There was no trouble from the Sioux: the whole expedition was a perfect success, without bother; and their wagons and saddles laden high with horns and skins and other specimens, at halfpast four o’clock on the afternoon of August 30, the sixtieth day to a dot, the tattered but happy column swung their hats to Fort Abe Lincoln again.
[XX]
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE VOWS VENGEANCE
The winter of 1874–1875 settled down upon Fort Lincoln, just as had settled the long, cold snowy winter of the year preceding. Now again was it buffalo shoes and mittens and fur caps; short drills, and time hanging rather heavy. The Sioux under Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse remained out somewhere in the depths of the vast reservation. They refused to come into the agencies as did the other Indians; and any supplies that they got were carried out to them by their friends. The Sioux called General Custer’s trail into the Black Hills the “Thieves’ Trail.” They had made many protests against it. But white adventurers were much excited, and were openly planning to go there prospecting for gold. Already one party had gone out, in defiance of the Government and of the Indians, and were somewhere in the Hills. Soldiers sent after them failed to find them.
However, this was not the main excitement at Fort Lincoln. When December was drawing to a close orders were suddenly issued for Captain Yates to take three officers and one hundred men, and proceed out upon a scout. Lieutenant Tom Custer was one of the officers; and as trumpeter of Lieutenant Tom’s troop Ned was detailed for the march.
This seemed pretty tough, at holiday time; for the weather was piercing cold, with a keen wind blowing. But it was a change, anyway, from the rather dull garrison routine.
Nobody in the ranks seemed to know where the column were going, or why they were going. Charley Reynolds was guide.
Southward led the route, down along the Missouri, with the officers and troopers muffled to their noses in warmest clothing, regulation or not. Fort Rice, twenty miles, was passed; and twenty more miles lay behind ere, at a brief halt, the officers appeared to be consulting some orders that Captain Yates had opened. He and Lieutenant Tom and the other two officers murmured and nodded. At “For’rd—march!” the column of fours moved on.
Ahead, thirty miles, or seventy miles below Fort Abraham Lincoln, was the Standing Rock Agency for the Unkpapa and Yanktonais Sioux. On the third day of the march the agency buildings rose in sight. Just outside the agency grounds the column made temporary camp, to spend the night.