off from every natural resource, on a tract of land
twenty miles by thirty, which to them was virtual imprisonment. By
treaty stipulation with the government, they were to be fed and clothed,
houses were to be built for them, the men taught agriculture, and
schools provided for the children. In addition to this, a trust fund
of a million and a half was to be set aside for them, at five per cent
interest, the interest to be paid annually per capita. They had signed
the treaty under pressure, believing in these promises on the faith of a
great nation.

However, on entering the new life, the resources so rosily described to
them failed to materialize. Many families faced starvation every winter,
their only support the store of the Indian trader, who was baiting his
trap for their destruction. Very gradually they awoke to the facts.
At last it was planned to secure from them the north half of their
reservation for ninety-eight thousand dollars, but it was not explained
to the Indians that the traders were to receive all the money.
Little Crow made the greatest mistake of his life when he signed this
agreement.

Meanwhile, to make matters worse, the cash annuities were not paid for
nearly two years. Civil War had begun. When it was learned that the
traders had taken all of the ninety-eight thousand dollars "on account",
there was very bitter feeling. In fact, the heads of the leading stores
were afraid to go about as usual, and most of them stayed in St. Paul.
Little Crow was justly held in part responsible for the deceit, and his
life was not safe.

The murder of a white family near Acton, Minnesota, by a party of Indian
duck hunters in August, 1862, precipitated the break. Messengers were
sent to every village with the news, and at the villages of Little Crow
and Little Six the war council was red-hot. It was proposed to take
advantage of the fact that north and south were at war to wipe out the
white settlers and to regain their freedom. A few men stood out against
such a desperate step, but the conflagration had gone beyond their
control.

There were many mixed bloods among these Sioux, and some of the Indians
held that these were accomplices of the white people in robbing them
of their possessions, therefore their lives should not be spared. My
father, Many Lightnings, who was practically the leader of the Mankato
band (for Mankato, the chief, was a weak man), fought desperately for
the lives of the half-breeds and