THE unfriendly conditions which Brother Van found growing between the Indians and the whites led later to the Custer Massacre. While in the missionary’s mind there was no expectation of such a serious climax, yet he saw that the idea of a real brotherhood of man must be given as quickly as possible to the traders, miners, ranchmen, and settlers. Through their better understanding of Christ’s religion the Indian through example would be led to know the white man’s God.

It was a fresh quest that made Brother Van set out for Helena, which was then a comparatively large settlement. The town was in the proximity of the gold mine called Last Chance Gulch. This mine has an interesting history. Prospectors had been for long, weary months at Silver Creek, which was twelve or thirteen miles from where Helena now stands. Luck had been against them, and they packed their horses and came down the trail disheartened and “broke.” They resolved to give up the search and go home. Coming into Helena in the evening, they made camp close to the tiny town, intending to leave early on the following day.

On the next morning the horses were loaded, and everything was in readiness for the start, when the unquenchable faith of the prospector moved John Cowan to take up a pick and to make one more attempt to find ore.

“Well, boys, here’s our last chance,” he said, carelessly, as he drove his pick into the ground.

He struck gold. From that mine fifty to eighty million dollars’ worth of gold was taken. The words of the lucky prospector always stuck to the section, and it was called Last Chance Gulch. The mine was five miles long and the vein two hundred feet wide. One nugget was free from quartz, and was worth two thousand and seventy-three dollars. Last Chance Gulch has a thrilling record. Scenes of adventure and death took place there. Men made vast fortunes. Other men lost all that they had and went away broken in spirit. Gamblers won and lost; prospectors failed; but always Last Chance paid in gold.

Entering Helena to-day, you will find a thriving, bustling city, proud of one of the finest hotels in the Northwest. The hotel stands on the spot where the miner stuck in his pick. Enough gold was found in the soil to pay for the excavation, and this was taken from the “tailings,” or discarded earth handled by the early miners. But Helena was a typical mining town when the Eastern tenderfoot came. He was at the mercy of the hard element. Only the rare good judgment and a sense of the fitness of things saved the preacher and made his ministrations possible.

Brother Van made a short stay there, and then, as a missionary to “everywhere,” he pressed on to Bozeman. There he found the only Methodist Church building in Montana Territory. It was a brick church and it had been built through the enterprise of the Rev.Thomas C. Iliff. This missionary was a great force in the new West. He brought a dainty, cultured, Eastern bride to the unsettled territory. Through the inspiration of her companionship and tactful assistance, together with his own natural courage and ability, he became a notable power for good in the development of the West.

Dr.Iliff had come to Helena in Eastern finery, and appeared on the streets adorned with an immaculate linen frock coat, fancy vest, striped trousers, and silk hat. As he came along the streets, cries of “Fresh fish! Fresh fish!” greeted him. The silk hat seemed particularly to annoy the deriding miners who closed in around the preacher. His fighting blood was up, and the new preacher continued his way, apparently undaunted by the jeers of the crowd. But early next morning he stole forth to a hatter’s and purchased a wide-brimmed hat, which style of hat, by the way, he wore to the day of his death. With the aid of the obliging haberdasher, the silk hat was wrapped to resemble a joint of stove-pipe and it afterward became a relic of by-gone splendor. Brother Van and the hero of the tall hat story became fast friends, and had many an adventure together in the years of roughing it that followed.

A pony had been given to Brother Van during his visit at Helena. He was now in reality a circuit-rider, and as he became familiar on the plains, he and his steed began to be known everywhere as the “Gospel Team.” They traveled through a large section of the state and when the anniversary of Brother Van’s arrival in Montana came, it was an experienced preacher who celebrated it. Such a wonderful year it had been! Hardships were forgotten in the triumphs, for many “first services” had been conducted, and scores of “first members” had been received. The year had brought friends, and his faithful pony seemed to be a real partner in service. Into the preacher’s pocketbook had gone exactly seventy-five dollars as the year’s salary, but there was no thought of quitting because of the lack of stipend. The West had called him and had claimed him.

On the day that marked the end of his first year in Montana, Brother Van received from the Conference an appointment as Junior Preacher to the Rev.F.A. Riggin. The appointment read: “To Beaver Head and Jefferson District.”

Virginia City in the southwest corner of the state was the center of this circuit. Beaver Head, Madison River, and Salmon City, one hundred and fifty miles away, were its three points. Montana had been set off from Idaho and erected into a separate territory in May, 1864. Brother Van’s circuit, therefore, extended across the Rocky Mountains into Idaho as far as Salmon City. The region provided variety in its characteristics. There were lonely trails to travel over for the pony and Brother Van, and for his co-worker, Mr.Riggin. There were only eighteen members of the church in all that large region. The junior and senior preachers so arranged their work that one man took care of the regular appointments while the other did the evangelistic work. By this plan a continuous series of evangelistic meetings was held for seven months. At the end of their first year in the district, seven new societies had been organized, and one hundred and fifty new members received into the church.

Among the long rides which the Gospel Team took was one to the town of Butte. In describing the occasion Brother Van remarked dryly: “We had all but ten of the whole town in our congregation on that first night.” This would be a remarkable statement if it were made to-day; but at that time the population of Butte was exactly fifty people. The city is now the most important railway center in the state. It has been called the “greatest mining camp in the world.” Brother Van’s visit was at the very beginning of the history of what is now a city of great interest to America.

When the snow cleared away the Gospel Team penetrated to the National Park, and one day on coming into the Upper Yellowstone Valley, Brother Van found a large congregation waiting. One man said: “If a herd of wild buffalo had run through the streets of St.Louis it could not have caused more comment than that a preacher had come to the Yellowstone.” The National Park was then but a year old, and the grandeur of the “Wonderland of America” was beginning to be appreciated. It was in the famous place of geysers, deep canyons, and waterfalls, where nature had combined many influences to produce the beauty of the surrounding scene, that Brother Van conducted the first Protestant religious service held in the new park. The missionary continued to go about steadily from section to section and at the close of his five years of work in Montana as missionary to everywhere, he received the appointment of local deacon. It was just about the date of this recognition, that the trouble brewing between the Indians and the white men developed into the Indian wars.

The settlers lived in small isolated communities. Some of the pioneers had seized the opportunity to return east to visit their old homes while the Centennial Exhibition was in progress in Philadelphia in the year 1876. In the spring of that year gold had been discovered in the Black Hills of Dakota, an almost unknown region girt around by what is known as Bad Lands, or “Medicine Country,” as the Indians called it. At once there was a rush of miners out of Montana to the new fields. This move helped to reduce the white population. Aspirit of rebellion had been steadily rising in the minds of the red men until it reached the open hostility soon to give to American history the fearful story of the Custer Massacre.

The Indians objected so strongly to the intrusion of prospectors and others into their territory, that they sent Red Cloud and Spotted Tail to Washington to protest, because the coming of the white men into that region was a clear violation of existing treaties. The government promised to keep prospectors out, but failed to do so. The Indians then demanded payment for their lands. The government sent a commission which reported that force would be the only way to settle the dispute. The Indians also decided that this was their only method of protest. It had been seen that the first meetings worked no advantage to either side, but served only to anger both Indians and whites. Amessage was sent by the United States government to Sitting Bull, who had gathered all the warriors around him in the Big Horn country. He was ordered to return to the Reservation, or the United States would make war on his people. He sent this reply: “When you come for me you need bring no guides. You will easily find me. Ishall be right here. Ishall not run away.”

He kept his promise. The Indians took their allowance from the United States government and bought bullets and guns. They gathered along the Rosebud and Little Big Horn rivers and among the hills and valleys between. They were led by Rain-in-the-Face while their real leader, Sitting Bull, was absent making medicine.

The United States troops in the western States had concentrated in their efforts to check the rebellion. General Custer was in command of the cavalry under General Terry. Scouts brought word that a band of Indians were riding rapidly to join the main body. They were supposed to be Pawnees, and numbering not more than twelve hundred. General Custer was sent to surround the camp. He divided his men into three companies as he prepared a well-planned attack. Major Reno was to ride directly across, but was to wait one hour to allow Major Benteen’s detachment to go up the river, cross it, and so be above the camp. The tactics did not allow for the hard traveling which Major Benteen found, nor for the great force of hostile Indians.

At the end of the hour of waiting, Major Reno attacked and was so completely overcome and dismayed at the strength of the Indians, that he fled to the bluffs. Major Benteen arrived at last, but saw that he could do nothing, so he joined the retreat. This left General Custer at the place which he had selected with two hundred men to face an infuriated band of Indians numbering five thousand. When Custer saw the size of the Indian army, he sent a scout to the retreating men in the hills, saying, “Come on, big village, be quick, bring packs.” He meant by packs the extra powder and bullets. With their horrible war-cry the Indians bore down on the little handful of men, who soon saw that there was nothing to do but to fight and die.

General Custer saw every one of his men mutilated and scalped, and he stood at last alone. He received seven wounds before he fell. The onrushing Indians were abashed and astonished at such bravery; not a rough hand was laid on Custer’s body, and no tomahawk tore into the hero’s scalp. On the next day Major Reno and Major Benteen were followed by the Indians and attacked as they prepared to make their last stand. But these enemies saw the rest of the white men approaching under Generals Terry and Gibbon and quickly fled.

On the twenty-seventh day of June, the bodies of General Custer and his brave men were buried. Amonument marks the spot where they fell, and all America honors the courage that the handful of men displayed on that summer day. Another people honor those dead. The Sioux Indians look upon General Custer as a god because of his bravery. His memory is honored and loved among them, and they call him the “Evening Star.”

In Lives of Famous Indian Chiefs, N.B. Wood says that there were two survivors of Custer’s last stand, Curley, the Crow scout, who put on a Sioux blanket and escaped, and the horse Comanche, the famous war horse of Captain Keogh. He was found bleeding from seven wounds, and was carried back by soldiers on a litter of blankets and poles. Comanche recovered and lived to the age of forty-five, while few horses reach the age of thirty-five. His skin was stuffed and is now in the museum of the Kansas State University.

This massacre at Little Big Horn, now so memorable a part of American history, threw a gloom over the whole nation. The New York Tribune on July3, 1876, said: “It is the eve of Independence Day, the Centennial Fourth. All the land is ablaze with enthusiasm. Alas! if the tidings of General Custer’s terrible disaster could be borne on the wings of the four winds, dirges, not anthems would be heard in the streets of Philadelphia, New York, and San Francisco.

“A great shadow has fallen on the valley of the Big Horn. The youngest of our guard, the beau sabreur of the Army of the Potomac, the golden-haired chief whom the Sioux had learned to love, has fought his last fight. Surrounded by over two hundred and fifty brothers in arms, Custer lies buried in the field where he fought, and fought until he could fight no longer.”

But this serious situation of the Indian uprisings did not end with this calamity which is referred to commonly as the Custer Massacre, and Brother Van had a full share of the dangers. Later the wars came into his territory.