Narrative of My Captivity Among the Sioux IndiansKelly, Fanny
History
Narrative of My Captivity Among the Sioux Indians
Kelly, Fanny
Dakota Indians -- History; Dakota Indians -- Wars -- 1862-1865; Indian captivities -- West (U.S.); Kelly, Fanny, 1845-1904
“It was the squaw who had implored me to go with her to the white man’s
fort,” I said, “and find her a white warrior for a husband; but, true to
my faith with the Indians, I refused.”
The wily Egosegalonicha, thus finding her weapons turned against
herself, appeared confused, and suddenly left the tent, at which the
old chief smiled grimly.
Slander, like a vile serpent, coils itself among these Indian women;
and, as with our fair sisters in civilized society, when reality fails,
invention is called in to supply the defect. They delight in scandal,
and prove by it their claim to some of the refined conventionalities of
civilized life.
Porcupine had spread the news abroad in the village that a large reward
had been offered for the white woman, consequently I was sought for,
the motive being to gain the reward.
One day an Indian, whom I had seen in different places, and whose wife
I had known, made signs intimating a desire for my escape, and assuring
me of his help to return to my people.
I listened to his plans, and although I knew my position in such a case
to be one of great peril; yet I felt continually that my life was of so
little value that any opportunity, however slight, was as a star in the
distance, and escape should be attempted, even at a risk.
We conversed as well as we could several times, and finally
arrangements were made. At night he was to make a slight scratching
noise at the tipi where I was, as a sign. The night came, but I was
singing to the people, and could not get away. Another time we had
visitors in the lodge, and I would be missed. The next night I arose
from my robe, and went out into the darkness. Seeing my intended
rescuer at a short distance, I approached and followed him. We ran
hastily out of the village about a mile, where we were to be joined by
the squaw who had helped make the arrangements and was favorable to
the plan for my escape, but she was not there. White Tipi (that was
the Indian’s name) looked hastily around, and, seeing no one, darted
suddenly away, without a word of explanation. Why the Indian acted thus
I never knew. It was a strange proceeding.
Fear lent me wings, and I flew, rather than ran, back to my tipi, or
lodge, where, exhausted and discouraged, I dropped on the ground and
feigned slumber, for the inmates were already aroused, having just
discovered my absence. Finding me apparently asleep, they lifted me up,
and taking me into the tent, laid me upon my own robe.
The next evening White Tipi sent for me to come to his lodge, to a
feast, where I was well and hospitably entertained, but not a sign
given of the adventure of the previous night. But when the pipe was
passed, he requested it to be touched to my lips, then offered it to
the Great Spirit, thus signifying his friendship for me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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