Part 12

AN INDIAN RAID ON SIDNEY STATION, UNION PACIFIC RAILROAD.

In the month of April, 1868, while returning from the East, we took dinner at Sidney Station, on the railroad, four hundred and fourteen miles west of Omaha, at noon. While we were there, two freight conductors brought in their trains and dined at the same time we did, and when we started they were on the platform and said good-by to us. They concluded to go out a fishing, a mile or two from the settlement, behind one of the bluffs. We had not left on our way to Cheyenne more than about an hour, when we learned by telegraph at "Antelope Station" (thirty-seven miles), that a band of twenty or thirty Sioux Indians had come suddenly upon the two conductors, named Cahoone and Kinney, and, after a severe conflict, had shot both through with arrows, and scalped one of them (Cahoone), besides killing some of the railroad hands at work repairing the road near by the scene of conflict. Presently we met a special train, consisting of engine and caboose-car, coming with tremendous speed,--one mile a minute,--containing Dr. Latham, surgeon of the railroad from Cheyenne. It seems that the soldiers--a small company--were completely surprised, and not being mounted, could only protect the station, but could not follow up the Indians to punish them for their audacity.

There were nearly two hundred and fifty people, including one hundred infantry soldiers, at the station; and the alarm of "Indians" being given, the whole population turned out with such arms as they could lay hold of. The sight of so many persons disconcerted the Indians, and they checked their horses within a respectable distance of the station. About two hundred shots were fired,--many of them in the wildest manner, and mostly hurting nobody.

The Indians rode round the upper side of Sidney--i.e. west--after the affray with the conductors, and attacked the section-men, circling round and round (as usual in their mode of Indian warfare, to draw out the fire of their enemies, till they exhaust their ammunition), till they had killed several of the poor Irishmen at work. These men had with them a hand-car, and the boss had a rifle with him, and only one charge or cartridge in his gun. He did the best he could, however, by jumping on the car and taking aim at his enemies, and keeping the gun pointed towards them, while the men worked the hand-car safe into Sidney Station. He escaped with his life, and several of his comrades.

These two conductors had about seven arrows shot into each of them, several going right through their bodies, and which had to be broken off to draw them out. One--Thomas Cahoone--was scalped twice, on the top and back of his head. The other--William Kinney--kept his captor at bay by a pistol he had, and thus aiming at the Indian, saved his hair. Both were brought up carefully in the caboose-car to Cheyenne, and next day I saw them under Dr. Latham's treatment. All thought that both would surely die, but both got well; and the one who was scalped is now living at a station on the Union Pacific Railroad. It is a terrible operation to be scalped, and few survive it. But, thanks to the surgeon's skill, these men are living, and feel very much like taking vengeance on their tormentors,--if they ever catch them!

WHY DO INDIANS SCALP THEIR ENEMIES?

I have been a good deal puzzled to know the origin of this custom, of always scalping a foe in battle, both among themselves and in fighting white people. A negro is never scalped by the Indians. In conversing with Major A. S. Burt, of 9th United States Infantry, at our post, who has had much experience among the Indians on the plains, I learn some things which give a clue to the matter, which agree with all I can hear. He says that each Indian wears a "scalp-lock" (see engraving), which is a long tuft of hair, into which the Indian inserts his medicine, which consists generally of a few quills of eagle's feathers. This "medicine" is simply a "charm," as we call it, gotten by purchase of the medicine-man of the tribe. The medicine-man is the most influential man in each tribe. He professes to be able to conjure, by his arts and influence with the Great Spirit, certain articles, which he sells to the Indians of his tribe. This "medicine" the superstitious believe will cure diseases, and help him against his enemy in battle. Hence, in scalping a fallen foe, the victor deprives him of his charm, and shows it in triumph, as a token of his skill in battle. If you visit an Indian in his tent, and ask him to show you his "medicine," he will do so, if you pay him in such things as he needs to make therewith a feast, both for himself and an offering to his medicine idol; but as the idol can't eat, it goes of course into the stomach of the live Indian!

The Indian keeps his "medicine" hung up in his tent, and prays to it,--dreams about it,--and if his dream is of good luck, he acts accordingly. This applies to hunting, going on war expeditions, etc.; in short, it is his sort of saint, to which he pays idolatrous worship.

Another idea: the Indian believes that the spirit of the enemy he slays enters into himself, and he is thereby made the stronger; hence he slays all that he can. I have seen young warriors in the streets of Cheyenne, with their hair reaching down almost to their heels; and all along it you'd see strung round pieces of silver, from the size of a silver dollar to a tea-saucer; each one of which was a tell-tale of the number of the scalps the young fellow had taken. It was what the ladies would call a "waterfall!"

Speaking of this, as revealing the pride of Indians in showing their prowess, I learned of a young buck, coming into a post and walking round, dressed in the top of Indian fashion,--i.e. with paint on his face, feathers in his hair, and brass ornaments on his leggins. These young fellows put on all the gewgaws they can to make a show of importance. Well, he finally walked into the post-trader's store, and asked Mr. Bullock if he didn't think it made the officers faint when they saw him? "Yes," said he, "I think you'd better take off some of your things (pointing to his trappings), they will scare somebody."

INDIAN BOY'S EDUCATION.

When an Indian gets to be eighteen years old, it is expected that he will strike out for himself, and do some act to show his bravery; and that begins in striking somebody to kill them (a white or Indian of a hostile tribe), and to steal stock, a horse, or mule, or cattle.

No young warrior can get a wife till he has taken the scalp of a white man or Indian, and have stolen a horse or pony. This being a law of the Sioux, so in proportion as he scalps and steals horses so does his number of wives increase, and the greater a warrior does he become. In short, he becomes "a big heap chief." What to us becomes a murder or a theft,--the very first act of a young Indian,--in his own tribe is a great and praiseworthy deed. So you see what blood has been shed, and other acts of cruelty caused by Spotted Tail, Red Cloud, and others, who have imbrued their hands in the blood of innocent victims with a fiendish delight that savages only know and take pleasure in.

As the arrows tell of the tribe to which they belong,--colored near the end,--green for the Sioux, blue, Cheyenne, red or brown, Arrapahoes, black feathers, Crow,--so the tribe to which an Indian murderer belongs is known by the method (usually) by which the victim is scalped. The Cheyennes remove a piece not larger than a silver dollar from immediately over the left ear; the Arrapahoes take the same from over the right ear. Others take from the crown, forehead, or nape of the neck. The Utes take the entire scalp from ear to ear, and from forehead to nape of neck.

MAKING PRESENTS.

A grocer in Julesburg had married a squaw; after awhile she left him and joined her tribe. Coming that way again, she came and looked in upon her former husband at the back-door, while all her relations stood staring around to see if she would be welcomed back again. But he took no notice of her. One of his friends said to him, "Joe, why don't you go and call her in, you know you are glad to see her back again; you certainly want her?"

"No, no," said he, "I ain't going to make any fuss over her at all. If I do, the whole crowd of her relations, uncles, aunts, and cousins, will come in to shake hands, and congratulate me with 'How, how,' expecting each one to have a pound of sugar. No, no, you don't catch me."

INDIANS MAKING SIGNALS.

The Indians can make signals to the distance of eight or ten miles to their confederates. This is done in two ways: first, by lighting one or more fires; secondly, by flashing the sunlight by small mirrors from one bluff to another. Thus, by day or by night, they can communicate at great distances. They have "field-glasses" also.

If an Indian is benighted on the plains, he can make himself quite comfortable, where a white man would perish in the winter with cold. He will gather some buffalo chips, and strike a fire with a flint, sitting close to it, and throwing his blanket around him in shape of a tent, and let the smoke go out of a hole at the top. He thus looks at night like a stump on fire.

MERCIFUL INDIANS.

A poor old German was traveling in Colorado with his wagon, when he was set upon by a lot of Indians. They drew their bows to shoot him, when he dropped upon his knees and began to pray vehemently. "Oh," said he, "mine goot friends, please don't shoot me! I'm joost the best friends what you have got. I never killed not nobody, and please don't shoot a poor fellow like me." The Indians did not understand a word he said, but he acted in such a ludicrous manner, they thought he was crazy, and so they let him pass unharmed. They seemed to have a sense of the ludicrous, as they went off laughing at the poor Dutchman quite heartily.

A SCENE AT NORTH PLATTE.

After the treaty with the Indians at Fort Laramie, in 1868, the Peace Commission adjourned, part to go with General Sherman to New Mexico, a part to meet at Fort Rice, Dakota, with General Terry, part to go up to Fort Bridger, in Wyoming, with General Augur, and another with Commissioner Taylor at North Platte, Nebraska, to meet different tribes not present at Laramie. There I went to see Spotted Tail's band, and learn all I could of Indian life. Spotted Tail was off on the Republican River, in Kansas, hunting buffalo with White Bear and Man-who-owns-his-Horses, nephew of Spotted Tail. Mr. Goodell, of Chicago, was there, to see if he could not induce the Indians to undertake the weaving of blankets and shawls, etc. by hand-looms, such as are in use in the Ohio Penitentiary. I went with him to hear what they would say. Rolled up in a blanket were specimens of woolen yarn of bright colors, and a piece of cloth partly woven, and he had a picture of a girl sitting at the loom in the act of weaving. Around us gathered all the young squaws, who expressed great delight at the whole thing and seemed to comprehend it; while young Indian lads stood at a distance and only gave a grunt of qualified satisfaction, or reservation. I should think there would be no difficulty in introducing such work, as the squaws will readily labor on anything that promises to add to their comfort or adornment of their persons.

Then quite an amusing incident occurred, which I must relate, though the joke was upon myself, or my friend, Mr. G----. Seeing a tall young squaw standing in front of her tent, I said, "Let us go and see what she is doing." She had made her morning toilet, and was very prettily dressed in gay colors, with a long red shawl on, coming down to her feet. I should say the entrance to the tepees or tents is through a hole hidden by a round hoop, covered with deer-skin, hanging by a string only, so as to be thrust aside easily when one wants to enter.

I said to her, "Me wa-se-na-cha-wa-kon!" That is to say, I am a medicine-man, or minister of the Great Spirit. "Wa-kon" means Great Spirit. Looking first at me, then at Mr. G----, she raised her finger and said, "Me no want." Then she turned and rushed into her tent,--shot in like a prairie-dog into his hole,--leaving us to feel rather silly by being so suddenly "cut" by a young beauty on the plains. I said, "Mr. G----, she evidently don't like your good looks or mine," and we walked off quite mortified. The interpreter explained her conduct, saying she was not "sick," and therefore did not want any "charm" to make her well.

Here I saw an Indian child, five years old, dressed in a most elegant suit of buckskin, embroidered with beads and horse-hair of various colors. The frock came below the knees, with a handsome fringe at the bottom, and underneath the little fellow wore leggins and moccasins. I never saw any child dressed so beautiful or looking like a little prince, as he was, of the tribe. I would have given fifty dollars for the "outfit," if I had a child to wear it. How is it that these rude children of nature can do such beautiful bead-work,--all of the figures as regular as if laid out by geometrical rule,--or as perfect as any lady could make the figures of an afghan?

This station of the Union Pacific Railroad is just beyond the crossing of the Platte River, of half a mile in width.