La Harpe’s Post
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La Harpe’s Post
This book is dedicated to the memory of Harriet Peacher, Lee Good, and Jim Malone. They contributed enormously to this project and, in the process, enriched us all.
La Harpe’s Post A Tale of French-Wichita Contact on the Eastern Plains
GEORGE H. ODELL With appendixes by Marie E. Brown John C. Dixon Lee and Mary Elizabeth Good Eric Menzel Isabella J. Muntz Kenneth L. Shingleton Jr. Joe B. Thompson Frieda Vereecken-Odell Bonnie C. Yates
The University of Alabama Press Tuscaloosa and London
Copyright © 2002 The University of Alabama Press Tuscaloosa, Alabama 35487-0380 All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America The production of this volume was supported in part by a generous grant from the Research and Arts and Sciences Dean’s Of¤ce of the University of Tulsa. Typeface: Galliard ∞ The paper on which this book is printed meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Science–Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48–1984. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Odell, George H. La Harpe’s post : a tale of French-Wichita contact on the eastern plains / George H. Odell ; with appendixes by Marie E. Brown . . . [et al.]. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-8173-1162-9 (pbk.: alk. paper) 1. Bénard de La Harpe, Jean Baptiste, 1683–1765—Journeys—Oklahoma. 2. Bénard de La Harpe, Jean Baptiste, 1683–1765—Relations with Indians. 3. Oklahoma—Discovery and exploration—French. 4. Tawakoni Indians—First contact with Europeans. 5. Wichita Indians—First contact with Europeans. 6. Acculturation—Oklahoma— History—18th century. 7. Oklahoma—Ethnic relations. 8. Frontier and pioneer life—Oklahoma. 9. Indians of North America—Oklahoma—Antiquities. 10. Oklahoma—Antiquities. I. Title. F697 .O4 2002 976.6004′979—dc21 2002001059 British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data available
Contents
List of Illustrations List of Tables Preface
vii xi
xv
Acknowledgments
xix
1. The Land That Knew No European 2. Who Were These Indians?
1
10
3. The New World as Political Pawn
27
4. Industry Presents an Opportunity
41
5. A Testimony to Storage and Cooking
53
6. Teasing Meaning from Bits and Pieces
75
7. What Were Those People Doing There?
101
8. Hypothesizing the Eighteenth Century
130
A PPE N DI X E S 1. Floodplain Geomorphology John C. Dixon 143 2. Feature Data George H. Odell and Eric J. Menzel
155
3. Observations on the Faunal Remains from 34TU65 Bonnie C. Yates and Marie E. Brown with Lee Anna Schniebs 4. Ceramic Techniques Joe B. Thompson 193 5. Lithic Analysis George H. Odell 229 6. Glass Beads from a Protohistoric Wichita Indian Site in Tulsa County, Oklahoma Mary Elizabeth Good and Frieda Vereecken-Odell 271
183
vi
/
Contents
7. Metal Artifacts from the Lasley Vore Site Mary Elizabeth Good, Lee Good, and George H. Odell
281
8. Radiocarbon Dates George H. Odell 291 9. Statistical Analyses George H. Odell 297 10. Pottery Clays Kenneth L. Shingleton Jr. and George H. Odell 11. Small-Sized Debitage Analysis Isabella Muntz 319 Notes
331
References Cited Contributors
339 361
305
Illustrations
1.1. Rosborough Lake site
3
2.1. Wichita and surrounding Indian tribe locations
15
3.1. Early Spanish and French New World centers 3.2. Eastern Oklahoma protohistoric sites 4.1. Lasley Vore site
28 39
46
4.2. Dry screening Ditch Witch back dirt
47
4.3. Lasley Vore site Ditch Witch trenches, excavation units, protohistoric features, and designated areas 49 4.4. Excavation of features after removing topsoil
50
5.1. Average depth of feature types in cm below plow zone 5.2. Average area of feature types in cm
2
61
5.3. North wall pro¤le of feature 29
62
5.4. Four stone slabs at bottom of feature 6 5.5. Pro¤le drawing of feature 1
64
65
5.6. West wall pro¤le drawing of feature 31 5.7. Metate excavated from feature 62
66 67
5.8. Re¤tted metate from feature 62 5.9. Pro¤le drawing of feature 73
61
68 69
5.10. Mussel shell cache under a bison scapula
71
6.1. Deer metapodial awl, deer antler billet, bone bracelet fragment, gar scale gaming piece 78 6.2. Reconstructed ¤ngernail-punctated USTP storage jar 6.3. Ceramic pipe bowl fragments
81
6.4. Antler scraper handle from Kruse site 6.5. Bead types
89
86
80
viii
/
Illustrations
6.6. Trigger guard bow, side piece of musket, broken portion of side piece, butt plate, owl thumb plate escutcheon, trigger, part of rear tang of trigger guard, thumb plate ¤nial, trigger guard bow 95 6.7. Firearm sidepiece showing central monster mask 6.8. Butt plate of a pistol
95
96
6.9. Parts of gun mechanisms
96
6.10. Four iron ax heads
97
6.11. Utilitarian metal objects
98
7.1. Locations of 10 feature clusters at the Lasley Vore site 7.2. Results of Student’s t-tests of A AS results
102
107
7.3. Signi¤cant bivariate divisions of elements in pottery clays 7.4. Distribution of feature types
109
7.5. Individual feature types within each cluster 7.6. Distribution of potsherds
110
112
7.7. Distribution of lithic debris
113
7.8. Distribution of glass trade beads
114
7.9. Distribution of combined faunal remains 7.10. Distribution of bison bones
116
117
7.11. Distribution of deer bones
118
7.12. Distribution of bird bones
119
7.13. Distribution of ¤sh bones
120
7.14. Interpretation of ¤ve principal feature clusters
126
7.15. Schematic representation of feature characteristics 8.1. Tawakoni village in 1719
144
158
A2.2. Flat-bottomed, basin-shaped pits
161
A2.3. Flat-bottomed, straight-sided pits
163
A2.4. Bell-shaped pits
163
A2.5. Irregularly shaped pits
165
A2.6. Hearth pits and hearth dump A2.7. Various feature types A3.1. Marks on bison scapula
128
133
A1.1. Sediment Cores near the Lasley Vore site A2.1. Basin-shaped pits
108
166
167 184
A3.2. Handle designs for bison scapula digging tools
184
Illustrations
/
ix
A4.1. Jar CP-1
203
A4.2. Jar CP-2
204
A4.3. Cowley Plain rim pro¤les
205
A4.4. Cowley Plain rim pro¤les
206
A4.5. Typical handle and node shapes
207
A4.6. Deer Creek Simple Stamped rim pro¤le
208
A4.7. Cowley Plain jar fragment; ¤nger-crimped punctate rim; conjoined pieces of Dear Creek Simple Stamped jar 209 A4.8. Linear incised sherds
210
A4.9. Body sherd at the shoulder of incised bowl or jar A4.10. R im pro¤les of USTI jars and bowls A4.11. USTP jar rim pro¤les
212
216
219
A4.12. Histogram of Lasley Vore Cowley Plain vessel volumes A5.1. Adzes and burins
237
A5.2. Small triangular points A5.3. Large hafted bifaces A5.4. Scrapers
240
A5.5. Scrapers
241
A5.6. Unifacially modi¤ed types A5.7. Gun®ints A5.8. Flake cores
223
238 239
242
243 246
A10.1. Cluster analyses of feature clusters using eight elements
309
A10.2. Cluster analyses of feature clusters using four elements
310
A10.3. Differences between clusters on interval-state technological variables 316 A10.4. Divisions among feature clusters and interval-state technological variables 317
Tables
5.1. Important parameters of Lasley Vore features
57
5.2. Average dimensions of the various feature types 6.1. Vertebrates from site 34TU65
60
76
6.2. Bone tools found in Lasley Vore features
77
6.3. Pottery and daub discovered in various excavation units
79
6.4. Summary of Lasley Vore assemblage by ceramic class
79
6.5. Stone tool types discovered in various excavation units
83
6.6. Lithic raw materials represented in entire Lasley Vore type collection 87 6.7. Colors and styles of glass beads recovered from Lasley Vore site 6.8. Quantities of beads in the various feature types
91
6.9. Metals of European origin discovered in excavation units 6.10. Quantities of metal artifacts in feature types
90 93
94
A1.1. Grainsize distribution of <2 mm fraction of proximal ®oodplain sediments 147 A1.2. Grainsize distribution of 2 mm to 2-micron fraction of proximal ®oodplain sediments 147 A1.3. Grainsize distribution of <2 mm fraction of distal ®oodplain sediments 148 A1.4. Grainsize distribution of 2 mm to 2-micron fraction of distal ®oodplain sediments 148 A1.5. Paleohydrology of Arkansas R iver as re®ected in sediments from proximal ®oodplain location 151 A1.6. Paleohydrology of Arkansas R iver as re®ected in sediments from distal ®oodplain location 151 A3.1. Identi¤ed nonmammalian vertebrates from site 34TU65
185
xii
/
Tables
A3.2. Identi¤ed mammals from site 34TU65
186
A3.3. Identi¤ed mollusks from site 34TU65
187
A3.4. Representation of faunal material by feature type A4.1. Variable and value states for rim data
188
196
A4.2. Variable and value states for decorated body sherds A4.3. Munsell color groups
197
198
A4.4. Proportional representation of sherds in pottery classes
200
A4.5. Proportion of pottery classes and types in clusters and areas
201
A4.6. Chi-square and Fisher’s Exact Test results for intrasite distribution of ceramic types and classes 202 A4.7. Cowley Plain temper size distribution
203
A4.8. Attribute frequency distributions for Cowley Plain rims
207
A4.9. Deer Creek Simple Stamped temper size distribution
210
A4.10. Deer Creek Brushed paste, core, and temper data
211
A4.11. Deer Creek Brushed temper size distribution
211
A4.12. Surface data for Deer Creek Brushed body sherds
211
A4.13. Womack Engraved temper size distribution A4.14. USTI temper size distribution A4.15. USTI vessel forms
213
214
215
A4.16. Attribute frequency distributions for USTI rim sherds A4.17. USTP temper size distribution A4.18. USTP vessel forms
217
217
218
A4.19. Attribute frequency distributions for USTP rims
220
A4.20. Surface data for bone- and sand-tempered sherd
220
A4.21. Surface data for curvilinear-incised sherd
220
A4.22. Surface data for sand-tempered, punctated sherds
221
A4.23. Surface data for sand-tempered, linear-incised sherd A4.24. Surface data for calcite-tempered sherd
221
222
A4.25. Frequencies of plain, incised, and punctated sherds
224
A4.26. Pottery and daub contained in various types of features A4.27. Representation of pottery by feature type
226
227
A5.1. List of types from entire Lasley Vore lithic type collection A5.2. Types, subtypes, and raw materials in entire Lasley Vore lithic assemblage 232
231
Tables
/
xiii
A5.3. Blank forms of nonbifacially worked chipped stone types
247
A5.4. Technological debris classes in utilized and unutilized debris samples 247 A5.5. Extent of breakage in type collection and utilized debris samples 248 A5.6. Complete vs. broken pieces among types or type combinations
249
A5.7. Heat alteration in type collection and utilized debris samples
250
A5.8. Heat-altered and nonheat-altered pieces among certain types A5.9. Dominant abrasive and dislocatory attributes of use-wear A5.10. Combined activities and worked materials
250 251
253
A5.11. Activities of type collection objects in each cluster
254
A5.12. Worked materials of type collection tools from each cluster A5.13. Activities of unretouched debris in each cluster
254
255
A5.14. Worked materials of unretouched debris from each cluster
256
A5.15. Number of retouched polar coordinates in type collection from each cluster 258 A5.16. Percentage of utilized tools in principal debris classes for each cluster 259 A5.17. Use of one or more than one polar coordinate among utilized type collection pieces 260 A5.18. Activity by worked material of cluster 2
260
A5.19. Activity by worked material of cluster 4
261
A5.20. Activity and worked material of cluster 5
262
A5.21. Activity by worked material of cluster 7
262
A5.22. Activity by worked material of cluster 8
263
A5.23. Cluster by six activities or activity combinations
263
A5.24. Cluster by three major worked material divisions
264
A5.25. Prehensile traces within combined type collection and debris samples 265 A6.1. Basic locational information on the European glass beads found on the Lasley Vore site 272 A6.2. Quantities of beads in various feature types
275
A7.1. Locational information on metal artifacts found at Lasley Vore site 282 A7.2. European metal items contained in various types of features
285
A8.1. Provenience units from which radiocarbon samples originated
292
xiv
/
Tables
A8.2. Nature of vegetal samples submitted
292
A8.3. Results of radiocarbon determinations
293
A8.4. Weighted averages and median ages of calibrated distribution A8.5. Calibrated age ranges for samples
293
294
A9.1. Results of regression analyses of feature size by material class A9.2. Frequency of various material classes
298
298
A9.3. Chi-square analyses of functional feature groups
299
A9.4. Factor 1 from principal components analysis of Lasley Vore features for six most abundant feature types 300 A9.5. Amount of objects of various material classes in feature clusters 301 A9.6. Chi-square analyses of ¤ve largest feature clusters
302
A9.7. Multiple analysis of variance results of variables from material classes 302 A10.1. Status of null hypothesis of pottery clays in t-test results of feature clusters 307 A10.2. Elements responsible for signi¤cant divergences between clusters 308 A10.3. Group membership in computer-generated clusters of pottery clays 310 A10.4. Signi¤cance of Wilk’s Lambda for eight elements in discriminant function analysis 311 A10.5. Discriminant functions for eight elements
312
A10.6. Standardized canonical discriminant function coef¤cients
312
A10.7. Discriminant function classi¤cation results for eight elements A10.8. Student’s t-test results on technological variables A10.9. Chi-square results on technological variables A11.1. Percentages and ratio of complete ®akes and shatter A11.2. Cluster 2, small debris
322
A11.3. Cluster 4, small debris
323
A11.4. Cluster 5, small debris
325
A11.5. Cluster 7, small debris
326
A11.6. Cluster 8, small debris
327
313
315 316 321
Preface
This book contains two stories. The ¤rst is a tale of the earliest European, as far as we know, to set foot on the soil of eastern Oklahoma. Although much has been made of this event, the Europeans did not stay long, members of that party never returned, and the close relationships between peoples promised during those days never came to pass. In fact, the event is considerably more important for the information it imparted about the indigenous native inhabitants than for any lasting cultural contact. The second story is a modern archaeological tale relating how stories like the ¤rst one are veri¤ed and embellished. It began through an archaeological salvage project, one of thousands conducted yearly in the United States to capture a modicum of information about our history before it is forever destroyed by road graders, backhoes, and belly loaders. It remained a salvage project through the ¤eldwork and initial inventory, but if it had retained this status subsequently, we would probably not be hearing about it now, because, by its very nature, salvage archaeology rarely involves in-depth analysis once an excavation is terminated. It took time and an academic institution for the analyses reported in this book to be completed—or even contemplated, for that matter. If I just told the contact story, it would amount to a nice, clean narrative, but it would impart little about how we know what we know. So the reader would be unable to evaluate the narrative because he or she would not be sure what evidence it was based on, and I would remain unful¤lled because the process of ¤guring out the answers to historical questions de¤nes why I do archaeology in the ¤rst place. In essence, the archaeological story enlightens the historical one, which explains why the two narratives will be interwoven in the pages that follow. I will employ the investigation of one locale to elucidate the general history of the eastern Plains during the early eighteenth century, a story that I ¤nd extremely compelling. In telling this story I will be going beyond the scope of an ordinary site report, which any account based primarily on one limited geographic location must, by de¤nition, be. I think this subject is of great interest not only to professional archaeologists and historians but
xvi
/
Preface
also to the public at large, and this book is aimed at both audiences. Those who can be satis¤ed with the basic narrative need be concerned only with the ¤rst part. Interested parties who desire the technical information on which the textual arguments are based can refer to the appendixes. I realize that satisfying both audiences is a tall order, but I think the historical questions are so compelling that I am willing to give it a try. The discerning reader will note that my approach is archaeological, not ethnohistorical. I have not delved into original documents of the period, as I had enough to do with the archaeology, but I have employed the fruits of others’ documentary and archaeological labors, a process through which I have concluded that the material remains presented here are the product of protohistoric Wichita-related peoples. Although this may be a misinterpretation, I have run across no evidence that would contradict this assertion, and I have therefore made this association throughout this volume. I feel particularly fortunate that I was given the chance to conduct the salvage operation, with all its warts and pimples, as well as the opportunity to nurture this analysis through several years and people to a point at which we can ¤nally tell a story. This is only one of the stories that could be told, of course. Another clue here, an additional analysis there, some information from a nearby site—any of these could change our perspective on what went on during this period of cultural contact almost three centuries ago. I am painfully aware of the limitations of our database and offer the following scenario as only the best approximation we can come up with at this point in our research. Despite our necessarily tentative conclusions, the studies reported here constitute the most extensive analytical attention ever given to a protohistoric site in the state of Oklahoma. Oh, yes, you might be curious about the title of this book. It relates to a famous ¤rst encounter that occurred in 1719 between Europeans and Native Americans near the banks of the Arkansas R iver, about which this story is written. During his 10-day stay at this place, the French commander La Harpe performed an act that was meant to solidify relationships between his country and the people who inhabited the land he was visiting. Here is an account of this act, according to the diary he left of the journey, which is taken from Ralph A. Smith’s translation of Pierre Margry’s Découvertes et Etablissements des Français dans l’Ouest et dans le Sud de l’Amérique Septentrionale (1614–1754). Its import for modern-day archaeologists will be clari¤ed throughout our narrative: “From the sixth to the tenth of September, I employed M. Du R ivage at engraving the arms of the king and of the company on a post. The day and the year of the taking possession, it was planted in the middle of the village. The savages asked me what it signi¤ed. I said to them that it was to mark the alliance that we had made with them” (Smith 1959:533). Our journey will begin with La Harpe’s, because his journey and the diary he left behind provide insights into eighteenth-century French strategies and colonial aspirations and give us a ®eeting glimpse into Native American cul-
Preface
/
xvii
ture. La Harpe’s adventure is a starting point for an inquiry into the times in which he lived—in fact, it is a springboard into the more vast and comprehensive record that lies in the ground. Although this record has been only imperfectly revealed, it is beginning to help us understand the participants in the drama of multicultural contact that was played out almost three centuries ago.
Acknowledgments
Any project that has been drawn out over 10 years will probably have been in®uenced by a lot of people, and this is certainly true in this case. This book is dedicated to three wonderful avocational archaeologists who did not live to see its completion: Harriet Peacher, who was an intrepid excavator and stayed on to re¤t potsherds and perform the ceramic technological analyses that Ken Shingleton used in his master’s thesis; Jim Malone, who was with us on the original survey of Kimberly-Clark land, inventoried the material, and performed an initial analysis of the microdebitage; and Lee Good, who preserved the metal artifacts for posterity and whose intimate knowledge of guns and frontier societies has helped us identify the various scraps of metal in the collection. We miss them dearly. Lots of folks assisted us in our call to preserve Oklahoma’s history, of which the following is a list of those of whom I have record: Pilar Arias, Susie Blackburn, Chris Brinlee, Mary Ann Bumgarner, Ralph and Rena Caffey, Elsie Dowling, Dr. R ichard Drass, Heather Dreyer, Dennis Fry, Charlette Gifford, Allison Granberry, Kevin Grif¤th, David Hagen, Bill Heffner, Dr. Jack Hofman, Laura Hofmann, Kelli and Monty Johnson, Sylvia Kerr, Peggy Landers, Mike Loy, Dora Malone, George and Mary Marchetti, Hazel Matejec, Ralph McLendon, Bill O’Brien, Linda Penderson, Dr. James Peoples, Dr. Hugh Perry, Mike Slankard, Susan Small, Earl and Donna Stokes, Russ Townsend, Charlie Unger, Frieda Vereecken-Odell, Sunni Wager, David Weichert and family, Steve West, Dr. Michael Whalen, Larry Williamson, and others who showed up to help out for a short time. If I have left anybody out, please accept my apologies. Frieda Vereecken-Odell produced all photos and most of the line drawings except the feature pro¤les, which were drawn by Eric Menzel. Rusty Roberts’s rendition of Wichita lifeways in chapter 8 is a greatly appreciated creative effort. The University of Tulsa Of¤ce of Research supported my studies through four Faculty Research Grants and three Faculty Summer Fellowships, for which I am very grateful. I wish to thank Sirrine Environmental Consultants for inviting me to take on this project in the ¤rst place; State Archaeologist Dr. Robert Brooks and the Oklahoma Archeological Sur-
xx
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Acknowledgments
vey for their advice and encouragement; and the Kimberly-Clark Corporation, whose cooperation while they were busy constructing their Tulsa facility greatly assisted our efforts. Comments on an earlier draft of this manuscript by Don Wyckoff, Marvin Smith, and an anonymous reviewer ameliorated the effort substantially. Finally, I owe a debt to the Wichita tribe, whose knowledge I have not tapped enough, and whose goodwill has served as a silent support throughout this process. I would like nothing better than for this book to be a beginning toward a dialog and a profound understanding of where we all came from.
La Harpe’s Post
1 The Land That Knew No European
FIR ST CONTACT Jean-Baptiste Bénard, Sieur de la Harpe came to the end of his journey in September 1719. It was a year since he and 40 paid laborers had disembarked at Dauphine Island in French Louisiana and conferred with GovernorGeneral Bienville about his commission to establish among the Nasoni, a Caddo tribe, a trading post on the Red R iver near present-day Texarkana. He had dutifully set up that post, but the war that subsequently broke out between France and Spain created unexpected impediments to commerce. La Harpe wished to broaden his horizons. So taking about nine men and 22 horses laden with trade goods, he traveled from the Red R iver northwestward through the Ouachita Mountains and the subsequent ®oodplains and hills, to a region that no European had ever seen—or, at least, recorded. He had come north to establish relations and cement political alliances with friends of his allies—and, while he was at it, to size up the landscape for commercial transactions. We know some particulars about this venture today, because La Harpe left a diary that is housed at the Bibliotheque Nationale in Paris and that has subsequently been published by Pierre Margry (Margry 1886).1 At the end of La Harpe’s journey was a village, or an area, that contained 6,000 Indians (the wording of the account is a little vague on this point), which rapidly grew to 7,000 as news of the encounter spread. This was the principal home of the Tawakoni, one of several loosely associated groups, including the Taovaya/Tawehash, Iscani/Waco, and Wichita proper, that later coalesced to form the Wichita tribe. The Tawakoni were the most powerful of these groups, their village being located on a river known as the Alcansas. The Tawakoni spoke a Caddoan tongue and could easily be communicated with through the Nasoni and Quidehais (Kichai) guides who accompanied La Harpe’s party (Smith 1958–59; Vehik 1992; M. Wedel 1971, 1982). Since La Harpe’s mission was to establish friendly relations, he brought plenty of European items to please the inhabitants. In return, he relates that at a calumet ceremony “they painted my face the color of ultra-marine blue;
2
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Chapter 1
then they threw thirty buffalo robes at my feet, several pieces of rock salt, loaves of tobacco, verdigris, and some bits of ultra-marine. They added to these presents a young slave of eight years of age from the Cancy nation, from whom they had eaten a ¤nger from each hand, a mark that destined him to serve some day as food for these cannibals” (Smith 1959:529). Probably noting the heightened interest with which the news of the Cancy (Apache) slave was received, the chief told La Harpe that he was terribly sorry to have had only one slave to give. Had the French come a month earlier, he would have been able to provide 17 slaves, but these had already been consumed in a public feast. Despite inevitable cultural disjunctures such as this, La Harpe’s sojourn was, on the whole, quite comfortable. During his 10-day visit, the party received the constant attention of the local Indian women, who were especially fascinated by, and solicitous of, the two black men who accompanied the group. La Harpe participated in the calumet ceremony, interacted with dignitaries, and collected information on the local geophysical and political situations. During this period he distributed a variety of gifts, the estimated worth of which was about 1,500 livres (Villiers du Terrage 1934:24). The book you have begun to read is intimately concerned with La Harpe’s visit and with new discoveries that shed light on the conditions that prevailed during this period of contact between Native Americans and Europeans. Let us begin by brie®y investigating the physical environment and local conditions that La Harpe’s party would have encountered in the region of the Tawakoni village they visited—insofar as we can ascertain where that village was located. THE EN V IRONMENT La Harpe’s 1719 trading post on the Red R iver was located not far from the modern town of Texarkana. There is some evidence that it was placed on what is now an oxbow lake, at a locale known as the Rosborough Lake site (41Bw-5).2 This site contains occupational features and burials, as well as artifacts of European and protohistoric Native American origin. In addition, it occurs in close proximity to the probable Nasoni sites of Mitchell and Moores and the Hatchell temple mound (see Figure 1.1). It would have been in the territory of the Kadohadacho, of which the Nasoni formed a constituency. Wedel does not agree on the exact location of the post, but her alternative is not far away (Miroir et al. 1973; M. Wedel 1978). From this location the La Harpe party tramped through the Ouachita Mountains. Dominated by yellow pine, oak, and other trees, this is not easy terrain, and it is where the party got lost on the return trip. North of the Ouachitas the land is ®atter, yet undulating, parkland. It is drained by several rivers and streams, as La Harpe’s diary notes, and presents a variety of landforms and vegetational situations.
Fig. 1. The Rosborough Lake site and its relation to other early historic sites in the area. Taken from M. Wedel 1978:9, Figure 3. (Courtesy Texas Memorial Museum).
4
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Chapter 1
Cherokee Prairie The general area of concern in this book, and the area where La Harpe probably ended up, is the western edge of the Cherokee Prairie Biotic District, or the Prairie Plains. The presence of relatively abundant moisture rendered the prairie ®ora quite luxuriant. Soils formed on shales and limestones supported abundant stretches of tall grasses such as big and little bluestem, Indiangrass, and switchgrass (Blair and Hubbell 1938; Bruner 1931). These grasses grew to impressive heights and were thick enough to hide in, as one of the black men in La Harpe’s party found out. On their return from the Tawakoni village he stayed behind to help their Naouydiche guide and his wife smoke buffalo meat, but the three were set upon by a party of 50 Cancy (Lipan Apache). Hiding himself in the tall grass, he watched as his two Indian friends were dispatched (Smith 1959:535). The Cherokee Prairie is classi¤ed by botanists as subclimax prairie partly because of the invasion of species from nearby woodlands (Bruner 1931:110, 162); in this respect, it is essentially ecotonal between forests and grasslands. It is directly responsive to changes in climate; that is, increased precipitation in a relatively brief period would cause an incursion of trees, whereas drought would cause an expansion of grasses (R ice and Penfound 1959:604– 605). A determining factor in the predominance of grassland in this biome is the ¤nely textured soils formed from limestones and shales, a major difference between this zone and the more arboreal vegetation formed on sandy soils immediately to the west. Today much of this biotic district has the appearance of savanna, but it was described by La Harpe as relatively treeless: “The country is open, and it is only in limited sections that one saw groves of oaks, walnuts, and mulberry trees” (Smith 1959:531). Several scientists have remarked that these savannas were more open in the past than they are today (Bruner 1931:110; Johnson and R isser 1975; R ice and Penfound 1959:593). Changes in vegetation have been caused both by the frequency and intensity of ¤res and by the practice of grazing. In fact, in a comparison of the effects of ground ¤res on oak savanna vs. post oak–blackjack oak forest stands, two botanists concluded that “the recent increase in forested area in the ecotone between forest and prairie is probably a result of heavy grazing which reduces the accumulation of dead grass, thereby reducing the intensity of ¤res when they occur and allowing the woody vegetation to increase” (Johnson and R isser 1975:75; see also Bruner 1931:110, R ice and Penfound 1959).
Osage Savanna These relationships are also true of the other major biotic zone that would have directly in®uenced inhabitants of the Tawakoni village, the Osage Savanna. It lies immediately west of the Prairie Plains, where it coincides with the Sandstone Hills physiographic region, and in Oklahoma it extends from the Kansas border southward to include the Arkansas Lowlands and Ar-
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buckle Mountains. Although technically a parkland, in the uplands this biome is dominated by post oak, blackjack oak, and, to a lesser extent, black hickory, as well as secondary growth of low plants such as dwarf sumac and coral berry. The dominance of arboreal vegetation in this region is dependent on the sandy nature of the soil, because north of the Arkansas R iver, where soils are not as sandy, grasses prevail (Bruner 1931:109; see also Blair and Hubbell 1938). The lowland vegetation along the east-west trending rivers that transect the zone is more mesic than the uplands and is dominated by less drought-tolerant trees such as hackberry, American elm, slippery elm, pin oak, and spotted oak, with lesser occurrences of pecan, green ash, sugarberry, and black walnut (Blair and Hubbell 1938:432; R ice 1965). By the 1820s or 1830s the western edge of the Osage Savanna in central and southern Oklahoma became known as a separate region: the Cross Timbers. Extending southward into Texas past the Brazos and Trinity R ivers, the Cross Timbers became an important and respected feature of the landscape—essentially because of its intractability—that is, it was extremely dif¤cult to get through. This point, and a nice description of the landscape, was proffered in 1832 by author Washington Irving, who, having just returned to America after living 17 years in foreign lands, had organized an equestrian excursion through parts of eastern and central Oklahoma starting at Fort Gibson: The Cross Timber is about forty miles in breadth, and stretches over a rough country of rolling hills, covered with scattered tracts of postoak and black-jack; with some intervening valleys, which, at proper seasons, would afford good pasturage. It is very much cut up by deep ravines, which, in the rainy seasons, are the beds of temporary streams. . . . Unfortunately, we entered it too late in the season. The herbage was parched; the foliage of the scrubby forests was withered; the whole woodland prospect, as far as the eye could reach, had a brown and arid hue. The ¤res made on the prairies by the Indian hunters, had frequently penetrated these forests, sweeping in light transient ®ames along the dry grass, scorching and calcining the lower twigs and branches of the trees, and leaving them black and hard, so as to tear the ®esh of man and horse that had to scramble through them. I shall not easily forget the mortal toil, and the vexations of ®esh and spirit, that we underwent occasionally, in our wanderings through the Cross Timber. It was like struggling through forests of cast iron. (Irving 1956:124–125) Before the advent of modern transportation systems, the Cross Timbers constituted an effective barrier to human mobility. Although its densest stands were only about 5–30 miles across, the thick, stubborn scrub vegetation, essentially unoccupied, provided a buffer between the nomadic bisonhunting western Plains tribes and the more sedentary, partially horticultural
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eastern Caddoan tribes. By the mid-nineteenth century two U.S. Army garrisons—Forts Arbuckle and Washita—had been established on either side of the Cross Timbers to keep the peace on the frontier and to protect the more settled constituents of the population (Wyckoff 1984). More than any other element of the Southern Plains landscape, the Cross Timbers constituted the boundary between the western plains and the eastern woodlands. With respect to the Tawakoni village that La Harpe encountered, the Cross Timbers would have impeded contact with Plains nomads such as the Apache and Comanche to the west and southwest, but not with eastern tribes such as the Osage. As we will see, the lack of such an impediment in the east contributed to the abandonment of the Wichita tribal homeland in the middle of the eighteenth century.
Animals Mammals that inhabited this region at the time of Euro-Indian contact are all familiar to us today, though several species no longer roam wild.3 Undomesticated bison, elk, and antelope were available in some areas well into historic times but have been forced out of the area since then (Shaw and Lee 1997). Bison have been reintroduced in the state and now run relatively unfettered on the Wichita and Tall Grass Prairie Preserves and a few smaller tracts. Economically the most important of the mammals to human populations was the bison, as Plains-inhabiting tribes on either side of the Cross Timbers devoted major portions of their yearly subsistence rounds to its pursuit. Groups inhabiting the Osage Savanna and Cherokee Prairie also occasionally exploited other large plains-inhabiting creatures such as elk and antelope, as well as forest and forest-edge mammals such as raccoon, opossum, and deer. La Harpe thought he saw a unicorn. Unfortunately for the truth of his narrative, he never actually witnessed a live one at close quarters. The sole specimen he did see nearby had already been de®eshed by a band of Naouydiches and was hanging on a spit being smoked (Lewis 1924:341; Smith 1959:385; M. Wedel 1971:60–61 n. 4). By his description of its size, it was most likely an elk, though it could have been a large antelope.4
Environmental Stability The situation described in this book occurred about 280 years ago. When viewed from the perspective of the global environment, this is not a long time, and it is probable that, except for urban sprawl and the increase in arboreal vegetation noted above, little environmental change has occurred. Indeed, Washington Irving’s descriptions of the Cross Timbers as they appeared in 1832 are strikingly similar to the way this region looks today (Hall 1982:391–392). Projecting this environment another century into the past would likewise document little change. How much further back we could project modern vegetational and climatic patterns is largely a matter of conjecture, since few relevant studies
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have been undertaken in the region. The pollen analyses that have been conducted con¤rm the existence of a long, relatively warm and arid period (the Altithermal) on the Southern Plains from about 7000 to 3000 b.c. (Albert 1981; Bryant and Holloway 1985). This is probably the time when the Osage Savanna developed most of its vegetational characteristics and expanded to its current boundaries or beyond (Wyckoff 1984:19). A later shift to a drier climate about 1,000 years ago has also been detected in pollen and land snail sequences from a series of rock shelters in the northern Osage Savanna (Hall 1982). Since the duration of this change was only a few hundred years, its effects on the landscape were probably minimal. L A HAR PE’S R ETUR N La Harpe and his men commenced their return to the Red R iver on September 13, 1719. Unfortunately, they no longer had the services of a guide, as the Kichai had already departed and their Nasoni companion had stayed behind for a while to pursue the affections of one of the local women. So when the party attained “the northwest branch of the Ouachitas R iver” (Smith 1959:534)—probably the Kiamichi, and certainly at the foothills of the Ouachita Mountains—they feared progressing further without a guide. At this point La Harpe sent some men back to the village to procure additional provisions and, they hoped, their amorous companion. La Harpe’s party waited in the Ouachita foothills for two weeks. During the day the men gathered persimmons, observed unicorns (at a distance, of course), and “saw quantities of deer” (Smith 1959:534). They were afraid to pursue game very far from the trenches they had dug for their protection, so for sustenance they were forced to dispatch one of their horses. Having lost one animal they gained another, however, as the English dog that had departed the party on the voyage north returned. Strangely, she did not seem to recognize anybody and refused to eat. The same day, the contingent that had retraced their steps to the Tawakoni village also returned. They had failed to separate their Nasoni colleague from the object of his affections, but they did procure the services of a Naouydiche brave and his wife.5 As related previously, their new guides were soon slaughtered by a party of Lipan Apache bison hunters. La Harpe and his companions subsequently spent October 3–9 lost in the mountains, where all their horses died before the group regained the trail. The exhausted and ravenously hungry men arrived back among the Caddo on October 13, 1719 (Lewis 1924:349; Smith 1959:534–535). La Harpe’s adventures in North America continued, with one short sojourn in France, until ill health forced him to return to Europe for good in February of 1723. While in America he undertook a variety of tasks, including a surveillance of the Texas coast (the last French vessel to do so); a chase of deserting Swiss troops (which failed); and a commission to relinquish Pensacola to the Spanish (which, for the French, succeeded all too well).
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After returning to France, La Harpe spent a substantial amount of time trying to get back to America, but he and his acquaintances found themselves out of favor in the corridors of power, and he never again procured a commission of any value. On his second sojourn in America, La Harpe attempted to visit the Tawakoni village one more time. Although the avowed goal of this excursion was the usual one of making alliances and providing information on the timber and mineral resources along the river, the more immediate object of attention was a huge emerald that was rumored to exist somewhere in the present state of Arkansas. For these tasks La Harpe commissioned 18 men and, at the Yazoo R iver, took on a well-known engineer and geometrician, Dumont de Montigny, who would know how to cut up the emerald once they found it. The party progressed as far as a large promontory that they called French Rock, or Big Rock, opposite which now stands Little Rock, Arkansas. Needless to say, none of these rocks was an emerald. Subsequently, La Harpe’s men became too sick to travel farther and the party was forced to turn back (Villiers du Terrage 1934:25–33). If you stay at the Peabody Hotel in Little Rock today, you may notice a “La Harpe Room.” It is so named because the townspeople regard him as the founder of their town, even though nobody from that party ever settled there. While La Harpe was in the Tawakoni village, he distributed an estimated 1,500 livres worth of trade goods to the Indians. If found today, these would indicate a French—or at least a European—presence in the area. Unfortunately, portable material items, particularly highly valued ones, may be transported by their owners to other encampments and are likely to be objects of subsequent trade among villages. In addition, although La Harpe may have been the only European in the vicinity at this time, Indians have also been known to trade in exotic commodities. Indeed, the last day La Harpe’s party spent at the Tawakoni village, a Chickasaw trader from the Yazoo region, who apparently did not expect to see Europeans, showed up with merchandise (Smith 1959:533). Thus, if one were to search for the exact location of the Tawakoni village that La Harpe visited, he or she would be ill-advised to use trade goods as irrefutable evidence, as these would ultimately have been distributed over a far wider area than the site itself. From La Harpe’s account, there is only one item that, if found, would unambiguously indicate the existence of that speci¤c village. As quoted from Margry, just before the French party left the Tawakoni, M. Du R ivage carved the arms of the king and the company on a post, which was planted in the center of the village (Smith 1959:533). Since this is the only known item of unique origin that would have remained in the village, ¤nding the post Du R ivage carved is the only way to conclusively establish the identity of that village. Unfortunately for history, the perishability of wood in eastern Oklahoma renders the likelihood of ¤nding this post, and subsequently recognizing it as such, next to zero. The remainder of this book will relate the story of one site that is a can-
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didate for having been the Tawakoni village La Harpe visited. It is the nature of archaeology that we will probably never know for sure exactly where this village lay, but this point is not very important. What we have found de¤nitely dates to the period of La Harpe’s visit and promises to tell us more about the lifeways of the people who lived there than any contemporary archaeological site yet investigated in this region. And as with any good site, it raises more questions than it answers. But do these titillating yet incomplete pieces of the human puzzle not represent the force that drives us to contemplate archaeology in the ¤rst place?
2 Who Were These Indians?
The ¤rst known Europeans to venture into this region encountered a village of Tawakoni Indians, a subgroup whose name is not a household word today. Let us investigate these people, assuming a broad perspective that focuses on general lifeways and origins. We will begin by describing seminal events in the formation of the modern state of Oklahoma, placing the Wichita into that historical scenario. Then we will consider the Wichita as they existed 280 years ago, ¤lling in their social landscape by describing their neighbors and the relationships of these people to the Wichita.1 ESTA BLISHMENT OF PR ESENT-DAY OK L A HOM A The discovery of the Americas by Europeans ushered in new modes of relationships for the Indians, though these modes were usually not immediately realized. Incursions of the Spanish and French onto Indian land, recounted in greater detail in the next chapter, continued sporadically throughout the sixteenth through eighteenth centuries. By the time the Americans obtained the territory of the future Oklahoma as part of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803, Europeans had been in contact with the Indians of south-central North America for more than two and a half centuries. Having bought this immense parcel of land, the Americans under President Jefferson proceeded to explore it, initially establishing the Louisiana Territory with headquarters in St. Louis in 1805. Administration of the land that was to become Oklahoma was subsequently changed to Missouri Territory; then, as Missouri became a state, most of Oklahoma reverted to Arkansaw Territory in 1819. The Lewis and Clark Expedition was immediately commissioned to explore land to the north, while other parties explored the south. These included the Red R iver Expedition under Capt. R ichard Sparks and the Rocky Mountain Expedition under Capt. Zebulon Pike, both in 1806. They were followed by the Sibley and Long Expeditions in 1811 and 1819, and by the scienti¤c peregrinations of English botanist Thomas Nuttall, also in 1819. Well before these post-purchase expeditions, French coureurs de bois and
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Long-Knives, American trappers and traders from the East, had traveled throughout western North America living amongst the Indians. In the early nineteenth century, trading posts were established in eastern Oklahoma by Frenchmen Pierre Chouteau and Joseph Bogy and Kentuckian Nathaniel Pryor (Foreman 1942:6–7; Gibson 1981:28–35). By 1819 several families from the East had taken up residence in the Red R iver Valley near its con®uence with the Kiamichi and, according to Nuttall, were farming the land with considerable success (Nuttall 1980:178). American policy was keeping up with settlement, though just barely. Fort Smith was established on the Arkansas R iver in 1817 as an outpost to regulate and protect American occupation of the frontier. By 1824 settlement had progressed to the point that Fort Smith was joined by Forts Gibson and Towson, both in present-day Oklahoma, and the line between these two was considered the western boundary of Arkansas Territory. Camps Holmes and Washita were also built at this time, and ten years later Fort Coffee, west of Fort Smith, and Camp Arbuckle, at the mouth of the Cimarron R iver, were established to control contraband and protect settlers. In 1828 the American government essentially snatched the 40-mile-wide strip of what is now Oklahoma from Arkansas in an attempt to provide western land for Indians being relocated from the eastern United States (Gibson 1981:39–41, 110–111). Negotiations for the removal of eastern North American Indian tribes had been authorized by the United States government since 1804, and many tribal members had already moved to Indian Territory by the time of forced removal, known as the Trail of Tears. Eventually 60 tribes were relocated to Indian Territory, which for the Indians continued to shrink as portions of their land were made available for settlement to non-Indians. As their favored method of disposition, the government concocted the land run, the most famous of which occurred in 1889 (Foreman 1942:238; Gibson 1981:41–43). Land runs were chaotic affairs and ripe for abuse, which explains why one of the last land openings, that of the Kiowa, Comanche, and Apache Reservations in 1901, was not a run at all but a lottery. It appears to have been favorably received and generally perceived as fair—for those non-Indians who partook, of course (West 1982:31). The establishment of Indian Territory had a devastating effect on both the newcomers and the indigenous people. The most famous removal story concerns the Trail of Tears of the Cherokee, who lost more than 4,000 of the original 16,000 voyagers along the way; the other “civilized tribes” were similarly devastated. The shrinkage of promised Indian land and the general policy of American law enforcement as protecting the white rather than the Indian continually eroded the morale and political position of the tribes. The American Civil War split some of the tribes, such as the Cherokee, and the depredations of war laid waste large tracts of Indian land. The lot of the nonindigenous settlers in Oklahoma was certainly not an easy one, but as a group they saw their lands increase; the Indians were not so fortunate. During this time the Wichita were also faring poorly. Although this tribe
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had inhabited land in Oklahoma since at least the beginning of recorded history in this area, by 1834 its range was well to the south of its previous range; that is, most Wichita groups were in Texas. One of their most northerly extensions was the Granite Mountains just north of the Red R iver, where Henry Dodge’s expedition in that year reported encountering a Wichita village. The Wichitas’ experience in Texas was not a happy one, as white Texans did not exactly welcome them with open arms. In addition, the Indians suffered from numerous European diseases, a condition that had affected all North American Indian tribes to some extent ever since the arrival of Columbus (Crosby 1972; Dobyns 1983; Ramenofsky 1987; Smith 1989). Both of these problems seriously depleted their numbers. A Wichita reservation was established on the Brazos R iver in Texas in 1854 but was abandoned because of local hostility, and in 1859 the tribe was moved to the Washita R iver in Oklahoma. Unfortunately, the American Civil War broke out soon after that, and the American government could not offer protection to the Indians or deliver on its promises. The Wichita consequently departed for southern Kansas, where they stayed until relocated back to Indian Territory in 1867 (Gunnerson and Gunnerson 1988:19–20). At present their tribal headquarters are in Anadarko in Caddo County, Oklahoma, where they maintain a modern, state-of-the-art museum and interpretive center of their cultural heritage. Unfortunately, their language is almost defunct. Linguist David Rood, who collected his data from 1965 to 1967, remarked that “in 1994 the language was spoken rarely, even by those who were able to do so” (Rood 1996:580). THE W ICHITA The Wichita are a Caddoan-speaking tribe whose closest relatives are the Pawnee. Linguistic differences between the two groups suggest impressionistically that they separated from one another about 1,200–1,500 years ago (Parks 1979b:205). When La Harpe visited the region in 1719 the Wichita as an entity did not exist, although these people did have a word, quiraquirit, that referred to Wichita speakers (Wedel 1981:28). La Harpe visited a cultural unit known as the Tawakoni, or Touacaro, one of a concatenation of linguistically and culturally similar entities that typically occupied paired villages located in the river valleys of Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas. Each of these units possessed economic viability, and certain of them would get together periodically for social reasons or seasonally to hunt bison. Karl Schlesier describes the situation particularly well: “For much of the period, we have to think in terms of large conglomerates of loosely associated, far®ung populations, connected by a common language or dialects of a common language, often including participants of different language stocks, bound together by overarching national symbols which gave them the power
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and security of a common tradition and history. We have to think of large confederacies much like those observed by early European travelers in eastern North America” (Schlesier 1994:xxi; see also Harper 1953:269). The situation Schlesier described has been borne out by subsequent archaeological and ethnohistoric research among several North American groups. For example, even the Natchez, once regarded as a strict hierarchical chiefdom in the early eighteenth century, has recently been reinterpreted as having been a loose confederation of autonomous villages with weak central authority (Lorenz 1997). Groups of this nature that La Harpe contacted along the Arkansas lost much of their population and their economic viability as a result of predation and disease, and were forced to coalesce into the amalgamated tribal form now known as Wichita. The names and number of units which, at the time of La Harpe’s visit, partook of Wichita af¤liation are incompletely known. Distinguishing ethnicity from the extant ethnohistoric literature has proved to be an inexact endeavor for several reasons. First, the Europeans who recorded their impressions were often forced to communicate through interpreters, a situation that was ripe for misunderstanding. In fact, Mildred Wedel invoked just such a situation in explaining the fate of an Indian named Turco, who accompanied Coronado to Quivira in search of gold in 1541 and who ultimately paid with his life (Wedel 1982a). Second, many of the Native American groups that existed during the sixteenth through eighteenth centuries were never visited by literate people who wrote about them. Any information we have gained about them comes secondhand and is therefore less than totally reliable. Third, geopolitical units like these are often ®uid, with changing af¤liations, such that alliances (and hence perceived ethnicity) at any point in time may differ from af¤liations at other times. And, ¤nally, our modern mentality induces us to compartmentalize past peoples into mutually exclusive units— in this case, into Wichita and non-Wichita. The process of ¤ssioning and ®uidity of social groups makes de¤nitive classi¤cation dif¤cult, even when we recognize units such as the Kichai or Skidi, which existed on the periphery of larger entities—in these cases, the Wichita and Pawnee. These problems have not silenced ethnohistorians, of course, but cultural designations of groups that existed during this period must be couched in a discourse of uncertainty. As a whole, people of Wichita af¤liation were called by the French who visited them “Panis,” “Paniassa,” “Panis noirs,” “Panipiqués,” or “Mentous” (Gunnerson and Gunnerson 1988:17; Vehik 1992:321; Wedel 1979, 1981:26). These terms recall the Wichitas’ more distant association with the Pawnee further north, and some of the terms refer to their widespread custom of tattooing. Early eighteenth-century maps that contain these names show a distribution concentrated on the Arkansas R iver and its tributaries. Of the Wichita-associated bands that existed in La Harpe’s time, most information exists on the Tawakoni (Touacara), Ousitas (Wichita proper), Taovayas (Toayas or Tawehash), and Ascani (Iscani/Waco).
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Other af¤liated tribes about which we know relatively little are the Kichai, Honecho, Adeco, Quataquois, and Caumuche (Vehik 1992:320–321; M. Wedel 1981:28). Despite their individuality, all of these peoples engaged in similar customs and economic practices. They lived in semipermanent villages consisting of arbors, storage facilities, and characteristic pointedly dome-shaped grass houses that held 8–10 people. During early historic times they forti¤ed at least certain villages with a surrounding stockade and ditch. A good example of this practice is the Taovayas Spanish Fort on the Red R iver, encountered by the Spaniard Parrilla and some of his men on the occasion of their ignominious defeat by inhabitants of this village and their allies in 1759 (Harper 1953; Newcomb and Field 1967:323; Welt¤sh 1965:462). These villages served as bases for agricultural activities involving maize, calabashes (gourd and/or squash), beans, and tobacco (and, in later years, cantaloupe and watermelon). The products were stored in granaries and underground caches. Women tended the ¤elds, which were frequently praised for their extensiveness and the bounty of their harvest, and they did so without the bene¤t of irrigation. Horticulture was primarily a spring and summer activity that produced some surplus for trade, and it remained important up to the reservation period. Women also gathered wild vegetal products such as nuts and persimmons when available. The bison hunt, which provided substantial economic bene¤t to the group, was primarily a fall and winter activity, though a smaller summer hunt was frequently organized. The products of the hunt provided clothing and items for trade, the meat being preserved by drying or smoking it. The introduction of the horse into Wichita society increased mobility markedly and made bison easier to procure, though it does not appear to have seriously affected agriculture, which was a woman’s activity. Judging from accounts of deer wandering freely through Wichita villages, by the nineteenth century deer were not hunted very much; some scholars claim that ¤sh were not eaten at all (Gunnerson and Gunnerson 1988; Newcomb and Field 1967:310–314; Wedel 1979, 1982b). Wichita bands were organized matrilineally and matrilocally, and each domestic structure probably contained one extended family unit or the equivalent thereof. Political organization was relatively weak, as the tribes formed no permanent confederacies, nor did they recognize any authority higher than that of the tribe (John 1975:214). NEIGHBOR ING TR IBES A cultural group is de¤ned not only by what it is but also by what it is not. To better comprehend the early-eighteenth-century Wichita and their situation in the Southern Plains, let us take a brief look at contemporary tribes that articulated with them (see Figure 2.1).
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Fig. 2.1. Locations of the Wichita and surrounding Indian tribes.
To the South and North: Caddoan Cultures The Caddo At the time La Harpe entered the Southeast, at least 25 distinct Caddo groups occupied northern Louisiana, southwestern Arkansas, and northeastern Texas. La Harpe established his post among the Upper Nasoni, a tribe that lived in close proximity to other Caddo peoples and was allied with the Kadohadacho Confederacy. Located on the Red R iver in extreme northeastern Texas and southwestern Arkansas, this group also included the Kado-
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hadacho proper, Nanatsoho, and Upper Natchitoches. Two other loosely tied Caddo leagues existed: the Natchitoches, located down the Red R iver near the modern town of that name, and the Hasinai on the Neches and Angelina R ivers, which consisted of the Hainai, Anadarko, Nabadachos, Neches, Nacogdoches, Nacachaus, Naconos, Nabitis, Nasayayas, Cachaes, Nechauis, Lower Nasonis, Nadacos, and Nacaos. In the same area existed independent Caddo polities such as the Eyeish (Ais), Adaes, and Yatasi (Bolton 1987:30–32; Newcomb 1961:280–282; Perttula 1992:6; Swanton 1942:12). The Caddo lived in small, dispersed villages and hamlets. The houses with which we associate them most ¤rmly were very similar to the round, grass, beehive-shaped Wichita houses and were communally built and inhabited. They also built square or rectangular log houses with grass-thatched roofs (Grif¤th 1954:99–102; Newkumet and Meredith 1988:36–37; Swanton 1942:148–154). The village temple looked like a house, only larger. Other dwellings were erected as ramadas, for the captains and their retainers to use when the chief called them to a meeting. The Caddo fashioned some of the ¤nest pottery, basketry, and mats in North America; these crafts were subsequently lost after European trade goods became prevalent. Comparing nonperishable items such as pottery preserved on archaeological sites, the Caddo appear to have spent considerably more time perfecting the craft than the Wichita. This is witnessed in a greater variety of surface decoration, more precise execution of decorative elements such as burnishing, slip, and incision, and ¤ner and more consistent sizes of paste among Caddo pots (Grif¤th 1954:103–107; Krieger 1946; Perttula 1996; Swanton 1942:157–158; Wiegers 1985). The Caddo were sedentary farmers who used picks, hoes, and digging sticks to grow maize, beans, squash, tobacco, and sun®ower seed. They gathered nuts, greens, and tubers; ¤shed; maintained orchards of fruit and nut trees; and hunted bear, deer, and smaller mammals. Their proclivities toward bison hunting increased once the horse was introduced, inducing some authors to characterize their economy as intermediate between the southeastern agriculturists and the Plains buffalo hunters (Hudson 1976:279; see also Bolton 1987:92–106 and Newcomb 1961:292–294). Despite a taste for bison, the Caddo spent more of their time than the Wichita on sedentary activities such as crafts and agriculture (they usually managed to harvest two corn crops per summer). Sexual division of labor was practiced, and men performed tasks such as preparing and cultivating the gardens and making certain equipment, tasks that would have been beneath the dignity of Wichita men (Newcomb 1961:298). As among the Wichita, marital residence was matrilocal. This trait appears to have some time depth, judging from pottery design homogeneity existing among eight late prehistoric archaeological sites in the Neches Valley (Gilmore 1973). Descent was matrilineal and organized into clans. During the last decade of the nineteenth century, 10 gentes existed, probably an amal-
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gam from the individual tribal subunits that had resisted coalescence (Bolton 1987:73; Mooney 1896:1093). The hereditary spiritual and, in many cases, civil leader of the confederacy was the xinesi. The civil leader of each of the tribes was the caddi, a lifelong hereditary position. In addition, the Caddo possessed civil servants called canahas, chayas, and tammas, who served in various administrative capacities; shamans overseen by the high priest; medicine men, or conna; and nonhereditary war chiefs chosen on appropriate occasions. This is a considerably more elaborate hierarchy of duties and of¤ces than existed among the Plains tribes (Bolton 1987:74–86; Grif¤th 1954:58–67; John 1975:214; Newcomb 1961:303; Newkumet and Meredith 1988:53–57; Perttula 1992:16–17; Swanton 1942:170– 173; Wyckoff and Baugh 1980). To summarize, Caddo cultural practices were quite similar to those of the Wichita, since many centuries ago these peoples had belonged to the same group. Their house styles were almost identical, and social organization, agricultural practices, and geopolitical distribution were also recognizably similar. Yet at least a millennium had passed since the groups ¤ssioned, and the environments in which they lived differed suf¤ciently that several cultural distinctions are evident. The Caddo hunted buffalo less than the Wichita did, with a corresponding emphasis on agriculture; their settled villages possessed a more equitable division of labor (though perhaps the Wichita males’ arduous life on the hunt made up for their comparative leisure in camp); they had a much more hierarchical authority structure; and they possessed a slightly different kinship system. The Pawnee In the distant past a part of the Caddo tribe that later became the Wichita, Pawnee, and Arikara separated from their woodland-adapted relatives, ultimately creating a phalanx of Caddoan-speaking Indians that migrated up the eastern side of the Plains to present-day South Dakota (Gunnerson and Gunnerson 1988:21; Wedel 1936:102).2 This section focuses on the Pawnee, with whom the Wichita had more contact than with the more distant Arikara of the Middle Missouri Valley. The Arikara ¤ssioned to form a separate group within the last six centuries, being closely related to the Skidi Pawnee, with whom they share many of their customs (Dorsey 1904:1–2; Hollow and Parks 1980:80; Parks 1979b:205; Rogers 1990:24). Pawnee social groups have been divided into the Skidi and the Chauis, Kitkehahkis, and Pitahauerats, the latter three usually traveling together and commonly referred to as the South Bands. Coinciding with this division, Pawnee languages in historic times were spoken in two dialects: Skidi and South Bands (Hyde 1951:57; Parks 1979a). The Skidi may have arrived earlier in the region than the other bands and considered them intruders, thus initiating a social separation that lasted until well into historic times (Wedel 1936:95). In the late prehistoric period, the Skidi and South macrobands ex-
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ploited different territories, each procuring necessary protein and chert at distinct locales along the way and returning some of both to their base camps (Holen 1991). In the historic period the Pawnee were the westernmost agricultural group on the Plains. They maintained gardens where they grew several varieties of maize, beans, and squash. They also exploited a large range of wild foods, including wild potato, wild plum, chokecherry, ground bean, cucumber root, wild turnip, and artichoke (Wedel 1936:57–61). Hunting was equally signi¤cant for Pawnee economic life—particularly bison hunts, which, as with the Wichita, were held twice a year. This seasonal pattern appears to have some antiquity, dating at least to the late seventeenth century, when horses were scarce or nonexistent among the Pawnee (Roper 1992). When in sedentary mode, the Pawnee lived in large villages of substantial circular earth lodges, a type of structure different from the Caddo and Wichita grass houses. This appears to have been a distinctive Central Plains adaptation, as the Arikara also lived in earth lodges. A typical earth lodge would hold 30–50 people. There is strong evidence that the prehistoric predecessors of the historic Pawnee inhabited earth lodges of a square or rectangular shape, which later developed into the circular variety (Wedel 1936:99; Welt¤sh 1965:14). In later prehistory the Pawnee reacted to external aggression by erecting earthen walls and ditches around their villages (Wedel 1936:54–55; Wiegers 1985:42). By the nineteenth century the individual South Bands appear to have inhabited one or two villages apiece, although the existence of more than one sacred bundle per village suggests that more villages had existed at one time. The Skidi inhabited more and smaller villages than did the other three groups (Parks 1979a:234–235). As among the Wichita, descent was matrilineal. Marriage was endogamous and within the village. It would involve a bestowal of gifts from the courtier to the bride-to-be’s family, though these do not appear to have been regarded as a bride price (Grinnell 1891:276). After marriage a Pawnee man would relocate to his wife’s family’s lodge, though his true home was his mother’s and sisters’ lodge. Political hierarchy was weak, the village chiefs wielding most political power. Respected Pawnee women were frequently consulted in matters of importance to the society (Grinnell 1891:281). Even at this level, however, little authority was exerted, as the chiefs ruled by example and suggestion rather than coercion. On the other hand, Pawnee ceremonial life was quite elaborate, serving as the theological, philosophical, and artistic focus of the community (Welt¤sh 1965:6–20). The cultural contiguity between the Pawnee and Wichita, caused by their common ancestry and subsequent contact, is unmistakable. The Caddoan social heritage of matrilocality and matrilineality remained intact in both groups, and both maintained an elaborate ceremonial life. Both followed a dual pattern of maize/beans/squash horticulture and annual or biannual bison hunts, supplemented by regular hunting of smaller mammals and gath-
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ering of wild foodstuffs. The political structure of either society was nonhierarchical, authority coming from within the system (that is, personal sense of responsibility) rather than from the willful exercise of power. House types, however, were different, the Wichita retaining the Caddo-style grass hut, while the Pawnee built large earth lodges.
To the East: The Osage Relations between the Wichita and tribes to their north and south were largely amicable, as the Wichita were of the same linguistic and genetic stock as the Pawnee and Caddo. The situation was decidedly different with their neighbors to the east, the Osage. Osage lifeways in the pre-European period are not particularly well known, for their customs were transcribed into writing relatively late, after a substantial amount of contact-induced cultural change had already taken place. The Osage were a Siouan people who, in the seventeenth century, inhabited western Missouri and eastern Kansas. Like the Caddoan peoples, the Osage aggregated in villages along major watercourses. Their houses were long or domed and covered with rush mats, from which they also made bedding, baskets, and other objects (Chapman 1946:45–46; Nuttall 1980:216; Wedel 1961:126). There is some evidence that residence patterns changed during the contact period from essentially linear villages to Plainsoriented circular camps (Bailey 1973:13; Wiegers 1985:54). In this prairie environment the people cultivated maize, beans, and squash and gathered wild foods. Natural resources of these “Children of the Middle Waters,” as Osage historian John Joseph Mathews described them, were plentiful: “For food they had abundant white-tail deer, wild turkeys, prairie chickens, wapiti, buffalo, skunk, ¤sh, lotus, pawpaws, haws, grapes, persimmons, hickory nuts, walnuts, hackberries, pecans, and acorns, besides their cultivated crops of varicolored maize, squashes, beans, and pumpkins, and do, the wild potato” (Mathews 1961:29). The Osage also hunted bison, a practice that intensi¤ed after horses were introduced into the culture. The horse and subsequent changes in subsistence priorities, European pressure from the east, the slave trade, control of traf¤c in guns, and competition for territory combined to intensify warfare and raiding along the eastern edge of the Plains. In these situations the Osage were at odds with virtually all of their neighbors at one time or another (see Lottinville in Nuttall 1980:197 n. 14). They were ultimately successful in this competition and by the late eighteenth century had expanded their territory primarily southward and westward into Oklahoma and Arkansas (Bailey 1973:1–2, 33– 42; Wiegers 1985:46–49), largely at the expense of the Wichita. Kinship relations among the Osage are complex. By 1921 ethnologist La Flesche counted 24 patrilineal clans, divided into moieties: the Tsi-Sho, or Sky People; and the Hunkah, or Land/Water People. Marriage was exogamous to one’s moiety. Traditionally ¤ve permanent villages existed, each with its own chiefs, religious leaders, and complete representation of clans. Kin-
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ship was the Omaha type, in which parallel cousins were regarded as siblings (Bailey 1973:10, 16–19; La Flesche 1921; Mathews 1961:31). Residence patterns, when they were recorded, were matrilocal, but this does not ¤t the traditional Siouan pattern of patrilocality. This disjuncture has induced some scholars to postulate a residential change during the contact period, which may have occurred as a response to new initiatives of raiding for slaves and horses. That is, raiding would have been conducted by related males. If residence structure was patrilocal, an entire clan might be exterminated in an unsuccessful raid, whereas if residence was matrilocal, the losses would be spread around more than one clan. To be organized matrilocally would therefore reduce this kind of social risk (Bailey 1973:16, 43–44, 96–97; Wiegers 1985:55, 193). Osage political structure may also have been altered by the rapidly changing realities related to contact. Traditionally a council of “Little-Old-Men,” or elders known for their wisdom, ran an Osage village. Each village had two chiefs, one from each moiety, of whom the peace chief, or tsi-zhu, was in charge. During contact times the tsi-zhu rose to power, based on personal prestige, prowess in raiding and warfare, and relationships to the ever more prominent slave and fur trades. The tribal council, in turn, developed into an advisory body for the chief (Bailey 1973:44; Wiegers 1985:56– 57, 107).
To the West: The Apache The Plains bison hunters immediately to the west of the Wichita in the protohistoric period were the Apache. Wichita and Apache competed for the same resources, a situation that contributed to the generally unfriendly relations between them. Apacheans are Athabascan peoples related linguistically to peoples of the Arctic and Subarctic regions of North America (for example, Chipew yan, Slave, Dogrib, Chilcotin). Several Apachean subtribes exist and are often divided into an eastern (Jicarilla, Lipan, Kiowa Apache) and a western (Chiricahua, Mescalero, Navaho, San Carlos) group. These aggregates were probably rather ®uid, and they have been dif¤cult to correlate with speci¤c ethnohistoric entities. By the sixteenth century, differences among Apachean subtribal units in both language and lifestyle appear to have been small (Gunnerson 1974:152–153; Hoijer 1938; Perry 1991:6–7). Ethnohistorians generally agree that Athabascans who eventually became Apache migrated southward, and that migrations occurred within the last 2000–3000 years. However, the precise dates and frequency of these migrations, as well as their correlation with archaeological complexes, remain controversial. The high percentage of linguistic traits held in common by Apachean groups and the overall mutual intelligibility of their languages suggest that the original Apaches migrated south together and only recently segmented into the bands by which they are known today. In addition, certain Pueblo oral traditions relate that southern Apachean groups, known as
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Teyas or Querecho at the time of Coronado’s entrada (Gunnerson and Gunnerson 1988:1; Newcomb 1961:105; Vehik 1994:251), had arrived on the North American Plains only about sixteen years before the Spanish did. This has led certain scholars to support a very late, early sixteenth century, migration for the Apache (Gunnerson 1974:7, 153; Gunnerson and Gunnerson 1988:1–3; Perry 1991:6). The archaeological evidence is not very helpful in distinguishing Apaches from other Native American groups, as they did not leave distinctive artifact types behind. In addition, they were very receptive to innovation, so their styles and technologies changed rapidly (Perry 1991:12). However, these problems have not prevented some scholars from employing the archaeological record to postulate an arrival of Athabascan groups considerably earlier than the short chronology proposed by the Gunnersons and others. For example, Karl Schlesier has postulated an Apachean correspondence with the Avonlea II culture of east-central Idaho and southwestern Montana, which he thinks developed directly into the Fremont Culture. If correct, this interpretation would push Apachean roots on the western Plains back to a.d. 200 (Schlesier 1994:328), but the idea remains very controversial. Even in more recent times, correlations with archaeological assemblages are not very clear. For instance, when the Late Prehistoric Dismal R iver Culture of eastern Kansas and Nebraska and western Colorado was ¤rst discovered, it was proclaimed ancestral Apache on the basis of its distinctive pottery made from micaceous clay. The correspondence has grown a bit foggier, however, as scholars have realized that several Dismal R iver cultural traits, including method of burial, do not ¤t historic Apache patterns (Newcomb 1961:105; Perry 1991:141–142; Wedel 1961:113). Throughout most of recorded history, the Apaches have been bow-andarrow bison hunters—¤rst on foot, then as horsemen. They conducted two bison hunts, in the fall and the spring. These were cooperative operations, organized through carefully selected leaders and subleaders to maximize group effectiveness. When opportune, and particularly after most of the bison had been extinguished from the Plains, Apache hunted other game, such as deer, antelope, and turkey, and gathered several plant species—particularly agave, when forced into more arid locales. The Apache developed an extremely nomadic lifestyle, not occupying any locale for very long. They lived in skin tents and occupied the Plains but also sheltered in breaks and wooded river bottoms, where they could obtain fuel and water. To transport their equipment they employed great quantities of dogs as pack animals, a practice that earned them the sobriquet “dog nomads” (Bolton 1916:226–227; Gunnerson 1974:127–128, 141; Newcomb 1961:112–117; Perry 1991:10; Wedel 1961:303). Although this picture is germane for later Apache history, it does not accurately depict the previous lifestyles of these Indians. There is ample evidence that, at the time of ¤rst contact with the Spanish, the Apache lived in semisedentary dwellings, occasionally even building pueblos like their
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plateau-dwelling neighbors to the west. A group of Jicarilla Apaches probably remained in their adobe houses in western Kansas until at least 1727. Living in this manner, Apaches grew corn, manufactured pottery, and were expert basket makers (Gunnerson 1974:143, 154–156, 209, 212–214; Gunnerson and Gunnerson 1988:1; Newcomb 1961:113–114; Perry 1991:143). According to Debo, this all changed as their relations with the Spanish deteriorated, with the result that they “were pursued with such implacable hostility by the Spaniards that they took refuge in the mountains, living largely by raiding, traveling incredible distances when pursued, building slight wickiups of brush that could be easily abandoned, but pausing when they could to raise corn and to gather and store edible wild plants” (Debo 1970:17; see also p. 67). A new menace appeared in the early eighteenth century with the invasion and subsequent depredations of the Comanches and Utes, who began attacking Apache settlements with some regularity (Blakeslee 1995:13; Newcomb 1961:107–108). It appears, then, that the extreme nomadism the Apache exhibited in later history was a recent adaptation brought about by outside forces over which they had little control. Residence patterns among the eastern Apache retained the matrilocality of their northern interior Athabascan roots. This system allowed ®exibility by spreading related males, who were responsible for hunting, over a relatively large territory, thereby increasing potential assistance in times of need. Such a strategy would have been advantageous wherever resources were either intensely concentrated or thinly dispersed, as resources tend to be in both the Subarctic and the western Plains. Matrilocal residence was probably coupled with a matrilineal descent pattern (Dyen and Aberle 1974; Perry 1991:43–44, 75–76, 144). When the Spanish ¤rst encountered the Querechos and Teyas in the 1540s, they found these tribes actively trading with Pueblo peoples (Bolton 1916:226; Debo 1970: 26, 67; Gunnerson 1974:7; Newcomb 1961:114; Schroeder 1994:305; Spielmann 1991). The situation in succeeding years was complex, as Mountain Apaches fought with some Pueblo groups but were friendly with others. On the other hand, Plains Apaches were generally amicable trading partners throughout, even sheltering Pueblo individuals on the Plains when they ran afoul of the Spaniards or Indian enemies. Friendship may have been stimulated by the Apaches’ practical need for the goods produced by sedentary Pueblo Indians. This was part of a process of change for these vaqueros, as the Spanish called the Plains Apache, induced by new techniques and adaptation to the horse. These innovations altered their outlook on hunting, from an activity of subsistence to that of trade, ultimately resulting in a greater dependence on the Pueblos for desired products (Gunnerson 1974:7–9; Perry 1991:139). On the other hand, Apache relations with the Spaniards waxed and waned. A constant irritant was the slave trade, fomented by the Spanish and subsequently continued by the Mexicans. This practice, among others, resulted in the Great Pueblo Revolt of 1680, in which the Pueblo Freedom Fighters
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were aided by Apaches (Debo 1970:50, 162). Even when the Apaches were allied with the Spanish, the Spaniards would deny them access to ¤rearms (Newcomb 1961:108). This policy, of course, affected the Apaches’ ability to defend themselves against eastern Plains tribes such as the Osage and, eventually, the Wichita, who were being supplied with muskets and ammunition by the French. Given the pressures to which the Apache were subjected and their lack of the newest weaponry, it is a credit to their adaptability and tenacity that they remained a viable force on the Western Plains for so long. Once the Comanches and Utes emerged on the Plains in the early eighteenth century from their relative obscurity on the Plateaus and began raiding the settlements of other Plains Indians, the Apaches had to adapt. They soon abandoned their rancherias, or small, independent farming villages, as these were easy targets for Comanche raids. Since they lacked political organization beyond the band level, they disbursed into small pockets, ultimately being pushed into ever more marginal lands of West Texas and Mexico. From these isolated outposts they continued to hunt and conduct raids for as long as they could, until ¤nally being relegated to reservation life (Gunnerson 1974:166–234; Haley 1981:30–31; Newcomb 1961:108–109, 125; Terrell 1975:131–139). A HISTOR ICA L PER SPECTI V E
Recorded Visits to the Wichita Europeans ¤rst encountered the Wichita in 1541, when a Spanish expedition led by Francisco Vásquez de Coronado visited a land he called Quivira. The expedition ended up in the region of present-day R ice and McPherson Counties, Kansas, between the Smoky Hill and Arkansas R ivers. It remained in this region for almost a month, visiting several loosely allied but independent villages that were most probably of Wichita af¤liation (Newcomb 1961:247–248; Sanchez 1997:297; Wedel 1942). Although Coronado was searching for gold, he failed to ¤nd any. In fact, he had been led to this location by an extensively tattooed Indian known as Turco, or “the Turk.” Turco was apparently a Wichita who had been trading among the Pecos Indians when Coronado’s entourage rattled through. He agreed to guide the soldiers to the land of metal, but his real objective, as he later admitted, was to lead the Spaniards out into inhospitable environments where they would ¤nd no food or water and would ultimately perish. The Spanish detected this ploy and had him garroted, after which they returned to Tiguex, whence they had come (Sanchez 1997:298; Wedel 1982a). Other Spanish expeditions subsequently visited Quivira. Fray Juan de Padilla returned in 1542, but was killed by a band of Indians not from that region. In 1593 Capt. Francisco Leyva de Bonilla undertook a punitive mission to New Mexico and continued eastward to Quivira, but Bonilla was assassinated by one of his accomplices, a man named Humana, and the rest
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of the Spaniards were dispatched by the Wichita. In 1601 a disastrous colonizing expedition led by Juan de Oñate reached Quivira and found, like Coronado, that the riches so fervently hoped for simply did not exist (John 1975:22–56). Oñate’s group is thought to have encountered the Wichita in present-day southern Kansas in the vicinity of Cowley County, where recent highway construction near Arkansas City has provided an opportunity to investigate several sites of this period (Benison et al. 2000; Hawley and Haury 1994). Oñate returned to the Pueblos empty-handed, was reviled by many, and subsequently tendered his resignation. No other European expedition is known to have visited the Wichita until the separate French excursions of 1719 led by Du Tisné and La Harpe.
Archaeological Antecedents of Wichita Culture The strongest archaeological evidence for antecedents to the historically known Wichita tribe comes from central Kansas in several clusters of late prehistoric settlements known collectively as the Great Bend Aspect. The earliest surveys of this region were conducted in 1940 by Waldo Wedel of the Smithsonian Institution. He located several late prehistoric sites in R ice and McPherson Counties, which he designated the Little R iver focus, and he conducted limited excavations at the Tobias, Thompson, and Malone sites. Further south, he located another concentration of late prehistoric habitations near Arkansas City known as the Lower Walnut focus, where he excavated the Elliott, Country Club, and Larcom-Haggard sites. Subsequent investigations in the Cottonwood R iver Valley of east-central Kansas near Marion by Wichita State University, Kansas State University, and the Kansas Historical Society have ®eshed out another concentration of Wichita-related settlements. These Great Bend aspect sites—particularly the larger ones—have yielded a common panoply of prehistoric features and artifacts. They are characterized by low refuse mounds, abundant storage pits, plentiful pottery (mostly undecorated bowls of mediocre quality), small unnotched arrowheads, milling stones, bison scapula digging tools, bone awls, and stone end scrapers, drills, and bifacial cutting tools. Amid these common traits are some differences in detail. For example, council circles, or large depressed rings with mounded centers, are known only from Little R iver focus sites. In addition, Little R iver assemblages are characterized by a pottery style known as Geneseo plain, which is grit-tempered, whereas most of the pottery contained in Marion and Lower Walnut assemblages is Cowley plain, which is shell-tempered. Exterior decoration on these pots includes techniques known as stamping and trailing in Little R iver and Marion, but not Lower Walnut, assemblages. And drill shapes differ from a preponderance of straight forms on Little R iver sites to expanded-base forms on Lower Walnut sites, to both on Marion sites (Hawley and Haury 1994; Rohn and Emerson 1984; Wedel 1959, 1968). It is dif¤cult to know the meaning or signi¤cance of these differences, but they do not detract from an overall sense of homogeneity
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among the three areas. The dating of most of these assemblages is not precise, but all are generally referable to the period a.d. 1450–1700. Contact with cultural groups outside the Great Bend region has been noted for Little R iver and Lower Walnut focus, but not for Marion, sites. Pottery with glazed-paint decoration dating from approximately 1525–1650 originated in the R io Grande area and suggests trade with late prehistoric Puebloan peoples. The same may be said for several pieces of obsidian and turquoise found on R ice County sites. Contact with Spanish explorers is indicated by the discovery of several fragments of chain mail at Paint Creek just southwest of Lindsborg, Kansas, and at a couple of nearby sites. A few glass beads and an iron ax head have also been recovered from these sites (Terry and Terry 1961; Wedel 1942, 1975). Whether these were abandoned during the Coronado, Bonilla-Humana, or Oñate expeditions has never been established. A WA NING LIFEST Y LE The protohistoric Wichita were among several groups exploiting the rich bison herds of the Plains.3 Like their relatives the Caddo, Pawnee, Kichai, and Arikara, they retained Woodland traits of horticulture and stable village life, as well as the accompanying technologies that enabled such a lifestyle to be practiced. Yet they quickly assumed the customs of Plains Indians and were every bit as adapted as their neighbors to this ecosystem. The political climate of the sixteenth through nineteenth centuries was not an easy one for any of the Plains tribes, or for any other Indian people in North America, for that matter. Migration had always been an option for societies, and it probably occurred periodically throughout prehistory. It certainly preceded the European incursion, as exempli¤ed by Oneota migrations into the Central Illinois R iver Valley in the mid-thirteenth century (Emerson and Brown 1992:111–112). Europeans exacerbated an often already intense competition for resources. An early account of these con®icts is from the Spaniard Marcos Delgado, who was sent into interior southeastern North America to investigate the situation following La Salle’s attempt to colonize the Gulf Coast in 1684— the ¤rst account of these regions since Tristan de Luna’s expedition in 1560. Delgado reported that several tribes had moved south as a result of persecution from the English, the Chichimecas, and the Chalaque (Cherokee) (Boyd 1937; Smith 1987:21). The most famous of the “persecuting” tribes of the Northeast was the Iroquois, but they were just the most powerful of a large number of local groups who were being dislocated from connections with resources, other societies, and traditional lifestyles. Iroquois braves marauding down the Illinois R iver sent shock waves to far more distant regions than this, as the displaced Kaskaskia, Cahokia, Peoria, Michigamea, and others ®ed the region into the territory of others. And so it went, all the way to the Plains and beyond. The turbulent times
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visibly affected the Apache, a tribe that had previously lived in pueblos or other stable dwellings and had practiced horticulture, and that now was forced by Ute and Comanche raiding to adopt more nomadic lifeways. Similarly, the settled villages and horticultural ¤elds retained by the Wichita and Pawnee ultimately became vulnerable to enemy raids and thereby became costly to maintain. In pursuing their traditional lifestyle the Wichita were forced southward, off those parts of the Southern Plains that were most productive for bison hunting. By most accounts all or most Wichita subgroups had migrated from Oklahoma to south of the Red R iver by about the middle of the eighteenth century. This migration was apparently abetted by their old nemeses, the Osage, with whom relations had continued to deteriorate; however, there were probably also other in®uences for the move, such as the cessation in French weapons supply following the outbreak of the French and Indian War in 1754 and participation in the destruction of the San Saba mission being established for the Apache (Chapman 1982:20; Wedel 1981:48, 1982:129). In any case, in January 1742, the expedition of Frenchman André Fabry de la Bruyère up the Canadian R iver encountered 35 Osage warriors who were on the warpath against the Mento (Wichita), but there are indications that these Mento had probably already moved south by then (Blaine 1979; Wedel 1982b:128). The most unsettling ingredients in this mix, of course, were the Europeans, whose advances were forcing Indian tribal units into ever smaller territories. In order to understand the plight of the Plains Indians, we need to understand the political strategies of the advancing Europeans, and it is in this direction that we turn in the following chapter.
3 The New World as Political Pawn
Today the ¤gure of La Harpe and the era from which he came are shadow y, isolated from modern life by almost 280 years. But La Harpe did not just appear out of nowhere into an unsuspecting Tawakoni village back in 1719; his trajectory was well understood within the framework of his times, as was the Tawakonis’ within their own framework. We have discussed the basic structure of lifestyles from which the Tawakoni derived. Now we must place this Frenchman in perspective. As the Wichita interacted with their neighbors in, from our point of view, a far too incomplete historical narrative, La Harpe also played in a much wider cultural sphere. To understand this complex series of interactions, we must consider New World exploration from a very wide perspective—¤rst from the viewpoint of the Spaniards, then from the French (the British were also involved, but at this point in our story they remained peripheral). By taking a broad view of history, I hope to clarify the economic and political intentions of La Harpe’s excellent adventure. The principal places discussed here are shown in Figure 3.1. THE SPA NISH It is dif¤cult to fathom the real motives for Cristobal Colon’s initial Spanish colonization of the New World. As masterfully discussed by Kirkpatrick Sale, ¤nding the passage to Cathay (India) has often been invoked, but relevant documents fail to mention this objective, and the only trade gifts the company brought were trinkets. Fine inducement for a cultured Asian potentate. “God, gold, and glory” was the current catch phrase and the Spanish royal decree was to “discover and acquire” all new lands that the ®eet encountered, yet the assembled company was woefully unprepared for any further eventuality. If the objective was glory, meaning the conquering of lands, it is odd that, of the 90 men on board the three ships, not one was a professional soldier. Failing to gain a military advantage, perhaps glory could be attained by diplomacy, but the crew included no ambassadors, nor anyone else with diplomatic experience. If the purpose was to win souls, then why were no
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Fig. 3.1. Early Spanish and French New World centers mentioned in the text.
priests or other men of the cloth present? And for all the talk about the acquisition of gold and other mineral wealth, not one jeweler or metallurgist was on board. The lack of any naturalists, or even a professional cook, is equally striking. Colon must have had plenty of carpenters, sail repairers, etc., to get him to his destination, but what he was to accomplish once he arrived was not particularly well thought out (Sale 1990:11–26; see also Deagan 1990:227; Gibson 1966:5–12). In fact, much colonial development in the New World was of the trialand-error, learn-as-you-go variety. The Spanish employed conversion and intermarriage to pacify and control their subjects, but they did not stop there. Their encomienda system, entailing individual vassalage of Native subjects, and their repartimiento obligations—that is, tribute in goods or labor exacted from towns or leaders—provided structures for the subjugation of the peoples they encountered (Deagan 1985:292, 1990:229; Gibson 1966:49, 143). This strategy, coupled with the weakening of Native communities by
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raiding and disease, proved successful to the Spanish in a purely economic sense. Eventually the Draconian nature of these tactics offered propagandistic ammunition to Spain’s foes and even offended Spanish sensibilities to the point that some of the worst practices were curtailed—or at least, legislated against or annulled, begging the issue of enforcement. By 1520, for example, decimation of the Arawak population probably contributed to Spain’s outlawing the encomienda system as an inheritable institution (Deagan 1985:293; Gibson 1966:54). The reform movement culminated in Carlos V’s declaration of the New Laws of 1542, which consolidated power among federally appointed of¤cials, forbade slavery, and ended the encomienda system with that generation (Haring 1947:55–57; John 1975:10). On the other hand, the tribute requirements continued to further Spanish interests for many years. For instance, Oñate’s attempt to settle New Mexico in 1598–1601 granted no encomiendas, but his demands of tribute decimated the local economy (John 1975:52). One striking element of the Spanish colonization of North America was how long these people were present on the continent before either being extirpated by the Indians or challenged by European powers. Their persistence in the face of Native American rivals was sustained by their relatively low pro¤le once the initial colonization phase had terminated. In the West the Coronado expedition of 1539–42 provided only a limited advantage for the Spanish, as it effectively alienated the Tiwa and other Puebloan groups and produced no gold (John 1975:13–23; R iley 1997:1–10). Subsequent forays by such luminaries as Rodriguez and Chamuscado, Espejo, Castaño de Sosa, and Bonilla served only to emphasize Spanish avarice and bad judgment (Blakeslee 1995:7; John 1975:25–37; Terrell 1975:58–84). These events were followed by Oñate’s endeavors at colonization, a period so shameful that by 1609 the Spanish government decided to maintain New Mexico as a royal colony with a squadron of 50 soldiers and several friars to minister to the Indians, but it would no longer attempt serious exploration or colonization from the capital at Santa Fe (Haley 1981:25–26; John 1975:56). Unfavorable reactions to Spanish rule did not prevent the succeeding governors from exploiting the Pueblo Indians mercilessly and instituting a reign of terror against them and their Athabascan neighbors. This behavior culminated in the Great Pueblo Revolt of 1680, which caused the Spanish to evacuate Santa Fe for several years. Although they reoccupied the city after a military invasion in the 1690s, they treaded more cautiously this time around (Gibson 1966:185–186; Haley 1981:29; John 1975:84–97). In the East the early expeditions by Narváez, Ponce de Leon and de Soto can be described as exploratory and exploitative. The eastern counterpart to Oñate’s attempted colonization of New Mexico was Tristan de Luna’s expedition bringing Mexican farmers to the Gulf and Atlantic coasts in 1559. Unfortunately, a huge storm destroyed several of his vessels before they could be unloaded, so most of his supplies were ruined. This put a severe crimp
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in the colonizing effort and resulted in an excursion of several of the men to Coosa, a village that veterans of the de Soto expedition had previously visited. Mutual assistance between Indians and Spanish kept the Spanish alive for a couple of years, but by 1561 the colony was in such poor shape that the entire body had to be returned to New Spain (Gibson 1966:182–185; Hudson 1990:217; Hudson et al. 1985, 1989; Priestley 1936; Smith 1987:11–12). Saint Augustine and Santa Elena were indeed established as colonies, but they never grew much and failed to ¤ssion toward the interior; the latter was abandoned by 1587. The purpose of subsequent expeditions, such as Pardo’s in 1566 and 1568 and Menéndez de Avilés’s excursions subsequent to establishing Saint Augustine and Santa Elena, were geared not so much toward colonization but toward exploring, gathering information, establishing friendly contact with native groups, and ¤nding an effective overland route to Mexico (Lyon 1989; Milanich and Milbrath 1989:24–25; Smith 1987:12). Spanish presence in the Southeast was maintained through a series of missions in northern Florida and along the Georgia coast. If souls were really important to the Spanish, this tactic made little headway here: “In the six years they labored (1566–1572), the Jesuits lost ¤ve friars without making a single convert. This is a clear indication that native Floridians perceived little bene¤t in permanent association with missionaries” (Saunders 1998:413). High-handed tactics by the Spanish quickly erased any political or economic advantages that might have accrued to the Indians through prolonged interaction, resulting in a series of rebellions and retributive actions. The missions eventually withered and, by the seventeenth century, further Spanish colonization northward was effectively blocked by the British. It can be argued, then, that the pattern of Spanish settlement in North America was determined largely by a combination of bad luck and bad manners. Over the former they had little control, but the latter was governed by Spanish ideas of ownership and gain. Ownership was a product of the Crown, which had absolute authority and control over who would be allowed to travel to the New World in the name of Spain. The royalty actually put relatively little money into their overseas ventures, but habitually contracted with interested partisans who would ¤nance their own operations (Haring 1947:3–25). In other words, the Spanish settled the New World quite literally through private enterprise. Although reasons that a Spanish nobleman might wish to make such a journey varied considerably, they did not usually involve farming, settling down, or staying for the long haul. Since these people had to front the money, they were in it for short-term pro¤t. This at least partially explains why they treated the Indians so badly and why, when their ¤rst attempts at colonization were unsuccessful, they did not immediately launch new campaigns for settlement. Considering early European settlement continent-wide, the Spanish established bases in Santa Fe and Saint Augustine and constructed a series of missions in both regions. There they sat for 150 years, thwarted from undertaking major colonizing campaigns and from extending their in®uence very
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far beyond the immediate con¤nes of their settled areas. In fact, they seldom even ventured far from home, with the result that they had little knowledge of the surrounding areas and the people in them. What can happen in such a situation is exempli¤ed by the ill-fated Villasur Expedition to the Plains in the summer of 1720. The expedition was occasioned by New Mexico Governor Valverde’s encounter the previous year with an Apache who suffered a wound from a gun he claimed was ¤red by one of a marauding group of Frenchmen, Jumanos (probably meaning Wichita in this case), and Pawnees. Moreover, he claimed that the French had constructed forts at the villages of these two tribes. This would have been about the time of the expeditions of Du Tisné and La Harpe to the Wichita in 1719. Rather than attend to the matter directly, Valverde returned to Santa Fe, waited a year, then sent Lieutenant-Colonel Pedro de Villasur and a Spanish contingent from Santa Fe to the eastern Plains to see for himself. On the way Villasur picked up 30 Apache guides, who took 63 days to bring him to the object of his quest. But those he met with were not Jumanos, they were Skidi Pawnee; and he was not in eastern Kansas or Oklahoma, but on the Platte R iver. Following some highly unsatisfactory encounters with these Indians, the Spanish decided to retreat. A couple days later Villasur and 45 Spaniards, along with 11 Pueblos, lost their lives in a savage predawn raid. The Apaches, who miraculously all made it out alive, took 22 days to return to Santa Fe despite visiting friends along the way. The Spanish never did ¤gure out where this slaughter had occurred, and it proved fatal to Spain’s chances to dominate the Central Plains, because every Spaniard at all knowledgeable of the terrain had gone down with Villasur (Hyde 1951:65–69. See also Blakeslee 1995:14–15; Folmer 1941:258, 1953:282–283; Gunnerson and Gunnerson 1988:6; John 1975:249). This paucity of environmental and cultural knowledge also affected Spanish exploration in the East and even in the Gulf Coast. Here, after La Salle’s failed attempt to relocate the mouth of the Mississippi, the Spanish had a dif¤cult time not only in discovering the remnants of La Salle’s settlements, but even in ¤guring out which river La Salle had been looking for (Weddle 1992:101). In retrospect, it is remarkable that the Spanish could hold onto the status quo in North America for so many years without expanding their base of colonization. The answer lies in Europe, where their rivals were occupied with petty squabbles and wars of succession (Eccles 1972:1). When these rivals were able to extricate themselves from their most pressing political encumbrances and apply strategic resources to the New World theater, the situation changed drastically. THE FR ENCH The French, like the English, entered the New World fray somewhat late, after the continents had been divided between Spain and Portugal. This pre-
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cluded their serious participation in some of the activities that interested the Spanish. For instance, the most obvious mineral deposits had already been claimed by the time the French were ready to exploit them, so gold never became much of an issue in Paris. There always existed souls to be saved, of course, and French friars were no strangers to missionary work. But the principal inducement for French involvement in New World affairs was commercial—¤rst the ¤sheries of Labrador and Newfoundland, then the hides of beaver, deer, and bison from interior regions. France became a New World player in 1524 with Verrazano’s expedition to the eastern coast of North America, which he claimed for France. Soon thereafter France challenged the Portuguese in Brazil and later the Spanish in R io de Janeiro, but these attempts were squashed. During the 1560s the French attempted to gain a foothold in Florida, but the Spanish again proved to be tough customers and sent the French packing (Eccles 1972:2–10; Folmer 1953:83–101). After this long string of setbacks, the French were forced to repair to the only part of the New World to which they remained unchallenged by other Europeans—Canada. So it was not for lack of trying that the French ended up there, and northern North America became their base of operations on that side of the Atlantic. However, settling the Saint Lawrence region proved to be a formidable task in its own right. The ¤rst exploratory expedition to this region, Jacques Cartier’s in 1534, was considered less than successful in that it failed to reveal deposits of gold, indicated convincingly that a very large land mass stood between the Europeans and the riches of Cathay, resulted in serious loss of life from starvation and scurvy, and managed, by typical European arrogance, to anger a previously friendly group of Indians. Nevertheless, Cartier managed to stir enough interest in the potential of the continent to attempt colonization, though he himself was not chosen to lead this effort. Some disastrous attempts at colonization ensued, and Canadian winters proved too severe for the French to continue their permanent trading post at Tadoussac. By the turn of the seventeenth century, the French still had no permanent colony in the New World (Eccles 1969:13–18; 1972:3–6; Wade 1988:21). This situation was to change with the establishment of Quebec by Champlain in 1608, an event aided by the fact that the Iroquois were not living there at that time. Growth of the colony was slow, but by the mid-1660s French forces had successfully thwarted the Iroquois Confederacy’s attempts at westward expansion, thus permitting French traders to deal directly with western tribes. At about the same time the fur trade expanded greatly, abetting forces within the French government in favor of expansion westward to cut out the Ottawa middlemen. This faction joined René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle, against the Montreal merchants in exploring and developing an alternative route down Lake Michigan and the Mississippi R iver, along which the French began building several forts. Marquette and Joliet’s trip down this waterway almost to the mouth of the Arkansas was suf¤cient to indicate that the river emptied into the Gulf of Mexico, a situation
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that opened up new possibilities for trade in a southerly direction, as well as back to Europe (Eccles 1969:104–109; Emerson and Mansberger 1991:149; Lemonnier 1942).1 Development of this route had the additional advantage of splitting a wedge between the two Spanish regions of settlement at Santa Fe and Florida, a possibility the Spanish had kindly left open by not expanding their colonies. This was an interesting kind of empire the French were creating, as it was based almost totally on commercial foundations. The French had no desire to occupy most of this territory and, in the beginning, did not even claim it. Moreover, the trade in furs was not bene¤ting a very large proportion of the population and these goods could not be marketed in France’s relatively successful Caribbean colonies. Many of these economic dif¤culties came to a head at the end of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth centuries with a glut on the fur market and a resulting economic downturn in the home country. These events had the effect of causing of¤cials to close down some western posts in North America (Eccles 1969:110, 1972:98–99). To make matters more complicated for the French, they now had a new rival in North America—the British, who had established the lucrative Hudson’s Bay Company and had provided numerous settlers for their Atlantic colonies (Ray 1988). By 1698 there were rumors that the British would soon be extending their colonies to the Mississippi R iver. In fact, during this period the British posed a greater threat to the French than did the Spanish. So it was to protect their commercial and political interests that the French Crown sent Pierre le Moyne d’Iberville with a crew of Canadians to establish a colony at the mouth of the Mississippi in 1698. The founding of this colony ¤rst at Biloxi, then at Mobile, then at New Orleans in 1718, has been chronicled in several sources (Le Page du Pratz 1774; McWilliams 1953). Suf¤ce it to say that the early days were plagued by confusion, dissension, disillusionment, and poor provisioning. Because the Crown was unable to provide much ¤nancial support, this matter was left to private investors such as Antoine Crozat and John Law, whose motives were driven more frequently by personal gain than the good of the colony. Under Law’s tenure the Company of the Indies (and particularly its subsidiary, the Company of the West) was established in 1717 to regulate and expand commercial activities in the Mississippi Valley. The company was given monopolies on the marketing of beaver and tobacco, as well as exclusive rights to the Guinea slave trade, and it soon embarked on a campaign to produce economically viable conditions and attract settlers. These efforts proved somewhat disappointing, as the colony achieved a reputation for harboring miscreants and the rabble of society, a perception that was not particularly attractive to the French middle and upper classes the company hoped might be induced to settle there. In addition, Law’s economic precepts were founded on in®ating the currency, a not totally unreasonable tactic in an era of relative economic naïveté. The economic bubble
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inevitably burst in 1720, leaving France in a greatly weakened ¤nancial state and affecting its ability to support colonial ventures for many years to come (Brown 1992:18; Eccles 1972:161–165; John 1975:210; Miquelon 1987:78–80). The governor of France’s gulf colony in many of the early years was Iberville’s brother, Jean-Baptiste le Moyne de Bienville. It was he who kept the struggling village operational by promoting friendly relations with neighboring Indians, an effort greatly aided by the greedy and unsavory tactics employed by rival Carolina traders (Brown 1992:25–27; Eccles 1972:167–168). The French welcomed entrepreneurs willing to put up their own money for the prospect of making a fortune in the New World. These people were offered grants of land, called “concessions,” on which to build structures and establish their operations. Concessionaires would be expected to bring supplies and settlers and to provide productive employment in North America (John 1975:210–211; McWilliams 1953:211–214). They would ¤rst report to Bienville before setting up operations somewhere in the interior. ENTER L A HAR PE
The Early Days It was into this situation that Jean-Baptiste Bénard, Sieur de La Harpe appeared. The second son of a well-respected sea captain from Saint Malo, Brittany (whence also came the explorer Jacques Cartier), La Harpe had an adventurous career in Spain and Peru early in his life. In Peru he wooed a Spanish woman 22 years his senior, Doña Maria de Rockafull, whose principal objective appeared to be to return to Europe to live the life of a wealthy courtesan. This goal was not La Harpe’s, and in other ways the two proved incompatible. When the separation became complete, Mme de Rockafull hired herself a rapacious law yer who made La Harpe’s life a series of charges, countercharges, and court cases for the next few years. As a result, he was constantly in debt and looking for ways to increase his fortune (Villiers du Terrage 1934; Wedel 1971). To a man in these circumstances the New World must have seemed like a golden opportunity. The Company of the Indies had just recently launched its propaganda campaign, which included promises of material assistance when the settlers arrived, and the reputation of Louisiana had not yet plummeted, so La Harpe determined to try his luck with Bienville. From the company he received a freehold concession on the Red R iver, and with his dwindling resources he hired 40 men and supplies and ¤nally made it to Dauphine Island in the summer of 1718. Upon arrival he found that the previous settlers were on the edge of starvation, having been more intent on trade than farming. In addition, there was no way for a concessionaire to reach his destination except to build his own boats and perhaps scrounge for others. The men did both and, in September of 1718, La Harpe received authorization from the Council of Louisiana to establish a post near certain Caddo Indians on the Red R iver.
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The journey was arduous, since nobody in Saint Malo had told the group about the “Great Raft”—that is, a gargantuan log jam on the Red that either clogged the river, making it impassable, or ®ooded lowland areas, rendering dry land and the river channel dif¤cult to ¤nd. Stopping at the French post in Natchitoches to pick up six men promised by Bienville and some Caddo guides, the party ¤nally arrived at its destination in April 1719. The men settled near an Upper Nasoni Indian village and built a rectangular structure and stockade, which they named Fort Malouin (Villiers du Terrage 1934:18– 22; Wedel 1971:41–44). La Harpe’s objective was to trade—not only with the Indians but also with the Spanish. Of course, once the Spanish heard about La Salle’s activities in the Gulf and then the establishment of French colonies at Biloxi and Mobile, they reverted to their typical reactive mode. This consisted of constructing a series of missions in Texas, notably among the Hasinai, Ais, and Adaes, the purpose of which was to provide a phalanx of Spanish in®uence so that they could monitor and counter the French militarily (Blakeslee 1995:14; Folmer 1953:247; Gilmore 1992:123–124; John 1975:207–208; Le Page du Pratz 1774:7–8).2 So when La Harpe arrived, he found that the Spanish had previously established a presence among the Caddo. He sent letters to two Spaniards, Governor Alarcon and Father Margil, both near a Hasinai village. Margil’s reply left open the eventual possibility of establishing trade relations, but by that time France and Spain were at war again. The Spanish in the New World either did not yet know of the war or had decided not to take part in it, so Lieutenant Blondel at Natchitoches chose this opportunity to overpower the Adaes mission. For the French this was not a huge problem: when the Spanish reestablished their missions in east Texas in 1716, even the Hasinai had more guns than Governor Alarcon’s forces (Mor¤ 1935:77; Perttula 1993:96); thus Blondel was able to accomplish his mission with only seven men. Since the Spanish had made no converts among the Caddo and were now being openly attacked by the French, Alarcon and the rest of the mission personnel retreated all the way to the head of the San Antonio R iver (Folmer 1941:257– 258; John 1975:211–212; Villiers du Terrage 1934:22; Wedel 1971:44). This situation took pressure off La Harpe, but it meant that trade with the Spanish in Santa Fe was also a bad idea.
Excursion to the Wichita Having exhausted his trade options with the Caddo and Spanish, La Harpe turned his attention northward to Indians related to the Caddo, who had not previously had much contact with Europeans. He embarked on August 11, 1719, with his lieutenant, Du R ivage, 3 soldiers, 2 blacks, 1 Nassonite, 2 Quidehais (Kichai) guides, and 22 horses laden with provisions and trade goods. His journey across the Ouachita Mountains and prairies to the north took about three weeks, at the end of which he encountered a village or region of 6,000 Indians belonging to the Tawakoni tribe, later to coalesce
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into the Wichita. However, the Tawakoni were only one of nine peoples named as present at that locale, suggesting either that the others had come to trade or party, or that lots of folks had heard about the imminent arrival of the strange Europeans. It is instructive that during the 10 days La Harpe’s party spent at this village, another 1,000 Indians arrived to participate. La Harpe presented the Indians with powder, bullets, hatchets, knives, and cloth, for which he received a crown of eagle plumes and two calumet plumes, the most valuable gifts that could be bestowed. Up to this point the Wichita had been shielded by their eastern neighbors from the main ®ow of traf¤c in European goods. Even among the Caddo, where French posts were situated, French trade items such as guns, ammunition, axes, knives, and clothing were not very common on trade inventories until after 1740, so among the Wichita in 1719 they must have been quite rare—even though we know that some trade goods travel ahead of their source nations, as we shall see presently with respect to British trade (Perttula 1993:104; Smith 1987:20; Wedel and Wedel 1976:15). The fact that about 1,000 Indians traveled from other locations to partake in the festivities during the 10 days of La Harpe’s visit bespeaks of considerable curiosity and interest. Wichita concern in cementing some sort of relationship was visible on the fourth day of his visit, when they performed the calumet ceremony and presented the French with 30 bison hides, rock salt, tobacco, ultramarine, and an Apache slave. During this time a Chickasaw trader arrived with merchandise, indicating the vast geographic scale at which commerce was being negotiated. The trader, whose tribe was allied with the British, was understandably surprised to encounter Frenchmen. Before the party left, La Harpe had Du R ivage carve the arms of the king on a post to be placed in the center of the village. La Harpe had previously intended to leave three men at the village to maintain a French presence there, but he changed his mind when he learned that the Wichita vacated their villages for at least ¤ve months of the year to hunt bison. The return of La Harpe’s party to the Nassonite post was arduous. Their guide was killed by Apaches, they got lost in the Ouachitas, and they were forced to turn their horses into nourishment (Lewis 1924; Smith 1958–59).
The Denouement Upon returning to his post La Harpe learned that the Spanish were planning to reinstall their missions east of the Trinity R iver. This they eventually did, living symbiotically with the French (and probably being provisioned through French sources) for the next 40 years (Gilmore 1992). La Harpe decided to report these Spanish activities personally to Bienville in New Orleans. On the journey southward, however, he became extremely ill, though he gradually recuperated with the help of Adaes medicine men. As he had
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still not fully recovered by the time he arrived in New Orleans, he returned to France, where he made a full report of his ventures to John Law in person. It was not long before he was back in the New World, though this time without his Upper Nasoni concession, which had been given to Louis Juchereau de St.-Denis, a knowledgeable veteran of those parts. La Harpe was provided with the ambiguous title of commandant of Saint Bernard Bay, the same body of water in which La Salle’s fateful journey to discover the mouth of the Mississippi had ended in assassination by his own men. Although La Harpe’s mission was to establish a trading post and pursue commercial relations with the Indians of the gulf, the venture came to naught as the local Indians were apparently predisposed against the French and resisted their encroachment (Folmer 1953:274–275; Villiers du Terrage 1934:26–30; Weddle 1987). Since visiting the Tawakoni village, La Harpe had realized the extraordinary commercial and political potential to be realized from establishing a French outpost there. He was therefore extremely pleased with his next assignment: to cruise up the Arkansas R iver as far as he could, recording vegetation, fauna, mineral deposits, and all else of note. Had he been fortunate enough to explore this river farther than he did, he would have been able to revisit his old friends, the Tawakoni, which he desperately wanted to do. As it was, he acquired nothing but trouble. The river was out of its banks and dif¤cult to follow, and the party was provided with too few boats and provisions to complete the voyage successfully. The overloaded boats constantly ran aground on sand bars. Forced to barter with trade goods, La Harpe found the Indians uncooperative. The Tunica and Quapaw were not thrilled that Europeans were traveling upriver to contact folks they considered their enemies. With provisions low and the crew complaining of dysentery and fatigue, La Harpe feared the same fate that had befallen La Salle and therefore returned to Biloxi. Disappointed and disillusioned, he soon sailed for France, again for reasons of poor health. There his association with Bienville, currently out of favor in the courts of the realm, was a distinct disadvantage in the constant political intrigues of the era. La Harpe was discharged from the Company in 1725, was never reimbursed to his satisfaction, and spent the rest of his days in Saint Malo (Villiers du Terrage 1934:31–37; Wedel 1971:45–57) R ECONSTRUCTING L A HAR PE’S JOUR NEY
Ethnohistoric Ruminations Throughout his life La Harpe realized the value of visiting and establishing a French presence at the Tawakoni village he encountered in 1719; his subsequent failure to visit the village must have been very disappointing. Almost ever since he left, people have been wondering exactly where this village lay.
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The job of ¤nding out would appear to have been facilitated by the fact that La Harpe wrote a diary of his travels to the village, in which he recorded distances, directions, and landmarks encountered for every day on the journey. As recounted in chapter 1, the location of La Harpe’s trading post northwest of Texarkana has been determined to the satisfaction of most scholars (Miroir et al. 1973; Wedel 1978). Despite the historical godsend of La Harpe’s diary and the fact that we have known the approximate location of his trading post for several years, estimates of La Harpe’s terminus vary widely. For example, James Mooney and Baron de Villiers du Terrage had La Harpe ending up on the Cimarron, whereas Ralph Smith and Henri Folmer thought the location was further south on the Canadian. Anna Lewis postulated a location on the Arkansas, near Haskell, Oklahoma, while Susan Vehik agreed that the river was the Arkansas but that the site was located downstream in the Three Forks region near present-day Muskogee (Folmer 1953:252; Harper 1953:273–274; Lewis 1924:343; Mooney 1898:251; Smith 1958–59:526; Vehik 1992; Villiers du Terrage 1934:23).3 The routes of Lewis and Smith, as well as other locales mentioned here, are presented in Figure 3.2. In 1972 Mildred and Waldo Wedel and Larry Banks tried to resolve this issue once and for all by simply traveling the route from the vicinity of the post, La Harpe’s diary in hand. The group ended up on the Arkansas R iver at Wealaka R idge near Leonard, Oklahoma (Wedel 1981:28, 1982b:124). Wealaka R idge is approximately 12 km southeast of the Lasley Vore site, which will be discussed presently. The trouble with most of these potential village locations is that none have been af¤rmed by the discovery of an eighteenth-century contact site. The most determined effort to date was that by the Wedels and Banks, but upon scouring the area around Wealaka R idge and talking to landowners, they found no evidence of protohistoric artifacts. A survey of land and collections by Bell and Bastian in the area of Haskell, another potential hot spot a few miles southeast of Wealaka R idge, also yielded no evidence of human presence during this period (Bell and Bastian 1967b:122–123; Vehik 1992:321; Wedel 1982b:124). Since neither of these efforts was very systematic or comprehensive, we cannot rule out either area until intensive surveys have been conducted.
Prospections Upon completion of the Lasley Vore excavation in 1988, it was decided to inspect the surrounding area for similar settlements—as well as sites of other periods, of course. Supported by the Oklahoma State Historic Preservation Of¤ce through National Park Service grants, graduate students Ken Shingleton and Kent Dickerson conducted a survey of the southwestern bluf®ine of the Arkansas R iver between the towns of Jenks and Bixby, Oklahoma. They discovered eight sites: four historic homesteads, a historic mine,
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Fig. 3.2. Eastern Oklahoma showing several of the protohistoric sites mentioned in the text, as well as the routes to the Tawakoni village as proposed by Lewis (1924) and Smith (1958–1959).
a historic trash dump, a late prehistoric lithic scatter, and a protohistoric settlement. The latter, called the Hampton site (34Tu-90), was located across 131st Street and was perhaps 300 m away from the Lasley Vore site. It was tested by 15 shovel test pits and four one-square-meter excavation units. Not surprisingly, on the last day of ¤eldwork the excavators found themselves in the middle of a protohistoric pit, replete with bones, sherds, points, charcoal, and lots of daub. The other test pits had revealed similar material but near the surface, and one of the shovel tests yielded a glass bead (Odell et al. 1990). The Hampton site was certainly contemporary with Lasley Vore, per-
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haps even an outlier that existed at precisely the same time. But we may never really know; the last time I drove by, there was a house in the middle of it. The late prehistoric lithic scatter discovered on the survey near Jones Airport outside Jenks yielded a Harahey knife, a type that was not found at Lasley Vore but has appeared on contemporary settlements. Thus, this site may belong to the same settlement system, but the scatter was so small that it would not have represented a village. Finally, south of Jenks in a plowed ¤eld, a local collector in the late 1980s discovered a much larger scatter of artifacts of the same period. He has recovered beads and metals, as well as Native American artifacts similar to those of other protohistoric sites. How many other similar sites may yet be uncovered once we start looking for them is unknown. We are thus confronted with the interesting anomaly that the places predicted by ethnohistorians to contain La Harpe’s Tawakoni village have so far yielded no protohistoric sites at all, while sites of this period have been found, unpredictably, outside these areas. Lasley Vore is one of a few of this latter type, and most of the areas preferred by the ethnohistorians have never been adequately surveyed. I fear that the diary’s description of, and directions to, the Tawakoni village are just ambiguous enough that no potential site can exist without its detractors—unless, of course, one ¤nds La Harpe’s carved post sitting right in the center of it. So let us not weep, but revel in the opportunity this provides, for Lasley Vore is the ¤rst serious contender for the Tawakoni village that La Harpe encountered that we have ever had. Let us now turn to the site itself to see what it can tell us.
4 Industry Presents an Opportunity
Now we come to our second story, that of modern archaeology. This is not the stuff of beads, but bulldozers; nor of axes, but analyses. It is not the less political for all that, and it frequently contains a kind of twisted fascination. MODER N ARCHA EOLOGY Archaeology is a contradictory science. Its information content is provided by context—that is, the association of an object with the sediment in which it occurs and with other items or anomalies in that matrix. Yet the very act of recovering an object destroys the evidence on which its value is based. This is why so much attention is given to recording the exact circumstances of an archaeological ¤nd while it is being unearthed: if you fail to do this, you forfeit the evidence. While archaeology is destruction, it is small in scale and, if done right, preserves information that can be acquired in no other way. On the other hand, our society’s propensity for constructing highways, reservoirs, pipelines, housing projects, and shopping malls assures the destruction of everything in its path—including the lowly archaeological site that the backhoe operator never noticed. In addition, some ancient artifacts are expertly crafted and bring a hefty sum on the art market, a situation that has spawned an entire industry of looting and pothunting archaeological sites for pro¤t. An unfortunate sidelight of this practice is that, for every salable item extirpated from its archaeological context, at least a ton of dirt is disturbed and hundreds of thousands of other artifacts are also removed from their contexts, rendering the potential information content of the whole lot next to nil. This is not a new problem—in fact, it was poignantly expressed by Hester Davis back in the early 1970s (Davis 1971, 1972). Since then construction and looting have not only not receded, but have accelerated. For example, between 1985 and 1986 recorded instances of looting and vandalism of archaeo-
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logical sites in the United States increased from 432 to 615 (Keel et al. 1989:33). One response to the loss of our heritage has been the passage of laws aimed at protecting and preserving archaeological resources. The granddaddy of this type of legislation was the Antiquities Act of 1906, which sought to protect archaeological sites on federal lands. It was followed by the Historic Sites Act of 1935, which established a National Survey of Historic Sites and Buildings and required the secretary of the interior to take a leadership role in preserving properties of historic signi¤cance; the Reservoir Salvage Act of 1960, which mandated the recovery of archaeological data from the many reservoir projects then under construction or contemplated; and the Department of Transportation Act of 1966, which provided a similar series of mandates for federally funded DOT projects. In the same year was passed the National Historic Preservation Act, which created the President’s Advisory Council on Historic Preservation, directed the secretary of the interior to expand the National Register of Historic Places to include state and local properties, and authorized Department of Interior grants to state and local agencies for preservation work. Arguably the most important of these laws was the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) of 1969. This legislation for the ¤rst time spelled out a coherent policy for governmental decision making on environmental issues, mandating that every federally funded project consider the total environment, not just the immediate charge of the speci¤c project under consideration. This law bade policy makers evaluate various alternatives and costs of action before making decisions that affect the archaeological resource base, thus involving archaeologists at an early stage in these projects. NEPA was implemented through the President’s Council on Environmental Quality, which speci¤ed studies, or Environmental Impact Statements, on archaeological resources so impacted. This law was followed in 1971 by Executive Order 11593, which mandated that federal agencies inventory all cultural properties under their control, nominate appropriate properties to the National Register of Historic Places, and act as stewards of their cultural resources (McGimsey and Davis 1977:9–11; Schiffer and Gumerman 1977:3–7). Similar laws have been enacted since 1971, and individual states have also passed legislation on this subject (Carnett 1995). The purpose of this discussion is not to provide a comprehensive list of federal legislation, but to give an impression of the kinds of laws that protect our cultural resources. Known as cultural resource management (CR M), this ¤eld has burgeoned as the demand for environmental impact statements for threatened properties has grown. Companies providing environmental impact statements for other companies, agencies, and individuals have literally sprung up on the landscape like mushrooms, and the CR M ¤eld today probably provides more employment for archaeologists than any other type of job, including work in academic institutions.
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THE L ASLEY VOR E SITE
The Survey What I have just described are the conditions under which a large proportion of archaeological research is performed these days. And so it was in 1987 when I was contacted by Sirrine Environmental Consultants about conducting an archaeological survey of land on the Arkansas R iver at 131st Street and Yale Avenue, 13 miles south of Tulsa, which the Kimberly-Clark Paper Company was in the process of buying for the construction of a tissue facility. The purpose of an archaeological survey is to record all remains of past human presence on a speci¤c parcel of land. It is pedestrian in nature, meaning that one or more people walk up and down the property in a systematic manner, usually keeping about 10 meters apart, and record all relevant traces of past activities that they encounter, normally digging a series of test pits along the way to assess subsurface deposits. My wife and other colleagues joined me in this survey, which took several weeks to complete. On the quarter section or so of land that the Kimberly-Clark Company purchased, we discovered 13 archaeological sites—seven historic homesteads, cemeteries, oil pads, etc., and six prehistoric artifact scatters. It was determined that construction of the tissue facility would impact six of these sites, so their archaeological signi¤cance had to be evaluated, a process that entailed surface collecting each of them intensively, mapping intact culturally produced characteristics, and frequently conducting subsurface testing procedures.1 At the end of the process we had established that one of these sites was signi¤cant enough to warrant intensive excavation. Located on a low bluff overlooking the Arkansas R iver where the Kimberly-Clark plant now stands, this was the protohistoric settlement that relates, in some way, to La Harpe’s visit in 1719.
Background on the Site The Lasley Vore site was named for a Creek Indian man who migrated to this area from Fort Smith in about 1890 and had a farmstead built, allegedly by a traveling mason. Vore died in 1898 and his tombstone still stands on the location of a small family cemetery at the edge of what used to be the protohistoric site. The land and structures that Vore built were sold to Mr. J. F. Kays in the early part of this century. Kays, his wife, and his son, J. F. Jr., from whom I learned most of this history, farmed the property until the elder Kays died in 1955, after which his wife moved to nearby Bixby. The house burned down in 1969 or 1970 and much of that land was subsequently bulldozed. The Lasley Vore protohistoric site (34Tu-65) was situated on a grassy slope west and across Yale Avenue from the Vore house. Two uplands soil types are present in this area: Kamie ¤ne sandy loam and Dennis silt loam (Cole et al. 1977:46–48). The land was tilled for many years and had been a dairy
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farm previous to its purchase by Fred Parkhill, owner of a prominent Tulsa liquor store, who lived on the land for 15 years and eventually sold the property to the Kimberly-Clark Corporation. None of the buildings that belonged to the dairy farm existed at the time we were there, but, judging from the aroma of a couple of our excavation pits, we probably got pretty close to it. The site itself was about two to three hectares in size, with a diameter of approximately 150 meters. Three cattle ponds existed in the area, one of which was spring fed, suggesting the existence of a nearby freshwater source for inhabitants of the area. The site apparently used to have mounds on it, and Mr. Kays remembers going across the street to pick up “ancient pottery and beads” on these mounds.2 Because of the frequent plowing of the soil through the years, however, neither mounds nor other topographic features were discernible by the time we arrived on the scene. Even Kays, who visited the site during the initial stages of archaeological investigation, could no longer make them out.
Testing the Site Planning the Research Once the site was discovered, we needed to learn more about it. We were required to assess its signi¤cance, and, if it proved suf¤ciently important to investigate further, we needed to ¤nd out as much as possible about the people who lived there. But at the same time we were pondering these questions, the Fluor Daniels Construction Company was moving dirt. Now if the object of our attention had been an Egyptian pyramid, the state archaeologist would probably have been able to acquire a mandate to preserve it inde¤nitely; that is, he would have told Kimberly-Clark to construct its building somewhere else. Alas, this was not a pyramid and was not deemed of suf¤cient grandeur or uniqueness to risk jeopardizing the 500 jobs that the Kimberly-Clark factory was reputed to be bringing to Tulsa. Yet even during the early stages of investigation it was apparent that the site could be critical for understanding the prehistory of the region; it therefore warranted intensive investigation before the tissue plant was constructed. The parties involved consequently agreed to promote archaeological excavations until the middle of July, which gave us about two months for the entire project. In addition, we were given permission to call upon Fluor Daniels for any equipment or expertise they might possess and the KimberlyClark Corporation would foot the bill. From our point of view, two months was a woefully short period in which to conduct such a large project, but as it was about as good a deal as we were likely to obtain, we moved on it. The summer of 1988 was unbearable throughout the Midwest—Neal Trubowitz, digging in Indiana at the time, called it “one of the worst droughts in recorded history” (Trubowitz 1992:248). By the time we were ready to investigate the Lasley Vore site, it had not rained in at least two
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months, nor did it rain while we were excavating. This meant that the soil, which possessed substantial clay content, was hard as rock. Water that we sprayed on excavation squares puddled and sat there, and water we left in buckets with sediment overnight did not penetrate by morning. In conditions like these, the chemical de®occulants we contemplated using to break down the molecular surface tension of clay particles would have taken too much time to become effective. This situation affected the methods available to us for both testing the site and intensively excavating it. For example, it limited the effectiveness of testing by posthole diggers, inducing us to try mechanical devices and to do our excavating only in the format of larger units. Digging that summer can be termed suboptimally joyful, and in a few cases it could not be accomplished without the use of a pickaxe, a tactic that was sure to make little potsherds out of big ones. Fortunately, damage to artifacts was not too severe, though, as we will see later, it did affect the edges of many of the stone tools. The Ditch Witch Our initial problem was to ascertain the basic parameters of the site—that is, its dimensions, chronological placement, and cultural af¤liation—as well as to gain some idea of its artifact content and distribution. This meant that we had to choose a method that would cover a large area and provide representative samples that could be compared with one another. For this task we selected the Ditch Witch. Designed commercially for digging narrow trenches for laying pipe, this machine has a belt with metal blades angled into the ground.3 As the belt penetrates the soil, the machine moves forward, thereby enabling the resulting trench to deepen and elongate. The machine we rented had 15 cm blades and penetrated about 70 cm into the soil. This strategy worked well in enabling us to test large areas more quickly and with greater resolution than manual test pitting. Despite the hard ground, which made the clutch give out twice, we were able to derive a workable model of the site’s composition and internal structure. On the plan of the area in Figure 4.1, the boundaries of the site coincide approximately with the extent of the Ditch Witch trenches. Ditch Witch trenching results not only in a linear hole, but also in a linear pile of back dirt beside the hole that, because of the angle of the blades, is slightly displaced horizontally from its original location. This back dirt can be sampled for purposes of comparing artifact densities across the site. We sampled one linear meter of back dirt every 5 or 10 meters along each trench, depending on our need for resolution in a particular area. Each unit so designated was dry screened through 1/4-inch hardware cloth, a procedure shown in Figure 4.2, and the artifacts were bagged and recorded separately. Dividing the recovered artifacts into the principal classes of stone tools, pottery, bone, and European items enabled us to compare the various parts of the site with one another on the frequencies of their artifact content. I
Fig. 4.1. The location of the Lasley Vore site in relation to relevant topographic features.
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Fig. 4.2. Dry screening a unit of Ditch Witch back dirt. Arkansas R iver is in the background.
plotted artifact frequencies along the trenches, letting the width of the shading along each trench correspond to the density of artifacts at that locale. We eventually discovered, distributed throughout the site, several prehistoric facilities—mostly hearths and pits—that are called “features” in archaeological parlance. Interestingly, when I compared the distribution of features that were eventually discovered to the artifact concentrations depicted in the Ditch Witch trenches, very little correspondence resulted. In some areas artifact densities coincided with feature clusters (for example, clusters 4, 10); in other areas, the reverse was true (for example, clusters 5, 7, 8). Unless the Ditch Witch ran right through a feature, the artifact distribution that resulted provided more accurate information on artifact concentrations in the plow zone than on the location of protohistoric hearths and pits. Despite the inability of the technique to predict the locations of buried cultural facilities, testing with a Ditch Witch provided an estimate of the dimensions of the site, as well as a model of how artifacts were distributed in the plow zone. In addition, the machine trenched through three features (1–3), giving us our ¤rst data on this aspect of site structure. The recovery of shell-tempered pottery, a Fresno point, and a probable bison scapula hoe provided a clear indication that we were dealing with people who had existed very late in the prehistoric sequence. The recovery of two deer mandibles and sporadic remains of shell and bone fragments suggested that these people engaged in hunting and shell collecting. And the presence of glass beads
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and two brass tinkling cones meant that they had somehow come into contact with European trade goods, if not with the Europeans themselves. Finally, the Ditch Witch trench provides a cut through the sediment that can be used to study stratigraphic context. Since the trench sliced by our machine was only six inches wide, the sun had to be in just the right position in order to achieve a clear view of the pro¤le. This is seldom the case in archaeological ¤eldwork and usually requires cutting back one wall of the trench. This was accomplished on three or four of the trenches but did not provide particularly useful information, so the pro¤les are not presented here. However, since at this point we had not yet talked to Mr. Kays, we were not certain that the land at this location had ever been plowed. Opening up these viewing stations con¤rmed a lack of midden development (that is, a buildup of organic detritus induced by human settlement) and con¤rmed our initial impression that the land had indeed been plowed.
Excavation Units These bits of information were important in calculating our next move—to manually excavate 2 × 2-meter units to sterile soil, which usually coincided with the lower limit of the plow zone at a depth of 20–30 cm (unless, of course, a unit contained a protohistoric feature, as several of them did). All of these units, as well as features excavated individually, were water screened through 1/4-inch hardware cloth. To obtain a relatively unbiased impression of the site, we located 14 units in areas of both high and low artifact concentration as determined from the results of the Ditch Witch trenches. The placement of these units and their relationship to the trenches and features that were ultimately discovered are presented in Figure 4.3. During this stage of ¤eldwork it became obvious that temporal constraints were going to force us to relinquish our investigation of much of the site. It was important that we attempt to salvage everything we could with the least possible expenditure of time. Since at this stage metal trade goods had already been discovered, we ¤gured that this was one artifact type that could be sought independently. Accordingly, three of our volunteers brought out their metal detectors and made several important discoveries, which we recorded as separate ¤nds in Metal Detector Units (MDUs). In all, 51 pieces of metal were recovered from 41 MDUs. These small holes, dug from the surface with a trowel, also yielded 9 pieces of pottery, 5 retouched stone tools, and 10 pieces of lithic debris.
Digging for Features The excavation unit strategy was important in maintaining stratigraphic control and in monitoring the relationships of artifacts to the matrix in which they were found, but it was too labor intensive to be able to sample more than a small proportion of the territory in which we were interested. In the end we wanted to investigate spatial patterning, if it existed. The only way to do that was to blow off the plow zone and concentrate on the only un-
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Fig. 4.3. Locations of Ditch Witch trenches, excavation units, protohistoric features, and designated areas at the Lasley Vore site. Dots are features, accompanied by their feature numbers.
disturbed part of the site: the portion existing below the plow zone, the protohistoric features. Early on we knew they existed, as we had run through three of them with the Ditch Witch and had encountered several more while excavating test squares.4 This was when we took the Kimberly-Clark Company up on their offer of equipment and manpower. The ace belly loader operator for the Fluor Daniels Construction Company that summer was Jim, whose of¤ce was about 10 feet off the ground. Jim was good. When we asked him to remove a swath of land down to eight inches below the surface, he did so despite the concretelike consistency of the earth. Once Jim had ¤nished removing
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Fig. 4.4. Excavation of features after belly loader removed topsoil.
the topsoil from an area, we sent in troops to pin-®ag anomalies such as crushed shell and charcoal smears. These would be assigned feature numbers and excavated, as shown in Figure 4.4. This technique enabled us to inspect substantially more territory than we had been able to in the previous excavation unit strategy, but we had to throw away a lot of artifacts that lay near the surface. On the other hand, we increased the site’s quantity of known features from about 12 to 81. Each feature recorded in the ¤eld was drawn in plan view and pro¤le— unless, as in the last three (discovered by another belly loader operator four months after we had ¤nished our excavations), we recognized the anomaly as a feature only after most of it had already been destroyed. In addition, from each feature we ¤lled a large 13-liter bag of sediment that was later subjected to ®otation procedures.5 Through this method two samples were acquired: a ®oated sample of organic material that was submitted for paleobotanical analysis; and a heavy sample caught in the ¤ne mesh (1/16-inch) screen, which was separated into its various material classes and is included with the faunal and microdebitage analyses. The belly loader swaths also allowed the identi¤cation of areas of artifact concentration below the plow zone, which we collected on what then was the surface. These were not associated with any features but were probably the very bottoms of protohistoric dumps. Cleverly labeled South Areas 1 and
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2 and West Area 1, these may have been the mounds from which Mr. Kays collected pottery and beads when he was a boy.
Evaluation of Investigative Techniques During the summer of 1988 we were in a bind, confronted with a very large site to excavate and little time to do it. This is pretty normal for archaeological digs—one almost never has enough time in which to accomplish all the necessary things—but it was especially true in this case. To accommodate the situation, we spliced together a suite of techniques that we thought might get the job done. These included a traditional pedestrian survey from which we identi¤ed 13 archaeological sites. Presented with temporal constraints, we tested the most important of these with a Ditch Witch, which provided data on the existence of features as well as on artifact content and distribution. This information allowed us to place excavation units in areas of differing artifact densities and acquire valuable contextual data. As this technique proved overly labor intensive for the prevailing conditions, we eventually had the plow zone shaved off and recorded features, which constituted the only undisturbed portion of the site. The success of these techniques can be judged by the information they provided. THE R I V ER At the time of excavation the Lasley Vore site overlooked the Arkansas Valley and was only about 300 meters from the river itself, a relationship consistent with descriptions of the Tawakoni village La Harpe visited. But if the river had changed drastically in the last 280 years, it would render this site a less likely candidate to be the village in question. The best way to resolve this issue was to study the hydrologic history of the river. Shortly after the excavation we posed our questions to Dr. John Dixon of the Department of Geography at the University of Arkansas. He agreed to undertake a small exploratory study of the Arkansas ®oodplain, which entailed drilling two deep cores in the vicinity of the R iverside Power Plant about a mile north of the Lasley Vore site.6 In order to maximize contrast, one core was placed near the river, the other, closer to the bluff line. Details of the study can be gleaned from appendix 1. I will summarize the ¤ndings here as they apply to the question of the Tawakoni village. Combining data from the cores with information already gathered by the Soil Conservation Service, Dixon found that the depositional history of the Arkansas R iver in this area is quite complex. The river has exhibited an overall northward migration, but the general tendency has been interspersed with periods in which the river migrated back toward the bluff line. In this preliminary study we did not radiometrically date any of the sediments, so the chronology of these migrations remains uncertain. Some temporal indications can be gleaned from the sediments, however. For example, sedimentation throughout most of the Holocene period in Oklahoma has been char-
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acterized by rapid deposition formed under conditions of relative aridity. Dixon sees this long arid period re®ected in the coarse sediments toward the bottom of both cores. Deposition slowed drastically about 2,000 years ago as the climate became moister, creating a relatively stable landform called the Copan Paleosol, which endured for several hundred years.7 This period may be represented in the buried soil B horizon of the proximal core (that is, the one nearer the river). The climate then once again became more arid and sedimentation rates increased, re®ected in the upper sandy units of Dixon’s proximal core. A fter a long period of decreasing rainfall the landform again stabilized, forming the Delaware Creek Paleosol (Ferring 1986a, 1986b). This has been interpreted as being represented in the weakly developed buried soil in the upper meter of the proximal core and in the one-meter-deep paleosol covered by backswamp deposits of the distal core. These interpretations coincide with our knowledge of the climatic history of eastern Oklahoma, but they remain hypotheses for the moment, since the temporal placement of none of the sediments has been established by absolute dating methods. All of the data that concern the migration of the river, however, suggest that its northward movement has been slow and interrupted by periods of countermovement toward the bluff line, rendering it unlikely that the position or nature of the river 280 years ago would have been much different from that of today. Therefore, hydrological factors are not suf¤cient to preclude the Lasley Vore site from consideration as the Tawakoni village La Harpe visited.
5 A Testimony to Storage and Cooking
STOR ING, CACHING, A ND COOK ING Archaeologists have called the agricultural revolution a watershed in human history, viewing the domestication of plants and animals by human groups as instrumental in instituting massive structural and organizational changes in society (Braidwood and Braidwood 1983; Childe 1936). Subsequent re®ections on these relationships, however, have not always emphasized agriculture as the principal variable causing the changes. For example, Alain Testart has isolated storage behavior as a primary factor leading to culture change, stating that “it is certainly not the presence of agriculture or its absence which is the relevant factor when dealing with such societies, but rather the presence or absence of an economy with intensive storage as its cornerstone” (Testart 1982:530). Testart viewed the existence of collective storage as heralding the emergence of exploitation by favored subsets of society. Instead of contrasting farmers or herders with hunter-gatherers, as most people have done, he contrasted people who have practical immediate use of resources with those who practice large-scale seasonal food storage (Testart 1982). Subsequently Tim Ingold rede¤ned the concept of storage and broke it into constituent parts, emphasizing two phenomena not always considered in this context: ecological storage, or concentrating living resources at speci¤c locales in the environment, and social storage, or an appropriation of rights to future distribution of resources as a function of social relations and commitment. His discussion provides a broad perspective on the general phenomenon of deferring consumption to some time in the future. The usual concept of storage, and the type on which we will concentrate in our study, is what Ingold termed practical storage, which involves the preservation of nutrients in a form that can be ingested at a later date. It constitutes a response to the demands of seasonality and does not imply the husbandry of living or dead resources—that is, hunter-gatherers can do it, too (Ingold 1983). The importance of storage to foraging groups has been shown to vary according to effective environmental temperature, being increasingly impor-
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tant with greater latitude (Binford 1980:16). Among people who resided in sedentary villages, food storage was both crucial and variable. Caddo polities, for example, tended to store their grain on large raised platforms, whereas Plains tribes preferred subterranean pits (DeBoer 1988; Grif¤th 1954:110–111). This preference relates to differing lifestyles. The Caddo had amicable relations with their neighbors, by and large, and at least some portion of their population resided in the village during all parts of the year. On the eastern Plains, on the other hand, entire tribes would vacate their villages during at least the winter hunt and sometimes also during the summer if a hunt was organized at that time. During such periods their villages were easy targets for marauding enemy raiders. One object of storing produce in underground containers, therefore, was concealment (DeBoer 1988; Ward 1985:98–99). The quality of hiding things from others probably also affected the treatment of tools and materials that people wanted to preserve for later use. The behavior of concentrating these items and placing them somewhere safe is known as caching.1 Several prehistoric tool caches have been discovered throughout the Llano Estacado of the High Plains, particularly in regions devoid of good tool material such as ®int. For instance, a notable concentration of unifaces and bladelike ®akes, the Gibson Cache, was found near a reservoir in West Texas; a similar concentration of usable ®akes, the Brookeen Creek Cache, was plowed up by a farmer in north-central Texas (Mallouf 1981; Tunnell 1978). Although caching is usually thought of as occurring outside a village rather than inside it, caches can appear in either location. In fact, Lewis Binford once inventoried people’s belongings at the Nunamiut Eskimo village of Anaktuvuk, where caching was an extremely important practice. He found that, of all items owned, only 51 percent were located within their houses; 40 percent were cached at locations used for hunting sheep or caribou; and fully 9 percent were cached somewhere within the village (Binford 1979:258). The same forces that would have induced eastern Plains tribes to conceal foodstuffs from marauding enemies would also have induced them to conceal objects of potential use such as raw materials, tools, and containers. These they would have sequestered into caches and perhaps buried in pits somewhere within the village. In many societies, at least some of the cooking was also conducted in pit structures. For plants such as camas or agave, pit cooking was particularly useful in breaking down fructan or inulin, in promoting hydrolysis of less easily digestible starchy foods, and in oxidizing toxins in foods such as acorns and sorghum. Perhaps more relevant to the Wichita case, pit roasting was effective in processing large quantities of meat by exploiting the heat transfer properties of its internal fatty tissue (Wandsnider 1997). ARCHA EOLOGICA L FEATUR ES Our decision to pare the topsoil from the Lasley Vore site meant that we could investigate only structures that extended below the plow zone. These
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had to be evaluated with respect to the processes that led to their formation, eliminating any that were determined to be the result of bioturbation (that is, disturbance by plants or animals such as moles, gophers, or earthworms), erosion, or other natural processes. If these processes could be eliminated, the resulting structure was labeled as a feature and considered cultural—that is, made by human beings who had previously inhabited this property. A feature is recognizable to the archaeologist because it is different in color, texture, or content from the matrix that surrounds it. Those that for some reason are not distinguishable from the matrix are no less features because of this, but they will not be recognized as such. To have been recognizable below the plow zone, features had to have been dug out. They probably served at least one of the three functions described above (storage, caching, or cooking)—as well as for heat and light, in the case of hearths—before terminating their use-lives, as so many did, as garbage dumps. The decision to concentrate efforts on excavating protohistoric features was dictated by the mandates of a tight project schedule. In hindsight it was a sound decision, though at the time it was dif¤cult to forget about the artifact-laden mound of topsoil that came to be known as Mount KimberlyClark. This dirt had been removed from the site and was destined to be spread over the prepared subsoil upon eventual landscaping of the property surrounding the tissue facility, thereby creating a reconstituted archaeological phenomenon. I shudder to think how naive archaeologists of the future might waste their time if they failed to apprise themselves of the archaeological history of the area. The principal advantage of using features as evidence is that, since most of them have been dug into the subsoil in order to serve as facilities, some portion of their lower part usually extends below the plow zone. They therefore constitute the only database that has remained undisturbed by postdepositional processes such as plowing and bulldozing. If we eventually wish to analyze the cultural use of space on the settlement, we are on safer ground employing undisturbed data than objects that have been pulled around by a plow.2 The disadvantage of using features in this manner is that, like other elements of culture, their purposes occasionally evolved over time. Thus a pit that was originally constructed to serve as storage for corn may have ended up as a trash dump into which any offending piece of garbage was swept. For our purposes, it would be nice to know the original intention of a particular feature, but, because many of them changed function or were designed for the storage of perishable foodstuffs whose evidence did not survive, this goal is not easily attained.3 In the analyses that involve Lasley Vore features, I will hypothesize that the contents of a feature re®ect activities that occurred in the area immediately around the feature. Thus, if it was determined that a pit had served as a storage facility for ramon nuts, like Puleston’s famous chultun experiment in Central America (Puleston 1971), then I would assume that this usage was important to somebody inhabiting the area around the pit. Similarly, if a
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pit’s variable detritus included some stone implements, and if their analysis indicated usage as ¤sh ¤lleting knives, then I would hypothesize that ¤sh ¤lleting was practiced somewhere in the vicinity of that pit and would evaluate overall functional patterns and other evidence to support or refute that hypothesis.4 FEATUR E CL ASSIFICATION Eighty-¤ve features were recorded at the Lasley Vore site. Upon detailed inspection, four of these were determined not to have been cultural in origin and were deleted, rendering 81 that we are reasonably certain were constructed as protohistoric facilities. The basic information for all features is presented in Table 5.1. Each feature was given a number and drawn in plan view at the level at which it was ¤rst recognized. Plan view dimensions have been recorded as a diameter if its shape was roughly circular, or as length and width dimensions if its shape was elliptical. Surface area was calculated according to formulae for these two shapes: πr2 for circular forms, πab for ellipses. All features were bisected, if possible, photographed, and drawn in cross-section. The ¤rst few features discovered were inspected to comprehend their formation and evaluate whether or not we could distinguish separate dumping episodes that might elucidate the sequential usage of these pits.5 We could not and so concluded either that the occupants of the site had not ¤lled in their pits in regular fashion or that no sterile depositional layers had accumulated between dumping episodes. Inspection of ¤eld notes, drawings, and photographs has allowed us to categorize the features into 12 types, which will be described in detail in this chapter. Since we do not know exactly how much topsoil was removed in any particular area, I have employed 15 cm as a standard depth below surface for each feature. The spatial distribution of features on the site aggregated visually into 10 clusters, which were designated arbitrarily and will become more important as we proceed with the analysis. The categories into which features were classi¤ed are enumerated in Table 5.2. Five are pits: (1) basin-shaped, curved-bottomed (abbreviated PC in graphs); (2) basin-shaped, ®at-bottomed (PF); (3) straight-sided, ®at-bottomed (PS); (4) bell-shaped (PB); and (5) irregularly shaped (PI). Two hearth-related classes, the ¤re pit (HP) and the hearth dump (HD), were recognized, as well as two types of caches, artifacts (CA) and shell (CS). A ¤nal category I have labeled “Varia,” because either the shape or the usage of these anomalies was ambiguous. This is true of the two dark-stained areas (VS), as well as the indeterminate features (VI), many of which were recognized as features only after most of their upper portions had already been destroyed. The one post mould (VP) that was recognized was also placed here. In order to visualize the relative sizes of these feature types, histograms
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have been used to portray average depth in Figure 5.1 and average area in Figure 5.2. On the whole, pits were the largest features on the site, particularly the straight-sided, ®at-bottomed variety. Hearths were the next largest group, and caches were the smallest. In many cases the deepest features were also the most extensive in surface area, but this was not universally true. For example, bell-shaped storage pits were very deep, but they were only fourth largest in surface area because of their restricted openings—that is, they widened out toward the bottom. Fire pits were quite extensive in surface area but only a little above average in depth, whereas hearth dumps were deeper than would have been expected from their restricted surface areas. Features constitute the principal data set from the Lasley Vore site, and they have provided clues both to the nature of this encampment and to some of the events that transpired there. My goals in this chapter, therefore, are twofold. First, I will attempt to characterize each speci¤c feature class, as several of them obviously served different functional roles in the camp. Detailed descriptions, content lists, and pro¤les of individual features are presented in appendix 2. Second, within several of the classes I will describe unique or particularly well-preserved examples that contain information
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relevant to the behavior of the people who lived at this locale. These examples will provide useful data on which to base our eventual interpretations. PITS
Basin-Shaped, Curved-Bottomed Pits (PC; n = 22) The basin-shaped, curved-bottomed pit (PC) is shaped roughly like a bowl. Most of these pits were rather small, the means for both depth and area being smaller than the global mean for all features (see Table 5.2). These features were occasionally dif¤cult to see, and two of them (features 3 and 37) probably consisted of two adjoining pits rather than one. This element was not discovered until the excavators reached the bottom of feature 37, whereas most of the evidence of the second pit in feature 3 was destroyed by the Ditch Witch.
Fig. 5.1. Average depth of feature types in centimeters below plow zone. The number of features in each type is in parentheses.
2
Fig. 5.2. Average area of feature types in cm . The number of features in each type is in parentheses.
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Fig. 5.3. North wall pro¤le of feature 29, a basin-shaped pit.
As among all feature types at Lasley Vore, extreme variation in ¤ll and contents is characteristic. Most of the PCs contain some evidence of burning, often in the form of scattered charcoal ®ecks (for example, features 18, 57, 58) or dark, sometimes greasy, charcoal stains (48, 64, 69). In several features (29, 44, 45, 46, 60, 79) a distinct ash layer is evident, and this is sometimes accompanied by burnt clay (12, 51). The association of burned soil, ash, and charcoal can be seen in the pro¤le of feature 29 (see Figure 5.3). Evidence of burning also comes from feature 70, in which a large sandstone slab, burned on one side, was recovered, and from the bottom of feature 18, which yielded three yellow sandstone slabs and several ¤re-cracked rocks. Perhaps the most interesting PC was feature 69, which contained a heavy charcoal concentration and two black, greasy areas. One of these possessed a concentration of burned corn kernels and nutshells. None of these pits yielded positive evidence of in situ burning—that is, the pit linings were not burned or reddened. In all cases the charcoal, ash, or ¤re-altered rocks appear to have been dumped into the pit after the pit was dug. Thus, most of these pits appear to have been the latest receptacles for dumping or cleaning behavior—possibly the last usage of pits originally intended for other purposes. This does not explain the charred corn kernels, which one would not expect to have been used for fuel. A few years ago Roy Dickens completed a comparison of prehistoric features in the American Southeast. His Type 2 consists of shallow, basin-shaped pits such as these at Lasley Vore, which he interpreted as having been dug for the construction and repair of wattle-and-daub buildings in the area.6
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This origin may also apply to the shallow pits at Lasley Vore, but it is extremely dif¤cult to either substantiate or refute.
Basin-Shaped, Flat-Bottomed Pits (PF; n = 10) The principal difference in shape between these pits and the former is that these possessed ®at, rather than rounded, bottoms.7 As a group they were also deeper and larger in surface area, being above the global mean on both measurements. Like the previous class, almost every pit contained some evidence of burned material, either scattered charcoal (F. 59), charcoal ®ecks and burned clay (F. 75), or concentrations of charcoal and ash (F. 6, 7, 27, 32, 43, 56). Again, the sides or bottoms of the pits did not appear burned, suggesting that these elements were swept in after the burning had occurred somewhere else. Feature 7 was a large ®at-bottomed pit that shared many of the traits of other PFs, but it also possessed unique characteristics. It was full of ash and charcoal, and near the bottom was densely laden with ¤re-cracked rocks and whole mussel shells. Although the ash, charcoal, and ¤re-cracked rocks appear to have been dumped in, the shell concentration was still usable for many purposes. Since this site contains other mussel shell caches, feature 7 may also have served this function for a while before becoming a trash pit near the end of its use-life. Three other PFs combine traits unique to this feature class. For instance, two bison scapulae, possibly hoes, lay on the bottom of feature 61, a shallow pit with dark gray-brown ¤ll. On the bottom of feature 82, an averagesized pit containing a charcoal concentration in a brown matrix, lay three large sandstone slabs. Feature 6, a deep pit with greasy ash and charcoal ¤ll, brought these elements into association. On the bottom of the pit were two bison scapulae that lay on top of four oblong stone slabs. Figure 5.4 shows the slabs after the scapulae had been removed. The association of bison scapulae with stone slabs is enigmatic. In the cases of features 82 and 6, the slabs lay ®at on the very bottom of the pit, like a prepared lining, suggesting perhaps a special function for the pits. Another possibility is that the slabs originated as the covering of the pit that subsequently fell to the bottom.8 The scapulae may have been present because of their association with whatever was being stored, such as agricultural produce. We are probably unable to interpret many of these associations because we do not know the symbolic systems being used, a point illustrated by a recent discovery. A bell-shaped storage pit, similar in size and shape to the Lasley Vore pits described here, was excavated at the late prehistoric Radio Lane site (14CO385) near Arkansas City, Kansas, an occupation that was probably contemporary or closely ancestral to the occupation of Lasley Vore. On the bottom of this pit was a bison scapula hoe bearing an engraved star and rectangle within which was a series of parallel vertical lines. From the
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Fig. 5.4. Four stone slabs lying on the bottom of feature 6, a basin-shaped, ®at-bottomed pit.
sparse Wichita ethnography and a little help from the Skidi Pawnee, these symbols were interpreted as related to the Evening Star (Venus), an agricultural deity that symbolized life, food, and prosperity (Holland 1998). The bison scapula hoes of Lasley Vore were not engraved, but symbols of placement and orientation may have been employed to give meaning to patterns that we are currently unable to discern.
Straight-Sided, Flat-Bottomed Pits (PS; n = 6) It can be argued that the qualities embodied in the straight-sided, ®atbottomed pit are not suf¤ciently different from other kinds of pits to justify their separation. Dickens, for example, included this type with his Type 1 storage pits (Dickens 1985). This may well be the case, but I have elected to retain this as a separate category for the moment; it can always be combined with other categories later. The best example of this type was the ¤rst feature, the middle of which was run right through by the Ditch Witch. The outline of this pit, the dark ¤ll of which was even apparent in the Ditch Witch back dirt soil, can be clearly seen against the lighter matrix of the C horizon, illustrated in Figure 5.5.
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Fig. 5.5. West wall pro¤le of feature 1 showing elements within the pit.
A few of these pits contained limited evidence of non–in situ burning such as scattered charcoal (F. 1) or ash (F. 35, 36), but the others did not. In general, these features exhibited less evidence of burning than either of the other two previously described feature types. Feature 41 was somewhat unique in containing a concentration of bone on top. This pit type has the largest mean dimensions for area and depth of any feature type at the site, though this result can be attributed in large measure to feature 42, whose surface area was almost twice as large as that of any other feature. It was deep enough (112 cm) that people in other units could barely see the top of the head of the lady excavating it. Despite the hardness of the ground on other parts of the site, the soil in this area was quite friable, a quality that probably contributed to the outstanding size of the original hole. Perhaps because of the ease of digging at this locale, this pit was intersected by a much smaller pit of the same type (feature 67), making this the only recorded evidence of one pit having been dug into another.
Bell-Shaped Storage Pits (PB; n = 10) Because of its restricted opening and expanded space below and the minimization of the surface-volume ratio (DeBoer 1988:3), the bell-shaped pit was probably dug speci¤cally as a storage facility. This class shows more internal homogeneity than any other feature type, a characteristic that can be supported by its relatively low standard deviation on both depth and area
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Fig. 5.6. West wall pro¤le of feature 31, a bell-shaped pit.
measurements (see Table 5.2). This quality can be illustrated by calculating the coef¤cient of variability (V = standard deviation/mean, not shown in the table) for each of the feature types on the two dimensions. On both measures, the coef¤cient of variability for bell-shaped pits is considerably lower than that for any other feature type. The pro¤le of feature 31 (see Figure 5.6) illustrates the variety of artifacts and other material included in one of these pits. This feature class was consistently the largest at the settlement and, had it not been for the gargantuan straight-sided feature 42, it would have had the largest average dimensions. After their role as storage facilities ceased, bell-shaped pits became lovely trash receptacles; most of them were chock full of charcoal, ash, and artifacts. All of these pits, except for feature 33, exhibited multiple evidence for burning. This included not only charcoal and ash lenses but also ¤re-cracked rocks in features 30, 31, and 72. The bottom of feature 62 also contained abundant ¤re-cracked rocks that, combined with the mottled black and orange burned soil in the bottom of the pit, suggested this may have functioned at some point as a ¤re pit. Bell-shaped pits yielded some interesting anomalies. For instance, feature
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Fig. 5.7. Several large pieces of a metate being excavated from feature 62, a bell-shaped pit.
28 was full of charred corn kernels, which were recovered in abundance from the water screen. The other feature that contained abundant corn kernels was feature 69, a basin-shaped, curved-bottomed pit. Another intriguing scenario occurred in feature 62, which, along with its ¤re-cracked rock and abundant artifact content, also contained remnants of three metates that had been broken into relatively small pieces. Figure 5.7 shows these large fragments in the pit before they were excavated and one entire metate had been put back together (see Figure 5.8). Finally, the bottom of feature 10 contained one sandstone slab, reminiscent of the slabs in the basin-shaped, ®atbottomed pits of features 6 and 82.
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Fig. 5.8. Re¤tted metate after it was excavated from feature 62.
Irregularly Shaped Pits (PI; n = 6) Irregularly shaped pits form an amorphous category that exhibits little homogeneity in shape or content. Most of these pits were quite shallow, though feature 55 was deeper and considerably larger in surface area than the average. Several possess evidence of burning, such as the charcoal and ¤re-cracked rock in feature 23, the black burned soil near the top of feature 47, and the ash lens in the middle of feature 49. These may have resulted from a ¤re inside the pit, but the pit walls were not oxidized. The nature of the ash and burned clay in feature 13 suggest that this pit became a hearth dump subsequent to other uses.
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Fig. 5.9. North wall pro¤le of feature 73, a hearth pit with a concentration of pottery on top.
HEARTHS
Hearth Pits (HP; n = 7) Hearths are facilities that exhibit evidence of in situ burning, usually by virtue of oxidized pit walls. These hearths were all originally dug out as pits, and there is little difference between these pits and the ones described above, other than the evidence for burning within the facility itself. The shapes and sizes of the ¤re pits show substantial variability. Four of them (F. 4, 9, 50, 73) could be classi¤ed as basin-shaped, curved-bottomed pits, though two of these were shallow, the other two, deep. Two (F. 22, 52) were straightsided, ®at-bottomed pits, whereas the last (F. 40) was a basin-shaped, ®atbottomed pit. On average their surface area was quite large, exceeded by only two of the other pit categories (PF, PS); however, in depth they were slightly shallower than average. Like many of the classes described previously, all of the ¤re pits contained burned substances like ash and charcoal. One of the best examples of this type is feature 9, which contained large quantities of ash and charcoal, as well as large ®ecks of burned earth above the dominant ash lens. As an aside, this feature was disturbed at one point by a workman after the excavation crew had left for the day. From a friend who was present we learned that he unthinkingly ripped a few bones out of the pro¤le wall—then, upon being told that we probably had a reason for leaving the objects in the wall for the time being and might possibly be displeased by his impatient curiosity, he stacked them in orderly fashion on top of the balk wall for us to ¤nd the next morning. I am relatively certain that nothing was taken, but this event demonstrates how dependent archaeologists are on the good graces of the general public. Two hearth pits exhibit interesting anomalies. First, feature 22 had a yel-
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low ®agstone on the bottom, reminiscent of the basin-shaped, ®at-bottomed pits. Second, two of these hearths (F. 40 and 73) contained concentrations of potsherds on top, suggesting that once these pits had served their initial purposes, garbage was probably swept into them—including, at the last, a broken pot (see Figure 5.9).
Hearth Dumps (HD; n = 2) A hearth dump is a scatter of charcoal, ash, and/or burned clay that lacks clear boundaries, with no evidence of in situ burning. Only two features (8, 34) were positively identi¤ed as such, though I suspect that several of the pits served this purpose. Although one of the smallest feature types in area, these dumps were 30 and 20 cm deep respectively (that is, 45 and 35 cm below the surface), suggesting that they were purposely dug into the subsoil. CONCENTR ATIONS/CACHES
Artifact Concentration (CA; n = 4) Artifact concentrations at the Lasley Vore site were the smallest overall feature type in combined depth and area. The evidence that determines an artifact cache is largely negative—that is, no visible pit outline surrounds it. Since these features were shallow, when depth could be measured at all, it is possible that we were just recovering remains at the very bottoms of shallow pits. Indeed, the artifact concentration in feature 78 was surrounded by a faint, mottled soil discoloration. But because in most other cases we could discern pit outlines, we have classi¤ed artifact caches as a separate phenomenon. The contents of these caches vary considerably. Feature 16 contained mostly bone and stone tools and debris, along with almost 700 grams of broken potsherds. Feature 78 also contained a large variety of objects, including pottery, bone, and stone tools. Features 17 and 26 possessed considerably fewer items—®akes and bone in the ¤rst instance, exclusively ®akes in the second. What these artifact concentrations represent is unclear. While they may have been the bottoms of pits, the lack of a border around them suggests that they were not dug as deeply as the pits were, perhaps for a speci¤c purpose. It is possible that a couple of them may have been small dumps that were recovered at the very bottom of the plow zone. So although I have elected to classify these features as a separate type, a great deal of ambiguity surrounds them.
Shell Caches (CS; n = 3) The same kind of ambiguity does not affect shell caches. They were purposely dug into the ground and were the repository for primarily one kind of ar-
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Fig. 5.10. Feature 2, a mussel shell cache lying under a bison scapula.
tifact, mussel shells. Shells were probably cached primarily for pottery temper, though they have had a number of other known uses, such as spoons. We knew about them early on, as the Ditch Witch sliced right through feature 2 (see Figure 5.10), depositing shiny white shell ®ecks on the dark topsoil. Overlying the concentration of mussel shells was a bison scapula, the distal end of which had been pared off by the Ditch Witch, destroying any evidence for potential activities such as hoeing. A few other bones, two potsherds and a few ®akes were also found in association with the mussels, but the concentration of usable shells was so evident that there was no mistaking the intent of the cachers. The excavator discerned a faint basin-shaped pit outline around the cache, but it was so tenuous that no pit pro¤le was drawn. For these objects to have been placed at this level below the plow zone, a pit probably had to have been dug. The other two shell caches contained shell almost exclusively. One sherd was found in association with the shell in feature 68, whereas feature 14 also contained a ®ake and a mano. Like feature 2, feature 14 also appeared to be surrounded by a faint pit outline, though no such outline was noticed for feature 68. All three caches were small, as their surface area was the second smallest of any feature type and they were below average in depth.
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VAR IA
Post Mould (VP; n = 1) Although structures of some kind probably existed at Lasley Vore, only one post mould was discerned, and we were not absolutely certain that that was what it was. In plan view it consisted of a small circular stain with a charcoal lens around its perimeter. Narrow and oblong in cross-section, it became ill-de¤ned once the charcoal petered out at about 5 cm in depth, and its very integrity is suspect.
Dark-Stained Areas (VS; n = 2) Two dark, ill-de¤ned stained areas can only be de¤ned as amorphous, shallow smears. Feature 65 contained 25 grams of shell and a smattering of other artifacts, whereas feature 25 contained more artifacts but no shell. The principal element that differentiates this feature type from an artifact concentration is its discoloration, though what it represents is uncertain.
Indeterminate Features (VI; n = 8) These features are designated “indeterminate” because by the time they were recognized as facilities they had been almost completely destroyed. Feature 11, a small, indistinct circular area ¤lled with gray ash, may have been a post mould; and feature 19, a shallow burned area, may have been a ¤replace or a hearth dump. Feature 54, located on the periphery of the site, was discovered by one of our metal detector operators in the process of recovering a gun barrel and a few other associated artifacts. Given its location on the periphery of the site, nobody had anticipated a feature, but by the time the gun barrel had been removed it was apparent that we had dug through what may have been a hearth. The rest of the indeterminate features were probably protohistoric pits. Features 74 and 81 had been truncated by the belly loader to just above their bottoms by the time we recognized them. Feature 74 appeared as a shallow, dark anomaly with gray ¤ll, which yielded quite a few artifacts. Feature 81 consisted of poorly de¤ned dark gray-brown ¤ll containing ®ecks of charcoal and several artifacts. In both cases it is reasonably certain that these were pits of some kind. The last three features uncovered (83–85) were brought to our attention by the Kimberly-Clark Company two to three months after we had left the ¤eld. In the process of moving dirt around, a belly loader operator had uncovered some bones in an area close to the Vore family cemetery, and the company was concerned that the bones might be human. They were not. Only the very bottoms of features 83 and 84 were left by the time we arrived, and very little could be done to salvage them. A little more remained of feature 85; we recovered several artifacts and could discern an outline of the bottom of the pit—enough to speculate that this may once have been bell-shaped, but not enough to be very certain of anything. Interestingly,
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these last three features were located in an area that had already yielded a small cluster of features; at the time we had wondered why we had not found more. SUMM ARY Features from the Lasley Vore site have been separated into 12 types based on shape and inferred function. The most frequent of the feature types was the basin-shaped, curved-bottomed pit (PC). As Dickens suggested, at least some of these may have originated as borrow pits for providing the clay used in house wall construction, a contention that would be dif¤cult to prove or disprove. In any case, their latest use was that of trash receptacle. The largest pit features on the site were basin-shaped, ®at-bottomed (PF); straight-sided, ®at-bottomed (PS); and bell-shaped (PB) pits. Although certain of these types contained unique elements not possessed by the others, they were similar in overall size and variety of content. Dickens classi¤ed features with all of these shapes as storage pits (Dickens 1985), and that assessment may be functionally correct. Irregularly shaped pits are functionally anomalous, but they are similar to the smaller basin-shaped, curved-bottomed pits in overall dimensions and may have served the same purposes. Fire pits were classi¤ed as such because they contained evidence for in situ burning, primarily in the form of oxidized pit walls. Otherwise, their areas and contents were similar to those of the three storage pit types. I suspect that there is some overlap here—that is, that some of the features classi¤ed as pits also experienced in situ burning, but perhaps the ¤re never burned hot enough or was suf¤ciently shielded from the walls that they never oxidized. This interpretation would be consistent with Shockey’s recent experiments with basin-shaped and cube-shaped hearths. He found that cubeshaped hearths, such as most of the pits classi¤ed here as storage and ¤re pits, yielded signi¤cantly higher temperatures than basin-shaped hearths and retained their heat longer (Shockey 1997). In other words, the Lasley Vore storage/¤re pit facilities would have been more ef¤cient as roasting ovens than the basin-shaped pits would have been. In a recent analysis of Pueblo hearths from the American Southwest, Julia Lowell interpreted circular clay-lined and rectangular slab-lined varieties as primarily cooking facilities, whereas circular unlined hearths served mainly for heat and light (Lowell 1995). A major difference here is that the Southwestern ¤replaces were obviously made and used exclusively for ¤res, though the purposes of the ¤res may have differed. At Lasley Vore a substantial amount of roasting, probably mainly of deer and bison meat, appears to have been conducted in pits of the same types as those used for storage. Since the methods we employed to distinguish in situ burning were not very re¤ned, it is probable that in situ burning occurred in features designated as storage pits, as well as in those designated as hearths. But this kind of ambiguity is consistent with the nature of Wichita features: those that ended
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up as ¤re hearths may have started out as storage pits, and vice versa. The hearth dumps, on the other hand, probably represent a functionally coherent category, but there were only two of them. Another coherent category was the shell cache, of which there were three. These exhibited considerable variability in size, but all consisted of small, tightly packed heaps of whole mussel shells. Coherence cannot be said to have been a characteristic of artifact concentrations, however. These were designated as such because they did not appear to have been contained in a pit, but, given their location at the base of the plow zone, they may have existed at the very bottom of pits that went unrecognized in the ¤eld, they may represent parts of small dumps, or they may indeed have been artifacts being preserved for future use. In general, features at the Lasley Vore site are consistent with the seminomadic mobility system associated with the protohistoric Wichita. Annual or semiannual movement onto the Plains to hunt bison would have induced the Wichita to store their produce and usable items in large pits, which are found on the site in moderate abundance, in order to conceal them from their enemies while they were away from camp. Some of these were ¤re pits, which would have been useful for roasting large quantities of meat. Some of the anomalies, such as the two features full of charred corn kernels and the pit with the reconstructable metate fragments, challenge conventional interpretation and will need to be explained in relation to the other evidence.
6 Teasing Meaning from Bits and Pieces
The Lasley Vore site was a Native American encampment, a conclusion evidenced by its structure, its facilities, and its objects of material culture, or artifacts. Artifacts constitute our principal forms of evidence for interpreting who occupied the place, when they were there, and what they were doing while they were there. This chapter will present the objects excavated from the site by material class as though they represented a single occupation. As we shall see, they do. FAU NA L R EM A INS
Food Elements Faunal remains were analyzed by Bonnie Yates and Marie Brown of the University of North Texas Laboratory of Zooarchaeology; their complete report is presented as appendix 3, from which much of the following will be excerpted. Faunal elements are differentially preserved both across the site and with depth (even within one feature); the reasons for this are unclear. The abundant evidence for pit burning recognized among the features is supported by the bones, as 40 percent of the deer and bison bones from the site exhibit some evidence of having been burned. The list of faunal remains, presented in Table 6.1, demonstrates a broad exploitation of several environmental zones. The riverine area is well represented by four species of aquatic turtles and three major families of ¤shes, in addition to the several molluscan, avian, and mammalian species that would have favored riverine habitats. Although burrowing rodents can become incorporated into an archaeological deposit through natural means, and small mammals may be dropped onto a site by predators, it is probable in this case that at least some, if not most, of these species were purposely exploited in a diffuse subsistence strategy. The greatest proportion of edible meat consisted of deer and bison. The remains of at least four deer were recovered, an amount that undoubtedly underestimates the number that were originally exploited. Toe bones dominate the sample and some types of long bone are underrepresented but, in
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general, the wide array of deer elements present suggests onsite butchery. The nine left scapulae from bison might represent the exploitation of that number of individuals, but, given that these elements were frequently utilized as agricultural tools, they may have been brought to the settlement from somewhere else as curated implements. The only other bison elements of which minimum number of individuals (MNI) can be determined, two sets of left foreleg bones, indicates, as in the case of the deer sample, an exploited animal population much lower than needed to support the number of people that other lines of evidence indicate resided in the village. Thus it is clear that the number of individuals indicated from the recovered faunal assemblage is too low to have sustained very many people for a very long time. I think there are two causes for this. First, much of the butchery was probably accomplished offsite in areas not investigated archaeologically. Second, a large proportion of the onsite bones probably ended up in the plow zone, perhaps concentrated in speci¤c places such as Mr. Kays’s mounds. A century of plowing would have exposed most of these bones to the elements, speeding their deterioration and ultimate disappearance.
Bone Tools At least 16 bison scapulae, illustrated in Figures A3.1 and A3.2, were recovered. Based on the presence of polish, many of these were utilized for hoeing, an activity that was crucial to the agricultural success of the settlement. Yates and Brown (appendix 3) have uncovered a patterned trajectory in the manufacture of bison scapula hoes—actually two trajectories, depending on whether a metal knife or a metal axe was used to remove the spine and posterior border. The bison scapula digging tool, exempli¤ed by several specimens from Lower Walnut Phase settlements in south-central Kansas (Hawley and Haury 1994:36; Hofman 1989:94; Wedel 1959:578), is common on late prehistoric sites in the southern Plains. A range of other bone and antler tools, listed in Table 6.2, was also un-
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Fig. 6.1. Clockwise from top: deer metapodial awl, deer antler billet, gar scale gaming piece, bone bracelet fragment.
earthed exclusively from features, of which four of the best preserved and most interesting are shown in Figure 6.1. The awl, excavated in pristine condition from feature 9, was fashioned from the metapodial of a white-tailed deer, and the billet to its right was made from deer antler. The other two objects are more functionally ambiguous, but a minor drawback like this has never discouraged archaeologists from speculating on what they might have been. The larger of the two is a thin, broken strap cut out of bone, one end of which contains a hole. It may have been a bracelet or part of a larger pendant.1 The diamond-shaped object is a gar scale with a small hole bored in its convex surface. This may have been a gaming piece, perhaps used for betting (the side with the hole was heads?). POT TERY
Characteristics Frequencies of plain, incised, and punctate ceramic sherds from the site, as initially inventorized, are presented in Table 6.3. The de¤nitive analysis of Lasley Vore pottery styles and techniques has been accomplished by Joe Thompson (appendix 4). He divided the assemblage into seven major classes of pottery, of which four relate to speci¤c types: Cowley Plain, Deer Creek Simple Stamped, Deer Creek Brushed, and Womack Engraved. Three classes, which Thompson called Undesignated Shell-Tempered Incised (USTI), Undesignated Shell-Tempered Punctated (USTP), and Miscellaneous Undesignated, are generalized categories for which evidence is insuf¤cient to place a
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sherd into a known type. The frequencies of sherds and whole vessels employed in Thompson’s analysis are tabulated in Table 6.4. His analysis included only rim fragments and decorated sherds—that is, no undecorated body sherds and no data from whole vessels were incorporated into the rim and body sherd data set. Most of the vessels on the site are jars, though bowls are not uncommon, and almost all of the pottery is shell-tempered. Re¤tting has allowed the reconstruction of large portions of four vessels, all of which are jars. The largest of these is a globular storage jar with rows of ¤ngernail-crimped punctates around the neck (see Figure 6.2). It is shell-tempered but does not fall into any of the established pottery types for the region, so Thompson placed it in his Undesignated Shell-Tempered Punctated (USTP) category. Several decorative techniques were employed in manufacturing the ceramic assemblage. Besides ¤ngernail crimping, punctated designs were applied with a tubular rod, stylus, or other instrument. One example of this
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Fig. 6.2. Large reconstructed ¤ngernail-punctated, USTP storage jar.
style is a partially reconstructed vessel with rows of poked punctates along the shoulder. It is a short conceptual leap from poking to incising, and we found several pots with incised decorations in the form of straight or curved lines, chevrons and ¤lled areas, located mostly in the upper regions of the pot. A rather unique example has a row of inverted Vs along the shoulder. Among the more interesting ceramic ¤nds from Lasley Vore are the clay smoking pipe bowls (see Figure 6.3). Six individual pipe bowls appear to be represented in the assemblage, though during the excavation we thought we had only one (a nearly complete bowl found in two pieces, shown at the upper center in the illustration). The presence of the others became apparent only while re¤tting fragments in the lab.
General Interpretations Thompson has compared the Lasley Vore pottery with late prehistoric and protohistoric assemblages from nearby regions. With respect to tempering material, rim attributes, vessel volume, and other characteristics, the pottery from Lasley Vore is very similar to that from the known Wichita villages of Deer Creek and Bryson-Paddock up the Arkansas a few miles near Ponca
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Fig. 6.3. Pro¤les of the ceramic pipe bowl fragments.
City (Hartley and Miller 1977; Sudbury 1975). It is only slightly less similar to late prehistoric assemblages from the Neosho and Fort Coffee foci in eastern Oklahoma, the Norteño focus in northern Texas, and the Great Bend aspect collections in Kansas, all of which are probably Wichita or Kichai related.2 The Lasley Vore assemblage is dominated by shell-tempered pottery, much of which has been typed as Cowley Plain. This suggests that, although such pottery need not have been manufactured at this particular settlement, most of it was probably manufactured at least by related groups of people. The closeness and nature of the relationship will be explored later with respect to the clays from which this pottery was made. From the evidence presented by Thompson, only a few of the sherds exhibit differences of suf¤cient magnitude to postulate that they were made by a cultural group different in a major way from the rest. Some of them are similar to the Nash Neck Banded or other Mississippian-related types of southeastern North America, but the examples from the site are so infrequent and fragmented that we cannot be certain where they came from. The group for which the best evidence of their exotic nature exists are the six sherds of the Womack Engraved type, named after an archaeological site in northern Texas. These have been identi¤ed on the basis of their ¤ne clay matrix, sand temper, and linear designs, including tick marks and crosshatching. From evidence at other sites at which the interior of the bowls, rather than the exterior surfaces, showed traces of burning, these vessels may indicate a special function (Rohrbaugh 1982a:60). However, the evidence from Lasley Vore is too scanty to tell how the pots arrived at the site or what they were used for.
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STONE TOOL S
Structure of the Assemblage Based on the fundamental properties of stone, the tools employed by the inhabitants of the Lasley Vore settlement can be dichotomized into two major groups: (1) brittle, ¤ne-grained siliceous rocks used in activities such as chopping, whittling, piercing, and cutting, in which a relatively sharp edge or projection is needed to sever or split materials (called “chipped stone” here); and (2) coarse-grained stones typically used to grind or pound materials, or percussive implements such as ground celts or axes, manufactured by abrasive techniques. At Lasley Vore, tools of the latter kind do not exist, though a fragment of one may be represented in the Ground Stone Indeterminate category. These raw material-based groups are cross-cut by two organizational categories employed largely to separate out entities that archaeologists have traditionally considered important—that is, the modi¤ed or shaped elements placed into types and termed tools (whether or not they were actually utilized as such by the ancient occupants). Following usage in the Midwest, items are included in this type collection upon the presence of intentional edge retouch or, in the case of rough stone, the occurrence of marks left by intentional grinding or pecking activities. Nonsecondarily modi¤ed siliceous stones produced by human activities (®akes, etc.) are placed in a category called debris or debitage (the two terms are synonymous in this study).3 The description of the Lasley Vore lithic assemblage that follows is taken from Odell’s analysis in appendix 5, which was oriented primarily toward comparing stone tools from feature clusters in the interest of ascertaining what kind of site this was. The following account will deal with the basic characteristics of the assemblage, leaving questions based on provenience for later.
Type Groups Types in the Lasley Vore assemblage have been tabulated in Table 6.5 by the units in which they were found. Breakdowns of these categories by subtype and raw material classes are presented in appendix 5. A relatively wide variety of types is represented, suggesting the utilization of implements for a similarly large array of activities. Perhaps the most striking single element of this list is the abundance of scrapers, at almost 30 percent of the collection. They come in several varieties, depending mainly on the shape of the object and the location of retouch on it: end, side, distolateral (retouched on both end and side), spurred, and thumbnail. End and distolateral subtypes constitute the lion’s share of the scraper category. Almost all scrapers were made on ®akes. Most of the other type groups—that is, burins, denticulates, drills, gravers, notched pieces, and wedges—were also made predominantly on ®akes.
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The most abundant of these, constituting almost 20 percent of the type collection, are retouched pieces. These ad hoc tools were not manufactured to an established form but fashioned to suit the exigencies of the moment. Bifacial production, a technique of working ®int on both faces, was not pursued as frequently as reduction from ®ake cores but was nevertheless an important part of the assemblage. Bifaces were mostly fragmentary. Although this condition may relate to having been plowed up often, it was
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more likely associated with the rather long distance between this settlement and the nearest source of superior tool stone. The need to conserve resources induced tool users to fabricate new tools from old ones, causing excessive fragmentation of larger pieces such as bifaces, which would have been prime candidates for reuse into other tool forms.4 Of those bifaces for which reduction stage could be determined, most relate to initial edging, suggesting that the inhabitants were bringing their ®int into the settlement as nodules or cores rather than as ®akes already removed from their parent rock. This impression is corroborated by the moderately abundant cortication ®akes— that is, ®akes with the outside rind still present on their dorsal surfaces, which are usually the ¤rst portions to be removed from a stone core. The end product for many objects on the bifacial trajectory was the projectile point. More than three-quarters of these are small triangular objects labeled Fresno and Maud points, which served as arrowheads. Several larger points, including Ellis, Langtry, Gary, and Williams types, are also present. Although it is impossible to categorically deny that these points were fashioned by the same people who made the Fresno and Maud arrowheads, it is likely that they were brought to the site from any of the previously occupied Archaic sites that existed nearby on a lower terrace. As far as we know, ground stone technology for such tools as celts, axes, and adzes did not exist at this settlement. Rough stone such as quartzite and sandstone was used primarily for grinding, as half of the nonchipped stone collection consists of manos and metates. Charred corn kernels found in two of the features leave little doubt about the intended object of attention, though the occupants probably also ground other items such as nuts and pigments. Hammers were also popular for domestic activities, as well as for the initial working of bifaces and core tools. And abraders were employed to sharpen the bone pins and awls for which we have evidence, as well as for pigments, stone tool working, and other tasks. All of the implements discussed so far were part of the Native American component; the only stone tools associated with the visiting Europeans consist of six gun®ints. Two of these were relatively unworn and retained their original nearly square shape; the others were worn on various parts of their periphery. The nearly square specimens from Lasley Vore correspond to conventional French gun®ints, which were usually manufactured from thick blades and possessed one or two dorsal ridges. The other kind of French gun®int, the semicircular, or spall, variety, is absent from the site. The remainder are known as Indian gun®ints, which can be square or ovoid and are usually invasively retouched on all edges.5
Function Research on the Lasley Vore lithic assemblage reported so far concerns the forms of the tools and the ways they were made. Inferences from such studies can only be suggestive of the uses to which implements were put, because
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they rest on the archaeologist’s concepts of what a tool should have been used for, based on experiments or ethnography, rather than on direct evidence of what tools actually were used for. Put simply, technoformal techniques are not suitable for evaluating function. Appropriate for this task are studies of residue, as well as evaluations of the wear produced on tool edges and surfaces through utilization, termed use-wear analysis. This type of research has been extensively tested and has proven effective in a wide array of situations.6 Odell analyzed for use-wear a large sample of Lasley Vore type collection tools and debitage (appendix 5). The principal motive for this work was to compare the ¤ve largest feature clusters with one another, and the results of that study will be reported when we broach that topic in a later chapter. At this point let us concern ourselves with the general functional characteristics of the assemblage. The most striking result is the prodigious amount of hide scraping at the settlement—very similar to the contemporaneous Bryson-Paddock and Deer Creek sites, which functioned essentially as Taovaya processing centers for the trade in bison hides with Europeans (Wedel 1981). It appears that hide processing was also an important element of life at the Lasley Vore site. The stone scraper is, of course, only the working end of what was, in most cases, a larger composite tool. An antler handle for such a tool was discovered at the Kruse site, a closely related protohistoric settlement in the Great Bend region of Kansas (Rohn and Emerson 1984:175–176) and is illustrated at the right side of Figure 6.4; at left is the same scraping tool hypothetically inserted into a wooden handle. Other activities represented at Lasley Vore are woodworking, tool maintenance, hunting, food processing, and the grinding of foodstuffs, bone tools, and inorganic compounds.
Raw Materials I am using the lithic type collection as a representative subset of the assemblage by which to evaluate the sources of raw material from which stone tools were made. Most of the raw materials represented are siliceous, primarily cherts (see Table 6.6). Of these, more than half originated in the Ozarks. They are dominated by Reeds Spring chert, a gray stone of Mississippian geological age that is often ¤ne-grained and vitreous when heat treated, but they also include a moderate representation of white Keokuk and black Moore¤eld cherts and a smattering of samples from the Cotter, Elsey, Penters, and Pierson Formations. Although Ozark cherts dominate, siliceous stones from other regions also found their way into the assemblage. Three types from southeastern Oklahoma or southwestern Arkansas, including Johns Valley and Frisco cherts and novaculite, suggest contact with this region. More than 10 percent of the assemblage consists of Florence A chert from the southern Flint Hills of north-central Oklahoma and south-central Kansas. The existence of this ma-
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Fig. 6.4. Right: antler scraper handle discovered at the K ruse site, Kansas (reproduced from Rohn and Emerson 1984:176); left: the scraper hypothetically inserted into a wooden handle. (Courtesy Wichita State University)
terial is not surprising, given Wichita settlement distribution along the Arkansas R iver during the eighteenth century and the existence of the roughly contemporaneous Deer Creek and Bryson-Paddock sites near Ponca City. Siliceous materials were transported into this region from even further away than this. The source area for Alibates silici¤ed dolomite is the Texas panhandle, though workable nodules of this material have been recovered from Canadian R iver gravels all the way from western Oklahoma to Haskell County, near its embouchure with the Arkansas (Kraft 1997; Wyckoff 1993). The presence of ¤ve pieces of this material in the Lasley Vore type collection suggests some contact with areas of the West, though this contact may not have been direct. And four pieces that originated near the Knife R iver of North Dakota pose a similar situation with respect to that region. The social
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mechanisms that may have induced the introduction of lithic materials from disparate regions to this settlement include visitation by the entire population or by small procurement parties on a seasonal round, visitation through ¤ctive kin relationships, barter in a market exchange system, gifts, and longdistance or down-the-line trade. Most of the igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary stones that constitute the rough stone component were probably local in origin. Well over half of this material is sandstone, though a moderate amount of quartzite and a few pieces of limestone, quartz, and granite, which are locally rare, were also employed. Some of the hematite and limonite found on the site exhibit sur¤cial striations from grinding, perhaps to make pigments.
Summary and Interpretations Tools from the Lasley Vore assemblage were manufactured predominantly from ®ake cores, but a substantial bifacial tradition also existed. The bifaces and many of the other tool types are highly fragmented, a condition re®ecting economizing behavior related to the necessity of traveling some distance for suitable raw material sources, since the immediate area contains little of its own. The production of ground stone is not represented, but rough stone, dominated by pounding and grinding tools such as hammers, abraders, and manos, is moderately abundant. The assemblage contains a suf¤ciently wide variety of types to postulate that several different activities are represented, an impression con¤rmed subsequently by a use-wear analysis. This study indicated that hide scraping was practiced throughout the settlement, in addition to food preparation, tool and weapons maintenance, hunting, and woodworking. This is a rather wide range of activities, suggesting that Lasley Vore was probably a camp at which people performed those activities necessary for sustaining life for relatively prolonged periods of time. The inhabitants of this site appear intimately connected with the Ozark region, as more than half of their chert derives from there. The relative abundance of Florence A chert also bespeaks a connection with the Flint Hills, not far up the Arkansas R iver. I suspect that these two regions were visited frequently by at least portions of the population, whereas the lesser-utilized chert types represent regions visited less often by small segments of the population, or they arrived at the settlement through trade or barter. EUROPEA N ITEMS An interesting characteristic of the Lasley Vore site is the clear association of European trade goods with Native American artifacts. European traders brought with them large quantities of tradable items, some of which, such as cloth, would have been preserved only under unusual circumstances. The European items present in the Lasley Vore assemblage, glass beads and met-
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Fig. 6.5. Sample of bead types.
als, are treated separately here, re®ecting differences in their manufacture and origin.
Glass Beads General Characteristics Glass beads at the Lasley Vore site have been analyzed in appendix 6 by Frieda Odell-Vereecken and by Mary Elizabeth Good, whose work at the Guebert site, a Kaskaskia Indian village in Illinois (Good 1972), has provided one of the soundest analyses of European trade beads in the literature. The principal bead types discovered at the settlement have been photographed in Figure 6.5 and tabulated in Table 6.7. The potato of the bead trade represented at the Lasley Vore site is the plain white variety, which constitutes 56 percent of the total inventory of 184 items. A distant second at 10 percent is a white bead with blue stripes, most frequently in sets of three. Of the other colors represented, various shades of blue were most popular, followed by green. More rare are the black
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faceted bead, the clear beads, and the mulberry bead, which was found on the site and donated by colleague and collector George Marchetti. The light blue bead with red and white stripes (ninth from the top in Figure 6.5) was the one that, upon seeing it displayed in my hand on a nightly television news program, almost made Mary Elizabeth drop the dinner she was carrying on the lap of her unsuspecting husband, Lee. Such are the hazards of scholarship. Most of the beads in the collection were drawn, after which they were tumbled into their present shape. Two of the clear beads were wound, suggesting some heterogeneity in manufacturing technique. The existence of a mulberry bead also indicates manufacturing diversity, in this case either by a mold or by an applique technique on a core bead (see appendix 6). Beads from Features Most of the beads were recovered from features because our excavation strategy ultimately concentrated on features, they provided lovely repositories for round forms that were easily swept into them, and they were the only units that received the bene¤t of the ®otation technique. This technique, explained previously, allowed the recovery not only of ®oatable paleobotanical remains, but also of tiny pieces that were barely large enough to be caught in the window screen on the bottom of the ®otation device, thus ending up in our non®oated fraction. This was the only way we could sys-
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tematically recover anything as small as seed beads, and it increased our sample of larger bead fragments, as well. The type of feature in which these beads ended up is tallied in Table 6.8. This table presents the amount and percentage of features of each type that contained beads; the quantity and proportion of beads in each feature type; and a bead index calculated by dividing the number of beads by the number of features of that type. Averages are provided for the percentage of features with beads and for the bead index. The results show some differences between the basin-shaped, curvedbottomed pits (PC) and the larger receptacles (PF, PS, and PB), most of which probably originally functioned as storage pits. The most proli¤c bead receptacles were the 10 bell-shaped pits (PB), 8 of which held beads and which contained 34 percent of the beads found in features. By contrast, only about a quarter of the small basin-shaped pits contained beads and these amounted to less than 10 percent of the number found in features. Even more of a contrast is shown in the bead index, which registers almost ¤ve beads per feature in the bell-shaped pits but fewer than one per feature in the basin-shaped pits. The other large pit types—straight-sided (PS) and ®atbottomed (PF)—register between these two extremes. This index might suggest that several of them had originally served a purpose similar to that of the bell-shaped pits, or it could simply mean that these pits were larger than average and would have received more garbage in the normal course of sweeping. More than half of the ¤re pits (HP) also contained beads, and
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their bead index is rather high (2.29/feature), which indicates that ¤re pits also ended up as bead receptacles and may originally have been regarded as similar in function to the larger storage pits (though they were also larger). Concluding Remarks It would be nice to be able to provide some de¤nitive information on the methods and places of manufacture of the beads found at the Lasley Vore site. Unfortunately, in the early eighteenth century colonizing European nations dealt with about three or four major manufacturing loci (for example, Amsterdam, Venice, Bohemia). It is dif¤cult to tell which of these factories (or other minor centers) manufactured any given bead. It would also be nice to provide information on the cargoes of speci¤c traders. La Harpe’s diary lists a few of the items carried by his entourage for trade with the Wichita, but this is an incomplete list (beads, for example, are not mentioned) and no quantities are given. In some French colonial situations we do know speci¤c inventories, but these only provide guidelines for interpreting our speci¤c case. However, despite the lack of speci¤c information on the beads from the Lasley Vore site, we have a basic comprehension of how this product functioned in the general scheme of European colonization. And as far as similarities with beads from other French-contact Indian settlements, the Lasley Vore specimens ¤t in well with all of these assemblages.7
Metal Products Inventory A list of metal artifacts found in the various excavation units is presented in Table 6.9, taken from a more detailed analysis in appendix 7. Although the inventory is not as extensive as that of protohistoric sites farther south, where trade was less encumbered by obstructionist tribes such as the Osage and Missouri, considerable variety exists.8 The greatest quantity was recovered through use of metal detectors, by operators who were searching exclusively for these objects. In addition, several items of metal probably also ended up in dumps, some of which probably correspond to our areas. Twenty-one metal objects were recovered from features. No particular kind of item appears to have been favored for deposition in a pit, as a variety of specimens, from gun parts to knife blades to containers and utensils, was represented. The kinds of pits in which they were deposited also exhibit little favoritism (see Table 6.10), although small sample sizes hamper our ability to make de¤nitive statements on the matter. The three probable storage pit types (PF, PS, PB) contained the most metal artifacts, and all three were above average in numbers of features with metals and in the metal index (mean number of metal artifacts per feature). On the other hand, these were also the largest of the features and therefore would have been more likely than smaller pits to have received items through cleaning activities. Smaller
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basin-shaped pits (PC) contained a quarter of the metal objects found in features, but these pits constitute about a quarter of the total features found at the site. Individual Artifacts Metal artifacts are informative of the nature of the trade occurring between Europeans and Native Americans. A salient element in this trade is the inclusion of ¤rearms. This fact almost assures that the Spanish were not involved, as they maintained a strict policy against trading ¤rearms and munitions to their Indian allies (Hyde 1951:64–65; Newcomb 1961:108). A variety of gun parts is represented, of which several of the more decorative elements are photographed in Figure 6.6. These include sidepieces, butt plates, a thumb plate escutcheon, a trigger, trigger guards, and ¤nials of trigger guards or butt plates. Most of the gun parts are broken and therefore unusable for most purposes, which explains their discard. Decorative elements on some of these fragments are very similar to those on pieces from other protohistoric settlements that partook of the French trade, demonstrating their fundamental contemporaneity.9 Particularly interesting are the right half of a side plate featuring a monster mask replete with extra-strength canines (see top center of Figure 6.6 and Figure 6.7) and a thumb plate escutcheon in the form of an owl (see Figure 6.6, lower right). My favorite is a small, round happy face that may document a Frenchman’s interpretation of a Spaniard (see Figure 6.8). Possessing a 15 mm-long square
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Fig. 6.6. Clockwise from upper left: trigger guard bow, half of sidepiece of musket, broken portion of sidepiece, butt plate, owl thumb plate escutcheon, trigger, part of rear tang of trigger guard, butt plate ¤nial; (center) trigger guard bow.
Fig. 6.7. Closeup of ¤rearm sidepiece showing central monster mask.
rod extending backward from the nose, this object probably served as the butt plate of a pistol. Portions of guns relating to their essential function were also found, including a ®intlock hammer, or cock, a couple of top jaws to cocks, a frizzen spring, a sear, and a couple of triggers, shown in Figure 6.9. The barrel proved to be the easiest object for our metal detector operators to locate,
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Fig. 6.8. Butt plate of a pistol.
Fig. 6.9. Parts of gun mechanisms. Clockwise from upper left: cock top jaw, front sight, frizzen spring, cock or hammer, sear, trigger.
for six were discovered, mostly in metal detector units. They are usually octagonal in cross section, though corrosion often obscures this characteristic. The redeployment of tools for purposes other than those for which they were originally intended is a common characteristic of this assemblage. In the case of gun barrels, the original gun eventually became unable to function as a ¤rearm because of lack of maintenance, parts, or ammunition, so
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Fig. 6.10. Four iron ax heads.
barrels were converted into hammers. Another example of recycling is the butt plate in the upper right corner of Figure 6.6. When the ¤rearm to which it was attached failed to perform, this piece was removed and employed as a scraper. Evidence of scraping is present near the splayed part, which is rounded and contains striations perpendicular to its working edge. Ax heads, which at Lasley Vore were exclusively of the eyed, or socketed, variety, were also recycled when necessary.10 For example, three of the four axes in Figure 6.10 have relatively extensive blade portions, but that is because they broke rather early in their use-lives. Two (upper right and lower left of Figure 6.10) broke at the socket and were subsequently employed as wedges, as the pounding marks on their proximal ends indicate. A third (lower right) broke early and in the middle of the blade. Note how wide and usable the edges of these ax heads are. In contrast, the socket on the specimen on the upper left was never broken, which meant that it retained its usefulness as an axe. Because of this, it was utilized and sharpened to the point that its blade was so small that it could hardly penetrate a tree anymore. This amount of wear probably took a long time to accomplish.11 Besides axes, other tools and weapons were unearthed. The most abundant of these were cutting tools, including the knife blade and razor shown in Figure 6.11. These were probably utilitarian in nature, but other evidence leads us to believe that military knives, or daggers, were also present on the settlement. The oval object in the center of Figure 6.11, for instance, was a hand guard for a dagger or sword, which ¤tted between the handle and the blade. The spoon or fork handle on the left in the ¤gure also attests to the presence of more mundane activities. Perhaps the most ubiquitous products of recycling were the tinkling cones
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Fig. 6.11. Utilitarian metal objects. Clockwise from top: knife blade, razor blade, two tinkling cones, handle guard for dagger or sword, spoon handle.
shown at right center in Figure 6.11. These appear to have originally been rolled from sheets of brass. It has traditionally been thought that they did not arrive at Indian villages in this form, but as larger objects such as brass kettles. When the kettles wore out, they were cut into small pieces, rolled, and fastened to the edges of garments with leather thongs to provide an auditory effect in the dance (hence, “tinklers”). Research by Marvin Smith, however, has indicated that, in many cases, European traders themselves cut out these items for the New World trade.12 Whatever their origin, 13 of these were recovered, demonstrating their popularity. Impressions Two impressions are left by this metal assemblage. The ¤rst is the rather large variety of objects, from utilitarian kitchenware to ornaments to weapons. The French dealt in a vast array of items, though not in such quantities as the British, who were more keen on the deer skin trade (Brown 1992:24). The specimens left at the Lasley Vore settlement are, of course, a meager vestige of the items that used to be there but were transported off the site, perished through decay (for example, cloth), or were originally on the site but not excavated. The second impression is one of abundant reuse and recycling. Numerous examples of this phenomenon have been marshaled, including a ®intlock butt plate later used as a scraper, ax heads becoming wedges, gun barrels employed as hammers, and worn copper kettles (perhaps) being recycled as tinkling cones. Evidence of recycling will occur on most settlements that experienced a paucity of at least one kind of resource, but the Lasley Vore settlement
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appears to possess more of this kind of evidence than most other sites of its era. INTER PR ETATIONS All of the material classes in the artifact assemblage strongly suggest that Lasley Vore was either a single-occupation settlement or a place to which people from one cultural group returned periodically. Ceramic production associated with this group is consistent with pottery identi¤ed with Wichita or Kichai occupations of other sites in Texas, Oklahoma, and Kansas. Much of that pottery has been classi¤ed as Cowley Plain ware, but decorative elements also include incisions, punctations, and a rare technique known as simple stamped. Judging from chronologically varied seasonal indicators among the faunal remains, people probably occupied this locale during all parts of the year. Excavated food remains do not appear to be suf¤cient to support a large village for very long, but this can be explained by two factors: (1) most bones ended up in the plow zone, where processes of deterioration accelerate; and (2) much of the butchery occurred offsite or in areas not archaeologically investigated. The food remains recovered represent a varied diet indicating the exploitation of several ecological zones, particularly riverine, forest edge, and plains. Although by meat weight the diet is dominated by deer and bison, ¤sh, reptiles, amphibians, and small mammals were also hunted. Judging from the abundance of small triangular points, many of which contain impact damage, the favored hunting strategy was by bow and arrow. Plentiful cut marks on animal bones indicate that a considerable amount of butchery occurred onsite. About 40 percent of the bones were burned, suggesting the cooking of meat on the bone. Given the ethnographic accounts of pit roasting of bison and other animals on the Plains, as well as the abundant evidence of burning within the larger pits at the site itself, it is likely that much of the food consumed at the Lasley Vore settlement was prepared by roasting in pits. Because vegetal remains are more perishable, we are less certain which of them were consumed or in what amounts. The recovery of several manos and metates indicates that vegetal products were ground, and corn was recovered from at least two features. Given that the alluvial terrace below the site has provided productive acreage for modern farmers, the opportunity to farm this area would certainly have been open to the eighteenth-century inhabitants. Food storage facilities abounded at the site in the form of large pits and ceramic jars. Several activities have been identi¤ed. Abundant stone chipping debris, including cortication ®akes produced in the early stages of stone tool reduction, indicate that the production of tools occurred on the site itself. The occupants practiced bow and arrow hunting and maintained their weaponry at speci¤c locations. Tool maintenance, woodworking, and domestic activities also occurred at speci¤c locales on the site, and hide scraping was ubiq-
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uitous, being the most frequent single activity evidenced in the stone tool data set. It is unclear whether or not pottery was produced here, but the presence of several ceramic pipe bowls indicates that that activity certainly occurred. Contact with distant regions is evident in almost every class of material. Most of the chert for stone tool production originated in the Ozarks, though a hefty proportion came from the Flint Hills of Oklahoma/Kansas, some came from southeastern Oklahoma and Arkansas, and a few pieces even originated as far away as North Dakota and the panhandle of Texas or western Oklahoma. The presence of Nodena points suggests contact with peoples to the east in the Mississippi Valley, whereas Womack Engraved pottery ware is more common to the south, along the Red R iver.13 Then there are the French trade goods, which exist in abundance and in irrefutable association with Native American artifacts. How these goods arrived at the site, whether through visitation, long-distance trade, or down-the-line barter, is unknown. However they were procured, several of these materials were dif¤cult to obtain. This situation caused economizing behavior in several material classes. For example, the Tulsa region possesses no local source of workable ®int, so people had to travel several kilometers north to procure lousy Oologah chert or several more kilometers northwest, east, or southeast to gather better stuff. This is the reason that almost all the bifaces are fragmented; that is, when a tool was expended or new tools were needed, the easiest solution was to break up older tools that were no longer serviceable (in this case, bifaces). This is also the reason there are so few cores: they were bashed to smithereens in producing tools with sharp, usable edges. Similar behavior can be seen in the metals, which were really rare items. When a gun was no longer operable as a ¤rearm, its butt plate might be used as a scraper and its barrel as a hammer. A broken ax head became a wedge, a brass kettle was reduced to tinkling cones, and a pointed piece of an iron pot was fashioned into an awl. These are admittedly tiny pieces of information, but, taken together, they coalesce into a cohesive picture.
7 What Were Those People Doing There?
THE SITUATION The evidence presented so far strongly indicates that the Lasley Vore locale was occupied by a single group of people. The deposits were shallow, occurring exclusively in the plow zone and in features dug below it by the occupants, and no sterile zones separated periods of occupation. Only one occurrence of overlapping features was noted, at the part of the site where digging was easiest. And the features, mostly hearths and pits, aggregated in 10 discernible clusters (see Figure 7.1), a pattern that would assuredly have been blurred if groups had occupied the area intermittently over a longer period. That this occupation was recent has been demonstrated by the artifact styles—particularly the bison scapula hoes, grooved abraders, scrapers, and arrowheads (Fresno, Maud, Nodena)—which have been dated at other locales to late prehistoric contexts. Masses of charred corn kernels, a product that entered the subsistence repertoire of the region about a millennium ago, were recovered from two pit features. The six radiocarbon dates from Vore (see appendix 8) are all consistent with a recent occupation. Finally, European trade goods were discovered in association with the Native American artifacts. The ¤rst known incursion of Europeans in this region was La Harpe’s journey, recounted previously, and the trade goods recovered from the settlement all appear to date to about that time. The question remains: What kind of occupation was this? We would be on ¤rmer ground in answering this if evidence for dwellings had been discernible, but, except for one questionable post mold and some daub, no structural remains were observed. The paucity of evidence for buildings may suggest that the occupation was not very permanent. As we shall see shortly, there is evidence that people from disparate regions occupied the site. If so, could this spot not have served as a sort of trade fair—that is, a place where people aggregated for short periods of time, therefore not necessitating permanent structures? This possibility was mentioned at the time of excavation by Mr. Kays, who had heard that the area had once been used as an
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Fig. 7.1. Locations of the 10 feature clusters at the Lasley Vore site.
Osage stomp ground. However, we have subsequently never been able to verify this contention, nor did we uncover the remains of these people or their activities. The evidence for relative permanence is more compelling. Areally the site covers approximately 1.5 hectares, and substantially more than this if the Hampton site across 131st Street can be considered part of the occupation.
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This is certainly extensive enough to qualify as a village, and its 81 features also do not suggest a temporary occupation. Several of these features were quite substantial cooking and storage pits, some descending a meter or more, and they contained an impressive quantity of material. Speci¤c items such as large storage jars and grinding stones would not have been readily transportable. Finally, the lithic analysis documents a wide range of activities in which stone tools were engaged. The paucity of evidence for structures can be explained by a number of possible scenarios, including conditions similar to those we encountered while digging in the summer of 1988. If I had been compelled to build a house on that soil after ¤ve months of drought, I probably could not have dug the foundations down very deeply no matter how long I planned to stay. For these reasons Lasley Vore appears to be a village, but what were its inhabitants engaged in? Were all occupants part of the same social group, or were visitors among them? And did the settlement articulate with the French in more than a transitory manner? For answering these questions, the best excavated and most undisturbed data set we possess are the 81 features and their contents. I argue that the aggregation of features is not random but has meaning, that it re®ects social and/or economic divisions of some kind. I argue further that the artifacts contained in the features are representative of activities that occurred in their immediate vicinity. With these as working hypotheses and employing the data described in previous chapters, the remainder of this chapter will attempt to learn more about what was happening at the settlement. FEATUR E FUNCTION
Feature Size In chapter 5 we introduced the features and in chapter 6 the artifacts. It is now time to relate these facilities to their contents in order to understand what they represent. The analyses to be presented here depend heavily on statistical algorithms described more fully in appendix 9. A pertinent question is whether the size of a feature bears any relationship to the kind of material contained inside it. For this problem I conducted a series of linear regression analyses, comparing the quantities of pottery, shell, lithic debris, deer, and beads with feature size, for which I used (depth × area). The results show low correlation coef¤cients and no F-scores that are signi¤cant at a .05 level (see appendix 9). We can safely say that there is no signi¤cant relationship between feature size and contents for any of the material classes tested.
Contents: Chi-Square Evaluations Another valid issue is whether or not the proposed function of a feature bears a relationship to materials contained within that feature. Features have been divided into 12 functional categories (see chapter 5), of which ¤ve are
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pits, two are hearth-related facilities, two are concentrations or caches, and three are miscellaneous classes, including a post mold, two dark stains, and several whose function could not be determined. In many of the tests that follow, the bell-shaped (PB), basin-shaped, ®at-bottomed (PF), and straightsided, ®at-bottomed (PS) pits were combined into a “storage pit” category. Chi-square evaluations were deemed appropriate for testing the signi¤cance of associations between feature types and material classes. The results show differences in every test to at least the .001 level of signi¤cance, though with the large sample sizes employed, it might be dif¤cult not to obtain a signi¤cant result with a chi-square test. This phenomenon will be encountered again later and evaluated with the use of other statistical tests, so let us regard the signi¤cance level of these assays with a grain of salt. On the other hand, a comparison of observed and expected differences can suggest real tendencies, so it makes sense to scrutinize the results. Culling the obvious associations and ones that will make little difference later on, these results leave us with a few interesting tendencies. For example, beads and lithic artifacts of all types tended to end up disproportionately in storage pits; ¤re hearths contained more than their share of pottery; and basin-shaped pits were relatively heavily weighted on faunal remains and shell. Conversely, artifact concentrations contained no beads and almost no shell; ¤re hearths contained a relatively small amount of lithic remains; and basinshaped pits contained less pottery than expected.
Contents: Principal Components Analysis Another way to characterize feature function is to submit speci¤c types to principal components analysis, a multivariate technique designed to characterize the variability in the data set by extracting factors of which the ¤rst contains the most variability and succeeding ones, less and less. For this exercise I have considered only the ¤rst factor extracted for each of the six most abundantly represented feature types. Loadings indicate the relative contribution of each variable to the factor extracted. The results, explained in appendix 9, highlight many of the same tendencies as the chi-square tests and introduce a few others—as one might expect, since the probable storage pit types were not lumped as they had been for the chi-square evaluations. Although the goals and mechanics of the two types of tests are completely different, taken together they suggest the importance of the following relationships. Basin-shaped pits are de¤ned on their smaller size, relatively large lithic content, and relative lack of pottery. Storage pits contained the lion’s share of the beads, particularly in the case of ®at-bottomed pits. They also contained the most pottery, as well as a large percentage of the deer and bison bone. Lithic debris was an important constituent of ®at-bottomed and straight-sided pits, but not of bell-shaped ones. And ¤re hearths contained a lot of pottery, but their variability depends on a complex of beads, debris, shell, and deer bone. Artifact concentrations, not evaluated through factor analysis, contained a relatively large amount of
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faunal remains and cortication ®akes but almost no shell or European trade goods. Shell caches, as one might expect, were exceedingly high on shell and very little else. The lack of clear distinctions among feature types is probably caused by two realities. First, judging from ethnographic accounts of Plains Indian tribes, pit structures were employed for a variety of uses, including storage, cooking, and waste. If there was no clear distinction for a particular size and shape of pit for a particular use, then the perceived functions of all these pit types would have been correspondingly smeared. Second, most of the features ended up as garbage dumps. The assumption may be correct that materials swept into a pit re®ect activities performed in the vicinity of that pit, but if several different activities occurred there, then pit contents would be characterized by variable functional indicators—at least with respect to the objects swept into them. For these reasons, then, perhaps we should not expect clear patterning of feature types with respect to content, except for those entities that have been de¤ned on their content (for example, shell caches). THE MEA NING OF CLUSTER S: ETHNIC DI V ISIONS This brings us back to the meaning of feature aggregation at the Lasley Vore settlement. I have argued that, because of the nature of discard and sweeping behaviors, it is likely that objects near pits were swept into them. Therefore, these items should re®ect activities that occurred in the vicinity of the pits, as well as the people who dug them. Hearths and pits do not just clump together as a result of random processes. There must be a reason for their aggregation, whether to situate them in areas of intense activity or, conversely, to get them out of the way. Regardless, the same people probably made and utilized their own facilities— perhaps not exclusively, but because one set of pits was closer to their living quarters or preferred activity locations than other sets. Thus the different feature clusters must be somewhat re®ective of the different groups of people that occupied the site, which were probably organized along lines of kinship. The relationship of features to structures is more problematic. That some spatial relationship exists is evident in most ethnographic and archaeological studies I have run across (for example, Fisher and Strickland 1991; Ward 1985), but whether individual pits and hearths were placed inside or outside dwellings depends on a multiplicity of factors, including season of occupation, feature function, and individual inclination. In the American Southwest, a great deal of variability in pits and hearths has been documented, with ¤re pits having been used for the same kinds of activities inside a house as outside it, though in different frequencies (Lowell 1995; Sobolik et al. 1997). A similar variety of relationships between features and structures has been recorded in the Southeast and Midwest, through both time and space (Mehrer and Collins 1995; Mistovich 1995). At the Longest site, which con-
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stitutes the most comprehensive excavation of protohistoric structures in Oklahoma, the two most completely investigated dwellings show interior hearths but no interior pits (Bell and Bastian 1967a). The situation may have been similar at Lasley Vore, but if the hearths had not been dug into the subsoil, we would never know they existed. The upshot of this discussion is that, without more complete spatial data from late prehistoric sites in this region, we cannot have a very clear picture of where the structures were placed relative to the pit and hearth features. When La Harpe visited the Tawakoni village on the banks of the “Alcansas R iver” in 1719, he was told, “The nations of these establishments are the Touacaras (Tawakoni), Toayas (Tawehash), Caumuche (Comanche), Aderos (Ardeco), Ousitas (Wichita), Ascanis (Yscancis), Quataquois (Kiowa-Apaches), Quicasquiris (Wichita), Honechas (Waco); they can furnish 6,000 persons of all sexes” (Smith 1958–59:526–528). From this statement it is unclear whether “these establishments” refer to the village La Harpe was visiting or the general area. In any case, people of a lot of different ethnic groups were living around there somewhere. Could it be that some of the kin groups responsible for the individual feature clusters were of different ethnic origin from the rest, coming to trade, visit, or gawk at the strange Europeans? If this was the case and they came to stay for awhile, then they may have brought some of their own pottery to use or to trade. And if they did, the clays they used would re®ect their region of origin. Clays develop locally under a variety of conditions, and their elemental composition can be expected to vary depending on local bedrock sources, weathering conditions, and secondary depositional factors. In other words, clays from different regions are likely to be compositionally different, so if people from different regions were inhabiting the Lasley Vore settlement, then this should be re®ected in the clays of the pots they brought with them. We may not be able to determine the original source of the clays, but we should be able to detect if differences exist. This was the issue that Ken Shingleton sought to resolve and that is presented in appendix 10. Given limited resources and time, he decided to employ atomic absorption spectrophotometry (A AS) analysis, a technique based on the principle of differential absorption of light by speci¤c elements, using a cathode lamp, acetylene/air ®ame, and wavelength detectors. Since not all clusters contained pottery, Shingleton compared ground-up sherds from clusters 2, 4, 5, 7, and 8. He tested eight elements, ¤nding four (zinc, manganese, magnesium, and potassium) that discriminated between at least one of the clusters and the rest. Patterns in the data and signi¤cance of the results were evaluated through Student’s t-tests, nonparametric KolmogorovSmirnoff and Mann-Whitney U-tests, discriminant function analysis, multiple analysis of variance, and cluster analysis. The easiest way to visualize the situation is by graphing the results of the Student’s t-tests (see Figure 7.2), in which lines are drawn between clusters
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Fig. 7.2. Diagrammed results of Student’s t-tests of A AS results. Lines denote signi¤cant differences between clusters.
that exhibit statistically signi¤cant (at the .05 level) differences. On this basis, cluster 5 is discriminated from others on manganese, cluster 7 on magnesium and potassium, and cluster 2 on magnesium and zinc, portrayed graphically in Figure 7.3. Shingleton’s analysis is strengthened by the fact that he discovered differences not only among elements in the clays but also in technological attributes of the pottery. Three interval-state variables, body-wall thickness, temper density, and temper size—recorded by the late Harriet Peacher, an invaluable amateur archaeologist—were found to be excellent discriminators among clusters. Two of them, temper size and density, served to separate cluster 7 from the rest, whereas cluster 5 was separable on the basis of wall thickness. Shingleton’s analysis is somewhat incomplete in that time constraints precluded him from testing clay sources from areas around the Lasley Vore site. Theoretically, the elemental variability of clays from source areas near the site should not be as great as the results that Shingleton derived, but we will never know for sure until this issue is tested. Nevertheless, Shingleton’s analysis indicates that differences in pottery clays exist among the clusters
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Fig. 7.3. Signi¤cant bivariate divisions between feature clusters and the elements that caused the divisions in the A AS analysis.
tested, suggesting that the pottery came from different regions. By extension, so did the people. THE MEA NING OF CLUSTER S: ARTIFACT ASSOCIATIONS
Feature Types Feature clusters, of course, could re®ect more differences than just that people from different regions utilized them. Perhaps feature types were restricted to one area of the site, such that one could talk of a speci¤c locale that served to cache shells, or store pipes, or whatever. In investigating this variable I have combined the three feature types that probably served as storage pits (PF, PS, PB), but I have kept the others separate. The distribution of these types, shown in Figure 7.4, suggests that, with few exceptions, each cluster contains a variety of feature types. The exceptions occur in the smaller clusters; for example, cluster 1, which contains two storage pits, and cluster 10, with two storage pits and three others that were almost completely eliminated by a belly loader before we had a chance to look at them. The other clusters appear pretty heterogeneous, the clearest example of this being cluster 3, whose three features were all of a different type. This impression is reinforced when the feature types are graphed by cluster (see Figure 7.5). The area with the most types is cluster 4, but it also contains
Fig. 7.4. Distribution of feature types on the site, combining the three probable storage pit types.
Fig. 7.5. Individual feature types within each cluster.
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the largest quantity of features. It is clear from the graph and the map that the various feature types were spread widely around the settlement.
Feature Contents Chi-Square Evaluations If features re®ect the events and activities that occurred near them, then we should look to their contents for information about these parameters. Using the ¤ve most abundant feature clusters (2, 4, 5, 7, 8), I employed chi-square statistics to compare categories within classes of similar materials (for example, shell weight and faunal remains), then for mixed material classes. The results, tabulated in appendix 9, show differences in all cases to at least the .02 level of signi¤cance. I will consider these results, along with relevant distribution maps, by material class. The distribution of ceramic sherds found on the site (see Figure 7.6) shows a concentration in cluster 4 and smaller occurrences in clusters 5, 7 and 8. This is also essentially the distribution of plain and incised pottery considered separately (not shown here), although punctated and impressed ceramic styles were concentrated almost exclusively in cluster 4. Incidentally, daub was also recovered almost exclusively from cluster 4, with a few pieces in C5. The weight of the pottery from C4 was relatively more dominant even than the number of sherds found there, contributing to a signi¤cant X2 result. The map of lithic debris (see Figure 7.7) shows that stone tools and chippage were found throughout the site. Distributions of the major divisions of the lithic industry are all very similar (and are therefore not shown here), though with a small propensity for cortication ®akes in clusters 5 and 7, noncortex ®akes in C8, and retouched tools in C4—which caused the result to be signi¤cant at the .02 level. With respect to type collection objects, scrapers and projectile points were ubiquitous, at least among the larger clusters. Retouched pieces had a central-southerly distribution, particularly in clusters 4, 5, 7, and 8; and manos had a similar distribution, but with greater emphasis on C4 and C8. Bifaces were spread around several features, particularly in the western portion of the site, whereas abraders were concentrated in C4 and C5, with smaller occurrences in C7, C8, and C10. Bone tools were found primarily in C4, with a few in C1, C2, C5, and C7, but none at all in the east or northeast. European trade goods exhibit west-central proclivities, though they were recovered in small quantities from all over the site. Beads were concentrated in cluster 4, with a secondary emphasis in C5 and a smattering in several other clusters (see Figure 7.8). Though fewer metal objects than beads were recovered from features, their distribution is similar to that of the beads and is not illustrated here. Most of the metal items discovered in features were concentrated in C4, with a few from C5 and C8 and one apiece from C2 and C6.
Fig. 7.6. Distribution of potsherds.
Fig. 7.7. Distribution of lithic debris.
Fig. 7.8. Distribution of glass trade beads.
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Of all the distributions of material from the Lasley Vore site, the faunal relationships are the most interesting. The map of combined fauna (see Figure 7.9) demonstrates that animal bones were recovered in at least moderate quantities from all of the principal feature clusters, with an additional concentration in cluster 9. The interest comes in considering the faunal categories separately. Reptile bones show characteristics similar to the combined faunal distribution (without the concentration in C9), but the other categories exhibit more geographically speci¤c distributions. For instance, bison (see Figure 7.10) were distributed toward the west and south with a large concentration in C4, a pattern similar to that of the small mammal bones (not shown). Deer bones, however, were concentrated in the east in clusters 7, 8, and 9, without the emphasis on C4 (see Figure 7.11). These patterns are completely different from the bird bones (see Figure 7.12), which were distributed almost exclusively in the central part of the settlement (C4 and C8), and from the ¤sh bones (see Figure 7.13), which were concentrated in the northwest (C2) and south (C7), with a few recovered in C8. Shell, as may be suspected, was concentrated in the shell caches. These distributions could be interpreted to indicate a different seasonal use for each of the clusters. This may have been the case, but, if so, one would have to explain those elements that indicate that the various parts of the settlement were occupied contemporaneously, as discussed at the beginning of this chapter. The most dif¤cult to reconcile with such a position would be the existence of clearly delineated feature clusters with only one overlapping pit. Surely a group returning to this locale in a different season would use already existing structures or, if buildings had been dismantled, would occupy the same ground but differently; that is, their storage and caching facilities would tend to overlap or smear those of previous occupations. The residential pattern of seasonal occupations would not be expected to produce discrete clusters of facilities, as is the case at Lasley Vore. I therefore consider it more likely that certain parts of the site were favored for the preparation or consumption of speci¤c kinds of animals. From the maps we can make the following associations: cluster 2 with ¤sh; C4 with bison and bird; C5 with bison and small mammals; C7 with bison, ¤sh, and deer; and C8 with bird and deer. From the chi-square evaluations we learn that C4 contains fewer faunal remains than expected, whereas clusters 7 and 8 contain more. Multiple Analysis of Variance Despite the usefulness of the chi-square tests, we have noted the large sample size problem—that is, the propensity, when sample sizes become very large, to ¤nd statistically signi¤cant differences even with very small percentage differences between samples. To provide additional information and to obtain a more realistic impression of the signi¤cance levels of the differences, a series of multiple analysis of variance (MANOVA) tests were run (see ap-
Fig. 7.9. Distribution of combined faunal remains.
Fig. 7.10. Distribution of bison bones.
Fig. 7.11. Distribution of deer bones.
Fig. 7.12. Distribution of bird bones.
Fig. 7.13. Distribution of ¤sh bones.
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pendix 9) using the same suites of variables employed in the chi-square evaluations. All of the MANOVA tests register relatively low F-scores and signi¤cance levels above .05, indicating that the differences among clusters are not as pronounced as had been depicted by chi-square. This reinforces the impression that most of the material classes occurred in varying amounts throughout the settlement and were not limited exclusively to speci¤c areas. This is not to say that differences do not exist, but simply that they are not as spatially distinct as portrayed by the chi-square tests. Summary Distribution maps and the chi-square and multiple analysis of variance evaluations suggest that the following relationships obtain for the ¤ve principal feature clusters. Cluster 2 contained a huge concentration of shells, contributed primarily by the feature 2 shell cache, as well as one of the largest concentrations of ¤sh bones on the site. Very few potsherds, beads, or metal items were recovered from this area. Cluster 4 dominates many material categories because it yielded such a cornucopia of features and artifacts, so interpretations must emphasize the relative occurrence of these items rather than sheer numbers. It appears that C4 was a repository for pottery, a tendency that shows up best in pottery weight but is also evident in abundance of sherds. European trade beads and metals were also concentrated there and, with a minor exception in C5, C4 was the only place on the site where daub was found. The cluster had its share of lithic tools and debris, showing particularly large occurrences of bifaces, scrapers, and abraders. Although most of the bone tools were recovered from this cluster, it was not particularly dominant in animal bone and was de¤cient in deer and ¤sh. Most of the fauna in C4 pertained to bison and bird and, to a lesser extent, reptile and small mammals. It was almost totally devoid of shell. Cluster 5 contained more than its share of stone artifacts, particularly cortication ®akes and typed tools, and retouched pieces and abraders were found here in greater frequencies than in most other areas. A secondary concentration of European trade goods occurred here, though it does not amount to many pieces. On the other hand, the area was de¤cient in ceramic artifacts, though it does exhibit a relative abundance of incised pottery. Faunal remains were mostly bison and small mammal, fewer deer, bird and reptile, and a total lack of ¤sh and shell. Few beads, no metal items, and no shell were recovered from cluster 7. The area also yielded very little pottery, especially by weight, though, like C5, it contained a relative abundance of incised potsherds. By contrast, C7 contained a large amount of animal bone, including ¤sh, bison, deer, small mammal, and reptile (but no bird). It also possessed its share of lithic remains, particularly cortication ®akes. Of the tools, quite a few projectile points and scrapers were recovered from this location.
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Like C7, cluster 8 yielded a moderate-to-large amount of animal bone. Deer was recovered from most of these features, as well as relatively large amounts of bird and reptile and small amounts of all other categories. Ceramic items, noncortex ®akes, and lithic tools were found in relative abundance. Among the latter were relatively large quantities of manos and retouched pieces. The area produced a few beads and metal objects but no shell. THE MEA NING OF CLUSTER S: ACTI V IT Y AR EAS
Use-Wear Analysis The association of an artifact type with a feature cluster is evidence that that kind of artifact was present on the site and that the feature in which it was found was its last resting place. Although the association does not automatically assert that a particular item was used at that location, I argue that there is a good likelihood that the object was employed in that general area immediately before discard, otherwise it probably would not have been swept or thrown into that particular feature. Thus an abundance of bird bones recovered from a speci¤c feature cluster indicates that birds were probably consumed at that location; and large quantities of pottery or stone tools from a spot suggest that these items were employed there immediately before discard. We can therefore speak of a bird, pottery, or tool use locus in that area. When we interpret the distribution of individual artifacts in this manner, however, we can seldom be certain of the speci¤c activities conducted with those artifacts. For instance, arguing the consumption of bird meat from the evidence of bird bones is a likely scenario, but it remains a supposition, usually with no further evidence than the presence of the bones. Arguments based on the presence of pottery and stone tools are similarly subjective if no further evidence on the objects themselves is brought to bear on the situation. In the case of lithic artifacts, morphological analyses do not provide a very accurate assessment of the uses to which any individual tool was put; in other words, form does not necessarily equal function (Odell 1981b; Wylie 1975). As argued previously, use-wear analysis has been developed to inform on the speci¤c tasks in which individual implements were engaged, and it has proved to be a useful complement to other lithic studies. Of course, this type of analysis is capable of assessing only lower-order functionality (that is, determining a wood cutting knife does not tell you that a ritual mask was being prepared), but it does constitute a substantial improvement over other modes of assessing function.
Results of Lithic Analysis The analysis of the Lasley Vore lithic assemblage is reported in appendix 5. It describes the full collection, as well as in-depth studies of clusters 2, 4,
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5, 7, and 8—the same ones Shingleton employed in his analysis of pottery clays. Typological and technological analyses were conducted on the entire type collection and samples of the debris, whereas use-wear was assessed only for the ¤ve-cluster data set. Goals of the analysis were to ascertain the nature of the site as a whole, then to characterize the feature clusters. The previously discussed global analysis of the Lasley Vore assemblage has documented a relatively wide assortment of formal and functional types. The occupants engaged in hunting, tool and weapons maintenance, the construction of facilities, animal butchering, food preparation, and the grinding of foodstuffs, most likely maize; and they did so with a full inventory of tool types. This ¤nding indicates that, whatever else the site represents, it constituted a habitation for at least part of the year. Hide Scraping Hide scraping was the paramount activity at all but one of the tested clusters at the site, conducted at a level that suggests not only internal consumption but also external trade. But was this development unique? That is, were the occupants of the Lasley Vore settlement engaged in hide scraping activities to a greater extent than their contemporaries elsewhere in the region? The frequency of scraping activities at Lasley Vore is dif¤cult to compare with other archaeological sites because it is based on a detailed use-wear analysis to which most other lithic assemblages, particularly of this period, have not been subjected. However, it appears that morphological scrapers from the site were used, for the most part, as scraping tools—especially hide scraping, though other substances were also scraped with them. If morphological scrapers from other sites also served basically a scraping function, then one could use this formal tool type as a surrogate for scraping activities on these other sites. Let us make this (possibly erroneous) assumption and compare Lasley Vore scraping activities with scrapers from other late prehistoric assemblages. We must also identify types other than scrapers in these assemblages in order to calculate the relative frequency of scraping. Comparisons of this type are always frustrating—not only because they mix functional with morphological criteria, but also because the morphological types and systems employed in disparate regions of the country are often drastically different from one another. De¤nitional incongruities between analyses can be so pronounced that it is dif¤cult to know which lithic type in one report equates to a speci¤c type in another report. This problem is compounded by the lack of analytical attention that American archaeologists have historically given the lithic database. Recognizing that only a very general impression can be gained from any comparison, I have gathered data from several late prehistoric sites from Texas, Arkansas, Louisiana, and Kansas. In doing this it became apparent that several lithic types, such as beveled and unbeveled knives and axes, used by earlier researchers such as Waldo Wedel, were almost impossible to reconcile with technologically based systems employed more recently on sites
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such as Deshazo in Texas.1 When the term scraper was not employed in an analysis, it could often be roughly equated with a category such as “unifacial tool.” Other types, however, were often even more dif¤cult to reconcile, and the only entities I could distinguish consistently were scrapers, projectile points, and drills or perforators. Results of these comparisons suggest considerable diversity and often depend on the type of analysis employed. To the south of Lasley Vore, for instance, the protohistoric Noble Lake site in Arkansas and the Caddo farmsteads of McLelland and Joe Clark in northwestern Louisiana produced more than twice as many projectile points as scrapers (Noble Lake: House 1995; McLelland and Joe Clark: Kelley 1997). This pattern appeared even more pronounced in the morphological types of the George C. Davis and Deshazo Caddo occupations of northeast Texas. But Girard also conducted a provisional use-wear analysis of the Deshazo assemblage in which almost twothirds of the sample was assessed to have been scrapers or scraper/knives (George C. Davis: Baskin 1981; Deshazo: Girard 1995). From this study one cannot derive a speci¤c frequency of scraping wear, but it is apparent that the amount of scraping conducted on the settlement was substantially greater than the formal tool types would suggest. After contact with Europeans, formal scraping tools proliferated in the Southeast, causing Charles Cobb to comment, “The upsurge in the use of snub-nosed scrapers in southeastern North America appears to have been closely tied to the development of the fur trade (especially deer) with Europeans” (Cobb 2000:89).2 The situation to the north is also interesting, because settlements in central and south-central Kansas were probably ancestral to the Wichita habitations in Oklahoma. No strictly functional studies have been conducted with the Kansas lithic assemblages, but a comparison of older with more recent analyses, sometimes of the same sites, shows some interesting anomalies. For example, Wedel’s landmark study of Kansas prehistory documented scrapers as the most frequent type in central Kansas. When describing end scrapers from the Tobias site, he asserted, “Upward of 250 of these ubiquitous little objects were found; they came to light wherever we dug on the site” (Wedel 1959:273). The same could be said of excavated lithic assemblages from the Thompson site near Tobias and several Lower Walnut focus sites of south-central Kansas. The only exception to this statement was the Malone assemblage, which yielded more projectile points than end scrapers, though the combined end and side scrapers were more frequent than the projectiles. However, the lithic types that Wedel employed may have been de¤ned differently from types used today. For instance, Hawley and Haury’s recent investigation of the Larcom-Haggard site in Cowley County recovered fewer scrapers than projectile points, whereas Wedel’s earlier investigation of the same site had yielded more scrapers than projectiles. Radio Lane, another recently excavated protohistoric settlement in Cowley County, produced an even greater dearth of scrapers.3
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From these studies it can be concluded that scrapers were an important component of the lithic tool kit in late prehistoric times and that, in some regions, this trend appears to predate the contact period. The frequency with which the activity of scraping was performed, however, was different from one region to another, depending on the kind of analysis conducted and the type de¤nitions employed. It is entirely possible that settlements ancestral to Lasley Vore, such as those in Kansas, were also engaged in scraping activities at a level that exceeded the amount needed for internal consumption. In these cases, trade in hides with Pueblo peoples may have preceded a similar kind of trade with Europeans. Discriminating Feature Clusters Hide scraping constituted a nearly ubiquitous activity at Lasley Vore, evidence for it being present in every tested feature cluster but one. The subsequent task of the lithic study was to characterize the principal feature clusters for the purpose of de¤ning internal site structure and comparing the various areas with one another. Stylistic and technological studies of the tools have shown that no distinctions among clusters could be drawn on the basis of these kinds of attributes. Tool users throughout the settlement made their implements in similar ways and did not invest their tools with markers of individual or corporate identity. Use-wear analysis of the ¤ve principal feature clusters yielded a spectrum of activities. Hide scraping is dominant in all clusters except C2, and serves as an undercurrent to other tasks, but speci¤c activity pro¤les could be discerned for each of the feature clusters. These individualized tool motion/ worked material combinations are manifested in general activity sets of hide scraping, tool maintenance, percussive (for example, chopping, wedging), light industry (for example, wood cutting), weapon repair, and heavy grinding. The end result is an impression of the general nature of activities performed by stone tools in each of the ¤ve principal feature clusters (see Figure 7.14). Investigation of tool function allows us to make the following generalizations about site structure. The heart of the settlement is in clusters 4 and 8, which are functionally similar to one another. Besides the ubiquitous hide scraping, both areas emphasized percussive activities, presumably for the maintenance of structures and facilities, and mano grinding, probably for food preparation. These clusters were centrally located on the settlement and constituted the principal domestic areas. Occupants of cluster 7 de-emphasized domestic operations and tool and facility maintenance in favor of a light industry, a combination of tasks that was popular throughout the settlement. Light industry emphasizes cutting and shaving, particularly on substances less resistant than bone or antler—for example, wood, cane, hides. Cluster 7 was also a locus of weapons repair, having yielded a large quantity of projectile points that presumably had been brought back to this area for refurbishing. Cluster 5 is similar to C7 in pur-
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Fig. 7.14. Generalized interpretation of the ¤ve principal feature clusters based on the use-wear-generated activity spectra.
suing light industry, although it is not very distinctive on most of the measures used to distinguish the clusters. Much of its functional pro¤le concerns contact with substances of moderate hardness, hence it appears to have been a woodworking area. Finally, the northern area of cluster 2 appears quite different from the rest, just as it did in Shingleton’s analysis of pottery clays. In contrast to other clusters, C2 exhibited little hide scraping, nor were occupants of the area particularly concerned with domestic activities such as those conducted in C4 and C8. Instead, inhabitants of this area were engaged in tool maintenance, as seen in the use of graving tools and drills primarily on hard materials such as bone and antler. In addition, this was a workshop for the repair of weaponry, evidenced by the large number of projectiles with impact damage found there. Muntz’s analysis of small-sized lithic debris (see appendix 11) has added further information. Using models derived from other experimental studies, she has discerned statistically signi¤cant differences between clusters in the occurrence of complete ®akes and shatter. These differences suggest that clusters 2 and 7 were places where tools were retouched but not much core reduction was practiced, whereas cluster 8 showed the opposite tendencies—
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that is, lots of core reduction and not much tool retouch. Clusters 4 and 5 were not signi¤cantly different from the other aggregations on these parameters, but they were more like C8 than C2 and C7, showing more shatter than complete ®akes. We have considered most of the clues from the Lasley Vore site that allow us to postulate what kind of habitation it was and in which activities its occupants were principally engaged. It is now time to evaluate the evidence and place the settlement in historical perspective. ACTI V ITIES AT THE SET TLEMENT The information we have compiled from the suite of analyses reported here for the ¤ve largest feature clusters is encapsulated in the schematic representation illustrated in Figure 7.15. Let us try to make some sense of the tendencies that have been observed.
Heart of the Settlement The principal domestic portion of the site was the central area of clusters 4 and 8; indeed, these two clusters contained almost half of all features excavated. The lithic use-wear analysis documented a preponderance of tools used for food preparation, as in animal butchering and the grinding of vegetal foodstuffs, for which several manos were recovered in both locales. In addition, percussive activities such as chopping and wedging, necessary for the maintenance of dwellings and other facilities, were noted for both areas. Except for the plentiful bifaces in C4 (which would have made suitable chopping tools), domestic activities do not translate easily into speci¤c tool types and were probably spread throughout a number of typological groups. A concentration of daub—one of the only positive indicators that houses existed on the site—was located in C4. This cluster also contained by far the most pottery (even in relation to its large quantity of features), another good indication of domestic activities. No daub was recognized from cluster 8, but this area did contain a relative abundance of potsherds. In addition to obvious evidence for domesticity, and possibly supplementing it, were the concentrations of implements associated with cluster 4, which include intentionally fashioned stone and bone tools in general and abraders in particular, as well as retouched pieces in C8. Tool retouching was not practiced here as much as the initial reduction of ®akes from cores, perhaps another indication of a domestic area. Hide scraping was practiced a lot in both areas, C4 also exhibiting a large number of formal typed scrapers. The preferred large mammal in the diet of people living around C4 was bison, whereas in C8 it was deer, but both groups supplemented their diet with bird meat. Finally, while European trade goods were discovered in several feature clusters, they were concentrated particularly in C4, perhaps because this was where most of the action occurred.
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Fig. 7.15. Schematic representation of feature characteristics of the ¤ve largest feature clusters.
Peripheral Areas The other areas of the settlement I have termed peripheral. This is primarily shorthand for referring to them, rather than an assessment of their worth or the nature of their contribution. On the other hand, differences in speci¤c elements in the pottery clays associated with clusters 2, 5, and 7 suggest that the people who inhabited these areas may indeed have been peripheral in the sense that they originally came from somewhere else. Besides the feature clusters, peripheral zones contained most of the sub– plow zone artifact concentrations that we called “areas.” These were probably originally the “mounds” that Mr. Kays frequented as a boy. If so, they most likely constituted trash mounds, or accumulations of refuse, as we know existed on other Wichita settlements. Studies of such accumulations indicate
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an association with year-round habitation—more evidence for relative occupational permanence (Tani 1995: 247–248). The lithic use-wear analysis assessed cluster 5 as a locus of hide scraping and woodworking, although most of its attributes did not indicate a strong characteristic pro¤le. Most of the woodworking, as well as other activities, was performed with cortication ®akes and retouched pieces. Lithic tools in general, and abraders in particular, were abundant in this area, as was the case with cluster 4. Also connecting C5 with C4 was the only other piece of daub recognized from these ¤ve clusters, suggesting that a structure may have existed here. The people who occupied this area appear to have preferred the meat of small mammals and bison to other alternatives. Bison was also on the table at cluster 7, supplemented by ¤sh and deer. The lithic analysis distinguished this as an area of hide scraping and of light industry, suggesting nonpercussive (primarily cutting and shaving) tasks on softer materials, though without the speci¤c emphasis on substances of medium resistance such as wood. Much of the hide scraping was conducted with formal scrapers, while many of the light industry tasks were performed with cortication ®akes. Cluster 7 was also a locus of weapons repair, witnessed by its lithic artifacts containing impact damage as well as its formal projectile points. The emphases on weapons repair and light industry probably necessitated frequent sharpening of tools, as this appears to have been the primary lithic reduction activity performed here. The last of the peripheral areas tested was cluster 2. This was the only cluster in which a relatively large portion of its stone tool assemblage was not devoted to the activity of hide scraping. Few ceramic artifacts were found here, but the area contained the largest repository on the settlement of mussel shells, which may have been employed for pottery temper. Occupants of this area preferred ¤sh, reptiles, and small mammals to the larger fare consumed at other parts of the village. Like C7, a preponderance of impact damage from the utilization of projectiles suggests that spent weapons were brought back to cluster 2 for repair; and also like C7, tool sharpening was the dominant reduction activity. Cluster 2 is unique in its emphasis on tool maintenance, an activity similar to weapons repair. And of the ¤ve clusters tested for the composition of pottery clays, C2 was distinctive on two elements and was most readily separable from the rest on the basis of cluster analysis. In addition, the ceramic vessels found here possessed thicker body walls than those in other areas. Most of the evidence thus suggests that the people who inhabited cluster 2 were culturally or ethnically different from the occupants of the rest of the site. This concludes the presentation of archaeological evidence from the Lasley Vore settlement. Let us now return to the time of occupation in order to place these disparate facts into perspective.
8 Hypothesizing the Eighteenth Century
In this study I have not claimed that the Lasley Vore site was the Tawakoni village that Jean-Baptiste Bénard, Sieur de la Harpe, with his men and train of pack animals, visited during the autumn of 1719. It is, however, the strongest candidate for this village that we currently possess. Whether or not Lasley Vore was this speci¤c settlement, people were living there at about the time La Harpe came through this region, and they were the recipients of trade goods either that La Harpe brought with him or that were identical to those he would have brought with him. There is no way to distinguish whether these goods came to the settlement through direct contact with La Harpe, from distant traders such as the Chickasaw, who came from the east while La Harpe was visiting the Tawakoni, or by down-the-line trade. On the other hand, the substantial quantity of European trade goods on the settlement does not suggest the activities of a few itinerant traders like the Chickasaw, but a full-scale expedition, and the only one of these that we know of during this period was La Harpe’s. As I mentioned in the beginning, without actually locating the wooden post that La Harpe had his lieutenant, Du R ivage, plant in the middle of the village, it is unlikely that one would ever be able to distinguish this settlement from other candidates. So for a moment let us suspend not our disbelief, but our insistence on literal truth, and pretend that Lasley Vore was that Tawakoni village. What would La Harpe have seen when he arrived? By answering this question, we may be able to understand the sorts of things a foreign traveler would have encountered in most of these protohistoric villages in the southern Plains. We will proceed as though La Harpe had ended up at the Lasley Vore site, and we will use the knowledge gained through our excavation to interpret his peregrinations. The speci¤c events and tribal af¤liations of the participants are fanciful, but the situation is not. L A HAR PE AR R I V ES A MONG THE TAWA KONI The 3rd, we continued to advance in the prairies to a woods near a stream, where the high chief of the Touacara nation, accompanied by
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six other chiefs of the nations, awaited me, having had news of my arrival through some Naouydiches who had gone ahead; they were mounted upon very beautiful horses saddled and bridled according to the Spanish mode. . . . then I mounted on a ¤ne horse, which they had brought to me and we marched in company to their villages. The country through which we passed was level. At a musket shot from their habitation we crossed a beautiful stream, surrounded by a clear forest, above which are the villages situated upon hillocks, along the southwest branch of the Alcansas [Arkansas] River. These villages make only one village, the houses adjoining one another, running from east to west a league through the most beautiful location that one might possibly see. (Smith 1958–1959:525–526) The ¤rst thing La Harpe would have noticed is that the Indians he encountered were extensively tattooed, earning them the name Pani Piqué among the French. One ethnohistorian stated, “Many North American Indians tattooed themselves, but the Wichitas seem to have outdistanced most other tribes in this respect.” Even their name for themselves, the RaccoonEyed People, referred to this characteristic.1 La Harpe and his men were immediately escorted to the main portion of the settlement, which, at Lasley Vore, was the area around clusters 4 and 8. Here, at the principal Tawakoni locale, the Indians provided a dwelling for him. La Harpe wrote in his diary: When my packs were in the hut, I made my present to the Touacara chief; it consisted of some muskets, powder and balls, hatchets, knives, and some ells of cloth. Although he was surprised to see all of the merchandise, nevertheless, he showed no emotion, maintaining his air of gravity, although he was only about twenty-¤ve years of age. In order to show me his recognition, he gave to me a crown of eagle feathers, decorated with small birds of all colors, with two Calumet feathers, one for war and the other for peace, the most respectable present that these warriors may give. (Smith 1958–1959:528) At this point in his visit, La Harpe probably did not know very much about his hosts. However, he might have ascertained that the individual conical-shaped huts occupied by the Tawakoni were nuclear or extended family units.2 It was in one of these, perhaps freshly vacated for the visitors, that he was housed while at the settlement. The next day was a busy one for La Harpe and his men, as the Tawakoni presented them with a Calumet ceremony that lasted throughout the night and into the following afternoon. La Harpe retired to his hut at about 2:00 in the morning, leaving Du R ivage to revel in his place (Smith 1958– 1959:529).
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The following day La Harpe met with chiefs of the tribes represented at the village, but before their afternoon meeting he had a chance to look around the main Tawakoni area of the settlement. Several conical grass dwellings existed here, but most of the activities were taking place outside. Several women were grinding corn, though others were mending hide clothing with bone awls, which they sharpened on grooved sandstone abraders. Several of the men were repairing a section of one of the houses with chipped stone axes in wooden handles, while another man was knapping ®akes from a core for their eventual use as tools. Beside one structure he noticed a pile of bison scapula hoes brought in from the ¤elds for repair. Figure 8.1 illustrates the type of scene that La Harpe might have witnessed. Late that morning one of the women began to prepare a lunch that she would ultimately bring to the Frenchmen.3 When La Harpe ¤rst noticed her, she was butchering a turkey with a modi¤ed stone ®ake, an event that obviously delighted her two-year-old, blood-spattered son. This she combined with venison and corn in a stew that was boiled in a heavy cooking pot on a ¤replace outside the house. It was served to the Frenchmen with cornbread ground that morning with a mano on a large sandstone metate. Following lunch and his meeting with the chiefs, La Harpe retired early to his bed of bison hides to catch up on sleep lost to the previous evening’s Calumet ceremony.4 THE SOUTHER N PART OF THE SET TLEMENT The next day La Harpe arose early and sauntered down to the southern part of the village (clusters 5 and 7). A few Indian women were scraping bison hides with bone ®eshers and stone scraping tools—a task that, during the previous couple of days, he had noticed also being performed in the central portion of the village. He attributed this activity to a need to gear up for the winter nomadic bison hunt, which the village elders had told him would begin in October and last until March.5 Around another group of houses was a group of men who were also preparing for the winter bison hunt, as well as for smaller local forays before that hunt began. Most of them were fashioning arrows out of wood and cane, using unretouched or lightly retouched stone ®akes for this task. Broken arrow shafts and complete arrows with damaged arrowheads were lying all over the place waiting for repair. It was apparent from the large quantity of chipped stone material, much of which retained its cortex, that many of the stone tools employed in shaving and smoothing the shafts, cutting the bindings, and so forth were manufactured right on the spot. Most of this activity, however, involved modifying ®akes already produced somewhere else, rather than knocking off the ®akes at this location. La Harpe wandered a little farther west to another cluster of huts, where he saw a similar group of men repairing bows and fashioning bowls of wood. In fact, most of the activities in this area appeared to involve wood in some
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Fig. 8.1. A typical scene La Harpe might have witnessed at a Tawakoni village in 1719.
way. It struck La Harpe that the tasks being conducted in the two hut clusters he was visiting this morning were more specialized than those practiced in the central part of the village where he was staying, though the two parts of the settlement appeared to be similar in all other respects.6 Having visited the southern portion of the village all morning and feeling a little hungry, La Harpe was preparing to return to his hut to partake of the vast quantities of food that the Tawakoni women kept insisting he consume, but he was beckoned to join a group of people gathered in a cleared area behind the huts. He found out through a series of sounds and sign language that these were not Tawakoni but visiting Ascani who had come from some distance to the north to join in the festivities. They had heard of the arrival of some mysterious strangers from afar. La Harpe was told that the Ascani were culturally akin to the Tawakoni but made slightly different pottery, using more and larger temper particles to mix with the clay. They liked to camp next to their friends, the Ousitas, who at this time also lived north of the Tawakoni.7 The Ousitas made thicker pots
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than anybody else, but otherwise they were culturally similar to the other groups. A few Ascani had been cooking in this area for the last two days, and the odor was becoming irresistible. They loved bison roasts and had brought great slabs of meat already separated from the bone to add to the local cuisine. One of them had found a large pit that had been used for storing beans. After cleaning out the few remaining beans, he made a ¤re in the pit and threw in huge chunks of bison haunch, which he sprinkled with water and covered with boughs, and tended until the meat was tender.8 By the time La Harpe arrived, the meat was ready and the Indians invited him to join in their repast. After a most pleasant lunch, La Harpe became curious about these pits that appeared to serve for both cooking and storage. When he spotted a Tawakoni girl with a basket full of corn, he followed her. The maiden was a little startled at this behavior, but upon judging that the foreigner’s intentions appeared about as honorable as could be expected for a Frenchman, she explained in readily interpretable sign language that she was simply concealing their surplus for the time when, in another month or so, the entire camp would leave en masse on the winter bison hunt. She inferred that in the past marauding invaders had simply helped themselves to the fruits of Tawakoni labors. This situation did not greatly please the returning bison hunters, who were looking forward to some vegetal supplement to the largely carnivorous diet they had been subjected to for the past several months. After the girl poured in her corn, she replaced the ®at stone lid over the hole and returned to her hut in the central part of the camp.9 La Harpe also returned to his hut, where his men were entertaining the Indians by singing Voyageur songs.10 L AST DAYS IN THE V ILL AGE A ND R ETUR N TO FR A NCE
The Perimeter After a couple of days La Harpe decided to visit parts of the settlement with which he was unfamiliar. He asked his Nasoni guide to abandon his amorous activities long enough to accompany him for the morning to act as translator, to which the Caddo reluctantly agreed. When La Harpe was last in the southern area he had noticed two low mounds southeast (South Area 1) and southwest (West Area 1) of the Ascani bison cooking pit, so he decided to walk over there and investigate. What he found were simply trash heaps full of broken pottery, worn-out stone tools, and rotting hunks of meat. So this is where the Indians got rid of their junk.11 These were, indeed, optimal places for dumping refuse, being at some remove from most of the people’s activities. The small trash heap he had noticed between the Tawakoni and the Ascani/Ousitas areas (South Area 2) was convenient, all right, but it sort of precluded the use of that area for anything else.12 La Harpe knew that occasionally Native American settle-
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ments were palisaded and that in such cases trash might be dumped along the palisade line, but these Indians apparently had little fear of enemy attack while they occupied the village, because it was not forti¤ed.13 He also looked for any indication of a cemetery, since he knew that some tribes buried their dead along the periphery of their encampment, but he failed to ¤nd evidence of human burial.14
Northern Parts One is not well advised to tarry in the immediate vicinity of a recently used garbage dump, and La Harpe’s keen sensibilities soon directed him away from this mundane slice of human reality and toward the northern part of the village. Here he encountered a small settlement of Taovaya (cluster 2), who had also come to this village from some distance to the north.15 They made pottery that was slightly different from that of the other groups present in the village, though it was dif¤cult to tell the difference on the basis of decorative or technical attributes. They mentioned that although they saw themselves as distinct from the Tawakoni, Ousitas, and Ascani, they nevertheless shared the values of the others and chose to camp by them. In contrast, they pointed out that the Kichai had set up camp 300 meters or so northwest of the rest of the village to maintain their distinctive identity.16 This, of course, was no news to La Harpe and his interpreter, for the two Kichai that had accompanied them had been staying in that camp during their entire visit. La Harpe noticed immediately that the hide scraping activities that prevailed elsewhere in the village were here nowhere to be seen. He was told that the other groups were preparing hides not only for the winter hunt but also for trade. The Taovayas had already prepared enough hides for the hunt and preferred to trade in slaves.17 “Oh,” said La Harpe, and began to interest himself in the food being prepared. “What’s for lunch?” he asked. “Why, ¤sh, of course,” was the reply.18 “Wish to join us?” Being from Brittany, La Harpe seldom turned down an offer of a ¤sh meal, though he hardly expected bouillabaisse. So he stayed for a while and had a closer look around. A Tawakoni woman carrying mussel shells squatted down nearby and began digging a small pit. When asked what she was doing, she replied that the Tawakoni made their own pottery, but usually during the summer and not within the village. She had gathered these shells for use as tempering material to keep the pottery clay from cracking and was now hiding them so they would be there when she returned from the bison hunt. La Harpe offered to dig the pit for her, but she declined the offer, muttering something about “not men’s work.” La Harpe and his interpreter turned their attention to the lively repartee occurring outside a nearby conical building. It appeared that although the Taovayas may have already provisioned themselves with enough hides for the winter hunt, they were making other preparations for it. Here he saw both men and women manufacturing and repairing billets for ®int knapping,
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awls for clothing repair, bracelets for gifts when visiting friendly tribes, and handles for other tools. These they were fashioning from bone and antler, primarily using stout graving tools, knives, and drills. The Taovayas were joined by locals from the village who had similar tasks to accomplish, rendering this a rather specialized organic tool production and maintenance area. Outside another hut La Harpe noticed a group of men also gearing up for the bison hunt by rehafting their arrows onto cane shafts. By this time lunch was ready, and he joined the others near the ¤re. It was bouillabaisse.
The Return Voyage La Harpe and his men spent a few more days at the village, then departed. On their return they were beset with dif¤culty, as they kept losing Native guides. The two Kichai had returned to their own people before the French were ready to depart, and the Nasoni interpreter found it dif¤cult to leave his paramour, whom he had just met at the Tawakoni village. I have already recounted the unfortunate episode whereby the Naouydiche man and his wife agreed to guide the French back to their trading post but made the ultimate mistake of stopping on the way to smoke bison meat—whereby they themselves were smoked by some wandering Apaches. Even without Native guides the motley party somehow stumbled their way through the Ouachita Mountains and back to the Nassonite post, though they were exhausted and had lost every one of their horses in the effort (Smith 1958–1959:534–535). The rest of La Harpe’s story in the New World has been recounted in chapter 3. He was to return once again to North America but not to his Nassonite post, which had been taken over by the enterprising Louis Juchereau de St.-Denis. He attempted one more time to visit the Tawakoni village, this time by navigating the Arkansas, but a series of unfortunate circumstances forced him to turn back. With him vanished all French plans to establish a trading post among the Wichita. THE W ICHITA A ND THE L ASLEY VOR E SET TLEMENT
The Wichita in This Region The origin of the Wichita people has been hotly debated. Several archaeological cultural groups possessed stone tool and ceramic assemblages similar to one another and to those of known protohistoric Wichita sites and have been proposed as predecessors of the historic Wichita. The most believable claims, recounted in chapter 2, involve the Great Bend aspect sites of central and southern Kansas. But the Wichita moved around quite frequently, and believable claims have also been proposed for the Henrietta and Norteño foci of northern Texas, the Fort Coffee and Neosho foci of eastern Oklahoma, and the Washita R iver focus of south-central Oklahoma. It is not my purpose to add to this debate, nor does the Lasley Vore material clarify the situation very much. In fact, all of these groups might be ancestral to, or
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contemporary with, speci¤c Wichita-af¤liated subgroups, and some are undoubtedly ancestral to others. If any consensus exists, it would revolve around Waldo Wedel’s position, following years of ¤eldwork, that Coronado’s Quivira lay in Kansas and was inhabited by peoples who later coalesced into the Wichita (Vehik 1994:248; M. Wedel 1981:16; W. Wedel 1942, 1959, 1961:104–108, 1990). Wedel thought it likely that the Quivirans were descendants of folks we now know as the Henrietta focus of northern Texas or the Washita R iver phase people of southern Oklahoma.19 In fact, evidence exists that the Norteño focus Womack site on the Red R iver in northern Texas was the Kichai village La Harpe’s lieutenant, Du R ivage, visited immediately before they traveled north to the Tawakoni village.20 A strong case has also been made that the late prehistoric Fort Coffee phase near Spiro relates to a Kichai occupation (Rohrbaugh 1982b). Before La Harpe arrived, the Wichita had been protected from the corrupting in®uence of European weaponry by their good buddies on the east, the Missouri and Osage. This was exempli¤ed by the Missouris’ treatment of the French explorer Du Tisné. Arriving at their doorstep the same year La Harpe visited the Wichita, Du Tisné’s French party was forced to return to Illinois once before Du Tisné and an interpreter, carrying only three guns, were ¤nally allowed to pass through (Wedel 1973).21 That the Wichita had not been frequent participants in European trade before the arrival of this batch of trade goods is exempli¤ed by the heavy use several of the metal objects from Lasley Vore received. As recounted in chapter 6, the gun barrels were battered from use as hammers, the one ax head that retained its socket was utilized until it became counterproductive, and individual brass fragments from guns were employed for scraping, drilling, and probably other tasks yet unrecorded. The Wichita were not passive recipients of these new technologies, but participants in multifaceted relationships, the goal of which was survival (Wilson and Rogers 1993).
Expulsion Events in the lives of the Wichita subsequent to La Harpe’s visit are unclear, but most scholars feel that hostilities with their eastern neighbors and enticements from the French to enter their southern trading sphere induced the Wichita to migrate south to the Red R iver and Texas during the 1730s and 1740s (Chapman 1982:20; Harper 1953:268; John 1966:305; Johnson and Jelks 1958:407–408; Wedel 1982b:128). In support of this scenario, the expedition of André Fabry de la Bruyère up the Canadian R iver in 1742 encountered a band of Osages on the warpath against the Mento (Wichita), who apparently had moved south by that time (Blaine 1979:145). And in 1759 the Taovaya village that Commander Parrilla attempted to chastise for an earlier attack on the San Saba Mission found that village, now called Spanish Fort, on the Red R iver (Bell and Bastian 1967a; John 1966:349–352; Krieger
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1946; Steen 1953; Witte 1938). Subsequent movements of the tribe are recounted in chapter 1. These considerations place a chronological window on the Lasley Vore site. As argued throughout this book, the French trade goods at the settlement are all consistent with an early-eighteenth-century attribution and, as far as we know, the earliest European items in any quantity were brought by La Harpe in 1719. Since most of the Wichita subgroups had migrated south by about 1750, the Lasley Vore site must have been occupied during at least part of this thirty-year period. I argue further that at least part of this occupation was during the latter portion of this period. First, there is evidence of long-term use of tools. I am not aware of any experimental data on this issue, but it would probably take a long time to wear an ax head down as much as the socketed specimen in the Lasley Vore collection. This argument does not necessarily assume that the ax head had remained on this site throughout its use-life. Even if it was utilized somewhere else and brought to Lasley Vore, it would still probably not have been employed outside this general region, so its introduction would not have preceded 1719. That it received this degree of utilization somewhere and then ended up at Lasley Vore suggests that it had remained in the system for several years before being discarded. Second, there is evidence that the occupants left the settlement under duress. The metates in feature 62, for example, are very large and very fragmented (see ¤gures 5.7 and 5.8). Dropping an 80-pound stone by accident would not fracture it into ¤ve or more pieces, unless it was dropped onto concrete from a 10-story building. Somebody wanted that metate broken. Similarly for the masses of charred corn kernels found in features 28 and 69: this is not evidence for cooking, as nobody ¤nds charcoal very nourishing and only a huge culinary mistake would account for its accidental occurrence. No, somebody did not want others to eat this corn. Two scenarios would account for the broken metates and charred corn: (1) enemies raided a Wichita settlement while the occupants were away, probably chasing bison, and destroyed what they found; or (2) the Wichita themselves, just before they migrated southward, destroyed what they could not carry so their enemies would not be able to pro¤t from these items. CONCLUSION
Basic Information Excavation of the Lasley Vore archaeological site in 1988 has occasioned a reevaluation of the protohistoric period in eastern Oklahoma at the cusp of contact with European cultures. It is likely that the inhabitants of the site represent one or more of the subgroups that later coalesced into the Wichita tribe, and I have proceeded throughout this study under the assumption that Lasley Vore was a proto-Wichita settlement. Although no structures were recognized in the ¤eld, their previous exis-
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tence is indicated by the recovery of daub and by the patterned placement of pits and hearths around the site. The spatial extent of the habitation and its substantial quantity of features support the interpretation that this was a village. It was occupied throughout the year, as indicated by faunal seasonal indicators and the presence of probable trash mounds. The kinds of artifacts recovered—both Native American and European—are consistent with its temporal placement in the ¤rst half of the eighteenth century. That it was occupied during a temporally restricted period by only one cultural group is supported by the consistency and dating of the artifacts, the clustering of features, and the occurrence of only one instance of feature overlap. The inhabitants of this village had some contact with Europeans, as seen by the incontestable association of Native American pottery and stone tools with European trade goods in several of the hearths and pits. What we have here, in other words, is a single-occupation village inhabited year round by a group of Wichita-related Indians in contact with Europeans. The time frame for this contact, and probably for the village itself, was between 1719 and about 1750. The population inhabited the settlement during at least the latter part of this period, judging from the extensive amount of use-wear on some of the metal tools, and the people appear to have departed under duress, leaving badly smashed metates and charred corn kernels in their wake. The information recounted above may appear pretty mundane to the uninitiated, but in archaeological terms it is a bonanza. I cannot think of another archaeological site I have investigated that contained so much information at this degree of speci¤city. Sure, I wish we had found more evidence for houses, and I wish that we had been given more time to excavate the site so that we could have done a better job. But we are reasonably certain that houses existed, and more excavation time would have provided a larger sample, but it probably would not have altered our impressions of the settlement. So we carry on with what we have, and in this case it is quite a bit.
Detailed Studies The information cited above provides basic data on the kind of settlement that existed, who occupied it, and when. But we have learned much more than that from this investigation. For example, we have a good idea what kinds of tasks the inhabitants were engaged in. The settlement as a whole appears to have been a viable, self-suf¤cient community containing evidence for varied activities, including hunting, food preparation, and the maintenance of facilities, weapons, and tools. The existence of pottery indicates that the people were at least semisedentary. They employed some of their pots for cooking, some for storage, and some for serving food. Corn was the only domesticated foodstuff recovered, but it indicates an agricultural base. In addition, the occupants depended heavily on deer and bison for their overall meat intake while hunting a variety of animals. These they killed not
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only for meat but also for skins, for the settlement shows an emphasis on the preparation of animal hides. Other kinds of useful data gleaned from this study involve the spatial organization of features and artifacts. We are reasonably certain that our excavations were comprehensive—that is, that we excavated as much of this village as existed at this location. Thus we have what amounts to an entire village plan (without houses, of course), the only such plan that exists for this period in the entire region. We have gained an impression of the structure of such a settlement, a con¤guration that can be compared to future excavated sites, some of which may contain the architectural data that Lasley Vore lacked. Structure in the case of Lasley Vore involved 10 discrete feature aggregations, the spatial relationships of those aggregations, and the existence of at least three probable trash dumps located both on the periphery and between sets of feature clusters. Considerable effort was expended in trying to ascertain what these clusters represented. An atomic absorption spectrophotometry analysis of pottery clays indicated that the clays in some of the clusters could be distinguished from clays in other clusters on speci¤c chemical elements. Since clays are formed by local weathering processes, this result suggests that the clays came from disparate areas. In other words, much of the pottery was not made locally but was probably brought to the village by people who had not previously called that village their home. Detailed analyses of the stone tools provided a different, and complementary, impression of these clusters. They established that the central part of the site was the principal domestic area, while in the peripheral areas more specialized activities occurred. These activities included woodworking, light industry, the maintenance of bone and antler tools, and weapon repair. It appears, then, that more than one ethnic group was involved at the settlement and that different activities occurred at different locations.
Back to La Harpe La Harpe never intended that French relations with the Wichita in this region would end with his visit in 1719. In fact, he was willing to leave some of his men at the Tawakoni village until he learned that the entire population would be vacating in a month or so to go on the fall bison hunt. When La Harpe returned to North America, he avidly sought to revisit this Tawakoni village by boat up the Arkansas, but dif¤cult conditions forced him to abort the excursion at about Little Rock. This must have been a very disappointing decision for La Harpe to make, for he had envisioned a Wichita trading post as a possible cornerstone of French economic and diplomatic efforts in the entire Southern Plains supraregion. Because of the Wichitas’ eventual abandonment of the region and France’s subsequent troubles with Great Britain, the situation did not turn out very favorably for either people. It was almost a century before French entrepreneurs such as August and Pierre Chouteau and Joseph Bogy estab-
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lished trading posts in Oklahoma, but they were located east of the Plains and by then the Wichitas were long gone. So it was that La Harpe’s dream of extending French in®uence from the Caddo region northward through the eastern Plains proved to be one more casualty in the struggle for power over the North American continent. Does any of this shed light on the question of whether or not Lasley Vore was the Tawakoni village that La Harpe visited? The simple answer is “No,” but our studies do provide an exceptional glance at the kind of village that La Harpe would have visited on the eastern Plains during that period. Without having discovered the wooden post La Harpe had Du R ivage carve and plant in the middle of the village, we will have to be content with that.
Appendix 1 Floodplain Geomorphology John C. Dixon
INTRODUCTION The Arkansas R iver in the vicinity of Jenks and Bixby is a south ®owing stream. It ®ows in a broad valley that abuts against steep to moderately sloping valley side walls with a ®oodplain and associated terrace complex varying in width from 0.5 to 5 km. The stream has a wide sandy bed with numerous lateral and mid-channel bars. In the study area there are two meandering tributary streams: Polecat Creek, which lies south of Jenks, and Posey Creek just to the north of Bixby. This appendix discusses the ®oodplain geomorphology of the Arkansas R iver between Jenks and Bixby. The ®oodplain is examined in terms of its various depositional environments, in order to understand the hydrologic behavior of the river. This information is important for the interpretation of the Lasley Vore settlement because rivers are inherently dynamic and can change course rapidly. This point is illustrated by the changes in the Mississippi R iver system since the American Revolution, which has left pockets of land in one state that used to be in another state. La Harpe’s descriptions of the Tawakoni village he visited suggests that the settlement was relatively close to the river, as the Lasley Vore site currently is to the Arkansas R iver. However, if it can be shown that the river changed course drastically and was substantially farther away from the site 300 years ago than it is today, this information would render Lasley Vore an unlikely candidate to have been that Tawakoni village. No suitable locations for coring river sediments existed near the site itself, but a mile away an open piece of ®oodplain near the R iverside Power Plant provided an opportunity to investigate the dynamic properties of the river. Given the scale of river systems, this is close enough to the Lasley Vore site to be directly relevant to it. METHODS The ®oodplain geomorphology of the Arkansas R iver is analyzed using pro¤le descriptions of the principal soil series found in the study area, as well as from sediments collected in deep cores from the ®oodplain. The ®oodplain setting and the nature of the depositional environment of soil parent materials were, in part, determined from the textural characteristics of the soil pro¤les described in the Tulsa County Soil Survey (Cole et al. 1977). In addition, ®oodplain sediments were studied from two deep cores taken from the ®oodplain of the Arkansas R iver in the vicinity of the R iverside Power Plant, Jenks, Oklahoma, about a mile north of the Lasley Vore site (see Figure A1.1). The
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Fig. A1.1. The area around the Lasley Vore site showing locations of sediment cores drilled into the ®oodplain.
sediments were obtained by using a split-spoon auger mounted on the back of a truck. The auger was pounded into the sediments using an impact hammer mounted atop the drilling rig. Samples were taken every 60 cm to a depth of approximately 5 m. Upon recovery from the split-spoon sampler, the samples were described texturally in the ¤eld, then transferred to sample bags for subsequent detailed textural analysis in the sedimentology laboratory at the University of Arkansas. The sediments are described according to the textural classes of the United States Department of Agriculture (Soil Survey Staff 1975). One sediment core was obtained from the proximal margin of the ®oodplain (in proximity to the river), the second from the distal portion of the ®oodplain (distant from the river). These two locations were selected in order to determine possible shifts in the position of the Arkansas R iver throughout its depositional history. In the laboratory the sediments obtained from the cores were described using the standard soil description nomenclature of the U.S. Department of Agriculture (Soil Survey Staff 1975). Twenty sediment samples were analyzed texturally by the dry sieving method for sand and gravel fractions and by the pipette method for silt
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and clay size fractions (Day 1965). Gravel abundances are reported as percentages of the total sample. Sand is reported as a percent of the 0.002–2 mm fraction to eliminate the effects of pedogenesis as well as a percent of the <2 mm size fraction to assess the effects of pedogenesis. The 0.002–2mm fraction represents the texture of the original river sediments prior to subsequent modi¤cation by soil-forming processes and associated generation and transportation of clay size particles. In addition, soil and sediment color was determined using standard Munsell soil color designations. SEDIMENTS
Natural Levees Immediately adjacent to the active channel of the Arkansas R iver is a narrow, discontinuous natural levee. Much of the topographic expression of the levee has been obliterated as a result of agricultural activity, and it has been subsequently replaced with a man-made structure. The natural levee is characterized by sediments relatively coarser than those found elsewhere on the ®oodplain. These sediments result from the deposition of the coarser fraction of the suspended load when the river overtops its banks during ®ood stage. Natural levee sediments are predominantly ¤ne sands to loamy ¤ne sands in texture, containing thin units of loamy, very ¤ne sand. Limited pedogenic modi¤cation of the natural levee deposits has occurred, with the development of A/C soil horizons and some textural ¤ning in the A horizon. The natural levee deposits are characterized by the development of the Kiomatia soil series. This soil typically has an A horizon of loamy ¤ne sand extending to a depth of approximately 25 cm. This horizon is commonly dark brown (7.5YR 4/4) in color, with single grain structure and soft, very friable consistence. The horizon commonly displays a few thin strata of brown loam and very ¤ne sandy loam. The lower boundary of this horizon is clear smooth. Beneath the A horizon is the coarser parent material C horizon. The upper part of this horizon commonly consists of a ¤ne sandy loam extending from a depth of 25–40 cm. It is reddish brown (5YR 5/4) in color with massive structure and slightly hard, very friable consistence. It has a clear, smooth boundary with the deeper part of the C horizon, which extends from 40–155 cm. The deeper part of the C horizon is typically a ¤ne sand, commonly with ¤ne strata of reddish brown, ¤ne sandy loam, very ¤ne sandy loam, and loam. It is light brown (7.5YR 6/4) in color, with single grain structure and soft loose consistence (Cole et al. 1977).
Proximal Floodbasin On the distal side of the natural levee is the ®ood basin. This part of the ®oodplain is smooth to slightly undulating topographically and is occasionally covered with water. The sediments are still relatively coarse grained but display a discernable ¤ning compared to those of the natural levee. Typically, the sediments in this part of the ®oodplain are very ¤ne sandy loams. The sediments also contain a few thin strata of ¤ne sandy loam and very ¤ne sand. Limited pedogenic modi¤cation of the sediments has occurred, with the development of pro¤les with A/C horizon sequences. These deposits are intimately associated with the Severn soil series. The A horizon is typically a reddish brown (5YR 4/3) very ¤ne sandy loam with weak, ¤ne granular structure and soft, very friable consistence extending to a depth of approximately 20cm. This horizon has a gradual
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smooth boundary with the underlying C horizon. The C horizon extends from a depth of 20cm to 3m and can be subdivided into three units. From 20 to 71cm the C horizon is typically a reddish brown (5YR 4/4), very ¤ne sandy loam with weak, ¤ne granular structure and soft, very friable consistence. Within this horizon are a few thin strata of very ¤ne sand, ¤ne sandy loam, and loam. From 71 cm to 123 cm the C horizon is a yellowish red (5YR 4/6) very ¤ne sandy loam with weak, ¤ne granular structure and soft, very friable consistence. This middle horizon has a clear smooth boundary with the underlying horizon. The lowermost C horizon, extending from 123 cm to 152 cm, is typically a reddish (5YR 4/4) very ¤ne sandy loam with massive structure and slightly hard friable consistence. Within this horizon are a few strata of ¤ne sandy loam and very ¤ne sand (Cole et al. 1977). A deep core from this part of the ®oodplain was extracted to a depth of 480 cm adjacent to the R iverside Power Plant near Jenks, Oklahoma. The sediments in the core are predominantly sandy but display a number of distinct textural changes with depth. From the top of the core to a depth of 120 cm the sediment consists of a dark yellowish brown (10YR 3/4) silt loam, which is dominated by coarse silt (see Tables A1.1 and A1.2). Beneath the silt loam the sediments coarsen with depth. From 120 cm to 240 cm the sediments are dominated by a reddish yellow (7.5YR 6/6) ¤ne sand with subordinate amounts of medium sand. From 240 cm to 300 cm the sediments ¤ne slightly from sands to brown (7.5YR 5/4) sandy loams and are dominated by ¤ne sands with subordinate amounts of very ¤ne sand and only negligible amounts of the coarser sand fractions. Below this unit, from 300 cm to 360 cm, the sediments again coarsen to light yellow brown (10YR 6/4) sand and are dominated by ¤ne and very ¤ne sands with negligible amounts of the coarser sand fractions. From 360 cm to 480 cm the sediments in the <2 mm size fraction are yellowish brown (10YR 5/6) sands dominated by the ¤ne sand fraction. However, they contain substantially greater quantities of the coarser sand fractions than do any of the overlying sandy sediment units. In addition, the lowermost unit contains small quantities of gravel.
Distal Flood Basin The distal portion of the ®ood basin is characterized by sediments substantially ¤ner in texture than those of the proximal portions of the ®ood basin, re®ecting the slow settling of overbank suspended sediments in the distal portion of the ®oodplain. Two distinct distal ®oodplain deposits can be identi¤ed in the study area. The most areally extensive of these occur in the vicinity of Jenks and are associated with the Latanier soil series. Less extensive distal ®oodplain deposits, associated with the Wynona soil series, occur in the vicinity of Posey Creek. The Latanier soil series typically displays an A horizon that extends to a depth of approximately 30 cm. It is a dark reddish brown (5YR 3/2) clay with moderate ¤ne, subangular blocky structure and very hard, very ¤rm consistence. The A horizon has a clear smooth boundary with the underlying B horizon. The B horizon is divided into two clearly discernible units. The uppermost B horizon extends from approximately 30 cm to 53 cm in depth. It is a dark reddish brown (2.5YR 3/4) clay with moderate ¤ne and medium blocky structure and very hard, very ¤rm consistence. Ped faces commonly display evidence of clay skin development and there is evidence of a few ¤ne carbonate concretions. This upper B horizon has a gradual smooth boundary with the underlying B horizon. The deeper B horizon extends from 53 cm to 81 cm and is a dark reddish brown (5YR 3/3) clay. It has a moderate ¤ne blocky
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structure with very hard, very ¤rm consistence. Ped faces display evidence of clay skin development and there are a few ¤ne carbonate concretions. This horizon has an abrupt, wavy boundary with the underlying C horizon. The C horizon typically extends from a depth of 81 cm to 168 cm and can be subdivided into two distinct horizons. The upper horizon, which extends from 81 cm to 107 cm, is a dark reddish brown (5YR 3/3) silty clay loam with weak, ¤ne, subangular blocky structure and very hard, very ¤rm consistence. Within this upper C horizon are thin strata of ¤ne sandy loam and silty clay loam. Some organic staining exists on ped faces, and a few carbonate concretions are present. This horizon has a clear, smooth boundary with the underlying horizon. The lowermost C horizon, which extends from 107 cm to 168 cm, is a reddish brown ((5YR 5/4) ¤ne sandy loam with massive structure and soft, very friable consistence. Thin strata of very ¤ne sandy loam and clay loam are present in this horizon. A buried A horizon is commonly present within a depth of 40 cm in this soil (Cole et al. 1977:49).
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A sediment core was obtained to a depth of 480 cm from the distal portion of the ®oodplain in the vicinity of the R iverside Power Plant near Jenks. The coring site is in an area of Latanier soils. The uppermost 60 cm of the core consists of a dark brown (10YR 3/3) silt loam dominated by coarse silt with a subordinate amount of medium silt. This uppermost unit is also abundant in clay (see Tables A1.3 and A1.4). From 60 cm to 180 cm the sediment is a brown to dark brown (7.5YR 4/4) silt, dominated by the coarse silt fraction with minor amounts of medium and ¤ne silt. This deeper unit also contains substantially smaller quantities of clay. From 180 cm to 360 cm the sediment is a light brown (7.5YR 6/4) ¤ne sand with subordinate amounts of very ¤ne sand and negligible amounts of the coarser sand fractions. From 360 cm to 480 cm the sediment coarsens to a light yellowish brown (10YR 6/4) sand containing substantially greater amounts of the coarser sand fractions. In addition, the lowermost sand unit contains small amounts of gravel. The Wynona soil series dominates the distal ®oodplain deposits near Posey Creek. This soil typically displays an A horizon that extends to a depth of approximately
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60 cm and can be separated into two subdivisions. The uppermost horizon, which extends to a depth of 25 cm, is a very dark brown (10YR 2/2) silty clay loam with moderate ¤ne granular structure and hard, ¤rm consistence. It has a clear, smooth boundary with the lower A horizon. The lower A horizon extends from 25 cm to 58 cm and is a black (10YR 2/1) silty clay loam with moderate ¤ne granular structure and hard, ¤rm consistence. There are a few distinct brown mottles in the lower part. This horizon has a gradual smooth boundary with the underlying B horizon. The B horizon also displays two distinct subdivisions. The uppermost unit, which extends from 58 cm to 107 cm, is a very dark gray (10YR 3/1) silty clay loam with moderate ¤ne subangular blocky structure and hard, ¤rm consistence. The horizon displays common, ¤ne, distinct brown mottles due to gleying. The boundary is gradual smooth. The lowermost B horizon extends from 107 cm to 163 cm and is very dark gray (10YR 3/1) in color, with weak, ¤ne subangular blocky structure and hard, ¤rm consistence. This horizon is also gleyed, with many medium, distinct brown (7.5YR 4/4) mottles (Cole et al. 1977:54).
Terraces A low, poorly de¤ned terrace occurs at the back of the ®oodplain. In many locations the terrace has been dissected by small sloughs, and remnants of the terrace can be found separated from the more extensive contiguous landform. The surface of the terrace is smooth and nearly level. The terrace is developed in sediments that are very ¤ne sandy loam or silt loam in texture and contain thin strata of loamy ¤ne sand to silty clay loam. In detail, the terrace sediments consist of three distinct sedimentary units. The uppermost is a very ¤ne sandy loam, which is underlain by a silt loam. The deepest unit is another very ¤ne sandy loam. There do not appear to be any paleosols associated with any of these units. The terrace surface is intimately associated with the Choska soil series. This soil series, like many of the others along the Arkansas R iver, is characterized by relatively poor pedogenic development, displaying a simple A/C horizon sequence within the pro¤les. The A horizon of this soil typically extends to a depth of approximately 36 cm. It is dark reddish brown (5YR 3/3) in color, with moderate, very ¤ne, and ¤ne granular structure and slightly hard, very friable consistence. There is a clear, smooth boundary with the underlying C horizon, which consists of three distinct subdivisions. The uppermost extends from 36 cm to 64 cm and is a yellowish red (5YR 4/6), very ¤ne sandy loam with massive structure and slightly hard, very friable consistence. This horizon has a clear smooth boundary with the underlying horizon. The middle unit within the C horizon extends from 64 cm to 90 cm and is a dark reddish brown (5YR 3/3) silt loam with weak, ¤ne granular structure and slightly hard, very friable consistence. It has a clear, smooth boundary with the lowest unit of the C horizon. The lowest horizon extends from 90cm to 157 cm and consists of a yellowish red (5YR 4/6), very ¤ne sandy loam with massive structure and soft, very friable consistence. This horizon also contains a few thin strata of loamy ¤ne sand to silty clay loam (Cole et al. 1977:45).
Tributary Floodplains Cutting across the ®oodplain of the Arkansas R iver are a number of tributary streams. In the immediate study area between Jenks and Bixby on the south side of the Arkansas R iver the two tributary streams are Posey Creek and Polecat Creek. On the north side of the river the main tributaries are Joe Creek and Haikey Creek.
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The sediments and soil series associated with these channels display characteristics that differ markedly from the soils and sediments associated with the Arkansas R iver. The tributary ®oodplains are dominated by sediments substantially ¤ner grained than those associated with the Arkansas R iver ®oodplain. For the most part, the sediments along the tributary stream channels are silt loam in texture, compared to the very ¤ne sandy loams of the Arkansas R iver ®oodplain deposits. The silt loams contain thin strata of very ¤ne sandy loam to silt loam. The tributary stream ®oodplains are narrow and the streams are incised relatively deeply into their channels. Intimately associated with the tributary ®oodplains is the Radley soil series. This series consists of an A horizon that extends to a depth of 25 cm. The horizon is typically a dark brown (10YR 3/3) silt loam with moderate, ¤ne granular structure and slightly hard, friable consistence. The boundary with the underlying B horizon is gradual smooth. The B horizon extends from 25 cm to 46 cm and is a brown (10YR 4/3) silt loam with weak, ¤ne granular structure and hard, friable consistence. This horizon frequently has brownish, yellowish, and reddish mottles. The B horizon has a clear, smooth boundary with the underlying C horizon. The C horizon extends from 46 cm to 157 cm and can be subdivided into distinct subdivisions. The upper C horizon extends from 46 cm to 91 cm and is a brown (10YR 4/3) silt loam with a few faint yellowish brown mottles. It is massive in structure with soft, very friable consistence and has a clear, smooth boundary with the underlying C horizon. The deeper C horizon extends from 91 cm to 157 cm and is a brown (10YR 5/3) silt loam with common medium faint yellowish brown (10YR 5/6) and few common faint gray (10YR 5/1) mottles. The horizon is massive in structure and hard, friable in consistence. There are also a few thin strata of very ¤ne sandy loam to silt loam texture (Cole et al. 1977:53). PA LEOH Y DROLOGY
Floodplain The modern ®oodplain of the Arkansas R iver is dominated by overbank accretionary sedimentary deposits typical of a large sandbed stream. Marginal to the main channel the sediments are predominantly ¤ne sands to sandy loams interpreted to be natural levee deposits based on soil descriptions from Cole et al. (1977). Sediments from the deep core obtained from the proximal part of the ®ood basin of the Arkansas display a complex history of river channel migration (see Table A1.5). The lowermost unit of gravelly sands from 360 cm to 480 cm is interpreted to be representative of the sediments associated with the channel ®oor. The thick unit of predominantly medium to ¤ne sands from 120 cm to 360 cm is interpreted to be predominantly proximal, vertically accreted overbank sediments deposited on the channel sands and gravels as the river migrated toward its present position. The uppermost 120 cm of silt loam is interpreted to be proximal overbank deposits associated with overbank ®oodwaters since the river reached its present location. These proximal ®oodplain deposits display an upward ¤ning texture. The proximal ®oodplain sediments that occur between 120 cm and 360 cm re®ect a complex paleohydrology. At 300–360 cm the sediments are predominantly ¤ne sands with subordinate amounts of very ¤ne sands, a small amount of predominantly coarse silt, and a negligible amount of clay. Immediately above this unit, at 240–300 cm, the sediments suddenly ¤ne from a sand to a sandy loam, in which the quantities of both ¤ne and very ¤ne sand are substantially reduced and silt increases fourfold.
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In addition, there is a sevenfold increase in the abundance of clay. Examination of the ¤ne and very ¤ne sand in the 2 mm to 2 micron size analyses shows that these fractions are more abundant than in the <2 mm size fraction (see Table A1.2). This suggests that the ¤ner sand fractions have been weathered to silt size particles. This thin unit is therefore interpreted to be a buried soil B horizon, in which there has been weathering of the ¤ner sands and an accompanying accumulation of clay. Above this paleosol the sediments again coarsen, but to predominantly ¤ne sands with a subordinate proportion of medium sands and minor coarse sands. While this unit is interpreted as a proximal ®oodplain deposit, it is clearly representative of a coarser load than that carried by the river prior to the brief period of depositional stability indicated by the paleosol. Sediments obtained from the deep core in the distal part of the ®oodplain re®ect a ®uvial history in which the river has progressively migrated from a position adjacent to the bluffs of the river valley toward the position of the contemporary channel (see Table A1.6). The lowermost unit of gravelly sands is interpreted to represent the
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sediments of the channel ®oor. As the channel was abandoned, the channel ®oor sediments were overlain by predominantly ¤ne to very ¤ne sands interpreted to be proximal overbank ®ood deposits. With continued lateral migration of the river, the proximal ®oodplain deposits became covered with markedly ¤ner distal ®ood basin deposits. These distal deposits display a pronounced upward ¤ning in texture. The uppermost unit, which displays a substantial increase in clay compared to the two underlying distal ®oodplain units, may represent a backswamp unit.
Terraces Terrace deposits, like the ®oodplain deposits, record a complex history of Arkansas R iver migration. The uppermost sedimentary unit within the terrace deposits is a very ¤ne sandy loam. This unit, which is approximately 60 cm thick, is interpreted to be proximal, vertically accreted overbank deposits. Texturally, these resemble those of the proximal overbank deposits of the contemporary river channel. From a depth of approximately 60–90 cm is a silt loam deposit. This is interpreted to be a distal, vertically accreted overbank ®ood deposit associated with the temporary migration of the Arkansas R iver in a direction toward the present channel. The lowermost unit, extending from 90 cm to the base of the soil pro¤le, is a very ¤ne sandy loam with thin strata of loamy ¤ne sand, loam, and silt loam. This unit is interpreted from its textural characteristics to be a proximal, vertically accreted, overbank ®ood deposit. Again, it is texturally similar to the proximal overbank deposits associated with the present Arkansas R iver channel. The thin strata present in the depositional unit are interpreted to represent individual ®ood events of varying magnitude. DISCUSSION From the above interpretation of the sediments contained in the ®oodplain and terrace deposits of the Arkansas R iver valley, it is apparent that the Arkansas R iver has migrated away from the vicinity of the bluff line to its present position over the course of its history. This migration appears to have been complex rather than a simple continuous migration. As migration in an overall northerly direction took place, there appear to have been periods when at least temporary migration back toward the bluff line occurred. Such an interpretation is based on the alternating sequence of proximal-distal-proximal overbank deposits contained within the terraces. A similar complex history of overall migration of the river in a northerly direction is re®ected in the sediments of the contemporary ®oodplain. Like the terrace deposits, the ®oodplain deposits provide evidence of alternating distal and proximal ®oodplain deposition. The buried paleosol, commonly occurring at a depth of approximately 1 m in the distal ®oodplain deposits, suggests a period of relative ®oodplain stability. This buried soil occurs in sediments interpreted to have been associated with distal ®oodplain accretion. It has subsequently been covered with sediments interpreted to be backswamp deposits. This sequence of sediments and incorporated paleosol suggests that the paleosol separates periods of limited overbank deposition from a period of more recent renewed deposition. Such a sequence of depositional events may be indicative of a change from a relative dry climate to a relative wetter one. Such an interpretation is consistent with other research from Oklahoma on environmental change over
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the past 6,000 years (Hall 1988). The buried paleosol in the Latanier clay soil series may correlate with the Delaware Paleosol (Ferring 1986a, 1986b). The paleosol recognized at depth in the core from the proximal part of the ®oodplain may correlate with the Copan paleosol (Hall 1977), but without any radiocarbon dates this idea is only speculative. The general pattern of vertical distribution of sediments in the deep cores obtained from the ®oodplain of the Arkansas R iver near the R iverside Power Plant at Jenks is similar to that reported from other cores of Holocene alluvium in Oklahoma (Hall 1990). The summary of the late Holocene alluvial record presented by Hall (1990) from numerous studies in the southern Great Plains reveals a long period of rapid ®oodplain sedimentation prior to 2,000 b.p., when climate was substantially drier than today. This episode is re®ected in the cores from the present study by the coarser sediments toward the bottom of the core. Following the period of rapid sedimentation was a period of slower sedimentation between 1,000 and 2,000 b.p., during which time the Copan soil formed, under a moist or wet climate. This period may be represented in the proximal core of this study by the buried soil B horizon. Climate then began a trend toward aridity, and ®oodplain sedimentation again increased. This second period of rapid sedimentation is re®ected in the upper sandy units of the proximal core. As aridity reached its peak, ®oodplain deposition again decreased and the Delaware Creek paleosol formed. This period may be represented by the widespread, weakly developed paleosol in the upper meter of the Latanier clay in which the proximal core was drilled. As the climate has become wetter, ®oodplain deposition has again become more rapid. Con¤rmation of the correlation of the alluvial history revealed in the cores obtained from this study with that from other sites in the Osage Plains depends on extensive radiocarbon dating of the sediments, which was not possible in this preliminary study.
Appendix 2 Feature Data George H. Odell and Eric J. Menzel
INTRODUCTION The most important single unit of analysis in the Lasley Vore study is the feature. This appendix presents the raw data from which interpretations of features have been made. Since chapter 5 gives an overview of the features for a general audience, an attempt will be made here not to overlap with that chapter (for example, depth, areal dimensions, type, and cluster are listed for each feature in Table 5.1). This appendix comes in two parts. The ¤rst gives the exact provenience, a description, and a list of contents of each feature. The second illustrates the pro¤les of each of the features for which pro¤les could be recorded. Those pits that were almost completely destroyed by the belly loader or were so thin that recording a pro¤le did not make much sense were, of course, not drawn in pro¤le at all. In addition, feature 2, a mussel shell cache, was obviously dug into the ground but no pit outline could be discerned, so we did not draw any (though we did make a pro¤le drawing of the shells and took plenty of photographs). Features 5, 24, 39, and 53 were ultimately determined not to have been anthropogenic in origin and were declassi¤ed as features. Feature type designations were assigned on the basis of drawings, photos, and descriptions recorded during excavation, which may explain any apparent disparities of feature type designations with these drawings. At Lasley Vore the C horizon that surrounded a feature was usually a mottled orange; features were darker in color than this light matrix, usually brown or gray. In the following illustrations, this relationship is nonvarying, no matter whether or not a description of the feature ¤ll is provided. Provenience was taken from the center of the feature. Those features present in the test units were excavated by arbitrary 10 cm level. For this report, however, all levels were combined to facilitate comparison. Only artifacts from levels below the plow zone (¤gured as 15 cm) can de¤nitely be attributed to a feature; hence they probably originally contained more artifacts than the quantities listed. To facilitate comparison with those features encountered after blading operations began, the upper levels of features excavated in test pits were not included with frequencies for that feature. A broken artifact such as a stone tool or bead was recorded as one specimen (unless, of course, two or more pieces were re¤tted to make one object), and weights of shell and pottery are in grams. In the feature content inventory, the following abbreviations are used:
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Ceramics pln = plain inc = incised p/i = punctated or impressed potwt = pottery weight (does not include daub) Fauna shellwt = shell weight rep = reptile/amphibian mam = small mammal Lithics f1 = cortication ®akes f2 = non-cortex ®akes cr = core ab = abrader bi = biface bu = burin ch = chopper dl = drill dn = denticulate gi = ground stone indeterminate gn = gun®int gv = graver ha = hammer ma = mano mt = metate no = notched piece pt = projectile point rf = retouched ®ake (piece) sc = scraper un = uniface wg = wedge wh = worked hematite bone = bone tool FEATUR E DESCR IP TIONS
Feature 1 Provenience: 35S, 60W (Figure 5.5) Description: Straight-sided, ®at-bottomed pit, containing dark brown (10YR 3/3) ¤ll, becoming dark gray-brown (10YR 3/2) near the bottom; interspersed with charcoal. Contents Ceramics: 29 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 228 Lithics: 36 f1, 75 f2, 7 bi, 1 gv, 1 no, 2 pt, 4 rf, 6 sc, 1 un Trade Goods: 10 beads
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Feature 2 Provenience: 18S, 65W (Fig. 5.10) Description: A mussel shell cache overlain by a bison scapula. There seems to be a very faint basin-shaped, dark brown (10YR 3/3) pit outline around the cache, but its boundaries were so tenuous that no pit determination was made. Contents Ceramics: 1 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 8 Fauna: shellwt = 2624; 1 bison Lithics: 11 f1, 15 f2, 1 ma, 1 sc, 1 bone Trade Goods: 1 bead
Feature 3 Provenience: 39S, 62W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Two adjoining basin-shaped pits (treated as one in the ¤eld) with dark brown, soft ¤ll (10YR 3/3), interspersed with charcoal specks and a charcoal concentration. The description here is of the more northerly of the two pits, as the southern pit was very indistinct and mostly destroyed in excavation. Contents Ceramics: 21 pln, 1 daub; potwt = 348 Lithics: 9 f1, 24 f2, 1 sc Trade Goods: 2 beads, 1 iron indeterminate
Feature 4 Provenience: 19S, 55W Description: A 10 cm ash layer, mixed with and underlain by 7 cm of orange burned soil, containing a large number of charcoal ®ecks. Unfortunately, the feature was heavily disturbed by rodent activity. Interpreted as a hearth. The listing here includes artifacts from Test Pit 1, SE quadrant and extension, and Ditch Witch Trench 1. The feature was disturbed to such an extent that its limits were not distinguishable, but it was de¤nitely present in the SE quadrant of TP 1 and in the extension to that test unit. How far the feature extended into the other three quadrants of the test pit is too questionable for the material from those quadrants to be included in this list. Contents Fauna: shellwt = 17
Feature 6 Provenience: 34S, 66W (see Figures 5.4, A2.2) Description: This feature ¤rst became evident at about 13 cm bs with the appearance of a heavy concentration of greasy charcoal-laden black ¤ll, which continued throughout the feature. This is a ®at-bottomed, basin-shaped pit with an almost pure, loose, dark gray ash deposit in the middle at about 46 cm bs. Ash was dumped in, as there was no evidence of in situ burning. The bottom of the pit was lined with two bison scapulae on top of four oblong stone slabs.
Fig. A2.1. Pro¤les of basin-shaped pits. The key pertains to all pro¤les in this appendix.
Fig. A2.1.
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Continued
Contents Ceramics: 82 pln, 1 inc, 3 p/i, 1 daub; potwt = 1156 Fauna: shellwt = 4; 1 rep, 2 bird, 1 mam, 13 bison Lithics: 37 f1, 90 f2, 2 ha, 3 pt, 3 rf, 3 sc, 4 bone Trade Goods: 15 beads, 1 nail, 1 gun trigger guard, 1 gun side piece
Feature 7 Provenience: 35.5S, 65W (see Figure A2.2) Description: A ®at-bottomed, basin-shaped pit. The north-south pro¤le shows a bulge on the bottom of the pit, not evident in the E–W pro¤le. The ¤ll consists of dark soil mixed with several white ash and charcoal concentrations. From about 44 cm bs to the bottom the pit was ¤lled with ¤re-cracked rocks and shell. The
Fig. A2.2. Pro¤les of ®at-bottomed, basin-shaped pits.
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latter became denser near the bottom of the pit, mixed with some loose pieces of burned earth. It ended up as a trash pit. Contents: Ceramics: 30 pln, 1 inc, 3 daub; potwt = 257 Fauna: shellwt = 424; 10 rep, 1 mam, 1 bison Lithics: 13 f1, 52 f2, 1 bi, 1 ha, 2 ma, 2 sc
Feature 8 Provenience: 35.5S, 66.5W (see Figure A2.6) Description: No clear boundaries visible. The feature consists mainly of a very thin scatter of charcoal and small pieces of burned earth. The proximity of a ¤re is evident, but there is no evidence for in situ burning. It was probably a dump area. Contents Ceramics: 17 pln; potwt = 89 Fauna: shellwt = 1 Lithics: 1 f1, 1 ma Trade Goods: 15 beads
Feature 9 Provenience: 34.2S, 65.3W Description: Large circular, basin-shaped pit ¤lled with a very extensive lens of loose white ash mixed with scattered charcoal pieces and bright orange burned earth. The rest of the ¤ll is of a medium brown color. The bottom of the feature is lined with very hard, orange-colored, ¤red soil. Note: While we were excavating this feature, a construction worker scooped out the white ash lens from the north pro¤le in the late afternoon after we had left the site for the day. The next morning we found some bones and ®akes lying on the baulk wall of the pit and it is assumed there was no loss of artifacts (we were also informed later by someone who had witnessed this event that nothing had been removed). Contents Ceramics: 52 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 744 Fauna: shellwt = 299; 11 rep, 14 mam, 11 deer Lithics: 18 f1, 74 f2, 2 ab, 2 bi, 1 ch, 1 gi, 1 ha, 1 no, 1 pt, 4 sc, 2 bone Trade Goods: 12 beads, 1 button
Feature 10 Provenience: 10.5S, 60W (see Figure A2.4) Description: Large bell-shaped pit with a bulging bottom. The ¤ll was soft and dark brown in color. There was a large, very diffuse band of charcoal in the middle of the feature at a depth of 45–55 cm bs. On the bottom was a large sandstone slab. Contents Ceramics: 39 pln, 1 p/i; potwt = 195 Lithics: 9 f1, 22 f2, 1 bi, 2 pt, 1 rf
Fig. A2.3. Pro¤les of ®at-bottomed, straight-sided pits.
Fig. A2.4. Pro¤les of bell-shaped pits.
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Fig. A2.4. Continued
Feature 11 Provenience: 35.7S, 64.3W (see Figure A2.7) Description: This feature became apparent at 20 cm bs and consisted of a circular area ¤lled with light gray ash. This could have been a burned posthole, though no charcoal was present. The feature was indistinct and dif¤cult to follow. Contents Ceramics: 2 pln; potwt = 16 Fauna: shellwt = 5
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Fig. A2.5. Pro¤les of irregularly shaped pits.
Feature 12 Provenience: 40S, 89W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Shallow bowl-shaped pit, ¤lled with light gray ash mottled with orange burned clay. Contents: Fauna: 2 mam Lithics: 2 f1, 1 f2
Feature 13 Provenience: 40S, 92.5W (see Figure A2.5) Description: Irregularly shaped pit somewhat darker than surrounding matrix
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Fig. A2.6. Pro¤les of hearth pits (F 22, 40, 50, 52) and hearth dump (F 8).
but also containing ash and burned clay. It perhaps became a hearth dump, though this may not have been its original purpose. Contents Ceramics: 1 pln; potwt = 32 Fauna: shellwt = 15; 1 mam, 1 bison Lithics: 1 f1, 8 f2
Feature 14 Provenience: 37S, 89W (see Figure A2.7) Description: Mussel shell cache in a faint outline of slightly darker brown soil than the surrounding matrix; located in a disturbed area.
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Fig. A2.7. Pro¤les of various feature types: F 78, artifact concentration; F 14, mussel shell cache; F 76, possible post mold; F 11, 74, 81, indeterminate features.
Contents Fauna: shellwt = 1297 Lithics: 1 f2, 1 ma
Feature 15 Provenience: 79S, 25W (see Figure A2.1) Description: A basin-shaped pit with an ill-de¤ned outline. The ¤ll consisted of a medium brown soil mixed with charcoal ®ecks. Contents Ceramics: 11 pln; potwt = 2 Fauna: 7 rep, 1 deer Lithics: 5 f1, 16 f2
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Feature 16 Provenience: 77S, 36W Description: Concentration of antler, stone, and bone; no outline of a pit feature visible. Contents Ceramics: 54 pln, 6 inc; potwt = 685 Fauna: shellwt = 1; 8 ¤sh, 39 rep, 1 mam, 13 bison, 4 deer Lithics: 32 f1, 169 f2, 1 ab, 2 bi, 2 pt, 3 sc, 1 bone
Feature 17 Provenience: 80S, 23W Description: Small artifact concentration; no pit outline visible. Contents Lithics: 1 f1, 7 f2
Feature 18 Provenience: 33.5S, 63.5W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Basin-shaped pit in one pro¤le; a second pro¤le showed a bulge in the bottom of the pit. The ¤ll was dark and soft with a light charcoal scatter throughout. Near the bottom, three yellow sandstone slabs and some ¤re-cracked rocks were present. Contents Ceramics: 7 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 47 Lithics: 11 f1, 175 f2, 2 bi, 1 ma, 1 rf, 1 sc
Feature 19 Provenience: 95S, 47W Description: Small burned area, very shallow. It was dif¤cult to tell whether the area had contained in situ burning or was a hearth dump. Contents Lithics: 1 f2
Feature 20 Provenience: 97S, 44W Description: Small shallow, charcoal-¤lled pit with an irregular outline. Contents Ceramics: 1 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 1 Fauna: shellwt = 1 Lithics: 4 f2
Feature 21 Provenience: 72.5S, 36.5W (see Figure A2.4) Description: Bell-shaped pit with very dark brown ¤ll containing charcoal pieces throughout.
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Contents Ceramics: 27 pln, 1 p/i; potwt = 217 Fauna: 1 rep, 1 bison, 7 deer Lithics: 11 f1, 35 f2, 1 ma, 1 bone Trade Goods: 2 beads
Feature 22 Provenience: 70S, 36.5W (see Figure A2.6) Description: Large circular, ®at-bottomed, and straight-sided ¤re pit with dark gray ¤ll and charcoal pieces throughout, and a yellow “®agstone” on the bottom. Most of the ¤ll appears to have been dumped in after the burning took place, though not all of it. Contents Ceramics: 27 pln; potwt = 136 Fauna: 1 rep, 6 mam, 1 bison, 12 deer Lithics: 12 f1, 46 f2, 1 bi, 4 pt, 2 rf, 3 sc, 2 un Trade Goods: 2 beads
Feature 23 Provenience: 69S, 33W (see Figure A2.5) Description: Large irregularly shaped basin ¤lled with charcoal and ¤re-cracked rocks. Contents Ceramics: 14 pln, 2 inc; potwt = 316 Fauna: 2 ¤sh, 5 rep, 7 mam, 1 bison, 12 deer Lithics: 23 f1, 78 f2, 1 ab, 1 ma, 3 pt, 3 rf, 4 sc Trade Goods: 1 bead
Feature 25 Provenience: 105S, 44W Description: Unde¤nable, shallow dark stained area without clear boundaries. Contents Ceramics: 2 pln; potwt = 1 Fauna: 3 deer Lithics: 4 f1, 6 f2, 1 rf Trade Goods: 2 beads
Feature 26 Provenience: 54S, 54W Description: A concentration of ®akes without any other surrounding elements. The excavator described it as a “®ake cache.” Contents Lithics: 15 f1, 65 f2
Feature 27 Provenience: 54S, 21.5W (see Figure A2.2)
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Description: Flat-bottomed, basin-shaped pit with indistinct boundaries containing medium-to-dark brown ¤ll with charcoal ®ecks and burned clay throughout. In the center a darker ash/charcoal concentration was present. Contents Ceramics: 10 pln; potwt = 201 Fauna: 1 rep, 4 deer Lithics: 2 f1, 7 f2, 1 ab, 2 sc
Feature 28 Provenience: 55S, 54W (see Figure A2.4) Description: Bell-shaped, ®at-bottomed pit, with dark brown (organic?) ¤ll. Scattered throughout were fairly large charcoal ®ecks and a large amount of charred corn kernels. Contents Ceramics: 28 pln, 7 inc, 1 p/i; potwt = 213 Fauna: 2 rep Lithics: 23 f1, 141 f2, 2 ab, 1 ch, 1 ha, 1 ma, 4 rf, 1 sc, 1 wh Trade Goods: 15 beads, 2 pieces of gun trigger guards
Feature 29 Provenience: 55S, 58W (see Figure 5.3) Description: Shallow basin-shaped pit with ¤ll consisting of a light gray ash layer containing widely scattered charcoal pieces, surrounded by medium brown unburned ¤ll. Contents Ceramics: 1 pln; potwt = 8 Fauna: shellwt = 14; 13 rep, 1 mam, 3 deer Lithics: 2 f1, 15 f2
Feature 30 Provenience: 68S, 60.5W (see Figure A2.4) Description: Bell-shaped pit with dark gray-brown ¤ll, containing some ¤recracked rocks in the western part near the bottom. Charcoal ®ecks covered the bottom of the pit. Contents Ceramics: 18 pln, 1 inc, 1 p/i; potwt = 65 Lithics: 50 f1, 96 f2, 2 bi, 1 dl, 4 pt, 1 rf, 3 sc, 1 un Trade Goods: 1 bead, 1 tinkling cone
Feature 31 Provenience: 62S, 63.5W (see Figure 5.6) Description: Large bell-shaped pit containing a substantial amount of debris throughout the ¤ll, which is dark gray-brown. There were some ¤re-cracked rocks near the bottom and two distinct ash lenses: one circular area near the top, and
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one 12–20 cm from the top. These suggest two ¤ll episodes with a boundary between them. Contents Ceramics: 51 pln, 4 inc, 1 daub; potwt = 1239 Fauna: shellwt = 480; 2 rep, 2 bird, 21 mam, 9 bison, 12 deer Lithics: 10 f1, 73 f2, 2 bi, 2 ma, 3 pt, 4 rf, 1 sc, 2 wh, 1 bone Trade Goods: 3 beads
Feature 32 Provenience: 66.5S, 74W (see Figure A2.2) Description: A faintly delineated, basin-shaped, ®at-bottomed pit with dark brown ¤ll. To the west of this pit is a faint, roughly 16 cm deep stain without clear boundaries. In the center of the feature is a 45 cm wide and 30 cm deep charcoal concentration. Contents Ceramics: 38 pln, 4 p/i; potwt = 1343 Fauna: 1 bison Lithics: 28 f1, 60 f2, 1 bi, 1 bu, 1 pt, 2 rf, 2 sc Trade Goods: 1 bead
Feature 33 Provenience: 58.5S, 58W (see Figure A2.4) Description: Large bell-shaped, slightly irregular storage pit. On the bottom of the pit was a 5–12 cm thick grayish-white layer of a sticky, clayey consistency. The rest of the ¤ll was a dark gray-brown color. Contents Ceramics: 6 pln; potwt = 28 Fauna: shellwt = 3; 2 rep, 1 mam, 2 bison, 2 deer Lithics: 6 f1, 41 f2, 2 ab, 1 bi, 1 ma, 1 pt, 1 rf, 2 sc Trade Goods: 2 beads
Feature 34 Provenience: 57.5S, 56W Description: Ash concentration without clear boundaries. Excavated to 20 cm below plow zone, where the scattered ash terminated. Probably a dump zone. Contents Fauna: 1 rep Lithics: 1 f2
Feature 35 Provenience: 70S, 38W (see Figure A2.3) Description: Straight-sided, ®at-bottomed pit with a light gray ash concentration in the eastern side of the pit (about 15 cm in diameter). The ¤ll was dark gray-brown and contained scattered large charcoal specks.
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Contents Ceramics: 17 pln, 1 p/i; potwt = 147 Fauna: shellwt = 1; 1 ¤sh, 4 rep, 22 mam, 3 bison, 2 deer Lithics: 25 f1, 37 f2, 3 pt, 1 rf, 3 sc
Feature 36 Provenience: 40S, 28.5W (see Figure A2.3) Description: Straight-sided, ®at-bottomed pit with dark brown ¤ll and some scattered light gray ash in the center of the pit. Contents Ceramics: 131 pln, 6 p/i; potwt = 1487 Fauna: 1 rep, 5 bison, 3 deer Lithics: 20 f1, 234 f2, 1 bi, 3 ma, 1 rf, 2 sc, 1 un Trade Goods: 1 bead, 1 iron indeterminate
Feature 37 Provenience: 46.5S, 16W (see Figure A2.1) Description: This feature represents two bowl-shaped pits with dark brown ¤ll and charcoal scatters throughout. In between is a faintly delineated dark discoloration. The western pit contains a clearly delineated charcoal and light gray ash concentration. Contents Ceramics: 3 pln; potwt = 25 Fauna: 1 bison, 9 deer Lithics: 7 f1, 24 f2, 1 dn, 3 ma, 1 pt, 1 rf, 1 sc Trade Goods: 1 bead
Feature 38 Provenience: 62S, 76.5W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Bowl-shaped pit with dark gray-brown ¤ll and scattered charcoal throughout. Extending from the eastern edge of the feature was an area slightly darker than the surrounding soil but without any clear delineation. Contents Ceramics: 7 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 99 Lithics: 9 f1, 32 f2, 1 bi, 1 dn, 1 ma, 1 pt, 1 rf, 1 sc, 1 un Trade Goods: 6 beads, 1 brass sheet fragment
Feature 40 Provenience: 40.5S, 56W (see Figure A2.6) Description: Bowl-shaped, ®at-bottomed pit with an extensive ash lens in the center mixed with pieces of bright orange burned soil. At the bottom of the pit is a hard orange burned clayey level ¤lled with pieces of charcoal. All the pottery came from the top of the feature. This appears to have been a ¤re pit. Contents Ceramics: 30 pln; potwt = 402
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173
Fauna: shellwt = 26; 2 rep, 1 bison, 1 deer Lithics: 3 f1, 11 f2, 1 ab
Feature 41 Provenience: 41.5S, 63W (see Figure A2.3) Description: Straight-sided and ®at-bottomed pit with dark brown ¤ll. The main characteristic of this pit was the bone concentration on top. Contents Ceramics: 17 pln, 1 inc, 1 p/i; potwt = 176 Fauna: shellwt = 25; 4 bison, 5 deer Lithics: 6 f1, 30 f2, 2 pt, 1 wg Trade Goods: 1 bead, 1 knife blade
Feature 42 Provenience: 11.5S, 2E (see Figure A2.3) Description: The deepest pit on the site, with a soft, dark gray-brown ¤ll (organic?). The sides were bioturbated and therefore appeared irregular, but the principal pit outline was straight-sided and ®at-bottomed. It was intruded by another pit (feature 67). A dark interior zone could represent another intrusive pit, but the outline was very faint and the ¤ll only slightly darker than the rest of the feature. It is more likely that the darker color was a result of organic ¤ll. Contents Ceramics: 23 pln, 1 inc, 1 p/i; potwt = 140 Fauna: shellwt = 3; 2 rep, 5 deer Lithics: 9 f1, 47 f2, 1 ab, 2 pt, 1 rf, 1 sc
Feature 43 Provenience: 32.3S, 10W (see Figure A2.2) Description: Irregular basin-shaped, ®at-bottomed pit, with dark gray-brown ¤ll. There was an ash and charcoal concentration near the top of the feature and a charcoal concentration near the bottom. Contents Ceramics: 23 pln; potwt = 190 Fauna: shellwt = 8; 2 ¤sh, 13 rep, 7 bird, 1 bison, 16 deer Lithics: 17 f1, 58 f2, 1 pt, 4 rf, 2 sc, 1 un Trade Goods: 2 beads, 1 brass indeterminate
Feature 44 Provenience: 34S, 11.5W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Shallow basin-shaped pit ¤lled with dark gray-brown soil and a dark gray ash/charcoal concentration in the center. Contents Ceramics: 4 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 12 Fauna: 22 rep, 1 deer
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Lithics: 14 f2, 1 sc Trade Goods: 1 bead
Feature 45 Provenience: 35S, 8W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Shallow basin-shaped pit with a dark gray-brown ¤ll containing charcoal inclusions and a medium-gray ash concentration (20 cm diameter and 14 cm deep) in the center. An area with very thinly scattered ash was evident up to 40 cm west of the pit. Contents Ceramics: 13 pln, 2 inc, 1 p/i; potwt = 51 Fauna: shellwt = 1; 1 ¤sh, 2 rep, 1 mam, 2 deer Lithics: 2 f1, 14 f2, 1 pt, 1 sc Trade Goods: 1 brass indeterminate
Feature 46 Provenience: 38.5S, 4W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Shallow oblong pit with dark brown ¤ll containing small amounts of charcoal. In the center was a heavy, light gray ash concentration (56 × 51 cm). Contents Ceramics: 2 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 18 Fauna: shellwt = 5; 2 mam, 8 deer Lithics: 1 f1, 10 f2, 1 dn
Feature 47 Provenience: 41S, 2.5W (see Figure A2.5) Description: Shallow dark brown pit with a concentration of burned black soil near the surface. Its lower outline was irregularly shaped. Contents Lithics: 4 f2, 1 pt Trade Goods: 2 beads
Feature 48 Provenience: 34.5S, 15W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Shallow basin-shaped pit with a heavy, well-de¤ned dark gray charcoal stain. No burned soil or ash was present. Contents Ceramics: 1 pln; potwt = 24 Lithics: 5 f1, 8 f2
Feature 49 Provenience: 34.5S, 17.5W (see Figure A2.5) Description: Irregularly shaped pit with indistinct boundaries. Dark graybrown ¤ll with an ash concentration in the center (20 cm diameter, 7 cm deep), which had some clayey soil in it.
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175
Contents Ceramics: 17 pln; potwt = 72 Fauna: shellwt = 5; 1 ¤sh, 4 rep, 2 bison, 6 deer Lithics: 11 f1, 25 f2, 1 ma, 1 pt, 1 sc Trade Goods: 2 beads
Feature 50 Provenience: 33S, 17W (see Figure A2.6) Description: Shallow, basin-shaped hearth pit with well-de¤ned borders. It contained dark gray charcoal ¤ll. Contents Ceramics: 3 pln, 1 p/i; potwt = 32 Fauna: 1 rep, 1 deer Lithics: 1 f1, 15 f2, 1 dl, 1 gn, 1 pt, 1 rf
Feature 51 Provenience: 41S, 20W (see Figure A2.1) Description: A very shallow, basin-shaped pit containing dark gray charcoal, burned clay, and scattered shell fragments. The feature had poorly de¤ned boundaries. Contents Fauna: shellwt = 7
Feature 52 Provenience: 40S, 26.5W (see Figure A2.6) Description: Shallow, roughly circular, straight-sided, ®at-bottomed pit. In the center and the western half of the pit were concentrations of bright orange burned clay. The rest of the feature consisted mainly of dark brown ¤ll with scattered ash and charcoal ®ecks. The burned clay suggests some in situ burning. Contents Ceramics: 7 pln, 3 p/i; potwt = 57 Fauna: shellwt = 6; 1 ¤sh, 2 rep, 5 mam, 1 bison, 4 deer Lithics: 2 f1, 20 f2, 2 rf Trade Goods: 1 bead
Feature 54 Provenience: 105S, 71.5W Description: A metal detector operator led us to a gun barrel at this location. It happened that this object was at the bottom of what appeared to have been a ¤re pit. The pit was not properly excavated, since most of it was destroyed when the gun barrel was removed by the metal detector operator. Contents Lithics: 3 f1, 16 f2, 1 bi, 1 sc Trade Goods: 1 gun barrel
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Feature 55 Provenience: 32S, 9W (see Figure A2.5) Description: Irregularly shaped pit, straight-sided at one end and basin-shaped at the other. Contained a homogeneous dark brown ¤ll. Contents Lithics: 1 f2, 1 rf
Feature 56 Provenience: 16.5S, 69W (see Figure A2.2) Description: Shallow, straight-sided pit with an irregular bottom from heavy leaching, and dark, gray-brown ¤ll. In the center a charcoal and gray ash concentration was present (18 cm diameter, 10 cm deep). Contents Ceramics: 1 pln; potwt = 23 Fauna: shellwt = 10; 7 ¤sh, 16 rep, 1 mam, 2 deer Lithics: 6 f1, 18 f2, 1 bi, 3 sc
Feature 57 Provenience: 16S, 71W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Irregular but essentially basin-shaped pit with indistinct boundaries and dark brown (organic?) ¤ll, containing scattered charcoal ®ecks. Contents Ceramics: 1 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 6 Fauna: 1 ¤sh, 2 rep, 6 mam, 1 deer Lithics: 5 f1, 14 f2
Feature 58 Provenience: 18S, 72W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Shallow, basin-shaped pit with dark gray-brown ¤ll containing some scattered charcoal pieces. Contents Ceramics: 11 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 42 Fauna: 11 rep Lithics: 9 f1, 78 f2, 1 ha, 1 pt Trade Goods: 1 bead, 1 iron rod
Feature 59 Provenience: 38S, 64W (see Figure A2.2) Description: Shallow, ®at-bottomed, basin-shaped pit containing dark graybrown ¤ll with scattered charcoal and one ®at sandstone rock. Contents Ceramics: 6 pln; potwt = 19 Fauna: 2 deer
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Lithics: 9 f1, 34 f2, 1 ab, 2 ma, 2 pt, 1 sc Trade Goods: 1 bead
Feature 60 Provenience: 25S, 68W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Shallow, basin-shaped pit with indistinct boundaries and containing mottled medium-brown ¤ll. The only distinct characteristic was a light gray ash concentration in the center (20 cm diameter, 16 cm deep) with some charcoal ®ecks. Contents Fauna: shellwt = 2 Lithics: 3 f2
Feature 61 Provenience: 31S, 66.5W (see Figure A2.2) Description: Shallow, ®at-bottomed, basin-shaped pit. It contained dark graybrown ¤ll and two scapulae on the bottom. Contents Ceramics: 12 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 123 Fauna: shellwt = 62; 19 rep, 4 bison, 1 deer Lithics: 5 f1, 29 f2, 1 pt, 3 rf, 1 sc, 1 un, 4 bone Trade Goods: 1 bead
Feature 62 Provenience: 32S, 68W (see Figures 5.7, 5.8, A2.4) Description: Large bell-shaped pit containing dark gray ¤ll with a substantial quantity of charcoal and, further down, a heavy ash concentration with charcoal ®ecks, metate fragments, and ¤re-cracked rocks. Most of the artifacts were located in the bottom of the pit, underneath the metates. Here the ¤ll consisted of a mottled black and orange burned soil with a large amount of charcoal and some shell fragments, suggestive of in situ burning. Contents Ceramics: 20 pln, 1 daub; potwt = 441 Fauna: shellwt = 31; 3 bird, 2 mam, 12 bison, 1 deer Lithics: 26 f1, 135 f2, 1 ab, 1 bi, 1 dn, 1 gv, 1 ma, 2 mt, 2 no, 4 rf, 2 sc, 1 bone Trade Goods: 16 beads, 1 knife blade, 1 brass indeterminate
Feature 63 Provenience: 31.3S, 63W (see Figure A2.4) Description: Large bell-shaped pit with dark gray-brown ¤ll and containing charcoal throughout the feature. Contents Ceramics: 40 pln, 4 inc; potwt = 257 Fauna: shellwt = 52; 1 rep, 4 bird, 1 mam, 13 bison, 13 deer Lithics: 20 f1, 131 f2, 1 cr, 1 ab, 2 bi, 2 dl, 3 dn, 1 gn, 1 mt, 7 pt, 5 sc,
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Appendix 2
1 bone Trade Goods: 6 beads
Feature 64 Provenience: 38S, 56.5W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Shallow, basin-shaped pit, with dark gray-brown ¤ll and one small charcoal concentration at about 10 cm depth. Contents Ceramics: 1 pln, 1 p/i; potwt = 3036 Fauna: 2 bison Lithics: 1 f1, 10 f2
Feature 65 Provenience: 37.5S, 62W Description: Shallow, dark gray-brown, ill-de¤ned feature with shell inclusions. More of a smear or concentration than a pit. Contents Ceramics: 1 pln; potwt = 1 Fauna: shellwt = 25; 1 rep Lithics: 7 f2
Feature 66 Provenience: 36S, 62W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Basin-shaped pit with indistinct boundaries containing dark brown and orange mottled ¤ll. Contents Ceramics: 6 pln; potwt = 36 Fauna: shellwt = 1; 3 deer Lithics: 2 f1, 11 f2, 1 un
Feature 67 Provenience: 11S, 2E (see Figure A2.3) Description: Small ®at-bottomed pit, intersecting feature 42. Manifested itself as a dark brown, clearly de¤ned stain. The part that intersected feature 42 yielded no artifacts and appeared very disturbed by rodent activity; thus the rest of the feature was not excavated. Contents no artifacts
Feature 68 Provenience: 27S, 70.2W Description: Shell cache with a small charcoal concentration on bottom of shell heap. Contents Ceramics: 1 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 6 Fauna: shellwt = 799
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Feature 69 Provenience: 37S, 63W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Small basin-shaped pit containing dark gray-brown ¤ll. It possessed a heavy charcoal concentration, two black greasy areas (one of which had a large concentration of carbonized corn kernels), and some nutshells. Contents Ceramics: 21 pln; potwt = 102 Fauna: shellwt = 2; 1 bison Lithics: 7 f2, 1 ma, 1 pt, 1 sc Trade Goods: 1 kettle fragment, 1 gun butt plate ¤nial
Feature 70 Provenience: 34.5S, 62.5W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Shallow, irregular, basin-shaped pit, with dark brown ¤ll and one large slab of sandstone burned on the underside. Contents Ceramics: 10 pln; potwt = 37 Fauna: shellwt = 10; 1 rep, 1 deer Lithics: 4 f1, 31 f2, 2 sc, 1 un
Feature 71 Provenience: 30.7S, 63.8W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Circular, dark gray-brown, bowl-shaped pit. Contents Ceramics: 6 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 30 Lithics: 2 f1, 16 f2, 1 ma, 1 pt
Feature 72 Provenience: 37.5S, 59.8W (see Figure A2.4) Description: Bell-shaped pit with very soft, dark gray-brown ¤ll (organic?). Throughout the ¤ll, scattered pieces of charcoal and some large ¤re-cracked rocks were present, suggesting possible in situ burning. Contents Ceramics: 42 pln, 2 inc; potwt = 365 Fauna: 1 bird, 1 mam, 2 bison, 6 deer Lithics: 32 f1, 114 f2, 1 ab, 1 bi, 2 bu, 1 ma, 1 pt, 2 rf, 2 sc, 1 un, 1 wh Trade Goods: 2 beads
Feature 73 Provenience: 38S, 63W (see Figure 5.9) Description: Basin-shaped pit with light gray ash concentration in the center, denoting use as a ¤re pit. The ¤ll was dark gray-brown with charcoal pieces scattered throughout. All the pottery was located on the top of the feature in the ash concentration.
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Contents Ceramics: 158 pln, 37 p/i; potwt = 4329 Fauna: shellwt = 36; 1 bird, 5 mam, 1 bison Lithics: 7 f1, 54 f2, 1 gn, 1 rf, 1 bone Trade Goods: 1 bead
Feature 74 Provenience: 38S, 67.3W (see Figure A2.7) Description: Shallow, dark concentration with gray, loose ¤ll. The top of the feature was truncated by the belly loader, and function remains problematic. Contents Ceramics: 3 pln; potwt = 4 Fauna: 1 bison, 1 deer Lithics: 3 f1, 7 f2, 1 dn, 1 gn Trade Goods: 5 beads, 1 brass sheet fragment
Feature 75 Provenience: 5N, 62.5W (see Figure A2.2) Description: Large ®at-bottomed, basin-shaped pit with some burned clay and charcoal ®ecks throughout. Contents Lithics: 1 f1, 2 f2
Feature 76 Provenience: 10.5S, 69.5W (see Figure A2.7) Description: Circular stain with charcoal lens around the perimeter. A narrow oblong feature in pro¤le, it may have been a posthole. However, it was ill-de¤ned once the charcoal perimeter petered out about 5 cm down from where it was ¤rst recognized, so its integrity is suspect. Contents Ceramics: 11 pln; potwt = 124 Fauna: shellwt = 11 Lithics: 6 f2 Trade Goods: 1 bead
Feature 77 Provenience: 10.5S, 74W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Light charcoal scatter on the surface; underneath was a very faint bowl-shaped, dark brown discoloration. Contents: no artifacts
Feature 78 Provenience: 6.5N, 22W (see Figure A2.7) Description: Bone and pottery concentration surrounded by a faint mottled soil discoloration.
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181
Contents Ceramics: 26 pln; potwt = 165 Fauna: 2 deer Lithics: 11 f2, 1 un
Feature 79 Provenience: 0.5S, 19W (see Figure A2.1) Description: Large basin-shaped pit with dark gray-brown ¤ll and a gray ash and charcoal concentration in the center. Contents Ceramics: 10 pln; potwt = 58 Fauna: shellwt = 669; 1 ¤sh, 5 mam, 3 bison, 45 deer Lithics: 15 f1, 32 f2, 1 rf, 1 sc Trade Goods: 2 beads
Feature 80 Provenience: 2.5N, 81W (see Figure A2.4) Description: The “inner pit” (considered the feature here) was a large, constricted, bell-shaped pit with a dark gray-brown ¤ll on top. Near the middle of the feature a light gray ash concentration was located atop a charcoal-¤lled lens. Near the bottom was another heavy charcoal/ash mixture lens. Outside this pit was a basin-shaped, vaguely outlined area of mottled orange/dark brown soil, which may have been a mixed unit from the original excavation of the pit. This outer con¤guration, whose dimensions are not included in Table 5.1, was 160 cm in diameter and went to a depth of 65 cm below the plow zone. Contents Ceramics: 45 pln, 3 inc, 3 p/i; potwt = 198 Fauna: shellwt = 37; 3 rep, 3 bison, 3 deer Lithics: 11 f1, 68 f2, 2 pt, 1 bone
Feature 81 Provenience: 31.5S, 64W (see Figure A2.7) Description: We excavated the bottom of a facility of unknown shape and illde¤ned outline. The ¤ll was dark gray-brown with small charcoal specks. Contents Ceramics: 3 pln; potwt = 32 Fauna: 1 ¤sh, 1 bison, 3 deer Lithics: 2 f1, 12 f2, 1 ab Trade Goods: 1 bead, 1 knife blade
Feature 82 Provenience: 2.5N, 19W (see Figure A2.2) Description: Flat-bottomed, basin-shaped pit with an irregular, ill-de¤ned outline. The pit contained dark brown ¤ll with a charcoal concentration and three large sandstone slabs on the bottom.
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Contents Ceramics: 7 pln, 1 inc; potwt = 62 Faunas: 1 mam, 1 bison, 3 deer Lithics: 6 f1, 32 f2, 1 wg
Feature 83 Provenience: 12S, 14.5E Description: Features 83, 84, and 85 were investigated in September 1988 by request of an of¤cial of the Kimberly-Clark Corporation, who feared that bones encountered by the belly loader in the area just south of the Lasley Vore grave plot were attributable to historic Creek Indian burials. They were actually protohistoric pits or ash dump areas from site 34TU65, but only small remnants of the bottoms were left. They were photographed, but no pro¤les could be drawn and they were not excavated. Contents: no artifacts
Feature 84 Provenience: 11.5S, 20E Description: See description for feature 83. Contents: no artifacts
Feature 85 Provenience: 5.5S, 9.5E Description: This was a heavily disturbed feature discovered at the same time and in the same way as features 83 and 84, but slightly more of the feature escaped the belly loader. The remnants indicated a possible bell-shaped pit with light gray ash ¤ll, but this determination is far from certain. Contents Ceramics: 1 pln; potwt = 1 Fauna: shellwt = 1; some unidenti¤able bone fragments recovered too late to submit to the faunal analyst. Lithics: 25 f2
Appendix 3 Observations on the Faunal Remains from 34TU65 Bonnie C. Yates and Marie E. Brown with Lee Anna Schniebs GENER A L CH A R ACTER ISTICS A ND PR ESERVATION Approximately 5,000 bones and 6.5 kg of mollusk shells were submitted to the Zooarchaeology Lab of the Institute of Applied Sciences (UNT) for identi¤cation and analysis. These faunal remains were recovered from test units and features associated with a contact period site in Tulsa County, Oklahoma, and represent food refuse and objects of utilitarian value. Standard zooarchaeological methods of identi¤cation and quanti¤cation were employed in the analysis (Chaplin 1971; Cornwall 1956; Parmalee 1967). Table 6.1 lists the vertebrate taxa identi¤ed from these remains. The unidenti¤ed fraction contains fragments either too small, worn, or nondiagnostic to ascertain skeletal element or taxonomic designation. The great majority of the unidenti¤ed bone, however, appears to be remains from large mammals, probably bison and deer. Size categories are included in Table 6.1 and are counted with the identi¤ed taxa only when element and an estimation of size of animal could be determined. Tables A3.1 and A3.2 (keyed to the faunal list in Table 6.1) recount the provenience units in which the nonmammalian vertebrates and mammals, respectively, were found, and Table A3.3 lists the molluscan species present on the site. Table A3.4 shows the representation of fauna in the various feature types. Preservation quality differs widely across the site and with depth. Some bones appear virtually unaffected by carnivore and rodent gnawing, weathering, or soil chemicals. Others, however, are very friable, exfoliated, and gnawed. There seems to be no pattern to the quality of bone preservation. These differential effects can be attributed to singular circumstances of disposal rather than to a speci¤c mode of behavior toward refuse disposal. For example, a complete deer ulna awl from feature 9 (TP4/NE) appears almost fresh, with little or no deterioration despite its 50 cm depth. It must have been buried quickly and/or wrapped in a substance that would retard the effects of soil chemicals, root hairs, and leaching, yet not survive the bone itself. From the same test pit (TP4/NE) but outside the feature, a long, tapering broken awl fragment was recovered. Its surface (cortical bone) is exfoliated, indicating some deteriorating taphonomic difference in disposal 20 cm above the ulna tool. The cause of this phenomenon is under investigation using bone tool assemblages from sites in the Cooper Lake project area, Hopkins and Delta Counties, Texas (Yates 1988). In the example above, purposeful burial of the complete deer ulna awl is sug-
Fig. A3.1. Pattern of marks on bison scapula.
Fig. A3.2. Two possible handle designs for bison scapula digging tools.
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gested by its excellent preservation, whereas the other bone tool was left exposed to weathering agents and soil chemicals. Burned bone is toughened somewhat against surface-eroding effects. This is especially apparent on bone tools for which scorching and polish have further served to strengthen the bone. About 40 percent of the deer and bison bones from the Lasley Vore site are burned. Most of these have been blackened or scorched, although many are partially or completely calcined, indicating long exposure to heat. Even though bones get burned via natural as well as cultural means, burning patterns for this assemblage suggest the full range of cultural behaviors that result in burned bones. There are charred ends of long bones that can result from roasting meat on the bone, whereby the broken bone shaft is exposed directly to ®ames as the cooked meat shrinks. Additionally, this assemblage exhibits charred spiral fractures, which can occur when the periosteal sheath is burned away near the percussion point on a marrow (that is, limb) bone shaft (Lintz 1976; Gilbert 1980). Completely calcined waste elements may have gotten that way by being burned in ¤re pits or cooking hearths either as fuel supplements or for disposal purposes. Feature 79, for example, was composed almost exclusively of deer toe bones that had been burned to a chalky white color. Small unidenti¤able bone fragments of large
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mammals were apparently disposed of in ¤re pits or cooking hearths possibly after being rendered for bone grease. Burning of turtle shell is most likely associated with use of the carapace as a vessel, but burning of mollusk shells, ¤sh, fowl, and rodent remains is less straightforward, probably a result of refuse disposal. SPECIES COMPOSITION The presence of four species of aquatic turtles and the three major families of ¤shes for this region indicates a more than casual exploitation of riverine environments. Added to these are the ¤ve mammalian, two avian, and nine molluscan genera that would have been procured from the riparian and littoral zones of a large body of water. Some species in Table 6.1 are probably intrusive to the archaeological context. Burrowing rodents such as pocket gophers and cotton rats require at least six inches of sandy soil for constructing their runs (Davis 1978). They sometimes die in their tunnels and become incorporated in the cultural record. Smaller animals, including other rodents, may be deposited on an abandoned site by raptors or other predators. Nevertheless, rodents are known from human coprolites found in prehistoric dry
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caves (Sobolik 1988; Williams-Dean 1978). In a diffuse subsistence strategy, these small creatures would be useful in supplementing a diet of beef and venison. Pig teeth from the south construction area are troublesome; they may be modern intrusives (no vertical provenience is recorded) or they may represent direct or indirect contact with Europeans (gift/trade/theft). It is impossible to determine whether these pig teeth are associated with the archaeological materials or were deposited there independently. Now extirpated from the region, black bear and cougar would have been formidable prey obtained from the woods and bottoms near the rivers. Their importance as food (especially bear grease) and sources of raw material for utilitarian objects for Caddoan-speaking tribes is well documented (Le Page Du Pratz 1947:248; Swanton 1911:67–69, 1942:137,157). Both elements from these animals are foot bones, which may have fallen out of decomposing pelts because paws were often retained with the pelt. In addition, bobcat, skunk, coyote(?), and beaver are present in the assemblage and may represent species hunted for their furs as well as for food and bone tools. The birds from this site are few, but the identi¤ed remains suggest spring and/or fall hunting. Even though exact species of teal and sandpiper have not been determined because of interspeci¤c skeletal similarities, the majority of species in each respective taxon migrate in spring and fall through the project area (Robbins et al. 1966). Although turkey is a resident of open woodlands in the region today, it would have been more abundant before agricultural clearing took place (Schorger 1966). Spring and fall are times of turkey ®ock gathering, facilitating easier hunting during those times. Two individual turkeys are represented in the assemblage. Most of the turkey bones are phalanges from the second digit of the wings, suggesting a consistent processing pattern. The exclusivity of these elements is unusual, begging the question, “Where are the rest of the bones?” Based on dentition, at least four individual deer (three adults and one fawn) have been determined for the site as a whole. This estimated minimum number of individuals (MNI) may be low, given the disaggregate loss of elements and loss due to sampling vagaries. In some cases, multiple individuals are indicated for a single area of the site. In the south construction area, for example, two deer are represented by two left upper ¤rst molars. As a whole, the deer bone sample indicates onsite butchery. All carcass parts are represented, but the sample is dominated by toe bones. Cannon bones are rare and fragmentary, and the durable ankle bones (astragalus and calcaneum) are all but absent. Also curious is the underrepresentation of ends of some long bones (for example, distal radius and humerus) that are normally found in well-preserved archaeological assemblages. These durable portions of bones usually survive even when boiled before being discarded. Bison provided the most meat by virtue of its great size (600 kg average live weight, adult both sexes). Nine individual bison are represented in this sample by nine left scapulae. Nearly all of these shoulder blades had been fashioned into tools customarily considered as hoes and part of a horticulturist’s tool kit (see “Bone Tools”). Minimum number of individuals (MNI) should not be estimated based on scapula tools, however, since these elements may have been curated as tools from previous (offsite) kills. Two sets of left foreleg bones (humeri and radiocubitus) are the only nonscapula elements upon which MNI can be determined. The bison sample
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is dominated by fragmentary ribs and vertebrae. Cannon bones and ankle bones (metapodials) are rare to absent, teeth fragments are scarce, and no horn cores were recovered. Like deer and turkey, this species is not represented by enough bones to sustain the number of occupants likely to have occupied a site as large as this. The dentition of a fawn aged about six months at death indicates a fall/winter occupation, but the abundance and variety of freshwater clams and turtles argues for spring/summer subsistence activities. Furthermore, migratory birds in the assemblage suggest spring or fall procurement. Based on this small sample, a year-round occupation or seasonal encampment is suggested. BONE TOOL S A full range of modi¤ed bone is represented in this sample (Table 6.2). Hide-working tools, such as grainers and awls, are found with horticultural implements such as scapula hoes and a vertebral spine digging tool. Other worked bone includes antler billets, fragments of a bone bracelet, a rasp or gaming piece, and a fragment possibly from a bone-handled knife (trade good?). Terms of function (awl, hoe, etc.) are used here for descriptive purposes only, as these tools may have served a variety of functions. Similar occurrences of these types of modi¤ed bone have been noted for Great Bend Aspect sites in south-central Kansas, the Henrietta Focus of northern Texas, and the Washita R iver Focus of Oklahoma (Wedel 1959:572–583). Of all of these specimens of worked bone, the modi¤ed bison scapulae are singularly important to the interpretation of this site. At least 16 of these tools were recovered, and dozens of ®at, highly polished fragments from untold others were recorded. Features 6, 61, and 31 yielded the most specimens, four tools each. The manufacture of these implements followed a distinctive pattern (see Figure A3.1): 1. Disarticulation and ¤lleting of remaining ®esh (cut marks on glenoid fossa and longitudinal cuts on blade). 2. Removal of spine and posterior border (whittle or chop marks down length of spine and border). 3. Preparation of hafting socket (charred and pecked-out depression at neck, extending through epiphysis). 4. Preparation of working edge (abrasion of proximal edge on the lateral side, forming a beveled surface). This fabrication pattern can be divided into two types, depending on the kind of tool used to remove the spine and posterior border. Of the 13 most complete hoes, four have distinctive marks caused by whittling (distal to proximal strokes) with a metal edge. The straight, ¤ne, V-shaped groove left by a metal knife, for instance, leaves a parallel tang or shelf of compact bone at the end of the stroke (Binford 1981:105). The metal whittling marks on the Lasley Vore scapulae from feature 6 are coarser than those that a metal knife would make, but they display marks characteristic of a metal ax. Two scapulae from nearby feature 61 and one from feature 31, some 25 meters south, show distinctive impact depressions forming a line down the inferior spine and irregular whittling marks of stone tool manufacture. Both types exhibit similar methods for hafting the blade to a handle. Figure A3.2 shows two possible handle designs. Both handles make use of the strong neck of the scapula to reinforce the hafting arm. These hoes are common to historic bison
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hunting groups of the Great Plains among the prehistoric Henrietta and Norteño Foci of Texas and Oklahoma (Lorrain 1967:216). CONCLUSION This assemblage of more than 1,000 identi¤ed vertebrates and mollusks gives a tantalizing glimpse into the subsistence activities of the site’s occupants. Species composition is consistent with late Caddoan and protohistoric Wichita practices in which bison and deer provided the most meat but smaller mammals, birds, reptiles, and ¤shes supplemented the meat diet. The importance of fur-bearing species such as beaver and bear is dif¤cult to assess from such a small sample, but their importance as trade items would be heightened with increased historical contact with Europeans. A ®eeting comparison of the Lasley Vore site with the mid-eighteenth-century Deer Creek site (34K A3) in Kay County, Oklahoma, brings to mind Mildred Wedel’s comment about the French/Wichita cooperative activities in procuring furs, hides, meat, and tallow for the Natchitoches settlement: “When the operation was ®ourishing, as many as 30 or so hunter-voyageurs may have been ascending annually to the Deer Creek region in order to hunt seasonally with the Indians and to direct the processing of the game there” (Wedel 1981:49). One major difference between these sites is that, at Deer Creek, Steen (1953:178) reported “great middens of bison bones”; the features at the Lasley Vore site contain many fragments of bison- and deer-size animals, but not enough to sustain a village of the dimensions the site encompasses. Dependence on a focal subsistence base, such as bison or deer exclusively, is not indicated here, although these two species undoubtedly provided the majority of meat and raw material for tools. The scapula tools from this site possibly show the transition from manufacture by means of stone tools to manufacture using metal implements obtained in trade with Europeans. The absence of meaty elements (that is, long bones) from the economically important species (bison, deer, bear, turkey), along with the abundance of waste elements (toes, teeth, unidenti¤able fragments) indicative of onsite butchery, suggest that the main refuse midden has not been relocated. Future investigations should concentrate on ¤nding this midden or determining the reason for the missing bones (for example, were bones disposed of in a nearby river?). Otherwise, only guarded interpretations can be made of the subsistence regime for this site. More important, assessments of the extent of commercial interaction between the native population and Europeans will remain limited.
Appendix 4 Ceramic Techniques Joe B. Thompson
PROTOHISTOR IC POT TERY T Y PES Four pottery types are important for the Lasley Vore assemblage: Cowley Plain, Deer Creek Simple-Stamped, Deer Creek Brushed, and Womack Engraved. These will be described ¤rst, as they will later be analyzed separately.
Cowley Plain This type was ¤rst de¤ned by Wedel (1959:359–361) for sites near Arkansas City, Kansas. It is shell-tempered, with a ¤ne-textured paste. Vessel forms include ovate and globular jars with ®at or rounded bases and deep bowls with round shoulders and bottoms. Appendages, if present, include handles or straps set above the shoulder but below the lip. Exterior surfaces are usually smoothed, while interiors exhibit an uneven surface ¤nish (Hawley and Haury 1994:34). R ims are typically out®aring or straight and unthickened, while lips are usually rounded, although ®attened forms have been reported (Scott 1994). Mohs’ hardness readings for this type vary from 2 to 4—that is, rather soft, and surface color varies between buff, brownish, and gray, while the color of the core is usually slate gray (Wedel 1959:359). Sudbury (1975) has proposed another type, Deer Creek Plain, for the Deer Creek site in Kay County, Oklahoma. The basic difference between this and Cowley Plain is the “higher incidence of strap handles, the tapering [of] strap handles, the lack of angular nodes, and the practice of attaching the handles to the lip on Deer creek site vessels” (Sudbury 1975:113). Although handle placement on Cowley Plain vessels is predominantly below the lip and above the shoulder, lip-attached handles are reported from the Larcom-Haggard site in Cowley County, Kansas (Wedel 1959:Figure 69) and the Bryson-Paddock site in Kay County, Oklahoma (Hartley and Miller 1977:62). Differentiation on the basis of handle placement is not considered suf¤ciently distinctive to warrant an entirely new type. Therefore, we are disregarding the Deer Creek Plain type and placing all pottery of this nature into the Cowley Plain type. I should note that the location of handles and a nonquanti¤ed estimation of greater temper density are also the features distinguishing Cowley Plain from Woodward Plain, a shell-tempered type associated with the late Prehistoric Neosho This appendix is abstracted from Thompson (1995), a master’s thesis completed for the Department of Anthropology, University of Tulsa. That document should be referred to for additional supporting information. Provenience data not contained in Thompson’s thesis have been added to this appendix.
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Focus and Fort Coffee Phase of eastern Oklahoma (Brown 1971:141–146; Freeman 1962; Freeman and Buck 1960; Hall 1951; Rohrbaugh 1982a:57, 1982b:415–420).
Deer Creek Simple Stamped This is a relatively rare, shell-tempered type reported from several sites in Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas (Hartley and Miller 1977; Rohn and Emerson 1984; Story et al. 1967; Sudbury 1975). The distinguishing attribute of this type is the presence of sur¤cial corrugations produced by pulling a wrapped paddle or ¤ngers across the moist (predominantly outside) surface of the vessel, usually perpendicular to the rim. General technological attributes appear similar to those of Cowley Plain, with interior and exterior colors varying from orange to tans, browns, grayish brown, and gray, while cores exhibit tan, brown, and gray hues; lips may be ®attened or rounded. Although few whole vessels have been reported, vessel form appears limited to jars. Handles are present on some vessels, and ®at basal sherds have been reported from the Deer Creek site.
Deer Creek Brushed The Deer Creek Brushed type was proposed by Hartley and Miller (1977:68) for shell-tempered ceramics having a brushed exterior surface treatment. An extensive collection was reported from the Deer Creek site, though considerably fewer were illustrated from Bryson-Paddock. A sand-tempered, Geneseo Brushed globular jar was recovered from the Paint Creek site in McPherson County, Kansas (Scott 1994:73,76), while exterior brushing was noted on shell-tempered sherds from the Gilbert site in Texas (Story et al. 1966). Brushing may be used with other forms of surface decoration, such as combing, incising, and simple stamping. A particularly clear example of this technique can be seen just under the rim of a partially restored curvilinear-incised vessel from the protohistoric Deshazo site in northern Texas (Fields 1995:Figures 60–63, 71). Technologically, Deer Creek Brushed resembles Cowley Plain, having a compact and homogeneous paste with a dark gray core. The interior surface is typically smoothed, with a dark grayish-brown color, and the exterior surface encompasses shades of brown and tan. Brushed vessels from Deer Creek have forms similar to plain ware ceramics, and the most common vessel form at that site was the ®atbottomed, globular jar (Sudbury 1975:Figure 36-13, 113).
Womack Engraved This type was ¤rst de¤ned for the late prehistoric Pearson site in northeast Texas (Duf¤eld and Jelks 1961:36–39). Tempering material consists of sand, sand and shell, sand and clay, or sand and bone. Vessels were occasionally burnished or treated with red slip. Most vessels are bowls with a disk-shaped base and a ®at-to-slightly rounded lip. The exterior is engraved rather than incised, and design elements are delimited by two horizontal engraved lines encircling the vessel. Designs of triangles or meandering scrolls are engraved within these lines. Womack Engraved sherds have been recovered from several protohistoric sites of northern Texas. A particularly interesting collection has been unearthed from the Gilbert site, also in northeast Texas. This extensive collection was classi¤ed into eight sherd groups representing a large variety of vessel types (Jelks 1966:114–124). The type is rare on sites north of Texas.
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A NA LY TICA L METHODS Potsherds from the Lasley Vore assemblage were initially divided into rims, decorated body sherds, and reconstructed vessels (undecorated body sherds were not employed in this analysis). These were used to separate objects into discrete ceramic types or, in the case of undesignated sherds, into less speci¤c ceramic classes. Analytical strategies for these divisions were subsequently geared toward producing a summary of the technological, morphological, and use-related characteristics of each ceramic type and class. Observations and measurements were assigned variable names (see Tables A4.1, A4.2), with the generated data recorded on coding sheets and entered into a computer ¤le for manipulation by the Statistical Package for the Social Sciences, SPSS (Norusis and SPSS 1990).
R ims Observations and measurements were made on all Lasley Vore rim sherds (see Table A4.1). In addition to provenience information, data on rim diameter, shape, orientation, lip shape, decoration, vessel form, and temper type were also recorded. A new measurement, the R im Sherd Index, or RSI, was also taken (cf. West 1982; Whalen 1993). To produce the RSI, two locations on the rim are measured for thickness. To standardize the general location at which these measurements are made, a premeasurement procedure was implemented. First, the rim sherd is oriented so that the lip is positioned away from the recorder. Second, the sherd is ®ipped so that the exterior surface faces upward. The measurements are then made at 2 mm and 15 mm below the lip on the right edge of the sherd. As Whalen (1993:478) notes, the RSI provides a “simple but effective method of measuring the extent of tapering or thickening of a vessel’s rim.” Although not previously measured on Plains ceramics, in the Southwest the RSI has been used in seriation studies to document diachronic changes within ceramic types.
Decorated Body Sherds The 27 observations and measurements recorded on all decorated body sherds (see Table A4.2) can be divided into ¤ve general categories. First, three variables (sherd provenience, cluster/area location, and artifact number) record spatial location. Second, color, texture, hardness, modi¤cation, and presence/absence of soot were recorded for interior and exterior surfaces. Third, paste and pro¤le characteristics, including wall and core thicknesses, core position and color, temper type and frequency, and paste texture were recorded. Wall thickness is de¤ned as the width of the vessel wall from exterior to interior surface, while core thickness is obtained by measuring the black or gray zone observed in the vessel wall. The two thickness values are used to compute the core width, which is expressed as the ratio of core thickness to wall thickness. Fourth, general vessel morphology, including the vessel part (for example, neck, shoulder) and form (for example, bowl, jar), was observed. Finally, a general description of decoration style was recorded. Colors were initially determined through use of the Munsell color system (Munsell Color Company 1975; R ice 1987:339). After initial recording, similar color values were grouped together and assigned a color group, summarized in Table A4.3. In addition to temper type identi¤cation, particle size range and frequency were also analyzed. These data, recorded by Harriet Peacher, were produced through a method developed by Whalen (1994:76). In this technique one edge of a sherd is
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ground ®at to provide a uniform surface and placed under a microscope set at 10× magni¤cation. An image of the sherd pro¤le is projected on a video monitor through a camera mounted on the microscope. This image is then overlaid by a 10 cm square point grid consisting of a 10 × 10 array of dots. Whenever a grid dot intersects a temper particle, the fragment’s maximum diameter is measured and the number of dots intersected is recorded. Three randomly selected locations on the pro¤le are examined, after which the particle size range and temper frequency for the sherd may be computed. In this project particle sizes are grouped into four classes: I (.1–.4 mm), II (.5–.8 mm), III (.9–1.2 mm), and IV (>1.2 mm). Their distribution is expressed as percentages. Temper frequency, computed as a ratio of temper to body, is calculated by summing the number of intersected grid points and dividing that score by 300, the maximum number of points that potentially could be intersected.
Whole Vessels The four partially reconstructed vessels from the Lasley Vore site were examined in detail for their technological and morphological characteristics. These results were not included in the rim or decorated body sherd data bases, but kept in a separate data ¤le.
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Use-Alteration Analysis The assemblage was also examined for evidence of use on the site, an issue that has generated a number of different approaches (R ice 1987:207–243, 1990). For this study a use-alteration approach was patterned after Hally (1983) and Skibo (1992). It involves recording the presence or absence of soot on the decorated sherds and examining reconstructed vessel and rim interiors for evidence of surface attrition such as striations and polish. The distribution of soot on the exterior surfaces was also studied, because it “may re®ect how vessels were positioned in relation to ¤re during use” (Hally 1983:12).
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GENER A L ASSEMBL AGE CH A R ACTER ISTICS
Overall Results The portion of the Lasley Vore pottery examined in this project encompasses 141 rims; 104 decorated neck, shoulder, and upper body sherds; and four partially reconstructed vessels. Except for those associated with the reconstructed vessels, no
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undecorated body sherds were examined. After the analysis was completed, the assemblage was divided into seven major classes, some of which represent identi¤able ceramic types. If a sherd could not be classi¤ed within the current typology, it was placed into an undesignated class. In some instances numerous sherds may be grouped together to form a general class of undesignated pottery. The present project has grouped the shell-tempered incised and punctated ceramics into two classes: Undesignated ShellTempered Incised (USTI) and Undesignated Shell-Tempered Punctated (USTP), instead of assigning decorated pottery to the Cowley Plain type, as is commonly done in the Lower Walnut typology. The primary reason for this departure is to study the intrasite distribution of the undecorated and decorated pottery within the Lasley Vore site area. Other undesignated pottery, typically represented by one or two sherds of several different kinds, is grouped into a “Miscellaneous Undesignated” class. Seventy-¤ve rims are too fragmentary to be identi¤ed with a particular pottery class or type and thus are not included in this classi¤catory scheme. No decoration or surface treatment, other than smoothing, was observed on these sherds. All unclassi¤ed rims are shell-tempered, although extensive leaching of the shell was noted on some specimens. Jars are the most common vessel form in the assemblage (66.5 percent), followed by bowls (11.2 percent); for 22.3 percent of the fragments, vessel form remains undetermined. The only reconstructed vessels are jars. The lack of bases or rims limits the estimation of volume for three of the vessels. Because of the lack of suitable specimens for volume estimation, an experiment will be conducted using linear regression on whole vessel data from several protohistoric sites from Kansas and northern Oklahoma in order to establish a function for estimating the volume of a jar using its rim diameter. This procedure will be explained later. When relative percentages are based solely on sherd count (that is, no reconstructed vessels are included), Cowley Plain, Undesignated Shell-Tempered Punctated (USTP), and Undesignated Shell-Tempered Incised (USTI) are the largest classes. When the sherds used to reconstruct the four vessels are taken into account, however, the distribution changes signi¤cantly (see Table 6.4). Cowley Plain now becomes the largest pottery class, encompassing almost a third of the assemblage. The USTI type, on the other hand, drops to 17.6 percent. Other notable increases occur in the Deer Creek Simple Stamped type and USTP class, each of which contains one vessel.
Intrasite Distribution of Sherds Table A4.4 presents the proportions of each of the ceramic classes in each of the feature clusters and areas. In general, ceramic types and classes are distributed throughout the areal extent of the site, but with notable concentrations in the South Construction Area (SCON), the West Strip Area (WAST), and feature clusters 2, 4, 5, and 7. A relatively small proportion of pottery (5.8 percent) comes from cluster 8, although this cluster contains almost 20 percent of the total features from the site. Table A4.5 presents the percentage calculations of the previous table the other way—that is, within each cluster or area. Figured this way, there is an irregular typological distribution of ceramics within the site, especially in clusters 2 and 4 and in the SCON and WAST areas. For example, no Cowley Plain sherds are identi¤ed in cluster 2, which is composed entirely of USTP, USTI, and Womack Engraved sherds. Conversely, in cluster 4 Cowley Plain predominates, followed by USTI, while Womack Engraved and USTP are minor components of the cluster. A similar pattern
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is seen in cluster 7, although Deer Creek Brushed replaces Womack Engraved as a minor component. In the SCON and WAST areas, USTI and USTP predominate, whereas Cowley Plain is a relatively minor component. The intercluster distribution of types was analyzed through the chi-square statistic and Fisher’s Exact Test. If the expected frequency in a cell of a contingency table was less than 5, then Fisher’s Exact Test was used instead of chi-square (Thomas 1986:298). Because some classes and types had only a few examples, only Cowley Plain and USTI and USTP categories, the largest ceramic groups, could be used in the tests. Similarly, only SCON, WAST, and clusters 2, 4, 5, 7, and 8 were tested. To use Fisher’s Exact Test, 2 × 2 contingency tables are necessary. Thus the USTI and USTP units were grouped together and compared with the Cowley Plain counts. Rejection of the null hypothesis was set at .05. For each possible bivariate combination of clusters and areas, the distribution of decorated and undecorated shelltempered ceramics was tested, and is presented in Table A4.6. Ten tests yielded statistically signi¤cant results, with a notable concentration of the rejected null hypotheses in the cluster 2, SCON, and WAST tests. The level of rejection in cluster 2 is caused by the lack of Cowley Plain sherds in these features. The frequent rejection of the null hypothesis in tests that concern the SCON and WAST areas can be accounted for by the relatively large number of decorated sherds there.
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Whole Vessel Distribution A notable consolidation of ceramic types occurs when the reconstructed vessels are taken into account. In fact, cluster 4, where four reconstructable vessels were found in two features, becomes the dominant locus of pottery at the Lasley Vore site. From feature 73, a basin-shaped pit, three partially reconstructable jars were recovered. Two of the vessels are identi¤ed as Cowley Plain, while the third is a Deer Creek Simple Stamped jar. Six meters east of feature 73 was feature 64, another shallow, basin-shaped pit that held the fragments of a shell-tempered jar. Although not de¤nitively typed, the ¤ngernail crimping on the vessel’s neck and rim resembles decorative patterns and techniques found on Braden Punctate, a late prehistoric type in eastern Oklahoma (Brown 1971:153), and Nash Neck Banded, a protohistoric to early historic type from the Red R iver region (Suhm and Jelks 1962:111). T Y PE A ND CL ASS DESCR IP TIONS
Cowley Plain Cowley Plain is represented at the Lasley Vore site by two partially reconstructed vessels from feature 73 (CP-1 and CP-2) and 38 rim sherds recovered from various
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locations within the site. Cowley Plain body sherds are undoubtedly present in the assemblage but are indistinguishable from similar sherds from decorated vessels. The Cowley Plain pottery from this site exhibits a medium- to coarse-textured paste, tempered with shell. Centrally positioned cores were observed on both vessels, with an average width of 0.70 mm measured on CP-1 and 0.67 mm on CP-2. Core colors vary from gray to dark gray (Color Groups, or CG, of 9, 11). Temper studies conducted on CP-1 and CP-2 revealed densities of 13.5 percent and 18.0 percent respectively. In addition to the size range summarized in Table A4.7, temper particles having diameters in excess of 6 mm were also observed on the surfaces of the vessels. The interior surfaces of both vessels are scraped, with surface texture observed as medium. Interior luster is generally low, and a Mohs’ hardness of 4 was recorded on each vessel. Color values for the jars are variable, generally ranging from reddishyellows to browns (CG 2, 9). The exterior surfaces of both vessels are smoothed, with medium texture. Exterior hardness is 4, with luster observed to be low. Sootcovered areas have a black hue, while the rest of the surface colors vary between reddish-yellows, browns, and brownish-yellows (CG 10, 9, 17). Vessel CP-1 is a ®at-based, conical-shaped jar with strap handles set at the lip (see Figure A4.1). The strap tapers from 4.8 cm near the lip to 2.8cm, where it attaches
Fig. A4.1. Pro¤le of jar CP-1.
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Fig. A4.2. Pro¤le of jar CP-2.
to the upper part of the shoulder. The rim is slightly thickened (RSI = 1.17) and out®aring, and has a diameter of 18 cm. The vessel lip is ®at. Wall thicknesses of 5.3 mm on the rim, 10.6 mm on the shoulder, and 8.7 mm on the base were recorded. The body wall generally varies between 6 mm and 9 mm in thickness, and vessel size is estimated at 6.4 liters. CP-2 consists of the upper portion of a globular-shaped jar with no appendages (see Figure A4.2). The rim is out®aring and has a tapered shape (RSI = 0.81), rounded lip, and diameter of 30 cm. A rounded base was found in the same feature (73) and exhibits similar sur¤cial colors and interior surface treatment but could not be conjoined with the body, so no volume could be estimated for this vessel. Wall thickness varies from 5.1 mm near the lip to 10.9 mm on the shoulder. The body wall varies between 4 mm and 9 mm in thickness, while the probable base is 9.4 mm thick. The balance of the identi¤ed Cowley Plain pottery consists of 38 rim sherds, of
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Fig. A4.3. Cowley Plain rim pro¤les. Middle right is from a bowl; all others are from jars.
which several are pro¤led in Figures A4.3 and A4.4. As shown in Table A4.8, almost all the rims are from jars, the sole identi¤able exception being an 8cm diameter specimen from a bowl. The bowl has a sharply inverted, tapered (RSI=0.68) rim and a rounded lip (see Figure A4.3, right middle). The jars also have rounded lips and outward rim orientations. Tapering (mean RSI = 0.87; SD = 0.16; n = 34) is the most common shape, observed on 79.4 percent of the Cowley Plain jar rims. R im diameters range from 10 cm to 34 cm, with a mean of 17.9 cm (SD = 6.87; n = 33). Typical handle and node shapes are illustrated in Figure A4.5.
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Fig. A4.4. Cowley Plain rim pro¤les.
The rims were inspected for evidence of surface attrition, while the two reconstructed vessels, in addition to use-attrition, were also examined for the presence and location of soot. Although no evidence of use-wear was observed on the rims or vessels, the exterior soot patterns did suggest how the jars were positioned during use. Exterior sooting was observed on a portion of the reconstructed body of vessel CP-1, especially near the shoulder. Except for a small area near the point where it joins the body, no soot was observed on the base. Soot is also present on the middle to upper portions of CP-2, but absent on the interior and probable base. The presence of exterior sooting suggests that CP-1 and CP-2 were used as cooking pots. In addition, the location of the soot on the upper body and shoulders, and its absence on the vessels’ bases, further suggest that the vessels were placed directly into the ¤re and not suspended above it (cf. Hally 1983:10; Skibo 1992:152–157).
Fig. A4.5. Pro¤les of typical handle and node shapes.
Fig. A4.6. Deer Creek Simple Stamped rim pro¤le.
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Fig. A4.7 Top left: small Cowley Plain jar fragment; bottom left: ¤nger-crimped punctate rim; right: conjoined pieces of Deer Creek Simple Stamped jar.
Deer Creek Simple Stamped Except for a single body sherd from feature 30, all Deer Creek Simple Stamped sherds come from feature 73. A portion of these sherds have been conjoined to form a partially reconstructed jar, referred to here as DCSS-1 (see Figure A4.6; on right in Figure A4.7). The nonconjoined sherds closely resemble those of the vessel and are presumed to have been a part of it. The paste texture of DCSS-1 is coarse, although areas of medium texture were observed on a portion of the body that has a relatively thin (3–4 mm) wall thickness. Shell has been added to the paste and comprises approximately 26 percent of the body in a size distribution provided in Table A4.9. A gray-colored (CG 9), centerpositioned core with a mean width of 0.80 was observed on the body wall pro¤le. The interior surface of DCSS-1 has a Mohs’ hardness value of 3, medium texture, and an overall low luster. Interior color ranges between strong brown to reddishyellow (CG 10), with portions of the surface exhibiting a somewhat darker brown color. Although the interior surface has been smoothed, portions of it are irregularly treated and numerous ¤nger trails having been observed. The exterior surface is almost completely covered by stamping, with the exception of a 2 cm wide zone running parallel to the lip (similar to rims from the type site: Sudbury 1975:113). The vessel exterior has a low luster, medium surface texture, and Mohs’ hardness of 4. Very dark gray (CG 11) sooting and ¤re clouds are present over a portion of the exterior, while the rest of the vessel has a general reddish-yellow (CG 2) color.
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Fig. A4.8. Linear incised sherds (USTI). Sherd on bottom right is Womack Engraved.
Vessel DCSS-1 is a globular-shaped jar with an 18 cm ori¤ce diameter. The vessel’s rim is direct and thickened (RSI = 1.71), and has a generally ®at lip, although an uneven forming technique lends a more rounded shape to portions of it (see Figure A4.7). Because the full height of the jar could not be measured, no volume estimation was made for DCSS-1. Wall thicknesses of 7.6 mm were measured on the rim, 8.2 mm on the shoulder, and 3.2 mm on portions of the body. Basal thickness varies from 3.5 mm to 4.8 mm. Contrary to examples from the Deer Creek site (Sudbury 1975:113), the Simple Stamped vessel from Lasley Vore does not have handles. Also, the Deer Creek bases are ®at, whereas that of DCSS-1 may be rounded. The presence of soot on the exterior surface suggests that DCSS-1 was used as a cooking pot. Similar to the Cowley Plain vessels, the soot is concentrated on the shoulder and upper body and is absent on the base, suggesting that the container was placed directly in the ¤re. Laminar spalling observed on the lower body indicates
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that vessel failure was the result of thermal shock (Rye 1981:Figure 91; cf. R ice 1987:365).
Deer Creek Brushed One rim and three body sherds from the Lasley Vore site were identi¤ed as Deer Creek Brushed. Two of the body sherds were found in the South Construction Area, while a single rim and body sherd were recovered from feature 16. Paste, core, and temper data are summarized for the three body sherds in Table A4.10, temper size distribution in Table A4.11. Temper density appears variable,
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Fig. A4.9. Body sherd at the shoulder of an intricately incised bowl or jar.
though small sample size limits its usefulness. Sur¤cial data, enumerated in Table A4.12, also exhibit considerable variability. All Deer Creek Brushed sherds are from jars, though the small size of the fragments makes further re¤nement of vessel form impossible. The rim is tapered (RSI = 0.77), outward oriented, and has a rounded lip, though it is too small to allow rim diameter estimation or pro¤le orientation. The relatively short height of the neck, however, suggests that it may have come from a small jar. The mean wall thickness of the body sherds is 8.6 mm. No soot or evidence of surface attrition through use was observed on sherds of this type.
Womack Engraved The Womack Engraved type is represented at Lasley Vore by one rim and ¤ve body sherds recovered from features 68 and 72, and Test Pits 1 and 10. Four general decorative motifs incorporating a combination of straight lines, cross-hatching, curvilinear styles, and/or tick marks have been identi¤ed on Womack Engraved vessels (Story et al. 1966:113–115). The rim sherd has two parallel lines, spaced 6 mm apart, on the exterior surface. The uppermost line is located 4.5 mm below the lip and is the more deeply incised. The ¤ve body sherds have 1–3 parallel lines and/or crosshatching on the exterior surface, as exempli¤ed by the fragment on the lower right of Figure A4.8, although two sherds also have a curvilinear pattern. Each sherd exhibits regularly spaced tick marks etched on one line. The association of line ticks with cross-hatching is characteristic of Womack Engraved designs A and D (Story et al. 1966:113; cf. Duf¤eld and Jelks 1961:36–39), though the small size of the sherds precludes further re¤nement of design. Since it is dif¤cult to differentiate between leatherhard and post¤red incising, no application stage has been inferred for the Lasley Vore sherds. Womack Engraved body sherds have a ¤ne paste texture and are tempered with
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sand, with a mean temper density of 15 percent (see Table A4.13). Cores are present on 80 percent of the sherds, with center and interior positions observed on two sherds apiece. Core colors are typically very dark grays (CG 11, 18). Interior surfaces are smoothed on three sherds, lightly burnished on two others. Fine texture and medium luster were observed on three sherds, medium texture and low luster on the other two. Mohs’ hardness values of 5 and 4 were recorded on 80 percent and 20 percent of the sherds, respectively. On 80 percent of the sherds, dark and strong browns were recorded (CG 11, 18); the other sherd is dark reddishbrown (CG 1). The exterior surfaces of three of the sherds are smoothed, while the other two are lightly burnished. Surface texture is generally ¤ne to medium. Mohs’ hardness values range from 3 to 5, with a value of 4 measured on four sherds. Exterior luster is typically low, a quality observed on 80 percent of the body sherds. The most common exterior colors are dark to strong browns (CG 11, 12, 16, 18), though dark reddish-brown hues (CG 1) were observed on 40 percent. One Womack Engraved rim was identi¤ed in the assemblage. It is tapered (RSI = 0.74), has a ®at lip, and exhibits light interior burnishing, though it is too small to allow ori¤ce diameter estimation or pro¤le orientation. Wall thicknesses can be divided into two discrete groups: (1) one rim and two body sherds with mean thickness of 6.5 mm; (2) three body sherds with mean thickness of 3.9 mm, also different in color, being dark brown and dark reddish-brown. These sherds probably represent two, and possibly three, vessels. Based on Womack Engraved vessels on other sites, they were probably bowls. No soot or evidence of use-related surface attrition was noted, an observation consistent with similar observations of this pottery at the type site in Texas, where it was probably used for storage rather than for cooking (Harris et al. 1965:302–303). On the other hand, some Womack Engraved vessels with burned interiors were recovered from the Moore site in eastern Oklahoma (Rohrbaugh 1982a:60), suggesting a special function.
Undesignated Shell-Tempered Incised (USTI) This class encompasses 16 rim and 64 body sherds exhibiting either moist-paste or leatherhard incising on their exterior surfaces. Of the non-rim sherds, 20.3 percent are positioned on the neck, 1.6 percent on the shoulder, and 78.1 percent on the body. Based on examples from the Lower Walnut Focus assemblage, it is probable that most of the incised body sherds come from the upper portions of vessels. All incised decorations were applied to the exterior surface and are generally linear. About 63 percent appear to have been incised at the leatherhard stage of construction, the rest at the moist-paste stage. The most common decorative patterns are chevronlike decorations that begin 5–10 mm below the lip and extend to the
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neck or shoulder. These markings are usually positioned perpendicular to the lip and, when placed parallel to one another, form a general zigzag pattern over the exterior surface. The typical bowl decoration pattern consists of one or two incised lines located parallel to the lip and about 5 mm below it. Additional parallel lines extending diagonally from the lip or lines cross the body of the bowl. On one specimen these lines extend to where the base joins the vessel body and apparently form a chevronlike pattern across the bowl body. Jars exhibit a larger range of variation. They include chevron designs along the neck, a row of inverted Vs on the shoulder, zoned parallel lines, and paired zigzag lines running parallel to a rim containing smaller zigzag lines (see Figure A4.8, top left). Several examples of curvilinear decorations also exist in the assemblage (see Figure A4.8, top right). The most intricate of these, located on the shoulder of a jar or bowl, is illustrated in Figure A4.9. Paste texture of USTI pottery is predominantly medium (65.6 percent) or ¤ne (25 percent). Shell tempering comprises 21.3 percent of the body (SD = 7.0, n = 58); temper size distribution is summarized in Table A4.14. Cores were observed on 90.6 percent of the body sherds, with center (45.3 percent) and interior surface (31.3 percent) locations the most common positions. Mean core width is 0.75 mm (SD = .15; n = 56), and color is typically gray (CG 3, 9) or dark gray (CG 5, 11). The interior surfaces of the USTI body sherds are predominantly smoothed (87.5 percent), less frequently burnished (10.9 percent); the most common textures are medium (75 percent) and ¤ne (23.4 percent). Interior luster ranges from low (78.1 percent) to medium (21.9 percent). Mohs’ hardness values of 3 and 4 were registered on 81.3 percent and 17.2 percent of the body sherds, respectively. Interior colors commonly range from grays and brown to reddish- and yellowish-brown values. Almost all exterior surfaces are smoothed (95.3 percent), with burnishing recorded as a minor treatment. Texture is predominantly medium (71.9 percent) or ¤ne (23.4 percent), while low luster was observed on 89.1 percent of body sherds. An exterior Mohs’ hardness value of 3 was recorded on 79.7 percent of the sherds. The exterior surface exhibits variable colors, although grays, browns, and yellowishreds are the most common. Jars are the most common vessel form in the USTI class (see Table A4.15; Figure A4.10). The typical shell-tempered, incised jar has an out®aring, tapered rim (RSI = 0.79; SD = 0.13; n = 10), and a rounded lip. Only two rims, both with out®aring forms, are large enough to allow ori¤ce diameter estimation of 12 cm and 34 cm respectively. A mean wall thickness of 6.9 mm (SD = 1.51; n = 51) has been
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computed on the jar body sherds; because of the lack of suitable specimens, however, no volume estimations could be made. Shell-tempered, incised bowls generally have rounded lips and tapered rims (RSI = 0.84; SD = 0.73; n = 5). R im orientation is split between direct (40 percent) and inverted (20 percent) forms (see Table A4.16; Figure A4.10), though a signi¤cant proportion of the rims are too small to allow pro¤le orientation or rim diameter estimation; however, sizes of 13 cm and 15 cm were recorded on two rims. Wall thicknesses on the bowls range from 3.7 mm to 5.8 mm, with a mean of 4.9 mm (SD = 0.87, n = 5). Although no sherds were of suf¤cient size to estimate vessel volume, it would appear that the bowls generally have shallower form than that reported by Wedel (1959:361, Figure 69) for the Lower Walnut Focus. Exterior sooting was observed on 7.8 percent of the body sherds, although the utility of using its presence or absence to infer vessel use is limited by the fact that the analyzed sherds represent the upper portions of vessels. One large jar rim/neck fragment exhibits possible interior surface wear. Running parallel to the lip and located on the neck interior where the vessel ori¤ce is constricted is a zone of light polishing and striations. This vessel also has soot on the exterior surface, suggesting that it was placed in a ¤re. It appears that we have here a cooking pot in which the contents were stirred.
Undesignated Shell-Tempered Punctated (USTP) This class includes one partially reconstructed vessel, 10 rims, and 25 body sherds. Of the latter group, 52 percent are neck sherds. Based on examples from the Lower Walnut Focus, it is probable that most or all punctated designs occur on the upper portions of these vessels. Punctates are present only on the exterior surfaces in the Lasley Vore collection and only involve jars. Punctation was applied during the moistpaste stage of vessel construction, corroborated by the observation of several ¤ngerprints on ¤ngernail-crimped sherds. Punctation was applied by the ¤ngernail and by a stylus. Fingernail punctating was applied only to jars. One method was to push the nail into moist clay at an oblique angle, producing scallop-like indentations like those on the lower left rim sherd in Figure A4.7 or on the neck of the large conjoined jar (see Figure 6.2). The dominant pattern was to produce rows of punctates parallel to the vessel lip; one vessel has three rows of punctates. In the second method, the clay is pinched between the thumb and index ¤nger after the nail is pushed into the vessel surface. When
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Fig. A4.10. R im pro¤les of USTI jars and bowls. Except for a and b, all pro¤les are from jars.
applied linearly across the surface, a ripplelike pattern is formed. The reconstructed vessel (see Figure 6.2) possesses ¤ve rows of punctates parallel to the lip. Smoothing of the punctates was rarely observed in the sample but was noted on one rim and one neck sherd. Oblique angle punctation by pushing the sharp point of a stylus into the moist surface of the vessel, producing a wedge-shaped punctate, was observed on 32 per-
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cent of the body and 20 percent of the rim sherds of this type. The typical decorative pattern consists of parallel rows of punctates applied to the rim and/or neck; it was applied exclusively to jars. One body sherd displays tubular punctates over its exterior surface, probably produced by a hollow reed. Punctated vessels of this period in other regions are not very common. In the Kansas typology this type does not exist; such sherds remain untyped or are subsumed under the type Cowley Plain (Hawley and Haury 1994:25; Scott 1994:71, Table 3; Wedel 1959:360). Punctated sherds typically have medium texture (72 percent), though coarse (16 percent) and ¤ne (12 percent) values are also present. Mean temper density is 19.3 percent (SD = 5.0; n = 23); the size distribution of temper particles is summarized in Table A4.17. Cores were observed on 92 percent of the body sherds, the majority of which are located either at the center (47.8 percent) or near the interior surface (43.5 percent) of the pro¤le. Mean core width is 0.78 (SD = 0.11; n = 23). The most common colors are dark to very dark grays (CG 11), observed on 60.9 percent of the sherds; the remainder are black and gray hues (CG 9, 13). Almost all interior body sherd surfaces are smoothed (92 percent), with burnishing (4 percent) and scraping (4 percent) observed as minor treatments. Surface texture is typically medium (52.8 percent) or ¤ne (40 percent). Low luster was observed on 80 percent of the sherds, and a Mohs’ hardness value of 3 was recorded on 92 per-
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cent of the body sherds. The interior surface commonly has a brown to reddish- and yellowish-brown color, with a few sherds exhibiting reddish-yellow or gray hues. All punctated sherds have smoothed exteriors and a low surface luster. Ninety-six percent of these fragments have medium texture and a hardness value of 3. Exterior colors are variable but generally of gray, brown, yellow, and red hues. Only jars were identi¤able in this sample. Based on the rims and reconstructed vessel, the typical jar has an outward ®aring, tapered rim (RSI = 0.80; SD = 0.08; n = 10) and a ®attened or rounded lip (Table A4.18; Figure A4.11). Although no handles or straps were observed on the rims, one specimen did have an exterior node near the lip. The three rims of suf¤cient size yielded vessel diameter estimates of 17 cm, 18 cm, and 24 cm, while the reconstructed vessel has a diameter of 34 cm (also, see Table A4.19). The general shape of the reconstructed vessel is globular (see Figure 6.2), but the lack of a base precludes knowing its shape or the vessel’s volume. Body sherd wall thickness varies from 5.0 mm to 9.9 mm, with a mean of 6.9 mm (SD = 1.53; n = 25). Exterior soot is present on 19 percent of the body sherds, while 14.3 percent exhibit interior soot. Soot was observed near the shoulder of the reconstructed vessel, suggesting use as a cooking pot. The lack of handles indicates that it was probably placed directly into the ¤re. A 2 cm wide zone of light polish and striations was observed on the interior surface of a sharply curving jar neck sherd. Oriented parallel to the opening, the striations were probably produced by stirring the contents of the jar.
Miscellaneous Undesignated Pottery Undesignated Bone/Sand-Tempered, Oblique Punctated A single bone and sand-tempered sherd from the neck of a jar was recovered from the West Construction Area. Three oblique punctates, aligned in one row, were observed near one broken edge. Paste texture was medium, with approximately 10 percent of the body composed of temper particles. Wall thickness was 5.8 mm, and no core was visible. Sur¤cial data for the sherd are summarized in Table A4.20. Bone- and sand-tempering has not been reported from protohistoric sites in Kansas or northern Oklahoma, although Hartley and Miller (1977:60) note that bone inclusions were occasionally present in some of the Cowley Plain pottery at the Bryson-Paddock site. At the Gilbert site in northern Texas, sand and bone tempering was observed on Emory Punctate vessels (Story et al. 1966:137). Undesignated Curvilinear-Incised One specimen, recovered from feature 42, exhibits curvilinear incising on the exterior surface. Fine sand was observed in the pro¤le (density = 9 percent), but it is
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Fig. A4.11. USTP jar rim pro¤les.
uncertain whether or not it was intentionally added to the body. No other inclusions were observed in the ¤ne-textured and compact paste and no core was recognized; wall thickness is 5.9 mm. Vessel form identi¤cation is problematic, though the sharp curvature of the sherd and presence of a burnished interior surface suggest that the sherd is from a bowl. Surface data are summarized in Table A4.21. No ceramics resembling this sherd have been reported from protohistoric sites in Kansas or northern Oklahoma, though curvilinear designs such as Crockett Curvilinear Incised and Spiro Engraved have been noted on Fort Coffee Phase pottery
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(Rohrbaugh 1982b:464, 485). The closest comparison is with Crockett Curvilinear Incised. Undesignated Sand-Tempered, Fingernail-Punctated Two sand-tempered sherds have ¤ngernail-crimped punctation on the exterior surface. Recovered from the West Construction Area and feature 41, both sherds have burnished interior surfaces, no cores visible in the wall pro¤le, and a ¤ne paste texture. Sherd FEA41-4 is 6.4 mm thick and has a temper density of 16 percent, while sherd WAST-61 is 5.6 mm thick and has a temper density of 8 percent. The curvature of the sherds indicates that they are probably from jar necks. Additional surface data are summarized in Table A4.22. Sand-tempered pottery with ¤ngernail crimping decoration has been reported
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from Little R iver Focus sites in central Kansas. Furthermore, Wedel noted that this decoration, if present, usually occurs near the rim or on the neck of Geneseo Plain and Geneseo Simple Stamped jars (Scott 1994:71; Wedel 1959:235–241). Undesignated Sand-Tempered, Linear-Incised A body sherd (MISF-18) recovered from the surface of the site has an incised chevronlike design on the exterior surface. Fine sand has been added to the ¤netextured paste and comprises 13 percent of the body. A core with a width of 0.91 mm and very dark gray in color (CG 11) is located in the center of the wall pro¤le. The curvature of the sherd and relative thinness of the wall (3.5 mm) suggest that it is from the body of a bowl. Additional data are in Table A4.23. No specimens resembling this sherd have been reported from protohistoric sites in northern Oklahoma or Kansas, though linear incising is present in the shelltempered Neosho Punctate type (Freeman 1962:5). Undesignated Calcite-Tempered, Oblique Punctated One neck fragment from a jar (FEA 21-4), tempered with crushed calcite, has a single row of oblique punctates on its exterior surface. Paste texture is coarse, with a temper density of about 27 percent. An exterior-positioned core has a width of 0.84 and a dark gray color (CG 5). The interior, though smoothed, also has a light polish over a portion of its surface. This could be burnishing, though more likely it is some sort of use-wear. The sherd resembles Emory Punctate (Rohrbaugh 1982b: 469; Story et al. 1966:137), but its small size prevents a de¤nite type assignment. Additional surface data are presented in Table A4.24.
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V ESSEL VOLUME ESTIM ATION A ND INTER SITE COMPAR ISONS
Volumes of Cowley Plain Jars The estimation of vessel volume for the Lasley Vore assemblage by conventional means is limited to one reconstructed jar. Because the range of vessel capacity on the site cannot be obtained through whole or partially restored vessels, it was decided to employ linear regression techniques (Thomas 1986:345–351). Background information and a fuller explanation of the results described here can be found in Thompson (1995:chapter 5). Previous studies in estimating volume from sherds (for example, Fitting and Halsey 1966) have found an association between rim diameter and capacity in globularshaped vessels. Thus a study was conducted to determine whether or not a similar correlation exists in protohistoric jars from Oklahoma and south-central Kansas. The assumption is made that the relationship between rim diameter and vessel volume is regular within these jars, regardless of overall vessel size (cf. Nelson 1985:313). The regression equation was generated through a study of 18 protohistoric jars from Kansas (Scott 1994), Ponca City, Oklahoma (see also Sudbury 1982), and the one largely reconstructable Lasley Vore pot. Data points show a 0.89 correlation with the regression line and a 2-tailed signi¤cance of <.00001, indicating strong correlation between the two variables. The regression equation generated from this study was applied to 30 Cowley Plain rim sherds from the Lasley Vore site. The rim diameters used in the regression analysis range from 10 cm to 25 cm, with a mean of 16.8 (SD = 4.36; n = 18). Volumes indicated from the regression analysis range from 0.9 to 18.4 liters, with a mean of 6.52 liters (SD = 4.81). As illustrated in the histogram in Figure A4.12, the most common Cowley Plain vessel at the Lasley Vore site has a capacity between 2 and 7 liters. Large vessels are not well represented, with only ¤ve specimens showing a volume greater than 10 liters. Although the rim diameter/volume correlation is signi¤cant within the range tested, extrapolation to larger or smaller vessels would be useless. Within this range, though, three size classes of Cowley Plain pottery are represented at the Lasley Vore site. The most common encompasses 22 vessels with volumes less than 7 liters. The second group is composed of ¤ve vessels between 7 and 11.5 liters, and the third comprises four large Cowley Plain jars with volumes greater than 11.5 liters.
Intersite Comparisons Thompson (1995:chapter 5) compared the Cowley Plain jar rims from Lasley Vore to those of the Deer Creek (n = 16) and Bryson-Paddock (n = 24) sites, near Ponca
Fig. A4.12. Histogram of Lasley Vore Cowley Plain vessel volumes.
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City, using bivariate chi-square, Student’s t, and F-tests. The results will be reported here, but for background and details the reader is urged to consult Thompson’s monograph. R im orientation on all three sites is predominantly out®aring; no signi¤cant (to a .05 level) differences between sherd groups were recorded on this variable. Lip shape at Lasley Vore is mostly rounded (52.1 percent) or ®attened (38.4 percent), characteristics that are not signi¤cantly different from Cowley Plain jars at the other two sites. In addition, the rim diameters at Deer Creek (16.8 cm), Bryson-Paddock (19.1 cm) and Lasley Vore (18.3 cm) do not signi¤cantly diverge from one another. Vessel volume estimates were computed for the Ponca City sites as they were for Lasley Vore. Deer Creek jars exhibit two nodes separated at about 8 liters, similar to the lower cutoff in Lasley Vore volumes. Bryson-Paddock jar volumes are higher than for the other two sites and are also bimodally distributed, with midpoints at about 5.5 and 8.0. The F-statistic, which tests the hypothesis that the variances of two normally distributed samples are equal, shows a signi¤cant difference, at the .05 level, between Lasley Vore and Bryson-Paddock, but not for either of the other two comparisons. This result suggests that vessel capacities at Lasley Vore are more variable
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than those at Bryson-Paddock, but not more variable than those at Deer Creek. Capacity estimates from the three sites were also subjected to Student’s t-tests, but no signi¤cant differences were obtained. The only variable that exhibits consistently signi¤cant differences is the R im Sherd Index (RSI). Bivariate Student’s t-tests show almost no difference at all between Deer Creek and Bryson-Paddock, but signi¤cant differences between each of these sites and Lasley Vore. R ims at the Ponca City sites exhibit a greater degree of thickening near the lip than rims from Lasley Vore. What this difference means is a matter of conjecture. While the difference may be stylistic, it has a potentially high functional component, because the mouth of a vessel is subject to considerable movement in reaching the contents of the jar (R ice 1987:241; Shepard 1976:247); therefore, jar rims may have simply been strengthened in those cases in which substantial movement around the jar rim was anticipated. Aside from the ambiguous differences in rim thickening, rim attributes and estimated vessel capacity exhibit consistent similarities among the three sites tested. This constitutes positive evidence for general contemporaneity and a strong cultural identity between Lasley Vore and the other two known Wichita sites, which were probably occupied by the Taovayas.
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GLOBA L PROV ENIENCE DATA Frequencies in the ceramic data set that Thompson analyzed do not coincide exactly with the numbers of sherds originally taken out of the ground and inventorized, as several were re¤tted, earlier analyses by Peacher and Shingleton were conducted, and a few sherds were probably misplaced over the years. The quantity of plain, incised, and punctate sherds recovered from the excavation and originally recorded on inventory forms is summarized in Table 6.3. Table A4.25 provides detail, showing the number of plain, incised, and punctate-decorated sherds discovered in the various individual excavation units. Those sherds recovered from features have been separated and listed by feature type in Tables A4.26 and A4.27. These are not the same as Thompson’s categories, but they provide a general impression of the types of features in which the main decorative styles were found.
Appendix 5 Lithic Analysis George H. Odell
This analysis seeks answers to two general kinds of questions: What were people doing on the site as a whole? and Into what kinds of activity nodes was the site structured? The ¤rst question assumes that this was a single-occupation site, for which there exists good supporting evidence, and introduces the general question of what kind of site it was. That is, in which general socioeconomic activities did its occupants engage, and how did these occupants articulate with their natural and social environments? The second type of question, concerning spatial structuring and activity nodes, is possible to address only because the Lasley Vore site exhibits obvious spatial structuring of pit and hearth features into 10 discrete aggregates. Of concern is what these aggregates represent—ethnic groups/family units, activity areas, or fortuitously clustered facilities with no further social or economic meaning. As Shingleton found out with his analysis of pottery clays, only ¤ve of these clusters are large enough with respect either to features or total lithic artifacts to provide statistically valid comparative data. These are clusters 2, 4, 5, 7, and 8, which are located most centrally with regard to the occupation and which constitute about 80 percent of the securely provenienced stone tools from the site. These clusters will form the principal data set for the detailed analyses to follow. Since these are the same feature clusters that Shingleton used in his pottery analysis, the lithic data should offer an interesting comparison. THE ENTIR E LITHIC ASSEMBL AGE
Methodology The ¤rst major research question concerns the type of site this was—that is, its primary purpose. In attempting to answer this question, I will ¤rst introduce the entire data set, combining tools excavated from features, test pits, and midden areas. The relationships of objects from midden contexts to their original location of deposition is not certain, as use of the land over the years for agriculture, pasture, and dairying has undoubtedly disturbed these surface deposits, though it is dif¤cult to tell how much. Because of these uncertainties, assessment of the entire collection will be limited to an inventory of typo-technological categories. More detailed analyses have been performed only on material in good context—that is, from the ¤ve most abundant feature clusters mentioned previously. The inventory of the entire lithic collection is based on an initial separation into two entities: type collection and debitage. The type collection (TC) consists of ma-
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terial classi¤ed into speci¤c types for purposes of analysis. It includes all chipped stone that has been secondarily modi¤ed by retouch, and all nonchipped stone (termed rough stone or ground stone) that has been recognizably altered through manufacture or use, as with a pecked celt, grinding stone, or hammer. Unfortunately, types have traditionally been imbued with functionally charged names that have come to us through centuries of antiquarianism and exploration. In some cases these names are accurate, but in others they are not (see Odell 1981b; Wylie 1975). I have retained them in this study for purposes of communication. Since a major portion of this analysis will involve inspecting the speci¤c results of tool utilization, it is prudent to let the typology deal with tool shapes and formal descriptions and leave functional interpretations to the use-wear analysis. The system of classi¤cation used here is the same as that employed for artifacts from west-central Illinois, de¤nitions for which can be found in Odell (1996b). Nonretouched chipped stone has been categorized as “debitage” or “debris”—for the purposes of this analysis, the same entity. The debitage was inventoried by supervised excavators immediately following the completion of excavation and was divided into ®akes with or without remnants of cortex on the dorsal surface. Results of these tabulations are recorded in the overall distribution of debris by excavation or survey unit. Detailed analyses will be performed on subsets of the debris that occur in good context.
Inventory Lithic types recovered from the entire Lasley Vore site are listed in Table A5.1. More than 90 percent of the assemblage is chipped stone, while ¤ve types of ground/ rough stone artifacts occur in moderate abundance. Of these, manos are the most frequent at 4.6 percent of the assemblage, followed by abraders and hammerstones. Scrapers, at almost 30 percent, dominate other categories, and three types—scrapers, retouched pieces, and projectile points—constitute almost 70 percent of the assemblage. Of the remainder, only bifaces and unifaces are present in notable frequency— in this case, at 9 percent and 4 percent of the assemblage respectively. This list is broken down by subtype and raw material in Table A5.2. A bifacial industry is present but not dominant, as in earlier prehistoric periods. Bifaces are mostly broken into smaller pieces, a result of the lack of chert in the Tulsa area. As a conservation measure, tool users would often have to make new implements out of older, worn-out ones, breaking up larger items like bifaces to do this. Of the bifacial specimens large enough to derive some idea of trajectory, most pieces were arrested early in the reduction process. Although objects classi¤ed as bifaces usually do not possess a discernible bit end, two whole specimens in this assemblage do (see Figure A5.1a,b). Classi¤ed as adzes in this typology, their shape suggests that they may have been woodworking tools, but they were discovered in the midden and were not included in the functional analyses discussed later in this report. Among bifacially worked tools the most abundant are projectile points, and by far the most numerous of these are small triangular arrowheads typed as Fresno and Maud (see Figure A5.2). These are local types that also dominate other important protohistoric settlements in Oklahoma and Kansas (Deer Creek: Sudbury 1975:97; Bryson-Paddock: Hartley and Miller 1977:14; Longest: Lubell 1967:207; Great Bend sites: Rohn and Emerson 1984:129). One, and possibly two, of the objects illustrated
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in Figure A5.2 appear to be Nodena points, a type common among post-Mississippian cultures of the Mississippi basin and suggestive of contact with people of that region. A few dart points reminiscent of an earlier era were also recovered (see Figure A5.3). Several of these have been typed as Gary or Langtry (without reference to speci¤c subtypes), and Ellis, Williams, and a few indeterminate styles are also represented. Since sites of earlier periods were discovered within a kilometer of Lasley Vore on a lower terrace, and since there is no other indication of an earlier occupation at that site, the most parsimonious explanation for the appearance of these points is their acquisition from nearby locales. The unifacial component of the Lasley Vore assemblage is numerically more abundant than the bifacial component. The most frequently occurring unifacial type is the scraper, which is dominated by end and distolateral (side- and end-retouched) subtypes (featured prominently in Figures A5.4 and A5.5). Although most scrapers
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Fig A5.1. Adzes and burins. a, b: bifacial adzes; c: burin on break surface of ®ake; d: burin on striking platform of ®ake; e: burin on break surface of biface.
are de¤ned as being retouched on the edge only, a few of these bear invasive retouch yet are classi¤ed as scrapers rather than as unifaces, because their shape closely resembles that of other edge-retouched scrapers in the collection. In general the collection appears to be fairly homogeneous, although a few side, thumbnail, and spurred subtypes add some variety. My impression is that individual scrapers are not as large as specimens in the Bryson-Paddock or Deer Creek sites. Other unifacial types are also fairly abundant in the assemblage. The retouched
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Fig. A5.2. Small triangular points. a, c, e, f, g, i: Fresno; d, j: Maud; b (and probably h): Nodena; h, k, l: Indeterminate.
piece category, a heterogeneous, expediently used type, is the second largest at almost 20 percent of the type collection. Denticulates (see Figure A5.6a,b,f) and notched pieces (see Figure A5.6c,g) also exhibit little formal regularity, the teeth and notches having presumably been produced for ad hoc use of the individual tool for a speci¤c task. Pieces in the uniface type (see Figure A5.6d,e) had a greater amount of effort invested in their manufacture, having been invasively retouched to a more uniform shape, but, unlike end and side scrapers, they do not possess an obvious bit edge. Pointed tools such as gravers, drills, and burins occur infrequently but are de¤nitely an integral part of the assemblage. Gravers were fashioned exclusively on ®akes and show little formal regularity. The same is true of drills (see Figure A5.6h,i), whose modi¤cation frequently extends only to the bit. Burins are a little different, as a good burin bit depends on the quality of the platform established to deliver the burin blow. Most of the Lasley Vore burins employed ®ake blanks, the burin blow usually having been delivered to either the striking platform of the ®ake (see Figure A5.1d) or a break surface (see Figure A5.1c). In one instance the blow was delivered to the break surface of a fragmented biface (see Figure A5.1e). Whereas the implements described above were unquestionably part of the Native American repertoire, six gun®ints relate to a European presence (see Figure A5.7). Some of these ®ints do not appear native to eastern Oklahoma and may have been
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Fig. A5.3. Large hafted bifaces. a: Ellis; b, c, f, g: Gary; h: Williams; d: Indeterminate (Ellis?); e: Indeterminate (Martindale?).
brought from Europe. Two of them (see Figure A5.7a,b) are rectangular and relatively unused, suggesting the form in which they were originally transported.
Raw Materials Raw material distribution is presented in Table 6.6. Identi¤cations of chert types were assisted by maps and descriptions in Huffman (1958), Thompson and Fellows (1969), and Banks (1984, 1990); and by an extensive comparative collection of the Ozarks and nearby regions assembled by Don Dickson of Searcy, Arkansas. The siliceous materials for chipped stone tools contained in this table are mostly cherts, though novaculites and agatized dolomites are also present. To skirt semantic dif¤culties, all have been called siliceous stone in the table. The silicates have been divided, as much as possible, into their probable regions of origin, whether the Ozarks, Ouachitas, Flint Hills, Texas/Western Oklahoma, or further a¤eld. Chert identi¤cation here demands considerable familiarity with the local geology, as the nodules in these formations often contain a large range of variability. For example, the Moore¤eld Formation contains four members, of which the Tahlequah yields white chert, the Bayou Manard, black (Banks 1990:27). My ascription of a piece to the Moore¤eld was consistent in attributing it to the Bayou Manard member, and it is possible that a few pieces of white chert ascribed to the Keokuk Formation originated instead in the Tahlequah member of the Moore¤eld.
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Fig. A5.4. Scrapers. a, b, g: end scrapers; c, d, e, f, h, i, j: distolateral scrapers.
These kinds of errors, however, would still place these cherts in their correct region of origin. Siliceous material in the Lasley Vore type collection is dominated by Ozark cherts, particularly from the Reeds Spring Formation. About 10 percent of the assemblage is composed of cherts from the Flint Hills of southern Kansas/north-central Oklahoma, mostly Florence A, whereas less than 5 percent comes from the Ouachita Mountains of southeastern Oklahoma and southwestern Arkansas. Long-distance transport is represented by about 1 percent of the material in the form of two substances: Alibates agatized dolomite from the Texas panhandle or western Oklahoma, and Knife R iver ®int from North Dakota. The majority of the rough and ground stone artifacts was fashioned from an indurated sandstone, a substance that occurs locally. Source areas for the quartz, quartzite, and granite are not known, but these materials are locally rare, if not absent.
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Fig. A5.5. Scrapers. c: end scraper; a, b, d, e, f: distolateral scrapers.
From these tabulations of the entire site type collection, two impressions are paramount. First, a large proportion is comprised of very few morphological types, of which the most frequently employed were scrapers. Second, most of the cherts originated in the Ozarks, Reeds Spring being the overwhelming favorite. Some transport from other regions is evident from the distribution of silicates, and perhaps from certain of the igneous materials. Interpretations of nonretouched material will be made from the samples to be discussed shortly. THE FI V E-CLUSTER SUBSET: METHODOLOGY
Sampling Feature clusters 2, 4, 5, 7, and 8 yielded the greatest quantity of features and lithic artifacts and were employed for comparing the various parts of the site with one another. In the following studies I submitted every available type collection artifact in these clusters to intensive typo-technological and functional analyses. For the debitage I initially devised a randomized sampling scheme that produced cluster samples that were the same fraction of the total as their proportion of the excavated
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Fig. A5.6. Representative unifacially modi¤ed types. a, b, f: denticulates; c, g: notched pieces; d, e: unifaces; h, i: drills.
population. However, I had not anticipated that the speed at which we excavated the site and some of the techniques that we were forced to adopt because of the incredible aridity of the soil had resulted in destroying portions of many artifacts, thus annihilating much of the microscopic evidence used to deduce functional characteristics. If an artifact had been damaged too extensively in excavation, I had to discard it from consideration, a policy that, for this sampling scheme, reduced the
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Fig. A5.7. Gun®ints. a, b: European style; c–e: Native American style.
total sample of utilized debris whose integrity was not in doubt below an acceptable quantitative level for most of the clusters. This situation forced a reconsideration of sampling procedures and increased the amount of time necessary to complete the analysis of debris. In the end the sample included every piece of undamaged debris from clusters 2, 5, 7, and 8, and half of cluster 4, which was by far the largest. Cluster 4 was sampled according to a procedure whereby a number of stones equaling half of the total was drawn randomly from each sampling unit (that is, feature, or level of excavated test pit containing a feature). Sampling half of one cluster while considering the totality of the others may have introduced a bias into the comparisons, since unretouched debitage was, on the whole, utilized by the prehistoric occupants of the site differently from intentionally modi¤ed implements. However, the sampling was conducted randomly (though it remained basically a cluster sample); this problem affects very few of the interpretations; its in®uence can be assessed; and to have analyzed the rest of the cluster 4 debitage would have required an amount of time that was unavailable. In other words, this was the best accommodation that could be arranged. As it was, 297 type collection objects and 2,664 pieces of debitage were subjected to intensive typo-technological and functional analyses.
Analytical System In addition to the typo-technological system employed for all artifacts, mentioned above, speci¤c technological data were recorded for certain classes of artifacts and
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will be explained below as they are encountered. Functional information was accumulated by submitting all artifacts in the sample to a use-wear analysis—that is, a study of the traces on the working edges and surfaces of a tool that accrue from its contact with a material during utilization. Fundamentals of methodology are explained in Tringham et al. (1974), Odell (1975, 1981a), and Kamminga (1982). The technique has been subjected to several blind tests in which an experimenter uses tools and gives them to the analyst to evaluate. Results of these assessments have attained an acceptable level of accuracy on parameters involving the location of wear, tool motion, and worked material (Odell and Odell-Vereecken 1980; Shea 1987, 1988). The use-wear analysis was accomplished with a Nikon SMZ-10 stereoscopic microscope possessing capabilities of magni¤cation to 160 ×. Although most determinations were made at 20–50 ×, magni¤cations usually exceeded this level at least once while observing an object, frequently enlarging to 100 × or more for very small traces. Abrasive and dislocatory (fracturing) wear were equally important in making functional assessments, as has been the case throughout the history of this technique (Dickson 1991:42; Kamminga 1982; Odell 1987). Functional determinations were accomplished using a large comparative collection compiled through experimentation at the University of Tulsa. Several attributes of wear were recorded for each locus of utilization. These included elements of abrasive damage such as the relative intensity of use polish, direction of striations, and degree of edge rounding; and attributes of edge fracturing such as relative size of removals, their distribution along the edge, their location on dorsal, ventral or intermediate side, and scar termination. Direct assessment of activity (tool motion) and material worked, based on the comparative collection, were also made for each artifact. De¤nitions of these terms can be found in Odell (1981a). Tool motions are straightforward, but a word about the system used to record worked material is appropriate, since that system is dif¤cult to understand without some explanation. Categories have been divided according to relative material hardness, or resistance to force. Two kinds of soft material are recognized: soft animal (AS) and soft vegetal (VS). Two kinds of medium materials (1M, 2M) have also been discriminated, corresponding roughly to soft and hard woods. And three hard material resistance categories have been differentiated: less resistant organic material such as bone (1H), harder organic material such as seasoned antler or shell (2H), and inorganic material such as rock or earth (3H). Although distinctions on these levels are often possible, most statistical tests have been performed on collapsed soft, medium, and hard categories. Intensive lithic analyses necessitate a system that can discriminate among speci¤c use episodes (if evidence for more than one is found) and can distinguish which portion of a piece was utilized. In this study an individual use episode was recorded as a functional unit (FU)—that is, a locus on the tool that provides evidence for one discrete task. This is the most elemental unit of analysis, and one tool may possess more than one functional unit. Each functional unit was recorded on a data sheet to eventually be read into a computer, a speci¤c artifact containing as many lines of data as there are FUs on the piece. Locating a speci¤c functional unit was accomplished using an eight polar coordinate system, for which an artifact is positioned ventral surface downward and proximal end (or end established by convention, if ®ake origination is lacking or cannot be determined) toward the observer. The object was partitioned into eight equal portions, starting at 12:00 as on a wristwatch and continuing clockwise (Odell
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1979). In this analysis the functional data will usually be presented by functional unit; the typological and technological data, by piece. Type collection and debitage samples have been kept separate for some of these analyses and combined for others—a justi¤able action, since for every cluster but one, all of the material has been analyzed. THE FI V E-CLUSTER SUBSET: GLOBA L R ESULTS
Typology and Raw Material The rest of this analysis will involve those artifacts with good context contained in the ¤ve largest feature clusters. The composition of the ¤ve-cluster type collection is very similar to that of the type collection from the entire site. Scrapers constitute almost a quarter of all modi¤ed tools, followed by projectile points and retouched pieces. These three types combined constitute almost 60 percent of the type collection. Bifaces (10.4 percent) and manos (7.4 percent) are moderately represented, and abraders, denticulates, and unifaces register at about 3–4 percent. Because the principal characteristics of the larger assemblage have already been summarized, further elaboration of this subset is not warranted. Raw materials of the ¤ve-cluster subset also follow patterns in the type collection quite closely. About half of the type collection and more than 70 percent of the debitage was manufactured from Ozark cherts, particularly the Reeds Spring variety, though moderate amounts of Frisco and Florence A cherts and novaculite were also represented. The only recognized material that had to have come a great distance from the site were two pieces of Alibates agatized dolomite gathered from the panhandle of Texas or from eroded beds in the Canadian R iver system of western Oklahoma (Kraft 1997; Wyckoff 1993). The debris contains all of the major kinds of silicates found in the type collection, lacking only those rare types represented by three pieces or fewer. This suggests that most raw material was imported into the site in the form of cores or preforms and reduced further at the site.
Technological Classes Stone tool technology at Lasley Vore was dependent on the production of ®akes. Only two cores were recovered from these ¤ve feature clusters, and both are amorphous, free-held ®ake cores (see Figure A5.8). Fashioned from Reeds Spring chert, both contain two platforms that are naturally ®at rather than prepared that way. Inspecting the kind of blanks from which retouched chipped stone tools were manufactured involved isolating those classes of tools that are not expressly bifacial— that is, not bifaces or projectile points. The resulting table (see Table A5.3) indicates that a range of blank forms, including blades, blocky fragments, and bifaces was employed by toolmakers. However, more than 90 percent of the chipped stone tools were manufactured on ®ake blanks, attesting to the overwhelming popularity of this form. The entire sample of both utilized and unutilized debitage was classi¤ed into technological subtypes to provide detailed information on salient manufacture characteristics. All of the classes except the “blocky fragment” (that is, shatter) possess observable ®ake characteristics such as bulb of percussion, striking platform, ripples, lateral ¤ssures, and other ventral features (see Bonnichsen 1977; Crabtree 1972); that is, all but blocky fragments are ®akes. More speci¤cally, blades are specialized kinds of ®akes that are at least twice as
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Fig. A5.8. Double-platform, amorphous, free-held ®ake cores of Reeds Spring chert.
long as they are wide and possess roughly parallel sides (Tixier 1984). Primary decortication ®akes possess cortex (see discussion in Henry and Odell 1989) on at least half of their dorsal surface; secondary decortication ®akes, on less than half. Interior ®akes have no cortex at all but bear no other features characteristic of more specialized ®ake types. Bifacial reduction ®akes possess no cortex, but they do possess characteristics of having been part of a bifacial trajectory; for example, bifacial scarring on the striking platform, generally thin cross-section, multidirectional dorsal scar negatives, ventral lipping, diffuse bulb of percussion. Core rejuvenation ®akes contain part of the striking platform of a core and can be shown to have been struck for the purpose of improving the angle between that core’s striking platform and its dorsal face. And sharpening ®akes were struck to rejuvenate a tool edge, their dorsal surface possessing part of that edge and often the wear from the activity in which the tool was engaged. Debris classes are presented by cluster in Table A5.4. A striking feature of this table is the extreme variation among clusters in the proportion of blocky fragments. In those clusters possessing large quantities of blocky fragments (clusters 4, 5, and 8), an elevated percentage appeared to have been thermally altered, suggesting that they had shattered through contact with ¤re. In the statistical manipulations re-
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ported later, adjustments for this problem will be made, but the table can still render a general impression of the principal types of debris generated at the site. Disregarding blocky fragments, the most frequently encountered debris class is the nontechnologically speci¤c interior ®ake. This category is followed in abundance by biface reduction ®akes, indicating a substantial amount of bifacial tool working. Since substantial proportions of ®akes still possess their outer cortex, tool users at Lasley Vore must have brought in raw material that was not fully preformed. Working the nodules into bifaces and ®ake tools resulted in a reasonably abundant array of primary cortication ®akes and about twice as many secondary cortication ®akes. Specialized ®akes other than products of biface reduction are at a premium in
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this assemblage. Only three sharpening ®akes and one core rejuvenation ®ake were recorded, and the eight blades noted were classi¤ed on morphological criteria alone. No evidence of a blade technique was observed, nor were blade cores unearthed. In general, then, Lasley Vore toolmakers were engaged totally in a ®ake and biface technology. They made no prismatic blades intentionally, and they did not rejuvenate their cores or sharpen their tool edges in a systematic manner.
Breakage Sometimes the amount and nature of tool breakage can provide information important for interpreting behavioral context. Breakage information was recorded for the type collection and utilized debitage only (see Table A5.5). Pieces were registered as complete or broken and, if broken, the portion of the remaining original blank was noted. Broken tools form 60 percent of the analyzed sample, and ends tend to be more frequently registered than sides, or mesial sections. This phenomenon is probably a recording bias, however, as a broken piece with both a remnant end and side would tend to be classi¤ed with the end. Unbroken pieces are slightly more frequent in the utilized debris than in the type collection, possibly a result of the intense usage to which formally shaped tools appear to have been subjected. Table A5.6 compares, for eventual chi-square evaluation (Blalock 1972:275–287), ¤ve types or type combinations with one another on the presence or absence of breakage. Bifaces, retouched pieces, and projectile points are included in the table, along with the burin/drill/graver/denticulate/notched piece and scraper/uniface combinations. Of these ¤ve categories, only the burin (etc.) combined category contains an observed cell value close to the expected one; all others diverge dramatically, 2 producing a very signi¤cant chi-square value (X = 51.5, df = 4, P<.001). Projectile points and scrapers/unifaces show much less breakage than expected and probably for different reasons. If scrapers were used for scraping (as most were, as we shall see), they do not normally break in use, or even in manufacture. Broken projectile points, which one would expect to have been frequent, would have been left in the ¤eld, and points with minimal to moderate impact damage would have been recorded as complete. At the other extreme, almost all of the bifaces and retouched pieces have been fractured. In other assemblages these kinds of tools were typically multifunctional,
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an assessment that is also valid for this collection. Thus they would have been more likely than other tool forms to have been put to additional uses subsequent to their original ones, increasing the likelihood of breakage. The results of this analysis establish that fracturing did not occur across the board but affected certain tool types more than others. The extent of breakage ultimately depended on the types of activities engaged in, frequency of multifunctionality, and changes in form to which these tools had been subjected.
Heat Alteration Another feature of North American prehistoric lithic assemblages is the extent to which ®int implements had been prepared before manufacture by thermal alteration. Baking ®int to facilitate knapping was a widespread practice on this continent (for example, Crabtree and Butler 1964; Mandeville 1973; Purdy and Brooks 1971), and monitoring this variable can provide important technological information. In the Lasley Vore assemblage the proportions of heat alteration in the type collection and debitage are virtually identical (see Table A5.7). In both samples, about three-quarters of the pieces were thermally altered. To test whether or not heat treatment was favored for certain kinds of implements, the retouched tools were organized into the same types and type combinations as before (see Table A5.8) and submitted to a chi-square evaluation. This 2 time the result shows no signi¤cant deviation from a random distribution (X = 6.09, df = 4, P = .30). Only scrapers/unifaces exhibit a tendency to depart from their expected cell values, in this case in the direction of not having been heat treated. The other types contain about three times as many heat altered as nonheat altered specimens.
Function Functional Attributes Table A5.9 lists the wear attributes, in functional units, observed under the microscope. In interpreting this table we should be aware that, if fracturing exists, all of
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its attributes will necessarily be present, whereas abrasive attributes can be formed independently of one another and do not necessarily co-occur. The global attribute counts for the type collection and debitage have been kept separate to facilitate comparison. Among abrasive variables, the most striking contrast between the two sample aggregates occurs with edge rounding. Almost two-thirds of all rounding in the type collection is heavy, indicating excessive abrasion. This is to be expected for modi¤ed chipped stone tools, since two of the primary purposes of retouch are to sharpen dulled edges and to provide more effective purchase of the implement— both of which imply substantial use intensity. In contrast, the use of debitage favors light rounding of tools that were never sharpened (otherwise, they would possess retouch and be placed in the type collection). Polish in both samples is predominantly bright, perhaps because of abundant usage on hard materials in the type collection and on medium materials among debris, as we shall see below. Phytolith polish in the debitage suggests the presence of hoe sharpening ®akes and therefore of agricultural or digging activities. The presence of striations and the location of abrasive wear are strongly in®uenced by the nature of the groups being compared. That is, the type collection contains almost all of the grinding and rubbing tools such as manos and abraders, for which surface stria-
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tions constitute a salient component. This explains the abundance of surface grinding in the TC and its absence in the debitage. In order to interpret the striations adequately, one would have to break the variable down by functional group. Differences between type collection and debris are also apparent in attributes of fracture. For example, fractures on unretouched ®akes have feather terminations more frequently than fractures on retouched artifacts, a result of the generally softer material on which the debitage was used. In contrast, twice as many step-terminated scars were recorded on modi¤ed tools than on the debris, re®ecting the abundance of use on hard materials in the TC. The elevated percentage of comminutions (that is, pitted fractures) in the type collection is largely a function of knapping ®int tools, pecking rough stone for the purpose of cracking nut shells or long bones for marrow, or similar percussive activities. Scar size also shows differences between modi¤ed and unmodi¤ed tools. The type collection exhibits a greater percentage of small and large fractures, perhaps re®ecting usage on soft and hard materials—contrasted with the elevated percentage of medium-sized fractures in the debris, which was employed to a much greater degree on substances of medium hardness. Scars close to one another (within one scar width but not touching) are more common in the debitage, whereas run-together (contiguous) scars are more common in the type collection, probably re®ecting the preponderance of cutting activities in the former and scraping in the latter. These respective tool motions are also re®ected in the dominance of combined dorsal/ventral fracturing in the debris and dorsal fracturing in the type collection. Many of the clumped and alternating (from side to side down an edge) scars in the debris sample are attributable to prehensile wear. Functional Interpretations Based on the attributes described above, functional interpretations were rendered for each artifact. Let us begin by inspecting the big picture: the activities and worked materials represented in the entire combined TC/debitage sample (see Table A5.10). Several dominant activity nodes are apparent here: hide scraping, cutting of medium/ hard substances, projectile use, and grinding. Secondary nodes include graving and drilling medium/hard materials, grooved grinding, and pounding (hammer). Grinding, grooved grinding, pounding, cutting, graving, and drilling are typical of a general habitation situation. These tool motions are necessary for a suite of tasks from subsistence to the construction of houses and facilities. The impact damage from projectile use suggests a hunting component, and much of the cutting on hard material (1H) was probably derived from butchering carcasses. The hide scraping component is particularly abundant, suggesting that this may have been an important consideration for the existence of this site. Let us now inspect the contributions made by the modi¤ed and unmodi¤ed portions of the assemblage respectively. I have tabulated type collection activities (see Table A5.11) and worked materials (see Table A5.12) by cluster, but for now we will be concerned only with the marginal totals. The most abundant individual activity in the type collection is scraping, with more than a quarter of the total. Grinding constitutes 16 percent, followed by almost equal proportions of cutting, projectile, pounding, and grooved grinding, at 8–10 percent, and low quantities of several other activities (1–3 percent). Modi¤ed tools were utilized most frequently on soft animal materials, associated
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directly with hide scraping. Secondary usage on hard materials, at slightly less than 15 percent, relates to cutting (for example, butchery) and graving or drilling (tool maintenance), as well as the use of hammers for stone tool production. Substances of medium resistance such as wood are poorly represented in the type collection. Indeterminate worked materials are associated with tasks such as mano grinding, for which not enough experimental work has been performed to allow discrimination of wear patterns into speci¤c categories; and pounding and projectile use, percussive activities for which we may never achieve suitable discrimination. Tool motions represented among unretouched debitage (see Table A5.13) are quite different from those in the type collection. With their abundance of sharp edges, unretouched ®akes make excellent cutting tools, and more than 40 percent of them in this assemblage were so employed. Almost 20 percent exhibit impact damage from projectile usage, about half that number were employed respectively as drills and as gravers, and almost 6 percent were shaving tools. Scraping is a minor activity in the debitage—indicating that, for this group of people, scraping was accomplished primarily with retouched implements many of which are classi¤ed by archaeologists as scrapers. Wedges and hammers also constitute a minor proportion of the activity complex, and abrasive activities such as grinding, rubbing, and grooved grinding, tasks most commonly found in the rough stone component of the type collection,
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are not represented at all. Chopping and shredding tools, which are occasionally present among unretouched debitage at other sites, are also not represented in this assemblage. The distribution of materials on which unretouched ®akes made contact is also at variance with that of the type collection (see Table A5.14). The principal difference is in the elevated proportion of substances of moderate resistance, mostly woods, in the debitage. At almost a third of the total functional units, the unretouched ®ake was considered a far more suitable woodworking tool than a piece of modi¤ed chert. Yielding substances such as meat, hide, ¤sh, and vegetation are well represented in the debitage, though the tasks with which they are associated primarily involve cutting, rather than the hide scraping in which retouched tools were engaged. Hard materials constitute about 20 percent of the debitage, of which most were cutting and butchering tools, but a few were gravers and drills on bone or antler. The indeterminate category is represented by only a quarter of the debris, as opposed to half of the type collection, because of the lack of rough stone tools such as hammers and manos, for which contact material distinctions are currently problematic. Most of the indeterminate worked materials in the debitage relate to the projectile activity. INTERCLUSTER COMPA R ISONS
Typology Having considered the Lasley Vore site as a whole, let us now compare the ¤ve largest feature clusters with one another. The object of the exercise is to discern whether or not patterned differences exist among the clusters. If so, the interpretation of those differences might have profound implications for our understanding of the site. Qualitatively, the ¤ve clusters do not appear noticeably different from one another on any parameter, as the same types of tools are present in each. Most of our
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evaluations will therefore involve testing whether or not the proportions of the various attributes differ signi¤cantly from one cluster to another. When separated into their intrasite constituencies, many of the variables with which we are concerned are not numerically large enough to be testable statistically. Since this is the case for the typological system (not tabulated here by cluster), I initially selected for comparison the three most abundant classes: retouched pieces, projectile points, and scrapers/unifaces. A chi-square evaluation of these categories over the ¤ve clusters shows almost no deviation of observed values from expected 2 values (X = 6.21, df = 8, P = .7–.5). Through inspecting the preliminary cross tables, it appeared that certain feature clusters, notably 2 and 7, were de¤cient in rough stone tools. A table was accordingly constructed comparing the ¤ve clusters on the frequency of rough versus chipped stone tools. Although the two clusters cited above are clearly de¤cient in rough stone, their margin of de¤ciency is not enough in a chi-square test to produce statistical 2 signi¤cance at the .05 level (X = 6.54, df = 4, P = .2-.1). It is possible that, although the table as a whole does not achieve statistical signi¤cance, certain parts of it may be signi¤cantly different from other parts. For example, the percentage of noncherty stones in the cluster 5 type collection (22.4 percent) is quite elevated relative to the others, particularly to clusters 2 (4.3 percent) and 7 (7.7 percent). I therefore conducted a series of bivariate analyses known as difference-of-proportions tests (Blalock 1972:228–232) to evaluate the extent of divergence between each pair of clusters on the proportion of nonchert tools in the type collection. In no case is a difference-of-proportions evaluation signi¤cant at the .05 level, although the comparisons between cluster 5 and clusters 2 and 7 do not exceed that level by very much. Since these are the most apparent typological differences among clusters and they have proven statistically nonsigni¤cant, I conclude that the clusters cannot be distinguished from one another on typological grounds.
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Raw Material Previous analyses established that most of the siliceous raw material utilized by inhabitants of the Lasley Vore site originated east and southeast of Tulsa, either in the Ozark or Ouachita regions. Two notable exceptions to this pattern exist: Alibates agatized dolomite from western Oklahoma or the Texas panhandle, and Florence A chert from the Flint Hills. Since only two pieces of Alibates were discovered in these feature clusters, no pattern is discernible. The total amount of Florence A chert is substantial, however, and it is worthwhile analyzing this source to see if speci¤c areas of the site favored the Flint Hills as their procurement zone. The cluster 4 subassemblage appears to favor this source (14.2 percent), while the cluster 7 subassemblage contains relatively little of it (8.8 percent), but a chi-square evaluation of the ¤ve-cluster by two-source area table 2 is not signi¤cant at the .05 level (X = 7.13, df = 4, P = .2–.1). Comparing these two clusters individually with a difference-of-proportions test also yielded results not signi¤cantly different from random variation (Z = 1.13, 2-tailed P =. 256). Although the eastern Oklahoma silicates were not individually tested, there was no indication that any of the clusters diverged on any relevant parameter. These results suggest that chert procurement practices throughout the site were not signi¤cantly different, and that the inhabitants obtained their raw materials from the same sources in about the same proportions.
Technology and Breakage Flake core and biface trajectories dominate the type collections of all clusters, which exhibit little variation and have not been investigated further on this parameter. Another technological variant that is more dif¤cult to discern and is worth testing, under the assumption that different ethnic groups may have varied in the amount they modi¤ed their tools, is the extent of retouch to individual artifacts. Table A5.15 presents a frequency distribution of retouched polar coordinates (PCs) for individual pieces in each of the clusters. To assure expected frequencies of at least ¤ve per cell, categories were collapsed into 1–3, 4–6, and 7–8 retouched PCs. A chi-square test of the resulting table (not shown here) exhibits almost no deviation from expected 2 frequencies (X = 5.40, df = 8, P = .8-.7). Technological classes in the debris contain substantially more variability than classes in the type collection. Consider Table A5.4, already inspected for its global characteristics. In evaluating this table, let us omit the rare categories and the blocky fragments, which exhibit extreme variability simply because some ®int has shattered in a ¤re and some has not. The resulting 5 × 4 con¤guration of cluster by the remaining four ®ake types suggests major differences among clusters. Cluster 2 contains more primary cortication ®akes than expected, but is markedly short on interior ®akes. Clusters 4 and 8 contain more interior ®akes than expected, the latter compensating for this through de¤ciencies in primary and biface reduction ®akes. Cluster 5 emphasizes secondary ®akes at the expense of biface reduction ®akes, whereas cluster 7 emphasizes the latter but is de¤cient in interior ®akes. A chi-square 2 test re®ects these differences (X = 65.18, df = 12, P < .001), and bivariate relationships were con¤rmed through a series of difference-of-proportions tests. Evaluations of other technological variables, however, failed to con¤rm the existence of substantial intercluster differences. For example, the extent of heat treat2 ment of chert was tested, but neither the type collection (X = 6.38, df = 4, P = .2-.1)
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2
nor debitage samples (X = 7.52, df = 4, P = .25-.1) indicate any signi¤cant deviation from randomness. Potential differences in breakage characteristics were also investigated. Type collection artifacts were tabulated according to the part of the piece remaining, using the same categories as before but combining mesial and lateral pieces. The result of a chi-square test exhibits almost no divergence at all from a chance occurrence 2 (X = 6.72, df = 12, P = .9-.8). The table was further collapsed into broken and 2 complete pieces, with a similar result (X = 3.16, df = 4, P = .7-.5). The debitage was then dichotomized into complete and broken pieces and tabulated by cluster, with 2 a result similar to that of the type collection (X = 5.25, df = 4, P = .5-.25). Because the tables for heat alteration and breakage do not diverge signi¤cantly from a random distribution, I have not considered it necessary to collapse existing tables or present the results here by cluster.
Function Use Proportions A majority of the Lasley Vore type collection artifacts was considered to have been utilized, though variation on this parameter exists. In comparing the clusters on the presence or absence of use-damage in a 2 × 5 table, the clusters differ from one another hardly at all with respect to the proportion of utilized tools in their type 2 collections (X = 1.23, df = 4, P = .9–.8). The proportion of utilized debris is presented by cluster and debris class in Table A5.16. A wide divergence is apparent among blocky fragments, arti¤cially elevated in clusters 4, 5, and 8 by excessive thermal fragmentation. The range of use percentages in the other categories, however, is rather tight. The widest divergence occurs among decortication ®akes, cluster 2 exhibiting a high rate of utilization of primary ®akes,
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and clusters 4 and 8 exhibiting a high utilization rate for secondary ®akes. This divergence is not signi¤cant at the .05 level, however, and the difference in utilization rate for noncortex ®akes is quite small. I also compared clusters on the quantity of functional units employed for each use episode (1, 2, or 3), conducting separate evaluations for debitage and type collection samples. Difference-of-proportions tests of the debitage component indicated no differences among clusters signi¤cant to the .05 level. However, in comparing FUs utilized for one or more than one PC (see Table A5.17), signi¤cant differences in type collection artifacts did appear in a chi-square test, particularly in clusters 2, 2 4, and 5 (X = 10. 87, df = 4, P < .05). The majority of cluster 2 tools were used for one PC only, whereas cluster 4 and 5 tools were employed predominantly for two PCs. Differences signi¤cant at the .05 level were con¤rmed with difference-ofproportions tests between artifacts from cluster 2 and the other two clusters, though not with the tools from intermediate clusters 7 and 8. Activity/Worked Material Combinations A comprehensive comparison of the ¤ve feature clusters should consider the activityworked material combinations of each. The results of type collection and debitage samples have been amalgamated for each cluster and are presented in Tables A5.18 through A5.22. These tables will be employed as an interpretive tool with which to compare the activity complexes of each cluster assemblage. A battery of statistical tests was performed on the assessed activities in the various clusters. Because the sample has been divided among ¤ve clusters and several classes, many of the classes have been left with too few representatives to be analyzed individually. Chi-square tests therefore involved combining categories in ways that I hoped would be judicious. For example, activities in the type collections for each cluster, presented in Table A5.11, were lumped into three categories for manipula-
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tion through chi-square statistics: scrape, cut/shave/shred, and grind/rub/grooved grinding. These categories highlighted a relative abundance of grinding in cluster 5 and dearth of it in cluster 2. However, the results of the test do not deviate signi¤2 cantly from expectations based on chance (X = 10.33, df = 8, P = .25–.1). Enough differences were apparent, however, that a series of difference-of-proportions tests was conducted between speci¤c categories in individual clusters. For this endeavor categories that had been deleted previously because they did not contain suf¤cient cell values for chi-square evaluation (projectile, chop/hammer/anvil/wedge, and grave/drill) could be included. From this analysis two tool classes yielded differences signi¤cant at the .05 level or more. Cluster 2 contained signi¤cantly more gravers and drills, and fewer grinding tools, than any other cluster. These analyses also suggest the following tendencies, though none proved signi¤cant at the .05 level:
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cluster 4 contains more choppers (etc.); cluster 5 contains less scraping; and cluster 8 contains more grinding tools. When type collection and debitage activities are combined, some interesting patterns emerge. Table A5.23 presents an amalgam of Tables A5.11 and A5.13, combining several activities to increase cell values: cut/shave, scrape/shred, drill/grave, grind/rub/grooved grinding, and hammer/anvil/chop/wedge. A chi-square evaluation of this table exhibits major differences involving all categories and all groups 2 except cluster 5 (X = 57.87, df = 20, P < .005). Cluster 2 contains abundant drilling and graving tools and projectile points, but almost no heavy grinding or percussion tools (choppers, wedges, etc.). Cluster 4, on the other hand, contains only half the expected quantity of projectiles, but more scraping, grinding, and percussion tools than anticipated. Cluster 7 emphasizes cutting tools and projectiles, but is de¤cient in drills/gravers and percussion tools. And cluster 8 emphasizes grinding and percussion tools at the expense of cutting. Difference-of-proportions tests of selected activities in combined modi¤ed and unmodi¤ed tool samples con¤rm some of these observations. For example, cluster 4 was found to contain signi¤cantly fewer projectile points than any other group except cluster 8. This result may have been caused by the fact that only half of the cluster 4 debris was observed for use-wear. However, the percentage of impact damage in the debris that was observed was no higher than in the type collection and, at this rate, would not have increased its overall proportion. Cluster 7 contains the highest overall percentage of functional projectile points, but was signi¤cantly higher
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(at the .05 level) only when compared to cluster 4. Tool motions attributable to cutting occur frequently, but they constitute a stable 18–27 percent of each cluster and cannot be statistically separated. As with tool motions, the distribution of contact materials does not exhibit signi¤cant deviations from expected values when the type collection alone is considered. Type collection worked materials lumped into soft, medium, and hard suggest an overrepresentation of soft substances in cluster 8 and an underrepresentation of them in cluster 4, but not enough to render the differences in the table signi¤cant at the 2 .05 level (X = 12.75, df = 8, P = .25–.1). And since indeterminate worked materials appeared to be substantially fewer in cluster 2 (26.5 percent) than in the other clusters, a series of difference-of-proportions tests was instituted to test this proposition. The results established no signi¤cant differences between cluster 2 and the others on this parameter. When the debitage and type collections were combined and lumped into soft, medium, and hard resistance categories (see Table A5.24), however, signi¤cant differ2 ences emerged in the distribution of worked materials (X = 16.56, df = 8, P < .05). The clusters tend to dichotomize, cluster 2 and 4 reacting similarly and in a direction opposite that of clusters 5 and 7. Hard contact materials such as bone and stone are overrepresented in clusters 2 and 4, at the expense of substances of moderate resistance such as wood. Clusters 5 and 7 exhibit an abundance of woodworking and less emphasis on the manipulation of hard materials. This dichotomy follows a northsouth partitioning of the site similar to that observed in a cluster analysis of pottery attributes undertaken by Shingleton (see appendix 10). One tool motion/worked material combination—hide scraping (scrape AS)—is very common among the clusters, and I decided to test this task separately. Hide scraping constitutes 11–15 percent of all combined assemblages except cluster 2, in which it constitutes slightly less than 6 percent. To determine whether or not cluster 2 really is different from the others in its paucity of hide scraping, another series of difference-of-proportions tests was run. The results exhibit no differences signi¤cant at the .05 level. In the course of observing traces of utilization on stone tools, it is frequently possible to recognize damage from the agent that gripped the tool during use (Odell 1981a; Odell and Odell-Vereecken 1980; Owen and Unrath 1989; Plisson 1987). In
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some cases it is even possible to distinguish a hand-held tool from a hafted one. My recognition of prehensile wear was not as high on the Lasley Vore specimens as it has been in other collections, caused primarily by the extensive excavation damage to artifact edges. Because of meager sample sizes, I have combined debris and type collection data and present in Table A5.25 the functional units attributable to hafting, manual prehension, and general prehension (in which I could not distinguish which mechanism caused the wear). Cluster 7 contains a higher percentage (15.5 percent) of prehensile to total wear than any of the others, clusters 4, 5, and 8 being the lowest at about 7–8 percent. I compared cluster 7 to these three through differenceof-proportions tests, ¤nding that only cluster 4 differs from cluster 7 at a .05 level of signi¤cance (Z = 2.45, 2-tailed P<.05). The meaning of this result is unclear.
Summary of Comparisons Considerations of tool form and manufacture have yielded no appreciable differences among the ¤ve feature clusters at the Lasley Vore site. No visible qualitative distinctions can be detected, and statistical manipulations of certain abundant types such as retouched pieces, projectile points, and scrapers have also proved to be unsuccessful distinguishing elements. The same result was obtained when testing rough stone against chipped stone and nonchert versus chert types. One cannot necessarily conclude that the tools from each cluster are alike in every respect, but no quantitative or qualitative features have been found to distinguish among them. Most of the material from which the tools were made originated in eastern Oklahoma or adjacent areas, and this characteristic crosscuts all clusters. Of the material that did not originate there, only Florence A chert from the southern Flint Hills is present in quantities large enough to evaluate statistically. No signi¤cant differences were encountered, suggesting that chert, and probably nonchert lithic substances as well, from all clusters was obtained from the same basic procurement range. Several technological attributes were tested to determine whether or not the people who abandoned their tools in the various clusters had manufactured them in the same manner. With respect to parameters tested here, they appear to have done so. All clusters are dominated by ®ake core and biface technologies and, within the type collection, the ®ake blank is almost universal. Frequencies of heat alteration and breakage show no differences among clusters, and the quantity of retouched polar coordinates among type collection artifacts is also similar.
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The only detectable technological differences involve debitage categories. In each cluster a speci¤c technological class is favored in the sense that it occurs in substantially greater proportion there than in the other clusters. Cluster 2 favors primary cortication ®akes; cluster 5, secondary cortication ®akes; clusters 4 and 8, interior ®akes; and cluster 7, biface reduction ®akes. Although these trends are quite pronounced, they are not particularly easy to interpret. The most consistently appearing divergences among clusters are functional in nature. From those attributes that have yielded distinctions between groups statistically signi¤cant at the .05 level, we can derive pro¤les of the fundamental functional characteristics of each of the clusters. The largest aggregation of features, cluster 4, exhibits a strong tendency toward generalized domestic activities. Scraping, grinding, and percussive activities (for example, chopping, wedging, pounding, etc.) are all represented in considerably larger quantities than expected. Percussive activities are necessary for the production and maintenance of facilities and the construction of buildings. Most of the scraping in this cluster concerned soft animal substances such as hide, and we know from nearby Protohistoric sites such as Bryson-Paddock and Deer Creek (Wedel 1981) that the Wichita there were intensely interested in providing prepared hides to be shipped to Europe in exchange for newly available and sought-after trade goods. Some of the grinding activities may also have concerned bison hide preparation (Schultz 1992), though much of it was also probably related to agricultural subsistence, as in the grinding of maize. The emphasis on hard worked materials is related to the domestic tasks of pounding and chopping. The paucity of functional projectile points at this locality indicates that the refurbishing of hunting equipment was not performed here. Cluster 4 has the lowest incidence of recorded prehensile traces, undoubtedly a result of the dominance of robust tools such as manos, hammers, and scrapers, on which percussive traces are not as easily observable as on tools with thinner edges. The functional pro¤le for cluster 8 is very similar to that of cluster 4, although not as many tested attributes achieved statistical signi¤cance. A strong tendency toward grinding and percussive activities—i.e., the same sorts of subsistence and domestic tasks that dominate cluster 4—exists here, while activities involving cutting are poorly represented. In the debitage of both clusters 4 and 8, interior ®akes achieve a plurality of ®ake types. If clusters 4 and 8 existed in the vicinity of heavy domestic activities and the preparation of hides presumably for trade, cluster 2 appears to have been an area of tool maintenance and repair of hunting equipment. Gravers and drills are abundant in both the type collection and debitage, and the dominant use of tools on very resistant organic materials indicates a bone/antler working locus in this northern area of the site. A concentration of impact damage suggests that this also served as a retooling area for hunting tasks. These traits are re®ected in a statistically signi¤cant tendency for implements to have been employed on only one polar coordinate— a characteristic of tools utilized on tips and projections, like the gravers, burins, drills, and projectile points that dominate this cluster. A paucity of grinding implements and tools used on substances of moderate resistance emphasizes that this was not an area in which either household domestic or woodworking tasks were concentrated. Debitage in cluster 2 shows an abundance of primary decortication ®akes, suggesting that initial lithic reduction occurred also here. Tools from the southern portion of the site emphasize more controlled manipu-
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lation of softer worked materials such as wood. Cluster 7 is the more distinctive of the two southern clusters with respect to tool use. It served as a locus of cutting and shaving tasks, particularly on woody substances, and was a retooling station for hunting activities. A relatively large percentage of tools was manufactured on biface reduction ®akes, which tend to be thin and not particularly well suited to heavy percussive tasks, as in chopping and pounding, or to tool maintenance tasks, as in graving and drilling. In fact, cluster 7 exhibits a distinct and statistically signi¤cant aversion toward graving, drilling, and percussive activities, those tasks that are represented most abundantly in the northern sector of the site. Prehensile wear is most abundant in cluster 7, perhaps because it was more easily observable on the thin edges of these tools than on the thicker and more battered margins of the robust tools employed in clusters 2, 4, and 8. Cluster 5 is not very functionally distinctive, as it fails to register statistical signi¤cance on most attributes. However, tools in this cluster were employed principally for 2 or 3 polar coordinates, suggesting the use of edges rather than tips or projections. These edges were employed on materials of moderate resistance, suggesting a woodworking locus involving several different tool motions. In the debitage, secondary cortication ®akes were the blank of choice and biface reduction ®akes were employed sparingly. CONCLUSIONS The analysis of stone tools from the Lasley Vore site has been geared toward answering two questions: What kind of site was this? What do the feature clusters represent? Let us now try to answer each question in turn.
What Kind of Site Was This? In responding to the ¤rst question, the results of all typo-technological and functional analyses of formal tools and debris are consistent with the ascription of the Lasley Vore site as a generalized habitation. Several tools exhibit the robust use-wear (for example, pounding, wedging, chopping) that one would expect from constructing and maintaining facilities and structures of a domestic complex. Also present is evidence for tool maintenance activities anticipated at a more permanent camp at which people would have geared up for specialized forays to extract speci¤c resources (Binford 1977, 1980). In addition, the pounding of inorganic hard material suggests the use of hammers to manufacture stone tools. Subsistence activities are re®ected in the abundant hard material cutting wear, much of which probably resulted from butchering. The cutting of soft animal and vegetal substances, particularly with unretouched implements, bears witness to the preparation of meat, ¤sh, and possibly roots and tubers, presumably to be eaten. Much of the grinding wear on manos and metates probably relates to reducing maize kernels, amply represented in the paleobotanical samples, into ®our. Impact damage to both formal and unshaped projectile points attests to involvement in hunting, the site having apparently been employed as a preparation and staging area for this activity. Finally, a large amount of hide scraping was performed here. Whether this was conducted in the normal course of making clothes, tents, and other articles purely for internal consumption, or the inhabitants were marketing these products for trade,
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is anybody’s guess. As noted in chapter 7, the proportion of scraping tools on late prehistoric sites on the Plains and in the Southeast varies greatly. Great Bend aspect settlements in central Kansas, probably ancestral to the people who occupied Lasley Vore, contain a large percentage of scrapers. This suggests that the preparation of hides for trade had some time depth even before the Europeans increased this demand. It would also be interesting to know how and in what form the lithic material used for tools was procured and transported to this locale. This analysis has established that the Lasley Vore tool stone originated primarily in the Ozarks and secondarily in the Flint Hills. It was probably not brought to the site as already worked bifaces, because (1) the biface type constitutes only 9 percent of the assemblage; (2) bifacial reduction ®akes constitute only 21 percent of the entire ®ake debitage; and (3) less than 1 percent of the nonbiface tool types (for example, gravers, retouched ®akes, scrapers) were made on bifacial blanks. Most of the lithic material must have been brought in as nodules and tested cores—an assertion that appears counterintuitive, because only four ®ake cores were recovered from the assemblage. But this section of the Cherokee Prairie is essentially without workable tool stone, even considering the rough Oologah chert that outcrops several kilometers north of this area. This explains why these people were transporting chert from the Ozarks and Flint Hills. They were reduced to economizing their raw material by smashing their exhausted cores beyond further recognition as cores, thus resulting in an assemblage with very few of them. This behavior can also be witnessed in the high proportion (60 percent) of breakage among the type collection and utilized debris. When bifaces were transported in, they were primarily in an initial reduction stage— that is, perhaps functioning as bifacial cores as much as bifacial tools. It is interesting that there is little evidence at the site that its occupants were stockpiling lithic raw material.
What Do the Feature Clusters Represent? Ten discrete feature clusters exist at the site, of which ¤ve (C 2,4,5,7, and 8) are large enough in both quantity of features and total artifacts for statistical comparison. Ascertaining the nature of these clusters and their relationships to one another has proved valuable in interpreting the nature of the site as a whole. The goal of this part of the analysis has been to compare each of the feature clusters with one another. If differences are established, they can be interpreted in a number of ways, but let us simplify by limiting our interpretations to two scenarios, economic and social. An economic scenario views the clusters as loci of speci¤c activities or behaviors—that is, places where certain tasks were performed. To be believable, the tasks conducted in most of the clusters should be different from one another, otherwise people would have been doing similar things in each of the areas and no spatially organized economic specialization would have resulted. A social scenario identi¤es the clusters with culturally or ethnically different groups of people. Since such groups have experienced unique cultural trajectories, they can be expected to have engaged in structural or manufacturing processes that were unique to them and different from other such groups (see White and Thomas 1972; Wiessner 1983; Wobst 1977). Evidence of social distinctions depends on differences in elements such as the manufacture trajectory, style, and decorative qualities of their material culture. With respect to the lithic component, tools found in each
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cluster should have been (1) shaped differently, (2) manufactured differently, or (3) procured at different locations from tools found in other clusters. Our analyses have convincingly ruled out the latter of these scenarios. In none of the tests conducted were any typological, stylistic, or technological differences among clusters observed. In other words, whatever processes were involved in distributing the tools into their eventual depositional locations, all were made into essentially similar forms and their manufacture followed similar industrial pathways. In addition, the silicate raw materials associated with each cluster originated in the same localities and in approximately the same proportions. This result does not necessarily mean that all clusters represent the same cultural group, although this may have been the case. Alternatively, it may suggest either that labor investment in implement manufacture was not suf¤cient to yield discernible stylistic differences, or that the groups themselves, despite belonging to disparate social units, maintained a similar stone tool ®aking tradition. In other words, the lithic database may simply not be capable of indicating social distance for the midcontinental protohistoric period even among unrelated or distantly related cultural groups. In contrast, use-wear studies indicate that each of the cluster subassemblages bears a speci¤c functional pro¤le. With the exception of clusters 4 and 8, these pro¤les differ from one another. This evidence constitutes strong support for the economically based scenario discussed previously and provides a rationale for the existence of the clusters. If we entertain the proposition that the tools discovered in a speci¤c feature cluster bear a positive relationship to the prehistoric activities performed at that location, then the following relationships obtain for the Lasley Vore site. Cluster 2 was a locus of tool maintenance and the repair of hunting weaponry. Clusters 4 and 8 were domestic locales where facility or structure maintenance and vegetal (maize, nut) food preparation occurred; and cluster 4 shows an additional emphasis on scraping, though this task is abundant in all units. Cluster 5 was a woodworking area, possibly a prototype of the Cabinetmakers’ Guild. And cluster 7 was a focal point of light industry, particularly involving the retooling of projectiles and the cutting and shaving of wood and other medium-density materials.
Appendix 6 Glass Beads from a Protohistoric Wichita Indian Site in Tulsa County, Oklahoma Mary Elizabeth Good and Frieda Vereecken-Odell
LOCATIONA L DATA One hundred eighty-four glass beads were recovered from the Lasley Vore settlement. They were found in all phases of site exploration and throughout the units employed in the ¤eld (see Table A6.1). Three-quarters of the beads were taken from features, because this was the unit that received most attention and was the only unit that bene¤ted from ®otation recovery techniques. Areas and test pits yielded similar quantities (19–24), and three were recovered from the Ditch Witch trenches. An attempt was made to ascertain whether or not bead distribution favored a particular type of feature. Features were broken down into the 12 types described in chapter 5, and three indices were generated: the percentage of features that contained at least one bead; the percentage of beads found in each feature type; and the average quantity of beads per feature (see Table A6.2). In two-thirds of the feature types, 50 percent or more of the individual features in that type contained at least one bead, suggesting that beads were spread over almost all feature types. Considering the abundance of individual beads in the feature types provides slightly different, though not always useful, information. For instance, a large quantity of beads (15) was discovered in one hearth dump, yielded a whopping 7.5 beads per dump. However, given the tiny number of hearth dumps at the site (2), this result probably does not mean very much. Likewise, the three pit types interpreted as storage pits (PF, PS, PB) and the hearth pits (HP) all contained a relatively large quantity of beads—an average of at least two per pit. However, these were also the largest features on the site in sheer volume, providing relatively large holes for trash to be swept into. It is more likely that bead recovery is related to pit volume than to a speculative storage function for these pits. If pits served to store beads, then we should ¤nd bead caches and concentrations on the site, but this is not the prevailing pattern. The most beads any pit contains is 16, which hardly quali¤es as a cache. In short, all of the locational indices point to the same conclusion: beads were ultimately swept into features, resulting in small quantities in some pits and larger quantities in others. The initial function of a feature was unimportant in determining where the beads ended up.
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Table A6.1 Continued
L A H A R PE, BEA DS, A ND L ASLEY VOR E Glass beads and other historic items recovered from the Lasley Vore site indicate its occupation was earlier than most documented historic sites in Oklahoma, the majority of which date from the time of the removal of the Five Civilized Tribes from the southeastern states to Indian Territory (Oklahoma) in the 1830s. Only four other reported protohistoric village sites in Oklahoma, all occupied by the Wichita, possessed glass bead samples that date from the eighteenth century. Three of these are on tributaries of the Arkansas R iver and are located just south of the Kansas/Oklahoma border. The Deer Creek site (K A-3) dates from 1725–1750 (W. Wedel 1961:146). The Bryson-Paddock site (K A-5) is thought to date from 1720 to 1760 (Sudbury 1975:78). The Love site (K A-2) also yielded historic artifacts similar to those from Deer Creek and Bryson-Paddock, along with native cultural material (Wyckoff 1964:10). The Wichita may have established villages at some of these sites even earlier. In the case of the Deer Creek and Bryson-Paddock sites, Mildred Wedel (1981:33) believed the Wichita occupation may have occurred as early as 1716. The fourth Oklahoma Indian village where eighteenth-century glass beads have been reported is the Longest site (JF-1), on the Red R iver in Jefferson County. It ®ourished from approximately 1750 to 1800, though the beginnings and end of the occupation have not been precisely established (Bell 1984; Bell and Bastian 1967a:113–114). Lasley Vore proved to be a single component site of the protohistoric period (Odell 1989a). Among other artifacts recovered were long gun barrels and gun parts, including fragments of engraved brass butt plates, trigger guards, and ¤nials from Type C trade fusils, as classi¤ed by Ted Hamilton (1968:3–9). Fragments of similar guns have been reported from the Angola Farm, Womack, and Bryson-Paddock sites. Angola Farm is a Tunica village site in Louisiana near the mouth of the Red R iver, occupied about 1700–1740. Womack was a Norteño Focus site on the Red R iver in Lamar County, Texas, occupied by Kichai (Wichita) during the same period (Harris and Harris 1967:130). European trade items found at all of these sites are considered primarily of French origin. All of the glass beads found in these sites would have been available to French traders in the 1700s, although by this period traders from other European countries would have had access to the same varieties of beads. The beads recovered from the Lasley Vore site are typical of those brought to other Wichita sites by French traders
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of this period. The Lasley Vore site also produced fragments of iron axes and knife blades that appear, upon preliminary examination, to have been of French origin. The site also yielded other metal artifacts, such as a kettle rim fragment, lead fusil balls, and conical brass tinklers, which probably were made from kettle metal. Most of the early Indian trade in what is now Oklahoma was with the French, although, in the ¤rst quarter of the eighteenth century, there is no indication that this trade was conducted on a regular basis. Many of the traders were unlettered and consequently left no reports of what they saw. A few objects distributed under British direction might have been present on Wichita village sites in 1719. For example, while La Harpe was at the Tawakoni village, a Chickasaw Indian arrived with merchandise, probably from the Carolinas (M. Wedel 1981:35). Glass beads and gun parts recovered at the Lasley Vore site could have been among the items brought into the area in 1719 by French explorer Jean-Baptiste Bénard, Sieur de la Harpe. La Harpe wrote in his journal that when he reached the meeting site he gave the young chiefs gifts of “some muskets, powder and balls, hatchets, knives, and some ells of cloth” (Smith 1958–1959:528). He does not record that he gave away glass beads. However, beads had long been relatively plentiful in the Indian trade, and by this time may not have been of suf¤cient importance to record in a journal, in light of the relative importance of La Harpe’s other gifts. More likely, beads would have been listed in an inventory of trade goods purchased for the trip, if such an inventory existed. DESCR IP TI V E METHODS All identi¤cations were made here by Good, utilizing the identi¤cation system proposed by Kenneth E. and Martha Ann Kidd (1983:219–256). For each bead type at
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Lasley Vore, she has provided the Kidd numbers only if she was certain of the identi¤cation. In addition, she employed Lyle Stone’s (1974:88–89) terminology to indicate the type of bead construction: simple, compound, complex, and composite. Simple indicates that a bead is monochromatic and without decoration. A compound bead is of layered glass of two or more colors. Complex beads are monochrome with decorative elements—stripes, for example—inset in the bead’s surface. Composite beads have two or more layers of different colors of glass with stripes or other decorative insets in the surface of each bead. A bead is classi¤ed as transparent if its perforation is visible when it is held sideways to the light. It is considered translucent when light penetrates the bead, and opaque when it does not. A number of the beads recovered were fragmented. If a suf¤cient amount of a bead fragment was present to determine its original shape, the bead was classi¤ed as being that shape. When a bead classi¤cation was possible only because of a single fragment, the listing so states. Most of the beads discovered at the Lasley Vore site are drawn beads, which means that they were manufactured by blowing glass into a bubble, then drawing the two ends apart into a long, slender tube. After cooling, the tube was broken into small sections and tumbled to make individual beads. Decorative elements and layering were applied to this basic technique as desired. A few of the Lasley Vore beads were manufactured individually by winding a thread of molten glass around a wire, which was later extracted (Kidd and Kidd 1983:219–222). And, ¤nally, a couple beads, such as the black faceted and clear mulberry specimens, were probably formed in a mold. In the descriptions that follow, we compare the Lasley Vore beads with those from villages that traded extensively with the French during the eighteenth century, for the most part using beads described by R . K. and Inus Marie Harris (1967). Only beads from Period I sites (1700–1740) are included in the comparisons. Reference to the Wichita sites is to archaeological sites discussed in this 1967 report that appear to have been occupied by any of the groups that later coalesced into the Wichita tribe. Important protohistoric sites to which Lasley Vore beads will be compared include the following: 1. Angola Farm: a Tunica village located in West Feliciana Parish, Louisiana, near the mouth of Red R iver; occupied 1709–1729 and visited by La Harpe in 1719 (Harris and Harris 1967:129–160; Quimby 1942:543–551). 2. Womack: a Kichai village on the south side of the Red R iver in Lamar County, Texas (Harris et al. 1965:307–315). 3. Fish Hatchery: an early-eighteenth-century Natchitoches Indian village in Louisiana, visited by La Harpe in 1719 (Gregory and Webb 1965:21–24; Harris and Harris 1967:129–160). 4. Rosborough Lake: near Texarkana, Texas, dated 1719–1780; site of La Harpe’s post, Fort St. Louis de Kadohadacho (Miroir et al. 1973:131–137). 5. Bayou Goula: Iberville Parish, Louisiana, occupied from 1699 to 1706 by the Bayougoula, Taensa, and Mugulasla (Quimby 1942:543–551). 6. Los Adaes: Natchitoches Parish, Louisiana; occupied by Adai Indians in the ¤rst half of the eighteenth century (Gregory and Webb 1965:28–33). 7. Southern Compress: Natchitoches Parish, Louisiana; occupied by Natchitoches Indians, 1714–1803 (Gregory and Webb 1965:16–21). 8. Lawton: an eighteenth-century Natchitoches Indian village site, Natchitoches Parish, Louisiana (Gregory and Webb 1965:24–27).
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9. Fatherland: Natchez Indian site near Natchez, Mississippi; occupied 1682–1730 (Quimby 1942:543–551, 1966:192–196). 10. Bryson-Paddock: a Wichita village site in Kay County, Oklahoma (Hartley and Miller 1977:110–112). In addition, I am including the Deer Creek site (also known as Ferdinandina and/or the Miller site), two miles south of the Bryson-Paddock site (Sudbury 1975:48–65), and the Guebert site, a Kaskaskia Indian village in southern Illinois. The Guebert site was occupied from 1719 to 1833, but in this instance beads from the site are limited to those thought to date from 1719 to about 1760 (Good 1972). Also noted are beads from Western Great Lakes sites, 1670–1760; Fort St. Joseph in Michigan, 1700–1770; and Fort Michilimackinac, 1715–1781 (from material interpreted as French; Stone 1970:268–359). Of the beads from the Lasley Vore site (see Figure 6.5), more than two-thirds are opaque, white glass beads of simple, drawn construction. Overall, olive-shaped beads are the most common. The following descriptions do not name speci¤c beads by site acquisition number, but are meant to present an overview of the relative amounts of types and methods of construction present on the site. L ASLEY VOR E BEA D DESCR IP TIONS
Drawn Beads of Simple Construction 1. Opaque white, olive-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd:IIa15; 66 beads, 13 fragments Present at Roseborough Lake; Bryson-Paddock type 2, 5 specimens; Deer Creek type 1, 1 specimen and 1 fragmentary specimen; Womack; Southern Compress; Los Adaes; Fatherland; Guebert site, type 96, 73 specimens; at Fort Michilimackinac, 421 whole beads and 688 in a molten or semimolten state (from French-interpreted artifacts); common in the Western Great Lakes 2. Opaque, white, barrel-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa15; 12 beads Present in Western Great Lakes; Deer Creek, type 9, 2 specimens; Bryson-Paddock, type 4, 3 specimens; and Guebert site, type 104, 3 specimens 3. Opaque, white, round bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa13; 4 beads Deer Creek, 2 specimens; Bryson-Paddock, type 3, 3 specimens; Guebert, type 106, 27 specimens and 7 fragments; Western Great Lakes; Fort Michilimackinac, 56 specimens; Lawton site; other Wichita sites, type 3; and Natchitoches, 9 specimens 4. Opaque, white donut-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa14; 3 beads Present at Deer Creek; Guebert, type 115, 1 specimen 5. Opaque, white tubular bead; tumbled; 2 beads Guebert, type 103, 3 specimens 6. Transparent royal blue, olive-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd II42; 3 beads, 2 fragments Present at Deer Creek; other Wichita sites, type 13; Guebert, type 56, 57 specimens 7. Transparent, dark blue, olive-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa49; 3 beads Deer Creek, 1 specimen; Bryson-Paddock, type 13, 1 specimen 8. Translucent, dark blue, donut-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa41; 1 bead Bryson-Paddock, type 77, 1 specimen; Guebert site, type 60, 20 specimens; Wichita sites, type 48 9. Translucent dark blue, barrel-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa41; 2 beads Present in the Wichita sites in 1740, and at Guebert, type 59, 15 specimens
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10. Opaque, dark blue, round bead; tumbled; Kidd lIa49; 2 beads Present at Fort St. Joseph and Fatherland 11. Opaque dark blue-gray, olive-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd II42; 6 beads Two beads are ¤re-calcined almost white, though the blue color shows through. Present in the Western Great Lakes, Fort St. Joseph, and Fatherland; Guebert, type 66, 4 specimens. (Note: R . K. Harris [personal communication 1970] said this bead is the same color and type of glass as in Wichita type 47, a garter bead; however, an olive-shaped bead of that color had not yet been recovered from Wichita sites) 12. Opaque, dark turquoise blue, olive-shaped bead; tumbled; 1 fragment Guebert, type 88, 3 specimens; present in Wichita sites, type 12 13. Opaque, turquoise blue, donut-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa37; 3 beads, 2 fragments Present in the Wichita sites, type 10 14. Opaque, dark turquoise blue, donut-shaped bead; tumbled; 2 beads Darker than Kidd IIa37; ends of beads are ground; present at Guebert 15. Translucent dark turquoise, olive-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa32; 1 bead Present in the Western Great Lakes and Fatherland; Wichita sites, type 12 16. Opaque, dark blue, donut-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa55; 1 bead 17. Opaque, dark blue, olive-shaped bead; tumbled; 1 bead 18. Translucent green, olive-shaped bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa29; 2 beads 19. Opaque black, barrel-shaped bead; tumbled; 1 bead
Drawn Beads of Compound Construction 20. Transparent white-over-opaque white, donut-shaped bead; tumbled; 2 beads; Kidd IVa14 Deer Creek, 1 specimen; Guebert, type 107a, 918 specimens; at Bryson-Paddock site and in other Wichita sites, type 5
Drawn Beads of Complex Construction 21. Opaque white, olive-shaped bead; three blue stripes, equally spaced apart, are inlaid parallel to the axis of the bead; tumbled; 3 beads Present in the Western Great Lakes; Fish Hatchery, type 13, 32 specimens; at other Wichita sites, type 21 22. Opaque white, barrel-shaped bead fragment; four blue stripes, equally spaced apart, are inlaid parallel to the main axis; tumbled; 2 fragments 23. Transparent emerald green, donut-shaped bead with eight white stripes parallel to the axis of the bead; tumbled; 1 bead Present at Guebert, type 147, 2 specimens; Fort Michilimackinac; Southern Compress, type 14, 1 specimen; at other Wichita sites, type 29 24. Transparent royal blue fragment of a donut-shaped bead with four white stripes parallel to the axis of the bead; tumbled; an unbroken specimen has eight white stripes; Kidd IIb53; 1 bead Present in Wichita sites, type 34; and in the Western Great Lakes 25. Opaque, very light blue-gray bead fragment that originally had three sets of three Wedgewood Blue stripes parallel to the axis of the bead; tumbled; K idd IIb28; 3 beads Present in the Wichita sites, type 23 26. Opaque white, olive-shaped bead; three sets of three Wedgewood Blue stripes are parallel to the axis of the bead; tumbled; Kidd IIb26; 5 beads
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Present in the Western Great Lakes; Guebert, type 140, 12 specimens; Fish Hatchery; type 13, 32 specimens; and in other Wichita sites, type 20 27. Opaque, white, barrel-shaped bead fragment with one gray-blue stripe; tumbled; 1 bead. The complete bead may have had two or three additional gray stripes 28. Opaque blue-gray, olive-shaped bead with three sets of stripes parallel to the axis of the bead. In each set, a red stripe has a white stripe on either side; tumbled; Kidd IIbb26; 1 bead Present in the Wichita sites, type 30 29. Opaque, white, olive-shaped shaped bead with three sets of Wedgewood Blue stripes that spiral the length of the bead; tumbled; twisted; Kidd IIb7; 2 beads Present in the Wichita sites, type 26; Fatherland; Guebert, type 138, 3 specimens and 1 fragment; and in the Western Great Lakes 30. Opaque, white bead fragment with remnants of three sets of stripes visible. It appears that this bead had four sets of stripes parallel to the axis of the bead. In each set, a white stripe has a light blue stripe on each side; 1 fragment
Drawn Beads of Composite Construction 31. Opaque white, olive-shaped bead with a pale blue-gray core; 3 beads This bead has three sets of three Wedgewood blue stripes parallel with the axis of the bead; tumbled; Kidd IIIb Guebert, type 138, 8 specimens; Western Great Lakes; Deer Creek, 202 specimens; and in other Wichita sites 32. Opaque white, tubular bead with a pale blue-gray core. This bead has three sets of three Wedgewood blue stripes parallel with the axis of the bead; tumbled; 1 bead Present at Guebert, type 140; Fish Hatchery, type 15, 57 specimens 33. Opaque white, olive-shaped bead with a pale blue-gray core. This bead has three sets of three royal Wedgewood blue stripes that spiral the length of the bead; tumbled; twisted; 2 beads Guebert, type 138 and 138a, 4 specimens; Western Great Lakes; Fort St. Joseph; Los Adaes, 2, 1 specimen; and at other Wichita sites, type 26 34. Opaque, pale blue-gray, olive-shaped bead fragment with a white core and three sets of three blue stripes parallel with the axis of the bead; 1 fragment
Embroidery Beads and Other Small Beads 35. Small, opaque white round bead of simple, drawn construction; tumbled; 3 beads This bead is larger than an embroidery, or so-called seed bead, and is sometimes called a pony bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa11 Dating to 1670–1760, it is considered diagnostic in the Western Great Lakes, type 106, 55 specimens; Guebert, type 107a, 27 specimens; Fort Michilimackinac, type Cl, SA, T3, Va; Lawton, type 9, 2 specimens; in the Wichita sites, type 44 36. Small, opaque black donut-shaped bead of simple, drawn construction; tumbled. Like 32, this bead is larger than an embroidery (seed) bead; Kidd IIa7; 1 bead Guebert, type 169, 2 specimens; Fort Michilimackinac, 252 specimens; and in the Wichita sites, type 50 37. Opaque blue-green embroidery (seed) bead; tumbled; 3 beads Beads of this size are also sometimes called garter beads Present in Western Great Lakes, Fatherland, Fort St. Joseph; Guebert, type 92, 17 specimens; Fort Michilimackinac, Type Cl, SA, T1, Vf, 1 specimen; in the Wichita sites, type 46
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38. Opaque, dark navy blue embroidery bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa; 1 bead Present in the Wichita sites, type 44 39. Opaque, white embroidery bead; tumbled; Kidd IIa; 4 beads Present in the Wichita sites, type 50
Wound Beads of Simple Construction 40. Opaque, grass green, olive-shaped bead; 1 bead 41. Transparent, emerald green, olive-shaped bead; Kidd Wlc; 1 bead 42. Transparent, colorless, olive-shaped bead; Kidd W1c1; 1 bead 43. Transparent, ultramarine, olive-shaped bead; 1 bead 44. Transparent, colorless, round bead that assumes an orange hue when held to the light, much like milk glass does; Kidd W1b1, 1 bead, 1 fragment Present in the Western Great Lakes; Guebert, type 54, 2 specimens; Fort Michilimackinac, 87 specimens; Fish Hatchery, type 7, 34 specimens; Wichita sites, type 53 45. Transparent, royal blue, olive-shaped bead; 1 bead 46. Opaque, white, olive-shaped bead; 1 bead
Wire-Wound Beads Altered While in a Plastic State 47. Opaque black pressed, faceted bead with eight surfaces; Kidd WIIc1; 1 bead This bead type is present in many sites of this period in blue, amber, shades of translucent maroon so dark as to appear black, and translucent and transparent colorless beads; however, a true opaque black specimen is rare 48. Transparent, colorless “mulberry,” sometimes called a raspberry bead; 1 bead. It has the appearance of hobnail glass. The nodes have a random pattern and the bead surface is somewhat frosted in appearance; Kidd WIId1 Present in Western Great Lakes, Fort St. Joseph, Fatherland site, and Angola Farm; Guebert, type 26, 9 specimens; Fort Michilimackinac, 68 specimens recovered in areas of French occupation, 1690–1730; Southern Compress, type 8, 13 specimens
Appendix 7 Metal Artifacts from the Lasley Vore Site Mary Elizabeth Good, Lee Good, and George H. Odell
Several pieces of metal attributable to an early European presence in eastern Oklahoma were recovered from the Lasley Vore site. As recorded in Table 6.9, metals were unearthed from every type of unit delineated during the excavation: features, test pits, areas, Ditch Witch trenches, and especially metal detector units. The presence of 21 metal objects contained in features demonstrates the intimate association between objects of Native American and European manufacture at this settlement. The metal was discovered in a large variety of feature types (see Table 6.10)— probably ultimately swept as trash into holes previously used for cooking or storage. More detail on the provenience of each of the metal items discovered is provided in Table A7.1. Because the association of metal objects with speci¤c feature types is of potential interest, this association is documented in Table A7.2. A glance at this table indicates that there was no preference for any type of material object to land in any speci¤c type of feature; the objects were swept indiscriminately into whichever hole happened to be nearby. The purpose of this appendix is to provide descriptive information on the metal artifacts recovered from the Lasley Vore site. We have classi¤ed these items into gun parts, tools/weapons, and utensils/miscellaneous. Lee Good, director of the J. M. Davis Gun Museum in Claremore, made every attempt to conserve these objects, but in some cases they were already too weathered to be adequately preservable. Most of the collection, however, is still in pretty good shape. GU N PA RTS A number of the gun parts recovered from the Lasley Vore site are similar to others that have been identi¤ed as being in the French trade in this country from 1680 to 1730 (Hamilton 1980:3). These are the only items from the site that can positively be identi¤ed as having been brought by traders from a speci¤c country. In the case of beads, for example, it is not possible to assign them de¤nitively to the French or English trade, because, by this time, the same bead types were available to explorers from both countries. Gun part identi¤cation provides the most positive evidence that artifacts recovered at the Lasley Vore site could have been brought there by the Bénard de la Harpe expedition in 1719. The term fusil ¤n was used by T. M. Hamilton (1980:8) to identify a French smooth bore long gun of superior quality. Today, simply the word fusil is used to indicate such a ¤rearm. Good discussions and illustrations of gun parts are contained in Hamilton (1980) and Harris et al. (1965).
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Table A7.1 Continued
Barrels (6): Of the six barrels recovered from Lasley Vore, the most complete is octangular in cross-section and still retains its breech piece. It is 40 cm long and 3 cm in diameter at the breech. The other examples are more fragmented, and a couple show ®attening and percussion marks from their use as pounding implements after their initial utility as guns had waned. Triggers (2): The example from Test Pit 1 contains a hole for attachment, but the top part that extends laterally from the trigger itself is broken off (see Figure 6.9). Trigger Plate (1): This is a rectangular iron piece with an elongated hole through which the trigger was placed. 58 mm × 8 mm. Trigger Guards (9): Several different parts of trigger guards exist in the Lasley Vore assemblage; all were probably made of brass, though no detailed analysis of metal type has been attempted. The specimen from Feature 6 (see Figure 6.6, left) consists of the entire bow and part of the rear tang. It was engraved with a simple chevrolet design that occurs on both Type C (1680–1730) and Type D (1730–1765) trade guns (Hamilton 1980:29–31). Another bow portion was recovered from Metal Detector Unit 5 (M-5). It was also engraved with a simple chevrolet design, but has been ®attened to the point that no curvature remains (see Figure 6.6, center). The front part of the trigger guard is attached to the gun stock by a squaredoff insert containing a lateral hole, known as the tongue (illustrated in pieces from the Womack site: Harris et al. 1965:Figure 12B, E, F). An example from feature 28 consists of only this tongue, a small portion of the front ¤nial that snuggles up against the gun stock, and the very distal end of the bow itself. An example of a ¤nial, that part that extends along the stock forward of the tongue, was unearthed from Test Pit (TP) 10. It was engraved in a potted plant, acanthus leaf, or ®aming torch pattern, common in Type C trade guns (see further comments on this pattern for the butt plate ¤nial from feature 69). Pieces of the rear tang are represented by examples found in M-25 (48 mm × 13 mm) and TP 4 (26 mm × 12 mm). The ends of both pieces are broken, both contain the interior hook that kept the tang in place, and the surfaces on both are ®at. Also probably part of the rear tang but lacking the hook is a broken
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piece from M-44 (23 mm × 18 mm). Its ®at interior surface still bears deep ¤ling striae from manufacture, whereas its more ¤nished outer surface is slightly convex (see Figure 6.6, lower center). Side Plates (2): On trade guns of this era, a brass decorative element known as a side plate was usually fastened to the stock opposite the lock plate. The example from M-20 is two-thirds of a brass side plate (see Figures 6.6, 6.7). The center monster mask is intact, but the decoration to its left is missing. Above the mask is a round hole for attachment of the piece. In the center of this fragment is a smaller monster pro¤le. This piece is similar in design to two from Paris, France, and Angers, dated to 1670 (Lenk 1965:Plate 74, no. 7). Another small portion of side plate, recovered from feature 6 (see Figure 6.6, upper right), was of cast brass in an oval shape. The edges have an elevated rim. This specimen compares to one from the Deer Creek site in Kay County, Oklahoma, and appears to be from a Type B or C French trade gun (Sudbury 1975: 27,30). Hamilton (1980:33–35) pictures similar Type C side plates from the Angola Farm site, Louisiana, and the Fletcher site on the Bay City, Michigan, lakefront. Thumb Plate Escutcheon (1): This piece was inset at the top of the gun stock, where the thumb would ordinarily rest. The specimen from TP 13 of the Lasley Vore site is 40 mm long by 20 mm wide (see Figure 6.6, right). Its convex exterior surface is engraved with a lion’s mask, also called an owl face. A solid cylindrical peg is molded onto the concave interior surface for attachment to the
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gun stock. This is the ¤rst escutcheon to be found with a Type C French trade gun (Hamilton 1980:33). Two others from the French period were found at Fort Michilimackinac (Hamilton 1980:87B). Front Sight (1): Excavated in TP 11, this 25 mm long rectangular brass piece consists of a sighting mechanism with a round hole mounted on a thin, 12 mm wide platform that ¤ts around the front of the gun barrel (see Figure 6.9). Butt Plates (2): The butt plate is located at the end of the stock, where it rests against the shoulder. The specimen from M-27 is a fragment from a Type C French trade gun. Hamilton (1980:32) pictures a specimen found at a Tunica Indian village site at Angola Farm, Louisiana. Known to have been supplied by French traders during the early eighteenth century, the site is dated to 1700–1740 (Harris and Harris 1967:130). The item from Lasley Vore has two parallel engraved lines running down each side of the convex exterior surface, intersected at right angles by an incised line at the smaller broken end. Interesting features of this piece are wear marks at the ®aring convex end. Heavy striations perpendicular to this edge suggest that it was employed as a scraping tool after it was broken off the gun (see Figure 6.6). Another specimen, from feature 69, is a brass ¤nial and tang of a butt plate from a Type C ®intlock trade gun or fusil of French manufacture (see Figure 6.6). This ¤nial design has been called a potted plant, an acanthus leaf, and a ®aming torch; the design may have been derived from the French grenadier’s insignia of the 1680–1730 period (Hamilton 1980:28–33). Specimens of Type C gun parts illustrated by Hamilton were recovered from Angola Farm (which was on La Harpe’s route), Fort Michilimackinac, and the Guebert site, an eighteenthcentury Kaskaskia Indian village in southern Illinois whose occupants were trading with the French (Good 1972:140–141). Pistol Butt (1): This is an oval, brass ornament for the butt of a pistol, measuring 26 mm at the longest part of the oval (see Figure 6.8). Attached to the middle at the back is a 3 cm long ®at rod for insertion into the pistol handle. The decoration is a monster mask that is not documented exactly in any of the sources with which we are familiar. It is closest in style to designs illustrated in Lenk (1965:Plate 80, no. 6 or 7), which are French designs dated to 1688–1694. Frizzen Spring (1): The frizzen spring is the mechanism that activates the iron frizzen when the gun is cocked. The frizzen is the object that the ®int in the cock strikes, causing a shower of sparks, igniting powder in the ®ash pan, and ultimately setting off the charge in the barrel. This spring, which contains a hole for attachment to the lock plate, doubles back on itself. In the doubled-back position, it measures 45 mm long by 10 mm wide (see Figure 6.9). Sear (1): The sear is a device in the ®intlock mechanism that connects with the tumbler and ultimately with the main spring in activating the cock. The Lasley Vore specimen is right-angled and broken at the attachment hole (see Figure 6.9) Cock or Hammer (1): This cock is relatively complete, about 75 mm long (see Figure 6.9). It preserves the round base with hole for attachment, the bottom support for the gun®int, and the comb that extends upward and provides a ¤tting for the top jaw.
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Top Jaw for Cock (2): The cock provides a device that holds the gun®int between two surfaces. The bottom surface is the broad, ®attened lateral extension of the upward-trending cock, which is fastened on the bottom to the lock plate. The top surface is called the top jaw and is fastened to the cock by a vise screw. The Lasley Vore specimens are roughly circular and both contain the hole for the vise screw; the more complete example measures 26 mm × 23 mm (see Figure 6.9). Musket Balls (3): Made of lead, one of these is still round; the other two are misshapen from contact. All could have been ¤red from a smooth-bore gun (a fusil, in La Harpe’s time), or through a ri®ed barrel. TOOL S/W EA PONS Iron Awl (1): This is a ®at piece of scrap iron, 74 mm long by 40 mm wide. After the piece had lost whatever utility it initially had, its sides were indented by pounding, probably for ease of manipulating the pointed end as an awl. This designation is the tool’s last use, not its ¤rst. Iron Ring (1): This is a very thin, circular iron ring with a diameter of 15 mm. Ax Blades (4): The only ax head from Lasley Vore that retained its socket, the specimen from M-21 had a very long use-life. The discarded piece consists of a socket that is about 6 cm long and a blade that is only 4 cm long. In other words, the tool was utilized and resharpened so often that it was eventually utilized as much as it possibly could be before ¤nally being discarded. Width at the widest part of the socket is 48 mm; width of the bit is 65 mm. The sockets on the other three ax heads broke at some point in their use-lives. The specimen found at M-14 suffered its breakage early on, as its remaining bit is quite wide (105 mm)—that is, sharpening had reduced its width very little from the original trade item. It broke only 70 mm from the bit and far away from the socket, possibly because it is only 8 mm thick or less. The tool from M-9 broke at the socket, as portions of that structure are still extant. But the tool broke relatively early in its use-life, because the blade has not been affected too much by wear or sharpening. Its proximal end, however, has been pounded subsequent to the breakage of the eye for use of the remaining implement as a wedge. The remaining piece is 120 mm long by 85 mm wide at the bit. Similarly, the socket on the ax head from M-39 broke before the tool had achieved its full utility, and portions of the socket remain. Some evidence of pounding exists at the broken proximal end for use as a wedge. Length of piece is 110 mm, width at bit is 85 mm (see Figure 6.10). Dagger Handle Guard (1): This piece, which ¤ts between the blade and grip of a sword and serves as handle guard, is sometimes known as a quillen. The Lasley Vore specimen is 60 mm long, but both of its extending arms have been broken off (see Figure 6.11). The center piece that ¤ts onto the grip is 13 mm wide with a squarish hole for the insertion of the handle. It is decorated with large lateral grooves. Knives/Razor Blades (7): Some of the examples from Lasley Vore have weathered poorly and have broken apart or exfoliated to some extent. One of the
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best-preserved specimens, excavated in TP 10, is 65 mm long. Its proximal end retains a tang for insertion into a handle, while its distal end now has a lateral curve to it, probably a postmanufacture development. A similar piece, from feature 62, also retains its tang. It is 118 mm long and 19 mm wide at its widest point next to the tang. These are similar to items from the Longest site on the Red R iver, illustrated in Harris and Harris (1967:162; Figure 54o,p). The specimen found at M-29 is triangular in cross-section and has a constant blade width. Measuring 75 mm × 12 mm, it was probably a straight razor blade (see Figure 6.11). UTENSIL S/MISCELL A NEOUS Spoon Handle (2): Both of these iron handles are recognizable by their globular or spatulate ends, though both broke at the thinner part of the handle. One is 40 mm long; the other, 70 mm long and 18 mm at the widest portion near its proximal end (see Figure 6.11). Kettle Part (1): This is a rectangular fragment of an iron kettle from which all sides are broken. It measures 95 mm × 66 mm × 7 mm. Horseshoe (1): About a third of this light iron horseshoe remains. It is curved like a modern horseshoe and is 120 mm long, but it is only 11 mm wide. Pot Rim/Fragment (2): One of these fragments is part of a rim of a heavy iron pot; the other is a fragment from somewhere in the middle of the pot. Nail/Spike (6): These specimens are between 40 mm and 65 mm long. One is an octagonal iron nail, another is part of a square-head nail. Staple (1): This 2-pronged iron staple is 45 mm long and about 18 mm near its bend. Tinkling Cones (13): Tinklers, or tinkling cones, were formed of scrap brass or copper and attached to garments to make a soft, tinkling sound when the wearer moved (see Figure 6.11). Metal was cut into isosceles trapezoidal or isosceles triangular sections and rolled into cones. A thong of fringe was pushed through the small end of the cone and knotted, then the cone was drawn down over the knot (Good 1972:87). Tinkling cones could also be suspended from a hollow metal bead, attached to a thin wire ring, and worn as earrings. There is evidence that, in some southeastern locales, tinkling cones were made not onthe-spot by local denizens, but manufactured for trade by entrepreneurs (Smith 1987:36–37; Waselkov 1993:124). Although no evidence for rivets, patches, or other repairing mechanisms have been discerned from the Lasley Vore copper and brass assemblage, a couple of pieces have small holes bored in them that may have been so used. Given the obvious early contact context of this material, we would be surprised if tinklers had not been fashioned on-the-spot from worn-out kettles. There is nothing unique or noteworthy about the tinkling cones discovered at Lasley Vore. Button (1): Thin and round, this brass piece measures 17 mm in diameter. Its slightly concave surface is smooth, while the center of the opposite convex surface appears to have exfoliated, as in a pot lid from overheating.
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Iron Rod (5): One of these objects is more of a ®attened strip than a rod, but it appears to have been forged. Brass Flat Pieces (9): Several of these could have been made into tinkling cones—perhaps they were, for all we know. Brass Indeterminate (10): Most of these pieces were also ®at and were potential tinkler material. At least two had small holes drilled or punched in them, which may have been for kettle repair. Iron Indeterminate (17): Some of the thinner pieces may have been knife blades, but they are weathered or broken up and it is hard to tell. The heavier pieces were probably originally parts of iron pots. One curved piece may originally have been a gun barrel.
Appendix 8 Radiocarbon Dates George H. Odell
The dating of the Lasley Vore remains by radiometric techniques was considered necessary to aid our comprehension of chronological relationships. The most useful unit for dating was the feature, an entity that existed below the plow zone and had undergone little apparent disturbance since creation and deposition. The purpose of dating the features was twofold: (1) to re¤ne our knowledge of the site’s period of occupation; and (2) to establish whether the sampled features—and, by extension, the clusters in which they occurred—were contemporaneous. In February 1989, six samples were submitted to the Radiocarbon Laboratory of the Institute for the Study of Earth and Man, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, Texas (see Table A8.1). On the advice of Dr. Herbert Haas, director of the laboratory, large samples were accumulated in order to procure the smallest possible standard deviation in the resulting date. Only charcoal was submitted. Since certain features at the site yielded large quantities of charcoal, it was relatively easy to ¤nd six of them that would (1) contain enough charcoal to ensure a date with a small sigma (standard deviation); (2) provide wide coverage of feature clusters and overall spatial distribution; and (3) contain clear associations with Native American and European artifacts. Accordingly, the following features were selected for sampling; artifact associations have been taken from the original inventory and should be seen only as an approximation. Charcoal samples were collected in the ¤eld in aluminum foil, then carefully picked through in the laboratory to eliminate rootlets and other contaminants. They were submitted for genus (or at least family) determination to a botanist, who sorted different vegetal types with tweezers and (usually) weighed them separately. The parts of those samples to be shipped to the radiocarbon lab were then placed in new polyethylene bags and labeled. Charcoal was collected, and subsequently submitted, from all levels of the features, since no internal stratigraphy was apparent. The nature and quantity of samples that were sent to the SMU laboratory are listed in Table A8.2. The results of the radiocarbon assays are reported in Table A8.3. They have been corrected for fractionation and calculated with the Libby half-life of 5,568 years. The stable isotope ratio is indicated in permil deviations from the Belemnite limestone standard. Considerable effort has been made within the scienti¤c community to provide accurate calibrations for radiocarbon dates by dating samples of dendrochronologically determined wood (K lein et al. 1982; Stuiver and Kra 1980). In one attempt, Stuiver and Pearson (1986) compared calibrated dates with radiocarbon age through a series of graphs. These calibrations were employed by Haas in reporting the results
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of the SMU determinations of the Lasley Vore samples. Table A8.4 depicts the weighted average of the calibrated distribution, median age, and con¤dence limits for each sample (Hassan and Robinson 1987). The graphs depict a serious problem with interpreting radiocarbon dates that include ranges within the last 300 years. That is, the calibration curve does not simply increase in years bp from its recent boundary of ad 1950. Instead, it rises and falls around some imaginary horizontal mean until about ad 1700, when it increases sharply to join the rest of the curve. This phenomenon has the unfortunate effect that any radiocarbon date within the past 300 years is likely to intersect the calibra-
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tion curve four to ¤ve times. In such a situation it is probably not valid to accept a point estimate, which is, in effect, a weighted average of the probability distribution. It is as likely that the correct curve intercept is relatively far from this average as it is close to it. Choosing which of these intersections is the most probably correct is a matter of interpretation on the basis of archaeological context and associated artifactual material. The most meaningful way to present the dates is not by point averages or intersects, but by calibrated age ranges and their relative area under a probability distribution. The data shown in Table A8.5 have been computed with the program “Calib,” written by M. Stuiver and P. J. Reimer (1986, Quaternary Isotope Laboratory, University of Washington). All dates presented here are ad, because this method is easier to interpret. These dates all record the expected prehistoric range of occupation, based on artifact content. That is, the late Native American artifact styles (for example, Fresno points, pottery, bison scapula hoes) agree with the French trade goods to bracket a period of occupation between La Harpe’s visit in 1719 and the Wichitas’ forced migration south of the Red R iver in about the 1750s. In all cases the one standard deviation date range includes this interval, although that range begins in 1722–23 for samples 1, 2, and 4. The 20-year probability curves for each sample provided by Haas but not reproduced here are consistent in portraying increased probabilities (a peak in the distribution graph) in the interval of the late seventeenth and ¤rst half
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of the eighteenth centuries. Later peaks, notably those registered in samples 3, 5, and 6, apparently record the intersection of the radiocarbon determinations with the later wiggles in the calibration curves. Nothing about these dates contradicts the chronological assessments based on artifact content. Although all of these radiocarbon dates document the period indicated by the artifacts, they are no more speci¤c than the artifacts. Thus radiocarbon assays are not capable of re¤ning our knowledge of site occupation to a greater extent than that already provided by other sources. They do, however, offer compelling support for the argument of contemporaneity. We will probably never know the exact tem-
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poral parameters of the site or whether or not its inhabitants occupied it continually, but the radiocarbon dates indicate that the six features dated—and, by extension, the ¤ve clusters with which they were associated—were all created within the past 300 years. This is important evidence supporting the argument that Lasley Vore was a single component site.
Appendix 9 Statistical Analyses George H. Odell
This appendix offers some detail about the statistical analyses conducted to buttress the arguments put forth in chapter 7. Most of the argumentation is left for that chapter, but some observations concerning the operation of the tests are offered here. R EGR ESSION A NA LYSES OF FEATUR E SIZE Linear regression seeks to express a relationship between two interval variables by constructing a best-¤t straight line for which the sum of squares of all the residuals is least (Blalock 1972:362–393; Drennan 1996:203–225; Schroeder et al. 1986; Thomas 1976:264–291). In this case I wished to know if there was a relationship at Lasley Vore between the size of a feature and the amount of a particular material class contained within it. The independent variable was feature size (area × depth); the dependent variable was the quantity of pottery, shell, lithic debris, deer bone, or beads contained in the feature. The results of these assays are presented in Table A9.1. The results fail to con¤rm any signi¤cant relationship between feature size and quantity of artifacts for any of the material classes tested. In no case is the correlation 2 coef¤cient (r) or coef¤cient of determination (r ) very large, and the signi¤cance of the F-statistic never even approaches 0.10. CHI-SQUAR E EVA LUATIONS OF FEATUR E T Y PES Feature function has been divided into 12 categories, mostly hearths and pits. The question to be tested is whether feature function bears a signi¤cant relationship to any material class. For example, is there a propensity for, say, beads to have been discarded in bell-shaped storage pits? To investigate this question, a series of chisquare tests (Blalock 1972:275–287; Drennan 1996:187–201; Thomas 1976:264–291) was run. The basic data employed in these tests is provided in Table A9.2. For the chi-square tests, all of the large pits that appear to have served as storage facilities (PF, PS, PB) were combined and tested against basin-shaped pits (PC), hearth pits (HP), and any other feature types that contained enough material to safely evaluate without violating statistical assumptions. That is, I required every cell in a contingency table to possess an expected frequency of at least ¤ve (Blalock 1972:285), even though more recent statistical texts written by archaeologists are not as stringent as this (Drennan 1996:197; Thomas 1976:298). These feature categories were compared ¤rst to materials of similar composition, hence pottery frequency and weight; the two lithic debris categories and retouched tools; and shell weight and
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faunal frequency. They were then compared with mixed material classes. The results are summarized in Table A9.3. Although these evaluations show differences in every test to at least the .001 level of signi¤cance, they are not as robust as might ¤rst appear, because sample sizes are quite large overall. Because of the nature of the test, with large enough sample sizes even minute differences easily achieve statistical signi¤cance (Drennan 1996:195). PR INCIPA L COMPONENTS A NA LYSIS OF FEATUR E T Y PES An alternative method of analyzing the relationships between the assessed functions of the features and their contents is principal components analysis: “Principal components analysis is a statistical technique that linearly transforms an original set of variables into a substantially smaller set of uncorrelated variables that represents most of the information in the original set of variables. Its goal is to reduce the dimensionality of the original data set” (Dunteman 1989:7). This method is one of several types of factor analysis (Kim and Mueller 1978a, 1978b) whose principal operating procedure is to reduce a suite of variables to a much smaller series of factors that capture the variability inherent in those variables. For this problem only the ¤rst factor was used in an attempt to reduce the problem to manageable proportions. Although considering only the ¤rst factor relinquishes information that might be derived from factors extracted subsequently, the ¤rst factor contains the largest share of variability in the data set. Since our purpose is to derive a fundamental pro¤le of the feature types, use of the ¤rst factor was considered suf¤cient. The most relevant pieces of information for our problem are factor loadings, which indicate the relative contribution of each variable to each factor extracted. The analysis presented here was generated through the Statistical Package for the Social Sciences (SPSS), using Varimax Rotation (SPSS 1990:182–196). The feature types, percentage of variability represented by the ¤rst factor, and the variable loadings that contributed most to the factor are presented in Table A9.4. This study provides a picture of these feature types different from that portrayed
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through the chi-square analysis. For instance, for those entities considered storage pits (PF, PS, PB), pottery weight is a more important constituent than lithic debris, though noncortex ®akes ¤gure prominently in two of the pit types. Beads are an important component of this factor for ®at-bottomed pits but not for the other two, and bison or deer (but usually not both) are also important contributors. Fire pits (HP) have their highest factor loadings for beads, but are also high on deer, shell, and both types of lithic debris. Composition of this factor for basin-shaped pits (PC) is more restricted than for the other types, as it is de¤ned primarily on the size of the pit and on its lithic debris. Irregularly shaped pits (PI), for which this factor emphasizes pottery, lithic debitage, and deer bones, appear most similar to the storage pit complex in this regard. If this all seems pretty arcane, that is because distinctions are dif¤cult to perceive. Differences in the results of these two statistical algorithms (chi-square and principal components analysis) are caused by the complexity of variable interactions, as well as by differences in what the algorithms are testing. Chi-square compares groups and variable states on raw frequencies, whereas principal components analysis works through a correlation matrix from which it weights variables according to how much each contributes to the overall variability of the data set. A NA LYSIS OF FEATUR E CLUSTER S The Lasley Vore features have been separated into 10 visually discernible clusters. As with feature type, the relation between cluster and material class would be useful to know. For example, from which part of the site do most of the turtle bones come? The principal data for answering questions of this kind are provided in Table A9.5. The ¤ve largest feature clusters (C2, 4, 5, 7, 8) were compared on the same suite of material classes as were the feature types. Similar material categories were com-
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pared ¤rst, then mixed material classes. The results are contained in Table A9.6; discussion of these results occurs in the main text and is not attempted here. We noted previously that a signi¤cant chi-square result is not particularly enlightening with very large sample sizes, so the signi¤cance level of these tests has been downplayed. To achieve a more accurate appraisal of the strength of the associations than chi-square is able to provide, multiple analysis of variance (MANOVA) tests (Iversen and Norpoth 1976) were run using the principal feature clusters (C2, 4, 5, 7, 8) as independent variables and combinations of dependent variables similar to those that were employed in the chi-square tests. As with chi-square tests, entities of similar material classes were run ¤rst, followed by mixed classes. Table A9.7 shows the relevant results of the tests run on mixed material classes, tests that one would expect to have the greatest probability of exhibiting signi¤cant differences among the clusters. Only one of the multivariate measures, the Wilks statistic, is shown in the table, since all of the measures employed by the SPSS program (including Pillais, Hotellings, and Roys statistics) produced similar results. The results of univariate F-tests are useful in interpreting the differential distributions of each of the variables included in the analysis. The MANOVA tests show that differences certainly exist among clusters, but in no instance are these signi¤cant at the .05 level. This supports the impression that most of these material classes occurred in varying amounts throughout the site and are not exclusive to any particular feature cluster. The most impressive differences were recorded in Assay #4, particularly among bead and faunal distributions. As we have already noticed, beads were concentrated in the west-central portion of the site, particularly in clusters 4 and 5. Faunal remains were distributed ubiquitously, but different classes of fauna showed up on different parts of the site. The other MANOVA test that shows relatively large disparities among clusters is Assay #2, which used pottery weight, shell weight, and lithic cortication ®akes. Shells are concentrated in clusters 2 and 3, with minor occurrences in C4, C5, and C9. Cortication ®akes are distributed widely but show impressive concentrations in clusters 4, 5, and 7.
Appendix 10 Pottery Clays Kenneth L. Shingleton Jr. and George H. Odell
THE PROBLEM The problem that stimulated this research concerns the nature of the feature clusters at the Lasley Vore site and the origin of the people who produced the clusters. Two assumptions were made: (1) that the contents of the features re®ect activities that occurred in the space immediately around the features; and (2) that the feature clusters had integrity, that is, they clustered because they were dug by people of the same or similar residential units. If the latter assumption is true, then it might be possible to determine if the inhabitants of speci¤c residential units were the same as, or different from, inhabitants of other residential units on the site. An important aspect of this question is whether or not the inhabitants of the site all derived from the same place. Since pottery was recovered from most feature clusters, perhaps it can be employed to resolve this issue. That is, we know that pots are usually made from clays that derive from around the same place as their manufacture, for the simple reason that clay is very heavy and one would not wish to cart it too far. If a product were to be transported, it would more likely have been in the form of a ¤nished pot than the raw clay. Thus if the inhabitants of the areas around the various feature clusters all lived permanently at the Lasley Vore settlement, then their pottery should have been made from the same clay sources. However, if some groups came from other regions to camp at the village for awhile, then the clay matrix in their pottery should be different. ATOMIC A BSOR P TION SPECTROPHOTOMETRY A NA LYSIS The clays that form the matrix for pottery are composed of a series of elements determined by the source bedrock from which the initial weathering took place. The nature and abundance of these elements can be characterized by various chemical and atomic methods, providing a way by which speci¤c parts of a prehistoric habitation can be compared with one another. Such a method used in this analysis is called atomic absorption spectrophotometry, or A AS. In A AS, light of a particular wavelength (one which will be absorbed by the Appendix 10 is a synopsis of the research reported in the master’s thesis Shingleton completed in 1991 for the Department of Anthropology, University of Tulsa, and in Shingleton et al. (1994). Please look to these sources for background information and connecting arguments.
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element of interest) is emitted from a hollow cathode lamp, passes through an acetylene/air ®ame, and is focussed on a monochromator and then a photomultiplier detector. As the light passes through the ®ame, it is absorbed by atoms of the element in question. This is then detected by the photomultiplier as a reduction in the amount of light. Modern atomic absorption spectrophotometers report the concentration of the element on a digital readout (R ice 1987). There are advantages and disadvantages to the A AS technique. Most metal elements (major, minor, and trace) can be tested at the level of 10 parts per million to a level of precision of +/-2 percent. Nonmetals and rare earth elements, however, are not identi¤able using this method. A high degree of accuracy can also be achieved, particularly if the instrument is periodically recalibrated with a standard solution containing a known concentration of the ions of the elements being studied. Elements must be tested separately, placing a speci¤c lamp in the instrument and calibrating it accordingly, each time a set of samples is run. Once this calibration is complete, an entire set of samples can be tested for concentrations of that element in a relatively short time (R ice 1987). However, since the sample must be aspirated into the acetylene/air ®ame, it must be in solution, and sample preparation is a widely varied procedure. The uses of this technique in archaeology are discussed in a number of papers (Bishop et al 1982; Bromund et al. 1976; Gritton and Magalousis 1978; Harbottle 1982; Hughes et al. 1976; Tennent et al. 1984; Winefordner 1971). The technique has been applied to archaeological pottery in a limited number of studies. An early application was by Bower et al. (1975) on ceramic artifacts from Pella of the Decapolis in Greece. Methodological improvements were made by Torres et al. (1984), who resolved problems involving the sampling of individual sherds by drilling small cores in pottery fragments, which he used to concoct a ¤nely ground sample. A recent pilot study of Irish Neolithic pottery by Sheridan (1989) addressed potential problems with the technique such as detecting aboriginal mixing of clays and pollution of clays by the addition of temper particles. In this analysis problematic considerations were acknowledged, were brought into the procedure if practical, and were met with some certainty (detailed argumentation can be found in Shingleton 1991). The analyses were performed on eight elements: aluminum (Al), calcium (Ca), zinc (Zn), manganese (Mn), magnesium (Mg), iron (Fe), sodium (Na), and potassium (K). These elements encompass the metal composition of clays, and previous studies have found them to be diagnostic to some degree. The pottery from the Lasley Vore site is very uniform in terms of paste and color and is a montmorillonite clay. This assures the analyst that there was no mixing of radically different clays in the production process. Montmorillonite is a group of clay minerals composed of various combinations of a speci¤c group of elements: Na, Ca, Al, Mg, Si, H, and O (Ehlers and Blatt 1982). Hydrogen and oxygen are not measurable using A AS, and silicon occurs in too great and variable a quantity to be accurately measured; in fact, H, O, and Si are the largest constituents of the clay. In this analysis sampling was done on the “whole sherd” concept proposed by Gritton and Magalousis (1978). The procedure attempted to remove all temper and foreign inclusions in the pottery. Although probably not 100 percent successful, sample preparation appears to have removed almost all of it. A strati¤ed random sample of undecorated body sherds was selected from the fragments previously un-
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analyzed by Harriet Peacher, resulting in a total sample size of 62 sherds. Since several of the feature clusters did not yield enough pottery for comparison, only sherds from clusters 2, 4, 5, 7, and 8 were employed in this analysis. Speci¤c procedures for sample preparation and running the spectrophotometer are outlined in Shingleton (1991:69–78). All chemical work was performed in the chemistry laboratory at the University of Tulsa and directed by Dr. Thomas M. Harris. A NA LYSIS OF CHEMICA L DATA
Student’s t-Tests The data provided by the chemical analysis of the potsherds was analyzed using several statistical tests: Student’s t-test, Mann-Whitney U and Kolmogorov-Smirnoff nonparametric tests, cluster analysis, discriminant function analysis, and multiple analysis of variance. The nonparametric tests were run to assist in determining the validity of the t-test results, since normal distributions of the parametric data could not always be assumed. The multiple analysis of variance (MANOVA) tests con¤rmed the patterns established in the t-tests. Upon receiving the results of MANOVA, Tukey’s Honestly Signi¤cant Difference Test was run to identify signi¤cant pairwise differences among the groups of sherds. This test strengthens interpretations of the MANOVA results by reducing the likelihood of a Type I error in multiple evaluations of the same hypothesis (Shingleton et al. 1994:351–352). Sample sizes in this chemical analysis are not large statistically speaking, but since two-tailed tests were used and the results of the nonparametric assays were very similar to those of the parametric tests, the t-test results will be accepted. For all statistical evaluations, rejection of the null hypothesis was set at .05. Individual tests are presented in Shingleton (1991:80–85); the results are summarized in Table A10.1, in which all eight elements tested are plotted against the 10 possible cluster combinations. Careful study of Table A10.1 illustrates several patterns. Manganese shows signi¤cant differences in concentration in comparisons of clusters 4:5, 5:7, and 5:8. Magnesium concentrations differ signi¤cantly between clusters 2:5, 2:7, 2:8, 4:7, and 5:7.
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Potassium differs between 4:7 and 5:7; and zinc differs between 2:4, 2:5, 2:7, and 2:8. Where cluster 2 exhibits differences with other clusters, the elements magnesium and zinc are involved. Magnesium and potassium are responsible for divergences between cluster 7 and other clusters, and manganese is the element responsible for differences between cluster 5 and other clusters. To summarize the results from this perspective, Table A10.2 shows clusters that exhibit differences with other clusters on a repetitive basis, and the elements responsible for rejecting the null hypothesis. Several other elements also display signi¤cant differences, but are problematic in their interpretation. Iron shows signi¤cant differences in comparing clusters 2:4 and 2:7; aluminum shows differences between clusters 2:7; and calcium differs signi¤cantly in comparing 4:8. There is no pattern to aluminum, since in only one case was the null hypothesis rejected. In retrospect, iron and calcium results are dubious and their signi¤cance in these tests should be questioned. Although every attempt was made to secure the stainless steel “bombs” employed to facilitate the dissolution process, some acid probably leached small quantities of iron from them. This was con¤rmed by running blanks of the solutions through the A AS, in which iron was detected. In addition, calcium is suspect in samples heavily laden with shell temper, a problem that became evident in at least two samples. Although every attempt was made to remove the shell temper, these two samples consisted of almost more shell than clay, and they consequently exhibited extremely high calcium readings. Never was this problem as evident as when acetic acid was added to the samples. Although they exploded in a fury of ¤zzing, the acid solution probably became exhausted and could dissolve no more shell, leaving some calcium in solution. To summarize, four elements provide diagnostic, reliable results: magnesium, manganese, potassium, and zinc. In addition, these elements show spatial patterning. Figure 7.2 graphically portrays the patterned differences found among these four elements. Lines are drawn between those clusters showing statistically signi¤cant differences when compared on that element.
Cluster Analysis To compare the natural aggregation of the data with previously determined feature clusters, the chemical composition data were analyzed using cluster analysis. Ward’s method of clustering through the Statistical Package for the Social Sciences (SPSS) was employed for all eight elements, and again for only the four diagnostic elements. Although cluster analysis is not extensively supported by statistical reasoning, imposes structure although it seeks structure, and may generate different solutions through different clustering methods (Aldenderfer and Blash¤eld 1984), it can yield useful aggregations of entities if cautiously applied. The algorithm clustered the samples in a hypothetical four-, three-, and two-
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Fig. A10.1. Cluster analysis of feature clusters of A AS results using eight elements.
cluster situation. From the four-cluster run, each case’s membership in the speci¤c clusters can be tracked into the two-cluster format, showing the clusters with the closest memberships. Figures A10.1 and A10.2 show how this clustering graphed spatially in the four-cluster run of all eight elements and four diagnostic elements, respectively. Each of the numbers represents the number of the computer’s generated cluster (1, 2, 3, or 4). Positions of the numbers in the diagrams indicate the approximate location on the site where each sherd was recovered. The dendrogram generated with this program is not presented here. One basic pattern emerges from these representations—that is, cases usually fall into one of two computer-generated clusters, 1 or 2. Computer-generated cluster 1 has a distinct and exclusive membership: as the number of computer-generated clusters decreases, group 1’s membership remains constant. Conversely, cluster 2 is very large, and as the computer-generated clusters decrease in number, cluster 2’s membership increases as cases from clusters 3 and 4 are most closely related to it. Table A10.3 illustrates the group membership of the computer-generated clusters as the total number of clusters decreases. Figures A10.1 and A10.2 exhibit no intuitively obvious aggregations, and some randomness is apparent. However, there is also some distinction between two areas on the site. The great majority of cases assigned to computer cluster 1 lie on the
Fig. A10.2. Cluster analysis of feature clusters of A AS results using Mg, Mn, K, and Zn.
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northern side, mostly in feature cluster 2. Computer clusters 2, 3, and 4 are located predominantly in the southern portion of the site. Relatively few cases (¤ve) are included in computer-generated clusters 3 and 4 in the eight-element analysis. These cases blend into computer cluster 2 as the number of clusters is reduced. In the four-element analysis many more cases (23) occur in computer clusters 3 and 4, and these two clusters also blend into computer cluster 2 as the number of groups decreases. Since membership in computer cluster 1 appears exclusive, and since computer clusters 3 and 4 eventually combine with cluster 2 at a very low level in the hierarchy, the inferred pattern indicates that the sherds can be separated into at least two distinct groups based on chemical composition. These two groups are also divided spatially on the site.
Discriminant Function Analysis Discriminant function analysis is a multivariate statistical technique that de¤nes those variables that contribute most to the overall variability in the data set. Combinations of variables with the greatest discriminating power are produced, resulting in mathematical functions that include a ranking of the most in®uential variables in those functions (K lecka 1980). Chemical data from the ¤ve feature clusters at Lasley Vore constituted the groups that were discriminated from one another in the analysis, conducted through SPSS. The sherd chemical data from Lasley Vore are normally distributed and ¤t all of the other assumptions of the test. Wilk’s Lambda, used to determine the overall signi¤cance of the function that is produced, has been computed in Table A10.4, along with F-values for the eight elements evaluated. This table shows that Zn, Mn, Mg, and K have signi¤cant Wilk’s Lambda scores, using an alpha of .05. Wilk’s Lambda becomes smaller as the element tends toward perfect discrimination; as Wilk’s Lambda becomes larger, the variable tends toward no discrimination, and this is evident in the signi¤cance level. The discriminant functions produced by the statistical technique are listed in Table A10.5. The functions in the chart represent the consecutive classifying functions developed by the computer. For a statistically signi¤cant function, the Wilk’s Lambda
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will be low, the signi¤cance of the Wilk’s Lambda will be less than alpha (.05), the eigenvalue will be high, the canonical correlation will be high, and the percentage of the data set that this function is able to classify will be high. The only functions that are signi¤cant (or approximately so) for this data set are functions 1 and 2. For function 2 the signi¤cance of Wilk’s Lambda is >.05, but for this analysis the function will still be considered because, as a discriminator, it still accounts for almost 31 percent of the variability within the data set. It is informative to note how the variables, in this case elements, contribute to the discriminant functions. Table A10.6 lists the standardized discriminant function coef¤cients for functions 1 and 2, for which the largest coef¤cients contribute most signi¤cantly to the determination of that function. Another useful measure is the classi¤cation results table, in which each data case is run through the discriminant functions and the computer independently assigns a group to that case (not necessarily the group to which the case actually belongs) on the basis of criteria set up for each group. In a perfectly discriminating run, 100 percent of each group will be assigned to that group. For the current data set the independent classi¤cation results are presented in Table A10.7. Cluster 7 is the most distinct of the groups, because 91 percent of all its cases
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are correctly classi¤ed; cluster 2 is also quite distinct on the criteria set here. Conversely, cluster 8 is the least distinct, because only 38.5 percent of its cases are correctly classi¤ed, and the remaining cases are almost equally spread over the remaining clusters. In both clusters 8 and 4, less than half of the cases were grouped with the correct cluster. The discriminant function analysis was run again with the cluster 8 cases deleted (not shown here). In this analysis, at least 65 percent of the cases in each of the four remaining clusters were classi¤ed correctly, and the overall proportion of correctly classi¤ed cases was 75.5 percent. The cases spuriously attributed to cluster 8 were redistributed as “ungrouped” or were fairly evenly spread throughout the four remaining clusters. Thus discriminant function analysis is able to distinguish cases very well for clusters 2 and 7, fairly well for clusters 4 and 5, and poorly for cluster 8. Cluster 8 cases appear to be most similar to cases in other groups, while cases from cluster 7 are the most distinct. Other discriminant analyses were run on various combinations of the data set, but the results of all other tests were similar to those reported here.
Multiple Analysis of Variance Multiple analysis of variance is a multivariate technique designed to compare the means of a number of variables, and to evaluate the variables that signi¤cantly affect overall mean differences (Bray and Maxwell 1985). In the Lasley Vore data set the statistic again found signi¤cant differences among the means of the clusters. As usual, the elements contributing signi¤cantly (at the .05 level) to these differences were zinc, potassium, manganese, and magnesium. As mentioned previously, subsequent to the completion of multiple analysis of variance evaluations, Tukey’s Honestly Signi¤cant Difference Test was run to strengthen the results of multiple tests using the same hypothesis.
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Summary Analysis of chemical data indicates that at least two divisions of pottery clays at the Lasley Vore site can be made. This, at any rate, was the conclusion generated by the cluster analysis, which separated the northern cluster 2 from the other clusters. Results of the Student’s t-tests re¤ne this scenario substantially, separating the clusters into four groups. Cluster 2 is separable from the others on zinc content, and from three of the other four on magnesium. Cluster 7 differs from clusters 2, 4, and 5 on magnesium, and from 4 and 5 also on potassium. Cluster 5 differs from clusters 4, 7, and 8 on manganese. These relationships are illustrated graphically in Figure 7.2. Discriminant function analysis and the multiple analysis of variance con¤rm the choice of signi¤cant elements. Both statistical tests indicate that most variability within the multivariate data set is signi¤cant, and is contributed by their constituent amounts of zinc, magnesium, manganese, and potassium. Discriminant analysis has determined that the sherds from cluster 8 are the least distinct compositionally, being just as often classi¤able in another cluster as the one in which they originated. Conversely, sherds from clusters 2 and 7 are rarely misclassi¤ed into other clusters. The overall picture is one of a distinct and spatially patterned data set. Pottery on the site appears to have been produced using clays from four different locations, constituted by (1) cluster 2; (2) clusters 4 and 8; (3) cluster 5; and (4) cluster 7. TECHNOLOGICA L CONFIR M ATION The chemical analysis of Lasley Vore pottery has produced compelling evidence that at least some of the pottery at the Lasley Vore site was brought there from somewhere else. If some of the inhabitants came from different locales, they may also have had slightly different ways of manufacturing their pottery, and these techniques may also be detectable from the extant sherds from the site. The establishment of manufacturing differences would lend support to the conclusion, based on chemical analysis, that the pottery clays originated in different locales. Shortly after the excavation of the Lasley Vore site, Harriet Peacher collected data on morphological and technological attributes of the pottery, exclusive of stylistic traits. These data were compiled on all the rim sherds and a random sample of body sherds from the assemblage, to which were added all the decorated body sherds. Variables observed on both rim and body sherds include wall thickness, temper type, interior and exterior surface modi¤cation, interior and exterior surface color, and provenience. Variables observed exclusively on rim sherds include rim diameter, rim direction, rim tapering, rim thickening, and vessel shape. Those observed exclusively on body sherds are temper size, temper density, core position, interior and exterior luster, interior and exterior texture, and interior and exterior sooting. Although most of these variables are the same as those used later by Thompson (1995, Appendix 4), the two analyses were compiled independently. Details of the methodology employed in this study can be found in Shingleton (1991:27–34). In analyzing the collection, most weight was placed on those variables most likely to have been determined by the technology of the potters—that is, all interval variables (measurements), temper type, rim tapering, rim thickening, core position, core thickness, and surface modi¤cation. Interval scale variables were compared using Student’s t-tests, whereas nominal scale variables were evaluated by chi-square; in all
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tests, an alpha of .05 was employed. If problems of sample size were encountered in a statistical test, the test was deleted. Individual results of the battery of Student’s t-tests and chi-square tests are enumerated in Shingleton (1991:35–47) and are summarized here in Tables A10.8 and A10.9. The patterns of interval variables contained in Table A10.8 are expressed graphically in Figure A10.3, in which lines are drawn between clusters that display signi¤cant differences on the variable in question. Figure A10.4 shows the basic divisions among clusters, solid lines suggesting a clear distinction. Interval variables displaying signi¤cant differences are wall thickness of body sherds, temper density, and temper size. The other two variables suffer from small sample sizes and do not diverge appreciably. In general, clusters 2, 4, and 8 all differ from clusters 5 and 7, which also differ from one another. However, t-test results show no mutual divergences among clusters 2, 4, and 8. Temper is the controlling variable in differentiating cluster 7 from the rest, as it diverges signi¤cantly from the others in temper density and temper size. Tempering material in cluster 7 sherds is both denser and larger than sherds from other clusters. Cluster 5 sherds have demonstrably thicker body walls than sherds from other clusters. These differences are expressed clearly and consistently in the data. Such clear patterns are not observable in the chi-square results of nominal data. Nevertheless, cluster 2 again emerges as distinct on a number of variables. Its low exterior luster differentiate it from C4 and C7; it has less sooting on both interior and exterior surfaces than other clusters; and interior and exterior modi¤cation is deemed indeterminate more often than pottery of most other clusters. Cluster 8 pottery differs from sherds of other clusters in having less sooting and in its predominantly reddish exterior color. Many other differences are expressed in Table A10.9, but they do not exhibit much directionality and are not easily interpretable. In any case, pottery from cluster 2 is judged signi¤cantly different from pottery of another cluster more times (18) than any other cluster, again highlighting its distinctness. Overall, the analysis of technological variables has supported the differences detected in the chemical analyses. For example, cluster 5 is separable from other clusters not only because of the relatively large amounts of manganese in its clay matrix,
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Fig. A10.3. Relational diagram showing differences between clusters on interval-state technological variables.
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Fig. A10.4. Divisions among feature clusters and the interval-state technological variables causing the divisions.
but also because of its thick body walls. Cluster 2 is distinguishable not only by its high concentrations of magnesium and zinc, but also by its low exterior luster, lack of sooting, and relatively high number of differences on nominal technological variables. And cluster 7 is different from the rest not only on its abundant magnesium and potassium content, but also on the extraordinary size and density of its temper particles. The most likely conclusion one can draw from these data is that the pottery from cluster 2, clusters 4 and 8, cluster 5, and cluster 7 originated in different locales and was manufactured by different sets of potters.
Appendix 11 Small-Sized Debitage Analysis Isabella Muntz
INTRODUCTION Microdebitage is de¤ned as “particles less than 1.0 mm in maximum dimension resulting from deliberate lithic reduction” (Fladmark 1982:205). There is also debitage that usually falls through a quarter-inch screen but is slightly larger, normally measuring in maximum dimension from 2.0 mm to 50 mm. Called small-sized debitage, this is what I am analyzing here. Only recently have archaeologists become interested in what information these small data can provide. There are two main areas to which micro- and small-sized debitage can contribute: (1) lithic reduction systems, and (2) designation of activity loci. In this study I focus on the former, trying to discern what kind of lithic reduction was dominant on the site. I want to determine if speci¤c types of lithic reduction were being used and what the different lithic reduction techniques can reveal about the activities and the clusters themselves. Ken Shingleton (1991, appendix 10) wrote a thesis that demonstrated differences among Lasley Vore feature clusters on the basis of elements in the pottery clays. He found that these clays had been brought to the site from different regions. He noticed that the disposal of pottery of different clay types fell into a pattern. There were several clusters of features, each with a different clay type, indicating that different peoples may have occupied those clusters. George Odell examined the stone tools from the individual clusters, and his use-wear analysis supports Shingleton’s conclusions that most of the clusters were different from one another (see appendix 5). The largest and most well-de¤ned clusters were 2, 4, 5, 7, and 8. Accordingly, I chose to focus on the debitage from these ¤ve clusters in order to determine any noticeable differences in lithic reduction activities. Different groups may have gathered and inhabited this site at one time and may have used different lithic technologies. If so, the different activities may be discernable using evidence from small-sized debitage. The principal question to be answered is this: Were people from different areas practicing core reduction or tool retouch? DEFINITIONS Before I studied the samples resulting from ®otation techniques, I did an informal size analysis to determine if the material ¤t the description of microdebitage presented earlier. The pieces were individually too large (though still very small in absolute terms), so I decided to use the term small-sized debitage. I also avoided using the term microdebitage because the name implies a microscope was used for
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analysis. I did not use a microscope but examined the material macroscopically or with a 16 × handheld eyepiece. I divided the debitage from each feature into ¤ve categories: whole ®akes, broken ®akes, shatter, heat-treated lithic material, and miscellaneous. The ¤rst three categories follow Baumler and Downum (1989) in their experiment with small-sized debitage. They tried to determine if the differences in the amount of whole ®akes, broken ®akes, and shatter were signi¤cant in determining lithic reduction activities. I used their basic de¤nitions for each category but included additional factors and left others out. My de¤nitions are as follows: complete ®akes are ®akes with an intact bulb of percussion and at least most of the distal end; broken ®akes are ®akes with no bulb of percussion or ®akes with a bulb of percussion but an extremely small portion of the distal end; shatter are lithic pieces that have no discernable interior surface, basically no ®ake characteristics. Because I was looking at archaeological material and not just experimental material, as Baumler and Downum did, I had to create two other categories: heat-altered lithic material and miscellaneous. The heat-altered debitage consisted of either pot lids, pieces that contained pot lids, or evidence of burning on the ventral side of the ®ake. If the piece had no ventral side—for example, shatter—then, to be included, it had to have burnt sides or pot lid scars on its surfaces. The miscellaneous category contained all materials, such as bone, wood, shell, and seeds, that did not pertain to the former four categories. METHODOLOGY The majority of features at this site were pits used ultimately for the disposal of waste, such as broken tools, pottery, and lithic debitage. Some features were hearths used as ¤re pits or dumps. There were also several artifact concentrations and some indeterminate features. Flotation samples were originally taken from each feature for analysis of the light fraction organic material. In the ¤eld one sediment sample from each feature, collected from somewhere in the feature, was gathered in a 13-liter bag. The sediment from each feature was then ®oated in a tub with 1/16 inch window screen on the bottom to catch the heavy sediment. Both the ®oated fraction and the heavy fraction were saved for analysis—the ®oated material being sent to a paleobotanist, the heavy fraction being studied here. The heavy fraction was picked through for large artifacts such as tools or large ®akes, and the rest, the extremely small material, was placed into vials. Once in the lab, Dr. Odell quickly looked over the small material and thought it would be useful for debitage analysis. The small-sized debitage from each feature was picked through and placed into the ¤ve categories de¤ned earlier. For every feature, the count and weight of debitage in each category were recorded. The percentages for each lithic category were calculated, not only for the separate features but also for each of the ¤ve clusters. PR EV IOUS STUDIES When research on microdebitage was fairly new, Fladmark published an article on the subject and made some astounding new conclusions. One of his hypotheses for intrasite studies was that debitage analysis from ®aking stations could indicate the predominant lithic system of the station. He had already begun experiments with obsidian but claimed further research was needed (Fladmark 1982:216). A handful of
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archaeologists responded to his claim and produced more experiments, looking not only at microdebitage but also at small-sized debitage. Nicholson (1983), Clark (1986), Hull (1987), Baumler and Downum (1989), and several others studied microor small-sized debitage, creating experiments and applying the results to archaeological sites. They used evidence from the debitage not only to determine lithic systems but also to locate activity loci. The experimental series conducted by Baumler and Downum (1989) used evidence from small-sized debitage to determine lithic reduction activities. The authors did an experiment using two different lithic reduction techniques: core reduction and tool retouch. They reduced six cores, producing elongated ®akes or blades. They also unifacially retouched sixteen of the blanks from the core reductions, creating what is commonly known as scraper retouch. All material produced from these reductions was collected and kept for analysis. The authors studied debitage measuring 2–4 mm in maximum dimensions, separating it into three categories: complete ®akes, broken ®akes, and shatter. They counted and calculated percentages for each category. Their results showed that the debitage from core reduction consisted of higher percentages of shatter and lower percentages of complete ®akes when compared with scraper retouch. Both reduction and retouching activities produced elevated and rather similar amounts of broken ®akes. They found no indication that raw material signi¤cantly affected the results, although they noted that that aspect was not adequately explored in their preliminary study. Several other experimenters had arrived at the same conclusions as Baumler and Downum, that core reduction produces more shatter and fewer complete ®akes than retouch does (Magne and Pokotylo 1981; Sullivan and Rozen 1985). One key aspect of Baumler and Downum’s experiment is that they manufactured scrapers. Therefore, their results are good references for the debitage from this site, because scrapers were the predominant tools manufactured. R ESULTS I looked closely at the percentages of complete ®akes and shatter for each cluster and made conclusions based on the results of Baumler and Downum’s experiment, mentioned above. I wanted to determine what type of lithic reduction system was utilized in the different clusters based on a comparison of the amounts of complete ®akes and shatter in each cluster. Table A11.1 shows the percentage (out of all lithic material in the samples) of complete ®akes and shatter, as well as their ratio, while Tables A11.2–A11.6 present the raw data by feature for each of the ¤ve clusters.
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Table A11.1 allows an easy comparison of percentages and a ratio that helps clarify the difference in percentages. I concluded that clusters 2 and 7, both of which had signi¤cantly greater percentages of complete ®akes compared to shatter, were locales in which tool retouching was practiced. The cluster with a signi¤cantly greater percentage of shatter, cluster 8, was most likely a place in which core reduction was the dominant reduction strategy. Neither cluster 4 nor 5 was signi¤cantly different from the others in percentages of complete ®akes and shatter, most likely meaning that both types of lithic reduction activities were employed in similar proportions in those clusters. PROBLEMS W ITH THE A NA LYSIS Some inherent problems must be taken into account before any conclusions can be made. One problem is small sample size. Two factors contribute to this problem: (1) because only one ®otation sample was taken from each feature, sample size may have been too small to adequately represent the entire site; and (2) the majority of excavated material was sifted through 1/4 inch mesh screens, allowing potentially collectible small-sized debitage to fall through the screens. Therefore, the debitage samples from normal units do not record the same range of sizes as those collected through ®otation samples and 1/16 inch mesh. Thus the conclusions drawn in this analysis may not represent the entire site, and may not be consistent with data drawn from other types of samples. Another problem occurs with the dispersal of such small debitage. On this site most of the features were pits, most likely used ultimately for refuse disposal. Several studies have been done on this kind of secondary deposition, including an ethnographic study conducted by Clark (1986:28). He found that semisedentary and sedentary societies usually remove lithic refuse from a ®int knapping area and discard it in another area—for example, in pits. Lasley Vore represents a semisedentary site, so the numerous pits containing cultural material suggest that secondary deposition of lithic debitage probably occurred. This secondary depositional technique can never transfer all of the debitage produced from each knapping exercise, and it may therefore have skewed the natural pattern of small-sized debitage that comes from knapping. Nicholson (1983:279) also noted that aeolian processes must be taken into account when analyzing microdebitage, because these processes can decrease the amount of debitage deposited on a site. I took this into consideration, but, because I was dealing with small-sized debitage and not microdebitage, I concluded that aeolian processes probably did not have any affect on this site. Small-sized debitage is too large to be carried or moved by wind in all but the most violent circumstances. CONCLUSIONS The problematic factors are extensive but not overwhelming. That is, sample size is relatively small and the debitage was probably swept into pits, affecting the natural pattern of small-sized debitage. Both of these factors impact how the data should be interpreted. Keeping these factors in mind, the study of the small-sized debitage has nevertheless illuminated some of the lithic reduction activities practiced at the Lasley Vore site, as well as their distribution. As evidenced by the notable differences
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in percentages in Table A11.1, there are three loci of identi¤able activities: clusters 2 and 7 were probably the locations of tool retouching activities, while core reduction occurred most frequently in cluster 8. These may not have been the only lithic reduction activities practiced in the clusters, but they were most likely the dominant ones.
Notes
CH AP TER 1 1. The accounts of La Harpe’s travels related here are taken from translations of Margry by Lewis (1924) and Smith (1958–59), and from the ethnohistoric work of de Villiers du Terrage (1934) and Mildred Wedel (1971, 1978). The Margry reproduction of the diary from which Lewis and Smith’s translations were derived contain “inexcusable alterations, deletions, and additions” (M. Wedel 1978:2), inducing Wedel to make her own translation. Since the latter has not been published, I have employed the published translations from Margry’s text. For our purposes, which do not include ¤ne-grained ethnohistoric interpretations, this should suf¤ce. 2. I have used this spelling for the site rather than “Roseborough Lake,” which has come down through the literature, on the advice of S. D. Dickinson (personal communication 2001). He noted that the site is named for the Rosborough family, which once owned a plantation on this property. I have not changed the name on the relevant maps, because most scholars know the site as “Roseborough.” 3. For a list of mammals, birds, and reptiles common to the prehistoric and early historic Osage Savanna, see Wyckoff (1984:13). For lists of trees, shrubs, mammals, birds, and reptiles found in the principal biotic zones, see Albert and Wyckoff (1984). 4. On the other hand, the American elk is Cervus elaphus, which Europeans were familiar with as red deer. The “unicorn” seen by La Harpe, with which the Europeans were obviously unfamiliar, was more likely a pronghorn antelope, which does not exist in Europe. In addition, Davis (1987:113) recounted a decrease in deer and increase of pronghorn in the upper horizons of Oklahoma sites such as Pohly, Scott, and Wann. 5. Most likely a member of the Caddo Nabedache tribe (Newcomb and Field 1967:251).
CH AP TER 2 1. This chapter is undertaken in the spirit of approaching history from multicultural perspectives, as advocated by Rollings (1988). 2. The closeness of the Wichita and Pawnee is manifested in the fact that they are featured in each other’s legends as having separated from each other relatively recently. See Blaine (1982). 3. By protohistoric I am referring to the period between the ¤rst arrival of European goods in a region, no matter whether they came through direct contact or indirect trade, and the historic period. The historic period began with the ¤rst real wave of European settlement in the region (see Brown and Emerson 1992:79–80; Stothers and Abel 1991). In eastern Oklahoma the protohistoric would have been ushered in by La Harpe’s visit,
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since he was the ¤rst known bearer of European trade goods, though a few items probably trickled into the region before 1719. This period lasted about a century, for Forts Gibson and Towson would not have been constructed in the 1820s had there not existed a substantial population of European settlers in eastern Oklahoma for the U.S. government to protect (Gibson 1981:39).
CH AP TER 3 1. Besides trade and access to a southern port, there was always the promise of minerals and conversion of the Indians (Brown 1992:18–19). 2. For an interpretation of Spanish frenzy following La Salle’s gulf mission, see Weddle’s introduction in Weddle (1987); for their reaction to the establishment of New Orleans in 1718, see Weddle (1992:105–106). 3. M. Wedel’s (1971) note 35 is helpful on this point.
CH AP TER 4 1. The results of the original survey are contained in Odell (1988). The subsequent process of testing for signi¤cance is documented in a series of management summaries to Sirrine Environmental Consultants, the K imberly-Clark Company, and the Oklahoma State Archaeologist dated May 11 and May 24, 1988. The preliminary report on the excavation of the Lasley Vore site is Odell (1989a). 2. Waldo Wedel excavated several sites in central and southern Kansas, which may be ancestral Wichita. They had low mounds on them that were not burials but probably trash heaps. People did not live on these heaps but on lower-lying areas peripheral to them—for example, the Tobias site in R ice County (W. Wedel 1959:211–230). Also see Hyde (1951:27–28). 3. A detailed account of this technique and the exact procedure we employed can be found in Odell (1992). 4. Mechanical stripping of the plow zone was not a new tactic, and it continues to be employed. For example, a strategy of test pitting, block excavation, and mechanical stripping in the early 1990s uncovered 69 pits, 2 structures, and 7 burials at the protohistoric Caddo McLelland site on the Louisiana side of the Red R iver (Kelley et al. 1996; Kelley 1997). 5. Considerable development of the ®otation technique has occurred in recent years, but the basic principles are explained in Struever (1968) and Watson (1976). Also see Moeller (1975). 6. Dixon’s report was originally included as chapter 3 in Odell et al. (1990). Because of the paucity of this kind of data for this region and its importance for geologic interpretations, that report has been included here, with minor revisions, as appendix 1. 7. Much of this information is a result of Steve Hall’s geomorphological study of the Little Caney R iver Valley (Hall 1977, 1988) and other work in Oklahoma and Texas. See also Albert and Wyckoff (1984:42).
CH AP TER 5 1. A particularly poignant example of this practice involves Eskimo caching of meat at locations outside their village at which they gather ¤rewood, tend traps, or scout for game during the winter (Binford 1977:84–87). 2. Experimentation with the effects of tillage on artifact distributions (Odell and Cowan 1987) and simulation modeling of these and other experiments (Boismier 1997)
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indicate that plowing simply smears once discrete artifact concentrations. This smearing does not appear to attain distributional stability or equilibrium as the number of plowing episodes increases. 3. According to DeBoer (1988:4), the original contents of storage pits should rarely be preserved. 4. As Rosen (1997:119) cautioned, the premise that tools employed in speci¤c tasks would be discarded in areas in which they had been used is not necessarily true, but “as a working hypothesis designed to be con¤rmed or rejected, it is useful. Strong patterns of association in speci¤c situations can indeed suggest speci¤c activities.” 5. This tactic has been employed on a few other sites; for example, Moeller (1975:47), who recognized natural bands in pits at the Faucett site in Pennsylvania. 6. Dickens (1985:41); see also Hatch (1995:148), who postulated the same origin for similarly shaped Mississippian pits in the Oconee Valley of Georgia. 7. Some of these pits had bottoms ®at enough to propose that someone had intentionally dug them to this shape, suggesting that they may have had a speci¤c purpose that was different from that of other kinds of pits. House (1990:14) came to the same conclusion concerning features at the Baytown period Powell Canal site in southeastern Arkansas, where he separated round-based from ®at-based pits. 8. Suggested by Dickens (1985:38).
CH AP TER 6 1. The Lasley Vore object may be similar to a bone/antler bracelet unearthed from the Talking Crow site during the University of Kansas excavations in 1952–55, directed by Carlisle Smith. 2. Eastern Oklahoma Neosho and Fort Coffee phases: Freeman and Buck (1960), Freeman (1962), Rohrbaugh (1982b); northern Texas: Harris et al. (1965), Jelks (1966), Blaine (1992); south-central Kansas: W. Wedel (1959), Hawley and Haury (1994), Scott (1994). 3. The analytical system employed here is more fully explained in Odell (1996b). 4. The phenomenon referred to is scarcity-induced economizing behavior. The Lasley Vore case is analogous to a situation in the northern Lower Illinois Valley of Illinois, described in detail in Odell (1989b, 1996a). In the latter case, chert in nodules of a size suitable for making stone tools was available on the western side of the river but not on the eastern side, causing considerable disjuncture for those on the eastern side. 5. A nice graphic presentation of these types can be found in Harris et al. (1965:Figure 18). Settlements containing squarish gun®ints that may be the French conventional type include Deer Creek, Oklahoma (Steen 1953:Plate 17), and Pearson, Texas (Duf¤eld and Jelks 1961:56). Protohistoric sites containing spall gun®ints include Deer Creek (Sudbury 1975:31–34) and Guebert, Illinois (Good 1972:Figure 29). 6. The results of blind tests, in which one analyst uses tools and presents them to a second analyst to interpret, can be found in Keeley and Newcomer (1977); Odell and OdellVereecken (1980); Newcomer et al. (1986); Unrath et al. (1986); Shea (1987); and Bamforth et al. (1990). 7. Compare the Lasley Vore beads with those from the sites of Deer Creek (Sudbury 1975:Figures 13–16), Bryson-Paddock (Hartley and Miller 1977:Figure 12), and Longest (Harris and Harris 1967:Figures 52,53). The beads from the Womack site illustrated in Harris et al. (1965:Figure 8) show considerably more variation than those from Lasley Vore, a function of the substantially larger sample size at Womack. The beads from the Noble Lake site in Arkansas appear to be shorter and contain more colored varieties (House 1995:Figures 22, 47).
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8. Womack site: Harris et al. (1965); Gilbert site: Jelks (1966), Blaine (1992); Pearson site: (Duf¤eld and Jelks 1961); Longest site: Blaine (1967), Harris and Harris (1967), Woodall (1967); Spanish Fort (Longest?): Witte (1938). 9. Similarities are every where. To provide a few examples: the ¤nial on the lower left of Figure 6.6 is nearly identical to one found at the Gilbert site in Texas (Blaine and Harris in Jelks 1966:Figure 37k) and one found by a collector at the Deer Creek site, Oklahoma (Good 1967:23, no. 6); the butt plate at the upper right of Figure 6.6 is identical to two from the Womack site in Texas (Harris et al. 1965:Figure 16a,b); the small side plate fragment to the left of the butt plate in Figure 6.6 is similar to one from Deer Creek (Sudbury 1975:Figure 8, no. 6) and corresponds to the middle of the complete sidepiece from the Fatherland site, Natchez, shown in Hamilton (1968:Figure 3B); the trigger guard in Figure 6.6 is similar to one from the Grand Village of the Natchez illustrated in Hamilton (1968:Figure 4E); and so forth. 10. This type appears to have become more common after 1630 (Smith 1987:35). 11. This contrasts with ax heads at sites that received more trade goods such as Guebert in Illinois (Good 1972:Figure 38d) or Pearson in northeastern Texas (Duf¤eld and Jelks 1961:Figure 13a, 14a), where some discarded ax heads retained both a socket and a large blade. 12. Smith (1987:36–37). Moreau (1998) discussed the transformation of copper and brass kettles to other objects, but he made little mention of tinkling cones. 13. Nodena points: see Noble Lake site, southeastern A rkansas (House 1995:Figure 19). Womack engraved pottery: see Pearson site, Texas (Duf¤eld and Jelks 1961:56); Womack site, Texas (Harris et al. 1965:299); and Gilbert site, Texas (Story et al. 1966:114).
CH AP TER 7 1. See W. Wedel (1959) and Girard (1995). Fortunately for our purposes, Girard’s functional assessments of the Deshazo assemblage were based on a limited use-wear analysis, though the experimental basis for the study was weak and its conclusions remain tentative. Nevertheless, they can be more or less directly compared with the Lasley Vore functional data. 2. See Johnson’s (1997) analysis of scrapers from eighteenth-century Chickasaw sites in Mississippi. 3. Less recently analyzed sites in Kansas: W. Wedel (1959); more recently analyzed sites in Kansas: Hawley and Haury (1994).
CH AP TER 8 1. Quote from Newcomb (1961:250–251); see also M. Wedel (1982a:119). Moore (1983:185) suggested that full-body tattooing could be useful in battle by decreasing the likelihood that an enemy could pass himself off as an Indian of the tattooed tribe. 2. Bruce Smith (1995:236–238, 249) suggested that small Mississippian singlehousehold settlements were occupied by a nuclear family. It is not too much of a stretch to assume that most of the Wichita grass houses, which Bolton (1916:260) surmised were large enough to hold eight to ten people, served a nuclear or, at most, an extended family unit. Rogers (1995:95) documented a shift away from multifamily to nuclear family residences among the Late Prehistoric Caddo who were, of course, closely related to the Wichita. 3. The women were very attentive to the French, competing with one another to bring them better foods (Smith 1958–59:532–533). 4. Creel (1991:41) documented the importance of bison hides among the Caddo,
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who used them primarily for bedding and cold-weather robes. Their use among the Wichita, a Plains bison-hunting group, would have been even greater. 5. The need for hides to take on the fall bison hunt was probably acute and would account for frequent scraping activities during this season of the year. Some hides may also have been prepared for trade, possibly with Puebloan peoples of the Southwest. Once La Harpe and other Frenchmen had established a need, of course, the Wichita would also have geared up for a massive European demand for bison and deer hides and beaver pelts (Smith 1987:24–25; Brown 1992:19–21). Other groups were also apparently preparing hides for a European market at this time. Wiegers (1985:127) and Chapman (1982:20) noted that the most common chipped stone tool type on Osage sites was the large ovoid scraper, and Johnson (1997:215) documented the stone scraper used to process deer hides among the eighteenth century Chickasaw of northeastern Mississippi. La Harpe would have noticed a little of this activity during his visit, but it would have accelerated after ¤rmer contacts with the French had been achieved—as occurred at Ferdinandina, or the Deer Creek site, upriver of Lasley Vore (M. Wedel 1981). 6. Rogers (1995:95) has documented among the Caddo a reduction in domestic group size, which may be related to the increasingly hierarchical social structure that developed as the Spiro elite gained dominance (Rogers 1983). In other societies this trend toward greater social control has engendered increasingly specialized use of community space and monofunctional activity areas (Kent 1990:148–150), a process that may also have occurred among the Wichita. 7. See M. Wedel (1981:30–31, 1982b:124) for the possible locations of these groups at this time. Differences in pottery temper for these two clusters have been documented in appendix 10. 8. According to Wandsnider (1997), pit roasting was a common Plains method for processing large quantities of meat, producing readily digestible fatty polymers by reducing the fatty acid chain length through lipid hydrolysis. 9. Concealment of foodstuffs was a common function of Plains storage pits (Ward 1985:98–99; DeBoer 1988), though Ingold (1983) stressed that many groups promoted “practical storage”—that is, leaving plants on the vine or animals on the hoof for as long as they could. The stone covering re®ects Lasley Vore pits such as F22, which contained a large ®agstone on the bottom. This characteristic also occurred at other protohistoric Wichita sites such as 14Mn-509 near Marion, Kansas, which contained ¤ve limestone slabs “in no apparent pattern” (Rohn and Emerson 1984:82). These ®at stones may have once served to cover these or nearby pits. Another method of covering these holes was discovered in two bell-shaped storage pits at the Longest site (Bell and Bastian 1967a:77–78). Here the excavators detected a shelf on both sides of the pits about 70 cm below ground surface. On one of these shelves was a fragment of charred log that had apparently served to cover the hole. 10. At least some of La Harpe’s men may have had experience in colonial Quebec and may have served as Voyageurs or at least would have been familiar with the rich musical tradition of these people (Nute 1931:chapter 6, 1941:48–58; Blegen 1966). 11. La Harpe may have spotted few animal bones in these trash heaps. The bone preserved at the Lasley Vore site was not plentiful enough to support an extensive village (appendix 3), which other lines of evidence suggest existed. So either most of the bone deteriorated in the plow zone or the Wichita butchered most of their carcasses offsite. Both of these scenarios probably occurred, as well as the possibility that visitors, such as the Ascani in our hypothetical example, brought in large quantities of meat already butchered and separated from the long bones. Operating in this way would have made the load easier for the Ascani to carry and would have enabled them to convert the osseous material to useful implements back at their own settlement.
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12. As might be expected, if trash heaps exist on a settlement, they are most likely to occur on the periphery. This patterning has been documented ethnographically among the Efe pygmies of central A frica, where “trash heaps are located beside and behind huts along the camp perimeter, and, infrequently, within the central area” (Fisher and Strickland 1991:224). Their latter observation also jibes with South Area 2 at Lasley Vore, a dump area that is centrally located. The mounds that used to exist at Lasley Vore were no longer visible by the time we got there and we can now only speculate that they coincided with our areas, but trash mounds have been documented from several other protohistoric sites in the region: e.g., Tobias in R ice County, Kansas (W. Wedel 1959:211–230); Longest in Jefferson County, Oklahoma (Bell and Bastian 1967a); Deer Creek and BrysonPaddock in Kay County, Oklahoma (Sudbury 1975; Hartley and Miller 1977); Noble Lake in Jefferson County, Arkansas (House 1995). 13. Dumping along a palisade line of a Pisgah phase (a.d. 1100–1400) village in western North Carolina, for example, was recorded by Ward (1985). The lack of evidence for defensive structures at Lasley Vore may be a result of poor preservation, but it may also re®ect the temporal placement of this village—that is, at a time before relations with the Osage became so strained that the Wichita-related groups migrated south of the Red R iver. Later, forti¤ed settlements became more common in this region. By the time the Spanish Colonel Parrilla’s contingent decided to punish the Taovaya village on the Red R iver in 1759, for example, they found it heavily forti¤ed and were themselves severely punished (Harper 1953; John 1975:349–352; Johnson and Jelks 1958:408; Witte 1938). 14. Somewhat later in time, Taovayas occupying the Longest site on the Red R iver buried their dead in a seemingly random arrangement around the perimeter of the site (Bell and Bastian 1967a:82). 15. M. Wedel (1982b:124) speculated on the locations of prominent Taovaya and Ascani villages at the time of La Harpe’s visit. Both groups lived north of the Tawakoni village, but La Harpe’s accounts of their exact locations are a bit muddled. 16. This refers to the Hampton site, discovered subsequent to the excavation of Lasley Vore on an archaeological survey of the bluf®ine between Jenks and Bixby, Oklahoma (Odell et al. 1990). It lay in a grassy ¤eld on the other side of 131st Street from Lasley Vore. The site was tested and, in accordance with Flannery’s law of archaeological discovery, a protohistoric pit probably dating to the same period as the Lasley Vore site was encountered on the last day of excavation. That entire ¤eld appears to have been the locus of another (or the same) protohistoric occupation. We will never be able to tie it in, of course, because somebody has now built a house on the site. I am postulating here that this occupation formed an extension to the main village, but at some spatial remove from it. Since the K ichai spoke a slightly different Caddoan language from the others and appear to have been culturally different (Swanton 1942:56; Newcomb 1961:250), I speculate that, had they visited the Tawakoni village, they would have camped at some distance from the main settlement. This was the pattern of the Skidi Pawnee, who were similarly distinct from the South Bands Pawnee and traditionally settled at some distance from the main camp when these peoples aggregated (Hyde 1951). A similar situation has been documented ethnographically among the Inuit at the Amalgamation site (midsummer 1949), in which two different peoples resided together but maintained their spatial, as well as social, autonomy (Binford 1991:51). 17. I do not mean to pick on the Taovayas here, for I do not know if they practiced slavery or not. I am suggesting that some raiding for the slave trade probably occurred among Wichita subgroups prior to the period of French in®uence. The French exerted this pressure particularly among the Osage (Debo 1970:73; Wiegers 1985:106), but it eventually extended to the Wichita, who traded Lipan Apaches and others to the French
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(Newcomb 1961:258). Slavery created a moral and economic dilemma for the French government, which ordered a halt to the practice in 1720, but to little avail (Wiegers 1985:94). 18. Newcomb (1961:254) averred that the Wichita did not eat ¤sh. This may have been true once they settled in Texas, but if it were the case in Oklahoma, then why would we ¤nd ¤sh remains, aggregated in cluster 2, at Lasley Vore? Maybe the alligator gar taste better up here? 19. W. Wedel (1961:139–141) and discussion in Bell (1984). Wedel differed from his colleague K rieger in entertaining the possibility that the Henrietta focus was ancestral Wichita. See also Bozell (1995), who wove an interesting argument based on bison availability and suggested that the Plains Village Washita R iver people may have been ancestral Wichita. 20. Harris et al. (1965), though Vehik (1992:328) had Du R ivage ending up north of Texas on the Washita R iver. 21. The relative scarcity of European weaponry in the Southeast at this time was emphasized by Perttula (1993:104), who observed that French trade goods, including guns, among the Caddo became much more common after 1740.
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Contributors
Marie E. Brown is a consulting archaeologist who provides services to private CR M and other ¤rms and to public agencies in New Mexico. Among her specializations are archaeofaunal analysis, research design development, and project management. John C. Dixon is professor of geography at the University of Arkansas, Fayetteville. He has conducted geoarcheological research in western Oklahoma, the Ozark highlands, and the Mississippi R iver valley of Arkansas. He also has active research interests in western Arctic Eskimo whaling society adaptations to environmental change. Lee Good was one of the original employees of the J. M. Davis Arms and Historical Museum in Claremore, Oklahoma, and served as its director from 1989 until his death in 1998. One of the country’s most knowledgeable people on the history of blackpowder guns, he was a president of the Indian Territory Gun Collector’s Association and was named to the National Muzzle Loading R i®e Association (NMLR A) Hall of Fame. Mary Elizabeth Good, a nationally noted bead expert from Tulsa, has been involved in archaeology for more than 40 years, has served as director for the Oklahoma Anthropological Society (OAS) and Tulsa Archaeological Society (TAS), and has received the Society for American Archaeology’s Crabtree Award and the OAS’s Golden Trowel Award. Eric J. Menzel is a Ph.D. student at the University of Illinois, UrbanaChampaign, in the Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Sciences. He is researching the weed ecology of organic agricultural systems and the social impact of small-scale farms on modern agrarian communities. George H. Odell is professor of archaeology and chair of the Department of Anthropology at the University of Tulsa. He has published books and
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Contributors
articles on lithic analysis and currently edits Lithic Technology. He has worked in Europe, Central America, and several locations in North America. His research focus for the past 20 years has been midcontinental North America, most recently, Oklahoma. Kenneth L. Shingleton Jr. is an archaeologist for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, Tulsa District. Isabella Muntz is a graduate student in anthropology at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. Her interests include lithic technology and the Middle Paleolithic archaeology of southwest Asia and the Near East. Joe B. Thompson is a project archeologist and assistant director at Bear Creek Archeology, Inc., a private cultural resources consulting ¤rm based in northeastern Iowa. Frieda Vereecken-Odell has a degree in archaeology and art history from the University of Ghent, Belgium, and has worked on archaeological projects in North America, Central America, and Europe. She is the layout editor for Lithic Technology and an instructor in French and German at the University of Tulsa’s Department of Languages. Bonnie C. Yates heads the Morphology Section of the U.S. Fish & Wildlife’s National Fish & Wildlife Forensics Laboratory in Ashland, Oregon. From 1977 to 1992, she directed the zooarchaeology lab at the University of North Texas. Her specialties include mammalian osteology, microscopic hair identi¤cation, and forensic taphonomy.
Index
abrader. See stone tool types Adaes Mission. See Blondel incursion of Adaes Mission Advisory Council on Historic Preservation, President’s, 42 Alarcon, Martin de, 35 Alibates silici¤ed dolomite. See raw material, lithic Altithermal, 7 analysis of variance, 115, 121, 303, 307, 313, 314 Angola Farm site (LA), 274, 276, 280, 285, 286 Antiquities Act of 1906, 42 antler tools. See bone/antler tools Apache, 2, 4, 6, 7, 15, 20–23, 26, 31, 136 Arawak, 29 Arikara, 17, 25 Arkansas R iver: depositional history, 51– 52, 150–154; distal sediments, 146– 149; location of villages/settlement, 37, 38, 86, 131, 136, 140; paleosol formation in deposits, 147, 152, 153–154; proximal sediments, 145–146; terrace sediments, 149; vegetation/resources, 5, 86 Ascani, 1, 13, 106, 133, 134, 336n. 8:15 atomic absorption spectrophotometry analysis, 106, 140, 305–307 awl, bone. See bone/antler tools awl, iron, 287 ax head, metal, 25, 97, 98, 100, 137, 138, 191, 287, 334n. 6:11 barrel, gun. See guns Bayou Goula site (LA), 276 beads, glass: appearance on sites, 25, 47,
333n. 6:7; bead index, 91, 92; distribution of, 111, 114, 121, 271, 272–274, 301–303; manufacture technique, 90, 92, 276; types, 89–90, 91 Bienville, Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne de, 1, 34, 36, 37 biface, stone. See stone tool types billet, antler. See bone/antler tools Biloxi, 33, 35, 37 bison, 6, 36 Blondel incursion of Adaes Mission, 35 Bogy, Joseph, 11, 140 bone/antler tools: antler billet, 77, 78, 190; bison scapula hoe, 77, 101, 132, 189, 190; bone awl, 77, 78, 84, 132, 183, 190; bracelet, 77, 78, 190; distribution of, 111, 121, 127; gar scale, 77, 78, 190 Bonilla, Capt. Francisco Leyva de, 23, 29 bowls, pottery. See pottery vessels bracelet, bone. See bone/antler tools breakage, stone tool, 248–249, 258, 266, 268 British, 27, 33, 140 Bryson-Paddock site (OK), 15, 39, 80, 85, 86, 193, 218, 222–223, 226–227, 230, 266, 274, 277, 278, 333n. 6:7, 336n. 8:12 buildings. See house construction; Lasley Vore site, structures burial, 43, 135, 336n. 8:14 burin, stone. See stone tool types burning of bone. See disturbance of archaeological remains butchery, 77, 99, 132, 189, 190, 191, 253, 255, 267, 335n. 8:11 butt/butt plate, gun. See guns button, metal, 288
364 cache, Lasley Vore site. See feature types caching behavior: Brookeen Creek Cache, 54; Gibson Cache, 54; Nunamiut caching, 54, 332n. 5:1 Caddo, 15–17, 25, 54 calumet ceremony, 1, 2, 36, 131, 132 Cancy. See Apache Cartier, Jacques, 32, 34 cemetery. See burial ceramics. See pottery chain mail. See Spanish Champlain, Samuel de, 32 Cherokee, 11 Cherokee Prairie, 4 Chickasaw trader, 8, 36, 130, 275 chi-square analysis, 103–104, 297–299, 314, 315–316 Choska soil series, 149 Chouteau, Pierre, 11, 140 cluster analysis, 307, 308–311 cock hammer/top jaw, gun. See guns Colon, Cristobal (Christopher Columbus), 27–28 Comanches, 6, 22, 23, 26, 106 Company of the Indies, 33, 34 conservation of tools. See economizing behavior construction of buildings. See house construction; Lasley Vore site, structures cooking, 54, 73, 74, 99, 103, 105, 132, 134, 139, 187–188, 206, 210, 215, 218, 335n. 8:8 Copan paleosol, 52, 153 core, stone. See stone tool types core reduction, 126–127, 132, 321, 329, 330 coring, sediment, 51 corn. See farming, prehistoric; feature anomalies Coronado, Francisco Vásquez de, 13, 23, 29, 137 Cotter dolomite. See raw material, lithic coureurs de bois, 10 Cowley Plain pottery. See pottery wares Cross Timbers, 5 Crozet, Antoine, 33 cultural resource management legislation, 41–42 dagger hand guard, metal, 93, 97, 98, 287 daub, 101, 111, 121, 127, 129, 139, 224–225
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Index debris/debitage. See stone tool types debris, small-sized lithic, 126, 319–330. See also stone tool types, debris deer, 6, 7 Deer Creek Brushed pottery. See pottery wares Deer Creek Simple Stamped pottery. See pottery wares Deer Creek site (OK), 15, 39, 80, 85, 86, 191, 193, 194, 209, 210, 222–223, 226–227, 230, 266, 274, 277, 278, 279, 285, 333nn. 6:5, 7; 334n. 6:9, 335n. 8:5, 336n. 8:12 Delaware Creek paleosol, 52, 153, 154 Delgado, Marcos, 25 denticulate, stone. See stone tool types Department of Transportation Act of 1966, 42 Deshazo site (TX), 124, 194 de Soto, Hernando, 28, 29 D’Iberville, Pierre Le Moyne, Sieur, 33 discriminant function analysis, 307, 311– 313, 314 disturbance of archaeological remains: by humans, 69, 75, 187; by nature, 55, 75, 183, 189 Ditch Witch trenching. See Lasley Vore site drill, stone. See stone tool types Dumont de Montigny, 8 dumps (garbage), 50–51, 55, 62, 70, 74, 92, 105, 128, 134, 135, 140, 191, 335n. 8:11, 336nn. 8:12, 13 Du R ivage, Sieur, xvi, 8, 35, 36, 130, 131, 137 Du Tisné, Claude-Charles, 24, 31, 137 dwellings. See house construction; Lasley Vore site, structures economizing behavior, 84, 88, 100, 268, 333n. 6:4 Ellis point, 84, 231, 234, 239 Elsey chert. See raw material, lithic emerald, 8 encomienda system, 28–29 excavation techniques. See Lasley Vore site Executive Order 11593, 42 Fabry de la Bruyère, André, 26, 137 factor analysis. See principal components analysis
Index farming, prehistoric, 14, 16, 18, 19, 22, 139 Fatherland site (MS), 277, 278, 279, 280, 334n. 6:9 faunal remains (at Lasley Vore): amphibians/reptiles, 75, 76, 99, 115, 121, 129, 185, 188, 190, 191; birds, 75, 76, 115, 121, 127, 185, 188, 189, 190, 191; bison, 75, 76, 77, 99, 115, 121, 127, 129, 139, 183, 189, 191; black bear, 76, 186, 190; cougar, 76, 186, 190; deer, 47, 75, 76, 77, 78, 99, 115, 121, 127, 129, 139, 183, 189, 191; distribution of, 115–122, 185– 188, 301–303; ¤sh, 75, 76, 99, 115, 121, 129, 185, 188, 192; mollusks/shell, 47, 75, 115, 121, 129, 183, 187, 188, 191; pig, 76, 186, 189; rodents, 75, 185, 188; small mammals, 75, 76, 99, 115, 121, 129, 183, 192 feature anomalies (at Lasley Vore): bison scapulae, 63–64, 71; broken metates, 67, 74, 138, 139; charred corn kernels, 62, 67, 74, 84, 99, 101, 138, 139; stone slabs, 63, 67, 70, 335n. 8:9; whole mussel shells, 63, 71 feature characteristics (at Lasley Vore): burning, 62, 63, 65, 66, 68, 70; clustering/distribution, 101, 102, 103, 105, 109, 110, 139, 140, 229, 268, 305; coef¤cient of variability, 66; contents, 103–105; dimensions, 56, 59, 103 feature types: artifact concentrations, 56, 60, 61, 70, 74, 104; basin-shaped, curved-bottomed pits, 56, 60–63, 73, 91, 94, 104, 201, 297–301; basinshaped, ®at-bottomed pits, 56, 60, 61, 63–64, 91, 92, 104, 108, 271, 297– 301; bell-shaped pits, 56, 60, 61, 65– 67, 73, 91, 92, 104, 108, 271, 297– 301; dark-stained areas, 56, 60, 61, 72; hearth dumps, 56, 60, 61, 70, 74, 271; hearth pits, 56, 60, 61, 67–70, 73, 91– 92, 104, 105, 271, 297–301; indeterminate, 56, 60, 61, 72–73; irregularly shaped pits, 56, 60, 61, 68, 299–301; post molds, 56, 60, 61, 72, 101; shell caches, 56, 60, 61, 70–71, 74, 105; straight-sided, ®at-bottomed pits, 56, 60, 61, 64–65, 73, 91, 92, 104, 108, 271, 297–301 ¤rearms. See guns
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365
¤re/hearth experiments, 73 Fish Hatchery site (LA), 276, 278, 279, 20 Florence A chert. See raw material, lithic ®otation. See Lasley Vore site Fluor Daniels Construction Company, 44, 49 Fort Coffee focus, 81, 136, 137, 194, 219 Fort Gibson (OK), 5, 11 forti¤cations, defensive, 135, 336n. 8:13 Fort Malouin. See Nasoni trading post Fort Michilimackinac (MI), 277, 278, 279, 280, 286 Fort Smith (AR), 11 Fort St. Joseph (MI), 277, 278, 279, 280 Fort Towson (OK), 11 French: colonization of Canada, 32; colonization of Mississippi Valley, 32–34; commercial foundations, 33– 34; fur trade, 32, 33, 124; trade, 35, 274, 275, 281 Fresno point, 47, 84, 101, 230, 234, 238 Frisco chert. See raw material, lithic frizzen spring, gun. See guns front site, gun. See guns functional unit (FU), 244, 245, 259 gar scale object. See bone/antler tools Gary point, 84, 231, 234, 239 Geneseo Plain/Brushed pottery. See pottery wares geomorphology: coring methods, 143– 144; testing Arkansas R iver, 144–145 George C. Davis site (TX), 124 gifts. See trade Gilbert site (TX), 194, 218, 334nn. 6:8, 9, 13 graver, stone. See stone tool types Great Bend aspect, 24–25, 81, 85, 136, 190, 230, 268 grinding/ground stone. See stone tool types Guebert site (IL), 277, 278, 279, 280, 286, 333n. 6:5, 334n. 6:11 gun®int. See stone tool types guns: appearance on sites, 281, 334nn. 6:8, 9; barrel, 93, 95, 96, 98, 100, 137, 284; butt/butt plate, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 100, 286; cock hammer/top jaw, 93, 95, 96, 286, 287; front site, 93, 96, 286; sear/frizzen spring, 93, 95, 96,
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286; side piece, 93, 94, 95, 285; thumb plate escutcheon, 93, 94, 95, 285–286; trigger guards, 93, 94, 95, 284–285 hammer, stone. See stone tool types Hampton site (OK), 39–40, 102, 336n. 8:16 Harahey knife, 40 hearth. See feature types heat alteration of silicates, 249–250, 258, 266, 320 Henrietta focus, 136, 137, 190, 191, 337n. 8:19 hide scraping. See stone tool activities Historic Sites Act of 1935, 42 hoe, bison scapula. See bone/antler tools horses, 1, 7, 14, 16, 18, 19, 21, 131, 136 horseshoe, iron, 288 house construction: digging pits for wattle-and-daub buildings, 62, 73; evidence for, 72, 105, 125. See also Lasley Vore site, structures Humana, 23 Indian Territory, 11 Iroquois, 25, 32 Irving, Washington, 5, 6 Iscani. See Ascani jars, pottery. See pottery vessels Jefferson, Thomas. See Louisiana Purchase Jenks-Bixby survey, 38–40 Joe Clark site (LA), 124 Johns Valley chert. See raw material, lithic Juchereau de St.-Denis, Louis, 37, 136 Kadohadacho confederacy, 2, 15 Keokuk chert. See raw material, lithic kettle/kettle part, metal, 98, 288 K ichai: guides, 1, 35, 135, 136; occupation, 135, 137, 274, 336n. 8:16; tribe, 13, 14, 25 K imberly-Clark Company, 43, 44, 49, 72 knife/razor blade, metal, 93, 97, 98, 191, 287–288 K nife R iver ®int. See raw material, lithic Kolmogorov-Smirnoff test, 307 La Harpe, Jean-Baptiste Bénard, Sieur de: diary, xvi, 1, 38, 92; early career, 34; later career, 36–37, 140; trade with Indians, 1–2, 8, 36, 101, 130, 131, 138,
Index 275, 276, 281; trip northward, 1–2, 7– 9, 24, 27, 31, 35–36, 130 land runs, 11 Langtry point, 84, 231, 234 Larcom-Haggard site (KS), 124, 193 La Salle, Robert Cavelier, Sieur de, 25, 31, 32, 37 Lasley Vore site: background and situation; 15, 39, 43–44, 46, 49; chronology/radiocarbon, 101, 138, 139, 291–295; Ditch Witch trenching, 45–48, 49, 51, 60, 64, 71; excavation and test pitting, 38, 48–50, 51; ®otation, 50, 90, 319, 320, 332n. 4:5; interpretation, 73–74, 75, 99–100, 101–103, 115, 138, 190, 191; isolation of features, 47, 48–50, 51; metal detector, 48, 92, 96; mounds, 44, 51, 128, 134, 139, 332n. 4:2, 335n. 8:11, 336n. 8:12; structures, 101, 103, 127, 138–139, 140; survey, 43, 51; water screening, 48 Latanier soil series, 146–147, 148, 153, 154 Law, John, 33, 37 Lawton site (LA), 276, 277, 279 Lewis and Clark expedition, 10 linear regression analysis, 297, 298 Little R iver focus, 24–25, 221 Little Rock, 8, 140 Longest site (OK), 15, 39, 105–106, 230, 274, 288, 333n. 6:7, 334n. 6:8, 335n. 8:9, 336nn. 8:12, 14 Long expedition, 10 Los Adaes site (LA), 276, 277, 279 Louisiana Purchase, 10 Love site (OK), 274 Lower Walnut focus, 24–25, 77, 199, 213, 215 Luna y Arellano, Tristán de, 25, 29–30 Malone site (KS), 124 Mann-Whitney U-test, 307 Margil de Jesús, Father Antonio, 35 Marion focus, 24–25 Marquette and Joliet expedition, 28, 32 Maud point, 84, 101, 230, 234, 238 McLelland site (LA), 124 Menéndez de Avilés, Pedro, 30 metal detector. See Lasley Vore site metals: distribution of, 111, 121, 281, 282–
Index 284; metal index, 92; recycling metal implements, 96, 97, 98. See also economizing behavior microdebitage. See debris, small-sized lithic migration: Apache, 20–21; general, 25; Oneota, 25; Wichita, 12, 26 minimum number of individuals (MNI), 77, 189 Miscellaneous Undesignated pottery. See pottery wares missions, Spanish: in La Florida, 30; in Southwest, 35, 36 Missouri tribe, 92, 137 Mobile, 33, 35 Moore¤eld chert. See raw material, lithic Moore site (OK), 213 musket. See guns nail/spike/staple, iron, 288 Naouydiche, 4, 6, 7, 131, 136 Nasoni: tribe, 1; trading post, 1, 2, 15, 35, 36, 37, 38, 136 Natchez: Grand Village of the, 334n. 6:9; tribe, 13 Natchitoches post, 35, 191, 277 National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA), 42 National Register of Historic Places, 42 Negro participants in La Harpe’s journey, 2, 4 Neosho focus, 81, 136, 194 New Laws of 1542, Carlos V’s declaration of, 29 New Orleans, 28, 33 Noble Lake site (AR), 124, 333n. 6:7, 334n. 6:13, 336n. 8:12 Nodena point, 100, 101, 231, 234, 238 Norteño focus, 81, 136, 137, 191 notched piece. See stone tool types novaculite. See raw material, lithic Nuttall, Thomas, 10, 11 Oñate, Juan de, 24, 29 Osage, 6, 15, 19–20, 26, 92, 101–102, 137, 336n. 8:17 Osage Savanna, 4, 6, 7 Ouachita Mountains, 2, 7, 36, 136 Ousitas. See Wichita proper
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367
Padilla, Fray Juan de, 23 Paint Creek site (KS), 194 palisade. See forti¤cations, defensive Pardo, Juan, 30 Parrilla, Don Diego Ortiz. See Spanish Fort Pawnee, 15, 17–19, 25 Pearson site (TX), 194, 334n. 6:8, 11, 13 Penters chert. See raw material, lithic Pierson chert. See raw material, lithic pipes/pipe bowls, 80, 81, 99 pits, prehistoric. See feature types polar coordinate system, 244 Polecat Creek, sedimentation, 143, 149–150 Posey Creek, sedimentation, 143, 146, 148, 149–150 post mold. See feature types pottery: distribution of, 111, 112, 121–122, 127, 199–201, 224–228, 301–303; functional attributes, 197, 202, 206, 210, 212, 213, 215, 218; occurrence on site, 47, 135, 139; technological attributes, 107, 195–196, 197, 201–222, 314–317 pottery clay, analysis of, 106–108, 128, 305–314, 319 pottery vessels: bowls, 79, 199, 205, 221; jars, 79, 199, 205, 212, 214, 217, 227; reconstructed vessels, 195, 196, 198– 199, 201, 202–204, 209, 210, 218 pottery wares: Braden Punctate, 201; Cowley Plain, 24, 78, 79, 81, 99, 193– 194, 199, 200, 201–209; Crockett Curvilinear Incised, 219–220; Deer Creek Brushed, 78, 79, 194, 200, 211– 212; Deer Creek Plain, 193; Deer Creek Simple Stamped, 78, 79, 194, 199, 201, 209–210; Emory Punctate, 221; Geneseo Brushed/Plain, 24, 194, 221; Miscellaneous Undesignated, 78, 79, 199, 218–222; Nash Neck Banded, 81, 201; Spiro Engraved, 219; Undesignated Shell-Tempered Incised (USTI), 78, 79, 80, 199, 200, 213–215; Undesignated Shell-Tempered Punctated (USTP), 78, 79, 199, 200, 215–218; Womack Engraved, 78, 79, 81, 100, 194, 199, 200, 212–213, 334n. 6:13; Woodward Plain, 193
368
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prehension of tools, 265, 267 preservation of organic remains, 183, 187 principal components analysis, 104, 299–301 projectile point, stone. See stone tool types protohistoric, de¤nition of, 331n. 2:3 Pryor, Nathaniel, 11 Pueblo peoples: Pueblo Revolt of 1680, 22, 29; trading relationships, 22, 25, 125, 335n. 8:5 Querecho. See Teyas Quidehais. See K ichai Quivira, 13, 23, 24, 137 radiocarbon dating. See Lasley Vore site, chronology/radiocarbon Radio Lane site (KS), 124 Radley soil series, 150 Raft of the Red R iver, Great, 35 raw material, lithic: Alibates silici¤ed dolomite, 86, 87, 240, 245, 257; Cotter dolomite, 85, 87; Elsey/ Penters/Pierson cherts, 85, 87; Florence A chert, 85, 87, 88, 240, 245, 257, 265; Johns Valley/Frisco cherts, 85, 87, 245; Keokuk chert, 85, 87; K nife R iver ®int, 86, 87, 240; Moore¤eld chert, 85, 87, 239; novaculite, 85, 87, 245; Oologah chert, 100, 268; Reeds Spring chert, 85, 87, 240, 241, 245; sandstone, 87, 88, 240 recycling of tools. See economizing behavior Red R iver expedition (Capt. Sparks), 10 Reeds Spring chert. See raw material, lithic repartimiento system, 28–29 retouch, stone tool, 126–127, 129, 132, 321, 329, 330 retouched piece, stone. See stone tool types rim sherd index, 195, 227 roasting. See cooking Rockafull, Doña Maria de, 34 Rocky Mountain expedition (Captain Pike), 10 rod, iron, 289 Rosborough Lake site (TX), 2, 3, 15, 28, 276, 277
Index Saint Augustine, 30 sampling: for geomorphic coring, 143– 145; for lithic analyses, 229–230, 241– 243, 320, 329; for pottery, 195–196, 306–307; for radiocarbon dates, 291 sandstone. See raw material, lithic San Saba Mission, 26, 137 Santa Elena, 30 Santa Fe, 28, 29, 30, 31, 35 scraper, stone. See stone tool types scraping activity. See stone tool activities sear, gun. See guns seasonal occupation of Lasley Vore site, 102–103, 128–129, 189, 190, 191 secondary deposition, 329. See also sweeping behavior shell. See faunal remains (at Lasley Vore) Sibley expedition, 10 side piece, gun. See guns Sirrine Environmental Consultants, 43 Skidi Pawnee, 13, 17, 31, 336n. 8:16 slavery, 2, 135, 336n. 8:17 Southern Compress site (LA), 276, 277, 278, 280 Spanish: access to ¤rearms, 23, 94; chain mail, 25; colonization, 27–30; economic incentives, 30 Spanish Fort, 14, 137, 334n. 6:8, 336n. 8:13 spoon handle, metal, 93, 97, 98, 288 stone tool activities (at Lasley Vore): food processing, 85, 88, 99, 123, 125, 127, 132, 139, 255, 267, 269; grinding/ abrading, 84, 85, 99, 123, 125, 127, 132, 252, 253, 255, 260, 266, 267; hunting/ projectiles/weapon repair, 85, 88, 99, 123, 125, 126, 129, 132, 136, 139, 140, 252, 253, 255, 260, 264, 266, 267, 268, 269; pounding/chopping, 84, 125, 127, 132, 252, 253, 255, 260, 266, 267, 269; scraping, 85, 88, 99, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 129, 132, 135, 140, 252, 253, 255, 260, 264, 265, 266, 268, 269; tool maintenance, 85, 88, 99, 123, 125, 126, 129, 135–136, 139, 140, 252, 253, 255, 260, 264, 266, 267, 269; woodworking, 85, 88, 99, 123, 125, 126, 129, 132, 140, 253, 255, 264, 267, 269 stone tools, distribution of, 111, 113, 121– 122, 127, 301–303, 329
Index stone tool types: biface, 83, 84, 88, 100, 111, 121, 127, 230, 231, 232, 245, 248, 249, 257, 266, 267; blade, 245, 248; core, 83, 88, 100, 231, 233, 245, 246, 257, 266, 268; debris/debitage/®akes, 83, 85, 99, 121, 122, 129, 230, 231, 245– 248, 252, 255, 257–258, 259, 266, 267, 321, 329; denticulate, 82, 83, 231, 233, 238, 242, 245, 248; drill, 82, 83, 124, 126, 231, 233, 238, 242, 248, 266; graver/burin, 82, 83, 126, 231, 232, 233, 237, 238, 248, 266; grinding tool/abrader, 83, 88, 101, 103, 111, 121, 122, 127, 129, 132, 138, 230, 231, 236, 245, 252; gun®int, 83, 84, 231, 233, 238, 243, 333n. 6:5; pounding tool/ hammer, 83, 88, 231, 236; projectile point, 47, 83, 84, 99, 100, 101, 111, 121, 124, 125, 126, 129, 230, 231, 234, 245, 248, 249, 265; retouched/ notched piece, 82, 83, 111, 121, 122, 127, 129, 230, 231, 234–235, 237–238, 242, 245, 248, 249, 265; scraper, 82, 83, 86, 101, 111, 121, 123, 124, 125, 127, 129, 132, 230, 231, 234, 237, 240, 241, 245, 248, 249, 250, 265, 335n. 8:5 storage, 53–54, 55, 73, 91, 92, 99, 103, 105, 134, 139, 213, 335n. 8:9 Student’s t-test, 307–308, 314, 315 sweeping behavior, 55, 105, 122, 329 symbolic systems, 63–64 Taovaya, 1, 13, 85, 106, 135, 137, 227, 336nn. 8:13, 14, 15 Tawakoni: tribe, 1, 12, 13; village, 1, 8, 35– 36, 37, 39, 40, 106, 130, 131, 140, 141 Tawehash. See Taovaya Teyas, 21, 22 Thompson site (KS), 124 thumb plate escutcheon. See guns tinkling cone, 47, 93, 97, 98, 100, 288 Toayas. See Taovaya Tobias site (KS), 124, 336n. 8:12 Touacaro. See Tawakoni trade, 1, 8, 34, 36, 88, 92, 94, 100, 124, 275. See also Wichita, trade
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trading post, La Harpe’s. See Nasoni trading post Trail of Tears, 11 trash heaps. See dumps (garbage) trigger/trigger guard/trigger plate. See guns t-test. See Student’s t-test Turco (“The Turk”), 13, 23 Undesignated Shell-Tempered Incised (USTI) pottery. See pottery wares Undesignated Shell-Tempered Punctated (USTP) pottery. See pottery wares unicorn, 6, 7, 331n. 1:4 use-wear analysis, lithic, 85, 122, 123, 124, 125, 127, 129, 230, 244, 250–255, 258– 265, 269, 319 Utes, 22, 23, 26 Verrazano expedition, 32 Villasur expedition, 31 Voyageur, 134, 191, 335n. 8:10 Waco. See Ascani Washita R iver phase, 136, 137, 190, 336n. 8:19 water screening. See Lasley Vore site wattle-and-daub buildings. See house construction Wealaka R idge, 38, 39 Wichita: diseases, 12, 13; identi¤cation with, 99, 124; housing styles, 14, 131, 132, 135; language, 12; location and historic migrations, 11–12, 15, 26, 136, 137, 138, 140; political organization, 12–13; residential organization, 14, 128, 131, 334n. 8:2; settlement patterns, 12, 14, 86; subsistence, 14, 74, 337n. 8:18; tattooing, 13, 131, 334n. 8:1; trade, 14, 92, 191, 266, 268, 274 Wichita proper, 1, 13, 106, 133–134 Williams point, 84, 231, 234, 239 Womack Engraved pottery. See pottery wares Womack site (TX), 137, 274, 276, 277, 333n. 6:7, 334nn. 8, 9 Wynona soil series, 146, 148–149