Indian Fights and Fighters: The Soldier and the Sioux

by Cyrus Townsend Brady

From where I was concealed I could see our men force their horses into the river and urge them across the boulder-strewn stream. I saw Lieut. Hodgson’s horse leap into the stream and saw him struggling as though wounded, I saw the lieutenant disengage himself from the stirrups and grab the stirrup strap of a passing trooper and with that aid make his way across the stream. No sooner had he reached the bank than it became apparent he had been wounded, but he pluckily held on, and the trooper seemed to be trying to help him up behind him on the saddle, but without daring to stop his horse. An instant later Hodgson seemed to be hit again, for he lost his hold, fell to the ground, staggered to his feet and sought to reach another comrade who reined in to aid him, and just as it seemed that he was saved I saw the second trooper throw up his arms, reel in the saddle and fall heavily to the ground. Hodgson started to make his way toward the ravine up which the command was disappearing, he staggered forward a few steps, stumbled, struggled to his feet again, only to fall once more. He apparently decided that further effort to retreat was useless, as I saw him turn and face the Indians, draw his revolver and open fire. An instant later three or four shots rang out from my side of the river, and I saw Hodgson reel and fall and I knew it was all over.

In the meantime our men had succeeded in crossing the river and made their way up a neighboring ravine, all save those who had met their fate at the ford, which was one of the worst along the river for many rods. Left alone, I began to wonder what my own fate was likely to be, but I was not observed and therefore not molested, the Indians being busy stripping and mutilating the bodies of our dead along the banks of the stream.

About this time I could hear sounds of heavy firing down the river, and made up my mind that Custer was engaging the Indians, and from the momentary glimpses I had of the village I felt that he was as badly outnumbered as we were. Most of the Indians in our front melted away and I could see them lashing their ponies as they hurried to join their friends at the lower end of the village.

About this time I saw the scout, Herndon, some little distance from me, making his way toward the river, and called to him, and we were soon together. He told me that the fifteen dismounted men of our outfit had made their way to a point in the timber about a couple of hundred yards from where we were, but that in order to get nearer the river they had to cross an open space and every time they tried it the Indians fired on them. Before leaving us the Indians had set the river bottom on fire, evidently with a design of concealing their movements, or of smoking or roasting out our wounded. This smoke proved to be our salvation, as under its cover we made our way to the river, forded it with some difficulty, and stumbled on to one of our Crow scouts, who pointed out to us the location of the command, which we soon joined.

We found that Benteen and his battalion had reached it and that nothing was known of the location of Custer and his command. We reported what we had heard and seen, and just about this time some one discovered a white flag waving from a point in the river bottom near where Herndon and myself had been concealed. Lieut. Hare, at the risk of his life, crept down to a point of bluffs overlooking the valley, and after considerable signaling satisfied the party we were friends and they made their way across the river and soon joined us, proving to be the dismounted men who had been left to their fate when Reno made his retreat.

I omitted to state that when we started on our retreat Lieut. McIntosh, mounted on McCormick’s horse, was several rods in front of me and I noticed that in some way his lariat had become loosened and was dragging on the ground, the picket pin striking sage brush and other obstacles, and rendering his immediate vicinity very dangerous. Several of the men sought to call his attention to it, but evidently he did not hear them. A moment after this I saw his horse go down, but whether he was shot or not I do not know. All I could see as I passed was that the lieutenant was lying where he fell, and was either dead or stunned, probably dead, as we found him in the same place the day after the Indians left us.

As we were standing on the bluffs looking down into the valley I heard some loud talk near me, and turning in that direction, I heard Capt. Weir say:

“Well, by G—d, if you won’t go, I will, and if we ever live to get out of here some one will suffer for this.”

He strode away, and a few moments later I saw “D” Troop mount up and move down the valley in the direction of the distant firing. Apparently without orders, the entire command followed them in no sort of military order with the exception of the two troops under Benteen and Godfrey. In this way we pushed down the valley some distance, when we discovered Weir and his troop falling back before a largely superior body of Indians.

Hastily forming a line, we held back the advancing horde until Weir and his command had passed our lines and formed some distance in our rear, where, with the support of some of our men who were near them, they formed a line and opened fire, permitting us to fall back and re-form again in their rear. In this way we fell back some little distance, when Col. Benteen, who seemed to be the leader in our section of the field, spoke to Lieut. Wallace, saying: