Just outside of a fine large wigwam of smoke-tanned buffalo-skins stood Tawasu- ota, very early upon an August morning of the year 1862. Behind the wigwam there might have been seen a thrifty patch of growing maize, whose tall, graceful stalks resembled as many warriors in dancing- dresses and tasseled head-gear.
"Thanks be to the 'Great Mystery,' I have been successful in the fortunes of war! None can say that Tawasuota is a coward. I have done well; so well that our chief, Little Crow, has offered me the honored position of his chief soldier, ta akich-itah!" he said to himself with satisfaction.
The sun was just over the eastem bank of the Minnesota River, and he could distinctly see upon the level prairie the dwellings of logs which had sprung up there during the year, since Little Crow's last treaty with the whites. "Ugh! they are taking from us our beautiful and game-teeming country!" was his thought as he gazed upon them.
At that moment, out of the conical white teepee, in shape like a new- born mushroom, there burst two little frisky boys, leaping and whooping.
They were clad gracefully in gar- ments of fine deerskin, and each wore a minia- ture feather upon his head, marking them as children of a distinguished warrior.
They danced nimbly around their father, while he stood with all the dignity of a buck elk, viewing the landscape reddened by sunrise and the dwellers therein, the old and the new, the red and the white. He noticed that they were still unmingled; the river divided them.
At last he took the dancing little embryo warriors one in either hand, and lifted them to his majestic shoulders. There he placed them in perfect poise. His haughty spirit found a moment's happiness in fatherhood.
Suddenly Tawasuota set the two boys on the ground again, and signed to them to enter the teepee. Apparently all was quiet. The camps and villages of the Minnesota reservation were undisturbed, so far as he could see, save by the awakening of nature; and the early risers among his people moved about in seeming se- curity, while the smoke of their morning fires arose one by one into the blue. Still the war- rior gazed steadily westward, up the river, whence his quick ear had caught the faint but ominous sound of a distant war-whoop.
The ridge beyond the Wahpeton village bounded the view, and between this point and his own village were the agency buildings and the traders' stores. The Indian's keen eye swept the horizon, and finally alighted once more upon the home of his new neighbor across the river, the flaxen-haired white man with many children, who with his white squaw and his little ones worked from sunrise to sunset, much like the beaver family.
Ah! the distant war-whoop once more saluted his ear, but this time nearer and more distinct.
"What! the Rice Creek band is coming in full war-paint! Can it be another Ojibway at- tack? Ugh, ugh! I will show their warriors again this day what it is to fight!" he exclaimed aloud.
The white traders and Government employ- ees, those of them who were up and about, heard and saw the advancing column of war- riors. Yet they showed no sign of anxiety or fear. Most of them thought thatthere might be some report of Ojibways coming to attack the Sioux,--a not uncommon incident,--and that those warriors were on their way to the post to replenish their powder-horns. A few of the younger men were delighted with the prospect of witnessing an Indian fight.
On swept the armed band, in numbers in- creasing at every village.
It was true that there had been a growing feeling of distrust among the Indians, because their annuities had been withheld for a long time, and the money payments had been delayed again and again. There were many in great need. The traders had given them credit to some extent (charging them four times the value of the article purchased), and had like- wise induced Little Crow to sign over to them ninety-eight thousand dollars, the purchase-price of that part of their reservation lying north of the Minnesota, and already occupied by the whites.
This act had made the chief very unpop- ular, and he was ready for a desperate ven- ture to regain his influence. Certain warriors among the upper bands of Sioux had even threatened his life, but no one spoke openly of a break with the whites.
When, therefore, the news came to Little Crow that some roving hunters of the Rice Creek band had killed in a brawl two families of white settlers, he saw his opportunity to show once for all to the disaffected that he had no love for the white man. Immediately he sprang upon his white horse, and prepared to make their cause a general one among his people.
Tawasuota had scarcely finished his hasty preparations for war, by painting his face and seeing to the loading of his gun, when he heard the voice of Little Crow outside his lodge.
"You are now my head soldier," said the chief, "and this is your first duty. Little Six and his band have inaugurated the war against the whites. They have already wiped out two families, and are now on their way to the agency.Let my chief soldier fire the first shot.
"Those Indians who have cut their hair and donned the white man's clothing may give the warning; so make haste! If you fall to-day, there is no better day on which to die, and the women of our tribe will weep proud tears for Tawasuota. I leave it with you to lead my warriors." With these words the wily chief galloped away to meet the war-party.
"Here comes Little Crow, the friend of the white man!" exclaimed a warrior, as he ap- proached.
"Friends and warriors, you will learn to-day who are the friends of the white man, and none will dare again to insinuate that I have been against the interests of my own people," he replied.
After a brief consultation with the chiefs he advised the traders:
"Do not hesitate to fill the powder-horns of my warriors; they may be compelled to fight all day."Soon loud yells were heard along the road to the Indian village.
"Ho, ho! Tawasuota u ye do!" (He is coming; he is coming!") shouted the warriors in chorus.
