CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE PEACE COMMISSION OF 1866.

[Sidenote: LOSS OF THE “EFFIE DEANS.”]

We left Captain La Barge in 1865 just as he had returned from Montana on his second journey by way of Great Salt Lake. His boat, the _Effie Deans_, had reached St. Louis some time before he did. The boat was still owned in partnership with John S. McCune and Eugene Jaccard. La Barge tried to get full possession of her, offering, however, either to buy or sell. Not being able to negotiate a purchase, he demanded a dissolution of the partnership, and bought the boat in. He then put six thousand dollars’ worth of repairs on her, and in the spring advertised for a trip to Benton. He secured a full cargo, and had every prospect of a profitable trip, when one of those sudden accidents overtook him which were so common in the hazardous business he was carrying on. He had hesitated a good deal about insuring the boat, and finally, upon McCune’s advice, concluded not to do so. He felt safe if he could get out of port, the greatest danger being from fire there. The insurance rates were so high that it was a great object to avoid them, if possible. It was on Friday that he had his talk with McCune and decided not to insure. He was to start next morning. He mentioned to his wife what he had done, and she, with a woman’s intuition, remonstrated strongly, saying she knew he would repent it. About one o’clock next morning the doorbell rang. La Barge raised the window and asked who it was. “Watchman of the _Effie Deans_,” was the reply. “What is the matter?” asked the Captain. “The _Effie Deans_ is burned up.”

“The loss to me,” said Captain La Barge, “was difficult to reconcile, from the fact of my having rejected insurance the day before, as well as an offer of forty thousand dollars for the boat the same day. The fire had been communicated to the boat from one of the neighboring vessels, the _Nevada_, and was in no sense the fault of my crew. Next morning Robert Campbell came down to the levee and said he understood I had no insurance on the boat. I replied that such was the case. He said that he had always put me down as a prudent man, but that such a course showed great recklessness. I replied that I thought not; that the loss was the fault of my neighbors, and not my own. ‘Well, if that is any consolation, I have nothing more to say,’ he replied, and walked away. His apparent indifference surprised me. I had done business with him for many years, and had paid him as high as sixty thousand dollars commissions. Now, in my misfortune, he did not as much as offer the least assistance.

[Sidenote: BUILDING OF THE “OCTAVIA.”]

“Very different was the conduct of John S. McCune. He also came down soon after Campbell left. He looked at the wreck, said it was most unfortunate, talked very little, but told me to be early at his office Monday morning. I called according to appointment. McCune said, ‘You have got to have a new boat. Let us go down to the Marine Railway Ways in Carondelet and see what we can do.’ We went down, saw the superintendent, told him what we wanted, and asked him if he could undertake the construction of a boat. He replied that he could, and McCune told him to go ahead on my plans, and he would back me with his credit. I drew the entire plans and specifications for the boat, machinery and all, and she was built that summer accordingly. Before I got back in the fall McCune had named her for me, but I renamed her _Octavia_, for my second daughter. She cost fifty-seven thousand dollars, and was a splendid boat. I paid for her partly in cash and gave my notes for the balance.”

[Sidenote: NORTHWESTERN TREATY COMMISSION.]

In the meantime a commission had been appointed to go up the river and make treaties with certain tribes of Indians in regard to the right of way for railroads across their lands. It was officially known as the Northwestern Treaty Commission, but was popularly referred to as the Peace Commission of 1866. It was composed of Newton Edmunds, Governor of Dakota Territory; General S. R. Curtis, a well-known officer of the Iowa Volunteers; Orrin Guernsey, and the Rev. Henry W. Reed, who so long figured as an Indian agent on the upper river. The Commission were well provided with presents and proposed to travel in becoming state. Captain La Barge had secured for the summer, while the _Octavia_ was building, another boat, a fine new one, the _Ben Johnson_. The Commission contracted with the Captain to carry them up the river and back at three hundred dollars per day. One of the Commissioners wanted the Captain to hire his son as clerk, or in some other capacity, at five dollars per day. The Captain had made up his crew and did not care to go to this extra and unnecessary expense. But as the Commissioner rather insisted, the charter price was raised to $305 per day, and the young man enjoyed a fat sinecure during the trip--an instance of the kind of corruption which was almost universal in the period following the war.

[Sidenote: PEACE COMMISSION A FAILURE.]

To Captain La Barge the voyage seemed more like a pleasure excursion than a business enterprise. The boat moved by very leisurely stages, always tying up early in the evening and starting late in the morning. Whist and other games were the order of the day. Long stops were made at all interesting points, and the party enjoyed exceptional opportunities of seeing Indian life in all its wildness. As a means of accomplishing any good, the Commission was looked upon from the first by the people of the Missouri Valley as little more than a farce. No end of ridicule was poured upon it, and it was held up to the general contempt by those who had any definite acquaintance with the situation. The Indians were generally loath to negotiate, fearing that the Commission “would want them to sign some paper that would take from them their lands and houses and oblige them to seek new ones farther west.” It cannot be said that any good came from this Commission--certainly nothing to justify its great expense. It did without doubt create new complications, lead to increased dissatisfaction on the part of the Indians, and, on the whole, aggravate an already serious situation.[71]

Some of the incidents on this trip had a flavor of danger about them, and we shall narrate one as given us by Captain La Barge. It related to an interview of the Commissioners with the Yanktonais, who were well known as the most relentlessly hostile of any of the Sioux tribes.

“Some twenty miles below the mouth of White Earth River,” said Captain La Barge, “I saw two Indian hunters on the hills. I hailed them, landed the steamer, asked them on board, and after feasting them (an indispensable preliminary to the transaction of any business), inquired if they were Yanktonais, and if so where were the rest of the tribe. They replied in the affirmative, and said that their camp was about ten miles off, on the White Earth River. The Chairman of the Commission asked them to go to camp and tell the chiefs to move their whole village down to the mouth of the White Earth and there await the arrival of the boat for the purpose of holding a council. He inquired the size of the village, and found it to be six hundred tepees, which meant about three thousand Indians.

[Sidenote: A VIGOROUS REMONSTRANCE.]

“I remonstrated at this proposition, strongly urging that only the chiefs be invited. Should so powerful a band of these hostile Indians get any advantage of us they would certainly use it. We had no power of resisting them, having only thirty people in all, and they were poorly armed. The Indians would, I feared, make a rush and attempt to capture the steamer as soon as we landed. Our interpreter, Zephyr Rencontre, seconded me in this opinion. I had been in the power of these Indians once before, and, thanks to Rencontre, I was wearing my hair on this occasion.

[Sidenote: AFRAID OF INDIANS.]

“The Chairman of the Commission said he perceived that I was afraid of the Indians, but not to be alarmed; he would answer for all harm. The Indians would never dare molest a government officer. To me, who had spent all my life among the Indians, this gratuitous insinuation from a mere novice in Indian experience cut me to the quick, and I replied: ‘Very well, I will land as you say, but before we get through we shall see who is afraid of Indians.’

“This was another instance of the mistakes made by our government in the selection, to treat with the Indians, of men without knowledge of the native character. It was a universal rule that such men would treat with contempt the cautious bearing of those who knew the Indians; and this ignorant bravado has many times led to disastrous consequences. It is very unpleasant to act with such men, who ridicule one’s honest knowledge of peril, and are powerless to help when they get you into danger. It was also a common observation with me that the volunteer officers of the war were always more haughty and overbearing than those bred to the profession. They loved to assume, assert, and display authority, where the trained soldier would see no occasion to do so.

“I said to Curtis on this occasion, ‘This course is contrary to my judgment, General; and in order not to be responsible for the consequences I desire a positive order from you before I adopt it.’ He gave me the order. The Indians arrived just as we were tying up the boat. The women immediately commenced setting up the lodges and the men began to rush on board. They were all armed. Curtis had said, when I foretold this: ‘We will keep them off, only letting on those we want.’ I replied, ‘You will see, General. It will be impossible to keep them off.’

[Sidenote: MATTERS BECOME SERIOUS.]

“As already stated, the Indians at once rushed on board, and unfortunately did not congregate in one place, but scattered themselves in every direction. Matters at once became serious. I was thoroughly alarmed for the safety of the boat and her passengers, but remained perfectly cool and indifferent in outward appearance, and did not permit myself to resent the actions of the Indians. An act of that sort might have precipitated difficulty. We were over a powder mine, and a spark was liable to fall at any moment. The Indians became insolent, would elbow us around, sneer at us, display their muscular arms, and try in every way to provoke us to action. One Indian, an ugly fellow and noted villain, Crazy Wolf, followed me everywhere I went, armed with gun, pistol, and bow and arrows. He tried in every way to get me to notice him. At this time I consulted with Zephyr on the situation, saying that I feared trouble was brewing. He replied that he thought so too, and that I had better prepare for prompt measures. I had steam kept up. Pilot and engineer remained at their posts, and the mate was kept forward. He had been instructed to cut the line whenever he should hear a single tap of the bell.

[Sidenote: FUTILE ATTEMPT AT NEGOTIATIONS.]

“Meanwhile the Commissioners had been attempting negotiations, but to little purpose. In front, on the boiler deck, there were a table and seats for the principal Indians. Curtis tried to call them to order, but without success. He then summoned Rencontre and tried to talk to them. He told them he was about to roll some bales of goods on shore and requested that they would withdraw and distribute them. They answered to roll them on shore; the women would take care of them; for their part they would remain on the boat.

“Nothing whatever could be done. Matters became dubious. One by one the Commissioners slipped away and locked themselves in their staterooms. General Curtis was finally left alone, and after a while he also withdrew, and told me to get out of the scrape as best I could. He fully realized the gravity of the blunder he had made, and his own inability to cope with the situation.

[Sidenote: A SUDDEN PANIC.]

[Sidenote: ENOUGH OF A GOOD THING.]

“The Indians as yet had made no attempt on the staterooms, but they were incensed at the withdrawal of the Commissioners and might do so at any moment. Rencontre said to me, ‘The Indians don’t like this, and will give us trouble. We had better do something right away.’ ‘Is it time to cut loose?’ I asked. ‘I think so,’ he replied. I gave the signal, the line was cut, the wheels began to turn backward and the boat slid quickly from the bank. The sudden move astounded the Indians. Those on shore seized the line and began pulling before they discovered that it was cut. I knew they would not dare to fire, for fear of shooting their own people. Those on the boat were panic-stricken and began to leap overboard. I caused the nose of the boat to be held close to shore so that they could get to land without drowning, and in a few minutes the boat was clear of them. Then, reversing the engines, we steered for the opposite shore and made the boat fast. The danger being over, I went to Curtis’ room and told him it was safe for him to come out. When he appeared I said: ‘Who is afraid of Indians now, General Curtis?’ His only reply was: ‘Who would have thought that the rascals would dare molest a government officer?’ They cared a good deal about a government officer, indeed, and the remark showed how little he knew of the Indian character. I asked the General if he wanted to make another trial, but he replied that he had had enough.

“No further attempt was made to treat with these Indians, and we went on up the river. As on a previous occasion, the Indians followed us. Durfee & Peck at this time had a post on the site where Fort Buford later stood. The Indians made a signal from the opposite side of the river that they had robes to sell, and the agent at the post wanted to borrow our yawl to go across and get them. I consented, but advised against it. They crossed and actually bought several hundred robes, but just as the boat was about to put back, the Indians jumped upon the crew, killed one, severely wounded another, and would have killed all, had I not promptly crossed over with the steamboat to their assistance. Mr. Durfee afterward thanked me very heartily for this action.”

The Commissioners then went on to old Fort Union, where they remained for a time treating with the Assiniboines, Crows, and Grosventres. The Crows and the Grosventres came down by the steamboat _Miner_, under promise that they should be taken back to their camp on the Musselshell by boat. The river being too low to take so large a boat as the _Ben Johnson_ farther up in safety, the Commission impressed into their service, for the purpose of taking these Indians back, a small boat, the _Amanda_, which was in the employ of the War Department. She was then on her way up the river to meet Colonel Reeve, who was expected back from the Judith, where he had just established a post. The Crows and Grosventres, with their presents and with copies of the new treaties, got on board and started up the river. The agent for the Blackfeet, George B. Wright, was also on board on his way to Fort Benton.

[Sidenote: CROWS HAVE TO WALK.]

At the mouth of the Milk River the _Amanda_ met Colonel Reeve, who promptly took the boat into his own charge, put the Indians ashore with their presents and other property, and left them to walk home. The anger of the Crows was fired to a desperate pitch by this action. They refused to take the presents, tore up some of the treaties, and sent others back to the Commissioners, and declared that they would henceforth fire upon every boat going up the river. Agent Wright thought the situation too critical for him to attempt to go on overland to Benton, so he returned with the boat and went to his station by way of Omaha, Salt Lake, and Helena. The Commissioners criticised him severely for this action, and he, on the other hand, charged them with positive misrepresentation in regard to their work. They had already prepared a report setting forth in glowing terms their success in treating with the various tribes. Agent Wright had likewise written a report of his experiences at the mouth of Milk River and the action of the Crows in repudiating the treaties. As the two reports conflicted in important matters the Commission requested, and finally prevailed upon, Agent Wright to modify his report, so as to be in harmony with their own.

[Sidenote: MERCENARY PATRIOTISM.]

After the business was completed at Fort Union the _Ben Johnson_ turned her prow downstream and proceeded homeward by leisurely stages, stopping at the various camps, agencies, and military posts. The property remaining on the boat was put off partly at Yankton, partly at Sioux City, and partly at Omaha. At Sioux City it was put off at night. Captain La Barge knew nothing of it. Hearing the noise of unloading he arose and went to see what was going on, and found the crew unloading freight. He asked by whose orders they were doing this, and they replied, those of the Commission. He said no more. It was clearly the intention to conceal this move from him, and again he saw how mercenary was the patriotism of many of our government officials. The boat pursued her way safely to St. Louis, where she arrived late in August.

[Sidenote: THE “OCTAVIA” FINISHED.]

Captain La Barge turned over the steamer to her owners and took possession of his new boat, the _Octavia_, brought her to the wharf, finished her construction, and left on her first trip October 1. He ran in the lower river the rest of the season, and then on the Mississippi until ice closed in. He laid up the boat for the winter at Kimmswick, twenty miles below St. Louis.