XXIII XXIII As the old man had foreseen, a melting wind had risen with the waning of the softened day, and the night came roaring with no cloud. Next morning, when again we sat together, the puffing wood-fire grumbled to the gusts of false April, and the tepee canvas bellied, whipping the poles.
“It was a wind like this,” said Eagle Voice; “a big wind, strong and roaring, but it was full of snow and cold. I think I was eighteen winters old that time, and it was in the Moon of Snowblinds [March]. We of the Oglala band had our winter village in the valley of the Powder, not far from where the Little Powder comes in. I think there were fifty or sixty lodges of us; and when our Cheyenne friends came from Red Cloud’s agency to visit and trade with us, I think there were a hundred smokes in our village. We had plenty of papa and wasna and buffalo robes, and the Cheyennes came with powder and guns and canvas tepees they had got from the Wasichus. Also, they came with more word of the big trouble about Pa Sapa. They were saying down yonder that the Wasichus would drive us into those little islands that Wooden Cup had seen long ago; and there we would have to turn ourselves into Wasichus, so that our country could be taken from us. We knew that Gray Fox [General Crook] was in the country and that he had many walking soldiers and horsebacks waiting for the young grass. I was out on a hunting party just before this happened that I am going to tell you, and we saw some of the soldiers. But it was long before the grass, and not yet the time for war, so we were not afraid.
“When our Cheyenne friends came to visit us, there was feasting, for we had plenty, and I heard much talk around the fire at night about the trouble, and about a big village the crazy Wasichus had built in Pa Sapa. But there was talk about the old times, too, when everything was better; and old men told stories that were good to hear, so that those who told and we who heard did not sleep soon.
“It happened when the day had just come and the people were sleeping yet. I thought I was dreaming of many horses galloping and guns shooting and men yelling; but I was not dreaming. We all ran out of our tepee, but I thought of my quirt and hung it around my neck, down my back, as I ran with my gun. Out there all the people were running towards the bluff—men and women and children mixed up and running, screaming and shouting; horseback soldiers galloping and shooting all over the village; women running with babies, old people hobbling, horses rearing and knocking tepees over! It was day, but there was no sun. The wind was strong and full of snow and horses’ heads—something like the fight with the Shoshonis. It was very cold, and we had little clothing, but I did not feel the wind’s teeth. I ran against a man, and when I saw his face, it made me strong, for it was Crazy Horse. He was carrying some little boy on his back, and he was yelling for the men to gather about him behind the women and the old ones. Some near by heard and others saw, and many gathered about him, and more and more. We fought back of the running women and children, but we could not do much. When we were crowded up along the side of the bluff, the canvas tepees were burning down yonder, and the powder the Cheyennes had brought was going off—boom, boom, boom! Tepees and poles flying in the snow wind.
“On the bluff I was not far from Crazy Horse and I heard him crying, ‘We are going back! Let us die today, brothers!’ Then we all began singing the death-song and started back, charging down the hill—Lakotas and Cheyennes, all mixed up and singing. The cowards and baby-killers yonder did not wait long to fight us. I think they did not want to die that day. They galloped away up the valley of the Powder; and there was only the sharp wind blowing full of snow. A few tepees were standing, and some were smoking yet. I saw dead children trampled by the iron hoofs of the horses, and women with babies dead or wounded in the snow.
“When the soldiers ran away, the women and children and old people came swarming down from the bluff; and the mourning was louder than the wind among the scattered homes.
“There were two bands of horseback soldiers, and only one attacked the village. The others were driving our horses away—five or six hundred, maybe more. So we made a war party to go after our herd. When we had put on what clothes we could find we started after the soldiers, maka mani; and Crazy Horse led us, Lakotas and Cheyennes. The soldiers were in a hurry, and some of the horses got away from them. We had to catch strays, and the horseback soldiers had a big start. They did not stop all day. Lela oosni! It was cold, very cold; and the wind was strong. Sometimes we would have to run and lead the horses to keep from freezing.
“When it was dark we were near where another creek we called Lodge Pole comes in, and we began to be careful. The soldiers could not run away all night, and we knew that was a good place to camp. So four scouts went out on foot, and I was one. We ran into the herd. They were huddled together with their heads down and rumps to the wind.
“They were like the bison we found in the snowstorm that time, and they did not notice us. I think there were no guards. We did not find any. At the mouth of the creek there were little fires that did not make much light; and when we crept up through the brush to look, it was good to see what we saw there. The Wasichu horses were standing with their heads down and rumps to the wind, and some that I could see had their saddles on. Maybe all of them had. The soldiers were humped up over little brush fires that could not warm them. It looked as though the baby-killers were going to freeze to death. That was good to see.
“When we told the others, Crazy Horse said it was not the time to fight. There would be plenty of fighting when the grass was new. We came for our horses, and we would not stop to kill soldiers. Let the cold do it. So we began driving the herd. It was hard to start them back into the wind, but we got them moving and pushed them hard down the valley. The soldiers must have heard us, but they did not follow. It was good to think maybe they were freezing to death back there.
“When the night was old, we drove the herd against a bluff that broke the wind, and made good fires with some logs we found there. Crazy Horse said we could sleep and he would watch. It was the second time I heard him say that. The other was when I was on my first war party beyond Mini Shoshay. He was only about thirty winters old, but he was like a father to us who followed him. So we scraped the snow away about the fires and slept with our bellies to the ground. I awoke right away, and it was early morning without wind. The sky was clear and the morning star looked big and sharp. It was very cold. The fires were still burning, and he was sitting as I saw him before I slept. He was wakon. Sometimes when I think about him now, I wonder and wonder. But then I did not think so much, for I was young.
“When the sun was high, another band of Gray Fox’s horseback soldiers attacked us, and we shot at each other, but it was not much of a fight. The herd was strung out when the soldiers came, for the horses were very tired and it was hard to keep them going, so we lost some of them—maybe a hundred. Our band was not big enough to follow the soldiers and drive the herd too, so we kept on down the Powder valley with maybe four hundred. When we got back, the people were all ready to move and they were waiting for the horses. So we moved down the valley to Sitting Bull’s village not far from the river’s mouth. We were poor and they took us in with them. There we lived in patched tepees, waiting for the grass. And the anger of the people grew.
“The snow melted; warm winds came with rain; and when the new grass was high enough to make horses strong, our relatives began coming in to our village—sometimes a big band, sometimes a few iglakas; and more and more they came and the village grew and grew. Then we all moved over to the valley of the Rosebud, deeper into our own country. If Gray Fox wanted his soldiers killed, let him bring them to us there. We would not hunt the soldiers, and we would not go into the little islands the Wasichus made so that they could starve us and steal our country. There on the Rosebud more and more of our relatives came; also Cheyennes and Arapahoes. It was a long camp, and it grew and grew; seven hoops of people; Cheyennes, Oglalas, Miniconjous, Sans Arcs, Hunkpapas, some Santees, Yanktonais, Brûlés, Arapahoes; and horses, horses, many horses. Some of the people came from Red Cloud’s agency; but Red Cloud did not come. We said maybe his skin was getting white and he was turning into a Wasichu. Spotted Tail also was eating Wasichu food. Some came from along the Mini Shoshay with guns they got from Wasichu traders. There were many, many guns in the camp. Many men with big names were there, Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, Gall, Big Road, Black Moon, Crow King. The big names I always knew, but some of the men I never saw before. We knew there were soldiers on both sides of us, on the Yellowstone and on Goose Creek; but we waited there. If the soldiers wanted to be killed, let them come to us. That was our country.
“When the cherry seeds hardened, there was a big sun dance. I danced with the thong in my chest, and for a little I saw the other world; but after the thong tore out of the flesh, I could see only with my eyes. But I could feel a great power. Nobody noticed me that time, for many with big names were dancing.
“Sitting Bull was the principal dancer, and the people watched him most of all; for he was a great wichasha wakon, and he could see things far away and things that were going to happen. For a long time he danced and hung from the tree by the thong in his back. When it tore out, he fell to the ground and lay like dead for a while. Then he awoke; and when they carried him into the sacred lodge, he told a vision that came to him in the world of spirit, and it spread among the people so that everybody knew and talked about it.
“He was camped with all the people in a place that looked like the valley of the Greasy Grass [Little Big Horn]; but it was not the same, for it was glowing and made of spirit. He could see the happy people feasting, each band in its hoop, and the children playing; and on the glowing hills near by fat horses grazed and had their fill of grass that was greener than the youngest grass of this world. Then he saw that a whirling cloud of dust was coming fast from where the sun comes up; and as it came nearer it filled the heavens, so that a darkness fell upon the valley and the village. The cloud was full of shouting, as of men in battle, and screaming as of frightened horses, and thunder as of many guns shooting together. Then a strange rain began to fall out of the dust cloud, a dry rain full of shouting. For it was not water that fell, but soldiers, soldiers, soldiers; all dead and tumbling upside down and over and over as they came falling, until they were heaped and scattered in the twilight of the cloud.
“When the people heard about this vision, they said, ‘There will be a great victory. Many soldiers will come, and they will die.’ So there was a power among the people, and their hearts were strong.
“A little after this I was with a hunting party over on the Greasy Grass, and High Horse and I were together again, for he had come back with his people. Our breasts were very sore from the sun dance, but we both said the pain made us feel stronger. The hunting was not good, so we went back up the Greasy Grass to Ash Creek, and up the creek to where the people had moved while we were gone. Some Cheyennes came there and told about Gray Fox’s soldiers coming down the Rosebud. So there was a council and it was decided that our warriors should go back there and attack the Gray Fox by surprise.
“The sun was going down behind us when we started, and I think there were more than a thousand of us, Sioux and Cheyenne. We rode in a long column with akichita in front and on both sides to watch for soldiers and hold the warriors back until we could all attack together. Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse were with us; but I heard that Sitting Bull was too sick and crippled from the sun dance to fight, and came along to encourage the warriors.
“When the morning star was just coming up in front of us, we stopped to rest the horses and let them eat; and while they grazed we ate what we had with us. Daybreak came, and when the hills began to stare at us, we started again, riding in a column four abreast with the akichita out ahead of us to watch for soldiers. We were coming close to the place on the Rosebud where we had the sun dance, and the river ran through a canyon there. If we could catch the soldiers in the canyon, maybe it would be like Sitting Bull’s vision. High Horse and I talked about that as we rode. Maybe it was not the Greasy Grass he saw; maybe it was the Rosebud where there would be a rain of dead soldiers in the dust cloud.
“We were getting close, and the dawn was coming. The akichita rode up and down the column and made the warriors stop talking. Then we could see that the sun was up back of the ridge ahead of us and it was shining on the hilltops. The Rosebud was just the other side of the ridge, and the akichita out ahead were just coming to the top. High Horse and I were among the fronters because we had won honors.
“All at once there were horses’ heads and men’s heads on the ridge right in front of us! It was a small party of the Gray Fox’s Crow scouts out looking around.
“When we saw the Crows, we all forgot about the surprise. Everybody was yelling. We whipped our horses and went over the ridge on the run. The akichita tried to stop us, but we rode right through them. Hokahey! Hokahey! Most of the Crows got away, but there were plenty of soldiers, walking and horseback, down there in the valley. When we swung to one side to attack the horsebacks, I could see all our warriors swarming over the ridge. Nobody was leading us. We did not circle the soldiers; we just rode in among them all mixed up, and killing the nearest ones with spears and knives and war clubs. Sometimes we would knock them off their horses, then jump down and beat them to death. I saw a Cheyenne cut off a soldier’s arm and ride away with it. Once I saw Crazy Horse, and he was not trying to guide the warriors, he was just fighting like the rest of us. I did not see Sitting Bull, but they say he was in there shouting to the young warriors to give them courage.
“I do not know how long we were fighting there; but all at once the horseback soldiers were gone, and I saw our warriors charging up the valley where many Shoshonis and Crows were getting ready to charge us. We were fighting them, and I think we were going to rub them out; but all at once some horseback soldiers were coming from behind us. Then I could hear our people crying, ‘Take courage! Let us die here! Think of the women and children!’ So we charged back against the horseback soldiers and made them run; but while we were in among them, the Crows and Shoshonis felt braver because of the soldiers, and they charged us. Many of our people began to run away out of the fight crying, ‘Yea-hey!’ High Horse and I were with them. All at once we were on the hillside out of the fighting, and I could see the broad valley full of fighting in bunches—scattered and all mixed up. I do not think anybody was winning—just mixed up and fighting. When we had watched awhile we felt ashamed; so we charged down into the fighting, yelling to each other, ‘This is a good place to die! Take courage! Hokahey!’ Then there was dust, with shouting and guns shooting and men and horses in the dust. Nobody was leading us; we were just hitting the nearest soldier. High Horse and I were brother-friends and we kept together all the time, helping each other. Sometimes we would be out of the fighting, then we would be in again. It was that way all day. Then the sun was setting and our warriors were leaving the valley, riding back up the ridge towards the sunset. The soldiers did not follow us. I think they were as tired of fighting as we were. Most of us rode back to our village that night, but some stayed around there to see what the Gray Fox was going to do. In the morning he went back up the valley with all his soldiers. Some said we whipped him. Some said we did not. I do not know. But it was not the rain of dead soldiers that Sitting Bull saw in his vision.
Nothing touched me all day; I think it was the quirt that protected me. I did not think about my sore breast, but it was sorer that night. Nothing touched High Horse either. Maybe the quirt protected both of us that time because we stayed so close together.