Three Years on the Plains: Observations of Indians, 1867-1870 — Edition Insights

A Parley and Its Missteps

The excerpted negotiation between General Smith and a Sioux chief illustrates how miscommunication and mistrust shaped encounters. The chief refuses Smith's handshake, citing a brother killed at the Phil Kearney massacre. Smith demands restraint; the chief asks for food. When a cavalry company appears prematurely, the Indians flee, and Smith is 'very much provoked' by the interruption. The episode ends with a single gunshot fired at the fort—a gesture of defiance rather than an attack. Tuttle reports that the Indians later burned abandoned forts, believing the withdrawals were acts of fear. The passage reveals how small tactical errors could reinforce Indian perceptions of U.S. weakness.

Cataloging Customs and Conflicts

Tuttle's table of contents reads like a ledger of frontier concerns: 'Why do Indians scalp their Enemies?', 'Indian Boy's Education', 'Merciful Indians', and 'Shall the Indians be exterminated?' The chapters mix ethnographic notes with accounts of raids, massacres, and horse thefts. The author's position as a 'medicine-man' (chaplain) gives him access to ceremonies such as the Sioux Sun Dance, described as 'a Horrible Scene.' Yet the book also includes lighter entries—'A Good Joke by Little Raven' and 'Making Presents'—suggesting an attempt to balance horror with humanity. The structure itself mirrors the fragmented, opportunistic nature of frontier knowledge.

Voices of Authority and Defiance

Direct speech punctuates the narrative, lending immediacy to key moments. The chief's declaration—'I swore never again to shake hands with a white man'—and his retort, 'If you are so strong ... why did you not keep your forts?' give voice to Indian perspectives, however mediated. Sherman's letter, meanwhile, provides an official rationale for hardline policy. Tuttle does not resolve these competing voices; he presents them side by side. The result is a document that captures the unresolved arguments of its era, without imposing a single interpretive frame.

The Weight of a Single Shot

The evening gun at the fort, the halted Indian party, the aimed rifle, the ball striking the parade-ground—Tuttle records this sequence with a reporter's eye for detail. The shot does no harm, but it crystallizes the fragility of peace. In the aftermath, the forts are abandoned and burned. The narrative does not moralize; it simply notes that the Indians 'thought the government did it from fear.' This understated observation carries more force than any editorial comment.

Readers should approach Three Years on the Plains as a primary source shaped by its author's position as a military chaplain and his reliance on secondhand reports. The book's episodic structure rewards selective reading: the negotiations, ceremonies, and quoted speeches offer the richest material. Tuttle's own judgments are often implicit, embedded in what he chooses to include and how he orders it.

I kept thinking about Tuttle’s quiet, uneasy moments with the Sioux—how much was left unsaid in those parleys. Then I found The bar act — Themes and Context, and it reminded me of that same feeling: people circling each other, words doing more to hide than reveal. It lingered, like a half-finished sentence you can’t quite shake.