"The Indians appeared to be pretty short on meat supply during my stay in their camp, but the poor creatures had no more idea of the imminence of the famine which subsequently compelled their surrender, than so many children. The faithful squaws went out on the wooded bluffs and gathered all kinds of berries to make up for the lack of animal food. Yet it was the intense humanity of Major Walsh that absolutely kept the wretched people from eating their horses. I knew then that the reign of Sitting Bull would not be long in the land."
In the fall of 1880, E. H. Allison, the army scout, who was master of the Sioux language, was ordered by Gen. A. H. Terry to visit the camp of Sitting Bull and induce that leader and his band to surrender. Accordingly, the scout made preparation to start, by filling an army wagon with provisions and presents for the Indians. He now selected the four best mules in the camp to draw the wagon, and Private Day, a soldier, volunteered as teamster, dressed in citizen's clothes.
The scout and his companion started from Port Buford October 25, and reached the camp of Sitting Bull in due time. They found the Indians on the west bank of Frenchman's Creek, just where it joins Milk River, which is in the northern part of Montana.
"We reached the camp," said the scout, "about 3 p. m., when I was rather agreeably surprised and somewhat puzzled by receiving a pressing invitation, which could easily be construed into a command, to make my home at Sitting Bull's lodge, as long as I stayed in the camp. I accepted the invitation, but stipulated that Chief Gall should superintend the distribution of the provisions which I had brought them. [He thus satisfied both chiefs and their followers.] To this Sitting Bull readily acceded, and I was soon comfortably housed, together with the soldier, in the tepee of the great Indian priest and prophet. After an early supper, I sought and obtained a private interview with Chief Gall, who, knowing the object of my visit, informed me that he had resolved to effect the surrender of the entire band. Sitting Bull and all, but to accomplish this more time would be required than he had first anticipated. He must first go back to Canada, to enable Sitting Bull to keep an engagement to meet Major Walsh, of the Dominion forces, in a council, at the Woody Mountain Trading Post. And to insure success, and expedite matters, he advised that I should meet him again at Woody Mountain, as soon as possible, after reporting to Major Brotherton, at Fort Buford. Considering the circumstances, I deemed it best to acquiesce in his plans. Yet I was anxious to make some kind of a showing on this trip that would encourage Major Brotherton, and reward him for the confidence he had placed in me. I explained this to Chief Gail, who told me to remain in the camp two days, to rest my mules, and by that time he would have twenty families ready to send in with me; but he cautioned me not to let Silting Bull know their real purpose, but to lead him to suppose they were only going in to the agency on a visit to their friends.
"Perfectly satisfied with these arrangements, I returned a little after dark to Sitting Bull's lodge, where the soldier, who could not speak a word of the Indian language, was having a lonesome time, and growing somewhat anxious for my safety. We were both very tired and soon lay down to rest, while I engaged the old chief in conversation. Sitting Bull's family at that time consisted of his two wives (sisters), two daughters and three sons, the eldest being a daughter of seventeen, the other daughter being next, about fourteen, the eldest son, Crow Foot (since dead), seven years old, and the two youngest boys were twins, born about three weeks before the battle of the Little Big Horn, and were, therefore, not more than four and a half years old; one of the twins was named Ih-pe-ya-na-pa-pi, from the fact that his mother 'fled and abandoned him in the tepee,' at the time of the battle. The accompanying cut shows the arrangement of beds, etc., in the lodge, while we were there.
"I continued in conversation with the chief until about midnight, when I fell asleep. I must have been asleep less than an hour, when I was awakened by the sharp crack of a rifle ringing out on the still night air, and the simultaneous war-whoop of contending savages. The camp was instantly in a state of the wildest confusion. Indian women, seizing their babies, fled, screaming, they knew not whither, for safety; warriors suddenly awakened from their slumbers, seized their arms and flew with the speed of the wind to the aid of their comrades, who were already engaged in conflict with an enemy, whose presence could only be determined by the sharp report and flashes of fire from their guns, as they fired in the darkness upon the Sioux camp. Here was an opportunity for the soldier and myself to prove our friendship, by aiding the Sioux warriors in their defense of the camp, which we proceeded to do, by seizing our rifles and hastily joining the warriors, who, by this time, had turned the enemy, whose firing soon ceased altogether, and we all returned to the camp, where comparative quiet was restored; but no one slept any more that night. Our muscles were strained and our nervous systems were unstrung."
"The fact that myself and companion took part in the defense of the camp was favorably commented on by all, and in all probability saved our lives, for the Indians are very superstitious, and their blood was up; something was wrong; in fact, things had been going wrong for several days. There must be a 'Jonah' in the camp, and how easy it would be to find a pair of 'Jonahs' in the persons of two white men in camp; but our prompt action had made a most favorable impression, and diverted their thoughts from the subject of 'Jonahs,' and I improved the opportunity by comparing their uncertain, hunted existence with the happy life of their friends at the agencies in Dakota, whose wives and little ones were even then sleeping peacefully in their beds, without fear of being disturbed by prowling bands of Indian foes.
"A number of warriors followed cautiously after the retreating Blackfeet, but failed to come up with them. They returned to camp about ten in the morning, and reported finding blood-stained bandages on the trail, so there must have been some of the enemy wounded. Among the Sioux, no one was hurt, nor did they lose any horses on this occasion. But danger was yet lurking near. About two in the afternoon, a warrior came into camp and reported the discovery of a small herd of buffalo, about four miles from camp. About thirty warriors mounted their horses and went out to kill them; among the number was Scarlet Plume, a popular young brave, who was a favorite with every one. The warriors approached the buffalo under cover, till they were within easy rifle range, when they opened fire and killed all but one, which struck on across the plain, seemingly unhurt. Young Scarlet Plume alone gave chase, following the animal and finally killing it near the head of a ravine, running up from the Milk River, which at that point was densely studded with timber. He had killed his last buffalo. He was alone and more than a mile from his companions. A party of Blackfeet braves, concealed in the timber, had been watching his movements, and now, while he was busily engaged skinning the buffalo, they approached, under cover of the ravine, shot him, took his scalp and made good their escape. His body was found by his father. Old Scarlet Thunder, and was brought by him into camp, a little before sunset that evening. Then indeed there was weeping and wailing in that camp. Language utterly fails me when I try to describe the scene that followed. His old mother, his five sisters, and scores of friends and relatives, tore their hair, slashed their limbs with knives, till the ground where they stood was wet with hot human gore; they rent their garments, calling in a loud wailing voice upon the name of the lost son and brother.
"It was no time for negotiations. Not a time for anything, in fact, but silence and obscurity on my part; so, with my companion, I sought the seclusion of Sitting Bull's tepee, where we spent the night in fitful and unrefreshing slumber. Early in the morning, at the first faint dawn of day, I was awakened by a call from Chief Gall, whom I joined in a walk about the camp. He informed me that the twenty lodges he had promised me had silently taken their departure during the night, and that I would find them in the evening encamped about twenty miles down the Milk River. He said that five women and nine children belonging to the party, but who had no horses, had remained behind, and desired to ride in my wagon. He also informed me that Strong Hand would return with me to Poplar Creek. Accordingly, as soon as breakfast was over, we hitched up the mules, and were only too glad to get away from a place, where, to say the least, our experience had been very unpleasant. Strong Hand was returning afoot, and at his suggestion, I loaned him my horse, to enable him to traverse the river bottoms in quest of deer. The women and children climbed in the wagon with their meager effects, and we began moving out of the camp. Strong Hand riding just in advance of the mules, while I occupied a seat with the driver.