A Good Man (39 page)

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Authors: Guy Vanderhaeghe

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Westerns

BOOK: A Good Man
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Sometimes they got so carried away with sharing their days, with wrapping up ordinary, commonplace events in gift paper for one another, that they suddenly realized twilight was drawing in and they hadn’t yet eaten. Ada would duck into the kitchen and hurry back with thick slices of bread and butter, cheese and apples, and they would keep on chattering as the room grew darker and darker. They would neglect to light a lamp just as they had neglected their supper, and would reach out and touch each other in the dim parlour, as if seeking proof that this new life they spoke about wasn’t an illusion, that someone else was there to share and witness it.

But as spring gathered force, Case was also aware that anxious talk was circulating in Fort Benton. He heard it when he went into town to buy supplies. Everyone said that when the Sioux ponies had fattened on the new grass and recovered their strength, the warriors would ride out again, and there would be the devil to pay. On a trip to buy fence staples, Case dropped in on Major Ilges to receive a briefing on the situation. That night, he wrote to Walsh.

May 13, 1877
Fort Benton
My dear Walsh,
Significant developments here. Just when it was widely believed that the Sioux were likely to mount attacks in Montana and Dakota, Maj. Ilges has informed me that Crazy Horse has unexpectedly surrendered. He and his followers turned themselves in at Camp Robinson, Nebraska, on May 8. The Army took into custody 889 souls and some 12,000 ponies. Ilges was exultant. He predicts this will cause widespread demoralization among the Sioux. As a spiritual leader Crazy Horse is second only to Sitting Bull and he has no equal as a warrior. The Sioux believed that he would never lay down arms and now he has.
To add insult to injury, the day after Crazy Horse capitulated, Col. Miles attacked the village of the Miniconjou chief, Lame Deer, on Muddy Creek. Both Lame Deer and his best warrior, Iron Star, were killed, the camp burned, and most of the Miniconjou scattered into the hills.
Crazy Horse’s people report Sitting Bull has suffered his own debilitating misfortunes this spring. In mid-March, a sudden breakup on the Missouri had sent a wall of water and ice floes racing through his camp, demolishing many of the Sioux tipis and sweeping away stores of food, clothing, and other necessities. Despite this disaster, he appears determined to continue to resist American power. According to the Sioux who are now coming into the agencies in greater and greater numbers, in April Sitting Bull called a war council at Beaver Creek. Present were Pretty Bear and No Neck of the Hunkpapas, Flying By and Red Thunder of the Miniconjous, Turning Bear and Spotted Eagle of the Sans Arcs. Not much is clear what the outcome of this meeting was but it is said that Spotted Eagle and Sitting Bull argued adamantly for continuing to fight the Americans. The others, it is said, were more hesitant.
With Crazy Horse’s example before them, Ilges believes that further defections of the Sioux will follow. He is of the opinion that that will leave Sitting Bull only two ways to keep the Sioux nation from unravelling: he needs a military victory, no matter how small, to put heart into his people, or he will have no choice but to lead an exodus into Canada.
With Crazy Horse now out of the picture, any likelihood of a Sioux triumph seems to be very slight. Ilges says it is reported that the surrendering Indians are in a dreadful state of privation due to Col. Miles’s dogged prosecution of a winter campaign. His policy may have led to no significant or decisive battlefield triumphs, but by keeping on the Indians like a dog on a biscuit, he has made it impossible for them to provide food for their women and children, and by keeping them constantly on the move for fear of attack, has driven them into a state of starvation and exhaustion. Of all American officers, Miles is the most feared and hated by the Sioux. They have named him Bear Coat because of his favoured winter dress and for his ferocity.
According to Ilges, Col. Miles is no better liked by his fellow officers than he is by the Sioux. He has a reputation as a glory hound and is considered too ambitious by half. Like Custer, he was one of the “boy generals” of the Civil War, but a smaller peacetime army reduced his rank to that of a lowly colonel. He wants the star back on his epaulettes and knows nothing will get it sooner than defeating Custer’s conqueror, Sitting Bull. But there is a fly in the ointment. If Bull escapes to Canada, that would put paid to this scheme.
Which brings me to an interesting rumour that Ilges related to me – gossip perhaps but if it is true, gossip of some import. He has heard from a number of officers passing through Benton that Miles has been actively lobbying his superiors for permission
to pursue Sitting Bull across the border
if he enters Canada, and attack him on our soil. It is held in some quarters that Miles has received a sympathetic hearing in the highest military echelons for this gross violation of international law. The Chicago papers that reach here by riverboat report that Gen. Sherman has already said publicly that he would regard any raid launched from Canadian territory by the Sioux to be an act of war perpetrated by Canada itself and justification enough for an incursion into our territory.
The dangers inherent in Miles’s and Sherman’s cavalier attitude to our national sovereignty are evident. It would be prudent for you to immediately inform Secretary of State Scott of Miles’s propensity for recklessness so that the minister can move this matter into proper governmental channelsnd provide you with instructions as to what you are to do if Miles sallies over the border.
I advise you to request clear and unambiguous orders from Scott as to how you are to meet this eventuality; they are your only protection
.
Increasingly, I find it distasteful to counsel you to remain detached in the face of the misery of the Sioux. So let me say that, despite urging you to keep secret your distribution of ammunition to the Sioux, I personally applaud what you did. The action may have been impolitic, but it was generous. And I confess to you that I would prefer to see the remainder of the Sioux reach Canada than be obliterated by Miles, even though it is scarcely in our interests that they do so. One man’s ambition to win a star hardly justifies the destruction of a people.
Having said that, I do not wish to be misunderstood. Sitting Bull is an enigma to the Americans; they cannot fathom his obstinacy. But if he arrives on your side of the line you will have to solve the puzzle. So far, he has given evidence of being as astute and formidable a leader as any American or Canadian politician. Like them, I have no doubt he will not hesitate to advance his interests by any means at his disposal. I urge you to deal with him as warily as you deal with Scott.
Yours truly,
Wesley Case

 

May 22, 1877

Fort Walsh

My dear Case,
You have got your wish. The long-expected visitor arrived before your last letter did.
First week of this month, I began to receive reports of a large body of Sioux approaching Canada from the Milk River country. So as to be on hand to greet them, left Fort Walsh with half-breeds Louis Léveillé and Gabe Solomon, three constables, and Sgt. McCutcheon. Rode hard until we reached the lower White Mud. Found evidence there of a recent Indian camp – a godawful big one – many tipi rings, fire pits, and dung dropped by a mighty horse herd. Discovered a burial scaffold nearby. Léveillé took a peek at the corpse and confirmed he was Sioux by beadwork on his clothing. Had died of bullet wounds, most likely the work of Bear Coat’s boys.
Followed the Indians’ trail the rest of the day. Next morning came under surveillance by Sioux lookouts on hilltops near Pinto Horse Butte. I ordered the men to proceed cucumber-cool, which produced general amazement when we entered their village. Had the boys dismount at the edge of the camp and bivouac. Wanted to leave the impression that riding unannounced into a large gathering of hostile Indians was an everyday occurrence for us – of no more consequence than our morning shave and shit. This created the impression I hoped for. The Sioux gathered in great numbers to gawk at us. Spotted Eagle, war chief of the Sans Arcs, passed the comment that he would never have believed that a handful of white men would dare to enter the encampment of Tatanka Yotanka in such a way. Hearing the name Sitting Bull, I took pains not to look any more surprised than as if I had been told John Smith was sitting in the lounge bar of the North American Hotel back in Prescott. Simply said if Tatanka Yotanka were availble I wouldn’t mind saying how d’you do.
Spotted Eagle returned, four individuals in tow. None of which looked as if he could be the Grand Panjandrum himself. One was as down-at-heels as the other. Then, instanter, a stocky fellow with a pronounced limp broke ranks, went directly for Sgt. McCutcheon, grabbed him by the hand, and commenced to give it a good shaking. The Sergeant looked as astonished as if a thousand of brick had fallen on his head. Bull had mistaken McCutcheon’s sergeant’s chevrons as indication he was the chief of the Old Woman’s pony soldiers.
Spotted Eagle stepped in, sorted things out, and presented me to Bull, a man of about forty-five, sturdily built, and with a powerful hooked nose that looks like it could chop chain, but so shabbily dressed he resembled a doss-house inhabitant. After the flood on the Missouri impoverished his people, Bull apparently emptied his pockets for them. Among these Indians, it is charity that distinguishes a true leader, while our politicians begin to sharpen their shears to fleece their flock even before they get elected.
Met the new arrivals for a confab. Assure Ilges that I spoke to Bull and his people as I did with the Sioux who had come over previously. In effect, told them they were playing a new game of canasta and laid down the rules. Nobody, including Bull, objected to keeping the peace with the Yankees. But there was plenty talk of Bear Coat, who they said was hot on their trail. They all expressed fear the Long Knives would fall on them even in the Old Woman’s country. To ease their worry, told them Miles’s pony soldiers could not enter the Old Woman’s land without her permission. Said that if Bear Coat tried to attack them, the Police would stand between him and the Sioux.
This promise to protect them from Miles
was given before
your letter of May 13 arrived warning me to do nothing concerning Miles without Scott’s blessing, but I hasten to say I would give these Indians the same promise again. They are now my wards and I won’t have strangers spanking them in my own parlour.
They are in a terrible state. Their lodges, patched together out of old hides, provide little shelter from the wind and rain. Children are saucer-eyed with hunger, old people are hungry,
everybody
is hungry. Now, it’s as plain as day that the penny-pinchers in Parliament will never vote an outlay of money to supply these Indians with rations. They will have to hunt to feed themselves. Without ammunition they are condemned to starve. This is iron logic. Therefore, I have given leave to trader Légaré to trade them bullets, shot, and powder. Glad to hear you approve of my former actions in this regard, but I think it is also good
politics
vis-à-vis the Sioux. Black Moon and Four Horns got ammunition so how can I deny Sitting Bull the same? That would destroy any confidence they have in me as a square dealer. I’m not running for Congress, I’m charged with keeping the peace
here
. If Sitting Bull is to be controlled, I must win his trust
and
his respect. That’s not going to happen if he sees me dancing to “Yankee Doodle Dandy” every time they strike up that tune to the south. He’s got to learn who is bandmaster in these parts. I believe I gave him proof of that the morning we departed his camp.
Just as we were saying our goodbyes, three South Assiniboines rode into the Sioux village driving five horses before them. One was White Dog from the Missouri country near Fort Buford, the war chief who Sitting Bull tried to make an alliance with before the Battle of Little Bighorn. White Dog must have been flattered by the Sioux grandee importuning him for his support, maybe thought Bull would do anything to win his friendship, which is why he didn’t hesitate to flaunt stolen property under my very eyes. Was counting on Bull protecting him.

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