My Captivity Among the Sioux Indians. Fanny Kelly
The Attack and the Capture
A train of wagons were coursing their westward way, with visions of the future bright as our own. Sometimes a single team might be seen traveling alone.
Our party were among the many small squads emigrating to the land of promise.
The day on which our doomed family were scattered and killed was the 12th of July, a warm and oppressive day. The burning sun poured forth its hottest rays upon the great Black Hills and the vast plains of Montana, and the great emigrant road was strewed with' men, women, and children, and :Bocks of cattle, representing towns of adventurers.
We looked anxiously forward to the approach of evening, with a sense of relief, after the excessive peat of the day.
Our journey had been pleasant, but toilsome, for we had been long weeks on the road.
Slowly our wagons wound through the timber that skirted the Little Box Elder, and, crossing the stream, we ascended the opposite bank.
We had no thought of danger or timid misgivings on the subject or savages, for our fears had been all dispersed by constantly received assurances of their friendliness.
At the outposts and ranches, we heard nothing but ridicule of their pretensions to warfare, and at Fort Laramie, where information that should have been reliable was given us, we had renewed assurances of the safety of the road and friendliness of the Indians.
At Horseshoe Creek, which we had just left, and where there was a telegraph station, our inquiries had elicited similar assurances as to the quiet and peaceful tltate of the country through which we must pass. Being thus persuaded that fears were groundless, we entertained none, and, as I have mentioned before, our small company preferred to travel alone on account of the greater progress made in that way.
The beauty of the sunset and the scenery around us filled our hearts with joy, and Mr. Wakefield's voice was heard in song for the last time, as he sang, "Ho! tor Idaho." Little Mary's low, sweet voice, too, joined in the chorus. She was so happy in her childish glee on that day, as she always was. She was the star and joy of our whole party.
We wended our way peacefully and cheerfully on, without a thought of the danger that was lying like a tiger in ambush in our path.
Without a sound of preparation or a word of warning, the bluff's before us were covered with a party of about two hundred and fifty Indians, painted and equipped for war, who uttered the wild war-whoop and fired a signal volley of guns and revolvers into the air.
This terrible and unexpected apparition came upon us with such startling swiftness that we had not time to think before the main body halted and sent out a part of their force, which"circled us round at regular intervals, but some distance from our wagons. Recovering from the shock, our men instantly resolved on defense, and corralled the wagons. My husband was looked upon as leader, as he was principal owner of the train. Without regard to the insignificance of our numbers,
Mr. Kelly was ready to stand his ground; but, with all the power I could command, I entreated him to forbear and only attempt conciliation. "If you fire one shot," I said, " I feel sure you will seal our fate, as they seem to outnumber us ten to one, and will at once massacre all of us.”
Love for the trembling little girl at my side, my husband, and friends, made me strong to protest against any thing that would lessen our chance for escape with our lives. Poor little Mary! from the first she had entertained an ungovernable dread of the Indians, a repugnance that could not be overcome, although in our intercourse with friendly savages, I had endeavored to show how unfounded it was, and persuade her that they were civil and harmless, but all in vain. Mr. Kelly bought her beads and many little presents from them which she much admired, but she would always add, "They look so cross at me and they have knives and tomahawks, and I fear they will kill me." Could it be that her tender young mind had some presentiment or warning of her horrid fate?
My husband advanced to meet the chief and demand his intentions.
The savage leader immediately came toward him, riding forward and uttering the words, "How! how!" which are understood to mean a friendly salutation.
His name was Ottawa, and he was a war chief of the Ogalalla band of the Sioux· nation. He struck himself on his breast, saying, "Good Indian, me," and pointing to those around him, he continued, "Heap good Indian, hunt buffalo and deer." He assured us of his 'utmost friendship for the white people; then he shook hands, and his band followed his example, crowding around our wagons, shaking us all by the hand over and over again, until our arms ached, and grinning and nodding with every demonstration of good will.
Our only policy seemed to be temporizing, in hope of assistance approaching; and, to gain time, we allowed them unopposed to do whatever they fancied. First, they said they would like to change one of their horses for the one Mr. Kelly was riding, a favorite race horse. Very much against his will, he acceded to their request, and gave up to them the noble animal to which he was fondly attached.
My husband came to me with words of cheer and hope, but oh! what a marked look of despair was upon his face, such as I had never seen before.
The Indians asked for flour, and we gave them what they wanted of provisions. The flour they emptied upon the ground, saying only the sack. They talked to us partly by signs and partly in broken English, with which some of them were quite familiar, and as we were anxions to suit ourselves to their whims and preserve a friendly intercourse as long as possible, we allowed them to take whatever they desired, and offered, them many presents besides. I t was, as I have said before, extremely warm weather, but they remarked that the cold made it necessary for them to look for clothing, and begged for some from our stock, which was granted without the slightest offered objection on our part. I, in a careless-like manner, said they must give me some moccasins for some articles of clothing that I had just handed them, and very pleasantly a young Indian gave me a nice pair, richly embroidered with different colored beads.
Our anxiety to conciliate them increased every moment, for the hope of help arriving from some quarter grew stronger as they dallied, and, alas! it was our only one.
They grew bolder and more insolent in their advances. One of them laid hold of my husband's gun, but, being repulsed, desisted.
The chief at last intimated that he desired us to proceed on our way, promising that we should not be molested. We obeyed, without trusting them, and soon the train was again in motion, the Indians insisting on driving our herd, and growing ominously familiar. Soon my husband called a halt. He saw that we were approaching a rocky glen in whose gloomy depths he anticipated a murderous attack and from which escape would be utterly impossible. Our enemies urged us still forward, but we resolutely refused to stir, when they requested that we should prepare supper, which they said they would share with us, and then go to the hills to sleep. The men of our party concluded it best to give them a feast. Mr. Kelly gave orders to our two colored servants to pre-pare at once to make a feast for the Indians.
Andy said, " I think, if I knows any thing about it, they's had their supper;" as they had been eating sugar crackers from our wagons for an hour or more.
The two colored men had been slaves among the Cherokees, and knew the Indian character by experience. their fear and horror of them was unbounded, and' their terror seemed pitiable to us, as they had worked for us a long time, and were most faithful, trustworthy servants.
Each man was busy preparing the supper;' Mr. Larimer and Frank were making the fire; Mr. Wake-field was getting provisions out of the wagon; Mr. Taylor was attending to his team; Mr. Kelly and .Andy were out some distance gathering wood; Mr. Sharp was distributing sugar among the Indians; supper, that they asked for, was in rapid progress of preparation, when suddenly our terrible enemies threw off their masks and displayed their truly demoniac natures. There was a simultaneous discharge of arms, and when the cloud of smoke cleared away, I could see the retreating form of Mr. Larimer and the slow motion of poor Mr. Wakefield, for he was mortally wounded.
Mr. Kelly and Andy