That evening at guard-mount, with all the troops in line, by direction of General Custer, Adjutant Moylan read the dispatch received from General Sheridan: “General Field Orders No. 6,” dated “Headquarters Department of the Missouri, in the Field, Depot on the North Canadian, at the Junction of Beaver Creek, Indian Territory, November 29, 1868.”
It officially announced the defeat “by the Seventh regiment of cavalry, of a large force of Cheyenne Indians, under the celebrated chief Black Kettle, re-enforced by the Arapahos under Little Raven, and the Kiowas under Satanta, on the morning of the 27th instant, on the Washita River, near the Antelope Hills, Indian Territory;” and, like all such official reports of engagements in the army or navy it told the losses and the gains. But the last paragraph, read by Adjutant Moylan in voice emphatic, was what brought from the ranks the cheers:
“The energy and rapidity shown during one of the heaviest snow-storms that has visited this section of the country, with the temperature below freezing point, and the gallantry and bravery displayed, resulting in such signal success, reflect the highest credit upon both the officers and men of the Seventh Cavalry; and the Major-General commanding, while regretting the loss of such gallant officers as Major Elliot and Captain Hamilton, who fell while gallantly leading their men, desires to express his thanks to the officers and men engaged in the battle of the Washita, and his special congratulations are tendered to their distinguished commander, Brevet Major-General George A. Custer, for the efficient and gallant services rendered, which have characterized the opening of the campaign against the hostile Indians south of the Arkansas.
“By command of
“Major-General P. H. Sheridan.”
“Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!” cheered the ranks. It was good to be appreciated by such a soldier as Phil Sheridan.
Word was sent ahead by courier, that the next day the expedition would enter Camp Supply, and soon everybody knew that the entry was to be made in style. There was a busy evening and early morning applied to scouring weapons and buttons and patching clothing.
The day was beautiful. The sun shone bright, the snow had melted, the air felt warm. Just at noon the head of the column topped the ridge below which lay Camp Supply. The glad firing of rifles, by the Osages, who led, announced that the camp was in sight.
Over the crest of the ridge, and down the long sunny slope into the tent-dotted valley marched as for review the victorious eight hundred. General Sheridan and his staff, in full dress, were waiting, posted on their horses where the column would pass.