They have come, like an army with banners, have these long-expected Cheyennes, and the mingled hope, fear and curiosity which animated us, are at end. On the south bank of the little creek, half concealed from view by the timber which lines its further side, are the four hundred lodges where these warriors of the plain, this breech-clouted chivalry of the prairie, are encamped with squaws and children, confident in their own strength and the weakness of the whites, and quite assured that General Hancock's performance of the spring cannot be repeated. Quite the reverse. They have come flushed with victory. They concede peace--they do not sue for it.
    It had been bitterly cold on Saturday night, but Sunday was one of the most beautiful days that we have had here. A cloudless sky, warm sun, gentle breeze and nothing to do, made it perfection. Just before dinner, and when all were scattered around the camp--some reading the Bible, others books of a profaner nature, and others betting that the Cheyennes would not come, casting discredit on the medicine performance and laughing at the over-credulous Harney--one or two who had been out across the creek came hurrying back and reported that beyond the ridge they had seen immense numbers of Indians moving in upon us.
    All idleness departed. In a few minutes more it was known that the long-looked-for were coming. They had sent in word before that they wanted no other Indians around the camp when they appeared. A half hour before the report of their advent, the squaws, children and braves of the Arapahoes and Kiowas were all about us. They invaded every tent, were squatted around cooks, and seated themselves upon the beds of the Commissioners. But when this report came in, and clouds of dust began to arise on the distant hills, a change came upon them. Men and women sprang up, shouting that the Cheyennes were coming. Some of the Kiowa Chiefs, with disturbed faces, hurried to the Commissioners and professed their willingness to fight for them. One old individual sought our tent, and eyeing with love our keg, empty too long, observed that it was his intention to die in our defence, and that one always died better after drinking a little whiskey. Vain his entreaties! But the Arapahoes fled as if there was a pestilence among us. The Head Chief again and again shouted to his people to leave, and in ten minutes not one remained. Then, with one common impulse, the braves began to herd their ponies, scattered all over the bottom, and, that done, they drew up in a long line on the hill, just west of us and on the same side of the creek.

    The dust clouds opposite to us grew thicker and thicker. On the summit of the ridge sparkled spear-heads, gun-barrels, and the silver frontlets of hurrying ponies. Over the ridge they swept and were lost to sight in the valley. Then came, faintly borne to the listening ear, the occasional notes of a bugle, the crack of carbine or pistol, or the echo of some prolonged yell. Then was silence, while they straightened their lines and prepared for the final charge.
    The scene become dramatic, and somewhat exciting. On our right the excited Arapahoes, clustered together. On our left the Kiowas and Comanches, likewise mounted, were drawn up, awaiting results. An open bit of ground stretched out for 200 paces to the creek, and beyond it lay the timber. In front of the tents stood the Commissioners and a few attaches. Louder and louder grew the noise of the advancing warriors. Their shots were more distinctly heard and their wild shouts of "hi-ya," "hi-i-i-ya" sounded nearer. One could sometimes catch a glance through the timber, but in a minute afterwards one of the five divisions broke through woods, and came down to the creek on our extreme right and not far from the disturbed Arapahoes. They swung around, the left of their division resting on the stream, and a second, a third, a fourth, and a fifth band came racing in, fronting us on the opposite side of the drink. They came racing through the wood, singing their mad, unintelligible songs of joy, brandishing their lances, and inciting their horses to their utmost speed.
    Then on their left a bugle blew, and all five divisions, presenting as regular a front as any regular cavalry, still singing, with bows strung, firing their pistols, shaking their lances, dashed into the stream, splashing its silvery waters up to their horses breasts, stopping not for the deep sands [unreadable] but swung headlong up to where the Commissioners awaited them. Thus crossing the river, they formed a singularly imposing front. There were five hundred warriors, the splendor of the Cheyenne nation, fully equipped for war, their horses richly caparisoned, and they themselves clad in light or dark blue overcoats, but with a sufficient display of red cloth and silver ornaments to make a dazzling appearance. Both of their flanks were bent around, forming a semi-circle which almost enclosed our camp. A few soldiers were visible in front, in order to keep back interlopers. The remainder, out of sight, stood by their arms, and were prepared for a possible emergency.
    For there were some weak-kneed brethren who had long entertained doubts, and who felt very uncertain in mind when these rulers of the prairie, with barbaric shouts, and fully prepared for war, charged into our midst. It was a splendid sight, but there were a few chances that it might have been an unpleasant one. They could, by one dash, have cleaned out the commission and all connected with it. They halted, however, a few paces from the tent, and the Commissioners advanced and shook hands with the Chiefs, who had taken up their position in the centre. There was a general shaking of hands, and the beeves [sic] and coffee were ordered for them, and they returned to their camp on the south side of the river.
    In the afternoon a number of the Chiefs came over, squatted down, and were treated to coffee and hard bread. They said that no time would be consumed in treating, that they had made peace before they came in, and that they were ready to treat on the morrow. By this time the alarm had pretty much subsided, and stray pistol shots no longer frightened.
    The superiority of the Cheyennes is shown in every way--in the dash and bravery of their warriors, and in their fine appearance. They are divided up at present into various small bands, all following Chiefs who have fought their way up from the ranks. There were once three Head Chiefs, but one was killed at Sand Creek and the two others probably do not exert very much influence. "Roman Nose" and the "Black-White-Man" did not make their appearance on Sunday.
    At a pretty early hour in the morning the Cheyennes, decked in all their bravery, began to assemble and seated themselves on the ground in front of the tent occupied by the Commissioners. The Arapahoe Chiefs, occupied the extreme right of the semi-circle. Behind these sitting Chiefs was a dense crowd of warriors on horseback.
    The army officers came in, eager to hear what their old opponents were about to say. They smoked, talked to one another, and seemed in no haste to begin.
    The Council was called to order. Both tribes were told of the gladness of the commission to meet them, and that the council Chief, Henderson would deliver the speech to them.

    Senator Henderson began by saying that the Commission had come among them to determine the most important question in human affairs, that of peace or war. Three were appointed by the Great Father and four by the Great Council. Two months before, at the mouth of the Little Arkansas, peace had been made with them, and the makers had wished it to last forever; but bad men on one or the other side had broken that peace. It was believed that falsehoods had been brought to the whites about their feelings and intentions. No doubt falsehoods had been carried to them in reference to the feelings and intentions of the whites. Among the whites there were wicked people who hate the red men, and wished to profit by the calamities of both sects. Those bad men continually sought war. They told them lies to excite them, and in the same way imposed upon the whites. The commission now thought that those bad men had told lies to General Hancock, and caused him to march against the Indians in the spring.
    The great council and Great Father asked Hancock to explain why he marched, and he replied that the Indians had broken the treaty of Little Arkansas, and that they had committed many outrages on the whites before he began his march. Some said that General Hancock was right; some that he was wrong. Some said the Indians wanted war, and proposed to send soldiers against them, enough to cover the Plains like grass. Others said that Peace Commissioners and not soldiers should be sent to talk with them. Those who wanted Commissioners were in the majority. Hence, he and those for whom he spoke, were there. The Commissioners were ready to hear their complaints and take them to Washington, where the Council would redress them. They did not want war but would accept it, if they could not get an honorable peace. Some of the bad whites mocked and scoffed at them because they wanted peace with the red man. Perhaps some of the Indian young men, with more blood than brains, or who would steal a horse at the expense of the blood of the nation would oppose peace. [Laughter.] Such men on both sides must be cast away; their counsels were black with death. Why should they war against each other? The world was large enough for them all. Peace caused happiness, and war brought sorrow to the lodge of the red man and the house of the white. War, long continued, must end in the total destruction of the Indian, because his numbers are less. So long as the buffalo range on the plains and we are at peace, the whites will be willing that you should chase them as provided for by the treaty of the Little Arkansas. But the herds are becoming fewer and thinner every year. You can see that for yourselves, and should therefore prepare for the day when they will be gone. When it comes the commission wants you to be prepared to live. In lieu of the buffalo you must have sheep and oxen like the whites. In order to have them you must at once select a good reservation before the whites settle up all the land. The commission will help you in the selection, and pledge their own words and the honor of the Great Father that it shall be kept sacred for you. On it a house will be built to receive the clothing and goods annually sent you. The agents should live among you and hear your complaints. At the same place they would have their trading houses, a physician and a farmer; a mill to grind corn, and teachers to educate their children, would be sent them. The Great Father would yearly send them such goods as they needed. In return for that it was only asked that railroads should not be molested, that white settlers should be permitted to live in peace, that stage coaches and ox and mule trains on the Cimarone and other roads, might pass without attack. In other words, a firm and lasting peace was proposed. The commission wanted both sides to be friends forever. If a white broke the peace they should tell the Agent, who would punish the offender and right the wrong. If any of their people broke the peace they should deliver him up to their Agent to be punished according to the laws of the Great Council. If innocent, no harm would be done him. When the new peace was written down, each side must trust the other, as friends. Suspicion must be cast aside, and each defend the other from harm. The commission awaited their reply.
    The speech was very well received.
    The Cheyennes said they would prefer to have the Arapahoes, who had been at peace, speak first.

    "Little Raven," the head Arapahoe Chief, turning to the Cheyenne said that he was happy to see his Cheyenne friends there. He had waited long for them, and hoped they would make peace. They had always waged war with the Utes, and he had aided them, since he looked upon them as if they were his own people. But it was bitter for him to aid them against the whites. He was glad that all their young men were there. The whites should be their friends. He asked of them that peace should be made and quiet continue. He was a friend to the Cheyennes, and he loved them as he did his own people. He had understood they were indignant because he had sheltered whites in his camps. If he could not he would not be the master in his own village. Would they be dictated to about the affairs of their own villages? If they went to war with the Utes he would protect them and go with them; but if they went to war with the whites he could not. They were not children, but men, and should not be offended at such trifling things. They should labor for peace and endeavor to keep out of troubles with the whites, which could not but involve his people.
    Then, addressing himself to the Commissioners, he spoke of those of them who were present at the council on the Little Arkansas--Sanborn and Harney--and said that the agreement there made his tribe had kept sacred ever since. The Cheyennes were like his own flesh. He had lived with them. He felt that he was concerned in what they did, so near were they to him. He had heard the Senator's speech and believed it true, and that peace would result. He wanted the Commissioners especially to talk to all the people at the posts on the road, and advise them to behave themselves. He wanted the President to know all he said, and have his words preserved. If the whites did what was right all would be right. His people would consider how wrong it was to be bad, and do the best they could hereafter. He had tried his best to assist the whites since Colonel Murphy came, and had sent runners to other tribes. He would watch the motions of the whites, and would not molest them unless they molested his people. If they did not, all would be right. He was happy to think the Commissioners were successful in peace-making, and hoped they would go back to the States and tell the good news. His friends had taken much stock, but he was glad it had not been spoken of. It was wise. He was well pleased with what was said in regard to the buffalo and a reservation. The idea of house building they did not like, but he supposed that was for the future. Everything the commission had said he hoped would be kept. It was his sole request. The whites had driven them from their mineral lands and cut off the timber. Yet they remained quiet. They had no right to speak about this country. It belonged to the Southern tribes. He had been driven over there and wanted a reserve near Fort Lyon. Next spring he would go south and try to buy stock from the Southern people, and in the summer go north and try to get the Arapahoes and Cheyennes to settle down. His people would have gone down in the States to look for the whites to make peace. But he was glad the whites had come to them to talk of peace. He should follow the road of the whites. If it was a bad one, he could not tell what the result would be. When the annuities or provisions were sent out in winter, they should send out guns and ammunition to show their good faith, not that he doubted it, but that it would strengthen the wavering among his people, who were not quite firm at heart. He wanted a reservation in his old country, near Fort Lyon, where the trading house should be, and where no whites should molest him. There should be no trouble. He understood the railroad was to run through, but it would not be molested. Near the fort he wanted the agent, storehouses, etc. He himself and men of his age might be dead before the tribe settled down, but the young men now growing up were the ones that would farm. He wanted them taken care of and not imposed on. If he was mixed up with the other tribes, the young men would get in trouble. He wanted no complications with other Indians, but to live at peace with the whites. He wanted to know when the guns and ammunition mentioned, would come and how much of it there would be. The only way to show true faith in Indians was to give them arms. Otherwise there would be doubt. He wanted a trader in his village during the winter--an honest one. He believed the traders caused all the difficulties, and wanted the Commissioners to caution those who were going out that winter to mind their own business. He believed them dishonest. They charged too much for their own goods, and allowed too little for those of the Indians.

    "Buffalo Chief," a Cheyenne, came out from the rest, beckoned Senator Henderson to sit down in the sun, and then, holding him by the hand, asked if it was as he said. Was he from Washington where the Great Father lives? Did he come to bring peace?
    The Senator solemnly said that he did.
    That day, continued he, the Cheyennes took the whites by the hand, and each greeted the other. The Commissioners were the representatives of a large nation--he the representative of a small one. Behind them there were soldiers. Behind him his warriors. But it was understood that both agreed to peace. That day the Senator had spoke about the railroad. They were willing--they submited to the proposition; but they would all own the country together--the Cheyenne should still hunt there. He believed they were sent there by the President and that they were honest in what they said. He, speaking for his nation, was honest in what he said. His people wanted no houses. They sprang up on these prairies, and there they preferred to live, rejecting houses, or anything in the shape of civilization. They were willing to take their chances on the future. The country south of the Arkansas they did not claim--they had no right to it. The country they claimed and had a just right to, was that north of the Arkansas, and they wanted to be allowed the privilege and liberty of roaming over that country as it might suit them, from the Arkansas to the South Fork of the Platte.
    He preferred to have their future left to themselves. They depended on their own exertions. When the time came that they needed help, they would talk about it. As yet they would take the chances. The Cheyennes shook hands in good faith. It would be better for all if the troops left the country north of the Arkansas and that they could roam where the bones of their forefathers were lying. The commission might think the goods and presents sent benefited them. Some of them knew it was a mistake and knew it was a loss. They had rather be back in their wild state than there with all their presents learning wants they never knew before.
    Here he dropped the hand of the Senator, which he had been holding all the time, and seizing Mr. Butterfield, said:
    The young men of the Cheyenne nation wanted him to be their trader, and to be allowed to sell them arms and ammunition.
    Here he closed, and one old fellow to the rear began a long speech in a very excited tone, stating that the Kiowas and Comanches had falsely said the Cheyennes would not come in, and had in other ways, belied them to the great shame and dishonor of said tribes.

    The speeches of the Cheyennes showed plainly that they would not be forced to go on reserves or abandon their privilege of hunting in the country between the Platte and the Arkansas. They showed, I think, that they have great confidence in themselves and are nowise afraid of the power of the whites.
    The moment the speaking was over they began to scatter--most of them moving over to where their goods were. The Senator took the interpreter and explained to the Indians the obnoxious treaty clauses; how they were not required to go on a reserve at once, and how the object was to get the land for them to be used at some future time. Finally "Bull Bear" signed the treaty with "Gray Head," "Tall Bull," "Black Kettle," "Little Rock," "Slim Face," "Buffalo Chief," "Spotted Elk," "Little Bear," "White Horse," and "Little Robe," who at first refused to sign out of a purely personal feeling of spite. He had signed first at the Little Arkansas, and had been scolded for his part in that treaty. The Arapahoe Chiefs also signed the same treaty.
    The course of the Cheyennes has been exemplary throughout. General Hancock made war against them on account of acts which it now honestly appears they never committed. Thus provoked, they went to war. They have lost by units and the whites by hundreds. The whites sent after them to make peace, and the Cheyennes, after finishing their religious ceremonies, met the Commissioners.
    The Cheyennes, fairly victors, and regarding themselves as such, stated their terms. They would allow the building of the Smoky Hill Road, but they were not to be interfered with, so far as the game was concerned. They would permit the government to set apart a reserve, but they would not occupy it. They would accept presents, though they felt it weakened them.
    How long will this treaty, which accomplishes so little, last? Until spring, probably. It is doubtful whether it will endure longer. Nor is this unsatisfactory result the fault of the commission. Far from it. They have done all humanly possible, but against the invincible obstinacy of a successful Indian every will must give way. Either this, or worse than nothing. The Commissioners described, argued, explained. In vain. The result is, that things remain much as they were.
    Some of the Cheyenne Chiefs met afterwards and had a semi-official talk with the Commissioners. They declined to go to Washington until peace shall be made with the northern Cheyennes. They would be convinced that peace was made when those Indians who now range far up in the Powder River country should have come down and joined them, and thus made one grand nation. They also wanted immediate notice sent to military commanders of the peace just made. "Tall Bull" also spoke of the events preceding Hancock's blunder. He was the last Chief who spoke to that unhappy General, and, like all the other Indians who have spoken, showed the inexcusability of the General's conduct. These Cheyenne Chiefs were singularly fine looking men--splendidly framed, and with impressive, characteristic faces. They showed by every look and gesture their fitness for command. The more I see of these Cheyennes the higher opinion I have of them. They are better looking than the others; they are cleaner and more of the old Spartan fire burns in their veins. Sooner death than captivity is the motto of these warriors of the Plains.

    After the treaty business, which amounted to singularly little since certain Chiefs simply touched with a finger the end of a pen, and were thereby supposed to have signed a treaty some of them had never heard read, the distribution of annuity goods and presents was made. All arranged themselves in an immense semi-circle. In front of them were the heaps of vari-colored clothing and boxes of stores, about which stood the Indian officers, dividing out the goods among the people. In front of each band stood the sub-distributor. Each of these screamed and shouted at the top of his voice. Occasionally the women would join in, and there was an infinite Babel of sound. The ponies were lariated in the rear, and the squaws and children crowded to the front, or ran around among them. Everywhere peace and harmony. The military officers beheld unmoved United States carbines, pistols and mules in the possession of the Indians, who, in turn, showed no ill-will at the sight of the soldiers whom they had occasionally met in battle. One little thing was worth note. Hancock destroyed fully $50,000 worth of Indian property. They had on the field to-day United States property and property of settlers, &c., to the value of $200,000. Was it not an expensive blunder? Among the goods distributed were arms and ammunition. But these arms, unlike the pistols issued to Kiowas and Comanches, were of good quality. The pistols given those tribes by the Indian Bureau are utterly worthless, being made of cast iron, and generally are unable to snap a cap.

    The distribution was finished, and this horde of Indians, with their ponies and mules packed with plunder, laughing and screaming like children with their Christmas gifts, set off for their camp. We expected to go to sleep, relieved in mind that the work was over--that a peace, even though a temporary one, had been made--and rejoicing in the thought of a departure on the morrow. But those anticipations were doubly disturbed, first by the Arapahoes, who came down and had a subdued dance, and then by an outrageous wind storm which came from the north, cold and raw, and drove us out often to tighten guys and secure tent pins.
    We expect to reach Harker on Thursday, and thence to go at once to North Platte, and Laramie.

    I subjoin a summary of the treaty with the Cheyennes and Arapahoes, written by the Senator from Missouri, which succinctly shows what has been done, and what the Commissioners think has been realized:
    By the old treaty of 1851, concluded at Fort Laramie, with the Sioux, Crows, Assiniboines, Gros Ventres, Arrickarees, Mandans, Blackfeet, Bloods, Piegans, Cheyennes, Arapahoes and others, the Cheyenne and Arapahoe reservation commenced at the forks of the Platte, and continued up the North Platte to the summit of the Rocky Mountains, thence southwardly along the summit of said mountains to the Arkansas River, thence down the Arkansas to a point thereon due south of the forks of the Platte, and thence north to the place of beginning. By examining the map, it will be seen that this reservation covered the larger part of the present Territory of Colorado, a large portion of Western Kansas, and a large portion of Dakota. By the said treaty, as originally made, the United States was to pay said tribes, all combined, $50,000 per annum for fifty years. When he went to the Senate that body struck out fifty years and inserted ten years, and for a further period of five years if the President so willed it.
    By the year 1861 the gold mines of Colorado had been developed to such an extent as to make it absolutely necessary to obtain the right of the Cheyennes and Arapahoes to the land on which not only mining operations were being conducted, but even the city of Denver, and other important towns, had been built.
    Hence a treaty was concluded on the 15th of February, 1861, with the Cheyennes and Arapahoes at Fort Wise, in Kansas, by which they ceded all their lands except a small reservation lying on both sides of the Arkansas River, south and southeast of Denver, between the Purgatory River on the south, and the Sandy Fork of the Arkansas on the North. The said district includes Fort Lyon and the new post of Reynolds recently established. They deny having given their assent to this treaty.
    After the terrible massacre by Chivington at Sand Creek, in November, 1864, the Cheyennes and Arapahoes were driven east, and in October, 1865, after a most terrible, and to us disastrous and expensive war, the Commissioners, Sanborn, Harney and others, who were appointed to hunt them up and endeavor to make a peace with them, found them at the mouth of the Little Arkansas, below Fort Zarah.
    It was thought best to remove them to a reservation as far as possible from the Colorado people, who appear to be so much excited and embittered against them. The district selected for them commenced at the mouth of Red Creek, where it empties into the Arkansas River, and extending up that creek to its source, passed westwardly to the Cimarone River opposite the mouth of Buffalo Creek, which is about the meridian of Fort Larned, thence north to the Arkansas River, and then down that stream to the place of beginning. It will be observed that this reservation included about seventy miles of Southern Kansas lying between the longitude of Fort Larned on the west and the Kansas River on the east. When this treaty went to the Senate, it was amended so as to require the President to designate for said tribe a reservation, no part of which should be in the State of Kansas, and no part of it to be on other Indian lands, unless the tribes interested should consent. In said treaty 1t is stipulated that the Indians should not be required to remove to their new reservation till conflicting titles had been adjusted. Those titles have not been settled as yet. It was further stipulated that the Indians should be permitted to roam at pleasure through the unsettled portions of that part of the country they claim as originally theirs, which lies between the Arkansas and Platte Rivers. The country referred to of course, is that described by the treaty of 1851, herein before alluded to. It was further agreed to pay them an annuity of $20 per capita prior to their locating permanently on their reservation, and $10 per head after they shall have settled thereon. The two tribes were estimated at 2,800. After the treaty had been signed the Apaches were incorporated with them and received into all the benefits of their treaty, they having about seven hundred persons.
    Since General Hancock marched on the Cheyenne village in April, 1866, war has been waged by the Cheyennes in a most relentless manner. They take upon themselves the responsibility of all that has been done since, and expressly exempt all other tribes.
    The treaty just concluded leaves out the Apaches who prefer a confederation with the Kiowas and Comanches. The reservation given drops off all lands lying in Kansas and extends the southern boundary, as defined by the treaty of 1865, from Red Creek down to the Cimarone River, sometimes called the Red Fork of the Arkansas. Hence it is bounded on the east by the Arkansas River, south and west by the Cimarone, and north by Kansas, and containing eight or nine thousand square miles. It is agreed to build them an agency house and other necessary buildings for a physician, farmer, miller, school teacher, blacksmith, &c. It is also stipulated that each of them shall be given a suit of good substantial clothing each year, or the necessary materials to make it, and, in addition thereto, to expend $10,000(?) annually for their benefit in such articles as they may need.
    The Cheyennes positively refuse as yet to yield the right to hunt north of the Arkansas and south of the South Platte. They are willing to yield it whenever the buffalo leave it, but not before, unless they shall previously try to live by agriculture. They agree, however, to take the right subject to the terms of the treaty of 1865, that is to carry the permit of their agent, and to keep away ten miles from roads and forts. They withdraw all opposition to all white settlements, and agree to protect and depend [sic] white men as they would brothers. They withdraw all opposition to the Cimarone road to New Mexico, to the Smoky Hill and Platte Railroad, and all other roads. All they ask is a hunting right and they are willing that any conditions be imposed to keep the peace, but for the commission to have demanded an absolute concession of the right, would have been to continue the war.
    If white settlements drive away the buffalo, they say they will not want to hunt, but they cannot imagine why the white man would forbid their hunting in an unoccupied country filled with game. They said, give them the right to hunt, and the white man might fill up the remainder of the treaty. Whatever it might be, they would abide by it, and be his eternal friend. To the Commissioners' assertion that the game would soon be gone, they answered invariably, that when gone on account of settlements, railroads, or any other cause, they would cease to ask the privilege.

Source:

Unknown, "The Indians, The Conference of the Peace Commission with the Southwestern Tribes, The Arrival of the Cheyennes," Chicago Tribune, Chicago, Illinois, Monday, 4 November, 1867, Page 1.