Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1889-02-20

period OF true devotion to his wife.
. sudden change came over Rain-in-
the-Face. He learned that the maiden
whom he had taken unto himself was
not the object upon which his love
could center. He still regarded her
with kindness, but his affections we're
transferred to another-not another
maiden, but to the chubby boy who had
come to crown his life with pride and
glory.
The babe was yet bit of tawny,
expressionless flesh, when he saw in
his minds eye pictures of greatness for
the infant warrior. From this time
Rain-in-the-Face was changed. His
thoughts returned to the chase and the
war-path. He aimed to lead such a
life that the boy, emulating his exam
pie, might grow up the leader of his
race. What rosy pictures he painted
for his son! Often at the evening
campfire, when recounting his battles
and victories, would he speak with
pride of Koska (the name given the
boy, and meaning youth }, for whom
he predicted a brilliant and glorious
career. With true Indian superstition,
he had watched the signs, and with
the inevitable deductions of father,
he knew that they ak meant greatness
and renown for Koska.
SO ran the proud days for Rain-in-
the-Face until civilization began it's
work of contracting the Indian field. In
every field it enters, civilization is an
iconoclast, but nowhere is it's destruc-
ton of idols and hopes so relentless
and so complete as among the Indians.
When the Sioux nation was placed
upon the Immense reservation west of
the Missouri river, the tribes were
separated. It SO happened that the
tribe to which Rain-in-the-Face be-
longed was stationed at Standing
Rock, while his wife's tribe was sent
to the lower agency. Above all things
that an Indian resents, it is removal
from his tribe. The tribe of Rain-in-
the-Face being located at Standing
Rock, he insisted on remaining, while
tho young wife and mother pined for
the company of those with whom she
had been reared. She had realized
that Rain-in-the-Face had little love
for her. He was even jealous of the
affection which she received from her
pretty boy, who had now grown to the
toddling age.
Having remained at Standing Rock
until patience was exhausted, the wife
departed for her tribe, three hundred
miles distant, taking the boy with her.
She left while Rain-in-the-Face was alb
sent on a hunt. When the chief re-
turned he could learn nothing of the
whereabouts of his boy-he made few
inquiries concerning the wife, for her
desire to return to her tribe rather
than remain with him had extinguished
the last spark of his love for her, al
though he still regarded her jealousy
for the sake of his child. Day and
night he searched. He had secured
the reservation, but no Koska did he
find, and at last he learned that the
boy had been taken to the lower
agency. He knew of the boys attach
ment for the mother, and was aware
that she would be defended in her
claim to the son by every Indian in her
tribe, where she was now safely forti-
fed. TO add to his sorrow, his inAu-
ence among his Indians had been
broken by the agent, who found this
the only way to make him submissive.
For months he studied, planned and
dreamed devices for the return of little
koska- Tho proud head dropped.
Rain-in-the-Face was not himself. The
hunt no longer had charms, nor did he
join in the shouts and dances. His
boy! He wanted his Koska. Wherever
he went, whatever he did. his mind
was on the boy. How humble and
how meek was Rain-in-the-Facen now!
In former years he spoke to the whites
with condescension and disdain. Now
he sought them for advice and consolac
ton. While upon the war-path against
tho whites he was desperate in glee,
but now he was desperate in sorrow.
Then he would plan q battle with the
very audacity of Napoleon; but now
he planned-with what intensity of de-
spair did he plan for the return of his
departed happiness.
He sought the advice of the few
whites at the agency whom he counted
as his friends. Knowing the treachery
OF his own people, he would not trust
them. He trusted them when a mere
battle was at stake, but in the silent
fight for that which had grown about
his heart so closely he appealed for the
aid of the whites. In this there was a
double purpose. He would sooner
trust the whites, and then he felt that,
with them as his advisors, he would
not be haunted by the fear of their un-
known laws.
In conversation with one of his white
friends, he impaired the secret of his
plans. He had decided to 20 to the
lower agency, and, arriving in the
night, steal the boy before the camp
could be aroused. He wanted the as