MOVE TO WYOMING—FALSE FRIENDS—THE MANUSCRIPT OF MY NARRATIVE
TAKEN BY ANOTHER PARTY AND PUBLISHED—I GO TO WASHINGTON.
Mr. Kelly’s sudden death, my own sickness, and the scourge of cholera,
all coming at one time, proved disastrous to me in a pecuniary way. I
was defrauded in every way, even to the robbing of my husband’s body
of the sum of five hundred dollars the day of his death. However, I
finally disposed of the remnant of property left, and started for
Wyoming, where lived the only persons beside myself who survived the
attack on our train. They had prospered, and in a spirit of kindness,
as I then thought, invited and prevailed on me to share their home.
It proved a most disastrous move for me. My leisure hours, since my
release from captivity, had been devoted to preparing for publication,
in book form, a narrative of my experience and adventures among the
Indians, and it was completed. The manuscript was surreptitiously
taken, and a garbled, imperfect account of my captivity issued as the
experience of my false friend, who, by the aid of an Indian, escaped
after a durance of only one day and night.
[Illustration: Red Cloud, the Orator Sioux Chief.]
I remained in Wyoming one year, then started for Washington, resolved
to present a claim to the Government for losses sustained at the hands
of the Indians. I knew what difficulties beset my path, but duty to my
child urged me on, and I was not without some hope of success.
After learning of my captivity through Captain Fisk, President Lincoln
had issued orders to the different military commanders that my freedom
from the Indians must be purchased at any price; and my sad story
was well known to the then existing authorities when I arrived in
Washington.
President Grant, learning through a friend from Colorado of my
presence, sent for me, and assured me of his warmest sympathy. He was
cognizant of what had already transpired relative to me, and told me
the papers were on file in the War Department, in charge of General
Sherman.
In presenting my claim, many difficulties had to be encountered; but
members of Congress, realizing that some compensation was due me, and
understanding the delay that would result from a direct application to
the Indian Bureau, introduced a bill appropriating to me five thousand
dollars for valuable services rendered the Government in saving Captain
Fisk’s train from destruction, and by timely warning saving Fort Sully
from pillage, and its garrison from being massacred. This was done
without my having any knowledge of it until after the bill had passed
both houses of Congress and become a law.
During my stay in Washington, Red Cloud, and a delegation of chiefs and
head warriors from the different tribes of the Dakota or Sioux nation,
arrived. They all recognized me as once having been with their people,
and seemed quite rejoiced at the meeting.
Some of the good Christian people of the city extended to the Indians,
through me, an invitation to attend church one Sabbath, which I made
known to Red Cloud, telling him of the great organ, the fine music they
would hear, and of the desire the good people had to benefit their
souls.
Red Cloud replied with dignity that he did not have to go to the big
house to talk to the Great Spirit; he could sit in his tipi or room,
and the Great Spirit would listen. The Great Spirit was not where the
big music was. No, he would not go.
None of the Indians accepted the invitation; but some of the squaws
went, escorted to the church in elegant carriages; but they soon
left in disgust. The dazzling display of fine dresses, the beautiful
church, and the “big music”—none of these had interest for them, if
unaccompanied by a feast.
I attended several of the councils held with the Indians. At one of
them, Red Cloud addressed Secretary Cox and Commissioner Parker in a
lengthy speech on the subject of his grievances, in which he referred
to me as follows. Pointing me out to the Secretary and Commissioner, he
said:
“Look at that woman; she was captured by Silver Horn’s party. I wish
you to pay her what her captors owe her. I am a man true to what I say,
and want to keep my promise. I speak for all my nation. The Indians
robbed that lady there, and through your influence I want her to be
paid out of the first money due us.” Placing his finger first upon the
breast of the Secretary and then of the Commissioner, as if to add
emphasis to what he was about to say, he added, “Pay her out of our
money; do not give the money into any but her own hands; then the right
one will get it.”
In one of my interviews with the chiefs, Red Cloud, Spotted Tail, and
others desired me to get up a paper setting forth my claims against
their people, and they would sign it. I accordingly made out a bill
of items and presented it to them, with my affidavit, and a statement
setting forth the circumstances of capture and robbery, which was fully
explained to them by their interpreter.
This document the chiefs representing the different bands signed
readily. It is inserted elsewhere, with other documents corroborative
of the truth of this narrative. It is also signed by another
delegation of chiefs I met in New York.
With this last interview with the delegation of Indians I met in New
York ends, I trust forever, my experience with Indians. The preparation
of the manuscript for this plain, simple narrative of facts in my
experience, has not been without its pangs. It has seemed, while
writing it, as if with the narration of each incident, I was living
over again the fearful life I led while a captive; and often have I
laid aside the pen to get rid of the feelings which possessed me. But
my task is completed; and with the ending of this chapter, I hope to
lay aside forever all regretful remembrances of my captivity, and,
looking only at the silvery lining to be found in every cloud, enjoy
the happiness which every one may find in child-like trust in Him who
ordereth all things well.