"Wahlitits grew into a magnificent athlete. Long-distance runner, wrestler, breaker of wild horses bare-handed. For five winters he'd swum across the Salmon River and back every day. A red Apollo strong enough to be exceedingly mild tempered and generous, quick to deeds of charity. Wahlitits had no peers. Considering again the spark that lit the war, four things head the list: Howard's showing of the rifle at a peace treaty, and arresting Toohoolhoolzote; Larry Ott's killing of Eagle Robe; the nefarious setting of the thirty-day limit for the non–treaties to be on the reservation or lose their stock; at the very top, I suppose . . .Wahlitits' revenge. Like lancing a boil grown from years of abuse, and pus blew all over. It was the thirteenth of June, and the young men decided to stage a war parade. The rear of a column of horsemen was brought up by two warriors mounted on the same steed. A dangerous place of high honor only the bravest of all would assume, protecting the rear from attack. Wahlitits and Sarpsis Ilppilp took this position, Wahlitits riding in front. They were first cousins, or brothers in Indian idiom. Their horse inadvertently stepped on a spread canvas where the wife of Heyoom Moxmox was drying kouse roots. Severely upbraiding the two young men for riding over his woman's hard-worked food, among the things he said to Wahlitits, 'If you so brave, why not go kill the white man who killed your father!" Wahlitits was stung by this questioning of his courage. He told Heyoom Moxmox he would be sorry for his words. And Wahlitits cried after the parade, saying the reason he didn't want to kill Ott was because some tribesmen were wealthy with stock and he didn't want to see them get robbed. At any rate, Wahlitits brooded until the next morning, when he and Sarpsis Ilppilp recruited Swan Necklace to come as a horse holder, and they set out for the home of Larry Ott. Seems Ott had already taken alarm and fled to the Florence mine where he panned for gold, disguised as a Chinaman. So the three young warriors went on to Richard Devine's, an elderly man living alone. He'd earned Nez Perce hatred for horribly murdering a cripple named Dakoopin, who'd made the mistake of asking Devine for food. He was also fond of setting his vicious dogs on any passing Indians, and threatening them with his rifle. With that very rifle Devine was killed. Then there was Henry Elfers. And over the next few days,more desperate young men robbed of home and future stirred in with stolen whisky, and there were even outrages against white women and children. Vile, white-hot pus was blasting all over from that boil growing all those years.Three days of carnage, reprisal killings with no harm ever done to whites who'd been good to Indians. Estimates of the number killed range from fourteen to twenty two. Three days of carnage to avenge a quarter century of abuse. I still thought there might be some way to negotiate peace. Ollokot and I pleaded with people, but they would not stay. Soon the only tepees left at Tepahlewam were mine and Ollokot's. My wife was ready to give birth. Warriors watched our tepees closely, suspicious that we might move to the reservation. We continued to plead against fighting. But the next morning, we rejoined all our people, and fled to White Bird Canyon, where my daughter was born. When General Howard got news of his war, he dispatched two cavalry companies to protect the terrified settlers from further hostilities. Captain Perry led the cavalry. Ninety-nine men, they rode all night, reaching Grangeville the next evening, where Perry learned we were camped at White Bird Canyon. A boisterous white named Ad Chapman swayed Perry into going for an early-morning surprise attack to crush the 'cowardly Injuns' before they could get away. This, instead of halting back at Mt. Idaho to protect the settlers. Gung-ho citizen volunteers upped Perry's force to 120. They rode all night again, approaching White Bird Canyon before dawn. Our scouts had been watching the soldiers closely since before Grangeville, so the element of surprise was long gone. Warrior Chief Ollokot commanded that nobody fire a shot unless fired upon first. We sent out a peace party, six men under a white flag. Under his big white hat, mounted on his white horse, blowhard Ad Chapman fired at the peace party, and the battle commenced. The soldiers were poor shots. Not one of their bullets found an Indian. Plus, most everything they did screamed of incompetence and overconfidence, then cowardice. Ourvery first shot killed their bugler. The cavalry soon became a mob of screaming and crying men without directions. Many were thrown from turning saddles and running for their lives. They hadn't even taken time to cinch their saddles after the long ride. If not for the abundant whisky our warriors stole in the raids, it's unlikely any of the soldiers or volunteers would've survived. I had to take to the battle myself because we had so few warriors not drunk or sick. First combat of my life, and it ended so quickly it all seemed surreal. Except Ad Chapman. He'd boasted he could whip the cowardly Injuns all by himself. He'd been in the lead when we sent out our peace party, fired the first shot. Well, there he was way out ahead in his big white hat on his big white horse, leading the retreat."

"A born leader of men."