The orders for Merritt to join Crook were imperative; but, in view of this news, the general decided to disregard them for the present. He realized that he could perform no better service than heading off this body of Cheyennes, and either defeating and scattering them or, better still, forcing them back to the agency.
The trail they would have to take would cross a creek in the extreme southeast corner of South Dakota, called the War Bonnet,[[96]] some eighty-five miles, by the only practicable route, from where the Fifth Cavalry then was. The Indians were a much shorter distance from it. Merritt would have had to march around, practically, three sides of a square, owing to the configuration of the country, to reach that point, which was the best place for miles around, within the knowledge of W. F. Cody (Buffalo Bill), his chief scout, to intercept the flying Cheyennes.
Merritt did not hesitate an instant after learning the news. He put his command in motion immediately, and by a forced march of thirty-one hours, got to the crossing in good time. There was no evidence that the Cheyennes had passed. The troopers concealed themselves in ravines under the bluff’s, and waited for the Indians.
Early on the morning of July 17th, the pickets, commanded by Lieutenant Charles King,[[97]] observed the approach of the Indians. At about the same time Merritt’s wagon train, under Lieutenant Hall, with two hundred infantrymen spoiling for a fight, concealed in the wagons as a guard, was observed toiling along, some four miles to the southwest, in an endeavor to reach the rendezvous on the War Bonnet. The regiment remained carefully concealed, and the Indians, in high glee, thought they had the train at their mercy.
So soon as he sighted the Cheyennes, Lieutenant Hall despatched two troopers of his small cavalry escort ahead to the crossing to apprise Merritt that the Indians were at hand. An advance party of Cheyennes, superbly mounted and led by a gorgeous young chief, determined to intercept these troopers, who were ignorant of their peril. The two soldiers came down one trail which led through a ravine, the Indians came up another which led through another ravine. The troopers and the Cheyennes were hidden from each other, but both were in plain view of the picket on the hill. The two trails joined at the foot of the hill. The plain back of the wagon-train was black—or red, rather—with Indians coming up rapidly, although they were not yet near enough to attack.
Merritt and one or two other officers, with Buffalo Bill and a few of his scouts and several troopers, joined King on the hill. The main body of the Indians was too far away to attack, so the little advance party determined to wait until the Cheyennes, who were endeavoring to cut off the two soldiers, were close at hand and then fall upon them. Everybody withdrew from the crest of the hill except Lieutenant King, who was to give the signal, when the party below should sally around it and fall on the Cheyennes.
King, who has described the situation with masterly skill in his “Campaigning with Crook,” flattened himself out on the brow of the hill, with nothing showing but the top of his hatless head and his field glass, and watched the soldiers rapidly galloping up one trail and the Indians more rapidly rushing down the other. He waited until the Indians had almost reached the junction. Then he gave the signal. Merritt’s escort and Cody’s scouts raced around the base of the hill, and dashed slap into the faces of the astonished Cheyennes. Two Indian saddles were emptied in the twinkling of an eye. Such was the impetus of their charge that the Indians scarcely had time to rein in their steeds before the white men were upon them.
Buffalo Bill shot the leader of the war party, a famous young chief named Yellow Hand, through the leg. The bullet also pierced the heart of the pony Yellow Hand was riding. Both crashed to the earth. In spite of his pain, Yellow Hand dragged himself to his feet and fired at the scout, killing his horse. The two, not twenty paces apart, exchanged shots the next instant. The Indian missed, but Buffalo Bill sent a bullet through Yellow Hand’s breast. The Indian reeled, but before he fell Cody leaped upon him and drove his knife into his gallant enemy’s heart. Yellow Hand was a dead Indian when he struck the ground. “Jerking the war bonnet off,” he says, “I scientifically scalped him in about five seconds.”[[98]]
Yellow Hand had recognized Buffalo Bill, and had virtually challenged him to this duel. “The first scalp for Custer!” shouted Cody, waving his trophy in the air.
Some of the other Indians had now come within range. They opened fire upon the little party; the bullets zipped around them in every direction, one narrowly grazing General Merritt. They nicked a horse here and there, but, as usual, their marksmanship was execrable.