I closed my last letter prematurely, in order to give it to General Hardie, who accompanied General Sanborn to Larned on Thursday night. During the day Champ Vaughn brought in despatches from Colonel Murphy, stating that, among other interesting incidents, "Roman Nose" had ridden down to camp one night, with about ten men, and had declared his intention to kill the agent, Colonel Wynkoop. One of the men of the party was on the point of firing at the Chief, when Murphy stopped him and probably prevented the massacre of the whole party. Wynkoop hurried up to Larned, and "Roman Nose" was assured that he had departed. He still professes his intention to slaughter him.

    As we came in sight of the Thursday night camping place, with Pawnee Rock looming up like a house in the distance, a herd of buffalo was seen on the river bank, on the side nearest us, while about one hundred were visible on the south bank. There was an immediate flurry. Everyone looked out of the ambulances. Howland and Chamblin got on their horses, and, with carbines in hand, hurried off in pursuit, as did some of the scouts. But it was in vain. The herd on the north bank crossed, and, though the others remained in sight for some time, some of the pursuers were unable to find a ford, and those who did cross were unable to accomplish results. So we had no fresh meat.

    Camp was pitched and another night was spent,--a quiet one, rendered musical by the hawking of wild geese and the wailing of coyotes,--"the wolves' long howl from Oonalaska's shore." The artist proposed to establish a circus and the Itemizer said "let him cirk," but the tent had been inadvertently pitched almost on a side hill and that hindered operations. It also came to pass that on various occasions during the night those who laid on the top of the hill rolled to the bottom, to the great prejudice of those who slept at the bottom.
    In the morning, while shivering, long before the sun had arisen, the reveille sounded, it was about 3 o'clock, and those inmates of the press tent who had during sleep succeeded in wrapping their bedclothes around their feet, or losing them altogether, got up, dressed, and ravenously waited for breakfast. That lovely meal was accomplished by candlelight. This is inconvenient, since, in the uncertain light, one puts odd bits of spermaceti in the coffee, instead of sugar, and eats fried onions for potatoes, embarrassing both. We chanced to eat first, the Commissioners not having finished their elaborate toilets.

    The start was made on that Friday before sunrise. On we moved in regular order, over a country which differed in little or nothing from that previously travelled over, except that the growth of grass was much more luxuriant. There were signs of buffalo and an abundance of prairie dogs. The honorable the Secretary of the Commission attempted to kill one. He fired about six times, the dog waiting with commendable patience until the cartridges were exhausted, when he went into his hole and probably queried of his companions what the gentleman wanted.
    It is sad to say, but it is true to say, that the only animal who has as yet been slaughtered was a skunk, who was found loafing in the vicinity of a slough. The Senator, the Governor, and all who possessed weapons, joined in the chase. For every miss there was an excellent excuse, and though nearly all missed, each one found a different reason why. On the banks of the Pawnee Fork, which empties into the Arkansas near Fort Larned, a halt was made for lunch, and, squatting picturesquely in the shade of an ambulance, all ate and ate again, the only misadventures being that the sardines were spilt over the tongue, and that General Harney's liquor case was empty.

    Here the General and Colonel Tappan decided to go over to Larned, which was just in sight. So they, in their ambulance, followed by us in ours, started for the post. General Harney fixed his eyes on the flagstaff and directed the driver to go for it. The result was that he deserted the road and crossed about a dozen ravines of varying depth. The post, which we finally reached is a considerable one, near the place where the Pawnee Fork empties into the Arkansas. Some large buildings are being built out of a soft sand stone which hardens, upon exposure to the air, while others, especially the guard-house, are adobe.
    We stopped at the sutlers, of course, rushed in and bought tobacco and an excellent article of ale. That disposed of frequently, we called upon the gentle Satanta and some of his braves, who professed their disinclination to stay where they were. They could not endure the smell of white men. It was peculiarly offensive to them. They preferred to go to camp and tent there. In order to celebrate the opening glorious era of peace, liquor was called for and the braves were treated. They stood up, touched their glasses in white fashion, said "how," and put it down.
    Satanta is a fine-looking, large Indian, with a splendid head, and has been making money in his peculiar fashion for the last two years. He has done some curious things, such as ripping open captives, and was, when we saw him, dressed in the coat of some murdered teamster; but he is at present a very peaceable Indian.

    Governor Crawford in his testimony pitches into peaceable Indians, and charges that even the Osages have been out on the war path, while those who did not go so far, sold arms, etc., to the hostile ones. He tells of an ingenious Indian agent now worth $60,000 but who entered on his duties penniless. Said agent, says one Osage Chief, went to the Chiefs and bribed them to receive their annuity of $15,000 in goods, not money. The goods equivalent thereto were sent there in two small wagons. Blankets rated at $20 were worth about $2.
    The Governor disapproves of the entire Indian system, and does not think Indian agents can be honest. The position which the Governor holds is certainly a difficult one. Outrages arising from any and every cause are committed on his citizens. Complaints are made to him, and he is unable to afford redress. Naturally, he is bitter; naturally, he is set in his opinions. He does not believe that the commission can accomplish any good. The Indians will keep quiet, he thinks, until they have their goods. Then there will be war, and it will be well for the Commissioners to have a strong rear guard. He shares what may be called a frontier feeling, the feeling of Western Massachusetts, once upon a time. That feeling is not much appreciated there now. Ideas of Indian life drawn from Emerson Bennett and the Beadle dime novel are entertaining, but not particularly safe to act upon. The dark-eyed fawn of the tribe and the noble Chief who captures the white maid, courts her, fails to win her love, and then broken-hearted only turns her over to the pale faces, are pretty to read of. The only defect is that they do not exist. If the Governors of Western States and Territories would unite in an attempt to cut off the circulation of such books, public sentiment at the East would be much more healthy. The gentle Indian does not give up captives often. When he captures a man, he is too apt to cut off fingers and toes and draw out the sinews or order to prevent him from hunting in the Spirit Land.

    We left Larned in the afternoon, and after driving a few miles crossed the Arkansas and went into camp with the rest of the outfit. Leavenworth, Wynkoop, and Murphy were all at the fort, and all came over to the camp, full of hope, even Wynkoop, for whom "Roman Nose" so yearned. This agent, who, like Leavenworth, is poor and honest, was unfortunate in being mixed up with the burning of the Cheyenne village by Hancock. He strove to prevent it, but in vain. They, however, are not aware of it, and hence don't love him.

    The night was an outrageously noisy one. The train from Larned with the Indian goods had come up, and a shouting of teamsters, yelling of wolves, and rejoicing of mules, prevailed until an early hour in the morning. All night long trains were crossing the river, and the shouts of the teamsters and the crack of their whips rang from one end of the camp to the other.
    An earnest discussion sprang up in the press tent, the theme being the Indian question, and especially the burning of the Cheyenne village. The two Bs divided on that point, the greater one approving it, since in 1857 his father's four mules been slaughtered on the Santa Fe road, near where the camp was, thus reducing his father from affluence to comparative poverty. He proposed to get up then and there, and go out and view the mouldering bones of his father's fortune. So great was his excitement that he jumped out of bed and oratorically raved from one end of the apartment to the other.
    While we thus discussed, some of the Commissioners and the Governor were arguing over the same ground, and the Governor, not being well posted, was routed, even though aided by a Kansas doctor, whose natural zeal was increased by the fact that when at Larned Satanta had hugged him unawares and distributed red paint over his hat.
    On Saturday morning all were up early, but delay came after delay. The people did not arrive from Larned. We drove down to the river crossing to water, and were greeted by edifying sights and sounds. Some of Murphy's wagons were crossing the broad, shallow stream, just lit up by the sunlight. From fourteen to twenty mules were hitched to each one, but half a dozen of the teams had stuck, and a terrible uproar arose. The mules pitched, kicked and backed. Some got entangled in the traces and fell. The teamsters, either mounted or wading swore, and yelled and howled, and cracked their whips. It was a chorus of "Hi ya, get up Carrat; G-d d--n you;" while on the bank, and a thousand feet from them, stood General Harney, who could not restrain himself at the sight of what he considered blundering.
    Then, when the infantry companies marched up to the north bank, and were being placed in wagons to be taken over, his indignation grew still higher.
    "Wagon troops over such a brook as that!" [The water was up their waists, and cold as fury.] "Yes, let them take off their shoes, and their breeches, if necessary and come. By G-d, what is the army coming to? I thank God I'm growing old."
    But with many a struggle, and oath, and plunge, mules and teamsters got out of the yielding quicksands, drove up on firmer shore, and wheeled into place in the lengthening line. The sun rose higher and higher. The train spread itself out into the prairie--the wagons with the infantry and the teams with the Indian goods keeping side by side--but after proceeding half a mile a halt was made. The Indians, Satanta and his friends, had not arrived. It was ten o'clock and more when we did move on, at first across a rolling country, somewhat like that near Laramie, and then over a dead level plain, flat as a floor almost, with here and there vegetation in the form of thistles, silk weed and euphorbia. These interesting weeds were scattered around at intervals of six feet. At that time, too, we began to see evident traces of buffalo. The narrow, foot and a half wide paths in which they move along in single file, continually crossed our path. Buffalo chips, three, two or one day's old, were lying in all directions.
    But the rage for buffalo hunting, which had run so high on the previous day, was somewhat lessened by two things: The military had issued an order that no one should leave the line of march--that is, struggle--nor fire off arms, without permission. The expert in shooting had also told alarming stories, which had alarmed the inexperienced brethren. At the moment, however, that we came in sight of the animals in question feeding along on both sides of the road, at distances varying from a quarter of a mile to a mile, the excitement grew great, and young Taylor, Howland, and some others started in pursuit. They were successful in killing an old bull, consuming about eighteen shots in the operation.

    The weary march kept on, the monotony relieved only by the continued droves of buffalo which moved along near us. Howland followed off in pursuit of three and was able, with much effort, being mounted on a poor horse, to get near to and kill one, but was an old bull and was left. The character of the soil changed repeatedly and with it the vegetation. It was sometimes sandy, covered by tufts of coarse grass; sometimes dark earth, bearing the short buffalo grass.
    Just before lunch time, Generals Augur and Hardie came up from Larned, and were joyously received. The latter officer, who was on duty in the War Department for three years, immediately under Mr. Stanton, is well known to all who ever had to deal with that office. He has had much experience with Indians on the Western coast, and is one of the pleasantest, most conversational men with the commission. Satanta and the other Chiefs had come up before. On the previous night they had all obtained liquor, and got furiously drunk. During the whole night they danced, sung, and stood on their Indian heads. Satanta had a bugle, and on that he tooted incessantly all night, and set wild echoes flying recklessly and without regard to tune. The entire population of the post was up.
    The camp on Rattlesnake Creek was reached about 5 o'clock. The creek is a dirty stream, with muddy banks and with much grass growing in it. The buffalo were feeding in every direction, and were constantly coming down to drink. The sun set and none were shot at. The coyotes commenced their musical concert, and Commissioner Taylor upset the pipe of the cooking stove and played the devil with the fried onions.
    The teamsters flitted around and picked up buffalo chips, in addition to those which they had picked up on the way and put in the troughs fastened at the end of their wagons. The tents were pitched, and we went to work to put outside the copious supply of fuel which lay on the floor. In came Colonel Wynkoop, the Cheyenne agent, good soldier, and jolly good fellow, and explained why the Cheyennes had taken such a prejudice against him. The Itemizer got reckless, and declared that food was a matter of utter indifference--only he must have pickled onions, and pickled onions he had.
    When I woke on the previous Sunday at Leavenworth, my eyes met mosquito curtains, papered walls, glass windows and people walking on the other side of the street. Last Sunday I arose about four o'clock. The moon at her full was still high in the heavens. No one was stirring except the sentries who paced slowly along, or the picketed mules grazing to the end of their tether. But the reveille sounded, and all begun to be life among cavalrymen and teamsters. The fires by which they boiled their coffee began starting up at point after point. Then in the gray of the morning the same buffalo, thousands in number, which we had noticed on the day preceding, were discerned feeding in the distance.
    Breakfast differed in naught from its predecessors, save that all gorged on buffalo meat. All that Sunday we moved steadily on, with an occasional halt to allow the trains to come up. The distance accomplished was thirty miles, and part of it over a most beautiful country, thickly covered with buffalo grass. Some of the way, too, it was hopelessly sterile, the soil sandy and the grass coarse. Numerous buffalo were in sight, and one herd swept directly across our line of march, about two hundred yards distant. They moved hurriedly on in single file, lumbering along with their little tails stuck up in the air and the buffalo dogs in pursuit, trying to head them off. They partially succeeded and one was killed by the artist. This whole business of killing was very displeasing to Satanta and his accompanying Chiefs, even though the meat was actually employed for the use of the party. But Satanta is not very popular, and little regard is paid to his wishes.
    Late in the afternoon we came to camp on Medicine Lodge Creek, passing scenery which differed materially from what we had been passing through. A rapid stream, running clear, over sand and pebbles, flowed through a narrow bottom, which was well timbered and had a dense undergrowth. On each side the ground was heavily undulating, and the camp was pitched on a sort of bluff point which had just room enough for the commission itself.
    There is no limit to the dreadful monotony of this country, stretching on from the Arkansas to the Canadian, and from that stream to the head waters of Texan streams. It stretches out illimitably, like the sea, and with the same distinct horizon. In it the five or ten thousand men of Governor Crawford might be kept Indian hunting for years, without finding one, except by the sheerest accident. For twenty or thirty miles there is no water. The only roads are the narrow paths in which the buffalo shamble along--paths as clear and distinct as those across any country field. Scattered here and there, are the little round wallows, looking like immense wash-basins, so regular are they, in which the buffalo has rolled around until he has worked the earth out. Occasionally one sees a cactus, but thistles and two other articles, with the grapes, comprise the vegetation. The prairie dogs perch above their holes, the coyotes skulk along at a distance, and they, with snakes and buffalo, make up the inhabitants.

    We had encamped on Sunday night eight miles from the Indians, on a branch of Medicine Lodge Creek. This morning we made an early start, and reached the red men by ten o'clock. The road passed over sandy gravelly land, making wide circuits to avoid ravines, and keeping constantly in sight the heavily timbered creek. Presently ponies were seen, pasturing on the hill slopes, and then at the bottom of one descent and close up into the timber appeared one encampment of a hundred lodges. Colonel Murphy, who had come on a day ahead, was here to meet us. According to him, all was going on well. The Cheyennes had come in on the previous day, but, hearing of the approaching soldiers, had gone off about ten miles. Several of the Dog Soldiers of the Cheyennes were with them.
    Thus stands the scene of action. The Medicine Lodge here runs in a semi-circle. Near the timber at the western end of that circle are the lodges of the Arapahoes and the tents of Murphy, Butterfield and the other first comers. Then, in the open place nearer the water, are the tents and wagons of the commission. Still further from the circle and a quarter of a mile off, come the Comanches, Kiowas and the few Apaches here. There are in all about 5,000 Indians.

    Of the Medicine Lodge Creek little is known. The name appears on no map, and it is uncertain into what stream it empties. The geography of the country south of the Arkansas is almost unknown. But few explorers have pushed southward over that section, and of the character of the land and of its streams we are ignorant.

    When the Commissioners reached the Arapahoe camp, there was an outpouring of Chiefs to see them. Quite a number of Cheyennes were there, and among them "Bull Bear," the head of the Dog Soldiers, who started off after his people, and will not return for two days. The men of his nation will not be in a for week and for that time we will stay here. "Bull Bear" showed some hesitancy about shaking hands with Wynkoop, but finally consented. Some of the Arapahoes who like the Colonel came out and, after shaking hands, each fell on the other's neck, while the Colonel affectionately patted their backs with the left hand, as is the fashion on the stage. Near the Arapahoe camp is an enclosure built of boughs by the squaws, in which the council is to held.
    It was decided, soon after reaching here, to change the encampment of the commission. The Indians were greatly exercised in mind about the soldiers, and there were many fears of a collision if they were together. So all moved up the creek and on the south side, a mile from the nearest Indians. Several Chiefs, and among them George Bent, mounted and came up to camp, the Comanches being most noticeable for their brilliant costumes and highly colored faces. One little child, of which its father was very proud, had its face covered with yellow, then a series of red lines ran curving from each corner of his mouth to his ears. The taste for decorative art was very strong. One old gentleman handed up a notebook captured from some unlucky teamster, on one or two pages of which he had drawn and colored scenes wherein he was represented as killing a white man. To these little pictures he invited the attention of everyone.

Source:

Unknown, "The Indians; Journey of the Indian Commission To Meet the Southwestern Tribes," Chicago Tribune, Chicago, Illinois, Tuesday, 22 October, 1867, Page 2.