“My father told me I was born in the Black Hills. Ever since I can
remember my people have lived on the shores of the Bad River, South
Dakota. While I lived there I saw the white people for the first time
coming up the river in the big boats. At this time the buffalo were on
both sides of the Missouri River, and there was plenty of game and we were
all living fat at that time. It was not very long before the fort was
built at the mouth of the Bad River. My father liked to be with the white
people, and we were up at the store a good deal. The fort finally became
a great trading post. The Indians brought in skins of the various
animals, such as beaver, wolf, fox, panther, and buffalo. While I was
still a young boy I left that section of the country and came further west
with the other Indians. I have always tried to live without making any
trouble among my own people or with the whites. When I got out among the
Sioux I began to learn some of their wild tricks. I began to learn to
fight the other Indians. I then went on the warpath, and have been in a
good many Indian fights. One fight in particular against the Assinaboines
I want to mention. In this battle there were about two hundred of us
Sioux. The fight was on the Missouri River. There were charges and
countercharges several times. One of the bravest came in advance of the
others but he had to retreat. I put two arrows in his back and then
rushed up and knocked him off his horse with my bow. After I had knocked
this man off his horse my own horse ran away with me and ran right into
the enemy’s line, dashing in among the foe. They were firing arrows at me
from all sides, and I expected that this was my last day. This was the
greatest fight I was ever in, though I have been in many others.”
It is a long step from the spear to the ploughshare, but the moccasined
feet of White Horse soon took the step. Concerning this epoch in his
life, he said: “The most important event in my life was when the
Government began to give annuities to the Indians and we were placed on
the reservation. I have always been a leader of the Indians and a chief.
When farming implements were assigned us, and the allotments made, I was
appointed head farmer over the Indians. I visited the Indians all over my
district, and tried to get them to till the soil and send their children
to school. I sent my own boy to school first as an example to the others.
I sent my children to a nearby school until they were old enough and then
I was one of the first to send my children to Hampton, Virginia, to
school. They all came home and died of consumption. About this time the
first missionary came to our country, and I was one of the first to be
converted to the Church. I have since done all I could to bring the other
Indians into the Church. I went at my own expense down to the place where
I now live. There were no people living there at the time, and I cut out
of the woods the logs and built a church in my own home. I had no help.
The Indians came there to church, and afterward they named the church the
White Horse Church. After this a settlement was made here by the Indians,
and finally the Government made a post-office at this place, and they
called it the White Horse post-office. It has since become a sub-agency.
The influence thus brought to bear on the Indians had led them to live a
good deal as the white man lives. I have my farm now, raise cattle and
horses. All I have done for the Government and for the Church I have been
glad to do, for they have all been kind to me. While other Indians have
been fighting and making trouble for the United States I have never
participated in any of it.”
Before passing to the folklore tale that fell from the lips of Chief White
Horse, the attention of the reader is especially directed to the chapter
on Indian Impressions of the last Great Council, where White Horse
describes his feelings and the lessons he learned while riding for the
first time on the iron horse.