of age he accompanied his family westward to Council Bluffs, and a
little later across the Missouri River into Nebraska. At about this
time, his father, who was a surveyor, was lost in a snow storm, and
the responsibility of caring for his family fell in large measure on
the boy. Soon after this he obtained employment as clerk in the
trader's store at the Pawnee agency, and thus made the acquaintance of
the tribe. His strong character early brought him to the notice of
their principal men, and almost before attaining manhood he had become
a person of influence in the councils of the Pawnee Nation.
In the year 1864 Frank North was authorized to enlist a company of
Pawnee scouts to be employed against the bands of hostile Indians,
whose depredations were at that time becoming very troublesome. The
command was organized that autumn, and did some service along the old
emigrant trail. It was not until the summer of 1865, however, that it
saw any serious fighting. In that year General Connor of California
commanded a large expedition to the Powder River country, and the
Pawnee scouts accompanied him and rendered brilliant service.
Later, during the building of the Union Pacific Railway, the
depredations of the hostile Sioux, Cheyennes and Arapahoes became so
serious along the line of the road that the Government authorized Mr.
North to enlist a battalion of scouts from the Pawnee Nation, and
offered him the command with the rank of major. Several companies of
these scouts were so enlisted, and for years the battalion did good
service on the plains and in the mountains in Nebraska, Kansas and
Wyoming, serving under Generals Auger, Emory, Carr, Royal, Mackenzie
and Crook, some of the most successful Indian fighters in that
Department. The Pawnee scouts were everywhere, and at all times brave
men, good soldiers and victorious warriors. The amount of property
saved to the Government, the settlers and the railroad through the
efforts of Major North's command can scarcely be computed. In all his
service of almost constant fighting, extending over a period of more
than ten years, he never lost a man on the battle field, and this
caused him to be regarded by the Pawnees as divinely favored.
It is impossible within the limits of a few pages to give even a
sketch of the services performed by Frank North and his scouts. Two or
three isolated episodes in his career will show something of the
constant danger and hardship of the life he led, and of the courage,
coolness and determination of the leader and his men.
Such an episode, memorable alike for its danger, the completeness of
the victory gained, and the fact that it won for him the title by
which he was ever after known among the Pawnees, marked his first
campaign. It was in the Powder River country, and Captain North had
started with a detachment of his scouts in pursuit of a party of
Indians, whose trail he had found. For some weeks his men had been
hard worked; and at this time their horses were so jaded that although
they had come within sight of the Cheyennes, they were unable to
overtake them and force them to a fight. Captain North, who was
mounted on a fresh horse, rode far ahead of his men, who were
constantly falling further and further behind. At length, realizing
the futility of continuing the pursuit, North dismounted, fired a
parting shot at the Indians, and was about to ride back toward camp,
when the fleeing Cheyennes, about twenty-five in number, turned and
charged him. He then discovered that he had outridden all his men. Not
one of them was in sight. Hastily dismounting, he prepared to receive
the enemy, and firing as they advanced killed one. The rest sheered
off, and rode out of rifle shot, and then formed again for another
charge. Feeling for a cartridge to reload his rifle, North made the
startling discovery that he had but three left, all the others having
been lost during his rapid ride. He found, too, that his horse had
been wounded by a ball from the Cheyennes, and was in no condition for
running; indeed, it could not be ridden. His situation seemed well
nigh hopeless, but he prepared to make the best of it, by retreating
on foot, leading his wounded horse as a shelter, from behind which to
fight. When the Cheyennes charged him he would face about, raise his
gun to his shoulder, as if about to fire, and the Indians, who had
already tasted the quality of his lead, would drop down behind their
horses, and sheer off, never coming so close to him as to make it
necessary for him to use one of his precious cartridges. After a long
weary walk of twelve or fifteen miles, during which his moccasin-shod
feet were cruelly lacerated by the thorns of the cactus, over which he
walked, his pursuers left him, and he reached his command in safety.
No sooner had he arrived at the camp than, taking a fresh horse and
ordering out a well-mounted detachment of his men, he set out in
pursuit of the enemy. All that afternoon they rode hard, and when
night fell, dismounting a couple of Pawnees to follow the trail on
foot, the pursuit was still kept up. Just after daylight, as they rode
out into a little park in the mountains, a tiny column of blue smoke
rising from a clump of cottonwood trees showed where the hostiles were
camped. The Pawnees rode steadily forward in double file in military
fashion; and the Cheyennes, supposing that they were white soldiers,
jumped on their horses and rode out on to the open hillside where they
formed a line of battle to meet the enemy. The Pawnees rode quietly
onward until they were quite near the Cheyennes, and then loud and
clear their ringing war whoop broke out upon the morning air. When the
Cheyennes heard this war-cry, which told them that the attacking party
were Pawnees, their hearts became like water, and they turned and
fled. Already, however, seven of their number had fallen before the
Pawnee bullets, and the fresher horses of the Pawnees easily overtook
the tired ones ridden by the pursued. Of that party of Cheyennes not
one escaped, and with twenty-seven scalps, and all the plunder, the
victorious Pawnees returned that afternoon to their command.
Among the captured property were thirty-five horses and mules, some of
which had been taken from a party of fifteen soldiers, killed to a man
by these Cheyennes but a few days before; there were also the scalps
of these soldiers, and wearing apparel belonging to white women and
children, which justified the belief that they had recently massacred
a party of emigrants.
It was on the occasion of the scalp dance which followed this victory,
and when the Scouts were changing their names, as was the custom after
a successful encounter with the enemy, that the Pawnees gave to Major
North the title _Pa´-ni Le-shar_ (Chief of the Pawnees), a name which
has been borne by only one other white man, General John C. Fremont,
the Pathfinder.
The story of the killing of Tall Bull, and the fight with Turkey Leg's
band of Sioux, illustrate the readiness and the daring of Major North
in battle. Tall Bull was a chief who commanded a large village of
renegade Sioux and Cheyennes, who had given great trouble by their
depredations. Major North, with his Pawnees and some white United
States troops, had been looking for this village for some time, and at
length succeeded in surprising it near Summit Springs. The village was
captured in the charge and many of the hostiles killed. Others fled or
concealed themselves in the ravines and washouts, which seamed the
prairie, and made a desperate fight. The Pawnees were scattered about
in little parties, killing the Indians thus concealed, when Major
North and his brother came riding rapidly along, side by side, over
the open prairie. They had approached within fifty or sixty yards of a
narrow steep-walled ravine, of the existence of which they were
ignorant, when an Indian raised his head above its side and fired. The
ball whistled between the heads of the two riders; Major North threw
up his hands and reeled in the saddle as if about to fall, and the
Indian's head disappeared from sight. Springing from his horse, the
Major handed his bridle rein to his brother and directed him to ride
away at a gallop. The tramp of the two horses sounded more and more
faintly on the hard ground, and the Indian, thinking that the whites
were riding off, raised his head to note the effect of his shot.
North's rifle was already leveled at the spot where the head had
disappeared, and as the black hair came into view the finger pressed
the trigger more and more closely, and as the eyes appeared above the
ground, a ball pierced the brain of Tall Bull. A hundred yards up the
ravine was found his war pony, stabbed to the heart, and by it sat his
squaw, awaiting with Indian patience whatever fate might come to her.
During one of the summer hunts, on which Major North accompanied the
Pawnees, they were one day scattered out over the prairie running
buffalo, when all at once North heard the whistle of rifle balls and
saw the dirt thrown up about his horse by the bullets. He called to a
Pawnee near him to tell those boys to be more careful about shooting.
The Pawnee looked in the direction from which the balls were coming,
and after an instant called back, "They are Sioux, you had better
run." It was a large party of Sioux under the Chief Turkey Leg.
North and the Pawnee rode for the bluffs near at hand, and before
reaching them were joined by C. D. Morse, his brother-in-law, and half
a dozen Pawnees. The little party was surrounded by the Sioux and took
refuge in a shallow washout at the head of a ravine, where they were
somewhat sheltered from the enemy's fire by the sunflower stalks and
the low edges of the bank. Their horses were at once killed, and the
Sioux, who were numerous, became very bold, charging up to the edge of
the washout, and shooting down into it.
They were led by an Indian, apparently of some importance, who was
conspicuous by a large American flag which he carried. This man was
constantly exhorting his men, and would lead them part way on the
charge, turning off, however, before coming within range of the
washout, where North and his brother-in-law, with the seven Pawnees,
were lying concealed. After each charge he would ride to the top of a
hill near at hand, and make a speech to his warriors. It occurred to
Major North that if he could kill the man who carried the flag the
other Sioux might lose some of their courage. As they were retiring
from a charge, therefore, he crept cautiously down the ravine,
concealed by the long grass which grew in its bed, until he had come
within rifle range of the hill from which the leader was making his
speech, and by a careful shot killed him and regained the shelter of
the washout without injury.
Disheartened by the fall of their leader, the Sioux made no further
attempt to kill the besieged company, but after a little desultory
long-range firing drew off, so that North and his little party
regained the main village in safety.
The Pawnee Scouts were last called out in 1876, when General Mackenzie
fought the hostile Cheyennes in the Powder River country; and, led by
Major North and his brother, they made that famous charge on the
village which inflicted on the hostiles the crushing blow from which
they never recovered. How _Pa´-ni Le-shar_ held his men under fire
that day, when the bullets were raining on them from the hillsides,
was told in a letter written to me by a participant in the fight. "For
cool bravery," it ran, "he beats anything that you ever saw. Why, at
one time we were under such hot fire that even our scouts wanted to
run, and to tell you the truth, I felt sort of that way myself; but
Frank just straightened himself up on the old black horse and said,
very quietly, 'The first one of _my_ men that runs I will kill.' They
didn't run."
If the full story of Major North's life were written it would
constitute a history of the Indian wars in Nebraska and Wyoming from
1860 to 1876--a history so complete that there would be little left to
add to it. Wherever the hostile Indians were worst there Frank North
was to be found at the head of his Pawnee Scouts, doing the hardest of
the fighting, and accomplishing work that could have been done by no
other body of men.
From his long service in the army Major North was known to all
officers who have ever been stationed in the field where his
operations were conducted, and by all of them he was admired and
respected. He was closely connected with the growth of the State of
Nebraska. Several times he represented Platte county in the
Legislature, and the strength and uprightness of his character won the
confidence of all who knew him. He died at his home in Columbus,
Nebraska, March 14, 1885, aged forty-five years.
His was a singularly lovable nature. If the stronger manly points of
his character inspired respect and admiration, not less did his
gentleness and consideration for others win the deepest affection. He
was modest almost to diffidence, and it was with difficulty that he
could be induced to speak of his own heroic achievements. And yet his
face told the story of the power within the man.
The secret of Major North's success in commanding the Pawnees, who
loved him as much as they respected him, lay in the unvarying
firmness, justice, patience and kindness with which he treated them.
He never demanded anything unreasonable of them, but when he gave an
order, even though obedience involved great peril, or appeared to mean
certain death, it was a command that must be carried out. He was their
commander, but at the same time their brother and friend. Above all,
he was their leader. In going into battle he never said to them,
"Go," but always "Come on." It is little wonder, then, that the
devotion felt for him by all the Pawnee Nation, and especially by the
men who had served under him in battle, was as steadfast as it was
touching.
III. WAR PARTIES.
It has already been said that the highest ambition of the Pawnee young
man was to be successful in war. His whole training, all his
surroundings, caused him to believe that this success was the only
thing worth living for. Life at best he regarded as hard enough, and
only the fame to be acquired by the performance of brave deeds could
sweeten it so as to make it endurable. To convey a notion of the way
in which these war parties were originated, and of the manner in which
they were led, I give here stories told me by three brave men who in
the old days led out many war parties. The three stories were taken
down from the lips of the narrators. Only one who is familiar with
scenes in an Indian camp can conceive how much these stories lose by
being put into cold type. As heard from the lips of the Indian, they
have accessories of surroundings, voice and gesticulation, which add
tremendously to their vividness and their interest. Your Indian is a
real actor, and in telling a story he throws himself into his tale,
and helps out his vocal speech with a sign vocabulary which almost
tells the whole story to one who is ignorant of the language.
In the middle of the lodge the fire is burning, and over it hangs the
pot which is ever bubbling. At the back of the lodge, opposite the
doorway, sits the host, and above him to the lodge poles are tied the
sacred bundles, their buckskin coverings black with the smoke and wear
of years, perhaps of centuries. To the left of the host are the most
important guests, and the other inmates of the lodge are scattered
about here and there, the women being nearest the door. The host hands
the pipe to some young man, who carefully fills it, and soon it is
passing around the circle. Then a few remarks are made by the older
men, and some question is asked which starts discussion. After that
comes a pause, and then a middle-aged warrior begins a story. He is
They-know-that-Leader, and he tells how he took the horses:
"They tell me that my father was a warrior, and in his time led out
many war parties. In my young days I went out with war parties as a
volunteer many times.
"In my trips with warriors I had closely watched their ways and
movements. I had learned from them how to shoot and how to travel so
as to escape discovery. I made three trips as leader. I resolved one
time, just as we were setting out on the summer hunt, that during the
hunt I would lead a party off on the warpath. I made my plans, but I
waited first to make the sacrifice. At that time we did not go far; we
came back to the village because the Sioux were about us on the hunt.
"On a certain day I played all day the stick game
(_Satsa-wi-kah-tûsh_). In the afternoon I had lost everything I had.
Late in the afternoon I called a few of the young men to sit down with
me. When they had come and sat down with me, there were only a few. I
said to them, 'I have called you together to let you know that I am
poor in mind. I want to find out if _Ti-ra´-wa_ will take pity on me
and help me. I intend that you and I shall go off somewhere on the
warpath. Make your preparations to start in two days. Get your
moccasins filled with food, get your awls and sinews, your arrows and
your bows.'
"On the day I had set, in the night, we went out from the village,
having with us the old man who had performed the ceremonies of the
sacred things that I was to have with me. On the outskirts of the
village, we stood in a row, and the old man prayed for our success.
Then we were ready to start.
"Different war parties had gone out before I started, but I considered
to see if there was not some way in which I could beat them. I made a
plan by which I got ahead of them. We traveled fast, and went up to
Grand Island to get some arrows--for my young men had but few
arrows--and also to get some provisions. The next morning we again
started, and went as far as we could that day. At night I performed
ceremonies, as I had been directed. I filled a pipe and smoked to
_Ti-ra´-wa_, as we have always done. That is the first thing we have
to do. Then I told some of my young men to build a fire, and others to
go off to a distance to watch.
"On a war party some one was always taken along who could shoot well.
This time we had no one except myself. The next day I killed an
antelope, but I did not sacrifice then, because those are not animals
which we sacrifice. We had been gone three nights more before I
killed anything more. The fourth day I killed a buck deer, and I
sacrificed it. From that day on I never killed anything.
"After I had been out nine days I stole the horses. It was not always
the same about stealing horses. It was not always done in the same
way. It was daytime when my scouts discovered that there were people
about; they saw signs of a village. They told me afterward that they
had heard reports of guns during the day. They had not come back to
tell me of this, but had gone by. I was coming on behind with the
young men, when all at once I heard the report of a gun. As soon as I
heard it I stopped, and sent two spies out to see what it was, and
whether a camp was near. They wandered about in the timber, and came
back and said that they saw nothing. I told my men that we would go
off to a distance and wait there during the night. We waited there
until morning, and when the sun got up we heard the report of guns in
different directions, and sometimes coming toward us. We went to a
cañon, and hid in the plum brush, and ate plums. Of course we were
afraid, but we ate the plums. We thought that this might be the last
time we would ever have any plums. They were shooting all about us,
and seemed to be coming closer. In the afternoon, the shots stopped,
and they went on to their camp.
"While we were hiding here, many of the party feared that we had been
seen. They wanted to start back as soon as it grew dark, but I
deceived them. I told them that I was very thirsty, and that we would
have to go down to a certain place near the river, and get a drink of
water. After night we started, and as we were going along, we heard a
dog bark. We stopped and sat down, and I told my companions that two
men, whom I called by name, were to go and steal horses. 'But,' I
said, 'I am going with them to look after them.' I told them to pull
off their leggings and moccasins, because the brush was dry and caught
on them, making a noise. We went together to a certain place near the
village, and then these young men told me that they had been there the
day before and had been discovered. Then they turned around and went
back to where the party were hiding, but I went on to the village.
"When I came close to the village everything was still; the people
were asleep. Where I entered the camp, there was a little timber
growing, and here I stopped. While I was considering what I should do,
a girl came out of a lodge, but she went away from me. If she had
come toward me I should have killed her, for she would have discovered
me. After the girl had entered a lodge, I went into the camp to where
there were some horses. I drove them out of the camp. Six went back,
and I drove nine to where I had left my party. The two that I had
ordered to steal horses for me were there. When I came to the place,
and found all my men there, I said to them, 'This is very good. I have
stolen some horses for you. Now I will go back and get the rest of
them for you.' One of the other men persuaded me not to go again, but
to let him go. He did so, and brought the six other horses.
"It was the custom, if it was very difficult or dangerous to go to a
place to steal horses, for the leader himself to go and do the work.
"After two nights on the return journey I divided the horses among the
men. It used to be the custom after a party had been successful and
brought back the horses for them to change their names. After this
trip my name was changed to 'They-know-that-Leader.' It was the custom
among the Pawnees if they brought in horses to make an offering. We
felt that we owed something to _Ti-ra´-wa_, and we gave a horse to the
priest, the old man who had performed the ceremonies. I was gone but
thirteen days, and returned to my tribe."
* * * * *
After him follows _A-ka-pa-kish_--Pities-the-Poor. He, too, tells his
story, and explains why one of his war parties was unsuccessful:
"My father told me, if I should ever want to go off on a war party, to
humble myself, and not to let a day pass without praying to
_Ti-ra´-wa_ by my smokes. I must always remember to pray to
_Ti-ra´-wa_ to give me a strong will, and to encourage and bless me in
my worship to him. Even when I was eating I must always remember to
pray to him. This I must do for some time before starting out.
"At one time I felt that I was poor, and I resolved to go off on the
warpath. A warrior, whom I knew, went out and took a lot of horses. He
had been as poor as I. I believed that this man had got his horses
because he had prayed to _Ti-ra´-wa_, and I thought, 'If I pray to
_Ti-ra´-wa_, why may I not do the same.' So I prayed. No one else knew
what I intended. After I had made up my mind, I selected another man,
one whom I could trust, and called him to tell him of my resolve. I
made him sit by me in the lodge, and said to him, 'I want you to sit
by me to-day, and smoke, and learn my intention.' After we had smoked,
I said to him, 'My friend, I want you to know that we are on the
warpath. We are going out to look for some horses.' After he had
smoked, the other man replied, saying, 'Brother, it is well. Let us
ask _Ti-ra´-wa_ to take pity on us, to help us on our war trip, and to
let us bring home many horses.' We two were the leaders.
"Some time after we had talked together, and made up our minds what we
would do, we selected certain young men that we could depend on, and
told them that we were on the warpath. This was done in this way. We
selected a pipe with which to have a sacred smoke, filled it and
smoked. Then we called together into the lodge the others, who did not
know our purpose. After they had assembled, I filled the pipe, and
said, 'We are going on a war party. We have filled this pipe, and must
decide what is to be done.' Then I passed the pipe to the man who sat
next to me. If he wished to join us he smoked, and passed it to the
next man. It was not allowed for any one to smoke unless he would go
with this party. Some might refuse the pipe, saying, 'I have decided
to go with another party.' The smoking of the pipe was a promise that
the leader could depend on the man who smoked.
"They used to have a certain ceremony to follow before starting out on
the warpath. It was something handed down, a special manner of praying
to _Ti-ra´-wa_ that he would bless them in their warfare.
"At last everything was ready for the start. The young men had their
packs made up. They carried cooked pounded corn, and pounded buffalo
meat mixed with tallow; and sometimes the loads were heavy. Some would
carry ten pairs of moccasins, each one stuffed full of corn, or
pounded buffalo meat. They were well fed. The loads were so heavy that
at first we would only make short marches. The leaders had to see that
the young men were not overworked.