I know that the Indians were a treacherous and revengeful people. They always demanded a life to pay for a life, and they would often do bloodthirsty things. But the whites were mostly to blame. If they had been fair with the Indians, and treated them kindly, instead of taking mean advantages of them, the Indians would have been kind and friendly. I cannot blame the Indians as much as some do. They were good friends to me, and most of them have peaceful hearts.
“The War Chief asked me some more questions.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN THE BIG COUNCIL
Our winter camp was a very beautiful place with plenty of game and an abundance of good dry wood. We had nearly everything that was needed to make us happy. My leg and all of the sick Indians got well, and we were getting along finely when one day some of Pocatello’s Indians came to our camp.
That night Washakie called a council of the tribe to meet in the War Chief’s tepee. I thought this strange, for he had always held his councils in our tepee. The next morning they held another council, so I thought I would go over and see what it was all about. But when I got to the door of the council tepee, I met an Indian who told me to run back, that they did not want me in there. This puzzled me, for I had never before been sent away from the councils.
When I got back to our tepee, mother and Hanabi were both crying. I knew then that something serious was up, but they would not tell me a word about it. I thought that Pocatello’s Indians wanted Washakie to help them in some bloody affair with the whites.
Things went on in this way for four days. The Indians kept on holding councils, but I could not learn what was the cause. I saw other squaws come to our tepee, but when I came near them, they would stop talking. This made me think that the trouble had something to do with me, and I worried a good deal about it.
On the fifth morning Washakie sent for me. I went and found about fifteen Indians at the council. The War Chief first asked me how old I was.
“About fourteen years,” I answered.