Tell General Howard that I know his heart. What he told me before I have in my heart. I am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed. Looking Glass is dead, Tu-hul-hul-sote is dead. The old men are all dead. It is the young men who now 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 and 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, my heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever.[214]
The Montana sun was going down; Hin-mut-too-yah-lat-kekht had spoken as its rays flickered.
The officers came forward and shook his hand. As he turned away, drawing his blanket over his head, the white soldiers discerned five bullet holes in his blanket and wounds on his forehead and wrist.
There was something about this leader that tugged at their heart strings as he beckoned his children toward their prison camp. There were four hundred and twelve survivors, including forty-six wounded. Twenty-six Indians and twenty-seven white men (plus Miles’ two Indian scouts) had been slain. Joseph’s conduct in burying the dead and in ministering to his half-starved and freezing people elicited the admiration of all. As the handsome, plucky chieftain assuaged their sorrow he seemed greater than any one man. Surely, here was the embodiment of the Nez Percé, indeed, of all Indian people. In his person were combined elements both noble and tragic. He was the last best specimen of a truly native race.
By nature Joseph was a modest man and inclined toward peace and good will. Events forced him into a role that has won eternal fame. Even General Sherman, who entertained no high sentiments for Indians, could not withhold his meed of praise:
Thus has terminated one of the most extraordinary Indian wars of which there is any record. The Indians throughout displayed a courage and skill that elicited universal praise; they abstained from scalping; let captive women go free; did not commit indiscriminate murders of peaceful families and fought with almost scientific skill, using advance and rear guards, skirmish lines and field fortifications.[215]
Other competent authorities have gone further. One ventured the asseveration that:
Had Joseph led thousands and had he been born of a people and in a place less remote from the main currents of history, his name would resound in our ears like thunder.[216]
As it is, the tale of the Nez Percé retreat, surrender, and burning years of their exile strike a mournful note upon the ears of men.
At Bear Paw a long “trail of tears” began for Joseph and his people. There was the solemn trek to Fort Keogh, thence to Bismarck, on to Fort Leavenworth, and finally to a small Oklahoma reserve. This was virtually a sentence of death for these mountain-bred people.[217] Miles could not make his promise good. Joseph was depressed by the increasing time and distance. Said he, “The Great Spirit Chief who rules above seemed to be looking some other way and did not see what was happening to my people.”