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Village, Too, He Assumed a Great Deal Of Style.  He Was Very

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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