The Plainsman - Part 4

(Cont. from last week)

(by Dan R. Conway - originally published in the Hysham Echo on Sept. 23, 1926)

“The firing then became general, the hostiles soon enclosing us on three sides. Our Indian scouts who had followed us, took position about three hundred yards below; only one of the “Bannock,” riding coolly through the fire to join us. I remember that he joined me in scaling a bank that overlooked our position, and together we drove off five Indians who were crawling to reach the brow of the bank. They were not fifteen yards away, and disappeared before we could get in a shot. We fired at a party riding across the flat and had the satisfaction of knocking one off his horse.

“They made it so hot for us here that I was forced to rejoin my companions in the oak grove. The “Bannock,” however, concealed himself in the grass and did good execution during the engagement. This Indian did not know what fear was.
“By this time the command had become aware of our predicament and a detachment under Lieutenant Hargous, of the Fifth, had been sent to help us out. The approach of this force and the fire of the field Napoleon gun which sent a shell directly over us drove the Indians, or seemed to, from our front, and about dusk, we took advantage of the lull and got out of there.

“Over 100 Indians were opposed to us. At the first fire one Indian was knocked down, another was struck from his horse in the fight that followed; but from the particular tactics and mode of fighting of these people it is impossible to tell if others were hit. All of my party were good shots and trained frontiersmen.

“The next morning the Indians were all around us and a very pretty fight followed which lasted all day.”

How Pemmican Was Made

When referring to his experiences while in the company of the Red River half-breeds, Kelly gives a very interesting description of Indian “pemmican” and the process which is employed in its preparation. He says:
“These people, (the Bois-Brûlés), did not make pemmican while I was with them, as I left before the meat was dry enough to work up, but having witnessed the process many times since then I will describe it here.

“The buffaloes being killed and scattered over a considerable area of ground, all hands turn in and cut up the meat, which is packed to camp. Here it is cut into great slabs, the thickness of one’s finger, and hung on long lines of rawhide or lariat to dry in the sun. When thoroughly dry the meat, much reduced in weight and size, is toasted slightly on coals, then placed on rawhides or stiff canvas and broken up as much as possible with flails, very much like those used in threshing wheat.

“The desiccated meat is then placed in rawhide sacks and the mass is solidified by pouring in hot tallow or marrow fat, and the sacks are fastened with raw-thongs in much the same way that sacks of grain are tied. One pound of this wholesome and concentrated food is equal to about ten pounds of fresh meat. It will keep in that condition one to two years. The desiccated meat, fresh from contact with live coals, is most appetizing and sustaining, and when mixed with marrow fat it makes a rich food.”

The knowledge that Kelly was able to give government officers in the early ‘70s proved of greatest value to the military leaders who conducted the campaign against the Sioux, in which he took active part as scout successively for Terry, Custer and Miles. His adventures during these years will compare with those of Daniel Boone, David Crockett, Kit Carson and Colonel Cody, or any of the other heroes of frontier days in America.

“Yellowstone” Kelly, differing from other plainsman, was destined to play a part in later day army history after most of his associates of the Indian wars had retired from active service. In 1883, he was scout for the government, being attached to war department for service of various kinds. In 1898 he went to Alaska on exploration work. Later in that year, he returned to the United States to take a commission as captain in a voluntary regiment in the Philippine campaign. There, after the war, he was appointed as treasury officer of one of the larger provinces. Four years later he was appointed United States Indian agent for the Apaches and Mojaves, with headquarters at San Carlos, Arizona. He continued in such service until 14 years ago, when he retired and took up his residence at Paradise, California.

The activities of this typical plainsman, “Yellowstone” Kelly, perhaps, cover as wide a range of years, and as great a variety of service as any man who has been connected with the military service of the United States government. Print this post