Herman Lehmann > Quotes

“I could hear talking, singing, shouting, crying, and other sounds, and I noticed everybody wore different clothes on that day. Men and women with fine clothes were going down there, and soon two or three men wearing long black coats passed me and followed the crowd. Everybody respected those fellows, and I decided they were the medicine men. I resolved to see what was going on down there, so I slipped through the bushes and watched them. I saw one of the men whom I thought was a medicine man get up and read something out of a book; occasionally he would look at his congregation and then up, and I wondered why he did not smoke; then I concluded it was a council of war, but there were too many squaws there for that. The audience rose and sang, then they all got down on their knees and covered up their faces; some groaned while others wept, and one man mumbled a lot of words; then they all got up and sang a song. The medicine man came to the front and went through a long talk and gesticulations and everybody watched him. The sober-looking man with the long coat mumbled something at first, but gradually grew louder and began singing off his speech, while the tear drops trickled down his cheeks and his face wore a sad expression. His audience seemed to lean forward and drink in every word he said. He kept talking and all the people arose and commingled their voices in a mighty chorus, while the melodious strains floated on the zephyr breeze and reached my ears and seemed as a balm to the aching pains of my breaking heart. Then shouts of laughter, shrill screams, merry faces, sad-eyed spectators, some shouted, others rushed to the center and began dancing, shaking hands and general confusion reigned supreme. It was a sure-enough old fashion Methodist shouting meeting, but of course I did not know this. I thought it must be a new kind of a war dance, rain dance or some kind of a religious ceremony, so I rushed in, gave the Comanche yell, cleared several benches and landed in the midst of the revival. My manner of worship did not suit those white people and they stampeded, leaving me “monarch of all I surveyed.” I gave a few more whoops and a little dance anyway, and looked around to see what had become of all the council, and I saw the big medicine man tearing along with his coat tails flapping as he headed for my mother’s home. My people never permitted me to go to another Methodist revival until I could understand English and knew how to behave myself. True, I broke up the meeting that day, but I was just as earnest, just as fervent, just as candid and sincere as the most sanctified among them, only my mode did not conform to their theories. I have seen just as much earnestness and less hypocrisy among the Indians in their worship as I ever have seen since I came among the whites.”
― Herman Lehmann, Nine Years Among the Indians

“A fellow does not know how far he can run until he has the hope of life in flight and the knowledge of death in being overtaken. That acts as a goad to urge him on when all other incentives fail.”
― Herman Lehmann, Nine Years Among the Indians, 1870-1879: The Story of the Captivity and Life of a Texan Among the Indians

“draw the cords deep into my flesh. Not content with placing me in this extremely painful position, those red devils placed a heavy stone on my back, pressing my face and nose into the sand, and there I was compelled to stay all night long, with no covering except that large rock on my back. I suffered all of the agonies of death, but when I would groan one of the Indians would jump up and pull my hair and ears, and beat me. How I lived through that awful night I do not know. About daybreak next morning Pinero”
― Herman Lehmann, Nine Years Among the Indians, 1870-1879: The Story of the Captivity and Life of a Texan Among the Indians

“supplied. We”
― Herman Lehmann, Nine Years Among the Indians, 1870-1879: The Story of the Captivity and Life of a Texan Among the Indians

“Children were often born to Apache squaws who were with raiding parties. The Indians would permit their squaws to go with them on their raids, and if it so happened that a child was born the squaw would be left to take care of herself as best she could, or if another squaw was in the party and chose to remain with her sister in distress, she was allowed to do so. Within a reasonable time the squaw and her papoose would come into camp and there would be rejoicing if the papoose happened to be a male child, because that meant a future warrior. But if it happened to be a female, no notice would be taken of the new arrival. I have known squaws to give birth to a child, abandon it immediately and proceed on with the party, with no apparent injury. I knew one squaw of the Apaches who gave birth to twins, and she became so angry because there were two children instead of one that she stamped her offspring to death and left their little bodies for the vultures to devour. Comanche women were kinder to their children, and the births usually occurred in the villages. A woman in delicate health was not allowed to accompany her warrior on a raid, but had to remain in camp until the looked-for event happened. They carefully nourished the new-born babe and bestowed upon their children, male and female, that motherly affection that was the child’s due. What we would now term illegitimate children were rare among the Indians. There was virtue among the Indians and it was rigidly maintained. Of course there were times when a married woman “went wrong,” in which case her nose was cut off, but it was seldom that an unmarried girl departed from the paths of decency and gave birth to a child.”
― Herman Lehmann, Nine Years Among the Indians, 1870-1879: The Story of the Captivity and Life of a Texan Among the Indians

“After the stone became very hot, small thin pieces would pop off; we selected those pieces which would require the least work to put into shape, and picked these hot pieces up with a stick split at the end; while these pieces were very hot, we dropped cold water on those places we wished to thin down; the cold water caused the spot touched to chip off, and in this way we made some of the keenest pointed and sharpest arrows that could be fashioned out of stone. Many of these arrows in perfect shape can still be picked up in certain places all over Texas.”
― Herman Lehmann, Nine Years Among the Indians, 1870-1879: The Story of the Captivity and Life of a Texan Among the Indians