Mrs. Mills Jumped Up Instantly And Exclaimed, "I Knew It - I Knew It!"
And Rushed To The Back Part Of The House, The Rest Of Us Running After
Her.
She went on through to the Chinaman's room, and there, on his
cot, lay the little man, his face even then the color of old ivory.
He
had fired a small Derringer straight to his heart and was quite dead.
I did not like to look at the dying man, so I ran for the doctor and
almost bumped against him at the gate as he was passing. There was
nothing that he could do, however.
Mrs. Mills told us that Sam had been an inveterate gambler - that he
had won a great deal of money from the soldiers, particularly one, who
had that very day threatened to kill him, accusing the Chinaman of
having cheated. The soldier probably had no intention of doing
anything of the kind, but said it to frighten the timid heathen, just
for revenge. Sam had eaten a little dinner, and was eating ice-cream,
evidently, when something or somebody made him go to his room and
shoot himself. The next morning the Chinamen in the garrison buried
him - not in the post cemetery, but just outside. Upon the grave they
laid one or two suits of clothing, shoes - all Chinese, of course - and
a great quantity of food - much of it their own fruits. That was for
his spirit until it reached the Happy Land. The coyotes ate the food,
but a Chinaman would never believe that, so more food was taken out
this morning.
They are such a queer people! Hang's breakfast usually consists of a
glass of cold water with two or three lumps of sugar dissolved in it
and a piece of bread broken in it also. When it is necessary for Hang
to be up late and do much extra work, I always give him a can of
salmon, of which he seems very fond - or a chicken, and tell him to
invite one or two friends to sit with him. This smooths away all
little frowns and keeps things pleasant. Volmer killed the chicken
once, and Hang brought it to me with eyes blazing - said it was
poor - and "He ole-ee hin," so I found that the only way to satisfy the
suspicious man was to let him select his own fowl. He always cooks it
in the one way - boils it with Chinese fruits and herbs, and with the
head and feet on - and I must admit that the odor is appetizing. But I
have never tasted it, although Hang has never failed to save a nice
piece for me. He was with Mrs. Pierce two years, and it was some time
before I could convince him that this house was regulated my way and
not hers. Major Pierce was promoted to another regiment and we miss
them very much.
FORT SHAW, MONTANA TERRITORY,
July, 1882.
THE garrison seems lonesome since the two companies have been out, and
I am beginning to feel that I am at home alone quite too much. Faye
was in Washington two months, and almost immediately after he got back
he was ordered to command the paymaster's escort from Helena here, and
now he is off again for the summer! The camp is on Birch Creek not far
from the Piegan Agency. The agents become frightened every now and
then, and ask for troops, more because they know the Indians would be
justified in giving trouble than because there is any.
An officer is sent from the post to inspect all the cattle and rations
that are issued to them - yet there is much cheating. Once it was
discovered that a very inferior brand of flour was being given the
Indians - that sacks with the lettering and marks of the brand the
government was supposed to issue to them had been slipped over the
sacks which really held the inferior flour, and carefully tied. Just
imagine the trouble some one had taken, but there had been a fat
reward, of course, and then, where had those extra sacks come
from - where had the fine flour gone?
Some one could have explained it all. I must admit, however, that
anyone who has seen an Indian use flour would say that the most
inferior grade would be good enough for them, to be mixed in dirty old
pans, with still dirtier hands. This lack of cleanliness and
appreciation of things by the Indians makes stealing from them very
tempting.
The very night after the troops had gone out there was an excitement
in the garrison, and, as usual, I was mixed up in it, not through my
own choosing, however. I had been at Mrs. Palmer's playing whist
during the evening, and about eleven o'clock two of the ladies came
down to the house with me. The night was the very darkest I ever saw,
and of this we spoke as we came along the walk. Almost all the lights
were out in the officers' quarters, making the whole post seem dismal,
and as I came in the house and locked the door, I felt as if I could
never remain here until morning. Hang was in his room, of course but
would be no protection whatever if anything should happen.
Major and Mrs. Stokes have not yet returned from the East, so the
adjoining house is unoccupied, and on my right is Mrs. Norton, who is
alone also, as Doctor Norton is in camp with the troops. She had urged
me to go to her house for the night, but I did not go, because of the
little card party. I ran upstairs as though something evil was at my
heels and bolted my door, but did not fasten the dormer windows that
run out on the roof in front. Before retiring, I put a small, lighted
lantern in a closet and left the door open just a little, thinking
that the streak of light would be cheering and the lantern give me a
light quickly if I should need one.
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