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[475] of these Indians to be formed, he commissioned Albert Pike,1 a poet of some pretensions, who was a native of New England, but had long resided in Arkansas, to make a treaty with them to that effect. Pike went into the Indian country, where he met them in council. He succeeded with the less civilized Choctaws and Chickasaws, and by virtue of a treaty made with them, they were entitled to the privilege of having two of their number occupy seats as delegates in the “Congress” of the conspirators at Montgomery. Two regiments of these Indians were raised, and, under Pike, who was commissioned a brigadier-general, they joined

Albert Pike.

the army of the conspirators. A third regiment was organized before the close of 1861. We shall meet Pike and his dusky followers hereafter, among the Ozark Mountains.

The Cherokees and Creeks were not so easily moved. The venerable John Ross, who for almost forty years had been the principal Chief of the Cherokees, took a decided stand against the secessionists, and resisted them so long as he had the power. On the 17th of May

1861.
he issued a proclamation, in which he reminded his people of their treaty obligations to the United States, and urged them to be faithful in the observance of them. He exhorted them to take no part in the exciting

Fort Smith, Arkansas.

events of the day, but to attend to their ordinary avocations; and not to be alarmed by false reports circulated among them by designing men, but to cultivate peace and friendship with the inhabitants of all the States. He

1 Pike was a remarkable man. He was a native of Boston, and was then fifty-one years of age, with long gray flowing locks. He dressed himself in gaudy costume and wore an immense plume to please the Indians. He seems to have gone into the rebellion heartily, forgetful of the warnings of his own remarkable prophecy, which he put in the following words, toward the close of a poem entitled Dissolution of the Union, written before the war. After describing civil war and its effects, he says to the deceived people:--

Where are your leaders? Where are they who led
     Your souls into the perilous abyss?
The bravest and the best are lying dead,
     Shrouded in treason and dark perjuries:
The most of them have basely from you fled,
     Followed by Scorn's unending, general hiss;
Fled into lands that Liberty disowns,
     Encrouched within the shadow of tall thrones.

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