I remained in Wyoming one year, then started for Washington, resolved to present a claim to the Government for losses sustained at the hands of the Indians. I knew what difficulties beset my path, but duty to my child urged me on, and I was not without some hope of success. After learning of my captivity through Captain Fisk, President Lincoln had issued orders to the different military commanders that my freedom from the Indians must be purchased at any price; and my sad story was well known to the then existing authorities when I arrived in Washington. President Grant, learning through a friend from Colorado of my presence, sent for me, and assured me of his warmest sympathy. He was cognizant of what had already transpired relative to me, and told me the papers were on file in the War Department, in charge of General Sherman. In presenting my claim, many difficulties had to be encountered; but members of Congress, realizing that some compensation was due me, and understanding the delay that would result from a direct application to the Indian Bureau, introduced a bill appropriating to me five thousand dollars for valuable services rendered the Government in saving Captain Fisk’s train from destruction, and by timely warning saving Fort Sully from pillage, and its garrison from being massacred. This was done without my having any knowledge of it until after the bill had passed both houses of Congress and become a law. During my stay in Washington, Red Cloud, and a delegation of chiefs and head warriors from the different tribes of the Dakota or Sioux nation, arrived. They all recognized me as once having been with their people, and seemed quite rejoiced at the meeting. Some of the good Christian people of the city extended to the Indians, through me, an invitation to attend church one Sabbath, which I made known to Red Cloud, telling him of the great organ, the fine music they would hear, and of the desire the good people had to benefit their souls. Red Cloud replied with dignity that he did not have to go to the big house to talk to the Great Spirit; he could sit in his tipi or room, and the Great Spirit would listen. The Great Spirit was not where the big music was. No, he would not go. None of the Indians accepted the invitation; but some of the squaws went, escorted to the church in elegant carriages; but they soon left in disgust. The dazzling display of fine dresses, the beautiful church, and the “big music”—none of these had interest for them, if unaccompanied by a feast. I attended several of the councils held with the Indians. At one of them, Red Cloud addressed Secretary Cox and Commissioner Parker in a lengthy speech on the subject of his grievances, in which he referred to me as follows. Pointing me out to the Secretary and Commissioner, he said: