Chapter 9

Professor Leidy, of Philadelphia, has detected about thirty remains of species of extinct mammalia. Many of these belonged to animals such as the hippopotamus, rhinoceros, tapir, etc. One extinct animal, called the Oreodon, had grinding teeth like lions, cats, etc., and must have belonged to a race that lived on vegetables and flesh, and yet chewed the cud like a cow. Another called the Machairodus, was wholly carnivorous, and combined the size and weight of the grizzly bear with the jaws and teeth of the Bengal tiger. Most of the bones are yet in good preservation and highly mineralized. Dr. Owen says he saw all the bones of a skeleton eighteen feet long and nine in height; also a jaw of a similar animal, which measured five feet along the range of its teeth. At one place there is a valley which has the appearance of a floor of an ancient lake, where turtles lie imbedded by hundreds, and some weighing a ton. This wonderful place looks like the city of the dead; and as nothing grows there, and there is no water for animals, no living thing is found there, not even a bird. General Sully made a forced march through it with cavalry a few years ago, and had to carry water for the men and horses. The Indians never go there, unless driven in by some tribe attacking in superior numbers. The fossils which have been brought from the Mauvaises Terres belong to a species that became extinct before the period when the Mastodon inhabited this country. The strata in which these animals are imbedded indicate that the water was fresh or brackish. It is the most desolate and barren prospect one could lay his eyes on; and if the place for bad people is like this, when they come to die, may no boy have to go there and be frightened all his life-long for his wicked and cruel deeds to others, or to animals either; for the sight of these skeletons is enough to make any boy afraid of disobeying his mother, or to go to sleep any night without being sorry for his sins.

Gold is said to be deposited there, and may yet be found in large quantities, if the Indians can be induced to let the whites prospect there. A while since, an Indian brought into a fort some gold-dust and a large nugget. The post-trader looked at it and pretended it was iron, saying to the Indian, "No good." He threw it out of the window and gave the Indian a glass of whisky. When he went out, the trader picked it up, and it was worth thirty dollars. The Indian having refused to tell where he got it, was made quite drunk, and then he said it came from the Bad Lands; but if the chief found out he had told of it, he would kill him.

NATURAL HISTORY--ANIMALS ON THE PLAINS.

The animals which are found west of the Missouri River, especially in the Rocky Mountains, and far beyond them, are the buffalo, elk, deer, cimarron bear, mountain sheep, antelope, coyote, prairie-dog, etc.

The buffalo, which affords good beef to the Indian hunters, and has fed many thousand toilers over the plains to Salt Lake and California, is mainly known to boys in the comfortable buffalo robes, which every one knows the use of in sleigh-riding. But to us officers and soldiers on the plains they are life-preservers almost, in our sleeping out nights on the ground, far away from home and good beds and blankets.

The buffalo meat is tough, unless from a young cow; and the Indians make little difference in drying it for winter use, as they have good teeth and always a first-rate appetite. The skins are dried and tanned by the squaws, who lay them on the grass; and I saw an old gray-haired squaw toiling away with a sharp instrument, made of the end of a gun-barrel, something like a carpenter's gouge, and this had a bone handle, with which she kept scraping off the inside of the skin of its fibres, so as to make it soft and pliable. She had a stone to sharpen the tool with, and as she leaned over, tugging away, the perspiration rolled off her face in streams. Poor old creature, I felt sorry for her, as the work might have been done by several big, lazy, half-grown Indian boys I saw romping around and shooting their arrows at a mark. But it is disgraceful for the _lords of creation to labor_, so they only kill the game, and leave the squaws to cure and prepare it for eating.

It is astonishing how poorly Indians are compensated for their robes and furs. In Colorado, some Indians had been very successful in killing buffaloes, had plenty of meat, and purchased with their robes flour, sugar, coffee, dry-goods, and trinkets from the white and Mexican traders; but they did not realize one-fourth their value. They were worth eight or nine dollars by the bale at wholesale. The traders paid seventy-five cents in brass wire or other trinkets for a robe; two dollars in groceries, and less in goods. Six tribes, in 1864, furnished at least fifteen thousand robes, which, at eight dollars, would amount to one hundred and twenty thousand dollars. The traders literally swindled the poor Indians. _They will give the robe off their backs for a bottle of whisky on the coldest day._

The cimarron bear is avoided by the soldiers, if possible, when met by them. Up in the Wind River country, a soldier was mauled terribly by one which he had wounded, but failed to kill on the first fire. The fight was desperate, for the bear, said to have been six or seven feet long, and weighing nine hundred pounds, had clinched the soldier, and both rolled down the ravine together, the other soldiers afraid to fire lest they should hit the poor comrade, almost in the jaws of death. They did rescue him, however, by lunging a knife into bruin's side, compelling him to release his hold, after lacerating the soldier's arm and side.

The coyote is a kind of wolf that preys on the antelope. It is a mean, sneaking thief, too mean to attack a herd of antelopes, but follows them up, and while one strays off, grazing, watches the opportunity to spring upon his victim, run him down, and snap the hamstring of poor antelope, and then eats him.

One night I was woke up at Fort Sedgwick, thinking I heard wild geese flying over. But I learned it was a drove of coyotes, which came over the bluffs, into and through the fort nightly, to eat the refuse meat outside, where beef was slaughtered. They prowl about, and sometimes make a noise like a lot of school-children hallooing at play. They never bite, unless attacked. An old lady got lost about a mile outside the post, at Russell, in the winter. She started out of Cheyenne, one Monday afternoon, to search for an emigrant train which might be going to Montana, where she had a son living.

She strayed away and was found in a snow-bank, by some soldiers going out to dig a grave. She was glad to see the faces of white men, for it was on Friday, and she had thus been out, wandering around since Monday, four days! She was brought into the hospital and given a warm cup of tea. "Dear me," she exclaimed, "give me a quart,--I'm almost famished!" She said she was only frightened by the coyotes coming round nights and barking at her. Her feet were partly frozen, but in a few weeks she went on to Montana.

The black-tailed deer are fine eating; the grass on which they feed in the mountains is said to make the meat tender and sweet.

The mountain sheep are large and very strong; they will throw themselves from a rocky cliff and strike on their head many feet below unharmed, being protected by horns and stout necks. They are larger than our domestic sheep.

The antelope is a pretty, gazelle-like creature, fleet and agile in springing up and running. Having passed over the Union Pacific Railroad many times, it has been my pleasure to see them running away from the train in droves of a dozen or more, in file one after the other, till out of sight, far away over the bluffs. By-and-by they will disappear as the buffalo have, driven away by approaching civilization. The young are easily caught and tamed, and make nice pets for children. The cost of one here is usually five dollars. They are hunted a good deal for their meat, as antelopes are tender and sweet to the palate. One method in hunting them is to raise a white or red flag, and the silly creatures, full of curiosity, will turn and walk towards it till shot down by the marksman.

The prairie-dog is an animal peculiar to the plains. He is found in what is called a "dog-town;" being a plot of a few acres, as seen alongside the railroad, after a day and night's ride, dotted over with mounds a foot or so high. Sometimes a thousand or more congregate in the town, and their holes are a few rods apart. When approaching these towns, or the cars pass along, you see them scamper off to the top of the mound, stand up on their hind-legs and bark, shaking their little short tails at each bark, and presently plunge head first into their holes. They are of a brown color, size of a squirrel, but with tails an inch long. I tried to drown out some, and poured several barrels of water into a hole without bringing any out. These holes ramify into others, generally, so it was impossible, in my experience, though others do get hold of a single hole, and drown them out. Rattlesnakes and small owls make their homes with them. These are interlopers, as the prairie-dogs dig the holes down about three to four feet. They can be tamed, as I know by experience, having carried several east to Chicago, to my Sunday-school children.

One night in Colorado, on the Cache le Poudre River, while camping out there (having gone with a detective in search of horse-thieves), I heard a terrible clatter among the prairie-dogs late in the night. It was explained to me by the ranchman, who said they were in the habit of changing their domiciles once a year, and it was only effected after a great struggle and fight among themselves. By sunrise, four o'clock in the morning, all was still; and the little fellows were running about in search of roots, upon which they live all winter, down in their dark, deep holes. They belong to the species marmot, and are said to be good eating. I have never tried them. Friday, Arapahoe chief, told me that the Indians make use of their oil to cure rheumatism.

A NIGHT SCENE.

The Bishop of Nebraska visited the Pawnee reservation, near Columbus, and the head chief had just before lost his only son by death. He was feeling very unhappy about it, and he told the interpreter to say to "The little medicine-man-in-the-big-heap-sleeves," "That he had lost his son, and was feeling very heavy here" (laying his hand upon his heart); adding, "All is dark, and I want him to tell me what the Great Spirit has got to say to me in my sorrow."

The bishop said, "Tell him that we have a prayer in the book, we always say, 'for persons in affliction;' we will all kneel down and repeat it sentence by sentence, and remain in silent prayer." There in the shadows of the evening, a few whites mingling among the dusky faces, as the lights shone upon their bent forms, prayer was offered for consolation and healing of the poor old man's heart. It was a solemn scene, and many sobs were heard from the Indian women. After a little while, all rose up from their knees, and the tall chief, standing erect, said, with beaming eye, "Say to the Father, say to him, it's all gone! all gone!" He added, "We are glad to hear such words from the Great Spirit. We have been told many words from our fathers many moons since; they have told us good words; that when we do wrong the Great Spirit is angry with us. Sometimes we forget what they told us, and do wrong, killing one another. Now, we are told you have a good book that tells you all you ought to do; and if we had it and could read it in our tents, maybe we would be better. But we are too old to learn it now. Teach it to our children,--teach it to our little ones!" What an answer to prayer!

THE MISSION HOUSE.

The chapel and the mission-house, which is the home of the Santee Sioux, were mainly built by the Indians. A hospital is to be built soon for them, mainly through the Christian efforts of William Welsh, Esq., of Philadelphia.

INDIAN LANGUAGE, COUNTING, ETC.

Wah-ge-la, one. Cow or ox, dib-lish. Numpa, two. Candle, pal-a-za-zar. Zomina, three. Cat, how-i-win-go-lar. Do-be, four. Boy, ox-i-la. Yap-ta, five. Girl, wi-tin-chil-a. Sha-ko-pe, six. Small, chu-chil-la. Shoko, seven. Hat, por-ta. Sho-go-lo-ra, eight. Snow, of-hene. Nim-chalk, nine. Pot or kettle, mushta. Wieh-grin-ina, ten. Good, wash-ta. Dog, sumka. Don't know, so-lo-wash-ta. Horse, tu-gon-ka. To-morrow, umpa.

Major Van Voost, at Fort Kearney, always told the Indians who begged, "Yes, call to-morrow." So they kept calling, and finally gave him the name "Umpa."

INDIANS ATTACK LIEUT. W. DOUGHERTY--FIGHT BETWEEN FORTS FETTERMAN AND RENO.

Lieutenant D---- started down from Fort Reno in the month of March, 1868, and when within seventeen miles of Reno, he was attacked by a band of Indians while he and his escort of a sergeant, eight men, four citizens, two teamsters, and servant, were eating supper at Camp Dry Fork, on Powder River. The distance between the two posts is ninety-five miles. Springing to their feet, the soldiers fought off the Indians till they could harness the teams and start for Fort Reno. The fight was very severe, the Indians having every advantage of position, as they skulk over the bluffs and come in upon soldiers and others when least expected. By a bold dash at them, Lieutenant D---- succeeded in driving them off. They had shot an arrow into the shoulder of a dog belonging to one of the soldiers. The dog ran towards Reno, _carrying the arrow all the way_ (seventeen miles), _sticking into the poor creature's hide_, causing him immense pain. And when he came in, his appearance apprised the commanding officer of the condition Lieutenant D---- and his handful of men were in, and he at once sent a reinforcement of two companies to rescue the besieged. This was the only way they had of knowing that the party were attacked, and no wonder it was regarded as a providential circumstance.

All reached Fetterman in safety the next evening, and the dog is still a hero among the boys of Company D, 18th United States Infantry.

SPEECH OF "WHITE SHIELD," HEAD CHIEF OF THE ARICKAREES.

FORT BERTHOLD, D. T., July 2d, 1864.

I speak for my brothers, the Arickarees, Gros Ventres, and Mandaris. We all live in peace in the same village, as you see us. We have a long time been the friends of the white man, and we will still be. Our grandfathers, the Black Bear of the Arickarees, and the Four Bears of the Gros Ventres, were at the treaty with our white brothers on the Platte a long time ago. They told us to be the friends of our white brothers, and not go to war with our neighbors, the Dakota Sioux, Chippewas, Crees, Assinaboines, Crows, or Blackfeet.

We listened to their words as long as they were heard in council. They have both been killed by the Dakotas; we have none left among us who heard the talk at the treaty on the Platte.

We want a new treaty with our Great Father. We want him to tell us where we must live. We own the country from Heart River to the Black Hills, from there to the Yellowstone River, and north to Moose River.

We are afraid of the Dakotas; they will kill us, our squaws and children, and steal our horses. We must stay in our village for fear of them. Our Great Father has promised us soldiers to help us keep the Dakotas out of our country. No help has come yet; we must wait. Has our Great Father forgotten his children? We want to live in our country, or have pay for it, as our Great Father is used to do with his other red children. We, the Arickarees, have been driven from our country on the other side of the Missouri River by the Dakotas. We came to our brothers, the Gros Ventres and Mandans; they received us as brothers, and we all live together in their village. We thank our brothers very much. We want our Father to bring us guns to hunt with, and we want dresses, coats, pants, shirts, and hats for our soldiers, and a different dress for our chiefs. We want a school for our children. Our hearts are good. We do not speak with two tongues. We like to see our white brothers come among us very much. We hear bad talk, but have no ears. When we hear good talk, we have ears.

his WHITE x SHIELD. mark

To our Great Father in Washington.

INDIAN TRADING.

A bargain is never concluded so long as anything more can be obtained by an Indian from a white man. This feature of Indian character is very old indeed. I remember, when a child, that when one gave his brother a ball, or anything, and took it back again, he was called "an Indian giver." Mr. Hinman gives this experience: "If an Indian (not a Christian) gives, he expects soon to ask more in return. This is the selfish habit of all heathen, and when they have power, they often accompany their demands for gifts with threats of killing one's horse, etc., if their demands are not complied with. They seem to know nothing of disinterestedness, except among persons nearly related. An Indian will press you with his pipe one day, and the next, with a polite speech about not intending to ask pay for his pipe, which he treasured highly, intimates that he needs a blanket!

"One will offer to assist you to work for a day, and the next ask to borrow two dollars. They try to get you so indebted to them for favors, that you cannot decently refuse their requests. In all their speeches they try to prove to you that you are indebted to them." So one will ask as few favors of them as possible. He says, "I was surprised at the Yankton agency, to have some young men offer, without any pay, to cut all the timber and do all the work on a building for the council-room for the Mission. The change came sooner under their limited instruction than I had expected, and almost immediately the chief, 'Swan,' offered to cut logs and build a house for a chapel-school at his camp, opposite Fort Randall. The chief, Mad Bull, offered the same for the other end of the reservation, near Choctaw Creek.

"Among those heathens that have borne Christian fruits with the Santees, is 'Little Pheasant,' chief of the wild Brule Sioux, who came down to restore to the Yankton reservation some stolen horses, and promised Paul Mazakuta to take a list of his men desiring instruction. God is moving the hearts of these wild Indians in a wondrous way.

"At our Sunday evening service, over a hundred Yankton warriors and chiefs were present. I preached from the parable of the prodigal son. At the end of this passage, 'Though the elder brother be still jealous of the kindness and mercy shown to you, and thinks your people only fit to go down to the grave with the beasts that perish, yet God is good and just; and though long lost and wandering so many years, now found at last, He will lead you safely to his home.' Dulorio, a chief, said, 'Oh, my friends, this is where we all ought to cry Ko (yes) with a loud voice!' But the chief, 'Swan,' replied, 'True, true, Koda (friend); but men must not applaud in church. The words they give us ought to be laid up in our hearts.'

"To-day, twenty-two plows are started in the fields, and two in the prairies, to break an additional hundred acres for wheat. A little opposition is shown to dividing the land, but only a few Indians oppose. It is a great step, and one that many are prepared for; but it must be executed by a wise and good man. It is _the death-blow_ to heathenism, barbarism, and idleness, and therefore a medicine absolutely necessary to restore health and quicken life; but yet it must be administered by a brave and judicious physician. It is a revolution of habit and of manner of life to the Indian. And in Minnesota, the delay in perfecting it, and the lack of moral support given to those who took farms, caused, as much as anything, the outbreak of 1862, which was, in the beginning, a triumph of the hostile party over the working bands. Philip the deacon, Thomas Whipple, and Alexander Umbeclear, Indian catechists, and two Yankton head soldiers, who volunteered, are on their mission to the wild Sioux. As far as I know, there is a very general desire for schools; and God is surely opening the way for the building up of his kingdom."

RED CLOUD, SPOTTED TAIL, AND THEIR FRIENDS IN WASHINGTON.

History will point to the visit of these great chiefs of the Sioux tribes at Washington as the most important event in their lives, because it not only staved off a great war threatened on the plains, but most likely inaugurated a system of just and fair dealing for the time to come, that may prevent any more cruel and bloody wars with the Indians on our frontiers. Hence every incident that took place there is interesting; and as it is a costly expense to the government, it is likely to be discouraged in the future, and if boys have another chance to see some "big chiefs," they will have to go a great way, perhaps to Nebraska or Dakota, to have a good look at them.

The party belonging to Zin-tak-gah-lat-skah--Spotted Tail--left Minnesota before Red Cloud's from the Powder River country, and arrived first in Washington; but their interests were the same, so nothing was done until General Smith arrived with Red Cloud and reported to the Secretary of War. He then turned them over, as we say, to the Indian Bureau, which has a suite of offices, etc. in the Patent Office building in Washington. The Secretary of the Interior, who is a member of the cabinet, and General Parker (Chippewa chief), Indian Commissioner, received them as their charge during their stay in Washington. Before Red Cloud came, however, Spotted Tail had an interview with General Parker. He said:

"The government does not fulfill its treaty promises, and that supplies of goods promised and money owed for lands were not sent to them at the times agreed on, and that the white man, wherever he can find many buffaloes and gold, comes on the Indian's land and takes the Indian's ponies."

Colonel Parker told him of the many difficulties the Indian Bureau had to contend with in order to get moneys through Congress, and the great difficulties such a great government as ours had to go through in conducting all its affairs. But he gave his word to Spotted Tail that all the promises now made in the treaties would be fulfilled, and that they should get the provisions as soon as possible. He said that the Indians must not go to war among themselves, preying on other tribes, nor must they fight any more against the people of the United States, nor steal their cattle or horses.

Spotted Tail said, "He was glad that the Great Father was going to treat them right," but did not commit himself to any policy for the future. He was too good an Indian to make any professions in advance. Spotted Tail has of late years committed no offense except killing Big Mouth in a drunken brawl last winter.

The citizens of Washington have now and then seen Indian delegations at the Capitol. But these lusty fellows, such as Red Cloud, Swift Bear, and others, at once attracted attention.