on-da-mah the previous winter to slaughter a beef if she recovered from an illness. After feeding Crawford and other Saddle Mountain converts, Odlepaugh stated that he had “converted straight” to Christianity (Crawford 1915, 91–92). In 1916 four-year-old Henrietta Apayyat went to live with Odlepaugh and Kol-an-on-da-mah after the passing of her mother. When Henrietta was six years old, she became ill, so her paternal grandparents, the Oyebis, took her to a Peyote meeting to be doctored; sitting behind her grandma during the meeting, she was fed Peyote, which she recalled was bitter. Despite this singular occurrence, Henrietta attended Saddle Mountain Church with Odlepaugh and Kol-an-on-da-mah. Henrietta also noted that Odlepaugh often fashioned cow horns used by Peyote doctors to treat pneumonia and to remove blood clots from legs. Her grandparents were thus able to attend church on a regular basis while maintaining relationships with the doctoring traditions of the Peyote religion.19 In some instances Indian practices were incorporated into Christian rituals. Baptism, for instance, became very popular among those attend244 CONCLUSION

Fig. 10. Raymond Tongkeamha by the mouth of Odlepaugh Springs, ca. 2007. Photograph by the author.

ing Baptist and Methodist churches. Henrietta recalled how Crawford made baptisms special when she performed them in the spring at the junction of two hills just north of Saddle Mountain Church. Innovating the Indian sweat bath technique, Crawford built a large fire to heat rocks, which were shoveled into the cool water to warm it up for the baptisms, since Baptists practice total immersion.20 Sometime in the early twentieth century baptismal rites were moved west of the church, to Odlepaugh Springs, a well-known landmark among Kiowas, especially those who grew up in the largely depopulated Saddle Mountain community. Elderly Kiowas remember being baptized in the cool spring waters (Hall 2000, 59). Henrietta’s husband, Weiser, and all their children were baptized at Odlepaugh Springs.21 More contemporary practices suggest that Indians in Oklahoma take the sacrament of baptism quite seriously. On April 10–11, 1987, I attended a weekend retreat at J. J. Methvin Memorial in Anadarko sponsored by the United Methodist Women’s Conference. Toward the end of the Friday night services, a Choctaw woman produced a jar conCONCLUSION 245

taining water from a local tributary of the Washita River. Explaining that Indians love to swim in rivers and that water is an important life force on earth, she summoned the other women to the front of the sanctuary to sprinkle some of the water on themselves while making the sign of the cross. Accompanied by piano playing, singing, and praying, the women went forward to purify themselves in the water; performing the Reaffirmation of Baptismal Vows symbolizes the act of being born again in the Holy Spirit. A healing rite led by descendants of Geronimo’s Chiricahua band—members of the United Methodist Church of Apache—occurred the same evening. After singing an Apache song, they stood at the altar and requested those with physical afflictions to come forward for the laying on of the hands. Several women came forward to lie down or kneel while the women touched their afflicted bodies and prayed. This episode of “faith healing” was accompanied by weeping and testimonials.22 As in traditional healing techniques, touching, singing, and praying are directed toward the benefit of the patient. Although many indigenous Kiowa beliefs and customs have been amalgamated into Christianity, some Kiowas have adopted Old World practices dating back to biblical times. For instance, during Sunday services at Cache Creek Church, Dorothy Tsatoke Gray and her assistants summoned worshipers to the altar and prayed for their well-being while anointing their heads with oil of frankincense and myrrh. According to Dorothy, using the same incense presented to baby Jesus is a special blessing of purification.23 Although Kiowas are not afraid of death, many acknowledge that they fear ghosts. Kiowas interviewed in 1935 discussed their beliefs about death and the afterlife. Lone Bear said that some spirits of the deceased occupy gomtókya (dead people’s homes), where they live in tipis facing west instead of east because they do not “know any better.”24 White Fox pointed out that some spirits remain where they died or were buried.25 Lone Bear, Moth Woman, Mary Buffalo, and White Fox said that, normally, burial places were not feared or avoided.26 Mary Buffalo, White Fox, and Jimmy Quoetone, however, pointed out that people avoided the graves of shamans or evil people, whose spirits transform into owls after death.27 People also avoid areas where ghosts are known to exist, such as in the 246 CONCLUSION

Wichita Mountains near Cutthroat Gap, scene of the 1833 massacre in which Osage warriors decapitated their Kiowa victims, then placed the heads in buckets (Mooney 1898, 257–59). Charley Apekaum’s wife told LaBarre that people often heard the sounds of ghosts’ travois and ghostly singing and talking and horses neighing in areas where people had been killed in battle.28 Feather Dance Road, three and a half miles west of Carnegie on State Highway 9, turns north toward the former Ghost Dance encampment along the Washita River. Harding Big Bow, who lived next to the dance grounds from 1941 until his death in 1997, reported hearing Ghost Dance songs when he went out to pray at night.29 Ira Kaulay told me that people sometimes hear Ghost Dance songs and even Sun Dance songs originating from bygone Sun Dance encampments in the area.30 Ray Doyah said that visitors to the site are admonished not to turn around if they hear their name called; doing so causes facial twisting, a condition known as “ghost sickness,” or Bell’s Palsy in Western medicine (Henderson and Ardour 1981).31 In my conversation with Agatha Paddlety Bates, she described ghosts as spirits that remain on earth because they do not know they are dead. Ghosts frequent their former habitations, even sitting at the table and eating with family members. Hearing strange noises in the house shortly after the death of a family member implies that the ghost is lingering, necessitating summoning a medicine man to burn cedar in the home. Cedaring the home and its occupants is believed to send the spirit away, perhaps to its “resting place.” This belief is very similar to notions of spirit keeping among Siouan-speaking peoples (Cedar Face 2005, 580–81; Brokenleg 2005, 144–45), though Kiowas do not want the spirit to linger. Bates added that it’s more important to pray “for the soul to go where it belongs.”32 Lavena Tongkeamha Pewo (1935–2009) and other Christians maintain that they are not afraid of ghosts because Christians should not believe in such things.33 Even the bravest men fear owls, according to Jimmy Quoetone, who believes that owls are messengers of death; a hooting owl means that someone has recently died or is close to death. Hunting Horse concurred.34 Moth Woman explained that a whirlwind is feared “because it contains the spirit of the dead” that originates “at the grave” and that encountering a whirlwind (a ghost) or an owl is dangerous because they have CONCLUSION 247

the power to cause facial paralysis.35 To this day Kiowas avoid owls, and if they come face-to-face with one, they will seek immediate cedaring. Early in the morning of June 20, 2004, a young Kiowa girl was killed in a single-car accident on State Highway 58, fourteen miles south of Carnegie—bordering the old Tongkeamha allotment—when she “failed to negotiate a 90-degree turn,” locally known as “dead man’s curve” (which has been straightened out in recent years).36 Her death was the topic of conversation the following Thursday while I was visiting with Dorothy Tsatoke Gray and some of her friends, who were sewing quilts and having fellowship at Cache Creek Church. Dorothy mentioned that one of her daughters had once seen a large white owl there on the road and that another relative saw a three- to four-foot-tall owl wearing earrings at the same location. She mused that it could have been a medicine man, since they have the ability to shape-shift into owls. Dorothy told her daughter not to be afraid of such an animal since she is a Christian.37 Given that Dorothy was a strong Christian, she believed that the superior power— God—would provide protection to the true believer. Like Native peoples around the world, Kiowas have their localized form of Christian animism (see DeBernardi 1999). Though not feared like ghosts and owls, there have been Bigfoot sightings between Anadarko and Fort Cobb over the past several years. During a conversation in July 2003 with Fred and Peggy Tsoodle and George and Margie Tahbone at Rainy Mountain Church, the discussion shifted to Bigfoot. One morning that summer a woman driving to work along State Highway 9 near Fort Cobb saw one crossing the road. Another woman living in the rural community of Washita reported one looking in her window one evening. We laughed when it was suggested that the creature was merely looking for some frybread!38 Billy Amauty was hunting on January 2, 2004, in a field south of the Apache Wye, where two creeks join together. It was a cold day, and he sighted a single bare footprint one and a half times the size of a human’s; since he is the consummate hunter and fisher and was carrying a 20-gauge shotgun, Billy would have shot it. Others have seen tracks in the same area.39 Later that day Bill Ware talked about the Bigfoot sightings near the Washita and Redstone communities, then related the Caddo legend about Hairy Man, who inhabits the area adjacent to the Washita River. This “holy man” 248 CONCLUSION

checks out the camp sites at tribal gatherings to make sure things are being done according to his knowledge of Caddo beliefs. Bill’s mother, Patricia Ware, suggested that this is the equivalent of the Kiowa K’opezsapol, or “mountain ogre” (see Boyd 1983, 42–44). Bigfoot sightings in the area are reported to this day.40 Kiowa Spirituality In studies of American Indian belief systems Lee Irwin (2000) writes that there is often confusion between the concepts “spiritual” and “religious.” According to Irwin, religion is a post enlightenment concept often rooted in a polarity between ideas of the “sacred and profane.” It doesn’t help understand Native American spirituality because it is an artificial construct. . . . My perception of the interactive spheres of Native communal life is that they have a relatedness through personal relationships that finds common expression in mutual, everyday concerns. Ceremonial activity, prayer, or simply carrying out daily activities like driving a friend to work or struggling for political rights may engage individuals in aspects of “religious” concern. It is that connectedness to core values and deep beliefs that I mean by “spirituality,” a pervasive quality of life that develops out of an authentic participation in values and real-life practices meant to connect members of a community with the deepest foundations of personal affirmation and identity. In this sense, spirituality is inseparable from any sphere of activity as long as it really connects with deeply held affirmative values and sources of authentic commitment, empowerment, and genuineness of shared concern. (3) Suzanne J. Crawford and Dennis F. Kelley (2005, 7) add, “Religion as a unique and separate category of experience does not reflect the experience of most Native cultures, in which traditional spirituality encompassed nearly all areas of life and operated in an integrated mode with the rest of cultural experience.” The Jemez Pueblo scholar Joe Sando (1992, 30) concurs, noting that Pueblo languages do not have a word for “religion” and that the “knowledge of a spiritual life is part of the person twenty-four hours a day, CONCLUSION 249

every day of the year.” Hence spirituality is about relationships, about the bonds of kinship existing between human beings and all life forms. To Native Americans spirituality occurs on an everyday basis, whereas the Western mind-set separates religion from other subsystems of culture; religion is something that occurs one or maybe two days a week. In contrast, Kiowa spirituality is observable in prayers, testimonials, and sharing food with kin, friends, and strangers. Regardless of religious persuasion, the Kiowas are a very spiritual people; most have grown up in Christian homes and are probably related to someone who belongs to the Native American Church and attends tipi meetings. Anyone who has observed Kiowa prayer meetings and worship services has been overwhelmed by their heart-felt spirituality. For more than thirty years I have experienced Kiowa spirituality in various contexts: Sunday church services, weekday church gatherings, summer conferences, home visits, powwows, sodality dances, and other events (Kracht 1994). Kiowas always turn to prayer to deal with the problems they encounter on an everyday basis; as Alice Tanedooah Palmer (1919– 2006) once told me, the Kiowas already knew how to pray when missionaries first arrived.41 Belief in the power of prayer is an important tradition noticeable at public events. Regardless of religious affiliation—Christian or Peyotist— prayer connects Kiowas who come together in unison. On July 18, 2003, Jaime McNeill, Chad Armstrong, and I attended the swearing-in ceremony of three newly elected Kiowa Business Committee members. A local Kiowa minister gave the opening prayer and invocation. Speaking of honesty and corruption in the Kiowa political arena, he said that God plans the fate of the people and passes the final judgment; those dishonest in their political lives have to answer to God. After the installation, Kiowa Business Committee Chair George McKenzie asked Dorothy Tsatoke Gray to offer a closing prayer, followed by a mealtime prayer by Gus Palmer Sr. Speaking in Kiowa and crying while praying, Dorothy begged God to watch over her people and guide them into the unknown future.42 In the late 1980s a group of elderly women met every Thursday morning at Botone Church for a luncheon and prayer meeting. The purpose of the informal, interdenominational group was to study the Bible and pray for the well-being of family members and friends. Given high rates 250 CONCLUSION

of alcoholism and substance and inhalant abuse among the youth, their primary focus was to pray for Kiowa children influenced by drugs and alcohol.43 After Fern Ahdokobo Miller celebrated her recovery from alcoholism by forming a Pentecostal church, she dedicated the remaining years of her life to helping other people in need. Shortly after we met in May 1987, I saw her in a convenience store in Carnegie one afternoon as she prepared to visit a woman whose daughter had just died in a distant city. The next afternoon I went to the senior citizens’ center for lunch and saw her working there as a volunteer.44 The good works of these Christian women resemble the activities of the now extinct Old Woman’s Society and mirror the good works taught by Crawford at the turn of the twentieth century. I have attended several “cottage,” or prayer, meetings in Kiowa homes over the years, some designated for specific purposes, such as healing a sick or troubled family member. One memorable meeting I attended, on July 2, 1989, was for Clifton Tongkeamah, who was recovering from an amputated toe, the result of complications from diabetes. The late evening meeting held in his parents’ home southeast of Carnegie was attended by Rev. John Tsatoke, Dorothy Tsatoke Gray, Stella Tsatoke Rivera, Cornelius Spotted Horse, Melissa Tongkeamha Kaulaity, Lavena Tongkeamha Pewo, and other family members. Reverend Tsatoke read from the Book of John, then Kiowa hymns were sung, interspersed with tearful testimonials mostly related to type 2 diabetes mellitus and alcoholism, common problems today. During the height of the gathering some participants laid their hands on Clifton’s leg while praying.45 Many Kiowas proclaim the power of prayer because they have witnessed miracles in their churches. Dorothy Tsatoke Gray described several miracles that occurred at Cache Creek Church. After one prayer meeting a woman’s stomach cancer completely disappeared by her next doctor’s appointment. Another woman, plagued by stomach cramps, felt worse during a meeting, compelling her to drive home. Barely making it without wrecking her car, she stumbled into the bathroom and vomited a fully developed tick. Afterward she felt much better and eventually recovered from her illness. Dorothy also related how one overcast, dreary afternoon she was in the church dining hall by herself sewing a quilt for a fund-raising project when she sang a Kiowa hymn for inspiration. By CONCLUSION 251

the time she finished the song, the sun had burst through the clouds and sunbeams brightened the room, lifting her spirits. On several occasions while sewing, singing, and praying with friends, Dorothy claimed that an incandescent light descended over the quilt, demarcating the pattern yet to be stitched.46 Even death is perceived as miraculous if it occurs while praying. Emma Ware Haury told me that years ago during a Christmas Eve service at the old Hog Creek Church, a woman died suddenly while offering a prayer. Several witnesses claimed they observed a falling star the moment she keeled over, which they interpreted as a sign that she had happily found her way to heaven; her death was perceived as a blessed event.47 Certain Kiowa elders remember that their ancestors prayed to tornadoes. Clifton Tongkeamah often told the story about his grandmother, Fannie Tongkeamha, who could “talk to tornadoes” that passed through the old homestead near Eagle Heart Springs during his youth in the 1940s. He remembered huddling in the storm shelter and peeking through the doorway while she stood outside facing the storm. With outstretched arms she sang an eerie song demanding the tornado to move in another direction; Cliff used to sing this song: “We’re Kiowas, go away!”48 His sister, Lavena Tongkeamha Pewo, described how their father, Weiser, was frequently called upon to pray at public events. On one occasion a funnel cloud was approaching the Kiowa Complex during a benefit powwow at Red Buffalo Hall. Although people started to flee the building, someone asked Weiser to pray away the tornado. Later on, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he joked that his prayer began with the line “Oh, ye of little faith!”49 Dorothy Tsatoke Gray said that one day a twister came through and everyone ran down to the storm shelter except for her uncle. Facing the tornado, he implored it to turn south toward Lawton. Someone yelled up from the storm shelter that their kids were in school in Lawton, prompting him to say, “No, go north,” as he pointed in the opposite direction.50 As in to the prereservation era, prayers constantly focus on warfare since Kiowas still perceive themselves as warrior people. Numerous groups of “prayer warriors” have formed in the wake of the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks and the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Shortly after the 2003 invasion of Iraq, Patricia Ware and other women began 252 CONCLUSION

meeting at J. J. Methvin Memorial on the second Tuesday of every month to hold a “soldiers prayer meeting” for American Indian soldiers (and all Americans in the armed forces) serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.51 Until her passing in 2010 Dorothy Tsatoke Gray also had a group of prayer warriors who met at Cache Creek Church on a weekly basis (sometimes more frequently).52 Until its total demise in 1890 the Sun Dance was infused with symbols of Sun and war power, key symbols in nineteenthcentury Kiowa culture. In the twenty-first century, notions of Sun have been replaced by beliefs in the Son (Christ, son of God), but there are still strong beliefs that warfare is a necessary part of life. One of the first things Clifton Tongkeamah told me in the early 1980s is that Kiowa women are important because they give birth to warriors.53 However, now there is gender parity since women can serve in the armed forces, and women are equally important in their capacity as prayer warriors. Kiowa warriors, male and female, will always fight, and their families will continue to support them through prayer. As Elizabeth McAlister (2016, 115–16) observes, militarization has become a part of the prayer practices of millions of Christians today, though prayers are intended to impose change, not to harm. Today dɔdɔ, the animatistic power force distributed throughout the universe, is present in God and Jesus, who are petitioned through prayer. According to Gus Palmer Sr., God is in everything, and God dwells within Peyote because “He is present in all things here on earth.” Taking Peyote during tipi meetings will “show you things, insightful and spiritual things. It will show you things that you might not know about yourself or others.” Peyote helps the worshipers focus on their prayers in the “holy house of God in which all members acknowledge His power and creation.”54 During the nineteenth-century horse and buffalo culture, Kiowas offered prayers to animistic beings, the spirit helpers present in nature who facilitated the acquisition of power. Kiowas still offer prayers to other-than-human beings. Patricia Ware said she occasionally climbed Elk Mountain to pray because that is where the buffalo go to die. An elder told J. Justin Castro that she made an annual trip to the Wichita Mountains looking “for a few certain buffalo and [said] prayers in their honor and to their ancestors.”55 Their prayer treks into the Wichita Mountains—Kiowas have always lived near mountains— CONCLUSION 253

Fig. 11. Elk Mountain, from the summit looking south, ca. 2010. Photograph by the author.

illustrate that indigenous and Christian beliefs have combined in contemporary practices. As described earlier, Kiowa prayers are tearful, emotional performances. Over the years I have observed Kiowas praying in a pitiful manner, an act of humility; they are tearful, spiritual expressions. LaBarre (1938, 50) described men praying in Peyote meetings “with tears running down their cheeks, their voices choked with emotion . . . the tone of a poor and pitiful person humbly asking the aid and pity of a great power.” Åke Hultkrantz (1989, 8) wrote of the “deeply emotional cries for help and sustenance” in Indian prayers and noted that many who have observed the “experiential religious emotions” expressed by American Indians have been profoundly moved (Hultkrantz 1990, 168). Few who have witnessed Kiowa prayers have failed to be swayed by their emotions. For example, Jaime McNeill described her feelings after attending a Wednesday night devotional at Redstone Baptist Church: “At the end of the service we all joined hands and prayed. Darrel led the prayer. When we all stood hand-in-hand, I could feel a tremendous con254 CONCLUSION

centration of spiritual energy like a spurt of good faith and hope that spiraled around the circle from each hand in the other’s entire being— continuously exploding through the duration of the prayer.”56 It has already been established that, along with tearful, emotionalladen prayers, testimonials are a salient feature of Kiowa worship ceremonies, particularly in Christian-influenced functions. Testimonials are narratives describing the storyteller’s personal relationship to God in the context of family and community values. Crawford witnessed these testaments of faith at the turn of the twentieth century, and they can be heard today in many contexts, public and private. Kiowa testimonials are similar to those heard in white Pentecostal and charismatic churches, blended with older forms of coup tales and oratory. Rev. Kim Mammedaty (1996, 162), who preached at the First American Baptist Church in Hobart, incorporates storytelling into her sermons because she recognizes that the “empowerment and affirmation of Indian values” liberates her Kiowa parishioners from cultural oppression (liberation theology). Many Kiowas acknowledge—without bitterness—that late nineteenth-century ancestors had Christianity forced upon them, but they do not use the “dominant culture” as a “measuring stick.” Affirmation of indigenous virtues in worship allows Mammedaty to contrast Indian values to Euro-American values, then find common ground in “our Christian story” (162). Testimonials as storytelling are a form of oral tradition that provides rich ethnographic information about the Kiowas (see Palmer 2003). In June 2004 J. Justin Castro, Rachel Whitaker, and I visited Dorothy Tsatoke Gray and Patsy Sankadota Tehauno at Cache Creek Church. A youth group from Alabama dropped by to bid farewell before their return trip. Castro commented on our experience: These women have to be some of the most spiritually moving people I have ever known. Everything they said came from the heart and their strong faith in God. They literally surrendered themselves to God, saying that they did virtually nothing themselves, and that their life is led by where God takes them. They both believe in miracles and both stated that they had witnessed amazing acts of healing and other things at their church. CONCLUSION 255

Dorothy loves to give testimonials: stories of God’s power and its effect on their lives, and they are moving unlike any testimonials I have ever heard. Patsy gives pretty tear jerking testimonials as well. They seem as if they talk, cry, and tell a story all in one. Again I get the feeling of the strong interdependence of life among the Kiowas. Everything is connected in this mystical world, God, earth, people, and all of life.57 McNeill was very moved by a prayer offered by Penny Cleghorn (Mescalero Apache) during a church service at Cache Creek Church: “After her sermon, Penny sang a song and was in tears in a couple of verses. She was in good spirits and she sang that ‘The God of the good times is the God of the bad times; the God of the mountain is the God of the valley.  .  .  .’ It really touched me because she knows the importance of faith and prayer in times of triumph and in times of sorrow.”58 Luke Eric Lassiter (2005, 440– 42) says hymns, sung a cappella in the Kiowa language, are an amalgamation of “Kiowa and Christian themes.” Every song appropriately performed for the occasion—celebrations, funerals, sickness—connects to a story relating the feelings of the person who created it; songs reflect family values and history. Dreams and visions—another link to past traditions—are recounted in testimonials. Dorothy Tsatoke Gray told me that she often had revelations after praying in her garden and that one of her sons received a vision from God after praying in the Wichita Mountains.59 Lavena Tongkeamha Pewo described a life-saving encounter with God during a dream. Years ago, after an argument with Henrietta, Lavena and her husband angrily departed the old homestead near Eagle Heart Springs. That night she dreamed that her parents were standing at the front door of their home, looking up into the sky at God (Jesus), who was telling them which homes he wanted them to visit in the Saddle Mountain community. Weiser and Henrietta did not see Lavena and her husband and continued gazing into the sky, but Jesus saw Lavena and pointed his finger at her, saying, “And for you, you have two weeks to get your act together.” Abruptly awakened, screaming and covered with sweat, she vowed to turn her life around. Until her passing in 2009, Lavena was a staunch Christian. Her brother 256 CONCLUSION

Raymond claimed this vision demonstrates that the old concept of dɔdɔ is inherent in God.60 Another expression of Kiowas’ spirituality is their affinity for social gatherings, especially those involving food. Whether visiting in a Kiowa home or at a powwow or church event, Kiowas ask visitors to “break bread” with them, a form of communion signaling their acceptance. Kiowas are gracious hosts, as McNeill experienced: “As usual, the Kiowa people display such kindness and respect to their visitors. Each time we have eaten a meal with the Kiowa peoples they have indicated that we (the visitors) go first in line and fill our plates. I have never seen such kind and generous people in western culture. . . . Almost everywhere we’ve gone people have fed us or offered to feed us.”61 On a hot August evening in 1986, Harold Hietala (1940–2010), who at the time was a faculty member in the Anthropology Department at Southern Methodist University, and I drove up to the Lone Bear Dance Grounds southeast of Carnegie to watch a dance sponsored by the Kiowa Warrior Descendants. Arriving unannounced at the Tongkeamha encampment at dinnertime, we were given plates and told to eat. Afterward Harold told me that Henrietta and Weiser—our elderly hosts—gave us the last plates and used paper plates for themselves. These beloved elders went to great lengths to maintain old-time hospitality. As Weiser said later, “When someone comes to your camp, you don’t ask ‘are you hungry’ or ‘have you eaten,’ you say, ‘sit down and eat.’”62 Another story about food sharing was told by Stella Tsatoke Rivera, whose husband led the congregation at White Church (Pentecostal). When their children were small, they struggled to put food on the table. Nevertheless, she pointed out, pastors are always solicited, especially during dinner time. One evening as her family sat down to eat chicken, biscuits, and gravy, unexpected visitors come to the house. Stella promptly hustled her children away and ushered the guests to the table. Later she apologized to her hungry children but explained to them that it was her duty as an Indian woman to provide for her guests.63 That is the Kiowa way. Late one evening in July 2003, Chad Armstrong, Jaime McNeill, and I arrived at Cache Creek Church and were greeted by Dorothy Tsatoke Gray and Penny Cleghorn. Sitting on lawn chairs under the spacious, star-filled sky, Penny reminded us that our gathering was analogous to CONCLUSION 257

the times of Jesus, who spent a lot of time outdoors. For the next several hours we prayed, sang songs, and told stories, accompanied by the intermittent songs of tree locusts. Chad later wrote, “Everyone gave a testimony of God’s love. Everybody’s testimony was spiritually enlightening, inspired by the night worship.” Gesturing toward the night sky, Dorothy called God the “way-maker,” then Penny pointed to the Milky Way and said she likes the Kiowa stories about the Seven Sisters and the Big Dipper (or Pleiades in some versions). Later we saw something not quite like a falling star. Dorothy commented, “I’m glad we held worship outside tonight. I’m going to remember it for a long time. The Spirit is strong with us here.”64 Of all my Kiowa and non-Kiowa friends and acquaintances, Dorothy Tsatoke Gray is the most spiritual person I’ve ever known. I’ll always remember the sad day in May 2010 when the news of her passing reached me. As I drove along the dusty gravel road leading to Cache Creek Church, I wasn’t surprised to find the spacious churchyard filled with parked cars and that the church was too small to accommodate several hundred people who came to pay their respects. Fortunately I was able to find a seat next to Raymond and other members of the Tongkeamha family under the canvas awning outside, where we listened to the funeral service inside the church through the open side door. Although funerals are somber occasions, I felt that Dorothy’s was a joyous occasion because her small church in the country was filled well beyond capacity. I knew that having so many people in her church would make her happy. As she would have said, “The Spirit dwells here.”

258 CONCLUSION

Notes KIOWA PRONUNCIATIONS 1. Harrington (1928, 9) describes the ejective Kiowa consonants: “[k’, t’, ts’, p’] are simultaneously glottalized. . . . The buccal release precedes the laryngeal, thus producing a click like that of suddenly opening a chamber of partial vacuum, like the sound of pulling a cork from a bottle, the buccal consonant retaining of course its characteristic resonance. In glottalized [ts’] the laryngeal opening comes after the s, not between the t and the s.” 2. Harrington (1928, 9) likewise describes the aspirated consonants: “Like the sounds of the glottalized series . . . those of the aspirated series [kh, th, ph] are also immersed, not in a glottal clusive but in an aspiration. . . . The corresponding aspirated form of ts was not found.” 3. In syllable-final position, /l/ becomes [d1], a slightly affricated form. Sometimes long vowels are replaced by affricated d1 in syllable-final position. 4. All six Kiowa vowels are long (designated by /·/ following the vowel) or short, oral, or nasal.

PREFACE 1. Alexander Lesser to Director Jesse L. Nusbaum, September 19, 1935, “Kiowa– Alexander Lesser Anthropology Field Program, 1935, Notes, Letters,” Arthur & Shifra Silberman Native Art Collection, box 1, folder 10, Dickinson Research Center, National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum, Oklahoma City. 2. Weston LaBarre, n.d., chapters for a proposed general ethnography of the Kiowa Indians, Papers of R. Weston LaBarre, Series 1: Kiowa Studies, box 2, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution (hereafter KFN). 3. John Collier to Donald Collier, March 30, 1937; Donald Collier to John Collier, March 31, 1937; Weston LaBarre to John Collier, March 31, 1937; John Collier to Weston LaBarre, April 2, 1937; Weston LaBarre to John Collier, April 5, 1937, all in Papers of R. Weston LaBarre, Series 2: Peyote Studies, box 5, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. Jane Richardson (Hanks),

259

William Bascom, and Bernard Mishkin were the other three students with the Santa Fe field party. 4. Extant letters by Kiowas, or ones written on their behalf, appear around 1916, when the dance was targeted for eradication by BIA personnel at the Kiowa Agency in Anadarko.

INTRODUCTION 1. LaBarre field notes, July 29, 1935; Bascom field notes, July 18, 1935, KFN. 2. LaBarre field notes, July 9, 1935, KFN. 3. Collier field notes, n.d., KFN. 4. Letter from Indian Commissioner Nathaniel G. Taylor to Interior Secretary O. H. Browning, January 25, 1868, House Executive Document [HED] 124, 40-2, vol. 11 [1337]. Volumes of the Congressional Serial Set are hereafter set in brackets. 5. HED 125, 41-2, vol. 6 [1417]; HED 284, 41-2, vol. 12 [1426]. 6. Annual Report to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs (hereafter ARCIA) 1875:567 [Congressional Serial Set, 1680], National Archives. 7. In her study of Fort Marion art, Joyce M. Szabo (2007, 25) identifies seventyone male prisoners and one Cheyenne woman who accompanied her husband: thirty-three Cheyennes, two Arapahos, one Caddo, nine Comanches, and twenty-seven Kiowas, for a total of seventy-two prisoners. Though her math might seem to be slightly off, several prisoners died during the journey from the Southwestern Plains to Fort Marion (176n). 8. Hugh D. Corwin, “50 Years with the Kiowa Indians, 1850–1900,” unpublished manuscript, 1962, 64, D’Arcy McNickle Center for the Study of the American Indian, Newberry Library, Chicago; Special Agent E. E. White to Indian Commissioner John H. Oberly, August 18, 1888, ARCIA 1888 [2637]. 9. Corwin, “50 Years with the Kiowa Indians.” 10. Letter from Agent W. D. Myers to Indian Commissioner Thomas J. Morgan, August 27, 1889, ARCIA 1889:190–91 [2725]. 11. According to Ray C. Doyah, letter to author, August 31, 2005, there are variant spellings for Apiatan—his ancestor—including Ahpiatan and Ahpeahtone. Throughout this chapter I use Mooney’s orthography when possible, hence Ä′piatañ. 12. Alexander Lesser to Jesse L. Nusbaum, director, Santa Fe Laboratory of Anthropology, September 19, 1935, “Kiowa–Alexander Lesser Anthropology Field Program, 1935, Notes, Letters,” Arthur & Shifra Silberman Native Art Collection, box 1, folder 10, Dickinson Research Center, National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum, Oklahoma City; LaBarre field notes, August 17, 1935, KFN. 13. LaBarre field notes, August 17, 1935, KFN. 14. Bascom field notes, August 17, 1935, KFN. 15. The Native American Church was officially chartered in 1918. 260 NOTES TO PAGES xviii–27

16. John Collier to Donald Collier, March 30, 1937; Donald Collier to John Collier, March 31, 1937; Weston LaBarre to John Collier, March 31, 1937; John Collier to Weston LaBarre, April 2, 1937; Weston LaBarre to John Collier, April 5, 1937, all in Papers of R. Weston LaBarre, Series 2: Peyote Studies, box 5, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 17. Papers of R. Weston LaBarre, Series 2: Peyote Studies, box 5, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 18. Record Group [RG] 75, entry 126: Mescal; entry 178, Office File of Indian Commissioner John Collier, 1933–45: Peyote; entry 764, Law and Order Correspondence, 1908–18: Peyote; entry 1395, tray 119, Reference Material: Peyote, all in National Archives; Correspondence of the Indian Rights Association, reels 39, 40, and 87, Newberry Library. 19. Kracht field notes, April 8, 1987, in author’s possession.

1. RESERVATION PERIOD TO STATEHOOD 1. ARCIA 1874:488 [1639], 1875:626–27 [1680]. 2. Agent J. M. Haworth to Indian Commissioner E. P. Smith, August 21, 1876, ARCIA 1876:455 [1749]. 3. ARCIA 1876:398–99 [1749]. 4. ARCIA 1876:398 [1749]. 5. Haworth to Smith, August 21, 1876, ARCIA 1876:455 [1749]. 6. Haworth to Dr. William Nicholson, superintendent of Indian affairs, August 15, 1877, ARCIA 1877:484 [1800]. 7. Joseph Fielding Smith, “Missionary Work among the Indians,” April 1925, typed manuscript, Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, 1907–39, RG 75, entry 1395, tray 118, Missions, Missionary Service, National Archives. 8. Agent P. B. Hunt to Indian Commissioner Hiram Price, September 1, 1881, ARCIA 1881:140 [2018]. 9. Hunt to Price, September 1, 1882, ARCIA 1882:131 [2100]; ARCIA 1882:412–13 [2100]. 10. Hunt to Price, August 17, 1883, ARCIA 1883:131 [2191]. 11. Hunt to Price, August 28, 1884, ARCIA 1884:125 [2287]; Hunt to Indian Commissioner J. D. C. Atkins, August 31, 1885, ARCIA 1885:313 [2379]. 12. Hunt to Atkins, August 31, 1885, ARCIA 1885:313 [2379]. 13. A copy of Hunt’s typewritten manuscript was given to me by Betty Tanedooah Tongkeamah in February 1987. 14. Hunt to Indian Commissioner Hiram Price, September 1, 1881, ARCIA 1881:142 [2018]. 15. ARCIA 1882:378–79 [2100], 1883:306–7 [2191], 1884:334–35 [2287]. 16. Hunt to Atkins, August 31, 1885, ARCIA 1885:312 [2379]. 17. Agent J. Lee Hall to Atkins, August 26, 1886, ARCIA 1886:347 [2467]. 18. Hall to Atkins, n.d., ARCIA 1887:164– 65 [2542]. 19. Special Agent E. E. White to Atkins, August 18, 1888, ARCIA 1888 [2637]. NOTES TO PAGES 28–38 261

20. White to Atkins, August 18, 1888, ARCIA 1888 [2637]. 21. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. 22. Rev. J. J. Methvin to Agent Charles E. Adams, ca. October 1889, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 23. Agent W. D. Myers to Indian Commissioner Thomas J. Morgan, August 27, 1889, ARCIA 1889:189 [2725]. 24. Petition submitted June 11, 1888: Rev. J. J. Methvin to Indian Commissioner William A. Jones, January 17, 1898. Permission was granted on February 21, 1889: Interior Secretary William F. Villas to Indian Commissioner John H. Oberly, February 21, 1889; Myers to Oberly, June 4, 1889, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 25. House Resolution [HR] 2477, 59-1, 4 pp., RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 26. Methvin to Interior Secretary Hoke Smith, May 22, 1893, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 27. Kracht field notes, 1984. 28. Methvin to Morgan, February 24, 1892, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 29. Methvin to Smith, May 22, 1893, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 30. Methvin to Smith, May 22, 1893, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 31. J. C. Cavener to Agent Frank D. Baldwin, May 18, 1896; Baldwin to Whom It May Concern, February 26, 1897; Baldwin to Jones, October 18, 1897, all in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 32. Methvin to Acting Indian Commissioner A. C. Tanner, October 6, 1897, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 33. Baldwin to Jones, October 18, 1897, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 34. Methvin to Jones, November 2, 1897, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases; HR 2477, 59-1, 4 pp., RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 35. Rev. B. F. Gassaway to Rev. R. E. L. Morgan, August 22, 1913, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 36. Gassaway to Morgan, August 22, 1913; Agent John P. Blackman to Indian Commissioner Francis E. Leupp, May 16, 1907, both in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 37. Gassaway to Morgan, August 22, 1913, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 38. LaBarre field notes, August 26, 1935, KFN. 39. Anna R. Fait, “Missionary’s Wife Tells Her Story,” document submitted to the Anadarko Presbyterian Church History Foundation in 1943, reprinted in Anadarko Daily News Visitors Guide 1986–87:28–29. 40. Henry Kendall, secretary, Board of Home Missions [BHM], to Morgan, September 11, 1889; O. E. Boyd, recording secretary, BHM, to Morgan, January 11, 1890; William Irwin, secretary, BHM, to Morgan, December 31, 1889, all in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 41. Interior Secretary John Noble to Morgan, January 11, 1890; Agent Charles E. Adams to Morgan, March 31, 1890; Irwin to Morgan, April 11, 1890; George

262 NOTES TO PAGES 39–50

Chandler, acting interior secretary, to Morgan, April 26, 1890, all in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 42. Adams to Morgan, September 16, 1890; Adams to Morgan, August 20, 1891, both in ARCIA 1891:351 [2934]; O. D. Eaton, treasurer, BHM, to Morgan, August 20, 1892; Eaton to Morgan, August 20, 1892; Eaton to Acting Indian Commissioner R. V. Belt, September 9, 1892; Eaton to Rev. Sheldon Jackson, January 28, 1893; Agent James F. Randlett to Indian Commissioner William A. Jones, August 29, 1900, all in ARCIA 1900:333 [4101]; Randlett to Jones, September 1, 1901, ARCIA 1901:321 [4290]. 43. Agent Frank D. Baldwin to Indian Commissioner Daniel M. Browning, April 21, 1896, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 44. Acting Interior Secretary William Hopkin to Browning, May 7, 1896; Baldwin to Whom It May Concern, September 9, 1896, both in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 45. Photograph and caption, Anadarko Daily News Visitors Guide 1988–89:39; “Presbyterian Cornerstone Laid,” Anadarko Tribune, July 10, 1924, reprinted in Anadarko Daily News Visitors Guide 1988–89:37. 46. Interior Secretary James R. Garfield to Indian Commissioner of the General Land Office, March 6, 1907; Agent John P. Blackman to Indian Commissioner Francis E. Leupp, May 21, 1907; HR 2477, 59-1, 4 pp., all in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 47. J. Milligan Wylie, J. A. McKee, and R. J. Milligan, Central Board of Missions, to Indian Commissioner John D. C. Atkins, December 8, 1887; Wylie to Atkins, March 23, 1888, both in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 48. Wylie to Atkins, March 23, 1888; Wylie to Atkins, May 1, 1888, both in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 49. White to Atkins, June 21, 1888, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 50. Interior Secretary William F. Villas to Oberly, February 21, 1889, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 51. Rev. W. W. Carithers to Oberly, March 15, 1889, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 52. Agent W. D. Myers to Indian Oberly, March 15, 1889, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 53. Adams to Morgan, August 20, 1891, ARCIA 1891:349 [2934]; Agent William H. Walker to Jones, August 26, 1898, ARCIA 1898:238 [3757]. 54. Agent George D. Day to Morgan, March 2, 1892, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 55. White to Oberly, August 18, 1888, ARCIA 1888 [2637]; Myers to Morgan, August 27, 1889, ARCIA 1889:189 [2725]; Adams to Morgan, September 16, 1890, ARCIA 1890:186 [2841]; Adams to Morgan, August 20, 1891, ARCIA 1891:349 [2934]. 56. Adams to Morgan, September 16, 1890, ARCIA 1890:188 [2841].

NOTES TO PAGES 50–53 263

57. Hugh Corwin (1968, 48) claimed that the building was only one and a half stories, but a photograph in Corwin (1958a, 208) depicts a two-and-a-half-story building. 58. Agent Hugh G. Brown to Indian Commissioner Daniel M. Browning, September 28, 1893; Brown to Browning, December 7, 1893, both in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 59. Rev. J. S. Murrow to Morgan, May 7, 1891, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 60. Murrow to Morgan, May 7, 1891; Rev. H. L. Morehouse to Morgan, May 16, 1891, both in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 61. Adams to Morgan, September 9, 1891, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases; ARCIA 1892:772–73 [3088]. 62. ARCIA 1892:772–73 [3088]. 63. Mary G. Burdette (1895, 43) gives the dedication date as January 1894, whereas the centennial celebration article Rainy Mountain Kiowa Indian Baptist Church, Mountain View, Oklahoma, Centennial, June 4–6, 1993, written by Clydia Nahwooksy (1993, 8), lists the date as November 1894. I chose the former source since it was written closer to the actual event. Also, although 160 acres was originally requested, Immanuel Baptist Church received 80 (Nahwooksy 1993, 8). 64. Kracht field notes, May 13, 1987. 65. Leonard Sanders’s (1987) novel Light on the Mountain is based on Crawford’s field diary, housed in the American Baptist–Samuel Colgate Historical Library, Rochester, New York. The late Henrietta Tongkeamha grew up in the Saddle Mountain community and knew Crawford from her visits to Kiowa country after her departure in 1906. Though there are some errors in the novel, she said it is mostly accurate. 66. Rev Howard H. Clouse to Jones, September 28, 1900, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 67. Isabel Crawford to Indian Commissioner William A. Jones, August 9, 1900; Crawford to Jones, September 27, 1900, both in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 68. Crawford to Jones, August 9, 1900; Crawford to Jones, September 27, 1900, both in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 69. HR 2477, 59-1, 4 pp., RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 70. Agent Frank D. Baldwin to Whom It May Concern, April 20, 1896; Baldwin to Browning, April 30, 1896; J. F. Harms, secretary, Mennonite Brethren Church, to Charles Curtis, chairman, U.S. House Committee on Expenditures in the Interior Department, March 17, 1896; Curtis to Browning, March 20, 1896; Harms to Curtis, April 6, 1896; Curtis to Browning, April 8, 1896, all in RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 71. Adams to Morgan, September 16, 1890, ARCIA 1890:188 [2841]. 72. White to Atkins, May 23, 1888, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 264 NOTES TO PAGES 53– 64

73. Father Isidore Ricklin to Morgan, October 22, 1891, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 74. HR 2477, 59-1, 4 pp., RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 75. Agent W. D. Myers to Mrs. A. S. Steele, Chattanooga TN, May 16, 1889, RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases; Myers to Indian Commissioner Thomas J. Morgan, August 27, 1889, ARCIA 1889:189 [2725]. 76. Adams to Morgan, September 16, 1890, ARCIA 1890:187–88 [2841]. 77. Adams to Morgan, August 20, 1891, ARCIA 1891:351 [2934]; Lt. Hugh L. Scott to post adjutant, Fort Sill, January 18, 1891, RG 75, Special Case no. 188: The Ghost Dance, 1890–1898. The whipping incident occurred on January 9, 1891, when three boys fled the Kiowa School in Anadarko after being whipped by Mr. Wherrit, one of the teachers. Unfortunately the youths were overcome by a blizzard and froze to death before they could reach the Kiowa encampments on Stinking Creek, southwest of the agency. After hiding on school property, Wherrit fled the agency before the aggrieved families could exact retribution (Mooney 1898, 360– 61; Nye 1937, 274–75). 78. Agent George D. Day to Morgan, August 30, 1892, ARCIA 1892:387 [3088]. 79. Agent Frank D. Baldwin to Indian Commissioner Daniel M. Browning, August 28, 1896, ARCIA 1896:254, 256 [3489]. Grass money was paid by Texas cattlemen who leased KCA lands. Payments were processed through the Kiowa Agency in Anadarko. 80. Baldwin to Jones, August 28, 1897, ARCIA 1897:232–33 [3641]. 81. Agent William H. Walker to Jones, August 26, 1898, ARCIA 1898:238 [3757]; Walker to Jones, August 29, 1900, ARCIA 1900:333 [4101]; Agent James F. Randlett to Jones, September 1, 1901, ARCIA 1901:321 [4290]. 82. Agent James F. Randlett to Jones, August 29, 1900, ARCIA 1900:333 [4101]. 83. Walker to Jones, August 26, 1898, ARCIA 1898:238 [3757]; Randlett to Jones, August 29, 1900, ARCIA 1900:333 [4101]; Agent James F. Randlett to Indian Commissioner William A. Jones, September 1, 1901, ARCIA 1901:321 [4290]. 84. Randlett to Jones, September 1, 1901, ARCIA 1901:320 [4290]. 85. HR 2477, 59-1, 4 pp., RG 75, entry 143, Kiowa Special Cases. 86. LaBarre field notes, July 17, 1935, KFN. 87. LaBarre field notes, July 17, 1935, KFN. 88. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 89. LaBarre field notes, August 17, 1935, KFN. 90. LaBarre field notes, July 29, 1935, KFN. 91. LaBarre field notes, August 17 and 21, 1935, KFN. 92. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 93. LaBarre field notes, August 17, 1935, KFN. 94. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 95. Bascom field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. LaBarre used much of the data from the Santa Fe field notes for The Peyote Cult (1938). NOTES TO PAGES 65–72 265

96. LaBarre field notes, July 29, 1935, KFN. 97. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 98. Collier field notes, July 25, 1935, KFN. 99. Collier field notes, July 25, 1935, KFN. 100. Collier field notes, July 25, 1935, KFN. The Daimpega was one of the Kiowa sodalities, or warrior societies, that survived into the twentieth century. Today this sodality is known as the Kiowa Gourd Clan. 101. Collier field notes, July 25, 1935, KFN. 102. Collier field notes, July 25, 1935, KFN. 103. Bascom field notes, August 7–9, 1935, KFN. Sources disagree regarding the year of his passing: 1891 (Marriott 1983, 305), 1893 (Ewers 1978, 27), or 1895 (Nye 1962, 267– 68). 104. LaBarre field notes, August 6, 1935, KFN. 105. Bascom field notes, August 7–9, 1935, KFN. 106. Bascom field notes, August 7–9, 1935, KFN. 107. LaBarre field notes, August 6, 1935, KFN. 108. Bascom field notes, July 15, 1935, KFN. 109. Richardson field notes, n.d.; LaBarre field notes, August 9, 1935, KFN. 110. Bascom field notes, August 24, 1935, KFN. 111. Alice Marriott field notes, “A Study of the Buffalo Origin Myth and the Buffalo-Returning Ceremony of the Kiowa Indians,” typed manuscript, Alice L. Marriott Collection, box 9, folder 24, Western History Collections, University of Oklahoma Libraries (hereafter Marriott field notes, “Buffalo”). 112. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN; Marriott field notes, “Buffalo,” 5. 113. LaBarre field notes, August 17, 1935, KFN; Marriott field notes, “Buffalo,” 4– 6; LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 114. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN. 115. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN; Marriott field notes, “Buffalo,” 1– 4. The location, along the south bank of the Washita River, would also be the location of Ghost Dance encampments. 116. Marriott field notes, “Buffalo,” 4– 6. 117. LaBarre field notes, August 17, 1935, KFN. 118. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1139, KFN. 119. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN. 120. Marriott field notes, “Buffalo,” 5. 121. LaBarre field notes, August 17, 1935, KFN. 122. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935; Collier field notes, July 29, 1935, KFN. 123. Collier field notes, July 29, 1935, KFN. 124. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935; Collier field notes, July 29, 1935, KFN. 125. Collier field notes, July 29, 1935; LaBarre field notes, August 17, 1935, KFN. 126. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN. 127. Collier field notes, July 29, 1935, KFN; Kracht field notes, July 4, 2014. 266 NOTES TO PAGES 73–86

128. Collier field notes, July 29, 1935, KFN. 129. Collier field notes, July 29, 1935; LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 130. Collier field notes, July 29, 1935, KFN. 131. LaBarre field notes, July 29, 1935, KFN. 132. Richardson field notes, August 12, 1935, KFN. 133. Richardson field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN. The Kâ-itséñko was one of the Kiowa warrior societies that became extinct after the cessation of warfare and the eventual death of its members. 134. Richardson field notes, August 12, 1935, KFN. 135. LaBarre field notes, July 29, 1935; Collier field notes, July 29, 1935, KFN.

2. THE GHOST DANCE 1. On May 2, 1890, Congress passed the Organic Act, which established Oklahoma Territory west of the Five Civilized Tribes. 2. LaBarre field notes, August 1, 1935, KFN. 3. LaBarre, “The Ghost Dance and Other Cults,” 4, in chapters written by Weston LaBarre for a proposed general ethnography of the Kiowa Indians, KFN. 4. In a letter submitted by Comanche chief Quanah Parker to a newspaper editor, he specified that “few of the Comanche Indians pay any attention to the Messiah craze, and those who do are crazy.” “The Chief of the Comanches writes a straight-forward letter.” Likewise in a letter sent to the post adjutant at Fort Sill, Lt. Hugh L. Scott concurred that “the Comanches and Wichitas are little affected.” Scott to post adjutant, Fort Sill, O.T., December 16, 1890. In another letter sent the next month, Scott wrote, “The Comanches have not yet received the feather, and seem not to care about it.” Scott to post adjutant, Fort Sill, O.T., January 5, 1891. All in RG 75, Special Case no. 188: The Ghost Dance, 1890–98. 5. Collier field notes, July 30, 1935, KFN. 6. Collier field notes, July 30, 1935, KFN. 7. Collier field notes, July 30, 1935, KFN. 8. LaBarre, “The Ghost Dance and Other Cults,” 4, KFN; Scott to post adjutant, Fort Sill, December 16, 1890, RG 75, Special Case no. 188: The Ghost Dance, 1890–98. 9. Collier field notes, July 30, 1935; LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935; LaBarre, “The Ghost Dance and Other Cults,” 4, KFN. Note that during LaBarre’s interview with Old Man Apekaum on August 21, Charley Apekaum, David Paddlety, and Andrew Stumbling Bear were in attendance according to notations in LaBarre’s spiral notebook and typed notes. 10. Scott to post adjutant, Fort Sill, O.T, January 5, 1891, RG 75, Special Case no. 188: The Ghost Dance, 1890–98. 11. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. NOTES TO PAGES 86–97 267

12. Collier field notes, July 30, 1935, KFN. 13. Collier field notes, July 30, 1935, KFN. 14. Collier field notes, July 30, 1935, KFN. 15. Scott to post adjutant, Fort Sill, O.T., December 16, 1890, and January 5, 1891; Agent Charles Adams to Indian Commissioner Morgan, November 5, 1890; Lt. C. H. Carlton to assistant adjutant general, Headquarters, Department of the Missouri, St. Louis, January 11, 1891; Scott to post adjutant, Fort Sill, O.T., January 30, 1890, and February 10, 1891, all in RG 75, Special Case no. 188: The Ghost Dance, 1890–98. 16. Scott to post adjutant, Fort Sill, O.T., January 30, 1891, RG 75, Special Case no. 188: The Ghost Dance, 1890–98. 17. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 18. Scott to post adjutant, Fort Sill, O.T., February 22, 1891, RG 75, Special Case no. 188: The Ghost Dance, 1890–98. 19. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 20. Scott to post adjutant, Fort Sill, O.T., February 22, 1891, RG 75, Special Case no. 188: The Ghost Dance, 1890–98. 21. LaBarre, “The Ghost Dance and Other Cults,” 3, KFN. 22. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. In Kiowa Voices, Maurice Boyd (1981, 91–92) names the five as Little Robe, White Buffalo, Poor Buffalo, Eagle Tail, and Afraid-of-Bears, whom he called the “Feather Dance priest.” Boyd also listed locations of the “branch churches.” 23. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN. 24. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 25. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN. 26. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 27. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 28. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN. 29. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 30. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN. 31. LaBarre field notes, August 16 and 21, 1935, KFN. 32. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN. 33. LaBarre field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. 34. Kracht field notes, April 8 and 30, 1987. 35. Kracht field notes, April 30, 1987, February 3, 1991. 36. Agent George Day to Indian Commissioner Thomas J. Morgan, August 30, 1892, ARCIA 1892:386 [3088]. 37. Guy Quoetone manuscript, n.d. I am grateful to Rev. Charles “Nick” Quoetone, who graciously shared his father’s documents with me in 1987. 38. LaBarre field notes, July 18, 1935, KFN. 39. Kracht field notes, February 3, 1991. Although Weiser was only four when he witnessed this dance, he had a very lucid memory when recalling these events. 268 NOTES TO PAGES 97–116

Younger family members were shocked that he had seen the dance and had never told anyone. He responded by saying that no one had ever asked him about it! Sadly he passed away on March 14, five weeks later. 40. Kracht field notes, May 27, 1993. 41. Kracht field notes, May 27, 1993. 42. Kracht field notes, May 27, 1993. 43. LaBarre field notes, July 18, 1935, KFN. 44. Through a thorough study of Mooney’s photographs, Thomas W. Kavanagh has demonstrated that many of the photographs Mooney identified as performances of the Cheyenne-Arapaho Ghost Dance were actually the Crow Dance. 45. Kracht field notes, February 3, 1991; Superintendent Ernest Stecker to Indian Commissioner Cato Sells, June 26, 1914; Stecker to Sells, March 12, 1915; Superintendent C. V. Stinchecum to Sells, August 1, 1915, all in RG 75, 063, Dances. 46. Collier field notes, July 18, 1935, KFN. 47. Collier field notes, July 18, 1935, KFN. 48. Collier field notes, July 18, 1935; Richardson field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN. Before the demise of the Sun Dance in 1890, Kiowa warrior societies like the Daimpega and Tonkonko sponsored social dances prior to the four days of dancing during the Sun Dance proper. 49. Indian Commissioner Charles H. Burke, Circular 1665, “Indian Dancing,” April 26, 1921; Burke, Supplement to Circular No. 1665, “Indian Dancing,” February 14, 1923; Burke to All Indians, February 24, 1923, all in Memos from Indian Rights Association Papers, 1923, Circular 1665, reel 40, D’Arcy McNickle Center for the History of the American Indian, Newberry Library. 50. Herbert Welsh, president, Indian Rights Association, to George Wharton Pepper, March 31, 1923; Matthew K. Sniffen, secretary, Indian Rights Association, to S. M. Brosius, April 5, 1923; Sniffen to Rev. E. E. Higley, April 7, 1923; Sniffen to George Foster Peabody, April 7, 1923; Sniffen to Brosius, April 10, 1923; Sniffen to Amelia E. White, May 1, 1923; Welsh to editor of the Philadelphia Record, May 3, 1923; Welsh to Interior Secretary Hubert Work, May 9, 1923; Sniffen to editor of the New York Times, May 9, 1923; Sniffen to Lynn Haines, May 16, 1923; Sniffen to Arthur C. Parker, May 29, 1923; Sniffen to Rodney W. Roundy, June 11, June 13, and June 27, 1923; Sniffen to Warren K. Moorehead, June 20 and June 25, 1923; Sniffen to Ruth Shonle, July 9, 1923; Sniffen to Kate Leah Cotharin, January 9, 1924; Sniffen to Mrs. Robert E. Speer, January 26, 1924, all in Indian Rights Association Papers, 1923– 24, Correspondence, reel 87, D’Arcy McNickle Center for the History of the American Indian, Newberry Library. 51. C. F. Hauke, chief clerk, to Stecker, December 9, 1909, RG 75, Dances. 52. Stecker to Commissioner Robert G. Valentine, December 15, 1909, RG 75, Dances. The monies Stecker refers to are per capita payments from the sale of surplus reservation lands after allotment. As stipulated by the 1892 Jerome NOTES TO PAGES 117–121 269

Agreement and the 1906 Stephen’s Act, interest was paid to individuals from the principal in the U.S. National Treasury. 53. John Francis Jr., acting chief clerk, to Stecker, January 22, 1910, RG 75, Dances. 54. Stecker to Valentine, January 25, 1910, RG 75, Dances. 55. Hauke to Stecker, February 2, 1910, and February 15, 1910, RG 75, Dances. 56. Stecker to Sells, July 25, 1913, RG 75, Dances. 57. Stecker to Sells, July 25, 1913, RG 75, Dances. 58. Second Assistant Indian Commissioner C. F. Hauke to Stecker, August 29, 1913, RG 75, Dances. Strangely the heading of Hauke’s letter identifies Stecker as “Supt. Kiowa School.” 59. Hauke to Stecker, August 29, 1913, RG 75, Dances. 60. Stecker to Sells, June 26, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 61. Ah-pe-ah-to to Sells, August 25, 1913, RG 75, Dances. 62. Stecker to Sells, June 26, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 63. H. H. Clouse to Stecker, May 20, 1914; B. F. Gassaway to Stecker, May 27, 1914, both in RG 75, Dances. 64. B. F. Gassaway to Stecker, May 27, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 65. Treat to Stecker, June 6, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 66. Andres Martinez to Stecker, May 17, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 67. Clouse to Stecker, May 20, 1914; Gassaway to Stecker, May 27, 1914; Treat to Stecker, June 6, 1914, all in RG 75, Dances. 68. Gassaway to Stecker, May 27, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 69. Treat to Stecker, June 6, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 70. Clouse to Stecker, May 20, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 71. Clouse to Stecker, May 20, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 72. Treat to Stecker, June 6, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 73. Treat to Stecker, June 6, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 74. Stinchecum to Sells, July 1, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 75. Sells to Sit-ah-pa-tah, July 6, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 76. Sells to Stecker, July 6, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 77. Sells to Ah-pe-ah-to, July 6, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 78. Chief Ah-pe-ah-to to Sells, July 31, 1914, RG 75, Dances. 79. Assistant Indian Commissioner E. B. Merritt to Ah-pe-ah-to, September 1914; Merritt to Stecker, September 21, 1914, both in RG 75, Dances. 80. Stecker to Sells, March 12, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 81. Stecker to Sells, March 12, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 82. Parker McKenzie, “Schedule of Indian Agents &/or Superintendents for the Kiowa, Comanche & Kiowa-Apache Tribes from May 1869 to Mar. 31, 1922,” typewritten manuscript courtesy of William C. Meadows. 83. Stinchecum to Sells, July 1, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 84. J. S. Rhinefort, representing McElhoes, Ferris & Rhinefort, lawyers, to Red Buffalo, June 23, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 270 NOTES TO PAGES 122–131

85. Stinchecum to Sells, Western Union Telegram, June 28, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 86. Stinchecum to Sells, July 1, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 87. Merritt to Assistant Interior Secretary Bo Sweeney, July 1, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 88. Undated copy of an Interior Department telegram to be sent to Stinchecum, initialed by Merritt and Hauke; W. C. Pollock, Interior Department “Memorandum,” July 2, 1915, both in RG 75, Dances. 89. Pollock, Interior Department “Memorandum,” July 2, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 90. Stinchecum to Sells, August 1, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 91. Guy Quoetone, undated document. Rev. Charles “Nick” Quoetone graciously shared this document with me. Kracht field notes, April 8, 1987. 92. Stinchecum to Sells, August 1, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 93. Merritt to Stinchecum, August 25, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 94. Sait ah pe ta to Merritt, November 15, 1915, RG 75, Dances. Since Afraid-ofBears was blind, someone must have written the letter while he dictated. 95. I-See-O Indian Scout, statement attached to Sait ah pe ta letter to Merritt, November 15, RG 75, Dances. I-See-O had been a Troup L Indian scout at Fort Sill. 96. Merritt to Sait-ah-pe-ta, December 9, 1915, RG 75, Dances. 97. Big Tree to Sells, February 7, 1916, RG 75, Dances. The following sentence appears on the last page of the letter: “Herewith enclose [sic] are the following names of some of our best men of the Tribe that want a Chief.” On the second line the signature of Kiowa Bill appears. The following nine lines are blank. 98. Big Tree to Interior Secretary Franklin K. Lane, February 7, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 99. Big Tree to Lane, February 16, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 100. Merritt to Big Tree, February 21, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 101. Stinchecum to Sells, April 26, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 102. Sells to Stinchecum, July 11, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 103. James Ahtone to Sells, June 12, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 104. Merritt to Ahtone, June 27, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 105. Ahtone to Sells, July 8, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 106. Merritt to Ahtone, July 27, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 107. Stinchecum to Indian Office, Western Union Telegram, July 26, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 108. Merritt to Stinchecum, July 27, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 109. Tennyson Berry to Congressman Scott Ferris, Western Union Telegram, August 16, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 110. Merritt to Ferris, August 18, 1916; Merritt to Berry, August 18, 1916, both in RG 75, Dances. 111. Stinchecum to Sells, August 23, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 112. Merritt to Berry, September 9, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 113. Stinchecum to Sells, December 4, 1916, RG 75, Dances. 114. Merritt to Stinchecum, December 18, 1916, RG 75, Dances. NOTES TO PAGES 131–137 271

115. Stinchecum to Sells, January 2, 1917, RG 75, Dances. 116. Stinchecum to Sells, May 31, 1917, RG 75, Dances. 117. Merritt to Stinchecum, June 18, 1917, RG 75, Dances. 118. Stinchecum to Sells, July 6, 1917, RG 75, Dances. Spellings are Stinchecum’s. 119. LaBarre field notes, August 16, 1935, KFN. 120. Kracht field notes, July 20, 1987. 121. Kracht field notes, April 30, 1987. 122. Kracht field notes, May 3, 1987, February 3, 1991. 123. Marriott field notes, “Buffalo,” 6. 124. Kracht field notes, n.d. and May 27, 1993. 125. Alice Marriott field notes, “Kiowa Give-Away and Dance,” typed manuscript, Alice L. Marriott Collection, box 9, folder 1, Western History Collections, University of Oklahoma Libraries (hereafter Marriott field notes, “Kiowa”). 126. Marriott field notes, “Kiowa,” 1, 8. 127. Marriott field notes, “Kiowa,” 1–2. 128. Marriott field notes, “Kiowa,” 1–3, 8. 129. Marriott field notes, “Kiowa,” 2–5. 130. Marriott field notes, “Kiowa,” 6–8. My friend Delores Sumner often jokes about Comanche “grass babies.” 131. Marriott field notes, “Kiowa,” 8–9, 4. 132. Marriott field notes, “Kiowa,” 1, 8–9. 133. Marriott field notes, “Kiowa,” 1, 10; Kracht field notes, August 31, 1986. 134. Marriott field notes, “Kiowa,” 10. 135. Kracht field notes, July 2, 2015, July 4, 2016. Raymond recalled that he was a teenager when the accident occurred in 1957 or 1958. Kracht field notes, May 8, 2017.

3. POSTALLOTMENT ERA 1. Randlett to Jones, September 1, 1901, ARCIA 1901:321 [4290]. 2. Superintendent Ernest Stecker to Indian Commissioner Cato Sells, September 10, 1913; Sells to Stecker, October 22, 1913, both in RG 75, entry 816.2, Missions, Missionaries, and Churches. 3. Stecker to Sells, September 10, 1913, RG 75, entry 816.2, Missions, Missionaries, and Churches. 4. Randlett to Jones, August 29, 1900, ARCIA 1900:333 [4101]; Randlett to Jones, September 1, 1901, ARCIA 1901:321 [4290]. 5. Stecker to Sells, September 10, 1913, RG 75, entry 816.2, Missions, Missionaries, and Churches. 6. Stecker to Sells, September 10, 1913; Rev. B. F. Gassaway to R. E. L. Morgan, presiding elder, Lawton District, October 30, 1913; Gassaway to Stecker, December 26, 1913; Gassaway to Stecker, January 9, 1914; Stecker to Sells, January 17, 1914; Assistant Indian Commissioner E. B. Merritt to Morgan, February 14, 1914, all in RG 75, entry 816.2, Missions, Missionaries, and Churches. 272 NOTES TO PAGES 137–149

7. Charles H. Dixon, supervisor of Indian Schools, to Indian Commissioner Francis E. Leupp, December 20, 1907; Acting Indian Commissioner C. F. Larrabee to Stecker, January 10, 1908; Stecker to Sells, September 10, 1913, all in RG 75, entry 816.2, Missions, Missionaries, and Churches. 8. Sells to Senator Robert L. Owen, July 22, 1913; A. A. Jones, first assistant interior secretary, to Senator T. P. Gore, July 22, 1913; Rev. B. F. Gassaway Morgan, August 22, 1913, all in RG 75, entry 816.2, Missions, Missionaries, and Churches. 9. Gassaway to Morgan, August 22, 1913, RG 75, entry 816.2, Missions, Missionaries, and Churches; “Mt Scott Kiowa Church,” October 14, 1984, unpublished manuscript in author’s possession. 10. Gassaway to Morgan, August 22, 1913; Sells to Representative Scott Ferris, October 22, both in RG 75, entry 816.2, Missions, Missionaries, and Churches. 11. “Ware’s Chapel, 70th Year Anniversary, 1914–1984,” unpublished manuscript in author’s possession. 12. H. L. Morehouse, corresponding secretary, American Baptist Home Mission Society, to Indian Commissioner Francis E. Leupp, September 27, 1907, RG 75, entry 816.2, Missions, Missionaries, and Churches; “Minutes of the Third Anniversary of the Western Oklahoma Indian Baptist Association, Held with the Third Kiowa Indian Baptist Church, Saddle Mountain, Okla., August 14, 15, 16, 17, 1919,” RG 75, entry 816, Religious Training. 13. David Sullivan, Redstone Baptist Church (ABC): Redstone/Arrowhawk Ministries. The Foundation, n.d., pamphlet located at church, courtesy of Rev. Ken Sullivan; Kracht field notes, July 23, 2003; Philomathic Museum, Anadarko, Oklahoma, photographs and captions. 14. Frank L. King, “Evangelism among the Kiowa,” 1929, unknown newspaper cited in Rainy Mountain Kiowa Indian Baptist Church, Mountain View, Oklahoma: Centennial, June 4–6, 1993. Celebrating 100 Years—1893–1993, spiral-bound booklet purchased by author from Rainy Mountain Church in June 1994. 15. King, “Evangelism among the Kiowa.” 16. Superintendent John A. Buntin, “Narrative Report 1930,” pp. 9–9-b, RG 75, entry 051, Negotiations with Indians, Fort Worth Federal Archives and Records Center. 17. Kracht field notes, February–May 1987. 18. Kracht field notes, June 2, 1993, July 8, 2003. 19. Kracht field notes, May 2, 1987. 20. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. Many Kiowas, especially young children, died during the 1918 influenza pandemic that killed at least 30 million people worldwide. 21. Agent J. Lee Hall to Indian Commissioner J. D. C. Atkins, August 26, 1886, ARCIA 1886:348 [2467]. 22. Special Agent E. E. White to Indian Commissioner John H. Oberly, August 18, 1888, ARCIA 1888 [2637]. NOTES TO PAGES 150–158 273

23. Agent W. D. Myers to Indian Commissioner Thomas J. Morgan, August 27, 1889, ARCIA 1889, 191 [2725]. 24. Agent George Day to Morgan, August 30, 1892, ARCIA 1892:389 [3088]. 25. Phillips Collection, photo #720, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. I am grateful to Paula Fleming for providing this photograph and others during a ten-week graduate student fellowship in 1987. 26. “Experience of Charles E. Shell While under the Influence of Pellote (Peyote) on June 21, 1909,” RG 75, entry 764, Law and Order Correspondence, Peyote 1908–18. 27. Chief Special Officer W. E. Johnson to Indian Commissioner Frances E. Leupp, May 4, 1909, RG 75, entry 764, Law and Order Correspondence, Peyote 1908–18. Note that the letter in my possession, a typed copy, has a typo in the heading, which reads “May 4, 1908.” However, the date of July 24, 1908, is referred to in the letter, rendering the earlier date improbable. Swan (1999, 109) lists the date of the letter as May 4, 1909, which I deem to be accurate. 28. Superintendent Ernest Stecker to Indian Commissioner Robert G. Valentine, February 2, 1910, RG 75, entry 126, Liquor Traffic–Cocaine–Drugs–Mescal. 29. Valentine to Stecker, March 12, 1910, RG 75, entry 126, Liquor Traffic–Cocaine– Drugs–Mescal. 30. Rev. William H. Ketcham, director of the Catholic Board of Indian Missions, to Interior Secretary Walter L. Fisher, March 9, 1911; Thomas Moffett, superintendent of the Department of the Indian Missions of the Board of Home Missions (Presbyterian), to Ketcham, November 11, 1910; Merrill E. Gates, secretary, Board of Indian Commissioners, to Ketcham, November 2, 1910, all in RG 75, entry 764, Law and Order Correspondence, Peyote 1908–18. 31. Indian Service Supervisor Elsie E. Newton to Valentine, August 29, 1911, RG 75, entry 764, Law and Order Correspondence, Peyote 1908–18. 32. For example, Devlan L. Pierson, “Indian Peyote Worship,” Southern Workman 1915:201– 6; Joseph A. Murphy, “Peyote,” Native American 1913:379–80; George Watermulder, “Mescal: A Menace to the Indians,” Southern Workman 1914:681–87; John W. Clark, “Peyote,” Indian’s Friend 1916:6; “The Use of Peyote by Indians,” Indian School Journal 1914; “Peyote Injurious to Utah Indians,” Indian School Journal 1916; “What about Peyote?,” Haskell Institute YMCA Bulletin 1914(4):4; “Resolution Adopted by the Third National Student Conference, Estes Park, Colorado,” Sherman Bulletin 1916; “History, Use and Effects of Peyote,” Indian School Journal 12(7):239– 42, 12(8):289–93; Gertrude Seymour, “Peyote Worship: An Indian Cult and a Powerful Drug,” Survey 36(7):181–84; Devlan L. Pierson, “The Peyote Worship and Its Degrading Results,” Missionary Review 1915:201– 6. All articles are filed under RG 75, entry 1395, tray 119, Reference Material: Peyote. 33. Watermulder, “Mescal: A Menace to the Indians.”

274 NOTES TO PAGES 159–162

34. Rev. George Vaux, chairman, Board of Indian Commissioners, to Interior Secretary Franklin K. Lane, October 24, 1914; F. H. Abbott, secretary, Board of Indian Commissioners, “Memorandum for Members of the Board,” 1915, both in RG 75, entry 1395, tray 119, Reference Material: Peyote. 35. Parker McKenzie, “Schedule of Indian Agents &/or Superintendents for the Kiowa, Comanche & Kiowa-Apache Tribes from May 1869 to Mar. 31, 1922,” typewritten manuscript courtesy of William C. Meadows. 36. Officer Henry A. Larson to Superintendent C. V. Stinchecum, April 24, May 24, June 14, 1915; Stinchecum to Larson, May 11, 27, 1915, all in RG 75, entry 1395, tray 119, Reference Material: Peyote. 37. Stinchecum to Larson, January 20, 1917, RG 75, entry 1395, tray 119, Reference Material: Peyote. 38. Assistant Chief Special Officer Brents to Larson, September 23, 1918, RG 75, entry 1395, tray 119, Reference Material: Peyote. 39. Utah State Bill No. 9, RG 75, entry 764, Law and Order Correspondence, Peyote 1908–18. 40. Vaux to Ketcham, January 25, 1918, RG 75, entry 1395, tray 119, Reference Material: Peyote. 41. “To the Committee of Indian Affairs, House of Representatives, Washington, D.C.,” Papers of Weston LaBarre, box 9, Peyote Studies, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 42. “Articles of Incorporation of the Native American Church,” Papers of Weston LaBarre, box 9, Peyote Studies, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 43. James Mooney to Julia Bent Prentis, Calumet, Oklahoma, July 29, 1918; Stinchecum to Indian Office, Western Union Telegram, October 22, 1918; Indian Commissioner Cato Sells to Stinchecum, October 22, 1918; Sells to Charles D. Walcott, secretary, Smithsonian Institution, October 22, 1918; Walcott to Sells, October 23, 1918; Assistant Indian Commissioner E. B. Merritt to Walcott, October 30, 1918; Merritt to Stinchecum, October 30, 1918; Merritt to Stinchecum, October 31, 1918; Walcott to Sells, October 31, 1918; Stinchecum to Indian Office, November 9, 1918; Merritt to Stinchecum, November 9, 1918; Bruck Kinny, general superintendent, American Baptist Home Mission Society, to Stinchecum, November 23, 1918; Stinchecum to Sells, November 27, 1918; “Statement of Herman Asenap against James Mooney,” December 5, 1918; Stinchecum to Sells, December 14, 1918; Larson to Sells, December 18, 1918; Mooney to Frederick M. Smith, May 19, 1920; Smith to Senator James A. Reed, May 24, 1920; Walcott to John B. Payne, June 11, 1920; “Memorandum to Cato Sells,” June 12, 1920; Commissioner Charles H. Burke to Mooney, July 16, 1921; Burke to Walcott, July 16, 1921; C. G. Abbot, acting secretary, Smithsonian Institution, to Burke, July 18, 1921, all in RG 75, entry 126, Mescal.

NOTES TO PAGES 162–166 275

44. Untitled article by William E. Johnson, July 1923, Indian Rights Association Papers (1923), Letters, reel 39, D’Arcy McNickle Center for the History of the American Indian, Newberry Library. 45. See especially the correspondence of the Indian Rights Association, 1923–24, Indian Rights Association Papers, Letters (1923), reel 39; Indian Rights Association Papers, Circular 1665 (1923), reel 40; Indian Rights Association Papers, Correspondence, reel 87, all in D’Arcy McNickle Center for the History of the American Indian, Newberry Library. 46. Statement by Native American Church given to Weston LaBarre by Mrs. George Pipestem (Oto), Papers of Weston LaBarre, box 9, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 47. Indian Commissioner John Collier to Donald Collier, March 30, 1937; Donald Collier to John Collier, March 31, 1937; Weston LaBarre to John Collier, March 31, 1937; John Collier to LaBarre, April 2, 1937; LaBarre to John Collier, April 5, 1937, all in Papers of Weston LaBarre, box 5, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 48. Departmental Report, Statement by Weston LaBarre, May 18, 1937, RG 75, entry 178, Office File of Indian Commissioner John Collier, 1933– 45: Peyote. 49. Departmental Report, Statement by Franz Boas, RG 75, entry 178, Office File of Indian Commissioner John Collier, 1933– 45: Peyote. 50. Departmental Report, Statement by Vicenzo Petrullo, RG 75, entry 178, Office File of Indian Commissioner John Collier, 1933– 45: Peyote. 51. Departmental Report, Statement by Mrs. Elna Smith, RG 75, entry 178, Office File of Indian Commissioner John Collier, 1933– 45: Peyote. 52. Bascom field notes, August 21, 1935, KFN. LaBarre (1938) used the Santa Fe field party notes from other students for The Peyote Cult. 53. LaBarre field notes, August 17, 1935, KFN. 54. LaBarre field notes, August 17, 1935, KFN. 55. LaBarre field notes, August 26, 1935, KFN. 56. Kracht field notes, February 11, 20, March 12, April 30, 1987. 57. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987, July 30, 2003, October 1989. 58. Betty Tanedooah Tongkeamah, “Kiowa Indian Medicine Man,” handwritten manuscript, ca. 1984, in author’s possession. 59. LaBarre field notes, August 26, 1935, KFN. 60. Collier field notes, July 11, 1935, KFN. 61. Collier field notes, July 11, 1935; Bascom field notes, July 27, 1935, KFN. Lone Bear identified Jim Ahtone and Pola as owners of buffalo medicine, which Haumpy disputed. 62. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 63. LaBarre field notes, July 20, 1935, August 17, 1935, KFN. 64. Kracht field notes, July 4, 2016.

276 NOTES TO PAGES 166–179

4. AFTER WORLD WAR II 1. Superintendent Walter B. McCown to Regional Director A. C. Monahan, March 21, 1941, BIA General Records 610.1, “Indians in World War II,” Fort Worth Federal Archives and Records Center. 2. Carol Holloway, “Poolaw Bust Dedication Set Monday,” Anadarko Daily News, November 8, 1968, reprinted in Bantista (n.d., 17). Other Kiowa soldiers have been killed in combat since World War II: Silas Boyiddle, Luke Tainpeah, and Denis Karty perished in the Korean conflict; Donald Bear and Cletus Poolaw were killed in the Vietnam War. Information from pamphlet distributed on May 30, 1993, at Kiowa Memorial Park inside the Kiowa Complex: “Kiowa War Memorial Dedication Ceremonies and Program: ‘Memorial Day.’” 3. “Kiowa Chapter No. 18,” in Souvenir of the 59th Annual American Indian Exposition, August 20th thru 25th, 1990, Anadarko, Oklahoma, in author’s possession; “Original members of the Kiowa War Mothers, ca. 1942”; “Kiowa Victory Club, Carnegie, ca. 1934”; “Original Members of Kiowa Victory Club,” all photograph captions from Kiowa Elder Center, Kiowa Tribal Complex, Carnegie, Oklahoma, May 1993. The last photograph identifies nineteen original members of the Kiowa Victory Club. 4. Jasper Saunkeah to McCown, February 8, 1944; Saunkeah to McCown, June 3, 1944, BIA General Records 660, War Mothers, 1944, Fort Worth Federal Archives and Records Center. 5. Maude E. Lyon, “Social Worker’s Report, January to March 31, 1943,” BIA General Records 740, Maude E. Lyon, Social Worker, 1943–44, Fort Worth Federal Archives and Records Center. 6. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. 7. James Mooney, “BAE Manuscript” No. 2537, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 8. Stinchecum to Larson, January 20, 1917, RG 75, entry 126, Liquor Traffic– Cocaine–Drugs–Mescal; R. L. Newberne, and C. H. Burke, “Peyote: An Abridged Compilation from the Files of the Bureau of Indian Affairs” (1925), in Weston LaBarre, n.d., Peyote Studies, box 7, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 9. Marriott field notes, “Kiowa,” 8–9, 4. 10. Kracht field notes, April 9, 14, 30, 1987. 11. Kracht field notes, July 14, 2003. According to Gus, they were the only Roadmen who could speak fluent Kiowa. Gus died on November 18, 2006. 12. Judge Yale McFate to Omer C. Stewart, Institute of Behavioral Science, University of Colorado, October 19, 1960, Papers of Weston LaBarre, Peyote Studies, Legal File, Smithsonian Drug Conference, Printed and Processed Material, box 8 of 14, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

NOTES TO PAGES 181–184 277

13. Herbert L. Ely, attorney at law, to Omer C. Stewart, August 10, 1960, Papers of Weston LaBarre, Peyote Studies, Legal File, Smithsonian Drug Conference, Printed and Processed Material, box 8 of 14, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 14. “Decision of the Honorable Yale McFate in the case of The State of Arizona vs. Mary Attakai, No. 4098,” July 26, 1960, Papers of Weston LaBarre, Peyote Studies, Legal File, Smithsonian Drug Conference, Printed and Processed Material, box 8 of 14, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 15. John MacCormack, “Precious Cactus Cache: Peyote Harvest a Way of Life in Remote Region,” Dallas Times Herald, May 11, 1986; John Morthland, “Peyote Pushers: In the Texas Desert, a Tiny Band Harvests an Outlawed Drug—and It’s Perfectly Legal,” Chicago Tribune, September 5, 1988. 16. Sam Houston Clinton Jr., general council, Texas Civil Liberties Union, to Weston LaBarre, Department of Sociology and Anthropology, Duke University, April 4 and 30, 1968; “Direct Interrogatories to be propounded to Dr. Weston LaBarre,” 49th Judicial District Court, Webb County, Texas, both in Papers of Weston LaBarre, Peyote Studies, Legal File, Smithsonian Drug Conference, Printed and Processed Material, box 8 of 14, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 17. James Kilpatrick, “Indians Have a Case with Peyote,” Evansville (IN) Courier, November 19, 1989; Jeff Barnard, “Top Court to Rule on Indian Peyote Ritual,” Gary (IN) Post-Tribune, December 8, 1987. 18. “Court Upholds Religious Peyote Use,” Gary (IN) Post-Tribune, October 19, 1988. 19. Jerry Fink, “Indians Cheer Peyote Measure,” Tulsa (OK) World, September 20, 1994. 20. Kracht field notes, May 19, 1993, July 14, 2003. 21. Kracht field notes, February 19, 20, 1987. 22. Kracht field notes, May 19, 1993. 23. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. 24. Kracht field notes, July 4, 1985, February 19, 20, 1987. 25. Kracht field notes, October 11, 1989. 26. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 27. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 28. Kracht field notes, February 19, 20, 1987. 29. Kracht field notes, June 1, 1993. 30. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. 31. Kracht field notes, April 8, May 1, 13, 1987. 32. Kracht field notes, April 9, May 3, 1987. 33. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987, June 1, 1993. The Bible verse is from John 14:2: “In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you” (KJV). 34. Kracht field notes, February 19 and 20, 1987, July 16, 2003. On the former date I charted Gus’s kinship. Clara Mopope, Choctaw Bill’s fourth wife, bore him 278 NOTES TO PAGES 184–192

nine children. Gus was the second oldest son. Apparently Choctaw Bill married eight times, and his first three wives died before he married Clara. 35. Kracht field notes, February 19, 20, 1987. 36. While stationed at MacDill Air Base in 1944, Gus and photographer Horace Poolaw were filmed inside a B-17 (Poolaw and Marriott 1990, 25). 37. Kracht field notes, February 19, 20, 1987. 38. Kracht field notes, February 19, 20, 1987. 39. Henry Tanedooah was born in the fall of 1882. Vena Daugomah Beaver, Tanee-doo-ah (1844–1921) and Tar-so-ee (1849–1937) family descendants. Typewritten manuscript compiled in June 1974, in author’s collection, courtesy of Betty Tanedooah Tongkeamah. 40. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 41. Kracht field notes, July 14, 2003. Her given name was LaDonna Palmer. 42. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 43. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 44. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 45. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 46. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 47. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 48. Kracht field notes, February 20, March 12, 1987. 49. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 50. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 51. James Mooney, “Kiowa Heraldry Notebook: Descriptions of Kiowa Tipis and Shields,” manuscript 2531, 1891–1904, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 52. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 53. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 54. MacCormack, “Precious Cactus Cache”; Morthland, “Peyote Pushers.” 55. Kracht field notes, May 24, 1993, April 7, 1987. Father Mike was the primary minister at St. Patrick’s when I visited him in 1987. 56. Map, “Oklahoma Indian Missionary Conference, United Methodist Church,” n.d., in author’s possession. 57. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. Ted Ware was Gina’s first husband. Linn Pauahty, her second husband, was still living in 1987, when we visited. At the time she was known as Gina Quoetone Ware Pauahty. 58. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. Italics represent her emphasis. 59. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. Italics represent her emphasis. 60. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. 61. Kracht field notes, May 13, 1987. 62. Kracht field notes, May 17, 1993. 63. The Riveras were still affiliated with White Church when I visited this area in June 2004. NOTES TO PAGES 192–206 279

64. Kracht field notes, May 13, 1987. 65. Kracht field notes, May 13, 1987. 66. Kracht field notes, April 14, 1987. 67. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. 68. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. 69. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. 70. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. 71. Kracht field notes, June 11, 2004. 72. Kracht field notes, June 18, 2004. 73. Kracht field notes, June 8, 2004. 74. Kracht field notes, April 30, 1987. 75. Kracht field notes, June 10, 2004. 76. Kracht field notes, April 30, 1987. 77. Kracht field notes, July 9, 2003. 78. Kracht field notes, June 10, 2004. 79. Kracht field notes, July 8, 2003, June 6, 2004. 80. Kracht field notes, July 23, 2003. 81. Kracht field notes, July 23, 2003. 82. David Sullivan, “Redstone Baptist Church (ABC): Redstone/ArrowHawk Ministries. The Foundation,” pamphlet at Redstone Church, copied July 23, 2003, courtesy of Rev. Ken Sullivan. 83. Kracht field notes, May 26, 1994, June 26, 2004; Baseball Supplement, “Southwestern Indian Fair and All State Indian Baseball Tournament,” August 4–11, 1935, BIA General Records 072, Fairs, Indian (American Indian Expo), 1935–41, Fort Worth Federal Archives and Records Center. Mose Poolaw was chairman of the Baseball Tournament Committee. 84. Kracht field notes, May 1, 1987. 85. Kracht field notes, July 8, 2003. 86. Kracht field notes, May 12, 1987. 87. Kracht field notes, May 12, 1987, July 13, 2003. In their book, The Jesus Road: Kiowas, Christianity, and Indian Hymns, Luke Eric Lassiter, Clyde Ellis, and Ralph Kotay (2002, xi, 1–5) misspell Woesner’s last name as Westner. Ellis (1998, xix) also misspells Woesner’s name in his article “She Gave Us the Jesus Way.” 88. Kracht field notes, May 12, 1987, July 13, 2003. 89. Kracht field notes, May 3, 1987. 90. Kracht field notes, May 1993, May 1994, July 2003, June 2004. 91. Kracht field notes, April 12, 1987. 92. Rev. Ken Sullivan, sermon at Oklahoma Indian American Baptist Association annual camp meeting at Wichita Mission, Anadarko, Oklahoma, June 11, 2004. 93. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. 94. Kracht field notes, May 1, 1987. 95. Kracht field notes, May 28, 1993. 280 NOTES TO PAGES 207–218

96. Kracht field notes, April 8, 1987. 97. Kracht field notes, April 30, 1987. 98. Kracht field notes, May 24, 1993. 99. Kracht field notes, May 17, 1993. 100. Kracht field notes, May 1, 1987.

CONCLUSION 1. The very same story, with a few editorial changes, appears in Boyd (1983, 205– 6). The account was found in the Susan Peters Collection and was probably her copy. 2. Anna R. Fait, “Missionary’s Wife Tells Her Story,” document submitted to the Anadarko Presbyterian Church History Foundation in 1943, reprinted in Anadarko Daily News Visitors Guide 1986–87:29. Fait fails to mention that Given served as an interpreter for the Kiowas during the Jerome Agreement negotiations. Shortly after the sessions ended in October 1892, the Kiowas who signed the document claimed they had been misled by Given. According to oral tradition, the Kiowa shamans killed Given with malign magic (Kracht 1989, 521–24; Nye 1937, 304; Boyd 1983, 267; Methvin n.d.a, 98). 3. Mrs. Mary Clouse, Mountain View, Oklahoma, to Stinchecum, March 26, 1918; Stinchecum to Clouse, April 12, 1918, both in Kiowa Agency Microfilm, KA 74, frames 1158– 60, Indian Archives, Oklahoma Historical Society, Oklahoma City. 4. LaBarre field notes, July 3, 1935; Collier field notes, July 19, 29, 1935, KFN. 5. Clouse to Stinchecum, March 26, 1918; Stinchecum to Clouse, April 12, 1918, both in Microfilm Letters, Kiowa Agency Microfilm, KA 74, frames 1158– 60, Oklahoma Historical Society. 6. Kracht field notes, March 17, 1991. 7. Kracht field notes, April 1987. 8. Kracht field notes, May 19, 1994. 9. Kracht field notes, July 5, 2003. 10. Kracht field notes, May 24, 1993. 11. Kracht field notes, April 28, 30, May 13, 1987. 12. Kracht field notes, April 30, 1987. 13. Kracht field notes, May 1, 1987. 14. Kracht field notes, April 9, 1987. 15. Kracht field notes, April 8, 14, 1987. 16. Kracht field notes, May 1983. This was the first Black Leggings dance I ever attended. 17. Kracht field notes, December 18, 2011. 18. Crawford (1915, 123) identified Odlepaugh’s wife by another name, Ananthy, perhaps derived from ananti (cross or ill-tempered). Perhaps this was her nickname because she referred to herself as “mean and cranky.” NOTES TO PAGES 219–244 281

19. Kracht field notes, May 24, June 2, June 4, 1993. 20. Kracht field notes, April 14, 1987. 21. Kracht field notes, May 24, June 2,1993. 22. Kracht field notes, April 10, 1987. 23. Kracht field notes, July 27, 2003. 24. LaBarre field notes, July 27, 1935, KFN. 25. LaBarre field notes, July 23, 1935, KFN. 26. Collier field notes, July 11, 1935; Richardson field notes, July 22, 1935; LaBarre field notes, July 3 and 23, 1935, KFN. 27. LaBarre field notes, July 3 and 23, 1935; Collier field notes, July 29, 1935, KFN. 28. LaBarre field notes, July 23, 1935, KFN. 29. Kracht field notes, June 4, 1993. 30. Kracht field notes, June 21, 2004. 31. Kracht field notes, June 9, 2004. 32. Kracht field notes, May 1, 1987. 33. Kracht field notes, July 8, 2003. 34. Collier field notes, July 29, 1935; Bascom field notes, n.d., KFN. 35. Richardson field notes, July 14, 1935, KFN. 36. “City Teen Killed in One-Car Accident,” Anadarko Daily News, June 21, 2004. 37. Kracht field notes, June 24, 2004. 38. Kracht field notes, July 10, 2003. 39. Kracht field notes, June 28, 2004. 40. Kracht field notes, June 28, 2004, July 4, 2016. 41. Kracht field notes, February 20, 1987. 42. Kracht field notes, July 18, 2003. Chad and Jaime were undergraduate students at Northeastern State University who joined me in the field that summer. At the time it appeared that the strong prayers offered by a Christian and a Peyotist would bless the new tribal government. Unfortunately the prayers did not have a lasting effect; the Kiowa Business Committee was ousted from office after a January 2004 takeover of the tribal offices and subsequent recall election the following June. 43. Kracht field notes, January 13, 1987. 44. Kracht field notes, May 13, 14, 1987. 45. Kracht field notes, July 2, 1989. Clifton lived another four years. 46. Kracht field notes, June 10, 2004. 47. Kracht field notes, May 16, 1987. 48. Kracht field notes, n.d. 49. Kracht field notes, May 18, 1994, July 8, 2003. 50. Kracht field notes, July 17, 2003. 51. Kracht field notes, June 8, 2004. 52. Kracht field notes, June 10, 2004. 53. Kracht field notes, n.d. 282 NOTES TO PAGES 244–253

54. McNeill field notes, July 14, 2003, in author’s possession. 55. Castro field notes, June 8, 23, 2004, in author’s possession. 56. McNeill field notes, July 17, 2003, in author’s possession. 57. Castro field notes, June 10, 2004, in author’s possession. 58. McNeill field notes, July 28, 2003, in author’s possession. 59. Kracht field notes, June 10, 2004. 60. Kracht field notes, July 8, 2003. 61. McNeill field notes, July 14, 23, 2003, in author’s possession. 62. Kracht field notes, August 30, 1986. 63. McNeill field notes, July 23, 2003, in author’s possession. 64. Armstrong field notes, July 17, 2003, in author’s possession; Kracht field notes, July 17, 2003.

NOTES TO PAGES 253–258 283

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Index Page numbers in italics refer to illustrations. Aberle, David, 17, 165, 185 ABHMS. See American Baptist Home Mission Society (ABHMS) Acculturation (Herskovits), 13 Act of June 1, 1906, 49 Adair, James, 228 Adams, Charles E., 10, 43, 53, 55, 64, 67– 68, 100, 102 Afghanistan war, 252–53 Afraid-of-Bears (Setapeto), xviii, 104– 6, 111, 116, 123–28, 132–34, 221, 268n22, 271n94 Ah dong ky (White Buffalo), 122 Ahpeahtone, Lizzie, 182 Ahpeahtone, Spencer, 206 Ahtape, Clyde, 26 Ah-to-mah, 63 Ahtone, Jake, 214 Ahtone, Jim, xviii, 24, 81, 135–36, 164, 174–75, 178, 276n61 Ahtone, Libby Botone, 154–55 Ahtone, Sam, 164 Ahtone, Samuel, 57 Aitson, Amos, xxi, 206, 219, 228 Aitson, Lucille Tsalote, 206 Aitson, Lucius (Killed Him on the Sly), 34, 59– 63, 110, 113, 206, 235, 238, 240 Aitson, Mable, 59

Aki/ɛnde, 71 Albert Horse Memorial Church, 190, 203, 212, 242 Amauty, Billy, xxi, 29, 125, 187, 190, 208, 243, 248 American Baptist Home Mission Society (ABHMS), 39, 53–55, 64, 215 American Indian Religious Freedom Act Amendments, 26, 186, 201, 223 American Indian Religious Freedom Act of 1978, 185 American War Mothers National Association, 181 Anadarko affair, 8 Anadarko Boarding School, 149, 153 Ananthy, 240, 281n18. See also Kol-anon-da-mah (Buffalo Hoof Prints) Andersson, Rani-Henrik, 22, 25, 96, 120 annuity payments, 5, 114, 122–23, 131– 32, 135–36, 161 anti–Ghost Dance campaign, 119– 45 anti–Gift Dance campaign, 124–25, 128–29, 136, 140 anti-Peyote campaign, 158– 69 Apekaum, Charley: “Autobiography of a Kiowa Indian,” 170; on “Choctaw” Bill Palmer, 192; as Christian convert, 30, 40; on Ghost Dance, 132, 267n9; on Indian dances, 155–56; as interpreter for anthropologists, 297

Apekaum (continued) 24; at Methvin Institute, 45– 46; and Peyote rite, xvii–xviii, 26–28, 72–73, 75, 164– 65, 170–71, 173–75, 178–80; and Peyote Woman, 199–200 Apekaum, Old Man, 24–27, 70–72, 75, 82, 84, 86, 96–97, 102, 104– 6 Ä′piatañ (Wooden Lance): as Christian convert, 43; and Ghost Dance, 23, 95–96, 101–3, 122, 124, 128–30, 221; and Peyote rite, 71, 160, 179; and polygyny, 238; pronunciation of, 260n11; and Sons of the Sun, 85, 87 Armstrong, Chad, 250, 257 ArrowHawk Ministries, 213–15 ArrowHawk Recreation Center, 213 ArrowHawk Youth Camp, 213 Asah, Spencer, 67 Äsa′tito′la (The Messenger), 99–100 Ä′sem, Robert, 71 Ashby, H. S. P., 37 Atkins, John D. C., 51 Attakai, Mary, 184–85 Auchiah, James, 67 Au kaunt. See Given, Frank “Autobiography of a Kiowa Indian” (Apekaum), 170 B., Joe, 62 B‛á·bote, 70 Bagyanoi (Recovery Many Things), xviii, 27, 69–70 Baldwin, Frank D., 49–50, 68 Ballew, J. M., 39 Ballew, Lauretta E., 53–58 baptism customs, 49, 60, 65, 168, 198, 237–38, 244– 46 Baptists: and baptism, popularity of, 237–38; baptism customs of, 49; current status of, among Kiowas, 29–30, 209–13, 215–18, 254–55; and Ghost Dance, 134; and Kiowa 298 INDEX

mourning customs, 236; missions and schools of, 36, 39, 43, 53– 64, 68– 69; and 1909 camp meeting, 121; and pagan and heathen practices, 75; and Peyote rite, 126; in postallotment era, 151–54, 178–80; after World War II, 202–3 Barefoot, 151 Barney, Garold D., 90 Bascom, William, 24, 26–27, 79, 81, 260n3 baseball, 214–15 Bates, Agatha Paddlety, 190, 215, 217– 19, 243, 247 Battey, Thomas C., 7, 29, 34, 59, 226; The Life and Adventures of a Quaker among the Indians, 30 battlefield pledges, 242 Bell’s Palsy (ghost sickness), 247 Berry, Tennyson, 136–37 BIA. See Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) Bi′äñk‛i (Eater), 99–100, 103 Big Bow, 6, 85, 87, 119 Big Bow, Harding, 181, 202, 247 Big Bow, Joe, 183, 201, 237 Big Bow, Nelson, 183, 201–2 Big Eats, 240– 41, 244 Bigfoot, 248– 49 Big Horse, 69 Big Joe, 122, 164, 192 Big Looking Glass, 47– 48 Big Tree, 55–57, 130, 134–35, 243 Black, Galen W., 186 Black Coyote, 90 Black Leggings Warrior Society, 219, 237, 243, 281n6 Black Sharp Nose, 90 Blue Jay, Old Man, 177–78 Board of Catholic Missions, 11 Board of Home Missions, 49–51 Board of Indian Commissioners, 11, 120, 162 Boas, Franz, 168

Bǫitse, 70 Boston Indian Citizenship Committee, 11 Bó·ton, 71 Botone, Matthew, 154 Botone Memorial Methodist Church, 155, 202–3, 242 Boyd, Maurice: Kiowa Voices, 105, 268n22 Boyiddle, Pickles, 236 Brace, Ned, xviii, 27, 160 Brewer, W. A., 47 Brewster, Helen, 47– 48 Brown, Cap, 71 Brush Dance, 142 Buffalo, Charley, 137 Buffalo, Homer, 26–27, 164 Buffalo, Mary, 24, 26–27, 79–80, 236, 246 Buffalo doctors, 4, 74, 144, 178, 192, 199 buffalo hide war shields, 4, 23, 79, 85, 92, 114 Buffalo Medicine Lodge, 4, 73, 85, 199 Buntin, John A., 153 Burdette, Mary G., 54 Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA), xxi, 7, 36, 67, 120, 149, 183, 223, 260n4 Burke, Charles H., 120, 166 Butler, Josiah, 33 Butterfield, Andrew E., 47– 48, 64, 150 Cache Creek Church, 203, 211–12, 216, 246, 248, 251, 253, 255–58 Cache Creek Full Gospel Church, 206 Cache Creek Mission, 51–53, 67– 68 Cache Creek Mission Boarding School, 67– 69, 148 Cache Creek United Methodist Church, xiii, 190 Calendar History of the Kiowa Indians (Mooney), xvi, 26 camps and camp meetings. See encampments cargo cults, 15

Carithers, W. W., 51–53, 52 Carlisle Indian Industrial School, 9, 38, 42, 60 Castaneda, Carlos: The Teachings of Don Juan, 185 Castro, J. Justin, 210, 253, 255 Cat, Albert, 165 Catholics and Catholicism: and antiPeyote campaign, 161; and baptism of Gus Palmer Sr., 202; and Board of Catholic Missions, 11; and Ghost Dance, 90, 111; missions and schools of, xvi, 39, 64– 67, 148– 49; in modern times, 238; in postallotment era, 148– 49, 153, 159, 161; syncretisms of, 14; after World War II, 203– 4 ɔdltando (sprinkle baptism), 49 Cedar Creek Methodist Church, 150, 155, 202 cedar incense, 72–73, 105–8, 107, 111, 117, 157, 173, 196, 198–99, 237, 247–48 cedar Peyote box, 193, 199–200 Central Board of Missions of the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America, 49, 51 Chaddlesone, Sherman, 130 Chaino, 63 Chambers, Claude S., 164 Chatkehoodle, 138 Cheyenne Dog Soldier Society, 6 Christianity: and crying while praying, 230–33, 250, 254; current status of, among Kiowas, 224–25; and deprivation models of revitalization, 19–20; and gender parity, 207; and Ghost Dance, 89, 105, 109, 111, 114–15, 126, 133, 139; healing powers of, 230; and Indian dances, 155–56; indiginized, 221– 49; and Kiowa baptism customs, 49, 60, 65, 168, 198, 237–38, 244–46; and Kiowa Christmas traditions, 243– 44; and INDEX 299

Christianity (continued) Kiowa cosmology, 196–97; Kiowa resistance to conversion to, 23, 237– 38; and Native American Church, 18; overview of, 28–31; and Peyotism, 25, 71, 168, 172, 179; pledges by converts to, 71, 239– 44; in postallotment era, 147–56; reasons for conversion to, 178–79; as revitalization movement, 224; and sorcery, 75; and Sun Dance, 24; after World War II, 182–83, 187, 189–91, 202–19. See also missionaries; missions and schools; syncretisms; specific denominations and churches Christian reformers. See “friends of the Indian” Christmas traditions, 243– 44 Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints, 36 Circular 1665, 120, 166 Clark, David S., 185 Clark, M. A., 150 Clark, W. P.: The Indian Sign Language, 59 class system, Kiowa, 2–3 Clay, Charles W., 150 Cleghorn, Penny, 256–57 Cleveland, C. A., 37, 43 Clinton, Bill, 186 Clouse, H. H., 58–59, 63, 125–26, 151 Clouse, Mary, 236 Coco, Clyde, 80 Codsy, 160 Collier, Donald, xvii, 5, 24–28, 168 Collier, John, xvii–xviii, 11, 77, 82, 98, 118, 120, 140, 147, 166– 68, 190–91 complex syncretisms, 14, 180, 200 Cornbread, 178 Corwin, Hugh D., 30, 51, 62; The Kiowa Indians, 30 cosmography, 3 Cottonwood Grove Methodist Church, 49 300 INDEX

Courts of Indian Offences, 10–11, 120 Cozad, Belo, xviii, 164 Crawford, Isabel, xviii, 30, 58– 63, 110– 13, 115–16, 211–12, 225–31, 235–45, 251, 255, 264n65, 281n18; From Tent to Chapel at Saddle Mountain, 30; Kiowa, 30 Crawford, Suzanne J., 249 Cross Fire rites, 201 Crow Dance, 93–94, 118, 269n44 cultural genocide, 11–13 cultural syncretisms, 13 curing power, 4 Curley, Helen Quoetone, 30 Custer, George A., 6 Dædl (Morning Star), 73 Dalton, Matthew W., 36 Dangerous Drug Act of 1953 (Texas), 184–85 Dangerous Eagle, 34 Dátekâñ (Keeps-His-Name-Always), 78, 82 Dävéko, 78, 82 Dawes Act of 1887, 28, 39, 50 Daw-kee-boom-gee-k’oop (God’s Light upon the Mountain) mission society, 60– 61, 63, 240 Day, George D., 47, 53, 68, 159 dɔdɔ (power): Christian, 225, 229–30; death of owners of, 23; in early twentieth century, 115; fusion of, with Christian concept of God, 197; of Hand Game players, 78, 80–81; inclusivity of, 244, 256; in Jesus, 253; modern notion of, 253; overview of, 3–5; in Peyote, 74; of Peyote rite, 157, 179, 207; and prophesy, 82, 85, 88; in visions and dreams, 257 dɔDo·ɔ (medicine hand game), 78 de Hasque, Urban, 66 DeMallie, Raymond J., 109, 120

deprivation model of revitalization movements, xv, 15–19, 21–22 Deyo, E. C., 64 Deyo Mission, 64 The Diabolic Root (Petrullo), 168– 69 Dobia, 71 Dog Soldiers, 6–7 Doito, 72 Domah, Minnie, 157, 194 Domebo, Charles, 151 Domot, 228–32 Doors of Perception (Huxley), 185 Doyah, Ray, 247, 260n11 Doyeto, Joe, 138 dreams and visions, 256–57 Drexel, Catherine, 65– 66 Dunham, Katherine, 14 Dunlop, John, 45 Dunlop, Maggie, 45 Dunmoe, Etalye, 42, 233–34 Dunmoe, Laura. See Pedrick, Laura Dutch Reformed Church, 150 Edwards, Jay D., 14 Ehǫ, 71 Elk Creek Baptist Church, 203, 215 Elk Creek Mission, 57–58, 151 Elk Mountain, 254 Ellis, Clyde, 154, 224–25, 280n87 Ellis, Katherine, 121 E-mau-tah (Kissing His Wife), 130 Emma Chapel, 48 Employment Division of Oregon v. Smith, 186 encampments: Christmas revival, 29, 147, 153–54, 208–9, 243– 44; contemporary church, 212; diseases spread in, 160, 227–28; Fourth of July and New Year’s, 106; Ghost Dance, 92– 93, 95–97, 100–101, 104, 107, 114–16, 125–28, 132, 247, 266n115; Isabel Crawford at, 60– 61; Isidore Rick-

lin at, 65; J. J. Methvin at, 40– 43, 48; John McIntosh at, 36–37; Kate Elliott Murrow at, 54–55; kin-based, 9–11; Kiowa Give-Away and Dance, 141– 42; Kiowa Warrior Descendants, 257; Maryetta J. Reeside and Lauretta E. Ballew at, 53–58; and missionaries, 208–9, 212, 217, 243– 44; Pa-iñgya at, 85–86; Pa-tepte at, 82–84; and Peyote rite, 158; for protection, 2, 7; and raiding parties, 6; for ration distribution, 6; Silas V. and Mary Fait at, 50; Sitting Bull’s, 95–99; small family, 113; summer revival, 209–11, 243; Sun Dance, 247; Thomas C. Battey at, 30, 34; and War Dance, 118–19 Episcopalians, 35–37, 43– 44, 49–50, 69 equilibrium theory, 18 Etälyidónmo (He Hunts for Boys), 42, 233–34 Etchieson, D. D., 203 ethnocide (cultural genocide), 11–13 Evangelical revitalism, 11 expressive movements, 17–18, 165, 223 Fait, Anna, 49–50, 149, 234, 281n2 Fait, Silas V., 49–51, 53, 149, 234 faith healing, 239, 246 Fancy Dance, 142 feather-giving ceremony, 118–19 feathers, ritual use of, 72–74, 91–96, 98–99, 105–8, 111, 114–15, 118–19, 142– 43, 177, 198–99 Ferris, Scott, 131, 136 First United Methodist Church, 203– 4 Fisher, Walter L., 161 food sharing, 243, 257–58 Fort Sill Agency School, 33–34, 38, 68–69 Fort Sill Military Reservation, 64 “friends of the Indian,” xviii, 11–13, 23, 120, 156, 159– 60, 162, 165– 66, 223 INDEX 301

Frizzlehead, Max: and Ghost Dance, xviii, 119, 137; and Hand Game, 24, 76–79; and Peyote rite, xviii, 71, 160, 164, 170; and prophet movement, xviii; and Sun Dance, 5, 119; and Sun People, 24, 85–87 Frizzlehead, Smotah, 164 From Tent to Chapel at Saddle Mountain (Crawford), 30 Full Gospel Church, 206 Gahbein, 63 Gandy bill (proposed), 163 Gassaway, B. F., xviii, 125–26, 149–51, 226 Geertz, Clifford, 16 Geikauma, Bert (Crow Lance), 3, 27, 137–38, 164, 190–91 Geionety, Freddie, 205, 215, 219 gender parity, 207, 253 General Allotment Act of 1887. See Dawes Act of 1887 genocide, cultural, 11–13 Geronimo, 64, 246 Ghost Dance, 89–103; adaptation and spread of, 90–91; Ä′piatañ’s investigation of, 101–3; behavioral patterns of, 15; and blacklisted dancers, 137– 38; campaign against, 119–45; Christian syncretisms in, 89–90, 110–12, 114–15, 133; Crow Dance preceding, 93–94, 118, 269n44; and cultural genocide, 12–13; demise of, 24, 138, 152, 222; description of, 91–94, 107; disbelievers in, 95–96, 101–3; doctrine of, 94, 109; in early twentieth century, 116–19; and facial designs, 92; as forward-looking movement, 22; hypnosis and trances in, 91–93, 97; and Indian schools, 68; James Mooney on, 90–96, 99–104, 110, 112, 114, 118; Jimmy Quoetone on, 97– 99, 132; Kiowa terminology for, 95; 302 INDEX

and messiah expectations, 91, 93, 95–96, 101–2, 118, 139; and missionaries, 106–16, 119–21, 125–28, 133, 135, 222; motivations for, suggested, 21–22; origins of, 89–90; Peyote use during, 94–95, 111, 115, 267n4; and prophets and prophesy, 89–90, 94–101, 103–5, 109–12, 125; at Rainy Mountain Creek, 97–100; as religion of resistance, 113; revival of, 103–16, 107; ritual bathing and body rubs after, 93; ritual greeting at, 93; R. Weston LaBarre on, 92, 104, 116, 138; sexual immorality at, 127–28, 143; significance of, 221–23; songs of, 96–97, 106, 138–40, 145, 247; as stepping stone toward Christianity, 223; surviving elements of, 24; and Ten Medicines bundles, 114, 126; as tourist attraction, 138; traditional activities during, 93; visions during, 99–100; whipping incident during, 265n77 The Ghost-Dance Religion and the Sioux Outbreak of 1890 (Mooney), 14, 24–25 ghosts, 239, 246– 48 ghost sickness (Bell’s Palsy), 247 Gift (Give-away) Dance, 119, 122, 124– 25, 128–29, 136, 140– 41 Gilbert, Gene, 212 giveaways and gift giving, 24, 119, 122, 124–25, 128–29, 140– 41, 144, 153, 236 Given, Frank, 24, 82, 122, 126, 137–38, 178 Given, Joshua, 50, 57, 59, 233–34, 281n2 Given, Julie (Odle-tay-die), 57 “giving the feather” ceremony, 92, 96, 101 Glowacki, Donna M., 119 gomtókya (dead people’s homes), 246 Goodnight, Charles, 10 Goomda (Wind), 130 Gotebo, 57, 243 Gouladdle, Joe, 181

Gourd Dance, 142, 219, 223, 237 Grant, Ulysses S., 11, 28 Gray, Dorothy Tsatoke, xiii, xxi, 139, 211– 12, 216, 219, 231, 232, 237–38, 246–58 Grinnell, Fordyce, 34 Gu/ekɔ, 71 Gwoompi, 138 Haitian Voodoo, 13–14 Half Moon ceremony, 25, 71–73, 170, 201 Hall, Harry (Zotigh), 126, 178 Hall, J. Lee, 26, 158 Hall, Lou, 106–9 Hand Game, 22, 24, 76–82, 77, 85, 93, 118, 142, 222 Hansson, Marian Kaulaity, 138 Harkin, Michael E., 18–21 Harrington, J. P., 168 Hauke, C. F., 123–24 Haumpy, 24, 27, 70, 79–80, 178, 276n61 Haury, Emma Ware, xxi, 243, 252 Haworth, J. M., 35 Hawzipta, Matthew, 181 Hayden bill (proposed), 163– 64 Hɔ·zepa, 71 Heap O’ Bears, 25, 92 Heenkey, 63 Herskovits, Melville: Acculturation, 13 Hicks, George W., 39, 53–57, 151 Hietala, Harold, 257 High Wolf, 95–96 Hittman, Michael, 25 Hobart Baptist Church, 210 Hog Creek Chapel, 210, 243 Hog Creek Methodist Church, 150–51, 153, 202–3, 252 Hokeah, Jack, 67 Ho’kíete, 70 Holy Family Church, 66 Horse, Albert, 30 horse and buffalo culture: and battlefield pledges, 242; collapse of, 5,

9–12, 88; and food sharing, 243; and Ghost Dance, 221, 224; and missionaries’ arrival, xvi; overview of, 1–3; and prayers to animistic beings, 253; and prophets and prophesy, 88, 224; and revitalization movements, 23– 24; unpublished fieldnotes on, xvii “Horse-eating” Sun Dance, 10 hospitality, 257–58 “Hot” Sun Dance, 10 Houk, James T., 14 Hrdlicka, Ales, 168 Hubbard, John, 36 Hultkrantz, Åke, 254 Humming Bird, 137 Humming Bird, Conklin, 137, 178, 192 Hunt, George (Set-maun-te), xviii, 24, 27, 63, 71–72, 82, 138, 160 Hunt, P. B., 35, 36–38 Hunting Horse: conversion of, to Christianity, 40, 229–30, 238; on Dædl, the Morning Star, 73; and Ghost Dance, xviii; at Ghost Dance “picnic” (1915), 132; and ghosts, 247; on Kiowa cosmography, 3; and Native American Church, xvii; on Peyote doctors, 178; and Peyote rite, xviii, 27; and polygyny, 238; and prophet movement, xviii; on Water Turtle, 81 Hunting Horse, Albert, 40 Hunting Horse, Cecil, 40 Hunting Horse, Nelly, 206 Huxley, Aldous: Doors of Perception, 185 Immanuel Baptist Church, 57–58, 264n63 incense: cedar, 72–73, 105–8, 107, 111, 117, 157, 173, 196, 198–99, 237, 247– 48; sage, 72–73, 157, 170, 196, 198 Indian Religious Crimes Code, xviii, 10 Indian Rights Association (IRA), 11–12, 120, 166 The Indian Sign Language (Clark), 59 INDEX 303

infant mortality, 228–29 Ingalls, Major, 36 In the Limelight (Methvin), 30 inward movements, 17 Iraq war, 252–53 Irwin, Lee, 225, 249 I-See-O, 86, 133, 271n95 Jerome Agreement of 1892, 113, 222, 281n2 Jesus: Chief Lone Wolf on, 65– 66; dɔdɔ in, 253; healing powers of, 235–36, 240; Kiowa beliefs about, 109– 10, 112, 115–16, 167, 197, 226–27; Kiowa hymns about, 139– 40; Kiowa prayers to, 230; Lavena Tongkeamha’s lifesaving dream about, 256–57; Little Robe on, 241; Lucius Aitson on, 61– 62; missionaries’ teachings about, 56–59; and outdoor gatherings, 258; and Peyote rite, 172; and pledges by Christian converts, 240– 41; as positive spirit force, 226; and promise of afterlife, 235–36, 240; Wovoka on, 103 “Jesus Eat” controversy, 238 Jesus road, 58–59, 128, 155–56, 218, 226–27, 238, 241 Jesus woman, 59, 228, 232 J. J. Methvin Memorial Methodist Church, 43, 205, 245, 253 Johnson, W. E. “Pussyfoot,” 160– 61, 166 Jones, Nellie, 138 Jones, William A., 62, 120 Julie Richardson Memorial Building, 213 Kaha G’odl (Crow’s Neck), 70 Kah-bole (Left Hand), 34 Kâ-itséñko “Real or Principal Dogs” Society, 87, 267n133 Ka-lo-mah, 57 Kaulaity, Melissa Tongkeamha, 216 304 INDEX

Kaulaity, Sallie, 182 Kaulay, Ira, 247 Kau ti ke ah (Big Joe), 122 Kau-tone-pah-hoodle, 194 KCA Indians, 2 KCA Reservation: early missionaries at, xvi, 28–29, 43–44, 47–53, 64, 225– 27; establishment of, 6–8; Ghost Dance at, 112; government and mission schools at, 67– 69; and Jerome Agreement’s opening for homesteading, 62, 66, 113, 222; location of, xv–xvii; number of schools at, 39; overcrowding at, 38; and Peyote rite, 70, 158–59; Sitting Bull’s encampment at, 96 Kɔk’de, 71 Keahbone, Edgar, 130, 137 Kehoe, Alice, 18 Kelley, Dennis F., 249 Ketcham, William H., 161 Kicking Bird, 6–7, 9, 30, 34, 60, 132 Kicking Bird II, 132 King, Frank L., 152 kinship terms, 2–3 Kintadl (Moth Woman), 24, 81, 246–47 Kiowa (Crawford), 30 Kiowa, Comanche, and Plains Apache (KCA) Reservation. See KCA Reservation Kiowa, Comanche, and Wichita Agency (Kiowa Agency), xvi, 8, 29, 38– 40, 51–53, 68, 121, 131, 223, 260n4, 265n79 Kiowa baptism customs, 49, 60, 65, 168, 198, 237–38, 244– 46 Kiowa Bill (Maun kee), 122, 129–30, 134, 137–38, 271n97 Kiowa Charley, 85, 164– 65 Kiowa-Comanche “outbreak,” 8, 34 Kiowa culture, nineteenth-century, 1–31; class system in, 2–3; cosmog-

raphy in, 3–4; and final years of freedom, 5–8; genocide of, 11–13; historic migrations of, 1–2; human powers in, 3; and revitalization movements, 13–23; sources of knowledge about, 23–31. See also Ghost Dance; horse and buffalo culture; Kiowa people; Peyote rite; Sun Dance Kiowa Five (or Six), 67 The Kiowa Indians (Corwin), 30 Kiowa people: current lands of, xv; disdain of missionaries by, 35; and ghosts, fear of, 239, 246– 48; hospitality of, 257–58; mourning customs of, 233–37; and out-migration of youth, 215–17; and owls, fear of, 239, 246– 48; participation of, in World War II, 181–82; rank and status among, 2–3; rights of, as citizens, 122–23; spirituality of, 249–58; work ethic of, 208–9. See also Kiowa culture, nineteenth century Kiowa School, 38, 51, 67– 68, 265n77 Kiowa Victory Club, 182 Kiowa Voices (Boyd), 105, 268n22 Klamath Earthlodge Cult and Dream Dance, 14 Kodaseet, Carlisle, 138 Kogaitadal (Lean Elk), 27, 122, 160 K’oGoiden (Elk Tongue), 71 Kohfeld, Henry, 64 Kokom, 62– 63 Kokome, Ernest, 26 Kokome, Stella, 26 Kokoom, Walter, 138 Kol-an-on-da-mah (Buffalo Hoof Prints), 244. See also Ananthy Komalty, 54, 56, 160 Ko nad (White Buffalo), 122 Kon-tah-mah (Mrs. Goomda), 57 K’ope-zsapol (mountain ogre), 249

Korean War, 277n2 Koshiway, Jonithan, 171 Kotay, Larry, 213 Kotay, Ralph, 153 Kroeber, Alfred L., 168 Kwahadas, 7 Kyąhikǫhi (Little Bow), 71 LaBarre, R. Weston: on baptism customs, 49; on bundle keepers, 4; documentation of Kiowa traditions by, xvii, 24–28; on Ghost Dance, 92, 104, 116, 138; on ghosts, 247; on J. J. Methvin’s lack of patience, 45– 46; The Peyote Cult, xvii, 28, 170–71; on Peyote rite, 25–28, 69–75, 157, 167– 68, 170–80, 185, 190–91, 199, 200, 254; on prophesy, 83; on revitalization movements, 19; and Senate Bill 1399, xvii, 28, 168 Ladies’ Missionary Society of Pittsburgh Presbytery, 51 Lake, Robert, 36 Lake Mohonk Conference of 1914, 162– 63 Lancaster, W. D., 54–55, 57 Lane, Franklin K., 134–35, 162 Larson, Henry A., 162– 63 Lassiter, Luke Eric, 256 Leavitt bill (proposed), 120 Lee, John R., 51 Lesser, Alexander, xvi–xvii, 79 Leupp, Francis E., 120 Levy, Jerrold, 187–89, 191, 200, 216 The Life and Adventures of a Quaker among the Indians (Battey), 30 Linton, Ralph, 14, 20 Little Bluff II, 43 Little Chief, Garfield, 213 Little Joe, 137, 140, 164 Littleman, Alice, xxi, 25, 116–17, 140, 213 Littleman, Winiford, 213 INDEX 305

“Little Peninsula” Sun Dance, 10 Little Red Church, 206 Little Robe, 125, 241– 42, 268n22 Little Washita Church, 48– 49 Lone Bear, 24, 27, 85–87, 178, 246, 276n61 Lone Wolf, xv, 33, 65– 66, 160 Lonewolf, Delos K., 129, 160, 165, 179 Lonewolf, Grace, 213 Lonewolf, Hazel, 154–55 Lone Wolf II, 54–56, 65 Lonewolf Methodist Chapel, 203 Lone Wolf Mission, 54–55 Lone Wolf Mission School, 55, 68 Lone Wolf v. Hitchcock (1903), 113 MacElhaney, Ioleta Hunt, xviii, 24 Mackenzie, Ranald S., 8 Mammedaty, Kim, 255 Maroukis, Thomas C., 69, 74, 156, 201 Marriott, Alice, xviii, 24, 82–83, 140– 44, 183, 238 Martinez, Andres (Andele), 41– 42, 45, 48, 107–9, 125, 151 Martinez, Emma, 107 Mary Gregory Memorial School, 50, 67– 69, 148–49 Maunkee, Lily, 138 Maus, Marion P., 109 Mausape, Conrad, 24 McAlister, Elizabeth, 253 McAllister, Gilbert, 185 McFate, Yale, 184–85 McIntosh, John, 36–37 McKenzie, George, 250 McKenzie, Little Hattie, 107 McLean, Mary, 60 McNally, Michael, 224 McNeill, Jamie, 250, 254–57 measles epidemic of 1892, 227–28 medicine bundles, xv, 4, 82–83, 169, 174 Medicine Lodge Treaty of 1867, xvii, 5, 7, 28, 33, 44 306 INDEX

medicine shields, 23. See also buffalo hide war shields Mennonites, 64 Merritt, E. B., 129, 131, 133–38 “Mescal” (Watermulder), 162 mescal bean, 25, 74, 158– 63 Mescalero Apache Peyote meetings, 69–70, 74, 157 messiah, expectations and beliefs about, 14–15, 91, 93, 95–96, 101–2, 118, 139 Methodists: and baptism, popularity of, 245–46; and Ghost Dance picnic, 132; and John Tsatoke, 242; missions and schools of, 37, 40–49, 64, 66; and pagan and heathen practices, 75; pledging commitment to, 239–40; in postallotment era, 148–50, 152–53, 155, 179–80; in twentieth century, 29–30, 237–38; after World War II, 190–91, 202–4, 206, 209–12, 217, 219 Methvin, J. J.: on 1892 measles outbreak, 227–28; at encampments, 212; and Ghost Dance, xviii, 102– 3; and Hunting Horse’s baptism, 230; Indian name for, 45; In the Limelight, 30; on Kiowa adoption of Christianity, 225–28; on Kiowa mourning customs, 233; as missionary and school superintendent, 36– 49; on Peyote rite, xviii, 158–59; and Peyotists, 179–80; on pledges by Christian converts, 239– 40; in postallotment era, 148–51; and shamanism, xviii Methvin Institute Boarding School, 44– 45, 48– 49, 67– 69, 106, 148–50 militant nationalism, 16 millenarian movements, 15 Miller, Fern Ahdokobo, xxi, 59, 190, 205–7, 251 mimesis, 20 miracles, 251–52

missionaries: anti-Peyote sentiments of, 28; and Christian syncretisms, 110, 166; and crying while praying, 230–33; early days of, at KCA Reservation, xvi, 28–29, 225–27; and encampments, 208–9, 212, 217, 243–44; and Ghost Dance, 106–16, 119–21, 125–28, 133, 135, 222; good works and sincerity of, 225–27, 230; as healers and consolers, 227–29, 240; and Kiowa mourning customs, 234–36; Kiowas’ disdain of, 35; and Peyote rite, 28, 156, 165– 66, 172, 180, 189, 223; and pledges to Christian religion, 239; in postallotment era, 148–50, 153–55, 165– 66, 172, 180; and revitalization movements, xvi, 19–20, 224; and syncretisms, 43, 110, 166; teachings of, about Jesus, 56–59; teachings of, against pagan and heathen practices, 76; after World War II, 189, 212, 217. See also missions and schools; specific missionaries missions and schools: Baptist, 53– 64; Catholic, 39, 64– 67; Episcopal, 37; Mennonite, 64; Methodist, 40– 49; Mormon, 36; overview of, 36– 40, 67– 69; Presbyterian, 39, 49–53, 52; proliferation of, between 1876 and 1887, 39–40; Quaker, 33–36; Reformed Church in America, 64. See also specific missions and schools Momaday, N. Scott, 231 Mooney, James: Calendar History of the Kiowa Indians, xvi, 26; death of, 166; documentation of Kiowa traditions by, xvi, 26; on Ghost Dance, 90–96, 99–104, 110, 112, 114, 118; The GhostDance Religion and the Sioux Outbreak of 1890, 14, 24–25; on Hand Game, 76, 78; and Isidore Ricklin, 67; on Peyote rite, 72, 159, 162– 66, 170, 183,

199–200; on Peyote Woman, 199– 200; on prophesy, 82–88 Moon Head, 93, 95, 115 Moorehouse, H. L., 54 Mopope, Clara, 191, 278n34 Mopope, George, 137, 151 Mopope, Stephen, 67, 142 Morgan, Thomas J., 10, 39, 50, 54, 65, 68 Mormons, 15, 36, 90, 110 Moth Woman (Kintadl), 24, 81, 246–47 Mount Scott Kiowa Methodist Church, 30, 48, 132, 150, 202–3, 239 Mount Scott school, 68, 150 mourning customs, 233–37 Murrow, J. S., 36, 54–56 Murrow, Kate Elliott, 54–55 Murrow, Reverend, 36 Myers, W. D., 10, 52–53, 67, 159 NAC. See Native American Church (NAC) Narcotic Drug Act of 1954 (Texas), 184–85 Nash, Phileo, 17 nationalism, 16 Native American Church (NAC): Alice Marriott’s defense of, xviii; and anti-Peyote campaign, 158– 69; baseball teams of, 214–15; and Christian converts, 154–56; and Christianity, 191; and Christian syncretisms, 18; establishment of, xvi, 165– 67, 169, 260n15; and Kiowa spirituality, 250; legal and cultural status of, current, 223–24; Native accounts of, xvii; in 1930s, 170– 72; in postallotment era, 154–56, 165– 67, 169, 170–72; as redemptive movement, 17; after World War II, 182–202. See also Peyote rite; Peyotism Native American Church of North America, 183 INDEX 307

Native American Church of the United States, 183 nativistic movements, 14–16, 20, 76, 109, 156 nativistic nationalism, 16 Navair, Antony, 36 Ndembu of Rhodesia, 13–14 Neconie, George, 181 Newton, Elise E., 161– 62 Nichols, Maury, 104 Noble, John, 50 Nocona, Peta, 70 Nye, Wilbur S., 81, 86 “Oak Creek” Sun Dance, 10 Oberly, John H., 52 Odlepaugh (Buffalo Bird), 63, 244 Odle-tay-die (Julie Given), 57 O-hel-toint, Charley (Buffalo), 122, 130 O-ho-mah or O-ho-ma Dance, 118, 120 O-ho-ma Society, 87, 119, 154, 219 oil boom wealth, 243 Oklahoma Constitutional Convention of 1907, 160 Oklahoma Indian Missionary Conference, 209–10 Old Woman’s Society, 251 “Omaha” Dance, 118 Omebo, 57 o·nbop (immersion baptism), 49 ondedɔ class, 2, 4 out-migration of youth, 215–17 owls, 239, 246– 48 Oyebi, Margaret, 244 Paddlety, David, 24, 27, 30, 71, 105– 6, 151, 181, 213, 217–18, 267n9 Paddlety, Victor, 213 Pá·gotógudl (Red Buffalo), 71, 85, 104, 116, 131, 137–38, 140 Pa-guadal or Pagudl, or Paguadalti (Red Buffalo), 104 308 INDEX

Pahkotoquodle (Lone Man), 160 Páigya. See Given, Frank Pa-iñgya, 71, 84–88, 103– 4 Palmer, Alice Tanedooah, 157–58, 192– 94, 197, 202, 250 Palmer, “Choctaw” Bill, 178, 191–92 Palmer, Dixon, 192 Palmer, Donna, 194–95 Palmer, Gus, Jr.: Telling Stories the Kiowa Way, 187 Palmer, Gus, Sr.: baptism of, as Catholic, 202; and Calendar History of the Kiowa Indians, xvi; cedar Peyote box of, 193, 199–200; death of, 201; on God’s presence everywhere, 253; and homily on melding of Kiowa and Christian cosmologies, 196–97; and Peyote rite, 157, 174, 176, 178, 182–83, 186–88, 191–95, 197–202, 224, 253; and prayer, 250; as Roadman, 183, 277n11; on Senate Select Committee on Indian Affairs testimony, 194–95; World War II service of, 192–93 Palmer, Lyndreth, 181, 192 Papedone or Papedome (Sitting in the Woods), 63 Parker, Cynthia Ann, 70 Parker, Quanah, 64, 70, 158– 60, 162, 216, 267n4 Pa′tadal (Poor Buffalo), 95, 103 Pa-tepte (Buffalo-Bull-Coming-Out), 82–86, 88. See also Dátekâñ (KeepsHis-Name-Always) Pa-tsonhi Shield, 199 Pauahty, Gina Ware, xxi, 43, 203–5, 279n57 Peah-mah (Mrs. Queton), 57 Peat-taw (Mrs. Sainko), 57 Pedrick, Laura, 42, 101 Pentecostal Church of God, 206 Pentecostalism, 205–7 Perkins, C. A., 55

Petrullo, Vicenzo: The Diabolic Root, 168– 69 Pewo, Lavena Tongkeamha, xxi, 154, 215–16, 247, 251–52, 256 Peyote: biology of, 25; diminishing supply of, 201; during Ghost Dance, use of, 94–95; Henrietta Tongkeamha on, 244; laws restricting and enabling use of, 184–87; natural range of, 183; origins of, and diffusion to Kiowas, 69–76; and Senate Bill 1399, xvii, 28, 168 The Peyote Cult (LaBarre), xvii, 28, 170–71 Peyote doctors, 74–75, 174–79, 187 Peyote rite: and alcohol and dangerous narcotics, 76; Christian syncretisms in, 42, 72–76, 156–57, 167–73, 180, 191, 198, 200; crying while praying during, 254; and cultural genocide, 12–13; description of, 25–28; as expressive movement, 17, 165, 223; and Gus Palmer Sr., 157, 174, 176, 178, 182–83, 186–88, 191– 95, 197–202, 224, 253; James Mooney on, 159, 162– 66, 170, 183, 199–200; as medicine, 74–75, 174–79; and missionaries, 28, 156, 165– 66, 172, 180, 189, 223; on national holidays, 172; in 1930s, 170–80; origins of, 25–26; pledged, 73, 157, 170; preservation beliefs in, 198– 99; and prophets and prophesy, 69–71, 74, 157; as redemptive movement, 165, 223; as revitalization movement, 17; Roadmen of, 26, 72–73, 170, 182–83, 191– 92, 201–2, 277n11; R. Weston LaBarre on, 25–28, 69–75, 157, 167– 68, 170–80, 185, 190– 91, 199, 200, 254; safeguarding of, 188– 89; sexual immorality at, 159, 164, 233; and shamans and shaman-

ism, 74; songs of, 201; and sorcery, 75; stereotypes about, 188; and Sun Dance, 86–88. See also Native American Church (NAC); Peyotism The Peyote Ritual (Tsatoke), xvii, 170–71 Peyote Road (documentary), 186 Peyote Woman, 199–200 Peyotism: campaign against, 158– 69; decline of interest in, among youth, 187–89; inclusiveness of, 201–2; in late reservation and early postallotment era, 156–58; late twentiethcentury status of, 223–24; multiple religious affiliations of, 179; and shamans and shamanism, 223; and Ten Medicines bundles, 71, 87, 173– 74; after World War II, 183–202. See also Native American Church (NAC); Peyote rite Pinezaddleby, David, 219 Pinezaddleby, Robert, 203, 219 Pitoma, xvii, 238 Plains Grass Dance and Hand Game, 14 pledges: battlefield, 242; by Christian converts, 71, 239– 44; of food for ceremonies and gatherings, 242–43; in Peyote rite, 73, 157, 170; of thanks by returning soldiers, 182 Polá, 178 polygyny, 10, 12, 113, 238 Poolaw, Henry, 130, 137 Poolaw, Joseph, 138 Poolaw, Ralph, 138, 215 Poor Buffalo (Pa′tadal), 56, 95, 227, 268n22 Porcupine Bear, 6 possession cults, 14 Post Oak Mission, 64 power, spiritual. See dɔdɔ (power) powwows, 138, 144, 156, 182, 187–91, 217–19, 237, 243, 250–52, 257. See also encampments INDEX 309

prayer: and crying, 230–33, 250, 254; and miracles, 251–52; power of, 250–54; to tornadoes, 252 prayer warriors, 252–53 Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, 49–51 Presbyterians, 39, 49–53, 237–38 Price, Hiram, xviii prophets and prophesy: in 1880s, 82– 88; failure of, to restore horse and buffalo culture, 88, 224; and Ghost Dance, 89–90, 94–101, 103–5, 109– 12, 125; and Peyote rite, 69–71, 74, 157; and revitalization movements, 13–15, 17, 22–24, 31, 221–22 Prucha, Francis Paul, 11–12 Public Law 95-341, 185 Quakers: as governors of Indian Office at KCA, 28; missions and schools of, 30, 33–36; and Peyote rite syncretisms, 157 Quoetone, Charles “Nick,” 25, 111, 190, 211, 219, 243 Quoetone, Guy, 25, 30, 40, 114, 132, 137, 206 Quoetone, Jimmy (Wolf Tail): and building of day school near Mount Scott Church, 150; as Christian convert, 30, 40; on Ghost Dance, xviii, 26, 95–99, 132; on ghosts, 246–47; and Kiowa mourning customs, 236; and Peyote rite, xviii, 27, 71; and prophet movement, xviii; and Sons of the Sun, 85–87; and Sun Dance, 24 Quoetone, Sandra, 211 raiding, 2, 5–9, 20, 70 Rainy Mountain Baptist Church, 210 Rainy Mountain Charley, 71–72 Rainy Mountain Creek Ghost Dance, 97–100 310 INDEX

Rainy Mountain Indian Boarding School, 55, 59, 68– 69 Rainy Mountain Mission, 151 rank and status, Kiowa, 2–3 Reaffirmation of Baptism Vows, 246 Red Buffalo, 71, 85, 104, 131, 137–38, 140 redemptive movements, 17, 165, 223 Redhorn, Jesse, 151 Red River War, 8, 34 Redstone Baptist Church, 151–52, 151, 153, 191, 202, 210, 212–13, 230, 254 Reeder, Dean, 215 Reeder, Rivers, 215 Reeside, Maryetta J., 55–57, 63 Reformed Church in America, 64 Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America, 31, 49, 51–53, 52 religion vs. spirituality, 249–50 Religious Crimes Code, xviii, 10 reservation encampments, 9 revitalization movement(s): causes of, 15–17; conditions for, 12–13; as cults of despair, 16; and cultural syncretisms, 13; definition of, xv; deprivation models of, xv, 15–19, 21–22; mimetic nature of, 20; and missionaries, xvi, 19–20, 224; negative outcomes of, 223; oppositional nature of, 20; other names for, 14; overview of, 13–23; Peyote rite as, 17; and prophets and prophesy, 13–15, 17, 22–24, 31, 221–22; resistance to colonialism of, xvi; and ritual violence, 20; sources on, 23–32; symbolic analysis of, 20–21; as transformative movements, 17; types of, 14–15 Richards, Jonathan, 34 Richardson, Jane, 2–3, 24, 26–27, 81, 86 Ricklin, Isidore, xvi, 65– 67, 111, 149 ritual violence, 20 Rivera, Nick, 206, 279n63

Rivera, Stella Tsatoke, 206, 251, 257, 279n63 Riverside Indian Boarding School, 46, 54, 68– 69 Roadmen, 26, 72–73, 170, 182–83, 191– 92, 201–2, 277n11 Roff, Ida A., 69 Russell, Evalu Ware, 218 Ryan, Bruce F., 13, 17 Ryan, Patrick, 65 Saddle Mountain, 9, 58– 63, 58, 95, 116, 226–28 Saddle Mountain Baptist Church, 30, 61– 63, 153–54, 202, 215–17, 217, 227, 235, 238–41, 244– 45 Saddle Mountain Cemetery, 225 Saddle Mountain Mission, 151 sage incense, 72–73, 157, 170, 196, 198 Sahmaunt, Luther, 40, 132, 150 Samone Chapel, 203 Sando, Joe, 249–50 Sankadota (Medicine Feather), xviii, 40, 70, 122, 160, 170 Sankadota, Howard, 40, 164 Sankadota, Jack, 164 Sankadota, May, 45 Sanko (Prickly Pear), 24, 27, 30, 49, 57, 87, 119, 174, 177–78 Santa Fe field school, xvii, 23–24 Satemotay (Bear Paw), 160 Satepeahtaw, Frederick, 138 Satoe, 57 Saumty, 138 Saumty, Rose, 138 schools. See missions and schools; specific schools Schultes, Richard Evans, xvii, 25, 27, 168, 170 Scott, Hugh Lennox, xvi, 95–96, 100– 103, 265n77, 267n4 Sebohon (Hat), 84

segregation, 204 self-mutilation, 233–36 Sells, Cato, 120, 122–24, 128–29, 131, 135–37, 166 Senate Bill 1399 (proposed), xvii, 28, 168 Senate Select Committee on Indian Affairs, 194–95 September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, 252 Set’aide (White Bear), 100, 244 Setapeto. See Afraid-of-Bears (Setapeto) Sét-k’opte, Paul (Mountain Bear), 179 Set-maun-te (Bear Paw). See Hunt, George (Set-maun-te) Shakers of Puget Sound, 14 shamans and shamanism: avoiding graves of, 246; and curses against Christian converts, 234, 281n2; from 1869 to 1906, 48, 74, 78–82; and Hand Game, 76–82; as healers and consolers, 177–78, 228–30; importance of, 94, 157; and Jerome Agreement, 222; and Kiowa mourning customs, 237; overview of, 4, 20–24; payment for, 175; and Peyote rite, 74; and Peyotism, 223; spiritual warfare of, 214 Shell, Charles, 160– 61 shields. See buffalo hide war shields Sia-tigh (Little George), 40 sign language, 40, 59, 65, 91, 110, 208 Silver Horn, 75, 126, 137–38, 140, 170 simple syncretisms, 14, 76, 133, 167, 180 Sisters of St. Francis, 65 Sitting Bull, 23, 90–91, 96–98, 101–3 skin offerings, 41 Slotkin, James, 15–18, 76, 191 Smith, Albert L., 185–86 Smith, Elna, 169 Smith, Hoke, 47 Smith, John Q., 34–35 Smoak, Gregory E., 21–22, 25, 94, 109– 10, 222 INDEX 311

Smohalla Religion of the Columbia River, 14 Smokey, Enoch, 27, 151 Smokey, Lois, 67 Sons of the Sun, 24, 85–87, 103, 223 sorcery, xv, xvii, 20, 22–23, 74–75, 80– 81, 157, 178, 223, 233–34 Spear, Thomas, 179, 230 spirit power. See dɔdɔ (power) spirituality: Kiowa, 249–58; Native, 225; vs. religion, 249–50 Spotted Horse, 63 Standing, A. J., 34 Standing, John, 206 status and rank, Kiowa, 2–3 Stecker, Ernest, xviii, 121–25, 128–31, 150, 161, 269n52, 270n58 Stewart, Omer, 69, 74, 95, 161, 179, 184 Stinchecum, Charles V., xviii, 128, 131–33, 135–38, 140, 162–63, 166, 183, 222, 236 St. Patrick’s Catholic Mission and School, 64– 69, 148–49, 202– 4, 279n55 Straight Dance, 142 Stumbling Bear, Andrew, xviii, 9, 24, 27, 56, 86, 96, 103, 229, 267n9 Stumblingbear, Richard G., 43, 182–83, 189–90, 208–10, 217, 243 Stumblingbear, Trina, 43, 189–90, 210, 243 Stumbling Bear, Virginia, 34, 40, 45 Sullivan, David, 152, 213 Sullivan, Ken, xxi, 210, 212–14, 217 Sun Boy, 70, 86 Sun Dance: Christian syncretisms in, 42; collapse of, 23–24; and cultural genocide, 12–13; of 1890, 86–87; final, 10; overview of, 4–5; and Peyote rite, 86–88; as precursor of Ghost Dance, 24; symbolism of, 253; Taimek’i as supreme authority of, 4

312 INDEX

Sun Dance bundle (Taime), 4–5, 23, 41– 42, 114, 126, 173 sun-worshippers, 41 Swan, Daniel C., 69, 186–87, 274n27 Swanson, Ida May, 45 symbolic analysis, 20–21 syncretic integration, 13 syncretisms: and baptism customs, 49, 244– 46; Christian, and missionaries, 43, 110, 166; Christian, in Ghost Dance, 89– 90, 110–12, 114–15, 133; Christian, in Native American Church, 18; Christian, in Peyote rite, 42, 72–76, 156–57, 167–73, 180, 191, 198, 200; Christian, in Sun Dance, 42; complex, 14, 180, 200; cultural, 13; definition of, xv; Hunting Horse’s conversion as example of, 229–30; Jay D. Edwards model of, 14; and Kiowa traditions in indiginized Christianity, 239– 49; simple, 14, 76, 133, 167, 180 Tahbone, George, 248 Tahbone, Margie, 248 Tah-bone-mah, 130 Tah-koi-mah (Mrs. Chal-an-aun), 57 Taime (Sun Dance bundle), 4–5, 23, 41– 42, 114, 126, 173 Taimek’i (Taime keeper), 4 Take-It-Out, Alice, 26 Tall Bull, 90 Tanedooah, Henry (Medicine Bird), 192–94, 236, 279n39 Ta ne tone or Tanetone (Eagle Tail), 122, 138, 268n22 Tanner, A. C., 48 T’ä/’pɔ, 71 Tatum, Lawrie, 36 Tavibo, 89

The Teachings of Don Juan (Castaneda), 185 T’ebodal, 86 Tehauno, Patsy Sankadota, 212, 255–56 Teller, Henry M., 10 Telling Stories the Kiowa Way (Palmer), 187 Tenadooah, Alice, 157, 202 Tenadooah, Betty Lou, 158 Tenadooah, Henry Oliver, 157 Tenadooah, Vivian, 158 Tene/bɔde or Tenebati (Bird Appearing), 104 Tenetende or Tenetendi (Eagle Heart), 104 Ten Medicines bundles (Zaidethali): and Christian conversions, 75; and Christian syncretisms, 42; description of, 4; and Ghost Dance, 114, 126; inheritance of, 23; Maurice Boyd on, 105; Old Man Apekaum on, 82, 84; ownership of, 4; and Peyotism, 71, 87, 173–74; and World War II soldiers, 182, 192 Ten Medicines keepers, 4, 98–99, 177– 79, 202 Tepdéa (Standing Beside the Sweathouse), 78 testimonials, spiritual: attributed to Christian influences, 71; by Bert Geikauma, 190– 91; at camp meetings, 231; by Domot, 228–32; by Donna Palmer, 195; and faith healing, 246; by Gus Palmer Sr., 194– 95, 197; health-related, 251; by Lucius Aitson, 61– 62; at Oklahoma Indian Missionary Conference (1844), 210–11; of personal relationships to God, 255–56, 258; in Peyote rite, 157; by Poor Buffalo, 226–27; at Saddle Mountain camp meeting, 235

Texas Dangerous Drug Act of 1953, 184–85 Texas Narcotic Drug Act of 1954, 184–85 Thornton, Russell, 112 Tofpi, Ned, 138 Tonakɔt (Water Turtle), 24, 75, 79–81, 84, 119 Tonemoh, 63 Tong ke ah bo, 122 Tongkeamah, Betty Tenadooah, 177 Tongkeamah, Clifton, 46, 140, 231, 237, 251–53, 282n45 Tongkeamha, Fannie, 252 Tongkeamha, Henrietta, 139– 40, 183, 215, 244, 264n65 Tongkeamha, Kiowa Jim, 137, 140, 154, 178 Tongkeamha, Raymond, xiii, xiv, xxi, 85–86, 144, 178, 214, 237, 244, 245 Tongkeamha, Weiser, 25, 111, 116, 118, 138, 144–45, 154, 187, 215, 236 Tongyei, 80 Ton-hone, 34 Topay, 64 tornadoes, 252 Toyebo, Lewis, 137 transformative movements, 17 Treat, Harry H., xviii, 125–27, 151 Tsatoke, Albert, 40, 211 Tsatoke, Cecil, 40, 211, 229 Tsatoke, John, xxi, 111, 138, 183, 190, 206, 211, 238, 242, 251 Tsatoke, Monroe, xvii, 24, 67, 170–72; The Peyote Ritual, xvii, 170–71 Tsoodle, Fred, 210, 248 Tsoodle, George, xviii, 141 Tsoodle, Henry (Packing Stone), 24– 25, 27, 70–71, 82–87, 104– 6, 172–73, 178, 183 Tsoodle, Oscar, 187 Tsoodle, Peggy, 248 Turner, Victor, 13–14

INDEX 313

Twelve Disciples of Peyote, 71–72, 157 Unap (Eoneah), 126 United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization, 12 Valentine, Robert G., 120–21, 161 Vaught, Mike, 219 Vaux, George, 162 Vietnam War, 277n2 vision quests, xv, 4, 187, 226 visions and dreams, 256–57 vitalistic movements, 15 Voodoo, Haitian, 13–14 Waldo, James, 122, 130, 160 Waldo, Jim, 27–28 Wallace, Anthony F. C., 14–15, 17–18 War Dance, 24, 29, 118, 129, 138, 140, 142, 144, 147, 222 Ware, Bill, 248 Ware, Gina. See Pauahty, Gina Ware Ware, Guy, 132, 151, 210 Ware, Harry, 132, 151, 203 Ware, James, 218 Ware, Lewis, 151 Ware, Linn, 151 Ware, Patricia, xxii, 151, 176, 211, 249, 252–53 Ware, Ted, 203, 205, 218, 279n57 Ware’s Chapel United Methodist Church, 29, 210, 216, 243 War Mothers of the Kiowa Tribe of Oklahoma, 181–82 war power, 4–5, 253 warrior society dances, 118, 217–18, 237 war shields. See buffalo hide war shields Washee, 90 Watermulder, George: “Mescal,” 162

314 INDEX

Water Turtle (Tonakɔt), 24, 75, 79–81, 84, 119 Water Turtle tipi, 79 Welsh, Herbert, 11–12 Wetselline Mission, 203 whirlwinds, 247– 48 Whitaker, Rachel, 210, 255 White, E. E., 38–39, 51, 158 White, Frank, 94, 115 White Buffalo, 130, 132, 138, 268n22 White Buffalo (Ahdongky), 122, 137 White Buffalo (Koitai), 104 White Buffalo (Konad), 116, 122, 137, 140, 268n22 White Church, 206 White Fox, Glen, xviii, 4, 27, 104, 116–18, 137, 178, 246 White Horse, 137–38 Whiteman, John, 137 Wichita Baptist School, 68 Wichita Industrial Boarding School, 34, 38, 67 Wicks, J. B., 37, 69 Williams, Andrew C., 36 Wilson, Jack. See Wovoka (The Cutter) Wilson, John. See Moon Head Wodziwob, 89 Woesner, Herbert, 215–16 Wohaw, Gilbert, 206 Woman’s Heart, 6 Women’s American Baptist Home Mission Society (WABHMS) Training School, 53–55, 57–58, 60, 215 Women’s Board of Missions of the Methodist Church South, 148, 150 Women’s Executive Committee of the Reformed Church in America, 64 Women’s Foreign Missionary Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 44 Women’s National Indian Association, 11

Wood, T. H., 150 work ethic, 208–9 World War II: American Indian participation in, 181–82, 192–93; and battlefield pledges, 242; Christianity after, 202–19; and pledges of thanks by returning soldiers, 182 Wovoka (The Cutter), 23, 89–91, 94–97, 101–3, 105 Wright, Frank H., 64

Yellow Wolf, 87, 174, 178 Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA), 11 youth ministries, 213–15 Zaidethali. See Ten Medicines bundles (Zaidethali) Zempadlte (Gnawing On a Bone), 70 Zotom, Paul (Chewed Driftwood), 37, 58

INDEX 315