Читать книгу "Great-Heart" - Daniel Henderson - Страница 13

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A peril Roosevelt faced arose from his proximity to bad Indians. In roaming through the uninhabited country surrounding his ranch there was constant danger of meeting bands of young bucks. These redskins were generally insolent and reckless, and if they met a white man when the chances of their detection and punishment were slight they would take away his horse and rifle, if not his life.

One morning Roosevelt had set out on a solitary trip to the country beyond his ranch. He was near the middle of a plateau when a small band of Indians suddenly rode over the edge in front of him. The minute they saw him, out came their guns. Full tilt they dashed at him, whooping and brandishing their weapons in typical Indian style. Roosevelt reined up and dismounted. His horse, Manitou, stood steady as a rock. When the Indians were a hundred yards off, Roosevelt threw his rifle over Manitou’s back and drew a bead on the foremost redskin. Instantly the party scattered, doubled back on their tracks and bent over alongside their horses to shield themselves from Roosevelt’s gun. Out of rifle range, they held a consultation, and then one came forward alone, dropping his rifle and waving a blanket over his head. When he was within fifty yards he yelled out: “How! Me good Indian.” Roosevelt returned the “How,” and assured him that he was delighted to know that he was a good Indian, but that he would not be permitted to come closer. The other Indians came closer, but Roosevelt’s rifle covered them. After an outburst of profanity, they galloped away in an opposite direction from Roosevelt’s route. Later in the day Roosevelt met two trappers, who told him that his assailants were young Sioux bucks, who had robbed them of two horses.

In his account of this episode, Roosevelt takes care to point out that there is another side to the Indian character, as indeed all America has found out since the gallantry of our Indian brothers in the world war. He illustrates this by telling how, while spending the night in a small cow ranch on the Beaver, he lay in his bunk listening to the conversation of two cowboys. They were speaking of Indians, and mentioned a jury that had acquitted a horse-thief of the charge of stealing stock from a neighboring tribe, though the thief himself had openly admitted its truth. One of these cowboys suddenly remarked that he had once met an Indian who was a pretty good fellow, and he proceeded to tell the story.

A small party of Indians had passed the winter near the ranch at which he was employed. The chief had two particularly fine horses. These so excited the cowboy’s cupidity that one night he drove them off and hid them in a safe place. The chief looked for them high and low, but without success. Soon afterward one of the cowboy’s own horses strayed. When spring came the Indians went away, but three days afterward the chief returned, bringing with him the strayed horse, which he had happened to run across. “I couldn’t stand that,” said the narrator, “so I just told him I reckoned I knew where his own lost horses were, and I saddled up my bronco and piloted him to them.”

Still another story is cited by Roosevelt in denial of the saying, “The only good Indian is a dead Indian.” Once, on visiting a neighboring ranch, he found waiting there three well-behaved and self-respecting Sioux. The woman on the ranch told him that a white man had come along and tried to run off with their horses. Running out, they had caught him, retaken their horses, deprived him of his guns and released him.

“I don’t see why they let him go,” exclaimed Roosevelt’s hostess. “I don’t believe in stealing Indians’ horses any more than white folks’ so I told them they could go along and hang him—I’d never cheep.”

When, many years later, Roosevelt became President, his knowledge of the condition of the Indians led him to become their stanch champion. There was then an enormous amount of fraud practised by white men in obtaining possession of Indian lands. Roosevelt used his executive power to protect Indian rights and appointed as Indian Commissioner Francis E. Leupp, one of the best friends the Indians ever had.