(26) In 1883, I witnessed one of the most amazing ceremonies which the Indian life of the Old West produced, and at the same time spent a few of the most uncomfortable hours of my life.

     In those days I was part owner of a herd of cattle ranging on the forks of the North Loup, about one hundred and fifty miles northwest of North Platte, Nebraska. My partners--one from Jacksonville, Illinois, and the other from Herrick Center, Pennsylvania were men many years my senior. Both being desirous of seeing how the cattle looked after the spring roundup, I had sent word to the ranch foreman to meet us in North Platte, and he had driven in with a light spring wagon, a good pony team, and two saddle horses.

     In deference to our "distinguished guests," before starting for the ranch we purchased a fine assortment of supplies, among which were many delicacies which a cow man would never think of finding on his menu. These were loaded on the spring wagon and, since this offered the easiest method of transportation, our guests were allotted to that conveyance. With the foreman and I riding on ahead, we set out. We were three days making the trip, the only house we passed on our way being that of Beach Hinman on the Birdwood. John Bratt & Company had several ranches in that vicinity, but they were off our trail.

     On arriving at our destination we were informed that two days hence there was to be "big doings" at the Pine Ridge Agency, about fifty miles distant. The Indians, it seems, had been clamoring for a Sun Dance for (27) years, but this ceremony was forbidden by the Government. Their pleas had finally become so insistent, however, that the White Father in Washington had relented and given consent for one final celebration, after which there was to be no more forever. Word of this had been sent to all the Sioux tribes and, judging from reports brought in by the couriers, it was estimated that 20,000 Indians might be expected to attend. This seemed like a spectacle worth viewing, and we decided that we could not afford to miss it. So again we started out, my two partners in the spring wagon, the foreman and I riding ahead as before.

     As we neared the encampment we began to pass lone tepees, sticking out of the prairie like giant shocks of corn, and soon we were entering the Indian village, which consisted of one long, wide street lined on both sides with rows of smoke-blackened tepees. The space between these rough shelters was literally surging with Indians, who gazed at us with eyes seemingly devoid of friendliness. At first the sight of this assemblage did no more than give us a slight feeling of nervousness, but as we penetrated farther into the crowd this sensation increased until, although none of us would admit it, we all felt as though we were treading on very thin ice, the chill of which had reached our spines. The vast numbers of savages not only appalled us, but suggestions would keep coming as to what might be our fate should the Government decide to revoke its permission, or a heedless white start an irremediable disturbance, or the Indians suddenly emboldened by their superior numbers decide to rid themselves of their alien visitors. With such thoughts we passed through the throng, the foreman and I leading, as usual, by about two hundred yards.

     That our fear was not entirely without cause was proven to us when, on looking back to see if our friends (28) were coming, we beheld an army of squaws following the wagon and unloading it as fast as they could grab. Bedding, camp outfit, grain for the horses, food-everything aboard was going out, while my two partners, not daring to remonstrate, looked straight ahead and wondered, I imagine, if they, too, were destined to follow the supplies.

     Seeing the uselessness of interfering, the foreman and I rode straight ahead until we reached the Sutler's Store. Here we stopped, and presently the wagon drove up. There was nothing left in it but the two men. To make a complaint was plainly useless, and indeed there was no one to whom we might complain. The Agency employed about twenty whites, but what could they do against an army of Indians? Anticipating the Sun Dance, the Government had removed all its troops from the vicinity, thus leaving the Indians freed from restraint. The only thing to do was to wink at our loss and grin, and this we tried to do.

     Hearing that exercises were going on a short distance out, we went to a vantage point near the center of the crowd. So far as we could see, we were the only whites in that vast assemblage. In the arena a pole twenty feet high had been erected, in the tip of which a hole had been bored. Through this a half-inch rope was passed and knotted, the loose end reaching to the ground. The Indian youth who sought tribal honors would advance and permit slits to be cut in his breast, through which the end of the rope was inserted and then tied. Whereupon, standing erect and with arms outstretched a short distance from the pole, he would sway backward on the rope without a sign of pain until the weight of his body tore open the flesh and, thus released, he would fall to the ground, whence he would immediately arise. Thus, having passed the test for courage, he became a full-fledged warrior, eligible (29) for the war path or any other dangerous mission that might be assigned him.

     After witnessing the scene for a short time we returned to the store, more than ever impressed with the thoughts of what might be our end should some untoward event cause those twenty thousand Indians to turn on us. A long distance from the ranch, our supplies exhausted, we were all of one mind in our desire to put distance between ourselves and the Sioux. So, laying in a few provisions, we started our homeward trek, making sure to avoid the squaws and papooses by a detour around the villages.

     Notwithstanding the fact that our ranch was fifty miles from the scene of the festivities, we were not wholly free from the fear, on our arrival there, that a scalping party might take to the war path and track us down. So the next day my partners started back for the railroad, having seen few cattle, but plenty of Indians, and no doubt consoled for the loss of the delicacies we had purchased for them, with the thought that these same delicacies were cheering many a savage palate.

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