CHAPTER III.
The First Photograph of Sitting Bull, and His Age.
While the writer is making every effort to procure facts and such matter as will be of interest to his readers, he is just at this time in doubts about perfecting his plans to have Sitting Bull sit for his photograph. Never up to this time has he been situated so that one could be taken. It is expected that he will come down from Fort Buford on the steamer " General Sherman," en route to the Standing Rock Agency, where he and most of his tribes will remain for a time. I have arranged with a photographer, at quite a large expense, to go down on the steamer and secure the first photo that has ever been taken of our surrendered red brother.
A river pilot just down from Fort Buford states that the old chief is quite reticent and sullen. He recognized him, however, saying he always had a good and warm heart for river men, and finally wanted a dollar in the way of heap-good-friendship. Soon after this interview, a party of citizens, ladies and gentlemen, called upon the sullen chief at his camp, and he refused to come out for the purpose of making an exhibition of himself, and after exhausting their patience and persuasion and a-heap-o'-good-honey-tongued-coaxing, as the cunning warrior would phrase it, they offered him one dollar apiece if he would come out and talk a few moments, but he stubbornly and very sullenly refused.
Should he continue to be stubborn after arriving at Standing Bock, we of course will fail to get his photo, but we intend to have it, that is if it can be had by any reasonable amount of moral persuasion, as he would say himself, " this side of the happy hunting grounds." We have known war-chiefs to act stubbornly for many months after they had surrendered, and for no other reason only it was, to use their own phrase, " bad medicine, heap bad; no good." They would often say it was " the Great Spirit going to strike them," and there is no doubt as to their entertaining such superstition in real earnestness.
The writer at one time knew of a photographer who went quietly to the camp of a once leading war chief, who had already surrendered, and covering himself and his apparatus with a blanket, set himself to work trying to get his camera in range, when all at once he heard a clicking outside, that, to say the least, sounded not at all agreeable, and at once uncovering, found himself modestly arrayed within short range of the stalwart chief, with a Spencer carbine in hand, cocked and ready for instant action. The cool-headed and persuasive photographer succeeded in becoming master of the situation, by gently persuading the war chief that he meant nothing wrong, and had already taken a score or more of the leading war chiefs, all of whom were well pleased, also, that all of the big officers in the army had their pictures taken, so their wives and children and the great father at Washington, could see them. Upon this statement the old chief walked down to the rooms of the photographer, and sat for his photo, with all his head-gear, galligaskins And other toggery that helped to make up his regalia, in order that his shapely figure might take a position alongside of that of a major-general, saying he wanted the white folks to hang his pictures on the wall in their houses, and that he would take two to Washington, one for the great father, and one for the big white chief; not the big soldier chiefs, meaning Generals Sherman and Sheridan, but the red man's friends, President Hayes and Secretary Shurtz.
The question of securing photos of warriors just after they have surrendered may be quite well explained in the Indian's own language : " May-be-so-a-heap-bad-medicine. May-be-so-white-man's-heart – a – heap – bad. Great – Spirit-strike-red-man-too-quick." As the Indians are at times allowed to go about officers' quarters at the military posts, and visit among their families more or less, this prejudice and superstition has gradually worn away, so that in most cases the photographer in time has but little trouble in securing their photos, even from those most stubborn at first.
If we secure this photo, the readers of this book will have the honor and pleasure, if such it is, of seeing the first and only one that has ever been taken. We will not cease our efforts in trying to procure it, and, if necessary, will wait several days before passing this MSS. into the hands of the publisher.
Of our military officers that have seen Sitting Bull and conversed with him, all agree in saying that he is an artful and brave warrior, and an Indian of very superior ability, and possesses unusual powers of endurance. His indomitable energy and bull-dog tenacity has drawn toward him the utmost respect of all his subordinate chiefs and warriors, and it is not probable a surrender would have been effected for some time to come, had it not been for the nearly naked and half-starved condition of his old men, women and children.
The steamer " General Sherman " has just landed with Sitting Bull and about one hundred and fifty old men, women and children, including about thirty warriors. His father, and White Bear, a handsome-looking and good-natured chief, accompany him as close attendants, apparently as staff officers. The writer, by special permission, boarded the steamer, and upon entering the cabin found " standing room only," men, women and children of all ages, sizes and nationalities, had gathered from the rural districts and adjacent towns in the surrounding country, composed the audience, all of whom were anxiously waiting their turn to " shake and how " with the famous old war-horse. The writer considered his mission and interview with the chief too important to " get left," and at once mounted a chair in the front end of the cabin, and looking over the surging crowd, at last caught a glimpse of a row of six Indians, all sitting at the left side of the cabin, with scout Allison standing beside Sitting Bull. I succeeded in getting through the crowd and reaching the point where Allison stood, who at once gave me a formal introduction to "Chief Sitting Bull," who sat in a chair at the head of the row. Mr. Allison,, knowing that I was concluding my last chapter of this book, was, in his always courteous manner, very obliging to me,, and took special pains to tell the chief that I was the "white chief of a book," and an old Indian trader. The chief looked up rather smilingly, and at the same time extending his right hand and drawing his blanket, that covered a once white shirt, more closely around his broad shoulders with the other, said, " How." I at once returned the " how," and then made some signs known in the Southern Indian language as "friendship," which he seemed to recognize at once and rather good-naturedly. Preparatory to going on the steamer, and bent upon getting his photograph, if possibly within the reach of human ingenuity, I put in my pocket a photo of my own (like the one on this frontispiece), with the view of giving it to him, provided, however, I found him in the right kind of humor, knowing very well the prejudices that had been inculcated from the aboriginal pre-instruction of many of his race.
Upon giving him the photo, " White Bear," who sat at the= foot of the semi-circle row, looked up in a wishful and pleasing manner, and extending his hand to shake said, " How, how," evidently much pleased to meet a pale-faced stranger who could talk the language of the red man by signs.
After extending the usual " shake and how " with him, I turned to Sitting Bull's father, whose Indian name is " Four Horns," who was very reticent, although quite good-natured. He is an Indian quite under medium stature, with shoulders somewhat bent to the front, and, to try a guess on his age,
would say quite close to seventy. He seemed to accept Lis situation quite willingly, at the same time showed a rather tiresome air, which led me to believe that he was actually tired of being on the war-path, and only too glad to be at peace, and no doubt thinks it better for him, as well as others of his age, to be settled upon reservations, where they can freely partake of government rations and draw their annuity goods semi-annually, even if " the bad young braves " do go out in raiding parties occasionally. As to the latter, ho probably cares but very little, and will never give himself any uneasiness, even if all the young braves on the Missouri River should turn loose upon the frontier; but as far as he is personally concerned, there is no question t›ut that he intends to live quietly upon a reservation and Abide by such rules and laws as will be made to govern it.