‘Be careful, Wahonkeza [Walsh's Sioux name],’ Sitting Bull replied. ‘You’re talking to the head of the mighty Sioux Nation.’

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‘I know who I’m talking to. What I said still stands. And if there’s any more horse stealing, I’ll put irons on you, too!’

Sitting Bull fumed. Shaking a finger at Walsh, he said, ‘No man can talk to me like that!’ He reached for a revolver on his belt, but Walsh grabbed him and threw him out of the cabin. Sitting Bull landed on the ground. When he tried to get up, Walsh kicked him in the buttocks.

Furious, Sitting Bull climbed to his feet, again reaching for his revolver, but one of the other chiefs grabbed and restrained him. After a struggle, Sitting Bull tired and slumped to the ground, and the other chief released him. A moment later the Hunkpapa chief got up and stalked away.

Walsh ran over to the adjacent barracks. ‘Get ready, men,’ he shouted. ‘There may be trouble.’ Mounties tumbled out of the barracks, holding their rifles at the ready, and formed themselves into a line behind him. Up the street, the Indians gathered in a noisy mob in front of the trading post. A few minutes later they headed toward the Mounted Police post, Sitting Bull leading them on his cream-colored pony. Walsh ordered Morin to pull out two long poles from the hay corral and lay them on the ground out in front of the post. ‘Tell them not to cross those poles. The first one who does will be sorry.’ When the oncoming Sioux got closer, Morin shouted Walsh’s warning to them.

Sitting Bull’s smoldering eyes were locked onto Walsh as he rode toward him. Walsh stood in front of his men, staring back at the Sioux chief. Then, just before he reached the poles on the ground, Sitting Bull yanked on his pony’s reins. The pony stopped suddenly. Sitting Bull’s Sioux bunched up behind him. Walsh and Sitting Bull continued staring back at each other. Finally, Sitting Bull wheeled his pony and rode off. In small bunches the others did the same, heading toward their camp.

Sitting Bull had been poised to stab his dagger into the hearts of the White Mother’s redcoats, but in the end he could not do it. Walsh was the only white man to stand before him–practically alone–and defy him, but Walsh was also the only white man he could trust, the only white man he could rely on.

The Sioux slipped back across the border from time to time, not to make war on the Americans but to hunt buffalo. On July 17, 1879, a hunting party that included Sitting Bull ventured south of the Milk River and exchanged shots with Bear Coat Miles’ soldiers and Crow scouts. Sitting Bull was said to have bested Magpie, one of the Crows, after being challenged to personal combat during the battle. Miles’ howitzers eventually forced the Sioux to withdraw to defensive positions north of the border. This skirmish near the Milk River strengthened Sitting Bull’s resolve not to surrender to the Army. He was convinced they were waiting for him to do so and would then punish him for what had happened at the Little Bighorn. But empty bellies rumbled loudly, and many Sioux eyes turned southward. In early August, Sitting Bull told Walsh that he would take his warriors back across the line to meet Miles’ soldiers in battle, adding that none of his soldiers would live to tell the tale. Walsh took this to be a mere boast, but he told Sitting Bull that such an action would be unwise, for eventually he must return to his own country, that the Americans would not forgive any more casualties among their soldiers.

Continuing slaughter of the buffalo herds in the United States by both Indians and whites had reduced their numbers to such an extent by 1878 that the large herds were no longer migrating north; only small scattered herds crossed the border. Not only the Sioux but also Canadian Indians were close to starving. The Canadian government was obliged by various treaties to feed its own Indians, but it had no such obligation to the Sioux. Despite the reluctance of most Sioux to put themselves at the mercy of the American government, the thought that food might be more readily obtainable drove small bands of them (about 200 to 300 lodges) back over the medicine line in July 1879 to surrender to military authorities at Fort Keogh, at the mouth of the Tongue River on the Yellowstone. In November, 25 more lodges returned. Others watched from the safety of Canadian soil and followed when they were assured their brothers were being treated reasonably. By the summer of 1880, an estimated 3,700 Sioux had returned to their own country. Sitting Bull, though, was a holdout, still refusing to trust the Americans.

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