The famous war-chief dismounted in silence, gun in hand, and walked directly toward the larger store.
"Friend," he exclaimed, "we may both meet the 'Great Mystery' to-day, but you must go first."There was a loud report, and the unsuspect- ing white man lay dead. It was James Lynd, one of the early traders, and a good friend to the Indians.
No sooner had Tawasuota fired the fatal shot than every other Indian discharged his piece. Hither and thither ran the frantic people, seek- ing safety, but seeking it in vain. They were wholly unprepared and at the mercy of the foe.
The friendly Indians, too, were taken entirely by surprise. They had often heard wild talk of revolt, but it had never had the indorsement of intelligent chiefs, or of such a number as to carry any weight to their minds. Christian In- dians rushed in every direction to save, if pos- sible, at least the wives and children of the Gov- ernment employees. Meanwhile, the new white settlements along the Minnesota River were utterly unconscious of any danger. Not a soul dreamed of the terrible calamity that each pass- ing moment was bringing nearer and nearer.
Tawasuota stepped aside, and took up his pipe. He seemed almost oblivious of what he had done. While the massacre still raged about him in all its awful cruelty, he sat smoking and trying to think collectedly, but his mind was confused, and in his secret thoughts he rebelled against LittleCrow. It was a cowardly deed that he had been ordered to commit, he thought; for he had won his reputation solely by brave deeds in battle, and this was more like murdering one of his own tribesmen--this kill- ing of an unarmed white man. Up to this time the killing of a white man was not counted the deed of a warrior; it was murder.
The lesser braves might now satisfy their spite against the traders to their hearts' con- tent, but Tawasuota had been upon the best of terms with all of them.
Suddenly a ringing shout was heard. The chief soldier looked up, and beheld a white man, nearly nude, leap from the roof of the larger store and alight upon the ground hard by him.
He had emptied one barrel of his gun, and, if he chose to do so, could have killed Myrick then and there; but he made no move, exclaim- ing:
"Ho, ho!Nina iyaye!"("Run, run!")
Away sped the white man in the direction of the woods and the river. "Ah, he is swift; he will save himself," thought Tawasuota.
All the Indians had now spied the fugitive; they yelled and fired at him again and again, as if they were shooting at a running deer; but he only ran faster. Just as he had reached the very edge of the sheltering timber a single shot rang out, and he fell headlong.
A loud war-whoop went up, for many be- lieved that this was one of the men who had stolen their trust funds.
Tawasuota continued to sit and smoke in the shade while the carnage and plunder that he had set on foot proceeded on all sides of him. Presently men began to form small parties to cross the river on their mission of death, but he refused to join any of them. At last, several of the older warriors came up to smoke with him.
"Ho, nephew," said one of them with much gravity, "you have precipitated a dreadful ca- lamity. This means the loss of our country, the destruction of our nation. What were you thinking of?"It was the Wahpeton chief who spoke, a blood-relation to Tawasuota. He did not at once reply, but filled his pipe in silence, and handed it to the man who thus reproached him. It was a just rebuke; for he was a brave man, and he could have refused the request of his chief to open themassacre.
At this moment it was announced that a body of white soldiers were on the march from Fort Ridgeley. A large body of warriors set out to meet them.
"Nephew, you have spilled the first blood of the white man; go, join in battle with the sol- diers. They are armed; they can defend them- selves," remarked the old chief, and Tawasuota replied:
"Uncle, you speak truth; I have committed the act of a coward. It was not of my own will I did it; nevertheless, I have raised my weapon, and I will fight the whites as long as I live. If I am ever taken, they will first have to kill me." He arose, took up his gun, and joined the war- party.
The dreadful day of massacre was almost ended. The terrified Sioux women and children had fled up the river before the approaching troops. Long shafts of light from the setting sun painted every hill; one side red as with blood, the other dark as the shadow of death. A cloud of smoke from burning homes hung over the beautiful river. Even the permanent dwellings of the Indians were empty, and all the teepees which had dotted with their white cones the west bank of the Minnesota had dis- appeared. Here and there were small groups of warriors returning from their bloody work, and among them was Tawasuota.
He looked long at the spot where his home had stood; but it was gone, and with it his family. Ah, the beautiful country of his an- cestors! he must depart from it forever, for he knew now that the white man would occupy that land. Sadly he sang the spirit-song, and made his appeal to the "Great Mystery," ex- cusing himself by the plea that what he had done had been in the path of duty. There was no glory in it for him; he could wear no eagle feather, nor could he ever recount the deed. It was dreadful to him--the thought that he had fired upon an unarmed and helpless man.
The chief soldier followed the broad trail of the fleeing host, and after some hours he came upon a camp. There were no war-songs nor dances there, as was their wont after a bat- tle, but a strange stillness reigned. Even the dogs scarcely barked at his approach; every- thing seemedconscious of the awful carnage of the day.
He stopped at a tent and inquired after his beautiful wife and two little sons, whom he had already trained to uphold their father's repu- tation, but was directed to his mother's teepee.
