us a visit for the purpose of reviewing the command. The regiment turned
out in fine style and showed themselves to be well-drilled soldiers,
thoroughly understanding military tactics. The Pawnee scouts were also
reviewed, and it was very amusing to see them in their full regular
uniform. They had been furnished a regulation cavalry uniform, and on this
parade some of them had their heavy overcoats on, others their large black
hats, with all the brass accouterments attached; some of them were minus
pantaloons, and only wore a breech-clout. Others wore regulation
pantaloons, but no shirts, and were bareheaded; others again had the seat
of the pantaloons cut out, leaving only leggings; but for all this they
seemed to understand the drill remarkably well for Indians. The commands,
of course, were given to them in their own language by Major North, who
could talk it as well as any full-blooded Pawnee. The Indians were well
mounted, and felt proud and elated because they had been made United
States soldiers. Major North had for years complete control over these
Indians, and could do more with them than any man living. That evening,
after the parade was over, the officers and quite a number of ladies
visited a grand Indian dance given by the Pawnees, and of all the Indians
I have seen, their dances excel those of any other tribe.
Next day the command started. When encamped, several days after, on the
Republican River, near the mouth of the Beaver, we heard the whoops of
Indians, followed by shots in the vicinity of the mule herd, which had
been taken down to water. One of the herders came dashing into camp with
an arrow sticking in him. My horse was close at hand, and mounting him
bareback, I at once dashed off after the mule herd, which had been
stampeded. I supposed certainly that I would be the first man on the
ground, but I was mistaken, however, for the Pawnee Indians, unlike
regular soldiers, had not waited to receive orders from their officers,
but had jumped on their ponies without bridles or saddles, and placing
ropes in their mouths, had dashed off in the direction whence the shots
came, and had got there ahead of me. It proved to be a party of about
fifty Sioux who had endeavored to stampede our mules, and it took them by
surprise to see their inveterate enemies, the Pawnees, coming at full
gallop at them. They were not aware that the Pawnees were with the
command, and as they knew it would take regular soldiers some time to turn
out, they thought they would have ample opportunity to secure the herd
before the troops could give chase.
We had a running fight of fifteen miles, and several of the enemy were
killed. During this chase I was mounted on an excellent horse, which
Colonel Royal had picked out for me, and for the first mile or two I was
in advance of the Pawnees. Presently a Pawnee shot by me like an arrow,
and I could not help admiring the horse he was riding. Seeing that he
possessed rare running qualities, I determined to get possession of the
animal in some way. It was a large buckskin or yellow horse, and I took a
careful view of him, so that I would know him when I returned to camp.
After the chase was over I rode up to Major North and inquired about the
buckskin horse.
"Oh yes," said the Major; "that is one of our favorite steeds."
"What chance is there to trade for him?" I asked.
"It is a government horse," said he, "and the Indian who is riding him is
very much attached to the animal."
"I have fallen in love with the horse myself," said I, "and I would like
to know if you have any objections to my trading for him if I can arrange
it satisfactorily with the Indians?"
He replied, "None whatever, and I will help you to do it; you can give the
Indian another horse in his place."
A few days after this I persuaded the Indian, by making him several
presents, to trade horses with me, and in this way I became the owner of
the buckskin steed; not as my own property, however, but as a government
horse that I could ride. I gave him the name of "Buckskin Joe," and he
proved to be a fine buffalo hunter. In the winter of 1872, after I had
left Fort McPherson, Buckskin Joe was condemned and sold at public sale,
and was bought by Dave Perry, at North Platte, who in 1877 presented him
to me, and I owned him until his death in 1879.
The command scouted several days up the Beaver and Prairie Dog rivers,
occasionally having running fights with way parties of Indians, but did
not succeed in getting them into a general battle. At the end of twenty
days we found ourselves back on the Republican.
Hitherto the Pawnees had not taken much interest in me, but while at this
camp I gained their respect and admiration by showing them how I killed
buffaloes. Although the Pawnees were excellent buffalo hunters, for
Indians, I have never seen one of them kill more than four or five in a
single run. A number of them generally surround the herd and then dash in
upon them, and in this way each one kills from one to four buffaloes. I
had gone out in company with Major North and some of the officers, and saw
them make a "surround." Twenty of the Pawnees circled a herd and succeeded
in killing only thirty-two.
While they were cutting up the animals another herd appeared in sight. The
Indians were preparing to surround it, when I asked Major North to keep
them back and let me show them what I could do. He accordingly informed
the Indians of my wish, and they readily consented to let me have the
opportunity. I had learned that Buckskin Joe was an excellent buffalo
horse, and felt confident that I would astonish the natives. Galloping in
among the buffaloes, I certainly did so by killing thirty-six in less than
a half-mile run. At nearly every shot I killed a buffalo, stringing the
dead animals out on the prairie, not over fifty feet apart. This manner of
killing was greatly admired by the Indians, who called me a big chief, and
from that time on I stood high in their estimation.
On leaving camp the command took a westward course up the Republican, and
Major North, with two companies of cavalry, under the command of Colonel
Royal, made a scout to the north of the river. Shortly after we had gone
into camp, on the Black Tail Deer Fork, we observed a band of Indians
coming over the prairie at full gallop, singing and yelling and waving
their lances and long poles. At first we supposed them to be Sioux, and
all was excitement for a few moments. We noticed, however, that our
Pawnee Indians made no hostile demonstrations or preparations toward going
out to fight them, but began singing and yelling themselves. Captain Lute
North stepped up to General Carr and said: "General, those are our men who
are coming, and they have had a fight. That is the way they act when they
come back from a battle and have taken any scalps."
The Pawnees came into camp on the run. Captain North, calling to one of
them, a sergeant, soon found out that they had run across a party of Sioux
who were following a large Indian trail. These Indians had evidently been
in a fight, for two or three of them had been wounded, and they were
conveying the injured persons on _travoix_. The Pawnees had "jumped" them,
and had killed three or four after a sharp fight, in which much ammunition
was expended.
Next morning the command, at an early hour, started out to take up this
Indian trail, which they followed for two days as rapidly as possible, it
becoming evident from the many camp fires which we passed that we were
gaining on the Indians. Wherever they had encamped we found the print of a
woman's shoe, and we concluded that they had with them some white captive.
This made us all the more anxious to overtake them, and General Carr
selected all his best horses which could stand a long run, and gave orders
for the wagon train to follow as fast as possible, while he pushed ahead
on a forced march. At the same time I was ordered to pick out five or six
of the best Pawnees and go in advance of the command, keeping ten or
twelve miles ahead on the trail, so that when we overtook the Indians we
could find out the location of their camp, and send word to the troops
before they came in sight, thus affording ample time to arrange a plan for
the capture of the village.
After having gone about ten miles in advance of the regiment, we began to
move very cautiously, as we were now evidently nearing the Indians. We
looked carefully over the summits of the hills before exposing ourselves
to plain view, and at last we discovered the village, encamped in the sand
hills south of the South Platte River at Summit Springs. Here I left the
Pawnee scouts to keep watch, while I went back and informed General Carr
that the Indians were in sight.
The General at once ordered his men to tighten their saddles and otherwise
prepare for action. Soon all was excitement among the officers and
soldiers, every one being anxious to charge the village. I now changed my
horse for old Buckskin Joe, who had been led for me thus far, and was
comparatively fresh. Acting on my suggestion, the General made a circuit
to the north, believing that if the Indians had their scouts out they
would naturally be watching in the direction whence they had come. When we
had passed the Indians, and were between them and the Platte River, we
turned toward the left and started toward the village.
By this manoeuver we had avoided discovery by the Sioux scouts, and we
were confident of giving them a complete surprise. Keeping the command
wholly out of sight until we were within a mile of the Indians, the
General halted the advance guard until all closed up, and then issued an
order that when he sounded the charge the whole command was to rush into
the village.
As we halted on the top of the hill overlooking the camp of unsuspecting
Indians, General Carr called out to his bugler, "Sound the charge!"
The bugler for a moment became intensely excited, and actually forgot the
notes. The General again sang out, "Sound the charge!" and yet the bugler
was unable to obey the command. Quartermaster Hays--who had obtained
permission to accompany the expedition--was riding near the General, and
comprehending the dilemma of the man, rushed up to him, jerked the bugle
from his hands, and sounded the charge himself in clear, distinct notes.
As the troops rushed forward, he threw the bugle away, then drawing his
pistols, was among the first men that entered the village.
The Indians had just driven up their horses, and were preparing to make a
move of the camp, when they saw the soldiers coming down upon them. A
great many of them succeeded in jumping upon their ponies and, leaving
everything behind them, advanced out of the village and prepared to meet
the charge; but, upon second thought, they quickly concluded that it was
useless to try to check us, and those who were mounted rapidly rode away,
while the others on foot fled for safety to the neighboring hills. We went
through their village, shooting right and left at everything we saw. The
Pawnees, the regular soldiers, and officers were all mixed up together,
and the Sioux were flying in every direction.
The pursuit continued until darkness made it impossible to longer follow
the Indians, who had scattered and were leading off in every direction
like a brood of young quails. The expedition went into camp along the
South Platte, much exhausted by so long a chase, and though very tired,
every trooper seemed anxious for the morrow.
It was nearly sunrise when "boots and saddles" was sounded, breakfast
having been disposed of at break of day. The command started in a most
seasonable time, but finding that the trail was all broken up, it was
deemed advisable to separate into companies, each to follow a different
trail.
The company which I headed struck out toward the northwest, over a route
indicating the march of about one hundred Indians, and followed this for
nearly two days. At a short bend of the Platte a new trail was discovered
leading into the one the company was following, and at this point it was
evident that a junction had been made. Farther along evidences of a
reunion of the entire village increased, and now it began to appear that
further pursuit would be somewhat hazardous, owing to the largely
increased force of Indians. But there were plenty of brave men in the
company, and nearly all were anxious to meet the Indians, however great
their numbers might be. This anxiety was appeased on the third day, when a
party of about six hundred Sioux was discovered riding in close ranks near
the Platte. The discovery was mutual, and there was immediate preparation
for battle on both sides. Owing to the overwhelming force of Indians,
extreme caution became necessary, and instead of advancing boldly, the
soldiers sought advantageous ground. Seeing this, the Indians became
convinced that there had been a division in General Carr's command, and
that the company before them was a fragmentary part of the expedition.
They therefore assumed the aggressive, charging us until we were compelled
to retire to a ravine and act on the defensive. The attack was made with
such caution that the soldiers fell back without undue haste, and had
ample opportunity to secure their horses in the natural pit, which was a
ravine that during wet seasons formed a branch of the Platte.
After circling about the soldiers with a view of measuring their full
strength, the Indians, comprehending how small was the number, made a
desperate charge from two sides, getting so near us that several of the
soldiers were badly wounded by arrows. But the Indians were received with
such withering fire that they fell back in confusion, leaving twenty of
their warriors on the ground. Another charge resulted like the first, with
heavy loss to the redskins, which so discouraged them that they drew off
and held a long council. After discussing the situation among themselves,
they separated, one body making off as though they intended to leave; but
I understood their motions too well to allow the soldiers to be deceived.
The Indians that remained again began to ride in a circle around us, but
maintained a safe distance out of rifle range. Seeing an especially
well-mounted Indian riding at the head of a squad, passing around in the
same circle more than a dozen times, I decided to take my chances for
dismounting the chief (as he proved to be), and to accomplish this purpose
I crawled on my hands and knees three hundred yards up the ravine,
stopping at a point which I considered would be in range of the Indian
when he should again make the circuit. My judgment proved correct, for
soon the Indian was seen loping his pony through the grass, and as he
slackened speed to cross the ravine I rose up and fired, the aim being so
well taken that the chief tumbled to the ground, while his horse, after
running a few hundred yards, approached the soldiers, one of whom ran out
and caught hold of the long lariat attached to the bridle, and thus
secured the animal. When I returned to the company, all of whom had
witnessed my feat of killing an Indian at a range of fully four hundred
yards, by general consent the horse of my victim was given to me.
This Indian whom I killed proved to be Tall Bull, one of the most cunning
and able chiefs the Sioux ever had, and his death so affected the Indians
that they at once retreated without further attempt to dislodge us.
Some days after this occurrence General Carr's command was brought
together again and had an engagement with the Sioux, in which more than
three hundred warriors and a large number of ponies were captured,
together with several hundred squaws, among the latter being Tall Bull's
widow, who told with pathetic interest how the Prairie Chief had killed
her husband. But instead of being moved with hatred against me, as most
civilized women would have been under like circumstances, she regarded me
with special favor, and esteemed it quite an honor that her husband, a
great warrior himself, should have met his death at my hands.
IV
MY DUEL WITH YELLOW HAND
When the news of the terrible massacre of Custer was learned, preparations
were immediately made to avenge his death. The whole Cheyenne and Sioux
tribes were in revolt, and a lively, if not very dangerous, campaign was
in prospective. Two days before receipt of the news of the massacre,
Colonel Stanton, who was with the Fifth Cavalry, had been sent to Red
Cloud agency, and on the evening of the receipt of news of the Custer
fight a scout arrived in our camp with a message from the Colonel,
informing General Merritt that eight hundred Cheyenne warriors had that
day left Red Cloud agency to join Sitting Bull's hostile forces in the Big
Horn country.
Notwithstanding the instructions to proceed immediately to join General
Crook by the way of Fort Fetterman, General Merritt took the
responsibility of endeavoring to intercept the Cheyennes, and, as the
sequel shows, he performed a very important service.
He selected five hundred men and horses, and in two hours we were making a
forced march back to Hat, or War-Bonnet Creek, the intention being to
reach the main Indian trail running to the north across that creek before
the Cheyennes could get there. We arrived there the next night, and at
daylight the following morning, July 17, 1876, I went out on a scout, and
found that the Indians had not yet crossed the creek. On my way back to
the command I discovered a large party of Indians, which proved to be the
Cheyennes, coming up from the south, and I hurried to the camp with this
important information.
The cavalrymen quietly mounted their horses and were ordered to remain out
of sight, while General Merritt, accompanied by two or three aids and
myself, went out on a little tour of observation to a neighboring hill,
from the summit of which we saw that the Indians were approaching almost
directly toward us. Presently fifteen or twenty of them dashed off to the
west, in the direction from which we had come the night before; and upon
closer observation with our field glasses we discovered two mounted
soldiers, evidently carrying dispatches for us, pushing forward on our
trail.
The Indians were evidently trying to intercept these two men, and General
Merritt feared that they would accomplish their object. He did not think
it advisable to send out any soldiers to the assistance of the couriers,
for fear that they would show to the Indians that there were troops in the
vicinity who were waiting for them. I finally suggested that the best plan
was to wait until the couriers came closer to the command, and then, just
as the Indians were about to charge, to let me take the scouts and cut
them off from the main body of the Cheyennes who were coming over the
divide.
"All right, Cody," said the General. "If you can do that, go ahead."
I rushed back to the command, jumped on my horse, picked out fifteen men,
and returned with them to the point of observation. I told General Merritt
to give us the word to start out at the proper time, and presently he sang
out:
"Go in now, Cody, and be quick about it. They are going to charge on the
couriers."
The two messengers were not over four hundred yards from us, and the
Indians were only about two hundred yards behind them. We instantly dashed
over the bluffs, and advanced on a gallop toward the Indians. A running
fight lasted several minutes, during which we drove the enemy some little
distance and killed three of their number. The rest of them rode off
toward the main body, which had come into plain sight and halted, upon
seeing the skirmish that was going on. We were about half a mile from
General Merritt, and the Indians whom we were chasing suddenly turned upon
us, and another lively skirmish took place. One of the Indians, who was
handsomely decorated with all the ornaments usually worn by a war chief
when engaged in a fight, sang out to me, in his own tongue, "I know you,
Pa-he-haska; if you want to fight, come ahead and fight me."
The chief was riding his horse back and forth in front of his men as if to
banter me, and I concluded to accept the challenge. I galloped toward him
for fifty yards, and he advanced toward me about the same distance, both
of us riding at full speed, and then, when we were only about thirty yards
apart, I raised my rifle and fired; his horse fell to the ground, having
been killed by a bullet. Almost at the same moment my own horse went down,
he having stepped into a gopher hole. The fall did not hurt me much, and I
instantly sprang to my feet. The Indian had also recovered himself, and we
were now both on foot, and not more than twenty paces apart. We fired at
each other simultaneously. My usual luck did not desert me on this
occasion, for his bullet missed me, while mine struck him in the breast.
He reeled and fell, but before he had fairly touched the ground I was upon
him, knife in hand, and had driven the keen-edged weapon to its hilt in
his heart. Jerking his war bonnet off, I scientifically scalped him in
about five seconds.
The whole affair from beginning to end occupied but little time, and the
Indians, seeing that I was some little distance from my company, now came
charging down upon me from a hill, in hopes of cutting me off. General
Merritt had witnessed the duel, and realizing the danger I was in, ordered
Colonel Mason with Company K to hurry to my rescue. The order came none
too soon, for had it been one minute later I would have had not less than
two hundred Indians upon me. As the soldiers came up I swung the Indian
chieftain's topknot and bonnet in the air and shouted, "the first scalp
for Custer."
General Merritt, seeing that he could not now ambush the Indians, ordered
the whole regiment to charge upon them. They made a stubborn resistance
for a little while, but it was no use for any eight hundred, or even
sixteen hundred, Indians to try to check a charge of the gallant old Fifth
Cavalry, and they soon came to that conclusion, and began a running
retreat toward Red Cloud agency. For thirty-five miles we drove them,
pushing them so hard that they were obliged to abandon their loose horses,
their camp equipage, and everything else. We drove them into the agency,
and followed in ourselves, notwithstanding the possibility of our having
to encounter the thousands of Indians at that point. We were uncertain
whether or not the agency Indians had determined to follow the example of
the Cheyennes and strike out upon the warpath; but that made no difference
with the Fifth Cavalry, for they would have fought them all if necessary.
It was dark when we rode into the agency, where we found thousands of
Indians collected together; but they manifested no disposition to fight.
While at the agency I learned the name of the Indian chief whom I had
killed that morning; it was Yellow Hand, a son of old Cut Nose, a leading
chief of the Cheyennes. Cut Nose having learned that I had killed his son,
sent a white interpreter to me with a message to the effect that he would
give me four mules if I would turn over to him Yellow Hand's war-bonnet,
guns, pistols, ornaments, and other paraphernalia which I had captured. I
sent back word to the old gentleman that it would give me pleasure to
accommodate him, but I could not do it this time.
The next morning we started to join General Crook, who was camped near the
foot of Cloud Peak in the Big Horn Mountains, awaiting the arrival of the
Fifth Cavalry before proceeding against the Sioux, who were somewhere near
the head of the Little Big Horn--as his scouts informed him. We made rapid
marches, and reached General Crook's camp on Goose Creek about the 3d of
August.
At this camp I met many old friends, among whom was Colonel Royal, who had
received his promotion to the lieutenant colonelcy of the Third Cavalry.
He introduced me to General Crook, whom I had never met before, but of
whom I had often heard. He also introduced me to the General's chief
guide, Frank Grouard, a half-breed, who had lived six years with Sitting
Bull, and knew the country thoroughly.