My life on the plains

by George A. Custer

To operate effectually against these bands General Sheridan was without the necessary troops. Congress, however, had authorized the employment of detachments of frontier scouts to be recruited from among the daring spirits always to be met with on the border. It was upon a force raised from this class of our western population that General Sheridan relied for material assistance.

Having decided to employ frontiersmen to assist in punishing the Indians, the next question was the selection of a suitable leader. The choice, most fortunately, fell upon General George A. Forsyth (“Sandy”), then Acting Inspector-General of the Department of Missouri, who, eager to render his country an important service and not loath to share in the danger and excitement attendant upon such an enterprise, set himself energetically to work to raise and equip his command for the field. But little time was required, under Forsyth’s stirring zeal, to raise the required number of men. It was wisely decided to limit the number of frontiersmen to fifty. This enabled Forsyth to choose only good men, and the size of the detachment, considering that they were to move without ordinary transportation—in fact were to almost adopt the Indian style of warfare—was as large as could be without being cumbersome. Last but not least, it was to be composed of men who, from their leader down, were intent on accomplishing an important purpose; they were not out on any holiday tour or pleasure excursion. Their object was to find Indians; a difficult matter for a large force to accomplish, because the Indians are the first to discover their presence and take themselves out of the way; whereas with a small or moderate-sized detachment there is some chance, as Forsyth afterwards learned, of finding Indians.

Among all the officers of the army, old or young, no one could have been found better adapted to become the leader of an independent expedition, such as this was proposed to be, than General Forsyth. This is more particularly true considering the experiences which awaited this detachment. I had learned to know him well when we rode together in the Shenandoah valley, sometimes in one direction and sometimes, but rarely, in the other; and afterwards, in the closing struggle around Petersburg and Richmond, when his chief had been told to “press things,” General Forsyth, “Sandy” as his comrades familiarly termed him, was an important member of the “press.” In fact, one of the best terms to describe him by is irrepressible; for, no matter how defeat or disaster might stare us in the face, and, as I have intimated, cause us to ride “the other” way, “Sandy” always contrived to be of good cheer and to be able to see the coming of a better day. This quality came in good play in the terrible encounter which I am about to describe.

The frontiersmen of the Kansas border, stirred up by numerous massacres committed in their midst by the savages, were only too eager and willing to join in an enterprise which promised to afford them an opportunity to visit just punishment upon their enemies.

Thirty selected men were procured at Fort Harker, Kansas, and twenty more at Fort Hays, sixty miles further west. In four days the command was armed, mounted, and equipped, and at once took the field. Lieutenant F. H. Beecher, of the Third Regular Infantry, a nephew of the distinguished divine of the same name, and one of the ablest and best young officers on the frontier, was second in command; and a surgeon was found in the person of Dr. John S. Movers, of Hays City, Kansas, a most competent man in his profession, and one who had had a large experience during the war of the rebellion as surgeon of one of the volunteer regiments from the State of New York. Sharpe Grover, one of the best guides and scouts the Plains afforded, was the guide of the expedition, while many of the men had at different times served in the regular and volunteer forces; for example, the man selected to perform the duties of First Sergeant of the detachment was Brevet Brigadier-General W. H. H. McCall, United States Volunteers, who commanded a brigade at the time the Confederate forces attempted to break the Federal lines at Fort Hell, in front of Petersburg, in the early spring of 1865, and was breveted for gallantry on that occasion. As a general thing the men composing the party were just the class eminently qualified to encounter the dangers which were soon to confront them. They were brave, active, hardy, and energetic, and, while they required a tight rein held over them, were when properly handled capable of accomplishing about all that any equal number of men could do under the same circumstances.

The party left Fort Hayes on the 29th day of August, 1868, and, under special instructions from Major-General Sheridan, commanding the department, took a north-westerly course, scouting the country to the north of the Saline river, crossed the south fork of the Solomon, Bow creek, north fork of the Solomon, Prairie Dog creek, and then well out toward the Republican river, and, swinging around in the direction of Fort Wallace, made that post on the eighth day from their departure. Nothing was met worthy of notice, but there were frequent indications of large camps of Indians which had evidently been abandoned only a few days or weeks before the arrival of the command.

Upon arriving at Fort Wallace, General Forsyth communicated with General Sheridan and proceeded to refit his command.

On the morning of September 10, a small war party of Indians attacked a train near Sheridan, a small railroad town some eighty miles beyond Fort Wallace, killed two teamsters and ran off a few cattle. As soon as information of this reached Fort Wallace, Forsyth started with his command for the town of Sheridan, where he took the trail of the Indians and followed it until dark. The next morning it was resumed, until the Indians finding themselves closely pursued, scattered in many directions and the trail became so obscure as to be lost. Determined, however, to find the Indians this time, if they were in the country, he pushed on to Short Nose creek, hoping to find them in that vicinity. Carefully scouting in every direction for the trail and still heading north as far as the Republican river, the command finally struck the trail of a small war party on the south bank of that stream, and followed it up to the forks of that river. This is familiar ground perhaps to some of my readers, as it was here Pawnee Killer and his band attacked our camp early one morning in the summer of ’67, and hurried me from my tent without allowing me time to attend to my toilet. Continuing on the trail and crossing to the north bank, Forsyth found the trail growing constantly larger, as various smaller ones entered it from the south and north, and finally it developed into a broad and well-beaten road, along which large droves of cattle and horses had been driven. This trail led up the Arickaree fork of the Republican river, and constant indications of Indians, in the way of moccasins, jerked buffalo meat, and other articles, were found every few miles, but no Indians were seen. On the evening of the eighth day from Fort Wallace, the command halted about five o’clock in the afternoon and went into camp at or near a little island in the river, a mere sand-spit of earth formed by the stream dividing at a little rift of earth that was rather more gravelly than the sand in its immediate vicinity, and coming together again about a hundred yards further down the stream, which just here was about eight feet wide and two or three inches deep.

The watercourses in this part of the country in the dry season are mere threads of water meandering along the broad sandy bed of the river, which during the months of May and June is generally full to its banks, and at that time capable of floating an ordinary ship, while later in the season there is not enough water to float the smallest row-boat. In fact, in many places the stream sinks into the sand and disappears for a considerable distance, finally making its way up to the surface and flowing on until it again disappears and reappears many times in the course of a long day’s journey.

Encamping upon the bank of the stream at this point—which at that time was supposed by the party to be Delaware creek, but which was afterwards discovered to be Arickaree fork of the Republican river—the command made the usual preparations for passing the night. This point was but a few marches from the scene of Kidder’s massacre. Having already been out from Fort Wallace eight days, and not taking wagons with them, their supplies began to run low, although they had been husbanded with great care. During the last three days game had been very scarce, which fact convinced Forsyth and his party that the Indians whose trail they were following had scoured the country and driven off every kind of game by their hunting parties. The following day would see the command out of supplies of all kinds; but feeling assured that he was within striking distance of the Indians, Forsyth determined to push on until he found them, and fight them even if he could not whip them, in order that they might realize that their rendezvous was discovered, and that the Government was at last in earnest when it said that they were to be punished for their depredations on the settlements.