 Section 7. Sitting Bull. From Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains. By Charles A. Eastman, O. Heesa. Sitting Bull. It is not easy to characterize Sitting Bull of all Sioux chiefs most generally known to the American people. There are few to whom his name is not familiar and still fewer who have learned to connect it with anything more than the conventional notion of a bloodthirsty savage. The man was an enigma at best. He was not impulsive nor was he phlegmatic. He was most serious when he seemed to be jokos. He was gifted with the power of sarcasm and few have used it more artfully than he. His father was one of the best known members of the Aunt Papa band of Sioux. The manner of this man's death was characteristic. One day when the Aunt Papas were attacked by a large war party of crows he fell upon the enemy's war leader with his knife. In a hand-to-hand combat of this sort we count the victor as entitled to a war bonnet of trailing plumes. It means certain death to one or both. In this case both men dealt a mortal stroke and jumping buffalo, the father of Sitting Bull, fell from his saddle and died in a few minutes. The other died later from the effects of the wound. Sitting Bull's boyhood must have been a happy one. It was long after the day of the dog travaux and his father owned many ponies of variegated colors. It was said of him in a joking way that his legs were bowed like the ribs of the ponies that he rode constantly from childhood. He had also a common nickname that was much to the point. It was hunkashni, which means slow, referring to his inability to run fast or more probably to the fact that he seldom appeared on foot. In their boyish games he was wont to take the part of the old man, but this does not mean that he was not active and brave. It is told that after a buffalo hunt the boys were enjoying a mimic hunt with the calves that had been left behind. A large calf turned viciously on Sitting Bull, whose pony had thrown him. But the alert youth got hold of both ears and struggled until the calf was pushed back into a buffalo wallow in a sitting posture. The boys shouted, he has subdued the buffalo calf, he made it sit down. And from this incident was derived his familiar name of Sitting Bull. It is a mistake to suppose that Sitting Bull, or any other Indian warrior, was of a murderous disposition. It is true that savage warfare had grown more and more harsh and cruel since the coming of white traitors among them, bringing guns, knives, and whiskey. Yet it was still regarded largely as a sort of game undertaken in order to develop the manly qualities of their youth. It was the degree of risk which brought honor rather than the number slaying, and a brave must mourn thirty days with blackened face and loosened hair for the enemy whose life he had taken. While the spoils of war were allowed this did not extend to territorial aggrandizement, nor was there any wish to overthrow another nation and enslave its people. It was a point of honor in the old days to treat a captive with kindness. The common impression that the Indian is naturally cruel and revengeful is entirely opposed to his philosophy and training. The revengeful tendency of the Indian was aroused by the white man. It is not the natural Indian who is mean and tricky. Not Massasoit, but King Philip. Not Attica Lackala, but Weatherford. Not Wabashaw, but Little Crow. Not Jumping Buffalo, but Sitting Bull. These men lifted their hands against the white man while their fathers held theirs out to him with gifts. Remember that there were councils which gave their decisions in accordance with the highest ideal of human justice before there were any cities on this continent, before there were bridges to span the Mississippi, before this network of railroads was dreamed of. There were primitive communities upon the very spot where Chicago or New York City now stands, where men were as children, innocent of all the crimes now committed there daily and nightly. True morality is more easily maintained in connection with the simple life. You must accept the truth that you demoralize any race whom you have subjugated. From this point of view we shall consider Sitting Bull's career. We say he is an untutored man. That is true so far as learning of a literary type is concerned. But he was not an untutored man when you view him from the standpoint of his nation. To be sure he did not learn his lessons from books. This is second hand information at best. All that he learned he verified for himself and put into daily practice. In personal appearance he was rather commonplace and made no immediate impression. But as he talked he seemed to take hold of his hearers more and more. He was bullheaded, quick to grasp a situation and not readily induced to change his mind. He was not suspicious until he was forced to be so. All his meaner traits were inevitably developed by the events of his later career. Sitting Bull's history has been written many times by newspaper men and army officers. But I find no account of him which is entirely correct. I met him personally in 1884. And since his death I have gone thoroughly into the details of his life with his relatives and contemporaries. It has often been said that he was a physical coward and not a warrior. Judge of this for yourselves from the deed which first gave him fame in his own tribe when he was about 28 years old. In an attack upon a band of Crow Indians one of the enemy took his stand after the rest had fled in a deep ditch from which it seemed impossible to dislodge him. The situation had already cost the lives of several warriors. But they could not let him go to repeat such a boast over the zoo. Follow me, said Sitting Bull, and charged. He raced his horse to the brim of the ditch and struck at the enemy with his coo staff, thus compelling him to expose himself to the fire of the others while shooting his assailant. But the Crow merely poked his empty gun into his face and dodged back under cover. Then Sitting Bull stopped. He saw that no one had followed him and he also perceived that the enemy had no more ammunition left. He rode deliberately up to the barrier and threw his loaded gun over it. Then he went back to his party and told them what he thought of them. Now, said he, I have armed him, for I will not see a brave man killed unarmed. I will strike him again with my coo staff to count the first feather. Who will count the second? Again he led the charge, and this time they all followed him. Sitting Bull was severely wounded by his own gun in the hands of the enemy, who was killed by those that came after him. This is a record that, so far as I know, was never made by any other warrior. The second incident that made him well known was his taking of a boy captive in battle with the Asinoboins. He saved this boy's life and adopted him as his brother. Hohe, as he was called, was devoted to Sitting Bull and helped much in later years to spread his fame. Sitting Bull was a born diplomat, a ready speaker, and in middle life he ceased to go upon the warpath, to become the counselor of his people. From this time on this man represented him in all important battles, and upon every brave deed done was want to exclaim aloud, I, Sitting Bull's boy, do this in his name. He had a nephew, now living, who resembles him strongly, and who also represented him personally upon the field, and so far as there is any remnant left of his immediate band, they look upon this man, one Bull, as their chief. When Sitting Bull was a boy, there was no thought of trouble with the whites. He was acquainted with many of the early traitors, Pico, Chateau, Primo, Larpenture, and others, and like them, as did most of his people in those days. All the early records show this friendly attitude of the Sioux, and the great fur companies, for a century and a half, depended upon them for the bulk of their trade. It was not until the middle of the last century that they woke up, all of a sudden, to the danger threatening their very existence. Yet at that time many of the old chiefs had been already depraved by the whiskey and other vices of the whites, and in the vicinity of the forts and trading-posts at Sioux City, St. Paul, and Cheyenne, there was general demoralization. The drunkards and hangers-on were ready to sell almost anything they had for the favor of the trader. The better and stronger element held aloof. They would not have anything of the white man except his hatchet, gun, and knife. They utterly refused to cede their lands, and as for the rest they were willing to let him alone as long as he did not interfere with their life and customs, which was not long. It was not, however, the Aunt Papa Band of Sioux, Sitting Bulls Band, which first took up arms against the whites, and this was not because they had come less in contact with them, for they dwelt on the Missouri River, the natural highway of trade. As early as 1854 the Ogallalas and Bruls had trouble with the soldiers near Fort Laramie, and again in 1857, Inc. Paduta massacred several families of settlers at Spirit Lake, Iowa. Finally in 1869 the Minnesota Sioux, goaded by many wrongs, arose and murdered many of the settlers, afterward fleeing into the country of the Aunt Papas, and appealing to them for help, urging that all Indians should make common cause against the invader. This brought Sitting Bull face to face with a question, which was not yet fully matured in his own mind, but having satisfied himself of the justice of their cause he joined forces with the renegades during the summer of 1863, and from this time on he was an acknowledged leader. In 1865 and 1866 he met the Canadian half-breed, Louis Ryle, instigator of two rebellions, who had come across the line for safety, and in fact at this time he harbored a number of outlaws and fugitives from justice. His conversations with these, especially with the French mixed-bloods, who inflamed his prejudices against the Americans, all had their influence in making the Rylee Sue a determined enemy to the white man. While among his own people he was always affable and genial. He became boastful and domineering in his dealings with the hated race. He once remarked that if we wish to make any impression upon the pale face it is necessary to put on his mask. Sitting Bull joined in the attack on Fortville Carney and in the subsequent hostilities, but he accepted in good faith the Treaty of 1868 and soon after it was signed he visited Washington with Red Cloud and Spotted Tail, on which occasion the three distinguished chiefs attracted much attention and were entertained at dinner by President Grant and other notables. He considered that the life of the white man, as he saw it, was no life for his people, but hoped by close adherence to the terms of this treaty to preserve the Bighorn and Black Hills country for a permanent hunting ground. When gold was discovered and the irrepressible gold seekers made their historic dash across the plains into this forbidden paradise, then his faith in the white man's honor was gone forever, and he took his final and most persistent stand in defense of his nation and home. His bitter and at the same time well-grounded and philosophical dislike of the conquering race is well expressed in a speech made before the purely Indian Council before referred to upon the Powder River. I will give it in brief as it has been several times repeated to me by men who were present. Behold, my friends, the spring has come. The earth has gladly received the embraces of the sun, and we shall soon see the results of their love. Every seed is awakened and all animal life. It is through this mysterious power that we too have our being, and we therefore yield to our neighbors, even to our animal neighbors, the same right as ourselves to inhabit this vast land. Yet hear me, friends, we have now to deal with another people, small and feeble when our forefathers first met with them, but now great and overbearing. Strangely enough they have a mind to till the soil, and the love of possessions is a disease in them. These people have made many rules that the rich may break, but the poor may not. They have a religion in which the poor worship, but the rich will not. They even take tithes of the poor and weak to support the rich and those who rule. They claim this mother of ours, the earth, for their own use, and fence their neighbors away from her, and deface her with their refuse. They compel her to produce out of season, and when sterile she is made to take medicine in order to produce again. All this is sacrilege. This nation is like a spring freshet. It overruns its banks and destroys all who are in its path. We cannot dwell side by side. Only seven years ago we made a treaty by which we were assured that the Buffalo country should be left to us forever. Now they threaten to take that from us also. My brothers, shall we submit, or shall we say to them, first kill me, before you can take possession of my fatherland? As Sitting Bull spoke, so he felt, and he had the courage to stand by his words. Crazy Horse led his forces in the field. As for him, he applied his energies to state affairs, and by his strong and aggressive personality contributed much to holding the hostels together. It may be said without fear of contradiction that Sitting Bull never killed any women or children. He was a fair fighter, and while not prominent in battle after his young manhood, he was the brains of the Sue resistance. He has been called a medicine man and a dreamer. Strictly speaking he was neither of these, and the white historians are prone to confuse the two. A medicine man is a doctor or healer. A dreamer is an active war prophet who leads his war party according to his dream or prophecy. What is called by whites making medicine in wartime is again a wrong conception. Every warrior carries a bag of sacred or lucky charms, supposed to protect the wearer alone, but it has nothing to do with the success or safety of the party as a whole. No one can make any medicine to affect the result of a battle, although it has been said that Sitting Bull did this at the battle of the Little Bighorn. When Custer and Reno attacked the camp at both ends, the chief was caught napping. The village was in danger of surprise, and the women and children must be placed in safety. Like other men of his age, Sitting Bull got his family together for flight, and then joined the warriors on the Reno side of the attack. Thus he was not in the famous charge against Custer. Nevertheless his voice was heard exhorting the warriors throughout the day. During the autumn of 1876, after the fall of Custer, Sitting Bull was hunted all through the Yellowstone region by the military. The following characteristic letter, doubtless written at his dictation by a half-breed interpreter, was sent to Colonel Otis immediately after a daring attack upon his wagon-train. I want to know what you are doing traveling on this road. You scare all the buffalo away. I want to hunt in this place. I want you to turn back from here. If you don't, I will fight you again. I want you to leave what you have got here and turn back from here. I am your friend, Sitting Bull. I need all the rations you have got and some powder. Wish you would write me as soon as you can. Otis, however, kept on and joined Colonel Miles who followed Sitting Bull with about four hundred soldiers. He overtook him at last on Cedar Creek near the Yellowstone, and the two met midway between the lines for a parley. The Army report says, Sitting Bull wanted peace in his own way. The truth was that he wanted nothing more than he had been guaranteed to them by the Treaty of 1868. The exclusive possession of their last hunting ground. This, the government was not now prepared to grant, as it had been decided to place all the Indians under military control upon the various reservations. Since it was impossible to reconcile to such conflicting demands, the hostels were driven about from pillar to post for several more years, and finally took refuge across the line in Canada, where Sitting Bull had placed his last hope of justice and freedom for his race. Here he was joined from time to time by parties of malcontents from the reservation, driven largely by starvation and ill-treatment to seek another home. Here, too, they were followed by United States commissioners, headed by General Terry, who endeavored to persuade him to return, promising abundance of food and fair treatment, despite the fact that the exiles were well aware of the miserable condition of the good Indians upon the reservations. He first refused to meet them at all, and only did so when advised to that effect by major wash of the Canadian Mounted Police. This was his characteristic remark. If you have one honest man in Washington, send him here, and I will talk to him. Sitting Bull was not moved by fair words. But when he found that if they had liberty on that side, they had little else, that the Canadian government would give them protection but no food, that the buffalo had been all but exterminated, and his starving people were already beginning to desert him. He was compelled at last in 1881 to report at Fort Buford, North Dakota, with his band of hungry, homeless, and discouraged refugees. It was, after all, to hunger and not to the strong arm of the military that he surrendered in the end. In spite of the invitation that had been extended to him in the name of the great father at Washington, he was immediately thrown into a military prison, and afterward handed over to Colonel Cody, Buffalo Bill, as an advertisement for his Wild West show. After traveling out for several years with the famous showman, thus increasing his knowledge of the weaknesses as well as the strength of the white man, the deposed and humiliated chief settled down quietly with his people upon the Standing Rock Agency in North Dakota, where this immediate band occupied the Grand River District and set to raise in cattle and horses. They made good progress, much better in fact than that of the coffee-coolers or Indians, received the missionaries kindly, and were soon a church-going people. When the commissions of 1888 and 1889 came to treat with the Sioux for a further session of land and a reduction of their reservations, nearly all were opposed to consent on any terms. Nevertheless, by hook or by crook enough signatures were finally obtained to carry the measure through, although it is said that many were victims of women and the so-called squalemen who had no rights in the land. At the same time rations were cut down and there was general hardship and dissatisfaction. Crazy Horse was long since dead, Spotted Tail had fallen at the hands of one of his own tribe, Red Cloud had become a feeble old man and the disaffected among the Sioux began once more to look to Sitting Bull for leadership. At this crisis a strange thing happened. A half-breed Indian in Nevada promulgated the news that the Messiah had appeared to him upon a peak in the Rockies, dressed in rabbit skins, and bringing a message to the Red Race. The message was to the effect that since his first coming had been in vain, since the white people had doubted and reviled him, had nailed him to the cross and trampled upon his doctrines he had come again in pity to save the Indian. He declared that he would cause the earth to shake and to overthrow the cities of the whites and destroy them that the buffalo would return and the lamb belong to the Red Race forever. These events were to come to pass within two years and meanwhile they were to prepare for his coming by the ceremonies and dances which he commanded. This curious story spread like wildfire and met with eager acceptance among the suffering and discontented people. The teachings of Christian missionaries have prepared them to believe in a Messiah and the prescribed ceremonial was much more in accord with their traditions than the conventional worship of the churches. Chiefs of many tribes sent delegations to the Indian prophet. Short bull, kicking bear, and others went from among the Sioux, and on their return all inaugurated the dances at once. There was an attempt at first to keep the matter secret, but it soon became generally known and seriously disconcerted the Indian agents and others who were quick to suspect a hostile conspiracy under all this religious enthusiasm. As a matter of act there was no thought of an uprising. The dancing was innocent enough and pathetic enough their despairing hope in a pitiful savior who should overwhelm their oppressors and bring back their golden age. When the Indians refused to give up the ghost dance at the bidding of the authorities, the growing suspicion and alarm focused on sitting bull, who in spirit had never been any too submissive and it was determined to order his arrest. At the special request of Major McLaughlin, agent at Standing Rock, forty of his Indian police were sent out to Sitting Bull's home on Grand River to secure his person, followed at some little distance by a body of United States troops for reinforcement in case of trouble. These police are enlisted from among the tribesmen at each agency and have proved uniformly brave and faithful. They entered the cabin at daybreak, aroused the chief from a sound slumber, helped him to dress, and led him resting from the house. But when he came out in the grey dawn of that December morning in 1890 to find his cabin surrounded by armed men and himself led away to he knew not what fate, he cried out loudly, they have taken me, what say you to it? Men poured out of the neighboring houses and in a few minutes the police were themselves surrounded with an excited and rapidly increasing throng. They harangued the crowd in vain, Sitting Bull's blood was up and he again appealed to his men. His adopted brother, the Asiniboine captive whose life he had saved so many years before, was the first to fire. His shot killed Lieutenant Bullhead, who held Sitting Bull by the arm. Then there was a short but sharp conflict in which Sitting Bull and six of his defenders and six of the Indian police were slain, with many more wounded. The chief's young son, Crowfoot, and his devoted brother died with him. When all was over and the terrified people had fled precipitately across the river the soldiers appeared upon the brow of the Long Hill and fired their Hotchkiss guns into the deserted camp. Thus ended the life of a natural strategist of no mean courage and ability. The great chief was buried without honors outside the cemetery at the post and for some years the grave was marked by a mere board at its head. Recently some women have built a cairn of rocks there in token of respect and remembrance. End of Section 7 Section 8 Reign in the face from Indian heroes and great chieftains. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Indian heroes and great chieftains by Charles A. Eastman, Ohiasa. Reign in the face. The noted Sue Warrior, Reign in the face, whose name once carried terror to every part of the frontier died at his home on the Standing Rock Reserve in North Dakota on September 14th, 1905. About two months before his death I went to see him for the last time where he lay upon the bed of sickness from which he never rose again and drew from him his life history. It had been my experience that you cannot induce an Indian to tell a story or even his own name by asking him directly. Friend, I said, even if a man is on a hot trail he stops for a smoke. In the good old days before the charge there was a smoke. At home by the fireside when the old men were asked to tell their brave deeds again the pipe was passed. So come, let us smoke now to the memory of the old days. He took of my tobacco and filled his long pipe and we smoked. Then I told an old mirthful story to get him in the humor of relating his own history. The old man lay upon an iron bedstead covered by a red blanket in a corner of the little log cabin. He was all alone that day, only an old dog lay silent and watchful at his master's feet. Finally he looked up and said with a pleasant smile. True, friend, it is the old custom to retrace one's trail before leaving it forever. I know that I am at the door of the spirit home. I was born near the forks of the Cheyenne River about 70 years ago. My father was not a chief, my grandfather was not a chief, but a good hunter and a feast-maker. On their side I had some noted ancestors, but they left me no chieftainship. I had to work for my reputation. When I was a boy, I loved to fight, he continued. In all our boyish games I had the name of being hard to handle and I took much pride in the fact. I was about ten years old when we encountered a band of Cheyennes. They were on friendly terms with us, but we boys always indulged in complications, and this time I got in an honest fight with a Cheyenne boy older than I. I got the best of the boy, but he hit me hard in the face several times, and my face was all spattered with blood and streaked where their paint had been washed away. The Sioux boys whooped and yelled. His enemy is down and his face is spattered as with rain. Rain in the face. His name shall be rain in the face. When I was a young man we went on a war-path against the grove on. We stole some of their horses, but were overtaken and had to abandon the horses and fight for our lives. I had wished my face to represent the sun when partly covered with darkness, so I painted it half black, half red. We fought all day in the rain and my face was partly washed and streaked with red and black. So again I was a young man. We considered it an honorable name. I had been on many war-paths, but was not especially successful until about the time the Sioux began to fight with the white man. One of the most daring attacks that we ever made was on Fort Totten, North Dakota, in the summer of 1866. Hohe, the Asinoboin captive of Sitting Bull, was the leader in this raid. Wapepe, the fearless bear word hanged at Yankton, was the bravest man among us. He dared Hohe to make the charge. Hohe accepted the challenge and in turn dared the other to ride with him through the agency and right under the walls of the Fort, which was well garrisoned and strong. Wapepe and I in those days caught each other brother-friend. It was a life-and-death fowl. What one does, the other must do, and that meant that I must be in the forefront of the charge, and if he is killed, I must fight until I die also. I prepared for death. I painted as usual like an eclipse of the sun, half black and half red. His eyes gleamed and his face lighted up remarkably as he talked, pushing his black hair back from his forehead with a nervous gesture. Now the signal for the charge was given. I started even with Wapepe, but his horse was faster than mine so he left me a little behind as we neared the fort. This was bad for me, for by that time the soldiers had somewhat recovered from the surprise and were aiming better. Their big gun talked very loud, but my Wapepe was leading on, leaning forward on his fleet pony like a flying squirrel on a smooth log. He held his raw hide shield on the right side, a little to the front, our war-whoop was like the coyote singing in the evening when they smelled blood. The soldiers' guns talked fast but few were hurt. Their big gun was like a toothless old dog who only makes himself hotter the more noise he makes, he remarked with some humor. How much harm we did I do not know, but we made things lively for a time and the white men acted as people do when a swarm of angry bees came to camp. We made a successful retreat but some of the reservation Indians followed us shelling until Hohe told them that he did not wish to fight with the captives of the white men for there would be no honour in that. There was blood running down my leg and I found that both my horse and I were slightly wounded. Some two years later we attacked a fort west of the Black Hills, Fort Phil Carney, Wyoming. We killed one hundred soldiers. The military reports say eighty men under the command of Captain Fetterman, not one left alive to tell the tale. Nearly every band of the Sioux Nation was represented in that fight. Red cloud, spotted tail, crazy horse, sitting bull, big foot, and all our great chiefs were there. Of course such men as I were then comparatively unknown. However there were many noted young warriors among them, sword, the younger, young men afraid, American horse afterward chief, crow king and others. This was the plan decided upon after many councils. The main war party lay in ambush and a few of the bravest young men were appointed to attack the wood choppers who were cutting logs to complete the building of the fort. We were told not to kill these men but to chase them into the fort slowly, defying the white men. And if the soldiers should follow we were to lead them into the ambush. They took our bait exactly as we had hoped. It was a matter of a very few minutes for every soldier lay dead in a shorter time than it takes to annihilate a small herd of buffalo. This attack was hastened because most of the Sioux on the Missouri River and eastward had begun to talk of Siouxing for peace. Even this did not stop the peace movement. The very next year a treaty was signed at Fort Rice Dakota Territory by nearly all the Sioux chiefs in which it was agreed on the part of the great father in Washington that all the country north of the Republican River in Nebraska including the Black Hills and the Bighorn Mountains was to be always Sioux country and no white man should intrude upon it without our permission. Even with this agreement sitting bull and crazy horse were not satisfied and they would not sign. Up to this time I had fought in some important battles but had achieved no great deed. I was ambitious to make a name for myself. I joined war parties against the crows, mandins, grove on and ponies and gained some little distinction. It was when the white men found the yellow medal in our country and came in great numbers driving the team that we took up arms against them for the last time. I must say here that the chiefs who were loudest for war were among the first to submit and accept reservation life. Spotted Tail was a great warrior yet he was one of the first to yield because he was promised by the chief soldiers that they would make him chief of all the Sioux. Ugg, he would have stayed with sitting bull to the last had it not been for his ambition. About this time we young warriors began to watch the trails of the white men into the black hills and when we saw a wagon coming we would hide at the crossing and kill them all without much trouble. We did this to discourage the whites from coming into our country without our permission. It was the duty of our great father at Washington by the agreement of 1868 to keep his white children away. There was a troublesome time after this treaty which no one seemed to respect either white or Indian but the whites broke it first. I was like many other young men much on the warpath but with little honor. I had not yet become noted for any great deed. Finally Wapepe and I waylaid and killed a white soldier on his way from the fort to his home in the east. There were a few Indians who were liars and never on the warpath playing good Indian with the Indian agents and the war chiefs at the forts. Some of this faithless set betrayed me and told more than I ever did. I was seized and taken to the fort near Bismarck, North Dakota Fort Abraham Lincoln by a brother, Tom Custer of the long-haired war chief and imprisoned there. The same lying Indians who were selling their services as scouts to the white men told me that they used to be shot to death or else hanged upon a tree. I answered that I was not afraid to die. However, there was an old soldier who used to bring my food and stand guard over me. He was a white man, it is true, but he had an Indian heart. He came to me one day and unfastened the iron chain and ball with which they had locked my leg, sitting by signs and what little zoo he could muster. Go, friend, take the chain to you. I shall shoot, but the voice of the gun will lie. When he had made me understand, you may guess that I ran my best. I was almost over the bank when he fired his piece at me several times, but I had already gained cover and was safe. I have never told this before and would not, lest it should do him an injury, but he was an old man then and I am sure he must be dead long since. The old soldier taught me that some of the white people have hearts, he added quite seriously. I went back to Standing Rock in the night and I had to hide for several days in the woods where food was brought to me by my relatives. The Indian police were ordered to retake me and they pretended to hunt for me, but really they did not, for if they had found me I would have died with one or two of them and they knew it. In a few days I departed with others and we rejoined the hostile camp on the Powder River and made some trouble for the men who were building the great iron track north of us, Northern Pacific. In the spring the hostile Sioux got together again upon the Tongue River. It was one of the greatest camps of the Sioux that I ever saw. There were some Northern Cheyennes with us under Tumun and a few of Santee Sioux renegades from Canada under Inc. Paduta who had killed people in Iowa long before. We had decided to fight the white soldiers until no warrior should be left. At this point Rain in the face took up his tobacco pouch and began again to fill his pipe. Of course the young warriors were delighted with the prospect of a great fight. Our scouts had discovered piles of oats for horses and other supplies near the Missouri River. They had been brought by the white man's army. Presently they reported a great army about a day's travel to the south with Shoshone and Crow Scouts. There was excitement among the people and a great council was held. Many spoke. I was asked the condition of those Indians who had gone upon the reservation and I told them truly that they were nothing more than prisoners. It was decided to go out and meet three stars, General Crook, at a safe distance from our camp. We met him on the little rosebud. I believe that if we had waited and allowed him to make the attack he would have fared no better than Custer. He was too strongly fortified where he was and I think too that he was saved partly by his Indian allies, for the Scouts discovered us first and fought us first, thus giving him time to make his preparations. I think he was more wise than brave. After we had left that neighborhood he might have pushed on and connected with the long-haired chief. That would have saved Custer and perhaps won the day. When we crossed from Tongue River to the Little Bighorn on account of the scarcity of game we did not anticipate any more trouble. Our runners had discovered that Crook had retraced his trail to Goose Creek and we did not suppose that the white men would care to follow us farther into the rough country. Suddenly the long-haired chief appeared with his men. It was a surprise. What part of the camp were you in when the soldiers attacked the lower end? I asked. I had been invited to a feast at one of the young men's lodge, a sort of club. There was a certain warrior who was making preparations to go against the Crows and I had decided to go also, he said. While I was eating my meat we heard the war cry. We rushed out and saw a warrior riding at top speed from the lower camp, giving the warning as he came. Then we heard the reports of the soldiers' guns, which sounded differently from the guns fired by our people in battle. I ran to my TP and seized my gun, a bow and a quiver full of arrows. I already had my stone war club, for you know we usually carry those by way of ornament. Just as I was about to set out to meet a body of soldiers appeared nearly opposite us, at the end of a long line of cliffs across the river. All of us who were mounted and ready immediately started down the stream toward the fort. There were Ogallalas, Menicon Jews, Cheyennes, and some Aunt Papas, and those around me seemed to be nearly all very young men. Behold there is among us a young woman, I shouted. Let no young man hide behind her garment. I knew that would make those young men brave. The woman was Tasha nominee, or moving robe, whose brother had just been killed in the fight with three stars. Holding her brother's war staff over her head and leaning forward upon her charger, she looked as pretty as a bird. Always when there is a woman in the charge it causes the warriors to vie with one another in displaying their valor, he added. For most warriors had almost surrounded the white men, and more were continually crossing the stream. The soldiers had dismounted and were firing into the camp from the top of the cliff. My friend was sitting bull in this fight, I inquired. I did not see him there, but I learned afterward that he was among those who met Reno, and that was three or four of the white man's miles from Custer's position. Later he joined the attack upon but was not among the foremost. When the troops were surrounded on two sides, with the river on the third, the order came to charge. There were many very young men, some of whom had only a war staff or a stone war club in hand, who plunged into the column, knocking the men over and stampeding their horses. The soldiers had mounted and started back, but when the onset came they dismounted again and separated into several divisions, facing different ways. They fired as fast as they could load their guns, while we used chiefly arrows and war clubs. There seemed to be two distinct movements among the Indians. One body moved continually in a circle, while the other rode directly into and through the troops. Presently some of the soldiers remounted and fled along the ridge toward Reno's position, but they were followed by our birds of blackbirds after a hawk. A larger body remained together at the upper end of a little ravine and fought bravely until they were cut to pieces. I had always thought that white men were cowards, but I had a great respect for them after this day. It is generally said that a young man with nothing but a war staff in his hand broke through the column and knocked down the leader very early in the fight. He stood up in full view, swinging his big knife, sword over his head, and talking loud. Someone unknown afterwards shot the chief and he was probably killed also, for if not he would have told of the deed and called others to witness it. So it is that no one knows who killed the long-haired chief, General Custer. After the first rush was over, coups were counted as usual on the bodies of the enemy. You know, four coups or blows can be counted on the body of an enemy and whoever counts the first one, touches it for the first time, is entitled to the first feather. There was an Indian here called Appearing Elk, who died a short time ago. He was slightly wounded in the charge. He had some of the weapons of the long-haired chief and the Indians used to say jokingly after we came upon the reservation that Elk must have killed the chief because he had his sword. However, the scramble for plunder did not begin until all were dead. I do not think he killed Custer, and if he had, the time to claim the honor was immediately after the fight. Many lies have been told of me. Some say that I killed the chief and others that I cut out the heart of his brother, Tom Custer, because he had caused me to be imprisoned. Why, in that fight the excitement was so great that we scarcely recognized our nearest friends. Everything was done like lightning. After the battle, we young men were chasing horses all over the prairie while the old men and women plundered the bodies, and if any mutilating was done, it was by the old men. I have lived peaceably ever since we came upon the reservation. No one can say that rain in the face has broken the rules of the great father. I fought for my people and my country. When we were conquered, I remained silent as a warrior should. Rain in the face was killed when he put down his weapons before the great father. His spirit was gone then. Only his poor body lived on. But now it is almost ready to lie down for the last time. Ho hechitu. It is well. Section 9. To strike. From Indian heroes and great chieftains. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Indian heroes and great chieftains by Charles A. Eastman. Oh yes. To strike. It is a pity that so many interesting names of well-known Indians have been mistranslated so that their meaning becomes very vague if not wholly lost. In some cases an opposite meaning is conveyed. For instance, there is the name young man afraid of his horses. It does not mean that the owner of the name is afraid of his own horse far from it. To shunk a koki poppy signifies the young men of the enemy fear his horses. Whenever that man attacks the enemy knows there will be a determined charge. The name to shunky wiko horse is a poetic simile. This leader was likened to an untrained or untouched horse. Wild, ignorant of domestic uses, splendid in action and unconscious of danger. The name of to strike is a deed name. In a battle with the utes this man knocked two enemies from the back of a warhorse. The true rendering of the name nankapa would be he knocked off two. He was acquainted with to strike and spent many pleasant hours with him both at Washington, D.C. and in his home on the Rosebud Reservation. What I have written is not all taken from his own mouth because he was modest in talking about himself, but I had him vouch for the truth of the stories. He said that he was born near the Republican River about 1832. His earliest recollection was of an attack by the little piney. The first white men he ever met were traitors who visited his people when he was very young. The incident was still vividly with him because he said, they made my father crazy, drunk. This made a deep impression upon him, he told me, so that from that day he was always afraid of the white man's mysterious water. To strike was not a large man, but he was very supple in motion, as agile as an antelope. His face was mobile and intelligent. Although he had the usual somber visage of an Indian, his expression brightened up wonderfully when he talked. In some ways wily and shrewd in intellect he was not deceitful nor mean. He had a high sense of duty and honor. Patriotism was his ideal and goal of life. As a young man he was modest although both his father and grandfather were well-known chiefs. I could find few noteworthy incidents in his early life, save that he was an expert rider of wild horses. At one time I was pressing him to give me some interesting incident of his boyhood. He replied to the effect that there was plenty of excitement, but not much in it. There was a delegation of suit chiefs visiting Washington and we were spending an evening together in their hotel. Hollow Hornbear spoke up and said, Why don't you tell him how you and a buffalo cow together held your poor father up and froze him almost to death. Everybody laughed and another man remarked, I think he had better tell the medicine man, meaning myself, how he lost the power of speech when he first tried to court a girl. Too strike, although he was then close to 80 years of age, was visibly embarrassed by their chaff. Anyway, I stuck to the trail, I kept on till I got what I wanted, he muttered, and then came the story. The old chief, his father, was very fond of the buffalo hunt and being accomplished in horsemanship and a fine shot, although not very powerfully built. Young too strike was already following hard in his footsteps. Like every proud father, his was giving him every incentive to collect his skill, and one day challenged his 16-year-old son to the feet of one arrow to kill at the very next chase. It was midwinter, a large herd of buffalo were reported by the game scout. The hunters gathered at daybreak prepared for the charge. The old chief had his tried charger equipped with a soft, pillow-like Indian saddle and a lariat. His old sinew-backed hickory bow was examined and strung and a fine straight arrow with a still head carefully selected for the test. He adjusted a keen butcher knife over his leather belt, which held a warm buffalo robe securely about his body. He wore neither shirt nor coat, although a piercing wind was blowing from the northwest. The youthful too strike had his favorite bow and his swift pony, which was perhaps dearer to him than his closest boy comrade. Now the hunters crouched upon their horse's backs like an army in line of battle, while behind them waited the boys and old men with packed ponies to carry the meat. Huck-a-hey shouted the leader as a warning. Yeki-ya-wo, go! And in an instant all the ponies leaped forward against the cutting wind as if it were the start in a horse race. Every rider leaned forward, tightly wrapped in his robe, watching the herd for an opening in the massive buffalo, a chance to cut out some of the fattest cows. This was the object off the race. The chief had a fair start. His horse was well trained and needed no urging nor guidance. Without the slightest pull on the lariat, he dashed into the thickest of the herd. The youth's pony had been prancing and rearing impatiently. He started a little behind, yet being swift as any. His rider had one clear glimpse of his father ahead of him. Then the snow arose in blinding clouds on the trail of the bison. The whoops of the hunters, the lowing of the cows and the menacing glances of the bulls as they plunged along, or now and then stood at bay, were enough to unnerve a boy less well trained. He was unable to select his victim. He had been carried deeply into the midst of the herd and found helpless to make the one sure shot. Therefore he held his one arrow in his mouth and merely strove to separate them so as to get his chance. At last the herd parted and he cut out two fat cows and was maneuvering for position when a rider appeared out of the snow cloud on the other side. This aroused him to make haste lest his rival secure both cows. He saw his chance and in a twinkling his arrow sped clear through one of the animals so that she fell headlong. In this instant he observed that the man who had joined him was his own father, who had met with the same difficulties as himself. When the young man had shot his only arrow, the old chief, with a whoop, went after the cow that was left. But as he gained her broadside his horse stepped into a badger hole and fell, throwing him headlong. The maddened buffalo as sometimes happens in such cases turned upon the pony and gored him to death. His rider lay motionless while two strike rushed forward to draw her attention, but she merely tossed her head at him while persistently standing guard over the dead horse and the all but frozen Indian. Alas for the game of one arrow to kill. The boy must think fast for his father's robe had slipped off and he was playing it, lying almost naked in the bitter air upon the trampled snow. His bluff would not serve so he flew back to pull out his solitary arrow from the body of the dead cow. Quickly willing again he sent it into her side and she fell. The one arrow to kill had become one arrow to kill two buffalo. At the council lodge that evening two strike was the hero. The following story is equally characteristic of him and in explanation it should be said that in the good old days among the Sioux, a young man is not supposed to associate with girls until he is ready to take a wife. It was a rule with our young men, especially the honorable and well-born to gain some reputation in the hunt and in the war. The more difficult the feats achieved the better, before even speaking to a young woman. Many a life was risked an effort to establish a reputation along these lines. Courtship was no secret but rather a social event often celebrated by the proud parents with feasts and presents to the poor. And this etiquette was sometimes felt by a shy or sensitive youth as an insurmountable obstacle to the fulfillment of his desires. Two strike was the son and grandson of a chief but he could not claim any credit for his poor bears. He had not only to guard their good name but achieve one for himself. This he had set out to do and he did well. He was now of marriageable age with the war record and admitted to the council yet he did not seem to trouble himself at all about a wife. His was strictly a bachelor career. Meanwhile, as is apt to be the case his parents had thought much about a possible daughter-in-law but even collected ponies, fine robes and other acceptable goods to be given away in honor of the event whenever it should take place. Now and then they would drop a sly hint but with no perceptible effect. They did not and could not know of the inward struggle that wracked his mind at this period of his life. The shy and modest young man was dying for a wife yet could not bear even to think of a woman. The fearless hunter of buffaloes mountain lions and grizzlies the youth who had won his eagle feathers in a battle with the youths could not bring himself to take this tremendous step. At last his father appealed to him directly. My son, he declared, it is your duty to take into yourself a wife in order that the honors won by your ancestors and by yourself may be handed down there are several eligible young women in our band whose parents have intimated a wish to have you for their son-in-law. Two strike made no reply but he was greatly disturbed. He had no wish to have his old folks select his bride for if the truth were told his choice was already made. He had simply lacked the courage to go according. The next morning after making an unusually careful toilet he took his best course and rode to a point overlooking the path by which the girls went for water. Here the young men were wont to take their stand and, if fortunate, intercept the girl of their heart for a brief but fateful interview. Two strike had determined to speak straight to the point and as soon as he saw the pretty maid he came forward boldly and placed himself in her way. A long moment passed. She glanced up at him shyly without encouragement. His teeth fairly chatterd with fright and he could not say a word. She looked again, noted his strange looks and believed him suddenly taken ill. He appeared to be suffering. At last he feebly made signs for her to go on and leave him alone. The maiden was sympathetic but as she did not know what else to do she obeyed his request. The poor youth was so ashamed that he afterward admitted his first thought was to take his own life. He believed he had disgraced himself forever in the eyes of the only girl he had ever loved. However he determined to conquer his weakness and win her, which he did. The story came out many years after and was told with much enjoyment by the old men. Two strike was better known by his own people than by the whites for he was individually a hero in battle rather than a leader. He achieved his honorable name in a skirmish with the youths in Colorado. The Sioux regarded these people as their bravest enemies and the outcome of the fight was for some time uncertain. First the Sioux were forced to retreat and then their opponents and at the latter point the horse of a certain youth was shot under him. A friend came to his rescue and took him up behind him. Our hero overtook them in flight, raised his war club and knocked both men off with one below. He was a very old man when he died only two or three years ago on the Rosebud Reservation. End of Section 9 Section 10 American Horse from Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains by Charles A. Eastman Ohiesa American Horse One of the wittiest and shrewdest of the Sioux chiefs was American Horse who succeeded to the name and position of an uncle killed in the battle of Slim Buttes in 1876. The younger American horse was born a little before the encroachments of the whites upon the Sioux country became serious and their methods aggressive and his early manhood brought him into the most trying and critical period of our history. He had been tutored by his uncle since his own father was killed in battle while he was still very young. The American Horse Band was closely attached to a trading post and its members and consequence were inclined to be friendly with the whites a policy closely adhered to by their leader. When he was born his old grandfather said, put him out in the sun let him ask his great-grandfather the son for the warm blood of a warrior. And he had warm blood. He was a genial man, liking notoriety and excitement. He always seized an opportunity to leap into the center of an arena. In his early life he was a clownish sort of boy among the boys an expert mimic and impersonator. This talent made him popular and in his way a leader. He was a real actor and early showed marketability as a speaker. American Horse was about ten years old when he was attacked by three crow warriors while driving a herd of ponies to water. Here he displayed native cunning and initiative. It seemed he had scarcely a chance to escape for the enemy was near. He yelled frantically at the ponies to start them toward home while he dropped off into a thicket of willows and hid there. Part of the herd was caught inside of the camp and there was a counter-chase but the crows got away with the ponies. Of course his mother was frantic believing her boy had been killed or captured but after the excitement was over he appeared in camp unhurt. When questioned about his escape he remarked, I knew they would not take the time to hunt for small game when there was so much bigger close by. When he was quite a big boy and in a buffalo hunt and on the way back with the rest of the hunters his mule became unmanageable. American Horse had insisted on riding him in addition to a heavy load of meat and skins and the animal evidently resented this for he suddenly began to run and kick scattering fresh meat along the road to the marimatop the crowd. But the boy turned actor and made it appear that it was at his wish the mule had given this diverting performance. He clung to the back of his plunging and braing mount like a circus rider singing a brave heart song and finally brought up amid the laughter and cheers of his companions. Far from admitting defeat he boasted of his horsemanship and declared that his brother the donkey would put any enemy to flight and that they should be called upon to lead a charge. It was several years later that he went to sleep early one night and slept soundly having been scouting for two nights previous. It happened that there was a raid by the crows and when he awoke in the midst of the yelling and confusion he sprang up and attempted to join in the fighting. Everybody knew his voice and all the din so when he fired his gun and announced a coup as was the custom others rushed to the spot to find that he had shot a hobbled pony belonging to their own camp. The laugh was on him and he never recovered from his sin at this mistake. In fact, although he was undoubtedly fearless and tried hard to distinguish himself in warfare he did not succeed. It is told of him that he once went with a war-party of young men to the Wind River country against the Shoshoneys. At last they discovered a large camp but there were only a dozen or so of the Sioux. Therefore they hid themselves and watched for their opportunity to attack an isolated party of hunters. While waiting thus they ran short of food. One day a small party of Shoshoneys was seen near at hand and in the midst of the excitement and preparations for the attack young American horse caught sight of a fat black-tailed deer close by. Unable to resist the temptation he pulled an arrow from his quiver and sent it through the deer's heart then with several of his half-starved companions sprang upon the yet quivering body of the animal to cut out the liver which was sometimes eaten raw. One of the men was knocked down it is said by the last kick of the dying buck but having swallowed a few mouthfuls the warriors rushed upon and routed their enemies. It is still told of American horse how he killed game and feasted between the ambush and the attack. At another time he was drying his sacred war bonnet and other gear over a small fire. Particles were held in great veneration by the Indians and handled accordingly. Suddenly the fire blazed up and our hero so far forgot himself as to begin energetically beating out the flames with the war bonnet, breaking off one of the sacred buffalo horns in the act. One could almost fill a book with his mishaps and exploits. I will give one of them in his own words as well as I can remember them. We were as promising a party of warriors as our tribe ever sent against any of its ancestral enemies. It was mid-summer and after going two days journey from home we began to send two scouts ahead daily while the main body kept a half day behind. The scouts set out every evening and traveled all night. One night the great war pipe was held out to me and to young man afraid of his horses. At daybreak having met no one we hit our horses and climbed to the top of the nearest butte to take an observation. It was a very hot day. We lay flat on our blankets facing the west where the cliff fell off in a sheer descent and with our backs toward the more gradual slope dotted with scrub pines and cedars. We stuck some tall grass on our heads and proceeded to study the landscape spread before us for any sign of man. The sweeping valleys were dotted with herds, both large and small, of buffalo and elk and now and then we caught a glimpse of a coyote slinking into the gulches returning from night hunting to sleep. While intently watching some moving body at a distance we could not yet tell whether of men or animals. I heard a faint noise behind me and slowly turned my head. Behold, a grizzly bear sneaking up on all fours and almost ready to spring. Run! I yelled into the ear of my companion and we both leaped to our feet in a second. Separate, separate, he shouted and as we did so the bear chose me for his meat. I ran downhill as fast as I could but he was gaining. Dodge around a tree screamed young man afraid. I took a deep breath and made a last spurt desperately circling the first tree I came to. As the ground was steep just there I turned a summer saw one way and the bear the other. I picked myself up in time to climb the tree and was fairly out of reach when he gathered himself together and came at me more furiously than ever. Holding in one paw the shreds of my breech cloth for in the fall he had just scratched my back and cut my belt in two and carried off my only garment for a trophy. My friend was well up another tree and laughing heartily at my predicament and when the bear saw that he could not get at either of us he reluctantly departed. After I had politely addressed him and promised to make an offering to his spirit on my safe return I don't think I ever had a narrower escape he concluded. During the treblest times from 1865 to 1877 American horse advocated yielding to the government at any cost being no doubt convinced of the uselessness of resistance. He was not a recognized leader until 1876 when he took the name the place of his uncle. Up to this time he bore the nickname of Manishni, cannot walk or played out. When the greater part of the Ogallalas to which band he belonged came into the reservation he at once allied himself with the peace element at the Red Cloud Agency near Fort Robinson, Nebraska and took no small part in keeping the young braves quiet since the older and better known chiefs with the exception of Spotted Tail were believed to be hostile at heart the military made much use of him. Many of his young men enlisted as scouts by his advice and even he himself entered the service. In the early part of the year 1876 there was a rumor that certain bands were in danger of breaking away. Their leader was one Sue Jim so nicknamed by the soldiers. American horse went to him as peacemaker but was told he was a woman and no brave. He returned to his own camp and told his men that Sue Jim meant mischief and in order to prevent another calamity to the tribe he must be chastised. He again approached the war like Jim with several warriors at his back. The recalcitrant came out gun in hand but the wily chief was too quick for him. He shot and wounded the rebel whereupon one of his men came forward and killed him. This quelled the people for the time being and up to the killing of Crazy Horse. In the crisis precipitated by this event American horse was again influential and energetic in the cause of the government. From this time on he became an active participant in the affairs of the Teton Sue. He was noted for his eloquence which was nearly always conciliatory. Yet he could say very sharp things of the duplicity of the Whites. He had much ease of manner and was a master of repartee. I recall his saying that if you have got to wear golden slippers to enter the white man's heaven no Indian will ever get there as the Whites have got the black kills and with them all the gold. It was during the last struggle of his people at the time of the messiah craze in 1890 to 1891 that he demonstrated as never before the real greatness of the man. While many of his friends were carried away by the new thought he held aloof from it and cautioned his band to do the same. When it developed into an extensive upheaval among the nations he took his positive stand against it. Presently all Indians who did not dance the ghost dance were ordered to come into camp at Pine Ridge Agency. American horse was the first to bring in his people. I was there at the time daily. When little was arrested it had been agreed among the disaffected to have him resist which meant that he would be roughly handled. This was to be their excuse to attack the Indian police which would probably lead to a general massacre or outbreak. I know that this desperate move was opposed from the beginning by American horse and it was believed that his life was threatened. On the day of the big issue when thousands of Indians were gathered at the agency this man little who had been in hiding walked boldly among them. Of course the police would arrest him at sight and he was led toward the guard house. He struggled with them but was overpowered. A crowd of warriors rushed to his rescue and there was confusion and a general shout of hurry up with them, kill them all. I saw American horse walk out of the agent's office and calmly face the excited mob. What are you going to do? He asked. Stop men, stop and think before you act. Will you murder your children? Your women? Yes, destroy your nation today. He stood before them like a statue and the men who held the two policemen helpless paused for an instant. He went on. You are brave today because you outnumber the white men but what will you do tomorrow? There are railroads on all sides of you. The soldiers will pour in from every direction by thousands and surround you. You have little food or ammunition. It will be the end of your people. Stop I say, stop now. Jack Redclout, son of the old chief rushed up to him and thrust a revolver almost in his face. It is you and men like you he shouted who have reduced our race to slavery and starvation. American horse did not flinch but deliberately re-entered the office followed by Jack still flourishing the pistol. But his timely appearance and eloquence had saved the day. Others of the police force had time to reach the spot and with a large crowd of friendly Indians had taken command of the situation. When I went into the office I found him alone but apparently quite calm. Where are the agent and the clerks? I asked. They fled by the back door he replied smiling. I think they are in the cellar. These fools outside had almost caught us asleep but I think it is over now. American horse was one of the earliest advocates of education for the Indian and his son Samuel and nephew Robert were among the first students at Carlisle. I think one or two of his daughters were the handsomest Indian girls of full blood that I ever saw. His record as a counsellor of his people and his policy in the new situation that confronted them was manly and consistent. End of section 10 Section 11 Dullknife from Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains This Lubrivox recording is in the public domain. Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains by Charles A. Eastman Ohiesa Dullknife Life of Dullknife, the Cheyenne is a true hero tale. Simple, childlike yet manful and devoid of selfish aims or love of gain, he is a pattern for heroes of any race. Dullknife was a chief of the old school. Among all the Indians of the plains nothing counts safe proven worth. A man's caliber is measured by his courage, unselfishness and intelligence. Many writers confuse history with fiction but in Indian history their women and old men and even children witness the main events and not being absorbed in daily papers and magazines these events are rehearsed over and over with few variations. Though orally preserved their accounts are therefore accurate but they have seldom been willing to give reliable information to strangers especially when asked and paid for. Racial prejudice naturally enters into the account of a man's life by enemy writers while one is likely to favor his own race. I am conscious that many readers may think that I have idealized the Indian therefore I will confess now that we have too many weak and unprincipled men among us. When I speak of the Indian hero I do not forget the mongrel in spirit, thoughts to the ideals of his people. Our trustfulness has been our weakness and when the vices of civilization were added to our own we fell heavily. It is said that Dolknife as a boy was resourceful and self-reliant. He was only nine years old when his family was separated from the rest of the tribe while on a buffalo hunt. His father was away and his mother busy and he was playing with his little sister on the banks of a stream when a large herd of buffalo swept down upon them on a stampede for water. His mother climbed a tree but the little boy led his sister into an old beaver-house whose entrance was above water and here they remained in shelter until the buffalo passed and they were found by their distracted parents. Dolknife was quite a youth when his tribe was caught one winter in a region devoid of game and threatened with starvation. This situation was made worse by heavy storms but he secured help and led a relief party 150 miles carrying bells of dried buffalo meat on pack horses. Another exploit that made him dear to his people occurred in battle when his brother-in-law was severely wounded and left lying where no one on either side dared to approach him. As soon as Dolknife heard of it he got on a fresh horse and made so daring a charge that others joined him. Thus under cover of their fire he continued his brother-in-law and in so doing was wounded twice. The suit knew him as a man of high type perhaps not so brilliant as Roman nose or two moon but surpassing both in honesty and simplicity as well as in his war record. Two moon in fact was never a leader of his people and became distinguished only in wars with the whites during the period of revolt. A story is told of an ancestor of the same name that illustrates well the spirit of the age. It was the custom in those days for the older men to walk ahead of the moving caravan and decide upon all haughts and camping places. One day the counselors came to a grove of wild cherries covered with ripe fruit and they stopped at once. Suddenly a grisly charged from the thicket. The men yelped and hooded but the bear was not to be bluffed. He knocked down the first warrior who dared to face him and dragged his victim into the bushes. The whole caravan was in the wildest excitement. Several of the swiftest footed warriors charged the bear to bring him out into the open while the women and dogs made all the noise they could. The bear accepted the challenge and as he did so the man whom they had supposed dead came running from the opposite end of the thicket. The Indians were delighted and especially so when in the midst of their cheers the man stopped running for his life and began to sing a brave heart song as he approached the grove with his butcher knife in his hand. He would dare his enemy again. The grisly met him with a tremendous rush and they went down together. Instantly the bear began to utter cries of distress and at the same time the knife flashed and he rolled over dead. The warrior was too quick for the animal. He first bit his sensitive nose and attacked his attention and then used the knife to stab him to the heart. He fought many battles with knives thereafter and claimed that the spirit of the bear gave him success. On one occasion however the enemy had a strong buffalo hide shield which the Cheyenne bear fighter could not pierce through and he was wounded. Nevertheless he managed to dispatch his foe. It was from this incident that he received the name of Dullknife down to his descendant. As is well known the northern Cheyennes uncompromisingly supported the Sioux in their desperate defense of the black hills and big horn country. Why not? It was their buffalo region, their subsistence. It was what our wheat fields are to a civilized nation. About the year 1875 a propaganda was started for confining all the Indians upon reservations where they would be practically returned or imprisoned regardless of their possessions and rights. The men who were the strongest advocates of the scheme generally wanted the Indians' property the one main cause back of all Indian wars. From the war like Apaches to the peaceful Nez Perce all the tribes of the plains were hunted from place to place. Then the government resorted to peace negotiations but always with an army at hand to coerce. They were armed and helpless. They were to be taken under military guard to the Indian territory. A few resisted and declared they would fight to the death rather than go. Among these were the Sioux but nearly all the smaller tribes were deported against their wishes. Of course those Indians who came from a mountainous and cold country suffered severely. The moist heat and malaria decimated the exiles. Chief Standing Bear of the Pankas appealed to the people of the United States and finally succeeded in having their bands or the remnant of them return to their own part of the country. Dullknife was not successful in his plea and the story of his flight is one of poignant interest. He was regarded by the authorities as a dangerous man and with his depleted band was taken to the Indian territory without his consent in 1876. When he realized that his people were dying like sheep he was deeply moved. He called them together. Every man and woman declared that they would rather die in their own country than stay there longer and they resolved to flee to their northern homes. Here again was displayed the genius of these people. From the Indian territory to Dakota is no short dash for freedom. They knew what they were facing. They played through a settled country and they would be closely pursued by the army. No sooner had they started than the telegraph wire sang one song. The Panther of the Cheyennes is at large not a child or a woman in Kansas or Nebraska is safe. Yet they evaded all the pursuing and intercepting troops and reached their native soil. The strain was terrible. The hardship great and Dullknife like Joseph was remarkable for his self-restraint in sparing those who came within his power on the way. But fate was against him for there were those looking for blood money who betrayed him when he thought he was among friends. His people were tired out and famished when they were surrounded and taken to Fort Robinson. There the men were put in prison and their wives guarded in camp. They were allowed to visit their men on certain days. Many of them had lost everything. There were but a few who had even one child left. They were heartbroken. These despairing women appealed to their husbands to die fighting. Their liberty was gone. Their homes broken up. And only slavery and gradual extinction in sight. At last Dullknife listened. He said, I have lived my life. I am ready. The others agreed. They were to say no. If we are to do the deeds of men it rests with you women to bring us our weapons. As they had been allowed to carry moccasins and other things to the men so they can try to take in some guns and knives under this disguise. The plan was to kill the sentinels and run to the nearest natural trench there to make their last stand. The women and children were to join them. This arrangement was carried out. Not every brave had a gun but all had agreed to die together. They fought till their small store of ammunition was exhausted then exposed their broad chests for a target. And the mothers even held up their little ones to be shot. Thus died the fighting Cheyennes and their dauntless leader. End of Section 11 Section 12 Roman Knows From Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains The Librivox recording is in the public domain. Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains by Charles A. Eastman Ohiasa Roman Knows This Cheyenne war chief was a contemporary of Dullknife. He was not so strong a character as the other and was inclined to be pompous and boastful. But with all this he was a true type of Native American in spirit and bravery. While Dullknife was noted in Warfare Among Indians, Roman Knows made his record against the Whites in defense of territory embracing the Republican and Iricary rivers. He was killed on the Ladder River in 1868 in the celebrated battle with General Forsythe. Save Chief Gaul and Wachaki in the prime of their manhood this chief had no peer and bodily perfection and masterful personality. No Greek or Roman gymnast was ever a finer model of physical beauty and power. He thrilled his men to frenzied action when he came upon the field. It was said of him that he sacrificed more youths by his personal influence in battle than any other leader, being very reckless himself in grandstand charges. He was killed needlessly in this manner. Roman Knows always wrote an uncomely fine, spirited horse and with his war bonnet and other paraphernalia gave a wonderful exhibition. The Indians used to say that the soldiers must gaze at him rather than aim at him as they so seldom hit him even when running the gauntlet before a firing line. He did a remarkable thing once when on a one arrow to kill Buffalo Hunt with his brother-in-law his companion had selected his animal and drew so powerfully on his sinew bowstring that it broke. Roman Knows had killed his own cow and was whipping up close to the other and the misfortune occurred. Both horses were going at full speed and the arrow jerked up in the air. Roman Knows caught it and shot the cow for him. Another curious story told of him is to the effect that he had an intimate Sioux friend who was courting a Cheyenne girl but without success. As the wooing of both Sioux and Cheyennes was pretty much all affected in the night time Roman Knows told his friend to let him do the courting for him. He arranged with the young woman to elope the next night and to spin the honeymoon among his Sioux friends. He then told his friend what to do. The Sioux followed instructions and carried off the Cheyenne maid and not until morning did she discover her mistake. It is said she never admitted it and that the two lived happily together to a good old age so perhaps there was no mistake after all. Perhaps no other chief attacked more immigrants going west on the Oregon Trail between 1860 and 1868. He once made an attack on a large party of Mormons and in this instance the Mormons had time to form a corral with their wagons and shelter their women, children and horses. The men stood outside and met the Indians with well aim to volleys but they circled the wagons with whirlwind speed and whenever a white man fell it was the signal for Roman Knows to charge and count the coup. The head of one of the dead men was off and although he had heavy hair and beard the top of his head was bald from the forehead up. As custom required such a deed to be announced on the spot the chief yelled at the top of his voice. Your Roman Knows has counted the first coup on the longest-faced white man who was ever killed. When the northern Cheyennes under this daring leader attacked a body of scouting troops under the brilliant officer General Forsythe Roman Knows thought that he had a comparatively easy task. The first onset failed and the command entrenched itself on a little island. The wily chief thought he could stampede them and urged on his braves with a declaration that the first to reach the island should be entitled to wear a trailing warp on it. Nevertheless he was disappointed and his men received such a warm reception that none succeeded in reaching it. In order to inspire them to desperate deeds he had led them in person and with him that meant victory or death. According to the army accounts it was a thrilling moment and might well have proved disastrous to the Forsythe command whose leader was wounded and helpless. The danger was acute until Roman Knows fell and even then his lieutenants were bent upon crossing at any cost but some of the older chiefs prevailed upon them to withdraw. Thus the brilliant war chief of the Cheyennes came to his death. If he had lived until 1876 Sitting Bull would have had another bold ally. End of section 12 Section 13 Chief Joseph from Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains by Charles A. Eastman Ohiasa Chief Joseph The Nez Perce tribe of Indians like other tribes too large to be united under one chief was composed of several bands each distinct in sovereignty. It was a loose confederacy. Joseph and his people occupied the Imnaha and Granron Valley in Oregon which was considered perhaps the finest land in that part of the country. When the last treaty was entered into by some of the bands of the Nez Perce Joseph's band was at La Puea, Idaho and had nothing to do with the agreement. The elder chief in dying had counseled his son then not more than 22 or 23 years of age never to part with their home assuring him that he had signed no papers. These peaceful non-treaty Indians did not even know what land had been seated until the agent read them the government order to leave. Of course they refused. They left on the same. When the agent failed to move them he and the would-be settlers called upon the army to force them to be good namely without a murmur to leave their pleasant inheritance in the hands of a crowd of greedy grafters. General O. O. Howard the Christian soldier was sent to do the work. He had a long counsel with Joseph and his leading men telling them that they must obey the order or be driven out by force. They may be sure that he presented this hard alternative reluctantly. Joseph was a mere youth without experience in war or public affairs. He had been well brought up in obedience to parental wisdom and with his brother Ollicott had attended Missionary Spalding's school where they had listened to the story of Christ and his religion of brotherhood. He now replied in his simple way that neither he nor his father had ever made any treaty disposing of their country that no other band of the Nez Perce was authorized to speak for them and it would seem a mighty injustice and unkindness to dispossess a friendly band. General Howard told them in effect that they had no rights no voice in the matter they had only to obey. Although some of the lesser chiefs counseled revolt then and there Joseph maintained his self-control seeking to calm his people and still groping for a peaceful settlement of their difficulties. He finally asked for thirty days' time in which to find and dispose of their stock and this was granted. Joseph steadfastly held his immediate followers to their promise but the land-grabbers were impatient and did everything in their power to bring about an immediate crisis so as to hasten the eviction of the Indians. Depredations were committed and finally the Indians or some of them retaliated which was just what their enemies had been looking for. There might be a score of white men murdered among themselves on the frontier and no outsider would ever hear about it but if one were injured by an Indian down with the bloodthirsty savages was the cry. Joseph told me himself that during all of those thirty days a tremendous pressure was brought upon him by his own people to resist the government order. The worst of it was, said he, that everything they said was true. Besides, he paused for a moment. It seemed very soon for me to forget my father's dying words do not give up our home. Knowing as I do just what this would mean to an Indian I felt for him deeply. Among the opposition leaders were two hul-hul salt, white bird and looking-glass all of them strong men and respected by the Indians while on the other side were men built up by emissaries of the government for their own purpose and advertised as great friendly chiefs. As a rule such men are unworthy and this is so well known to the Indians that it makes them distrustful of the government's sincerity at the start. Moreover, while Indians unqualifiedly say what they mean the whites have a hundred ways of saying what they do not mean. The center of the storm was this simple young man who so far as I can learn had never been upon the war-path and he stood firm for peace and obedience. As for his father's sacred dying charge he told himself that he would not sign any papers. He would not go of his free will but from compulsion and this was his excuse. However, the whites were unduly impatient to clear the coveted valley and by their insolence they aggravated to the danger-point an already strange situation. The murder of an Indian was the climax and this happened in the absence of the young chief. He returned to find the leaders determined to die fighting. The nature of the country was in their favor and at last they could give the army a chase but how long they could hold out they did not know. Even Joseph's younger brother Ollicott was won over. There was nothing for him to do but fight and then there began the peaceful Joseph's career as a general of unsurpassed strategy in conducting one of the most masterly retreats in history. This is not my judgment but the unbiased opinion of men whose knowledge and experience fit them to render it. Bear in mind that these people were not scalp-hunters like the Sioux, Cheyennes and Utes but peaceful hunters and fishermen. The first council of war was a strange business to Joseph. He had only this to say to his people I have tried to save you from suffering and sorrow. Resistance means all of that. We are few. They are many. You can see all we have at a glance. They have food and ammunition in abundance. We must suffer great hardship and loss. After this speech he quietly began his plans for the defense. The main plan of campaign was to engineer a successful retreat into Montana and therefore form a junction with the hostile Sioux and Cheyennes under Sitting Bull. There was a relay scouting system. One set of scouts leaving the main body at evening and the second a little before daybreak passing the first set on some commanding hilltop. There were also decoy scouts set to trap Indian scouts of the army. I noticed that General Howard charges crow scouts with being unfaithful. Their greatest difficulty was in meeting an unencumbered army while carrying their women, children and old men with supplies and such household effects as were absolutely necessary. Joseph formed an auxiliary corps that was to effect a retreat at each engagement upon a definite plan and in definite order while the unencumbered women were made into an ambulance corps to take care of the wounded. It was decided that the main rear guard should meet General Howard's command in Whitebird Canyon and every detail was planned in advance, yet left flexible according to Indian custom, giving each leader freedom to act according to circumstances. Perhaps no better ambush was ever planned than the one Chief Joseph set for the shrewd and experienced General Howard. He expected to be hotly pursued but he calculated that the pursuing force would consist of not more than two hundred and fifty soldiers. He prepared fought's trails to mislead them into thinking that he was about to cross or had crossed the Salmon River, which he had no thought of doing at that time. Some of the tents were pitched in plain sight while the women and children were hidden on the inaccessible ridges and the men concealed in the canyon ready to fire upon the soldiers with deadly effect with scarcely any danger to themselves. They could even roll rocks upon them. In a very few minutes the troops had learned a lesson. The soldiers showed some fight but a large body of frontiersmen who accompanied them were soon in disorder. The warriors chased them nearly ten miles securing rifles and much ammunition and killing and wounding many. The nest purse next crossed the river, made a detour and recrossed it at another point and took their way eastward. All this was by way of delaying pursuit. Joseph told me that he estimated it would take six or seven days to get a sufficient force in the field to take up their trail and the correctness of his reasoning is apparent from the facts as detailed in General Howard's book. He tells us that he waited six days for the arrival of men from various forts in his department, then followed Joseph with six hundred soldiers inside a large number of citizen volunteers and his Indian scouts. As it was evident they had a long chase over trackless wilderness in prospect, he discarded his supply wagons and took pack-wheels instead. But by this time the Indians had a good start. Meanwhile General Howard had sent a dispatch to Colonel Gibbons with orders to head Joseph off, which he undertook to do at the Montana End of the Lola Trail. The wily commander had no knowledge of this move, but he was not to be surprised. He was too brainy for his pursuers, whom he constantly outwitted and only gave battle when he was ready. There at the big hole pass he met Colonel Gibbons' fresh troops and pressed them close. He sent a party under his brother Olicot to harass Gibbons' rear and rout the pack-mules, thus throwing him on the defensive and causing him to send for help. While Joseph continued his masterly retreat toward the Yellowstone Park, then a wilderness. However, this was but little advantage to him, since he must necessarily leave a broad trail and the army was augmenting its columns day by day with celebrated scouts, both white and Indian. The two commands came together and although General Howard says their horses were by this time worn out, and by inference the men as well, they persisted on the trail of a party encumbered by women and children, the old, sick, and wounded. It was decided to send a detachment of cavalry under Bacon to Tash Pass, the gateway of the National Park, which Joseph would have to pass with orders to detain him there until the rest could come up with them. Here is what General Howard says of the affair. Bacon got into position soon enough, but he did not have the heart to fight the Indians on account of their number. Meanwhile another incident had occurred. Right under the eyes of the chosen scouts and vigilant sentinels, Joseph's warriors fired upon the army camp at night and ran off with their mules. He went straight on toward the park where Lieutenant Bacon let him get by and pass through a narrow gateway without firing a shot. Here again it was demonstrated that General Howard could not run on the volunteers, many of whom had joined him in the chase and were going to show the soldiers how to fight the Indians. In this night attack at Camus Meadow they were demoralized and while crossing the river next day many lost their guns in the water whereupon all packed up and went home, leaving the army to be guided by the Indian scouts. However, this succession of defeats did not discourage General Howard, who kept on with many of his men as were able to carry a gun. Meanwhile sending dispatches to all the frontier post with orders to intercept Joseph if possible. Sturgis tried to stop him as the Indians entered the park but they did not meet until he was about to come out. When there was another fight with Joseph again victorious. General Howard came upon the battlefield soon afterward and saw that the Indians were off again and sent fresh messages to General Miles asking for reinforcements. Joseph had now turned northeastward toward the Upper Missouri. He told me that when he got into that part of the country he knew he was very near the Canadian line and could not be far from sitting bull with whom he desired to form an alliance. He also believed that he had cleared all the forts. Therefore he went more slowly and tried to give his people some rest. Some of their best men had been killed or wounded in battle and the wounded were a great burden to him. Nevertheless they were carried and tended patiently all during this wonderful flight. Not one was ever left behind. It is the general belief that Indians are cruel and revengeful and surely these people had reason to hate the race who had driven them from their homes if any people ever had. Yet it is a fact that when Joseph met visitors and travelers in the park, some of whom were women, he allowed them to pass unharmed. And in at least one instant let them have horses. He told me that he gave strict orders to his men not to kill any women or children. He wished to meet his adversaries according to their own standards of warfare, but he afterward learned that in spite of professions of humanity white soldiers have not seldom been known to kill women and children indiscriminately. Another remarkable thing about this noted retreat is that Joseph's people stood behind him to a man and even the women and little boys did each his part. The latter were used as scouts in the immediate vicinity of the camp. The bittersweet valley which they had now entered was full of game and the Indians hunted for food while their worn-out ponies. One morning they had a council to which Joseph rode over bareback as they had camped in two divisions a little apart. His fifteen-year-old daughter went with him. They discussed sending runners to sitting-pool to ascertain his exact whereabouts and whether it would be agreeable to him to join forces with the nest purse. In the midst of the council, a force of United States cavalry charged down the hill between the two camps. This once Joseph was surprised. He had seen no trace of the soldiers and had somewhat relaxed his vigilance. He told his little daughter to stay where she was and himself cut right through the cavalry and rode up to his own TP where his wife met him at the door with his rifle crying, here is your gun, husband. The warriors quickly gathered and pressed the soldiers so hard that they had to withdraw. Meanwhile one set of the people fled while Joseph's own band entrenched themselves in a very favorable position from which they could not easily be dislodged. General Miles had received and acted on General Howard's message and he now sent one of his officers with some Indian scouts into Joseph's camp to negotiate with the chief. Meantime Howard and Sturges came up with the encampment and Howard had with him two friendly nest purse who were directed to talk to Joseph in his own language. He decided that there was nothing to do but surrender. He had believed that his escape was all but secure. Then at the last moment he was surprised and caught at a disadvantage. His army was shattered. He had lost most of the leaders in these various fights. His people including children, women and the wounded had traveled thirteen hundred miles in about four days and he himself a young man who had never before taken any important responsibility. Even now he was not actually conquered. He was well entrenched. His people were willing to die fighting. But the army of the United States offered peace and he agreed as he said out of pity for his suffering people. Some of his warriors still refused to surrender and slipped out of the camp at night and through the lines. Joseph had, as he told me, between three and four hundred fighting men in the beginning, which means over one thousand persons and of these several hundred surrendered with him. His own story of the conditions he made was prepared by himself with my help in 1897 when he came to Washington to present his grievances. I sat up with him nearly all of one night and I may add here that we took the document to General Miles who was then stationed in Washington before presenting it to the department. The general said that every word of it was true. In the first place his people were to be kept at Fort Keough Montana over the winter and then return to their reservation. Instead they were taken to Fort Leavenworth Kansas and placed between a lagoon and the Missouri River where the sanitary conditions made havoc with them. Those who did not die were then taken to the Indian Territory where the health situation was even worse. Joseph appealed to the government again and again and at last with the help of Bishops Whipple and Hare he was moved to the Colville Reservation in Washington. Here the land was very poor unlike their own fertile valley. General Miles said to the chief that he had recommended and urged that their agreement be kept. But the politicians and the people who occupied the Indians land declared they were afraid if he returned he would break out again and murder innocent white settlers. What irony! The great chief Joseph died broken-spirited and broken-hearted. He did not hate the whites for there was nothing small about him and when he laid down his weapons he would not fight on with his mind. But he was profoundly disappointed by the claims of a Christian civilization. I call him great because he was simple and honest. Without education or special training he demonstrated his ability to lead and to fight when justice demanded. He out-generaled the best and most experienced commanders in the Army of the United States although their troops were well provisioned, well armed and above all unencumbered. He was great finally boasted of his remarkable feet. I am proud of him because he was a true American. End of section 13