Post by Californian on Dec 18, 2020 20:00:40 GMT -5
PAUL HIGH BACK BLACK MOON (1870-1947)
This story was told by Paul High Back, a member of the Big Foot band of the Miniconjou Sioux who was raised up in the Cherry Creek area of the Cheyenne River reservation and went down with Big Foot and his band in late December 1890. It was told on September 8, 1940, nearly 50 years after the event, in the Sioux Language to John B. Williamson at Pine Ridge, on the occasion of the Dakota Presbytery meeting at that place that fall. It took nearly 4 hours, from 8:00 p.m. until nearly midnight, in the telling. Paul had come to the mission meeting from Poplar Indian agency in Montana, where he was an elder in the Presbyterian church. He was a tall slender, 6 ft. man, with a slight stoop. He talked only Sioux but very plainly and directly. He rolled up his sleeve and trouser leg to show Mr. Williamson the twisted scars of the bullet wounds he had received nearly half century before. His story so impressed Mr. Williamson that he wrote it out in long hand the next morning while it was fresh and alive in his memory.
My folks lived along Cherry Creek and were members of Big Foot's band. The Ghost Dance had been going on at Pine Ridge for some time. Messengers were sent from them to our reservation and also to the Standing Rock reservation farther north to explain the dance and try to get others to join in the new religion. Quite a few became interested and started dancing, among them being those at Sitting Bull's camp on the Grand River and those in the Cherry Creek band where I lived. After the fight in Sitting Bull's camp, during which he was killed, his followers became alarmed. They were afraid the soldiers would come and kill them all, so they scattered and most of them came south to our settlement on Cherry Creek. We did not know anything about the fight until they came. Their coming made us all afraid and we concluded we had better go to Pine Ridge reservation where the rest of the Ghost Dancers were congregating. We did not go with any idea of trying to fight the soldiers or to make any trouble. We went because we were afraid and did not want to be alone. We wanted to be together. So we left our homes and started for Pine Ridge. There was quite a big company of us. We went down over the prairie and then through the Bad Lands and across the White River. I was one of the four young men who were scouts or outriders and who rode ahead or to one side of the caravan. One night we camped near Porcupine Creek and the next morning the three other young men and I were riding ahead. We had just climbed the hills to get out of the creek valley when we saw three men coming towards us on horseback. When they came up we saw that they were Indians. Two were regular Indians and one was a mixed blood. They had guns and we knew by their clothes that they were scouts for the white soldiers. The mixed blood did the talking and told us many soldiers were ahead of us a few miles, but not to be afraid. He told us the soldiers would treat us well and take us to the agency where there were many other Indians and where we would have plenty to eat. He said everything would be alright if we would go with the soldiers. Pretty soon the soldiers came, and the officer talked with some of our leading men, with the scout as interpreter. Our leaders then decided to go to the agency, for there was nothing else that we could do since we could not fight them. So we came along with the soldiers. Most of the soldiers went ahead of the wagon train but some rode along on each side of us. When we got to Wounded Knee Creek they said we could camp for the night. So we stopped and camped on the flat while the soldiers camped on the slope above us. That night we did not sleep well. Everybody was afraid. All night long the soldiers had lights and were working at something. We could hear the noise and rattle of iron being moved around and it made us all very nervous and we could not sleep. All night long soldiers walked back and forth around our camp. In the morning we found that everything had been arranged differently. There was a row of big guns set up on the side of the hill and we found that they would shoot bullets very fast. After a while we were all called out, men, women and children. So we came and stood up close to where the white soldiers were. They told us we must give up all our guns, knives or whatever weapons we had. They said to come forward, ten at a time, and lay down our guns and our knives. So ten of our men went up to them but they only had one gun to lay down. The soldiers did not like this very well, but we could not put our guns down because we did not have them with us. Those of us who had guns, had left them back at our tents. Then some soldiers went to our tents and began to look for our guns. They found quite a few and carried them out and threw them down on the ground. They did not lay them down carefully, but dumped them down in a pile, throwing them down hard. We were standing there, men, women and children, all of us very much afraid. We were defenseless as none of us had guns. The soldiers were standing all around us holding their guns in their hands ready to shoot. But as it turned out, there were two men down at the lower end of our group who had their guns under their blankets. One of the soldiers who was walking back and forth in front of us saw the ends of those guns sticking out. He called out to the other soldiers that these men had guns. I was standing at the upper end of the group where I could see it all and I can say that those two Indians never raised their guns or shot them. But as the soldiers started forward to take their guns from them, suddenly all the rest of the soldiers raised their guns and fired right into us. They shot right away into all of us men, women and children. We had no chance to fight back as we had no weapons. All we thought about, those of us who were still alive, was to get away. The morning was cloudy and damp and the smoke from the guns did not rise but settled right on us. From then on nothing could be seen very plain. The soldiers were rushing around shooting at all of us that they could see to shoot. I got shot through the right hand, the bullet entering just at the base of my thumb and coming out at the base of my middle finger. Somehow I finally got down into a wash or gully south of the fight, where a lot of Indians had taken refuge and where they had been shot down. I got down among them and kind of crawled down under the dead bodies, but soldiers kept on shooting into us whenever they saw any of us move. Twice more I was shot, one bullet going through the fleshy part of my left forearm and a third going through the fleshy part of the calf of my leg. Almost all of the day the shooting continued, the soldiers searching among the draws and brush for Indians still alive and shooting them down. After dark I crawled out and although suffering greatly, I made my way to Wounded Knee Creek where I came across three women and four or five children, including two boys, about 14 or 15 years old who had survived, although some of them were wounded. We had managed to make our way some distance down the stream when morning came. Soon afterwards we met some Indians coming down from the so called hostile camp over near White River northwest of Pine Ridge agency. They had heard of what had happened and were going over to see what was going on. They were very angry and in a very hostile mood. They took care of us and took us over to their camp. I was in pretty bad shape for a long time but my wounds all healed up except that my right hand is a little withered. Outside of the fact that I can scarcely grip anything with that hand, there is nothing wrong with me. I am seventy years old and I am well and strong yet. Now all I have told you is what I saw and experienced myself. It is all true and I have told it exactly as it happened. After the first shooting and after the smoke had settled, everything was in confusion. All the people thought about was to get away from the soldiers and many things may have happened that I did not see.
This story was told by Paul High Back, a member of the Big Foot band of the Miniconjou Sioux who was raised up in the Cherry Creek area of the Cheyenne River reservation and went down with Big Foot and his band in late December 1890. It was told on September 8, 1940, nearly 50 years after the event, in the Sioux Language to John B. Williamson at Pine Ridge, on the occasion of the Dakota Presbytery meeting at that place that fall. It took nearly 4 hours, from 8:00 p.m. until nearly midnight, in the telling. Paul had come to the mission meeting from Poplar Indian agency in Montana, where he was an elder in the Presbyterian church. He was a tall slender, 6 ft. man, with a slight stoop. He talked only Sioux but very plainly and directly. He rolled up his sleeve and trouser leg to show Mr. Williamson the twisted scars of the bullet wounds he had received nearly half century before. His story so impressed Mr. Williamson that he wrote it out in long hand the next morning while it was fresh and alive in his memory.
My folks lived along Cherry Creek and were members of Big Foot's band. The Ghost Dance had been going on at Pine Ridge for some time. Messengers were sent from them to our reservation and also to the Standing Rock reservation farther north to explain the dance and try to get others to join in the new religion. Quite a few became interested and started dancing, among them being those at Sitting Bull's camp on the Grand River and those in the Cherry Creek band where I lived. After the fight in Sitting Bull's camp, during which he was killed, his followers became alarmed. They were afraid the soldiers would come and kill them all, so they scattered and most of them came south to our settlement on Cherry Creek. We did not know anything about the fight until they came. Their coming made us all afraid and we concluded we had better go to Pine Ridge reservation where the rest of the Ghost Dancers were congregating. We did not go with any idea of trying to fight the soldiers or to make any trouble. We went because we were afraid and did not want to be alone. We wanted to be together. So we left our homes and started for Pine Ridge. There was quite a big company of us. We went down over the prairie and then through the Bad Lands and across the White River. I was one of the four young men who were scouts or outriders and who rode ahead or to one side of the caravan. One night we camped near Porcupine Creek and the next morning the three other young men and I were riding ahead. We had just climbed the hills to get out of the creek valley when we saw three men coming towards us on horseback. When they came up we saw that they were Indians. Two were regular Indians and one was a mixed blood. They had guns and we knew by their clothes that they were scouts for the white soldiers. The mixed blood did the talking and told us many soldiers were ahead of us a few miles, but not to be afraid. He told us the soldiers would treat us well and take us to the agency where there were many other Indians and where we would have plenty to eat. He said everything would be alright if we would go with the soldiers. Pretty soon the soldiers came, and the officer talked with some of our leading men, with the scout as interpreter. Our leaders then decided to go to the agency, for there was nothing else that we could do since we could not fight them. So we came along with the soldiers. Most of the soldiers went ahead of the wagon train but some rode along on each side of us. When we got to Wounded Knee Creek they said we could camp for the night. So we stopped and camped on the flat while the soldiers camped on the slope above us. That night we did not sleep well. Everybody was afraid. All night long the soldiers had lights and were working at something. We could hear the noise and rattle of iron being moved around and it made us all very nervous and we could not sleep. All night long soldiers walked back and forth around our camp. In the morning we found that everything had been arranged differently. There was a row of big guns set up on the side of the hill and we found that they would shoot bullets very fast. After a while we were all called out, men, women and children. So we came and stood up close to where the white soldiers were. They told us we must give up all our guns, knives or whatever weapons we had. They said to come forward, ten at a time, and lay down our guns and our knives. So ten of our men went up to them but they only had one gun to lay down. The soldiers did not like this very well, but we could not put our guns down because we did not have them with us. Those of us who had guns, had left them back at our tents. Then some soldiers went to our tents and began to look for our guns. They found quite a few and carried them out and threw them down on the ground. They did not lay them down carefully, but dumped them down in a pile, throwing them down hard. We were standing there, men, women and children, all of us very much afraid. We were defenseless as none of us had guns. The soldiers were standing all around us holding their guns in their hands ready to shoot. But as it turned out, there were two men down at the lower end of our group who had their guns under their blankets. One of the soldiers who was walking back and forth in front of us saw the ends of those guns sticking out. He called out to the other soldiers that these men had guns. I was standing at the upper end of the group where I could see it all and I can say that those two Indians never raised their guns or shot them. But as the soldiers started forward to take their guns from them, suddenly all the rest of the soldiers raised their guns and fired right into us. They shot right away into all of us men, women and children. We had no chance to fight back as we had no weapons. All we thought about, those of us who were still alive, was to get away. The morning was cloudy and damp and the smoke from the guns did not rise but settled right on us. From then on nothing could be seen very plain. The soldiers were rushing around shooting at all of us that they could see to shoot. I got shot through the right hand, the bullet entering just at the base of my thumb and coming out at the base of my middle finger. Somehow I finally got down into a wash or gully south of the fight, where a lot of Indians had taken refuge and where they had been shot down. I got down among them and kind of crawled down under the dead bodies, but soldiers kept on shooting into us whenever they saw any of us move. Twice more I was shot, one bullet going through the fleshy part of my left forearm and a third going through the fleshy part of the calf of my leg. Almost all of the day the shooting continued, the soldiers searching among the draws and brush for Indians still alive and shooting them down. After dark I crawled out and although suffering greatly, I made my way to Wounded Knee Creek where I came across three women and four or five children, including two boys, about 14 or 15 years old who had survived, although some of them were wounded. We had managed to make our way some distance down the stream when morning came. Soon afterwards we met some Indians coming down from the so called hostile camp over near White River northwest of Pine Ridge agency. They had heard of what had happened and were going over to see what was going on. They were very angry and in a very hostile mood. They took care of us and took us over to their camp. I was in pretty bad shape for a long time but my wounds all healed up except that my right hand is a little withered. Outside of the fact that I can scarcely grip anything with that hand, there is nothing wrong with me. I am seventy years old and I am well and strong yet. Now all I have told you is what I saw and experienced myself. It is all true and I have told it exactly as it happened. After the first shooting and after the smoke had settled, everything was in confusion. All the people thought about was to get away from the soldiers and many things may have happened that I did not see.