Then began one of the most remarkable exhibitions of generalship in the history of our Indian wars, a retreat worthy to be remembered with that of the storied ten thousand. With hardly a hundred warriors, and impeded by more than 350 helpless women and children—with General Howard behind, with Colonel (General) Miles in front, and with Colonel Sturgis and the Crow scouts coming down upon his flank—Chief Joseph led his little band up the Clearwater and across the mountains into Montana, turning at Big Hole pass long enough to beat back his pursuers with a loss of 60 men; then on by devious mountain trails southeast into Yellowstone park, where he again turned on Howard and drove him back with additional loss of men and horses; then out of Wyoming and north into Montana again, hoping to find safety on Canadian soil, until intercepted in the neighborhood of the Yellowstone by Colonel Sturgis in front with fresh troops and a detachment of Crow scouts, with whom they sustained two more encounters, this time with heavy loss of men and horses to themselves; then again eluding their pursuers, this handful of starving and worn-out warriors, now reduced to scarcely fifty able men, carrying their wounded and their helpless families, crossed the Missouri and entered the Bearpaw mountains. But new enemies were on their trail, and at last, when within 50 miles of the land of refuge, Miles, with a fresh army, cut off their retreat by a decisive blow, capturing more than half their horses, killing a number of the band, including Joseph’s brother and the noted chief Looking Glass, and wounding 40 others. ([Comr.], 25.)
Forced either to surrender or to abandon the helpless wounded, the women, and children, Joseph chose to surrender to Colonel Miles, on October 5, 1877, after a masterly retreat of more than a thousand miles. He claimed that this was “a conditional surrender, with a distinct promise that he should go back to Idaho in the spring.” (Comr., 26.) The statement of General Howard’s aid-de-camp is explicit on this point:
It was promised Joseph that he would be taken to Tongue river and kept there till spring, and then be returned to Idaho. General Sheridan, ignoring the promises made on the battlefield, ostensibly on account of the difficulty of getting supplies there from Fort Buford, ordered the hostiles to Leavenworth, ... but different treatment was promised them when they held rifles in their hands. ([Sutherland], 1.)
Seven years passed before the promise was kept, and in the meantime the band had been reduced by disease and death in Indian Territory from about 450 to about 280.
This strong testimony to the high character of Joseph, and his people and the justice of their cause comes from the commissioner at the head of Indian affairs during and immediately after the outbreak:
I traveled with him in Kansas and the Indian Territory for nearly a week and found him to be one of the most gentlemanly and well-behaved Indians that I ever met. He is bright and intelligent, and is anxious for the welfare of his people.... The Nez Percés are very much superior to the Osages and Pawnees in the Indian Territory; they are even brighter than the Poncas, and care should be taken to place them where they will thrive.... It will be borne in mind that Joseph has never made a treaty with the United States, and that he has never surrendered to the government the lands he claimed to own in Idaho.... I had occasion in my last annual report to say that “Joseph and his followers have shown themselves to be brave men and skilled soldiers, who, with one exception, have observed the rules of civilized warfare, and have not mutilated their dead enemies.” These Indians were encroached upon by white settlers on soil they believed to be their own, and when these encroachments became intolerable they were compelled, in their own estimation, to take up arms. ([Comr.], 27a.)
In all our sad Indian history there is nothing to exceed in pathetic eloquence the surrender speech of the Nez Percé chief:
I am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed. Looking Glass is dead. Toohulhulsote is dead. The old men are all dead. It is the young men who say yes or no. He who led the young men is dead. It is cold and we have no blankets. The little children are freezing to death. My people, some of them, have run away to the hills and have no blankets, no food. No one knows where they are—perhaps freezing to death. I want to have time to look for my children and see how many of them I can find. Maybe I shall find them among the dead. Hear me, my chiefs. I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever. ([Sec. War], 3.)
Chapter VII
SMOHALLA AND HIS DOCTRINE
My young men shall never work. Men who work can not dream, and wisdom comes to us in dreams.... You ask me to plow the ground. Shall I take a knife and tear my mother’s bosom? You ask me to dig for stone. Shall I dig under her skin for her bones? You ask me to cut grass and make hay and sell it and be rich like white men. But how dare I cut off my mother’s hair?—Smohalla.