JACK RED CLOUD
Son of the War Chief of all the Sioux. Pine Ridge, 1909. Photographed by W. K. Moorehead. The older Indians say Jack looks exactly as did his father in the early seventies.
CHAPTER XVIII. RED CLOUD’S LATER YEARS
It is no secret that Red Cloud’s ponies were looked upon as legitimate prey by the Whites living near the reservation. One man told me he had seen a bunch of cattle driven around the beef corral twice in order to figure in a double count, and corn and provisions had been passed twice through a certain building in order that some one might make just 100 per cent off the Indians. During the early ’70’s horse-stealing was carried on to a surprising extent, and Indian ponies were openly sold in frontier towns. A deputy United States marshal, who had twenty years’ experience on the reservation of the Sioux, told me that some detectives and trailers employed by the Government were in league with the thieves and received two compensations—one from the Government and the other from their confederates. Stolen stock was seldom recovered. The warriors, becoming desperate, would steal stock from some ranchman in retaliation. Another method of getting even was to complain to the officers at Fort Robinson, who would give the Sioux an escort of troops. Along the trail of the robbers the combined forces traveled as rapidly as possible, and, upon reaching any ranch or town where ponies were assembled in large numbers, the warriors would claim, and apparently identify as their property, a number of horses. Protests on the part of the Whites were of no avail, and the triumphant party would return with some of the stolen stock, and, perhaps, some which had never been on their pastures. I asked an old Indian about this and he said it seldom happened, but as they lost thousands of horses which were never recovered, and as nearly all white men living near the reservation were there to rob the Indians, and as every white man (whether he had or had not Sioux ponies on hand) would deny knowledge of the location of stolen stock, he thought it was fair and just to seize everything in sight!
In spite of suffering, privation and thefts of every description, the Red Cloud tribe kept their faith. Would that white men had been as faithful to their treaty promises. They complained to the Great Father that they had been moved eight times since 1863. Exclaimed Red Cloud: “How can you expect us to take the white man’s road when you move us before we have time to plant and grow corn, to clear the ground and raise cattle?” In 1874 the Red Cloud and Spotted Tail reservations were in Western Nebraska, the nearest railroad point being Sidney, on the Union Pacific. Except in spots the land was barren—absolutely worthless. Red Cloud said that the Whites gave it to his people because they could not use it themselves. A delegation of Indians went to Washington, were talked to in the usual patronizing manner, flattered, promised, and returned to their agency. Some one suggested to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs to remove the Indians to the Missouri River, where some good soil assured corn and wheat. Red Cloud and Spotted Tail begged that they be not sent there, for whisky was brought up the river and sold to their young men, to the injury of the entire tribe. Being assured that their supplies had all been sent to the old Ponca reservation, they consented to go there provided they would be sent to a new reservation in the spring.
THE HIDE HUNTER’S WORK. 40,000 BUFFALO HIDES AT DODGE CITY, KANSAS, 1876
Drawn from a print owned by R. M. Wright.
I can best describe what ensued by use of Mrs. Helen Hunt Jackson’s words:[[31]] “In the spring no orders came for the removal. March passed, April passed—no orders. The chiefs sent word to their friend, General Crook, who replied to them with messages sent by swift runner, begging them not to break away, but to wait a little longer. Finally, in May, the Commissioner of Indian Affairs went himself to hold a council with them. When he rose to speak, Chief Spotted Tail sprang up, walked toward him, waving in his hand the paper containing the promise of the Government to return them to White Clay creek, and exclaimed: ‘All the men who come from Washington are liars, and the bald-headed ones are the worst of all! I don’t want to hear one word from you—you are a bald-headed old liar! You have but one thing to do here, and that is to give an order for us to return to White Clay Creek. Here are your written words, and if you don’t give this order, and everything here is not on wheels inside of ten days, I’ll order my young men to tear down and burn everything in this part of the country! I don’t want to hear anything more from you, and I’ve got nothing more to say to you,’ and he turned his back on the Commissioner and walked away. Such language would not have been borne from unarmed and helpless Indians; but when it came from a chief with 4000 armed warriors at his back, it was another affair altogether. The order was written. In less than ten days everything was ‘on wheels’ and the whole body of these Sioux on the move to the country they had indicated, and the Secretary of the Interior says, naively, in his report: ‘The Indians were found to be quite determined to move westward, and the promise of the Government in that respect was faithfully kept’.” It had been decided in council that Spotted Tail would do the talking, while Red Cloud and his followers held themselves in readiness for any emergency which might arise.
Crazy Horse as war chief, and Sitting Bull as the most prominent of the shamans, engage our attention during 1875–’76. A continual warfare was kept up against the Whites. Gold was discovered in the Black Hills, and settlers and miners flocked into the new territory, committing en route depredations against the Sioux. They promptly retaliated, and our Government sent General Custer to remove the miners from the new gold-fields, and history records that he successfully scattered the obnoxious invaders. During his famous march not one shot was fired at Indians. Red Cloud had kept his treaty promise, but peace was not long to be maintained. The frontier towns began to fill up with outcasts of civilization. Breeders of mischief, they instilled into the minds of the Oglalas love of gain. “You should have more money, more rations,” said they. “These lands to the north (Black Hills) are full of valuable mines which are yours. Drive out the miners and we will show you how to develop the country.” Custer had returned from his expedition and the miners flocked back to the gulches about Deadwood. Buffalo-hunters were fast destroying the great north and south herds, and Red Cloud beheld the encroachments with a heavy heart. The death-knell of his people’s freedom and prosperity on the Plains was sounded in the noise of the train, the blast in the mine, and the hum in the town. Civilization was advancing, savagery must die! He could not go to war himself, he must look after his people on the reservations; but he sent many of his best warriors to join Crazy Horse and American Horse. Murders and robberies followed in rapid succession. Custer was ordered to the Little Big Horn to destroy the villages of the hostiles.
As to the battle which followed, the Bureau of Ethnology Report, 1888–’89, gives a series of pictographic paintings made by Chief Red Horse, which are considered the most accurate we possess of the Sioux side of that unfortunate affair. I can only refer to it briefly. People digging wild turnips saw a cloud of dust in the distance. Supposing it to be made by a herd of buffalo, they informed the end of the village (scattered for three miles along the river) nearest them. Before any persons were armed a runner came up in great excitement and said, “Soldiers are coming.” There was no time to hold a council. The chiefs shouted their orders. At first it seemed as if the whites would take the whole village, but as warriors hastened up from the main body of the camp, the flanks as well as the front were attacked, and the troops forced across the river. Red Horse says there were two men with long yellow hair. One wore a buckskin coat.