There were many mixed bloods among these Sioux, and some of
the Indians held that these were accomplices of the white people in
robbing them of their possessions, therefore their lives should not
be spared. My father, Many Lightnings, who was practically the
leader of the Mankato band (for Mankato, the chief, was a weak
man), fought desperately for the lives of the half-breeds and the
missionaries. The chiefs had great confidence in my father, yet
they would not commit themselves, since their braves were clamoring
for blood. Little Crow had been accused of all the misfortunes of
his tribe, and he now hoped by leading them against the whites to
regain his prestige with his people, and a part at least of their
lost domain.

There were moments when the pacifists were in grave peril. It
was almost daybreak when my father saw that the approaching
calamity could not be prevented. He and two others said to Little
Crow: "If you want war, you must personally lead your men
to-morrow. We will not murder women and children, but we will
fight the soldiers when they come." They then left the council and
hastened to warn my brother-in-law, Faribault, and others who were
in danger.

Little Crow declared he would be seen in the front of every
battle, and it is true that he was foremost in all the succeeding
bloodshed, urging his warriors to spare none. He ordered his war
leader, Many Hail, to fire the first shot, killing the trader James
Lynd, in the door of his store.

After a year of fighting in which he had met with defeat, the