PHOTOGRAPHED BY TRONE, SHERIDAN, WYo.
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THE
LIFE AND ADVENTURES
OF
FRANK GROUARD,
Chief of Scouts, U. S. A.,
BY
JOE, DE BARTHE.
ILLUs fix ATED.
ST. JOSEPH, MO.
COMBE PRINTING COMPANY.,
315 and 317 Felix St.
TO THE
JOURNALISTS OF AMERICA
THIS VOLUME
|S AFFECTIONATELY
subscribed)
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1894 by Joe De Barthe,
in the office of the Librarian of Congress
at Washington.
s
CONTENTS.
PART FIRST.
Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER I.
Family History—Ancestry—Birth and Boyhood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER II.
“The Silent Man of the Plains.”—Some Curious Errors—From the Village
of the Redman to the Camp of the Frontier Army..... . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER III.
Preliminary Observations—Recalling the causes of the Indian Troubles,
the Phil Kearney Massacre and the Black Hills Stampede. . . . . .
CIIAPTER IV.
Grouard’s Own Story—Starts Out as a Mule Skinner, and Goes to Helena,
in 1865—Some Characteristic Incidents. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER W.
The Helena, Flour Famine—How One Man Made a Fortune—Plenty of Gold,
but Nothing to Eat... . . . . . . . . . . . . . ........... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ......
CHAPTER WI.
“Liver Eating Johnson’’—The Montana Militia—Establishing the Pony
Express from Musselshell to Forts Peck and Hall—Captured by the
Blackfeet—An Awful Experience. . . . . . . . . . x - - - - - - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER VII.
Grouard’s First Indian Fight—Giving Assistance to the Besieged Wood-
Qhoppers—Eleven" Good" Redskins........ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
PAGE.
13-19
21-26
27–34
35-57
65–66
Wi CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VIII.
Captured by the Sioux—Sitting Bull Gives an Evidence of Good Intentions
—A Hard Trip to the Indian Village...........
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER IX.
Taken to the Hostile Camp—Silence of the Captors—Grouard's SecondſMeet-
ing with Sitting Bull—The Great Chief's Notable Speech. Before the
Council, and Its Effect .....................................
CIIAPTER X.
The Kindness of White Cow—Attacked by a Strange Sickness—Visions of
Bread—The Realization..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XI.
Grouard Makes a Ten-Strike—The Old Flint-lock Does Noble Execution
and Astonishes the Natives—The Beginning of a New Life for the
Captive. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
* * * * * *
CHAPTER XII.
Indian Courtship—Some of the Means Employed to Secure a Life Partner
—Possession not Always Ownership. . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XIII.
Sitting Bull Leads a Desperate Charge—How a Band of Crow Horse Thieves
Were Driven Into the Rocks and Slaughtered—The Courage of the
Uncapapa Chief..................
CHAPTER XIV.
An Indian Jambouree—The “Invisible Spirit of Wine”—Everybody Drunk,
and Murder the Order of the Day—Grouard Seeks Safety in Flight
—Mourning for the Slain—A Harrowing Recital. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XV.
Sitting Bull Tries to Kill Grouard—The Captive's Endeavor to Bring the
Halfbreed Miscreant to Justice—His Trip to Frenchman Creek and
Its Besult. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XVI.
Sees Custer and Hears “Garryowen ‘’—Grouard Witnesses a Fight Between
the Troops and Indians, and Has a Narrow Escape from Death....
PAGE.
75-77
78-84
85-88
89-94
95-102
. 103-105
106-108
109-113
114-116
CONTENT'S.
Wii
*/
CHAPTE R XVII.
Grouard Meets Crazy Horse—Leaves the Village of the Uncapapas and
Begins Life In the Village of the Ogallalas—Something About Crazy
Horse and His Family. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XVIII.
Torturing the Captive—The Manner in Which the Indians Proved Grou-
ard’s Nerve—Four Hours of Unceasing Pain—Pronounced “Good
Medicine.”
g is s º is tº gº s ºr e º s a tº e º is e º is a e º ſº tº $ tº s a s ſº s e º º is ºf s s s º e º s º º sº º s & © & & e º 'º º º tº $ a º
CHAPTE R XIX.
In a Rattlesnake Den—An Experience Grouard Remembered Vividly and
Often Dreamed of Afterward—Millions of Reptiles
CHAPTER XX.
Indian Characteristics and Customs—Many of the Aborigine's Traits of
Character, and Something About His Religion—Ceremonials. . . . . . e
CEIAPTER XXI.
Saved by a Pony—Strayed from the Band and Nearly Cut Off by Marauding
Crows—A Number of the Sioux Hunting Party Killed During a
Buffalo Hunt
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER XXII.
Establishing a Reputation—Grouard Goes on a Hunt and Saves the Village
from Starvation—Slaughtering Elk by the Score.......... . . . . . . . . . .
CEIAPTER XXIII.
“The Way of the Transgressor’—Breaking a Law of the Council and Nar-
rowly Escaping Death in Consequence—Safety Found in a Narrow
Washout . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ............
CHAPTER XXIV.
Factional Differences—How an Old Feud Started a Murderous Row in the
Village of the Minneconjoux—Sitting Bull Acts as Peacemaker and
Stea)s His OWn Ponies. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXV.
Fasting for Eight Days—One of the Very Worst Experiences Grouard Had
While in Captivity—Two of His Indian Companions Die After
Reaching Camp..............
PAGE.
117-118
119-123
124-126
127-148
149-151
. 152-155
156-158
159-162
. 163-166
viii ~ CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Massacre of the Gros Ventres—An Entire Village Wiped Out by the Black-
feet. Their Bodies Left for the Wolves to Prey Upon.................
CHAPTER XXVII.
One Way of Cooking Meat—Grouard Takes His First Lesson in Indian
Cooking-Shooting Life and Light Into the Sun......................
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Grouard Regains His Freedom—He Joins a Raiding Party and Steals His
Way to the Red Cloud Agency—His Efforts to Aid the Making of the
Black Hills Treaty. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ...........
CHAPTER XXIX.
Grouard Meets Gen. Crook and Accepts an Offer to Enter the Government
Service . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXX.
Looking for Indians—The Spring Campaign of 1876—Leading Crook's Com-
mand Into the Indian Fastnesses—Finding the First Hostile Village
CHAPTER XXXI.
The Battle with Crazy Horse—Crook’s Order's Disobeyed—Destroying
Enough Provisions to Supply a Large Army—Suffering of the Troops
-Crook's Anger... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXXII.
Close of the Spring Campaign—How the Indians Compute Distances—Re-
shaw's Jealousy of Grouard's Knowledge of the Indians—Starting
Scandalous Stories. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Working Off Bile—Grouard Attends a Halfbreed Dance—Big Bat Gives Evi-
dence of His Friendship and a Knowledge of Fisticuffs......... . . . .
CHAPTE R XXXIV.
In a Tight Place–Surrounded by Hostiles and Outwitting Them—Dummies
Used to Good Advantage........................................... . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXXV.
Through the Hostile Country—Shooting a Herder—Accidental Shooting of
a Soldier... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
PAGE.
167-168
169-171
. 172-176
177-181
182-188
189-201
202-204
205-207
208-211
cowTENTS.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
A Perilous Journey—“Left Hand”—Finding Friends When Preparing to
Meet Enemies—A Hand-Shaking Tournament.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Battle of the Rosebud—Wounding of Col. Guy V. Henry—Heroism of Ute
John—Both Hands Shot Away—The Trap to Catch the Command in
the Rosebud Canyon—Crook Unwillingly Gives Up the Chase of
the Hostiles. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
The Custer Massacre—Some Startling Facts—Length of the Battle—Only
Seven Indians Killed—How Custer Died —Who Was the Officer......
CEIAPTER XXXIX.
A Miraculous Escape—The Famous Sibley Scout—Grouard’s Account—
Lieut. Sibley’s Version—Hon. John F. Finerty's Story—Crazed by
Excitement and Fatigue—Saving the Entire Party ...................
CHAPTER XL.
'Something About Scouting—Trying to Stampede the Mules and Horses—
Hunting for the Hostile Trail—Capt. Jack Crawford—Bill Hamil-
ton's Adventure. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ...------............ . . . . . .
CHAPTER XLI.
The Slim Buttes Fight—Grouard Appropriates Two Fine Horses—Lieut.
Lieuttewitz Wounded—McClinton Recaptures One of Custer's Gui-
dons—Killing of Buffalo Chips—Big Bat Takes a Scalp—Death of
American Horse—Burning the Village..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XLII.
A Wonderful Ride—One Hundred and One Miles in Four Hours and Ten
Minutes—How Grouard “Scooped ” a Newspaper—The Official Dis-
patches—Lifted from the Saddle and Forced to Remain in Bed Three
!, CHAPTER XLIII.
The “Hearty Laugh Cure’—Strange Manner in Which Grouard Was Sud-
denly Cured of a Serious Sickness—The Laramie School Girls.......
223-242
243-265
266-292
293–299
300–311
312-319
320-32
2
CHAPTER XLIV.
Battle of the Red Fork—Gen. Crook Determines to Teach the Cheyennes a
Lesson—Grouard Kills Chief Little Wolf–Dull Knife’s Defeat and
…”
His Ineffectual Appeal to Crazy Horse for Assistance. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
323-332
X CONTENTS,
CHAPTER XLV.
California Joe—Accused of a Crime He Never Committed—Murdered in
Cold Blood at Robinson by Thomas Newcomb—Custer's Description
of the Noted Plainsman..... . . . . . . . . .
• * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER XLVI.
Surrender and Death of Crazy Horse—Plot of the Ogallala Chief to Massa-
cre the Whites at Red Cloud Agency—Breaking Faith—Killing of
the Chief—His Manly Qualities and Bravery—Some Reminiscences
—The Closing Scene........................
CHAPTER XLVII.
After Horse Thieves and Holdups—Grouard Has a Varied Experience with
the Knights of the Road—Trying to Capture Frank James
CHAPTER XLVIII.
Caught in a Blizzard—The Fresh Young Man From West Point—Grouard
Pilots the “Sage Brush Expedition ” Safely through an Awful
Storm–Gratitude of the Soldiers......................................
CHAPTER XLIX.
The Nez Perces War—The Most Remarkable Campaign on Record—Capture
of Chief Joseph and Band at Bear Paw Mountain..................
CHAPTER L.
Midnight Stampede—Frank James—How a Commanding Officer Prevented
a Meeting Between the Noted Highwayman and Grouard—Frank
James Afterwards Saves Grouard’s Life...............................
CHAPTER LI.
Capturing a Road Agent—Merchant Tillotson's Luck—Llewellyn Plays a
Cute Dodge and Grouard’s Life Comes Near Paying the Forfeit—
“Holdup Hall” and the Scout’s Early Morning Visit
º, º e º 'º º e º in e e º a e g e º sº
CHAPTER LII. -
The Killing of McGloskey—One of the Most Noted of Horse Thieves At-
tempts to Shoot Grouard and is Killed by the Scout—Cursing with
His Last Breath. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER LIII.
Sitting Bull—Some of the Great Chief’s Leading Characteristics—No Lag-
gard—The Last of all the Sioux to Surrender.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
, , 333-336
. 337-351
352-857
. 358-361
. 362-368
. 369-372
373-381
382–384
385-392
CONTENTS. * xi
CHAPTER LIV. PAGE.
The “Sword Bearer” Trouble on the Crow Reservation—Medicine that
Proved Disastrous—A Tempest in a Teapot............................ 393-395
CHAPTER LV.
The South Dakota. Outbreak—Responsibility for It—Much Light Through
Government Reports—The Killing of Sitting Bull—Destroying Big
Foot and His Band—End of the War. ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 396-475
CHAPTER LVI.
Grouard's Life Up to Date—His Love of Animals—Sompthing About His
Famous Horse—His Last Services........ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 476-4S2
PART SECOND.
CHAPTER I.
General George Crook—His Military Services, His Methods and Success—
Equal to Every Emergency—“This Was a Man.”...................... 483-486
CHAPTER II.
General George A. Custer—Army Record—A Dashing, Daring Officer Who
Had Never Been Introduced to Fear...... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 487-489
CHAPTER III.
John F. Finerty—“The Fighting Correspondent.”—His Career as a Jour-
nalist—Honored by the People—His Book, “Warpath and Bivouac.” 490–494
CHAPTER IV.
Wyoming Indians of Today—Something About Grand Old Chief
Washakie—Sharp Nose, Head Chief of the Arapahoes—Black Coal,
the War-Chief ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 495-508
CHAPTER. V.
Multurm in Parvo–Ben Clarke, Whose Reputation as a Scout Does Not Rest
Upon Fiction—A Characteristic Letter..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5,04-505
CHAPTER VI.
An Old-Timer's Story—Some of the Stirring Events in the Life of O. P.
Hanna, Who Broke the First Sod in Sheridan County—Anecdotes... 506-519
xii CONTENTS.
**
CHAPTER VII. PAGE.
A Sample One-Horse Holdup—How the Highwaymen. Enjoyed Themselves
at the Expense of T. J. Foster and Family—The Friendship of Frank
James. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 520–524
CHAPTER VIII.
Battle of Horse Shoe Creek—Seven Settlers Against Three Score Sioux
and Minneconjou Indians—Terrible Experience of Seven Brave
Men—Crazy Horse Makes a Treaty.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ...... 525-540
CHAPTER IX.
“Battle of By Cripes.”—Story Related by One of the Participants—“Pap”
Conant’s Predicament—How the Skirmish Received Its Name. . . . . . . 541-543
CHAPTER X.
Scouts—A Few Words About Some of the Noted Plainsmen Who Figure in
the Grouard Narrative. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 544-545

PREFACE.
I first met Frank Grouard at Fort Washakie, Wyom-
ing, in 1887, being introduced to him by Nelson
(Charlie) Yarnell, then a scout in the government ser-
vice. " I remember that meeting very distinctly. I was
prepared to meet a man who, at one period of his life,
had been forced through capricious circumstances to not
only abandon but partly forget his native tongue; but
I imagined that he would not be loth to speak of his
life among the Indians; that, having been freed from
the bonds of captivity, and dwelt among his own people
for the past thirteen years, ample time had been given
him to acquire familiarity with his native tongue. In
short, I supposed that he would be glad of an oppor-
tunity to open his lips, sealed for so long a time, and
recount some of the experiences and adventures which
had made his life of so much interest to people generally.
As a newspaper correspondent I was more than
anxious to get from Grouard the story of his life,
snatches of which had come to me from various sources
and divers places ; and I did not imagine, successful as
14 PREFACE.
I had been on many occasions in securing interviews
from men who bore the reputation of being impregnable
to “pen pushers,” that I would have any great difficulty
in securing the data I wanted from this noted scout.
How delusive were my imaginings as a matter of
fact. I found the man a veritable sphynx. He made a
few signs, which I did not understand, but which Mr.
Yarnell kindly interpreted (on the side) as indicating
that Grouard did not care to talk for publication. I
discovered later that I had been more successful than
any of my newspaper brethren in an attempt to inter-
view this man, inasmuch as he had made signs to me,
while the others had utterly failed to get this much
from him.
I spent the next three years in an almost constant
endeavor to make this man’s acquaintance, and I am
free to confess that I was as much astonished as grati-
fied when, in the spring of 1891, at Fort McKinney,
Wyoming, he informed me that if I would wait until he
returned from a duck-hunting trip which he was then
preparing to take with some of the officers of the Post,
accompanied by a party of gentlemen from Chicago
(among them Mr. Charles E. Nixon, musical critic of
the Chicago Inter-Ocean ), and which would occupy some
three weeks’ time, he would meet me at his home and
listen to what I had to say to him.
In conversation in 1890 with Gen. James S. Brisbin
(since deceased), an officer in the service whose writings
cover many volumes and have interested thousands of
readers, that gentleman told me, when I broached the
PREFACE. 15
$
subject of procuring in detail the life and adventures of
Grouard for publication, that it was time thrown away
to attempt to get anything of the kind. . He stated that
he himself had made an offer to Grouard several years
previous of quite a sum of money for papers and informa-
tion which the scout had in his possession, and which
he (Gen. Brisbin) desired to get for use in a history he
contemplated writing of the Sioux nation. He stated to
me that Grouard had flatly told him that he was not
ready at that time, and did not know that he ever would
be ready, to give the facts concerning his life and adven-
tures to any man, under any circumstances, for any con-
sideration, for publication. The General also informed
me that although he had learned enough concerning
Grouard to write a thousand-page volume of his adven-
tures while with the Indians and of the services he
had rendered the government since his escape from the
Sioux, it would not, when completed, be such a history
as would bear the stamp of authenticity without the aid
and assistance of Grouard himself in compiling it.
General Brisbin said he knew from personal knowl-
edge that Grouard had in his possession at the time he
attempted to secure the facts relating to the scout’s life,
a complete, unbroken record or history of the Sioux na-
tion, covering a period of over eight hundred years; but
that since that time, Grouard’s house at Fort McKinney
had been consumed by fire, and that all this document-
ary evidence had been destroyed by the hungry flames,
the scout saving nothing but his dog and revolver. With
the assistance of this record the general had hoped, could
16 PREFACE.
he have secured Grouard’s individual assistance, to have
written such a history of the redmen as would have at
once and forever set at rest the constantly recurring
controversies touching the origin of the aborigine. These
records were kept in hieroglyphics which Grouard could
readily have interpreted; but his want of disposition to
talk, coupled with his total indifference to acquiring a com-
petency through the medium of the Sioux records which
chance had made him the possessor of, stood as a bar
to the laudible ambition of Gen. Brisbin, and lost to the
reading world one of the most unique chapters in the
history of the universe.
I must confess that, from my previous endeavors and
inability to in any way secure Grouard’s friendly atten-
tion, this conversation with Gen. Brisbin gave to my
hopes a terrible backset, but it in nowise dampened my
ardor. Having started in to win, I proposed to overcome
every obstacle.
Suffice it to say Grouard went upon the duck hunting
expedition previously referred to, and was gone nearly
three weeks. Upon his return I met him in the trail
between the Post and his house, whereupon, without the
formality of a hand shake, a nod of the head or a “How”,
he asked me what I wanted with him. I told him that
I was anxious to secure a history of his life for publi-
cation in book form. He wanted to know what good
that would do anybody. He said a dozen other men
had told him they wanted the same thing, but that he
could not see what use the story of his life would be to
anybody, except to make a pauper of the man who at-
PEEFACE. 17
tempted to have it published. It probably took half an
hour to get this much out of him, when he informed me
that if I would come to the Post on the following day
he would have had time to think the matter over and
would give me an answer then. It is almost needless to
say that I was at the Post on the following day. We
met in the old commissary building (since destroyed) and
his first words to me were, “I will give you the story of
my life.”
Thereupon we entered into a written agreement and
appointed a day to begin the work. From that time
to the present day I have labored as steadily as I could
to write the history and adventures of this strange, taci-
turn, wonderful man—a man whose life began 'neath the
tropical sun on the island of Tihiti in 1850; whose child-
hood was passed in the home of those who were stran-
gers to his blood and curious disposition; whose youth
was spent, mid those frontier scenes which the epoch of
the '50's record as strangely grotesque and terribly real-
istic, and the dawn of whose manhood was darkened by
the bonds of captivity.
Without memoranda of any kind to guide him, re.
lying wholly upon, what everyone must concede to be,
his wonderful memory, Grouard has given, as detailed
in the pages of this book, the most minute history of
his adventurous career. tº
The object of the author of these pages has been
and is, first, last and always to “nothing extenuate nor
set down aught in malice.” The hero of this volume
has been permitted to recall his adventures in his own
1S PREFA CE.
\
way; to employ his own method in detailing his army
service.
Nothing has been shaded to suit a purpose, establish
a truth or raise a doubt. Grouard has told a plain, un-
varnished tale, and his words have been preserved in
shorthand as they fell from his lips.
In my relations with him, he has never given me
occasion to doubt a single statement he has ever made,
and I can thoroughly appreciate the confidence reposed
in him by Gen. Crook, who, in 1876, referring to
Grouard in his official correspondence with the War
Department, said: *
“I would sooner lose a third of my command than
Frank Grouard | ?”
No greater compliment, no higher tribute, could be
paid any man, and Gen. Crook has never been ac-
cused of flattery. Above all the scouts in his command,
}rook held Grouard highest in his esteem. He had
weighed him in the balance, and found him not wanting.
The jealousies of other scouts, the outcome, in part,
of the General's preference, counted naught with Crook.
When Grouard first joined the command he had but re-
cently escaped from captivity among the Sioux, and ad-
vantage was taken of this latter fact by some of the
scouts to poison the General’s mind against Grouard. It
was even told Crook that Grouard had come among the
troops to carry out a well laid plan to lead them into
the hands of the Indians for the purpose of destroying
them. But Crook looked beyond these scandalous
stories. He was a good character reader, and he knew
JOE DE BARTHE.


PREFA CE. 19
“the silent man’” (as he was fond of calling Grouard)
possessed a wise head and a brave heart. His confi-
dence in Grouard was never shaken nor betrayed, and,
up to the day of his death, Gen. George Crook was a
firm and steadfast friend to the hero of this volume.
Nor was this friendship unreciprocated. Grouard would
have dared any danger, faced any contingency, in the
performance of a service for the man who had won his
affection by confidence and kindness.
In giving to the world this volume of adventure, I
may be permitted to say that no effort has been spared
to reach truthful ends. The years of labor I have de-
voted to the work have, indeed, to me been a labor of
love; and no reader of these pages will be more fasci-
nated by Grouard’s recitals—more interested in the stir-
ring events narrated by him—than I have been.
Enjoying as I have, and do, the confidence and
friendship of Frank Grouard, I can pay him no higher
tribute than to say I have never known him to prove
faithless to a promise, recreant to duty or false to a
friendship.
True to himself, how could he be anything but true
to other men

PHoToGRAPHED BY TRONE, SHERIDAN, Wyo.
B. F. GROUARD. (FATHER OF FRANK.)

PART FIRST.
CHAPTER I.
FAMILY EIISTORY.
Early in the Seventeenth Century Francis Grouard,
a French Huguenot refugee, the great grandfather of
Frank Grouard, came from France and settled in New
Hampshire, near Portsmouth, where Frank’s grandfather
and father were born. They were named respectively
Francis and Benjamin F. Grouard. The great grand-
father of the hero of these pages, served on board a
privateer during the war between the American colonies
and Great Britain in 1812, while the grandfather of
Frank, touched with the same fire that burned within
the breast of his ancestors, took early to the sea, and
did service on the frigate Brandywine, under Commo-
dore Wodsworth, on the coast of Peru, during the
second term of General Jackson's presidency.
In the year 1843 Frank’s father, then a young man
of twenty years, went to the Paumoto Islands in the
22 FAMILY HISTORY.
South Pacific Ocean as a missionary. These islands lie
about two hundred and fifty miles east of the Tahiti, of
the Friendly Group.
Becoming very much attached to the natives of
these islands, and looking forward to a life work among
them, in 1846 Mr. Grouard married the daughter of a
high chief of the island of Ana—the principal one of
the group. The issue of that marriage was three sons—
Frank, born on September 20th, 1850, being the
second.
The French in the meantime having taken posses-
sion of this group of Islands, and making it so unpleas-
ant for foreigners, in the year 1852 the elder Grouard
brought his family to California and settled in San Ber-
nardino. But the rigors of the climate proving to se-
vere for the mother, she, in 1853, with her oldest and
youngest children, returned to the islands.
The elder Grouard finding it impossible to accom-
pany his wife and children to their home in the South
Pacific, took charge of his second son and remained in
San Bernardino for some years. He finally placed the
boy in the family of Addison Pratt, shortly after which
event the Pratt family moved to Beaver, Utah. Frank
was then five years of age, and never looked again upon
his father’s face until the month of April, 1893. The
elder Grouard, who had long mourned his son as dead,
during the winter of 1893 read an item in a California
paper about the compilation of “The Life and Adven-
tures of Frank Grouard, Chief of Scouts, U. S. A.”, and
at once set about getting into communication with the
MRS. LOUISA. B.
PRATT. (GROUARD'S FOSTER MOTHER.)

FAMILY HISTORY. 23
man who bore his son's name. To the author Mr.
Grouard, Sr., told the story about as follows:
“I had heard of Frank as being in the employ of
the Government, but was unable to locate him. It must
have been at the time he was carrying the pony express
from Musselshell to Fort Hall that rumors concerning
him reached me. Then followed news of his capture by
the Indians. Long years came and went before I again
heard of my son. The Sioux campaign of 1876 was on,
and it was immediately after the published account of
the Custer Massacre that I read of the ‘Sibley Scout,’
the paper giving details of the capture and death by
torture of Frand Grouard. I never learned the untruth-
fulness of that report for many years, and had about
given up the last hope, when I read an item in my
home paper about a book that was soon to be issued,
the title being the “Life and Adventures of Frank
Grouard.”
“I immediately put myself in communication with
the war department, and was in turn referred to the
department of the Platte, the officials at Omaha giving
me my son's address at Fort McKinney, Wyoming.
Imagine my surprise and joy upon receiving an answer
to my last letter from Frank himself. I took no time
in coming to Wyoming, and am anxiously awaiting my
son’s arrival here.”
This conversation occurred in the City of Sheridan
in the spring of 1893, and in the evening of that same
day the writer witnessed the reunion of father and
son—one tottering on the threshold of eternity, the other
in the prime of magnificent manhood.
24 FAMILY HISTORY.
Thirty-seven years had come and gone since these
two beings had looked upon each other’s faces. All
the love the human heart is capable of feeling for its
own flesh and blood beamed in the eyes of the gray-
haired man who held his long-lost son to his throbbing
breast. The picture—the memory of that meeting—is
ineffaceable. Not a word was spoken—silence was more
eloquent than words—while these two men remained in
each other’s embrace. And when they drew apart, the
father held his son at arm’s length, and through his
tears, smiled and said:
“I would know you among ten thousand.”
Mr. Grouard remained in Wyoming with his son for
something over a month. On his way into the state he
was seriously affected by the high altitude, and while at
his son’s home at Fort McKinney suffered a stroke of
paralysis, from which he never fully recovered. Upon
His return to his California home his health failed rapid-
ly, and on the 28th day of March, 1894, while passing
from his garden to his house, the messenger of death
met and overcame him.
Some years after the death of his first wife, Mr.
Grouard married again, five children being born to him.
He was engaged for a number of years in mercantile
pursuits in Illinois and California, and left a fine estate.
He was very highly esteemed by the people of Santa
Ana, where he spent the last years of his life, and the
following tribute to his memory was paid by one of the
local papers of his adopted city:
“On last Sunday morning, about 8 o’clock, B. F.
CHARLES E. GROUARD.
(BROTHER OF FRANK.)
& N.,
Cat-
ycº

FAMILY HISTORY. 2.5
Grouard, an old and well-known resident of this city,
dropped dead from heart disease while returning to the
house from a short walk in his door-yard. His sudden
death was not unexpected, as his family had been
warned by several physicians that such an end might
occur at any moment. In April, 1893, Mr. Grouard
made a trip to Wyoming, and while there was stricken
with paralysis of the left side, which naturally aggra-
wated the disease of the heart with which he had been
afflicted in some degree for several years. The De-
ceased was aged 75 years, 2 months and 15 days. The
funeral services were held Tuesday morning, at 10
o'clock, from the home place, Rev. Edw. T. Fleming
officiating. The Congregational choir furnished several
beautiful and appropriate selections for the occasion, and
with the eloquent and well-chosen words of the pastor,
formed a ceremony well fitted to close the long and
eventful life.
“In the death of Mr. Grouard, Santa Ana loses
one of the most picturesque figures in its history. Born
of Puritan parents in New Hampshire, he grew tired of
the rigid exactions then in vogue and ran away to Bos-
ton when fourteen years of age, from whence he em-
barked on a whaler and left the old home for good.
Many voyages, embracing nearly all lines of ocean ser-
vice, followed this one, and the world lost some of its
mystery to him when he had circumnavigated it several
times. His adventurous spirit finally landed him on the
Society Islands, where, with the assistance of the natives
and their crude implements, he constructed a vessel of
36 FAMILY HISTORY.
comfortable size and traded among the natives of the
fertile islands of that region for six or seven years.
His ship met the fate of many a good craft, and was
totally wrecked in a terrible storm in which the sturdy
navigator narrowly escaped with his life.
“Mr. Grouard first came to California in 1852, and
joined the great ranks of the gold miners, but with poor
success. He settled in Los Angeles a few years later,
and often told of the first orange trees that were
planted in Southern California, and of the curiosity they
excited. From the Golden State he removed to Illinois,
but the recollections of this good land were so tempting
that he again came to California fourteen years ago,
when he settled at Santa Ana, which has since been his
home. -
“A complete history of his life would fade most of
the fictitious stories of adventure. He was always a
great reader, and possessing a most retentive memory,
his mind was stored with a knowledge, the vastness and
'ariety of which was scarcely realized except by his
most intimate acquaintances. For many years Mr. Grou-
ard had conducted a successful business as brickmaker,
contractor and builder, with his son Charles. Being
naturally of an impulsive disposition, he did many things
which were heartily regretted ; but inside the gruff and
hearty exterior of the man there beat a heart always
warm for those in poverty and distress, and dwelt a na-
ture which was sympathetic to the highest degree, as
many a recipient of his generosity can testify.”
CHAPTER II.
“THE SILENT MAN OF THE westERN PLAINs.”
Grouard has been well named “The silent man of
the western plains.” It must be borne in mind by the
reader that his term of captivity among the Sioux
Indians covered a period of nearly six years, and six-
teen months of that time were spent under the strictest
surveillance. Unacquainted with the language of the
Sioux, and not knowing for a long time what disposi-
tion would eventually be made of him, he had no in-
centive to learn the red man's manner of speech, and
satisfied himself by closely watching the signs made by
the Indians in communicating with each other, for In-
dians will rarely be found conversing audibly, even
among themselves, when they can so conveniently make
themselves understood through the language of signs.
Numerous writers have claimed to have had long
talks with Grouard, and have printed at various times a
great deal of fiction regarding the noted scout. ... But the
author wishes to emphatically enter his protest against
the mode adopted by the aforesaid writers in fashioning
history to their own liking, without any tangible facts
upon which to build a truthful structure.
28 “THE SIL ENT MAN.”
An amusing instance of the manner in which
Grouard’s name has been mixed up with matters he was
never connected with came to the writer's attention dur-
ing the past summer. A correspondent of an eastern
paper visited Wyoming, and was introduced to the scout.
He attempted to “interview º' Grouard, and, finding he
would not talk if he could make himself understood by
a sign, the correspondent gave up the job and fell back
upon his imagination for a long-winded special to his
paper on Grouard’s nativity, age, captivity and adventures.
The correspondent informed his readers that the
scout was “part Sioux and part something else,” he
could not exactly tell what, as Grouard had been ‘ cap-
tured by the Indians when only three years old.” It
was pretty generally conceded, however, explained the
correspondent, that Grouard was some “kin to Sitting
Bull,” and that “his mother was a Cheyenne or Sho-
shone squaw.” When the battle of the Big Horn was
fought, this writer went on to explain, Grouard was one
of the party making the attack upon the Custer force,
“ his object being to work the destruction of the
Sioux.” He had purposely drawn the attacking party
“ away from Reno in order to rush it against Custºr,
believing the latter had numerical strength enough to
wipe the entire Sioux and Cheyenne nations off the face
of the earth.” “But he made a miscalculation,” ob-
serves this astute writer. Reno, contrary to Grouard's
expectations, “never left the entrenched position he had
occupied when the first attack had been inade upon
him,” and all the Indians, some five thousand in num-
* THE SIL ENT MAN.” 29
ber, drew off down the Little Big Horn to meet the
charge made by the Custer force, and one of the great-
est of massacres was the result. Immediately after the
battle, goes on the history maker, Grouard fled the In-
dian village, and stole his way to Gen. Crook's command,
then located at the mouth of Little Goose creek canyon,
where he informed that officer of the fate of the gallant
Custer and his brave followers, and “from that day on
became an invaluable scout to the government.”
Thus, is history made But the space writer must
earn his daily bread, and the “truthful chronicler” must
be permitted to sing his song for the plaudits of the
same public that Barnum said would rather be hum-
bugged than not.
Even so good an authority as Captain John G.
Bourke – a writer than whom there is none more fas-
cinating and whose graphic pen-pictures are preserved
So faithfully in his latest book, “On the Border with
Crook,”— who had a more intimate knowledge of Frank
Grouard than any man outside of General Crook him-
self (and perhaps John F. Finerty, the Chicago Times
correspondent who campaigned with the scout during the
year 1876,) remembers Grouard as “a native of the
Sandwich Islands, who for some years was a mail rider
in northern Montana, and was there captured by the
forces of Crazy Horse ; his dark skin and general ap-
pearance gave his captors the impression that Frank
was a native Indian whom they had recaptured from the
whites ; consequently, they did not kill him, but kept
him a prisoner until he could recover what they believed
30. “THE SIL ENT MAN.”
to be his native tongue — the Sioux. Frank remained
several years in the household of the great chief Crazy .
Horse, whom he knew very well, as well as his medi-
cine man — the since renowned Sitting Bull.
That Grouard was a mail rider goes without ques-
tion ; but, as to his place of birth, his capture and the
reason of his life having been spared by the Sioux,
the line is drawn altogether to carelessly, as is explained
further on. Captain Bourke, however, gives ample evi-
dence of his appreciation of Grouard in the following
glowing words: - . -
“Grouard was one of the most remarkable wood-
men I ever met ; no Indian could surpass him in his
acquaintance with all that pertained to the topography,
animal life and other particulars of the great region be
tween the head of the Piney, the first affluent of the
Powder on the west, up to and beyond the Yellowstone
on the north ; no question could be asked him that he
could not answer at once and correctly. His bravery
and fidelity were never questioned ; he never flinched
under fire, and never growled at privation.”
From his appearance Grouard is often mistaken for
a full blooded Sioux Indian. He stands six feet in
height and weighs two hundred and thirty pounds. His
massive head and neck rest upon broad, square shoulders,
the head being surmounted by a heavy growth of
black hair, now slightly tinged with gray. His forehead
is broad and high, and his eyes, which are very large
and expressive, have that peculiar appearance so notice-
able and distinctive in persons born in the tropics. The
“THE SIL ENT MAN.” 31
cheek bones are very prominent. The nose is large,
though none too large for his full, round face. He has
a very kindly mouth. The chin is broad and firm, and
evinces one of the man’s most striking characteristics–
determination. *
Many are the stories told of Grouard's origin, none
of which, so far as the writer has been able to discover,
bear any resemblance to the real facts. Nor is there any
truth in the stories that parties bearing the name of
Grouard and living in the Dakotas are in any way re-
lated to him. His two brothers, born in the tropics,
were brought from the Friendly Islands to San Francisco
in 1852; but the climate not agreeing with his mother's
health and she falling into a decline, these children, with
their mother, were taken back to the land of their na-
tivity, and neither Grouard nor his father have ever dis-
covered what became of them. The elder Grouard made
many unsuccessful attempts to place himself in communi-
cation with the wife of his youth and the children she
had borne him. He received, through the medium of
sea-faring men, news that his wife had died shortly after
her return to the Island of Tihiti, and that her children
had been taken in charge by her people ; but neither
Grouard nor his father have ever been able to discover
their whereabouts.
- Grouard was two years old when he arrived in San
Francisco in company with his father, mother and two
brothers. When the other children were sent back to
their island home, Frank was kept in San Francisco by
his father, whose business at that particular time did not
32 “TIIE SIL ENT MAN.”
permit him to accompany his family to Tihiti. Frank
was finally entrusted to the care of a family by the name
of Pratt, and while he was still a very small child, this
family removed from California to southwestern Utah,
where the boy remained until his fifteenth year, when,
tiring of the monotony of the wilderness, he ran away
and began life for himself.
The elder Grouard visited his son off and on until
the boy arrived at the age of five years, at which time
the Pratt family moved to Utah. From that time, 1855,
father and son never met again until April, 1893, when
they were reunited at Sheridan, Wyoming.
Grouard was captured by the Sioux Indians when
nineteen years of age and, to all intents and purposes,
became a full-fledged Indian. When he knew for certain
that his captors did not intend to destroy him (a dis-
covery he did not make until he had been in the village
of the hostiles sixteen months) he made the best of his
situation, and entered into the spirit of savagery with a
zest that astonished even those who had been friendly
toward him — none more so than Sitting Bull, who was
very proud of his adopted brother. The torture, the
dances, the sweats, the hunts and ceremonials were par-
taken of by the captive as they presented themselves.
Civilized dress gave place to the breech-clout and moc-
casin; the demands of society to the customs of the
aborigine. Young, hardy and superbly built, he became
an object of pride among his captors. He outplayed
them in their games and outran them in their races.
His marksmanship became phenomenal. No Indian in
“THE SIL ENT MAN.” 33
the nation could outride him ; he bore the fatigue of
travel better than the best; he gloried in the chase;
was successful in the hunt. The summer's heat and the
winter's cold he bore with stoical indifference. In the
eyes of his savage brethren he was an ideal Indian.
But Grouard had “method in his madness.” He
knew, instinctively, that the redman's sway could not
endure forever ; that the halcyon days of savagery were
passing. He looked beyond the present into the future;
saw that the knowledge he was acquiring of the red-
man's customs and habits would be of use to others as
well as himself. He learned that the Indian's cunning
was but the study of tradition — handed down — taught
and learned. A riper intelligence — the mind of the
Caucasian which could grasp all the wealth from the
fountain of savage knowledge—could better on the in-
struction from Indian tradition. So he become con-
tent to bide the time of his deliverance, feeling, be-
lieving, knowing there was no loss in his transitory
transformation.
For nearly six years he watched, and studied and
waited. And when the hour of departure from the
tepi and the tribe was at hand, he stepped forth eagle-
plumed to do his fellow-man service. From the village
of the redman to the camp of the frontier army! And
back again, with vengeance in his wake, over those old,
familiar trails, into the mountain fastnesses, across the
Sun-scorched plains, driving his former captors from the
lands of their fathers into the circumscribed sections set
apart by government for their use, or into the great and
34 “THE SIL ENT MAN.”
fathomless Beyond! The Uncapapa, the Minneconjou,
the Ogallalla, the Sisseton, the Yankton, the Sans Arcs,
the Assiniboine, the Brule, the Blackfoot, the Cheyenne,
the Arapahoe, the Shoshone, the Yanktonnais, the Ban-
nock, the Crow and Nez Perces fled before the host he
led against them, stopping in their course to give battle
against the conquering army — the riper intelligence —
now striking a blow, like on the Little Big Horn, that
sent a shudder through civilization, then meeting almost
total annihilation beneath the shadows of the Bear Paw.
Grouard had suffered everything but death at the
hands of the savages during the term of his captivity.
He was now the avenging sprite, and the Indians feared
and hated him. Revenge was not his controlling mo-
tive, however. He was righting myriad wrongs.

BIG GOOSE CANYON, ABOVE SHERIDAN, WYO.

CHAPTER III.
PRELIMINAT&Y OBSERVATIONS.
The policy of the government toward the Indian,
up to a very recent date, has been one of vacillation
and uncertainty. There has always been manifested a
desire to “handle the red men with gloves.” To this
steadily-pursued policy may safely be attributed all the
perplexities and uncertainties that have existed in our
relations with the Indians on the western frontier.
Treaty after treaty was made by the government on one
side and the Indians on the other only to be broken
ere the seals were secure and the ink of the signatures
dry.
This was notably the case with the agreements en-
tered into at Fort. Laramie by the United States Peace
Commission and the Sioux and Cheyennes in the year
1866. In fact, it was well known at the time the con-
ference was held that but few of the head chiefs of
either the Sioux or Cheyenne nations were present at
that conference, and history records the fact that when
the Commission sent trusted agents out to treat with the
head chiefs of these nations, several of those agents suf-
fered great indignities at the hands of the savage lead-
A
/
/
36 PRELIMINARY OBSEE VATIONS,
ers, and were sent back to the Commission with answers
that never found their way into print as part of the
report made by the members of that august body.
Like most of its predecessors, the Commission of 1866
accomplished nothing that lent any additional security to
the emigrant or the settler. On the contrary, its labors
but tended to confirm a long-standing belief among the
savages that the Great Father was afraid to attempt a
conquest by arms.
In the very face of the work of the Peace Commis-
sion of 1866, the Phil Kearney massacre occurred, and,
as if to establish more firmly the belief among the red
men that the government was afraid to “carry the war
into Africa,” the posts of defense in the heart of the
Indian country were abandoned by the government
through one of the most compromising treaties ever
made between the government and the aborigine, thus
closing the country from the Laramie river to the Brit-
ish line, and giving to the warlike Sioux and Cheyennes
complete possession of the vast domain from the Platte
to the Missouri river on the north, and from the Da-
kota Black Hills on the east to the Wind range of
mountains on the west (one of the richest mineral and
agricultural sections in the United States, if not in the
world).
In fact, while the government was assured that the
Indians had patched up a lasting peace through the ef-
forts of the Commission of 1866, and was congratulating
itself upon the success of its latest overtures, the Sioux
were covertly making preparations to carry on a war of
PRELIMINARY ORSERVATIONS. 37
extermination in the region they had secured by con-
quest from the Crows; and it was under just such con-
ditions that Colonel Carrington and his brave little gar-
rison faced the heavy task of building Forts Phil Kear-
ney and C. F. Smith at points where savage assaults
were of daily and deadly occurrence. - *
Two years after the butchery of the Fort Phil Kear-
ney command, the posts that menaced the Indians and
afforded some protection to the emigrant and settler
were dismantled and abandoned.
The Indian, once more, held arrogant and undis.
puted sway over one of the finest scopes of country in
the United States—what to-day is the great commercial
gateway to and from the land of the setting sun. But
savagery could not long withstand the encroaching foot-
steps of advancement and civilization. What the gov-
ernment would not concede to frontier settlement, was
wrested from the Indian by the hardy pioneer and the
fearless adventurer.
Some slight show was made in the Black Hills by
the government to remove the gold-seekers; but the de-
mand for the opening of that section to settlement was
stronger than the language of the treaty with the In-
dians to keep it closed, and in the fall of 1875 the
Hills echoed and re-echoed with the victorious shouts of
a newer race. *
Stories of fabulous wealth hidden beneath the sur-
face of the Dakota hills and under the majestic Big
Horn mountain peaks had reached the hungering adven-
turers of the east, and nothing could beat back the
38 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. t
wave of advancing humanity. The promised harvest was
golden, and many were the reapers.
In this unequal battle for gold all hazards were
scoffed at ; all dangers were dared. Anticipation, like
some beckoning angel, lighted up the dreary western
wastes over which men must travel to the land of Real-
ization. Strangers became brothers in their new-found
acquaintanceships; and brothers, alas, rushing madly for-
ward to secure a promised prize, became strangers to
each other's love.
The Sioux, the Cheyenne, the Arapahoe and the
Blackfoot disputed possession with this horde of incom-
ing humanity. Their rights, resting on the parchment
given them by the Great Father, made sacred through
the promises that were fashioned only to be broken, like
dicer's oaths, were suffering annulment, and the white
man's government permitted it.
Right or wrong, the Indian stood his ground.
Faith in treaties made with the Great Father was shat-
tered. Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, one a diplomat,
the other a warrior, were yet fashioned in the same
mould. Both hated the white race with a hatred born
of savage blood. The overtures of government fell
like funeral dirges upon their unwilling ears. The
agency to them was a prison. Like Macbeth (with
Physic), they’d “none of it.” They knew no methods
of conciliation, but studied all means to crush. There
Was no happy medium with these men. They steadily
and persistently maintained that the hope of the Indian
was in war. They realized that, little by little, the scep-
PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 39
tre of savagery was being wrested from the hand of the
redman. Annihilation, striding like a Colossus over the
western empire they had called their home, had already
planted its iron heel on the southwestern slope of the
continental divide. The shadows of everlasting silence
were gathering for the aborigine over the valleys where
their fathers had held undisputed sway. Nothing was
longer secure to them. A newer, riper, alien race was
driving the buffalo from its wallow, the deer, the elk,
the antelope from mountain and plain. The steamboat
and iron horse had formed a magic link between the
lands of the rising and setting sun. The savage had
nothing to concede. His safety, the safety of his race,
was to be found nowhere if not in pitiless, unrelenting,
never-ending war. This was the creed of Sitting Bull,
and Crazy Horse echoed the sentiment.
“There is, indeed, in the fate of these unfortunate
beings,” says a learned writer, “much to awaken our
sympathies and much to disturb the sobriety of our
judgment; much that may be urged to excuse their own
atrocities. What can be more melancholy than their
history We see by the law of their nature they are
destined to a slow but sure extinction. Everywhere at
the approach of the white man they fade away. We
hear the rustling of their footsteps like that of the
Withered leaves of autumn, and they are gone forever.
They pass mournfully by us and return no more. Two
centuries ago the smoke of their wigwams, the fires of
their councils, rose in every valley from the Hudson Bay
to the furthest Florida. From the ocean to the Missis-
40 PRELIMINARY OF3,SER VATIONS.
sippi and the lakes, the shouts of victory and the war-
dance rang through the glades; the thick arrows and
the deadly tomahawk whizzed through the forest. The
warriors stood forth in their glory. The young listened
to the songs of other days. The aged sat down, but
they wept not. They would soon in the far region be
at rest where the Great Spirit dwelt in a home prepared
for the brave beyond the western skies. Braver men
never lived ; truer men never drew the bow. They had
courage and fortitude and sagacity and perseverance be-,
yond most of the human race. They shrank from no
danger ; they feared no hardship. If they had the vices
of a savage life, they had the virtues, also. They were
true to their country, their friends and their homes. If
they forgave not injury, neither did they forget kindness.
If their vengeance was terrible, their fidelity and gen-
erosity was unconquerable, also. Their love like their
hate, stopped not this side of the grave.
“But where are they Where are their villages,
their warriors and youth. The sachem and his tribe;
the hunters and their families? They have perished!
They are consumed! The Wasting pestilence has not
alone done the mighty work; no, nor famine, nor war!
There has been a mightier power; a moral cancer which
has eaten into their heart core; the plague which the
hand of the white man communicated; a poison which
has betrayed them into a lingering ruin. Already the
winds of the Atlantic fan not a single
region they may
now call their own.”
PRELIMINARY OR SEIP VATIONS. 4 I
“I saw the last feeble remnant of the race prepare
for their long journey beyond the Mississippi. I saw
them leave their miserable homes; the aged, the help-
less, the women and the warriors. Few and faint, yet
fearless still. The ashes have grown cold on their native
hearth; the smoke no longer curls around their lonely
cabins; they move on with a slow, unsteady step. The
white man is upon their heels, but they heed him not.
They turn to take a last look at their deserted villages;
they cast a last glance over the graves of their fathers:
they shed no tears; they utter no cries; they heave no
groans. There is something in their looks, not of venge-
ance nor submission, but hard necessity, which stifles
both and has no method; it is courage absorbed in de-
spair. They linger but for a moment. Their look is
onward. They have passed the fatal stream. It shall
never be repassed by them, ah, never; yet there lies not
between us and them an impassable gulf. They know
and feel there is for them one removal further, not dis.
tant nor unseen It is the general burying-ground of
the race!”
“The policy of the American people has been to
Vagadondize the Indian, and throttle every ambition he
may have for his own elevation; and we need not hug
the delusion that the savage has been any too anxious
for work, unless stimulated, encouraged and made to see
that it meant his immediate benefit and advancement.”—
Capt. John G. Bourke’s “On the Border with Crook.”
After the Fort Phil Kearney massacre congress ap-
pointed a special commission to “investigate” the causes
42 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
leading up to it. The report of this commission is
known in history as Senate Document No. 13, and is
dated 1867. It is as fair and impartial an account of the
labors of the United States Peace Commission which met
at Laramie in 1866 and the subsequent slaughter of Col.
Fetterman and party as could possibly have been made;
and as it is in itself a summarization of the tragic
events following the attempt to open a highway through
the heart of the Indian country—the particular section
of country which became the field of operation during
the Custer, Crook and Miles campaigns ten years later—
it is given here to better illustrate the “kid-glove
policy” of the government toward the Indians: &:
The main object sought to be secured by the treaty
of Laramie of July, A. D. 1866, was the opening of a
new route to Montana from Fort Laramie, via Bridger's
Ferry and the head waters of the Powder, Tongue and
Big Horn Rivers. This country was occupied by the
Ogallalla and Minneconjou bands of Sioux Indians and
the northern Cheyenne and Arapahoe tribes, and the
mountain Crows.
The region through which the road was to pass
and does pass is the most attractive and valuable to In-
dians. It abounds with game, flocks of mountain sheep,
droves of elk and deer; and herds of buffalo range
through and live in this country, and the Indians with
profºriety call it their last best hunting grounds. All
these Indians were reluctant to allow the proposed road
to pass through these hunting grounds, but all would
reluctantly assent to this for so liberal an equivalent
RESERVATION CROWS.

PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 43
as the government was ready to give. The Indians
were required further to stipulate that the government
should have the right to establish one or more military
posts on this road in their country. All the Indians
occupying it refused thus to stipulate, and through the
chiefs, headmen and soldiers protested against the estab-
lishment of any military post on their hunting grounds
along the road north of Fort Reno.
While negotiations were going on with Red Cloud
and their leading chiefs to induce them to yield to the
government the right to peaceably establish these mili-
tary posts, which they persistently refused to yield, say-
ing it was asking too much of their people — asking all
they had — for it would drive away all the game, Col.
H. B. Carrington, 18th United States Infantry, with
about seven hundred officers and men, arrived at Lara-
mie, en route, to this country to establish and occupy
military posts along the Montana road, pursuant to Gen-
eral Orders No. 33, Headquarters Department of the
Missouri, March 10, 1866, Major-General Pope com-
manding. The destination and purpose of Col. Carring-
ton and his command were communicated to their ghiefs.
They seemed to construe this as a determination on the
part of the government to occupy their country, by mili-
tary posts, even without their consent or that of their
people, and as soon as practicable withdrew from the
council with their adherents, refusing to accept any
presents from the commission, returned to their country,
and with a strong force of warriors commenced a vigor-
ous and relentless war against all whites who came into
it, both citizens and soldiers.
44 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
Quite a large number of Indians, who did not oc-
cupy the country along this road, were anxious to make
a treaty and remain at peace. Some of this class had
for a long time resided near Fort Laramie. Others
(Brules) occupied the White Earth River valley and the
sand hills south of that river.
The commissioners created and appointed several of
the leading warriors of these Indians, chiefs, viz., Big
Mouth, Spotted Tail, Swift Bear and Two Strikes. A
portion of these Indians have remained near Fort Lara-
mie, and a portion of them on the Republican fork of
the Kansas river, and have strictly complied with their
treaty stipulations.
The number of Sioux Indians who considered them-
selves bound by the treaty and have remained at peace
is about two thousand, while the Minneconjou and a
portion of the Ogallalla and Brule bands, the northern
Cheyennes and Arapahoes, with a few Sans Arcs, num-
bering in the aggregate about six hundred lodges, re-
mained in their old country and went to war under the
auspices of their old chiefs. -
We therefore report that all the Sioux Indians occu-
pying the country about Fort Phil Kearney have been
in a state of war against the whites since the 20th day
of June, A. D. 1866, and that they have waged and
carried on this war for the purpose of defending their
ancient possessions and the possessions acquired by them
from the Crow Indians by conquest after bloody wars,
from invasion and occupation by the whites.
This war had been carried on by the Indians with
PREI, IHINARY OBSEI: J’ATIONS. 45
the most extraordinary vigor and unwonted success.
During the time from July 26th, the day on which
Lieutenant Wand’s train was attacked, to the 21st day
of December, on which Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel Fet-
terman, with his command of eighty officers and men,
was overpowered and massacred, they killed ninety - one
enlisted men and five officers of our army, and killed
fifty-eight citizens and wounded twenty more, and cap-
tured and drove away three hundred and six oxen and
cows, three hundred and four mules, and one hundred
and sixty-one horses. During this time they appeared
in front of Fort Phil Kearney, making hostile demon-
strations and committing hostile acts, fifty-one different
times, and attacked nearly every train and person th; t
attempted to pass over the Montana road.
General Orders No. 33, Headquarters Department
of Missouri, dated March 10, 1866, directed that two
new military posts should be established on this new
route to Montana — one “near the base of the Big
Horn mountains,” the other “ on or near the Upper Yel-
lowstone,” and designated the 2d battalion of the 18th
Infantry to garrison the three posts on this route, and
created the Mountain District, Department of the Platte,
and directed the colonel of the regiment (Colonel H. B.
Carrington) to take post at Fort Reno and command
the district, which included all the troops and garrisons
on this route.
General Orders No. 7, Headquarters Department of
the Platte, June 23, 1866, directed that the 2d bat-
talion, 18th Infantry, should take post as follows: Two
46 PRELIMINARY OR SER WATIONS.
- companies at Fort Reno, on Powder river, two compan-
ies about eighty miles nearly south of Reno, on the
waters of . Powder or Tongue river, which Post should
be known as Fort Philip Kearney, and two companies
at the crossing of the Big Horn river on the same road,
and about seventy miles beyond Fort Phillip Kearney,
to be known as Fort C. F. Smith, and directed that the
colonel of the regiment should take post at Fort Philip
Kearney, and command the “Mountain District.”
The orders above referred to were issued with the
express understanding, apparently, that this road to Mon-
tana was to be opened through the Indian country by
compact or treaty with the Indians occupying it, and
not by conquest and the exercise of arbitrary power on
the part of the government. Hence Col. Carrington's
instructions looked mainly to the duty of selecting and
building the two new forts, Philip Kearney and C. F.
Smith, and the command assigned was only sufficient
for this purpose and properly garrisoning the posts.
This command numbered in all about seven hundred
men, five hundred of whom were new recruits, and
twelve officers, including district commander and staff.
The commanding officer, Col. Carrington, could not and
did not fail to see at once that, although his command
was entirely sufficient to erect the new forts, build the
barracks, warehouses, and stables, and make preparations.
for winter, and properly garrison his posts, and could
protect emigration from the small thieving parties of In-
dians, it was still entirely inadequate to carry on sys-
tematic and aggressive war against a most powerful
I’RELIMINARY OR SER VATIONS. 47
tribe of Indians, fighting to maintain possession and
control of their own country, in addition to those other
- duties. This officer carried the orders above weferred to
into effect with promptness and zeal, organizing the
mountain district June 28th, 1866, establishing Fort
Philip Kearney on the 15th of July, and Fort C. F.
Smith on the 3d day of August, and as early as the
31st day of July informed Gen. P. St. George Cooke,
the department commander, that the status of Indians
in that country was one of war, and requested reinforce-
ments sent to him, and two days previously had tele-
graphed the adjutant-general of the army for Indian
auxiliaries and additional force for his own regiment.
On the 9th of August, General Cooke, command-
ing department of the Platte, informed Colonel Car-
rington that Lieutenant-General Sherman ordered the
posts in his, Colonel Carrington’s district, supported as
much as possible, and announced a regiment coming
from St. Louis.
No auxiliaries were assigned, and no reinforce -
ments came until November, when company C, 2d
United States cavalry, reached Fort Kearney, sixty
strong, armed with Springfield rifles and Star carbines.
In December, about ninety recruits joined the battalion
in the mountain district, a portion of whom Wel'e a S-
signed to a company stationed at Fort Phil Kearney.
No other reinforcements were sent to the district. Ap-
proved requisitions for ammunition were not answered.
The command at Fort C. F. Smith was reduced to
ten rounds per man ; the command at Fort Phil Kear-
\
48 | PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
ney to forty-five rounds per man, and the command
at Fort Reno to thirty rounds per man. Recruits could
not practiee any in firing. Little time could be allowed
from fatigue duty or drill, and with but twelve offi-
cers and three posts little could have been done in
drilling recruits, if time could have been allowed.
The result of all this was that the troops were in
no condition to fight successful battles with Indians or
other foes, and this from no fault of Colonel Carring-
ton ; and I am astonished at the zeal with which they
fought, and the damage they inflicted, December 21st.
The numerous demonstrations and attacks made by
Indians prior to the 6th of December seemed to have
been made for the sole purpose of capturing stock,
picket posts, and small parties of soldiers who might
venture beyond the cover of the garrison, and of an-
noying and checking the wood train constantly draw-
ing material for the new forts.
On the morning of December 6th the wood train
was attacked, a common occurence, about two miles from
the fort, and forced to corral and defend itself. Brevet
Lieutenant-Colonel Fetterman, with a command of sev-
enteen mounted infantry and thirty-five cavalry, moved
out to relieve the wood train, and drive off the Indians,
and Col. Carrington, with twenty-five mounted infantry,
moved out for the purpose of cutting off the Indians
from retreat, and destroying them. On this day, at a
point on Peno Creek, about five miles from the fort,
the Indians, the second time after the fort was estab-
lished, made a stand and a strong resistance, and
PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 49
nearly surrounded Col. Fetterman's party. The infan-
try, obeyed orders and behaved well. The cavalry,
with the exception of ten enlisted men, disobeyed
the orders of Col. Fetterman, and fled with great pre-
cipitancy from this portion of the field. As the cavalry
retreated, the Indians made a great display and effort
to create a panic with the infantry, but Col. Fetterman,
Lieut. Wands, and Lieut. Brown succeeded in keeping
this small body of infantry cool, and by reserving their
fire for proper range, rescued it from annihilation, and
made a junction with Col. Carrington's party, on the
east side of Peno Creek. Lieut. Bingham, after leaving
Col. Fetterman's party, with Lieut. Grummond, a sergeant
from Col. Carrington’s command, and two men from his
own, without the knowledge or orders of any of his
superiors, pursued into an ambuscade, more than two"
miles from the main party, a single Indian who was on
foot in front of their horses, and Lieut. Bingham and
the sergeant were there killed. The results of this day's
fighting, although not of a decidedly successful charac-
ter to the Indians, were such as naturally to induce the
belief on their part that by proper management and ef-
..fort they could overpower and destroy any ... force that
could be sent out from the fort to fight them, and no
doubt at this time resolved to make the effort the first
auspicious day, and postponed their proceedings from the
new to the full moon. In the meantime everything was
quiet about the fort, although they often appeared on
the surrounding hills.
On the morning of December 21st the picket at the
50 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
signal station signaled to the fort that the wood train
was attacked by Indians, and coralled, and the cscort
fighting. This was not far from 11 o'clock a. m., and
the train was about two miles from the fort, and mov-
ing toward the timber. Almost immediately a few In-
dian pickets appeared on one or two of the surrounding
heights, and a party of about twenty near the Big
Piney, where the Montana road crosses the same, within
howitzer range of the fort. Shells were thrown among
them from the artillery in the fort, and they fled.
The following detail, viz., fifty men and two officers
from the four different infantry companies, and twenty-
six cavalrymen and one officer, was made by Col. Car-
rington. The entire force formed in good order and
was placed under command of Brevet Lieut.-Col. Fetter-
• man, who received the following orders from Col. Car-
rington : “Support the wood train, relieve it, and report
to me. Do not engage or pursue Indians at its ex-
pense; under no circumstances pursue over Lodge Trail
Ridge.” These instructions were repeated by Col. Car-
rington, in a loud voice, to the command when in no-
tion, and outside the fort, and again delivered in sub-
stance through Lieut. Wands, officer of the day, to
Lieut. Grummond, commanding cavalry detachment, who
was requested to communicate them again to Col. Fetter-
Iſla Il.
Colonel Fetterman moved out rapidly to the right
of the wood road, for the purpose no doubt of cutting
off the retreat of the Indians, then attacking the train.
As he advanced across the Piney a few Indians ap-
PRELIJIINARY OBSERVATIONS. 51
peared in his front and on his flanks, and continued
flitting about him, beyond rifle range, till they disap-
peared beyond Lodge Trail Ridge. When he was on
Lodge Trail Ridge, the picket signaled the fort that the
Indians had retreated from the train; the train had broken
corral and moved on toward the timber.
The train made the round trip, and was not again
disturbed that day.
At about fifteen minutes before 12 o'clock Colonel
Fetterman’s command had reached the crest of Lodge
Trail Ridge, was deployed as skirmishers, and at a half,
without regard to orders, for reasons that the silence of
Colonel Fetterman now prevents us from giving, he, with
the command, in a few moments disappeared, having
cleared the ridge, still moving north. Firing at once
commenced, amd increased in rapidity till, in about fif-
teen minutes and about 12 o'clock M., it was a continu-
ous and rapid fire of musketry, plainly audible at the
fort. Assistant Surgeon Hines, having been ordered to
join Fetterman, found Indians on a part of Lodge Trail
Ridge not visible from the fort, and could not reach the
force there struggling to preserve its existence. As soon
as the firing became rapid Colonel Carrington ordered
Captain Ten Eyck, with about seventy-six men, being all
the men for duty in the fort, and two wagons with am-
munition, to join Colonel Fetterman immediately. He
moved out and advanced rapidly toward the point from
which the sound of firing proceeded, but did not move
by so short a route as he might have done. The
Sound of firing continued to be heard during his advance,
52 PRELIMINARY ORSERT 4. TIONS.
diminishing in rapidity and number of shots till he
reached a high summit overlooking the battle-field, at
about a quarter before 1 o'clock, when one or two shots
closed all sound of conflict.
Whether he could have reached the scene of action
by marching over the shortest route as rapidly as pos-
sible in time to have relieved Col. Fetterman's com-
mand, I am nnable to determine.
Immediately after Capt. Ten Eyck moved out, and
by orders of Col. Carrington, issued at the same time
as the orders detailing that officer to join Col. Fetter-
man, the quartermaster's employes, convalescents, and
all others in garrison, were armed and provided with
ammunition, and held in readiness to reinforce the troops
fighting, or defend the garrison.
Capt. Ten Eyck reported, as soon as he reached a
summit commanding a view of the battlefield, that the
Peno valley was full of Indians; that he could see noth-
ing of Col. Fetterman’s party, and requested that a how-
itzer be sent to him. The howitzer was not sent. The
lndians, who at first beckoned him to come down, now
commenced retreating, and Capt. Ten Eyck, advancing
to a point where the Indians had been standing in a
circle, found the dead naked bodies of Brevet Lieut.-
Col. Fetterman, Capt. Brown, and about sixty-five of
the soldiers of their command. At this point there
were no indications of a severe struggle. All the
bodies lay in a space not exceeding thirty-five feet in
diameter. No empty cartridge shells were about, and
there were some full of cartridges. A few American
KIRKPATRICK’S RANCH, PRAIRIE DOG WALLEY, WITH MASSACRE HILL ON THE LEFT,


PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. . 53
**
horses lay dead a short distance off, all with their
heads toward the fort. This spot was by the roadside,
and beyond the summit of a hill rising to the east of
Peno Creek. The road, after rising the hill, follows
this ridge along for about half or three-quarters of a
mile, and then descends abruptly to Peno Creek. At
about half the distance from where these bodies lay to
the point where the road commences to descend to Peno
Creek was the dead body of Lieut. Grummond; and
still farther on, at the point where the road com-
mences to descend to Peno Creek, were the bodies of
the three citizens and four or five of the old, long-tried
and experienced soldiers. A great number of empty
cartridge shells were on the ground at this point, and
more than fifty lying on the ground about one of the
dead citizens, who used a Henry rifle. Within a few
hundred yards in front of this position ten Indian
ponies lay dead, and there were sixty-five pools of
dark and clotted blood. No Indian ponies or pools of
blood were found at any other point. Our conclusion,
therefore, is that the Indians were massed to resist Col.
Fetterman’s advance along Peno creek on both sides of
the road; that Col. Fetterman formed his advance lines
on the summit of the hill overlooking the creek and
valley, with a reserve near where the large number of
the dead bodies lay; that the Indians, in force of from
fifteen to eighteen hundred warriors, attacked him vigor-
ously in this position, and were successfully resisted
by him for half an hour or more; that the command
then being short of ammunition, and seized with panic
54 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
iš.
at this event and the great numerical superiority of the
Indians, attempted to retreat toward the Fort; that the
mountaineers and old soldiers, who had learned that a
movement from Indians, in an engagement, was equiva-
lent to death, remained in their first position, and were
killed there; that immediately upon the commencement
of the retreat the Indians charged upon and surrounded
the party, who could not now be formed by their Offi-
cers, and were immediately killed. Only six men of the
whole command were killed by balls, , and two of these,
Lieut.-Col. Fetterman and Capt. Brown, no doubt in-
flicted this death upon themselves, or each other, by
their own hands, for both were shot through the left
temple, and powder burnt into the skin and flesh about
the wound. These officers had also often-times asserted
that they would not be taken alive by the Indians.
In the critical examination we have given this pain-
ful and horrible affair, we do not find, of the imme-
diate participants, any officer living deserving of cen-
sure ; and even if evidence justifies it, it would ill be-
come us to speak evil of or censure those dead who
sacrificed life, struggling to maintain the authority and
power of the government and add new lustre to our
arms and fame.
Of those who have been more remotely connected
with the events that led to the massacre, we have en-
deavored to report so specifically as to enable your-
self and the President, who have much official infor-
mation that we cannot have, to determine where the
censure must fall. The difficulty, “in a nutshell,” was
PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
5
j
that the commanding officer of the district was furn-
ished no more troops or supplies for this state of
war than had been provided and furnished him for a
state of profound peace.
In regions where all was peace, as at Laramie in
November, twelve companies were stationed ; while in
regions where all was war, as at Phil Kearney, there
were only five companies allowed.
Following the massacre of Col. Fetterman and his
command, came the treaty of 1867, which gave to the
Sioux as a hunting ground all the lands lying be-
tween the Yellowstone on the north and the Piatte on
the south, the Black Hills (included) on the east, and
the Big Horn range of mountains on the west. Stipula-
tions for Indian schools were also made, but never
kept, and this, together with the excitement consequent
upon the reported rich gold fields in the Black Hills
and the invasion of the Hills by prospecters and ad-
venturers, led the Indians to believe that the treaty
of 1867 was nothing but an expedient and was never
made to be kept. In 1874 the Sioux and Cheyennes
began acting very badly, and it was found necessary
to establish military camps at the Spotted - Tail and
Red Cloud agencies, while Col. Custer and Col. Guy
V. Henry were sent to the Black Hills to drive out
the miners who had gone thither ; but nothing of
moment was ever done. The following year the gov-
ernment decided to call into agencies for registration
all the Indians occupying the land ceded by the
treaty of 1867 ; but Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse,
56 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
with their following, refused to comply with the de-
mands of the government. To the request sent these
chiefs in 1875 to report at Red Cloud agency to ne.
gotiate a treaty for the opening of the Black Hills
country, they sent a flat refusal to come in, and this
led to the heroic measures adopted in 1876, when a
force sufficient to subdue the hostile bands was sent
into the Indian country, Gen. Crook entering from
the south to form a junction with the troops under
Generals Terry and Gibbon, whose approach was from
the Yellowstone and Rosebud on the north, Crook’s
operations beginning in the early spring, entailing
marches over ground deeply covered with snow, and
under the most trying conditions imaginable.
When the Indians had at last been driven to the
reservations set aside for them and were kept under
the watchful eye of the army, the renegade whites, –
horse-thieves and hold-ups — began to prey upon the
settlers. No line of travel was safe ; no man's life
or property secure, and these conditions maintained
until the United States authorities took the “gentle-
men of the road” in hand and, in the end, suppressed
them. - & -
To-day, where thirty years ago the savage held ab-
solute sway, a thrifty, energetic people are cultivating
the soil and adding to the material wealth of the na-
tion ; the tepi and wickiup have given place to palace
and cottage; cities have sprung up on the very sites
where the turbulent and bloodthirsty Sioux and Chey-
ennes temporarily located their villages; the hum of
WAH-KA-PAMANE (ANNUITY), OF SPIRIT LAKE MASSACRE FAME.

PRELIMINARY OBSERV-4TIONS.
5
7
machinery has supplanted the savage song of victory
and the chant of death ; the children of the white
man are playing on the green where once the living
sacrifice was offered at the burning stake. Civilization
has wrought these various changes, and the blood of
countless forgotten heroes sanctified the soil which now
the plowman turns as he sings.

CHAPTER IV.
GROUARD’s own STORY.
I left school and hired out to a freighter named
McCartney, in the Big Square at old San Bernardino, in
1865. I hired out to him to drive team from there to
Helena, Montana. I worked for him for three and one-
half years as mule skinner. The train I first started
with was loaded with choice liquors. They put me in
charge of the third team. The drivers go by rotation
as a general thing. You have to work from the bottom
up. I had never driven anything, but had done a little
riding and could handle horses first rate, and I don’t
recollect that anything of moment happened for some
time after we left Bernardino. I know the wagonmaster
rode alongside of me the first three or four days, teach-
ing me to drive mules. There were twenty-four mule-
teams in the train.
It took eleven months to make the trip to Helena.
We started in the fall from San Bernardino. I don’t
remember anything distinctly until we got to the Los
Vegas river. There is where 1 first came in contact
with the Indians. We reached the lower part of Utah
early in the spring, and passed through the scene of
GROUARD'S OWN STORY. 59
the mountain meadow massacre. The bones of the vic-
tims were still bleaching in the sun. The wagons and
wrecks of the whole train were lying around the plain,
and showed very distinctly.
From there we came to old John D. Lee's place,
the leader of the massacre. We camped at his place
some time. We got right into that part of the country
in the rainy season, early in the spring. The roads be-
came so soft that the wagons sunk deep in the mire
and sand along the road. Some were in the mud so
deep it was hard to get them out. When we got a
wagon mired down there was always trouble. Each of
the drivers had a bundle of straws and a gimlet. They
would draw the whisky out through a gimlet hole, and
it was a sure thing to have a big spree or drunk when-
over the wagons got stuck in the mud. I saw so much
of the mule skinner's drinking and fighting that I took
a dislike to whisky, and made up my mind I would
never drink any whisky if it had that effect on a per-
son. I have never touched a drop of whisky from that
on without some good and sufficient reason.
We went up through the settlements of Utah to
Salt Lake City, and camped there a month or more, and
learned a good deal while there from and about the
Mormons. Met old Brigham Young there Was all
through his house. It gave me a pretty good insight
into the life of the Mormons—coming through the set-
tlement. From Salt Lake City we went to Helena ;
We were about a month on the road. Nothing of mo-
60 GROUARD'S OWN STORY.
ment occured. Freighted between Helena and Salt Lake
all that summer. It was at the former place I first met
Bill Bevins, the highwayman. Helena wats nothing but
a mining camp, then. The biggest part of the mining
was done in the lower part of the town. - The town was
in a gulch and the placer mines were right in the town.
The place was like every mining camp, full of shacks,
tents and some very good buildings at that time—lots of
open saloons, brothels and gambling dens. I became
acquainted with the notorious Bill Bevins, who was then
in the height of his career at Helena. I was down
town with him the night of a big shooting scrape in
which he was one of the principals. Of course, in all
the places there was gambling, more or less; but he had
his certain place to gamble. He owned the best claim
in the gulch and was supposed to be worth a million
dollars. He says to me after we had been looking over
the city : Úº
“I am going to play poker. You can come up and
watch, if you want to, or run around town.”
I went with him and stayed until about 12 o'clock,
when I left him. I never heard of the shooting until
the next morning. They told me that Bevins had been
shot and cut up pretty bad, and had won a good deal of
money in the bargain. I went down to the hospital
where he was lying, and he told me the circumstances.
IIe had won $120,000 that night. Of course, as quick
as he won this he got on a spree, and a row with other
gamblers followed, raturally enough. He got shot and
cut eighteen times, and was pretty well used up when he
GROUARD'S OWN STORY. 61
got through with it. I saw him more or less that whole
summer, after he had recovered from his wounds. It was
all card playing with him. He was a regular gambler,
and one of the “leading men º’ of Helena at that time.
This was before the vigilant committee was organized,
and that was how he came to go away from there. He
got broke at last ; lost all his money. The next time I
saw him was in 1876, at Red Cloud Agency, Nebraska.
He was without a cent. He was driving a stage then,
and in '76 he started for the Laramie plains with two
other parties. Their names were Herman Leslie, who is
now in the state prison, sentenced for ninety-nine years,
and George Hastings, nephew of the then agent at Red
Cloud. --
He went over to the Laramie Plains and jumped an
old man named Robert Foote, and I think he tried to kill
him for the money he was supposed to have. He didn't
succeed in killing him. He was taken up for it and sen-
tenced for three years. Herman Leslie got two years,
and the other man, this nephew of the agent, got clear.
Bevins was taken to the Laramie jail, and when I got
back to Red Cloud Agency in the fall, I received a tel-
egram from the Sheriff saying that Bevins had broken
jail and started over our way, and for me to be on the
lookout for him. I was given an escort. I was up about
six miles from Fort Laramie, and was stopping with Big
Bat, (Baptiste Pourier). I directed the soldiers to come
up to Bat's place, telling them I would go ahead and
change horses and clothing. When I went into the house
somebody was lying asleep just inside the door, and who
62 GROUARD'S OWN STORY.
should it be but Bevins, with a gun lying across his
breast. I hallooed at him as soon as I saw who it was,
and said :
“Bevins, you ought to wake up.” r
He got up ready for fighting; but as quick as he
woke up and saw who it was, he lays his gun down
and says: •.
“I thought it was somebody else.”
I says: “What are you doing here?”
He answered: “Resting, sleeping. I have not had
any sleep for three or four nights.”
“Well,” I says, “You ought to get out of here;
you are in a pretty hard fix.”
He says: “I know it.”
“I just got a telegram about you,” said I.
He says: “I want a horse, and a suit of clothes
from Bat.” -
I said all right. I gave him a horse, and he got a
suit of clothes from Bat. There was not enough money
in the United States to induce me to take him. I
would rather have gotten into trouble myself than to
have taken him. I asked him which way he was going.
He said on to Running Water. I told him that I was
going up the river. He said all right, and started out.
That was about all there was said at this time. Of
course, I went up the river and stayed there the next
day and then came back. When I returned a courier
had got in and said the Running Water stage had been
held up and some horses had been stolen. We were
just on the point of going to Red Cloud. Gen. Crook
GROUARD’S OWN STORY. 63
was along. The latter got into an ambulance. I was
on horseback, and two other men were with us. We
had to go past the scene of the robbery, and past the
ranch where the horses were stolen. We passed on,
and finally saw the parties who had stolen the horses,
and Bevins was with them. I took the two men and
started after them to overtake them, and Bevins, know-
ing it was me, pulled up his horse until I came close
to him, and said:
“What do you want?”
“I want those horses, and am after you fellows,”
I replied. -
He says, pointing: “There are the horses; you
keep on after us, and I will drop the horses.”
So I followed until I overtook the horses and
turned them back, and that was the last I saw of
Bevins for years. I heard a good deal about his work,
and finally learned he had been caught, tried, sentenced
and served his term out. The authorities could not
bring anything against him about this stage robbery.
He served out a sentence of three years, and I never
saw him again until 1886, when we met at Buffalo,
Wyoming. I came down to Buffalo from McKinney one
day and went up to John Fisher’s place. I went to the
door and saw somebody sitting at a table, and I en-
tered the place. The door was on a direct line with the
man at the table, and who should it be but Bevins. He
had his back to me, but I knew Bevins. I sat down and
ate my dinner, and I looked at him, but he never
turned to look at me. After I had finished my meal I
64 GROUARD'S OWN STORY.
went out, and just as I passed through the door Bevins
came after me. I walked slowly down the street and
he caught up with me.
I said: “When did you come here?”
“I just came in,” he replied.
“Where are you going?” *
“To the Black Hills,” he answered.
“How did you come tº -
He said: “Afoot.”
He told me he had served out his term, and was
pretty near dead, and wanted to go to the Black Hills
as soon as he could. He said he was going afoot. I
told him I would give him a horse, but he said he did
not want it. Then I told him to go by stage; but he
said he was going to walk, though he had plenty of
money.
“I don’t want any one to know I am here,” he said.
“Anything out of the road 4” I asked.
“No, I just want to get through to the hills as
quick as I can,” he replied.
I walked a mile with him and offered him the horse
I was leading, but he would not take it. He went on
to Spearfish and that was the last I saw of him —on the
hills the other side of Buffalo. IIe said if he was all
right when he reached the Hills he would write to me.
He died two weeks afterward at the Spearfish Hotel, and
that ended his career. He was between forty-five and
fifty years old at the time of his death. He was an odd
man, any way you could take him. He would do any-
thing in the world for a friend. He was a perfect type
of the western hard man of his time.
CHAPTER W.
THE HELENA FLOUR FAMINE.
The flour famine in Helena was in '68, the last year
I was with McCartney. We had been freighting from
Benton to Helena. The steamboat was running up the
Missouri to Helena. All the freighting was done that
way that year. After the freighting season was over,
McCartney sent us down to the forks of the Gallatin and
Madison, at the head of the Missouri. Sent us over there
to winter. I was in charge of the train at that time.
It was a very hard winter. We did not know anything
about the suffering for food, as we had plenty of it.
I had been to town several times during the early
part of the winter, but as the snow lay very deep along
about Christmas, I could not get to Helena. When I did
get in, it was about the middle of February. There was
a regular famine there. Flour would have sold at its
own weight in gold. You could not get it for that.
Everything was in proportion. There was nothing to eat
in the town. Everybody was crazy for something to eat.
A freighter, a Frenchman, went to work and brought a
load of flour from Blackfoot City, Montana, into Helena.
He hired thirty men and gave then five dollars a day to
-66 THE HELENA FLOUR FAMINE.
tramp snow across the mountains. There was one load
brought in. He had a regular old prairie schooner, the
tires of which were eight inches wide. He hired these
men to tramp and shovel snow, and got this flour to
Helena. He was paying five dollars a day for the men,
but when he did get the flour in, it went as fast as he
could hand it out, and the people would pay any price
for it. He never sold a sack of the entire load for less
than five hundred dollars. How much over that amount
he got, we never knew. -
We had several thousand sacks at camp, and I
brought them in and sold them for two hundred and fifty
dollars a sack. Of course it was nothing in my pocket.
McCartney got the whole benefit of it. I had charge of
the outfit. There were four of us, I believe. I cleared
quite a sum, and turned it over to the bank for him.

|
№ssae
AN INDIAN RUNNER.
& N
Or
3,e

CHAPTER WI.
LIVER EATING JOHNSON.
In the spring of ’69 I came down to Seven Mile
creek, seven miles from Helena, and went to breaking
horses for the Holliday Stage Company. I broke horses
there all that fall, or close to fall, and it was during
this time that the Blackfeet Indians commenced to get
ugly. The people had to do something to protect the
outside settlers. It was at this time that the Montana
militia was organized. I came down with them into the
camp about forty miles from Diamond City. Huntley
had got the contract to run the pony express from
Diamond City to Fort Hall on the Missouri river, and I
hired out as carrier. The militia went into camp about
forty miles from Diamond City on our right, on the
head of the Mussellshell river. I came down while
they were getting things ready, and they were to over-
take us. I was there at the time the militia were in
camp, and camped right there with them. I was wait-
ing for C. C. Huntley to come down. He and his party
were to come on into camp, and we were to start out
from there, and some of the militia were to go there
with us as an escort. I was there about a month with
68 LIVER EATING: JOHNSON.
this militia before the Huntley party did come down.
There was an escort of twenty men ordered to go with
Ul S.
There was one of these militiamen who afterwards
became quite a notorious character, and is so at the
present day, being known by the cognomen of “Liver
Eating Johnson.” At present he is marshal of Red
Lodge, Montana. One day it was pretty hot, and
an antelope came close to us. Johnson says:
“Wait a minute ; I will kill that antelope.”
He shot at it four or five times and missed it, and
the antelope still stood there. That made him kind of
hot, for he was a pretty good shot, and he says :
“I will eat your liver out if I do kill you,” and he
kept his word.
After he killed it he ate its liver. He was
blood from one end to the other. That is how he got
his name. Everybody called him “Liver Eating John-
son’’ after that. Huntley, I think it was, gave him the
Ila, Iſle.
We went on then to Fort Hall on that trip and
fixed everything up, and turned around and came back
over the same road. When we got back the militia had
disbanded, and we went through to Diamond City. It
was about a week afterwards that I took the first
mail through, leading one horse packed and riding an-
other. The distance was about two hundred and eleven
miles from Diamond City to Fort Hall. It took me
four days and nights to make the trip. I made one trip
down one week and the other week made the trip back.
LIVER EATING: JOHNSON. 69
Diamond City was a mining camp — not much of a
place. I think it was in November the Blackfeet cap-
tured me. I had not made many trips. I was going
from Diamond City to Fort Hall when the redskins got
II) 6.
[Grouard says that as he neared Judith Springs he had
to pass along a ridge, with little points of rocks standing
here and there. As he crossed the ridge his attention
was attracted by an immense herd of Buffalo grazing to
his left, and being intent on watching the animals, he
had paid no attention to the trail before him. Suddenly,
and without a moment’s warning, he was surrounded by
almost twenty Blackfeet Indians in full war costume, one
of whom yelled to him in good English, “Hold up!”
Grouard says he was incapable just then of doing
anything else. It was his first experience with Indians,
and he was frightened nearly to death. In a scabbard
on his horse he carried an eighty-dollar Henry rifle, and
had two revolvers stuck in a belt about his waist ; but
the possession of the weapons never crossed his mind.
He had imagined he was armed well enough to kill all
the Indians in the country; but matters assumed a differ-
ent light when he sat on his horse in the midst of twenty
of the worst looking cut-throats he had ever heard of or
read about. The redskins seemed to enjoy poor Grouard’s
fright and discomfiture, but did not keep him long in
doubt as to their intentions toward him.
They partly pushed and partly pulled him off his
horse, and stripped him of every vestige of clothing.
70 LIVER EATING JOHNSON.
Then they pointed in the direction he had come and told
him to go. Emboldened by the fact that they were not
going to take his life, Grouard asked them to give him
one of the blankets they had taken from him. For an
answer they mounted their horses, drew their quirts and
lashed their defenseless victim until his body was filled
with gaping gashes, from which the blood flowed in
streams. Realizing that his only chance of escape lay in
flight, Grouard struck out across the sandy plain, the In-
dians following for over two hundred yards, raining blow
after blow upon his bleeding head and body.
Darkness was settling over the earth. The sun had
sunk behind the western hills about the time the Indians
captured Grouard. The night was warm, and scarcely a
breath of air was stirring. It was nearly seventy miles
by the nearest known route from Judith Springs to Fort
Hall.
The country was covered with patches of cactus and
prickly pears. Into these the fleeing man rushed, lost to
all sense of pain in the haunting fear of death. His
imagination peopled the semi-darkness with pursuing sav-
ages on horseback. He had no hope but the present
chance of escape.
On he sped, and on, covering mile after mile of the
distance he must travel to find safety at the fort. He
realized nothing but fear of pursuit, and that fear lent
wings to his feet.
If, during that awful flight, he stopped for breath,
he does not remember it. He had tasted no food since
the previous morning, yet he knew not a pang of hunger.
LIVER EATING JOHNSON. 71
No liquid had passed his lips since the preceding noon,
but he would not have slackened his pace to slake his
thirst if the purest of springs had invited him.
Onward into the cruel cacti, over the prickly pear
vines, fled Grouard, the phantom horsemen lashing their
steeds into a foam in a vain endeavor to overtake him.
Suddenly he stops.
Like a flash through the heavens the black veil of
night had been lifted. -
He could not tell at first whether he were waking
from a horrid dream or had lost his reason.
One hundred yards ahead of him stood Fort Hall,
and as he gazed the heavy gates swung open and a man
appeared.
“In that single moment,” says Grouard, “I realized
all.”
At his side flowed the river; behind him were the
familiar cottonwoods and willow groves.
A trembling sensation seized upon the muscles of his
body.
His brain was in a whirl; it was getting dark again.
He raised his arms high above his head and tried to
shout.
He knew no more.
Four days later Grouard opened his eyes. The first
face he recognized was that of “Liver Eating Johnson.”
His condition was pitiful. His body was covered with
festering sores, and his feet were swollen twice their
natural size. His limbs were so stiff and heavy that he
72 LIVER EATING JOHNSON.
could not raise them, and he had not the power to utter
an audible sound.
For three long months he lay upon his bed of furs,
suffering the tortures of hell itself. “Liver Eating John-
son” nursed him with all the care and solicitude of a
mother. The needles from the cacti which had entered
his fresh as he had rushed through them in his efforts
to escape the Blackfeet, worked their way out of his
limbs through the festering sores, some of them appear-
ing at the surface of the flesh as high up as the knees.
—AUTHOR.]

CHAPTER VII.
GROUARD’s FIRST INDIAN FIGHT.
After I had recovered from the sickness which fol.
lowed my experience with the Indians, prickly pears and
cactus, there was a report that the redskins had attacked
a white camp three miles above Fort Hall. They had
the camp surrounded and had the men corralled in a
cabin. The men in the cabin had dug a cellar under
the structure and tunneled from there to the bank of the
river, and could pass out from the cabin to the river
without being seen. The man who brought the news to
us had stolen out through this passageway and come
down the river three miles to the fort. The Indians at-
tacked the cabin at daylight the following morning.
Part of us went with the help-seeker and rowed up
the other side of the river, keeping under the bank all
the way so that the Indians could not see us. Crossing
over we went through the tunnel and got into the cabin
before daybreak, and when the Indians attacked the
cabin the next morning there were over twenty of us in
there. When they did attack us we were ready for
them. We killed eleven of them. There were not over
seventy or seventy-five in the attacking party. They
74 GROUARD’S FIRST INDIAN FIGHT.
stayed with us for about an hour. When it became
known to them that there was a large number of us in
the cabin, they began to try to fight. We tore down
the bars from the door and charged on them. There
was not a man of our party hurt. We ran them up the
hills as far as we could, killing the eleven spoken of.

WILD HOG, HIGH CHIEF OF THE CHEYENNES.
||Sl


CHAPTER VIII.
CAPTURED BY THE SIOUX.
A short time after this I was put on the mail line
from Fort Hall to Fort Peck, at the mouth of Milk
river. Fort Hall is one hundred and forty miles from
Fort Peck, up the river. I had to take care of the
mail. Over to Milk river it was forty miles, and down
the river it was one hundred and forty-five miles. I
carried mail up one week and down the next. They
could not get anybody to carry this mail because the
Sioux were committing depredations down at the mouth
of Milk river; so I took the two routes. That was in
the spring. I carried all that summer and next fall,
till the first of January. It was about the second of
January, and I was making my last trip. It took me
two days to go from the bend of Milk River to the
station, and generally two days down. This station was
run by a Frenchman ; a trapper and hunter. I don't
remember his name.
I went from Fort Hall to the bend of Milk river.
Between that point and Fort Peck there is a big open
flat. Through the center of this flat there is a gulch.
In the rainy season the water comes through there.
'76 CAPTURED BY THE SIOUX.
There are large trees in the center of it, and right
straight down and up again, this gulch is twenty or
twenty-five feet deep. Anyhow it could not be seen
for any distance. It was about 3 o'clock in the after-
noon when I reached this gulch. The snow was coming
from the south right in my face. I had on a big buf-
falo overcoat, a handkerchief tied around my throat, and
had big buffalo mitts on my hand that were tied on at
the elbows, and had on buffalo leggins and moccasins.
I was riding one horse and leading another. There had
been no indication of Indians at all, and I was not look-
ing for any. When I was in the gulch – just as my
horse started up the other side — the animal I was on
jumped, and the next thing I knew somebody hit me
over the back. That was the first indication I had of
Indians.
They had waited for me to come into the gulch and
catch me when I was crossing. Before I realized what
was going on, they had secured my horses and pulled me to
the ground, and were trying to take my coat off. They
already had my gun. I never thought of having a gun. I
was rattled, or something. They were using me pretty
hard. I had not come in contact with the Sioux before,
and could not understand a word they said. One Indian
was trying to get my coat off, and another one was try-
ing to shoot me. I was keeping the Indian who was
trying to get my coat off between me and the fellow
who carried the gun. I don’t know how long the strug-
gle lasted. It was but a short time, when an Indian
rode up to the top of the gulch on horseback. We were
CAPTURED BY THE SIOUX. 77
en top of the gulch by this time, and this Indian came
up on horseback and said something to the Indian I was
trying to keep out of the way of—the one with the gun.
I couldn’t understand what he said. The first thing I
knew, the Indian who was on horseback dismounted, went
up to the one who had the gun, and knocked him down
with a heavy bow he carried in his hand. The Indian
who had hold of me, as quick as the other Indian was
knocked down, left me alone and went off to one side.
There were fourteen Indians in the party, I think. I saw
it was a change for the better with me. They talked
among themselves for some time. The fellow who was
knocked down seemed to give up. The Indian who had
been on horseback was talking, but I couldn't understand
what he said. The fellow who was doing the talking
seemed to be the head man. The one with the gun
went off towards the river. After he went away, the
leader pulled out his pipe and sat down, and motioned
for me to be seated. I obeyed, and after he had got
through smoking, he made a motion to me that he was
going. I could understand his signs first rate. He made
a motion for me to get on a horse, and we started for
the mouth of Milk river. On our way to the Indian
village I learned his name was Sitting Bull. He told
me by signs who he was. He also told me where his
village was. It was on the head of Bark creek, which
stream empties into the Missouri above the mouth of
Poplar creek. We camped on Milk river the first night
after my capture, and left the next morning. The In-
dians had taken everything away from me and cut the
mail sack open and rifled it. We were traveling contin-
uously for three days before we got into the hostile camp.
Af
OHAPTER IX.
TAIKEN TO THE HOSTILE CAMP.
Grouard’s entrance into the Sioux village did not
have a very soothing effect upon his nerves. From the
moment of his capture he had been constantly looking
forward to the end of his troubles in a death by tor-
ture. His knowledge of the Indians had been somewhat
limited, it is true ; but his former experience as a cap-
tive did not tend to lighten the terrible load that
weighed down his young heart. He knew that he had
no means of communication with his captors ; he did
not even understand their simplest signs, nor compre-
hend a word they said. IIis position was a terrible one,
but his fate, whatever it might be, was only conjectural.
Several of his captors escorted him through the
main portion of the village, and it appeared to Grouard
that every tepi had been emptied of its inmates to wit-
ness his arrival. What seemed particularly perplexing
to him was "the silence maintained by - the redmen.
They crowded about the animal he rode, and impeded
its progress in their anxiety to look into the captive's
face ; but they gave no sign of anger, and raised no.
shout of triumph.
READY FOR THE DANCE.

TAKEN TO THE HOSTILE CAMIP. 79.
“It is the calm,” thought Grouard, “that precedes
the storm. They are reserving their shouts till the fires
are lighted about the stake to which they intend to
burn me.”
After what seemed an age to the captive, his
guards stopped in front of a large lodge, and he was
dismounted and led inside. Once within the tepi, he
glanced hastily about to view his surroundings. His
eyes were sore and swollen from exposure, and he was
nearly dead from the cold, but he immediately discov-
ered that he was not the only occupant of the lodge.
Almost within touching distance from him, his eyes riv-
eted on Grouard's face, stood the savage who had
struck to the earth the Indian who was making an at-
tempt to kill him when his capture was effected. A
bright fire burned on the ground in the middle of the
lodge, and reflected itself upon the massive face of the
tepi’s owner. For the second time in his life Grouard
stood face to face with the most redoubtable Sioux war-
rior of the age. He was the guest of no less a person-
age than Sitting Bull himself.
At that time the Sioux chief was thirty-six years
old, and in the prime of a magnificent savage manhood.
His head was crowned with a profusion of long, black
hair, which he wore brushed from a low forehead. IIis
face was massive and swarthy. His eyes were large and
expressive, while the mouth was large and the lips thin,
indicating cruelty. His shoulders were broad and heavy,
and his body tapered symmetrically. His wearing ap-
Parel consisted of breech-clout and leggins, a buffalo
S0 TAKEN TO THE HOSTILE CAMP.
robe doing service as an overcoat. Grouard states that
in all the years of his enforced residence with the Sioux
he never knew Sitting Bull to rise to the dignity of a
boiled shirt, although photographs said to have been
taken of the chief in later years show him to have
grown somewhat aesthetic and particular in this regard.
The only bodily defect Grouard noticed about Sit-
ting Bull was a well-defined limp. The cause of this, he
afterward discovered, was a wound in the left foot. The
story of his receiving it is short and not out of place
here:
The Sioux and Crows were constantly at war, and
the latter were ever on the watch for their merciless
and raiding enemy. During one of these scalping ex-
cursions, two war parties became tangled up on the
banks of the Porcupine. The Sioux chief, Sitting Bull,
ever ready to set an example to the young braves of
his tribe and keep aflame the terror the Crows asso-
ciated with his name, challenged the Crow leader to
single combat. While the braves on both sides watched
the progress of the battle, the two chiefs struggled for
the mastery. The Crow, at last convinced that he was
over-matched, and fearing the stigma of being overcome
by Sitting Bull, seized a rifle and deliberately shot at
the latter. In his rage and excitement, the Crow warrior
took the worst sort of aim and made the lowest possible
score, as the ball caught the Sioux beneath the toes and
furrowed its way on a straight line through the sole of
the foot. The next instant Sitting Bull had plunged his
knife to the hilt into his adversary's breast, and the
TAKEN TO THE HOSTILE CAMP. 81
battle was ended. When the Sioux chiefs wound healed
the bottom of the foot contracted, and Sitting Bull, al-
though soon recovering his wonted health, never placed
his left foot on terra firma afterward without limping.
Sometime previous to the event just narrated, Sitting
Bull, while battling against the forces led by Gen.
Harney at Lookout Buttes, on the Little Missouri, re-
ceived a terrible wound through the body, and although
the great medicine men of his tribe shook their heads
and twirled their thumbs and despaired of saving the
life of their patient, Sitting Bull pulled through and
lived to fight many battles afterwards.
These circumstances, although unknown to Grouard
at the time he found himself face to face with Sitting
Bull in the latter's lodge, could not have heightened the
captive's terror one iota. He had heard enough of Sit-
ting Bull to know that he was the unrelenting foe of
the white race. The reputation of the wily savage for
cruelty was the theme at every camp fire. No wonder,
then, that Grouard expected nothing but a lingering
death by torture at the stake.
Great was his surprise, therefore, when Sitting Bull
motioned him to lie down upon a pile of buffalo robes
at one side of the lodge, an invitation Grouard was not
loath to accept. The glowing fire, the warmth within
the lodge, and the soft, warm robes — these influences
added to the exhaustion of bodily and mental forces —
broke the charm that had driven sleep from his excited
brain, and his senses were almost instantly steeped in
forgetfulness.
82 TAKEN TO THE HOSTILE CAMP.
While he slept his fate was settled. At the council
which was called that night, Sitting Bull's voice was the
only one raised in behalf of the unconscious captive.
While in his dreams Grouard was again passing through
all the agonies that had come to him since his capture
and speculating upon the terrible ordeal that awaited
him, this man, this savage, he whom civilization denied
every generous impulse, feeling of pity, quality of mercy,
was disputing with the mighty counselors of the Sioux
nation over the disposition to be made of the pale-faced
Stranger.
For some reason that will never be known, Sitting
Bull had formed a sudden attachment for Grouard, and
later developments prove, though the Sioux chief gave
no earnest of his intention to anyone, that he had deter-
mined not only to spare his captive’s life, but to throw
his protecting influence around him forever after. So it
happened, when the council, headed by Gall and No.
Neck (both able and beloved warriors), decided on the
death of Grouard, that Sitting Bull at once arose and
said :
“The coups of Sitting Bull are like the stars, shin-
ing and almost numberless. I look ; I act ; I talk after-
wards. That which I will, is so. The captive in the
Sioux lodge is resting on the robes that Sitting Bull
has taken with his own hand from the buffalo, and it is
my will that the captive shall not die. When Little
Assiniboine was taken from his people, it was Sitting
Bull who bore him to his lodge and made him his
brother. So with the paleface within the lodge of Sit-
TAKEN TO THE HOSTILE_CAMP. 83
ting Bull this night. He is Standing Bear, the brother
of Sitting Bull. My will is spoken.”
This speech was received in silence. Little Assini-
boine, then grown to manhood, loved his foster brother
better than his life. His word was law. When Sitting
Bull had taken him from the lodge of his parents during
a battle between the Assiniboines and the Sioux, the lit-
tle fellow had become the special care and pride of the
Sioux warrior. To the tender care of White Cow, Sitting
Bull's sister, the little captive had been entrusted. She
reared him as she afterward did her own, and in time
Little Assiniboine became one of the most powerful war-
riors in the nation of his adoption.
The rise of Little Assiniboine had been a source of
great pride to Sitting Bull, and his wisdom in sparing the
child's life was a theme never forgotten by his relatives
and friends. Sitting Bull was not a great orator, but
what he lacked in this particular he made up in diplo-
macy. He was as shrewd as he was cunning. His
speeches in council were always blunt, but convincing be-
cause he ever worked upon his hearers through those ave-
nues by which they had reached success. Therefore,
without drawing a parallel, he adroitly reminded the wise
men of the council that the course he had pursued in
Little Assiniboine's case had been fruitful of much good
to the Sioux nation. He left them to infer his meaning,
that the sparing of Grouard’s life would furnish a similar
cause for congratulation.
So far as the council was concerned, the determina-
tion of Sitting Bull to adopt Grouard, settled the matter.
84 TAKEN TO THE HOSTILE CAMP.
What view individual members of the tribe took of it
was another consideration. But Sitting Bull had thought
of that also. As a result, poor Grouard was kept a close
guarded prisoner for sixteen months. At the end of two
years he was able to converse in the Sioux tongue like a
native, and had made himself proficient in the language
of signs.

TWO INDIAN BEAUTIES.

CHAPTER X.
THE KINDNESS OF WHITE COW.
Grouard himself says that no human being will ever
know the horrors that constantly surrounded him. Lit-
tle by little he managed to pick up a word here and
there of the strange gargon of his savage associates.
Sitting Bull, in order to secure his captive's perfect
safety, sent him to the lodge of his mother and sister,
and to the latter, says the scout, more than to any
earthly power, is he indebted for the preservation of his
life. - -
The first fifteen years of his life had been passed
under the influence of a loving foster mother. The next
four years were spent amid scenes such as the Ameri-
can continent will never witness again. Inured to
hardship and deprivation, with a stature of six feet and
a constitution that mocked at the ills of flesh, he felt
himself able to meet every trial that frontier life en-
tailed. Yet, he found himself now, at nineteen years of
age, in the center of a sea of savagery, cut off from
every hope that had risen in his breast and debarred
even of his liberty.
There was a practical side to this enforced exist-
86 THE KINDNESS OF WITHITE COIV.
ence, also. He had never attempted, and never imag-
ined he would ever be compelled to attempt, to live
on meat rations solely. The Sioux had no other wish
than to live so. But Grouard found himself failing
daily from this cause. Ravenously hungry, the meat
diet, minus salt or pepper, did not supply the substitute
or satisfy his cravings for bread, though he ate to Sa-
tiety. What made matters worse, he knew nothing of
the Sioux language, and therefore could not make his
conditions or wants known. His waking hours were
filled with a desire for bread. He thought of the crust
he had thrown away, and lamented his extravagance.
At night his sleep was disturbed by dreams in which he
saw huge loaves of golden-hued bread floating through
space almost within reach of his outstretched arms.
And often he awoke with a start just as he was prepar-
ing to sit down to a feast of biscuit and coffee. He
grew pale and emaciated. He was in a delirium of tor-
ment. He felt that his mind was getting enfeebled.
He thought Cf escape, but his guards never left him.
He contemplated self-destruction, but neither means nor
opportunity presented themselves.
Then he was stricken down with a strange sickness.
How long he was ill he did not know ; but one day he
awoke to the sudden consciousness that there was burn-
ing bread within the lodge. He sat up, weak as he
was, to reassure himself that he was not dreaming.
White Cow, the sister of Sitting Bull, was baking some
dough in the ashes of the tepi fire. He stretched out
his arms with an imploring gesture. The savage woman
THE KINDNESS OF WHITE COW. '87
nodded her head and gave him a portion of the half-
baked dough. He grasped it in both his thin hands and
fell back upon his bed of robes. The knowledge that
he had the bread overcame even his desire to eat it,
and he clung to it with a joy that was childish. White
Cow noticed it, and smiled, and soon she nearly fright-
ened Grouard’s wits out of him by placing some coffee
in a cloth and pounding it preparatory to placing it in
a can of water over the fire.
From that day on a new life opened to poor Grou-
ard. He lived again, and hoped; and then it was he made
a firm resolve to turn the term of his captivity to good
account. His anxiety about bread, as well as the desire
for it, grew less and less, until finally he ceased to care
for it. It was many months before he knew how White
Cow had secured the flour and coffee, but it came about
in this wise:
In the spring and fall the Indians came out from the
agencies and brought small quantities of coffee, flour,
sugar, salt and pepper with them. For these articles they
would charge and get fabulous prices; that is, they would
trade the commodities off for ponies, furs and mules.
White Cow divined at once the cause of Grouard’s
decline, and some Indian traders very opportunely came
to the Sioux village with provisions. Unknown to the
others, this generous-hearted Indian woman traded off one
mule that was worth $250 for less than a third of a bag
of flour, and another animal, whose value was nearly as
great, for small quantities of coffee, sugar, salt and pep-
per, and these articles she hid away and allowed no one
88 THE KINDNESS OF WHITE COW.
to touch any part of except Grouard. The latter says
the flour and coffee lasted a long time, and undoubtedly
saved his life. When the flour was finally used up, White
Cow would gather wild turnips and pound them into a
pulp, and then make it into porridge.
In this manner Grouard managed to gradually wean
himself from the use of breadstuffs, and toward the end
of his captivity he had grown to look upon the use of
bread as entirely unnecessary. In fact, upon regaining
his freedom, he had a hard time with his appetite and
stomach over the bread problem, and was forced to ac-
quire a liking for it as if it were some species of edible
that nothing but custom and civilization demanded the
consumption of.

CLOUD’S PEAK, HIGHEST POINT IN BIG HORN RANGE.



CHAPTER XI.
*===
GROU ARD IMARES A TEN-STRIKE.
For sixteen months Grouard was closely guarded in
the Sioux village. With his better understanding of the
Sioux tongue he found himself taking a lively interest
in Indian traditions, manners and customs, and he also
discovered that the Indians grew more and more friendly
and confidential as they witnessed his eagerness to enter
into all the minor details of their mode of living. Little
Assiniboine and White Eagle, the latter a cousin of Sit-
ting Bull, were Grouard’s sole male companions. In
reality they were his guard, and were as constant in
their devotion to the orders of Sitting Bull regarding
the captive as it were possible for human beings to be.
It was customary in the early spring to move the
village toward the north to meet the vast herds of buf-
falo that came down, and from that time on to the last
of September or first of October the village would be
almost constantly on the move. In the fall the Sioux
generally, if not always, made it a point to locate their
village on the Belle Fourche or Little Missouri rivers,
where small game was found in abundance. It was dur-
ing one of these village-moving times that Grouard
90 GROUARD IMAKES A TEN-STRIKE.
made a ten-strike and established his reputation as a
marksman.
The Indian, as everybody knows, is nothing if not a
gambler, and one day a large number of the Sioux were
engaged in the enjoyment of their ruling passion, while
the others went ahead to establish the village at a
more favorable point for game. Grouard was with the
loitering crowd. The Indians had begun to realize that
the pale-face was really one of their own number, and
Sitting Bull, in a burst of generosity, had given the
scout an old flint-lock gun. Grouard says no one knows
with what emotion he hugged this old muzzle-loading
shooting iron to his breast. It was the first firearm he
had been allowed to even grasp in his hands for nearly
a year and a half, and he cleaned it up as well as pos-
sible, preparatory to taking a shot.
While the gambling was at its height, a big, fine deer
came running over the brow of an adjacent hill, and
made straight for the place where the Indians were squat-
ted. Nearly all of them saw the animal at the same
time, but having laid their arms aside, they were taken at
a disadvantage for shooting. As soon as the deer got
within what Grouard considered the range of his old flint-
lock, and with the eyes of half the village upon him, he
drew a quick bead and fired. The deer fell dead in its
tracks. ---
At first there was an exclamation of surprise, then
an outburst of admiration. The Indians, including Sitting
Bull himself, had not believed the gun capable of killing
a jack rabbit at a distance of ten paces, while Grouard
GROUA IPD MAKES A TEN-STRIKE. 91
had used it to great advantage at two hundred yards and
made a remarkable running shot. .*
When Sitting Bull heard of the incident, he was
very much pleased, and immediately presented his adopted
brother Standing Bear with a powder-and-lead muzzle-
loading Hawkins gun. All the bucks were thereafter anx-
ious to have Grouard accompany them on their hunting
trips, and in this way he developed into one of the best
shots the country has ever produced.
Once the ice was broken, Grouard found no further
bar to his outgoings and incomings. He roamed the wilds
at will, and, being a natural plainsman, acquired a thor-
ough and intimate knowledge of every mountain pass,
crag, ravine and canyon in the great stretch of country
now known as Wyoming, Dakota and Montana.
Having thus familiarized himself with the mountains
and valleys, it is no wonder that his knowledge should
be of incalculable value to the government. It can be
stated without fear of contradiction that Frank Grouard’s
knowledge of western topography is more minute than
that of any other man in the United States, a recom-
mendation in itself that eagle plumes the possessor for
the guidance of any force on the perilous undertakings
that have marked the manouvres of every commanding
'officer who has campaigned in the mid-west against the
natural foes to safety and settlement.
As a rule, the Indians place little dependence on
appearances. Their reasoning is based upon experience
rather than speculation. Their hatred can be overcome,
but their prejudice never. This is especially true of the
&
92 GROUARD IMAKES A TEN-STRIKE.
Sioux. Against the whites they have waged war in-
stinctively, because they know the Caucasian race estab-
lish a new order of things through their conquests. Civ-
ilization to them is synonymous with slavery. It is the
present and not the future that concerns them most
deeply. Like children, they cannot grasp the idea of a
future except through mystification. In the burial of
their dead they make ample provision for the self-pro-
tection of the departed by placing the implements of
war upon the bier ; but they also provide for the dead
man's temporal necessities. They do not believe the
dead warrior awakes to consciousness in the want of
those things which are kept sacred to his memory. This
spark of divinity in the soul of the savage is but the
echo of immortality — the acknowledgment of Deity. In
their prayers they address themselves not to a power
they feel, but to an object they see. Pope expresses
their condition exactly: -
“Lo, the poor Indian whose untutored mind
Séés God in clouds, or hears Him in the wind.”
It is not strange, therefore, that Grouard was slow
in overcoming the prejudice existing against him. His
sixteen months’ confinement had instilled into his mind
two governing characteristics of the Sioux — silence and
observation. By an almost strict observance of the for-
mer, natural, because of his lack of opportunity to ac-
quire a language that was spoken about and not to him
—he rapidly developed the latter quality. He therefore
mastered the language of signs in an incredibly short
time, and this served him as a key to the Sioux man-
OLD CROW, A “FRIENDLY.”

GROUARD MAKES A TENSTRIKE, 93
ner of speech. And it must be borne in mind that
the Sioux language contains six dialects, or rather, that
the Sioux people give expression to a sentiment in six
different modes of speech.
In their councils the orators confine themselves to
a particular manner of speech that is little understood
by any but the heriditary chiefs of the nation. Their
most solemn deliberations are those heard but not com-
prehended by the braves who are not permitted to en-
ter the charmed circle. In this particular they occupy
the same plane as the white man who knows not a
word or sign of Sioux—the deliberation’s result must
be interpreted to them. Grouard familiarized himself
with every phase of the Sioux tongue, but it required
years of study to accomplish so herculean a task, and
had it not been for the friendship of Sitting Bull,
Little Assiniboine, Black Kettle, Big Nose, No Neck,
Gall, Four Horses and others of the head men of the
nation, his labors would have ended in a confused com-
prehension of a language seemingly without beginning
or end. - -
Grouard had gone by the name of Standing Bear
for a year and a half before he discovered who had
named him or what circumstance had suggested the curi-
ous title. It will be remembered that when Sitting
Bull’s party captured Grouard, he was wrapped in a
huge fur overcoat, wore leggins of the same mater-
ial, and had on a fur cap that completely hid his head,
and wore a pair of gloves that extended half way to
his elbows. In his struggles to throw off the Indian
94 GROUARD IMAKES A TEN STRIKE.
who was attempting to pull the bear coat from his back
and at the same time hold him between himself and
the Indian who was trying to shoot him, Grouard was
at first mistaken by Sitting Bull for a huge bear, stand-
ing upright, fighting its would-be captors.
The Sioux chief was a great joker, and Grouard's
resemblance to a bear tickled him mightily. It was
probably this fact that saved the captive from a terrible
fate, also, although it did not have the effect of leaving
him in possession of his warm wraps.
Sitting Bull never explained to Grouard his reason
for preserving his life and adopting him as a brother ;
but Little Assiniboine often recalled the Sioux chief’s
notable speech in behalf of Grouard at the council fire
on the night the captive arrived in the village.
From the fact that a bear will reach out after its prey
and hug it close to its body, the Indians call it a
“grabber;” and so, while Sitting Bull had christened
Grouard “Standing Bear,” he was as generally known
among the Indians by his nickname of the “Grabber.”
CELAPTER XII.
INDIAN COURTSHIP.
There are people in this world who cannot appre-
ciate the fact that a Savage is capable of those finer
sensibilities so much dwelt upon by sentimentalists and
writers of fiction among the civilized nations. ,
They are perfectly willing to ascribe instinct and even
knowledge to their favorite horse or dog; tell of the
almost human actions and speech of a parrot ; enlarge
upon the understanding of a tame monkey and vouch-
safe to the necessary, harmless house tabby an affec-
tion truly pathetic and surprising. But, somehow or
other, these good people are loth to believe that the
Indian youth or the aged savage has any conception of
sentiment or any of the attributes of love.
To be able to appreciate this virtue in the abor-
igine, it is necessary to consider the fact that Indian
tradition, like customs of some other nations, has so far cir-
cumscribed the life of woman that her sphere is narrowed
down to one of servitude. Unmated, she occupies noth-
ing but a negative position. From her infancy she is
taught to resist any and all advances from her male
companions, and even in the courtship that comes to her
96 INDIAN COURTSHIP.
at an uncertain age (calculated by our “civilized" calen-
dar), all her acquiescences are imperitive denials. No
self-respecting lady of the Sioux pursuasion would be
guilty" of murmuring “yes” to the guttural appeal of the
dusky swain who litterally lays siege to her father’s
lodge or follows her footsteps like the phantom is said
to follow the guilty.
The Sioux women are, according to the traditional
Sioux code of morals, moral. That is, they are given a
standard of virtue and live up to it. It may not meet
the approval of the orthodox whites, and it may be
somewhat less rigid than the rule prescribed in Turkey,
but it nevertheless serves its own purpose and obliterates
among the savages one of the greatest scourges that
afflicts our boasted civilization.
There is no “social evil” among the Sioux.
Inasmuch as the Indian maiden cannot consent,
abduction pure and simple is the art generally employed
by the amorous swain in search of a companion for his
lodge.
Now, what would be considered the depth of degre-
dation to our moral sensibilities, is applauded and coun-
tenanced by the redmen. For instance, White Hair, a
rising young warrior, becomes enamored of Half Moon,
the marriageable daughter of Big Storm. Tradition, as
well as his inclination, tells him how to accomplish his
purpose. She may be his by purchase, but in such a
case all the heroism vanishes. Twenty other young men
of the nation are as enamored of Half Moon as is White
Hair. Possession means ownership, and tradition has
INDIAN COURTSHIP. 97
woven the halo of glory over those who dare take that
which the one taken denies.
White Hair, therefore, has but one mode of pro-
cedure. He arranges his lodge for the reception of Half
Moon, and does not even take the maiden into his con-
fidence about the matter. He speaks to her of his de-
sire, but she says him nay. He is wrapped from toes to
eyebrows in his blanket, and, in the darkness Half Moon
knows him not from the other numerous suitors who look,
act and talk just like him. He watches her exit from
her father's lodge and importunes her ; he follows her
footsteps to the water course and pours his burning
words into her ears. He is the sentimental sentinel
always on the qui vive to trip her with a half consent.
This once gained, he distorts it into a promise pure and
and simple. Some night he lays in wait, and with just
that show of force — no more — to quiet her struggles,
bears her off in triumph to his lodge. She then becomes
his particular property, and can be taken from him only
in the same manner that he has taken her — not an un-
COll] liſh OIl OCCUlt’ I’ 6” In Ce.
Here again comes in a traditional arrangement that
right reverends and wrong reverends will condemn to
the top of their bent. White Hair, on the morn follow-
ing his abduction of Half Moon, may see fit to divorce
her, and there end the whole transaction. He simply
sends her to her father's lodge, whither she wends her
way in silence. No disgrace or stigma attaches to her
from her enforced obedience to the young brave's will.
He, according to his tradition, has won a victory — a
98 INDIAN COURTSHIP.
coup than which there is none greater, and the code of
Sioux morals permits him to boast of his conquest dur-
ing the remainder of his days. -
Do the numerous other young braves desist from
their courtship of the daughter of Big Storm 2 Nay,
gentle reader. In course of time she is again abducted,
and perhaps spends the remainder of her life in the
lodge of the brave whom she learns to love. Platonic 3
Well, scarcely ; but then we are looking at these matters
through the lens of civilization. The Sioux have prac-
ticed this mode of courtship for over eight hundred
years. Their chronicles record this fact. To them,
therefore, it is custom, not honored in the “breech” but
the observance.
To follow out this mode of procedure to its logical
conclusion it is necessary here to state that White Hair’s
abduction of Half Moon did not necessarily end his
evening’s conquest or night's revel. His wooings might
have been twofold or multifold. Had he been inclined
to lay siege to the hearts and persons of half a
dozen dusky maidens on the same night there was noth-
ing to hinder his designs or thwart his purpose. The
appearance of other maidens in White Hair's lodge that
evening would have caused no surprise or jealously to
Half Moon. Trained in the manner of the young Sioux
brave, reared in the observance of might as the most
potent factor of right, the young squaw would merely
have viewed the additions to White Hair's lodge as a
matter of small moment to herself and one of supreme
satisfaction to the lord of her liberty. There is no limit
AN INDIAN SOCIETY BELLE.
S NZ
Cyr

INDIAN COURTSHIP. 99
to a Sioux warrior's household, so far as wives are cou-
cerned. He is supposed to be the best judge of that
matter, and as long as the game is plentiful and his
horse herd increases, he views the building up of a big
family with feelings of pride. He is lord of the manor
in all things. He plays no favorites with his squaws,
and, being accustomed to nothing but obedience, the
lives of the women are at least no worse in the lodge
of their captor than when spent in the tepi of their
parents. *
There is “giving in marriage * also, among the
Sioux. *.
When a young buck proves himself worthy of trust
and has shown his ability to acquire property of his
own ; when his rustling propensities increase the family
larder, and his lady love's parents are satisfied that he
is exceptionally above the rank and file, they do not
force him to follow tradition and steal their daughter.
The code prescribes another method of procedure:
At evening, when the camp is quiet and the
supper has been discussed, a crier goes forth and pro-
claims the news that High Wind gives the young brave
Fear Not, his daughter, Pale Dove. This proclamation
is final. Fear Not and Pale Dove forever after share
the same lodge.
“Now isn’t that romantic, and proper, too?” some of
my readers will ask. Proper, granted, but here is a dash to
the romance: The taking of Pale Dove to his lodge
does not deter Fear Not from abducting another dusky
maiden before the honeymoon of Pale Dove is hardly
100 INDIAN COURTSHIP.
begun, or if he feels inclined, from acquiring another
wife by purchase, or if some love-lorn squaw so wills it,
of accepting the latter's presence in his lodge because
she sees fit to make his lodge her permanent abiding
place.
Should he desire to purchase a wife, he selects the
maiden, seals the bargain by the payment agreed upon—
a horse and so many blankets, or whatever the father
demands — and the crier is dispatched upon his errand
about the camp to spread the news.
It will thus be seen that abduction, giving in mar-
riage and purchase are the three popular ways among
the Sioux of acquiring wives ; but for fear that some
of my “equal franchise” lady friends should still insist
upon some “show of right” for their dusky sisters, I pro-
pose to give one short illustration of how some of the
Sioux maidens set up an establishment for themselves
and lay claim to the protection and affection of their
victims.
It sometimes happens that a maiden falls desperately
in love with a young warrior; but, with all her wild
wiles, she is incapable of screwing him up to the ab-
ducting or purchasing point. She therefore is left the
alternative of “giving herself away.”
This is accomplished by her going direct to the
lodge of the object of her unrequited love and taking
possession of his blankets. The novelty of the situation
tickles the buck's vanity, and he consequently puts up
with what his savage sense of manhood will not permit
him to put out.
INDIAN COURTSHIP. 101
Such marriages are not “made in heaven,” however,
and the novelty and buck's patience wear out about
the same time. . Then there is a room to let, but the .
squaw is soon consoled or soon consoles herself with
some one else.
There is still one other method of acquiring a wife
among the Sioux, although it smacks very much of the
first method noted in this chapter. The same act in civ-
ilized communities is termed elopement, and the Indians
pretty generally concede that the wife is always a “wil-
ling ” party to the transaction. Sometimes this leads to
murder among the redmen, though, according to the
Sioux code, it is a matter that brave hearts will never
notice.
When a squaw quits the lodge of her buck with
Some other buck, and the first buck seeks satisfaction at
the muzzle of a gun, he falls outside the category of
bravery and forever loses caste with the tribe. He is
no better than a squaw, so the Sioux say, when he
wishes to revenge himself on another for doing that which
he himself had a perfect right to do. His proper plan
would be to steal the squaw from her abductor, and
keep her at all hazards. The Indians themselves have a
Way of turning a period on this wife-stealing business
that is hard of interpretation. It is something after this
fashion : “It is no easy matter to steal a maiden the
first time; easy the second ; heap easy afterwards.”.
Indian tradition and judicial reasoning may clash ;
but great minds will travel in the same groove. -
What has been said of courtship in this chapter, I
102 INDIAN COURTSHIP.
desire to chronicle as maintaining in the villages of
the Sioux before civilization encroached upon their sav-
age customs, and has no bearing upon the mode of life of
those who live within the agencies. The time may come -
when the "standard of virtue will be very high among
the Indians at the latter places, but until that time ar-
rives the veil of charity had best be drawn very tightly.
No man whose experience is worth recording can claim
anything but a state of uncertain transition for the In-
dian at the agency at present. Naturally quick to imi-
tate, the children of the forest, in their intercourse with
their white brethren, have acquired much of the evil and
little of the good from contact with our boasted civiliza-
tion.
Reformation's footsteps are slow. Education has
accomplished something, but, in the light of the recent
outbreak in South Dakota, not much. Tribal relation
meant retrogression. Agency influence and control,
(O ! the mockery of appointment of civilians as Indian
agents) have resulted in much demoralization.
- Cettewayo, the African potentate, remarked to his
English captors, on civilization : -
“Yes, I know what it means: First came the mis-
sionaries; then came the soldiers.”
CHIEF GALL.
BY PERMISSION OF JOHN F. FINERTY.
Y.
SN2
or *
3,cº

CHIAPTER XIII.
*-*
SITTING BULL LEADS A I) ESPERATE CHARGE.
In the winter of 1870, Sitting Bull and a large
party left the Indian village for a hunt. The village at
that time was located north of the mouth of Powder
river. It appears that the Crows, who were all the time
Creating disturbances with the Sioux when the Sioux were
not creating disturbances with them, had learned that
Sitting Bull and party had gone on this hunt, and con-
cluded it would be a good time to get up a pony-steal-
ing expedition against the Sioux. Accordingly a party
numbering thirty-one left the Crow reservation and went
to the Sioux camp with the intention of running off as
many of the ponies of the enemy as they could. In some
way or other Sitting Bull and his hunting party ran
across the trail of the incoming Crows, and at once sus-
pected what the mission of the enemy was. The Unca-
papas concluded to return at once to their village and
prevent the Crows from carrying out their design.
Arriving at their village the Sioux drove the Crows
Westward to the badlands and bottoms, the Crows finally
seeking shelter in a basin, the edge of which was formed
by a rocky eminence. In this naturally-fortified position
104 SITTING BULL LEADS A DESPERATE CHARGE.
the Crows stood their pursuers off for two nights and a
day, at the end of which time Sitting Bull called a coun-
cil of his warriors and urged upon them the necessity of
charging the enemy’s position and driving them out, or
being killed in the attempt. Sitting Bull knew that to
attack the Crows meant death to some of his party, and
in the council which was called, told his followers that
it would look very childish if they allowed this band of
Crows to escape after they had them penned up among
the rocks. He said that he did not want any of his
party to join the attack unless they felt the same about
it as he did; but he did not believe that any of his men
were squaws. He did not ask them to take any risks
that he was not willing to assume himself. He proposed
to lead the attack, and he expected every one of his men
to follow him. They would either drive the Crows out
of the rocks, kill them where they were or be killed
themselves in making the attempt.
The members of his party signified their willingness
to follow their chief, and preparations for the attack were
immediately made. --
Little Assiniboine, who was of the party, told me after-
wards that when the start of the Sioux was made for
the Crow's position, Sitting Bull was far in advance of
all his warriors; that upon reaching the rocks behind
which the Crows were secreted, and notwithstanding the
heavy fire of the enemy, the chief scaled the wall of
rocks, jumped in among the imprisoned Crows and had
killed several of them before the remainder of his party
arrived to assist him. So far as numbers were concerned
SITTING BULL LEADS A DESPERATE CHARGE. 105
the two parties were about even, and the conflict was a
hand to hand one. At the end of twenty minutes, how-
ever, all of the thirty-one Crows had been killed and
scalped. The bodies of the slain were left where they
fell, and Sitting Bull and party returned in triumph to
the Sioux village where one of the greatest scalp dances
I ever witnessed was indulged in. Two of the Sioux
were killed during the fight.
Some men who have written of Sitting Bull, claim-
ing that he was a medicine man and not a warrior, are
unacquainted with the circumstances surrounding his life
among the Indians themselves. No man in the Sioux
nation was braver in battle than Sitting Bull, and he
asked none of his warriors to take any chances that he
was not willing at all times to share. I could recall a
hundred different instancCs- coming under my own obser-
vation to prove Sitting Bull's bravery, and in the first
great sundance that I ever witnessed after my capture
by the Sioux, I heard Sitting Bull recount his “coups in
action”. They numbered sixty-three, most of them being
victories over Indian enemies.
CHAPTER XIV.
*.
AN INDIAN JAMBOUREE.
In the fall of 1872 Sitting Bull formed the idea of
entering into a treaty with the Red river half-breeds
for the purpose of trading for ammunition and other
necessaries. At this time Sitting Bull was not trading
with anybody. He would not trade with the whites,
and had no place to get his supplies from, so he formed
the idea of making this treaty for the purpose of getting
supplies. He went up into the half-breed camp to make
this treaty, being gone pretty near a month, and he was
very well pleased on his return with the treaty he had
made. They had promised to bring him what articles
he had mentioned, such as he would want to trade for,
into camp that winter, and they came to the village
about two months afterwards; but instead of bringing the
articles the Indians were in need of, they brought liquor.
They came in with five sleigh-loads of whisky. The
appearance of these loads of whisky in camp caused a
terrible disturbance. It was just nothing but drinking.
The Indians were camped on the divide at the head of
Dry Fork on the Missouri when they commenced drink-
AN INDIAN JAMBOUREE. 107
ing. This Dry Fork has some time been the Missouri
proper. I forget what month it was, but it was in the
winter. The half-breeds came to the village in sleighs.
When they came I did not go into the council.
They held a kind of council, and what was said or done
in this council I don’t know ; but before the half-breeds'
visit was over you could hear the noise and singing
from the council lodge. The orgies continued for about
a week. It was the most horrible thing I ever saw.
I got on my horse as soon as they commenced drink-
ing. When they were drunk they would cut down
lodges. The women were drunk as well as the men.
The majority in the village were drunk. Some places
it was kill on sight, either friend or foe. There were
two factions in the village—one for and one against
Sitting Bull. They were divided about half and half.
Those who opposed Sitting Bull turned on him. I
simply got on my horse and went to the hills, and stayed
there. There were several of us who did it. Sitting
Bull stayed in the camp and had his Indians protecting
him (some of his own faction), and he didn't get shot;
but there were several Indians killed, lodges cut up,
horses shot and tepis pulled down. It was a horrible
sight. I didn’t come down to camp for three days.
The French half-breeds left after they saw what they
had started. They pulled stakes and quit in the night,
and took what whisky was left with them. An Indian
will pay anything for whisky, and there was a good
deal of money in camp ; also mules and horses. It
was a large village, some two or three hundred lodges.
Ö
108 AN INDIAN JAMBOUREE.
There were between four thousand and five thousand
Indians in the village.
All I could hear as I returned to the village was
the crying of the Indians for the ones that had been
killed. It was some four or five days after that be-
fore they could get everything gathered up. When
they did they split up in small bands, each party go-
ing in whichever direction it fancied. The immediate
relatives collected together in small bands; and when
they had got together, these bands moved off in dif-
ferent directions to get away from the site of the vil-
lage, so there would be no more trouble. After they
had sobered up they would have to take notice of those
Indians who had been killed ; their relations would have
to avenge them. Sooner than have this trouble on top
of the other, they moved in different directions. It
had the effect of scattering the whole village like a flock
of blackbirds.

BIRDS EYE VIEW
OF THE CITY OF SHERIDAN, WYOMING.
SN2
CA: ".
- *
…

CFIA t”TER XV.
SITTING BULL TRIES TO KILL GROUAR.D.
The next spring I got a chance to make a trip to
the Fort Peck trading post. One of the Yankton Indians
came into our camp from the Yankton tribe at Fort
Peck – where their agency was. This trading post
wanted to get the Sitting Bull camp trade. The agent
had sent things over to Sitting Bull's camp by this
Indian. They always sent a large amount of tobacco
out for a treat to try and induce the Sitting Bull people
to come in. But Sitting Bull had made a treaty with
the half-breeds, and therefore, would not make any treaty
with the trader at Fort Peck. Through this Indian I
sent a note to the trader, telling him what these half-
breeds had been doing, the amount of mischief they had
done, and asking if it could not be stopped in some
way. - .-
The Yankton Indian returned to Fort Peck, and I
think it was about two weeks before he came back
again. When he did, some of the head men of the
Yankton tribe came themselves to try and make a treaty
with Sitting Bull. They brought me a letter from the
agent, asking me to try and bring Sitting Bull in ; if
not, to come myself; that he wanted to see me. But in
110 SITTING BULL TRIES TO KILL GROUARD.
a council they had with these Yanktons, Sitting Bull had
promised them he would go in. Sitting Bull always was
hostile. He would not think of making a treaty with
the whites. He was right on the war-path all the time,
so far as the whites were concerned. A short time
afterwards we started in — Sitting Bull, Little Assiniboine,
Black Shield and his brother-in-law and myself. There
were several of us. I can’t think of all their names.
Fort Peck was more of a trading post than an agency.
We reached there the second day after we started. The
second evening they rowed us over in boats and swam
the lorses over. There was nothing done that night
between the whites and Indians, but I had an opportun-
ity of having quite a long talk with the agent before
going to bed, telling him everything that had occurred.
There was a plan on foot then to capture these
half-breeds for trading whisky to the Indians. The
agent asked me to go with the troops to identify these
half-breeds. The next day a big council occurred. Sit-
ting Bull flatly refused to treat or trade with the
whites. We only stayed there a couple of nights and
one day, and then started back to our camp.
In making my second visit to Fort Peck I had to
get away from Sitting Bull without him knowing where
I was going ; so in order to fool him I told him I was
going on the war-path to steal horses. He asked me if
I was going by myself, and I told him I was. He
wanted to know the direction I was going, and I told
him up the Missouri some place, where I could find any-
thing that suited me to make a raid on.
SITTING BULL TRIES TO KILL GROUARD. 111
º
I left camp after dark and rode all that night until
the next day about noon, when I reached Fort Peck. I
had to go there to get my letter to the commander of
the troops that were to go with me. This Frenchman’s
creek, where these half-breeds were supposed to camp,
was about ninety miles from Fort Peck. I had to go
right up to Milk river, where Frenchman's creek empties
into it. I met the troops at the mouth of Frenchman's
creek, and we followed up Frenchman's creek to the
forks of it, where the half-breeds were camped. There
were just about one thousand of them. I went out with
the troops through this camp, and picked out the men
who had brought the whisky to Sitting Bull's camp.
There were about one hundred of these half-breeds
whom the troops arrested. They had a lot of others to
arrest. They took their horses away from them and
what whisky they could find. After everything was
through with I told the commander that I would have
to have three horses out of the captured animals to take
back with me ; that I didn't want to go empty-handed
to Sitting Bull's camp. He told me to go and help my-
self; to pick out whatever I wanted.
I picked out three horses. Some Santee . Indians
were there, and they, of course, recognized me, telling
the whole story later on to Sitting Bull. My trouble
with Sitting Bull afterwards was through these Indians.
I started back at daybreak. I rode pretty fast, for I
was afraid some of the half-breeds would overtake and
kill me. It took me three days to reach Sitting Bull's
camp. When I got back to camp Sitting Bull saw
112 SITTING BULL THEIES TO KILL GROUARD.
these horses and supposed that I had stolen them. I
told him I had. I told him to take his choice of any
of them he wanted, and I gave one to his sister and
one to his mother. He was tickled to death over it
—to think I had gone out and made this raid, and
told every Indian he met about it.
It was about ten days afterwards that two of the
Santee Indians came into camp along in the evening.
Of course, they went right to Sitting Bull’s lodge and
told him the whole story about my being up there with
the troops. If you ever saw a mad Indian, he was
one. I never saw an Indian quite as mad as he was.
My being in his sister's lodge prevented me from being
killed right then and there. I don't think he would
have hesitated a minute in killing me if it had not
been for that. He asked me why I went ; if I was
inclined towards the whites ; what was my reason for
it, and told me that he should kill me.
As quick as this became known through the camp
the other faction that was not for killing me, came to
me and told me that they would stand by me. Of
course, there was only one thing for me to do ; I had
either to kill Sitting Bull or be killed. That was the
way I looked at it. I had a gun and ammunition,
and I thought I would have as good a chance to kill
him as he to kill me; but his sister and mother pre-
vented our coming together as much as they could while
I was at their lodge. The other faction wanted me to
go to their side of the village, but that I would not
do. Sitting Bull's mother wanted me to remain in
SITTING BULL TRIES TO KILL GROUARD. 113
her lodge, saying her son would get over his anger.
She was naturally a peacemaker, and told me not to
pay any attention to the threats he made. She was
a pretty good Indian woman. Every time the camp
moved I would get on my horse and pull to one side,
and Sitting Bull would go to the other side, and we
never came together.
Indians are like average mortals. Some of them
wanted to see the trouble between us urged on, and
did everything they could to keep the fight going,
while there were others who wanted to quiet it down.

CHAPTER XVI.
SEES CUSTER AND HEARs “GARRYow}EN.”
Matters ran on that way until fall, when Custer's
and Stanley’s commands made a march through the Yel-
lowstone followed by the Indians. I supposed the troops
were after them, and the Indians were trying to flee
from them. We went to the Yellowstone and crossed at
the mouth of the Big Horn. While there we met the
warriors of four other villages, that is — the Sans Arcs,
Minneconjou, Ogallalas and Cheyennes. - • *
We crossed the Yellowstone right in ahead of the
soldiers, and could hear the military band playing. The
soldiers expected to fight, and we were making prepara-
tions to protect the women and children if they should
attack. I could distinctly hear the band playing. It
was years since I had heard a band. They were play-
ing Custer's favorite battle tune. That was “Garry-
owen. ” The other Indian village was camped on the
Big Horn, about four miles up.
SEES CUSTER AND HEARS “GARRYO WEN.” 115
After we got all the children across, all the warriors
of this other village came down to meet the troops for
the purpose of fighting. That was the first fight I ever
saw between the Indians and troops. The Indians were
on one side of the river and the troops on the other.
The troops could not get across, but the Indians could.
The Indians swam across and fought the soldiers on the
other side, on a kind of tableland there. It was just a
running fight. I had a pretty fair scrap there myself.
They were fighting on the other side, and I had got
into the hills to look on. I didn’t take any hand in
the fight. I was back some distance from the river.
There were lots of Indians there. The soldiers were
throwing shells from there to the hill where we were.
I got thirsty, standing on the hills watching them, and
thought I would go down to the river and get a drink.
It was across a big flat where I had to go. When I
started they were fighting above on the other side of
the river, and I thought I would not have any trouble
in going down and getting a drink. Opposite me, about
three hundred yards on the other side of the river, was
a big bank, probably seventy-five feet high, where the
river had washed into the bank and made a quarter cir-
cle around. I came right under this bank, got off my
mule and went down, to get a drink. While I was
drinking I heard a kind of rattling noise, and, looking .
up, saw two companies of cavalry coming down to where
I was drinking. I could not get down to my mule, as
the soldiers commenced shooting as soon as they saw
me. I ran for the trees. It was not over three hun-
116 SEES OUSTER AND HEARS “GARRYOWEN.”
dred yards, and I got behind one of those trees while
the two companies were shooting at me, and never got
touched. The mule, of course, stampeded and went back
into camp, so I just stayed there until the troops got
through fighting and went off. I didn’t have any arms.
There was only one Indian killed during the fight, and
I heard there were a few soldiers killed.

CHAPTER XVII.
GROU ARIO MEETS CRAZY HORSE.
Shortly after we got back from this Custer fight,
all the Indians in the four tribes found out about my
trouble with Sitting Bull. There was an Indian in the
Ogallala camp by the name of Little Hawk, an uncle to
Crazy Horse, the latter one of the bravest of all the
Sioux Indians. He sent for me and asked me how the
trouble started, what I intended to do, and told me I
had better come and stop in the Ogallala camp, which
I did. I never went back to Sitting Bull's camp. I had
never met Crazy Horse until this time. He was in the
camp when I went in. There were several young bucks
there, and he was among them. Crazy IIorse had some-
what peculiar features. He had sandy hair, and was
of a very light complexion. He didn’t have the high
cheek bones that the Indians generally have, and didn’t
talk much. He was a young looking Indian—appeared
much younger than his age. There were a few powder
marks on one side of his face. I stopped at the Ogal-
lala village from that time on. The head men of the
Ogallala village were Big Road, Little Hawk, He Dog
and Crazy Horse, but the latter did not consider him.
11S GROUARD IMEETS CRAZY HORSE.
self the chief. He generally attended the council or
anything of that sort. The Black Twins were the most
prominent Ogallalas. They were actually twins—were
the most prominent among the older men in the village.
I was there the rest of the time until 187 5. close on to
1876. I never saw Sitting Bull again until 1875, when
I went to him from Red Cloud to try to induce him to
make a treaty with the whites about the Black Hills
country. I had not left the Indians at that time, but
had made up my mind to leave them. I was continually
planning some scheme to get away after I had found
out everything I wanted to know, and I was studying all
spring how to get away without causing any trouble.
I was with the Northern Indians, called the hostile In-
dians, and they never went into the agency, but the
agency Indians would come to us. They were a kind of
go-between. All our ammunition was supplied by these
go-betweens.

CII APTER XVIII.
TorturiNG THE CAPTIVE, AND OTHER STORIES.
From the time of my capture up to the year 1872
the Indians did not put ine through any particularly pain-
ful ordeal. During the early part of that year, however,
they constantly reminded me of the fact that I had never
passed through any torture to prove my courage or forti-
tude. I did not know what to expect, and while I
dreaded what I knew was inevitable, I found myself wish-
ing they would make the test and free my mind of the
suspense I suffered. I knew very well they would invent
some means of making this test as excruciatingly painful
as possible. It came soon enough. One day the whole
village congregated around the sweat, and I was informed
that I was to be put to the test. We were camped at
that time on the Yellowstone, where Glendive, Montana,
now stands. All the chiefs were present, and the cere-
monies attending the sweat were gone through with. I
was then laid on my back upon the ground, all the In-
dians gathering around and taking positions where they
could watch the operations about to be performed. Sit-
ting Bull sat near where I had been laid, smoking his
pipe, and No Neck, Gall, Four. Horns, Little Assiniboine
1 Qt) TORTURING THE CAPTIVE, AND OTHER STORIES.
and other head men were close to hand, anxious to see
if I flinched under the ordeal.
I had no idea what torment and suffering I would
be forced to undergo, but was not kept long in doubt.
I made up my mind, however, that, if it were possible,
no groans should escape my lips during the period of
torture. The first thing done was to select four braves
to operate upon me. They took positions upon each side
of my body, and, with needles, raised up the flesh be-
tween the shoulder and elbow on each arm and cut out
pieces about the size of a pea, taking four hundred and
eighty pieces out of each arm. I did not mind it much
at first; the cutting out, or off, of these pieces of flesh
causing little pain. But the savages took the flesh off in
five rows on each arm, and before they had finished the
job I was suffering the agonies of the damned. The
pain became so intense that it seemed to dart in streaks
from the point where the small particles of flesh were
cut off to every portion of my body, until at last a
stream of untold agony was pouring back and forth from
my arms to my heart. I managed to bear the pain,
however, without a murmur, greatly to the delight of Sit-
ting Bull and his faction.
The next operation consisted of pulling out, one at
a time, my eyebrows, eyelashes and the hairs on my upper
lip. After this, came the test of fire. They had pre-
pared, by previous burning, several little cone-shaped blocks
of peth from the stalk of a sunflower. These blocks
were about half an inch in length, and very much resem-
bled the pieces of punk the small boy uses on the fourth
TORTURING THE CAPTIVE, AND OTIIER STORIES. 121
of July with which to light his firecracker. I know they
hold fire a long while, at any rate. Well, they placed
four of these blocks, half an inch apart, on my right
wrist, and ignited them, and I lay there while the cruel
fire burned down into my flesh, without giving any sign
of the torture I was undergoing. When the fire had
burned itself out—when the little blocks had been con-
sumed—I was raised to my feet and shortly afterward
put through the sweat, the Indians being satisfied that I
was “good medicine,” and would pass through any ordeal
unflinchingly.
Five great ridges rose on my arm, and for a couple
of months I could not bear the softest kind of fur to
touch the half-raw spots. The ceremonies attending my
tortures lasted four hours, but it seemed to me like a year.
The Indians never again asked me to undergo further tor-
ture. Having put me through their severest ordeals, they
were satisfied I could not be forced to weaken.
Late one fall we were camped near Pilot Butte, on
the Missouri river, and our supply of food was very low;
so low, in fact, that we were all very hungry. The Slush
ice was coming down the river, so that we were unable
to cross the stream and get to where the buffalo fed, and
it began to look as if we were in for a long stretch of
starvation. The one great problem among the Indians
was the securing of food. All other matters were of
secondary consideration. One morning two fine buffaloes
Were seen to come down on the north side of the river
Opposite our camp. This sight was too much for us, and
t
122 TORTURING THE CAPTIVE, AND OTHER STORIES g
myself and two young bucks made up our minds that we
would swim across the river and get the animals. We
tied our ammunition pouches on top of our heads, fas-
tened our guns to logs, and jumped into the angry stream,
the entire village watching our movements.
We pushed the logs on which we had fastened our
guns ahead of us while we swam, and at last reached
the northern bank of the river. The current was very
swift, and the sharp ice, rushing against our arms and
breasts, cut great gashes in our flesh. We were covered
with cuts and blood when we crawled out of the water ;
but we managed to keep our guns from being submerged,
and they were ready for use as soon as loaded. We
were not long in finding, killing, skinning and quartering
the buffaloes, after which we made a raft, put the meat
and our guns upon it, and once more trusted our lacera-
ted bodies to the mercies of the ice-filled stream, arriving
on the opposite bank after a terrible struggle. :
The Indians were very thankful for the meat, and
did everything in their power to alleviate our sufferings
and make us comfortable ; but it was many days, be-
fore we were able to leave our tepis. The water in
the river was as cold as the ice which floated in its
current, and all three of us caught terrible colds : but
the worst thing we had encountered was the ice itself,
and its sharp, knife-like edges cut gashes in our bodies
that were weeks in healing. It was a buffalo hunt
under difficulties, and the Indians never tired of relat-
ing the story to their friends and acquaintances among
the other tribes. * . -
SIOUX LODGES,
Ca
---

TORTURING THE CAPTIVE, AND OTHER STORIES 123
During a trip I made that same year to the Big
Wooded mountains in the British possessions in com-
pany with five Indians, we passed through the greatest
herds of buffaloes I ever saw. We traveled over twelve
hundred miles, and the country for four hundred miles
of the distance was covered with thousands upon thous-
ands of these animals. On this same trip I witnessed
a big prairie fire and saw a stampede of wild horses.
It was one of the most awe-inspiring sights I ever be-
held, and it was a long time before the vividness of
it died out of my mind. When we left the Indian
village to take this trip our intention was to visit the
country of the Blackfeet and run off a big band of
their horses, but we became entangled in the swamps
and were compelled to return.
CHAPTER XIX.
IN A RATTLESNAKE DEN.
During the year 1873 I did a great deal of hunting
and running around. Early in the fall of that year our
village was located between Beaver creek and the Yellow-
stone, and one day I had been out on a hunt and went
up a divide over a game trail, and thought I would lie
down and rest until the animals came down to water.
A short distance from where I spread my blanket there
was an immense ledge of rocks, rising some two or three
hundred feet from the bottom of a deep gulch. I threw
myself down on my blankets, and, being very tired, soon
fell asleep. I don’t know how long I had been asleep
when I was aroused to partial consciousness by what I
imagined was the whistling of the wind. I imagined
that a big windstorm was in progress, and although I
j
JN A RATTLESNARE I) EN. 12.5
f
had nothing on but a gee-string, I was not conscious of
any cold air blowing on my body, and soon fell asleep
again. A second time I was partially awakened by this
same sound. I remember that I pulled the end of the
blanket over me and fell back into sleep. You see I
had not opened my eyes at all, as I was not fully
awake on either occasion when I thought I heard this
wind blowing. But the third time that the noise aroused
me I awoke with a terrible start, and, opening my eyes,
glanced hastily around. I was completely surrounded by
rattlesnakes, and, to my startled vision, there seemed to
be fully a million of them. Some of them were nearly
close enough to strike me, and all of them were coiled
up as if ready to make an attack. To this day I do
not know how I got out of that nest of writhing, rat-
tling reptiles. I must have made jumps that would
have put long distance champions to the blush. I do
not think I ever was worse frightened in all my life.
If I had not been awakened the snakes would undoubt-
edly have attacked me. As it was, I considered I had
made a pretty lucky escape, and I waited around for
about an hour, until the snakes disappeared, before I
went back on the divide to get my blanket and gun.
When I returned to the village I told some of the
Indians about my adventure, and described the place where
it had occurred, and they informed me that in the high
ledge of rocks was a famous rattlesnake den, and that
thousands of the reptiles were secreted there. Quite a
Party of us visited the place afterwards and examined
the ledge. I don't know how many snakes we killed,
126 IN A RATTLESNAKE DEN.
but the more we dispatched the more seemed to come
out from between the crevices in the rocks, and as we
did not care to waste all our ammunition on such game,
we left the snakes in possession of their stronghold and
returned to camp. I dreamed of rattlesnakes for three
months afterwards, and never run across one of that
specie but what I think of the time when I lay upon
the divide surrounded by enough of them to start a full-
fledged rattlesnake farm.

\
CIIAPTER XX.
*-**
INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS.
In his natural state the Indian was probably the most
independent being on the face of the earth. His wants
were few and easily satisfied. From his standpoint, the
influences of civilization were detrimental and demoraliz-
ing. He recognized no temporal power superior to his
own will, and breathed an air of freedom no other race
on earth enjoyed. There was no landlord to torment him ;
no interest-hunting money shark to demand a pound of
flesh or his soul. He measured the length of the day by
the sun, the night by the moon. So many nights were
so many sleeps ; the months and years were moons and
Snows. Yesterday and today were time ; tomorrow, eter-
nity. He was the uncrowned monarch of the western
hemisphere. He feasted when it pleased him, and fasted
according to the traditions of his race. Bound in by no
saucy doubts and fears, he paid no heed to the flight of
time, and welcomed dissolution as the key to eternal hap-
piness in the Hunting Grounds of the Great Spirit. He
had no cares beyond the satisfying of his daily wants.
He knew that somewhere, and at some time, in the
dim past, his people dwelt together in one mighty family;
128 INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS.
but there had been a confusion of tongues—a great up-
heaval of some kind that had divided the nations into
seven tribes. Tradition taught him of the future less
than the past—both were obscured. Experience was his
school. He had genius, because he was inventive ; rever-
ence, because he worshiped a power superior to his own ;
affection, because he loved ; passion, because he was re-
vengeful. He lived by the code of his nation, and within
that code there was no crime. He might disobey a rule
or break a law, but he could not commit crime, because
crime was unknown to the council. He worshiped God
in his dances, in his games, in his hunts, in his sweats,
in his feasts and in his wars. He never lit the pipe or
bent the bow or sacrificed the victim but he did so in
accordance with religious tradition. He lived, he loved,
he hated, and, with hope of immortality, he died. Who
shall say that he did not fulfill the purposes for which
an all-wise Creator fashioned him — gave to his savage
soul the self-same spark of Divinity which He bestows
on all mankind There are problems of earth, and
problems of heaven. The savage is the problem of
Deity.
The sweat is one of the greatest institutions known
to the Indian. It is always built by the side of a
stream, and generally near a deep hole capable of per-
mitting the submerging of the body. The sweat is very
simple in construction. A wickiup (or hut j made from
willows studk in the ground and bent over in circular
form and fastened at the top, is first put together. In
the center of this a shallow place is scooped out of the
INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS. 129
ground. A fire is built on the outside of the sweat,
and in it a number of large cobble stones are thoroughly
heated, and are then rolled into the hut and put into
the receptacle in the centre. Next the hut is covered
with robes and blankets and made as perfectly air-tight
as possible. Buckets of water are carried inside, blank-
ets are drawn tight and the bather proceeds to pour the
liquid on the hot stones. The result can be imagined.
No Russian bath in the world can approach the Indian
sweat. When the bather has steamed himself to his
heart’s content, he pulls aside the blankets, runs naked
to the creek and jumps into the cool water — the
“plunge” of the white man.
The Indians lay great store by this bath, and very
correctly, too. Whenever sickness overtakes them they
repair to the bath. It is the best of all nature's known
remedies for rheumatism. Nobody ever saw a wild In-
dian afflicted with the gout, sciatica or rheumatism — the
bath is as much a preventive as a cure. Before dancing,
feasting, going upon the warpath or chase, in fact, be-
fore any and all ceremonials, the Indian takes the sweat.
It is a part of his religious worship, and he prays and
sweats at one and the same time. The Indian has three
methods of treating disease — incantation, herb teas and
poultices and the sweat, the latter taking precedence in
nearly all cases. His knowledge of the medicinal prop-
erties of herbs is simply marvelous, and great prices are
charged and paid (in horses) for certain curative leaves
by the friends of sick savages. Nearly every Indian
knows of some particular herb whose use is efficacious
130 INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS.
in some particular case, but here his knowledge generally
ends. It sometimes happens (as it did once among the
Sioux when Grouard was with them) that smallpox or
cholera attacks some member of the tribe and spreads
With alarming rapidity and disastrous results before the
right herb can be secured to cure the patient and check
the epidemic. In such times, any price demanded by
the medicine men is freely given for the needed specific.
In cases of burns, snake bites and other wounds, the
Savages haye roots and grasses they apply at once, gen-
erally chewing the grass or weed before applying it, and
oftentimes using nothing but the juice of the herb spat
from the mouth upon the wound. Their mode of ex-
tracting bullets from the body or limbs is by massage
treatment, in which they are eminently successful. They
never use a probe, and never amputate a limb. Grouard
says he never saw a one-legged or one-armed Indian
during the whole time of his captivity.
It is but fair to state that no city in the world is
more completely under the control of its chosen officers
than were the villages of the Sioux tribes. In the first
place there was a Supreme Council, composed of the
hereditary chiefs of the nation. Their places were va-
cated by death only, and filled by succession alone.
Upon all matters touching the good of the tribe or vil-
lage, the decision of this body was final and binding.
This was called the Circle of Silence, and its fires were
lit and burned in secret. None but the elect were ever
permitted to enter its presence, and in the entire Sioux
nation its membership did not number above one hun-
INDIAN CHAIRACTEIRISTICS AND CUSTOMIS. 131
dred. This Circle represented the Masonry of the abori-
gine. It had its signs, its grips, its passwords and its
unwritten law, and its influence was far-reaching and ab-
Solute.
The assertion has often been made, and never denied,
that Masonic rites are practiced by the savages of every
clime, and there is no good reason why this should not
be so. Certain it is that the Circle of Silence was the
one and only exclusive society known among the Sioux,
notwithstanding the fact that several other secret socie-
ties flourished in the Sioux nation for over eight hundred
years. These latter societies were three in number, and
were known as the Strong Hearts, Badgers and Dog
Soldiers. The duties of these latter societies, so far as
their relation to the village was concerned, was to carry
out any and all orders promulgated by the Supreme
Council. Whenever the village was moved, a majority of
those representing the Circle of Silence took precedence
in the march, while the Brave Hearts and Badgers
flanked the moving village, and the Dog Soldiers brought
up the rear. In all the Indian ceremonials this order
of priority and honor was observed. The buffalo hunt,
preparations for, which were attended by every traditional
ceremony, invariably demanded the recognition of the
rights of the societies.
Serious results followed the disobedience of the su-
preme council’s propagandas. When it was suspected
that an enemy was in close proximity to the village, an
order would be issued by the council that no gun should
be fired unless at the foe. This order was issued to the
132 INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMs.
Strong Hearts, who thereby became responsible to the
council for its proper observance. The Strong Hearts in
turn issued its orders to the Badgers that the village be
warned of the danger. The Badgers then became respon-
sible to the Strong Hearts for the faithful performance
of the duty entrusted to it. The Badgers thereupon
notified the Dog Soldiers of the decree, and the latter
immediately sent out its trusted “criers” to carry out
the order. Thus it will be seen that the order of the
Council passed successively through three responsible or-
ganizations before it found its way to the people of the
village, and each society was directly responsible to the
one next higher in authority for the proper discharge of
its duty. Governmental “red tape’ could not be more
exacting than this. Time was sacrificed to certainty.
Should the order of the Circle of Silence not to fire a
gun be disobeyed, the Dog Soldiers, who were the active
agents of the Council, would seize the offender's gun and
destroy it. If the order were for no brave to leave the
village, and one stole out, he would be followed till cap-
tured, when his horses would be killed and his blankets
cut up. For graver offenses, the culprit's lodge would
be destroyed and sometimes his life taken. But it was
seldom that any damage was done to the property of a
brave that was not at once repaired. In case of death
through carrying out an order of the Council, the dead
brave's family were generally made wards of the nation.
Grouard states positively that members of the Circle
of Silence could gain admission in safety to hostile.
camps at times when it was worth a man’s life to go
INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS. 133
within shooting distance of the enemy's village. No
matter if an hereditary chief were eligible to member-
ship in the Circle, he could not gain admittance to it
until he attained his thirtieth year. Visiting members
were always received in a brotherly manner, and feted
and otherwise royally entertained while they remained.
There is still another feature of village government
worthy of attention. The inhabitants of the village were
divided into clans, and these were in turn ruled by one
or more chiefs. These clans comprised the relatives
and adherents of certain chiefs, who shared all his mis-
fortunes and conquests. In the Sioux village, when
Grouard was still in captivity, these clans were two in
number, being the Big Bellies, under immediate control
of Big Nose, and the Sitting Bull, with Four Horns and
Black Kettle as governors. The leaders of the different
clans were always members of the Circle of Silence, so
there was no danger of a clash of authority, besides
which the scope of these leaders’ authority extended only
to the actual family life of its members.
This order of things has always been coexistent
with the Sioux tribal relation, and it may be the key to
solve the problem of Indian discontent and misunder-
standing of government control of the redmen at the
various agencies. We have too long viewed the Indian
as being devoid of understanding and incapable of ad-
vancement. We have not paused to consider that the
great lessons of civilization must be learned by the sav-
age through the forgetting of those traditions which are
a part of his natural self. In fact, he must first unlearn
134 INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS.
all he has acquired from savagery before he can be
taught to appreciate (if he ever can) the manifold bless-
ings and advantages of our riper civilization. There are
two sides to the question: We consider only what civil-
ization gains through the Indian's conversion ; he realizes
merely what he loses in his transformation.
The male aborigine is not so averse to clothing but
what he will wear it; but it must be on state occasions
and for ornament only. From his infancy he is ac.
customed to seeing the bucks about the camp in a con-
dition bordering onto nudity and appearing at social
gatherings and during religious festivals in the same
condition. Nobody seems to know where the savage
caught his first idea of a breech-clout, or as it is
more commonly known, “gee-string.” . At best, it is but
a slight improvement on the fig-leaf covering used by the
man and woman who are said to have partaken of the
forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden ; but inasmuch
as it is satisfactory to the savage idea of a full-dress
suit, and is custom more honored in the “breech” than
the observance, the white man has no particular occa-
sion to inquire too pertinently into its origin. It must
not be inferred from this that the Indian has no
love for dress, but he dresses more from a desire to
ornament himself than to hide his nakedness. He con-
siders the paint on his face, body and limbs just as
essential to his proper appearance as the white man does
his collar and cuffs and patent leather shoes.
The savage never seems so happy as when togged
out in a costume composed of odds and ends and com-
AN INDIAN COURIER

INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND cus TOMS. 135
prising a heterogeneous mixture of colors. He appears
at some great society gathering of the tribe or par-
ticipates in one of the dances arrayed like Solomon in all
his glory. He struts about like a peacock—the observed
of all observers—and is immensely proud of the attention
he attracts. He would never think of going on the war-
path with his best suit of clothes on, but lays it care-
fully in his lodge for use at his funeral if his medi-
cine proves to be bad or if he falls beneath the toma-
hawk or is killed by the arrow or bullet of his enemy.
At all times, summer and winter, the Indian believes
in giving protection to his feet, and he is never, found
barefooted. In the winter season a buffalo robe or a
heavy blanket forms sufficient body covering to exclude
the winter’s blasts.
He can not be induced to wear a hat or cap, and,
unless he desires to hide his identity or conceal his face,
his head knows no other covering than the one which
nature provided—his hair—which, though course, is gener-
ally abundant and of luxuriant length. The Indian takes
great pride in his hair, and spends no little time in plait-
ing it into braids and ornamenting it with shells and fancy-
colored pieces of ribbon or cloth, and such other gewgaws
as may please him. He is always fantastic in ornamen-
tation, and dresses his hair with particular care for the
Council, the dance, the feast and the war-path.
The children are considered dressed when their hair
is plaited, and they run about the camp at will with no
other garments than “their happy looks.” In their play
they mingle with each other as do the children of the
136 INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS.
whites, intercourse between them being unrestricted until
arriving at an age when precaution is made necessary,
even among the savages. The women, as a rule, wear
covering for their bodies, and some of their dresses are
said by many aesthetic people to be “dreams.” They
are as vain in this regard as many of their white sisters.
A favorite garment among the squaws is a waist, made of
any material, but generally tanned buckskin, ornamented
with the teeth of the elk, and the author has seen waists
of this description having as many as three hundred and
fifty elk teeth fastened upon it. They wear moccasins
richly embroidered and elegantly worked, and wear skirts
made from skins or blankets, which fall below the knee.
Like the lords of their lives and liberty, they have no
regulation head-gear except the end of a blanket. As
they are totally unprotected from assault, or at least were
while enjoying tribal relation, they had a custom of
“roping” their bodies, but not to such an extent as
would interfere with free locomotion. On all occasions
of festivity or solemn deliberation, the bucks adorn their
bodies and cover their heads with the most fantastic gar-
ments and bonnets imaginable, many of their war bonnets
being both artistic and beautiful.
Thieving among the Indians is reduced to a science,
and in recounting his coups it is a proud boast of the
warrior that he has stolen horses and women and chil-
dren from his enemy. With them theft is one of the
highest accomplishments; yet, strange as it may seem,
thieving is almost unknown among men and women
belonging to the same tribe. In fact, Indians belong-
INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS. 137
ing to the same tribe seldom if ever steal from each
other. Cases of this kind do happen occasionally, but
the consequences are very serious, and summary punish-
ment is visited upon the thief. If a buck steals from
his neighbor the stolen property is taken from him
and returned to its rightful owner, and the thief, after
suffering all the indignities that can be heaped upon
him, is, with his wife and children, cast out of the vil-
lage and never permitted to return. His horses and
dogs are killed, his tepi and blankets cut up, his cook-
ing utensils destroyed and he is literally thrust out of the
camp to find shelter where he can. Cases have oc-
curred where the buck’s life has been taken, but these
are not plentiful. In case the thief is a squaw, she is
soundly whipped and turned out of the camp, but her
husband and children are left in possession of all the
property which rightfully belongs to them. While, there-
fore, it will be seen that the Indian may steal the
goods and chattels of his enemy and be applauded for
the act, the theft of ever so small an article from a
neighbor will call down upon his head the displeasure
of his people and the direst punishment.
The religion of the aborigine is very peculiar. In
the first place he believes in one Controlling Force,
which he denominates the Great Spirit. He does not
try to reason out the power of this spirit, but he places
it above and beyond all other spirits. He believes in
a Good Spirit and also in a Bad Spirit, but does not
think they have any connection with each other. He
recognizes the heavens as his father, the earth as mother.
138 INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS,
If anything goes wrong with his plans, or if any-
thing happens to thwart the accomplishment of his pur-
poses, he attributes it to the Bad Spirit, and attempts
in every possible way to propitiate it, oftentimes dedicat-
ing one or more ponies to it. And as this act is made
known to other members of the tribe, these ponies are
forever after held sacred to the Bad Spirit, and no
other Indian, no matter how much he might feel in-
clined to possess the animals, would dare touch them
for fear of bringing down upon himself the displeasure
of the Bad Spirit. All his success he attributes to the
Good Spirit. In his prayers he appeals to the spirit
of whatever he chooses, be the object animate or in-
animate. Each individual is left to his own choice
of gods, and while the Indians can not be called idol-
ators, they believe that the spirit of an ant has as
much power to grant their requests as the spirit of
anything else. In this way they worship anything and
everything they see.
The Indian’s idea of the future state is, to the av-
erage mind, a very confusing one. He believes implic-
itly in the existence of the Happy Hunting Grounds,
but he does not seem to have any idea of any set
order of things there. He believes that the souls of
those who enter that place appear there as they ap-
peared here; that the young never grow old, that the
aged never grow young. And yet, all are happy. He
does not try to reason out how the decrepit man or
woman, bent with age and suffering with disease, can
be happy at any time or in any place. Tradition has
}
INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMIS. ... 139
taught him that they are happy, and this is enough
to satisfy him of its truth. He has a confused idea of
a trip from his earthly home to the Happy Hunting
Grounds, but does not seem to care to know how long
the trip lasts, or whether he goes on horseback or on
foot. He merely believes that when the breath leaves
his body his soul at once starts for the Indian heaven
and arrives there in some manner and at some time.
He has been appealed to by several Christian denomi-
nations to throw aside this “unsatisfactory belief” for
the more substantial doctrines of a higher faith, and in
some instances has accepted the religion of the white
man ; but in nearly all cases, when sickness or mis-
fortune comes upon him and he would seek consola-
tion from a higher power than man’s, he forsakes his
new faith for the old. His reliance upon the Great
Spirit of his fathers is thus shown to be perfect. So,
as we have remarked elsewhere, civilization may have
done something for the redman, but, in the light of all
the facts, not much.
From his earliest years the Indian is taught that his
success rests upon the kind of medicine he makes. Each
individual, in making medicine, adds some ingredient that
forever remains a secret between himself and his gods.
This secret ingredient he carries in a little buckskin bag
attached to his person, generally by a string about the
neck, and, at his death, ingredient and bag are buried
With him, nobody attempting to discover the dead man's
Secret. When he desires to discover his secret ingredient
and make medicine, he goes to some lofty peak or lonely
140 INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS.
spot, and generally remains there from three to six days,
tasting neither food nor drink. He repeats his prayers
to the Good Spirit until he has worked himself into a
delirium or falls asleep from sheer exhaustion. In his
dreams the ingredient which shall forever remain his, is
revealed to him. He then returns to his village, mixes
his medicine and tries its efficacy. If the result is good,
he is satisfied that his plans have not been interfered with
by the Bad Spirit, and is contented. If, on the other
hand, his plans miscarry and disaster overtakes him, he is
fully persuaded that the Bad Spirit had a hand in mak-
ing his medicine, and he forthwith proceeds to work him-
self into the good graces of the Good Spirit, has another
dream, procures another ingredient, mixes his medicine,
and so on ad libitum.
The Indian is taught early in life that he must never
allow himself to be surprised at anything, as to be sur-
prised is to be stampeded. Therefore if an Indian is
actually surprised and thereby suffers defeat, he is cute
enough to attribute it to some other cause foreign to the
actual cause ; otherwise he would lose caste with his peo-
ple and be considered no better than a squaw.
The Indians were lavish in their love for their little
children. Especially was this the case with the fathers.
Wives were esteemed by their husbands in proportion to
the number of children they bore them. The Indian
father’s greatest pride was in his sons. He was invari-
ably kind to all his children. He allowed the mother
full and absolute control over the girls until they arrived
at a marriageable age, when custom gave him super-
THREE YOUNG SIOUX BRAVES.


INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS. 141
vision. And as the girls were “marketable,” the buck
grew in wealth according to the esteem in which his
daughter's suitors held her. It resolved itself into a
matter of barter and trade ; a sale outright wherein the
daughter had no voice.
So much were little children thought of by the In-
dians, however, that the waif and foundling were un-
known among them. In their tender age they probably
received as much care as do the children of the whites,
and very early in life entered into serious occupations.
The boys were taught to handle bow and arrow as soon
as they were big enough to walk. Some of the girls
were adepts at fancy bead work. In their fifth or sixth
year they began an apprenticeship to a life of drudgery
and were never freed from its fetters. They were slaves
to time-honored custom, however, and it is not to be
presumed that they were unhappy with their lots. Mar.
riage divorced them from the rigid rule of parents, and
if they were not satisfied with their life partners they
very easily induced some kind-hearted brave to elope
With them. -
Boys were never punished by the mother and sel-
dom by the father. They had pretty much their own
Way in everything and ruled the lodge with an iron
hand. As soon as they arrived at an age that fitted
them for the war-path, they stole horses enough to pur-
chase them a wife or in some other way managed to set
up establishments of their own. Some of the most
atrocious outrages ever committed on the frontier were
perpetrated by the fledgling warriors, anxious to receive
142 INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOM S.
instant recognition for their bravery and daring at the
hands of the council. ---
Indian boys were given what are called their family
names by their fathers, but as the child grew to man-
hood he was permitted to re-name himself, if some mem-
ber of the tribe had not given him a nickname that was
distinctive and characteristic enough to stick to him.
Thus the overcoming of a foe by a young brave, or the
killing of some wild animal, or some other circumstance,
might suggest a name which the young man adopted
or was given, and which was liable to cling to him
throughout his life, regardless of his family name. In-
dians often joined colors to the names of birds or ani-
mals and in this manner caught a combination that was
striking and fitting. The mothers named the girls, and
it must be admitted that they usually showed better
judgment and taste in this regard than the fathers.
When the young buck has attained the age of ten
or twelve, he turns his attention to the accomplishment of
some feat that will rebound to his glory and give him a
place among the braves and warriors. The stealing of a
horse from an enemy is a great victory; the touching of
an enemy’s body with a coup stick reflects honor upon
the victor, and the taking of a scalp brings to the brave
the unstinted approbation of the entire tribe. The Indian
believes that no soul can enter the Happy Hunting
Grounds if the body has been mutilated, and scalping for-
ever precludes the possibility of reaching happiness in the
next world. It is also written in their faith, that those
whom they slay here will become their slaves in the here-
INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS. 143
after. Therefore they often refrain from scalping or oth-
erwise mutilating a victim, in order to insure his safe
entrance to the Happy Hunting Grounds, where he must
forever remain the slave of the victor. The redmen did
not believe a paleface ever reached the Indian heaven.
Chieftancy among the wild men formerly meant moth-
ing more nor Jess than absolutism. The head chief was
not chosen, but held his office by sublime right. The son
succeeded the father. Nor was it always the eldest son,
but the one whom the father chose in youth for qualities
that fitted him to rule. The chief was a law unto him-
self, and his right to dispense or withhold favor or jus-
tice was never questioned. He, like the other members
of his tribe, took unto himself as many wives as pleased
his fancy or he wanted to support, and when one failed
to suit him, or for any other reason became incongenial,
he sold or disposed of her, sometimes killing her. He
was subject to but one power or influence—the Circle of
Science, or Supreme Council. He was not called upon,
because of his chieftancy, to lead in battle, unless he was,
by common consent, the acknowledged war chief of the
tribe. Age, bodily infirmity or want of disposition to
enter battle, were sufficient reasons for his remaining in
camp during the progress of a fight. As a rule, however,
the head (or hereditary) chief was a warrior, who scorned
to shirk any responsibility or danger, and led his braves
in all actions when circumstances permitted.
The war chief of the tribe, where the functions of
that office were not monopolized by the hereditary chief,
was elected by the tribe or appointed by the council.
144 INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS.
He was generally the most ferocious warrior in the
tribe ; one in whom everybody had great confidence.
His medicine was always good and his valor unques-
tioned.
The “medicine man” or chief, was a very dignified
individual, and held in great awe and reverence. Some-
times he secured his office by election, sometimes by
appointment, but more often by assumption. When by
the latter method he was compelled to be ready to prove
during battle the efficacy of his medicine, and was
thus forced to rush head-long into dangers that he
might otherwise have escaped. He was high priest and
doctor at the same time, and if called in the latter
capacity and declared against the chances for recovery
of the patient, the sick man’s friends immediately began
preparations for the funeral.
The sub-chiefs owed their rise from the ranks to
their own prowess and the kindly consideration of the
council. They held sway, one over the other, by the
estimation in which they were themselves held. While
being recognized as head warriors they enjoyed no im-
munities that were not shared by every other male
member of the tribe.
The pipe figured in each and every Indian cere-
monial. When lit in council or during religious rites,
or when used at dances or feasts, it passed from left to
right, and never from right to left. It was usual for
the chief or warrior lighting the pipe to offer to some, par-
ticular spirit the first draught of smoke, and the stem
of the pipe was then held toward the different points of
INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS. 145
the compass, the sun, moon, stars, or any object to which
the holder of the pipe desired to offer homage. This
little ceremony was never omitted. Before passing the
pipe to the neighbor on his left, each Indian inhaled
as much smoke as his lung cavity permitted, and the
smoke was afterward expelled at the buck's pleasure.
Indians invariably inhale the smoke, and are inordinately
fond of tobacco. They used different pipes at the dif-
ferent ceremonials, and would scorn to sanction the use
of the council pipe in any other place or on any other
Occasion.
The Indian found his greatest amusement in danc-
ing, and during the winter months the village was a
scene of constant jollity and excitement. The fall hunts
being over, and plenty of game having been provided
for the winter season, the long months were whiled away
in terpsichorean and matrimonial pleasures. It has been
said that the Sioux were a nation of dancers, a statement
that will not admit of a doubt. They had no less than
half a dozen different kinds of dances, none of which
partook of the religious character of the sun dance. In
these amusements the squaws were permitted to take
part. No dance was complete unless accompanied with
a feast. It is safe to say, therefore, that the Indian in
his native state enjoyed life about as thoroughly as do
his civilized brothers.
The sun dance, the scalp dance and the ceremony
known as “striking the post' (which is often called the
war dance by the whites) are the serious dances of the
Sioux.
146 INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS.
The sun dance is a purely religious ceremony, or a
series of ceremonies, and was made in fulfillment of
promises to the sun when danger was encountered or
battles expected. In fact, if any wish were near to the
Indian's heart, and its consummation was beset by extra-
ordinary danger, he would make a vow to the sun to
give a dance if he were successful in the accomplishment
of his purpose. And inasmuch as the average Indian
always had some wish to gratify, the sun dance was in-
dulged in very frequently by the aborigine. This dance
generally lasted three days, and sometimes resulted in
the death of one or more of the participants, who under-
went the most excruciating torture during the time the
ordeal lasted. In case a death occurred during the
dance, ceremonies were at once suspended, as it was
believed that the Bad Spirit prevailed, and that some
other time would have to be selected when the Good
Spirit would be present and countenance the ceremonies.
At these dances the head medicine man directed
everything, and was in absolute control. In former
times, torture was a condition of manhood, and through
it the buck obtained entrance into the ranks of the war-
riors. Some of these self-inflicted tortures were horrible
to contemplate, but were born with that stoical indiffer-
ence to pain so characteristic of the American savage.
The temples in which the sun dances were held were built
in circular form, the centre being reserved for the erection
of a pole and the participants in the dance. From the
top of this high centre pole horse-hair ropes were sus-
pended, and one of the favorite methods of torture was


INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS. 147
for the warrior to have incisions made on both sides of
his breast, the cuts averaging four inches in length by
two inches in width. The flesh between this incision and
the bone was then lifted, and underneath this was passed
‘the horse-hair rope, on the end of which was fastened a
stout piece of stick to hold it in its place. The warrior
would then throw himself backward and forward for hours
and sometimes days and nights in his endeavors to break
lose from the fetters which bound him.
If dancing and his struggles did not effect his re-
lease, he would oftentimes be pulled into the air, and
some of his friends would add the weight of their bodies
to his own, in order to aid him in securing his release.
When once free from the rope he would pass for treat-
ment into the hands of the medicine chief, and from
thence to his admirers. Sometimes incisions were made
in the muscles of the back, ropes passed beneath the
flesh, and heavy weights tied to the end of the ropes, and
thus the weights were dragged about the enclosure by the
warrior until the flesh had been torn out. During the
period of torture the temple would be filled with excited
people urging the braves on with all sorts of expressions
and terms of endearment. **
The favorite mode of burial among the Sioux was to
build a platform high up in the stout limbs of a tree and
deposit the dead thereon, placing on and beside the body
the dead man’s finery, guns, ammunition and accoutre-
ments—in fact, all those articles which he used during
life, that could not be fashioned by the Indian himself—
the belief being that all these things were necessary for
148 INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS.
his well-being in the Happy Hunting Grounds. Food was
hung about the body in the branches of the trees, fresh
supplies being added from time to time. After being
deposited upon the platform, the body was covered with
furs, and over all was stretched a green buffalo hide, if it
could be secured, and fastened with thongs made from the
hide or intestines of some animal. Nearly all the head
chiefs of the Sioux were buried in this manner, as were
also many of the warriors and children ; but where such
burial was impracticable, four stakes were driven into the
ground and a platform erected thereon and the body
placed on it. Among some of the other tribes, bodies of
the dead were laid away in gulches and crevices. The
season of mourning among the Sioux was a matter left
entirely at the option of the dead brave's wives and rel-
atives, whose show of grief at the grave, and sometimes
for months afterwards, would have been a revelation to
the professional mourners among civilized people.
\

CIHAPTER XXI.
-ms
SAVED BY A PONY.
Among the Indians no sport or excitement could
equal a buffalo hunt. There was considerable danger in
it, but nothing to compare with the excitement and joy.
Every brave kept a trained pony for the buffalo chase
— one that was used for nothing else — and the intelli-
gence of some of those animals was wonderful. I
really believe the ponies enjoyed a buffalo hunt as
keenly as did their masters. When I became possessed
of my first buffalo pony the Indian from whom I got
it told me of all its good qualities, and laid particular
stress upon the fact that the animal always gave warn-
ing of approaching danger. I paid little attention to
the buck's talk at the time, but it was very distinctly
recalled on an occasion I am about to speak of.
The Bark creek country, along the Yellowstone
river, was a great feeding ground for the buffaloes, and
one season we moved our camp down there. Our supply
of meat had got very light, and we also wanted robes with
which to make lodges. We killed a great many buffaloes
during our stay in that locality, and were about ready
to move. It was decided to have one more hunt before
150 SAVED BY A PONY.
leaving, and preparations were made accordingly. The
buffaloes had drifted some distance from our camping
ground, and the Indians were in the habit of moving
camp from, day to day as the chase progressed. When
we started off in the last hunt the entire camp went
along, and as soon as the herd of buffaloes was sighted
the bucks jumped upon their ponies and began the
chase.
On this particular occasion I became so intent upon
running the buffaloes that I got a long way in advance
of the other hunters. I killed a couple of buffaloes and
got off my horse to skin them, fastening my pony to
the carcass of one of the dead animals. While I was
at work my pony began to act strangely. It would
run around in a half circle, then back again, and
seemed to be trying to attract my attention. I paid no
particular heed to the actions of the pony until I re-
called what its former owner had told me about its
giving warning of danger, when I untied it, jumped
upon its back and rode up on a hill to see if anything
unusual was occurring. Seeing nothing, I returned to
my work. The pony began to caper about worse than
ever, and I finally became so nervous and frightened that
I left the two buffaloes and started back to where we had
left the pack animals. I had not gone over two miles
before I heard shooting, and glancing over my shoulder
in the direction from which I had come, I saw a large
party of Crow warriors charging down onto our people.
I gave the alarm as quickly as I could, but before the
Sioux braves could get together the enemy had killed
SAVED BY A PONY. 151
nineteen of them and departed. My pony had sniffed
the danger while I was skinning the buffaloes, but I failed
to find the least sign of the attacking party, and sup-
posed my animal was restless at being separated from
the rest of the pony herd. If it had not been for the
actions of the pony I would have been caught in a nice
trap and lost my life. From that time on I always kept
a sharp lookout, and if my pony gave any signs that
there was danger in the air, I heeded him.

CILAPTER XXII. \
*memº ºmºsºm
ESTABLISHING. A. REPUTATION.
One winter we were camped on the Belle Fourche,
and our supply of meat had run so low that starvation
began staring us in the face. The snows had been so
continuous and deep and the weather so cold that we
were completely locked in. We had eaten up every-
thing — even the dogs. Nothing was left but the ponies,
and the Indians would not kill them. So we packed
up and started off toward the buffalo grounds. Arriving
at the Little Powder river we went into camp. We had
nothing to eat, and there was nothing in that locality to
hunt. Toward night I was lying in one of the lodges
thinking what a feast I could have on some good, fat
deer ribs. I thought of this so long that I could not
get it out of my mind, and I went out and caught up
my mule. The Indians asked me where I was bound for.
I told them I was going to hunt something to eat, and
was not coming, back until I got it. I took my mule
and started out, traveling the biggest part of the night
to where I thought would be a good place to find game.
I tied my mule up and started a fire and waited for day-
light. As soon as it became light enough for me to see,
ESTABLISHING A REPUTATION. 153
I got on my mule and started out on a search for game.
I had not gone far before I ran onto a big elk trail that
had been made the evening before, and I did not quit the
trail until I reached the elk. It must have been nine or
ten o’clock before I overtook them. As soon as I dis-
covered them I tied my mule up and stripped myself, and
taking nothing but my gun and ammunition pouches,
started to get in the lead of the herd, which I finally did
after running about three miles. Having accomplished
this much, I fixed myself in such a way that I could
watch them as they passed me, so that I could pick out
the fattest one in the herd. Watching them for a few
minutes as they passed by, and picking out one that I
thought was the fellow I wanted, I shot it. But instead
of the animals running after hearing the report of the
gun, as they generally do, the elk gathered in a bunch,
and this gave me a chance to kill thirty-one of them
before they got away from me. After I had finished
shooting them I went back to the place where I had left
my mule and brought it down to the place where I had
killed the elk, and cut up the slaughtered animals. Pick-
ing out the four best ones, I laid them to one side for
my own use. After I got through, I loaded as much as
I could onto my mule, and got up on top of the meat
and started for camp. As soon as I came in sight of
the village, some one gave the signal that I was coming
in with a load of game, and before I reached the camp
the squaws got every piece of meat there was on the
mule; so by the time I reached my lodge I had nothing
left. I told them that if they would get on their horses
154 JE STABLISHING A REPUTATION.
early next morning and go over to where I had killed
the thirty-one elk, they could get all the meat they wanted.
The next morning every Indian in the camp was on hand
with his pony, and it was but a short while before we
had more meat than we knew what to do with. At any
rate, we had more than enough to last us until we arrived
at the feeding grounds of the buffaloes. From that day to
the time I left the Indians, they put great faith in me as
a hunter; and as I was passionately fond of hunting
game, and desirous of learning all I could of the country
at the same time, I not only gained a big reputation as
a nimrod, but acquired a thorough knowledge of all the
Indians’ haunts, which was of great service to me in years
afterwards when I was on the plains with the soldiers.
I can say without boasting that there was not a canyon,
river, crag or creek in that great domain that I was not
more familiar with than with my own history; and as
many of the former game and Indian trails were after-
wards utilized as highways, I needed nothing to guide me
when with the troops but the old familiar landmarks.
I went over the ground so many, times that I fairly
carried a map of the country in my mind, and could
close my eyes and travel along and never miss a cut-off
or a trail. Night or day, light or dark, it made no dif-
ference to me; I always knew where I was and where I
was going. Gen. Crook once asked me if I knew every
rock in the country, and I don’t think I misstated a fact
when I answered that I came pretty near it. From the
Platte river to the British possessions, and from the
Black Hills to the Big Wind range of mountains, the
ESTABLISHING A REPUTATION. 155
country was an open book to me. No Indian in the
Sioux or any other nation had a more intimate acquaint-
ance with the mountains, rivers, trails and game grounds
in the country above mentioned than I possessed in
1876, or possess at the present time.

CHAPTER XXIII.
“THE WAY OF THE TRANSGREssoR.”
On one occasion two Indians and myself were se-
lected by the council and sent out to locate a buffalo
herd. We were to follow up the Rosebud and cross
over the Little Big Horn to the divide between the Big
Horn and the Little Big Horn rivers. Whenever the
Indians send members of the tribe out preparatory to a
hunt, they are supposed only to locate and not kill the
game, and report results to the council. We went on
and reached the divide between the two rivers. On
reaching there we could hear the buffaloes very distinctly,
but could not see them. The latter part of July and
during August is the buffalo “running” season, and the
bulls make such a noise that you can hear them for
twenty miles. By putting your ear to the ground you
can hear them further than that. On reaching the divide
we could hear the buffaloes so plain that we thought there
was no use in going any further, as we could report on
our return that there were plenty of buffaloes in that
vicinity; but while we were sitting there resting our-
selves, a buffalo bull and cow came across the flat. They
were right in below us, and we were so hungry for buf-
“THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR.” 157
falo meat that we thought it would be a good idea to
kill one of them and take what meat we could back to
where we expected to camp that night.
I, being the best shot of the three, was asked to go
down and shoot the buffalo. The animals being at some
distance, I crawled down to the flat, and secreted myself
in a place where I thought I was close enough to get a
good shot at them as they passed. Shooting as they
got opposite me, I hit the cow, breaking its back and
killing it almost instantly. After awhile the bull began
to sniff at the body of the dead cow, and as soon as it
got a smell of the fresh blood seemed to go perfectly
crazy. It ran around the cow's carcass, pawing the
ground and giving vent to the most terrible sounds, I
lay perfectly quiet and watched, knowing if I made a
move the bull would see and attack me, and, if it did,
nothing would prevent my being torn into ribbons or
stamped and trampled into a jelly. For fully an hour
the infuriated bull stood over the dead body of the cow.
I thought that if I could load my gun and get one
chance I could shoot the brute, and I did manage to
pour a charge of powder from the flask into the palm of
my hand ; but the moment I tried to empty it into my
gun the bull spied me, and with head almost dragging
the ground and tail sticking straight up in the air, it
came rushing madly toward me.
I had to think and act mighty quickly. Behind
where I had been lying I noticed a washout, about three
feet deep, and into this place I threw myself just as the
snorting, bellowing beast reached the edge of it. The
158 “THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR.”
bull was so close that I actually felt its warm breath on
my body as I fell into the washout. Being unable to
reach me with its head, the animal stood over the place
where I lay and pawed up the earth in its mad fury.
Almost paralyzed with fear and unable to help myself, I
could do nothing but remain perfectly quiet and wait
until the bull became exhausted or left the spot.
After what seemed hours to me, the animal went
back to the place where the dead cow lay, and I made a
second attempt to load my gun. But the bull saw my
movement and was back upon me in a twinkling. I had
time, however, to crawl further into the washout than I
had been in the first instance, and there I remained un-
til darkness settled over the earth and the buffalo bull
departed. I then crawled out of the hole and crept up.
over the hill where I left my two Indian companions.
They were sitting on the brow, of the hill awaiting an
opportunity to go down on the flat and get my body.
Having witnessed the antics of the bull and the attack
it had made on me, they felt certain that I had been
killed.
It is almost needless to say we got no buffalo meat
that night. When we returned to the village we re-
ported an immense herd of buffaloes, and the chase began
on the second day thereafter, but we did not say any-
thing about our adventure, as we had broken a very
strict law of the council and subjected ourselves to heavy
punishment. It was many months afterward before I
told the story, and the Indians were much surprised that
the bull did not overtake and kill me.
THE OLD WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A TEPI (NOT SHOE),

CHAPTER XXIV.
FACTIONAL DIFFERENCES.
Strange as it may seem, nearly every hostile Indian
village was “divided against itself.” That is to say,
each village contained two parties, or factions. Grouard
says this fact was very patent with the Uncapapas,
where Sitting Bull and his immediate family following
controlled on the one side, and No Neck and Gall on
the other, the latter faction having a slight advantage:
but Sitting Bull, being a first-class politician, could hold
his own. The cause of these factions was hereditary,
growing out of family differences generations back.
Four Horns was the hereditary chief of the Uncapapas.
His age in 1869 was seventy. His cousin, Black Kettle,
was the same age. These two men had reigned since
their youth, and were considered the head men of the
tribe. Both had been warriors, very fierce. Black Kettle
was the greater orator, and in the councils had more to
say and carried greater weight than any other man in
the tribe. When Grouard was led into the Uncapapa
village a captive, the No Neck and Gall faction was
the one that wanted to put him to death. The
other side, with Sitting Ball at its back, of course
160 FAOTIONAL DIFFERENCE S.
ſ
opposed the scheme, and the fine Italian hand of the
politician is again shown to advantage, for Grouard's life
was spared. Three years later, when Sitting Bull and
Grouald quarreled over the arrest of the half-breeds
(who had sold the Uncapapas whisky, and been the cause
of so much sorrow and trouble among the red men),
nothing would satisfy the revenge of the politician but
the blood of the man whose life he had preserved when
the boy’s capture was effected. It was then made a
family affair, and No Neck and Gall (who three years
previous had loudly demanded his death) were now fore-
most among his champions and protectors. Here is one
instance, at least, where factional strife and jealousy
saved a life.
Nearly all tribal trouble, says Grouard, among the In-
dians, is caused by the squaws. Even among the savages
“ there's a woman in the case,” and these factional dif-
ferences may smoulder for years before they lead to an
open breach. But when the trouble comes, it is serious,
and blood flows freely.
Grouard recalls an instance of this kind among the
Minneconjoux. About a dozen lodges of Sitting Bull’s
camp were on a visit to the Minneconjou village at the
mouth of Tongue river on the Yellowstone during the
summer of 1872. A great feast was in progress–the
Omaha dance was being celebrated: . A young buck was
beating the tom-tom and the best of feeling prevailed.
The factions in the Minneconjou tribe had been created
some years before, and a woman was at the bottom of
it. When mirth was at its height one of the young
FACTIONAL DIFFERENCES. 161
braves of the tribe was noticed to mount his pony, strip-
ped to his buff, and circle the camp several times, finally
ending his pilgrimage in front of the tom-tom player,
where he stood, enveloped in a blanket and holding a
bow and arrow in his hand. Suddenly he threw the
blanket aside and shot an arrow into the body of the
brave beating the tom-tom.
The effect upon the camp was like magic. The
dance immediately ceased, and pandemonium reigned.
Each of the young braves — the one murdered and the
murderer — were interested in the woman over whom the
feud had originally been raised. Faction stood against
faction, and murder was the order of the day. Grouard
says the weaker side had finally to flee. They were pur-
sued for a distance of forty miles, and eighty lifeless
bodies were strewn along the length of that awful trail
of vengeance. * t
Early in the fight Little Assiniboine had found
Grouard among the warring factions, and the two, in
company with Sitting Bull and others of the latter's village,
moved down the river and awaited the result of the battle.
“We do not want to take sides in this matter,”
said Sitting Bull.
The trouble over, the Uncapapa chief, acting the
part of peacemaker, took a dozen of his own ponies to
the Minneconjou camp and presented them to the rela-
tives of the tom-tom player who had been killed, and,
by his persuasive eloquence, induced the warring factions
to bury their differences and their dead. Grouard naively
remarked that “of course Sitting Bull got these ponies back
162 FACTIONAL DIFFERENCES,
afterwards,” but failed to inform the author whether they
followed him, or reached the Uncapapa village in advance
of the returning visitors. The scout doesn’t say so, but
the inference is irresistible that Sitting Bull being a
great horse thief as well as a practical joker, stole his
own ponies from the Minneconjou mourners in order to
“keep his hand in.”

CHAPTER XXV.
FASTING FOR EIGHT DAYS.
In the spring of 1874 I had an experience in fast-
ing that I am not likely to forget. The Indian village
was located at that time at the head of the Rosebud
river. Ammunition was so low that we scarcely had a
round apiece left. We were expecting a party in from
the agency with ammunition and other supplies, and had
been on the lookout for them for some time. It was
finally decided that a party should be sent out in
search of our friends from the reservation. The day be-
fore the party started what we thought to be smoke sig-
nals were discovered near the mouth of Tongue river,
distant some four days’ travel. Myself and two Indians
were selected to go to this latter place and escort our
friends into camp. We had no doubt but that the smoke
we saw was a signal from this party, who did not know
the exact location of our camp and were waiting for
some of us to come to them and bring them in. I was
the only one in the party who had any ammunition, and
my supply consisted of two cartridges. I took my bow
and some arrows with me.
Well, to make a long story short, we left the village
164 FASTING FOR EIGHT DAYS.
with but one day’s rations, as we did not expect to travel
far and went afoot. The second day out, as luck
would have it, I made two poor shots in an attempt
to kill something to appease our hunger, and we were
left at our wit’s end to secure food to keep us from
starvation. When we arrived at the mouth of Tongue
river we discovered where a fire had been, but it had
apparently been set by accident, and we had no other
alternative but to retrace our steps. There was no evi.
dence of a camp in the vicinity. On the way back to
the village all three of us became nearly insane from
hunger, having been eight days without a particle of
food. We were very weak. When we were within
twenty miles of the village I managed to kill three
prairie chickens with my bow and arrow. I tried to in-
duce my companions to eat as sparingly of the meat as
possible, but they were so ravenously hungry that I could
do nothing with them. I saved the necks of the chickens
for myself, which I roasted, and thus got the benefit of
the juice from the meat, which satisfied me until my
arrival in camp. My two companions ate every particle
of the bodies of the chickens raw. They were taken
very sick shortly afterwards, and did not live long
enough after reaching the village to enjoy another meal.
We were ten days making the trip.
Our condition, when we arrived in camp, can be
better imagined than described. We were literally skin
and bones, the flesh being so drawn on our faces that
we were almost unrecognizable by our most intimate ac-
quaintances. It was a long while before I dared eat
FASTING FOR EIGHT DAYS. 165
enough food to satisfy my hunger, my stomach being so
weak that the least bit of anything I ate nauseated me.
The distance we traveled was a little over three hundred
miles. The sufferings of my companions were terrible,
and the sight of their misery only added to my own, as
they were like little children, and looked to me for as-
sistance in everything. We became so weak that the
flesh on our bodies was in a constant quiver, and at the
end of the seventh day of our fast all three of us were
on the verge of insanity. How we ever lived to reach
camp is a great wonder, as, in our weakened condition,
we could travel but a short distance before being com-
pelled to lie down and rest. I had no way, of course,
of telling how much flesh I lost on the trip, but it didn't
seem to me that there was a particle of substance be-
tween the bones of my body and the skin which covered
them. I didn’t think I would pull through, even after I
got back to camp, and I am certain that if I had per-
mitted myself to eat heartily of what the Indians pre-
pared I would have gone the way my two poor compan-
ions went.
A few days after we got back to camp our Indian
allies came up from the agency, and we had no further
complaint to make over lack of ammunition. I was in
the hostile camp, but the friendly Indians who lived
upon the reservation found it greatly to their benefit to
hold the most friendly relations with us, and, as they re-
ceived their ammunition from the agents of the Great
Father, we had no need to give up our wild freedom
for supplies and promises which were never kept. I in-
#66 FASTING FOR EIGHT DAYS.
clude myself in the plural “we” because, being unable
to secure my freedom, and having made up my mind to
make a study of the character and habits of the Indian,
I was doomed to remain until Uncle Sam should force
the redmen to accept life on the reservations or I ac-
complished my purpose.

CHAPTER XXVI.
gº
MASSACRE OF THE GROS VENTRES.
One of the biggest Indian clean-ups within my per-
sonal knowledge occurred in the fall of 1868. I
was then carrying the mail from Fort Hall across the
big bend of Milk river. Some four hundred Gros Ven-
tres were camped on Beaver creek, about midway be-
tween Fort Hall and Milk river. The trail I traveled
took me within about nine miles of this village, and as
the country was very level I could see their tepis as I
passed along. One afternoon in the year above men-
tioned I noticed a good deal of smoke and some fire in
the vicinity of the Indian village, and could plainly see
Indians riding around in that vicinity on horseback.
The next morning at Milk river I was informed
that the Blackfeet had made a raid on the Gros Wen-
tre's village and killed every man, woman and child
they could lay hands on, about four hundred in number,
some of whom were confined to their lodges with small-
pox. Only two of the Gros Ventres managed to escape
from the doomed village, and these had gone to the big
bend of Milk river with the news of the massacre. The
- Blackfeet, after having killed all those found in the vil-
168 MASSACRE OF THE GROS VENTRES.
lage, rifled the lodges, drove off the ponies and set fire
to the tepis.
On one of my trips some time after the massacre,
I rode over to the scene of this killing and found the
half-decomposed remains of the dead scattered about in
every direction. So far as I know, none of the bodies
ever received burial, but were left to be preyed upon by
the wolves and other wild animals. In all my experi-
ence I do not know of another instance where so large
an Indian village was ever attacked by an enemy and
so completely wiped off the face of the earth.

CHAPTER XXVII.
ONE WAY OF COOKING MEAT.
After I became a privileged character in the Sioux
village—that is, permitted to run around as I pleased—I
went out with a scouting party that was going to Fort
Buford, north of the Yellowstone. A rumor had reached
the Indian village that a large body of soldiers was
camped on one of the tributaries of the Yellowstone near
Fort Buford. . It was said to be the intention of these
troops to move upon and attack Sitting Bull’s camp. The
Indian Scouting party was sent out to discover whether or
not there was any truth in these reports. Little Assini-
boine, Sitting Bull's adopted brother, asked me to go
along, and I accepted the invitation. I had never been
away from the village before, and supposing that the In-
dians supplied themselves with food for a trip before
starting out, I asked if I should take some meat with me
(straight meat, minus seasoning, being the only food we
had). I was told no ; that we would kill plenty of buf-
faloes on the road.
The second day out we discovered a big herd of
these animals some distance in advance of us. Some of
the best hunters in our party were sent out to head the
170 ONE WAY OF COOKING MEAT.
buffaloes off, and we succeeded in killing eight or ten of
them. After they had been dressed and quartered, the
Indians informed me they were going to cook the meat
and carry it along with them. I did not understand how
they could do any cooking without some sort of utensils,
and asked Little Assiniboine to explain. He told me if
I would wait and watch I could see better than he could
explain. The Indians began making preparations to cook.
They were eating the raw buffalo meat while they did so,
one of the choice morsels being the kidneys. It was my
first experience of that sort, and the sight sickened me ;
but I saw so much of it afterward, that I soon got over
feelings of qualmishness. Some of the bucks took their
blankets and went off in search of buffalo chips, while
others gathered a number of rocks.
After making a big fire with the buffalo chips, the
Indians put the rocks in the fire. Next they took the
paunch out of a buffalo, and, after emptying it of its
contents, turned it inside out and filled it about two-thirds
full of water—it must have held fifteen or twenty gallons.
Then they took four bows, stuck them in the ground and
fastened them together at the top, and suspended the
paunch filled with water between the bows. As the stones
were heated they were put into the water-filled paunch,
and the same result was obtained as if the water had
been placed in a tea-kettle and the latter put on the top
of a stove or hung over the fire. The stones were con-
stantly changed, those coming direct from the fire being
put into the water as fast as the others were taken out.
The meat was put into this boiling water and cooked,
ONE WAY OF COOKING MEA. T. 171
then taken out and packed up to make room for more.
In this manner all the fresh meat was cooked, and I had
taken my first lesson in Indian cookery. The redmen
only cut off the choice parts of the animals killed, but
we had enough meat to last us throughout our trip.
Another custom I learned on this trip was that of
shooting life into the sun. There was a total eclipse of
the sun one day, and as soon as the Indians observed the
shadow on the face of Old Sol, they threw down their
packs, drew their guns and kept up a continuous fire until
the eclipse had passed away. They were under great
excitement all this time, and I could not understand what
they were doing. When it was over, I asked Little Assin-
iboine the cause of the shooting, and he told me they
had been shooting the life and light back into the sun.
They really believed their action had prevented the light
of the sun from disappearing forever.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
GROU ARD REGAINS HIS FREEDOM.
It was in 1874 that I studied about a plan to go to
the agency at Robinson, called Red Cloud Agency, what
is now Crawford,” Nebraska. I just made up my mind
I would go in for a visit to see things in the fall. I
went in with a party that was moving backwards and
forwards. I didn’t stop but a short time; came back
and went down on Tongue river. The next spring I had
to use some means of going in, so I went out with a
war party going to Laramie river. The night they
started to make a raid on the ranches I took a young In-
dian and started for the agency, and I stayed at the
agency until the commissioners came out to make a treaty
for the Black Hills. They got me to go, with others,
some Indians and a couple of half-breeds, to make a
treaty with the hostiles. I had not left the Indians at
this time, but had got everything ready to do so. Louie
Reshaw went with me. The rest were Indians — some
one hundred agency Indians. I was instructed to induce
the Indians to come in and hold a council and make a
treaty. They sent out the necessary tobacco and every-
thing to create a friendly feeling.
*Named for Lieutenant Emmet Crawford.
FRANK GROUARD, AT 26.
BY PERMISSION OF John F. FINERTY.
SN,
Co-

GROUARD REGAINS HIS FREEDOM. 1
7
3
We found the Indian camp on Tongue river, on the
other side of where Dayton is now. They received us
in a very hostile manner. They were just on the point
of going on the war-path. I went out to Crazy Horse's
lodge as soon as I got in, and told him what we had
come for. His father went out and harangued the camp,
and told them it was best to listen to what we had to
say. Crazy Horse told me himself that all who wanted
to go in and make this treaty could go; but, he said, “I
don’t want to go.” He said that whatever the head
men of the tribe concluded to do after hearing our plan,
they could and would do. We had a council the next
day after we got in. That was my first meeting with
Sitting Bull after our trouble. He sent for me to come
to his lodge. I went over there, but I took Crazy Horse
with me. Sitting Bull asked me what I had come for.
Of course, he did not say much of anything, but tried to
make me talk. I told him just what I came for, and in-
formed him that the best thing he could do was to go in
and see what they wanted at Red Cloud Agency. He
said:
“You will hear what I have got to say at the
council.”
The council was held next morning. All the buck
Indians, about one thousand, made a big circle in the
center of the camp. Big Breast was the first one to
make a speech. He got up and refused flatly to come,
and told me his reason why. He didn’t want to sell
the land, but he said :
“All those that are in favor of selling their land
from their children, let them go.”
174 GROUARD REGAINS HIS FREEDOM.
He spoke for a long time, but to that effect.
Sitting Bull then got up and made a long speech.
It had the same purport. He said he would not sell
his land. He said he had never been to an agency, and
was not going in. He was no agency Indian. He told
me to go out and tell the white men at Red Cloud that
he declared open war, and would fight them wherever he
met them from that time on. His entire harangue was
an open declaration of war.
Little Hawk got up and spoke for Crazy Horse, the
latter refusing to talk. He said :
“My friends, the other tribes have concluded not to
go in, and I will have to say the same thing.”
Probably one hundred Indians got up and spoke.
Our Indians that had come out with us got up and
urged them to go back and see what was wanted and
what would be gained by making this treaty. At the
end of the council they asked us when we were going
to start back. We told them, and said we would be
there three days longer. They told us that all who
wanted to go would probably move across to the other
side of Tongue river, where Dayton is now ; that we
could take them and go back ; but that the majority of
them would stay there and fight it out. That night they
came very near massacring the whole of our party. I
know that Crazy Horse saved us. He told them there
could be no bullet shot into our camp. He said that he
supposed that when anybody came in amongst them
they would feed him, water him and give him a smoke.
He called the parties together who were the leaders of
GROUARD REGAINS HIS FREEDOM, 175
the proposed massacre, called them by name, and told
them it would have to be stopped. He said:
“My friends, whoever attempts to murder these people
will have to fight me, too.”
That cooled everything down and stopped it right
off, and there was no more said about it. We moved
away from there a day sooner than we expected. When
we got to the other side of Tongue river there was quite
a large camp there. These parties had pulled up and
intended to see us in to the agency. This was the be-
ginning of negotiations for making the treaty for open-
ing the Black Hills. That was the last time I went
back to the Indians. I got quite a little sum of money,
about $500, for making this treaty. That was the first
money I had received or handled since I had been cap-
tured by the Indians. It gave me the means to buy
what clothing I wanted, and I needed clothes badly. I
was dressed in regular Indian costume. I had long hair.
I stayed at the agency quite a little while. I was get-
ting familiar with the English language again. It was
two or three months before I could talk English without
getting the Indian mixed up with it. I had been all
this time (since my capture — nearly six years) without
talking a bit of English.
I stayed around there about a month before I
changed my costume. It was one day after dark that I
changed my garb. I had my hair cut and put on a
suit of clothes. That same evening, right after dark, the
interpreter, Bill Rowland, killed a Cheyenne Indian. The
killing of this Indian caused a whole lot of trouble, and
176 GROUARD REGAINS HIS FREEDOM.
nobody dared to go outside the agency. I was the only
man who could go out — who dared to go out — as all
of the Indians knew me. It took me two days to quiet
this trouble down, and nobody dared go outside the
agency while the trouble lasted. I stopped at the
agency for a couple of months. I got $60 a month for
stopping around for anything of that sort to happen.

F. GROU ARD, AT 45.

CHAPTER XXIX.
ºmsºmºsºmºsºsº
GROU ARD MEETS GEN. CROOK.
After I quit the agency I went to J. W. Deere's,
out in Nebraska, on Snake river, on his ranch, and
stopped. Deere and I were great friends before I was
captured by the Indians. Got acquainted with him on
the Missouri when I was carrying mail. I got acquainted
with a great many officers, among them Capt. Egan of
K company, Second regiment –“the White Horse Cav-
alry.” Deere had told me about the expedition which
was outfitting for the winter campaign, and through
Deere and Capt. Egan my name was sent to headquar-
ters as a scout — as a man who knew the country — and
Deere told me that if there were any men hired he
would send out and let me know.
So when they sent out orders to get men that were
acquainted with the Indian country for scouts, Egan and
Deere both thought that I would be just the man that
they would want. They sent out for me to come in. I
got in there along in the afternoon and was sent up to
the Post to see the commanding officer, who told me I
would have to go right over to Fort Laramie that night;
that Gen. Crook was there and wanted to see me.
178 GROUARD MEETS GEN. CROOK.
Fort Laramie was ninety miles distant. I went over
there on my horse that night, and reached there next
morning at eight o’clock. I met Gen. Crook there, and
also Louie Reshaw and Big Bat (Baptiste Pourier). That
was the first time I ever met Big Bat. I had an inter-
view with Gen. Crook. He asked me if I was acquainted
with the country and I told him I was. Wanted to know
if there was any possible show of jumping Indians there
in the winter time. I told him if he worked it right
there might be. He said he would give me one hundred
and twenty-five dollars a month from the time I left the
ranch. He said if I would furnish my own horse he
would give me one hundred and fifty dollars; but I didn’t
have a horse, and told him that he would have to furnish
the horse. So he said he would give me one hundred
and twenty-five dollars a month. He said that he expected
to start out the first of March. This conversation occurred
in February.
Gen. Crook gave orders to hire thirty men—men who
were supposed to know all about the country, and had
- good judgment. I had nothing to do with that. These
men were to act as scouts, so by the time the expedition
was ready to start from Fort Laramie, there were thirty-
five of us. Col. Stanton was put in as chief of scouts.
Everything was organized by the time we got to Fort
Fetterman, forty miles up the Platte. It was the first of
March when we started from there.
The names of the scouting party I can’t remember,
that is, all of them. Among them were Big Bat, Louie
Reshaw, Louis Shangreau and his brother John, Charlie
GROUARD MEETS GEN. CROOK. 179
Jennesse, Charles Reshaw, Little Bat (Baptiste Gaunier),
Ben. Clarke, Tom Reed (who afterwards became a noted
road agent), Speed Stagner (who at that time was guide at
Fort Fetterman), Joe Eldredge, and others whose names
have escaped my memory.
Nothing occurred until we got to Powder river. On
reaching Powder river, Gen. Crook wanted us to go out
on Tongue river and see if there were any signs of In-
dians in that part of the country. Leaving camp at dark
we went out about three miles. There were six of us—
Louie Reshaw, Big Bat, Little Bat, John Shangreau, Charles
Jennesse and myself. From where we stopped we
could see the flash of guns at camp, so we knew that
ther, was a fight of some kind going on. Turning around
and going back to camp, we found that the Indians had
jumped the camp just after we left, firing into the tents,
but no casualties occurred. The Indians fired a few shots
and left, but it set the camp in a terrible uproar.
The next day the command moved over to Crazy Wo-
man. That evening the general called a council from
amongst the scouts, asking if he could cross over with the
command to the forks of Clear creek—if it were possible
to go through the badlands. He wanted to cut loose
from the wagons. But there were none of the scouts
able to take him through. He wanted to make the trip
after night had set in. He asked me if I could take him
through. I told him that I could. He asked me what
the distance was, but I could not tell him the distance,
because I didn't know anything about miles. I told him
I could tell him what time he could get there ; that if he
180 GROUARD MEETS GEN. CROOK.
would start after dark he could get there at daylight on
a good fast walk. That was about the first talk I had with
Gen. Crook after he hired me. Of course I didn’t know
anything about the soldiers way of traveling, mode of
living, or much of anything else pertaining to the army.
It puzzled me. He gave orders for the pack train to be
ready at six o'clock that evening to cut loose from the
wagon train, leaving the latter to go back to Powder
river to wait there for the command. r
Everything being ready, we left there at six o'clock
at night. The weather when we started was fair, but
after we had set out sometime it commenced snowing,
and snowed from that time on until about nine o'clock
next morning. We traveled without any accident all night
at a good fast walk. Along towards daylight it com-
menced snowing fast and hard. I suppose the General
was getting anxious, for just at daylight he rode up to
me and said, “It is daylight.” You could not see fifty
yards ahead of you on account of the snow. I told him
then that we had almost reached the forks of Clear creek.
I could not see anything, and he asked me how I could
tell, and I said I could tell by the lay of the ground.
He asked me how far away Clear creek was, and I said
it was not more than two or three hundred yards. He
laughed and said, “I don’t see how you can tell it.”
We didn’t go over one hundred yards from where we
were talking till we got to the bank of the river, at the
spot where Kramer's ranch is at present, about four miles
from the forks. Gen. Crook did not express his satisfac-
tion in words. His mode of expressing pleasure was by
GROUARD MEETS GEN. CROOK. 181)
a rapid twinkling of his eyes, and my recollection is that
the General’s eyes twinkled very merrily when the com-
mand reached Clear creek. A big snowstorm was in
progress. We moved on the creek almost to the forks
before going into camp, and stayed there the rest of that
day.

CIIAPTER XXX.
LOOKING FOR INDIANS.
While in camp the General came over amongst the
scouts and tried to find out the different opinions held
by them as to where the Indians were most likely to be
found. The off-hand opinion amongst the scouts was
that the Indians were camped on Tongue river or the
Little Big Horn ; but I knew better than that from my
intimate knowledge of the Indians, but didn’t care to ex-
press an opinion different from the majority, so I kept
my mouth shut.
When we left Powder river the General asked me
where I thought the Indians were, and I said on Powder
river, and he asked me what made me think so, and I
told him from my knowledge of the Indians and their
mode of living in the winter time. I knew where they
ranged during the winter months. They had a certain
range where they went, just like animals. The next
morning the General wanted us scouts to go ahead of
the command and find whether there were any Indians
camped on Tongue river. It was the same scouting
party that started from Powder river—the same men
with two additions.
MAJOR E. G. FECHET, CAPTURER OF SITTING BULL.


LOOKING FOR INDIANS. 183
We crossed along the forks where the Big Red is
at present, and went on to the head of Dutch creek,
following it down to its mouth ; from there down to the
mouth of Prairie Dog, down to Tongue river. We
found a spot there where the Indians had been camped
about a month before. We waited there until the com-
mand came down and overtook us. It was to follow up
our trail. It took the command two days to reach that
point from Clear creek over to Upper Prairie Dog.
From there all the scouts except Stagner (there were
thirty-four of us started out) followed Tongue river
down and scouted in the vicinity of Tongue river to its
mouth on the Yellowstone, where we rested. The com-
mand was to go as far as Otter creek and wait there
until our return. Gen. Crook asked me how he would
know the creek when he got to it. I told him there
were three pine trees in a row, tight in the forks, all by
themselves, and were standing right on the bank of
Tongue river just above where Otter creek empties in,
and I said “when you see those pine trees, you go into
camp there.” He asked me if I knew every rock and
tree in the country, and I told him I came pretty near
it. He was surprised at my knowledge of the country.
The other scouts could travel along the road, but after
they gāt a little distance from the highway they didn’t
know a thing about the country.
We got back to the command two days afterwards.
There is where we found another old camp ground of
the Indians. We found where they had killed a Crow
Indian, quartered him and hung him up. It was on
184 LOOKING FOR INDIANS,
\
Tongue river just below the mouth of Hanging Woman.
His arms, legs, head and everything were hung up in dif-
ferent places on the trees down where the village had
been, and it had occurred before the command started.
I heard the Indians had killed a man there in camp. He
was stealing horses. It must have been done a month
before. There is nothing left of a horse thief after the
Indians catch him.
The General came over to the camp and called an-
other council of the scouts. He asked their advice as
to which way he would have to go to find the Indians.
That is where I got the enmity of Reshaw. He claimed
the Indians were on the Little Big Horn. I was positive
that I knew where they were, and asked the General if
he wanted to find the Indians. He told me it was
either a fight with the Indians or starvation, and he
says :
“We can’t starve; we have too many mules, but
only two or three days’ rations left.”
I said if that was the case and they did as I told
them, I would take them to the Indian village inside of
three days.
“That is what we want,” remarked the General.
I said, “I will start out at 12 o'clock, and want the
best horses there are in the command, or as good.”
“All right, you shall have them,” said he, and he
asked how many men I wanted. *
I said I would go by myself.
“All right,” he said, “I will give the orders. Do
you know of any horses with the command you would
like to have 3’”
LOOKING FOR INDIANS. 1S5
“I said there were two good animals in the com-
mand. I would like one or the other of them. He told
me to name them and he would have them fed for me.
One was his lead horse — a French-Canadian horse. I
told him, and he said :
“All right; I will have him fed.”
I told him to follow my trail. The snow was very
deep, so the command could follow my tracks, but, said
I, “I want you to keep these scouts all with the com-
mand, and don’t let them go away from you.”
He said he would do as requested. Of course, there
were several instructions that I gave him : To keep as
close on my trail as he could, and I told him also that I
should, probably, when I struck Otter Creek, follow up
the creek ; that he wanted to watch my trail very close
from there on. There were only three trails going to
Powder river, and I didn't know which I would take.
They were all Indian trails. They were the only ones
we could travel on very well. I left the command at
about 12 o'clock that night, and traveled until about 7
o'clock the next morning, when I reached Otter creek.
Just as I came on to the hills leading to Otter
creek, or just before, I got off my horse and crept up to
the hills to look up and down the creek with my glass.
Up the creek about five miles from where I was I saw
two Indians trailing a buffalo, or some animal track.
They were tracking down the creek towards where I was.
I watched them very close, all their movements, and was
sure just as quick as I watched them awhile that they
were out hunting, and that they had come from their
186 LOOKING FOR INDIANS.
village. It was quite a ride to the command, and I
didn't suppose it would come to where I was until
between 1 and 2 o’clock. I thought the Indians would
have plenty of time to get out of sight of the command
béfore it reached there. Well, I must have been watch.
ing them for about three hours. I did not dare to
move or show myself, but I was looking at the Indians
through my glass at this time, watching every move.
When they had got almost opposite me, they stopped
their horses all of a sudden and looked towards me. I
was not over a mile and a half from them, and could
almost see their features through the glass. All of a
sudden they commenced whipping their horses. There
were some pines right ahead of them, and they ran in
behind them and got off their horses, crept up on to
the brow of the hill and looked towards me. I could
just see the top of their heads. I thought to myself,
“What if they should see me?”
Well, I soon found out what it was that attracted
their attention. Pretty soon here comes all those scouts,
running their horses across the hills. They were scattered
for two miles along the hill in plain view of the Indians,
who stopped, and pretty soon started for the timber ;
but instead of going back the way they came they went
in a northeasterly direction towards Powder river, and I
knew they were going on to the main trail to Powder
river. In fact, when I saw that the scouts had scared
the Indians, I waited until they had got up to me. Then
I took four of them and started after the Indians to
keep them out of sight of the command. The Indians
LOOKING FOR INDIANS. 187
didn’t wait for us, but just kept going. But they were
out of the way of the command. They didn't see it. I
was satisfied that they couldn’t recognize whether we were
Indians or whites. Probably they would think we were
a war party of Crows, and go for camp as fast as they
could. We went across Otter creek for convenience. The
command had got there, and I told the General about it.
It made me mad, because the scouts had got away from
the conmand. I told him, that if he had kept the scouts
away the Indians would not have known of our coming,
and it would have been no trouble getting into their
camp.
The General said he gave them orders but they es-
caped the command. He said he didn’t think the com-
mand so close to me as it was. I explained that
they were getting close to the Indians, and I could not
tell how near we were, and that was the reason I had
asked him to keep the scouts with the command. He
asked me what I intended to do. I replied that I in-
tended to jump the village tomorrow morning if he
would give me four companies of cavalry. There were
ten companies in the command. The General asked :
“Do you think you can find a village 2"
I said, “I don’t think anything about it; I know it.”
“All right,” he says ; “I will give you six com-
panies, and will keep four with the pack train. When
do you want to start 2"
“I want to start about an hour by sun, so I can
reach the forks of Otter creek before dark,” I replied.
I was going to follow the back tracks of the In-
188 LOOKING FOR INDIANS.
dians, or that was my intention. The General said he
would have the horses fed what grain there was left —
there was only one day's forage left — and that the cav-
alry would be ready to start by the time I wanted
them, with Col. Reynolds in command.
Reynolds was Colonel of the Third cavalry. Gen.
Crook gave the necessary orders, and then called the
Colonel over to headquarters and gave him his orders
in my presence, no other person being present. His
orders were very strict — that we should jump the vil-
lage and capture the horses, take all the dried meat
we could get, and keep the Indian saddles and burn
the village, and to hold the village until we could
get a courier back to him. We were to capture the
Indians if possible. That was the purport of Gen.
Crook’s verbal orders to Col. Reynolds.
Everything being ready, we started and reached the
forks of Otter creek about sundown. Finding that the
Indians we had seen had come down the left hand
fork, I was almost satisfied where the village lay.
CHAPTER XXXI.
TEIE BATTLE WITH CFAZY HORSE.
That night was the coldest one I ever experienced
in the northern country. It was the night of the 16th
of March. Just as quick as it became dark I got off
of my horse and gave him to one of the scouts to lead.
I had to go afoot in order to follow the Indian tracks.
I footed it all night long. It was warm work for me.
I came to the Powder river divide some six miles from
Powder river, about 3 o'clock in the morning, and went
on to locate the village, leaving the command six miles
to the rear to await my return. One of the men with
me was Buckskin Jack, a notorious scout (who is now
traveling with Buffalo Bill), then a young man. He
might be called the “Midget of the Plains.” The other
man’s name was Phoenix. He was hanged afterwards
down on the Yellowstone for horse stealing.
When I started out it was sixty degrees below zero;
I think they said it was sixty-three. We had a couple
of doctors with us. Dr. Hartsoff, now ranking colonel,
was one of them. Just at daylight we came up a hill
above Powder river. There was an immense fog, so thick
I could not see anything. It had raised out of the
190 "E) fTHE BATTLE WITH CRAZY HORSE.
river, but I could hear the bells on the Indian ponies.
Of course that satisfied me that there was a village there.
I sent Buckskin Jack back after the command, telling
him to bring them up as soon as possible, while I went
down and located the village. I could not tell where it
was, on account of the fog. I was up about one thous-
and feet, and it was straight down to the village. I got
about half way down the hill when the fog raised, so
that I could look in under it and see the village down
below me, about a mile off. I could see the tops of the
lodges, and the horses, and could hear the Indians talk.
An Indian was haranguing the camp, and it was from
this one that I learned that a party of the Indians had
gone back the trail to find out who we were, for they had
seen us on Otter creek; but instead of going the upper
trail, they had gone the lower one, so that we had missed
them. I found this out through the crier. I cou'd hear
it as plain as could be. I could not tell how large a
village it was from where I stood. They had camped in
a low bed of a river, or where a river had been perhaps
a hundred years ago, right under a big bank. The In-
dians had camped in the circle of this old river bed.
There was timber scattered all through the bottom, and
they were camped amongst this timber. I supposed there
were some one hundred lodges, and from seven hundred
to one thousand Indians. I came back up on the hill.
Just as I reached there, Col. Reynolds and his company
came up close to me. Said I:
“Colonel, here are the Indians. Now, that I have
found them, all you have got to do is to fight them.”
He says, “What am I going to do ."
THE BATTLE WITH CRAZY HORSE. 191
“Fight them Indians,” I replied. “I suppose that is
what you want.” "
He says, “What can I do *
He seemed lost. I says:
“Fight them Indians; that is all you have to do.”
“How will I place my command 3’ he asked.
If I had known as much then as I do now, I would
have told him terrible quick. I said :
“You wanted me to find the Indians. Now, there
they are. Do what you want to with them.”
IIe asked : “Can you place the command 2 Tell
me how to place it?”
I said : “Yes, I can do that. Send some down this
way, and some down the other way, and keep the Indians
from going into the hills.”
“Will you place them 7” he asked.
I replied : “Yes, I will place one party, and send
another man with the other.”
He gave the orders. Captain Egan of the Second
Cavalry was to make the charge down the river into the
village. Captain Mills of the Third Cavalry was to sup
port him. Captain Moore of the Third was to keep the
Indians from going into the hills. Captain Noyes of
the Third Cavalry, with the scouts, was to help run the
ponies off. I sent Buckskin Jack with Captain Noyes,
Little Bat and Charlie Jennesse with Captain Egan’s
company. I went with Captain Moore's battalion to put
it into position. It was 7 o'clock when we started to
take our positions. It was 9 o'clock before we got into
position. It was 10:30 when Captain Egan charged the
village.
193 THE BATTLE WITH CRAZY HoRSE.
After I put Moore's battalion into position I started
down across the flat towards the village. I suppose it
was about half a mile from there right down across the
flat. The horses and everything were right in sight, and
we had been in sight ourselves ever since seven o’clock,
and the Indians had not seen us. We had been just
where, if they had looked up the hill, they would have
seen us, and they had not caught sight of us. I went
right down across this flat and walked up to within twenty
yards of the village and commenced talking to the In-
dians before they knew there was anybody around. By
this time Capt. Egan had come up in sight.
This was the 17th of March, 1876, fight. When I
got within twenty yards of the camp I yelled to Crazy
Horse. I recalled what he had told me during my en-
deavors to secure the Black Hills treaty — that he would
rather fight than make a treaty — and told him that
now was the time to come out and get all the fighting
he wanted, as the troops were all around his camp!
He did not have time to answer. The charge had
begun. Egan's command came right up by the side of
them. The battalion that I had stationed to keep the
Indians fuom going into the hills, instead of going to the
position assigned it, commenced firing from the position
it held. I don’t know whether they thought they
were firing at the Indians or not, but they were firing
into Egan's company. I suppose they imagined they
were fighting the Indians. I had to go in with Egan's
troops to keep from being shot. We charged right down
into the center of the village. As Capt. Egan entered
THE BATTLE WITH CRAZY HORSE. 193
the village, Hospital Steward Will Bryant was riding
alongside of him. As he dashed in among the lodges an
Indian came from one of the tepis aiming to kill the
Captain. Bryant, seeing that Egan was in danger, ran in
front of him, his horse receiving the bullet in its head,
killing it instantly. Bryant took in after the Indian on
foot. He was a foot-racer, but he didn’t catch him,
though he ran the Indian in amongst the lodges.
The horses and soldiers charged right through the
village. They fought, I guess, for thirty minutes, when
Capt. Mills' command came to their relief. When Mills
came to their relief the Indians went right into the hills,
as there was nobody to stop them or head them off.
They went right into the rocks. We had no chance to
kill or capture many of them, but secured the village
and horses and one Indian. I forget how many soldiers
there were killed. Everything belonging to the village
was destroyed by fire, even the saddles and meat. The
Indians escaped to the hills with the loss of but one
buck and one old squaw, and she was not lost, as she
was captured after being shot; and as nobody in the com-
mand wanted her, she was left there.
She told me that Sitting Bull's village was situated
down the river about sixty miles. The village we had
Westroyed was Crazy Horse's village. I knew this village
by the horses. Knew every horse there was there. The
old Squaw told me Sitting Bull’s village was at the mouth
of Beaver creek, but I had suspected this all the time.
It was about an hour after the fight commenced that
Col. Reynolds sent for me, and told me to be ready to
194 THE BATTLE WITH CRAZY HORSE.
move at one o'clock, as he wanted to go to the mouth of
Clear creek that night. That was the first I knew of the
orders he had given. I asked him if he was going to
keep the dried meat and saddles, and he said he had
given orders for everything to be burned; that he would
not let any of the soldiers take anything ; they had pos-
itive orders for everything to be burned up. We cap-
tured between twelve and fifteen hundred head of ponies.
I asked the Colonel then to give me some soldiers to drive
the ponies up with, as I only had twelve men to drive
the herd. He said:
“No; the scouts will have to drive them.”
I said, “There are too many for them to drive.”
“If they can’t drive them,” he replied, “shoot them.”
I said, “They have not got ammunition enough to
shoot them.”
And he answered, “What they can’t kill, let go.”
Captain Egan then came up and said, “I am the
rear guard, and I will see that the ponies get into camp
tonight.”
Soon after this we left there. I put a Scout with
each battalion. I put two men in two battalions, and I
took a battalion myself, so as to guide them during our
night's travel and keep them from getting lost. I was
not very long going that twenty miles with one battalion.
We got there just at dusk ; was expecting to meet Gen.
Crook there. - Not finding him in camp at that point, we
went into camp there ourselves. It was about nine o’clock
before the other battalions came in. It was about twelve
o'clock before the ponies came in with Captain Egan as
rear guard.
THE B. [TTLE | WITH CRAZY HORSE. 195
I asked the Colonel then if he would give me a
guard for the ponies during the night; but he said
the men were too tired and he didn’t think the ponies
were in any danger ; that they would be perfectly safe
turned loose, or that the scouts could guard them until
morning. I caught up my horse and mule, tied them up
and told the scouts to do the same with theirs, together
with the horses they wanted to ride, and turn the rest
loose ; made down a bed and went to sleep. I didn’t
think I had been asleep ten minutes before somebody
came and woke me tip, and told me the Indians were
driving off the ponies. I jumped up, and it was just
break of day. Off about one half mile from camp were
the Indians driving off the ponies. I went to the Colo-
nel and woke him up, asking him for a company of sol-
diers to go out and capture the ponies. He told me the
men not having anything to eat, were both hungry and
tired, and he could not send them out. He told me I
had better take the scouts and go out and see what I
could do with them. There were probably twenty-five or
thirty Indians driving off the ponies.
I didn’t send the scouts out. I just asked if there
was anybody wanted to go, but there were only four
men volunteered — Little Bat, John Shangreau, Buck-
skin Jack and another scout. We saddled our horses
and started after the Indians. They were going in the
way that Gen. Crook was coming from, and I thought
most probably that I could meet him ; and as the Gen-
eral had four companies of soldiers it would have been
a sure thing that we could have taken the horses away
196 THE BATTLE WITH OFAZY HORSE.
from the Indians. I overtook the Indians about two
miles from camp, and had a kind of running fight with
them until about 1 o'clock. We recaptured the horses
and they got them back again. They did this two or
three times. There were too many of them for us, and
the last time we tried to recapture the ponies we
charged in on them, and they shot Little Bat's horse
out from under him, and left him afoot, and he had to
get on behind me.
It was not very pleasant, fighting the Indians in
that fashion. They saw that one of us was afoot and
came right down for us. I kept them at bay as much
as I could, and finally they left us alone. We were
about twenty miles from the river on the head of Ot-
ter creek when this occurred, and not meeting the Gen-
eral I turned around and started back. It was dark
when we reached where the camp had been in the
morning, but it had moved. We followed the trail right
up Powder river. We went up about ten miles and
saw the camp seven or eight miles above us. We
could see the reflection from the camp fires.
On our way we ran into another lot of Indians. It was
perfectly dark and cloudy and I heard something com-
ing along the trail and waited for them to come up,
and who should it be but some Indians driving
horses. I sent one of the boys ahead of the horses
the Indians were driving, and one of the scouts and
myself went to head the horses off, and the other two
scouts fired into the Indians. Not knowing how many
there were of us, the Indians just dropped everything
THE BATTLE WITH CRAZY HORSE. 19?
and ran. We captured the horses, and Little Bat got an
animal to ride from there to camp, and we drove the
other animals in with us.
There were eleven head of horses. The horses had
been stolen from George Harris, who lived on the Platte
river. The Indians had been to Harris' place, driven off the
horses, and were taking them down to Crazy Horse’s
camp, not knowing of the battle that had been fought
there. So from there we were fixed comfortably until we
got into camp. We got within about half a mile of
camp, when who should we meet but Gen. Crook, who had
been watching for us. He came down and met us, say-
ing he had been watching there ever since dark, about
one-half mile from the command. The first thing I knew
he asked me if that was me, and I said it was, and he
came up and shook hands with me. He told me he had
just caught up with the ranks, and had got into camp a
little before sundown. I was plumb played out. I had
been three nights without any sleep to amount to any-
thing. The General didn't say much to me that night.
When I got to camp, Captain Egan came over to where
I was, and says:
“Frank, I have something warm for you.”
He took me over to his quarters and gave me a cup
of coffee and some hot biscuits and butter, and I think
that was the finest meal I ever ate in my life. After
I got through eating, the General told me to go to bed,
and I don’t believe it was over five seconds before I was
asleep. The Indians and soldiers were fighting all night,
but I never heard it. The General woke me the next
198 THE BATTLE WITH CHAZY HORSE.
morning, and the camp was about ready to move. I
never knew anything about the fight. He asked me about
everything that had occurred at the Crazy Horse battle,
and why the orders were not obeyed. I didn’t spare them
a bit in the world. I told him just how the whole thing
had been run. He didn’t say anything to them, but said
that as Col. Reynolds was in charge of the command, he
didn’t want to take the charge away from him. He never
said he was going to put him under arrest. He just sim-
ply went to work and put him under arrest, and never
told anybody. Reynolds was not relieved of his com-
mand until we got to Cheyenne.
[Grouard, when the battle with Crazy Horse oc-
curred, knew nothing of the stories concerning himself
that were being circulated in the command, nor did he
find out anything about them until Gen. Crook explained
matters on the way to Fort Fetterman at the close of
the campaign.
He says the indecision of Reynolds nonplussed and
worried him. He did not then even dream that Reynolds
and some other officers of the command suspected or
doubted his loyalty ; but after his talk with Gen. Crook
everything was made plain. Fear of an ambush — a
vision hatched in the jealous brain of some “carpet
warrior ’’— prompted, so Grouard says, Reynolds in order-
ing a retreat, when every principle of war and manhood
demanded the exact reverse. It was, as Captain Bourke
so tersely expresses it, “one of those things that no man
can explain.” General Crook divined the motive, how-
TIIE BATTLE WITH CRAZY HORSE. 199
ever, and in his soldierly way placed the responsibility
where it belonged. The facts related by Grouard are
admirably borne out by the narrative of Captain Bourke,
who, in speaking of the battle says, that “both Mills
and Egan were doing excellent work in the village (de-
stroying it), while the pony herd was held by Noyes.”
He does not try to find any excuse for the failure of
Reynolds to fortify his position and send word to Crook
(who was at no great distance with four companies) to
come at once to the assistance of the rest of the com-
mand. He must have known that the captured pony herd
consisted of over one thousand head ; that the number of
saddles run up to nearly two hundred ; that a thousand
robes and furs were in the captured tepis; that a great
amount of ammunition had fallen into the hands of his
soldiers, and that “tons upon tons of meat' had been
left by the fleeing savages ; yet, in the face of all this,
Reynolds not only abandoned the camp of Crazy Horse,
but did it so precipitately that the dead and wounded
were left for mutilation and butchery. And Captain
Bourke says, with considerable feeling, that it was whis- .
pered among the men “that one of our poor soldiers
fell alive into the enemies hands and was cut limb from
limb.” The captain does not make this statement from
his “ own knowledge,” but adds, “I can only say I be
lieve it to be true.”
Referring to the bivouac at the mouth of Lodge
Pole creek on the night succeeding the battle with Crazy
Horse, Captain Bourke says there was neither feed for
the animals nor rations for the men —“not even for the
200 THE BATTLE WITH CRAZY HORSE.
wounded men, of whom we had six.” The men, after
two days’ hard riding, marching and fighting, were com-
pletely tired out, and no attempt was made to place a
guard over the captured pony herd; and “even when the
loss was discovered ”—when the report was carried to
Reynolds the following morning, as detailed by Grouard,
that the Indians were driving off the ponies —“no at.
tention was paid and no attempt made,” concludes
Bourke, “to pursue and regain the mainstay of Indian
hostility.”
When Crook reached camp about noon on the day
after the battle, says this same authority, he was very
much gratified to learn that the attempt to find the village
of Crazy Horse had been successful ; but he could not
hide his chagrin and disappointment upon discovering
that the dead and wounded had been left in the hostile
camp, and that his soldiers were suffering from cold and
hunger when a great abundance of furs and provisions
had been lost to the command through the hasty with-
drawal from the Indian village of the victorious troopers.
There was no other alternative for General Crook but
to abandon the campaign and return to Fetterman, which
meant a long, suffering journey of over one hundred and
eighty miles, with the thermometer thirty degrees below
zero. From Fetterman the troops were distributed to
various forts pending the organizing of the spring cam-
paign.
“We had no beef,” says Bourke, “as our herd had
been run off on account of the failure to guard it ; we
were out of supplies, although we had destroyed enough
FRED NEWCOMER'S RANCH, PRAIRIE DOG VALLEY, SHERIDAN COUNTY, WYOMING.

THE BATTLE WITH CRAZY HORSE. 201
to last a regiment for a couple of months; we were en-
cumbered with sick, wounded, and cripples with frozen
limbs, because we had not had sense enough to save the
furs and robes in the village.”
There is the story from the standpoint of as brave
a soldier as ever carried weapon in defense of country;
and yet there has been a monstrous waste of sentiment
over the fact that the battle with Crazy Horse led to a
court martial and other unpleasant recollections for Gen-
eral Reynolds.
Grouard maintains that the key to the immediate
settlement of all the Indian’s troubles was lost in failing
to follow up the advantage gained through the capture
of the Crazy Horse village. The village of Sitting Bull,
situated but sixty miles below where Crazy Horse was
found, would have fallen into the hands of the troops
also had proper precaution been taken to capture the flee-
ing savages under Crazy Horse. But somebody blun-
dered, and the year 1876 was destined to bear awful
fruit from this terrible error. With Crazy Horse and
Sitting Bull conquered, the world would never have re-
ceived the shocks it felt successively when news of the
battle of the Rosebud, the Little Big Horn, the War Bon-
nett and Slim Buttes electrified and horrified the people.
—AUTHOR.]
CHAPTER XXXII.
*mºmºsº
CLOSE OF THE SPEING CAMPAIGN.
The third day after the Crazy Horse battle, General
Crook asked me how long it would take me to go up to
the wagon train camp at old Fort Reno on Powder river.
I told him three days or so. On the morning of the
third day after we had started for the wagon train, Gen.
Crook wanted me to take a message to Fort Reno, and
asked me how far it was. I said about thirty miles. He
said :
“I want you to get ready so as to start right away.”
I said, “All right.”
“What time can you get there?” he asked.
I said about twelve o'clock.
He said, “If you can make it by twelve, we can by
three.”
I started on the trip. It was just about fifty miles
from there up to the wagon train. I got there at twelve
o'clock. The wagonmen were eating their dinners when
I arrived. The General and soldiers got there at dark.
“I would like to buy land by your measurement of
miles,” Gen. Crook remarked, when we met.
I told him I didn’t know anything about a mile, and
CLOSE OF THE SPRING CAMPAIGN. 203
I guess he believed it, for he never again asked me about
a mile as long as I knew him. I was guided solely by
the time I could get there. This is the Indian way of
telling distances. We laid over at Reno the next day,
and the following morning started out. Gen. Crook told
me to go in his ambulance, and said he was going right
through to Fort Fetterman. I got in and went with him.
On the trip to Fetterman he spoke of the stories that
had been told against me by the scouts; the bad reputa-
tion they had been giving me. He said that he had not
paid any attention to what they had reported, and that he
had as much confidence in me as if he had not heard
any such stories. This March campaign in 1876 was the
opening of what is known and called the Sioux war.
After the Crazy Horse fight the troops were withdrawn
from active service until May.
Reshaw had been trying to put up a job on me
from the time I had started out by myself on Tongue
river. He had circulated stories around amongst the
officers, and told the General that I was in communica-
tion with the Indians every night ; that I was fixing up
a plot with them to have the command massacred. That
was the story he tried to make them believe, and
Gen. Crook told me that all the officers believed it ex-
cept himself. Reshaw tried to make them believe that I
was working against the command ; that my object in
leaving the Indians was to run the command into the
hostile country far enough to give the Sioux a chance to
kill off the last one of them – Crook, and his officers as
well. Of course, I didn't know anything about it, so if
didn’t affect me the least bit.
204 CLOSE OF THE SPRING CAMPAIGN.
You see, Reshaw was jealous of my knowledge of
the country and the Indians. I had not met any of the
officers very much. Deere was the only man I was ac-
quainted with ; and the officers, not knowing me or any-
thing about me, were suspicious after hearing these stories
about me. Louie Reshaw was a brother of John Re-
shaw. The latter killed a soldier at Fort Fetterman in
1866, and fled, going among the hostile Indians to live.
He was supposed to have been one of the instigators of
the war waged by the redmen afterwards, which led to the
massacre of Col. Fetterman and his command at Fort
Phil Kearney that same year. This war continued until
the treaty was made with the government at Fort Lar-
amie in 1868. John Reshaw was pardoned by the pres-
ident in 1868, the pardon being one of the treaty stipu-
lations, but was killed shortly afterwards by his brother-
in-law, an Indian. Louie had been interpreter for the
different treaties and councils they had with the Indians,
and acquired quite a reputation, and made two or three
trips to Washington. He was a half-breed.

º
ſºft\S)
CHAPTER XXXIII.
*-*.
workING OFF “BILE.”
Shortly after the command reached Fort Fetterman,
all of the scouts were discharged except Louie Reshaw,
Big Bat and myself. Reshaw was sent over to the Red
Cloud Agency, Bat was sent to Fort Laramie and I was
stationed at Fetterman. Speed Stagner was also recom-
mended as guide at Fort Fetterman. I was ordered to
Cheyenne from there on the court martial of Col. Rey-
nolds. Court had been convened to try him for disobey-
ing orders at the Powder river fight with Crazy Horse.
I didn’t stop in Cheyenne but a few days, and then took
a stage down to Sydney, and went from there to Fort
Robinson. I was ordered down there. That is where I
first found out that Louie Reshaw was trying to get me
killed.
Shortly after I reached there I went down to a
dance one night, just below the Agency. Of course, Re-
shaw and his relatives were there, five or six of them.
After I got through dancing I went to the door. It was
very dark outside, and I stood there cooling myself. The
door was near the corner of the house, just about a foot
and a half from the corner. While I stood there some-
206 TVORKING OFF “BILE.”
body tried to fire a revolver in my face. The only
thing that kept me from being killed was that the cap
flashed. I think it was an old-fashioned Colt’s revolver,
for there was no report — nothing but the flash of the
cap. The pistol was held right in my face. I took
right after the party, but I could not catch him. I
had no idea who it was, and didn’t find out for some
time. About two weeks later I was at another dance.
This was a half-breed dance. Big Bat came in and said:
“You had better be on the watch. They are going
to try and kill you to-night, and have fixed a plan to
shoot you. I will watch while you dance.”
He didn’t dance any. In the room—it was small
—we could only dance one set. There was an up-stair
room in the house, and steps leading up to it. Bat
was sitting on the third or fourth step. He had told
me that whenever he gave me the signal I wanted to
be ready. I was to watch every move that was going
on. I was dancing so that I could face Bat, when he
gave me the signal. I saw that there were four half-
breeds standing against the wall, and Bat nodded his
head as much as to say:
“Watch out for that party.”
After he had given me the signal, I heard him call-
ing to me to watch out. As I looked around, he had
got after these men, having seen them make some
kind of a move ; and before I could get my partner
out of the room, Bat had all four of the half-breeds
piled up in the corner, going after them right and left.
He never used a revolver—only his fist ; but he was a
powerful man, anyway.
WORKING OFF' ‘‘BILE.” 20',
Of course, after that we didn’t think any more of
dancing. The dance broke up. I had to keep on
the watch all the time. Bat told me who was trying to
take my life. Two of these men were his brothers-in-law.
He married a sister of Reshaw. Two of them were Re-
shaw's boys. He told me then that Louie was the insti-
gator of it, and was trying to down me; for me to be on
the watch for him. I never told the General about this,
but Captain Egan got to hear about it, and asked me to
tell him the story, and I told him as far as I knew what
had happened. He told the General about this trouble.
The General asked me about it, but I never told him any
thing about it. Shortly after this Reshaw was discharged
from the service.
When the expedition was getting ready to go on its
summer campaign, the General gave me orders to hire
some more scouts. Not knowing why he had discharged
Reshaw, I hired him over again, with other parties. Af-
ter we had started on the expedition, Crook asked me the
reason why I had hired Reshaw. I told him he was one
of the best men I knew of men not being very plenty—
the kind of men we wanted. That was all that was said
about it. After the summer’s campaign we went back to
the agency, and Reshaw was discharged again. In the
winter campaign I got orders to hire some more men, and
I hired Reshaw. After I gave the list to the General,
he told me why he discharged this man ; told me if I
hired him again, he would discharge me. So that ended
the Reshaw trouble, for after the fall (1876) campaign,
Reshaw was never hired again by the government.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
IN A TIGEIT PLACE.
It was in May of 1876 that the summer expedition
was fitted out at Fort Laramie ; that is, it congregated
there. Fetterman was the starting point. While the ex-
pedition had moved to Fetterman and was getting ready
and waiting for other troops and some Indians to join the
command, I was sent out to look after the crossing of
Powder river with ten picked men. The Platte being
high, we took our things over in a boat, swam the horses
across and started for Powder river. I had not gone
more than five miles from the Platte before I found that
the Indians were watching on both sides of us. Paying
no attention to them, but watching very close, I kept on
my way to the crossing of the Cheyenne river, and halted
about fifty yards above the road where it crosses the
creek, where I made preparations to camp for the night.
It was along about three o’clock in the afternoon when
we went into camp. The Indians had followed me and
were watching all my movements. But I was watching
theirs, also.
Not saying anything to the men about the Indians,
I ordered them to get their supper ready, as we would
COL. W. F. DRUM, COMMANDER of Fort YATES IN 1890-91.

IN A TIGHT PLACE. 209
pull out after dark, and I told them to get a big pile of
wood up so that we could make a great fire on leaving
camp. I had two pack mules loaded with provisions pick-
eted near the camp, and seeing that it would be impossi-
ble to keep the animals with us, ordered the men to take
the rations on their saddles, hide the pack saddles and
let the mules run loose. After the sun had gone down
and darkness began to settle, we built a big fire, put
dummies up all around the fire and made our beds down.
Of course, we had to leave our blankets, in order to fool
those Indians. I was certain they were watching pretty
close every movement we were making.
Taking our horses down into the bed of the creek
and smuggling our saddles off to them, we saddled up
where we could not be seen. I had the men show them-
selves around the fire with the dummies, and then we
quietly slipped off to the bed of the creek where the
animals were. Mounting our horses we went up the river
in a westerly direction, almost the opposite direction we
had originally been traveling. We moved very carefully
until I thought we had got out of reach and hearing of
the Indians. Then we gradually turned and made a cir-
cle in the direction that I wanted to travel. Making a
very wide circuit, we traveled until almost daylight, and
went into camp in a deep ravine and waited there for
daylight. In the meantime, shortly after leaving our first
camp, I heard the firing of the Indians. I supposed they
were shooting at the dummies, which I found out after-
Wards to have been the case. They had crept up to the
place where the camp was and fired in on the dummies,
210 IN A TIGHT PLACE.
supposing we were there. Not finding us, they had
started off in the direction they supposed we were trav-
eling, that is, toward Powder river. The next morning
I could see them riding over the country looking for
our tracks.
Keeping our horses in the ravine, and a close
watch-out, I camped there the balance of the day, leav-
ing there after dark and traveling most of the night
until I reached the head of Dry Fork of Powder river.
From there on I had to travel in the daytime. I was
expecting to meet the crow Indians who were to join
the command, and had to be on the watch for them and
could not travel after night. The next morning after
starting out I kept the men traveling in a ravine every
chance that I could, or out of sight, so that they
could not be seen from a distance, and kept on ahead
of them myself. After traveling that way for about ten
miles I found out that the Indians had discovered us,
and had laid a very nice trap for us to fall into. The
men were some distance behind me when I discovered
this. I got off of my horse, crept up on the highest
point I could reach and watched the redskins’ movements.
The trail which I was traveling ran right down into
the forks of the creek. The Indians were stationed on
each side of this trail, so that as we passed through they.
would have a cross fire, and this would not have left
us much chance to get out if we should have happened
to get in there; but I could see their plans so well that
as soon as the men came up to where my horse was, I
sent them right back the way they had come. After
IN A TIGHT PLACE. 211
they got some distance away and were out of sight, I
again got on my horse, rode up on the hill where the
Indians could see me, and waited there a little while.
Then I carelessly rode down, as if I was in no hurry
to leave the locality.
As quick as I got out of their sight, however, I
started back the way the men had gone as fast as my
horse could carry me. Overtaking them, I gave orders
to travel rapidly in the direction they were going until I
overtook them — not to stop until then. I then went
back to watch the movements of the hostiles. I saw there
was no show for me to reach Powder river, so had made
up my mind, to go back to Fetterman. As soon as the
Indians found out that I had discovered them, they turned
back and gave us a very close chase. I remained behind
long enough to discover the intentions of the Indians,
when I made quick time in rejoining the party I had
sent on ahead, and pushed them toward Fetterman as
rapidly as the horses would travel. We arrived at the
fort after dark, but the Indians did not give up the chase
until we were so close to the command that they were
afraid to follow any further. I have always considered
that trip as close a call as I ever had, and I have been
in positions where the chances of escape were so slight
that I would have played the Indians for favorites if I
had been buying pools on the outcome.
CHAPTER XXXV.
*====
THROUGH THE HOSTILE COUNTRY.
When our scouting party reached Fetterman the
command was camped on the other side of the river, and
I left the men on this side and went over myself and
told the General what had happened. The General told
me that he was ready to move the command across the
next day, which he did. They were two or three days
getting everything across — the beef cattle, rations and
ammunition.
It was the third day after crossing that the command
started. The same scouts we had on the spring campaign
were with us. Of course the command didn’t move very
far the first day, being late in starting, and the next night
they camped near the place where I had camped a few
nights before. This was the second night out. The In-
dians were around watching all our movements. I had
seen them that day. They were watching around the
command very close. I had the beef herd in charge, and
was given two men to herd the cattle at night.
Along about 11 o'clock a shot was fired, and I heard
an awful yell. The yelling continued for several-minutes,
indicating that the person was in great misery. I jumped
THROUGH THE HOSTILE COUNTRY. 213
on my horse and went out to the herd, and found one of
the herders in the throes of death. An Indian had rode
up to him and shot him, and then stampeded the beef
herd. We overtook the beef herd, and got some of the
animals back, but some of them we never did get back.
We did not try to follow the Indians. Don’t recollect
whether the herder died in camp and was buried, or
whether he was taken to Fort Fetterman and buried, as I
left there the next morning at daylight.
I had orders to go to Powder river to find out if that
stream was fordable. In going this time I took two com-
panies, or one battalion. Leaving the road to our right,
our first camp was on the head of the Seventeen Mile
creek, a dry fork of Powder river. One of our men
accidentally shot himself. I was sitting right opposite
him when he did it. He let his gun fall suddenly, and
it turned over and hit a rock, the bullet entering just
about the Calf of the leg. The wounded man was sent
back to the command the next morning, but as he could
not be sent to Fetterman then, he was kept in camp,
and was afterwards brought to the north, where he died,
and was buried on the banks of the Big Goose, near
where the city of Sheridan now stands. [The body was
taken up in 1892 and transferred to Custer, and buried
in the military burying ground.] The next day we re-
sumed our journey and reached Powder river that evening,
but found no Crow Indians. The river was fordable.
In the morning we started back and joined the command.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
---
A PERILOUS JourNEY—“LEFT HAND.”
Gen. Crook was much disappointed at not meeting
his allies, the Crow Indians, at Powder river. He had
telegraphed to the agent of the Crows, and sent an order
up to have a lot of the friendlies enlisted as scouts.
They were to join him at the crossing of Powder river.
He was very anxious, because he had not heard from
them. He asked me if it were possible for me to reach
the Crow agency, knowing that the entire country was
infested by Sioux—filling the whole country between Fort
Fetterman and the Crow Agency. I told him I would
make the attempt, but it might be possible that I could
not get through. He asked me what way I wanted to go,
and how many men I desired. I told him I would take
two men with me. I would be back in fourteen days if
I lived. Of course, there was a great deal of danger.
I took Louie Reshaw and Big Bat with me.
Leaving camp that night, we started on our trip,
reaching Crazy Woman creek next morning. We laid
over in daylight and traveled by night. We killed some
buffaloes on Crazy Woman, and cooked up what meat we
wanted for the trip, so as not to make any more fires, and
A PERILOUS JOURNEY-‘‘LEFT HAND.” 215
left there at daylight the next morning. In crossing
Clear creek a bear jumped us, and I had to kill it. I
didn’t want to fire off the gun, but there was no help for
it. While riding up onto the hill after this, we discov.
ered a big camp of Indians right down on the creek be-
low us. Of course, I had to go up into the mountains
to get out of their way. The Indians had not heard the
shot when I killed the bear, which was lucky for us.
Keeping in the mountains all day, we went down on the
Piney creek after dark. I intended to stop there for the
night, but I ran on to a camp of Indians, so that I had
to keep on the move. I reached Little Goose creek
some time after daylight, and stopped there until the next
morning. The next night we camped on Twin creek, but
seeing the Indians at all times of the day, it kept me all
the time dodging out of their way, so that I could not
travel very fast.
The next morning we resumed our journey. We had
not gone far when we came on to five Indians asleep
in the brush ; but not caring about any trouble, I left
them alone. Crossing the Little Big Horn and going
over on to Soap creek we camped there for the night.
Early the next day, right after starting out, we discov-
ered a large number of Indians trying to trail us up.
They were on our tracks. Of course, I kept out of
their way as much as I could. Reaching the mouth
of the Black Canyon, on the other side of the Big
. Horn river, I saw three Indians horseback. That being
the Crow country, I thought possibly they were Crows.
I always carried a pocket looking glass. I used it for
216 A PERILOUS JOURNEY-“LEFT HAND.”
signaling the Indians. Taking the looking glass out I
signaled to these three Indians. As quick as they saw
the signal they went down on the other side of the
hills. A short time afterward two more Indians came
in sight way below old Fort Smith, and I signaled to
them. As soon as they discovered us they went in
the same direction the others had taken.
After waiting awhile to see if I could dis.
cover any more Indians, I started for the river, intend-
ing to make a raft to cross on. That was the first
time after leaving Crazy Woman that I had to make
a fire. We left Louie Reshaw cooking some dinner,
while Big Bat and myself went down the river to
make a raft. Bat thought it was better to have a
smoke before we started, so we sat down on the river
bank and commenced smoking. Looking around while
enjoying my smoke, I saw that a large party of In-
dians had tracked us and were charging down on us.
I told Bat the Indians were charging, and told him to
yell to Louie to catch the horses, which he did. We
were quite a distance from them. At the same time
Bat was looking over on the other side of the river.
He says: “Yonder come a lot more Indians on the
other side.” There were probably five or six hundred
Indians charging down on us from both sides of the
river. So we ran for our horses, got on to them bare-
back and came over on to the bank of the river. We
had nothing to do but fight it out. There was no
chance of our getting away, and I told Bat we would
get on to the flat and fight as long as our ammuni-
TONGUE RIVER CANYON, ABOVE DAYTON, WYOMING.
*, cº

A PERILOUS JOURNEY-“LEFT HAND.” 217
tion lasted. Reshaw wanted to run for the mouth of
the canyon; but there was no use of our trying to run,
and Bat told him so; that if he started to run he
would shoot him himself.
It was hard to tell what Indians they were. I
could not hear anything but the noise of their horses’
hoofs, and I suspected that they might be Crows, for I
had never known the Sioux to be on that side of the
river; but I was certain that the other party were Sioux.
Looking around for them I found they had turned, had
got out of sight, so that we only had this other party to
contend with, if they were Sioux. Of course, being such
a distance we could not tell whether they were Sioux or
Crows. The river being in between us I thought prob-
ably it would kind of check them for awhile, and we
would have the advantage of them crossing the river,
and the great trouble was they never hallooed or spoke
a word or signaled until they got to the bank, and when
they did reach it they plunged in and commenced swim-
ming across as if there had been no river there.
All we could see were the heads of the horses and
the Indians. The Indians that were on the bank com-
menced firing on us and began hallooing and giving their
war-cry, to let us know what tribe it was. Bat was very
well acquainted with the Crows, as he had lived with
them for some time. They called him the “Left Handed.”
As soon as he found out that they were Crows he com-
menced yelling that he was “Left Hand,” and as quick
as they heard the name they stopped all hostilities. You
could hear them hallooing “Left Hand ” from mouth to
218 A PERILOUS JOURNEY-“LEFT HAND.”
mouth all over the line. The Indians were strung Out
for a mile, and you could hear nothing but “Left Hand.”
The Indians swam right across to where we were,
and shook hands with us, and I thought they would go
wild with joy at meeting “Left Hand.” They asked us
where we were from, where we were going and what was
our business. ” We told them we were from Gen. Crook's
command (they called Gen. Crook Lone Star); that we
were going to their village ; that we had come after them.
They went to work and made a raft and put us and our
trappings on it. Three or four of them got hold of our
horses and swam them across. After we got across the
river, there was shaking of hands for two or three hours.
Indians are very demonstrative, and it don’t make
any difference how urgent the business is they are on, if
they meet a friend or friends they drop everything else
to renew old associations. The Crows were overjoyed at
seeing Bat, and every one of them wanted to grasp his
hand, after which Reshaw and myself were greeted in
the same friendly manner, so that our meeting might be
termed a great American hand-shaking tournament. This
turn of affairs was very pleasant for us, as we had an
ticipated a fight, and it wouldn’t have taken much of a
guesser to name the victors if such a contingency had
arisen. -
Finally we got onto our horses and went to the
Crow camp, which was about eight miles from the river.
The Crows had seen my signals with the looking glass,
but never thinking that anybody besides an Indian would
know their signals, they had supposed we were the ad-
A PERILOUS JOURNEY-‘‘LEFT HAND.” 219
vance guard of a war party of Sioux. That night, after
reaching their camp, they held a council, and I told
them what we came for, and asked them if they would go
with us; telling them that Lone Star (Gen. Crook)
wanted them to be sure and come, and had telegraphed
them before through their agent. But they didn't seem
much in favor of going with us ; that is, they didn’t say
anything whether they would go or not. Black Foot and
Crazy Head being there, the next day I got them to-
gether and talked to them alone. They gave me their
promise ; said they would call another council of all the
young men.
The next day they called another council. If they
would not go I should start back the next day — so I told
them at the council; that I was going the next morning,
and that anybody who wanted to go with me should let
me know. They told me if I would wait they would
move down on to the river the next day, and a lot of
young men would go with me. So I waited over. The
next day the camp moved to the Big Horn. Then there
was more delay. They were very changeable about the
business. They were a little afraid of the Sioux, or
something, I could not tell what. An Indian by the
name of Old Crow, who seemed to be one of the head
men, came to me and asked me when I intended to start,
and I told him the next morning. He says, “All right,
I will go with you.” So he got onto his horse and
went around haranguing the camp, telling his people that
he was going to start, and asking what they were afraid
of. Of course it made a great deal of talk. The next
220 A PERILOUS JOURNEY_** LEFT IIAND.”
morning he and three others came up to where we were
making a raft ready for the trip. -
It didn’t take long to make a raft, and we soon
crossed the river and went into camp on the other side.
Before night we had one hundred and fifty-nine Indians
ready to start back the next morning. Next day we
started back to the command, camping on the Little Big
Horn that night, sending scouts out down the river to
find out whether the Sioux were in the immediate vicin-
ity. Next morning we were killing buffalo; could not
travel very far on account of airing the meat, and camped
at the head of Owl creek. The command was to be
camped at the mouth of Prairie dog, and was to wait
there for me until my return ; so I came through the
Wolf mountains. After going on top of the mountains
I could see the camp right at the forks of Big and Little
Goose creeks.
The Indians, on seeing the camp all in white tents,
thought it was a Sioux village, and it was all that I
could do to keep them from turning back. They began
to suspect that we were connected with the Sioux, and
were trying to bring them into camp to have them killed.
I told them that what they saw were the tents of the
troops and the soldiers of Lone Star's camp; that if they
would wait there I would leave Bat and Louie with them
and would go into camp and send an officer out to meet
them. They consented to that, and promised to stay
there until the officer came. So I went on into camp,
rode up to the General's tent and told him to send Capt.
Burt (he being acquainted with the Crows) out to meet
A PERILOUS JOURNEY”—“LEFT HAND.” 221
them ; that they refused to come until I sent some
officer out. Capt. Burt immediately started out to meet
the Crow Indians.
The General supposed that I had been killed. How
they got the information that I had been shot I don’t
know, but they showed me a paper in which it was stated
that I had had a terrible fight with the Indians and had
been killed by them. I suppose some of the reporters
wanted to write something, and put that down. The Gen-
eral was very glad to see me when I got back. I was
three days over time. Along about three o'clock the
Crow Indians arrived. About two hours afterwards the
sentinel gave the alarm signal. Going out to learn the
cause I found it was the Snake (Shoshone) Indians, with
Tom Cosgrove as their interpreter, coming to join the
command. I think he had one hundred and sixty-four or
one hundred and eighty-two Indians—I am not quite
certain which. Their chief, Washakie, was with them.
During my absence Gen. Crook had given an order
to mount the infantry, and the only animals available
were the mules belonging to the wagon train. On the
day following the arrival in camp of our Indian allies
(June 15) the work mules were turned over to the tender
mercies of the infantrymen (or vice versa), and the first
circus the Goose Creek valley ever beheld begun. Many
of the infantry (“walk-a-heaps,” as the Indians called
them), had never been in a saddle in their lives, while
none of the mules had ever had a saddle on their backs,
and, under supervision of experienced riders, the officers
proposed to give the infantry a lesson in equestrianism.
222 A PERILOUS JOURNEY-‘‘LEFT HAND.”
I never saw so much fun in all my life. The valley for
a mile in every direction was filled with bucking mules,
frightened infantrymen, broken saddles and, applauding
spectators. Having nothing else to do, the entire com-
mand took a half holiday to enjoy the sport, and some
of the most ludicrous mishaps imaginable were witnessed.
But the average soldier is as persevering as the mule is
stubborn, and in the end the mule was forced to surren-
der. The city of Sheridan is now located on the immense
flat where this incident occurred, and I never pass down
the streets of the place but what the memories of those
ludicrous scenes are brought vividly to mind, and I laugh
as heartily as I did on that bright June day in the mem-
orable year of 1876.

COLONEL GUY W. HENRY.
BY PERMISSION OF JOHN F. FINERTY.

CHAPTER XXXVII.
BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD.
The General asked me, upon my arrival in camp,
from my trip to the village of the friendly Crows,
if I had any idea where the Sioux camp was. From
all signs I had seen I supposed they were on the Rose-
bud, and I so informed him. He told me that he
wanted to start as soon as he could get ready. Two
days afterward the infantry was mounted on mules, and
the command started for the Rosebud, leaving the wagon
train upon the Big Goose, about a mile from the forks.
We traveled in light marching order, taking as little
with us as possible — much less than we needed. The
first night out we camped on Tongue river, near the
mouth of Big Goose, the next morning starting off
through the hills over to Badger creek, sending out two
parties of scouts from there to try and discover the
Sioux village.
There being plenty of buffaloes along the line of
march, the Indians killed hundreds of them. Camping
on the Rosebud, we ran onto a Scouting party of Sioux
just before reaching the river, but from the direction they
took I was satisfied the camp was on the Rosebud,
224 BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD.
down the stream. The next morning we moved down
toward the Big Bend of the Rosebud and went into
temporary camp there to await the report of the scouts
who had been sent out to discover the hostile village.
We had not reached the Big Bend before we went into
Camp.
It was the morning after the scouts had been sent
out that the Sioux were reported to be coming in large
numbers. Then we moved down to the Big Bend. There
we laid down our arms and rested without unsaddling.
Our Indian allies had caught up their horses ready for
anything that happened to turn up. The scouts com-
menced to come in then, telling us that the Indians were
coming. Not having had much experience with the
troops I could not tell whether they were ready to meet
the enemy or not ; but I supposed that they were al-
ways ready for a fight, and did not pay much attention
to them. It was not long before an Indian they called
Humpy, a little hunch-backed Sioux, came riding down
over the hills as fast as his horse could carry him, hal-
looing “Sioux * As he came into camp he said the
Sioux were charging on us, and almost at the same time
you could hear the Sioux war-cry.
The Indians and the scouts jumped on their horses,
and just then the Sioux came charging down, over the
hills. But the troops were not ready to meet the at-
tack, so the Crows met the first charge of the Indians,
and I believe if it had not been for the Crows, the Sioux
would have killed half of our command before the sol-
diers were in a position to meet the attack. It was a
BATTLE OF THE IROSEBUD, 225
hand-to-hand fight for quite a while between the Crows
and Sioux. It was on a kind of plateau where they
were fighting, and the troops were down under the hills.
I charged up the hill when the Shoshones and Crows
started out, so that I could see everything that occurred.
It was all of twenty minutes, I think, before the soldiers
appeared over the hill. As soon as the soldiers came
up and commenced fighting, the Sioux fell back. The
coming together of the Sioux, Crows and Shoshones I
think was the prettiest sight in the way of a fight that
I have ever seen. They were all mixed up and I could
hardly distinguish our allies from the hostiles. After the
fight became general with the troops, our Indians drew
back. I passed where one Crow Indian was sitting on
the ground, and he didn’t act as if he was one bit hurt.
He was watching the fight between the Indians, and
every once in awhile he would yell like a madman. He
was unable to get on his feet, having been shot just
above the knee, and the bone was terribly shattered.
IIis horse was lying dead by his side. He seemed to
be so interested in the fight that he had entirely forgot-
ten his wound. The soldiers could not tell one Indian
from another, but the redskins knew each other all right,
and if a man was familiar with them he would know ;
but it was very hard to keep the soldiers from firing
into our allies after the troops became engaged with the
Sioux, mistaking the Crows and Shoshones for the enemy.
After the troops came up they formed into line and
commenced driving the Sioux back. Then the Shoshones,
Crows and Sioux commenced separating. The friendly
226 BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD,
Indians came back, and the Sioux went on the hills.
The soldiers kept driving the hostiles back until they got
them on the big flat beyond the first line of hills. Col.
Guy V. Henry, with his battalion, was stationed on the
left, and he was ordered up the river. Mills' battalion
was down below on the right, and the other battalions
were in the centre of the fight. The Crow and Snake
Indians got scattered out, but would keep in behind the
troops out of harm’s reach as much as possible. I was
close to the position held by General Crook, and he was in
about the centre of the field. The General ordered a
battalion to charge the Indians and drive them back.
In the charge that followed, one poor fellow’s horse
ran away with him, and the animal went right for the
Indians, just as the order had been given to retreat. The
horse kept straight ahead after the command had driven
the Indians away and turned back, and ran up to within
forty or fifty yards of the hostiles before they turned.
Of course, they began shooting at the horseman, and as
his horse began to turn, both of his hands were shot off
at the wrists. When he came past me both of his hands
were dangling. The Indians had turned the horse by
firing at it. I rode up on the hill, and the poor fellow
was calling for some one to check his horse. I rode very
rapidly and tried to get in ahead of the frightened ani-
mal, and then I could see his hands dangling from his
wrists.
I tried to head off the horse, but the animal got in
ahead of me, started down the divide and went right
through the troops, never stopping for anything. The
BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD. 227
Indians were on that side of the flat fighting, and he
went through the line of troops towards them, and I went
after him. I got up as close as I could to him. My
horse was a fast one, but I could not reach the runaway
animal’s bridle, and, whip as much as I would, I was una-
ble to grasp it. If he had been a man of any nerve or
had not lost his head, he might have helped turn the
horse by grasping the reins with his wrists. I hit the
horse over the head as hard as I could in an effort to
turn it, but the horse was stubborn and frightened and
was not very easily turned. I told the wounded man to
throw himself off when I hit the horse the second time.
He gave me one look that I will never forget. I got up
as close as I could to the horse and hit it on the side of
the head. The blow turned the horse some, but not clear
around, and the wounded man threw himself off. The
horse went right in among the Indians and was lost to
view. The wounded man picked himself up and ran
down over the hill out of sight. The Indians were shoot-
ing at us all of this time.
When I got back to the command the Indians were
going down below us, and the General had sent all of
his aids out with orders to the different commanders.
It was right after this runaway horse incident occurred
that the Indians got Col. Henry's battalion in a tight
place, and seriously wounded that gallant officer. The
Indians were pressing down pretty close. Henry's bat-
talion received an order to retreat, but I do not know
who gave the order. I suppose while standing there
Col. Henry was shot. As quick as they commenced to
228 RATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD.
retreat the Indians rushed down. Yute John made a
dash to the place where the Colonel fell, got off his
horse and turned it loose just as the Indians got to Col.
Henry. Single-handed he stood them off until the sol-
diers commenced shooting and drove the Indians away.
In the meantime, Yute John, as quick as the Indians
were driven away, put Col. Henry on his back and carried
him over to where Henry’s battalion was. If it had not
been for this Indian (Yute John) Col. Henry would
have been killed and scalped where he fell. The bat-
talion that was on the other side of Henry had retired
at the same time that Henry’s battalion retreated.
I saw an Indian run right in among the soldiers as
they were retreating. I don’t know whether it was done
purposely, but I saw a soldier hold up a gun as though
he were giving it to this Indian ; but I think the gun
was held up to protect his head from a blow aimed at
it by the Sioux. There were several soldiers killed. It
was right after Henry was shot that I went over to where
Gen. Crook was. There were no aids there with him,
so he told me to go down and tell Capt. Mills to drive
the Indians out of the Rosebud canyon. I went down
and carried the order to Mills. It was but a short time
afterwards that one of the aids came to me and said the
General wanted to see me. When I got to Crook, he
said:
“I am going to move down the Rosebud canyon,
and want you to go with two battalions as far as you
can down the defile and find out whether the village is at
the other end of the canyon or not.”
PATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD. 229
I went down the canyon with the two battalions.
After getting down into the rocky pass, and seeing what
was going on amongst the Indians, I became convinced
they would not attack us; would not pay any attention
to a detachment when they wanted the entire command.
I was aware of this as quick as I got in there. They
wanted to draw the entire command down into this can-
yon and massacre every soul in it. I had not been in
the canyon twenty minutes before I knew what was going
on. The canyon rose to a height of one thousand feet
on both sides of us. The Indians had all of this forti-
fied. I had got almost through the canyon with the two
companies when an aide-de-camp (Col. Nickerson) over-
took us. The Indians had tried so hard to draw the
command down into the canyon that the General thought
it was a fresh attack made, and wanted the two battalions
to come back to the field and take the Indians in the
rear—wanted us to come up in behind them. So, going
up into the right of the canyon on the north side, we
attempted to come in behind the redskins. But the In-
dians were watching all our movements, and before we
could get in behind them they had drawn off.
[“Subsequent investigation shows what an awful fate
we escaped by obeying Crook's order to file out of the
trap by our left flank. Immense piles of felled frees in
our path and on the sides of that savage ravine showed
where the Sioux had lain in ambush for our approach.
Half a mile further on, and not a man of our battalion
would have come out alive. The five companies of the
Second, following to support us (the Third Cavalry)
230 BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD.
would have been massacred without fail, for there was
no room to deploy or rally. The Indians held the tim-
ber barricades in front and flank. They would have
closed upon our unguarded rear, and another horror
would have been added to the long and ghastly cata-
logue of Indian-American warfare. . However, a miss is
as good as a mile, and we felt duly thankful that we
escaped being the awful example of that unfortunate
campaign.”—Finerty’s Warpath and Bivouac.
“In one word,” says Capt. Bourke in his “On the
Border with Crook,” “the battle of the Rosebud was a trap,
and Crazy Horse, the leader in command here, as . at the
Custer massacre a week later, was satisfied he was going
to have everything his own way. He stated afterwards,
when he had surrendered to General Crook at the agency
(Red Cloud) that he had no less than six thousand five
hundred men in the fight, and that the first attack was
made with fifteen hundred, the others being concealed
behind the bluffs and hills. His plan of battle was either
to lead detachments in pursuit of his people, and turning
quickly cut them to pieces in detail, or draw the whole
of Crook's forces down into the canyon of the Rosebud,
whence escape would have been impossible, as it formed
a veritable cul de sac, the vertical walls hemming in the
sides, the front being closed by a dam and abatis of
broken timber which gave a depth of ten feet of water
and mud, the rear, of course, to be shut off by thousands
of yelling, murderous Sioux and Cheyennes. That was
the Sioux programme, as learned, that day, or afterwards
at the agencies from the surrendered hostiles in the
spring of the following year.”
BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUL). 231
It will be seen from what both Finerty and Bourke
say of the Rosebud canyon that Grouard had noted things
very accurately, and divined the purpose of the Sioux
to a nicety as he passed down the “cul de sac * in advance
of Mill's courageous battalion. He knew, because his
six years' experience with these same Indians had been
a practical lesson to him, that death awaited the entire
command at the lower end of the canyon. One of the
great wonders now is why Crazy Horse, when it was dis-
covered that Mills' battalion turned to leave the death
trap, did not fall upon and annihilate it. The explana-
tion seems to be found in the words of Crazy Horse
himself. He wanted the entire command, and even then
had hopes of getting it. Failing, he repeated the tactics
then attempted at the Custer battle, and, with the same
force he had thrown against Crook, caught the five troops
of the Seventh Cavalry (rank and file) to the very last
Soul. —AUTHOR.]
I had seen all I wanted to see to convince me of
what was going on, and when I got back the General was
just ready to start down the canyon. In fact, the whole
command had started when I met it. I asked Gen.
Crook where they were going. He said:
“Down to take the village.”
“You can’t go through the canyon,” I told him.
He asked why.
I said, “You can’t go through. They will kill your
whole command if you attempt to go through there.”
He could not believe that ; laughed quietly about it.
I did everything I could to dissuade him, and the only
232 BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD.
way I could prevail on him to abandon the undertaking
was by telling him there was no ammunition in the
command. The scouts didn’t have any, and a great
many of the companies didn’t have any, and when the
General gave orders to find out how much ammunition
there was, it didn't average ten cartridges to the man;
and that was the only thing that stopped him. In fact,
it was the only thing that saved his command, because
he would have made the attempt to go through the
canyon under any other circumstances.
When Crook made up his mind to do anything, it
was generally done. The only way I could convince him
not to go was by satisfying him of there being no am-
munition in the command. I had seen all day how the
Indians and troops were firing, and especially the scout,
so I asked the General to find out the amount of ammu-
nition each company had. He found he would have to
wait until he got more ammunition from the wagons be-
fore taking the offensive. We went into camp at the
lower end of the battle-field. As far as the fight was
concerned, I don’t think that either side could claim a
complete victory, although the troops held the ground.
The Indians had tried to lead the troops down through
the canyon where they had fortified on each side ; and if
the troops had ever gone down through there, there would
not have been one of them left to tell the tale, for the
Indians were fixed in such a way that they could have
cross-fired them without getting hurt themselves, or could
even have rolled rocks down in amongst them and crushed
them.
CAPTAIN JOHN G. BOURIKE.
BY PERMISSION OF JOHN F. FINERTY.

BATTLE OF THE I: OSEBUD. 233
Seeing this while I was going down through the
canyon is the reason I tried so hard to stop the command
from going through. To sum up the whole battle, there
were twenty-eight soldiers killed and fifty-six wounded.
One of the Indian scouts was killed and three of them
wounded. On the Indian side there were thirteen of then
killed, that I know of, and I could not tell the number
that were wounded, but there were a good many of them.
The next morning we started back to the wagon train.
Starting up the Rosebud, we camped at the head of it.
After we had been in camp sometime the Crow allies got
stampeded for some cause, drove in their ponies, saddled
them up and left us, starting back for their village, taking
their wounded along with them, and nothing we could say
or do would stop them. Breaking camp next morning, we
reached the wagon train the same evening, and the wagon
train and a large escort of troops were sent back to Fet-
terman for Sapplies.
\
[Finerty, the Chicago Times war correspondent, who
in common with the soldiers shared all the dangers of
the campaign, entered into the battles with all the spirit
of a free lance and had many narrow escapes from cap-
ture and death, still “kept one eye open" as a news-
paper correspondent. He missed little of detail and lost
nothing of the horrors or humor of battle. I here quote
(with his permission) from his wonderful volume (War-
path and Bivouac) some portions of his account of the
battle of the Rosebud :
234 BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD.
Gen. Crook divined that the Indian force before him
was a strong body — not less perhaps than 2,500 war-
riors—sent out to make a rear guard fight, so as to
cover the retreat of their village, which was situated at
the other end of the canyon. He detached Troop I of
the Third Cavalry, Capt. Andrews and Lieut. Foster, from
Mills to Henry, after the former had taken the first line
of heights. He reinforced our line with the friendly In-
dians, who seemed to be partially stampeded, and brought
up the whole of the Second Cavalry within supporting dis-
tance. The Sioux, having rallied on the second line of
heights, became bold and impudent again. They rode
up and down rapidly, sometimes wheeling in circles,
slapping an indelicate portion of their persons at us, and
beckoning us to come on.
One chief, probably the late lamented Crazy Horse,
directed their movements by signals made with a pocket
mirror or some other reflector. Under Crook’s orders,
our whole line remounted, and, after another rapid charge,
we became masters of the second crest. When we got
there, another just like it rose on the other side of the
valley. There, too, were the savages, as fresh, apparently,
as ever. We dismounted accordingly, and the firing be-
gan again. It was evident that the weight of the firing
was shifted from our front, of which Maj. Evans' had gen-
eral command, to our left where Royall and Henry
cheered on their men. Still the enemy were thick enough
on the third crest, and Colonel Mills, who had active
charge of our operations, wished to dislodge them. The
volume of fire, rapid and ever increasing, came from our
BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD. 235
left. The wind freshened from the west, and we could
hear the uproar distinctly.
Soon, however, the restless foe came back upon us,
apparently reinforced. He made a vigorous push down
our center down some rocky ravines, which gave him
good cover. . Just then a tremendous yell arose behind
us, and along through the intervals of our battalions,
came the tumultuous array of the Crow and Shoshone
Indians, rallied and led back to action by Maj. George
M. Randall and Lieutenant John G. Bourke, of General
Crook’s staff. Orderly Sergeant John Van Moll, of Troop
A, Mills’ battalion, a brave and gigantic soldier, who
was subsequently basely murdered by a drunken mutineer
of his company, dashed forward on foot with them. The
two bodies of savages, all stripped to the breech-clout,
moccasins and war bonnet, came together in the trough
of the valley, the Sioux having descended to meet our
allies with right good will. All, except Sergeant Van
Moll, were mounted. Then began a most exciting en-
counter. The wild foemen, covering themselves with
their horses, while going at full speed, blazed away
rapidly. Our regulars did not fire, because it would have
been sure death to the friendly Indians, who were barely
distinguishable by a red badge which they carried.
Horses fell dead by the score — they were heaped there
When the fight closed — but, strange to relate, the casual-
ties among the warriors, including both sides, did not
certainly exceed five and twenty.
The whooping was persistent, but the Indian voice
is less hoarse than the Caucasian, and has a sort of wolfish
236 BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD.
bark to it, doubtless the result of heredity, because the
Indians, for untold ages, have been imitators of the
vocal characteristics of the prairie wolf. The absence of
very heavy losses in this combat goes far to prove the
wisdom of the Indian method of fighting.
Finally the Sioux on the right, hearing the yelping
and firing of the rival tribes, came up in great numbers,
and our Indians, carefully picking up their wounded, and
making their unwounded horses carry double, began to
draw off in good order. Sergeant Van Moll was left
alone on foot. A dozen Sioux dashed at him. Major
Randall and Lieutenant Bourke, who had probably not
noticed him in the general melee, but who, in the crisis,
recognized his stature and his danger, turned their horses
to rush to his rescue. They called on the Indians to follow
them. One small, misshapen Crow warrior, mounted on
a fleet pony, outstripped all others. He dashed boldly
in among the Sioux, against whom Van Moll was daunt-
lessly defending himself, seized the big Sergeant by the
shoulder, and motioned him to jump up behind. The
Sioux were too astonished to realize what had been done
until they saw the long-legged Sergeant, mounted behind
the little Crow, known as “ Humpy,” dash towards our
lines like the wind. Then they opened fire, but we
opened also, and compelled them to seek higher ground.
The whole line of our battalion cheered “ Humpy” and
Van Moll as they passed us on the home-stretch. There
were no insects on them, either.
In order to check the insolence of the Sioux, we
were compelled to drive them from the third ridge. Our
PATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD. 237
ground was more favorable for quick movements than
that occupied by Royall, who found much difficulty in
forcing the savages in his front — mostly the flower of
the brave Cheyenne tribe — to retire. One portion of
his line, under Captain Vroom, pushed out beyond its
supports, deceived by the rugged character of the ground,
and suffered quite severely. In fact, the Indians got
between it and the main body, and nothing but the cool-
ness of its commander and the skillful management of
Colonels Royall and Henry saved Troop L of the Third
Cavalry from annihilation on that day. Lieutenant Mor-
ton, one of Colonel Royall's aids, Captain Andrews and
Lieutenant Foster of Troop I, since dead, particularly
distinguished themselves in extricating Vroom from his
perilous position.
In repelling the audacious charge of the Cheyennes
upon his battalion, the undaunted Col. Henry, one of the
most accomplished officers in the army, was struck by a
bullet, which passed through both cheek bones, broke the
bridge of his nose and destroyed the optic nerve of one
eye. His orderly, in attempting to assist him, was also
wounded, but, temporarily blinded as he was, and throw-
ing blood from his mouth by the handful, Henry sat
his horse for several minutes in front of the enemy.
He finally fell to the ground, and, as that portion of
our line, discouraged by the fall of so brave a chief,
gave ground a little, the Sioux charged over his pros-
trate body, but were speedily repelled, and he was hap-
pily rescued by some soldiers of his command.
238 BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD.
Several hours later, when returning from the pur-
suit of the hostiles, I saw Col. Henry lying on a blanket,
his face covered with a bloody cloth, around which the
summer flies were buzzing fiercely, and a soldier keeping
the wounded man’s horse standing in such a position as
to throw the animal’s shadow upon - the gallant sufferer.
There was absolutely no other shadow in that neighbor-
hood. When I ventured to condole with the Colonel
he merely said, in a low but firm voice, “It is nothing.
For this are we soldiers 1 ° and forthwith he did me the .
honor of advising me to join the army. Col. Henry’s
sufferings, when our retrograde movement began, and, in
fact, until—after a jolting journey of several hundred
miles, by mule litter and wagon—he reached Fort Rus-
sell, were horrible, as were, indeed, those of all the
wounded. * *
As the day advanced, Gen. Crook became tired of
the indecisiveness of the action, and resolved to bring
matters to a crisis. He rode up to where the officers of
Mills' battalion were standing, or sitting, behind their
men, who were prone on the skirmish line, and said, in ef-
fect, “It is time to stop this skirmishing, Colonel. You
must take your battalions and go for their village way
down the canyon.” “All right, sir,” replied Mills, and .
the order to retire and remount was given.
Troops A, E and M of Mills' battalion, having re-
mounted, guided by the scout Grouard, plunged immedi-
ately into what is called, on what authority I know not,
the Dead Canyon of Rosebud valley. It is a dark, narrow
and winding defile, over a dozen miles in length, and
BATTLE OF THE IROSEBUD. 239
the main Indian village was supposed to be situated in
the north end of it. Lieut. Bourke, of Crook’s staff, ac-
companied the column. A body of Sioux, posted on a
bluff which commanded the west side of the canyon, was
brilliantly dislodged by a bold charge of Troop E, under
Capt. Sutorious and Lieut. Von Leuttewitz. After this our
march began in earnest.
The bluffs, on both sides of the ravine, were thickly
covered with rocks and fir trees, thus affording am-
ple protection to an enemy, and making it impossible
for our cavalry to act as flankers. Col. Mills ordered
the section of the battalion moving on the east side of
the canyon to cover their comrades on the west side, if
fired upon, and vice versa. This was good advice, and
good strategy in the position in which we were placed.
We began to think our force rather weak for so ven-
turesome an enterprise, but Lieut. Bourke informed the
Colonel that the five troops of the Third Cavalry, under
Maj. Noyes, were marching behind us. A slight rise in
the valley enabled us to see the dust stirred up by the
supporting column some distance in the rear.
The day had become absolutely perfect, and we all
felt elated, exhilerated as we were by our morning's ex-
perience. Nevertheless, some of the more thoughtful offi-
cers had their misgivings, because the canyon was cer-
tainly a most dangerous defile, where all the advantage
would be on the side of the savages. Gen. Custer, al-
though not marching in a position so dangerous, and with
a force nearly equal to ours, suffered annihilation at the
hands of the same enemy, about eighteen miles further
westward, only eight days afterward.
240 BATTLE OF THE ROSE RUD.
Noyes, marching his battalion rapidly, soon overtook
our rear guard, and the whole column increased its pace.
Fresh signs of Indians began to appear in all directions,
and we began to feel that the sighting of their village
must be only a question of a few miles further on. We
came to a halt in a kind of cross canyon, which had an
opening toward the west, and there tightened up our
horses' girths, and got ready for what we believed must
be a desperate fight. The keen-eared Grouard pointed
toward the occident, and said to Col. Mills, “I hear firing
in that direction, sir.” Just then there was a sound of
fierce galloping behind us, and a horseman, dressed in
buckskin, and wearing a long beard, originally black, but
turned temporarily gray by the dust, shot by the halted
command, and dashed up where Col. Mills and the other
officers were standing.
It was Maj. A. H. Nickerson, of the General’s staff.
He has been unfortunate since, but he showed himself a
hero on that day at least. He had ridden, with a single
orderly, through the canyon to overtake us, at the immi-
ment peril of his life.
“Mills,” he said, “Royall is hard pressed, and must
be relieved. Henry is badly wounded, and Vroom’s troop
is all cut up. The General orders that you and Noyes
defile by your left flank out of this canyon and fall on
the rear of the Indians who are pressing Royall.” This,
then, was the firing that Grouard had heard.
Crook’s order was instantly obeyed, and we were for-
tunate enough to find a comparatively easy way out of
the elongated trap into which duty had led us. We de-
BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD. 241
filed, as nearly as possible, by the heads of companies, in
parallel columns, so as to carry out the order with greater
celerity. We were soon clear of Dead Canyon, although
we had to lead our horses over and among the boulders
and fallen timber. The crest of the side of the ravine
proved to be a sort of plateau, and there we could hear
quite plainly the noise of the attack on Royall's front.
We got out from among the loose rocks and scraggy
trees that fringed the rim of the gulf, and found ourselves
in quite an open country. “Prepare to mount — mount!”
shouted the officers, and we were again in the saddle.
Then we urged our animals to their best pace, and
speedily came in view of the contending parties. The
Indians had their ponies, guarded mostly by mere boys,
in the rear of the low, rocky crest which they occupied.
The position held by Royall rose somewhat higher, and
both lines could be seen at a glance. There was very
heavy firing, and the Sioux were evidently preparing to
make an attack in force, as they were riding in by the
score, especially from the point abandoned by Mills' bat-
talion in its movement down the canyon, and which was
partially held thereafter by the friendly Indians, a few
infantry and a body of sturdy mule packers, commanded
by the brave Tom Moore, who fought on that day as if
he had been a private soldier. Suddenly the Sioux look-
outs observed our unexpected approach, and gave the
alarm to their friends. We dashed forward at a wild
gallop, cheering as we went, and I am sure we were all
anxious at that moment to avenge our comrades of
IIenry's battalion.
242 BATTLE OF THE ROSEBUD.
But the cunning savages did not wait for us. They
picked up their wounded, all but thirteen of their dead,
and broke away to the northwest on their fleet ponies,
leaving us only the thirteen “scalps,” one hundred and
fifty dead horses and ponies and a few old blankets and
war bonnets as trophies of the fray. Our losses, includ-
ing the friendly Indians, amounted to about fifty, most of
the casualties being in the Third Cavalry, which bore the
brunt of the fight on the Rosebud. Thus ended the en-
gagement which was the prelude to the great tragedy
that occurred eight days later in the neighboring valley
of the Little Big Horn.

|
GENERAL GEORGE A. CUSTER.
FURNISHED BY CUSTER POST, G. A. R., ST. Joseph, Mo.


CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE CUSTER MASSAC RE.
A short time after the battle of the Rosebud, Gen.
Crook got dispatches ordering him to await the arrival
of reinforcements (the Fifth Cavalry). In the meantime
the command moved up the Little Goose creek close to
the Big Horn range. Our Snake or Shoshone Indians
had left us, so that we were without any Indian allies
whatever. There was not much going on for awhile.
Gen. Crook spent most of his time in the mountains
hunting. While the General was up in the mountains
hunting, I was out riding around the country trying to
find some traces of hostile Indians; and one day, happen-
ing to be up on the mountains, I saw some Indian signals
down on the divide between the Rosebud and Little Big
Horn. These signals were to the effect that the Indians
and troops were fighting, and the Indians had the best
of it. This was between 9 and 10 o’clock in the
morning. Getting on my horse and going down into
camp, I told the officers that the Indians were having a
fight—I supposed with the troops—and had got way the
best of them. The officers had never heard of Indian
signals, and didn’t suppose such things were in existence.
244 TIIE CUSTER MASSACRE.
They laughed at the idea of Indians having smoke signals;
hardly crediting my statement. It made me a little bit
out of temper the way they talked about it, and I told
them that I would prove to them I was right.
I saddled up my horse and started for where the
signals had been given, reaching what at first seemed to
be the trail of troops on the divide between the Rosebud
and Little Big Horn just about dark on the night of
June 25th, and soon found that troops had been along
there. I started to follow up the trail, which led down
a creek. In following up the trail, it led me almost
to the mouth of the creek where it empties into the Little
Big Horn, then turning off to the right, traveling along
parallel to the creek and back into the bluffs. I found
out afterwards that Custer and Reno had separated there
where the trail left this creek, but not knowing this at
the time, I could only follow the plainest trail I could
find. I followed the trail out where the Custer command
had tried to cross the Little Big IIorn, out again, and
went still further down the creek, but away from it. It
was just 11 o'clock at night when I got to this place.
I must have passed close to where Reno's command was
entrenched, but did not know it. It was very dark and
I could not see things plainly. It was cloudy and trying
to rain; in fact, a few big drops of rain did fall.
The first intimation I had of getting onto the battle-
field was when my horse got scared at something lying
in the trail ahead of me, and I could not get him to pass
it. I was riding an animal that did not usually scare at
anything—a jet black beauty that Gen. Crook had given
THE CUSTE HE MASSACRE. 245
me. Getting off the horse and stooping down, so that I
could feel along with my hands, I came in contact with
some object. I did not know what it was, so I commenced
examining it, when I found that I had my hand on the
head of a man who had been scalped. Well, of course,
I cannot exactly tell the feelings I did have ; but I got
onto my horse pretty quickly after I found out what it
had frightened at. I was going on to a kind of divide
— on to the main divide. It seemed as though the
soldiers had tried to reach a main divide from there, and
I thought by taking down the ridge I would avoid any
more such horrible objects, such as I had found on the
lower ridge ; but instead of that I got right into the midst
of the dead, and was forced to follow the ridge all the
way down. It seemed to me for a long time — I could
not see them, but could tell by the way my horse acted
— that I was traveling amongst dead people all the way
down the ridge. I don’t think I was over ten minutes
riding down the ridge, but it seemed quite awhile before
I could get away.
Finally I did get up through them, and went down
and crossed the Little Big Horn to the other side onto
the high lands, then turned and followed up the river,
but keeping away in order to find the Indian trail, if
possible. It was along toward morning before I found
the trail leading up the Little Big Horn towards the
mountains. Following that up and keeping off the main
trail, I could hear the Indians traveling backwards and
forwards, but could not see them. I heard no firing of
guns. Reaching the outskirts of the Indian camp on
246 THE CUSTER MASSACRE.
Pass creek at the mouth of Twin creek on the Big Flat,
I arrived at their main camp close to daybreak. Riding
around from the lower end to the upper end, and keeping
away from the lodges, I found an old Indian driving up
his ponies, or herding them, rather.
I rode up to him for the purpose of finding out, if
I could, what had been the result of the battle I knew
had so recently occurred. I was dressed up as an In-
dian, and had a blanket over me, so the old fellow could
not tell who or what I was. As soon as I commenced
talking to him in the Sioux tongue, he asked me who I
was. I told him that I was Sitting Bull’s brother; that
I was looking for my horse ; that I had been out on a
scout and had not seen the fight, as I had just got back
that evening He suspicioned me of not being what I
said I was, and tried to find out who I was by getting
up close to me, and I saw I could not get any informa-
tion out of him. It was then daybreak, and on his ask-
ing me again who I was, I told him that they had al-
ways called me the “Grabber.” That was the nickname
the Indians had for me when I was among them.
Quick as he heard who I was, the old man gave
one yell and about two jumps, and was across on the
other side of the creek hallooing that the troops were on
them. Well, by this time the whole camp was in com-
motion. I had started back toward Tongue river on a
pretty good gallop. I got quite a distance—five or six
miles, I guess—before any of them came in sight, and
by that time it was broad daylight. I had such a start
of them that they could not catch me. They ran me
MAJOR-GENERAL A. H. TERRY.
BY PERMission of John F. FINERTY.

THE CUSTER MASSACRE. 247
clear back to Tongue river—a distance of forty miles.
Not being able to overtake me, they gave up the chase.
After they left me I was so tired out that when I got
over on Soldier creek I went into the brush, unsaddled
my horse and went to sleep. I must have slept there
all that night until the next morning between 10 and 11
o'clock.
When I woke up I could hear Indians talking.
Crawling out so that I could see what was going on, I
discovered that quite a large scouting party had camped
right in below me—not over five hundred yards from
where I was resting. For fear they might run across
me or see me I led my horse into the brush, threw him
down, tied his feet so that he could not get up and
went off to the best hiding place I could find and stayed
there until after dark. Then, everything being safe, I
untied my horse, saddled him up and started to get out
of there as quietly as I could. I reached the command
about 4 o’clock the next day. The command had re-
ceived rumors of the Custer massacre just before I got
back.
[The Custer massacre will always be a prolific
theme for speculative minds. The story today is an oft-
told tale, and writers will never tire of relating it. The
responsibility for the awful catastrophe will forever re-
main in doubt, and mayhap it is as well that it should.
Custer had every confidence in himself, and his men
shared that confidence. When the junction had been
formed at the mouth of the Rosebud on the 15th of
248 THE CUSTER MASSACRE.
June, 1876, between the different battalions of Gibbons'
command, Indian scouts were sent out to discover the
whereabouts of the hostiles, and secure, as near as possi-
ble, the numbers of the enemy. Upon the return of
these scouts, who located the Indian village in the
vicinity of the Little Big Horn, they reported the
strength of the hostiles to be between three and five
thousand fighting warriors. But the agents at the dif-
ferent agencies had previously given it as their opinion
that the hostile force did not amount to over one
thousand fighting men ; and, strange as it may appear,
both Gibbon and Terry seemed to have placed greater
reliance on the estimates of the agents than in the actual
observation of the friendly Indian Scouts. Custer, from
all accounts, shared the opinion of his superiors, and ex-
pressed himself as able to whip the allied forces of Sioux
and Cheyennes with his own regiment if he were only
permitted the apportunity.
Camp at the mouth of the Rosebud was broken on
the morning of June 22d, Custer, with his regiment (the
Seventh Cavalry) and pack train, moving up the Rose-
bud, and Terry and Gibbon with their forces, going up
the Yellowstone. At the council of war held before the
commands separated, what was determined upon as the
line of action is now shrouded in doubt, some holding
that Custer was not to attack the hostiles until the differ-
ent commands were close enough together to form a
junction, while others maintain that Custer himself said
he was authorized to attack the enemy whenever , and
wherever he found him.
MAJOR-GENERAL JOHN GIBBON.
BY PERMISSION OF JOHN F. FINERTY.

THE CUSTER MASSACRE. 249
But there is documentary evidence in existence
which goes far toward proving that Custer received
“definite” instructions, and that he permitted his enthu-
siasm to take advantage of the loophole left in them.
He was to have moved up the Rosebud in pursuit of the
Indians whose trail Reno had discovered some days pre-
vious. “It is of course impossible to give any definite
instructions,” reads this interesting memento, “in regard
to this movement, and, were it not impossible to do so,
the department commander places too much confidence
in your zeal, energy and ability to wish to impose upon
you precise orders which An'ght hamper your action when
nearly in contact with the enemy. He will, however,
indicate to you his own view of what your action should
be, and he desires that you should conform to them,
unless you shall see sufficient reason for departing from
them.”
Here's a case of “close the door, please, unless you
desire to leave it open.”
If Custer found that the Indian trail (discovered pre-
viously by Reno) turned toward the Little Big Horn, he
was to have kept to the left toward the headwaters
of the Tongue river, in order that no band or bands of
hostiles should be permitted to escape to the south or
southeast by passing around his left flank. He was to
feel his way cautiously from the Tongue liver westward
to the valley of the Little Big Horn, where he was to
carefully examine Tullock creek (a tributary of the Big
Horn) at its upper end, and report to Gen. Gibbon, whose
command would be located at the forks of the Little and
250 THE CUSTER MASSACRE,
Big Horn rivers. With Custer's command on the head-
waters of the Little Big Horn (east), Crook's in the Goose
creek valley (south), and Gibbon’s at the head of the Lit-
tle Big Horn valley (north), the Indians (if located in the
latter valley, and it was almost impossible to suppose they
were anywhere else, as the trail led in that direction and
the scouts had located their village on or in the vicinity
of the Little Big Horn), would find it impossible to escape
the cordon of troops unless they penetrated the moun-
tains and crossed the range to the west, a move which
was highly improbable because next to impossible.
But Custer did not allow instructious to “hamper his
actions” when he found himself upon the hot trail of the
Indians on the Rosebud. The headwaters of the Tongue
were permitted to take care of themselves. Custer saw
sufficient reason for departing from his orders, and pressed
on in pursuit of the savages. By the time the valley of
the Little Big Horn was reached, he had other plans than
the one mapped out by the commanding General to examine
the upper part of Tullock creek. His scouts had reported
the Indian village, but a short distance ahead, but whether
they also reported on the strength of the hostiles will
never be known.
It is enough to know, however, that the hostiles’ trail
was discovered when the Custer command reached a point
twenty miles up the Rosebud, after leaving the Gibbon
command. It lead up that stream for many miles, and
finally turned off to a tributary of the Little Big Horn.
When Custer reached a point eighteen miles from the Indian
village, he called Reno, Benteen, McDougal and his other
P THE CUSTER MASSACRE." 251
officers together and divided his command into three bat-
talions, taking troops C, E, F, I and L himself. Troops
A, M and G were assigned to Reno, while Benteen was
given charge of troops H, D and K. B troop, under
Captain McDougal, was made an escort to the pack train.
From the scouts the exact location of the Indian village
had been obtained. Some authorities claim that Benteen
was to cross the Little Big Horn and attack the village
at its upper end ; Reno was to keep on the east side of
the stream until he came to about the center of the vil-
lage and then begin the attack, and Custer was to follow
down stream to the extreme lower end of the camp and
attack it there, so that the three forces would begin the
fight at different points almost simultaneously. When the
three battalions had reached a point five miles from the
village, Benteen crossed the river and followed down
under the shadows of the mountain, while the Custer and
Reno commands marched side by side yet a little further.
Then Custer bore off to the east, into the hills, while
Reno passed down to the river and soon after engaged
the Indians. He met a force that he could not drive—
a host that he had not looked for. Demoralization took
possession of his battalion, and in the retreat which
ensued his men were mowed down like grass.
Benteen, in a statement made to Mr. Finerty, says
there was to have been no connection between Reno,
McDougal and himself in Custer's order. He was sent
off to the left several miles from where Custer was
killed to “actually hunt up more Indians.” When he
set off on his mission, he left the remainder of the regi-
2
5
2
THE CUSTER MASSACRE. g
ment at a halt and dismounted. He soon saw, he says,
after carrying out Custer's order, and two other orders
which were sent to him by the General, that “the In-
dians had too much horse sense to travel over the kind
of country I had been sent to explore, unless forced to,”
and concluding that his battalion would have plenty of
work aliead with the others, obliqued to the right to
strike the trail of the main column, and got into it just
ahead of McDougal and his pack train. After watering
the horses of his battalion at a morass near the side of
the road, he went briskly on, “having a presentiment
that I’d find hot work very soon.” On the way he met
two orderlies with messages—one for the commanding
officer of the pack train and one for himself, written
and signed by the regimental adjutant, Lieut. Cook.
They read: “Come on. Be quick,” and “Bring packs.”
Benteen did not return for the pack train, but pushed
on at a trot, and (to use his own words) “Got there in
time to save Reno's outfit.” McDougal came up later,
and a junction was then formed. From that time on
until the morning of the 27th they were kept busy re-
pelling the attacks of the hostiles.
From this statement of Benteen's it does not seem
that he had received any orders from Custer to attack
any portion of the Indian village, and this view is further
borne out by the statement of Benteen that he car-
ried out the orders that Custer had given him. But
both he and Reno must have known that Custer was
battling with the hostiles at some point not far distant;
and yet no effort was made to reach the Custer com-
mand the day of the 25th of June.
THE (JUSTER MASSACRE. 253
There is little if any doubt but what Reno’s com-
mand would have been annihilated had it not been for
the timely arrival of Gibbon. The Indians claimed that
they had Reno just where they wanted him, but were not
given time enough to move their camp far enough from
the scene of battle before making their final cleanup of
the soldiers. Notwithstanding this claim of the Indians,
and admitting that Reno would have taken desperate
chances in attempting to go to the assistance of Custer,
the people of the United States will always think he
should have taken the chances, and believe and know
Custer would not have hesitated a second in making such
a move had matters been reversed. Custer would have
fought his way to Reno, under such circumstances, or died
on the bluffs in making the attempt.
Grouard, whose acquaintance with the Indians was
more extended than that of any man who has ventured
to speak on this subject, and who was on the battlefield
at 11 o'clock on the night succeeding the day of the
butchery, says the Indians told him Custer made an
attempt to cross the Little Big Horn where the trail of
the command was afterward discovered leading down to
the edge of the river. But the Indians met him in great
numbers at this point, and he found it impossible to
cross. The water was high, and the bed of the river at
all times is full of quicksand at this point, and the In-
dians told Grouard that one of the soldiers' pack mules,
loaded with ammunition, was swallowed up in the sand
When the attempt to ford the river was made.
254 THE CUSTER MAS SACRE.
Custer then seemed determined, after his first re-
pulse, to cross the river at a point lower down. To do
this he was forced to back out into the bluffs, and the
Indians, divining his intention, crossed the river below
his command in thousands, attacking it on all sides at
once. Custer must have recognized the almost hopeless-
ness of his position from the moment he found himself
unable to cross the Little Big Horn where he first made
the attempt; but that he did not lose his head is proved
by the fact that he attempted to lead his command on
to the bluffs overlooking the valley. As soon, however,
as he left the river, the Indians got in between it and
his command, so that, with the hostiles occupying the
draws on the south, the high bluffs on the east and the
river bottom on the west, the soldiers were forced to OC-
cupy a midway position between the higher points and
the valley, and were driven along the slope east and
north until the last one had been killed.
“The Indians congregated so rapidly and were in
such positions,” said one of Grouard’s Indian informants,
“that there was no earthly chance for the command to
extricate itself. The troopers fought bravely and to the
last, but the battle was over in less than one hour from
the time Custer made his first attempt to cross the Lit-
tle Big Horn.”
One peculiar thing about the entire matter is
found in the uncertainty expressed by all the officers con-
cerning the time of day when the attack on the Sioux
village (made by Reno's battalion) occurred. If, as the
official reports claim, Custer was in the valley of the
MAND.
, THE ONLY SURVIVOR OF CUSTER'S COM
CURLEY
SN /2
& cº;

THE CUSTER MASSACRE. 255
Little Big Horn at eight o'clock in the morning of June
25th, it would seem highly probable that the attack oc-
curred long before noon of that date. Some of Reno's
soldiers claim that the two battalions (Custer's and
Reno's) were still marching side by side when the indi-
cations of the Sioux village were so plain as to be un-
mistakable, and that the Colonel of the Seventh, elated
at the prospect of an immediate engagement, cried, “Hur-
rah! Custer’s luck!” Immediately after this the com-
mands separated, Reno “charging down the valley a con-
siderable distance, finally halting in the timber, where he
was attacked by superior numbers.”
Grouard says he first noticed the signals made by
the Indians on June 25 between nine and ten o'clock in
the morning. These signals indicated a big battle with
the soldiers, the Indians having “way the best of it,” as
the Scout expresses it. Grouard immediately repaired to
Crook’s camp on the Little Goose creek, and imparted
his information to the officers he found there (Gen.
Crook being up in the mountains on a hunt). Not hav-
ing had any experience with Indian signals, the officers
in camp ridiculed the idea advanced by Grouard that
the troops and savages were engaged. The scout there-
upon informed them he would prove he was right, and
immediately jumped on one of the best horses in the
command and started for the locality whence the signals
had been given. The distance from Goose creek to the
Custer battlefield is about seventy miles, and as it was close
to noon when Grouard started, and the latter part of the
trip was made after dark, he necessarily had to ride at
256 THE CUSTER MASSACRE.
the rate of seven miles an hour to reach the Custer bat-
tlefield by eleven o’clock. º
Horned Horse, who related the story of the battle
many times after he arrived at the agency, maintained
that “by noon all of one party were killed, and the oth-
ers (Reno's) driven back into a bad place. The reason
we did not kill all of this party was because while we
were fighting his (Reno's) party, we heard that more sol-
diers were coming up the river,” whereupon the hostiles
drew off. “The troops first charged from up the river,”
he said. Then all the young bucks charged the troops.
“Then there was another party of troops on the other
side of the river. One half of the Indians pursued the
first body of troops; the other half went after the other
body.” Which shows that Custer's attack was made al-
most simultaneously with that of Reno.
Custer did not proceed northward over three miles
from the spot where Reno's fortifications were thrown up
after his retreat across the river, so that he could not
have been over two miles from Reno when the latter was
holding the Sioux at bay in the timber. Knowing that
Custer had intended to strike the village at its lower end
as soon as he could make the distance from the point
where he and Reno separated, and the latter having in-
vested the woods on the southeast side of, the camp,
people can not but wonder why he failed to hold this
point of vantage until he could satisfy himself that Cus-
ter made his proposed attack below. Instead of doing
this, however, Reno withdrew from the woods, retreated
across the Little Big Horn, and took up a position infi-
THE CUSTER MASSACRE. 257
nitely less desirable than the one he had first held on the
west of the stream, where he was protected by a heavy
growth of timber. This retreat is said to have been so
precipitous that many of the fleeing soldiers were actually
dragged from their horses by the pursuing savages and
hacked to death at leisure.
There must have been a respite given the Reno com-
mand to gain its second position, for it was then that
Benteen came upon the scene from the west, and he was
followed somewhat later by McDougal's troop and the
pack train. There is no account of the packs having
been attacked while on their way southeast over the main
trail to reach Reno's position, so it necessarily follows
that the Indians at that particular time had withdrawn
from Reno to repel the charge of the Custer battalion
three miles down the stream. “Indecision ” on the part
of Reno may have led to the force under himself and
Benteen being kept at a standstill while Custer's command
was undergoing destruction ; but military men used a very
mild term when they called it such.
On the afternoon of the massacre the soldiers of
Reno's command distinctly heard a “charge” sounded on
a bugle, and they arose with a cheer to welcome Custer,
only to be met with a yell of derision from the savages.
This circumstance could not have escaped the notice or
knowledge of Reno, and yet he claims he had no sus-
picion that annihilation had overtaken Custer’s command.
A little later on in the day the white hats and blue
coats of soldiers were noticed in the possession of the
Indians who swarmed about Reno's entrenched position,
258 THE CUSTER MASSACRE.
but this circumstance does not appear to have made any
deep impression on Maj. Reno. His “indecision” may
have saved his command, but it will never write the
name of “hero” on his monument.
Grouard, as stated in his narrative, reached the Cus-
ter battlefield about 11 o'clock on the night of June 25th.
He had struck the trail of the Custer commande where
the commands separated, and followed it down to the
bluffs on , which the bodies of the killed were strewn.
On his way to this spot he must, as he says, have passed
close to the entrenched position held by Reno, but he
did not know it. When he crossed the Little Big Horn
he heard (but did not see) the Indians passing backward
and forward over the travoi trails, but the camp at that
time had been moved to a point fully twenty miles
southwest of the battlefield. The scout heard no shoot-
ing while in the vicinity of the Little Big Horn, and
saw nothing which led him to suppose that Reno’s
command was besieged. He was in the Indian camp at
Sun-up on the morning of the 26th of June, and left that
place with hundreds of the savages in hot pursuit, reach-
ing the Crook command on Goose creek two days after-
wards. &
In their haste to get their families out of the way
of danger, the Indians undoubtedly left many tepis and
much rubbish, and which was, later on, destroyed by
the savages themselves, as they had no means to convey
it from the spot, the travois having been taken to a
point twenty miles to the southwest. The only view
Reno's command obtained of the Indian camp was at the
THE LITTLE BIG
HORN, BELOW CROW AGENCY.

THE CUSTER MASSACRE. 259
time that command was first thrown against the savages.
Its subsequent retreat across the river cut off the view
of the camp entirely, and Reno could not know when
the hostile village was moved. Grouard states positively
that it was moved on the night of the 25th, and as he
visited it on the morning of the 26th when it was loca-
ted twenty miles southwest of the battlefield, it could not
have occupied its former site on the banks of the Little
Big Horn on the morning of the 27th of June.
The Indians, whose numbers were constantly aug-
menting, were getting as rapidly as possible into a sec-
tion of country where game was plentiful. They there-
fore had their families with them. They had runners
out all over the country, north, east and south ; knew
that Crook’s command was in the valley of the Goose
creeks; that Gibbon and Terry were marching up the
Yellowstone from the mouth of the Rosebud and that
Custer’s force was moving rapidly up the latter stream
toward the Little Big Horn where their village was loca-
ted. But they had no idea, as they afterwards said, that
Custer would be rash enough to attack them when he
discovered their force. They were greatly surprised that
he did so.
Grouard had seen their village on two occasions —
once before and once after the massacre ; and he states
that on the morning after the battle of the Little Big
Horn there were no less than nine thousand fighting men
in the hostile camp. He says there were fully six hun-
dred wickiups in the village. These wickiups were used
by the young bucks who had escaped from the different
260 THE CUSTER MASSACRE,
agencies; and the scout thinks there must have been over
or quite five thousand of these young warriors, while the
force of the village proper was not less than four thousand
fighting men. Grouard further says that each wickiup
would accommodate from six to ten persons, and all of
them were crowded to their fullest capacity.
The Indians told Grouard that when Custer's attempt
to cross the Little Big Horn had been frustrated, the
command headed directly east for the high bluffs, behind
which hundreds of Indians were secreted. These rose up
to meet Custer as his men advanced. Not knowing that
the savages were there, Custer was taken completely by
surprise, and attempted, by a charge, to force his way
through the enemy to the northeast. But he met with
such a withering fire that he was compelled to seek
lower ground, and in doing so he met the enemy’s force
that, by this time, had crossed the river and filled all the
draws to the north, and was compelled to feel his way
west and south, which accounts for the finding of the
bodies of his command lying in almost a perfect circle.
When the charge up the bluff was made, the Indians
stated (and they related the story many times to the
scout), that an officer on a magnificent animal, unable to
check the speed of his charger, rode directly through the
enemy’s line, escaping the hundreds of bullets that were
fired at him. Some of the young braves gave chase, but
as they were afoot when the charge was made and lost
some little time in getting their ponies, the officer was
soon far in advance of his pursuers. They followed him
for several miles, however, and watched him as he crossed
THE CUSTER MASSACRE, 261
Poplar creek (due east from the Custer battlefield).
Beyond this creek is an immense flat, and while the In-
dians sat upon their ponies, having given up the chase,
and watched the fleeing horseman as he reached the
plain, they beheld a puff of smoke, and saw the officer
fall from the saddle. They then rode over to where he
fell, secured his horse and trappings, and left the body
lying where it fell. The officer, for some unknown
cause, had ended his life at the point of his own gun.
Grouard’s explanation is that the officer, being con-
vinced that the command would perish to a man, did not
wish to survive his comrades in arms, so put an end to
his life when escape was within his grasp; or, that being
unable to rejoin the command, and fearing that his escape
would be construed into desertion and forever remain a
blot upon his honor, he ended his existence within sight
of the spot where the five troops of the heroic Seventh
met their Waterloo.
This story of the Indians is borne out by a fact :
The body of one officer (Second Lieutenant H. M. Harring-
ton of Troop C) was never recovered. It was supposed
that he fell in the first charge, and was swallowed up by
the treacherous quicksands in the bed of the Little Big
Horn ; but it is just as possible that he escaped death by
the river and found it on the plain east of Poplar creek,
though it must be admitted that nothing but the fact that
his body was not found on the field of battle lends any
evidence to his identification as the officer referred to by
the savages.
262 THE CUSTER MASSACRE,
The Indians were sure that the officer was trying to
check the speed of his horse when he passed through
their line; but the animal was crazed with fright and could
neither be stopped nor overtaken. It went like the wind,
and proved itself afterwards to be one of the fleetest-
footed horses possessed by the savages.
As soon as possible after the battle begun, the camp,
with the women and children, was moved, the mutilation
of the Custer dead having been done by the bucks,
Horned Horse, who viewed the scene from a distance,
stating that the warriors only desisted in their horrible
work from sheer exhaustion. $
A great deal has been said and written about the
manner in which Custer received his death wound, and
to Rain-in-the-Face, whose picture will be found in these
pages, has been attributed the killing of this gallant and
daring spirit. It is already known that Custer's body
was the only one escaping mutilation; also that the
wound which caused death was in the head and made
by a bullet. No other wound or mark was found upon
the body, and it apparently lay where it had fallen. The
reading world need not be shocked by the knowledge
that no man has honor in Custer’s death. “Nothing can
be retentive to the strength of spirit.” Rain-in-the-Face
did not kill Gen. Custer. But Custer, brave to the last,
surrounded by the dead bodies of his relatives and
troopers, and realizing the horrors that awaited him as a
captive — tortures a thousand times worse than death —
turned his weapon against himself and escaped the terri-
ble fate for which the Indians attempted to spare him.
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE, REPUTED SLAYER OF CUSTER.
SN2.
Cº -
…)

THE CUSTER MASSACRE. 263
Custer was well known to and by the savage horde
which encompassed him. There was a chance for his
capture, and the only way the General had to defeat it
was in anticipating his own end. The gallant Fetterman
and Brown died by each other's hands at the Phil Kear-
ney massacre in 1866, and a hundred other cases might
be cited of a like nature. The friends and admirers of
Custer have nothing to regret in the knowledge that the
brave soldier opened the gateway to eternity with his
own right hand. -
Among the Sioux there exists a superstition concern-
ing those who suicide. They will not touch the body of
a man or woman who meets death at his or her own
election. Custer’s body was not disturbed. Had it not
been for the fact that all the bodies of the Custer com-
mand lay in the scorching sun four days before they
were recovered, the tell-tale powder marks on Custer’s
temple would have put at rest the question of Custer's
taking off without recourse to the evidence of savages.
Curley, a Crow scout, who accompanied the Custer
command, and is the only survivor of the battle of the
Little Big Horn, claims to have saved himself by hiding
in a gulch while the fight was going on, and afterwards
escaping by drawing his blanket about him and passing
through the ranks of the hostiles, being taken for one of
their own number in the excitement which prevailed.
Curley’s account of the battle is meagre, as his time was
pretty well occupied in looking to his own safety. His
statement that the fight commenced at 2:30 or 3 o'clock
in the afternoon (his calculation of time being based
264 THE CUSTER MASSACRE,
upon the position of the sun) and continued until nearly
sunset, is entirely overcome by the statements of parties
in the Reno command that clothing and guidons belong-
ing to the Custer battalion were seen and recognized in
possession of the Indians who besieged Reno's position
early in the afternoon of the 25th of June.
Scores of the Indians who were engaged in the
attack upon Custer have told Grouard that the fight with
the ill-fated command did not last over an hour, at the
end of which time every man in it had been killed.
“Officers in Reno's battalion,” says Finerty, “who, late
in the afternoon, from high points surveyed the country
in anxious expectation of Custer’s appearance, and who
commanded a view of the field where he had fought, say
that no fighting was going on at that time — between /
five and six o'clock. It is evident, therefore, that the last
of Custer's command was destroyed at an hour earlier in
the day than Curley relates.” Some of Curley’s statements
are borne out by facts related by the Indians, while some
are not ; therefore his story gives rise to many perplex-
ing doubts.
The battle between Reno and the Indians may be
said to have been almost continuous from the time of
the attack on the morning of June 25th until the fore-
noon of the 27th, when, upon the approach of Gibbon’s
column, the hostiles drew off. As positive proof that
the engagement between Custer and the Indians lasted
but a very short time may be mentioned the startling
fact that but seven of the hostiles were killed during the
three days’ fighting on the Little Big Horn, and but few
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THE CUSTER MONUMENT.




THE GUSTER MASSACRE.
2
•
5
were wounded. This statement is made by Grouard
after a full knowledge of all the facts, and demonstrates,
without further argument, that Custer's battalion was
literally swept from the face of the earth by the storm
of bullets which savage hatred hurled against it.
On the side of the soldiers, some two hundred and
seventy officers, privates, scouts and civilians were killed
outright, and many received wounds from which they
never entirely recovered. The dead belonging to the
Reno command were collected and buried by Gibbon's
battalion on the 27th of June, and on the following day
the same office was, performed by the same command
for the Custer battalion. The bodies of the soldiers
were, in most cases, horribly mutilated, accounts of
which have been published many times. General Custer’s
remains were not disturbed by the Indians. They were
eventually transferred to the military cemetery at West
Point, where they rest.
On a knoll overlooking the valley of the Little Big
Horn—not far from the spot where Custer fell—a monu-
ment has been erected to the memory of the heroes who
perished in that unequal battle which has no counterpart
in the history of our country. The sides of this mute
remembrancer are tablets upon which are engraved the
names of those who perished with Custer. Relic hunters
have defaced this monument to a great extent, but its
erection at best is but an incident in the wave of regret
and sorrow that passed over the nation’s heart when the
fate of Custer and his gallant followers was learned—a
slight token of the love the American nation cherishes
for her heroic dead.—AUTHOR.]
CHAPTER XXXIX.
smºsºmºsºms
A MIRACULO US ESCAPE.
Some days after my return from the Custer battle-
field, I started out in company with Big Bat to find which
way the Indians were moving. I found the Sioux village
up the other side (north) of Tongue river. I returned to
camp and made report of these facts. Gen. Crook ex-
pected some more Crows to join the command, and thought
it was best for me to go on the north side of the Sioux
village, intercept the Crows and return with them. When
I spoke to Bat about going he asked me to take an es-
cort along. I told him it would be better for us to go
by ourselves than to take troops with us; that we would be
perfectly safe. He thought not, and everybody else
thought we had better take an escort ; and finding the
General thought it would be best to take soldiers along
with me so that the Crows would recognize them and
come in with us, I finally consented to take them ; but it
was against my judgment. The worst thing I could have
done was to take those soldiers along.
There were twenty-five picked men and one officer
(Lieut. F. W. Sibley) from the Second cavalry detailed
to go with us. The names of the soldiers were Oscar
LIEUTENANT F. W. SIBLEY.
EY PERMISSION OF JOHN F. FINERTY.

A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE. 267
Cornwall (sergeant), Henry Collins, W. J. Crolley, W. R.
Cooper (sergeant), Wm. Dougherty, James Dorr, Charles
W. Day (sergeant), Charles L. Edwards, Wm. P. Egan,
Hugh J. Green, Patrick Hasson, G. P. Harrington (ser-
geant), S. W. Hone, Wm. H. Hills, Martin Hahon, Daniel
Munger, Henry Oakey, Jacob Rhend, George Rhode,
George Robinson, Valentine Rufus, George A. Stone,
Thomas C. Warren (corporal), Joseph Ward, George Watts.
One packer volunteered to accompany the party. The
packer was called Trailer Jack. A reporter of the Chi-
cago Times, Mr. John F. Finerty, also volunteered to go.
He had been wanting to go with us on every scout that
I had been upon. He had asked me to go several times,
but it had never been so that I could take him before.
He accompanied us on this scout.
Everything being in readiness we left camp a little
before 8 o’clock in the evening on July 5, 1876, making
our way along the foot of the mountains toward Tongue
river. It was 8 o’clock when we reached Big Goose. We
left there about 4 o’clock in the morning. It was day-
light on reaching Beaver creek, where I discovered an
Indian looking over the hills at us. Not seeing any-
thing but this solitary sentinel, I got onto my horse and
rode up to where this Indian was in hiding; but he got
down Beaver creek into the brush before I could get to
his hiding place. It was through this Indian that all
the trouble came that we had afterwards. He went back
to the hostile village and reported that we were about to
make an attack. He must have rode back that night.
It was just 8 o’clock in the evening of the 6th when
268 A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE. *
we crossed Beaver creek ; 1 o’clock when we reached
Tongue river ; but I was getting close to the Sioux vil-
lage. After crossing the river we rode about three miles,
got off our horses, picketed them out, left one man to
wake us up at daylight and went to sleep. I gave the
sentinel orders to wake me up as soon as day commenced
to break. It seemed to me that I had no more than
closed my eyes when he woke me tip. Getting on my
horse and telling him to wake the others up and tell
them to follow me closely, I rode up half a mile to a
little butte. Getting off my horse I went up on the
butte. It had got light enough so I could see. With
my glass I discovered that the whole country was cov-
ered with Indians on horseback moving toward Tongue
river. I called to Bat that the Indians were all over
the country and moving toward Tongue river. ITe got
off his horse and came up to where I was. He was no
more scared than I was, but the first words he said
Welle .
“My God, we are gone !”
As quick as it became light enough, I could see they
were a war party moving along with the expectation of
fighting something from the way they acted. I told Bat
to go down and get the party ready ; to tell the men
what was in store for them; that as soon as the Indians
struck our tracks it was all day with us; but that I
would watch them until then. So I watched their move-
ments until they came onto our track. One of the In-
dians, who was in the lead, as soon as he saw our track,
commenced circling his horse and waving his blanket,
A MIRACULO US ESCAPE, 269
and it was just about ten minutes before every Indian in
the country knew they had struck our trail. Then they
commenced moving onto this one place and to follow
our trail up. Watching them until they got close to us,
I gave Bat the signal to start for the mountains. My
only hope was to get into the mountains and so far
ahead of the Indians that they could not catch us, and I
thought that we would have a better chance of getting
away from them in the hills than we would down on the
flat, where it was almost impossible to fight them. My
idea was to keep out of the way. I thought it was our
only chance. If we could possibly keep away from them
we might save ourselves.
By the time that we reached the trail that leads up
onto the mountains from Dayton, the Indians were within
half a mile of us, watching us while we were climbing
the mountains, but not attempting to follow us up the
trail we were on, but, instead, going to the upper trail
on the head of Twin creek to try and cut us off. A
large number of them stopped at Tongue River, at the
mouth of the canyon, in case we might attempt to come
down off the mountains and escape that way. They had
us shut in from all sides, and our only chance was to go
further back into the mountains. I thought it possible
We might escape them by traveling very fast. As soon
as we reached the top of the mountain I gave orders to
Lieut. Sibley to follow up the trail on a fast trot, but on
no account to stop anywhere until he overtook me. I
Went on to where the two trails met — Twin creek trail
and the trail that we were on. Riding very fast and
270 A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE.
reaching this point, I kept on the watch for the Indians
to make their appearance. I was watching the Twin
creek trail to see whether the Indians would go there,
After being there quite a while, I thought chough time
had elapsed for the troops to reach me ; and by their
not coming up, I began to think that probably the In-
dians had got across some way and headed them off.
The Indians making their appearance on the other trail,
I got on my horse and rode back to meet Sibley’s
party. I met them just pulling out of the north fork of
Tongue river, where they had stopped to make coffee.
I asked them why they had stopped — what excuse
they had. They said the men were hungry and wanted
something to eat. I told them I did not imagine they
would want anything to eat after this ; that the Indians
had got in ahead of us and cut us off from ever get-
ting away from them—had cut us off from the only
chance we had of making our escape. There was no use
of making any trouble about it. I simply told them to
keep close together and ride as fast as they could, and
to keep up with me. I was well aware that the Indians
were in ahead of us, and not seeing our trail they would
be very apt to meet us between where we were and the
forks of the trail. I warned every man to be ready, as
the Indians would most probably charge on us unexpect-
edly. Instead of following the trail I kept as much to
the right of it as I could.
But as short a time as the red devils had to work
on, they had laid a trap to ambush us. The main trail
ran between two high, tree-studded buttes, and if we had
· ·
caem ， vv. ， cºst -， ， ， ， №.– r er i es on sa c - detave， o lº ：
SCENE NEAR THE SIBLEY BATTLEFIELD, BIG HORN RANGE.

A MIRACULO US ESCAPE. 271
passed through there they would have been most likely
to have killed every one of us before we could have
fired a shot; but my going to the right had saved us
from getting ambushed. As we passed these buttes about
one half of the advance Indian party got a chance to
fire on us. There were from one hundred and fifty to
two hundred of them that fired on us, and how they
missed us — why some of us were not killed—is more
than I can tell ; but I suppose they were excited and so
sure of getting us they were more careless about their
aim than is their custom. There was only one horse
shot at the buttes, and that was the animal rode by the
Chicago Times correspondent, (Mr. Finerty), and that was
the only mishap. The first gun fired by the Indians
stampeded all the soldiers’ horses. The first thing I saw
was Mr. Finerty lying flat on his back. Supposing him
to be shot, I asked him where he was hit. He said he
was not shot, but his horse had thrown him. I told him
to get into the edge of the timber right below us; that
I would get the men together, go down into the timber
and make a stand there, it being about four hundred
yards from there to the top of the hill where the Indians
had fired on us.
Collecting the men as well as I could, and pushing
them on to where we were going to make our stand,
keeping Mr. Finerty in ahead of me, I got him down
into this timber, the rest of the party reaching there soon
after. Dismounting and tying the horses all in a bunch
so that they could be seen by the Indians from the top
of the hill, I gave the men orders not to fire a shot. I
272 A JIIRAO UTILO US ESCAPE.
placed them in position from fifty to one hundred yards
away from the horses. After instructing them not to
waste their ammunition ; that we could expect no relief;
that we had to fight it out ourselves as long as our am-
munition lasted, I told them to make every shot they fired
kill, if possible. The Indians had recognized me when
they fired the first volley, and had spoken to me in the
Sioux language, telling me there was no chance for me
to get away ; that I could not “go up into the air nor
down into the ground,” and that they would get me be-
fore sun-down.
After seeing the men placed and giving them the
caution about the ammunition, I crept back to the edge
of the timber so that I could see all the movements the
Indians would make. I was asked by some of the soldiers
if there was any possible chance of getting out of
there, and I told them there was no more chance of
our getting away alive than there was of our jumping
into the moon ; that the only thing we could do was to
fight as long as our ammunition would last, and to save
the last load for ourselves; not to be taken alive if it could
be helped ; that I didn’t expect to get out of there, but
I was certain I was going to save my last shot for my-
self; that I knew the Indians were going to try to cap-
ture me if there was any possible show, for they had
told me SO.
Well, on some of the men this had a very queer
effect. Three or four of them commenced to cry about
it. Some of them didn’t mind it at all. Finerty was
the most jovial one of them all. Lieutenant Sibley took
A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE. 273
the situation very coolly and deliberately. As near as I
could judge the Indians were increasing every minute.
It looked to me as if they were thicker than the pine
trees that sheltered us, and they had us almost com-
pletely surrounded. We could look through the timber
and see them, and it did look as though there was no
chance of getting away from there. It was about 10:30
o'clock in the morning, July 7th, 1876, that we took
our stand in the timber, and from the time we got in
there until 3 o'clock in the afternoon we had not fired a
shot. The Indians were trying in every way to draw
our fire. The trees were not big enough to protect our
bodies, they all being small spruce and pines, and Our
poor horses were getting the full benefit of the Indian
bullets. They were firing into them all the time. They
could see them from the top of the hill, and at 3 o'clock
there were only eight horses standing there alive ; the
rest had been shot and killed.
By that time the Indians got more daring and kept
riding a little closer. There were two of them especially
that were trying to outdo the others. One was White
Antelope, a Cheyenne chief and warrior. I could see
right away that these two Indians were the most daring,
and my aim was to get one of them, if not both of them.
After a good deal of waiting I got a chance to shoot
them both at once. One was coming right towards me at
a slow lope. I could almost see the color of his eyes, he
was so close to me. The other was following in behind,
very close to him. They were about five yards from each
other, but it so happened that they both came in line,
274 A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE.
and it was such a pretty shot that I could not help
taking it. After a good, careful aim, I pulled the trig-
ger; but instead of the nearest one falling, the one be-
hind him fell off his horse. The foremost one fell on his
horse’s neck; but before he could fall to the ground two
Indians ran up and held him on his horse until they got
him over the hill out of sight. I found out afterwards
that I had killed them both at one shot.
This double shot raised such confusion amongst the
Indians, and they were so excited about it that a chance
of our getting away presented itself. This chance lasted
probably fifteen minutes I told the Lieutenant to take the
ammunition, his and the soldiers, and instruct the men to
crawl on their hands and knees down to a kind of wash-
out close by where we were, as the Indians were so con-
fused and stampeded over White Antelope's death that
they would not notice our movements, and if we could
once get through the line we would be all right. The
Lieutenant objected a little to going off and leaving the
horses; but I told him there would be a lot of horses after
we were dead ; that it was our only chance, and we had
better take it ; that there were none of our party wounded,
but if one were wounded there would be no chance of
our escape. So, getting his men together and going
down on their hands and knees, the Lieutenant and party
crawled out. I stood there close by the horses and
watched them till they got clear through the Indians on
the outside of the circle.
Then I took the rope from my own saddle and
wound it about my body and followed the troops. It
A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE. 275
didn't take me long to overtake them. They were run-
ning through the timber when I did overtake them, and
some of them had pretty heavy falls, but they didn’t mind
it in the least. Much of the timber was blown down,
and we had to step from log to log. Some of the men
would slip and get awful falls, but none of them made
complaint. It was just about a mile from where we had
made our stand down to the main fork of Tongue river.
The men never waited when they got to the river, to find
a crossing, but just plunged into it. They never stopped
until they got into the timber on the other side of the
river. They had plunged into the water, and it was very
deep there, and they were dripping wet. We could hear
the Indians firing into the trees where we had been.
They kept up a continual firing there until after dark. I
learned afterward that they did not know we were gone
until the next day about 10 o’clock. Our holding fire
there all day long, and waiting until they got close to us
and then firing at them and killing two of their leaders,
scared them, and they did not dare to make a rush into
the thicket for fear a lot more of them would be killed.
They just kept firing in there in hopes of killing us all
without any danger to themselves.
After I had caught up with the soldiers, I put Bat in
the lead and cautioned them not to step on the ground,
but from rock to rock, and keep away from the timber
and avoid touching the limbs if possible. We traveled
on until dark in that way. Along about dark it com-
menced blowing and raining, and I think one of the
worst electrical storms I ever saw in the western
276 A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE.
country overtook us that night. Timber was falling all
about us, so that it was dangerous to travel; but we
moved along pretty well until midnight, when the storm
became so bad that we could not travel any further.
Getting under a big rock, we stopped beneath its friendly
shelter until the wind and rain ceased.
Our only chance of getting entirely away from the
Indians was to keep on such ground that they could not
follow us on horseback. Keeping well up in the moun-
tains we traveled all the rest of the night, stopping only
for a few minutes’ rest at a time until we reached Wolf
creek. After crossing Wolf creek one of the men be-
came unmanageable—went stark mad. The excitement
had turned his head. He imagined everything he saw
was an Indian, so that I had to keep him right along
by my side all the while. From time to time he would
commence to yell, and I would have to stop his mouth
until he became quiet. After we crossed Wolf creek I
had to crawl up the canyon in places and throw my
rope down to the rest of the party and pull them up
with it.
We came down off the mountains at the head of
Soldier creek. As we reached the foot of the mountains we
came onto a very large party of Indians that looked to
me as if they had been on the watch for us. It struck
me that way at first; but I found out afterwards that
they were going down to the command to make a fight
with Crook. I came up to within five hundred yards of
where they were sitting, smoking. Their horses were
feeding with their saddles on. They had apparently
A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE. 277
just got there and wanted to take a rest. Of course,
we thought they were watching for us. I think from
the way the men in our party expressed themselves, they
would have fought the entire Sioux nation then and
there before they would have tried to run or get away.
Some were anxious to fight this small body of Indians
in front of us, especially Mr. Finerty.
Just at Sundown the Indians mounted their horses
and started toward the command. We sat there and
watched them until they got within a short distance of
the command, when it became so dark that we could not
See any longer. By this time the men were thoroughly
exhausted and hungry; but there was no help for it, we
had to travel, and started out toward the command. We
could not walk over a hundred yards at a time without
sitting down and resting. Reaching Big Goose creek we
found the stream had been swollen by the rain we had
had the previous night, and the current being very swift
it was hard to cross. Two of the men refused to cross
it. These two had gone crazy and were like children.
They begged to be allowed to lie down in the brush and
sleep. We could not get them to cross, and there was
nobody in the party strong enough to carry them across
where the water would reach up to our necks. There
was nothing in the world that would make them go with
us. Finally we decided to leave them, the rest of the
party crossing.
Of course, after getting wet it made it a great deal
worse for us to travel, our clothes being soaked and the
water cold. I don’t think we went over two or two and
278 A MIRAC ULOUS ESCAPE.
one-half miles before daylight, and the men were so hun-
gry that they would eat anything they could lay their
hands on. They would catch little birds and eat them,
feathers and all, and would not wait to kill them, even.
There would be four or five young birds in a nest, and
the men would get them and eat them right down.
Finally I showed them some Indian turnips; gave each one
a top so they would know what they were, and set them
to digging. It was not long before they had plenty of
these wild turnips, and their hunger was thus partially
appeased.
About 10 o’clock we discovered a man on horseback
riding along the hill ahead of us. Taking out my glass
I saw it was a soldier. He waited until we got up to
him, and we found he was out hunting. He told us
about the Indians making a raid on the camp on the
previous night. We sent him to bring horses out to us,
for some of the men could not walk any further. We
waited on the hill until the horses were brought to us.
As soon as the horses arrived we got on to them,
and it was but a short time before we were in camp.
There were two companies of cavalry sent out with the
horses. One company went out for the two men we
had left on the other side of the Big Goose creek.
The soldiers found them where we had left them, sound
asleep, and brought them in. One of them strayed away
from the command afterwards and was never heard of.
I think the Indians must have captured and killed him.
The other one was taken to Washington, but never got
over being crazy. Of course after we got to camp, the
A MIRACUL OU S E SCAPE. 279
first thing we did was to eat, and then we went to sleep.
I told the General as quick as we got in what had
happened—reported it to him. They all told us we were
pretty lucky in getting away, but we knew that ourselves.
“The ‘Sibley Scout’ is famous among Indian fighters
as being one of the narrowest escapes from savages now
on record. The hero (Lieutenant Sibley) of that hazard-
ous encounter with the dreaded Sioux, passed the winter
at this place in company with the writer,” says a San
Diego correspondent of the New York Tribune, “ and
favored him with a sketch of that memorable action of
a handful of troopers away up in the Big Horn mount-
ains, far from the main command. It was in 1876, at
the time of Custer's massacre, when E. W. Sibley of
General Crook's column, then a young lieutenant, was
ordered out with twenty-five mounted men to look about
the country and see what was going on. Frank Grouard,
one of the best scouts living, accompanied Sibley. The
young officer was fresh from West Point, and rather in-
experienced in frontier warfare, so cautious General
Crook bade him heed the scout’s advice should emergency
arise, and off the troopers started almost at the very
hour when Custer, a hundred miles or so away, was
being cut to pieces by the cut-throats of Sitting Bull.
“The scouting party was ignorant of this, however,
and traveled for two days without incident. As they
neared the mountains Grouard, who always traveled
ahead, suddenly signaled to halt. Indian signs were
280 A MIRAO UILO US ESCAPE.
seen. From an eminence commanding a vast area of
rolling country, little specks could be seen here and
there. The glass proved that each speck was a squad
of Sioux in war costume. The speeks began to concen-
trate. They moved toward the trail made by the troop-
ers, but without discovering it for a long time. The
Indians were ignorant of the presence of soldiers. After
holding a pow-wow, one of the savages rode toward the
tell-tale trail. By chance he discovered it and returned
to his comrades waving his blanket and gesticulating. It
then seemed to the young cavalry officer as if Indians
sprang from the earth in all directions to see what had
been discovered. There were swarms of them. But,
happily, they were miles away. Then began the race
for life. The mountains offered the only refuge.
“Up and up scrambled the horses. On came the In-
dians. They were occasionally along canyons in the rear.
The band had divided and was trying to head off the
soldiers and surround them. Suddenly, as the soldiers
ascended the side of a gulch and gained a small plateau,
a party of redskins sprang at them, firing their rifles and
yelling.
“The men scattered like sheep,” says Captain Sib-
ley, “and I confess for the moment my heart was in my
mouth. My horse fell down an embankment, which added
to my discomfort. I ordered the men to fire, even if
they didn’t aim at the enemy, for a rifle made a 'noise
like a cannon amid those hills. Finally, the men got
together and we retreated up a slope to a bit of wooded
ground which protected us from the Indians' fire. This
(LITTLE BAT.)
BAPTISTE GAUNIER.

A MIRAC ULO US ESCAPE. 281
was about 9 o'clock in the morning. The Indians began
to gather about us rapidly. The situation was growing
more serious every minute. It pleased me to see one
man shoot a noted chief right through the heart. That
old sinner never twitched a muscle after the lead hit
him. … We never knew how many we killed, because
when an Indian is shot his comrades keep him out of
sight. Well, we held them off for four hours, and they
were four hours of red-hot work, I can tell you. My
scout then told me that the Indians were on three sides
of us. We had one chance left to retreat, and this
chance was fast lessening, because fresh Indians were
coming.
“I did not like to abanbon our horses, but it was
that or die. So the retreat was ordered. I inspected
each man personally to see that his equipment was all
right, but owing to my inexperience and the excitement
of the moment, I forgot the rations. Only one man
in the command took his rations.
“It was an hour or so before the Indians discovered
we had fled. By that time we were up in the mountains
in places so steep that one man had to help the other up.
Horses could not follow us. So, for the time being, the
Sioux would not strike us. Grouard took a mountain
trail which we followed on foot for fifty hours without a
mouthful to eat. Such fearfully vigorous exercise with-
out food nearly killed us. Toward the end of the perilous
march we all became so weakened that we marched for
ten minutes and then would lie down and rest. Several
of the most robust men became insane and one or two
282 A MIIPACULO US ESCAPE.
never regained their wits. When we reached Crook's
camp I slept for twenty-four hours without waking, and
during that time the camp was sharply attacked by In-
dians. Even the roar of the musketry did not disturb
my sleep in the least. Not a single man was lost on
this trip.”
[The escape from peril so imminent—the very jaws
of death—is graphically told by Mr. John Finnerty in
his highly interesting volume, “Warpath and Bivouac.”
Finnerty devotes many pages to the object and movement
of the “Sibley Scout,” as it has always been called, and
by his kind permission we reproduce in this volume his
realistic account of the escape of the Sibley party (him-
self included) from the horde of bloodthirsty savages
which surrounded it.—AUTHOR.]
As the volume of the Indian fire seemed to increase,
says Finnerty, “no surrender’ was the word passed from
man to man around the thin skirmish line. Each of us
would, if necessary, have blown out his own brains rather
than fall alive into the Indians’ hands. Doubtless, if we
had remained long enough, the Indians would have re-
lieved us of all responsibility on that score. A disabling
wound would have been worse than death. I have often
wondered how a man felt when he thought he saw inev-
itable, sure death upon him. I know it now, for I
had little or no idea that we could effect our escape, and,
mentally at least, I could scarcely have felt my position
more keenly if an Indian knife or bullet had wounded
me in some vital spot. So, I think, it was with all the
A MIRAC ULO US ESCAPE. 283
command, but nobody seemed, therefore, to weaken. It
is one thing, however, to face death in the midst of the
excitement of a general battle. It is quite another thing
to face him in almost cold blood, with the certain pros-
pect of your dishonored body being first mutilated in a
revolting manner, and then left to feed the wolf or the
vulture among the savage mountains. After a man once
sees the skull and cross bones as clearly as our party saw
them on the afternoon of Friday, July 7th, 1876, no sub-
sequent glimpse of grim mortality can possibly impress
him in the same manner.
Well, the eternal shadows seemed to be fast closing
around us; the Indians' bullets were hitting nearer every
moment, and the Indian yell was growing stronger and
fiercer, when a hand was laid on my shoulder, and Rufus,
a soldier who was my neighbor on the skirmish line,
said, “the rest are retiring. Lieutenant Sibley tells us
to do the same.” I quietly withdrew from the foot of
the friendly pine tree, which, with a fallen trunk that lay
almost across it, kept at least a dozen Indian bullets
from making havoc of my body, and prepared to obey.
As I passed by Sibley, who wanted to see every man
under his command in the line of retreat before he stirred
himself, the young officer said, “Go to your saddle bags,
With caution. and take all your ammunition. We are going
to abandon our remaining horses. The Indians are get-
ting all around us, so we must take to the rocks and
thick timber on foot. It seems to be our only chance of
escape.” I did as directed, but felt a pang at leaving
my noble animal, which was bleeding from a wound in
284 A MIRAC ULO US ESCAPE.
the right side. We dared not shoot our surviving horses,
for that would have discovered our movement to the
enemy.
Grouard advised this strategy, saying that as the In-
dians occupied the passes east, west and north of us –
all of them being difficult at the best—we could not
possibly effect a retreat on horseback, even if our ani-
mals had escaped unwounded. If the grass had happened
to have been a little bit dryer, and it would not take
long to dry, as there had been only a light thunder-
shower during the afternoon, the Indians, in Grouard's
opinion, would have tried to burn us out of the timber.
He bluntly told the Lieutenant that the position was un-
tenable, at such a distance from Crook’s camp. And even
if a man could succeed in getting through to the Gen.
eral, we could not expect timely relief, and all would be
over with us long before an attempt at rescue could be
made. Therefore, Grouard said, if Lieutenant Sibley did
not choose to take his advice, upon the officer should
rest the responsibility of whatever might happen.
There was no time to be lost if we meant to get
away at all, and certainly there was nothing to gain,
but everything to lose, by remaining where we were.
Sibley, although very averse to retreating, finally yielded
to the calm voice of the scout, whose great experience
among the Sioux rendered him familiar with all the
methods of Indian warfare. The arguments used by
Grouard were warmly seconded by Baptiste Pourier, one
of the most reliable scouts on the frontier, who was a C-
quainted from childhood with the subtle tactics of the
Savages.
A MIIPAC ULO US ESCAPE. 285
When the retreat was decided on, we acted with an
alacrity which only men who have, at some time strug-
gled for their lives, can understand. A couple of scat-
tering volleys and some random shots were fired, to
make the savages believe that we were still in position.
As we had frequently reserved our fire during the fight,
our silence would not be noticed immediately. We then
retired in Indian file, through the trees, rocks and fallen
timber in rear of us. Our horses were, evidently,
plainly visible to the Indians—a circumstance that facili-
tated our escape. We retreated for, perhaps, a mile
through the forest, which was filled with rugged boulders
and trunks of fallen pine trees, through which no horse
could penetrate, waded one of the branches of Tongue
river up to our waists, and gained the slippery rocks of
the great mountain ridge, where no mounted Indians,
who are as lazy on foot as they are active on horse-
back, could pursue us. Then, as we paused to catch our
breath, we heard, in the distance, five or six ringing
volleys in succession. It was most likely the final fire
delivered by the Indians before they charged our late
position, with the hope of getting our scalps.
“That means we are safe for the present,” said
Grouard, “but let us lose no time in putting more rocks
between us and the White Antelope.” We followed his
advice with a feeling of thankfulness that those only who
have passed through such an ordeal can appreciate. How
astonished and chagrined the reinforced savages must have
been when they ran in upon the maimed horses and did
not get a single scalp ! Even under such circumstances
286 A MIRAO UI,O US ESCAPE.
as we were placed in, we could not help indulging in a
laugh at their expense. But we had escaped one danger
only to encounter another. Fully fifty miles of mountain,
rock, forest, river and canyon lay between us and Crook’s
camp. We were unable to carry any food upon our
persons. The weather was close, owing to the thunder-
shower, and we threw away everything superfluous in the
way of clothing. With ravening Indians behind us, and
uncounted precipices before us, we found our rifles and
what remained of our one hundred rounds of ammunition
each, a sufficient load to carry. The brave and skillful
Grouard, the ablest of scouts, seconded by the fearless
Pourier, conducted our retreat through the mountain
wilderness, and we marched, climbed and scrambled over
impediments that at any other time might have been
impossible to us, until about midnight, when absolute
fatigue compelled us to make a halt. Then we bivouacked
under the projections of an immense pile of rocks on the
very summit of some unknown peak, and there witnessed
one of the most terrible wind and hailstorms that can be
imagined. The trees seemed to fall by the hundred, and
their noise, as they broke off and fell, or were uptorn by
the roots, resembled rapid discharges of field artillery.
To add to our discomfort, the thermometer fell several
degrees, and, being attired in summer campaign costume
only, we suffered greatly from the cold.
Almost before dawn we were again stumbling through
the rocks and fallen trees, and, about sunrise, reached the
tremendous canyon, cut through the mountain by what is
called the southern branch of Tongue river. Most of
A MIRAC ULO US ESCAPE. 287
fhe men were too much exhausted to make the descent
of the canyon, so Grouard, finding a fairly practicable
path, led us to an open valley down by the river, on the
left bank, hard as we could walk, for if discovered by any
considerable body of Indians, we could only halt, and
worn out as most of the little band were, die together.
Fortune favored us, and we made the right bank of the
stream unobserved, being then, according to the calcula-
tions of the scouts, about five and twenty miles from
Crook’s encampment. In our front, toward the east, we
could see the plain through which Tongue river flowed,
where, no doubt, as it was then a fine game country, hos-
tile Indians abounded, while our only safe avenue of es-
cape was to cross the stream and climb the enormous
precipice that formed the right side of the canyon. But
the dauntless Grouard was equal to the emergency. He
scaled the gigantic wall diagonally, and led us along what
looked like a mere squirrel path, not more than a foot
wide, with an abyss of, perhaps, five hundred feet below,
and a sheer wall of rock two hundred feet high, above
us. After about an hour's herculean toil, we gained the
crest and saw the point of mountain, some twenty miles
distant, where lay our camp and comrades. This, as well
may be imagined, was a blissful vision, but we were half
dead from fatigue, and some of us were almost famine
stricken. Yet the indefatigable Grouard would not stop
until we reached the eastern foot-hills, where we made,
so to speak, a dive into a deep valley to obtain water—
our only refreshment on that hard, rugged road. The
leaves from the pine trees made the hillsides as slippery
dº
288 A MIRAC ULO US ESCAPE.
as glass, and where there were neither grass nor trees,
the broken stones and “shale’’ made walking absolutely
painful. Scarcely had we slaked our thirst when Grouard
led us up to the hills again, and we had barely entered
the timber belt when the scout uttered a warning “hush,”
and threw himself upon the ground, motioning us to do
the same. He pointed toward the north, and there,
wheeling around the base of the point of the mountain
we had doubled so shortly before, appeared another strong
party of the Sioux in open order. The savages were
riding along quite leisurely, and, although fairly numerous,
were evidently only the advance or rear guard of some
larger party. This sight made us desperate. Every man
examined his carbine and looked to his ammunition. We
all felt that life would be too dearly purchased by fur-
ther flight, and, following the example of the brave young
Sibley and the gallant scouts, we took up a position among
the rocks on the knoll we had reached, determined, if
called upon, to sell our lives as dearly as possible.
“We are in pretty hard luck, it would seem,” said
Sibley, addressing me; “but, d them, we’ll show the
red scoundrels how white men can fight and die, if nec-
essary. Men,” he said, addressing the soldiers, “we have
a good position ; let every shot dispose of an Indian.”
At that moment not a man among us felt any incli.
nation to get away. Desperation and a thirst for ven-
geance on the savages had usurped the place of the ani-
mal instinct to save our lives. In such moments mind
rises superior to matter and soul to the nerves. But for-
tune spared us the ordeal of another fight in our weak
*
A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE. 289
ened condition. Our position, as the Lieutenant had said,
was a good one. On the left, or north of us, there was
a difficult precipice, which hung above the stream of
whose waters we had just drank to satiety. The woods
grew thinly on our front, toward the east and the south
of us was an almost open slope. Our rear was well se-
cured by an irregular line of huge boulders, and rocks of
good size afforded us fair shelter in nearly all directions.
There was also some fallen timber, but not enough to
make a serious blaze if the enemy should try their fav-
orite maneuver of burning us out. The Sioux, fortunately
for them, and, no doubt, for us, too, failed to observe our
party, and did not advance high enough on the hills to
find our trail. They kept eastward, following a branch
of Tongue river.
The excitement over, we all again felt thoroughly
worn out, and fell asleep, all except the tireless and ever
vigilant scouts, and awoke at dark feeling somewhat re-
freshed, but painfully hungry. Not a man of us, what-
ever the risk, Sioux or no Sioux, could endure the moun-
tain route longer, so we took our wearied, jaded lives
into our hands, and struck out for Crook’s camp across
the plains, fording Big Goose creek up to our armpits at
three o'clock in the morning, the water being as cold as
the melting mountain snows could make it. Two of the
men, Sergeant Cornwall and Private Collins, absolutely
refused to ford the creek, as neither could swim, and the
current was exceedingly rapid. Sibley threatened and
coaxed them alternately in vain, but those men, who could
face bullets and tomahawks without flinching, would not
290 A MIRACULO US ESCAPE.
be induced to cross that stream. They begged to be al-
lowed to hide in the bushes on the north side of the
creek, until horses could be sent after them. Sibley, after
providentially escaping so many dangers, could not sacri-
fice the rest of his command for two obstinately foolish
men, and the scouts urged him to push on. This We did
reluctantly, but there was no alternative. We judged
that our main camp must still be some dozen miles away
on Little Goose creek, but every step, chiefly because of
the toil attending the previous mountain journey, became
laborious. My readers can judge for themselves how
badly we were used up, when it took us four hours to
accomplish six miles. The rocks had broken our boots
and skinned our feet, while starvation had weakened our
frames. Only a comparatively few were vigorous enough
to maintain a decently rapid pace. About five o’clock
we saw some more Indians toward the east, but at Some
distance. We took no pains whatever to conceal our-
selves, which, indeed, would have been a vain task on
the nearly naked plain ; and the savages, if they saw us,
which is highly probable, must have mistaken us for an
outlying picket, and being only, comparatively speaking,
a handful, kept away. At about 6:30 o'clock we saw
two horses grazing on a little knoll, and the carbines
glittering on their “boots” on the saddles proclaimed
the riders to be cavalrymen. Presently the men rose out
of the long grass and made for their guns, but we hailed
them and they recognized us. They were men of the
Second Cavalry, who had obtained permission to go hunt-
ing, and who were bound for Tongue river, where they
A MIRACULO US ESCAPE. 291
*
would have certainly fallen in with the Sioux. Lieut.
Sibley sent them into camp to ask for an escort to pro-
ceed as far as Big Goose creek for the two men who
had stopped there. Most of Sibley’s men threw them-
selves on the ground, unable to move further, and awaited
the arrival of the horses. Within an hour and a half
Capts. Dewees and Rawolle, of the Second Cavalry, came
out to us with led horses and some cooked provisions.
They greeted us most warmly, and, having aided us most
kindly, proceeded to pick up Sergeant Cornwell and Pri-
vate Collins, who were found all safe, concealed in the
thick undergrowth of Big Goose creek, and who reached
camp a few hours after ourselves. It was ten o'clock
Sunday morning, July 9, 1876, when we rode in among
the tents, amid congratulations from officers and men
alike.
Thus, after passing through scenes of great peril and
privation, our little band found itself in Camp Cloud Peak,
surrounded by devoted and hospitable comrades. After
we had somewhat recovered from our great fatigue, and
refreshed ourselves by a most welcome bath in the creek,
we were obliged to relate our experience again and again
for the benefit of the entire ‘‘ outfit.” All agreed that
Frank Grouard, for the good judgment and skill with
which he managed our retreat, deserved to take rank
among the foremost of Scouts and plainsmen. Nor did
quiet, intrepid Baptiste Pourier (Big Bat) lack admirers
around the camp-fires of Crook’s brigade. The oldest
among Indian fighters, including such officers as Colonel
Royall and Lieutenant Lawson, concurred in saying that
292 A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE.
escape from danger so imminent and so appalling, in a
manner so ingenious and successful, was without a parallel
in the history of Indian warfare. It was fortunate, they
said, for our party that an officer possessing the coolness
and good sense of Lieutenant Sibley had command of it.
A rash, bull-headed commander would have disregarded
the advice of Grouard and Pourier, and would have thus
brought ruin and death upon all of us. Colonel Royall, in
the absence of General Crook, who was in the mountain
on a hunt, was kind enough to say that while a spare horse
remained in his regiment, it would be at my disposal, in
lieu of the one I had lost in the Sibley Scout, as the
reconnoissance has ever since been called by the Ameri-
can army.

CHAPTER XL.
gºmºsºmº-e
SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUTING.
Gen. Crook (who had become impatient at being in
camp so long after getting orders to wait for reinforce-
ments—the Fifth Cavalry) made up l is mind he would
jump the hostiles with what command he had. The In-
dians were watching us every day. We could see them
around on the hills. Finally we broke camp, and moved
from the Little Goose creek, where our camp then was,
to the Big Goose canyon, where Beckton is at present,
crossing the river there. That night the Indiaus fired
on us and tried to stampede the horses and pack train.
We were forced to make a corral every night for the
mules. That night I had my horse tied right by the
side of my bed, which I had made down in one end of
the corral. When the mules stampeded I jumped on
my horse, and when they broke through the corral, I
went with them on horseback. They ran four or five
miles before I could get them stopped. One of the
packers had presence of mind enough to jump on one of
the horses as the mules were going out of the corral,
and with his help it was not long before I had the herd
turned back towards camp. All this time the Indians
294 SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUTING.
were following and shooting on both sides of the herd.
We finally got the animals back into camp.
The command then moved from there over to
Tongue river, but we could find no trace of the Indian
camp. The hostiles had left that locality, going in an
easterly direction, and Gen. Crook brought the command
back to Little Goose creek, Gen. Merritt, with the Fifth
Cavalry, joining us on Soldier creek. Moving down to
the forks of Big and Little Goose creeks, where Sheridan
is now located, we went into permanent camp, and got
ready to follow the Indians, wherever they had gone.
Some of our scouts had to leave us while we were
camped on Goose creek, so I got orders to hire all the
scouts I could find. I hired Charlie Chapin, Bill Zim-
mers, Jim Phoenix, Black Hills Frank and Calamity
Jane. When the Fifth cavalry joined us they had brought
Buffalo Bill, Buffalo Chips (Charlie White), Jack Craw-
ford (Captain Jack), Smalsey, Limber Jim and Little
Bat. There were others whose names I do not remem-
ber.
Everything being ready and preparations made for a
long march, we left the wagon train on the east side of
Goose creek above the forks and started down Tongue
river, through the canyon, and crossing over to the Rose-
bud. I was out in that locality one day with Gen.
Crook trying to find a trail of the Indians — which way
they had gone. On passing through the canyon of the
Rosebud I took Gen. Crook up and showed him where
the Indians had fortified themselves in order to draw the
command down during the fight we had on June 17th
SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUTING.
2
9
5
with them on the head of the Rosebud. After the Gen-
eral had seen the ground and gone over it and compre-
hended how the Indians were fortified ; how they could
have killed us without our harming them, he turned
around, but never said a word. Afterwards, shaking
hands with me, he said he was glad he “didn’t get bull-
headed.” That is the way he expressed it. Finding the
Indian trail from where their village had been located,
we started to follow them up ; but they having such a
long start of us—some three weeks, I think—there was
not much chance of our catching them. They had gone
into camp or scattered to the different agencies.
Following down the Rosebud until we met Gen.
Terry’s command, about forty miles from the mouth of
the Rosebud, we followed the Indian trail where it left
the stream, and crossed to Tongue river, following
it down to the mouth of Mizpah (the Indian name was
Four-Horn creek). Then we went up that creek, and
crossed to Powder river. Both of the commands kept to-
gether until that time. Being short of supplies and not
knowing how long we would have to follow the Indians,
we went down to the mouth of Powder river to the can-
tonment, or supply camp. Bill Cody (Buffalo Bill) left
us there, taking a steamer and going back east, so he
was not with us but a very short time. That was the
first scouting he ever did, I guess. We went down as
far as Glendive to find out if the Indians had crossed.
After getting all the supplies that were at hand, we
started up the river to where the Indian trail left Pow-
der river, leading toward the Little Missouri.
296 SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUTING.
Taking the trail and leaving the command there to
follow up the Indian trail, I took Capt. Jack Crawford
with me. It was the first trip he had ever been out
on as a scout. My idea was to find out which way
the Indians had gone ; whether they had separated or
kept together. Striking the head of Beaver creek we
kept right down for about forty miles, and then went
across towards the Little Missouri on the north side of
Lookout Butte, and from there down across to the Lit-
tle Missouri. One Indian trail led down the Little Mis-
souri and crossed over to the head of Heart river, giving
every indication that the camp had divided just about
half and half. From the appearance of the trail, how-
ever, I was satisfied that those going down the Missouri
were Sitting Bull’s band making for the British pos-
sesssions, and that the other party was going over into
the Black Hills.
Turning back at that point to meet the command
(it was pretty late when we turned back) and going
away from the river, we stopped in a dry gulch and
cooked something to eat. After we finished our meal
it was just a little after sundown. I was sitting there
smoking, and a party of Indians came down the trail
that we had taken. It was just dark enough for me
to see there were a lot of horsemen, and we were
camped right on the trail. The fire had almost gone
out at that time, and it was but the work of a minute
to cover the fire over with dirt, but the Indians had
seen it. They came riding down within about eighty
yards of us, stopping and asking who we were. I an-
SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUTING. 297
swered with a bullet, and continued shooting rapidly at
them. As soon as I began to shoot they turned and
ran. I killed one of their horses. There were only a
few of them, and they were as badly scared as we
Were.
After I got through shooting I could not find any-
thing of Capt. Jack Crawford. I looked all around for
him, but failed to discover him. The horses were in
the gulch feeding, and I commenced hallooing for Jack,
as there was no time to be lost. I had to get out of
there. Thinking he might have gone up the gulch, I
got on a horse and started up, yelling for him, and
finally found him up the gulch in a patch of brush.
He had run off and hid. I never said anything to
him, but told him we must hurry back, and would be
forced to ride as hard as we could. So we got on our
horses and rode all night, reaching the command at day-
light. I reported to the General about the different In-
dian trails and the manner in which the band had split
up, and also explained that I thought it would be best
to follow the band that had gone toward the Hills. The
General thought it would be best, also, as we were
short of provisions. So sending a party of Scouts across
over to the Little Missouri at the mouth of the Cannon
Ball to try and find out if their trail headed that way,
the command started on the main trail, following it
across the Little Missouri, up through the badlands and
on to the head of Heart river.
Just as we got out of the badlands we discovered
a large number of Indians and a great many horses go-
298 SOMETHING ABOUT SCOU FING.
ing in a northerly direction. The animals appeared to be
packed. Starting on to try and overtake them, and tak-
ing some of the scouts, I chased them about ten miles
into the badlands. There they made a stand, and it
was such a strong one we could not do anything with
them.
Bill Hamilton, one of the scouts I had, who was very
deaf and who could not hear ordinary speaking, went
with us into the badlands. Just as quick as we got
up to where the Indians were, they commenced shooting
at us, and we had to come down over the hills to keep
out of range of their bullets. Bill Hamilton came up
and asked us where the Indians were. I pointed over
the hill, and one of the boys told him not to go over
there ; that they would kill him. But Bill didn’t hear it,
and commenced whipping his horse, telling the rest of
us to come on ; that we would kill every last one of
them. As soon as he raised the hill the Indians com-
menced firing at him, and being so deaf and not hearing
the shooting, he got down over and went to the bottom
of the hill, where one of the Indians shot a bullet
through his hat. s
That was the first intimation he had that they were
firing at him. He yelled, “They are firing at me !” and
pulled off his hat and looked at it. As quick as he saw
the bullet had gone through his hat, he lost no time in
getting back over the hill, and made some sarcastic re-
marks about it, and wanted to know why the boys did
not tell him the Indians were firing at him. He looked
up as surprised as could be, to think they were firing at
SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUTING. 299
him and he not know it. He was on a lazy horse, and
was whipping it with all his might when he went over
the hill, and paid so much attention to his animal that
he did not see the Indians. It was very funny to see
him coming back over the hill, though.
He had been deaf to onr warnings of danger, but
the manner in which he returned to our party clearly
proved that he at least possessed the faculty of making
a lazy horse “take the wings of morning” when occasion
required. And occasion required it right then.

SUſ)
O
ſºfts
CHAPTER XLI.
*=
THE SLIM BUTTES FIGHT.
Finding our small party of scouts could not get the
Indians, and that it was not worth while trying to dis-
lodge them, we went back to the command, which had
gone into camp. All the supplies had been used—all
the rations. It was just about one hundred miles to Fort
Lincoln and the same distance to Deadwood and the
Black Hills. At Lincoln there were government supplies,
and at Deadwood we would have to purchase them, or
run our chances of buying enough to do us. Then, again,
if we went to Lincoln, we would lose the object of our
summer's march and the opportunity of overtaking the In-
dians. On the other hand, if we went to the Hills we had
the chance of jumping the Indians and not having had all
our summer's work for nothing. The rain — it had been
raining then just about a week—was falling in a steady
drizzle, and there was not a dry article of any kind in
the whole command.
Between us and the Hills the entire country had
this sticky, gumbo soil. In either case it would be a
hard trip for the command, and would entail a good deal
of suffering, whichever way we went. I thought it would
COLONEL ANSON MILLS.
BY PERMISSION OF JOHN F. FINERTY.

THE SLIM BUTTES FIGHT. 301
be best to go towards the Hills; that we would be sure
to jump the Indians before they got into the agency.
The General said there was no possibility of our starv-
ing, as we had plenty of horses and mules. He called
his field officers together, and gave orders to march to
the Black Hills, telling them that we would have to live
on horse and mule meat until rations could be procured.
The next morning we started towards the Hills. It
was a pretty hard struggle from there on. The horses
commenced to play out. As fast as the poor brutes fell
the quartermaster had them killed and issued as rations,
so the soldiers had nothing but played-out horses to eat
from there on into the Hills. It looked funny to see a
soldier ride his horse until it dropped exhausted, and
then get off and shoot it and cut its carcass up and issue
the meat to the soldiers of the different companies. The
command was out of everything. I suppose, from what
I saw and what they told me, that it was a pretty hard
struggle for the troops. I didn’t get much of the hard
part of it, as I was out killing game ; besides, we had
a mess of our own and our own pack mules, so that
we had plenty of provisions all through the whole trip.
Myself, Tom Moore, the packer, Dave Meers, his assistant,
and Big Bat, were all together. My being out so much,
I killed game and brought it in to the mess. Gen.
Crook fared just the same as the soldiers. Once and
awhile the staff would steal down to our mess and get a
square meal of beans, but the General had prohibited
them from going to our mess. That was one distinctive
characteristic of Gen. Crook’s—he would not take any
302 t THIE SLIM BUTTES FIGHT.
advantage of his command. If they starved, he starved
with them.
On the fourth night from Heart river it was thought
best to send part of the command on to the Black Hills
for supplies, and knowing the Indians to be between us
and the Black Hills, the General thought I had better go
with them, and said he would send sufficient force to
jump any village we would come across. I’icking out one
hundred and fifty men, with six pack trains (Tom Moore
in charge of the pack trains), we left camp at 9 o'clock
in the evening, with Captain Mills in command, and Lieut.
Crawford, Lieut. Schwatka and Lieut. Von Leuttewitz
accompanying us. Crawford was killed by the Mexicans
afterwards. Schwatka became famous as an Arctic ex-
plorer, and is now dead ; Von Leuttewitz was shot in the
Slim Butte fight, had his leg amputated, was pensioned off,
and is now living in Washington. I took Captain Jack
Crawford with me. We traveled all night, striking Big
Plum the next morning, and making our breakfast off of
plums. After resting up awhile we started again about
8 o’clock. We could not travel fast. It had stopped
raining, but the fog had settled so that we could not
see but a short distance ahead. Keeping the command
about three hundred yards behind so they could watch all
our movements, we traveled until about 1 o’clock. Once
in a while the fog would rise so that I could see a mile or
two ahead of me, and during one of these rises of the fog,
I discovered a lot of Indian ponies on ahead of me about
a mile.
Giving the signal for the command to stop, I rode
THE SLIM BUTTES FIGHT. 303
back to them and told them there was an Indian village in
front of us. Putting the soldiers into a deep ravine so
they could not be seen from a distance, I went on as far
as I could without being discovered. I could not see the
village, but knew it was down in the bed of the creek.
I wanted to find out how large a village it was, and
whether it would be practicable for our small command
to jump it. Cautioning the men not to show themselves,
and muffling the bells on the pack mules so they would
make no noise, I went forward again and kept watch the
rest of the day. As soon as darkness came on I rode
down to the village, and found it was only a small affair
— thirty-nine lodges and about two hundred people.
Disguised as an Indian, I went all through the village,
looking for the best point to attack it from. I finally
concluded we had sufficient force to capture the entire
village.
In front of one of the tepis in the village I saw two
very fine looking horses. Both animals were on picket
lines, and I made up my mind that they were a little too
rich for Indian blood, but not too rich for mine. So I
just waited around until everything was quiet, slipped up
to the tepi, untied the ropes and led the animals out of
the village as unconcernedly as if I were taking them to
water. They became famous horses afterwards. One was
a pinto and the other a black stallion. One of them I
a Miss Collins —
and the other I gave to Big Bat. I heard afterwards
gave to a young lady from the east
that the latter horse was sold back east for five hundred
dollars. Telling Captain Mills on my return how the
304 THE SLIM BUTTES FIGHT.
camp was situated, I informed him the best way to attack
it would be to jump it at the break of day. We placed
One man as sentry, and the rest of us laid down and slept
until 3 o'clock. At that hour the command was awakened.
We got everything ready, and Lieut. Crawford was de-
tailed to take charge of one party of fifty men, Capt.
Mills in charge of another party, and Lieut. Schwatka,
with twenty mounted men, was to take charge of and drive
off the ponies. The rest of the command we dismounted,
with the pack train, to follow up with the horses.
Telling them to come on towards the village, I went
down to see if the Indians suspected our presence, or if
there was anything amiss in camp. I told Capt. Mills
to come up as close to the village as he could, until I
could go back to him. When I got down in the village,
the Indians had turned most all of their horses loose,
and had gone back into their lodges. In fact, one squaw
came out and turned her horses loose when I was in
plain sight. They were tied in front of the lodge. She
turned them loose while I was watching her. I was lying
down on my horse, so I don’t think she could see me.
She supposed the animal I was on was one of the In-
dian horses that had been turned loose, and paid no fur-
ther attention to it.
Just as I turned to go back to the command, the In-
dian horses came stampeding through the village, and
when I got up on the hill the command had arrived
there. Capt. Mills had reached within seventy yards of
the village. As the horses stampeded through the village
it woke the Indians up, and they commenced to run out
THE SLIM BUTTES FIGHT. 305
of their lodges to see what the matter was. Seeing there
would be no time to place the other company of soldiers
on the other side of the village, and that all our chance
was to surprise them, we commenced firing on them from
where we were. I told Capt. Mills he had lost all chance
of capturing the village with the Indians in it; that he
had better commence the fight at once. I then went to
Schwatka and told him to charge and drive the horses
off, and went with him myself.
When the troops first opened fire, I did not see what
the result was ; but going back a short time afterwards—
when we had got the horses driven away—I saw there
had been a mistake made, and the Indians were firing
back and the fight was general. Capt. Mills had given
the order to retreat, and Crawford had told him that it
was impossible to retreat. The Indians had run out of
the village and got on the other side of the creek, so
that the village lay in between the Indians and the sol-
diers. It was a sure enough fight there for a little while
across the village. Knowing the Indians would have re-
inforcements before a great while, I tried to send Capt.
Jack back with dispatches to Gen. Crook, but he didn’t
want to go, and one of the packers volunteered and went
back. Giving the courier a verbal message to Crook,
telling the General how we were situated, and asking him
to hurry up his command, or part of it, as quickly as
possible, I went back to the fight, and found that Lieut.
Von Leuttewitz had been shot through the knee. A cor-
poral had also been wounded. The surgeon amputated
their legs afterward.
306 THE SLIM BUTTES FIGHT.
We then moved around so as to drive the Indians
from the other side of the creek, which we did ; but a
few of them got into a kind of cave, and they could
not be driven out, and it was a long while afterward
before we could get them out. They killed several of
our men before we could dislodge or capture them. Up
to that time nobody had ventured down into the village.
Of course, we did not know about these Indians being
in this cave until we got down into the village ; not
until the soldiers went down to plunder the village.
Dried meat was the first thing the soldiers looked for.
The troopers found a great many things that had be-
longed to Custer’s command, such as a guidon, a great
deal of clothing and money.
During the charge made on the village Private W.
J. McClinton, of Troop C, Third cavalry, discovered one
of the guidons belonging to the ill-fated Custer com-
mand. It was fastened to the lodge of American Horse,
and McClinton lost no time in securing the trophy. The
guidon was given by McClinton to Captain Mills, and
finally found its way back to the Seventh cavalry. Mr.
McClinton was very proud of the capture he had made
at the Slim Buttes battle, and when he received his
discharge papers he found the face of the document em-
bellished, in red ink, with a statement of the fact of the
guidon’s capture by himself. Mr. McClinton is at pres-
ent a resident of Sheridan, Wyoming, where he has lived
for many years, and has been successful in business.
He never tires of singing the praises of General Crook
and the brave men who opened up the rich valleys of
the Tongue and Goose creeks to settlement.
*- -
WM. J. McCLINTON, WHO RECAPTURED THE CUSTER GUIDON.


THE SLIM BUTTES FIGHT. 307
The lodges were full of furs and meat, and it seemed
to be a very rich village. One man found eleven thou-
sand dollars, I think it was, all in one roll, in one of
the tepis. Of course, it had come from the Custer com-
mand. Then another article the soldiers found was to-
bacco, which they were very much in need of, as every-
body was out of the weed. Some of the men went into
a lodge and turned over the robes and blankets. A
little Indian girl jumped out from under the robes. She
commenced crying and screaming as quick as they found
her, and she ran everybody out of the lodge. When
she began to cry and yell the soldiers supposed there
were more Indians in the lodge, and they got out in
double quick time. The little girl was about eight or
nine years old.
It was right at this time that we found that some
of the Indians had got into a cave at one side of the
village. One of the men started to go past that spot
on the hill, and as he passed the place he and his horse
were both shot. This cave or dugout was down in the
bed of a dry creek. The Indian children had been
playing there, and had dug quite a hole in the bank,
so that it made more of a cave than anything else—
large enough to hold quite a number of people. Quick
as we located the Indians we commenced shooting in
there without seeing anything. Not knowing how many
Indians were in there, the soldiers surrounded them and
continued shooting into the cave until they got tired.
They commenced again afterward and kept up a rain of
bullets until after General Crook got into camp.
308 - THE SLIM BUTTES FIGHT.
I kept on the watchout, and was expecting the In-
dians to charge in on us most any time, being afraid
they would renew the attack before Crook joined us, and
I knew we would not have much of a chance with them
in such an emergency, as the main village was not far
from us. I kept a watchout for them, and also for
Crook’s appearance. It was 11 o'clock, I should think,
before I saw General Crook coming over the hill with
some of the cavalry—those who could keep up with him.
I got on a horse and went out to meet the General
and told him what had taken place. I informed him
that I was expecting the Indians, reinforced, to charge
on us every minute. I also told him of the Indians
who were secreted in the cave in the gulch. It was
after 1 o’clock when the last of the command came
over the hill. They had just got into the village when
the Indians (reinforced) made their charge on us.
The Indians had made their charge with the expecta-
tion of finding only a small body of troops, as had been
reported to them by the Indians who had escaped from
the village. I could tell pretty well from the way they
charged down from all directions at once that they never
expected to find such a large body of troops, and it gave
them quite a surprise to find that we were ready for
them. It was not more than ten minutes before the
fight became general all around the camp. After the
General had given orders for the disposition of the
troops, he took what stragglers he could find and tried
to get the Indians out of the cave. We had com-
menced shooting into them, and he asked me if I would
T. HE SLIM BUTTES H'IG IIT. 309
not go and talk to them and try and persuade them to
come out without any more fighting. On the south side
of the village I could walk right over the place where
the Indians were hiding. It was a very steep bank,
probably eight to ten feet high. I could go right up to
them without them seeing me or there being any danger of
getting shot. Going up to that point and talking to
them, I told them if they would come out they would
not be molested, and said everything I could to induce
them to come out. Not getting any answer from them,
the soldiers surrounded the place and commenced firing
into the cave, but the Indians would not fire back.
They would not shoot unless they had a chance to kill
somebody, either. Most every shot they did fire was
sure to kill or wound somebody.
While the firing was going on Big Bat and Buffalo
Chips (Charlie White) came up alongside where I was
standing over the Indians. After the firing into the
hole had been going on for about half an hour, the Gen-
eral gave orders to cease firing. He asked me to talk
to the Indians again, which I did, asking them to come
out. I talked to them some time, but I could get no
answer from them, so I thought by that they would rather
die than come out. Now Buffalo Chips was standing
opposite me. He was one of those long-haired scouts,
and claimed to be a partner of Buffalo Bill’s. He thought
it was a good place to make a name for himself, I sup-
pose, for he told Big Bat that he was going to have one
of the Indians’ scalps. He had no more than got the
words out of his mouth before he yelled, “My God, I
,-am shot.”
310 THE SLIM BUTTES FIGHT.
There was such confusion then that I was looking
out for myself as best I could, but just as I heard this
cry and looked around, Buffalo Chips was falling over
into the hole where the Indians were hiding. Bat was
looking into the cave where White fell, and must have seen
Something I could not see from where I was. Before I
could say anything Bat had jumped into the cave where
the Indians were, and about five seconds afterwards
jumped out with an Indian's scalp in his hand, telling
me he had scalped one of the redskins alive, which I
found out to be true. He had seen the Indian that had
killed Buffalo Chips, and he jumped down onto him as
the Indian was reaching to get White's six-shooter. Bat
had jumped right down on top of him and scalped him
and got out of the cave before anybody knew what he
was doing. - .
When matters had quieted down I asked the Indians
again if they would come out of the hole before there
were any more of them shot, telling them they would
be safe if they would surrender. They told me they
would come out if we would not kill them, and upon re-
ceiving this promise they came out. There were three
bucks and five squaws. One of the Indians had been
shot through the bowels and was holding his entrails in
his hands as he came out. Two of the squaws were also
wounded. Eleven were killed in the hole. As this
wounded Indian came out I recognized him as American
Horse, but you would not have thought he was shot from
his appearance and his looks, except for the paleness of
his face. He came marching out of that death trap as
THE SLIM BUTTES FIGHT. 311
straight as an arrow. Holding out one of his blood-
stained hands he shook hands with me. I took him and
his people over to the General, who ordered them taken
up to the pack train. One of our doctors attended the
wounded. There was no chance for American Horse to
live ; he was wounded so badly. It was just a matter
of a short time when he would die. I asked him why
he didn’t come out of the hole when I first spoke to
them. His answer was that they were afraid they
would be killed, and they thought it better to die than
be captured.
The fight kept up all that day and night—until after
the time the command pulled out of there. Gen. Carr
of the Fifth Cavalry was in command of the rear guard .
as we pulled out the next morning. Our killed were
Privates John Wenzel (Third Cavalry), Edward Kennedy
( Fifth Cavalry) and the scout Charlie White. Over a
score were wounded. We secured only seven captives
—two bucks, four squaws and one little girl. American
Horse "died that night, and we left him on the field
for the Indians to bury or dispose of as they thought
best. We got the village, securing everything that was
worth taking, meat, etc., and burned the rest of the vil-
lage up. We took the horses along. They amounted
to three or four hundred head. The country was so
muddy that we only made a short march of about
twelve miles that day, but the soldiers were glad to
find rest on the damp ground after passing through the
terrible scenes of the past day and night.
CHAPTER XLII.
*====
A WONDERFUL RIDE.
After going into camp on the evening of September
10th, Gen. Crook gave orders for the same picked
men (Capt. Mills in command), also the pack trains
(Thos. Moore in charge), and quartermaster Bubb, who
had been selected two days before, to proceedſ that eve-
ning on into the Hills for supplies. The General gave me
the official dispatches concerning the Slim Buttes fight,
and other matters, with strict orders to see that they got
through to the nearest telegraph office before any other
dispatches reached there of the fight. He wanted me to
be on the close watchout and see that no other dispatches
got in ahead of them, also giving me orders how to pro-
ceed in case I should need any help in forwarding the
dispatches. When I was ready to leave, the correspond-
ents of the different papers gave me their dispatches to
take through with the official dispatches. I took Capt.
Jack Crawford along with me, as he was acquainted in
the Hills, and would be of great service to the quar-
termaster in buying the supplies. I was to go on with
the dispatches, leaving the supply train at Whitewood
City. We left the command about nine o'clock at night.
COLONEL. T. H. STANTON.
BY PERMISSION OF JOHN F. FINERTY

A WONDERFUL RIDE. 313
Not being familiar with that part of the country,
Capt. Mills thought it would be best to travel by the com-
pass. That was my first and last experience with a com-
pass. The night was so dark that we could see no ob-
ject to travel by, and about twelve o’clock we crossed our
own trail. I told the Captain we had come back to our
own trail. Taking out his instrument he looked at it and
said that we were going right according to the compass,
and that the compass was right, and we were going in
the right direction. But I was satisfied we had crossed
our own trail. About an hour afterwards we came to our
own trail again. There was so much mineral there that
the compass pointed in a circle. Telling the Captain to
stop, I got off my horse and lit a match so I could make
sure it was our trail ; and finding that it was, I asked
him to let me look at his compass. Without even look-
ing at it, I took the thing and threw it as far as I could
throw it. He asked me what I was doing, and I said I
was throwing the compass away.
“We are lost without the compass,” he said.
“We were lost with it,” said I; “but I don’t think
we will be lost from this on.”
We then started in a southerly direction, as near as
I could judge, for the mouth of Whitewood, where it
empties into the Belle Fourche. I reached there just at
daylight, a short distance from Whitewood City, going
into camp there until about noon. Breaking camp, we
reached Whitewood City a little before sundown. After
we got into Whitewood and people found out that we
had been starved so long, they were very liberal and
314 A WONDERFUL RIDE.
hospitable toward us, and gave us everything they could.
Before going to bed that night I had told Capt. Jack
that I wanted him to be on hand at daylight to go with
the quartermaster to buy supplies. He was to remain
with the command while I went on. Telling me that
he was going to sleep with a friend that night, he said
he would be on hand at break of day. So in the morn-
ing I got up and didn't pay any attention to Capt. Jack.
I wanted to go over to Deadwood, so that I could for-
ward the official dispatches from there by courier. I
started over as soon as I got my breakfast. -
On reaching Deadwood and going to the livery stable,
I found the mule that Capt. Jack had been riding hitched
in one of the stalls. I asked the stableman where the
mule had come from and who had brought it there.
From the way he hesitated about telling me I thought
there was some mystery about it. Asking him what time
the mule had got there that morning, he told me it had
come in at five o’clock. I asked him where the man
who rode it was. He said that he had left there soon
after arriving in town ; that he had got a horse from
him and gone on to Custer City. That was the first I
knew that Capt. Jack had taken some of the private dis-
patches through, or at least I thought he had.
Having received strict orders from Gen. Crook to
have the official dispatches in as soon as, if not before,
other dispatches, and thinking I had all the dispatches of
the command, I now learned that Mr. Davenport, a re-
porter for the New York Herald, had only given me
duplicate dispatches, and had made a bargain with Capt.
A WONDERFUL RIDE. 315
Jack for a very large sum of money to take his (Daven-
port's) original dispatches through to the telegraph office
and reach there twelve hours before any other dispatches.
There was only one thing for me to do, and that
was to take the dispatches through myself. Thinking
that if anybody could overtake Capt. Jack I could do it
better than I could hire somebody to do the work, I
asked the livery stable man to let me have the best horse
he had, and going to an acquaintance of mine in Dead-
wood by the name of Mart Gibbens, and taking him to
the bank with me, I got five hundred dollars in money,
and, with the order I had from Gen. Crook, thought
that I had a pretty good chance to beat Capt. Jack Craw-
ford to Fort Laramie, as that was the closest telegraph
office, it being something like two hundred miles distant.
Knowing there were troops at two different places
along the route, I was sure that I could reach Capt.
Egan's company (stationed at the mouth of Red Canyon),
and that I could send some of his men on with the dis-
patches. Jumping in the saddle at 10:30 I started out,
liding the first horse about twenty-five miles, but at such
a gait he weakened on me, and I had to abandon him
about five hundred yards from a road ranch. Packing
my saddle to the ranch, I found three horses tied up in
front of the place. I took the best animal that was
standing there and put my saddle on it. The owner
of the ranch came out and asked me what I was doing.
I told him, asking him how much he wanted for the
horse, or if he would prefer to hire him, showing my
order from Gen. Crook. He told me to give him fifteen
316 A WONDERFUL RIDE.
dollars for the use and return of the horse. It took me
but a few minutes to saddle this horse up and get out
of there. I rode that horse until it dropped dead under
me just as I reached another ranch. I changed six times
on the road, killing three of the horses and using three
of them up so they never were any good afterwards.
Next to the last horse I got was almost played out,
and not seeing any ranch ahead of me, I didn’t know
what in the world I was going to do, for the horse I was
on could not travel much further. The first thing I saw
come around the point of the hill towards me was a man
on horseback. Just before he got to me I got off my
horse and pulled the saddle off, and as he came up I
caught his horse and told him I wanted it. He was a
big boned German, but I saw he had no gun with him,
so I was not afraid of his shooting me. He told me I
could not have the animal ; but I was unsaddling his
horse, and told him I had to have it, and he said: “You
can’t have him.” In the meantime I got his saddle un-
girthed. - -
I caught hold of the German and threw him off on
one side and his saddle on the other, and put my saddle on
his horse, he telling me all the time that I could not have
the horse ; that it belonged to him. After I got my
saddle and bridle on I asked him how much he wanted
for the horse, or, if he would rather hire it to me. He
told me he would neither hire nor sell it. Being in a
hurry to get away from him I told him I would go without
paying him if he did not tell me the price of the horse.
He saw there was no way to get around it ; that I was
A WONDERFUL RIDE.
3
1
7
going to take the horse anyway, so he told me I could
have him for eighty dollars. I gave him the money and
started off. After riding some distance I found that I had
made the best bargain I think I ever did make.
About five miles beyond the place of the last chang-
ing of horses I caught up with Capt. Jack. The animal
he was riding was completely winded. I asked him as
soon as I caught up with him if he had not had orders to
go with Lieut. Bubb to buy supplies. He made the reply
that he was taking some dispatches through for the New
York Herald. Telling him he was discharged from the
time he quit the command, I went on and left him, reach-
ing Custer City twenty minutes before 3 o'clock, making
the ride in four hours and ten minutes, the distance being
one hundred and one miles. I had to be taken off my
horse when I reached there, as I did not have the strength
to get off myself. Securing a good man to take the dis-
patches through to Capt. Egan at Red Canyon so they
would be sent on by troops from that point to Fort
Laramie, I wrote a note to Capt. Egan, telling him to
have them forwarded without any delay, also sending
Gen. Crook's order with the note. I wrote a note to
Gen. Crook, telling him what I had done and then went
to bed. I lay there for three days. I could not move
around very lively, and it took me that time to recover
from my trip.
When I got rested up somewhat from my one hun-
dred and one miles’ ride, I received a dispatch from Gen.
Crook, telling me I might go on to Red Cloud and lay off
until the fall campaign, but to keep my eyes open for
3.18 A WONDERFUL RIDE.
anything that I might see or hear while at the agency.
I learned afterwards that Capt. Jack Crawford reached
Fort Laramie three days after the official dispatches had
arrived. The New York Herald did not receive Daven-
port's dispatches for three days afterwards, and particulars
of the Slim Buttes fight were then known all over the
United States. Crawford was to have received several
thousand dollars if he had reached Fort Laramie twelve
hours ahead of any other dispatches. By getting there
two days late, I heard that he only received two hundred
dollars.
I stayed around the Red Cloud Agency till Gen.
Crook came in. Gen. Sheridan had come to Fort Laramie
and had sent for Crook to join him at that place. On
Gen. Crook's arrival at Robinson, I went over to Fort
Laramie with him. After the conference with Gen.
Sheridan he ordered me back to Robinson to find out all
I could about the Indians that had come in from the north ;
also the disposition of the Indians at Red Cloud Agency,
telling me to keep a strict lookout for them. Upon my
return to Fort Robinson, I went around through the
Indian camps and watched them as close as I could, and
kept track of the Indians that were coming in from the
north, trying to find out how the Indians felt in general
towards the northern (hostile) tribes. It was about the
hardest work I ever did. After the command reached
Robinson (the 1876 expedition), Gen. Merritt being in
command, Gen. Crook returned, and concluded to take
the horses, arms and ammunition away from the Indians.
After everything was ready the troops started out after
A WONDERFUL RIDE. 319
dark, marched down to the main camp (then located near
where Chadron is at present), surrounded it, took all the
ponies and arms away from the Indians and sent the
horses over to Fort Laramie to be disposed of, keeping
the confiscated arms at Robinson. After we had captured
the ponies I got into an ambulance with Gen. Crook and
started for Fort Laramie, as he made that his headquarters
during the winter campaign.

CHAPTER XLIII.
THE “ HEARTY LAUGH 'CURE.” *.
It was while enroute to Fort Laramie with Gen.
Crook that I was taken very sick. On reaching the Post
I was sent to the hospital. I was in the hospital about a
week, and the longer I stayed there the worse I seemed to
get. I finally became so weak I could not speak or talk.
The packers were in the habit of coming over to see me.
It was “headquarters ” for the pack train at Fort Laramie.
The only way I could communicate with anyone was by
writing. One evening I told the boys that if I stayed
there any longer it would kill me ; that I wanted to get
out of there, or wanted them to take me out and send me
over to Cheyenne. The stage left Cheyenne at 12 o'clock
at night, and four of the packers came over, took me out
of the hospital and put me on the stage. Two of them
went with me. Reaching Cheyenne about sun-down the
next day, I secured accommodations at the Inter-Ocean
hotel. The officers discovered next morning where I had
gone, and Gen. Crook telegraphed to the doctor at Fort
Russell to find out where I was stopping, and to give me
all the medical care he could. He also sent Lieut. Clark
there to see that I was taken care of. But I saw that
ſ.
/////////
ſº///////////
，
|-ºººººººººº
，
BRIGADIER-GENERAL WESLEY MERRITT.
BY PERMIssion of John F. FINERTY.

º
THE “HEARTY LAUGH CURE.” 321
I had not bettered my condition by the change of locality,
and thought it would be better for me to be traveling.
I recovered my health in a very curious way. I got
on the train at Cheyenne and was intending to go to
Ogden, Utah. Two packers and the doctors were with
me, and I was pretty sick. They had to carry me on
board the cars. I had not spoken a word since leaving
Fort Laramie. I could not talk ; had lost my voice.
On the train were a lot of school girls just coming home
from school. They had been to Denver, and were going
to Laramie City, I think. Seeing what a fuss the packers
made over me, bringing me into the cars, of course, their
curiosity was aroused, and they began asking questions
to find out who I was. At that time I was very popular.
You could not pick up a paper without seeing my name
in it. The conductor told them who I was. They wanted
to see me and talk with me ; wanted to be introduced to
me. I could not talk with them at all ; just had to lie
there and look at them. It was at their talk and the
questions they would ask that I was trying to laugh, I
suppose. It was very funny to me, not being used to
anything of that sort, the way they would ask questions;
and all at once I burst out laughing. Just as soon as
I got through that laugh, it cured me right up. I was
weak, but that was all. I did not feel a bit of the old
sickness—just weakness. As soon as I commenced laugh-
ing I could hear a ringing in my ears. It sounded as
if bells were ringing in them, and I found that I could
talk just as well as I ever could.
During my illness the expedition had been getting
322 THE “HEARTY LAUGH CURE.”
ready for the winter campaign against Dull Knife and
his Cheyenne warriors, and it worried Gen. Crook to
think that I was not able to go with the command. But
getting over my illness before I reached Laramie City,
in the way I did, I telegraphed the General from
Laramie City that I would overtake him at Fort Fetter.
man. Stopping at Laramie City until I got rested up and
strength enough to travel, I took the stage at Medicine
Bow, reaching Fetterman two days after the expedition
had started northward. º

BAPTISTE GAUNIER, (LITTLE BAT.)


CHAPTER XLIV.
IBATTLE OF THE RED FORR.
[It was in November, 1876, that reports came into
headquarters concerning the depredations of Dull Knife
and his band of Cheyenne warriors in the Powder river
country, and General Crook at once determined to give
the bold chief a brush that would quiet him. The column
thus formed was made up of troops from the Second,
Third, Fourth and Fifth Cavalry, Fourth and Ninth
Artillery, the Ninth and Twenty-third Infantry. Scouts
were sent out in advance of the column to locate the
Cheyenne village, and were successful. The trail they
discovered led up the Crazy Woman and on to the Red
Fork of Powder river, and General Mackenzie, with all
the cavalry in the command, took this route to the village
of Dull Knife on the night of November 23d, surprising
and destroying the hostile camp on the following morn-
ing. The weather was terribly cold. Dull Knife and his
people were reduced to the verge of starvation through
this battle, losing everything they had, even to the pony
herd, and it was not long (after an unsuccessful attempt
had been made by them to get assistance from Crazy
Horse) before Dull Knife surrendered at Red Cloud
324 BATTLE OF THE RED FORK.
Agency. The warriors of this band were afterwards trans-
ferred to the Indian Territory, whence they returned to
Red Cloud Agency, joined a revolt and suffered complete
annihilation at the hands of the Third Cavalry. The bat-
tle on the Red Fork of Powder river with Dull Knife
tresulted in the loss of Lieut. McKinney, a dashing and
brave young officer (who was killed while charging a num-
ber of the Indians who had taken shelter in a coulie),
and six soldiers, besides a large number wounded. The
Indian loss was never definitely ascertained, but conserva-
tive estimates placed it at not less than forty. Grouard's
account of this engagement will be found in the subse-
quent pages.—AUTHOR.]
After we had taken the horses and guns away from
the Indians at Red Cloud Agency, Gen. Crook had formed
the idea of enlisting a lot of Sioux Indians. So he took
a great many of them—some as soldiers and some as
scouts—for a three months’ term. It was a pretty dan-
gerous experiment, but it worked first rate. The two
Indians we took as prisoners in the Slim Buttes fight—
the ones we captured in that cave—were the first to en-
list. Billy Hunter was interpreter. It didn't take but a
-short time to enlist one hundred and fifty-nine. Col.
North joined the command with one hundred Pawnee
scouts. The Pawnees had enlisted as scouts for one year. .
'The horses taken away from the Sioux had all been sold
with the exception of one hundred, and that number had
been saved to give to these Pawnees, in addition to their
pay. The Government paid the Sioux for these horses
afterwards.
BATTLE OF THE RED FORK. 325
When I reached Fetterman from Laramie City I se-
cured my horse and overtook the command at Antelope
Springs. The General was glad to see me, too., Nothing
of note happened during our stop at the Springs, except
that a lot of Shoshone (Snake) Indians joined us at that
place. There were something over one hundred of them,
Swelling the number of our Indian scouts to about five
hundred. The General concluded to establish a canton-
ment at this place. Capt. Pollock of the Ninth Infantry
was put in command, and the main body pulled over to
Crazy woman. We had been in camp but a short time
when two Indians came up in sight of the camp. They
held up a flag of truce. I went out to meet them, and
they told me they had been to Lame Deer's camp ; that
he was camped down on the Rosebud, and that the Chey-
ennes were camped somewhere on the head of Powder
river. Indian scouts from the three tribes were detailed
to go in the direction of Powder river, for the purpose
of trying to locate the Cheyenne camp, the object in
picking a few from each tribe being to get one to watch
the other.
Everything being in readiness, we started out the
next morning from Antelope Springs, with Gen. Mackenzie
of the Fourth Cavalry in command. We marched up.
the Crazy Woman on to Beaver creek, where it comes
out of the mountains. Soon after we got into camp
there, one of our Indians rode up the hill on the divide
south of us and gave the signal that the Cheyenne camp.
had been discovered. On his reaching the command, we
found it to be one of the scouts we had sent out the
326 P.” TTL E OF THE RED FORK.
day before; that they had gone on to Powder River,
and followed the stream up to the Red Fork, there dis-
covering a fresh sign of Indians leading towards the head
or into the canyon of the Red Fork. After following
the creek about six miles they had discovered the camp
located at a point where the creek leaves the mountains,
in a little open valley. Leaving some of the Indian
scouts to watch the village, two of them returned to in-
form us that they had found it. The locality being about
eighteen miles from where the command was camped, I
thought it would be better to make a night march in
order to get there by daylight. Gen. Mackenzie gave
orders for everything to be in readiness to leave our
Crazy Woman camp at sundown.
We accordingly left just as the sun went down, and
went over onto the North Fork of Powder river. From
there we passed over to Red Fork, striking it about eight
miles below the village, then following up the creek to
within two miles of the village and making a halt there.
Specific orders were given to the different troops. Our
Indians were to drive off the horses. I do not know
what the exact orders were. I did not pay any attention
to them. After the orders had been given and we moved
up onto the village, we could hear the Indian songs and
tom-toms. The Cheyennes were dancing the scalp dance.
It seems they had killed a Crow Indian, and had been
dancing all night. When we came up in sight of the
village there were a large number of Indians between us
and the lodges, dancing. They were so busy they did
not notice us until we got within one hundred yards of
BATTLE OF THE RED FORK. 327
them. As soon as the Indians saw us the squaws set up
a horrible noise and ran. One of the Indian bucks ran
right towards us with a gun in his hand. He was prob-
ably watching the dance, and must have had his gun
lying beside him, as he was in fighting trim when he jumped
to his feet. He ran towards Gen. Mackenzie. He waited
until the General got up to within ten steps of him, and
then he fired, but he did not make a good shot. At the
same instant some of the orderlies who accompanied the
General (of whom there were a good many) fired on the
Indian, riddling him with bullets.
Just then the Indian scouts and the different troops
that were to charge into the village, gave a whoop and
yell and charged, driving the Indians to the other side
of the village. The Indians ran into the ravines and
hills. Of course, there were some hand to hand en-
counters that I did not see, but heard of afterwards; but
the Indians, recovering from their fright, got into a posi-
tion that it was hard to get them out of, and returned
our fire with deadly effect. As the fight became general,
one small party of Indians got into a gulch close to the
main part of the troops, so close that it was very hard
for them to miss us. They did a great deal of damage,
and General Mackenzie thought the best thing to be done
was to charge the Indians and drive them out of this
gulch, and he ordered Lieut. McKinney to charge on
them and drive them out, asking me if I would go with
the troopers and show them where the Indians were.
Riding up to within about two hundred yards of the gulch,
Lieut. McKinney gave the order to his men to charge
328 BATTLE OF THE RED FORK.
the gulch where the Indians were lodged. While the
charge was being made I was riding alongside of the
Lieutenant. The Indians waited until we got within
about ten yards of them, when they fired, their bullets
killing Lieut. McKinney, a sergeant and two men at the
first volley.
Seeing there was no chance to drive them out, I
wheeled my horse and got in behind some rocks on a
hill. Then I turned my horse loose and watched for a
chance to get a shot. I stopped there some time, and
tried to get a chance to kill some of them, but I could
not get a shot at them for a long while. The troops
were firing into the gulch, and the Indians soon got out
of there. We finally drove them all out. They didn’t
annoy us from that part of the field any more. I shot
Chief Little Wolf myself. He had been jumping up on
a small hill, and nearly every trooper in the command
was shooting at him. Every time he dropped to the
ground the soldiers supposed they had killed him. I
could see by the way he dropped that he had not been
shot; so telling Mr. Roache that I would kill him when
he rose up again, I awaited an opportunity. It came in
about ten minutes. As he jumped to his feet I took
quick aim and pulled the trigger. With the report of
my rifle Little Wolf fell to the ground and lay motion-
less, his limbs being spread out like a huge frog’s. It
was a dead certainty he had been shot, and I knew that
my bullet had done its work. After we had driven the
Indians from that part of the field, I rode over the ground
where Little Wolf had fallen, and found the Cheyenne
BATTLE OF THE RED FORK. 329
chief’s body lying where it fell. I did not examine it
to see where the ball had struck him, but I don’t imagine
he ever knew what hit him. At any rate, he never caused
the troops any more trouble.
After the killing of Little Wolf the Cheyennes drew
back into the hills, so that we were compelled to deploy
our force into a skirmish line in following them. They
had sent their squaws and children back from the scene
of the battle when the village was first jumped, and the
intense cold told awfully on the little children, no less
than a dozen babies being frozen to death in the arms
of their mothers. The Indians, by this time, had become
desperate, and while the skirmish line held its place in
front of the stronghold selected by the savages, two of
the latter, in war-paint and unarmed, came out in full
sight of the command and walked up and down within
twenty paces of the troops, waving buffalo heads high in
air and apparently tempting fate. Every man in the
skirmish line was shooting at these two savages, includ-
ing Big Bat and myself; but they seemed to bear charmed
lives and left the field unharmed. Their intention was
to draw the fire of the troops upon themselves until the
Cheyennes could have time to get the women and chil-
dren far enough up into the mountains to escape danger,
which they finally did.
During the fighting toward the close of the day, the
movements of our Sioux Scouts were watched very closely,
as it was believed by a great many that they would not
stay with the troops when the emergency of battle arose.
But no drilled soldiers ever stood the test better. In
330 BATTLE OF THE RED FORK.
fact, some of the hardest fighting that was done these
same Sioux scouts did, and the wisdom of Gen. Crook in
enlisting them was established beyond question.
When it was at last determined that the troops could
not dislodge the Indians, Gen. Mackenzie sent for me
and asked me to go back to the wagon train on Crazy
Woman and inform Gen. Crook of the situation and urge
him to bring up the infantry at once. So taking one of
the Sioux scouts with me, I started for Crazy Woman,
reaching there about 2 o’clock in the morning. I had
gone from the battlefield directly across country, and
when I arrived at Crook’s camp I found that he had
left with the infantry the night before, following the trail
previously taken by Gen. Mackenzie. As I had had no
sleep for over fifty hours I turned in, and the next day
the command arrived with the killed and wounded. The
result of the battle was the death of Lieut. McKinney,
as dashing and brave a young officer as there was in the
service ; the killing of six soldiers and the wounding of
twenty-seven others, two of whom were Indian scouts.
There was no way of finding out how many of the In-
dians had been killed, although something like thirty dead
bodies fell into our hands. We killed a large number
of the Indian ponies and drove over seven hundred others
from the village after capturing it.
[In his book, “On the Border with Crook,” Capt.
John G. Bourke, speaking of the dismay and dissatisfac-
tion among the Cheyennes, caused by the , appearance of
the Sioux scouts in the Crook command during this battle,
says the Cheyennes told the Sioux to “Go home—you
BATTLE OF THE RED FORK. 331
have no business here; we can whip the white soldiers
alone, but can’t fight you, too.” Addressing themselves
to the soldiers, the warriors of Dull Knife cried, accord-
ing to the authority given above, “You have killed and
hurt a heap of our people, and you may as well stay
now and kill the rest of us.” It was undoubtedly the
action of Gen. Crook in enlisting the Sioux as scouts
that ultimately led the Cheyennes to enter the govern-
ment service in the same capacity. After Dull Knife’s
camp had been wiped out by Gen. Mackenzie, that noted
chief went to Crazy Horse for succor and assistance,
believing that Crazy Horse detested those of the Sioux
who had renounced savagery as heartily as he (Dull
Knife) did ; but Crazy Horse received the Cheyenne chief’s
advances in the coldest manner, refusing to have anything
to do with him.
The Cheyennes had a very high opinion of Crazy
Horse, knowing that he was an uncompromising foe of
the whites, and his treatment of Dull Knife (who had
gone to him in the hour of dire disaster—when his peo-
ple were on the verge of starvation and were seeking an
asylum of safety) undoubtedly led to the ill-feeling which
arose between the Cheyenne and Sioux nations, and
prompted many of the members of the former tribe to
become government scouts that they might the better re-
venge themselves upon Crazy Horse when the soldiers
directed their maneuvers against that chief and his
people.
The opportunity came soon enough, and although
‘Crazy Horse’s followers gave up their arms and submit-
332 PATTLE OF THE RED FORK.
ted tamely to the inevitable—accepted their lot as “agency
Indians”—the fires of hatred which burned within the
bosom of Crazy Horse were unquenchable, and he sought
and found death (never once uttering a complaint or
groan) in a battle where he stood alone and single-handed
against an entire garrison. Grouard says that a great
many articles easily identified as belonging to the ill-fated
Custer command were found in the lodges of Dull Knife's
village, thereby proving that the Cheyennes were allied
with the Sioux in the memorable battle on the Little Big
Horn on that bright June morning when the gallant
Colonel of the Seventh and five of his heroic troop met
death. —AUTHOR.]
After burying the dead, the command went to Powder
river, at which place two scouts who had been sent
out from the Red Cloud agency three months previous to
locate, if possible, the Indian villages, came in and re-
ported that Lame Deer and war party were on their way
in to the Little Powder river from the Belle Fourche,
and Gen. Crook at Once started for that section to head
them off.
The snow was very deep and the cold intense. The
command, failing to find Lame Deer and his people, re-
turned to Fort Fetterman, and so closed the winter cam-
paign.
COLONEL GEORGE M. RAND ALL.
BY PERMission OF JOHN F. FINERTY.


CHAPTER XLV.
CALIFORNIA. J.O.E.
In the fall of 1876, after the battle of Slim Buttes,
I received orders from Gen. Crook to hire some good
man to drive a band of horses from Fort Laramie over
to the northern part of the Black Hills. The animals
had been purchased by the government and were to be
sent to the Fifth Cavalry, then stationed in Dakota.
California Joe was recommended to me as just the man
I wanted. He was at Fort Laramie at that particular
time, so I went to Joe and asked him if he would under-
take the journey, and he said that he would. I told him
to be ready to start the following morning. He knew
the country thoroughly, and at the time designated started
out with the horses and escort. Arriving at his des.
tination he made arrangements to remain with the Fifth
Cavalry until its return to the Red Cloud Agency. After
reaching the latter place he was still retained, as he was
found to be a good man, and it was thought plenty of
work could be found to keep him busy.
Before I met him he had had some trouble with a
man named Thomas Newcomb, but I knew nothing about
it when I hired him. Sometime previous to the killing
334 CALIFORNIA JOE,
of Joe, old man Reshaw, father of Louie Reshaw, had
been murdered on the Running Water. The day follow-
ing the old man's murder, California Joe happened to go
into Fort Robinson, and Newcomb had him arrested,
charging him with old man Reshaw's murder. When
Joe’s preliminary examination came off, Newcomb swore
that old man Reshaw had been killed by Joe ; but he
had no evidence to substantiate the statement. Nobody
who knew Joe believed a word of it, and the actions of
Newcomb made Joe awful mad ; and I don’t doubt but
what he may have threatened to get even with his accuser.
I don’t believe, however, that Joe ever threatened to kill
Newcomb, and never found a man who did believe it.
Newcomb claimed, nevertheless, that he was constantly in
fear that Joe would kill him. When Joe was employed
at Red Cloud, Newcomb lived near there, spending most
of his time with the Indians. One morning as Joe was
coming from breakfast Newcomb hid behind the building
where the former was messing, and just as the unsus-
pecting scout passed the corner of the building, Newcomb
leveled a double-barreled shotgun at him and pulled the
trigger. The entire contents of the gun entered Joe's
body, killing him instantly. Newcomb escaped both trial
and punishment for this crime. I believed at the time,
and still think, this was as cold-blooded a murder as I
ever heard of, and if I had been at Robinson when it
was committed, I should have exerted every effort to have
had Newcomb punished for the crime.
Joe was born in California, and was justly celebrated
as a scout, having been with General Custer as Chief of
CALIFORNIA. J.O.E. 335.
(Scouts for some time. Custer says, when he first knew
him (in 1868), “he was a man about forty years of age,
Some six feet in height, and possessed a well proportioned
frame. His head was covered with a luxuriant crop of
hair, almost jet black, strongly inclined to curl, and so
long as to fall carelessly over his shoulders. His face, at
least so much of it as was not concealed by the long,
waving, brown beard and moustache, was full of intelli-
gence and pleasant to look upon. His eye was handsome,
black and lustrous, with an expression of kindness and
mildness combined. On his head was generally to be
seen, whether awake or asleep, a huge sombrero, or black
slouch hat. A soldier's overcoat, with a large circular
cape, a pair of trousers, with the legs tucked in the top
of his long boots, usually constituted the make-up of the
man whom I selected as my chief Scout. He was known
by the euphonious title of California Joe. No other
name seemed ever to have been given him, and no other
name appeared to be necessary.”
Grouard states that Newcomb was a first-class bluffer,
and was so anxious to acquire a reputation as a bad man
that he never missed an opportunity of whipping a “kid’”
or doing up some poor, drunken fellow. When the
spring campaign of 1876 opened, Newcomb went along
with the troops, but not as a soldier. At old Fort Reno,
on the night when the command was fired into by some
marauding hostiles, Newcomb was regaling the men with
a story of how he once jumped upon the back of a Texas
buffalo and rode it several miles, spurring and quirting the
beast unmercifully. Just as he got to the end of the
336 CALIFORNIA. J.O.E.
story and was posing as one of the bravest of all brave
men, the Indians fired into the tent where he had been
entertaining the boys, and Newcomb became the scarcest
commodity in camp. From that day on the soldiers
called him “Texas Buffalo.”
California Joe's body was laid to rest at Red Cloud
Agency. His untimely end was universally regretted, for
he was as popular as he was brave.
FRANK GROUARD, AT 30.
3 Nº
*, cº-

CHAPTER XLVI.
SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE.
It was in the spring of '77 that Crazy Horse sent
an Indian courier in from the Ogallala village, between
Tongue and Powder rivers, with a message that he would
allow his people to surrender if Lone Star (Gen. Crook)
would let him come in peace. Lieut. William P. Clarke,
who had the Indians in charge at Red Cloud Agency,
sent word to Crazy Horse that if he would come in and
give up his ponies and arms, he and his people would
not be harmed in any way, but that there must be a
clear understanding that he was to give up his horses
and guns, which shortly afterwards he did, giving them
all up without any trouble.
Shortly after his surrender, Crazy Horse, with his
principal men, were enlisted as scouts, so that we had a
great time in drilling them ; but it soon caused dissatis-
faction amongst them to such an extent that I thought
it best to keep a close watch over them. At times I
went amongst them dressed up as an Indian, so that I
could keep a close watch on all their movements. Some-
times I would dress as an Indian and attend their coun-
cils. Oft' times I would have an Indian (in fact, I had
338 SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE.
an Indian and a squaw,) bring me all the news they
could get from the camp. I heard of their plot to kill
Lieut. Clarke and myself and afterwards massacre the
people at the Post. Thinking that the report was
exaggerated, I set about finding when the next Indian
council would take place. I thought it would be best to
attend it myself.
It was a very secret meeting, so the Indians sup-
posed. It was held about midnight. Dressing myself up
as an Indian I got on my horse bareback and went down
amongst them, their camp being situated on the site
where Chadron, Nebraska, now stands, thirty miles below
Robinson. If I had made use of a saddle, they would
have soon found out who I was. Tying my horse in
front of one of the lodges, I went right through the
village looking for the lodge where the meeting was to
be held. After traveling through the camp for some time
I found the tepi where they were to meet. Standing at
the door watching the Indians go into the lodge, I drew
the blanket over my head so that I could not be recog-
nized by any of them, unless they should pull the blanket
off of me; but they very seldom did anything like that.
I took a back seat when the council met and heard
everything that was said ; how Crazy Horse was to take
a few of his best warriors and go up to the office of
Lieut. Clarke and ask to have a friendly council with
him, as they wanted to talk matters of the tribe over
with him. Each one of these Indians was to have his
gun concealed under his blanket, and at the given signal,
while Crazy Horse was making a speech, he (Crazy Horse)
surrºMDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE. 339
was to shoot Lieut. Clarke, and the Indians were to kill
all the whites in the room, myself included. They were
to give secret warning to all the other Indians that
wanted to join them, so that they would be ready to
massacre all the whites at the Post as soon as the shoot-
ing began. After listening for some time and finding
out all I cared to know, I took the first opportunity that
presented itself and departed.
Reaching my house before daylight, I turned my
horse out and went to bed, knowing that these Indians
would be at my place about 9 o'clock. I knew how
superstitious they were, and I thought the best thing I
could do would be to work on their superstition, so I
remained in bed until they came up, which was about 9
o'clock in the morning. They knocked at the door of
my house, and the woman who was cooking for me came
and told me the Indians wanted to see me. I told her
to send them in, but to tell them I was sound asleep.
They came stamping into my room. I heard them, but
pretended to be asleep, and they thought I was asleep.
As soon as they got in they began to talk, telling me to
get up, as it was high sun. As soon as they squat down
on the floor, I sat up and began to rub my eyes, as
anyone would do who had been asleep, and commenced
to tell them what I had dreamed, and how it had scared
me, especially when I woke up and saw them in my room.
They asked me what I dreamed. It was only a
dream, I said, but they wanted to know what it was, so
I said I would tell them. I went on to describe their
plot; the killing of Clarke and myself and the massacre
340 SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE.
of the whites at the Post afterwards. I described every-
thing just as I had heard it the night before at the meet-
ing, and then told them it was only a dream. I could
see how their faces changed. They did not know what
to make of it; they never ate the breakfast prepared for
them, and it was the only time they ever did miss a meal
with me. They said they had pressing business that
morning and departed. I afterwards informed Lieut.
Clarke of the plot, so he could be on the outlook if they
tried to make this break. I thought what I had told
them would perhaps stop them.
On the day set for the conference with Clarke at the
Post, we were ready to give Crazy Horse and his men as
warm a reception as they would want. About nine o'clock
in the morning the Ogallala chief, accompanied by twenty
young bucks, came into the office in the headquarters
building. They all wore their blankets and had their
weapons concealed beneath them. They were not aware
that the room adjoining the office was full of armed sol-
diers, ready at a moment’s notice to pounce upon them,
nor that mounted men had been stationed all around the
garrison. I think, however, that Crazy Horse suspected
we had got an inkling of his intentions, for he could not
help but notice that we had a large number of Indian
scouts, armed to the teeth, in the office when he came in.
Some of the young men with Crazy Horse did con-
siderable talking to Lieut. Clarke, and they were (accord-
ing to the plot) to be followed by Crazy Horse ; but be-
fore the latter could begin his speech, which was to end
in the murder of the Lieutenant and myself, a young
SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE. 341
chief named Three Bear from the Cut-Off tribe inter-
fered. He was enlisted as a scout and was a warm friend
of Clarke's. He undoubtedly knew of the plot, as he
jumped up and told Crazy Horse if he wanted to kill
anybody to kill him, as he would not be permitted to kill
his (Three Bear's) friend; that not one of the conspirators
would get out of the building alive if they raised any
trouble ; that the place was full of armed soldiers, ready
to do their share of the killing. i.
Considerable confusion followed the speech of Three
Bear, and Crazy Horse did not seem to know what to
do. I do not think Crazy Horse was afraid. He did
not care for himself, but hesitated about getting his com-
panions into trouble ; for Crazy Horse was the bravest
man I ever knew or met — white, red or black. The
meeting broke up immediately after this, and the Indians
went back to their camp.
When Gen. Crook heard of the plot to assassinate
the whites, he secretly ordered two more regiments into
the Post, and at once gave orders for the arrest of
Crazy Horse and the disarming of the Indians in his
village. On the morning of the 4th of September eight
companies with about four hundred Indian scouts started
down toward Crazy Horse's village, situated on the north
side of White Earth creek, six miles east of the agency,
so as to surround it by daylight; but as the troops were
reaching the village I found Crazy Horse had flown.
Hearing of the intended arrest of himself, he had started
out on horseback for the Spotted Tail agency. As soon
as we discovered that he had gone, Three Bear, accom-
342 SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CIRAZY HORSE.
panied by some of the Indian scouts, was sent after him
with orders to bring him back. If he would not come
peaceably they were to bring him back by force. As
soon as Crazy Horse reached Spotted Tail agency he
gave himself up to Capt. Jesse M. Lee of the Ninth In-
fantry, who was acting Indian agent there. The Captain
assured him, if he would go back peaceably, that he would
not be put in the guard house, so that he came back
with the full understanding that he would be treated
Square.
Starting back for Robinson on the morning of the
5th, Crazy Horse riding in the ambulance and the Indian
Scouts acting as an escort, he reached Robinson about
four o'clock in the afternoon. Before Capt. Lee had time
to explain to the commanding officer about the promises
he had made to Crazy Horse, Lieutenant Clarke had seen
the ambulance arrive at the Post, and ordered it driven
in front of the guard house, and had likewise given
orders for Crazy Horse to be locked up without knowing
anything about the promise of Captain Lee to the chief.
As soon as I found out that he had given these orders
for Crazy Horse to be put into the guard house, I knew
there would be trouble, as Crazy Horse would not sub-
mit to go in peaceably ; that he would make a fight for
it. I think there was a big misunderstanding there by
Lieut. Clarke' not going to see the commanding officer
before he gave these orders; also in not consulting Capt.
Lee about it.
When I learned what orders had been given by
Lieut. Clarke I got on my horse and reached the guard
SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE. 343
house just as Crazy Horse had stepped out of the ambu-
lance. By that time there were two or three hundred
Indians congregated about the guard house, a great many
of them friends of Crazy Horse. Crazy Horse's arms
had not been taken from him ; that is, he had his six-
shooter and knives which he always carried. ‘ I could
tell by the way he walked into the guard house that he
did not know that he was to be placed in confinement.
After he had got inside the building, passed through the
second door and the guard opened a cell for him, he
realized what was up. Then it was he drew both his
knives and started for the outside. An Indian by the
name of Little Big Man was standing in the doorway
as Crazy Horse rushed out. Little Big Man grasped
both of Crazy Horse's wrists as the chief reached the
door, but the now furious captive jerked one of his hands
loose and dealt Little Big Man two terrible thrusts, both
wounds being made in the latter's arm.
Crazy Horse came through the outside door as the
sentinel was passing. I do not think that Crazy Horse
intended to attack the sentinel, but rather to kill one or
more of the Indians who were standing in front of the
guard house, for he made a lunge at One of them. I
did not see the death thrust given Crazy Horse, as it was
given from behind the captive, and I do not know whether
it was dealt by the sentinel with his bayonet, or by one
of the officers with a sword. There was a great deal of
confusion at the time. I could plainly hear the cartridges
being thrown into the guns held in the hands of the
Indians who stood about, and the click of gun hammers.
344 SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE.
It looked very much as if we were about to have a general
fight. The next instant I saw Crazy Horse turn com-
pletely around on his left foot and fall over backwards.
I knew he had been stabbed, but could not see who did it.
I immediately rode over to General Bradley’s quar-
ters and reported the killing of Crazy Horse to that officer,
telling him it were better to get the troops in quarters
at once, as a big row seemed inevitable. As a matter
of fact, none of the soldiers standing around had any
firearms with them and were completely at the mercy of
the Indians in case of an outbreak — half the garrison
could have been killed in a twinkling had the Indians
broken loose. But the counsel of the older heads among
the redmen kept the young bucks quiet and averted a
IOla SS8. Cl’e.
A doctor was sent for and Crazy Horse was made as
comfortable as possible. I asked the man of medicine
if there was any chance for the chief to live, and he said
there was not ; that one of his kidneys had been pierced ;
that there was no chance of saving him. Just then
Crazy Horse's father came up ; everybody else had left
him, and shortly afterwards the Indians all dispersed and
went back to the village, where most of them camped.
Crazy Horse died at 8 o’clock that evening.
Around the house where I was staying some five or
six hundred Indians had gone into camp. They were
camped so thick around my place I could hardly get out.
The commanding officer sent for me right after dark,
telling me I had better go down and stay amongst the
Indians, and try and find out what they thought of the
ſº º caº vº v v E · • F tº e º ſº se o sae nº i ve rº .
C Rookºs o LD CAMPING GROUND–PRESENT SITE OF SHERIDAN, WYOMING-

SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE. 345
Crazy Horse affair, and if there would be any outbreak,
and for me to report the first thing I heard of their inten-
tions. I went down to the village. I visited the lodges,
first one and then another. The whole camp was talking
about the killing of Crazy Horse, but I heard nothing
which led me to suppose that there would be any trouble.
Everything was very quiet around the village pretty much
all the time I was there. I think the Indians were a little
bit scared themselves. Along about 3 o'clock in the
morning I thought all the trouble was over, so I went
to bed. -
I do not know how long I had been asleep, when
I was awakened by a rapid discharge of firearms. My
first thought was that the troops had jumped the village ;
but as soon as I got out of doors I heard some of the
Indians laughing and talking, and found out there was
an eclipse of the moon, and the entire village was shooting
at the inconstant old girl, trying to “bring her back to
life.” As soon as I found out what the firing was about,
I reported the matter to the commanding officer.
The killing of Crazy Horse ended most all of the
trouble we had with these particulars Indians — the
Sioux and Cheyennes, and a great many enlisted after
that. There was no more trouble until '79. That was
with the Sioux. It was in the fall of ’77 that the Indians
were moved from Red Cloud to the Missouri river.
The Nez Perces trouble in 1877 was followed two years
later by the Miles’ campaign against Sitting Bull,
and no further uprisings occured until the South Dakota.
outbreak in 1890.
346 SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE.
[ Captain Bourke, who was at the Red Cloud Agency
when Crazy Horse surrendered, describes his meeting with
the renowned Sioux warrior in his work “On the Border
with Crook.” He states that Crazy Horse took his first
supper at the agency with Grouard, and the latter invited
the Captain to go over to the former's tepi with him and
meet the Sioux Chief. He states that as they appoached
the tepi Crazy Horse remained seated on the ground, but
that when Grouard spoke to him he “looked up, arose
and gave me a hearty grasp of his hand.” The Captain
remembers the chief “as a man who looked quite young,
not over thirty years old, five feet eight inches high,
lithe and sinewy, with a scar in the face. The expression
of his face was one of quiet dignity, but morose, dogged,
tenacious and melancholy. He behaved with stolidity,
like a man who realized he had to give in to Fate, but
would do so as sullenly as possible. While talking to
Frank, his countenance lit up with genuine pleasure, but
to all others he was, at least in the first days of his
coming upon the reservation, gloomy and reserved. I
never heard an Indian,” concludes Captain Bourke, “men-
tion his name save in terms of respect.”
For generation after generation the name of Crazy
Horse had been handed down among the Sioux from
father to son. This particular family had always been
held in high esteem by the redmen. The archives of the
Sioux nation were entrusted to and preserved by it, and
it was from the old father of Crazy Horse that Grouard
secured the history (preserved on buckskin) of the Sioux
nation. This history covered a period of over eight hun-
SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE. 347
dred years, and would have proved of incalculable value
to future historians could it have been preserved. Grou-
ard kept these precious documents after he regained his
freedom. When first stationed at Fort McKinney the
house in which he lived was destroyed by fire, and all its
contents, except a dog and revolver, went up in smoke,
these documents with the rest. There was also destroyed
at this time, the scalp cape of Sitting Bull—a ghastly
relic of huge dimensions made from the scalps of white
victims who had fallen by the hand of that crafty old
war chief.
Crazy Horse, like the other members of his family,
was remarkably white for an Indian, and many who met
him imagined he was not a full-blooded Sioux. His hair,
which was a sandy brown, was unlike any other man's in
the tribe. Grouard says the Ogallala chief was a fine-
looking savage in 1873, when he first met him. A trifle
less than six feet tall, he was straight as an arrow. He
was naturally spare, and could stand any amount of hard-
ship. He was proud of his people and their history, and,
like Sitting Bull, was opposed to any and all intercourse
with the whites.
Grouard says Crazy Horse was the bravest man he
eyer met. Reserved at all times, his counsel was greatly
sought after, and even in the most solemn deliberations
of the Ogallalas he spoke only through some chosen
friend. In leadership he outranked every man in the
tribe. In reality, he was an hereditary chief. His bat-
tles with the whites proved his prowess, and the honors
which he brushed aside in Savagery were thrust upon him
348 SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE.
by the “advance guard of civilization.” He possessed
nothing but his native intelligence and cunning. He gave
no thought to the acquisition of wealth, as that bauble is
understood by the savage. He was a warrior at all times
and in all places, and he left the counting of his coups
to those who were as familiar with them as himself.
Quick to act, he was first in battle and shrank from IłO.
danger. It was to this man's tepi that Grouard went and
found shelter and protection when Sitting Bull sought to
destroy him, and the regard the two men had for each
other transcended the affection of brothers. Crazy Horse
was the Napoleon among the Sioux, and the death-knell
of savagery was sounded in his murder.
Grouard tells many interesting anecdotes concerning
Crazy Horse. From his boyhood he was greatly attached
to Lone Bear and Hump or the Spotted War Bonnet.
As children the three were always together ; in youth
they were firm friends; in manhood they were insepara-
ble ; in battle they fought side by side. Lone Bear was
always the unfortunate one of the trio. He was never
known to enter a battle but what he received a wound.
At the Phil Kearney massacre he was so desperately
wounded that he could not crawl from the place where
he lay, and through the awful storm and bitter cold
weather which succeeded the battle, Lone Bear was at the
mercy of the elements. When found by his trusty com-
panions, he was given all the care they could shower upon
him ; but the poor savage was beyond human aid, for
beside his wounds, his limbs and body were frozen terri-
bly. He died in the arms of Crazy Horse while IIump
SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE. 349
stood by, weeping. Thus the trinity of savage love was
shattered, and Lone Bear was laid away to rest. That
was in 1866.
During the year 1873 twelve Ogallala Sioux, among
whom were Crazy Horse and Hump, to revenge them-
selves upon the Shoshones for some injury inflicted, went
to the camp of the latter on the Wind River reservation,
and in the darkness fired into a tepi, killing several of
Chief Washakie's braves. A running battle resulted, the
Sioux making a determined stand and desperate fight on
Badwater creek, many miles from the scene of the res-
ervation killing. Here Hump was killed, and the Sioux
said that Crazy Horse was beside himself with grief
and rage. He fought like an enraged bear, rescuing the
body of his friend and placing it on the back of his
own horse while he fought. He gave the bridle rein
to one of his own tribe and sent him toward the Ogallala
village with Hump’s body, while he, in desperation, ran
in among the pursuing Shoshones, and with his quirt,
put them to flight. From that very hour, said his nearest
friends, Crazy Horse sought death.
He had a superstitious belief – an abiding faith —
that he would never be killed by a bullet, and this
encouraged him in all his conflicts, whether with oppos-
ing tribes or the whites. He had no desire to live, his
two friends having passed to the Great Beyond ; and
he wooed death at all times. He avowed this on many
occasions to his intimate friends.
Grouard relates a touching instance of the Ogallala
chief’s parental affection. Crazy Horse had but one child
350 SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE.
—a little girl about four years of age—whom, in his
savage way, he idolized. While the village was located
between the Little Big Horn and the Rosebud, in 1873,
the chief went out with a war party against the Crows.
In his absence the little girl was taken sick and died.
The camp was moved from the valley of the Little Big
Horn toward the Little Missouri on Tongue river be-
fore the Ogallala warriors returned. When Crazy Horse
learned of the death of his child his grief, Grouard says,
was pathetic. The child’s body was buried seventy miles
from the place where the Sioux camp was then located,
and large parties of warring Crows infested the inter-
vening country. But Crazy Horse had determined to
visit the grave of his loved little girl, and he asked
Grouard to accompany him. It took them two days to
reach the place of sepulchre. Crazy Horse asked Grouard
to select a site for a camp while he visited the grave
of his child. He went alone to the raised bier (or plat.
form on which the body had been placed), crawled up
beside the little girl’s remains, and there stayed for
three days and nights mourning for the departed one.
On the morning of the fourth day, Grouard says, Crazy
Horse woke him at sunrise and told him he was ready
to depart. Not a mouthful of food or drop of water
had passed that father’s lips during those three awful
days and nights of mourning, and he rode back to his
people and desolate tepi with a heavy heart but stolid
face. None of the tribe knew where he had been, and
he never whispered the object of his errand.
More than a month before his tragic end, he told
GRAVE OF CRAZY HORSE’S DAUGHTER.
S^2
3,cº

SURRENDER AND DEATH OF CRAZY HORSE. 851
Grouard he was looking for death, and believed it
would soon come to him. He had a dream, and the
vision to him was pregnant with promise of eternal
quietude. He said he thought he stood upon some lofty
height and saw a mighty eagle soaring far above him.
He watched it as it floated in the quiet sky, and pres-
ently it seemed to fold its wings and fall. The eagle's
body anchored at his feet, and when he looked upon it,
lo! it was himself. An arrow had pierced its body, and
its life was gone. Only a little month, and the mighty
chief had found the peace his soul had thirsted for so
long. A hasty thrust with a sword or bayonet — it
makes no difference, now, which — and Crazy Horse was
no more. In the hour when death found him, he lay
with his head pillowed upon his father's breast, lost to
all thought of fear in his approaching dissolution and
happy in the contemplation that the spirits of those he
loved were awaiting his coming to the far-off Happy Land.
What, may I ask, is more pathetic or better suited
to this closing scene, than the words of Touch-the-Cloud,
chief of the Sans Arcs, who, bending over the body of
Crazy Horse and laying his hand upon the chieftain's
breast as his warrior spirit took its flight, said:
“It is well. He has looked for death and it
has come.”—AUTHOR ]
CHAPTER XLVII.
iºsº-º
AFTER HORSE THIEVES AND HOLDUPS.
The fall of 1876 and the three years following were
noteworthy on account of the wholesale thieving that was
going on in the territories. It just seemed as if all the
thieves in the universe had been turned loose in Ne-
braska, Wyoming, Oregon, Idaho, Montana and Dakota.
They had no regard for property or human life, and were,
in my opinion, infinitely worse than the Indians ever were.
Among the more notorious characters who infested the
great west in the years referred to were the James boys
—Jesse and Frank — and their gang; Billy the Kid,
Cully, Bill Zimmerman, Tom Reece, Phoenix, Odell, Jerry
Overholt, Madison, Dutch Henry, Black Hank, Persimmon
Bill, Jack Campbell, Herman Leslie, Bill Evans, Teton
Jackson, McGloskey and Big Nosed George.
These men were leaders and had a following that
was truly surprising. They stole from the settlers, they
robbed the passengers on stages, they rifled the mail
bags and money chests on overland routes, held up trains
on the Union Pacific, looted stores, run off Indian ponies,
and, very often, shot or hanged their victims. They kept
the entire country in an uproar, and terrorized the settlers
SPOTTED TAIL.

AFTER HORSE THIEVES AND HOLDUPS. 353
to such an extent that one-half the robberies committed
by them were never made known. They had their spies
and agents at all points, even at the government posts
and agencies, and at last the United States authorities
were compelled to call into requisition the troops to sup-
press them.
During the year 1877 my orders kept me swinging
like a pendulum between the Red Cloud and Spotted
Tail Agencies, and Forts Laramie, Robinson, Fetterman,
Reno (McKinney) and Sheridan, now being on the trail
of some horse-stealing gang, and then trying to locate a
holdup outfit.
On one occasion in 1877 the thieves stole about one
hundred ponies from the Indians at Spotted Tail Agency.
From the number of horses taken I thought the thieves
were in such force that I took a detachment (M. troop
of the Third Cavalry) from the Spotted Tail Agency and
followed them. We struck the tracks of the ponies lead-
ing towards the Black Hills. They were very easy to
follow, being so many of them. We gained on them
very fast, and overtook them the next day on the Chey-
enne river, right where Edgemont, S. D., stands at the
present time. When I first discovered the thieves they
were cooking their dinner. They had turned the ponies
out across the creek, with the exception of one or two.
These they kept in the vicinity of the fire where they
were preparing their meal, Getting as close to them as
I could without being seen and riding in between them
and the ponies, we captured the herd without any trouble.
But while I was looking after the ponies three of
354 AFTER HORSE THIEVES 4 ND HOLD UPS.
my men had ridden up to where the horse thieves were.
The first thing I heard were three or four shots fired,
and two of the soldiers came riding back to me halloo-
ing that one of my men was shot and killed. There
were four of the horse thieves, and before I could reach
the place where the shooting occurred, two of them had
jumped on their ponies and started toward the Hills.
The other two, as soon as they saw me riding toward
them, commenced to fire at me. That made me so hot
that I did not ask them to surrender, but commenced to
fire at them, killing one and capturing the other without
any trouble. They had got me so angry I did not stop
to think. I knew we did not want to be bothered with
them ; so I put the captured thief on his horse, tied one
end of a rope to the limb of a tree, the other end around
his neck, and drove the horse out from under him. Did
not even stop to look back, but gathered up the ponies
and started for the agency. I heard four or five days
afterward of a man hanging to a tree, and suppose he
was the man I had swung up ; but he gave me good
cause to do what I did. If he had not killed one of
the men who were with me I should have turned him
loose, and his partner would never have been shot if he
had not helped to kill one of my men.
It is hard to tell how many thieves I did capture
that year, but there were a great many. * When I
started after them I most generally got them. It Was
in 1877 that the road agents began to hold up the Black
Hills stage, and I was sent out from Fort Laramie to
assist in capturing some “gentlemen of the road.” It
AFTER HORSE THIEVES AND HOLD UPS. 355
was near Fort Laramie in the fall of 1876, for the
second time in my life, I came in contact with the noted
Bill Bevins. He had left Cheyenne and made his way
over to Running Water. On his way he had stolen a
number of horses some time during the night. I started
out after the thieves, overtaking them on Running Water.
I took the stolen horses away from them, but while doing
so Bevins had recognized me and told me he would drop
the horses if I would hold off, which I was willing to do
on account of his being so friendly to me in my boyhood
when I met him at Helena years before. So, taking the
horses, I turned them back to the owners, saying that I
could not catch the horse thieves ; that they had dropped
the horses when they saw me coming and had made off
to the hills.
Two days afterward the stage was held up at the
government farm on the Platte river. I was sent out to
trace the robbers up, which I did, catching four of them
before sun-down. From that on until the latter part of
1877, I was kept very busy after these road agents, and
I caught a good many of them, but as I never kept a
record I cannot give their names or the number. Some
of them were turned loose, and some were sent to the
penitentiary. I followed two of these gentlemen on
horseback from Bull's Bend, on the Platte, to, Green
River, a trifle over three hundred miles, catching them
just as they were sitting down to breakfast. I was at
the breaking up of these gangs, and I did everything
in my power to help capture all the horse thieves that
were in the northern country. Kept me busy until I
356 AFTFR HORSE THIEVES AND HOLD UPS.
CŞ
was ordered to Fort Reno in December, 1877 ; but I
remained at Red Cloud agency until the Indians were
moved from there over to the Missouri river. Right
after the removal of the Indians I started for Fort Mc-
Kinney (old Fort Reno, on the Powder river), reaching
there about the first of January, 1878. I had not been
there but a short time before I found there was a big
gang of horse thieves in that locality. They had a reg-
ular trail running through Wyoming, from Oregon to
Minnesota. They were stationed at points all along the
line, so it made it hard to catch them, as there was
always a different party stealing horses along the road.
These parties had stolen some horses from the beef
contractor at the Post, and I was informed of it. The
next morning in going up to where they had stolen the
horses, I found their tracks and followed them up. The
tracks led toward the Black Hills. Thinking that I
could soon overtake the thieves, I started out without
any provisions or preparation. After following them
about twenty miles, I saw that I would have to make a
long ride to overtake them, which I did, following them
some four hundred miles without catching up with the
band, but capturing one of their number who had
turned the stolen horses over to some confederates. I
caught this one big fellow, and, working on his fears,
made him believe I was going to hang him. Then he
gave everything away, which was the means, later on,
of capturing the whole gang, or nearly all of them.
Anyway, twenty-eight thieves was about the number W*
got. We had no difficulty in getting this gang of hors”
AFTER HORSE THIEVES AND HOLDUPS. 357
thieves after, we had them located. Every one of the
party was sent to the penitentiary, their sentences rang-
ing from fourteen to thirty years. They did not give us
any trouble after that.

CHAPTER XLVIII. .
CAUGHT IN A BLIZZARD.
On my return to McKinney, Captain Edmund (com-
mander at that Post) informed me that he had orders
to take his command, composed of three companies of
cavalry and four of infantry, down on the Belle Fourche.
There was a rumor that some of Lone Deer's band were
making their way up from there into the Little Powder
river country. We were to march down the Belle Fourche
and intercept them, if possible. So taking three com-
panies of cavalry and two of infantry we started for the
Belle Fourche. This march was what is known in, army
circles as “Pollock's Sage, Brush Expedition.” Reaching
the forks of the Belle Fourche and searching the lower
country, I failed to find any trace of the Indians, and was
perfectly satisfied that there were none in that part of
the country, and I reported to Captain Pollock to that
effect. The command was then ordered back to the Post.
Next morning, just as we were packing up to start, it com-
menced snowing, but not hard enough to delay our trav-
eling. On the way back to McKinney, I informed Captain
Pollock that there was a short cut across the country to
CAUGHT IN A BLIZZARD. 359
the Post if he desired to take it. It would save a great
deal of hard travel and get us to McKinney between 3
and 4 o’clock in the afternoon of the same day we started.
The Captain decided to take this cut-off trail. He sent
the wagon train by the old road, however, and it was two
days getting into quarters, it having to travel a consider-
able number of miles more than was traversed by the
command to reach the same destination.
After we got out on the prairie some eight or ten
miles, the snowstorm changed into one of the hardest
blizzards, or as hard a one, as I ever saw. It made it
very severe traveling for us. After we had been traveling
for about an hour, a young officer who had just come
from West Point (he was the engineer of the expedition)
came dashing up to me, telling me we were traveling
around in a circle. He spoke so loud that a great many
of the officers and men heard him, but I merely told
him to go back and attend to his part of the business,
which of course, quieted the men down. I suppose he
got turned around, as nearly everybody else had. All
the old officers had the good sense to keep still. On
account of the wind changing, I could hardly see my
horse's head in front of me. About half an hour after
his first visit, the young engineer came riding up to me
again, and by that time the whole company had the
same idea he had — that we were traveling around in a
circle. After delivering himself of the same speech he
had made before about our traveling in a circle, I made
the remark to him that if he was taking this command
through I would go back and stay in the rear of the
360 CAUGHT IN A BLIZZARD,
*
column, and he could lead. He said he was not the
pilot. I told him if he was not to go back and stay
Where he belonged, for one of us would have to take the
lead.
I then told Captain Pollock if he did not make that
man go back and stay in his place, I would stop where
I was. All the command had overheard this talk, and I
do not think I exaggerate it a little bit when I say
that half of them were sitting on their horses crying,
thinking they were lost. Captain Pollock was the
only one in the command who did not think so. He had
all the confidence in the world in me, and I had con-
fidence in myself, if I was not bothered. At the same
time I was satisfied that if the command got turned
around and we happened to miss the trail between the
two Pumpkin Buttes every last one of them would be
frozen to death. When I saw the men crying I told
them to have a little more courage and confidence, as I
would take them through all right. I tried to encourage
them as much as I could. I think every man who was
in that command will acknowledge today, if living, that
it was one of the hardest marches they ever made. I
went right on through the blinding storm. Not a word
was spoken further by any one. At least I could not
have heard it if there was, on account of the noise of
the storm. It was just 3 o'clock when I reached the
trail leading through the buttes and went down the pass.
The storm cleared up as soon as we got through the
forest, and I knew we were but a short distance from
the Post. I never saw a lot of men more tickled than
CAUGHT IN A BLIZZARD. 361
the soldiers in that command were. Some of them pulled
me off my horse, carrying me around on their backs for
a little while. They were almost crazy with thankfulness
that they had got through all right. They all realized
that if we had missed the trail we would surely have
perished in the storm that had overtaken us. I do not
think I went two hundred yards out of the way at any
time during the march; but I knew the country perfectly,
and it was next to impossible for me to have lost my
bearings under any circumstances.

CEIAPTER XLIX.
gºmys smºs
TE(E NEZ PERCES WAR.
Early in the spring of 1878 I was ordered to join
Gen. Merritt’s command. He had been ordered up on
Clear creek, or up in that country. I kept a lookout for
Indians, but there was nothing of note happened from
the fore part of the summer up to the first of Septem-
ber. I had taken some dispatches down to Fort McKin-
ney (Reno), and while there dispatches came in ordering
Gen. Merritt’s command to the Wind river country to in-
tercept Chief Joseph and his band, who were said to
have left Idaho and were on their way through the Na-
tional Park, headed for the Big Horn mountains.
I left the Post about eight o'clock in the evening,
reaching Gen. Merritt’s command at three o'clock on
the morning of the third of September. The General
immediately gave orders, after receiving the dispatches,
for the command to move, ordering me to take the Scouts
(I had twenty-six of them), with Lieut. Cherry of the
Third Cavalry and a detail of twenty men, and start out
to find the trail of Chief Joseph, or to locate his camp.
Gen. Merritt was to follow up our trail until he reached
w
OLD CROW.

THE NEZ PERCES WAIR. 363
the Big Horn river; then, if not hearing from us, he
would proceed to Fort Washakie.
We left the command about nine o’clock the next
morning. As we started out it commenced to rain and
snow. The storm kept up until the next day about noon,
so that we had a big snowstorm to travel through. It
made it a little hard for us to cross the mountain, as the
snow fell to the depth of over a foot, and Gen. Merritt
was unable to follow up our trail, which the snow cov -
ered. Reaching the Big Horn river on the third day out,
and starting to cross at the old bridge crossing, and not
finding any signs of the Indians, we struck out in a
northerly direction until we reached Clarke's Fork, there
finding the place where Chief Joseph and his band of
Nez Perces had camped the night previous. The hostiles
had left there early in the morning ; but as our horses
were completely tired out we concluded it was no use to
follow them ; besides there was too large a party for us
to tackle. We therefore started south to overtake the
command before it reached Fort Washakie.
[The Nez Perces war was the direct result of double
dealing on the part of the government with this tribe of
Indians. In 1855 certain lands had been secured to
Chief Joseph and his people in the Idaho valleys. The
Nez Perces were a very intelligent and industrious people,
and their fine farms and prosperity aroused the cupidity
of a certain class among the whites, finally leading to
the making of a new treaty in 1863, which did not re-
364 THE NEZ PERCES WAR.
ceive the sanction of one half the tribe. This treaty ex-
cluded from their original reservation the rich valleys of
the Lapwai and Wallowa. The Indians were very loth
to give up this stretch of rich country, and a very bitter
feeling was engendered between them and the whites
who insisted upon settling in the valleys named. This
feeling was greatly augmented in 1875, when one of the
Nez Perces was killed by the whites during a dispute
over stock, and an uprising was averted then only by the
intervention of the military.
The question of the ownership of the lands in the
Lapwai and Wallowa valleys was now agitated anew, and
commissioners were sent out from Washington to
decide the matter. As in every other case of a similar
nature, the Indians were given the worst of it, and in
the spring of 1877 they were forced to give up their
homes in the valleys which the whites demanded. This
led to an open breach in the month of June, when three
white men were killed by the Nez Perces. Gen. Howard
sent troops to the scene of trouble, who found Chief
Joseph and a band of one hundred and fifty warriors
ready for battle at White Bird Canyon, where the first
engagement occurred. Lieut. Theller and thirty soldiers
were killed in this battle, and the success of the Nez
Perces encouraged them to continue the struggle.
Gen. Howard, reinforced, took the field, and then be-
gan one of the most remarkable Indian campaigns known
to history. Looking Glass, one of the head men of the
Nez Perces nation, had declared himself and band of one
hundred warriors friendly and neutral, but fears were
TIIE NEZ PERCES WAR. 365
entertained that he would not remain so, and orders were
given to thoroughly and completely disarm him and his
people. In the attempt to do this, the troops killed
several of Looking Glass' men (who were totally unpre-
pared for trouble), destroyed the camp and drove off
over seven hundred head of ponies. For this atrocity,
all the Looking Glass Indians who had been friendly
toward the whites, joined Chief Joseph and remained
with him until the end at Bear Paw mountain.
From the date of the battle with Looking Glass
(June 27th) up to the 11th of July the Nez Perces made
matters interesting for the troopers, and on the 11th
day of July Gen. Howard, with four hundred men, found
Chief Joseph on the Clearwater (where Looking Glass
had been camped in June, with some two hundred and
fifty warriors, and a pitched battle ensued and lasted for
two days, the Nez Perces (having their families with
them) finally drawing off and abandoning lodges and
other property. The Indian loss amounted to over a
score killed and as many wounded. Gen. Howard lost
thirteen men and had twice that number wounded to
care for.
The Indians were pursued over the Salmon river,
through the Lolo valley and into the Bitter Root moun-
tains. Gen. Gibbon, then at Helena, mounted his in-
fantry and with what soldiers he could get from the
Second Cavalry at Fort Ellis, started out to meet Chief
Joseph. On the 9th of August the two forces met in
the valley of the Big Hole and a desperate battle was
waged for two days, the soldiers sustaining a loss of
366 THE NEZ PERCES WAR.
twenty-nine and the Indians twenty. From this point
the Nez Perces passed on to the National Park, followed
the entire way by the troops. The route taken by the
Indians led them down the Clarke's Fork plains, and here
Gen. Sturgis (with six companies of the Seventh Cavalry)
was waiting to intercept them. But receiving information
that the Nez Perces were coming down the Stinking-
water pass, Sturgis moved his command to that point,
and, the day following, Chief Joseph and his people
made camp near where the Seventh Cavalry had been in
waiting. On the 12th of September the Indians crossed
the Yellowstone, the next day passing up Canyon creek
and made for Crow Island, on the Missouri, closely
pursued by Sturgis. -
Gen. Miles had been apprised by Gen. Howard
of the coming of Chief Joseph, and Miles lost no time
in getting a force together (two troops of the Seventh
Cavalry and mounted three companies of the Ffth In-
fantry) and going in hot haste toward the British line
to head off the fleeing Indians, being reinforced on his
way by the Ellis battalion. On the evening of the 29th
of September, Miles located the hostiles on a creek bot-
tom at the foot of the Bear Paw mountains, and the next
day made an attack upon the camp. The siege which
ensued lasted four days, the Indians surrendering at the
end of that time. Among their dead was Chief Looking
Glass, who had been killed during the first day's en-
gagement. The Indian loss amounted to over two score
warriors, while the soldiers had Captain Owen Hale,
Seventh Cavalry, and Lieutenant Biddle and twenty-two
THE NEZ PERCES WAIº. 367
enlisted men to add to their loss. The Nez Perces pris-
oners were sent to the Indian territory, where their ranks
were soon thinned by death. Some few of the band
escaped to the British possessions and surrendered in
1881, and were afterward sent to the Indian territory,
but very few ever getting back to their former homes
in Idaho.
E. S. Topping, in his very interesting book entitled
“Chronicles of the Yellowstone,” pays this high tribute
to the Nez Perces:
“So closed a remarkable campaign, in which Joseph
figures as the most remarkable of the actors; in which
he, through an enemy’s country, traveled nearly two thou-
sand miles, and in that distance crossed the Rocky moun-
tain range three times. The fight at the Big Hole, where
his people were surprised and driven from camp, and yet
were rallied by him and regained the ground lost and
more ; the attack on Howard at Camp Prairie, which from
the loss of stock crippled and held that General back;
the five days’ fight at Bear Paw, with a force double the
size of his own, shows plainly the work of a master
mind. That all of his people showed courage and endur-
ance, is true ; but any power to be of use must be guided
by intelligence, and every turn or move made by the Nez
Perces was wisely planned and bravely executed. It is
true also, that in their march this people committed many
atrocities. Though no Indian apologist, nor having any
of that sentiment (whose root is ignorance) which poses
all Indians as martyrs, yet, knowing many of these peo-
ple personally, the writer feels for them a sentiment of
368 THE NEZ PERCES WAR.
pity. They thoroughly believed that their homes in Wal-
lowa were unjustly taken, and in their desperation com-
menced a war. The gathered hate of years burst out
against the settlers of that part of Idaho, and none were
spared that could be found. When away from this local-
ity, they expressed their intention of harming no civilians,
but so many of the settlers joined with Gibbon in the
Big Hole fight, and afterwards with Howard, that their
hearts hardened against all whites. With their only par-
tially subdued Indian nature, and with every man’s hand
against them, the only wonder is that so many whom
they might have killed were spared.
“During the third day's fight at Bear Paw, Looking
Glass, a chief second only to Joseph, was killed. He was
of magnificent stature, being six feet two inches in height
and well proportioned. He had always been a friend to
the whites, and would probably have continued so but for
the uncalled for attack on his camp at Stillwater, by
Whipple. This unjust act stirred his fiery nature, and
joining Joseph, he fought to the bitter end. There are
many who say that had he lived, the Nez Perces might have
been annihilated but never would have surrendered. It
is true that at his death the tribe weakened, and but for
Joseph would have surrendered then ; but that chief held
out till nearly all of the warriors had deserted him, and
he was then forced to succumb. Looking Glass was both
feared and loved by his warriors. He was feared for the
swiftness with which he punished disobedience (he had
killed one man with a pistol shot and had cut another
down with a saber, on the march,) and loved for his valor,
wisdom and perfect sense of justice.”—AUTHOR.]
CHAPTER L.
*
MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE — FRANK JAMES.
Upon reaching Fort Washakie we found that Gen.
Merritt had received dispatches ordering him to start down
the Platte river, as the Cheyennes had broken out in the
Indian Territory, and were making for the north, killing 8.
great many people as they went along. We only stopped
at Washakie one night, long enough to get supplies, and
then started across country and down the Sweetwater,
following the old California trail. Our first camp after
leaving the post was in the vicinity of the Sweetwater
river. About ten o’clock that night there was a big
thunderstorm, and, for some cause I never could learn, all
our cavalry horses stampeded. I had my horse hitched
right close to where I was sleeping. As soon as I heard
the stampeding I made a grab for the rope, my first
thought being that the Indians had got amongst us and
driven off our horses; but after I had saddled up my
horse and inquired the cause of the excitement, I heard
that it was only the stampeding of the horses. They
told me that none of the animals had been picketed, but
simply hobbled, and it was thought from what could be
learned that every one of the horses had gone.
370 MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE—FRANK JAMES. ,
I took what scouts there were and started after the
herd, overtaking a great many of them at daylight.
Part of them I did not overtake until the second day.
After we gathered them all up we started back with
them. Toward evening I met the command in motion,
some of the men packing their saddles on their backs.
We had been very lucky in getting all the horses back.
On reaching Fort Fetterman, Gen. Merritt received dis-
patches stating that the troops had captured the Chey-
ennes, and the Fifth Cavalry was ordered back to winter
quarters. I was ordered back to Fort McKinney, for
which Post I left that night. By the time I got back
there, they had begun to build their new Post on Clear
creek, (new Fort McKinney) three miles west of Buffalo,
and about fifty miles north of the site of Fort Reno.
On reaching the Post I found mail waiting for me,
telling me that Frank and Jesse James had come up into
the northern country, and for me to be on the lookout
for them. They also sent descriptions and photographs
of the two brothers. While talking with the command-
ing officer (Capt. Pollock) one day, he said that a great
friend of his was camping above the Post, telling me
what a jolly man he was. He talked so much about him
that I finally asked him what sort of a man he was, get-
ting him to describe him, which he did. His description
tallied with that given me of one of the James brothers,
so I went and got the photographs and showed them to
Capt. Pollock, asking him if his friend looked like either
of the pictures, and he admitted that his friend was the
very same man whom the picture said was Frank James.
MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE—FRANK JAMES. 371
IIe turned the photographs over to look at the names
on the backs, and, when he saw who it was, he tried to
deny it was the same man. He was perfectly convinced,
however, that it was Frank James, and asked me what I was
going to do about it. I showed him the dispatch I had
received from Internal Revenue Collector Snow of Chey-
enne, and he told me that I should not go after James.
In fact, he forbade me to go after him, and finally ordered
me to remain at the Post. Commander Pollock went out
and informed Frank James that I had papers for his
arrest, and told him not to come in contact with me if
he could help it. Capt. Pollock was serious in whatever
he did. He thought a great deal of me, and he did not
want either one of us — James or myself — to get killed.
He told him everything, to keep him away from me ; to
keep on the watchout, and not to have any trouble with
me. I suppose that it is a good thing that he did tell
him, as it saved me from getting killed, later on.*
After I had got away from Capt. Pollock's control
(the Post having a new commander), I started out and
made an effort to arrest James. He and I would cer-
tainly have met if it had not been for a lady living in
the northern part of the country. Frank James was at
this woman’s house one day when I came along. She
saw me coming over the hill toward her place. Looking
through her glass, she recognized me and gave James
warning. On reaching the house I asked her who the
party was that had just left there, and she told me it
was a ranchman who lived on Goose creek. Then I
*A circumstance explained at end of chapter.
372 MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE—FRANK JAMES.
started to follow him. I had not gone but a few miles
after leaving this woman’s house before I found that she
had put me on the wrong trail, and he escaped me. Try
as hard as I would, I never was able to get on the right
track of Frank James.
[*Some time after Grouard had his first talk with Capt.
Pollock about Frank James, the authorities became con-
vinced that a man by the name of Billy Runyon (who
lived on Box Elder creek, near Lake De Smet, about a
dozen miles north of the Post,) was either one of the
holdups' confederates or was (as many claimed) weak-
minded and being made a tool of by the thieves. It
was concluded, finally, to take him into custody. Runyon
was also wanted as a witness against the men who had
visited T. J. Foster's ranch on Piney, hanged Foster until
he was nearly dead and then robbed his house, as it was
claimed that Runyon knew all about the matter, as well
as being acquainted with the parties to the outrage.
Grouard rode up to Runyon’s to arrest him, and got to
within fifty yards of the door when a gang of thirty-two
holdups sprang out of the house and covered the Scout
with their guns. One of these men, whom Grouard
recognized as Frank James, ordered the others not to fire,
and Grouard turned his horse and rode rapidly from the
locality. Had it not been for the action of Frank James,
Grouard would certainly have been riddled with bullets.
This is the incident referred to in the foregoing page
where the scout says Capt. Pollock’s talk with Frank
James saved his (Grouard's) life.-AUTHOR.]
THOMAs J. Fost ER, on E OF THE “OLD-TIMERs.”

CHAPTER LI.
*º
CAPTURING A ROAD AGENT.
It was in the spring of ’78 that the road agents began
operating so boldly in northern Wyoming. Mr. Trabing
had a store on Crazy Woman, and one night the high
waymen went in there, held it up, and took what goods
and provisions they wanted. There happened to be a big
crowd of government teamsters at the store on the night
of the robbery, but, of course, they were held up also :
made to stand in a row and hold up their hands, giving
what money they had to the robbers. The stage was
held up that same night on Nine Mile creek out from
Buffalo. Mr. Tillotson, who owned a half interest in
the store, and Mr. Sneider, of San Francisco, were on the
stage when it was held up. Mr. Tillotson had been paid
a great deal of money just before leaving the Post, the
amount being about twenty-two thousand dollars in cur-
rency. But just before starting the paymaster at the
Post had given him a check for all the money except
three hundred dollars. The road agents must have had a
tip that Mr. Tillotson had this big pile of money with
him, and they anticipated a nice, fat haul, which they
would certainly have obtained if Mr. Tillotson had not
374 CAPTURING A# ROAD AGENT.
wº
changed the currency for a check. When holding up the
stage that night, the highwaymen mentioned the amount
of money the merchant was supposed to have, thereby
giving away the fact that some one at the Post stood
in with them; but they only got about three hundred
dollars from Mr. Tillotson, and a valuable watch from Mr.
Sneider that he had received as a present from his wife.
Some three or four months afterwards the watch was re-
turned to him by his nephew, E. U. Sneider, who in some
manner got possession of it.
There were so many robberies occurring in that part
of the country that year, that I could not look after
them myself. Officers were sent up from Laramie City
to work on the cases; but they would no sooner reach
the Post than they would get a very polite note from the
road agents, embellished with cross-bones and skull, telling
them what would be their fate if they did not return to
the railroad. The officers always took the hint and re-
turned to Laramie.
About two weeks after the first robbery of the Trab-
ing store, it was held up again. Upon getting word
of this the next morning, I started for the scene of the
robbery. Before reaching there I met some of the road
agents coming toward Buffalo, but they recognized me
just before getting up to me and turned off. the road.
Of course, I did not know at the time that they were
road agents until they commenced running and shooting
at me. I followed them some distance, but was unable
to overtake them. In their haste to get away they left
three horses behind laden with goods stolen from the
CAPTURING A ROAD AGENT. 375
Trabing store. I drove these animals back to Crazy
Woman, where the particulars of the robbery were given
me. Mr. Bowman, who was the head clerk of the store,
told me he had considerable money in the store at the
time of the robbery, but that he had put it in a bag and
covered it up with a lot of potatoes, and the robbers did
not find it.
It was impossible for one man to do anything with
this big gang of robbers—next to impossible to catch
them, single handed ; so I wrote to Cheyenne and told
the authorities there that they would have to send me
assistance if they wanted anything done. They sent up
a man by the name of Llewellyn from Omaha to help me
catch the thieves or drive them out of the country.
When Mr. Llewellyn came up he hired out at the Post as
a carpenter, and nobody suspected who he really was.
He worked around the Post some two weeks so as to
get acquainted with the country and the people who lived
around there ; and one morning, without saying any-
thing, he quit his job and went off and joined the road
agents. Of course, nobody knew his whereabouts or ob-
ject but myself. How he got in with the thieves I do
not know ; but he got in with them, and afterwards kept
me informed of their movements. He left letters at a
big rock two miles from the Post, whenever he wanted
to communicate with me, or whenever any of the road
agents were to be at the Post.
We were perfectly aware of the fact that the road
agents had spies and confederates at Fort McKinney, but
it was a difficult matter to discover exactly who they
376 CAPTURING A ROAD AGENT,
were. Llewellyn's scheme was to keep in such close touch
with all the thieves by joining them that he could find
out who their confederates were, let me know and I was
to pounce down on them before they had time to get
away. There were a great many gambling dens about
the Post, and one in particular that bore a hard name.
It was kept by a negro, who also run a barber shop and
shaved most of the officers. In this latter capacity he
was enabled to converse with the officers and find out
nearly everything that was going on, and it transpired in
time that he was the resident agent of the holdups. One
of the robbers would go to the Post, visit the negro's
place of business, get his tips and then return to the
headquarters camp of the thieves and put up the rob-
beries.
One day I found a letter at the rock from Llewellyn
stating that one of the thieves would visit the Post that
evening and giving me a description of him. Going to
this colored man’s shack that evening, I saw my man as
quick as I stepped into the house. He was sitting at the
end of the table playing faro, and had his chips in front
of him. There were a lot of people at the table, and
nobody took particular notice when I sat down. Buying
a stack of chips I commenced playing so as to catch this
man without any disturbance. The first good opportunity
that presented itself, I drew my gun and set it up against
his breast, told him very quietly that he was my prisoner,
and that if he made any noise I should pull the trigger.
I commanded him to hold his hands down between his
knees so I could put the handcuffs on his wrists, which
CAPTURING A ROAD AGENT. 377
he did. This was done below the level of the table, so
that I do not think there were many who noticed he wore
the irons when I took him out of the house. Hurrying
him over to the government guard house, I put him in
there for safe keeping.
After securing him, I thought the next best thing I
could do was to go down and break up the negro's gam-
bling house. I went to the commanding officer and told
him what I was going to do, and he gave me some assist-
ance. We then broke up the gambling den, taking pos-
session of all the colored man’s tools, telling him that
he was not allowed to gamble at the Post.
On the following morning I came down to the
Post, and found the negro setting on the bar-room steps.
As I started to go into the place he jumped up and com-
menced firing at me. He fired five shots at me, and how
he missed me I never could make out. I had no arms
with me, so I could not do anything, and I thought
if I moved he would be more apt to kill me. I stood
there until five shots were fired. Just as he fired the fifth
shot I jumped into the billiard room.
As soon as I jumped inside the building the negro
sprang from the steps and ran around the corner of the
house, dropping his six-shooter and a big carving knife
as he ran. I followed him as quickly as I could, suppos-
ing he had gone clear around the house ; but instead of
going around the house he went into a side door, and
through the back part of the building up into the loft. I
made a close search, but failed to find him. I learned
afterwards that he had gone up into the loft. There was
378 CAPTURING A ROAD AGENT.
another negro working in the place who told me he had
helped to hide him up there. He made good his escape,
however, and I never saw him afterwards.
The road agents had a saloon (called Hold Up Hall)
situated nine miles south of the Post, where they hung
out. They did not live there, but would stop to get
drinks when they wanted to. Two or three days after
making the arrest of the road agent I received a letter
with cross-bones and skull, and the picture of a tree and a
rope hanging from a limb, telling me that hanging would
be my fate if I should attempt to take my prisoner down
the road ; that the writers would be on a continual watch
for me at the Hold Up Hall saloon ; that I never could
pass there with the prisoner. I did not like the idea of
being dictated to as to what I should or what I should not
do, and I resolved to take the prisoner down that very
night.
Going to the commanding officer, I showed him the
letter I had received, and told him I should start out
that night, or rather toward morning. I asked him if
he would give the necessary orders to turn the prisoner
over to me whenever I should call for him. He said he
would. I left the guard house about 4 o'clock the next
morning with the prisoner, putting him on the floor of
the buggy on his back and warning him that if he made
any noise or any kind of a break while I was passing
this saloon at Nine Mile I would shoot the top of his
head off; that in case of trouble he would be the first
one I would shoot. The road ran right past the saloon
—within fifty yards of it. This road was built down a
CAPTURING A ROAD AGENT. 379
sort of hollow. As I came up on the top of the hill I
could look down and see lights and hear the people in
the saloon laughing and yelling. I supposed they were
on a general drunk from the noise they were making,
and thought the best thing I could do was to try to
drive past the saloon before anyone inside recognized
me. I did this, and went on to Crazy Woman, reaching
there about half-past six in the morning.
When I arrested the prisoner I had telegraphed to
the United States marshal at Cheyenne to come and get
him, and I found two deputies waiting at Crazy Woman
to receive the robber, and I turned the prisoner over to
them. I had my team fed, got my breakfast and waited
around about an hour, I should judge, before starting
back to the Post. I knew if I tried to pass Hold Up
Hall on my return I would have a fight on hand, and I
came to the conclusion that the best thing I could do
would be to drive right up to the door of the saloon.
I thought if I could get up there and into the house
before they discovered that I was anywhere in the
vicinity, it would be the best thing for me. If I had to
have a fight I would have a better chance at close
Quarters than at a distance.
So I drove up to the saloon and jumped out of the
buggy into the door before anyone inside knew who I
Was. As soon as I jumped in I saw there were only
six men in the room, one of them being the bartender.
The other five were sitting around the fireplace. As
Soon as I set eyes on them I recognized the leader of
the road agents—a big fellow by the name of Cully.
38(, CAPTURING A ROAD AGENT,
Another I recognized was Tom Reed ; another Bill Zim-
merman. The other two I did not know. I had on my
overcoat, the night having been chilly. When I jumped
into the house I had both my hands in the breast
pockets of my overcoat, where I had two guns.
The five men looked up as I entered. They recog-
nized me at once, but the bartender was the only one
who spoke. He remarked that it was very early in the
morning for me to be so far away from home, and said
it was “pretty chilly.” I told him I had found it warm
enough, having just taken a prisoner down the road, and
was on my way back to the Post. I watched the five
thieves (had my eyes on them all the time) to see what
effect my words would have on them. I was prepared
to go to shooting the first break they made. There sat
three men that I wanted vcry badly ; that I had been
after for a long time ; in fact, would have given anything
to have made my prisoners. But there were five
of them and only one of me. If I should undertake to
arrest them I would get killed. I would get two of
them, but they would get me. If I had had someone
with me to take their arms away from them while I
covered them with my gun, I would have had no trouble
at all in arresting them. There was a large reward on
three of them, and they knew that if they made a move
I would not hesitate a second in shooting. As the old
saying goes, “I was afraid, and they dasn't ; ” that was
about the size of it.
I asked the bartender if his friends would take a
drink. He asked them. There was not one of them
CAPTURING A ROAD AGENT. 381
that would look up until he asked them the second time.
As they raised up to come to the bar, I stepped up with
my back to the wall, so I could see that none of them
went behind the bar, as I was a little afraid they would
get behind the bar and commence shooting at me, but
they did not try it. They all came up to the bar and
called for whisky, drank it and went back to their seats
without saying a word. After I paid the bartender for
the drinks, I backed out of the door and then backed
clear around to the opposite side of the buggy, got in
and started the horses up. I turned square around and
faced them as I drove off, in order that I might watch
their movements, if they came to the door. But for
some reason they did not see fit to make an attack, and
I met with no further adventure on my way to the Post.

CHAPTER LII.
THE KILLING OF M'GLOSKY.
Late one night in the fall of 1878 an Indian from
the Crow Reservation came to my house at Fort McKin-
ney and brought me a note from Tom Irving, the Sheriff
of Yellowstone county, Montana, informing me that two
men hailing from northern Wyoming had stolen a couple
of race horses from a party on the Yellowstone river,
and wanted me to be on the lookout for the thieves, as
they were supposed to have come south with the stolen
property. At the time I received this communication
Charlie McCleod, afterward shot and killed in the city of
Buffalo by a man named Johnson, was rooming with me.
I caught up my horse that same night and started
out to head off the thieves, and ran across them at Ed.
O’Malley’s dance house (some two and a half miles from
the Post) at ten o’clock the next morning. I rode up to
O’Malley's and got off my horse. There were fully one
hundred people standing in front of the house when I
got there. As I was shaking hands with one of the
party, I saw McGloskey coming around the corner of
the stable directly toward the spot where I stood. He
was riding one of the stolen horses. His partner followed
THE KILLING OF M'GLOSKY. 383
him around to the corner of the stable, but noticing, I
presume, that I was awaiting McGloskey's coming, he put
spurs to his horse and started off in the direction of
Crazy Woman creek. McGloskey must have recognized
me, for he knew me well, and had made threats a hun-
dred times during the year that he would kill me on
sight. I held my carbine in my left hand as McGloskey
came up. My intention was to grasp the bridle rein of
his horse and arrest the thief. As he got up to me I
raised my right hand and told him to stop, that I wanted
him, at the same time trying to grasp his bridle rein.
But he put spurs to his horse and threw down on me
with his revolver, shooting as he passed me.
I don’t know how he could have missed killing some
one in that big crowd, but he did. When he had got off
about one hundred yards he turned in his saddle to take
another shot, but he was too late. I covered him with
my carbine and fired, and McGloskey went several feet
into the air and fell off his horse. E. U. Snider ran to
Where McGloskey lay and I got on my horse, rode out
and caught up the stolen animal and started for the other
fellow, who had struck out toward the red hills. He had
a big start and escaped, although I followed him about
fourteen miles.
I stopped long enough by McGloskey's side be-
fore following the other thief to see that he was done
for, and just then the pack train came along on its way
to the Post. I got one of the packers to ride in and
have an ambulance sent out, and then continued on after
McGloskey's partner. I did not get back to the Post
384 THE KILLING OF MI'GLOSKY.
until sun-down. Then I went to see the wounded horse
thief. The doctor told me there was no chance for him,
so I asked the man if he had any relatives or friends
he would like to send a message to. All he would do
was to curse me. I could get nothing else out of him.
He said he merely wanted to live long enough to have
one shot at me. I told him he could have the first shot.
There was no chance for him to get well. He died that
night at eight o’clock, hurling curses at me with his very
last breath.
He was a bad man and had committed many crimes
in our section. He was wanted for murder in Fremont
county, and the Kansas authorities were also anxious to
get him for a similar offense, but I did not know this
until after his death. The killing of McGloskey seemed
to give the tough class of individuals notice to quit the
country, and they quit.

SITTING BULL, AFTER HIS RETURN FROM THE BRITISH PossEssions.

CHAPTER LIII.
SITTING BULL.
The commonly accepted idea that Sitting Bull's dip-
lomacy and cunning made him a laggard in battle, is
erroneous, according to Grouard. When the latter met
the great chief of the Uncapapas, Sitting Bull was in
his prime, being about thirty-six years of age. He was
a very cunning Indian. In stature he was not much
over five feet, and he weighed close to two hundred
pounds. His body tapered from the shoulders down.
His nose was the prominent feature of his face. His
eyes, which were steel blue in color, looked through and not
at you. They were very large, and in his anger became
bloodshot, like a mad animal’s. His face was massive
and was somewhat rounding, with a great width of lower
jaw. His mouth was large, but his lips were thin,
though firm. He had a low, broad forehead. His
head was crowned with a profusion of long, black hair.
His father was a noted Sioux warrior, and met death
in battle with the Crows on Grand river several years
before Grouard’s capture. In 1870, his mother, who
was over eighty years of age, lived in the Uncapapa
village with her only daughter, White Cow, then a
386 SITTING BULL.
woman of thirty, a widow with two children, one, a
daughter, being a deaf mute.
Sitting Bull was a great practical joker, and even
in serious council, he found immense delight in telling, a
joke on some chief or warrior present. Among his own
people he was constantly laughing. He was quick
tempered, but soon recovered his good nature. He was
totally unforgiving and never forgot an injury. As an
Indian, says Grouard, he was a mighty shrewd one, and
in all his councils looked to and talked of the future of
his tribe and people. He had a set idea that the Sioux
nation was doomed and that there was no salvation for
it. He constantly maintained that the life of the Indian
meant war at all times, and boasted that he would be
the last of the Sioux chiefs to surrender. He gloried
in his chieftancy and the renown his deeds had brought
him. So firmly was this sentiment implanted in his
breast that even his bitterest foes respected him for it.
All the young warriors worshiped him. His life and
deeds were the beacon lights that guided them on to
victories. As a general rule, he was a good-natured
Indian.
At the time of Grouard’s capture Sitting Bull had
three children — two boys and a little girl— the latter
named Plenty Horses, whose mother had died on Tongue
river when the little one was three years old. This child
was a perfect blonde, and Grouard always thought she
was a white captive. Grouard says the chief always
treated all the children well, especially this little girl.
Sitting Bull seemed to have a penchant for acquiring
SITTING BULL. 387
wives from the ranks of widows. Both his squaws had
a son each of their own before they accepted situations as
sagebrush burners in the tepi of the Uncapapa. Each of
these squaws had borne the chief a son.
Sitting Bull was nothing if not diplomatic. He
placed a peculiar value upon the friendship of all the old
squaws. He knew their influence amounted to nothing in
council or on the warpath, but he was shrewd enough to
understand that the women were the school teachers of
the children. He never lost an opportunity of playing
the gallant toward the squaws, who sang his praises to
the exclusion of every one else. What the children
learned at the knees of their mothers, they remembered in
their youth and manhood, so that the lessons taught yes-
terday bore fruit on the morrow, and Sitting Bull's fame
and prowess as a warrior grew by what it fed on.
He was no laggard in camp. He took a lively in-
terest in the young braves, and organized hunts and dis-
tributed prizes ; got up feasts, and gave of his stolen
plenty to the poor. The name of Sitting Bull was a “tepi
word ” for all that was generous and great. The bucks
admired him, the squaws respected him highly, and the
children loved him and were taught to emulate his
example. He would have proved a mighty power among
our present day politicians — a great vote getter with
the people — had he been a white man with a con-
gressional ambition. He might, then, in truth, have been
renowned as a political economist ; but in his savage
economy he utterly and persistently refused to celebrate
ration day at an agency, or exchange his wild freedom
for the bondage of civilization.
388 SITTING BULL,
He was forced, at last, to bow to the inevitable ;
but even the enemies of Sitting Bull must concede that
the uncompromising savage was far advanced toward the
twilight of life before he accepted the white man’s pro-
tection or bounty. It was simply a case where he had
nothing else to do. The land he had loved and fought
to retain had been wrested from his hands; his people
had been gradually driven into agency exile or killed in
battle; the game had sought shelter from the encroaching
Caucasian in a land where other powerful tribes lived
and flourished ; and the matter resolved itself into a
question of suicide by starvation or humble submission to
the will of Government. The women and children were
ragged and hungry, and the spirit of the chief was broken.
Diplomatic, even to the end, he laid away the weapons
of the warrior, submissively folded his arms across his
crime-hardened breast and accepted the agency—and death.
“Many of the high-minded and most of the vicious
among the Indian nations of the northwest found their
leader in Sitting Bull, who, though often unpopular with
his fellow chiefs, was always potent for evil with the
wild and restless spirits who believed that war with the
whites was, or ought to be, the chief object of their ex-
istence,” writes Finerty in 1879, a twelvemonth previous
to Sitting Bull's surrender. “This was about the true
status of the Indian agitator in those days. He had
strong personal magnetism. His judgment was said to
be superior to his courage, and his cunning superior to
both. He had not, like Crazy Horse, the reputation of
being recklessly brave, but neither was he reputed a das-
SITTING BULLs 389
tard. Sitting Bull was simply prudent, and would not
throw away his life so long as he had any chance of
doing injury to the Americans.
“I don’t care,” observes this same writer during
the year above mentioned, “what any one says about º
Sitting Bull not having been a warrior. If he had not
the sword, he had, at least, the magic sway of a Mo-
hammed over the rude war tribes that engirdled him.
Everybody talks of Sitting Bull, and whether he be a
figure-head or an idea, or an incomprehensible mystery,
his old-time influence was undoubted. His very name
was potent. He was the Rhoderick Dhu of his wild
and warlike race, and, when he fell, the Sioux con_
federation fell with him, even as dropped the pine of
Clan Alpine when its hero sank before the sword of the
Knight of Snowdoun.”
Captain Bourke speaks of Sitting Bull as a “medi-
cine man and a great talker, and rarely let pass an
opportunity for saying something.” But Sitting Bull
was a warrior, as well. He not only pointed out the
way, but led the way. He may not have fought with the
apparent fearlessness of Crazy Horse, but his hand-to-
hand encounter with a foe in his youth on the Porcu-
pine settled for once and always the question of his
personal bravery. Like Caesar, he would rather tell his
people what was to be feared than what he feared. He
was boastful, but he had some reason for his egotism,
for did not all the other chiefs and warriors count their
coups during religious worship ; and why not he?
It took generalship to hold and lead a large village
390 SITTING BULL.
away from the enticements the government held out to
the hostiles. Ammunition had to be secured, and Sitting
Bull’s camp was always well supplied. He needed no
intercessor between himself and the latest improved breech-
loaders. IIe made treaties, but they were with the San-
tees and northern tribes. He scorned to deal with the
whites. There was nothing of the traitor about the man.
He did not profess open friendship to hide his enmity.
He was not as politic, perhaps, as Spotted Tail or Red
Cloud, but the Government never miscalculated on his
hatred.
He asked no quarter. In 1875, when he was appealed
to for concessions regarding the Black Hills country, he
sent the following chal acteristic answer back to the com-
mission that awaited his coming at the Red Cloud
Agency :
“Are you the great God who made me; or was it the
great God who made me who sent you? If He asks me
to come to see IIlm, I will go ; but the Big Chief of
the white men must come see Me. I will not go to the
reservation. I have no land to sell. There is plenty of
game for us. We have enough ammunition. We don't
want any white men here.”
These are the words attributed to Sitting Bull on that
memorable occasion by Captain Bourke, and they are too
characteristic to be erroneous. Napoleon’s message to the
Pope was not more exacting; but ruin, exile and death
followed in both cases. Little did Sitting Bull realize in
1875 that he would so soon be driven from the lands se-
cured to him and his people by solemn treaty with the
JITTING BULL. 391
}
Great Father at Washington. The massacre of 1866 was
already bearing its fruit. Ten years from its date found
Sitting Bull and the warriors who had participated in that
butchery wanderers and asylum seekers. They were no
longer hunting, but hunted. Crook’s column of daring,
dashing soldiers had invaded the country from the south,
and swept hill and valley in their northward march. Like
the voice that was forever sounding in the ear of the
Wandering Jew, an irresistible force commanded Cheyenne
and Sioux to “Move on 1 Move on ſ” They stopped to
give battle when pressed and weary, but they gained only
temporary respite. From the Platte river valley to the
Powder fled the Indian, and hot in his wake went the
blue coats with their death-dealing magazine guns and
howitzers. Onward, through the rich valleys of the
Tongue, affrighting the antelope and driving the buffalo
before them, still fled Sioux and Cheyenne. The pur-
suers slackened not their pace. From the north, over the
very trails the Indians were taking, came a new and un-
thought-of danger–Terry and Gibbon, and Custer and
Reno and Benteen The armies of the Great Father
were merciless. The natural instincts of the savage
were nomadic, but rest was as necessary to him as it
was to his civilized brother. In the face of all the
threatened dangers he could not pause to rest. The
edict said, “Move on 1 Move on 1 °
There was no return. Death and Devastation was
behind; the Sword and Destruction in front. To the
redman the case was desperate. In the words of Mac-
beth, there was “No flying hence nor tarrying here !”
392 & MSITTING BULL.
No wonder, then, that, like the cry of the Scotch Mon-
ster, the savage wail went up,
ſ
Blow, wind; come, wrack;
At least, we'll die with harness on our back
Six thousand hostiles were in the panting army mov-
ing northward toward the less inhospitable possessions of
the English queen. Thousands more would join them on
the way, and the year 1878 found the hostile bands
under the protection of the British flag. The line of
boundary between the country where they found asylum
and their native land was no longer an imaginary one.
The soldiers of the Great Father patrolled it with jealous
care. Distasteful as had been the thought of the Amer-
ican agencies to the Indian, it was now conceded to be
no worse than perpetual banishment from the haunts and
homes they loved. Despair reconciled them to the hard
conditions of the Great Father ; and, in the end, the
ghosts of the legion that once populated the mighty
west flitted over the border and stood silent and sub-
missive on the great American reserves. It was not the
return of prodigals. It was the incoming of a broken-
spirited horde of homeless heathen. The eagle had
feasted on the hawk, but there were no wrens for the
hawks to prey upon The words of Cettewayo were
indeed prophetic. His estimate of civilization was
sound, at least: “First came the missionary—then came
the soldiers ''”
Many crimes are laid at thy door, oh, Civilization 1
Perhaps unjustly, but they are laid there, all the same.
CHAPTER LIV.
-**
THE “sworD BEARER” TROUBLE.
It was, I think, in the fall of 1886, that the trouble
occurred on the Crow reservation between the Indians and
troops. Sword Bearer, one of the Crow braves, was the
victim of the uprising. It was at the time that consid-
erable talk was indulged in about reducing the army and
abandoning many western posts, so something had to be
done to stir the country up to a realization that the
Indian still existed and had not forgotten the tricks of
his fathers. I don't think there would have been any
trouble at all if it had not been brought about by the
whites.
Sword Bearer, who had very little following among
the Crows, had spent three nights and as many days
at the base of Clouds Peak, in the Big Horn Range,
making medicine, and when he got back to the reserva-
he told some startling stories of what he could accomp-
lish with the medicine he had made. He got quite a
number of the Indians excited and finally the troops
were called into requisition. I was dispatched from Fort
McKinney to the reservation to find out the cause of
the excitement. When I arrived at the Crow reserve
394 THE “SWORD BEARER”. TROUBLE:-
I met Sword Bearer and learned that his influence had
not spread to over twenty bucks, and so reported to
Gen. Ruger. I informed the general that it would be
the easiest matter in the world to arrest those concerned
in the trouble and thus end the matter, but he did not
seem to want to take that kind of action, and sent
word to the Indians that if Sword Bearer and his active
allies were not surrendered by twelve o’clock on the fol-
lowing day he would attack the village.
In the meantime Sword Bearer had declared that
the bullets of the troops could not injure him, and he
made quite a number of the Crows believe that he
could decapitate all the soldiers at once, by one swoop
through the air with his sword. The troops were drawn
up near the village ready for action at noon, when
Sword Bearer and his followers jumped their ponies and
charged down upon the soldiers. When the attacking
party was pretty close to the blue coats one of the Indian
police named Medicine Tail shot Sword Bearer in the
arm, and the great medicine man started from the field
as fast as his pony would carry him, followed by Crazy
Head, who overtook the fleeing man by the side of the
creek and tried to persuade him to return, telling him
he had tried to make the Crows believe he was big
medicine, had got them into the trouble and should now
face it out, and he grasped the wounded warrior's horse
and started to lead it back into camp. But Sword Bearer
had got quite enough of war and was crying piteously,
and said he wished to be allowed to go into the hills
and die. Just then two Indian police came up, one of
THE “SWORD BEARER” TROUBLE. 395
whom berated Sword Bearer severely and told him that he
had claimed that bullets could not enter his flesh, and yet
a bullet had shattered his arm. “If a bullet can’t harm
you,” said the policeman, “then how is it your arm is bro-
ken?” So, to satisfy himself, the policeman put his gun
behind Sword Bearer's head and pulled the trigger. The
result was that Sword Bearer fell to the ground, dead,
without a groan.
I arrived on the scene almost at the moment the shot
was fired, examined the body and reported the affair to
Gen. Ruger. IIe asked me if there could not be some
mistake about the dead man’s identity, and I told him no.
He thought it would be well to have some of the officers
visit the place where the killing occurred and make a
SWOrn statement regarding the identity of the dead man,
together with all the circumstances surrounding the
tragedy, which was done, and that ended the war on the
Crów reservation, for which there was not the shadow
of an excuse, anyway. The Crows were never unfriendly
toward the whites, but had been our allies during the
campaign of 1876 and at other times. Deaf Bull and
Crazy Horse were sent to Bismark, where they were kept
some little time, and were then permitted to return to the
reservation. The soldiers were returned to their quarters.
CHAPTER LV.
THE SOUTH DAROTA OlyTBREAK.
Some time before the outbreak of the Sioux and
Cheyennes at Pine Ridge, S. D., in 1890, Grouard was
ordered to proceed to the Rosebud Agency and find out,
so far as lay in his power, the cause of the discontent
among the Indians. The ghost dances were already in
progress at that time. The scout went among the Indians
and found they were on the verge of starvation. It was
not alone the thought of the coming Indian Messiah that
crazed them, but the want of enough to eat. The Chey-
ennes had killed a man on the Rosebud, and it was
reported that depredations were being committed in all
quarters of South Dakota. The cattlemen claimed that
their range stock was being butchered by the Indians,
and matters were assuming a serious aspect. While
Grouard was in the vicinity of the excitement a cowboy
was killed on the range.
Upon his return to McKinney, the scout made his
report to headquarters. He had learned enough to satisfy
himself that all the trouble was caused by the govern-
ment employes, aided and abetted by outside parties who
saw a chance of making money through an Indian up-
YANKTON CHARLIE.

THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK. 397
rising. Even the police and friendly Indians were shak-
ing their heads ominously.
“Of course,” says Grouard, “as an excuse it was
made to appear that the ghost dance was the cause of all
the trouble. From what I learned from the Indians no
outbreak would have resulted from the ghost dances. If
left alone, the craze would have died a natural death.
Every ten or twenty years the Indians go wild — some
hallucination takes possession of them ; but they quiet
down again in their own good time if left to themselves.
It was known, however, that if some good excuse were
provided, the government would spend considerable money
in putting troops and provisions in the vicinity of the
Pine Ridge Agency, and mercenary motives prevailed.”
It is to be supposed, therefore, that Grouard’s report
to headquarters stated these matters; but before any
further inquiry could be instituted the “outbreak” oc-
curred. Grouard was then ordered to report at once to
headquarters at Pine Ridge, which he did.
Months before the appearance of any war cloud, In-
dian Inspector Armstrong sent the following graphic re-
port from Pine Ridge to the Secretary of the Interior,
but no particular attention was given the matter: .
“In former years this agency was allowed 5,000,000
pounds of beef. This year it has been reduced to 4,000,-
000 pounds. These Indians were not prepared for this
change. No instructions had been given the agent that
1,000,000 pounds of beef would be cut off from the In-
dians this year. Consequently, issues were made from
the beginning of the fiscal year—July 1st, 1889 – until
398 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
the date of final delivery of beef, about October 15th,
1889, on the basis of 5,000,000 pounds for the year.
This necessitated a large reduction in the beef issue after-
ward to catch up with the amount, and came just at the
worst season of the year. The Indians were kept at the
Agency between three and four weeks in the farming
season of 1889, when they should have been at home
attending to their corn. This enforced absence attending
the Sioux Commission caused them to lose all they had
planted by the stock breaking in on their farms and de-
stroying everything they had. They have been com-
pelled to kill their private stock during the winter to
keep from starving, and in some cases have been depre-
dating on the stock of white people living near the line
of reservation.
“A bad feeling is growing among the Indians out
of this, and may lead to trouble between the settlers
and the Indians. The killing of a hog made the Nez
Perces war, with Indians far more advanced than these
people. The full allowance of beef should be given
them. They complain and with good grounds, that they
were told by the Sioux Commissioners that their rations,
etc., should not be reduced ; that while this talk was
going on, the Department in Washington was fixing to
cut off one-fifth of their meat supply, but did not let
them know it, until they had signed the Sioux bill.
They had a good start in cattle, but have had to kill
over three times as many of their own cattle, old and
young, as they did the year before ; that they had been
deceived in doing what they did by the Government, and
that they don’t get as much now as they did before.
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK. 399
“I think cutting off this 1,000,000 pounds of
beef and thereby forcing them to kill their own young
cattle, has put them back two years or more in raising
stock, and has created a feeling of distrust, which, unless
something is done to repair it, will lead to trouble and
bad conduct. They have now killed many of their own
cattle and will next commence to kill range cattle. Al-
ready hides and other evidences of this are being found
on the reservation borders.
“Men will take desperate remedies sooner than suffer
from hunger. Not much work can be expected with the
present feeling. The Indians who advocated signing are
now laughed at and blamed for being fooled. They don’t
even get their former rations, and ask where are all the
promises that were made. The Government must keep
faith as well as the Indians.
“The attention of the Department has frequently
been called to the condition of the Cheyenne Indians at
this agency, their dissatisfaction and determination to do
nothing to better their condition. They now openly say
they will leave there this spring, and therefore have no
intention of putting in crops or doing any work.
“They may be held here by force, but it is question-
able if it is a good policy to keep them at Pine Ridge
agency any longer. The nine hundred Cheyennes at
Tongue river, Montana, and these five hundred Cheyennes
of the same band here, should be concentrated at one
agency. The Sioux don’t want them here, and they don’t
Want to stay. They should not be kept as prisoners only.
The Tongue River reservation is, I know, wanted by cat-
Sºmº. -- – --ºn--sº- *-*
400 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
tlemen. They should be a secondary consideration.
These Indians should be concentrated there, and a reser-
vation obtained for them from the Crows, and the Chey-
ennes should be moved to it. They will then be satisfied,
settle down, and go to work. No good can ever come
to the Cheyennes if the course pursued toward them
during the last six years is continued, and much bad
feeling may result.
“Why should Indians be forced to stay where they
never located through choice 3 Put them where they
want to live and can make a living, and let them stay
there and do it. Without some prompt action regard-
ing this beef matter, and also in the Cheyenne matter,
on this reservation, the Department may, this summer
or fall, expect trouble. I have thought this of sufficient
importance to lay it before the Department, and to go
in person to ask that some action be taken. I have
seen this Cheyenne matter brewing for two years, and
I see now the Sioux put back in the principal industry
on which they have to depend. With prompt action in
this matter, and the proper arrangement of districts for
the issuing of rations, a plan for which I will submit,
these people will go ahead. If not, they will go back-
ward, which to them is the easier road.” fº
While it is not the desire of the author of these
pages to load this volume down with official reports on
any subject, he cannot refrain from giving so much of
the correspondence as passed between “headquarters in
the field” and the authorities at Washington, especially
when the tenor of those reports convey the idea that
THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUTBREAK. 401
*
hostilities were actually forced on the Indians. Briga.
dier General Ruger, telegraphing from Pierre, S. D.,
November 16th, 1890, to the Assistant Adjutant Gen-
eral of the Division of the Missouri, said:
“From information had by conference with the In-
dian Agent at the Cheyenne River Agency, the Com-
manding Officer at Fort Bennett, and otherwise, the
condition seems as follows: About nine hundred per-
sons, mostly Minneconjou Sioux, are affected by the
excitement concerning the expected Messiah and the ghost
dances—about two hundred males, sixteen years and up-
ward, are involved. The dancing began about Septem-
ber 20th. The Indian police were at first able to
stop the dancing, as ordered by the Agent, and had not
the excitement been fed by Indians coming from other
agencies, Pine Ridge and Rosebud, in particular, the
agent could probably have controlled matters; but he
is not now able to stop the dancing by means of his
police, nor would the police be able to make arrests.
The police, who are armed with pistols only, have done
well. Settlers have reported the killing of a few cattle
in the vicinity of the reservation. The agent states
that Indian owners of cattle have sold some to whites,
contrary to orders.
“The ſndians affected by the craze are nearly all
those who did not sign the treaty to cede the lands.
Hump is the principal leader. Big Foot is also con-
cerned in dances. There is not likely to be an outbreak
of these dancing Indians at present nor during the winter.
They are somewhat sullen, but have made no threats
402 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
against the agent or employees, and I have directed that
a company be sent from Fort Sully to Fort Bennett at
the agency. Also shall keep the force from Meade, that
is camped on the Cheyenne river near southwest corner
of reservation, in , the field. No further action seems
immediately called for as to the Cheyenne River Res-
ervation. **
With respect to the Pine Ridge Reservation, where
there has been no military force at hand, I infer from the
reports made by the officer in command of the force at
Oelrichs and information otherwise, that the proportion of
Indians affected by the craze is greater than at Cheyenne
River or Standing Rock, and the excitement greater, and
that the agent is unable to enforce his orders by aid of
Indian police. This reservation is the place where princi-
pally the excitement started amongst the Sioux, and
from which it is fed by emissaries to other reservations.
The agent, Royer, by telegram this date asks for a mili-
tary force ; that Commissioner of Indian Affairs told
him to report state of case to me. I would recommend
that a force strong enough to overawe the Pine Ridge
Indians be sent, as soon as conveniently may be, to
the vicinity of the Pine Ridge Agency; that such force
be taken in preference from elsewhere than this depart-
ment, both to save time and also because the force still
at Fort Meade, the most accessible in this Department,
should, I think, be kept disposible for the present.”
Ten days later Gen. Ruger made a more detailed
statement from St. Paul, Minnesota, the substance of which
follows:
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK. 403
“I made reports by telegraph November 13th and
16th from Mandan, North Dakota, and from Pierre, South
Dakota, of the condition, essentially, of the state of affairs
at those dates on the Standing Rock and Cheyenne River
Reservations, respectively, of which copies are forwarded
here with. The state of case as to each reservation has
not since essentially changed, but the excitement on the .
Standing Rock Reservation has somewhat abated. The
proportion actively affected is about one-fourth, men,
women and children, included by families—nearly all of
whom belong to the Uncapapa band. There has not, I
think, been a time since the excitement began that the
agent could not (certainly with a slight show of military
force to support his Indian police) have made arrests by
the latter for any disregard of his orders or the regula-
tions by individual Indians.
“On the Cheyenne River Reservation there appears,
by the latest report, to be somewhat less excitement rela-
tive to the ghost dance; the number affected by the ex-
citement remains about the same as at the date of my
telegram, November 16th, comprising in all, by families,
about one-third of the Indians on the reservation, nearly
all of whom belong to the Minneconjou band. The In-
dian agent would not, I think, by means of his Indian
police alone, be able to arrest any of those actively en-
gaged in the dances or in sympathy therewith, provided
it was supposed the arrests were attempted for reasons
relating to the dances or disregard of the agent’s orders
to individuals prominent in inducing or keeping up the
excitement. The most unfavorable condition on this res-
404 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK,
ervation is the inability of the Agent to enforce his
authority and the disregard of his orders relative to
the dancing. \
“On both reservations, as might be expected, those
most affected are the Indians who have been opposed
most to the policy of the Government for the settlement of
the Indians and to the disposing of any part of the res-
ervation—those, in general, who have always been dis-
contented. There was no evidence, direct, nor fact from
which inference might be drawn, that there was an in-
tent, by the Indians concerned in the dances on either
reservation, to become “hostile;” but the opinion of the
best and most intelligent Indians was, if the matter
should be allowed to go on without check, that trouble
would come; also that those concerned in originating
the excitement should be arrested.
“The view of the better Indians is undoubtedly cor-
rect; for, although the excitement would probably die
down after a time, no outbreak occurring, the dissatisfied
leaders, ambitious to gain following, would revive it from
time to time, gain strength, and effect an organization,
comprising Indians on all the reservations, that would
necessarily lead to hostilities. .
“With respect to the action required to suppress
the present state and prevent a recurrence, reference is
necessary to the ground reasons of the excitement and
the facts of its development:
“Within a few years, comparatively, the whole man-
ner of life and surroundings of the Sioux Indians have
been changed by a violent wrench of fortune, whereby
THE SOUTH DAKO TA OU TBREAIſ. 405
the individual has been deprived of his former liberty
of coming and going at will, and subjected to many irk-
some rules of the reservation, and has had at times, it
must be admitted, cause for just complaint; and the
leaders have been deprived, in great degree, of their in-
fluence and authority.
“The greater part have accepted, and some in good
spirit and purpose, the change; but a part, those now
most disaffected, have not, further than they felt com.
pelled. These were exactly in the condition of discontent
and lack of hope in the future, from their point of view,
although savages, in which, for all time, tribes as well
as people are ready to welcome, if they do not look for,
a Moses or Messiah to bring them to a better state; and
the leaders, without whose impulsion to the excitement
there would have been no strong resistance to the
authority of the Indian agent, took advantage of the
condition to try to regain control and influence. In
the development of the “craze,” as it has been called,
there have been modifications to suit the locality, the
temper and surroundings of Indians immediately concerned,
and the objects of the leaders. As originally preached
to the western tribes, the coming of the Indian Mes-
siah — doubtful whether white man or Indian — was to
be the beginning of a time of peace and good will between
the whites and Indians, and all good men were to be
happy; but amongst the Sioux the teaching has been that
the whites are to disappear, and all good things to the
Indians (in accord with old ways and wishes) are to come.
“The proper course to be, in the first instance, taken,
406 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
it seems to me, is, after the excitement has somewhat
subsided, or at least during the winter after the weather
becomes severe and there would be less probability of
parties scattering from the reservation, that those Indians
prominent on the different reservations who have been
using their influence in the past to make trouble on the
reservations and who have been active in promoting the
present excitement, shall be arrested and removed to a
distance and kept there, at least until they could no
longer influence others for harm; that a force be kept
as long as may seem necessary at those Sioux agencies
where we have not heretofore had garrisons at hand;
that when necessary the authority of the Indian agents
be supported by the troops; and that all Indians belong-
ing on the Sioux reservation who may be found off their
proper reservations without authority, be arrested by the
military, and if armed, their arms taken and kept.
“I think the course indicated, if followed, would re-
store the authority of the Indian agents, and that the
leaders in creating trouble being removed, there would be
little probability of trouble hereafter from any cause
similar to the present. Any Indians ambitious to gain
following against the authority of the Indian Agents could
be easily arrested by the Indian police, whose power,
under the direction of the agents, would be much strength-
ened by the removal of the present influential disaffected
leaders.
“The question occurs, of course, whether the Sioux
Indians shall be disarmed, which I shall not be able to
consider in the time remaining since receiving the dis-
YELLOW WOOD’S CAMP, NEAR PINE RIDGE.

THE SOUTH DAKO TA OUTBREAK. 407
patch of this date, saying the Division Commander de-
sired my report forwarded by this evening's mail in order
that he might receive it before leaving for Washington.
Such disarming, if done, could not properly be under-
taken for some time, and I will write upon that subject
hereafter.”
It would not appear from the above that General
Ruger viewed the situation with such alarm that he was
satisfied of a coming conflict. He did not, in fact, think
the ghost dance meant anything worse than a religious
craze. In the meantime, General Gibbon, commanding
the Department of the Pacific, had sent Mr. A. A. I. Chap-
man to Nevada to discover and report upon the Indian
Messiah who was said to be located at or near the Wal-
ker Lake Indian Reservation. Mr. Chapman’s report is
dated December 6th, 1890, and, as it covers the matter
fully, is reproduced here:
SAN FRANCIsco, CAL., December 6th, 1890.
GENERAL JoHN GIBBon,
Commanding the Division of the Pacific,
- San Francisco, Cal.
Sir :–In accordance with your instructions of the
28th ultimo, to proceed to Walker Lake Indian Reserva-
tion, Nevada, and elsewhere in that vicinity, and gather
certain and all information regarding the Indian who per-
Sonated Christ at that place a year ago, I have the honor
to report that I left this city at 7 o'clock p. m. on the
day of receiving my instructions, and arrived at the
Walker Lake Indian Reservation on the 30th following,
408 THE SOUTH DARO TA OUTBREAA.
at three o'clock p. m. IIere I found quite a number of
Indians, including women and children, in groups here
and there, sitting on the ground playing cards. I made
myself known to Mr. J. O. Gregory (Indian farmer), who
was in charge of the agency, and inquired of him whether
he knew anything of an Indian in that part of the
country by the name of John Johnson. His answer was
fhat he did not, but that there was a very old Indian
living near the agency they called old Johnson, and
another they called Squire Johnson. I then asked him if
either of these Indians claimed to be a prophet, or
preached to the Indians at any time. He said they did
not, but that there was an Indian in the country by the
name of Jack Wilson, who claimed to be the new Mes-
siah, and had been preaching for the last two or three
years, and of late these ceremonies were becoming more
frequent, and had a much larger attendance; that there
were a great many strange Indians who attended these
dances, who he had understood had come from a great
way off; that these dances were held at intervals of about
three months, first at one place and then at another; that
this Indian, Jack Wilson, was mostly raised by a white
man who lived at Mason Valley, fifty miles from the
agency, and that he had understood from the white peo-
ple in that portion of the country that this new Messiah
(Jack Wilson) had a good name for being an honest,
hard-working Indian. Mr. Gregory remembers very dis-
tinctly the big dance which occurred near the agency,
when the Cheyennes, Sioux, Bannocks and other strange
Indians were present, that this meeting took place some
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTB.R.E.A.R. 409
time in last March. At this time the Indians were gath-
ering around in considerable numbers, and Mr. Gregory
introduced the Captain of the Indian police, Josephus,
who said he could tell me more about the new Messiah
(Jack Wilson) than he could.
Captain Joseph, of the Indian police, said: I am a
Piute Indian, and was born at Carson Sink (sinking of the
Carson river). I am now about forty-eight years old.
I am captain of the police, and also interpreter for the
government. I am well acquainted with Jack Wilson,
this man who preaches. He is a Piute ; his Indian
name is Quoitze Ow ; he was born here at this place of
a poor family, and when quite a large boy he went to
live and work for Dave Wilson, a white man who lives
in Mason Valley. When this Jack Wilson grew to be
about twenty years old he got married and still lived
with Mr. Dave Wilson (the white man) and worked on
the farm. About three years ago Jack Wilson took his
family and went into the mountains to cut wood for Mr.
Wilson. One day while at work he heard a great noise
which appeared to be above him, on the mountain. He
laid down his axe and started to go in the direction of
the noise, when he fell down dead, and that God came
and took him to heaven, and showed him everything
there ; that it was the most beautiful country you could
imagine ; that he saw both Indians and whites, who were
all young; that God told him that when the people died
here on this earth, if they were good they came to
Heaven, and he made them young again, and they never
grew to be old afterwards ; that the people up there were
\
410 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK,
º
dancing, gambling, playing ball and having all kinds of
sports; that the country was nice and level and green
all the time ; that there were no rocks or mountains
there, but all kinds of game and fish ; that God brought
him back and laid him down where he had taken him
from.
He woke up and went to camp and went to bed.
God came to him again that night and told him to tell
all the people that they must not fight, there must be
peace all over the world ; that the people must not steal
from one another, but be good to each other, for they
were all brothers, and when he had finished his work
God would come after him again. God came and took
him to Heaven again, and he saw all the Indians and
white people who had died heretofore, that they were all
young and having a good time, dancing, etc.; that he
saw his own mother; that God had given him great power
and authority to do many things ; that he could cause it
to rain or snow at will, and many other things; that
they would learn hereafter that God directed him on his
return to say to his people that they must meet often
and dance five nights in succession, and then stop for
three months.
Josephus (Captain of the police) said : At this time
I did not believe in the new Messiah, and thought I
would try his power over the elements, as the country
was very much in need of rain, that unless they got rain
they would have no crops of any kind, and it looked as
though there was going to be great suffering amongst
the people.
THE SOUTH DAKOTA ouTBREAK. 411
So Josephus concluded he would visit the new Mes-
siah and ask him to give them rain, or otherwise they
would suffer. He took his horse and rode to the new
Messiah's home, arriving there late in the evening, and
explained to him the importance of his mission. He said
that Jack Wilson sat with his head bowed but never
spoke a word during all this time, but he went off to
bed and was up early the next morning. When he came
in where Josephus was he said to him:
“You can go home, and on the morning of the third
day you and all the people will have plenty of water.”
Josephus said that he went home and told not only
his people but the white people, too, and shortly after-
wards it commenced to rain, and on the morning of the
third day he got up at daylight to find Walker river out
of its banks and all the lowlands overflown.
“Now,” said Josephus, “I am a strong believer in
the unnatural powers of the new Christ.”
Ben Ab-he-gan, of the Indian police, was present
during all the time that Josephus was making this state-
ment, and corroborated every word spoken. I will state
here that Mr. J. O. Gregory and Mr. Peas, employes
of the agency, were both present during this interwiew
with Josephus, and corroborated his statement in regard
to the water. " In fact, all the white people I talked with
about the agency and in Mason and Smith valleys, ad-
mitted that the rain did come, but they can not convince
the Indians that Jack Wilson had nothing to do with its
coming. Some of the Indians of his own tribe, and those
of the adjoining tribes, were inclined to look upon the
412 THE SOUTH DAROTA O UTBREAK.
new Messiah (Jack Wilson) as an imposter, and he sent
them word to come and see him and hear him talk, and
he would convince them. This invitation has been the
cause of many Indians visiting the Piutes and taking
part in their dances.
Among the tribes that have been represented there,
so I was informed by Josephus and Ben Ab-he-gan (both
of the police force at Walker Lake) are as follows:
Cheyennes, Sioux, Arapahoes, Utes, Navajoes, Shoshones,
Bannocks, and a tribe to the south of them that they
call the Umpaws. I was told that the Indians numbered
about sixteen hundred at the big dance near Walker
Lake, and were fed on pine nuts and fish principally
during the meeting. Learning that the new Messiah was
at his home, at the head of Mason Valley, I took the
train and came back on the road as far as Wabuska,
where I took the stage for Mason, arriving there at 5
o'clock in the evening. e *
I had not been in the place long before I learned
through Ben, the Indian policeman, who had come with
me from Walker Lake, that Jack Wilson had gone two
days before to Desert Creek Valley, distant sixty miles,
and across one range of mountains. I had made arrange-
ments for a team the next morning, and taking Indian
Ben with me, started at 6 o'clock for Desert Creek Wal-
ley. After traveling thirty miles on the Desert Creek
road we met some Indians on this road coming up from
Bodie, California. They told us that they had camped
at Desert creek the night before and learned that Jack
Wilson, the Messiah, had gone to Wellington, on the
THE SOUTH DAKOTA ouTBREAK, 413
west fork of Walker river. We changed our course for
Wellington, arriving there late in the evening. I sent
for Jack Wilson to come down to Mr. Pierce's house, as
the weather was not suitable for holding outdoor meetings,
it raining and snowing alternately. He put in his ap-
pearance and I was introduced to him by Captain Ben,
the Indian policeman. We shook hands, Jack Wilson
remarking that he was glad to see me. I responded,
saying that I surely was glad to meet one of such no-
toriety, and that I heard a great deal of him through the
newspapers, and would like to ask him a few questions,
which I hoped he would answer freely.
Question. What is your name?
Answer. Jack Wilson.
Q. What is your Indian name?
A. Quoitze Ow.
Q. What tribe of Indians do you belong to
A. Piutes. y
Q. About how old are you ?
A. About thirty years old.
Q. Is your father living 3
A. Yes.
Q. How many brothers have you ? .
A. Three, all younger than myself.
Q. Have you ever been away from your own
country :
A. No.
Q. Are you a chief ?
A. Yes, I am Chief of all the Indians who sent
representatives to me.
414 THE SOUTH DAKOTA ouTBREAK.
Q: What do you mean by chief of all the Indians?
Do you mean that you are Head Chief?
A. No, I mean that I am Council Chief.
Q. How many Indians are there in your tribe
A. I do not know. *.
Q. When did you commence to preach to the In-
dians?
A. About three years ago.
Q. What did you preach to the Indians?
He then stated in substance about the same as
Josephus, captain of the Indian police at Walker Lake,
had told me about going to heaven and seeing all the
people who had died here on this earth, and what a nice
place it was, the dancing and other sports, etc.; that
God had visited him several times since and told him
what to do; that he must send out woºd to all the
Indians to come and hear him, and he would convince
them that he was preaching the truth; that he must tell
the Indians that they must work all the time and not
lie down in idleness; that they must not fight the white
people or one another; that we are all brothers and
must remain in peace; that God gave him the power to
cause it to snow or rain at his will; that God told him
or gave him the power to destroy this world and all the
people in it, and to have it made over again; and the
people who had been good heretofore were to be made
over again and all remain young; that God told him
that they must have their dances more often, and dance
five nights in succession and then stop. * * * That
their dancing would commence again next Saturday.
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK. 415
Said he: “This country was all dry early last spring
there was nothing growing, and the prospects for the
future were very discouraging to both the Indians and
the whites, and they came to me and asked me for rain
to make their crops grow. I caused a small cloud to
appear in the heavens, which gave rain for all, and they
were satisfied. I think that all white men should pay
me for things of this kind, some two dollars, others five,
ten, twenty-five and fifty, according to their means. I
told all the head men who came to see me (meaning
the representatives of other tribes) that when they went
home to say to their people that they must keep their
peace ; that if they went to fighting that I would help
the soldiers to make them stop.” That the people (whites)
of this country do not treat him and his people right;
that they do not give them anything to eat unless they
pay for it. If the whites would treat him right he would
have it rain in the valley and snow on the mountains,
during the winter, so the farmers would have good crops.
Captain Sam and Johnson Sides, two Piute Indians
who did not believe in his doctrine, he said, are tell-
ing all over the country that the soldiers were coming
to take him and put him in a big iron box, and take
him out to sea on a big ship and sink him in the
ocean; that he wanted them to stop talking to the
people in this way, and not be afraid, but come and
talk to him; that he hired out to white men all the
time; that he liked to work.
Mr. Wilson, I want to ask you one or two more
questions, and that will be all.
416 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
Q. Did you tell the Indians that if they got into
trouble with the whites that they must not be afraid,
that you would protect them against being hurt
A. That was my dream; it has not come to pass
yet. *
Q. Did you tell them that you were bullet-proof,
and to prove it you spread a blanket on the ground and
stood upon it, with nothing on you except a calico shirt,
and had your brother shoot at you at a distance of ten
feet, and the ball struck your breast and dropped to
the blanket 7
A. That was a joke.
He said: “I heard that soldiers were coming up
after me. I do not care about that; I would like to see
them. That is all I care to talk now. We are going to
have a dance next Saturday.” - -
In conclusion I would say that I saw three of their
dance grounds. . They had been cleared of sagebrush
and grass and made perfectly level, around the outer
edge of which the willow sticks were still standing, over
which they spread their tenting for shelter during these
ceremonies. The cleared ground must have been from
two to three hundred feet in diameter, and only about
four places left open to enter the grounds. The Piute
Indians, men and women, dress like the white people,
and equally as good as the average white man of that
country. The men part their hair in the middle and
have it cut square off even with the lower part of the
ear. The women have theirs banged, and are exceed-
ingly well dressed for Indian women.
W
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 417
The white people generally throughout the country
spoke well of the Piutes as an industrious and hard-
working people, but preferred to work for the white
people than for themselves. Only a few of the white
men, Mr. Pierce of Wellington, particularly, was sus-
picious of Wilson's doctrine, as it was giving him too
much influence, and he feared trouble in the end; that
he could see that the Indians were a little more exact-
ing every day. Only recently did one of them with all
his stock move into a white man’s field, and would not
go out when told to do so. When the white man threat-
ened to come down with his wagon and haul him out
if he did not go out himself, the Indian said: “You
had better bring a crowd if you attempt it.” The
Piutes are a very numerous and healthy tribe, and are
increasing very rapidly (so the whites tell me who have
been living there for the last thirty or forty years).
After gathering all the information I thought of in-
terest, I started on my return, arriving at Reno on the
4th instant, where I had a short interview with Johnson
Sides, who appeared to be very much opposed to the
doctrine preached by Jack Wilson; that he believed it to
be all lies, and that it was only exciting the Indians and
was liable to lead to trouble in the end.
In regard to the Cheyenne Indian, Porcupine, who
gave an account of his visit to the Piute camp at Walker
Lake, I will say that it is wonderfully correct, as far as
I am able to learn ; that on his visit he first met with
the Piutes at Winnemucca, and then at Wadsworth, OIl
the Central, Pacific Railroad, where he fell in with Cap-
418 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
tain Dave of the Piutes, who took him and his comrades
in a wagon and hauled them to Pyramid Lake Agency,
where they remained several days, when Captain Dave's
son took them in wagons and hauled them to Wabuska,
where they took the cars for Walker Lake. This was
told me by Captain Ben, one of the Indian police of
Walker Lake, and from other information I believe it to
be true.
Very respectfully,
Your obedient servant,
(Signed) A. I. CHAPMAN.
By the 20th of November there were at least six
thousand soldiers in the immediate vicinity of the threat-
ened war. Rumors of depredations flew about from camp
to camp, and from agency to agency. At one hour re-
ports came in that the Rosebud Indians had gathered in
force and were about to make an attack; the next, denials
poured in. Everything was uncertainty. Those who
visited the Indians to size up the situation came back
with every conceivable kind of report, but nearly all ad-
mitted that the Iudians claimed that they were frightened
by the coming of the troops, and did not know what to
do. Preparations among the Indians were making, but
the authorities could not understand what the intentions
of the redmen were. The authorities at Washington were
slow to act. But it was finally decided that the course to
persue was to arrest Sitting Bull and disarm all the In-
dians who remained outside the agencies.
Sitting Bull's camp was distant over forty miles from
Fort Yates on the Grand river. Those who spoke au-
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 419
thoritatively said Sitting Bull had signified his intention
of leaving his home, and this was construed into a threat
to join the hostile bands that were known to be moving
into the badlands. The ghost dances were continued
with unabated vigor. The half-crazed Indians were re-
ported to be dancing with war-bonnets on their heads
and weapons in their hands. Every breeze that blew
brought in its wake a breath of war, and the angry clouds
that hung over the heads of the unfortunate Indians
grew darker and darker. The arrest of Sitting Bull had
been fully determined upon, and probably no event of the
decade attracted more general attention. The author has
been favored with an account of Sitting Bull’s arrest and
killing, and the subsequent flight of the Uncapapas to
Big Foot's camp on Cheyenne river from the pen of Mr.
James McLaughlin, Indian Agent at Standing Rock in
1890, given upon request to Mr. Herbert Welsh, corres-
ponding secretary of the Indian Rights Association of
Philadelphia, Pa., which is hereby reproduced :
UNITED STATES INDIAN SERVICE, -
STANDING Rock AGENCY, NORTH DAKOTA, Jan. 12th, 1890.
My Dear Mr. Walsh:-Your letter of the 16th ultimo
WäS duly received, and should have been answered earlier,
but I have not had a moment to spare since its receipt.
The newspaper reports regarding the arrest and death
of Sitting Bull have nearly all been ridiculously absurd,
and the following is a statement of the facts :
I was advised by a telegram from the Indian Office,
dated November 14th, 1890, that the President had di-
rected the Secretary of War to assume a military respon-
420 THE SOUTH DAKOTA ouTBREAK,
sibility for the suppression of any threatened outbreak
among the Sioux Indians, and on December 1st, 1890,
another telegram instructed me that as to all operations
intended to suppress any outbreak by force, to “co-ope-
rate with and obey the orders of the military officers
commanding on the reservation.” This order made me
subject to the military authorities, and to whom I regu-
larly reported the nature of the “Messiah Craze” and
the temper of the Indians of the reservation. ‘.
As stated in my letter to you, dated November 25th
last, the Messiah doctrine had taken a firm hold upon
Sitting Bull and his followers, and that faction strove in
every way to engraft it in the other settlements; but by
close watching and activity of the police we prevented it
from getting a start in any of the settlements outside of
the upper Grand river, which districts were largely com-
posed of Sitting Bull's old followers, over whom he
always exerted a baneful influence, and in this craze they
fell easy victims to his subtlety, and believed blindly in
the absurdities he preached of the Indian millennium.
He promised them the return of their dead ancestors
and restoration of their old Indian life, together with the
removal of the white race; that the white man's gun-
powder could not throw a bullet with sufficient force in
the future to injure true believers; and even if Indians 3.
should be killed while obeying the call of the Messiah,
they would only be the sooner united with their dead
relatives, who were now all upon the earth (having re-
turned from the clouds), as the living and dead would
be reunited in the flesh next spring. You will readily
- THE SO ÚTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK. 421
understand what a dangerous doctrine this was to get
hold of a superstitious and semi-civilized people, and how
the more cunning “medicine men” would impose upon
the credulity of the average uncivilized Indian.
This was the status of the Messiah craze here on
November 16th, when I made a trip to Sitting Bull's camp,
which is forty miles southwest of the agency, to try and get
Sitting Bull to see the evils that a continuation of the
ghost dance would lead to, and the misery that it would
bring to his people. I remained over night in the settle-
ment, and visited him early next morning before they
commenced the dance, and had a long and apparently
satisfactory talk with him, and made some impression
upon a number of his followers who were listeners, but I
failed in getting him to come into the agency, where I
hoped to convince him by long argument.
Through Chiefs Gall, Flying-By and Gray Eagle, I
succeeded in getting a few to quit the dance, but the
In Ore We got to leave it the more aggressive Sitting Bull
became, so that the peaceable and well-disposed Indians
were obliged to leave the settlement, and could not pass
through it without being subjected to insult and threats.
The ghost dancers had given up industrial pur-
suits and abandoned their houses, and all moved into
camp in the immediate neighborhood of Sitting Bull's
house, where they consumed their whole time in the dance
and the purification vapor baths preparing for same, ex-
cept on every second Saturday, when they came to the
agency for their bi-weekly rations. Sitting Bull did not
come into the agency for rations after October 25th, but
422 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
sent members of his family, and kept a body guard when
he remained behind while the greater portion of his peo-
ple were away from the camp ; this he did to guard
against surprise in case an attempt to arrest him was
made. He frequently boasted to Indians, who reported
the same to me, that he was not afraid to die and wanted
to fight, but I considered this mere idle talk, and always
believed that when the time for his arrest came and the
police appeared in force in his camp, with men at their
head whom he knew to be determined, that he would
quietly accept the arrest and accompany them to the
agency, but the result of the arrest proved the contrary.
Since the Sioux commission of 1889 (the Foster,
Crook and Warner Commission,) Sitting Bull has behaved
very badly, growing more aggressive steadily, and the
Messiah doctrine, which united so many Indians in com-
mon cause, was just what he needed to assert himself as
“high priest,” and thus regain prestige and former pop-
ularity among the Sioux by posing as the leader of dis-
affection. He being in open rebellion against constituted
authority, was defying the Government and encouraging
disaffection, made it necessary that he be arrested and
removed from the reservation, and arrangements were
perfected for his arrest on December 6th, and everything
seemed favorable for its accomplishment without trouble
or bloodshed at that time ; but the question arose as to
whether I had authority to make the arrest or not, being
subject to the military, to settle which I telegraphed to
the Commissioner of Indian Affairs on December 4th,
and on the 5th received a reply which directed me to
THE SOUTH DAKOTA ouTBREAK, 423
make no arrests whatever, except under orders of the
military, or upon an order from the Secretary of the
Interior.
My reason for desiring to make the arrest on De-
cember 6th, was that it could be done then with the
greater assurance of success, and without alarming the
Indians to any great extent, as the major portion of them
would have been in for rations at the agency, forty miles
distant from where the arrest would have been made, and
I also foresaw, from the movements of the military, that
the order for his arrest would soon be issued, and that
another ration day (two weeks more) would have to elapse
before it could be so easily accomplished.
On December 12th the following telegram was re-
ceived by the Post Commander of Fort Yates, who fur-
nished me with a copy :
“HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF DAKOTA,
“St. PAUL, MINN., December 12th, 1890.
“To CoMMANDING OFFICER, Fort Yates, North Dakota:
“The Division Commander has directed that you
make it your especial duty to secure the person of Sit-
ting Bull. Call on Indian Agent to co-operate and render
such assistance as will best promote the purpose in view.
Acknowledge receipt, and if not perfectly clear, report
back.
“By command of General Ruger,
“(Signed) M. BARBER,
“Assistant Adjutant General.”
Upon receipt of the foregoing telegram, the Post
Commander sent for me, and held a consultation as to
424 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK,
the best means to effect the desired arrest. It was con-
trary to my judgment to attempt the arrest at any timé
other than upon one of the bi-weekly ration days, when
there would be but a few Indians in Sitting Bull's neigh-
borhood, thus lessening the chances of opposition or ex-
citement of his followers. The Post Commander saw the
wisdom of my reasoning, and consented to defer the arrest
until Saturday morning, December 20th, with the distinct
understanding, however, that the Indian police keep Sitting
Bull and his followers under strict surveillance, to prevent
their leaving the reservation, and report promptly any
suspicious movements among them. e
Everything was arranged for the arrest to be made
on December 20th; but on December 14th, at 4 p. m. a
policeman arrived at the agency from Grand River, who
brought me a letter from Lieutenant of Police Henry
Bull Head, the officer in charge of the force on Grand
River, stating that Sitting Bull was making preparations
to leave the reservation; that he had fitted his horses for
a long and hard ride, and that if he got the start of
them, he being well mounted, the police would be unable
to overtake him, and he therefore wanted permission to
make the arrest at once. I had just finished reading
Lieut. Bull Head’s letter, and commenced questioning
the courier who had brought it, when Col. Drum, the
Post Commander, came into my office to ascertain if I
had received any news from Grand River. I handed
him the letter which I had just received, and after read-
ing it, he said that the arrest could not be deferred longer
but must be made without further delay; and imme-
WOMAN'S DEESS.
S N2
3, C *

THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAA. 425 -
diate action was then decided upon, the plan being for
the police to make the arrest at break of day the fol-
lowing morning, and two troops of the Eighth Cavalry to
leave the Post at midnight, with orders to proceed on
the road to Grand River until they met the police with
their prisoner, whom they were to escort back to the
Post; they would thus be within supporting distance of
the police, if necessary, and prevent any attempted
rescue of Sitting Bull by his followers. 3.
I desired to have the police make the arrest, fully
believing that they could do so without bloodshed, while,
in the crazed condition of the ghost dancers, the mili-
tary could not; furthermore, the police accomplishing the
arrest would have a salutary effect upon all the Indians,
and allay much of the then existing uneasiness among
the whites. I, therefore, seat a courier to Lieut. Bull
Head, advising him of the disposition to be made of the
cavalry command which was to co-operate with him, and
directed him to make the arrest at daylight the follow-
ing morning. Acting under these orders, a force of
thirty-nine policemen and four volunteers (one of whom
was Sitting Bull's brother-in-law, “Gray Eagle,”) entered
the camp at daybreak on December 16th, proceeding
direct to Sitting Bull's house, which ten of them entered,
and Lieut. Bull Head announced to him the object of
their mission. Sitting Bull accepted his arrest quietly at
first, and commenced dressing for the journey to the
agency, during which ceremony (which consumed con-
siderable time) his son, “Crow Foot,” who was in the
house, commenced berating his father for accepting the
436 THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUTBREAK,
arrest and consenting to go with the police; whereupon
he (Sitting Bull) got stubborn and refused to accompany
them. By this time he was fully dressed, and the police-
men took him out of the house; but, upon getting out-
side, they found themselves completely surrounded by
Sitting Bull's followers, all armed and excited. The
policemen reasoned with the crowd, gradually forcing
them back, thus increasing the open circle considerably;
but Sitting Bull kept calling upon his followers to rescue
him from the police; that if the two principal men,
“Bull Head” and “Shave Head,” were killed the others
would run away, and he finally called out to them to
commence the attack, whereupon “Catch the Bear” and
“Strike the Kettle,” two of Sitting Bull's men, dashed.
through the crowd and fired. Lieut. “Bull Head” was
standing on one side of Sitting Bull and First Sergt.
“Shave Head” on the other, with Second Sergt. “Red Tom-
ahawk” behind, to prevent his escaping; “Catch the
Bear's" shot struck Bull Head in the right side, and he
instantly wheeled and shot Sitting Bull, hitting him in
the left side between the tenth and eleventh ribs, and
“Strike the Kettle's" shot having passed through Shave
Head’s abdomen, all three fell together. “Catch the
Bear,” who fired the first shot, was immediately shot
down by private of police “Lone Man,” and the fight
then became general—in fact, a hand-to-hand conflict—
forty-three policemen and volunteers against about one
hundred and fifty crazy ghost dancers. The fight lasted
about half an hour, but all the casualties, except that of
Special Policeman John Armstrong, occurred in the first
c 2
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK. 427
A
few minutes. The police soon drove the Indians from
around the adjacent buildings, and then charged and
drove them into the adjoining woods, about forty rods
distant, and it was in this charge that John Armstrong
was killed by an Indian secreted in a clump of brush.
ſ)uring the fight women attacked the police with knives
and clubs, but in every instance they simply disarmed
them and placed them under guard in the houses near
by until the troops arrived, after which they were given
their freedom. Had the women and children been
brought into the agency there would have been no stam-
pede of the Grand River people; but the men, realizing
the enormity of the offense they had committed by at-
tacking the police, as soon as their families joined them,
fied up Grand River, and then turned south to the
Morian and Cheyenne Rivers.
The following is a list of the killed and wounded
casualties of the fight:
Henry Bull Head, First Lieutenant of Police, died
eighty-two hours after the fight.
Charles Shave Head, First Sergeant of Police, died
twenty-five hours after the fight.
James Little Eagle, Fourth Sergeant of Police, killed
in the fight.
Paul Afraid-of-Soldiers, Private of Police, killed in
the fight.
John Armstrong, Special Police, killed in the fight.
David Hawkman, Special Police, killed in the fight.
Alexander Middle, Private of Police, wounded, re-
covering.
428 ATHE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAA
Sitting Bull, killed, 56 years of age. ;
Crow Foot (Sitting Bull's son), killed, 17 years
of age. ,
Black Bird, killed, 43 years of age.
Catch the Bear, killed, 44 years of age.
Spotted Horn Bull, killed, 56 years of age.
Brave Thunder, No. 1, killed, 46 years of age.
Little Assiniboine, killed, 44 years of age. (Sitting
Bull's adopted brother.)
Chase Wounded, killed, 44 years of age.
Bull Ghost, wounded, entirely recovered.
Brave Thunder, No. 2, wounded, recovering rapidly.
Strike the Kettle, wounded.
This conflict, which cost so many lives, is much to
be regretted, yet the good resulting therefrom can
scarcely be overestimated, as it has effectually eradicated
all seeds of dissatisfaction sown by the Messiah craze
among the Indians of this agency, and has also demon-
strated to the people of the country the fidelity and
loyalty of the Indian police in maintaining law and
order on the reservation.
Everything is now quiet at this agency, and good
feeling prevails among the Indians, newspaper reports to
the contrary notwithstanding. No Indians have left
this agency since the stampede of December 15th, fol-
lowing the conflict with the police, and no others will.
There were three hundred and seventy-two men, WOIOleI).
and children left at that time, of whom about one
hundred and twenty are males over sixteen years of
age, and of whom two hundred and twenty-seven are
THE SOUTH DAKOTA ouTBREAK, 429
now prisoners at Fort Sully, and seventy-two are re-
ported to have been captured at Pine Ridge Agency
Some time ago.
With kind regards, I have the honor to be very re-
spectfully, your obedient servant,
JAMES McLAUGHLIN,
Indian Agent.
Capt. E. G. Fechet of the Eighth Cavalry (now Major
of the Sixth Cavalry, stationed at Fort McKinney, Wyo-
ming), who commanded the detachment charged with the
duty of executing the order of Sitting Bull’s arrest, re-
ported under date of December 17, 1890, to the Post
Adjutant at Fort Yates as follows concerning the part
his command took in carrying out the order of Gen.
Miles:
For the information of the commanding officer I
have the honor to report the operations of the battalion
of the Eighth Cavalry, under my command for the
purpose indicated in Orders No. 24.7% of this Post.
The command consisted of Troop F, Eighth Cavalry,
Lieutenants Slocum and Steele, , and forty-eight enlisted
men; Troop G, Eighth Cavalry, Captain Fechet, Lieutenants
E. H. Crowder and C. E. Brooks, and fifty-one enlisted
men; Captain A. R. Chaplain, Medical Officer, and Acting
Hospital Steward August Nickel, two Indian scouts,
Smell the Bear and Iron Dog; Mr. Louis Primeau, Indian
Department, Standing Rock Agency, guide and interpreter.
One gattling gun was attached to G Troop and one
*Orders No. 247 will be found at end of Maj. Fechet's Report.
430 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
breech-loading steel Hotchkiss gun was attached to Troop
F. There was furnished the command one four-horse
spring wagon, carrying one day’s cooked rations and one
day’s grain for the whole command, and one red cross
ambulance.
The commanding officers were Capt. E. Fechet, com-
manding battalion ; Lieut. E. H. Crowder, commanding G
troop ; Lieut. S. L’H. Slocum, commanding F troop;
Lieut. E. C. Brooks, commanding field artillery.
The command moved out at midnight, December the
14th, and by rapid marching was by daylight within three
miles of Sitting Bull's camp, which is fully from forty-
one to forty-two miles from Fort Yates. After daybreak
I expected every minute to meet the Indian police with
Sitting Bull their prisoner, it having been arranged by
Major McLaughlin, Indian Agent, that they would make
a decent on Bull's camp about daybreak, arresting Bull
and delivering him to me for conduct to this Post. It
will be seen by reference to the first paragraph of the
order that the command was to proceed only to the cross-
ing of Oak river, which was eighteen miles from Bull's
Camp.
After receiving this order, on consultation with Col.
Drum, commanding the Post, it was decided that I should
move as close to Bull’s camp as possible without dis-
covery, and there await the police. A short time after
dawn a mounted man was discovered approaching rapidly.
This proved to be one of the police, who reported that
all the other police had been killed. The substance of
his report, with the additional statement that I should
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK. 431
move rapidly and endeavor to relieve any of the police
who might be alive, I forwarded to the commanding
officer.
The command was at once put in condition for im-
mediate action. A light but extended line of skirmishers
was thrown in advance ; the main body was disposed in
two columns, in column of fours, about three hundred
yards apart, the artillery between the heads of columns.
A few minutes after making these dispositions another of
the police came in and reported that Bull's people had a
number of the police penned up in his house. The com-
mand was moved with all speed to a point on the high
lands overlooking the valley of Grand river, and immedi-
ately opposite Sitting Bull's house and the camp of the
ghost dancers, distant some 1,500 yards.
A hasty examination showed a party of Indians,
apparently forty or fifty, at a high point on our right
front, some 900 yards distant, but whether a party of
police and friends or Bull's people could not be deter-
mined. While trying to make out the position and
identity of the two parties there were a few shots fired
by the party on the hill, and replied to from Sitting
Bull's house. There was also firing from the woods be-
yond Bull's house, but on whom directed it was impossi-
ble to tell. I caused a white flag to be erected on the
crest where I was located (a prearranged signal between
the soldiers and the police), and directed a few shots to
be fired from the Hotchkiss into the woods mentioned.
In answer a white flag was displayed from Bull's house,
and Indians were seen leaving the woods going in the
432 THE SOUTH DAR OTA OUTBREAA.
direction of the hills to the south, across Grand river.
The Hotchkiss gun was then turned upon the party on
our right front ; this, with some fire from a dismounted
line of F troop, caused them to retreat rapidly from their
position up the valley of Grand river to the northwest.
Lieutenant Slocum, with his troop dismounted, was
ordered to advance immediately upon the house. Lieut.
Crowder, with G Troop mounted, moved rapidly to the
right along the highlands, covering the right flank of the
dismounted line. As the dismounted line approached the
house the police came out and joined the command. The
line was advanced through the timber, dislodging a few
hostiles, who disappeared rapidly up the river through the
willows. This line, after advancing through the willows
seme six hundred yards, fell back to the immediate vicin-
ity of Sitting Bull's house, leaving pickets at the farthest
points gained by the advance.
Lieutenant Crowder, in the meantime, observing the
Indians gathering at houses up the river about two miles
from Sitting Bull’s camp, moved in pursuit of them. The
Indians fell back from every point upon the approach of
the troops, not showing any desire to engage in hostile
actions against the soldiers. All the houses for a distance
of about two miles were examined, and all were found
deserted, but showed signs of recent occupation. Failing
to come up with the Indians in this direction, G Troop
fell back and joined the main command at Sitting Bull's
lodge.
Upon arriving at this place I found evidence of a
most desperate encounter between the agency police and
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK. 433
Sitting Bull's followers. In the vicinity of the house,
within a radius of fifty yards, there were found the dead
bodies of eight hostiles, including Sitting Bull. Two
horses were also killed. Within the house were found
four dead and three wounded policeman. It was learned
through the interpreter that the hostile Indians had car-
Tied away with them one of their dead and five or six
wounded, making an approximate total of fifteen casual-
ties in Sitting Bull’s band. A list of casualties, by name,
on both sides are hereto attached.
From the best evidence obtainable I am led to be.
lieve that the police, under the command of Bull Head
and Shave Head, about forty strong, entered Sitting Bull's
camp about 5:50 a. m. on the 15th instant, for the pur-
pose of making the arrest of Sitting Bull. Sitting Bull
was taken from his house, and while the police were part
leying with him, endeavoring to induce him to submit
peacefully, Bull Head was shot by Catch the Bear in the
leg. Bull Head immediately shot and killed Sitting Bull,
when the melee became general, with the results hereto-
fore given. The fight lasted but a few moments, when
the police secured the house and stable adjoining, driving
Sitting Bull's men from the village to cover in the ad-
joining woods and hills. From these positions the fight
was kept up until about 7:30 a. m., when the troops came
up. I learn that soon after the occupation of the house
and stable by the police, volunteers were called for to
carry a report of the situation back to the approaching
troops. Hawk Man offered to perform this perilous ser-
vice, and at the imminent risk of his life. Assisted by
434 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
Red Tomahawk, he effected his escape, being shot through
his coat and gloves while engaged in the attempt. This
was the first scout met by the command.
My orders were explicit as to the arrest of Sitting
Bull, but contemplated no pursuit of his band. I there-
fore did not feel authorized to follow the Indians up the
valley, especially as I felt satisfied, from the report of
Lieutenant Crowder, that it would only result, unneces-
sarily, in frightening peaceful Indians away from their
homes, and that the withdrawal of the troops, together
with the message I communicated to the Indians to the
effect that only the capture of Sitting Bull was desired,
would tend to re-assure those who were loyally disposed
toward their agent.
Accordingly I gave orders for the command to with-
draw to Oak creek, of which the commanding officer
was informed by courier, with the request that he com-
municate his further orders to me at that point. Previous
to leaving, word was sent up and down the valley
to the friendly Indians of this movement, in order that
they might avail themselves of the protection of the
troops in their withdrawal to the agency, which they did
in considerable numbers. All the dead Indian police,
together with their wounded, and the body of Sitting
Bull, were brought in by me.
Upon reaching Oak creek, at 6 p. m., I was met
by a courier, who informed me that the commanding
officer of Fort Yates, with two companies of infantry
and ten days’ supplies, would reach Oak creek some time
in the night. Upon their arrival at 12 o'clock I turned
over the command.
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK. 435
The attention of the commanding officer is invited
to the celerity of this movement. In brief, the command
marched from here to Sitting Bull's camp and back to
Oak creek in seventeen hours. This, with the ground
covered in getting into position, and the demonstration
to the right by Lieut. Crowder, made a total distance of
at least seventy miles. It must be taken into consider-
ation that the movement back to Oak creek, eighteen
miles, was made very slowly. Thus, it will be seen that
the march out, including the movements into position,
were made at a rate of over six miles an hour. During
the whole march the column moved steadily, without
stretching out or closing up — a most satisfactory com-
mentary upon the drill and discipline of the two troops
composing my command. To say less would be a want
of appreciation on my part of the command under my
orders.
E. G. FECHET,
Captain Eighth Cavalry, Commanding.
*ORDERS No. 247.
Fort YATEs, N. D., December 14, 1890.
2. Captain E. G. Fechet, Eighth Cavalry, will proceed
With troops F and G, Eighth Cavalry, the Hotchkiss gun
and one gattling gun, to the crossing of Oak creek by the
Sitting Bull road, for the purpose of preventing the escape
or rescue of Sitting Bull, should the Indian police suc-
ceed in arresting him.
The command will move out at 12 o'clock midnight,
in light marching order, and will be supplied with fifty
436 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
rounds of carbine and twelve rounds of revolver ammuni-
tion per man, 4,000 rounds of ammunition for Gattling
gun, 25 rounds for Hotchkiss gun, cooked rations and
one day’s forage.
After receiving the prisoner Captain Fechet, will
return with his command to this Post, reporting to the
commanding officer on arrival.
If, on arrival at Oak creek, Captain Fechet learns
that the police are fighting or need assistance, he will
push on, and if necessary, follow Sitting Bull as long as
possible with his supplies, keeping the post commander
informed by courier of his movements.
The march will be so regulated as to reach Oak
creek by 6:30 o'clock a. m., to-morrow, the 15th instant.
Should arrest be made, every precaution will be taken to
prevent escape or rescue.
Two Indian scouts will accompany the command.
Assistant Surgeon A. R. Chapin, Medical Department, will
report to Captain Fechet for duty with the expedition.
First Lieutenant S. L’H. Slocum, with Troop F, will
report to Captain Fechet for orders.
Second Lieutenant E. C. Brooks, Eighth Cavalry, will
also report to Captain Fechet for duty with the expedi-
tion.
One hospital ambulance, with necessary supplies, will
accompany the expedition, the Quartermaster's Depart-
ment furnishing the necessary team.
By order of Lieutenant Colonel W. F. Drum:
E. C. BROOKS,
Second Lieutenant, Eighth Cavalry, Post Adjutant.
THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUTBREAK, 437
The killing of Sitting Bull was hailed with delight
by people generally, but not by the Indians. The fears
entertained by the redmen when the soldiers first put
in an appearance about the agencies did not seem to
be groundless, now that a once mighty man of their
nation had been, as they were led to believe, ruth-
lessly slain. Wild with excitement and filled with re-
ligious zeal over the announced appearance of their
promised Messiah, and haunted by the fear that they
were to be first disarmed and afterward butchered, it is
hardly to be wondered at that they should combine to
protect themselves.
Chief Big Foot, whom the government seems to
have marked out from the first as a disturber, was re-
lated, both by birth and marriage, to many of the In-
dians who had escaped from the scene of the Sitting
Bull killing, and when they came to his camp, clad in
rags and literally starving, the old chief took them in
and fed them, and his people gave them shelter. Deny,
if you will, that the Indian nature is wanting of all the
attributes of humanity, but do not try to reconcile it
with this act of poor old Chief Big Foot, who, when
asked by Colonel Sumner why he had permitted the
Standing Rock refugees to enter his camp, replied:
“What else could I do & They came to me almost
naked, were hungry, footsore and weary, many of them
my brothers and relatives | *
The humanity of this savage stirred the better im-
pulses of Colonel Sumner's heart. He had met, where
he had expected to find hostility, a living exemplification
438 THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUTBREAR.
of the Divine command. The weary had been rested;
the hungry fed. No wonder, then, that Colonel Sum-
ner was convinced that Chief Big Foot did not mean to
join the hostiles in the badlands, and permitted him and
his people to remain in their homes. But because he
did this, he brought upon himself the censure of his
Superiors. Let the military man tell his own story.
In his report, under date of February 3d, 1891, to the
Assistant Adjutant General, Department of Dakota,
Colonel Sumner says:
I have the honor to acknowledge receipt of your
communication directing me to submit a report of the
flight of Big Foot's band from Cheyenne river and all
circumstances connected therewith. In compliance there-
with I respectfully submit the following statement:
On my arrival on Cheyenne river, December 3d, rein-
forcing the command there under Captain Hennissee,
Eighth Cavalry, with D Troop, Eighth Cavalry, I took
command of troops in the field. This command, then,
was C, D and I Troops, Eighth Cavalry, and F Company,
Third Infantry (later C Company, Third Infantry), and
two Hotchkiss guns. My instructions were set forth in
Post Orders No. 254, dated Fort Meade, S. D., November
29th, and telegraphic instructions from Headquarters De-
partment of Dakota, attached copy herewith presented.
In compliance with these instructions I moved the camp
up the Cheyenne river nearer to Smithville, and opened
a trail directly east over the hills and established an out-
post at Davidson’s ranch, twenty miles east of my camp
at head of Deep creek, and on the trail between Big
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK. 439
Foot's village and Pine Ridge. This trail was not prac-
ticable for wagons, but could have been used by cavalry,
and the outpost was established to give information of
any Indians passing north or south.
My orders specified protection to settlers on Belle
Fourche and vicinity, as well as a watch on Big Foot's
camp. A few days after my arrival most of the chiefs
and head men called to see me, including Big Foot.
They remained two days about my camp, and, without
exception, seemed not only willing but anxious to obey
my orders to remain quietly at home, and particularly
wished me to inform my superiors that they were all on
the side of the Government in the trouble then going on.
This information was furnished December 8th, by letter
dated Camp Cheyenne, December 8th ; also in letter from
same camp, dated December 12th ; also in letter from
same camp, dated December 16th. Frequent communica-
tion, and always friendly, was kept up with all these
leaders until about December 15, when Big Foot came
to my camp to say good-by, as he and all his men,
Women and children were going to Bennett for their an-
nuities, again assuring me that none of the Cheyenne
River Indians had any intentions or thoughts of joining
the hostiles at Pine Ridge.
Notwithstanding this assurance, however, I was at
that time impressed with the idea that Big Foot was
making an extraordinary effort to keep his followers
quiet, and seemed much relieved at having succeeded in
getting them to go to Bennett. With this impression on
my mind it appeared to me that he required' at that time
440 THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUTBREAK,
all the support I could give him, and I never failed, in
the presence of his own men and others, to show good
feeling and the utmost confidence. About this date came
the telegram from department headquarters, dated, Decem-
ber 16th. Under the circumstances, and owing to the
delicate situation of affairs at that moment, as described
above, viz., my belief that Big Foot could alone control
the young men, and was doing so under my advice and
support, I thought it best to allow him to go to Bennett
a free man, and so informed Division Commander by tel-
egraph December 18; also telegram to department head-
quarters same date; also telegram to Division Commander
at Rapid City dated December 19th. I invite special
attention to this dispatch, as showing that every effort
was being made to keep informed, to inform my super-
iors, and to make the most of my command, and in this
connection see copy of dispatch to General Carr, Sixth
Cavalry, dated December 19th ; also letter to Mr. Dunn
same date, on Belle Fourche. On this day, December
19th, later in the day, intelligence reached me from a de-
tachment sent down the river to look after Standing
Rock Indians, that the Cheyenne River Indians had
stopped on their way down to Bennett, and had assembled
at Hump’s camp to meet Sitting Bull.
On receiving this information from the officer in ad-
vance, Lieutenant Duff, Eighth Cavalry, I marched at once
down the river with two troops of cavalry and one com-
pany of infantry, reinforced to fifty men and two Hotch-
kiss guns, and was soon in support of the troop, Good-
win's Eighth Cavalry, near Big Foot's camp. On Decem-
PRETTY EAGLE AND SHOSHONE FRIEND.

THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK. 441
ber 20th reached Narseilles ranch and went into camp,
and there received a letter from Big Foot stating that he
was my friend and wished to talk. December 21st, made
an early start to join Goodwin’s command, and to either
fight or capture Big Foot if any resistance was offered.
While on the march, and four miles east of Narseilles,
Big Foot came to me, bringing with him two Standing
Rock Indians. He expressed a desire to comply with any
orders I had to give, and said all his men would do the
same. I asked at once how many Indians were in his
camp. He replied one hundred of his own and thirty-
eight Standing Rock Indians. I asked why he had re-
ceived the latter, knowing them to be off their reserva-
tion and refugees. His reply was certainly humane, if not
a sufficient excuse, and was to the effect that they were
brothers and relations; that they had come to him and
his people almost naked, were hungry, footsore and weary;
that he had taken them in, had fed them, and no one
with any heart could do any less. The Standing Rock
Indians with Big Foot, that is, those whom I saw, an-
swered his description perfectly, and were, in fact, so pitia-
ble a sight that I at once dropped all thought of their
being hostile or even worthy of capture. Still my instruc-
tions were to take them, and I intended doing so. Since
the flight of Big Foot and the fight at Wounded Knee,
I believe I was to some extent imposed upon in regard
to Standing Rock Indians, and I now think there were
perhaps some warriors with them who were kept out of
sight, but near enough to get food and to act in support
should a fight take place.
442 THE SOUTH DAROTA OUTBREAK,
However, everything went on quietly and I was not
aware of it if any other Indians than those in sight were
near us. I directed Capt. Hennissee, Eighth Cavalry, to
go to the Indian camp with Big Foot, get all the Indians
and return to my camp at Narseilles ranch, where I en-
camped on the night of the 21st. Goodwin’s troop was
called and at 3 p. m. Hennissee marched in with three
hundred and thirty-three Indians; the increase in num-
bers as given by Big Foot to me on the road being
something of a surprise. I arranged my camp accord-
ingly, and was fully prepared for anything that might
occur. The Indians went into camp as I directed, turned
out their ponies and made themselves comfortable while
preparing for the feast I had promised. The night passed
quietly, and on the morning of the 22d we all made an
early start for my home camp, Big Foot, at the time,
seeming willing to go there. On the march some of the
young bucks undertook to pass the advance guard, and
Lieut. Duff, the officer in charge, drove them back, and
in so doing deployed a line faced to the rear. This
action seemed to frighten some of the Indians and the
squaws in the wagons whipped up, threw out some of
their loads and screamed, and this excitement was soon
communicated down the column. I rode at once to the
head, found Big Foot, who was driving his wagon, and
asked him what this excitement meant. He laughed, and
in reply said: “Nothing the matter; some old woman
screamed.” I told him to have it stopped, and he at
once got on his pony, rode about and allayed all con-
fusion, and the march continued to the village.
'tfſ
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 443
[Col. Sumner here introduces copies of his dispatches
sent to division and department commanders on the 19th,
21st and 22d December.] In that of the 19th, I state
Indians were reported to me as defiant. That report was
false, and I did not find them to be so. In another dis-
patch I used the term surrender more in anticipation of
what might have taken place.
When the meeting took place there seemed to be no
occasion for surrender, and in all later dispatches I relate
the fact that the Indians “come in,” and all statements
in those dispatches are based on the supposition that I
had only to deal with one hundred and thirty-eight In-
dians, whereas the number coming in was three hundred
and thirty-three. Still, as will be observed in dispatch
of December 21st, I hoped to carry out my designs with
even that number, but on arrival at the village I saw
that Big Foot himself could not control or overcome the
desire they all had to go to their homes, and he came
frankly to me and said:
“I will go with you to your camp, but there will
be trouble in trying to force these women and children,
cold and hungry as they are, away from their homes.”
And further said: “This is their home, where the Gov-
ernment has ordered them to stay, and none of my peo-
ple have committed a single act requiring their removal
by force.”
I concluded that one of two things must happen —
I must either consent to their going into their village or
bring on a fight; and, if the latter, must be the aggressor,
and, if the aggressor, what possible reason could I pro-
444 THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUTBREAK.
duce for making an attack on peaceable, quiet Indians
On their reservation and at their homes, killing, perhaps,
many of them, and sacrificing, without any justification,
the lives of many officers and enlisted men. I confess
that my ambition was very great, but it was not sufficient
to justify me in making an unprovoked attack on those
Indians at that time, and even if an attack had been
made to enforce my wishes, the result would have only
been to have driven the Indians out of the country sooner
than they did go. I was prepared to fight at any mo-
ment should provocation be afforded, but with my small
force I could not have surrounded the Indians, nor could
I have prevented their fleeing from me and going to the
badlands, or even to the hostile camp, with a reasonable
demand for protection, which, in going as they did, they
did not have. - -
Dispatch (December 21) indicates the fear I had
of a sudden departure of the young men in a stealthy
manner. I considered that Big Foot's presence and in-
fluence with them would be more powerful to prevent
that than anything I could do ; he was, as it were,
working with me to accomplish my ends, and I had every
confidence that he would be able to hold his people on
the reservation, and also to deliver the Standing Rock
Indians to me, as he promised to do, and as I still be-
lieved he desired to do. It was not practicable at that
time to select the thirty-eight Standing Rock Indians out
of the crowd, as no one but the Indians themselves
knew who they were. I therefore, for the reasons stated,
left Big Foot with his people, and in connection with
THE SOUTH DARO TA OUTBREAK. 445
such action I believe I was acting in accordance with
many precedents of early timers of later years, and with
those established at Pine Ridge in the present campaign,
where, even in the presence of a much larger force pro-
portionately than I had, Indians were allowed to be
friendly one day and hostile the next, and then to return
to a friendly status. It is fair to presume that those
Indians who surrounded and fired upon the Seventh Cav-
alry December 30th came from the hostile camp and re-
turned to it again.
Leaving Big Foot, then, with his people in his village,
but taking his promise to see me the next day and bring
with him the Standing Rock Indians, I returned to my
camp, and purposely all the way there, to establish confi-
dence, after the excitement on the march, which might
have been continued, or perhaps increased, had I en-
camped and taken up an offensive position near the
village, but which was no doubt allayed by my apparent
reliance on the chief, whom I was bound at that time,
either to support or fight. Up to that time I had no
reason to doubt the integrity of the chief ; on the other
hand, had every reason to believe in the sincerity of his
motives. I decided to trust him, and in doing so was
wholly unmindful of orders received, and desirous only
of accomplishing what I understood to be the wishes of
my superiors, especially those of the Division Com-
mander, believing that his plans were to settle matters,
if possible, without bloodshed.
I have already stated what in my opinion would
have occurred if I had taken the other course. While in
446 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK,
my camp on the night of 22d and 23d, I received the
dispatch from General Miles. I had no thought of the
escape of the Indians as a body, but was only anxious
lest a few warriors should run away, and I supposed I
had taken the best precaution against that, and was there-
fore obeying orders. The information relative to In-
dians from the north made me hesitate to leave my
camp at all, but I hoped to accomplish matters with Big
Foot on the 23d — get him started for Bennett and hurry
back to camp, although I marched towards the village
with every soldier I could take, and fully intended to
enforce my orders for Bennett and make any refusal
sufficient provocation to fight, and in that extremity take
the chances on the call to Meade. My anxiety at this
time to meet all the calls made upon me is apparent in
dispatches to General Miles dated 22d and 23d.
At noon on 23d December, not hearing anything
from Big Foot or from any of my scouts who had been
sent to the village, I had ordered the march of my
command, and was about moving when Mr. Dunn, a
citizen living on Belle Fourche and friend of Big Foot's,
appeared at my camp. I obtained Mr. Dunn’s service
to go to the village and see what was going on, and
instructed him to take my order to Big Foot to go with
his people to Bennett, and also to say to Big Foot
that I would enforce the order. What Mr. Dunn said
or did is a question. I was at one time inclined to be-
lieve that Mr. Dunn had played me false, but he is a man
of good reputation, and from his statement and state-
ments of officers who have seen and interviewed him
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 447
since, I am now sure that I did him an injustice, and
| I do not believe or claim that Mr. Dunn was in any
|* responsible for events which afterwards occurred.
| Mr. Dunn after seeing Big Foot, met me on the
march and informed me that Big Foot and all his peo-
ple had consented to go to Bennett—that there was a
good deal of feeling among them—no desire to fight or
in any way to oppose my orders, and that they would
move next morning. Big Foot intended to visit my
camp that evening. I had no suspicion, nor had anyone
else in my command, that anything else would happen.
This record shows what confidence I already had in Big
Foot, and certainly Mr. Dunn’s report was not calculated
to weaken it; besides this I had still later reports from
my interpeter, Benoit, who left the village after Dunn,
that everything was all right and everybody going to
Bennett.
About 7 p. m. two scouts came in, one stating that
he thought the Indians were going south, and the other
expressed a belief that although they were going up
Deep creek, he thought they would turn towards Bennett
after reaching the divide, and that they did this to es-
cape the soldiers coming up the Cheyenne River from
Bennett. On the possibility that they had gone south
I sent the dispatch to Col. Carr, Sixth Cavalry, dated
23d, and also dispatch to Gens. Miles and Ruger. On
the morning of December 24th, I received dispatch from
Gen. Miles dated 23d. It will be observed that in this
dispatch Big Foot is considered both hostile and defiant
by the Division Commander, and that positive orders
448 THE SOUTH DAKOTA ouTBREAK,
were sent me for action against him, but those orders
came too late and could not be carried out.
The opinion of the Division Commander was quite
the reverse of my own experience with these Indians
and I may therefore be reasonably excused for not an-
ticipating such orders, and with the exception of the
dispatch from Gen. Ruger indicating the desirability of
arresting Big Foot, it will be difficult to find in any of
my orders or instructions any intimation of hostility on
the part of those Indians. On the other hand, all anx-
iety seemed to point to my preventing their becoming
hostile. I believe that duty was best performed in the
course pursued up to the time they left their reserva-
tion ; an event I did not look for, could not anticipate,
and could not have prevented.
Any move on my part to the south of Big Foot's
village would have left the settlements unguarded, the
citizens unprotected, who were by orders under my pro-
tection, and my supply camp on the river at the disposal
of the Indians on their way south by that route, instead
of the one they took. If Big Foot had been hostile and
defiant in attitude, I was not aware of it until receiving
the orders making him so and authorizing his arrest and
the arrest of others. My course would have been very
plain if I could have received these orders in time, or
could have known the wishes of the Division Commander.
The result, however, would probably have been the same,
as any display of hostile intent on my part would have
caused the Indians to flee, and I could not have inter-
posed any force to prevent.
THE SOUTH DAKOTA ouTBREAK, 449
The fact that even in the opinion of my superiors I
did not have sufficient force to do that, is, I believe, made
apparent in several dispatches from Department Head-
quarters stating that I would be reinforced first by Wells'
command, then by Adams' First Cavalry and Cheyenne
scouts, then by Colonel Merriam, Seventh Infantry—none
of whom ever reached me in time ; also in several of my
dispatches are reports that I did not have force enough
to guard the trails leading south. I did not ask for more
troops or for any reinforcements.
I never for a moment considered that my command
was not strong enough to meet any force likely to be
brought against it, but that is quite a different matter
from surrounding and capturing an enemy, especially of
the character of the Indian, who considers a surrender
merely a halt in the fight to be fed, but had no idea of
being disarmed. In the case of big Foot's band now
under consideration no surrender was made—no arms were
demanded. The march to the vicinity of Big Foot's
camp, situated down the Cheyenne river twenty-two miles
below his village, was for the purpose of arresting any
warriors from the Standing Rock Agency who were sup-
posed to have been concerned in the Sitting Bull fight,
and who, it was feared, might go further south ; to have
a check on Big Foot's band and other Cheyenne river
Indians.
As I already stated, the mere appearance of the few
Standing Rock Indians in sight as reported, precluded
anything like the use of military force against them. The
Big Foot band and other Indians belonging to Cheyenne
450 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK,
river were on their reservation and willing to go to their
village in compliance with my wishes. This was a com-
plete surrender as far as I was authorized to act—any
further demand on my part would have provoked hostili-
ties and would have placed me clearly outside of my
orders, and even beyond any excuse for such action.
Nor could it be presumed that an attack by my force on
Big Foot would have resulted in any other way than that
experienced by every commander in our service who has
made such an attack. The Modocs were attacked and
fled to the Lava Beds, killing every citizen within reach;
the Bannocks were attacked and scattered over the coun-
try, killing innocent people and committing depredations;
the Nez Perces were attacked by General Howard and
led his command and others for thousands of miles, and
when finally surrounded and attacked by fresh troops a
number succeeded in escaping to Canada. In the ’76
campaign on one occasion the Indians were met in hostile
array and the troops were withdrawn, and it is supposed
the commanders, having discretion, did a wise thing. In
the campaign of this year, at Pine Ridge, it is the com-
mon rumor, and generally supposed to be true, that Two
Strike's band and other bands of Indians were allowed
to pass back and forth between the agency and the
hostile camp, always armed, and alternately friendly and
hostile, at their own will.
I do not presume to question the management of
these affairs or the wisdom of the policy pursued, but
in connection with the management and policy I would
like to have my action considered. My orders were
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 451
positive to prevent the escape of the Indians I had in
charge; to prevent any Indians from coming from the
south and joining those on the Cheyenne river; to pro-
tect the settlements in my rear and on the Belle Fourche;
and to watch for Indians coming from the northwest
(that was in my rear), and to be prepared to march
rapidly to Fort Meade. In the face of these several
duties, all to be preformed by my small command, I
could only hope to succeed by using a peaceful policy
rather than force.
I hoped to hold Big Foot and that he would be
able to control his men and take them to Bennett, and
up to 7 p.m. on the night of the 23d, I felt reasonably
assured that I would not only succeed in that measure
but I would also be prepared for any other demands. So
that, instead of being in disobedience of orders as re-
ported by the division commander, I was, I know, doing
my utmost to carry out his orders, and even to fullfil
what I thought were his wishes.
The flight of Big Foot's band, no doubt, interfered
with the plans of the campaign; I was prepared to hear
that, and further, perhaps, that I had not met with the
expectations of the Major General commanding in per-
mitting the Indians to go. I should have regretted even
that censure; but to see that I am accused of disobedi-
ence of orders is a surprise to me, and, in my opinion,
is as unjust as it is unwarranted either by facts, circum-
stances, or a possibility of intention. My orders from
General Miles after the flight of the Indians for Pine
Ridge, were to return to my camp and remain in that
vicinity.
452 TEIE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK,
Since the departure of the Indians I have learned
through other Indians that Big Foot was forced to go
with his people; that there was probably no intention of
hostilities, but rather a desire on the part of all to seek
the crowd at Pine Ridge Agency, and being there to get
better terms than at Bennett. My opinion is that the
advance of Colonel Merriam up Cheyenne river and the
report that the Standing Rock Indians at Bennett had
been disarmed, caused a sudden change of plan in Big
Foot's village, and that the young men, on account of
the situation, were able to overcome all objections to
going south. They certainly passed through the country
without committing any depredations or harming anyone.
They passed near a detachment from my command
at Davidson’s ranch, on head of Deep creek, passed with-
in sight of citizens at Pinaugh’s ranch, at Howard’s went
through his pasture filled with horses and cattle, and, it
is reported, disturbed nothing. They had passed all
roads, as I understood it, to the hostile camp, and were
met by Maj. Whitside twelve miles from the agency and
going in that direction, were willing to surrender to him
and did march with him to his camp and remain quietly
with him all night. This command having, as was re-
ported, captured Big Foot's band, was as large, if not
greater than mine, and was in supporting distance of
other troops.
Still, Maj. Whitside asked for reinforcements, and
they were promptly sent, as he reported he did not con-
sider it safe to make the attempt to disarm them with
his command. Reinforcements having arrived, this band
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 453
of Indians was then in the presence of regimental head-
quarters, eight troops cavalry and three or four guns with
artillery detachments; a fight occurred, the details of
which have been published, and have no place here ex-
cept to show that any attack by my command, although
without provocation, would, if successful, have driven the
Indians out of the country, but could not have held or
disarmed them.
It will be observed from the evidence accompanying
this report that on the day on which the Major General
commanding was writing his dispatch, December 23, pro-
claiming Big Foot to be hostile and defiant, and ordering
his arrest, he, Big Foot, was in reality quietly occupying
his village with his people amenable to orders, having
given no provocation whatever, to my knowledge, for
attack, and no more deserving punishment than peaceable
Indians at any time on their reservation. I was not
aware that Big Foot or his people were considered hos-
tile, and am now at loss to understand why they were so
considered, every act of theirs being within my experi-
ence directly to the contrary, and reports made by me
were to the effect that the Indians were friendly and
Quiet.
As will be seen from the report submitted by Col.
Sumner, Big Foot's people had shown no hostility toward
the whites, nor had they given any indication that they
intended to act contrary to the orders promulgated by
the Government. On the contrary, the old chief had
declared himself in every way friendly, and his contem-
454 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
plated trip from his village to Fort Bennett for annuities
was made no secret of by him in his talk with Col.
Sumner. That he had changed his original plans and
started for Pine Ridge instead of Bennett, must be ad-
mitted ; but this is officially explained in the statement
that Big Foot's people, having heard of the disarming of
all the Indians at Bennett, thought they would be treated
better by the Pine Ridge Agency authorities. But their
trip toward Pine Ridge was construed as an endeavor to
join the hostile Indians in the badlands, and orders were
at once given to intercept Big Foot and his people, dis-
arm them and send them as prisoners to Omaha.
“If Big Foot had been hostile and defiant in atti-
tude, I was not aware of it,” says Col. Sumner, “until
receiving the orders making him so, and authorizing his
arrest and the arrest of others.”
When on December 28th, within twenty miles of the
Pine Ridge Agency, Big Foot and his people were met
by Major Whitside and command, they, without offering
any resistance, accompanied the troops to the military
camp on Wounded Knee creek. Word of the capture of
the band was immediately sent to headquarters, and Gen.
Brooke at once dispatched Col. Forsyth with the troops
of the Seventh Cavalry to reinforce Major Whitside and
disarm the members of Big Foot's band, numbering, all
told, three hundred and thirty-three people. The Indian
camp had been surrounded by Major Whitside's com-
mand before the arrival of Col. Forsyth, and the Indians
were apprehensive when they saw preparations going on
for the accomplishment of some object they could not
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 455
comprehend. The killing of Sitting Bull a short while
previous, and rumors of the disarming of all Indians who
had surrendered at Bennett, were promoting causes of
fear and distrust, and every act on both sides was made
subject to... misapprehension.
Grouard says he was ordered out from Pine Ridge
with Col. Forsyth's command on the night of December
28th, but was recalled by courier before he had traveled
half the distance between the agency and Wounded Knee,
where Big Foot was camped. He is positive that the
trouble which occurred the following morning arose through
a misunderstanding on both sides, and that the awful
catastrophe might, as well as not, have been averted.
When Col. Forsyth arrived at Wounded Knee on the
morning of December 29th, Big Foot was in his lodge
suffering from pneumonia. The trip from the Cheyenne
river through the biting cold had incapacitated the old
chief, and from all accounts his condition was desperate.
Of course the soldiers knew nothing of this. They were
about to carry out orders given by superior authority,
and they had learned the first duty of soldiers too well
to disobey, no matter what their knowledge or inclination
might be.
When the final order to disarm the Indians was given
by Col. Forsyth, at eight o'clock in the morning, Decem-
ber 29, the male members of Big Foot's band were
brought forward and closely surrounded by the troops—
Custer’s old regiment, the Seventh. The Indians at this
juncture knew the intention was to disarm them, but they
did not understand what was to follow when they were
456 ſ THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK.
rendered helpless by obeying the order to give up their
arms. Big Foot did not come out of his lodge, but his
nephew—a young, scatter-brain fellow—was in the crowd,
dressed in all the paraphernalia of the ghost dancers.
The tents of the soldiers and the tepis of the hostiles
were very close together ; in fact, it might be said that
the two camps were one. When the order was given to
produce their arms, the members of the band came for-
ward and sat in a semi-circle on the ground. The weather
was very cold, and the bucks were wrapped in their
blankets, many of them having their guns concealed be-
neath these coverings.
Instead, however, of giving up all their weapons at
Once, as demanded, the Indians handed in so few that the
officers conducting the disarming became suspicious and
ordered tepis and Indians both searched. Authority is
conflicting at this point as to whether any searching of
the persons of the Indians was or was not done ; but
there was great suppressed excitement, in the midst of
which Good-for-Nothing, the nephew of Big Foot, jumped
to his feet and began to harangue the camp. He is said
to have exclaimed that the soldiers could not injure him,
as he had his ghost shirt on, and that now was as good
a time to test its efficacy as he would ever have. He
took a handful of dirt from the ground and tossed it in
the air over his head, and then discharged his gun, the
soldiers claim at them, the Indians say in the air.
By this time all the Indians were in a high state of
excitement, and the soldiers, believing the action of Good-
for-Nothing to be a prearranged signal for an attack,
RATION DAY AT
PIN E IRIDGE, S. D.
SN/º
º, cº

THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 457
poured a volley of lead into the Indians, and instantly
the fight became general. The soldiers, being on all
sides of the Indians and within twenty, feet of them,
could not help but cross-fire, and no doubt killed many
of their own number, though it has never been denied
that the members of Big Foot's band fought desperately,
and to kill.
The battle lasted perhaps an hour, but not at the
spot where the trouble begun, as a great many were
killed at the first volley, and those among the band who
could get out of the camp through the cordon of troops,
started for the adjacent bluffs, the soldiers pursuing and
shooting them down as fast as they could overtake them.
The number killed has never been definitely ascertained,
though it is estimated at about one hundred and fifty, a
large number of the slain being women and children.
Many have strongly condemned the action of Col. For-
syth's command in shooting down the squaws and chil-
dren, and refer to it as a wanton slaughter; but it must
be remembered that when the first gun was fired the In-
dians became mixed up indiscriminately, and no distinc-
tion could be made between the men and the women.
There certainly is no good reason for attaching blame to
the command for the killing of women and children
under these circumstances ; nor does the fact that dead:
bodies of slain females and babes were found on the
frozen ground at distances from the camp varying from
one hundred yards to an eighth of a mile disprove the
claim made by the troops that these unfortunate beings
were mowed down by the rain of bullets and shot which
458 THE SOUTH DAKOTA ouTBREAK,
was poured upon the fleeing bucks after the fight in the
camp was over and the Indians were endeavoring to find
shelter in the neighboring hills.
After the battle the body of Big Foot was found
outside his tepi. The body of the old chief, rigid in
death, had been pierced by a score of bullets. Death
must have been instantaneous. He had apparently risen
from his bed when the firing first begun, and rushed out
of his lodge at the moment when the awful storm of
bullets broke from the soldiers' rifles. His squaw was
found dead inside the tepi, her nerveless fingers still
clutching a loaded Winchester. The chief's lodge stood
but a few feet back from where the Indians had squatted
on the ground previous to the commencement of disarm-
ing, and the fusilade from the troops fairly riddled the
tepi's sides. The squaw, being inside and standing up-
right, was struck and killed by the bullets which tore
through the thin canvas of which the walls of the lodge
were composed. *
When the battle ground at Wounded Knee was
gone over the troops found twenty-seven of their com-
rades cold in death, and more than thirty seriously
wounded. Capt. George D. Wallace of K troop was
among the slain. The dead were given burial with mil-
itary honors and the wounded were removed at once to
the agency and given the best of care. -
A large number of wounded Indians were taken to
the agency and placed in the hands of doctors and skilled
nurses, but many of them succumbed to their injuries.
Some little time after the battle Col. Forsyth was
THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUTBREAK, 459
relieved of his command pending an investigation of the
charge that women and children were killed wantonly by
the soldiers of Col. Forsyth's command at the Wounded
Knee battle, but Col. Forsyth was honorably acquitted
and promoted shortly afterward.
Among other commands that had been sent out to
keep an eye on the hostiles and intercept Big Foot's
band was Col. Guy W. Henry's (Ninth Cavalry,) whose
camp was distant about thirty-five miles from the Pine
Ridge Agency. On the day of the Wounded Knee bat-
tle word had been sent to Col. Henry to report with
his command at headquarters, which he accordingly did.
But he had no sooner arrived in camp than word came
that his wagon train, which was moving into the agency
at leisure, had been attacked by the hostiles, and he
immediately went to its relief, driving off the attacking
party and bringing in the train.
In the meantime a fire at the Mission, five miles
from the agency (supposed to be, from reports brought
into Pine Ridge, the Mission building itself undergoing
destruction at the hands of the hostiles), caused an order
to be issued for Col. Forsyth and a detachment of the
Seventh Cavalry to repair at once to the scene of the
fire and drive off the Indians. Upon arriving there
Col. Forsyth was entirely surrounded by the hostiles,
and a request for reinforcements was at once dispatched
to headquarters. Col. Henry's tired troopers had just
arrived at the agency when this request arrived from
Forsyth. In fact, the cavalrymen had barely dis-
mounted when “boots and saddles” was sounded, and
460 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUT"BREAK.
away flew Henry and his men to rescue the threatened
Seventh. And they did it, too !
No officer in the army is held in higher esteem by
his men than Colonel Henry. His regiment, then, the
Ninth, composed entirely of colored troops, would charge
any position or follow any forlorn hope where he led.
Brave as a lion and gentle as a woman, he has rare
qualities for leadership, and his knowledge of Indian
warfare has been acquired by years of campaigning on
the border with such heroes as Crook and Custer.
Grouard places him in the foremost rank as an Indian
fighter, and says his- judgment in such matters is today
superior to that of any officer in the United States
army. His services during the ’76 campaign were
heroic, and his scarred face (the result of a rifle shot
received at the battle of the Rosebud, when Chief
Crazy Horse with six thousand warriors attacked
Crook’s command,) appeals more eloquently for deserved
recognition than can words of commendation.
The hostile camp, which, up to the 11th of Janu-
ary, 1891, was located fifteen miles from the Pine
Ridge Agency, contained no less than 3,500 souls,
about six hundred being fighting warriors. Chief Red
Cloud had been forced into the hostile camp and could
not get away. On the 7th of January Lieutenant
Casey of the Twenty-second Infantry, commanding a
company of Cheyenne Scouts, left the camp of Colonel
G. B. Sanford, on the bank of White River, opposite
the mouth of White Clay creek, to reconnoiter the
hostile village located at No Waters, on White Clay
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 461
creek, about eight miles from its mouth. He had em-
ployed his scouts up to the day of his death in locating
and watching the Sioux camp. The day preceding the
murder of Lieutenant Casey, says Lieutenant Robert
Getty, he had invited a number of Sioux warriors to
his camp, where he entertained and had a friendly
talk with them.
On the day following, about nine o'clock in the
morning, he left camp with two scouts, telling Lieut.
Getty that he was going out to get a view of the hostile
village. About one o'clock the two scouts returned with
Lieut. Casey’s horse and reported that he had been
killed by the Sioux. By permission of Gen. Brooke,
who had established his headquarters with Col. Sanford
on January 5th, Lieut. Getty took a troop of scouts and
proceeded up White Clay Creek, where he found Lieut.
Casey's body on the right bank of the creek within a
mile and a half of the Sioux camp. Part of the clothing
had been taken, but the body was not mutilated. He
had been shot through the head, the ball entering at
the back and coming out under the right eye, killing
him instantly. The Sioux offered no resistance to the
recovery of his body.
White Moon, one of the scouts with Lieut. Casey,
says the officer proceeded up White Clay creek, and a
short distance from the hostile camp met a Sioux woman,
with whom he talked in English. He then proceeded
on, and within a short distance of the Sioux camp came
to a party of Indians butchering cattle, with whom he
shook hands. While White Moon was conversing with
462 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK,
these Indians Lieut. Casey rode on. The other scout,
Rock Road, turned back, but White Moon followed the
Lieutenant.
When he caught up with him the Lieutenant was
talking with Pete Richard, a half-breed. On Richard’s
right stood a Sioux, and on his left a little in rear of
the Lieutenant was Plenty Horses, the Indian who did
the killing. While the conversation was in progress
Plenty Horses shot the young officer from behind. White
Moon says he rode toward the Lieutenant, hoping to
catch him before he fell from his horse, but did not
succeed. He caught the horse, however, and, accom-
panied by Richard, took it back to Gen. Sanford’s camp
and reported the matter to General Brooke. Plenty
Horses was afterwards surrendered and brought to trial,
but escaped conviction on the technical ground that the
killing occurred during open hostilities, and under the
rule of “war ” he could not be held for murder.
After the murder of Lieut. Casey old Red Cloud
knew matters were coming to a crisis, and, in company
with his daughter, set out from the hostile camp for
the agency and nearly froze to death in making the
journey. The hostiles were desirous of keeping the old
warrior in their midst, and he had to steal away in order
to accomplish his purpose. While plodding agencyward
through the deep snow and bitter cold, some of the hos-
tiles, who had either followed him or were out in the
hills scouting, fired on the old chief and his daughter
several times; but they threw themselves in the snow
drifts and escaped the bullets, finally arriving in safety,
THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUTBREAA. 463
though nearly frozen, at Pine Ridge Agency. There seems
to be no reason to doubt the statement of Red Cloud
that he was forced to leave his home and go to the hos-
tile camp in the badlands, as he certainly sent word from
the latter place to Lieut. Casey (when he saw that officer
coming toward the hostile village on the morning of the
7th) not to approach nearer for fear of being killed, and
he also sent a request to Pine Ridge for the authorities
to rescue him from the hostile village.
On the 11th day of January Gen. Miles decided to
send a courier to the hostile camp and ask the Indians
to come in peaceably and surrender. From the date of
the battle on Wounded Knee the troops had been gradu-
ally drawing a tighter cordon about the Indian camp,
and by the 11th they were completely and effectually
surrounded. Gen. Miles’ policy was a humane one. He
had not gone to Pine Ridge to make war, but to enforce
order and secure peace. He had shown the utmost
patience and forbearance under most trying and exasperat-
ing circumstances, and, in the eleventh hour, did not pro-
pose to be diverted from his mapped out course by the
clamor of those who demanded immediate surrender of
the hostiles, regardless of consequences.
Gen. Miles entrusted his message to the hostiles to
Grouard, who, accompanied by Yankton Charlie (a Sioux
scout who was one of Grouard’s warmest friends), started
out on his dangerous mission after dark, his object being
to get into the hostile camp unobserved as near one
o'clock as possible. He arrived there an hour later than
he had calculated upon, and went direct to the lodge of
464 THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUTBREAK,
Yankton Charlie's brother, informing that hostile gentle-
man that he was the bearer of a message from Gen.
Miles, and asking him to call into the tepi the head men
of the village and also some Indian who could read and
interpret the General’s letter.
It was but a few minutes before the lodge was filled
with the leading spirits among the hostiles, who were
surly enough when they saw Grouard, but listened atten-
tively to the General’s kind and friendly communication.
They did not want to act hastily in the matter, however,
and consumed the time from 2 a. m. until sun-up deliber-
ating on the proposition submitted, at the end of which
time they informed Grouard that they had decided to
break camp at once and move closer to the agency, from
which point some of the head men would go in and con-
fer with Gen. Miles, and, if everything were satisfactory,
would surrender and give up their arms.
Grouard and Yankton Charlie waited about until the
Indian police (Dog Soldiers) surrounded the camp and the
tepis were taken down and packed, when they moved off
some hundred yards and awaited the moving of the cav-
alcade, made up of as fantastic and ragged a horde as
ever painted for the warpath or started for the poorhouse.
Some had guns and others were armed with clubs. Dur-
ing the time that Grouard waited the moving of the
camp, the Dog Soldiers fired a number of volleys in the
direction where he was stationed, but high enough in the
air not to do him injury, thereby intimating that they had
it in their power to prevent his return to the agency, but
forebore excrcising it.
THE SOUTH DAKOTA ouTBREAK, 465
When the Indians were at last on the move toward
the agency, that is when the last of the hostile band had
“folded their tents” and joined the famished, ragged car-
avan which moved through the extended lines of infantry,
cavalry and artillery, Grouard and Yankton Charlie rode
leisurely along toward the head of the procession, some of
the Indians being on horseback, some in dilapidated
wagons, while the majority were afoot. The Dog Soldiers
were at the head of the line, and Grouard rode in
amongst them. One of the police, who was armed with
a big club, nodded his head up the road and pointed to
the scout, remarking that the latter had better go, when
Yankton Charlie spoke up and told his hostileship that
they would go when they got ready. Charlie could not
have been induced to visit the camp if it were not for
the fact that Grouard had been ordered to go, and the
scout says that while he and Charlie were on their way
to the hostile village from the agency, the Sioux told him
that they were the biggest fools on earth to make the
trip, as the Indians had it in for both of them and would
kill them on sight. “But,” said Grouard’s fearless friend,
“if you go, I shall accompany you ; I don’t believe either
of us will ever come back, though.”
Grouard and Charlie soon drew away from the hos-
tiles and returned to the agency, reporting to Gen. Miles
that the Indians were moving toward army headquarters.
In answer to his message the hostiles sent word that they
would hold a conference with Gen. Miles on the follow-
ing day. They did not desire Mr. Cody (who had sent
them word that he intended to visit their camp) to come
among them, so Mr. Cody did not go.
466 THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUTBREAK,
On the following day some of the head men came
to the agency and held a council. Gen. Miles told them
he wanted them to come in and give up their arms, prom-
ising to pay for every gun taken from them, and the In-
dians finally concluded the best thing for them to do was
to act upon the General’s advice, which they did on the.
15th. A place near the agency was designated as the
spot where the disarming should take place (an immense
flat visible from headquarters). Grouard says anyone who
witnessed the parade of the hostiles on that day will
never forget it. The line was fully five miles long, and
the Indians rode and marched in twos with all the proud
bearing and precision of soldiers, the mounted men rep-
resenting Indian cavalry and the footmen (walk-a-heaps)
infantry. Some were armed and others carried clubs, but
all had something in their hands or on their shoulders
representing weapons. They marchd in review of the
officers and troops, deporting themselves as proudly as if
returning from a conquest. Their garments were the odd
ends of every conceivable kind of male attire, with here
and there a bright colored blanket and a stovepipe hat.
Grouard says he preceded the column to the flat where
the Indians gave up their weapons and saw them sur-
render all the firearms they then possessed ; but he was
satisfied that not over one gun out of ten which the bucks
really had were given up, as they had taken the precau-
tion to bury them before coming in to the agency the
day previous. They did not fail, however, to turn in all
the old useless weapons they had in their camp. When
taken from them each gun was properly marked for iden-
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 467
tification, and afterward each Indian received remuneration
for what he had given up. A feast was provided for the
surrendering host. Afterwards the Indians were returned
to their respective reservations, and peace - once more
spread its wings over the Dakota hills and valleys.
While this memorable campaign was productive of
one result that was inevitable, it should have also taught
the Government that humane treatment of the Indians
can accomplish greater ends than may be attained
through conquest. It must be conceded by all that no
one is more interested in the management of the Indians
on reservations than the Indian himself. Having been
forced to yield to the force of a supreme power, he has
the right to expect just consideration and honest dealing.
And the government can do no better than adopt many
of the suggestions which come from its savage wards,
when it cannot but realize that such action would pre-
clude the possibility of Indian outbreaks, and save life
and the expenditure of millions of dollars.
There is no use in theorizing. There is a practical
side to the problem, “What shall we do with the In-
dian º’ Why, treat him like a human being. Properly
clothe and sufficiently feed and shelter him. He cannot
be expected to learn our ways if he is neglected and
furnished no teachers. Make his surroundings so pleas-
antly comfortable that he will be attracted instead of
repelled, and his condition will change so rapidly that
he will be self-supporting in a decade. His superiors
should be those in whom he has confidence. No human
being, nor any wild animal, either, can be won by cruelty.
468 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK,
Submission may follow starvation, but the spirit cannot
be conquered so. “Kills every man the thing he does
not love º’ We proudly boast that the Indian is Ameri-
can Then in the name of reason, treat him as an
American, and make a man of him. The author of these
pages has witnessed scenes on Indian reservations that
would scarcely be credited were they recited here. I
have seen — not once, but many, many times — an Indian
woman and her children emptying the offal barrels and
boxes at the rear of kitchens at the Posts and on the
reservations, and eating the filthy food to satisfy the
pangs of hunger — hunger that was apparent in their
gaunt faces and wasted forms; hunger that shone in the
startled look within their eyes. Ah, says someone, they
have no preference when it comes to food – “He that
is filthy, let him be filthy still.” -
Let me state right here, that no class of people on
earth ate better or more nutritious food than the savage
before the government drove him to the starvation pen
on the reservation. It may not be the fault of the gov-
ernment that he is half clad and worse than not fed at
all ; but I think it is. The policy that has permitted
and still permits favored persons to control Government
reserves and grow fat in bank accounts on what they
filch from the poor Indian, is a Government policy, and
one the Government cannot discountenance and discon-
tinue any too soon. It is a shame and disgrace, in light
of the fact that this matter has been aired so often, that
such conditions still maintain. What is the remedy ?
Why, listen to the prayer of the Indian himself, and save
| THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 46.9
him from civilian rule and robbery by vesting the reser-
vation government in the War Department, for, when truth
is told, the military man is the only practical friend the
half-clad, half-starved, outraged, pilfered Indian has, and,
knowing this, and asking that the agents be appointed
from among the soldiery, the Indian is taking the first
step he has ever taken on the highway of civilization.
& The author claims no originality for these observa-
tions. Their source is to be found in the masterly ar-
raignment of the Government by no less a personage than
Chief Red Cloud, who, appealed to in 1890 by that Chris-
tian martyr, Father Jule, for an expression of opinion on
the causes leading up to the last Indian outbreak, said:
“When first we made treaties with the Government,
this was our position : Our old life and our customs
were about to end ; the game upon which we lived was
disappearing ; the whites were closing around us, and
nothing remained for us but to adopt their ways and
have the same rights with them if we wished to save
ourselves. The Government promised us all the means
necessary to make our living out of the land, and to
instruct us how to do it, and abundant food to support
us until we could take care of ourselves. We looked
forward with hope to the time when we could be as in-
dependent as the whites and have a voice in the Govern-
Iment.
“The officers of the army could have helped us
better than any others, but we were not left to them.
An Indian Department was made, with a large number
of agents and other officials drawing large salaries, and
470 THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK,
these men were supposed to teach us the way of the
whites. Then came the beginning of trouble. These
men took care of themselves, but not of us. It was
made very hard for us to deal with the Goverment ex-
cept through them. It seems to me that they thought
they could make more by keeping us back than by
helping us forward. We did not get the means to work
our land. The few things given were given in such a
Way as to do us little or no good. Our rations began
to be reduced. Some said that we were lazy and wanted
to live on rations, and not to work. That is false.
How does any man of sense suppose that so great a
number of people could get to work at once, unless they
were at once supplied with means to work, and in-
structors enough to teach them how to use them 2
“Remember that even our little ponies were taken
away under the promise that they would be replaced
by oxen and large horses, and that it was long before
we saw any, and then we got very few. We tried,
even with the means we had, but by one pretext or another
we were shifted from place to place or told that such a
transfer was coming. Great efforts were made to break
up our customs, but nothing was done to introduce the
customs of the whites. Everything was done to break
the power of the real chiefs, who really wished their
people to improve, and little men, so-called chiefs, were
made to act as disturbers and agitators. Spotted Tail
wanted the ways of the whites, and a cowardly assassin
was found to remove him. This was charged upon the
Indians, because an Indian did it, but who set on the
Indian Ž -
THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 471}}
“I was abused and slandered, to weaken my in-
fluence for good and make me seem like one who did
not want to advance. This was done by the men paid
by the Government to teach us the ways of the whites.
I have visited many other tribes, and find that the
same things were done among them. All was done to
discourage and nothing to encourage. I saw the men
paid by the Government to help us, all very busy mak-
ing money for themselves, but doing nothing for us.
“Now, don’t you suppose we saw all this ? Of
course we did, but what could we do $ We were pris-
oners, not in the hands of the army, but in the hands
of robbers. Where was the army? Set by the Gov-
ernment to watch us, but having no voice in setting
things right, so that they would not need to watch us.
They could not speak for us, though we wished it very
much. Those who held us pretended to be very anxious
about our welfare, and said our condition was a great
mystery. We tried to speak and clear up this mystery,
but were laughed at and treated as children. So things
went on from year to year. Other treaties were made,
and it was all the same. Rations were further reduced,
and we were starving. Sufficient food was not given
us, and no means to get food from the land were pro-
vided. Rations were further reduced. A family got for
two weeks what was not enough for one week.
“What did we eat when that was gone? The peo-
ple were desperate from starvation — they had no hope.
They did not think of fighting; what good would it do?
They might die like men, but what would the women
472 THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUT BREAK,
and children do? Some say they saw the Son of God;
others did not see Him. I did not see Him. If He had
come He would do some great things as He had done
before. We doubted it, because we had saw neither
Him nor His works. Then Gen. Crook came. His
Words sounded well; but how could we know that a new
treaty would be kept any better than the old one? For
, that reason we did not care to sign. He promised to see
that his promise would be kept. He, at least, had never
lied to us. His words gave the people hope. They signed.
They hoped. He died. Their hope died with him. De-
spair came again. The people were counted, and wrongly
counted. Our rations were again reduced. The white
men seized on the land we sold them through Gen.
Crook, but our pay was as distant as ever. The man
who counted us said we were feasting and wasting food.
Where did he see this?
“How can we eat or waste what we have not? We
felt that we were mocked in our misery. We had no
newspapers, and no one to speak for us. We had no
redress. Our rations were again reduced. You, who eat
three times a day and see your children well and happy
around you, can’t understand what starving Indians feel.
We were faint with hunger and maddened by despair. We
held our dying children and felt their little bodies trem-
ble as their souls went out and left only a dead weight
in our hands. They were not very heavy, but we our-
selves were very faint, and the dead weighed us down.
There was no hope on earth, and God seemed to have
forgotten us. Some one had again been talking of the
THE SOUTH DAKOTA ouTBREAK, 473
Son of God, and said He had come. The people did
not know; they did not care. They snatched at the
hope. They screamed like crazy men to Him for mercy.
They caught at the promise they heard He had made.
2” “The white men were frightened, and called for sol-
diers. We had begged for life, and the white men thought
we wanted theirs. We heard that soldiers were coming.
We did not fear. We hoped that we could tell them
our troubles and get help. A white man said the sol-
diers meant to kill us. We did not believe it, but some
were frightened and ran away to the badlands. The sol-
diers came. They said: ‘Don’t be afraid ; we come to
make peace, and not war.” It was true. They brought
us food, and did not threaten us. If the Messiah has
'really come, it must be in this way. The people prayed
for life, and the army brought it. The Black Robe
(Father Jule) went into the badlands and brought in some
Indians to talk to Gen. Brooke. The General was very
kind to them, and quieted their fears, and was a real
friend. He sent out Indians to call in the other Indians
from the badlands. I sent all my horses and all my
young men to help Gen. Brooke save the Indians. Am
I not right when I say that he will know how to settle
this trouble % He has settled it. **
“The Indian Department called for soldiers to shoot
down the Indians whom it had starved into despair.
Gen. Brooke said: “No. What have they done 3 They
are dying. They must live.” He brought us food. He
gave us hope. I trust to him now to see that we will
be well treated. I hope that the despair that he has
'474 THE SOUTH DA KOTA OUTBREAK,
driven away will never return again. If the army had
been with us from the first there never would have been
any trouble. The army will, I hope, keep us safe and
help us become as independent as the whites.”
Red Cloud did not have a very high opinion of Sit-
ting Bull. “He was nothing,” said the old chief, “but
what the white men made him. He was a conceited
man who never did anything great, but wanted to get
into notice, and white men who had something to make
by it, encouraged and used him. When they had made
him as great as they could, they killed him to get a name
by it. The fight at his arrest would have been made (by
the Indians) for any one arrested in the same way. . If
he was a little man, he was a man, and should not have
been murdered uselessly. What is worse, many good men
were killed, also. The soldiers came in time to prevent
more murders, but too late to save all. If the army had
wanted to arrest him they knew how to do it, and never
would have done it in that way. You see how they are
doing here. The agent does not interfere with the army,
and the army saves lives and does not do anything cruel.
No Indian wants to fight; they want to eat, and work
and live ; and as the soldiers are peace-makers, there will
be no trouble here. The Indian Department has almost
destroyed us. Save us from it. Let the army take charge
of us. We know it can help us. If this can be done,
I will think that all this late trouble has been only a
storm that broke the clouds. Let the sun shine on us
again.”
• THE SOUTH DAKOTA OUTBREAK, 475
“Nature,” says Jean Ingelow, “before it has been
touched by man, is almost always beautiful, strong and
cheerful in man’s eyes; but Nature, when he has once
given it his culture and then forsakes it, has usually an air
of sorrow and helplessness. He has made it live the more
by laying his hand upon it and touching it with his life.
It has come to relish of his humanity, and it is so
flavored with his thoughts, and ordered and permeated by
his spirit, that if the stimulus of his presence is with-
drawn, it cannot for a long while do without him, and
live for itself as fully and as well as it did before.”
Conspicuous among those whose services during the
uprising were of incalcuable value to the Government
were the Sioux and Cheyenne Indian scouts, more par-
ticularly Yankton Charlie, Woman's Dress (who acted as
body guard to Gen. Brooke), and No Neck, who gave
complete proof of their regeneration. The author has
been enabled to secure the photographs of these cour-
ageous men, copies of which will be found in these
pages.

CHAPTER LVI.
GROUARD's LIFE UP To DATE.
Before the opening of the spring campaign of 1876
the Government purchased a large number of horses—
some of the animals having been bred and raised on the
Laramie plains, and, like many of the Wyoming-raised
horses, had a strain of cayuse or broncho in their blood.
One of these horses fell to Grouard. Its original cost
was only sixty-three dollars, but its real worth could not
be computed in greenbacks or gold. This animal was
used by the scout on very many of his most hazardous
undertakings, and never failed to respond when called
upon for duty. - -
During the summer of 1880 the telegraph line be-
tween Fort McKinney and the Powder river (a distance
of fifty-three miles) was kept in such wretehed repair
and became so unreliable that Grouard was compelled at
least once every week for several months to make the
trip on horseback to deliver and receive official messages
at both ends of the line. It was his custom to leave the
Post in the morning at sun-rise, take dinner at the Powder
river telegraph station, and, returning, reach Fort McKin-
ney in time to witness dress parade (sun-down). Here
GROUARD’S LIFE UP TO DATE. 477
was a distance covered of one hundred and six miles in
twelve hours, with time enough taken out to feed and
rest the animal and its rider.
There was nothing about the horse to indicate its
great fleetness, or powers of endurance. It stood about
sixteen hands 'high, weighed ten hundred and fifty pounds,
was rangy in build and light bay in eolor. It was a
very affectionate animal, and seemed to understand every-
thing its master said to it. Grouard had obtained posses-
sion of the horse when it was three years old, broke it
himself and never permitted anyone else to ride it. If it
were out on the prairie, all that was necessary for its
master to do to get it in the corral was to call or
whistle. It would follow Grouard like a dog, and be-
came a general favorite about the Post, and among the
officers’ and soldiers' wives and children. It was the only
animal permitted to stray or remain upon the parade
ground. Everybody in the country knew the animal,
and was familiar with the qualities which made it of such
value to the scout. Mr. Trabing, who kept the store at
the head of Six Mile Lane, south of the Post, once
counted out five hundred dollars in gold and offered it to
Grouard for the animal, but the offer was promptly re-
fused, Grouard remarking that the money could do him
no good if he were in a tight place where he needed a
horse which he could rely upon, while the possession of
the animal was better than an insurance policy against
accident.
On one of his long journeys from the Post, Grouard
became so thoroughly worn out from fatigue and loss of
478 GROUARD'S LIFE UP TO DATE.
sleep that he fell from the back of the animal to the .
ground while unconscious, where he must have lain for
several hours. Upon awaking, however, he found his
faithful horse standing quietly by his side, it not having
moved twenty feet from the spot where the scout's rest-
ing place had been. Grouard offered many times to
wager five hundred dollars that he could ride the animal
from Fort McKinney to Custer, a distance of one hun-
dred and thirty-nine miles, on any fair day, between sun
and sun, but nobody was ever found rash enough to
accept the wager.
The animal was feeding on the parade ground one
day in 1887, and was noticed by the Post veterinary
surgeon to go over te one of the irrigating ditches and
bend down its head as if to get a drink. A moment
later it fell to the ground, and when those who witnessed its
fall arrived at its side, the animal was dead. Grouard,
whose love of animals is as great as his knowledge con-
cerning them, gave evidence of genuine grief over his
loss, and he had the carcass buried with as much care as is
bestowed upon the bodies of many mortals.
- The author might cite many instances of the scout’s
love of animals and the care he always bestowed upon
them. Nothing so exasperated him as to see some brute
in the shape of a man abusing a dumb creature. I rem-
ember once of riding with Grouard and a man who had
indulged a little too freely in the ardent. The man in-
sisted upon driving, but the scout quietly took the reins
in his own hands and refused to give them up. His
action somewhat nettled the would-be driver who, mak-
wº
** GROUARD'S LIFE UP TO DATE. - 479
ing the remark that he would like to run the animal
into a gulch and break its neck, grasped the whip and
attempted to strike the horse. Grouard snatched the
whip in a twinkling, with these words, spoken so low
and yet so deliberately that they were terribly distinct:
“I am one of those kind of men who think a great
deal of a horse, and never permit one to be abused in
my presence P” With that he put the whip in the bot-
tom of the carriage, placed his foot on it and drove
along as if nothing had happened to disturb his usually
quiet nature, while the would-be driver ruminated on the
proposition that it was a “h–l of a notion that a man
couldn't do what he pleased with his own property.”
After his return to McKinney from Pine Ridge at
the close of the Indian uprising, Grouard was sent to
Fort Washakie, Wyoming, and into Idaho to investigate
and report upon the ghost dance excitement which had
prevailed in the vicinity of the former Post and Fort
Hall. His trip and labor occupied his time for some
months, and his report was satisfactory to those who
commissioned him. Since that time he has been doing
duty about Fort McKinney, where he lives in a home
of his own, surrounded by all the comforts necessary
to make the average mortal contented and happy. He
keeps several fine horses, and is prepared at a mo-
ment’s notice to depart the Post on any mission intrusted
to him by his superior officer. His dairy stock is
high grade, and are, like all animals that come under
the scout's influence, gentle and thoroughly domesti-
cated. Up to a year ago his kennel comprised old Flo
480 . GROUARD’S LIFE UP To DATE.
(the dog saved from Grouard’s house at the time the
Sioux records were destroyed) and a beautiful thorough-
bred water spaniel named Bird. Twelve months since,
poor, old, faithful Flo stretched her aged body on the
porch with her eyes turned toward her master's win-
dow, and ceased to be. Grouard buried her with his
own hands, but never spoke about her death. When
the author asked him what had become of her, he
answered with a sign that was more eloquent than words,
and there the matter ended. -
During the spring of 1893 great efforts were made
by the people of Sheridan County, Wyoming, and those
living in the eastern portion of the Big Horn Basin, to
establish a mail route from Sheridan to Hyattville, over
the Big Horn mountains. This matter was agitated dur-
ing the entire summer, and the postal authorities, con-
vinced at last that northern Wyoming was settling up so
rapidly that increased mail facilities was a necessity, de-
cided to establish the route prayed for if a practicable
pass across the snowy range could be secured. By the
time this decision was reached, the year 1893 had be-
come a lean and slippered Pantaloon, and the great
storms that visit the Big Horn were in progress. Feb-
ruary and March are the two worst months of the year
in the mountains of northern Wyoming, and it was in
the latter month of the present year that Grouard re-
ceived orders to cross the range and find a practicable
mail route—one that could be traveled at all seasons
of the year. The intrepid scout, accompanied by a
Wyoming character called “Shorty”—one of that class
GROUARD’S LIFE UP TO DATE, 481
of men, who, if they ever had a surname, have lost
sight of it during their progress through and knocks
against the rough edges of the world—at once started
on his errand.
Those acquainted with the character of the moun-
tains through which the scout was forced to pass, shook
their heads and expressed themselves as certain that
Grouard and his companion would perish on top of the
range, if they ever got that far. The two men aban-
doned their horses at Big Horn, and, putting on snow
shoes, started up the Little Goose creek canyon for the
divide. They carried, besides their firearms, one blanket
apiece and rations sufficient for five days. They passed
from the Little Goose to the Big Goose creek and
Tongue river, thence to a point six miles northeast from
Clouds Peak (the highest point in the range), thirteen
thousand feet above the level of the sea. They were
on top of the range for eight days, three of which were
spent in huge snowdrifts without fire or food. They
finally found their way down the Paint Rock canyon to
Hyattville, but they were sorry looking mortals upon ar-
riving at the latter place. One of Grouard's eyes was
completely, closed from snow blindness, and the other
was nearly useless. His face was swollen to such an
extent and frozen so badly that he was unable to leave
the house for two weeks, at the end of which time he
started across the range for Fort McKinney. “Shorty”
had fared no better than the scout, and he suffered ter-
ribly from frozen face, hands and feet.
The object of the trip had been attained, however,
482 GROUARD’S LIFE UP TO DATE.
and Grouard's report was acted upon by the postal
authorities. The mail route was established as he had
laid it out. -
The result of this journey, so far as Grouard is con-
cerned, has proved very unfortunate, as the scout's eye-
sight was permanently impaired, and eminent oculists
have so far failed to give him any but temporary relief
from his sufferings. His service in the army covers a
period of nearly nineteen years, and this service has con-
tinued uninterruptedly until the month of August last,
when he departed for St. Joseph, Mo., to consult em-
inent specialists concerning his eyesight.
Grouard has made a trip to St. Louis, which point
is the farthest east he has ever been, and that city is
the largest one he has ever seen. From his nineteenth
to his twenty-sixth year he was a captive among the
Sioux, and he has been with the army from shortly
after the time of his escape from the hostile Indians to
the present day. He passed his forty-fourth milestone
in life's journey on the 20th day of last September.
Physically he is a superb specimen of manhood, and,
with ordinary care, should live for many years to come.
Men, however, , who have faced the hardships, dangers
and privations such as have fallen to the lot of
Grouard, are not proof against sudden decline by reason
of natural physical ability to resist disease. In fact, it
is the rule that army campaigners, such as the scout has
been, have no certainty on a lease of life beyond To-
day. The Grim Reaper is forever busy, and humbles
young valor and gray service without distinction.
GEN. GEORGE CROOK, IN “CAMPAIGN UNIFORM.”

PART SECOND.
CHAPTER I.
GENERAL GEORGE CROOK.
Gen. George Crook was born at Dayton, Ohio, in
1829. He was nineteen years of age when he received
his appointment to the West Point Military Academy.
In 1852 he graduated and was assigned to duty, as
Second Lieutenant, with the Fourth Infantry. Two years
later, after campaigning with his regiment in Oregon and
California against the Indians, he received his appoint-
ment as First Lieutenant. Until the breaking out of the
civil war he was in active service in the west, and in
1859 was dangerously wounded by an Indian spear head,
a portion of the missile remaining in his side to the day
of his death. His record during the civil war is a
glorious one. Rising to a Captaincy in the Fourth Infantry
in 1861, he became colonel of the Thirty-sixth regiment
Ohio volunteers four months later. In August, 1862,
he was appointed Commander of the Third Provisional
Brigade, and in the fall of the same year, for gallant
484 GENERAL GEORGE CROOK.
services at the battle of Lewisburg, Va., was breveted
Major in the regular army. Not long afterwards he was
promoted to the rank of Brigadier-General of volunteers.
He took command in July, 1863, of the Second Cavalry
division. In 1864 he was breveted Major-General of
volunteers for gallant conduct in the Virginia campaign,
joining Sheridan in the Shenandoah valley the same year,
and commanding the cavalry branch of the army of
the Potomac in 1865, his brevet Brigadier-General
rank in the regular army dating from the same year.
He was present at the surrender of Lee at Appomatox
Court House. After commanding the District of Will-
mington, North Carolina, in 1866, he was made Com-
mander of the Boise, Idaho, district, and turned his
attention to the hostile Snake Indians, and after subduing
them went to the Department of the Columbia and quieted
the Umatilla and Nez Perces. His next field of opera-
tions was in the Department of Arizona, where he assumed
command in June, 1871. Here he made such a bril-
liant record in his campaign against the Apaches that
President Grant made him a Brigadier-General, his com-
mission dating in 1873. In 1875 he was transferred to
the Department of the Platte. Serving in the latter De-
partment until 1882, he again took charge of the Depart-
ment of Arizona, where he succeeded in subduing the
Apaches in 1883. Again he was made Commander of
the Department of the Platte. In 1888 he assumed con
trol of the Military Division of the Missouri with the
rank of Major-General. His death, which was sudden
and unlooked for, occurred in Chicago on the 21st of
GENERAL GEORGE CROOK. 485
March, 1890, and his body was interred during the fall
of the same year in Arlington Cemetery, Virginia,
opposite Washington.
. No man can place a proper estimate upon the mili-
tary services of General Crook. He was a plain, blunt
man, hating and avoiding ostentation, was beloved by his
intimates and associates and respected and feared by his
foes. There was not a spark of rashness in his makeup.
Doggedly courageous, with a superb judgment, all his
enterprises were eminently successful, and he rose to
position and honor upon his deserts. Grouard, like all men
who knew him and were with him in his campaigns, says
he was the master of every emergency where coolness
and courage were essential. His chastisement of the hos-
tile Indians was tempered with mercy, and the name of
“Lone Star” was both feared and revered among the
redmen.
Crook’s career was an honorable and active one, and
reflects great glory on the military achievements of the
American army. His insight and knowledge of the In-
dian character made him master of the situation which
presented itself on the frontier in 1876. His theory was
that the savage would remain in his primitive condition
just so long as he was permitted to hold sway over those
great stretches of public domain where game was ample
to furnish food. In the summer season the Indian’s
nomadic nature kept him on the move ; in the winter he
pitched his tepi with a view to enjoying the greatest
shelter and security. Crook was the first army officer to
intrude upon the redman’s winter security. His campaign
486 GENERAL GEORGE CROOK.
in the spring of '76, when he fell upon and destroyed
'the village of Crazy Horse, with the thermometer regis-
'tering sixty below zero, was a revelation to the country
and carried consternation to the heart of the savage. All
seasons were Crook's, and the redmen awoke to a full
realization of this fact before the snows of 1876 covered
the plains of the great midwest. He drove them from
“pillar to post; ” from the Platte valley to the Yellow-
stone; from plain and mountain to exile and the agency.
He made war against their customs and traditions, de-
stroyed their villages, subdued their spirits and broke
their hearts. On this line of campaigning he pursued
them in season and out of season, until the Indian feared
an ambuscade in every draw or suspected the presence of
“Lone Star” behind each sagebush. Crook was undeni-
ably the greatest Indian fighter of the century, and he
did his work so thoroughly and well that little or nothing
of like nature is left for his successors to do. He deter-
mined the status of the Indian — solved the question–
and his memory will ever have a high niche in the
temple of fame. Humanity is so deeply obligated to his
warrior spirit and generous nature that it will always re-
main his debtor |
His life was gentle, and the elements
So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world, “This was a man. '
CHAI’TER II.
sºmeºmºsºmº
GENERAL GEORGE A. CUSTER.
General George Armstrong Custer was born at New
Ramley, Ohio, on the 5th of December, 1839. \ He en-
tered West Point Military Academy in 1857 and was
graduated in 1861, being assigned to the Second Cavalry,
with rank of Second Lieutenant. He participated in the
first battle of the rebellion (Bull Run) and served with
great bravery and distinction throughout the civil war.
General McClellan was the first to discover the right kind
of metal in the young man, and made him an aide-de-
camp. Custer never forgot his first promotion nor the
donor of it, and McClellan, throughout the years of his
vicissitudinous career, always found a warm champion in
the man he had marked for distinction. He led a grand
charge under Hancock on the 3d of May, 1862, and won
golden opinions and a Brigadier-Generalship under Kil-
patrick when * that General confronted the Confederate
forces under Stuart in 1864, being promoted from a Cap-
taincy. He was then but twenty-three years of age. His
courage was the theme of every camp fire, and his bril-
liant achievements under Sheridan in the Shenandoah
Valley are remembered as vividly today as in the '60's.
488 GENERAL GIE ORGE A. CUSTER
He is said, as a General of Cavalry, to have led sixty
successful charges. After the close of the war he served
for a short season in Texas as Major General of volun-
teers, and in '66 was assigned to the Seventh Cavalry,
with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. Upon joining his.
new regiment in Kansas he found plenty of work to do
in subduing the Indians, and in 1868 fought the famous
battle against the allied forces of the Arapahoe, Chey-
enne and Kiowa tribes in the Indian Territory, known as
the Battle of the Washita, in which he captured the pony
herd of the savages, destroyed their village with its entire
contents and killed over one hundred of the hostiles, in-
cluding their two principal chiefs. The Yellowstone
(Montana) campaign followed. Then came the Battle of
the Little Big Horn and — the end of Custer's remark-
able career. *
Custer and fear never were introduced to each other.
He inspired his men by his rare courage. There was not
a soldier in his regiment but would have followed him
into the mouth of perdition had he but led the way. A
story characteristic of him is told by Captain Whittaker
in his “Life of Custer,” which will illustrate the man’s
inspiring spirit :
At Brandy Station, Va., during Meade's fall back,
Custer and cavalry brought up the rear, and all soldiers
know it is the worst place on God’s footstool to cover a
retreat. To allow the infantry ample time to cross the
Rappahannock the cavalry kept fooling around, with an
avarage of 10,000 rebs on all sides of them. Once
when a lull had seemed to come with ominous stillness,
GENERAL GEORGE A. CUSTER. 489
some one remarked : “Hello, look ahead l’’ and sure
enough, about 5,000 rebs were suddenly seen to be massed
in our front, and right in the path we must travel if we
ever saw “the girls we left behind us.” . Custer was sit-
ting on his horse at the head of the regiment, the Fifth
Cavalry. “He took one look of about ten seconds, then
snatched off his hat, raised up in his stirrups, and yelled,
“Boys of Michigan, there are some people between us
and home; I’m going home; who else goes '' Suffice it
to say, we all went. Gen. Alger, then Colonel of our
regiment, can vouch for our flying movements as we fol-
lowed Custer, with his bare head and golden locks, and
long, straight saber, putting the very devil into the old
Fifth Cavalry, until a clear track was before us. When
out of the woods, up came Kilpatrick and sung out :
“Custer, what ails you?” His reply was : “Oh, nothing,
only we want to cook some coffee on the Yank side of
the Rappahannock.”

CHAPTER III.
JOHN F. FINERTY.
The subject of this sketch, Hon. John F. Finerty,
was born in the city of Galway, Ireland, on the tenth
day of September, in the year 1846. For many years his
father followed the profession of journalism and was for a
long time editor of one of the leading papers in Ireland.
The boy gave early indication of a bright and inquiring
mind, and was afforded every opportunity of acquiring a
splendid education at the hands of private tutors. He left
his native land when twenty years of age and served in
the Union army during the close of the war. He also
became interested and active in the cause of Ireland,
being one of the organizers of the American Fenian
movement. For some time he acted as correspondent
for the Irish Press, connecting himself, in 1869, with
the Chicago Republican. Three years later he was pro-
moted to the city editorship of that paper, which position
he left, just previous to the great Chicago fire, to accept
a remunerative one on the evening Post, and shortly
afterward went to the Tribune, remaining on that journal
until the year 1875. In the latter year he became the
candidate on the People's ticket for clerk of the super-
HON. JOHN F. FINERTY, “THE FIGHTING CORRESPONDENT_”


JOHN F. FINERTY. 491
jor court, but was defeated at the election. During the
Winter of ’75 he became identified with the local staff of
the Chicago Times, and the following spring was detailed
by Editor Story to accompany Gen. Crook’s expedition
against the Sioux and Cheyenne Indians. His assign-
ment to the important work is best told in his own words.
He says:
In the beginning of May, 1876, I was attached to
the city department of the Chicago Times. One day
Mr. Clinton Snowden, the city editor, said to me, “Mr.
Story wants a man to go out with the Big Horn and Yel-
lowstone expedition, which is organizing under Generals
Crook and Terry, in the departments of the Platte and
Dakota. There is apt to be warm work out there with
the Indians, so if you don’t care to go, you needn’t see
Mr. Story. ”
“I care to go, and I’ll see Mr. Story,” was my
2.I] SW er".
The famous editor of the Chicago Times did not, at
that period, show any significant indication of that “with-
ering at the top º' which subsequently obscured his won-
derful faculties. He was a tall, well-built, white-haired,
white-bearded, gray-eyed, exceedingly handsome man of
sixty, or thereabout, with a courteous, but somewhat
cynical manner.
“You are the young man Mr. Snowden mentioned
for the plains?” he asked, as soon as I had made my
presence known by the usual half-shy demonstrations, be-
cause everybody who did not know him well, and who
had heard his reputation on the outside, approached the
formidable Vermonter in somewhat gingerly fashion. -
492 JOHN F. FINERTY.
I replied in the affirmative. “Well, how soon can
you be ready ?” he inquired.
“At any time it may please you to name,” was my
prompt reply.
“You should have your outfit first. Better get
some of it here—perhaps all. You are going with
Crook's column,” said Mr. Storey, with his customary
decisiveness and rapidity.
“I understood I was to go with Custer,” I re-
joined. “I know General Custer, but am not ac-
quainted with General Crook.”
“That will make no difference, whatever,” said he.
“Terry commands over Custer, and Crook, who knows
more about the Indians, is likely to do the hard work.
Custer is a brave soldier—none braver—but he has been
out there some years already, and has not succeeded in
bringing the Sioux to a decisive engagement. Crook
did well in Arizona. However, it is settled that you go
with Crook. Go to Mr. Patterson (the manager) and
get what funds you may need for your outfit and other
expenses. Report to me when you are ready.”
It will be seen from the above that Mr. Finerty
came within an ace of accompanying the ill-fated Custer
command. In fact, had it been left to his own choice,
he would probably have followed the fortunes of the
gallant leader of the Seventh, and the fate which over-
took poor Mark Kellogg, of the St. Paul Press, would
have been his also. He endeared himself alike to the
officers and men of Crook’s command, and shared all
their dangers and deprivations. In the famous Sibley
JOHN F. FINERTY. 493
Scout he played no unimportant part, and the journalistic
profession has just cause for pride over the conspicuous
bravery that characterized this “fighting correspondent,”
as Frank Grouard calls him. The Scout says Finerty im-
portuned him to be permitted to accompany him on every
scouting expedition that was organized, but not until the
starting of the Sibley party did the correspondent have
his wishes gratified ; and while he bore himself with
soldierly decorum on that occasion, he made no further
request (so says the scout) to be one of any future scout-
ing parties.
Mr. Finerty's labors on the Chicago Times were con-
tinuous until the year 1881, the interim having been filled
in reporting the Nichols-Packard trouble in Louisiana and
the Pittsburg riots in 18u7, and in visiting and writing
up Texas and old Mexico during the years 1878–9. He
was with Gen. Miles in the latter’s campaign against the
Sioux, and with Gen. Merritt during the Ute outbreak in
’79. The next year found him doing the southern states
for the Times, and acting, in the year following, as edi-
torial correspondent for his paper in Washington, D. C.
He also, during 1881, made a tour of the Canadian and
Northern Pacific railroads, and in the fall was assigned
as war correspondent with Gen. Carr in that officer's ex-
pedition against the Apaches. He withdrew from the
Times in November, 1881, and organized the first Irish
National Land League convention, which was held in the
city of Chicago during that winter. On the 14th of Jan-
uary, 1882, he established The Citizen, a publication de-
voted to Irish-American interests, and the venture has
494 JOHN F. FINERTY.
;
proven a successful and profitable one. In 1882 Mr.
Finerty was an independent candidate for Congress from
the Second district of Illinois, and was elected. “In
1884 he supported James G. Blaine in the Ohio cam-
paign,” says John C. Flinn's Handbook of Chicago Biog-
raphy, “ and was himself again a candidate for Congress,
running as a Blaine Independent. In this contest he was
nominally defeated by disreputable means. In April,
1885, he was Republican candidate for City Treasurer,
but was defeated, having been counted out with Sidney
Smith, candidate for Mayor, and was afterward appointed
City Oil Inspector, in which office he served during Mr.
Roche’s administration.”
Mr. Finerty has been twice married. He is a mem-
ber of the Chicago Press Club, has twice been elected
President of the Irish–American Societies of Chicago and
Cook county, and is widely known as a political writer
and lecturer, being a protectionist and Republican. In
1890 he gave to the world a volume of personal experi-
ences and adventures in the Big Horn and Yellowstone
expedition of 1876, entitled “Warpath and Bivouac.; or,
the Conquest of the Sioux.” This book has reached its
second edition, and is one of the most interesting and
best written stories of its kind published.
WASHAKIE, CHIEF OF THE SHOSHONES.

CEHAFTER IV.
WYOMING INDIANS OF TODAY.
There are no Indians in Wyoming today except the
Shoshones and Arapahoes, who together occupy an area
covering 1,520,000 acres. This reservation, being a por-
tion of Fremont and Johnson counties, is called the
Wind River Reservation, and is one of the finest agricul-
tural sections in the state. The Big Wind river cuts
the reservation almost in two from the northwest to
the southeast, while the Little Wind river flows east-
ward to its junction with the parent stream in the
southeastern corner of the reserve. Besides these two
great rivers, there are several large streams that water
the holdings of the fortunate redmen, among the princi-
pal ones being the Owl creek, which forms the northern
border of the reservation, the North Fork, the Big and
Little Popo-Agie, Beaver Creek, Muddy, Mill Creek and
Dry Creek, the latter being one of the innumerable
feeders of the Big Wind river.
196 WYOMING INDIANS OF TO-DAY.
Statistics from the Interior department place the
total number of Indians on the Shoshone or Wind River
reservation at 1,819. Of these 978 are Arapahoes and
841 are Shoshones. Of the former, there are 215 male
adults and 269 women, 233 male children and 261 fe-
male children; while of the Shoshones there are 212
men, 252 women, 203 male children and 174 female
children. From these figures it is easy to see that the
fear of an Indian outbreak in Wyoming is very slight
if the question be considered from the Wyoming Indian
standpoint. Such a contingency could only arise
through the joining of the turbulent Sioux on the east
and the Crow on the north with the Arapahoes on the
Wind River reservation, and even such a move would
be hard of consummation by reason of the watchfulness
over the Arapahoes on the part of their ancient foes,
the Shoshones.
Washakie, chief of the Shoshones, is reputed to be
over ninety years of age, and delights in the boast that
he has always been the firm friend of the white man ;
that he has never lifted his hand against his pale-faced
brother or allowed his blood to be spilled.
This grand old man is probably the best preserved
Indian on the Wind River reservation. His footstep is
as light and every movement of his body as graceful as
that of a young girl. There is nothing awkward about
him. Washakie is over six feet in height and weighs
nearly 250 pounds. His head sits proudly on a
short, full neck, and his shoulders are broad and slightly
tapering. He stands as erect as a giant oak. His fore-
TWYOMING INDIANS OF TODAY. 497
head is broad and high and but slightly wrinkled with
age, while his steel gray eyes are as bright and full of
fire as those of the mountain eagle. His hair, which
hangs in profusion over his shoulders, is white as the
spotless snow.
Altogether this remarkable savage furnishes an ideal
object for the student of Indian character. His
word is law, and no man of his tribe dare rebel against
it. His bravery is beyond question, and his hospitality
is as large as the glowing heart which beats within his
bosom.
Sharp Nose, the head chief of the Arapahoes, hates
this mighty man with all the venom of his treacherous
nature. Years ago, in battle, these two warriors met in
single combat. It was breast bared to breast against
that terrible weapon, the hunting knife. The contest was
witnessed by the warriors of both the chiefs. It was
long, terrific and bloody, and Sharp Nose has never for-
gotten or forgiven the magnanimous foe who overcame
but spared him. From that hour to the present day the
head chief of the Arapahoe nation has exerted an influ-
ence over those alone who were his immediate followers
in his former conflict with the Shoshones and the
sharers in his hatred of Chief Washakie.
Some years ago, when what is now the city of
Lander was a hamlet, Washakie’s oldest son, in com-
pany with half a dozen other young Indians, left the
Shoshone reservation for Lander, and finding the moth-
er of Isaac Axe (a woman over sixty years of age)
alone in the home of her son, attempted to commit a
498 WYOMING INDIANS OF TODAY.
brutal outrage upon her. The house was a log affair
consisting of one room, the single apartment being di-
vided in the center by curtains. The rear portion was
used as the living room. The screams of the old wo-
man attracted the attention of her nine-year-old grand-
son, Allie Axe, who, unknown to the Indians, was
amusing himself in the back yard. The boy hurriedly
entered the house by the rear door, and peeping
through the curtains, saw his aged grandmother strug-
gling with half a dozen young Shoshone fiends. Tak-
ing his father’s repeating rifle from its place against
the wall, the boy began pumping leaden objectors into
the body of the old lady’s assailants. The first shot
gave young Washakie a mortal wound, and his com-
panions hurriedly carried him from the house, placed
him on his horse and started for their home on the
reservation in hot haste, young Washakie dying before
he could be carried to the lodge of his father.
The tragic death of this young buck, a general
favorite with his tribe and in direct line as his fath-
er’s successor to the chieftaincy of the Shoshone na-
tion, created the wildest excitement on the reservation,
and it was but a short time before a large war party
was organized to go to Lander and wreak vengeance
upon the people for the death of the Shoshone favorite.
When old Chief Washakie heard of this, he sent
for the leaders of the movement, and said:
“If tibo (white man) come to Indian tepi and
outrage Indian squaw, kill him ; if Indian go to tibo's
tepi and outrage white squaw, kill him l’”
SHARP NOSE, CHIEF OF THE ARAPAHOES.

WYOMING INDIANS OF TODAY. 499
Deep and bitter as was his grief over the loss of
his boy, his savage sense of justice shone out even
brighter than his parental affection, and his people, un-
used to disobeying the commands of their revered chief,
laid away this grand old chieftain's son and buried
their hatred and cry for vengeance in the boy’s
sepulchre.
Strange as it may seem, the eastern “Lo, the poor
Indian * societies, tried in every way imaginable to
hound young Allie Axe into state prison for life for his
heroic defense of his aged grandparent, but they met
with very poor success.
At the time of the massacre of Custer’s command
on the Little Big Horn, Sharp Nose and a dozen other
Arapahoe cutthroats were participants in that butchery,
and sneaked back to the reservation in the same manner
they had stolen away from it.
Sharp Nose, the head chief of the 'Raps, has one
of the most villainous countenances imaginable. His
eyes are black and piercing, and his lips are thin and
indicate the utmost cruelty. His gait is very peculiar.
Although lamed from a wound received in battle, this
fact does not at all interfere with the serpentine glide
that characterizes his movements. He is an expert
horseman, and a man of remarkable powers of endur-
ance. He has not a single trait to redeem his natur-
ally low and groveling nature, and in the summer season
travels over the reservation roads with several degraded
squaws, disposing of their wares to a class of whites as
degraded as themselves.
500 Wyoming INDIANS OF ToDAY.
When the first white men went into the Popo-Agie
valley to find homes the country was wild and full of
danger. Half a dozen immigrants camped on the spot
where Lander was afterwards built. It is one of the
most beautiful and picturesque locations for a city in
the world, the center, too, of a rich agricultural section.
Two young and handsome women — wives of two of the
immigrants — were in the party of newcomers, and one
day they were left alone in camp while the men folks
prospected the valley. No pen can draw a picture of
the horror that presented itself to the men of the party
when they returned to the camp in the evening. One
of the women was a corpse; the other was suspended
in mid-air at the end of a sharp-pointed tepi pole, one
end of which had been thrust into the unfortunate wo.
man's abdomen, the other into a badger hole. Life
enough still remained in the young woman's body to
permit her to tell the horrible story of outrage and
murder. Sharp Nose and some twenty-five of his fol-
lowers had been at the camp in the absence of the
white men, satisfied their lustful desires and added mur-
der as a finale. Yet this same Sharp Nose was per-
mitted to live, and to-day is head chief of the Arapahoe
tribe!
In the winter of 1888, a man named William E.
Jewell went on the Shoshone reservation and secured
permission from the agent (Col. Thomas Jones, of
Georgia, a fine southern gentleman and a very humane
man, ) to trade for horses with the Indians. Early in
the spring of '89 his body was discovered in a bayou,
WYOMING INDIANS OF TODAY. 501
under the floating ice. A bullet through the head told
the cause of death. A coroner's jury sat upon the case,
and returned a verdict that deceased came to his death
at the hands of some person or persons unknown. This
was eminently satisfactory, so far as the jury was con-
cerned, but not to the author of these pages, who was
at that time editing the Lander Mountaineer. For three
months the newspaper man devoted his time to the
discovery of the perpetrators of the Jewell murder,
and was at last rewarded by finding nearly all the dead
man’s possessions in the tepis of Sharp Nose and Gar-
field Wolf (the latter a graduate of the Carlisle, Penn-
sylvania, Indian school). Warrants were sworn out, the
suspects were arrested and remained in jail awaiting
trial for nearly a year. There was evidence enough
against these two cold-blooded assassins to have hanged
them a dozen times over ; but, as in the case of Allie
Axe, the eastern sentimentalists became “interested '' in
the matter, plenty of money was furnished, clever law-
yers were retained, and when the case was called—the
Indians were turned loose. They returned to the reser-
vation to feast on dog and mock at the white man’s
“legal formulae''
The last congress, however, went so far as to make
the case of Sharp Nose an exceptional one, and granted
him a pension of twelve dollars a month ; but why this
was done, unless to reward him for the part he played
in the Custer massacre or to set this sum aside as a
premium on crime, would be hard to tell. There are
hundreds of deserving soldiers whose demands for pen-
502 WYOMING INDIANS OF TODAY.
sions have been persistently and cruelly ignored by the
Government — men who have sacrificed health and limb
in the service of the nation. To the man who keeps in
touch with national legislation, the giving of a good-sized
pension to Sharp Nose, in whose crime-steeped bosom
there burns nothing but the fires of the most bitter
hatred against the whites, and whose whole life has been
a never-ending chapter of savage cruelty, presents a
curious commentary on the boasted justice of our Gov-
ernment to the men who sacrificed everything upon the
altar of country. It is hardly compatible with sound
reason and good policy to pension the criminal savage
and ignore the deserving patriot, and the author desires
to enter his most emphatic protest against such unseemly
and un-American procedure.
There is a broad distinction between the women of
these two tribes — the Shoshones being susceptible of
rapid advancement, while the Arapahoe is lazy, lecherous
and repelling. Virtue is maintained to a remarkable
degree by the former, and is almost totally lacking in
in the latter. Intelligence among them is on about the
same plane as that upon which their estimates of virtue
stand. Plurality of wives is not sanctioned or practiced
among the Shoshones, while the Arapahoes disregard all
marital laws and every parental obligation.
Black Coal, who for many. years was the war chief
of the Arapahoes, and in later years the head chief of
the tribe, died in 1893. He was known among the
whites as a very good and kind-hearted man, though his
early life had been given up to cruelty and the warpath.
BLACK COAL, WAR CHIEF OF THE ARAPAHOES.

WYOMING INDIANS OF TODAY. 503
He had no voice in the naming of his successor, other-
wise Sharp Nose, whom Black Coal thoroughly detested
and abhorred, would never have risen to the head chief-
tancy.
As has been before remarked in this chapter, the
Arapahoe is not a progressive nation, and little, if any,
heed is paid to the selection of head men, especially now
when the tribal relation has been so broken by life on
reservations that it is but a memory. For these reasons
it was easy for Sharp Nose, cunning in all things, to se-
cure his election as the successor of Black Coal. The
Arapahoes thought a great deal of the latter chief, and
manifested sincere grief at his death. The influence of
Sharp Nose does not amount to much, at best; but he
is, of all the men of his tribe, the least to be trusted
with authority.

- º
ſºft\j
CHAPTER W.
MULTUM IN PARVO.
In answer to a letter requesting dates and facts re-
garding his life as a government scout, “Ben" Clark,
One of the most modest and brave plainsmen in the
country, writes Grouard as follows:
ForT RENO, O. T., June 20, 1894.
DEAR FRANK : —Your letter came all right and I was
glad to hear from you. I have no more pictures on hand.
except one which was copied from an old one taken in
April, 1869, at Camp Supply, when I was on the point
of starting to take a company of the Tenth Cavalry
'cross country to Fort Larned. It was taken by a clerk
in the Post Trader store, who was taking pictures for fun.
I left Fort Leavenworth on the 2d of June, 1857,
and drove team to Fort Bridger, enlisted in battalion of
U. S. volunteers at Bridger on December 3d, 1857, was
mustered out at Camp Floyd on 13th of August, 1858.
Camp Floyd was in Cedar Valley about sixty-five miles
south of Salt Lake City. I served three years and six
months in the war in the Sixth Kansas Cavalry. Was
guide for Gen. Sully in summer and early fall of 1868
in the Indian campaign. Was chief guide and scout for
BEN CLARKE, A BRAVE MAN AND CLEVER SCOUT.

MULTUN IN PARVO. 505
Custer from October, 1868, until Gen. Sheridan took the
field in person. After that was Sheridan's chief guide
until the close of the war in spring of 1869. I was as-
signed to Camp Supply by Gen. Schofield in May, 1869,
as post guide and interpreter. Was transferred to Fort
Reno in October, 1876, by order of Gen. Pope; have
belonged here ever since, though I have been away a
good deal on detached service under special orders. I
was chief guide for Gen. Miles in the summer, autumn
and winter of 1874. You remember of my being attached
to Gen. Crook’s command in 1876 on the Crazy Horse
trip.
The above is a brief record of my service, and I may
add that I have plenty of proof in the way of discharges
and so on to satisfy anyone as to the truth of it. You
know there are lots of Commanche Bill’s and Buffalo
Joe's, and such, with long handles to their names, whose
records are manufactured principally out of lies.
Well, Frank, wishing you success and good luck, I
remain, Yours very truly,
B. M. CLARK.

CHAPTER VI.
AN OLD TIMER's STORY.
O. P. Hanna, the subject of this sketch, was born in
Metamora, Illinois, May 10th, 1851. At eighteen years
of age he packed his “grip,” and started west on the
11th day of August, 1869. He landed on the headwaters
of the Yellowstone river, Montana, where Livingston now
stands. It was then a wild, unsettled country, inhabited
only by Indians (the Crow tribe). He had an anxiety
for a wild, frontier life, and he soon found a party of
hunters who made their living hunting, bear trapping and
poisoning wolves.
His history is quite interesting, and is given below
in his own words:
In a short while I could handle a gun with any of
them, and at the end of our hunting and trapping expe-
dition I could show as fine a lot of furs as any of them.
I could write pages describing my adventures during the
six years I spent on the headwaters of the Yellowstone;
but be it enough to say that I was with Professor Hay.
den (Geographical Surveyor), who explored and surveyed
the National Park to see if it was a suitable place for a
national reserve, and it was on his report that Congress
O. P. HANNA, FIRST SETTLER IN SHERIDAN COUNTY.

AN OLD TIMER'S STORY. 507
passed the bill to reserve that portion of Wyoming as a
National Park. That was in 1870. In 1872 I was scout
for Col. Baker’s expedition down the Yellowstone, and
was with him, when he had the fight with the Sioux at
Baker’s battle-ground, near where Billings now stands. I
was with Gen. Custer on one of his expeditions in the
Yellowstone country. I was also with the noted Bode-
man expedition, which consisted of one hundred and
forty-five old hunters, trappers and prospectors, that stood
off from eight hundred to two thousand Sioux Indians,
and fought their way to civilization for a distance of
two hundred and fifty miles.
In the spring of 1875, six of us hunters and trappers
built flat boats near Fort Benton on the Missouri river,
loaded them with furs and buffalo robes, and started
down the river for St. Louis, a distance of three thousand
five hundred miles. We arrived safely in Omaha in
about seventy days, and there disposed of our robes. We
had many adventures on the way down the river, and
were attacked by the Indians several times; but the
piles of robes on our boat offered good protection.
After spending the winters of ’75 and '76 at my old
home in Illinois, the spring found me in Denver, Colo-
rado, dead broke, and longing to be with my old comrades
on the headwaters of the Yellowstone, but having no way
to get there unless I walked. I found a party of English-
men that wanted a hunter and guide. After giving suffi-
cient proof that I was an old hand at the business, I
made a deal with them, and I was soon in the mountains
again, and happy. I put in the summer of '76 in the
508 AN OLD TIMER'S STORY.
mountains of Colorado. In the spring of 1877 I started
from Denver with pack animals for the Black Hills.
When I arrived in Cheyenne an expedition was organiz-
ing to take one hundred and twelve wagons with four
hundred and fifty work oxen (wagons all loaded with In-
dian supplies) to Pine Ridge Agency on White river.
There were eighty-five men in the expedition, and I soon
got a situation as hunter, there being plenty of game in
the country which we had to travel through. We got as
far as Red Cloud Agency (where Crawford now stands),
and there we learned that the Indians at Pine Ridge were
on the warpath, and we were ordered by the Interior De-
partment to lay up at Red Cloud until we had received
further orders. We stayed there for eight months.
Finally the Indian trouble was settled, and we pulled down
White river and turned the outfit over to old Chief Red
Cloud.
Out of a job again, with a rigging, horse and pack
horses, myself and a little fellow by the name of Fergu-
son started early in 1878 for my old camping ground,
Bozeman, or the headwaters of the Yellowstone. It was
only seven hundred miles across an uninhabitable coun-
try, but that little distance to travel on horseback was
nothing in those days. In about three weeks from the
time we started we camped on Clear creek, northern
Wyoming, where Fort McKinney now stands.
There were several companies of soldiers camped
there. They were laying out the grounds for the new
fort. As we had traveled over three hundred miles,
without seeing anyone or hearing any news, it was a
AN OLD TIMER'S STORY. 509
treat to talk with some one besides ourselves. We laid
over there for two days. Met Frank Grouard, the scout,
there; and when he found that I was with the noted
Bodeman and other expeditions on the Yellowstone when
he was with the Indians, we had quite an interesting
time talking the matter over.
On the morning of August 10th we packed up and
started on our journey for Bozeman. When pulling
down onto the Piney, where old Fort Phil Kearney used
to stand, Ferguson says, “By thunder Hanna, I believe
there is a woman.” Looking ahead, sure enough, there
was a woman. On arriving at the cabin we found Mr.
and Mrs. T. J. Foster. As we hadn’t seen a woman in
two months, you can imagine what a treat it was to sit
down to a nice clean meal, cooked by a woman, and
enjoy her company while eating it.
Mr. and Mrs. Foster had a nice garden, and they
insisted on us helping ourselves to all the green gro-
, ceries we wanted. After laying over there a day we
went on our journey. As we pulled across Massacre Hill
and along the head of the Prairie Dog, I thought it was
the prettiest country I ever set my eyes on. The grass
was knee high, and nothing to eat it but wild game.
When coming down into Little Goose Creek valley,
where Big Horn City now stands, it was a grand sight,
and I said to Ferguson:
“Charlie, there is a future for this country. This
land, in a few years, will be valuable. I am going to
drive my stake.”
He looked around and said:
510 AN OLD TIMER'S STORY.
“My God, man, are you crazy? What will you do
here 2 °
“Take up a ranch and quit running around, ”
“Yes, take up a ranch and get killed by the In-
dians, ’’ was his response. Although he did not approve
of the idea, he finally consented to stop with me for a
while, anyway.
The next two days we looked the country over,
and found there was but one cabin partly finished in
what is now Sheridan County. We learned later that it
was built by road agents and horse thieves. Quite a
number of suspicious characters called at our camp. In
the course of ten days I had located my ranch just
above Big Horn, and had constructed a neat little cabin
about ten feet square—large enough for me, though.
The next question was, how were we going to make
a living ? But I soon solved that question. I went
over to Fort McKinney (forty miles south) and found
that the soldiers had to depend on getting wild meat,
or go without, as there were no cattle nearer than two
hundred miles of the fort. I soon closed a contract
with the commanding officer to furnish three thousand
pounds of elk, deer and other wild meat every week.
I got a hunter by the name of White, as he had two
mule teams and wagons, to go with me. We got two
men to drive the teams and deliver the meat to the
fort, and while he and I did the hunting. Game was
so plentiful that we would often load down both
wagons in half a day. Bear was plentiful. I killed
eight the first two months I was hunting. Fishing
was fine ; could catch forty or fifty pounds daily.
.AN OLD TIMER'S STORY. * 511
In the fore part of the winter there was a mail
route established from Rock Station on the Union
Pacific railroad, by way of Fort McKinney and Fort Cus-
ter, to Junction Station on the Yellowstone, a distance
of five hundred miles. It was a weekly, and Ferguson
and I took the sub-contract to carry it from F ort Mc.
Henry to Fort Custer. As mail pouches were scarce, he
generally put the letters in his pocket. The weekly
gathering of mail consisted of three or four letters. We
carried it on horseback. Ferguson did most of the rid-
ing, and when he would reach the ranch he wonld lay
what he called the United States mail on the mantel-
shelf for a day or two and go with me and have a hunt.
A man by the name of Fisher had the contract; had
taken it very cheap ; went broke and Ferguson never
got anything for his services. He was held up several
times by the road agents. They would examine the con-
'tents of the letters to see if there was anything of value.
If there wasn’t anything to pay them for their trouble
they would warn him that the next time they caught
him on the road with the mail without something of
value they would “shoot his light out. ”
The spring of ’79 Patrick brothers secured the con-
tract and got it increased to a daily ; put on buckboards
and went flying through the country, although I could
have carried all the mail at the time in my coat pocket.
They got, so I understood, about ninety thousand dollars
a year. It was one of the great Star Route swindles.
But it was a good thing for the country. It helped to
develop it.
512 AN OLD TIMER'S STORY.
In the fall of '78 a merchant by the name of A.
Trabing, from Laramie City, put up some log buildings
on Crazy Woman, and laid in a stock of general mer.
chandise. Trabing had gone back to Laramie and left a
man by the name of Bowman as manager. One evening
there were four or five men in there talking, when they
heard the command at the door, “Hands up.” Looking
toward the door, they found double-barreled shot guns
staring them in the face. They were being held up by
the road agents. The men in the store were all ordered
to stand facing a big pile of flour, and one fellow
guarded them while the leader of the gang (said to be
Jesse James) took oyer one hundred dollars’ worth of
goods, bade the manager good night, told him he had a
very nice stock of goods, and that he could count on
him as one of his regular customers.
Two days after the robbery of Trabing I was hunt-
ing up Little Goose creek. I had wounded a deer and
was trailing it through the brush, when I ran into a camp
in the thick brush. It belonged to this same gang that
had gone through Trabing's store. The thieves were
looking the goods over. I tried to step back without
them seeing me ; but they saw me and were up with
gun in hand ready for defense in a moment. As soon
as I found they had seen me, I walked towards camp,
looking as innocent as I could, with a
“Halloo, boys, you have a nice camp. Did you see
anything of a deer go through 2 I wounded one and
trailed it into the brush here.”
I was very careful to keep my back on the pile of
AN" OLD TIMER'S STORY. 513
new clothes and groceries. It was a tough gang. They
had ditched a train on the Union Pacific railroad in the
fall for the purpose of robbing it, and a posse of men
followed them and laid for them in Red Canyon, when
the holdups killed two deputy sheriffs. The Union
Pacific railroad offered a big reward for their capture.
They were known to be in the Big Horn country. I
had written down to the authorities on the Union Pacific
road and got a description of all the gang, and was also
getting paid for reporting anything in regard to them.
If they had examined my pockets they would have found
a description of the whole party, consisting of seven. I
would not have lasted long if they had done so. But I
played it so well that I got out all right without their
suspecting me, though they warned me not to tell anyone
where they were camped.
That night I went to Fort McKinney and sent a
dispatch to Laramie that I had found the camp of
the whole gang. I then went back to my ranch,
and that night Big Nosed George, one of the gang, rode
up and wanted to know if I had any liniment, as his
horse had fallen on him and hurt his knee. I gave him
some liniment. He stayed all night. There was a three
thousand dollar reward for him and I knew it, and could
have arrested him easily, but had no place to take him.
There were about twenty men left Laramie shortly after
I notified them where this gang was. They rode night
and day, but the gang got wind of it, and when they got
into the country the gang had flown to the Yellowstone.
Before they left they held up the Trabing store the second
514 AN OLD TIMER'S STORY,
time, notwithstanding the fact that the manager kept
guards around the store night and day.
The Union Pacific Railroad authorities wanted me to
follow the gang to the Yellowstone, but I did not want
any more of it; wouldn’t have lasted long if they had
caught me on their trail in that country.
Mr. and Mrs. T. J. Foster were held up during the
Winter. The gang hung Mr. Foster up by the neck until
he was almost dead, to make him tell where his money
was, as they thought he had quite a boodle. They also
held up old Tony Yetzer's ranch on Big Goose creek, and
took what they wanted. The stage was held up regularly
at what is now known as “Hold-up Hollow,” north of
Fort Fetterman. They went through the mails. I had
written a letter to the detectives on the Union Pacific.
The robbers got the letter. Shortly after this I got a
picture of a man hanging by the neck and a notice giv-
ing me twenty-four hours to leave the country. I sent
them word that I was not going, and if I caught any of
them around my cabin they would get a “darn warm
reception.” That night I dug a hole under the hill in
front of my cabin and moved my bed there. For the
next month I never sat down to a meal without my gun
across my lap.
I learned later that a gang of them met one night
for the purpose of stringing me up if I didn’t leave the
country; but, as I was known to be one of the best shots
in the country, the wise heads in the gang concluded it
was a rather dangerous undertaking, and so decided to
leave me alone.
AN OLD TIMER'S STORY. 515
In the spring of ’79. I desired to put in a small
crop on my ranch. I had no seed nor plow, and
Cheyenne was the nearest point where I could procure
them. I got me a light wagon, hitched up a couple of
ponies, and, the last of February, started for Cheyenne.
I was gone about six weeks; traveled altogether about
seven hundred miles; camped out all the time, but ar-
rived safely at my ranch in April, with the first plow
that ever broke sod in Sheridan County. I also bought
six hundred pounds of oats and some garden seeds.
Charley Farwell was in Big Horn then. He had a large
team and helped me do the plowing. I got in about
seven acres of oats and garden during the summer.
Cattle and cattlemen poured into the country from all
sections, and the horse -thieves and road agents had to
take a back seat. I raised a fine garden" and had a
ready market at my own price. In the fall I flailed
out about three hundred bushels of oats and sold them
at ten cents per pound, or a seamless sack full for ten
dollars.
In December, 1879, I received a letter from my
old friend, Jim White, the buffalo hunter, saying he had
found a good place to hunt buffalo. It was on the
head of Sundy creek, on the Yellowstone, in Montana.
Although it was two hundred and twenty-five miles
away, snow deep and very cold, I decided to go to him.
I packed a pony, and, with a good riding horse, set out.
I was ten days making the journey. The weather was
very cold, and I never saw a soul for the first two
hundred miles. When I got to White's camp I found
516 - AN old TIMER'S STORY,
him with three men building a “shack” out of buffalo
hides to live in. He was expecting me, as we had an
understanding before he left Goose creek that if he
found a good camp I was to come. Buffaloes were very
plentiful. We hired six skinners and went to work. In
two months we had twenty-five hundred hides, and were
killing from forty to sixty animals per day, and clearing
at least fifty dollars. Notwithstanding we made money
so fast, it was not our luck for good fortune to last.
Although it was in a hostile country, we had thus far.
seen no signs of Indians. - -
On the 10th we had killed about sixty buffaloes, and
about sundown White said if I would go in and get Sup-
per he would help the skinners, as they were behind with
their work. We had eleven head of horses and mules,
and they were grazing just above camp. I went into
the “dugout” and started a fire. After starting the
fire I went out and looked in the direction of the horses
and saw about twenty Indians after them. I fired several
shots after them, but to no purpose. They got away
with every hoof of stock. Well, we had a “red hot ” time
from then on to protect our hides. The snow was so deep
we couldn’t get them to Miles City to market, so we had
to stay there and guard them for six weeks. We finally
got them to Miles City and sold them, and after paying all
expenses we were losers; but later we got our mules back.
In May, White and I came back to the Big Horn
mountains. I rented my ranch to a man by the name of
Benefield. White was killed in the mountains that season
by a man named Miller who was hunting with him. They
3.
AN OLD TIMER'S STORY. 917
had some whiskey and got into a drunken row. There is
no doubt but that White had killed more buffaloes than
any man in the world. Killed sixteen thousand in seven
years in Texas alone.
In July ’80 I got a letter from Richard Frewen of
Powder river wanting me to guide a party of English
lords from London on a bear hunt in the mountains. I
went down there and made a bargain with them at eight
dollars per day. I went out with several parties during
the summer. We had killed thirteen large bear during
the season, and the last one gave me a terrible shaking
up. I was out hunting with a lord by the name of Wise.
We had wounded a large grizzly and had trailed it to a
brushy swamp. The Englishman wanted to trail it into
the brush, but I wouldn’t go, as I knew we would be
taking desperate chances, and I was satisfied the bear
would be on the fight. I told the Englishman to go
around the brush one way and I would go the other, and
we would try and get a shot at bruin. The Englishman
did not go far until he saw the brute. He gave it a
shot and the bear made for him. The Englishman beat
a hasty retreat with the bear at his heels. I was stand-
ing about fifty yards away. I got in a shot just in time
to save the Englishman. The bear would have had him
in another jump. The bear fell when I shot, and the
Englishman had time to get behind a bunch of brush,
out of its sight, but I was in plain view. With one roar
that made the mountains ring, it made for me. I got
another cartridge in my gun, and when the bear was
within about fifteen feet of me I let him have it. I
518 AN OLD TIMER'S STORY.
then wheeled and ran and tried to reload my gun, but
caught it in a sage brush, and it flew out of my hands.
I reached to get it, and here the bear came again. I did
not have time to get my gun, but I had a good six-
shooter which I pulled out, and just then I fell over a
sagebrush, and in an instant the bear was on me." I fired
six shots into him with my six-shooter, and he rolled off
of me dead. The Englishman was shooting at him all
the time. Just as liable to hit me as the bear, though.
I had a very heavy buckskin shirt on, and it protected
me some, but I was bleeding from head to foot when I
got on my feet. I finally got to camp and laid there for
twenty days, not able to get up without assistance. The
Englishman gave me the best care he could ; stayed with
me night and day; said that I saved his life, and he
couldn’t do too much for me. I have not hunted bear
much since ; came to the conclusion that a man was
foolish to take the chances.
During the summer of ’80 the country settled up
rapidly. Over fifteen thousand head of cattle were driven
in during the summer. In the spring of ’81 a few others
and myself organized a town and called it Big Horn
City. It was the first town laid out in Northern
Wyoming. We also took steps toward organizing Johnson
County. I was foreman of the first grand jury in John-
son County, and we were in session six days.
&
[Mr. Hanna is one of Sheridan's (Wyo.) most pros-
perous business men, and is the present postmaster. He
is identified with the growth of Sheridan, and holds a
AN OLD TIMER'S STORY. 519
warm place in the affection of her people. The picture
of this gentleman found in these pages is an excellent
reproduction from a photograph taken quite recently.
Not being old (except in adventure) he has settled down
to enjoy the fruits of his early labors, and fortune hav-
ing favored him, he leads a life of contentment within
easy distance of his old haunts — “The headwaters of
the Yellowstone.”
CHAPTER VII.
A SAMPLE “ONE-HORSE HOLDUP.”
To show what exasperating conditions confronted
the early settlers of Northern Wyoming, the following
letter is published. Mr. Foster, the writer, is Register of
the United States Land Office at Buffalo, and still “holds
‘down” the ranch he took up on the advice and with the
assistance of Frank James:
BUFFALO, Wyo., August 24, 1894.
FRIEND DE BARTHE:—Your favor of the 18th instant
received today, and in compliance with your request, in
regard to our (my and wife's) Wyoming history, will say
as follows:
We came from Idaho in the summer of 1876 to
Laramie, Wyoming, where shortly afterwards I began the
occupation of a freighter, on a small scale, which I con-
tinued until the spring of 1878, when we took up our
line of travel for a location in the Big Horn country,
leaving a point about thirty-five miles northwest of Chey-
enne on the 10th of April of that year. We arrived on
Clear creek, in what is now Johnson county, and near
the present site of Buffalo, on May 6th, when we were
met by a man with whom we had been acquainted
MRS. T. J. FOSTER, THE FIRST NORTHERN WYOMING LADY SETTLER.


A SAMPLE “ONE-HORSE HOLDUP.” 521
during the previous spring, and who insisted upon our
going to the site of the abandoned Post of Phil Kearney,
instead of looking for a location in the Clear Creek
valley, as we had about concluded to do. As there was
not yet an 'actual settler between Powder river and Fort
Custer, we had the selection of a location in our own
hands, with the whole northern Wyoming to choose
from; and it was considered advisable, in view of the
fact that the Post of Fort McKinney, then on Powder
river, was on the point of removal to its present location
on Clear creek, and the probability of a reservation of
uncertain dimensions being declared, to act upon the
advice of our former acquaintance, and at least see some
of the fine country to the north.
Accordingly, on the 8th of May we passed to the
site of the old Post of Phil Kearney, and, concluding it
was good enough to camp on, we did so, inspecting the
surrounding country the next day, and fully deciding to
remain.
Our life for the initial year was uneventful, although
prosperous; and, by the way, our prosperity seemed in a
fair way to become our ruin. For, although during our
first year's residence on the Piney we did fairly well,
enjoying the benefit of a monopoly of the truck trade
of the new fort (McKinney), raising the first garden
between Colorado and the Yellowstone, selling every-
thing at a little more than the Irishman’s “one per
cent profit,” we readily acquired a reputation as cap-
italists, arousing the cupidity of certain gentlemen of
the road, who, to the number of three the following
522 A SAMPLE “ONE-HORSE HOLDUP.”
w
spring – April 17, 1879–made a descent upon our little
log mansion (built for a hen house) while no one but
myself, wife and little boy, the latter but four years of
age, was about, presented their little guns (forty-five Colts)
with the injunction “Throw up your hands,” which order
was promptly obeyed.
They then, after securely tying my hands behind me
and facing us all to the wall, proceeded to ransack the house
for any surplus cash which might be lying around loose.
In this they were only partially successful, obtaining but
fifteen dollars, including what was in the little boy's
safe (a cigar box), it containing money to the amount of
seven or eight dollars.
Not being satisfied with the extent of the enterprise,
and feeling certain that we were the possessors of “untold
wealth,” they then marched me, bound and blindfolded,
to the barn, a log structure, and proceeded to administer
what, in their minds, would be an antidote for my
reticence in regard to the location of my supposed “cache,”
which, they maintained, must exist in the immediate
neighborhood. Placing a rope they found in the barn
around my neck, they pulled me up and allowed me to
remain long enough to pass over the “big divide,” which
I did to all intents and purposes.
Upon regaining consciousness, after what seemed but
a few minutes, they again demanded to know the where-
abouts of my hidden wealth, and emphasized their de-
mands by a series of kicks and blows upon my person,
which I was helpless to avoid or mitigate in the least.
Upon being told, as soon as I was able to speak, that
A SAMPLE “ONE-HORSE HOLDUP.” 523
they had already secured all that was available, and
finding that threats were productive of no results, they
again pulled on their little rope, but through their fear
of carrying the matter too far, as I heard expressed by
them in the first instance before my complete recovery,
they did not allow me to remain suspended long enough
for complete loss of consciousness, but instead, employed
all their “eloquence,” and not a little muscle, finally
cocking a revolver with the threat to “croak” me “any-
way,” in order to persuade me to “give away the
cache.”
Finally, with the remark that I was “a good one,”
we, “the jolly four,” returned to the house, where
the chief, not being satisfied with the former
search, conducted by the other two, began a sys-
tematic hunt on his own account. Failing to unearth
anything further in the form of lucre, we were informed
that if we would kindly prepare supper for them they
would quit us, to which proposition we very readily
agreed, and in due time a very elaborate frontier spread
was being enjoyed by the worthies, which, being com-
pleted, they proceeded to possess themselves of our
horses, three in number, with saddle and accouterments,
the principal part of my best clothing, all the provisions
they could take (of which we had a good supply), with
all the firearms in the house—three or four pieces—
when, about midnight, they bid us a fond adieu.
By the way, I must not omit to mention that the
“former acquaintance ’’ who piloted us from Clear creek
tº ; the old fort, was no other than Frank James, the
524 & , A SAMPLE “ONE-HORSE HOLDUP.”
notorious Missouri bandit, of which fact I had no sus-
picion until informed by the man himself, after two or
three months of the most pleasant acquaintance. For a
time we entertained some doubt as to his being the ver-
itable Frank James, but from our minds all doubt has
since been removed. He has passed from our personal
knowledge since the following fall, but we hold him in
kindly remembrance for the kindnesses shown us during
our short acquaintanceship. He never advised any one
to follow in his footsteps, and was never known to en-
gage in any one-horse holdups. He was after bigger
game—feared not to take the chances, and would have
been an invincible ally in our case of robbery, had he
been present.
I cheerfully enclose photos of myself and Mrs. Foster,
taken nine or ten years ago, and, if I thought it neces-
sary, would make the use of her picture a condition of
the use of mine. She is the pioneer woman settler of
northern Wyoming.
I probably may have been more successful in the
matter of length than interest in this account, and will
say, if the former, it is easily abbreviated, while if less
complete you could not readily add to it. Abbreviate
and season to taste. No fiction in it.
With the wish for the greatest success in your enter-
prise, I remain, Yours very truly,
T. J. FOSTER.
CAPT. JOHN SMITH, ONE OF THE “HORSESHOE FIGHT" HEROES.


CHAPTER VIII.
THE BATTLE OF HORSE SEIOE CREEK.
TRABING, Wyoming, December 20, 1893.
FRIEND DE BARTHE:—I herewith enclose (as per your
request) a true statement of the “Horse Shoe” fight,
which occurred in this immediate vicinity in 1868. I
have written it out in my own way, explaining details as
well as I can remember them. A quarter of a century
is a long while, and old people’s memories fail, you know.
Yours respectfully,
(Capt.) JOHN R. SMITH.
The attack was made on the morning of March 19th,
1868, the fight lasting three days.
At about 8 o’clock on the morning of the date given,
Chief Crazy Horse, with his band of Ogallala and Minne-
conjou Indians, numbering sixty-seven, came to our ranch,
where Marion Thornburg, Bill Worrell, Bill Hill and my-
self were living. Our place was known as the Horse
Shoe road ranch, formerly kept by the notorious overland
stage agent, Slade, who was afterwards hanged in Mon-
tana. The Indians secreted themselves behind a butte
some four hundred yards from the house. The first warn-
ing we had that anything was up was given by the dogs,
526 THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK.
who scented the Indians, there being a stiff breeze blow.
ing at the time. Thornburg and myself volunteered to go
to the top of the butte to see what was up. Worrell
and Hill were to stay at the house and watch while we
were gone. The dogs went along with us, and at once
Scampered up the butte. The Indians, anxious to see
what effect the barking of the dogs would have on those
at the house, stuck up their heads so the boys in the
house could see them ; but we were far enough under
the butte to miss the signals our companions were trying
to give us to return.
Seeing a coup stick, I told Thornburg, and he gazed
at it with the remark, “Yes, and it did not grow there.”
Just then the dogs raised the top of the butte, and the
Indians jumped to their feet and came rushing toward
us, yelling and shooting as they ran. Thornburg and I
retreated toward the house until we got down to the flat,
stopping there and returning the Indians’ fire. They split
up into two parties, then, one going around the house in
one direction, the other in another. We made a run for
the house, and made it, opened the port holes, barred the
door and got ready for a siege. The fight was pretty
warm for the rest of the day, the Indians losing two men
and having two wounded. We had plenty to eat, but
nothing to drink except Red Jacket bitters, and we took
a good many drinks to the ill-health of old Red Cloud,
whom we thought at that time was leading the attack.
We finally had to have water. The Indians had set
the stockade afire, and the well was inside this en-
closure. So we drew lots to see which one would go for
THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK. 527
the water. It was settled in this way, that Worrell and
Hill should draw the water, while Thornburg and myself
were making a rush at the Indians, most of whom were
in hiding behind a pile of telegraph poles across the
road. But when we made the charge, we discovered that
the Indians had left their place of hiding and concen-
trated behind the stockade, so that when Worrell and Hill
made the attempt to draw the water, they opened fire
on them, and we had to retreat to the house in quick
time. Then the red devils set fire to the stables and
killed two of our horses and one mule, badly wounding
a third animal. When night came the Indians drew off
to Twin Springs, three miles from our ranch, where they
secured food from old man Muso, Bill Harper and
George Harris, who were keeping a road ranch at the
Springs.
They did not come back to us until after dark, but
did not show themselves in the light of the fires, which
were still burning, but got off some little distance and
barked like coyotes and hooted like owls to draw us out.
Their cunning tricks did not work, however. We put in
a long and tiresome night. When daylight came it
showed in sight, now and then, black heads peeping
from hiding places. We soon opened up the fight
again. About 10 o'clock Lieutenant Norton of the
Second United States Cavalry, came up, accompanied by
“ Doc * Mathews, Crow Indian agent, with annuities.
The Indians left while they stopped, which was only a
short time, and when they passed on out of sight the
redskins returned and engaged us for the balance of the
528 THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK.
evening to the queen's taste. They felt on all sides and
ends of the house and got all the port-holes located after
dark came on.
Along about 10 o'clock at night they crept up to
the house and commenced building a fire between the
port-holes, which began to put us to thinking and plan-
ning. Knowing the house would be in flames in a short
time we made up our minds to crawl down into our
little fort, which was dug in the ground ; a sod wall was
built up around it on top of the ground about three feet
high, making it high enough to stand up in and room
enough for four men. The walls being eighteen inches
thick, a ball would not penetrate it. We had some four
or five port-holes in it. We had a dug way to it which
led from the floor of the kitchen, some ten or twelve
feet from the walls of the house. After entering the
tunnel we took a shovel and filled the entrance with dirt.
After we all got into the fort the house was well
under headway burning. The house was built of pitch
pine, and it was not long until the roof was tumbling
in. The roof was dirt covered, and, being very heavy,
smothered the fire to a considerable extent, so that it did
not make much light. Our plans were soon laid. When
it got dark, we took our shovel and commenced cutting
the sod wall down sufficiently to get out, which we
quietly did, while the red devils were dancing and howl-
ing with glee to think we were burning up. In slipping
out, we got hold of the horse which had been wounded,
and put what extra clothing we had on the animal, under
the shadow of a bluff near the east side of the ranch.
\ 2’
THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK. 529
The Indians, all being on a bluff west of the house, could
Inot see us.
Then we started for Twin Springs to join George
Harris and Bill Harper. I forgot to state that Muso,
after the Indians had visited him, took his half-breed
family and went to Fort Fetterman the previous day
with Lieut. Norton’s train, so we were six strong
when Harper and Harris joined us. We then com-
menced, all hands 'round, to talk over our situation.
We thought it was quite dangerous to stay there and
fight, as we felt that we might have to fight until
our ammunition was exhausted before a train would come
along so that we could get away. However, we came
to the conclusion to dig a hole down under the mid-
dle of the house and cache all the ranch property, or
goods, such as flour, sugar, coffee, tea, canned goods and
some wet goods (in the shape of a ten gallon keg of
whiskey.) We worked like beavers and when daylight
came we had our cache completed.
We reconnoitered to see if the Indians were near
about, but could not see any. We had decided that night
to burn the ranch house down, and when the dirt roof
fell in it would hide all traces of our cache. . This was
the third morning since the attack, and a beautiful morn-
ing it was. We lit a fire in the house and closed every
crevice and opening so the flames would be confined.
This action, we calculated, would give us time to get quite
a ways off before the Indians discovered the fire. We
decided to go to Fort Laramie, thirty-six miles to the east,
and started. On the road we would come to the one
530 THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK.
intervening ranch kept by Bill Wilson and Jim Bellamy,
which was situated on the Big Cottonwood, eleven miles
away. We had put all our clothing on the two horses
and one mule we still possessed. One of the horses be:
longed to George Harris and the mule was the property
of Bill Harper. Harris and Harper, not having been in
the previous two days’ fight, had plenty of ammunition,
but the rest of us had but little. About eleven o’clock
we met a man on the road named David Dampier (a
Frenchman who had been in the employ of the Hudson
Bay Fur Company), to whom we related our experience.
He informed us that he was on his way to Twin Springs
to hunt his horse, which was running on the Platte river
at a point called Bull's Bend, some three miles (as we
informed Dampier) from where Crazy Horse and his
renegades were camped. When the Frenchman heard this
he remarked that he didn’t want any horse, and started
back with us. We trudged along until we struck the
foothills on the west side of Little Bitter Cottonwood.
Looking back from this point over a level plain, we
discovered a band of sixty-three Indians coming from the
direction of Bull’s Bend. They were about three-quarters
of a mile away, and were coming for us as fast as their
ponies would carry them. Our party of seven looked
rather small beside this big crowd. The Indians were
well armed with guns and bows and arrows, and had
plenty of ammunition. We made for the foothills, but
were soon entirely surrounded. When the Indians made
their charge, their yelling and shouting stampeded our
horses, and the animals departed with all our worldly
THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK. 531
effects. What money had been in the possession of the
crowd had been given to me, some five hundred dollars,
and I had placed this money in the pocket of a pair of
pants which had been put in the pack on one of the
horses. Later on I saw these pants (with the unmention-
able part of them cut out) on one of the Indians, so I
Smppose he fell heir to the money.
By 12 o'clock things had become pretty warm. I
had stopped among some rocks, and pine to get a shot
at Chief Crazy Horse, the rest of the party going to the
top of a knoll, sparsely covered with small pines. One
of the Indians crept up the hill and took a shot at me,
the ball passing through my clothing, grazing the skin
over my heart, and flattening itself against the rock be-
hind me. As I could not get a chance to shoot the sav-
age, I moved my position with considerable haste, join-
ing my companions on the knoll. As I reached this
spot Bill Harper turned and faced me, with the spear
of an arrow almost buried in his right eye. He pulled
the spear out with his own hand, and the contents of
the eye followed it; and, with the blood running down
his cheek, he remarked, “I will fight that much harder.”
During this time we were being surrounded, with the
exception of a small space to our southwest, and the In-
dians, getting well located in the rocks and pine timber,
had a great deal the best of it. I made the remark to
Bill Worrell that we had better get out of that onto
lower ground, so we started southwest—the weakest por.
tion of the Indian lines—and cut our way through to
get up to some high cedar badlands, or brakes, on
532 THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK.
the top of which was a large level plain. The
Indians, being afoot, it gave us quite a little start while
they were getting their horses to follow us up; but we
were trapped in the cedar brakes, the Indians beating us
to the top of the hills and cutting us off from the level
plain. Our chances were bad, then, for getting on any
kind of ground to give them a fight, so we had to take.
shelter in a deep washout, a waterfall, rather, where they
completely surrounded us. . “..
We had done but little execution up to this time.
As far as we could discover we had disabled but
few of the savages. We made a fight in this position
for about two hours, during which time they got a
chance to locate us and shoot arrows into us. Many
gunshots were fired by the Indians, but piles of ar-
rows were fired into this washout and rocks were thrown
in on us. We kept up a hot fire most of the time
the rocking melee lasted. Bill Harper got hit over the
left eye, the flesh being shaved down, and covering the
eye completely, which disabled him. We were getting
badly used up. I was watching to get a shot at an In-
dian about twenty feet from where we stood, who had
thrown a stone and hit the side plate on my Winchester
and almost disabled it. The gun worked, but hard.
While watching, I saw him throw, or saw his hand come
in sight, and a rock larger than my two fists came over
and hit me in the forehead, cutting a terrible gash and
scruffing the skull up and knocking me half senseless.
l During this time all of us were getting pounded
more or less over the body, and while George Harris and
THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK. 583
myself were lying close together at the lower end of
the washout, an arrow was shot, passing through Harris's
coat sleeve, also going into my coat sleeve at the elbow,
scraping the hide off my arm for about six inches, and
pinning Harris and myself together. Things were now
getting “hand to hand.” The Indians set the cedar
timber on fire, and the smoke was nearly suffocating us.
I suggested the idea of cutting our way back to the hol-
low a few hundred yards, and then quitting the hollow
and going west a couple of miles, which would put us
on level ground near what is known as the Cheyenne
Cut-off road. The suggestion was agreed to, and I, being
at the lower end of the hole, was to make the break,
which I did ; and when I raised up to run, I went to
shooting as fast as I could, as there was plenty of red
game to shoot at. I made it through the line of In-
dians, with the balance of the boys following. Bill Har-
per came last, with one hand holding the mangled flesh
up out of his left eye, so he could see. As I stated
before, he had his right eyeball shot out by an arrow,
and he could not see how to get along very fast. While
we were running and fighting and driving the Indians
off of Harper, I think we did more execution than we
had all the rest of the day, for they crowded on us
close.
The first to fall was poor Bill Harper, and a part
of the red devils stopped to finish and mutilate him.
Worrell and I stopped and fired a few shots as the In-
dians had bunched up around Harper, and we got our
work in in good shape, getting some of them. I turned
534 THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK.
to run and catch up with the boys, and got shot through
the right arm with an arrow. I pulled the arrow out of
my arm and caught up with Harris, Thornburg, Dampier,
and Bill Hill, when Worrell came up behind with an ar-
row through his left foot, severing all the tendons on the
top, side and back of his toes, crippling him badly. Just
as we got together the Indians were leaving Harper,
having finished him. They then made another rush on
us with bows and arrows, one arrow hitting Bill Hill
in the back of the head. At this time we were leaving
the hollow to the west for level ground, and Dave Dam-
pier yelled:
“I am be-damned if I go any further l’”
At that instant a ball struck him in the back, and
he never spoke again, but started and ran to a blown
down pine tree distant about twenty steps, and fell under
it. Our party was then reduced to five, with three of us
wounded. Marion Thornburg and myself took Hill be-
tween us and started to reach the level plain a mile away.
While the Indians were running back to get their horses
and some had stopped to scalp Dampier, we got off from
under fire as much as a half a mile, where we had to leave
Bill Hill. He had bled so much from his wound that
he was about gone, being too weak to walk any further.
He begged us to shoot him, but we couldn’t do it. After
we had gone perhaps forty yards, I looked back to see
if the Indians were coming, and I saw the smoke from
a small Colt's five-shooter which Hill had on him. The
poor fellow had ended his misery by blowing the whole
top of his head off. The Indians soon got to him, where
they all stopped to scalp him.
THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK. 535
That gave us sufficient time to get out on the flat,
where we waited for them to come. They came up to a
dry sand creek where we had crossed, and stopped in the
bed of this gulch, about four hundred yards from us.
We could see when they came up out of the gulch that
they were not all there, and could see some of them
packing their dead and wounded off down to Bull's Bend
on the Platte river. After they saw our position and
knew there were but four of us left, they (over forty in
number) formed in line and charged us. We repulsed and
split them, but they circled around us with a great deal
of whooping and yelling. This move was repeated three
times before they gave it up. We stood our ground
without a quiver. We felt that the position we held was
the one we had been trying to get all day, and as we
had it we would hold it to the last. So, with seven of
their number killed and one almost dead, making eight in
all, the Indians concluded to give the fight up, satisfied,
seemingly, in making a treaty with us, which was done
right then and there.
We maneuverd with them until we got to talk with
one of them, he going back and forwards three times.
Chief Crazy IIorse finally came up and we told him what
we would give him out of what we had cached back four
or five miles at the Twin Springs ranch. We were all
feeling pretty well played out. The excitement dying out,
we began to realize that our ammunition was about ex-
hausted. I had then nineteen rounds left (out of three
hundred and seventy-five in the three days’ fight), and the
rest of the party were in about the same boat. We were
536 THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK.
glad to talk treaty. The Indians were sometime consid-
ering our proposition, but finally the chief came up and
said it was “Washta.”
“You four brave men. We kill three of you. We
don’t want to fight you any more,” remarked Crazy Horse.
This Indian could talk fair English. He further said
their last supper was no good, and they would go back
with us. We told Crazy Horse to fetch three men with
him and keep the rest back; we would go back to the
Twin Springs ranch with them and give them the grub.
The sun was then getting low, perhaps two hours high,
when we started. We walked as fast as we could. We
were very thirsty, having been without water all day.
At last we came to the great springs, and all the Indians
came up also. I remember one Indian carrying an old
black coffee pot. He put it down while he bent over
to drink. I picked the coffee pot up to dip up a drink.
I looked in it, it being heavier than it should be, and
discovered the three scalps from Hill, Dampier and Har-
per. I quietly laid it aside, and lay down beside the
Indian that claimed the coffee pot and its contents and
drank.
Business then began. First in order was for one
man to get behind the sod wall of an out building as
picket; next was for the Indians to unstring their bows
and stack guns, bows and arrows up at the old hitching
rack; next was to put the Indians in a half circle with
the chief in the center, with one of us to watch them
while the other two of us were digging the dirt off the
cached goods. After awhile we got everything in order
THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEA. 537
and handed the stuff out to them. They divided it out
to the rest of the warriors. When I came down to the
ten-gallon keg of whiskey (it was in behind a blacksmith's
bellows), I turned the faucet and let the greater part
of it run out in the bottom of the pit, and the Indians
knew nothing about it; but when the savages who were
helping us lift out the grub saw the keg, they told the
Indians who were sitting in the half circle, and they
all made a rush with cups and old cans — anything they
could get to hold the fire-water. But we fooled them
and would not let them drink it there, and gave it to
their chief to take to their camp on the Platte river.
The Indians then left us, four or five of them taking
a parting shot at us before going away. We had what
we called a fort at the ranch—a hole dug in the ground
about four feet deep, protected by a stone wall, full of
port holes. Into this fort we went, after securing a keg
of water and dressed our wounds. We managed to save
some crackers and cheese from the cache, and so we were
not entirely supperless. I was almost sure the red devils
would come back again and it wasn’t long before I heard
them signaling to each other with eagle-bone whistles.
After we had made sure they were coming back
again, we went to planning how to get away. My
proposition was to light a candle for each port hole and
set it up in the hole, so as to make them think we were
in the fort; then slip out into a deep draw and start for
Fort Laramie, as our supply of ammunition was not suf.
ficient to carry us through another battle. So we left
the fort after lighting the candles, myself and Thorn-
538 THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK.
burg helping Bill Worrell along, as his foot was about
played out and swelled so we had to cut his boot off
and wrap the foot with bandages made from wagon sheets.
We made eleven miles straight in that way (or about
fifteen miles the way we had to go to get around the
country where the dead men lay, as the Indians had set
fire to the cedars). We got to Bill Wilson's and Bel-
lamy’s ranch about half past two o'clock that night.
They took us in and provided us some coffee and sup-
per, which we certainly relished.
Jim Bellamy started at once for Fort Laramie, made
the ride before daylight, and reported to General Slimper
(who was in command of the Post at that time). He
sent E Troop of the Second United States Cavalry, com-
manded by Captain Dueese, who came to Cottonwood by
noon the next day. He gave Thornburg, Harris and
myself a horse apiece, and instructed us to proceed with
the troop to the field of battle, bury the dead, and bring
back what signs of Indians could be picked up, to prove
to the Post Commander (General Slimper) that it was
Indians whom we had been fighting. On our arrival on
the battlefield, two or three hours by sun, we found the
dead men.
The first body recovered was that of poor Dampier.
It was lying under the old tree where he had fallen
when shot. The fiends had scalped him after firing six
bullets and many arrows into his body. We buried him
where he fell and went in search of the others. Bill
Harper had fourteen bullet holes in him, and fourteen
arrows were sticking in his body. His scalp had also
THE BATTTE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK. 539
been taken. His ears had been cut off and there were
five long gashes in his nose. We laid him to rest where
we found him. Bill Hill’s body had not been mutilated,
except being scalped. It was about the cleanest bit of
scalp work I ever saw, as there actually was not a single
hair left on the dead man’s head. A grave was made
for him on the spot where his body was discovered.
The soldiers gathered many trophies of the fight,
such as bullet pouches, powder horns, bloody blankets
and arm-loads of arrows. That night we camped on the
Big Cottonwood creek, and the next day the troops re-
turned to Fort Laramie. We four were in such a des-
perate condition that they had to haul us in the ambu-
lance. It was ten days before I got out of the hospital,
as I had one wound in my head and another in my arm,
the latter wound having been made with a poisoned
arrow, and it proved a bad one. The other boys were
in bad shape, too, each one of them being wounded in
several places.
In counting up our loss we found we were out about
sixteen thousand dollars in ranch property, goods, hay,
stock, horses, mules and work cattle, thirty-six head of
the latter having been taken, not to say anything of the
five hundred dollars in cash that had fallen into the
hands of the Indians. I served four years and seven
months in the civil war and was in some hard battles,
and I have been in several fights with the Indians, but
I never had as hard a time as I experienced in the
three days’ engagement with Crazy Horse on Horse Shoe
creek. I cannot begin to tell half the incidents of this
540 THE BATTLE OF HORSE SHOE CREEK.
fight. It took place twenty-five years ago, but I remem-
ber the main features of it very distinctly. It pauperized
us all, and we had nothing to do but “begin life over,”
as the saying goes.
[The author might add that Captain John R. Smith
was one of the first settlers of northern Wyoming, and
that he is at present a prosperous ranchman. He has
passed through many vicissitudes and has a fund of
anecdotes probably as great as any man in the west. His
account of the battle of Horse Shoe creek is correct in
every particular, and the marvel of it is that any of the
men who stood off Crazy Horse and his warriors for the
three days referred to ever lived to reach Fort Laramie,
much less tell the story of the fight. The photograph
published in these pages of Captain Smith is an excellent
likeness of the original.]

CHAPTER IX.
“THE BATTLE OF BY CRIPES.”
When the future historian writes of Fremont county,
Wyoming, his story will not be complete if he omits the
famous “Battle of By Cripes.” The participants in that
conflict are among the first settlers of Lander (formerly
Camp Brown), and have stayed with the country and
become some of the best known and most highly re-
spected citizens. The following account of the “Battle
of By Cripes” was furnished by one of the participants,
and was written out by Mr. Winfield S. Collins, U. S.
Court Commissioner, of Bonanza (Big Horn Basin),
Wyoming :
On the night of the 23d of April, 1875, some
Sioux and Cheyenne Indians from the Red Cloud
Agency, stole ten head of horses from Lander and vicinity.
A. A. Conant, nicknamed “Pap,” Joe Coenett, Frank
E. Coffee, “Doc.” Curry, Herman, Harry Burke, Tom
O'Neal, Pete Anderson, Charlie Baldwin and John Mc-
Collum started from Lander on the morning of the 24th
after them. They followed them all day and all night.
The trail led down the Popo-Agie river, ten miles below
Lander, then struck across Beaver, to about four miles
542 “THE BATTLE OF BY CRIPES.”
above its mouth. At daybreak, they found the Indians on
Muskrat creek, about sixty miles from Lander.
There were fifteen Indians in the party. They had
with the ten stolen head about fifty head of other horses.
Charlie Baldwin and Harry Burke, whose horses had
played out, were behind some four hundred yards. In
the charge that followed, Joe Coenett, Frank E. Coffee,
“Doc” Curry and Herman cut all the horses out but
one, and ran them off about half a mile from the scene
of the battle. Pap Conant, Tom O'Neal, Pete Anderson
and John McCollum stayed behind to keep off the Indians.
One Indian put on his war bonnet, mounted the one horse
left them, rode out and took the bunch away from the four
men. In the meantime the four men who were holding
back the Indians had three of their horses shot, and
were being hotly pursued ; and had not Charlie Baldwin,
who had fallen behind in the charge, came up from a
gulch behind the fighting crowd and held the Indians
at bay, the four men would all have been killed.
As it was, they were compelled to fall back. Mr.
Conant, who had his horse killed at the first fire, was
shot through the body in the beginning of the battle, but
kept on fighting until the battle was over. Three Indians
were killed. It was an evenly-contested battle, both sides
mutually withdrawing from the fight.
The party of whites, with Mr. Conant almost helpless
from a supposed mortal wound through the bowels, and
three horses killed (leaving the Indians in possession of
the stolen horses), started back toward their homes.
When guyed about his bravery, “Doc.” Curry, whose
“THE BATTLE OF BY CRIPES.” 543
pet expression on the occasion of the fight was “By
Cripes,” said about the lone Indian brave in the war
bonnet who, on the Indian pony, took the whole bunch of
horses away from the four guards, “And did you see his
horns ? By cripes 1 and what signifies a poor cayuse to a
man’s life º’” =*
From Curry's expression the skirmish took the name
of “The Battle of By Cripes.”
It was a slow, toilsome journey of two days back to
Lander, part of the men being on foot. Mr. Conant suf-
fered much, his only relief being in a constant change of
horses, the different gaits of the animals furnishing change,
if not relief from pain.
One of the Lander men, who was mounted on a
magnificent, grain-fed stallion, hurried ahead into town,
secured assistance and met the party out fifteen miles
with a light spring wagon, to which Mr. Conant was im-
mediately transferred. Mr. Conant finally recovered from
his wound, and remained in the Lander valley, since
which time he has acquired quite a competence. “Doc.”
Curry has held many positions of honor and trust in
Fremont County, and is one of the most popular men in
northwestern Wyoming. He never mentions the battle
above referred to, nor does he ever lose a chance to get
in his favorite expression of “By cripes.” The other
members of the party are still alive, and reside at or
near Lander.
CHAPTER X.
tºgmºmº
SCOUTS.
Grouard has never had any but the most kindly
feeling for the many scouts he met and served with
while campaigning with Crook and other generals.
Among them all he especially esteemed Ben Clarke, Big
Bat (Baptiste Pourier), Little Bat (Baptiste Gaunier) and
Yankton Charlie (the Sioux). He had always been a
great admirer of Charlie Reynolds (one of the scouts
who perished with the Custer column), although the two
men had never met. As he tells, all through the pages
of this volume, stories of the scouts, it is not the
author's purpose to enlarge upon the facts he has already
stated, but to recall a few incidents that have escaped
the body of the narrative.
Grouard says that Little Bat was the greatest hunter
he ever met, and that he could outrun the fleetest horse
in a long distance contest. He has known him to start
out after a band of elk, shoot them as he ran, and fol-
low them until he had killed the very last one in the
band. He was an excellent shot, and never wasted am-
munition. Cool and brave, he made a dangerous enemy,
but a royal good friend. Little Bat is still a Government
SCOUTS, 545
scout, and is stationed at Fort Robinson. He has a fam-
ily, who reside midway between the Post and Crawford,
Nebraska. º
Of Charlie White (Briffalo Chips) Grouard has al-
ready spoken, and also of California Joe. He was very
proud of Ben Clarke, because he did not pose as the
slayer of all “good Indians,” nor did he wear his hair
streaming over his shoulders for effect. Clarke is still in
the Government employ.
Baptiste Pourier (Big Bat) was with Grouard a great
deal, and the two men were fast friends from their first
meeting; but Bat has already received attention in pre-
ceding pages. He lives on Wounded Knee creek, not far
from the Pine Ridge Agency, where he has a fine farm
and quite a large herd of cattle. He is not at the pres-
ent time in the employ of the Government. He is an
elegant sign-talker, and has had a great deal of experi-
ence with the Indians. He accompanied the Sibley Scout
to the Big Horn range, and was the man that Grouard
sent ahead with the troop when the retreat from the
battlefield begun, a move which required nerve and cau-
tion, and one which, had it been perceived by the enemy,
would have led to the massacre of the entire command
under Lieutenant Sibley.
THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
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