Letters During the War
Chapter 9
(Author's note: For me, this chapter is pivotal to the story. i think I actually dreamed part of the confrontation scene-it remains very vivid in my mind. The story of the Dakota War of 1862 is historical fact and much as I reported it.)
August 1862
Heading South from the Upper Minnesota River
Written in the book by Buck
I decided that I wanted to write this part of our story. I expect Maggie will want to tell her part of it as well. Maggie is safe and we are eventually heading to Rock Creek where I plan for us to be married.
Maggie's letter didn't reach me before I left with the horses. Probably just as well. I would have been more worried. My wranglers and I safely reached Fort Kearney after a long, dry trail. The army was very happy with the quality of the horses and paid us promptly. And offered to buy more. I won't get back this way until next year, but I should have a good supply for them then.
I gave my wranglers pay and money to pick up a few supplies. The commanding officer wanted to talk to me, so I said my goodbyes to the men. Col. Marsden had a telegram for me from Mr. Ray. It read as follows: Maggie's school in danger. Probable Indian uprising. Please rescue. Father Ray."
Col. Marsden gave me more information. The Dakota trying to live on that narrow strip of land on the Upper Minnesota River had reached their limit. On August 4th there had been a meeting for the Northwestern part of the reservation, which was successful. But the governmental agencies of the lower section (where Maggie was) are not known for kindness and in fact, are suspected of graft. So the army was on alert. Marsden recommended that I get Maggie and anyone else still at the school out of there. He was so serious that he loaned me the use of one of the horses I'd just sold him.
So I went north as quickly as I could. I arrived in their area the 18th of August. There was a smell of smoke in the area and no one around. Not a good sign. A group of Lakota warriors in full war paint rode up towards me. I knew they would want my horses and I would have to be careful.
"Greetings" I said in sign language. "I have come to retrieve my intended and ask safe passage."
They gave me an odd look. The leader of the group signed, "You are Kiowa?" I agreed. "Your intended is from what tribe?"
I smiled. "She is Cree."
They conferred for a moment and then signed that I could continue. They told me that they had given her and her two fellow teachers 3 days to leave. Tomorrow was the last day. I could not show it, but a great fear gripped me. I forced myself to smile again. "Then it's a good thing I came today is it not?" Laughing, they led me to the school complex.
And there she was, on the porch of the big house, sorting things into piles. She looked tired, dirty, and there was blood on her clothes, but she was being strong. She looked up and saw me and started running. Before anyone could stop her she was on my horse, in my arms. I never wanted to let her go.
The Lakota braves made some ribald jokes about us then left. But first they reminded us that we all had to leave my the next day. Reluctantly, it seemed to me, Maggie slid off my horse and we began making plans.
It was a very good thing the Lakota had left the wagon. We spent the rest of the day loading things into it and giving the rest away to the Indians that lived nearby. The peace chief moved into the house. Come morning we hitched up the horses and left-Mr. Banks, Miss Ellis, Maggie, and I. We didn't see the Lakota warriors, but I knew they were watching.
We headed south. We needed to go to the nearest functioning army post to report what had happened. Mr. Banks and Miss Ellis needed to contact their families and to figure out what to do next. Maggie had let me know that the two of them were close to coming to an understanding, so we made sure that the two of them had some alone time.
Maggie and I needed to talk too. I had to head back to the ranch soon, and I wanted her to come with me. As my wife. She had time to teach on a reservation like she wanted. Now it was time for her to start the next part of her life. Enough waiting! And if I'm being truly honest with myself, I know letting her go off to another dangerous situation for yet another year would be very, very hard.
late August
Still on the road
Buck was right, I do want to tell my side of the story. So much has happened that I've only just now had time to read what Buck wrote.
My part of the story began on August 4th. The Upper Sioux Agency was able to successfully negotiate to get food for the Indians. I was at the August 15th meeting for the Lower Sioux Agency. It was a disaster. Our Indian Agent Thomas Galbraith would not distribute food without payment. The representative of the government traders, Andrew Myrick, was asked to sell the Indians food on credit. Not only did he refuse to help a starving people, but he was cruel about it. Dejected, we went back to the school.
I knew the Indians were desperate, so I asked our headmaster when we were going to leave. He scoffed at the idea, saying we had to get ready for the fall term. I'm not that foolish. I started packing.
Two days later four young Dakota men were on a hunting trip. With all the white settlers coming into the area, there was no game. So instead they attacked Acton Township and killed 5 white settlers. A Council was convened and the war chief, Little Crow agreed that there should be more attacks to drive the white settlers out.
One of the first places hit was the Lower Sioux agency. Andrew Myrick's body was found with grass stuffed in his mouth. A fitting end. The Dakota set the buildings at the agency on fire, which gave time for the settlers in the area to escape to the nearby Army headquarters. There was a battle at Redwood Ferry where most of the soldiers and their commander were killed.
Our students and Indian staff informed us of all this. They urged us to leave. Our headmaster refused. We could see smoke rising in all directions from settlements burning. And then a war party rode up to the school. Our headmaster stepped out in the open to talk to them. His bravery was appreciated, but his lack of understanding of the situation was not. The warriors wanted to loot and then to burn. He refused. He was shot and killed where he stood.
I knew Mr. Banks was not up to the task, so I stepped out. Because my Lakota is not as clear as I would have liked, I used a combination of English and sign language. "Greetings." I started. "I am Miss Ray, one of the teachers here. I am also the adopted daughter of Looks to the Heart of the Cree."
There was surprise at that. My Cree father is well known. I continued. "You wish food and what is here before you destroy the buildings. I understand. But I wish to offer a compromise." There was some grumbling at that.
"Go on woman." the leader stated.
"We are leaving. All that is here should belong to the Lakota. We ask for our lives and the right to bring the few belongs we have with us. We are teachers. They (and I indicated the other two) are not warriors." I knew they would catch the commission of myself. "We have been taking care of your people as best as we were able. Can we work together to distribute what little there is to your people?"
I could see the leader was thinking about it when a surly looking brave on his left yelled out, "Why are we listening to this white woman? We should just kill them, take what we want and burn the place!"
All of a sudden our sudden our students, our blessed, blessed students came out of hiding and formed a line between the braves and us. I wanted to hug all of them for their bravery! One of the older boys stepped out as spokesman. "We ask you to spare the lives of these teachers and to listen to what they have to say. All throughout the winter they have given the People their own food and have taken many of us in during the worst of the winter. They have good hearts."
Despite my shock, I was thinking fast. The leader turned to me. "What do you say to this?"
"These children are very brave, but they are Lakota and I expect that of them. If you are willing, we can go inside the big house where we can cook food. Then we can talk. Your wisdom is needed in deciding what is the best way to distribute what is left here."
All of the warriors were agreeable to that. The older girls had been learning white cooking skills, so they were able to help Miss Ellis and I prepare a simple meal of fried bread and salt pork. We opened and passed around a jar of preserves too. As I had expected, the warriors loved the preserves. And the rest of the food. With full stomachs, it was easier to walk the leader and his sub-chiefs (including surly) around the property to talk about the assets. At one point the leader looked at me and said, "A strong woman like you should have a husband. Have you not found a mate amongst the whites?
I smiled and said, "I am promised to a Kiowa brave."
"Why is he not here?"
"Once he hears what has happened, he will be."
After we had looked at everything (including the rooms of Miss Ellis and I), the leader told us, "You have three days to leave here. You may take your own belongings. We will take the weapons and horses now."
Mr. Banks spoke up. "Will you leave us the wagon at least? We need to bury our headmaster in our cemetery and will need the cart for that." After I explained the request in Lakota terms, the leader agreed. They left soon after, but promised to return. Mr. Banks took the older boys with him to bury the headmaster. We would have services later. Miss Ellis and I started organizing the stuff in the buildings.
But first I took a minute to sit down. We had just faced down death. I don't think I will ever forget that moment. The smell of settlements in the area burning. Mr. Banks and I bloody from trying to help (and then move) the headmaster. Summer heat, dust, and knowing that for now I was alive. It was a very strange feeling.
Before sunset enough was done that we took time out for services for the headmaster. The children came as well. After dinner we sent them all home. There would be more work the next day. I told Mr. Banks and Miss Ellis that they should start their own packing. They should pack two ways-if we had use of the cart and horses, or if we had to walk. My own packing was mostly done. I spent quite a while helping my friend sort, and then we both wearily found our beds.
The next morning promised a hot day. But that didn't matter, we still had a lot of work to do. By noon most of the sorting was done and we sent the children home with lots of stuff for their families. Other things we were leaving in piles for the tribal elders to distribute. We left the stove and much of the kitchen intact. We had offered the house to Little Crow as the war chief. With his status he and his family deserved the fine home. I doubted he would be able to live in it long, but the offer was sincere.
The other two went to finish their packing. I took the time and solitude to seek the spirits. I had just finished praying and had gone back to sorting things on the porch when I saw a lone rider with two horses. I would recognize that mounted figure anywhere. It was Buck! I ran down to meet him and jumped up into his arms. I was finally, finally where I wanted and needed to be.
We very quickly decided that the two horses could pull the small wagon the school owned. I don't think the Quaker church was going to miss it. Early the next morning the four of us left. Our children and some of their families came to wish us well. It was very touching.
The nearest military outpost was in ashes, but there would be others farther away. As we drove away, I prayed for my students and their families. With how I know the military overacts, I knew that many of them would probably be injured or even die in the reprisals. They would probably loose even this poor bit of land and be forced onto another reservation, even further from their holy places. So very sad.
As the miles rolled past us I started thinking about the future. I was pretty sure that, given time, Mr. Banks and Miss Ellis would come to an understanding and find a way to marry. It would be a good match. But what about Buck and I? I realized, as I thought about it, that I no longer wanted to teach on a reservation. I think that dream burned out with the ashes of the U.S. government promises and the ashes of the white settlers homes. I'm ready now, in fact, eager to start my life with Buck. The question is though, is he ready to be married to me?
