Indian Fights and Fighters: The Soldier and the Sioux

by Cyrus Townsend Brady

An expedition of some seventeen hundred men under General Stanley was sent into the country in 1873. Custer and the Seventh Cavalry formed a large part of the command. There were no guides. The country, especially in the Bad Lands, was a terrible one to cross, and Custer volunteered to take two troops of cavalry and ride some miles ahead of the main body every day to mark a road. Custer possessed a faculty for this sort of work which was simply marvelous. He was a born pathfinder, better even than Frémont.

On the 4th of August he left camp at five o’clock in the morning with the troops of Moylan and Tom Custer, eighty-six men, five officers, and a favorite Arikara scout, called Bloody Knife. At ten A.M., reaching the crest of some bluffs along the river bank, they saw spread before them a beautiful village, through which the river gently meandered between the tree-clad banks. They advanced two miles up the valley, and made camp under the trees for a noonday rest. They had come at a smart pace and were far ahead of the main column, which was out of sight in the rear. The passage through the valley was easy, and there was no necessity for them to press on. The weather was hot. After picketing the horses, partaking of their noonday meal and posting sentries, officers and men threw themselves on the grass and fell asleep.

At one o’clock the sentry on the edge of the timber gave the alarm. A small party of Indians was approaching, in the hope of stampeding the horses. All Indian attacks begin that way. After the horses are stampeded the soldiers have to fight where they are, and, as the Indians are mounted, the dismounted troopers are at a disadvantage. Custer was on his feet in an instant, shouting:

“Run to your horses, men!”

The troopers were no less alert. Before the Indians could stampede the horses, each man had reached his animal and led him back into the timber. A few shots drove off the little party of savages, the horses were saddled, and the men moved out. As they did so, six mounted Indians appeared on the crest of a little hill. Custer led the way toward them. They retreated slowly, keeping just out of range. In this manner they drew the soldiers some two miles up the valley.

Finally, in the hope of getting near to them, Custer took twenty men, with his brother and Lieutenant Varnum in command, and rode out some two hundred yards ahead of the remainder under Captain Moylan, who were directed to keep that distance in rear of the advance. Custer, accompanied only by an orderly, rode about the same distance ahead of the advance, making peace signs to the six Indians whom they had pursued. As he approached nearer to them, their pace slackened and they suddenly stopped.

To the left of the soldiers was a thick wood. It occurred to Custer that Indians might be concealed therein, and he sent his orderly back to the advance to caution them to be on their guard. Scarcely had the orderly reached the advance when the Indians they had been pursuing turned and came at full gallop toward Custer, now alone in the valley. At the same instant, with a terrific war whoop, three or four hundred splendidly mounted Sioux burst out from the trees on the left.

Custer was riding a magnificent thoroughbred. In a second he was racing for his life toward the advance-guard. The Indians had two objects in view. They wanted to intercept Custer and also cut off the advance party from Moylan’s men, who were coming up at a gallop. Only the speed of Custer’s horse saved his life. As he galloped toward them, he shouted to Tom Custer to dismount his men. He was not heard in the confusion, but young Custer knew exactly what to do. While five men held the horses, the other fifteen threw themselves on the ground. On came the Indians after Custer. As soon as they were within easy range, the dismounted men blazed away right in their faces. The troopers were armed with breech-loaders, and the first volley was succeeded by a second. Several of the savages were hit and many of their horses. They reeled, swerved, and Custer rejoined his men. A few moments after, Moylan came up with the main body.

Custer now dismounted most of his men, and keeping a bold front to the Indians, retreated in the timber, fighting hard all the way. Reaching the river, they made good their defense. The Indians tried all their devices to get them out. They set fire to the grass, but it was green and did not burn readily. All their efforts to dislodge the troopers failed, and late in the afternoon a heavy squadron came up on the gallop from the main body under Stanley and put them to flight. It was a sharp affair, and the Indians suffered severely.

The only losses to the expedition on that day were two civilians: Doctor Honzinger, a fat old German, who was the veterinarian of the regiment, and Mr. Baliran, the sutler. They were both quiet, inoffensive, peaceable men, very much liked, especially the doctor. They were amateur naturalists, and frequently wandered away from the main body on botanizing excursions. They had done so that morning, following Custer’s advance, and the Indians had fallen upon them and murdered them. It was the discovery of the remains of these two men which had caused General Stanley to despatch the cavalry to the relief of the advance.