“Once on Tongue River there was a white soldier of the United States
troops whom the Indians called Bear Shirt; he wore long hair like Custer.
I was with him scouting for him. We called him Bear Shirt because he used
to wear a bear coat. We came upon a band of Sioux, and there was a fight.
This was a long fight, and there were many killed on both sides. In this
fight when the Sioux got the best of the soldiers and the soldiers
retreated, I stayed behind to protect them. The soldiers were so tired
they could not run, and the Sioux killed off those who were too tired to
run. I remained in the rear to protect them until they came to the main
body of troops. When we were rested we went back to the main body of the
Sioux and had another long fight and fought until sundown. There were a
great many killed on both sides. We camped right where we quit fighting.
The next morning we started to fight again and fought all day; again many
were killed on both sides. The next day we went over the two battlefields
and gathered up the dead soldiers and buried them. These battles were on
Tongue River. After we had buried the soldiers I came back with the rest
of the troops as far as the Yellowstone, and then went home.” And yet
such heroisms wrought out in lonely mountain fastnesses or on sun-parched
plains will go unhonoured and unsung.
[Chief Timbo]