Fig. 78—Sketch of the country where fight took place between Sitting Bull’s Indians and the government police, December 15, 1890.
The warmest praise is given the Indian police for their conduct on this occasion by those who are most competent to judge. Some who thus faced death in obedience to orders had near relatives among those opposed to them. Agent McLaughlin in one official letter says that he can not too strongly commend their splendid courage and ability in the action, and in another letter says: “The details of the battle show that the Indian police behaved nobly and exhibited the best of judgment and bravery, and a recognition by the government for their services on this occasion is richly deserved.... I respectfully urge that the Interior Department cooperate with the War Department in obtaining Congressional action which will secure to these brave survivors and to the families of the dead a full and generous reward.” Colonel Drum, under whose orders the arrest was made, after stating that Sitting Bull was not hurt until he began struggling to escape and until one of the police had been shot, adds: “It is also remarkable that no squaws or children were hurt. The police appear to have constantly warned the other Indians to keep away, until they were forced to fight in self-defense. It is hardly possible to praise their conduct too highly.” Notwithstanding the recommendation of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Congress has taken no action in recognition of their services on this occasion.
Before the action orders had been sent to the police to have with them a wagon, in order to convey Sitting Bull quickly away from the camp, so as to avoid trouble, but in the excitement of preparation this was overlooked. The police returned to the agency late in the afternoon, bringing with them their dead and wounded, together with two prisoners and the body of Sitting Bull, which was turned over to the military authorities at Fort Yates. The four dead policemen were buried at the agency next day with military honors. Bull Head and Shave Head died in the hospital soon afterward, with the consolation of having their friends around them in their last moments. The agent states that the large majority of the Indians were loyal to the government, and expressed satisfaction at what they considered the termination of the disturbance. Couriers were again sent after the fleeing Indians by McLaughlin, warning them to return to the agency, where they would be safe, or suffer the consequences if found outside the reservation. Within a few days nearly 250 had come in and surrendered, leaving only about one-third still out. Most of these soon afterward surrendered with Hump on Cherry creek, while the remainder, about 50, joined Big Foot or went on to Pine Ridge. ([G. D.], 36; [War], 8.)
Thus died Tata′nka I′yota′nke, Sitting Bull, the great medicine-man of the Sioux, on the morning of December 15, 1890, aged about 56 years. He belonged to the Uncpapa division of the Teton Sioux. Although a priest rather than a chief, he had gained a reputation in his early years by organizing and leading war parties, and became prominent by his participation in the battle of Little Bighorn, in Montana, on June 25, 1876, by which Custer’s command was wiped out of existence. Being pursued by General Terry, Sitting Bull and his band made their escape northward into Canada, where they remained until 1881, when he surrendered, through the mediation of the Canadian authorities, on a promise of pardon. To obtain subsistence while in Canada, his people had been obliged to sell almost all they possessed, including their firearms, so that they returned to their old homes in an impoverished condition. After confinement as a prisoner of war until 1883, Sitting Bull took up his residence on Grand river, where he remained until he met his death. Here he continued to be the leader of the opposition to civilization and the white man, and his camp became the rallying point for the dissatisfied conservative element that clung to the old order of things, and felt that innovation meant destruction to their race. For seven years he had steadily opposed the treaty by which the great Sioux reservation was at last broken up in 1889. After the treaty had been signed by the requisite number to make it a law, he was asked by a white man what the Indians thought about it. With a burst of passionate indignation he replied, “Indians! There are no Indians left now but me.” However misguided he may have been in thus continuing a losing fight against the inevitable, it is possible that from the Indian point of view he may have been their patriot as he was their high priest. He has been mercilessly denounced as a bad man and a liar; but there can be no doubt that he was honest in his hatred of the whites, and his breaking of the peace pipe, saying that he “wanted to fight and wanted to die,” showed that he was no coward. But he represented the past. His influence was incompatible with progress, and his death marks an era in the civilization of the Sioux. In the language of General Miles, “His tragic fate was but the ending of a tragic life. Since the days of Pontiac, Tecumseh, and Red Jacket no Indian has had the power of drawing to him so large a following of his race and molding and wielding it against the authority of the United States, or of inspiring it with greater animosity against the white race and civilization.” ([War], 9.)
On December 18 the Indians who had already fled to the Bad Lands attacked a small party of men on Spring creek of Cheyenne river. Major Tupper with 100 men of Carr’s division was sent to their rescue, and a skirmish ensued with the Indians, who were concealed in the bushes along the creek. The government wagons, while crossing the creek, were also attacked by the hostiles, who were finally driven off by reinforcements of cavalry under Captain Wells. On the same date over a thousand Indians returned to Pine Ridge. News was received that there were still about 1,500 fugitives camped on Cheyenne river in the neighborhood of Spring creek. ([Colby], 1.)
The most dangerous leader of dissatisfaction in the north after the death of Sitting Bull was considered to be Hump, on Cheyenne River reservation. The agent in charge had long before recommended his removal, but it was thought that it would now be next to impossible to arrest him. Hump with his band of about 400 persons, and Big Foot with nearly as many, had their camps about the junction of Cherry creek and Cheyenne river. For several weeks they had been dancing almost constantly, and were very sullen and apparently very hostile. After serious consideration of the matter, the task of securing Hump was assigned to Captain E. P. Ewers of the Fifth infantry, who had had charge of this chief and his band for seven years and had their full confidence and respect. He was then on duty in Texas, but was ordered forward and reported soon after at Fort Bennett on the border of the reservation. So dangerous was Hump considered to be that the civil agents did not think it possible even for the officer to communicate with him. However, Captain Ewers, without troops and attended only by Lieutenant Hale, at once left the fort and rode out 60 miles to Hump’s camp. “Hump at the time was 20 miles away and a runner was sent for him. Immediately upon hearing that Captain Ewers was in the vicinity he came to him and was told that the division commander desired him to take his people away from the hostiles and bring them to the nearest military post. He replied that if General Miles sent for him, he would do whatever he desired. He immediately brought his people into Fort Bennett and complied with all the orders and instructions given him, and subsequently rendered valuable service for peace. Thus an element regarded as among the most dangerous was removed.” After coming into the fort, Hump enlisted as a scout under Captain Ewers, and soon afterward, in connection with the same Lieutenant Hale, proved his loyalty by bringing about the surrender of the Sitting Bull fugitives. Subsequently Captain Ewers further distinguished himself by conducting the northern Cheyenne—who were considered as particularly dangerous, but who regarded Captain Ewers with absolute affection—from Pine Ridge to Tongue river, Montana, a distance of 300 miles, and in the most rigorous of the winter season, without an escort of troops and without the loss of a single life or the commission by an Indian of a single unlawful act. ([War], 10.)
The Sitting Bull fugitives who had not come in at once had fled southward toward their friends and near relatives of Cheyenne River reservation, and were camped on Cherry creek a few miles above its junction with Cheyenne river at Cheyenne City. As their presence there could serve only to increase the unrest among the other Indians in that vicinity, and as there was great danger that they might attempt to join those already in the Bad Lands, Captain Hurst, of the Twelfth infantry, commanding at Fort Bennett, directed Lieutenant H. E. Hale on December 18 to go out and bring them in. On arriving at Cheyenne City the officer found it deserted, all the citizens excepting one man having fled in alarm a short time before on the report of a half-blood that the Sitting Bull Indians were coming and had sworn to kill the first white man they met. Having succeeded in frightening the whole population, the half-blood himself, Narcisse Narcelle, left at once for the fort.
After some difficulty in finding anyone to assist him, Hale sent a policeman to bring back Narcelle and sent out another Indian to learn the situation and condition of the Indian camp. His only interpreter for the purpose was Mr Angell, the single white man who had remained, and who had learned some of the Sioux language during his residence among them. While thus waiting, a report came that the Indians had raided a ranch about 10 miles up the creek. Not hearing from his scouts, the lieutenant determined to go alone and find the camp, and was just about to start, when Hump, the late dangerous hostile, but now an enlisted scout, rode in with the news that the Sitting Bull Indians were approaching only a short distance away, and armed. Although from the reports there was every reason to believe that they had just destroyed a ranch and were now coming to attack the town, the officer, with rare bravery, kept his determination to go out and meet them, even without an interpreter, in the hope of preventing their hostile purpose. Hump volunteered to go with him. The two rode out together and soon came up with the Indians, who received them in a friendly manner. There were 46 warriors in the party, besides women and children, wagons and ponies. Says the officer: “I appreciated the importance of the situation, but was absolutely powerless to communicate with the Indians. I immediately formed the opinion that they could be easily persuaded to come into the agency if I could but talk with them. While I was trying by signs to make them understand what I wanted, Henry Angell rode into the circle and took his place at my side. This generous man had not liked the idea of my going among these Indians, and from a true spirit of chivalry had ridden over to ‘see it out.’” Verily, while such men as Ewers, Hale, and Angell live, the day of chivalry is not gone by.
With Angell’s assistance as interpreter, the officer told the Indians that if they would stay where they were for one day, he would go back to the agency and return within that time with the chief (Captain J. H. Hurst) and an interpreter and no soldiers. They replied that they would not move, and, having directed Angell to kill a beef for them, as they were worn-out and well-nigh starving, and leaving Hump with them to reassure them, the lieutenant rode back to Fort Bennett, 40 miles away, notified Captain Hurst, and returned with him, Sergeant Gallagher, and two Indian scouts as interpreters, the next day. Knowing the importance of haste, they started out on this winter ride of 40 miles without blankets or rations.