General Sully, about the 1st of September, with eight companies of the Seventh Cavalry and five companies of infantry, left Fort Dodge, on the Arkansas, on a hurried expedition against the Kiowas, Arapahoes, and Cheyennes. The command marched in a general southeasterly direction, and reached the sand hills of the Beaver and Wolf rivers, by a circuitous route, on the fifth day. When nearly through that barren region, they were attacked by a force of eight hundred of the allied tribes under the leadership of the famous Kiowa chief, Satanta. A running fight was kept up with the savages on the first day, in which two of the cavalry were killed and one wounded.
That night the savages came close enough to camp to fire into it (an unusual proceeding in Indian warfare, as they rarely molest troops during the night), I now quote from Custer again:
The next day General Sully directed his march down the
valley of the Beaver; but just as his troops were breaking
camp, the long wagon-train having already "pulled out," and
the rear guard of the command having barely got into their
saddles, a party of between two and three hundred warriors,
who had evidently in some inexplicable manner contrived to
conceal themselves until the proper moment, dashed into the
deserted camp within a few yards of the rear of the troops,
and succeeded in cutting off a few led horses and two of
the cavalrymen who, as is often the case, had lingered a
moment behind the column.
Fortunately, the acting adjutant of the cavalry, Brevet
Captain A. E. Smith, was riding at the rear of the column
and witnessed the attack of the Indians. Captain Hamilton,[70] of the Seventh Cavalry, was also present in command of the
rear guard. Wheeling to the rightabout, he at once prepared
to charge the Indians and attempt the rescue of the two
troopers who were being carried off before his very eyes.
At the same time, Captain Smith, as representative of the
commanding officer of the cavalry, promptly took the
responsibility of directing a squadron of the cavalry to
wheel out of column and advance in support of Captain
Hamilton's guard. With this hastily formed detachment,
the Indians, still within pistol-range, but moving off with
their prisoners, were gallantly charged and so closely
pressed that they were forced to relinquish one of their
prisoners, but not before shooting him through the body and
leaving him on the ground, as they supposed, mortally wounded.
The troops continued to charge the retreating Indians,
upon whom they were gaining, determined, if possible,
to effect the rescue of their remaining comrade. They were
advancing down one slope while the Indians, just across
a ravine, were endeavouring to escape with their prisoner
up the opposite ascent, when a peremptory order reached the
officers commanding the pursuing force to withdraw their men
and reform the column at once. The terrible fate awaiting
the unfortunate trooper carried off by the Indians spread
a deep gloom throughout the command. All were too familiar
with the horrid customs of the savages to hope for a moment
that the captive would be reserved for aught but a slow,
lingering death, from tortures the most horrible and painful
which blood-thirsty minds could suggest. Such was the truth
in his case, as we learned afterwards when peace (?) was
established with the tribes then engaged in war.
The expedition proceeded down the valley of the Beaver,
the Indians contesting every step of the way. In the
afternoon, about three o'clock, the troops arrived at
a ridge of sand hills a few miles southeast of the
presentsite of Camp Supply, where quite a determined
engagement took place between the command and the three
tribes, Cheyennes, Arapahoes, and Kiowas, the Indians
being the assailants. The Indians seemed to have reserved
their strongest efforts until the troops and train had
advanced well into the sand hills, when a most obstinate
resistance—and well conducted, too—was offered the
farther advance of the troops. It was evident that the
troops were probably nearing the Indian villages, and that
this opposition to further advance was to save them. The
character of the country immediately about the troops was
not favourable to the operations of cavalry; the surface
of the rolling plain was cut up by irregular and closely
located sand hills, too steep and sandy to allow cavalry
to move with freedom, yet capable of being easily cleared
of savages by troops fighting on foot. The Indians took
post on the hilltops and began a harassing fire on the
troops and train. Captain Yates, with a single troop of
cavalry, was ordered forward to drive them away. This was
a proceeding which did not seem to meet with favour from
the savages. Captain Yates could drive them wherever he
encountered them, but they appeared in increased numbers
at some other threatened point. After contending in this
non-effective manner for a couple of hours, the impression
arose in the minds of some that the train could not be
conducted through the sand hills in the face of the strong
opposition offered by the Indians. The order was issued
to turn about and withdraw. The order was executed, and
the troop and train, followed by the exultant Indians,
retired a few miles to the Beaver, and encamped for the
night on the ground afterward known as Camp Supply.
Captain Yates had caused to be brought off the field, when
his troop was ordered to retire, the body of one of his men,
who had been slain in the fight. As the troops were to
continue their backward march next day, and it was impossible
to transport the dead body further, Captain Yates ordered
preparations made for interring it in camp that night.
Knowing that the Indians would thoroughly search the deserted
camp-ground almost before the troops should get out of sight,
and would be quick, with their watchful eyes, to detect a
grave, and, if successful in discovering it, would unearth
the body in order to get the scalp, directions were given
to prepare the grave after nightfall; and the spot selected
would have baffled any one but an Indian. The grave was
dug under the picket line to which the seventy or eighty
horses of the troop would be tethered during the night,
so that their constant tramping and pawing should completely
cover up and obliterate all traces. The following morning,
even those who had performed the sad rites of burial to
their fallen comrade could scarcely have indicated the exact
location of the grave. Yet when we returned to that point
a few weeks later, it was discovered that the wily savages
had found the place, unearthed the body, and removed the
scalp of their victim on the day following the interment.[71]
After leaving the camp at Supply, the Indians gradually increased their force, until they mustered about two thousand warriors. For four days and nights they hovered around the command, and by the time it reached Mulberry Creek there were not one thousand rounds of ammunition left in the whole force of troopers and infantrymen. At the creek, the incessant charges of the now infuriated savages compelled the troops to use this small amount held in reserve, and they found themselves almost at the mercy of the Indians. But before they were absolutely defenceless, Colonel Keogh had sent a trusty messenger in the night to Fort Dodge for a supply of cartridges to meet the command at the creek, which fortunately arrived there in time to save that spot from being a veritable "last ditch."
The savages, in the little but exciting encounter at the creek before the ammunition arrived, would ride up boldly toward the squadrons of cavalry, discharge the shots from their revolvers, and then, in their rage, throw them at the skirmishers on the flanks of the supply-train, while the latter, nearly out of ammunition, were compelled to sit quietly in their saddles, idle spectators of the extraordinary scene.[72]
Many of the Indians were killed on their ponies, however, by those who were fortunate enough to have a few cartridges left; but none were captured, as the savages had taken their usual precaution to tie themselves to their animals, and as soon as dead were dragged away by them.
CHAPTER XXIV. INVASION OF THE RAILROAD.
The tourist who to-day, in a palace car, surrounded by all the conveniences of our American railway service, commences his tour of the prairies at the Missouri River, enters classic ground the moment the train leaves the muddy flood of that stream on its swift flight toward the golden shores of the Pacific.
He finds a large city at the very portals of the once far West, with all the bustle and energy which is so characteristic of American enterprise.