Pioneers of Marion County by Wm. M. Donnel, 1872

Part II, Chapter X

Red Rock Township continued - Conflict About a Stolen Saddle - Combative Squaws - A Skirmish

It is well known by those acquainted with the Indians that they were not generally noted for honesty, and that one of their prevailing vices was theft. This vice, however, was principally confined to the poorer classes, and was not only refrained from, but strongly condemned by the chiefs. These big Indians were mostly too wealthy to render it necessary for them to steal; besides, they had too high a regard for their dignified position in life to stoop to an act so unworthy.

On one occasion Mr. Mikesell traded with an Indian for a saddle.* He had been engaged with them most of the night, and towards morning put the saddle under his bed and laid down to get some sleep, telling his wife to take notice whether the Indians, who were still prowling about, would take any thing from the house. Just about daylight he heard the saddle dragged form under the bed, and immediately got up to follow it. On going to the door he saw three Indians, each of them with a pony, one of whom had the saddle which he was just in the act of putting on the animal. Now, if he meant to recover it, there was no time to spare for deciding what might be the best plan to take for that purpose; but Mr. M. ran hastily down to where they were, and peremptorily demanded the property. But the thief had seen his approach, and had mounted his pony before his pursuer reached him, and had already started away when Mr. M. had just time to catch a firm hold upon the pony’s tail. Seeing this apparently futile attempt to detain him, the rider yelled a laugh of ridicule and defiance, and lashed the animal into a plunging gallop. The scene was both exciting and amusing. Up, up the hill they went, where the road now ascends it in front of the house, with a plunge that showed that the little animal felt the weight of his appendage in the rear, but lashed to a speed that rendered it difficult for the latter to keep step, even with the long quick strides he made, his feet flying up and down with a most comical nimbleness. It was his intention to pull the pony against a tree close by, which they had to pass, and thus unhorse both rider and saddle; but the speed was too great to give him any time for his strategem, and his hold broke.

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*An Indian saddle was a very simple contrivance. The front was a wooden fork so carved out as to fit well astride the horse’s back, and from each prong of this fork was fixed a flat strip of wood of sufficient length, extending backwards along the side of the ridge. Then to the back ends of these strips was attached another sufficient breadth, extending over and across the ridge edgewise, or with a sufficient slant to form the back part of the saddle. Over this frame was drawn a covering of raw hide, stretched and sewed so tightly with deer sinews that it kept its shape firmly. Then other skins could be added to render them soft and easy both for horse and rider. It was the business of the squaws to make these saddles.
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Provoked at this failure, he returned to where the other Indians were, who seemed much amused at the scene. Taking hold of the best one of their ponies, he put it in a rail pen and forbade them to touch it till he got his saddle.

Though much angered at this summary proceeding, they made no resistance, but went away threatening vengeance. Full expecting their return soon, Mr. M. remained near. He was not disappointed, for not an hour had elapsed ere he saw five mounted Indians coming at a galloping speed; and as they approached they raised the war song, singing in a not unmusical intonation, “te-o-ho, te-o-ho, ne-ne-ytosse-ah, te-o-ho,” (I’m a big brave, with te-o-ho for a chorus), and rode up to where the pony was and dismounted without apparently noticing the presence of their enemy.

But Mr. M. was on the ground as soon as they were, and aware of their intention, was the first to get hold of the pony’s halter. One of the Indians, however, got hold of it nearly at the same time, and a “tussle” ensued. He was a big, stout fellow, and had thrown off his blanket in preparation for the contest; but it happened that Mr. M. had a slight advantage of ground, being on the slope a little above his antagonist. In the struggle to wrest the halter from the grip of the Indian he gave him a push that sent him down hill, turning a complete somersault backwards. Mr. M. then took of an ox whip that happened to be lying near him, and threatened to thrash the first one who would attempt to lay hold of the animal again. Singular as it may seem, these people were more afraid of a whip than of a deadly weapon, and would receive a sound thrashing without making any more resistance than a school boy, whilst the flourishing of a knife, gun or tomahawk would bring out their combatativeness at once. In this case the threat of a whipping had the desired effect, and the “ne-ne-y-tasse-ah” all “pococheed” and left “shnok-a-man” in possession of the “nack-a-tock-a-shaw.”

But they had not quite given up the hope of recovering the pony. They next went and laid the matter before their chief, Masha Wapatine, who immediately became personally responsible for the payment of five dollars for the saddle. The pony was then given up, and Mr. M. got his money at the next payment.

On another occasion a slight unpleasantness arose between Mr. Mikesell and the Indians in relation to the unwarrantable purloining of some potatoes. The story as related by Mr. M. is in substance as follows:

Pasishamone and his band of about 300 men, women and children encamped on the creek near the ford, and entered into a contract with Mr. M. for provisions to the amount of about $500, consisting of potatoes, turnips, corn and five head of fat hogs, dressed. On applying for this contract Pasishamone brought a written recommendation from Mr. Beach, the Indian agent at Fort Des Moines, to the effect that the Indians were in needy circumstances, that Pasishamone was an honorable chief, and would be likely to pay for what he got. This recommendation was good enough, but in the opinion of Mr. M. it did not altogether answer the purpose; he wanted an order from the agent the better to secure his pay. Pasishamone thereupon went to the agent, but whether he had understood Mikesell or not is not known, for instead of the required order he brought back the same kind of a recommendation. Though not satisfied with this, Mikesell concluded to close the contract, which was set forth in writing and signed by the chief and thirty of his braves, each making “his x mark” near the written name.

This done the squaws immediately commenced carrying away the stuff, in which were engaged twenty-five or thirty ponies, going and coming, early and late. Mr. M. had dug his potatoes and pulled his turnips, and had pitted up what he had not disposed of in the contract. But the squaws, after having carried away their stipulated amount of potatoes, (three hundred bushels,) and most of the turnips, commenced taking from the pits, unknown to the owner, pretending to be engaged with the turnips.

But so soon as he discovered the theft he determined to punish them for it. Watching his opportunity, he saw several squaws fill their blankets with potatoes and tie them up ready to carry away. Calling the boys to his assistance, they seized upon the potatoes, carried them to the house, emptied them into the cellar, and threw the blankets into a loft over head. The squaws followed with angry protestations against such an unlooked-for proceeding, and, when they reached the house, demanded their blankets. M. told them they could not have them till they paid for the potatoes they had stolen. This increased their wrath to a fighting degree, and two of the squaws, large, stout, looking ones, a contact with whom might have resulted in the discomfiture of any single-handed combatant, bared their large, brawny arms and told him they meant to whip him. Indeed, so earnest were their demonstrations, that our hero fully expected an encounter, but knew it would not be advisable to retreat, no matter how it might terminate, so he stood his ground and exchanged threats with them, telling them what a dreadful beating they might expect if they made the attempt. Finally some of the weaker squaws who seemed to be backing their champions, withdrew, seeing which the viragoes also gave up the contest, and all went away.

In a short time, however, they returned with the chief, who instituted an inquiry into the affair. Having learned the facts of the case, Pasishamone made them a speech in which he eulogized the kindness of Mr. M. in trusting them for food when they had not the ready means to pay for it; reminded them of having trusted their plunder in his hands on a former occasion, and received it again without the loss of even a stran of beads; and concluded by shaming them for being so ungrateful as to steal from a man who had treated them with so much kindness. The speech must have been one of considerable pathetic eloquence, for the culprits, notwithstanding the reputed stolidity of these people, actually wept tears of sorrow.

A compromise was then made, and they received their blankets; but Mr. Mikesell never received any pay for his produce. When pay-day came he went to Fort Des Moines and presented the copy of the written contract; but this proved to be worthless, and he lost the entire amount.

Another instance of petty thieving by the Indians may be worth relating:

A couple of settlers named James Scott and Israel Nichols took a claim where the farm now is that was recently owned by Thomas Simpson, but perhaps better known as the present location of the brick school house in sub-district No. 3, Summit township. These men had entered into a co-partnership in in the ownership and improvement of the claim, and had erected a sort of temporary house to live in, much after the fashion of all “claim pens;” and as they were bachelors they had also provided a limited supply of furniture and cooking utensils - no more than was regarded as indispensable to that prosaic kind of living, known as “keeping bach.” At the risk of transcending the limits of a plain history, we may imagine that these young men were enjoying themselves to the utmost that their isolated condition and comparative freedom from domestic care entitled them to, working, hunting, cooking and eating by turns, as taste or inclination dictated. But one day their happiness was disturbed by an unexpected visitation. On coming to the cabin for their noon-day meal they were surprised to find neither pot, kettle nor skillet, in which to cook it. But it was easy to conjecture who had perpetrated the robbery; and unmistakable evidence in the case appeared in the discovery of a naked young Indian, apparently about six or seven years old, who had been left at the house either intentionally or by mistake. Here was a state of thing not pleasant to contemplate. To get another pot and skillet was possible, though attended with some trouble and expense; but what to do with the wild young fox, for whom they had no conceivable use, was a question hard to answer. The little fellow seemed greatly excited, and was disposed to run away, but they managed to soothe his fears enough to keep him with them. Though they questioned him as to whom he belonged, for want of sufficient knowledge of English he could give them no definite account of the party.

They, however, decided to follow the robbers and, if possible, recover their property. But is was first necessary to dispose of their captive, whom they did not wish to carry with them in a hasty pursuit. For this purpose they took him to Mr. Mikesell’s and tied him to a tree, thinking his detention might bring some of his friends to his relief, and thereby secure a restoration of the stolen articles, provided they failed to get them otherwise. Having secured him thus, they left him under the care of Mrs. M., and proceeded to follow the trail of the Indians. But toward night the little fellow became so restless, and called so loudly for his parents, and wept so bitterly, that Mrs. M., contrary to the injunction of his captors, released him. No persuasion of hers could induce him to remain. He made her understand, through what acquaintance she had with the language, that he had never slept a night away from his mother and grand-mother. He knew where his home was, and wanted to go. The plea was too much for the heart of a woman, and she let him go. We are not informed whether he reached the camp that night or not, though it is quite probable that his Indian instinct helped him through the difficulty.

Messrs. Scott and Nichols found the Indians camped on Calhoun creek. They had fires built and were cooking their suppers, when the young men unceremoniously entered the camp and attempted to take the stolen vessels that happened to be in use just then. Of course the act was resisted by the savages, who snatched blazing sticks from the fires and assailed the intruders, punching them with the torch-like weapons till they were glad to get away without having accomplished the object of the expedition. In the malee Scott received a severe blow on the side of the head that stunned him for a short time.

Early next day the attack was renewed with re-enforcements, but with no better success. This time the Indians had recourse to tomahawks instead of fire-brands, seeing which the boys fled with such speed that their pursuers were unable to overtake them. Whereupon the latter returned to camp for their ponies, on which they renewed the chase, though after a delay sufficient to give the fugitives time to get over the line. No one was hurt, and the only loss was a good overcoat by Hiram Mikesell, of which some warrior was very probably the gainer.

Enraged at this unfortunate result, Scott and Nichols determined to get up an expedition to punish the obstinate rascals. Several men volunteered, and all went armed for any emergency. But the enemy had wit enough to anticipate some such a denouement, and considering “discretion the better part of valor,” had evacuated the camp in time to make good their escape.

Scott and Nichols afterwards moved to Jasper county, where they opened a trading house. On the occasion of the death of Poweshiek, some of the friends of that chief applied to the traders for whisky to be used in the funeral ceremony, and obtained a few gallons of the cheap stuff in exchange for a pony.

Transcribed by Mary E. Boyer, 12/06, reformatted by Al Hibbard 12 Oct 2013.