Rensselaer Republican, Volume 12, Number 9, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 November 1879 — AMONG THE INDIANS. [ARTICLE]

AMONG THE INDIANS.

JotopUa* Meeker’s Story of the WhileRiver Massacre. Miss Josephine Meeker, a daughter of Agent Meeker, gives the following account of the outbreak at the White-Riv-er Agency: The first I heard of any trouble with the Indian* at my father’s agency was the firing at Mr. Price while he was plowing for Inman crops according to Government Instructions. The Indians had the idea and said that as soon as the land was plowed It would cease to belong to the Utes. Two or three councils were held, and an Indian woman, Jane, the wife of Panvltts, was the cause of the whole trouble. It was finally settled by the agent giving her a corral, building her a house, patting up a stove and digging a well. The Indians tnen agreed to the plowing for a certain distance, half way to the river. Johnson, however, who was not at the council, got angry with the agent and the Indians when he found the plowing had been resumed. He seriously assaulted my father and forced him from his house. The agent wrote to the Government to the effect t hat if its policy wrs to be carried out he must have protection. The response to this was that tne agent should be sustained. Governor Pitkin wrote that troops had been sent, and we heard no more untU a Ute runner came In greatly excited and said the soldiers were on Bear River, sixty miles north or the agency.' On Monday at noon Mr. Eskridge, who took the agent’s message to Thornburgh, returned, saying the troops were making a day-and-night march, and it must be kept secret: but Thornburgh wanted it to be given out to Indians that be would meet five Utes at Milk Creek, fifteen miles from the agency, on Monday Might, tad desired an’ tm meat ate answer. Thornburgh was expected to reach the agency on Tuesday at noon with the troops. The Indians, who at first were angry, brightened up, and Douglass sent two Indians with one white man, Eskridge, to meet Thornburgh. Secretly, however, the Utes were preparing for the massacre, for just before Eskridge left with the Indians a runner was seen rushing up to the tent of Douglass with what I since learned was news of the soldiers fighting. Half an hour later twenty armed Indians came to the agency from the camp of Douglass and began firing. I was in the kitchen with my mother washing the dishes. It was after noon. I looked out of the window and saw the Utes shooting the boys who were working on the new building. Mrs. Price was at the door washing clothes. She rushed in and took Johnnie, the baby, to fly. Just then Frank Dresser, an employe, staggered in, shot through the leg. I “ Here, Frank, is Mr. Price’s gun.” It lay on the bed. He took it, and just as we were fleeing out of the door the windows were smashed In and half a dozen shots were fired into the room. Frank Dresser fired and killed Johnson’s brother. We ran into the milk room, which had only one small window, and looked the door and hid under a shelf. Firing went on for several hours at intervals. There was no shouting, no noise, but frequent firing. We stayed in the milk room until it began to fill with smoke. The sun was half an hour f took May Price, three years old, and we all ran to father’s room. It was not disturbed. We knew the building would be burned, and ran across Douglass avenue for a field of sage brush beyond the plowed ground. The Utes were so busy stealing the annuity goods that they did not see us at first. About thirty of them, loaded with blankets, were carrying them toward Douglass’ camp, near the river. We had gone one hundred yards when the Utes saw us. They threw down the blankets and came running toward us, firing as they came. Bullets whizzed as thick as grasshoppers around us. Ido not think tbeylntended to kill us—only to frighten us—but they tried to shoot Frank Dresser, who had almost reached the sage brush. Mother whs hit by a bullet, which went through her underclothing and made a flesh wound three inches long. As the Indians came nearer they shouted: , “Wo no shoot! Come to us I” I had the little girl, and the Indian named Pursune said for me to go with him. He and another Ute seized me by the arms and started toward the river. An Unoompahgre Indian took Mrs. Price and her baby, and mother was taken to the headquarters of Douglass. We came to a wide irrigating canal which father had the Indians build. I said I could not cross it. The Indians answered by pushing me through the water. I had on only moccasins, and the water and mud were deep. The baby waded, too, and both of us camCVjut wet to the skin.

As we were walking- in Chief Joseph came and pushed away Pursune, and, in great anger, told nim to give me up. I understood some of the language. Pursune refused to surrender me. Hot words ensued, and I feared the men would tight for a moment. 1 thought I would ask Douglass to take me, but as both were drunk I kept silent, and afterward was glad I did not go. Douglass finally went away, and we walked on toward the river. Before reaching the stream, not more than two* hundred yards away, both my conductors pulled ont bottles and drank twice. No whisky was sold at the Agency. Their bottles were not Agency bobties. The Indian, Pursune. took me to where his ponies were standing by the river, and seated me on a pile of blankets while he went for more. The Indians were now on all sides. I could not escape. Pursune packed bis effects, all stolen from the agency, on a Government mule which was taller than a tall man. He had two mules, stolen from the agency. It was now sundown. Packing was finished at dark, and we started for the wilderness of the south. We trotted along until nine o’clock, when we halted for half an hour. All the Indians dismounted, and blankets were spread on tbe ground, ana I laid down to rest, with my mother lying not far from me. Chief Douglass was considerably excited and made a speech to me with many gestures and great emphasis. He recited his grievanoes and explained why the massacre began. He said Thornburgh told the Indians that he was going to arrest the head chiefs, take them to Fort Steel and put them In the calaboose—perhaps hang them. He said my father had written all the letters to the Denver papers and circulated wild reports about wbat the Indians would do, as set forth by the Western press, and that he was responsible for all the hostility against the Indians among the whites in the West. He said pictures of tbe agent and all his family, women and children, had been found on 'teernbargfc’s body Just before the attack on the agency, and the pictures were covered with blood and showed marks of knives on different parts of tbe bodies. The throats were cut. The one of the agent had a bullet h#ie in his head. He said I was represented in ops of the pictures as shot through the breast. Douglass said my father had made these pictures, representing the prospective fate of his family, and sent them to Washington to be used to influence the soldiers and hurry troops forward to fight the Indians. Miss Meeker then relates how the Indians tried to frighten her; describes her life in the Indian camps and the kindness of some of the sqnaws and finally the release of the captives. She .says: “I want to thank Chief Ouray, nis wife, and General Adams. To them we owe our escape.” —The grain market in New York is feverish. It is likely that the wheat in bulk has been allowed to he^t. — Fj%, change.