The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1902-05-29
Big GUN.
A Thrilling Story of Santee Brave.
BY FRANK wELLEs cALKISs.

myself, over tiny fire OF willow sticks
upon a low point of bluff above n bank
of the Watering. Our ponies fed upon
the short slope below.
Jules Bottineau was acting as my guide
in journey from Bismarck to a mission
on the Souris. The nature of my errand
is not of account in this narrative. We
| were making our way across the hunting
grounds of several hostile tribes. and be-
ing neutrals, deemed it best to travel with
| no attempt at concealment.
The sun had just tipped with red fire
the tops of Aniacomasin Buttes, and twi-
| light was falling upon the level plains. j
had my third cup of coffee in hand. alter
nately slipping and winking at the glories
of garnet sky. Jules. who minded not
the color, but the attitude of things. sat
across the fire gazing blinkingly toward
the north. His French Canadian face. or
namented with grizzled goatee, showed a
sudden, fierce play of emotion.
| He sprang to his feet like play actor.
and stood in a half-crouching attitude, the
tails of his wolf-skin cap fiuttering in the
stirring night breeze, his eyes glued upon
some distant prairie object.
Buffalo or elk. and coming our way"
was my mental comment, and l calmly
slipped at my coffee. Jules was of an emo
tional turn and a tragic manner. He
jumped at game, and sometimes at con-
| illusions.
| "Garrdons nousr' he muttered. half
| angrily. That ees too mooch wen seek
Eenjin they all chase one man like dose
| fellars."
He caught up his gun. Hastily putting
down my cup. /. too, snatched my breeci-
loader and sprang to my feet. Without
| doubt there were Indians coming-coming
at the run and straight as the crow flies
toward our camp. They We're on foot. and
lunging forward at the swinging, loose
jOinted gait which signifies long and ex-
| haustive chase. One in advance, some 200
yards distant, was evidently the pursued.
The others-there We're more than six
were strung out for half-mile or more in
| his rear. The chased one drew nearer.
| and his foremost pursuer suddenly halted
| and let fly an arrow. The runner now
within a hundred yards of us, had an eye
over his shoulder. and cunningly threw
himself fiat upon his face.
The bow shaft struck with q sharp thit
| into the hard soil at our feet. The runner
gained his feet in 1.-THE spring, and came
on with a whoop of defiance.
by CARR" shouted my guide with
| increased excitement; that is Beeg Gun
so, by gar-r-Ey yegh, yowe-e-er' With
the shrill bow-shot yell of the Santee,
Jules threw his rifle to his face and sent a
bullet whistling above the savages in pur-
suit. That fetched them standing, and a
second half-ounce slug. whining yeun-yeun-
yeun, sent the foremost hustling out of
range.
l was much relieved to note that Big
Gun-of whatsoever tribe or band-would
be left to settle his own account in his own
way. Watching the Indian curiOusly as
he approached. / had no doubt of his abil-
ity to take care of himself when pitted
against decent odds. And 1 was inclined
to reckon that such odds would not, in the
present instance. have left him to single
combat. He halted several times to shout
taunts at his scudding foes
Alley yuh, hegh! Hechecha Hech-
echa!' He put up his hands to hurl the
harsh bitterness after them. He stood, a
large figure in bronze, against red belt
of sky. He had stripped to the leggins
and carried no weapon but knife. He
was breathing heavily, but composedly. as
he halted finally at our campfire. and
there was broad grin of recognition upon
his face as my guide spoke to him in the
gutteral, but not unmusical, Santee. A few
words passed between them, and we turn
ed our eyes upon the Indians in retreat
watching the shadowy figures until they
were lost upon dimming horizon Then
we sat by the fire, and the tall Indian told
his story briefly and with expressive ges-
lures. Jules assisted my understanding
with a running comment in his kind of
English.
The Sioux, it seemed. had been hunting
buffalo, got separated from his party. and
was jumped by band of Chippewa hunt
ers who were stalking his game. His pony
had fallen at the first fire and he unhurt,
had taken to his legs. shooting Mt the foe
as he ran. He had exhausted his arrows
and thrown away his bow and his blanket.
He had discovered our slender smoke in
coming up off the creek bottom. and had
run for it, hoping to find some of his own
party gone into camp.
This incident, exciting as it was. was
not one to have caused wonder or much
comment in the upper Missouri country
Soon it appeared, however, there was I'M
usual significance in the final detail of en-
counter. This came out in Juies's story.
Before the guides tongue had been
whetted to its task / found the Santee a
parsonage of more than ordinary interest
He was of large pattern--a bronze giant
of good proportions. He had a Roman
nose Of pronounced type. wide mouth
and full lips. and face so strongly mark
ed as to demand recognition for its lines
of real power and character.
We set before our compulsory guest bis
cults. bacon and coffee. He helped him
self literally. and while he ate Jules Bot
tineau lighted his pipe and smoked vigor-
Ously for five minutes. l threw some
sticks upon our blaze, and then Jules be-
gan tG talk.
"Maza-kan-tanka"-he jcrkcd his thumb
toward the Indian-'Big Gun, he is one
chief Of the Sontees. Long time. BAN bye,
the Sontees live at Dead 'Orse Lake Me.
live at that place. too. The ASsiniboins
ware hot agin the Sontees. and they ware
hot agin me. too. by gar. BY dam they
ware hot as hell. Some year they come up
on us five-eight lombard. all one time.
They ware used to come up out of the
long grass like mosquitoes in the YER hot
weather of rain. We did fight like whirl-
wind of wildcats.
Only one time the Assiniboins ware
able to drive us off. That time the Assini-
bOin village she ware on the west side of
that lake Dead 'Orse where Il leetly river
run out. Wat you call him?-outlet. yes
There ware some islands, too, and they
come long pretty close by the shore. And
those islands, Bapteme! they did sure save
our skins from burning off the back.
That Summer we moved onto the out
let from cross the lake, and the grass she |
stand all around higher than my pony's |
back. We ware foolish? Me, know that, |
wees, sair. So the Sontees had made grass |
lodges.
The grass ware all tramp down except |
where the river run out and leetly way off |
too. on the marais-the marsh.
We'll, we ware foolish mais. but we
kill a heap of muskrat, geese and duck.
and we spear the buffalo fish in that leetly |