Red Cloud, the Solitary Sioux: A Story of the Great Prairie

by Sir William Francis Butler

“In seven days,” he said, “the Sioux would be given a chance of his life. He would have his own horse again, and his freedom would then rest with himself. He would be given a clear start of three bow-shots’ distance. His enemies, the Sircies might catch him if they were able. For four days Penoquam would say nothing to the tribe of this resolve, but on the fifth day he would announce to them his decision.”

We went back to our tent and silently thought over this proposal. It had many things to recommend it, so far as the chances of ultimate safety were concerned. It is true the horse of the Sioux was yet unused to trial of speed after the winter’s snow, but those of the Sircies were no better prepared, perhaps not so well. But on the other hand, the proud heart of my friend revolted at the idea of having to fly before his enemies. So galling did this thought seem to him that he actually determined to refuse the chance offered to him, and to tell Penoquam that he was ready to die facing his foes, but not to fly with his back towards them.

I tried to dissuade him from this resolve, but all my efforts were useless, and I lay down to sleep that night with the gloomiest forebodings of approaching evil.

It was yet early on the following morning when there arrived in the Sircie camp one whose presence soon caused a change in the resolution formed by the Sioux; it was the trader McDermott. What connexion this arrival could have with the determination of Red Cloud to accept the offer of Penoquam I could not discover, but that the presence of the trader was the cause of this acceptance I could not doubt; indeed it was easy to see that the resolution to decline the chance of flight was at once abandoned when the news of McDermott’s arrival was received.

So far things began to look brighter. I had such complete faith in my friend that I felt he could not fail unless the odds were altogether against him, and I knew that there could not be many horses on the plains whose speed would outmatch his. So the few days passed away, and at last came the morning that was to announce, to Blackfeet, Sircies, and trader alike, the judgment of Penoquam.

The announcement was received by the braves with much excitement. It promised them a spectacle that was dear to the red man’s heart; for the Sircies or the Sioux the majority cared little, but their interest in the race for life was keen. Three days had still to elapse before the race.

It was necessary that I should decide upon some line of movement for myself. If the Sioux escaped, I would still be a denizen of the camp. If he fell, I felt that I could not meet his enemies save as my own. And yet I could not bear the idea of leaving him to face alone this ordeal. True, I could be of no service to him; but that did not seem to lessen the horror of deserting him at such a time. It was on the evening of this day that he spoke his wishes to me,—

“I want you, my friend, to do me a great service. Penoquam has told me that I am to be set free on the east side of this camp. I will make for the east at first. If I find that I am not likely to be overtaken I will bend away to the north in the direction of our cache. You must go before me on that course. You have three spare horses besides the one you ride. Take these horses at nightfall to-morrow out of camp. Depart on your way to the north. Halt some little way to the east of north. When morning breaks choose some ground where you can remain safe during the day and night, and then on the forenoon of the second day from to-morrow look out to the south for me. If the Sircies follow me with fresh horses I may want your help then. If I should not come by the evening of that day, wait for me no longer, but endeavour to get to the cache as best you can, and tell them what has happened.”

The next day I made my preparations quietly for departure, and when evening came I quitted the camp. A son of Penoquam came to see me clear of the lodges. I had not dared to do more than silently press the hand of my friend. He sat in his tent composed and quiet, as though to-morrow was to bring to him the usual routine of prairie life. Once clear of the camp, I held on straight towards the north, steering by the pole star. I travelled without halting all night, and the first streak of dawn found me many miles from the Blackfeet camp. I turned off towards the light, and held on for some time longer. The sun was now drawing near the horizon. It was time to halt, I looked about for hollow ground in which to camp, and soon found it; then I hobbled the horses, spread out a robe, and lay down. But I could not sleep; the thought of what was so near at hand kept my mind on the stretch, and the confidence which I had before felt as to the result of the race for life, seemed now to vanish in swift-recurring fears of disaster to my friend. The dew lay wet upon the prairie. I pulled the short green grass, and bathed my feverish forehead in it; then I arose and began to ascend a ridge that lay to the southward of my camping-place. From the top I could see far over the prairie; dew-freshened and silent it spread around; not a sign of life was to be seen upon any side. Far away to the south, and somewhat to the east of where I was, a ridge stood out high over other elevations; there appeared to be on its summit something like a large boulder. I remembered, one day when strolling around the Blackfeet camp, having noticed a similar object far away to the north-east; it was the same hill. A thought now struck me; I might go in the night towards this hill, and at daylight gain its northern side. The camp would then be in view, and I would see something of what took place. I determined to do this as soon as darkness had come.

I descended the hill and lay down again on my robe. Still I could not rest. The trader McDermott seemed to haunt my mind; his presence in the camp filled me with vague apprehensions. I felt that he would strain every effort to destroy the man he held in so much dread, and who was now almost in his power. At last the day wore to an end. When it was quite dark I set out for the rock hill. I only took my own riding-horse; I carried a double rifle. I steered a course slightly east of south. When the night was about two-thirds over I stopped to wait for daylight. I was afraid lest in the darkness I should overshoot the rocky hill. When day broke I saw the rock still before me, but further off than I had expected. Keeping the hollow ground as well as I could, I went on. It was sunrise when I reached it. I then haltered my horse in a hollow on the north side of the ridge, and went up the hill on foot. The rock at the top proved to be a granite boulder, here stranded cycles ago from some iceberg fleet sailing south, when this ocean of grass had been a still vaster ocean of water. I did not then trouble myself much to think what it had been in the past; to me now it was everything I wanted—vantage-point, shelter, position.