THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL, COLONEL HENRY INMAN [well read books .txt] 📗
- Author: COLONEL HENRY INMAN
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Courteous To His White Guests, If At The Time His Tribe Were At All
Friendly With The Government; Nothing Was Too Good For Them.
He Always Laid Down A Carpet On The Floor Of His Lodge In the Post
Of Honour, On Which They Were To Sit. He Had Large Boards, Twenty
Inches Wide And Three Feet Long, Ornamented with Brass Tacks Driven
All Around The Edges, Which He Used for Tables. He Also Had A
French Horn, Which He Blew Vigorously When Meals Were Ready.
His Friendship Was Only Dissembling. During all The Time That
General Sheridan Was Making His Preparations For His Intended winter
Campaign Against The Allied plains Tribes, Satanta Made Frequent
Visits To The Military Posts, Ostensibly To Show The Officers That
He Was Heartily For Peace, But Really To Inform Himself Of What Was
Going On.
At That Time I Was Stationed at Fort Harker, On The Smoky Hill.
One Evening, General Sheridan, Who Was My Guest, Was Sitting On The
Verandah Of My Quarters, Smoking and Chatting With Me And Some Other
Officers Who Had Come To Pay Him Their Respects, When One Of My Men
Rode Up And Quietly Informed me That Satanta Had Just Driven His
Ambulance Into The Fort, And Was Getting Ready To Camp Near The Mule
Corral. On Receiving This Information, I Turned to The General And
Suggested the Propriety Of Either Killing Or Capturing The Inveterate
Demon. Personally I Believed it Would Be Right To Get Rid Of Such
A Character, And I Had Men Under My Command Who Would Have Been
Delighted to Execute An Order To That Effect.
Sheridan Smiled when I Told Him Of Satanta'S Presence And The
Excellent Chance To Get Rid Of Him. But He Said: "That Would
Never Do; The Sentimentalists In the Eastern States Would Raise
Such A Howl That The Whole Country Would Be Horrified!"
Of Course, In these "Piping Times Of Peace" The Reader, In the Quiet
Of His Own Room, Will Think That My Suggestion Was Brutal, And Without
Any Palliation; My Excuse, However, May Be Found In general
Washington'S Own Motto: Exitus Acta Probat. If The Suggestion Had
Been Acted upon, Many An Innocent Man And Woman Would Have Escaped
Torture, And Many A Maiden A Captivity Worse Than Death.
As A Specimen Of Satanta'S Oratory, I Offer The Following, To Show
The Hypocrisy Of The Subtle Old Villain, And His Power Over The Minds
Of Too Sensitive Auditors. Once Congress Sent Out To The Central
Plains A Commission From Washington To Inquire Into The Causes Of
The Continual Warfare Raging With The Savages On The Kansas Border;
To Learn What The Grievances Of The Indians Were; And To Find Some
Remedy For The Wholesale Slaughter Of Men, Women, And Children Along
The Line Of The Old Trail.
Satanta Was Sent For By The Commission As The Leading Spirit Of The
Formidable Kiowa Nation. When He Entered the Building at Fort Dodge
In Which Daily Sessions Were Held, He Was Told By The President To
Speak His Mind Without Any Reservation; To Withhold Nothing, But To
Truthfully Relate What His Tribe Had To Complain Of On The Part Of
The Whites. The Old Rascal Grew Very Pathetic As He Warmed up To
His Subject. He Declared that He Had No Desire To Kill The White
Settlers Or Emigrants Crossing The Plains, But That Those Who Came
And Lived on The Land Of His Tribe Ruthlessly Slaughtered the Buffalo,
Allowing Their Carcasses To Rot On The Prairie; Killing Them Merely
For The Amusement It Afforded them, While The Indian Only Killed
When Necessity Demanded. He Also Stated that The White Hunters
Set Out Fires, Destroying The Grass, And Causing The Tribe'S Horses
To Starve To Death As Well As The Buffalo; That They Cut Down And
Otherwise Destroyed the Timber On The Margins Of The Streams, Making
Large Fires Of It, While The Indian Was Satisfied to Cook His Food
With A Few Dry And Dead Limbs. "Only The Other Day," Said He,
"I Picked up A Little Switch On The Trail, And It Made My Heart Bleed
To Think That So Small A Green Branch, Ruthlessly Torn Out Of The
Ground And Thoughtlessly Destroyed by Some White Man, Would In time
Have Grown Into A Stately Tree For The Use And Benefit Of My Children
And Grandchildren."
After The Pow-Wow Had Ended, And Satanta Had Got A Few Drinks Of
Red liquor Into Him, His Real, Savage Nature Asserted itself, And
He Said To The Interpreter At The Settler'S Store: "Now Didn'T I
Give It To Those White Men Who Came From The Great Father? Didn'T I
Do It In fine Style? Why, I Drew Tears From Their Eyes! The Switch
I Saw On The Trail Made My Heart Glad Instead Of Sad; For I New There
Was A Tenderfoot Ahead Of Me, Because An Old Plainsman Or Hunter
Would Never Have Carried anything But A Good Quirt Or A Pair Of Spurs.
So I Said To My Warriors, 'Come On, Boys; We'Ve Got Him!' And When
We Came In sight, After We Had Followed him Closely On The Dead Run,
He Threw Away His Rifle And Held Tightly On To His Hat For Fear
He Should Lose It!"
Another Time When Satanta Had Remained at Fort Dodge For A Very Long
Period And Had Worn Out His Welcome, So That No One Would Give Him
Anything To Drink, He Went To The Quarters Of His Old Friend,
Bill Bennett, The Overland Stage Agent, And Begged him To Give Him
Some Liquor. Bill Was Mixing a Bottle Of Medicine To Drench A
Sick Mule. The Moment He Set The Bottle Down To Do Something Else,
Satanta Seized it Off The Ground And Drank Most Of The Liquid Before
Quitting. Of Course, It Made The Old Savage Dreadfully Sick As Well
As Angry. He Then Started for A Certain Officer'S Quarters And Again
Begged for Something To Cure Him Of The Effects Of The Former Dose;
The Officer Refused, But Satanta Persisted in his Importunities;
He Would Not Leave Without It. After A While, The Officer Went To
A Closet And Took A Swallow Of The Most Nauseating Medicine, Placing
The Bottle Back On Its Shelf. Satanta Watched his Chance, And,
As Soon As The Officer Left The Room, He Snatched the Bottle Out Of
The Closet And Drank Its Contents Without Stopping To Breathe.
It Was, Of Course, A Worse Dose Than The Horse-Medicine. The Next
Day, Very Early In the Morning, He Assembled a Number Of His Warriors,
Crossed the Arkansas, And Went South To His Village. Before Leaving,
However, He Burnt All Of The Government Contractor'S Hay On The Bank
Of The River Opposite The Post. He Then Continued on To Crooked creek,
Where He Murdered three Wood-Choppers, All Of Which, He Said Afterward,
He Did In revenge For The Attempt To Poison Him At Fort Dodge.
At The Comanche Agency, Where Several Of The Government Agents Were
Assembled to Have A Talk With Chiefs Of The Various Plains Tribes,
Satanta Said In his Address: "I Would Willingly Take Hold Of That Part
Of The White Man'S Road Which Is Represented by The Breech-Loading
Rifles; But I Don'T Like The Corn Rations--They Make My Teeth Hurt!"
Big Tree Was Another Kiowa Chief. He Was The Ally And Close Friend
Of Satanta, And One Of The Most Daring and Active Of His Warriors.
The Sagacity And Bravery Of These Two Savages Would Have Been A Credit
To That Of The Most Famous Warriors Of The Old French And Indian Wars.
Both Were At Last Taken, Tried, And Sent To The Texas Penitentiary
For Life. Satanta Was Eventually Pardoned; But Before He Was Made
Aware Of The Efforts That Were Being Taken For His Release,
He Attempted to Escape, And, In jumping From A Window, Fell And Broke
His Neck. His Pardon Arrived the Next Morning. Big Tree, Through
The Work Of The Sentimentalists Of Washington, Was Set Free And Sent
To The Kiowa Reservation--Near Fort Sill In the Indian Territory.
The Next Most Audacious And Terrible Scourge Of The Plains Was
"Ta-Ne-On-Koe" (Kicking Bird). He Was A Great Warrior Of The Kiowas,
And Was The Chief Actor In some Of The Bloodiest Raids On The Kansas
Frontier In the History Of Its Troublous Times.
One Of His Captures Was That Of A Miss Morgan And Mrs. White.
They Were Finally Rescued from The Savages By General Custer, Under
The Following Circumstances: Custer, Who Was Advancing With His
Column Of Invincible Cavalrymen--The Famous Seventh United states--
In Search Of The Two Unfortunate Women, Had Arrived near The Head
Waters Of One Of The Tributaries Of The Washita, And, With Only
His Guide And Interpreter, Was Far In advance Of The Column, When,
On Reaching The Summit Of An Isolated bluff, They Suddenly Saw A
Village Of The Kiowas, Which Turned out To Be That Of Kicking Bird,
Whose Handsome Lodge Was Easily Distinguishable From The Rest.
Without Waiting For His Command, The General And His Guide Rode
Boldly To The Lodge Of The Great Chief, And Both Dismounted, Holding
Cocked revolvers In their Hands; Custer Presented his At Kicking
Bird'S Head. In the Meantime, Custer'S Column Of Troopers, Whom
The Kiowas Had Good Reason To Remember For Their Bravery In many
A Hard-Fought Battle, Came In full View Of The Astonished village.
This Threw The Startled savages Into The Utmost Consternation, But
The Warriors Were Held In check By Signs From Kicking Bird. As The
Cavalry Drew Nearer, General Custer Demanded the Immediate Release
Of The White Women. Their Presence In the Village Was At First
Denied by The Lying Chief, And Not Until He Had Been Led to The Limb
Of A Huge Cottonwood Tree Near The Lodge, With A Rope Around His Neck,
Did He Acknowledge That He Held The Women And Consent To Give Them Up.
This Well-Known Warrior, With A Foreknowledge Not Usually Found In the
Savage Mind, Seeing The Beginning Of The End Of Indian Sovereignty
On The Plains, Voluntarily Came In and Surrendered himself To The
Authorities, And Stayed on The Reservation Near Fort Sill.
In June, 1867, A Year Before The Breaking Out Of The Great Indian War
On The Central Plains, The Whole Tribe Of Kiowas, Led by Him,
Assembled at Fort Larned. He Was The Cynosure Of All Eyes, As He
Was Without Question One Of The Noblest-Looking Savages Ever Seen
On The Plains. On That Occasion He Wore The Full Uniform Of A
Major-General Of The United states Army. He Was As Correctly Moulded
As A Statue When On Horseback, And When Mounted on His Magnificent
Charger The Morning He Rode Out With General Hancock To Visit The
Immense Indian Camp A Few Miles Above The Fort On Pawnee Fork,
It Would Have Been A Difficult Task To Have Determined which Was
The Finer-Looking Man.
After Kicking Bird Had Abandoned his Wicked career, He Was Regarded
By Every Army Officer With Whom He Had A Personal Acquaintance As
A Remarkably Good Indian; For He Really Made The Most Strenuous
Efforts To Initiate His Tribe Into The Idea That It Was Best For It
To Follow The White Man'S Road. He Argued with Them That The Time
Was Very Near When There Would No Longer Be Any Region Where The
Indians Could Live As They Had Been Doing, Depending On The Buffalo
And Other Game For The Sustenance Of Their Families; They Must Adapt
Themselves To The Methods Of Their Conquerors.
In July, 1869, He Became Greatly Offended with The Government For
Its Enforced removal Of His Tribe From Its Natural And Hereditary
Hunting-Grounds Into The Reservation Allotted to It. At That Time
Many Of His Warriors, Together With The Comanches, Made A Raid On
The Defenceless Settlements Of The Northern Border Of Texas, In which
The Savages Were Disastrously Defeated, Losing a Large Number Of
Their Most Beloved warriors. On The Return Of The Unsuccessful
Expedition, A Great Council Was Held, Consisting Of All The Chiefs
And Head Men Of The Two Tribes Which Had Suffered so Terribly In
The Awful Fight, To Consider The Best Means Of Avenging The Loss
Of So Many Braves And Friends. Kicking Bird Was Summoned before
That Council And Condemned as A Coward; They Called him A Squaw,
Because He Had Refused to Go With The Warriors Of The Combined tribes
On The Raid Into Texas.
He Told A Friend Of Mine Some Time Afterward That He Had Intended
Never Again To Go Against The Whites; But The Emergency Of The Case,
And His Severe Condemnation By The Council, Demanded that He Should
Do Something To Re-Establish Himself In the Good Graces Of His Tribe.
He Then Made One Of The Most Destructive Raids Into Texas That Ever
Occurred in the History Of Its Border Warfare, Which Successfully
Restored him To The Respect Of His Warriors.
In That Raid Kicking Bird Carried off Vast Herds Of Horses
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