Carl the Trailer

by Harry Castlemon

At last, when the blizzard was at its height and the soldiers could scarcely see which way to go, the bugle called them in; and when they got into the ravine all the tents were up, and the property they had left on the field when they began their charge was there under cover. It was delightful to feel the fire once more. Their overcoats were frozen stiff, and it was a long time before they got thawed out again. The storm lasted three days, and a severe one it was, too. A soldier would scarcely stick his head out of his tent before he was glad to get back by the fire again. Some of the wounded soldiers died during this time, and with everyone who breathed his last among his comrades fierce maledictions went up on all Indians who were left on the plains.

“I have always said ‘Remember Custer’ when I went into an engagement of this kind,” said an old soldier, wiping the tears from his eyes and turning to Lieutenant Parker, who had come into the hospital tent just in time to see a wounded man breathe his last, “but from now on I shall yell ‘Remember Simpson.’ He met his death like a brave man.”

“Was he shot?” asked Parker, who knew he ought to say something to show that he sympathized with the soldier.

“No, sir. He shot that brave down, and thought he had him sure enough; but he had a knife, with which he struck Simpson in the side. My rifle was loaded, and I will bet you he did not hurt anybody after that. Oh yes, I shall always remember Simpson.”

On the morning of the fourth day after the blizzard the sun rose bright and clear, and the work of burying the dead Indians began. All hands were turned out for that purpose. Some dug a ditch large enough to hold them all, and the rest were sent out to gather up the men, women and children, some lying at least two miles away, and bring them to the grave. The unfeeling soldiers dumped them into the trench like so many sticks of wood, while Lieutenant Parker and Carl stood by with their hands clenched and their teeth shut firmly against each other. If Parker had been in command of that squad they would have handled the Indians with much more respect.

The lieutenant noticed that more than half the Indians were stripped when they arrived at the trench; but the officers, although they saw it, did not make any remark. What the soldiers wanted as much as anything else was to secure the ghost shirts on which so much depended, and these they had taken off when they first found the Indians and stowed away under their overcoats. He gave up all hope of getting one of these ghost shirts; but that night, when the officers were all in their tents preparing to smoke, after supper, Carl came to the door and called him out. He went, and was presented with one of the ghost shirts that the medicine man had blessed, and which was to render the soldiers weak and powerless.

“I knew you would not have a chance to get one with those officers all around you, and so I went off and got this myself,” said Carl. “See there. That is the place where the bullet went in, and you can see how much resistance the shirt offered to it. He might as well have gone into the fight with nothing on at all.”

The next day this work was done and the Indians were buried; but the work of the cavalry was not yet over. They were ordered away in haste to help a company of buffalo soldiers (negroes) who were coming into the agency with a train load of supplies. But this fight did not last long. The cavalry charged the Indians as soon as they caught sight of them, and ran them off to the hills. They did not lose a man, but the Sioux lost four warriors and several ponies. And so it was during the three weeks they stayed there, and it was not until January that they received orders to go to the fort.

“I have learned something since I have been here,” said the lieutenant, when the soldiers were fairly under way to go to their post. “I did not know why they called this battle ‘Wounded Knee,’ but now I know. There is an agency a few miles up the creek called Wounded Knee, and it is situated on a stream of the same name. Everything is Wounded Knee up this way.”

“Say, Parker, I will tell you what I have been thinking of for the last few days,” said Carl. “Do you think you behaved yourself in that fight so that the colonel will give you leave of absence for a week?”