Kiowa-Apache Medicine Man 
By 
J. GILBERT McALLISTER 





Drawing ofDiiveko, reproduced from The Calendar History of the Kiowa, by James Mooney, p. 250. 
BULLETIN 
OF THE TEXAS MEMORIAL MUSEU~I 
I 7 
NOVEMBER, 1970 
Kiowa-Apache Medicine Man 
BY 
J. Gilbert McAllister 
WITH A 
Summary of Kiowa-Apache History and Culture 
BY 
W.W. Newcomb, Jr. 
TEXAS ~IE~IORIAL ~IUSEU~{ I w. w. XEWCO~IH , JR ., DIRECTOR 24TH & TRl'.'OITY , AIJST11' , TEXAS I THE U1'!VERSITY OF TEXAS 

FOREWORD 

The editors of the Bulletin believe that the majority of technical and scientific papers submitted for publication potentially have a wide audience if technical jargon can be reduced or explained and necessary background information is supplied. The following paper contains little if any jargon but it does deal with an Indian people who are poorly known or unknown to all hut a relatively small handful of specialists. Consequently, a summary of Kiowa-Apache history and culture has been provided in hopes that it will enhance and enrich the accompanying paper. Opinions and points of view expressed in it are my own. 
J. Gilbert McAllister is Professor Emeritus of Anthropology at The Uni­versity of Texas, Austin. The field work on which his paper is based was conducted in 1933-34. 
W. W. Newcomb, Jr. 

CONTENTS 
Page 
A Summary of Kiowa-Apache History and Culture, by W.W. Newcomb, Jr. 1 
References Cited 25 
Daveko, Kiowa-Apache Medicine Man by J. Gilbert McAllister 
Introduction 31 

Acquiring Power .......................... ... ......... . 36 

Curing by Suction or Extraction .......................... . 39 

Curing Medicines ............. ........................ . . 47 

Divination ............................ .. ............ . 53 

Magical Powers, Sleight-of-hand ..................... ..... . 54 

The Geese Dance ........... . ......... . ................ . 58 

End of the Trail ............................... .... ... . 60 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Frontispiece: Drawing of Daveko, reproduced from The Calendar History of the Kiowa, by James Mooney, p. 250. 
Figure 	Page 
1. 	
Delegates to Washington, 1872. Peso or Pacer; Capitan. Courtesy Smithsonian Institution National Anthropological Archives ....... . ... . . . ...... 9, 10 

2. 	
Daha or Equestrian, delegate to Washington, 1872. Courtesy Smithsonian Institution National Anthropological Archives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 

3. 	
Gofikofi or Apache John, by John K. Hillers, 1894, Washington, D. C. Courtesy Smithsonian Institution National Anthropological Archives . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 

4. 	
Sonte (or Soontay), a delegate to Washington in 1898. Courtesy Smithsonian Institution National Anthropological Archives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 

5. 	
Kiowa-Apache dwellings: canvas tipi; summer arbor; first house built by government as it appeared in 1933-34. J. G. McAllister photos . . . . . . . . . . . . 18 

6. 	
Kiowa-Apache boys at swimming hole. 

J. G. McAllister photo, 1933-34 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21 

7. 	
Kiowa and Kiowa-Apache women playing stick game. J. G. McAllister photo, 1933-34 22 

8. 	
Tsayaditl-ti or White Man and Daveko, by James Mooney, 1893-94. Courtesy Smithsonian Institution National Anthro­pological Archives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 

9. 	
Apache Sam Klinekole; Joe Blackbear; Old Man Taho; Alonzo Chalepah. J. G. McAllister photos, 1933-34 ............. . ..... . 32,33 

10. 	
Big Ben Chaletsin. J. G. McAllister photo, 1933-34 ...... . .. . . . ............. . . 35 

11. 	
Apache Clarence; Jim White; Stewart 
Tahtseelnoe Klinekole; Allen Sonte. 


J. G. McAllister photos, 1933-34 .......... . .. . ..... . 40,41 


12. 	
Daveko's tipi .................................. . 46 


13. 	
Mrs. Big Man; Aurelia; Priscilla Blackbear; Apache Sam Klinekole . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48, 49 



A Summary of Kiowa-Apache History and Culture 
Descendants of the Apaches who survived the terrible assaults made upon their lands and persons by Spaniards, Indian enemies, and Americans over the last four centuries are concentrated today in southwestern United States. Our modern names for these varied peoples are Western Apache, Navajo, Chiricahua, Mescalero, Jicarilla, Lipan, and Kiowa-Apache. But in the six­teenth century when Apaches were first encountered by Spaniards, they oc­cupied a much greater extent of country and there were many more bands and divisions, though most of their names, if any, are lost beyond recall. 
Apaches are speakers of Athapaskan, a language family with a widespread distribution in western North America. There are three groups of Athapas­kan speakers, a northern one scattered throughout much of Canada west of Hudson Bay from the southern provinces into Alaska, a Pacific coastal group distributed from northern California into British Columbia, and the Southern Athapaskans, or Apaches. The Southern Athapaskans are further divided in terms of dialectic differences into a western and eastern division, the eastern dialect being spoken by the Jicarillas, Lipans, and Kiowa-Apaches (Hoijer, 1938). The distribution of Athapaskan-speaking peoples implies past migrations and/or marked contraction of their former range. Present evidence suggests that both implications are correct. Southern Athapaskans are recent migrants into the Southwest, and those in the plains occupied a much more extensive sweep of country (and consequently Athapaskan dis­tribution was probably much less disjunct) than was once supposed. The traditional anthropological viewpoint, based on Apache origin tales and the abandonment of a number of Puebloan settlements in the Southwest in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, has been that Apache raiders swept into the Southwest from their northern homeland in this period. But archeologi­cal and historical data now strongly suggest that Athapaskans did not begin their invasion of the Southwest until about A.D. 1525 (Gunnerson, 1956). 
After looting and subduing the Pueblos of New Mexico, Coronado led his expedition in the spring of 1541 into the plains in search of the fabled cities of Quivira. Several weeks after setting out from Pecos Pueblo, on the Llano Estacado of eastern New Mexico or the Texas Panhandle, the expedition en­countered a new and to the Spaniards a strange and fascinating people. They were Apaches, the first the Europeans had met, and known to Coronado as Querechos, a Puebloan term which is a designation for the Navajos or more broadly, Western Apaches (Hodge, 1910: 339; Harrington, 1940: 512; Gun­nerson, 1956: 347-352; Tunnell and Newcomb, 1969: 145-146). After leav­ing the Querechos the expedition met another Apache people, the Teyas, who lived as did the Querechos but were their enemies. Teya in the Pecos­Jemez dialect means "Lipanan" or Eastern Apache (Harrington, 1940: 512), so that it seems Coronado met representatives of both Southern Athapaskan divisons (but see Schroeder, 1959: 34-36 ). 
These Apaches were the only people Coronado met until, with their guid­ance, he reached the Wichita villages -Quivira -within the great bend of the Arkansas River in south-central Kansas (Wedel, 1959: 60-61 ). The Apaches knew this immense country intimately, found their way about it with confidence, and their culture was well adjusted to its demands. They were nomadic bison hunters who depended on this animal for the bulk of their food and utilized them for dwellings, clothing, and utensils. They fol­lowed the bison herds with the aid of dogs which transported their meager belongings. It was the ancestral cultural type from which the later horse-us­ing Plains cultures were descended, though paradoxically, by the nineteenth century few Apache tribes continued to pursue it. 
When the colonization of New Mexico was begun at the close of the six­teenth century the Spaniards again encountered Apaches. Vaquero supplant­ed Querecho and Teya as a generic term for Plains Apache, and the word Apache also came into use. It appears to be derived from a Zufii word "Apachu" meaning "enemies" (Hodge, 1907: 63; Bolton, 1916: 224-230; Hodge, Hammond and Rey, 1945: 302; Gunnerson, 1956: 353-354). But Spanish acquaintance with the various Apache groups in the plains hardly improved during much of the seventeenth century. Plains Apaches continued to come to the Pueblos in winter to trade meat, hides, and salt for corn and other Pueblo products, and from time to time Pueblo Indians fled to the plains to escape their Spanish oppressors. But the open sweep of the plains did not attract the Spaniards and its people remained little known. It must have been during the first half of this century too, that Apaches began to learn about and acquire horses, the wholesale adoption of which had far­reaching effects upon the Indian cultures of the plains. 
Before the century was over, in 1681 or 1682, the Frenchman, La Salle, while on the Mississippi, heard of Apaches and referred to them by their Pawnee name, Gattacka or Gataea (Margry, 1879: 201, 168). He said that the Gattacka and Manrhoat (Kiowas?) were allies of the Pawnees, lived to their south, and sold them horses which they apparently had stolen from the New Mexican Spaniards. La Salle went on to report that these tribes used horses in war, for the hunt, and to carry their belongings, but that they did not use them for farming and never gave them shelter or fodder. He ex­tolled their hardiness and capabilities, noting that one of these horses could carry the meat of two bison (Margry, 1879: 202). Mooney (Hodge, 1907: 701) equated the Gattacka with the Kiowa-Apaches, but it seems likely that the Pawnee designation refers to any Plains Apaches. 
The growing threat of the French and the increasing number of raids and attacks by Apaches on Spanish settlements and ranches made them much more conscious of these Indians. The old inclusive terms for Apaches were soon replaced by specific band designations: Cuartelejo, Carlana, Paloma, Jicarilla, Faraone, and others. These names were derived from localities which bands frequented, were those of band leaders, band peculiarities, or the like. Virtually all Apache bands were on the move in this period, lead­ers died and were replaced, and band composition and nature shifted rapid­ly as remnant bands joined forces and others were dispersed or fragmented, so that their names were not apt to have much continuity. Consequently it is often difficult to trace modern Apache groups back to their eighteenth cen­tury ancestors, and it is impossible to do so in the case of the Kiowa­Apaches. Their name for themselves is Na-e-ca (Na-aye-sha), meaning thieves (McAllister, 1949: 1 ). 
The Jicarilla-Lipan-Kiowa-Apache forerunners, who may be appropriate­ly termed Eastern or Plains Apaches, occupied a tremendous extent of coun­try stretching in the high plains from the Canadian River to the Black Hills. But with the invasion of the plains by Comanches in the early years of the eighteenth century and increased conflict with Pawnees, Wichitas, and other groups, the Plains Apaches were dispersed. Some, who were to become the Jicarillas of modern times, retreated into the Sangre de Christo Mountains of New Mexico and the protection of the Spaniards (Thomas, 1935: 4, 114, 124, 125). Others were driven deep into Texas to become the Lipans (Tun­nell and Newcomb, 1969: 146-149). Apparently it was at this time that one northerly band of Plains Apaches became separated from their relatives and later became known as the Kiowa-Apaches. 
The Plains Apaches from 1675 to their dispersal in 1725 are known arch­eologically as the Dismal River Aspect (Strong, 1932, 1935; Champe, 1946, 1949; Hill and Metcalf, 1942; Wedel, 1959; Gunnerson, 1960). Accord­ing to Gunnerson (1968: 169) " ... the Plains Apaches of ca. 1700 inhabit­ed essentially the area between the one hundredth meridian and the Rocky Mountains, from the Black Hills south to at least northern New Mexico." The Dismal River people were primarily hunters, but they also raised corn, beans, and squash, as the Jicarillas and Lipans continued to do into the nine­teenth century. The Dismal River people lived in small, semi-permanent vil­lages, probably while they were planting and tending their crops. Their dwel­lings in these villages were apparently similar to the forked-stick hogans of the Navajos (Gunnerson, 1968: 174). 
James Mooney, the first scholar to be concerned with the history of the Kiowa-Apaches, was forced by the lack of other evidence to rely on tribal tradition that they 
3 

did not emigrate from the S.W. into the plains country, but came with the Kiowa from the N.W. plains region where they lay the scene of their oldest traditions. It is probable that the Kiowa Apache, like the cognate Sarsi, have come down along the E. base of the Rocky mts. from the ~eat Athapascan bodx of the Mackenzie r. basin instead of along the chain of the sierras ... (Houge, 1907: 701). 
Brant (1949) has argued that on the basis of social structure, language, folklore, and other beliefs and customs, Kiowa-Apache origins "may lie with the Apache peoples of the Southwest" contrary to Mooney's view. Brant (1953) has demonstrated that the Kiowa-Apaches were culturally more like the Jicarillas and Lipans than the northern Sarsis, who were an Athapaskan-speaking Plains tribe of the north affiliated with the Blackfeet in the nineteenth century. But his contention that "the Plains traits in Kiowa Apache culture were superficial and probably recent accretions to the basic Apache substratum" is mistaken or misleading in terms of what is now known of Plains Apache history (Brant, 1953: 199; see also 1969: 1-2). When these Plains Apaches, presumably including the ancestors of the Kiowa-Apaches, emerge from the historic shadows, they were living in the plains, were culturally a pre-horse Plains people, and in fact, many of the basic and characteristic traits which typify the later Plains culture (bison subsistence, dog-horse transportation, travois, etc.) must have been derived from this Apache source, or from a general pre-horse Plains culture of which the Apaches were probably a typical example. Some, like the Jica­rillas, were drawn into the Southwest and their culture has come to reflect it, but others, including the Kiowa-Apaches, remained in the plains. By the last half of the nineteenth century, when information about Kiowa-Apache culture is relatively full, all aspects of their culture, including social struc­ture, folklore, and other beliefs and customs are emphatically those of a Plains tribe. 
The view that some or all of the Eastern Apaches were non-Plains people is derived from historic reconstructions based on mystical extrapolation from the psychology of twentieth century informants (Opler, 1936: 205; 1940: 6 ). It was logically suspect when proposed and as empirical his­toric facts have been uncovered, it has proved to be a grotesque distor­tion of the past. 
So far as is known, Kiowa-Apaches never raised corn or other crops, made pottery, or used roasting pits as did the people of the Dismal River Aspect. But if they had been horticulturalists they probably would have been forced to give up their gardens when they joined the nomadic, non-agricultural Kiowas. And even if they had remained independent, the adoption of horses, increase in warfare, and forced migrations would have minimized or caused them to abandon horticultural activities, as happened with the Lipans. Final­
ly, if horticulture was a protohistoric acquisition of Plains Apaches, bor­rowed from a plains source, as seems likely (Gunnerson, 1968: 170), it would also be probable that not all Plains Apaches had yet had the oppor­tunity to become agricultural before the great Apache dispersal of the eighteenth century. The Kiowa-Apaches may or may not have been horti­culturalists at some time in the past, but whichever the case, they were Plains Apaches sharing an essentially common history and origin with other East­ern Apaches. 
The date of Kiowa-Apache affiliation with the Kiowas is unknown. The Kiowas speak a language related to Tanoan, and the Tanoan speakers are all Puebloan (Harrington, 191 O; Sapir, 1949: 173 ). These sedentary agricultural­ists lived along the Rio Grande in New Mexico and were nearer to the plains and better acquainted with the plains and its peoples than other Puebloans. If it is assumed that the ancestral Kiowas split off from their Puebloan kin to take up life in the plains, they presumably had a good reason for doing so. Given the unsettled conditions among Puebloan peoples in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, which were partly attributable to long-lasting droughts, the possibility that drought-stricken farmers might become full­time hunters is an obvious one, particularly if they already hunted bison seasonally or were intimately acquainted with hunting peoples. 
Apparently the Kiowa-Apaches were always a small group with a popula­tion between 300 and 400 persons. It may be significant that Lipan Apache bands in the eighteenth century also were about this same size, suggesting that this may have been the usual size of Plains Apache bands (Tunnell and Newcomb, 1969: 150). Such size might be related to hunting practices, de­fensive necessity, availability of pasturage for horses near camps, limita­tions of Apache political mechanisms for controlling groups of people, or other factors. In the violent years of the eighteenth century small bands were a poor match against Comanche and other enemies, and the assump­tion is that the Kiowa-Apaches became affiliated with the Kiowas because of their numerical weakness (Hodge, 1907: 701; McAllister, 1937: 101). The affiliation or "social symbiosis" (McAllister, 1937: 101) between the two peoples was a curious one. 
During the time of the annual Kiowa Sun Dance, the Kiowa-Apache func­tioned as a "band" of the Kiowa, occupy_ing a fixed place on the north side of the camp circle. During this dance the Kiowa-Apache were said to be under the jurisdiction of the ~1owa chief who was !ea~er of the dance and owner of the Taime [a sacred ob1~ct ~xposed to pubhc v1~w only :it the S!J!' Dance]. This chief was obeyed 1mphc1tly, for he was said to be m a pos1t10n of un­questioned authority over both tribes from the announcement to the comple­tion of the dance. And violation of his orders was a violation of a ritual sanc­tion, and dire catastrophe would befall the offender (McAllister, 1937: 100). 
But while the Kiowa-Apaches were dependent upon and subordinate to the Kiowas on this ceremonial occasion, they were not at other times. Apart from possible joint war parties, the two tribes camped separately, conduct­ed their own hunts, and in general maintained their own identity. Neither learned the language of the other to any extent, and communication was mostly by sign language. There has been some intermarriage, and the Apach­es have borrowed some customs from the Kiowas, but the two peoples have remained distinct. The Kiowa-Apaches, as McAllister demonstrated, were not, as Mooney (1898: 248) alleged, "practically a part of the Kiowa in everything but language." 
Although the Spanish in the early years of the eighteenth century were able to apply more specific designations to the Apache bands in the plains with whom they were becoming better acquainted, the more distant French had such fleeting contacts with Apaches that they never distinguished vari­ous bands and were confused in their designations for Plains tribes. In 1739­40 Pierre Mallet, a trader and native of Montreal, with his brother and six others, crossed the plains in a southwesterly direction to Santa Fe (Margry, 1888: 455-462). Mallet found that the natives in control of the southern plains were "Laitane," a name for Comanches. On his return Mallet encoun­tered a people who were attempting to hunt without being discovered by the Comanches, whom he referred to as "Padoka." They were undoubtedly Apaches. Secoy (1951) has shown that after 1750 and the disappearance of most Apaches from the plains, the French used the term Paduca for Comanches. 
By the end of the eighteenth century most of the Plains Apaches had been exterminated or driven to the margins of the southern plains, the Kiowa­Apaches remaining to become with their Kiowa allies typical southern Plains Indians (Wissler, 1941: 17-20; Kroeber, 1947: 79-80). The Lewis and Clark expedition heard of but did not encounter the Kiowas and the Kiowa­Apaches (Catakas) while wintering with the Mandans on the Missouri in 1804-05. They were told that the Kiowas were then on the North Platte, and the "Cataka" to their north on the headwaters of the two forks of the Cheyenne River. The Kiowa-Apaches were said to number 75 warriors in a population of 300 (Lewis, 1805: 38; 1961: 30; Mooney, 1898: 166). How­ever, Jean Louis Berlandier, a Swiss-trained botanist who served as a mem­ber of a Mexican boundary and scientific expedition in Texas in 1828, dated the appearance of the Kiowa-Apaches on the southern plains to "the first five or six years of the 19th century" (Berlandier, 1969: 135). It is also pertinent to note that Berlandier referred to the Kiowa-Apaches· as "Plains Lipans or Lipans Llaneros": 
Like the other Lipans, they know the tradition that their ancestors, split by domestic dissention [sic], divided into two hands, one of them going south to become, no doubt, the people we know today as the South Lipans (ibid.) . 
The Kiowas and Comanches appear to have made peace with one another in about 1790 (Mooney, 1898: 162-164), and the Kiowas were friendly with the Wichita tribes, perhaps because the Wichitas were already allies of the Comanches. The alliance of these tribes enabled the Kiowas and their Apache associates to extend their raiding activities far to the south, even well into Mexico. The normal range of the Kiowas and Kiowa-Apaches, how­ever, lay to the north and northwest of most Comanche bands (Newcomb, 1961: 194-195). 
American traders visited the Kiowas and Kiowa-Apaches in the early years of the nineteenth century, but the government did not contact them until the Dragoon Expedition of 1834. As a result, a treaty was signed in 1837 at Fort Gibson by the Kiowas, Kiowa-Apaches, and the Tawakonis (a Wichita sub-tribe). It provided for peace, friendship, forgiveness of past wrongs, and resolution of future disputes that might occur between these tribes, eastern tribes, and United States citizens (Mooney, 1898: 170). Thus were the Kiowas and Kiowa-Apaches embraced by Americans, an embrace that soon was to become a suffocating stranglehold. In 1853 another treaty was negotiated by the United States at Fort Atkinson in Kansas with the Kiowas, their Apache confederates, and the Comanches. The United States wanted to ensure peace between its citizens and these Indians, particularly along the Santa Fe trail, and it also sought to end depredations into Mexico. The Indians conceded to the government the right to establish roads and military posts in their territory, in return for which they were to receive an annuity. But they would not agree to return Mexican captives or to halt fo­rays into Mexico. Texas had never been considered a part of the United States and this treaty did not alter this Indian attitude, and raids into Texas and Mexico continued. 
In 1854 the Kiowas and Kiowa-Apaches joined a number of other south­ern plains tribes in an attempt to wipe out the immigrant Indian tribes in eastern Kansas whom they blamed for the decrease in the bison herds. The expedition was a disaster as the 1,500 Plains warriors, armed mostly with bows and arrows, were defeated with great loss by a party of Sauk and Fox Indians numbering about 100, but equipped with rifles (Mooney, 1898: 174­175). With the decline in bison and the influx of Americans heading west­ward, particularly after the Pike's Peak gold rush in 1858, the problems of the Kiowas and Kiowa-Apaches mounted. They continued their raiding ac­tivities, but finally in August, 1865, at the mouth of the Little Arkansas (present Wichita, Kansas), the Kiowa, Comanche, and Apache tribes agreed to stop hostilities and meet in October to make a more permanent treaty. The October treaty detached the more peaceful Kiowa-Apaches from the bellicose Kiowas and Comanches and joined them to the Cheyennes and Arapahos, which tribes at this time relinquished their lands in southeast­ern Colorado for land in Kansas and Indian Territory. 
In 1867 a congressional commission was dispatched to treat with the Plains tribes in order to stop the raiding and warfare which was slowing white settlement. As a result, the southern Plains tribes signed treaties with the government. The Kiowa-Apaches were reunited with the Kiowas at their request, and along with the Comanches were assigned a reserva­tion "bounded on the east by the ninety-eighth meridian, on the south and west by Red river and its North-fork, and on the north by the Washita from the ninety-eighth meridian up to a point 30 miles by river from Fort Cobb, and thence by a line due west to the North fork" (Mooney, 1898: 184-185). The treaty superseded all previous agreements; it provided for peace, good will, the end of opposition to construction of railroads, roads, and military posts, and for these concessions the three tribes were to be provided an agency, schools, blacksmith, a suit of clothing for each Indian every year, and $25,000 worth of goods annually for thirty years, their nature being left to the government. It signaled the capitulation of these tribes as independent nations, though their literal defeat and confinement was still a few agonized years away. 
In 1872 another commission was sent from Washington to deal with the troublesome southern Plains tribes, this time not to treat with them as in­dependent nations, but to warn them as dependent and subordinate wards that continued hostilities would be severely punished (Mooney, 1898: 190). In order to impress on the Indians the tremendous superiority of the United States, a delegation from the various tribes was recruited to go to Washing­ton. Three Kiowa-Apaches, Pacer, Daha, and Gray-eagle were among those who made the journey. Perhaps the Kiowa-Apache contingent was impressed since, unlike many Kiowas and Comanches, they did not resume hostilities. During the Outbreak of 1874-1875, for example, all but a very few Kiowa­Apaches remained on the reservation (Mooney, 1898: 199-214). Deprived of weapons and horses, the bison all but exterminated, surrounded by the over­powering white world, their numbers thinned and thinned again by epi­demics of measles, whooping cough, and other diseases, the subjugation of the Kiowa-Apaches had been achieved though not concluded. 
In the fall of 1892 a government commission visited the Kiowas, Kiowa­Apaches, and Comanches to induce them to accept individual land allot­ments, thus creating "surplus" lands which would be thrown open for sale to whites. By pressure, chicanery, and apparently fraud, the commission 
Courtesy Smithsonian Institution National Anthropological Archives 
Fig. 1 (a). Peso or Pacer, delegate to Washington in 1872 
9 
Courtesy Smithsonian Institution National Anthropological Archives 
Fig. 1 (b). Capitan, delegate to Washington in 1872 
10 
Courtesy Smithsonian Institution National Anthropological Archives 
Fig. 2. Daha or Equestrian, delegate to Washington, 1872 
11 
was able to get such an agreement. It was repudiated by the three tribes as soon as they learned of its contents, and the tribes sent a delegation to Wash­ington to protest. But it was in vain; the reservation was broken up. Between 1901 and 1903 each Kiowa-Apache was allotted 160 acres of land, and in 1908 another allotment was made for all those born after 1903. One hun­dred fifty Kiowa-Apache allotments were made in all, scattered from the Washita River south to the Red River (Mooney, 1898: 224-226; Brant, 1969: 16). The white world, in short, was not content to defeat, impoverish, and confine the Kiowa-Apaches; it also deprived them of much of the land it had so recently "given" them. The individual allotment system was os­tensibly a means of transforming Indians into self-supporting farmers and ranchers, little different than their white neighbors, but in actuality it con­tributed to the further degradation and deprivation of a ruined people. 
They responded to their subjugation much as have other peoples who have found themselves in desperate, untenable situations which they were power­less to change. They turned to the messianic, revivalistic Ghost Dance re­ligion which was then being enthusiastically embraced by many Indian tribes. The Ghost Dance religion had been originated by Wovoka, a Paiute Indian, who during an eclipse had fallen asleep or perhaps had had some sort of seizure during which he claimed to have been transported to the other world where he talked with God. On subsequent occasions he had other visionary experiences. W ovoka was given a dance with instructions that it was to be performed at intervals over a five-day period. By its per­formance the time would be hastened when the white men would disap­pear and all Indians, living and dead, would "be reunited upon a regenerat­ed earth, to live a life of aboriginal happiness, forever free from death, dis­ease, and misery" (Mooney, 1896: 777). The Ghost Dance spread to the Kiowas and Kiowa-Apaches in 1890, but after a Kiowa had visited the mes­siah and reported that he was an ordinary Indian, enthusiasm for the new cult waned. But Ghost Dances were held sporadically until about 1910 (Mooney, 1898: 221-222). 
Even before the bitter disillusionment of the Ghost Dance, in about 1875 or 1880, the peyote cult spread to the Kiowa-Apaches. Peyote is a spine­less, carrot-shaped, grayish-green cactus, which when eaten induces various mild hallucinations, including colorful visions. The cult centers around the eating of peyote in an all-night ceremony, ordinarily held in a tipi. As it is frequently congenial to old but disintegrating or discarded beliefs and practices, peyotism has great appeal to many North American Indians. As an Indian religion it is a continuing rejection of the alien white world, and it also serves to bring together and unite Indians of many tribes in a com­mon pan-Indian movement (La Barre, 1938: lll; Brant, 1950: 213; New­comb, 1955.) 
The Kiowa-Apaches are concentrated today in two southwestern Okla­homa communities, one a few miles west of Fort Cobb, the other about six miles west of Apache. Most people live in ancient wooden houses, built by the government soon after the individual allotments were made in the early years of the century. Scantily furnished by contemporary stan­dards, in 1949-50 none of their houses had running water and only a few had electricity. (These passages concerning contemporary life are drawn primarily from Brant, 1969). Most households have vegetable gardens, but only a few of the wealthier families are farmers or ranchers. Most Kiowa­Apaches have no regular occupation, their income being derived from leas­ing their allotted lands to whites. A few persons have substantial incomes from oil royalties, but most receive only a few hundred dollars a year. With an increasing population and fractionalized land holdings, individual income from the land can only decrease. The ancient tradition of sharing and the obligations of many close and viable kinship ties serve to blunt dis­tinctions in wealth. 
Political structures were never well developed and the Kiowa-Apaches do not have a recognized chief or leader. They elect two representatives who meet with the representatives of the Kiowa and Comanche tribes in an inter­tribal council. The Apache council members are elected to four-year terms, but as the council can only suggest and recommend to the Indian Service, it is weak and virtually powerless. The combined tribes have a very consider­able claims case pending before the Indian Claims Commission, but it has not been settled (as of April, 1970). 
Kiowa-Apaches attend the white secondary schools in their vicinity, which are geared to white students and white society; Indian parents evince but slight interest in the schools. The result is irregular attendance and general­ly mediocre academic performance. Poor sanitation, inadequate diet, and poor health practices result in high mortality rates and much chronic and other illness. The old shamanistic curing rites are only dim memories to a few older people, but many have a "deep-rooted faith in the curative pow­ers of peyote" (Brant, 1950: 219). The Indians can use the clinics and hos­pitals the Indian Service maintains, but they are far away, have a poor repu­tation, and are crowded, so that they are reluctant to go to them. 
The old religious beliefs and practices have been abandoned, and peyotism (chartered in Oklahoma as the Native American Church) claims more fol­lowers than other religious institutions. The Methodist Church is the most popular Christian church, and many peyotists attend its services. Some Kiowa-Apaches attend the Baptist Church, but unlike the Methodist Church, it is not tolerant of peyotists. 
13 

Courtesy Smithsonian Institution National Anthropological Archives 
Fig. 3. Goiikoii or Apache John, by John K. Hillers, 1894, Washington, D. C. 
14 
In the winter of 1959-60 the Manatidie, one of the old dancing societies, was revived in order to promote a feeling of tribal identity. The last dance of the society had been performed about 1909, although there was a brief revival after World War I, so that the modern revival has had to depend in considerable part upon McAllister's (1937) description of it. It has, accord­ing to Bittle (1962), functioned as it did in the old days as an integrating, unifying force. As it did traditionally, it has also aided the needy and ce­mented family social ties. 
As Brant concludes (1969: 36 ), the Kiowa-Apache situation 
is not a happy or promising one. It is of a people between two cultural worlds, the old on_e irretrievably gone and to a lar~e extent forgotten, the new one foreign and little understood, engulfing them, involving them, but not truly embracing them and being meanmgfully embraced by them. 
Although Mooney (1898: 245-253) was the first anthropologist to be con­cerned with Kiowa-Apache culture, his sketch is brief and peripheral to his Kiowa investigation. It remained for McAllister (1937, 1949, 1965) and subsequent investigators (Brant, 1949, 1950, 1964, 1969; Opler and Bittle, 1961; Bittle, 1962) to provide a relatively full picture of their society and culture as it was before Anglo-American civilization overran it. McAllister's description (1937: 101) relates to a "period vividly recalled by the oldest men of the tribe, approximately 1860-80" and other investigators general­ly also employ this same "ethnographic present." Kiowa-Apache culture was by this time, of course, considerably changed from what it had been some three centuries earlier. But in some basic ways it remained much as it must have been_ Subsistence was still based on bison, but the addition of horses had tremendously increased their efficiency as hunters, both in lo­cating the herds and in dispatching the animals. "Before its introduction, these Indians were much less nomadic. Their only domestic animal had been the dog, which was used chiefly as a beast of burden, either carry­ing loads on its back or hauling a travois, on which was lashed a small tipi or a baby" (McAllister, 1937: 102). Bison were hunted by groups of mount­ed men, controlled by "police" who were members of the dancing soci­eties, the Manatidie and Klintidie (McAllister, 1937: 166). There is little specific information on hunt techniques, although it is presumed that like Kiowas, the "surround" was a favored technique for hunting bison, and that bison herds were also driven over cliffs and perhaps impounded. Elk, deer, antelope, and smaller animals also were hunted. Corn was obtained by barter or theft, and an assortment of wild fruits, nuts, and various roots and tubers filled out their diet. 
Tipis were covered with tanned bison hides and were erected and dis­
Courtesy Smithsonian Institution National Anthropological Archives 
Fig. 4. Sonte (or Soontay), a delegate to Washington in 1898 
16 
mantled by the women. Tipi size probably increased with the advent of horses, but data is lacking. Material culture was relatively meager and much use was made of animal products. "Their receptacles were made of wood, horn, or hides. A prepared buffalo intestine served as a water bag. Clothes, moccasins, robes, blankets, and the tipi were all made from hides, usually buffalo or buckskin" (McAllister, 1937: 102). 
With every person related in one way or another to everyone else and few in numbers, the Kiowa-Apaches constituted a tightly knit social group. The basic social unit was the kustcae, an extended domestic family which "con­sisted of a group of relatives who lived in several tipis which were located close together, but who did not as a rule eat together. The members of this group were bound by indissoluble bonds of kinship, based in part on matri­local residence" (McAllister, 1937: 165). Each nuclear family of parents and children, often to which were added other relatives, occupied a single tipi. Several kustcae camped together for better protection against enemies, and this larger group was known as a gonka. These camps varied considerably in size, depending upon the success and popularity of their leaders. In the late spring all Kiowa-Apaches camped together as a band in a fixed place on the north side of the camp circle of the Kiowas for the Sun Dance. Following this annual ceremonial event the Kiowa-Apaches split up into the gonka groups. Their composition was shifting, but congenial kustcae tended to camp together year after year. The similarity of the gonka to the "ranch­erias" described by Spaniards in the eighteenth century for the Lipans and other Plains Apaches is great and probably refers to the same kind of group­ing (Tunnell and Newcomb, 1969: 150). 
Kiowa-Apache kinship structure was of the Matri-Hawaiian type (Mur­dock, 1949: 228-229), that is, all of a person's cousins were "brothers" and "sisters." The term for "father" was extended to his brothers and to mother's sister's husband, or to put it another way, to those people whom "father" called "brother." (See McAllister, 1937, for a definitive discus­sion of kinship.) The term for "mother" was extended to mother's sisters and to father's brother's wife (or to those persons whom "mother" termed "sister"). There was one term for those persons whom "father" called "sis­ter," and one term for those persons whom "mother" called "brother." A man's children and his brother's children were classified similarly and distinguished from a sister's children, for whom a man employed a single term. Grandparents and their classificatory siblings and grandchildren and their classificatory siblings were lumped together under the same term. In short, "the whole tribe was bound into one large kinship unit, and however distant or even fictitious these ties may have been, they were, nevertheless, very real to the Kiowa-Apache (McAllister, 1937: 165). 
17 
J. G. McAllister 
]. G. McAllister 
Fig. 5. Kiowa-Apache dwel­lings: canvas tipi (top); sum­mer arbor (center); first house built by government, as it ap­peared in 1933-34 (bottom). 
J. G. McAllister 
Commonly, men went to live in their wives' camps after marriage, but there was no hard and fast rule requiring it. Sororal polygyny was known but not common, and should a wife die, marriage to her sister was desirable. Similarly, when a man died his brother was expected to take care of the wid­ow and if possible, marry her. The most desirable marriages were arranged by families, the parents choosing spouses for their children. A boy's parents usually initiated advances, and as a girl's older brother played an authori­tarian role over her, his assent to the union was also necessary. Should the marriage be agreed upon by both families, the groom's family collected many gifts and their acceptance by the bride's family, usually at a feast held for the entire camp, validated the marriage. The bride's family soon recipro­cated with gifts for the groom's family, at which time there was another feast (McAllister, 1937: 146). Marriage also occurred by elopement and more temporary alliances were known. Marriages within the immediate kin group, real and fictitious, were regarded as incestuous, and marriage to dis­tantly related Kiowa-Apaches was preferred. 
Cutting across the closely knit kin groups were four, roughly age-graded societies which further served to unify and integrate Kiowa-Apache society. Every child belonged to the Rabbit Society, or Kasowe, and as soon as he was able, took part in its activities. "Since it included every child, boy or girl, and influenced them during the formative years until they became young men and women and were either initiated into another group or be­cause of age and size took a less active part, it was one of the most impor­tant social forces in Kiowa-Apache life" (McAllister, 1937: 139). Meetings of the society were held as a consequence of pledges made by parents who were concerned about a child's health or future welfare. The custodian of a medicine bundle associated with the Rabbit Society conducted the meeting, which consisted of his prayers for the child for whom the meeting was being held, followed by dancing in which the children imitated rabbits, and final­ly a feast. An older boy was selected as the "bull," and equipped with whip and knife, forced participation of the children. During the dancing and feast­ing there was considerable horseplay and occasional obscenity. 
Although it was an honor to belong to the two adult male societies, the Manatidie and the Klintidie, men attempted to avoid membership since "the duties were irksome, the dances were long and arduous, and one had to be brave, which was 'dangerous' " (ibid., 150). The Manatidie had four staff-bearers or chiefs, two bacaye, and a "bull." The chiefs directed the so­ciety, chose new members, gave orders to the bacaye, set dates for dances, and had to be particularly brave in battle. The bacaye caught new members for the society, and performed various chores during meetings. The "bull" was the dance leader and superviser. There were between 20 and 50 mem­
19 

hers, ordinarily an even number since members were paired. Partners sat to­gether, painted themselves alike, their children were considered to be broth­ers and sisters, they danced and fought together, and they aided one another in many ways. Meetings were ordinarily held before raiding parties departed; the only fixed meeting was an annual spring dance during which the four ceremonial staffs of the chiefs were rewrapped. Used in battle and handled with much ritual care, these staffs were passed on to brave and prestigious successors who were preferably brothers, sons, or grandsons of the owners. Consequently, the four chieftainships passed down in certain families, though inheritance was apt to be by classificatory brothers, sons, and grand­sons rather than by lineal descendants. Besides their role as brave warriors, the Manatidie enforced tribal rules during communal hunts, aided poor people, and served as police when camps were moved. 
The Klintidie society was composed of the oldest and bravest men of whom there were usually from 10 to 16. Members were paired, and since men in this age bracket were married, wives attended meetings. There appear to have been four leaders who were distinguished by the trailing bands they wore. Members wore headdresses of split owl feathers, sometimes a bunch of owl feathers tied at the shoulder -owls being regarded as mysterious, sacred creatures. They also carried a deer-hoof rattle, and an eagle bone whistle at their meetings. Meetings were compulsory for members though irregular and lasted from one to four days. It was a "contrary" society -they charged when ordered to retreat, continued on when others were ordered to stop, and so on. If in battle other Kiowa-Apaches retreated, members of the Klin­tidie had to charge, and in general they were expected to be exceptionally brave. "Those wearing the trailing bands would 'plant' themselves at a dan­gerous spot by sticking an arrow through the end of the band. Only another person could release them by pulling out the arrow and telling them to 'stay there'" (ibid., pp. 154-155). The Klintidie was also much more of a religious grouping than was the Manatidie. 
There was also a woman's society, the Izu we, and as it was a secret organi­zation little is known about it. It may have been similar to the "Old Women" society of the Kiowas "to which young men prayed for success before going on an expedition. Perhaps it was a means of encouraging men to do brave deeds and of giving them a feeling of confidence because of the ritual sanc­tion" (McAllister, 1937: 166-167). 
Kiowa-Apaches were not as concerned with the exact nature of the super­natural world as they were with how to deal with it. "Like a laboratory scientist who becomes absorbed in his experiments, they had little time to speculate about the supernatural or life hereafter. The Kiowa-Apache were pre-eminently practical and empirical. They were not theologians or much 
J. G. McAllister, 1933-34 
Fi.g. 6. Kiowa-Apache boys at swimming hole 
given to philosophizing" (McAllister, 1965: 214). They did, however, con­ceive of a deity who had created the earth, and its plants and animals, as well as Fire Boy and Water Boy, the twin culture heroes of Kiowa-Apache mythology (McAllister, 1949: 30-44 ). These twins managed to kill various enemies, making the world safe for man. But "there was no well-ordered hierarchy of supernatural forces or beings, no systemized authoritarian power which ordered the universe" (McAllister, 1965: 214). Supernatural power was everywhere, and it might reside in or endow any object or thing. Kiowa-Apache religion was individualized in the sense that men personally acquired supernatural power from animals, plants, or natural forces. Men might actively seek visions in order to acquire supernatural power, isolating themselves for four days, but often power was obtained -or bestowed -in a dream without being sought (McAllister, 1965: 221; Brant, 1969: 4). The manner in which Daveko acquired power (see pp. 36-39) seems to be fairly 
21 
Photo by]. G. McAllister, 1933-34 Fig. 7. Kiowa and Kiowa-Apache women playing stick game 
typical. Supernatural power was, of course, highly potent and dangerous, though essentially neutral. It might he employed for good or evil, and witch­craft was known, as is illustrated by the reputation of Daveko. In addition to the taboos and restrictions men received in visions, they were also given personal "medicine." Such medicine was carried in a small leather bag in which were "feathers, teeth, claws, dried bird or animal skins, or any other object revealed as helpful to the owner in his dream. A man rarely went to war or engaged in any serious undertaking without appealing to one or more of these medicines" (McAllister, 1965: 211). 
Men who became successful shamans or acquired considerable wealth or prestige might pass their powers and medicine bundles on to their relatives. As a result, some medicine bundles came to be associated with families and bands rather than with individuals. "It was a constant source of protection and aid for the group. It was believed that a family should be near the owner of one of these bundles so that in illness or disputes he could be consulted" (McAllister, 1965: 211). Although no Kiowa-Apache medicine bundle at­tained quite the status of tribal symbol or palladium that they did among many Plains tribes, the Kiowa-Apaches had three bundles in early times, and a fourth later, which served all the people. These were the Rock Child, Cre­ator, and Four Quartz Rocks bundles, the latter being split into two bundles in recent times. Each of the bundles was opened once every year, and its spe­cial ceremony was held at this time. Regarded with awe, surrounded with taboos, and kept in special tipis, these fetishes were central to Kiowa­Apache religion. They gave people such a feeling of security that none want­ed to be far from a bundle for any length of time, and it was for this reason that the Four Quartz Rocks Bundle had been divided. Bundle owners func­tioned much like priests in that people came to them with requests to pray for their health or other things, bringing presents which were left with the bundle for four days, after which they became the property of the bundle owner. The tipi of the bundle owner was also a sanctuary to which people, guilty of adultery or other indiscretions, could flee. Bundle owners served as intermediaries between the aggrieved parties or their families, arranging for presents to placate wronged individuals and inducing them to smoke the pipe, after which they could no longer pursue their grievances. 
In sum, the Kiowa-Apaches were a small tribe, a band really, of Plains Apaches who, after becoming separated from their relatives, associated them­selves with the larger Kiowa tribe. They had been bison hunters before ob­taining horses, and after they acquired these animals a nomadic, hunting existence was even more rewarding. By the nineteenth century they had added to this nomadic, hunting culture a number of traits -dancing soci­eties, the Sun Dance, and others -which are generally regarded as typical of the nineteenth century Plains culture area. 
Anglo-American civilization overwhelmed Kiowa-Apache culture by the end of the nineteenth century, and Daveko, the subject of the following paper, lived during the Kiowa-Apache's twilight hours. Seventy years later this shattered culture manages to linger on, its members immersed in the white world, dominated by it, yet not wholly of it. Hopefully, the story that is Daveko's will preserve something of a time and a way that is forever gone. 
W. W. Newcomb, Jr. 
References Cited 
Berlandier, Jean Louis 1969 The Indians of Texas in 1830. Edited and Introduced by John 
C. Ewers. Washington, D. C. Bittle, William E. 1954 The Peyote Ritual of the Kiowa Apache. Oklahoma A nthropologi­cal Society, Bulletin II, pp. 69-78. 1962 The Manatidie: A Focus for Kiowa Apache Tribal Identity. Plains Anthropologist, Vol. 7: 152-163. Bolton, Herbert E. 1916 Spanish Explorations in the Southwest, 1542-1706. New York. Brant, Charles S. 1949 The Cultural Position of the Kiowa-Apache. Southwestern Jour­nal of Anthropology, Vol. 5 (1): 56-61. 1950 Peyotism Among the Kiowa-Apache and Neighboring Tribes. Southwestern Journal of Anthropology, Vol. 6: 212-222. 1953 Kiowa Apache Culture History: Some Further Observations. Southwestern Journal of Anthropology, Vol. 9: 195-202. 1964 White Contact and Cultural Disintegration Among the Kiowa Apache. Plains Anthropologist, Vol. 9: 8-13. 1969 Jim Whitewolf, the Life of a Kiowa Apache Indian. New York. Champe, J. L. 
1946 	Ash Hollow Cave, A Study of Stratigraphic Sequences in the Cen­tral Great Plains. University of Nebraska Studies, New Series, No. 
1. Lincoln. 1949 White Cat Village. American Antiquity, Vol. 14, No. 4 : 285-292. Gunnerson, Dolores A. 1956 The Southern Athabascans: Their Arrival in the Southwest. El Palacio, Vol. 63: 346-365. Gunnerson, James H. 
1960 	An Introduction to Plains Apache Archeology -the Dismal River Aspect. Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 173, pp. 131­
260. Washington. 1968 Plains Apache Archeology: A Review. Plains Anthropologist, Vol. 
13: 167-189; Harrington, J. P. . 1910 On Phonetic and Lexical Resemblances between K1owan and Tan­
oan. American Anthropologist, Vol. 12: 119-123. 1940 Southern Peripheral Athapaskawan Origins, Divisions and Migra­
25 

tions. In Essays in Historical Anthropology of North America. Swanton Anniversary Volume, Smithsonian Miscellaneous Collec­tions, Vol. 100: 503-532. 
Hill, A. T. and George Metcalf 1942 A Site of the Dismal River Aspect in Chase County, Nebraska. Nebraska History, Vol. 22, No. 2. Lincoln. 
Hodge, Frederick Webb (ed.) 1907, 1910 Handbook of American Indians North of Mexico. Bureau of 
American Ethnology, Bulletin 30, Parts I and II. Washington. Hodge, F. W., G. P. Hammond, and A. Rey 1945 Fray Alonso de Benavides' Revised Memorial of 1634. Albu­querque. Hoijer, Harry 1938 The Southern Athapaskan Languages. American Anthropolo­gist. Vol. 40: 75-87. Kroeber, A. L. 1947 Cultural and Natural Areas of Native North America. Berkeley and Los Angeles. La Barre, Weston 1938 The Peyote Cult. Yale University Publications in Anthropolo­gy, No. 19. Lewis, Meriwether 1805 Message from the President of the United States, communicating discoveries made in exploring the Missouri, Red river and Washita, 
by Captains Lewis and Clark, Doctor Sibley and Mr. Dunbar, with a Statistical account of the Countries adjacent. Washington. 
1961 	The Lewis and Clark Expedition. (The 1814 edition, unabridged, in three volumes, introduction by Archibald Hanna.) Philadelphia and New York. 
Margry, Pierre 1879, , 1888 Decouverts et Etablissements des Francais dans L 'ouest et dans 
le sud et L'Amerique Septentrionale, Vols. 2 and 6. Paris. McAllister, J. Gilbert 
1937 	Kiowa-Apache Social Organization. In Social Anthropology of North American Tribes, pp. 99-169. Edited by Fred Eggan. Uni­versity of Chicago Press. Chicago. 
1949 	Kiowa-Apache Tales. In The Sky is My Tipi, pp. 1-141. Edited by Mody C. Boatright. Publications of the Texas Folklore Soci­ety, Number XXII. 
26 

1965 The Four Quartz Rocks Medicine Bundle of the Kiowa-Apache. Ethnology, Vol. 4: 210-224. Mooney, James 1896 The Ghost Dance Religion and the Sioux Outbreak of 1890. Four­teenth Annual Report of the Bureau ofAmerican Ethnology. Part 
II. Washington. 1898 Calendar History of the Kiowa Indians. Seventeenth Annual Re­port of the Bureau of American Ethnology. Washington. Murdock, George P. 1949 Social Structure. New York. Newcomb, W. W., Jr. 1955 A Note on Cherokee-Delaware Pan Indianism. American Anthro­pologist, Vol. 57: 1041-1045. 1961 The Indians of Texas from Prehistoric to Modem Times. Austin. Opler, Morris E. 1936 The Kinship Systems of the Southern Athabaskan-speaking Tribes. American Anthropologist, Vol. 38: 620-633. 1940 Myths and Legends of the Lipan Apache Indians. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society, Vol. 36. Opler, M. E. and W. E. Bittle 1961 The Death Practices and Eschatology of the Kiowa-Apache. South­western Journal ofAnthropology, Vol. 17: 383-394. Sapir, Edward 1949 Selected Writings. Berkeley. Schroeder, Albert H. 1959 The Apaches and Their Neighbors, Part I. A Study of the Apache Indians. Santa Fe. Secoy, Frank R. 1951 The Identity of the "Paduca"; an Ethnohistorical Analysis. Ameri­can Anthropologist, Vol. 53: 525-542. Strong, W. D. 
1932. 	An Archeological Reconnaissance in the Missouri Valley. Explora­tions and Field-work of the Smithsonian Institution in 1931. 
Pp. 151-158. Washington. 1935 An Introduction to Nebraska Archeology. Smithsonian Miscel­laneous Collections, Vol. 93, No. 10. Washington. Thomas, A. B. 1935 After Coronado. Norman. Tunnell, Curtis D. and W. W. Newcomb, Jr. 1969 A Lipan Apache Mission, San Lorenzo de la Santa Cruz, 1762­1771. Bulletin 14, Texas Memorial Museum. Austin. 
Wedel, Waldo R. 1959 An Introduction to Kansas Archeology. Bureau of American Eth­nology, Bulletin 174. Washington. Wissler, Clark 1941 North American Indians of the Plains. Handbook Series No. 1(3rd edition), American Museum of Natural History. New York. 
DAVEKO, KIOWA-APACHE MEDICINE MAN 
by 
J. Gilbert McAllister 
Courtesy Smithsonian Institution National Anthropological Archives 
Fig. 8. Tsayaditl-ti or White Man (left) and Daveko (right), by James Mooney, 1893-94. 
DAVEKO, KIOWA-APACHE MEDICINE MAN 

Introduction. The Kiowa-Apache have seldom been mentioned in mono­graphs on other tribes. Even less often is a particular individual Kiowa­Apache named. But during the nineteenth century there was such a man, by name Daveko, whose reputation spread far beyond the confines of his small tribe. In his Calendar History of the Kiowa, James Mooney (1898) not only mentions him but also includes a full page sketch of him (frontis­piece). During the winter of 1881-1882, the most significant event was ap­parently the hand game between the Kiowas and Kiowa-Apaches since on the Set-t'an calendar, which was the basis for the Mooney study, the winter is depicted by two figures confronting each other in an antagonistic attitude. These figures represent Pa-tepte, the Kiowa leader, and Daveko, the Kiowa­Apache medicine man. Mooney (1896: 347-348) says of this date: 
"Winter when they played the do-0 medicine game." This winter is noted for a great do-a game played under the auspices of two rival leaders, each of whom claimed to have the most powerful "medicine" for the game. The game was played in the winter camp on the Washita near the mouth of Hog Creek, the Kiowa leader being Pa-tepte, "Buffalo-bull-coming-out," alias Datekan, while his opponent was the Apache chief and medicine-man Dliveko. 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. His Apache rival , Daveko, is known as a medicine-man as well as a chief and is held in considerable dread, as it is believed that he can kill by shooting invisible darts from a distance into the body of an enemy. On this occasion he had boasted that his medicine was superior for the do-a game, which did not prove to be the case, however; and as the Kiowa medicine-man won the victory for his party, large stakes were wagered on the result and were won by the Kiowa. It is said that this was a part of Pa-tepte's effort to revive the old customs and amusements on a large scale. The game was witnessed by a large concourse, all dressed and painted for the occasion. The picture on the Set-t'an calendar is very sug­gestive. (See cover illustration for a reproduction of this calendar figure.) 
It is probably because of this contest that Daveko became known to the Kiowas as Hand-Game-Medicine-Man. 
The Kiowa-Apaches, for obvious reasons, do not remember this game; but they do recall many of Daveko's phenomenal accomplishments. All remem­ber him as having powerful medicine and as a man to be feared. One infor­mant said that people were afraid of him because he would "shoot" them in order to get the fees for curing them. One gets the impression that Daveko may have cultivated an evil reputation in order to capitalize on curing charges. The most vocal of his admiring followers was his stepson, Apache 

Fig. 9 (a). Apache Sam Klinekole 
Photos by]. G. McAllister, 1933-34 

Fig. 9 (b). Joe Blackbear 
Fig. 9 {c). Old Man Taha 
Fig. 9 {d). Alonzo Chalepah 
33 
Sam Klinekole, who was about 75 years old in 1933-34 when he talked about his stepfather. Though Sam knew of Daveko's reputed power to kill people, he became incensed and defensive at the suggestion that Daveko used his powers for evil purposes. Sam's attitude was one of admiration for his "Daddy." Yet Sam was apparently very different from his stepfather. Where Daveko was feared and frequently avoided, Sam was respected and loved. People liked to be around him, especially children. He had a sense of humor; he was mischievous; he delighted in teasing. One felt at ease and re­laxed with him, yet he commanded respect and was an authority among his people. Most of these characteristics seemed to be in contrast with those of Daveko. Yet Sam had great love and admiration for his stepfather. He felt Daveko had been misunderstood by most people and frequently talked about him. 
Big Ben Chaletsin, another Kiowa-Apache but not related to Daveko, also spoke favorably of him, saying, "Daveko was suspected of e di't'in (shoot­ing medicine), but this is not proven. I lived with him and I do not know that he shot any person, but people believed he did." Others only heard that he was supposed to have killed by "witching" or "shooting." If he had such power, nothing was learned of his use of it, for Sam did not speak of it. 
Daveko is thought to have cured many Apaches as well as other people of other tribes by using his several powers, which included diagnosing, divina­tion, the use of herbs, and relying on other supernatural powers given through dreams for curing. He was especially adept at sucking out "shots" from people who had been witched. 
One other type of power recognized by the Kiowa-Apaches, but which Daveko did not have, was that given to the men who inherited the group or tribal medicine bundles, which were the sacred symbols of the tribe's reli­gious beliefs. The word used for these men was usually translated as "priest," whereas "one who cures," "one who uses magic," "one who shoots," "one who sucks," was a medicine man. Usually a man with priestly power also had curing powers of one or more kinds, but it is doubtful that he ever had pow­er to "shoot" or kill. Conversely, one who had evil medicine powers prob­ably never inherited one of the group or tribal bundles. Except in this one instance of shooting or killing, the two powers (the one priestly and the other shamanistic) usually merged imperceptibly. 
This points up another contrast between Sam and Daveko. Sam had in­herited from his father's brother one of the two Four Quartz Rocks Medi­cine Bundles. This was a worship bundle and as its keeper, Sam functioned as a priest (for the history, nature, and origin tale concerning the Four Quartz Rocks bundles, see McAllister, 1965). 
Sam frequently assisted Daveko, and most of his accounts are personal 
]. G. McAllister, 1933-34 
Fig. 10. Big Ben Chaletsin 
recollections. He believed in Daveko's power. He saw him make ice in an isolated tipi on the plains on a hot day. A skeptic can pass off most accounts as legerdemain, a common practice among Plains medicine men. But ice! Hail secreted some way? This is suggested by Sam, who said ice was like hail. Yet Sam never questioned his stepfather's abilities. This was not the sort of thing he teased and joked about. He was not pulling the leg of a gul­lible ethnologist. This was serious business. Old Man Taho, Big Ben Chalet­sin, Joe Blackhear, Apache Clarence Tsetaddle, Capitan Kosope, Alonzo Chalepah, all Kiowa-Apaches who were in close association with Daveko, vouched for his power. 
Sam's reminiscences, which were given at various times during an eleven­month research period in 1933-34, form the bulk of the following material. Though substantially edited, an attempt has been made to keep the short sentences, the statement as if it were fact, and some of the repetition, with the hope of retaining some of the flavor of Sam's (and others') descrip­tions and narrations. 
A Plains characteristic that appears in the various episodes is the boast­ful arrogance of the men. This was especially true among the medicine men, where each praised himself and deprecated the abilities of others. There was none of this namby-pamby inferior-me stuff. This aggressive pattern appears in almost every account given of Daveko. He always cured when everyone else had failed, not only among the Kiowa-Apaches, but among the Kiowas, Caddos, and Comanches. 
James Mooney (1898: 347) refers to Daveko as a chief as well as a medi­cine man; but according to the Kiowa-Apaches, Daveko was never con­sidered a head chief. He was an important subchief at the time White Man was chief. Only four head chiefs are remembered: Apache John was the last; before him, White Man, who succeeded Peso or Pacer, who died in 1875; and the earliest they remember, Babinpaw. Daveko was probably the most important medicine man among the Kiowa-Apaches during the last half of the nineteenth century. 
Acquiring Power. Daveko was born about 1818, for he was said to have been around eighty at the time of his death in 1897 or 1898. Nothing is known of his earliest years. 
When he was a young man he became ill. His neck became swollen and he began to choke. His father was a medicine man and he knew what to do. He said, "Son, can you breathe satisfactorily?" "Yes," Daveko said. "Then, since you are able to travel, you had better go to the mountains and perhaps something will take pity on you and your throat will heal. Don't be afraid. Something may try to bluff you, but tough it out. If you cry they will have pity on you sooner. Never think about drinking or eating; just pray." The family got white clay and put it over Daveko's body. He mounted a horse behind his brother who took him to the foot of the mountains. Daveko climbed the mountain and his brother rode home. When Daveko got near the mountaintop he took his clothes, wrapped them up and hung them on a tree limb. He took with him only his pipe and buffalo hide for a blanket. He was naked. He had no food or water. He gathered sage to sit on. 
The first night he cried. He heard nothing. The second night he .filled his pipe and smoked. He held his pipe up in the air and prayed to something to take pity on him. It was as if he were talking to somebody. "You all know that I have trouble with my throat. Have pity on me so I can get well." After he finished smoking he wore himself out crying. Maybe he went to sleep. About midnight he heard something. It was a big rattlesnake and he could hear its rattle. He could hear the snake breathing; it was like wind blowing on his face. Daveko never moved but lay stone-still. The snake crawled around to the back of his neck. He could feel his hairs move on the nape of his neck, but he never moved. Toward morning he sat up and filled his pipe to smoke and pray. He felt his throat. There was only a little pain left. He prayed to the sun that morning. He filled his pipe and held it up to the sun. He prayed to get well. He inhaled the smoke and found he could no longer feel the pain. 
The third night after the sun set he lay down. He heard a noise coming toward him, as if someone were dragging a stiff dried buffalo hide. Though it was making a loud noise, he could hear what he thought was an owl talk­ing to him. He could almost understand what was being said. Maybe it was an owl trying to frighten him; but he lay still, not moving a muscle. The noise diminished. The owl seemed to turn into a man, and he told Daveko to look at him. Daveko did, but he only saw a pile of human bones. When he looked again the man was there and the bones were gone. Then the owl re­treated and the noise stopped. It was quiet. Daveko got up and filled his pipe and prayed again, saying, "I'm a poor young man; I'm lying out here; I've been suffering; I want you to take pity on me. I want you to cure my suffering. That is why I came here." 
The fourth night some medicine, something, like rattlesnake, like owl, like little whirlwinds, came toward him, causing the ground to tremble like an earthquake. Daveko was shaking too. Just before daylight he filled his pipe again, praying, "I want to be well, strong, and rid of sickness." Some­thing came up to him and had pity on him. Daveko could not recognize it. It was like the approach of a great storm; rains were coming, and there was a great black cloud with a tail touching the ground. This was the small, soft turtle with the long tail that took pity on him. When you picked it up, it was limp like a rag, but it really was a turtle. He must have slept, for when he awoke at dawn, he felt cured. His throat was healed and there was no more pain. 
Daveko started home. He got to his clothes and put them on. He hiked back to his tipi. He told his wife to get cedar and put in the fire to make a good smell. He rubbed himself all over with the smoke. He said, "I am well now. I am not afraid." He was afraid of one thing only: having arrows point­ed at him, but he did not tell anybody. 
In this manner Daveko acquired his powers. He apparently did not search specifically for power; he wanted only to be well, but he seems to have been 
37 

a receptive vessel in which mystic power could manifest itself. Power was thrust upon him. Snake, owl, and turtle took pity on him, and from them or through them came his supernatural power. Thereafter he wore the rattles of a rattlesnake tied to his scalp lock. Perhaps sun and whirlwind also may have contributed to his abilities. Turtle and black cloud were apparently also associated with thunder, eagle, and arrows and seemed to be part of his com­plex of power, but which was not and probably could not be clearly defined. 
Though the acquisition of power occurred early in Daveko's life, it was a long time before the Apaches knew about him. He was a good medicine man long before he became recognized. His relatives were the first to see that he was different. They first noticed that he seemed to have unusual luck at hunting. 
He had acquired his hunting power from thunder through Thunder Bird, who appeared like the eagle with arrows on the white man's dollar. This spirit told him, "Don't let anyone point an arrow at you or pull a bow string in your direction. That is dangerous for you. It will kill you, and an iron spike will come out of your mouth." He was told to make four blunt arrows and to paint them white with a straight knife-line down each, colored red. He was not to use these arrows for four years. 
After this time had passed, he went out alone to try his power. He got on a pony and went hunting. He came to a creek and saw a lot of deer in the distance. He looked at the biggest one and shot it. It started to run and then jumped. He had hit it. He brought home the deer and the arrow with the blood on it to show his wife. When she saw the deer she said, "I thought you went without a gun?" "Yes," he told her, "but I killed the deer with this arrow." He showed it to her. "This is the one. I killed it with this." She could hardly believe him. He said to her, "You come and watch me and see how I do it. We will bring home a buffalo or deer." They got on the pony and went 'way out on the plains. When they saw some deer off at a great dis­tance, he told his wife to wait. There were no trees so that he could not sneak up on them. He went down to the creek, and pretty soon she saw a deer fall. Then another. She went to them, and arrows were sticking in their sides. She told her son Sam that she saw this with her own eyes. Many Apaches could not kill anything, even with good guns, but Daveko never missed with his arrows. When he went hunting he did not chase down the buffalo on a horse as the others did. He would sneak around and kill them at a distance. 
One day he said to his brother, "Let's go hunting. You watch me." When they got 'way out, they saw some deer. They got off their horses a long dis­tance from them. Daveko was using a bow and arrow, though everyone else had changed to guns. From a long distance he shot at the deer and killed two. His brother spread the news of how he had killed the deer with plain arrows. He was not even using iron spikes as heads. The Apaches began talking about him, wondering how he could kill at such distances, and with only a bow and blunt arrows. This was how Daveko's powers gradually be­came known to the Kiowa-Apaches. 
Curing by Suction and Extraction. It was some time before the Kiowa­Apaches realized that Daveko was also good at curing. One of his first cases occurred when a Kiowa-Apache got sick and hired three doctors: Taha, Bad Arms, and Noble Starr's father. There were three horses tied outside the tipi and goods piled up inside to pay the men. Daveko followed them into the tipi and watched them doctor. He saw a mole by the door moving dirt. Every time the mole came out, the man got dizzy. Daveko caught on. He knew from the mole that someone had witched the man. When the mole went away, the man got better and they all left. 
Daveko went back to his tipi and said to his folks, "I know about that man. When the mole starts from the door and throws up dirt, the man gets dizzy. Somebody has witched him. I could cure that man easily if they gave me the goods in payment." A relative of the sick man was listening at Dii.r veko's tipi and heard what he said. He ran back to his people and said, "Daveko knows all about it." The others said, "All right, let's get him. May­be he knows something." They got a pipe and filled it and took it to Daveko's tipi, saying, "Well, we got the news. We heard what you said. You know about our relative's sickness. You say you can cure him. Here is the pipe; we will smoke and then you cure him. We want him well." Daveko said, "I know about it. I know who did it. I'm ready. I'll come. IfI cure him, you will have to give me the horses and goods you have for the others." "That is good. We want you to cure him," the sick man's relatives said. 
Diiveko went to the patient's tipi. The three doctors were sitting there. Daveko sat on the west side and watched. He looked around the door to see if the mole came out. The mole started to work, making the dirt move. The sick man got rigid. Diiveko jumped up and took his eagle wing and pressed it on top of the man's head. He took the wing away and where he had touched him with the feathers he sucked. He took something out; it was a mole's claws. The man sat up and gave a big sigh. One of the doctors in there said, "Well, I didn't know you were a good doctor." Daveko spoke to them, "You failed, so I'm going to take all the payment." These men were good, but Daveko was better. He took all the goods and the horses. 
When this man who was sick killed a buffalo and got blood on himself while butchering it, he became sick again. He was allergic to blood. Daveko doctored him again by removing mole claws from his head. Daveko said, "Somebody has witched him." At this time the Apaches were all together 
39 



Photos by ]. G. McAllister, 1933-34 Fig. 11 (b). Jim White 


Ci' 
Fig. 11 (d). Allen Sonte (or Soontay) 41 
in a village. Soon they scattered out, the man who was sick moving in one direction and Daveko in another. When this man killed another buffalo and in butchering got blood on himself, he again became ill. They did not know where to find Daveko and the man died. Even so, Daveko got credit for knowing about the man's sickness and his fame as a doctor began to spread. 
The Kiowa-Apaches were camping near the Washita River. One young man was so sick they thought he was going to die. His father was ready to kill himself if his son died. Friends fixed the safety catch on the gun, for the old man did not know a gun could be kept from firing. The young man was nice looking but everyone knew he was very low. A man was doctoring, but the young man was getting worse. They asked Daveko to take over, offering to pay him three horses, a stallion, a mare, and a colt. 
The young man was breathing heavily and had a rattle in his throat. He did not move. The drum already tied, Daveko took over. He took a black 
handkerchief and looked over the young man (ye nat i or ye yi nat ~ "looking over it," translated at two different times by an older and younger man as "x-ray"). Daveko saw that there was nothing wrong with him, no physical illness. He had been witched. Maybe it was owl (K' le' da k3 hi, "one that travels at night") that had done it. Daveko first sang his medicine song. Then his stepson, Sam, who was assisting him, sang. All Daveko's fol­lowers knew his songs. When they sang it became foggy over the man who was sick. There was something in him. Daveko put his mouth in the region of the man's navel and sucked out a piece of tough skin, as tough as that from a man's heel. The young man had not moved, but after Daveko took that out the young man stirred. They sang again and the sick man wanted to be raised up. It was after sundown and getting dark. Daveko's stepson, the in­formant Sam, was giving up. They had been singing all day and he was tired. He went to bed. After he left, the sick man sat up and asked for water. They gave him a drink. Daveko sang a Klintidie song. The sick man was sitting up and his friends were feeling good, so they all sang. All over the camp they were saying that he was getting well. The next morning he was up and walk­ing around in the tipi. 
It was during a winter that some Kiowas were camped west of Hatchet­ville, near Ft. Cobb. A Kiowa came for Daveko, who took his stepson to sing for him while doctoring. White Man, another Kiowa-Apache, was liv­ing near the Kiowa. He came to help Daveko and Sam doctor. The sick man was lying down with a robe (for burial) already under him. He was very thin. His color had changed and his eyes were sunken. Some of his women rela­tives had already cut themselves. His wife tore up his medicine, for he was a medicine man. She got mad, thinking he was going to die and his medicine did not help him. "How long has this man been sick? " Daveko asked. "Sev­en days. I will give you the best gray horse I have, and a bay, for your doctor bill," she told him. There was a lot of goods piled up too. The sick man's brother and other relatives were in the tipi. Daveko told them to get ready; to clean up the tipi and to stretch the drum. Sam started to sing. It was a song given to Daveko by the snake. The words told about the geese flying back and forth. Daveko put a little water in his mouth and blew it over the sick man. This was what the turtle taught him to do. He doctored all after­noon. The sun went down. 
Supper was cooked and eaten in another tipi. Daveko spoke to White Man and Sam, saying, "He is going to get well. Tonight I'm going to try my best to cure him. We are going to doctor until morning." The Kiowas did not understand him, so in sign language he said, "Don't give up; everybody help this man; he is pretty sick." After eating they went back to the sick man's tipi. Sam and White Man sang. The Kiowas caught on to the songs and helped sing. Then Daveko prayed while smoking. The man's wife and bro­ther said to Daveko, "Try your best with your powers." Daveko began act­ing strange, as if in a trance. He put his mouth right below the sick man's mouth. The man did not move. He seemed dead. Daveko was sucking out something, and when it came out the man turned his head. It was his own medicine. He got tangled up in it and witched himself. Daveko tried again and the man moved his arm, as if he was going to get hold of something. Daveko said, "I took out the thing that got him. Maybe tonight he will re­gain consciousness." 
After midnight, the woman spoke out, "If you want to eat I'll cook some­thing else." She was feeling encouraged. "That is good," Daveko said. When everything was ready in the other tipi they went to it to eat. A few Kiowas stayed with the sick man. After awhile a Kiowa came over to where they were eating and said that the sick man wanted a drink of water. That made everyone feel good and they hurried to finish eating. Daveko said, "Eat enough, take your time. He will get well." They washed their hands and went back to the sick man's tipi. Daveko asked, "How did he drink? Plenty? " "Yes, he drank plenty and looked around." They sang again. Daveko worked over the man again. Then he stopped for awhile. "Let us smoke now," he said. When they finished smoking the man asked some­one to help him sit up. His wife sat back of him and he leaned on her. The man called for more water; he was asking, "Who is that man doctoring me? " They told him it was Daveko. "Oh, that's my brother," he said. 
Daveko doctored four days and the man got well. The fourth and last day they went after the horses. They brought the gray and the bay. Daveko's folks came for him to take him back to Anadarko. Some Kiowa said to the 
43 

man who had been sick, "How do you feel? How are you getting along? " "I'm feeling fine," he told them. Diiveko prepared to go home. They put the goods in the hack. They took the horses. Daveko was a good doctor. 
One time Daveko doctored Henry Inkonish, a Caddo Indian, who was liv­ing with his parents north of Anadarko. After the Caddo and Wichita doc­tors had all failed, they heard about Diiveko, who was then with other Kiowa-Apaches camping around Mt. Scott, near Lawton. The father loved his son so much he brought him to Diiveko on a wagon. The fee was to be a gray mule, a beef, a hog, and twenty-five dollars. Diiveko asked how he got sick. They told him while eating watermelon. Daveko asked who had doc­tored him. "The best Caddo and Wichita Indians," they told him. The boy was spitting up yellow matter and could only drink milk and soup. Diiveko said, "Maybe I can take it out." Diiveko sang and prayed. He put his mouth to the throat and sucked. Something came out. He gave it to the old man, who examined it and said, "That's it. A watermelon seed." The boy said, "I can breathe better now." He shook hands with Diiveko, saying, "You are now my best friend." The next day they came back to Mt. Scott bringing the doctor's fee. The boy's old man had a lot of cattle. They killed a beef, but instead of a hog they brought four big slabs of bacon. 
One time there was a Comanche who was a pretty good medicine man, but he could not doctor his wife, who was sick. Nobody could cure her. All the Comanches failed. They heard of Diiveko and brought the woman from Lawton to Ft. Cobb where the Apaches were camping with the Kiowas, get­ting ready for a Sun Dance. (This may have been the summer of 1883 when Diiveko was about 65.) The Apaches heard someone coming with horses dragging tipi poles. That was the Comanches approaching. They asked for Diiveko's tipi. He was camped on the north side of the Sun Dance circle. They saw Diiveko and told him they were going to camp on the west side of the circle, close to the river to be near the water, for the woman was sick and the man had to get the water himself. The husband offered Diiveko a horse if he would doctor his wife. During the day Diiveko doctored for a short time, but at night it took longer. He looked at the woman with his fan. "She has something inside," he said. "If I take that out she will get well." He took his black handkerchief and got a cup and put water in it. He took his eagle wing and dipped it in the water and sprinkled it over the woman. He put his handkerchief over her. He pretended to be scraping something together. Then he pulled out a long hair. She had been suffering a long time. After he took the hair out he sucked again and removed the pus. When they got back to their camp the woman drank some water. "I can drink easily," she said. "Before I choked, but now I don't." That night she came to Daveko's tipi smiling and laughing. "I'm feeling good, every­thing I eat agrees with me. You have cured me; there is nothing wrong with me. Now you are my brother. I live near Lawton, at the mouth of Hay Creek. My tipi poles are still up but the covering is down. Tomorrow we will bring you what we promised for the doctor bill. I hear you are going to have a big Sun Dance and if I can get hack I'm going to come." Daveko told her that he had to doctor her for three more nights. But she said she was well. He gave her one of his herbs; it was a piece of root and when it was put in the fire it smelled like cedar. Then the smoke was to be rubbed over one's self. Sometimes he hit off a piece of the root and chewed it and spit it over the patient. It made them stronger. 
Each medicine man was in a way a specialist. He cured for certain things, such as snake bite or stomach ailments. If a member of his family became ill and it was not an ailment he could cure, he went to one who could. Thus when Saddlehlanket became ill and was not able to doctor himself, he went to Daveko, who cured him. 
In doctoring, Daveko came to use a deer-hoof rattle with the wing feathers of the swift-hawk tied to it. He could magically clean out wounds with the feathers. He occasionally used a black handkerchief, which enabled him to look into a person and find the intrusive object harming him, which he then sucked out. 
When strangers asked for Daveko it was always easy to direct them. He had one of the few Kiowa-Apache tipis painted with a heraldic design (fig. 12) inherited from his father, who was a medicine man in his own right. Daveko's father had dreamed of this tipi after a Klintidie dance. This was the association of old men among the Kiowa-Apaches, and Daveko's father was one of the leaders who wore one of the red shoulder bands. They had danced four days and nights without sleep. On the fourth night at midnight, Daveko's father walked out on the prairie for the rest of the night. Toward morning he fell down and went to sleep and had the vision of his tipi.It was painted solid black except that the upper part and the smoke-flaps were painted red, and broad bands of red extended down the center of the hack and front, dividing on each side of the door-opening in front. A crescent moon, blue-green in color, with the points up, was painted on the hack and front of the upper end of each band. The power who gave it said, "I'm favoring you with this tipi which will never fall down even in the worst storm. Also, you will not die of anything but old age." In the worst storm the relatives would come to this tipi, which never blew down. Daveko's father became so old his skin peeled off. At his death Daveko inherited the 
45 



tipi, which was later inherited by Apache Sam. 
Curing Medicines. In addition to curing by sucking or extracting foreign materials from patients, Daveko had several other ways of curing. Three of his medicines he gave to his stepson, Apache Sam Klinekole, who gave the following account of how he used them as taught him by Daveko. Sam ac­quired the medicines on the day he made seven different sweat houses for Daveko. The day before Sam and two helpers got everything ready: cutting the poles, hauling the rocks, getting the bark. Early the next morning he made the fire and covered one of the sweat houses. Daveko took his nine Geese Men in with him (see the Geese Dance, p. 58 ff.) for he was giving them some of his medicines. Sam got more than any of the others since he was Daveko's main helper and stepson, but he only went into the last sweat house around four o'clock in the afternoon. Before that Sam was busy get­ting the other sweat houses ready; handing in the hot rocks, the water to go on them, lifting the covering off three times before removing it completely the fourth time. When the men came out of the seventh sweat house they were so red they looked like raw beef. 
One medicine Sam got was for curing sick babies who were jealous when their mothers were expecting another too soon. This account of curing with "Baby Medicine" deals with Allen Sonte (or Soontay), who was the in­terpreter, and who said he had heard this story many times. Allen was about six months old in 1896 when Sam noticed that Allen was becoming very thin, with his ribs plainly visible. He said to Allen's mother, "Maybe you are expecting? " "No," she told him. To which Sam replied, "You will show it before long." Some time after that Allen's father brought moccasins, leg­gings, a shirt, and five other things to Sam. The doctor bill should include the three things mentioned and any five other items. When they brought Allen to Sam, they also had the hump meat of the buffalo, pounded. Old Man Sonte said, "Old Man Sam, I want you to doctor my baby. He is jeal­ous." Allen, who was about a year old then, was just skin and bones, and his bowels were running. Sam sat on the west side of the tipi. He took a small amount of his medicine, which was i tea i' pi, the milk taken from the stomach of a small calf and dried, usually translated as "cheese." He put this before him with the pounded meat for Allen. He took live coals from the fire and put sweet-smelling grass braided as a small crescent against them. He raised the smoking grass toward the sun and prayed to the medi­cine buffalo in the east, "You helped Daveko, you have pity on me. Oh, Buffalo, Buffalo, have pity on me. I want to make this baby well; help me." This was toward noon. He prayed toward the east and north and made four clockwise motions with his hand. He put more sweet-smelling grass against 
47 

...... 

J!f£f,,~~ 
Fig. 13. Mrs. Big Man (above); Aurelia (right). Opposite page, Priscilla Blackbear (upper); Apache Sam Klinekole with ceremonial staff (lower). 

the live coals. He took the dried "cheese" and broke it up with his finger­nail and sprinkled it over the pounded meat. It was like salting the meat. He put his hand over the smoke and four times he put his hand in the pounded meat and mixed it up. He took more of the dried "cheese" and sprinkled it from the door on the east across the tipi to the west side, going through the fire. Then he took the pounded meat and sprinkled it from the south to north across the tipi. This made a cross of pounded meat and "cheese" centered in the fire. Sam again put his hands over the smoke four times and on the meat each time. He took more of the "cheese," breaking it up with his fingernail, and putting it in the fire. He also put some in Allen's nose and up from the nose across the forehead to the middle of the head. Then he went down to the left ear and put some in the ear and then down the middle of the head to the right ear, and some in that ear. When he got to the bottom of each ear he pulled the lobe. He then took red paint and mixed it with wa­ter. This he put across Allen's mouth, a spot on his forehead, and a little on his hair. Then he caught him on each side under the arms and said, "I am making you strong." When a buffalo has a little calf that cannot get milk, the calf finds a place where he can roll in red clay in order to grow stronger. Sam prayed as he put the red paint on, "Make this baby well. Make him strong as the buffalo calf." The pounded meat that had been mixed with smoke and "cheese" was folded up in a hide and given to Old Man Sonte. Sam said, "If Allen wants to eat any of it, let him. Let him eat as much as he can." Allen started to cry and got up. It looked as if he was going to fall. They said, "Catch him." But Sam said, "No; let him alone; let him try to walk alone." Allen did not fall but walked a few steps. Sam had finished and they brought in the doctor bill and gave it to him. 
In a similar manner Sam cured a Kiowa boy who later became his son-in­law. This was how Daveko had taught Sam to doctor. Sam gave his medicine to the writer so he could cure his children when they became ill, and was told to follow the above procedure. At the time Sam got his medicine from Daveko, he gave the latter a horse. 
A second medicine that Daveko had and gave to Sam was for helping women who were having difficulty in childbirth. If the baby would not pass and the nurses had given up, Daveko might help. He had a small ring made of the wild grapevine and then beaded. They would get him a cup of water and he would put the ring in it. He would stir it in one direction and then "unwind" it by stirring in the other direction. While the water was still mov­ing, it was given to the woman to drink. When she had finished drinking, Daveko took the ring and rolled it toward the east, toward the doorway. He ran after it, grabbing it as he ran out. The women were helping the mother and the baby was born as Daveko ran out. 
A third medicine was for snakebite. A young· man had a horse bitten by a snake. He called on Daveko, who used white clay in curing it. He made a circle of clay around the horse's leg just above the swelling so that the poi­son would not go higher. Then he rubbed white clay downward and the swelling went away. In curing an individual that had been snake bitten, he sucked out snake's teeth from the wound. 
Another medicine Daveko had was a root for stomach trouble. He got it from his sister, Nikapon, End-of-Earth. She had a large family and wanted Daveko's "Baby Medicine," described above. Daveko wanted her "Eat" or "Stomach Medicine." She asked him to trade and he agreed. Each could continue to use the medicine they were giving away. Daveko shut his hand with his medicine in it, the "cheese" tied in a piece of calico, and she put her hand over his. Then slowly, deliberately, he withdrew his hand, opening it as he did, and she took the medicine. She then rubbed it over herself. Daveko said, "We will keep these medicines in the family. The 'cheese' is tied in there. When you use it all get more from a freshly butchered calf. Be sure it is dried and take good care of it." 
In the same manner she gave him her stomach medicine. It was some root that grew near Ft. Cobb. This is beaten into a fine powder and mixed with the fat from the kidney of a buffalo. In doctoring, you let the patient smell it. Put a little in his nose and a little in his ears. You then take the patient's right thumb and shake it; then the left thumb; the right big toe; the left big toe, shaking each in turn. Then grease his face with what is left. During this procedure the patient should think of something he wants to eat, like a steak. The family should get it for him and by eating it he will get stronger. Then he will want something else; soon he will want everything and eat heartily. Sometimes they tied some of the pounded meat mixed with kidney fat in a small buckskin bag and wore it around the neck. When you lost your appetite you smelled the bag. Sometimes when you eat too much and overload your stomach, you will have to vomit. This medicine prevents that. You can eat as much as you want and not get sick. The doctor hill for this medicine is four new things. Sam got this medicine from his aunt, End­of-Earth, Daveko's sister. He gave some of it to his daughter, Bertha, some to his son, Gregg, and some to the writer. It is possible to give, trade, or sell at least some medicines without diminishing their power. 
Prohibitions and taboos were coupled with these medicines. Certain foods had to be avoided; certain actions prescribed, others tabooed. Sam had ac­quired all of Daveko's medicines, but he used only the first, the "Baby Medi­cine." He did not like the taboos associated with the others. He was afraid he might forget and eat some forbidden food, or step in front of a pregnant woman, or unknowingly violate some other taboo. It was like a trap that he might step in. He quit the other medicines because he did not want to get trapped. Daveko seemed not to be bothered with these restrictions and pre­scribed behavior. 
Since snake was one of his protectors, he could not eat beef or buffalo entrails. Once some white people were boiling beef entrails, making soup. Daveko picked up a long one and held it up. "Do you like this? "he asked. "Sure. It is good," they said. "I am afraid of it," he told them. As he fooled around with it a snake appeared. The white woman cooking the entrails was afraid of them. She would not continue cooking, and threw all of the en­trails in the creek. 
Daveko brought Capitan Kosope back to health (one might say "life" since the man was on the point of death), and Capitan listened to Sam's account, agreeing with him completely. Capitan was camped near the mis­sion just south of the cemetery next to the creek. Everyone heard he was dying. His family already had the robe around him for burial. His father, mother, sisters, brothers, were all crying. They came for Daveko and Sam went with them. They went in the tipi where Capitan was lying. Sam began singing and Daveko made some kind of motion in Capitan's direction. Mostly he just blew his breath over Capitan. It became smoky, foggy just over the patient. Daveko spoke to Capitan's father, "I believe it is all right. Don't feel bad. I know he is going to pull through. Let's smoke." Daveko took a puff and blew the smoke toward Capitan. It got even foggier over him. When Daveko finished smoking he began doctoring. Capitan had his eyes closed, but he opened them. One of his sisters said, "Oh, my brother opened his eyes." All the family were in there. As Sam sang, Daveko doc­tored some more. Capitan moved; he wanted to sit up. Capitan's father got up and called Daveko brother-in-law, and caught Daveko around the neck because he felt so grateful. Capitan sat up and Daveko gave him an Indian name, Raise-His-Hands. This came from one of their most sacred religious ceremonies. Those who danced inside the tipi during the ceremony held their hands toward the fire. Those dancing outside also held their hands toward the fire in the tipi. Raise-His-Hands (to the fire) was Capitan's new name. 
When Sam finished telling this story, Capitan, who had been the patient, said, "I was dying and Daveko hit me under the foot with a moccasin. It was just as if I could hear something. My father was lying across me crying. They were all crying. Somebody was talking. It was Daveko and he said, 'Stop crying, he is all right.' I looked around and saw a watermelon near the door. I wanted it." 
Divination. The power of divination is difficult to differentiate from other types, according to the Kiowa-Apaches, who include it with general curing abilities. It was mentioned previously as ye yi nat' i, "looking over it," or "looking into it." The incident cited above dealt with a sick man who had been witched. Daveko extracted from the region of the patient's throat a piece of tough skin. By using a black handkerchief, he looked into the man to discover the cause of his illness. This power is usually associated with owl, one of Daveko's dream-helpers. 
A situation more readily classified as divination occurred when Daveko "looked for" some Kiowa men who had gone in search of a buffalo for their annual Sun Dance and had not returned. It will be recalled that in the 1880's buffalo were very scarce on the southern plains. Mooney (1898: 344) says that the summer of 1879 "may be recorded as the date of the disap­pearance of the buffalo from the Kiowa country. Thenceforth the appear­ance of even a single animal was a rare event." In fact, the dance was not held in the succeeding even years of 1880, 1882, and 1886 because no buf­falo could be found. In the odd years, up to 1887, buffalo were finally located, but after much searching. In 1881 it took so long to find one buf­falo, a lone bull, that the dance was known as the "Hot Dance," for it was held in August rather than in May or June, the usual time. For the last Sun Dance held by the Kiowas, in 1887, a buffalo was "bought from a ranchman named Charles Goodnight, who had a small herd of domestic buffalo in northern Texas." 
It thus may have been in 1881 that the Kiowas came to Daveko asking him to find their missing hunters. They had been camped in the big Sun Dance circle waiting so long that they became anxious. The Kiowa "Black legs" company came to Daveko's tipi bringing him a pipe. He thought only one or two men were coming to see him, but it was a whole company. They put the pipe right in front of him and everybody smoked. After doing so Daveko said, "Why did you bring this pipe? Is anyone sick? " "No," they told him, "we have come about the ten young men who have been looking for a buffalo hide, but haven't come back. We want you to look for them." Daveko said, "Oh, I thought somebody was sick. Fill up another pipe, but you stay here." He left the tipi and went out from camp to be alone. He smoked and made his prayer. Maybe it was owl who came to talk to him, telling him, "These ten men had a black horse for a leader, but it died. But they are coming back. They will be here before sunup." Daveko went back to the tipi where they were waiting for him. He sat down and told them what he had found out. "When they left here they took a black horse, which they led. When they saw the buffalo they put a bridle on the horse and started on the chase. They got a buffalo, but that horse died. They will be back before sunup by the bend in the creek." The Kiowas left Daveko and went back to their camp to tell the people what they had learned. Usually the children made a great deal of noise, but they were quiet. They wanted to hear what was said. The head Kiowa man, named Poor Buffalo, told the people that they had taken the pipe to Hand-Game­Medicine Man, the Kiowa name for Daveko, who said their hunters would be back in the morning. Everyone got excited, crying, "They are coming; we can dance." The "Black legs," the "Gourds," and all the different com­panies began dancing. Everyone danced all night. Near morning they got quiet and listened. They smoked and prayed. Then 'way off in the dis­tance they heard gunshots. Everyone started hallooing. Seven men and one woman brought in the buffalo. Daveko told the truth: they came when he said they would. Everyone was looking for the black horse. It was not there, for it had died. 
The interpreter, Alonzo Chalepah, born in 1877, added the following: when they spread the buffalo hide, his mother took him by the hand and went over to it. She had an offering to make to it: a piece of cloth she tied to the hair. She made a prayer and then made Alonzo put his hand on the fur. He was afraid, but she took him by the wrist and made him rub the buffalo skin. 
Magical Powers, Sleight-of-hand. Plains medicine men prided themselves on their magical power; power used here in the sense of tricks and sleight­of~hand. They actually competed with each other to show off this power. The hand game between Daveko and the Kiowa leader, Pa-tepte, was such a contest. But Daveko did not fail in such a contest with the Cheyennes. The Kiowas were playing the hand game with the Cheyennes and losing every time. They were losing all their goods. Daveko's brother said, "My brother is good, you can't guess him. He knows about the hand game." The Kiowas took the pipe to Daveko, who thought they were coming to get him to doctor somebody. After they had smoked, Daveko said, "What do you want? Is somebody sick? " "No," the head Kiowa man told him, "I'm get­ting beat every time at the hand game. We want you to play for us." "All right," said Daveko, "I'll he there." They had a big tipi and there were many Cheyennes there. The Cheyenne leader was good. He took a buffalo rib and put it in front of him. Some of the Kiowa men said, "About the middle of the game we'll let Daveko have the bean." The head man who brought the pipe to Daveko said, "You be quiet. We will give it to Daveko at the begin­ning." They let the Cheyenne man who had the rib before him begin the game. They began singing and the Cheyenne leader made the motions with his hands that go with the rhythm. The Kiowas tried to guess which hand the bean was in, but there was nothing there. He was so good nobody could guess him. Daveko told the Kiowas to get a black handkerchief and tie knots in it. The Cheyenne man had something white, maybe the teeth of some· thing, or perhaps ribs. When Daveko got the bean they could not guess him either. Both sides tried, but neither side could guess the other. The game ran a long time. Some women, the wild type, made a lot of noise. Toward midnight these women got sleepy and slipped away. Everything got quiet. They stopped singing, and were just guessing. The Cheyenne man said to Daveko, "Go ahead and do something with that bean." Daveko was going to show them. He rolled his sleeves 'way up, so his arms were bare. They thought he had the bean in his hand, but he shook hands with them and there was nothing there. He shook hands again and the bean was there. The Kiowas told the Cheyennes that if they failed they would take their goods. The Cheyennes tried to guess Daveko again, but he did not have it. He reached in the fire and pulled the bean out. The Kiowas told the Cheyennes to do something like that, but the Cheyenne man said he could not do any­thing like that. The Kiowas then claimed that the Cheyenne had failed, but the Cheyennes would not give up their goods. They quit the game. They never beat Daveko. Only sometimes did he use these powers. 
In 1934 the writer witnessed a hand game between the Kiowas and Kiowa­Apaches against the Comanches. The latter won every game until the Kiowa­Apaches demanded that their man, Alonzo Chalepah, be allowed to play. The Comanches objected, saying Alonzo was a medicine man. But, since the Kiowas and Kiowa-Apaches refused to play unless he was admitted to the game, the Comanches reluctantly agreed. Alonzo took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves far above the elbows. He then took the bean and with his arms held far out from his body, moved them in rhythm with the sing­ing. The Comanches could never guess in which hand he held the bean and continually lost until they refused to play. And so the game ended. 
At one time the Presbyterian missionary came to visit Daveko, who dressed himself in white in preparation for the visit, in contrast to the mis­sionary, who was all in black. The preacher said, "I hear you have been mak­ing things in some way." Daveko called for a fur cap and some vessels. He shook out the cap and showed the missionary that there was nothing in it. Then he brought out four handfuls of prunes from the cap and put them in the dishes. The missionary asked if he could eat one and Daveko said yes. Then the missionary said, "What shall I do with the seed?" "Throw it away," Daveko answered. Then the missionary said, "I'm not here to do this kind of thing. I cannot make one thing out of another. I am here to teach reli­gion." It began raining and the missionary asked if he could stay, for he did not want to get wet. Daveko then went outside and stood in the rain, but when he came back in he was dry. The missionary just looked at him. When the preacher left, D aveko told the people that he could do a lot of things. Then he shook his sides and took out bullets, cartridges, onions, and the ten­drils of a grapevine. He announced that sometime in the future he was going to put up his tipi and go through some of his ceremonies. 
One day when they were in the tipi Daveko's wife, Sam's mother, said, "You think you can do so many things, make us some sugar. We are out of it." So Daveko told someone to tear off a piece of paper from the bag in which the sugar came. They put this in the coffee and stirred it and the cof­fee was as sweet as molasses. Similarly he made sugar for Allen Sonte's father. A number of times he produced candy for his children, taking it out of his mouth. Most of his tricks were taking things out of his mouth. When someone wanted string, he took some out of his mouth. "Is that enough? " he asked. Another time he took a cloth tape measure out of his mouth and cut it to the length needed. He was able to produce many things, hut not meat. Sometimes he picked up glowing coals without burning himself. 
One time Daveko told Saddleblanket and Pil ' so, "Some day you are going to get whiskey and I'm going to drink it. If I get drunk, get some shells of the land turtle and scatter them around me." Later when Daveko got drunk, these two got the turtle shells and spread them around him. He picked up one shell and swallowed it. You could see the enlarged place in his throat where it got stuck. It sounded as if he were choking. The others all got scared. They told Daveko that he would have to do something for himself. He picked up some dirt and hit his right side. The shell flew out with something in it. They picked it up and found in it four onion sets, the lead from four small cartridges, and the tendrils of a grapevine. Daveko did this to show these men his powers. He left the turtle shell, but swallowed the other items again. The informant, Apache Sam, was a witness to this. 
One time Daveko had a Comanche visitor. After the man had settled him­self, Daveko said, "My friend, what do you like to eat best?" "Plums," the man said. "All right, I'll get some for you," Daveko told him. He got his winter cap which was lined with red inside. He put some cedar in the fire and smoked the cap, which he then put before him. He reached out and pretended to put something in the cap. He did this four times. Then the people in the tipi looked into the cap. Something was shining in it. There were plums in it. Daveko gave them to his wife and she took them out and boiled them. Later, after eating them, Daveko told his Comanche friend to put the seeds in a certain place. The informant was in the tipi and ate two of the plums and put the seeds right by his place. Diiveko gathered up all the seeds and put them back into his cap. He turned the cap around and the seeds were gone. 
One year, after the Sun Dance, the Apaches moved back to Daha Creek. There was no rain and everything was drying up in the heat. The Wichita Indians' crops were burning up. They brought the pipe to Diiveko to make rain. They went into his tipi and he started his ritual. He sang a song about the snake that comes out of the water. The snake is black as coal and is right in the center of the cloud. The snake is the only one that comes down to this earth and then goes back up into the cloud. The white people say that the vapor goes up from the ocean and then it rains, but when the clouds come you can see the tail of the snake hanging down. The snake brings the rain. That was what Diiveko's song was about. When he sang he put his head outside the tipi and moved it in time with the song and blew water out of his mouth. A big black cloud came up in the sky. It looked like it was going to rain, but it did not. It finally cleared off. Diiveko failed. 
This is one of the few accounts of Diiveko's having failed at anything he tried to do. It is believed, however, that he caused it to rain the night of the first meeting of the Geese Men, discussed below. Also, there were several ac­counts of his walking in the rain without getting wet, or going out of the tipi into a rainstorm and coming in dry. 
Diiveko also failed to cure a man who was paralyzed. The man's pillow was made of buffalo hide stuffed with grass. When mice got into it the man trampled on it and killed them. Maybe the mice witched him, for he became paralyzed. His people got Diiveko, who told them to make a small buckskin ball. It was done immediately and put between the heels of the sick man. Diiveko began doctoring. He sucked out grass from the joints of the man's feet. This was the kind of grass mice use for making a nest. The man felt better but he could not move. They continued watching. That ball turned into a mouse. Diiveko told them that if the mouse ran toward the door he would be able to cure the man. The mouse did not run any place. It stayed around the man's feet. Diiveko gave up. He said he could not cure him. The man died. 
Once Diiveko camped with his family at the mouth of a creek that ran into the Washita. It was where Sam's sister had recently died, and a place they should have avoided. Diiveko told his wife, Sam's mother, that since the girl's death it was dangerous for him to go into the river to bathe. "If I dive in there and swim around you watch my feet. If they turn into a fish's tail you hurry and pick up some mud and throw it over my head or I will turn into a fish." The old man went down there and his wife and Sam followed. They saw him swimming around under the water. They could see his feet turning into a fish tail. Sam's mother picked up some mud and threw it on the water. It saved the old man and he came out. "I lost my daughter," he said. "I loved my daughter; some day I'm going to follow her." While sitting on the bank Diiveko rubbed his hand in the dirt and hit his side. A black turtle with a long tail came out of his mouth. Diiveko spoke to it, saying, "Little turtle, you helped me make a living. You made me strong, but now I'm going to turn you loose." He took the turtle out of his mouth and let it go at the edge of the water. That was the end of his power. He was letting it go. He seemed to give up after his daughter died. 
Some time before that Diiveko wanted to give the turtle and its power to Sam. He said, "Son, I'm going to take pity on you. I'm going to give you this turtle. You inhale him. Suck him in." The turtle wiggled and started to go in Sam's mouth, but Sam was frightened and began choking. Diiveko got the turtle back and "sniff," the turtle was gone. Diiveko had swallowed it. 
The Geese Dance. Later in life, after Diiveko had become known as a mas­ter of legerdemain and a good doctor, he not only had many admirers, but a number of disciples. These he organized into an association called "The Geese Dance," as instructed by Tizze (power), in a dream when he was sick. Diiveko received this power one fall when the geese were flying south. The old people told him something would take pity on him then. Some time after this dream, he put up a large tipi and invited nine of his closest associates to join him. Some were relatives; others were close friends. In addition to his stepson, Apache Sam, who was the only one surviving in 1934, there were Old Man Sonte, Little Pony, Nikoze, Baatla, Aitla, and Djaristlise. 
A full and formal dance lasted four days and was usually held in the fall or spring when the geese were migrating. Sometimes they got together only for a Sunday, which they did rather frequently. This could be any time of the year. When Diiveko gave notice for the Geese Dance members to meet, he put up a special tipi some distance from the village. They were like a company of soldiers, a drill team, and would come at once. 
They painted their bodies with white clay and wore only a breechcloth and white sheets around their shoulders. Their arms were painted black from the elbows down to the fingertips. Each had a green-blue stripe about one inch wide painted across his forehead and this continued on each side of the eyes down to the middle of the cheek. Five of the men had a large circle painted on their chests and on their sheets, green-blue in color, like rain. Four men had green-blue crescents with the points up painted on their sheets and chests. Diiveko's body was plain white but on his sheet he had the pic­ture of a goose. They each had little bells like white men use at mealtime to call a servant. They had a company drum that was round and flat, about 14 inches across. When they functioned as a group outside the tipi, they rode white horses. Daveko made a ring from the grapevine with soft eagle feathers tied all around it. Sometimes they used this in the dance, different ones dancing with it. 
The first meeting was held southwest of Ft. Cobb and lasted four days. From morning until sundown they neither ate nor drank anything during these four days. They all sat on the east side of the tipi facing west. While singing they shook their bells, moving one arm forward and then the other in time with the song. If they stood they kept their feet still. They only moved their arms in imitation of geese. They had five or six songs. 
At the first meeting around noon of the first day, Daveko had water brought into the tipi and put before him. He took ten short sticks about two inches long and put them in the water. He told the first man on the north side to put his head in the bucket and get his mouth full of water, but not to swallow it. Each man in turn from north to south did that. Sam was thirsty and wanted to drink his, but he just held it in his mouth. The ten sticks were left floating around in the water. Daveko then had them file out of the tipi and stand around it. He told them to blow the water toward the tipi like rain and then to run in as fast as they could. When the men got back in the tipi they looked in the bucket and saw that the sticks were gone but there was ice floating around like big hail stones. Maybe Daveko turned the sticks into ice. Each man took a piece of ice and put it in his mouth and chewed it. 
That night while they were in the tipi singing, the rains came. There was no wind, only the rain pouring down steadily. Thunder was shaking the earth. Blowing water on the tipi must have made it rain. Daveko went out into the heavy rain. "I'm standing out here in the rain," he said, "but I am not getting wet." He came back in and was dry. He brought in with him one of the prairie turtles that is so afraid of thunder and lightning and has stripes on its shell. These zigzag lines are the brand of the lightning. Daveko tried to swallow the turtle, but it choked him. He had to give up and take it out of his mouth. 
The second evening they went back to the camp to eat. Some Apache visi­tors came back with them to Daveko's tipi. This time they stood up to dance, keeping their feet motionless but moving one hand and then the other forward in rhythm with the drum and song and imitating geese. They rang their bells while they sang, and when they sat down they hit the bell on the ground. 
They had everything prepared for the fourth day. In the early morning they had all their white horses tied up by Daveko's tipi. They painted their 
59 

bodies with the white clay and their faces with the green-blue markings. They rode their horses to the Indian village some six miles away. When geese see a village they bunch up and fly around in a circle. Then one leads out and they all string out after him. This is what the men did, making the honking calls of geese as they rode. When they got to the village they all bunched up and milled around on their horses. Then Daveko led out and they followed him to the last tipi of the village. Sometimes they made a "V" formation as geese do. At the end of the village they got off their horses, lined up, and started to sing and dance. The people watched them. When they finished they broke up and went home. They talked and laughed as they walked through the village. There was nothing secret about the dance. They told the people when they were going to meet and some came and watched in the tipi. 
One time the missionary, Mr. Craters, came to one of their Sunday meet­ings when they were camped just west of the mission. This missionary was a careful one, good to the Indians. Daveko made a prayer up in the air to "Our Father." The missionary, said, "If you do this every Sunday I'm going to come in here too and pray for you." But he never came again. After Daveko's death the group never met again. 
The Kiowa-Apaches seemed to feel a very close association with geese. Some people said that geese were Apaches. Some Apaches had the power to make the geese change formations when they were flying. There were two formations, the long single line and the V-shaped one. If one of these Apaches called, "Bed ka ta sa tle," the geese would make a V-formation. If they said, "Na ya," the geese would form into a single line. 
End of the Trail. One day some boys were playing at shooting arrows. They had made a mound of earth and covered it with a discarded buffalo hide, pretending it was alive. Daveko was watching them with amusement as he went by. An arrow missed and hit the old man, glancing against his side. It made no wound. This was one of his taboos and he was afraid of it. He said to his wife, "I want to live, but you know what I am afraid of. I have been hit by an arrow and I don't think I will survive." At night when they went to bed she did not sleep but watched over him. He told her that when­ever the spike came out of his mouth he was going to leave them. His wife said, "We have many ponies and horses and much goods, we could hire an­other Indian to doctor you." "No," he said, "no one can help me." He put his hand on the spike where it was in him. "It's all right," he said, "it hasn't moved." Some time later he felt it again and found it had moved. He knew this was the end. The spike was coming up. He told his wife, "There is no hope that I can survive. The point is coming out. When you wrap me up put that spike on my chest, with the point down and get the four arrows with the red lines and put them on my chest with their points down and the feathers under my chin." There did not seem to be anything wrong with him. He was not sick. When the spike got to his mouth he took hold of it and pulled it out. The tail end came first. It was about one and one-half inches long and made of iron. As he took it out of his mouth the breath left him. He was dead. The relatives were going to keep that spike. People said they could learn something from it. But somehow Saddleblanket, his brother, did not take it. It was buried on Daveko's chest with the point 
down. 
Many years earlier Daveko had told his wife, lkana, who was Sam's mother, that when he died they were to let him lie on the west side of the tipi for seven days. "Then I will come back to life. But if you do bury me, watch by my grave and a cottonwood tree will grow by my head. When any­one is ill, no matter what the cause, let him come to the east side of my grave and he will get well." This is what he told Ikana and Sam. But in 1885 lkana died and Daveko married another woman who did not know what he had said. Therefore, at his death he was buried immediately afterward, as was the Indian custom. His grave was about one and one-half miles north of Anadarko in the hills. About ten years after his death, Sam and Old Man Sonte visited Daveko's grave. Everywhere there were black-jacks, but at the head of the grave was a cottonwood tree. 
61 


BULLETINS OF 
THE 	TEXAS MEMORIAL MUSEUM 
Funds for publication of the Bulletin series and all other museum publica­tions are derived solely from the proceeds of the museum's sales counter. Profits, if any, from museum publications are used to issue additional papers. 
Bulletin Number 	Price 
1. 	
Mylohyus na&utu&, Long-nosed Peccary of the Texas Pleistocene by E. L. Lundelius, Jr., 1960 . .... . ...... .. .. .. .. . . .... ... . . . . $1.00 

2. 	
The Friesenhahn Cave (Part I) by Glen L. Evans, and The Saber-toothed Cat, Dinoba&ti& seru& (Part 11) by Grayson E. Meade, 1960 ........ . .... . .. . ...... . ...... . . . LOO 

3. 	
A Bibliography of Recent Texas Mammals by Gerald G. Raun, 1962 ........... ................ ..... . 1.00 

4. 	
Handbook of Texas Archeology: Type Descriptions, Dee Ann Suhm & Edw. B. Jelks, editors, 1962; reprints available ..... ............ ........ ................ . 9.00 

5. 	
Salvage Archeology of Canyon Reservoir: The Wunderlich, Footbridge, & Oblate Sites, by Johnson, Suhm, & Tunnell, 1962 .. ......... ...... ................. ... . 2.00 

6. 	
The Ethnography & Ethnology of Franz Boas, by Leslie A. White, 1963 ..... . .. . .. . ......... . ...... . . .. . 2.00 

7. 	
Fossil Vertebrates from Miller's Cave, Llano County, Texas, by Thomas Patton, 1963 .. .... ......... ............. . 2.00 

8. 	
Interactions Between a Bisexual Fish Species & Its .. Gynogene_tic Sexu~ Parasite, by Clark Hubbs, 1963 . . .......... . . . 2.00 

9. 	
Oedaleops campi (Reptilia: Pelycosauria), A new genus & species from the Lower Permian of New Mexico, and the family Eothyrididae, by Wann Langston, Jr., 1965 LOO 

10. 	
Blancan Mammalian Fauna & Pleistocene Formations, Hudspeth County, Texas, by W. S. Strain, 1966 2.00 


lL 	A Population of Woodrats (Neotoma micropus), by Gerald G. Raun, 1966 ... ....... . . ......... ....... . .... . 2.oo 
12. 	
Toward a Statistical Overview of the Archaic Cultures of Central & Southwestern Texas, by LeRoy Johnson, 1967 . . . ... . .. . 2.00 

13. 	
Geographic Variations in Survival of Hybrids Between Etheostomatine Fishes, by Clark Hubbs, 1967 .... . ..... . .. . .. .. . . 2.00 

14. 	
A Lipan Apache Mission, San Lorenzo de la Santa Cruz, 1762-1771, by C. D. Tunnell and W.W. Newcomb, Jr., 1969 3.00 

15. 	
Pliocene Carnivores of the Coffee Ranch, by W.W. Dalquest, 1969 .... ........................ ......... .... ........ ... . 2.00 

16. 	
Excavations at Baker Cave, Val Verde County, Texas, by J. H. Word and C. L. Douglas, 1970 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.00 


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