.;cj^\y^» -N- ^<<^ ^<^...^^ ^^^^'.J^^^Sp ^^^':^^^% "^^^'jm^S^ ^^ .^^ \.»' ■- \. ,# ■•' <. • >.o^ ■^^d< .^^"-^ ;rfif ,-«^ °-^ 9=. ».;*" vv " • ^ \V V . „ j_(lf •'• oV^^'^^' kf -^ -.-V^^^ .^^ ^^.•^^ cp^^^i;^^/'^^ ^^:^e;;^^% ^^'^^f% iV ■ SON OF THE STAR. SKETCHES FRONTIER ^ INDIAN ON THE L'^''*^ 28 mS UPPER MISSOURI & GREAT PLAINS. EMBRA^OING THE AUTHOR'S PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF NOTED FRONTIER CHARACTERS AND SOME OB- SERVATIONS OF WILD INDIAN LIFE DURING A TWENTY-FIVE YEARS RESIDENCE IN THE TWO DAKOTAS' AND OTHER TERRITORIES BE- TWEEN THE YEARS 1864 AND 1889. BY JOSEPH HENRY TAYLOR, AUTHOB OF "twenty TEABS ON TME TBAP LINE," KTO. SKCOND KDITION-KNLARGEl) AND IMPROVED. Washburn, N. D. rKINTED AND rUBLISHEl) BY THE AUTHOR. 1895, COPYRIGHT, 1889 AND 1895, BY JOSEPH HENRY TAYLOR. CONTENTS. PAGE FIRST GROUP. MASSACRE ON BURNT CREEK BAR ^^ 24 A FATED WAR PARTY - ' 30 BUMMER DAN --------*■ THE SCALPLESS WARRIOR AND DAUGHTER 35 THE GREAT PLAINS IN 1864 AND 1865 *^ - fifl FORT BERTHOLD AGENCY IN 1869 - ------ 72 FORT PHIL KEARNEY A MEDICINE SNAKE'S CATASTROPHE 76 A RIFT IN THE CLOUDS - - - - ^^ AROUND GRAND RIVER AGENCY IN 1869 86 93 A WAR WOMAN ----- ■ SECOND GROUP. EARLY DAYS AROUND FORT BUFORD - - - 107 A WAR PARTY OF THREE - - - - ^^' LEGEND OF THE PAINTED WOODS - - - - - 131 THE LETTER IN CIPHER BULL BOATING THROUCm THE SIOUX COUNTRY - - - - " 13^ - U7 LONESOME CHARLEY ------ - 167 EDITOR KELLOGC; - - " ' 174 INDIAN MOTHERS ----- SOME INCIDENTS OF INDIAN WAKFAKE 187 WITH A GROS VENTRE WAR PARTY 199 THE PEACEMAKERS 2C7 THIRD GROUP. THE DOCTOR 21J THE RENEGADE CHIEF 224 BUCKSKIN JOE 238 McCALL THE MINER 250 FORT TOTTEN TRAIL - - 260 FROM WEST TO EAST 278 JOSEPH 11. TAYLOR. PREFACE rO SECOND EDITION. ^ FEW of the sketches of this work were orig- inally written bv the author and published in the Woodstown (N. J. ) Register and Dakota Herald of Yankton, as early as 187:!, under the general title of '-Wild Western Life,'' but it was not until the autumn of 11^89, in the conservatory of the Hart- vauft mansion. Pottstown, Pennsylvania, with the help of a rotary job press, that we made our first attempt at book making in the publication of the original edition of -Frontier and Indian Life. A^s the limited first edition was long smce ex- hausted in the neighborhood of its publication the author and publisher renews upon a larger ana we may venture to hope, an improvement m the pres- ent'over the original edition. Many of the skecches of the first work ore omitted and others substi- tuted which more nearly conform to the books title and of more interest as following historical lines of the period on the plains, in which our char- acters herein chronicled, were prominent actors. The gathering of materials for this work com- menced with the observation and information ;.!eane:l from a term of soldiering on the Iowa aiKl Minnesota border in the latter part of l^b.; ; tvi. up Platte river valley in winter and a journey- u, Fo.tkndallandup Dakota river in the spring of ,0,1. .,u overUuid trip a.-ross the plams to Colorado ■'„rN;.v.- XV-vico .a 18«34-5; a residence m Kan- ,', ' V -M— ;'<•! in Isnc-T. and a continuous resi- ""''"''■'■.," .'lio '{>•"'. D •.'.•ot:vs from the latter date until FIRST GROUP < 5 O MASSACRE ON BURNT CREEK BAR. ACROSS the mighty arch spanning the River Missouri, on the Northern Pacific line, peo- ple daily pass and repass serenely, hundreds of feet above the swirling waters, famed since human kind first setded upon its banks as "the river that never voluntarily gives up its dead." The jarring of the bumpers; grating ot iron wheels and gliding on by the iron knit stanchions, help remove that insecure feeling which otherwise might possess the passen- ger in the ride across this river, high up in air. To a tourist visiting the lands of the Upper Missouri for the first time, the crossing of this stream is an event of inter:^st, and indeed, it is never mono- tonous, not even to the irainmen w^hose duty it is lo cross and recross over the huge structure daily. Once upon the bridge seated in the moving car, the passenger whose window will allow a glance up stream, can view about one half mile away, on ihe east bank the southermost point of a grove of timber that extends as far as the eye can see. A low lying sand bar skirts the timber for two or three miles. Strange is the Missouri's record of chang- ing of water channels; changing of banks and bars; changing even of timbered points that dis- appear as in a day, and the surging current or some bare desert of sand alone mark the site. But iM<()N'n EK AND IM)IA.\ LiFF the line of timber we have just described — Burnt Creek Bar — remains much the same that it did in the early days of August, 1863. The bar has widened some since that date — the waters recede- ing. But a little narrow shoot that cut through the bar in 1^63, is closed; tempests of sand had rubbed out its sinuous lines as completely as though it were figures sponged from a slate. Now we will go back to the beginning of this chronicle — or at least — the beginning of the end. One day in the early part of July, 1863, there glided out from the Fort Benton landing a well built flat bottomed boat containing in all tv, enty men, one woman and baby, and one litile girl. They were, for the most part, successful miners, had made their fortunes among the rich placer mines, known in those days as Bannock. To par- ties at Fort Benton at the time of launching, and who were familiar with some of the miners, said that in addition to what each of these intending voya- gers carried around their bodies in belts, ^90,000 in dust was placed in prepared augur holes and tightly plugged in the stanchions of the boat. A small cabin was built as shelter for the woman, her baby and the little girl. As the boat sped swiftly along down the rapid stream, propelled by oars in its intervals of slug- gishness, or pushed forward with the swiftness of a wounded duck in a favoring breeze. The home sick miners and this lone woman had little to oc- cupy their thoughts in their cramped room save Massacre on Buknt Creek Bar. 14 day dreams of the coming joy and welcome in their first and best homes. They could tell of their long trials and adventures in savage lands; could show heaps of glittering gold, as the price of past denials and purchase of future comforts in the new lile of indolence and ease. No dark shadow, no bony finger; no feverish dream; no knocks of warning as far as we may know, stayed the hands or lent dismal, uncanny thoughts in the minds of this mountain crew as they rode on towards the realm bordering shadowy lands. On the 8th day of August the boat reached Fort Berthold. They landed to purchase some sup- plies. They were here warned by F. F. Girard, the trader in charge, that it would be dangerous to attempt to pass through the Painted Woods coun- try at the time, as Sibley's army had driven the Sioux to the Missouri at that place, and Aricaree runners reported them encamped amons: the tim- ber bends on both sides of the river. A consul- tation was held on the boat and it was finally con- cluded this was a trader's ruse to hold them there for extortion purposes. An old grey headed man dressed in black, dissented, though he said but little. The boat crew drifted out of sight of Fort Berthold on the afternoon of the 9th. They were joined at departure by a Canadian-Frenchman, an ex-employee of the American Fur Company, and familiar with Indian ways. It has been asserted, in this man's possession was the key of a great mys- tery. If so, the key is lost and seal unbroken. 15 Fkontikr and Indian Life. That evening they encamped near the ruins of old Fort Clark, one of the first Indian trading- posts along the Upper Missouri. The balmy Au- gust breeze played about the sleepers, nnder the moon's shade at the old ruins. The noisy swirls on the river; the hooting owls — lone guardians of these decaying habitations where misery and death had so long mutually sat in imperious sway in the fear haunted old homes of the Mandans and Aricarees. The cool grey light of morning bid the boat crew cooks prepare the breakfast, and even before the bright light of the morning sun glist- ened on their oar blades, they had rounded the high bluff and cut banks that mark the creek "where the Crows and Gros Ventres parted," and stood out upon an open river facing the distant domes of the Square Buttes, and the eagerly looked for. though dreaded Painted Woods came to their view. During the summer and autumn of 1868, while publishing the Dakota Democrat, at Yankton the old Territorial capital, anci as occasional correspon- dent for the Chicago Times, I made frequent trips in the interest of these two publications among the lower Sioux agencies and some of the miliiary posts established in the territory contingent th^Te- to. Among the most interesting of the agencies at this time was the Santee Sioux, established on the east'bank of the Missouri river, and a few miles below where the rapid Niobrara empties its Massacre on Burnt Creek Bar. i6 waters in this inland artery. It was this tribe that was responsible for the Indian outbreak of 1862, in the northwest prairie region, and commonly known as the "Minnesota massacre." A large majority of the remnants of the tribe here gath- ered were woman and children, the males having principally fallen at the hands ot avenging troops that hunted them down wheresoever they had fled after the destrucdon of the settlers of western Minnesota. By some chance I became acquainted with a small, middle aged, light complexioned and very intelligent Santee u^oman, known as Red Blanket. Like many others of that tribe she had passed through a terrible ordeal since the morning of the 1 8th of August, 1S62. In her verbal chronicle of those days, I became interested in her version of the massacre of the mining crew at the mouth of Burnt creek in the early days of August, 1863. For reasons unnecessairly to explain, I noted the woman's story down with ink and pen which have hertofore remained among my unpublished re- cords. In placing it in English I have endeavored to convey her simple linguistic style from the San- tee. We will now let her tell the story: ''When Sibley's soldiers started back up Apple creek, our chiefs and head men commenced to look about them. We had many camps scattered along Heart river and some on Square Buttes creek. We found no buffalo and but few elk and deer, the Uncpapas, who had been living there, 17 FkoNTIKK ANT) L\I)IAN LiFE. scar(Kl or killed everything. Three days after the soldiers disappeared we commenced recrossing- the big river at the foot of the high bluffs. Buf- falo were plenty on the east side and that was why we returned. We made a large camp in a deep coulee facing the river with some timber and a long sand bar in front of some low willows. Be- side our own (Shockape's) band were many lodges of both Yanktonevs and Sissetons. I think it was six days after our return, that in the company of several women, we went to the river to bathe and wash some clothes. There was a narrow, switr running shute near shore, and beyond this a hid- den bar, then deep water again. On this morning at the entrance of the shute from main ri\er. si: an old man — a Sisseton — fishing. The morning was calm, l^p the river we could hear voices and the sound of paddles. After somj^ time a largc^ boat full of people came to view and were drift ing near shore. We saw that they were white people, when we started to run away. At thi ; time they were near rifle shot of the old man. He arose and made the blanket signal to keep out in the main stream. Next came a pufi oi .^moke and a rifle report from the boat and then the old man fell over. Then we all screamed and ran until we met our husbands and bnvdiers wiih dien* guns, bows and arrows. Then us women hid in the edge of the bushes. The long boat stopped in shalknv water at the entrance ot the narrow Massacre on Burnt Creek Bar. i8 channel. More of our people came swarming out from the timber and the shooting became almost continuous, when the loud report of cannon irom the boat scared us all. We were afraid soldiers from Sibley's army might be coming again upon us, the one loud report sounded over and over so many times. Then came what we feared — woun- ded and dying men. We, woman picked and car- ried many from the bar to the lodges up the cou- lee. One woman was killed in trying to save her husband. I had a brother killed; it sent my heart to the ground. Several of our fighters procured loo-s and rolled across the bar toward the boat, firing from behind. Others screened along the cut bank of the shute. It was the middle of the after- noon when some one shouted that the old white man dressed in i3lack had fallen. It was he who had killed so many of our people. He hid in one corner of the boat. He would rise at times and look abont him. Our warriors believed he was a priest or medicine man. When the shout went up that the medicine man was killed every one rushed upon the boat. All were not yet dead but we soon killed them. One woman was found under the big box; dragged forth and cut to pie- ces with knives. She looked terrified but did not cry. A crying baby was taken from her arms and killed. I did not see the little girl, though she might have been dvTe, for all I would know. I help kill the woman. They had killed my brother. 19 FkoNriEK AND Il\l)IAN LllE The boat was half filled with water. The one shot from the cannon had caused it to l?ak and sink in shallow water, and that is why they stayed until all were dead. But the strangest of all is yet to come. The dead body of the man in black was no where to be found. In the same corner of the boat lay the body of a man with same such face — white whiskers, and long white locks of hair. But he lay dressed in blood spatterd yel- low buckskin shirt and pants. We stripped many bodies of their clothes, and in so doing found belts of what we thought was wet or bad powder. It was thrown away. We lost near thirty men alto- gether. Some did not die right away but those who did were placed in the trees beyond the village. The old Sisseton went to his death trying to .save trouble and lives by warning the boatmen to put out in the main stream, that they might quietly pass by unnoticed. The .white men mistook the mo- tive, perhaps, so killed him and paid forfeit by losing their own lives. Those who know ihe Sis- seton best, say this was the moiive that impelled the signal. After many days crying for our dead,. we separated and went many ways. Our band went to the Devil's Lake." Thus concluded the Santee woman, as unfold ing the Indian verson of the massacre of the miners on Burnt Creek Bar, and cause that led thereto. Massacre on Burnt Creek Bar. 20 In the autumn of 1876, while takin^^ a few days hunting trip west of the Missouri, I was joined at the Square Buttes by two lodges of Aricarees. These consisted of the families and some friends ol two brothers — high up in the tribe — known as the Whistling Bear and Sitting Bull. Among the party was a partly educated Aricaree woman called by her white acquaintances, "Long Hair Mary." She had a fair command of English picked up in a Mission. While encamped at the mouth of Deer creek several days, game was so plentiful that but little exertion was required to get all the deer, an- telope or elk meat wanted. During an interval of leasure, and not being very proficient in the Aricaree tongue, I called on the good offices of Mary to assist in the interpretation of the following statement from the Whistling Bear, concerning the concluding events immediately following the massacre of the miners on Burnt Creek Bar: "About two weeks after the white men be- longing to the boating party were killed on Burnt Creek Bar, some Uncpapa friends of the Mandans came into our village at Fort Berthold and told us about it Girard the trader, being my brother-in- law, and to whom I consulted about the Uncpapas' story, advised my getting together a small band of trusty men and go hunt up the place where the fight took place. He explained further, that un- less some of the Sioux knew gold dust by the color, there must be abundant gold dust, either 2 1 Frdniiek and Indian Life. laying about among effects in the boat or in belt.; upon the bodies of the slain and then I was shown a sample so that no mistake would be made. In the early morning of the closing days of the "cherry moon," we left our village at Fort Ber- thold for the perilous trip. There were ten of us in all. We followed the banks of the winding river close, and on the third day we noticed the soaring of buzzards on the river near the mouth of Burnt Creek. Not a breeze was blowing, nor a cloud in all the blue sky. A misty line of fog, that followed the curved line of the channel wa- ters at sunrise, rose high in air as we reached the sand bar at Burnt Creek. The big black appearing boat was seen at last. It was partly sunken. We saw no cannon. The bodies of the dead, partly dismembered were being led upon by buzzards. Upon some of them we found belts filled with gold dust. Other bodies near by, the sacks or belts of buckskin had been cut open and contents spilled upon the sand. At the boat we found a coffee pot which we filled with gold dust. There were no Sioux seen. We visited their deserted carKp in the coulee back from the timber grove. In the trees were many blanketed dead. We then made our way back to our village at Fort Ber- thold. To Girard we gave the gold. He in turn presented me with a large horse, and a few pres- ents and a feast to my companions of the journey." With this close the story of Whistling Bear in Massacre on Burnt Creek Bar. 22 connection with the gold of the ill-fated miners. Big John and the Soldier two worthy Aricarees withli long number of years to their credit in the Government service as scouts, made several hunt- ing trips— in their younger days— along the bot- tom lands of Burnt Creek. Over a year after the tragedy on the sand bar the boat of the murder- edlninerslay embedded in the sand, and to this day far down in its sand covered grave it yet re- mains, and will abide until the Missouri at that point again changes its sand devouring course or the greed of gold raise willing hands to uncover the undisturbed and unclaimed gold secreted in the buried boat's rugged stanchions. Little Crow, Leadkr of the Santee Sioux Outbreak^ 18G2. A FATED WAR PARTY. WHEN Lewis and Clark, and party of explor- ers ascended the Missouri river in 1804, the)- encamped for a few days near where the city of Council Bluffs, now stands. While at this en- campment they diligently inquired of the names of the neicrhborint,^ Indian nations or tribes, and of their numbers, condition and customs, more espe- cially those wild ones west of the Missouri, and bordering along the river Platte. Their descrip- tion and observations of many of these rovers, of even that comparatively late day, show that in the past as at present, extermination or absorbtion of the American aboriginal nations goes gradually on. . , Among other tribes described in Lewis and Cku-k's journal, was the Staitansor Flyers, a band at the: time numbering not more than one hundred men A few years after that datt: even these were exterminated, but just what tribe became execu- tioners has nexer been clearly established, though iheir rubbing out without much doubt happened alon^r the banks of Lodge Pole creek, a small stre-ain putting into the Platte river, near the forks. Here a large number of human bones were found some little'lime after the known disappearance ot the Flyers from off the face of the plains. 2 5 1m<()M"ikj< AM) Lnkian 1.1 m:. These Staitans were the most warHke and fero- cious of all the American Indians of whom we have any record. They werc^ the best mounted as well as the best horseman of the plains, and moved with the buffalo in their migrations ; laying no claim to territory where buffalo were not found and all coimtry within the immediate range of the moving herds. They were in truth, the red Ish- maelites of the interior American wilderness. — Their hands were against ever)- people not of their own, and every tribe on the range regarded the defiant Staitans as an uncompromising and in- veterate foe. The Staitan Indian never yielded in battle To meet an enemy was to fight him, to conquer him, or to die. They never spared an enemy on ac- count of age or sex. Their women rode in the ranks at every battle, and fought as her mate fought and was as merciless and unsparing as he. To a people whose chosen virtues are courage and endurance, these bold Staitans were at once the fear and the wonder. Before their extermina- tion even, certain societies or war bands within the government of several of the Indian tribes of the west organized in partial imitation of the fighting codes of these Flyers of the open plains. To have the unwavering courage of a Staitan was the loft- iest ambition a warrior could aspire to, and to be likened unto one, the highest complimc'nt his van- ity could reach out for. A Fated War Pari v. 26 Arolm) and about the country where the Riviere Du Lac empties its waters into the Mouse river, there formerly resided and claimed the soil, the "Band of Canoes" one of the three bands of the South Assinaboine. This Band of Canoes, while havini^ nomadic habits in summer days, usually passed the greater part of the winter season in some timbered belt along this river of the lakes. Here the pickeral and other fish swim up from out of Lake Winnepeg in vast shoals, and by cut- ting holes through the ice a plentiful supply could be obtained by them, and with the herds of deer, antelope and buffalo that formerly roamed there, a food supply of unceasing plenty was the happy fortunes of these Band of Canoes. While these Indians were not particularly of a warlike nature, yet like most tribes, they kept a few war parties occasionally out on the skirmish line. To the north they had a sometime enemy in the Cree, while to the south they occasionally ex- changed words and war raids with the Gros Ven- tres and the Mandans Like some of the tribes on the plains south of them, this Band of Canoes had exclusive groups or "clubs" with separate totems for adoration or worship. L\ midwinter, 1822, Tall Bull, a Band of Canoe war chief who widi his followers had chosen the \alorous Staitans as the objects of imitation, left his comfortable quarters on the Mouse river, at the head of twenty-two braves, and travelled south- .27 Frontier and Indian Life. west over the hUAi dividino ridoes between that stream and the headwaters of the Upper or Little Knife river. While here floundering throueh the snow, one of th(t warriors accidently broke his scalping knife. Now, the breaking of a knife blade is as much of a sign of ill-omen, and impending disaster to the wild Indian as was the breaking of a sword blade or a lance point to the sturdy knight errant in the days of the Cid, Aben Hassen or El Chico, in the Gothic and Moorish contests of mountainous Spain. What was to be done ? The unchangeable oath of a Staitan was never turn to the right or left on a war raid. Never turn back without iirst striking the enemy, and never call a halt while the prospect was almost sure for meeting them in the direct; line of their pathway. A parry was attempted with Fate. The un- lucky knife breaker was sent home in disgrace, and facino- a blinding snow storm, the balance con- tinned forward. That winter is on record as one ot the cokU^st ever experienced in ihit Upper Missouri country, so say the oldest of its native red inhabitants. During one of the worst of the many January storms thereat recordc^d, the buflalo herds left the hio-h prairie, and sought sht^ller among the broken hills along the river, and even crowded upon the bottom lands and among the limbered Lends. In this way they became an easy prey to Indian hunt- A Fated War Party. 28 ers and were slaughtered unmercifully by them. Near the Counted Woods a few miles below Lake Mandan, a large hunting party of Gros Ven- tres and Mandans, while engaged in making a sur- round for killing the helpless brutes, saw strange objects coming down from the high prairies. They were obscured from view at times by drifting snow but on nearer approach proved to be Indians. They were straggling along on foot and seemed bewildered and lost. They were coming too, like the animals, for the shelter of the bottom lands. They dragged along in apparent helplessness, through the snow; their arms hanging stiffly by their sides. The intense cold, seemingly made them oblivious to everything around them. In the meantime the Mandan and Gros Ventre hunters had suspended the buflklo chase and were prepanng to surround the intrusive newcomers whom on approaching, had refused to signal the sign of the friend. Seeing escape impossible, even if desired, and their benumbed and helpless condition a bar to resistance if they would, the apparent leader of the strangers, spoke out in clear tones in the As- sinaboine tongue ;- "Follow me !" and pushed on forward. Uhey walked out upon the frozen ice of the Missouri, pressed on all sides by their bantering and taunting foes, who though many times their numbers, had as yet failed to close upon their silent, half famished and half-frozen prey. 29 Frontier and Indian Life. In their front was an air hole through the ice, that owing to the swift cirding current of the water, had withstood the severest tests of the cold and remained open. With a defiant tread the hunted leader of the strangers walked up and into the circling waters, and w^ithout a struggle disappeared. In turn, and in sinofle file — like the buffalo to his drink, — each followed his .chieftain's fatal tracks, and in quick succession made the plunge that took them for- ever from the reach of their baffled and surprised enemies. Thus perished Tall Bull and all of his fated war party of the South Assinaboine Band of Can- oes and last of the imitators of the Staitan or Fly- inor Indians. P5 m ft I fa O ;?: h^ H O H :^^-;a^ '^%'r' \i' • ' ijj,i| 1 1 Clj, 1/ 1 11^ M li Ml kt, "^^^W^^^^ BUMMSR DAH. t FEW miles north of Omaha, Nebraska, on A the river road, there nestles on a plain near alow sloping blufi; the pretty Httle hamlet of Flor- ence. It had been a business town ol some fame before the former cit>- was thought of. It was here on the flats surrounding the village that many hundreds of the Latter Day Saints or Mormons rested and recruited after their expulsion from their temple at Nauvoo. by Illinois militia in 1846, before making final ready for their long journey across the Great Plains and over the Rocky range to their future homes in ihe "Land of Deseret.' During the early days of the construction ot the Union Pacific railroad, the ordinary quiet of the little village was sometimes rudely disturbed by passing gangs of raftsmen and tie cutters in the railroads employ, who were in permanent camp in the forests around the neighboring village of Kockport. On one occasion during the early summer ot ,866 the writer belated, had occasion to put tip one" evening at the ptiblic stopping place m the viUaov Sometime during the night I was awak- enecT by loud cries and confused sounds coming from the direction of a camp of lumberman near 31 Frontier and Indian Lifp:. by who had also occasion to pass the night at Florence. By the Hght of the new moon's pale and unsteady beams, a crowd of men were seen beating and kicking by turns, an apparently friendless man lying upon the ground in the centre of the maddened throng. He was altern- ately groaning in pain or shrieking with fright and calling aloud for mercy. The injured man was finally rescued by the village constable and taken out of harm's way. He had been accused of steal- ing a blanket from one of the party to cover his almost naked body from the crisp night air. He was moneyless and friendless — a conjunction of circumstances by no means unusual to a wander- ing tramp on the public highway. The whole party came before the town justice next morning, and a curiosity born of the spectral scene of the previous night prompted my atten- dance. In the disfigured and swollen-faced form setting in the prisoner's dock before me, I was surprised to see the fam.iliar features of Bummer Dan whom 1 ha.d often seen on the~ streets of Denver and other Rocky Mountain towns. The examination proved my surmise correct, and on the Justice being informed who his prisoner was, he discharged him with the injunction to move on his way. Bummer Dan ! What strange thoughts th?.t homely name conjures up in memory's train ! Oh, weary and unfortunate wanderer, how many a BlMMKR 1) \N kick — how man) a cuff put upon you — your blotched countenance and scarred body bear wit- ness ' What curses have been heaped after you and around you old man. as you trudged slowly along life's pathway — a route to you ever dark and ever dreary ! Oh, Goddess Fortuna what pranks ! .\re the bates ever proclaiming : "What is to be, will be ? " In the year 1858. gold was discovered in paying quantities near Pike's IVak, Colorado, and from th(' far east and south, came swarms of adventur- ers to meet on common ground within the shad- ows of that great snow capped dome, the bronzed gold hunters from California and other Pacific ranges. From these defiles of the mountains of Colo- rado, roving parlies branched out and followed the windings of the deep canons or surmounted the barriers of ihe rocky walls, from the fiery summits of P'opocateptl on the south, to the frozen regions of the arctic. One of these determined and reckless prospect- ing parlies, after hardships that tested their pow- ers of enduranc(t to the uttermost tension, found themselves in tht- early summer of 1862, explor- ing the cormtry about the headwaters of the Mis- souri and Yellowstone rivers, when a lucky find placed I hem in possession of mines near the fa- mous X'irginia gulch, one of the solid stones in Montana's after prosperity. 2)^ F'roxtier AM) Indian Life. With this party of prospectors was a vigorous, able bodied and generous hearted Irishman, who had been the life of his party during its sorest trials. He was known by name as Daniel McMa- hon, and at their first streaks of success he staked down a good claim which proved a veritable home- stake, as he soon after found a ready purchaser who allowed hirii therefor, eighty thousand dollars in good honest gold. "Now\ Daniel McMahon," some invisible spirit seemed to w^hisper softly to him in his moments of ease and quiet, "your fcfi'tune has came to ybu at last and your weary labors are over. Away, then, over the ereat ocean to the o-reen Island of vour childhood. Your old father and your mother there are ever praying and hoping for the return of their wandering son. They are old and careworn now, and the sight of your ruddy face and manly form would give them good cheer. And there is another over there, who has almost counced the hours and days in the long dreary years of your absence; but whose heart is ever true to you — ever lingers in realms of fadeless hope — as on that day you gave her your last farewell. Away, Daniel McMahon, away. A successful mining camp is generally a noisy one. Miners coming in, and miners going out, like an active swarm of bee> in a season of flow- ers. This mining camp near Virginia gulch was no exception. BiMMKR Dan. 34 After the sale - of his mine. Daniel McMahon bustled around among his comrades and friends, until he had provided himself with a traveling out- fit to. hie himself below Boseman's ferry, where he hoped to overtake a party of miners encamped there, and who were preparing to return by flat- boat down the Yellowstone and Missoui^i rivers, on their passage to the States. Two other miners— hke himself being home- ward bound, would accompany him on his pro- posed trip. After a leave taking and many ''wish ' you a safe journey" from their friends at Virginia, the three peacefully and'quiedy wended their way down the valley and out of the sight of the camps. A day later, and still another party left the gulch for th€ same destination, and on the same trail— At a lonely-looking point on the mountains below Boseman's. this last party came upon a mart lying near the roadway, unconscious ^nd breathing in labored moans. Upon examination, the wounded man proved to be McMahon. He had evidently been robbed by his two late companions of all his wealth, and with his head battered out of shape by bludgeon left for dead, and better— far better for him— that death had spread around him its dark mantle and closed the egress of his earthly future. But the Fates were not done with him yet. — Ihere he lay— yesterday the wealthy and popular miner ; to-day. uncounscious, — a blank ; and to- morrow — Butiimer I )an. THE SCALPLSSS WARRIOR AND DAUaHTSR. THERE was an old custom among ihe wild tribes of the northern plains, that when a warrior was struck down in battfe by the enemy, scalped and yet survive, he must never allow his kindred or members of his tribe to see his tace again. A coward in battle may lose cast for a time, his seat in the council house may become \acant or be filled by another — his painted face and form no longer seen at the war* dance — or in extreme cases he may be forced to don a woman's dress ; l)ut with these exceptions his home lile goes smoothly and joyfully on. But a warrior though brave as an Achilles or as reckless as an Ajax in bloody combat, who tails in the front of the fighting line and his reeking for- lock torn from his head in the tumult, and yet arise from the ground a living man, — he must for- ever wander, like the coyote or the wolt. among fastnesses of the mountain defiles or the hiding places of the desert, to shun and be shunned by the humans of the earth. Woe. woe then, to the scalpless brave. One summer's day about the year 1S45, — so the Aricarees say — an outpost of six of dial tribe while on duty near their \illage at old b'ori Clark, were attacked by a war party of nordiern Sioux, and The Sc'alplkss Warrior and Daughter. 36 most of the guards were struck down, scalped and mutilated. The surviving members of the band Hed to their home, spread the alarm, and in company of a wailing concourse of friends returned to care for the dead. Their astonishment was great on coming to the ground where they had witnessed the killing, scalp- ing and mutilation of a comrade, nothing but clots of blood, and parts of his hands and teet lying dismembered there. The body proper could not be found. As the place w?us dangerous- from prowling bands of their enemies, the Aricaree mourners, after making such disposition of the dead as their custom allowed, hastened back to the main village and told their slory. The medicine men when appealed to for answer, gave only a gloomy shake of the head. . It' was about three years after the events here related, that a camp of South Assinaboines came to the Mandan, Gros Ventres and Aricaree villages on a mission of peace. They complained that some of their people were being . mysteriously mur- dered in unlooked for places ; that no sign of an enemy could be seen, save a track that seemed of neither man or beast. The Aricarees, now, also called to mind that strange and unaccountable tracks had been seen around their own village, which invarably led out upon the open plain. These tracks were seen 37 Frontier and Indian Life. upon the early morning dew and disappeared widi the rising sun. All of these mysteries were in a manner ex- plained sometime later by an adventurous hunUng party of Aricarees, who in beating up the game in one of the most inaccessible districts in the Little Missouri bad lands, came unexpectedly upon an opening to a strange looking den, in which were scattered about the bones of horses, elk, deer, antelope and wolves in great heaps, as well as some bones that seemed of the human kind. And what would seem more strange to the now terrified discoverers, was the strange imprints on the soft gumbo soil that seemed very like those that they had seen around their own village. I'he party concluded that they were at the cave home of some scalpless warrior, and with sudden fear taking possession of them, they hasdly tied to their homes to relate a wondrous story. As time passed the mysterious tracks around the Aricaree village condnued. They were ofdmes traced within the inclosure, even up to the lodge of the widow of the slain picket, whose body had so unaccountably disappeared at the outpost near Fort Clark, many years before. This woman had remained unmarried, since that disastrous day when her husband passed into the gauzy and indefinite by that unsatisfying and speculauve word,— missing. She had stayed at the home of her parents, caring for her child, the daughter of the unfortiuKU^' brave. The Scalpless Warrior and Daughter. 38 One night, this child, then nearly seven years of age, was fretting and crying as other children are wont to do, when the impatient mother cried out churlishly,— as interpreted from her native tongue : -1 will throw you out of the door for your bug- gaboo father to catch !" An expressive significa- tion from the haunted woman. The litde girl not heeding, she was flung out of die doorway by the irate mother, and after a shrill and piercing shriek, all became silent in the dark- ness, save the usual baying of dogs, or the low sounds of muffled drums in adjoining lodges. The mother, after her flash of anger was over, called aloud to her child to come inside, but neither child nor answer came to her summons. She then went outside calling aloud through the darkness; and as before, no answering voice. Becoming now thoroughly aroused the woman went from one lodge to another, making eager in- quiries about the whereabouts of her daughter, lAit was uniformly answered by a shake of the head and the negative word "cok-kee." She searched high and low, near and far, but scearched in vain. i3ays passed, months pas.ed, and years went slowly on, but the thoroughly repentant mother never saw her dear child again. The Cree Indians of Lake Winnepeg, Province of Manitoba, during years of scarcity, in days past. 39 Frontier and Indian Life. went hunting the buffalo in the country of the South Assinaboines, on or about the headwaters of Mouse river. In one of these wandering jour- neys by a band of this tribe about the year 1855, they became snow bound on Riviere Du Lac, a tributary stream of the Mouse. On a bitter cold and stormy day when snow was drifdng in wild flurries about the sheltered camp, two mounted persons suddenly appeared within the line, that the custom of these wild red plainsmen, binds inmates to a hospitable recep- tion of strantrers or self-invited o-uests, cominor from what tribe they may. One of these visitors seemed a huge wolf mounted on horseback. The figure was encased from head to heel in the shaggy coat of the white buffalo wolf; the fiercest animal of its kind on the plains. The face of this fright had a wolf's mask, and ears stood erect, as from a wolf s head. The other figure was that of an Indian maid of matchless beauty both in face and form. She v\as wrapped in a mantle of the prime silk otter, with a whitened frock from the tanned skins of the ante- lope, moccasins of a winter pattern from the hide of the buffalo; and drawn around her loosely a fine fig- ured robe; and widi a gaudy head dress com- pleted her artistic wardrobe. Her fiery and gaily comparisoned steed chafed disconceniealy wiili his taut rawhide bit. Such were the strangers that greeted the wondering Crees. "1 am a child of the Aricarees !" said the maid The Scalpless Warrior and Daughter. 40 as she quickly dismounted and archly extended a hand to the advancing Cree chief. "Yes," replied the red gallant, ''none but the Aricaree have such handsome women." Need the reader be told that these visitors in the Cree camp, were none other than the cave dweller of the Little Missouri Bad lands, and his daughter — die missing child of the Aricaree village. For several long and lonesome years, they had lived on the trackless plain or among the dreary wastes of the bad lands. How the man existed in the earlier and hermit part of his career, without other aid than the merest stumps of feet and hands, or how he had bandaged and stopped the blood flow without assistance, is one of those unraveled mysteries of wilderness life, that we will pass on to the debatable and conjectural. The father and daughter received a warm wel- come — were feasted and cared for as the primitive Indian always do to their hungry and tired stranger guests. The girl's gayety and beauty soon won her admirers among the susceptible youths, and later on a husband from among the hunters of the tribe, while the Scalpless Warrior, always dressed in his frightful wolf mask, remained around among these hospitable people until the summer days came around again, when one morning the early dew marked a trail on the outward way, and never one among the Cree hosts have seen its re- turn — for the strange wolf-man had disappeared forever. 41 Fromikr AM) Indian Lifk. Ocean Man was a petty Cree chief. He was one of the few Indians of that tribe of the far in- terior who had ever gazed upon the waters of the wide ocean. From some high point where the waters of Hudson's Bay pour out into the mighty deep, he had beheld the Atlantic's vast expanse, and its foamy billows dash themselves on the dripping rocks about him. Hence his name. In September, 1882. this chief, with eight men and their several families of woman and children, left their homes on the Saskatchewan river, south- w^ard for the plains of North Dakota, to hunt the last band of wild buffalo that was seen or ever will be seen alonof the orass covered vales of the Riviere du Lac. The little party came in forced marches to the plains around White Buffalo lake, without scarcely a halt other than the regular night rests. But now at this place so near their journey's end, and with- in good range of -game, they decided to take a few days of ease. At sundown on the day after encamping, while the hunters were gathering in their ponies for the the night, some of them espied objects in the dis- tance, but owing to the healed and dis-.urbed at- mosphere, seemed like a mass of buflalo, cind a shout of joy passed from one another at the sight, for now feasts of plenty would reign the hour. — But. see, they come closer now ! How sudden the transitions of thought ! How sirangely the heart beats now to these poor people, who saw The SiALPi.Ess Warrior and Daughter. 42 the glimmer of bright sunshine fade, and death's terrible pall throwing out its inky shades around them, llie moving objects are plainly discerned now ! Not buffalo, but a large body of horsemen moving down on them with the swiftness of the wind. Now. Cree husbands and fathers be firm !— Nerve your hearts for duty and for danger as never before been tried. Around you and about you are your all. Poor, frightened Cree mothers and helpless little ones, go hide yourselves quick, and hide yourselves well. The yelling demons bearing down upon you, are a war party of Gros \^entres, Mandans and Aricarees— they have come to avenge a fallen comrade, and if victorious will kill you all. Swift circling horsemen— deafening yells and rattling reports from their Winchester rifles- desultory replies coming from muzzle loaders in the hands of the terrified Crees from behind their cart beds, feeble from the first but soon ceasing altogether, and then the excited horsemen dis- mount to hack up the wounded and living; muti- late and scalp the dead. Among the victims was a dying woman, with two dead chtldren clasped tightly to her breast. Her last mute appeal— the sign of the Aricaree, had been unheeded or unanswered, and with the last crasp of this dying mother— by war's strange and Tragic twists— the blood line of the Scalpless Warrior was ended. THE QRSAT PLAINS IN 1364 AND 1865. FOR many years previous to the summer of 1864, the wild Indian inhabitants of the great central plains, had — barring some sporadic ex- ceptions — refrained from committing any serious depredations upon their white neighbors of the eastern frontier or the emigrants and freighters passing through their territory along the three great highways between the Missouri river and the Rocky mountains. This, too, with a knowlege that in the three preceding years, a bloody and devastating war was raging between the States. The outbreak of the Santee Sioux in Minne- sota, in 1862, had made no visible impression for the worse on the several Indian nations, not even to the southwestern bands of the Sioux who roamed along the Big Horn, Niobrara and Platte river country. As late as the latter part of July, 1864, while on the overland journey referred to in the open- ing sketch, large bands of the Op.allalla and upper Brule Sioux, and some Cheyennes were camping quiedy along the Platte river trail, between P>e- mont's Orchard and O'Fallons Bluffs, while some of their chiefs were away holding conferences with Colorado's governor and some military ofiicers at Denver, endeavoring to allay die threatened war cloud caused by a difficulty between some emi- The Great Plains tn 1864 anI) 1865. 44 grants in the early spring in which tlie military al- so took a share. In the fight that followed the soldiers were repulsed with a loss of several killed and wounded. The Cheyennes lost their leader and some others. In the last week in July a raid was made by a small band of Indians along the Little Blue river in southeastern Nebraska. Several settlers were killed and two women carried into captivity. The raiders were Cheyennes. Near about the same time and probably by the same war party, an em- igrant party consisting of eleven persons were killed seven miles west of Fort Kearney at the Plumb creek crossing on the Platte river trail. — ■ An attack was made on the overland stage at C Fallon's Bluffs, and some depredations were committed on the stock of freighters along the two overland trails on the Arkansas and Smoky PI ill routes. Basetts division of Majors' train,— to which the writer was assigned — moved along slowly, and all were governed by a discipline of military exact- ness ; placing out trusty night guards at each camping place to avoid surprise and loss of stock I y the irresponsible stagglers and outlaws from Indian camps. At Fremont's Orchard, we passed through a large camp of Sioux and Cheyennes. Here, at his best, the untamed North American Indian could be seen. He appeared the haughty savage with a dignified reserve, and acted to a finish its portrayal. He passed our questioning 45 FkoxriKk AM) iNDfAN Ltkk. with unmoved silence and our proiTered laniiliarity with scorn. While trailing through the .sands over O' Fallon's Bluffs, we came upon the body of a man just killed. He was dressed in an Indian-like costume and other than the loss of his scalp, and several arrows shot in his breast, suffered no mutilation. At the American ranch we remained encamped two days, and hear learned from this undaunted ranchman of the murder of the H ungate family at the Beaver creek cut-off, and two days later passed their four newly dug graves. We reached Denver about the middle of August and thence passed up Cherry creek for the Arkan- sas. The valley along the creek was deserted by its inhabitants, and cattle herds badly scattered. A man and boy had been found murdered, appar- ently by Indians. This was about the sum total of casualties when a proclamatioii from the Gov- ernor of Colorado was received at the principal Indian camps within the boundaries of that Ter- ritory. The proclamation was dated June iCth. The Governor ordered all friendly disposed In- dians within the Territorial limits to repair forth- with to the military post of P'^Ort Laramie on the north, or to Fort Lyons on the south.: This order would affect the Ogallalla Sioux, and a part of northern Cheyennes and Arapahoes on the north, while those affected on the southern border would be the lov/er bands of the Cheyennes, Arapahoes and the Kiowas. The mountain Utes were considered friendly and were not included in the proclamation. Till': Great Plains un 1864 ani> 1865. 46 The Cheyenne Indians belong to the great Al- gonquin family, and when first known to the whiies lived on the Sheyenne river, a branch of I he Red Red River of the North. They are termed in Indian sign language "Cut Wrists" from that form of mutilation which they practice on their dead (•nemies. They are also sometimes called die Dog Eaters from their known fondness for the (lesh of this animal, which ihey serve up at all cer- emonial feasts. On account of incessant wars with San Lee Sioux, Assina.boines and Crees, the Chey- ennes moved soudi by what is now known as the Little Cheyenne river where they encamped for a few years. In 1 804, when Lewis and Clark ascend- ed the Missouri, they were living on the Big Cheyenne, near the Black Hills. In 18.32 George Callin found ^them in about the sa.me place; though that traveler speaks of them as sending war parties, on hosdle foreys as far south as the Mexican bor- der. While in the Black Hills they were at war against various Sioux bands, and also the Mandans, and' sometimes against the Aricarees. About these limes owing to the aggessiveness of ilie Crows north of them, the Cheyennes formed alliance with the Arapahoes, an offshoot of the Caddoes of the Texas plains. These Arapahoes were old residents of the North Platte country, and two or thr(^e generations had passed since they separated from the parent stock on Brazos river. After the union of the Cheyenne and Arapa hoe tribe they continued their depredations, to 47 F^RoN'riKk AM) L\])i.\N- Li:r:. Fort Wise by a commission appointed for the pur- pose and some of the principal chiefs of these two tribes in which they aggreed to surren der certain parts of their territory along the foot- hills and and with a vague wording of the articles permission was granted by the Indians for the building of roads through any part of their lands. When the terms of the treaty was made known to the Indians as a body they vigoroL/sly protested a general treaty with these tribes who as mutual sharers of the country claimed common ground for both tribal divisions, all lands between Fort Laramie on the north, to the old Santa Fee cross- ing of the Arkansas river, on the souih. The discovery of gold around Pike's Peak in 1858, and the occupation of the country by a large number of prospecters and adventurers made it necessary for the Government to again make a treaty with the Cheyennes and ArapahDes. Ac- cordingly in May, 1861, a conference was held at Some extent, against the settlements of New Mex- ico; and some trouble growing out of diese plundering expeditions in their own camps, a general rumpus took place. A part of the Chey- ennes and a part of the Arapahoes moving south- ward and thencforward became known as the south- ern bands. They occupied the country between the South Platte and the Arkansas rivers. Those who remained north continued to occupy the coun- try between the Platte river forks and along the mountain foothills. In 1851, the government made The Great Plains tn 1864 and 1865. 48 and the chiefs making the treaty were terribly scored and ordered to undo the work that their ig- norance had done, especially as to the making of numerous roads through their country. Such were the grievences of the Cheyennes, when Governor Evens' proclamation reached their main camps. The principal part of the Chey- ennes were for obeying without question, though a turbulent minority led by some ambitious young men w^ere for ignoring or defying the Governor's order. Notwithstanding numerous messengers and messages passed between the Governor and the Indians it was noi: until September that a con- ferance could be arranged, which was held in Den- ver, between the Governor and Col. Chivington the district coiiinander on the one side, and some of the principal Cheyenne and Arapahoe chiefs on the other. The two leading chiefs of the Cheyennes were tw^o brothers White Antelope and Black Kettle, both brainy and far-seeing men, who had talked down the turbulent and restless spirits among their own people, and vv^ere earnestly desirous of warding off certain ruin and destruction of their tribe by truce with the Government. The Indians had been moving too slow to suit the Governor, and he was loth to give audience. He reproached the chiefs for their tardiness in complying with the terms of his proclamation, and plainly told them he now doubted his ability to protect them from the soldiers. The following was a part of 49 r^RoX'lII-.R AM) ImhAX LtFK. the conversation between the Governor, Colonel Ciiivington, and the Indians at this council relating; to "first blood" — the beginning of the war : Gov. Evans. — '*Who took the stock from Fre- mont's Orchard and had the first fight with the sol- diers this spring north of there." White Antelope. — ''Before answering this ques- tion I would like to know that this was the be- ginning of the war and I would like to know what it was for. A soldier fired first." Gov. E. "The Indians had stolen about 40 horses; the soldiers went to recover them and the Indians fired o volley into their ranks.'' White Antelope. "That is all a mistake; they were coming down the Bijou Basin and found ono horse and one mule. They returned one horse be- fore they got to Gerry's, to a man, then went to the ranch expecting to turn the other over to some one there. Then they heard that the soldiers and In- dians were fighting some where down Platte river, then they took fright and fled." Gov. E. "Who were the Indians that had the fight?" White Antelope. "They were headed by Fool Badger's son, a young man, one of the greatest of the Cheyenne warriors; who was wounded, though still alive, will die." The council lasted several hours and at its con- clusion Black Kettle and White Antelope agreed to bring m their respective camps under the pro- tecdon of Fort Lyon, and done so. They were also accompanied by Left Hand and his band of Arapahoes. On the 20th of November our train re-crossed The Great Plains tx 1864 and 1865. 50 the Arkansas at Pueblo, having on our return from Fort Union, New Mexico, loaded with corn at Hicklin's on the Greenhorn, for Denver, and consequently moved slowly. On the 21st, while rolling along the Fountain Butelle, we were overtaken by a snow storm and at the Garden of the Gods, near the present site of Colorado Springs, we made camp for several days. About the I St of December, while preparing to move for- ward we were overtaken by some of the 3rd Col- orado regiment and from them we learned the per- ticulars of one of the most atrocious acts ever committed by men wearing the uniform of the United States Army, viz: the annihilation of White Antelope and his band of Cheyennes after having obeyed Governor Evans proclamation and placed themselves under protection of the military au- thorides at Fort Lyons. The soldiers account given at that time and afterward corroberated by their companions in arms, and whose statements have never been changed materially, in the light of facts of subsequent history. About the middle of November, Col. John M. Chivington, an ex-minister of the Gospel then ' commanding the district of Colorado, was mass- ing and outfiting a body of soldiers for a purpose that he kept to himself, though outwardly he was tacidy following the line of orders issued by Gen. Curtis the department commaner. The camp of rendesvous was on Bijou Basin, southeast or Den- ^i Frontier and Indian Life. ver. The command as massed consisted of the I St and 3rd regiments of Colorado cavalry, a sec- tion of artillery and transportation wagons. The whole command numbered near one thousand men. The ist regiment were three years men, and had already seen considerable service under its colonel, Chivington, in New Mexico, against Sibley and his Texas rangers. The 3rd regiment a nondescript crowd of emergency, or ninety day men, many of whom had served in both Union and Confederate armies; others had been bush- whackers, bullwhackers and prospectors whose principal find had been hard luck. On the morning of the 23rd of November, this military command packed tents, saddled up and marched southward. The snow from the late storm lay deep upon the ground, though as die soldiers moved toward the Arkansas, it disap- peared. The nights were raw and cold and the ground damp and uncomforlable for tired and weary men. A night of unrest made the succeed- ing day seem lifeless and time pass:ed cheerless enough to Chivington's soldiers, until the evening of the 26th, when the distant breaks of the Ar- kansas river could be outlined; then a halt and a rest was made, the night to be spent in marching. About midnight the march was resumed. A chilly wind laden with dampness surgt*d through the movino- mass and all seemed silent with their own thoughts. Chivington and his two guides rode in advance of the command. One of these guides, The Great Plains tn 1864 and 1865. ^2 was Jim Beckwith. once the noted mulatto war chief of the Mountain Crows of the Big Horn country, and a man with a strange record noted for its varying shifts, even in the unstable life of a rover of the border. It was Jim's general knowl- edge of the plains that the giant commander re- lied on that occasion. It was young John Smith, that the specific knowledge was expected on that night ride across the trackless plains. Smith was the half breed son of John Smith the well known Indian trader, who was at that very time among the Cheyennes. The young fellow had been beguiled, in some shape to accompany the expedition, and was moody and non-communicative by spells. Beckwith guided them without accident to within sight of the section of country they v/ere looking for, and now Smith was to lead them to the object. The boy — for he was under twenty — rode by the side of the gruff commander in silence. He was communing in silent, morbid thought — a presenta- ment, perhaps — of the evc^nts of the coming day. Chivington knew that fear alone held his younger guide loyal, and Beckwith was asked to watch his movements closely. After a long spell of silence Smith spoke out in broken English : "Wolf he howl. Indian doo^ he hear wolf; he howl too. Indian he hear dog, listen and run off." Chivington took the butt of his revolver in his hand and turned ominously to the speaker, said : "Jack, I havn't had an Indian to eat for a long time. If you fool with me and don't lead to that camp, I'll have you for breakfast." 53 Frontier and Indian Life. An hour later a lii^ht streak in the eastern sky, warned the benumbed, stiffened men and jaded horses that another day was at hand. The objects, too, were near by that they had came for. The spreading- twihght revealed a large drove of ponies feeding quielly on die plain below them — and a lit- tle beyond, upward of a hundred yellow Indian lodges — smokeless but not tenantless — the in- mates, even to the restless watchdogs were- in the heavy sleep that precedes the dawn. It was in early October that 130 lodges of the expected Cheyennes and Arapahoes under Left Hand, Black Kettle and White Antelope appeared before the gates of Fort Lyons and delivered up their guns and equipments to Major Wynkoop the commandment of that post, as a token oi surren- der. Their arms was accepted by that oliicer and stored in the post arsenal, and a place pointed out to them to encamp and put up their lodges, i hey were given some rations from the post commissary though their wants were not extravagant, having considerable dried buffalo meat in camp. They behaved themselves well and were not inclined to intrude or loiter around the post as is usual wiih many Indians on the frontier. Some time in No- vember a change was made in the command of the post. Major Wynkoop was relieved by Major Anthony. The new commander was extremely dictatorial to his prisoners. He lessened their supply of rations and finally cut them off altogether The Gkhat Plains tn 1864 axD 1865. ^4. and advised them on a new location, where they mi.o^ht have a chance to subsist. This new locadon was on Sand Creek— forty miles away. The place was near the buffalo range. A few of their poorest guns was returned to them for the use of the hunters. There was no reason given by Major Anthony for this change. Col. Chivington had, for reasons of his own placed Major Anthony in charge of the fort. The Indians moved out to Sand creek and put up their lodges. The chiefs felt uneasy. But in diis camp were two or three of the half breed sons of Col. Benl, the noted fur trader, and John Smidi also a trader on the plains, with over thirty years experience with the Indians. These ■ read over and over again to the Indians the fol- lowing extract from Governor Evans proclamation: -All friendly Arapahoes and Cheyennes, belong- ing on the Arkansas river, will go to Major Colby, United Stales Indian Agent at Fort Lyon, who will give them provisions and show them a place of safety." Trader Smith used his influence to calm their fears, and curb their disappointment.— From childhood he had been taught that only the Mexican and the Indian were treacherous and cruel —only his own race, all magnanimity— all virtue. • Sand creek was open and shelterless, the plains aboyt, scarce of game, so that their feastings be- came few and their fasting spanned hours. The Indian child enured to the pangs of hunger, sat in its cheeriess nakedness around the smouldering 55 Froxtikk AM) Indian LiI'F. buffalo chip fires — uncomplaining little Spartans, that had been tau^rht that silent suffering was a badge of fortitude. Daybreak on the 27th of November again. Daybreak in that Indian village on Sand creek. Raw and chilly and no one astir. What a comfort a warm robe on an early raw winter morning. A Cheyenne woman gets up to start a fire. She listens and is startled at a rumbling sound. "Buf- falo !" she exclaimed aloud. She threw up the teepe door. Black, indistinct forms are wedging down a ravine and ponies of the village go snort- ing up the hillside. "Buffalo!" yells the woman "Buffalo!" "White Soldiers !" exclaimed a dozen others, for now the snorUng tramping and firing of guns had a.roused the camp. The soldiers were amongst them. White Antelope rushed out unarmed with extended hands exclaiming in Eng- lish, "Stop! stop!" when he sank down filled with bullets. Smith the trader rushed between the ad- vancing soldiers and camp became muddled,' ran back among the lodges and was unharmed. But all was confusion nov/. Shooling, screaming and crying of woman and children, yelling of soldiers. Black Kettle rloated the stars and stripes and a white flag from the top of his lodge, but seeing no heed or respect was given; being unarmed escaped to the hills. Indians that had bows and arrows de- fended their lives as best as they could, and kept up a retreating fight along the creek bed. The Tin: Gkkat Plains in 1864 and 1865. ^6 demoniac gia.nt ridiii!^' among his men ordered no prisoners taken. Women, children, as well as unarmed men where shot down wherever over- taken. Little children, even to the sucking babes at their mother's breasts were shot like rabbits wherever found. A young Cheyenne girl, the af- fianced bride of George Bent, was hiding in a low swr.il when some soldiers came upon her. She arose and with extended hands and bared breasts rushed toward the soldiers, thinking that her fem- inity and her beauty would save her; for she was a half breed, with the fair complexion of a- Saxon l^lond, and was reckoned the most beautiful young girl among the Cheyennes.. She was met by a blow that crushed her skull, and her body after- ward mutilaied. One woman escaped from the slaughter and was crouching behind some low sage brush. A scared horse came galloping toward her hiding place; its owner in hot pursuit, but some distance away. Seeing she would be discovered, and per- haps thinking, by catching the animal and return- ing it to the owner, that she might save her life — .she caught it and held it until he came up; mean- time unloosening her blanket and baring her breast that he may know she was a woman. He took the bridle in one hand and with the other drew his revolver and shot her dead. An Indian woman and two children in the con- fusion crawled into a wagon unobserved. And only came forth from her hiding when the train 57 F^RONTIKR AM) InDLvN LiFK. moved toward Lyons. The teams'.er, more mer- ciful than the rest allowed her to accompany the waggon after being discovered. A squad of .'sol- diers coming up she was killed and her babes brained against the tires of the wagon wheel. — The Indian loss was about five hundred, principally woman and children. The soldiers lost seven killed and several wounded. Young Smith the enforced guide, horror slriick at the scenes about him attempted to run away but vvTcS captured and brought back and placed under miard in his father's trading store. Col. Chivine^on was told that unless he o-ave orders to have him spared, that the boy would be killed. He replied : "I have given my orders and I have no more to grive." It was taken as a .acdc:; consent by the self appointed guards and they crowded around Smith as he set in his chair and some one shot him through the head. Over four hundred dead bodies lay around most of them women and childeren. The next day after the ba.de these bodies was disgustingly mutilated and scalps, ears fingers, and other parts of the body carried in the imitative, triumphal march of the savage or the pa- S^an. Garland crowned heroes of a nineteenth century episode — the massacre of the Inc.ian prisoners and their families at Sand creek. The Rocky Mountain News» the D^^nver newspa- per, gave them a rousing welcome. It said: ''1 he Colorado soldiers acquitted themselves v/ell and covered themselves with glory." The Gkkat Plains tn; 1864 and 1865. ^8 Many of the best men of Denver, however, denounced the Sand creek massacre as an atro- cious crime. Among others were two of the su- preme court judges, who had influence enough with President Lincoln to suspend the brutish Chiviagton from his command. Of course indig- nr.tion meetings v/ere held by his apologists, and on one occasion a war meeting was held to meet a ihreatered danger. The meeting was held in one of the theatres. The hall was packed. "Old Chiv" as the butcher was familiarly called was in his element. The crowd of roarers were his ovv'n. His self glorification was applauded. "I not only believe in killing every Injun," yelled I he excl'.ed Colonel "but every one that sympa- thizes with them." With the surrender of the Cheyennes and Arap- aho^\s at F'ort Lyons, in October, '64, peace and quiet re'gned once more along the Arkansas; setllers and ranchmen returned to their homes, and overland travel and freighting was resumed. The ranchmen of the Platte river, though living in exposed and isolated places along that great over- land trail which ran parallel with that wide shal- low river for near five hundred miles, and who made their abode along the thoroughfare, and never considered their position perilous enough to aban- don at any time during the past summer. But the massacre of the hapless beings at Sand creek, warned them that a danger would now 59 P^RoN'i'iKk AM) Indian Likk. come upon them that would be madness to deny. First, most of the Indian woman who had been living with white husbands, quietly deserted them when an opportunity occurred for them to do so, A quietness prevailed over the Indian coun- try, but it was misinterpreted by Chivington and his friends in Colorado, who saw in this non-activi- ty of the Indians, a fear brought on by what they termed the "chastisement'* wrought on them by "Old Chiv." But they misconceived. It was the grusome calm that precedes the tornado's fury. About the middle of January 1865, war parties appeared by sections alonp; Platte river and for a distance of four hundred miles every while mr.i or woman was killed and every building but two were destroyed — these being French Canadians with Sioux wives. The village of Julesburg was destroyed and its 28 residents put to death. Jn March, I hired out as night guard for Fuck's freight train and proceeded down Platte river for Atchison, Kansas. From the ruins of Julesburg, to lack Morrow's ranch near the present Fort McPherson, was one continuous string of dead, bodi white men and Indians, — dead stock, burned trains and ranches. Our up trail acqaintance of the American ranch was found with 60 arrows in his body. The evidence told us that he had died game. At the Wisconsin ranch the inmates had been smothered, but inside of the ranch ruins lay two face-covered Cheyenn(^,s. One a middle aged warrior — the other a young brave dressed from head to foot in Confederate grey. The latter, one of the Bent boys, and both sleeping the long sleep that knew no waking. FORT BSRTHOLD AaSNCY IN 1869. EARLY in the sprino; months of 1869, the rest- less Sioux of the Missouri river agencies, commenced cratherincr in small war parties for one more general rr.id against the remnants of the Mnndans, Gros Venires and Aricaree Indians of the Fort Berthold agency. The almost cease- less struggle that had reached beyond a century of years between these warlike combatants were now to all appearances being settled in favor of the former nation. The buffalo grass had scarcely put forth its flow- er, before Sioux sentinels stood like stone mounds and almost as immovable, looking down from high poin's of the winding bluffs that encircled the be- leagured village ;; and, like watchful falcons, seek- ing opportunities to dart on their unguarded prey. Mounted squads of Sioux dashed around here and there, to intercept hunting parties and destroy them, thus reducing the inmates of the allied vil- lage to gaunt famine and starvation. in one instance a brave band of Aricaree hunt- ers accompanied by some of their women, and led l>y Son of the Star's eldest son. were waylaid in a deep coulee, by a band of their enemies, led by a son of the Yanktoney Sioux chief Two Bears, 'i he Aricaree hunters were returning from the 6o Fkontikr AM) Indian Likk. Painted Woods Lake, with ponies loaded with elk and deer meat, and were attacked in the coulee above the present town of Washburn, in McLean county, and aLer a running fight for several miles the Sioux leader was killed, and his foremost foe mortally wounded. An Aricaree woman was also killed and pony supply train captured or dispersed. Signal glasses, rock and smoke signs, were ob- served in ominous frequency by the allied watch- ers from iheir house towers during the day from both sides of the Missouri, and the glare of fire signals lent their aid to multiph' the horrors of the night. Women were shot down and scalped while tend- ing their little garden patches within call of the village. Danger stalked in every form around and even within its sombre precincts after nighttali. Horses and ponies disappeared nightly from the pastures — ^from the pickets, and even from the lodges of the sleeping owners, for in dangerous times a common canopy, with a raw hide pariiiion was all that separated an allied warrior and his steed ; and the family shared the stored food widi the serviceable beast. One night in the early spring, a Aricaree mother was hushing her crying child wiih a song. 1 he door of the lodge was secure. A stealthy SIou : spy located her voice, and proceeded to cut a hole through the wall with his tomahawk to UK.ke a place ior his rifie. A passing Aricaree* vvarricr interrupts him and recives the shot and the death Fort Hi:rth()I.I) A(;i:xrY rx 1869. 61 intended for the unsuspecting songstress. In the confusion that ensued, the spy made good his escape. These scenes with an occasional shift or varia- tion, were but the repedtion year after year in the long dreary decades of the past to the Mandans, Gros X^enlres and Aricarees. A people of fixed habiiaJon, they were made a surer mark — a surer pre\- to die hostile nomadic tribes ; being in a permanent location, they were easily found and as ep.sily watched. On the odier hand w^hen it became necessary to strike back, these Fort Berthold bands had an uncertain hunt and an uncertain find before them. A camp of roving Sioux were frequently on the move. Fach turn of the seasons found them on changed grounds and sometimes in new territory. By these confiicting conditions and habits be- tween these people it is easily seen that the Sioux become the hunters and the b^ort Berthold allied tribes the hunted, a clear disadvantage to the lat- ter. Witness the destruction of the Aricaree vil- lages on Grand River and the Moreau ; of the massacre of the inhabitants of the two Mandan \ illages on ihe south bank of Apple creek, and the almost total annihilation of the Anhnaways at their \ illage near where the county seat of Oli- ver-county now rests. All of these disasters to the allied Indians of fixed residences happened within the past century. Xifmercially they had been reduced nine-tenths in 62 Fro-Xtiek am> Im.i.w Liii;. th^t same period of time .; althoiitrh small pox and cholera were the principal causes of their dv- cimation. Even in warding off these deslruc.ive diseases the Sioux, also, had the advantage of their stationary neighbors, for on their first appear- ance the camp would break up and scatter to every point of the compass like a brood of frightened prairie chickens, and thereby escaping the danger of general infection, and relying on good water pure air and fresh grassy beds as auxiliery disin- fectants. The confederate bands of the Sioux, in 1869, exclusive of the Assinabomes, their northern bredi- ern, numbered somewhere near about forty thou- sand. They were the only wild Indians on the American continent growing strong in spite of the agressive bearings upon them of modern civiliza- tion and without conforming to its imperious usa- ges, other than adapting themselves to the use of certain kinds of clothing ; a watchful regard for the improved implements of war, and a careful train- ing in their use. They were rich in horses and trained from boy- hood in the saddle. By treaty y/ith the govern- ment in 1867, and 1868, immense herds of Tex^s cattle had been issued to them in payuienl for ceded lands, which, with the vast herds of buffalo that as yet roamed over their extensive domain, placed them eiiher as tributary tribes, or v»'ard;; of a nation, in a prosperous position. Trading posts had been established at conveni- Fort Bekthold Agp:ncv in 1869. 63 ent distances by the ^reat Durfee & Peck trading company from whose establishments improved fire arms and metalHc amunition could be purchased in quantities to suit the demands of their custom- ers. The company's policy like that in more civ- ilized communities was to favor their best custom- ers, and these in this instance, was the prosper- ous and haughty Sioux. The Fort Berthold bands had none of these ad- vantages. The three tribes numbered scarcely two thousand all told, and of this number the Ar- icarees were counted one ha'f. They had made a treaty with the Government — had ceded large facts of lands for promises unfulfilled. A pair of pants to a chief, a calico dre^ss or a shawl for some female favorite, was about pJl that reached them after passing through the gauntlet where the agent, the inspector and the issuing clerk took turns in their stand alonir the line for the "whack- up." Then above all and first of all came the immense maw of the Durfee & Peck company. whose resident agents were superior to the Gov- ernment ones, inasmuch as the potent influences of that company governed their appointments and tenure of office. What interests had the Durfee & Peck estab- lishment in the poor starving ragamuffin horde cooped up in the Indian village at Fort Berthold ? They had nothing to trade. Not even the satis- faction of handling their own "wak-u-pominy" or presents. Fort BkkthoU) Agency tn 1869. 63 Over forty had died since the month of Febru- ary, by actual or partial starvation, in addition to those mowed down by the arrows and bullets of the Sioux. No visible attempt was made to alle- viate this state of affairs by the local managers of the Durfee & Peck company, or the agent of the Government. True, that some move had been made to better their condition by the military authorides at the neighboring post, Fort Steven- son, but their means and power to do were re- stricted in the premises, 'and of little benefit. Having nothing to trade or sell, they had no arms for defense save a few muzzle loading rifles and shot guns, and some bows and arrows, pikes, spontoons and war clubs, making up their rude, out-of-date martial equipments, to match in battle an enemy many times more numerous and by all odds the best booted and best armed wild Indians within the limits of the Republic. Such were the daily observations and reflections of the writer during the month of May of that year, while the guest of Jefferson Smith the patri- archal ex-trapper and trader in the camp of the Gros Ventres. On the lirst day of June, I moved to a wood camp, spnie three miles up the river from the Agency, near one of the Indian crossings of the Missouri. The first night of our stay, I was in- iatiated in river wood yard life with an after re- memberance. About midnight we were alarmed by a surround of enemies. Signal fires at the crossings of the wood roads, and the stampeding 64 F'romier AM) Indian Life. of stock, told us but too well that a cordon of danger was about us. "We will not stay in here to be killed, " said one of my two companions — Beauchamp 2nd, — who with Charley Reeder jumped through an open window and out into a thicket of willows. They left me with but a single pistol and a host of un- pleasant thoughts. A capture of about thirty ponies seemed to have satisfied the Sioux, who went away and my comrades returned. A day or two later, with the help of an Aricarree boy I was banking wood at the narrows within an easy gun shot across the stream. "Look at that Antelope," said the boy, as he pointed to a partly poised figure across on a knoll. "Look at that Sioux !" I answered a moment later as a glistening gun barrel reflected from the supposed antelope. The boy hid from view. In a few seconds more, thirty Sioux warriors stood abreast, and scanned that neighborhood closely. One year after, Santee Jim who was with this war party told me had they seen this boy, they would have crossed over and had his scalp, and had I resisted or tried to protect him, took mine along for company. The Aricaree boy was killed by a Sioux war party three years later — ^June, 1872. On the morning of June 6th, a down stream steamer landed at our yard to take on wood. It had just returned from from the mountains and re- ported large Sioux war parties moving down both sides of the Missouri, and but a few miles away Fort Bkr'ihoi.I) A(;en('\ tn 1869. 65 On this boat was a passenger from the mouth of Musselshell River, a frontiersman who had "made his name." He had on board of the steamer, about thirty whitened skulls of Santee Sioux, from which he had boiled the flesh in bi^ kettles, while lengthening out his stay at Clen- dening's trading post. That place was attacked early in the spring by about sixty of Standing Buffalo's band of Santee Sioux, and very fortun- ate for Clendening's men, a crowd of wolfers and buffalo hunters happened along about the same time. The San tees were on foot and finding the garrison stronger than they had first calculated on, attempted a retreat. In this, however, they were foiled by the good generalship of George Gren- nell, a noted frontier character, and ably seconded by Johnson, the head-boiling passenger mentioned. The outcome was, the Indians were flanked and hemmed in a deep cut, and one-half of them ex- terminated. The whites lost but one. It was after the figj^ht that our worthy received his name, viz:- — Liver Eating Johnson. He was afterwards a trusty scout on several military expeditions against hostile Indians, On , the morning of the 8th of June, the long struggle between the beligerent Indians around Fort Berthold, came to a finish. My companions had started down to the Indian village the day previous, leaving me alone with a small revolver and a muzzel-loading shot gun as weapons of de- ense. About eight o'clock, Pautoo, or the Paint, 66 FKoN'riKk AM) Indian Li fk. an Aricaree, and a brother of the medicine man of the tribe came stepping briskly up to our cabin door. He had been hunting deer, he said, in the surrounding woods with bow and arrows but had poor hick, and asked in a submissive manner for the loan of the shot gim for a short time. On giving him permission to take it, he hurriedly started off. His nervous actions excited my sus- picions and I followed out the trail to the timber opening where a surprising, and not an altogether pleasing situation was in view for my edification. About half way between the line of timber and the Indian village, the winding and sparcely tim- bered coulee called Four Bears was plainly marked by abrupt appearing bluffs. On the plain near the bluffs large bodies of mounted men could be seen scurring around — now in plain view — now obscured by dust. The wind was blowing a hurricane. The horsemen were riding in swift circles and seemed at times like flying debris in the vortex of a cy- clone. It was an Indian batde. For over two hours, from a tree perch I watched the savage combatants. At last the revolving objects prew dim from dust and distance, and fragmentary bod- ies from the main circles were receding to the far- away bluffs Dismounting from my perch with a relief of mind, feeUng satisfied that the Aricarees and their allies had won the day. And so it proved. At sundown, Pautoo returned with the gun and his apologies. He broug|)t a bleeding scalp lock freshly cut from a Sioux wajrrior's head, and a fine Fort Bertiiold Agenc\ in 1869. 67 beaded buckskin gun cover and some other tro- phies from the battle field at Four Bears. He claimed wonderful merits in the borrowed shot gun and with Vigorous rhetoric told the deeds of valor it enabled him to accomplish. Thus he molified the resentment engendered by his adroit manoeuvre of arming himself at my expense in our common danger on the opening of the battle. Late that same evening the balance of the wood yard crew came up from the Fort and the story of the battle graphically told. When the Sioux were first discovered, there were only four of them in sight. These were mounted and on top of a high hill overlooking the allied village and were riding the sign of the challenge. A little later full fivti hundred red painted Dakota warriors, who had evidently been in hiding since early daylight, swarmed out from the ravines mounted on their high mettled war ponies, and made a mad rush for the village and its terriiied people. Following the slark and panting blood hunters, rode one hundred women — veritable war woman — to the expectant dance over .the blood-clotted dead, amid the smoul- dering ruins of the last village of their hereditary enemies. Out from the threatened village went forth its defenders to meet their enemies, undis- mayed by the superiority in numbers of the com- ing: hosts, or the lack of arms to meet them on chosen ground. The dogs bayed, the woman screamed and old men tottering with infermaties of years or swaying their conscious course with 68 Frontikk AM) Indian Lii"f. the affliction of sightless eyes tread forward to ihe sounds of shill whistles, rattle of guns and swish of flying arrows. It was a charactereslic Indian battle where the warrior shout and talk as he fights. In a lull, White Shield, the old and valiant chief of the Aricarees, rode out between the hostile lines like the ancient Saracens before the grim walls of Damascus and Antioch. "I am old," he shouted, "my teeth are bad — I can't eat corn. I am ready to die. Will my enemy meet me — will my enemy come." This was a challenge to the leader of the opposing forces. No answer was returned. The leader of the Sioux, young Two Bears was already dead. The veteran y\ricaree chief returned to the ranks of his men. Though a conspicuous target to his enemies the chivalry of the savage code forbid him harm. The fighting begun again and after a terrific en- counter the Sioux broke and went flying in scat- tered bands from the field. At this moment a tor- rent of rain and hail came down from an almost cloudless sky. ''Hold — my men hold," again the White Shield "the Great Spirit warns us — let them go." He interpreted the signs of the heavens as a cessation of strife, and in so doing averted a running fight and massacre of the wounded. A few weeks before the fight, a young Sioux, the son of White Bull, a chief of the lower Min- neconjous, became a guest of the Mandans. By inter-tribal law and adherence to a savage's code F'oRT Bektholi) Agencv in 1869. 69 of honor, he must assist his intertainers in their day of need even as against his friends and rela- tives on the field of battle. The young man was out and ready at the first sound of alarm, and with a new Winchester rifle, the only one used in the fight by the allied tribes on the field. He was in the fore of the fight from the begining to the end and his quick firing gun did great execution.— When the victors returned to the village, fear and grief were replaced by smiles and joy from the anxious ones who had watched the battle from the house tops, The brave young Minneconjou was particularly sought out by the grateful red maids and showered with kisses and other tokens of mead for his chivalerous gallantry in this — their hour of need. It was an after consolation to the young brave, for on his return to the Minne- conjues some weeks after he was soldiered — showered with imprecations and clubs. In this engagement the Sioux lost about forty killed and wounded and the Fort Berthold bands about half of that number. But the end was not yet. On a branch of the Heart river, August ist, 1869, there lay encamped a village of the lower Yanktoney under the old chief Two Bears. This band of the Sioux had taken the leading part in all . the hostile attacks against the Indians at Fort Berthold for many years. In the spring raids the old chief had lost two sons. He had followed the promptings of his r eople rather than that of his yo Frontier and Indtan Life. own more peaceful inclinations and was preparino- once more to invest the doomed village by the muddy Missouri. He had offers of assistance from the Two Kettles, lower Uncpapas and Grass's band of Blackfeet. It was from this val- ley of the Heart, that the war parties would be made up. The women and children had remained thus far with the camp, as no particular danger was anticipated. For weeks past, the lonely widow or mother had mourned from the hill tops; in sobs and moans for the fallen braves of the wind swept plains around the coulee of F^our Bears. On this first day of August, a hot simoon had been blowing from the south, when about midday the wind lulled and a stifling calm followed. The ponies, tethered or picketed stood in restful quiet under the shades of some scattering cottonwood. The drowsy mother — the child tired out with ils rompings in the grass, and the warrior exhausted from the morning scout or hunt — all lay sleeping peacefully and quietly in the shade of their lodg- es. The sentinals alone remained at their posts though even there, Morpheus beckoned not in vain. Such of those that were awake at about two o'clock could have observed — if such a com- mon thing had been noticable — a wolf showing itself from the point of a hill west of the camp, and about a mile away. The wolf was surveying the camp with that observient curiosity peculiar to its kind. Affer apparently satisfying itself, it F'oRT B^kTiinLi) Agency IN 1869. 71 frisked nimbly about for a moment or more and disappeared from view over the brow of the hill. 13o you notice, now, sleepy sentinal, a little whift' of smoke curling- up in air from the direction of the wolfs trail ? Do you notice how hard the west wind blows ? Have you noticed how dry the grass is ? You should have, if you did not ! A howling, shrieking and hissing girdle of fire-flame is upon you, and enveloping you, and while some of you may save yourselves in the creek bed, your camp your horses are lost. FORT PHIL KEARNEY. NO military post ever constructed on the far western frontier, during its occupancy, had so much of the tragic— so much speculative thought for the believer in the doctrine of foreor- dination or fatalism, or the strange and romantic turns in the after lives of its garrison as Fort Phil Kearney. It had been named in honor of the famous ofh- cer who lost his life at the head of his troops at Chantilly, September i, 1862, during Pope's "in the saddle" campaign between Washington, D. C. and the Confederate capital. The post was one of a chain of forts planned by the Government for the protection of the Mon- tana road, a contemplated thoroughfare from Platte river along the eastern base of the Rocky mountains, to the mining districts of eastern Mon- tana. An expedition with this object in view left Fort Kearney on Platte river, in June, 1866, under command of Col. H. B. Carrington, which con- sisted of two thousand men, to be evenly distrib- uted at the different proposed posts. Col. Car- rington chose a site on a tributary stream of Pow- der river, and on July 14th, of the same year work Fort Phil Kearney. 73 on the new post commenced under commander Carrington's personal supervision and by October, the fort was enclosed. While the country there had been known as -Crow country," it was at that time, by right of possession, a part of the Sioux domain. The Og- allallas under the chief Red Cloud, and High Back Bone, a chief of the Minneconjous, with their fol- lowers were bitterly opposed to the opening of the Montana road through their game preserves, and commenced venting their spleen by harassing the garrison at Fort Phil Kearney. The beef herd was run off and two soldiers killed during the first week of the military occupation, and frequent rep- etition of hosdle raids with more or less causual- lies during the balance of the summer months. On the 2 1 St day of December of that year, the hostile attacks culmmated in a general assault on the wood train and escort. The post lookout had been signalled to for aid, and commander Carring- ton sent out a relief party of eighty-four men, consisting of both infantry and cavalry, besides two cidzen scouts, the whole force under Colonel Fetterman. The Indians were seen on a ridge on the east side side of Peno creek, having retired in a feint from the wood train in order to success- fully entrap tlie coming soldiers. Fetterman, be- ing an impetuous officer rushed into an ambuscade, and in less than two hours all were killed. The batde is generally spoken of as the "Fort Phil Kearney massacre," and next to Custer's 74 Frontier and Indian Liik. fight on the Little Bio- Honi. the greatest nnmber oi soliiers H^ere killed of any of the latter day bat- tles between the Government troops and Indians. Amono- the officers killed beside Col. Fetterman o was Captain Brown and Lieutenant Grumniond, the latter officer having been placed in charge ot the cavalry. He v/as a handsome, dashing soldier and had left behind him at the fort a young wife, who, when the news was brought to her of the fight and that her beloved husband was among the slain, the sudden shock threw her in mingled rage and sorrow, and rushing into the quarters of the commanding officer, with disheveled liair and a torrent of sobs, she hurled the most terrible in- vecdves against the unlucky commander's head, chareine him with little less than the willfull mur_ o o der of her husband. Those who heard the inter- view, speak of it as the most tempestous outburst of fiery invectives and denunciations ever hurled from the lips of a pretty woman. Out, venerable chesnut, out ! — "Oh, consistency, thou art a jewel" Come with me my reader, and leave, for a time at least, these dreary and monotonous expanse of semi-deserts — the shelterless path of the hot si- moon; leave the sight of these eternal snow cap- ped mountains whose rugged summits hide from you the clear azure of the western sky, and from under and around these foot-hills where sad mem- ories come in endless chain. Fort Phil Kearnp:y. 75 Come with me, then, In airy flight to Tennes- see's gn^en groves and fair fields, to the land of the myrtle, the mistletoe and clinging ivy — the sweet mignonette and the fragrant honeysuckle than entwine and perfume the mansions of that sunny land. Away again then, oh memories of ill-fated Phil Kearney, with its uncanny thoughts — its cheerless deserted vales — its neglected, brier covered graves of the gallant hut now almost forgotten dead. Come with me then to a plantation of histor- ic name in this southern clime and I will show you a picture, — with the grace of sight of the year 1888. I will show you a fair lady in her silks and her satins — a rosy smiling face hardly touched by the stain of frosts that revolve with the cycle of time. You will see that this lady's hair is twined with blossoms of orange hue. You will see by this lady's side a a knightly cavalier, whose hair is silvered somewhat, but whose stately mien and military bearing proclaim him a thorough soldier. How proudly he walks by her side — aye, prouder than when he stood on conquering rampart or re- ceiving the plaudits of admiring throngs. Now, good reader, you have a glimpse of the picture. It was caught on the wings of a deepen- mir summer twilight by the ever faithful camera. It is a passing view of the ex-commander of P'ort Phil Kearney leading to the alter she whose great heart cries for her murdered husband's sake pealed out in endless echoes through the cold frosty air on that ever to be remembered December night within the lonely fort of shadowy phantoms in "the Powder river wilderness. A MEDICINE SNAKE^S CATASTROPHE. FOR several weeks succeeding the Indian bat- tle of Four Bear coulee, in 1869, the Aric- arees and their allies had a respite from the rig- orous investment of the Sioux. But vigilance on the part of the Berthold bands did not cease with the route and dispersion of the enemy in pitched battle, and small watching parties were out and on the alert for any sudden movement in the ranks of the recuperating foe. Although near the fort, Reeder's wood yard was located on dangerous ground, being near the much used Beaver creek crossing of the Missou- ri, and videttes from the allied village were often appearing in different parts of the timber to guard against a possible surprise, especially from harm that might com(i upon their woman who were daily floadng down their supply of wood in bull boats, for their home. Reeder and myself condnued at the woodyard after the battle, and was joined by Joe Putney who had assisted the Fort Berthold bands by taking a hand in the late engagement at Four Bears. With axe, maul and cross cut saw, Putney and myself drew a line, day by day, on the average chopper's out-put. A rest in the shade was a re- lief from the rays of the sun- \v-hile again, work in the sun was a relief from ravenous mosquitoes.. A Medicine Snake's Catastrophe. ^^ We were always armed, for at no time were we free from the danger of a shot or the swish of an arrow from ambush. The lurking Uncpapa at that time regarded the pale faced — or hog faced as they chose to call the woodchopper — his especial game that season on the Upper Missouri, and we were being continually informed by the Aricarees of the passing to and fro of Uncpapa spies to the village at Fori Berthold, endeavoring to enlist them in the general raid against the whites of the whole upper country. On one occasion we unbuckled our pistols and laid our guns at the stump of the tree while we were both busy with our axes at the fallen top. — The space between ourselyes and guns was not over thirty feet, but it was room enough for two painted warriors to pop out of the bushes with drawn bows and stand guard over our unprotected arsenal on the stump of the tree. "We are goners," ejaculated Putney, as he looked toward the scrowling savages." But one of them proved to be Man Chief, a Mandan, and his move was only to convince us how easily it was to take our top-knots were they so disposed. At another .time, lie repeated' the experiment, this ume^being alone, but on horse back. His identity was hid in paint. until ha chose to disclose himself. Mandaiist and" Uncpapas' resemble each other in dress and, head'gear, and as most of the Mandans w ere masters of the Sioux dialect, he used his dis- guise to show how neatly we could be trapped, 78 Frontier and Indian Life. and in feigned wonderment asked us why we had brought out our weapons in the woods for enemies to pick up. But many were the woodchoppers that went to death under Hke circumstances in those days, when red men more bloodthirsty than Man Chief, adopted this method of disarming his foe before kilHng him. At another time while Putney and myself were sawinor up a large tree, a monstrous bull snake crawled out from an aperture and Putney ran for his pistol and shot it. The huge snake was sev- eral feet long and one of the very largest of its species. After examining the ugly reptile, Putney threw it athwarth the trail where it was stumbled on by a passing band of Aricarees. They exam- ined it with circumspection, and an apparant feel- ing of awe. They spoke in subdued voices and to us who were listening, sounded like whispering anthems among the trees, and after some hurried oflances toward us, the mourners with our victim on a rude bier passed along the trail toward the village. It was then nearing the month of July, and the Indian's gardens were looking fine under the strengthening influence of copious showers, and the woman, with less (ear of the lurking foe and his terrible scalping knife arose willingly at the sturdy call of the village crier and hilled up the shooting stalks of corn and weeded among their crawling vines of sqashes and melons, cheerfully. But disappointment once more cast down their revived hopes and the mysteries whose interpreta- Im«)NTIkk AM) Indian Life. 79 tion was the provence, alone, of the medicine man, and Medicine Lance the venerable seer of the Ar- icarees, was the one of all others to read aright the signs of its veiled portents. A chief medicine snake had been found killed, and while its blood was not upon the hands of the Aricarees, its destruction had been wrought by their pale-faced brothers W'ho claimed kinship with their tribe. The medicine man moved slowly. Elements of the air, tossed in frenzied fury solved the riddle, and he could then only know that bad spirits in countless numbers — in legions as compact as an arctic ice field, and as complex as the starry hosts along the milky way, — darkened the heavens in sombre green, and for two hours there poured down hail that beat holes in the earth and w^hite- ened its surface, and torrents of rain that turned every coulee into a raging river. And more fear- ful yet, the mighty thunder bird of the Gros Ven- tres roared and tore and spit forth fire the like, the poor mystified red inhabitants of the village had never before witnessed. When morning came and the sun poured forth its light it cast its rays upon ruined gardens and desolate, ragged groves. All the woman of the village went out to witness their damaged crops. Half suppressed murmers escaped their lips but articulate w^ords found no voice. About ten o'clock in the morning following the disastrous cloud burst — for such it appeared to have been, — about twenty Indians in single file 8o F K(.^N r 1 1 R A M ' 1 M n A N Ll FE . passed alono the trail near where we were chop- ping and sawing, leading off in the direction of our camp. Not knowing to a certainty what tribe they belonged to we thought it prude,nt and proper to follow^ them to our cabin. We arrived in time to witness a very excitable harangue between the Aricaree chief White Shield and Reeder, the latter being proficient in the Aricaree tongue, and also an adept in the Indian sign language. The whole party were squatted on the ground floor in a semi- circle and grunted assent to their chief's fiery flow of ill-tempered language. Among those present sat Medicine Lance, Sharp Horn and Two Crows, the three medicine men of the tribe, with rank in the order named, and Little Fox, the Pawnee C)t- tacoots and Moccasin Carrier. The solemn ver- dict as rendered, was, that the responsibility of the night's catastrophe rested upon those who had destroyed the chief medicine snake, and that we must prepare to leave there instanter or die. We knew enough of the character of the wild Indian to prepare to go at once and after serving a feast as intertainment to these luckless and gruff lords of the domain, we pulled out for the military post of Fort Stevenson. The Medicine Lance's ex- pression on that occasion that "the slayer of the chief medicine snake will die as it died," was lit- erally fullfilled. The snake shot through the neck had died instantly, and the same fate followed Putney in a Sioux camp a few years later on, and his body carried from the scene of the tragedy, as A Mkdicine Snake's Caiastrophk. 8i was the body of the reptile, and the great thunder bird of the Gros Ventres once more roared, and spit tire, and drenched the lonely valley of the stagnant Hermaphrodite. It had sheltered in am- bush Putney's slayers. Reeder was killed in less than a year after the snake's death, and by fire and flood, by freezing, by starvation, by sick- ness and by bullet, the arrow and the tomahawk, these Aricaree guardians and avengers of the chief medicine snake, as herein recorded, have long since passed into the realm of the spirit land. A RIFT IN THE CLOUDS. JULY 2nd 1869, one of the Durfee & Peck line of steamers landed at Fort Stevenson with Major General Hancock, and staff aboard. I'he General was makincr a tour of inspection among- the military posts of his department and had just came down from Montana. While the boat was tied up at the landing pending post inspection, a council was held with the chiefs of the Mandans Gros Ventres and Aricarees, on the one side and that distinguished officer on the other. The im- pressive ceremony took place in the cabin of the boat and all available room was occupied by spec- tators. The writer of these pa^es embraced the , opportunity and was present. White Shields and Son of the Star represented the Aricarees; Croiv's Breast and Poor Wolf talked for the Gros Ven- tres, while Red Cow and Bad Gun plead the cause of the Mandans. Two famous interpreters were present. One of these, Pierrie Gareau, was the son of the half breed Aricaree chief Gareau, who was cruelly murdered by a party of trappers on the Papallion river, Nebraska, in the summer of 1832, thereby precipitating a war with the Arica- rees which lasted many years. The othr^r inter- preter w^as the veteran trader Fackineau, a brilli- ant linguist, speaking correctly many different In- dian languages. A Rift in Tiif: Clouds. 83 The venerable White Shield opened the coun- cil with a speech. The ready flow of language and perfect gesticulations as this red leader stood up in his chiefs robes, gave him a picturesque appearance that was pleasing alike to the General and spectators. The chief was then near seventy years of age, and, among his people had long stood their formest spokesmen and orator. In his younger day he was a famed warrior and duel- ist, and but few battles ever happened around the Aricaree villao-e in his time, that White Shield did not fieht in the front rank. The second speaker was Son of the Star, the Indian Daniel Webster. He had an intelligent countenance ; a chief of commanding appear- ance, and though a logical talker did not have the passionate vehemence of White Shield. His good judgment and able presentation of his peo- ple^'s plea, won the admiration of the General. The third speaker was Crow's Breast, the Gros Ventre, a tall raw boned chieftain whose bass voice sounded down to the toes of his moccasins. Next came Poor Wolf a modest speaker without much display of rhetoric but whose appearance com- manded attention until he sit down. Then arose Bad Gun the second chief of the Mandans. This warrior was the surviving son of Four Bears, the most noted chief of his time on the Upper Missouri, who died during the small pox epidem- ic which swept away a whole village of the Man- dans. He talked dreamily and with little force. 84 Frontier and Indian Ltff. Red Cow, head chief of the Mandans was the last of the Indian speakers. He was the succes- sor of Four Bears and had worn the toga for up- ward of thirty years. His career had been roman- tic and eventful, but he stood here a haggard-faced gray hared old man pleading for substance for his starving people. The old chiefs earnestness touched the heart of General Hancock, for when that officer arose and replied, it was in words of kindness and a thoughtful presentation of the Gov- ernment's desiieashe understood it, and that was to treat them fairly and honestly. He surprised the chiefs by his intimate knowledge of their tribel history, even to most minute details as recorded by their own aged seers; and they reckoned with reason that one who studied their history and con- ditions so closely, must bear a friendly feeling to- ward them, more especially when no mercenary motive had prompted the enquiry. As a conse- quence they had implicit faith in General Hancock. At the close of the conference, the several chiefs came forward and bid the General an effectionate farewell, — which was destined in the order of earthly events to be the first and last interview between these chiefs and that distinguished officer. Son of the Star, the Aricaree chief, in after days, speaking of this council and the results which immediately followed it, said it was as a ''rift in the passing clouds in the welfare of my people — a ray of light that did not long linger." A Rift in The Clouds. 85 An agent was recommended for appointment by the General, to succeed agent Wilkinson then in charge of the Fort Berthold agency. This new agent was Captain Walter Clifford, of the Seventh U. S. Infantry, an army officer honorable and hu- mane to a high degree. He gave the affairs of the Indians his personal supervision, and his unsel- fish interest in their welfare will ingraft his mem- ory to their hearts as long as they remain a com- munity. To them he was the one agent who was faithful to his trust and faithful in his friendship. The other agents of this agency — those who came before and those who followed in successive lines after Clifford, — these observient Indians charac- terize as daylight robbers without mercy and without shame, and have might added — or cloudy brained hopnoticized leeches who do the bidding of the unscruplous high-tide swimmers, intrenched in power by the huge waves of moral rottenness now flooding die land. m AROUND GRAND RIYSR AQENCY, 1369. ABOUT the second week in July, 1869, the writer found himself at the Cheyenne river Indian agency; having accompanied General Hancock's party by steamer to that place. This was one of three Sioux agencies established by General Harney the autumn previous; an- other being on Whetstone creek above Fort Randall, and the remaining one being located just above the confluence of the Grand and Missouri rivers. The Cheyenne agency was located about midway betcveen the two others and all three of them contained wild, turbulent Sioux bands, that, had as yet defied the restrictive and coercive mea- sures employed by the Government to bring them within easy reach of its power. To use a trap- per's phrase, a few huge "draw baits" had been put out to bring to bait the wily red man, while in a confidential and unsuspicious mood. But the lured Sioux like the baited fox or coy- ote did not rest his case on simple outside appear- ances. He watched for possible traps and dead- falls, and everywhere he roamed, or wherever he pitched his lodge, his weapons of war was his first care, and his every move was that of the vidette always on duty. They had come in from their hunting ranges at the invitation of the Govern- Around Grand River Agency, 1869. 87 ment, but their stay and their behaviour was owing to the fickleness of circumstances. The Minneconjous, Sans Arcs and Etasapas, three very unruly bands or divisions of the Sioux nation were the principal recipients of the Govern- ment annuity distribution at the Cheyenne river agency, in 1869. There were a sprinkling of other bands, but these named were more fully represented, being about three thousand in all. About the first of August, there was an almost total eclipse of the sun, and there was here en- acted at that time some strange and exciting hap- penings in the camps of these wild people. When the sun's disk began to darken, the Indians, men, woman and children began howling and screaming like mad people, and were joined in chorus by all the dogs in camp. Indians with a semi-civilized appearance but an hour before, now became the savage pure and simple, outdoing the African Hot- tentot, the Bushman or the Mantabelle, in wild origies and heathenish rites. The firing of guns towards the darkened sun, roaring like a battle, and amidst the noise cries of ''wake him up — wake him up — the sun is sleeping," could be heard above the racket and would be repeated over and over again. The agency interpreter then came up to the camp and reminded us that our presence among them at that time in their frenzied state was dangerous, not only to ourselves but to the balance of the employees of the agency, as the mere presence of a white man amongst the reds 88 Frontier and Indtan Like. at such a time would invite death from the hand of some medicine making fanatic, and when once blood was shed, their curbinor would be difficult. Some days after the eclipse, a hf^avy storm ac- companied by terrific lightening and deafening peals of thunder swept over the camp, and one whole family killed by lightening in one lodge, and a solitary woman in another part of the village. Several medicine men in the tribes laid the disaster to evil spirits superinduced by whites, when some relatives of the stricken families thus sacrificed, armed themselves with the intention of shootino- down the first "white face" that crossed their path, and when such word reached the agen- cy, curiosity tours to the Indian village, lacked in- terest among the employees. Tov/ard the latter part of August, I boarded the little stearn wheeler, Peninah, Captain Haney, of Pittsburg in command, and steamed up the Missouri, to the Grand river agency, in obedience to a request from Contractor Dillon, to serve as guard, outrider and dispatch bearer between his various camps, then doing business in that end of the Sioux reservation. The rendesvous or head- quarters of the contractor and his partner. Charles McCarthy, was on the east bank of the Missouri, and nearly opposite the mouth of Grand river. Three divisions of the Sioux were here repre- sented, the Blackfeet, Two Bear's Yanktoney, and the Lower Uncpapas. Considerable trouble had occurred about one month previous at the agency Around Grand River Agency, 1869. 89 by the aggressive Uncpapas, and the killing of the white employees and destruction of the agency buildings and stores was only averted by the de- termined will and bravery of a few friendly dis- posed Yanktoney and Bbxkfeet. After a few days rest at the agency a dispos- ition was made of the various gangs, and it fell to the writer's portion tC) be of a party of four hay- makers 10 commence the season's cut on the Blue Blanket creek, on the east bank of the Missouri. The first night out we made camp on the river's bank, opposite Blue Blanket island, and about six miles from the agency. We had with us four rniiles, a pair of them being just purchased from the Indians, and a remarkable fine team,. After making camp and having supper, my companions went down along the river bank a few hundred yards, for the purpose of fishing and bathing, while I remained behind to look after the camp and the mules. A hard wind had been blowing all day, and as the great red sun was slowly decending be- low the distant bluffs, the wind slackened into fitful gusts. While taking observations from camp over the plains, my eyes rested on some objects among- the high grass in a swail not over tour hundred yards from the o^razino- mules. A waft of wind bending the tall swaying grass, had first ma.rked the objects indistinctly, but a heavier draft immediately follow^ed, revealed a lot of painted Indians crawling on their hands and knees heading toward the stock. Alarming mv compan- 90 Frontier and Indian Life. ions who came running up with their clothes in one hand and guns in the other, we rushed out near the mules, and laying on the grass, were prepared to meet the onslaught. But the Indians evidently finding themselves discovered, retreated under cover of darkness, although not knowing it at the time, we kept vigilant guard until daylight. In the early morning. Contractor Dillon and the Government chief Thunder and Lightning came riding into our camp. Thunder and Lightning was the accredited chief of a band of Sissetons; yet chief making by the strong arm and good offices of the Government when not supported with the pronounced approved judgment of the tribe, were usually failures. In other words to use the In- dians' figurative and expressive vernacular he had *'sat down" as a chief of the Sissetons, and with a following of three lodo-es had betook himself from the scenes of his earlier ambition and was now roving the plains ?.nd at this time was an unpre- tentious guest of the Ya.nktoneys. Dillon was uneasy on our account from what had happened at the agency the afternoon before. The agency herder, a you no;" man named Cook, while on duty, and with no wc!apon but a whip, had been approached by a mounted Uncpapa and several arrows shot in his body. The Indian, who was a brother of the chief Long Soldier after com- mitting the dG&d, rode up to the agency uath a crowd of followers and proclaimed aloud that they would slauehter the first white men who turned a Around Grand River Agency, 1869. 91 furrow with a breaking plow or cut a swath with a mowing maqhine around the Grand river agency. As considerable excitement followed this episode, Dillon secured the services of the red knight er- rant, Thunder and Lightning and son John, to help guard the hay camp against an attack from their hostile brethren. The acts of the lurking Indians the evening before, confirmed the necessity of vig- ilence, and as evening drew near, plans for our defense were studied out Thunder and Light- ning and myself decided on taking the first watch from the twilight hour until midnight. The old Sisseton took post at the river bank near a point of willows, while my position was flat on the grass near the picketed mules. The moon arose in its full, and only at times llghdy obscured by fleecy white clouds, with not even the shrill whistling of an elk, the dull thudding alarms of traveling bea- ver, or the skurrying through the air of passing wild fowls, so common at that time of the season along the Upper Missouri. So still, indeed, had our surroundings become, that soothing nods of quasi sleep lapped the links of time, as the hours swiftly glided toward midnight. Danger that had stalked In a distorted form to the twilight vision, became the mere substance of shadow, as the chilly air marked passing time. About the time I was thinking of waking up the relief guard, some one came crawling toward me from the direction of the camp. It was the old Sisseton, and he motioned me to follow him. As he drew near the 02 Frontier and Indian Life. edge of the willows, he made the siorn of silence and then pointed to some objects in the river. At first I was inclined to think it a bull boat war par- ty but as they approached our shore they were easily defined, and were six Indians swimming their horses. Not a word u^as spoken by them, and even in swimming, the spashing came to us in mufiled sounds. The Sisseton whispered to me in Sioux, that he had first noticed them coming out from the shadows of Blue Blanket island. We awaited undl the^' landed on a bar above camp, and from their silent speech and actions, we became convinced they were on a hostile raid, and so alarmed camp; then the mounted warriors took to the praries on the run. Harmless Kelly, of our party, again, as on the alarm the night previous, took the scare crow view of mat':ers, and kept up a shot gun fusilade until daylight upon ever imag- inable thing, even to shadows made by the moon, but possibly help accomplish the main object — scare off the Indians and save our mules. Now an ins.ance of Indian tenacity. One year later at that very place, on the same business, these same mules were picketed. Harmless Kelly, too, was with this latter parly, and had spent the evening telling his new comrades the two nights adventures with a war party in August, 1869, on the raise of ground where their tent was then pitched. But watchful Thunder and Lightning was not there to guard camp, and th(^ yawning haymakers retired to their blankets, while the grazing mules changed masters before the dawn. A WAR WOMAN, WITH the increase of population and mining operations in Montana after the discovery and opening of the gold mines in 1862, and the construction of additional military posts along the Upper Missouri, came also the increase of the boating business between the city of Saint Louis. Missouri, and Fort Benton, Montana, the last named place being the head of navigation on the Missouri river. In the years I867-8 and 1869, the tonnage of freight transported up this river was enormous, over thirty steamers being constandy employed during the season of navigadon in its transpor- tation. While the wood along the timbered bends for nearly a thousand miles of the steamer's course, could be had for the chopping and takino- for steam heating and other necessary purposes, yet the difficulty and loss of time by the boats crew in finding dry wood within the range of the tie-up, led the owners and captains of these steamers to induce a class of men to establish woodyards at convenient distances apart along the banks border- ing the channel of the stream. Each camp or yard, for the most part acting independent of the other, the price of wood being regulnted by its 94 Frontier and Indian Life. particular location, or the kind and quality of the wood in rank. The life led by these isolated wood choppers or owners of the woodyards, was, owing- to the hun- dreds of miles of territory roamed over by bands of hostile Indians, likened unto a guard or sen- tinal continually at his post. His life or his prop- erty was ever insecure. Thus it was, that during the years above mentioned, nearly or quite one- third of these men so employed lost their lives, the wood destroyed and stock run off by Indians. A party of this class of men, together with some professional hunters, wolfers and trappers, having- congregated at the Painted Woods — a heavy body of timber on the Missouri, midway between the military posts of Forts Rice and Stevenson — during- the autumn of 1869, a band of eleven of them were enlisted by Morris & Gluck, two enterprising woodyard proprietors, to open up a new yard be- tween that point and Fort Stevenson. The point selected was called Tough Timber, near the present town of Hancock, McLean Coun- ty. Here on the nth of November of that year, was commenced the second and last fortifitrd stock- ade ever erected within the boundaries of that North Dakota county. The first being Fort Man- dan, erected at Elm Point, in November, 1804, by the Lewis and Clark expedition, as winter quar- ters The buildings constructed by the wood- choppers at Tough Timber consisted of two large log shacks facing each other, with a horse stable A Wak Wr^MAN. 95 at one side between the main buildings, the whole enclosed with a picket of sharp pointed logs, placed iiprioht. The stockade was located near the lower end of the timber among a scattering b'Unch of big old cottonwoods and within one hun- dred yards of the river bank. About the first of December rumors reached the Missouri of an uprising of the half breeds and others in the present British province of Mani- toba, and a provisional government set in motion by the insurgents, with headquarters at Fort Gar- ry, a Hudson Bay fur company post, which they had captured. The insurrection grew out of some injustice done the resident half breeds by the offxers of the home government of Ontario. It vas charged by the Ontario authorities, however, that the whole trouble originated in the fertile liTiin of the Hon. Enos Stutsman, a U. S. custom house o^f.cer at Pembina, and for many years a member of the Dakota Territorial Legislature. — How true the charges were is not positively known, ^he principals now being dead, but it was admitted 1 y those who ought to know, that the talented American drafted the Bill of Rights for the Provisional goverement, wrote their Constitu- tion, and was at all times during these s tiring days, an intimate advisor of General Louis Riel, ^the insurgent leader. With the wafting breeze that brought the first news of the Red River rebellion over to the Up- per Missouri country came also the rumor that 96 Frontier and Indian Liki:. John George Brown, of Fort Stevenson, was commissioned to raise a force of hardy frontiers- men and come over at once to General Reil's assistance. Brown was an Irishman, married to a Cree half breed woman, and it was said he had formerly been an officer in the British army. At the time of receiving his commission from the insurgent leader, he was post interpretor at Fort Steven- son. An organization for the help of the half- breeds' Republic was attempted at points along the Missouri, but the vacillating conduct of the leaders in Manitoba, weakened the resolutions of those beyond the border, who wished them ready success. A "medicine lodge" for Reil's cause had been formed at the Tough Timber, where the long nights and isolation, demanded a stimulant for mental exercise. Wheeler, a frontiersman who had considerable experience was elected chief of the lodge, and the Deitrich brothers, chief's coun- cellors; Flopping Bill, head soldier, and the hum- ble scribe of these pages "keeper of the records." On New Year's day, 1870, two Aricaree hun- ters came to Tough Timber and asked to encamp within the gates of the stockade, as they claimed to have some fears that hostile Sioux were in the neighborhood. At the break of day next morning the writer was awakened from sleep by screeches and sounds resembling an owl in distress. I lo- cated the sounds as along the river bank near where a trap was set for a wolf, and concluded A War \\V)max. 97 the meat bait had drew his owlship to a feast, and was caught, so prepared to go and release it. The sounds had also awakened the Indians, who seeing me prepare to sally out, and divining my intentions, Red Shield jumped up excitedly and grasping my arm, said in pigeon English! *'Hol on, hoi on ! Sioux, Sioux, it's Sioux." And meantime motioning me to remain in doors. The two Indians jumped for their saddles and slinging them on the poni<\s, asked me to unbar the gates and after passing out advising their instant closing mounted their ponies, passed along the trail through the timber to the prairie bluffs. It was undoubtedly the indistinctness of early dawn that gave the Aricarees the start, for we afterwards learned that a war party of Sioux had envested our stockade the whole night long for these two scalps, but did not discover their successful flight, until the morning light revealed them gliding swiftly along on the whitened prairie. And then commenced a silent chase, the Sioux wisely avoid- ing Fort Stevenson, and making a detour to the left for this purpose, but crossing the river oppos- ite the bad lands midway between Forts Stevenson and Berthold. Meantime the two Aricaree hunt- ers rode into Fort Stevenson and rested several hours before resuming their journey to the village anxl Red Shields even then dallied along the trail and on entering the bad lands was confronted by a band of twenty-five Sioux warriors. After the first amazement was over, Red Shield attempted a 9^ P^'kontier and Indian Life. a stand; was badly wounded, but tying himself on his pony the faithful beast brought him in safety to his lodge. Behind him like a band of panting wolves tireing down their prey, increasing in num- bers as they came on, until over two hundred Sioux warriors bore down neck and ncxk on the surprised village at Fort Berdiold. The Sioux had well calculated on the a]}sence of the principal parL of the \illage inhabiianls; they being out in their usual hunting quarters several miles further up the river, and but little resistance could ]3e expected to their determination to des- troy the helpless, little town. But Major Wainwright, the gallant and humane commandant of Fort Stevenson, had also made a calculation. A courier from Fort Rice had alrc:ady apprised him of the expected war party, and that officer knowing the defenseless condition of the remaining Indians at the agency — l.eing for th(^ most part the aged and infirm — had sent up a part of a battery of artillery under charge of a good gunner, and the pieces were masked in an old dirt lodge, meeting the charging Sioux with a belch of grape and canister. This was so unexpc!c:ed to the over-confident warriors that they were dazed, thrown in a panic, scatlered, and fled across the river among the bluffs southeast of the village. On this same afternoon a meeting was held at the Tough Timber, by all that were congregated there at the time, over a deer roast with a big- open fire and an animated discussion concerning A War Woman. 99 the propriety of an early spring expedition to help out General Reil against British domination in the great interior basin of the Saskatchewan. The sub- ject brought out an abundant display of camp fire rhetoric, but was quickly hushed by the sudden and rapid reverberating sounds of artillery firing that echoed and re-echoed along the bends and bluffs of the frozen river. Everybody at the council jumped to their feet, and it was at once surmised by the direction of the sounds, that a fight was going on near Fort Berthold, and that the use of artillery meant that the soldiers were taking a hand. We also concluded that Sioux defeat by soldier interference would prompt them in their hour of humiliation and rage, to attack the first outlying woodyard on their homeward path, and that, of course, would mean ours. All haste was thereupon made for vigorous defense of the stockade. An anxious night followed at the woodyard. — At daybreak I was detailed to take a walk around outside of the stockade, and after an hour's tire- some stalking, returned with the information that nothing unusual could be seen. But the report was hardly made before a vigorous thumping was heard at the outside gate, when everybody in the room jumped for their rifles. Johnny Deitrich, meantime cautiously peering through a porthole, whispered in seeming accents of alarm, ''A war woman.'* lOO P^KONTIKR AND InDTAN LtFE. A war woman ! Shades of the blood-thirsty Stataans, of the forks of Platte river, where the war woman, hid- eously dressed and painted, rode beside the war- rior in every fray to hack and mutilate the dead I War woman, long the sacred female of the Paw- nees and Aricarees of other days — ^who led every forlorn hope or accompanied every enterprise of desperate danger, and stood "medicine" to every calamity ! War woman — the ghoul of the Lipians of the Mexican border, and blood drinking tiend of the Tontas of thc^ desert 1 Who amongst us at such a time and such a place wanted to see a war t\^oman? Yet the ponderous gate was unbolted and its unwildy frame swung backwai'd and the muffled figure moved within the enclosure. It was sure enough an Indian woman, and to all appearances was alone, though as a precpaitionary measure the gate was closed and bolted behind her, and she was bidden be seated by a warm lire iu the cook room; which invitation she accepted, with a hesita- ting, modest mien. She was tightly wrapped in a long blanket of spotless white. Her age might have been about thirty years, and the blue star tattoed on her forhead and cut of features told us. without asking that she was of the Sioux nation. Being at this time the only one of the party with any knowledge of the Sioux language, 1 was com- missioned interpreter for the occasion, and asked her whither she was traveling. JOHN GRASS. A War Woman. ioi ''Fort Stevenson," she answered crisply. Then after some hesitation she told her story. She was of the Blackfoot band of the Sioux na- tion, and althoiicrh nurtured and raised amono- her people she chose a husband among her tribe's herititary foes. During a temporary truce she visited her relatives at the Grand River agency As she came alone she was treated as a penitent. — restored to the love and confidence of those whom she once abandoned. While at the agency she learned of the organiza- tion of a war party to revenge the disasters that had befallen Two Bears and his Yanktoneys at Heart river and the coulee of Four Bears, the past summer. The leadership was to be intrusted to young John Grass the oldest son of Chief Grass the honored head of the Blackfoot band. The expedition was being well and secretly planned. Nothing but an accident could save die predetermined destruction of the Indian village at Fort Berlhold and the wholesale slaughter of its inhabitants. Plain duty to her kith and kin demanded that she should remain in her lodee and assist her sis- ters; prepare articles of comfort for the out going braves. But the promptings of her heart willed otherwise. She saw that her husband's people was in danger of annihilation. She would save him and them. To do this she must travel through deep crusted snow afoot and alone for upward of two hundred miles along the frozen bed of the I02 Frontier and Indtan Like. the Missouri. She had undertaken it and the journey had been a most trying one. The intense cold, the crusted sand bars; the danger at night from mountain lions and wolves, while camping in some cheerless willow patch, and a scanty supply of pemmican and corn, and even that being finally exhausted and actual starvation averted by the timely find of a frozen buck deer in an air hole near Mandan btke, — ^were some of the perils with which she had been environed. All for her Aric- aree husband's sake. Her courage and iron in- durance heretofore so bravely kept up, utterl)^ gave way at the mouth of Knife river, but an hour before her arrival at the stockade. Here, while dragging herself slowly along, John Grass and his defeated war party of two hundred came suddenly out to view from along the black line of willows tliat marked the outlines of Knife river's icy bed. What could she do ? By Indian law discovery would be her death. But death liad but little terror now. Her mission, after all was a failure. It was snowing, and by rare presence of mind she sank quietly in the snow and envel- oped in her white blanket, the whole wai* party passed in review by her but a few hundred yards away without noting her prescence. Her concluding words were son'owfully ren- dered: ''I have but to go on to my husband's lodge now. I can never again return to the Blackfeet." The morning following was intensely cold. The A War Woman. 103 thermometer registering forty degrees below zero, with a fierce cutting wind blowing down from Arctic lands. The Sioux woman, already badly frost-bitten in face, feet and hands on her misera- ble trip, would again hazard her life to inclement elements, for she determined to resume her jour- ney in search of her Aricaree brave. She had left him doing duty as military scout at Fort Ste- venson. As she neared that post on this January day, the wreathing columns- of black smoke beck- ened her hopefully forward. The post sentry from his box hailed her as she passed by, but on recog- nition, was not delayed. Her pace quickened now; her frosted face reddened in feverish glow as she sped on. See, her husband's lodge is still at the old place, and she has sighted it; her heart-beats grow tremulous and fast. The door is reached — reached at last — poor women. With an expectant and joyful bound, she raises the door flaps and stood unannounced within. With one wild look no artist can imitate or imagination portray, she sank down on a mat of skins at the doorway. — Her husband was indeed there — but by his side sat — in seeming happy content, and wreathed in smiles— a younger and fairer female fact-. In June, 1876, I took charge of Rhude's Turtle Creek Ranch, while its owner was sight-seeing across Minnesota's fair and flowery fields. One foggy morning about the first of the month, and just as the sun was rising, I heard a loud and dis- I04 Frontier AND Indtan Life. tinct Indian. It came from the high bUiff just across the creek, and opposite the ranch a hun- dred yards away. On going to the door, to my dismay, nearly one hundred and fifty Indians were ranged along the bluffs, mounted and sitting com- plaisantly in their saddles. One of these, in sten- torian tones, demanded of me in the Sioux tongue to know where the crossing place was and by this sign I knew they were strangers. After passing around to the ford, they crossed and the whole crew came galloping up around the ranch, when an oldish man dismounted, and advancing with arms folded-— an unfriendly sign — said in the un- mistakable dialect of the Santees: ''Do you know Little Mountain ?'' "Yes, I replied, ''I know you. Little Mountain.^ I met you on the ridges of the upper White Earth two years ago when you were leaving the buffalo grounds for your home in the lands of your white mother.'* ''Land of my white mother, '' drawled out the chief in sarcastic tones, and after helping himself to a drink of water, remounted his horse and with a wave of his hand signalled his command forward. One alone remained — ^a female — the only one I had noticed in the party. She sat as- tride her pony as motionless and expressionless as a marbled nymph of the fountain. Her keen black eyes peered out towards me from between the parting folds of her scarlet blanket, and then after a steady gaze of two or three miuutes, threw A War Woman. T05 back the hooded mask, saying as interpreted from her native Sioux: *'Do you know me — do you remember me, say?" After a glance at her weather-beaten counten- ance for a minute or so, recognition of her came, though seven years had passed since we last met and then an acquaintance of but a day. I told her. finally, who I thought she was, and why. "You have nothing to fear from us here," she said quietly, emphasizing the last word and then rode out and rejoined her companions. While watching the war party ascending the bluffs, my thoughts again reverted to the chief. His words, ''do you know Little Mountain were again recalled. Yes I knew of him, but under another name. I knew of him since that cold December day in 1857, when under the leader- ship of Inkpaduta, they destroyed the town of Spirit Lake, Iowa, and killed its inhabitants. I had heard of his cold hand and stony heart in the Minnesota Sioux outbreak of 1862; and when pressed by avenging troops, he fled with chief Little Six over to Fort Garry and claimed refuge and a home on British soil. But unlike his chief was not enveigled back to the American side to be straneled to death. Had I the eyes of futurity I could have seen more on that June morning. I could have seen this warrior band after leaving the bluffs of Turtle creek, head directly for the Indian crossing at io6 Frontier AND Indian Life. Upper Knife river; could have seen them, after crossing the Missouri river, take the high divide for the mouth of Powder river, thence up the Yel- lowstone valley across to the place of gathering hostile clans along the Little Big Horn; could have seen the impetuous charge of Custer and his men and the fierce fight that followed; could have seen in the immediate front of Custer's battalions the refuo^ee Santees — outside of the Northern Cheyennes, or possibly the Ogallalla Tetons — the best deciplined and bravest troops in this In- dian army. I could have seen after the last of Custer's men had fallen — coming out from the ranks of these Santees, and gliding and striking like a hesitating serpent among the dead and dying soldiers, the most dreaded of horrors to the helplessly wounded on an Indian battlefield — an avenging red Nemesis — a war woman. ^ SECONDGROUP. An Incident at Old Fort Union. EARLY DAYS AROUND FORT BUFORD. FORT Buford was for many years the most noted military post along the Upper Missouri. The site was laid out and building commenced June 15th, 1866, on a high bench of table land on the Missouri, and nearly opposite the mouth of the Yellowstone river. For a period reaching over thirty years, there had been established and doing a good business for its proprietors, an Indian trading post, located about three miles northwest of the new military post. The trading post was known as Fort Union, and was built from material after the Spanish- American fashion, — a composition of sun dried brick called, adobe. The first resident agent of the fur company at Fort Union, was a Scotch gen- tleman named Mackenzie. The year 1832, the noted painter and writer, George Catlin, made a several weeks' stay at this place and was hand- somely entertained by the hospitable Gael. The ardst found exciting and romantic situations for pen and pencil. The scenes that he and other venturesome travelers describe around old Fort Union, prove that from the earliest information we have of that section, that it was a central fighung ground for numerous warlike tribes. Being near the centre of the great northern buffalo range, io8 Frontier and Indian Life. the country thereabout was seldom devoid of In- habitants. A lone butte notheast of the present Fort Buford, a few miles, mark the site of the close of the adventurous career of this Scotch trader. He had been in the habit of riding out for daily exercise, unmindful of the dangers that be.- set him. One of his favorite points was the butte that now bears his name. From its pinnacle a vast scope of country could be seen, and he took pleasure in watching the great herds of buffaloes that grazed upon the plains. His trips became marked by a band of scalp hunting red men, and one day was ambushed and slain while in the act of decending from his perch. It was here also, the chronicles of that epic tell us, that by the frowning mud walls of this old trading post, another agent in charge lost his pretty half breed wife, by the aching heart and deft hands of a sturdy South Assinaboine brave, who had been loitering around in front of the fort mounted upon a tractable charger. The petted wife was basking in the morning sun near the unguarded gateway, when she was suddenly seized by the brawny arms of the impetuous wooer, and lifted up and thrown across his saddle, and plung- ing his heels in his spirited pony's flanks was soon scurrying the prairies. The disconsolate husband and a few retainers followed out a short ways but gave up the chase. Whether the young bride was ever recoved by the trader the chronicles do not inform us, a missing link, as it were, in the old Early Days /\round Fort ByFORD. 109 adobe fort's history, but the most probable end of the romance was that it took prosaic form, that the prairie nurtured bride found congeniaHty in the tented Hfe along the Riviere Du Lac, with so galliant admirer for protector; while the trader's grief was seared over by the plentiful offers that moved the red parents of pretty maids to place themselves in close alliance with the dispensor of bright calicoes, shining beads and other fineries that tempt the cupidity of the savage breast Fort Buford was constructed for a garrison of four hundred men. The first commander, was Colonel Rankin, of the old Thirty-First regiment, U. S. Infantry, afterward consolidated with the present Twenty-Second regiment, U. S. Infantry. After the massacre of the soldiers at Fort Phil Kearney, in December, 1866, large bodies of Sioux moved down the Yellowstone to the mouth of Powder river, where buffalo were more plenti- ful; and the Uncpapa branch of that nation were particularly hostile to the occupation of that sec- tion by the military. ^ In January, 1867, Sitting Bull, then just rising to note among Black Moon's band of Uncpapas, headed a large war party and made a systematic investment of Fort Buford, encamping opposite the post in the timber at the junction of the two great rivers. On one occasion he sallied out with a force of warriors and captured the saw mill near the landing and vigorously beat time on the huge circular saw as a drum, adding his own sonorious no Frontier AND Indian Life. voice, while his young braves danced sprightly around on fast time, to the disgust of the bad gunners at the fort who vainly endeavored to turn a corner on their mirth by dropping around them whistling, fuseless shells. Several soldiers and citizens were killed by these Indians in the immediate vicinity of the post during the winter. In the four following years Fort Buford was virtually in a state of seige, twice losing their beef herds and other stock. During the close of haying season of 1867, the haymakers were undisturbed. Not a hostile In- dian had been seen. The hay parties were well armed and vigilant. But two loads remained to be hauled to close the contract. A young man named Roach and a colored man called Tom were assigned to bring these last hay loads up from the Little Muddy, "We will not bother with our guns this time," said Roach and they started off without them. The next day a search party found the hay loaded, the teams gone and the mangled bodies of the two h«iy haulers near by. They had been beaten to death with whiffle trees taken from one of their own wagons. Twenty one arrows was sticking in each corpse. In the early part of August, 1868, a war party of about seventy Indians attacked the herd below the fort, killed, two herders, Max Layman and Beal, and u^ounded Henderson, Cooper and Zook, all soldiers. The military from the fort under Lieutenant Cusickgave chase, captured one Indian and killed one and was himself severely wounded. Early Days Around Fort Buford. hi One of the most noted events during this period of the investment was the kilHng of Diigan, "Dutch" Adams, McLean, and the Itahan, Ranal- do. This took place about two miles from the fort on the Little Muddy ha}' trail, August loth, 1869. These men had just come down from Fort Peck, and were mere sojourners at Fort Buford, and were bound down to the contractor's first hay camp eight miles below. They had been asked by Moffit's party who were then at the post unload- ing their hay to remain and return down with them but they prefered not to wait, so pushed on down the trail, riding in a double seated spring wagon and a led horse. The Indians were in hiding in a deep water cut coulee, to the number of two hun- dred, and were completely hidden from view along the trail. The Indians were stripped for a fight, evidently laying in wait for Capt. Bob Mof- fit, and his outgoing hay train, when this party of four men appeared within their circle of am- bush. Over one hundred rifles sent their death messengers among the astounded group in the wagon box. All three horses were killed at the first fire, and some of the men wounded. They all jumped from the wagon and attempted a re- treat for cover. A few hundred yards to the left of the road the hunted men made a stand in a buffalo wallow, and in thirty minutes all four were dead. Renaldo, although dressed conspicuously in a gaudy red shirt was the last to fall, as evinced from his position when found. He died within 112 Frontier AND Indian Life. sight of the flag staff. The bodies were found an hour later by George Rhude and Isaac Howy, of Moffit's train, and taken to the miHtary post.— About the same time an attack was made on the camp at Painted Woods creek, but the Indians were repulsed without loss to the haymakers. The Indians engaged in this affair were from mixed bands of hostile Sioux, and their loss has never been definitely ascertained. One dead Indian, on- ly, was found on the line of the retreating braves. The summer months of 1870, opened at Fort Buford with the usual demonstrations from hostile Sioux. Yellowstone Kelly, a reckless frontiers- man, and his companion Longhair Smith success- fully ran the gauntlet and supplied the garrison occasionally with fresh elk and deer meat from the Yellowstone. Kelly was reckoned a sort .of a bor- der Sphinx, and had earned something of an Adam Poe reputation by killing two Sioux two years be- fore near Upper Knife river. He was carrying the Fort Buford mail; was attacked by these two Indians and he shot back. About the middle of June, a party of wood- haulers in the employ of the Government con- tractor while leasurly whacking their bull teams along the trail about two miles above the adobe walls of old Fort Union, were horrified to see a body of Indians raise up from among the sage brush and open fire at short range. What made the teamsters situation more trying was that they Early Days Around Fort Buford. 113 anticipating no danger had foolishly shot away their ammunition along the road that morning at prairie grouse, plover and targets, and had but lit- tle left for a time of need. The startled teamsters broke for cover in a timbered ravine, while some mounted scouts ran back to Buford and alarmed the garrison. Meantime, after killing all the cat- tle in the train, the Indians turned their attention to the terrified bulhvhackers holed in the ravine, and making a complete surround the exultant red men commenced to feather them with ar- rows and ^vould have soon killed them all had not relief (rom the fort came at the opportune time. A call by the contractor for more cidzens to help along the lagging work, found the writer and several others of the Fort Stevenson neighbor- hood, on their way to Fort Buford, early in July of the same year. At the White Earth river we were joined by a band of disgusted wood choppers from a fortified woodyard at North Bend, and were caught up to by George Kiplin the half breed mail carrier and his rolicking partner, "Scotty" Rich- mond. If presentiment of coming shadows cast their spells over men and chain down their thoughts with impending revelation, such forewarning cer- tainly haunted spectre like the movements of the brave half breed on this trip. He was usually rash and reckless, verging the dare-devil order, but after joining our crowd seemed very nervous and was continually expressing his fears that some- thing awful would overtake us before the journey's 114 Frontier AND Indian Life. end. We run the Fort Buford gauntlet safely, but Kiplin returned to Fort Berthold a corpse. Among the party of wood-choppers from the North Bend, was a young man named Aldrich, commonly known along the river as "Teck" Aid- rich. He was about twenty years old, clear blue eyes, supple and graceful in his motions, tall and straight as an arrow. He wore his hair long — the conventional frontier style — and otherwise togged himself up in the prevailing fashion on the border. He was rather bashful in conversation, and seldom spoke out an opinion unless asked to do so, and yet he w^as the recognized leader of the party. He was a good marksman, a successful hunter, and although in a dangerous neighborhood usually hunted afoot and alone, packing his game into camp on his shoulders. He became the uni- versal favorite of the whole party, and was voted the spokesman on our entry into the fort. On our arrival we scattered out to the different sta- tions, Teck becoming day guard for the wood con- tractor's camp at the mouth of the Yellowstone, nearly opposite the fort. Guards in these danger- ous and exposed places, were generally chosen for their good sound ears, quick eyesight, and also some r(^gard for their hunting qualities, as watch- ing around gives them opportunity to note the whereabouts of, and plentiful Icasure the con- venience and time to kill and dress their gr.me, and thus keep the camp larder well supplied with fresh wild meat. Early Days Around Fort Buford. 115 The morning of the 25th of September, of that year, was clear and calm; the sun arose serenely over the bluffs of the divide, and after a lingering fog slowly raised from the slow rolling waters of these two majestic streams, its rays sparkled and glistened on the heavy dew drops that covered the low valley and high plain. The heavy-leafed cottonwoods grlinted in the sunlicrht with its au- tumn tinted shades of mixed yellow and green, looked soft and picturesque to an admiring eye. — The light saffron colored bluffs on the high divide, alone e^ve the morninsf view a sombre cast. It was on such a scene as this that Teck Aldrich looked, after having rolled from his blankets and stood on the river bank, gun in hand for his morn- ing's watch and hunt. The fort opposite, by a kind of mirage, rose high above the banks — its whitened walls and shining windows seeming more to opdcal illusion and the fantasy of imagination, the abode of disembodied spirits, rather than the unappreciated home of a lot of tough old soldiers in the flesh. Young Aldrich had been barbered of his long hair the day before, seemingly a fatal omen to many frontiermen; but with ritie to his shoulder he strode out through the cottonwood grove to the bullberry openings, adjoining the bluffs. He saw neither deer or elk, where on previous morn- ings he had met them in numbers. This alone should have made him pause and reflect; and he probably did, but the camp would expect a fresh ii6 Fron'iiij^ AND Indian Life. deer for breakfast, and one he must bring them. He had now advanced to the outside opening near the bluffs, when from the tall grass, and from the screen of bullberry and choke cherry bushes, rose fully two hundred hideously painted and yell- ing savages, each and all eager for his scalp. He did not run. He did not even turn his back; but sprang forward among his swifdy encircling foes, face to face — and though the odds were two hun- dred against one, commenced to pump his Win- chester, and at every crack of the rifle a painted form washed his face in the morning dew— five shots and five dead Indians; but on the sixth shot the plunger of his rifle became misplaced and with a dispairing cry he sprang forward with his gun as club, but his w^ork was done. He was instantly hacked to pieces with tomahawks and knife point- ed war clubs. "I have helped to kill a great many white peo- ple along this river," said Red Shirt, an Uncpapa chief, while on a visit to Grennell's ranch near Strawberry island, in 1875, "but I never saw one fight so well or die so bravely as that boy at the mouth of the Yellowstone. A WAR PARTY OF TERES. SOME time durincr the latter part of July, 1870. while with the hay contractor's camp at Fort Buford, 'we moved up the river bottom to the springs, some twelve miles northwest of the post. The springs were in a large coulee shut up among the hills; and contained considerable grass, which our party soon converted into fine hay. One sul- try afternoon, while busy at work, some of the men were surprised at the sudden appearance of a mounted Indian, and who seemed no less sur- prised than they at coming so unexpectedly on a camp of white men at that place. All hands went and picked up their guns and surrounded the In- dian boy — for a boy he proved to be — and as many of the men already had considerable taste of the bitter of Indian hostility, they were not slow in bringing him to a "talk" concerning his business in these parts. He announced himself a Santee which tribe by the way was in very bad repute at the time along the Upper Missouri. He said, furthermore his destination was Fort Buford where his band were then encamped. From the fact that the boy when first seen was heading directly away from the fort, and that some of the party who claimed to know, said there were no Santees encamped around the post up to that ii8 Frontier AND Indian Life. very morning rather prejudiced the minds of men who wanted but a small excuse for conscience sake to "rub out the Indian." While this examinadon was going on, being the regular night guard of the camp, I was awak- ened from my midday slumber by one of the day guards who said I was wanted as interpreter in the matter of a "corraled" Indian. Shaking off the blankets I arose, went out and greeted the confused and somewhat frightened boy kindly. — He was mounted upon a fine pony, though the an- imal was in a lather of sweat and seemed weary. The Indian boy had a Hawkins muzzle-loading rifle slunor across in front of him and no clothincr on his person but a single breech cloth. Taken altogether, was a very suspicious looking outfit for a man of peaceful habits. My dialectic knowl- edge convinced me the lad was of some Santee band. Some of the party were for killing him out- right, but were shamed out of it by the calmer judgment of others. He was therefore allowed to depart which he did very quickly. My part- ing admonition to him to bear toward the fort so long as he was in sight of our party, or he might be followed up and killed. I half suspected he belonged to or w^as making his way to Standing Buffalo's band of Santees, who were then camped somewhere on Milk river. At any ratc^ die young warrior — if such he was — put in no appearance at Fort Buford, and except with a chronicle anteda- ting the scene at the spring — his fate is unknown. A War PAinvoF Three. 119 Two or three days after the appearance and dis- appearance of the Santee boy, a paymaster and escort arrived at Fort Biiford from Fort Stevenson, who gave an account of an affair that fully ac- counted for the lost and terrified appearance of the Santee lad. The particulars of the affair was ful- ly discussed on their arrival and from which I memorized the following: The escort was commanded by Major Dickey, of the 22nd U. S. Infantry, of Fort Stevenson. The command consisted of twenty men, and the first day out encamped near the Rising Waters, a small stream some twenty-five miles up the river trail from Ft. Berthold. While here encamped they werf^ met by two mail riders coming down from Fort Buford, Keplin and ''Scotty" Richmond, two of the most fearless of the frontier mail car- riers. While the parties were thus encamped at their nooning, three Indians were seen coming over the bluffs from the direction of the Fort Ber- thold agency, mounted and riding at full speed, but on seeing the military campers, shied the road and dashed toward some timbered ravines in the direction of the Slides, near the Missouri. Seeing the Indians making this, if not unfriendly, at least unacountable move, Major Dickey ordered up some soldiers and with Kiplin in the lead went after the fleeing Indians. George Kiplin, was one of the decendents of the orignal Scotch founders of the famous Selkirk settlement on the Red River of the North. His 20 Frontii:r ani) IxTvr.w Life. mother was ?l Cree woman as were most of the Indian wives of the original Selkirk colony. Kip- lin was thoroughly conversant with many of the Indian languages contingent to that section of country. He was considered one of the most trustworthy mail carrier's on the northern plains. On this occasion, and at this critical time the mail carriers had secured possession of some bad whiskey and Kiplin was under influence when he led the charge. He was far in advance of the soldiers, but when the pursued reached the foot of a timbered ravine they reined up their panting ponies and awaited with evident unconcern the coming of Kiplin and the soldiers. "Who are you?" yelled Kiplin in Sioux to the Indians, as he rode up within good call, though he halted for reply and seemed evidently discom- fited by the sublime nonchalance of the Indians. "I am Bad Hand, the Sisseton," replied the self possessed warrior, and pointing his hand to his companions, added, "these are my friends, I see you are white soldiers. My people are good friends of the vjhites. Why do you pursue us?" "I have come to fight you," Kiplin said quickly. "Then fight it is !" cried the swarthy Sisseton, raising his gun to his face; with the word a rifle's report, and Kiplin dropped from his horse with a ball through his heart. The triumphant red then dismounted and rushing up to the dead man taking up his charged needle gun and belt of cartridges ran back to the shelter of the grove. A War Par IV of Three. 121 About this time a large body of mounted In- dians was seen by the solders riding furiously to- ward them from over the brow of a line of bluffs, and the commander, knowing that his duty was to protect the paymaster, and fearing this incoming mass of men were a body of hostile savages with- drew with all haste toward camp. On closer range the Indians were discovered to be Gros Ventres and Mandans, and were in fren- zied pursuit of the very party holed in the ravine. A surround was at once made of the ^rove in which the fugitives were last seen to enter, and in which the un terrified Sissetons stood defiantly at bay. "We have come to kill you, Bad Hand," said Poor W'olf, the proud leader of the Gros Ventres. *'You have been a very bad man; killed our peo- ple; stolen our horses. You do not deserve to live, therefore prepare to die." So saying a vol- ley was nred into the ravine. After a few minutes interval, the Sisseton brave spoke out from his covert, and thus replied to the Gros Ventre chief: 'You will kill us. You are hundreds in number, while I am alone. My com- rade is wounded and dying. But bear in mind my enemy, Bad Hand will not go alone to the Spirit land." With these words the talk ended, and all pre- pai'ed for the close of the tragedy. Some one was needed to draw the fire from the Sisseton when the rest would rush in to his hiding place before 122 Frontier AND Indian Life. he could reload — a very quick motion, beino^ necessary, when the dead mail carrier's captnred needle gun is remembered. A young Mandan was chosen for the ordeal — a fair faced boy whom the writer had often noticed around the Indian vil- lage at Fort Berthold. He was loaded doc\ni with the mysteries of Indian superstition; war chants. were sung and then he was rubbed over by the priest of the Mandans, after which the poor doomed boy started for the timber covert. A shot from the brush and the young Mandana was dead. Two hundred shots from without and Bad Hand is in his death throes. The Santees were then scalped and the head of the brave Bad Hand was cut off to be and carried in grand triumphal entry into their village. "Where is the third Sisseton Santee," exclaimed the Gros Ventre chief, after a thorough search had been made of the premises, ''we followed three thieves from our horse pastures!" Where indeed was he ? I will answer. The father died that he might save his son. It was three days after this event that the Indiaji boy had appeared at our hay camp above Fort Buford. LSGEND OF THE PAINTED WOODS. THERE arc two considerable bodies of timber along the connecting strips that follow the Upper Missouri's two thousand mile course, that while not pariicularly larger than other timber stretches along its devious line, yet were long marked by the red nati\es as points of hollowed interest in epoch ^> of their tribel history but are were fast disappearing with time's unending evo- lutions. Each of these forests were but the pro- duct of the "made" lands of the ever changing river's course narrowed down to very limited space between two ever attending high walls whose crusts are of adamantine hardness. Each of these disconnected groups of forests had been known as Painted Woods and a space of nearly two hundred miles separted them. The upper line of timbered groves so named stretched for a space of several miles along the Missouri, l^etween the mouths of the lower Little Muddy and the Yellowstone rivers, and it seemed to have Ijcen known only by that name within the last hundred years, or thereabout. The lower, or Painted Woods proper, is situated alang the Missouri river between the Square Pnittes, in the present county of Oliver, and Tur- tle creek, in the county of McLean, North Dakota. 124 Frontier AND Indian Life. The river bottom lands about the woods; the low bench lands of the ascending plains; the high uplands and the ragged, rough looking buttes, are grouped in fantastic shapes that make the whole landscape pleasing to an artistic eye. To the south, the great domes of the kaleidos- copic Square Buttes stand out like mighty fort- resses, bold and impregnable looking as a Giberab ter; gloomy and lonely as the Pyramids on Africa's sandy plain. To the west, the high ridged graceful beauty — the Antelope hills meet the vision; while to the north your eyes wander along the ciu'ved lines of the mighty Missouri to the great bend where sits in mirage halo, the showy little town of Washburn. To the east, high above the uneven prairies, and deep defiles — pinnacles and land points covered with stone — towers the frowning- buttes of th(^: Yanktoney, whose exterior garp change readily with the seasons, and like a huge time clock that it is, heed the passing hour if it does not record it. Along the northeastern border of the woods, half hidden among strips of forests of ash, willow and Cottonwood, lies the gourd shaped lake of die Painted Woods — the Broken Axe lake of ihc^ Sioux; the Medicine Lodge lake of the early day trapper, and a paradise for wild game. — Here among the thickets, and underneath ihc^ shades of spreading trees, the elk and the deer were seen in their wild natural beauty; here along the ever placid shores of the lake, the. industrious Lf.gknd of iiiK Paintki) Woods. 125 beaver once buildecl their houses in fancied security, but in an evil hour drove to destruction by the rovino- trapper, against whose arts the poor indus- trious and harmless dwellers of these shady re- treats, parried in points of sagacity — but parried in vain. Here, too, the brown bear, in his coat of cinna- mon hue, once luxuriated among the grape, the plum, and the toothsome bullberry, and found among the trunks of massive trees, a good pro- tecdon from hoary frosts and blizzardy blasts in his long winter nap. The wild buffalo of the plain, also found the cooling shades and limpid waters a resting wallow, where with him and his kind a dozing summer's day was lost in the count of passing time. In the rememberance of the oldest fur trader or trapper of the northern plains, the Painted Woods had been known as the forbidden or neutral trround between the Sioux on the one hand and Mandans. Gros Ventres and Aricarees on the odier. There had been exceptional short periods, when by main strength of numbers or boldness, one side then the other occupied the land. But to meet here was to fight here. The grusome legends about the shock of arms between these warlike savage men, when told by the venerable aboriginal keeper of the tribel records, would take the hypnotic mind of the listening guest through the fumes of an after-supper smoke, to the dreartiy hours of another day. 126 Frontier AND Indian Life. The last encounter but one, took place in April. 1869. Although the writer was not a witness of the affair, yet it fell to my lot to attend the last funeral rites of one of the slain. The particulars of the hostile meeting was as follows : A roving party of Mandans was suddenly beset by a war party of Tw^o Kettle Sioux. After a few inter- change of shots, one of the Sioux warriors step- ped out to the front of the line facing his enemies asked in a loud voice, who dare meet him in sin- gle combat? "I," replied a young Mandan' "will meet you ?" and so saying rushed forward and at a twinkling shot down his antagonist. As the Man- dan was in the act of drawing his knife and reach- ing out to grasp his enemy's scalp-lock, the dying Sioux dreiv his bow and sent its fatal shaft through the heart of his victorious foe. The surviving combatants, after an attempted renewal of strife, went their several ways and so ended the Indian "affair of honor" among the painted trees. One beautiful autumn day in 1872, after a weary morning's jog around the trap line. I lay down upon a grassy knoll near the shore of th(^ beautiful lake, ruminating in silent thought and listlessly watching for the time being, the myriads of wild fowl skimming, lightly over the lake — seeming alike fearless of the hunter and the hawk when I was startled by the hum of many voices, who on approaching proved to be a hunting pariy of Mandans. After the usual fussy salutations that the wild Indians are prone to indulge iit when LicFM) oi' I iiF, Painted Woods. 127 iheir numbers and humor justify hllariLy. The)' sat clown in the usual Indian fashion, in semi-circle form and lighted up the pipe and started it on its rounds of curling, fragrant smoke and brotherly good will. The leader of the party proved to be Scar Face, the young son of Red Buffalo Cow, head chief of the Mandans. This young fellow had always cul- tivated a sincere attachment for the whites, and I, on more than one occasion, relied on his good will to keep his meddlesome companions from pluck- ing my spare baggage on these lone fur hunting excursions. After the pipe had passed the rounds two or three times, and w^ith the tobacco pouch placed by the side of its carrier, I asked my young Mandan friend if he could tell me why the Red people called these neighboring timber points the Painted Woods ? "Yes, Trapper replied the young chief, "and if you listen I will tell you." — My ears are open," I replied in Indian fashion, and after a short pause he told the following story: "Many long years ago, when the Mandan vil- lages w^ere large and numerous, they occupied and were masters of all this section of country. The Sioux lived hundred of miles toward the land of th(! rising sun, but then as now, — wicked men, — came here to fight and kill our people and drive off our herds. We w^ere strong then, and often brought the horrors of war to their own lodges. Once when the hearts of all sank heavy with the bloody turmoil, and under restless insecurity, 128 Frontikr AND Indian Life. a pipe of peace was sent forth unto all tht! warring bands north, to meet in a great peace council at this lake, then but a mere arm of the ri\ er. The Mandans assembled from their neiehborini^ vil- lages. From the far north came the frost eared Assinaboines and their tandem trains of dogs; from the west came the black leg Anahaways, well dressed, haughty and silent. From the northwest came the plumed and painted Gros Ventres, and with them as guests rode the oaily dressed Crows, with suspicious hearts and prying eyes. And from the south earner up the Yank- toney with their cold stare and silent tongue, riding bands of stolen horses. Then last came the hid- den faced Sissetons who spoke only among them- selves. Our fathers as owners of the land were the in- tertainers, and received their guests with extended hands and good hearts. Buffaloes, elks, antelopes and deer were plentiful, and harvests of pump- kins, squashes, melons and corn were bountiful — the season of the tinted leaves had brought them clear balmy days, so that this grand comingling of these northern nations^ was but a continuous spread of gormandizing feasts — an assemblage of joy and brotherly good will. Sometime during this happy state of affairs, the jealous eyes of some of the young Mandan war- riors detected the assidious attentions of a gay young Yanktoney, to the daughter of a Mandan chief. She was winsome and beatitiful — the belle Lfcent) oi hie Painted Woods. 129 of all the villages, and many were the wooers who offered her their hearts and their hands only to be refused. And. now, that she seemed to encoiir- aoe die proffc^red and profuse blandishments of die Yanktoney — a stranger and an enemy, — one who had, perhaps, embued his hands in the blood of their murdered relatives, troubled them sorely. The'v remonstrated without effect — they plead without favor. Hie girl quietly and determinedly prepared to quit the lodg(! of her father and the village of her good people, to follow the uncertain fortunes of he who had entranced the confiding li'^art and bewildered her mind. When all devices had failed to separate the lov- ers, the soldiers of the Mandan town of which the maid's father was chief, issued an edict, and exe- cuted it. They assembled at the midnight hour and slew the Yanktoney in his love's embrace. The murder was done. The war-whoop rang out through the darkness and was echoed and re- echoed from lodge to lodge and band to band, un- til all the camps were stirred up in a mighty up- roar. The comrades of the murdered lover were told in loud acclaim by the criers of the camp what had happened. After their momentary daze was over the Yanktoneys strung their bows, drew their arrows from their quivers and gathered around the dead man's bier, where the mourning maiden kneeling in grief ; in abject woe, was cru- elly filled with arrows, and left her gasping in death. All then dispersed to wait for the light of day. 130 Frontier AND Indian Life. With the licrht of morning came war — the sack of camps and villages — the lonely murders — the burning of forests of timber and the wide ranges of dry grass upon the plains — waste and want and gameless deserts, deep snow; all followed in train. The bodies of the murdered lovers ere the place was forsaken, were in custom of the tribe placed together in the branches of a mighty elm, near where we now sit. The tree withered and died. Its bark pealed from its trunk and became glazed and whitened like the bones o( its exposed dead. For these many years the war has raged. We have no forgiveness to offer. We ask for none. As years followed in war and we were drove west of yonder big river, the Sioux especially in winter made their war party rendesvous of attack here. They painted up before onslought, and in mere bravado counted their "coup" with artistic flourish in character upon the whitened body of the lover's tree. We in turn retaliated in kind, and carried the hieroglyphic art to a bunch of great cotton- woods that stood near by; hence. Painted Woods. "This my friend," he concluded "is the story from our fathers." When the young chief concluded, the war- riers remounted and filed past the old Indian grave yard, the tattered biers in numbers then still stand- ing, and near where the famous old elm had once stood. They here paused for a moment then trail- ing out of sight through the high bushes, left me in silent communion over the l(;gend and the passing liy of the narrator and his band, like shadows of an imperfect dream. THE LETTER IN CIPHER. FORT Stevenson was established in June, 1867, being the last post built to complete the mil- itary chain between the Red River of the North and mouth of Yellowstone river. It was planned and constructed as a military post, there being no especial fears of hostile Indians, as the village of the Mandans, Gros Ventres and Aricarees, was but seventeen miles west of the post, and these were friendly to the Government, thereby making it uncomfortable for small bands of maraudino- Sioux, that usually infest the neighborhood of a military post built within the limits of their range. Thus it was that the post graveyard never contained the name of but one soldier's last rest- ing place marked on the head board "killed by Indians." a familliar enough inscription on the tombstones at the burying grounds of the neigh- boring posts. To men brought up in thickly populated com- munities of the east with the advaniaees of so much diversity in their e very-day life, a small post so isolated from the busy world as Fort Stevenson was, made living there very tedious and irksome to such, and consequently when a soldier was dis- charged from service, he usually took himself out of the country as soon thereafter as possible. — 132 Frontier AND Indian Life. The unlucky gambler or the whiskey drinker, often came out of the service on the wrong side of their final statements, and were therefore often compelled, by their necessitious condition, to either re-enlist or hunt work in some neighboring wood camp. Robert E , a good appearing, tidy and trusty soldier, was one of those who had unfort- unately contracted a love of whiskey somewhere In his eastern home, the taste for which. In his case, at least, frontier isolation could not eradicate. He came out of the service at Fort Stevenson, (une, 1869, with a good honest discharge, but a small purse, and sought employment In a wood- yard, but after blistering his hands over a small pile of wood for a few days, came back to the post and re-enlisted In his old company to do duty for Uncle Sam for another term of years. On the I ith day of June, iS'70, Carlos Reider, or Charley Reeder, as he was more commonly called, a German, and proprietor of a woodyard at the Painted Woods, was killed at his place by one of his choppers, known by name as Johnny Buck- tail. On the same day Bucktail started with some witnesses of the affair, to Fort Stevenson and sur- rendered himself as a prisoner to the military au- thorities at that place. Major Warnwright, the officer in command, Immediately started out Dr. Mathews, the post surgeon, and a detail of men, to find Reeder and bury him, and take possession of his effects. The soldiers gathered together all !•« The Letter in Cipher. 133 his portable property, including his teams and re- turned to the Fort, reported to the quartermaster and turned over the property to his care. Among- the dead man's household trumpery was a small batch of old books and some correspon- dence, and with these the following letter in ci- pher, drafted from memory of original, but be- lieved to be substantially corrct : FoRi Stevenson, Sep. 18, '69. Friend Charley— Paymaster here soon. Come. Bring big gun of poison. M. at o. p. Shave tails. Don't talk. Money plenty. When — Bob E Bucktail was tried for Reeder's murder before the U. S. court at Yankton the year following, and after a lengthy hearing was convicted of man- slaughter and sentenced to one year's imprison- ment in the Fort Madison, Iowa, penitentiary. The prisoner's side of the case had been ably defended by Bartlett Tripp, afterwards Dakota Territory's chief justice under the first Cleveland admistration, and under the second term, Amer- ica's ambassador to Austra. The prosecution in the case had been opened by the prosecuting at- torney Cowles, but who early turned it over to young Williams, a modest but aspiring bar- rister who here made his first public plea—an elo- quent and forcible one on behalf of justice to the memory of the friendless dead man. Attorney E. A. Williams later on served several terms in the terrttorial legislature; once speaker of the house, 134 Frontier AND Indian Life. and after the northern half came into the union as. the State of North Dakota, he was one of the most useful and talented members of the constitutional convention, and was soon thereafter appointed Surveyor General of the new State by President Harrison. Major Wainwright, of P'ort Stevenson beinc> summoned before the court at Yankton as a wit- ness on the Bucktail trial, the command of that post devolved upon Major Dickey, the second of- ficer in rank. The new- commander's first official act of any consequence was the arrest of E and his confinement in the guard house. The nervious officer thought he saw in this ciphered letter a key to a terrible conspiracy that had most providentially miscarried. In his interpretation of the missive, Reeder, wath E and possibly others were in a conspiracy to intercept the pay- master on his regular cash distribution visit to the post, and rob him of the plethoric rolls of green- backs that he usually carried around with him on such occasions. The word "poison" he took in its literal sense and saw a narrow escape of him- self and fellow officers and such of the garrison likely to be troublesome. That the conspiracy^ must have failed or thwarted from some unknown cause, or had been deferred to another time was made evident from the date of the letter, and the arrival and departure of the paymaster at the time specified without accident or anything of a suspi- cious nature. The Major, as officer of the da.y. The Letter in Cipher. 135 had grievous trouble some time before with Ree- der about supplying his soldiers with whiskey, thereby causing insubornadon and trouble, and on one occasion had him arrested and shipped out of the country. E , on his part did not not deny the author- ship of the letter and his explanadon was simple enough to all who cared to give it thought or who were cognizant of the facts, except the doughty Major in question. Reeder had been in the habit of trading with some of the bar keepers of the passing steamers for a cheap kind of whiskey for the soldiers, and E being one of his best cus« tomers acted as a kind of a middleman in the transacdon, for such of his companions who cared for the liquid and its attendant effects. "M. o. p." meant to meet at the old place, that being on the reservation limit at Snake creek. Newly en- listed soldiers were dubbed in post parlance * 'shave tails," in humorous take-off to the fact that all newly purchased mules by Government have their tails closely shaved. The two carriers who had brought Reeder the letter were new sol- dier recruits and he was so warned — as the sale of whiskey around a military post otherwise than what the regular sutler kept, was interdicted. — **Big gun" answered for a ten gallon keg, and ^'plenty money" to pay for it would come with the paymaster. Owing to the officers well known antipathy to R<*eder, the soldier's arrest was at first looked 136 Frontier ANiJ Indian Life. upon as a mere diversion in favor of the prisoner Biicktail's release at Yankton, but after events did not show it. The letter had been placed be- fore his honor Judge Brookings, the presiding functionary before whom the case was being tried, but was considered of no consequence and irrevi- lent to the case, merely showing up the murdered man in the light of a worthless character. Soon after these events the command at Fort Stevenson was relieved by two other companies and with the prisioner E still confined with- out a hearing, they all moved to quarters else- where. Fort Sully is a handsomely constructed and beautifully located post. It was named after a noble old hero of the frontier, who figured so prominently on these northern plains after the Sioux war of Minnesota, in 1S62. The fort was established July 25th, 1866, and intended to be occupied by four companies of soldiers. It is built upon a high bench overlooking the meander- ings of the great river Missouri. From the wavy meadows of the Okabosia on the south to the dis- tant breaks of the bluffs along the Cheyenne rivers on the north and west; the whole landscape is en- chanting and weird. The summer breezes are ever blowing — gentle airy zephyrs we may call them in fine summer weather — that are ever fan- ning the cheeks of the weak and strong — the just and the unjust — as indiscriminate in its distribu- The Letter in Cipher. 137 tion of favors as the^ great fiery orb of day himself. The month of August 1872, was passing quiet- ly on at this delightful summer post. Indian troubles had long since ceased, and peace and quiet reigned on every hand. On one of these still August days of that year, a tall, gaunt spec- tre — a mere skeleton of a man — came hobbling out of the south gates, leaning heavily upon his cane. Once outside where he could breathe the free air of heaven, he looked around about him in a vacant abstracted way, as though the bright sun, the clear sky and the hne landscape of the green fringed river had no charms for him — yet they seemed so new and so strange. His eyes were glassy and sunken and the pallor of hurry- ing death was branded on his brow. After staring around for a few moments in a helpless sort of a way, he sank heavily upon the ground in a dazed manner, and in utter languidness, as unable lon- ger to bear up with the burdens of attendant ills to his tired emaciated body. "Good morning Bob, how do you feel this morn- ing" said a pleasant faced soldier passing that way. "Oh, I am dying my dear boy, I am dying," feebly answered the the invalid, as he turned his eyes in pensive sadness to the ground. This dying man — this physical wreck, — was Robert E who but two years before was the finest looking specimen of the physical soldier 138 Frontier AND Indian Life. to be found in the garrison at Fort Stevenson. — Eighteen long and weary months chained with double irons to the oaken floor of the guard room; a punishment that the horrors of the soH- tary dungeon would be tame to, or the enforced torture of a vermin infested bastile, commonplace. Eighteen months, I say, lying chained down on the broad of his back, in stress and pain, in hoarse supplications for a trial or for death. Would a kind God in his mercy now grant the one, as the madman in a Major's uniform had so long refused the other. BULL BOATINQ THROUGH THE SIOUX COUNTRY. THERE are tinier that a little foolishness sway our minds into actions which at another time would appear flighty and ridiculous. After the passing of many years, I think the inauguration and execution of a bull boat journey in 187 i, was conceived at a period when the bump of foolish- ness within the phrenological chart developed into tumor-like proportions on the craniums of the pro- jectors of that voyage. Many of the frontiermens' dull hours or inactive spells, during the taunts and banters and accom- pany the breaks of listless conversation, often re- solve to do things, that they would gladly retract could they be permitted to do so, without subjecting themselves to the ridicule of their quizzical com- panions — resolved acts of some foolhardy scheme that have neither justification or excuse. When Yellowstone Kelly and Stub Wilson, at their woodyard near Porcupine creek, in the fall of 1 87 1, waked up one morning to find that twenty- five lodges of hostile Uncpapas were encamped uncomfortably near them, and finding their pres- ence undiscovered or unsuspected, discretion and good judgment should have aided these two men to keep quiet and shady for a day or two at least inasmuch as the band were mere travelers and not seeking trouble. 140 Frontier AND Indian Life. But these two frontiersman, restless dare-devils, had resolved to attack the camp at dark and did so. The Indians were panic-stricken at first but finding the attacking party were but two, flanked them, burned their hard earned cord wood and their cabin, and took what grub was in sight and the unlucky sortemen had a twenty mile walk for their breakfast. On the 14th of July of '71, Comrade Mercer and myself launched forth in a little tub-like bull boat at the Painted Woods landing for a six hun- dred and fifty miles journey down the Missouri to Yankton, the Territorial capital. Not a whit less foolish than the escapade of Kelly and Stub Wil- son was this six hundred and fifty mile journey in a bull boat through a country where the sight of one of these unlucky tubs freighted with man and gun was a signal from every Sioux village for a call to arms. But a week before our starting a war party of six Gros Ventres had floated down below the present site of the Standing Rock agen- cy and run on a Sioux hunter and killed him. Al- most every spring and summer for a hundred years the sleallhly manned war crews from the up- per villages, descended with the river currant and struck betimes the camp; the horse herd; the lone hunter; the early bather; the water carrier maid— or perchance the gamboling child. Was it any reason then, that when two days later as we floated grandly by the military para- pets of old hi.storic Fort Rice the stars and Bull Boatinc; Tiir()U(;ii the Sioux Country. 141 stripes waving gracefully with the breeze, when after a time fort and flag faded from view that we began to think that we would not always be thus becalmed — that winds would roar overhead and angry waves yet lash to fury our frail cra(t? We had provided ourselves with Indian leggins and red shirts and had every outside appearance of a pair of Aricaree braves, but as we drifted into the Sioux country we felt less pride and more un- easiness at our disguise. In a cove near the Standing Rock, we fished out one of the war boats abandoned by the last Gros Ventre war party. We transferred our luggage to the prize and thus were enabled to take more comfort. At the Grand river agency we took the shore shoot, and unexpectedly came upon a bevy of Uncpapa women and our appearace threw them into a panic and ran away screaming. It then came our turn to be panic stricken, for soon afterward about one hundred armed warriors came over the bank and several swam out and seized our boats pulled them ashore. We were severely repremand- ed, but allowed to proceed, on condition of taking three dancing maids as passengers down about five miles. They had been taking part in a dance that day, and were ardstically painted and their head dress of green leaves and flowers set them off handsomely. At the mouth of the Moreau river we tied up expecting to call on Belden the White Chief, who was supposed to be dividing his time betw^een 142 Frontier and Indian Life. writing his book and courting the Princess Gras^. Unfortunately, Belclen was not at home, and before we landed, beady black eyes had been peering at us from the bushes and our uncouth "Padonee" appearance, and our bull boats so terrified them that the half breed family ran screaming Indian murder up through the brush, not even stopping at their houses, but evidently made for the Black- foot camp somewhere along the Moreau. Concluding it was best to move on, we drifted down river to the Swan lake bars and taking a narrow shore shoot, were dismayed to see at a point ahead of us what appeared to be about twenty Indians calmly awaiting our approach. We were anticipating something of this kind, believing that the scared half breeds at Martin's had alarmed Grass's camp, and thinking we were the advance of an Aricaree war party, were preparing to round us up. Nor was the illusion speedly dispelled as we drifted lazily along the sluggish eurrant. One of them in our sight made the blanket sig- nal to others, by us unseen. But like the waking from an unpleasant dream some of the dreaded warriors took flight in the air. They were turkey buzzards; had been regaling on a carcass, and the mirage that often occur at this season on the river had magnified them many fold in size. In the neighborhood of Devils island we rested on a beech on the west side of the river where the year previous we had witnessed, if not an unre- corded tragedy at least an unraveled mystery. Bull Boating Tiir()U(;ii the Sioux Country. 143 A party of eleven of us was descending die river from Fort Buford under deputy marshal Galbrath as witnesses before the U. S. court at? Yankton on the Reeder murder trial. While at the Grand river agency, the marshal was advised by the military of the escape of a deserter from that garrison taking with him a large white dog. We were eating dinner at this bar when we es- pied across the river on the ridge of bluffs a man and dog answering the discription of the deserter. About one mile below, also on the opposite side of the river and near a small grove of trees were about twenty lodges of Indians. It seemed the In- dians espied the man and dog, as four of them mounted their ponies, and with glistening rifles drawn from their covers started out toward him but owing to his high position, hidden from view. Four other Indians quickly follow^ed in like man- ner. The first four ran up a coulee beyond and the last four up a coulee in front of him, but all as yet were hidden from his sight. The four behind arose first but he espied them and ran only to be confronted by the other four, when apparently dis- mayed he gave up and was hustled out of our sight in a coulee. The marshal refused to allow us to go to the man's assistance. Some of the Indians' ponies were in sight, unsaddled and grazing, but that was all. An hour later we passed on. The agency people reported these twenty lodges, "bad Indians." The deserter and dog were never again heai'd from. 144 Frontier and Indian Life. But to the bull boat journey. Within a few miles of the Cheyenne agency, on the east side of the river we noticed a large party of red people huddled together and evidently engaged in dan- cing. We were out in the river and thought to slip by unnoticed. But that was not our luck. — The dancing stopped and excited appearing In- dians gathered along shore and a fusilade of bullets whistled about our heads. We hoisted a white flag and was called ashore. Our poor boats were unmerciful thumped and kicked and the ominious words "seechee wah-doc-a," (bad to look at) rang in our ears in fullsome warning. Santee Jim of the party whom I had previously known, inierce- ded to save us from further molestation, but give warning that riding in the bull boats meant break- ers ahead for us. When we came near the Cheyenne agency we changed our paddling methods; fixed the boats in line, kept the middle of the river, and so avoided the lynx eyed Indians of that place. Fort Sully we passed in the night, and about midnight land- ed at a hay camp on the Okabosia about ten miles below the military post. A flickering light at the camp had been our beacon for several miles of rough and dangerous riding through a boasterous sea. We found all asleep, so quieily carried our boats up near the hre; turned them bottom side up and went to sleep. At daylight we were awakened by stamping feet and found ourselves and belongings subjects for Bull Boating Through the Sioux Country. 145 inspection, and the inquirers were holding con- versation in an undertone. Presently a lank meat eating Texan drawled out to us, at the same time eyeing suspiciously the war vessles of the fighting Aricarees: 'AVhat is these things — a balloon?" We arose from under our skin canopies and proceded to explain to the unsophisticated young- man and his stareing companions that the vessels were of the water not of the air. They could not be made to believe that navigation was possible in a skin covered basket until we went spinning around in the circling currant after launching. Our next stopping point was Tompkin's ranch at Medicine creek. The proprietor was affable and obliging and we do not think he deserved his hard luck a year later, viz: the confiscation and burn- ing of his property, and can but speak a good word for this generous Georgian who gave up his life trying to save another from harm. From Tompkin's place we hired a rig to take us overland to F'ort Thompson, abandoning the boats; partly owing to the tediousness of this kind of navigation, and partly owing to a false rumor reaching the Two Kettle band at Fort Thompson, that a war party of their old enemies the Aricarees were swooping down upon them in bull boats. We camped near that fort the night follow- ing; and owing to some one informing the Indians that we were the advance of the war party; having cached our boats near Tompkin's ranch, a big well 146 Frontier AND 1^DIAN Life. armed party came out to interview ns. A half breed questioned adroitly in English and some of the warriors catechised us in Sioux. Finally a lit- tle old black looking Indian asked us some ques- tions in Aricaree and I answered in the same lan- guage. That settled it. Twenty warriors armed with knife pointed war clubs stamped about us while we vainly tried to slumber. Nor was se- curity ours until two days later when we crossed Choteau creek on the south line of the Yanktons. One month later after the events just recorded, being the last day of the month of August — as passengers on the boat Peninah, we steamed up to the landing at Grand river agency about night- fall. Charley and John McCarthy, young Sam Galpin and one other came aboard as was the cus- tom at wood landings. They had just returned as pall bearers from the new graveyard where all that was mortal of the young and talented George P. Belden, had been laid to, rest. Three days be- fore the "White Chief" left the agency astride his mule bearing silks and fineries for his accept- ed bride, the Princess Grass, who resided with her father along the banks of the timber-lined Moreau. He was followed from the agency by a jealous red rival, who watched his opportunity and murdered Belden while in the act of drinking from a spring on the lonely Moreau trail, twelve miles from the rigency. These pall bearers have now, also passed away — and two of their graves, will remain to us unknown until Gabriel blows his last and final call. CHARLEY REYNOLDS. LONSSOMS CHARLEY. ONE day i