where we had killed all of the soldiers. Lots of women and boys were
there. The boys were going about making coups by stabbing or shooting
arrows into the dead men. Some of the bodies had many arrows sticking
in them. Many hands and feet had been cut off, and the limbs and
bodies and heads had many stabs and slashes. Some of this had been
done by the warriors, during and immediately after the battle. More
was added, though, by enraged and weeping women relatives of the
Sioux and Cheyennes who had been killed. The women used sheathknives
and hatchets.
A dog was following one of the Sioux women among the dead soldiers. I
did not see any other dog there, neither on that day nor on the day
before, when the fight was on. There were some Indian dogs tangling
among the feet of the horses at the time of the fighting of the first
soldiers, on the valley above the camps. But even here most of them
were called away by the women and old people going to the western
hilltops.
Three different soldiers, among all of the dead in both places of
battle, attracted special notice from the Indians. The first was the
man wearing the buckskin suit and who had the colored writing and
pictures on his breast and arms. Another was the black man killed
among the first soldiers on the valley. The third was one having gold
among his teeth. We did not understand how this metal got there, nor
why it was there.
Paper boxes of ammunition were in the leather bags carried on the
saddles of the soldiers. Besides, in all of the belts taken from the
dead men there were cartridges. Some belts had only a few left in
them. In others the loops still contained many, an occasional one
almost full. I did not see nor hear of any belt entirely emptied of
its cartridges.
All during that forenoon, as well as during the afternoon and night
before, both in the camps and on the battle grounds, Indians were
saying to each other: “I got some tobacco.” “I got coffee.” “I got
two horses.” “I got a soldier saddle.” “I got a good gun.” Some got
things they did not understand.
One young Cheyenne took something from a dead soldier just after all
of them had been killed. He was puzzled by it. Some others looked at
it. I was with them. It was made of white metal and had glass on one
side. On this side were marks of some kind. While the Cheyenne was
looking at it he got it up toward his ear. Then he put it up close.
“It is alive!” he said.
Others put it to their ears and listened. I put it up to mine.
“Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick,” it was saying.
We talked about its use. We agreed generally it was that soldier’s
special medicine. Many Indians came and wondered about it. The young
man decided to keep it for his own medicine.
When I was getting ready the next morning to go and fight again the
soldiers staying on the hilltop, the Cheyenne young man had a crowd
around him again examining his strange white man medicine. They were
listening, but it made no sound. After different ones had studied it,
he finally threw it away as far as he could throw it.
“It is not good medicine for me,” he said. “It is dead.”
I saw another soldier medicine thing something like this one, but the
other one was larger and it did not make the ticking noise. It acted,
though, like it was alive. When it was held with the glass side up
a little arrow fluttered around. When it was held quiet for a while
the arrow gradually stopped fluttering. Every time it stopped the
point of the arrow was toward the north, down the valley. There was
talk then of other soldiers coming from that direction, so it was
decided this medicine object was useful for finding out at any time
where might be soldiers. Little Shield had it when I saw it. He gave
it to High Walking. Another Cheyenne got a pair of field glasses. We
understood them. This was a big pair.
Cleaners for the rifles puzzled us a while. They were in joints and
were carried in a long hole in the end of the wooden stock. Pretty
soon we learned what was their use. I saw one rifle that had a shell
of cartridge in its barrel. A Sioux had it. He could not put into the
gun any other cartridge, so he threw it into the river.
Yellow Weasel, a Cheyenne, got a bugle. He tried to make a noise with
it, but he could not. Others tried. Different ones puffed and blowed
at it. But nobody could make it sound out. After a while we heard a
bugle making a big noise somewhere among the Sioux. The Cheyennes
said: “The Sioux got a good one. This one Yellow Weasel has is no
good. He might as well throw it away.” But he kept it, and it was not
long until he was making it sound.
One Cheyenne got a flag. There were several others among the Sioux. I
do not know just how many they got, but I believe I saw nine of them.
Bridle bits were thrown away, but the leather parts were kept. I
got two sets of bridle reins, but no other parts of the bridles. A
Cheyenne gave them to me. All of the soldier boots were taken from
them. But they were not worn by the Indians. The bottoms were cut off
and discarded. Only the tops used. These made good leather pouches,
or the leather was cut up to make something else. Old men were
allowed to have all of the saddles. But only a few of the Cheyenne
old men got them. I saw lots of Sioux old men riding around on
soldier saddles, either on the soldier horses or the Indian horses.
All of the soldier horses taken by the Indians were good. They were
fat and sleek and strong and lively. They were better than any of the
Indian horses. Some were killed or were so badly wounded we did not
want them. But when we could scare them away from the soldiers as the
fighting was going on, we did this. Any time that horses got among
us we turned them toward the river, for the old men or the boys to
capture. It was easy to do this, as they were very thirsty. One big
band of them went down from the west end of the ridge.
Noisy Walking died during the night after the great battle. Six
Cheyennes now had been killed. Another man, Open Belly, was badly
wounded and was expected to die. He was about thirty years old, but
he had neither wife nor children. The six dead were:
Lame White Man, age about thirty-eight, wife and two children.
Limber Bones, age twenty, not married.
Black Bear, age twenty, not married.
Noisy Walking, age eighteen, not married.
Hump Nose, age sixteen, not married.
Whirlwind, age sixteen, not married.
Others had wounds that crippled them but did not threaten to kill
them. Little Bird got a bullet through a thigh. Many had scratch
wounds. Sun Bear almost got killed. He went into the first great
Cheyenne charge. A bullet glanced off his forehead. He was dazed and
he fell down. But he got up right away and went on fighting.
Hump Nose and Whirlwind were killed during the first battle, above
the camps. Hump Nose fell on the west side of the river, in the
valley fighting. Whirlwind’s death took place on the east side,
when he had the fight with the Corn Indian, who also was killed.
Lame White Man and Noisy Walking received their bullets at the time
of the first charge among the Custer soldiers who rode down toward
the river. Open Belly, our man who died after we arrived east of
Powder river, was hit by a soldier bullet when he was riding across
the bench where the stone house of the Custer Battlefield National
Cemetery now is standing. Limber Bones and Black Bear were killed on
the steep slope just north of the present Custer stone monument. Both
Limber Bones and Black Bear were a little taller than I was. After
they were gone I was the tallest young man in the tribe, I believe.
I heard of a few women riding out to watch the fighting, but I did
not see any women there during that time. None of them was doing any
fighting. All of them kept far back.
The Indians supposed all the time that these were the same soldiers
we had fought on the upper Rosebud valley. Little Wolf and his
people, arriving just after the fight ended, explained to us that
these men just killed came from another direction. Then, when we
learned that the Indians with these soldiers at the Little Bighorn
were Corn Indians, not Crows or Shoshones, it began to appear that
the Little Wolf band had it right, that these really were not the
Rosebud battle soldiers.
During the afternoon it was learned that yet another band of white
men were coming up the Little Bighorn valley.[43] All of the young
men wanted to fight them. A council of chiefs was held. They decided
we should continue in our same course--not fight any soldiers if we
could get away without doing so. All of the Indians then got ready to
move.
Mourning families abandoned and left behind their meat, robes,
cooking pots and everything else they owned, as well as their vacated
or destroyed lodges. That was a custom among all of the Sioux tribes
the same as with the Cheyennes. I saw several Sioux tepees left
standing. I supposed there were dead warriors in some of them, or
perhaps in all of them. Some Cheyenne tepees were left standing.
These had belonged to families wherein a member had been killed. But,
except the lodges and property abandoned by mourning people, all of
the possessions of the Indians were taken with us.
Late in the afternoon the procession of tribes was in movement.
Again, as at all other times, the Cheyennes went ahead and the
Uncpapas came last. Several parties of young men went aside to go
across the river and shoot again among the soldiers camped on the
high hill. A few stayed there until darkness came. Uncpapa scouts
watched behind, observing particularly the new band of soldiers
coming up the Little Bighorn valley.
We set out southwestward up the small valley of a creek just south
of the present Garryowen railroad station. Soon we mounted to the
benchland and traveled southward. Late in the night, the whole
caravan stopped and rested a few hours, all sleeping in the open,
with no lodges. At daylight we traveled on, now following up the
Little Bighorn valley. During the afternoon we stopped for camping.
The Cheyenne circle, at the leading or southern end, was about two
miles below the mouth of Greasy Grass creek, below the place where
now is located the town of Lodge Grass, Montana.
FOOTNOTES:
[40] In a letter published in Brady’s book, Private Wm. E. Morris
tells of the death of Tanner, of Troop M, while he was after water
for the Reno wounded men.--T. B. M.
[41] Isaiah, a negro, Sioux interpreter for the Seventh cavalry.--T.
B. M.
[42] The Arikaras were known as Corn people.--T. B. M.
[43] The Terry-Gibbon forces. They camped that night on the site of
the present Crow Agency.--T. B. M.
XI
_Rovings after the Victory._
All of the lodges were set up here below the mouth of Greasy Grass
creek. All of the six tribal camp circles were arranged as they had
been before the soldiers came and troubled us. The Cheyennes again
were on one of their favorite old camping spots. They still were at
the advance side of the group of circles. The Uncpapas still were at
the opposite side.
I was stationed as a wolf to keep lookout from a hill near our camp.
As I sat there, an Indian young man rode up to me. He asked me, in
Sioux language, “Who are you?” I said, “I am a Cheyenne.” He got
down from his horse. He had tobacco and a pipe, and we had a smoke
together. He told me he belonged to the Waist and Skirt people, but I
already could see that, by his earrings. All of the Waist and Skirt
men wore elk teeth hanging from their ears. After we had smoked and
visited a while, he said:
“I think the big chief of the soldiers we killed was named Long Hair.
One of my people killed him. He has known Long Hair many years, and
he is sure this was him. He could tell him by the long and wavy
yellow hair.”
This was the first time I ever had heard of any such person as Long
Hair. The news was interesting to me at first, but after I had
thought a few moments about it the story seemed not very important. I
recalled myself having seen at least three soldiers having long and
light-colored hair. One of these I had shot after he was dead. Just
after the end of the fighting I saw this long-haired soldier lying
there without any appearance of wounds on him. So I put the muzzle
of my rifle against the side of his head and sent a bullet through
it. This man’s clothing was gone when I first saw him. I had not any
thought about whether or not he was a chief.
A great council was held at the Greasy Grass camp that night. Chiefs
of all of the tribes were there. It was out of doors, in the midst of
the camp circles. I believe it was at the Ogallala camp, but I am not
sure. At this council I heard an Uncpapa Sioux war chief say:
“Long Hair was big chief of the soldiers. I saw him there, and I
killed him. I know it was him. I could not mistake the long and wavy
yellow hair.”[44]
I did not hear anyone else during that time make claims of knowing
who was the soldier big chief. There was some talk, though, that all
of those soldiers had been chosen specially for their bravery and had
been sent out direct from Washington. It was generally agreed that
whoever was the big chief of them, he must have been the big chief of
all of the white man soldiers in the world.
At this council I heard chiefs of the different tribes announce the
number of their killed. The Cheyennes had lost 6. Uncpapas, 7. Arrows
All Gone, 4. Minneconjoux, 3. Ogallalas, 2. I have forgotten the
numbers from the Waist and Skirt, Burned Thigh and Blackfeet Sioux.
I think, though, that all of these three tribes together might have
lost 7 or 8. Total deaths, about 30.[45]
The Cheyenne warriors had a dance at this Greasy Grass camp.
Charcoal Bear, our medicine chief, brought the buffalo skin from
the sacred tepee and put it upon the top of a pole in the center of
our camp circle. We danced around this pole. No women took part in
the dancing. Many of them had sore legs from the mourning cuts. Our
dance was not carried very far into the night. It was mostly a short
telling of experiences, a counting of coups. My father told, in a few
words, what his two sons had done. When he had ended the telling of
my warrior acts, he said: “The name of this son of mine is Wooden
Leg.” Up to this time some people still used my boyhood name, Eats
From His Hand. But now this old name was entirely gone.
Some of the Sioux people had little dances here, the same as the
Cheyennes were having. But not all of them did this. The Uncpapas did
not dance. They said it was not time, that we ought to mourn yet a
while. Some of them came to look on quietly at our gathering.
Only one sleep we stayed at the Greasy Grass location. The great band
of Indians trailed from there on up the Little Bighorn valley. Our
next stop was near where is the present town of Wyola.
An accidental killing took place during the time we were at this next
camp. That afternoon, as we were traveling, a Cheyenne named Coffee
was among the men who hunted buffalo along the way. He got a load of
meat on his pack horse and joined us just after the camp had been set
up. He belonged to our tribal medicine lodge, as a helper for the
chief medicine man. He rode to the medicine lodge and made a movement
to dismount from his horse. He had a rifle strapped in front of his
body. As he swung himself from the horse, his rifle accidentally was
discharged. Coffee originally had been a Southern Cheyenne, but for
many years he had been a member of our tribe. He was an old man, but
he never was married. He said that one having his position as helper
to the medicine chief ought not to have a wife. But Charcoal Bear,
the medicine chief, had a wife and two children.
After one sleep at this place we turned eastward and went over the
hills to the extreme upper Rosebud. One sleep at this place. We moved
on down, going past the ground where we had fought the soldiers on
this creek. We camped a few miles below where this fight had taken
place. One sleep here. The movement was kept up down this valley. The
next camp was pitched near the present Busby. After one sleep here
we traveled on northward. This time we stopped at our favorite old
camping place on the Rosebud above the mouth of Muddy creek.
I was not with the camps at all of these stopping places. Like many
others, I was out a part of the time looking for meat. I took it to
my people when I could get any. Buffalo were scarce along the line of
travel, so most of the game killed was elk, deer or antelope. Many
people among the Indians were hungry for more food. Partly because of
the fast traveling and partly because the hunters were not going far
on account of soldiers in the country, the food demands of the people
could not be supplied to their full satisfaction.
I went out with one party, though, as far as the present town of
Sheridan, Wyoming. We found there plenty of buffalo. We loaded our
pack horses and started to return to the moving Indians. But somebody
saw soldiers, or it was said they had been seen. I did not see them.
But I quickly threw off the meat from my pack horse, the same as the
others did, and we rode away southward as fast as our horses could
go. Not far off we got into a wooded canyon and hid there until
darkness came. At night we went back and picked up all of our meat.
We then traveled on, and the next day we got to our people.
We Cheyennes had a dance at our camp near the mouth of Muddy creek,
on the Rosebud. I do not recollect any dance in any other tribal
circle at this place. Our warriors again talked in public of acts
at the great battle. One would dance, flourish a gun, and say, “I
killed a white man soldier.” Another would do the same. Each one who
did this had to have witnesses to verify his claims. A few women
took part in the dance. My grandmother was one of them. She had the
bearded face scalp I gave to her, and she told of my doings in the
fight with the first soldiers. After this dance, she threw away the
scalp.
One sleep we stayed here. Then we continued down the Rosebud. The
next stop was below the mouth of Lame Deer creek, as it now is
known. We moved from there on down to the mouth of the stream now
called Greenleaf creek. All along the Rosebud we had seen the trail
of the soldiers we had killed at the Little Bighorn. We now had full
proof that they had come up this valley from the Yellowstone. After
one sleep at the Greenleaf camping place we left the Rosebud valley.
The direction of movement was turned eastward. We followed the little
branch stream to its head and went on over the divide to Tongue
river. Stopped there, one sleep. Next day, traveled up this valley
to Otter creek and on up this little valley several miles. One sleep
in the camp on Otter creek. The next camp was set up at the head of
Otter creek. The day after that our great band of tribes went over
another divide and camped on what the white people call Pumpkin
creek. One sleep, then eastward to a branch of Powder river. Next,
to Powder river. Following, one day of travel down Powder river and
one more camping beside this stream. Crossed the river and went up a
creek flowing into its east side. This creek is the next one south
of that one where the combined Indians had traveled in starting from
east of Powder river toward the valleys westward from there.
We now were in the same region where all of the tribes had come
together three months before this time. In coming back to the
gathering place all of the Indians traveled together, as we had done
in going westward from it. The Cheyennes still were moving in the
advance and camping in the advance. The Uncpapas still were following
last and camping last. On the return we hurried from place to place.
There was no stopping for special hunting. I believe we remained
only one sleep at each of the camps. I may have forgotten one or two
places of our camping. I think, though, that it was sixteen or more
sleeps from the battle camp on the Little Bighorn back to this place
on the creek east of Powder river.
Open Belly, our badly wounded man, died here east of Powder river.
One wounded Sioux had died along the way. This brought the Cheyenne
loss from the battle up to seven. Some Sioux count also was increased
by one. All of the Indians then had lost about thirty-two warriors as
a result of the great battle. The wounded men had been carried during
all of the journey on travois beds. That makes easier riding than any
other way I know. But it may have been they could have become well if
during all the time they had been quiet in a lodge.
The Indians were hungry. Our meat was all gone. The horses had been
traveling hard every day and were tired. The fat and sleek soldier
horses we had were more tired than the Indian ponies. It was said
this was because they were not used to living on grass alone, as the
Indian ponies were.
We stayed four or five sleeps at this camping place. Every day the
chiefs met in council. Finally, they decided on a separation of the
tribes. It seemed there was no danger just now from soldiers. By
traveling separately, or in small bands, more meat and skins could be
taken by each tribe or band. The horses all could get more grass when
scattered. Everybody agreed it was best to separate. I think this
was the intention of the chiefs all the time, but we were staying
together for yet a few days of final visiting in a quiet camp before
the separation.
The Cheyennes went first down the Powder river. We followed it to
where it flows into Elk river. We found a big pile of corn in sacks
by Elk river. We fed some of it to our soldier horses. Some people
cooked a little and ate it. We emptied out most of the remainder and
took the sacks.
By Powder river we saw lying dead an old man and an old woman. They
were Sioux. Both of the bodies were humped down close together among
some brush as if they had been in hiding there when they had been
shot. Many bullet wounds were in both of them, all of the holes in
the back of the head and back of the body. There were lots of tracks
of soldier horses there. The old man was scalped, but the woman was
not.
We saw a steamboat on Elk river. Soldiers were on the boat. As they
passed along, some of the Cheyennes shot at them. I do not know
whether or not any soldier was hit by the shots. They did not shoot
back at us. The boat did not stop.
We moved back up Powder river. We camped and hunted all along far
above the forks of the Powder and the Little Powder. We went over
to Tongue river, to the upper Rosebud, to the upper Little Bighorn
branches. We moved back and forth among the valleys of these higher
regions. We got plenty of game and our horses had plenty of grass.
Four Cheyennes, Bear Man, Bullets Not Harm Him, Big Nose and myself
Wooden Leg, went out from a camp on the upper Rosebud to get buffalo
meat. We went far out southward. We got our pack horses loaded and
started back. We heard many shots following close after each other.
“Soldiers are after somebody,” we agreed.
We hurried away from that neighborhood. None of us went to look. The
next day at camp we learned what had happened. Some soldiers had been
after a mixed hunting party of Sioux and Cheyennes. Tall Bear, a
Cheyenne, had been killed.
All during the remainder of the summer the Cheyennes traveled and
hunted. We kept mostly in the upper parts of the valleys. Not many
of our people went to the reservation. But some more came out and
joined us. Dull Knife, the old man chief, was with us soon after the
separation of the tribes. All of the four old men chiefs now were
here. Charcoal Bear kept our tribal medicine lodge set up at every
place of camping. When the leaves began to fall we were on Powder
river. We camped and hunted along up its valley. As the snows of
winter began to fall we moved farther up.
Ten of us young men decided to go on a war party against the Crows.
Black Hawk and Yellow Weasel were the big men or leaders of this
party. We left the tribal camp on a small creek flowing into the west
side of Powder river. It was located then almost in the Big Horn
mountains, far up beyond where now is Buffalo, Wyoming.
Six sleeps we ten Cheyenne warriors traveled westward and northward,
looking all the time for Crows. We would kill any Crow found, if we
could, or whatever horses of theirs we might find would be made ours
if we could get them. Our sixth sleep was on the west side of the
Bighorn river, just below the place where in past times had been the
soldier fort.[46] We now were in Crow land. But we had not yet seen
any Crow Indian.
We followed on down the west side of the Bighorn to its mouth. We
crossed there to its east side and went a little distance down the
Elk river. There we saw a Crow man, woman and some children traveling
up the valley with only their one lodge. We hid back. They did not
see us. We decided not to harm them. We turned back and set off
up the east side of the Bighorn. When we got to the mouth of the
Little Bighorn we followed up this valley. Our tenth sleep of the
war journey found us camping where now is Crow Agency, only a short
distance down the river from where had been the great combined camp
when we had fought the soldiers during the early summer.