During General Grant's first term as President, the Indian agencies were
put in the hands of the representatives of the following churches,
namely: Congregational, Presbyterian, Catholic, Dutch Reform, Episcopal,
Methodist, Baptist, Unitarian, and the two branches of Friends. This was
brought about by a resolution on January 13th, 1871 at a conference of
the President, the board of Indian commissioners and the official
representatives of the religious bodies above mentioned. This was
considered at the time as the President's policy and was something of a
surprise to many army officers. But there was no marked criticism, most
of them believing that if the management of Indian affairs could not be
in the hands of the war department, it would have as good a chance of
being honestly managed by representatives of the churches as in any
other way.
The Kiowa and Commanche agency was put in the hands of a Mr. Tatum, a
Quaker and most estimable gentleman, but I afterwards thought he as illy
understood the Indian character as the Indians did the peace loving
creed of the Quaker persuasion. He was unfortunate in being found in his
shirt sleeves and at work, when the first delegation of the Indian
chiefs went to the agency to see him, and from that time was spoken of
by the Indians as the squaw agent. They could see nothing elevating or
even respectable in a man working, that being the squaw's duties, and
had little respect for the agent afterwards, although he did the best he
could for them.
Mr. Tatum thought it would be better for the Indians to live in houses
like white people, instead of in tents, and proposed building them
houses, and some of the chiefs agreed to occupy them. He at once got
busy and built six or seven neat log houses in the timber a few miles
north of the camp. The Indians moved in as they had agreed and it was
reported that some of them put their tepees up inside the houses. Of
course they did not stay long in such an unnatural place, and when I saw
the houses some time afterwards, there was no evidence of recent
occupation.
He also established a school for Indian children at the agency, and I
think it was patronized by some of the Indians sending their children,
but up until the time we left the post, the attendance was small. We
cannot tell what the eventual results of these honest efforts to do good
may be.
One of the most interesting places about the camp to me was Mr.
Orleman's office. He was a West Point graduate, a lieutenant in one of
the companies at the camp, and was the engineer under Major Rockwell,
who had charge of the construction of the new post. Maybe my everlasting
desire to know things interested him, for he was very kind in showing me
his instruments and explaining their uses. I was a frequent caller at
his office and he always seemed glad to see me. I mention this more
particularly from the fact that in the spring of 1871 there was a part
of the garrison, I think two troops of cavalry sent to establish a camp
on or near the junction of Cache creek and Red river, and I was ordered
to make a survey of the route and distance. I had never done such a
thing and was more than doubtful of my ability to do it properly, so I
went to see Mr. Orleman about it. He said, "Oh, you can do it as well as
anybody. I have explained these instruments, and how to use them; of
course you can do it." And that settled it. It was simple enough after
all. A meter is fastened to the hub and spoke of one of the rear wheels
of the ambulance, the hand pointing down and with a weight on the end of
it to hold it steady over rough ground. A clockwork inside records the
revolutions of the wheel. In other words, the clock goes around instead
of the hand, and by knowing the circumference of the wheel it is easy
then to calculate the distance traveled. The compass and tripods were
not so easy, but a little practice before starting gave me some
confidence. The zig-zag course we had to take to get around the head of
the canons and to avoid rough ground where the ambulance could not go,
were the principal difficulties, but by recording the degrees of each
change of direction one gets fairly good results. Mr. Orleman came down
some time after we had established that camp, and corrected the survey
by triangulation, and complimented me on missing the location less than
one-fourth of a mile in a distance of more than forty-five miles
traveled.
From this camp I was ordered to make a topographical survey to the
junction of the North fork of the Red river with the main stream, a
distance of about one hundred miles by the route we took along the
river. Mr. Spencer with a detachment of about thirty troopers was sent
with me as an escort. This kind of survey did not pretend to be accurate
but was intended to observe and record the principal features of the
country, such as canons, high points of land, valleys and table lands,
and to estimate the altitudes and distance. The compass was the only
instrument used on this trip. We arrived at our destination about the
middle of the forenoon of the third day and crossed the North fork and
went into camp at the junction of the two streams. There was an immense
cottonwood tree just on the bank where the two streams united and we
conceived the idea of marking our names and date on it, supposing that
we might be the first white people in that locality. After the work was
done I suggested that we have a picket pin heated and burn the letters
to keep them from healing over so soon, but we discovered there were no
matches in the command to start a fire, a piece of carelessness that we
thought inexcusable. It occurred to me that the medical panniers are
always provided with matches and on investigation I found a little box
of wax matches and we soon had a fire started. When we had seared the
letters over thoroughly we were quite pleased with the result and if
that tree is still standing it will probably show some marks of the
vandal hands that scarred its magnificent body. I remember the dinner
that day among other good dinners that I have had on my hunting trips.
We had buffalo hump and I thought it at that time the best thing I had
ever tasted.
The country from our camp at the mouth of Cache creek to the junction of
North fork and the main stream of Red river is made up mostly of wide
valleys and high table lands called mesa in Spanish. These vary in
extent from a mile or less to several miles and near the river the
country is broken up by frequent canons. It was a beautiful country to
look at but it was, of course, entirely uninhabited except by prairie
dogs and wild game and buffalo were plentiful, and I recall one bunch of
wild horses.
We came on them unawares, going up from a wide valley to a mesa or table
land, and they were grazing some three or four hundred yards from the
edge of the mesa. It was astonishing how quickly they were bunched up,
the colts in the middle, the mares on the flanks and the stallions in
the lead, going full speed to get away. When we came to the edge of the
mesa again they had crossed a wide valley and were going up on another
mesa several miles away still at full speed. They were a beautiful bunch
of animals, a reddish roan in color, long tails and manes, and in size
much larger than the Indian ponies, but were of a pony build and smaller
than our best roadsters.
Prairie dog villages were numerous. We went through one that must have
been four or five miles in extent.
We had an early dinner that day, and concluded to start on our return
march, and about five o'clock in the evening we came to a pretty little
valley with numerous water holes and some dead timber and went into
camp.
I took my shotgun and was having some good sport with the ducks when Mr.
Spencer's orderly came to me and said, "the lieutenant's compliments and
he would like some matches to start a fire." I replied, "give the
lieutenant my compliments and tell him I gave the matches to the trooper
to start a fire to heat the picket pins, and have not seen them since."
When I returned to camp and was within hearing distance I saw two men
riding away and heard Mr. Spencer hallow and say, "Corporal, it will be
about midnight when you get back, and we will have a bonfire on the hill
for you as a guide to our camp." When I got close enough I said,
"Spencer, how are you going to get a fire?" and then it dawned on him
that we had no matches. "My God," he said, "I never thought of that."
But the men had gone at full gallop and we let them go. I thought of
the powder I used in my shotgun and thought I would try an experiment.
That was when muzzle loaders were still in vogue, the breechloader not
having come into general use, and I cut a hole in the lining of my coat
where it was padded about the shoulders and took out some cotton wadding
which I tamped lightly down on the powder in the gun. At first I had too
much powder and it would not work but after a few trials the wadding
caught fire and with some dry sticks for kindling we soon had a fire
under way and Mr. Spencer had his bonfire on the hill that night. The
corporal and the careless troopers who had left the matches at our
midday camp returned before midnight having made the round trip of about
twenty-eight miles for a little box of matches.
The following day was uneventful until toward night. Some troopers who
had permission were out hunting. We had heard a shot occasionally but
attached no importance to it, but late in the afternoon an Indian or two
were seen off on the hills to the north and in a little while they
became numerous enough to create some apprehension. It developed that
one of the fool troopers had taken a shot at one of them, but
fortunately had missed him and by nightfall there were great numbers of
them in sight.
We soon found a little water hole and went into camp and made the best
preparation we could for trouble if it came. We got everything close
about the water supply and the horses lariated close around us and
awaited results. Soon the advance guard of the Indians appeared in
perfect alignment silhouetted against the western sky and Mr. Spencer
with two men went out to meet them. Explanations and apologies followed,
but before the parley was over they informed Mr. Spencer that if they
had found us to have been soldiers from Texas they intended to make a
clean sweep of it, but as we were from Fort Sill they wanted to be
friends. I have often thought it was fortunate for us that we were from
Fort Sill, as they outnumbered us twenty or more to one. We waited a
half hour or more after they had gone and then quietly mounted and rode
away, not a man saying a word until we felt that we were out of danger.
We camped again about midnight and saw no more of the Indians.
The following morning I had taken my gun and gone ahead a mile or so and
came down off the mesa and found a pony in the valley below. I rode up
to it and tried to catch it but it would not allow me to get close
enough. I then waited until the command came up. The column marching in
twos separated at the order right and left oblique march and made a V
shape that surrounded the pony and we took him along with us. We soon
came to the trail where the Indians had crossed, a very wide one,
showing that great numbers had passed. There were other evidences of
their having been on a raid in Texas; some bed ticking and feathers,
some pieces of clothing, evidently taken from some settler whom they had
probably murdered and scalped. The pony had a sore back and had
evidently been abandoned as useless and a hindrance on their march.
Although it was a long day's march we concluded to try and make the camp
at Cache creek that night, which we did, getting in very late. We had
come by compass directly across country from the junction of the two
forks of Red river instead of following the stream as we did going up.
We captured a young antelope, the last day out, and one of the troopers
carried it on the saddle in front of him into camp. It lived until we
were back at Fort Sill some time, but that kind of life was too hard for
it and it gave up the struggle.
There was plenty of game in the country around the camp at Cache creek.
Turkeys were very abundant and duck shooting was good in season, and the
fishing was fine. I have always regretted my impulsive disposition when
thinking of my first shot at turkeys near this camp. When the command
was nearing the mouth of Cache creek from Fort Sill, I had taken my last
observation with the compass and directed the ambulance driver to a
point indicated, and went ahead of the command to select the camp.
Having decided on a desirable place I went down stream a little distance
and heard some turkeys making a great ado about something. I got down on
a sand bar and slipped along the river bank until I thought I was at the
right place for a shot. On looking over the bank I discovered that
there was quite a bunch of turkeys standing around in a circle and
making a great chatter. I fired into them without waiting to see what
caused such a commotion, and when I was near where two of them lay an
immense diamond rattler uncoiled and glided away. What would have
happened if I had waited? Would the turkeys have killed the snake, or
the snake some of the turkeys, or would the turkeys have gotten tired of
the game and quit? I have often asked myself these questions. Does
anybody know? If so I would like to hear their comment. While in that
camp we killed two diamond rattlers, one six feet and the other six
feet, four inches in length. It may be that one of them was among my
first acquaintances in that camp.
There was a turkey roost some three miles above camp where we generally
got our supply of turkeys. A young son of General Grierson, having
returned from school for his summer vacation, came down to our camp, and
was enthusiastic for a visit to the turkey roost, so we arranged to go
the following evening, and got permission to take a couple of troop
horses for the purpose, a thing not provided for in the regulations.
When we had reached the timber we left the trail and hunted for a secure
place to tie our horses, as dense a thicket as we could find. We found a
place where we thought they would be secure and from there walked to the
roost, a short distance away, and sat down and waited for the birds to
come in. We did not have long to wait until we could hear the sound of
wings, and they commenced lighting in the tree tops above us. We waited
until they were well settled before shooting. It had been a warm day and
by this time was murky and getting quite dark, and we had difficulty in
marking our birds, but we soon had four handsome ones and gathered them
up and started to find our horses. I was confident I had observed
closely the directions and distance we had gone from the trail and also
from the horses to the roost, but we failed to find them where we
expected. It was pitch dark by this time and very still and we tramped
the neighborhood where we thought we had left them, and then sat down
and waited, hoping they might neigh or make some noise and thus guide
us to them. When this failed we went to the trail and by lighting
matches found where we had left it, and from there we followed the
course that we thought would take us to the thicket where we had left
the horses. We found it, or thought we had, and tramped it over
thoroughly without finding them. We carried our guns and turkeys with
us, not daring to put them down for fear we would lose them. We finally
concluded some thieving Indians had watched us and had followed us into
the timber and stolen our horses, and so we started for the camp on
foot. It was a hot, sultry night and I soon began to think three turkeys
and a shotgun a good deal of a load and when I inquired of my companion
how he was making it he admitted that he was getting a little tired. We
rested a little bit and started again, I having taken his bird, much
against his protest, and by frequent rests on the way we got into camp
between ten and eleven o'clock, a very tired pair of hunters. I sent for
the sergeant of the guard and told him I wished to be awakened at four
o'clock in the morning. The young lad insisted that he would go with me
but I told him no, that he was too tired and had better sleep and that I
could get the horses if they were there. At four o'clock, however, he
was up as quick as I was and we were soon on the way afoot to the turkey
roost. We found the horses just where we had tied them and I felt
greatly relieved, not only because it saved me the price of two valuable
horses but because it saved the captain of the company who loaned them,
as well as myself, a severe reprimand. I came to have a great admiration
for the pluck and manliness of my young hunter friend, and if he is an
officer in the service now, as many of the sons of my army acquaintances
are, and he should ever see this story of army life on the frontier, I
wish here and now to present him my compliments, and would like to hear
from him.
We had an abundance of fish while at this camp. The quartermaster had
built us a little boat so we could stretch troutlines across the stream
and we not only had the officers' mess well supplied but often had
plenty for the men of the command.
A few days after we had returned from the North fork or Red river,
Captain Norvel's troop of cavalry was ordered out on a scout down the
valley on the north side of the river, and I was ordered to accompany
the command. We started late in the afternoon and by evening it
commenced a drizzling rain. We went into camp about dark but did not
unwrap our blankets as expected to be out some days and did not wish
them to get wet. The blankets in a scout like this are made into a roll
and wrapped in a poncho or oil cloth covering and fastened up against
the cantle of the saddle by straps which are always a part of the
equipment of the army saddle. The captain and I placed our rolls of
blankets at the foot of a big tree and with our waterproof to protect us
against the rain, sat down on them until the shower should be over. It
never let up raining during the whole night, and there we sat dozing and
talking by spells until morning. Soon after daylight a messenger arrived
with orders to return to camp.
We found nearly everything ready for the return trip to Fort Sill and
were soon on the way. We had already heard that General Sherman and
staff, Colonels Marcey, Audenried and Tourtellotte, were there on an
inspection trip of the military posts of the west. They had come by way
of Texas and were fully informed of the doings of the large band of
Indians with whom we had our little pow-wow and whose horse we had
captured, and whose trail we had crossed on our return from the north
fork of Red river to the camp on Cache creek. They had also learned that
they came very near being in line with the depredations committed. This
band had not only burned houses and killed settlers but had also
captured a government wagon train and had tied the teamster to the wagon
and having looted the train of all they wanted, burned the teamsters
with the wagons and contents. The young bucks on their return to the
reservation, and feeling secure at Fort Sill had bragged about it. The
names of the leaders in the raid were known and the matter could not be
overlooked by General Grierson, but he was powerless without the
authority of Mr. Tatum, the Indian agent. This always struck me as a
ridiculous phase of our Indian policy.
It was a universal feeling in the army that the war department should
have the exclusive control and management of the Indian problems,
instead of the interior department, but I suppose politics, the bane of
the country in so many ways, ruled in Washington then as it does now,
and it was to the interests of the politicians to have it where it was.
General Grant was at this time President and had served as a young army
officer on the frontier and knew better. The Republicans were in control
of congress but it would have been the same with any other political
party in control, and was probably the worst that could have been done.
Mr. Tatum was fully informed of the raid and the leaders in it, and
called for a pow-wow at General Grierson's quarters. A number of Indian
chiefs came in to talk the matter over, among them being Satanta, the
war chief of the Kiowas; Big Tree, a young chief of the same tribe, and
Satank, an old and wizzened up and vicious looking Indian, and council
chief among the Kiowas; all known to have been in the raid. There was a
heavy guard standing around the quarters ready for any emergency. Mr.
Tatum had demanded the surrender of the guilty parties. While the
pow-wow was in progress Lone Wolf, chief of the Comanches, came among
them, a rifle in each hand, and a couple of bows and a quiver full of
arrows swung over his back. I suppose it was a pre-concerted arrangement
among the Indians for he handed one gun to an Indian near him, and a
couple of Indians behind him grabbed the bows and arrows and in an
instant these were pointed at the breast of Mr. Tatum, General Grierson,
General Sherman, and other officers present. I suppose the click, click,
click of the rifles as the guard cocked and brought them to shoulder,
gave Lone Wolf a better understanding of the bloody work at hand, for he
raised one hand and said "No shoot! No shoot!" and by the interpreter
explained that it was only a joke and that he did not intend to hurt
anybody. The interpreter reported afterwards that he had also said when
presenting these guns to the breasts of those men mentioned, "Now let
these men go and we can fix things up all right." During the excitement
Big Tree broke away from the crowd and mounted a horse near by, and
tried to escape but the garrison was wide awake to the condition of
things, and after a shot or two he surrendered. He and Satanta and
Satank were put in the guard-house, a newly built one at the new post,
and a strong guard placed about the building, until they were removed to
Texas to be tried by the civil authorities.
We arrived at Fort Sill from our camp on Cache creek a day or two after
these occurrences but I got the details of the incident from officers
present and from my wife who remembers them better than I do. Promptly
after the depredations had been committed General Mackenzie of the
Department of Texas with several troops of cavalry got on the trail of
these Indians and had followed it up into the territory and into the
Wichita mountains and from there to Fort Sill and arrived at the post
shortly after our return from camp.
After resting his troops for a few days General Mackenzie was ready for
the march back to Texas with his prisoners. Quite a number of officers
were present to witness their departure. I was standing next to Mr.
Jones, the interpreter, when they were brought out of the guard-house,
all hand-cuffed, and all in the usual blanket attire of the Indians.
When old Satank appeared he set up the most weird and doleful sing-song
wail I ever heard, and his face I thought was not so vicious looking as
usual, but was more solemn and maybe with a trace of sadness in it. I
asked Mr. Jones what it meant, and he replied in an undertone, "It means
he ain't going far."
Satanta and Big Tree were placed in one wagon with guards sitting behind
them and Satank in another wagon with one of the sergeants sitting
beside him and guards behind and when the columns were formed troopers
rode alongside the wagons and in this formation they left the post. When
in the valley south of the post and probably a couple of miles away we
heard the report of firearms from that direction. Soon a messenger
arrived with the compliments of General Mackenzie and requested that an
ambulance be sent for a trooper who had been wounded. He also gave the
essential particulars of what occurred. It seems that by some means
unknown, Satank had a knife hidden about his person somewhere and
although hand-cuffed had got possession of it and stabbed the sergeant
sitting next to him and then grabbed the sergeant's gun and shot the
teamster. The sergeant's wound was only slight and he went forward with
the command, but the teamster was shot through one side of the neck and
fell from his saddle and was brought back to the post hospital for
treatment. It proved to be only a deep flesh wound and he was soon
discharged from the hospital, and returned to his own command. When the
guards realized the state of affairs they made short work of it, and
Satank was laid by the roadside and General Grierson sent a squad of
soldiers and buried him there in his blankets. It was his death song
that had so impressed me as they brought him from the guard-house.
Satanta and Big Tree were tried and convicted in Texas and sentenced to
the penitentiary for life. It was reported in the papers some years
afterwards that Satanta jumped out of a window at the prison and killed
himself and it was rumored that Big Tree had hung himself, but so far as
I know this was not confirmed.