But I have always held that in such a country as America the march of
civilization was inevitable, and that sooner or later the men who lived
in roving tribes, making no real use of the resources of the country,
would be compelled to give way before the men who tilled the soil and
used the lands as the Creator intended they should be used.
In my dealings with the Indians we always understood each other. In a
fight we did our best to kill each other. In times of peace we were
friends. I could always do more with the Indians than most white men,
and I think my success in getting so many of them to travel with my
organization was because I understood them and they understood me.
Shrewd as were the generals who conducted the fight against the
Indians, I believe they could have done little without the services of
the men who all over the West served them in the capacity of scouts.
The adventures of small scouting parties were at times even more
thrilling than the battles between the Indians and the troops.
Among the ablest of the scouts I worked with in the West were Frank
Grouard and Baptiste Pourier. At one time in his childhood Grouard was
to all intents and purposes a Sioux Indian. He lived with the tribe,
hunted and fought with them, and wore the breech-clout as his only
summer garment.
He met some hunters and trappers while living this life.
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