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OR THE CONQUEST OF THE SIOUX

of scouts in the Wind River valley, accompanied them. His lieutenant was Nelson Yurnell, and his interpreter, a young half-breed, called Ulah Clair. The Indian chiefs of the Snakes present were Wesha and Kawkee, with the two sons of old Washakie.

That night an immense lire was kindled near Crook's tents, and there all the chiefs of both tribes, together with our commanding officers, held " a big talk." Louis Richard acted as interpreter, and had a hard time of it, having to translate in three or four languages. A quarter of an hour intervened between each sentence. The chiefs squatted on their heels according to their ancient custom, and passed the long pipe from man to man. Crook stood in the circle, with his hands in his pockets, looking half bored, half happy. Major Randall, chief of scouts, and other members of the staff were with him. The Indians were quite jolly, and laughed heartily whenever the interpreter made any kind of blunder. The Snakes retired from the council first. They said very little. "Old Crow," the greatest chief of the Crow nation, made the only consecutive speech of the night, and it was a short one. Translated, it was as follows: "The great white chief will hear his Indian brother. These are our lands by inheritance. The Great Spirit gave them to our fathers, but the Sioux stole them from us. They hunt upon our mountains. They fish in our streams. They have stolen our horses. They have murdered our squaws, our children. What white man has done these things to us ? The face of the Sioux is red, but his heart is black. But the heart of the pale face has ever been red to the Crow. [' Ugh!' 'Ugh!'

WAR-PATH AND BIVOUAC

'Hey!' ] The scalp of no white man hangs in our lodges. They are thick as grass in the wigwams of the Sioux. ['Ugh!'] The great white chief will lead us against no other tribe of red men. Our war is with the Sioux and only them. We want back our lands. We want their women for our slaves—to work for us as our women have had to work for them. We want their horses for our young men, and their mules for our squaws. The Sioux have trampled upon our hearts. We shall spit upon their scalps. [' Ugh!' 'Hey!' and terrific yelling.] The great white chief sees that my young men have come to fight. No Sioux shall see their backs. Where the white warrior goes there shall we be also. It is good. Is my brother content?"

The chief and Crook shook hands amid a storm of "Ughs " and yells.

All the red men then left the council fire and went to their villages, where they put on their war-paint and made night hideous with a war-dance and barbarous music. They imitated in succession every beast and bird of the North American forests. Now they roared like a bison bull. Then they mimicked a wildcat. All at once they broke out with the near, fierce howling of a pack of wolves; gradually the sound would die away until you might imagine that the animals were miles off, when, all of a sudden, the howling would rise within a few yards, and in the darkness you would try to discern the foul "coyotes "—next to the Indians the pest of the plains. All night long, despite the incredible fatigue they must have endured in coming to join us, the savages continued their infernal orgies. Their music is

OR THE CONQUEST OF THE SIOUX

fitter for hell than for earth. And yet these were not the worst red men existing. These were "the truly good" Indians. Our young soldiers appeared to relish the yelling business immensely, and made abortive attempts to imitate the Indians, greatly to the amusement of those grotesque savages. I fell asleep dreaming of "roistering devils " and lakes of brimstone.

Crook was bristling for a fight. The Sioux were said to be encamped on the Rosebud, near the Yellowstone river, holding Gibbon at bay. "They are numerous as grass," was the definite Crow manner of stating the strength of the enemy.

Some of the officers, who had had charge of different tribes of Indians at their respective agencies, were fond of discussing at the evening camp-fires the characteristics of the various Indian bands or "nations." From what may be termed the consensus of military opinion I learned what follows:

Nearly every Indian, of any note whatever, possessed at that time two equines—one, a pony for pack work, the other, a horse for war and the chase. The latter can go like a meteor, and has wonderful endurance. Mounted upon him, the Indian warrior could secure a retreat from the Chasseurs d'Afrique of Macmahon, with all their Arab horses.

The Indian war-horse is not as beautiful a beast as the Arabian, but he has more toughness than an ordinary mule. These combined qualities of strength, speed and " hold out" made him the main stay of the red man of the plains, whether he was Sioux, Cheyenne or Snake. Where the

WAR-PATH AND BIVOUAC

breed came from, or of what blood compounded, nobody seems to know. It is not a mustang, neither is it an Arabian—perhaps a combination of both. It may be for aught we know, indigenous to this continent—a theory sustained by the fact that the Indians can get more work out of such a horse than any other race of men, white, black or yellow.

When Indians kill game on the hunt, they cut out the tongue, liver and heart, and, unless very hungry, leave the carcass to rot upon the prairie. They don't want to load their horses much unless when near their villages, where the squaws can dry the meat, for the average Indian is still unchanged —still the same mysterious, untamable, barbaric, unreasonable, childish, superstitious, treacherous, thievish, murderous creature, with rare exceptions, that he has been since first Columbus set eyes upon him at San Salvador. Whether friendly or hostile, the average Indian is a plunderer. He will first steal from his enemy. If he cannot get enough that way, he steals from his friends. While the warriors are fat, tall and good-looking, except in a few cases, the squaws are squatty, yellow, ugly and greasy looking. Hard work disfigures them, for their lazy brutes of sons, husbands and brothers will do no work, and the unfortunate women are used as so many pack mules. Treated with common fairness, the squaws might grow tolerably comely; their figures being generally worse than their faces. It is acknowledged by all that the Sioux women are better treated and handsomer than those of all other tribes. Also they are more virtuous, and the gayest white Adonises confess that the girls of that race seldom yield to the seducer,

OR THE CONQUEST OF THE SIOUX

The Sioux abhor harlots, and treat them in a most inhuman manner—even as they treat white captive women— when they are detected. If they do not kill them outright, they injure them for life and then drive them from the tribe. Among the married, such as their marriage is— for polygamy is a recognized institution in the tribe—adultery generally means death to the female concerned if she is discovered, while among the interested " braves "it begets a feud that only blood can extinguish. The Sioux hold it a sin against nature—according to their ideas of sin and nature—for a woman to remain unmarried, and they sometimes punish her, if she continues obstinate, in a very cruel and indelicate fashion. Fortunately for the Sioux women, they, for the most part, believe in matrimony and are spared all trouble on the score of their prolonged virginity.

Imagine all the old maids in America being punished because the men of their generation did not have the good taste to woo and marry them! The Sioux will not have any old maids hanging around their wigwams. This is a truly patriarchal way of providing husbands for the fair sex.

The other Indian tribes are more lax in their ideas of female propriety, and care much less whether a woman is married or the reverse. Taken all in all, the Sioux must be descendants of Cain, and are veritable children of the devil. The rest are a very little behind them, except in point of personal appearance and daring, in which the Sioux excel nearly all other Indians. Most of them are greedy, greasy, gassy, lazy and knavish.

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In connection with the subject of female Sioux virtue, I am reminded of a story which caused great amusement in military circles several years ago. A certain handsome and dashing cavalry officer, now deceased, was badly smitten with the really pretty daughter of a leading Sioux chief, whose village was situated quite close to the post. Lieutenant paid some attentions to the girl, in order to while away the tedious summer hours, and, one day, remarked casually to a half-breed interpreter that he would like to own the savage princess and take her East as a living curiosity. The half-breed, taking the matter seriously, informed the maiden's warlike sire. The latter took the matter in good faith also, and resolved to make the "giving away" of his daughter in marriage, for that was how he understood it, memorable. The gay lieutenant was then acting adjutant of his battalion, and at the evening parade, just as he had " set his battle in array," heard a most infernal tumult in the direction of the Indian village. The major in command looked both annoyed and astonished and asked for an explanation. The adjutant could give none, but, by order of his superior, rode in the direction of the disturbance to find out, if possible, its meaning. As he approached the village he saw a great cavalcade moving toward him at full speed, with the old chief and his daughter heading the procession. A horrible suspicion dawned upon the mind of the unlucky adjutant, and this was confirmed a moment later, when the half-breed interpreter, and author of all the mischief, rode forward to inform the officer that Spotted Elk was coming up to the post in due order to surrender his

OR THE CONQUEST OF THE SIOUX

daughter into the keeping of Lieutenant as his wife—or one of his wives. Uttering a most heart-felt malediction on the chief, the girl, the interpreter and the whole Indian generation, Lieutenant spurred back to the parade, requested to be relieved on the ground of sudden illness, wrote a note of explanation to his commanding officer, obtained temporary leave of absence, which was afterwards extended, and bade an eternal farewell to the post, and the village and the Indian princess.

Long afterwards, I met the hero of the foregoing adventure, and found him one of the most winning and gifted officers of the army, who, although an American, had all of " an Irishman's heart for the ladies," and all the Hibernian's fondness for getting into love scrapes. Poor ! He died in the flower of his years—died, too, plainly and unromantically, in his bed, and not as he would wish to have died, on the broad field and at the head of charging squadrons.

CHAPTER IX.

SCOUT AND BUFFALO HUNT

Our Indian allies kept up their terrible racket during the whole night after their arrival in our camp, but next morning, June 15th, they were up bright and early to receive rations, ammunition and, such as needed them, new government guns. They were an exceedingly picturesque assemblage, painted and befeathered in all the barbaric splendor of the Indian tribes of that day. They sat in a huge semicircle around the tents and wagons of the quartermaster's department, and received their supplies with aboriginal solemnity; often, however, betraying their satisfaction by the inevitable Indian grunt, which has the sound of " ugh!"

The General had determined to mount his infantry on mules in order to expedite their movements when marching against the Sioux. Accordingly the mules destined for this duty, to the number of 200, most of them entirely unbroken to the saddle, were taken to a flat space down by the creek, and a few hundred yards from camp. The unhappy infantry men, who were to mount the animals, were brought there also, while Colonel Chambers, Major Burt, Captain Luhn, and the officers of Crook's staff, aided by several veteran sergeants who had seen mounted service, proceeded to break in the unwilling riders. I subsequently saw those foot soldiers do their duty most heroically, but I am bound in

WAR-PATH AND BIVOUAC

truth to confess, that their bearing on the morning of June 15, 1876, was anything but awe-inspiring. The mules, first of all, were forced to take the regulation cavalry bridle into their unwilling jaws, and then the rather clumsy McClellan saddle, universally used in our service at that period, was placed upon their backs, doubly secured by girth and surcingle. Then the fun began. A cloud of mule-heels, shod in iron, would rise simultaneously in the air, while the shrill neighing and squealing of the brutes displayed the great indignation that possessed them. They were then allowed to quiet down somewhat, and the unused infantry were ordered to mount their rebellious "steeds." Immediately some of the mules ran off, bucking fiercely, and every minute a score of foot soldiers would either stand on their heads or measure their length in the deep, soft grass, which alone prevented their bones being broken. Other mules would "buck" right where they stood, and then a soldier might be seen shooting up in the air like a rocket, and his very "dull thud" would soon after be heard as his body struck mother earth in his fall from among the clouds.

The Indians, attracted by the noise, and full of native devilment, rushed down from the quartermaster's to see the sport, and their deep laughter at every mishap denoted the satisfaction they felt at the discomfiture of the battered and disgusted infantry. Some of the young warriors would seize the runaway mules, jump upon their backs and demonstrate to the whole command what a natural-born equestrian the North American Indian is. The officers persevered in the experiment, and, by noon, most of the foot troops had

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acquired sufficient mastery over their "mounts" to enable them to keep their saddles with a doubtful degree of adhesiveness.