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them inferior goods”, said Wilcox.

“Have you learned anything since you've been here?”, asked Jim.

“A couple of things. This time there were many traders on board for the trip down river. I heard their conversations. They want the Bureau Of Indian Affairs to give the money to them instead of the Indians”, explained Wilcox

“Will Washington do that?”

“Not this year. The money is already in Galbraith's office. At present I guess there are five thousand Sioux here. Two thousand of them are men old enough to fight. I've only seen a small detachment of soldiers from fort Ridgely. The traders that they're in no position to argue being outnumbered. They'll wait, take their time. Sen their people to Washington. Once they get the money allotted to the Sioux, then they'll dictate their own policy.”

“But, aren't you actually a trader?”, asked Jim.

“No, as I mentioned, I'm a speculator. I buy cheap, but I don't cheat. In many way I'm a gambler. I stake my money on a product or a commodity. I can win or I can lose. The traders want a fixed game with them holding all of the high cards”, Wilcox answered.

“What do you think will happen?”, asked Jim

“I don't know. I might learn something tomorrow. That's when Matosapa, the Chief of the Mdewakatana Dakota Sioux meets with

Galbraith. It's called a wacipi in their language. He'll register his complaints, remind the Agent of the promises made by the Great Father

in Washington, then sit back and shake his head in disagreement at everything that Galbraith tries to explain”, Wilcox answered.

“I'd sure like to see that meeting', said Jim.

“Then, why don't you?”, asked Wilcox.

“It's time I got back to the farm”.

“Why not dine with me tonight on the Frank Steel. By then your wheat will have been loaded on the ship. I'll pay you for your grain and we can talk business, suggested Wilcox.

“What kind of business?”

“What is known as supply and demand”, answered Wilcox.

“Sounds interesting. Alright, I'll stay. Once the wagons unloaded I'll pull it in with militia's. It will be safe there. That's where I'll sleep tonight”.

“I assume that it's better than sleeping on the cold ground. Unfortunately, all of the staterooms on board the Frank Steel are occupied. I do have a house here, but at present my attorney is using it for visiting relatives”, said Wilcox.

At dinner that evening Milford Wilcox took a sip of wine, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Now, my good man I want you to know that you have an opportunity to become a very rich man. The war as unobjectionable as it may be, still provides a chance for some to benefit from its misery”, he said.

“As you said, wheat, maybe corn”, Jim replied.

“True, true, however, I'm looking for things the government will need for the war. Things like saltpeter, leather for belts, rifle slings, knapsacks and in particular, shoes', said Wilcox.

“All of which I don't have”, Jim responded.

“Allow me to finish my good man. What will be in demand is flax. Think about it. The South no longer ships cotton to the Northern mills. Union uniforms will be made out of wool or linen. Bandages and dressings will be made out of linen. Bedsheets for the hospitals, all linen. Flax then, will be in demand during this war”, Wilcox explained.

“I grow some for home use. My mother and sister still spin,

making towels and aprons”, Jim responded.

“If you are wise you will grow more”, said Wilcox.

“I'll give it some thought. Now, I'll say good evening. As I mentioned earlier, I intend to place my wagon in among the troops from the fort where my mule, wagon and hopefully, myself will be safe”, said Jim as he got up from the table.

“And a good night to you sir. I shall seek you in the morning and if we're lucky we'll find a good spot to see and overhear the meeting of Matosapa and Agent Galbraith,” said Wilcox.

That night Jim slept wrapped in his blankets in the back of an empty wagon. Waking frequently from a restless sleep he checked the bulge in his pocket, a bulge that amounted to nearly ten dollars and forty cents, money from the sale of his wheat to Milford Wilcox.

Jim met Wilcox at ten o'clock in the morning and the two men sauntered to where the meeting between Matosopa who the whites called, “Black Bear” and Agent Thomas Galbraith would take place.

“I want to get a little closer. That way I can hear what they're saying”, said Wilcox.

“Do you understand Sioux?”, asked Jim

“Not fluently, but enough to know what's going on”, answered Wilcox.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a buffalo skin drum announcing the arrival of the Sioux delegation. Both men turned their heads and watched as Matosopa and twenty men that followed him walked into the complex. As he walked the chief of the Sioux looked up into the sky, seeing the sun.

Wilcox began to laugh.

“Something funny”, asked Jim.

“Matosopa just checked the position of the sun in the sky. He'll take a seat on the ground where the sun will be behind him and in Galbraith's eyes”, explained Wilcox.

Both men watched as the door of the Indian Agency opened and Galbraith and two Bureau of Indian Affairs men walked out to where three chairs had been placed for them. There. They were forced to move the seats to a position that faced the Chief of the Sioux.

Galbraith opened the talks. “It is good to see you again Matosopa. On this day I have two men sent by the Great Father in Washington to hear your complaints and also to witness to your people. As you can see many traders and merchants are here wishing to supply you with your needs”.

Matosopa listened and when it was his turn to speak, he said, “Ten winters ago I met with men sent by the Great Father in Washington. Then, I signed a paper. The paper that your people call the “Treaties of des Sioux and Mendota. Our people now call this paper, White Man's lies. At that time I agreed to move my people to the Minnesota River. We we got there we were told that we could only live on one shore of the river or move to the Dakota Territory.

We were told that we had to learn the white man's ways. I cast off my tribal dress and wore the trousers and jacket with the brass buttons. We were told that our religion was that of savages, so I joined the Episcopal Church. I visited the Great Father in Washington. I sat and talked with him. Something that you have never done, Galbraith. I took up farming. All these things I have done, all things asked of me by the White Man. Still, you and your people lie to us. You and your people cheat us in trade and still you expect us to be thankful for the corn that you give us, corn with blue-green mold, flour with weevils. We are expected to smile as you give us the rancid meat of the pig.

Your white settlers take our land. They take our game. We have no meat. We have no furs or hides to trade and we hunger.

Your storehouses are filled with corn and sacks of flour, dried meat and fish, all those things were promised to us by the Great Father in Washington, yet we must come to you like a beggar to ask for what is rightfully ours.

Today, you pay us with paper, paper that we must give back to you when we are forced to buy the things we need, things that are double of their worth. I say to you now Galbraith the patience of my young men is breaking. Soon, I will not be able to silence them or prevent them from acting against you. You and the men sitting there with you can right this wrong. You can right it now. That's all I have to say”.

One of the men from the Bureau Of Indian Affairs spoke. “Your annuities have been reduced because of the debt you owe to the traders. Payments to your tribe are slow because there is a major war between the white people of this nation. The Great Father in Washington asked that you be patient”.

“I tell you now that we grow tired of your lies. We grow tired of eating scraps like our village dogs eat scraps. Patient? I ask the men of my tribe, many who are warriors to be patient. Now, they listen to me. I cannot say what will happen when they do not heed my words”, Matasopa responded.

The other man of the Bureau of Indian Affairs stood, ready to say something. Matosopa raised his hand. “Do not speak. I have heard many words, many times. For now, pay my people with your paper money. Then, we will trade as we must and go”. Matosopa turned and left the meeting. When he did army troops began forming the Sioux into long lines.

Jim turned to Wilcox and asked, “Well, what do you think?”

Wilcox shook his head, “It looks bad Jim. If I were you or any of the others living here in this river valley I'd be arming myself. Matosopa has twenty wives and thirty six children. They all have to be fed. He knows there is a war going on and the troops are not in Minnesota, If the traders think that he's bluffing, then they don't know that he killed his own brother in order to become Chief”.

“Oh well, we'll just have to wait ans see. Milford. It's been a pleasure meeting you as well as doing business with you. Now, I must say good by. I hope to see you here again next year”, said Jim as he shook hands with the man.

“I'm afraid that won't happen. Nonetheless, telegraph me in St. Paul from time to time letting me know what you have to offer. Meanwhile, keep your hair my friend.”

A gust of wind blew snow in his eyes causing Jim to return from his reverie and he headed into a stand of pines.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

The Uprising

 

After tending to the mule Jim trudged through the small snow drifts that had materialized among the pine trees. Fortunately for him the snows of the past three days were that of a dry snow and the scattered branches that he collected for his fire were not wet.

While the fire was burning he filled a tin cup with snow time and time again placing it near the fire pit and watched the snow melt and turn into water. When he finally had a full cup he placed a teaspoon full of tea leaves in the liquid and placed the cup on glowing embers. With a cup of hot tea, dry beef jerky and a hard biscuit he ate his supper.

As he ate he gazed into the glowing fire. The pine wood crackled from time to time. When it did sparks rose up into the darkening sky appearing like fireflies in the cold night Air.

Fire, he became mesmerized by it and his mind wandered back in time, to the summer of 1862. Tom Martin Jr. had been killed at the Battle of the first Bull Run and Jim helped Virginia through her mourning until she eventually accepted her brothers death.

Jim and Ben continued to argue about everything in general, but the planting of crops in particular. Jim cleared another five acres and planted wheat. Instead of corn he planted flax and as usual his crops thrived and he had an excellent harvest. With a trip into Mankato he sent a telegram to Milford Wilcox offering both his wheat and his flax to the man. Also requested was an offered price.

While in town he got a haircut, then walked down the street looking into shop windows. He marveled at the many new items that were now on the market. Glassware, pottery, silver eating utensils manufactured men shirts and collars all on display and

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