Affairs agent would later describe her as “industrious” and a
“person of good character.”
Twice a year, when Lizzie and Ne-kah-e-se-y were young, their
families and the rest of the tribe would pack their few earthly
possessions—clothing, bedding, blankets, utensils, dried meat,
weapons—lash them to horses, and set out on a sacred, two-month
buffalo hunt. When a scouting party spotted a herd, Ne-kah-e-se-y
and the other hunters raced on their horses across the plains, the
hooves pounding the earth like drums, the manes whipping the
riders’ sweating, gleaming faces. A French medical student, who
accompanied the tribe on a hunt in 1840, said, “The race is a
merciless one....Once the bison is reached, the animal tries to
escape in another direction, he doubles to deceive his enemy; then
seeing himself overtaken, he becomes enraged and turns against
his aggressor.”
Ne-kah-e-se-y would coolly draw his bow and arrow, which the
Osage considered more effective than a bullet. When a bison was
fatally wounded, the medical student recalled, “the beast vomits
torrents of blood and falls to its knees before sinking to the
ground.” After the tail was cut off—as a trophy for the conqueror—
nothing was left to waste: the meat was dried, the heart smoked,
the intestines made into sausages. Oils from the bison’s brain
were rubbed over the hide, which was then transformed into
leather for robes and lodge coverings. And still there was more to
reap: horns were turned into spoons, sinews into bowstrings,
tallow into fuel for torches. When an Osage chief was asked why
he didn’t adopt the white man’s ways, he replied, “I am perfectly
content with my condition. The forests and rivers supply all the
calls of nature in plenty.”
The Osage had been assured by the U.S. government that their
Kansas territory would remain their home forever, but before long