VIII
THE MAKING OF A HOSTILE
Meanwhile a personal animus had sprung up against that general becauseof a mild stroke of justice on his part against a singularly proud man.
It seems that the personnel of Custer's former expedition to theYellowstone included two civilians, a Dr. Honzinger and a Mr. Baliran.These men were not, of course, subject to the full rigor of militarydiscipline, and so were accustomed to depart from, and return to, themain line of march at will. When they did not reappear in due timefrom one of these little trips, search was made; and they were foundkilled with arrows. Dr. Honzinger's skull was crushed in, but neitherman was scalped, for the doctor was bald and the other wore his hairclipped short. Some time later, knowledge of the murderer's identitycame to light, through information stumbled upon by one of Custer's ownscouts.
At that period, rations and ammunition were distributed regularly atthe various agencies. In return the savages promised to be goodIndians and to submit to the white men's laws. This promise they keptfaithfully enough, but according to their own standards. At the timesof distribution, when inevitably a great many of the Indians weregathered together, the occasion was signalized by feasting and ghostdances. The latter are uncouth exhibitions enough, consistingdecoratively of much cheap body-paint, many eagle feathers, and trashyjewelry; musically of most unmusical pounding and screaming; andphysically of a crouching posture and a solemnly bounding progressionfrom one foot to the other around a circle. They are accompanied by arecital of valorous deeds.
Such a dance was organized at the Standing Rock Agency, below FortLincoln, in the winter of 1875. As usual, besides the gathering of oldwarriors and squaws, assembled to watch the dance, the audienceincluded a number of white men, present on business or pleasure. Amongthem was Charley Reynolds, one of Custer's scouts. This man stoodexchanging idle comment and chaff with another scout, and throwing anoccasional glance in the direction of the vortex of dancers, swirlingabout in gaudy confusion, like a whirlwind of autumn leaves. Suddenlyhe closed his mouth with a snap and leaned forward at keen attention.He had caught a few words that interested him.
The dancers had reached the point of frenzy. They leaped forward withsolemnity still, but it was a quivering solemnity held in leash. Theirbodies were tense, and the trailing knives and hatchets trembled withnervous force. Each warrior, nostrils distended and eyes flashing, wasdeclaiming his deeds with an ecstasy that bordered on madness, rollingout tale after tale of murder, theft of horses--the only sort of theftcountenanced by the Indian code--and fortitude under suffering.Noticeable among these dancers was a young warrior painted in themanner of the Uncpapa Sioux. He was of magnificent physique andstriking countenance, but the most remarkable feature of his appearancewas a huge, ragged scar across the muscles of his back. When the scoutlooked toward him, he was shaking in the air the chain of a watch, anddeclaiming at the top of his voice in the Sioux language.
"And he was great in body," he chanted, "and he fell, and I killed himwith a stone, and the other fled, and I shot him, and so they died! Ikilled them! I am a great warrior, for I killed two white men, andthese things are tokens that I speak the truth!"
He rattled the chain, and went through a vivid pantomime of the slayingof the two white men. Charley Reynolds recognized the trinket asbelonging to Dr. Honzinger.
The young warrior was called Rain-in-the-Face, and he was at that timeesteemed as the bravest of the northern Sioux. Others, such as CrazyHorse or Sitting Bull, might have been greater in generalship, butneither had the Uncpapa youth's reputation for sheer personal bravery.In the sun dance he had hung for four hours. The incisions behind thegreat muscles of the back, through which the rope was threaded, hadbeen cut too deep, and the flesh failed to give way whenRain-in-the-Face was suspended. For some time he hung in midair, hiswhole weight depending from the loops of torn muscles, the bloodstreaming over his limbs, and the hot sun beating down upon him. Thenthe chiefs attempted to cut him down, but Rain-in-the-Face refused topermit it. Four hours later the flesh rent away from his bones, and hefell. That day made him the idol of the Sioux nation.
Charley Reynolds lost no time in informing Custer of his discovery, forthe policy of the period was to punish as many culprits as possible, inorder that the whites might establish, as soon as might be, a moral aswell as military supremacy over the turbulent savages. The commanderresolved to arrest Rain-in-the-Face. To that end he detailed a hundredmen under Captain Yates.
Contrary to what one unused to the Indian character might expect, nodifficulty was anticipated in finding the culprit. To be sure, theplains were broad and the hiding places many, but Rain-in-the-Face wasat once an agency Indian and a reckless man. He drew his rations andhe drew them boldly. With his blanket wrapped about him and his riflepeeping from its folds across his left arm, he stalked here and thereamong the agency's few buildings. Any distribution day at thereservation would discover him there.
But, on the other hand, the captain was not at all sure of being ableto arrest him when found. A hundred men would stand but small chancein a fight with six hundred well-armed savages; whereas the appearanceof a larger expedition would serve merely to frighten every agencyIndian out into the wilds. The situation was not encouraging. How notto alarm the quarry, and how still to possess strength enough to seizeit, was the problem that confronted Captain Yates.
His first move may seem, when cursorily examined, most unwise. Hedetailed a lieutenant and forty of his little command, whose orderswere to proceed farther down the river, ostensibly for the purpose ofmaking inquiries concerning three Osage Indians wanted for murder.Thus his available force was reduced to sixty, and with that handful heintended to capture and take away, in the face of ten times the number,one of the most popular fighting men of the Sioux nation.
But, as a matter of fact, in so dividing his forces the captain wascorrect in his tactics. He realized that surprise was his onlyeffective weapon, and his ruse made surprise certain by lulling anysuspicion as to the object of the expedition.
Arrived at the agency, a cursory examination disclosed the fact thatRain-in-the-Face was not among the groups of Indians camped on theprairie. He must, therefore, be inside the agency building itself.Captain Yates distributed his men near the little structure, andColonel Tom Custer went inside with half a dozen soldiers.
The room was found to be full of blanketed Sioux warriors, muffled tothe eyes, indistinguishable in the half light, except aseagle-feathered silhouettes. Greetings were exchanged, pipes filled,and a grave silence fell on the little group. The minutes passed, butno one moved. The atmosphere was dense with smoke, and still theparties watched each other--the whites with veiled eagerness, theIndians with unsuspicious stolidity. Finally the agent piled dry woodon the fire, and the blaze leaped up the chimney. The heat becameoppressive, so after a moment the warrior nearest the fireplace threwback the blanket from his shoulders. It was Rain-in-the-Face himself.
On this rather dramatic disclosure, one of the troopers uttered anexclamation. The Indian, always suspicious, at once leaped back andcocked his rifle; but before he could raise the piece or pull thetrigger, Colonel Custer wound his arms around him from behind. Theother Indians rushed from the room.
The captive's hands were tied as rapidly as possible, but by the timehe was brought to the door, the Indians were running angrily from alldirections toward the building.
Captain Yates had succeeded in intimidating the first comers by a showof force, but he was soon outnumbered and a struggle seemed imminent.
However, an old chieftain began to declaim in the violent, high-pitchedmonotone so much affected by Indian orators. This delay afforded thesoldier a much needed respite, but it tended also to concerted actionlater. The white man seized his opportunity. Through the interpreterhe called upon the chiefs to stand forward for a parley.
"My brothers will hear me," said the interpreter for him, "because itis right, for they wear the Great Father's
blankets and his food is intheir bellies. This young warrior is brave and his enemies are as thefeeble wind to him. But his eye became blinded. He thought he sawbefore him the Pawnees, the enemies of his people; but they were oldmen of my race. He killed those old men, and now the Great Fatherwould know why. He must tell the Great Father of his blindness.Therefore it is well that he should go.
"So restrain your young men and I will restrain mine. It might be thatyour young men would kill many of mine; and it might be that my youngmen would kill many of yours. But why kill them? It is useless, forfirst of all, by my hand, this young warrior would die."
At the advance of the chiefs, the Sioux warriors had suddenly, from thewildest confusion, calmed to the deepest attention. They stoodmotionless against the white background of the snow, only their fierceeyes rolling from the speaker to their own chiefs and back again. Oneof the latter replied--
"It is not well to talk so," he said brusquely. "The words of mybrother are idle words and mean nothing. My young men are many, andyours are few; yet shall your young men go unharmed if you give to usour warrior."
He swept his blanket over his shoulder with a sudden gesture, andscowled. For answer Captain Yates drew from its holster his armyrevolver and presented it at Rain-in-the-Face's breast. The Siouxlooked far away beyond the horizon, but his nostrils dilated.
"It is well," said the chief hastily, "for my brother's words are wordsof wisdom. Take _two_ warriors to the Great Father, but leave us thisyoung man, that he may teach us that blindness is not wise."
In answer to his gesture two Indian youths stepped forward, proud ofthe distinction.
"See," went on the chief, "these shall go with your young men, and allwill be well."
Yates lowered his pistol, and turned.
"Tell him," he said to the interpreter, "that this man goes with us.If I see the muzzle of a rifle, I'll shoot him dead."
The savages listened gravely. Their first burst of rage had passed,and, as always with their race, they were loath to engage in a stand-upfight in cold blood. The Indian is brave enough, but he likes to bebrave in his own way. The chief turned and waved his hand. Tenminutes later bands of savages were speeding swiftly away in alldirections, and the agency was entirely deserted.
The little command shortly after set out on its return trip. Yatesfully expected to be attacked before he rejoined his chief; butalthough many savages were at various times visible, hurrying by, thetroops arrived at Fort Lincoln in due course, and Custer stood face toface with his future slayer.
There is little need to repeat here the details of Rain-in-the-Face'scaptivity. It is interesting, but not of the story. He receivedvisits from great warriors representing various tribes of the Siouxnation--Brule, Yankton, Teton, Ogallala--all uniting to honor him. Tothe surprise of the few white spectators, these visitors kissed theyoung captive on the cheek, a mark of respect and affection almostunheard of among this savage people. Two of the younger warriors askedand received permission to share his captivity for a time.Rain-in-the-Face bore the imprisonment well; was docile, friendly,apparently happy. He had many talks with General Custer, and came tobe well liked.
But he had much leisure for thought, and he was a proud man.
After some months, two white men, grain thieves, were placed in thesame guard house. Being enterprising pioneers, they promptly sawed ahole and escaped. Rain-in-the-Face availed himself of the opening.
Once under the open sky, he adjusted his moccasins and struck boldlyacross the prairie for the West. Rain-in-the-Face was no longer anagency Indian, but a hostile.
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