indian heroes & great chieftains-第16章

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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　his　immediate　band　occupied　the　Grand　River　district

and　set　to　raising　cattle　and　horses。　　They　made　good　progress；

much　better；　in　fact；　than　that　of　the　〃coffee…coolers〃　or　〃loafer〃

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　cession　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　those　of　women　and　the　so…called　〃squaw…men〃；　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　land　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　had　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　fact；　there

was　no　thought　of　an　uprising；　the　dancing　was　innocent　enough；　and

pathetic　enough　their　despairing　hope　in　a　pitiful　Saviour　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

upon　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　unresisting　from　the　house；　but　when　he　came　out

in　the　gray　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　Assiniboine　captive　whose　life　he　had　saved　so　many

years　before；　was　the　first　to　fire。　　His　shot　killed　Lieutenant

Bull　Head；　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；　Crow　Foot；　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。









RAIN…IN…THE…FACE





The　noted　Sioux　warrior；　Rain…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　14；　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

seventy　years　ago。　　My　father　was　not　a　chief；　my　grandfather　was

not　a　chief；　but　a　good　hunter　and　a　feast…maker。　　On　my　mother's

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　sham　fights　on　such　occasions；　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　the　paint

had　been　washed　away。　　The　Sioux　boys　whooped　and　yelled：



〃'His　enemy　is　down；　and　his　face　is　spattered　as　if　with

rain！　　Rain…in…the…Face！　　His　name　shall　be　Rain…in…the…Face！'



〃Afterwards；　when　I　was　a　young　man；　we　went　on　a　warpath

against　the　Gros　Ventres。　　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