unquestionably participated in the battle of the Rosebud (as the
action is sometimes called), is said to have related that he killed
Gen. Custer, thus avenging himself for the indignity put upon himself
by the General's brother Tom, so long before. In all probability the
story was made out of "whole cloth" by a certain New York newspaper
correspondent, in whose journal it first appeared. I knew him well,
and his reputation for unexaggerated truth was far from being as
orthodox as he of the cherry-tree fame. Because it had a plausibility
about it, and was highly sensational, the statement was accepted by
the general public, or those who were not familiar with the methods of
the North-American savage. No doubt Rain-in-the-face did, as would all
Indians, treasure up such a grievance as that of having been insulted
by a blow from a white man; but the circumstances of the battle of the
Little Big Horn in all its horrors, so far as it is possible to know
them, preclude the possibility of Sitting Bull permitting a subordinate
chief, as was Rain-in-the-face, to arrogate to himself the right of
revenge in the case of such a noted "white warrior" as Custer. If by
any probability Rain-in-the-face did kill Custer, he certainly would
have scalped him and mutilated his body. Custer was not scalped, nor
was his person at all abused; and the reason generally given for this
immunity from the common custom of savage warfare is, that the Indians
had such a profound admiration for his wonderful bravery that they
spared the great "white warrior" that humiliation. This is the weakest
point of the whole argument--for the greater the man in the savages'
estimation, the more eager would they be to secure his scalp.
[Illustration: SITTING BULL]
My own theory is--and the fact that Custer was not scalped or mutilated
is not the only confirmation of it--that the General killed himself
to escape the horrible torture that awaited him should he be captured
alive. His capture was what Sitting Bull had undoubtedly determined
upon, the moment he saw the tide of battle unmistakably turning in his
favor.
Custer was known to all the Plains tribes; he had given them ample
cause to remember him, and these savages would never have allowed an
opportunity to capture him alive to be defeated by permitting some
aggrieved chief to kill him in order to gratify a personal revenge--the
game was too big. The Indians called Custer the "Crawling Panther,"
because he usually fell upon them with his troopers as stealthily as
does that animal upon its prey.
To those unacquainted with the methods of the American savage of the
Great Plains, the statement that suicide would be infinitely preferable
to the chances for life after having been captured by the Indians,
may seem overdrawn, and wicked to be thought of. But if they had
seen, as I have, the remains of men, women and innocent babes horribly
mutilated, burnt, butchered, and hacked to pieces, they too, if they
knew such a fate awaited them beyond the possibility of a doubt if
captured alive, would unhesitatingly court death by their own hands,
suddenly and immediately, rather than wait for the other, a few
hours or days more remote, perhaps, but certain, and horrible in its
prolonged agony.
I know that it was commonly understood, if not actually agreed to
among the officers at frontier posts, that each one should reserve the
last bullet in his revolver for himself in the event of a horrible
contingency. I have known of many officers in the long-ago of my early
service among the Indians, who, whenever they went on an expedition
against the hostile tribes, invariably had concealed about their
persons, easily accessible, a small capsule of prussic acid or some
equally potent and swift messenger of death, to be used in case of a
possible contingency.
Custer, it will be remembered, was shot through the head, and it was a
curious coincidence that two or three of his subordinates whose bodies
were found near his had been shot in precisely the same manner.
In view of all these facts, there can be small doubt that those
officers carried out the plan of death determined upon, the moment they
recognized the hopelessness of their situation.
That the story of Rain-in-the-face, if he ever told it, is not at
all likely to be the truth, may be inferred from the fact that the
average Indian, as I know him, when discoursing of his own prowess is
the most unconscionable liar, and the truth is not in him. Of course
if Rain-in-the-face could prevail upon a newspaper correspondent to
flatter him in regard to the part he took in a battle in which a great
white warrior was defeated, he would rather lie to that correspondent
than not; and that is just what Rain-in-the-face did in this
instance--provided, always, that the correspondent did not invent the
whole tale.
The truth of how Custer came to his death can never absolutely be
known, for out of that awfully unequal conflict there came but one
miserable Crow Indian and Col. Keogh's celebrated horse "Comanche,"
alive. From the fact that the great soldier was not scalped, the theory
I have suggested is certainly more plausible, and will be accepted by
all who are familiar with the customs of the Indians, than that story
which has made the rounds of the newspapers a dozen times.