Chief Joseph’s Own Story

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Description

About fifteen miles to the south of the Great Northern Railway tracks at Chinook, Montana, a historic battlefield lies almost forgotten a few of the ravines and gullies that line the high bluffs of Snake Creek near its junction with the Milk River in the Bear Paw Mountains. Its trenches and earth works have gradually fallen into decay and the wild flowers and tall prairie grass have nearly obliterated the graves of its heroic dead.

Few people today, save possibly those living close by or those interested in Northwest history, can tell you the name of this place or of those who so gallantly fought here; yet less than fifty years ago on this very spot the white man and the red were fighting one of their last great battles.

Chief Joseph and his band of Nez Percé warriors had successfully defeated General Howard’s men on the Lolo trail, fought a drawn battle with General Gibbon at Big Hole and were swiftly retreating by a circuitous trail to sign up for Sitting Bull in Canada, but the telegraph of the white man was working against him. Unknown to this Indian Chieftain, Colonel (later General) Miles was swiftly marching to the Northwest to intercept him before he could reach the border. Had Chief Joseph known of this he could have easily escaped with all his people as he crossed the Missouri a full day ahead of Miles, but the Three Daughters of the Night decreed another way and the opposing forces met at this spot on the 30th of September, 1S77.

Three days later General Howard arrived upon the scene and, on the 4th of October, Joseph surrendered with eighty-seven warriors, of whom forty were wounded, one hundred and eighty-four squaws and one hundred and forty-seven children. This was the pathetic message of give up he sent to General Howard:

Tell General Howard that I know his heart. What he told me before—I have it in my heart. I am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed. Looking Glass is dead. Too-hul-hul-sote is dead The old men are all dead. It is the young men now, who say “yes” or “no” (that is, vote in council). He who led the young men (Joseph’s brother Ollicut) is dead. It is cold, and we haven’t any blankets. The little children are freezing to death. My people—some of them—have run away to the hills, and have no blankets, no food. No one knows where they are—perhaps freezing to death. I need to have time to look for my children, and to see how many of them I will be able to find; maybe I shall find them a few of the dead. Hear me, my chiefs, my heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will be able to fight no more with the white man.

This remarkable Indian had accomplished a feat that will be long remembered as a military exploit of the first magnitude. His small force, which at no time numbered more than three hundred warriors, had retreated for nearly two thousand miles through an enemy country, carrying with them their squaws and children. They had met United States troops eleven different times and had fought five pitched battles with them, of which they had won three, drew one and lost one, a feat that is more remarkable when you learn that the total force opposing them was nearly two thousand men. But greatest of all is the fact that this campaign was conducted without the destruction of property and the murdering of settlers that on a regular basis was a part of Indian warfare.

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