November 30, 1870
These past few weeks have been very unsettling, and in times such as these, I wish I knew of Stripe's whereabouts. I could use some peace of mind. He gave testimony and was promptly dismissed, presumably placed on hiatus, though I heard he was out there looking for Colin Day. However, I digress.
Since my last inscription, there have been a total of twelve massacres committed upon the native tribes. Apache, Paiute, Miami—all indiscriminate. Sheridan denied any responsibility for these grisly atrocities but commissioned a further investigation to locate the perpetrators. And the same imprints of a continuous track were noted at each scene. Like they were in the first report, the tracks simply disappeared after about five or six miles. It is hard for me not to consider SWAT fully operational, and that the empire Ivo K. so gleefully described is steadily forming, but I do not wish to recoil in madness or despair. I wrote this entry not to dwell on the ghastly crimes themselves, but to put forth details regarding that immense and monstrous vehicle.
I read the account of a young Apache girl who survived the slaughter of her tribe. She described the vehicle as such: "Big, made of iron, and poisoned the air with black smoke. It made the sound of a dying animal when it moved. It had a big, spinning thorn coming from its head." She claimed the vehicle arrived sometime after midnight with a contingency of armored men behind it. In her final declaration, she said, "I did not see the man who rode atop it, but his right hand was a steel Eagle's claw." I sent a telegram to Emmett. I do not know what good it will do, but I feel as though I must do something.