On the Border with Crook

by John Gregory Bourke

The ground upon which Captain Munson and I were standing suddenly gave way, and down we both went, landing in the midst of a pile of squaws and children. The warriors twice tried to get aim at us, but were prevented by the crooked shape of the ravine; on the other side, “Big Bat” and another one of Stanton’s men, named Cary, had already secured position, and were doing their best to induce the Indians to surrender, crying out to them “Washte-helo” (Very good) and other expressions in Dakota, the meaning of which I did not clearly understand. The women and pappooses, covered with dirt and blood, were screaming in an agony of terror; behind and above us were the oaths and yells of the surging soldiers; back of the women lay what seemed, as near as we could make out, to be four dead bodies still weltering in their gore. Altogether, the scene, as far as it went, was decidedly infernal; there was very little to add to it, but that little was added by one of the scouts named Buffalo White, who incautiously exposed himself to find out what all the hubbub in the ravine meant. Hardly had he lifted his body before a rifle-ball pierced him through and through. He cried out in a way that was heart-rending: “O, Lord! O, Lord! They’ve got me now, boys!” and dropped limp and lifeless to the base of the hillock upon which he had perched himself, thirty feet into the ravine below at its deepest point.

Encouraged by “Big Bat,” the squaws and children ventured to come up to us, and were conducted down through the winds and turns of the ravine to where General Crook was; he approached and addressed them pleasantly; the women divined at once who he was, and clung to his hand and clothing, their own skirts clutched by the babies, who all the while wailed most dismally. When somewhat calmed down they said that their village belonged to the Spotted Tail Agency and was commanded by “Roman Nose” and “American Horse,” or “Iron Shield,” the latter still in the ravine. General Crook bade one of them go back and say that he would treat kindly all who surrendered. The squaw complied and returned to the edge of the ravine, there holding a parley, as the result bringing back a young warrior about twenty years old. To him General Crook repeated the assurances already given, and this time the young man went back, accompanied by “Big Bat,” whose arrival unarmed convinced “American Horse” that General Crook’s promises were not written in sand.

“American Horse” emerged from his rifle-pit, supported on one side by the young warrior, on the other by “Big Bat,” and slowly drew near the group of officers standing alongside of General Crook; the reception accorded the captives was gentle, and their wounded ones were made the recipients of necessary attentions. Out of this little nook twenty-eight Sioux—little and great, dead and alive—were taken; the corpses were suffered to lie where they fell. “American Horse” had been shot through the intestines, and was biting hard upon a piece of wood to suppress any sign of pain or emotion; the children made themselves at home around our fires, and shared with the soldiers the food now ready for the evening meal. We had a considerable quantity of dried buffalo-meat, a few buffalo-tongues, some pony-meat, and parfleche panniers filled with fresh and dried buffalo berries, wild cherries, wild plums, and other fruit—and, best find of all, a trifle of salt. One of the Sioux food preparations—dried meat, pounded up with wild plums and wild cherries—called “Toro,” was very palatable and nutritious; it is cousin-german to our own plum pudding.

These Indians had certificates of good conduct dated at Spotted Tail Agency and issued by Agent Howard. General Crook ordered that every vestige of the village and the property in it which could not be kept as serviceable to ourselves should be destroyed. The whole command ate ravenously that evening and the next morning, and we still had enough meat to load down twenty-eight of our strongest pack-mules. This will show that the official reports that fifty-five hundred pounds had been captured were entirely too conservative. I was sorry to see that the value of the wild fruit was not appreciated by some of the company commanders, who encouraged their men very little in eating it and thus lost the benefit of its anti-scorbutic qualities. All our wounded were cheerful and doing well, including Von Leuttewitz, whose leg had been amputated at the thigh.

The barking of stray puppies, the whining of children, the confused hum of the conversation going on among two thousand soldiers, officers, and packers confined within the narrow limits of the ravine, were augmented by the sharp crack of rifles and the whizzing of bullets, because “Crazy Horse,” prompt in answering the summons of his distressed kinsmen, was now on the ground, and had drawn his lines around our position, which he hoped to take by assault, not dreaming that the original assailants had been re-enforced so heavily. It was a very pretty fight, what there was of it, because one could take his seat almost anywhere and see all that was going on from one end of the field to the other. “Crazy Horse” moved his men up in fine style, but seemed to think better of the scheme after the cavalry gave him a volley from their carbines; the Sioux were not left in doubt long as to what they were to do, because the infantry battalions commanded by Burt and Daniel W. Burke got after them and raced them off the field, out of range.

One of our officers whose conduct impressed me very much was Lieutenant A. B. Bache, Fifth Cavalry: he was so swollen with inflammatory rheumatism that he had been hauled for days in a “travois” behind a mule; but, hearing the roll of rifles and carbines, he insisted upon being mounted upon a horse and strapped to the saddle, that he might go out upon the skirmish line. We never had a better soldier than he, but he did not survive the hardships of that campaign. The Sioux did not care to leave the battle-field without some token of prowess, and seeing a group of ten or twelve cavalry horses which had been abandoned during the day, and were allowed to follow along at their own pace, merely to be slaughtered by Bubb for meat when it should be needed, flattered themselves that they had a grand prize within reach; a party of bold young bucks, anxious to gain a trifle of renown, stripped themselves and their ponies, and made a dash for the broken-down cast-offs; the skirmishers, by some sort of tacit consent, refrained from firing a shot, and allowed the hostiles to get right into the “bunch” and see how hopelessly they had been fooled, and then when the Sioux started to spur and gallop back to their own lines the humming of bullets apprised them that our men were having the joke all to themselves.

Just as “Crazy Horse” hauled off his forces, two soldiers bare-footed, and in rags, walked down to our lines and entered camp; their horses had “played out” in the morning, and were in the group which the Sioux had wished to capture; the soldiers themselves had lain down to rest in a clump of rocks and fallen asleep to be awakened by the circus going on all around them; they kept well under cover, afraid as much of the projectiles of their friends as of the fire of the savages, but were not discovered, and now rejoined the command to be most warmly and sincerely congratulated upon their good fortune. It rained all night, but we did not care much, provided as we now were with plenty of food, plenty of fuel, and some extra bedding from the furs taken in the lodges. In the drizzling rain of that night the soul of “American Horse” took flight, accompanied to the Happy Hunting Grounds by the spirit of Private Kennedy.

After breakfast the next morning General Crook sent for the women and children, and told them that we were not making war upon such as they, and that all those who so desired were free to stay and rejoin their own people, but he cautioned them to say to all their friends that the American Government was determined to keep pegging away at all Indians in hostility until the last had been killed or made a prisoner, and that the red men would be following the dictates of prudence in surrendering unconditionally instead of remaining at war, and exposing their wives and children to accidents and dangers incidental to that condition. The young warrior, “Charging Bear,” declined to go with the squaws, but remained with Crook and enlisted as a scout, becoming a corporal, and rendering most efficient service in the campaign during the following winter which resulted so brilliantly.

“Crazy Horse” felt our lines again as we were moving off, but was held in check by Sumner, of the Fifth, who had one or two men slightly wounded, while five of the attacking party were seen to fall out of their saddles. The prisoners informed us that we were on the main trail of the hostiles, which, although now split, was all moving down to the south towards the agencies. Mills, Bubb, Schwatka, Chase, and fifty picked men of the Third Cavalry, with a train made up of all our strong mules under Tom Moore, with Frank Gruard as guide, were once more sent forward to try to reach Deadwood, learn all the news possible concerning the condition of the exposed mining hamlets near there, and obtain all the supplies in sight. Crook was getting very anxious to reach Deadwood before “Crazy Horse” could begin the work of devilment upon which he and his bands were bent, as the squaws admitted. Bubb bore a despatch to Sheridan, narrating the events of the trip since leaving Heart River.

Knowing that we were now practically marching among hostile Sioux, who were watching our every movement, and would be ready to attack at the first sign of lack of vigilance, Crook moved the column in such a manner that it could repel an attack within thirty seconds; that is to say, there was a strong advance-guard, a rear-guard equally strong, and lines of skirmishers moving along each flank, while the wounded were placed on “travois,” for the care of which Captain Andrews and his company of the Third Cavalry were especially detailed. One of the lodges was brought along from the village for the use of the sick and wounded, and afterwards given to Colonel Mills. The general character of the country between the Slim Buttes and the Belle Fourche remained much the same as that from the head of Heart River down, excepting that there was a small portion of timber, for which we were truly thankful. The captured ponies were butchered and issued as occasion required; the men becoming accustomed to the taste of the meat, which was far more juicy and tender than that of the broken-down old cavalry nags which we had been compelled to eat a few days earlier. The sight of an antelope, however, seemed to set everybody crazy, and when one was caught and killed squads of officers and men would fight for the smallest portion of flesh or entrails; I succeeded in getting one liver, which was carried in my nose-bag all day and broiled over the ashes at night, furnishing a very toothsome morsel for all the members of our mess.