Two Sticks then raised both hands and sang his death song, which was not very musical but fervent and impressive. He had a very strong voice with a melodious tone. The song — a strange affair to those not familiar with the language and sentiment — meant that his heart was good toward God and everybody and that God must take him when he died. He was permitted to go on for a few minutes and became so enthusiastic that Father Digmann had to quiet him. The condemned chief grasped the priest’s hand and said he was a good man, adding that his attorney and the marshal had been good to him and had done all they could. He removed an old red handkerchief from around his head and was assisted in putting on his coat.

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A number of leather straps lay on a nearby chair. Two Sticks quickly snatched up a strap, put the end through the buckle, and slipped it over his head. At first he tightened the noose around his neck with violent jerks. Then, looking for help, he handed the end through the bars of a cell occupied by another Indian, Eagle Louse. The white men present came to pull away the strap. But while the strap was still around his neck, Two Sticks gave it several more hard jerks. Finally the strap was removed, and Father Digmann told the chief that God would want him to be resigned to his fate and have a good heart. Two Sticks said he was only trying to make sure that if he had to die, he would be put to death by his own people, not the white men. He added that his heart had gone bad just for a minute, but he was sorry. After that he was calm and cool, if not in a happy mood.

His hands were tied behind him, and the march to his death began. He walked with a firm, steady step, smiled and insisted on shaking hands with everybody who stood near enough. Upon entering the gate of the enclosure he caught sight of the gallows and said ‘washta you bet,’ meaning ‘good you bet.’

After ascending the steps to the platform, he was placed on the 3-foot-square trapdoor and Father Digmann read a prayer. Two Sticks’ head was bowed, and he nodded his approval of the prayer. Then he raised his head and in a loud voice sang the death song again. As the noose was adjusted around his neck, Two Sticks stood steady and exhibited remarkable nerve. His only appearance of emotion was a slight flush when the noose was drawn up. The black cap was pulled over his head. After a slight pause there came a grating sound, a bang and then a thud. Two Sticks dropped 7 feet, 4 inches. His neck was dislocated, and death was instantaneous. He fell straight and did not swing. There was scarcely a movement for several minutes before two or three muscular contractions drew the legs up and raised the shoulders. He was allowed to hang 15 minutes before being pronounced dead by four local doctors. The body of Two Sticks was placed in a coffin and taken to the undertaking establishment of S.B. Smith. Marshal Peemiller and his deputies were congratulated for a job well done.

Two Sticks’ blue cloth leggings and a photograph of himself were left to his wife; his old red-cotton handkerchief to his attorney; his old white felt hat to a Sheriff Remer; and his sacred pipe to Alex Bertrand, the friendly warden at the jail. More than 100 years later, the incident was once more in the news. In October 1998 at a special repatriation ceremony at the Adams Museum in Deadwood, the cannumpa (’sacred pipe’), which had been stored in the museum’s vault, was removed and returned to Two Sticks’ family.

This article was written by G. Sam Carr and originally appeared in the June 2001 issue of Wild West.

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