Though my new masters, for such I considered them, held out promise of liberty and restoration to my friends, knowing the treacherous nature of the Indians, I doubted them. True, the Ogalallas had treated me at times with great harshness and cruelty, yet I had never suffered from any of them the slightest personal or unchaste insult. Let me bear testimony to this redeeming feature in their treatment of me.
At the time of my capture I became the exclusive property of Ottawa, the head chief, a man over seventy-five years of age, and partially blind, yet whose power over the band was absolute. Receiving a severe wound in a melee I have already given an account of, I was compelled to become his nurse or medicine woman; and my services as such were so appreciated, that harsh and cruel as he might be, it was dangerous for others to offer me insult or injury; and to this fact, doubtless, I owe my escape from a fate worse than death.
The Blackfeet are a band of the Sioux nation; consequently, are allies in battle. The chief dared not refuse on this account; besides, he was an invalid, and wounded badly.
The Blackfeet left three of their best horses as a guarantee for my safe return.
The chief of the Ogalallas had expressed the desire that, if the Great Spirit should summon him away, that I might be killed, in order to become his attendant to the spirit land.
It was now the commencement of November, and their way seemed to lead to the snowy regions, where the cold might prove unendurable.
When I heard the pledge given by the Blackfeet, my fears abated; hope sprang buoyant at the thought of again being within the reach of my own people, and I felt confident that, once in the fort, I could frustrate their plans by warning the officers of their intentions.
I knew what the courage and discipline of fort soldiers could accomplish, and so hoped, not only to thwart the savage treachery, but punish the instigators.
Mode of Indian Burial.