Bur. Am. Ethnology, Smithsonian Institution
Shoshone War Chief’s tepee, from a photograph taken in 1861. The tepee is made of buffalo skins, and is possibly the identical one in which the big council was held.
Washakie then said that he had told the Indians they might offer me the pony if I would come; but they were not to force me away from home. “So when he came,” the chief continued, “we gave the squaw who owned the pinto four colts for him. I gave her a yearling, mother gave two others, and Morogonai gave one. We never told the boy that he could have the pony; but we all understood that it belonged to him. Afterwards I gave him another horse for breaking some colts for me.”
The War Chief asked me whether I would rather live with the white people or the Indians. I told him I would sooner live with the Indians. With that the council broke up and the Indians went to their various tepees.
“What does all this mean?” I asked Washakie.
“You will know in the morning,” he replied.
“If they intend to take my pony away,” I said, “I will skip out in the night.”
“They are not going to do that,” said my mother; “whenever you go, that horse goes with you.”
We all went to bed that night wondering what would happen next day. It was a long night for me, for I did not sleep much.
Morning came at last, and after breakfast the War Chief with several other Indians came to our tepee. With them were the Pocatello Indians. When they were all inside the tepee, Washakie told me that these Indians had been down to the place where my people lived; that my father said I had been stolen by the Indians; that he was raising a big army to come and get me; and that he was going to kill every Indian he could find. Washakie asked me what I thought about it. I told him that it was not so.