78 HISTOKY OF GOODHUE COUNTY come to an agreement in regard to the treaty, there would be no trouble about the back money. In regard to the medal, which is known in history as the bloody medal, owing to the Leaf Shoot- er's poetic and figurative allusion to its ensanguined condition, Governor Ramsey said that he had demanded from the president that $1,000 should be taken from the annuities of the Sacs and Foxes and used as an emollient to cleanse the blood from the medal; and that $1,000 should be taken from the Sac and Fox fund for every Sioux killed by them, and the amount turned over to the relatives of the victims. He further said that in the exer- cise of his discretion, the president had concluded that the money he was keeping ought to be expended in the education of the Indian children, but that the matter could be settled amicably if the treaty were speedily signed. The next day a brief council was held under Alexis Bailly's large brush arbor, which had been well appointed with stands, tables and seats for the chiefs. At this session, Wabasha, without comment, returned a draft of the treaty which on the previous day had been presented to the Indians for their consideration. There was an embarrassing silence for a time, and Colonel Lea said he hoped the treaty would soon be concluded, for he was at a great distance from his home, and having been a long time away, was most anxious to return. Chief Wacoota replied: "Our habits are different from those of the whites, and when we have anything important to consider it takes us a long time. To this diplomatic remark, Colonel Lea rejoined: "That is true; but this subject has been before you a long time. You are chiefs, not women and children ; you can certainly 'give us an answer tomorrow." The council then adjourned for the day. The next day, at the opening of the council, AVabasha arose and said he had listened to the words sent them by the Great Father and which the commissioners had delivered; "but," con- tinued he, "these other chiefs around me may have something to say also. I will sit and listen to what is said." After a long, constrained, and doubtless uncomfortable silence, Little Crow, graceful and deliberate, arose, and addressed the council. Little Crow, chief of the Kaposia band, was, without doubt, according to the evidence of his contemporaries, the brainiest, shrewdest and most influential Indian then west of the Mississippi. Dressed elaborately for the occasion, with a white shirt and collar, a gaudy neckchief, his tastefully embroidered medicine bag sus- pended from his neck, a red belt, with a silver buckle, about his waist, and wearing a pair of elaborately beaded trousers and moccasins, his long, black, curling hair, soft and almost as silken as a white woman's, flowing over his shoulders, and with his keen black eyes alight — he was indeed a striking and attractive fig-
