Indian Fights and Fighters: The Soldier and the Sioux

by Cyrus Townsend Brady

By Colonel D. L. Brainard, U. S. A.[^[110]]

The command, consisting of four troops of the Second Cavalry, “F,” “G,” “H,” and “L,” two companies of the Fifth Infantry, two of the Twenty-second Infantry, and a company of mounted scouts, all under command of Colonel Nelson A. Miles, left the cantonment on Tongue River May 1, 1877, and marched up Tongue River, with a view of intercepting a band of hostile Indians, under Lame Deer, known to be at or near the head-waters of the Rosebud River. The transportation consisted of bull teams, mule teams, and a few pack animals. The command marched up Tongue River four days, when the train was left in charge of a small guard, the main command pushing on with pack trains, the cavalry leading and the infantry following more slowly, striking across country toward the Rosebud River, marching day and night, stopping only long enough to make coffee for the men, and to rest and graze the animals.

We bivouacked on the evening of the 6th in a deep valley near Little Muddy Creek, and about two o’clock the following morning were again in the saddle, moving silently and swiftly down the valley toward the Indian camp, which had been located the previous evening by White Bull, Brave Wolf, Bob Jackson, and the other scouts. The scouts had reported that the camp was only about six miles distant, but it was soon discovered that it was much farther than this, and at early dawn we were still some distance away. The command had been moving at a trot, but the gallop was immediately taken up, and just as the sun appeared above the horizon, we rounded a bend in the valley and came in sight of the Indian camp, which was located on the right side, close to the hills.

At first we saw no Indians except a few boys guarding the ponies, which were grazing a little distance beyond the camp, but they came out immediately, and dropping in the grass, began to fire in our direction, though without effect. As we charged down on the camp, these Indians, together with squaws and children, ran for the hills, driving with them the few horses that were near the tepees. “H” Company, under command of Lieutenant Lovell H. Jerome, charged through the camp and beyond, capturing the pony herd. The other companies, all under command of Captain Ball, charged to the village, formed line to the right, deployed as skirmishers, and pursued the Indians up the hill.

The hills were so steep at this point that it was necessary to dismount the command and advance on foot, the horses being sent around by an easier route to join us later near the summit of the hill. The line as formed was “F” troop (Tyler) on the right, “L” troop (Norwood) center, and “G” troop (Wheelan) on the left. The Indians were driven up over the hills, where they scattered like quail. Our horses were brought up, and mounting, we charged across the country for two or three miles, and later returned to the village.

As my recollections serve me, four soldiers and fourteen Indians were killed, ten soldiers being wounded, myself being one of the number. About four hundred ponies were captured, which were afterward used for mounting a battalion of Infantry, which later performed much effective work in the field. There were over sixty tepees, in which we found tons of dried buffalo meat, a few arms, some ammunition, and a great many buffalo robes, saddles, and an assortment of camp property, all of which were burned that afternoon, thus so effectually crippling the band that the remnant came in and surrendered a few weeks later.

We camped on the battle-ground that night, the following day moving back in the direction of our wagon train.

One of the most interesting incidents of the fight occurred just as the troop to which I belonged (“L”) charged on the village. I saw General Miles riding toward the first tepee, near which were two Indians, followed by his orderly. He called out something to these Indians which I did not understand, but I later understood he had called on them to surrender. One of these was evidently the Chief, Lame Deer, for he wore a long head-dress of eagle feathers, the head-dress reaching to the ground. As Miles approached on horseback, the Chief walked rapidly toward him, with his hand extended, as though to shake hands, but when within ten or twelve feet of him, the Indian in the rear, who was said to be Iron Star, a son of Lame Deer, and also a medicine man of the tribe, called sharply to Lame Deer, presumably warning him of the approaching troops, and urging him to follow the other Indians to the hills.

Lame Deer stopped, turned, hesitated, then ran back a few steps, and picking up a loaded carbine from the ground, fired point blank at General Miles, who, seeing the movement, wheeled his horse sharply and bent forward. The bullet passed over him, striking his orderly in the breast, killing him instantly. The Chief then ran up the steep hill, accompanied by the other Indian. The head-dress made a very conspicuous mark, and many shots were immediately fired in that direction. From his tottering steps we saw that the Chief was badly wounded, and at this point his companion, instead of escaping as he could have done, placed his arm around the Chief’s waist, and supported him up the hill. About this time the Chief drew a revolver, and without turning about, held it in rear of him and fired in our direction, the bullets striking the ground only a few feet in his rear. This act, we assumed, was one of defiance of a man who knew he could not escape, but who was game to the last. Iron Star supported the Chief until the latter fell, when he escaped over the hill, only to be killed by “G” troop, which had been pushing up on that side. After the devotion and bravery he had displayed in supporting Lame Deer up the hill, we were almost sorry he had not escaped alive.

A few days later Bob Jackson told me that, on examining Lame Deer’s body after the fight, he had found that he had been hit seventeen times.