Presently the braves and warriors made their appearance, and squatted
round the fire in two circles, those who had been engaged on the
expedition being in the first or smaller one. One medicine man sat
under the scalp-pole, having a drum between his knees, which he tapped
at intervals with his hand, eliciting from the instrument a hollow
monotonous sound. A bevy of women, shoulder to shoulder, then advanced
from the four sides of the square, and some shaking a rattle-drum in
time with their steps, commenced a jumping jerking dance, now lifting
one foot from the ground, and now rising with both, accompanying the
dance with a low chant, which swelled from a low whisper to the utmost
extent of their voices--now dying away, and again bursting into
vociferous measure. Thus they advanced to the centre and retreated to
their former positions; when six squaws, with their faces painted a
deadened black, made their appearance from the crowd, and, in a soft
and sweet measure, chanted a lament for the braves the nation had lost
in the late battle: but soon as they drew near the scalp-pole, their
melancholy note changed to the music (to them) of gratified revenge.
In a succession of jumps, raising the feet alternately but a little
distance from the ground, they made their way, through an interval
left in the circle of warriors, to the grim pole, and encircling it,
danced in perfect silence round it for a few moments. Then they burst
forth with an extemporary song, laudatory of the achievements of their
victorious braves. They addressed the scalps as "sisters," (to be
called a squaw is the greatest insult that can be offered to an
Indian,) and, spitting at them, upbraided them with their rashness in
leaving their lodges to seek for Yuta husbands; "that the Yuta
warriors and young men despised them, and chastised them for their
forwardness and presumption, bringing back their scalps to their own
women."
After sufficiently proving that they had any thing but lost the use of
their tongues, but possessed as fair a length of that formidable
weapon as any of their sex, they withdrew, and left the field in
undisputed possession of the men: who, accompanied by taps of the
drum, and the noise of many rattles, broke out into a war-song, in
which the valour of themselves was not hidden in a bushel, nor
modestly refused the light of day. After this came the more
interesting ceremony of a warrior "counting his coups."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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