Fort Rice was located ten miles above the mouth of the Cannon-Ball River and twenty miles below the new town of Bismarck. Around-about the slate-colored frame buildings stretched the sagey Dakota plains, seemingly vaster and barer even than the rolling buffalo plains of Kansas. Butte and coulée or dry wash broke them; the only trees were along the water courses. The winds were fresh and strong, the short summers hot, the long winters cold. It was a country that bred strong, hardy, robust men and women, and such were the Sioux—the proud Dakota nation. The Northern Pacific Railroad from St. Paul had reached Bismarck, and was determined to push on across Dakota and Montana, as the union Pacific had pushed on across Nebraska and Wyoming. Scarcely had the Seventh Cavalry been welcomed at Fort Rice, when they prepared to take the long trail again, as escort to protect the engineers surveying a route westward for the railroad.
So when the Northern Pacific Railroad engineers started upon their survey westward still, their escort numbered almost 2000 soldiers: of the Seventh[237] Cavalry, of infantry, of artillery, and of Indian scouts, all under Major-General D. S. Stanley, with General Custer the “Long Hair” in command of the ten companies of the Seventh.
It was to be a march clear across western Dakota to the Yellowstone River of Montana. Few white men had seen this country.
The Indian scouts were not the faithful Osages or Kaws. They were Arikaras; a war-like tribe of smaller numbers than the southern Indians; their head scout was Bloody Knife. They hated the Sioux, and so did the Crows of Montana. The Sioux long had fought the Arikaras, and nowadays were constantly invading the country of the Crows, for scalps and horses.
With the Seventh were Dr. James Honzinger, the fat, bald-headed old veterinary surgeon of the regiment, and Mr. Baliran who was the post sutler. They were not enlisted men but were civilian employees, and accompanied the expedition as an outing. The general took Mary the black cook, for his mess.
It required a month of marching before, July 19, the Yellowstone River in Montana was reached. It had seemed much like old times, with the general leading on Dandy or Vic, in his fringed buckskins, his fringed gauntlets, his broad-brimmed hat, his blue shirt and crimson tie, and high, red-topped boots; the hounds galloping right and left, and plenty of hunting.
The engineer party, and the scientists who were[238] along, must move slowly, taking many notes. Dr. Honzinger and Mr. Baliran insisted upon straggling and riding apart from the column, picking up specimens. They were warned that this was dangerous practice, but they did not heed, and refused even to carry any weapons.
Near where the Powder River empties into the Yellowstone the general took Captain Moylan’s company and Lieutenant Tom’s company, and Bloody Knife the Arikara scout, to explore the route ahead. No Indians had yet been sighted; but now, after a mile or two, Bloody Knife, stopping short, examining the ground, signed: “Indians have passed here.”
So they had: nineteen Sioux, by the fresh sign. They must have been reconnoitering the camp, and had traveled on to inform the main company of warriors.
Nevertheless, on rode the little squadron, until from the bluffs along the Yellowstone, green before them lay the beautiful valley of the Tongue River flowing up from the south. The general gave orders to make camp in a clump of cottonwood trees, and to wait for the column. With horses unsaddled and unbitted and staked out, and pickets posted, the command stretched out upon the ground for a rest. Most of the officers loosened their clothing and prepared to nap.
Ned was nodding, half asleep, when breaking the[239] perfect calm, starting everybody with a jump, spoke the “Bang! Bang!” of the pickets’ carbines.
“Indians!” were shouting the pickets’ voices.
The camp was on its feet, peering and blinking. The pickets were kneeling and aiming; and beyond them, across the open valley were riding for the tethered horses a short line of painted horsemen.
“To your horses, men! Quick! To your horses! Run!” The command of the general was as sharp as the crack of a whip. Shoeless and hatless and coatless he stood, rifle in hand.
There were only half a dozen Indians in sight. Evidently they had intended to stampede the mounts; but they had reckoned without their host. The Seventh Cavalry had met Indians before. Out rushed the troopers, to grasp the lariats of the horses, and to reinforce the picket-line. And stopping short, the squad of Indians only raced back and forth, beyond range, gesturing as if inviting the soldiers to come and get them. Sioux they were, by their war-dress and action, said Bloody Knife, his eyes flaming hatred and disdain.
Now was it “Boots and Saddles” and “Mount.” The general took Adjutant Calhoun and Lieutenant Tom and twenty men, including Ned the trumpeter, and galloped forth boldly; Captain Moylan was to follow.
The six Sioux easily kept out of reach. As anybody ought to know, they were only trying cunningly[240] to lead the white chief on, into an ambuscade. So continued the chase, up the grassy green valley.
“I’ll take my orderly and ride ahead, Tom,” presently called the general. “Perhaps that will develop those rascals’ plan. You follow at about two hundred yards interval, ready to rush in.”
The general was on his Kentucky horse Vic. Sergeant Butler his orderly had a good horse, too. But the Indians would not let even them close in, with the other soldiers so near at hand. They were smart, these six Sioux, and knew what they were about.
A patch of timber was before to the left. The general had halted; also halted the six Indians. The general rode in a circle, for a parley; the six Indians paid no attention. Now here came Sergeant Butler, back with a message from the general. He saluted Lieutenant Tom.
“The general’s compliments, and he would suggest that you keep a sharp eye on that bunch of trees, yonder,” said the sergeant.
“Very well,” responded Lieutenant Tom.
Sergeant Butler galloped off.
“In my opinion, that brush is full of Sioux, and those six bucks would be only too glad to lead us past,” said Adjutant Calhoun, to Lieutenant Tom.
“The general had better join us or we him,” answered the lieutenant, gazing anxiously. “He’s too near. He’s liable——” but from all the detachment issued a sudden cry.
[241]
The six Sioux had wheeled, and were charging, and from the timber patch had burst, as if at a breath, fully three hundred others. At full speed they came, whooping and firing, and in splendid line. Evidently these Sioux were fine warriors.
All eyes leaped to the general. Around he had whirled, around had whirled the sergeant, and back they were spurring for dear life. They were three hundred yards from the timber, almost opposite to them, and two hundred yards from the soldiers.
On sped the line of Sioux, dividing, part to head off the general, part to ride to rear of the detachment and head off Captain Moylan, coming from behind.
“Prepare to fight on foot!” It was Lieutenant Tom’s clear voice.
From the saddle swung three men from each squad, leaving Number Four to hold the horses.
“As skirmishers, men! Quick!” and “Company—halt!” issued the commands. There was no time for regulation orders. Out in front of the horses had run the dismounted men, to halt in loose line, kneel, and without waiting for more orders, to aim.
“Don’t fire, men, until I give the word,” spoke Lieutenant Tom, revolver in hand, behind the line. “Aim low.”
Racing in toward one another the Sioux, and the general and Sergeant Butler, seemed about to join. But the general and the sergeant were beating. They would arrive first. Good!
[242]
The Sioux were well within range. Their war-paint and their feathers showed plain. There were enough of them to ride over the little line of cavalry and trample it to death. Ned, revolver drawn as he knelt at the rear of the line, felt himself trembling, although he was not afraid. Out rang the voice of Lieutenant Tom.
“Let them have it!”
“Crash!” belched the fifteen carbines. And with smart rattle as chambers opened, closed, reloaded they belched again: “Crash!” Through the smoke Indian horsemen were reeling and falling, ponies were sprawling or galloping wildly; and away to either side were scampering the Sioux warri............