GREAT excitement prevailed throughout the West over the rebellion of the Indians. The effect of the disturbances was felt increasingly severely in the district between Bannack and Sheridan. The Nez PercÉs Indians had long dwelt in the beautiful and fertile Wallowa Valley in Oregon. They resented the new treaty and fled into Montana from the soldiers sent to force them into the reservations. They were accustomed to the trails through Idaho and over the mountains as they had often come to Montana to camp and to hunt buffalo. This tribe had become known as the Nez PercÉs (nose pinched) Indians because they wore rings in their noses when Lewis and Clark found them during their western explorations. It is claimed by some members of the tribe that this was a mistake and that wearing nose rings had never been a custom of theirs.

The Nez PercÉs were a peaceful people and it was this tribe that had sent the delegation to find the “White Man’s Book of Heaven.” They had remembered the white man’s religion during the twenty-five years after the visit of those early explorers and the time of the pilgrimage of their leaders to St.Louis. They were eager to know the true religion and had often disputed about it among themselves. Some members of the tribe held that the white man worshiped the sun, as he had pointed to the sky when he spoke to them of God. They knew that the book would tell them the truth.

One of the religious ceremonies of the Nez PercÉs was the sun-dance. Apole was set up in the center and the people circled about it. The priest stood in the center of the circle and held up a fish, berries, or some other food and said, “Oh! Father bless the fish. Oh! Father bless us.” The phrase varied, of course, with the food thus held to the sun. Every one would chant the words after him with their heads bowed to the ground.

The resentment of these peaceful and worshipful, but now rebellious Indians showed itself in their acts of defiance. The settlements were greatly disturbed. Stories of wanton raids on the settlers were borne back and forth as the swift riders galloped over the prairies. Stockades were made for the protection of the women and children. Miners, ranchmen, and settlers were all engrossed in the one big object of protecting the lives of the scattered whites, and of saving the property so dearly bought by their daring and toil.

Thus Brother Van found a new job. He gave his services to his country, and, still preaching, singing, and cheering sad hearts, he became war scout for General O.O. Howard, who had been put in command of the troops sent to quell the Indian uprising. Only indecisive battles were fought. The Indians were not quieted, but were fired to further violence. Still resenting the presence of the whites on the plains, and still failing to appreciate the protection of the Great White Father at Washington, they were moved to many acts of violence under such indomitable leaders as Chief Joseph, Looking Glass, and White Bird to command their movements.

The town of Bannack was built on Grasshopper Creek where gold was discovered in 1862. It was the first capital after the region became a territory and it was there in December, 1864, that the first legislature met and divided the new territory into counties.

Fear of the Indians was so intense in Bannack that the town was picketed, and volunteers were on the lookout at night. Brother Van was preaching to a large congregation in the courthouse and guards watched the building in which he spoke.

“He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

“I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will Itrust.

“Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.”

These were the words with which the preacher sought to quiet the alarm in the hearts of the waiting people. At daybreak a swift rider came into town and one arm dangled as he rode. Then came another rider who brought the message, “Indians are devastating and killing as they come and many of the settlers are being killed.”

A quick consultation followed in the grey dawn. Fifteen men volunteered and the missionary scout was among them. Melvin Trask was elected captain of the volunteer band. When all were ready a woman came and asked to be allowed to accompany them, for her husband, Mr.Winter, was on the plains at the mercy of the invaders. The company absolutely refused to allow her to go, and she was put under the guard of some neighbors that she might be protected.

The party set forth with grim, set faces and had proceeded about twelve miles when they heard a rider approaching from the rear. On guard and alert against possible surprise, they were astonished on looking back to see Mrs.Winter, who soon rode into their circle. Declaring that no power on earth could keep her from her husband, she had mounted the splendid horse which was her own particular property, and now joined the party of volunteers. They rode until they reached her home. At the front door lay the body of a man with four bullet wounds in his head, and on opening the door, Mrs.Winter found the body of her husband’s partner, Mr.Montague. Mr.Winter could not be found in the house, so the party started to search the grounds. By the side of the house they found the body of a Mr.Smith, and further on discovered a ranchman named Farnsworth and to him were able to give comfort in his dying moments.

Two scouts now set out to find Mr.Winter. As they departed, the Nez PercÉs warriors returned to the scene of devastation, and the little band of volunteers was forced to ride rapidly toward Bannack, firing as they went. This left the scouts alone at the mercy of the Indians. Crawling when they must, running when they could, they evaded the Indians and came at last to a protected section, where they were able to make real progress. Here they met the retreating party and the glad meeting was just over, when to their wondering eyes appeared a blood-stained, disheveled, white man. Mrs.Winter recognized her husband, and their joyous reunion took place on the sheltered road.

Cautiously the anxious riders turned back to the Winter ranch. The Indians had again departed. Awagon was found that could be used, though the devastating hands of the Indians had touched, not only the house, but all the property of the ranchman. The four bodies were tenderly lifted and taken to Bannack for Christian burial. That funeral is a sacred hour in Montana history. General Howard’s scout, Brother Van, was the preacher. The terrified people gathered in a great sobbing congregation. The isolation of the settlers gave them a feeling of desolation that was disheartening. These four bodies were evidences of the murderous intent of the red men; surely a large task was set for Brother Van in helping the terror-stricken on that day.

The services began and the preacher in his own quieting way talked to the living, for hope was his vital breath. Comfort began to steal over the waiting throng, when lo, a messenger appeared at the church door.

He said, “The Indians are again approaching Bannack.”

The service came to an abrupt close, for those in attendance hastened home to protect children and property. All was in confusion. The men gathered in consultation. They decided that word of the new attack must be taken to General Howard, who was coming toward the scene and was even then but twelve miles away.

Again volunteers were called for. Once more Brother Van offered his services and with John Poindexter set out for help. They rode through Indian country, and evading every danger, came at last to the detachment of the regular army. They found the soldiers in sore straits, for the long march through Idaho had been most disheartening. Communications with the East were cut, and they were compelled to live on such scant forage as the country provided. The infantry was without shoes and the cavalry was tired out with long marches in a mountainous country. On hearing of the danger that threatened Bannack, General Howard dispatched a company of cavalry for the town’s protection. He then spoke to the two hardy, seasoned scouts who had come to him for help, and asked of them a great service. He told them of the scantiness of his supplies. He explained the importance of sending information to Washington concerning the serious situation, and asked them if they would be his messengers to the nearest point of communication with the government.

“We are at our country’s service,” was their instant reply.

So, in the lonely watches of the night, John Poindexter and Brother Van started on another errand of mercy. As they left the camp they could hear the hoot of the owl and the yelp of the coyote—sounds that were plaintive and saddening at any time, but to these two scouts they were now full of deadly meaning. They knew that the hoot and the yelp were signals given by watching Indians.

As silently as possible they moved, going directly to the south, and as they journeyed the calls grew indistinct, and at last were heard no more. The scouts relaxed slightly, for their confidence was somewhat regained. Suddenly in the dim dawn twelve warriors loomed up before them. No shots could be fired. The party was small and a shot would but call other waiting Indians to their assistance. General Howard must not be drawn into needless battle, for his men and horses were suffering for lack of rest. The horses which the scouts were riding were fresh and spirited; so, giving spur and riding in furious haste, the two messengers outdistanced the Indians, leaving them and the immediate danger far behind.

At last the scouts reached the stage road, and rode without interruption to a station. Here the precious message to Washington was put in the hands of Uncle Sam’s postmen, who drove the stage-coaches amid such peril and hardship, carrying passengers and letters across the “Great American Desert.” Their duty accomplished, Brother Van and his companion returned to the seat of war. They found Bannack ready for a siege. Captain Bell was in charge of the company of regulars, and there were also two companies of Montana Volunteers from Butte under the command of Major W.A. Clark.

When the excitement over their safe return had subsided, Brother Van again turned his attention toward the church. The town was full of people and their need of solace was great. Achurch building had been started but the Indian wars had halted the work. The missionary scout determined to finish the church and he found that everybody wanted to help; soldiers, settlers, and cowboys went at the building with hearty good will. The little church was thus very speedily completed, and on a beautiful Sabbath Day another of Brother Van’s first enterprises was dedicated to the Lord.

What the helpful presence of the preacher-scout meant to the distressed townspeople in those trying days is shown by a dispatch sent from Bannack to the Helena Herald, August, 1877. The correspondent reported: “Word also has just arrived that there is a load of guns and ammunition within fifteen miles of us; an escort has just gone out to meet it. News also comes that Joe Metlin is on his way from Glendale with a company of volunteers for our protection, and that he will arrive in a few hours. It is now midnight, and every now and then some one keeps coming in, so that if we get the guns here by morning we will be in better shape. The Rev.Van Orsdel is here doing duty as a volunteer. He is a whole man. God bless all good men of whatever creed.”

A successful work in this community seemed ahead of the scout-missionary. Acommon fear had drawn the people closely together and nearer to their knowledge of a protecting God. But another work was given to Brother Van and fresh adventures shortly presented themselves.