Buffalo Bill's Dead Now (A Wind River Mystery)

by Margaret Coel

  Father John pulled out a notepad and wrote: Herman Marks, interpreter. Fired by Buffalo Bill.

  He started another search, this time typing “Chief Black Heart, Wild West Show.” Web sites jumped onto the page. He scanned the list, then moved to the next page and clicked on the second site. A familiar photo: Chief Black Heart dressed in the red, white, and blue shirt and beaded vest, eagle-feathered headdress crowning his head. In another photo, the chief galloping through the sunshine, Indians galloping behind, clouds of dust bursting from the ground. The caption read: “The crowd cheers at the spectacle of Chief Black Heart leading Arapaho warriors into the Berlin arena, July 23, 1890.”

  He scrolled down until he came to another newspaper article with the headline: “Arapaho chief praises Buffalo Bill.” In the photo, Black Heart, dark shirt and bolo tie, as stern and solemn as the old Jesuits in the photos out in the corridor. The chief sat behind a table, hands clasped on the top. Father John read down the column of tiny type:

  In a hearing before the commissioner of Indian affairs yesterday, Arapaho Chief Black Heart, who had traveled with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West for eighteen months, said that Buffalo Bill had always treated the Show Indians fairly. “We were raised on horseback,” the chief said, referring to himself and other Show Indians. “That is the way we had to work. Buffalo Bill furnished us the same work we were raised to; that is the reason we want to work for him.” He said that Buffalo Bill also encouraged the Indian women to make beaded items and sell them to the visitors in the Indian camp. The money Indian families made, the chief said, was a big help when they returned to the reservations.

  Father John moved to a second article, published several days later, under the headline: “Show will go on!”

  After listening to the testimony of Chief Black Heart, who recently returned after performing in the Wild West, the commissioner of Indian affairs granted Colonel William F. Cody, known as Buffalo Bill, permission to continue taking Indians on tour with the show. The ruling ensures the Wild West will continue, despite the claim of reformers that the show encourages Indian savagery at a time when government agents on the reservations are trying to civilize the Indians.

  Father John sat back and stared at the lines of black type. When Black Heart testified before the commissioner, he didn’t know that his regalia had been hidden in a basement vault. Vaults meant safety, security, which was why Eldon had placed the stolen artifacts in the museum vault. But who had put the artifacts in the Berlin vault? Not Black Heart. The chief had grieved over the loss of his regalia. He had claimed his adopted son, Sonny Yellow Robe, kept the regalia safe and would bring it home when he came.

  Father John pulled the notepad over and ran a black line under the name Herman Marks. Dealer in Indian artifacts. A man who put pressure on Show Indians to sell precious belongings, most likely for pennies. And Sonny Yellow Robe, who protected Black Heart’s regalia.

  Hiding it in a vault that Marks had never found.

  Father John moved the cursor back to the search box. A hunch now. He typed in: “Unidentified human remains found in Berlin.” Dozens of Web sites came up. It was impossible. Two wars, the city nearly destroyed twice. Probably thousands of unidentified remains uncovered since 1890. It would take all day to read through the sites, and none of the remains might be that of an American Indian. And yet, he knew from researching an obscure fact in the days when he taught American history that the truth had its own way of filling in the spaces between the known facts, of reaching out and taking hold. The truth could not be shaken off.

  He pushed back from the desk, went down the corridor, and told the bishop he’d be out for a while. Someone he wanted to visit. The bishop had looked up from the book flattened in front of him and assured Father John that he would man the phones and greet the visitors.

  35

  CAM MERRYMAN WALKED out of the barn, rubbing an oil-spotted rag between his hands. He stopped, eyes narrowed against the bright morning sunshine, as Father John pulled in close to the fence. Then he started moving fast, one hand lifted in greeting. “Hey, Father,” he called.

  By the time Father John got out of the pickup, Cam was beside him. “Heard Black Heart’s stuff was found,” he said.

  “Eventually, it will be in the museum.” Father John slammed the door. The hard thump cut through the sound of the wind steering across the pasture, raising little dust balls on the driveway. The sun seared the back of his neck, and yet, the hint of cooler days was in the air. He explained how the artifacts would be held as evidence until after the trials for Eldon and the others. Then he said, “Your ancestor didn’t steal the artifacts.”

  Cam gave a resigned nod, as if he wished that were true.

  “I think he was killed trying to save them. That’s why he never came home. He would have returned had he been alive.”

  Cam seemed to consider this a moment before he said, “The Tallman clan has been saying he took off with the chief’s things and lived high in Europe.”

  “It was Sonny who hid them to keep them safe,” Father John said. “The past keeps its secrets, and we can’t always know the exact truth. But we can look at what we do know and figure out what must have happened.” He took a moment, marshaling his thoughts into a logical order. Then he explained how Buffalo Bill had fired a man named Herman Marks for pressuring Show Indians to sell their regalia. “The vault where Black Heart’s regalia was found was in the basement of an old building close to the Wild West arena. Black Heart always said that his adopted son had protected his regalia. I think Sonny hid it in the vault.”

  “Hid it for himself,” Cam said.

  Father John shook his head. “Herman Marks was after the regalia. I think he tried to get Sonny to tell him where it was and killed him when he wouldn’t talk. He probably buried his body somewhere in the area.”

  Moisture had started to pool and glisten in the Arapaho’s black eyes. He looked away and swiped at his cheeks a moment. Still staring across the pasture, he said, “All this time, the Tallman clan’s been accusing Sonny of stealing. Made it look like all his descendants was a no good bunch of thieves. I wanted to believe Sonny was a good man, but I guess I bought into what they kept saying.”

  “Black Heart believed he was good man,” Father John said.

  “You think the Tallman clan’s gonna buy this? It’s not like you got any evidence.”

  “There’s evidence,” Father John said. The evidence of logic, he was thinking. He told Cam about the museum in Geneva that had purchased regalia from Marks and, after learning how Marks had pressured the Show Indians, had decided to return the regalia to the Lakotas. “No doubt Marks could have sold Black Heart’s regalia for a lot of money. If Sonny had taken the regalia, he had a willing buyer in Herman Marks. But Sonny had died protecting it.”

  “You gonna try telling that to the Tallmans? The old man and Mickey?”

  “I’m going to do my best,” Father John said.

  THERE WAS A moment, at the end of the driveway, when Father John hesitated. He thought about turning right and driving to Lander. Vicky would be at the office, but maybe she’d have time for coffee and he could tell her what he’d learned on the internet. It wasn’t a new impulse, he realized. It was an excuse. In the side view mirror, he could see Cam watching, as if he wondered which turn Father John might take.

  He turned left and drove toward the Tallman’s house.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  While I have tried to paint an accurate portrait of the experience of Arapaho Show Indians in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West, I have taken liberties with a few historical facts. It is true that Black Heart traveled through England with the Wild West in 1887 and returned to the show as leader of about one hundred Arapahos for the European tour in 1889–90. And it is also true that, at that time, so-called “reformers” mounted a vigorous campaign with the Department of Interior and the commissioner of Indian affairs to prohibit Indians from performing in Western shows, such as the Wild West. In the reformers’
view, the Western shows glorified “savage” Indians at the very time reservations were trying to “civilize” them. Reformers also raised the red flag that Buffalo Bill mistreated the Indians, parading them around like monkeys. To the reformers, it was a far better thing to subject Indians to the poverty, hunger, joblessness, and depression on reservations than to allow them to enrich their lives through travel and exposure to other cultures, and to support their families with the much-needed money they earned.

  By mid-1890, it looked as if the reformers would win the day and the commissioner would forbid Indians to take part in any further tours of the Wild West, which, as Buffalo Bill knew, would mean the end of the Wild West. How could the West be portrayed without Indians? In November, Buffalo Bill brought the Indians home. Seventy-nine Indians traveled to Washington and met alone with acting commissioner Robert V. Belt. Through an interpreter, they spoke eloquently of the fair and generous treatment they had received and assured the commissioner they had never been mistreated in any way. They wanted to continue being part of the Wild West. Black Heart spoke passionately for the right of Indians to work at jobs they knew how to do, an opportunity that Buffalo Bill had given them.

  While Black Heart is a historical figure, Sonny Yellow Robe is a figment of my imagination. For the purposes of the story, I had Black Heart leave the show in July and go to Washington to speak to the commissioner. There is a photo that shows him in his beautiful regalia, which—unlike in the story—he brought home with him. Also, there is no evidence that Black Heart’s father had fought at the Battle of the Little Big Horn, but there is also no evidence to disprove the possibility.

  I am indebted to many people for guiding me through the intricacies of the world of the Wild West. Special thanks to Steve Friesen, director of the Buffalo Bill Museum and Grave atop Lookout Mountain in Golden, Colorado. Under Steve’s leadership, the museum was named the Western Museum of 2011 by True West magazine. It was in the museum’s archives, which Steve kindly made available, that I discovered Chief Black Heart and the role he played in speaking up for Buffalo Bill, the idea that grew into my story. Steve also took the time to advise me about various Wild West artifacts, and his excellent book, Buffalo Bill: Scout, Showman, Visionary, filled with beautiful photographs, was at my right hand while working on this story.

  Other books I found helpful are: The Lives and Legends of Buffalo Bill, Don Russell; Wild West Shows and the Images of American Indians, L.G. Moses; Buffalo Bill, Last of the Great Scouts, Helen Cody Wetmore; Four Years in Europe with Buffalo Bill, Charles Eldridge Griffin; Buffalo Bill’s Wild West, An American Legend, R.L. Wilson with Greg Martin.

  I’m also grateful to the Buffalo Bill Historical Center in Cody, Wyoming (itself worth a trip to Wyoming!) for the hours I spent touring the exhibits, lost in the magical world of Buffalo Bill and the Wild West.

  As for guiding me through the intricacies of federal criminal laws, I am again indebted to Todd Dawson, special agent, FBI, and to Ray Brown, special agent, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, Office of Law Enforcement, both of Lander, Wyoming.

  Thanks also to my keen-eyed friends who read the manuscript and suggested some excellent changes: Virginia Sutter and Jim Sutter, Wind River Reservation; Karen Gilleland; Carl Schneider; Beverly Carrigan; Sheila Carrigan; and my husband and first reader, George Coel. And to my always perceptive editor, Tom Colgan, and agent, Rich Henshaw.

  And a special thank you to Merle Haas for the gift of her story about her great-great-grandfather Chief Yellow Calf’s reluctance to travel across the “trackless” waters.

  My heartfelt thanks to them all.