been hid in the sand; two soldiers discovered her,
drew their pistols and shot her, and then pulled her
out of the sand by her arm,’ &c.

This occurred at the time government officials in
Denver had sent for them,—had a ‘ talk’ with them,
—advising them to go just where they were. Before
he was killed, Black Kettle, one of the chiefs, thus
addressed the governor at Denver :—

‘We have come with our eyes shut, following
Major Wynkoop’s handful of men, like coming through
the fire. All we ask is, that we may have peace with
the whites. We want to hold you by the hand. You
are our father. We have been travelling through a
cloud. The sky has been dark ever since the war began.

‘'These braves who are here with me, are willing to
do all I say. We want to take good news home to
our people, that they may sleep in peace.

‘Ihave not come here with alitile wolf-bark! But
have come to talk plain with you. We must live
near the buffalo or starve. When I go home, I will
tell my people I have taken your hand, and all of the
white chiefs in Denver, and then they will feel well,
and so will all the tribes on the plains, when we have
eaten and drank with them.’

And yet one hundred and twenty friendly Indians
were slain, and the war that followed cost 40,000,000
dollars.

A council of Indians was held previous to the
‘Chivington massacre,’ which stamped the character
of Black Kettle, the Cheyenne chief, as noble and
brave. It seems that he had purchased from an Ara-
pahoe band two girls named Laura Roper, aged
eighteen, and Belle Ewhanks, aged six years, who
were captured by the Indians after attacking Roper’s
ranch, on the Little Blue River, in July, 1864.
little boys were also captured at the same time. They
were carried off to the Republican River, and Black
Kettle bought them for five or six ponies, to give them
to their parents. Certainly generous act. He gave
them up, and met the Commissioners in council, to-
gether with several Arapahoe chiefs of small bands,
all of whom were confederate together to kill the
Commissioners and bring on a general war.

Black Kettle knew it, and was determined to ex-
pose the plot and break it up. But the party of white
officials, with Colonel E. W. Wynkoop, were in the
dark about their evil intentions. The Indians called
Colonel W. ‘The Tall Chief that don’t lie.’

‘Black Kettle’-—Mo-ke-ta-va-ta—Colonel Tappan
says, ‘was the most remarkable man of the age for
magnanimity, generosity, courage, and integrity. His
hospitality to destitute emigrants and travellers on the
plains for years had no limit within the utmost extent
of his means; giving liberally of his stores of pro-
visions, clothing, and horses. His fame as an orator
was widely known. He was great in council, and his
word was law. Hundreds of whites are indebted to
him for their lives... He held Colonel Chivington’s
men at bay for seven hours, and carried to a place of
safety three hundred of his women and children,—
twenty of his braves and his own wife pierced with
a dozen bullets.

‘ Previous to the conflict, after his two brothers had
been shot down and cut to pieces before his eyes
(while approaching the troops to notify them of the
friendly character of the Indians), he aided three

Two |

 

white men to escape from the village; one of them a
soldier. They were his guests, whom he suspected of

being spies, ‘ but did not knowit,” and they are now '

living to the eternal fame and honour of the chieftain.
From Sand Creek he fled to the Sioux camp, where it
was determined to make war upon the whites in
retaliation. He protested against interfering with
women and children, and insisted upon fighting the
men. He was overruled. ‘Thereupon he resigned his
office as treasurer, and assumed the garb of a brave.
He soon after made peace for his tribe, which was
faithfully kept until the burning of their village two
years afterwards. A war again ensued, in which he
took no part, having promised never again to raise his
hands against the whites. He was the first to meet
the Peace Commissioners at Medicine Lodge Creek.
His many services and virtues plead like angels trum-
pet-tongued against the deep damnation of his
taking off’

Well, when the council assembled, among them
were about a dozen chiefs of Arapahoes, Cheyennes,
&c.; the worst of whom was Neva,—Longnose,—an
Arapahoe with one eye, and that a very ugly one.
He was an outlaw, commanding twenty or thirty war-
riors. All were seated in a tent, and this fellow
became boisterous, and wrangled, clamouring for a
general war against all whites. It was a most excit-
ing time. The chiefs stripped almost naked, and
worked themselves up into a great excitement. At

. last, Black Kettle rose up, and pointing his finger at

Neva, thus addressed him :—

‘You! you call yourself brave! I know what you
mean. You come here to kill these white friends,
whom I have invited to come and have a talk with
us. ‘They don’t know what you mean, but Ido. You
brave! (sneeringly.) I'll tell you what you are: your
mouth is wide, so (measuring a foot with his hands),
—your tongue so long (with his forefinger marking
six inches on his arm),—and it hangs in the middle,
going both ways. You're a coward, and dare not fight
me.’ Here all the Indians gave a grunt of approba-
tion. ‘Now, go,’ said he, ‘and begone! This council
is broken up; I have said it; you hear my words;
begone!’ And they slunk off, completely cowed down,

Dog-soldiers were with them, well equipped for a
big fight, and these white men beguiled, would all
have been slain only for Mo-ke-ta-va-ta. A ‘dog-
soldier’ is a youth who has won gradually, by suecess-
ful use of the bow and arrow, a position to use the
gun, and stand to the warriors just as our police force
do to us, in guarding property, &c. These boys have
a stick, called a ‘coo,’ on which they make a notch
for everything they kill,—a kind of tally,—and when
the coo is of a certain length they are promoted to
the rank of a ‘ dog-soldier’

THE PRICE OF A PLEASURE,

CF PON the valley’s lap
} The liberal morning throws
él A thousand drops of dew,
To wake a single rose.
Thus often, in the course
Of Life’s few fleeting years,
A single pleasure costs
The soul a thousand tears.