Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1883-12-06
The Piutes.


The Piute is not an impressive chxr-
Acter. Civilization has done its worst
for him. He has learned all the bad
and none of the good. He dresses in
the prevailing style of the mining camps,
with flannel shirt and broad-brimmed
hat. In the spring, summer and fall he
hunts, fishes and picks berries. and
disposes of his surplus stock to the
whites. He IS an inveterate gambler, a
hard drinker, when he can get liquor,
and when drunk is a fiend. The tribal
relations of the Piutes have been broken
up, although they still recognize NOM
inal Chief. They roam aimlessly
over the country from place to place,
begging and stealing, and living the
Lord only knows how. In the winter
they are the scavengers of the State.
They know the location of every Swill,
barrel, refuse-heap and ash-pile IL
Nevada, and never a day passes that,
they do not make rounds, always find
ing something to repay them for their
6'ouble. One of them recently came
ambling up to an ash-barrel which, the
owner remarked to a bystander, con-
tanned nothing that even Piute would
deem of value. The red man poked
around it for time, and then tipped
the barrel over, empting most of its
contents on the ground. The owner
had some misgivings, but he still
laughed, and said the 'sIniun" would
find nothing there. Pretty soon the fell
low picked out something and put it in
his pocket. The owners curiosity was
aroused. Walking up to the redskin,
be asked:
you don't find much in there do
you?''
''Mebbe, said he; cheap catch 'en
toback."
He had found one or two ancient to-
bacco guilds in the ashes. and did not
despair of picking out a few more. So
they go from the back doors of the best
houses to those of saloons and slaughter
houses, gladly appropriating to their
own use hundreds of things which the
white man has discarded as useless.
To most people the Piute is the persona
fication of a joke. A more solemn
mortal than he can not very we'll be
imagined, but his quaint ways, his imita-
ton of the white man, more especially
the bad white man, and his queer as
sumption of the airs of civilized life
make him very picturesque object
when he does not render himself
nuisance, as is1quite apt to be the case.
1t doesn't take great deal of silver
change to start big gambling game
among the Piutes. If a crowd of fif-
teen or twenty can raise ten dollars or
twenty dollars in silver the sport will be
kept up for hours. These gambling
spells take on the nature of a tourna-
ment, and last sometimes for weeks, at
tracing the red sports from all parts
of the State. They meet in the daytime
on the sunny side of their wickiups,
from which they extend wings by ty-
ing blankets on poles to break the force
of the wind. The gamblers place two
poles on the ground about ten feet apart
and parallel with each other, and seat
themselves on the ground cross-legged
outside the poles. There are generally
six or eight bucks on each side, and the
stakes are stacked on the open ground
between the poles. The game that they
play is incomprehensible to the white
mind, but it seems to be nothing more
than guessing by one buck in which hand
another holds some shells. While this
is in progress the players sing monOt-
onOus chant and sway their bodies to
and fro. When night comes on sage
brush fires are lighted, and the games
often last until morning, the sQuaws
and children standing near, as deeply
interested in the game as the players.
No game can be played without the
dismal accompaniment of chanting, and
no weirder sights can be imagined than
those to be witnessed in one of these
prOtracted day and night tournaments.
It was at one of these festive gatherings
that one of the wives of Chief Nachez
iVsf n TO fIar
were broken up in the expectations that,
in accordance with the traditions of the
race, one of the newcomers would be
given up 10 be killed The mother,
however, begged so piteously that the
life of her offspring be spared that
Nachez concluded to let them both live.
and the disappointed redskins resumed
their gambling.
The Piutes have no enemies but the
WashOes, a tribe even more degraded
than they. Reports frequently gain
currency chat the two nations are at
war, and that dreadful bloodshed has
resulted These stories usually origi-
nate with the Piutes, who are uncOnscion-
able liars, and seem to enjoy the nara
ton of tales of slaughter for the edifica-
ton of the whites, particularly when
the latter are in generous mood. The
two tribes have not had an actual fight
since 1868, when the Piutes managed to
reduce their ancient enemies to subiec-
ton, and from that day to this they
have lorded it over the subject race in
the most inhuman manner. No Washoe
is permitted to own gun or any kind
of tirearm, and the discovery that one
of them has anything of the kind in his
possession is the signal for a Piute raid
and fight, if the weapon is not immedi-
ately surrendered. This terrorism in
which the Washoes are held by the
Piutes, themselves the least warlike
perhaps of all the American Indians ex-
cepting the Washoes, would be ludi-
crOus were it not almost pitiful. Low
and despicable as the Piute may be, it
seems to afford him satisfaction to
know that he is the master of somebody.
Personal encounters between members
Of tho tXUO fIihas ora of fraouont nool1T..