Fort Sill was the first post at which I had any experience with Indians.
It was located on what was then called the Kiowa and Comanche
reservation near the junction of Cache and Medicine Bluff creeks. Mount
Scott, the highest point of the Wichita mountains was some nine miles to
the northwest and both places had been geographically located and were
used as a base for triangulation in locating other points. These tribes
of Plains Indians were famous fighters and were finally subdued and
brought to terms by Custer's great battle on the Washita. They were very
numerous and there was always a feeling that an outbreak might occur at
any time. During my service there from January, 1870, to August, 1871,
there were seventeen men brought in and buried who had been killed and
scalped by Indians. They would not attack a large party of men in
soldier's uniform but boot-leggers and stragglers stood a poor show if
caught out alone. Once while there a woman, one girl sixteen or
seventeen years old, and one about twelve years old, and two smaller
ones and two boys, one of whom belonged to another family, were brought
into the camp on the promise of a hundred dollars apiece ransom. They
were from Texas and at their homes when attacked by Indians, and the men
were killed and these people brought away captives. If attempt had been
made to recover them by force they would have been killed.
I once saw Lone Wolf, a Comanche chief, with a United States mail sack
of leather on his pony, and the interpreter, Mr. Jones, told me that he
and some of the other young bucks had been on a raid down in Texas and
among other depredations they had killed the mail carrier and destroyed
the mail, only keeping the sack for his own use. I saw him frequently
with it afterwards. Mr. Jones told me that Lone Wolf had said that his
heart felt better now, as he had avenged the death of his son who had
been killed on one of their raids in Texas. These raids were of frequent
occurrence, and there was generally some evidence of them in the wearing
apparel or trinkets, or anything the Indians might fancy, and that had
evidently belonged to some settlers or travelers who had been so
unfortunate as to come in their way. But so far as I know, they never
killed a soldier.
I have witnessed from the bluff near the hospital on Medicine Bluff
creek their dances in the valley just across the streams at night, many
times, but never had any desire to make a closer acquaintance. It always
seemed to me a wild kind of a thing, consisting of jumping and gyrating
and stooping and gliding and then straightening up suddenly, and
swinging the arms, and all the time droning in short jerky cough-like
notes, interspersed with sharp penetrating yells. There might be only
one performer or maybe a half dozen or more. Where there is a number
engaged, it is not only exciting but decidedly wild, certainly unlike
any other dance I have ever seen.
They were great thieves and anything left outside of our tents which
might strike their fancy was liable to be carried off. One day a squaw
brought a venison ham to our tent to sell. The regular price was fifty
cents and I bought it although we had bought one less than an hour
before, and when taking it back to hang up with the first one I thought
the squaw looked very much like the one from whom I had made the first
purchase, and was not much surprised to find the first ham missing. We
usually hung them out for a while to get the Indian odor off them, and I
have no doubt that I bought the same ham from the same squaw the second
time.
There were fixed days each month on which rations were issued to the
Indians by the commissary department and I have seen the squaws carry
sacks of flour a little distance away from the place of issue and empty
out the flour and carry off the sacks, hundreds of them, so that the
ground for a considerably distance around would be literally white with
flour.
They were permitted to go about the camp any where during the day, but
at sundown scarcely an Indian was to be seen and none were permitted in
camp at night.
It was a very comfortable feeling to hear the hours called at night, by
those on guard if one should happen to wake up and hear the announcement
that "All's well." For instance, the sergeant of the guard announces in
a loud enough voice to be heard by the first sentinel, "Two o'clock and
all's well." On hearing it the sentinel repeats the message, and so on
around the camp, and when the last sentinel has finished, the sergeant
of the guard says, "Two o'clock and all's well all around." This is
repeated each hour during the night.
[Illustration: MEDICINE BLUFF
The original of this picture is in our possession, and was taken by
Soule, of Boston, when we were stationed at Fort Sill]
A very different announcement is the long roll of the drums which
happened twice while we were at this camp. It is the alarm to awaken the
camp, and made by rapid and long continued beating of the drum without
break or stop until the garrison is fully aroused. The assembly call by
the bugle of the cavalry, takes the place of the long roll of the drum
for the infantry, and the two together, and the clanking of arms, and
the orders to "Fall in," "Fall in," "Fall in," makes an exceedingly
interesting, not to say exciting experience. If you are quick in getting
out of your tent you may see the officers scurrying across the parade
ground to their command, fastening on their clothes as they go and soon
everything is in order for whatever may happen. The women and children
in these cases, hurry with all possible speed to a place of safety. At
this camp it was always at Major Van De Weile's quarters, some of them
very scantily clothed, generally with some kind of wrap over their night
clothes, but it was not cold weather, and any way what did it signify in
such an emergency. The major's quarters were what was called a "hakel"
building and the only one in camp better than a tent except General
Grierson's that offered any protection. Such buildings are made by
standing posts on end in the ground and as close together as possible
and filling in the cracks with mortar and pieces of boards or anything
suitable, and the inside is then plastered up along the cracks until it
makes a fairly smooth wall and is then whitewashed and makes comfortable
quarters but not a first class protection against rifle bullets. They
would huddle together and talk in undertones as to what might happen
until the report came that it was a false alarm. In both these instances
it proved to be so, but the anxiety and excitement was just as real as
if the results had been different. Probably some nervous sentinel had
fired his gun at what he supposed to be an Indian crawling toward him,
but that may have been only a dog or some other animal, or it may have
been purely his imagination. Any one who has not gone through such an
experience cannot imagine its uncanny quality as the Scotch would
express it. It is a very vivid impression with me today after more than
forty years.
We remained under more or less strain of anxiety until the new quarters
were finished or enough of it so that we could crowd into them. Officers
take quarters according to rank, and it not infrequently happens that
one will have to vacate his quarters and give place to another who
outranks him, the ranking officer having this right and as a rule he
does not hesitate to use it although he may be a single man and the man
displaced be a man of family. This is so well understood and so
graciously accepted that there is seldom any feeling or resentment about
it.
In our own case we had to occupy quarters with another officer and his
wife, Mr. Spencer of the Tenth cavalry, and this reminds me of an
experience we had that shows something of the Indian character. We had
for some time previous to this, a Cherokee Indian woman employed as
servant. She probably had a little negro blood in her veins as her long
black hair was slightly wavy, but in every other way she was typically
Indian. She was exceedingly neat and clean and a thorough housekeeper
and an exceptionally good cook and a most devoted servant, but she would
take orders from no one except my wife. Soon after going into our new
quarters she informed my wife that she was going to leave us, and this
she did, knowing full well that she could not remain at the post if she
did so. My wife was surprised and so expressed herself and also her
sorrow at having her go, but no inducement she could offer had any
effect on this high-strung woman. She cleaned out the stove and put in
the kindling and had everything neat and clean as possible before
leaving. It developed afterwards that she was offended at some orders
given her by Mrs. Spencer.
Another little incident will show the Indian blood: One of the colored
sergeants took quite a fancy to her and would often stand in the door
and talk to her, which was all well enough with Charlotte until she
wanted him to go. I think on this occasion he was disposed to nag her
about something, for I overheard her say in a loud and angry tone, "Now
you go, I won't talk to you again. Go now!" I hurried to the kitchen and
opened the door just in time to see the butcherknife sticking in the
outside door-jam and still vibrating from the force that sent it. The
sergeant had jumped in time, but Charlotte was furious. When I asked,
"Why, Charlotte, what is the matter?" she simply replied, "Next time I
tell that nigger to go I guess he will go." I frequently thought how
near we came to having another patient in the hospital.
I will relate one or two other instances that occurred while we were
stationed here that may be interesting: My wife had the only sewing
machine in the camp and one day Satanta, the war chief of the Kiowas,
was passing down the line of officers' quarters and heard the hum of the
sewing machine. It was summer time and the door was open so he stalked
in and sat down without any ceremony or sign of recognition and watched
my wife sewing. He was evidently very much interested but gave no
evidence of it by word or look. He remained for quite a while observing
the performance intently and then got up and said, "Adios!" and stalked
out again. He made several calls afterwards and went through the same
performance each time until I suppose he became satisfied for his visits
ceased. He was the finest specimen of an Indian I ever saw; very large,
well proportioned, with a remarkably forceful expression of face and
walked with a dignity becoming a prince.
Adjacent to the sutler's store was a large corral enclosed by a high
stockade, inside of which were the necessary buildings for storage,
stables, etc., and near the front of this corral and on a line with the
store was the houses for the clerks, a few feet back from the stockade.
In front of each house was a small gate which was always closed at night
but often kept open during the day. In the summer the front doors were
also left open. One day a tall, rather handsome Indian, that I had often
noticed about the camp, and who was something of a "dandy" in dress,
happened to be passing and happened to catch his reflection in a large
mirror on the dresser that stood in line with the door and gate. He
immediately marched in without looking right or left, made a thorough
survey of himself in the glass then turned and walked out saying "How"
to Mrs. Rector, who was sitting in the room during this rather
unceremonious call.
I had a little experience one day with Stumbling Bear, a subchief of the
Kiowas that at that time made me a little nervous and I have since
thought with little reason. I was returning from a duck hunt up Medicine
Bluff creek and was a short distance above the bluff that gave it its
name when Stumbling Bear came up behind me, and we talked a little and I
offered him some ducks which he took, and soon rode ahead. I knew of a
little canon that broke its way down to the stream a little distance
ahead and across which the trail must lead. For some reason which I
cannot explain, I thought it best to wait until he came up on the other
side of the canon. This canon opened out into the river valley and from
my position I could see the valley thoroughly. He did not come upon the
opposite side as I expected, and I felt equally sure that he did not go
down the canon and come out in the valley. He had his rifle with him and
of course could have killed me as he came up behind, if he had wished to
do so, but I was nervous about him not showing up on the opposite side
of the canon, and so I concluded to make a detour around the head of the
canon and out of gunshot range, and went on my way to camp. That he
could have gotten out of there without my seeing him still seems to me
impossible, and why he should stay in there until I had gone seems
equally unaccountable. Any way I did not see him again for several days
when he rode into camp as usual.
The Indian agency was located just outside the military reservation,
some five or six miles down the creek from the fort. Colonel Boone, a
nephew of Daniel Boone of frontier fame, was Indian agent when we
arrived at the camp but was succeeded the following spring by an
appointee under a new ruling of the Interior Department. Colonel Boone
was a very large man and his wife was quite below the average sized
woman. I mention him here only because we were mutual friends, but also
of at least one commendable trait of Indian character that is
illustrated by their journey back to their ranch in Colorado. The
colonel had decided, much against our protestations of the dangers, to
go across the country, which to us seemed to be wilfully sacrificing
their lives; but he insisted that he would send up to the chief of the
Arapahoes, whose name I have forgotten, and if he thought it fairly safe
and would send an escort, he certainly would take the chances.
The escort came in a few days and they were certainly a fine looking lot
of fellows, being extra well mounted and equipped and I felt sure that
they would give a good account of themselves in case of trouble and the
colonel assured us that the last one of them would die in defense of
himself and wife if necessary. So, we said good-bye to them with some
misgivings, but with a strong hope that they would make the journey
safely. I got a letter from the colonel some months later announcing
their safe arrival home, and praising the fidelity and other good
qualities of his Indian escort. It was refreshing to hear and know
something good of Indians that had so much that was bad to their credit.
I am quite convinced that any Indian appreciates justice and a square
deal as much as we do, and recognizes force and submits to it quickly
enough, if tempered with justice, but he does not understand moral
suasion as we understand it. I think that his conception of it is
cowardice. He cannot comprehend why one should return good for evil but
believes in an eye for an eye and he faithfully carries it out in
practice. He believes in all kinds of ghosts and spirits, good and bad,
and his life is largely shaped by this belief.
A story Mr. Jones told me one day will illustrate their practical view
of things: Mr. Jones had married a squaw and some of the chiefs were at
his house for dinner that day. He tried to explain to them our Bible
history of how sin came into the world, and they listened intently, and
without interruption, until he had finished. Then one old chief spoke up
and said, "That is just like a white woman. Now if that had been a
squaw, she would have taken a stick and killed that snake, and saved all
the trouble." And while it may sound funny it was not intended as
levity or anything like a joke, but was said in all seriousness. He
evidently did not grasp our interpretation of it in any way, but on the
contrary he looked on the woman's actions as cowardly and inexcusable.