Chief Joseph & the Flight of the Nez Perce (35 page)

On the hill above, in the warmth of Colonel Miles's tent, Joseph listened warily as this new soldier chief told of how he wished no more war, of how General Howard and Colonel Sturgis would soon arrive with more men, of how, as a man, he wished to avoid more unnecessary killing.

Joseph responded that he too wished to end this killing. His brother had been killed. Other chiefs had been killed. His people were cold and hungry. He would gladly end this fighting and wanted nothing more than the return of his horses and to be left alone. But he spoke for no one other than himself, and there were many among the Nez Perce who preferred to wait for Sitting Bull, whose warriors would surely overwhelm any forces that the colonel could mount against them.

He told Miles of White Bird's fears, of the people's concern about being hanged and exiled as had happened to the Modoc when they had surrendered. He asked what would happen if the Nez Perce were to lay down their arms, whether they would be allowed to return to their homeland or whether they too would be punished with exile or death.

Colonel Miles assured Joseph that the people would be returned to their homeland, though such a journey would have to wait until spring when the mountain passes had cleared. In the meantime, the army could accompany them to a place in the Yellowstone country where they could camp for the winter. They would have to turn over their weapons, but their needs would be met.

At this, Joseph balked. He might be willing to propose to the people that they give half the weapons to the army, since many had been obtained in raids and from the bodies of soldiers. But the others they would need to keep so they could hunt during the winter.

This was impossible, Miles explained. Surrender would have to be unconditional, and all weapons would have to be turned over.

Again, Joseph balked. I am not talking about surrender, he said, I am talking about an agreement to stop fighting. We have no surrender to make because there has never been any war. If there had been a war, the Nez Perce could easily have killed all the soldiers many times over. Only the soldiers have treated this as a war, killing women and children. To his people, this had been a journey to find a place where they could live in peace and have a fair chance to talk to the white chiefs about returning to their homes. They had fought only as much as was necessary to continue their journey and to protect themselves from discovery. Any wanton killing had been done by out-of-control young men, often drunk on white man's whiskey. Even Miles must understand that young men cannot easily be controlled. As to their journey, the people could continue it even now if they waited for the arrival of Sitting Bull, which he and the other chiefs were quite willing to do. There would be no talk of surrender.

The two men measured each other. Neither was willing to compromise. Finally, Joseph stood up and extended his hand to Miles. There was no further need for discussion. He would return to his people and tell them what had been said. Each side would have to await the arrival of the supporting forces to see who would prevail.

He and Tom Hill then left the tent and began to walk from the camp. But before he had gone more than a few steps, Tom Hill was called back, and several armed soldiers blocked Joseph's way. Joseph looked at them, then at Miles. Miles stared back, revealing nothing. Joseph nodded sadly and returned to the tent. The others had been right. The white man could not be trusted.

On the battlefield below, the strange lassitude and passivity were continuing. The sorrow at death seemed greater than the anger of war, and all were occupied in removing their dead and wounded to places of rest and refuge behind their respective lines. The soldiers pulled and carried the bodies of the men up the side of the hill and lay them in a long depression like pieces of cordwood. The Nez Perce dragged the bodies of their fallen sons and fathers and brothers back to the coulee and laid them out on buffalo blankets. Neither side could bury their dead in a manner that did them honor.

The snow continued to fall, covering the corpses of horses and ponies until they seemed less like animals than strange, boulderlike forms. The distant hills and mountains were lost in the mist, and the wind blew and swirled with an empty moan. The people gradually retreated to their gully, and the soldiers slowly made their way back to the bluff. The few soldier sentries posted on the circling hills huddled in their hastily dug pits. Both sides searched the snow-blown distances for signs of Sitting Bull or Howard.

On occasion, a thin line of movement would appear on the distant plains, striking fear and excitement into the hearts of those who saw it. But always it turned out to be a distant herd of buffalo walking in almost military precision against the blowing snow and cold.

Each side knew that the fighting was now at a stalemate. The Nez Perce, without their horses, could never hope to escape with children, elderly, and wounded across these cold, windblown plains. The soldiers knew they did not have the horses or wagons to transport their wounded to safety. There was nothing either side could do but wait and hope that the meeting between Joseph and Miles could bring some conclusion to this situation, which was breaking everyone's spirit and sapping everyone's will.

Tom Hill's return dashed the Nez Perce's hopes. They watched anxiously as he made his way alone down the bluff and back across the battlefield to their hollow, hoping that he brought word that Joseph and Miles had reached some kind of understanding. Instead, he told them that Joseph had been taken prisoner by Miles and that he himself had been sent back as a messenger to demand their surrender. He went from shelter pit to shelter pit, telling the people that the time had come to quit fighting; that Joseph was held in the soldier chief's tent; that the soldier chief had promised they could return to their own country if they quit fighting and gave up their arms.

This was exactly what some of the people had feared and exactly what others had hoped to hear. But all were angry that Joseph was being held against his will by the soldier chief. They had met under a flag of truce. Now that truce had been shown to be a lie. This new war chief Miles was a man of two tongues, just like all the other white soldiers and government men. This, said White Bird, is what comes of trusting in white man's promises.

As the Nez Perce huddled against the sleet and cold, trying to decide what to do, they noticed a strange figure emerging from the swirling snow of the battlefield. It was a soldier in a long, yellow raincoat, moving casually on horseback among the snow-covered corpses and making his way toward their camp. He exhibited no fear. In fact, he seemed almost curiously indifferent. Accompanied by several Cheyenne scouts, he rode directly into the hollow where the Nez Perce were dug in, wandering leisurely through the campsite and peering into the shelter pits and the rifle hollows.

The Nez Perce were amazed. What was this man doing? Was he reconnoitering? Checking to see if they were caching weapons? Was this part of some larger strategy by this new soldier commander Miles on the hill?

Yellow Bull went up to the soldier and grabbed the reins of his horse. White Bull then pulled him out of the saddle, announcing, “I'm going to kill this man.”

But others stopped him. “Why don't you kill soldiers when there is fighting?” they said. “We who do the real fighting don't want to kill him, so why should you?” White Bull was well known among the tribe as a man whose courage was all in his mouth, and this was exactly the kind of rash act they could not afford at this dire time when one of their few remaining chiefs was being held in captivity.

Wottolen and Yellow Bull immediately realized the value of the man and ordered that he be kept in camp and treated well. He appeared to be a commanding officer, and he was their insurance that Joseph would be returned alive. His presence would also protect the camp from sneak attack. Even white soldiers did not cause the certain death of their own men.

All night the people watched the hilltop where this Colonel Miles had his tent. There was no word from Joseph or the soldiers. Yellow Bull even approached the soldiers' camp under the flag of truce and asked to see the chief. His request was refused, though he was allowed see the tent where he was told that Joseph was being kept.

Meanwhile, the Nez Perce treated their strange hostage like a guest. They gave him water and such food as they had and allowed him to keep his pistol and walk around, so long as he didn't go beyond the edge of the camp. When it was time to sleep, they placed him a shelter pit with about a dozen of their own people. But they soon had to move him for his own safety, as there were many who still wished to see him dead. He spent the remainder of the night under guard in a different shelter pit, sleeping on a buffalo robe and covered by two blankets.

Morning dawned to three inches of new wet, heavy snow. The camp was now soaked, and the bodies of the dead were now simply lumps under the shroud of white that covered the land. The buffalo chips that the women had used for fires were buried under the fresh snow and had to be found by foot. Even when they were discovered, they were almost too wet to light. The children were whimpering. The elderly were singing their death songs. It had been two days since the first attack, and still there was no sign of Sitting Bull and his warriors.

The Nez Perce leaders were now adamant. They wanted to know what had happened to Joseph. Late in the afternoon the day before, their scouts had heard the cheering of soldiers as the supply wagons of the army had come rumbling in, and now the people were forced to huddle in the cold and wet, uncertain of the fate of one of their two remaining chiefs while the aroma of fresh coffee and warm meals wafted down from the bluffs above.

The soldier too was hungry. He asked for warm food, but the Nez Perce had none to give him. They did give him some of their best remaining buffalo meat, but their food stock was limited. The warriors themselves had not eaten for days so the children could be fed. They told the man that if he wanted warm food, he should send a note to this Colonel Miles asking for some to be sent down.

The soldier sat down and wrote a note to his commanding officer. He said that he was being treated well and that he hoped Joseph was being treated in the same manner. The Nez Perce read the note as best they could to verify its contents, then sent Red Wolf's son to carry it to the tent where Colonel Miles was quartered.

Miles received the note with dismay. The captive soldier, Lieutenant Lovell Jerome, was known for his bravado. Miles had been aware of Jerome's foray and subsequent capture but had been hoping that the lieutenant could escape during the night. This note showed that his lieutenant was still in the hands of the hostiles. His brash subordinate had given the Nez Perce exactly what they needed—a hostage of significance. Miles had no choice but to agree to a prisoner exchange.

Reluctantly, he ordered Joseph to be readied for transfer and sent word to the Indian camp that he would release their chief when they released Jerome. The Indians replied that they would not release Jerome without proof of Joseph's release. Finally, it was agreed that there would be a meeting at a central point where the prisoners would be exchanged in full view and under the armed vigilance of both camps.

Miles instructed his Lieutenant Maus to affix a white flag to a staff, and at midmorning, he and Maus and Joseph advanced through the sleet and snow across the frozen hollows toward a buffalo robe that had been laid between the two camps to designate the point of exchange. Maus kept a cocked revolver under his coat to use on Joseph if any treachery took place.

As Miles and Joseph advanced, three Nez Perce men set out from their camp with Lieutenant Jerome. Riflemen from both camps lay on the snow-covered hilltops with weapons aimed and ready to fire if there was unusual movement or any sign of betrayal.

The walk was tense and grueling for all. The cold winds buffeted them, the wet sleet cut their faces. No one knew if a hothead or skittish fighter on either side might fire the shot that would result in a mass carnage of all involved. But there were no incidents. Joseph and Jerome met at the blanket, shook hands, and walked off toward their respective camps. Both sides kept their rifles poised until each man was safely back behind his own lines.

Once back in the Nez Perce camp, Joseph was surrounded by his people. How had he been treated? What terms had he been offered? How strong was their camp? What was the condition of the soldiers?

Much hinged on his answers. The people were desperate. Sitting Bull was nowhere to be seen, and the children were crying constantly from hunger. They could not go on this way. Some wanted to charge the soldiers. Others wanted to surrender. White Bird was nervous about what sort of agreements Joseph had made.

“I made no agreements,” Joseph said. “The soldier chief, Colonel Miles, is the one who wants to quit. But then I was held against my will, like Toohoolhoolzote by General Howard. This man is like the others. His promises are no different from lies. We must continue to fight.”

Tom Hill had heard enough. It was he who had been used by Miles to arrange a false truce, he who had been tricked by the colonel into bringing Joseph into camp. He shouted to the warriors that the time had come to charge and fight face-to-face. He started to run toward the soldiers, but only two men followed him. The people looked at each other, confused and uncertain. Then they slowly went back to their rifle barricades and shelter pits to contemplate the hopelessness of their situation.

The remainder of that day was a bleak, freezing standoff. The Nez Perce stayed barricaded in their shelter pits, and the soldiers huddled in their tents and at their rifle posts. Neither side wanted to waste their ammunition, and neither side wanted to charge. The battle had become as shapeless as the wintry, windblown landscape. The soldiers sent a wagon off to the distant hillsides to look for wood while the Nez Perce warriors, who had known almost no rest since the first attack, lay back and tried to catch a few moments of sleep to ward off the deep weariness and hunger that were quickly overtaking them.