THE PEACE PIPE AT LARAMIE
Leaving the fossil beds, a six-mile tramp was made to a point beyond
Fort Mitchell, where the train was reached. The course lay across a dry
clay land which, though in appearance hopelessly sterile, was dotted
with small clumps of sage brush, that ubiquitous bush which grows almost
everywhere in those western alkaline soils both on the plains and on the
mountain slopes. Useless as that gnarly, stubby, stunted shrub may seem
to be, it has been the salvation of thousands of travelers for whom it
furnished the exclusive fuel along hundreds of miles of their
pilgrimage. The scant foliage of this species of _Artemisia_ has a
color, taste, and odor similar to that of the ordinary sage, and all of
these qualities especially the flavor, were imparted in some degree to
the sage hens, which fed in numbers upon the plant.
At Fort Mitchell there was stationed a company of soldiers to impress
upon the Indians the idea that the strong military arm of the U. S.
Government extended over the West. As we learned later, three score
soldiers were but a feeble menace to the thousands of dissatisfied
warriors, who were then roaming over the plains, awaiting some assurance
from our authorities that the last of their ancient hunting grounds
would not be invaded and traversed by the whites.
Eight miles further on we camped for the night on the banks of the North
Platte River, where, finding clear water and good forage for stock, we
planned a day of rest. Near that point first loomed upon our view in the
west the dark summits of Laramie Peak and the serrated line of jagged
pinnacles in the less prominent range beyond. No snow was visible upon
them, and the somber mountain pines presented but little contrast to the
shadowy gorges, while the peaks like "splinters of the mountain chain
stood black against the sky."
Crossing Horse-Shoe Creek, our trail led us at once into what was then
Dakota Territory, but which in 1868 became Wyoming Territory, and in
July, 1890, the State of Wyoming. This state has now become renowned as
a grand museum of Nature's wonders, and possibly presents the most
numerous and remarkable varieties of interesting scenery and freaks of
Nature, known to exist anywhere.
Its lofty mountain chains and matchless canyons; its spectacular geysers
and fountains of unending diversity in quality, and every degree of
temperature from boiling springs to those which are said to produce ice
by chemical processes; its beautiful mountain lakes and magnificent
cataracts, all combine to make it a land of marvels. All these forms of
Nature's works I have seen in camp life in Wyoming.
Possibly because of its location and the abundance of its game, it
became the final stronghold of the Indians. Its entire white population,
at the time of my first visit, was probably exceeded by thousands of
western villages, and but a small percentage of the number were women.
There were enough of the latter, however, to secure the adoption of
woman's suffrage by the first legislative assembly of the state, and
social conditions then gave rise to the oft-repeated couplet,
"Baby, baby, don't get in a fury,
Your mamma's gone to sit on the jury."
As indicating that the spirit of woman's freedom was in the very
atmosphere of that country long before her rights were established by
legislative enactment, I state it as a fact that our first camp in that
territory was made near a pool of alkaline water, in which each member
of our party personally and simultaneously laundered his flannels and
silk handkerchiefs, a purification that was greatly needed.
It was an inspiring if not "a sublime sight," to see eight stalwart men
diligently scrub their garments in the margin of the pool, and hang them
to dry upon the stiff branches of the sage bushes in that bright, pure
sunlight. The pool proved to be the home of insect life, for the early
evening brought myriads of "fair insects ... with thread-like legs
spread out, and blood-extracting bill and filmy wing," which tortured us
until the morning dawned, when we decided to move onward, and fly
possibly to other evils that we knew not of.
As we moved further westward, the scenery became more attractive and
many objects of interest invited our attention. Among these was an
apparently newly-made grave in the shade of two small and lonely trees.
The earthly journey of some unfortunate traveler had been ended before
it was really completed. Such a discovery will cause even the most
careless wayfarer to pause and think at least for a moment on the great
problems of life and death, and otherwise ponder much more than he
would among a thousand graves in a potter's field. I soon noticed a card
high up in the trunk of one of the trees and fastened to it by a rusty
horseshoe nail. I immediately called some of the boys to see it. Upon
the uncolored face of the card was printed a black figure somewhat
Egyptian in outline. One after another of our party upon inspection
failed to understand the significance or relevancy of the cabalistic
design. Pete from a distance at once declared that it was a Jack of
Spades, which in fact it was, but others were deciphering a somewhat
faded epitaph written upon the margin with a lead pencil, which finally
read as follows:
"He played his last trump and lost."
What could have been the meaning of this occult sentence? I think it was
a soldier who informed us that a man had been killed there in a fight,
and that was all the soldier knew of the matter, except that the man had
been appropriately epitaphed. There was no coroner or court of justice
in those parts, and every man in that country seemed to be a law unto
himself. The period of the Vigilantes was hardly yet in its bloom in
Wyoming, but it is interesting to hear described the manner in which
justice was summarily administered by a self-appointed tribunal, which
also assumed the functions of executioner. There was little complaint of
the law's delays in Wyoming, and the defendant did not suffer the
embarrassment of being conducted through a gaping throng to a lofty
gallows. The nearest tree served the purpose. There would be no time to
issue tickets, and the charge was more likely to be horse stealing than
any other crime. Still, it was true that deadly encounters were often
the result of quarrels over unimportant matters. It seems difficult to
pass judgment upon the acts of vigorous men who, having but little
self-restraint, are freed from the restraints of law. Behind the bravado
and the readiness to pull a gun on the slightest provocation, there were
often noble and generous impulses which, when these men were merged into
a settled community, led many of them to become strong, law-abiding
citizens.
A few years later than the occurrence just narrated, I chanced to spend
a few days in Silverton, Colorado, when that town was in the first flush
of its mining successes. As I was walking along the street one Sabbath
afternoon with an old boyhood friend, Judge Montague, we passed a large
and very busy gambling saloon. Its entire one-story front was wide open
to the street. Scores of men were at the tables playing cards, and the
long bar near the front was crowded with patrons. The Judge, calling me
as usual by my old nickname, said, "I will tell you a story of this
saloon," and he proceeded as follows:
"A short time ago a home missionary, Rev. Mr. P----, came to Silverton,
and having learned that I had been a church attendant in the East, he
called upon me, and asked if I would give him some assistance that would
aid him in the establishment of a church in this mining town." Having
explained the character of the community, the Judge said to the
missionary, "If you will go where I shall take you, I will see what can
be done." There was then no house of worship in Silverton. The
missionary promptly assented. "Then," continued the Judge, "I led him at
once into this gambling house and up to the bar. Calling for the
proprietor, I introduced the missionary and said, 'You know we have no
church in Silverton and Rev. P---- desires to help us raise some money
to apply toward the building of one.' 'No church in Silverton?' shouted
the saloon proprietor, with apparent disgust. 'No,' I replied, 'not
one!' Then with a series of oaths, vigorously emphasized by a blow of
his fist upon the bar, which made the minister tremble, he declared that
it was a d----d shame and showed a lack of enterprise. He added, 'If we
are ever going to have a first-class town we've got to have everything
that's a-going. Ye want something out of me?' 'Yes,' I replied, 'we
should be pleased to have you head the subscription list, and I thought
that about two hundred dollars would be about right for your place.' The
young missionary gulped and held his breath. 'All right,' said the
proprietor, as he inscribed his name on the paper, 'we've got to have
everything that's a-goin' if we have any kind of a town. Now what'll you
have with me, gentlemen?' as he firmly slammed upon the counter two or
three bottles, 'and, by the way, I've got a little good, old whiskey
here made before the war, that I keep back for my friends.'"
In following up the history of the little Congregational Church, the
genesis of which was in the heart of a missionary, at the bar of a
gambler, it may be of interest to relate an incident that seems quite
grotesque and further illustrates the strange blending of extremes in
the characters of the West. A young minister, H. P. Roberts, was sent
later to the same Silverton work, and pending the construction of a new
church, services were held in a schoolhouse. On the last Christmas
previous to the transfer to the new edifice, some exercises were being
held for the children. Late in the evening there was sent to the
schoolhouse and hung upon the Christmas tree a woman's stocking sent as
a gift to the young minister by one Jim Brown, another notorious
saloon-keeper. On delivering to the minister the article of wearing
apparel, for which he apparently had no present need, it was found to
contain a pack of cards, a box of dice, and, what was greatly needed,
sixty silver dollars. It had been collected by Brown from members of his
profession as his voluntary act and expression of good will. Brown was
killed not long after by an old, one-armed marshal named Ward, who in
turn soon met the same fate. This incident is fully verified by a recent
letter from a pioneer woman who was a member of that church and was also
a witness to the event at the schoolhouse. The sixty dollars may have
been tainted money (if it is possible to taint a well-inspired
benefaction), but the act sheds a soft ray of light upon the life of a
man whose career and character were generally regarded as dark.
On the following day, after passing the grave by the two trees, we drove
thirteen miles. As we were slowly moving along in the afternoon over the
heavy sands and up a long but rather gentle slope, we suddenly observed
two wagons with mule teams approaching from the west, the animals being
driven at the top of their speed under the lash of the drivers. On
discovering us, the drivers motioned in an agitated manner toward Fred
and me who were riding on horseback, indicating that they wished us to
halt. We accordingly stopped the train and awaited their arrival. They
at once reported a large band of Indians approaching. Having seen the
Indians in the distance, the drivers had quickly turned their teams, and
were endeavoring to escape from possible trouble. We all deemed it
prudent to remain near where we were, and await the arrival of the band
which was reported to be following the trail. It soon began to appear
over the crest of the hill and much to our satisfaction was evidently
not a war party. It was an Indian village on horseback, consisting of
several hundred Sioux with their families and the ordinary equipment of
Indian lodges, which were being transported upon several hundred horses
and ponies. There is ordinarily little to fear from such a body, as
Indians are not inclined to make trouble when there is danger to their
wives and papooses, although the average Indian squaw doubtless shared
the passion of her chief in time of war and was accustomed to strife and
bloodshed.
In many of their battles, when the prospect of an Indian victory seems
certain, the squaws and children are placed at some point of vantage, to
witness the sport and the tortures. This was notably true in the attack
of Roman Nose, with one thousand warriors, on Forsythe's little band on
the so-called Island of Death in the Arrikaree River, in that year. The
squaws took a safe position on the bluffs, as did the matrons in the
days of Rome's glory, when they witnessed the brutal contests in the
Coliseum.
We had courteously driven out a short distance from the trail to give
the Indians a free passage. Our horses seemed not pleased with the
appearance of the strange cavalcade, for they reared and plunged in an
effort to escape. Hitching our saddle horses to wagons, Ben, Fred and I
stopped close to the trail, and each of us courteously and fearlessly as
possible saluted one after another of this band as they passed, with the
familiar word, "How." Not even a grunt or motion came in return for our
salutation. Their eyes were turned toward us as they passed, but, to use
a society phrase, they cut us and turned us down. All appeared to be
glum, sullen and disgruntled, and we were happy to see them move on at a
steady pace.
In this Indian train there was possibly material for a hundred lodges.
The lodge poles were carried on the backs of ponies, an equal number on
either side, the large end of the pole dragging far behind upon the
ground. In many cases a little hammock-like affair, suspended between
the poles behind a pony, carried a papoose, whose unshaded face looked
up toward the glaring sun. Other ponies were loaded with camp material
of varied kinds, on top of which in some cases were squaws and children.
All the men and nearly all the squaws were mounted. There was an
excellent opportunity to observe the faces of all who passed, although
there was little to be learned from their expressions concerning any of
their emotions, for they were solemn and undemonstrative. It required a
long time for all to pass, for they did not move in a compact body but
were generally in single file, except that here and there some young
warrior rode beside a tawny maiden. There was no hostile demonstration,
nor did they pause a single moment on their onward march.
On the following morning, while riding our horses over a slight
elevation, we came in sight of the swollen current of the Laramie River,
which rushed into view from around some highlands not far away at our
left; its swiftly flowing waters plunged along before us and onward into
those of the North Platte not more than a mile away at our right.
The first view of the scene spread out before us across the river
aroused our profound interest, chiefly because the consideration of some
very grave questions had caused a large and unusual gathering of
warriors to be assembled there, whose conclusions would result either in
peace or savage, bloody war. Directly in front of us, and near the
opposite bank of the stream, stood the historic old post, Fort Laramie.
It consisted of the usual plaza, or parade ground, in the form of a
parallelogram, equal in size to an average city block. On each of its
four sides were buildings, some of which were two stories in height,
some of but one story. It could be clearly seen that of the twenty-five
or thirty structures around the square, some were built of logs, others
of adobe, and a few were framed.
To the right of these, and wholly removed from the square, were seven or
eight long and low buildings each of which we learned later, was used
for one of the various trades of carpentry, blacksmithing, horseshoeing,
etc., and for quartermasters' supplies. Seemingly not more than
three-fourths of a mile beyond the river, a steep but smooth-surfaced
bank rose rather abruptly several hundred feet from the river valley to
what appeared to be a rough and rocky table-land. Toward our right and
up the least abrupt and lowest part of the table-land, were clearly seen
the lines of the Oregon trail leading on westward from Laramie over the
hills to the Platte River Valley beyond. Somewhat to the left and
towering far beyond and above the crest of the high, barren, and
treeless table-land, rose Laramie Peak.
All these were then of interest simply as being the framework of the
striking picture that lay in the foreground. Extending out to the
further margin of the valley beyond the post, also to the right and the
left of it on the plain was a city of Indian lodges, each of which stood
out a white cone surmounted by its fringe of projecting lodge poles. The
lodges appeared to be centered into groups or villages. Parties of
Indians, a few only mounted, could be seen in many of the open places.
A flagstaff from which floated our national colors rose from near a
corner of the rectangle which indicated the local seat of authority and
the quarters for the regimental band.
The river, which was between us and the Fort, was swollen by a flood.
It seemed important, however, that we should visit the post and learn as
much as possible concerning the pending negotiations with the tribes.
Ben, Fred, Pete, and I, therefore, decided to swim the river on horses.
The current was exceedingly swift and deep, but though it carried us
down stream a long distance, we reached the western bank without serious
difficulty. We then wondered how our train would cross. On reaching the
post we at once entered the quadrangle and for a few moments watched the
movements which were passing before us in that place, which from the
beginning of its history had been the most important center for
intercourse between the Indians and whites that existed in our country.
It was first established in 1834 by Mr. Robert Campbell, a successful
fur trader and merchant, whom I have often seen; and as stated by
Larpenteur, the river and the post were named in memory of Joaques La
Ramie, a French trapper said to have been killed on that stream by the
Arapahoes.
The post was purchased in 1849 by the U. S. Government and materially
remodeled then, as it has also been since. There was no real
fortification to be found at Fort Laramie. A few soldiers were on parade
and others were visible around the barracks. We immediately went to
headquarters and held interviews with various officials. We were
informed that more than 7,000 Indians, consisting of bands of Ogallala
and Minnecongoux Sioux, also Cheyennes and Arapahoes, and a few Mountain
Crows who were interested in the question at issue, had assembled to
participate in the proposed treaty. The officers informed us that the
main object to be sought by the Government was the opening of the new
route from Fort Laramie to Montana via the head waters of Powder and Big
Horn Rivers. The Indians objected to any travel through that country,
which was their most valuable hunting ground.
We also learned with pleasure that there was a bridge further down the
stream, of which we had not known. We re-crossed the river by swimming
our horses. Hitching our teams, we drove to the bridge and after paying
three dollars toll for each wagon, crossed upon it and camped on the
Platte River bottoms, near the junction of the Laramie and North Platte.
The day had been intensely hot, the mercury at the post registering 98
degrees.
Although we had not learned how soon we should be permitted to proceed
on our journey, it seemed proper that we should further investigate the
progress of affairs and ascertain what was the prospect for peace. We,
therefore, again entered the reservation and now interviewed Mr. Seth
Ward, who was said to be the best informed man concerning those matters
to be found at Laramie. This idea seemed to be quite reasonable, because
the military was supposed to be in a sense partisan. We modestly
approached the pompous Mr. Ward, who we were told was the sutler. He
wore fine clothes, and a soft, easy hat. A huge diamond glittered in his
shirt front. He moved quietly round as if he were master of the
situation, and with that peculiar air so often affected by men who are
financially prosperous and self-satisfied. He seemed to be a good fellow
and was in every respect courteous. He assured us that the Indians would
be "handled all right" and that there need be no fear of further
trouble.
As a business proposition, it was manifestly to the advantage of the
sutler and agents that some treaty be made, for the reason that every
Indian treaty involves the giving of many presents and other valuable
considerations. Whatever the Indians may finally receive become articles
of exchange in trade. In this the astute sutler profits largely, as the
Indian has little knowledge of the intrinsic value of manufactured goods
and the sutler enjoyed exclusive rights of traffic with them at the
posts. On the other hand, the soldiers and many others expressed the
opinion that no satisfactory agreement would be reached. The demand of
the Government as declared to the writer by Colonel, now General H. B.
Carrington, was that it should have the right to establish one or more
military posts on that road in the country in question. All the Indians
occupying that territory were refusing to accept the terms, saying that
it was asking too much of their people, in fact it was asking all they
had, and it would drive away their game.
While these negotiations were going on with Red Cloud and the leading
chiefs, to induce them to yield to the Government the right to establish
the military posts, Colonel Carrington arrived at Laramie with about 700
officers and men of the 18th U. S. Infantry. Carrington was then already
_en route_ to the Powder River country, to build and occupy the proposed
military posts along the Montana road, pursuant to orders from
headquarters of the Department of the Missouri, Major General Pope
commanding.
The destination and purpose of Colonel Carrington were communicated to
the chiefs, who recognized this action on the part of the Government as
a determination on its part to occupy the territory regardless of any
agreement. Red Cloud and his followers spurned the offers which were
made for their birthright and indignantly left the reservation to defend
their hunting grounds, and as we then believed and learned later, went
immediately on the war path. As stated in the Government reports, they
"at once commenced a relentless war against all whites, both citizens
and soldiers." The great Chief, Red Cloud, and his followers were now no
longer a party to the negotiations, but thousands of other warriors and
chiefs were induced to remain.
We later strolled out among the buffalo skin lodges and among the many
warriors who were grouped here and there on the level land around the
post. The faces of the older Red Men, who still remained, clearly
indicated dissatisfaction and defiance.
"And they stood there on the meadow
With their weapons and their war gear
Painted like the leaves of autumn,
Painted like the sky of morning,
Wildly glaring at each other;
In their faces stern defiance,
In their hearts the feud of ages,
The hereditary hatred,
The ancestral thirst of vengeance."
It appeared finally that in the determination to make some kind of
treaty the commissioner brought into council a large number of chiefs,
but as the information came to us, they were from bands that did not
occupy any part of the country along the route in question. Some of
these had resided near Fort Laramie; others, the Brule Sioux, occupied
the White Earth River valley; and still others were from along the
tributaries of the Kansas River. These bands having no immediate
interest in the hunting grounds to the north, were induced to
become parties to a treaty. The proceedings so far as concerns the
representatives of the Government, seem to have been undignified and
unworthy of a great nation. The conclusion of a treaty of peace with
these bands, who could not represent the Northern tribes, seemed a
farce. The military arm of the Government was in no sense a party to the
agreement, their function being solely to protect the whites to the best
of their ability. The force at the command of Colonel Carrington was
wholly inadequate for this duty. Larpenteur, who appears to have
attended many Indian treaties, cites the Laramie treaty of 1851 as one
of many in which speculation became the motive for its consummation. The
ostensible purpose of that treaty was to accomplish a general peace
between all the tribes on the Missouri and Platte Rivers. For that
purpose two or three chiefs of each tribe were invited to that treaty.
The agents must have known well that the other bands could not be held
responsible according to Indian usage when not represented. The fact is
stated that the Indians on their return fought with each other before
they reached their home, and these dissensions were promptly followed by
renewed warfare against the whites.
The treaty of 1866, at which we were present, such as it was, having
been concluded by the chiefs of the thousand Indians who remained, the
coveted presents were distributed. In a few hours more the friendly
camps were ablaze with mounted Indians decked in yellow, red, and other
brilliantly colored cheap fabrics flying in the winds. To their simple
tastes these tawdry stuffs were more attractive than diamonds. Gilded
jewelry was received by them in exchange for articles of real value. We
were informed that they received firearms and ammunition, which they
greatly prize, but this statement is not made from my personal
knowledge.
On one afternoon we were present at what we understood was the council
or peace gathering of the bands that had become parties to the treaty.
It was apparently necessary that these bands should act somewhat in
harmony, and an Indian ratification meeting was quite appropriate. The
chiefs and head men, sixty or seventy in number, were seated upon
buffalo skins spread upon the ground in a great circle, and behind them
in groups stood leading warriors. Among these we were informed were
Swift Bear, Spotted Tail, Big Mouth, Standing Elk, and Two Strikes. At
the head of the line was a chief apparently much advanced in years,
wearing a medal suspended by a leather cord around his neck; his name I
am unable to give. The exposed side of the medal bore the insignia of
two pipes crossed. During the solemn ceremony about to be performed it
hardly seemed proper to scrutinize too closely these emblems of
authority, but one of the boys stated he could read the words "James
Madison" upon the medal. It was evidently a medal presented at some
former treaty and upon it was inscribed the name of the "great father"
at Washington.
Treaties were made, according to Government reports, during the
administration of Madison in 1816 with the Sioux of the Leaf, the Sioux
of the Pine Tops, the Sioux of the River, and other tribes, and this
aged chief was doubtless a party to one of these convocations.
While all was silent at the Laramie ceremony that we witnessed, there
was handed to this old chief, by a pipe-bearer, with some flourishes
which we did not understand, the calumet, a beautiful redstone pipe
having a long stem. It was already lighted. Slowly passing the peace
pipe to his lips in a serious, dignified manner and with no expression
upon his face that could be interpreted, the old chief took from it two
or three long drafts with marked intervals between them, and hardly
turning his head passed it to the chief who sat at his right, who
repeated the ceremony. It was in this manner conveyed from one to
another until the circle was completed. The participation in this
ceremony doubtless was understood as a pledge of amity between those
engaged in it, and as a confirmation of a mutual agreement concerning
the matters before them.
It is a fact quite generally recognized by observers of the Indians that
there is no custom more universal or more highly valued by the Indian
than that of smoking. The pipe is his companion in council; through it
he pledges his friends; and with his tomahawk it has its place by him in
his grave as his companion in the happy hunting grounds beyond. It is,
therefore, not strange that the pipe should be a type of their best
handiwork. As stated by Catlin, the red pipe-stone from which all
existing specimens of Indian pipes appear to have been made, was
obtained from the Pipestone quarry in Minnesota on the dividing ridge
between the St. Peters and Missouri Rivers. It was named Catlinite on
account of its discovery by George Catlin, the eminent writer and
artist, who made it the object of protracted research. Until recent
years the quarries have been held as sacred and as neutral ground by the
various tribes. It was there, according to Indian tradition, fully
described in early records, that the Great Spirit called the Indian
nations together and standing upon a precipice of the red pipe rock
broke from its wall a piece from which he made a huge pipe. The spirit
told them that they must use this rock for their pipes of peace, that it
belonged to them all and that the war club must never be lifted on its
ground. At the last whiff of his pipe the head of the spirit went into
a great cloud, and the whole surface of the rock in a radius of several
miles was melted and glazed. The legend, with others which, according to
early records, have been treasured by the Indians, was taken by
Longfellow to form the first picture in his _Hiawatha_.
Silliman's _Journal of Science_ (Vol. XXXVII, page 394,) gives an
analysis of Red Pipestone. It is pronounced to be a mineral compound
(and not steatite), is harder than gypsum, and softer than carbonate of
lime. Specimens bear as high a luster and polish as melted glass.
It may be of interest to the reader to know more of the ends sought by
these treaties, also more concerning the contracting parties. In
separate treaties, all of the same tenor and made in October, 1865, with
various tribes of Sioux, those Indians promised to be very good and to
maintain peaceful relations with the whites. In consideration therefor
the U. S. Government promised to pay to each family or lodge the sum of
$25.00, payable annually for a stated period, also to distribute to the
widow and the seventeen children of Ish-tah-cha-ne-aha the sum of five
hundred dollars, said friendly chief having been slain by U. S.
soldiers.
To one of these instruments were affixed the signatures of the following
eminent warriors, whose names are given in the form in which they
appeared on one of the documents,--the translation also being written as
shown.
Cha-tan-ska, The White Chief, His Mark
E-to-kee-ah, The Hump, His Mark
Shon-ta-kee-desh-kar, The Spotted Bear Chief, His Mark
Mah-to-to-pah, The Four Bears, His Mark
Chan-tay-o-me-ne-o-me-me, The Whirling Heart, His Mark
Mah-to-a-chachah, The Bear that is Like Him, His Mark
Taa-hoo-ka-zah-nom-put, The Two Lances, His Mark
There were also attached fourteen other names with the signatures of the
Commissioners of the United States.
[Illustration: THE OLD COMPANY QUARTERS AT FORT LARAMIE]
In April and May, 1868, treaties were finally concluded at Fort Laramie
with the Brule, Ogallala, and other Sioux, also the Arapahoes and Crows,
and were signed by scores of their chiefs and head men; General W. T.
Sherman, also Generals Harvey, Terry, and Auger acting on behalf of the
U. S. Government.