Before leaving the Platte I employed two additional interpreters who
were familiar with the Sioux language. Both were white men, but,
following the example of many frontiersmen, they had taken unto
themselves Indian wives, and each had become the head of a considerable
family of half-breeds.
Starting nearly due south from the Platte, and marching up the cañon,
which forms a natural gateway through the otherwise almost impassable
barrier of bluffs and deep ravines bordering the valley of the Platte
river, we again set out in search of Indians. The latter are sought
after so frequently and found so seldom, except when not wanted,
that scouting parties, as a general thing, are not overburdened with
confidence on beginning an expedition. Most of us, however, felt that
we were destined to see Indians--an impression probably due to the fact
that we had determined to accomplish our purpose, if hard riding and
watchfulness could attain this result.
Our first day’s march brought us to a small stream, a tributary of the
Republican river, on whose banks we encamped for the night. Daylight
the following morning found us in the saddle and ascending from the
valley to the table-lands; we were still in the broken country.
On reaching the plateau overlooking the valley we found ourselves
enveloped in a dense fog, so dense that the sky was not visible, nor
was an extended view of the country possible. Had the surface of the
plain been, as usual, level and unbroken, we could have pursued our
march guided by the unerring compass. But deep and impassable cañons
divided the country in all directions and rendered our further progress
impracticable. The sun, however, soon rose high enough to drive away
the mist, and permitted us to proceed on what might be truly termed our
winding way.
The afternoon of the fourth day we reached the forks of the Republican,
and there went into camp. We were then located about seventy-five miles
southeast of Fort Sedgwick, and about the same distance northeast of
Fort Wallace. Intending to scout the surrounding country thoroughly in
search of Indians, we selected our camp with reference to a sojourn of
several days, combining among its essentials wood, water, good grazing,
and last, but not least, facilities for defence.
When I parted from General Sherman the understanding was, that after
beating up the country thoroughly about the forks of the Republican
river, I should march my command to Fort Sedgwick, and there I would
either see General Sherman again or receive further instructions
from him. Circumstances seemed to favor a modification of this plan,
at least as to marching the entire command to Fort Sedgwick. It was
therefore decided to send a trusty officer with a sufficient escort
to Fort Sedgwick with my despatch, and to receive the despatches
which might be intended for me. My proposed, change of programme
contemplated a continuous march, which might be prolonged twenty days
or more. To this end additional supplies were necessary. The guides
all agreed in the statement that we were then about equidistant from
Fort Wallace on the south and Fort Sedgwick on the north, at either
of which the required supplies could be obtained; but that while the
country between our camp and the former was generally level and
unbroken--favorable to the movement of our wagon train--that between
us and Fort Sedgwick was almost impassable for heavily-laden wagons.
The train then was to go to Fort Wallace under sufficient escort, be
loaded with fresh supplies, and rejoin us in camp. At the same time
the officer selected for that mission could proceed to Fort Sedgwick,
obtain his despatch, and return.
Major Joel A. Elliot, a young officer of great courage and enterprise,
was selected as bearer of despatches to Fort Sedgwick. As the errand
was one involving considerable danger, requiring for the round trip a
ride of almost two hundred miles, through a country which was not only
almost unknown but infested by large numbers of hostile Indians, the
Major was authorized to arrange the details in accordance with his own
judgment.
Knowing that small detachments can move more rapidly than large ones,
and that he was to depend upon celerity of movement rather than
strength of numbers to evade the numerous war parties prowling in
that vicinity, the Major limited the size of his escort to ten picked
men and one of the guides, all mounted on fleet horses. To elude the
watchful eyes of any parties that might be noting our movements, it was
deemed advisable to set out from camp as soon as it was dark, and by
making a rapid night ride get beyond the circle of danger. In this way
the little party took its departure on the night of the 23d of June.
On the same day our train of wagons set out for Fort Wallace to
obtain supplies. Colonel West with one full squadron of cavalry was
ordered to escort the train to Beaver Creek, about midway, and there
halt with one of his companies, while the train, under escort of one
company commanded by Lieutenant Robbins, should proceed to the fort and
return--Colonel West to employ the interval in scouting up and down
Beaver Creek. The train was under the special management of Colonel
Cook, who on this occasion was acting in the capacity of a staff
officer.
While at Fort McPherson, and when under the impression that my
command upon arriving at Fort Wallace, after terminating the scouting
expedition we were then engaged upon, would remain in camp for several
weeks, I wrote to my wife at Fort Hays, advising her to meet me at Fort
Wallace, provided that travel between the two posts was considered
safe. I expected her to reach Fort Wallace before the arrival of the
train and escort from my camp, and under this impression I sent a
letter to her by Colonel Cook, asking her to come to our camp on the
Republican under escort of the Colonel, who was an intimate friend of
the family. I am thus minute in giving these details, in order that the
events of the succeeding few days may appear in their proper light.
After the departure of the two detachments, which left us in almost
opposite directions, our camp settled down to the dull and unexciting
monotony of waiting patiently for the time when we should welcome our
comrades back again, and listen to such items of news as they might
bring to us.
Little did we imagine that the monotony of idleness was so soon and so
abruptly to be broken. That night our pickets were posted as usual; the
horses and mules, after being allowed to graze in the evening, were
brought in and securely tethered close to our tents, and the “stable
guards” of the different troops had been assigned to their stations for
the night. At half-past eight the bugler at headquarters sounded the
signal for “taps,” and before the last note had died away every light,
in obedience to this command, disappeared, and nothing remained to the
eye, except here and there a faint glimpse of a white tent, to indicate
the presence of our camp.
It was just that uncertain period between darkness and daylight on the
following morning, and I was lying in my tent deep in the enjoyment
of that perfect repose which only camp life offers, when the sharp,
clear crack of a carbine near by brought me to my feet. I knew in an
instant that the shot came from the picket posted not far from the
rear of my camp. At the same moment my brother, Colonel Custer, who on
that occasion was officer of the day, and whose duties required him to
be particularly on the alert, rushed past my tent, halting only long
enough to show his face through the opening and shout, “They are here!”
Now I did not inquire who were referred to, or how many were included
in the word “they,” nor did my informant seem to think it necessary
to explain. “They” referred to Indians, I knew full well. Had I
doubted, the brisk fusillade which opened the next moment, and the wild
war-whoop, were convincing evidences that in truth “they were here!”
Ordinarily, I must confess to having sufficient regard for the customs
and courtesies of life to endeavor to appear in society suitably and
appropriately dressed. But when the alarm of “Indians” was given, and
in such a startling manner as to show they were almost in our midst,
the question was not “What shall I wear?” but “What shall I do?” It
has become so common--in fact, almost a law--to describe the costumes
worn upon memorable occasions, that I may be pardoned if I indulge in
a description which I will endeavor to make as brief as the costume
itself. A modern Jenkins, if desiring to tell the truth, would probably
express himself as follows: “General Custer on this occasion appeared
in a beautiful crimson robe (red flannel _robe de nuit_), very becoming
to his complexion. His hair was worn _au naturel_, and permitted to
fall carelessly over his shoulders. In his hand he carried gracefully
a handsome Spencer rifle. It is unnecessary to add that he became the
observed of all observers.”
My orderly, as was his custom, on my retiring had securely tied all the
fastenings to my tent, and it was usually the work of several minutes
to undo this unnecessary labor. I had no time to throw away in this
manner. Leaping from my bed, I grasped my trusty Spencer, which was
always at my side whether waking or sleeping, and with a single dash
burst open the tent, and, hatless as well as shoeless, ran to the point
where the attack seemed to be concentrated.
It was sufficiently light to see our enemies and be seen. The first
shot had brought every man of my command from his tent, armed and
equipped for battle. The Indians, numbering hundreds, were all around
the camp, evidently intending to surround us, while a party of about
fifty of their best mounted warriors had, by taking advantage of a
ravine, contrived to approach quite close before being discovered. It
was the intention of this party to dash through our camp, stampede all
our horses, which were to be caught up by the parties surrounding us,
and then finish us at their leisure.
The picket, however, discovered the approach of this party, and by
firing gave timely warning, thus frustrating the plan of the Indians,
who almost invariably base their hopes of success upon effecting a
surprise.
My men opened on them such a brisk fire from their carbines that they
were glad to withdraw beyond range. The picket who gave the alarm was
shot down at his post by the Indians, the entire party galloping over
his body, and being prevented from scalping him only by the fire from
his comrades, who dashed out and recovered him. He was found to be
badly though not mortally wounded by a rifle ball through the body.
The Indians, seeing that their attempt to surprise us and to stampede
our horses had failed, then withdrew to a point but little over a mile
from us, where they congregated, and seemed to hold a conference with
each other. We did not fear any further attack at this time. They were
satisfied with this attempt, and would await another opportunity.
It was desirable, however, that we should learn if possible to what
tribe our enemies belonged. I directed one of our interpreters to
advance midway between our camp and the Indians, and make the signal
for holding a parley, and in this way ascertain who were the principal
chiefs.
The ordinary manner of opening communication with parties known or
supposed to be hostile, is to ride toward them in a zigzag manner or
to ride in a circle. The interpreter gave the proper signal, and was
soon answered by a small party advancing from the main body of the
Indians to within hailing distance. It was then agreed that I, with
six of the officers, should come to the bank of the river, which was
about equidistant from my camp and from the point where the Indians had
congregated, and there be met by an equal number of the leading chiefs.
To guard against treachery, I placed most of my command under arms and
arranged with the officer left in command that a blast from the bugle
should bring assistance to me if required.
Six of the officers and myself, taking with us a bugler and an
interpreter, proceeded on horseback to the designated point.
Dismounting, we left our horses in charge of the bugler, who was
instructed to watch every movement of the Indians, and upon the first
appearance of violence or treachery to sound the “advance.” Each of us
took our revolvers from their leather cases and stuck them loosely in
our belts.
Descending to the river bank, we awaited the arrival of the seven
chiefs. On one side of the river the bank was level and covered with
a beautiful green sward, while on the opposite side it was broken and
thickly covered by willows and tall grass. The river itself was at
this season of the year, and at this distance from its mouth, scarcely
deserving of the name. The seven chiefs soon made their appearance on
its opposite bank, and, after removing their leggings, waded across to
where we stood. Imagine our surprise at recognizing as the head chief
Pawnee Killer, our friend of the conference of the Platte, who on that
occasion had overwhelmed us with the earnestness of his professions of
peace, and who, after partaking of our hospitality under the guise of
friendship, and leaving our camp laden with provisions and presents,
returned to attack and murder us within a fortnight. This, too, without
the slightest provocation, for surely we had not trespassed against
any right of theirs since the exchange of friendly greetings near Fort
McPherson.
Pawnee Killer and his chiefs met us as if they were quite willing
to forgive us for interfering with the success of their intended
surprise of our camp in the morning. I avoided all reference to what
had occurred, desiring if possible to learn the locality of their
village and their future movements. All attempts, however, to elicit
information on these points were skilfully parried. The chiefs in turn
were anxious to know our plans, but we declined to gratify them. Upon
crossing to our side of the river, Pawnee Killer and his companions
at once extended their hands, and saluted us with the familiar “How.”
Suspicious of their intentions, I kept one hand on my revolver during
the continuance of our interview.
When we had about concluded our conference a young brave, completely
armed, as were all the chiefs, emerged from the willows and tall grass
on the opposite bank and waded across to where we were, greeting us
as the others had done. Nothing was thought of this act until a few
moments after another brave did the same, and so on until four had
crossed over and joined our group. I then called Pawnee Killer’s
attention to the conditions under which we met, and told him he was
violating his part of the contract. He endeavored to turn it off by
saying that his young men felt well disposed toward us, and came over
only to shake hands and say “How.” He was told, however, that no more
of his men must come. The conversation was then resumed and continued
until another party of the warriors was seen preparing to cross from
the other side. The conduct of these Indians in the morning, added to
our opinions in general as regards treachery, convinced us that it
would be in the highest degree imprudent to trust ourselves in their
power. They already outnumbered us, eleven to seven, which were as
heavy odds as we felt disposed to give. We all felt convinced that the
coming over of these warriors, one by one, was but the execution of
a preconceived plan whereof we were to become the victims as soon as
their advantage in numbers should justify them in attacking us.
Again reminding Pawnee Killer of the stipulations of our agreement, and
that while we had observed ours faithfully, he had disregarded his,
I told him that not another warrior of his should cross the river to
our side. And calling his attention to the bugler, who stood at a safe
distance from us, I told him that I would then instruct the bugler to
watch the Indians who were upon the opposite bank, and, upon any of
them making a movement as if to cross, to sound the signal which would
bring my entire command to my side in a few moments. This satisfied
Pawnee Killer that any further attempt to play us false would only end
in his own discomfiture. He at once signalled to the Indians on the
other side to remain where they were.
Nothing definite could be gleaned from the replies of Pawnee Killer.
I was satisfied that he and his tribe were contemplating mischief.
Their previous declarations of peaceful intent went for naught.
Their attack on our camp in the morning proved what they would do if
able to accomplish their purpose. I was extremely anxious, however,
to detain the chiefs near my camp, or induce them to locate their
village near us, and keep up the semblance at least of friendship.
I was particularly prompted to this desire by the fact that the
two detachments which had left my command the previous day would
necessarily continue absent several days, and I feared that they might
become the victims of an attack from this band if steps were not taken
to prevent it. Our anxiety was greatest regarding Major Elliot and his
little party of eleven. Our only hope was that the Indians had not
become aware of their departure. It was fortunate that the Major had
chosen night as the most favorable time for setting out. As to the
detachment that had gone with the train to Fort Wallace we felt less
anxious, it being sufficiently powerful in numbers to defend itself,
unless attacked after the detachment became divided at Beaver Creek.
Finding all efforts to induce Pawnee Killer to remain with us
unavailing, I told him that we would march to his village with him.
This did not seem satisfactory.
Before terminating our interview, the chiefs requested me to make
them presents of some sugar, coffee, and ammunition. Remembering the
use they had made of the latter article in the morning, it will not
appear strange if I declined to gratify them. Seeing that nothing was
to be gained by prolonging the interview, we separated, the officers
returning to our camp, and the Indians recrossing the river, mounting
their ponies, and galloping off to the main body, which was then nearly
two miles distant.
My command was in readiness to leap into their saddles, and I
determined to attempt to follow the Indians, and, if possible, get near
their village. They were prepared for this move on our part, and the
moment we advanced toward them set off at the top of their speed. We
followed as rapidly as our heavier horses could travel, but the speed
of the Indian pony on this occasion, as on many others, was too great
for that of our horses. A pursuit of a few hours proved our inability
to overtake them, and we returned to camp.
Soon after arriving at camp a small party of Indians was reported
in sight in a different direction. Captain Louis Hamilton, a lineal
descendant of Alexander Hamilton, was immediately ordered to take his
troop and learn something of their intentions. The Indians resorted
to their usual tactics. There were not more than half a dozen to be
seen--not enough to appear formidable. These were there as a decoy.
Captain Hamilton marched his troop toward the hill on which the Indians
had made their appearance, but on arriving at its crest found that
they had retired to the next ridge beyond. This manœuvre was repeated
several times, until the cavalry found itself several miles from camp.
The Indians then appeared to separate into two parties, each going
in different directions. Captain Hamilton divided his troop into two
detachments, sending one detachment, under command of my brother, after
one of the parties, while he with twenty-five men continued to follow
the other.
When the two detachments had become so far separated as to be of no
assistance to each other, the Indians developed their scheme. Suddenly
dashing from a ravine, as if springing from the earth, forty-three
Indian warriors burst out upon the cavalry, letting fly their
arrows and filling the air with their wild war-whoops. Fortunately
Captain Hamilton was an officer of great presence of mind as well
as undaunted courage. The Indians began circling about the troops,
throwing themselves upon the sides of their ponies and aiming their
carbines and arrows over the necks of their well-trained war-steeds.
Captain Hamilton formed his men in order to defend themselves against
the assaults of their active enemies. The Indians displayed unusual
boldness, sometimes dashing close up to the cavalry and sending in a
perfect shower of bullets and arrows. Fortunately their aim, riding as
they did at full speed, was necessarily inaccurate.
All this time we who had remained in camp were in ignorance of what
was transpiring. Dr. Coates, whose acquaintance has been made before,
had accompanied Captain Hamilton’s command, but when the latter was
divided the doctor joined the detachment of my brother. In some
unexplained manner the doctor became separated from both parties, and
remained so until the sound of the firing attracted him toward Captain
Hamilton’s party. When within half a mile of the latter, he saw what
was transpiring; saw our men in the centre and the Indians charging
and firing from the outside. His first impulse was to push on and
endeavor to break through the line of savages, casting his lot with his
struggling comrades. This impulse was suddenly nipped in the bud. The
Indians, with their quick, watchful eyes, had discovered his presence,
and half a dozen of them best mounted warriors at once galloped toward
him.
Happily the doctor was in the direction of camp from Captain Hamilton’s
party, and, comprehending the peril of his situation at a glance,
turned his horse’s head toward camp, and applying the spur freely
set out on a ride for life. The Indians saw this move, but were not
disposed to be deprived of their victim in this way. They were better
mounted than the doctor, his only advantage being in the start and the
greater object to be attained. When the race began he was fully four
miles from camp, the day was hot and sultry, the country rough and
broken, and his horse somewhat jaded from the effects of the ride in
the morning. These must have seemed immense obstacles in the eyes of
a man who was riding for dear life. A false step, a broken girth, or
almost any trifle, might decide his fate.
How often, if ever, the doctor looked back, I know not; his eyes more
probably were strained to catch a glimpse of camp or of assistance
accidentally coming to his relief. Neither the one nor the other
appeared. His pursuers, knowing that their success must be gained soon
if at all, pressed their fleet ponies forward until they seemed to skim
over the surface of the green plain, and their shouts of exultation
falling clearer and louder upon his ear told the doctor that they
were surely gaining upon him. Fortunately our domestic horses, until
accustomed to their presence, are as terrified by Indians as by a huge
wild beast, and will fly from them if not restrained. The yells of the
approaching Indians served no doubt to quicken the energies of the
doctor’s horse, and impelled him to greater efforts to escape.
So close had the Indians succeeded in approaching that they were
almost within arrow range, and would soon have sent one flying through
the doctor’s body, when, to the great joy of the pursued and the
corresponding grief of his pursuers, camp suddenly appeared in full
view scarcely a mile distant. The ponies of the Indians had been ridden
too hard to justify their riders in venturing near enough to provoke
pursuit upon fresh animals. Sending a parting volley of bullets after
the flying doctor, they turned about and disappeared. The doctor did
not slacken his pace on this account, however; he knew that Captain
Hamilton’s party was in peril, and that assistance should reach him
as soon as possible. Without tightening rein or sparing spur, he came
dashing into camp, and the first we knew of his presence he had thrown
himself from his almost breathless horse, and was lying on the ground
unable, from sheer exhaustion and excitement, to utter a word.
The officers and men gathered about him in astonishment, eager and
anxious to hear his story, for all knew that something far from any
ordinary event had transpired to place the doctor in such a condition
of mind and body. As soon as he had recovered sufficiently to speak,
he told us that he had left Captain Hamilton surrounded by a superior
force of Indians, and that he himself had been pursued almost to the
borders of camp.
This was enough. The next moment the bugle rang out the signal “To
horse,” and in less time than would be required to describe it, horses
were saddled and arms ready. Then “there was mounting in hot haste.” A
moment later the command set off at a brisk trot to attempt the rescue
of their beleaguered comrades.
Persons unfamiliar with the cavalry service may mentally inquire why,
in such an emergency as this, the intended reinforcements were not
pushed forward at a rapid gallop? But in answer to this it need only
be said that we had a ride of at least five miles before us in order
to arrive at the point where Captain Hamilton and his command had last
been seen, and it was absolutely necessary to so husband the powers of
our horses as to save them for the real work of conflict.
We had advanced in this manner probably two miles, when, we discerned
in the distance the approach of Captain Hamilton’s party. They were
returning leisurely to camp, after having succeeded in driving off
their assailants and inflicting upon them a loss of two warriors killed
and several wounded. The Indians could only boast of having wounded a
horse belonging to Captain Hamilton’s party.
This encounter with the Indians occurred in the direction taken by
Major Elliot’s detachment on leaving camp, and the Indians, after this
repulse by Captain Hamilton, withdrew in that direction. This added to
our anxiety concerning the safety of Major Elliot and his men. There
was no doubt now that all Indians infesting the broad belt of country
between the Arkansas and Platte rivers were on the war path, and would
seek revenge from any party so unfortunate as to fall in their way.
The loss of the two warriors slain in the fight, and their wounded
comrades, would be additional incentives to acts of hostility. If there
had been any possible means of communicating with Major Elliot, and
either strengthening or warning him, it would have been done. He left
us by no travelled or defined route, and it was by no means probable
that he would pass over the same trail in coming from Fort Sedgwick as
in going to that point; otherwise reinforcements could have been sent
out over his trail to meet him.
On the 27th our fears for the safety of the Major and his escort were
dispelled by their safe return to camp, having accomplished a ride of
nearly two hundred miles through an enemy’s country. They had concealed
themselves in ravines during the daytime and travelled at night,
trusting to the faithful compass and their guide to bring them safely
back.
Now that the Major and his party had returned to us, our anxiety became
centred in the fate of the larger party which had proceeded with the
train to Fort Wallace for supplies. The fact that Major Elliot had made
his trip unmolested by Indians, proved that the latter were most likely
assembled south of us, that is, between us and Fort Wallace. Wherever
they were, their numbers were known to be large. It would be impossible
for a considerable force, let alone a wagon train, to pass from our
camp to Fort Wallace and not be seen by the Indian scouting parties.
They had probably observed the departure of the train and escort at
the time, and, divining the object which occasioned the sending of
the wagons, would permit them to go to the fort unmolested, but would
waylay them on their return, in the hope of obtaining the supplies they
contained. Under this supposition the Indians had probably watched the
train and escort during every mile of their progress; if so, they would
not fail to discover that the larger portion of the escort halted at
Beaver Creek, while the wagons proceeded to the fort guarded by only
forty-eight men; in which case the Indians would combine their forces
and attack the train at some point between Fort Wallace and Beaver
Creek.
Looking at these probable events, I not only felt impelled to act
promptly to secure the safety of the train and its escort, but a deeper
and stronger motive stirred me to leave nothing undone to circumvent
the Indians. My wife, who, in answer to my letter, I believed was
then at Fort Wallace, would place herself under the protection of the
escort of the train and attempt to rejoin me in camp. The mere thought
of the danger to which she might be exposed spurred me to decisive
action. One full squadron, well mounted and armed, under command of
Lieutenant-Colonel Myers, an officer of great experience in Indian
affairs, left our camp at dark on the evening of the day that Captain
Hamilton had had his engagement with the Indians, and set out in the
direction of Fort Wallace. His orders were to press forward as rapidly
as practicable, following the trail made by the train. Written orders
were sent in his care to Colonel West, who was in command of that
portion of the escort which had halted at Beaver Creek, to join Colonel
Myers’s command with his own, and then to continue the march toward
Fort Wallace until he should meet the returning train and escort. The
Indians, however, were not to be deprived of this opportunity to secure
scalps and plunder.
From our camp to Beaver Creek was nearly fifty miles. Colonel Myers
marched his command without halting until he joined Colonel West at
Beaver Creek. Here the two commands united, and under the direction
of Colonel West, the senior officer of the party, proceeded toward
Fort Wallace, following the trail left by the wagon train and escort.
If the escort and Colonel West’s forces could be united, they might
confidently hope to repel any attack made upon them by Indians. Colonel
West was an old Indian fighter, and too thoroughly accustomed to Indian
tactics to permit his command to be surprised or defeated in any manner
other than by a fair contest.
Let us leave them for a time and join the wagon train and its
escort--the latter numbering, all told, as before stated, forty-eight
men under the immediate command of Lieutenant Robbins. Colonel Cook,
whose special duty connected him with the train and its supplies, could
also be relied upon for material assistance with the troops, in case of
actual conflict with the enemy. Comstock, the favorite scout, a host
in himself, was sent to guide the party to and from Fort Wallace. In
addition to these were the teamsters, who could not be expected to do
more than control their teams should the train be attacked.
The march from camp to Beaver Creek was made without incident. Here
the combined forces of Colonel West and Lieutenant Robbins encamped
together during the night. Next morning at early dawn Lieutenant
Robbins’s party, having the train in charge, continued the march toward
Fort Wallace, while Colonel West sent out scouting parties up and down
the stream to search for Indians.
As yet none of their party were aware of the hostile attitude
assumed by the Indians within the past few hours, and Colonel West’s
instructions contemplated a friendly meeting between his forces and the
Indians should the latter be discovered. The march of the train and
escort was made to Fort Wallace without interruption. The only incident
worthy of remark was an observation of Comstock’s, which proved how
thoroughly he was familiar with the Indian and his customs.
The escort was moving over a beautifully level plateau. Not a mound
or hillock disturbed the evenness of the surface for miles in either
direction. To an unpractised eye there seemed no recess or obstruction
in or behind which an enemy might be concealed, but everything appeared
open to the view for miles and miles, look in what direction one might.
Yet such was not the case. Ravines of greater or less extent, though
not perceptible at a glance, might have been discovered if searched
for, extending almost to the trail over which the party was moving.
These ravines, if followed, would be found to grow deeper and deeper,
until, after running their course for an indefinite extent, they would
terminate in the valley of some running stream. These were the natural
hiding-places of Indian war parties, waiting their opportunities to
dash upon unsuspecting victims. These ravines serve the same purpose
to the Indians of the timberless plains that the ambush did to those
Indians of the Eastern States accustomed to fighting in the forests
and everglades. Comstock’s keen eyes took in all at a glance, and he
remarked to Colonel Cook and Lieutenant Robbins, as the three rode
together at the head of the column, that “If the Injuns strike us at
all, it will be just about the time we are comin’ along back over this
very spot. Now mind what I tell ye all.” We shall see how correct
Comstock’s prophecy was.
Arriving at the fort, no time was lost in loading up the wagons with
fresh supplies, obtaining the mail intended for the command, and
preparing to set out on the return to camp the following day. No
late news regarding Indian movements was obtained. Fortunately, my
letter from Fort McPherson to Mrs. Custer, asking her to come to Fort
Wallace, miscarried, and she did not undertake a journey which in all
probability would have imperilled her life, if not terminated it in a
most tragic manner.
On the following morning Colonel Cook and Lieutenant Robbins began
their return march. They had advanced one half the distance which
separated them from Colonel West’s camp without the slightest
occurrence to disturb the monotony of their march, and had reached
the point where, on passing before, Comstock had indulged in his
prognostication regarding Indians; yet nothing had been seen to excite
suspicion or alarm.
Comstock, always on the alert and with eyes as quick as those of an
Indian, had been scanning the horizon in all directions. Suddenly he
perceived, or thought he perceived, strange figures, resembling human
heads, peering over the crest of a hill far away to the right. Hastily
levelling his field-glass, he pronounced the strange figures, which
were scarcely perceptible, to be neither more nor less than Indians.
The officers brought into requisition their glasses, and were soon
convinced of the correctness of Comstock’s report. It was some time
before the Indians perceived that they were discovered. Concealment
then being no longer possible, they boldly rode to the crest and
exposed themselves to full view. At first but twenty or thirty made
their appearance; gradually their number became augmented, until about
a hundred warriors could be seen.
It may readily be imagined that the appearance of so considerable
a body of Indians produced no little excitement and speculation in
the minds of the people with the train. The speculation was as to
the intentions of the Indians, whether hostile or friendly. Upon
this subject all doubts were soon dispelled. The Indians continued
to receive accessions to their numbers, the reinforcements coming
from beyond the crest of the hill on which their presence was first
discovered. Finally, seeming confident in their superior numbers, the
warriors, all of whom were mounted, advanced leisurely down the slope
leading in the direction of the train and its escort. By the aid of
field-glasses, Comstock and the two officers were able to determine
fully the character of the party now approaching them. The last doubt
was thus removed. It was clearly to be seen that the Indians were
arrayed in full war costume, their heads adorned by the brilliantly
colored war bonnets, their faces, arms, and bodies painted in various
colors, rendering their naturally repulsive appearance even more
hideous. As they approached nearer they assumed a certain order in
the manner of their advance. Some were to be seen carrying the long
glistening lance with its pennant of bright colors; while upon the
left arm hung the round shield, almost bullet-proof, and ornamented
with paint and feathers according to the taste of the wearer. Nearly
all were armed with carbines and one or two revolvers, while many in
addition to these weapons carried the bow and arrow.
[Illustration: THE ATTACK UPON THE TRAIN.]
When the entire band had defiled down the inclined slope, Comstock
and the officers were able to estimate roughly the full strength of
the party. They were astonished to perceive that between six and
seven hundred warriors were bearing down upon them, and in a few
minutes would undoubtedly commence the attack. Against such odds, and
upon ground so favorable for the Indian mode of warfare, it seemed
unreasonable to hope for a favorable result. Yet the entire escort,
officers and men, entered upon their defence with the determination to
sell their lives as dearly as possible.
As the coming engagement, so far as the cavalry was concerned, was
to be purely a defensive one, Lieutenant Robbins at once set about
preparing to receive his unwelcome visitors. Colonel Cook formed the
train in two parallel columns, leaving ample space between for the
horses of the cavalry. Lieutenant Robbins then dismounted his men and
prepared to fight on foot. The led horses, under charge of the fourth
trooper, were placed between the two columns of wagons, and were thus
in a measure protected from the assaults which the officers had every
reason to believe would be made for their capture. The dismounted
cavalrymen were thus formed in a regular circle enclosing the train
and horses. Colonel Cook took command of one flank, Lieutenant Robbins
of the other, while Comstock, who as well as the two officers remained
mounted, galloped from point to point wherever his presence was most
valuable. These dispositions being perfected, the march was resumed in
this order, and the attack of the savages calmly awaited.
The Indians, who were interested spectators of these preparations for
their reception, continued to approach, but seemed willing to delay
their attack until the plain became a little more favorable for their
operations. Finally, the desired moment seemed to have arrived. The
Indians had approached to within easy range, yet not a shot had been
fired, the cavalrymen having been instructed by their officers to
reserve their fire for close quarters. Suddenly, with a wild ringing
war-whoop, the entire band of warriors bore down upon the train and its
little party of defenders.
On came the savages, filling the air with their terrible yells. Their
first object, evidently, was to stampede the horses and draught
animals of the train; then, in the excitement and consternation which
would follow, to massacre the escort and drivers. The wagon-master in
immediate charge of the train had been ordered to keep his two columns
of wagons constantly moving forward and well closed up. This last
injunction was hardly necessary, as the frightened teamsters, glancing
at the approaching warriors and hearing their savage shouts, were
sufficiently anxious to keep well closed upon their leaders.
The first onslaught of the Indians was made on the flank which was
superintended by Colonel Cook. They rode boldly forward as if to dash
over the mere handful of cavalrymen, who stood in skirmishing order
in a circle about the train. Not a soldier faltered as the enemy came
thundering upon them, but waiting until the Indians were within short
rifle range of the train, the cavalrymen dropped upon their knees, and
taking deliberate aim poured a volley from their Spencer carbines into
the ranks of the savages, which seemed to put a sudden check upon the
ardor of their movements and forced them to wheel off to the right.
Several of the warriors were seen to reel in their saddles, while the
ponies of others were brought down or wounded by the effectual fire of
the cavalrymen.
Those of the savages who were shot from their saddles were scarcely
permitted to fall to the ground before a score or more of their
comrades dashed to their rescue and bore their bodies beyond the
possible reach of our men. This is in accordance with the Indian custom
in battle. They will risk the lives of a dozen of their best warriors
to prevent the body of any one of their number from falling into the
white man’s possession. The reason for this is the belief, which
generally prevails among all the tribes, that if a warrior loses his
scalp he forfeits his hope of ever reaching the happy hunting-ground.
As the Indians were being driven back by the well-directed volley of
the cavalrymen, the latter, overjoyed at their first success, became
reassured, and sent up a cheer of exultation, while Comstock, who had
not been idle in the fight, called out to the retreating Indians in
their native tongue, taunting them with their unsuccessful assault.
The Indians withdrew to a point beyond the range of our carbines, and
there seemed to engage in a parley. Comstock, who had closely watched
every movement, remarked that “There’s no sich good luck for us as to
think them Injuns mean to give it up so. Six hundred red devils ain’t
agoin’ to let fifty men stop them from gettin’ at the coffee and sugar
that is in these wagons. And they ain’t agoin’ to be satisfied until
they get some of our scalps to pay for the bucks we popped out of their
saddles a bit ago.”
It was probable that the Indians were satisfied that they could not
dash through the train and stampede the animals. Their recent attempt
had convinced them that some other method of attack must be resorted
to. Nothing but their greater superiority in numbers had induced them
to risk so much in a charge.
The officers passed along the line of skirmishers--for this in reality
was all their line consisted of--and cautioned the men against wasting
their ammunition. It was yet early in the afternoon, and should the
conflict be prolonged until night, there was great danger of exhausting
the supply of ammunition. The Indians seemed to have thought of this,
and the change in their method of attack encouraged such a result.
But little time was spent at the parley. Again the entire band of
warriors, except those already disabled, prepared to renew the attack,
and advanced as before--this time, however, with greater caution,
evidently desiring to avoid a reception similar to the first. When
sufficiently near to the troops the Indians developed their new plan
of attack. It was not to advance _en masse_, as before, but fight
as individuals, each warrior selecting his own time and method of
attack. This is the habitual manner of fighting among all Indians
of the Plains, and is termed “circling.” First the chiefs led off,
followed at regular intervals by the warriors, until the entire six
or seven hundred were to be seen riding in single file as rapidly as
their fleet-footed ponies could carry them. Preserving this order,
and keeping up their savage chorus of yells, war-whoops, and taunting
epithets, this long line of mounted barbarians was guided in such
manner as to envelop the train and escort, and make the latter appear
like a small circle within a larger one.
The Indians gradually contracted their circle, although maintaining
the full speed of their ponies, until sufficiently close to open fire
upon the soldiers. At first the shots were scattering and wide of
their mark; but, emboldened by the silence of their few but determined
opponents, they rode nearer and fought with greater impetuosity.
Forced now to defend themselves to the uttermost, the cavalrymen opened
fire from their carbines, with most gratifying results. The Indians,
however, moving at such a rapid gait and in single file, presented
a most uncertain target. To add to this uncertainty, the savages
availed themselves of their superior--almost marvellous--powers of
horsemanship. Throwing themselves upon the sides of their well-trained
ponies, they left no part of their persons exposed to the aim of the
troopers except the head and one foot, and in this posture they were
able to aim the weapons either over or under the necks of their ponies,
thus using the bodies of the latter as an effective shield against the
bullets of their adversaries.
At no time were the Indians able to force the train and its escort to
come to a halt. The march was continued at an uninterrupted gait. This
successful defence against the Indians was in a great measure due to
the presence of the wagons, which, arranged in the order described,
formed a complete barrier to the charges and assaults of the savages;
and, as a last resort, the wagons could have been halted and used as
a breastwork, behind which the cavalry, dismounted, would have been
almost invincible against their more numerous enemies. There is nothing
an Indian dislikes more in warfare than to attack a foe, however weak,
behind breastworks of any kind. Any contrivance which is an obstacle to
his pony is a most serious obstacle to the warrior.
The attack of the Indians, aggravated by their losses in warriors and
ponies, as many of the latter had been shot down, was continued without
cessation for three hours. The supply of ammunition of the cavalry
was running low. The “fourth troopers,” who had remained in charge of
the led horses between the two columns of wagons, were now replaced
from the skirmishers, and the former were added to the list of active
combatants. If the Indians should maintain the fight much longer, there
was serious ground for apprehension regarding the limited supply of
ammunition.
If only night or reinforcements would come! was the prayerful hope
of those who contended so gallantly against such heavy odds. Night
was still too far off to promise much encouragement; while as to
reinforcements, their coming would be purely accidental--at least so
argued those most interested in their arrival. Yet reinforcements were
at that moment striving to reach them. Comrades were in the saddle and
spurring forward to their relief. The Indians, although apparently
turning all their attention to the little band inside, had omitted
no precaution to guard against interference from outside parties. In
this instance, perhaps, they were more than ordinarily watchful, and
had posted some of their keen-eyed warriors on the high line of bluffs
which ran almost parallel to the trail over which the combatants moved.
From these bluffs not only a good view of the fight could be obtained,
but the country for miles in either direction was spread out beneath
them, and enabled the scouts to discern the approach of any hostile
party which might be advancing. Fortunate for the savages that this
precaution had not been neglected, or the contest in which they were
engaged might have become one of more equal numbers. To the careless
eye nothing could have been seen to excite suspicion. But the warriors
on the lookout were not long in discovering something which occasioned
them no little anxiety. Dismounting from their ponies and concealing
the latter in a ravine, they prepared to investigate more fully the
cause of their alarm.
That which they saw was as yet but a faint dark line on the surface
of the plain, almost against the horizon. So faint was it that no
one but an Indian or practised frontiersman would have observed
it. It was fully ten miles from them and directly in their line of
march. The ordinary observer would have pronounced it a break or
irregularity in the ground, or perhaps the shadow of a cloud, and
its apparent permanency of location would have dispelled any fear as
to its dangerous character. But was it stationary? Apparently, yes.
The Indians discovered otherwise. By close watching, the long faint
line could be seen moving along, as if creeping stealthily upon an
unconscious foe. Slowly it assumed a more definite shape, until what
appeared to be a mere stationary dark line drawn upon the green surface
of the plain, developed itself to the searching eyes of the red man
into a column of cavalry moving at a rapid gait toward the very point
they were then occupying.
Convinced of this fact, one of the scouts leaped upon his pony and
flew with almost the speed of the wind to impart this knowledge to the
chiefs in command on the plain below. True, the approaching cavalry,
being still several miles distant, could not arrive for nearly two
hours; but the question to be considered by the Indians was, whether it
would be prudent for them to continue their attack on the train--their
ponies already becoming exhausted by the three hours’ hard riding
given them--until the arrival of the fresh detachment of the enemy,
whose horses might be in condition favorable to a rapid pursuit, and
thereby enable them to overtake those of the Indians whose ponies were
exhausted. Unwilling to incur this new risk, and seeing no prospect of
overcoming their present adversaries by a sudden or combined dash, the
chiefs decided to withdraw from the attack, and make their escape while
the advantage was yet in their favor.
The surprise of the cavalrymen may be imagined at seeing the Indians,
after pouring a shower of bullets and arrows into the train, withdraw
to the bluffs, and immediately after continue their retreat until lost
to view.
This victory for the troopers, although so unexpected, was none the
less welcome. The Indians contrived to carry away with them their
killed and wounded. Five of their bravest warriors were known to have
been sent to the happy hunting-ground, while the list of their wounded
was much larger.
After the Indians had withdrawn and left the cavalrymen masters of the
field, our wounded, of whom there were comparatively few, received
every possible care and attention. Those of the detachment who had
escaped unharmed were busily engaged in exchanging congratulations and
relating incidents of the fight.
In this manner nearly an hour had been whiled away, when far in the
distance, in their immediate front, fresh cause for anxiety was
discovered. At first the general opinion was that it was the Indians
again, determined to contest their progress. Field-glasses were again
called into requisition, and revealed, not Indians, but the familiar
blue blouses of the cavalry. Never was the sight more welcome. The next
moment Colonel Cook, with Comstock and a few troopers, applied spurs to
their horses and were soon dashing forward to meet their comrades.
The approaching party was none other than Colonel West’s detachment,
hastening to the relief of the train and its gallant little escort. A
few words explained all, and told the heroes of the recent fight how it
happened that reinforcements were sent to their assistance; and then
was explained why the Indians had so suddenly concluded to abandon
their attack and seek safety in quietly withdrawing from the field.