You will have no difficulty in reading the signature, which is that of a Sioux "medicine man," who, a few years ago was perhaps the most notable of his race. Sitting Bull was born in Dakota, in 1837. He inherited a deep hatred of the white people, and the tribe to which he belonged is to-day the most powerful on this continent. It can put five thousand bucks or more in the field, and every one of them would prove himself a sturdy fighter.

A bloody outbreak of the Sioux in Minnesota took place in the summer of 1862. We were in the throes of our Civil War at that time. The crimes of the Indians were of the most horrible nature, but the military force sent thither, together with the volunteers steadily drove the hostiles to the wall and captured a large number. Thirty-seven of the leaders were tried by a military commission and found guilty of such fearful outrages that they were hanged.

Sitting Bull, the Sioux chief, was not frightened by this exhibition of a nation's anger.

He was then a young warrior, but he gathered about him a large number of Indians, who had been friendly to the whites. In 1874, they attacked the Crows and drove them from their reservation. Notice was sent to him by the Interior Department, to remove with his band by January 31, 1876. Sitting Bull paid no attention to the order, and the business was put in the hands of the War Department. General Crook destroyed the village of Crazy Horse in the following March, but the severity of the weather compelled a halt in military movements.

The discovery of gold in the Black Hills led to an invasion of the section by emigrants. The section belonged by treaty to the Sioux, and the authorities warned all white people to keep away. No heed was given to the notice, and the enraged Sioux left their own reservation and began to plunder and massacre the people of Wyoming and Montana. Generals Terry and Cook, with a strong force of regulars moved into the region of the Upper Yellowstone, and drove Sitting Bull with several thousand hostiles toward the Big Horn Mountains and the river. Generals Custer and Reno with the Seventh Cavalry set out to locate the Indians. They found their camp, three miles in length, on the left bank of the Little Big Horn River. Custer sent Reno with three companies to attack the rear, and without waiting for support, charged the Sioux.

Not a soldier came out of the charge alive. Fifteen officers, including two brothers and a nephew of Custer, and two hundred and thirty-two men were overwhelmed and massacred by the hostiles. It was one of the most awful disasters in our frontier history, but the fault lay with the dashing, headlong Custer himself.

When news of the calamity reached Fort Leavenworth, General Nelson P. Miles was ordered to the scene with the Fifth Infantry. Certain that a large number of the Indians were not far off, General Miles moved down the left bank of the Yellowstone. On the way, he came upon the following note, fastened on a stick thrust into the ground, where it had been left by an Indian runner several days before:

"Yellowstone.

"I want to know what you are doing traveling on this road. You scare all the buffalo away. I want to hunt in this place. I want you to turn back from here. If you don't I will fight you again. I want you to leave what you have got here and turn back from here.

"I am your friend,
"Sitting Bull.

"I mean all the rations you have got and some powder. Wish you would write as soon as you can."

Instead of writing, as requested, General Miles started after Sitting Bull, and overtook him near one of the branches of the Yellowstone. The two leaders met under a flag of truce and the talk was sharp. Sitting Bull was not in chief command of the Sioux at the Custer massacre, but he was present and took part. The thought of accepting orders from this dusky miscreant was beyond bearing, and General Miles, notable for his self-restraint, said to the grim chieftain:

"I am going to drive you out or you are going to drive me out."

Filled with rage, Sitting Bull strode back to his bucks, and, knowing that all negotiation was at an end, General Miles attacked him with such vigor that the Sioux were driven into wild flight, with the loss of a large number of warriors. General Miles, who had long before proved himself one of the finest of soldiers, pushed the pursuit so resolutely that the Sioux leaped from their ponies, and, leaving everything, scattered among the hills. General Miles was anxious to capture Sitting Bull, the chief marplot, and he pressed the pursuit for fifty miles, but the Sioux leader kept out of his way. It may as well be said at this point, that Sitting Bull proved that he was lacking in personal courage. He and several other chiefs managed to break away from the main body and thus saved themselves.

Knowing the need of running down Sitting Bull, General Miles reorganized his forces in the camp on Tongue River, and again started in pursuit of the Sioux medicine man. A fall of snow hid the trail. The cold grew intense. General Miles kept his scouts busy, and early in January, the camp of the hostiles was located. It numbered about two hundred lodges, and was attacked with such spirit that the horde was driven headlong across the Missouri. Another assault a fortnight later resulted in the capture of most of the camp equipage of the Indians. Sitting Bull kept pushing northward until he believed he was beyond reach of the tireless Miles. This proved true for the time, for the snow was so deep that it was impossible for the cavalry to make headway; but when spring began melting the snow and ice, the chieftain knew he was liable to be pounced upon at any hour by the officers and men who would not be baffled. So he clinched his safety by crossing the line into Canada. So long as he stayed there, our troops could not disturb him. The fervent hope was that he would stay there, for if he returned to his own country, trouble was sure to follow. He knew better than to misbehave himself while in Canada, where the mounted police looked after the law-breakers.

You have read more than one account in the previous pages of great uprisings and conspiracies on the part of the Indians of our country. Some of them threatened large sections, and at times many cities and towns were imperilled by these plottings and border wars. It seems hard, therefore, to believe that the closing years of the nineteenth century saw the gravest danger of that nature through which we have ever passed. Yet such is the fact. An uprising might have been started by the discharge of a single gun, or the rash act of one private soldier, and once kindled, it would have swept like a cyclone from Canada to Mexico, causing the deaths of thousands and the loss of millions of dollars worth of property.

It need not be repeated that the cause of this fearful state of affairs was the injustice of white men and the shameless treatment of the Indians by our government. It is not necessary to give particulars, but I will illustrate the fact by a single incident, which is a type of scores of others.

It once became certain that an agent at one of the Sioux agencies had swindled the Indians and our government to the extent of eighty thousand dollars. The offence was so flagrant that a committee was sent from Washington to look into the matter. A friend of the agent notified him of his danger. He bribed one of his interpreters to meet the committee at a point where they had to take a stage to ride to the agency. This cunning fellow did so without a hint of his purpose. It did not take him long to make friends with the visitors. They were pleased to learn that he was familiar with Indian affairs, and still more pleased to find that he could speak the Sioux tongue. They proposed that he should act as interpreter. He agreed, and the bargain was closed by the payment to him of fifty dollars. The man carried out his contract with his dishonest employer. The Indians poured their grievance into his ears and he listened gravely, nodding his head as if in sympathy. Then turning to the waiting members of the committee, he changed those complaints into praise of the faithful labors of the thieving agent. He took care that his face did not betray the truth to either party. The committee, little dreaming of the trick, went back to Washington, wondering how the unjust reports had been spread concerning the model employÉ of the government.

The inhabitants of Dakota (not then divided into the two present States) wished to open a highway through the Sioux reservation, and have it settled by white men. The work would have been of advantage to the Indians themselves. It was not hard to make them see this fact, and they seemed willing to sell their lands. All they wanted was that they should not be cheated, and if they had not been cheated, they never would have raised a hand against the United States. Negotiations went on for several years, until at last a new Commission, of which General Crook was chairman, persuaded the Sioux to sign a treaty by which they gave up about 11,000,000 acres of their reservation, reducing it one-half.

The chiefs signed their names with misgiving. They had seen so much deception that they had grown suspicious, even though they were argued with by a leading military officer—a class who are always more honest than civilians.

We hear of the Messiah craze about this time. It was the strange belief that the Great Spirit was soon coming to destroy the white people, and to give back the lands they had stolen from the Indians. The faith spread like wildfire, and seemed to rob nearly all the Sioux tribe of their senses. The bucks quickly reached that state of frenzy in which they were eager to attack the whites.

To Sitting Bull this was the golden opportunity for which he had been waiting for years. He could turn the fanaticism of his people to his own account, and he determined to do so. He sent out his runners to the different branches of the Sioux. They made numerous converts everywhere. The heart of the old, brooding pagan must have glowed when he saw everything working out as he wished it to work. Very soon he would be able to launch his warriors against the settlements and agencies, and spread desolation and death among those whom he hated with unspeakable hatred.

The camp of Sitting Bull was about forty miles southeast of the Pine Ridge Agency. In December, 1890, General Ruger telegraphed from St. Paul to Colonel Drum, commandant at Fort Yates, ordering him to arrest the chief. General Ruger wished to have the military and civil officers join in the act, but the agent believed less friction would follow if the matter was placed in the hands of the Indian police. These men, as the name shows are Indians. They are the sole agents of the Interior Department for the enforcement of its regulations, and for preserving the peace. They are taken from the best men, physically and mentally, and, though their pay is moderate, they have done fine service, and shown a bravery in many instances, which none of our own race could surpass.

The arrest of Sitting Bull was certain to cause excitement among his people, and would perhaps be attended by violence. The plan was carefully guarded, and a time was selected, when most of the Indians would be at the agency drawing their rations. The delay would have been greater, had it not been learned that the chief was preparing to leave the reservation, and unless the authorities acted promptly, would soon be beyond reach.

Forty Indian police galloped toward the camp of the famous medicine man, followed at some distance by two troops of cavalry and a force of infantry. When within a few miles, these bodies united and halted. The plan was that the soldiers should station themselves some two miles from the camp, where they would be within call, should the police need their help. Then the Indian police rode forward at an easy pace.

When they reached his tent, Sitting Bull was in bed. He was roused and told that he was under arrest. He did not resist (you will remember he was lacking in personal courage) and would have submitted quietly but for his son, Crow Foot, a bright fellow of seventeen years. He was provoked by the meekness of his father. "You are very brave," he said, "when there is no danger, but when the police come you are a child."

Roused by the taunt, Sitting Bull began fighting, and called to his friends to come to his help. One of these caught up a gun and added his shouts. The next minute the battle was on, and raged viciously for some minutes. The hostiles were twice as numerous as the police, and though the latter fought heroically, they quickly found themselves in serious danger. Several were shot down, and the outlook was doubtful, when one of them galloped to the top of the nearest hill and signalled to the cavalry, who dashed forward on a dead run. A few minutes later, they opened with their Hotchkiss and Gatling guns and dispersed the hostiles.

In this affray, five of the police were killed, including the lieutenant in command. Of the hostiles, seven were shot, besides Sitting Bull, who was slain by the lieutenant a moment before his own death. In addition to these, Crow Foot, the son of the chief, was drawn out from hiding and killed by the police who were enraged because of the losses they had suffered. This was apparently not justified even in war.

The days now came, when, as I have stated, a spark would have kindled the conflagration that would have raged from Canada to the Gulf; but General Miles took charge, just before the battle at Wounded Knee, and he acted with such admirable skill, that his success was perfect. The hostiles were coaxed to come forward and surrender, and this was done with such tact, that they soon showed signs of obeying. For days they edged up foot by foot. Sometimes the bucks revolted, for they were bent on war, and many a time it seemed that nothing less than a miracle could prevent a terrific outbreak. On the morning of January 15, the immense horde came in, gave up their guns, and made submission.

To show the strength of this body, it may be said that the procession was four miles long and very nearly six thousand Indians were in line. Actual count made the number of lodges seven hundred and thirty-two. Army officers believed the whole number was fully eleven thousand. One needs only to think of what such a host—larger than any had supposed—when reinforced by the thousands from other tribes, would have done if they had once taken the war path against the United States.

Our account of the great Indian uprising of 1890-91 would be incomplete without a few words concerning one of the most prominent leaders of that revolt. He was Red Cloud, who became head chief of the entire Sioux tribe. Considerably older than Sitting Bull, he fiercely opposed every change in the customs of his people which the government agents tried to bring about. He was the leader in the councils, and, when the outbreak came, he caught up his Winchester and proved himself a force with which the military arm had to reckon. In December, 1866, he and two thousand Sioux ambushed Colonel Fetterman and ninety of his men near Fort Phil Kearney. He was deposed in 1876 by General Crook, who made Spotted Tail his successor. This chief was killed by Crow Dog, and the way thus opened for Sitting Bull.

When the storm-cloud passed, Red Cloud openly opposed the scheme of allotting lands to the Indians, and making the red men support themselves by farming and cattle raising. He lived for many years in a two-story frame dwelling, which the government built for him near the agency at Pine Ridge, but refused to take his allotment of land, insisting that our government owed the Sioux a living without compelling them to work. The proud old chief said he would starve before he would accept a piece of land and toil like a squaw. So bitter was his feeling against the white man that he would never learn a word of our language.