But Crook had no intention of going back. Instead of that, he remained where he was and laughed at the threats of Crazy Horse: the vainglorious.
At half-past six the cry of "Indians! Indians!" roused the weary troopers from their preparations. Crash! Crash! came two rattling volleys, and from the bluffs across the river arose the wild war whoops of the followers of the great Sioux leader, who had begun to make good his threat.
Springing to their feet, the soldiers immediately formed in line of battle and replied to the shots of the redskin braves. Imagining that the canvas tents of the white men were full of soldiers, the Sioux directed their fire upon them, and the camp was swept with bullets. Fortunately the troops had run out into the open, and, forming in a long skirmish line, vigorously replied to the fire of the warlike followers of Crazy Horse. The mess chests in camp were split with bullets; several horses were struck; the wagons were splintered by the leaden balls; a few tent ropes were cut; and the shelters toppled to the ground. "Cross the river with your battalion and charge the enemy!" shouted General Crook to Captain Mills, and, as the troopers splashed through the water with bugles blaring and pennons fluttering, he turned to a young lieutenant, and said: "Now watch them retreat! Nothing can stand this advance!"
With fierce war whoops the Indians greeted the charge of the troopers, and, aiming at them, endeavored to keep them away. They did not realize that the men under Mills were old-time fighters, and, not at all frightened at their rifle fire, charged upon them vigorously. Meanwhile the long-range rifles of the other troopers began to find them; so, waiting until the whites had reached the very top of the bluffs, they suddenly broke and fled. Few of their numbers had been wounded, and they had not killed a single United States soldier.
Leaving a portion of his men to guard the baggage and wagons, Crook now pushed on after the retreating Crazy Horse. In a few days he had reached a large, rolling bit of prairie, surrounded by high bluffs, near the Rosebud River. He camped here, while some of his Crow and Shoshone Indian scouts went on a buffalo hunt. Crazy Horse had his own scouts out watching the movements of the oncoming column, and when he saw them in such a favorable position for attack, he, himself, began the battle. In this he showed a confidence that few Indians had ever exhibited.
It was half-past eight upon a gloriously bright morning, when rifle shots sounded from the bluffs over which the Indian scouts had disappeared. A cloud of dust soon arose upon the skyline, and galloping into camp came a few of the Crow and Shoshone scouts. They were yelping with fright.
"Sioux! Sioux! Heap Sioux!" they shouted. "They are coming! Get ready!"
The bugle blared the call to arms, and immediately the troopers fell in. They were none too soon, for, suddenly, out on the plain before them came hundreds of painted warriors. Crazy Horse had joined forces with Sitting Bull. Their combined commands were determined to crush Crook's column, as Red Cloud had annihilated Fetterman. Gay with paint and war bonnets, they streamed out upon the plain, yelling their savage war songs, and firing their rifles at long range. The feathers from their head-dresses floated out in the wind; their war ponies were grotesquely painted; their entire bodies were bright with brilliant buckskin or yellow ochre. They circled around like blackbirds upon a field of grain. Thousands seemed to be in sight, and they were apparently little afraid of the resolute-looking forces before them.
It did not take Crook long to give his orders. "Charge, with your troop, in front," he shouted to Mills. "Van Vliet, take your squadron to the rear and keep the Indians from circling round us. To the left Royall and Henry's battalion will charge. The infantry and part of the Second cavalry will hold the centre!"
The fight was now on in earnest. Mills' troopers struggled through a bog; raced across a long stretch of prairie, and rushed up the bluffs upon which the Sioux were riding around in a circular motion. They dashed upon the Indians with revolvers drawn. Firing them in the very faces of the red men, they nearly reached the hostile line, when the Sioux broke and fled to a second ridge. Charging them here was quick work for the cavalrymen. But the savages would not stand and galloped off to a safe distance. As the troopers dismounted to form a skirmish line, the redskins circled about them, kicking up clouds of alkali dust, yelping like mad men, and firing at intervals. They only wounded one or two of their assailants.