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Updated: May 19, 2025
Among them all, no one seemed so overwhelmed with affliction as Elizabeth, our poor Cut-Nose. When we first told her of our intention, she sat for hours in the same spot, wiping away the tears that would find their way down her cheeks, with the corner of the chintz shawl she wore pinned across her bosom. "No! I never, never, never shall I find such friends again," she would exclaim.
Edward Rose had been his name, when young; but now he was a wrinkled, stout old man, called Cut-nose, and looked like a crinkly-headed Indian. "The Crows are losing too many warriors. They have no stomach for that kind of work," answered the old squaw-man. The Crow chiefs and braves were seated in a circle, near the cedars, and listening to the speakers who stood up, one after another.
Cut-nose, having learned that I had killed his son sent a white interpreter to me with a message to the effect that he would give me four mules if I would turn over to him Yellow Hand's war-bonnet, guns, pistols, ornaments, and other paraphernalia which I had captured. I sent back word to the old gentleman that it would give me pleasure to accommodate him, but I could not do it this time.
While at the agency I learned the name of the Indian Chief whom I had killed in the morning; it was Yellow Hand; a son of old Cut-nose a leading chief of the Cheyennes.
Forward they charged in howling masses but the bullets and arrows pelted them thickly, more warriors fell they scattered and ran away. The Blackfeet hooted them. This made old Cut-nose mad. He hastened out to where the Crows were collected in doubt what next to do, and climbed upon a rock, that they all might see him. "Listen!" he shouted.
It was always a joyful announcement when, looking out over the Portage road, somebody called out, "The Cut-Nose is coming!" In time, however, we learned to call her by her baptismal name of Elizabeth, for she, too, was one of Mr. Mazzuchelli's converts. She came one day, accompanied by a half-grown boy, carrying a young fawn she had brought me as a present.
Cut-nose and Twisted-hair seem now perfectly reconciled, for they both slept in the house of the latter. The man who had imposed himself upon us as a brother of Twisted-hair also came and renewed his advances, but we now found that he was an impertinent, proud fellow, of no respectability in the nation, and we therefore felt no inclination to cultivate his intimacy.
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