Gass 
 
 
JAMES Mclaughlin 
 
 L'. >>. Indian Inspector 
 
MY FRIEND THE 
 INDIAN 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES McLaughlin 
 
 UNITED STATES INDIAN INSPECTOR 
 
 FORMEBLT AGENT TO THE SIOUX AT DEVILS LAKE 
 
 AND STANDING ROCK AGENCIES 
 
 NORTH DAKOTA 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 
 0i>t iM'ott^itie pxt^ CambriDfle 
 
 1910 
 
£■'7 
 
 /.i 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY JAMES MCLAUGHLIN 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Published April iqio 
 
 ©C1A261167 
 
TO MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 WHOSE GOOD PARTS SURVIVE 
 
 AS A MONUMENT OVER THE 
 
 GRAVES OF A VANISHING RACE 
 
m 
 
 u 
 
PREFACE 
 
 A WORD of explanation may be granted a man 
 who has spent the greater part of a rather busy 
 life in fields far remote from literary labor, 
 and who now finds himself thrust into a position 
 where he and his motives may be misjudged. 
 
 Let me say that this work was not undertaken with- 
 out serious thought and many misgivings. Not that I 
 had no story to tell, but that I doubted my capacity 
 to put into readable form the things I have seen or had 
 a part in, and the conclusions I have drawn from my 
 observations. For thirty-eight years I have lived 
 among, or had oflScial dealings with, a race of people 
 little understood by the whites who have displaced 
 them in carrying out the immutable law of the sur- 
 vival of the fittest. It is not the least of my possessions 
 that I hold the confidence of these people. I may say 
 now that in the following pages I have said nothing 
 that will jeopardize the relation that is as a bond be- 
 tween the red men of the West and me. 
 
 My friends in official and private life have been 
 good enough to assume that what I know of the In- 
 dian, of his losing struggle for an existence according 
 to his own ideals, of his manner of living, mode of 
 thought, habit in action and repose, and of the things 
 that have happened to him on the long trail he has 
 traveled in the processes of evolution since I first be- 
 came intimate with him on the plains of Dakota in 
 1871, might be worth setting down for the information 
 [ vii] 
 
PREFACE 
 
 of my contemporaries and the correction of some 
 errors which are, unfortunately, but too common. 
 Under the constant urging of these perhaps too partial 
 friends, this work was undertaken. I had thought to 
 use the autobiographical style throughout, but it was 
 so necessary to incorporate in the work momentous 
 occurrences in which I had no part, but which were 
 described to me by the red men who participated in 
 them, that I have not always adhered to this style. 
 The things I have related of my own knowledge may 
 be depended upon as being as nearly correct as may 
 be, allowing for human defects ; those other — and 
 perhaps more important — matters which are given 
 on the relation of the participants, tell the Indian's 
 side of many a disputed event. I have exercised due 
 care to accept no statement of fact, unless the person 
 responsible for it was known to me to be worthy of 
 credence. 
 
 The following pages were written at agencies and 
 training-schools in many reservations, from Standing 
 Rock, North Dakota, to Round Valley, California. 
 I do not know that they carry the atmosphere in 
 which the events treated occurred and were written 
 of, but I do know that sincerity of purpose, strength- 
 ened by the environment of Indian life as it is to-day, 
 has actuated the writing of every word. And the work 
 must stand as it is — or fall. 
 
 Following as I do in the footsteps of the men of dis- 
 tinction in the learning of the books and the fields who 
 have written of the Indian as he is and as he is not, 
 I must throw upon the shoulders of these partial 
 friends, who urged me to this work, the responsibility 
 for my emergence from the gloom of the council-fire, 
 
 [ viii ] 
 
PREFACE 
 
 from the sordid surroundings of the Indian of to-day, 
 into the limelight of that publicity which shines on the 
 man who has the temerity to put himself into a book. 
 I can make no claim to the use of those literary graces 
 which might adorn a tale, but I have tried in this 
 writing to discharge what I have been told is a duty. 
 If the contention is made that I have written from the 
 Indian rather than from the white man's point of view, 
 then I have no rejoinder to make, but am willing to 
 rest content in the knowledge that I have done justice 
 to "My Friend the Indian." 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 I. Moving into the Indian Country 
 
 1 
 16 
 
 II. On the Threshold of Civilization 
 
 III. Life with the Agency Indians . . 
 
 IV. Brave Bear and the Only One 40 
 
 V. When Cupid Camps with the Sioux ... 59 
 
 VI. How Crow King stopped the Medicine Men 77 
 VII. The Great Buffalo Hunt at Standing Rock 97 
 VIII. The Battle of the Little Big Horn . . .117 
 IX. The Battle of the Little Big Horn, Con- 
 tinued 136 
 
 X. Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull's View of the 
 
 Custer Tragedy 162 
 
 XI. When Sitting Bull's Medicine failed . . 179 
 XII. The Death of Sitting Bull 194 
 
 XIII. How the Indian gets his Name 223 ^' 
 
 XIV. Indian Sympathies 237 
 
 XV. Permanent Indian Villages 249 
 
 XVI. On the Making and Breaking of Treaties 260*^ 
 
 XVII. Modern Treaty-Making 290 
 
 XVIII. Captain Jack and his Modocs 315 
 
 XIX. The Masterly Retreat of Joseph and his 
 
 Nez Perces 344 
 
 XX. The Unwhipped Utes 372 
 
 XXI. Give the Red Man his Portion 388 
 
 Index 405 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 James McLaughlin, United States Indian Inspector 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 An Untamed Indian 12 
 
 Crows dancing the Omaha or Grass Dance . . 32 
 An Indian Dandy. Young Crow making his Toilet 
 
 FOR the Dance 40 
 
 Spotted Tail 72 
 
 Crow King 90 
 
 Chief Gall 120 
 
 Curly, a Survivor of the Custer Command in the 
 
 Little Big Horn Fight, with his Wife and 
 
 Child 158 
 
 Sitting Bull 184 
 
 Lieutenant Bull Head in Indian Costume .... 216 
 The Standing Rock Indian Police, Survivors of 
 
 THE Sitting Bull Fight 220 
 
 Rain-in-the-Face 226 
 
 John Grass 278 
 
 Two Moons, Northern Cheyenne Chief . . , . . 306 
 
 Chief Joseph 346 
 
 Finis 382 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 MOVING INTO THE INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 Wherein the Personal Element is Necessarily Obtruded — Changes 
 that have come about in a Generation — Leaving St. Paul for Fort 
 Totten — Five Hundred Miles by Bull-Team — Getting Acquainted 
 with the Indians. 
 
 FOR thirty-eight years I have been saying " How" 
 to the Indian man rather more frequently than 
 I have been permitted to salute the white man 
 according to his forms. When first, as an employee 
 of the government, I answered the grave salutation 
 of the red man, the buffalo roamed at will over the 
 great plains of the Sioux country; the Indian stood 
 just without the threshold of civilization ; the mailed 
 fist of the military was cufiing the untutored men 
 of the grass-lands into a sense of the beneficence of 
 the peace policy inaugurated by General Grant ; the 
 iron horse had not crossed the Minnesota bound- 
 ary ; the dull, plodding ox was the courier and herald 
 of the culture that was stowed in embryo in the 
 prairie schooner; Chicago was just beginning to 
 throw off its swaddling-clothes under a blanket of 
 smoke; St. Paul was the frontier to the northwest, 
 and bad men flourished in the towns to the west and 
 south on the borderland beyond the Missouri; Jim 
 Fisk was a king in Wall Street, and the uncrowned 
 [1 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 kings of the people who lived in tepees were entirely 
 ignorant of the existence of the lords of high finance. 
 
 And that was only a generation ago. In the span of 
 a life whose better years have been spent very close to 
 the scent of the tepee smoke, I have seen the Indian 
 prostrated by the hand he kissed, and biting the 
 hand that fed him; I have held savage passions in 
 check when the Indian stood ready to spring in bloody 
 protest on the white man whose coming he resented 
 and whose beneficent intent he did not understand. 
 I have, even more frequently, stood between the 
 white man and the Indian whose rights he contem- 
 plated taking from him by the processes of what we 
 have come to describe as benevolent assimilation. 
 While I enjoyed and still enjoy the friendship of white 
 men who are very dear to me, I have done many 
 things that were dictated rather by a sense of the rights 
 of the red man than by the promptings of racial affili- 
 ation, and I hold to nothing more firmly, am proud of 
 nothing so much as of the fact that my red friends of 
 the West have given me the title of friend. 
 
 It is a small thing to be proud of, some one will 
 say, the friendship of the Indian. I say it is much to 
 have been able to guide the uncertain steps of a sim- 
 ple people across the threshold of civilization, and 
 help to lead them to a realization of the domination of 
 the white man and the impending extinction of their 
 race as an element in the great affairs of men ; to have 
 been able to help convince the Indian that he would 
 gain by bartering his position as a free agent following 
 the dictates of his nature and keeping to the traditions 
 and lands of his ancestors. I would not be understood 
 as claiming for myself any undue prominence in this 
 [2] 
 
MOVING INTO THE INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 work: I was part of the machine organized by the 
 government for the civilization of the Indian, and as 
 a part of that organization I did the work that was 
 appointed me by such means as I could devise. The 
 predecessors of my generation of Indian officials, 
 men of heart and brain and brawn, who had the 
 pioneer work among the Indians, accomplished much 
 as individuals, notwithstanding the fact that they 
 had been isolated. When I entered the service the 
 military arm was the only power that appealed to 
 the Indian, To the men of my time was appointed 
 the task of taking the raw and bleeding material 
 which made the hostile strength of the plains Indians, 
 of bringing that material to the mills of the white 
 man, and of transmuting it into a manufactured pro- 
 duct that might be absorbed by the nation without 
 interfering with the national digestion. In doing 
 my part toward bringing about this transmutation, 
 I went to the Indian, instead of sitting in my office 
 and waiting for the Indian to come to me. The duty 
 was not always congenial ; it sometimes led to things 
 and places that I would not have elected to seek out. 
 But it all brought me very close to the red man. I 
 believe I came to understand Indian human nature; 
 I found that, under the blanket in which the Indian 
 shrouded himself, there was a heart and mind alto- 
 gether human, but undeveloped. I believe that the 
 Indian was a man before outrage and oppression 
 made him a savage. I have known him as a savage, 
 a fighting man, in the pride and insolence of his 
 strength ; I have known him as a sage in council, then 
 as a beggar with the pride starved out of him. I have 
 sat with him at his feasts and councils. I have not 
 [3] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 asked more of him than he could give, nor promised 
 more than I could fulfill. It must not be supposed that 
 I took this attitude from motives higher than have 
 inspired other men who have dealt with the Indian. 
 It was early made manifest to me that the policy of 
 simple honesty was the only possible policy to apply 
 to commerce with the red man. 
 
 I say these things, not in a vainglorious spirit, 
 but to justify myself in asserting a right to the title 
 of friend of the Indian. If I have come to know the 
 Indian intimately and understandingly, I have earned 
 the right to tell of him as I know him, and these pages 
 are justified. 
 
 In the later sixties an impossible condition had 
 arisen in the relations of the white man and the In- 
 dian. The Caucasian had wheeled the car of progress 
 up to the border of the Indian land, and had been 
 compelled to halt until the red man had been coerced, 
 cajoled, or compelled to get out of the way. Coercion 
 and cajolery had been pretty well worn out on the 
 Indian, and he had come to some sort of knowledge 
 of the fact that he must make a stand. During the 
 Civil War, and in the unsettled period succeeding it, 
 he had broken loose from the leading-strings of the 
 agents and had things pretty much his own way. 
 His roaming had not been materially interfered with, 
 and there is no doubt that he felt very well able to 
 take care of himself without any guidance from the 
 white man. The care that had been bestowed upon 
 him when he consented, theretofore, to render him- 
 self amenable to the arguments offered — backed by 
 fleshpots — by the whites, was not just what would 
 [4] 
 
MOVING INTO THE INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 appeal to any man, white or red. There had been a 
 good deal of chicanery in the administration of In- 
 dian affairs. He had been starved into rebellion and 
 beaten — sometimes — into submission. But during 
 the war he had tasted again the delights of practically 
 unhampered freedom. That this freedom took the 
 form of horrid license at times was shown by the awful 
 outbreaks indulged in on the frontiers. Those of the 
 Indians who lived in countries which were not yet 
 desired by the whites were living a wild, free life in 
 the midst of what they regarded as plenty. There 
 is no doubt that the roving bands were a menace to 
 travel on the plains, and that they would have to be 
 put on reservations if the white man was to be per- 
 mitted to carry out the great promise of which the 
 time was pregnant. 
 
 The entire regular army — or practically all of it — 
 was afield in pursuit of the Indians. General Sheri- 
 dan, whose opinion of the people he was engaged in 
 checking or fighting was summed in the phrase, 
 "There are no good Indians but dead Indians," was 
 in command in the field on the frontier. General 
 Sherman, whose notion of dealing with the Indian 
 was expressed in the statement that they must be 
 suppressed by "merciless and vindictive warfare," 
 was at the head of the army. These same sentiments, 
 as regarded the whites, were evidently held to by the 
 chiefs of the fierce and warlike tribes of Teton Sioux, 
 the Cheyennes, Comanches, Kiowas, Apaches, and 
 others, whose business was the chase primarily, but 
 plunder and war when ill-treatment gave excuse for 
 reprisals. In view of the expressed sentiments of the 
 great military leaders of the times, the attitude of the 
 [5] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 Indian is not calculated to cause great surprise — 
 viewed now at a distance of thirty-five or forty years. 
 At the time of the accession of General Grant to the 
 presidency every man's hand was raised against the 
 Indian, and, it must be admitted, the Indian had his 
 hand raised against white men generally. I do not 
 mean that all the Indians were inclined to the war- 
 path, but the greater portion of the warlike tribes were 
 afield and ready for trouble. 
 
 And they were a very different body of men, phys- 
 ically, from the Indians of to-day. They wore an 
 air of sturdy independence. They were equipped ac- 
 cording to their natural requirements. Their minds 
 were generally attuned to magnificent ideas of time 
 and distance. They abhorred the limitations that 
 the white man accepts as affecting his dwelling-place. 
 They were foes to be reckoned with, or they might be 
 converted into friends worth the having. It is a matter 
 for profound regret that the Indian of that day could 
 not have been advanced to his present knowledge of, 
 and capacity for, civilized pursuits without being 
 subjected to the debasing and degenerating physical 
 and moral conditions that were inseparable from the 
 processes of transmutation. 
 
 Just previous to the inauguration of General Grant, 
 commissions, composed largely of military men, had 
 proposed treaties to the more important of the tribes. 
 They had accepted the treaties, or some of their chiefs 
 had; and when General Grant, in his inaugural, 
 proclaimed the peace policy in dealing with the In- 
 dian, there was a fair prospect that the shedding of 
 blood on the frontier would cease. And it might have 
 ceased if the Indian could have been protected from 
 [6] 
 
MOVING INTO THE INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 his fool friends in authority, and the white man freed 
 in the smallest degree from the promptings of cupidity 
 that would tolerate no delay in grasping the riches 
 that had been the portion of the red man. 
 
 From the time of the signing of the treaties of 1868 
 up to the date of my entrance into the Indian service, 
 in 1871, there had been very large accessions to the 
 number of Indians living at the agencies. On the 
 extreme frontier there had been fighting, and many 
 isolated but bloody encounters took place. But the 
 Indian was different from what he had been a few 
 years previously. In the language of the bounding 
 West in which he made his habitat, it may be said 
 that, in 1871, the Indian was " halter-broke but he had 
 not yet been bitted." That was to come later, when 
 the bloody arbitrament of war had been appealed to 
 and the mighty tide of white men had engulfed and 
 submerged the red bands that stood in the way to the 
 setting sun and fortune. The operation of the law of 
 the survival of the fittest has not been applied, accord- 
 ing to the Indian canons of fitness, and the great men 
 of the red race, the last of a race of physical giants, 
 have passed away in the years that have intervened 
 since 1871. They have not yet been succeeded by the 
 race of mental giants that should follow them. But 
 in the process of eliminating the big men of the race, 
 some stirring events took place. In some of these 
 events I had a part, of many I was an interested ob- 
 server. And the relation of these events will properly 
 include the story of the passing of the Indian of 
 yesterday. 
 
 Born in 1842, in the province of Ontario, of Irish 
 and Scotch ancestry, — an accident of birth the dis- 
 [7] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 tinction of which I gladly share with some millions 
 of my contemporaries, — I arrived in Minnesota in 
 1863, with two strong, bare hands, and entered into 
 an apprenticeship for a career among the Indians 
 by becoming acquainted with many of them and of 
 their mixed bloods at St. Paul, Mendota, Wabasha, 
 Faribault, and other places in that then frontier 
 state. I had acquired some slight knowledge of the 
 Sioux language, and when, in 1871, Major W. H. 
 Forbes was appointed agent at Devils Lake agency, 
 in what is now North Dakota, and offered me a place, 
 with virtual charge of the outfit he was taking into 
 the Sioux country, I was in some measure equipped 
 for the position by an understanding of the manners 
 and customs of the Sioux. Looking back down the 
 vista of years, I see now that I was not nearly so well 
 equipped for a life among the Indians as I thought 
 I was when I mounted a horse and navigated a bull- 
 train of twenty yoke of cattle and ten wagons out 
 through the streets of St. Paul in the early morning 
 of July 1, 1871. 
 
 The expedition started from the present location 
 of the Hotel Ryan, St. Paul, and it had taken many 
 days and nights of hard work to equip the train 
 with the numerous articles necessary for the estab- 
 lishment of a post beyond the outskirts of civiliza- 
 tion. St. Paul was not the metropolis then that it is 
 now. There were outfitting places enough, and a 
 bull-train starting for the frontier was not such a rare 
 sight as to prompt the inhabitants to get out of bed 
 to see us off. 
 
 Major Forbes, who was a Christian gentleman and 
 a good friend, was quite prominent in the Northwest 
 [8] 
 
MOVING INTO THE INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 in those days. He had been chief commissary of 
 subsistence under General H. H. Sibley during the 
 Indian troubles, in war-time, in Minnesota, and had 
 served as president of the territorial council and post- 
 master at St. Paul. He was closely connected with 
 the leading men of his state, counting among his 
 closest friends General H. H. Sibley, Governor Alex- 
 ander Ramsey, Right Reverend John Ireland, now 
 archbishop of St. Paul, Commodore N. W. Kittson, 
 and General John B. Sanborn. His health was not 
 good at the time he was appointed to the Devils 
 Lake agency, and it was understood that the work 
 would largely fall upon me — understood, at least, by 
 Major Forbes. 
 
 Devils Lake is situated something like a hundred 
 miles west of the Red River of the North, in North 
 Dakota. From time immemorial it had been the re- 
 sort of the Sioux, the natural phenomena manifested 
 in and about the lake appealing to the superstitions 
 of the Indians. It was called by the Sioux "Minne- 
 waukon," spirit, or sacred water — suffering in the 
 translation as so many of the Sioux names of people 
 and places did. The lake, strongly impregnated with 
 salts and iron, is very brackish, and there are innu- 
 merable whirlpools, all of which were attributed by 
 the Sioux to the activity of the spirit that had its abode 
 in the lake and the surrounding country. While the 
 phenomena that were not understood may have 
 menaced the Indian through his superstitious fears, 
 the material attractions of the country quite over- 
 shadowed the immaterial drawbacks. It was a great 
 buffalo country. The mighty bison roamed the un- 
 dulating prairie in uncounted numbers, moving in 
 [9] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 very early days up to and along the Red River and 
 the Canadian lakes, and then away down to the great 
 plains to the southwest. As the settlement along the 
 Red River drove the buffalo back out of the valley, 
 the great herds made the Canadian boundary, or 
 thereabouts, the limit of their grazing land, and in the 
 fifties and sixties they occupied the country around 
 Big Stone Lake, the James River valley, and westward 
 over to and beyond the Missouri River. In the country 
 about Devils Lake they had been very numerous, 
 and had lingered there until the Red River half- 
 breeds and Indians became too thick, disappearing 
 from that country in 1868. 
 
 The Red River half-breeds had for many years 
 made Devils Lake the scene of the summer hunts. 
 They were descendants of the French voyageurs, 
 who had married the daughters of the northern tribes 
 and who had grown greatly in numbers and estab- 
 lished for themselves a local habitation on the Red 
 River, after the founding of the headquarters of the 
 Hudson's Bay Company, at, or near, what is now 
 Winnipeg. They were a happy-go-lucky lot, leading 
 an easy-going existence in the Indian style when they 
 were abroad, and after the fashion of the frontier 
 white man in their permanent habitations. Some day, 
 some one will arise who will write the epic of the Red 
 River half-breed, and the world will be the richer for 
 a knowledge of these people, half Indian, half French, 
 having the capacity for endurance of the one race and 
 the vivacity and appreciation of enjoyment of the 
 other, — of their devotion to primitive Christianity on 
 the one hand and their wild indifference to all tram- 
 mels on the other. They trapped in the winter, did 
 [10] 
 
MOVING INTO THE INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 service as voyageurs and freighters, and hunted the 
 buffalo for the hides and pemmican. They did all the 
 freighting for the old fur companies, and the screech- 
 ing protest of the wooden axles of the carts, which 
 they formed into trains miles long, could be heard on 
 the prairie long before the outfit came into sight, their 
 carts being built entirely of wood, with no ironwork 
 whatever in the construction, not even an iron nail 
 being used. The preparation of pemmican may not 
 have originated with the Red River half-breeds, but 
 they most assuredly preserved the art of making it. 
 Pemmican was made of buffalo-meat, which was 
 dried and then pounded into pulp; hides of buffalo 
 calves were made into sacks that were quite impervi- 
 ous ; the sacks were filled with the lean meat ; the tal- 
 low of the animals slaughtered was then melted and 
 poured into the sacks, the tops sewed up, and when 
 the mass hardened it would keep almost indefinitely. 
 Pemmican formed the most nutritious and easily 
 portable article of food, and was of great value to 
 travelers who made long distances over plains where 
 meat could not always be obtained. It was the ar- 
 ticle of diet most to be depended upon, and with very 
 little pemmican in his pack, a plainsman could travel 
 an incredible distance without fear of lacking ample 
 subsistence. In the neighborhood of Devils Lake, 
 an enormous quantity of this frontier delicacy was 
 made and sold to the Hudson's Bay and American 
 Fur companies. 
 
 These half-breeds made a permanent camp on the 
 
 south side of Devils Lake, and used that for a base 
 
 in their hunting expeditions, and here they had lived 
 
 for years, generally on excellent terms with the nomad 
 
 [11] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 Indians who hunted in the same country. It was for 
 the purpose of locating these wandering bands of 
 Indians that the reservation had been established on 
 the south side of Devils Lake. The Indians roamed 
 that section of the country from beyond the Minne- 
 sota border to away up north of the international 
 boundary — not yet surveyed and defined. The Cut 
 Head, Yanktonai, and bands of Santees were numer- 
 ous enough. Some of them were people who had been 
 frightened out of the vicinity of the Minnesota settle- 
 ments by the depredations of their kinsmen of the 
 Medawakanton, Wahpakoota, Sisseton, and Wahpe- 
 ton bands during the Minnesota Massacre, in 1862. 
 They were without a reservation home, and they con- 
 gregated at Devils Lake, on the appointed reserva- 
 tion, voluntarily. It had been provided in the estab- 
 lishment of the reservation, that when five hundred 
 Indians had gathered there an agent should be ap- 
 pointed. A military post had already been established 
 and garrisoned by United States troops. About this 
 post, or in the neighborhood, about seven hundred 
 Indians had congregated, and it was to minister to 
 these people that I started from St. Paul that morning 
 in July thirty-eight years ago. 
 
 My old friends of the frontier would remember a 
 trip with a bull-team across the meadow-like prairies 
 of northwestern Minnesota and Dakota in the early 
 seventies as a sort of progressive picnic — forgetting 
 the heart-breaking encounters with oxen that would 
 not move when they should, and could not be headed 
 off when a sudden stop was needful ; the breaking 
 down in places far remote from repair-shops, and the 
 remedying of the breaks according to first principles 
 [12] 
 
AN UNTAMED INDIAN 
 
MOVING INTO THE INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 in travel ; the camping in a strange country ; the pur- 
 suit of runaway cattle. They are all a joke to me 
 now, and the story would not at all appeal to the man 
 who leaves St. Paul, Minnesota, in a Pullman on the 
 palatial Northern Pacific train about midnight, and 
 eats his late breakfast before he reaches Jamestown, 
 North Dakota, in the morning ; so I am not going to 
 dwell on that trip of five hundred miles. There were 
 in the party Andy Atkinson of Faribault, wagon- 
 maker ; Hypolite Dupis, a character and frontiersman 
 who came into the country in 1831 ; Ben Nesbitt, 
 a colored man, who was an object of much curiosity 
 to the Indians of the plains. He was one of the few 
 black men in that part of the Indian country in those 
 days. There was another, named Isaiah, who had 
 lived among the Standing Rock Indians for many 
 years, and who was killed in the Custer battle. He 
 was with the white forces, and the Indians took a hor- 
 rible revenge on his corpse when they found that he 
 was among the dead soldiers. Two others, Haines and 
 Lechner, white men, made up the list of employees. 
 
 The country through which the trail led, after I 
 left St. Cloud, Minnesota, lay in a general way along 
 the road that had been established as a post-route, 
 which led away to the west, through Dakota and 
 Montana, and up into Idaho, reaching the mining- 
 camps. In 1867 and 1868, military posts had been 
 established at different points along the route, with a 
 view to protecting the mail-carriers from the maraud- 
 ing Indians. Major Charles Ruffee, now of Brainard, 
 Minnesota, had the mail contract, and he had suf- 
 fered great losses from the spoliation to which he had 
 been subjected by roaming or hostile bands. I believe 
 [13] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 he still has a claim for a considerable amount of 
 money which has never been allowed or paid. Gen- 
 eral Terry took a military expedition into the country, 
 and established and left garrisons at posts called Forts 
 Pembina, Ranson, Totten, Stevenson, Buford, and 
 then over into Montana. These posts did not all lie 
 along the direct trail, but were calculated to protect 
 the adjacent country. There were other posts estab- 
 lished later, at Jamestown and Bismarck, and at the 
 eastern end of the chain was Fort Abercrombie on 
 the Red River of the North. The country west of the 
 Red River was entirely devoid of white settlement 
 except for the military posts. It is almost inconceiv- 
 able that this should have been the fact ; but in those 
 days there was no Fargo, no Jamestown ; Bismarck 
 was still in the future, and Alexander McKenzie was 
 bending his genius in some other direction than boom- 
 ing the future capital. It was not until the next 
 year that the Northern Pacific crossed the Red River, 
 taking the white man along in its wake — it was not 
 safe to venture too far in front or to either side. In 
 the summer of 1872 Jamestown was a roaring camp, 
 and that fall the road went out to the Missouri. At 
 that day so terrifying was the winter to the people who 
 had not become inured to it, that no attempt was 
 made to operate the railroad west of the Red River 
 except in the summer-time. 
 
 And this was the country I was compelled to travel 
 through to reach the military post at Fort Totten, 
 beside which the Devils Lake agency was to be es- 
 tablished. The military — the fort was garrisoned 
 by three companies of the Twentieth Infantry — was 
 occupying a new set of buildings; the old post was 
 [14] 
 
MOVING INTO THE INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 abandoned for agency use and occupied forthwith. 
 It had been built in rather primitive fashion, and with 
 a view of impressing the Indians rather than of add- 
 ing to the attractions of the landscape. Around the 
 buildings, some of which were still occupied by the 
 mechanics attached to the post and for stabling pur- 
 poses, was built a substantial log-stockade. The new 
 post, partly erected the year before and completed 
 after my arrival, was of brick and very presentable. 
 
 Here I was welcomed in such fashion as might be 
 expected by Indians who did not know what might 
 be looked for from the new institution. They were 
 not exactly cordial. They were blanket Indians — 
 essentially I mean, and in their mental attitude. 
 Along the lake there were a number of half-breeds 
 from the Red River, who had lingered after the 
 buffalo had left the country. They gathered about 
 and gave us a vivacious welcome, with "bonjours" 
 in plenty, as well as offers of assistance — which 
 were declined firmly but kindly. 
 
 Tio Waste (Pretty Lodge), who was also known 
 as Little Fish, of the Sissetons, Wanata of the Cut 
 Heads, and Left Bear of the Wahpetons, all promi- 
 nent men, put themselves on the reception committee 
 and came in to get acquainted. The rest of the seven 
 hundred Indians, scattered about the reservation, 
 apparently inspired by the reverse notion of the society 
 woman's idea of etiquette, waited for me to go out 
 and leave cards at their residences — which attitude 
 they overcame when the fall set in and they became 
 hungry and cold — the ordinary condition of the 
 plains Indian at that day. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 ON THE THRESHOLD OF CIVILIZATION 
 
 The Indian looking in at the "Open Door" — The Disposition and 
 Attitude of the Sioux — "Bad Men" on the Border — The Rise to Fa- 
 vor of Sitting Bull — The Origin of the Sioux Bands and their Names. 
 
 IN that day thirty thousand Sioux roamed the plains 
 and valleys of the great Northwest. Those of 
 the tribe residing on the east side of the Missouri 
 River, having been more in contact with the whites 
 and having had their fiercer propensities curbed by 
 starvation, — incident to the disappearance of the 
 big game, — were no longer to be compared with 
 their warlike cousins of the Teton Sioux. They were 
 visited by and visited with the Tetons to some extent, 
 and those constant goings and comings had a demor- 
 alizing effect on them, while the Tetons still had 
 game in their country to rely upon and were indiffer- 
 ent to the blandishments of the white man who had 
 annuity goods to distribute. There were no rations 
 for the Devils Lake Indians, and they were held on 
 the reservation because they were peacefully disposed 
 rather than because they could get any immediate 
 gain from being enrolled at the agency. Since the 
 Minnesota Massacre these bands located in North 
 Dakota had roamed between the Minnesota settle- 
 ments and the country of the renegades from Min- 
 nesota who had crossed the Canadian boundary-line 
 in fear of the punishment that threatened them for 
 [16] 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD OF CIVILIZATION 
 
 their part in that ghastly affair. Another thing that 
 held them was their affection for the soil. This is a 
 distinguishing characteristic of the Indian — love of 
 his native country. Had the Indians been the nomads 
 they were regarded, there would have been very few 
 Indian wars, for outbreaks were nearly always caused 
 by attempts to dispossess the people of their ancestral 
 hunting-grounds. The Medawakantons, Wahpakootas, 
 Sissetons, and Wahpetons, comprising the somewhat 
 undefined family of Santee Sioux, belonged in the 
 country east of the Missouri, which might be broadly 
 described as lying between that river and the Mis- 
 sissippi. The Yanktons and Yanktonai — of which 
 latter band the Cut Heads were a sub or seceded 
 band — held a middle place between these people 
 and the Tetons. The Tetons looked with some con- 
 tempt on the eastern bands, and the latter affected 
 to believe that the Tetons were below them and 
 wanting in the intellectual development that had 
 come through friendly contact with the whites. The 
 Tetons were undoubtedly the finer people physically, 
 and more high-spirited and independent. But then 
 the buffalo lasted longer in their country. The bands 
 I have enumerated were all well within the white 
 man's sphere of influence at that time, and were wait- 
 ing with the Indian patience to be subjected to the 
 civilizing process — though they would have resented 
 being told so. As a whole they were harmless, but 
 individuals were in the habit of wandering off to the 
 west occasionally, or going to the north and indulging 
 in such exchange of courtesies as horse-lifting. 
 
 In the trans- Missouri country it was altogether 
 different. The Tetons were presumed, under the 
 [17] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 treaty to which their chiefs, or some of them, had 
 subscribed in 1868, to have a local habitation along 
 the Missouri River. Their place was in the Great 
 Sioux reservation, a magnificent domain extending 
 from the Nebraska line to the forty-sixth parallel 
 of latitude and from the Missouri River west to the 
 one hundred and fourth degree of longitude. The 
 extent of the reservation would appear to a white 
 man to have been suflScient to hold the Teton Sioux. 
 But it did not. They wanted elbow-room and they 
 took it by roaming over the entire country north of 
 the North Platte, up to the international boundary, 
 and west to the Big Horn Mountains. They hunted 
 the buffalo, made war on the Rees, the Mandans, 
 the Gros Ventres, and Crows, when they wanted 
 horses or were spoiling to fight: they affiliated with 
 the Northern Cheyennes and Arapahoes. They held 
 the borderland down to where the Kiowas and Co- 
 manches came in contact with them, and the latter 
 roamed the country to the point of contact with the 
 Utes and Apaches, and held the border in a state of 
 terror or anticipation of trouble, according to the 
 mood of the Indians. 
 
 At that time the border towns on all the western 
 frontier except Minnesota and Dakota — where the 
 peaceful east-Missouri Sioux stood between the set- 
 tlements and the warlike and predatory tribes — 
 had a considerable leaven of "bad men." Profes- 
 sional Indian fighters who, on occasion, would turn 
 their hands and ready guns to almost anything, from 
 gambling to freighting through the Indian country 
 and killing buffalo for hire, infested the smaller places. 
 They constituted an element born of the times, and 
 [18] 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD OF CIVILIZATION 
 
 they passed with the day of the warlike Indian through 
 the institution and enforcement of law. But they 
 added color to a time that was lurid enough; they 
 kept the Indians irritated by the cheapness in which 
 they held an Indian's life and his family, and, while 
 many of them yielded great service in strenuous times, 
 when the hatchet was dug up and the Indians were 
 on the war-path, they were by no means the romantic 
 individuals the writers have made them. They headed 
 the adventures into the Indian country, and they were 
 generally responsible for much of the deviltry of the 
 Indians. A dead tough was a dead white man — if 
 he had died at the hands of the Indians he was en- 
 nobled and made a martyr by his death and the means 
 of it, and furnished as good an excuse for attacking 
 the Indians and driving them back as though his 
 demise involved a real loss to society. 
 
 Another distinct class of men living in those days 
 at the outposts of civilization were the hunters and 
 trappers and guides who dwelt in the Indian country, 
 who were essentially men of peace, but possessed a 
 large measure of personal courage. They were the 
 real pioneers, for they attained to a knowledge of the 
 Indian, and, accommodating themselves to the In- 
 dian method of life, taught the red people to anticipate 
 the coming of the white man. Men of this class fre- 
 quently attached themselves to the agency staffs, and, 
 knowing the language of the Indians, were extremely 
 valuable to the officials, who too often were appointed 
 from stations in civil life which had left them totally 
 without knowledge of the people whom they were 
 sent to control. The Indian of to-day himself stands 
 much closer to civilized methods of life, has more 
 [19] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 knowledge of the conveniences and comforts of ex- 
 istence, than did these men who lived on the bor- 
 der a generation ago. In western Dakota, along the 
 Missouri River there were many exemplars of this 
 class. They helped to open the country, they guided 
 or guarded the early navigation of that stream, and 
 the West of to-day lies under an obligation to them 
 that would be discharged in any other than a republi- 
 can country. It was a far cry from "Wild Bill" 
 Hickok, who was killed in Deadwood in the early 
 days, to "Charlie" Reynolds, Custer's scout, who 
 died on the Little Big Horn ; but the men of whom 
 they were types were numerous enough on the border 
 in the early seventies, and each one of them contrib- 
 uted after his fashion to clearing the way for the 
 farmer and stockman who now occupies the country. 
 About 1870 and 1871 a large proportion of the 
 Teton Sioux were " out." The treaty of 1868, that had 
 been signed by Red Cloud, of the Oglalas, and some 
 other of the chiefs, was by no means to the liking of all 
 of the Sioux. The signing of it had cost Red Cloud 
 the loss of much of the influence he had wielded over 
 the Sioux of his own and other bands. He had been 
 the ideal chief, warlike and of abounding spirit, and 
 lacking altogether in the qualities of mind that made 
 Spotted Tail a diplomat and agency Indian. Spotted 
 Tail, who had been a warrior of renown in his youth, 
 came to understand that nothing was to be gained 
 in a substantial way from fighting the whites. Red 
 Cloud was inclined to fight or make peace as exist- 
 ing conditions indicated, but he became one of the 
 signatories to the treaty of 1868 without reckoning 
 with his host, the young man. He had made several 
 [20] 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD OF CIVILIZATION 
 
 appointments with the members of the commission 
 seeking to make the treaty, but he had broken the en- 
 gagements with contemptuous indifference, and when 
 he did meet them at Laramie he insisted on having 
 inserted in the treaty a provision permitting the Sioux 
 to hunt in the ceded Indian lands outside of the Great 
 Sioux Reservation. The treaty was an excellent one 
 in many respects, and the Sioux came, in later years, 
 to set great store by some of its provisions ; but Red 
 Cloud was rejected by the uncontrollable element 
 among the young fighting men of his people, who 
 blamed him for signing any treaty. It was this condi- 
 tion that gave Sitting Bull his opportunity. He pro- 
 fessed to be, and was, a thorough hater of the whites. 
 His medicine was Indian medicine, what the young 
 man wanted, and he got a following altogether out 
 of proportion to his merits as a leader, because he 
 was essentially an unreconstructed Indian — which 
 he remained to the day of his death. 
 
 So it was that, in the early seventies, a great num- 
 ber of the Sioux paid no attention to the fact that 
 reservations had been appointed for them and that 
 there were agents and agencies waiting for them. 
 Their country was rich in buffalo ; they were full- 
 blooded and well fed, — when they condescended 
 to visit the agencies and take rations, they frequently 
 took flour in sacks, emptied the flour out on the 
 j prairie, and used the sacking to make clothing. They 
 / were opposed to the establishment of post and stage 
 routes through their country, and there was a distinct 
 prospect that they would interpose a strenuous ob- 
 jection to the building of the Northern Pacific Rail- 
 road. Indeed Major General W. S. Hancock, then 
 [21] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 commanding the Department of Dakota, with head- 
 quarters at St. Paul, Minnesota, wrote in 1871 an 
 oflScial document in which he said that interference 
 by the Sioux and the Montana Indians with the con- 
 struction of the road might be expected, and that he 
 was unable to put, at the time, troops enough into 
 the country to hold the Indians in check. The event 
 proved that his fears were not altogether well founded. 
 The Indians might have felt that they were not strong 
 enough to interfere with the work, many of the people 
 having gone into the agencies for the winter and re- 
 mained there. But there were many depredations 
 and much bloodshed. The Indians sometimes had 
 the best of the encounter with the whites, but more 
 frequently the worst of it, and they were taught many 
 bitter lessons. 
 
 The country was unsafe generally, to the west of 
 the agencies as far as the Montana settlements — 
 where the Indian had early found that there was 
 nothing to be gained in the way of glory or pelf. In 
 those days there was not a ranchman between the 
 Missouri River and the Rockies, and practically no 
 settlement west of the Minnesota line, except in the 
 southeastern part of the territory of Dakota; and it 
 was not until the power of the Sioux was crushed 
 utterly and the leaders were converted into agency In- 
 dians that the white man on the prairie could reckon 
 on having a neighbor within a day's travel. 
 
 This condition to the west kept us unsettled at 
 Fort Totten and the Devils Lake agency. The Cut 
 Heads came and went between the reservation and 
 the agencies on the Missouri River. They formed a 
 connecting link between the two peoples. Sometimes 
 [22] 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD OF CIVILIZATION 
 
 they came in great numbers, and the agency stores 
 suffered in proportion. There was no provision for 
 the issuance of gratuitous rations or goods to the 
 Indians of Devils Lake agency. Under the treaty 
 they could get nothing except in payment for labor, 
 — a wise arrangement which did much more than 
 anything else in the way of policy ever formulated by 
 the white man in the matter of civilizing the Indian 
 and making him self-dependent. The old, infirm, and 
 indigent we had to take care of. But the visitor was 
 on a different list from that in which the agency In- 
 dian was enrolled. The agent was bound by custom 
 to ration visitors from other reservations. If the vis- 
 itors happened to be Cut Heads they were enrolled 
 and assigned to the reservation. Sometimes they 
 stayed; more frequently they remained through the 
 winter, only to disappear to the west again when 
 spring opened and there was a prospect of work at 
 home in planting time. They must go and see their 
 relatives. In the month of July, 1872, the enrolled 
 population of the reservation fell off from 902 to 719. 
 Sometimes they went off on excursions that involved 
 reprisals against Indians from the north and west 
 who had sneaked down and carried off their ponies. 
 These expeditions were generally bloodless, but they 
 kept things in a ferment. 
 
 Some of them who had been far to the west, en- 
 gaged in warfare, came in and settled down. There 
 was the case of Standing Buffalo's people ; Standing 
 Buffalo had been a man of importance among the 
 Sisseton Sioux. At the time of the Minnesota Mas- 
 sacre he had withdrawn himself and his following 
 from the Sissetons. He was a friend of the whites and 
 [23] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 did not want to be where he could be accused of any 
 complicity in the outbreak. He went far to the west, 
 into the Woody Mountain country, eventually, close 
 to the hunting-grounds of the Crows, the hereditary 
 enemies of all Sioux. He probably affiliated with the 
 Assiniboines, who are of the Sioux family, and had 
 a part in their wars with the Crows. He was killed 
 in a battle in 1869, and his people, headed by Shipto, 
 himself a man of standing, made their way back, 
 down through the country of the Gros Ventres, the 
 Arickarees, and the Mandans, and on, in a leisurely 
 way, to the Devils Lake reservation, where they set- 
 tled among their brethren. Shipto's influence was 
 cast for the white man, and he laid aside his warlike 
 tools and went to work. But for a long time he would 
 hide his axe when anybody approached the place 
 where he was working, feeling that it was degrading 
 that a warrior should be seen engaged in manual 
 labor. 
 
 The ties of blood are, with the Indian, very bind- 
 ing, and the ease with which various bands affiliated 
 without losing their identity was, and is still, one of 
 the peculiar features of these remarkable people. 
 
 The Sioux were a great nation in remote times — 
 as time is reckoned since history came to be written 
 in this country. They were of the great Siouan or 
 Dakota race, and it may have been that the nation 
 was formed of the scattered people, who, having a 
 common language, were allied for sociability or pur- 
 poses of defense. They did not require this alliance 
 because of their warfare with the whites, for during 
 many years it was the boast of the Sioux, who was 
 continually engaged in war with the tribes on all sides 
 [24] 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD OF CIVILIZATION 
 
 of him, that he had never shed the blood of a white 
 man. Their division into bands and the naming of 
 those bands have always been a matter of specula- 
 tion for bookish men who have studied the Indian. 
 The general absence of traditional history among the 
 Sioux prevents the acquisition of information as to 
 how or when the bands were organized, but the names 
 given them indicate, generally, a peculiarity or attrib- 
 ute that accounts for the descriptive title they took or 
 had bestowed upon them. The simplicity of thought 
 of a simple people is shown in the meaning of these 
 names. The habit of the Sioux, in this, will illustrate 
 the general practice of all Indian tribes. 
 
 The Cut Heads, whose name is literally translated, 
 get their title from the fact that when they withdrew 
 from the Yanktonai, there was a row over their se- 
 cession and a fight. Their leader sustained a scalp 
 wound and the name Cut Head was given them at 
 once and accepted without protest or question. 
 
 The Hunkpapas get their name from their heredi- 
 tary right of pitching their tepees at the outer edge of 
 the encampment commanding the entrance to the 
 village, as defenders of the camp, the word "Hunk- 
 papa" meaning the border or outer edge. 
 
 The Oglalas' designation is not easily rendered. 
 Among the Sioux, contempt and defiance for an in- 
 dividual are expressed by extending the hand at 
 arm's length and flicking the fingers toward the per- 
 son to whom the opprobrium is directed. The mo- 
 tion has been accepted as a deadly insult. It might 
 be regarded as a sign for expressing contempt by 
 throwing dirt in the face of another. When the Ogla- 
 las, a family allied closely by blood to the Brule 
 [25] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 Sioux, fell under the leadership of a man ambitious 
 to found a house of his own, who withdrew from the 
 larger body, it is said that, in leaving the others, they 
 expressed their contempt by making this sign and 
 were immediately dubbed the "Dirt-Throwers." 
 
 The Minniconjous acquired their name from their 
 practice of planting close to a stream, Mini-akiya-oju, 
 meaning " Planting-near- the- water," 
 
 The Two-Kettle band suffers in its title by the Eng- 
 lish translation, the Sioux designation meaning "Two 
 Cookings." The man who established the family as 
 a separate band made his boast that his people were 
 not poor, that the hunter always provided enough 
 food for two meals, or cookings, one pot being alto- 
 gether insufficient to contain the meat his prowess 
 as a hunter brought to the mess. 
 
 Wahpeton means "Village in the Leaves," indi- 
 cating a family characteristic, which led the people 
 to live amidst the trees. The Wahpakootas are, liter- 
 ally, "Leaf -shooters," the title coming from some 
 custom that has been lost sight of. 
 
 The Sans Arcs (without a bow) spring from a 
 family or clan that, through improvidence or choice, 
 failed to provide themselves with bows on the occa- 
 sion of some expedition. The family from which the 
 Blackfeet band of Sioux takes its title appeared one 
 evening in the general camp, after an unsuccessful 
 expedition, with their moccasins worn out and feet 
 blackened from having passed through a burned 
 prairie. The Loafers, a sub-band of the Brules, were 
 obviously named from their laggard and unthrifty 
 characteristics. Equally simple and significant of un- 
 important events are the names of other bands, the 
 [26] 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD OF CIVILIZATION 
 
 titles being bestowed by outsiders needing a descrip- 
 tion, and being frequently based on some ridiculous or 
 trifling incident. The proper name of the Sioux na- 
 tion, Dakota or Lakota, bespeaks, however, a fitting 
 appreciation of the importance of the tribe, the word 
 "Dakodia" or "Lakodia" meaning kinsmen allied 
 by a common language. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 LIFE WITH THE AGENCY INDIANS 
 
 Terrific Winters in the Early Days — An Entire Company of Sol- 
 diers frozen to Death crossing the Plains — Dealing with the Indians 
 without the Aid of Free Rations — Removal to Standing Rock Agency. 
 
 IN the dull round of life at the Devils Lake agency 
 during my first five years among the Sioux, no- 
 thing stands out so much as the frightful stress 
 of the winter months, when, isolated from the world, 
 we were weather-bound for five or six months of the 
 year. There is no sort of doubt in my mind that the 
 climate in the far North was more severe in those days 
 than it is now. We divided the year into two seasons, 
 winter and summer. There were about seven months 
 of the former, and five of the latter. It was no joke 
 that the old-timer in the territory of Dakota indulged 
 in when he said that his climate was made up of seven 
 months winter and five months bad weather. During 
 the winter, there was nothing to be done but to house 
 up and keep as comfortable as possible. The mails 
 were received at intervals marked by the weatherly 
 conditions. The Indians did not interfere with the 
 mail-carriers on the route that lay between us and the 
 settlements ; but the stations were far apart and many 
 a poor wretch met his death in crossing the prairie. 
 A few years prior to my taking up a residence in the 
 country, a detachment of soldiers making a winter 
 march was overtaken by a blizzard and the entire 
 \ 28 1 
 
LIFE WITH THE AGENCY INDIANS 
 
 command frozen to death. This occurred in the 
 neighborhood of Lake Traverse. Every winter some 
 of our Indians were badly frozen on or near the reser- 
 vation, but seldom fatally. The soldiers who were 
 posted at the stations on the mail-route often suffered 
 severely. Of these, there were two at each mail sta- 
 tion, whose business it was to exercise a sort of patrol 
 and maintain the stations as places of refuge for way- 
 farers. The trails were little traveled in the winter 
 months, and the soldiers led a life beside which that 
 of the sheep-herders who live in the solitude of the 
 great plains to-day is a round of gayety. 
 
 Under the articles of the treaty of 1867, which pro- 
 vided for the establishment of the agency at Fort 
 Totten, no rations could be issued to the people except 
 in cases of extreme destitution. Their life was a fright- 
 fully hard one, but the method of treating the people 
 was undoubtedly right. They were provided with 
 work, cutting logs and wood for fuel and fencing, 
 and paid in subsistence and clothing for what they 
 did. Compelled as they were to habits of industry, 
 in order that they might obtain the means of living, 
 they soon forgot that it was beneath the dignity of a 
 warrior to work. If they had been entitled to rations 
 or money payments, they most assuredly would not 
 have kept up the agency wood-supply, as they did. 
 The old people and the indigent were supplied with 
 the necessaries of life, but the others got only what 
 they worked for. 
 
 It was in 1875 that the death of Major Forbes oc- 
 curred. His death was preceded by a long illness, 
 which had left me in virtual charge of the agency at 
 Devils Lake, and in May, 1876, I was appointed to 
 [29] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 fill the vacancy. There were many applicants for the 
 place, and an appointment was even made and then 
 withdrawn because of opposition, and my appoint- 
 ment followed. In 1880, I was offered the agency at 
 Standing Rock. The place was an important one 
 from the fact that many of the Indians had been out 
 as hostiles, and they required treatment by a man 
 who knew the Sioux. Father Stephen, who was later 
 director of the Bureau of Catholic Indian Missions, 
 with headquarters at Washington, was then the agent 
 at Standing Rock. At the time there was a condition 
 that required explanation, and I waited for the matter 
 to be arranged. Some one had been guilty of tam- 
 pering with the scales used in the weighing of the 
 beef cattle delivered for the Indians, which had to be 
 investigated and responsibility therefor determined. 
 Consequently, it was the fall of the following year 
 before I moved to Standing Rock. 
 
 The sun-dance was the most baneful of the old-time 
 practices of the Sioux people. It was not, as is gen- 
 erally supposed, a function to test the personal cour- 
 age of the candidates for place among the warriors. 
 That was merely an incident of the ceremony. It was 
 held for the purpose of propitiating by personal sac- 
 rifice the Great Spirit, and placating the pernicious 
 spirits of the earth. It was an oblation purely, the 
 persons taking part desiring to show that they were 
 willing to submit to personal suffering in the hope 
 that the community would be blessed in the harvest, 
 or in any undertaking in which they were about 
 to engage. The sun-dance pole, which was usually 
 about twelve inches in diameter at the base and twenty 
 feet in length, was selected with much ceremony. 
 [30] 
 
LIFE WITH THE AGENCY INDIANS 
 
 After being carefully prepared, the larger end was 
 set in the ground a sufficient depth to give it firmness. 
 Throughout the preliminaries the medicine men 
 fasted and prayed, and during the dance the ears 
 of children were pierced. While the ceremony was 
 in progress, and the candidates were suspended by 
 lariats run through the muscles of their breasts or 
 back, from a cross-bar situated near the top of the 
 pole, the prayers and dancing went on without inter- 
 ruption, the selected singers chanting in weird and 
 mournful strains. The men fastened to the pole made 
 good their self-immolation by staring continually at 
 the sun, in consequence of which their eyes invariably 
 became terribly inflamed. Some of the lookers-on 
 would plead with the candidates that they be cut 
 down, to which they would not consent. On the con- 
 trary, they whistled continuously to show that they 
 were not affected by their sufferings. Other candi- 
 dates for the sacrifice had buffalo-heads attached to 
 their bodies by lariats with skewers through their back 
 muscles, and ran around jumping and dancing until 
 the weight of the drag broke the flesh away. Among 
 the Sioux, the sun-dance invariably continued three 
 consecutive days, the test of courage and endurance 
 being reserved for the last day. The lacerated wounds 
 received no attention in the way of dressing or being 
 cared for until the dance ended at sundown on the 
 third day. At one of such dances, which I attended in 
 1872, a young man had raw-hide thongs run through 
 the muscles of his back, the thongs being attached 
 to a cross near the top of the sun-dance pole, and 
 another young man was fastened to the pole by thongs 
 through the muscles of his breast. Both remained with 
 [31] 
 
 / 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 their feet barely touching the ground, swaying back 
 and forth for an hour or more before released by the 
 sorely tried flesh giving way. 
 
 Before leaving Devils Lake, I put a stop to a sun- 
 dance, and believe that it has never been practiced 
 there since. Learning that there was such a cere- 
 mony in progress at Wood Lake, about ten miles east 
 of Fort Totten, I took with me J. E. Kennedy, agency 
 clerk, and Tawacihomini, an Indian policeman, and 
 went to the scene of the dance. The Indians were in 
 the midst of this barbarous ceremony when we broke 
 through their ring and stopped the affair. It was 
 good evidence of their subjection that they stopped 
 without protest when ordered to desist, an outcome 
 that would not have been possible a few years pre- 
 vious, when such an attempt would doubtless have 
 resulted seriously to the sacrilegious interloper. 
 
 When I arrived at Standing Rock in September, 
 1881, things were very different from the situation 
 that had existed at Devils Lake. The hostiles, 
 starved into submission and recently surrendered, 
 were by no means tractable. Their attitude was that 
 of sullen resentment. Hunger had driven them to the 
 agency, and they were living on the reservation ; but 
 they were still sore at heart, and not in a mood to ac- 
 cept the leadership of the white man. Two things I 
 conceived to be necessary to their betterment and ul- 
 timate civilization. I was convinced that they should 
 be led to become farmers if the reservation was adapted 
 to agriculture; that stock-raising would permit too 
 much roaming and confirm them in their nomadic 
 habits. The other essential feature to the civilization 
 of the Sioux was the schooling of the children under 
 [32] 
 

LIFE WITH THE AGENCY INDIANS 
 
 conditions that would lead them into the habits of 
 the whites. I was measurably successful in showing 
 them that industrious tillage of the soil would lead 
 to prosperity, and successful, beyond my hopes, in 
 bringing the children into school. The ties of affec- 
 tion that bind the Indian child to the parent were the 
 greatest bar to the educational work, and I have told 
 elsewhere how, in the case of Crow King, that bond 
 was used to lead them to school. 
 
 I worked with the head men, and the others fol- 
 lowed so well that last summer, when I was on the 
 Standing Rock reservation, I found the greater part 
 of the children in school. But the beginning was 
 hard, up-hill work. The hostiles were outspoken in 
 their resentment of white domination, I sometimes 
 had to use drastic measures to make them reason- 
 able or to establish my influence. One old fellow, 
 named Long Soldier, about six feet, four inches in 
 height, had been loitering about the agency ware- 
 house for several days, and one day I asked him what 
 his object was, and he replied, that he was watching 
 to see that nobody stole any of the supplies that were 
 placed there for the Indians. I informed him that 
 his sentinelship in that respect was unnecessary, as 
 I would see to that. He declared with a showing of 
 ferocity, that the white men were all thieves and ene- 
 mies of the Indians ; and he menaced me with a knife. 
 He was a man of some standing among the hostiles, 
 and it occurred to me at once that the time had come 
 to impress him. I threw open my coat, and invited 
 him to use his knife on me. I charged him with being 
 a coward when he hesitated. Other Indians gathered 
 around, and I insisted that he had not the courage to 
 [33] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 kill the white man who he knew was his friend, but 
 whom he treated as an enemy because of his bad heart. 
 Another Indian, named Kill Eagle, came up, and took 
 the knife away from him, rebuking him for his cow- 
 ardice, and ordered him to leave for home at once, 
 which he did. That same fellow came to me a few 
 days later, and said he wanted me to be his friend; 
 that he regarded me as just and courageous, and that 
 he was convinced that the way of the white man was 
 the right way. Such strenuous appeal as this was not 
 often necessary in dealing with the people, but the 
 argument offered them had to be such as would ap- 
 peal to their intelligence, undeveloped as it was. 
 
 The years from 1881 to 1890 made the formative 
 period of the minds of the Standing Rock Sioux, for 
 the era of peace and education that set in so strongly 
 after the ghost-dancing had culminated in the death 
 of Sitting Bull. It took several of these years for 
 me to win the complete confidence of the hostiles. 
 They were surly and suspicious, but when they were 
 thoroughly won over, they made great and immediate 
 progress. I made Gall and Crow King my friends, 
 and they were important factors in leading the others 
 to civilization. To the influence of these two men and 
 John Grass, with others not so well known to the 
 whites, but who were powerful among their people, 
 might be ascribed the progress of the Indians under 
 my charge. They were made to understand that the 
 gradual withdrawal of Government assistance was 
 not due to the indifference of the Government to their 
 wants, but a means of making them self-dependent. 
 A good many of the older Indians declined to accept 
 the white man's burden of labor, but the able-bodied 
 [34] 
 
 i 
 
LIFE WITH THE AGENCY INDIANS 
 
 amongst them soon came to understand that, while 
 work might be degrading, according to the notion of 
 a warrior, it was essential if the warrior did not want 
 to starve to death. Sitting Bull always exerted a vi- 
 cious influence over this unreconstructed element, and 
 remained opposed to the white man's influence to the 
 last. 
 
 Grass, Gall, Crow King, and some of the others, 
 especially the agency judges and police, fought Sit- 
 ting Bull's influence at all times, and when he became 
 menacingly obstreperous during the period just before 
 his death. Gall asked to be armed. If he had been 
 given the guns he asked for, the death of Sitting Bull 
 might have been precipitated — also an internecine 
 war might have resulted. 
 
 There was one occasion when Sitting Bull appeared 
 to have accepted the conditions of peace, but it was 
 apparent afterwards that his attitude at the time of 
 the dedication and unveiling of Standing Rock was 
 inspired by a desire to take part in an affair that was 
 essentially Indian, and had to do with the medicine 
 of his people. 
 
 The Standing Rock, from which the agency at Fort 
 Yates took its name, was a remarkable petrifaction 
 or stone formation in the shape of a woman with a 
 child on her back. The figure was very life-like, and 
 the Indians had no doubt that it was a petrifaction. 
 I am inclined to believe that it was, myself, though 
 it is not life-size. The resemblance between the stone 
 and any one of a dozen Indian women with children 
 on their backs who may be seen about its site any day, 
 is striking enough to startle one. So many years ago 
 that the story of its discovery is lost in the maze of 
 [35] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 antiquity, the Sioux found the figure and ascribed to 
 it a place in their spiritual beliefs. It was venerated 
 as a sacred relic, but I never understood that any 
 peculiar powers were attributed to it. It stood as a 
 sort of fetich and was regarded with much reverence. 
 It was the common property of the Teton Sioux, but 
 it lay for years in the section occupied by the Lower 
 Yanktonai, and that band was the protector of the 
 rock. While the agency took its name from the rock, 
 the petrifaction was located some five miles above the 
 agency. I proposed to the head men that it be brought 
 down to the agency, and set up on a pedestal placed 
 on a height overlooking the Missouri, which height 
 was known as Proposal Hill, owing to the fact that 
 much of the courting indulged in by the young people 
 of the Garrison occurred while strolling over its slopes. 
 They acquiesced in this suggestion at once, and elabo- 
 rate preparations were made for the setting up of the 
 stone. 
 
 A great council was held, and it was decided by the 
 medicine men that the duty of dedicating and unveil- 
 ing the stone could only be performed by some man 
 possessing all the Indian virtues, and whose life was 
 stainless. It was not an easy matter to pick out a 
 man having these qualities, and there was much dis- 
 cussion. While the matter was being decided, the 
 rock was brought down to the agency and a pedestal 
 erected. 
 
 Along with this rock, there was another that was 
 also good medicine, it being the petrifaction of a little 
 dog, which Indian belief declared belonged to the 
 woman and must be kept with her. 
 
 There was a great deal of building going on about 
 [36] 
 
LIFE WITH THE AGENCY INDIANS 
 
 the agency at that time; and after the rocks were 
 brought down, the smaller one, becoming mixed with 
 the "nigger-heads" used for the building of a founda- 
 tion wall, was built into a wall and lost. The little 
 dog is not far removed from the figure of the woman 
 at whose feet it lay for years, but it is part of the wall 
 upon which one of the agency residences is built, a 
 few rods back of the site of the standing rock. 
 
 There was so much palavering and discussion as to 
 the merits of various virtuous Indians, that the rock 
 was ready for the dedication before a selection had 
 been made. Eventually, it was decided that Fire 
 Cloud, a member of Fire Heart's band of Blackfeet, 
 possessed all the needful virtues, and he was desig- 
 nated to perform the ceremony of dedication. 
 
 Fire Cloud had been a hostile, and his peculiar 
 virtues were intensely Indian, and therefore not of a 
 character to appeal to the whites. He was known as a 
 clean man and a most powerful worker on the spirit 
 in the matter of making prayers. I have heard no- 
 where more powerful or eloquent pleading than Fire 
 Cloud was capable of when the spirit moved him. He 
 undertook to make the stone ready for the dedication, 
 and he indulged in much preparation himself. His 
 heart and body had to be made clean for the work, 
 and this required much medicine-making. The day 
 before the date set for the unveiling of the stone. Fire 
 Cloud spent in painting with much elaboration the 
 figure of a woman. He used many colors, and each 
 stripe applied meant something sacred in the symbol- 
 ism of the medicine men of the Sioux. These sym- 
 bolical figures were held secret by the medicine men, 
 the common people not knowing anything about 
 [37 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 them, and some of them were undoubtedly invented 
 under the inspiration of the work engaged in. The 
 night before the ceremony, the painting was com- 
 pleted, except a few stripes that must be applied after 
 all was done, and the figure, standing on a rock pedes- 
 tal, was wrapped about in an ordinary blanket, and 
 all was ready. The next day, the people gathered for 
 the ceremony. Sitting Bull was there, his spirit appar- 
 ently tamed, and he a peace advocate for the first time 
 in his life. 
 
 I talked to the people ; told them how fitting it was 
 that the rock should be preserved and placed so that 
 it might be seen for miles up and down the Missouri, 
 to the end that travelers might know that the Sioux 
 lived, and were protected, on the lands that had been 
 their fathers'. Even the hostiles appeared to be grati- 
 fied. Then Fire Cloud stood by the rock, and pro- 
 nounced an invocation that was profoundly moving, 
 coming as it did from an Indian who had hitherto 
 shown no disposition to be at one with the whites. 
 Addressing the Great Spirit, he prayed for peace, 
 hoping that the erection of the monument would 
 establish a lasting peace in all the land, between the 
 Indians and the whites, and among the Indians as 
 well. He would have the Great Spirit bless the rock, 
 and the place, that it might be regarded as a pledge 
 of eternal cessation from warfare. Sitting Bull and his 
 people gave guttural assent in many "Hows" which 
 sounded like Amens. Fire Cloud prayed that the 
 Great Spirit would bless his red children and prosper 
 their crops, withholding the hail that had desolated 
 their fields the previous year. He turned to the In- 
 dians and charged them that it was their duty to 
 [38] 
 
LIFE WITH THE AGENCY INDIANS 
 
 observe the laws of the Great Spirit, and those among 
 them who had not clean hearts and hands should 
 stand abashed and humiliated in the presence of the 
 woman of the Standing Rock and the Great Spirit; 
 he called on them to repent and devote themselves to 
 leading clean and pure lives in the future. The appeal 
 and the prayer were exceedingly impressive, and 
 must have lasted an hour. At its conclusion, I per- 
 formed the ceremony of unveiling by removing the 
 blanket, and Fire Cloud added a few more painted 
 symbols. 
 
 To this day, Standing Rock remains fixed on the 
 brow of the hill overlooking the Missouri, but it is 
 not ^ impressive in its aspect as it was originally. 
 On one occasion, when I was absent from the agency 
 for some days, the employees concluded to surprise 
 me by pulling down the rock pedestal upon which the 
 Standing Rock was placed, and to show how the In- 
 dians had progressed in the arts of civilization, they 
 built for it a modern and less attractive structure of 
 brick and mortar. But it stands there in all its essen- 
 tiality as it was; and the spirit of peace invoked by 
 Fire Cloud has settled down to abide over the land 
 of the Teton Sioux to the west of the Missouri. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 BRAVE BEAR AND THE ONLY ONE 
 
 Notable Indian Crimes — The Slaying of the DeLormes — Ghastly 
 Forms of Indian Mourning — How One Elk held his Father-in-Law. 
 
 WHEN Brave Bear was hanged for his crime, 
 his father, an old Indian of the Cut Head 
 band of Sioux, came and sought me out 
 at the agency. 
 
 "Is my son dead?" asked the father. 
 
 I was nonplussed, for it was not given me to carry 
 on without feeling a conversation with a father about 
 a son who was hanged the day before. But I had to 
 make the best of it. The old man was very earnest 
 and not at all angry — though he might have charged 
 me with trying to rid the world of Brave Bear long 
 before he was finally overtaken by the fate that was 
 appointed him from the beginning. 
 
 "He is dead," I answered. 
 
 "Are you sure he is dead ?" persisted the old man. 
 
 " I have a telegram saying that he was hanged yes- 
 terday," said I. 
 
 "It is well," rejoined the old man. "We are glad, 
 his mother and myself, for he was a bad son." 
 
 And this frightful declaration was as near eulogium 
 as was ever pronounced on Brave Bear, a murderer 
 and habitual criminal — which few of his tribe have 
 been. They have been guilty of deeds of blood, but 
 none of them were sneaking murderers for a little 
 [40] 
 
BRAVE BEAR AND THE ONLY ONE 
 
 gain, as Brave Bear was. Even The Only One — 
 whose distinctive appellation might have pointed him 
 out as a notable exception to the common run of his 
 people, and whose hands were imbrued in blood 
 spilled for gain — was a very decent sort compared 
 to his companion in crime, Brave Bear. And he es- 
 caped the ignominy of the death that was the portion 
 of Brave Bear, dying in a desperate attempt to escape 
 after the most sensational sort of capture, and being 
 mourned in the most heart-breaking and barbarous 
 way by his wife, one of the handsomest women of the 
 Sioux nation — a people not wanting in women with 
 physical attractions. 
 
 Brave Bear was a sort of Indian dude. The Only 
 One was quite the contrary — by no means the dis- 
 tinguished individual that the hopes or fancy of his 
 parents painted when they gave him a name that 
 indicated how high a place he had in their esteem. 
 Brave Bear always had plenty of clothes, cheap jew- 
 elry, all the things that go to make the dandy at an 
 Indian agency — or did go to make such a personage 
 in the days when civilized garb was not so common 
 as it is now. How he maintained his well-dressed 
 habit I don't know, but suppose from his finish that 
 it was not by honest means. These men were not 
 much given to living close to the reservations, but 
 roamed about the settlements a great deal. They 
 might have lived by thievery. 
 
 In any event they attained distinction in the field 
 of high crime, when they found it to their purpose to 
 commit a frightful butchery while engaged in robbing 
 a settler named DeLorme, near Pembina, North 
 Dakota, in 1873. They had entered a stable for the 
 [41] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 purpose of stealing horses, and when two of the owners 
 arrived on the scene, they shot and killed both, and a 
 third man was mortally wounded. In the house were 
 two women, and the Indians attacked them, shooting 
 and wounding both of them. One of the women put 
 up her hands to defend herself from a blow aimed at 
 her head by Brave Bear, who carried a sword, and 
 who struck her with it. The blow cut off one of her 
 fingers, laid open her scalp, and stretched her appar- 
 ently dead; but she recovered, as did the other wo- 
 man. Brave Bear and The Only One rifled the place, 
 stole several horses, and escaped to the Missouri 
 River country, passing through Devils Lake reserva- 
 tion, where I then was. As soon as I learned of the 
 tragedy, I was convinced that Brave Bear and The 
 Only One were of the party who had perpetrated the 
 crime. They kept away from Devils Lake agency; 
 but, having learned the facts of the murder from 
 trustworthy Indians, I reported them to the proper 
 authorities. 
 
 I heard nothing of them for several years ; but one 
 day in the winter of 1878 word was brought to me 
 that they had arrived at Devils Lake and were living 
 among the Cut Head Sioux at the west end of the 
 reservation. Everything pointed to them as the au- 
 thors of the butchery at Pembina. It was common 
 knowledge among the Indians that they had com- 
 mitted the crime, but the people were afraid to in- 
 terfere with them. They were bad men, whose pre- 
 sence among the Indians and impudent indifference 
 to the authorities were demoralizing. Having con- 
 vinced myself by inquiry that there was no doubt 
 of their guilt, I made arrangements to capture them 
 [42] 
 
BRAVE BEAR AND THE ONLY ONE 
 
 in the early spring, before their ponies were in condi- 
 tion for them to start out on their usual summer raids. 
 
 The capture, to be made without bloodshed, must 
 be effected by surprise, and it must not fail, for with 
 the Indian, even more than with the white man, no- 
 thing succeeds like success. It would be useless to 
 attempt to take the men in their camp. They would 
 assuredly fight, and that was not necessary. But they 
 were very shy of coming to the agency. The only 
 thing to do was to call a council of their band. They 
 could not absent themselves from this without mak- 
 ing themselves too conspicuous for safety, and once 
 in the agency council-room we might handle them. 
 
 At the time two troops of the Seventh Cavalry, 
 Custer's old command, was in garrison at Fort Tot- 
 ten. I conferred with Captain James M. Bell, now 
 Brigadier General Bell, retired, who commanded the 
 post, and arranged with him for the necessary troops 
 when needed. 
 
 Planting time was approaching, and I sent out a 
 call for a council, to which all adult male members 
 of the Cut Head band were invited, and required to 
 attend; the ostensible object of the council being to 
 ascertain the acreage of land each family intended 
 to cultivate that year, so as to determine the quantity 
 of seed needed. The council was to be held in the 
 assembly hall, which was on the second floor of the 
 main building of the agency group. In the rear was 
 my office. The door to this was to be guarded by 
 employees of the agency, with one of the more mus- 
 cular at each of the two front windows, Thomas J. 
 Reedy guarding one window and Frank Cavanaugh 
 the other. It was arranged to have an armed squad 
 [43] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 of dismounted soldiers paraded behind the garrison 
 buildings, where they could not be seen from the 
 agency, so that when Brave Bear and The Only One 
 had entered the council-room the detail would, upon 
 a prearranged signal, double-quick to the agency, 
 file up the stairs, and secure the two Indians. 
 
 The plan worked, after a great deal of waiting and 
 more than an even chance of failure. Every other 
 Cut Head Sioux then on the reservation was seated 
 in the room before Brave Bear and The Only One 
 put in an appearance. They seemed to feel that they 
 were taking some sort of chance, and only the fact 
 that their absence would make them conspicuous 
 brought them in finally. Brave Bear came in first 
 and was not disturbed. Then came The Only One, 
 who cautiously ascended the stairway; and as soon 
 as he had entered the hall James Stitsell, agency har- 
 ness-maker, who was stationed outside for the pur- 
 pose, signaled the garrison, and Lieutenant Herbert 
 J. Slocum, U. S, A., now a major of cavalry, coming 
 from the post with a detail of eight men, in double- 
 quick time, closed in on the landing, filed up the stair- 
 way rapidly, and before the soldiers had reached the 
 head of the stairs leading into the room. The Only 
 One knew that he was trapped. He bounded through 
 the council-room and made for a door leading into 
 the office, which was in the north end, with the evident 
 intention of escaping through a window ; but his way 
 was barred there by John E. Kennedy, agency clerk, 
 and George H. Faribault, agency farmer, whereupon 
 he rushed back toward where I was standing, near 
 the front door, and being pointed out to Lieutenant 
 Slocum, was soon in the hands of the soldiers. 
 [44 ] 
 
BRAVE BEAR AND THE ONLY ONE 
 
 The other Indians were tremendously excited, but 
 I soon quieted them by announcing that no others 
 were to be molested, and most of them knew that 
 Brave Bear and The Only One were guilty of mur- 
 der. There was no interference by the assembled In- 
 dians, and the men were taken downstairs, The Only 
 One going first between a couple of soldiers, and 
 Brave Bear following. They passed out of the hall 
 and down the stairway, which was on the outside of 
 the south front of the building, and the foot of which 
 was only a few feet from the southeast corner. Neither 
 of the prisoners was bound, as it was not thought 
 that any attempt at escape would be made. As they 
 reached the corner of the building. The Only One 
 made up his mind to take a desperate chance. It was 
 only about twenty-five yards to the rear of the build- 
 ing. Once around the corner he could afford to take 
 a chance on being shot down, and there was the open 
 country — which he had occupied in defiance of ar- 
 rest for so long — before him. To refuse the chance 
 meant incarceration, and almost certain death. The 
 Only One did not stop long to think about the chances. 
 He took them. With one bound he was out from 
 between the files of soldiers. A few more bounds took 
 him around the corner of the building, and he was 
 off for the open country. The soldiers of his guard 
 were astonished for a moment, then took after the 
 fugitive, who had slipped out of his blanket and was 
 running free. In the meantime Brave Bear was closed 
 in on. The officer in charge. Lieutenant Slocum, 
 drew his pistol and stepped up beside the man. The 
 rest of the guard was ordered to the pursuit of 
 the runaway. Slocum was not taking any chances 
 [45 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 on Brave Bear, but he wanted to be in with the 
 chase. 
 
 "Here, Jack," he cried to J. E. Kennedy, agency 
 clerk, "you take my pistol and hold this fellow, will 
 you? while I go with my men." 
 
 "Not me," said Kennedy; "I haven't lost any 
 Indians." 
 
 And Slocum had to hold his own prisoner. He 
 landed him in the guardhouse. 
 
 The Only One was then far on the road to freedom. 
 He was giving an exhibition of sprinting that has not 
 been seen on that prairie since. Anticipating that the 
 soldiers would not hesitate to shoot at him, he ran, 
 bounding high and jumping sideways every jump. 
 Once off the agency grounds, he had a very good 
 chance of getting away. There were sloughs to the 
 west that would hide a pursued man, and beyond 
 there was open ground that would subsist an Indian, 
 especially if he had no moral scruples about other 
 people's property; and there was comparative safety 
 at the western agencies. The hostiles were still out in 
 the Northwest, and Sitting Bull was not the man to 
 ask a fugitive who came to him if he had blood on 
 his hands, or to hold it against him if he knew that 
 he had killed a white man or woman. He would be 
 comparatively safe if he could even reach the camp 
 of the Cut Heads at the west end of the Devils Lake 
 reservation, for there were horses to be had there. 
 And he was making a run for his life. 
 
 The soldiers were rather anxious to get the man and 
 
 needed no urging to open fire on him — and very bad 
 
 practice they made of it, though the mark presented 
 
 by The Only One was not so easy to hit as a target 
 
 [46] 
 
BRAVE BEAR AND THE ONLY ONE 
 
 might have been ; and they expended a great quantity 
 of ammunition uselessly until the sergeant, one of 
 those grizzled non-coms who were common enough 
 on the frontier at that time, and are very scarce now, 
 more 's the pity ! took a hand in the game. He dropped 
 on one knee, took careful aim, and fired. The Only 
 One dropped with a ball in his thigh. The soldiers 
 ran up toward him, thinking he was hors de combat. 
 In a moment The Only One made up his mind that 
 his time had come, and that he might better die fight- 
 ing than on the scaffold. He stood up, and the men 
 saw that he had his knife in his hand. With fright- 
 ful screams, part of agony from his wound and part 
 the prompting of his enraged spirits, he ran at the 
 men, his shattered thigh causing him to run lame 
 at every other step. He was intent on getting at the 
 soldiers and forcing them to kill him. The old ser- 
 geant saw what the man intended, and he concluded 
 that it was time to put him out of business, — that 
 winging The Only One would do no good. Down he 
 went on his knee again, and there was no wavering 
 in his aim. His bullet found the heart of The Only 
 One, and he dropped dead. 
 
 The Cut Heads were greatly excited still, and the 
 relatives of The Only One particularly so. One young 
 brave, a brother of Brave Bear, thinking that the en- 
 tire family might be apprehended on general prin- 
 ciples, made off to the northwest while The Only 
 One was being pursued. Some mounted soldiers from 
 the post, thinking he was wanted too, started after 
 him. The Indian made good headway, but was pretty 
 well exhausted, and might have been captured pre- 
 sently but that he ran into a slough. Burying himself 
 [47] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 in the mud and weeds, he eluded his pursuers until 
 it was found that he was not the man wanted, and 
 they were called off. But it was many a day before 
 he could be induced to come into the agency. 
 
 This occurred on Saturday evening, and the fol- 
 lowing Monday, being ration-day, all of the Indians 
 came in for their rations. With them came the wife 
 and the mother of The Only One. I have, as I said, 
 seen Indians give frightful expression to their mourn- 
 ing sentiments, but the grief shown by those two wo- 
 men was awful in its manifestations. The wife of 
 The Only One was a magnificently proportioned and 
 handsome woman. Her beauty was something to be 
 talked of. When I was called out by the wailing of 
 the women they presented a shocking sight. It was 
 customary for the widow of a recently deceased In- 
 dian to disfigure herself, to demonstrate that her grief 
 was boundless and that she had no regard for her 
 appearance now that the husband was dead. They 
 would nearly always cut off their hair without regard 
 to uniformity as to length, and also usually scarify 
 themselves. 
 
 The wife of The Only One did not stop at the or- 
 dinary manifestations of grief. She was a ghastly 
 sight when I found her with her mother-in-law, the 
 two crying out incoherent words of endearment and 
 grief, relating the many good qualities of the dead 
 man as a husband and son, for the taint of blood is 
 not to the detriment of an Indian man's standing in 
 his family, or was not in those days. The younger 
 woman had torn nearly all the clothing from her 
 body. She had cut off the hair from her entire head, 
 and much of it she had torn out by the roots. Her 
 [48] 
 
BRAVE BEAR AND THE ONLY ONE 
 
 breasts were hacked and gashed with a knife. She 
 had cut great gashes in the lower part of each leg, 
 from the knees to the ankles ; she was streaming with 
 blood and was an awful sight. The mother had gone 
 almost as far in the expression of her woe, and had 
 deliberately chopped off the little finger of her left 
 hand, which among the Sioux at that time was a 
 common expression of mourning for a relative killed. 
 I don't think that grief could be made to wear a more 
 horrid front than it did that day among the relatives 
 of the dead murderer. This awful practice of maim- 
 ing one's self as evidence of affection for the dead 
 is one of the things that the Sioux have given up in 
 a great measure under the restraining influences of 
 civilization and Christianity; though the grief of the 
 Indian is still clamorous, at least so far as the women 
 are concerned. I have, on more than one occasion, 
 found a family engaged in great lamentation, the 
 women throwing ashes on their heads and wailing 
 at the tops of their voices, and, upon inquiring, have 
 been told that the mourning was for somebody who 
 had been dead a year or two. Something had oc- 
 curred, as a meeting of relatives who had been parted 
 and who had not hitherto had opportunity to make 
 common cause in mourning. 
 
 But to return to Brave Bear : he was not permitted 
 to escape from the military guardhouse. This was 
 rather to my astonishment, for I had not much faith 
 in the capacity of the guardians of that noteworthy 
 military institution to hold an Indian prisoner. I 
 had taken chances on Brave Bear and The Only One 
 remaining on the reservation during the winter, ra- 
 ther than commit them sooner to the custody of the 
 [49] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 soldiers with the moral certainty of their escape be- 
 fore spring. My experiences in the past had not 
 inspired me with any great respect for the holding 
 capacity of the post guardhouse. But it held Brave 
 Bear fast enough until the civil authorities took 
 charge of him. He was taken first to Bismarck and 
 later to Fargo for trial, and the case against him was 
 complete enough. When he was arraigned for trial, 
 the two women who had survived the murderous at- 
 tack on the DeLorme family fully identified him as 
 one of the assailants. I was called as a witness, and 
 it was expected that a speedy conviction would be 
 had. But even in those days the Indian had come 
 to an appreciation of the quibbles that make loop- 
 holes in the white man's law. The case had not pro- 
 ceeded beyond the first forenoon when the counsel 
 appointed for the defense moved for the dismissal 
 of the indictment on the ground that the court had 
 no jurisdiction ; that the crime alleged to have been 
 committed was stated to have been committed in 
 Pembina County, where there was a duly organized 
 tribunal for the adjudication of offenses, criminal 
 and civil. The point was sustained by the court, the 
 indictment dismissed, and Brave Bear sent up to 
 Pembina for trial. He was put in the jail at Pembina, 
 and one morning he was missing. With him went 
 the horse of the jailer. Brave Bear declared after- 
 wards that his medicine was good and had liberated 
 him; that he had simply invoked the power of his 
 medicine and floated up through the roof of the jail. 
 As to the disappearance of the jailer's horse, why, 
 that might have been a part of the medicine. 
 
 With the speed with which the Indian can move 
 [50] 
 
BRAVE BEAR AND THE ONLY ONE 
 
 when he is put to it, Brave Bear made his way down 
 through the territory to the Pine Ridge reservation. 
 I believe he found things too hot for him there, or he 
 longed for the fleshpots of the Cut Heads, his peo- 
 ple, on the Standing Rock reservation. In any event 
 he left Pine Ridge agency with a stolen horse, and 
 started north. Somewhere above Fort Sully he met 
 and murdered a man named Johnson. He stripped 
 the victim of this second crime and put on the dead 
 man's clothing. In the pocket of the vest he found 
 $1700 in money. With the dead man's rifle in his 
 hand, he started across the country. Johnson was 
 a prominent Odd Fellow, and the members of that 
 order offered a big reward for the capture of the mur- 
 derer. The crime was charged to Brave Bear. The 
 latter eluded pursuit and made his way to the far 
 Northwest and over into Canada, where he found 
 asylum with Sitting Bull. 
 
 He remained with the old medicine man and ap- 
 pears to have been of some importance in the band — 
 now greatly decimated in numbers. In the summer 
 of 1881 Sitting Bull, to the dismay of Brave Bear, 
 came in and surrendered and was sent to Standing 
 Rock agency, and Brave Bear had no choice but to 
 go with him. That fall I took charge at Standing 
 Rock, and Brave Bear was on the reservation until 
 the day before my arrival. He knew me and was not 
 in the humor to take chances on what would happen 
 when I, located him. He had cached, or said he had, 
 a considerable portion of the money he had robbed 
 Johnson of, and he took a white man into his con- 
 fidence so far as the hidden money was concerned, 
 offering to divide the wealth if the white man would 
 [51 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 put him across the Missouri River. The deal was 
 made, but Brave Bear had lingered too long. Other 
 men on the reservation had identified him, and they 
 also knew of the reward that had been offered for his 
 capture. He was taken across the river by his white 
 friend and soon after held up by a party of four men 
 who were on the lookout for him, and Brave Bear was 
 made a captive for the last time. He was sent to 
 Yankton, then the capital of Dakota Territory, and 
 tried for the murder of Johnson. There was no doubt 
 of his guilt. He was condemned and hanged. 
 
 Going back to the insecurity of that prison at the 
 post, so far as providing for the restraint of an Indian 
 was concerned, I am reminded of the affair of One 
 Elk, who killed his father-in-law, his mother-in-law, 
 and his sister-in-law, in an access of zeal for the gov- 
 ernment, laying his relatives by marriage on the altar 
 of good government with a singleness of purpose and 
 disregard to his personal sentiments that remind one 
 of the patriot who was willing that all his wife's rela- 
 tives should enlist for the war. One Elk was incar- 
 cerated in the military guardhouse as a consequence 
 of his crimes, and one night walked out of that strong- 
 hold, in defiance of all military ordinance, and, com- 
 ing over to my quarters, informed me that he had no 
 possible objection to confinement, but that he would 
 not stay in the soldiers' jail : if I would provide him 
 quarters in the agency guardhouse, he would will- 
 ingly remain there. 
 
 It was in the spring of 1881 that One Elk made 
 sacrifice of his wife's family in carrying out what he 
 conceived to be the will of the government as repre- 
 sented by the agent. About that time I had great 
 [52] 
 
BRAVE BEAR AND THE ONLY ONE 
 
 difficulty in handling the nomadic Indians. When the 
 agency was established at Fort Totten, it was for the 
 purpose of giving a reservation to the wandering peo- 
 ple who were roaming the prairies of northern Da- 
 kota, of bringing them under the influence of the gov- 
 ernment and giving them a permanent habitation. 
 It was my business to gather them in and enroll them 
 as belonging to the agency, and to keep them there. 
 But they conceived the idea that the agency was a 
 ration station — at least a good many of them did. 
 They would drop in, stop for a time, then disappear, 
 only to appear at some other agency and go through 
 the same performance. They would start out from 
 Fort Peck or one of the southwestern reservations, 
 swing around to Devils Lake, find some of their rela- 
 tives there, conclude that was the only place to live, 
 and so declare themselves. When they had rested 
 and were through with their visiting, they would 
 pack up and disappear. 
 
 Something had to be done to curb their habits in 
 this direction. So it happened that in the spring of 
 that year I called a council, and told the people that 
 if they wanted to live on the reservation, to have 
 houses and farms like the whites, they must remain 
 where they were, and I would make some provision 
 for getting them seeds and other necessaries. But 
 they must on no account leave the reservation. This 
 argument was necessary, particularly in the case of 
 the Cut Heads. The Sisseton and Wahpeton were 
 willing enough to remain, though they visited a good 
 deal with their relatives on the Lake Traverse reser- 
 vation, a distance of about two hundred and fifty 
 miles. 
 
 [53] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 ^ The Cut Heads, being a sub-band of the Yank- 
 tonai, had relatives at Fort Peck, Standing Rock, and 
 Crow Creek, and in other parts of the Great Sioux 
 reservation, and it was very difficult to hold them at 
 an agency when they might roam almost without 
 limit through a country that was still rich in game, 
 and visit their people at great distances. Their band 
 was recruited at Devils Lake from parties that had 
 come in from other reservations to the west. Among 
 these wanderers was the family of Two Bulls, the 
 father-in-law of One Elk. The old man was inoffen- 
 sive but confirmed in his nomadic habits. He did not 
 propose to remain on the reservation, but intended 
 to betake himself and his household to the west — 
 he had come from Standing Rock the previous fall. 
 He was present at the council when I announced that 
 no more wandering about would be permitted, and 
 that the Cut Heads must content themselves on the 
 reservation. I indicated that any attempt to leave 
 without permission would result in the people being 
 brought back and punished in some sort. One Elk 
 gave enthusiastic assent to the proposition that he 
 was a Devils Lake Indian, and announced that he 
 was ready to spend the rest of his days there. 
 
 I don't know if there was a family council, but there 
 probably was. In any event old Two Bulls made up 
 his mind that it was time for him to make his flitting. 
 Unfortunately for him his son-in-law. One Elk, made 
 up his mind that it was his duty to see to it that the 
 old man did not get away. But the old fellow did. 
 He moved by degrees, edging his camp along toward 
 the west end of the reservation, and eventually making 
 off through the broken country to the west. He had 
 [54] 
 
BRAVE BEAR AND THE ONLY ONE 
 
 with him his entire family of four daughters, one a 
 widow, one the wife of One Elk, the others young 
 women, and two small sons. It appears that One Elk 
 joined him in the flitting, for a purpose. The latter 
 had a firm conviction that he was commissioned to 
 keep the family into which he had married up to the 
 standard in the matter of obedience to the agent. He 
 was a simple-minded fellow, and it may be that he 
 thought this removal in open defiance of orders was 
 a high crime and might be visited vicariously upon 
 himself. From time immemorial the Indian's sins 
 were atoned for by his whole family. Or it may be 
 that he thought to win favor with the authorities by 
 showing that he would hesitate at nothing to compel 
 obedience to the mandates of the agent. He, it ap- 
 peared, had a great desire to become an agency police- 
 man. And to show his capacity and zeal he took to 
 the trail with Two Bulls. 
 
 For about a hundred miles he traveled with his 
 father-in-law and the family ; and when the old man 
 and the outfit camped on the Mouse River, One Elk 
 came to the conclusion that the outfit was going to the 
 Fort Peck agency, Montana, and that it was his duty 
 to stop the moving. He evidently thought that the 
 safe thing to do would be to kill the old man, his wife, 
 and the eldest daughter of Two Bulls. With this latter 
 woman he was not on good terms. The three slept 
 in one tepee, and One Elk and wife with the other 
 members of the family occupied another. Early in 
 the morning he took an axe and went into the tepee 
 of Two Bulls. The eldest daughter, a widow, was 
 doomed to die first, for of her One Elk was afraid. If 
 he attacked the old man and she survived, there would 
 f 55 1 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 be a fight. The three people lay sleeping. With one 
 blow of the axe One Elk clove the skull of his sister- 
 in-law and she died in her sleep; then he struck his 
 father-in-law and there was no awakening in this 
 world for Two Bulls. Another blow killed the mother- 
 in-law; and One Elk came out, his bloody work fin- 
 ished, and ordered his wife and the surviving daugh- 
 ters of Two Bulls to cook breakfast. The women were 
 frightened, but possessing the stolidity of Indian 
 women, reasoned that what had been done could not 
 be mended. The evening before, Two Bulls had been 
 hunting and had killed some ducks. These were 
 cooked and eaten within a few feet of the tepee in 
 which lay the bodies of the hunter and his women- 
 kind. Without more ado One Elk told the women 
 and boys to pack up and follow him. He took the 
 trail to Devils Lake, leaving Two Bulls and the 
 women in the tepee. 
 
 The morning after the arrival of One Elk at Devils 
 Lake the captain of police came and told me that 
 One Elk had told of the murders. I thought the fel- 
 low had been boasting idly, as some Indians were 
 prone to brag of having done inconceivable things. 
 But the story was repeated, and I sent for One Elk. 
 He did not hesitate telling me the story in detail, and 
 said that he expected to be praised for his zeal. 
 
 "I made myself a policeman," he said. "You told 
 Two Bulls not to leave the reservation. He left in 
 spite of your policeman, and I thought I would do the 
 Great Father a good turn and show him that the 
 heart of One Elk was right. The old man would 
 not come back, and I killed him." 
 
 I believe the fellow was disappointed because I did 
 [56] 
 
 I 
 
BRAVE BEAR AND THE ONLY ONE 
 
 not at once show my appreciation of his zeal by put- 
 ting him on the police force. Still I did not credit the 
 awful story he told. He was so unmoved that I thought 
 he must be insane or lying. He was neither one nor 
 the other. I, however, sent Two Bulls' son. Brown 
 Elk, and nephew, Little Bull, out to where One Elk 
 said the camp stood, and there they found the bodies. 
 The tepee had blown down but the bodies were there, 
 bearing the wounds the slayer had described. One 
 Elk had made no attempt to leave the reservation, 
 and he was arrested when the story was found to be 
 true. 
 
 In those days there was no telegraphic communica- 
 tion between the agency and the outside world, and it 
 took two days to get a letter to the nearest telegraph 
 station. The civil authorities were too busy to respond 
 very promptly in the matter of taking charge of an 
 Indian prisoner, even though he was charged with a 
 triple murder. Consequently One Elk lay for some 
 time in the military guardhouse. The agency jail 
 was not very secure, but the military guardhouse was 
 secure enough if properly watched. I knew by ex- 
 perience that it was not guarded closely enough to 
 hold an Indian who wanted to get out, but One Elk 
 did not appear to want to get his liberty. In this sur- 
 mise I was wrong ; for one night, after I had retired, 
 I was awakened by a rapping at my door ; I inquired 
 who it was. 
 
 "One Elk," was the response. 
 
 I looked out and it was the murderer sure enough. 
 
 **I don't like the soldiers' guardhouse," he said; 
 "put me in your guardhouse and I will stay, but a 
 Sioux cannot remain a prisoner to the blue-coats." 
 [57] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 I detained him and turned him over to Captain 
 Mathey, Seventh Cavalry, the officer of the day. He 
 was shackled and confined again, but he made a file 
 of a case-knife, filed off his shackles, and crawled out 
 through a little window just after sundown, arousing 
 the garrison with the Indian whoop as he jumped to 
 the ground. He was pursued and fired upon fey the 
 guard, but by swift running and dodging about he 
 escaped the bullets that were sent after him. He got 
 away safely, and was not heard of for more than a 
 year. Then a report came down from Turtle Moun- 
 tain that he had been living with the fugitive Sioux 
 in Manitoba, Canada. One day he got into an alter- 
 cation with an Indian named Red Boy, and when the 
 affair was over One Elk lay dead. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 WHEN CUPID CAMPS WITH THE SIOUX 
 
 Romance and Magic enter into the Spirit of the Red Man's Wooing 
 when he goes to take a Wife — Some Tragedies of the Reservation — 
 Billy Squash and the Virgin Feast. 
 
 THE Indian in love is about as far removed from 
 the ordinary white man's conception of an In- 
 dian lover as he is from the wooer Longfellow 
 created in Hiawatha. He is very earnest, very ardent, 
 not too secretive, and superstitious to a degree that is 
 not to be conceived even by the young woman who 
 expects to see the face of her sweetheart in the dark- 
 ened mirror at Hallowe'en. And when the Indian 
 lover becomes jealous in earnest, a tragedy is likely 
 to be very near at hand. In all my experience of the 
 Sioux, I have heard of few crimes involving the spill- 
 ing of blood behind which there was not either super- 
 stition or a love-affair ; and very generally both were 
 at the bottom of the crime. And suicide for love — 
 an expedient to which it would hardly be expected 
 by those who are unacquainted with Indian charac- 
 ter that my friend the Indian would resort — is not 
 rare. 
 
 And let me here and now say that the stoicism of 
 which so much is heard is no part of the Indian char- 
 acter. What has been described as stoicism, the trait 
 that the Fenimore Coopers and other Indian roman- 
 cers have been so fond of exploiting, is simply shyness 
 [59] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 or secretiveness. The Indian, as I have found him, 
 and I have known the people under nearly all possible 
 circumstances, is extremely shy with strangers, and 
 this shyness takes the form of constitutional secretive- 
 ness in strenuous moments. The Indian child who 
 appears savagely reticent to a stranger is very likely 
 the most joyous romp with people he knows, be they 
 white or red. He is shy as a wild thing is shy. The 
 Indian man who suffers torture without making a 
 sign is not indifferent to pain, nor especially desirous 
 that he shall be regarded as indifferent. He is simply 
 indulging his exaggerated tendency to secretiveness. 
 An Indian in a crowd of whites will probably be wild 
 with excitement over the strange things he sees, but he 
 has too much regard for his own dignity to expose his 
 sentiments. Let him understand he is among friends, 
 or free from personal scrutiny, and he is as joyously 
 exuberant as though he had never possessed either 
 dignity or secretiveness. I think that the most hilari- 
 ous lot of men I ever saw was a crowd of Sioux, many 
 of whom had been on the war-path against the whites, 
 and all of whom regarded themselves as men of im- 
 portance among their people, — whom I took to see 
 a musical comedy in Washington and who were 
 treated to the sight of a comic opera. They forgot the 
 place, the people, and their strange surroundings, and 
 whooped for very joy. At home, among his friends, 
 the Indian takes his pleasures with quite an abandon 
 of mirth. His reserve, shyness, timidity, or whatever 
 it is, but certainly not stoicism, shows itself only when 
 he has a purpose to serve, and he throws his dignity 
 to the winds when his risibles are touched. I have 
 known, I may say intimately, the big men of the 
 [60] 
 
 I 
 
WHEN CUPID CAMPS WITH THE SIOUX 
 
 Sioux nation, and I knew very few who did not display 
 real feeling for causes that would not touch the white 
 man, — which brings me back to a case in point. 
 
 Chief Gall, whom I regarded as one of the biggest 
 men of his nation, a warrior and councilor of high 
 standing, and one to be reckoned with as the peer of 
 Red Cloud and Spotted Tail among the great men 
 of the Teton Sioux, lived all his days after he left the 
 war-path on the Standing Rock reservation, and was 
 my friend. I consulted with him on matters affecting 
 the welfare of his people, and he came to me frankly 
 with personal affairs that were sometimes staggering 
 in their intimacy. 
 
 After he had passed his prime Gall fell in love. 
 He was at that time the finest-looking Indian I had 
 ever seen, and but a very few years previous, he need 
 have asked no man's advice as to what he should do 
 if he wanted a woman for a wife ; and in those days 
 it would have made no particular difference if he had 
 happened to be encumbered with one or more wives 
 at the time. One morning in the year 1885, — Gall 
 had ceased to be a hostile and buried the hatchet 
 finally in 1881, — he came to the office at the agency 
 and asked for a private interview. He was a fine, big 
 man, showing in his attitude the pride he had in his 
 chieftaincy and his prowess as a warrior. The finest 
 typical picture of an Indian extant is a photograph 
 of Gall taken about this time. He was very mysterious 
 in his actions on this particular morning, which was 
 the more surprising, in that he was habitually open 
 and even impressive in his carelessness of surround- 
 ings. He looked about to see that we were alone and 
 then said : — 
 
 [61] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 "Father, I have come to have a talk." (The Sioux 
 invariably address their agent as father.) 
 
 I was ready to hear him, and told him so. He con- 
 tinued : — 
 
 " When you came here [some four years previously] 
 we agreed, you and I, that I should come and talk 
 straight when I wanted advice and that we were to 
 be friends." 
 
 "How," said I; "How" meaning good, right, well- 
 done, or anything you like in the way of approbation, 
 in addition to its usual use as a term of greeting and 
 farewell. 
 
 And "How," rejoined the chief, then he continued : 
 "I have been your friend; you are my friend. I told 
 you that I would give up the customs of my people 
 and live as the white men do, as nearly as I could. 
 Have I done that .^" 
 
 I assured him that I was perfectly content, and that 
 he had been all I could ask. And he went on : — 
 
 "Father, I have changed my habits; I follow the 
 footsteps of the white man, for I know he is wiser than 
 I am and that the Indian way is no longer the way to 
 go. But, my friend, I cannot change my heart. We 
 may catch a bird but we cannot make it change its 
 tune. My heart is good, but it is sad, for I am in love." 
 
 Gall blushed. Men who know the Indian intimately 
 will understand that this is literally true, — that this 
 big warrior, who had been ruthless in his warfare and 
 who had lived for forty years and more in the open, 
 whose red skin was browned by the sun, who had 
 painted his face every winter to keep the skin from 
 chapping and painted it again in the summer to keep 
 it from burning, blushed like a white-skinned girl. 
 [62] 
 
WHEN CUPID CAMPS WITH THE SIOUX 
 
 But he looked me straight in the eye. There was 
 reason for his blushing, in the shape of an elderly 
 dame who sat at home waiting for her lord to return 
 from the agency, and Gall knew that I was thinking 
 of her. 
 
 "I know it is not right," continued the chief, "for 
 I have said I will be as the white man, and what Pizi 
 [Gall] says, he will do. But I have thought much about 
 this. I have a wife. If I had not given my word to 
 you, I might take another. The woman I love lives 
 in the lodge of another, but I know she loves me and 
 would come to me. You are my friend and I have 
 given you my word. Will you give me back my word ? 
 My heart is very sad." 
 
 I knew the man and his kind so well that I did 
 not see the humor of the situation and was never so 
 little inclined to laugh in my life. I know now that 
 if I had laughed the history of the Sioux on the Stand- 
 ing Rock reservation might have been written very 
 differently, for Gall was as proud and sensitive as he 
 was ingenuous in this confession. I made him a 
 speech, forgetting the humor of the thing, and talked 
 as I knew the man who led the Indian soldiers at 
 the battle of the Little Big Horn would expect to be 
 talked to. I told him that one of the important things 
 in the turning of the Indian into a white man was 
 the taking of a single wife; how the white man had 
 become great by making marriage a solemn thing 
 to which only two people could become parties. I 
 showed him how necessary it was that the big men 
 of his tribe should accept this custom of the white 
 man in order that the others might follow their ex- 
 ample ; how it was needful that men who expected to 
 [63] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 accomplish great things must make sacrifices, and 
 how these sacrifices would be appreciated by the 
 Great Father. There was no use appealing to his 
 religious sensibilities, for Gall held to the Indian 
 code and there was nothing in that to prevent poly- 
 gamy. And I held him firmly to his promise that he 
 would continue to be the best man on the reservation. 
 I could see no way, I told him, whereby I could do 
 anything for him. 
 
 Gall made me a speech. He told me that he knew 
 it was in the power of the agent to divorce people. 
 I pointed out to him that this was only done where 
 a man had more than one wife, and wanted to put all 
 but one away and make other provision for them. 
 He said his wife was old and he wanted but one — 
 the one he did n't have. I had to refuse to interfere, 
 flatly but diplomatically, and made him understand 
 that I wanted him for a friend but he must abide by 
 the white man's rule. 
 
 He thought for a moment, then said : — 
 
 " I have promised to go the white man's way and 
 I stand by my word, but I might not have promised 
 if I thought my heart would sing again at the coming 
 of a woman. I will pay the price of being as white 
 men are." 
 
 The big fellow shook hands and went out. I heard 
 no more of Gall's love-affair. 
 
 Polygamy amongst the Indians never had any sort 
 of religious sanction. It was tolerated on the ground 
 that man should be regarded as the master of his own 
 household, and that it could make no difference to 
 the community how many wives he had. It made 
 some difference to the individual, however, and most 
 [64] 
 
WHEN CUPID CAMPS WITH THE SIOUX 
 
 marriao;es were made throuojh selection. Custom 
 made the Sioux a polygamist. The Sioux in his wild 
 state had an option on the whole family in case there 
 was no brother or male cousin and more than one 
 maiden in the household containing the object of his 
 affections, the sisters becoming subject to his disposal ; 
 under tribal law, if he married the eldest one he was 
 privileged to wed them all or dispose of them in mar- 
 riage as they reached marriageable age. But notwith- 
 standing the inferior position of the woman in the 
 tribe, it was generally understood that the wife by 
 choice — who very nearly always got the man of her 
 choice — managed to take care of her own, and the 
 sisters generally made shift to marry other men with- 
 out disturbing the household. The older men, who 
 took additional wives as they increased in years and 
 wealth, clung to the institution and their polygamous 
 households, and it was the demoralizing effect they 
 exercised in the community that gave the administra- 
 tion most trouble in the civilizing processes. 
 
 When the hostiles came in and were located at 
 Standing Rock, polygamous families were numerous. 
 Many of the chiefs and other men of importance had 
 plural wives. Sitting Bull had two wives at the end, 
 though the roll of his list of wives would undoubtedly 
 have been largely increased had any one ever gone to 
 the trouble of looking them up. He was not a nice 
 character. Sitting Bull ; he took what looked good to 
 him, whether it was a woman or property of other 
 sort, and he was not in any sense typical of his people. 
 I never heard that he had a love-affair, and the meas- 
 ure of the man was shown when Bishop Marty tried 
 to induce him to put away one of his wives. He went 
 
 [65] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 to see the Bishop, who was visiting the missions. The 
 Bishop pointed out to him the evil of his ways, and 
 the bad influence he exerted among the people, finally 
 asking him if he would not put away one of his wives. 
 Sitting Bull was crafty. 
 
 "You think that I should put away one wife and 
 that would be good ?" he asked. 
 
 " It would, and the woman would be taken care of. 
 You should keep only your first wife." 
 
 " But I cannot put one away ; I like them both and 
 would not like to treat them differently." 
 
 The Bishop admitted that it might be hard, but one 
 should be put away, the second wife. 
 
 " But I could put them both away without injuring 
 either one," said Sitting Bull. 
 
 "You could do that," was the reply of the good 
 man, thinking he was making some headway. 
 
 "The black gown is my friend," rejoined Sitting 
 Bull, " and I will do this for him ; I will put away both 
 my wives, and the black gown will get me a white wife." 
 
 The Bishop gave him up as incorrigible, and the old 
 chief retained both his wives to the end. 
 
 Polygamy is giving way to missionary teachings 
 and the efforts of the Indian Department to discour- 
 age it. I suppose that Standing Rock is as good an 
 example of the reservations still held by the Indians 
 in common as there is in the country. In 1881 there 
 were upwards of two hundred polygamous families 
 on that reservation, and it now contains only three. 
 The heads of the households are all old men, and with 
 their passing the institution will not have to be reck- 
 oned with. Mad Bear has two wives. Red Fish has 
 two, and His Thunder Shield the same number. 
 [ 66 ] 
 
WHEN CUPID CAMPS WITH THE SIOUX 
 
 In the attempt to do away with polygamy at Stand- 
 ing Rock more than one tragedy was enacted, and I am 
 reminded now of the affair of Matozee (Yellow Bear), 
 the son of Running Walk, the latter being a man of 
 some importance at the time and a friend of mine. 
 
 In early times, when the Sioux were still largely 
 pagan and the agency represented all the authority 
 of any sort that they could see outside of their tribal 
 rules, the agent was the arbiter of their destinies in 
 many directions. He licensed them to marry and 
 married them, in preference to permitting them to 
 marry without any sort of ceremony that might be 
 regarded as formal and binding. So numerous were 
 these marriages performed by me, in the effort to 
 bring the hostiles to a sense of the importance of gov- 
 ernment, that a facetious army officer at Fort Yates, 
 in speaking with some eastern tourists of the religious 
 denominations on the reservation, said that there 
 were Catholics, Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and 
 McLaughlinites. Justice was necessarily administered 
 by the Agent, and sharp correction was sometimes 
 given those who could not be restrained by the tribal 
 rules. The Indian justiciary system, with its invalu- 
 able police adjunct, was just then coming into existence. 
 
 It was in my capacity as administrator of justice 
 that there was brought before me one day in the 
 spring of 1882 the Indian Matozee. He was charged 
 with having carried off against her will a young 
 woman whom he had long pursued. The man was 
 already married. The woman had escaped from him, 
 but he had followed her and taken her again to his 
 tepee. There was no doubt about the fellow's guilt, 
 and he could not be induced to promise to behave 
 [67] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 himself. I put him in the guardhouse and kept him 
 there. I have forgotten how long he was confined, 
 but perhaps for ten or fifteen days. He remained sul- 
 len throughout his imprisonment, and made no pro- 
 mise when he was sent away and told to leave the 
 woman alone or he would be returned to prison. To 
 some of the people he talked and said he loved the 
 woman and could not live without her. He was a 
 savage, pure and simple, regarding his own right. 
 He was quite capable of taking the woman, and he 
 declined to admit the right of anybody to interfere 
 except in a fight, and he was quite willing for that. 
 His passion had made him mad. He went again to 
 the place where the woman lived, and tried to take 
 her. He was brought to the agency and given another 
 fifteen-day sentence. When he was turned loose, his 
 spirit was broken but he was not cured. He sat in his 
 tepee and brooded for a day. One morning he rode 
 to the Agent's residence, occupied by myself and 
 family. It was very early, and Mrs. McLaughlin was 
 alone outside. The man had a gun and his manner 
 was threatening enough. My wife, speaking the 
 Sioux language fluently, had always had great influ- 
 ence with the people, and she talked with Yellow 
 Bear and told him the error of his way and the bad 
 effect it must have on himself. She kept him in such 
 a position that he had no chance to use his rifle while 
 she was not looking. Somebody else came out of the 
 house, and he dashed away, muttering and gesticu- 
 lating. The sound of a gunshot coming from his tepee 
 shortly after attracted the attention of the people ; he 
 had shot himself mortally and died within a few hours. 
 But the Sioux lover is much more inclined to the 
 [68] 
 
WHEN CUPID CAMPS WITH THE SIOUX 
 
 killing of somebody else than to suicide. The suicide 
 solution of a love-problem has been applied but in- 
 frequently, for the Indian is restrained from taking 
 his own life by his superstitions. He fears to face the 
 shades with a self-inflicted death wound. I have known 
 of many Indian women killing themselves for love, 
 and of eight cases of self-destruction among men. 
 The women hang or drown themselves, the men using 
 deadly weapons. 
 
 There was the case of Horned Dog ; he became in- 
 fatuated with a grass widow, young and handsome; 
 she had been married at Devils Lake, but had left 
 her husband and was free. With her uncle. Cow 
 Head, she had been on a visit to relatives on the 
 Standing Rock reservation all winter. Horned Dog, 
 who was already married, saw her frequently at 
 dances and feasts during the winter, and fell madly 
 in love with her. She was not at all averse to mar- 
 riage, but she had no idea of becoming a plural wife, 
 and she showed Horned Dog the door of her uncle's 
 tepee. The lover would not be dismissed. He fol- 
 lowed her everywhere, and Cow Head proceeded to 
 take her off the reservation in the early spring. He 
 took his own family and the young woman and 
 crossed the Missouri on his return trip to Devils Lake. 
 Their first camp was made a mile or so north of the 
 crossing, near the agency. That night Horned Dog 
 arrived at the camp and refused to leave. He could 
 not be forced out, under the laws of Indian hospital- 
 ity. The next morning early he shot twice at the 
 woman, one bullet striking her in the thigh and an- 
 other in the left forearm. Thinking he had killed the 
 widow, Horned Dog turned his gun on himself, and 
 [69] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 fell lifeless beside her. She was brought to the agency 
 and her arm amputated — which did not prevent her 
 from getting another husband during the summer. 
 
 Romancers have written much of the poetry of the 
 Indian lover, and there is, no doubt, much of poeti- 
 cal feeling in the sentiments expressed by the young 
 Indian who would a- wooing go, — or was in the 
 days when the Indian nature had freeness of expres- 
 sion ; but my experience and knowledge of the Indian 
 leads me to believe that he is inclined to be fierce 
 rather than sentimental in his outward manifesta- 
 tions of the entertainment of the gentle passion. 
 Some of the great chiefs I have known had really 
 fine characters marred by the fierceness of their pas- 
 sions. There, for instance, was Spotted Tail, who 
 made his entrance into the public life of his people 
 by means of a bloody encounter with a rival for the 
 possession of a girl of their tribe, and who was killed 
 on account of a similar affair. 
 
 Spotted Tail was a Brule Sioux, and a great leader 
 in spite of the fact that he was rather inclined to treat 
 diplomatically with the whites than to take the war- 
 path. He never led his band into battle after the 
 surrender of Ash Hollow in the sixties, and he pro- 
 moted the treaty for the opening of the Bozeman 
 route into Montana, even after his people had prac- 
 tically all deserted him to follow the fortunes of Red 
 Cloud. That Red Cloud was the bigger man and the 
 greater chief there is no doubt, for he came to be re- 
 garded with superstitious awe by his people, who 
 thought he must be possessed of some powerful 
 medicine, so successful was he on the war-path. 
 [70] 
 
WHEN CUPID CAMPS WITH THE SIOUX 
 
 Spotted Tail was not an hereditary chief, but came 
 into leadership as a young man. He had been out with 
 his people, but had not particularly distinguished him- 
 self up to the age of twenty. He was a fine-looking 
 young fellow, and he remained a fine-looking man 
 all his life. It was while his people were living in the 
 Platte River country, a considerable distance south- 
 west of the place of his death on the Rosebud reser- 
 vation, that he fell in love with Appearing Day, who 
 is described by the old people of her band as possess- 
 ing all the beauty and virtues that a woman of the 
 Sioux can possess. Divinely tall, if not divinely fair, 
 she was sought by many suitors, but had repulsed 
 them all and remained in the tepee of her father, 
 a chief of standing, long beyond the age at which a 
 maiden of the Sioux generally marries. She had 
 grown up beside Spotted Tail ; it was known that they 
 were in love, and the youth took advantage of every 
 opportunity to seek the favor of her father. This 
 favor he did not possess, the father having so loved 
 his daughter that he refused to give her in marriage 
 to many wealthy and desirable suitors. 
 
 Among the foremost of these suitors, and the one 
 most persistent in his suit, was Running Bear, a chief 
 who had won his title to consideration on the battle- 
 field and in the council-lodge. He had two wives 
 already, but that was no handicap in his wooing, for 
 he was rich in horses, was in the prime of life, and was 
 apparently destined to sit among the great ones of his 
 people. And Spotted Tail knew that Running Bear 
 was favored by the father of Appearing Day, and he 
 feared that the girl might be given to the elder man, 
 though she had sworn to her lover that she would die 
 [71] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 or elope with him sooner than follow Running Bear 
 to his lodge. The elder man knew by instinct that 
 Spotted Tail alone stood between him and the realiz- 
 ation of his hopes, and he hated the young man, who, 
 having but just become a soldier, dared to aspire to 
 the hand of the woman loved by a chief. 
 
 Affairs had approached a crisis when, one day in 
 the spring, the rivals met outside the village on the 
 North Platte. Running Bear told the young man that 
 he must give over his pretensions, that unless he 
 would leave the girl alone and bind himself to do so 
 by a promise on the spot, he might prepare to die. 
 History has not preserved the reply of Sintegleska 
 (Spotted Tail), but it is probable that he made a 
 speech, for he was always the diplomat. It is known 
 that almost instantly the two had drawn their knives 
 and were locked in each other's arms in a death- 
 struggle. When the people reached the scene of the 
 battle they were clasped together, but the knife of 
 Spotted Tail was buried in the heart of his rival and 
 the young man himself hacked very nearly to death. 
 Appearing Day, putting aside her maiden reserve, 
 bound up the wounds of her lover and nursed him 
 back to life. To win such a fight, and with such an 
 opponent, was quite enough to establish Spotted Tail 
 high in the esteem of his people, and there was no 
 father in the Sioux nation who would then have re- 
 fused him the hand of his daughter. The lovers were 
 married, and during Appearing Day's life they were 
 devotedly attached to each other, so that the story 
 of this happily mated couple is still remembered by 
 the older people of the band. 
 
 It may have been to show that after her death he 
 [72] 
 
SPOTTED TAIL 
 
WHEN CUPID CAMPS WITH THE SIOUX 
 
 had no heart to give any woman, or because he had 
 broadened in his affections, but the fact remains that 
 one of the first things Spotted Tail did when he was 
 elected to the chieftainship of his band was to marry 
 two women, neither of whom bore any resemblance 
 to the beautiful Appearing Day, being neither well- 
 favored nor remarkable for their attributes of mind ; 
 but he lived with them through a long and, from the 
 Indian point of view, more or less successful career. 
 He had avoided the blunders of Red Cloud, and had 
 treated with the whites or sat down at the agency 
 while the people went on the war-path. But he was 
 a strong man and a natural leader, which brought to 
 him such a large following that the Spotted Tail 
 agency — now known as the Rosebud — became 
 quite celebrated. He was living there and drawing 
 to what might have been the peaceful close of a life 
 that had brought him some honors and the consider- 
 ation of the government, when he fell in love again. 
 This time, with an old man's passion, he fixed his 
 favor on a married woman, the wife of a cripple 
 named Medicine Bear. The woman appears to have 
 been passive in the matter, though not averse to 
 changing her place in the lodge of her husband for 
 that of the favorite wife of a great chief. Whether by 
 prearrangement or not, Spotted Tail seized the woman 
 and bore her off. He made some sort of an attempt 
 to mollify the husband by offering him compensation 
 for the wife he had lost, and the matter might have 
 been arranged, but that one Crow Dog, a friend of 
 the abused husband, made it a blood feud. He met 
 Spotted Tail riding in a wagon, on August 5, 1881, 
 and shot the chief dead. 
 
 [73] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 The event which put a period to the romantic ad- 
 ventures of Spotted Tail was fraught with important 
 consequences, for it resulted in establishing the status 
 of the Indian before the law. Crow Dog went into 
 hiding until his friends had made compensation to 
 the family of Spotted Tail for his murder. The ad- 
 justment was made according to tribal custom, and 
 the affair was settled so far as the Indians were con- 
 cerned ; but Spotted Tail was a man of too much im- 
 portance for the authorities to permit his assassin to 
 go unpunished. Crow Dog was arrested and brought 
 to trial, was convicted, and the case appealed. The 
 contention was made on behalf of Crow Dog that, he 
 being an Indian and not a citizen of the United States, 
 the court had no jurisdiction ; that having been dealt 
 with according to the custom of his tribe for the 
 offense, he was not amenable to prosecution by fed- 
 eral or other courts. The United States Supreme 
 Court, to which the case was carried, took this view 
 of the case and discharged the accused man. The 
 decision resulted in the enactment of legislation which 
 brought all Indians under the laws of the states or 
 territories in which they reside, making them amen- 
 able under the laws thereof for felonious crimes not 
 punishable by the federal code. 
 
 These incidents recalled do not argue much for 
 the moral restraint of the Indian, and it is apparent 
 that time has had but little chastening injfluence on 
 him as regards his views of connubial life ; but I must 
 add, in justification of the people, that they hold 
 nothing more sacred than the purity of a maiden. 
 Severe punishment and ostracism are meted out to 
 [74] 
 
WHEN CUPID CAMPS WITH THE SIOUX 
 
 the man who disparages a woman, and I remember 
 witnessing on more than one occasion a "virgin 
 feast" proving the chastity of a maiden. 
 
 While I was agent at Devils Lake agency such a 
 feast was held, and the discomfiture of the traducer 
 was complete. 
 
 One Wamnuha (Billy Squash), a fine-looking 
 young Indian who looked upon himself as a sort of 
 lady-killer, had traduced the character of Lucy Pro- 
 vincial ; the girl was young, handsome, popular, and 
 well-behaved, but her good conduct had not saved 
 her from Billy's tongue. She had rejected the fellow 
 and he was piqued. The stories he told about her 
 came to her ears, and she took prompt measures to 
 justify herself, according to the custom of her people. 
 She made a virgin feast. 
 
 All the maidens of her acquaintance were invited, 
 and the affair was set for ration day and held on the 
 most prominent spot of the agency grounds, in front 
 of the commissary building. Word was sent all over 
 the reservation and there was a great gathering of 
 the people. The girls engaged in the feast numbered 
 eight or ten, and they were seated in a circle about 
 a small oblong stone, the sacred stone used in all 
 medicine feasts and called literally "The Grand- 
 father." Beside this sacred stone Lucy stuck a knife 
 into the ground. A dish of food was passed to each 
 of the girls by the giver of the feast, and the people, 
 some hundreds of them, stood about in a larger circle, 
 Billy well to the front, and receiving a great deal of 
 attention in the form of jibing from the other young 
 men. He kept his blanket well about his ears, but 
 gave no evidence of any intention of weakening. 
 [75] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 The girls having finished eating, Lucy stood up 
 and announced that she had been talked about, that 
 the talk was lies, and that if any man within the sound 
 of her voice could say anything detrimental to her, 
 he should then and there announce it publicly, and 
 should his accusation be substantiated, she would 
 either go with him (as was the custom in such in- 
 stances) or be as an outcast among her people. 
 
 Billy laughed uneasily, and his friends tried to push 
 him into the circle. Lucy repeated her defiance and 
 the other girls offered a similar challenge. Billy, 
 coerced by his fellows, finally mustered enough cour- 
 age to step forward and reach out his hand to Lucy. 
 The girl plucked the knife out of the ground, seized 
 Billy by the blanket, and tried to drag him into the 
 circle of maidens. The fellow resisted, and she flour- 
 ished the knife and insisted that he should tell his 
 story, her eyes flashing and her tongue going at a rate 
 that might have discomfited a bolder man than Billy 
 Squash. The fellow resisted as the girl dragged him 
 forward to make his accusation, and at last slipped 
 out of his blanket, leaving it in the hands of the en- 
 raged girl, and raced across the prairie. Lucy ran 
 after him, but he got away. The girl was vindicated 
 and Billy Squash was thereafter treated with con- 
 tempt by the people who had witnessed the cere- 
 mony. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 HOW CROW KING STOPPED THE MEDICINE MEN 
 
 How the Sioux Chief rebuked the Hunkpapa Fakirs and contributed 
 to the Downfall of a Great Indian Institution. 
 
 A GRAY shadow lay on the face of Crow King, 
 and in the silence of the night, when no sound 
 broke the stillness but the dim echoing howl 
 of the coyote far up the valley of the Yellowstone, 
 the chief lay in his tepee and saw the beckoning fingers 
 of the ghosts inviting him to join his fathers in the 
 spirit land. And Crow King, having some doubts 
 about his standing among the shades and valuing 
 properly his earthly place as a chief of the Hunkpapas 
 and a man of much weight in the councils of the Sioux, 
 was not inclined to heed the beckoning fingers and the 
 invitation of the shadowy faces he turned away from. 
 " Crow King is not a woman, to die of an ache in his 
 lodge," said the chief to his wife, who tended him with 
 the tenderness of a loving woman, for all her face 
 was swarthy between the two braids of her raven hair 
 and her fingers hard from the toil of the camp. 
 
 For was it not the duty of a Sioux woman to toil, 
 even though her husband had many horses and was 
 a warrior with whom few of his people could measure 
 head or body ? And Red Bird had loved Crow King 
 with the affection of a strong nature for a strong man 
 ever since that day when Crow King took from her 
 hand the rich food that was to recover him from the 
 [77] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 fearful ordeal of his first sun-dance — and that was 
 years before, in the land of the Tetons by the banks 
 of the Big Muddy. 
 
 In those far days, when the Teton Sioux lived in 
 Indian ease close by the feeding-ground of his uncle, 
 Pte, the buffalo; while the white man was still com- 
 pelled to lust in fear and longing for possession of 
 the hills in which were hidden the yellow stones his 
 heart coveted; when Sitting Bull and Gall, Crow 
 King and Black Moon, and others who wrote their 
 names in red on the lands of the Dakotas in later days, 
 were but young men and well regarded, but had not 
 yet attained to the places of dignity among their 
 people, — in those days Crow King saw Red Bird 
 and wanted her for his wife, to live by his side, to 
 follow him when the people took the trail to hunt 
 the game in the valleys between the Missouri and the 
 great hills to the west, or to perpetrate on the bodies 
 of their foes, the Crows, those disdainful scars that 
 would disgrace the warrior among the ghosts. And 
 Red Bird was quite willing to leave the lodge of her 
 father and follow Crow King, who, even as a young 
 man, gave promise of being rich in those attributes 
 which once made all that there was for manhood 
 in the sight of a Sioux maiden. But she would not 
 share the tepee of Crow King with any other woman, 
 and she would take the young man when she knew 
 that she had the only place in his heart. Thus it 
 came that, under the broiling sun of a midsummer 
 day. Crow King and other young men offered them- 
 selves in sacrifice at a great sun-dance, which the 
 medicine men had ordered before the band started 
 on a journey to the west, and which might be full of 
 [78] 
 
CROW KING STOPS THE MEDICINE MEN 
 
 perils. They would placate "Onk-te-gi," the spirit 
 which has its abiding-place in the body of the ground 
 animal, and propitiate all the evil spirits of the earth ; 
 and they would offer prayers and sacrifice to the 
 Great Spirit, to the end that their undertaking might 
 not be made difficult by the machinations of the evil 
 ones and that they might be blessed in their hunting 
 and find their enemies, the Crows, rich in ponies, 
 by the benign influence of the Great Spirit. 
 
 With prayers and offerings the medicine men cut 
 gashes in the breasts and shoulders of Crow King, 
 and they picked up with cruel knives the hard muscles 
 that lay under the red skin, and beneath these muscles 
 they thrust strong little skewer-sticks ; and to the ends 
 of these sticks they fastened the split end of a lariat, 
 and the other end they fastened to poles and drew 
 tight, so that Crow King, by standing on his toes, 
 might escape being suspended from his shoulders 
 and his breasts. And there Crow King danced and 
 whistled, that the people who sat in the great circle 
 about the medicine lodge and watched the dancers 
 might know that his courage was great and that he 
 disregarded the torture. While the sun made a day's 
 journey Crow King and the other young men danced 
 and bore the pangs of suffering, which was so great 
 that their muscles stood out rigid like the sinews of 
 the buffalo and their throats were parched so that they 
 could not utter a sound, for it was not permitted that 
 they might drink during the dance. 
 
 So for a day Crow King endured, and his fortitude 
 
 and disdain of suffering made the old men remark 
 
 that there was a man, and the maidens admired in 
 
 secret, and one of them wept and hoped that the 
 
 [79] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 dance might soon be over. And it ended when the 
 muscles to which the lariats were fastened, before 
 and behind, were broken and torn by the motions of 
 the dancer, and gave way, and the dancer fell out 
 of the circle, his courage attested and the spirits 
 propitiated. Then the medicine men rubbed into the 
 gaping wounds on Crow King's breast and back a 
 handful of earth, and he went to the feast, accepting 
 from the hands of Red Bird the water and food he so 
 craved. And they two were plighted and wed. Crow 
 King taking of his choicest horses and leaving them 
 at the doorway of the lodge of Red Bird's father, 
 and taking away his bride, clad in the beautifully 
 beaded bridal robe which had been made by her 
 grandmother. With a brave heart and sound head. 
 Crow King took a wife wise and beautiful, and the 
 people said they would prosper as man and wife. 
 
 Now for five winters and as many summers had 
 Crow King and Red Bird lived as man and wife, and 
 although no child had come to their tepee, they were 
 still bound by their affection and Red Bird was envied 
 of the women whose husbands regarded them lightly, 
 even as Crow King was envied of the men whom he 
 governed as a chief, by reason of his skill in warfare 
 and in the chase. Therefore it was an evil day for 
 Red Bird when Crow King told her that he was called 
 by the ghosts, and she wept in the darkened lodge. 
 For she could save Crow King only by having a dis- 
 grace put upon her that would make the other women 
 of her people to point the finger of scorn at her. Crow 
 King, in after days, when he had come to be the friend 
 of the white man, told me of this thing and of the 
 great grief it brought upon him. 
 [80] 
 
CROW KING STOPS THE MEDICINE MEN 
 
 Crow King and his people had been fighting with 
 their old enemies the Crows. Far into the Crow 
 country, out beyond the Milk River and near to the 
 country of the Red Jackets, had the Sioux carried the 
 war, and they were rich in plunder and horses, for 
 the Crows had taken the horses of the Piegans and 
 had these and their own when the warriors of the 
 Tetons descended on them. And there was bitter 
 fighting, for the Crows were worthy foes and did not 
 leave their ponies and their women an easy prey to 
 their hereditary enemies. One day there had been 
 hard fighting between the people of Crow King's 
 band and the Crows, and when it was over, and each 
 party had withdrawn, there were many dead and 
 many wounded, and the Hunkpapas — who did not 
 retreat — saw their enemies withdraw, then broke 
 their camp and started for the country to the south, 
 where they might refresh their horses and give heed 
 to their wounds. 
 
 And the most grievously wounded of those who had 
 not been sent to the land of ghosts was Crow King. 
 A Crow arrow had passed through his body, and he 
 felt the blood in his lungs. He was marked for death, 
 and, according to the custom of his people, he refused 
 to be a burden to those who would be the better for 
 going rapidly out of the enemy's country, and he 
 directed that he be left to die where none might see 
 him, on the prairie, and that Red Bird, who had re- 
 mained behind in the encampment when the war 
 party went forth, should be told that he died like a 
 man. So they left him in a deep ravine where there 
 was water and shelter, and with him they picketed 
 his horse, that he might not be dismounted in the land 
 [81] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 of the shades. They also left with him food and to- 
 bacco — not for his physical comfort, for he was past 
 the need of that, but for the comfort of his ghost after 
 the earthly end. And he lay alone in the ravine where 
 no enemy might see him, and drew his blanket over 
 his head and waited for death. 
 
 His people were not heartless in this, but it was 
 part of their ceremonial so to dispose of the dead or 
 dying, that they might not be an encumbrance on the 
 living. When Reno left Custer, to surprise the Sioux 
 camp on the Little Big Horn, in the early morning 
 of June 25, 1876, his line of march took him past a 
 very handsomely decorated and valuable tepee which 
 contained nothing but the corpse of an Indian. The 
 Sioux who were in that fight on the Little Big Horn 
 told me years afterward that the corpse was that of a 
 man killed seven days previous in a skirmish with the 
 Crows and Shoshones, and, fearing that they would 
 have a long march and be unable to give the body 
 proper mortuary honors, they left it in their best tepee 
 on the prairie. The dead Indian in the tepee was the 
 brother of Chief Circling Bear. 
 
 Thus it was that Crow King sat down alone to 
 await the coming of the death that he did not fear, 
 but his thoughts were of Red Bird and he sorrowed 
 that he might not see her again. And in the fevered 
 nights he had visions and the ghosts were close to him. 
 
 "I know not how many nights I lay there," said 
 Crow King; "but always there came a ghost, fore- 
 most among all, who told me that I might yet live 
 among my people if I would but vow that I would 
 forget my pride and my place as a warrior, and for 
 one dav be as a dog and go on all fours about the 
 [82 ] 
 
CROW KING STOPS THE MEDICINE MEN 
 
 camp of my people and take with me Red Bird. For 
 many nights I would not make the vow, and each day 
 I dragged myself to the water and drank and did not 
 die. There came a night when the ghosts were thick 
 and my heart was weak and sad, and I made the 
 promise and vowed that Red Bird and myself would 
 be as dogs among them, prowling through the camp 
 during one sun. Then the ghosts gave me strength, 
 and I mounted my horse and traveled for many days 
 on the broad trail of my people before I reached our 
 village. 
 
 " They ran from me when I rode, starved and near 
 dying, into the village, for they thought it was the 
 ghost of Crow King; but Red Bird came to me and 
 took me to her lodge of mourning and nursed me. 
 And I told her the vow I had made ; but she, mourn- 
 ing, cried that I had lost my senses. So it was that I 
 lay for many nights and saw the ghosts, and they 
 jeered at me for not keeping my vow and demanded 
 that I do so or die and be with them. These things I 
 told Red Bird, and she, fearing I might die, consented 
 that she would go with me and keep my promise." 
 
 One morning, when the dogs of the village were 
 reconnoitring the outer lodges, there appeared among 
 them a man and a woman, Crow King and Red Bird, 
 going about on all fours and eating of the scraps that 
 were thrown to the dogs. The people followed them 
 about, jeering, and Red Bird hid her face, but kept 
 her promise through the length of the day. This story 
 I was told by many of the people, and also the end 
 of it, years after. 
 
 With the going down of the sun, Crow King and his 
 wife went to their tepee and became as man and 
 [83] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 woman again, but never thereafter as man and wife. 
 The shame that Red Bird endured killed her love 
 for Crow King, but she remained in his tepee uncom- 
 plainingly for a long time. Crow King became well 
 and strong, but there was a great grief on him, and he 
 sorrowed that he had not died as a man. No man 
 pointed the finger of scorn at him, for he was quick 
 to see a jibe, and ready and able to take care of him- 
 self and his honor as a warrior. The occurrence made 
 no difference in his standing in the tribe, but with Red 
 Bird it was different: the women and the children 
 made mock of her, and she grew to hate the man who 
 had made her the scorn of the camp. 
 
 For two years she lived in the tepee of Crow King 
 and said no word, but sorrowed. Then there came 
 one day a young man of another band visiting, and 
 while Crow King was sitting in council, Red Bird got 
 up, and left his lodge, and went with the stranger, 
 eloping to live among strange people. Crow King did 
 not pursue them, nor did he show any anger, but 
 when, two winters later, his band made a camp close 
 to the village in which lived Red Bird and the man 
 with whom she had eloped, he sought them out, and 
 taking with him two of his best horses gave them to 
 the new husband of Red Bird and told him he hoped 
 the woman was happy and he would help her hus- 
 band to riches, for he had put a great shame on her 
 and she was right in leaving him. 
 
 The loss of Red Bird did not put Crow King out 
 of favor with fortune, and that in spite of the fact that 
 he would have no more to do with ghosts or medicine 
 of any sort, until the time when his brother. High 
 Bear, fell ill. Crow King dearly loved his brother 
 [84] 
 
CROW KING STOPS THE MEDICINE MEN 
 
 High Bear, who had a wasting disease, and the medi- 
 cine men of the Hunkpapas said that he was possessed 
 of an evil spirit which should be exorcised. Had there 
 been a white doctor in the neighborhood he might 
 have told them that High Bear had tuberculosis, and 
 that it would presently be unnecessary to employ any 
 medicine man. 
 
 In despair, but with belief. Crow King told the 
 big medicine man of the band to cure his brother and 
 he would pay the bill. He attacked High Bear with 
 as much vigor as though he was a white medicine man 
 and the patient the possessor of a vermiform appendix 
 and rich relatives. With charms and incantations, 
 he attacked the devil that was making High Bear 
 cough and pine, and for every new form of treatment 
 he invented a new excuse for a charge and took ponies 
 from Crow King, who owned more horses than any 
 man of his band. The medicine man might have 
 felt some justification in relieving Crow King of his 
 horses, in the knowledge that he had come by those 
 same horses by means a little more high-handed, 
 but not more honest, than those he was practicing. 
 Horses and buffalo robes constituted the wealth of 
 the Sioux in those days, for of money and the things 
 money could buy they knew nothing. And Crow 
 King, the Croesus of his band, was like to be impov- 
 erished unless the medicine man hurried the pro- 
 cess of nature and brought about the taking off of 
 High Bear sooner than the course of his disorder war- 
 ranted. For, inspired by the richness of the reward, 
 he subjected the patient to such rigorous treatment, 
 that he might well elect to die to escape it. 
 
 It was a common practice of the southwestern and 
 [85] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 western Indians to kill the medicine man who pre- 
 tended to be able to cure a patient and failed. And 
 this was just enough, for the medicine man of the In- 
 dians never admitted that there was any doubt about 
 his medicine — there was no "perhaps" in his treat- 
 ment. He announced that he could cure the patient 
 if he liked. I have heard of cases well within the 
 memory of man, when the death of the medicine man 
 followed at once on his failure to cure the patient, 
 and the taking-off of the quack was by very violent 
 means. This practice was never resorted to among the 
 Sioux to my knowledge, or in the memory of the older 
 Indians. The medicine man of the Sioux may have 
 been sharper than his fellow bunco-man to the south 
 and west, or it may be that he did not commit himself 
 to the point of defaulting his own life. He always 
 claims to have power of life and death, and when his 
 treatment fails, he simply explains that the medicine 
 of a power he could not reach or cope with was more 
 potent than his medicine. He once wielded a tre- 
 mendous power, but it is fast disappearing, so far 
 as the outer and visible evidences of his old-time 
 glory are concerned. And the affair of High Bear 
 had much to do with breaking down the faith of the 
 people in the medicine men. 
 
 At the time of which I speak the medicine men were 
 not so numerous among the Sioux living beyond the 
 Missouri River as among those bands living to the 
 east. The Hunkpapas, a band of the Trans- Missouri 
 Sioux, from which sprang many of their biggest 
 chiefs, supplied a very considerable share of the medi- 
 cine men of the Tetons. They did not live always 
 with one band, but went about visiting with their 
 [86] 
 
CROW KING STOPS THE MEDICINE MEN 
 
 faking brethren of the other bands. And it is probable 
 that, although each individual knew himself to be a 
 pretender, each was afraid that the other might have 
 real medicine and destroy him with it. Therefore it 
 was that, when High Bear was sick, and the most 
 profitable patient in the Sioux nation, his doctors 
 were not restricted to those of his own band, the 
 Hunkpapas, but included many eminent fakirs from 
 the other bands to the west of the Missouri. 
 
 Upon High Bear they practiced their many arts. 
 Each medicine man had for a fetich a charm of mighty 
 power, with which he accomplished his magic. One 
 would work through the potent agency of an eagle's 
 claw, another cast out devils by means of the magic 
 of an elk's horn, another by being possessor of the 
 secret power in the claw of a bear. The medicine 
 was generally in the form of some relic of a de- 
 parted bird, beast, or fish. Some avoided the use of 
 any charm, and I knew, and know still, an old fellow 
 called Eats-No-Fish, whose peculiar powers were sup- 
 posed to be derived from the abstinence from fish- 
 eating which his name implies. 
 
 A score of medicine men offered to try their arts 
 upon High Bear, to no purpose. The man in charge 
 tried to reduce his daily fever by the use of the sweat- 
 bath, alternating with icy plunges — and these pro- 
 moted the disorder, to the great delight of the fakirs, 
 who insisted that a devil could be cast out only by the 
 use of a more potent spirit, one declaring that the 
 sick man had in his stomach bad medicine in the form 
 of an eagle claw, with which so^ae evil-disposed medi- 
 cine man had hoodooed him ; that he could not prac- 
 tice upon the patient and have him disgorge the claw, 
 [87] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 but would perform a spell by transferring the claw 
 to his own stomach and so get rid of it. The test, 
 made in public, was successful, in so far that it car- 
 ried the medicine man to the very verge of the grave 
 according to the testimony of his own lips ; his writh- 
 ings were dreadful when he proclaimed that the bad 
 medicine had taken up its abode in him. Further 
 incantations resulted in the ejectment of a tremendous 
 claw from the mouth of the medicine man. The cure 
 was effected to the satisfaction of the concourse of 
 people who witnessed the working of the medicine. 
 But High Bear died. And Crow King was ruined, for 
 his horses he had given to the medicine man, and the 
 rest of his goods went to those who, according to 
 tribal custom, could seize them. Then it was that 
 Crow King washed his hands of the medicine men 
 and administered a blow to superstition that lingered 
 in the minds of the people for many moons. Inci- 
 dentally he put the tribe of quacks out of business. 
 
 Crow King made a feast. He was no longer a 
 widower. It is not good for a white man to live alone, 
 but it is out of the question for an Indian to live in a 
 womanless wigwam. He had taken unto himself a 
 wife who did the work of the household. To her he 
 gave orders to prepare the feast. Three tepees he 
 joined together to make a great lodge. A dog soldier 
 he sent forth, furnished with the little sticks that each 
 Sioux of any station used, peculiarly marked, like 
 the invitation-cards of the white man, and each medi- 
 cine man received one of the sticks as a notification 
 that he was expected as a guest, and to bring with 
 him the medicine outfit through which he derived his 
 supernatural power. 
 
 [88] 
 
CROW KING STOPS THE MEDICINE MEN 
 
 The woman cooked the viands : dainty bits of buf- 
 falo-hump, selected portions of deer meat, Indian 
 turnips and sugar in quantity; for, although Crow 
 King was impoverished, his credit was good, his 
 friends knew that there were many ponies for Crow 
 King in the Crow pastures. In the centre of the great 
 lodge a roaring fire was built, and around the inner 
 walls of the lodge were seated the medicine men. 
 Then Crow King made a speech. He told his guests 
 that they were great medicine men, their charms were 
 potent, and their influence with the spirits such as to 
 make them feared of all men. He had bidden them to 
 a feast, but before the feasting, he would ask that they 
 rejoice his eyes with a sight of the charms with which 
 they performed their wonders. And each medicine 
 man, seeing the opportunity to exploit the potency 
 of his particular fetich, produced a medicine-bag and 
 took from it, with an elaboration of ceremony, the 
 charm that he worked by. Crow King walked about 
 the circle, and took from each his medicine-sack con- 
 taining his charm : a bear claw in one, the foot of a 
 rabbit in another, the dried eye of a wolf in a third, 
 and so on, until he had accumulated practically all 
 the medicine then standing between the Hunkpapa 
 Sioux and untoward fate, in the form of evil spirits. 
 And the whole lot, including the medicine-bags, he 
 threw into the fire. 
 
 The medicine men looked to see the impious one 
 drop dead ; the crowd gathered before the open lodge 
 groaned. Crow King made another speech. He told 
 them that their medicine was a lie, and that they had 
 robbed him as they had always robbed the people. 
 He invited them to take what revenge they might on 
 [89] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 him, but not to let him catch them at it. Then he 
 ordered the food served, and they were constrained to 
 eat with what appetite they might. 
 
 Christianizing influences have gone far to redeem 
 the Sioux from their more nonsensical superstitions, 
 but the old men at Standing Rock still speak with 
 awe of the time when Crow King defied the ghosts 
 and the medicine men, and left the people without a 
 charm to save them from the powers of evil. And that 
 feast was the beginning of the end of the medicine 
 man among the Sioux, as an institution. 
 
 As the representative of the government at Stand- 
 ing Rock agency, I had come to know Crow King 
 and to regard him highly as a man of influence who 
 might be depended upon to exert that influence in 
 the right direction. He had been with Sitting Bull, 
 and was one of the lieutenants of that worthy in the 
 campaign that put an end to the war strength of the 
 Sioux. When he had come into the agency as a hos- 
 tile, I found him to be a man who could be depended 
 on to do what he agreed to. We had an understand- 
 ing, and I was easily content to do nothing that would 
 aflFect his standing or influence with his people; for 
 although the government no longer recognized the 
 tribal authority of the chief, still it was easier to deal 
 with one man of influence than to have to deal with 
 many irresponsible ones. 
 
 I wanted Crow King for my friend, on account of 
 the uprightness of his character and the importance 
 of his attitude in the eyes of the other Indians — and 
 they were far from being a gentle, easily handled lot 
 in those days, when the light of the war-fires was 
 [90 ] 
 
CROW KING 
 
CROW KING STOPS THE MEDICINE MEN 
 
 still in the eyes of many of them. Crow King had 
 met me in many matters of importance, but in the 
 most important aim of my administration he was 
 loath to listen to me. I was trying to get the late 
 hostiles to put their children into the school, and 
 wanted a few of the head men to set an example 
 by sending their children in. Crow King had a 
 daughter, then about eight years old, the child of 
 the wife who succeeded Red Bird, and he would 
 not, in the beginning, consent to part with her. I 
 talked to him frequently about placing her in the 
 agency boarding school, and his answer invariably 
 was "Toksta" (wait awhile) ; he would do anything 
 else I asked him, but he would not consent to place 
 his girl in school. 
 
 This trait — love of children — is the most com- 
 mon characteristic of the Indian father and mother. 
 The affection displays itself in lavish form and terms 
 of endearment, and the parents idolize the children, 
 who in their turn show the most unbounded affec- 
 tion for both father and mother. I have seen a boy 
 returned from a non-reservation school, bearing all 
 the consciousness of his superiority to his earlier asso- 
 ciates, run half a mile to meet, embrace, and fondle 
 his father or mother, veritable old blanket Indians. 
 
 If Crow King could be induced to give up his girl 
 and put her in school, I might feel that I had made 
 a start with the children of the other late hostiles, 
 of whom there were about three thousand on the 
 reservation. This he refused to do for some months, 
 but always with the encouraging word, "Toksta." 
 One evening early in the spring "of 1882, while en- 
 gaged in my office, I was told that Crow King was 
 [91 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 outside and wanted to see me. I went out. He stood 
 at the door, holding a horse by a rawhide lariat ; on 
 the horse was seated a girl, his daughter. 
 
 He made no speech, or uttered a word, but put 
 into my hand the rein by which he led the horse, and 
 turned away to hide his grief at parting with his child, 
 whom I placed in the agency boarding-school that 
 evening, admonishing the principal to see that the 
 girl was given every possible care and attention to 
 make her contented, with the hope that other Indians 
 of the hostile camp might be induced to send in their 
 children, which hope was fully realized during the 
 following summer. 
 
 The horse upon which Crow King brought his 
 daughter to me was a six-year-old iron gray, trained 
 to buffalo-hunting, of more than ordinary swiftness, 
 and the only one he owned at the time. When the 
 hostile Sioux surrendered, at Camp Poplar River, 
 Forts Buford and Keogh, they were dismounted and 
 disarmed, but the principal chiefs were each permitted 
 to retain one horse. This iron gray, being Crow 
 King's favorite horse, was retained by him, and taken 
 down the Missouri River from Fort Buford to Stand- 
 ing Rock agency on the same steamboat on which 
 Chief Crow King and the members of his surrendered 
 band were brought. 
 
 Immediately upon Crow King's handing me the 
 lariat by which he led the horse, he turned about and 
 started on foot toward his camp, about four miles dis- 
 tant, leaving the horse and his daughter with me. I 
 knew Indian character too well — and Crow King's 
 in particular — to call him back to get his horse, as 
 it would have been to him highly insulting. I knew 
 [92] 
 
CROW KING STOPS THE MEDICINE MEN 
 
 immediately upon meeting him at the door that he 
 had brought his daughter to be placed in school, and 
 that he had given me his only horse to show his 
 respect and good intentions ; but having hitherto re- 
 frained from accepting a gift from an Indian under 
 my charge, I was in a dilemma to know how to pro- 
 ceed in the premises. 
 
 I did not meet Crow King after this until some 
 weeks had elapsed, but I learned in the meantime that 
 he was working among his people to have them send 
 their children to school, as he had sent his daughter, 
 and his efforts produced good results. 
 
 Determining to "play Indian" on Crow King as 
 he had manifested his friendship for ine, and learn- 
 ing, upon inquiry, that a man named Zahn, living 
 on the Cannon Ball River, about twenty-five miles 
 north of Standing Rock agency, had a four-year old 
 mare and colt for sale, I drove up to his ranch and 
 purchased them. The mare was an excellent animal, 
 very gentle, and the colt was an exceptionally good 
 one. 
 
 This was about four weeks after Crow King had 
 presented me with his only horse. I started for the 
 Indian camp late in the evening, leading the mare be- 
 hind my vehicle, with the colt following, timing my 
 drive so as to reach the village shortly after sundown, 
 when most of the Indians would be in their tepees. 
 Indians in those days invariably had a stake driven in 
 the ground near the door of their tepees, so that 
 mounted visitors might tie their horses securely when 
 calling. Crow King's lodge stood at the extreme 
 southwestern corner of the camp, close to the main 
 traveled wagon-road. I drove as noiselessly as pos- 
 [93] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 sible through the Indian village, and as we were pass- 
 ing his lodge, Philip Wells, whom I had taken with 
 me for that purpose, jumped from the wagon without 
 stopping our team, and quickly fastening the rope, by 
 which the mare was led, to the hitching-stake, we pro- 
 ceeded along the main road for a short distance fur- 
 ther, then made a detour to avoid passing through the 
 camp in returning to the agency. As a matter of course 
 Crow King knew by whom the mare tied to the door 
 of the lodge was given, but he never mentioned to me 
 the horse he had given me, nor the mare and colt with 
 which I had "played Indian" upon him. 
 
 One afternoon in the summer of 1883 I started by 
 team to visit the camp of the late hostiles, and met 
 Mrs. Crow King on the road, on her way to the agency, 
 to see me, in order to obtain permission for her daugh- 
 ter at the school to visit her father, who, she said, was 
 very ill and could not live many hours. I wrote her 
 a note to take to the principal of the school, permit- 
 ting the girl to visit her home, and I proceeded directly 
 to Crow King's lodge. He received me calmly, told 
 me he was ready to die and was glad I had come to 
 see him. I found him suffering from pneumonia and 
 in a hopeless state from the Indian point of view, but 
 by no means hopeless if properly cared for. He was 
 painted for death, as was customary among the In- 
 dians of that period, and nearly every Indian of the 
 village was gathered around his lodge, ready to seize 
 upon all property he was possessed of as soon as he 
 ceased breathing, such also having then been the cus- 
 tom of the Sioux. 
 
 I dispatched a courier for the agency physician, 
 also directed that a spring wagon be sent at once, 
 [94] 
 
CROW KING STOPS THE MEDICINE MEN 
 
 supplied with mattress and blankets; and knowing 
 Crow King's lack of faith in medicine men, I remained 
 in his lodge to reason with him and obtain his con- 
 sent, before the wagon arrived, to place himself in 
 my hands for treatment. He would have no medicine 
 man, and I feared that his hatred for the tribe would 
 easily include the agency physician. I told him I 
 wanted to take him to the agency and thought he 
 could be cured. 
 
 " Medicine is a lie ; all medicine men are liars," said 
 Crow King. 
 
 I assured him that medicine was not necessary in 
 his case ; that what he needed, apart from a little stim- 
 ulant, was a comfartable bed with proper food and 
 attention, and he consented, rather to my astonish- 
 ment, to go with me. We loaded him into the wagon 
 and drove him to the agency, and put him in a spa- 
 cious, well-ventilated room, which had but recently 
 been fitted up for a dispensary. I permitted his wife, 
 brother, and sister to remain in the room with him, 
 and kept all other Indians away from the building by 
 stationing an Indian police guard around it. 
 
 I had taken rather a desperate chance. If Crow 
 King died, the Indians would be lost to faith in my 
 "medicine," but if he lived I might be certain of the 
 event having a great influence. I detailed three re- 
 liable employees, who took turns in carrying out the 
 doctor's instructions in caring for Crow King; and 
 both the doctor and myself gave him such attention as 
 few sick Indians ever had before. The second day of 
 the treatment he consented to have the death-paint 
 removed from his face. In ten days he walked home. 
 Before leaving, he tried to thank me for what had been 
 [95] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 done for him, but his feelings were too strong for ut- 
 terance. 
 
 Soon after this Crow King went out over the reserva- 
 tion to show himself to his people after his recovery, 
 and to the day of his death, when he committed to my 
 care another child, was a strong advocate for the 
 "medicine" of the white man. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 THE GREAT BUFFALO HUNT AT STANDING ROCK 
 
 Story of the Killing of Five Thousand Buffaloes by a Hunting Party 
 of Six Hundred Mounted Sioux in the Summer of 1882. 
 
 PTE, the Buffalo, was feeding on the rich grass- 
 lands at the west end of the Great Sioux reser- 
 vation, under the jurisdiction of the Standing 
 Rock agency. The Indians at the agency knew it; 
 they knew it instinctively, though it had been many 
 years since the buffalo had sought the hunting-grounds 
 of that part of the reservation. They believed that 
 Pte, finding himself near to extinction at the hands of 
 white pot-hunters, sought out the reservation that he 
 might, in the end, fulfill his mission and die to pro- 
 vide walls for the tepee, robes for the couch, sinews 
 for the bow, and meat for the store of the sons of the 
 Lakodia. For Pte carried within his hairy cover the 
 furnishing for all the primitive needs of his brother 
 the Sioux. On the wings of the wind, then, came the 
 news that Pte had arrived to make a Sioux holiday 
 and provide such meat as had never been furnished, 
 even by the most conscientious and liberal of beef- 
 contractors. With this rich store of succulent meat 
 in sight, giving assurance of a summer of good cheer, 
 with such sport as must have appealed mightily to 
 the heart of the hunter, it was not possible that the 
 Indians could be held in check. I therefore took the 
 initiative and proposed to the head men that a great 
 [97] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 buffalo-hunt should be organized. I have been mea- 
 surably successful in dealing with the Indian because 
 I have treated him as a man, but I am firmly con- 
 vinced that the organization of the hunt at that time, 
 and under the existing conditions, did more than any- 
 thing else in bringing about a good understanding 
 with the people whom I lived with and guided for so 
 many years. 
 
 When I took charge of the Indians on the Standing 
 Rock reservation, they were a sullen lot, and suspi- 
 cious of every move made by the government or its 
 administrative officers. On the day that I arrived at 
 the agency to assume charge, September 8, 1881, 
 Sitting Bull and one hundred and forty-six of the 
 more turbulent of his followers were taken down the 
 Missouri River to be held prisoners at Fort Randall. 
 The circumstances were not auspicious. I moved 
 my family and household goods down the Missouri, 
 from Bismarck to Fort Yates, the military post ad- 
 joining the agency on the south, making the trip on 
 the steamer General Sherman. As the steamer ap- 
 proached the Fort Yates landing I saw a prospect that 
 was not calculated to inspire hope in the breast of a 
 man who had accepted the appointment with the sin- 
 cere determination of turning a lot of wild Indians 
 into civilized human beings by moral suasion and 
 firm guidance, divorced altogether from the sugges- 
 tion of coercion. 
 
 On the bench of the river-bank stood the tepees of 
 Sitting Bull and his band. A cordon of troops hemmed 
 in the encampment. All around this bench, where 
 stood the camp of the most vicious and bitter of the 
 Hunkpapa Sioux, there was and is an amphitheatre 
 [ 98 J 
 
BUFFALO HUNT AT STANDING ROCK 
 
 of hills, and on these hills lay the people of the reser- 
 vation. The showing of force was sufficient to quell 
 any disposition on the part of the Indians to interfere 
 with the removal of Sitting Bull and his band, even 
 if they had been so disposed, which they were not. 
 The more intelligent of the Sioux had long since 
 considered Sitting Bull a boastful pretender, that as 
 a leader he was a fraud ; and his power in the Sioux 
 nation was gone when he was deserted by Gall, Crow 
 King, and other of the trusted chiefs. A few hours 
 after my arrival, Sitting Bull, with his one hundred 
 and forty-six immediate followers, was taken down 
 the Missouri River to Fort Randall, and I was left to 
 deal with nearly six thousand Indians, over half of 
 whom had been out with Sitting Bull in active hostil- 
 ity for several years, and who, from the disappearance 
 of buffalo in the section of country to which they had 
 fled after the campaign of 1876, were compelled to 
 return and surrender to the United States military 
 authorities at various frontier posts, the garrisons of 
 which had been constantly harassing them after the 
 battle of the Little Big Horn. 
 
 On the Standing Rock reservation, and principally 
 huddled about the agency — which was located then, 
 as now, sixty miles south of Bismarck, North Dakota, 
 on the west bank of the Missouri River — there were 
 Hunkpapas, Yanktonais, Blackfeet, Minniconjous, 
 Sans Arcs, Oglalas, Brules, and some minor bands : 
 a miscellaneous crew, many of them fresh from a life 
 of vagabondage, and not a few as hostile at heart as 
 any Indians ever were. It was not promising material, 
 and it was very raw, but I was far from hopeless of 
 doing something with it. 
 
 [99] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 It was in the following spring, after a hard winter, 
 that I was inspired to take the people on a buffalo 
 hunt that would at once show my faith in them and 
 give them the healthful exercise and natural food they 
 were pining for. 
 
 I was on excellent terms with those of the leaders 
 who had intelligence enough to appreciate the fact 
 that the white man's way must be made the path of 
 the Indian. The most trustworthy of these men I 
 had appointed policemen. The chiefs of dignity and 
 importance, who had shown a good disposition, were 
 treated with consideration. I reckoned among my 
 friends such men as Gall and Crow King, both of 
 whom had been lieutenants of Sitting Bull, and had 
 accompanied him in his flight after the Custer affair ; 
 Rain-in-the-Face and John Grass, the latter a dis- 
 tinguished orator and influential man, Fire Heart, 
 Kill Eagle, Crazy Walking, — now judge of the court 
 of Indian offenses at Standing Rock agency, — 
 Spotted Horn Bull, Gray Eagle, Charging Thunder, 
 and many others who were not chiefs originally but 
 who were advanced as I found them influential and 
 intelligent. Through these men I made known my 
 desire that the people might organize a hunt. 
 
 The bands were all camped about the agency, 
 and for several days previous to that upon which 
 the expedition was to move, June 10, there was such 
 excitement as had not been seen for many moons. 
 Men, women, and children were engaged in the prep- 
 aration. Arms were brought out and cleaned ; am- 
 munition was provided, and this was a most important 
 matter. I had been engaged in quietly disarming the 
 people, and it was impossible for any of them to ob- 
 [ 100] 
 
BUFFALO HUNT AT STANDING ROCK 
 
 tain cartridges except on my order. These orders were 
 made in favor of individuals and for a limited number 
 of cartridges, but it was desirable that they should not 
 receive the impression that I was fearful of their ob- 
 taining too great a supply. 
 
 The ponies that had been having a hard time during 
 the winter were given such careful attention as must 
 have surprised them. The finest clothing and decora- 
 tions were brought out, and the women vied with one 
 another in embellishing the personal outfits of the 
 hunters of their families. It would hardly be possible 
 to make a more glittering array of a body of Indians, 
 and the plains of Dakota had not for many years seen 
 so resplendent a gathering of these people as that 
 which moved out of Standing Rock just after dawn on 
 the tenth of June, 1882. And it was many hours later 
 before the last of the straggling column disappeared 
 from view over the buttes to the west of the agency. 
 
 The buffalo had been located one hundred miles to 
 the west, in a country now beyond the limits of the 
 reservation, but which was at that time within the 
 boundary. The great body of the people would move 
 slowly, and it was arranged that the Indians should 
 have a few days the start of myself and the little party 
 who were to accompany me. On the morning of June 
 15 I left the agency. With me was my son, Harry, 
 then a lad of fourteen, who distinguished himself on 
 the hunt by killing seven buffalo calves, Steve Burk, 
 James Stitsell, Thomas Miller, and John Eagle Man, 
 the latter an Indian policeman. Our supply-wagon 
 had been sent on ahead. We overtook the main body 
 of Indians that evening at Cedar Creek, fifty miles 
 west of the agency, where a camp was made and the 
 [101] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 important business of selecting and starting off the 
 scouts to locate the herd was gone through with. 
 
 The camp was made according to the tribal custom, 
 and all the honors were accorded traditional belief. 
 In the slovenly Indian of the agency there is little to 
 suggest that he and his people do all things by system, 
 that he and they are the creatures of custom ; but, 
 in fact, the Sioux has the most solemn regard for 
 the usages of his people. He is given to ceremonial 
 wherever it is possible, and he is unprogressive, ac- 
 cording to our light, because he will not undertake to 
 do those things for which custom has prescribed no 
 system. The buffalo hunt was unquestionably the 
 most important business of the year to the Sioux, and 
 in going into the hunt an elaborate ceremonial, some 
 portions of it based on good sense and much of it on 
 the outgrowth of arbitrary custom, was indulged in by 
 them. 
 
 When I overtook the Indians at Cedar Creek (the 
 south fork of the Cannon Ball River) the camp was 
 pitched close to where the Bismarck and Black Hills 
 trail crosses that stream. An opening had been left in 
 the circle of lodges and I was conducted through this. 
 The camp was practically deserted, but for a few old 
 men and women. The Indians had gathered in a great 
 body some distance to the west of the camp, and to 
 this gathering-place I made my way. I may say that, 
 although I had spent ten years with the Sisseton and 
 Wahpeton bands, I knew little of the customs of the 
 Teton bands, and the ceremonial of a buffalo hunt 
 was new to me. 
 
 The two thousand Indians were seated on the prai- 
 rie, forming a crescent-shaped body, the horns of the 
 [ 102 ] 
 
BUFFALO HUNT AT STANDING ROCK 
 
 crescent opening to the west. At the south horn of the 
 crescent were seated the important men in the hunt 
 organization. Running Antelope, the leader of the 
 hunt and an orator of prominence, at the extreme 
 end ; next to him Long Soldier, and then Red Horse, 
 who divided with Running Antelope the direction of 
 the party. Around the crescent the people were seated 
 with due regard for rank from the place of honor, the 
 men in the front rows. Across the horns of the cres- 
 cent, the opening would measure a hundred yards. 
 Before the place occupied by Running Antelope there 
 was set up a painted stone, some ten inches high, an- 
 swering the purpose of an altar, and as I approached, 
 there gathered about the altar eight young men who 
 had been selected as scouts to go ahead and spy out 
 the buffalo. At their head was Crazy Walking, and 
 all had been carefully chosen, not oniy for their quali- 
 ties as hunters, but because they were known to be 
 truthful and of good moral character. They were as 
 fine a body of young men as could be found in the 
 Sioux nation, and many of them came to be men of 
 prominence, Crazy Walking being now, as I have 
 said, an Indian judge at Standing Rock agency. 
 
 The scouts being seated, Running Antelope ha- 
 rangued them on the importance of their mission and 
 how necessary it was that their work should be care- 
 fully done and correctly reported. He pointed to the 
 importance of the undertaking, the necessity for cau- 
 tion, and closed by administering to each of them an 
 oath binding them to report correctly what they saw 
 in the hunting country. The oath was administered 
 amid breathless silence, the men in the semicircle 
 even putting away their pipes while Running Antelope 
 [ 103] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 filled the sacred pipe. This he did with much delib- 
 eration, then, taking a spoon-shaped wooden utensil 
 used only on ceremonial occasions, he drew a coal 
 from the fire, placed it on the tobacco, offered the pipe 
 to the earth in front of him, to propitiate the spirits 
 which make the ground fruitful, then to the sky, in- 
 voking the blessing of the Great Spirit. Taking a pull 
 from the pipe, with the peculiar hissing sound of the 
 Indian smoker, he passed it to Crazy Walking, who 
 placed his hand, holding the bowl of the pipe, on the 
 painted stone and drew one puff of smoke, and so 
 passed it down the line, each scout repeating the per- 
 formance. I was hardly prepared for the change that 
 came over the multitude when the ceremony was 
 concluded. Instantly every man owning a horse was 
 on his feet, shouting and gesticulating and congratu- 
 lating the scouts on their good fortune, and the horses 
 were brought up. John Eagle Man, my policeman, 
 explained to me that the scouts must now be escorted 
 forth from the circle and taken some distance on their 
 way, then the escort must race back and ride into and 
 between the horns of the crescent, following a line 
 upon which three freshly cut green bushes had been 
 set up, about ten yards apart, and within a few feet 
 of the front rank of the Indians. If, in passing the 
 bushes, the leader of the race should fail to knock any 
 of these bushes down, the hunt might as well be aban- 
 doned ; should he knock one down, it would augur but 
 indifferent success ; if two were knocked over, the 
 chase would be fairly successful, and if, by a happy 
 chance, the rider should upset all three of the bushes, 
 then there would be a great amount of game killed 
 and the people would be rich beyond the telling. 
 [ 104] 
 
BUFFALO HUNT AT STANDING ROCK 
 
 My knowledge of the Indian had already taught me 
 that nothing impresses him so much as having the 
 reputation of being lucky or bringing good luck. I 
 had an excellent horse, a present from Crow King, as 
 narrated in chapter six. For several weeks the animal 
 had been fed with grain and well exercised, and I 
 could depend on his speed. I made up my mind then 
 that I would try for the reputation of having good 
 medicine as a prophet by knocking down the bushes. 
 
 A howling, shouting, joyous mob of about three 
 hundred mounted men started out with the scouts. 
 It takes an occasion of this sort to induce the Sioux to 
 throw off his affected indifference and his borrowed 
 reputation for stoicism. As a matter of fact, my ex- 
 perience among the Indians has taught me that when 
 they are happy they are exuberant and noisy in their 
 demonstrations of joy, and the band that went forth 
 that evening, singing and careering about on their 
 horses, were as light-hearted a lot of men as I ever 
 saw anywhere. They dashed recklessly about the 
 scouts, touching them with lucky charms, shouting 
 out encouragement and advice, and joking them on 
 their love-affairs. For about two miles the escort con- 
 tinued with the scouts; then a whoop rang out that 
 was taken up by some hundreds of mounted men, and 
 screaming a good-by to the scouting party, the escort 
 wheeled and dashed back toward the camp. I was 
 hardly ready for the beginning of the race, but re- 
 covered soon enough to be well up with the leaders. I 
 had something of an advantage over the Indians by 
 having observed the lay of the land very closely while 
 going out, and that a slight deviation from the direct 
 course in returning to camp would avoid some rough 
 [105] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 ground and stony ridges, which would greatly tax a 
 horse running at topmost speed. Furthermore, my 
 horse had not been worn out in the display of horse- 
 manship incident to the outgoing journey indulged in 
 by the Indians, and I made up my mind to save him 
 for a fast finish. 
 
 The details of that mad race in the midst of a swarm 
 of whooping Indians do not remain very fresh in my 
 memory. I only know that, as I drew up to the horns 
 of the crescent, there was only one Indian within sev- 
 eral yards of me, both of us headed straight for the 
 bushes that bore the tale of the prophecy. I managed 
 to nose my Indian out at the finish, and rode pellmell 
 along the front of the crescent-shaped column of men 
 and women, who retained their places, to witness the 
 finish and rejoice according to augury. They moved 
 not an inch, and I swerved my horse in the nick of 
 time, went straight at the bushes, and rode down all 
 three of them. 
 
 The tremendous row that followed this performance 
 I was prepared for, after witnessing the other demon- 
 stration, but I had had no idea of the importance that 
 would be attached to the feat. By the time they were 
 through with me, I understood that I had good medi- 
 cine and had established myself in the esteem of the 
 Indians of Standing Rock agency. 
 
 The next morning we took the trail after the scouts. 
 The direction was due west, and we went forward in 
 most orderly formation. Running Antelope and the 
 other leaders prescribing rules which none might 
 break. One hundred men were selected and desig- 
 nated as soldiers, their faces being painted to indicate 
 their oflSce, and their business being to preserve order 
 [ 106 ] 
 
BUFFALO HUNT AT STANDING ROCK 
 
 on the march. My son Harry, being well mounted, 
 was made a soldier. 
 
 At the head of the column marched twelve men 
 whose office it was to make the pace. They walked 
 slowly and with much deliberation, the object being 
 to restrain the better-mounted or more impetuous, 
 and the gait of the pacemaker was equal to that of 
 the slowest old man in the party. Every three miles 
 or thereabouts the pacemakers halted and sat down 
 for a smoke and rest, and during these periods of rest 
 the old men and great hunters told stories of their 
 prowess in the hunting field. 
 
 The main body marched in two columns, a few hun- 
 dred yards apart, the Hunkpapas and Blackfeet to 
 the left and the Yanktonais to the right. I traveled 
 with the Hunkpapas until the hunt really began, 
 when the Yanktonais made a row about it and de- 
 clared their right to enjoy the benefit of traveling in 
 company with the good medicine that I possessed, 
 and I went over to the other column. We made no 
 more than ten miles a day, and the march was weari- 
 some enough, but it was relieved at night by the feast- 
 ing, dancing, and story-telling in the camps. The 
 greatest orators and chief warriors of the Sioux nation 
 were in the party with us : Gall, whom I have always 
 regarded as one of the most intelligent men of his race, 
 a great orator and natural leader ; John Grass, a man 
 who became a great power with his people; Crow 
 King, Rain-in-the-Face, Spotted Horn Bull, and 
 other men of the Hunkpapas, whose names were 
 household words in the days when the Sioux had still 
 the pernicious idea that they were the equals of the 
 white man in the field. In such company — the said 
 [107] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 company having the material for feast and smoking — 
 there was no lack of entertainment at night, and I 
 frequently had to tell the people that I was sleepy in 
 order to have them leave, that I might retire for the 
 night. 
 
 The trail led through what was then and is still the 
 finest grazing country on this continent. It is not a 
 plains country, except in the sense that it bears little 
 timber, but is diversified by draws and small hills, 
 with here and there a row of majestic buttes relieving 
 the line of the horizon. Water-courses were suffi- 
 ciently numerous to provide for the stock, and the 
 ponies were in good condition. 
 
 The march lasted four days, and by the end of the 
 fourth day we were beyond the present boundary of 
 the Standing Rock reservation. At that time the 
 boundary on the west was the 103d degree of west 
 longitude, but one degree was cut off by the agreement 
 of 1889. In the forenoon of the fourth day the ad- 
 vance-guard made out the scouts. They were cut out 
 against the sky-line some ten miles away, and even at 
 that distance our people read their signals. The sig- 
 nals were made out before the men were visible to the 
 eye, in fact, for each of the scouts carried a little cir- 
 cular mirror and signaled his message by a compara- 
 tively perfect heliographic system, which was read by 
 our people and repeated. 
 
 A great herd of buffalo was grazing within a few 
 miles of the scouts. Camp was made that night to the 
 leeward, and within striking distance of the hunting- 
 ground, due provision being made that the grazing 
 herd should not be disturbed. When I arose next 
 morning the camp was the scene of much excited 
 [ 108] 
 
BUFFALO HUNT AT STANDING ROCK 
 
 activity. A half-dozen grindstones had been carried 
 along, and a clamoring mob stood about each grind- 
 stone, waiting for a turn at the knife-sharpening, 
 which could not have been attempted before with- 
 out interfering with the good medicine. While they 
 were sharpening their knives. Shave Head, an Indian 
 policeman, announced to the people that "The Fa- 
 ther" wanted a live buffalo calf. Camp was broken, 
 to the end that it might be moved up closer to the 
 scene of slaughter that was to ensue, and the hunters 
 mounted. I could not see that there was any general 
 supervision of the hunt after the game came in sight, 
 but the traditional rules of the Sioux in buffalo- 
 hunting were rigidly adhered to. 
 
 There were about six hundred mounted hunters in 
 the party, and they rode in two broad columns where 
 it was possible, but using the draws and ravines to shel- 
 ter them and prevent the game from taking fright and 
 stampeding before the Indians were amongst the bi- 
 son. I was well up in front of my party when we came 
 out on an elevation within a few hundred yards of the 
 nearest buffalo. 
 
 It was the knowledge of what would take place 
 when that band of buffalo-hungry Indians swooped 
 down into the valley, presently, that made the scene 
 that presented itself intensely interesting. So far as 
 the eye could gather, the picture was pastoral, with 
 many thousands of cattle quietly grazing on the slopes 
 of a hundred elevations. The knowledge that the 
 moving animals in the pastoral scene were buffalo, the 
 greatest game in the world, contributed to the element 
 of personal excitement ; but for the rest, I saw just such 
 a picture a few months ago in crossing the country to 
 [109] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 the east of that hunting-ground, where the cattle of 
 the "L7" outfit range. The buffalo had shed their 
 hair and looked like a vast herd of black cattle. 
 
 The slayers halted before rushing on their prey. 
 They were no longer agency Indians. Every man of 
 the lot had discarded every superfluity in the way of 
 clothing and was simply and effectively garbed in a 
 breech-cloth. Most of them carried repeating rifles 
 and all had breech-loaders, except a few of the older 
 men and the boys, whose poverty forced them to use, 
 if not to be content with, the bow and arrow. And 
 every man had a hunting-knife. 
 
 There was no shouting as the race for the herd 
 began, and we were among the buffalo, a column at- 
 tacking eack flank, before they knew it. A few of the 
 animals looked up and sniffed, some scampered to a 
 distance, but there was no stampede. In fact, so 
 widely were they scattered and so immense was the 
 herd — estimated at fifty thousand —that a stam- 
 pede would not have been possible. As the first rifle 
 cracked, a few of the animals began to run, but the 
 hunters followed them, and the hunt became a slaugh- 
 ter in less time than I have taken to tell it. 
 
 Of the details of the killing but few incidents remain 
 with me. A hunter would ride up close to his quarry, 
 take as careful aim as possible, and generally get his 
 meat with a single shot. A tough old bull or a par- 
 ticularly active two-year-old might give him trouble ; 
 but so far as I could see — and I was somewhat busy 
 myself — the hunter shot, gave the struggling animal 
 the cowp de grace, and went on for another shot. 
 As I came out of Hidden Wood Creek just previous 
 to the charge, Crow's Ghost rode up and advised me 
 r 110 1 
 
BUFFALO HUNT AT STANDING ROCK 
 
 not to charge with the first column, and John Eagle 
 Man, whom I had hitherto seen only in the sedate 
 habiliments of an Indian policeman, but who now 
 sported a breech-clout and wore a red handkerchief 
 bound about his temples, tendered the same advice. 
 I had some difficulty in keeping my party in check, 
 and my son, Harry, was particularly keen for the 
 game ; but we got into the hunt with some show of 
 order. 
 
 There was no rest during the day. The Indians 
 killed until they were dismounted or exhausted — not 
 a few of them were dismounted. 
 
 Late in the afternoon I found an old fellow un- 
 conscious, whose horse had fallen with him, another 
 whose horse had been disemboweled and who had 
 had his own leg ripped from the ankle to the knee by 
 an enraged buffalo, another with a badly lacerated 
 hand, with three fingers blown off by the bursting of 
 his gun. The hunters had paid absolutely no atten- 
 tion to those injured men ; even their relatives, who 
 would ordinarily make a great row if they were ill, had 
 passed them by unnoticed, and they had lain for hours 
 in the sun, bleeding to death. We bound up their 
 wounds, made them shelters from the sun, and left 
 them as comfortable as possible until we found their 
 relatives and had them taken to camp. 
 
 There were some amusing incidents. Wolf Neck- 
 lace, an old man about sixty years of age, handicapped 
 by poverty and the fact that a paternal government 
 did not think he needed a gun, was constrained to use 
 the bow and arrow. I found him ambling along on 
 a gray pony within easy range of an old buffalo into 
 which he had shot a number of arrows without bring- 
 [111 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 ing the animal to the ground. Somebody offered to 
 kill the buffalo. "No," said the Indian, "the arrows 
 will work in and he'll die." And the old fellow calmly 
 rode on, shooting an occasional arrow into the bull 
 until he dropped. 
 
 Another Indian, one Peter Skunk, had shot and 
 wounded a big bull with a revolver and had been dis- 
 mounted. Fortunately he landed close beside a large 
 boulder in a little depression in the prairie. He put the 
 boulder between himself and the bull with what ex- 
 pedition he could muster, and there we found him, the 
 bull chasing him about the rock and giving him no 
 time for a shot. We offered to make the killing for 
 him, but he screamed an enraged "No !" For about 
 five minutes the Indian dodged the bull, until the ani- 
 mal became tired. When he paused for a minute, 
 Skunk took advantage of the pause and planted a 
 shot behind the ear that stopped the animal. 
 
 I have known but few Indians die of heart-disease, 
 but in the midst of the hunt one met death from that 
 cause. We found a man crouching behind a rock ; he 
 had dismounted and his horse was grazing near by, 
 the rope trailing. The hunter had dismounted to pick 
 off his game with greater certainty ; his gun rested on 
 the rock, it was cocked, and a finger was on the trig- 
 ger ; in the very act of shooting, death smote him in- 
 stantaneously. 
 
 For myself I had good luck. The advice of Eagle 
 Man was too good to be disregarded. Moreover, that 
 faithful ally was by my side, determined that I should 
 not get hurt in getting my first buffalo. The column 
 with which I was riding was to attack the herd on the 
 left flank, the other column on the other flank, the two 
 [ 112 1 
 
BUFFALO HUNT AT STANDING ROCK 
 
 columns being about five miles apart when the charge 
 was made ; and the herd was to be driven together for 
 the slaughter, escape being possible only to the west, 
 as we attacked from the northeast and southeast. 
 After the first few scattering shots there was a tre- 
 mendous din all over the field, and the wildness of 
 some of the shooting made me thankful that I was 
 not in the melee; and I had my reward. A little 
 bunch of buffalo dropped behind the herd and di- 
 rectly in front of us. We rode down on the animals, 
 and I picked out a fine three-year-old cow and fired 
 into her flank at close quarters. I knew that it was 
 customary for the Indians to shoot a fleeing buffalo 
 in the flank, trusting to the certainty that the bullet 
 would work in and disable the animal. In this case I 
 aimed a little high, the cow turned, and my pony, 
 knowing more about buffalo-hunting than I did, 
 promptly wheeled to keep out of her way. I came 
 very near going out of the hunt that instant, for the 
 sudden swerve of the pony almost unseated me and 
 sent my Winchester flying twenty feet away. The cow 
 turned at once to follow the herd, and I picked up my 
 rifle and followed her ; but before I could get another 
 shot the animal again charged. I shot her between 
 the eyes as she rushed at my mount, which only made 
 her shake her head and wheel to follow the herd ; but 
 a well-directed shot behind the right fore-shoulder, as 
 she turned to the left, settled the cow, and I had my 
 first buffalo. I got four others and quit, in the know- 
 ledge that I had no means of taking care of more meat. 
 I had a good stiff ride back to camp that evening, 
 for I had lost Harry and spent some time looking for 
 him, and it was long after dark when the Indians got 
 [113] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 back to their camp. They were all too tired for story- 
 telling that night, but an estimate was made of the 
 number of buffalo killed, and it was proved correct 
 the next day, when about two thousand carcasses were 
 butchered, no attempt at butchering being made on 
 the first day. 
 
 I slept long the next morning, and when I rose I 
 found that the entire Indian encampment had been 
 moved out close to the field of the hunt. My tent stood 
 alone, but ranged about it, tied to stakes, were twenty- 
 two buffalo calves, the Indians' response to my re- 
 quest for a single calf! 
 
 The men were at work skinning and cutting up the 
 dead animals, when I arrived on the field, and that 
 day was given up to this work ; but the next day they 
 followed the herd to the west, and resumed the slaugh- 
 ter, which was even more extensive that day than in 
 the first hunt. The attack was made as before, for the 
 buffalo had moved but a short distance. They were 
 attacked on each side, and the men killed the choicer 
 animals until they had all the meat that could be 
 carried away and all the skins needed — the hides of 
 the shedding season being useless for robes. The 
 slaughter had been awful but not wanton, and I was 
 impressed with the fact then that the Indian displays 
 more restraint in hunting, even though his desire to 
 kill makes his blood boil, than the white man. I never 
 have known an Indian to kill a game animal that he 
 did not require for his needs. And I have known few 
 white hunters to stop while there was game to kill. The 
 hunt stopped when five thousand buffalo had been 
 slain. 
 
 The hunters removed the hump and other tender 
 [114] 
 
BUFFALO HUNT AT STANDING ROCK 
 
 morsels from the carcasses, quartered the beeves for 
 transport, and brought the meat in on wagons and 
 travois to the camp, which had been made on Hidden 
 Wood Creek, where there was plenty of good water, 
 which camp remained there for the jerking of the meat 
 and making of pemmican. The second day I lost my 
 saddle-horse, a herd of four or five hundred buffalo 
 stampeding directly through the camp and carrying off 
 five horses, including mine, which were out grazing. 
 The animal was not retaken then, remaining with the 
 buffalo until the following fall, when a hunting party 
 identified the beast, captured it after "creasing" it — 
 shooting it through the skin at the top of the neck, 
 just forward of the shoulder. 
 
 The night of the first butchering there was such a 
 feast as had not been held at Standing Rock for many 
 years. Mighty hunters sat down with mighty appe- 
 tites to satisfy, and ate until I stood fairly astonished 
 at the capacity of their stomachs for solid food. And 
 they told stories of the hunt — stories that did not 
 need corroboration. 
 
 Crazy Walking, whom in memory of that day I 
 made a captain of police later. Standing Soldier, 
 Henry Agard, and Frank Gates, the last two mixed 
 bloods, had each killed twenty-six buffalo ; Bull Head, 
 who was killed eight years after in carrying out my 
 order for the arrest of Sitting Bull, and who was cap- 
 tain of the soldiers in that hunt, had a mighty bag; 
 Shave Head, who died with Bull Head and who had 
 severely disciplined one of the party the night before 
 the hunt for an alleged offense against the discipline 
 of the soldiers (of which he was really innocent). Shave 
 Head too had meat for many days ; Black Bull — who 
 [115] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 sits listening, a grinning old man, as I tell this story — 
 was among the heroes in performance that day. But if 
 I would tell the tale of great hunters I must enumerate 
 the head men of the Sioux Nation. They were all in 
 that hunt and at peace on the banks of the Hidden 
 Wood Creek that night. Years after, in the trying 
 times of the ghost-dancing, when Sitting Bull sought 
 to arouse his people against the whites, there was bit- 
 terness, enmity, and death ; but that night Hunkpapas, 
 Blackfeet, Upper and Lower Yanktonais, and whites 
 were friends in feasting as they are friends to-day, and 
 I never visit my old home at Standing Rock but that 
 some of them gather at my door and go over the story 
 of the great buffalo hunt of 1882. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 How Custer and his Command rode to their Death at the Hands of 
 the Indian Allies. 
 
 I HAVE had so much to do, in the ordinary affairs of 
 life at an Indian agency, with the men who fought 
 Custer to the death at the battle of the Little Big 
 Horn, and socially and officially with many of those 
 who were members of the Seventh Horse on that 
 disastrous day in June, 1876, when the flower of the 
 American cavalry was shattered by the war-power of 
 the Sioux Nation, that I have no compunctions to con- 
 sider nor apologies to offer for telling the Indian side 
 of that fight, which story is not a new one, except in 
 the point of view. I knew very well Captain E. S. 
 Godfrey, of the Seventh Cavalry, now brigadier gen- 
 eral, retired, who wrote the article that is given the 
 place in military history. I was even able to assist him 
 to the extent of supplying him with the names of the 
 Indians who were prominent in the battle. He has 
 covered the whole bloody field with the exactitude of 
 a man devoted to military science ; he knew — as I 
 could not possibly know, except on hearsay — the dis- 
 position of the troops that day. He has given to the 
 world a very even-tempered and dispassionate story, 
 which has been universally indorsed by persons fa- 
 miliar with the campaign of 1876. The unfortunate 
 circumstances that involved the action of some mem- 
 [117] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 bers of Custer's command, and which led to such 
 bitter criticism and comment for years after the bat- 
 tle, are now being lost sight of, or talked about only 
 when grizzled veterans, who were subalterns thirty 
 years ago, get together to fight over their battles. 
 
 To most people the Custer battle is a matter of his- 
 tory, to be remembered because of the heroism and 
 dash of the men who died on the field, but holding no 
 interest of a living character. I have convictions as 
 to the points in contention between the survivors of 
 the Seventh Cavalry. From what leading Indians in 
 the engagement have told me of the fight, I am of the 
 opinion that if Custer's obvious plan of battle had been 
 carried out, — if Reno had struck the upper end of 
 the Sioux Camp when Custer struck the village at its 
 lower end, — the event might have been changed ; 
 and while the Custer force may not have been strong 
 enough to defeat the Indians, there would at least 
 have been no such disaster as that which overtook 
 the leader of the cavalry and the men with him. I do 
 not know that Major Reno, under his orders, could 
 have done other than he did in making the attack as 
 soon as he was within striking distance, but believe 
 that, if he had gone to the support of Custer when the 
 latter sent orders to Benteen to "come at once," — 
 orders that might as well apply to Reno as Benteen, — 
 it would have been impossible for the Indians to over- 
 whelm the entire regiment as they did the five troops 
 comprising Custer's immediate command. I am not 
 at all fearful that this flat statement of a convic- 
 tion acquired by many years of personal contact and 
 friendly relations with the Indians who participated 
 in the fight, and not from any prejudiced military 
 [118] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 authority, will embroil me in a dispute. The matter 
 admits of no dispute. 
 
 The big figures in the fight, from the military point 
 of view, were General George A. Custer, Lieutenant 
 Colonel commanding the Seventh Cavalry, and Chief 
 Gall of the Hunkpapa Sioux. There were others to 
 dispute the supremacy of Gall, as Crow King, also a 
 Hunkpapa, and Crazy Horse, who though an Oglala, 
 had long affiliated with the Cheyennes. Sitting Bull 
 was a factor only in that his immediate followers, who 
 subsisted by the chase, were camped in an ideal game 
 country, which brought a large body of the Sioux to- 
 gether for the summer hunt, and their assemblage was 
 effected in such manner that the military power of 
 the United States had not the remotest idea of their 
 great strength. I knew Custer personally but not well. 
 Gall I knew intimately in all the circumstances of life 
 — as well as one man can know another of alien race. 
 
 General Custer was not the dashing, devil-may- 
 care, hard-riding and fast-fighting mounted soldier 
 that the romancers have made him out. He was a 
 careful, painstaking man and officer, devoted to his 
 profession of arms and properly appreciating the 
 tools he had to work with. The dash that was sup- 
 posed to be his principal characteristic was merely a 
 part of the plan of a man who knows the essentials 
 to success. He was not careless of consequences in 
 any of the matters of life. He was a reserved and 
 somewhat reticent man. He held the admiration of 
 his officers and soldiers, not because he was their 
 idol, one whom they might follow unthinkingly, but 
 because they knew him to be a thorough soldier. He 
 might go into an undertaking when he knew the 
 [119] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 chances were against him, but he would not do it in a 
 spirit of bravado. He guessed, nearer than any one 
 else, the power of the Sioux, and he would undoubt- 
 edly have accepted the offer of reinforcements for the 
 Seventh, in the one battalion of the Second Cavalry 
 that was offered him, but for the fact that recent 
 events compelled him to the accomplishment of a 
 work that would give him such a standing before the 
 nation that the powers existing at that time would not 
 dare to interfere further with his military career. He 
 believed that the Seventh Cavalry could chastise the 
 Indians as well without as with the assistance of any 
 other organization, and he did not want to divide the 
 credit if the campaign was successful. Under ordinary 
 circumstances, if he had been in good standing, and 
 free to act on his unprejudiced judgment, he would 
 doubtless have taken all the forces he could control 
 before going into the field against an unnumbered 
 enemy. 
 
 Custer was not in favor with General Grant, then 
 President. An official report made by Custer had an 
 important bearing upon the dealings of some persons 
 closely and officially connected with the administra- 
 tion, and the President was touched to the quick. 
 With the Belknap affair threatening him with the 
 annihilation of his hopes, he was stirred out of his 
 usual habits, and he became enraged. Custer was sent 
 for to report in Washington and explain. His explana- 
 tion did not tend to ingratiate him with the President. 
 He was kept in Washington in a state of uneasiness, 
 while the command was being made ready for the 
 expedition that was aimed to break the power of the 
 hostile Indians of the West. He appealed to the Presi- 
 [ 120 ] 
 
CHIEF GALL 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 deat as a soldier, and General Terry, then in com- 
 mand of the Department of Dakota, made an appeal 
 for him. It was only at the last moment that President 
 Grant permitted Custer to be ordered to his regiment, 
 and even then he was held in a subordinate position, 
 effectually, for if he had not been in disfavor at Wash- 
 ington it is reasonably certain that he would have had 
 a larger part in the preparation for the expedition, and 
 the guidance of it, than he did. He was given his com- 
 mand as lieutenant colonel of the Seventh Regiment 
 of Cavalry, Sturgis, its colonel, being on detached ser- 
 vice. Thus it was that Custer went into the affair that 
 culminated on the Little Big Horn. He had much to 
 gain from the happy event of a desperate venture, and 
 very little to lose. But he made his dispositions with 
 great care, going to the — with him — unheard-of 
 length of taking his officers into council and confer- 
 ring with them when he thought he was within striking 
 distance of the enemy. 
 
 Gall was no more of a diplomat than Custer. He 
 was a fighting man. He had fought his way to the 
 chieftaincy of a people who recognized in a large de- 
 gree the merit that goes with personal prowess and 
 skill in battle. He had plenty of courage and dash, 
 and he was gifted with the qualities that Sitting Bull, 
 diplomat and medicine man, lacked entirely. He was 
 a power in the council over which Sitting Bull domi- 
 nated, although the latter was not a war-chief. It was 
 the generalship of Gall that kept the strength of the 
 Indians concealed from the white soldiers, in spite of 
 the fact that the forces had been in conflict on June 17, 
 preceding the Little Big Horn aJBFair, when Crazy 
 Horse actually defeated General Crook. This was 
 [121 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 before the union of the hostile forces, but it should 
 have been sufficient indication of the strength of the 
 Sioux allies. 
 
 Gall kept his forces moving over a wide expanse of 
 territory, though rarely getting far from his base in 
 the neighborhood of the Little and Big Horns. How 
 well he and his fellow tribesmen managed in conceal- 
 ing their location and superior strength was demon- 
 strated by the fact that, three days previous to the 
 battle on the Little Big Horn, Custer announced his 
 intention of following the hostiles even if the trail led 
 to Nebraska or the agencies on the Missouri River. 
 It was Gall who directed the repulse of the Reno 
 force. It was Gall's knowledge of men and military 
 affairs that led the Indians to leave Reno undisturbed 
 while they were crushing Custer, he having so dis- 
 posed his forces that Custer was completely sur- 
 rounded and cut off when he reached the spot from 
 which he had planned to strike the village of the 
 hostiles. It was not until within an hour of the end 
 that Custer came to know approximately the power 
 of the enemy, — a fact that demonstrates military 
 capacity of a high order in the leader of the opposing 
 forces, considering the number of Indians in the field, 
 the nature of the country, and the equipment of the 
 white forces in scouts. Gall, Crow King, and Crazy 
 Horse had plainly out-generaled the commanders of 
 the three columns sent against them, in hiding their 
 strength and eventually choosing the spot to give 
 battle — and the greatest of the three war-chiefs was 
 Gall. 
 
 But Gall was an Indian with an Indian's limita- 
 tions, and his soldiers savages, else it might not have 
 [ 122 ] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 been necessary for anybody to aim criticisms at Reno. 
 I never could understand why Gall did not press his 
 advantage after annihilating the Custer detachment, 
 and throw his whole strength against Reno's position. 
 Gall never gave me any satisfactory reason; other 
 Indians have told me that the people, having defeated 
 the soldiers at very small cost to themselves, did not 
 want to throw their lives away in forcing a position 
 that was susceptible to defense and was defended 
 against the weak attacks made on it during the even- 
 ing after the Custer fight and the next morning. There 
 is avast deal of independence in the Indian soldier, and 
 the probabilities are that the warriors had had enough 
 of blood considering the price they would have to pay 
 for more scalps. It is also to be considered that the 
 Sioux, though an excellent cavalry soldier in a dash, is 
 not built on lines to make a sustained attack with the 
 certainty of losses. Then the supreme authority was 
 vested in a council of chiefs, and Sitting Bull domi- 
 nated that council both before and after the battle. 
 
 During the night of June 25 — the day of the battle 
 — there was a celebration in the Sioux camp, a wild 
 orgy of blood. There was no council ; nothing took 
 place that could be called a deliberative meeting. 
 Sitting Bull had made good his promise that a great 
 defeat would be sustained by the whites ; he was not 
 the sort of man to jeopardize the reputation he had 
 established for making good medicine, and it was his 
 business to get the people out of the locality as soon 
 as he could, for he knew that General Terry and 
 Colonel Gibbon would not be long in coming to the 
 support of Custer, and he therefore encouraged the 
 license of that night. Gall, supported by Crazy Horse, 
 [123] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 directed what movement there was against Reno, but 
 the warriors did not go into it with zest. Perhaps Gall 
 failed in his authority. In any event, he never ex- 
 plained to me why he did not follow up the advantage 
 gained by the annihilation of Custer's squadron. 
 
 The war which had its culmination in the Custer 
 affair originated primarily in the need for giving the 
 white man the privilege of mining in the Black Hills. 
 Other excuses were made. It was said that it was 
 necessary to get the Indians on reservations in order 
 to permit travel through the country ; that they were 
 hostiles and engaged in continuous warfare, — all of 
 which was true enough. But under the Treaty of 1868, 
 as I have pointed out elsewhere, the Indians of the 
 Sioux nation were given the right to hunt and travel 
 in the ceded country. There was no doubt about the 
 language of the treaty. No attempt was made to get 
 an amendment of this treaty, and neither is there any 
 doubt that its provisions were ignored in other re- 
 spects. The Indians believed themselves to be abso- 
 lute owners of the land, and their right to it was undis- 
 puted, subject to the right of eminent domain in the 
 United States ; but this did not deter the government 
 from sending an expedition into the Black Hills in 
 1874. On the report of that expedition being made 
 public, there was a rush of white men into the Hills, 
 as there must have been in view of the official state- 
 ment that the country was rich in gold. The white 
 man would not stay out and the Indian must be gotten 
 out. Of course there was no use quarreling with this 
 condition. The War Department was active in getting 
 the Indians under control, and in the early winter of 
 1875-76, notice was sent out through the various 
 [ 124] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 Sioux agencies for the wandering Sioux to come in to 
 their respective agencies or be left in a position where 
 they would be treated as hostiles. Some of the Indians 
 may have gotten word of the purpose of the gov- 
 ernnient, but most of them claimed entire ignorance 
 of the order. Sitting Bull, who was undoubtedly the 
 dominating spirit of all the hostiles then in the field, 
 paid no attention to the affair whatever, except to 
 solicit the numerous members of the bands who left 
 the agencies to join his camp. Sitting Bull was thus 
 organizing a force for what he thought would result in 
 a war that would check the advance of the whites in the 
 northwest and give him supreme and potent authority. 
 
 Lieutenant General Sheridan directed the move- 
 ments to capture and bring in the Indians. He judged 
 that a winter campaign, started when the Indians were 
 still suffering from the effects of short commons in the 
 winter, would be the easiest means of rounding them 
 up. 
 
 In February it was arranged that Custer was to go 
 after Sitting Bull with cavalry, while General Crook 
 was to take care of the capture of Crazy Horse and 
 his followers. The weather was worse as spring ap- 
 proached than it had been during the early winter, 
 and it was impossible for troops from the Missouri 
 River to take the field. Crook went in from the south 
 after Crazy Horse, who was known to be somewhere 
 in the Powder River country. He met the Sioux and 
 Cheyennes, and in the fight that ensued he came off 
 with what was oflScially described as a "barren vic- 
 tory." As a matter of fact, it was a defeat. Then it 
 was determined to let the campaign stand until spring 
 opened. 
 
 [ 125] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 In the meantime Custer had gotten into trouble at 
 court, so that, when the campaign opened, he was not 
 given an independent command but was attached to 
 the column under General Terry which marched from 
 Fort Lincoln, May 17. The Indians were somewhere 
 in a wide range of country, their location and strength 
 being both unknown. Terry marched from the east. 
 Crook from the south, leaving Fort Fetterman May 
 29, while Gibbon went into the hostile country from 
 the west. So far as the battle of the Little Big Horn 
 is concerned. Gibbon and Crook may be eliminated. 
 Terry met Custer at the mouth of the Rosebud, where 
 Gibbon joined them. So little did they know of what 
 was going on that the defeat of General Crook five 
 days previously had not been heard of, nor did Terry 
 know anything of the movements of Crook for three 
 weeks afterward. Major Reno had been on a scout 
 and found the trail of a large party of Indians leading 
 up the Rosebud River. His scouts thought there might 
 be three hundred and fifty lodges in the party. On the 
 day that Reno's scouts discovered the trail, Crook 
 was engaged in fighting the Indians only forty miles 
 away. 
 
 On June 22 Terry gave Custer his final orders, and 
 the cavalry command, about six hundred strong, with 
 a pack-train and a party of Ree and Crow scouts, 
 marched out. The night before the command started 
 on the march Terry, Gibbon, and Custer had a coun- 
 cil on board the supply steamboat, the Far West, 
 commanded by Captain Grant Marsh. Grant Marsh 
 was then, as he is still, one of the figures in the navi- 
 gation of the treacherous and shifty channels of the 
 Missouri and its main arteries. They used to say of 
 [126] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 him that he could navigate a steamboat on dew, and 
 he is still navigating the Missouri north of Bismarck. 
 That council was not a very cheerful affair, for, al- 
 though there was no knowledge of disaster, still the 
 oflBcers did not know the strength or whereabouts of 
 the Indians. No one believed that the hostiles were 
 nearly as numerous as they were. General Terry, 
 who was an excellent soldier, had little personal know- 
 ledge of Indian warfare or the people, and did not 
 think they were in very great strength. Custer, basing 
 his opinion on the report brought in by Reno, thought 
 there were certainly a thousand warriors in the hostile 
 camp and possibly one thousand five hundred. His 
 figures were higher than those of anybody else; but 
 he would have estimated the enemy at eight hundred 
 if he had depended on the information that was in the 
 hands of the commanding ojfficers. How far they all 
 were from the fact was to be demonstrated in awful 
 fashion before many days. 
 
 The command left the camp with some show of 
 military pomp, the cavalry being reviewed by Terry, 
 Gibbon, and Custer as it marched out. The trail lay 
 up the Rosebud, and the march was uneventful, ex- 
 cept that Custer appeared to be strangely depressed 
 and departed from his customary method of doing 
 things without consulting his officers. On two occa- 
 sions he had officers' call sounded, and each time he 
 was abstracted, and almost genial in responding to re- 
 marks made to him. He took precautions to provide 
 for the secrecy and caution of the advance, that were 
 remarkable considering the country and his usual 
 tactics; and he hung anxiously on the expression of 
 opinions by men to whom he would ordinarily have 
 [127] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 paid no attention. When the scouts had approxi- 
 mately located the hostiles on the Little Big Horn and 
 it was known that a conflict was impending, he was 
 undoubtedly impressed by the attitude, rather than by 
 the reports, of the Ree and Crow scouts. These In- 
 dian scouts did not see the main body of the hostiles, 
 but judging from the evidences they saw along the 
 trail, concluded that a large number of Indians had 
 passed over it. The encampment, however, of the 
 one large force strung along the trail with the several 
 bands widely separated, was mistaken for a succes- 
 sion of camps of an ordinary hunting-party. 
 
 The scouts were not anxious for a fight. That ap- 
 pears certain. They did not think the cavalry force 
 was suflBcient to cope with the Sioux. General God- 
 frey says that "Mitch" Bouyer, the guide and Crow 
 interpreter, asked him how many Indians they ex- 
 pected to find, and being told between a thousand and 
 fifteen hundred, asked if he thought the command 
 could whip that many. Godfrey said, "Yes." Bouyer 
 
 said, " Well, you can bet you are going to have a of 
 
 a big fight." The Rees were depressed up to the last. 
 They were inactive during a day or two before the 
 battle. They and their people had had much experi- 
 ence of Sioux warfare and had suffered a great deal at 
 the hands of the very people they were looking for. 
 They made medicine continually, and before the fight 
 they were all anointed by their medicine men and 
 their prayer-dances were solemn and ominous. 
 
 Custer was affected by the attitude of the scouts, 
 
 although he declared, when an interpreter said the 
 
 Indians believed there would be a two or three days' 
 
 fight, that he guessed they could be taken care of in 
 
 [128] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 one day; but his officers noticed that he smiled sadly 
 when he made the comment. 
 
 The trail was found to lead over the divide between 
 the Rosebud and the Little Big Horn, and the march- 
 ing was rapid, though not of a nature to exhaust the 
 troops or horses, and during the night of the 24th of 
 June a considerable distance was made; for it was 
 generally understood that the Indians were acquainted 
 with the presence of the troops, and rapid action was 
 thought necessary. Even then the command had no 
 knowledge of the location or number of the enemy, 
 though the last halt was made only twelve miles from 
 the Sioux village. 
 
 Up to that morning it had been the intention of 
 Custer to strike the camp early in the morning of the 
 26th if he could get within striking distance. His 
 knowledge of Indian warfare taught him that such 
 would be the proper time for an attack, and it was a 
 most unusual thing to attack Indians assembled in 
 force in the daytime. Even if the general had had full 
 and accurate knowledge of the number and disposi- 
 tion of the Indians, he would not have chosen to at- 
 tack in the middle of the day unless compelled to do 
 so. If he had been fully advised, he certainly would 
 not have divided his command, as he did when the last 
 halt was made, or soon thereafter. It appears that an 
 order for a division of the command was given after 
 the start was made, though Benteen, with his battal- 
 ion, was at once deployed to the left and front, in the 
 general direction of the upper end of the Indian vil- 
 lage. Reno's battalion, which had the van, kept on 
 until it came upon a tepee containing the body of a 
 dead Indian. Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull says in her 
 [ 129 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 story that this was the body of Chief Circling Bear's 
 brother, a man of some prominence, and that he was 
 killed in a skirmish with the Crows a few days previ- 
 ous, the Sioux believing they were engaged with Crows 
 and Shoshones instead of with Crook. The Ree 
 scouts with the Custer party set fire to the tepee. 
 
 When Reno had gotten very close to the Little Big 
 Horn, he received orders to press forward as fast as 
 was prudent and charge the village, and the whole 
 command would support him. Reno, acting on these 
 orders, crossed the Little Big Horn and made ready 
 for the charge. 
 
 Custer went off somewhat to the right of the river 
 and followed a ridge, which he held to until he took 
 his last position at its extreme abrupt point, over- 
 looking the valley of the Little Big Horn. Benteen 
 had moved out to the left, but the nature of the coun- 
 try forced him to the right, and he eventually struck 
 Reno's trail and came up with the major's command, 
 after the latter had retreated across the Little Big 
 Horn, and taken position on the hill east of the river, 
 where the seven troops practically remained until 
 Terry and Gibbon came up from the north on the 
 27th. 
 
 In the Indian village on the west bank of the 
 Greasy Grass, as the Indians call the Little Big Horn, 
 ten thousand or more Sioux, male and female, in- 
 cluding their allies, the Cheyennes, and a few — not 
 many — Arapahoes, were awaiting the attack from 
 the lower end of the camp, they having for more than 
 an hour seen Custer's column marching along the 
 ridge in that direction. The village was concentrated 
 beyond the usual conditions in a large gathering of 
 [130] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 bands — the only evidence of anticipation of warfare. 
 It had not been located with a view to defending it 
 from attack. Gall told me that its location had not 
 been decided upon in advance. It had no military 
 advantage, except that it was located on the west side 
 of a river that was easily fordable in a good many 
 places and not particularly difficult of access. It was 
 proven by demonstration that the encampment was 
 exposed to attack from either end, and if the chiefs 
 had been on the defensive, or thought that the sol- 
 diers might approach in force from the east and suc- 
 ceed in crossing the river, they certainly would not 
 have left their village, situated along the river for a 
 distance of over three miles, so open to easy attack. 
 
 The leading Indians in the affair told me, when 
 talking with them in reference to the conflict, that 
 they had great confidence in their numerical strength. 
 They supposed that the soldiers knew how strong 
 they were. They were not inviting attack — not " spoil- 
 ing for a fight." What they wanted, as a whole, was 
 to be left alone to hunt the game with which the 
 country abounded ; that it was in no sense a war- 
 party except in the capacity and readiness of the 
 members to fight when called upon. The fact that 
 the camp was full of women and children is evidence 
 of this attitude of the Indians, and the writers who 
 have said that there were fewer than the ordinary 
 number of non-combatants in the camp of a hunting- 
 party are in error. When the Indians left the agencies 
 to join Sitting Bull, they took their families with them. 
 They expected and desired to keep away from the 
 soldiery. Of course, when the number of the people 
 who had joined Sitting Bull had grown so great, the 
 [131] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 medicine chief became less anxious to avoid the gage 
 of battle. He felt strong in numbers, and the war- 
 chiefs had a profound sense of their ability to give a 
 good account of themselves against any body of troops 
 that might be sent against them. 
 
 They had been in camp on the Greasy Grass for 
 some days. They had met and administered a sharp 
 check to Crook on the Rosebud during the previous 
 week. They had had a brush with a party sent out 
 by Crook, under command of Lieutenant Sibley, 
 which was accompanied by John F. Finnerty of the 
 Chicago "Times," and the detachment had narrowly 
 escaped annihilation. They were rich in provisions, 
 for the country was full of buffalo, and they had 
 plenty of ammunition. Their condition was ideal for 
 the Indian of that or any other day. 
 
 The great camp w^as given up to rejoicing. Every 
 night there were dances, — social affairs according to 
 Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull, — but it is not to be doubted 
 that the war-dance figured on the programme. Before 
 they met with Crook they had halted for a sun-dance 
 and the sun-dance lodge had been found by Custer; 
 in it was hanging the scalp of a white man that had 
 been forgotten, or left in defiance of any troops that 
 might happen along. 
 
 Hunting-parties kept coming and going in the di- 
 rection of the Big Horn Mountains. The women and 
 children covered the prairie hunting for tipsina (In- 
 dian turnips), and the camp was teeming with the life 
 of a great Indian village, — the largest that had con- 
 gregated in freedom in several years, in that country 
 at least. 
 
 In the councils was the flower of the hostiles of the 
 [ 132 ] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 Sioux nation. They may be called hostiles for pur- 
 poses of identification, as they were designated that 
 way in the official reports, though they were dubbed 
 that before any overt acts had been committed. Sit- 
 ting Bull was the principal chief of the party, which 
 was remarkable from the fact that he was not a war- 
 chief. He had a great reputation on account of his 
 medicine, and the people at the agencies had come 
 to believe that his medicine was invincible because 
 he remained off the reservation. This reputation at- 
 tracted to his camp hundreds of people who had no 
 other desire than to hunt the buffalo. With his bands 
 they thought the hunting might be safely undertaken, 
 and with the certainty of success. In order to ensure 
 themselves a welcome with him, they were in the 
 habit of taking presents to Sitting Bull, and he used 
 these presents to great advantage in maintaining his 
 popularity with the chiefs. He made medicine con- 
 tinually, and had been prophesying for some time 
 that the Sioux would inflict a great defeat on the whites 
 somewhere on or near the Big Horn rivers. 
 
 Gall, of the Hunkpapas, was the principal of the 
 war-chiefs, though Crow King, of the same band, was 
 highly regarded by his people. Gall was in the prime 
 of life, brave as a lion, strong in council and a natural 
 leader of men. Later on, both of these chiefs had 
 nothing but contempt for Sitting Bull. I know not 
 how it was then, but they were probably afraid of 
 his medicine and content to leave him alone. Crazy 
 Horse, a fierce and warlike man, was an Oglala Sioux 
 who had been affiliated with the Northern Cheyennes 
 for many years, and had one of their women as a wife. 
 He was killed, bayoneted by a soldier, while resisting 
 [ 133] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 being put in the guardhouse the next year, at Camp 
 Robinson, Nebraska. The Minniconjous were under 
 the leadership of Lame Deer, who was killed on Lame 
 Deer Creek, Montana, some time later, in a fight with 
 the soldiers under General Miles. He was succeeded 
 by Hump, who was also a prominent figure in the 
 camp on the Little Big Horn. Big Road was the chief 
 man of the Oglalas in the camp. Black Moon of the 
 Hunkpapas, He Dog of the Oglalas, and Two Moon 
 of the Cheyennes were all notable in council and in 
 the field. They spoke for and led a fighting force, in- 
 cluding boys above fourteen years of age, that was not 
 less than twenty-five hundred strong. The distribu- 
 tion of the bands after the fight, their straggling return 
 to the agencies, and their method of surrendering in 
 small parties, made it difficult to tell how many people 
 were in the camp on the Little Big Horn. The Indians 
 themselves, even Gall, who was very intelligent and 
 truthful, could not tell how many warriors there were. 
 The fact that they numbered twice as many as Custer 
 expected to find, taking his outside figures, shows 
 how well they had hidden their strength from the 
 white and red scouts. It has frequently been said that 
 there were many white men in the camp. This is not 
 true. The Sioux were fought as Indians. If they had 
 been handled as white men are handled in battle, the 
 opposing forces aligned for the fight, the outcome 
 would have been different. 
 
 With the chiefs who dominated in the hostile camp 
 at that time I had afterwards a long and — except 
 in the case of Sitting Bull — a friendly and rather 
 intimate acquaintance. Gall and Crow King, intel- 
 ligent men who saw that the day of the Indian was 
 [ 134 ] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 past, retained the confidence of their people in peace 
 as they had in war, and they, with some of the others, 
 did much to bring the bands under their influence to 
 a realizing sense of the necessity for accommodating 
 themselves to the ways of the whites. From these men 
 and many others of less prominence I had the story of 
 the Custer battle and the disposition of their people. 
 Therefore I tell the story of the affair as it undoubt- 
 edly took place, allowing no leeway for the Indian's 
 ignorance of time and distance, and correcting by the 
 competent evidence of such oflScers as were present, 
 with whom I afterwards lived in the close companion- 
 ship of an agency located next door to a military post, 
 the errors incidental to the Indian relation. A single 
 relation is not relied upon. It could not be, as is shown 
 in the story of Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull, who is one of 
 the most intelligent women of her nation and very 
 truthful. She makes obvious errors in time and dis- 
 tance. But the story of the battle and the events 
 preceding it have been told me by so many tongues, 
 and under such widely different circumstances, that I 
 glean the facts from a wide field of fancy and personal 
 exploits. As to the process of events on the 25th of 
 June, 1876, the disposition of the forces and the actual 
 fighting. Gall and other chiefs told the story to me 
 with great attention to detail. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 {Continued) 
 
 Describing the Battle Array of the Indians and how Custer was over- 
 whelmed by Numbers. 
 
 THE Indian village was strung along the west bank 
 of the Little Big Horn for a distance of between 
 three and four miles, reckoning from the camp 
 of the Blackfeet Sioux at the upper end of the village, 
 where Reno made his attack, to the outermost tepees 
 of the Cheyennes, extending to a point just opposite to, 
 or perhaps a little below, the hill upon which Custer 
 made his stand. That the camp was not pitched in 
 accordance with the tribal custom when on the war- 
 path or in a country in which an attack might be an- 
 ticipated, was evidenced by the fact that the village had 
 been laid out without regard to the rule which gave the 
 Hunkpapas their hereditary privilege of camping on 
 the outer edge and holding the place giving access to 
 the village. The Blackfeet band, which was not nu- 
 merously represented, had, as I have said, the upper 
 end of the village. Next below them the Hunkpapas 
 were located, and they were in great strength. Mrs. 
 Spotted Horn Bull said there were four hundred 
 lodges of them, but in this she was obviously mistaken. 
 Next them were the Minniconjous ; then the Oglalas ; 
 then, some distance back from the river, the Brules ; 
 the Sans Arcs camped just below on the river, and the 
 [ 136] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 Cheyennes held the place at the lower end of the 
 encampment. Out to the west and southwest an im- 
 mense herd of ponies grazed, for the hostiles were well 
 mounted then. The river could be forded at both the 
 upper and lower ends of the camp, and was not diffi- 
 cult at any other point except that the banks were soft 
 and not easily scaled. A dismounted man might cross 
 in many places. After the commencement of the fight, 
 Gall followed Reno across at the upper end of the vil- 
 lage. Crazy Horse with the Cheyennes and most of 
 the Sioux forded below. The women crossed where 
 they pleased, and took a hand while the battle was in 
 progress by stampeding the horses. 
 
 The morning of the battle the Indians knew where 
 Custer was and what his strength was. They knew 
 that there was only one column within striking dis- 
 tance, and that they had the soldiers greatly out- 
 numbered ; and strong in numbers, and with the as- 
 surance given them by Sitting Bull, they prepared 
 themselves to meet the attack. It had been decided 
 the previous night that, if the troops attacked the vil- 
 lage, the Indians would fight, but that they would not 
 go far from their camp to intercept the soldiers. There 
 was much excitement in camp on the morning of the 
 beautiful day when Custer led his men into the jaws 
 of death, and every preparation for a hurried flitting 
 had been made by the women in case the fight had 
 gone against the Indians. No tepees were struck, 
 nor were the ponies, other than those used as mounts 
 by the Indians, brought in; but the camp equipage 
 had been bundled up, a precaution indicating some 
 fear of the result ; this, however, would be done by 
 the women in the face of any important event, even 
 [137] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 though the men were quite indifferent in their confi- 
 dence. 
 
 The location of the Hunkpapa band, with the few 
 Blackfeet tepees at that end of the village which lay 
 up the river, was due to the fact that Gall assumed 
 that if an attack was made it would be at that point. 
 The chief would choose for himself the most exposed 
 place. But when the Sioux first saw the column ad- 
 vancing, it was evident to them that Custer intended 
 striking the lower end of the village. They were ig- 
 norant of the fact that a considerable portion of the 
 command had been detached, and that Custer had 
 only five troops with him on the ridge. The Indians 
 have always maintained that they were ignorant of the 
 approach of Reno until he was within so short a dis- 
 tance that, if he had rushed his troops into the upper 
 end of the village, he could not have failed of throwing 
 the encampment into disorder and doing much dam- 
 age before he could have been repulsed. This state- 
 ment is in contravention of the theory of the military 
 authorities, — or some of them, — but it is undoubt- 
 edly true. There was no organized opposition to 
 Reno's advance until he was so close that he might 
 have been among the tepees had he charged as or- 
 dered by Custer. Reno was under cover from the 
 time he left Custer until after he had crossed the river, 
 and the great mass of the Indians were congregated 
 at the lower end of the village near the Cheyenne 
 camp, where they expected the approaching column 
 to attack. 
 
 Soon after detaching Reno's battalion, Custer 
 reached the eastern end of the long, high ridge, which 
 was in full view of the Indians for a distance of quite 
 [ 138] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 six miles. When Reno crossed the Little Big Horn 
 and formed on the side of the river occupied by the 
 Indian encampment, he was nearly two miles from 
 the nearest tepees. His course lay straight across the 
 bottom, and was protected from the sight of the people 
 in the village by the fringe of timber just outside the 
 Blackfeet tepees. He advanced without hindrance 
 and with some speed to the timber, or very close to it, 
 without seeing any considerable number of Indians. 
 
 Some straggling Indians reconnoitring the out- 
 skirts of the village had seen Reno's column and sig- 
 naled the camp that soldiers were approaching. The 
 Indians of the main camp supposed that the signs 
 made that soldiers were coming had reference to the 
 Custer column, which the warriors at the lower end 
 of the camp had been watching for some time, and no 
 attention was paid to this signaling until some young 
 men rode into the village and announced the approach 
 of another body of troops. When the position was 
 made clear, and a body of warriors had ridden pell- 
 mell through the camp from the lower end of the vil- 
 lage, a distance of fully three miles, Reno had halted 
 at the low bench bordering a second elevation of the 
 valley, dismounted his command, and begun firing at 
 the scattered Indians. The rattling of bullets through 
 the tepee poles of the Hunkpapa and Blackfeet was 
 the first warning the Indians really had of Reno's 
 approach. That was the psychological moment. If 
 Reno had charged the village then he might have de- 
 stroyed a considerable portion of it. There was little 
 hindrance to his advance, but he sat supine until the 
 Indians led by Gall appeared before him in consider- 
 able force. The Ree scouts held the left of the Reno 
 [139] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 command. At them Gall delivered a charge, and they 
 turned and fled, not stopping altogether until they 
 were comfortably quartered at the supply camp on the 
 Yellowstone, fully one hundred miles from the battle- 
 field. Reno moved his command over to the right, 
 abandoning the forward movement, took a position in 
 a fringe of timber, and waited — for what ? 
 
 If Reno had known it, his sudden attack had struck 
 something very like terror to the people in the village, 
 particularly the upper end of the camp; and by the 
 same token, his first shots, ineffective as they were, 
 riddled the tepee poles of one of the lodges of the 
 great man of the camp and eliminated him as a factor 
 in the day's proceedings. For a long time after the 
 fight it was supposed that Sitting Bull had had some 
 part in directing it or giving the fighting men the 
 moral support of his presence. As a matter of fact 
 Sitting Bull headed a stampede, which might have 
 become very general if Reno had followed up his 
 advantage. 
 
 Sitting Bull had two tepees, containing his family 
 and effects, in the Hunkpapa camp. All the previous 
 evening he had been making medicine and had suc- 
 ceeded in convincing the war-chiefs and warriors that 
 they were due to win a great fight, and he was in 
 great feather the previous night. That morning, when 
 the troops were found to be approaching, Sitting Bull 
 betook himself to his tepee. He had with him two 
 wives and several children and a great deal of house- 
 hold wealth for a nomad — for he had been in con- 
 stant receipt of presents for many months from the 
 people coming from the several Sioux agencies to join 
 him. These household impedimenta were evidence of 
 [ 140 ] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 his state, but could be discarded in case of a sudden 
 flight. 
 
 I have contended always that Sitting Bull was a 
 physical coward. I know it from personal knowledge, 
 also from various incidents related of him, and from 
 the attitude of contempt held toward him by the war- 
 chiefs. But his medicine was great. 
 
 That morning he had informed the people that he 
 would remain in his camp and make medicine. There 
 were very few, if any, men in that portion of the camp 
 with him when Reno's bullets rattled through the 
 tepee poles. The surprise created a panic in the heart, 
 never very valorous, of Sitting Bull. He explained 
 afterwards that his capture would mean the loss of 
 his medicine to the Sioux, and he did not want to 
 take any chances when the soldiers rushed into the 
 camp, as he expected they would when the firing be- 
 gan. His ponies were close at hand, and the medicine 
 man got his women and children together and made 
 straight for the hills to the southwest. In the hurry of 
 the flitting one of his twin boys was lost, but that did 
 not halt the doughty medicine-maker. He heard be- 
 hind him the practically continuous gunfire, and kept 
 on going. He marched for eight or ten miles without 
 stopping, and was still going when couriers overtook 
 him and announced the annihilation of the Custer 
 command. It was late in the afternoon before he re- 
 turned to the village, and he then arrogantly claimed 
 all the honor for the victory gained, accounting for his 
 absence from the field during the engagement with the 
 troops by announcing that he had been in the hills 
 overlooking the battle-field, engaged in propitiating 
 the evil spirits and invoking the gods of war ; and, as 
 [141] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 I was told by Gall and other prominent chiefs of the 
 Sioux, a majority of these over-credulous people ac- 
 tually believed him, and those lacking sufficient faith 
 to accept his statements absolutely, had no desire to 
 investigate or license to question his assertions. 
 
 While Sitting Bull was leaving the camp. Gall was 
 collecting a force to attack Reno. Warriors were rid- 
 ing up through the camp ; and the women were making 
 all preparations to leave. The utmost confusion pre- 
 vailed. Reno, with his troops dismounted in the fringe 
 of timber, suffered no injury at the hands of the In- 
 dians, or practically none. How long he remained 
 there is a question. The Indians were not clear about 
 it at all, and the military not very much clearer. Reno 
 seems to have been inspired to get a position back 
 across the river by the fact that a trooper was shot 
 close beside him. It does not appear that he ordered 
 a retreat then, but simply headed one and made with 
 all speed for the Little Big Horn, which he fortunately 
 struck in a fordable place. Of this movement more 
 hereafter will be said, but the helter-skelter nature of 
 it was revealed in a single incident. 
 
 The trooper who had been shot close to where Reno 
 was standing was mortally hurt. Dr. Porter, a con- 
 tract surgeon, went to the assistance of the man. He 
 saw that the wound must result fatally, and he gave 
 the man a narcotic and made him as comfortable as 
 possible. He had paid no attention to what was going 
 on around him, and when he looked up from the shel- 
 tered place where the man was lying, the troops were 
 gone and the doctor saw mounted Indians rushing 
 past him after the fleeing troops. Porter was not very 
 well mounted, as he thought, having left his own horse 
 [ 142] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 at the supply-camp, and having been given a mount 
 from among the condemned cavalry horses, by the 
 quartermaster. He mounted his horse, drove the 
 spurs into the animal, lay low on his neck, dashed like 
 mad through Indians and troopers, reaching the river 
 with the first of the outfit, and got safely across. Of 
 the three doctors with the command Porter was the 
 only one not killed. 
 
 This command made a desperate ride at the bluff 
 on the east side of the river and attained its summit 
 through a ravine. 
 
 Soon after reaching a position on the hill, Reno was 
 joined by Benteen, whose detour to the southwest had 
 been ineffective and who had not yet been under fire. 
 Some officers wanted to take their troops out to where 
 firing was heard, and where Custer was undoubtedly 
 engaged, but Reno held the hill. It may have been 
 too late when Benteen came up to do Custer any good, 
 for the last order sent by Custer, written by his adju- 
 tant, Lieutenant Cook, directed Benteen to bring up 
 the packs at once. Custer had undoubtedly seen the 
 greater portion of the village when he issued the order. 
 He sent it to Benteen, thinking that he still had an 
 independent command, and that Reno was attack- 
 ing the upper end of the village. Cook wrote : " Ben- 
 teen, come on. Big Village. Be quick. Bring packs. 
 P. S. Bring packs." The insistence of the order to 
 bring packs was caused by the necessity for having 
 the ammunition-mules. Moreover Custer had seen 
 enough of the village to know that he would need Ben- 
 teen's force. But Benteen had joined Reno. If both 
 forces had been moved out — but that is speculation 
 and to be avoided. The military experts have been all 
 [143] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 over that field. As it was, the larger half of the entire 
 regiment remained on the hill, by no means out of 
 danger, but certainly not where Custer expected it 
 would be, while the commanding oflScer and the 
 smaller moiety of the command were being, or had 
 been, done to death. 
 
 When Reno left the column with his battalion and 
 advanced to the crossing of the river, Custer went on 
 along the trail for a short distance, then turned 
 slightly to the right and struck the ridge. What he 
 saw or heard there doubtless convinced him that he 
 should proceed on and attack the village lower down. 
 That he intended from the beginning of this march 
 along the ridge to go directly to the lower end of the 
 village, is demonstrated by the fact that he never 
 swerved from this course. His movements and the 
 obstacles he encountered up to the end are known 
 only on the relation of the Indians who were opposing 
 him. The things that were done on the battle-field, 
 after the fight, made the affair a delicate subject for 
 the Indians to discuss. They talked to me more freely 
 and frequently than to any other white man whom I 
 know, but it was not easy to hold them to a description 
 of what transpired. For many years they had the im- 
 pression that they were being examined for the pur- 
 pose of singling out men for punishment. Gall, who 
 was not concerned in the atrocities that made the 
 battle-field the horror that it was, was diflSdent in 
 talking of the matter. In spite of his self-possession 
 and courage, he was shy of the subject, except in talk- 
 ing of the affair broadly. He and the other men of his 
 class knew that the amnesty promised at their sur- 
 rendering in small parties covered all the events of 
 [ 144] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 the battle, but they did not go into details in talking 
 of the affair. It is probable that a man like Gall, act- 
 ing under the tremendous excitement into which an 
 Indian would certainly work himself during a fight, 
 would not be observing the movements of the enemy 
 in the hurry of getting his warriors into position to 
 intercept the advancing column. The last march and 
 stand of Custer is therefore gathered from many 
 sources and was told piecemeal. 
 
 When the general saw the village first, he saw only a 
 part of it. Even before he had his first view of it. Iron 
 Cedar had carried the word to Gall, who was pursu- 
 ing Reno, that the larger force was approaching the 
 lower end of the village and he was needed there. It 
 was about this time that Custer's last order was issued 
 and given to a trumpeter to be carried to Benteen. 
 This probably occurred at about one o'clock — reck- 
 oning with the Indian's idea of time and comparing it 
 with the statement that the message reached Benteen 
 after he joined Reno at 2.30. The Indians with Gall 
 knew nothing of Benteen's command. 
 
 The position of Custer was not a commanding one. 
 He was on the second ridge from the river ; closer to 
 the stream there was another ridge, somewhat lower, 
 broken in spots, but interfering with a full view of the 
 village. Custer must have been convinced that the 
 village was clustered well around that portion which 
 he saw, the lower end, and that Reno would make 
 good his order to charge and thus throw the village 
 into confusion ; but he must have seen that no attempt 
 was yet being made by the Indians to get away, and 
 that out to the south and west the herd of ponies 
 grazed undisturbed. 
 
 [ 145 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 It was soon after Custer had left Reno that the 
 Indians first caught sight of his column. He struck 
 the ridge at a distance of about six miles from the 
 lower end of the village, and was never out of sight of 
 the Indians during the whole of the march to the end. 
 Gall had all of his warriors massed at the lower end 
 of the village, near the Cheyenne camp. The entire 
 camp was engaged in watching the advance. Custer 
 probably took the ridge as a means of announcing 
 his coming and to divert attention from the attack 
 of Reno. I have frequently traveled over the trail of 
 Custer's march from the mouth of the Rosebud to 
 the Little Big Horn battle-field, and am quite familiar 
 with the country through which it passes, the distance 
 being about one hundred miles, and have gone over 
 the battle-field many times. The broken ground be- 
 tween the ridge and the river hid, as I have said, a 
 great portion of the village. While the general and his 
 squadron were as obvious to the Indians as though 
 their band was in the lead playing Garryowen, — the 
 battle-song of the Seventh Cavalry, — Reno's ap- 
 proach was entirely hidden. He could be discovered 
 only when he was close enough to attack, and it is 
 probably quite true that, as Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull 
 says in her narration, the first knowledge the Indians 
 had of the approach of Reno was when his rifle-shots 
 rattled through the tepee poles of the Blackfeet. This 
 exhibition of his column to the gaze of the Indians 
 may have been an afterthought on the part of Gen- 
 eral Custer, for it does not appear that he expected 
 Reno to strike the village as soon as he did. He proba- 
 bly meant, when he sent word to Reno to charge the 
 village and the whole outfit would support him, that 
 [146] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 he would strike the other end at the same time. Im- 
 mediately after sending the order he appeared on 
 the ridge, expecting that Reno would ride into and 
 through the practically unprotected upper end of the 
 encampment, throwing the Indians into a panic, 
 which would permit him to cross and attack from the 
 lower end. 
 
 Gall divined what the plan was instantly when Reno 
 began firing, before he was within striking distance. 
 The Indians' ponies were in the best condition, and 
 Gall took a considerable number of warriors through 
 the village to the upper end, when word had been 
 brought to him of the approach of another enemy. 
 Crazy Horse and the great mass of the Indians were 
 left near the Cheyenne camp. When Gall reached 
 the upper end of the village, Reno had come to a pause. 
 The few Indians who had opposed had practically 
 stopped him. Gall's people turned his left flank, and 
 instead of closing up and charging, Reno fell back to 
 the fringe of timber, where he was practically out of 
 the way of harm, and stood still. Gall told me that 
 he was in a hurry to get back to the lower ford, but 
 saw no way of pressing the fighting with Reno, con- 
 sidering his force, and that he would have been com- 
 pelled to send for a larger force if Reno had not played 
 his cards for him by starting the retreat to the river. 
 Gall turned this retreat into a rout, doing what execu- 
 tion he could, and the cavalry went across the river 
 under a fire that killed many without harming the 
 enemy. Lieutenant Mcintosh was killed at some 
 distance from the river, in the retreat; Lieutenant 
 Hodgson, who was wounded while crossing the river, 
 saved himself from death at the time by clinging to 
 [147] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 the stirrup of a trooper, and reached shore only to be 
 killed by an Indian bullet. Dr. De Wolf was killed 
 while trying to climb a bluff near the river. Twenty- 
 nine enlisted men were killed. No sooner was Reno's 
 command driven across the river than Gall practically 
 withdrew all of his people and rode at speed down 
 through the village again. Some Indians remained to 
 harass stragglers from the Reno command, but the 
 principal body withdrew at once and spread the news 
 through the village that the soldiers attacking at the 
 upper end had all been killed. This is credited by 
 some of the people to this day, who believe that Reno's 
 command, holding the hill that night and the next 
 day, was altogether another body of troops. 
 
 Gall said that when he reached the lower end of 
 the village Custer was still some distance off ; that his 
 force was advancing irregularly, but the men did not 
 straggle far. Perhaps Custer had come to understand 
 the situation, — that Reno had been repulsed or had 
 retreated, — in which event he undoubtedly looked 
 for support from him from the rear. Possibly he be- 
 lieved at this time that Reno had made good his in- 
 structions and was charging the other end of the vil- 
 lage. There is no doubt that he had observed much 
 confusion in that part of the village into which he had 
 been able to look. Assuredly he had heard the firing 
 and had been speculating on the outcome. Whatever 
 his attitude of mind, he did not waver in his advance. 
 While his column was still silhouetted against the sky- 
 line of the ridge. Crazy Horse with the Cheyennes 
 crossed the river, and, under cover of the inner ridge, 
 made their way into the ravine to the north and west 
 of the ridge upon which Custer was advancing. Gall 
 [148] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 threw many of his people across the river, the Hunk- 
 papas, Minniconjous, Oglalas, Sans Arcs, and Brules 
 crossing in a swarm, some being sheltered from the 
 sight of Custer by the lower ridge, others making their 
 way around the ravine. They were all hidden from 
 the view of the command. Holding steadily to what 
 appeared to be his original plan of attack, Custer 
 swung his troops to the left from the ridge, and turned 
 down to the river. As the men rode down into the 
 bottom, the Indians saw that they were apprehensive, 
 but they did not falter and they were well down to the 
 stream before the Sioux showed themselves on that 
 shore. Of course, the lower end of the village had been 
 in sight occasionally for some time, but it was unlikely 
 that Custer could have known that the Indians had 
 crossed the river to meet him. 
 
 With the first shot that was fired the truth undoubt- 
 edly dawned upon Custer and his people that they had 
 met a formidable force. The Indians rose up in front 
 of them, and in very considerable numbers, and went 
 directly to the attack. The soldiers retreated in- 
 stantly ; the ridge behind and to the right of the troops 
 — the extension of the elevation they had left to go 
 into the bottoms — might afford the men a chance to 
 defend themselves. The order to fall back was evi- 
 dently given without hesitation, though it was appa- 
 rent to the Indians that Custer was surprised, or as 
 nearly taken by surprise as so alert an officer could be 
 in going into that exposed position. The movement 
 to the rear was executed with such precipitation as 
 would be likely in a body confronted by an enemy 
 showing great strength. 
 
 It may be as well to say here, that the military ex- 
 [ 149 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 perts who have builded a strategical structure on 
 the foundation afforded by the graves that mark the 
 Custer battle-field, are wrong in their deductions 
 when they give with elaboration the movements or- 
 dered by Custer after the first attack. There was 
 no time for orders. Gall, Crow King, Black Moon, 
 Crow, Bear's Cap, No Neck, and Kill Eagle — all 
 of whom were in positions to see the entire field cov- 
 ered by Custer's force, and who corroborated each 
 other unboastingly — have told me that from the time 
 of the first attack until the last man of Custer's com- 
 mand died on the battle-field, not more time elapsed 
 than would be necessary to walk from the spot where 
 the conversation was held — at the Standing Rock 
 agency office — to Antelope Creek, a mile distant. 
 It might have been a half-hour altogether. Within 
 that period all the defense possible was made, inclu- 
 ding the movement from the bottom to the height, 
 which was much less than a mile. 
 
 In ordering the troops to fall back Custer did that 
 which Gall had anticipated. While a considerable 
 body of Indians followed and harassed the men in 
 this movement, another even larger body was sent 
 around the ravine to the rear of the position aimed at 
 by Custer; and when the cavalrymen had attained 
 the position from which the commander evidently 
 thought he might hold the Indians, in the ultimate 
 hope of succor from Reno or Ben teen, the elevation 
 was surrounded to the west and north, while a con- 
 siderable mass of the Sioux were advancing on what 
 might be called the front of Custer's position. 
 
 In this retreat from the river, which has not been 
 figured upon by the military writers, except in denial, 
 [ 150 1 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 a dozen or more troopers were killed; their bodies 
 were found at intervals along the line of the backward 
 movement, as indicated by the marble slabs which 
 mark the spot where each dead trooper was foimd. 
 
 When Custer reached the elevation, Keogh's and 
 Calhoun's troops were halted and dismounted by 
 command, or by the necessities of the action, and the 
 horses left in the ravine. This gave these troops the 
 left of the force when Custer had proceeded along 
 the ridge and turned to face the Indians in sight on 
 the ground covered in the retreat. Between Custer 
 and Keogh, Smith's troop was extended in skirmish 
 formation, a fact evidenced by the disposition of the 
 bodies. Captain Tom Custer's and Captain Yates's 
 troops, who fell in the group with General Custer, 
 were farther along toward where the ridge ran out in 
 a declivity which could not be easily negotiated by 
 horsemen, and which made the command compara- 
 tively safe from attack from that direction. This, 
 then, was the position at the finish. The line was not 
 a lengthy one, and the men were thickest at about 
 the point where Custer fell. While the troops were 
 getting into this position, they were fighting continu- 
 ously, but the onslaught of the Indians did not take on 
 its deathly and irresistible form until Gall, in carry- 
 ing his men around the ravine to the north and east 
 of the position, struck the cavalry horses — probably 
 those held by the men of Keogh's and Calhoun's com- 
 mands. The shouting and shooting incident to the 
 stampeding of the horses was the signal for the attack 
 on the troops from three sides of the ridge. 
 
 The Indians rose up out of the ravine and rode at 
 the devoted column. At this time Custer was well 
 [151] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 out to the right of the command. In his death he was 
 surrounded by three people of his house, and two 
 relations by marriage. When he died, and at what 
 period of the fight, is not known. Whether or not he 
 saw his brother, Captain Tom Custer, die first will 
 never be known. He might have known that his 
 brother-in-law. Lieutenant Calhoun, had been killed 
 at once in Gall's wild charge after the horses were 
 stampeded. But the General, Tom and Boston, his 
 brothers, "Artie Ried," his nephew. Captain Yates, 
 Lieutenant Cook, his adjutant. Captain Lord, of the 
 medical corps. Lieutenant Reilly, Kellogg, of the 
 "New York Herald," and many others, died very 
 close together. 
 
 The Indians made no special attack on Custer or 
 the people with him ; they had not identified the gen- 
 eral. They knew him as Long Hair, this being the 
 distinguishing personal mark of the man in the eyes 
 of the Sioux. At the time of the battle he wore his hair 
 short, and there was nothing about him to distinguish 
 him from the other oflScers, so far as the Indians were 
 concerned. 
 
 The stand of the troopers was of the briefest dura- 
 tion. When Gall gave the signal, the Indians rose 
 up out of the ravines: the Cheyennes, led by Crazy 
 Horse, the Hunkpapas, the Blackfeet, — the latter few 
 in numbers, — the Minniconjous, with Lame Deer 
 and Hump in the van, the Oglalas, with Big Road, 
 the Sans Arcs and the Brules ; they came straight 
 at the ridge, riding fiercely and swiftly, stayed by 
 nothing, a red tide of death; and almost without 
 pause they rode over the field, and the desperate 
 shooting of the white men did not halt them for a mo- 
 [ 152] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 ment. When the tide had passed, Custer and his men 
 were reckoned with the dead. There was neither time 
 nor opportunity for defense; personal gallantry and 
 the desperate occasion may have given birth to heroes 
 in that moment, but they died in the instant of their 
 birth, and Custer's last stand was a bloody page in 
 history. 
 
 Out to the north and east three men had sought 
 safety only to be shot down. The rest of the command, 
 with the exception of Sergeant Butler, — whose body 
 was found at some distance over toward Reno Hill, 
 — died as they stood. Butler may have been engaged 
 in trying to communicate with Reno, or he may have 
 been trying to get through the line of red braves. 
 About his body were many empty cartridge-shells, 
 showing that he made a gallant defense at the last. 
 
 The Indians participating in that affair have al- 
 ways asserted, and still maintain with decided posi- 
 tiveness, that the fight was of short duration and the 
 Indian loss insignificant ; that the attack of the over- 
 whelming number of Indians — enthused by their 
 easy victory over Reno — was of such whirlwind force 
 that the small groups of soldiers did not check the 
 rush of their wild charge. The Indians claim that 
 many of the soldiers were killed without being shot, 
 some who were mounted being pulled off their horses 
 and clubbed to death with stone-headed war-clubs, 
 which most of the Indians carried in addition to their 
 Winchesters. They also claim that the soldiers might 
 as well have had their pockets full of stones to throw 
 at the Indians in defending themselves, as the carbines 
 and revolvers with which they were armed, they having 
 no opportunity to use their firearms after the first vol- 
 [153] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 ley ; and this statement of the Indians would appear 
 to be borne out, in part at least, by the fact that some 
 of the dead, when found by the burial detachment, 
 were without gunshot wounds, and others with only 
 slight flesh wounds, but all with their skulls broken 
 in by blows inflicted with some blunt instrument. 
 
 Gall told me that he would have gone at once to the 
 attack of Reno when the fight on Custer Hill was over, 
 if he could have controlled his warriors. As well try 
 to stem the flood of the mighty Mississippi, he said, 
 as to hold the wildly excited hundreds who dashed 
 about on the ridge among the bodies of the slain. 
 Some scores of horses that had lately been ridden by 
 the white men, the most valuable booty for an Indian, 
 were galloping about the country. These were spoil 
 for the warriors, and they turned their attention at 
 once to their capture. As the men left the field, the 
 women and boys came on. The women carried stone 
 clubs, little hatchets and knives ; the Sioux had no tom- 
 ahawks. The ferocity with which they attacked the 
 bodies of the dead makes a horrid detail of the aft'air 
 that has been told more than once. Even the Indian 
 boys rode or walked about over the field, shooting into 
 the bodies of the slain — which would account for the 
 firing heard continuously by the soldiers on Reno Hill 
 long after all resistance had ceased on the part of 
 Custer's people. The head men sought for Custer's 
 body. They knew him only by his long hair, and they 
 could find no body that might possibly be identified 
 in that way. 
 
 Custer wore his campaign dress of buckskin, and 
 the usual insignia of his rank were missing. They 
 found a man dressed in buckskin, and in the pockets 
 [154] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 of the blouse they found parchment maps, from which 
 they concluded that the body was that of the officer in 
 command ; and their respect for the chief — always 
 marked with the Sioux — impelled them to hold the 
 body inviolate. The body was that of Custer, and it 
 was not mutilated. The Indians insisted, in conver- 
 sation with me, that many of the bodies were not 
 mutilated ; that the wounds found were inflicted in the 
 heat of battle. But they all knew that Custer and 
 Keogh escaped the general fate of the fallen. Keogh 
 escaped mutilation because he wore about his neck an 
 Agnus Dei, an emblem of faith frequently worn by 
 Catholics. In stripping the body the Indians found the 
 Agnus Dei, and, regarding it as powerful medicine, 
 they refrained from desecrating the body of the man 
 who wore it. The uniforms were all stripped from the 
 soldiers, and besides the booty taken in the form of 
 arms and clothing, much money was got. The soldiers 
 had been paid just before starting on the fatal expedi- 
 tion, and all, or nearly all, had money. Many of the 
 Indians did not know the value of the currency, but 
 it was soon appropriated by those who knew its pur- 
 chasing power. 
 
 As soon as possible after the fight. Gall led his peo- 
 ple away from the field and rode up the river to the 
 position which had been held in absolute safety by 
 Reno, while Custer's command was being wiped out 
 of existence. I have been assured by many credible 
 people among the Sioux that for at least an hour there 
 was not an Indian left in front of Reno's position ; 
 that he might have marched out uninterrupted. 
 
 Ben teen joined Reno about or just about 2.30, no 
 doubt. The military writers have covered the events 
 [ 155 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 that took place within Reno's lines that afternoon, 
 and the Indians as a whole could know nothing of 
 what was going on there for some time, for they with- 
 drew to go after what they considered bigger game, 
 the cavalry horses. Gall seemed to have no appre- 
 hension of a renewal of the attack on the upper end 
 of the village. He had no very well-defined idea what 
 had become of the force he had repulsed and driven 
 across the Little Big Horn, except that it was on the 
 hill. He knew positively that no part of this force had 
 joined the troops he attacked on the ridge. He might 
 have anticipated that this force would advance to the 
 attack after the Custer command had been annihi- 
 lated. In any event, he was anxious to get his people 
 up to the attack and meet the other command. He 
 and the other Indians knew that the command which 
 had been repulsed and driven to the hill had been 
 badly whipped; the Indians in the village believed 
 that the troops had been destroyed utterly. Gall hur- 
 ried, with all the men he could control, from the Cus- 
 ter field of carnage to finish his awful work of destruc- 
 tion, believing that the annihilation of the troops on 
 Reno Hill would be an easy task. From the time the 
 Indians disappeared from in front of the Reno position 
 until they returned in force, an hour and a half or two 
 hours had elapsed. During that time, or almost all of 
 it, the troops on the hill could hear firing: first the 
 firing incident to the engagement between the Indi- 
 ans and Custer, and later the straggling shooting of the 
 dead by Indians and boys on the field. The officers 
 with Reno were anxious to get out and see what had 
 become of Custer. They were not careful about talk- 
 ing of the necessity for doing something. Captain 
 [ 156] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 Weir and Lieutenant Edgerly of "D" troop, the latter 
 now a brigadier general, had made an attempt to get 
 out nearer to the position they supposed was held by 
 Custer, but they were repulsed. 
 
 Custer's force was destroyed about three o'clock. 
 It was after four when Gall got his warriors started up 
 the river to attack the Reno position, and it was 
 nearly five when Major Reno ordered his force to move 
 down toward the Custer position. They had not gone 
 far when the Sioux came up to the attack. The troops 
 had attained the high bluffs down the river from the 
 original position when the Indians came into collision 
 with them. French's and Weir's troops stood the brunt 
 of the attack ; Godfrey had got into action. They all 
 supposed it was the intention to occupy and control 
 the heights, when they received word to fall back. 
 The main command was already in retreat to the 
 old position. The advanced troops got away with 
 diflSculty and the Indians occupied the heights. Gall, 
 seeing that the troops were wholly on the hill, sent his 
 Indians around to the rear and surrounded the com- 
 mand. All of the high points were occupied by the 
 Indians and the command seemed to be doomed. 
 There were Indians everywhere and they had secured 
 a number of commanding positions from which they 
 might — if they could have been held to the work — 
 have destroyed Reno's force. 
 
 But after seven o'clock the warriors began to leave. 
 They were excited with the bloody work of the after- 
 noon. They wanted to have a part in the carousing 
 that would take place in the village. The event was 
 too big an affair for an Indian to forego his share in the 
 general rejoicing for the mere sake of getting more 
 [157] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 scalps. By dark, only the more persistent of the Sioux 
 were left in the positions they had taken. Reno's out- 
 fit might have moved out without interference, but it 
 might not have found so easily defensible a position 
 after moving. Moreover, there was the doubt as to 
 what had become of Custer. The Indians thought 
 that the white men on the hill knew that the other 
 command had been destroyed. They did not then 
 and do not yet understand why Reno took to the hill 
 in the first place or remained there so long afterwards. 
 Gall said frankly that, if Reno had persisted in his 
 attack upon the upper end of the village in the morn- 
 ing, without dismounting his men, the event might 
 have been different. If his attack, which was sudden, 
 had been persevering, it would have kept the Indians 
 busy trying to hold him in check, and Custer could 
 then have attacked the lower end of the camp with 
 only half the Indians to oppose him ; the village would 
 have been thrown into confusion, and the outcome of 
 the affair doubtful. 
 
 While the troops on the hill lay expecting the worst, 
 not knowing what had become of their commander 
 and ignorant of the strength of the dusky foes with 
 whom they peopled the adjacent heights, the Indians 
 were, as told me by the leaders, holding high carnival 
 in the village. Throughout the length of the encamp- 
 ment fires had been built; each band had its own 
 dance, but the warriors did not remain in their own 
 bands, — they fraternized with others, going from 
 dance to dance, recounting their exploits, and being 
 hailed in proportion to the prominence they had won 
 in the battle. They were drunken with blood and 
 elated beyond any sort of limit. The shouts and 
 [ 158 ] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 whoops of the dancers were carried on the night wind 
 to the men on the hill, and they carried the discom- 
 forting suggestion that on the next night their anni- 
 hilation might give occasion for another orgy. 
 
 The Indians slept no more that night than the white 
 men; there was no council, but the war-chiefs pre- 
 vailed on the warriors to return to the beleaguering of 
 the troops on the hill, and before daylight the Indians 
 were again firing into the position. 
 
 The troops had dug trenches during the night, and 
 the packs and dead horses were utilized for shelter. 
 The Indian fire did very little execution, it appears, 
 and there was little heart in the attack. The troops 
 had been without water, except what they carried 
 with them, up to the morning, and the Indians made 
 it impossible for the men to get their canteens filled. 
 Some few of the soldiers defied the hazard and got 
 some water, but very little. 
 
 Gall had sent out scouts, and the report had been 
 brought in that the walking soldiers were coming. 
 The report spread something very like consternation 
 in the Indian camp, and preparations were made for 
 getting away. The infantry inspired much more awe 
 in the Sioux than the cavalry did, and neither Sitting 
 Bull nor Gall nor any of the war-chiefs were inclined 
 to give battle to the united forces they knew to be in 
 the field. 
 
 About noon the Indians got ready to break camp ; 
 but this was done leisurely, and there were some dif- 
 ferences of opinion as to what should be done about 
 continuing the attack against the force on the hill. 
 The independence of control of the warriors settled 
 the matter, and no demonstration was made in force. 
 [159] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 At one time when the Indians were pressing the com- 
 mand threateningly, Benteen induced Reno to let him 
 make a charge. It was attempted, but the fire of the 
 Indians, from cover, was so heavy that the troops 
 were forced to retreat. Soon after noon the Indians 
 drew off; then, inspired by the spirit of some of the 
 chiefs, they returned and poured a vicious fire into the 
 trenches on the hill. Then they left, and after three 
 o'clock none returned. Two hours before dark the 
 Indians got under way. It was known to them that 
 the fresh troops — Terry with Gibbon's command — 
 would arrive, and the immense herds of ponies could 
 only be moved slowly. They went reluctantly, but by 
 sunset the camp was deserted, the Indians moving off 
 to the west, and the affair on the Little Big Horn was 
 a thing of the past. 
 
 On and about the ridge where Custer made his last 
 stand, two hundred and twelve of the flower of the 
 Seventh Cavalry lay dead and unburied. Altogether 
 two hundred and sixty-five of the original men of the 
 command were killed ; fifty-two were wounded. The 
 Indians lost twenty-two dead and many — how many 
 no man knows — wounded. The dead and wounded 
 were all carried away, with the exception of one In- 
 dian who fell into the hands of Benteen 's men, being 
 killed in an impudent attempt to count a coup on a 
 soldier who had been shot almost within the cavalry's 
 lines. 
 
 And this is the story of the battle of the Little Big 
 Horn. For many moons the story of that day, re- 
 counted by the warriors who had a part in it, bolstered 
 the fading hopes of the Indians, who in scattered and 
 starving bands sought to avoid the inevitable capitu- 
 [ 160 ] 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 lation to the white soldiers, who pursued them from 
 that day in June until the last of them surrendered. 
 For long it kept alive the influence of Sitting Bull. 
 For years after the Indians had laid down their arms 
 it was talked about around the camp-fires of the bands 
 that had nothing left of the old life but the memory of 
 the day when last the power of the Sioux nation was 
 arrayed in its great strength and in successful oppo- 
 sition to the march of the white man. 
 
 On Inauguration Day, March 4, 1905, I was in 
 Washington and viewed the great parade from a po- 
 sition close to that occupied by a squadron of the 
 Seventh Cavalry. When the Indian cadets from Car- 
 lisle marched past the position of the Seventh, the 
 school band struck up the stirring strain of Garry- 
 owen, the tune played by Custer's old band when the 
 Seventh went into battle. Among the Carlisle students 
 were boys whose fathers had been in the forefront of 
 the red swarm that came up out of the ravine and 
 overwhelmed Custer that day in June of the centen- 
 nial year. I thought of Custer's command, of the 
 peaceful country about the Crow agency, and the line 
 of railroad that stands a monument to the indisputable 
 domination of the white man, and I was profoundly 
 impressed by a sense of the fact that the men, red and 
 white, who made history in the days when there was 
 a frontier in this country had given way to another and 
 happier people, living in better and happier times. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 MRS. SPOTTED HORN BULL'S VIEW OF THE 
 CUSTER TRAGEDY 
 
 The Story of the Last Stand of Custer and his Men, as told by the 
 Widow of a Chief of the Hunkpapa Sioux. 
 
 IN the first place Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull was there 
 — which is more than can be said for some of the 
 other ladies and gentlemen who have told of the 
 events of that dreadful day when Custer led his gallant 
 fellows into the jaws of death and worse. She was not 
 then carried on the rolls of the Indian Department as 
 Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull. A more imaginative spon- 
 sor than the Indian Agent had given her the more 
 euphonious and, let us hope, more correctly descrip- 
 tive appellation of Pte-San- Waste- Win. Twenty- 
 eight years ago, when she first came to the agency at 
 Standing Rock, when Spotted Horn Bull, who was 
 killed with Sitting Bull, was still in the land of the liv- 
 ing Dakotas, she was a strikingly good-looking Indian 
 woman, and much esteemed by her neighbors for her 
 intelligence and capacity. She had also the gift of elo- 
 quence, rare in an Indian woman, and a fluency in 
 language and readiness of gesture which placed her 
 high in the esteem of her story-loving tribesmen. 
 
 And many a big man among the Sioux had been 
 
 content to hold his peace when Pte-San- Waste- Win 
 
 raised her voice. Not that the voice was raucous or 
 
 that Beautiful White Cow (the English rendition of 
 
 [162] 
 
AN INDIAN VIEW OF THE CUSTER TRAGEDY 
 
 her name) was a scold. I have heard a story that she 
 on one occasion man-handled a big chief of the Sioux 
 nation who she learned had maligned her, and that 
 the man-handling followed his remark: "Woman, be 
 silent; you have the mouth of a white man." And 
 knowing Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull as I do, I have never 
 doubted the verity of the incident so far as her attack 
 was concerned. 
 
 She is now a sturdy, upstanding woman of sixty to 
 sixty-five years of age, born of the Hunkpapa Sioux, 
 a band that has provided the nation with many of its 
 noted men. She was handsome, according to the In- 
 dian canons of taste, in her youth, and indeed I am not 
 sure that the Indian taste in these matters might not 
 well be accepted by some more advanced peoples. She 
 was married in early youth to Spotted Horn Bull, a chief 
 of his band and a man of prominence as a warrior 
 and adviser, but no orator. She appears to have 
 brought to the family the attributes in which her hus- 
 band was lacking, for she sat in the council of the 
 tribe — and I know of no other Indian woman of her 
 nation who was so signally honored. Her voice was 
 always listened to, for, in addition to her gift of elo- 
 quence, she was a clear thinker, and could make effect- 
 ive the ideas of her silent husband. Since she became 
 a widow, and the Sioux no longer hold councils, her 
 neighbors seek her advice in business matters. She 
 has steadfastly refused to accept Christianity, though 
 she has listened to all the arguments that have been 
 made to her. She elects to cling to the beliefs of her 
 fathers, — a fact that does not at all detract from the 
 esteem in which the missionaries hold her. 
 
 A few months ago I met Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull by 
 [163] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 appointment at my son Harry's trading store, located 
 at Oak Creek, on the Standing Rock Indian reserva- 
 tion. She had come in fifteen miles from her home on 
 the Missouri River, near the mouth of Oak Creek, for 
 the meeting. I was accompanied by a friend, and she 
 greeted us with the effusive welcome of her people — 
 as different as possible in its warmth and volubility 
 from the greeting one not acquainted intimately with 
 the Sioux might expect. She was a striking figure as 
 she stood up to greet us. 
 
 This historian and poetess of the Sioux wore the 
 ordinary costume of a woman of her people, but her 
 gingham dress was of the Campbell plaid, her shawl- 
 blanket of native make, her moccassins neat, her 
 jetty hair falling in two braids on each side of a smil- 
 ing and expressive countenance. She looked a much 
 younger woman than she really was — and by way of 
 demonstrating that she still felt young, she danced a 
 few steps, laughingly declaring that she had met and 
 danced with many prominent people. It was after a 
 substantial supper, to which Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull 
 did full justice, that we sat down in my son's little par- 
 lor and listened to her story of the affair on the little 
 Big Horn. 
 
 I have always deplored the fact that English writers 
 have never been able to render in their native elegance 
 and appositeness the similes used by Indian orators 
 and story-tellers. I now deplore the lack of that same 
 capacity in myself. Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull exhausted 
 the stores of her flowery vocabulary in the relation we 
 listened to. She talked with great fluency, her voice 
 pitched to a sort of breathless stage of excited feel- 
 ing. I remember hearing a young woman declaim the 
 [ 164] 
 
AN INDIAN VIEW OF THE CUSTER TRAGEDY 
 
 Chorus in "Henry V," put on by an American actor- 
 manager a few years ago ; the Sioux story-teller re- 
 minded me of the actress. She illustrated her every 
 sentence in pantomime, and when she feared that she 
 had not pictured the scene her memory brought up, 
 she seized a pencil and paper and drew a sketch of the 
 valley of the Little Big Horn, showing the location of 
 the Indian village on the west bank, the distribution 
 of the bands of the Sioux, the points of attack by Cus- 
 ter and Reno, and the fatal hill, now marked by a 
 monument, where Custer fell. This sketch she used 
 constantly to explain her meaning, and she was per- 
 fectly frank about the occurrences of June 25, 1876, 
 except on one point. She ignored all questions as 
 to the whereabouts of Sitting Bull during the fight. 
 Skillfully avoiding the interrogation, or totally ignor- 
 ing it, she made many excursions into Sioux history of 
 that time ; but Sitting Bull, her kinsman, who skulked 
 in the hills while his people were carrying out the an- 
 nihilation of the troops, she would not speak of. Once, 
 exasperated by the questions of the third party to the 
 hearing, she asked if he was a lawyer, and, being as- 
 sured that he was not, she shook hands with him very 
 solemnly and continued her relation. And this is the 
 tale she told : — 
 
 " My brother. White Eyebrows, had been to a dance. 
 All through the night he had been making glad the 
 hearts of the maidens, for my brother was good to 
 look upon and the women of the Hunkpapa know a 
 good man. All the night he had danced with the other 
 young people. It was not a war dance, but just a 
 merry-making of the younger people. A few days 
 previous, our men had fought with the Crows and 
 [165] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 Shoshones [General Crook's allies] and the enemies 
 of my people had fallen as leaves when they turn yel- 
 low. We were not harmed, and there was no mourn- 
 ing in the village of the Sioux on the plateau beside 
 the Greasy Grass, the river that the white men call 
 the Little Big Horn. When my brother came to my 
 tepee from the dance, I still slept. Late the night be- 
 fore I and the other women of the Hunkpapa had 
 labored to make ready for the march that we were to 
 take up that morning. Where we were going, I know 
 not. Where the men of the Sioux go, there go the 
 women ; it is their duty and their pleasure. Our people 
 were roaming through the country that had been given 
 them before the coming of the whites. The country 
 was good; there was rich grass for the ponies, and 
 sweet water; the fields glowed with prairie flowers of 
 yellow and red and blue ; there were buffaloes in the 
 valleys and Indian turnips on the hills for the digging. 
 We were rich in provisions, and no man had a right to 
 put out his hand and tell us that we should not roam. 
 The village by the Greasy Grass was but the stopping- 
 place for a day or two, and we had no thought of a fight 
 with the white man. The Crows and Shoshones we 
 had no fears of, for the lodges of the Sioux were many 
 and their men brave as the lion of the mountains. 
 But we were to move out to the northwest, and I had 
 made many bundles of my store. Thus it was that I 
 lay sleeping when my brother came to the tepee in 
 the dawn and asked for food. 
 
 " I unpacked some of the bundles and prepared his 
 
 breakfast, buffalo meat stewed with turnips, and set 
 
 it before him ; and as he ate, the people of the village 
 
 awakened and the sun rose higher. I have said that our 
 
 [ 166] 
 
AN INDIAN VIEW OF THE CUSTER TRAGEDY 
 
 lodges were many, but how many people there were, 
 I know not. [There were about ten thousand Indians, 
 including women and children, in the village.] But 
 the women were all at work, and the ponies were be- 
 ing rounded up and preparations for leaving went on, 
 that we might be away before the heat of the day be- 
 came great, as it sometimes is in the country of my 
 people and in the valleys near the big hills. 
 
 " The village was made along the Greasy Grass and 
 between that river and the Big Horn, which flows 
 north to the Yellowstone. The Blackfeet, who were 
 not many, had the place at the south end of the vil- 
 lage ; next to the Blackfeet and closer to the river were 
 my people, the Hunkpapa ; down the river and next 
 to the Hunkpapa were the Minniconjou ; and below 
 them the Sans Arc. Behind the Hunkpapa, away from 
 the river, were theOglala and the Brule; and below the 
 Minniconjou to the north were the Cheyennes. Up 
 the river from the village of the Blackfeet there was 
 thick timber, and through this we could not see. 
 
 "I have seen my people prepare for battle many 
 times, and this I know : that the Sioux that morning 
 had no thought of fighting. We expected no attack, 
 and our young men did not watch for the coming of 
 Long Hair [Custer] and his soldiers. 
 
 "Most of the women were occupied in packing their 
 stores preparatory to breaking camp, and some of 
 them were working along the bank of the river. On 
 the east side of the river an old man had shot a buffalo 
 that morning, and near where the buffalo lay dead 
 some women and children were digging Indian tur- 
 nips. These people first saw the soldiers, who then 
 were far to the east. They were on the little hills 
 [ 167] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 between the Greasy Grass and the Rosebud Rivers. 
 They were six to eight miles distant when first seen, 
 and some of the younger people hurried in from the 
 place where the buffalo was killed to notify the camp. 
 We could see the flashing of their sabres and saw that 
 there were very many soldiers in the party. My people 
 went on with their work, making ready to move across 
 the Big Horn, but the tepees were not yet down. The 
 men of the Sioux were much excited, and they watched 
 the coming of Long Hair and hurried the women. The 
 village was not made for a fight and they would move 
 on. We had seen the soldiers marching along the high 
 ridge on the east side of the river and were watching 
 them, but had not seen these others approaching." 
 
 Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull halted in her story, and 
 thought for a few moments. Then she struck her 
 hands sharply together to imitate the rattling of car- 
 bine fire and continued : — 
 
 "Like that the soldiers were upon us. Through 
 the tepee poles their bullets rattled. The sun was 
 several hours high and the tepees were empty. Bul- 
 lets coming from a strip of timber on the west bank 
 of the Greasy Grass passed through the tepees of the 
 Blackfeet and Hunkpapa. The broken character of 
 the country across the river, together with the fringe 
 of trees on the west side, where our camp was situ- 
 ated, had hidden the advance of a great number of 
 soldiers, which we had not seen until they were close 
 upon us and shooting into our end of the village, 
 where, from seeing the direction taken by the soldiers 
 we were watching, we felt comparatively secure. 
 
 " The women and children cried, fearing they would 
 be killed, but the men, the Hunkpapa and Blackfeet, 
 [ 168] 
 
AN INDIAN VIEW OF THE CUSTER TRAGEDY 
 
 the Oglala and Minniconjou, mounted their horses 
 and raced to the Blackfeet tepees. We could still see 
 the soldiers of Long Hair marching along in the dis- 
 tance, and our men, taken by surprise, and from a 
 point whence they had not expected to be attacked, 
 went singing the song of battle into the fight behind 
 the Blackfeet village. And we women wailed over the 
 children, for we believed that the Great Father had 
 sent all his men for the destruction of the Sioux. Some 
 of the women put loads on the travois and would have 
 left, but that their husbands and sons were in the fight. 
 Others tore their hair and wept for the fate that they 
 thought was to be the portion of the Sioux, through 
 the anger of the Great Father, but the men were not 
 afraid, and they had many guns and cartridges. Like 
 the fire that, driven by a great wind, sweeps through 
 the heavy grass-land where the buffalo range, the men 
 of the Hunkpapa, the Blackfeet, the Oglala, and the 
 Minniconjou rushed through the village and into the 
 trees, where the soldiers of the white chief had stopped 
 to fire. The soldiers [Reno's] had been sent by Long 
 Hair to surprise the village of my people. Silently had 
 they moved off around the hills, and keeping out of 
 sight of the young men of our people, had crept in, 
 south of what men now call Reno Hill ; they had 
 crossed the Greasy Grass and climbed the bench from 
 the bank. The way from the river to the plateau upon 
 which our tepees stood was level, but the soldiers were 
 on foot when they came in sight of the Blackfeet. 
 Then it was that they fired and warned us of their 
 approach." 
 
 Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull stopped an instant, and 
 then said : — 
 
 [169] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 " If the soldiers had not fired until all of them were 
 ready for the attack ; if they had brought their horses 
 and rode into the camp of the Sioux, the power of the 
 Dakota nation might have been broken, and our 
 young men killed in the surprise, for they were watch- 
 ing Long Hair only and had no thought of an attack 
 anywhere while they could see his soldiers traveling 
 along parallel with the river on the opposite side, and 
 more than a rifle-shot back from the river. Long Hair 
 had planned cunningly that Reno should attack in 
 the rear while he rode down and gave battle from the 
 front of the village looking on the river. But the Great 
 Spirit was watching over his red children. He allowed 
 the white chief [Reno] to strike too soon, and the 
 braves of the Sioux ran over his soldiers and beat 
 them down as corn before the hail. They fought a 
 few minutes, and the men of the Hunkpapa, the 
 Blackfeet, Oglala, and the Minniconjou bore them 
 down and slew many of them — all who did not get 
 across the river were killed. And Long Hair was still 
 three miles away when nearly all of the blue coats 
 that came to kill the Sioux, at our end of the village, 
 were dead ; only those escaped who were mounted on 
 horses and got across the river. Those who crossed 
 the river got on a high hill to the east, where our young 
 men did not attack them further until after Custer 
 and his men were killed. Two score of the bluecoats 
 lay dead on the field, and our people took their guns 
 and many cartridges, and the mourning was in the 
 houses afar off where the women of the white braves 
 waited to hear of the victory they expected their 
 young men to win. 
 
 " The shadow of the sun had not moved the width of 
 [ 170] 
 
AN INDIAN VIEW OF THE CUSTER TRAGEDY 
 
 a tepee pole's length from the beginning to the ending 
 of the first fight; and while it was going on, the old 
 man who had shot the buffalo east of the river, and 
 some of the women and children who had been digging 
 Indian turnips, and were cut off by the approach of 
 Reno's men, came to the camp. They had seen the 
 soldiers of Long Hair, and had heard the firing of 
 Reno's men, and had secreted themselves in the tim- 
 ber along the river until the guns no longer spoke. 
 
 "Down the Greasy Grass River, three or four miles 
 from where Reno's men had crossed the river, and 
 over across from the camps of the Cheyennes and the 
 Sans Arc, there is an easy crossing of the Greasy 
 Grass. The crossing is near a butte, and around the 
 butte there runs a deep ravine. From Long Hair's 
 movements the Sioux warriors knew that he had 
 planned to strike the camp of my people from the 
 lower end as Reno struck it from the upper end. Even 
 the women, who knew nothing of warfare, saw that 
 Reno had struck too early, and the warriors who were 
 generals in planning, even as Long Hair was, knew 
 that the white chief would attempt to carry out his 
 plan of the attack, believing that Reno had beaten our 
 young men. There was wild disorder in our camp, 
 the old women and children shrieked and got in the 
 way of the warriors, and the women were ordered 
 back out of the village, so that they might not be in 
 the way of our soldiers. And our men went singing 
 down the river, confident that the enemy would be 
 defeated, even as we believed that all of Reno's men 
 had been killed. And I wept with the women for the 
 brave dead and exulted that our braves should gain a 
 great victory over the whites led by Long Hair, who 
 [171] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 was the greatest of their chiefs, and whose soldiers 
 could then be plainly seen across the river. From a 
 hill behind the camp, at first, and then from the bank 
 of the river, I watched the men of our people plan to 
 overthrow the soldiers of the Great Father; and be- 
 fore a shot was fired, I knew that no man who rode 
 with Long Hair would go back to tell the tale of the 
 fight that would begin when the soldiers approached 
 the river at the lower end of the village." 
 
 The story-teller paused and was then asked the 
 question: " Where was Sitting Bull during the fight .P" 
 She went on as though she had not heard the question. 
 
 " From across the river I could hear the music of the 
 bugle and could see the column of soldiers turn to the 
 left, to march down to the river to where the attack 
 was to be made. All I could see was the warriors of 
 my people. They rushed like the wind through the 
 village, going down the ravine as the women went out 
 to the grazing-ground to round up the ponies. It was 
 done very quickly. There had been no council the 
 night before — there was no need for one ; nor had 
 there been a scalp-dance: nothing but the merry- 
 making of the young men and the maidens. When we 
 did not know there was to be a fight, we could not be 
 prepared for it. And our camp was not pitched antici- 
 pating a battle. The warriors would not have picked 
 out such a place for a fight with white men, open to 
 attack from both ends and from the west side. No; 
 what was done that day was done while the sun stood 
 still and the white men were delivered into the hands 
 of the Sioux. But no plan was necessary. 
 
 " Our chiefs and the young men rode quickly down 
 to the end of the village, opposite to the hill upon 
 [ 172] 
 
AN INDIAN VIEW OF THE CUSTER TRAGEDY 
 
 which there now stands the great stone put up by the 
 whites where Long Hair fell. Between that hill and 
 the soldiers was a ravine which started from the river 
 opposite the camp of the Sans Arc, and ran all the 
 way around the butte. To get to the butte Long Hair 
 must cross the ravine ; but from where he was march- 
 ing with his soldiers, he could not see into the ravine 
 nor down to the banks of the river. The warriors of 
 my people, of all the bands, the Sans Arc, the Chey- 
 enne, the Brule, the Minn icon jou, the Oglala, the 
 Blackfeet, all had joined with the Hunkpapa on our 
 side of the Greasy Grass and opposite the opening into 
 the ravine. Soon I saw a number of Cheyennes ride 
 into the river, then some young men of my band, then 
 others, until there were hundreds of warriors in the 
 river and running up into the ravine. When some hun- 
 dreds had passed the river and gone into the ravine, 
 the others who were left, still a very great number, 
 moved back from the river and waited for the attack. 
 And I knew that the fighting men of the Sioux, many 
 hundreds in number, were hidden in the ravine behind 
 the hill upon which Long Hair was marching, and he 
 would be attacked from both sides. And my heart was 
 sad for the soldiers of Long Hair, though they sought 
 the lives of our men ; but I was a woman of the Sioux, 
 and my husband, my uncles, and cousins, and broth- 
 ers, all taking part in the battle, were men who could 
 fight and plan, and I was satisfied. 
 
 "Pizi [Gall] and many of his young men had re- 
 crossed the Greasy Grass River after the white men 
 had been driven off or killed in the earlier engagement 
 at the upper end of the village, where he with some of 
 our warriors had been shooting at the soldiers, who 
 [173] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 were chased to the hill, and the soldiers had been 
 shooting at them, but could not hit the Sioux. When 
 Pizi [Gall] recrossed the river, many women followed 
 his party, and we heard him tell his men to frighten 
 the horses of the soldiers, which were held in small 
 bunches. With shoutings that we could hear across 
 the river, the young men stampeded the horses and 
 the women captured them and brought them to the 
 village. The Indians fought the soldiers with bullets 
 taken from the first party that attacked their village, 
 and many rode the horses captured from the white 
 men, who had fled to the hill. To the northwest a 
 great many women and children were driving in the 
 ponies of the Sioux, but I remained with many other 
 women along the bank of Greasy Grass River. I saw 
 Crazy Horse lead the Cheyennes into the water and 
 up the ravine; Crow King and the Hunkpapa went 
 after them ; and then Gall, who had led his young men 
 and killed the soldiers he had been fighting farther 
 up the river, rode along the bench by the river to 
 where Long Hair had stopped with his men. 
 
 "I cannot remember the time. When men fight 
 and the air is filled with bullets, when the screaming 
 of horses that are shot drowns the war-whoop of the 
 warriors, a woman whose husband and brothers are 
 in the battle does not think of the time. But the sun 
 was no longer overhead when the war-whoop of the 
 Sioux sounded from the river-bottom and the ravine 
 surrounding the hill at the end of the ridge where 
 Long Hair had taken his last stand. The river was in 
 sight from the butte, and while the whoop still rung in 
 our ears and the women were shrieking, two Chey- 
 ennes tried to cross the river and one of them was shot 
 [174] 
 
AN INDIAN VIEW OF THE CUSTER TRAGEDY 
 
 and killed by Long Hair's men. Then the men of the 
 Sioux nation, led by Crow King, Hump, Crazy Horse, 
 and many great chiefs, rose up on all sides of the hill, 
 and the last we could see from our side of the river 
 was a great number of gray horses. The smoke of the 
 shooting and the dust of the horses shut out the hill, 
 and the soldiers fired many shots, but the Sioux shot 
 straight and the soldiers fell dead. The women 
 crossed the river after the men of our village, and 
 when we came to the hill there were no soldiers living 
 and Long Hair lay dead among the rest. There were 
 more than two hundred dead soldiers on the hill, and 
 the boys of the village shot many who were already 
 dead, for the blood of the people was hot and their 
 hearts bad, and they took no prisoners that day." 
 
 The woman sat playing with the edge of her blanket. 
 Of the dreadful things that took place on the hill after 
 the command of the unfortunate Custer had been an- 
 nihilated, she would, of course, say nothing. The wo- 
 men of her nation finished the work of the warriors on 
 that awful field. 
 
 I asked her if there was any more fighting. 
 
 " Not much. The men on the hill [Reno's] were safe 
 to stay there until they wanted water. Gall kept his 
 men along the river. Some of the soldiers were shot 
 as they tried to reach the water. There was some fight- 
 ing too, but none of our young men were killed. 
 
 "That night the Sioux, men, women, and children, 
 lighted many fires and danced ; their hearts were glad, 
 for the Great Spirit had given them a great victory. 
 All along the valley of the Greasy Grass, fires were 
 lighted, and the women laughed as they labored hard 
 to bring in the fuel ; for in the darkness they could see 
 [175] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 the gleam of the flames on the arms of the soldiers fas- 
 tened in a trap on Reno Hill. The people had taken 
 many guns, cartridges, horses, and much clothing 
 from the soldiers, and they rejoiced while the fires lit 
 up the field on the hill across the river, where the naked 
 bodies of the soldiers lay. We had much money, but 
 did not know at the time what its real value was, and 
 a lot of green-paper money was kept in my tepee for 
 some time before being disposed of. All night the 
 people danced and sang their songs of victory, and 
 they were strong in their might and would have at- 
 tacked the soldiers who lay through the night on what 
 you call Reno Hill, but Gall and Crow King and 
 Crazy Horse would waste no lives of the Sioux braves. 
 They said : * We will shoot at them occasionally, but 
 not charge. They will fall into our hands when the 
 thirst burns in their throats and makes them mad for 
 drink.' 
 
 *' This was the counsel of the chiefs, and the young 
 men saw that it was good ; so while many feasted, a few 
 held the hill and the soldiers did not know it, for of 
 those who stole to the river to drink, none went back 
 alive. There was fighting the next day, but the Sioux 
 knew early in the day that many soldiers were coming 
 up from the north, and preparations were made to 
 leave for new hunting-grounds. And while our hearts 
 were singing for the victory our braves had won, there 
 were wailing women in the village, for they had their 
 dead. Since the Sioux first fought the men who are our 
 friends now, they had not won so great a battle and at 
 so little cost. Twenty-two dead were counted, and the 
 price was not great ; but what wife, or mother, or sister 
 gives thought to victory when she finds her dead on the 
 [ 176 1 
 
AN INDIAN VIEW OF THE CUSTER TRAGEDY 
 
 field? So it was that in the midst of the rejoicing, 
 there was sorrowing among the women, who would 
 not be comforted in knowing that their dead had gone 
 to join the ghosts of the brave. The dead we took with 
 us, laid on travois, and carried for many days, for 
 among the white men were Crow and Shoshone scouts, 
 who would desecrate our dead, and we would have no 
 Sioux scalps dangling at their tepee-poles. 
 
 " So we went out from Greasy Grass River, and left 
 Long Hair and his dead to their friends. The people 
 scattered and the pursuit did not harm us. But I still 
 remember the bitterness of the suffering of the Sioux 
 that winter, after we had met and talked with Bear 
 Coat [General Miles] on the Yellowstone, when we 
 were on our way north into the land of the Red Coats, 
 where we remained five winters, and were frequently 
 very destitute, while we remained there. 
 
 " So it was that the Sioux defeated Long Hair and 
 his soldiers in the valley of the Greasy Grass River, 
 which my people remember with regret, but without 
 shame. We are now living happily and in friendship 
 with the whites, knowing that their hearts are good 
 toward us. The great chiefs who led that fight are 
 dead : Gall, Crow King, Crazy Horse, Big Road, and 
 the other head men are dead and gone to the land of 
 ghosts, but their deeds live, and we of the Sioux nation 
 keep them in our memories, even as we keep in 
 remembrance Long Hair and his men, whose bravery 
 in battle makes the bravery of their conquerors a 
 thing that cannot be buried in the grave nor forgotten, 
 because their ghosts are at peace." 
 
 And Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull put the corner of her 
 shawl to her face and wiped away a tear, forced per- 
 [177] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 haps by the thought that the husband of her youth, 
 whom she has not forgotten, — though she has had 
 many offers from chief men of her people, — was with 
 the ghosts of those others who fought with and against 
 him on that June day, thirty-three years ago, in the 
 valley of the Little Big Horn. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 WHEN SITTING BULL'S MEDICINE FAILED 
 
 The Message that Kicking Bear carried to the Sioux Chief and that 
 led to the Death of Sitting Bull. 
 
 I STOOD by the grave of Sitting Bull one Sunday 
 evening a few months ago. The mound under 
 which is buried the body of the medicine man is 
 in the extreme northwest corner of the Fort Yates 
 military cemetery, adjoining the Standing Rock 
 Agency, North Dakota. It is marked with the sten- 
 ciled inscription, in black on a white board : — 
 
 SITTING BULL 
 
 DIED 
 
 December 15, 1890. 
 
 There was no other grave within thirty yards. A 
 profound peace lay upon the place. Far up toward the 
 agency school a number of Indian boys played cro- 
 quet; a phonograph in the Indian police-headquarters 
 was working, — as it is most of the time, — and oddly 
 enough it was reproducing "Taps" from a bugler's 
 record. Two hundred yards east of the grave of Sit- 
 ting Bull the deserted barracks of Fort Yates afforded 
 a dismal playground for the children of the agency 
 employees, and their voices came faintly down to the 
 cemetery ; in the northwest the sun was dropping out 
 of sight behind the buttes. A more lovely landscape, 
 [ 179 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 a scene more replete with the suggestion of a holy 
 peace, could not be imagined; and there at my feet 
 lay, stilled forever, the form which had been the tene- 
 ment of the turbulent spirit of Sitting Bull, who had 
 striven all his life to bar the progress of the white man, 
 who made the setting for this all-pervading peace, 
 while a few rods away stood the dismantled fort built 
 to hold that spirit in check. The deserted fort and the 
 dead hostile spoke to me of the passing of the day of 
 the Indian, and as the peal of the vesper bell floated 
 down from the mission chapel on the hill, I was 
 minded to tell the story of the death of Sitting Bull. 
 
 Crafty, avaricious, mendacious, and ambitious. 
 Sitting Bull possessed all of the faults of an Indian 
 and none of the nobler attributes which have gone far 
 to redeem some of his people from their deeds of guilt. 
 He had no single quality that would serve to draw his 
 people to him, yet he was by far the most influential 
 man of his nation for many years, — neither Gall, 
 Spotted Tail, nor Red Cloud, all greater men in every 
 sense, exerting the power he did. I never knew him 
 to display a single trait that might command admira- 
 tion or respect, and I knew him well in the later years 
 of his life. But he maintained his prestige by theacute- 
 ness of his mind and his knowledge of human nature. 
 Even his people knew him as a physical coward, but 
 the fact did not handicap the man in dealing with his 
 following. He had many defenders at all times, and 
 his medicine was good down to the end. 
 
 He was not a hereditary chief, nor even a chief by 
 election or choice. He was born in 1834 on the Grand 
 River, South Dakota, within twenty miles of the scene 
 [ 180] 
 
WHEN SITTING BULL'S MEDICINE FAILED 
 
 of his death. His father's name was Sitting Bull, and 
 the son was called, as a boy. Jumping Badger. I had 
 his history from his own lips when he returned, in 
 May, 1883, from his imprisonment at Fort Randall, 
 where he was held after his surrender in 1881. He 
 got his name and made his first entrance into the 
 public life of his band — the Hunkpapa — by the use 
 of that intelligence which he displayed through life. 
 
 As a boy of fourteen, he told me, — and the facts 
 were well known to the people, — that he accompa- 
 nied his father and their tribesmen on one occasion 
 when the Sioux took the war-path against the Crows. 
 In a battle a Crow warrior was killed. Jumping Bad- 
 ger did not kill the man, but he counted the coup, — 
 touched the body first after death, — and established 
 his right to be regarded as the slayer. Upon the return 
 of this war-party to the village. Jumping Badger's 
 father made a feast, gave away a great many ponies, 
 and announced that his son had won the right to wear 
 his father's name and should thenceforth be known 
 as Sitting Bull — in which the old man made provi- 
 sion beyond his knowing for the perpetuation of the 
 name. His accuracy of judgment, knowledge of men, 
 a student-like disposition to observe natural phenom- 
 ena, and a deep insight into affairs among Indians and 
 such white people as he came into contact with, made 
 his stock in trade, and he made "good medicine." 
 He made a pretence at mysticism that was easily sus- 
 tained among his people, and long before the Custer 
 affair he had a high standing among the common peo- 
 ple and was too high to be injured by the contempt of 
 the war-chiefs. 
 
 There is no doubt that his medicine was good in the 
 [ 181 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 Custer affair. He foretold with great accuracy the 
 battle and the event, and the mere fact that he took 
 to the hills, there to make medicine, while the fight 
 was in progress, did not affect his standing adversely. 
 He came out of the affair with higher honor than he 
 possessed when he went into it. The disastrous re- 
 treat to Canada, and the sufferings his people under- 
 went while he was leading them, caused him a con- 
 siderable loss in prestige. Gall and Crow King, his 
 chief lieutenants, found him to be a fraud and a 
 coward, and deserted him. Hump of the Minnicon- 
 jou left him and surrendered. Rain-in-the-Face and 
 other hereditary chiefs of his people despised him as 
 an incompetent leader and coward, and brought their 
 people in. Sitting Bull surrendered at Fort Buford in 
 July, 1881, and when I first came in contact with him 
 personally he was a prisoner. Officially I had been 
 watching him for years. 
 
 It was on the day I arrived to take charge of the 
 agency at Standing Rock, September 8, 1881, that I 
 saw him first. He was a prisoner on board the steamer 
 General Sherman. The boat had brought me down 
 from Bismarck, and was ordered to take on board at 
 Fort Yates, near the agency. Sitting Bull and one hun- 
 dred and forty-six of his fellow prisoners, for trans- 
 port to Fort Randall. Sitting Bull and his people were 
 on board when I went down to the steamer after get- 
 ting my things ashore. He had sent for me to tell me 
 of his grievances. He was a stocky man, with an evil 
 face and shifty eyes, and he still showed the effect of 
 his desperate experience of five years in the Canadian 
 Northwest, chiefly in the Province of Alberta. He 
 knew of me, and what little he said was without his 
 [ 182 ] 
 
WHEN SITTING BULL'S MEDICINE FAILED 
 
 usual arrogance, for he was then desirous of making 
 friends. I saw no more of him until he was released 
 as a prisoner of war and sent from Fort Randall, Da- 
 kota Territory, and came under my jurisdiction at 
 Standing Rock on May 10, 1883,where he lived up to 
 the time of his death, and where I succeeded in keep- 
 ing him out of mischief generally until 1890. 
 
 KICKING BEAR AND THE COMING OF THE GHOSTS 
 
 It was in the early fall of 1890 that Kicking Bear, 
 a half-crazed fanatic of the Minniconjou band, came 
 up from the Cheyenne River reservation and imparted 
 to Sitting Bull the secrets of the new religion which 
 would bring the Indian into the inheritance of the 
 earth. As an exhorter Kicking Bear was a power, but 
 he had no force as a leader. The doctrine he came to 
 spread was contrived with such ingenuity that it is 
 still a wonder to me that it did not spread further 
 among a people so much given to superstitions that 
 accepted spiritism as the foundation of all things re- 
 ligious. It took a tremendous hold upon those who 
 became at all infected with the new belief. 
 
 There has been much speculation as to the origin 
 of the Messianic movement. The Indians said it came 
 from a people "who lived beyond the Yellow Faces 
 to the west of the Utes." This led me to believe that 
 the craze took form at the instigation of some genius 
 of the southwestern tribes, who had observed the prac- 
 tices of those descendants of the Aztecs who look to 
 the east every morning in anticipation of the return 
 of Montezuma, who is to redeem them from toil and 
 subjection and set them to rule over the earth. The 
 new belief had traveled far in a brief space of time, 
 [ 183] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 and sprang into vigorous life almost in a day on the 
 Standing Rock reservation. It looked like an inspired 
 outbreak of religious zeal. As a matter of fact I am 
 convinced that the new religion was managed from 
 the beginning, so far as the Standing Rock Sioux were 
 concerned, by Sitting Bull, who had heard of the new 
 faith that was making some headway in the southern 
 reservations, and who, having lost his former influ- 
 ence over the Sioux, planned to import and use it to 
 reestablish himself in the leadership of the people, 
 whom he might then lead in safety in any desperate 
 enterprise which he might direct. 
 
 During the summer of that year I was repeatedly 
 compelled to refuse Sitting Bull permission to visit the 
 Cheyenne River reservation. Some reports had come 
 to us of the introduction of the "Ghost-Dancing" re- 
 ligion in the southern reservations, and I declined to 
 allow Sitting Bull to leave his home. He had estab- 
 lished himself with his family and friends on the Grand 
 River, forty miles southwest of the agency, and was 
 under the espionage of Indians upon whose fidelity 
 I could reckon ; and that dependence was warranted 
 even to the death, it was shown. 
 
 Sitting Bull had heard of Kicking Bear. That indi- 
 vidual had been absent from home for about a year, 
 and had begun to preach the new religion on his re- 
 turn. Finding that he could not get away himself, 
 Sitting Bull sent six of his young men to Cherry Creek, 
 on the Cheyenne River reservation, with an invita- 
 tion to Kicking Bear to make him, Sitting Bull, a visit. 
 The Minniconjou medicine man arrived at Grand 
 River October 9, 1890, and forthwith initiated Sitting 
 Bull into the mysteries of the new cult. I had never 
 [184] 
 
SITTING BULL 
 
WHEN SITTING BULL'S MEDICINE FAILED 
 
 seen Kicking Bear at that time, but had learned of 
 the doctrine upon which he based his preaching, the 
 "revelation," from the lips of One Bull, a nephew of 
 Sitting Bull, who repeated to me word for word, with 
 that accuracy of memory that marks the unlettered, 
 the preachment of Kicking Bear. One Bull, an In- 
 dian policeman at the time, imparted what he had 
 heard of the new dispensation with obvious trepida- 
 tion, but with some sense of security, because he had 
 found that Sitting Bull's medicine was no longer good. 
 I set the matter down at the time in the words of 
 Kicking Bear, as repeated by One Bull, and here it 
 is: — 
 
 "My brothers, I bring to you the promise of a day 
 in which there will be no white man to lay his hand 
 on the bridle of the Indian's horse; when the red men 
 of the prairie will rule the world and not be turned 
 from the hunting-grounds by any man. I bring you 
 word from your fathers the ghosts, that they are now 
 marching to join you, led by the Messiah who came 
 once to live on earth with the white men, but was cast 
 out and killed by them. I have seen the wonders of the 
 spirit-land, and have talked with the ghosts. I traveled 
 far and am sent back with a message to tell you to 
 make ready for the coming of the Messiah and return 
 of the ghosts in the spring. 
 
 "In my tepee on the Cheyenne reservation I arose 
 after the corn-planting, sixteen moons ago, and pre- 
 pared for my journey. I had seen many things and 
 had been told by a voice to go forth and meet the 
 ghosts, for they were to return and inhabit the earth. 
 I traveled far on the cars of the white men, until I 
 came to the place where the railroad stopped. There I 
 [185] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 met two men, Indians, whom I had never seen before, 
 but who greeted me as a brother and gave me meat 
 and bread. They had three horses, and we rode with- 
 out talking for four days, for I knew they were to be 
 witnesses to what I should see. Two suns had we 
 traveled, and had passed the last signs of the white 
 man, — for no white man had ever had the courage to 
 travel so far, — when we saw a strange and fierce- 
 looking black man, dressed in skins. He was living 
 alone, and had medicine with which he could do what 
 he wished. He would wave his hands and make great 
 heaps of money ; another motion, and we saw many 
 spring wagons, already painted and ready to hitch 
 horses to ; yet another motion of the hands, and there 
 sprung up before us great herds of buffalo. The black 
 man spoke and told us that he was the friend of the 
 Indian; that we should remain with him and go no 
 farther, and we might take what we wanted of the 
 money, and spring wagons, and the buffalo. But our 
 hearts were turned away from the black man, my 
 brothers, and we left him and traveled for two days 
 more. 
 
 " On the evening of the fourth day, when we were 
 weak and faint from our journey, we looked for a 
 camping-place, and were met by a man dressed like 
 an Indian, but whose hair was long and glistening like 
 the yellow money of the white man. His face was very 
 beautiful to see, and when he spoke my heart was 
 glad and I forgot my hunger and the toil I had gone 
 through. And he said, * How, my children. You have 
 done well to make this long journey to come to me. 
 Leave your horses and follow me.' And our hearts 
 sang in our breasts and we were glad. He led the 
 [ 186] 
 
WHEN SITTING BULL'S MEDICINE FAILED 
 
 way up a great ladder of small clouds, and we fol- 
 lowed him up through an opening in the sky. My 
 brothers, the tongue of Kicking Bear is straight and 
 he cannot tell all that he saw, for he is not an orator, 
 but the forerunner and herald of the ghosts. He whom 
 we followed took us to the Great Spirit and his wife, 
 and we lay prostrate on the ground, but I saw that they 
 were dressed as Indians. Then from an opening in 
 the sky we were shown all the countries of the earth 
 and the camping-grounds of our fathers since the be- 
 ginning; all were there, the tepees, and the ghosts of 
 our fathers, and great herds of buffalo, and a country 
 that smiled because it was rich and the white man was 
 not there. Then he whom we had followed showed 
 us his hands and feet, and there were wounds in them 
 which had been made by the whites when he went 
 to them and they crucified him. And he told us that 
 he was going to come again on earth, and this time 
 he would remain and live with the Indians, who were 
 his chosen people. 
 
 " Then we were seated on rich skins, of animals un- 
 known to me, before the open door of the tepee of the 
 Great Spirit, and told how to say the prayers and per- 
 form the dances I am now come to show my brothers. 
 And the Great Spirit spoke to us saying : — 
 
 " ' Take this message to my red children and tell it 
 to them as I say it. I have neglected the Indians for 
 many moons, but I will make them my people now 
 if they obey me in this message. The earth is getting 
 old, and I will make it new for my chosen people, the 
 Indians, who are to inhabit it, and among them will 
 be all those of their ancestors who have died, their 
 fathers, mothers, brothers, cousins and wives — all 
 [187] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 those who hear my voice and my words through the 
 tongues of my children. I will cover the earth with 
 new soil to a depth of five times the height of a man, 
 and under this new soil will be buried the whites, and 
 all the holes and the rotten places will be filled up. 
 The new lands will be covered with sweet-grass and 
 running water and trees, and herds of buffalo and 
 ponies will stray over it, that my red children may eat 
 and drink, hunt and rejoice. And the sea to the west 
 I will fill up so that no ships may pass over it, and the 
 other seas will I make impassable. And while I am 
 making the new earth the Indians who have heard this 
 message and who dance and pray and believe will be 
 taken up in the air and suspended there, while the 
 wave of new earth is passing; then set down among 
 the ghosts of their ancestors, relatives, and friends. 
 Those of my children who doubt will be left in unde- 
 sirable places, where they will be lost and wander 
 around until they believe and learn the songs and the 
 dance of the ghosts. And while my children are dan- 
 cing and making ready to join the ghosts, they shall 
 have no fear of the white man, for I will take from the 
 whites the secret of making gunpowder, and the pow- 
 der they now have on hand will not burn when it is di- 
 rected against the red people, my children, who know 
 the songs and the dances of the ghosts ; but that pow- 
 der which my children, the red men, have, will burn 
 and kill when it is directed against the whites and 
 used by those who believe. And if a red man die at the 
 hands of the whites while he is dancing, his spirit will 
 only go to the end of the earth and there join the 
 ghosts of his fathers and return to his friends next 
 spring. Go then, my children, and tell these things 
 [ 188] 
 
WHEN SITTING BULL'S MEDICINE FAILED 
 
 to all the people and make all ready for the coming 
 of the ghosts.' 
 
 "We were given food that was rich and sweet to 
 taste, and as we sat there eating, there came up 
 through the clouds a man, tall as a tree and thin like a 
 snake, with great teeth sticking out of his mouth, his 
 body covered with short hair, and we knew at once it 
 was the Evil Spirit. And he said to the Great Spirit, 
 *I want half the people of the earth.' And the Great 
 Spirit answered and said, * No, I cannot give you any; 
 I love them all too much.' The Evil Spirit asked again 
 and was again refused, and asked the third time, and 
 the Great Spirit then told him that he could have the 
 whites to do what he liked with, but that he would not 
 let him have any Indians, as they were his chosen 
 people for all future time. Then we were shown the 
 dances and taught the songs that I am bringing to 
 you, my brothers, and were led down the ladder of 
 clouds by him who had taken us up. We found our 
 horses and rode back to the railroad, the Messiah 
 flying along in the air with us and teaching us the 
 songs for the new dances. At the railroad he left us 
 and told us to return to our people, and tell them, and 
 all the people of the red nations, what we had seen ; 
 and he promised us that he would return to the clouds 
 no more, but would remain at the end of the earth and 
 lead the ghosts of our fathers to meet us when the 
 next winter is passed." 
 
 This relation — stripped of the flowers of language 
 which even the less gifted of the Sioux medicine men 
 use, and told as a bald and literal translation of what 
 was a most attractive story to an imaginative and 
 credulous people — was occasionally varied toward 
 [189] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 the end of Kicking Bear's mission, and he was known 
 to have admitted that he did not make the journey to 
 the clouds himself, but had met those who had gone 
 aloft. These vagaries, however, did not count with 
 those who had once committed themselves to the new 
 faith. The doctrine was artfully framed to appeal 
 to the cupidity of the Indian and to inflame him 
 against the whites, carrying with it promise of return 
 to the free life, with plenty of buffalo and no prospect 
 of work. It upset none of the pagan ideas, and gave 
 approval to the current belief in the existence of the 
 ghosts. A more pernicious system of religion could 
 not have been offered to a people who stood on the 
 threshold of civilization, and who hungered for a real- 
 ization of dreams that would free them from present 
 poverty, probable hunger, and the prospect of toil. 
 
 The first thing to be done was to get rid of Kicking 
 Bear. He was a big medicine man among his people, 
 but I was convinced that Sitting Bull, having been 
 initiated in the mysteries of the ghost-dance, would 
 interpose no objection to the exclusion from his pre- 
 serves of a competitor in the medicine-making. Sit- 
 ting Bull had gone with zest into the business of pro- 
 moting the new religion. Knowing his people, and 
 utilizing the mysticism with which he habitually 
 preyed on their superstitions, he established himself 
 as the high priest of the cult even while Kicking Bear 
 was still with him. He fasted and prayed with such 
 vigor, and danced with such enthusiasm, that he 
 reduced himself to mere skin and bone, and kept his 
 people worked up to a high state of enthusiasm by 
 inducing them to emulate his example. It was the 
 appeal that the leaders of the ghost-dance made to the 
 [ 190] 
 
WHEN SITTING BULL'S MEDICINE FAILED 
 
 superstitions of the people that I feared most; and 
 that I was justified in this fear was demonstrated 
 when I sent a party of thirteen policemen, under the 
 command of Crazy Walking, a man in whom I had 
 the most complete faith, with orders to arrest Kicking 
 Bear and eject him from the reservation. 
 
 The policemen found Kicking Bear and Sitting 
 Bull conducting a seance, the Minniconjou exhorting 
 the people. So impressed was the ojQBcer in charge of 
 the police detachment with the dance and the wonder- 
 ful stories told by the dancers about their visions, that 
 he was turned from his purpose, and returned to the 
 agency with Sitting Bull's promise that Kicking Bear 
 would leave on the following day. This report was 
 brought to me October 14, and I immediately sent 
 Chatka, second lieutenant of the police force, to eject 
 Kicking Bear. Lieutenant Chatka was a man of great 
 firmness of character, and when he asked for only 
 two men and said he would drive Kicking Bear out, I 
 knew that the medicine of Kicking Bear would be 
 wasted on him, whatever it might cost him mentally. 
 Chatka arrived at Sitting Bull's camp on the Grand 
 River the next day. A very large party of Indians were 
 dancing. The lieutenant pushed his way through the 
 dancers, notified Kicking Bear and six men from the 
 Cheyenne River reservation who were with him, to 
 leave the Standing Rock reservation forthwith, which 
 they proceeded to do, and he conducted them to the 
 Moreau River, the southern boundary of the reserva- 
 tion, about twenty-five miles southwest of Sitting 
 Bull's camp. I cannot imagine a performance requir- 
 ing more courage, from an Indian standpoint, than 
 that accomplished by Lieutenant Chatka that day. 
 [191 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 That night Sitting Bull broke the peace-pipe which 
 he had kept sacredly since his surrender at Fort Bu- 
 ford in 1881. He deliberately broke it in the presence 
 of the assemblage of ghost-dancers, saying that he was 
 ready to fight and would die for this new religion if 
 need be. The effect upon his over-credulous followers, 
 of this grand-stand play, in which he was an adept, 
 was, as the medicine man knew it would be, tremen- 
 dous and far-reaching. The people understood Sitting 
 Bull to mean that he would stand against the whites 
 to the death ; but he, at the same time, knew that the 
 whites would pay no attention to this bit of bravado. 
 After that day there was menace in the attitude of 
 Sitting Bull that could only be met by summary treat- 
 ment, and I recommended to the Department, ur- 
 gently, the necessity of removing him, with his few 
 mischief-making supporters, from the reservation to 
 some remote military prison. I had previously, as 
 early as June 18, 1890, made a similar recommenda- 
 tion, and included with him Circling Bear, Black Bird, 
 and Circling Hawk, as men who should be removed 
 from the reservation, whose active opposition to the 
 government policies was detrimental to the peace and 
 welfare of the Indians. At the same time I assured 
 the Department of my control of the Indians on the 
 reservation generally ; and in this I was justified, for 
 the disaffection never existed beyond about four hun- 
 dred and fifty members, the immediate following of 
 Sitting Bull, and thus involved only about ten per 
 cent of the Indians of the Standing Rock agency. 
 
 Sitting Bull became insolent to the Indian police, 
 and arrogant through being left unmolested. The 
 well-disposed Indians living along Grand River ad- 
 [ 192 ] 
 
WHEN SITTING BULL'S MEDICINE FAILED 
 
 jacent to his camp, who would not accept the absurdi- 
 ties of the new doctrine, were subjected to frequent 
 insults from him and his fanatical crazed adherents. 
 He kept his people madly engaged in the new dance, 
 adding absurdities to it from time to time as he ob- 
 served interest and enthusiasm among them lagging. 
 His conduct and attitude for some weeks previous to 
 his arrest, together with the mysteriousness of his 
 nightly seances, to which only unwavering members 
 of the new doctrine were admitted, with the further 
 fact that his immediate followers were uncommuni- 
 cative and sullen, made it plainly evident that he was 
 secretly preparing for some rash movement. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 How the Old Medicine Man met his Fate at the Hands of the Indian 
 Police. 
 
 THAT fall there were strenuous times on the fron- 
 tier, and, in the event, it marked the passing of 
 that indefinable boundary between the refine- 
 ments of civilization and the country to which the 
 white man had turned in the determination to compel 
 nature to his needs. Looking back at it now, I can see 
 that the times were pregnant of great things. On the 
 one hand stood the white man — and he was not 
 standing still. Nothing could deter him from going 
 forward, and if, in the march of civilization, a people 
 was blotted out, it would not be the first time that the 
 same march had proved remorseless. 
 
 On the other hand there was a people who stood at 
 the threshold of civilization, many of whom were ear- 
 nestly endeavoring to adjust themselves to the new 
 conditions along the white man's road, but who wa- 
 vered when bidden by the leaders of a savage cult to 
 accept the new doctrine which so strongly appealed to 
 all their traditions and inspirations. They were still 
 very largely untutored, and strange to the ways of the 
 white man. A few years back they knew no limit to 
 their range in roaming save those set for them by 
 tradition, and all of them remembered very vividly 
 the buffalo and the plentitude of smaller game. The 
 [ 194 ] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 buffalo was as dependable and certain a means of 
 subsistence for them as the crops of the white men, — 
 even more so, — and in a day, almost, the buffalo had 
 been obliterated. They had been accustomed to going 
 out and taking what they would in the form of meat ; 
 suddenly that meat-supply was cut off, and they were 
 rendered dependent on a government whose policy 
 was the gradual reduction of gratuities to Indians. I 
 was then, and am still, astonished at the spirit dis- 
 played by the Indians under the circumstances, and 
 am sure it was not meekness. They were bold enough 
 in most things, but they appeared to have been sud- 
 denly forced to the knowledge that the white man was 
 master of the situation and the country, and that the 
 salvation of the Indian lay along the broadly blazed 
 trail made by the whites. The younger element among 
 the Indians was quite ready to accept the inevitable, 
 to abandon the god of things as they ought to be for 
 "the god of things as they are." The unreconstructed 
 element among the old leaders, who saw their power 
 vanishing in the dawn of the day of the man who 
 works, whose pride of place and chieftainship was 
 being swallowed by Indians who had come to know 
 the meaning of earning their bread by the sweat of 
 their brows, — this element was standing for a voice- 
 less and purposeless protest. 
 
 It was not to be wondered at that the unrecon- 
 structed Indians should seize upon the excuse fur- 
 nished by the inventors of the Messianic movement to 
 put their protest into form. Hollow Horn Bear, a 
 chief of the Brule Sioux, and a man of standing and 
 influence to-day, told me once that he saw the inevi- 
 table. 
 
 [195] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 " I believe," he said, " that I must die, and I think it 
 would be better for me to die fighting with weapons in 
 my hands than to starve to death at the agency door." 
 
 Hollow Horn Bear has changed his opinion and 
 his attitude, but what he said expressed the thought 
 of the unreconstructed Indian of ghost-dancing days. 
 
 Considering the attitude of many of the older and 
 more influential Indians and the seductive promises 
 of the prophets of the Indian Messiah, it may be said 
 now that a bloody Indian war was averted at that time 
 by the narrowest margin, and that margin held by 
 the men who had won the loyal support of Indians of 
 standing and influence, whose intelligence had been 
 developed to a stage which permitted them to see 
 clearly that the Indian could not hope to cope with 
 the white man in a test of strength. And, in my per- 
 sonal experience, I was shown that there were In- 
 dians whose loyalty to their pledged word was so 
 strong and dependable that they were ready not only 
 to dare the opprobrium of their people, but to defy 
 the powers of the unseen and unknown world before 
 which they and their ancestors had always trembled. 
 
 It was on the fidelity of such men as these that I 
 reckoned when I assured the Department, in the sum- 
 mer of 1890, that there was no danger of an uprising 
 and that I had my people well in hand. Going back to 
 June 7 of that year, I find a letter from the Commis- 
 sioner of Indian Affairs, in which it is stated that a let- 
 ter had been received by the Department from a well- 
 known citizen of Pierre, South Dakota, saying that 
 the Sioux Indians were planning an outbreak. Re- 
 plying to this letter I said, in part, under date of 
 June 18 : — 
 
 [ 196] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 "So far as the Indians of this agency [Standing 
 Rock] are concerned, there is nothing in either their 
 words or their actions that would justify the rumor. 
 . . . There are a few malcontents here, as at all 
 of the Sioux agencies, who cling tenaciously to the 
 old Indian ways and are slow to accept the new or- 
 der of things, . . . and this class of Indians are ever 
 ready to circulate idle rumors and sow dissensions 
 to discourage the more progressive, . . . and the re- 
 moval from among them of a few individuals such as 
 Sitting Bull, Circling Bear, Black Bird, and Circling 
 Hawk, of this agency. Big Foot and his lieutenants of 
 Cheyenne River agency, Crow Dog and Low Dog of 
 Rosebud, and any of the like sort of Pine Ridge, would 
 end all trouble and uneasiness in the future." 
 
 This recommendation I reiterated repeatedly. It 
 was the common-sense proposition to remove the 
 disaffected from the well affected; but the desired 
 order was not forthcoming until the disaffection had 
 assumed alarming proportions. 
 
 I felt secure in the knowledge that the Standing 
 Rock Indians in general could be depended upon to 
 behave themselves, but was very anxious that Sitting 
 Bull, the prime mischief-maker, should be removed — 
 not because there was danger that he might indulge 
 in any overt act, but because he was demoralizing the 
 people who submitted to his influence. The preach- 
 ment to the Indians of this New Doctrine, and the 
 possibilities of an unholy war based upon fanatical 
 inspiration, was too good a thing to be passed by news- 
 paper correspondents, and the public press soon an- 
 nounced with sensational headlines that the Messianic 
 movement was quite general among the various In- 
 [ 197] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 dian tribes, and had assumed startling proportions 
 elsewhere before its effect was felt on the Standing 
 Rock reservation. 
 
 The spread of news in the Indian country is one of 
 those things not understandable of the white man, 
 and the coming of the Messiah was spread among the 
 Indians with the speed of the telegraph. It appeared 
 one day among the Shoshones and Arapahoes in Wyo- 
 ming, with a personal Messiah up in the mountains in 
 some inaccessible place ; the next day it was talked of 
 in Oklahoma, Nebraska, North and South Dakota, — 
 the Indians of widely distant localities coming simul- 
 taneously to the knowledge bf the impending emanci- 
 pation of the red man. The preaching was varied ac- 
 cording to the locality, or the needs or intelligence of 
 its promoters and prophets. But behind it all there 
 was the same menace to white domination, the same 
 appeal to the prejudices and passions of the red man, 
 the same promise of a return to the blissful state of 
 freedom and plenty that had obtained before the com- 
 ing of the white man and the passing of the buffalo. 
 In those parts of the country where the Indian was 
 as little understood as he was known personally, his 
 mysterious attitude led many to believe it to mean an 
 impending Indian war, and everybody appeared to 
 overlook the conditions that surrounded the red man. 
 If it had developed a war, it could only have been a 
 war of self-sacrifice, resulting in extermination of the 
 Indians involved, as it could not have gone further 
 than outbreaks in certain sections of the country, as, 
 for instance, among the allied people of what had re- 
 cently been the Great Sioux reservation. An outbreak 
 might be disastrous if the Indians were permitted to 
 [ 198] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 mass, after defying the agency authorities, but only 
 sparsely settled districts would be involved. It was 
 plainly the business of the government and its agents 
 to prevent the Indians from leaving the reservations 
 upon which they were located, and to suppress the 
 ghost-dancing by demonstrating to the unthinking 
 the powerlessness of their prophets to save themselves 
 from punishment for insubordination. I knew these 
 conditions, and suggested a remedy at once in the 
 removal of the trouble-makers. 
 
 I had no doubt of the loyalty of a vast majority 
 of the people of the reservation, and knew that the 
 suppression of the "pernicious activity" of Sitting 
 Bull would go far toward putting an end to the craze 
 throughout the country ; but he was not removed and 
 became bolder in his work of spreading the ghost- 
 dancing propaganda. His following, however, con- 
 tinued very generally restricted to his own particular 
 people of the Hunkpapa band living along the Grand 
 River. But some of the best men on the reservation 
 were touched in their superstitious natures by the 
 new religion. I had to bolster up more than one of the 
 head men, and in this I was aided by their personal 
 hatred of the man who had led them into so much 
 trouble in the seventies. There were not wanting 
 those who volunteered to go out and bring Sitting 
 Bull in ; but, lacking orders for the arrest of the man, 
 I could not permit this. 
 
 October 17 I wrote the Department again, giving 
 a history of the ghost-dancing craze on the Standing 
 Rock reservation, and concluding in these words : — 
 
 "Desiring to exhaust all reasonable means before 
 resorting to extremes, I have sent a message to Sitting 
 [199] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 Bull, by One Bull, his nephew, that I want to see him 
 at the agency, and I feel quite confident that I shall 
 succeed in allaying the present excitement and put 
 a stop to this absurd craze for the present at least ; but 
 I would respectfully recommend the removal from the 
 reservation and confinement in some military prison 
 at a distance from the Sioux country, of Sitting Bull 
 and the parties named in my letter of June 18 last." 
 
 In response to this I received, under date of Octo- 
 ber 29, a letter from Acting Commissioner of Indian 
 Affairs, R. V. Belt, directing me to notify Sitting Bull 
 and the other malcontents that the Secretary of the 
 Interior was greatly displeased with their conduct, 
 and to let Sitting Bull understand that he would be 
 held to a strict accountability for the misconduct of 
 any of his followers. 
 
 During the following two weeks agitation was pro- 
 gressing in the outside world and the state of the pub- 
 lic mind was probably represented in the action of 
 the government which resulted in this order by tele- 
 graph : — 
 
 "Washington, Nov. 14, 1890. 
 
 "To McLaughlin, 
 
 "Agent, Standing Rock Agency, — 
 "The President has directed the Secretary of 
 War to assume a military responsibility for the sup- 
 pression of any threatened outbreak among the Sioux 
 Indians, and that an officer of high rank be sent to in- 
 vestigate the situation among them. He suggests that 
 the agents separate the well-disposed from the ill-dis- 
 posed Indians, and, while maintaining their control 
 and discipline, so far as possible to avoid forcing any 
 issue that will result in an outbreak. You will exer- 
 [ 200 ] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 cise wise discretion in carrying out the President's 
 suggestion, carefully observing the caution he directs 
 and avoiding publicity of these instructions. 
 
 "R. V. Belt, 
 "Acting Commissioner." 
 
 At this late day I am frank to say that I feared mili- 
 tary interference with the Indians, not that I doubted 
 the capacity of the military, but because I was con- 
 vinced that a military demonstration would precipitate 
 a collision and bloodshed, which might be avoided. 
 I was on excellent terms with all of the army officers 
 of the Department of Dakota, and Colonel Drum, 
 the commanding officer at Fort Yates, was quite as 
 anxious as I was that Sitting Bull and his lieuten- 
 ants should be quietly removed from the reservation, 
 we continuing to cooperate during the ghost-dancing 
 and up to the time of its culmination. 
 
 Things went on as usual in the Messianic camp, 
 the Indians dancing, with Sitting Bull making medi- 
 cine daily and promising the extermination of the 
 whites, until November 17, when I proceeded, in com- 
 pany with Louis Primeau, a mixed-blood interpreter, 
 to the Grand River, where I was informed a big dance 
 was in progress. At this time Sitting Bull had not been 
 in for his rations for some weeks, which led me to be- 
 lieve that he meant mischief. I had always made it 
 a practice to go unarmed among the Indians, and the 
 fact that I carried no arms that day, and the further 
 fact that I was on excellent terms, personally, with 
 nearly all the Indians, doubtless stood me in good 
 stead. 
 
 I arrived at Sitting Bull's camp about three o'clock 
 [ 201 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 in the afternoon. It was Sunday, and I was not sur- 
 prised to see a large gathering of people in front of 
 the houses, six in number, in the centre of the camp. 
 Many of the Indians had come on a visit, but they 
 had brought their tents with them as though to make 
 a prolonged stay. Having approached the camp by a 
 road not usually traveled, and my coming being un- 
 expected, I found the ghost-dance at its full height. 
 There were about two hundred people standing in a 
 circle about the dancers, and except for a few men 
 who endeavored to avoid being seen by me, I received 
 no attention from the enthusiasts as I approached. 
 But the madness of the dance demonstrated the height 
 of distraction to which the dancers had attained. 
 
 The sacred pole about which the people danced 
 was set some distance from the houses. Around this 
 pole a ring of men, women, boys, and girls, about one 
 hundred in all, were dancing. Some of the younger 
 ones had been pupils of the reservation day-schools 
 until within a few weeks. The dancers held each other's 
 hands, and were all jumping madly, whirling to the 
 left about the pole, keeping time to a mournful croon- 
 ing song, that sometimes rose to a shriek as the women 
 gave way to the stress of their feelings. There was 
 nothing of the slow and precise treading which ordi- 
 narily marks the time of the Indian religious dance. 
 Some of the dancers had thrown off their upper cloth- 
 ing, and all were gasping excitedly; a few who had 
 been dancing for a considerable length of time were 
 completely crazed, with their tongues lolling from 
 their mouths. Occasionally a poor creature, overcome 
 by the fatigue of the exciting dance, would fall out of 
 the ring, which was immediately closed up, and the 
 [ 202 ] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 circling to the left continued, the dancers paying no 
 attention to the fallen one. As I looked on, a middle- 
 aged woman fell out of the circle and rolled to some 
 distance. She was picked up by the shoulders by two 
 Indians, whose trappings indicated that they were 
 oflScers of the dance, and who dragged her to a tepee 
 which I had not noticed before, but which commanded 
 my attention now, for within the wide-open flaps of the 
 wigwam, seated on a sort of throne, was my old friend, 
 Sitting Bull. He was very much thinner than a few 
 weeks previous, but the look he gave me showed that 
 his wits were not dulled or his hatred and envy less- 
 ened by the rigor of his life. By his side, fantastically 
 dressed, stood Bull Ghost, Sitting Bull's mouthpiece 
 in the ghost-dance exercises. Bull Ghost had been 
 rather popular with the whites around the agency, and 
 was familiarly known as ' One-Eyed-Riley,' he having 
 but one eye and that not an attractive orb. 
 
 The woman, still in a swoon, was laid at Sitting 
 Bull's feet, and Bull Ghost announced in a loud voice 
 that she was in a trance and communicating with the 
 ghosts, upon which announcement the dance ceased, 
 so that the dancers might hear the message from the 
 spirit world. Sitting Bull performed certain incanta- 
 tions, then leaned over and put his ear to the woman's 
 lips. He spoke in a low voice to his herald, Bull Ghost, 
 who repeated to the listening multitude the message 
 which Sitting Bull pretended to receive from the un- 
 conscious woman. Sitting Bull had all the tricks of the 
 fake spiritualist. Knowing his people intimately, he 
 knew all about the dead relatives of the woman who 
 had fainted, and he made a tremendous impression 
 on his audience by giving them personal messages 
 [ 203 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 from the Indian ghosts, who announced with great 
 unanimity that they were marching east to join their 
 living kinsmen the following spring. 
 
 The excitement was very intense, the people being 
 brought to a pitch of high nervousness by the treat- 
 ment prescribed by Sitting Bull for his followers. He 
 required that each initiate, as well as those desiring 
 to join the ghost-dancers, take a vapor-bath every 
 morning, and this was accomplished by means of 
 small, closely built lodges, in which the people col- 
 lected, three or four at a time. Outside of the lodge 
 a hole was dug in the ground, in which attendants 
 heated small boulders, and thrust them into the lodge, 
 together with a bucket of water, then closed all open- 
 ings of the wickiup. The hot stones were sprinkled 
 with water, thus creating a hot steam in the small 
 lodge, and during this bath prayers were being sung 
 continually. The bathers remained in the steam- 
 heated tent as long as they could stand it, and were 
 then dragged forth, nearly dead, to be anointed by the 
 medicine man and then permitted to dance until they 
 dropped ; and this daily performance, with very little 
 food, had made them subjects for the madhouse. 
 
 Obviously there would be no sense in attempting 
 to talk to them in their present state, and I drove off 
 to Bull Head's house, three miles away. 
 
 At daylight next morning, I returned to Sitting 
 Bull's camp. It was barely six o'clock when I arrived, 
 Bull Head, Lieutenant of the Indian Police, riding 
 beside the wagon in which Primeau and I rode. The 
 camp was very quiet, but there were figures about the 
 long row of wickiups in which the ghost-dancers were 
 taking their vapor-baths. I entered Sitting Bull's 
 [ 204 ] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 house and found his two wives and four of his chil- 
 dren within. The women, very much excited, said 
 that Sitting Bull was taking a bath, and offered to go 
 and call him. They were told not to disturb him, as I 
 would wait until he had finished his bath ; and after 
 conversing with the family a few minutes, I left the 
 house. As I turned the corner of the building, I came 
 face to face with the old medicine man, who had 
 seen me entering his cabin and came to learn why I 
 was so early abroad. He was naked, but for a breech- 
 cloth and moccasins, and he looked very thin and 
 more subdued than I had ever seen him. He stopped 
 and said, "How." 
 
 "How," said I, and extended my hand, which he 
 took, and I drew him toward the wagon and away 
 from the cabin. He was handed a blanket, which he 
 gathered around him, and stopped, sullen, but not 
 fiercely insolent, as he had been with white people 
 since the dancing had commenced. Other figures 
 crept out of the wickiups in the early morning light 
 and began to gather around us. Sitting Bull said no- 
 thing, and I made up my mind that I would proceed 
 at once to tell him what I had to say before the entire 
 encampment could congregate and disturb us. 
 
 "Look here. Sitting Bull," I began, "I want to 
 know what you mean by your present conduct and 
 utter disregard of department orders. Your preach- 
 ing and practicing of this absurd Messiah doctrine is 
 causing a great deal of uneasiness among the Indians 
 of the reservation, and you should stop it at once." 
 
 He was actually meek, and I thought perhaps he 
 might be sincere in his religious fervor ; but his crafty 
 eye dispelled that idea. Without giving him time to 
 [ 205 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 talk, I recalled all my connection with him and showed 
 him my friendly inclination. I recalled the time when 
 he had sent word to me from Alberta, Canada, by 
 Bishop Marty, to help him make his peace with the 
 authorities before he surrendered ; I reminded him of 
 the talk we had when he was a prisoner on the steamer 
 General Sherman, leaving Fort Yates for Fort Randall 
 in September, 1881, and how he had been given his 
 liberty through following my advice. He mumbled 
 some thanks when I told him of the time he had 
 written to me from Fort Randall, and sent the let- 
 ter by his brother-in-law. Gray Eagle, and adopted 
 brother. Little Assiniboine, in which he had besought 
 me to try and obtain his freedom and have him sent 
 to Standing Rock reservation. And I went on, Indian- 
 like, through the little list of things I had done for 
 him at various times, and wound up by reproaching 
 him for leading the people astray and setting them 
 back for years, besides making it certain that they 
 would all be punished. His eyes flashed, but the old 
 fellow did not break out in a rage as I expected he 
 might. On the contrary he seemed to be impressed 
 at once, and when Yellow Otter's voice rose loud in 
 excited protest, above the sneering of the crowd that 
 had gathered about us, he turned on the speaker and 
 ordered him to be silent. Then he indulged in a ha- 
 rangue. He spoke only of the new faith, and how he 
 believed in it and the good that it would bring to his 
 people. I interrupted him to say that it would bring 
 them all into trouble, and that he well knew it to be 
 rubbish. He grew a little defiant and told me that I 
 knew nothing about it. Then he changed his tune 
 and said : — 
 
 [ 206 ] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 "Father, I will make you a proposition which will 
 settle this question. You go with me to the agencies 
 to the West, and let me seek for the men who saw the 
 Messiah ; and when we find them, I will demand that 
 they show him to us, and if they cannot do so I will 
 return and tell my people it is a lie." 
 
 I told him that such an attempt would be like 
 catching up with the wind that blew last year ; that he 
 should come and spend a night with me at the agency, 
 so that I might convince him of the absurdity of the 
 doctrine he was practicing, through which he was 
 misleading his over-credulous followers. 
 
 This he would not do, but said : — 
 
 "My heart inclines to do what you request, but I 
 must consult my people. I would be willing to go with 
 you now, but I cannot leave without the consent of 
 my people. I will talk to the men to-night, and if they 
 think it advisable I will go to the agency next Satur- 
 day." 
 
 I could get no further promise from him, and drove 
 away, the crowd threatening and sneering, but held 
 in check by the upraised arm of the old medicine man, 
 standing almost naked in the bright but chilly morn- 
 ing sunlight. Our talk had lasted about an hour, and 
 I said nothing to Primeau, who accompanied me, nor 
 did Primeau make any remark as we drove out of the 
 camp, but I know that we both felt more comfortable 
 when we got over a ridge of hills and out of rifle-range 
 of the crazed throng of ghost-dancers. 
 
 That was the last time that I saw Sitting Bull alive, 
 for he sent word by Strikes- the- Kettle the following 
 Saturday that he could not come to the agency, 
 
 I reported this visit to the Department, and, being 
 [ 207 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 quite convinced that Sitting Bull would not come in, I 
 wrote, under date of November 19, recommending that 
 the ghost-dancers be attacked in the weakest point 
 of their religious armor — through their stomachs. 
 My recommendation was that all Indians living on 
 Grand River be notified that those wishing to be 
 known as opposed to the ghost-doctrine, friendly to 
 the government, and desiring the support provided 
 for in the treaty, should report at the agency for en- 
 rollment and be required to encamp near the agency 
 for a few weeks, and that subsistence issues be with- 
 held from those electing to remain on Grand River, 
 continuing their medicine practices in violation of 
 department orders. I was quite confident that such 
 a course would soon have left Sitting Bull with but 
 few followers, as all, or nearly all, would have reported 
 for enrollment and rations, and he would thus have 
 been forced to come in himself. 
 
 I had no doubt then and have none now that, if 
 this suggestion had been adopted, the ghost-dancing 
 would have been broken up, for I knew the Indian 
 well enough to be assured that a material meal would 
 attract him far more effectually than a feast with the 
 ghosts. The suggestion was not oflScially adopted, but 
 events were crowding at Washington, and November 
 20 I received this telegram : — 
 
 "McLaughlin, Agent, — 
 
 "If condition of affairs now and for future re- 
 quires that leaders of excitement or fomenters of dis- 
 turbance should be arrested and confined to insure 
 quiet and good order among Indians, telegraph me 
 names at once, so that assistance of military while 
 < [ 208 ] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 operating to suppress any attempted outbreak may 
 be had to make arrests. 
 
 "R. V. Belt, 
 "Acting Commissioner." 
 
 I wired the names of the men whose arrest I had 
 suggested the preceding June, adding the names of 
 Iron White Man and Male Bear, but added that I 
 thought it imprudent to attempt making the desired 
 arrests at that time, and invited attention to my sug- 
 gestion of the 19th. 
 
 At that time the situation was well in hand, and if 
 I could have chosen the time I could have arrested 
 Sitting Bull without bloodshed. The plan was simple 
 enough, it being the custom of the Indians of the en- 
 tire reservation to congregate at the agency once every 
 two weeks (every alternate Saturday) , to receive their 
 rations, and on these issue-days Sitting Bull was 
 practically alone at his camp on Grand River, forty 
 miles from the agency. The police, under Lieutenant 
 Bull Head, were absolutely to be depended upon and 
 willing to do anything that would promote order. 
 Lieutenant Bull Head, who lived about three miles 
 west of the ghost-dance camp, was watching Sitting 
 Bull and his followers and kept them under strict 
 surveillance. The old chief could make no move that 
 could not be anticipated, and the arrest could be made 
 without difficulty, unless trouble was precipitated 
 from the outside. And the threat came on us like a 
 bolt from the blue, and though bloodshed was averted 
 for the moment, I knew that affairs might get beyond 
 control at any time. 
 
 The threat took form in Colonel William F. Cody 
 [ 209 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 (Buffalo Bill), who arrived at the agency on Novem- 
 ber 28, with an order signed by General Miles, then 
 division commander, directing military officers to 
 supply Colonel Cody with whatever assistance was 
 necessary in arresting Sitting Bull. It was not my af- 
 fair, but I felt that I was responsible for the conduct 
 of the Indians, and I knew that any attempt by out- 
 side parties to arrest Sitting Bull would undoubtedly 
 result in loss of life, as the temper of the ghost-dancers 
 was not to be doubted. And upon Colonel Cody's 
 arrival at the agency I sent the following telegram to 
 Washington : — 
 
 "Commissioner of Indian Affairs, — 
 
 " William F. Cody (Buffalo Bill) has arrived here 
 with commission from Gen. Miles to arrest Sitting 
 Bull. Such a step at present is unnecessary and unwise, 
 as it will precipitate a fight which can be averted. A 
 few Indians still dancing, but it does not mean mis- 
 chief at present. I have matters well in hand, and 
 when proper time arrives can arrest Sitting Bull by 
 Indian police without bloodshed. I ask attention to 
 my letter of November 19. Request Gen. Miles's 
 order to Cody be rescinded and request immediate 
 answer. 
 
 "McLaughlin, Agent." 
 
 I felt that I was justified in asking that the order 
 of a general of division, who was not on the ground, 
 should be rescinded. It was a bold step to take, but 
 I could see nothing else to do. And I was still con- 
 vinced that the arrest would be bloodless only if made 
 on ration-day. The morning after Colonel Cody's 
 [ 210 ] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 arrival he left the agency with a civilian escort for 
 Sitting Bull's camp before any reply had been received 
 to my telegram of the previous day. I had no disposi- 
 tion to interpose my feeble authority to that of the 
 military, on the contrary I had been cooperating fully 
 with Colonel Drum, the commandant at Fort Yates ; 
 but my telegram saved to the world that day a royal 
 good fellow and most excellent showman, for General 
 Miles's order was rescinded by telegraph, and Buffalo 
 Bill was overtaken with the message and turned back 
 before he reached Grand River. 
 
 The Buffalo Bill incident was hardly disposed of 
 before it was made clear that the future operations 
 against the ghost-dancers were to be carried on at the 
 direction of the military arm, and on December 1, 1 
 received this telegram : — 
 
 *' Washington, Dec. 1. 
 
 "McLaughlin, Agent, 
 " Standing Rock, — 
 " By direction of the Secretary, during the present 
 Indian troubles, you are instructed that while you 
 shall continue all the business and carry into effect 
 the educational and other purposes of your agency, 
 you will, as to all operations intended to suppress any 
 outbreak by force, cooperate with and obey the orders 
 of the military oflScers commanding on the reservation 
 in your charge. 
 
 "R. V. Belt, 
 "Acting Commissioner." 
 
 It was evident that the military intended to arrest 
 Sitting Bull, and I still had it in my mind that if I 
 could make provision to make the arrest by the In- 
 [211] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 dian police, at an opportune time and in my own way, 
 there would be no necessity for shedding blood. I 
 was absolutely convinced that, unless the arrest was 
 made by surprise, there would be trouble. I tele- 
 graphed the commissioner December 6, again, ask- 
 ing if I was authorized to arrest Sitting Bull when I 
 thought best, and got this reply : — 
 
 "Washington, Dec. 6. 
 
 ** McLaughlin, Agent, — 
 
 "Replying to your telegram of this date, Secretary 
 directs that you make no arrests whatever, except 
 under orders of the military, or upon an order from 
 the Secretary of the Interior. 
 
 "R. V. Belt, 
 •^ "Acting Commissioner." 
 
 General Ruger, then in command of the Depart- 
 ment of Dakota, showed the utmost good-will and 
 a desire to cooperate with the agency people, as the 
 following telegram, referring to a message sent by him 
 to Colonel Drum, the commanding officer at Fort 
 Yates, demonstrates : — 
 
 "St. Paul, Minn., Dec. 6. 
 
 " U. S. Indian Agent, James McLaughlin, — 
 
 "Referring to telegram sent to Col. Drum, which 
 he will show you, is there any change of condition re- 
 cently which makes present action specially necessary ? 
 As you know I am disposed to support you. Some 
 prior movements I would like to see completed. 
 
 "Ruger, 
 "Brigadier General, Commanding." 
 [ 212 ] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 In reply I telegraphed General Ruger that there 
 had been no material change in conditions; that the 
 police could keep Sitting Bull on the reservation and 
 arrest him when necessary, but that there was no 
 urgent need for action. It was too late for action that 
 day — which was beef- ration day — and I was still 
 minded to stick to my original proposition that the 
 arrest should be made while Sitting Bull was practi- 
 cally alone at his camp. He had not been in for his 
 rations since October 25. The dancing was still go- 
 ing on, with cold weather — so usual at that season 
 of the year, and which might have been depended on 
 to cool the ardor of the dancers — still holding off. 
 
 Sitting Bull was in constant communication with 
 the Southern Sioux agencies, and it was becoming 
 very certain that he was going to attempt to leave the 
 reservation, and his escape had to be guarded against. 
 The disaffected Indians at the agencies along the Mis- 
 souri River, as well as those of Rosebud and Pine 
 Ridge, would see in him a leader they might follow 
 to a desperate purpose, and I was not going to permit 
 him to decamp. In the Bad Lands there was gathered 
 a considerable mass of Indians, eighteen hundred hav- 
 ing stampeded from their homes when General Brook 
 arrived at Pine Ridge with five companies of infantry 
 and three troops of cavalry, part of which force he de- 
 tached and sent to Rosebud. Big Foot and his band 
 escaped after arrest by the military on the Cheyenne 
 River reservation. Obviously it would not do to allow 
 so cunning and malignant a leader as Sitting Bull to 
 put himself at the head of these frightened or des- 
 perate people. There is no doubt that many of the 
 Indians who had taken to the Bad Lands were simply 
 [213] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 frightened by the presence of the troops. But they 
 were also tremendously excited, and in their stam- 
 pede and flight destroyed much property belonging 
 to themselves and others. I knew that Sitting Bull 
 contemplated putting himself at the head of the fugi- 
 tives, and that those who were merely frightened 
 would soon be turned or coerced to acts of hostility 
 under his guidance. 
 
 Ninety per cent of the Standing Rock Indians con- 
 tinued loyal, the police were devoted and vigilant, and 
 only the Sitting Bull following gave promise of trouble. 
 
 December 12 came the order for the arrest of Sit- 
 ting Bull. It was in the form of a cipher telegram and 
 follows, translated : — 
 
 "To Commanding Officer, 
 " Fort Yates, N. D., — 
 "The division commander has directed that you 
 make it your especial duty to secure the person of 
 Sitting Bull. Call on Indian agent to cooperate and 
 render such assistance as will best promote the pur- 
 pose in view. Acknowledge receipt, and if not per- 
 fectly clear, repeat back. 
 
 "M. Barber, 
 "Assistant Adjutant General. 
 
 "Department op Dakota, 
 "St. Paul, Minn., Dec. 12, 1890." 
 
 Colonel Drum furnished me with a copy of the or- 
 der, and upon conferring with him in reference to the 
 arrest, we fully agreed on the course of procedure. 
 Colonel Drum was quite of the same mind that I 
 was about the necessity for making the arrest while 
 [214] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Sitting Bull's camp was practically deserted ; that it 
 should be made by the Indian police, with the mili- 
 tary supporting at a convenient distance, to aid the 
 police in case of attempted rescue, and it was finally 
 determined that the arrest should be made on the 
 next ration-day, December 20, unless it was precipi- 
 tated by Sitting Bull trying to leave the reservation. 
 Lieutenant Bull Head, of the Indian police, who 
 lived, as I have said, about three miles west of the 
 ghost-dance camp, was given charge of the duty of 
 keeping Sitting Bull under surveillance, with orders in- 
 stantly to report any suspicious movements. He chose 
 for his assistant First Sergeant Shave Head, a stout- 
 hearted and intelligent man who could be depended 
 upon in any emergency. They were to hold a con- 
 siderable force of Indian police on the Grand River, 
 adjacent to Sitting Bull's camp, and Sergeant Eagle- 
 man was sent with eight additional policemen to Oak 
 Creek, twenty miles south of the agency, that they 
 might be within supporting distance if needed by the 
 force on Grand River. 
 
 About six o'clock in the evening of December 13, 
 Bull Ghost came into the agency with a letter to me 
 from Sitting Bull, his last utterance, full of defiance 
 and implied threats, but so incoherent as to be diffi- 
 cult to understand. It was written by Andrew Fox, 
 Sitting Bull's son-in-law, who could speak English 
 and write a little. It was addressed, " The Major at 
 the Indian office." 
 
 These portions I could decipher : — 
 
 " I had a meeting with all my Indians to-day and am 
 writing this order to you. . . . God made the red 
 [215] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 race and the white, but the white higher. ... I wish 
 no one to come to me in my prayers with gun or knife. 
 . . . And you, my friend, to-day you think I am foil 
 [fool] and you tell some of the wise men among my 
 people ... so you don't like me. ... I don't like 
 myself, my friend, when some one is foil. . . . You 
 think if I am not here the Indians is civilization. . . . 
 Also I will let you know something. I got to go to Pine 
 Ridge agency, and to know this pray. So I let you 
 know that and the policeman told me that you going 
 to take all our ponies, guns too. So I want to let you 
 know this. I want answer back soon. 
 
 "Sitting Bull." 
 
 While Sitting Bull was having this letter written, he 
 was preparing to leave the reservation and his horses 
 had been brought in. On the 14th, in the afternoon, 
 special policeman Hawk Man brought me a letter 
 from Bull Head, dated at Grand River at 12.50 a.m., 
 and written by John M. Carignan, then teacher at the 
 Grand River day-school, now manager of a trader's 
 store at Fort Yates, informing me that Sitting Bull was 
 getting ready to leave the reservation and action must 
 be taken at once; that his horses had been doing 
 nothing for several weeks, being well fed all the time; 
 and that, being thus better mounted than the Indian 
 police, if he got started, they would be unable to over- 
 take the party or prevent them from reaching the Bad 
 Lands, where the main body of the disaffected Sioux 
 had congregated. Colonel Drum, the post commander, 
 having seen the courier passing his quarters, and 
 being anxious to learn the latest news from the Sitting 
 Bull camp, came into my office while I was reading 
 [216] 
 
LIKITEXANT 141 LL HEAD IX INlJlA.N ( USTIMK 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 the letter, and upon being informed of its contents 
 concluded that the arrest should be made the next 
 morning. I was anxious that the arrest should be 
 made by the police, because otherwise it was not pos- 
 sible without bloodshed; and for the further reason 
 that the arrest being made by the police would have a 
 salutary effect upon the Indians in general. Colonel 
 Drum heartily agreed with me in this view of the case, 
 and it was determined that two troops of the Eighth 
 Cavalry, numbering one hundred men, with Captain 
 E. G. Fechet in command, should leave Fort Yates at 
 midnight in order to arrive at the Oak Creek crossing 
 of the Sitting Bull road by 6.30 of the 15th, to support 
 the police if necessary ; and before Colonel Drum left 
 my office, I wrote the following letter in English, with 
 a translation of it in Sioux, ordering the arrest of 
 Sitting Bull, which I sent to Lieutenant Bull Head by 
 Second Sergeant Red Tomahawk. 
 
 "Standing Rock Agency, N.D., 
 "Dec. 14, 1890. 
 
 "Lieut. Bull Head, or Sergt. Shave Head, 
 "Grand River, — 
 *'From reports brought by Scout Hawk Man I 
 believe that the time has arrived for the arrest of 
 Sitting Bull and that it can be made by the Indian 
 police without much risk. I therefore desire you to 
 make the arrest before daylight to-morrow morning, 
 and try and get back to the Sitting Bull road cross- 
 ing of Oak Creek by daylight to-morrow morning 
 or as soon thereafter as possible. The Cavalry will 
 leave to-night and reach the Sitting Bull crossing of 
 Oak Creek before daylight to-morrow morning (Mon- 
 [217] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 day), where they will remain until they hear from 
 you. 
 
 " Louis Primeau will accompany the Cavalry com- 
 mand as guide, and I desire you to send a messenger 
 to the Cavalry as soon as you can after making the 
 arrest, so that the troops may know how to act in 
 aiding you or preventing any attempt of his followers 
 from rescuing him. 
 
 "I have ordered all the police at Oak Creek to 
 proceed to Carignan's school and await your orders. 
 This gives you a force of forty-two policemen for the 
 arrest. 
 
 "Very respectfully, 
 
 "James McLaughlin, 
 "U. S. Indian Agent. 
 
 " P. S. You must not let him escape under any cir- 
 cumstances." 
 
 These orders, in duplicate, were, as before stated, 
 given to Sergeant Red Tomahawk, a man who could 
 be depended upon to get through with them, and who 
 did so and signally distinguished himself the next 
 morning. The verbal instructions given Red Toma- 
 hawk as to assembling the scattered detachments of 
 the Indian police were complete. 
 
 Thirty-nine regular policemen and four specials, 
 under Bull Head and Shave Head, rode into the Sitting 
 Bull camp at early dawn the next morning. Some of 
 the men had traveled immense distances to rendez- 
 vous at the home of Lieutenant Bull Head, and all 
 were firmly determined to make the arrest. Sitting 
 Bull's band lived in houses stretching along the Grand 
 [218] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 River for a distance of four or five miles. About the 
 home of the chief, consisting of two houses and a cor- 
 ral, there were a half-dozen log-cabins of good size. 
 Many of the houses were deserted, the Indians having 
 been engaged in dancing the greater part of the pre- 
 vious night. The entrance of the policemen awakened 
 the camp, but they saw no one, as Bull Head wheeled 
 his men between the Sitting Bull houses and ordered 
 them to dismount. Ten policemen, headed by Bull 
 Head and Shave Head, entered one of the houses, 
 eight policemen the other. In the house entered by 
 Bull Head's party they found the old medicine man, 
 his two wives, and Crow Foot his son, a youth of sev- 
 enteen years. 
 
 The women were very much frightened and began 
 to cry. Sitting Bull sat up and asked what was the 
 matter. 
 
 " You are under arrest and must go to the agency," 
 said Bull Head. 
 
 ** Very well," said Sitting Bull, " I will go with you." 
 And he told one of his wives to go to the other house 
 and bring him his best clothes. He showed no concern 
 at his arrest, but evidently wanted to make a good 
 impression and dressed himself with some care. He 
 had also asked that his best horse, a gray one, be sad- 
 dled, and an Indian policeman had the animal at the 
 door by the time Sitting Bull was dressed and ready 
 to leave. 
 
 There had been no trouble in the house, and the 
 police, when they walked out, were surprised at the 
 extent of the demonstration. They came out of the 
 building in a little knot. Bull Head on one side of 
 Sitting Bull, Shave Head on the other, and Red Toma- 
 [ 219 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 hawk directly behind. They had been twenty minutes 
 or more in Sitting Bull's house, and it was in the gray 
 of the morning when they came out. They stepped 
 out into a mass of greatly excited ghost-dancers, nearly 
 all armed and crowding about the main body of the 
 police, who had held the way clear at the door. As 
 Sitting Bull stepped out with his captors he walked 
 directly toward the horse, with the evident intention of 
 mounting and accompanying the police. He was some 
 distance from the door when his son. Crow Foot, see- 
 ing that the old man intended to make no resistance, 
 began to revile him : — 
 
 " You call yourself a brave man and you have de- 
 clared that you would never surrender to a blue-coat, 
 and now you give yourself up to Indians in blue uni- 
 forms," the young man shouted. 
 
 The taunt hit Sitting Bull hard. He looked into the 
 mass of dark, excited faces, and commenced to talk 
 volubly and shrilly, and there was a menacing move- 
 ment in the crowd. 
 
 The last moment of Sitting Bull's life showed him 
 in a better light, so far as physical courage goes, than 
 all the rest of it. He looked about him and saw his 
 faithful adherents — about one hundred and sixty 
 crazed ghost-dancers — who would have gone through 
 fire at his bidding ; to submit to arrest meant the end 
 of his power and his probable imprisonment ; he had 
 sure news from Pine Ridge that he, only, was needed 
 to head the hostiles there in a war of extermination 
 against the white settlers. He made up his mind to 
 take his chance, and screamed out an order to his 
 people to attack the police. 
 
 Instantly Catch-the-Bear and Strikes- the- Kettle, 
 [ 220 ] 
 
THE DEATH OF SITTING BULL 
 
 who were in the front rank of the crowd, fired at point- 
 blank range, Catch-the-Bear mortally wounding First 
 Lieutenant Bull Head, and Strikes-the- Kettle shooting 
 First Sergeant Shave Head in the abdomen. Lieu- 
 tenant Bull Head was a few yards to the left and front 
 of Sitting Bull when hit, and immediately wheeling, 
 he shot Sitting Bull through the body, and at the same 
 instant Second Sergeant Red Tomahawk, who with 
 revolver in hand was rear-guard, shot him in the 
 right cheek, killing him instantly ; the lieutenant, the 
 first sergeant, and Sitting Bull falling together. 
 
 Sitting Bull's medicine had not saved him, and the 
 shot that killed him put a stop forever to the domi- 
 nation of the ancient regime among the Sioux of the 
 Standing Rock reservation. 
 
 The tale of the bloody fight that ensued has been 
 told, and the world knows how those thirty-nine 
 Indian policemen, with four of their relatives who 
 volunteered to accompany them, — a total of forty- 
 three in all, — fought off one hundred and sixty 
 ghost-dancers, eight of whom were killed and five 
 wounded; how second Sergeant Red Tomahawk, 
 after the two higher ranking police officers had been 
 mortally wounded, took command and drove the In- 
 dians to the timber; how Hawk Man No. 1 ran 
 through a hail of bullets to get the news to the cavalry 
 detachment, and how six faithful friends of the whites, 
 policemen of the Standing Rock reservation, laid 
 down their lives in doing their duty that morning. 
 Two days later, on December 17, 1900, we buried 
 Shave Head and four other Indian policemen with 
 military honors in the cemetery at Standing Rock, 
 [ 221 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 and, while Captain Miner's entire company of the 
 Twenty-Second U. S. Infantry fired three volleys over 
 the graves of these red heroes, and a great concourse 
 of the Sioux of the reservation stood in the chill bright 
 sunlight of a fair winter's day, mourning aloud for 
 their dead, I quietly left the enclosure and joined a 
 little burial-party in the military cemetery at Fort 
 Yates, situated about five hundred yards south of the 
 agency cemetery. Four military prisoners dug the 
 grave, and in the presence of A. R. Chapin, Assistant 
 Surgeon, U. S. A., H. M. Deeble, Acting Assistant 
 Surgeon, U. S. A., Lieutenant P. G. Wood, U. S. A., 
 Post Quartermaster, now Brigadier General, retired, 
 and myself, the body of Sitting Bull, wrapped in 
 canvas and placed in a coflBn, was lowered into the 
 grave. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 HOW THE INDIAN GETS HIS NAME 
 
 A Queer System of Nomenclature which gives the Red Man some 
 
 Untranslatable Titles. 
 
 WHEN Rain-in-the-Face was but a brown- 
 skinned mite, the mother of the mite set 
 him up in the shade of a tree while she got 
 ready the midday meal of her lord, the father of Rain- 
 in-the-Face. The boy baby was strapped to a board, 
 his small body embedded in the fuzz of the cat- tails and 
 wound about with the skin of a deer. Erect and stiff, 
 but comfortable enough, the boy lay, dodging his 
 head that he might see past the hooped bough that 
 was bent over his face so that he might not be marred 
 in his looks if he should fall. And as he looked at the 
 sky and communed, after the fashion of Sioux babies, 
 with the spirits of the other world, the thunder-bird 
 settled in the limb of a nearby tree and a shower fell. 
 The mother, engaged in her domestic work, forgot the 
 child for the moment, and a neighbor ran into the 
 tepee to tell her it had rained in the face of her baby. 
 The mother seized the strapped youngster and bore 
 him into the tent, chattering endearments after the 
 fashion of Sioux mothers, and wiped the moisture 
 from the face of the little round-eyed baby with the 
 palm of her brown hand. The father of the child 
 looked up from his reclining-place, fashioned of 
 withes and fastened to two uprights and then to 
 r 223 1 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 pegs in the ground, — a most comfortable easy-chair, 
 — and said : — 
 
 "It is a sign. Let him be called Rain-in-the-Face." 
 
 The soft Sioux syllables in which the name of the 
 child was pronounced may not be rendered in vulgar 
 English, but they sounded good to the mother, and 
 the father, proud of his inventive inspiration, pro- 
 claimed the boy's name and made a feast, as he had 
 on other occasions when he named the five brothers 
 who had preceded Rain-in-the-Face into the world, 
 and who called him father, but who were not all nur- 
 tured at the same mother's breast. 
 
 Thus it was that so trivial a thing as a summer 
 shower gave to a chief of the Hunkpapa Sioux a name 
 that is not unknown, and there was, until September, 
 1905, an old man sitting by the door of his house on 
 the Standing Rock reservation who would answer to 
 the name and say that many great men of the white 
 race called him friend — which was true enough, for, 
 since the Sioux put away the tomahawk and forgot 
 the warpath, their head men and chiefs have come 
 to be highly regarded by the sub-chiefs of the Great 
 Father. 
 
 Indian nomenclature has always had a fascination 
 for the English-speaking people of this country, and 
 has afforded a fine field for the smaller wits. The boys 
 of a generation ago will remember how they rolled 
 with boyish relish the names of the redskin heroes. Red 
 Horse, Blue Dog, and Ghost -that -comes -Out, on 
 their tongues, and felt that worthies with such names 
 must needs be famous warriors. Later in life they 
 came to conceive the idea that these appellations 
 were born of the imagination of the novel-writer. As 
 [ 224 ] 
 
HOW THE INDIAN GETS HIS NAME 
 
 a matter of fact, the names are common enough, and 
 there have undoubtedly been many Red Horses and 
 Blue Dogs among the Indians. As for the varia- 
 tions on Ghost, they are so manifold as to be quite 
 without the possibility of enumeration. White Ghost, 
 Gray Ghost, Bull's Ghost, and Ghost-that- Runs are 
 Sioux names that have been attached to official papers, 
 and it is to be expected that Ghost should be common 
 enough in the designation of a people who frequently 
 take their names from dreams and who dream much 
 of the shadowy people who have gone before. 
 
 But the commoner names of Indians generally have 
 reference to personal attributes or achievements or 
 experiences. It does not follow that the constant 
 recurrence of the use of animal names has direct ref- 
 erence to the constant engagement of Indians in the 
 chase. Ordinarily the use of the designation of the 
 bear or the eagle or the horse is the house, or family, 
 totem. A family will take for its totem the bear or 
 the beaver, and to that house the animal so chosen 
 is sacred, and the members of the family are recog- 
 nized as belonging to the particular clan indicated. 
 It was customary to use this family or house designa- 
 tion as a part of the cognomen, however, and the prac- 
 tice of avoiding mention of the personal name in the 
 presence of the individual bearing it, is undoubtedly 
 the reason for the common use of the terms brother, 
 father, mother, among persons not at all related. 
 This latter practice has led to a queer jumbling of the 
 degrees of relationship, and the Indian of to-day even 
 will call his cousin his brother or his sister, and any 
 person whom he holds in particular esteem, his father, 
 or mother. A great deal of trouble has been met in 
 [ 225 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 establishing actual relationship by reason of this cus- 
 tom. 
 
 It is not an uncommon thing for an Indian to bear 
 during different periods of his life several names, as 
 progressive events dominate his experiences. Among 
 the Sioux it is a common practice to call the first-born, 
 if a son, Caska (Chaska), or Winona, if a daughter, 
 and designate additions to the family in the numeri- 
 cal order of their arrival. In the bestowal of these in- 
 fantile names there is no ceremony, and many youth- 
 ful Indians have struggled through early life without 
 any sort of name, except the designation of the son 
 or daughter of So-and-So when occasion required. 
 
 The bestowal of names among those Indians who 
 used a common designation was formerly accompanied 
 by a religious ceremonial and dance, but the practice 
 has fallen into disuse. Among the Sioux there is no 
 family patronymic whatever and it is conceivable 
 that the greatest difficulty will be had in tracing fami- 
 lies with a view to determining what designation shall 
 be given members of one house. The work of giving 
 the Sioux fixed and official names is now going on, and 
 wide latitude is taken by the enrolling official. I do 
 not know of a better example of the difficulty presented 
 than in the case of the family of brothers to which 
 Rain-In-The-Face belonged. There were six brothers 
 in the family, and the name of the grandfather of these 
 worthies is already lost in the mists of Indian an- 
 tiquity — which is a mere matter of yesterday. The 
 eldest of the brothers was Bear's Face ; the others, in 
 the order of seniority, were Red Thunder, Iron Horn, 
 Little Bear, Rain-in-the-Face, and Shave Head. 
 They were men of prominence, and each one of them 
 [ 226 ] 
 
KAIN-IN-THE-FACE 
 
HOW THE INDIAN GETS HIS NAME 
 
 who left children will be regarded as the founder of 
 a family, and his children will carry his name with 
 a prefix, as John Bear's Face, Mary Red Thunder, 
 Charles Shave Head. It is optional with the official 
 making the new enrollment to take the more appro- 
 priate or euphonious of the names of the brothers and 
 make that the family name, — obviously a difficult 
 matter in the case of these kindred families, each head 
 being entitled to consideration as the founder of a dis- 
 tinct house, and there being nothing particularly eu- 
 phonious in the English rendition of any of the names. 
 
 Many years ago, seeing the necessity for giving the 
 people living at Standing Rock family designations, 
 I undertook, as agent, the work that has recently been 
 taken up by the Indian office. The Indians took kindly 
 enough to the official designations given them arbi- 
 trarily but in accord with good sense. Gray Eagle, 
 for instance, had several children. I gave those of 
 them who did not possess a baptismal name an Eng- 
 lish name, then wrote the father's name in one word, 
 Grayeagle, and the thing was done. And this practice 
 I put into effect generally, retaining the English trans- 
 lation of the Indian name and making one word of it 
 wherever possible. The rolls at Standing Rock agency 
 were found to be practically complete when the en- 
 rolling official began his work there, the people being 
 enrolled as families. 
 
 The utter impossibility of adhering to the English 
 rendition of many of the Indian names is obvious 
 enough, but in these cases it is nearly always possible 
 to adopt the Sioux version, or some contraction of it 
 that will serve to preserve a suggestion of the origin 
 and retain in its proper place some reminiscence of the 
 [ 227 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 peculiar structure of the Indian nomenclature. It 
 would be nothing less than an outrage to impose ar- 
 bitrarily the name of Sam Jones upon a man whose 
 father had distinguished himself as Young- Man- 
 Afraid-of-His-Horses ; still, the impossibility of retain- 
 ing the English form of the Indian name is plain, — 
 Tasunka-Kokipapi, the Sioux rendition of the name, 
 being vastly different in its meaning from the translated 
 form, and some contraction of it might be retained. 
 
 And this brings me to one feature of the Indian no- 
 menclature that is worthy of attention — the mislead- 
 ing character of the translations. Tasunka-Kokipapi 
 is by no means to be rendered " Young- Man- Afraid- 
 -of-his-Horses. " I do not know that the translator 
 could have gone much further astray from the mean- 
 ing of the name, if he had tried. The name implies 
 a tribute of great esteem on the part of the Indian 
 for the man who bore it, the meaning of Tasunka- 
 Kokipapi indicating one whose capacity in battle was 
 such that the mere sight of his horses inspired fear 
 in his enemies. Many of the Indian names are quite 
 as far removed in their original application from the 
 meaning conveyed by the translation as the appella- 
 tion cited. 
 
 The simplest events and the most remote and least 
 understood manifestations of nature, personal attri- 
 butes of mind and the most vulgar of actions, physical 
 beauty and physical prowess, all these are drawn upon 
 to supply the Indians with names ; yet the variety and 
 appositeness of meaning of the names proves the pos- 
 session of an imagination that does not suffer by com- 
 parison with that of the cultured races. The vulgarity 
 of many of the appellations is in the translation only, 
 [ 228 ] 
 
HOW THE INDIAN GETS HIS NAME 
 
 though the Indian is rather prone to call a spade a 
 spade. It is worthy of note, too, that the names of 
 women, with which the English-speaking people are 
 not so familiar as with the names of men, are quite 
 frequently indicative of a poetic fancy and contain 
 real beauty. And this is almost directly traceable 
 to the fact that the translations have been made by 
 teachers in the boarding-schools, sisters of the mis- 
 sion teaching- staff, or women teachers in the other 
 schools. There is a range of fancy that bespeaks lov- 
 ing care or inspiration in the selection of the name of 
 Beautiful- Voiced Antelope, and it rather jolted my 
 fancy when I found that the lady so designated was 
 fated to be styled on the rolls of the white man as Mrs. 
 Bad Bull. 
 
 It is a regrettable fact that many of the women who 
 enjoy names the mere mention of which suggests 
 feminine daintiness, do not look the part suggested 
 by the name. One of the least prepossessing of the 
 Indian women in my recollection was called Beautiful 
 Fawn. On the other hand, there is real appreciation 
 — in the Indian method of expression — in the name 
 given a woman of the Hunkpapa, Beautiful White 
 Cow. She must have been a fine-looking woman in 
 her youth, but she is Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull now, 
 and there is no incongruity between her name and 
 her position as a widow. 
 
 Obviously the names of the women are applied in 
 a complimentary sense. They very rarely suggest an 
 event, but nearly always indicate an attribute, poetic 
 or other, and suggest a very warm imagination and 
 wide license on the part of the sponsor. There was at 
 Devils Lake agency, in my time, a man called Beau- 
 [ 229 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 tiful-Voice-at-the- Water. He came by the name by 
 reason of the fact that, as a child, he was given to de- 
 claring that he could hear a voice calling him from 
 the lake — and no Indian would think of disputing 
 anything in the line of the supernatural regarding Dev- 
 ils Lake, its waters, and the mysterious country sur- 
 rounding it. The place teemed with mystic sounds, 
 symbols, and signs for the Indians. A certain poverty 
 in the English rendition spoils the poetry of the Indian 
 feminine name, because many of them are necessarily 
 translated with the prefix of "beautiful" or "pretty," 
 neither word quite conveying the meaning of the va- 
 riously applied "was- te" (pronounced washta). Pretty 
 Day, Pretty Dawn, and Pretty Star are English ver- 
 sions of names that really mean a great deal more than 
 is conveyed by the inane word "pretty." 
 
 In the soft accents of the Sioux syllables there is 
 much beauty when their accents are accommodated 
 to pronounce the name of a woman, and it is to be 
 hoped that the Indian names will be preserved so far 
 as possible in fixing the designations of the copper- 
 colored clubwomen of the future. Of the names purely 
 fanciful, or having an exaggerated poetic suggestion, 
 I know of few more truly feminine than Mini-ate-ho- 
 waste-win. Beautiful- Voice-at-the- Water, and I would 
 register now a protest against the corruption of this 
 into the almost inevitable Minnie. Wiyan- Waste 
 sounds in the Sioux as though it might describe a 
 pretty woman, and it is literally, "Pretty Woman," 
 a common enough name. Tipi- Waste- Win is a tribute 
 to the woman's housewifery and means Pretty Lodge- 
 Woman. An appreciation of an ornament belonging 
 to a girl might readily procure for her a name — as 
 [ 230 ] 
 
HOW THE INDIAN GETS HIS NAME 
 
 in the case of Pompeska- Waste- Win, Pretty Shell- 
 Woman ; and a girl who was a " cute" baby was given 
 the name of Onk-to-mi-Ska-win, White Spider. There 
 is a poverty of imagination suggested in the name of 
 Scarlet Day, applied to a woman, but it is not a rare 
 designation, though it sounds much better in the 
 Sioux — An-patu-Duta-win. The name arose from 
 the fact that the bearer of it was first called Day, and 
 then given the qualification because the sponsor was 
 desirous of conveying the idea that the child w^as 
 lovely — scarlet being the most highly prized of the 
 colors and calculated to gladden the eye. That the 
 Indian did not always condescend to frivolous compli- 
 ment in naming his female relatives is demonstrated 
 by the fact that the name Wamb-duska is common 
 enough and is not nearly so pretty as the sound might 
 imply, meaning Snake. 
 
 Sitting Bull came by his name, as previously stated, 
 by right of succession and by a means not rare. He 
 was called as a boy Jumping Badger, his father's 
 name being Sitting Bull. While still a boy he distin- 
 guished himself in the field, and his father, making 
 a feast, solemnly transferred his name to his hopeful 
 son. This feast incidental to the bestowal of a name 
 is one of the features of the social life of the Indian. 
 Any Indian will regard it a mark of distinction to 
 be invited to give a name to his neighbor's child. I 
 have not observed that there is any ceremonial rite 
 attaching to the function ; it is simply a gathering of 
 the families at a feast, and the bestowal of the child's 
 name is merely an incident to the feast. Speaking of 
 Sitting Bull reminds me, somehow, of the name of a 
 man of good heart and distinguished title, — Shell 
 [231 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 King, Pompeska-yatapi, and how fortune frequently 
 favored Sitting Bull, even as it did when he won the 
 right to bear his father's name by his sharpness. 
 
 Shell King was a man of prominence at Standing 
 Rock agency, and stood opposed to the baneful in- 
 fluence of Sitting Bull. He had been out with the 
 hostile chief, but had left him, and came in under 
 Crow King. One day, after the return of Sitting Bull 
 from his imprisonment at Fort Randall, in the spring 
 of 1884, Shell King met Sitting Bull in my office at the 
 agency. Sitting Bull was inclined to sneer at Shell 
 King for the latter's evident disposition to behave him- 
 self. He jeered at him for so easily adapting himself 
 to the ways of the white man and doing the bidding 
 of the officials. Shell King retorted in a fashion that 
 astonished me and awed the listening Indians. He 
 told Sitting Bull that he was a coward and that he had 
 led his people into misfortune, causing them the loss 
 of their arms and horses, and many hardships he 
 charged to him ; adding that the days of his dominion 
 were over and that the people might act as they liked 
 without consulting him. This defense elicited mys- 
 terious threats from Sitting Bull. Ten days later Shell 
 King and one of his sons were killed by lightning, and 
 the event had a tremendous effect in restoring the 
 waning prestige of the old medicine chief, to whose 
 influence it was credited. 
 
 Grass, the name of the ablest orator and most in- 
 fluential surviving chief of the Sioux, is the hereditary 
 patronymic of a line of chieftains. The line will die 
 out with the present possessor of the name, John 
 Grass, who has no sons living, — his son, young 
 John Grass, who was a bright young man, having died 
 [ 232 ] 
 
HOW THE INDIAN GETS HIS NAME 
 
 some years ago when about twenty-eight years of age. 
 Grass, the father of the present John Grass, was a 
 chief of the Blackfeet Sioux and a man of wide in- 
 fluence. He was a friend to the whites always and was 
 himself a chief by descent. The headship of the band 
 went to his eldest son, and to him the army officers 
 gave the Christian name of John, so long ago that it 
 was fixed upon him long before I became acquainted 
 with the man. The Indian version of Grass is Piji, 
 and John Grass is so called by his people. 
 
 Gall, the warrior chief of the Hunkpapas, was 
 called Pizi, literally Gall. The meaning of the name 
 was misconceived by the earlier translators, and when 
 I knew him first his name was written by the whites 
 as Gaul. This I corrected. He got the name as a 
 boy, his mother bestowing it when she found him one 
 day eking out his uncommon short rations by dis- 
 cussing the gall of the animal killed by one of their 
 neighbors. 
 
 Whatever of distinction attaches to the name of 
 Gall was attained by himself, who led the fighting 
 men of the Sioux at the battle of the Little Big Horn. 
 Gall's paternity was not distinguished, and he was 
 a waif, brought up in the lodges of his people by a 
 widowed mother. He became a chief by force of his 
 personality. 
 
 Big Head, a man of some distinction among his 
 people, will suffer in history by reason of the weak- 
 ness of the interpreter who first gave his name to the 
 whites. He was named not Big Head, but Big Brain, 
 in compliment to his intellectual capacity, and a poor 
 translator gave him the name he is known by. So also 
 in the case of another Indian who will go down to 
 [ 233 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 fame as Big Road. His Indian name was Broad Trail, 
 but an interpreter of limited vocabulary sheared him 
 of his more euphonious title. 
 
 Spotted Tail, a noted chief of the Brule Sioux, suf- 
 fered necessarily in the translation of his name, which 
 sounds much more imposing in the original form of 
 Sinte-Gleska. I have heard that he took the name 
 from a peculiarity of a favorite pony of his boyhood. 
 
 A favorite horse was frequently the source of the 
 Indian's name. Red Horse, Blue-Haired Horse, and 
 High Horse being well-known Sioux names. Little 
 Wound was a Sioux chief whose appellation suggests 
 the injury that bestowed it ; while a physical charac- 
 teristic was obviously responsible for the designation 
 of Wasicun-Waukautuya — Tall White Man. Crazy 
 Walking, a judge of the Indian court at Standing 
 Rock, took his name from his gait, and Running Holy 
 combined a religious tendency with a disposition for 
 swift movements. Afraid-of-Soldier is another Indian 
 who suffered in his name by the translation, for his 
 Sioux title indicated that the soldiers feared him, and 
 should be translated, Their- Soldiers-fear- Him. 
 
 Not infrequently the feminine influence dominated 
 in giving a man or a boy his name, and there was 
 no end of Good Boys and Bad Boys. Very recently I 
 was present at an Indian dance at the Sisseton agency, 
 a leading part in which was taken by a very ancient 
 personage who was known on the roll as Bad Baby. 
 He was at least seventy-five years of age. At Stand- 
 ing Rock there is a man named Married- to- Santee- 
 Woman, a designation that does not help the Indian 
 reputation for imagery in his nomenclature. 
 
 The universe is drawn upon in the naming of the 
 [ 234 ] 
 
HOW THE INDIAN GETS HIS NAME 
 
 Indian. The sun, the moon and its phases, the stars, 
 the animal kingdom, the physical forms of the earth, 
 the birds of the air, and the fishes of the rivers and 
 lakes have all contributed to the naming of them, 
 and it is a matter of regret that the exigencies of the 
 times will presently snuff out this romantic feature of 
 Indian life. But the utter impossibility of a person 
 named He Dog attaining success as the leader of 
 cotillions will appeal to the greatest stickler for the 
 preservation of Indian names. I believe, however, 
 that a great part of the individual nomenclature of 
 the Indians may be preserved in case the custom I 
 adopted at Standing Rock is generally, and wherever 
 possible, followed, and names formed by eliminating 
 the hyphens in compound names. 
 
 The Indian himself will presently begin to feel the 
 need of a simpler system, now that he has come to 
 understand that he cannot get along by adopting the 
 persons he is talking to into his family. Among them- 
 selves the aborigines still use the terms of relation- 
 ship — and that often without regard to the degree 
 of consanguinity. In addressing others, he will men- 
 tion his own name, speaking in the third person, but 
 will call his hearers father, mother, brother, cousin, 
 brother-in-law, son, and daughter. They are very 
 fond of their relatives generally, though the brother- 
 in-law seems to have the greatest portion of the esteem 
 of the Indian, and is the only one of his relatives with 
 whom he can joke and who is supposed to take the 
 jokes in good part. The brother-in-law is also supposed 
 to stand in the relation of providence to the needy, 
 and to be ready at any time to sacrifice himself and 
 his goods for the behoof of the man who married his 
 [ 235 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 sister. And the term grandfather is held in such venera- 
 tion that the Sioux have no other name to designate 
 the rock which serves the purpose of an altar in cer- 
 tain rites, and upon which the most solemn oaths are 
 taken. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 INDIAN SYMPATHIES 
 
 Ghosts and Devils enter largely into the Simple Faith of the Red Man. 
 
 IT is " bad medicine" to ask an Indian of the Sioux 
 nation — or of any other tribe, for the matter of 
 that — if he is sick. He is likely to become im- 
 pressed with the idea that the question is inspired by 
 the bad spirit, or that the person asking is by way of 
 working a spell on him. There is no sort of doubt 
 that the mere asking of this question, which among 
 whites might be regarded as being inspired by kindly 
 solicitude, has caused many a man of the Teton 
 Sioux to take to his bed, or what answers him for a 
 bed, and make ready for his latter end. I have no 
 doubt that many have died of an imaginary illness 
 brought on in this fashion. And many of them have 
 thought better of it when the external evidences of 
 their coming decease were brought before them. But 
 they prepare for death with much more elaboration 
 of detail than they prepare for a birth or a marriage. 
 Indeed, in his native state the Indian gave no thought 
 at all to the imminence of a birth, and very little to a 
 coming marriage. But when death impends, it is not 
 only the fated victim who makes ready, but all his 
 relatives and friends go into the matter with some 
 spirit, and ease the poor man and his family of any 
 little tangible property they may be possessed of, to the 
 [ 237 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 end that they may not be distracted in their grief by 
 earthly concerns. 
 
 To be as "sick as a dog" but feebly expresses 
 a condition of desperate health. One might declare 
 he was "sick as an Indian," and mean something. 
 I have always consistently forborne to make light in 
 any way of the fancies of the Indian. He is a grown-up 
 child in his regard for the things that he does not 
 understand. To him the earth, the skies, the wa- 
 ters — every animal, bird, and fish, all created things 
 — stand for that which he does not understand and 
 which he, therefore, endows with supernatural attri- 
 butes. The animals are his brothers, and that ani- 
 mal which is the totem of his house or clan he regards 
 with veneration, and will under no circumstances kill 
 or take for food. Living for centuries under condi- 
 tions which filled the night with menace to his safety, 
 he has come to people the darkness with the ghosts 
 of his forefathers, and no amount of physical courage 
 will bring the average uncultured Indian to move 
 about in the dark with ease of mind. This constant 
 thought of the unseen powers has had an important 
 bearing on the development of Indian character. His 
 fear of death is a purely physical manifestation, — 
 the repugnance of the flesh, — for he regards the put- 
 ting off of the mortal parts, under proper conditions, 
 as a means of promotion to his idea of bliss ; a happy 
 land wherein the ghosts of men hunt the ghosts of 
 buffaloes, in a country where the climate is altogether 
 desirable and the game plenty. The Indian is rather 
 shy of trying to go too far into a field that he does not 
 understand, and he simply will not consider the ques- 
 tion, whether the slaying by the ghost of a man of the 
 [ 238 ] 
 
INDIAN SYMPATHIES 
 
 ghost of the buffalo puts an end to the animal ghost, 
 or whether there is born at once the ghost of a buffalo 
 ghost. 
 
 The higher criticism is not part of the Indian's 
 field of exploitation. He has some idea of a hell, but 
 I am convinced that this is borrowed from the white 
 man. It is undefined, seldom referred to, and is de- 
 scribed according to the location on earth of the In- 
 dian. If he happens to have his being in a climatic 
 condition wherein the cold weather causes him the 
 most physical discomfort, his hell is a place where 
 winter reigns perpetual, where game cannot live, and 
 the horrors of a fireless tepee are ever present. If he 
 happens to live in a hot arid country, his hell is a place 
 of eternal heat, where grass cannot grow, and of great 
 scarcity of water. 
 
 To this hell the Indian consigns only his enemies. 
 His moral code is not so adjusted as to be sustained 
 by the system of rewards and punishments prescribed 
 by the believers in the religions of oriental origin. In 
 his simple way he arranges a heaven to his liking, for 
 his own occupation, and does away with the necessity 
 for carrying his troubles beyond the grave, by send- 
 ing his enemies to hell. 
 
 The Indian is by no means an ancestor-worshiper. 
 He acknowledges that the ghosts are having a joyous 
 time, and he has a great regard for those ghosts in the 
 abstract, but he does not desire to see or hear from 
 them while he is still in the flesh. And, as I have no 
 disposition to invade the field so earnestly cultivated 
 by the learned gentlemen who have provided the In- 
 dian with a system of theology and a rich mythology, 
 — which will assuredly astound the Indian when he 
 [ 239 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 is far enough advanced in the arts of civiHzation to 
 become acquainted with these of his beliefs by reading 
 the books of the white man, — I will avoid attempt- 
 ing to go into abstractions on aboriginal beliefs. This 
 much it may be permitted to say : the ceremonial re- 
 ligious rites of the Indian, the few myths he knows of, 
 his idea of hell and other essential attributes of what 
 may be called his religious system, — if so indefinite 
 a thing may be called a system, — all these things sug- 
 gested to me long ago that he is largely indebted to the 
 earlier white missionaries for these amplifications of 
 an original faith which had no depth other than a be- 
 lief in a good spirit who might be depended on to ex- 
 ert a benign influence, — and who, therefore, required 
 no propitiation, — and an evil spirit, variously mani- 
 fested, that must be propitiated by sacrifice or circum- 
 vented by artifice. I have not studied Indian beliefs 
 deeply, but I have heard of many myths attributed to 
 the Indians, and I never yet knew an Indian to hold 
 to one that was not analogous to some fabled story of 
 our own classics. It has always seemed to me that 
 the white men who first associated with the Indian, 
 entertained their red friends by telling them stories 
 that would appeal to their undeveloped minds, and 
 that, to do this, the story-tellers drew on the stores of 
 their own memories. The Indian myth is simply the 
 classic fable fitted to local conditions. 
 
 All of which is beside the subject-matter. 
 
 The Indian mother puts ashes on the mouth of her 
 babe to keep the child from being occupied or influ- 
 enced by the spirit-friends from whose company he 
 has lately come. The Indian of mature years, wise 
 according to his lights, puts food and drink close to the 
 [ 240 ] 
 
INDIAN SYMPATHIES 
 
 grave of his dead relative, to keep the newly made 
 ghost from bothering about the village at night, — 
 this quite as much as with a view to providing the 
 departed with provision for his trip to the happy 
 spirit-land. The closer the Indian is to nature, the 
 more nearly is he a spiritualist, and the fakirs among 
 the medicine men frequently pretend to be in cor- 
 respondence with the spirits. Sitting Bull professed 
 to receive messages from the spirits by means of per- 
 sons who had become unconscious through the rigors 
 of the prescribed rites during the ghost-dancing craze. 
 
 It has frequently happened that the elaboration 
 with which an Indian approaches death, and the free- 
 dom from mental cares that follows upon the com- 
 pletion of the preparations, effects a cure of the bodily 
 ailments from which he has been suffering. I was 
 reminded of a case in point during my last visit to 
 Standing Rock, when an old Indian woman, nearly 
 blind and very infirm, called to talk to Mrs. McLaugh- 
 lin about her troubles. Arrow Woman was the name 
 we knew her by, years ago when my wife taught her 
 how to cook and care for a house. She was working 
 in the agency kitchen in 1882, and rapidly becoming 
 an expert in domestic affairs, and we thought very 
 well of her. One day an Indian gossip arrived at the 
 back door of the house and told Arrow Woman that 
 her uncle was dead. She sat herself down in the midst 
 of her pots and pans and gave herself up to mourn- 
 ing. My wife inquired what the matter was, and 
 Arrow Woman told her that her heart was broken, — 
 her uncle was dead. She had only gotten the news 
 from an Indian gossip, and I did not believe it was 
 [ 241 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 true. I sent out and found that the old man was alive, 
 and told Arrow Woman the fact. 
 
 "Well," she said, "he has been spoken of as dead, 
 and he must die. I will go to him." 
 
 Mrs. McLaughlin was as anxious as myself to break 
 up the Indian superstitions that stood most in the way 
 of their civilization, and she went with Arrow Woman 
 to the camp of her uncle. The old fellow, named 
 Little Soldier, was laid out in a tepee. He had a house, 
 but with the Indian's indisposition to die between 
 four walls, he had made his people take him out into 
 the open. In his tepee he lay, his face painted ver- 
 milion ; at his head sat one of his wives, at his feet the 
 other. He was quite resigned. Outside, his relatives 
 had gathered, and a numerous tribe they were. They 
 were on hand to seize on the possessions of the family 
 as soon as the life was out of the body of Little Sol- 
 dier. 
 
 Mrs. McLaughlin was given the place of honor in 
 the tepee — the seat opposite the opening into the 
 lodge. She asked the old man, who was breathing with 
 diflficulty and obviously making every effort to die, 
 what ailed him. He replied : — 
 
 " It has been told that I am dead. The ghosts await 
 me and I must go." 
 
 He actually had no disease, and even fewer than 
 the ordinary infirmities of age. 
 
 The visitor suggested that what he needed was food 
 and cheering up. 
 
 "I have no teeth in my stomach," he said, "and 
 my heart is sad. But I want one thing from my white 
 friend." 
 
 "What is that you want.?" 
 [ 242 ] 
 
INDIAN SYMPATHIES 
 
 The old fellow sat up and looked a little more cheer- 
 ful — which did not serve to prepare his visitor for 
 what was coming. 
 
 "All my life have I been the friend of the white 
 man," said the moribund one. "I have no white 
 blood on my hands" — and he held out his bony 
 fingers smeared with vermilion, with which his face 
 was painted. "Those hands are clean. My heart has 
 been good to the white brother, and what the agent 
 has advised, that have I done. It has been hard some- 
 times, but I have made the white man's way my way, 
 and often have I hungered. Now, I would die decently 
 and be buried as a white man. I want a coffin. I 
 have said all." 
 
 Mrs. McLaughlin told him that should he die, he 
 would have a coffin to be buried in. The following 
 morning, his son. Little Dog, brought the measure- 
 ment of his father for the promised coffin, stating that 
 he was dead. I directed the carpenter to make the 
 coffin, which was promptly attended to, but when it 
 was finished. Little Dog could not be found to take 
 it to his camp, and, upon inquiry, it was learned that 
 Little Soldier was still alive. 
 
 The year was a hard one on the "hostiles." The 
 men and women and children who had been out with 
 Sitting Bull, were very far gone with poverty and dis- 
 ease when they came in, and they died at a rate that 
 kept me at my wit's end. They were given what treat- 
 ment was possible and fed as well as the means pro- 
 vided would allow. But they feared the white man's 
 medicine, and their own medicine men were powerless. 
 They were too far gone to be recovered by the means 
 of food, and deaths were frequent — so frequent that 
 [ 243 1 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 the agency carpenter was kept quite busy making 
 rough pine coflfins for their burial. The coffin which 
 was made for Little Soldier, after having been kept for 
 three days, expecting his son to call for it, was given to 
 Big Road, one of the late hostiles, for the burial of 
 one of his two wives who had died that morning. 
 
 Some injudicious relative told Little Soldier that 
 the coffin made for him had been given to Big Road 
 for the burial of his wife, and upon Mrs. McLaughlin 
 visiting him the following day, she found him in high 
 dudgeon over it. He said, "All my life I have been a 
 friend to the whites, and I feel much grieved to know 
 that another lies in the coffin which was made for me, 
 and more especially, as the person occupying it was 
 an enemy of the Great Father." 
 
 Mrs. McLaughlin consoled the old man by pro- 
 mising him that she would see to it that he would have 
 a nice coffin when he died, and that she would have it 
 lined with bleached muslin. This assurance pleased 
 Little Soldier very much, and when he died, a few 
 weeks later, the muslin-lined coffin was forthcoming, 
 which was regarded by the relatives and friends of the 
 old man as a mark of great distinction, and they were 
 not reticent in the matter of expressing their pride 
 and admiration for the dead man, who stood so well 
 with the agent as to have such a handsome coffin fur- 
 nished him. 
 
 In the late seventies, while I was still agent at Fort 
 Totten, Mrs. Standing Elk was painted for death. She 
 was about middle age, and some one said of her that 
 she was sick. Wherefore she lay down to die. She 
 first put her house in order and then she moved out 
 of it into the tepee that was set up near at hand. Not 
 [ 244 ] 
 
INDIAN SYMPATHIES 
 
 that the tepee was such a rare place of residence in 
 those days — or in these days either, for the matter 
 of that. The tepee is the institution to which the red 
 people cling with most affection, and even among 
 the Indians living on allotments, one will see but few 
 houses which have not standing by, and occupied in 
 the summer, the tepee, that may be so readily trans- 
 ported, when the red man takes his family and goes 
 visiting his relations — which he does with great en- 
 thusiasm when an opportunity presents itself ; and if 
 the opportunity does not present itself, he will com- 
 pel it, for there never were people like my red friends 
 to go visiting. 
 
 So that when Mrs. Standing Elk felt that her time 
 was come, she lay down in the tepee and told Stand- 
 ing Elk that her end was at hand. Standing Elk made 
 no attempt to dissuade her. She had been a good wife 
 to him, but she had come to the borderland of the 
 country of the ghosts, and it was not for him to dis- 
 pute the time of her going. 
 
 "I want a coffin," said Mrs. Standing Elk. "Go to 
 the father at the agency and tell him. And I would 
 have a coffin that will fit me. It is not well that a 
 woman should lie in a coffin made for a man." 
 
 Standing Elk was the lord of his household, accord- 
 ing to the custom of his people, but he had lived with 
 Mrs. Standing Elk for many years, and there had been 
 but one voice in that household, and that was not al- 
 ways the voice of Standing Elk. So he got together, 
 with much labor, a measure made up of pieces of 
 knotted cord, and he measured Mrs. Standing Elk as 
 she lay in the tepee. And with the knotted string he 
 came to the agency and said to me : — 
 [ 245 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 " Father, my wife will die to-day, and she wants a 
 coffin from you." 
 
 I asked him what the ailment was, and he said, 
 " Just nothing, but that she had heard the ghosts call- 
 ing and must go." 
 
 There was no use combatting that logic, so I had the 
 carpenter make a coffin according to the measure- 
 ments of the knotted string, which the prospective 
 widower took home with him, seated on the casket. 
 
 Now it had taken some time for the making of the 
 coffin. The carpenter was not a fast workman, and 
 Standing Elk had been unconscionably delayed. Mrs. 
 Standing Elk had become impatient. She was all 
 ready to go and did not like the idea of being delayed. 
 But she would not go without a sight of the coffin the 
 white father was to provide for her. She could not lie 
 in the tepee and wait for the coming of Standing Elk, 
 but would sit without. And there she sat, her face 
 painted for death and her relatives grouped about her, 
 expectant. Still Standing Elk delayed, and her im- 
 patience gave way to vexation. When the husband 
 of her lodge arrived, late in the evening, with the cof- 
 fin, she was mad, and getting up, she berated him for 
 a laggard. When the coffin was taken from the cart 
 and stood on the ground, on end, she stood beside it 
 and found it was taller than she. Standing Elk was 
 given a scolding, the group of relatives dispersed, the 
 old lady carried the coffin into the house on her shoul- 
 der, and when I left Fort Totten several years later, 
 the coffin still stood on end in the house of Standing 
 Elk. Shelves had been fitted into it, and it was doing 
 duty as a cupboard. 
 
 Henry Agard, as will be suggested by the name, 
 [ 246 ] 
 
 
INDIAN SYMPATHIES 
 
 was rather a progressive Indian from the first. And 
 he was fairly well-to-do, as things went on the Stand- 
 ing Rock reservation. He had a substantial house, and 
 his wife was as progressive in most things as her hus- 
 band. And they lived in peace for many years, and 
 that peace was not disturbed when Agard's wife fell 
 ill and told Henry that she was about to die. That she 
 was ill was not to be doubted, but the announcement 
 by herself of her impending death was undoubtedly 
 precipitated by the gossip of the people, which told 
 that she was sick. When she heard this, she told her 
 husband to go and buy a coffin. 
 
 I have said that Agard was well-to-do for an In- 
 dian. He had some horses and cattle and had raised 
 some crops — not many, or very large, but some. And 
 his credit was good, — a condition quite as frequently 
 to be met with among those Indians who have not 
 taken allotments, and with them the expenses and airs 
 of citizenship, as among those who are privileged to 
 put their money on the bar, after the fashion of the 
 white man. But if he had not been rich, according to 
 his station, Agard was quite enough of an Indian to 
 spend all he had in order to bestow the most expensive 
 and elaborate mortuary honors on his spouse. There- 
 fore it was not a matter to cause comment when 
 Henry Agard sent away and bought a sixty-dollar 
 casket for his wife. 
 
 When the coffin arrived, the Indians of the reserva- 
 tion gathered from far and near to behold the casket 
 that the opulence of Agard had provided for his dying 
 wife. He was pointed to by Indian wives as a pattern 
 husband, one who did not scruple to do justice to a 
 good wife. And Mrs. Agard participated in the en- 
 [ 247 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 joyment of the good thing that had been provided for 
 her final delectation and her long home. 
 
 The coflfin was taken into the sick room, for she lay 
 in her bed in the house yet, and death was not near 
 enough to cause her to desire to be taken into the 
 open. The cofiin was set before her, and the people 
 went freely into the sick room to talk with her of her 
 good fortune in possessing so handsome an equipment 
 for the grave. And she, forgetting the mortal char- 
 acter of her ailment and the calling of the ghosts, sat 
 up and received the congratulations of the people with 
 pleasure. And so cheered were her spirits, that she 
 could not bear to die and lose sight of the handsome 
 piece of furniture that enriched her house, and she 
 kept the coffin within sight and proceeded to mend in 
 her health, so that it was not long before she could sit 
 up and take nourishment ; but she died within a few 
 months, and was buried in the coffin which she had so 
 much admired. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 PERMANENT INDIAN VILLAGES 
 
 Fortified City of a Northern Tribe whose Language suggests Welsh. 
 
 EIGHT or nine hundred years ago — this is not a 
 matter of personal recollection, for I am taking 
 the words of the ethnologists for the statement 
 — a company of adventurous Welshmen landed some- 
 where on the South Atlantic coast and planted a colony. 
 Of this there seems to be little doubt — and as little 
 tangible proof. The Welshmen, not having the in- 
 stinct for conquest that marks their descendants and 
 relatives of to-day, or, perhaps, finding the conditions 
 in this country to their liking, appear to have devel- 
 oped the capacity of the French pioneers in the north- 
 west for assimilation with the native peoples, for they 
 never went back to Wales, but became, in some sort, 
 the ancestors of a tribe of Indians which left its im- 
 press on the country from the coast of the Carolinas 
 to the Missouri River country north of Bismarck. 
 For the Mandans are thought by some writers to be 
 the descendants of the lost Welshmen. Some philolo- 
 gists have endeavored to prove this to their own satis- 
 faction, and it is said that the Mandans, to this day, 
 retain in their vocabulary a great many distinctively 
 Welsh words. About this there is no room for quar- 
 reling. A stranger meeting a Welsh word anywhere 
 in the world would identify and classify it on the spot. 
 [ 249 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 Ud happily — but perhaps fortunately for them — the 
 Indians never knew the art of writing the language, 
 and there is no one among them who writes himself 
 "Ap-Thomas," and they do not use a collection of 
 I's in starting a word. But as before stated, it is said 
 that they have many Welsh words in common use. 
 And for hundreds of years they maintained physical 
 and mental characteristics that have raised them 
 above their fellows. The surviving members of the 
 tribe — pitiably few in numbers — are still a superior 
 sort of people, and no observer who has been among 
 the northern Indians can have failed to note the dis- 
 tinguished characteristics of this strange people. 
 
 It is many years since I was brought into contact 
 with them, and they were even then fallen far from 
 the estate they once occupied. Driven before the 
 white man, they had been forced into the country of 
 the fierce and warlike Sioux, and their ranks had been 
 frightfully thinned by war and disease. They lived 
 then, as they do now, in neighborly fellowship with 
 the Arickarees and Gros Ventres. With these latter 
 tribes they had no blood connection, for the Gros 
 Ventres are allied to the Crows; the Arickarees, re- 
 lated to the Pawnees, came from the south ; and when, 
 a generation ago, I was officially connected with the 
 organization of a peace council between the Devils 
 Lake Sioux on the one hand and the Rees, Gros Ven- 
 tres, and Mandans on the other, these three latter 
 tribes were living in perfect amity in what I believe 
 was the last stockaded and permanent village inhab- 
 ited by northern Indians. And strange to relate, it 
 was not the Mandans, with the trace of European 
 ancestry, who were responsible for the village, but the 
 [ 250 ] 
 
PERMANENT INDIAN VILLAGES 
 
 Arickarees. All of which reminds me of a story, and 
 here it is. 
 
 In 1878 the Rees, Gros Ventres, and Mandans 
 lived in a stockaded village, just above the agency at 
 Fort Berthold on the Missouri River. The village had 
 been there many years. The Rees had come up the 
 Missouri River. They left at several points evidences 
 of their occupation of the country in the remains of 
 abandoned villages. When they crossed the Heart 
 River and established themselves on the Missouri, 
 they built a village that might afford them protection 
 from their fierce neighbors, the Sioux. They were 
 utterly unable to cope with the warriors of the Tetons 
 without some sort of protection, and this protection 
 they obtained by living within fortifications. They 
 taught the Gros Ventres and the Mandans that it 
 was possible to live in comparative comfort — if not 
 in peace — by interposing solid barriers to the depre- 
 dations of the Sioux. 
 
 The Mandans and the Gros Ventres, who had 
 suffered in their persons and their herds from the 
 Sioux, were glad to make common cause with the 
 Rees, and they assisted in the building of the remark- 
 able fortifications which stood on the banks of the 
 Missouri until a very few years ago. They were unique 
 in Indian architecture, so far as my knowledge goes. 
 With an eye single to the possibilities of defense the 
 Rees had chosen for the site of their village a bend 
 of the river, where an abrupt angle in the course of the 
 stream left an elbow-shaped tract of land with a com- 
 paratively narrow base, and the high banks of the 
 river afforded ample protection on the river side of 
 the village site. Across the base of the triangle, two 
 [251 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 sides of which were protected naturally, a stockade of 
 logs had been built. This was a substantial structure 
 of heavy timbers, the butts sunk well into the ground 
 and the upper ends sharpened to points. Over the 
 sally-port a watch-tower had been built, to command 
 a view of the country, and defend the gate in case of 
 attack. It was a complete defense to any attack that 
 the Sioux might make with such offensive weapons as 
 they had. A certain amount of genius in military 
 engineering had been displayed, both in the selection 
 of the site and in the construction of the defense of 
 the place. 
 
 Much as I was astonished by the appearance of the 
 stockade, I was even more surprised when I passed 
 the barrier; for the Indians whom I had known had 
 lived in tepees, wickiups, or houses fashioned after 
 the plan of the white man. The houses occupied by 
 the people inside the stockade were, in a general way, 
 in the form of tepees, but they were enormously larger 
 than tepees and were built of logs. Good-sized trees — 
 for that country — had been used, and these were set 
 into the ground perpendicularly, embracing a circle 
 of twenty-five or thirty feet diameter. In the centre 
 of the enclosed circle, four uprights were fixed at the 
 corners of a square, and these, running to the roof, 
 formed, when closed in, a chimney, and furnished 
 support for the roof-timbers which were laid from the 
 walls. The roof was covered with grass or rushes, and 
 dirt thrown on ; the chinks of the walls were plastered 
 with mud. Attached to each of the buildings was 
 a semicircular addition of considerable dimensions, 
 proportioned to the size of the dwelling, and access 
 to the house was had through this addition, which 
 [ 252 ] 
 
PERMANENT INDIAN VILLAGES 
 
 was used as a stable for their best ponies. For the 
 Rees were fond of their horses. Moreover their neigh- 
 bors, the Sioux, were also fond of the Rees' horses, 
 and the Ree was disposed to take his best horses, 
 racing and war ponies, into the very bosom of his 
 family. 
 
 The houses were scattered about through the en- 
 closures without regard to street lines, the village being 
 in every respect similar to the Indian village of the 
 plains, but that it was constructed of timber and that 
 every house would contain twenty or thirty persons, 
 all the members of a closely related family occupying 
 a dwelling in common. 
 
 In this place at the time of my visit, thirty-one 
 years ago, there dwelt some two thousand Indians, the 
 Rees being the most numerous, with the Gros Ven- 
 tres and Mandans strong in the order named. The 
 community was governed by dog soldiers, head men, 
 and chiefs of the tribes, but Son-of-the-Star, a Ree, 
 was the head chief. The people retained their tribal 
 characteristics to a certain extent, but long residence 
 in the land of the Sioux had led them to adopt the 
 Dakota as the common language, though among 
 themselves they spoke the tribal language, the Gros 
 Ventres speaking Crow, they being allied to that 
 tribe. 
 
 Outside of the stockade were the agency buildings, 
 the new agency quarters being something like a mile 
 from the stockade; and a trader's store, owned by 
 William Shaw of St. Paul, Minnesota, was located 
 immediately outside the stockade sally-port, Mr. 
 Shaw being quite indifferent as to whether he traded 
 with the people inside the stockade or with the Sioux 
 [ 253 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 who might be engaged in the diversion of trying to 
 knock the stockade down to the end that they might 
 comfortably scalp the inhabitants. 
 
 There never had been much peace between the 
 Rees, Gros Ventres, and Mandans of the alliance, and 
 the Teton Sioux of the trans- Missouri country, for 
 the Sioux continually hungered for the horses of the 
 allies; but for many years there had been amity be- 
 tween them and my Indians of the Devils Lake Sioux, 
 the Santees and Cut Heads. This amity had been 
 jeopardized, even destroyed, by a couple of cunning 
 white scamps who had evinced an insatiate desire for 
 the horses of the Indian. 
 
 The allies within the stockade were in the habit, in 
 time of peace, of grazing their ponies outside the stock- 
 ade. They were comparatively rich in horses, and the 
 pasturage within the gates was insuflScient for their 
 maintenance. One day in the spring of 1878 these two 
 white men left their homes, up near the Canadian 
 boundary on the Pembina River, and made a trip to the 
 Missouri. They found the ponies of the allies and cut 
 out fifty or sixty of them. The stolen stock they headed 
 for the Fort Totten reservation, and, with the cunning 
 of Indians, they left a broad trail that the owners of 
 the stolen horses might follow. With malice afore- 
 thought, they put on moccasins of the shape used by 
 the Devils Lake Indians and left a trail that a blind 
 Ree could follow and would immediately recognize 
 as that of a Cut Head. This broad trail, which was 
 actually blazed by the occasional abandonment of a 
 worn-out pony, led straight across the country to 
 Devils Lake. On reaching the lake, the thieves made 
 a detour, covered their tracks by taking to the road, 
 [ 254 ] 
 
PERMANENT INDIAN VILLAGES 
 
 and went off to the northeast, arriving in good time at 
 Pembina with their booty. 
 
 In those days there was neither telegraph nor tele- 
 phone in the country, but news traveled with incredible 
 rapidity between reservations in a sparsely settled dis- 
 trict. Word came to me of the theft of the horses, and 
 the obvious intent of the thieves to fasten the crime 
 on my Indians. I got into communication with the 
 authorities, and the Devils Lake Indians were not 
 long in finding out how the thieves had traveled and 
 their evident intention to lead the Rees to think they 
 had committed the depredation. I communicated 
 with the agent, E. H. Alden, at Fort Berthold, and with 
 the civil authorities, and the thieves were soon enough 
 apprehended. The horses, however, or a great part 
 of them, had been run across the line into Manitoba 
 and sold. 
 
 The Rees and their allies were wild. That a band 
 with whom they were at peace, and had long been, 
 should deliberately steal their horses, involved an in- 
 jury and insult that could be wiped out only with 
 blood. At least they would show the Cut Heads and 
 Santees that they could wipe the injury out in blood if 
 they wanted to. A big party of them left the village 
 by the Missouri and started across the country for 
 Devils Lake. 
 
 At the bend of the Mouse River, they struck the 
 camp of a mixed-blood from the Red River, one Joe 
 Perronto. Infuriated at the loss of their horses, and 
 without stopping to parley, they opened fire on the 
 camp. Perronto was away on a hunting expedition, 
 and only his wife and two children were in camp. The 
 two children were killed and the woman wounded. 
 [ ^55 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 With their savage ardor cooled, perhaps, by this 
 blood-letting, they crossed to the west end of the Dev- 
 ils Lake reservation, approached the camp of the 
 unsuspecting Cut Heads, cautiously, and one morn- 
 ing a number of my Indians woke up to find that they 
 were constructively dead : the Rees and their allies had 
 crept into the camp during the night and touched the 
 sleeping warriors with their coup-sticks. 
 
 In Indian warfare, he who touches another with his 
 coup-stick is reckoned as the slayer of the one touched, 
 whether he does the killing or not. To approach a 
 sleeping enemy and touch him, then to leave a sign 
 without the tepee in the form of certain sticks,would 
 be equivalent to notifying the man upon whom the 
 coup had been counted that he was dead, in that he 
 only survived through the magnanimity of the enemy. 
 
 At the entrance to their lodges the Cut Heads found 
 the sticks indicating what had happened. They 
 mounted and followed the trail of the visitors for thirty 
 miles, then came in and told me what had happened. 
 Something must be done to avert further trouble, and 
 I communicated with the Commissioner of Indian Af- 
 fairs and was directed to arrange for an understand- 
 ing between the tribes about what had happened, and 
 to bring about a peace council. Agent Alden — who, 
 by the way, was a minister of the Presbyterian Church 
 and who had been a very successful frontier mission- 
 ary — was instructed to prepare his Indians for a 
 council with the Devils Lake people, to the end that 
 no misunderstanding might exist. 
 
 Thus it came about that, one day in July, 1878, I 
 put myself at the head of a cavalcade of Santees and 
 Cut Heads, six hundred men, women, and children, 
 [ 256 ] 
 
PERMANENT INDIAN VILLAGES 
 
 and started across the country for Fort Berthold. The 
 settler had not yet come into that section of Dakota, 
 and the prairie, carpeted with flowers, was still un- 
 touched by the plough that has since opened its vir- 
 gin bosom. A queer outfit, that which I led out of the 
 Devils Lake reservation, as it would look to-day if 
 seen crossing the same prairie, now thickly settled. 
 The Indians carried with them all the essentials for 
 dressing for feasts, all their dancing regalia, and such 
 things as they could procure for presents to their old 
 friends on the Missouri. With carts, travois, and 
 ponies, the procession strung out for a mile or more and 
 moved leisurely along. There was some game in the 
 country, and the hunters ranged ahead and to the 
 north and south. The trail led along what had been 
 the old military road established in the sixties, and 
 along which the mail was carried up into Montana 
 and Idaho. We passed Wook Lake, Dogs Den, and 
 Strawberry Lake, and on to Fort Stevenson, which 
 fort was still garrisoned, thence over to Berthold. 
 
 The Rees, Gros Ventres, and Mandans came out 
 to meet my people, a great crowd of them, and the re- 
 ception was hearty enough to satisfy the Cut Heads 
 upon whom coups had been counted. Up to and within 
 their stockade they led the visitors, to assure them that 
 they were welcome to all the hosts had. The people 
 fraternized easily enough, but nothing could be done 
 without a council, and if one council was a good thing, 
 several councils would be better. There was much 
 feasting and a very great deal of talking. I told them 
 in council of the earnest desire of the Great Father 
 that his red children should dwell in amity, and ex- 
 plained that the ponies had been taken by white men, 
 [257 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 and proposed a formal treaty of peace. To this all 
 agreed, but it would not comport with the Indian 
 dignity to make the treaty too soon. 
 
 Son-of-the-Star, as chief of the allies and princi- 
 pal spokesman, told how sad his heart was when he 
 thought with what bitterness he had regarded his 
 brothers of the Sioux bands ; how he grieved because 
 his young men had killed the children of Perron to; 
 and how firmly they would hold to the treaty about 
 to be made. Crow's Breast, of the Gros Ventres, ex- 
 pressed pretty much the same sentiments, and so en- 
 thusiastic did the people become in their desire to 
 make things right, that they rushed out, brought in 
 their horses, and bestowed about fifty ponies on Per- 
 ronto — who was on the spot ready to be surprised 
 in case anything of this sort happened. 
 
 When my Indians left Berthold, the visited were 
 practically broke. They fairly heaped presents on the 
 visitors. Everything they could prevail on them to 
 carry off, they gave, and the Sioux were too well ac- 
 quainted with the Indian etiquette to risk insulting 
 the others by refusing anything. They trailed out of 
 camp at the end of the visit with their travois, carts, 
 and ponies loaded with the evidences of good will 
 that had been presented to them. In the name of 
 friendship, the Rees, Gros Ventres, and Mandans had 
 impoverished themselves, but it was " Indian giving," 
 the trail to Devils Lake was opened, and there would 
 be visiting again and the allies would not leave empty- 
 handed. 
 
 The Ree village on the Missouri is long since aban- 
 doned, and the people are living in the fashion of the 
 white man, the three tribes still living in amity and, 
 [258] 
 
PERMANENT INDIAN VILLAGES 
 
 perhaps, further advanced in the arts of civilization 
 because of the fact that they are not all of one blood, 
 with ideas peculiar to a single tribe. And the pipe of 
 peace that was lighted in July, 1878, on the banks of 
 the Missouri, has never since gone out. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 ON THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 Wherein it is shown that the Want of Good Faith on the Part of the 
 White Man has had much Influence in making Bad Indians. 
 
 I AM not an apologist for the Indian. I do not hold 
 with those people who contend, and generally 
 without much knowledge of the subject, that the 
 red man has been pillaged, debauched, impoverished, 
 and driven to desperation by the acts of the white man. 
 In the nature of things, it must have come about that 
 the Indian should go to the wall before the dominat- 
 ing influence of the white man. When the first white 
 placed his foot upon the shores of this continent, it 
 was predestined that he should come into the inherit- 
 ance of the Indian. And there is no use quarreling 
 with the processes of natural law. But I do know that 
 the sins of the Indians are traceable to the avarice, the 
 cruelty, the licentiousness of Wasicun, the white man. 
 What he is, the white man made him — for in the 
 Indian of to-day there is very little trace of that high 
 spirit and cheerful independence which marked the 
 aborigines upon whom the first comers are said to have 
 fallen, as soon as was convenient after falling upon 
 their knees and giving thanks for coming into the 
 inheritance that had been held for them for many 
 centuries by the natives. 
 
 I do not flatter myself that I am uttering an original 
 truth when I say that the Indian has been made the 
 [ 260 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 object of speculative persecution by every white man 
 who felt that he needed what the Indian possessed. 
 The history of the country, east and west, was written 
 in the blood of men and women who were just as cer- 
 tainly the victims, morally, of the men who made the 
 Indians what they were, as they were literally the vic- 
 tims of the tomahawk. That is all past and gone ; the 
 last menace of an Indian uprising disappeared when 
 Sitting Bull died. The Indian of to-day who is living 
 at an agency, a moral pauper by reason of his depend- 
 ency on the dole he receives from the government, 
 waiting for enfranchisement by death or the develop- 
 ment of some instinctive movement for self-preserva- 
 tion, or that other one, who is struggling to stand up- 
 right and alone among men, is handicapped m his 
 efforts and his hopes by reason of the fact that he and 
 his ancestors have been treated as liars and cheats, 
 by liars and cheats, who wanted that which the Indian 
 possessed. 
 
 A hundred years or so of governmental direction 
 of the Indian, sometimes by cajolery, frequently by 
 warfare, and occasionally by rational and fair treat- 
 ment, has produced a being who is still a child in his 
 understanding of our ways, our philosophy, and our 
 knowledge of the necessity for "hustling" for what is 
 desirable. That century of experiment and exploita- 
 tion has ultimately effected this: it has placed about 
 the Indian and his property sufficient restrictions to 
 prevent him from being officially robbed, and it has 
 secured to him an inheritance that is just sufficient 
 to make him an unproductive loafer — unless he hap- 
 pens to be an individual of such strength of mind that 
 he is the mental superior of his white neighbors. For 
 [261 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 some years the government has been engaged in con- 
 verting the untutored savage of the sixties and early 
 seventies into an inoffensive but irrational being, who 
 cannot get used to the idea that he is a human entity, 
 with his own salvation, moral and physical, to work out. 
 And this condition the Indian has been brought to 
 because he has been coddled by a lot of fool friends 
 whose hands he bit, or chased like a wild beast by 
 fighting men who understood him no better than those 
 who coddled him. 
 
 It was a difficult task that was committed to the 
 men who have been trying to work out the Indian 
 problem of late years, — the task of bringing the In- 
 dian to a state that would permit of his assimilation by 
 the American body politic. It has by no means been 
 accomplished yet. As I have said elsewhere, I believe 
 it will be accomplished soonest by giving the Indian 
 his portion and letting him solve the problem himself. 
 And how much easier that task might have been made, 
 I have proved in my own experience, by telling him 
 nothing unless I could tell him the truth, and then by 
 standing by what I said to the very end. I have been 
 asked how I have succeeded in retaining the respect 
 and even regard of the Indians with whom I have been 
 brought in contact. I may say now — and that with- 
 out self-laudation, for many better and wiser men 
 have failed — that I treated the Indian as an individ- 
 ual as nearly as possible as though he were a white 
 man and capable of coping with white men with their 
 own weapons. When I said I would do a thing, I did 
 it, whether the Indian liked it or not ; and more than 
 once in my official life I have had to take a very long 
 chance with the powers, in order to carry out my 
 [ 262 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 promise to the Indian without coming into conflict 
 with higher authority. 
 
 And I believe, as I believe in my Maker, that, if I 
 had not bound to myself and their duty the Indians 
 whom I placed in positions of authority at Standing 
 Rock, and who laid down their lives in doing their 
 duty at the time of the ghost-dancing craze, the winter 
 of 1890-91 would have seen an uprising in the Da- 
 kotas — perhaps throughout the West — that would 
 have thrown into insignificance the Indian wars of the 
 past. 
 
 The making of unfair treaties and the violation of j 
 treaty rights are the two things of which the Indian / 
 has most right to complain, and I am moved to tell \ 
 something of the treaties, their uses and abuses, with 
 the people among whom I have lived for so many 
 years. 
 
 The Teton Sioux had always been used to a very 
 wide range. Gifted academicians, who have studied 
 the Indian in his history, have made it clear enough to 
 us that the Sioux occupied a great extent of territory ; 
 and what little they have told us I am ready to accept, 
 for I have found that it must have been gathered by 
 patient research. It would have been of no use to 
 question the Sioux himself, for the SJioux has no yes- 
 terday, and, the bookman to the contrary notwith- 
 standing, he has no traditions. He does n't go back of 
 his grandfather, and he does not appear to have ac- 
 cepted anything, even from that recent ancestor, ex- 
 cept the tribal and religious ceremonial which applies 
 .in all the events of his life. 
 
 Over a vast tract of country the Teton Sioux ranged 
 in historical times. The territory of Dakota, to which 
 [ 263 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 he gave the name of his nation, Dakota, — friends, — 
 was his pasture and his hunting-ground, and he has 
 been far removed from his allies and relatives, the 
 Santees of the eastern bands, for many years. By the 
 right of might and preemption, the Sioux had a king- 
 dom for his back yard and an empire for his pasture. 
 For hundreds of miles he had a free hand, and knew 
 no bound when he rode west through the buffalo 
 grounds on the far side of the Missouri, until he 
 stopped to reconnoitre the country of the Crows on 
 the west, and the home of the Piegans, Bloods, and 
 Blackfeet to the northwest. 
 
 Some speculative writer on Indian history has as- 
 serted that originally the Indian who lived by the 
 chase required eight thousand acres for his subsist- 
 ence, — a theory in which I do not concur, but which 
 might have been true in the case of the bands of Te- 
 tons, for they might have taken allotments of that 
 extent, every individual, and then had some land for 
 sale. From the Missouri down to the Big Blue, north 
 to the Canadian boundary, and west to the Big Horn 
 Mountains and beyond, he roamed in indolent and 
 lordly, if not very refined, leisure. Indeed, he had 
 not paid much attention to these limitations until 
 the government,\j)y the convention of 1868, put him 
 within bounds; and all the Teton Sioux treaties go 
 back to this convention for a basis of agreement. \ 
 
 In 1867 Congress created a commission for the pur- 
 pose of treating with the plains Indians, who had been 
 carrying on a desultory warfare with the troops and 
 the settlers for years. Dreadful atrocities had been per- 
 petrated, and there is no manner of doubt that these 
 atrocities were shared in by both whites and Indians. 
 [ 264 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 The conditions were such that it became necessary 
 to remove the causes of war if possible, and to estab- 
 lish a modus vivendi which would preserve certain 
 rights to the Indians, while giving the whites an op- 
 portunity to open up the country without exposing 
 themselves to the imminent risk of attack by the In- 
 dians. 
 
 As members of this commission there were ap- 
 pointed eight men who were eminent in public life, 
 and all more or less familiar with Indian affairs. 
 They were Generals Sherman, Terry, Harney, and 
 Auger, N. G. Taylor, Indian Commissioner, J. B. 
 Henderson, chairman of the Senate Committee on 
 Indian Affairs, J. B. Sanborn, of St. Paul, Minne- 
 sota, and S. F. Tappan. The commission was well 
 balanced, as to strong men, between the civilian and 
 military elements, but was clearly dominated by Gen- 
 eral Sherman, who had but recently expressed him- 
 self as in favor of a policy of extermination against the 
 Sioux. The other parties to the proposed treaties were 
 not easy to come at, for the Indians feared they were 
 to be trapped. But late in the year, treaties were made 
 with the Kiowas, Comanches, Apaches, Cheyennes, 
 and Arapahoes. The Sioux were more shy, and Red 
 Cloud sent in word that he might come in the next 
 spring. 
 
 The commission made a report, based upon, or in- 
 spired by, a council held at North Platte, in which this 
 sentence is found : " If an Indian is to be trusted at 
 all, he must be trusted to the full extent of his word." 
 Which shows that the commission had arrived at a 
 proper understanding of the people they were dealing 
 with. 
 
 [265] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 On the 29th of April, 1868, the commission met Red 
 Cloud, with his Oglala and the Brule Sioux, at Fort 
 Laramie, and concluded a treaty with them. The same 
 treaty was submitted to and accepted by the head men 
 of the Hunkpapa, Upper and Lower Yanktonais, 
 Blackfeet, Two Kettle, Sans Arc, and Minniconjou 
 Sioux, at various places along the Missouri River, dur- 
 ing the summer. 
 
 The treaty with the Sioux gave them what was 
 known as the Great Sioux reservation. It covered a 
 tract approximating twenty-two million acres, and 
 its boundaries were defined as follows : Commencing 
 at a point where the 46th parallel of north latitude 
 crosses the Missouri River, and continuing down the 
 east bank of the river to the Nebraska line, thence 
 west along the Nebraska line to the 104th degree of 
 west longitude, north to the 46th parallel, and east 
 to the Missouri River; and to include the reservations 
 already provided on the east bank of the river. 
 
 It was also stipulated that the country north of the 
 North Platte River and east of the Big Horn Moun- 
 tains should be considered as unceded Indian ter- 
 ritory, and that the Sioux should have the right to 
 hunt in the lands north of the North Platte and on 
 the Republican fork of the Smoky Hill River, so long 
 as the buffalo continued to be numerous enough to 
 warrant the chase. The further right of the Sioux to 
 live the nomadic life was conceded by a stipulation 
 giving the nomads an annuity separate and distinct 
 from that granted to persons engaged in farming. 
 The treaty was specific in conceding these points, also 
 that no treaty for the cession of any portion or part 
 of the reservation described should be of any validity 
 [ 266 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 or force against the said Indians unless executed and 
 signed by ^at least three fourths of all the adult male 
 Indians interested ; and this should be kept in mind as 
 having important^bearing upon subsequent events, jit 
 is also worth observing that the commission, in mak- 
 ing its report, said that the blame for wrongdoing in 
 the past was directly traceable to the whites. 
 
 In this treaty it was provided that the government 
 should, among other conditions, furnish to every man 
 who settled with his family on the reservation a cow, 
 a yoke of cattle, seed, and agricultural implements, 
 to the value of one hundred dollars during the first 
 year of his incumbency of the land taken, and the 
 same to the value of twenty-five dollars a year for 
 three years thereafter. There was an annuity pro- 
 vision for each individual, whether he settled or re- 
 mained a nomad, and it was stipulated that a school 
 and teacher should be furnished for each thirty chil- 
 dren among the settled Indians, this latter provision 
 to continue for twenty years after the ratification of 
 the treaty. 
 
 It was a notorious fact that the government did not 
 comply with the stipulation as to cows, oxen, seeds, 
 and implements, in the cases of more than two thirds 
 of the persons having a right to these supplies. As for 
 schools, absolutely nothing was done during the first 
 ten years of the twenty provided for. 
 
 At this late date it would be useless and unjust to 
 uncover the motives of the persons who abused the 
 rights of the Indians under the treaty of 1868. Under 
 the peace policy proclaimed by General Grant in 
 1869, some attempt was made to conciliate the In- 
 dians and win them over by kindness, but their rights 
 [ 267 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 were ignored. It had been solemnly promised them 
 that there should be no settlement in the unceded 
 Indian lands without their consent. They had been 
 promised the right to hunt in certain portions of the 
 unceded lands. These rights were ignored in one case, 
 and violated in the other, for settlers and gold-seek- 
 ers went into the country, and the Indians roaming 
 therein, under their treaty rights, were liable to be 
 regarded as hostiles, -|- an order of General Sherman 
 issued in June, 1869, stating that all Indians living 
 within the limits of their reservations should be under 
 the control and direction of the Indian agent, but 
 that all Indians found outside of those limits might 
 be treated as hostiles. 
 
 That these latter were so treated is not to be doubted. 
 The Black Hills were exploited, not only by individ- 
 uals, but under oflficial direction, for in 1874 an ex- 
 pedition went into the Hills under General Custer 
 and made a thorough exploration. The expedition 
 brought out the report that there was much gold in 
 the Hills, and then there was a rush. The Indians 
 made objection to the irruption of the whites, and Red 
 Cloud, at a meeting with a commission at his agency 
 in the summer of 1875, made formal protest against 
 the country of the Sioux being invaded and the gold 
 in their Hills being taken by white men. There were 
 councils and commissions and depredations and re- 
 taliation until the winter of 1875, when it was de- 
 cided by the authorities that the roaming Indians 
 must be restrained ; and notice was sent to the agencies 
 of the Great Sioux reservation, in December, 1875, ^ 
 to communicate with Sitting Bull and other nomad 
 chiefs, and give them to understand that if they did 
 [ 268 J 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 not report on the reservation before the end of the fol- 
 lowing month, war would be made on them. 
 
 Sitting Bull always denied ever having received any 
 oflBcial notification of this intention of the government, 
 and it is doubtful if he did. In any event neither that 
 Chief nor Crazy Horse came in, and in February, 
 1876, General Crook took the field with a consider- 
 able force, to punish the hostiles. Of that campaign 
 and its culmination on the Little Big Horn, I have 
 treated elsewhere, but in September of that year 
 a commission — of which the late Right Reverend 
 ■ Henry B. Whipple, of Minnesota, was a member — 
 negotiated a treaty with the Sioux, which opened 
 the Black Hills, though not materially changing the 
 conditions of the treaty of 1868, except in so far as 
 it required all the Indians to live on their reserva- 
 tion. 
 
 The limits of the reservation were restricted by 
 making the 103d, instead of the 104th, meridian the 
 western boundary on the Nebraska line, and cutting 
 out the V-shaped tract included between the forks of 
 the Cheyenne River. The Black Hills had been opened 
 to the white man, but the price paid in the preliminary 
 to the treaty was rather high, or might be considered 
 so, if flesh and blood had a price. I am convinced 
 now, and always have been, that if the peace policy 
 inaugurated by President Grant in 1869 had been car- 
 ried out, and the rights granted to the Indians by the 
 treaty respected, there would have been no bloodshed. 
 Knowing as I do the Indian character, I am convinced 
 that the Sioux people would, if they had been treated 
 with, have been content to permit the opening of the 
 Black Hills country for a price. 
 [ 269 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 And this, in spite of the fact that no people in the 
 world cling with more tenacity to the soil from which 
 they sprang. It may have been because they lived so 
 very close to the land that they had for generations 
 subsisted on the natural fruits and riches of, without 
 cultivation; but whatever the cause, the Indian held 
 to his hunting-ground as no civilized peoples have 
 clung to their native soil. But even so long ago as the 
 early seventies, the Sioux hadjrecognized the fact that 
 the white man was a superior power and that their 
 only hope lay in wresting from the government the 
 best terms possible for the country they must give up^ 
 They were reckless of consequences when they took 
 to the war-path, but they did not choose the trail of 
 death because of a taste for blood, in spite of the 
 savagery they had developed under the treatment they 
 had received. They were a simple people and very 
 much under the control of their chiefs; and with a full 
 knowledge of the fact that they were going to the wall, 
 with the ambitions of Sitting Bull to prompt them, and 
 the desire of revenge on the part of Crazy Horse to im- 
 pel them to retaliation, it was not a difficult matter to 
 organize them into the power that reached its height 
 in the summer of 1876, and drove them in fear and 
 trembling to the treaty made that fall, when they came 
 to appreciate what their punishment would be if they 
 did not give up possession of at least a part of their 
 hunting-grounds. 
 
 And speaking of the campaign of 1876 and the 
 means chosen by the whites to coerce the Indians to a 
 surrender of their hunting-grounds, the late Bishop 
 Whipple of Minnesota, a member of the treaty com- 
 mission of the centennial year, said i^^' I know of no 
 [ 270 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 instance in history where a great nation has so shame- 
 fully violated its oath." ) 
 
 The opening of the Black Hills was, no doubt, ne- 
 cessary to the development of the country; it has added 
 I don't know how many hundreds of millions of dol- 
 lars to the wealth of the owners of the mines; it has 
 given us that perennial delight, the city of Deadwood ; 
 but we might have had all that, and there might have 
 been no graveyard to mark the spot where Custer and 
 his men fell, — a last reminder of the obstinacy of a 
 people who resisted when required to give up the rights 
 vested in them by solemn covenant with the govern- 
 ment, — had the Sioux been fairly dealt with. 
 
 It was prior to the signing of the treaty that the In- 
 dians of Standing Rock and Cheyenne River agencies 
 were disarmed and dismounted, and the power of the 
 Sioux broken. Many thousands of ponies were taken 
 from the Indians at the two agencies, and the disarma- 
 ment was complete so far as the agency Indians were 
 concerned. The working out of the Indian problem 
 might have been made much more simple if the gov- 
 ernment, after disarming and dismounting the people, 
 — taking from them all hope of subsistence by the 
 chase, — had made good the treaty promise of 1868 
 and given them the cows and oxen they were entitled 
 to. It may be said, now, that the dismounting and 
 disarming of these Indians was justified by the pos- 
 sibility that they might have left the reservation. 
 
 In 1882 an attempt was made by a commission com- 
 posed of Governor Newton Edmunds, Judge Peter 
 C. Shannon, and James H. Teller to secure an agree- 
 ment with the Sioux for the purpose of cutting up the 
 [271] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 Great Sioux reservation into separate reservations 
 attached to the various agencies, and opening some 
 fourteen thousand square miles of the Indians' lands 
 to sale and settlement. The agreement failed com- 
 pletely, and this largely because an arousal of public 
 sentiment, and the position of members of the Senate 
 and the administration, stood in the way of a seizure 
 of the Indian lands without the three-fourths consent, 
 the consent of a few chiefs and their followers being 
 held insufficient. The number of signatures agreeing 
 to the proposed act was so absurdly small in proportion 
 to the number of Indians concerned, that the Presi- 
 dent (Arthur) returned the bill and the agreement 
 without recommendation, and stating that the com- 
 mission had failed. 
 
 Out of this failure came the appointment of a Sen- 
 ate committee in 1883, the work of which has been of 
 the highest importance to the Indians. At the head 
 of this committee was Senator Henry L. Dawes, who 
 gave his name to the commission which has so wisely 
 administered the affairs of the five civilized tribes, and 
 with him were associated Senators John A. Logan of 
 Illinois, Angus Cameron of Wisconsin, John T. Mor- 
 gan of Alabama, and George G. Vest of Missouri. 
 The importance of a thorough investigation of the con- 
 dition of the Indians, and the need for the wisest coun- 
 sel in meeting and providing for those needs, were 
 evinced in the personnel of the select committee. A 
 sub-committee, consisting of Senators Dawes, Logan, 
 and Cameron, went exhaustively into the conditions 
 among the Sioux, and found that the people were 
 opposed to the terms of the agreement proposed, stat- 
 ing so in their report, and declared that there was 
 [ 272 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 no possible justification for the further violation of 
 treaty rights, as involved in the taking of the Black 
 Hills. The report had the effect of putting a stop to 
 further attempts of the sort for some years, and this 
 condition obtained without anything more than a 
 constant agitation among the people within the de- 
 partment and without, looking to a cutting up of the 
 reservation. 
 
 At the time the Dawes Committee made its in- 
 vestigation, I was in favor of reducing the size of the 
 reservation and of doing away with gratuities by the 
 government, so far as possible, ^^was convinced that 
 the way to wean the nomad from his habits was to 
 make him a farmer, where the country was adapted 
 to farming ;Uf he was permitted to become a herder, 
 he would retain too many of his old habits. And I told 
 the committee that I would favor the Indian only when 
 he had done something for himself, not gratuitously. 
 If he built a house, pay him ; if he cultivated a piece 
 of land, reward him for his labor; and all these ends 
 could best be realized by reducing the size of the im- 
 mense tract upon which the Teton Sioux were placed. 
 
 It was in 1888 that the next commission was ap- 
 pointed, for the purpose of making a new agreement 
 with the Sioux on the Great reservation. At that time 
 I had been seventeen years among the Sioux Indians, 
 and had come to know something of the Indian char- 
 acter and the sort of treatment that must be accorded 
 the individual if the best results were to be obtained. 
 I had been fortunate enough to secure the confidence 
 of the Indians at Standing Rock, and I felt that I 
 could carry them with me in any measure which I told 
 [ 273 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 them would be for their good. I had also come to a 
 certain understanding of the fact that, whatever the 
 Indian got for himself in the future, he must get by 
 making the best of any bargain proposed by the gov- 
 ernment. I also knew and appreciated the fact that 
 the time was near at hand when the country would 
 need the superfluous Indian lands for the growing 
 population. But I was determined that, so far as I 
 could, within the limits of my official duty, I would 
 counsel the Indians to reject any agreement that did 
 not carry with it a fair compensation for any conces- 
 sions that might be' made. 
 
 In this frame of mind, I received the information 
 that a commission, composed of Captain R. H. Pratt, 
 of the Carlisle Indian School, Judge John V. Wright 
 of Tennessee, and the Reverend William J. Cleveland 
 of South Dakota, had been appointed to negotiate 
 with the Indians and endeavor to procure an agree- 
 ment with them for the cession of all lands west of 
 the 102d degree of west longitude, and between the 
 Cheyenne and White Rivers ; these lands to be added 
 to the public domain, and the Sioux to be compensated 
 at the rate of fifty cents per acre for all disposed of, 
 the money to be credited to the Sioux nation. A fund 
 of a million dollars was to be set aside at once, and the 
 provisions of the treaty of 1868 for the education of 
 the Indians in the science of agriculture, and for other 
 purposes, to be carried out, including the purchase 
 of twenty-five thousand cows and one thousand bulls 
 for distribution, and many other minor details. 
 
 The agreement proposed was not the sort of pro- 
 position I would make to a friend of mine, but the 
 people who were pressing it did not regard the Indian 
 [ 274 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 in the light of a friend. I was made ex officio a mem- 
 ber of the commission, for the purpose of conferring 
 with and procuring the signatures of the Indians at 
 the Standing Rock agency. I knew that the conces- 
 sions the Indians were asked to make were immensely 
 more valuable than was indicated by the compensa- 
 tion proposed; that I was bound in good faith to 
 the Indians of the agency to advise them for their 
 good. Still, I was a member of the commission and 
 could not counsel the Indians to reject the proposals. 
 I asked to be released from service on the commission, 
 and Secretary of the Interior Vilas permitted me to 
 withdraw. Being relieved as a member of the com- 
 mission enabled me to meet more freely with the In- 
 dians as their agent, and, although I did not oppose 
 it, they, being close observers, concluded that the pro- 
 visions of the act did not meet my views, and the 
 longer the commission remained at the agency, the 
 more pronounced the Indians expressed themselves 
 in opposition ; and after remaining thirty-two days at 
 Standing Rock, the commission left for the lower 
 agencies without having accomplished anything other 
 than solidifying the Indians in opposition to the act. 
 I have not hitherto stated my position in the matter, 
 but I thought then and still think that I was justified 
 in not aiding the commission to any greater extent, 
 and in doing that which I regarded was best for the 
 people who looked upon me as their adviser. But it 
 put me in a delicate position, for it was very clear 
 that Secretary Vilas and other influential members of 
 the administration were very desirous that the act be 
 ratified by the Indians. I, also, was desirous of an 
 agreement that would permit the lands not necessary 
 [275] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 for the support of the Indians to be utilized ; but I was 
 the agent for the Standing Rock Indians, and knew 
 that they were not offered any sort of fair compensa- 
 tion, and was convinced that a further trimming of 
 their possessions would set them back by producing 
 in them a sullen disposition. I had conceived the idea 
 that the Indian had rights, and that those rights, if 
 recognized, would inure to the good of both the white 
 man and the Indian. It was certain that an agree- 
 ment would be accomplished on some terms, and that 
 very shortly, but that the public interest would suffer 
 no material wrong if the consummation of the agree- 
 ment were postponed for a year or two. 
 
 The agreement received but a few signatures at 
 Standing Rock, and fared little better at the lower 
 agencies, while three fourths of all the Indians must 
 give their consent to make the act operative. There 
 were councils at Standing Rock, Crow Creek, and 
 Lower Brule agencies, and subsequently a general 
 council, attended by the head men of the various 
 agencies, at Lower Brule, and here it became evident 
 that there was no hope of getting anything like the 
 necessary signatures. Captain Pratt communicated 
 with the Secretary of the Interior, and the agents were 
 ordered to return with their delegations to their re- 
 spective reservations. 
 
 I took my people and returned home, to find an 
 order there, dated October 3, 1888, directing me to 
 proceed with a delegation of fourteen Indians and an 
 interpreter to Washington City, meeting delegations 
 from the other agencies at Chicago ; and on the night 
 of October 14, the- great chiefs of the Sioux nation 
 were together in Washington. I had taken with me 
 [ 276 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 from Standing Rock, John Grass, Gall, Mad Bear, 
 and Big Head. These men had been the speakers for 
 the Standing Rock people at the councils, and Grass 
 had established for himself a great reputation as a 
 lawyer and catechist, meeting and parrying all the 
 interrogatories of the commission, and frequently 
 stumping the members by his knowledge of the In- 
 dian laws and treaties. The other members of my 
 delegation were Sitting Bull, Two Bears, High Bear, 
 Walking Eagle, Fire Heart, Thunder Hawk, Bear's 
 Rib, Gray Eagle, Hairy Chin, and High Eagle, with 
 Louis Primeau as interpreter. 
 
 The Cheyenne River delegates were White Swan, 
 Charger, Swift Bird, Little No Heart, Spotted Eagle, 
 Narcisse Narcelle, Spotted Elk, Crow Eagle, Little 
 Bear, and William Larabee. 
 
 From Crow Creek, White Ghost, Drifting Goose, 
 Bowed Head, Wizi, Dog Back, William Carpenter, 
 and Mark Wells. 
 
 From the Lower Brule, Big Mane, Fire Thunder, 
 Bull Head, Medicine Bull, Standing Cloud, and Alec 
 Rencontre. 
 
 From Santee, Joe Campbell and Philip Webster. 
 
 From Rosebud, Two Strikes, Ring Thunder, Swift 
 Bear, Ugly Wild Horse, Black Bull, Eagle Horse, 
 Good Voice, Red Fish, Quick Bear, Pretty Eagle, 
 He Dog, Sky Bull, Yellow Hair, Stranger Horse, High 
 Pipe and Thomas Flood. 
 
 From Pine Ridge, Little Wound, Pretty Lance, 
 American Horse, Little Hawk, Many Bears, No Flesh, 
 George Sword, Standing Soldier, Little Chief, Fast 
 Thunder, Standing Elk, and Phillip Wells. 
 
 A more able crowd of Indian orators and politi- 
 [ 277 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 cians had not been gathered before in Washington. 
 There were seventy-two men in the delegation, and, 
 in order to give any color to an agreement, it would 
 be necessary to have the signatures of three fourths of 
 these, to hope for its acceptance by the required three- 
 fourths majority of the Indians of the reservation. I 
 was content when Captain Pratt domiciled the Rose- 
 bud delegation with that from Standing Rock at the 
 Belvidere Hotel, for I knew my people could not be 
 moved, and the presence of the chiefs from Standing 
 Rock would serve to keep the others in line — though 
 Rosebud was solid enough against the ratification of 
 the act. 
 
 A meeting was called for the next morning, but the 
 Indians were not ready for the council. A speech by 
 Swift Bird of the Cheyenne River delegation secured 
 a postponement — though the secretary was anxious 
 to get the hearing along — by saying that the Indians 
 had been on the train so long that their brains were 
 rocking, and they were like drunken men. It was 
 Saturday morning, and the council was put over until 
 Monday. 
 
 I shall not soon forget the next day, Sunday. The In- 
 dians had been invited to attend the different churches, 
 there being no secular amusement provided for them, 
 and Father Chappelle, — later archbishop, now de- 
 ceased, — then of St. Matthew's church, extended an 
 invitation to the Catholics among them to attend his 
 church, and I was asked to accompany them. The 
 majority of the delegation fell into line, and were taken 
 to St. Matthew's church in two special cars; and I 
 remember that they attracted so much attention in 
 the body of the church that Father Mackin, assistant 
 [ 278 ] 
 
JOHN GRASS 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 pastor, came and asked me if it would not be well for 
 them to be seated in the gallery, from which they might 
 see without being seen, which was most pleasing to 
 the Indians, as it enabled them to see the entire con- 
 gregation. After service, a lunch was provided in the 
 rectory, which the Indians enjoyed very much, to the 
 utter chagrin of their fellow delegates, whom they 
 joked upon their return to the hotel for not having 
 chosen the right church to attend — the others not 
 having fallen into an impromptu banquet. 
 
 Monday morning the conference took place in the 
 oflSce of the Assistant Attorney-General for the In- 
 terior Department. Secretary Vilas, Commissioner of 
 Indian Affairs Oberly, members of the Senate and 
 House Committees on Indian Affairs, the three mem- 
 bers of the Sioux commission, five of the Sioux In- 
 dian agents, and the Indian delegations were present. 
 The first council was largely preliminary, and at the 
 council held the following day the Indians refused 
 assent to the proposition. The Secretary then asked 
 them what their objections were to the act ; whereupon 
 John Grass made a speech, followed by American 
 Horse and other Indian delegates, with Louis Primeau 
 interpreting, giving reasons why they could not assent 
 to the act as presented. The Secretary then directed 
 them to put their objections and wishes into writing, 
 and submit them to him the following day, which they 
 said they would endeavor to comply with, and council 
 was then adjourned for the day. 
 
 The Indians returned to their hotel for a conference, 
 
 and in half an hour sent a messenger to the chairman 
 
 of the commission, with the request that I be sent to 
 
 aid them in drawing up their proposition. This was 
 
 [ 279 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 formulated soon enough and put on paper. It con- 
 sented to the partition of the Great Sioux reservation, 
 but asked $1.25 an acre for all the lands that would 
 be ceded, and a certain interest-bearing fund to be 
 placed to their credit in the United States Treasury. 
 This proposal was signed by forty-seven members of 
 the delegation, while fourteen of the others signed a 
 minority report practically agreeing to the terms of- 
 fered by the commission. 
 
 When the proposal was handed to the Sioux com- 
 mission, they submitted it to Secretary Vilas, who 
 would not accept it, and the commission gave the 
 Indians up in disgust. Indeed, I had to make a per- 
 sonal effort in order to get the chairman to secure for 
 the Indians an audience with President Cleveland, 
 an honor that had been promised them, and which 
 must be granted or they would be deeply grieved. I 
 succeeded in having the promised audience with the 
 President brought about, and the several delegations 
 left for their respective reservations the same evening. 
 I brought the Indians back home, and the matter was 
 dropped until the following spring, when I knew that 
 a further effort would be made. 
 
 The act of March 2, 1889, provided for another 
 agreement much more liberal than that of the previous 
 year, as it contained several of the provisions asked 
 for in the majority proposition of the Indians of Oc- 
 tober 19, 1888; and a commission consisting of ex- 
 Governor Charles Foster of Ohio, Major General 
 George Crook, U. S. A., and Major William Warner 
 of Kansas City, Missouri, now United States Senator 
 from Missouri, was appointed to negotiate with the 
 Indians for its acceptance. I concluded that the terms 
 [ 280 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 proposed by the new act were all that could reason- 
 ably be obtained, but I knew that the Indians as a 
 body were opposed to ceding any portion of the reser- 
 vation, and that it was clearly my business to get them 
 into another state of mind. I had some hope of being 
 able to do so, and, as a preliminary, I sent the men to 
 the leaders whom the Indians knew I trusted, to tell 
 them not to bind themselves by oath — as they had 
 done the previous year — to reject the proposals of 
 the commissioners. 
 
 John Grass and Gall, upon whom I depended very 
 largely, were important and influential men. But 
 Grass had led in the talks made in the councils of the 
 previous year. He had elaborated arguments which 
 were monuments of logic, and he was rather proud of 
 his unassailable position. Gall had stood solidly up to 
 the position he had taken. And now they were asked 
 to change front — though the act to be submitted was 
 in accord, except in minor details, with the proposi- 
 tion they had signed in Washington the previous Oc- 
 tober. 
 
 The commission met first at Rosebud and obtained 
 a good many signatures to the agreement. Then they 
 proceeded to the other agencies, and at Pine Ridge, 
 Santee, Lower Brule, Crow Creek, and Cheyenne 
 River progressed so far that the acceptance or re- 
 jection of the agreement lay with the Standing Rock 
 people. It was estimated that if six hundred signa- 
 tures could be had at Standing Rock, the act would 
 be concurred in by the required number of Indians 
 interested. 
 
 The commissioners arrived at Standing Rock, 
 traveling by steamboat up the Missouri, July 25, and 
 [281 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 were entertained by the oflficers at Fort Yates. The 
 Indians, who had arrived at the agency in great num- 
 bers, were greatly interested and rather excited. I 
 met the commissioners upon their arrival, and was 
 told by General Crook that they required six hundred 
 signatures ; that they believed I had suflScient influence 
 with the Indians to get them, and they looked to me 
 to help them make the agreement. The commissioners 
 asked to have the Indians assembled in council the 
 next day that the matter might be explained ; and this 
 I did. The council was a brief one, the Indians saying 
 that they wanted time to hold their own councils 
 before they could talk; and it was adjourned until 
 Monday. 
 
 All day Sunday I was much concerned about the 
 matter, for I could see that, unless the Indians were 
 strongly urged, they would reject the agreement. Sun- 
 day evening I went over to the military post at Fort 
 Yates and had a talk with Major Hugh G. Brown, of 
 the Twelfth Infantry. For years we had been fast 
 friends, and I felt the necessity for talking the matter 
 over with some trustworthy person. I knew the future 
 of the Sioux might depend on their action on the agree- 
 ment; that if they rejected it. Congress might proceed 
 to act without their consent. I laid the matter before 
 Major Brown; told him I had been passive where I 
 had not been opposed to the rejected proposition of 
 the previous year, but had almost concluded that it 
 was my duty actively to support this new measure, 
 and procure its acceptance. He said he had been con- 
 vinced of my attitude as to the proposition of 1888, 
 and had heartily approved of it, but he now thought 
 that the time was come to accept this measure. Before 
 [ 282 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 going home, a casual meeting took place that decided 
 the matter. 
 
 I was going past the quarters of Colonel Townsend, 
 the post commandant, where General Crook was 
 quartered, when I was hailed from the porch and 
 General Crook greeted me. I went up on the porch 
 and told the general I would like to talk to him and 
 the other members of the commission. They were 
 gotten together, and we talked at Captain (now Brig- 
 adier General) Craigie's quarters, where Governor 
 Foster was stopping. I told them what the situation 
 was, of my attitude the previous year, and of the 
 temper of the Indians ; that I was now willing to have 
 the matter go through, but it must not be pressed too 
 hurriedly, as it would require some time for me to 
 prepare the Indians for the change; and it was ar- 
 ranged that a council should be held each day, and 
 the Indians permitted to do all the talking they wanted 
 to. 
 
 I assured the commission that, should a few con- 
 cessions be granted, the necessary signatures would 
 be secured in three days after the rolls were pre- 
 sented. General Crook and the other commissioners 
 agreed that they would use their personal efforts to 
 get the concurrence of Congress to the concessions 
 required, which would provide for an additional ap- 
 propriation of two hundred thousand dollars to reim- 
 burse the Sioux of Standing Rock and Cheyenne 
 River agencies for the ponies taken from them by the 
 military in 1876; would guarantee the maintenance 
 of the schools provided for in the act presented for 
 ratification, to be chargeable to the cession of 1868 
 for the full term of twenty years, — this provision of 
 [ 283 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 the treaty of 1868 having been permitted to slum- 
 ber until about ten years had expired, — and certain 
 fixed interpretations were to be made of vague sections 
 of the act. 
 
 For three days councils were held, and every day 
 Grass, Gall, Mad Bear, and Big Head talked against 
 the proposition. They knew I had changed my atti- 
 tude, but they did not change their front — except 
 that there was none of the keen pursuit of the com- 
 missioners that had been indulged in by Grass during 
 the councils of the previous year. On Wednesday, I 
 concluded that the time had come to act, but to act 
 with caution. Grass and the other chiefs must be 
 gotten into line. 
 
 That evening Mrs. McLaughlin entertained the 
 commission at our quarters, at which reception all of 
 the officers and ladies of the garrison were present. 
 While everybody was engaged, I slipped away, ac- 
 companied by Louis Primeau, interpreter, whom I 
 depended on absolutely in my dealings with the Hunk- 
 papa and Blackfeet, and drove to Nick Cadotte's 
 place, five miles from the agency. Cadotte was the 
 brother-in-law of John Grass, and I had arranged 
 with him to have Grass meet me at his house. The 
 movements of Grass being closely watched by the 
 Indians, he was afraid to meet me in Cadotte's house, 
 and suggested a vacant building near by. I complied 
 with this request, and we had a talk. I told him that 
 the time had come to recede from the position taken 
 the previous year; that the agreement must be ac- 
 cepted or Congress might pass the law regardless of 
 the attitude of the Indians in the premises. Grass 
 was an honest man and always stood for the best 
 [284] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 interests of his people, but in order to meet my views 
 now, he would have to recede from the position he 
 had maintained in council and in private for a long 
 time. I told him that if the act was not concurred in, 
 a worse thing might happen: that legislation might 
 be enacted which would open the resers'ation without 
 requiring the consent of the Indians; and I labored 
 with him until he agreed that he would speak for its 
 ratification and work for it. When he said that, I 
 knew that the matter was settled and the concur- 
 rence of the Indians assured; but he would not con- 
 sent to explain the matter to Gall — in that he was 
 emphatic. I suspect that he felt he was responsible 
 for the original attitude of that chief, and had not the 
 courage to broach the change to him. I went to Gall 
 myself, also to Mad Bear and Big Head, and told 
 them what I had done and what was left to be done, 
 and got them to agree to support the proposition. 
 
 I had arranged with Grass that the Indians were 
 to talk the next day in the line of asking concessions, 
 then to formulate the concessions, in which I in- 
 structed him; and finally we fixed up the speech he 
 was to make receding from his former position grace- 
 fully, thus to bring him the active support of the other 
 chiefs and settle the matter. 
 
 The council the next day was the biggest held at 
 Standing Rock in many years. It was held within an 
 enclosure made by placing branches of trees, which 
 would temper the sun's rays for the people and ora- 
 tors, around three sides of a large parallelogram. The 
 fourth side was bounded by the wall of the warehouse, 
 and the platform upon which the commissioners and 
 officials sat was directlv in front of the doors leading 
 '[ 285 J 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 into the building. I had an idea that there might 
 possibly be some disturbance, and I proposed that, 
 as the people signed the rolls, they should pass out 
 through the warehouse. But there was no occasion 
 for concern that day. Grass did most of the talking, 
 and he changed his base with the facility of a states- 
 man. He led the way up to asking for concessions and 
 then asked for them. They were granted. Gall talked 
 a little after Grass had concluded, and Mad Bear and 
 Big Head followed after the leaders, and it was ap- 
 parent, when the council adjourned for the day, that 
 the people generally were going to accept their leader- 
 ship. 
 
 I had Sitting Bull and the so-called hostiles still to 
 deal with, and I knew that, if given an opportunity, 
 Bull would make some sort of demonstration. 
 
 The following day every Indian who could get to 
 the agency was present. I had instructed Two Bears, 
 the chief of the Lower Yanktonais, to place his band 
 so as to maintain a compact four-column formation 
 around the semicircle, and directed the captain of the 
 Indian police to station his men so as to protect the 
 orators and quell any disposition on the part of the 
 hostile faction. When the talking had been finished 
 and the rolls were ready for signature, there was a 
 good deal of excitement, and Sitting Bull, at the head 
 of about twenty of his followers, put in an appearance, 
 mounted, on the outside of the semicircle, and en- 
 deavored to stampede the Indians and break up the 
 council, but failed in his attempt. 
 
 Grass, Mad Bear, and Big Head signed. It had 
 been arranged that Gall should sign third, that is, 
 following Mad Bear; it was a coveted distinction and 
 [ 286 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 belonged to him of right; but there was such a dis- 
 turbance all about him, that he feared bodily injury 
 from some of the Sitting Bull Hunkpapa, and while 
 he hesitated Chief Bear Face of the Hunkpapa 
 stepped up and signed in his place. When the first 
 four signatures were attached, and the signers pre- 
 pared to pass out through the warehouse, Mrs. 
 McLaughlin, who was standing near the open door 
 of the building, reported that Sitting Bull and some 
 of his followers were making a demonstration out in 
 front and trouble was imminent. Lieutenant Bull 
 Head was prepared for such an emergency, and rush- 
 ing with his detachment of police to the front of the 
 building, soon quelled the disturbance, by forcing 
 Sitting Bull and his mounted squad to vacate the 
 grounds. 
 
 During the excitement, I caught up the rolls my- 
 self, to prevent their possible injury, and ordered the 
 people in the council to remain quiet. I told them 
 that order must be preserved and every man should 
 have an opportunity to use his own judgment; that 
 the four men they looked up to as their leaders had 
 signed the instrument of acceptance, but that what 
 they had done was not binding on any one but them- 
 selves, and that every man should do as he pleased, 
 without interference; and the signing of the agree- 
 ment was then resumed. The talk was made at the 
 right time, order was restored, and the people crowded 
 forward to attach their names. Before the commission- 
 ers left, they had over six hundred signatures, which 
 was all they then believed was required; but when 
 they reached St. Paul, they ascertained that they had 
 not enough names. They had left the rolls with me, 
 [ 287 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 and sent word back that more names were needed. 
 We gave them eight hundred and three names at 
 Standing Rock before the rolls were closed. 
 
 The following December, I took John Grass, Gall, 
 Mad Bear, Bear Face, and Big Head to Washington, 
 where we were met by delegations from the other 
 Sioux agencies, and additional legislation for the pay- 
 ment for ponies taken by the military from the Indi- 
 ans in 1876 was enacted by Congress that session, to 
 meet the concessions promised by the commissioners 
 at the Standing Rock agency. And the conditions 
 agreed upon were faithfully carried out. 
 
 This is the history of the treaty-making with the 
 Teton Sioux. The government has faithfully kept 
 the promise made in the last agreement, and the peo- 
 ple have prospered. The conditions under which the 
 last agreement was made were such as to show the 
 Indians that their rights were to be respected, and the 
 fact that they were well affected to the government 
 was demonstrated the next year, during the trying 
 times of the ghost-dancing, when, in spite of the al- 
 lurements of a new religious movement, which ap- 
 pealed strongly to the Indian nature, the people, with 
 comparatively few exceptions, remained loyal to the 
 whites, and the agent had the vast majority of them 
 at all times under control. 
 
 The Teton Sioux made it his boast for many years 
 that he had not killed a white man ; there was another 
 period when the same Sioux was very busy killing 
 what whites he could get in range of, and he showed 
 himself a soldier of rare ability. But the disposition of 
 this stalwart, simple-minded people to do what was 
 [ 288 ] 
 
THE MAKING AND BREAKING OF TREATIES 
 
 right was easily enough developed, when the rights 
 they had fought for and been promised began to be 
 respected by the whites, and the Indian was treated 
 like a man. x^ 
 
 The history of treaty-making with the Sioux is the 
 history of the treaty-making with all the Indians. 
 •The treaties were made for the accommodation of 
 the whites, and broken when they interfered with the 
 money-getters. \There never was a time in the history 
 of this country when the government could not have 
 obtained any reasonable concession from the Indians, 
 if it had treated the red men honestly ; and I know of 
 few — and those isolated cases — Indian outbreaks 
 which were not preceded by acts of oppression prac- 
 ticed by the civilized people on the barbarians; and 
 like barbarians those same people revenged them- 
 selves. < There is no possible justification for the bar- 
 barities practiced by the Indians when they were 
 aroused to dig up the hatchet, but the Indian wars 
 generally have been in the nature of fierce reprisals 
 for injuries sustained. That the Indian has not always 
 discriminated between the innocent and the guilty in 
 taking his revenge, is certain — else had there been 
 no Minnesota massacre. If his sense of justice had 
 led him to fine discrimination in these matters, the 
 red man would long ago have made an attack on 
 the national Capitol. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 Fourteen Years of Indian Diplomacy — Dealing with the Shoshones* 
 and Arapahoes — Getting Title to the Great Pipestone Quarry — How 
 a Cheyenne Indian can Die. 
 
 IN January, 1895, I declined an appointment as 
 assistant commissioner of Indian Affairs. Hon. 
 Hoke Smith, afterwards governor of Georgia, was 
 the Secretary of the Interior, and he made the tender 
 of the appointment under conditions that made the 
 declination embarrassing, because it was so flattering. 
 Fourteen agents had been called to Washington for 
 conference. We had a meeting with the Secretary, 
 and it fell to my lot to answer many of the questions 
 propounded by him. I had a great and vital interest 
 in the Indian work and knew the people. I had, 
 moreover, very fixed ideas as. to how they should be 
 treated. After the conference the Secretary made an 
 appointment for me to meet him privately. I met him 
 next morning, and he told me that President Cleve- 
 land had selected me for the position of assistant 
 commissioner. I declined, for the reason that I pre- 
 ferred service in the field, which would keep me in 
 direct touch with the Indian. I told the Secretary that 
 I had certain ideas as to how the Indian should be 
 treated, and did not wish to be in a position where 
 I would be tempted to apply these ideas and possi- 
 bly be overruled by the commissioner. Besides, the 
 place was subject to change with a change of admin- 
 [ 290 ] 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 istration, and I was not minded to be so situated that 
 I might be forced out of the service by the exigencies 
 of politics. 
 
 Secretary Smith said that he would have the posi- 
 tion placed under civil-service rules, making it con- 
 tinuous, but I persisted in my declination and then 
 the Secretary said : — 
 
 "The President is desirous of giving you some sort 
 of recognition and a broader field for your work. 
 Will you accept an inspectorship.?" 
 
 I told him at once that I would, — that the work 
 would be congenial and I thought I could be useful 
 in the field. An appointment was made for me to 
 remain and see the President after the other agents 
 had left. An audience was given all of us by Presi- 
 dent Cleveland the next day, and the matter was set- 
 tled. 
 
 Secretary Smith paid me the compliment of asking 
 who I thought would make a desirable agent to suc- 
 ceed me at Standing Rock, and I recommended John 
 W. Cramsie of St. Paul, Minnesota. Mr. Cramsie 
 had succeeded me at Devils Lake, and had declined 
 a third reappointment at that agency. He knew the 
 Sioux, and I had confidence in his ability to manage 
 the Standing Rock people. He was appointed to the 
 place, and I took the position of inspector and began 
 active work on the first of the following April, though 
 my appointment ran from the 19th of January. 
 
 Treaty-making with the Indians has been my busi- 
 ness very generally since my appointment as inspector. 
 I have made all the treaties, — or agreements, as they 
 are designated now, legally, — with two exceptions, 
 that have been entered into in the past thirteen years. 
 [291 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 There was a treaty-making commission that was or- 
 ganized in President Cleveland's last term, but the 
 commission made only two treaties in the several 
 years of its existence, — one known as the Fort Hall 
 treaty, and the other with the Crows. 
 
 This constant treating with many tribes has 
 brought me into close personal contact with practically 
 all of the Indian tribes of the country. From the 
 Chippewas of Minnesota, in the northeast, to the 
 Mission Indians of California, in the southwest, I 
 have dealt with all the red people, consummating 
 numerous agreements and other important negotia- 
 tions. In the list of Indians who were parties to these 
 agreements, were many tribes who would not appear 
 in the enumeration of the agreements themselves, for 
 it is frequently the case in the Pacific Coast agencies 
 that remnants of many tribes are gathered on a single 
 reservation. And I might say now that I believe the 
 solution of the Indian problem is brought very much 
 nearer to us by this mixing of the tribes. 
 
 I had recently occasion to visit a remote agency in 
 Califo rnia at the Round Valley school. The reserva- 
 tion is located in the heart of the Coast Range moun- 
 tains, forty-odd miles from the nearest railroad point 
 and approachable only by a mountainous and difficult 
 road. It is cut off from the world by its difficulty of 
 access. On this reservation there were gathered dur- 
 ing the third quarter of the last century fragments of 
 bands belonging generally to the Digger tribe, with 
 a couple of remnants of people that were not classified 
 as Diggers. fThese bands, or sub-tribes, spoke differ- 
 ent languages. They had been widely scattered and 
 much persecuted. They had some traditional customs 
 [ 292 ] 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 in common, and they were very far down in the scale J 
 of humanity. Being confined on the one reservation, f 
 they were compelled to adopt a common language, [ 
 and they took to the English as the readiest mode for | 
 a common tongue. This necessarily broke down the \ 
 Indian barrier of a language foreign to that used by 
 the whites, and made easy their conversion to other 
 customs of the white people. 
 
 I have no hesitancy in saying that these people, who ; 
 were so far down in the scale of humanity a couple / 
 of generations ago, are now further advanced than | 
 * nine tenths of the Indians in the country. They have \ 
 received no government aid, have been compelled to j 
 *' rustle" for subsistence, and are at least the equals I 
 of the whites who live in the country surrounding \ 
 them. They demonstrate positively the tenability of 
 my theory that the Indian problem will solve itself 
 as soon as the Indian is shown that he must depend J 
 entirely on his own resources; that \ke government,,/ 
 has nothing more in store for him.) 'i^hese people — 
 Concows, Wylackies, Ukies, and several other bands 
 — are prosperous and enlightened. Almost invariably 
 they have attained to some sort of independence, and 
 are rather better off than the white people among 
 whom they live. 
 
 Indians are shrewder in diplomacy than might be 
 expected by those who judge of their capacity from 
 the manner in which they have been deprived of their 
 native riches. In the hard school of adversity they 
 have learned a great deal, and I have found among 
 them many men who, had they been educated, would 
 have made excellent lawyers. It is true that I have 
 generally succeeded in making the agreements that 
 [ 293 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 I have offered the Indians, but this success was ra- 
 ther due to the manner of the negotiation than be- 
 cause the agreements were desired by the Indians. 
 This I have effected by permitting the other parties 
 to the agreement to take the position of making the 
 terms themselves. In almost every instance, the atti- 
 tude of the Indian in the beginning has been that of 
 opposition to the proposed agreement, but they have 
 always come around to the other point of view. It 
 has been simply a matter of showing them, by illus- 
 trations they would understand, that what was pro- 
 posed would be best for them in the long run. 
 
 They are simple-minded people, and direct argu- 
 ments must be made to them ; but they are no longer 
 amenable to the argument that used to take the form 
 of feasting them. Many successful treaty-makers 
 used this method most effectively. General Crook 
 was known among the Sioux as "the pony-and-grub 
 man." On one occasion, when I was negotiating an 
 agreement with the Red Lake Chippewas of Minne- 
 sota, for the cession of a portion of their reservation, 
 one of the chiefs, who was originally opposed to the 
 proposition submitted, said that the beef that was 
 piled on the porch was there for the purpose of se- 
 ducing his young men. I know not if that be true, but 
 he ate some of the beef, and signed the agreement. 
 
 Practically all of the so-called agreements made 
 with the Indians in these latter days concern the ces- 
 sion of lands that have been parts of Indian reserva- 
 tions. Among the agreements which I have negoti- 
 ated are those which opened to settlement large areas 
 in South Dakota and other states, and with this fea- 
 ture of the land-openings the public is not familiar. 
 [ 294 ] 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 The method of procedure in treaty-making is nearly 
 always the same, the argument being adapted to 
 local conditions. In the list of treaties in which I 
 represented the government and was successful in 
 having them accepted, the proposition in every case 
 arising with the government, are-.-thi:ee^agr-eem<?nts 
 with the Shoshones and Arapahoes, two tribes located 
 on the same reservation in Wyoming; with the Lower 
 Brules, the Sioux of the Rosebud agency, ceding the 
 land that caused the rush to Bonesteel, South Dakota, 
 in 1904, and again in 1909; with the Otoes and 
 Missourias ; with the Klamaths and Modocs ; with the 
 .Northern Chevenne s ; with the Grande Rondes ; with 
 the Yanktons for the Pipestone quarry; with the 
 Sioux of Devils Lake, North Dakota; with the Red 
 Lake Chippewas; with the Mille Lacs Chippewas; 
 with the Sioux of the Cheyenne River agency, for 
 grazing leases and cattle-trails, also for a large cession 
 of lands, in 1908 ; with the Standing Rock Sioux, the 
 Pah-Utes of Walker River, Nevada; with the Port 
 Madison Indians, Washington, and with the Mor- 
 mons of Tuba City, Arizona, — the latter being an 
 agreement for the relinquishment of land held by 
 them, and necessary for the extension of the Moqui 
 reservation. 
 
 ^ My first agreement was with the Shoshones and 
 Arapahoes of Wyoming. They are distinct tribes, 
 occupying the Wind River reservation, and a drive 
 of one hundred and fifty miles from Rawlins on the 
 Union Pacific Road landed me at the agency. Both 
 tribes had gathered at the agency for the discussion 
 of the treaty, and the matter was a delicate one for the 
 reason that tribal jealousy existed and each tribe 
 [ 295 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 feared that the other would get an advantage. The 
 agreement proposed required the assent and signa- 
 tures of a majority of all the male adults of each tribe. 
 
 Indian human nature is pretty much the same the 
 country over, and although I knew nothing of either 
 the Shoshones or Arapahoes by personal contact, I 
 knew them as Indians. As a matter of fact, my know- 
 ledge of the Sioux language has made it possible for 
 me to get along in conversation, with the assistance 
 of the sign language, with most of the Indians east of 
 the Rocky Mountains and north of Texas. The Sho- 
 shones were very different from the Sioux, and had 
 even been on fighting terms with them in my time. 
 The Arapahoes were regarded by the Shoshones as 
 interlopers to a certain extent. The reservation had 
 originally been Shoshone country, and the Arapahoes 
 had been located there as a matter of expediency. 
 
 The Arapahoes were as strong, numerically, as the 
 Shoshones, but the latter had the advantage of a 
 spokesman whose gift of language and acquirements 
 made him a man to be regarded with some respect. 
 His name was George Terry, a mixed blood, an elder 
 of the Mormon church and a talker of some ability. 
 He happened to favor the proposed cession, but, if he 
 had not, it would not have made any difference with 
 his advocacy. It has frequently occurred that the 
 Indians in council have come to a conclusion opposed 
 to the views of their spokesmen, and I have listened 
 to some very forcible arguments made by Indians 
 whose personal views were diametrically opposed to 
 the sentiment they were compelled to express in 
 council with me. 
 
 The proposition that I had to make to the Sho- 
 [ 296 ] 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 shones and Arapahoes had been, in effect, submitted 
 to them before by special commissions. One com- 
 mission went out in 1891, working upon an appro- 
 priation of five thousand dollars that had been made 
 for the purpose of effecting the agreement. The com- 
 mission failed in its object. Another commission was 
 sent out two years later, with a similar appropriation, 
 and returned empty-handed. I knew that the Indi- 
 ans could never be induced to accept the agreement 
 if it was put to them as a business proposition. I took 
 the Indian point of view in approaching them. Sharp 
 Nose, the chief of the Arapahoes, was married to a 
 Sioux woman. I could not speak Arapahoe, but he 
 understood Sioux. I went with him out over a portion 
 of the reservation where there had been some com- 
 plaints of whites trespassing. And I talked Sioux to 
 him. 
 
 The Canon of the Wind River is a marvelous form- 
 ation, and I saw and admired his country. It is really 
 such a grand work of nature that I believe, when the 
 transportation problem has been solved in that coun- 
 try, it will rival the Yellowstone Park and the Grand 
 Canon of the Colorado as an attraction for lovers of 
 scenic grandeur. Sharp Nose may have appreciated 
 my admiration for his country. He may have been 
 impressed by the fact that I could talk to him directly 
 and without the aid of an interpreter. 
 
 Washakie, the chief of the Shoshones, then a man 
 of eighty-eight years, also became my friend. He was 
 a strong man and a great warrior. I had heard the 
 story of how he retained the chieftainship of his tribe 
 after he had become a very old man. I told him the 
 story, and it pleased him very much. 
 [ 297 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 As I heard it, Washakie was part Shoshone and 
 part Umatilla. He had retained his domination over 
 the tribe up to the time he was seventy years of age, 
 but some of the ambitious younger men thought it 
 time that he should give way to another chief. The 
 matter was brought up in council. Washakie heard 
 it discussed, and action on the resolution was post- 
 poned. That night he disappeared, and nothing was 
 seen of him until the time appointed, two moons later, 
 for action on the resolution to depose him. The date 
 of the postponed council arrived. The head men 
 and warriors were assembled in the council lodge, and 
 there was much speculation as to the whereabouts of 
 the chief. No man had heard of him. The country 
 beyond that of the Shoshones was not safe for a man 
 of that tribe to be alone in. They were a warlike peo- 
 ple and had a standing quarrel with outsiders. The 
 men of the council feared that Washakie had gone to 
 his death in a state of pique, because it was proposed 
 to depose him. While the council was in session, the 
 flap of the lodge was thrown open and Washakie 
 stalked in. He threw down before the council six 
 scalps taken from the heads of the enemies of the 
 Shoshones. 
 
 "Let him who would take my place count as many 
 scalps," said Washakie. 
 
 There was no more talk of deposing him. 
 
 I concluded to make a trip over the reservation 
 before entering upon the negotiations, and proposed 
 to the chiefs of the two tribes that they each appoint 
 a committee of three men to accompany me. Wash- 
 akie was too old to go himself, and he appointed his 
 son and successor, Dick Washakie, and two others to 
 [298] 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 go. Sharp Nose took two of his men, and went him- 
 self. In starting on the expedition I did, almost un- 
 consciously, something that brought me very close to 
 the Indians. Major Loud of the Ninth Cavalry, now 
 retired, the commander at the post of Fort Washakie, 
 Wyoming, had warned me not to attempt the trail 
 through the Red Canon ; that there was a road forty 
 miles longer, but safe. The other officers joined in 
 Major Loud's advice. Sharp Nose said that he knew 
 the trail. I thanked Major Loud and said I would 
 follow the advice of Sharp Nose. That settled the 
 matter with the Arapahoe chief, and when that night 
 I talked Sioux with him, and he recalled how he had 
 visited Sitting Bull at Standing Rock when I was 
 agent and had provided him with food for the jour- 
 ney home, I knew there would be no question about 
 the acceptance of the treaty by the Arapahoes. All 
 through the magnificence of the Red Canon I went 
 with the Indians, and promised them that if the agree- 
 ment was made, the right should be reserved to them 
 and their children forever, of bathing in the thermal 
 baths that their forefathers had used. I separated 
 from them at the mouth of Owl Creek, and returned 
 to the agency by another route, appointing to meet 
 them at the agency in council on the following Mon- 
 day. 
 
 The matter was settled before the council began. 
 The session was of the briefest. I told the people what 
 I thought they should do, and adjourned the council 
 for three hours. During the adjournment there was 
 a feast, and when the council met again they were 
 ready to accept the agreement. It was simply an 
 affair of meeting the Indian on his own ground and 
 [ 299 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 establishing a precedent in treaty-making which led 
 to my occupation as treaty-maker for many years. 
 
 The Yankton Sioux owned, or claimed the owner- 
 ship of, the famous pipestone quarry at Pipestone, 
 Minnesota. Before Longfellow cast the glamour of 
 romance about the pipestone quarry and attracted the 
 attention of the English-speaking world to its exist- 
 ence, it was a sacred place to the Indians of a great 
 portion of the country. From time immemorial, it 
 has been a place of sanctuary. Warring bands and 
 tribes fought about it; but since the pipestone was 
 first found red, no Indian has shed blood on the 
 ground. The Indian tradition is that there was a 
 great battle between two warring tribes, and that so 
 much blood was spilled that it soaked into the ground 
 and turned the clay red. Since that day no Indian has 
 shed blood at the quarry. The Sioux, pursued by the 
 Chippewa or Winnebago, who could reach the pipe- 
 stone quarry was safe, — his life was inviolate so long 
 as he remained under the protection of the spirits who 
 guarded the pipestone. It was a place of sanctuary, 
 as safe as was the church of the Middle Ages. 
 
 From all parts of the country Indians came to cut 
 out the red pipestone, mining for it in the dry bed of 
 the creek and distributing the material for pipes over 
 a vast area of country in which the white man had not 
 yet set foot. The clay was easily cut out, being of the 
 consistency of hard cheese. On exposure to the air 
 it hardened, and was carved into the various forms 
 affected by the Indian artisan in pipe-making. The 
 land upon which the quarry is located was held by the 
 Sioux for many years. In their wars with the Chippe- 
 was and Winnebagoes they eventually asserted their 
 [ 300 ] 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 right to the territory in the midst of which the quarry 
 lies. But the place they had so jealously guarded for 
 generations was entirely overlooked by the bands of 
 the Sioux who were parties to the various treaties, 
 with the exception of the Yanktons. 
 
 In the treaty of 1858 this band incidentally re- 
 served their title to the pipestone quarry, and spe- 
 cifically by their agreement of 1893, under the provi- 
 sions of an act passed through the influence of the 
 then Senator Frank A. Pettigrew, of South Dakota, 
 which provided that, if the Supreme Court did not 
 decide otherwise in one year from the date of the rati- 
 fication of the agreement, the tract of land embracing 
 the quarry should belong to the Yankton Sioux. The 
 Yanktons filed notice of their ownership at the expi- 
 ration of the year specified, and proceeded to claim 
 the land. There are six hundred and forty-eight acres 
 in the tract involved in the claim. The other Sioux 
 tribes set up claims to equal ownership with the 
 Yanktons, but the latter had established their right by 
 the reservation incorporated in the treaty of 1858. 
 In the spring of 1899 I was sent to treat with the 
 Yanktons for the cession of the tract upon which the 
 pipestone quarry is located, and upon which there is 
 a modern school-plant for Indian youth. 
 
 It must be said for the Yanktons that they imme- 
 diately put a price on the sentimental interest that 
 attached to the quarry. They asked a million dollars 
 flat for the six hundred and forty-eight acres. The 
 figure was an absurd one, but it does not do to laugh 
 at the Indian in bargaining with him. I told them 
 they would have to cut down the price or all negotia- 
 tions might as well be called off at once. Then there 
 [ 301 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 followed a great deal of dickering and much speech- 
 making. At one time I had them practically argued 
 into accepting seventy-five thousand dollars for the 
 tract ; but when I might have closed with them at that 
 price the following day, I was called away to Tuba, 
 Arizona, on important business, and the matter was 
 allowed to stand for several months. When I returned 
 to close the deal with the Yanktons, they had got the 
 price up again and I was glad to close with them for 
 a compensation of one hundred thousand dollars. The 
 agreement was signed October 2, 1899, but it is still 
 unconfirmed. 
 
 The agreement that I made with the Northern 
 Cheyennes in 1898 differed from the ordinary run of 
 treaties, in that it required the buying out and re- 
 moval of settlers and the confirmation of the Indians 
 in their right to the country that had been occupied. 
 In carrying out my instructions, I found it necessary 
 not only to buy out ranchers and individual settlers 
 on a small scale, but actually to buy up the town of 
 Hutton, Montana, which had been located on the 
 reservation lands, through the incorrectness of a map 
 ofthat portion of Custer County. 
 ^■jThe Cheyennes, who, by the way, had always been 
 a fierce and warlike people, occupied a country that 
 teems with Indian story and is watered by streams 
 that have been celebrated as hunting-grounds. The 
 agency at Lame Deer was named for the rover of that 
 name, but it preserves the memory of a great warrior. 
 Chief Lame Deer, who was in the Custer affair, and 
 who was killed by a command under General Miles 
 in the pursuit that followed the scattering of the bands 
 after the battle of the Little Big Horn. The country 
 [ 302 ] 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 is watered by the Tongue River, Rosebud, Lame 
 Deer, and Muddy Creeks, and had been the hunting- 
 ground of the Northern Cheyennes for generations. 
 They had defended it against their neighbors, the 
 Crows, Blackfeet, Piegans, and Bloods. They were to 
 some extent allied to the Sioux, and generally acted 
 with them in the sanguinary affairs that marked their 
 savage life. No Indian was prouder of his race and 
 tribe than the Cheyenne, and they were warriors to 
 be respected. Their advance in the arts of civiliza- 
 tion was handicapped by their warlike attributes, and 
 they were not curbed for many years after the other 
 warlike tribes had accepted the conditions imposed 
 by the white man. An incident that occurred at the 
 Lame Deer agency in 1890 illustrates with much force 
 their adherence to the peculiar code they lived by. 
 
 A young man named Hugh Boyle had been killed 
 by the Cheyennes. The authorities demanded that 
 the Indians give up the murderers to justice. The 
 Indians tried to settle the matter. According to their 
 ideas, the death of Boyle might be compensated by 
 the payment of ponies. They offered to give up a 
 great number of horses, raising each bid as it was 
 rejected, until the payment proposed was calculated 
 to beggar them if it was accepted. To the ponies they 
 added all their wealth in blankets and such other 
 evidences of riches as an Indian may possess. They 
 were finally made to understand that the white man 
 did not accept a property atonement for the spilling of 
 blood. The negotiations were carried on for some 
 time and with difficulty, for the reason that few white 
 men know the Cheyenne language. It is extremely 
 difficult for a white man to master it, — indeed I know 
 [ 303 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 of no white man who has mastered the language. The 
 intercourse with the people was carried on through 
 mixed-bloods of the tribe, and it was finally made 
 clear to them that they must give up the slayers of 
 Boyle. But they could not give them up to die the 
 death that kills the soul as well as the body. They 
 believed, in common with most Indians, that when a 
 man died his soul left the body with his last breath, 
 and that in case a person was hanged, the soul was 
 confined in the body with the rope. They would de- 
 fend their young men from such an awful fate as was 
 involved in the hanging by the white man's justice. 
 The crime they neither denied nor defended. An 
 ultimatum being sent them that they must bring in 
 the murderers, they sent word back that a Cheyenne 
 was not afraid to die, but would not submit to being 
 hanged; that the two young men. Head Chief and 
 Young Mule, would show the whites how a Cheyenne 
 could die. 
 
 They appointed a date for the affair, September 13, 
 1890, and they intended that it should be magnifi- 
 cently spectacular. They were to bend their necks to 
 the white man's justice, but they proposed doing it 
 in a fashion that would impress the soldiers and the 
 people at the agency. Special Indian Agent James A. 
 Cooper had asked for troops, and one troop of the First 
 Cavalry had been sent to the agency to make the ar- 
 rest of the two men by force if necessary. The Chey- 
 ennes gave up diplomacy when the troops arrived, 
 and word was sent that the two Indians would give 
 themselves up and be ready to die. They appointed 
 to die with their weapons in their hands. They 
 would not submit to surrender alive, but they would 
 [ 304 ] 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 ride into the agency and there meet the troops. They 
 would shoot at the soldiers, and the latter would have 
 to kill them in defending themselves. The proposition 
 was rather a startling one, but there was nothing to 
 do but accept it. An attempt to arrest the men in their 
 camps would assuredly have precipitated a bloody 
 conflict. The proposition of the Cheyennes was for a 
 spectacular form of suicide, and the matter was ar- 
 ranged on this basis. The Cheyennes accepted it all 
 as a matter of course. The young men went about 
 their affairs as usual, unmolested, and spent much 
 time in visiting with and saying good-by to their 
 relatives. The night before the date set for the finish, 
 there were solemn dances, in which the Indians all 
 took part. They were to meet death as warriors, and 
 there was no reason why they should be mourned for. 
 
 The morning of the appointed day the two men 
 were anointed by the medicine men. They painted 
 and decorated themselves with great care, and wore 
 all their finery. Their best horses were chosen for the 
 ride to death, and the animals were devoted to the 
 same fate that was to be meted out to their masters ; 
 for it was unlikely that they could escape the hail of 
 bullets that would be sent at the doomed men. Thus, 
 attired and mounted as warriors should be, the two 
 rode down the slope from the northeast to the agency, 
 where the troops were drawn up. 
 
 The agency is located on a flat, with a rather sharp 
 declivity across Lame Deer River. The flat is almost 
 surrounded by elevations, and on the ridge to the west 
 the Indians, probably every one on the reservation, 
 were assembled to see the young men demonstrate 
 to the whites how a Cheyenne could die. Beside the 
 [ 305 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 agency office the troop of cavalry was drawn up; 
 alongside of them stood the agency Indian police, 
 close to their headquarters. The agency people were 
 scattered about, out of what might be the line of fire 
 when the shooting began. Never was a stage so set 
 for so spectacular a tragedy. 
 
 At the time appointed for the coming of the men, 
 they appeared at the top of the hill to the northeast, 
 and dashed down the hill at the best pace their horses 
 could make. As they rode they sang the death-song 
 of their people, and before reaching the level ground 
 they began shooting into the ranks of the soldiery and 
 Indian police. 
 
 The fire was answered at once, the cavalrymen fir- 
 ing rapidly, but ineffectively. The Indian police, or 
 one of them, made better practice, for one of the In- 
 dians went down with his horse in a heap just as he 
 reached a little clump of bushes. The bullets of the 
 police and the soldiers could not find the other man. 
 They fired at almost point-blank range, but his life 
 was charmed. He rode shooting and singing past 
 the cordon of troops and policemen, out beyond the 
 agency, then turned and rode deliberately back. He 
 had passed the troops the second time before the fire 
 of the soldiers and police was effective. His pony was 
 hit and sank, and the man himself was shot and 
 killed at the same time. One of the white party was 
 wounded and one horse killed. 
 
 It was finished, and the Indians closed in and took 
 the bodies away with them to make mourning. No 
 man who witnessed the affair could ever forget that 
 those two Cheyennes had demonstrated that a Chey- 
 enne could die as became a brave man, and the In- 
 [ 306 ] 
 
Copyright, 1907, by Cresset 
 
 TWO MOONS, NORTHERN CHEYENNE CHIEF 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 dians to this day will not approach the place of their 
 death after dark. The spirits of the two warriors 
 haunt the place, according to the Cheyenne belief. 
 
 It was with this people that I had to treat, and 
 incidentally with the numerous whites, in adjusting 
 the Indian claim to the entire reservation. Many of 
 the settlers and ranchers had gone on to the land in 
 good faith, and they had legal claims to their holdings. 
 There was another class of men who had bought out 
 the original settlers, and these had an undoubted 
 equitable right. There was still another class of 
 people, who had gone on to the land knowing that 
 they had no rights, but hoping that something might 
 occur to give them title. These had to be removed. 
 The Indians knew their rights; a people capable of 
 doing what the two men accused of killing Boyle 
 had done, might be expected to stand sturdily by those 
 rights. The big men among them, American Horse, 
 Two Moons, and Little Chief, were men of intelli- 
 gence, and their people a fine manly lot. It took six 
 weeks to adjust the purchase and to complete the ar- 
 rangement for the conveyance back to the government 
 of the property. My engagements called for the pay- 
 ment to the whites of about $151,000. 
 
 March 1, 1898, I concluded an agreement with the 
 Lower Brule Sioux that involved more difficulties and 
 required more finesse in getting the people concerned 
 to a state of mind where they would act than any other 
 work that has fallen to my lot. I was instructed to 
 make an agreement that would permit the removal 
 of four hundred and fifty Indians at the Lower Brule 
 agency, South Dakota, from their reservation and 
 their transfer to the Rosebud Indian reservation in 
 [ 307 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 the same state. This particular lot of Brules had made 
 up their minds that they wanted to move ; but the rest 
 of the people of the Lower Brule reservation had made 
 up their minds quite as fully that they did not want 
 them to move. Their withdrawal would take away such 
 a proportion of the funds belonging to the people in 
 common, as the number of those moving bore to the 
 whole number belonging to the agency. There was a 
 nice condition to adjust there. When that was effected, 
 it was necessary for me to go to the Rosebud Indians, 
 and convince the Indians of that agency that they 
 wanted these Lower Brules to live with them — and 
 at jfirst they most assuredly did not want them. 
 
 It was a delicate piece of work, but it had to be 
 performed; for when an Indian gets it into his head 
 that he wants to move, the best thing for the govern- 
 ment to do is to move him under the least disagreeable 
 circumstances. These four hundred and fifty Indians 
 had quite made up their minds to move, the others of 
 their band had quite made up their minds that they 
 did not want them to move, and the Rosebuds would 
 not have them. 
 
 First, it was necessary to get the Lower Brules to 
 agree to the ceding to the United States of about one 
 hundred and twenty thousand acres of land in their 
 reservation, which would be the portion of the sece- 
 ders, and to agree to the setting over to the seceding 
 crowd of their portion of the permanent fund. It was 
 rather a nice job, and there were all sorts of difficul- 
 ties, but those were finally adjusted. Then I went over 
 to the Rosebuds and asked them to cede to the new 
 comers a sufficiency of land for their maintenance, and 
 they demanded quid pro quo^ which was, of course, 
 [ 308 ] 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 ample. They came around to the proper point of view, 
 Indian fashion, taking the longest way round, and on 
 March 10, 1898, the agreement was signed, the head 
 men coming round and the others following pretty 
 promptly. The transfer was effected. 
 
 Three years later I went to these same Indians with 
 a proposition involving an agreement for the cession 
 of a great body of land that was required for settle- 
 ment by the whites. The land lay in Gregory County, 
 South Dakota, and there were about four hundred 
 and sixteen thousand acres in the tract. The deal 
 was a big one, and there were many big talks. The 
 Indian had come to a proper appreciation of the 
 value of his holdings, and the government had not 
 yet taken the position that there should be no appro- 
 priation for the purchase of the lands needed, that the 
 government would only take over the lands and dis- 
 pose of them to settlers, holding the funds in trust for 
 the Indians, but guaranteeing nothing, except that 
 there would be a fixed price per acre charged to the 
 settlers. The Rosebuds did not like the deal, and 
 it was a case where I had to use personal influence 
 to bring the agreement about. The people of South 
 Dakota were very anxious to open the lands, and the 
 rush to Bonesteel and the surrounding country re- 
 sulting from this cession is still remembered. I talked 
 to the chiefs and head men. I was well known to 
 them, and they had confidence that I would not do 
 anything that was opposed to their interest. But they 
 were not easily moved. I made the agreement finally, 
 securing the signatures to it September 14. The 
 amount of money to be received by the Indians, under 
 the terms of the sale, was $1,040,000. 
 [ 309 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 The picturesque features of treaty-making with the 
 Indians, the council and formal speeches, have not 
 always been obtruded in the latter-day negotiations 
 with them. Since the government very wisely ordained 
 that the Indians should no longer be regarded as 
 an alien people, and the treaties with them should 
 be described as agreements, there have been long 
 strides made in the direction of ultimate assimilation 
 of the red people. I would not have it understood that 
 I believe that the Indian is in any immediate danger 
 of absorption into the general body of the whites of 
 this country; but they have foregone their customs to 
 a great extent, and given evidences of adaptability 
 that they could not have been credited with a genera- 
 tion ago. Indian human nature is pretty much the 
 same as it always was. The Indian at heart is the 
 same as ever. He is simple-minded and direct. He 
 must not be reckoned with as a man who recognizes 
 and understands the canons of the white man. He 
 does not conceive of our standards. A discarded 
 stove-pipe hat is no longer his idea of full dress, and 
 a blanket no longer marks the circumference of his 
 world. He is given much to the forms of law. The 
 Indian is a natural litigant, and it is to be regretted 
 that he is prone to this. He believes implicitly in 
 the capacity of the white man's courts to remedy all 
 wrongs, and is disposed to hire a lawyer whenever he 
 gets a chance. There are bands and communities of 
 Indians in this country who practically maintain the 
 lobbies hired by law firms at Washington, and who 
 often go hungry, when the fees they pay to lawyers 
 would supply them with the material necessities of life. 
 
 There was the case of the claim of the Otoe and 
 [ 310 ] 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 Missouria, tribes that have never made any claims to 
 the attention of the white man, except among those 
 who occupy their hereditary lands. They live in 
 Oklahoma, having many years ago given up lands 
 they held in Nebraska and Kansas. These lands were 
 occupied by white men, and so involved had the 
 rights of the parties become, that it was a matter of 
 the utmost diflSculty properly to adjust them. One 
 thing was very certain, — that the Indians had a valid 
 claim, that they had not been paid for their lands, and 
 that in equity something should be done to give them 
 some compensation for the lands that had been oc- 
 cupied by and tilled by the whites. In 1899 a propo- 
 sition had been made to the Otoe and Missouria, and 
 it had been rejected. The failure of the attempt to 
 make an agreement left the matter in such shape that 
 it was diflScult of approach ; but I was sent to talk to 
 the people. A proposition was prepared for submis- 
 sion, which I was convinced would not be acceptable 
 to the Indians, — which proposition had been framed 
 by an attorney of Cheyenne, Wyoming ; and upon my 
 submitting it to the people it was rejected, and the 
 interested parties who had accompanied me left in 
 disgust, regarding the matter hopeless. 
 
 I thought I knew the Indian attitude of mind well 
 enough to feel assured that, if the people were talked 
 to, they might be brought to see the advantage of ac- 
 cepting a modified proposition, rather than to let it 
 drag along for many years more. In Gage County, Ne- 
 braska, and Marshall County, Kansas, where the lands 
 were located, the settlement had become a political 
 issue. Congressmen had been elected and candidates 
 defeated on it. Some of the people who had bought the 
 [311] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 lands had been induced to bid far beyond their actual 
 value, with the understanding that only a jSxed maxi- 
 mum would be accepted in payment. The titles were 
 not clear, and the situation was much involved. 
 
 After the original proposition had been rejected, I 
 prepared and submitted a modified proposition, and 
 in five days I had made the agreement and the matter 
 was settled. It was merely a matter of being familiar 
 with the Indian character. The people, red and white, 
 were saved from endless litigation, a vexed question was 
 settled, which could never have been so satisfactorily 
 adjusted in the courts, and both whites and Indians 
 got their rights. 
 
 It is an odd condition that the Pacific States Indi- 
 ans, who were by no means the equals of the plains 
 Indians physically or mentally in their native state, 
 have progressed beyond their better-developed breth- 
 ren in the civilized arts. The ethnologists have dis- 
 covered a great many remarkable things about the 
 Coast Indians, and many of these things would as- 
 tonish the Indians themselves. The probabilities are 
 that they were wandering divisions, who in the pro- 
 cesses of natural law were forced to the west because 
 they could not survive among their more vigorous and 
 warlike brethren. It is a far cry from the Mission In- 
 dians of the southwest coast to the Chilcat family on 
 the north; and, while the former were subjected to 
 the civilizing influences of the early missionaries, the 
 more northern tribes were exposed to the demoraliza- 
 tion that must have followed contact with the sail- 
 ors and early explorers. Having inhabited generally 
 a country in which the physical conditions interfered 
 with easy intercourse, these people became isolated 
 [ 312 ] 
 
MODERN TREATY-MAKING 
 
 to that point which made great differences in lan- 
 guage. Then, also, they were of different original 
 stocks and carried the parent languages with them. 
 Thus it was that, in closely contiguous communities, 
 the various Indian tribes of the coast had little or no 
 communication with each other. The policy of the 
 government which led to their assemblage in con- 
 siderable numbers on a reservation, paid no heed to 
 tribal affiliations; and in most instances people of 
 varied languages and customs were placed on the 
 same reservation. They were not strong in tribal num- 
 bers, and they gained nothing in the way of conces- 
 sions for lands, having no ownership rights. Placed 
 on the same reservation, and compelled to provide 
 their own subsistence, — being wards of the govern- 
 ment without available appropriations, — they had 
 to adopt a common language, and they took to Eng- 
 lish readily enough. Having no hope or expectancy 
 of assistance from the government, they worked out 
 their own material salvation, perforce. As a conse- 
 quence, they are farther advanced than the Indians 
 of whom much more might have been expected. 
 Many of them, though only a couple of generations 
 removed from a people living on roots and fish, to 
 whom even reptiles were not unfamiliar articles of 
 diet, have acquired all the better habits of the whites, 
 and their social condition is not infrequently rather 
 better than that of the people among whom they live 
 and who boast European blood. 
 
 I made an agreement with the Port Madison Indi- 
 ans, Washington, composed of remnants of tribes, in 
 which all the negotiations were conducted in English. 
 In the Round Valley reservation, California, I found 
 [ 313 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 Indians of heterogeneous tribes, who spoke English 
 wholly, and who were Diggers of abject condition two 
 generations ago. 
 
 The independence of the Indian in his tribal state 
 was exemplified in a manner that I have referred to 
 before, in the custom of the head man and speaker 
 representing his people against his own views. I had 
 an agreement to make with the Red Lake Chippewas. 
 It involved the cession of lands that might be worth 
 a, million dollars. Moose Dung was the hereditary 
 tribal chief. He was rather a smart fellow, and his 
 father had been a great warrior, so eminent that a 
 title had been given him for the section of land on 
 which the city of Thief River Falls, Minnesota, is now 
 located. He sold the section for eight thousand dollars 
 and showed the whites of Minnesota how an Indian 
 could spend money for a while, and eventually some 
 of the other heirs, who had not been consulted in the 
 expenditure of the money, had to be settled with. In 
 the council with the Chippewas, Moose Dung, who 
 was in favor of the cession, was compelled by the in- 
 structions of the Indian council to make an argument 
 that was entirely opposed to his views — which did 
 not prevent him, however, from going out personally 
 and influencing the Indians to accept the proposition 
 submitted. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 Events leading up to the Ferocious Fighting in the Lava-Beds called 
 the Modoc War — The Crimes of Hooker Jim and Curly-Headed 
 Doctor — The Surrender and Death of Jack. 
 
 I KNOW of no better evidence of the capacity of the 
 Indian to adapt himself to new conditions — when 
 he finds those conditions immutable — than was 
 called to my attention in a trip to the Klamath-Modoc 
 country in southern Oregon a few years ago, when I 
 was told that within six years of the frightful affair 
 of the Lava-Beds, one of Captain Jack's men, a fierce 
 and bloody man who was prominent in the assassi- 
 nation of the commissioners at the council that led 
 to the finish of the Modocs as a fighting band, — that 
 this man, "Steamboat Frank," had been ordained to 
 the Christian ministry and put in charge of a church 
 on the Quapaw reservation. 
 
 And I know of no more fitting place for such bat- 
 tle as was given the whites by Captain Jack and his 
 handful of people, than the Lava-Beds. The idea that 
 a white man might subsist in the Lava-Beds is hardly 
 conceivable, but that the Indians lived and fought 
 therein against desperate odds is easily conceivable 
 to one who knows what the Indian can endure when 
 he is compelled to it. A couple of score of white men 
 fighting several hundred Indians, furnished with the 
 modern machinery of warfare, would not last the day 
 through. Yet for many days Captain Jack and his 
 [315] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 Modocs lived in the Lava-Beds, sustaining life by 
 eating reptiles when they could not capture any of 
 the provender of the enemy; lived and fought with 
 almost no loss, and inflicting terrible injuries on the 
 soldiers who were sent against them. The battle 
 might have been a classic except that it was not war- 
 fare, but the desperate defense of a handful of raga- 
 muflSn Indians who had been despised for years, — 
 it opened with a massacre and ended with the scaf- 
 fold. 
 
 The story of the Modoc war I had from many 
 sources, and told in more than one tongue, — from 
 army officers who participated in it, who could not go 
 back and dwell on the horror of that campaign with- 
 out confessing that language failed them when their 
 thoughts went back to the awful days and nights of 
 the summer of 1873; from Indians who told of it in 
 fragments — as something that was not safe to talk 
 of, for the fear of the white man's vengeance still 
 abode with them; from men of the Indian service 
 who were of the party of whites and had to do with the 
 affair; from Mrs. Toby Riddle, the Indian woman 
 who had accompanied the commissioners when they 
 were shot down by the fiends who, headed by Captain 
 Jack, did what an Indian has seldom done in break- 
 ing a pledge given for the safe passport to a peace 
 council. 
 
 At the time of my visit Mrs. Riddle was still living 
 near the scene of the affair, an Indian woman full of 
 years but not infirm, whose heroic action in bringing 
 out word of the attack by the Modocs on the peace 
 commissioners was recognized by the government, 
 and who is perhaps the only woman drawing a pen- 
 [316] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 sion of twenty-five dollars a month as a reward for 
 her own daring and desperate deed. 
 
 Men who had to do with the stirring events of the 
 Modoc war, whose families were then on the ground, 
 as they are still, gave me the story and verification of 
 disputed points. The Applegates were prominent peo- 
 ple of the Klamath and Modoc country in the days 
 of the war, as they are now. Major O. C. Applegate 
 was agent for the Klamaths and Modocs when I 
 visited the Klamath agency, in 1900 and again in 1901. 
 When the Modoc trouble broke out. Major Applegate 
 was in charge of the Yainax sub-agency. Yainax is 
 forty miles east of Klamath agency, in Oregon. His 
 brother, Jesse Applegate, was a captain of militia, and 
 both had active part in the campaign. To both of 
 these gentlemen I am much indebted for information 
 and verification of the narrative here given. 
 
 Rev. Jesse Kirk, an educated full-blood Klamath 
 Indian and ordained Methodist minister, was my 
 guide and interpreter during a tour of three weeks 
 over the Klamath and Modoc reservation in 1900. 
 He was thoroughly familiar with the Modoc outbreak 
 and the campaign that followed it, and he related 
 with the assurance of an eye-witness things that have 
 become involved in historical doubt. Of course there 
 were many other sources of information, but the men 
 mentioned spoke by the card and with intelligent 
 discernment. 
 
 I did not appreciate the horror of that brief and 
 bloody war in the Lava-Beds until I saw the country 
 in October, 1900, when I was commissioned to go out 
 there and make an agreement with the Klamaths and 
 Modocs. In 1873, when the country was ringing with 
 [317] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 the news of the assassination of General Canby and 
 Dr. Thomas, and the stories of the furious fighting 
 that followed, I was on the Devils Lake reservation. 
 We had some troubles of our own, for the Indians 
 were restless — they were hearing of the doings of 
 their cousins across the Missouri — and, incidentally, 
 we were being continually bothered by the raids of 
 horse-thieves from Turtle Mountain and the west. 
 But even in that country, remote as it was from the 
 scene of the trouble, little else w^as talked about at the 
 agency at the time, for the desperate character sud- 
 denly assumed by the Modocs was calculated to im- 
 press white men who had to do with keeping red men 
 pastured along the borderland of civilization. The 
 sudden ferocity of Captain Jack and his people con- 
 tained a menace we could not help feeling; and when, 
 many years later, I was brought into contact with the 
 survivors of Captain Jack's band, it was not easy to 
 conceive that these spiritless people could have held 
 the country awed a generation ago, when their out- 
 landish names were on every tongue. They were 
 an amiable enough lot when I first saw them, but 
 the shining lights of their band — Captain Jack, 
 Scarfaced Charlie, Schonchin John, Bogus Charlie, 
 Shacknasty Jim — had all gone the way of the In- 
 dian, good or bad, some of them by the rope-route, 
 others in beds of the white man's providing, but very 
 few by the bullets of the soldiers they fought in the 
 Lava-Beds. 
 
 It has often occurred to me that, in the term of my 
 service in the Indian department, the red man has run 
 the gamut between the limit of savagery and his pos- 
 sibilities in the line of civilization. The fact is exem- 
 [318] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 plified in the transition of the Modoc of the Lava-Beds 
 to the Modoc preacher of to-day. 
 
 The infernal gods, in horrid sport, might have made 
 the Lava-Beds in a humor of frightful cynicism — to 
 show how awful a thing the face of the earth might be 
 made. The man of science would describe the Lava- 
 Beds as a pedregal, — a Spanish word, I fancy, though 
 adapted locally to the vernacular. It means a stony 
 place, and the Spaniard who applied it first must have 
 been woefully lacking in a knowledge of his vocabu- 
 lary, for he totally failed to do the subject justice. 
 The pedregal which was given a bloody fame as the 
 Lava-Beds is forty or fifty square miles in area. The 
 scriptural "abomination of desolation" fits it exactly. 
 The surface of the Lava-Beds suggests the idea that a 
 sea of molten lava and rocks had been hurled from on 
 high, and that the earth, rebelling against the deluge, 
 had opened its bosom in violent attempts to heave off 
 the molten mass. In the contest the lava and rocks 
 cooled, leaving great stones thrust out in impossible 
 shapes from the volcanic ash; what might have been 
 the surface, cleft in every direction by strange and 
 awful chasms, would serve as the hiding-places for 
 fearsome reptiles of an elder period. These chasms 
 are described as caves, in the language of the coun- 
 try and by the Indians ; but caves they assuredly are 
 not, though many of them are almost entirely subterra- 
 nean. In the Lava-Beds no green things grow, no 
 spring moistens the chasms, there is no life nor sign of 
 life, and civilized man halts at the boundary of the 
 horrible place. For thousands of years the Lava- 
 Beds served no conceivable purpose in nature, for 
 even the beast of prey declined the pedregal for a 
 [319] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 hiding-place. Then, one day, it became a practically 
 impregnable fortress, ready made to the hand of a 
 band of desperate men who found themselves in arms 
 against a great nation. 
 
 Fighting in this awful place, using its chasms for 
 hiding-places and its rocky fastnesses for entrench- 
 ments, the Modocs killed eight oflScers, fifty-five sol- 
 diers and civilians, and two friendly Indians, and 
 wounded sixty-nine whites, losing five warriors them- 
 selves during the tragic affairs of 1872 and 1873. 
 
 Like most of the tragedies of the Indian country, 
 the Modoc war was chargeable to the bad faith of the 
 white man and the dilatoriness of the government in 
 making and executing a treaty. And it cannot even be 
 said that the Indians were the aggressors in the shed- 
 ding of blood, for it is certain that the first attack was 
 made on the Modocs; that they were surprised and 
 some of them killed, and that their first attack on the 
 settlers was in the nature of a reprisal. 
 
 The Modocs were never a numerous tribe. When 
 the whites first knew them they might have numbered 
 four or five hundred — there are three or four hundred 
 of them now. They were warlike enough and carried 
 on a desultory warfare with the neighboring tribe, the 
 Klamaths. Occasionally they fought the whites, and 
 many of them died by smallpox in the later forties, and 
 a number were killed by whites in the early fifties. 
 They were industrious enough, but were not farmers. 
 They made a sort of flour from the seeds of an aquatic 
 plant, and hunted and fished. Their nomadic habits 
 led the settlers to regard them as a nuisance, — a dis- 
 tinction they enjoyed in common with the Klamaths 
 and the Yahoo Snakes, or Ya-hoos-kin ; and this fact, 
 [ 320 ] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 that they were classed with the other Indians, had 
 much to do with the disaster of 1873. They were of 
 fighting stock, and their warring with the Klamaths 
 had extended over many years ; and, though they had 
 held their own on the field, the Klamaths had gone 
 further along the road of the white man, and had 
 rather the best of the bargain when it was a matter of 
 dealing with the Modocs. These latter ranged over 
 a restricted country on the Oregon-California border, 
 though they never got very far away from Lake Tule 
 or Lost River. In spite of their industry, on occasion 
 they were used to a life of vagabondage, and the ease 
 with which they secured fish in the lake and river 
 made them anxious to keep their country. 
 
 But the whites were settling in numbers, and it be- 
 came necessary to restrict the Indians to certain limits ; 
 so in 1864 a treaty was made with the Klamaths, Mo- 
 docs, and Yahoos, to take a reservation on common 
 ground in Lake County, Oregon. Schonchin, at that 
 time the chief of the Modocs, — though his title was 
 challenged by Captain Jack, — was satisfied with the 
 treaty and certainly had the following to control the 
 tribe when the treaty was made. But it was not con- 
 firmed for years, — some time in 1870 it was pro- 
 claimed. In the meantime the mischief had been 
 done. 
 
 It was alleged that they fell out over a division of the 
 spoils — though it does not appear that there were 
 any spoils to divide until 1867, when some annuity 
 goods were issued to the Indians. Captain Jack de- 
 clared that the Klamaths, under Captain George, had 
 gotten the lion's share of the distribution. Schonchin 
 appears to have been inclined to accept w^hat was given 
 [321] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 him, and he was the recognized chief, while Jack only 
 assumed leadership; but in high dudgeon the latter 
 proclaimed himself a better man by rank and lineage 
 than Schonchin and invited the band to follow him off 
 the reservation. A very considerable number did so, 
 and they roamed about the country, carrying on many 
 petty depredations but doing no serious injury. But 
 they were in defiance of authority, and the Modocs 
 who remaitied on the reservation were continually at 
 strife with the Klamaths. The Indian bureau estab- 
 lished the Yainax agency, on the Sprague River in 
 another part of the reservation, for the Modocs, and 
 induced Captain Jack to join Schonchin there. They 
 had more trouble with the Klamaths, and were again 
 moved ; again Jack left the reservation, and this time 
 he had the better of Schonchin, for he took a majority 
 of the people with him. 
 
 He lived with his band on Lost River and Lake 
 Tule. He offered to accept a small reservation on the 
 river, some two thousand acres ; but the Indian bureau 
 could not afford to be dictated to, and Jack was again 
 wheedled into returning to Yainax. There the trouble 
 with the Klamaths culminated, and the step was taken 
 that made Jack and his people outlaws and brought 
 on the war. 
 
 There is no doubt that the people had been in great 
 distress. The constant moving about had made it 
 difficult for them to get any returns from the crops 
 they put in ; the hunting and fishing did not support 
 them, and the government annuity was not often 
 forthcoming. Some of the Modocs died of disease or 
 distress. From the death of one of these men arose 
 the event that made Jack a wanderer. 
 [ 322 ] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 The name of the sick man, like that of many an- 
 other individual who had to do with the making of 
 history, is lost to the memory of even Toby Riddle, 
 who remembers most things in Modoc history. The 
 brave stood well with Captain Jack, and when he fell 
 ill, a Klamath medicine man was called in to attend 
 him. Jack appears to have had a personal medicine 
 man, Curly-Headed Doctor, but the latter was much 
 more inclined to vagabondage than to the practice 
 of his queer arts, and he had constituted himself the 
 chief of a little band of eight or ten as fine scoundrels 
 as had hitherto been gotten together in that country, 
 and was engaged in stealing horses and cattle and 
 whatever else would walk or was portable. So Jack 
 was compelled to resort to Klamath medicine for his 
 follower. The Klamath doctor performed spells and 
 shook his rattle over the sick Modoc to no purpose, 
 for he died. 
 
 I have referred elsewhere to the fact that it was cus- 
 tomary among the coast tribes to kill a medicine man 
 who professed to be able to cure, and then lost, a pa- 
 tient. From time immemorial it has been a recognized 
 custom among the tribes west of the Rockies, audit 
 has been practiced occasionally among other tribes, 
 when a chief found a medicine man who was becoming 
 too popular, to have him quietly removed. There is 
 no manner of doubt that the custom has been indulged 
 among the far-north Indians, the Chilcats and others 
 allied to the Esquimaux, in very recent times. It car- 
 ried with it no more suggestion of crime, under the 
 tribal custom, than that other frightful practice of 
 barbarism which permits the killing of the old people 
 who become burdens on families in a country that 
 [ 323 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 yields no surplus of provisions even for those who can 
 struggle for a living. 
 
 The medicine man who was called in the case of 
 Captain Jack's warrior, made an implied contract to 
 cure the man or forfeit his own life. In taking the job 
 the medicine man practically announced that his medi- 
 cine was superior to that of the evil genius who had 
 laid hold of the sick man ; hence, if he did not effect a 
 cure, it was because he chose to let the man die, as he 
 could not afford to admit that his medicine was not 
 all-powerful. 
 
 The sick man died, and under the circumstances 
 Captain Jack could not, according to his lights, do 
 other than cut the throat of the medicine man, — 
 which he did, or was charged with doing. It is not 
 worth while inquiring into his guilt or innocence, but 
 he was probably guilty as charged. And the crime 
 might have gone unpunished if Jack's victim had been 
 a Modoc. But he was a Klamath, and the Klamaths 
 immediately set up a clamor, demanding that Jack be 
 arrested and tried by the civil authorities for the kill- 
 ing. 
 
 At that time civil law was not often invoked in pun- 
 ishment of Indian offenses committed against Indians. 
 But Jack was evidently afraid either that the authori- 
 ties would act in the matter, or that the Klamaths 
 would revenge the offense in their own way. In any 
 event he moved off the reservation, and that his people 
 were in sympathy with him was shown by the fact that 
 two thirds of them moved with him. Schonchin's 
 authority was finally broken then. 
 
 It does not appear that the conduct of the Modocs 
 under Jack was particularly reprehensible at first. 
 [ 324 ] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 There were some other small bands, independent of 
 Jack, as that of Curly-Headed Doctor, that made 
 much more trouble. It is even apparent that Jack 
 and his people lived on fairly good terms with the 
 whites. They roamed into California, and, according 
 to the newspapers of that day, they tried to save the 
 town of Yreka, California, when it was destroyed by 
 fire, July 4, 1871. They continued to make their head- 
 quarters on Lost River, and the military authorities, 
 as well as the Indian authorities, were inclined to 
 favor giving them the reservation they desired. 
 
 On the pacific attitude and the friendly disposition 
 of the whites toward Captain Jack's Modocs, official 
 records, made so late as the early spring of 1872, may 
 be quoted. General E. R. S. Canby, then commander 
 of the Department of the Columbia, and a man who 
 knew the Indian very well, and was fated to lay down 
 his life in trying to serve the Modocs, said : — 
 
 "I am not surprised at the unwillingness of the Mo- 
 docs to return to any point on the reservation where 
 they would be exposed to the hostilities and annoy- 
 ances they have heretofore experienced from the Kla- 
 maths; but they have expressed a desire to be estab- 
 lished on Lost River, where they would be free from 
 this trouble, and the superintendent (Meacham) in- 
 formed me last summer that he would endeavor to 
 secure such a location for them." 
 
 This statement from General Canby indicates the 
 justice of the cause of the Modocs, but it did not help 
 them to secure the location they asked. Then they were 
 not dealt with fairly and firmly, as an Indian must 
 be under any and all circumstances. Superintendent 
 Meacham was retired in favor of another man, who 
 [ 325 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 appointed two anti-Indian men to hold a council with 
 the Modocs. The Modocs got a bad character from 
 the report made, and the Indian bureau issued an 
 order that the Modocs should be forced to return to 
 their reservation and the leaders arrested. This order 
 was evidently opposed to the expressed attitude of 
 General Canby, who evidently felt that an injustice 
 was being done the people. 
 
 It does not appear that anybody was to benefit ma- 
 terially by turning the Modocs out of the Lost River 
 country; and if they had been given the reservation 
 they asked for, not more than ten thousand dollars 
 worth of land would have to be set apart for them — 
 and upon this there were but few claimants to be ne- 
 gotiated with. This solution of the trouble would have 
 been in accord with General Canby's views, and the 
 war would have been thus averted; and these facts 
 may be stated now that the healing influence of time 
 has been felt and the crimes of the Modocs no longer 
 cry for the blood-atonement. However, the order was 
 given for the return of the Modocs to the reservation ; 
 troops were sent into the country to enforce the order, 
 and it needed but that an overt act should be com- 
 mitted to begin the brief and bloody Modoc war. 
 
 On the night of November 28, 1872, Captain Jack 
 and his band camped on the south side of Lost River ; 
 Curly-Headed Doctor with ten warriors, with their 
 women and children, had a camp on the opposite 
 bank, all in Oregon. The commanders of the troops 
 were afraid that the Indians were getting ready for 
 mischief, and early in the morning of the 29th Captain 
 Jackson, with forty men, surprised Captain Jack's 
 camp and demanded the surrender of the Indians. 
 [ 326 ] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 A fight ensued, in which one white man was killed and 
 seven injured. On the other side of the river a small 
 detachment struck the camp of Curly-Headed Doctor 
 at the same time. Of the attacking party one was 
 killed, another mortally wounded, and Curly-Headed 
 Doctor and his party made off on the war-path. 
 Within two days twelve white settlers were killed by 
 these marauders, it being certain that none of the mur- 
 ders were committed by Captain Jack's party, which 
 was making south for the Lava-Beds. 
 
 Instantly there was a reversal of opinion concerning 
 the capacity of the Modocs for mischief. The people 
 of Oregon were up in arms and volunteers were plenty. 
 While preparations for a demonstration in force were 
 being made, Curly-Headed Doctor and a particularly 
 ferocious scoundrel who was supporting him, and who 
 attained to an evil fame under the name of Hooker 
 (Hooka) Jim, together with eight or ten others, after- 
 wards distinguished by both the whites and Indians 
 as "the murderers," started after the surprise and 
 killed six more white men; but it was not until the 
 middle of the following January that the assault was 
 made on the Lava-Beds. 
 
 Captain Jack appears to have been in charge of the 
 Indians who had taken to the Lava-Beds, though he 
 afterwards claimed that he acted wholly on the de- 
 fensive, and that Schonchin had some part in the 
 government. Neither Jack nor Schonchin had any 
 sympathy with Curly-Headed Doctor and Hooker 
 Jim, whose followers committed many atrocities, but 
 the Doctor and his party joined Captain Jack in the 
 Lava-Beds, and he permitted them to remain with his 
 people. Had Captain Jack driven Curly-Headed Doc- 
 [327 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 tor and Hooker Jim out of his camp, affairs with him 
 might have been different, for it was made apparent 
 later that he did not want to fight the white soldiers. 
 He said that he was led to believe that, should he and 
 his people surrender after having taken to the Lava- 
 Beds, they would be hanged without regard to their 
 guilt or innocence. That this was not an idle defense 
 was shown later in the statement made by the judge 
 advocate of the military commission which tried and 
 condemned Jack and his fellows, who said he was con- 
 vinced that Jack had nothing to do with the murder 
 of the settlers. 
 
 When the troops were ready to attack, about the 
 middle of January, Captain Jack, with between fifty 
 and sixty warriors and about one hundred and seventy 
 women and children, was entrenched in the most tre- 
 mendous natural fortification in the world — a place 
 teeming with dangers quite incomprehensible to white 
 men and incapable of sustaining life in any but sav- 
 ages. Jack and his Modocs knew the ground, while 
 the troops had no conception of what the place was, 
 and even the Indian scouts acting with the troops were 
 apparently ignorant of its diflSculties for assault. 
 
 The Modocs had no considerable quantity of pro- 
 visions with them. They had killed a few cattle, but 
 had driven none into the Lava-Beds with them. What 
 food they had, they carried in the form of meat hastily 
 killed; and that could not last beyond a few days. 
 They had means of reaching the waterways and pro- 
 curing fish, and they lived on such vermin as they 
 could find for the rest. But they did have a competent 
 military leader, who had an idea that, if they could 
 win one battle with the whites, terms might be made. 
 [ 328 1 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 They knew the point at which the attack must be made, 
 and Jack disposed of his men — all armed with muzzle- 
 loading guns and revolvers, in such fashion as to com- 
 mand completely the point. 
 
 It is not clear that the Indian scouts with the whites 
 knew where the Modocs were, for they led the troops 
 in at the nearest point to the soldiers' base; and that, 
 perhaps, was as sensible a move as any they could 
 have made, not knowing anything of the ground. Of 
 the four hundred men in the attacking party, two hun- 
 dred and twenty-five were regulars with a couple of 
 howitzers, twenty were Indian scouts, and the rest 
 were volunteer militiamen. The advance on the Modoc 
 position was made on the morning of January 17, 
 1873, the attacking party being divided into columns 
 with instructions to form a junction after the enemy 
 had been located. The impossibility of carrying out 
 this order would have been apparent to anybody know- 
 ing the nature of the ground in the Lava-Beds, the 
 fearful chasms running in every direction, as effectually 
 blocking the union of the divided bodies as though 
 they were miles apart instead of a few yards, as was 
 generally the case. Once the troops had penetrated 
 into the Lava-Beds all plans were useless; the only 
 thing to do was to advance in whatever direction was 
 possible, and it was soon found that, in whatever di- 
 rection the advance was made, there were the Modocs. 
 
 Not that they could be seen. The only evidence that 
 the whites had of their presence was the constant and 
 deadly fire that was poured all day from behind im- 
 possible rocks, through crevices in what appeared to 
 be solid walls of lava, and from out of fissures in the 
 ground. But no Modoc showed his head during the 
 [ 329 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 day long enough for a soldier to get a shot at him. The 
 advance was made on hands and knees, generally. 
 There was none of the glory of war about the fighting. 
 Walking being generally impossible in this place of 
 horror, it was simply a case of crawling forward in the 
 direction from which the least firing came ; and the 
 Modocs picked off the men when they would. No more 
 heroic struggle to come up with and strike an enemy 
 was ever attempted than was made by the command 
 who went that first day into the Lava-Beds, and never 
 was one more useless; for, when at night the troops 
 were gotten out of the place of death, retreating and 
 carrying their wounded with infinite pain and labor, 
 they had made no more impression on the enemy 
 than if they had shelled Mount Shasta. Twenty-eight 
 wounded were brought out, and ten dead they had to 
 leave to the Modocs. 
 
 The commanding officer of the troops appreciated 
 the fearful difficulty of the task before him, and be- 
 lieved that it would take a much larger force than he 
 had to dislodge the Modocs; so he asked for three 
 hundred more men and four guns. 
 
 That was in the days of the "peace policy" pro- 
 claimed by President Grant; and now that much 
 harm had been done and the state of public feeling 
 in Oregon precluded any other sort of peace than 
 would be procured by the hanging of the Indians, it 
 was proposed that negotiations be opened with them. 
 At first a commission of local men was appointed. 
 Among its members were two of the Applegates, Jesse, 
 a pioneer of the forties, and Oliver C. Applegate, the 
 latter then in charge at Yainax and well acquainted 
 with the Indians; A. B. Meacham, who had been 
 [ 330 ] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 agent and superintendent, was also a member. These 
 men knew the Modocs so well that they declined to 
 meet them in council, where they would be in the 
 power of the Indians. The Modocs, split by internal 
 differences, would not meet the commissioners except 
 on their own grounds. 
 
 Another commission was then named, which in- 
 cluded some very good friends of the Indians : Judge 
 Roseborough of Yreka, Rev. Doctor Thomas, and 
 L. S. Dyer, the latter then agent for the Klamath 
 Indians. The commission got in touch with the Mo- 
 docs, and some messages were exchanged, but nothing 
 came of it. The Indians came to understand that the 
 first thing required of them was the surrender to the 
 justice of the white man of the eight or nine men in 
 the band of Curly- Headed Doctor, known as the mur- 
 derers. These men had committed brutal murders, 
 and they preferred the comparative security of the 
 Lava-Beds to the certainty of hanging at the hands of 
 the whites. 
 
 Captain Jack was evidently in favor of a compro- 
 mise, but he had not the power to control his people 
 to the extent of surrendering the Doctor and Hooker 
 Jim. He sent his sister, known as Princess Mary, in 
 with a statement of his position. He could not sur- 
 render his men to certain death by hanging; if the 
 whites wanted his horses to hang, he would give them 
 up, but he could not give up men to die a death that 
 would kill the soul as well as the body, — the Indians 
 holding that death by strangulation would prevent the 
 soul from escaping, and it would die with the body. 
 Captain Jack's plea was not very specious, even from 
 the Indian point of view. It simply made clear the 
 [331 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 fact that he was not in a position to make peace, for 
 his people did not believe that peace would be possi- 
 sible for them while the killing of the settlers and the 
 soldiers was unavenged ; but he sent word that if the 
 soldiers were sent away he would come in and take a 
 reservation on Lost River. This proposition was so 
 absurd that it was not heeded. 
 
 At this time it was certain that Captain Jack's 
 chieftaincy was in jeopardy. He knew that he must lose 
 in the end, and he did not see that he had enough at 
 stake to go on with a hopeless war. It was shown at 
 his trial that he wanted to resign his command, and 
 that the rest of the Modocs, especially those whose 
 necks were in most imminent danger, insisted upon 
 retaining him in the leadership. His sister, Princess 
 Mary, said afterwards that she expected Curly- Headed 
 Doctor, Hooker Jim, Schonchin, Bogus Charley, and 
 some of the others planned to kill him, but were afraid 
 of the majority. But Jack would not fight, and he 
 would not talk. He sat down and bemoaned his fate. 
 When he proposed to the whites to stop the war and 
 take the Lava-Beds for a reserv^ation — a last des- 
 perate resort — and his proposition was rejected, he 
 said he would do no more. And he persisted in this 
 determination until his followers reviled him and 
 called him a squaw. This remark, together with the 
 attitude of his people at the time, aroused him to 
 such an extent that he immediately announced that he 
 would lead them to the finish, and that they should 
 have no further ground for complaint. 
 
 Toby Riddle saw him about this time. She had 
 guided her husband, the interpreter, and a delegate 
 from the commission, to the Modoc stronghold for 
 [ 332 ] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 a conference. The delegate, Judge Steele, would have 
 been killed but for the interference of Captain Jack, 
 who guarded him personally. Toby says that, when 
 she left the camp, a friendly Modoc told her not to 
 come back again, nor to send any white man, else he 
 would not return alive; and an evident plot on the 
 part of the Modocs was discovered when the commis- 
 sioners were invited to a council and armed Indians 
 were seen in the vicinity. 
 
 The personnel of the commission had been changed 
 again, and when a proposition was brought in by Bo- 
 gus Charley for a meeting of six unarmed Indians 
 with as many whites, General Canby, who appreciated 
 the danger of the undertaking, thought it his duty to 
 attempt to make a peace and agreed to the proposi- 
 tion; but Mr. Meacham, L. S. Dyer, Interpreter 
 Riddle, and his wife Toby all said that it was going 
 to certain death. Dr. Thomas said that it was a duty 
 they owed to themselves, to the Indians, and to the 
 people, and he would go. Meacham and Dyer agreed 
 to go, and Riddle said he would go as a matter of 
 duty, but he protested against the foolhardiness of it. 
 
 The meeting was arranged for April 11, and it was 
 to take place at what the Indians called the council 
 tent, a natural sheltered place in the rocks. Bogus 
 Charley accompanied the party, having remained in 
 the camp of the whites the previous night, and they 
 were met by Boston Charley and led to the Modoc 
 council tent. General Canby, Dr. Thomas, and Riddle 
 walked; Meacham, Dyer, and Toby Riddle were 
 mounted. They were met at the council tent by Cap- 
 tain Jack, Schonchin, Ellen's Man, Shacknasty Jim, 
 Hooker Jim, and Black Jim. 
 [ 333 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 The council was very brief, and the whites feared 
 treachery from the first ; for they observed that all the 
 Modocs were armed with revolvers, while they were 
 unarmed. Jack made a speech, but while he was still 
 talking Hooker Jim tried to start trouble by taking 
 Meacham's overcoat from his saddle. Jack made 
 some absurd demands and Meacham said, "Jack, 
 you are a sensible man, talk like one." Schonchin told 
 Meacham to talk straight, and demanded that the 
 Modocs be given a reservation on Cottonwood Creek 
 or Hot Creek, and that the soldiers be taken away. 
 Schonchin was very much excited and Jack was stand- 
 ing up. At the instant two Indians appeared from be- 
 hind the rocks and ran in with some guns. They were 
 identified as One-Eyed Jim and Slolox. Steamboat 
 Frank, whose destiny led him into the pulpit some 
 years later, ran up at the same time. Then Captain 
 Jack, who was standing up in front of General 
 Canby, said, '*A11 ready!" and drawing his revolver, 
 snapped it in the general's face. It missed fire, and he 
 instantly pulled the trigger again, shooting the veteran 
 soldier under the eye. 
 
 It was shown at the trial of these Indians that each 
 one had his appointed victim, and all acted as Jack 
 did. Bogus Charley, who had led the commissioners 
 into the trap, shot Dr. Thomas in the left breast, 
 wounding him badly; Schonchin fired at Meacham 
 but missed, and Meacham drew a small derringer and 
 fired, then ran, but was shot in the head and fell ap- 
 parently dead. Dyer ran at the first sign of treachery. 
 He was pursued by Hooker Jim, but he drove the 
 murderer off and escaped. Shacknasty Jim and One- 
 Eyed Jim attacked Riddle, but he got away, being 
 [ 334 ] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 hit once, the bullet cutting off a piece of his ear. 
 Slolox struck Toby Riddle with his rifle and was about 
 to kill her, when Jack interfered and let her go. Gen- 
 eral Canby, who had not been killed by Captain Jack's 
 shot, also ran, but was brought down by a rifle-shot, 
 and Jack then stabbed him in the neck, killing him. 
 
 Toby Riddle, who was riding off, stopped and saved 
 Meacham. He was lying apparently dead, and Boston 
 Charley started to scalp him. The woman screamed, 
 "The soldiers are coming!" and the other Indians, 
 who were already afraid of the consequences of their 
 dreadful deed, ran away, Boston Charley with the 
 rest. Meacham was wounded four times, but lived, 
 though he was so near dead that the Modocs, think- 
 ing him dead, had stripped him before Boston Charley 
 had begun to scalp him. He ever after bore a long scar 
 on his hand, made by the scalping-knife that was 
 stopped by Toby Riddle. 
 
 I do not believe that the Modocs at that time thought 
 there was any way of escaping the gallows, or death at 
 the hands of the soldiers. Their attack on the envoys 
 of an enemy was against all the traditions of their 
 people. A safe-conduct given by a chief had always 
 been held as sacred by the fighting races, even under 
 the most exasperating circumstances — and the whites 
 had not always been so scrupulous in carrying out 
 like pledges. But there was not the slightest doubt 
 that the assassination had been deliberately planned 
 and as deliberately carried out. That it was not more 
 effective — that the whole party of white people was 
 not killed — was obviously not due to a lack of good- 
 will on the part of the Modocs to carry out their plan, 
 but rather to good fortune attending the survivors. 
 [ 335 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 And the horror of the affair was added to by the fact 
 that General Canby and Dr. Thomas were the only 
 men among the commissioners who had complete 
 faith in the good intentions of Jack and his people. 
 
 It was said afterwards that Captain Jack was insane 
 at the time of the assassination; but the skill he dis- 
 played later in the fighting showed that his insanity 
 — if he was mentally affected — w as only a mania for 
 the spilling of the blood of the white man. The im- 
 pudence of the attack proved that the Indians believed 
 their position exceedingly strong and that they did 
 not conceive of the strength in pursuit that would be 
 shown by the whites under such a spur. 
 
 The affair set the country afire. The proponents of 
 the peace policy had not a word to say when a war of 
 extermination was demanded and proclaimed — for 
 General Canby and Dr. Thomas were foremost among 
 the peace people. The troops were within striking 
 distance, and even while the shots fired at the white 
 commissioners were echoing through the Lava-Beds, 
 they were advancing to the scene of the council, only 
 to find the Indians fled, with all the fight taken out 
 of them for the moment by the bold ferocity of the 
 killing. It was evidenced that the Modocs were all 
 affected by the same desire to kill under any circum- 
 stances, for Scarfaced Charlie and another Indian 
 had fired on and mortally wounded Lieutenant Sher- 
 wood, who had come out of his camp in response to 
 the call of a couple of Indians carrying a flag of truce. 
 Charlie fired from ambush. The troops moved into 
 the Lava-Beds beyond the council tent, but saw no 
 sign of the Modocs and withdrew, carrying out the 
 bodies of General Canby and Dr. Thomas. 
 [ 336 ] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 At that day the board of strategy in Indian warfare 
 sat in the newspaper offices of the east. When the 
 story of the killing reached the wise men who con- 
 ducted such affairs of the government, there was a 
 howl against the Modocs, but incidentally it was sug- 
 gested that it might well apply to Indians generally. 
 The soldiers were quite of a mind with the newspaper 
 editors, but those on the borders of the Lava-Beds 
 were confronted by a condition, not a theory. The 
 Modocs would not come out and be exterminated. 
 The situation was illustrated in an incident told of 
 "Bob" Toombs, a member of the Confederate cabi- 
 net in the early days of the Civil War. 
 
 When hostilities were impending Toombs said, "We 
 can whip those d — d Yankees with popguns." After 
 the war, when Toombs was in exile, a Job's-comforter 
 sort of friend recalled his remark and asked him what 
 he thought of the Yankees then. 
 
 "I said we could whip 'em with popguns," said 
 Toombs, "and I think so still; but, d — n 'em, they 
 would n't fight that way!" 
 
 The Modocs declined to come out and be killed, 
 and the soldiers had to make war according to the 
 plan of the enemy. 
 
 A general and determined attack was made on 
 what w^as supposed to be the Modoc position on the 
 morning of the 14th of April. The Warm Spring 
 scouts had located a part of the Modocs along the line 
 of one of the frightful crevices that seam the face of the 
 country. A mortar battery was brought up and the 
 soldiers advanced under cover of its fire. The Indians 
 were located by the gunners, and in two days' fighting 
 — during which very few soldiers set eyes on a Modoc 
 [ 337 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 headcloth — more execution was done by the shelling 
 of the "cave" than by any other means during the 
 succeeding engagements. A tremendous weight of 
 metal, for that day and country, was thrown into the 
 Indian position, and eleven Indians were killed, eight 
 of them being women. It was told afterwards that one 
 of the men came to his death by trying to bite off the 
 burning fuse of a shell that dropped near him. He 
 was blown to pieces. 
 
 Captain Jack fought his people — men and women 
 — with savage and deadly skill. They were absolutely 
 protected from the rifle-fire of the soldiery, the rocks 
 and crevices, the caves and chasms of the field afford- 
 ing a cover that was never exposed except when a puff 
 of smoke showed for an instant where an Indian had 
 been concealed — for the Indian was never there 
 after he had picked out a man and fired deliberately. 
 The bullets of the soldiers flattened against the walls 
 of rock, while the missiles of the Indian too often 
 found a billet, as was shown in the list of casualties. 
 Six soldiers w^ere killed and fourteen wounded. Cap- 
 tain Jack, not being handicapped by lack of strong 
 positions to which he might withdraw, put the battery 
 out of service on the morning of the 17th by retreating 
 w ith all his people through the crevice he had held. 
 The Indians were a mile away before it was known 
 that they had gone, and it was found that the earth had 
 been cloven by some frightful convulsion of nature, 
 and a gash a mile long, broken by sink-holes, had 
 afforded the Modocs a safe and sure method of re- 
 treat through what was effectually a bomb-proof pas- 
 sage. So well covered was the retreat that it took 
 the Warm Spring scouts, under Donald McKay, a 
 [ 338 ] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 skillful and intelligent frontier-man, six days to locate 
 them. 
 
 Elaborate preparations were completed by April 
 26 for an advance on the part of the Indian scouts and 
 a body of troops on a reconnaissance in force into the 
 centre of the fissure-creviced field of rock. A sand-hill 
 commanding a considerable range of country from the 
 midst of the Lava-Beds was the objective point, and 
 Captain Thomas, fourth Artillery, was sent with four- 
 teen scouts and sixty-four men, under six oflficers, to see 
 if it was practicable to take the mortar and supplies in. 
 
 There has been a great deal of criticism indulged in 
 regarding the courage of some of the men in the party, 
 an official report condemning some of those who re- 
 turned unarmed ; but it was not in human nature to 
 resist an opportunity to escape from certain slaughter 
 that impended over the command before it had pro- 
 ceeded very far into the Lava-Beds; for the Indians 
 appear to have permitted the advance only in order to 
 make the more certain of their aim. The command 
 advanced in open skirmish order, but the nature of the 
 country, the obvious impossibility of defending them- 
 selves in case of attack, the experience of the past, all 
 contributed to make the troops fearful of what they 
 were doing. The march was carried on with infi- 
 nite difficulty on account of the broken nature of the 
 ground. No interference was met with, other than the 
 natural conditions, until noon, by which time the com- 
 mand had reached the base of the sand-hill and a halt 
 was made. The sand-hill is fairly in the centre of an 
 irregular piece of ground, which afforded no opportu- 
 nity for shelter ; it is surrounded at a distance of about 
 a quarter of a mile by ridges of lava. These ridges rise 
 [ 339 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 at once from the open. The men on the sand-hill 
 offered outstanding targets for Indians concealed in 
 the rocky ridges, firing from shelter that was almost 
 absolute. 
 
 And the Modocs were there. Having allowed the 
 little command to enter the trap, they made their 
 presence manifest when a couple of men started out 
 to reconnoitre one of the ridges. The Warm Springs 
 scouts had been sent out from the body of the com- 
 mand, and they were within reach of shelter when a 
 couple of shots proclaimed the presence of the enemy. 
 A number of white men of the command ran for cover 
 when the firing started, the main body starting up the 
 sand-hill. Only the fact that the Modocs w^ere not 
 good marksmen at long range, and were insufficient 
 in numbers to attempt to move in, saved the whites 
 from annihilation. The oflScers, inspired by un- 
 daunted courage, made the most desperate attempts 
 to get their men to a place of safety, or some sort of 
 shelter, but in vain. Where they attempted to force the 
 ridges, there they found the Indians. With astonish- 
 ing rapidity, aided by a thorough knowledge of the 
 ground and the paths through the ridges and crevices, 
 the Modocs anticipated every attempt to move in 
 force. The whites were scattered, and one body of 
 twenty men under Captain Thomas, being isolated, 
 was practically wiped out. The Warm Springs scouts 
 tried to join the soldiers, but were fired on by the 
 troops, who mistook the scouts for hostiles. Five of 
 the six officers in the party, Captain Thomas, Lieu- 
 tenants Howe, Cranston, Wright, and Harris, were 
 killed, as were eighteen men ; and seventeen men were 
 wounded, several of them dying as a result of their 
 [ 340 ] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 wounds. In the afternoon Major Greene, with a 
 strong force, relieved the survivors, but had to camp 
 on the battle-ground all night to prevent the Modocs, 
 who were still hidden in the rocks, from scalping the 
 dead and injured. The Indians drew off in the morn- 
 ing, and it was found later that but one of them had 
 been killed during the affair. 
 
 For many days the Lava-Beds were as quiet and 
 desolate as though the Modocs had been entombed 
 in their caves. No sign of them could be discovered 
 by the scouts, and the location of Jack and his men 
 remained a mystery to the troops camped chafing on 
 the border of the awful country, until a couple of 
 squaws came in and said the Modocs had moved off 
 to the southeast. The next day the scouts brought in 
 a report that a supply train had been attacked and 
 captured near Lake Tule, three of the escort being 
 wounded. A detachment of cavalry was sent in pur- 
 suit of the Indians, and for once Captain Jack, or 
 some of his unruly insubordinates, made an error, by 
 attacking the cavalry. The surprise was complete, 
 being timed for the early morning of May 10 ; but the 
 cavalrymen forced the fighting, compelled the Indi- 
 ans to retire, and chased them into the Lava-Beds. 
 The main body had been advised of the attack, and 
 General Jefferson C. Davis, who had taken personal 
 command, threw a number of detachments into the 
 uninviting field, and a number of posts were thus 
 established. These kept the Indians from uniting 
 in attack. Moreover there was a row in the Modoc 
 camp, and Hooker Jim with twelve warriors, in- 
 cluding the murderers, left Captain Jack — thereby 
 bringing about their undoing, but ultimately saving 
 [341 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 their necks. The party under Jim was discovered 
 and their trail followed, until they were scattered and 
 broken ; finally, starving and dispirited, they came in 
 and laid down their arms. 
 
 As fine a lot of rascals as ever gained immunity 
 from the rope made themselves safe when, on May 22, 
 Hooker Jim, Bogus Charley, Shacknasty Jim, and 
 Steamboat Frank offered to go into the Lava-Beds 
 and bring Captain Jack in. It was claimed afterwards 
 that they were not promised immunity for undertak- 
 ing this service, and the interpreter was blamed, but 
 they saved their necks, though they did not bring Jack 
 in. The next morning Jack was surprised, Boston 
 Charlie surrendered, and Princess Mary, Jack's sister, 
 and seven other women were captured. Jack and his 
 men got away through a crevice. The next day five 
 more warriors surrendered, and Dr. Cabanisse went 
 to talk to Jack. He talked, but Jack stayed out, 
 though Schonchin and Scarf aced Charlie came in. 
 On June 1 a squadron of the First Cavalry caught up 
 with and surrounded Jack, who had only two warriors 
 remaining with him. Then the man ceased fighting 
 and dragged himself into camp. 
 
 He uttered no word when he came except the re- 
 mark, "My legs are no good." Inasmuch as he had 
 been using them to no common purpose for some 
 months, that was not surprising. 
 
 With Jack there came in the two remaining warriors 
 and fifteen women and children. The Modoc war 
 was over, but at a frightful cost, considering the petty 
 size of Jack's following. It was said that the chief 
 might have stayed out for years if his people had been 
 content to abide with his leadership. 
 [ 342 ] 
 
CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS MODOCS 
 
 Captain Jack, Schonchin John, Black Jim, Boston 
 Charlie, One-Eyed Jim, and Slolox were tried by a 
 military commission, charged with murder and as- 
 sault with intent to kill, in violation of the rules of 
 war, and condemned to death. One-Eyed Jim and 
 Slolox were reprieved and their punishment fixed at 
 imprisonment for life, the others were hanged at Fort 
 Klamath, October 3, 1873. The informers were sent 
 to Quapaw agency and Fort Marion, Florida, with 
 the other Modocs. They have thriven, and a few 
 years ago the redoubtable Bogus Charley had carried 
 his people well along the road to Christianity. The 
 Modocs live to-day in fellowship with their old foes, 
 the Klamaths ; and while among them a few years ago, 
 I saw no sign of the ferocious cunning which led these 
 people to the sanguinary defense of the Lava-Beds a 
 generation ago. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE MASTERLY RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND HIS 
 NEZ PERCES 
 
 Forced to leave the Country in which his Fathers died, he conducted 
 a Campaign against Overwhelming Numbers and retreated, Fighting, 
 across Two Territories. 
 
 IN the months of June and July, 1900, I spent 
 five weeks in the company of Chief Joseph of the 
 Nez Perces, an Indian who developed, under 
 pressure, military genius that would have made him 
 one of the great captains of all time if his gifts had 
 been cultivated and he had been given a wider field to 
 operate in. As it was, with only the resources that an 
 Indian living in a lean land could muster, he kept an 
 army at bay, fought with front and rear, and forced 
 his way across about fourteen hundred miles of wild 
 country, in spite of the opposition of an active and 
 ably generaled army under General O. O. Howard, 
 from the western border of Idaho, across Idaho and 
 Montana, to within a few miles of the Canadian 
 boundary-line, in the Milk River country, Montana; 
 and was taken only because he supposed he had made 
 good his object and reached British territory. From 
 army officers and Indians I gathered something of 
 the character of the fight made by Joseph; but the 
 story as I got it from the lips of the old chiief himself, 
 during a trip down through Washington, Idaho, and 
 Oregon, traversing the country in the fastnesses of 
 which Joseph's people had lived for generations and 
 [ 344 ] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 much of which was for him full of reminiscence, was a 
 striking narrative, if indeed that could be called a nar- 
 rative which was fragmentary and told a bit at a time. 
 I had been ordered to Colville reservation, in 
 Washington, to make inquiry into the practicability 
 of removing Joseph and his people, who had been 
 living on the Colville reservation since, decimated by 
 disease, they were returned to the northwest from 
 exile in the Indian Territory. Joseph had fought the 
 army of the United States, when he left Idaho in 1877, 
 because he was not allowed to return to the Wallowa 
 Valley in northeastern Oregon. My experience of the 
 man during our five weeks' close companionship on a 
 trip authorized by the government, gave me the idea 
 that he was making a determined effort to be allowed 
 to return to the Wallowa Valley for the sole purpose 
 of keeping the prestige he was losing — or rather 
 hoping thus to regain that which he had lost. I may 
 have been in error in this, for the deeds of his earlier 
 life, his utterances in council, the persistence with 
 which he disdainfully declined a home on the Lapwai 
 reservation, Idaho, and demanded that he be allowed 
 to live in the Wallowa Valley, showed that the man 
 had in him a strong love for the soil. He said in coun- 
 cil on one occasion, "A man who would not love the 
 ground which holds the bones of his father and mother 
 is worse than a beast." Whatever his object, late in 
 life there could be no doubt that he sincerely longed 
 for a home in the valley in which he had spent his 
 youth, and that he was sadly disappointed when it 
 became apparent that his people did not desire that 
 which his heart longed for. The removal could not 
 be effected. 
 
 [345] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 The Wallowa Valley, which was described as a 
 desert place when Joseph asked to live in it, in the 
 early seventies, now blooms as the rose ; it is covered 
 with fruit-farms, contains four thriving towns, Wal- 
 lowa, Lostine, Enterprise, and Joseph, — Enterprise 
 being the county seat of Wallowa County, Oregon; 
 and the valley is a veritable garden. It was out of the 
 question that the government should purchase enough 
 of this valley to make a home for Joseph and his band 
 — though there is grave doubt whether the title to the 
 land ever passed out of the hands of Joseph and his 
 people by any binding treaty. It is enough that the 
 white man has turned the desert into a garden, that 
 he should enjoy the profit of his enterprise. 
 
 Of the history of the treaty-making which led to 
 the Nez Perces war of 1877 — the only war the Nez 
 Perces ever engaged in with the whites, by the way — 
 I gained much from talking with old Joseph, and I 
 was already familiar with a great deal of it. And this 
 much I knew — and was the more sympathetic in 
 considering the complaints of the old chief because of 
 it : the Nez Perces were long suffering ; they killed no 
 whites until they went on the war-path to prevent 
 their forcible removal to the land appointed for their 
 residence by a government commission in 1876 ; they 
 committed few outrages during the brief and brilliant 
 campaign when General Howard chased them ap- 
 proximately fourteen hundred miles and into the arms 
 of General Nelson A. Miles; and the character of 
 Joseph was directly the opposite of that of Sitting 
 Bull, who was as stolid and stubborn as Joseph was 
 amenable and pliant when properly handled. 
 
 Joseph was the son of Old Joseph, chief of the 
 [ 346 ] 
 
CHIEF JOSEPH 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 Lower Nez Perces. The tribe was divided into many 
 bands, and Old Joseph was one of many chiefs, and 
 the wisest of his generation. "The Thunder-Trav- 
 eling-over-the- Mountains" was the sonorous title en- 
 joyed by the young Joseph, until, by the death of his 
 father, he attained to the chieftaincy of his people. 
 Old Joseph was a party to the treaty of 1855, made by 
 Governor Isaac I. Stevens, in which the whole tribe 
 joined in the sale of a part of their lands to the govern- 
 ment. Old Joseph always maintained that he had no 
 idea of selling at any time the land of his people in 
 the Wallowa Valley. But it is certain that the other 
 chiefs of his nation conveyed by treaty in 1863 all 
 their land, except that contained in the Lapwai reser- 
 vation; and as Old Joseph had joined them in the 
 original tribal treaty, it was held that he had given an 
 implied consent to be ruled by what the whole tribe 
 did. Young Joseph said of the deal : — 
 
 "It was as though I had some horses and a white 
 man came and offered me a price for them. I told him 
 I did not wish to sell, and he went to a neighbor of 
 mine and said, ' Joseph has horses and I want to buy 
 them, ' and the neighbor had made the price, sold the 
 horses, and the white man had then come to me and 
 said, *I have bought your horses; give them to me.'" 
 
 The Upper Nez Perces sold the land and the white 
 men went into the Wallowa Valley and took claims. 
 For years there was argument and contention about it. 
 Old Joseph never acquiesced in the sale, though it was 
 said that his name was aflSxed to the treaty ; and young 
 Joseph, acting on the dying words of his father, de- 
 clined to live elsewhere than in the valley that had 
 been the home of his fathers. It is certain that Joseph 
 [ 347 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 and his people had the sympathy of those who were 
 best acquainted with the merits of their contention. 
 Even General Howard and the other military men, 
 who were kept at their wit's ends to keep the younger 
 Joseph in the reservation that had been appointed to 
 him at Lapwai, said that he was right, in the main. 
 That the government had some idea of restoring Jo- 
 seph and the Lower Nez Perces to their home in the 
 Wallowa was shown by the fact that in 1875 a com- 
 mission was appointed to appraise the value of the 
 improvements made by settlers, and a bill was intro- 
 duced in Congress that year to appropriate the neces- 
 sary money to compensate the settlers, something like 
 sixty-seven thousand dollars, but for some inscrutable 
 reason it did not pass, though Indians, settlers, and 
 commissioners were all in favor of it. It was another of 
 the blunders of which those times were so fruitful, and 
 which were to bear other fruit in the midst of bloody 
 fields ere long. And there were many councils in 
 which Joseph took a part, and his voice was always for 
 peace. General Howard, who was in command of the 
 Department of the Columbia at the time, reported 
 Joseph as having said at the last council : " I would 
 rather give up my country than have war. I will give up 
 my father's grave, but I will not shed the blood of a 
 white man." That day Too-Hul-Hul-Sute, the chief 
 of a band and the "Dreamer-Drummer" priest of a 
 peculiar sect of spiritualists, whose belief was very like 
 that of the ghost-dancers of later days, was put under 
 arrest for saying in council that he would not go to the 
 reservation at Lapwai, the other Indians might do as 
 they liked. At this council there were present several 
 bands, including that of Joseph, White Bird, Too- 
 [348] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 Hul-Hul-Sute, Hush- Hush- Cute, which comprised a 
 number of smaller bands, and the band of Looking 
 Glass, who is said to have been the active soldier and 
 executive of Chief Joseph in the campaign that was 
 soon to open. Looking Glass was good to Joseph 
 while he lived ; but when he was killed, Joseph hon- 
 ored his memory by taking to wife his two widows — 
 they were with the old chief at Nespelim, on the Col- 
 ville reservation, when I visited there. 
 
 May 14, 1877, it was that General Howard met 
 Joseph in council for the last time, and Joseph made 
 his last peace-talk to the whites. It ended by General 
 Howard giving Joseph and the Lower Nez Perces 
 thirty days in which to move on to the reservation that 
 was set apart for them. The Indians were told that 
 if they did not move in the appointed time, the soldiers 
 would remove them. 
 
 At that time there was no open talk of war, but an 
 army officer, who was an observer of the Nez Perces, 
 said of them that they performed cavalry tactics with 
 perfect accuracy, and as though they had been thor- 
 oughly drilled. He was laughed at, and a few weeks 
 later those same tactics, and some more to the point, 
 were practiced by the Indians in actual warfare. 
 Chief Joseph may not have been responsible for this 
 drilling, but when he, as leader, came to take com- 
 mand of the warriors, he found that Looking Glass 
 had a well-disciplined soldiery in the peace-loving 
 people. Councils were held among the bands, and in 
 these Joseph says he took no part, other than to urge 
 peace. But he was the most influential of the Indians, 
 and they went to war. Perhaps his peaceable inclina- 
 tion was born in later days, but certain it is that the 
 [ 349 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 chiefs were for war and determined to resist the sol- 
 diery when the troops came. 
 
 Some of the chiefs were for attacking the settlers. 
 Joseph opposed this, saying that the settlers were 
 men of peace. The others pointed to the fact that it 
 was the settlers who had killed Joseph's brother; it 
 was settlers who killed another Indian ; settlers headed 
 by Harry Mason had whipped two Indians; and, 
 lastly, it was settlers who ran off a band of their horses 
 even after they had been notified to make ready to 
 move. The Indians kept on drilling for the full limit 
 of the thirty days, and they held nightly councils at 
 Rocky Canon. Then there was an outbreak. 
 
 The morning of the day upon which they expected 
 the soldiers to come, they killed an old man named 
 Devine on the Salmon River. There were only three 
 Indians concerned in the killing, and these same three 
 killed three men the next day and drove their stock 
 off to Camas Prairie, where the main body was en- 
 camped, and urged their fellows to the war-path. 
 Joseph and his brother, Ollacutt, were not with the 
 other Indians in the camp ; Joseph's wife was sick and 
 the brothers were with her. White Bird, who was a 
 chief of importance, declared for war, and that night 
 there were ten white men killed on the Salmon River 
 on the road between Mt. Idaho and Fort Lapwai. 
 Then it was, when war was inevitable, that Joseph took 
 command of his people and led them over to White 
 Bird Canon, and made them ready to meet the sol- 
 diers. 
 
 It was on a day in June, twenty-three years later, 
 a lovely day, and we were on a frightful mountain trail 
 leading down to and overlooking the Grand Ronde 
 [ 350 ] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 River in northeastern Oregon, that Joseph told me 
 this part of his story. The trail was at once so narrow 
 and so precipitous that, meeting another team coming 
 up the trail, we, having but a light vehicle, stopped, 
 took the buggy apart to let the other pass, and rested. 
 The chief was very near to fighting his battles over 
 again that day. His protestations of peaceful inten- 
 tion disappeared, as he warmed to his story and told 
 of the beginning of the campaign. 
 
 "I had two hundred and forty fighting men at 
 first," said the old chief, "but Looking Glass came 
 in afterwards with more. I knew that there would 
 be much fighting, for I had talked to my people, and 
 it was settled that we would go to the buffalo country 
 over to the east. I told my people that they must not 
 fight with settlers, but wait for the soldiers, and our 
 scouts told us that the soldiers would soon come after 
 us. They did n't think that the Nez Perces would 
 stand against the troops. I found that our young men 
 had been making ready for the trouble, and so had 
 the other chiefs, and we had many guns and much 
 ammunition — we had more before the fighting was 
 over," the old man added grimly. "Until the first 
 fight had been fought and the victory had been given 
 to the Nez Perces, I did not think that we would go 
 farther than the buffalo grounds. After the fight, I 
 knew that I would have to lead my people to the coun- 
 try where Sitting Bull had found a refuge when pur- 
 sued." 
 
 I asked Joseph if he knew at the time what lay be- 
 tween him and Canada, and he waved his arm over 
 to the east. " We knew that the distance was great, but 
 it is easier to travel and fight than to die. Our young 
 [351 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 men were not afraid, and they knew the Indian and 
 the white man's way of fighting." 
 
 I asked him where he got his knowledge of military 
 tactics, and he replied that he had no such knowledge, 
 — that his people had seen the cavalry drill and they 
 could manoeuvre as the white troops did in time of 
 peace. " The Great Spirit puts it in the heart and head 
 of man to know how to defend himself." In this way 
 he accounted for the fact that he employed every ob- 
 structive and offensive device known in the art of 
 war ; and if instinct led him to a knowledge of how to 
 throw up defensive works as he did to obstruct the 
 attack of Howard and Gibbon, it was very fortunate 
 that his instinct had not been cultivated. 
 
 And this is the story I gathered from him. He did 
 not give the designations of the troops involved, but 
 in every engagement he knew very accurately the 
 number opposed to him, and there was never any 
 doubt in his mind about the strength of the force he 
 had to cope with at every stage of his progressive 
 flight, until he made his last stand. 
 
 Colonel Perry had been sent down from Fort Lap- 
 wai to chastise the marauding Nez Perces. With the 
 fatuous ignorance that characterized the opening of 
 most of our Indian wars, the force under Perry was 
 absurdly inadequate to the task given it. It was sup- 
 posed that the mere show of military strength would 
 send the Nez Perces scurrying to their burrows on 
 the reservation. Joseph waited calmly for the attack, 
 and early in the morning of June 17 he lay in the 
 White Bird Canon, watching the approach of Perry 
 and his force, riding down the broad trail into the 
 canon, for the purpose of surprising the Indians. The 
 [ 352 ] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 Indians wanted to move across the Salmon River and 
 get away, but Joseph asserted his authority and said 
 the fight must be fought there, and he ambushed a 
 number of mounted Indians to strike the command 
 after it had passed, while the rest of the fighting force 
 was hidden across the trail. There was not an Indian 
 in sight, and the troops were moving easily down on 
 the distant village, when every tree and rock suddenly 
 became alive, and the valley blazed with a fire of 
 guns that threw the troops into confusion. Many men 
 fell, and the order was given to retreat to the ridge 
 that had been passed. Then it was that the Indians 
 in ambush arose and struck the command on the 
 flank. The retreat became a rout ; but when the troops 
 escaped from the canon they were put into some sort 
 of order. They got away at a gallop, and Joseph pur- 
 sued them up to within four miles of Mt. Idaho. 
 
 General Howard woke up to the situation and at 
 once understood that the peaceable Nez Perces had 
 turned into a military organization that it would take 
 a force to control ; but it required some time to get 
 men on the ground. Joseph kept changing that ground, 
 and there were many small engagements, in which the 
 Indians invariably had the advantage, except in an 
 attack made on the band of Looking Glass, who had 
 not yet joined Joseph. It was proposed to arrest 
 Looking Glass, for it was known that he was a capable 
 man and would be an able lieutenant to Joseph. 
 Looking Glass waited too long before breaking camp 
 and was surprised by a considerable force, his own 
 people being greatly outnumbered. Here he showed 
 his generalship, for he got away with all of his people 
 and camp impedimenta, though compelled to aban- 
 [ 353 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 don seven hundred ponies. He joined forces with 
 Joseph, and they moved out to the east and south. 
 On the Mt. Idaho road, they attacked a command of 
 regulars, and killed many of the soldiers. Joseph said 
 that this detachment was in his way and that he had 
 to disperse them to get through. He knew by this time 
 that General Howard was organizing a force, and he 
 proposed to make his stand for an engagement with 
 a superior force where he would have the choice of 
 ground. He made for the Clearwater, moving with 
 great rapidity across the Lapwai reservation, and by 
 the time Howard was ready to strike him, he had his 
 lodges set up beyond the stream and was in position. 
 The battle that ensued showed the mettle of the In- 
 dians and the capacity of their leader. 
 
 General Howard, who had four hundred men, two 
 gatlings, and a howitzer, advanced in formation for 
 a pitched battle and left his supply-train practically 
 unguarded in the rear. Joseph knew instinctively that 
 the commissary was the important feature of the white 
 man's campaign, and he sent a considerable portion 
 of his force to attack and destroy the train. The 
 movement was unsuccessful, because Howard dis- 
 covered it in time and sent back a force to protect the 
 commissary. The diversion helped the Indians, for 
 they had force enough to protect their position, as 
 Joseph thought. All the afternoon of July 1 1 the bat- 
 tle raged, the troops and Indians both throwing up 
 works, from which the fighting was continued during 
 the night, and no progress was made during the next 
 day, until Howard was reinforced by a considerable 
 number of cavalry, when, with artillery and cavalry, 
 an attack was made on the left of the position of the 
 [ 354 ] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 Indians. Joseph fought for a few minutes against the 
 attack, but knowing that he could do nothing in a 
 hand-to-hand encounter, he fled. The artillery was 
 so close in, that it commanded the Indian village 
 across the river, and it was abandoned, practically, 
 though the Indian women were already making off 
 with a great share of the equipage and the ponies. 
 Joseph formed his men again and returned, with a 
 show of force, to intercept the soldiers, who were fol- 
 lowing the fugitives fast; he stopped the troops and 
 engaged them long enough to give the fleeing people 
 a good start, then gave up fighting and scurried after 
 them at a pace that defied pursuit. Howard had won 
 the battle, but with a very considerable loss. The 
 Indian loss was trifling, and Joseph was on his way 
 to the east. 
 
 The next morning Howard continued his pursuit. 
 Joseph picked out a spot for an ambuscade, set his 
 rear-guard to protect the retreat, and pushed the main 
 body of his people on to the fastnesses of the Lolo 
 trail. The advance of Howard's force fell into the 
 ambuscade, and the whole column was thrown into 
 confusion and halted. Before night Joseph was safe 
 for the time, in a position that he might have held 
 indefinitely against an equal force. He knew that no 
 one could pass him on the Lolo trail, which crosses 
 the Bitter Root Mountains, and Howard knew it too. 
 The general made a feint of sending a part of his 
 command back to Lapwai, intending to make a 
 forced march by a detour and come in at the rear of 
 Joseph. Joseph did not wait for the trap to spring. 
 He decamped, and when the soldiers struck the trail 
 fifteen miles behind where Joseph should have been, 
 [ 355 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 that astute warrior had passed the junction-point and 
 was making his way over into the valley of the Bitter 
 Root. Howard could do nothing but follow him and 
 telegraph word to the posts in Montana that Joseph 
 was coming. 
 
 Freed from much of their camp equipment, but 
 with plenty of ponies and supplies, the Indians moved 
 with incredible rapidity, and Joseph was in the midst 
 of the settlements of the Lolo River, while he was 
 supposed to be still in the mountains. 
 
 Here he gave evidence that he only wanted to make 
 good his flight, for he made no attempt to molest the 
 settlers. A fort had been built some distance ahead on 
 the trail, and Looking Glass was sent to interview the 
 people occupying it. He told them that the Indians 
 did not want to molest them, but simply to pass un- 
 hindered. The volunteers told them to go on. In two 
 towns, Stevensville and Corwallis, the Nez Perces 
 actually stopped and traded with the whites, leaving 
 in plenty of time to keep well ahead of Howard, who 
 was coming up. 
 
 The telegraph, which brought about the downfall 
 of Joseph in the end, had been busy, and troops were 
 moving to intercept him. He knew nothing of the 
 telegraph, but his instinct told him that he must not 
 loiter. General Gibbon was riding as fast as his 
 teams could carry him, across from Fort Shaw to Fort 
 Missoula on the Bitter Root, to cut off the flight of the 
 Indians. He had one hundred and ninety infantrymen 
 in wagons, and hoped, at least, to stay the fugitives 
 until Howard came up. Joseph knew what he might 
 expect, and he got to and passed the Bitter Root before 
 Gibbon arrived, but Gibbon continued in pursuit. 
 [ 356 ] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 Joseph had turned to the south, but it was only for 
 the purpose of getting into a country where he might 
 utilize his force to greater advantage, for he knew that 
 he could not go through directly to his objective point 
 on the Canadian boundary. He went up the Bitter 
 Root Valley, looking out for Howard, but paying no 
 attention to Gibbon, not knowing that the latter was 
 on his trail ; and he was resting in the Big Hole Valley 
 when Gibbon came up with him. 
 
 General Gibbon had moved swiftly, and his pursuit 
 was masked. Joseph admitted at the end that he was 
 surprised in the Big Hole, but he came out of it very 
 well. 
 
 In the morning of August 8 the Indians of Joseph's 
 band were aroused by the presence of the soldiers in 
 their very midst. The troops dashed right through the 
 camp, but the Indians with marvelous facility got away 
 in every direction, took to the ravines, allowed the sol- 
 diers to take the camp, formed into some sort of order, 
 and while the troops were still flushed with the success 
 of the surprise, Joseph drove down on them with 
 his whole force. He retook the camp and forced the 
 troops to withdraw to the protection of the timber. 
 Again there was a battle that lasted during the day. 
 Joseph threw up earthworks and advanced his men 
 under cover. Repeatedly he stormed the position of 
 Gibbon ; he even captured a howitzer, and if his peo- 
 ple could have served the gun his victory might have 
 been more complete than it was. Near midnight the 
 Indians had fought Gibbon's command to a stand- 
 still, in spite of the most determined bravery and de- 
 fense of the troops. The chief could not capture the 
 command, but he took everything movable, including 
 [357 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 many of the horses, and vanished. Twelve hours 
 later Howard arrived, too late to change the disastrous 
 outcome of the fight, in which Gibbon was badly 
 wounded. Many white men had fallen, and the In- 
 dian loss was comparatively heavy, especially in view 
 of the fact that Looking Glass, the diplomat, but not 
 the ablest of Joseph's lieutenants of that name, lay 
 dead on the field to be scalped by the Bannock scouts 
 belonging to Howard's party. A great number of men 
 and women were among the dead left by the Indians 
 on the field, the surprise being complete, so far as they 
 were concerned. 
 
 During ten days Joseph moved leisurely. Still look- 
 ing for a pass through which he might run the gauntlet 
 to the north and east, he crossed into Idaho again and 
 came into Camas Prairie with his stock refreshed — 
 and replenished to the extent of about three hundred 
 head taken from the whites. His people were rested, 
 but he knew that fighting must begin again, for How- 
 ard, relentless in his pursuit, was but one day behind 
 him. Joseph told me that he had expected to be at- 
 tacked by the Montana militia when he was struck by 
 Gibbon, for he thought he had shaken Howard off. 
 He was surprised to find Howard so close, and did not 
 know that the general was in command when he made 
 a bold attempt to cut out the stock belonging to the 
 troops following after he had started east in Montana. 
 He turned back in the night, sent in scouts to cut the 
 hobbles of the leaders of the herd, then rode down on 
 the herd before the pickets knew what was happening. 
 The horses were grazing wide, it being thought quite 
 out of the question that Joseph should have the temer- 
 ity to make an attack on a foe that contemplated sur- 
 [ 358 ] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 prising him in good time. Whooping like fiends, the 
 Indians went at the horses, and before any more men 
 than the pickets on herd duty got into an encounter, 
 the Nez Perces were off again to the shadowy east, out 
 of which they had come, and with them all of the 
 horses of the command, except about enough to mount 
 three troops of cavalry. These went at once in pursuit 
 and picked up stragglers to the number of a few score, 
 but gave over the pursuit with morning. 
 
 Joseph had been informed that a detachment had 
 been sent by Howard to occupy Tacher's Pass, 
 through which he proposed to go to make his way into 
 the Yellowstone Park; and he moved his main body 
 ahead to reach the pass, while a body of raiders went 
 back in pursuit of the cavalry, who had retaken some 
 of the horses. Part of the recaptured mounts they 
 captured again, then made off for the mountains, 
 reached the pass before Lieutenant Bacon and his 
 command, and got clear away into the National Park, 
 leaving Howard to sit down and wait for fresh mounts 
 and supplies. It was exasperating work for Howard, 
 but the Nez Perces, though they had lost many men 
 and women, were enjoying it, and Joseph, who was a 
 very vain man, had come to know that he was per- 
 forming a military feat that would make him famous. 
 
 As evidence of his attitude toward the non-combat- 
 ant whites at this time, Joseph told me how he had 
 captured three men and two women in the Park and 
 had set them at liberty, unharmed, after holding them 
 for three days. This must have been the Cowan party, 
 of which three men were killed in the Indian attack. 
 As a matter of fact, Joseph did restrain his Indians 
 and none of the captives were ill-treated. 
 [ 359 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 Colonel Sturgis with the Seventh Cavalry had been 
 sent out to intercept Joseph, but the chief got wind of 
 the movement. He went leisurely down to the Yel- 
 lowstone, crossed that river, and started in the di- 
 rection of Stinking River, a feint which cost Sturgis 
 much time, for, instead of going on, Joseph changed 
 his course, went down to Clark's Fork, and on to the 
 Yellowstone again. Sturgis, with three hundred and 
 fifty men, was by this time on the trail, and he caught 
 up with Joseph in the wild and arid country across 
 the Yellowstone. The country was much broken, a 
 sage-brush plain split up by deep ravines. On Septem- 
 ber 13, Joseph stopped to give battle and engaged the 
 troops with his rear-guard. It was a most exasperating 
 thing for Sturgis to see the main body of the enemy 
 slip away while he was engaged with the wild riders of 
 the Nez Perces rear, and he sent a detachment under 
 Captain Benteen to cut off the Indian main body, 
 which was making for Cannon Greek. This detach- 
 ment caught up with the herds and cut off a bunch of 
 ponies, but could not get close to the Indians before 
 they reached the creek, where they made a stand by 
 occupying the natural defenses while the women and 
 ponies were being hurried through the canon, Sturgis 
 fought through the day, but had made little headway 
 beyond forcing the Nez Perces to retire down the 
 canon, and he withdrew his men and went into camp 
 at the entrance to the canon. The Indians were too 
 much exhausted to press forward, and in the morning 
 the friendly Crows, who were with Sturgis, cut out a 
 great herd of their stock. But they were still well 
 mounted and kept ahead of Sturgis, who could not 
 get near enough to do any effective fighting. The 
 [ 360 ] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 cavalry was distanced in the flight along the Mussel- 
 shell River and around the Judith Mountains, and, 
 having shaken off his foe, Joseph reached the Mis- 
 souri River September 23. The distances covered 
 were tremendous, and there had been hard fighting, 
 but the Nez Perces were within reach of the goal, as 
 Joseph thought. Joseph attacked a little fort at the 
 mouth of Cow Creek on the Missouri, but did not 
 press the attack, and had a skirmish with a small force 
 under Major Ilges, who had moved from Fort Benton 
 to engage with the Nez Perces. Moving to the north, 
 Joseph went on leisurely, thinking he had lost his 
 pursuers and that he had plenty of time to get across 
 the line and reach Sitting Bull's place of refuge. He 
 went into camp with a view to remaining some time 
 on Snake Creek, near the Bear Paw Mountains, and 
 prepared to rest. He thought he was safe across the 
 Canadian line. As a matter of fact, he was thirty miles 
 south of the boundary. 
 
 This mistake cost him dearly, and he almost wept 
 when he told me of his feelings when he was again 
 attacked. 
 
 The story of his last fight Joseph told me at Lewis- 
 ton, Idado, where we remained a day upon our return 
 trip from his old home at Wallowa. We had had a 
 long, wearisome journey by team conveyance, and 
 felt that we needed a day's rest; and it was after we 
 had crossed the Snake River, with his good-humor 
 restored, that I led him back to his story. 
 
 Colonel (now General) Nelson A. Miles, retired, 
 was destined to wear the laurels that General Howard 
 had pursued for so many weary miles. Howard was 
 [361 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 still far away, and Joseph safe enough from his pur- 
 suit, if the chief had kept on a few miles farther 
 before going into camp. Miles was at Fort Keogh, 
 on the Yellowstone, when he was ordered to head off 
 Joseph. His equipment was equal to the task of cop- 
 ing with Joseph at his best, and at this time the Nez 
 Perces force was dreadfully reduced by death and 
 wounds. Miles's command consisted of cavalry and 
 mounted infantry, with a force of scouts, and a couple 
 of guns. He made a rapid march to Carroll, got a 
 trace of Joseph, — which was plain enough, for his 
 trail was over the whole country, — and left Carroll 
 for the Bear Paw Mountains, where Joseph was even 
 then. 
 
 "I sat down," said Joseph, "in a fat and beautiful 
 country. I had won my freedom and the freedom of 
 my people. There were many empty places in the 
 lodges and in the council, but we were in the land 
 where we would not be forced to live in a place we did 
 not want. I believed that if I could remain safe at a 
 distance and talk straight to the men that would be 
 sent by the Great Father, I could get back the Wal- 
 lowa Valley and return in peace. That is why I did 
 not allow my young men to kill and destroy the white 
 settlers after I began to fight. I wanted to leave a 
 clean trail, and if there were dead soldiers in that 
 trail I could not be held to blame. I had sent out run- 
 ners to find Sitting Bull, to tell him that another band 
 of red men had been forced to run from the soldiers of 
 the Great Father, and to propose that we join forces 
 if we were attacked. My people were recovering their 
 health and the wounded were getting better of their 
 hurts. I was ready to move on and seek out a per- 
 [ 362 ] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 manent camp when, one morning, Bear Coat and his 
 soldiers came in sight and stampeded our horses, and 
 I knew that I had made a mistake by not crossing into 
 the country of the Red Coats, also in not keeping the 
 country scouted in my rear." 
 
 On the sixth day after leaving Carroll, Miles came 
 upon the camp of the Nez Perces. His scouts had 
 brought in the news of the find two days previously. 
 No rear-guard was maintained by Joseph, and Miles 
 intended to surprise the Indians, by making the at- 
 tack early in the morning. The approach to the camp 
 was uncovered, but the Indians saw the soldiers com- 
 ing in time to get to cover in the hills and ravines. The 
 pony herd, which was grazing some distance from the 
 camp, was cut off in the first attack and captured, but 
 the Indians, having reached cover, poured such a 
 deadly fire into the ranks of the troopers that they 
 withdrew, after losing a great number of their men, 
 and invested the position occupied by the Nez Perces. 
 Joseph told me that he could have escaped easily 
 enough by leaving the wounded, the infirm, and the 
 children, but he thought he could make terms with 
 Miles, — in case Sitting Bull, to whom he had sent 
 urgent messages, did not come to his aid. For four 
 days the fighting went on. Miles being joined by 
 Howard and his staff after he had the situation well 
 in hand ; and on the fifth day Howard sat by and saw 
 Chief Joseph surrender himself into the hands of his 
 subordinate. 
 
 There is no doubt — indeed, the fact has never been 
 questioned — that Colonel Miles accepted the sur- 
 render of Joseph on honorable terms. That oflBcer 
 assured Joseph that he would be sent back to his 
 [ 363 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 reservation in the spring. Miles thought the promise 
 would be carried out; so did Howard. Miles made the 
 same offer to White Bird, who had escaped with some- 
 thing over one hundred people just before the sur- 
 render, and who was safe in British territory. With 
 this understanding, Chief Joseph brought in the peo- 
 ple who had survived the fearful march and tremen- 
 dous fighting, numbering four hundred and thirty-one 
 men, women, and children — White Bird had taken 
 many fighting men with him when he escaped. The 
 Nez Perces were sent to Indian Territory instead of 
 being sent home, and were not transferred to the 
 Colville reservation, where they now live, for many 
 years. Then they were broken and decimated in 
 numbers. 
 
 The epic of Joseph's retreat has not yet been writ- 
 ten, though some of the men concerned in it have 
 written of the affair from the point of view of personal 
 experience. The magnificent distances covered by the 
 red and the white men in that campaign have seldom 
 been paralleled in warfare, and it is as well that the 
 personal and official record of the flight and pursuit 
 has been chronicled by General Howard, else it might 
 be regarded a few years hence as a romance of those 
 days in the Far West which are no more. From the 
 beginning of the pursuit across the Lolo trail to the 
 embarkation of Howard's command for the return 
 journey (July 27 to October 10), seventy-five days 
 elapsed, and the exact distance covered by the troops 
 is recorded as 1321 miles. It is certain that Joseph 
 traveled a greater distance, for he frequently doubled 
 on his trail to throw off his pursuers ; and he carried 
 with him his women, children, and horses. It was a 
 [364] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 marvelous performance, looked at from the point of 
 view either of the pursued or of the pursuing. 
 
 As I made very accurate notes of the statements 
 made by men concerned in the flight and wholly fa- 
 miliar with the circumstances, it is as well that some 
 disputed matters should be set at rest here. It has 
 been assumed that there was only one Looking Glass 
 with Joseph. As a matter of fact there were two of 
 that name. One was a warrior, the other a diplomat, 
 and both of chiefly rank. Edward Raboin, of Lapwai, 
 Idaho, was with me as interpreter when I made the 
 trip with Joseph in 1900, and I had the story from 
 him; the Reverend Mark Arthur, a Nez Perce full- 
 blood, and an ordained Presbyterian minister, together 
 with Judge James of the Indian police court at Fort 
 Lapwai, cleared up to my satisfaction some points in 
 dispute. Raboin knew all of the Nez Perces, and the 
 Reverend Mr. Arthur, who was a lad of about ten 
 years at the time of the trouble, was with Joseph 
 throughout the flight, escaping to Canada after the 
 surrender to Miles. They all three agreed that Rain- 
 bow, who was also sometimes called Looking Glass, 
 together with Five Wounds, both very prominent In- 
 dians, were killed at the Big Hole battle, and that 
 Looking Glass, the great leader, and OUicutt — Jo- 
 seph's younger brother — were both killed at Bear 
 Paw by Miles's command. Mr. Arthur declared to me 
 that he saw all these men killed and that there could 
 be no mistake about it, and in this he was fully cor- 
 roborated by the others. Mr. Arthur said that Look- 
 ing Glass made a desperate attempt to escape after 
 Joseph's surrender and was literally shot to pieces by 
 the soldiers. White Bird, who was also prominent in 
 [ 365 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 the Joseph camp, escaped to Canada and lived there 
 until his death, a few years ago. 
 
 Joseph went with me down into the country where 
 the grave of his father was made. He found, instead 
 of the desert that surrounded him in his youth, a rich 
 and bountiful country. He scarcely recognized the 
 Wallowa Valley, but we found the grave of Old Jo- 
 seph, his father. A white man who owned the ground 
 in which the old man's bones were interred, with a 
 spirit too rare among his kind, had the plat enclosed 
 and kept the grave in such condition that the heart of 
 Joseph, who was with me, was melted, and he wept. 
 It would have been an impossibility to replace the 
 band of Joseph in their old home. Towns and vil- 
 lages stood where the pony-herds of the Nez Perces 
 were wont to graze on the scant grass ; orchards grew 
 where the sage-brush had been, and Joseph knew not 
 his old home. 
 
 I took the old man back to the Colville reservation. 
 His people had no desire to follow him. His glories 
 had been forgotten and a new chief reigned "who 
 knew not Joseph." The old man died on September 
 21, 1904, and his death recalled for a day the accom- 
 plishments of the red-skinned general who had made 
 one of the greatest campaigns in the history of the 
 world's wars. 
 
 The Historical Society of the State of Washington 
 erected a monument to Joseph's memory at his grave 
 at Nespelim, Washington, up the Nespelim River 
 about six miles from its confluence with the Colum- 
 bia River, which monument is said to have been paid 
 for by Mr. Samuel Hill, son-in-law of James J. Hill, 
 [ 366 ] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 the railroad magnate, but erected by the state of Wash- 
 ington, in name, to give it historical prominence. The 
 monument was dedicated on June 20, 1905, in the 
 presence of Joseph's band of Nez Perces, Captain 
 John McA. Webster, U. S. A., retired, agent of the 
 Coh ille reservation, and a large concourse of promi- 
 nent white persons, residents of the states of Washing- 
 ton, Oregon, and Idaho. 
 
 Since writing the foregoing I have been over the 
 Bear Paw battle-field and was greatly impressed by 
 its striking testimony to the tremendous military 
 capacity of Chief Joseph. And I was even more 
 profoundly impressed by the corroboration in de- 
 tail given to the story of Joseph by the indestructi- 
 ble evidence of the topography of the battle-ground. 
 That the event should have been retained with great 
 fidelity in the mind of the old man, I expected, for 
 these children of nature have faithful and accurate 
 memories. But Joseph had taken for granted many 
 things which were not revealed to me until I went over 
 the scene of the battle. The old warrior had assumed 
 that I would know that he had fought the white sol- 
 diers with skill and sagacity such as might have been 
 demonstrated by a man versed in the military science. 
 I did know that he had displayed tremendous re- 
 sources, but I could not know that he had put aside 
 the cunning of his kind and had met the white men 
 with such a defense as General Miles himself, or 
 General Howard, might have resorted to had either 
 of them been in charge of the Nez Perce defense. 
 
 The battle-field lies on Snake Creek, Montana, 
 about thirty miles southwest of the Fort Belknap 
 [ 367] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 agency. In the calm of an October day, 1907, I went 
 over the ground which attained such bloody fame 
 thirty years previously, and which, in its principal 
 features, is unchanged. The topography and general 
 aspect of the field, excepting the slight changes 
 brought about by the work of the husbandmen, 
 doubtless present the same appearance as on the eve 
 of this historical conflict, September 30, 1877. But 
 my eye missed the Indian camp; there were no ser- 
 ried ranks of bluecoats. With old Joseph's story in 
 my mind, however, I had no difliculty in following 
 the details of the fight. With me were Major W. R. 
 Logan, of the Fort Belknap agency, William Bent, 
 who was a scout with General Miles at the time of the 
 fight, and Bernard Striker, a Gros Ventre mixed-blood 
 who knew the field well. The visit was full of melan- 
 choly interest for Major Logan, for his father. Cap- 
 tain Logan, Seventh Infantry U. S. A., was killed at 
 the Big Hole battle with the Nez Perces. 
 
 The location of the Indian camp at the time it 
 was surprised by Miles's command was as distinctly 
 marked as are the ancient remains of the fortified en- 
 campments left as evidences of the Roman occupa- 
 tion of Britain. Joseph had intrenched himself with 
 speed, skill, and sagacity, such as is altogether incon- 
 ceivable to one knowing Indian methods of fighting 
 and Indian characteristics. It is difficult to believe 
 that the site for the camp and its entrenchment was 
 selected by a man knowing nothing of military sci- 
 ence according to the schools. All along that front of 
 the camp which was exposed to attack, rifle-pits were 
 constructed and fought with courage and skill. As 
 Joseph was surprised, these pits must have been dug 
 [ 368 ] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 after the attack in which Miles cut off the herd; at 
 least their construction must have been completed 
 after the first attack. The fact that the first attack, 
 which was made in strength and in the evident ex- 
 pectation of forcing the defense at the first blow, was 
 repulsed with such bloody results that twenty-three 
 soldiers were killed by the Indians on their first charge, 
 indicates that Joseph's fighting men were under 
 cover. The valiant work of Sergeant Martin, of D 
 Troop, Seventh Cavalry, who was killed within the 
 Indian lines, and of other heroes whose names have 
 not been recalled, was wholly ineffective in the face of 
 the withering fire that was directed at the troopers 
 from the rifle-pits. Joseph was fighting under condi- 
 tions wholly new to the troops ; it was almost unheard 
 of that Indians should entrench themselves in arti- 
 ficial coverts, and the consequences were fatal to the 
 troops. 
 
 The rifle-pits, which still remain as clearly marked 
 as on the day of the fight, except that grass has grown 
 over the ground, were calculated with great skill. 
 They were dug separately, but connected by under- 
 ground passages, so that, without exposing them- 
 selves, the Indians could move about from one pit to 
 another. The meagreness of the tools with which this 
 work was done — for the digging was accomplished 
 by means of knives, and shovels made of frying-pans 
 with sharpened edges — made it a task of great labor. 
 But the ingenious character of these defenses accounts 
 for the resistance which was carried on for four days 
 against a force that was immensely superior to that of 
 Joseph in point of numbers and equipment. I could 
 easily imagine the astonishment of the troops at being 
 [ 369 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 foiled by a defense which could not have been looked 
 for in a position so feebly manned, though chosen with 
 due regard for the military advantages which Joseph 
 never overlooked. 
 
 The rifle-pits stretch across that front of the In- 
 dian camp from which an attack must come, — the 
 natural condition being utilized for protection from 
 other quarters ; and I could not help wondering what 
 the result would have been if Sitting Bull and his 
 people, who were encamped in the British possessions 
 about one hundred and fifty miles north from Joseph's 
 camp, had been brought to the assistance of Joseph 
 before the troops attacked. Of course, the ultimate 
 conclusion must have been the same; but if that for- 
 tified and entrenched position on Snake Creek had 
 been held by anything like the force which Joseph 
 had with him when he began his retreat, the victory 
 of the whites must have been won at a fearful cost. 
 
 With its melancholy evidences of the days that 
 were fraught with terror on the border, the battle- 
 field is wholly neglected. It presents no other proof 
 of the fact that it was the scene of one of the decisive 
 battles of the Indian wars, except the disturbed face 
 of the ground where the rifle-pits were dug, and a 
 yawning trench, some thirty feet long and six feet 
 wide, where the fallen soldiers were hastily buried, 
 but which now is vacant, the bodies having been re- 
 moved and reinterred at Fort Assinniboine. The pits 
 and the trench are being obliterated by the efl^orts of 
 nature to cover with a veil of sward these souvenirs 
 of the bloody past on the frontier. In a few years the 
 roller of time will have utterly removed even these 
 evidences of the past, and this notable field, with its 
 [ 370 ] 
 
RETREAT OF JOSEPH AND NEZ PERCES 
 
 mute testimony to the bravery of the men who made 
 easy the way of the pioneer of civilization, and to the 
 skill and courage of the red men in defending them- 
 selves against the inevitable, will be as other scenes 
 of agricultural peace and prosperity. It seemed to 
 me that the great nation, which had found the means 
 to inspire the men of General Miles's command with 
 the heroism which was displayed in the conquering of 
 Joseph, might well be at the cost of erecting some 
 enduring acknowledgment of the fact that here was 
 fought one of the bloodiest and most desperate of 
 those many fights by means of which the land of the 
 red man was made the possible habitation of the pale- 
 face, who is now established in his inheritance. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE UNWHIPPED UTES 
 
 How the White River Utes left the Uintah Reservation, Utah, and 
 defied the State of Wyoming and the Federal Authorities — The EfiFect 
 of Diplomacy. 
 
 WHILE my function as an official of the gov- 
 ernment dealing with Indians has had to 
 do with diplomacy rather than with force, 
 I am free to admit that sternly repressive methods have 
 generally been effectual in teaching the Indian that 
 he must behave himself. For, child as he is, the In- 
 dian has an appreciative sense of justice when it is 
 administered without weakness on the one hand or 
 a show of ill-temper on the other. His sense of meum 
 and tuum is not as sharply defined as it might be, in 
 all cases ; but, since he has come to an appreciation of 
 the fact that the white man is his superior in strength 
 and intelligence, he has held himself in restraint to a 
 degree not to be understood by men who knew the red 
 man of a generation ago. 
 
 All of which is preliminary to the statement of my 
 opinion that the Indians who have not felt the heavy 
 hand of retribution for crimes against the whites have 
 escaped a very essential part of their training in civili- 
 zation. I say it with no bitterness toward the people 
 themselves, but I feel certain that if the Utes had been 
 thoroughly chastised after the Meeker massacre in 
 1879, they would not be the irresponsible, shiftless, 
 and defiant people they are to-day. They had citizen- 
 [ 372 ] 
 
THE UNWHIPPED UTES 
 
 ship thrust upon them without any knowledge of its 
 responsibilities. They escaped retributive justice at 
 a period of their tribal existence when the sense of 
 their ill-doings was strong upon them, and they are the 
 worse for it. Among my aboriginal friends, I have 
 found that those who were taught to respect the whites 
 on the field of battle have been most amenable to the 
 white man's reasoning when he reasoned for their 
 good according to the lights of latter days. 
 
 What will very likely prove to be the last serious 
 defiance of the laws which the white man has imposed 
 upon the Indian for his own good and for the peace and 
 comfort of his neighbors, engaged the attention of the 
 government in a most exasperating, though practi- 
 cally bloodless, campaign in pursuit of a band of Utes 
 in the fall of 1906. For many weeks the settlers of a 
 part of Wyoming were kept in a state of alarm that 
 sometimes approached the panic stage by this little 
 body of Indians, numbering not more than four hun- 
 dred, of whom but a fraction were male adults. It 
 would not be fair to say that the Indians were more 
 than unruly, nor would it state the case to say that 
 the state of Wyoming was terrorized ; but the Indians 
 were roaming through a section that was compara- 
 tively sparsely settled, and their attitude caused great 
 concern among the isolated ranchmen, through whose 
 country they progressed with an utter disregard of 
 the fact that they were generally trespassing upon the 
 property of others. They might have been checked 
 by the state authorities, — there is no doubt of that, 
 — but there was evidently some doubt in the minds 
 of the local officials as to how the wanderers should 
 be treated, — as marauding Indians or as citizens of 
 [ 373 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 the United States and amenable to the laws of the 
 commonwealth. 
 
 They were Utes, largely White Rivers, and they had 
 been practically enfranchised by having lands al- 
 lotted to them in severalty from which they had come 
 to understand the privileges of citizenship. They were 
 in fact uncivilized Indians, generally, and they had 
 never felt the strong hand of the power that should 
 have corrected the misdoings of some of their people, 
 particularly in the Meeker affair. They had become 
 dissatisfied with their situation on the Uintah reser- 
 vation in Utah, and simply had gone out as their an- 
 cestors had been wont to do for untold centuries, to 
 live as they liked and where they pleased. Distant hills 
 are likely to look very green to the Indian until he has 
 tested their hospitality, and these Utes were looking 
 for hunting-grounds and green pastures. They had 
 never been reconciled to their home in Utah, and their 
 unrest had by no means been soothed by the processes 
 of civilization which had resolved them into citizens 
 and given them allotments. They were unwhipped, 
 rather intractable, and disposed to remain uncon- 
 scious of responsibilities that appertained to their sov- 
 ereign rights as citizens. If they had any fixed idea of 
 a destination when they left their reservation, it was 
 probably Pine Ridge agency. South Dakota. 
 
 My experience is that most Indians are impressed 
 by the idea that their fellows at other agencies or re- 
 servations are much better off than they themselves 
 are; and, in spite of their supposed taciturnity, they 
 are, as a people, much given to sociable visiting. It 
 is possible that some of the older men among the 
 wanderers, with remembrance of the Big Horn Moun- 
 [ 374 ] 
 
THE UNWHIPPED UTES 
 
 tains, had an idea of living by the chase in that coun- 
 try. Whatever their original intention, they were wan- 
 dering about over the grazing lands of the Wyoming 
 ranchmen and offering a constant menace to the peace 
 of mind of the settlers, though they committed no 
 actual depredations. They were living off of their own 
 stock and the game they could kill — for they were 
 not at all restrained by the game laws of the state 
 of Wyoming. They were sullen, too, and the people of 
 the country were alarmed because of the possibility 
 that the Utes might throw off all restraint and indulge 
 their worst passions. 
 
 By legislative proceedings, compelled by reasons of 
 state policy or local conditions, the Utes had been 
 made the beneficiaries of an allotment to which they 
 were not treaty parties. Most of them had not gone 
 far enough on the road to civilization to have an ade- 
 quate knowledge of the fact that the government was 
 proceeding in their ultimate interest in giving them 
 lands in severalty. When the allotment was imposed 
 on them by congressional action they were very largely 
 disposed to disregard it, and it had been my duty to 
 confer with them and bring them to a sense of what 
 would be good for them under the circumstances. 
 These diplomatic advances they had not always re- 
 ceived in the best spirit, and it had been found prac- 
 tically impossible to get a proper proportion of them 
 to signify their acceptance of the terms of the allot- 
 ment. The amount of land allotted to each of the In- 
 dians had been cut down to an extent that they would 
 have resented if they had not, in spirit at least, re- 
 jected the entire proceeding. They were unwhipped 
 and indisposed to take on the life of the white man 
 [375] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 in a country that was not promising for agriculture 
 or cattle-raising, naturally, but which was rich in 
 potentialities when it could be brought under irriga- 
 tion. 
 
 My relations with them had been satisfactory per- 
 sonally — at least as satisfactory as the relations of 
 any white official appealing to them against their pre- 
 judices could be; and when they left the reservation 
 in midsummer, 1906, and went off looking for greener 
 pastures, it was to be expected that I would be drawn 
 into the case for the purpose of showing them the error 
 of their ways — if the white settlers did not take the 
 matter into their own hands and chastise them. And 
 if the later settlers of the country that the Utes invaded 
 with such beautiful disregard of changed conditions 
 had been of the same sort as the original settlers in 
 that country ; if they had been as ready to defend their 
 rights with the strong hand as were the men who knew 
 and had dealt with some of these Indians thirty years 
 ago, there would have been little left for Indian diplo- 
 macy. Under the circumstances, it was a case to be 
 handled with some delicacy. 
 
 The first official information the Washington author- 
 ities had of the state of affairs — except an intima- 
 tion from Indian Agent Hall that the White Rivers 
 had left the reservation — was in the form of an invi- 
 tation from the governor of Wyoming to call off their 
 Indians. This looked simple enough to the governor 
 and the people of that state. But the suggestion — 
 which would no doubt have had the immediate effect 
 of sending troops after the marauders had the Utes 
 been agency Indians — put a perplexing problem up 
 to the department. The wanderers were, in effect, 
 [376] 
 
THE UNWHIPPED UTES 
 
 citizens of the United States; they were engaged in 
 no offense against the laws of the United States. They 
 undoubtedly were trespassers in the state of Wyo- 
 ming, and the obvious thing to do with them was to 
 deal with them as other offenders under the state laws 
 would be dealt with, arrest and punish them. This 
 latter proposition was plain enough as a matter of 
 law, but rather different in practice. Here were four 
 hundred Indians, armed for hunting and possibly 
 for something more than that. The civil and mili- 
 tary forces of Wyoming could undoubtedly treat with 
 the red people, but, it was evident, only at a very con- 
 siderable cost in bloodshed. Besides, there was the 
 question of what to do with them if they were captured. 
 Wyoming did not want the job of keeping, in what 
 would be royal style for a starving Indian, a whole 
 band of starving Indians. On the other hand, the 
 federal authorities, having set the Utes up as citizens, 
 had some doubts about the federal right to interfere 
 with those citizens. In the long run the problem was 
 settled in a common-sense way, though there was not 
 any very nice adjustment made of the responsibility of 
 the Indian, the state, and the national government. 
 
 I was in Washington on official business in the month 
 of September, 1906, when the question how to deal 
 with these wanderers came to a point where it must 
 be disposed of. An urgent communication from the 
 governor of Wyoming to the Indian Department 
 brought matters to a head, and I received my orders 
 from Acting Secretary of the Interior, Honorable 
 Thomas Ryan, in the following terms, which I quote 
 as indicating the broad range of the commission com- 
 mitted to me. 
 
 [377 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 "Department of the Interior, 
 ** United States Indian Service, 
 " Washington, September 21, 1906. 
 
 "James McLaughlin, Esq., 
 
 "United States Indian Inspector, 
 "Washington, D. C. 
 "Sir: — 
 
 "Upon receipt of this letter you will proceed at 
 once to Casper, Wyoming, thence to such other points 
 in Wyoming where the Uintah Ute Indians absent 
 from their reservation may be found, and use every 
 endeavor to induce them to return quietly to their 
 reservation. Promptly report by wire the result of 
 your negotiations, with such recommendations as you 
 may think advisable, and wait further instructions. 
 "Very respectfully, 
 
 (Sd.) "Thos. Ryan, 
 "Acting Secretary." 
 
 That the department was much concerned in the 
 matter is shown in an oflScial communication to the 
 President of the same date, which I append, and which 
 shows, in brief, the importance of the problem and the 
 attitude of the Acting Secretary : — 
 
 "Department of the Interior, 
 " United States Indian Service, 
 " Washington, September 21, 1906. 
 
 " The President : — 
 
 "I submit herewith a copy of a telegram from 
 the Governor of Wyoming, dated August 25, 1906, 
 stating that some three hundred Ute Indians were 
 then camped along the Piatt River in that state, and 
 that he feared serious trouble unless this Department 
 would escort them out of Wyoming; also copy of a 
 r 378 1 
 
THE UNWHIPPED UTES 
 
 report of August 27, 1906, from the Commissioner 
 of Indian Affairs, setting forth the efforts made by 
 the United States Indian Agent in charge of the 
 Uintah Utes to induce the Indians complained of to 
 return to their homes, and stating that, these Indians 
 being citizens of the United States, the case was one 
 for local authorities rather than for this Department ; 
 also copy of a letter transmitting this report of the 
 Commissioner to the Governor of Wyoming; also 
 copy of a communication from the Governor of Wyo- 
 ming under date of the 17th instant, setting forth the 
 serious aspect of the matter, and stating that neither 
 the county nor the state authorities are able to cope 
 with the situation, and urging the necessity of some 
 prompt and appropriate action by this Department. 
 
 " These Indians having received allotments of lands 
 under the Act of February 8, 1887 (24 Statutes, 388), 
 are citizens of the United States. It is a matter of 
 legal interpretation whether the Act approved May 
 8, 1906, amending the Act of 1887, so that citizen- 
 ship is deferred until the issuance of final patents on 
 the allotments, can be held to affect the status of these 
 Indians given them prior to the passage of this said 
 amendatory Act. 
 
 "This Department is powerless in the premises, 
 and entertains considerable doubt whether the troops 
 of the United States may, as suggested by the Gover- 
 nor of Wyoming, be used to arrest these Indians and 
 return them to their homes in Utah. It is feared, how- 
 ever, that action along this line is the only course that 
 will avoid conflicts between the Indians and the resi- 
 dents of Wyoming, resulting in bloodshed in the near 
 future. 
 
 [ 379 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 "I have just concluded a conference on this subject 
 with Acting Commissioner of Indian Affairs Larrabee 
 and Inspector McLaughlin, with result that I have 
 ordered the latter to proceed immediately to the camp 
 of these Indians in Wyoming and persuade them, if 
 possible, to return to their homes. McLaughlin knows 
 these Indians well and has heretofore been remark- 
 ably successful in negotiating with them relative to 
 matters of interest to the Government, to which he 
 found them at first stubbornly opposed. I have much 
 confidence that McLaughlin will be successful. In 
 view, however, of his possible failure, I would respect- 
 fully suggest that the matter be submitted to the At- 
 torney General, for his opinion whether troops of the 
 United States may be used to arrest and return these 
 Ute Indians to their homes, and, if in his opinion it 
 may be done, a suflScient force be detailed to accom- 
 plish the purpose should it become necessary. 
 
 "I have replied by wire to Governor Brooks' letter 
 of the 17th instant, as follows : — 
 
 "'Your letter seventeenth relative to Ute Indians 
 received. As result of conference with Acting Com- 
 missioner of Indian Affairs, Inspector McLaughlin 
 has been ordered to proceed at once to Casper to con- 
 fer with these Indians in the hope that he may be able 
 to persuade them to return to their homes without the 
 use of troops. Meantime the Department will to-day 
 communicate all the facts to the President and recom- 
 mend that troops be used if Inspector McLaughlin 
 fails in his mission, if that can be done lawfully.' 
 "Very respectfully, 
 
 (Sgd.) "Thos. Ryan, 
 
 "Acting Secretary," 
 [ 380 J 
 
THE UNWHIPPED UTES 
 
 I have found that it has been generally so very neces- 
 sary to give the Indians plenty of time for considera- 
 tion, that no time must be lost in getting the subject 
 they are to consider before them, and I was at Cas- 
 per, and, supposedly, within striking distance of the 
 trail of the wanderers, on the 25th of September. I 
 was there joined by a young White River Ute Indian, 
 Henry Johnson, of the Uintah agency, eighteen years 
 of age, as interpreter, and upon inquiry learned that 
 the Indians had left Casper several days prior to our 
 arrival, and when last heard of were on Sage Creek, 
 about thirty-five miles northeast. 
 
 In order to get within shorter driving distance of 
 the people, I returned east to Douglas, Wyoming, and 
 started out by livery conveyance with the interpreter 
 and a person named Tracy, who was said to have 
 sufiicient knowledge of the country to be an eflScient 
 guide. I have hitherto fallen into the hands of 
 guides whose sole stock in trade was a reputation for 
 knowing the uncharted prairie, but this particular 
 guide was a little bit less informed about the coun- 
 try than I myself was — and I had not been in it 
 before. 
 
 There was no trail of the Indians, and it became a 
 case of using my sense of what a wandering band 
 might do under given circumstances — when the cir- 
 cumstances were something in the dark. I found 
 a sheep-herder's camp on Box Creek, twenty-eight 
 miles north of Douglas, and, though I got no better 
 acquainted with the possible abiding-place of the 
 Utes, I put my guide into dry dock there and struck 
 out for Dry Creek, thence over to the Dry Fork of the 
 Cheyenne, and finally back to Douglas, after a trip of 
 [381] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 over one hundred miles, during which I neither saw 
 nor heard anything of my red friends. 
 
 Upon returning to Douglas I picked up a rumor that 
 the Indians were in the neighborhood of Fiddleback 
 Ranch, seventy miles or so northeast of Douglas, and 
 that they were thought to be heading for the Black 
 Hills or the Pine Ridge agency. On this information 
 I acted, and proceeded by train, by way of Crawford, 
 Nebraska, to Edgemont, South Dakota, but found 
 nothing like a certain trail. Acting still on the rumor 
 I had heard, I proceeded to Newcastle, Wyoming, 
 and there got some corroboration of the report of their 
 being at the Fiddleback Ranch. 
 
 October 2, I set out from Newcastle with a driver 
 named C. D. Johnson, who was also a deputy game- 
 warden — and it was the game laws of Wyoming that 
 were more in danger than any of the other state enact- 
 ments up to that time, from the Utes. At Fiddleback 
 Ranch, I found the rumor of the presence of the 
 Indians to have been well founded, but they had left 
 there, traveling in a northwesterly direction, five days 
 previous to my arrival. That night I arrived at Half 
 Circle Bar Ranch after sundown, having traveled 
 ninety miles in the two days since leaving Newcastle, 
 and found plenty of signs of Indians in the vicinity, 
 but could learn nothing definite as to where they then 
 were. We remained over night at the Half Circle Bar 
 Ranch, and left at daylight the following morning, 
 traveling north until we struck the trail of the band 
 about ten o'clock a. m., and followed it until about 
 two o'clock that afternoon, when I found them in 
 camp at a small lake at the head of Black Thunder 
 Creek. 
 
 [ 382 ] 
 
THE UNWHIPPED UTES 
 
 They were a sullen lot, though the few I saw of 
 them then treated me courteously enough. What I 
 did not like was the fact that they wanted to avoid 
 meeting me, saying that many of their young men 
 were off hunting and looking for ponies that had 
 strayed. I had met many of them twice before, and 
 they were not personally offensive. They simply de- 
 clined to go into council, offering the absence of their 
 people as an excuse. They gave no evidence of offer- 
 ing any sort of hospitality — and under the circum- 
 stances it would not have been wise to suggest it. 
 There was nothing for it but to urge our tired horses 
 to the trail again, and I found a welcome and cheerful 
 greeting and treatment from W. M. Baird and his 
 wife, at "21" Ranch, about ten miles down Black 
 Thunder Creek from the Indian camp, and the only 
 habitation within twenty miles. 
 
 I was compelled to admire the courage and good 
 sense of Mr. and Mrs. Baird in staying by their prop- 
 erty. Had they fled, they would possibly have suffered 
 in their property at least. Securing from the ranchman 
 a fresh team, I returned to the Indian camp the fol- 
 lowing morning and experienced one of those days of 
 which I have had a few in my life, when I felt my 
 personal knowledge of and acquaintance with the In- 
 dian might not be of much avail if they were pressed 
 too far, or if the war-spirit was strong in the young 
 men. 
 
 I got them assembled in council, but it was hope- 
 less from the first. They stood about, their very atti- 
 tude proclaiming their indifference to any argument I 
 might have to offer. When you can get an Indian to 
 argue, it is possible to convince him, but he is very 
 [ 383 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 like his white brother when he puts his back up and 
 will not talk. When I had made my proposals the 
 three leaders of the Utes, Soccioff, Red Cap, and 
 Appah, made speeches in the order named, in which 
 they derided the government and its invitation to 
 return to their reservation. In reciting the reasons 
 why they would not return, they naturally indulged in 
 that Indian eloquence which has so often gone far to 
 undo the argument of the white man. They sought to 
 inflame their people with desire for the freedom they 
 were then enjoying. They said that their reservation 
 had been opened to the whites, and that the govern- 
 ment was quite free to give their allotments to whites 
 as the rest of the reservation had been given to them. 
 As for the speakers and their people, they did not be- 
 long to the government and would have nothing to do 
 with it ; Washington people had no claim on them and 
 they had nothing to ask for. 
 
 Each one closed with the declaration that he would 
 die rather than return to Utah, and Soccioff was inde- 
 pendent and defiant to. the point of more than hint- 
 ing at his willingness to make trouble. The council 
 closed without any advantage to the government, ex- 
 cept that I had been able to convey to the wavering 
 ones an idea of the long, hard winter that was before 
 them if they stayed out, and the certainty that the 
 government would do nothing for them while they 
 were recalcitrant. 
 
 When the council was over, I concluded to proceed 
 in my own way — for I have generally found it better 
 to work with the Indian as an individual than when 
 he is before his people. It was taking a chance, of 
 course, and there was always a prospect that I would 
 [ 384 ] 
 
THE UNWHIPPED UTES 
 
 be ordered out of camp or get shot in my back from 
 the gun of some truculent young man. I was handi- 
 capped by a want of knowledge of the Ute language — 
 my interpreter being a mere boy and being scared to 
 a point where he was worse than useless. Some of the 
 men spoke a little Sioux, and in this tongue, the sign- 
 language, and pigeon-English I brought around that 
 afternoon and the following day sixty-one individuals 
 to my way of thinking, and got them out of the main 
 camp as soon as possible after volunteering to return 
 to their home reservation. 
 
 As the men indicated their willingness to return 
 with me to the reservation, I moved them and their 
 belongings about ten miles down the Black Thunder 
 Creek, where they would be removed from the influ- 
 ence of the main party ; but when I had gotten to the 
 end of my persuasive powers and rounded them up 
 for the start for Newcastle, on the morning of October 
 7, fifteen had vanished during the night and I was 
 compelled to remain content. And though I brought 
 off only about one eighth of the entire party, it was 
 an achievement to which I look back with some pride 
 as being the most effective demonstration of the pos- 
 sibilities of Indian diplomacy that I have been able to 
 exercise — under such forbidding circumstances. 
 
 The forty-six were transported to the Uintah reser- 
 vation, where they remain and have entered into the 
 spirit of the new conditions. The federal authorities 
 were eventually moved to put a stop to the wanderings 
 of the rest of the band. 
 
 From what I knew of their sullenness together with 
 their attitude toward officials of the government, also 
 of their being well armed and their evident determina- 
 [ 385 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 tion to fight to the last man rather than return to Uin- 
 tah, I was fearful of results should anly a small de- 
 tachment of troops be sent after them, and therefore 
 suggested that a force suflSciently strong numerically 
 to overawe them be sent, if at all, and was pleased to 
 learn that eight troops of the Tenth Cavalry and eight 
 of the Sixth Cavalry had started out to put a stop 
 to their wanderings. The Indians were overtaken by 
 the troops on the Powder River in Montana, just 
 across the Wyoming line, where, after several days of 
 uncertain waiting as to the outcome, and through the 
 skillful diplomacy of Captain Carter P. Johnson, 
 U. S. A., then of the Tenth Cavalry, now of the Second 
 Cavalry, the Indians were induced to go to Fort 
 Meade, South Dakota, for the winter, with the express 
 understanding, however, that a delegation of their 
 leading men be taken to Washington to make known 
 their grievances. This compact was faithfully carried 
 out, and the delegation selected by the Indians visited 
 the seat of government during the month of January, 
 1907, accompanied by Captain Johnson. 
 
 In the conference held with this delegation at Wash- 
 ington, the Indians declined to entertain any pro- 
 position for their return to Uintah ; and it being fully 
 believed by the oflScers of the command operating 
 against them that they would fight sooner than return 
 thereto, it was humanely determined that they be sent 
 temporarily to the Cheyenne River reservation. South 
 Dakota, which they consented to and where they re- 
 mained about a year. 
 
 I visited them at their camp on the Moreau River, 
 in the western part of the Cheyenne River reservation, 
 during the month of August, 1907, and found them 
 [ 386 ] 
 
THE UNWHIPPED UTES 
 
 less sullen but dissatisfied. In the autumn of 1907, 
 the entire Sixth Regiment of cavalry was sent out to 
 their camp to quell a disturbance growing out of their 
 refusal to place their children in school, and after re- 
 maining about a year on the Cheyenne River reser- 
 vation, South Dakota, they were prevailed upon to 
 return to their home reservation at White Rocks, 
 Utah, where they now are, but doubtless still discon- 
 tented. 
 As I said before, they are unwhipped Indians. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 GIVE THE RED MAN HIS PORTION 
 
 THE Treasury of the United States holds some- 
 thing like thirty-six million dollars in funds be- 
 longing to the Indians. {The fund, as it stands, 
 might be described as an endowment for the creation 
 of paupers and the perpetuation of the present state 
 of dependence among the people to whose credit it 
 stands^; In addition to this fund, the government 
 holds for the Indians a vast amount in landed pro- 
 perty, the title to a great deal of which property will 
 pass to the Indian in twenty-five years after he ac- 
 cepts an allotment. The issuance of the patent in 
 fee may be expedited by any Indian who thinks well 
 enough of his heirs to betake himself to the happy 
 hunting-grounds; for in that event, the land may be 
 sold for the benefit of the decedent's family. It is quite 
 impossible to value the land even approximately, but 
 it is worth many millions of dollars. ' And, resting as 
 he does under the weight of this burden of w ealth, get- 
 ting enough of it from time to time to keep the life in 
 his body and prevent him from exerting himself to any 
 great extent on his own behalf, the American Indian 
 is fated to die in a state of unthrift and indigence, a 
 sort of half-starved ward in chancery. It appears to me 
 that it is the duty of the government to make some 
 provision presently for the emancipation of these un- 
 happy victims, to deliver them from the evils that guar- 
 antee a future of ungentle paupery, by giving to the 
 [ 38S ] 
 
GIVE THE RED MAN HIS PORTION 
 
 Indian his portion and turning him adrift to work out 
 his own salvation. 
 
 The Indian and his condition is not so important 
 a matter to the majority of the people of the United 
 States as the smashing of the trusts and the reforma- 
 tion of the "system"; but no question that affects the 
 moral and physical salvation of over a quarter of a 
 million human beings living in this country, can be 
 lacking in importance to the rest of the people; and 
 this problem, in which is involved the future of the 
 Indian and the disposition of the wealth that a pater- 
 nal government has sequestered for his benefit, is of 
 imminent and practical interest to the people of the 
 west, in particular, and to all the people of the country, 
 in general. Moreover, the Indian problem is involved 
 in a condition created by and for the benefit of the 
 American people. Leaning as he does on a govern- 
 mental prop that is unstable, the Indian to-day calmly 
 asks : "What are you going to do about it .^ " And the 
 question must be answered, not by the bookmen, nor 
 by the missionary societies, but by the practical men 
 who are to-day engaged in giving to the adminis- 
 tration of governmental affairs the best thought and 
 the most practical intelligence ever placed at the dis- 
 posal of the people of the republic. 
 
 The solution of the Indian question is not contained 
 in the breech-loading rifle, as was fondly imagined by 
 the military economist of an earlier day. In the re- 
 formation of the imagination which gave birth to this 
 idea, much blood was spilled and much rich territory 
 wrested from the Indians, but I do not know that, 
 on the whole, the Indian was not better off when we 
 treated him as an enemy than he is now that we have 
 [ 389 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 an opportunity to practice on him the mistaken poli- 
 cies evolved by his quondam friends. In the sixties, 
 when the best of the Indians — the best raw material, 
 I mean — roamed the prairies of the west and inter- 
 posed a deadly objection to the white man who was 
 seeking to expand his sphere of influence, the policy 
 of the white man, jumping with his interest, was for 
 the application of force in the removal of that obsta- 
 cle. 1 do not know that any other policy would have 
 been equally effective in the removal of the Indian 
 stumbling-block to the white man's car of progress. 
 I do know that much bad blood was engendered and 
 many valuable lives sacrificed, and that these lives 
 might have been saved if the Indian had been treated 
 with honesty, and the rights he was ready to maintain 
 with the brand and tomahawk made the subject of 
 honest bargaining. But it became the proper thing to 
 dally with the savage Indian by misjudging his fight- 
 ing capacity, sending insufficient forces against him, 
 in the fatuous idea that he might be cowed by a show 
 of military pomp, then fighting him in force and sub- 
 duing him to the point of making him glad to accept 
 a treaty. The treaty being made, white men broke 
 it. The white men broke all the treaties. General 
 Sherman, who did not love the Indian overmuch, de- 
 clared that all the Indian wars were chargeable to the 
 white men and their bad faith. Other men — not the 
 faddists who exploit the Indian for advertising pur- 
 poses — agreed with Sherman, and I know nothing 
 to support a contention that the Indian was treacher- 
 ous, and capable of breaking faith w hen he had made 
 a fair engagement. For many years the Indian had 
 been treated as an enemy, or tolerated under condi- 
 [ 390 ] 
 
\ \ 
 
 GIVE THE RED MAN HIS PORTION 
 
 tions degrading to the individual and disgraceful to 
 the people responsible, until, in his first inaugural, 
 General Grant proclaimed the peace policy of deal- 
 ing with the aboriginal peoples. 
 
 Unfortunately, the country was not ready for the 
 application of the peace policy. The Indians held, 
 under the then newly made treaties, much valuable 
 territory that the white man needed. For instance, a 
 treaty made with the trans-Missouri Sioux in 1868 
 gave those people the territory included in what was 
 known as the Great Sioux reservation. In this treaty 
 were included the adjacent lands, held under the 
 agreement to be ceded lands, but free to the Indian 
 for purposes of the chase. Almost immediately after 
 the making of the treaty, gold was discovered in 
 the Black Hills and white men invaded the Indian 
 territory. There is no reason for believing that the 
 Indians would not have been glad to treat for the 
 cession of the hills for a proper remuneration, — a 
 trifling remuneration, considering their value. But 
 the whites took with the strong arm what they had 
 solemnly covenanted to the Indians. This action was 
 totally and utterly unjustifiable, and wars undertaken 
 with a view to driving the Sioux out of the territory 
 that had been so positively assigned them, were as 
 savagely wrongful as any of the Indian depredations. 
 The climax of these wars in 1876, when Custer and 
 his men were killed in battle, — the Little Big Horn 
 affair was not a massacre, — brought about the mak- 
 ing of a further treaty, by which the Sioux gave up 
 their rights in the Black Hills, for literally a mess of 
 pottage, the consideration being chiefly subsistence. 
 Thirteen years later, their reservation was again cut 
 [391 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 down, but this time there was a fair adjustment of 
 the property rights of the Indians, and the way was 
 opened to the ultimate enfranchisement of the people. 
 I cite these things to show, by the example of the Sioux, 
 that the whites have forced upon the Indians the con- 
 ditions under which they now exist. I do not justify 
 the Indian for his depredations in the long ago, and 
 it is rather late to try the white men who seized the 
 Indian's lands, — bound to him by treaty, — but it is 
 worth while showing that the Indian did not elect to 
 become the pauper he is, that he was passive in the 
 making of treaties which have resulted in giving him 
 an inheritance that serves to delude him with the 
 prospect of future wealth and the certainty of a pre- 
 sent sufficiency, so far as his absolute needs are con- 
 cerned. 
 
 Thirty years ago, practically, the Indian ceased to 
 be part of a warlike institution to be coped with by 
 force, and has been made the object of a great deal 
 of experiment, within certain limitations, though the 
 limitations have been changed frequently, to conform 
 to the requirements of the time and the ideas of the 
 experimentalists. During this period the Indian has 
 run the gauntlet of those evils that beset the path of 
 the individual of simple and direct mind, suddenly 
 constrained to a new order of things, physical, men- 
 tal, and moral. Thirty years ago the great body of 
 the Indians who had found strength to stand up 
 against the white man long after their less enduring 
 relatives in the older settlements had succumbed, were 
 practically savages standing at the threshold of civili- 
 zation. I am frank to say that the same body of In- 
 dians to-day, measured by the standards of civiliza- 
 [ 392 ] 
 
GIVE THE RED MAN HIS PORTION 
 
 tion, are not as desirable a class of people as they 
 were when they were put into the way of becoming 
 as the white man. They have degenerated physically, 
 and I am not sure that they have advanced intellect- 
 ually, for the standards of intellect have changed 
 with them, or been changed for them. 
 
 As for the reasons for their degeneration: in his 
 primitive state the Indian was a nomad, ranging over 
 a wide tract of country, living by the chase altogether, 
 except in a few isolated cases, taking a great deal of 
 physical exercise incidental to his avocation as a 
 hunter, living in the open air, eating flesh, and cloth- 
 ing himself according to his means and the season. 
 The children were inured to what the white man w^ould 
 consider killing hardships ; the w^omen worked as hard 
 as the men. The Indian in his native state never knew 
 comfort in the winter, according to our notion. But 
 he remained healthy and survived comparative hard- 
 ship, because it w^as his natural condition. His wants 
 were as simple as his physical and mental organiza- 
 tion. He lived for the day and was content. 
 
 We took away from him his hunting-grounds and 
 put him on a reservation. This reservation was gen- 
 erally located in a country unavailable for the use of 
 the white man of the early day. It was not poor land, 
 except by comparison with the richer territory sur- 
 rounding it, and it was held to be good enough for the 
 Indian. Contract hunters working for corporations, 
 independent of Indian interference, killed the buffalo, 
 — one of the crimes of the last generation, — and the 
 Indian sat down on his reservation after he had killed 
 the last edible animal within its boundaries, and waited 
 for the government to metamorphose him into a white 
 [ 393 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 man. By way of curing him of his nomadic habits, 
 he was given a fixed habitation and coerced into liv- 
 ing in a house built by his own hands. The day the 
 Indian moved out of his airy tepee into the closed-up 
 house in which no provision was made for ventilation 
 of any sort, he reduced his chance of surviving by a 
 considerable percentage. When he was compelled 
 to change his diet to conform to that of the whites, 
 to eat food improperly cooked by women who knew 
 nothing of cookery, giving up his substantial meat 
 food and living on materials for which he was unfitted 
 by a thousand years of training, he further lowered 
 his chances of sustaining life. The Indian was igno- 
 rant of the laws of sanitation, but when he lived in 
 the open, he provided against bad sanitary conditions 
 instinctively; he moved his camp so often that the 
 matter of sanitation never had to be considered. In 
 his new house, he lived amidst filth because he was 
 ignorant that it was filth. He never had a cold and 
 his lungs were sound, in the old days. When he moved 
 into a house from which all fresh air was excluded, he 
 wore the same clothing indoors as in the open — as he 
 had always been used to do. He became the prey of 
 colds and fevers; bad sanitary conditions brought 
 their train of disorders, and his blood was impover- 
 ished, because he was badly nourished by his new 
 diet. 
 
 Under the circumstances, it is not to be wondered 
 at that he died — the wonder is that any of the In- 
 dians, compelled to the changed way of living, sur- 
 vived. Impoverished blood brought on scrofula. It 
 is altogether a mistake to charge the prevalence of 
 this evil to the vices of the Indian. It has been a 
 [ 394 ] 
 
GIVE THE RED MAN HIS PORTION 
 
 dreadful scourge, and the most distressing sign of the 
 reservation Indian to-day is the vast number of in- 
 dividuals who show, in their scarred necks, the im- 
 prints of this awful disease, which invariably attacks, 
 among these people, the glands of the neck. Pulmo- 
 nary disorders followed close on colds that were not 
 treated at all, and tuberculosis in its varied forms be- 
 set the wretched people. They were quite hopeless 
 in the presence of epidemic disorders. 
 
 With all these unknown and unnamed ills beating 
 them into the earth, the Indians sat, supine, waiting 
 for the coming of that day in which they would live 
 and thrive as the white man lived and throve. They 
 had been told that they would be as white men if they 
 obeyed the agents of the Great Father. They had not 
 much instinctive disposition to exertion. Manual 
 labor had never entered into the Indian's scheme of 
 existence, and the example of the white man did not 
 impress him much. He came to know that just before 
 he reached the fatal point in the process of starvation, 
 the government would come to his rescue, and, if he 
 was not content, he was passive under conditions he 
 could neither understand nor cope with. His children 
 died of disorders he had never heard of, and his 
 parents died in the long winter nights. He was a 
 probationer in the school of civilization, and he was 
 having a hard time of it. He was by turns browbeaten 
 and cajoled, bribed and punished, threatened and 
 rewarded, and all of the worst elements in his char- 
 acter developed for want of firm, consistent, and hon- 
 est treatment. Gradually the cunning that had been 
 his in woodcraft and fighting changed in form, and 
 he came to know that he could, by the exercise of 
 [ 395 ] 
 
/ MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 cunning (^f another sort, get things from the white 
 man. His simplicity and directness of character gave 
 way to his needs, and he met bargain-hunting whites 
 as a bargainer. He made better terms for the cession 
 of his unproductive lands, and the government be- 
 came his banker for the enormous amount of wealth 
 that is his curse to-day, — a veritable mine from which 
 he may take only enough to keep body and soul to- 
 gether while loafing between payments, a handicap 
 in the development of the country to which the gov- 
 ernment holds a trust-title for him. 
 
 In a recent official tour of duty, I spent a couple of 
 months among a band of Indians located in South 
 Dakota, who have been settled in their present loca- 
 tion for upward of thirty-five years. When the band 
 was first formally located, it consisted of about fifteen 
 hundred souls. For over twenty years the people lived 
 by their own resources. Occasionally it was neces- 
 sary to assist them, but they had no invested wealth, 
 no fund upon which to draw, no income from leased 
 lands. They had a bad time at first, there is no doubt 
 of that, but they survived it and I know that they had 
 become thrifty to a certain extent. They had no debts, 
 for they owned no capital and had no expectations. 
 There was a natural decrease in the numbers owing 
 to infant mortality and a high death-rate, the result 
 of changed conditions, but they grew in total strength, 
 by reason of accessions of their own people from other 
 parts of the country. They had become practically 
 self-supporting, living by their herds, by trapping, 
 and by the cultivation of small tracts of land. In 
 twenty years they had grown to their changed condi- 
 tion and the birth-rate equaled the death-rate. My 
 [ 396 ] 
 
GIVE THE RED MAN HIS PORTION 
 
 experience goes to show that this period , generally 
 carries them past the line of decrease and brings them 
 to where they hold their own against death and dis- 
 ease. 
 
 In the process of civilization, they had arrived at 
 a stage of their progress when, as a part of the usual 
 policy, they were given their lands in severalty. To 
 each individual was allotted one hundred and sixty 
 acres of land, the title to which was to be held in trust 
 by the government for twenty-five years and then 
 patented in fee to the allottee. The allotted lands 
 were to be free of taxes during the trust period. The 
 balance of the reservation was thrown open to settle- 
 ment and sale under the laws, and the moneys ob- 
 tained by the sale of these lands were to be held in 
 trust by the government, and five per cent per annum 
 interest to be paid. This plan, which is that generally 
 followed, had all the evidences of a beneficent and 
 well-digested scheme. It assured each Indian a farm 
 in a country that is fertile to a degree, where crops 
 fail but infrequently, and where the white man, who 
 has no expectations from government, makes a satis- 
 factory income for a family on a quarter section of 
 land. The land that was thrown open to settlement 
 was greedily seized upon, and there was at once accu- 
 mulated a large fund to the credit of the Indians. And 
 that fund was the undoing of them. 
 
 The interest on the fund has been devoted very 
 largely to the maintenance of a boarding-school for 
 Indians, and out of the capital fund, the Indians have 
 been paid substantial sums from time to time. Al- 
 together, in the fifteen years that have elapsed since 
 the first payment, the Indians have received about 
 [ 397 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 nine hundred dollars per capita in disbursements out 
 of the fund created by the sale of the lands taken by 
 settlers in the reservation. In addition to this, they 
 have received a considerable income in the form of 
 moneys from leased lands and from other sources. As 
 the families are comparatively large, the income of 
 each household has been quite suflBcient to keep the 
 people from want, and even to make them comfort- 
 able, if it was not for their expensive and improvident 
 habits. 
 
 The total of Indians on the reservation has increased 
 until they now number about nineteen hundred souls, 
 part of the recent increase being natural, the Indians 
 having passed the danger-mark attained by the lower- 
 ing of their physical condition. There has also been a 
 considerable gain through the increase in the number 
 of mixed marriages. Altogether this body of Indians 
 might be taken as fairly showing the result of the 
 policy of holding the Indian in wardship and making 
 him heir to wealth that is being gradually distributed. 
 
 And I have no hesitancy in saying that the condi- 
 tion of these Indians to-day is not as hopeful as it was 
 eighteen years ago, when they had no wealth in ex- 
 pectancy and no payments to depend on. Their ad- 
 vancement has been greatly retarded by the system 
 under which they live. They lack the manly quali- 
 ties that distinguished them generally fifteen or twenty 
 years ago; they have no self-dependence; they lean 
 upon the government or the agent in all their affairs ; 
 they are in debt. They squander the money that is 
 given them — I am speaking of the people generally, 
 for there are a few notable exceptions to this rule. The 
 younger people have little pride of ancestry and no 
 [ 398 ] 
 
GIVE THE RED MAN HIS PORTION 
 
 care for the future. The older people have neither 
 ambition nor hope — beyond the next payment. They 
 are utterly listless of the passing of time, except as 
 it brings a payment nearer, and are much given to 
 the cheaper amusements of the whites and the inane 
 dances of their ancestors. Fifteen years of annuity- 
 drawing has made of a people that was struggling 
 to the sjurface by personal effort, a set of paupers in 
 chancery.; I do not mean that they beg, for they do 
 not. They are rather purse-proud in the knowledge 
 that the government holds for them something like 
 seven hundred and eighty-five thousand dollars, but 
 they are just as certainly indigents to-day as though 
 they were kept in almshouses. Ten years more of 
 annuity-drawing and their case will be utterly hope- 
 less. They will be stripped of their farms, as soon as 
 they are patented, by their more thrifty neighbors. 
 Then, perhaps, they will go to work in order to eat. 
 They are Indians at heart, with some of the cheap 
 vices of the white man and all of the helplessness of 
 the naturally indigent; they have not advanced intel- 
 lectually along any line that will do them good; the 
 children and the younger people speak English, but 
 their shyness keeps them to thinking and talking 
 among themselves in Sioux, and' they would be better 
 off, so far as the future is concerned, if they stood as 
 blanketed Indians on the virgin prairieJ 
 
 I instance this band as a sample of what has been 
 accomplished by governmental administration of In- 
 dian funds. They prove incontrovertibly the demoral- 
 izing effect of the present system, and they stand as a 
 fair sample of people treated as they have been. 
 
 Fortunately, not all of the Indians have money in 
 [ 399 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 the treasury upon which to draw. I say " fortunately," 
 for the Indian who has nothing at all, either at present 
 or in expectancy, is much better off than these, and 
 infinitely better material upon which to work. These 
 people of whom I have been speaking are Sioux, and 
 nominally classed as being far in advance of their 
 relatives, the Teton Sioux of the trans-Missouri 
 country. As a matter of fact, the Indians of the 
 trans-Missouri reservations, who have practically no 
 income save that which is produced by leasing their 
 lands for grazing purposes, or what they earn by 
 labor, are infinitely better off than these civilized and 
 wealthy cousins of theirs. The Teton Sioux is better 
 physically and morally, and of stronger mentality, 
 than the annuitant. He has been compelled to exert 
 himself since he was driven out of his hunting-grounds, 
 and he has had rather better health than some of his 
 compeers, for that reason. He has passed through 
 the transitory stage involved in the change of his 
 manner of life, and he is recovering from the anaemic 
 condition to which he was reduced by the change from 
 the tepee to the log house, from fresh meat to cereal 
 foods. For seven years he has had no government 
 assistance, except for the maintenance of schools and 
 rations for the aged and indigent, and he is now 
 taking his land in severalty. The demoralization will 
 come if the present system obtains. And it is out- 
 rageous to contemplate the pauperization of a people 
 that gave birth to such men as John Grass and Gall. 
 There are not lacking examples showing that the 
 Indian can subsist himself in independence, when 
 freed from the hot-house forcing of civilized growth. 
 The Navajos, the most populous of the tribes with 
 [ 400 ] 
 
GIVE THE RED MAN HIS PORTION 
 
 the possible exception of the Sioux, numbering close 
 to twenty-five thousand, live at peace and in Indian 
 comfort — undisturbed because they inhabit a coun- 
 try totally unfit for the habitation of the white man — 
 in Arizona. They receive no government aid. They 
 are men, they live in the open air generally, and they 
 require very little clothing. They have not succumbed 
 to the missionaries, are generally pagans, and they 
 have very few scholars — according to the standards 
 of the schools. They live in a country that is rich in 
 nothing but the cactus and sand, and they live on their 
 herds and flocks, supplementing their income by the 
 manufacture of what are considered the finest blan- 
 kets in the world. I am very sanguine of the Navajo 
 working out his own salvation. He will be left alone, 
 for no man wants his land and the processes of civili- 
 zation will affect him gradually and by absorption. 
 
 Between the uncounted Navajo and the allotment 
 Indian of South Dakota, there is a very great dis- 
 tance, and the state of the people who dwell amidst 
 the two is generally more or less hopeful, according 
 to the condition of the tribes or bands when they en- 
 tered into the enjoyment of wealth. The Osages are 
 enormously wealthy, having a fund of above eight 
 million dollars with an annual income of more than 
 four hundred thousand dollars. I know of no sharper 
 commentary on the effect of wealth upon the Indian 
 than the fact stated in the 1904 report of the Commis- 
 sioner of Indian Affairs, showing that among this tribe 
 but ten persons were engaged in labor in civilized pur- 
 suits. 
 
 I would not argue that the economic and social 
 condition of the Indian is satisfactory in the inverse 
 [401 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 ratio to his wealth; but it appears certain to me that 
 the Indian who attained to the right to draw a dole 
 from the government before he had developed up to 
 the state of being able to get a living for himself, is 
 laboring under a serious handicap, and is at a stand- 
 still or retrograding. 
 
 I have no figures at hand showing the amount of 
 money held in trust in the treasury and belonging to 
 the Indians, later than October 31, 1906. The annual 
 report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs for 1906 
 showed the amount to be $36,352,950.85, drawing an 
 annual interest of $1,788,237.23. This may have been 
 slightly reduced, and it may have been increased, but 
 the sum now in trust is certainly in excess of thirty- 
 six million dollars. Upon this enormous total, the 
 government is paying interest at the rate of five per 
 cent, except in a few instances, in which the rate is 
 four per cent. Among the tribes and bands having the 
 largest interest in this fund, the Osages stand at the 
 head with $8,493,570.07 to their credit; other rich In- 
 dians are the united bands interested in the Apache, 
 Kiowa, and Comanche fund, $1,500,600.00 ; Cheyenne 
 and Arapahoe in Oklahoma, $1,000,000.00; Chero- 
 kee, $1,542,780.77; Creek, $2,472,930.95; Chickasaw, 
 $693,061.79; Chippewa, in Minnesota, $4,096,203.92; 
 Menominee of Wisconsin, $2,268,330.86 ; Sac and Fox 
 of the Mississippi, $1,252,054.41; Sac and Fox of 
 the Missouri, $100,400.00; Seminole, $2,070,000.00; 
 Sioux of the former Great Sioux reservation, $2,955,- 
 678.40 ; Sisseton-Wahpeton Sioux, $785,454.62 ; Yank- 
 ton Sioux, $480,008.00 ; Crow Creek Sioux, $89,454.73 ; 
 Ute, $1,750,000.00; Winnebago, $883,249.50; Oma- 
 ha, $373,136.52; Blackfeet, $275,909.50; Klamath, 
 [ 402 ] 
 
GIVE THE RED MAN HIS PORTION 
 
 $350,000.00; Otoe and Missouria, $505,147.53; Paw- 
 nee, $400,001.15; Pottawatomie, $414,158.77, and 
 Umatilla, $306,037.63; together with the respective 
 amounts of various other tribes, aggregating $1,386, 
 236.65. 
 
 ^ These immense holdings are being doled out to the 
 Indians by a pauperizing system in sums inadequate 
 to their needs, yet sufficient to give the annuitants the 
 sense of being provided for. I am not sure but that 
 the average white man, if assured of a sufficient in- 
 come to scratch along on, would not proceed to be- 
 come an Indian after his fashion. These people, who 
 are but a step removed from the simplicity of savagery 
 and have an instinctive dislike to any sort of exertion 
 in the form of labor, take very enthusiastically to a 
 system that permits them to live in Indian ease. 
 / This is the problem that confronts the white man : 
 How is the Indian to be saved from himself and his 
 riches } 
 
 To me the question admits of but one answer. Give 
 the people the money they have coming; give it to 
 them as soon as possible. \ So soon as the proper official 
 declares that an Indian is competent to administer his 
 own affairs, ; let that Indian have his portion of the 
 fund, also a patent in fee for his allotment, and let him 
 shift for himself. This procedure would relieve the 
 government of the care of these funds and build up 
 manhood and individual self-reliance, which can never 
 be realized under the present doling-out proces^ Do 
 away with the leading-strings and check-reins by 
 which the Indian is now so handicapped, and he will 
 immediately feel the necessity for demonstrating his 
 capacity to manage his own estate. By this means 
 [ 403 ] 
 
MY FRIEND THE INDIAN 
 
 only can the Indian be saved from chronic indigence 
 and ultimate and absolute paupery; and I am suflS- 
 ciently well acquainted with Indian nature to venture 
 the prophecy that a large majority of those under fifty 
 years of age will develop the capacity to hustle for 
 themselves exactly in the proportion that their needs 
 press them. Take away his annuity by letting him 
 handle the principal, and the Indian will be given a 
 start on the road to complete civilization and inde- 
 pendence, that will land him at the desired goalj in 
 nine ca«es out of ten. ^ 
 
INDEX 
 
INDEX 
 
 Abercrombie, Fort, 14. 
 
 Agard, Henry, 115, 246-248. 
 
 Agard, Mrs. Henry, and her coffin, 
 
 246-248. 
 Agencies, number of Indians at, greatly 
 
 increased between 1868 and 1871, 7. 
 Agents, Indian, functions and influence 
 
 of, 67. 
 Alden, E. H., 255, 256. 
 American Horse, 279, 307. 
 Apaches, 5, 265. 
 Appah, 384. 
 Appearing Day, beloved of Spotted 
 
 Tail, 71-73. 
 Applegate, Captain Jesse, 317, 330. 
 Applegate, Maj. Oliver C, 317, 330. 
 Arapahoes, 18, 130, 265, 296-299. 
 Arickarees, 24, 250. 
 Arrow V^oman, 241-244. 
 Arthur, Rev. Mark (Nez Perce), 365. 
 Assiniboines, 24. 
 Atkinson, Andy, 13. 
 Auger, General, 265. 
 
 Bacon, Lieutenant, 359. 
 
 "Bad men," in border towns, 18. 
 
 Baird, W. M., 383. 
 
 Baird, Mrs. W. M., 383. 
 
 Barber, M., Ass't Adjutant-Gen., 214. 
 
 "Bear Coat" (General Miles), 177. 
 
 Bear Face, 287, 288. 
 
 Bear Paw Mountains, scene of Chief 
 
 Joseph's last fight, 362 scqq., 367. 
 Bear's Cap, 150. 
 Bell, Gen. James M., 43. 
 Belt, R. v., Acting Comm'r of Indian 
 
 Affairs, 200, 201, 209, 211, 212. 
 Bent, William, 368. 
 Benteen, Captain, 118, 129, 130; at the 
 
 Little Big Horn, 143, 145, 155, 160; 
 I 360. 
 
 Berthold, Fort, 255, 257, 258. 
 Big Foot, 197, 213. 
 Big Head, misnamed, 233; 284, 285, 
 
 286, 288. 
 Big Hole Valley, 357, 358. 
 Big Road, 134, 152; misnamed, 234. 
 Big Stone Lake, 10. 
 Billy Squash. See Wamnuha. 
 Bismarck, No. Dakota, 14 
 Bison. See Buffalo. 
 Black Bird, 192, 197, 
 Black Bull, 115. 
 Black Hills, privilege of mining in, 
 
 cause of Indian War of 1876, 124; 
 
 government expedition to, in 1874, 
 
 124; 268, 269, 271. 
 Black Jim, 333, 343. 
 Black Moon, 134, 150. 
 Blackfeet, 26, 99, 107, 116 ; at the Little 
 
 Big Horn, 136, 138, 152; 266. 
 Bogus Charlie, 318, 332, 333, 342, 343. 
 Border towns on western frontier in 
 
 1871, 18. 
 Boston Charley, 333, 342, 343. 
 Bouyer, "Mitch," 128. 
 Boyle, Hugh, 303-306. 
 Brave Bear, murderer of the De 
 
 Lormes, 40-46, 49; escape of, 50; 
 
 further crimes of, 51 ; executed, 52. 
 Brook, General, 213. 
 Brown, Maj. Hugh G., 282. 
 Brown Elk, 57. 
 Brule Sioux, 25, 26, 99; at the Little 
 
 Big Horn, 136, 149, 152; 266; agree- 
 ment made with, by author, 307-309. 
 Buffalo, great herds of, in Devils Lake 
 
 agency, 9; migrations of, 10; hun- 
 
 [407 ] 
 
INDEX 
 
 dreds of, killed by Sioux hunting- 
 party, 97 seqq. 
 
 "Buffalo Bill." See Cody. 
 
 Buffalo hunt, ceremonial of, 102 seqq. 
 
 Buford, Fort, 14, 92, 182. 
 
 Bull Ghost, 203. 
 
 Bull Head, Indian policeman, 115, 204, 
 209, 215, 216; letter of author to, 
 217; proceeds to arrest Sitting Bull, 
 218-221; death of, 221; burial of, 
 with military honors, 222; 287. 
 
 Burk, Steve, 101. 
 
 Butler, Sergeant, 153. 
 
 Cabanisse, Dr., 342. 
 Cadotte, Nick, 284. 
 Calhoun, Lieutenant, 151. 
 Cameron, Angus, U. S. Senator, 272. 
 Canby, Gen. E. R. S., 318, 325, 326, 
 
 333 ; murder of, 334. 
 Cannon-Bail River, 102. 
 Carignan, John M., 216. 
 Catch-the-Bear, 220, 221, 
 
 Cavanaugh, , 43. 
 
 Cedar Creek, 101, 102. 
 Chapin, A. R., 222. 
 Chappelle, Father, 278. 
 Charging Thunder, 100. 
 Chaska, name commonly given to first- 
 born son among the Sioux, 226. 
 Chatka, Lieutenant, Indian policeman, 
 
 ejects Kicking Bear from Standing 
 
 Rock reservation, 191. 
 Cheyennes, 5, 18, 125, 130; at the 
 
 Little Big Horn, 137,. 148, 152; 265; 
 
 agreement concluded with, by author, 
 
 302 seqq. 
 Chilcat family, 312. 
 Chippewas (Red Lake), 314. 
 Circling Bear, 130, 192, 197. 
 Circling Hawk, 192, 197. 
 Cleveland, Grover, Pres. of U. S., 280, 
 
 290, 291. 
 Cleveland, Rev. William J., 274. 
 Cody, Col. W. F., 209, 210, 211. 
 Comanches, 5, 18, 265. 
 
 Commission of 1867, to treat with In- 
 dians, report of, 265; treaties con- 
 cluded by, with various Sioux tribes, 
 266. 
 
 Commission of 1876, treaty concluded 
 by, after the Little Big Horn cam- 
 paign, 270. 
 
 Commission of 1882, failure of, 271, 
 272. 
 
 Commission of Senators (1883), im- 
 portant work, and report of, 272, 273. 
 
 Commission of 1888, 273; proposed 
 agreement of, with Sioux tribes, 274, 
 275 ; negotiations of, in Washington, 
 with Indian delegation, 276 seqq. 
 
 Commission of 1889, 280; agreement 
 proposed by, and its ratification, 
 281-287. 
 
 Cook, Lieutenant, Custer's adjutant, 
 143, 152. 
 
 Cooper, James A., 304. 
 
 "Counting the coup," 181. 
 
 Cow Head, 69. 
 
 Craigie, General, 283. 
 
 Cramsie, John W., 291. 
 
 Cranston, Lieutenant, 340. 
 
 Crazy Horse, 119, 121, 122, 123, 125, 
 133, 137, 148, 152, 269. 
 
 Crazy Walking, Indian policeman, 100, 
 103, 104, 115; sent to arrest Kicking 
 Bear, 191 ; origin of name of, 234. 
 
 Crook, Gen. George, 121, 125, 126. 
 132, 268, 280, 282, 283; the "pony- 
 and-grub man," 294. 
 
 Crow, 150. 
 
 Crow Creek, 54. 
 
 Crow Dog, 73, 74, 197. 
 
 Crow Foot, 219, 220. 
 
 Crow King, 34, 35 ; and Red Bird, 77 
 seqq.; and the Sun-dance, 79, 80; 
 wounded in battle with Crows, 81; 
 abandoned by his people, 81; self- 
 debasement of, 83, 84 ; abandoned by 
 Red Bird, 84 ; and the medicine men, 
 85 seqq.; "puts the tribe of quacks 
 out of business," 88-90; reluctance 
 
 [408] 
 
INDEX 
 
 of, to send his daughter to school, 91, 
 92 ; becomes advocate of white man's 
 medicine, 94-96; 99, 100, 105, 107, 
 119, 122; at the Little Big Horn, 133, 
 134, 150; and Sitting Bull, 182. 
 
 Crow King, Mrs. See Red Bird. 
 
 Crow's Breast, 258. 
 
 Crow's Ghost, 110. 
 
 Crows, 18, 24, 81, 128, 130, 181, 250. 
 
 Curly-Headed Doctor, 325, 326, 327, 
 331, 332. 
 
 Custer, Boston, 152. 
 
 Custer, Gen. George A., 117, 118; 
 character and antecedents of, 119, 
 120; out of favor with President 
 Grant, in 1876, 120; effect of presi- 
 dential disfavor in curtailing author- 
 ity of, in campaign of 1876, 121, 126; 
 sets out from camp on the Rosebud, 
 June 22, 126 ; misapprehension of, as 
 to Indian force, 127; 137, 138, 143; 
 his march against the Indian village, 
 144 seqq. ; attacked by Indians under 
 Gall, 149, 150; retreat and death of, 
 150 seqq.; his body unmutilated, 
 155. 
 
 Custer, Capt. Tom, 151, 152. 
 
 Cut Heads, 12, 17; at Devils Lake, 22, 
 23 ; origin of name of, 25 ; and Brave 
 Bear, 42 seqq. ; 53, 54, 254, 255, 256. 
 
 Dakotas, properly the name of the 
 Sioux, 27. 
 
 Davis, Gen Jefferson C, 341. 
 
 Dawes, Henry L., U. S. Senator, 272. 
 
 Dawes Committee, 272, 273. 
 
 Deeble, H. M., 222. 
 
 De Lormes, murder of the, by Brave 
 Bear and The Only One, 41 seqq. 
 
 Devils Lake, 9, 10; Red River half- 
 breeds at, 10 ; reservation estabhshed 
 on, 12. 
 
 Devils Lake agency, 9, 14, 15; condi- 
 tions at, under the treaty of 1868, 22, 
 23; description of life at, 28 seqq.; 
 53, 54, 56. 
 
 Devine, , 350. 
 
 De Wolf, Dr., 148. 
 
 Diggers, 292; various tribes of, 293; 
 
 314. 
 "Dirt-throwers" (Oglalas), 26. 
 Drum, Colonel, 201, 211, 212; ordered 
 
 to arrest Sitting Bull, 214, 216, 217. 
 Dupis, Hypolite, 13. 
 Dyer, L. S., 333. 
 
 Eagle Man, John, Indian policeman, 
 
 101, 104, 112. 
 Eats-no-Fish, 87. 
 Edgerly, Lieutenant, 157. 
 Edmunds, Newton, 271. 
 Ellen's Man, 333. 
 
 Fargo, No. Dakota, 14. 
 
 Faribault, George H., 44. 
 
 Fetchel, Capt. E. G., 217. 
 
 Fetterman, Fort, 126. 
 
 Finnerty, John F., 132. 
 
 Fire Cloud, dedicates Standing Rock, 
 37, 38, 39. 
 
 Fire Heart, 100. 
 
 Five Wounds, 365. 
 
 Forbes, Maj. W. H., appointed agent at 
 Devils Lake, 8; character and pre- 
 vious history of, 8, 9 ; death of, 29. 
 
 Fort Hall treaty, 292. 
 
 Foster, Charles. 280. 
 
 Fox, Andrew, Sitting Bull's son-in-law, 
 215. 
 
 Funds in U. S. Treasury belonging to 
 Indians, 402, 403. 
 
 Gall, Chief, 34, 35; love affairs of, 61- 
 64; 99, 100; the leading figure on the 
 Indian side at the Little Big Horn, 
 119-133; a shrewd diplomat and 
 skillful general, 121; limitations of, 
 122, 123; 134, 137; attacks Reno, 
 138, 139, 142; 144, 145; prepares to 
 receive Custer, 146 seqq.; attacks 
 Reno again, 157; 159, 180; and Sit- 
 ting Bull, 182; Indian name of, mis- 
 
 [409 ] 
 
INDEX 
 
 conceived by translators, 233; 284, 
 285, 286, 288. 
 
 Gates, Frank, 115. 
 
 George, Captain, 321. 
 
 Ghost-dancing, described, 202 seqq. 
 And see Messianic Movement, Kick- 
 ing Bear, and Sitting Bull. 
 
 Gibbon, Gen. John, 123, 126, 127, 130, 
 160, 356 seqq. 
 
 Godfrey, Gen. E. S., his story of the 
 battle of the Little Big Horn, 117; 
 128. 
 
 Grand River, Sitting Bull's camp on, 
 184, 215, 216, 219. 
 
 Grandfather, a term held in veneration 
 among the Sioux, 236. 
 
 Grant, Ulysses S., President of U. S., 
 proclaims "peace policy " in dealing 
 with Indians, 6; General Custer out 
 of favor with, in 1876, 120, 121; 
 "peace policy" of, 330, 391. 
 
 Grass, hereditary name of a line of 
 chieftains, 232. 
 
 Grass, father of John Grass, 233. 
 
 Grass, John, 34, 35, 100, 107, 232, 233, 
 279, 281, 284, 285, 286, 288. 
 
 Gray Eagle, 100, 206. 
 
 Greasy Grass, Indian name of the Little 
 BigHorn, 130; in Mrs. Spotted Horn 
 Bull's story of the battle, 165-177. 
 
 Great Sioux reservation, 18. 
 
 Greene, Major, 341. 
 
 Gros Ventres, 18, 24, 250, 251, 253, 256, 
 258. 
 
 Guides in Indian country, 19, 20. 
 
 Hancock, Gen. Winfield S., 21, 22. 
 Harney, Gen. William S., 265. 
 Harris, Lieutenant, 340. 
 Hawk ]Man, Indian policeman, 216, 
 217, 221. 
 
 Haynes, , 13. 
 
 Head Chief, 304-306. 
 
 He Dog, 134. 
 
 Henderson, J. B., U. S. Senator. 265. 
 
 Hickok, " Wild Bill," 20. 
 
 Hidden Wood Creek, 110, 115. 
 
 High Bear, brother of Crow King, ill- 
 ness of, 85 seqq. 
 
 Hill, Samuel, 366. 
 
 His Thunder Shield, 66. 
 
 Hodgson, Lieutenant, 147. 
 
 Hollow Horn Bear, 195, 196. 
 
 Hooker Jim, 327, 328, 331, 332, 334, 
 341, 342. 
 
 Horned Dog, 69. 
 
 "Hostiles" at Standing Rock, 33, 34. 
 
 Howard, Gen. Oliver O., 344, 346, 348, 
 349,353 seqq.; in pursuit of Joseph, 
 358 seqq.; 363, 364. 
 
 Howe, Lieutenant, 340. 
 
 Hudson's Bay Company, 10. 
 
 Hump, 134, 152; and Sitting Bull, 182. 
 
 Hunkpapas, origin of name of, 25; 77; 
 supplied many medicine men of the 
 Teton Sioux, 86; 98, 99, 107, 116; at 
 the Little Big Horn, 136, 138, 149, 
 152; 266. 
 
 Hunters in Indian country, 19, 20. 
 
 Hush-Hush-Cute, 349. 
 
 Ilges, Major, 361. 
 Indian children, schooling of, 32, 33. 
 Indian fighters, professional, 18, 19. 
 Indian nomenclature, 223, seqq., 228 
 
 seqq. ; confusion of, led to attempted 
 
 government regulation of, 226 seqq. ; 
 
 misleading character of translations 
 
 of, 228 ; names of women in, 229, 230 ; 
 
 whole universe drawn upon in, 234, 
 
 235; Indian will himself soon feel 
 
 need of simpler system of, 235. 
 Indian police, 196, 209, 221. And see 
 
 Bull Head, Red Tomahawk, and 
 
 Shave Head. 
 Indian villages, permanent, 258 seqq. 
 Indian wars, usual causes of, 17, 390; 
 
 chargeable to bad faith of whites, 
 
 390. 
 Indians, position of, during Civil War 
 
 and immediately thereafter, 4, 5; 
 
 roving bands of, a menace to travel, 
 
 [410] 
 
INDEX 
 
 5 ; every man's hand against, 6 ; phy- 
 sical aspect of, 6; in 1871, "halter- 
 broke, but not bitted," 7; at Devils 
 Lake, 15, 16; their affection for the 
 soil, 17, 270; ties of blood strong 
 among, 24, 91; various tempera- 
 mental characteristics of, 59 seqq.; 
 polygamy among, 64, 65 ; love of off- 
 spring most common characteristic 
 of, 91 ; must not be asked if they are 
 sick, 237; when death impends, 237, 
 242; curious notions of, concerning 
 health, 237-239; concerning hell, 
 239; religious beliefs of, 239, 240; su- 
 perstitions of, 240; elaborate prepa- 
 rations of, for death, often effect a 
 cure, 241 ; traces of white man's in- 
 fluence on, 260 >eqq.; methods of 
 U. S. government of dealing with, 262 ; 
 assimilation of, with American body 
 politic, a difScult problem, 262; un- 
 fair treaties with, and violation of 
 treaty rights of, 263 seqq.; commis- 
 sions appointed to treat with, 264 
 seqq. ; treaty of 1868 with, 266 seqq. ; 
 object to exploration of Black Hills, 
 268; treaty of 1876 with, 269; atti- 
 tude of, toward the agreement pro- 
 posed by the Commission of 1888, 
 274 seqq.; delegation of, in Wash- 
 ington, 276 seqq. ; and the commis- 
 sion of 1889, 281-287; shrewd diplo- 
 mats, 293, 294; various tribes of, 
 with whom treaties have been made 
 since 1895, 294 seqq.; Indian human 
 nature much the same the country 
 over, 296; treaty-making with, 310; 
 in Pacific States, 312; independence 
 of, in tribal state, 314; sternly re- 
 pressive methods generally effectual 
 with, 372; their sense of meum and 
 tuum not sharply defined, 372 ; funds 
 belonging to, in U. S. Treasury, 388, 
 402 ; landed property held by govern- 
 ment for, 388; unhappy plight of, 
 under present conditions, 388 seqq. ; 
 
 importance of problem of, to people of 
 U. S., 389; how is the problem to be 
 solved? 389 seqq.; General Sherman 
 concerning, 390; reasons for degen- 
 eration of, 393 seqq.; example of 
 their degeneration, 396-399 ; diversity 
 of conditions in various tribes, 400 
 seqq. And see Modocs, Nez Perces, 
 Sioux, and Utes. 
 
 Ireland, Archbishop, 9. 
 
 Iron Cedar, 145. 
 
 Iron White Man, 209. 
 
 "Isaiah," 13. 
 
 Jack, Captain, 315, 318, 321 ; and the 
 medicine man who failed to cure a 
 brave, 323, 324; becomes a wan- 
 derer, 325; and the peace commis- 
 sion, 331 ; at Yainax, 332 ; chieftaincy 
 of, in danger, 332; 334; murders 
 General Canby, 334; commands 
 in Lava-Beds, 338; captured, 342; 
 hanged, 343. 
 
 Jackson, Captain, 326. 
 
 James, Judge, 365. 
 
 James River, 10. 
 
 Johnson, , murdered by Brave 
 
 Bear, 51. 
 
 Johnson, C. D., 382. 
 
 Johnson, Capt. Carter P., 386. 
 
 Johnson, Henry (Ute), 381. 
 
 Joseph, Chief, military genius of, 344, 
 367; his story of the Nez Perce war 
 as told to author, 346 seqq.; last 
 "peace-talk" of, 349; in ambush in 
 White Bird Canon, 352 ; defeats Colo- 
 nel Perry there, 353 ; fights General 
 Howard on the Clearwater, is beaten, 
 and retreats, 354 seqq. ; surprised by 
 General Gibbon in Big Hole Valley, 
 but defeats him, 357, 358 ; pursued by 
 Howard and eludes him, 359; last 
 fight of, 361 seqq. ; surrenders to Gen- 
 eral Miles, 363; visit of , to Wallowa, 
 with author (1900), 366; death of, 
 366; monument to memory of, 366. 
 
 [411] 
 
INDEX 
 
 Jumping Badger, original name of 
 Sitting Bull, 181. 
 
 Kellogg, , 152. 
 
 Kennedy, John E., 32, 44, 46 
 
 Keogh, Fort, 92. 
 
 Keogh, Major, 151, 155. 
 
 Kicking Bear, and the Coming of the 
 Ghosts, 183 seqq.; new religion of, 
 183; and Sitting Bull, 183, 184; an 
 exhorter, but no leader, 183; his 
 speech, 185-189; a big medicine 
 man among the Minniconjous, ISO ; 
 ejected from Standing Rock reserva- 
 tion, 191. 
 
 Kill Eagle, 34, 100, 150. 
 
 Kiowas, 5, 18, 265. 
 
 Kirk, Rev. Jesse, 317. 
 
 Kittson, Commodore N. W., 9. 
 
 Klamaths, 317 seqq. 
 
 Lakota. See Dakota. 
 
 Lame Deer, 134, 152, 302. 
 
 Lame Deer agency, 302, 303. 
 
 Laramie, Fort, 286. 
 
 Lava-Beds, 315 seqq.; described, 319; 
 battle of, 328 seqq., 337 seqq. 
 
 Lechner, , 13. 
 
 Left Bear, 15. 
 
 Lincoln, Fort, 126. 
 
 Little Assiniboine, 206. 
 
 Little Big Horn, battle of the, 123 ; pre- 
 liminaries of, 127 seqq.; prepara- 
 tions of the Sioux for, 130 seqq.; 
 described from narratives of the 
 principal chiefs, 136 seqq.; disposi- 
 tion of Indian forces in, 136-138; 
 Major Reno's ineffective attack, 139 
 seqq.; Custer's march against the 
 village, 144 seqq.; attacked by the 
 Indians, Custer retreats, 149, 150; 
 death of Custer, and annihilation of 
 his force, 151 seqq. ; described by Mrs. 
 Spotted Horn Bull, 165 seqq.; a 
 battle, not a massacre, 391. 
 
 Little Bull, 57. 
 
 Little Chief, 307. 
 
 Little Dog, 243. 
 
 Little Soldier, anecdote of, 241-244. 
 
 "Loafers," 26. 
 
 Logan, John A., U. S. Senator, 272. 
 
 Logan, Major W. R., 368. 
 
 "Long Hair," name given by Indians 
 
 to General Custer, 152. 
 Long Soldier, 83, 34, 103. 
 Looking Glass (brave), 349, 351, 353. 
 
 356, 365. 
 Looking Glass (diplomat), 358, 365. 
 Lord, Captain, 152. 
 Lost River, 322, 325 seqq. 
 Loud, Major, 299. 
 Low Dog, 197. 
 Lucy Provincial, 75, 76. 
 
 Mackin, Father, 278. 
 
 Mad Bear, 66, 284, 285, 286, 288. 
 
 Male Bear, 209. 
 
 Mandans, 18, 24; are they of Welsh 
 origin? 249; 250 seqq. 
 
 Marsh, Capt. Grant, 126, 127. 
 
 Martin, Sergeant, 369. 
 
 Marty, Bishop, and Sitting Bull, 65, 
 66; 206. 
 
 Mason, Harry, 350. 
 
 Mathey, Captain, 58. 
 
 Matozee, 67, 68. 
 
 Mcintosh, Lieutenant, 147. 
 
 McKay, Donald, 338. 
 
 McKenzie, Alexander, 14. 
 
 McLaughlin, Harry, 101, 107, 111, 113, 
 164. 
 
 McLaughlin, James (author), early 
 history of, 7, 8; first acquaintance of, 
 with Indians and mixed bloods, 8; 
 enters Indian service under Major 
 Forbes at Devils Lake (1871), 8; ap- 
 pointed agent at Devils Lake, 29, 30 ; 
 transferred to Standing Rock (1881), 
 30 ; dealings of, ^^ith " hostiles" there, 
 33, 34; at dedication of Standing 
 Rock, 38 ; and the murder of the De 
 Lormes, 42 seqq.; difficulties of. with 
 
 [412 ] 
 
INDEX 
 
 nomadic Indians, 52, 53; and the 
 case of One Elk, 56 seqq. ; and Chief 
 Gall's love-affair, 62-64 ; relations of, 
 with Crow King, 90 seqq.; methods 
 of, in dealing -with Indians, 98, 262 
 seqq. ; organizes great buffalo hunt, 
 98 seqq.; first interview of, with Sit- 
 ting Bull, 182, 183; sends police un- 
 der Crazy Walking to eject Kicking 
 Bear, 191 ; sends second detachment 
 imder Chatka, 191; urges imprison- 
 ment of Sitting Bull, 192, 197, 199; 
 fears effect of military interference, 
 201; visits Sitting Bull's camp, 201 
 seqq. ; interview of, with Sitting Bull, 
 205 seqq.; recommends coercing 
 ghost-dancers, 208, 209; plans of, to 
 arrest Sitting Bull without military 
 aid, 210 seqq. ; letter of, to Bull Head, 
 217; and the feud between the Rees 
 and their allies and the Santees and 
 Cut Heads, 251-259; and the Com- 
 mission of 1888, 273 seqq.; confi- 
 dence of Indians in, 273 ; ex officio, a 
 member of the Commission of 1888, 
 275 ; attitude of, toward work of that 
 commission, 275; in Washington 
 with Indian delegation, 276 seqq.; 
 and the Commission of 1889, 281 
 seqq. ; secures ratification of agree- 
 ment proposed by that commission, 
 283 seqq. ; declines oflBce of Assistant 
 Commissioner of Indian Affairs, 290 ; 
 appointed Inspector, 291; treaty- 
 making chief concern of, in that 
 office, 291; numerous treaties and 
 agreements made by, 294-314; visit 
 of, to Klamath-Modoc countrj', 317; 
 and Chief Joseph, 344 seqq. ; visit of, 
 in his company, to scene of Nez Perce 
 war, 366 seqq.; relations and nego- 
 tiations of, with W^hite River Utes, 
 376, 381 seqq. 
 McLaughlin, Mrs. James, 68 ; anecdote 
 of, and Arrow Woman, 241-244; 
 284, 287. 
 
 [413 ] 
 
 Meacham, A. B., Sup't of Lost River 
 agency, 325, 330, 333, 334. 
 
 Medawakantons, 12, 17. 
 
 Medicine men, and Crow King, 85 
 seqq.; defied by him, 88-GO; put to 
 death when "medicine" failed, 323; 
 this custom indirect cause of Modoc 
 war, 324. 
 
 Meeker massacre, 372, 374. 
 
 "Messianic movement" among the In- 
 dians, origin and progress of, 183 
 seqq.; effect of, 190; how nearly it 
 led to a bloody war, 196 ; noticed in 
 the press, 197, 198; rapid spread of 
 news of, among the Indians, 198. 
 And see Ghost-dancing, and Kicking 
 Bear. 
 
 Miles, Gen. Nelson A., 177, 210, 346; 
 and Chief Joseph, 361 seqq. ; accepts 
 Joseph's surrender on honorable 
 terms, 363, 364. 
 
 Miller, Thomas, 101. 
 
 Minnesota Massacre, 12, 16, 23. 
 
 Minnewaukon, Sioux name for Devils 
 Lake, 9. 
 
 Minniconjous, origin of name of, 26; 
 99; at the Little Big Horn, 136, 149, 
 152; 266. 
 
 Mission Indians, 312. 
 
 Missourias, 311. 
 
 Modoc war, 316 seqq.; chargeable to 
 bad faith of whites, 320; immediate 
 cause of, 321 seqq. 
 
 Modocs, 315 seqq.; justice of the cause 
 of, 325; commissions appointed to 
 treat with, 330, 331 ; punitive expedi- 
 tion against, 337; under Captain 
 Jack in the Lava-Beds, 338 seqq. 
 
 Moose Dung, 314. 
 
 Morgan, John T., U. S. Senator, 272. 
 
 Names of Indians. See Indian nomen- 
 clature. 
 Nesbitt, Ben, 13. 
 News, spread of, in Indian country. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Nez Perces, 344 seqq.; t'pper and 
 
 Lower, 347. 
 No Neck, 150. 
 Northern Pacific R. R., 21, 22. 
 
 Oberly, , Commissioner of Indian 
 
 Affairs, 279. 
 Oglalas, 20, 25, 26, 99 ; at the Little Big 
 
 Horn, 136, 149, 152; 266. 
 Old Joseph, father of Chief Joseph, 
 
 346, 347, 366. 
 011a[ijcutt, brother of Chief Joseph, 
 
 350, 365. 
 One Bull, Indian policeman, 185. 
 One Elk, murders his wife's kindred 
 
 through excess of zeal for the govern- 
 ment, 52 seqq. 
 One-Eyed Jim, 334, 343. 
 Only One, The, and Brave Bear, 41 
 
 seqq. 
 Only One, The, Mrs., 48, 49. 
 Osages, enormously wealthy, 401. 
 Otoes, 310, 311. 
 
 Pacific Coast Indians, 312, 313. 
 
 Pawnees, 250. 
 
 Peck, Fort, 54, 55. 
 
 Pembina, No. Dakota, murder of the 
 
 De Lormes at, 41, 42. 
 Pembina, Fort, 14. 
 Pemmican, 11. 
 Perronto, Joe, 255, 258. 
 Perry, Colonel, 352. 
 Peter Skunk, 112. 
 Pettigrew, F. A., U. S. Senator, 301. 
 Pine Ridge agency, 51. 
 Pipestone quarry, 300. 
 Pizi, Sioux name of Chief Gall, 165-177 
 
 passim, 233. 
 Polygamy among the Indians, 64-66. 
 Port Madison Indians, 313. 
 Porter, Dr., 142, 143. 
 Pratt, Capt. R. H., 274, 278. 
 Primeau, Louis, 201, 204, 207, 218. 
 Princess Mary, sister of Captain Jack, 
 
 331, 332, 342. 
 
 Proposal Hill, Standing Rock removed 
 
 to, 36. 
 Pte, Indian name of the buffalo, 97. 
 Pte-San-Waste-Win, Sioux maiden 
 
 name of Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull, 
 
 162. 
 
 Raboin, Edward, 365. 
 
 Rain-in-the-Face, 100, 107; and Sitting 
 Bull, 182; origin of name of, 223. 
 224; family of, 226. 
 
 Ramsey, Alexander, Governor of Min- 
 nesota, 9. 
 
 Randall, Fort, 98, 99, 183. 
 
 Ranson, Fort, 14. 
 
 Red Bird, wife of Crow King, 77 seqq. 
 
 Red Boy, 58. 
 
 Red Canon, 299. 
 
 Red Cap, 384. 
 
 Red Cloud, "the ideal chief," 20; and 
 the treaty of 1868, 20, 21; 70, 180, 
 266, 268. 
 
 Red Fish, 66. 
 
 Red Horse, 103. 
 
 Red River half-breeds, descendants of 
 French voyagexirs, 10; their history 
 and character, 10-12; their hunting- 
 camp at Devils Lake, 11. 
 
 Red River of the North, 10, 14. 
 
 Red Tomahawk, Indian policeman, 
 218, 219; kills Sitting Bull, 221. 
 
 Reedy, Thomas J., 43. 
 
 Rees, 18, 128, 250, 251, 253, 255, 256, 
 258. 
 
 Reid, Artie, 152. 
 
 Reno, Maj. Marcus A., 118, 122, 126, 
 130; at the Little Big Horn, 136 
 seqq.; ineffective attack of, 139, 140; 
 retreat of, l42 seqq. ; remains inactive 
 while Custer's command is anni- 
 hilated, 155, 156; attacked by Gall, 
 157, 158; 160. 
 
 Reynolds, Charlie, 20. 
 
 Riddle, IVIrs. Toby, and the Modoc 
 war, 316 seqq. ; 323, 333, 335. 
 
 Roseborough, Judge, 331. 
 
 [414] 
 
INDEX 
 
 Rosebud agency, 73. 
 
 Rosebud reservation, Brules on, 307, 
 
 308. 
 Round Valley School, 292. 
 Ruffee, Maj. Charles, 13, 14. 
 Ruger, Gen. Thomas H., 212, 213. 
 Running Antelope, 103, 104, 106. 
 Running Bear, rival in love of Spotted 
 
 Tail, 71-73. 
 Running Holy, origin of name of, 234. 
 Ryan, Thomas, Acting Secretary of the 
 
 Interior, 377; letter of, to author and 
 
 President Roosevelt, regarding Ute 
 
 outbreak, 378-380. 
 
 Saint Paul, Minn., in 1871, 8. 
 
 Sanborn, Gen. John B., 9, 265. 
 
 Sans Arcs, 26, 99; at the Little Big 
 Horn, 136, 149, 152; 266. 
 
 Santees, 12, 17, 254, 255, 256, 264. 
 
 Scarf aced Charlie, 318, 342. 
 
 Schonchin John, 318, 321, 322, 324, 
 327, 332, 333, 334, 342, 343. 
 
 Senate of United States appoints com- 
 mission of Senators to treat vi^ith In- 
 dians (1883), 272. 
 
 Seventh Cavalry, at the Little Big 
 Horn, 118 seqq.; losses of, 160. 
 
 Shacknasty Jim, 318, 333, 334, 342. 
 
 Shannon, Peter C, 271. 
 
 Sharp Nose, 297, 299. 
 
 Shave Head, Indian policeman, 109, 
 115, 215, 217; proceeds to arrest Sit- 
 ting Bull, 218-221; death of, 221; 
 burial of, with military honors, 222. 
 
 Shaw, William, 253. 
 
 Shell King, dispute of, with Sitting 
 Bull, 232. 
 
 Sheridan, Gen. Philip H., 5, 125. 
 
 Sherman, Gen. William T., 265, 2C8; 
 on responsibility for Indian wars, 
 390. 
 
 Shipto, 24. 
 
 Shoshones, 130, 296-299. 
 
 Sibley, Gen. H. H., 9. 
 
 Sibley, Lieutenant, 132. 
 
 [ 41 
 
 Siute Gleska, Sioux name of Spotted 
 Tail, 234. 
 
 Sioux, Devils Lake the resort of, 9; 
 their superstition concerning it, 9; 
 tribes of, in 1871, 16; history and 
 characteristics of, 24, 25; supersti- 
 tious veneration of, for Standing 
 Rock, 36 ; polygamists by custom, 65 ; 
 outbreak of, in 1876, due to the white 
 man's thirst for the privileges of min- 
 ing in Black Hills, 124; preparations 
 of, for battle, 130 seqq.; notes con- 
 cerning names of individuals, 223- 
 236; chiefs of, at Washington (1888), 
 276,277. And see Brules, Cut Heads, 
 Hunkpapas, Minniconjous, Oglalas, 
 Sans Arcs, Santees, Teton Sioux, 
 Yanktonais. 
 
 Sioux, East Missouri, 18. 
 
 Sissetons, 17, 23, 53. 
 
 Sitting Bull, and the treaty of 1868, 21 ; 
 35, 38, 46; and Brave Bear, 51; a 
 polygamist, 65, 66; 98, 99, 115, 121, 
 123, 125, 131, 132; his predominance, 
 though not a war chief, due to his 
 reputation for "good medicine," 
 133; prophesies victory, 133; at the 
 Little Big Horn, 140-142; a physical 
 coward, 141; 159, 161; whereabouts 
 of, during Little Big Horn battle, a 
 mystery, 165; character and influ- 
 ence of, 180; history of, 180 seqq.; 
 first known as Jumping Badger, 181 ; 
 a maker of "good medicine," 181, 
 182; loss of prestige of, caused by 
 disasters of Sioux under his leader- 
 ship in Canada, after the campaign 
 of 1876, 182; surrender of (1881), 
 182; interview of author with, 182; at 
 Standing Rock, 183; and Kicking 
 Bear, 183 seqq.; manager of the new 
 religion at Standing Rock, 184; 
 settled on Grand River, 184; a 
 zealous propagator of the new cult, 
 190 seqq.; breaks the peace pipe, 
 192; insolence of, due to non-action 
 
 5] 
 
INDEX 
 
 of the Department, 192; 199, 2C0; 
 continues unmolested in Messianic 
 camp, 201 ; at the Ghost-dance, 203, 
 204; interview of author with, 205; 
 refuses to go to agency, 207, 208; 
 plans for arrest of, 209 seqq. ; purpose 
 of, to leave reservation, 213; curious 
 letter of, to author, 215; prepares to 
 leave, 216; arrest and death of, 218- 
 221; burial of, at Fort Yates, 222; 
 and Shell King, 231, 232; spiritual- 
 istic professions of, 241; 268, 269, 
 286, 287. 
 
 Sitting Bull, the elder, father of Sitting 
 Bull, 181. 
 
 Slocum, Maj. Herbert J., 44, 45. 
 
 Slolox, 334, 343. 
 
 Smith, Hoke, Secretary of the Interior, 
 290, 291. 
 
 Spotted Horn Bull, 100, 107, 162, 163, 
 
 Spotted Horn Bull, Mrs., 129, 132, 135, 
 136; an eye-witness of the Little Big 
 Horn affair, 162; antecedent history 
 of, 162-164; her story of the battle, 
 165 seqq. 
 
 Spotted Tail, 20; love-affairs of, 70-74; 
 180; name of, a mistranslation, 234. 
 
 Soccioff, 384. 
 
 Son-of-the-Star, 253, 258. 
 
 Standing Buffalo, 23, 24. 
 
 Standing Elk, 244-246. 
 
 Standing Elk, Mrs., and her coflSn, 
 244-246. 
 
 Standing Rock, a natural phenomenon, 
 venerated by the Sioux, 35, 36; 
 property of the Teton Sioux, 36 ; set 
 up on Proposal Hill, 36-39. 
 
 Standing Rock agency, 30; conditions 
 at, in 1881, 32, 33; 54; great buffalo 
 hunt at, 97 seqq. 
 
 Standing Soldier, 115. 
 
 Steamboat Frank, apotheosis of, 315; 
 334, 342. 
 
 Steele, Judge, 333. 
 
 Stephen, Father, agent at Standing 
 Rock, 30. 
 
 Stevens, Isaac, 347. 
 Stevenson, Fort, 14, 257. 
 Stitsell, James, 44, 101. 
 Striker, Bernard, 368. 
 Strikes-the-Kettle, 207, 220, 221. 
 Sturgis, Colonel, 121, 360. 
 Sun-dance, the, 30 seqq. ; abolished at 
 
 Devils Lake, 32. 
 Swift Bird, 278. 
 
 Tappan, S. F., 265. 
 
 Tawacihomini, Indian policeman, 32. 
 
 Taylor, N. G., Commissioner of Indian 
 Affairs, 265. 
 
 Teller, James H., 271. 
 
 Tepees, 245. 
 
 Terry, Gen. Alfred H., 14, 121, 123, 
 126; had little knowledge of Indians 
 or Indian warfare, 127; 130, 160, 
 265. 
 
 Terry, George (half-breed), 296. 
 
 Teton Sioux, 5, 16, 17; haunts and 
 neighbors of, 18; "out" in 1870 and 
 1871, 20 seqq. ; 36; medicine men of, 
 86; 250, 251, 263, 264, 265. 
 
 Thomas, Captain, 339, 340. 
 
 Thomas, Rev. Dr., 318, 331, 333, 334. 
 
 Thunder - Traveling - over - the - Moun- 
 tains, Indian name of Chief Joseph, 
 347. 
 
 Tio Waste, 15. 
 
 Too-Hul-Hul-Sute, 349. 
 
 Toombs, Robert,' anecdote of, 337. 
 
 Totten, Fort, 14, 22, 29, 43. 
 
 Townsend, Colonel, 283. 
 
 Trappers in Indian country, 19, 20. 
 
 Traverse, Lake, 53. 
 
 Treaties with Indians, constantly 
 broken by whites, 390. 
 
 Treaty of 1867, 29. 
 
 Treafy of 1868, 20, 21, 124, 264, 266. 
 269. 
 
 Treaty of 1876, 269. 
 
 Treaty-making with Indians, 310. 
 
 Tribes, origin of names of, 25-27. 
 
 Two Bears, 286. 
 
 [ 416] 
 
INDEX 
 
 Two Bulls, father-in-law of One Elk, 
 
 54-56. 
 Two-Kettles, origin of name of, 26 ; 266. 
 Two Moons, 134, 307. 
 
 Uintah Utes. See Utes. 
 
 Utes, an irresponsible, shiftless, defiant 
 people to-day, 372; depredations of, 
 in Wyoming in 1906, 373 seqq.; still 
 unwhipped, 387. 
 
 Vest, George G., U. S. Senator, 272. 
 Vilas, William F., Secretary of the 
 
 Interior, 275, 279, 280. 
 Villages. See Indian villages. 
 Voyageurs, 10, 11. 
 
 W^ahpakootas, 12, 17; origin of name 
 of, 26. 
 
 Wahpetons, 12, 17; origin of name of, 
 26; 53. 
 
 Wallowa valley, 345, 346. 
 
 Wamnuha, 75, 76. 
 
 Wanata, 15. 
 
 Warner, Maj. William, 280. 
 
 Washakie, 297, 298. 
 
 Washakie, Dick, 298. 
 
 Washakie, Fort, 299. 
 
 Wasicun, the white man, effect of com- 
 munication with, on the Indian, 260 
 seqq. 
 
 Weir, Captain, 157. 
 
 Wells, Philip, 94, 277. 
 
 Welsh ancestry of Mandans, 249. 
 
 Whipple, Rt. Rev. Henry B., 269: 
 quoted, concerning treatment of 
 Sioux by U. S., 270. 
 
 White Bird, 348, 350, 364, 365. 
 
 White Bird Caiion, 350. 
 
 White River Utes. See Utes. 
 
 Wind River, Canon of the, 297. 
 
 Winona, name commonly given to first- 
 born daughter among the Sioux, 
 226. 
 
 Wolf Necklace, 111. 
 
 Wood, Gen. P. G., 222. 
 
 Wood Lake, sun-dance at, 32. 
 
 Wright, John V., 274. 
 
 Wright, Lieutenant, 340. 
 
 Yahoo Snakes, or Ya-hoos-kin, 320. 
 Yainax, Oregon, 317; Captain Jack at, 
 
 322. 
 Yanktonais, 12, 17, 25, 36, 99, 107, 116, 
 
 266. 
 Yanktons, 17, 300-302. 
 Yates, Captain, 151, 152. 
 Yates, Fort, 35, 98; Sitting Bull's grave 
 
 at, 179; 182, 201, 216, 217, 222, 282. 
 Yellow Bear. See JNIatozee. 
 Yellow Otter, 206. 
 Young Mule, 304-306. 
 
CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
 U . S . A