During my stay in Washington, Red Cloud, and a delegation of chiefs and head warriors from the different tribes of the Dakota or Sioux nation, arrived. They all recognized me as once having been with their people, and seemed quite rejoiced at the meeting.
Some of the good Christian people of the city extended to the Indians, through me, an invitation to attend church one Sabbath, which I made known to Red Cloud, telling him of the great organ, the fine music they would hear, and of the desire the good people had to benefit their souls.
Red Cloud replied with dignity that he did not have to go to the big house to talk to the Great Spirit; he could sit in his tipi or room, and the Great Spirit would listen. The Great Spirit was not where the big music was. No, he would not go.
None of the Indians accepted the invitation; but some of the squaws went, escorted to the church in elegant carriages; but they soon left in disgust. The dazzling display of fine dresses, the beautiful church, and the “big music”—none of these had interest for them, if unaccompanied by a feast.
I attended several of the councils held with the Indians. At one of them, Red Cloud addressed Secretary Cox and Commissioner Parker in a lengthy speech on the subject of his grievances, in which he referred to me as follows. Pointing me out to the Secretary and Commissioner, he said:
“Look at that woman; she was captured by Silver Horn’s party. I wish you to pay her what her captors owe her. I am a man true to what I say, and want to keep my promise. I speak for all my nation. The Indians robbed that lady there, and through your influence I want her to be paid out of the first money due us.” Placing his finger first upon the breast of the Secretary and then of the Commissioner, as if to add emphasis to what he was about to say, he added, “Pay her out of our money; do not give the money into any but her own hands; then the right one will get it.”
In one of my interviews with the chiefs, Red Cloud, Spotted Tail, and others desired me to get up a paper setting forth my claims against their people, and they would sign it. I accordingly made out a bill of items and presented it to them, with my affidavit, and a statement setting forth the circumstances of capture and robbery, which was fully explained to them by their interpreter.
This document the chiefs representing the different bands signed readily. It is inserted elsewhere, with other documents corroborative of the truth of this narrative. It is also signed by another delegation of chiefs I met in New York.
With this last interview with the delegation of Indians I met in New York ends, I trust forever, my experience with Indians. The preparation of the manuscript for this plain, simple narrative of facts in my experience, has not been without its pangs. It has seemed, while writing it, as if with the narration of each incident, I was living over again the fearful life I led while a captive; and often have I laid aside the pen to get rid of the feelings which possessed me. But my task is completed; and with the ending of this chapter, I hope to lay aside forever all regretful remembrances of my captivity, and, looking only at the silvery lining to be found in every cloud, enjoy the happiness which every one may find in child-like trust in Him who ordereth all things well.