The Indian orator was still shrieking and urging; the other Indians were jostling and clamoring, and from all directions the crowd was being increased. It looked bad for the little company of cavalry.
Rain-in-the-Face made no resistance. He was hoisted upon a horse, and ringed by a guard of soldiers, who gave not an inch before the scowls and threats around-about.
Gradually, as through the post interpreter Captain Yates now talked to the Indians, the tumult died. They knew that in a stand-up fight on the spot many of them would be killed; and they knew that Rain-in-the-Face had been arrested for good cause. So presently away they began to rush, to their village, to pow-wow and maybe get reinforcements.
“Fours right—march! Column right—march!” ordered Captain Yates; and with Rain-in-the-Face in the middle, out from the agency moved the compact cavalry column.
When halt was made at the temporary camp just outside, speedily was it known to all why Rain-in-the-Face had been arrested. A couple of weeks before, the Sioux gathered at the agency had a great dance, during which the warriors had recited their biggest deeds. They spoke in Sioux, but Charley Reynolds the scout was sitting near, watching. He understood Sioux. When Rain-in-the-Face had entered the circle, and boasted of his career, suddenly Charley pricked his ears, but gave no sign that he heard; for Rain-in-the-Face was vaunting how, a year and a half before, he had killed two white men.
One was a fat man with no hair; him he had shot from his horse and had finished with the war-club. The other was a younger man, the fat man’s companion, who had taken refuge in a clump of trees. He had signed for peace, and had offered his hat; but he also had been shot, with bullet and arrow. No scalps were taken, because the fat man had been bald and the other man had very short hair.
Then Charley Reynolds knew that he had found one of the murderers of Veterinary Surgeon Honzinger and Sutler Baliran, killed when inoffensive and unarmed, on the Yellowstone expedition of the summer of 1873. Out slipped Charley, as soon as he could, and hastened with the news to General Custer at Fort Lincoln.
General Custer had kept the news quiet, lest the Sioux should be alarmed and send word to Rain-in-the-Face. He was accounted a mighty warrior, for he had made a record by hanging four hours, in a Sun Dance ceremony, by ropes fastened to splints thrust through his chest and back. He had five well-known brothers—Bear’s Face, Red Thunder, Iron Horn, Little Bear, and Shave Head: warriors all. So whatever was to be done must be done cunningly. And so it had been done.
Waiting there in the agency store, until the Indians should give glimpses of their features, when Rain-in-the-Face finally had dropped his blanket a little Lieutenant Tom, with a leap from behind, had clasped him about both arms.
At Fort Lincoln Rain-in-the-Face confessed to the murders. He evidently expected to be hanged at once, for he dressed himself in black. His brother Iron Horn, and other leading Sioux, tried to comfort him, and in council with the general they pleaded for him. But all actions and talk were conducted in a solemn dignified manner, as befitting the great Sioux nation.