The white man slows his horse and nervously enters the village. Suspense fills the air. Indians emerge from their teepees and stand silently. They wonder who this stranger is. They marvel at his manly bravery, are muted by his boldness. They watch as he passes. All is silence. Finally, our hero reaches the chief’s tent. Dismounting, he is greeted by the chief who stands patiently waiting. The men look into each other’s eyes. After a few calm words, the two quietly enter the teepee for a pow wow.
That’s generally the standard version in every movie I have ever seen. Looks good. Very dramatic. Very romantic. Unfortunately, it’s bosh.
How did it really unroll? Here’s what a reporter for the New York Herald encountered when he and a friend entered a Comanche camp one day:
Our advent was duly announced by a drove of snarling, snapping curs, of all sizes, colors and conditions. Two great clubs with which we had provided ourselves beforehand alone prevented a complete rout…Our movements, however, were most cautiously performed by backing in the direction we wished to proceed and thus preventing a dash on our heels. The noise of our approach as developed by the dogs, started a few old squaws who came out of their lodges, and by giving vent to a few gutturals completely silenced the growling storm.
This is how another white man described his entry into another Indian camp:
After making our way through the midst of hundreds of dogs, everyone of which appeared to exert his vocal and explosive powers to the utmost, filling the air with…the most horrid din of snaps, snarls, yelps, growls, and howls…we found a convenient place for lariating our ponies and mule…We then proceeded to the lodge of…the head chief…being escorted by most if not all the dogs in the community, still continuing their deafening clamor, and crowding upon us to the degree that we had to keep them off with clubs.
Man! It’s bad enough facing hundreds of Indians who might pump you full of arrows with just one wrong move. But first you have to fight your way with a club through packs of “snarling, snapping curs.” All this is more than enough for me to ask: “Is this trip really necessary?”
The next Cowboy & Indian movie you watch, look for the dogs and clubs. Bet you don’t see them, but let me know if you do. Romance ends where history begins.
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[...] The Dogs of War, or Move Over Rin-Tin-Tin : Great History Visited 1 times They marvel at his manly bravery, are muted by his boldness. They watch as he passes. All is silence. Finally, our hero reaches the chief’s tent. Dismounting, he is greeted by the chief who stands patiently waiting. … We then proceeded to the lodge of…the head chief…being escorted by most if not all the dogs in the community, still continuing their deafening clamor, and crowding upon us to the degree that we had to keep them off with clubs. … [...] [...]
December 17th, 2009 at 6:18 pm