Chief One Bull
"To gain time, and not to dwell importunately on a single point, I asked Sitting Bull to tell me something of his early life. In the first place, where he was born? 'I was born on the Missouri River; at least I recollect that somebody told me so—I don't know who told me or where I was told of it.'
"'Of what tribe are you?' 'I am an Uncpapa.'
"'Of the Sioux?' 'Yes; of the great Sioux nation.'
"'Who was your father?' 'My father is dead.'
"'Is your mother living?' 'My mother lives with me in my lodge.'
"'Great lies are told about you. White men say that you lived among them when you were young; that you went to school; that you learned to write and read from books; that you speak English; that you know how to talk French?' 'It is a lie.'
"'You are an Indian?' (Proudly) 'I am a Sioux.'
"Then suddenly relaxing from his hauteur. Sitting Bull began to laugh. 'I have heard,' he said, 'of some of these stories. They are all strange lies. What I am I am,' and here he leaned back and resumed his attitude and expression of barbaric grandeur. 'I am a man. I see, I know; I began to see when I was not yet born—when I was not in my mother's arms. It was then I began to study about my people. I studied about many things. I studied about the smallpox, that was killing my people—the great sickness that was killing the women and children. I was so interested that I turned over on my side. The Great Spirit must have told me at that time (and here he unconsciously revealed his secret), that I would be the man to be the judge of all the other Indians—a big man, to decide for them in all their ways.'
"'And you have since decided for them?' 'I speak. It is enough.'
"'Could not your people, whom you love so well, get on with the Americans?' 'No!'
"'Why?' 'I never taught my people to trust Americans. I have told them the truth—that the Americans are great liars. I never dealt with the Americans. Why should I? The land belonged to my people. I say I never dealt with them—I mean I never treated with them in a way to surrender my people's rights. I traded with them, but I always gave full value for what I got. I never asked the United States Government to make me presents of blankets or cloth, or anything of that kind. The most I did was to ask them to send me an honest trader that I could trade with, and I proposed to give him buffalo robes and elk skins, and other hides in exchange for what we wanted. I told every trader who came to our camps that I did not want any favors from him—that I wanted to trade with him fairly and equally, giving him full value for what I got, but the traders wanted me to trade with them on no such terms. They wanted to give little and get much. They told me if I did not accept what they gave me in trade they would get the Government to fight me. I told them I did not want to fight.'
"'But you fought?' 'At last, yes; but not until I had tried hard to prevent a fight. At first my young men, when they began to talk bad, stole five American horses. I did not like this and was afraid something bad would come of it. I took the horses away from them and gave them back to the Americans. It did no good. By and by we had to fight.'"
The reporter now drew from the great leader his version of the Little Big Horn fight, and the death of Custer. But, as neither party to the dialogue were in the battle, this part of the interview must of necessity be the work of imagination and will not be quoted. It is impossible for any one to give an authentic description of a battle fought in his absence.
John F. Finnerty, the war correspondent for the ChicagoTimes,also visited Sitting Bull, while he and his band were encamped on Mushroom Creek, Woody Mountain, in the summer of 1879.
His experience with the "Sphinx" was somewhat different from that of the other reporter.
The invitation to make this visit also came from Major Walsh, of the mounted police, who called at General Miles's camp, on Rocky Creek, a few days previous. We can only quote a few paragraphs bearing directly on the famous chief:
"So," thought I, "I am going to see the elephant. I have followed Sitting Bull around long enough, and now I shall behold 'the lion in his den,' in earnest. Presently the tramping and shouting of the scalp-dance ceased, and the chiefs, their many colored blankets folded around them, after the fashion of the ancient toga, came filing down to the council, seating themselves according to their tribes in a big semicircle.
"Major Walsh had chairs placed for himself and me under the shade of his garden fence. The chiefs seated themselves on the ground, after the Turkish fashion. Behind them, rank after rank, were the mounted warriors, and still further back, the squaws and children. The chiefs were all assembled, and I inquired which was Sitting Bull. 'He is not among them,' said Major Walsh. 'He will not speak in council where Americans are present, because he stubbornly declares he will have nothing to do with them. You will see him, however, before very long.'
"Soon afterward, an Indian mounted on a cream-colored pony, and holding in his hand an eagle's wing, which did duty for a fan, spurred in back of the chiefs and stared stolidly for a minute or two at me. His hair, parted in the ordinary Sioux fashion, was without a plume. His broad face and wide jaws were destitute of paint, and as he sat there on his horse, regarding me with a look which seemed blended of curiosity and insolence, I did not need to be told that he was Sitting Bull.
"'That is old Bull himself,' said the major. 'He will hear everything, but will say nothing until he feels called upon to agitate something with the tribe?
"After a little, the noted savage dismounted, and led his horse partly into the shade. I noticed he was an inch or two over the medium height, broadly built, rather bow-legged, I thought, and he limped slightly, as though from an old wound. He sat upon the ground, and was soon engirdled by a crowd of young warriors, with whom he was an especial favorite, as representing the unquenchable hostility of the aboriginal savage to the hated palefaces.
"I amused myself on July 31 by accompanying the major to a bluff immediately overlooking the Sioux camp, and from which a complete view of the numbers and surroundings of that great horde of savages could be obtained. I thought there were, at the lowest calculation, from one thousand to eleven hundred lodges in that encampment. There must have been twenty-five hundred fighting men, at the least, in the confederated tribes. Arms and ammunition were plentiful, but food of any kind was scarce. The Indians did not seem to trouble themselves about concealing their strength; on the contrary, they seemed to glory in it, and the young warriors wore an air of haughty hostility whenever I came near them. Their leaders, however, treated me respectfully. Sitting Bull only stared at me occasionally, but was not rude, as was often his habit when brought in contact with people he supposed to be Americans, whom he hated with inconceivable rancor. He said to Larrabee, the interpreter: 'That man (meaning me) is from the other side. I want nothing to do with the Americans. They do not treat me well. They cheat me when I trade. They have my country now. Let them keep it. I never seek anybody. Least of all do I seek any Americans."
"This rather nettled me, for I had made not the slightest attempt to speak to Mr. Bull, and, in fact, did not care much to interview him, as he had been long ago pumped dry about his hatred of our people, and that was about his chief stock-in-trade, although I am not going to deny that he had some great mysterious power over the Sioux, and especially over his own tribe of Uncpapas. He was, in fact, their beau-ideal of implacable hostility to the paleface, and he shouted at the United States, from the safe recesses of the Queen's dominions, 'No surrender!'
"'Tell Sitting Bull,' I said to Larrabee, 'that if he does not seek me, neither do I him. I am not going to beg him to speak to me.'
"The interpreter laughed and said: 'It is just as well not to take any notice. He may be in better humor by-and-by.'
"Many of the high-minded and most of the vicious men among the Indians of the Northwest found their leader in Sitting Bull, who, although often unpopular with his fellow-chiefs, was always potent for evil with the wild and restless spirits who believed that war against the whites was, or ought to be, the chief object of their existence. This was about the true status of the Indian agitator in those days. He had strong personal magnetism. His judgment was said to be superior to his courage, and his cunning superior to both. He had not, like Crazy Horse, the reputation of being recklessly brave, but neither was he reputed a dastard. Sitting Bull was simply prudent and would not throw away his life, so long as he had any chance of doing injury to the Americans.
"It is true that the wily savage was to all intents and purposes, a British subject, but his influence crossed the line, and no settlers would venture on Milk River until the implacable savage was thoroughly whipped and humbled. I don't care what any one says about Sitting Bull not having been a warrior. If he had not the sword, he had at least the magic sway of a Mohammed over the rude war tribes that engirdled him. Everybody talks of Sitting Bull, and, whether he be a figure-head or an idea or an incomprehensible mystery, his old-time influence was undoubted. His very name was potent. He was the Rhoderick Dhu of his wild and warlike race, and when he fell the Sioux Confederation fell with him. The agitator was then verging on fifty, but hardly looked it.
"Mrs. Allen, wife of the post trader, said Sitting Bull was the nicest Indian around the trading-post, always treating her with the most marked consideration, and never intruding upon the privacy of the household, by hanging around at meal time, as some of the others did. In the hostile camp I had several opportunities of studying his face, and I can say honestly that 'Old Sit' has a fine aboriginal countenance, and, once seen, he can never be forgotten. I heard his voice many times—deep guttural, but, at the same time, melodious. He called my friend, Walsh, 'meejure,' his nearest approach to the pronunciation of 'major.' In manner he was dignified but not stiff, and when in good humor, which occurred pretty often, he laughed with the ease of a schoolboy. The traditional idea of white people that Indians never laugh, is but a time-honored absurdity. Among themselves they are often gayly boisterous, and I know of no people who can enjoy what they consider a good joke better.
"The Indians appeared to be pretty short on meat supply during my stay in their camp, but the poor creatures had no more idea of the imminence of the famine which subsequently compelled their surrender, than so many children. The faithful squaws went out on the wooded bluffs and gathered all kinds of berries to make up for the lack of animal food. Yet it was the intense humanity of Major Walsh that absolutely kept the wretched people from eating their horses. I knew then that the reign of Sitting Bull would not be long in the land."
In the fall of 1880, E. H. Allison, the army scout, who was master of the Sioux language, was ordered by Gen. A. H. Terry to visit the camp of Sitting Bull and induce that leader and his band to surrender. Accordingly, the scout made preparation to start, by filling an army wagon with provisions and presents for the Indians. He now selected the four best mules in the camp to draw the wagon, and Private Day, a soldier, volunteered as teamster, dressed in citizen's clothes.
The scout and his companion started from Port Buford October 25, and reached the camp of Sitting Bull in due time. They found the Indians on the west bank of Frenchman's Creek, just where it joins Milk River, which is in the northern part of Montana.
"We reached the camp," said the scout, "about 3 p. m., when I was rather agreeably surprised and somewhat puzzled by receiving a pressing invitation, which could easily be construed into a command, to make my home at Sitting Bull's lodge, as long as I stayed in the camp. I accepted the invitation, but stipulated that Chief Gall should superintend the distribution of the provisions which I had brought them. [He thus satisfied both chiefs and their followers.] To this Sitting Bull readily acceded, and I was soon comfortably housed, together with the soldier, in the tepee of the great Indian priest and prophet. After an early supper, I sought and obtained a private interview with Chief Gall, who, knowing the object of my visit, informed me that he had resolved to effect the surrender of the entire band. Sitting Bull and all, but to accomplish this more time would be required than he had first anticipated. He must first go back to Canada, to enable Sitting Bull to keep an engagement to meet Major Walsh, of the Dominion forces, in a council, at the Woody Mountain Trading Post. And to insure success, and expedite matters, he advised that I should meet him again at Woody Mountain, as soon as possible, after reporting to Major Brotherton, at Fort Buford. Considering the circumstances, I deemed it best to acquiesce in his plans. Yet I was anxious to make some kind of a showing on this trip that would encourage Major Brotherton, and reward him for the confidence he had placed in me. I explained this to Chief Gail, who told me to remain in the camp two days, to rest my mules, and by that time he would have twenty families ready to send in with me; but he cautioned me not to let Silting Bull know their real purpose, but to lead him to suppose they were only going in to the agency on a visit to their friends.
"Perfectly satisfied with these arrangements, I returned a little after dark to Sitting Bull's lodge, where the soldier, who could not speak a word of the Indian language, was having a lonesome time, and growing somewhat anxious for my safety. We were both very tired and soon lay down to rest, while I engaged the old chief in conversation. Sitting Bull's family at that time consisted of his two wives (sisters), two daughters and three sons, the eldest being a daughter of seventeen, the other daughter being next, about fourteen, the eldest son, Crow Foot (since dead), seven years old, and the two youngest boys were twins, born about three weeks before the battle of the Little Big Horn, and were, therefore, not more than four and a half years old; one of the twins was named Ih-pe-ya-na-pa-pi, from the fact that his mother 'fled and abandoned him in the tepee,' at the time of the battle. The accompanying cut shows the arrangement of beds, etc., in the lodge, while we were there.
"I continued in conversation with the chief until about midnight, when I fell asleep. I must have been asleep less than an hour, when I was awakened by the sharp crack of a rifle ringing out on the still night air, and the simultaneous war-whoop of contending savages. The camp was instantly in a state of the wildest confusion. Indian women, seizing their babies, fled, screaming, they knew not whither, for safety; warriors suddenly awakened from their slumbers, seized their arms and flew with the speed of the wind to the aid of their comrades, who were already engaged in conflict with an enemy, whose presence could only be determined by the sharp report and flashes of fire from their guns, as they fired in the darkness upon the Sioux camp. Here was an opportunity for the soldier and myself to prove our friendship, by aiding the Sioux warriors in their defense of the camp, which we proceeded to do, by seizing our rifles and hastily joining the warriors, who, by this time, had turned the enemy, whose firing soon ceased altogether, and we all returned to the camp, where comparative quiet was restored; but no one slept any more that night. Our muscles were strained and our nervous systems were unstrung."
Rain-in-the-Face
"The fact that myself and companion took part in the defense of the camp was favorably commented on by all, and in all probability saved our lives, for the Indians are very superstitious, and their blood was up; something was wrong; in fact, things had been going wrong for several days. There must be a 'Jonah' in the camp, and how easy it would be to find a pair of 'Jonahs' in the persons of two white men in camp; but our prompt action had made a most favorable impression, and diverted their thoughts from the subject of 'Jonahs,' and I improved the opportunity by comparing their uncertain, hunted existence with the happy life of their friends at the agencies in Dakota, whose wives and little ones were even then sleeping peacefully in their beds, without fear of being disturbed by prowling bands of Indian foes.
"A number of warriors followed cautiously after the retreating Blackfeet, but failed to come up with them. They returned to camp about ten in the morning, and reported finding blood-stained bandages on the trail, so there must have been some of the enemy wounded. Among the Sioux, no one was hurt, nor did they lose any horses on this occasion. But danger was yet lurking near. About two in the afternoon, a warrior came into camp and reported the discovery of a small herd of buffalo, about four miles from camp. About thirty warriors mounted their horses and went out to kill them; among the number was Scarlet Plume, a popular young brave, who was a favorite with every one. The warriors approached the buffalo under cover, till they were within easy rifle range, when they opened fire and killed all but one, which struck on across the plain, seemingly unhurt. Young Scarlet Plume alone gave chase, following the animal and finally killing it near the head of a ravine, running up from the Milk River, which at that point was densely studded with timber. He had killed his last buffalo. He was alone and more than a mile from his companions. A party of Blackfeet braves, concealed in the timber, had been watching his movements, and now, while he was busily engaged skinning the buffalo, they approached, under cover of the ravine, shot him, took his scalp and made good their escape. His body was found by his father. Old Scarlet Thunder, and was brought by him into camp, a little before sunset that evening. Then indeed there was weeping and wailing in that camp. Language utterly fails me when I try to describe the scene that followed. His old mother, his five sisters, and scores of friends and relatives, tore their hair, slashed their limbs with knives, till the ground where they stood was wet with hot human gore; they rent their garments, calling in a loud wailing voice upon the name of the lost son and brother.
"It was no time for negotiations. Not a time for anything, in fact, but silence and obscurity on my part; so, with my companion, I sought the seclusion of Sitting Bull's tepee, where we spent the night in fitful and unrefreshing slumber. Early in the morning, at the first faint dawn of day, I was awakened by a call from Chief Gall, whom I joined in a walk about the camp. He informed me that the twenty lodges he had promised me had silently taken their departure during the night, and that I would find them in the evening encamped about twenty miles down the Milk River. He said that five women and nine children belonging to the party, but who had no horses, had remained behind, and desired to ride in my wagon. He also informed me that Strong Hand would return with me to Poplar Creek. Accordingly, as soon as breakfast was over, we hitched up the mules, and were only too glad to get away from a place, where, to say the least, our experience had been very unpleasant. Strong Hand was returning afoot, and at his suggestion, I loaned him my horse, to enable him to traverse the river bottoms in quest of deer. The women and children climbed in the wagon with their meager effects, and we began moving out of the camp. Strong Hand riding just in advance of the mules, while I occupied a seat with the driver.
"It was nearly dark when we came up with the twenty lodges sent on ahead by Chief Gall. Strong Hand was there with plenty of good venison and we soon had a hot supper. We returned in safety to Fort Buford, where, I hope, with a pardonable degree of pride I turned over to Major Brotherton the first fruits of my labor, twenty lodges of the hostile Sioux, and submitted an official report to be forwarded to General Terry, of this, my visit to the camp of Sitting Bull."
A short time after this Scout Allison heard from an Indian who arrived from Sitting Bull's camp that an open rupture had occurred between Chief Gall and Sitting Bull. This was occasioned by the discovery of some of the adherents of Sitting Bull that Chief Gall had instigated the desertion of the twenty lodges who had come with Allison to Buford. Concealment being no longer possible, Chief Gall, characteristically prompt in action, had leaped into the midst of the camp, and publicly called upon all who acknowledged him as chief to separate themselves from the followers of Sitting Bull, and prepare immediately to follow him to Fort Buford. It was a bold thing to do, and the first time in the history of the reign of Sitting Bull that his authority had been set at defiance. It was clearly a test of supremacy, and Chief Gall came off victorious, taking away from Sitting Bull fully two-thirds of the entire band.
On July 20, 1881, Sitting Bull, with the remainder of his band, surrendered at Fort Buford. Two days later all the captive hostiles, numbering 2,829, were turned over to the agent at Standing Rock, North Dakota.
Ellis, in his "Indian Wars," informs us that "For a time the old chief acted like a good Indian. He exhibited himself for weeks in New York and other cities, where he naturally aroused much interest and curiosity. A striking scene was that observed in 1883, when, at one of the railway stations of the West, Sitting Bull sat on a windy eminence selling his autographs for a dollar and a half apiece. In the smiling group of purchasers gathered around him were Generals U. S. Grant and P. H. Sheridan, Carl Schurz, W. M. Evarts, a number of United States Senators and Congressmen, several British noblemen, besides Berlin bankers, German professors, railway presidents, financiers and journalists. The old chief did a thriving trade disposing of his signature, of which this is a facsimile:"
Sitting Bull's Autograph
"In July and August, 1888, Sitting Bull, at a conference at Standing Rock, influenced his tribe to refuse to relinquish their lands. He was as defiant as ever, and, but for his death, must have been the leading actor in the last outbreak."
Nothing more is heard of Sitting Bull until 1890, when that strange hallucination, the Messiah craze, took possession of some of the Sioux bands. This strong delusion seems to have had its origin in about the following manner, as we learn from a letter written to General Miles by an army officer stationed at Los Angeles, California, and bearing the date of November 28, 1890.
In it the officer says: "I know you will be surprised when I say to you, I have found the Messiah, and the story of my finding him is as follows: Last spring an Indian called and said he would like to speak to the commander. I took him into the room, and he gave me a history of himself. He said his name was Johnson Sides; that he was known as the Peace-maker among all Indians and whites of Nevada, where he lived.
"To substantiate his statement he showed me a medal which he carried strung around his neck, on which was a legend to the effect that he was presented with the medal by some Christian society for his efforts toward doing good to his fellowmen, whether white or red.
"He could talk very good English, was dressed like an ordinary laborer, but had the Indian's way of wearing his hair. He told me he knew the Bible; that he was desirous of making peace with every one, and that is why he was named Peacemaker. He said that Indians had come from far and near to see him, and he pulled out a pipe, such as are made by Northern Indians, which pipe was recognized as having come from either Montana or Dakota. Johnson Sides said it came from Dakota, and the kind of clay of which it was made could not be found in Nevada, and that the stem was of a peculiar wood, not found in Nevada or California. He mentioned the names of the Indians who had visited him, and the tribes to which they belonged; also gave the time they had called.
"I firmly believe that this is the good-natured Indian that has caused all this trouble; that he has taught the members of his tribe the story of Christ, or the Messiah, and the time when he will once more visit this earth, as it has been taught him by the Christian people interested in his welfare. He has told these visiting Indians of the paradise in store for all people when the Son shall once more visit the earth; and the Indian's paradise is whatever his imagination may lead him to believe, the same as the white man's. He has no doubt delivered the story in its true light, and the Indians, in retelling the story, have warped and woven it according to their understanding."
It is believed that some of the Sioux of the Standing Rock Agency were among those who visited Johnson Sides, and it is thought that the Messiah craze and ghost dance grew out of the excitement incident to their report of the visit, warped by an overwrought imagination.
While matters were thus shaping themselves, the wily old medicine man, Sitting Bull, bided his time watching for an opportunity to regain his former prestige. Vague traditions had always existed concerning the second coming of Christ. Pontiac, Tecumseh and Black Hawk were each in touch with a "prophet" who fired the imaginations of warriors and head chiefs to a frenzy.
So the sagacious leader believed that once more his hour had struck. Was not he, Sitting Bull, a great Medicine Man? A religious teacher? And shall he not lead his people in this? Clearly this was his opportunity, but in order to be an effectual leader, he must first see the Messiah. This he actually claimed to have done, and the story was related to Mr. Zook, a Montana ranchman, as follows:
"Sitting Bull was hunting one day near the Shoshone mountains, and as night came on he was seized with a strange feeling, and at first involuntarily, but finally with alacrity, he followed a star, which moved westward through the sky. All night the star guided him, and near morning he met the Messiah, clad in a white robe. His hair flowed upon his shoulders, his beard was long, and around his head shone a bright halo. When Sitting Bull beheld this wonderful apparition, he fainted and had a strange dream. A band of Cheyennes and Arapahoes, who had long since been dead, appeared to him and danced, inviting him to join them. Presently he was restored to his senses, and the Messiah spoke to him. He asked him if the Indians would not rejoice to see their dead kindred and the buffalo restored to life, and Sitting Bull assured him that they would be deeply gratified. Then the Messiah told him that he had come to save the white men, but that they persecuted him; and now he had come to rescue the long-tormented Indian. He showed him the holes in his hands, made by the nails when he was crucified, to convince him that he was the same Christ who had appeared nineteen hundred years ago. All day Christ instructed him and gave him evidence of his power. He said that the white men had come to take him, but as they approached the soil became quicksand and the men and horses sank. As evening came on, he bade Sitting Bull depart; and although he had been hunting away from his tepee for ten sleeps, he came to it in a very few minutes. He told his people his story and sent others to verify his statements, and they told the same tales."
When the Indians heard of this wonderful vision of Sitting Bull, they came in swarms and pitched their tepees around him. There, at his suggestion, they inaugurated the "worship dances," and forming a ring to the number of three thousand people, they danced around Sitting Bull and his chiefs, while chanting a monotonous accompaniment of weird strains. Thus they danced all night, or until they dropped down from sheer exhaustion, when others would take their place.
Sitting Bull soon became the acknowledged lender in this strange form of worship, which spread like wild fire among the Sioux of the reservations.
Indian Agent McLaughlin called on Sitting Bull at his camp on Grand River, forty miles southwest from Fort Yates, and had an earnest talk with the great medicine man, hoping to dissuade him and his deluded followers from their absurd action and unwarranted expectations.
Sitting Bull seemed a little impressed, but still assumed the role of big chief before his followers. "He finally," said McLaughlin, "made me a proposition, which was that I should accompany him on a journey to trace from the beginning the story of the Indian Messiah, and when he reached the last tribe, or where it originated, if they could not produce the man who started the story, and we did not find the new Messiah, as described, upon the earth, together with the dead Indians returning to reinhabit this country, he would return convinced that they (the Indians) had been too credulous and imposed upon, which report from him would satisfy the Sioux, and all practices of the ghost societies would cease; but if we found the Messiah, they be permitted to continue their medicine practices, and organize as they are now endeavoring to do.
"I told him that this proposition was a novel one, but that the attempt to carry it out would be similar to an attempt to catch up with the wind that blew last year, but that I wished him to come to my house, where I would give him a whole night, or a day and a night, in which time I thought I could convince him of the absurdity of this foolish craze, and the fact of his making me the proposition that he did was a convincing proof that he did not fully believe in what he was professing and he tried so hard to make others believe.
"He did not, however, promise fully to come into the agency to discuss the matter, but said he would consider my talk and decide after deliberation."
Nothing came of it, however, and when it was found that neither cajolery nor threats availed with Sitting Bull his arrest was determined on. It was held that his failure to send his children to the agency school, and to report in person, was a sufficient breach of peace to justify such a step.
The warrant for the arrest was sent in the form of the following telegram:
"Headquarters Department of Dakota,St. Paul, Minn., Dec. 12, 1890.
"To Commanding Officer, Fort Yates, North Dakota:
"The division commander has directed that you make it your especial duty to secure the person of Sitting Bull. Call on the Indian agent to cooperate and render such assistance as will best promote the purpose in view.
"Acknowledge receipt, and if not perfectly clear, report back.
"By command of General Ruger.
"(Signed) M. Barber,Assistant Adjutant-General."
After Colonel Drum, the commandant at Fort Yates, had consulted with Major McLaughlin, the Indian agent, it was decided that the arrest should be effected through the Indian police.
Accordingly, a band of police, under the command of Lieut. Henry Bull Head, was detailed to make the capture.
The Indian police, to the number of forty, set out to perform their errand, followed at some distance by two troops of cavalry under Captain Fetchet and a body of infantry, under Colonel Drum.
Five miles from Sitting Bull's camp, the troops and police held a consultation. It was agreed that the soldiers should station themselves within two or three miles of the Indian camp, where they could be readily signaled.
Lieutenant Bull Head now selected ten policemen, including Sergeants Shave Head and Red Tomahawk, and at their head entered the house about 5:50 o'clock on the morning of December 15, and arrested Sitting Bull. He occupied considerable time in dressing, and at first accepted his arrest quietly; but while dressing, his son, Crowfoot, commenced upbraiding him for agreeing to go with the police. On this Sitting Bull became stubborn and refused to go. After some parleying, the police removed him from the house and found themselves and prisoner in the midst of a howling mob of ghost-dancers, frenzied with rage.
Indian Villiage
In a letter written by Major McLaughlin we learn what happened at this time. Said he: "The policemen reasoned with the crowd, gradually forcing them back, thus increasing the open circle considerably; but Sitting Bull kept calling upon his followers to rescue him from the police; that if the two principal men, Bull Head and Shave Head, were killed, the others would run away; and he finally called out for them to commence the attack, whereupon Catch-the-Bear, and Strike-the-Kettle, two of Sitting Bull's men, dashed through the crowd and fired. Lieutenant Bull Head was standing on one side of Sitting Bull and Sergeant Shave Head on the other, with Sergeant Red Tomahawk behind, to prevent his escaping. Catch-the-Bear's shot struck Bull Head on the right side, and he instantly wheeled and shot Sitting Bull, hitting him in the left side, between the tenth and eleventh ribs, and Strike-the-Kettle's shot having passed through Shave Head's abdomen, all three fell together. Catch-the-Bear, who fired the first shot, was immediately shot down by Private Lone Man."
It is said that while reeling, Sitting Bull managed to draw a revolver, which exploded just as he fell, the ball entering Bull Head's thigh. At the same instant the second sergeant, Red Tomahawk, shot the old chief in the stomach.
The fight now became general, Sitting Bull's followers swarmed around the police and guns were clubbed. The ground was strewn with broken stocks and bent barrels.
The entire force of Indian police under Red Tomahawk now engaged in the fray, but were getting the worst of it and retreated to Sitting Bull's house. At this instant the white soldiers arrived and quickly formed for action.
The cavalry, under Captain Fechet, charged the Indians, while the artillery, under Lieutenant Brooks, began to shell them with their Hotchkiss and Gatling guns, and the hostiles fled in disorder.
Though badly wounded, Sitting Bull crawled into the bushes, and, like Custer before him, made his "last stand," fighting desperately with his Winchester. He was dragged forth and an Indian policeman sprang forward with a small pole, used on the sides of wagons, and beat in his head, while others broke his rifle over his head, and slashed his face horribly with their knives.
Lieutenant Slocum did all he could to prevent this brutality, but the Indian police were infuriated on account of their loss and beyond his control.
Thus died one of the greatest, and certainly the most famous, Indian since Tecumseh. He divides honors with Little Turtle, in having planned and gained the greatest victories ever achieved by the Indian over his white foe. Nor will any warrior of the future surpass Sitting Bull, for the last great battle between the two races has been fought. It will be remembered that three among the greatest of the Indian chiefs, Philip, Pontiac and Sitting Bull, were slain by Indians.
Many sensational writers profess to believe that Sitting Bull was murdered, and that when his arrest was arranged it was understood that an excuse was to be found for putting him out of the way.
We can not believe that our Government and military authorities would plot a deliberate and horrible murder. This has never been our record in disposing of vanquished foes. We firmly believe that had the great leader submitted to arrest quietly his life would have been spared. But it was Sitting Bull who alarmed the camp and ordered the attack, which was commenced by his own warriors.
The fight which resulted was brief but desperate, and there fell of the ghost-dancers, besides Sitting Bull, Catch-the-Bear, Black Bird, Little Assiniboine, Crow Foot (son of Sitting Bull, seventeen years old), Spotted Horse Bull, a chief; Brave Thunder, a chief, and Chase, badly wounded.
Of the police there were killed, Bull Head, the lieutenant in command; Shave Head, first sergeant; Little Eagle, fourth sergeant; Afraid-of-Soldiers, private; John Armstrong and Hawk Man, special police, and Middle, mortally wounded.
The bodies of the Indian police were all buried with military honors in the agency cemetery at Fort Yates a few days later. But the surviving police and their friends objected so strenuously to the interment of Sitting Bull among their dead that he was buried in the cemetery of the post, some distance away.
Hundreds of tourists go each year to see the last resting place of this truly great Indian; and, vandal-like, rob the grave and vicinity of whatever they can find, as relics.
Sitting Bull was an enigma, and never fully understood by white man or Indian. He prided himself, like all medicine men, in being mysterious; the fact that he was a true patriot, from the Indian's standpoint, none can question.
His old friend and fellow-chief, Rain-in-the-Face, was buried by his side. United during most of their stormy lives, it was appropriate that "in death they were not divided." Both sleep peacefully in the Indian cemetery of the Standing Rock Reservation. The name, Standing Rock, comes from a solitary stone which stands on the bank of the Missouri River at this point. Following is the legend:
Long years ago, probably before Columbus' caravels crossed to the western world, a Ree Indian took a Sioux squaw for his second wife. His first spouse, and mother of his child, could not brook the rival and daily pined in silence and sorrow. In vain her husband's assurances that she was still first in his heart and home. The sight of the usurper ate into her heart, and at last, with her babe on her shoulders, she fled as did Hagar with Ishmael, although in this case it was Sarah who left her husband's home. Her friends followed her, pleading with her to return, since only death and starvation awaited her, but she kept on her way until she reached the bank of the Missouri. There she sat with the child on her shoulders, paying no heed to her friends, until at last she broke her silence. "Leave me," she said. "I am turning to stone, and my child and I shall sit here forever." Even as she spoke the change came over her, and there the mother and child sit to-day. The Indians called the Standing Rock "wokan," or holy, and for centuries votive offerings were laid before it. The Government placed it upon a pedestal, and sphinx-like it looks toward the East, over the land from which the Indian has been driven forever.
THUNDER ROLLING IN THE MOUNTAINS—THE MODERN XENOPHON.
This remarkableman, and greatest Indian since Tecumseh, was born, according to his own statement, in eastern Oregon, in the year 1841.
In theNorth American Review,of April, 1879, is an article dictated by Joseph, in which he states that his tribe was originally called the Chute-pa-lu, and gives the origin of the name Nez Perces (nose pierced), as applied to them, as follows:
"We did not know there were other people besides the Indian until about one hundred winters ago, when some men with white faces came to our country. They brought many things with them to trade for furs and skins. They brought tobacco, which was new to us. They also brought guns with flint stones on them, which frightened our women and children.
"Our people could not talk with these white-faced men, but they used signs which all people understand. These men were Frenchmen, and they called our people 'Nez Perces,' because they wore rings in their noses for ornaments. Although very few of our people wear them now, we are still called by the same name.
"The first white men of your people who came to our country were named Lewis and Clark. They also brought many things our people had never seen. They talked straight and our people gave them a great feast, as proof that their hearts were friendly. These men were very kind. They made presents to our chiefs and our people made presents to them. We had a great many horses, of which we gave them what they needed, and they gave us guns and tobacco in return. All the Nez Perces made friends with Lewis and Clark, and agreed to let them pass through their country, and never to make war on white men. This promise the Nez Perces have never broken. No white man can accuse them of bad faith and speak with a straight tongue. It has always been the pride of the Nez Perces that they were the friends of the white men."
Chief Joseph's father was also a chief, and called Joseph. It seems that this name was given to him by Rev. Mr. Spaulding, who was associated with Dr. Marcus Whitman, and at one time a missionary to the lower Nez Perces.
A strange man was old Joseph, a sturdy, strong-built man with a will of iron and a foresight that never failed him, save when he welcomed the Americans to his country. He had some strange notions, too, one of which was that "no man owned any part of the earth, and a man could not sell what he did not own." He seems to have been an aboriginal Henry George in his idea that ownership in land should be limited to occupancy.
In 1855 Governor Stevens and Rev. Mr. Spaulding invited all the Nez Perces to a treaty council. Old Joseph was present, and when Mr. Spaulding urged him to sign the treaty, he answered, "Why do you ask me to sign away my country? It is your business to talk to us about spirit matters, and not to talk to us about parting with our land."
When Governor Stevens also urged him to sign the treaty he refused, saying, "I will not sign your paper; you go where you please, so do I; you are not a child. I am no child; I can think for myself. No man can think for me. I have no other home than this. I will not give it up to any man. My people would have no home. Take away your paper, I will not touch it with my hand!"
Old Joseph was as firm as a rock and would never sign way his rights to Wallowa (Winding Water), claiming that it had always belonged to his people and their title should be perpetuated. He even went so far as to enclose the entire tract with poles firmly planted in the ground, and said, "Inside this boundary is the home of my people. The white man may take the land outside. Within this boundary all our people were born. It circles around the graves of our fathers, and we will never give up these graves to any man."
Deluded old Joseph! Vain was your effort; nor would a Chinese wall have long been an effectual barrier against the encroachments of the whites, who had seen and coveted the beautiful valley of the "Winding Waters." Ere long white settlers established homesinsidethe boundaries of the aged chief, in spite of his remonstrance. And the United States Government, instead of protecting him in his rights, coolly claimed that it had bought all the Nez Perces country outside of Lapwai reservation from Chief Lawyer and others.
On account of these encroachments another treaty was made in 1863. By this time old Joseph had become blind and feeble, and could no longer speak for his people. It was then that young Joseph took his father's place as chief, and made his first speech to white men. Said he to the agent who held the council: "I did not want to come to this council, but I came, hoping that we could save blood. The white man has no right to come here and take our country. We have never accepted any presents from the Government. Neither Lawyer nor any other chief had authority to sell this land. It has always belonged to my people. It came unclouded to them from our fathers, and we will defend this land as long as a drop of Indian blood warms the hearts of our men."
The agent told Joseph he had orders from the Great White Chief at Washington for his band to go upon the Lapwai Reservation, and that if they obeyed he would help them in many ways. "Youmustmove to the agency," he said. To which Joseph replied, "1 will not. I do not need your help; we have plenty, and we are contented and happy if the white man will let us alone. The reservation is too small for so many people with all their stock. You can keep your presents; we can go to your towns and pay for all we need; we have plenty of horses and cattle to sell, and we won't have any help from you; we are free now; we can go where we please. Our fathers were born here. Here they lived, here they died, here are their graves. We will never leave them." The agent went away, and the Indians had peace for a little while.
In his narrative young Joseph said, "Soon after this my father sent for me. I saw he was dying. I took his hand in mine. He said: 'My son, my body is returning to my mother earth, and my spirit is going very soon to see the Great Spirit Chief. When I am gone, think of your country. You are the chief of these people. They look to you to guide them. Always remember that your father never sold his country. You must stop your ears whenever you are asked to sign a treaty selling your home. A few years more and white men will be all around you. They have their eyes on this land. My son, never forget my dying words. This country holds your father's body. Never sell the bones of your father and your mother.' I pressed my father's hand and told him I would protect his grave with my life. My father smiled and passed away to the spirit land. I buried him in that beautiful valley of 'Winding Waters.' I love that land more than all the rest of the world. A man who would not love his father's grave is worse than a wild animal."
Spoken like the noble son of an equally noble sire. Inspired by such words of burning patriotism, is it any wonder that young Joseph resisted the encroachments of the whites and the machinations of the Government authorities to the bitter end, and not only gave them "a run for their money," but the most stubbornly contested campaign of all our Indian wars?
Chief Joseph, of the Nez Perces, was more than six feet in height, of magnificent physique, strikingly handsome and graceful, with a native dignity, and a mind of great strength. He was a true patriot and in defense of his country evinced the genius of a natural born general, and could he have received the training of West Point, he would have become the peer of Grant, Lee or Sherman. He conducted, as will be seen, one of the most skilful and masterly retreats in the annals of warfare.