Captain French was the bravest man the Sioux ever fought. Red Horse says he repeatedly covered the retreat of his men. Finally the soldiers gained the top of the hill and began to throw up little earthworks, but were all killed. Red Horse said some of the soldiers became demoralized and begged the Sioux to take them prisoners but not to kill them.
At Pine Ridge agency I was told that Flat Hip, an Uncapapa Sioux, claimed to have killed Custer. Flat Hip died of consumption a few years after the battle. No one knew positively as to Custer’s manner of death, but two men, dressed alike, were noticed for their bravery. Oglalas at Pine Ridge said Sitting Bull was not in the fight, but made medicine while it was in progress. Eastman’s account is probably more correct.
Many Sioux surrendered after the summer of 1876, and were returned to their respective agencies. Sitting Bull and his most faithful followers fled to Canada, where he remained some time. General MacKenzie took nearly all of Red Cloud’s horses shortly after the Custer battle, thus effectively preventing further hostilities.
September 3, 1877, a soldier ran a bayonet into Crazy Horse while the latter was confined as a prisoner of war in the guard-house of Fort Robinson. The murder occasioned much talk among the Sioux, and, but for the interference of Red Cloud, who counseled peace, would have resulted in a war of revenge. Crazy Horse was a desperate but withal, a brave Indian.
During the latter part of 1876 and 1877, Red Cloud gave General Crook a party of young men to help him fight the Cheyennes, which was greatly to his credit, considering his treatment at the hands of the Whites.
After the removal of his people to Pine Ridge agency he was somewhat dissatisfied because of the poor land given him as a reservation. He also appealed to Washington for reimbursement for the ponies stolen by lawless men. There are voluminous reports, Congressional and Interior Department, filled with speeches of Red Cloud and his people, and all more or less pathetic. They ask for fulfillment of treaty stipulations, for money due, and for cattle and goods. At the time of the visit of the Congressional Committee in 1883 he had 8000 people under him. The flag from Fort Robinson agency was there, and, by the way, there is an incident regarding that flag. Their Agent had cut and hauled a long pole, upon which he proposed to raise a flag. Red Cloud said he wanted no flag over his reservation, and so his men cut to pieces the flagstaff, but the Agent saved the colors and sent them to Pine Ridge.
Red Cloud last achieved prominence in the Messiah craze of 1890.[[32]] Whether he believed in the coming of an Indian Savior is uncertain, but I know that he used his influence to preserve peace.
When the news of the Wounded Knee massacre reached Pine Ridge, a few miles distant, most of the friendlies “stampeded,” tore down their lodges and fled north. Red Cloud and his daughter and son, in spite of protests, were compelled to accompany them. Jack Red Cloud, his son, smuggled him out of camp, and his daughter led him eighteen miles through a severe blizzard, back to Pine Ridge. I mention this incident to show the faithfulness of the man.
Red Cloud was nearly blind and aged rapidly after 1890. Eighty-seven years is a long time for an Indian to live. Continual exposure, uncertain food supply, and frail habitation, break down the constitution, and one rarely sees an Indian more than sixty years of age. During the last years of his life Red Cloud enjoyed the comforts of a two-story frame-house. It was given him by the Government as a special mark of honor. During the presence of the troops he kept a little American flag and a white peace flag constantly floating above it. He bemoaned the fate of his race, and from his conversation one could easily discern that he had done his duty, had defended the claims of the Dakotas in adversity as in prosperity. Over twenty years ago I had several conversations with him through the interpreter. He dwelt upon the happy “buffalo days”, and the free life of the Plains sixty years ago. We stepped outside the house and he told me to look about over the valley, for his eyes were dim; but he knew its character. I cannot give the exact words of his speech, but it was somewhat as follows: “You see this barren waste. We have a little land along the creek which affords good grazing, but we must use some of it for corn and wheat. There are other creeks which have bottoms like this, but most of the land is poor and worthless. Think of it! I, who used to own rich soil in a well-watered country so extensive that I could not ride through it in a week on my fastest pony, am put down here! Why, I have to go five miles for wood for my fire. Washington took our lands and promised to feed and support us. Now I, who used to control 5000 warriors, must tell Washington when I am hungry. I must beg for that which I own. If I beg hard, they put me in the guard-house. We have trouble. Our girls are getting bad. Coughing sickness every winter (consumption) carries away our best people. My heart is heavy, I am old, I cannot do much more. Young man, I wish there was some one to help my poor people when I am gone.”
It is a singular anomaly that the character of an Indian should not be gauged by the same standards employed in measuring the virtues and worth of a white man. To my mind Red Cloud’s high character places him on an equality with prominent men of America, irrespective of color.