Franklin County, Nebraska

For Another Day

A history friend gave me a book to read called Man of the Plains by Luther North. The author tells of his adventures in Nebraska in the 1860’s at the time that the Indians were sent to the reservations. When we hear of the Indians of that time period we usually hear the bad things they did. Please read Luther North’s recollection of an Indian from the A-rik-a-ree tribe who was determined to help white people. The following is an excerpt from Man of the Plains.

“I do not think that any braver men ever lived than the Cheyenne or Pawnee Indians. My brother defeated the Cheyenne at Plum Creek, when they out numbered him more than four to one, but his men were armed with Spencer repeating carbines, seven shooters, while the Cheyennes had mostly bows and arrows. The Pawnees were somewhat disciplined and fought as a unit, while the Cheyenne fought each man for himself, as, in fact, all Indians fought.

“Much has been written about the great chiefs, Sitting Bull, Red Cloud, Spotted Tail, Crazy Horse and American Horse of the Sioux; and Tall Bull, Dull Knife and Roman Nose of the Cheyenne. They were written as great leaders and in some respects this is true. These men were orators and were looked up to with much respect, and some of them were great warriors; but in battle not one of them could have given an order that would have been obeyed, for there was no such thing as discipline among them. If sine great warrior wanted to charge the enemy, he would say, ‘Now I am going,’ and if a band of young men felt so inclined they would follow him; but if Red Cloud or Sitting Bull had picked out two or three hundred men and ordered them to charge the enemy in a body, no attention would have been paid to the order. The individual Indians just fought in their own way and took orders from no one, and it was for this reason that they so seldom conquered disciplined troops. I am told, however that the Cheyenne, Old Little Wolf gave orders to his men and enforced them.

“The A-rik-a-ree scouts under Bloody Knife seemed greatly to enjoy talking to me about the Pawnees, and we became pretty good friends. One very hot, dry day as we were marching through the bad lands and all were tired and thirsty, Mr. Grinnell and I were riding by our selves off to one side of the command, when looking back we saw about a mile behind us one of the A-rik-a-ree scouts. He was on foot, and when he saw we were looking his way he motioned to us and started toward us on a run.

“Mr. Grinnell said, “shall we wait for him?”

“I replied, ‘No he just wants to ask some fool questions’ and we rode on.

“He kept following us on a dog trot, gaining one us, of course, and every time we looked around he motioned for us to stop, but the sun was blazing hot, and I guess we were both cross, and we kept on until at least he got near enough to call.

“Then I said, ‘ we had better stop and see what he wants.’

“When he came up to us the sweat was streaming down his face from the long run. I asked ‘What do you want?’

“He said, ‘Nothing, I found a pond of good water over yonder, and when I saw you I thought you might want a drink,’ and he handed us his canteen full of good cool water.

“Mr. Grinnell and I looked at each other, took a long drink of water and looked at each other again, but neither of us seemed to have much to say, and I guess we felt pretty small. Finally I said in Pawnee, ‘it is good water all right.”

“The boy laughed and said, ‘goodbye’ and started away toward the command, and Grinnell and I rode on our way. Had a white boy tried to stop us for our own benefit and been ignored in this way, he might well enough have said, “Well, Mr. Smart Aleck, you can hurt for water for yourself,’ but this boy ran for two miles to give us a drink.

As I have said before I am not proud of some of the things my ancestors did to the Indian People so it is nice to read a heart-warming story. It is sad how we pushed the Indians until they were reduced to confinement on reservations. I guess that’s what it took to settle the land. Sometimes I feel we are living on land that isn’t really ours, especially when I study the Indians of our area.

I know the Pawnee that roamed Franklin county were peaceful people who just wanted to live in harmony. They loved to farm and raise food for the cold winter. There were Indian mounds across the creek from our house. I am almost sure they had tended crops on the land we have alfalfa planted on. It’s just a little cleared spot close to the creek. There have been many Indian relics found over there my Milo Hill when he lived in a house at the edge of the field.

My son, Patrick and I enjoy scouting around for these treasures of the past. They get harder and harder to find, but we still look every chance we get. Finding a good piece isn’t as easy as it was for Mile and Herman Schnuerle. Herman tells us how his and his family found such valuable Indian discard over 70 years ago.

Gone from our area are most of the relics or they are buried so far underground we will never see them again. But my son and I wait for a good rain and we go out in the mud to see if there is anything left of the Indian ancestors that once lead a peaceful life in Franklin County.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast.
And breathed in the face of the foe as he past. Lord Byron.

Rena Donovan, For Another Day.

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