As the little party charged the Indians, Merritt had directed King to order the rest of the regiment to advance. In the midst of the firing, the splendid troops of the dandy Fifth came bursting through the ravines and over the hills, making for the Cheyennes on the gallop. At the same time Lieutenant Hall’s infantrymen scrambled out of their wagons and sent a few volleys at the Cheyennes at long range. A more astonished body of Indians the United States has probably never contained. They hadn’t the slightest idea that there was a soldier within five hundred miles, except those in the wagon train which they had expected to capture. They had anticipated no trouble whatever in joining Sitting Bull, and now they found themselves suddenly face to face with one of the finest cavalry regiments in the service. What were they to do? They hadn’t much time to decide, for the cavalry were after them at full gallop. They turned and fled incontinently. They stood not on the order of their going, but went at once.
If they could get back to the reservation, they would be free from attack. They fled at the highest possible speed of their horses, throwing aside everything they possessed, save their guns and ammunition, in their frantic desire to get away. For thirty miles Merritt and his men pursued them with the best will in the world to come up with them; but the horses of the soldiers were more or less tired from their long march of the day before, and the Indians, lightly equipped and on fresh horses, finally succeeded in escaping. By nightfall the whole party was back on the reservation. Thereafter care was taken that they found no further opportunity to go on the war-path.
The coöperation of this splendid body of Indians with that under the command of Crazy Horse might possibly have turned the scale in some of the hotly contested battles, and Merritt’s promptness was greatly commended by the authorities. Buffalo Bill received the chief glory of the little adventure from his dramatic duel with Yellow Hand, in full view of soldiers and Indians.
II. The Sibley Scout
The other event is known in army records as The Sibley Scout. While General Crook was waiting for reinforcements and additional supplies at his camp on Goose Creek, near the Tongue River, he decided to send out a scouting party to see what had become of his friend, Crazy Horse, who had handled him so severely at the Rosebud a few weeks before.
Lieutenant Frederick W. Sibley, of E Troop, of the Third Cavalry, an enterprising but cool-headed young officer, was given command of twenty-five picked men from the regiment. With him went scouts Frank Gruard and Baptiste Pourier, commonly known as “Big Bat,” to distinguish him from another scout, Baptiste, a smaller man. To the party also were attached John Becker, mule packer, and the indefatigable Finerty, the war correspondent of the Chicago Times, making a total of thirty men.
Each man carried one hundred rounds of ammunition on his person, and a few days’ rations in his saddle-bags. They started on the 6th of July. On the 7th they had reached the Rosebud, some fifty miles away from Crook’s camp. There they came across the Indians. Gruard and Pourier observed them from the top of a hill, behind which the rest of the expedition halted. There were hundreds of them, apparently, and the scouts rejoined the command immediately. To take the back track was impossible. Therefore, they struck westward over the mountains, leading their horses. The Indians, marching slowly southward, soon came upon the trail of the party, and followed it at some distance. Urged by the imminence of their peril, the men, led by the unerring Gruard, who was familiar with all the ramifications of the Big Horn Range, since he had often hunted there during his captivity with the Sioux, did some rapid mountain climbing, and finally thought they had escaped pursuit, especially as no one could ride up the trail up which they had climbed, and these Indians were poor trailers when on foot. Having progressed some five miles over terrific trails, they halted in a little glade under the shade of some trees, unsaddled their horses, made coffee, and ate dinner. Feeling themselves safe from pursuit, they rested for several hours, and it was not until late in the afternoon that they took up their march again.
The going here was easier than before, and they could mount their horses once more. Presently they trotted into a level, thickly wooded valley. The trail led along the right side of the mountain, which was broken and rugged. There were woods to the left and in front of them, and high rocks and open timber on the right. John Becker, who brought up the rear, suddenly alarmed everybody by the shout of “Indians, Indians!”
The next instant the timber and boulders to the right were alive with a war party of Sioux and Cheyennes, not two hundred yards away—not the same party they had seen in the valley, by the way. So soon as the Indians appeared they opened fire. Again their shooting was bad. Not a trooper was hurt, although a number of horses were hit, some seriously. Sibley acted with prompt decision. A word with Gruard determined him in his course. Under a spattering fire from the Indians, the party turned to the left and raced for the thick timber as fast as they could go. They threw themselves to the ground in a semi-circular line so soon as they reached the woods, tied their horses to the trees back of them, and taking advantage of fallen logs and boulders as a breastwork, opened fire upon the Indians, who, on their part, sought concealment and commenced firing in earnest. The soldiers were well protected in the forest, however, and although the Indians killed many of the horses, they did not hit any of the troopers.
The party was now overwhelmingly outnumbered. There were already several hundred Indians engaged. Their leader was a magnificent young Cheyenne chief, dressed in a suit of white buckskin. It was afterward learned that his name was White Antelope. Gruard was recognized by the Indians, who were desirous of taking him alive. After firing for perhaps half an hour, White Antelope led the Indians on foot in a direct charge on the woods.