The Vanishing Race: The Last Great Indian Council

by Joseph K. Dixon

Chief Runs the Enemy

Chief Runs-the-Enemy

Imagine a Roman warrior with clear-cut visage and flashing eye, his face written all over with battle lines, his voice running the entire gamut from rage to mirth, and you have a mental picture of Chief Runs-the-Enemy, a tall, wiry Teton Sioux whose more than sixty-four years of life have crossed many a battlefield and won many a triumph. From boyhood days a ringing challenge to battle seemed ever vibrant in the air he breathed. When I asked him to let me drink at some of the secret springs of his life his very first sentence contained the ring of battle!

“The first thing that I remember is that my father made me a bow and arrow; it was a small bow and arrow, and made in proportion to my size, compared with the bows and arrows used in killing buffalo. I had seen the buffalo meat that they brought in and the wild game. My father taught me how to use the bow and arrow, and also how to ride a horse, and soon it became natural for me to ride. I soon grew to be able to use the bow and arrow that my father used; with it [pg 63] I killed buffalo. My father also taught me how to skin the buffalo, so that when I killed the buffalo I knew how to skin it and bring the buffalo meat home. My father taught me to pity the old men and women, and when I went on the warpath to be brave, and even try to die on the field. My father also taught me that it was better to go on the field of battle and have my body filled with arrows from the enemy and die on the field, and let the wolves come and eat up my flesh and bones, rather than be wrapped up and buried in some high tree, and in this spirit I went forth into all my fights. I remember when I was very young I went on the warpath and carried the bundles of moccasins and provisions for the war party. When I was fifteen years old I went with my first war party. The snow was very deep and hard, so that the horses slipped round. We charged upon the Assinaboines. I remember when we charged the camp we found one Indian down in the creek trapping foxes. We did not know he was there. As soon as he saw us he ran toward his own camp, and I whipped up my horse and ran after him. The enemy came out with guns and bows and arrows. I ran the man clear into the midst of the smoke; I came back without even myself or my horse getting hurt. That is how I got my name, Runs-the-Enemy. I was then at the age of fifteen. When we got back to camp the Sioux people [pg 64] said I did not know what I was doing, and I replied that I knew that was what my father had taught me. I performed this deed in the face of a lot of brave warriors, and this is how my name is great among the Sioux. There was a lifelong enmity between the Sioux and the Assinaboines. My father was wounded by the Assinaboines, and I made up my mind I was going to do something to that tribe. I have been in about forty battles altogether, rather insignificant some of them, but about ten great battles. When I was about eighteen, a band of Sioux, including myself, went down to the Black Rees. They greatly outnumbered us. We attacked them, but did not kill any of them. They pursued us a long way, killing five of our number. My horse was hit with an arrow, and I jumped off, and while I was running I was shot through the ankle with an arrow. The enemy surrounded me; my own friends had gone on. I crossed my wounded ankle over the other foot and defended myself as best I could. I looked at the ground and the sky, and made up my mind that this was my last day. Just at this moment, while I was surrounded by my enemies, one of my friends was brave enough to come back; he rode into the midst of our foes and put me on the back of his horse, and we rode away in safety. Let me tell you about the other wound that I received. In one of the late battles that we had with the [pg 65] tribe of Black Rees, in 1874, I was shot through the thigh, a ball also going through the forearm, and breaking the bone.”

Scouting Party on the Plains

“Let me tell you about my connection with the battle of the Little Rosebud. With my war party I joined the Sioux camp on the Rosebud River. We camped first at Lame Deer. When I arrived at the Sioux camp at Lame Deer we were near the Cheyenne camp, and the Cheyennes had built a big bonfire. They were singing and dancing around the fire. I was told that there were some Cheyennes that had reached camp that day or the day before from the Black Hills, and they brought the news that the soldiers were coming. The reason for the campfire and the dancing was to pick out the bravest of the Cheyennes and send them back to find out the location of the troops and bring back word. The campfire was so big and so bright and the dancing and shooting so boisterous that I went over to the Cheyenne camp to see for myself. And I saw them choosing the braves for this scouting duty. The scouts must have numbered ten. They started right off on their mission. The next morning we broke camp and came over the hills. We camped about half a day's journey from the Custer battlefield. That night, after we camped, there was no news, and I went to bed and went to sleep. The next morning I was awakened by firing, and the report came to me that there was going to [pg 66] be trouble, for the troops were coming. Almost at once everybody who could ride a horse or hold a gun mounted his horse and rode away to meet the troops. The Cheyenne scouts led the way. It was not very long until I heard the report of rifles, over in the gully. After the report of the guns we heard a cry from the hilltop; an Indian was on the hill crying as hard as he could, telling us to make the charge at once. Then one of their number was killed outright. The occasion of the shots was that four or five of our Sioux had gone around us and had gone into the soldiers' camp and stolen some horses, and the soldiers were firing at the horse-thieves; four of them escaped, one being killed. This was the screaming we heard. We no sooner heard it than we made a dash. I cannot tell you the number of our Indians. There were the different bands of the Sioux, and the entire tribe of the Cheyennes. The charge we made was enough to scare anybody. As we got on top of the hill the soldiers, who were already after the horse-thieves, knowing that we outnumbered them, all fled back. The cavalry supported by a file of infantry stopped, and we also stopped and had a great battle there. We simply circled them, and did not give them a chance to charge, as we greatly outnumbered them. We killed a great many soldiers, shot down a good many of their horses, for there were lots of them lying on the ground, wounded and [pg 67] dead. This battle the Indians called the Battle of the Wolf Mountains, known to the soldiers and the Crows by this name, and to the Sioux as the Battle of the Head of the Rosebud. The general sentiment was that we were victorious in that battle, for the soldiers did not come upon us, but retreated back into Wyoming. We understood that General Crook was in command of the United States troops, led by Crow scouts. They called General Crook, ‘Three Stars.’ When our Indians made the charge upon the United States troops we found the Crow scouts standing between us and the troops. If it had not been for the Crow scouts we would have charged right through to the soldiers. The Crow scouts were in between us, and received the fire from both sides. After the battle ended and the soldiers returned, we got home to our camp without any fear. We spent the whole of the next day in camp at the Little Rosebud, and the day after we came over on to the plains by the Custer Battlefield.”