His wife lived with him through those scenes of interest. She had the gift of transmitting to paper the vivid pictures of this wild and daring life. She passed four months in an army wagon, and rode the long marches which her brave husband was forced to make. He was a hero, she also was a heroine, for the hardships and privations which she endured so uncomplainingly, were worthy of so grand a spirit.
The Sioux (Soo) is the most powerful tribe of red men on our continent. They preyed upon all alike—with the defenceless settlements of our Minnesota frontier, with the Pawnees, the Cheyennes, the Arapahoes, and the Shoshones and, indeed, with all the other tribes, far and near.
They spared no one. At the end of the war of 1861 our army was called on to protect the peaceable settlers of the far West, for the Sioux were more hostile and bloodthirsty than ever. For ten years the cavalry regiments knew no rest. The Indians were on the war-path continually. They were always rash fighters, but when in 1874 they obtained breech-loaders and rifles, they became a foe more to be dreaded than ever. They burned our forts and massacred the small garrisons in a most atrocious manner.
Our government used every method to subdue them, feeding, clothing and coaxing them. Agencies and reservations were placed at good points, but this care for their comfort had no effect. The old worn-out Indians, women and children lived on these reservations, partaking of the government's bounty, while the young and vigorous warriors sallied out to murder and pilfer the whites wherever they could find them. The soldiers of the United States were not permitted to attack them on their reservations, and so they kept out of their way, and escaped punishment.
An Indian in his wild state has no respect for another of his race who has no scalps to show. There were, however, some who made treaties with the whites, and kept them. But among the many who never made any promise to behave was a powerful medicine chief known as “Sitting Bull.”
In March, 1876, General George Crook was sent against this renowned warrior, who had entrenched himself in the hills with 6,000 “bad Indians” around him. From the south General Terry was sent with a strong body of cavalry and infantry, and General Gibbon with a small but brave band of frontier soldiers. They approached the stronghold of the chief. Major Reno left camp to reconnoiter, and was readily convinced how rash it would be to attack Sitting Bull, who was daily receiving accessions to his numbers.
General Terry thought, however, it was time to start an expedition to discover and dislodge the enemy, and he gave the command to the brave and fearless soldier, General Custer. He named the 26th of June as the day when he and Gibbon would be there to assist Custer, but the latter, impatient to open the conflict, had urged his horses and men to their utmost so as to reach the scene. He started on the trail with the Seventh Cavalry, riding sixty miles in twenty-four hours. His aim was to have a bout with the Indians and defeat them single-handed. Coming within sight of the village on the left bank of the Little Big Horn River where Sitting Bull was encamped, he observed such tokens of excitement and hurrying away of ponies as to him had but one explanation—that the chief and his warriors were running away. Dashing forward with panting chest and the fire of courage flaming in his face, he placed himself at the head of his men, plunged hastily into the valley, and the last that General Reno, who followed him closely, ever saw of the brave Custer and his three hundred, was the cloud of dust their trail had left behind.
The valiant Custer had gone to his death! Expecting Reno would make a dash such as his own, he had gallantly ridden forward, to be met by a perfect storm of flame and lead. In an instant he saw how vain was his attempt, and giving orders to mount he sought a way out, but the red men swarmed around his followers. Boys and even old squaws were firing at him and his band most viciously.
