I fought at the Custer fight with a band of one hundred and thirty
Two-Cattle Sioux under me. With the bravery and success I had had in
former battles, I was able to command the force at this fight. We were
encamped for two days in the valley of the Little Big Horn. The third day
we were going to break camp and move farther along, but the old men went
through the camp saying they were going to stay there still another day.
After the cry had gone through the camp that we were to remain, the horses
were all turned loose and were feeding on the hills north and west and
south, and we were resting in the camp. Everything was quiet. I went
over to the big tepee where there were several leading men, and we were
sitting there talking and smoking. About ten o’clock a band of Sioux, who
had been visiting the camp and had gone home, came rushing back with the
tidings that the soldiers were coming. We could hardly believe that the
soldiers were so near, and we were not very much depressed because of the
report for two reasons: the soldiers had gone back to Wyoming, and we did
not think they were near enough to attack us; and from the history of all
our tribe, away back for generations, it had never been known that
soldiers or Indians had attacked a Sioux camp in the daytime; they had
always waited for night to come. And still we sat there smoking. In a
short time we heard the report of rifles, and bullets whizzed through the
camp from the other side of the river. I left my pipe and ran as hard as
I could, as did all the others, to our tents. As I ran to my tent there
was a scream ran through the camp: “The soldiers are here! The soldiers
are here!” The Indians who were herding the horses on the hill rushed to
the camp with the horses, and the dust raised just like smoke. When I got
to my tent the men who were herding the horses had got the horses there,
and they were screaming. I grabbed my gun and cartridge belt, and the
noise and confusion was so great that we did not know what we were doing.
The women were running to the hills, and my heart was mad. The guns were
still firing in the upper part of the camp. I did not have time to put on
my war-bonnet; I jumped on the horse I had and made a pull for where the
firing was. The first thing I saw when I got to’the battle line was a
horse with a bridle on with the lines hanging down, and a dead Sioux.
When I got to this line of battle—I thought I was quick, but I found a lot
of Sioux already there—they were rushing on up the hill. We were all
naked, and the soldiers with their pack saddles and their uniforms on and
their black horses looked like great big buffalo. The Sioux were all
riding up the hill. We saw one lone Indian on the hill going down toward
the soldiers, and the river. We could not see him as he came down the
hill, but we could see the smoke coming from under his horse’s head, and
we all thought that he was going to make a charge on the soldiers, and we
all charged. It seemed as though that one Indian had the attention of all
the soldiers, and they were all firing at him. When we saw that the smoke
was all going toward the soldiers that gave us a chance to charge from
this side, and we all made a rush. When we made the charge we got them
all stampeded. For smoke and dust we could not see the soldiers as they
retreated toward the river. The Sioux were fresh, and we soon caught up
with them. We passed a black man in a soldier’s uniform and we had him.
He turned on his horse and shot an Indian right through the heart. Then
the Indians fired at this one man, and riddled his horse with bullets.
His horse fell over on his back, and the black man could not get up. I
saw him as I rode by. I afterward saw him lying there dead. We fought
them until they rolled and tumbled and finally had to go into the river,
which was very deep. We made them cross the river. The country around
the river in those days was very heavily wooded. We chased some of the
soldiers into the woods, and others across the river and up the hill. I
did not know the name of the commander of the soldiers at that time, but I
afterward heard that it was Reno. I also heard afterward that they had a
big trial and charged him with being a coward, but I praised him for
rushing into the camp. The reason I praised him was that he only had a
few soldiers and our camp was a great camp, and he came rushing into the
camp with his few soldiers. In all the history of my great-grandfather I
have never known of such an attack in daylight. After they retreated over
the hills and we had killed a large number of them that battle was ended.
I was at the Custer Battlefield this morning, and I noticed there were no
monuments up for the soldiers who fell on the Reno Field. As we had
finished with the Reno battle and were returning to camp we saw two men on
the Reno Hills waving two blankets as hard as they could. Two of us rode
over to where they were, and they yelled to us that the genuine stuff was
coming, and they were going to get our women and children. I went over
with the others and peeped over the hills and saw the soldiers advancing.
As I looked along the line of the ridge they seemed to fill the whole
hill. It looked as if there were thousands of them, and I thought we
would surely be beaten. As I returned I saw hundreds of Sioux. I looked
into their eyes and they looked different—they were filled with fear. I
then called my own band together, and I took off the ribbons from my hair,
also my shirt and pants, and threw them away, saving nothing but my belt
of cartridges and gun. I thought most of the Sioux will fall to-day: I
will fall with them. Just at that time Sitting-Bull made his appearance.
He said, just as though I could hear him at this moment: “A bird, when it
is on its nest, spreads its wings to cover the nest and eggs and protect
them. It cannot use its wings for defense, but it can cackle and try to
drive away the enemy. We are here to protect our wives and children, and
we must not let the soldiers get them.” He was on a buckskin horse, and
he rode from one end of the line to the other, calling out: “Make a brave
fight!” We were all hidden along the ridge of hills. While Sitting-Bull
was telling this I looked up and saw that the Cheyennes had made a circle
around Custer on the west, north, and east sides, and that left a gap on
the south side for us to fill. We then filled up the gap, and as we did
so we looked over to the Cheyenne side, and there was a woman among the
Cheyennes who was nearest the soldiers trying to fight them. While Custer
was all surrounded, there had been no firing from either side. The Sioux
then made a charge from the rear side, shooting into the men, and the
shooting frightened the horses so that they rushed upon the ridge and many
horses were shot. The return fire was so strong that the Sioux had to
retreat back over the hill again. I left my men there and told them to
hold that position and then I rushed around the hills and came up to the
north end of the field near where the monument now stands. And I saw
hundreds and hundreds of Indians in the coulees all around. The Indians
dismounted and tied their horses in a bunch and got down into the coulees,
shooting at the soldiers from all sides. From the point that juts out
just below where the monument stands about thirty of us got through the
line, firing as we went, and captured a lot of Custer’s horses and drove
them down to the river. The horses were so thirsty that the moment we
reached the river they just stood and drank and drank, and that gave us a
chance to get off our horses and catch hold of the bridles. They were all
loaded with shells and blankets and everything that the soldiers carried
with them. Just then I returned to my men, and the soldiers were still on
the hill fighting, with some of their horses near them. Just as I got
back some of the soldiers made a rush down the ravine toward the river,
and a great roll of smoke seemed to go down the ravine. This retreat of
the soldiers down the ravine was met by the advance of the Indians from
the river, and all who were not killed came back again to the hill. After
the soldiers got back from the hills they made a stand all in a bunch.
Another charge was made and they retreated along the line of the ridge; it
looked like a stampede of buffalo. On this retreat along the ridge, the
soldiers were met by my band of Indians as well as other Sioux. The
soldiers now broke the line and divided, some of them going down the
eastern slope of the hill, and some of them going down to the river. The
others came back to where the final stand was made on the hill, but they
were few in number then. The soldiers then gathered in a group, where the
monument now stands—I visited the monument to-day and confirmed my memory
of it—and then the soldiers and Indians were all mixed up. You could not
tell one from the other. In this final charge I took part and when the
last soldier was killed the smoke rolled up like a mountain above our
heads, and the soldiers were piled one on top of another, dead, and here
and there an Indian among the soldiers. We were so excited during the
battle that we killed our own Indians. I saw one that had been hit across
the head with a war axe, and others had been hit with arrows. After we
were done, we went back to the camp. After the onslaught I did not see
any soldiers scalped, but I saw the Indians piling up their clothes, and
there was shooting all over the hill, for the Indians were looking for the
wounded soldiers and were shooting them dead. Just as I got back to the
camp I heard that a packtrain was coming from over the hills. I looked
over the hills and saw the Sioux and Cheyennes moving that way. I
remained a little while to look after my wife and children. After I had
located my family I fired off my shells and got a new supply of ammunition
and went toward the packtrain. When I got over there the fighting had
begun. The packtrain had already fortified itself by making
entrenchments. The Indians were on the outside firing into it, and the
soldiers inside were firing at the Indians. During this last fight the
sun was getting low. After it grew dark the firing continued; you would
see the flash of the guns in the entrenchments. The Indians would crawl
up and fire a flock of arrows into the entrenchments and then scatter
away. This kept up all night. I did not stay, but went home. The next
morning I went over there and found that the Indians still had the
packtrain surrounded and the fight was still going on. We kept at long
range and continued our firing. The soldiers were all sharpshooters, and
the moment we put our heads up they fired at us and nearly hit us. The
news went around among all the Indians that they were to stay there, and
that all the soldiers in the entrenchment would be so dry soon that they
would have to get out and we would get them. I cannot quite remember, but
I think it was about noon—we held them until then—when news came from our
camp down on the plain that there was a big bunch of soldiers coming up
the river—General Terry with his men. As soon as we heard this we let the
packtrain go and fled back to our camp. We at once broke camp and fled up
the Little Big Horn, or Greasy Creek, as it is called by the Indians. If
it had not been for General Terry coming up as he did we would have had
that packtrain, for they were all dry—they had had no water for two days.
After we had killed Custer and all his men I did not think very much about
it. The soldiers fired into us first and we returned the fire.
Sitting-Bull had talked to us and all the tribes to make a brave fight and
we made it. When we had killed all the soldiers we felt that we had done
our duty, and felt that it was a great battle and not a massacre. With
reference to the real reason for this fight I may say that the talk among
the Indians was that they were going to compel us to stay on the
reservation and take away from us our country. Our purpose was to move
north and go as far north as possible away from the tribes. Our object
was not to fight the Crows or any other tribe, but we learned that the
soldiers were getting after us to try to compel us to go back on the
reservation, and we were trying to get away from them. During the Custer
fight our tents were not attacked, but after the battle the women gathered
up their dead husbands and brothers, and laid them out nicely in the
tepee, and left them. I understand that after we had left the tepees
standing, holding our dead, the soldiers came and burned the tepees.
According to my estimate there were about two thousand able-bodied
warriors engaged in this fight; they were all in good fighting order. The
guns and ammunition that we gathered from the dead soldiers of Custer’s
command put us in better fighting condition than ever before, but the
sentiment ran around among the Indians that we had killed enough, and we
did not want to fight any more. There has been a good deal of dispute
about the number of Indians killed. About the closest estimate that we
can make is that fifty Sioux were killed in the fight, and others died a
short time afterward from their wounds.
[Two Moons as he fought Custer]