Saga of the Sioux

by Dee Brown

  Riding down to the camp single file, the Sioux encircled the soldiers guarding the horse herd and began picking them off one by one until a company of cavalrymen came charging up the bank of the Powder. The Sioux quickly withdrew on their fast ponies, keeping out of range until the Bluecoats’ bony mounts began to falter. Then they turned on their pursuers.

  This photograph by Orlando Scott Goff shows Sitting Bull in 1881. Goff became famous for his many photographic portraits of Sitting Bull. [LOC, USZ62-12277]

  After a few minutes, the soldiers re-formed their ranks, and at the sound of a bugle came charging after the Sioux again. Once more the swift mustangs carried the Sioux warriors out of range. The Indians then scattered, causing the frustrated soldiers to halt. This time the Sioux turned and attacked from all sides. Sitting Bull captured a black stallion.

  Alarmed by the Indian attack and fearing worse, the Eagle Chiefs Cole and Walker formed their columns for a forced march southward along the Powder River. For a few days the Sioux followed the soldiers, scaring them by appearing suddenly on ridgetops or making little attacks against the rear guard. Sitting Bull and the other leaders laughed at how frightened the Bluecoats became.

  When a big sleet storm struck, the Indians took shelter for two days. At one point they heard scattered firing from the direction of the soldiers’ camp. The next day they found the soldiers’ abandoned camp. Dead horses were everywhere. The soldiers had shot them because they could not make them go any farther.

  Since many of the frightened Bluecoats were now on foot, the Sioux decided to keep following them and drive them so crazy with fear they would never return to the Black Hills. Along the way, these Hunkpapas and Minneconjous began meeting small scouting parties of Oglala Sioux and Cheyennes who were looking for Star Chief Connor’s column. There was great excitement in these meetings. Only a few miles south was a large Cheyenne village, and as runners brought the leaders of the bands together, they began planning a big ambush for the soldiers.

  The Cheyenne warrior Woqini, known to whites as Roman Nose, was never a chief. But he was regarded by both Indians and whites as one of the greatest warriors of the Plains tribes. Like Red Cloud and Sitting Bull, he was determined to fight for his country. Roman Nose also believed he had powerful protection in battle. It was a warbonnet filled with so many eagle feathers that when he was mounted, the warbonnet trailed almost to the ground. As long as Roman Nose also did not touch anything made by white men or eat anything cooked with white men’s utensils before he went into battle, when he wore this warbonnet, the white man’s bullets would not touch him.

  In September, when the Cheyenne camp first heard about the soldiers fleeing south up the Powder River, Roman Nose asked for the privilege of leading a charge against the Bluecoats. A day or two later, the soldiers were camped in a bend of the river, with high bluffs and thick timber on both sides. Deciding that this was an excellent place for an attack, the chiefs brought several hundred warriors into position all around the camp. They began the fight by sending small decoy parties in to draw the soldiers out of their wagon corral. But the soldiers would not come out.

  In 1907, Sioux chief High Hawk was photographed in ceremonial dress by Edward Curtis. He is wearing a warbonnet and holding a coup stick. French fur traders gave the coup stick its name. The word coup is French for “blow” or “strike.” For Native Americans, going to war was a major test of manhood. One way a young warrior demonstrated his courage was by “counting coup”—using a coup stick to hit an enemy. This was a highly respected act of bravery because it meant you were close enough to your enemy to risk capture. [LOC, USZ62-48426]

  Then Roman Nose rode up on his white pony, his warbonnet trailing behind him, his face painted for battle. He called to the Cheyenne warriors not to fight singly as they had always done but to fight together as the soldiers did. The warriors maneuvered their ponies into a line facing the soldiers, who were standing in formation before their wagons. Roman Nose danced his white pony in front of his warriors, telling them to hold fast until he had emptied the soldiers’ guns. Then he slapped the pony into a run and rode straight as an arrow toward one end of the line of soldiers. When he was close enough to see their faces clearly, he turned and rode fast along the length of the soldiers’ line. They emptied their guns at him all along the way. At the end of the line, he wheeled the white pony and rode back along the soldiers’ front again.

  “He made three, or perhaps four, rushes from one end of the line to the other,” said George Bent, the half-breed Cheyenne. “And then his pony was shot and fell under him. On seeing this, the warriors set up a yell and charged. They attacked the troops all along the line, but could not break through anywhere.”

  Roman Nose had lost his horse, but his protective medicine saved his life. He also learned some things that day about fighting Bluecoats—and so did Red Cloud, Sitting Bull, Dull Knife, and the other leaders. Bravery, numbers, massive charges—they all meant nothing if the warriors were armed only with bows, lances, clubs, and old trade muskets. The soldiers had modern repeating rifles and the support of howitzers.

  For several days after the fight—which would be remembered by the Indians as Roman Nose’s Fight—the Cheyenne and Sioux continued to harass the soldiers. The Bluecoats were now barefoot and in rags, and they had nothing left to eat but their bony horses, which they devoured raw because the Indians gave them no time to stop and build fires. At last toward the end of the Drying Grass Moon (September), Star Chief Connor’s returning column arrived to rescue Cole’s and Walker’s beaten soldiers. The soldiers all camped together around the stockade at Fort Connor on the Powder River until messengers from Fort Laramie arrived with orders recalling all troops except for two companies, which were to remain at Fort Connor, renamed Fort Reno in November 1865.

  General Connor had left the companies six howitzers to help defend their stockade. Red Cloud and the other leaders studied the fort from a distance. They knew they had enough warriors to storm the stockade, but too many would die under the showers of shot hurled by the big guns. They finally agreed upon a strategy of holding the soldiers prisoners in their fort all winter and cutting off their supplies from Fort Laramie.

  Before that winter ended, half the luckless troops in the fort were dead or dying of scurvy, malnutrition, and pneumonia. Many slipped away and deserted, taking their chances with the Indians outside.

  As for the Indians, all except the small bands of warriors needed to watch the fort moved over to the Black Hills, where plentiful herds of antelope and buffalo kept them well fed and comfortable in their warm lodges. Through the long winter evenings, the chiefs recounted the events of Star Chief Connor’s invasion. Because the Arapaho had been overconfident and careless, they had lost a village, many lives, and part of their rich pony herd. The other tribes had lost a few lives but no horses or lodges. They had captured horses and mules carrying U.S. brands. They had taken cavalry rifles, saddles, and other equipment from the soldiers. Above all, they had gained a new confidence in their ability to drive the Bluecoat soldiers from their land.

  “If white men come into my country again, I will punish them again,” Red Cloud said, but he knew that unless he could somehow obtain many new guns like the ones they had captured from the soldiers, and plenty of ammunition for the guns, the Indians could not go on punishing the soldiers forever.

  FIVE

  Red Cloud's War

  I have two mountains in that country—the Black Hills and the Big Horn Mountain. I want the Great Father to make no roads through them.

  —RED CLOUD OF THE OGLALA SIOUX

  WHILE THE Indians in the Powder River country were demonstrating their military power, the United States sent a treaty commission to the upper Missouri River. Now that the white man’s Civil War was over, the trickle of white immigration to the West was showing signs of increasing to a flood. What the treaty commissioners wanted was right of passageway for trails, roads, and eventually railroads across the Indian country.<
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  At every Sioux village near the river, the commissioners stopped to meet and talk, or parley, about a new treaty with whatever leaders they could find. Newton Edmunds, recently appointed governor of the Dakota Territory, was the prime mover on this commission. Another member was General Henry Sibley, who had driven the Santee Sioux from Minnesota. Edmunds and Sibley handed out blankets, molasses, crackers, and other presents to the Indians they visited and had no difficulty in persuading their hosts to sign new treaties. They also sent runners into the Black Hills and Powder River country inviting the warrior chiefs to come and sign. But the chiefs were busy fighting General Connor’s invaders, and none responded.

  Before the autumn of 1865 ended, the commissioners had completed nine treaties with the Sioux. Government authorities in Washington proclaimed the end of Indian hostilities. At last the Plains Indians were pacified, they said. Never again would there be a need for expensive campaigns such as Connor’s Powder River expedition.

  Spotted Tail in an undated photograph. [LOC, USZ62-131515]

  Governor Edmunds and the other commission members knew very well that the treaties were meaningless because not one warrior chief had signed them. Although the commissioners forwarded copies to Washington to be ratified by Congress, they continued their efforts to persuade Red Cloud and the other Powder River chiefs to meet with them at a convenient location for further treaty signings. As the Bozeman Trail was the most important route out of Fort Laramie to Montana, military officials at the fort were under heavy pressure to persuade Red Cloud and other war leaders to cease their blockade of the Bozeman Trail and siege of Fort Reno, and to come to Laramie at the earliest possible date.

  Colonel Henry Maynadier, the commandant at Fort Laramie, tried to find a trustworthy frontiersman to act as intermediary with Red Cloud. But none was willing to go into the Powder River country so soon after Connor had angered the tribes with his invasion. At last Maynadier decided to employ as messengers some Brulé and Oglala chiefs such as Big Mouth, Big Ribs, Eagle Foot, and Whirlwind, who spent much of their time around the fort. Referred to contemptuously as the “Laramie Loafers,” these trader Indians were actually shrewd entrepreneurs. If a white man wanted a first-rate buffalo robe at a bargain, or if an Indian up on the Tongue River wanted supplies from the fort commissary, the Laramie Loafers arranged exchanges. They would play an important role as munitions suppliers to the Indians during Red Cloud’s war.

  During the months of the Moon of Popping Trees (December) and the Moon of Strong Cold (January), Big Mouth and his party spread the news that fine gifts awaited all warrior chiefs if they would come to Fort Laramie and sign new treaties. On January 16, 1866, the messengers returned in company with two bands of Lakota Brulés led by Standing Elk and Swift Bear. The winter had struck these two groups hard. Unable to find enough game and short of shelter, Standing Elk and Swift Bear were eager to sign the treaty and receive clothing and provisions for their cold and hungry people.

  “But what about Red Cloud?” Colonel Maynadier wanted to know. “Where were Red Cloud, Man-Afraid-of-His-Horses, Dull Knife—the leaders who had fought Connor’s soldiers?” Big Mouth and the other Laramie Loafers assured him that the warrior chiefs would be there in a short time. They could not be hurried, especially in the Moon of Strong Cold.

  There was one important Sioux chief who had decided not to join Red Cloud in the war against the Bluecoats. He was the Brulé chief Sinte Gleska, whom the white man called Spotted Tail. Early in the Moon of the Snowblind (March) a messenger arrived from Spotted Tail informing Colonel Maynadier that the Brulé chief was coming to discuss the treaty. Spotted Tail’s daughter Fleet Foot was very ill, and he hoped the soldiers’ doctor would make her well again. A few days later, when Maynadier heard that Fleet Foot had died en route, he rode out with a company of soldiers and an ambulance to meet the mourning procession of Brulés.

  Colonel Maynadier had arranged for a military escort and funeral for Fleet Foot. He hoped that this show of sympathy and respect would help convince Spotted Tail to reopen the Bozeman Trail for the whites. He told Spotted Tail that the Great Father in Washington was sending out a new peace commission in the spring. He wanted Spotted Tail to stay near the fort until the commissioners arrived. It was urgent that the Bozeman Trail be made safe for travel. “I am informed that the travel next spring will be very great,” the colonel said, “to the mines of Idaho and Montana.”

  “We think we have been much wronged,” replied Spotted Tail, “and are entitled to compensation for the damage and distress caused by making so many roads through our country, and driving off and destroying the buffalo and game. My heart is very sad, and I cannot talk on business; I will wait and see the counselors the Great Father will send.”

  Four days after the funeral for Fleet Foot, Chief Red Cloud, leading a large party of Oglalas, appeared suddenly outside the fort. They stopped first at Spotted Tail’s camp, and the two leaders were enjoying a reunion when Maynadier came out with a soldier escort to conduct both of them to his headquarters with the pomp and ceremony of drums and bugles.

  When Maynadier told Red Cloud that the new peace commissioners would not arrive at Fort Laramie for some weeks, the Oglala chief became angry. Big Mouth and the other messengers had told him that if he came in and signed a treaty, he would receive presents. He needed guns, ammunition, and provisions. Maynadier replied that he could issue the visiting Oglalas provisions from the army stores, but he had no authority to distribute guns and ammunition. Red Cloud then wanted to know what the treaty would give his people; they had signed treaties before, and it always seemed that the Indians gave to the white men. This time the white men must give something to the Indians.

  An 1867 Harper’s Weekly wood engraving of train passengers shooting buffalo. This was a popular sport for train passengers, who usually left the dead buffalo to rot. [LOC, USZ62-cph-3b08935]

  Remembering that the president of the new commission, E. B. Taylor, was in Omaha, Maynadier suggested that Red Cloud send a message to Taylor over the telegraph wires. Red Cloud was suspicious. He did not entirely trust the magic of the talking wires. After some delay, he agreed to go with the colonel to the fort’s telegraph office. Through an interpreter, he dictated a message of peace and friendship to the Great Father’s counselor in Omaha.

  Commissioner Taylor’s reply came clicking back: “The Great Father at Washington … ​wants you all to be his friends and the friends of the white man. If you conclude a treaty of peace, he wishes to make presents to you and your people as a token of his friendship.” A trainload of supplies would arrive at Fort Laramie in early June, and he suggested a treaty-signing ceremony be held then.

  Red Cloud was impressed. He also liked Colonel Maynadier’s straightforward manner. He could wait until the Moon When the Grass Is Up (June) for the treaty signing. This would give him time to go back to the Powder River and send out runners to all the scattered bands of Sioux, Cheyenne, and Arapaho. It would also give the Indians time to gather more buffalo hides and beaver skins for trading when they came down to Fort Laramie.

  As a goodwill gesture, Maynadier issued small amounts of ammunition to the departing Oglalas, and they rode away in fine good humor. Nothing had been said by Maynadier about opening the Bozeman Trail. Nothing had been said by Red Cloud about Fort Reno, the former Fort Connor, which was still under siege on the Powder. These subjects could be postponed until the treaty council.

  Red Cloud did not wait for the grass to come up. In 1866, he returned to Fort Laramie in the Moon When the Ponies Shed (May), and he brought with him his chief lieutenant, Man-Afraid-of-His-Horses, and more than 1,000 Oglalas. Dull Knife brought in several lodges of Cheyennes, and a Brulé named Red Leaf arrived with his band. Together with Spotted Tail’s people and the other Brulés, they formed a great camp along the Platte River.

  A few days later, the peace commissioners arrived, and on June 5 the formal proceedings began, with the usual long orations by commission members and
the various Indian leaders. Then Red Cloud unexpectedly asked for a few days’ delay while they awaited the arrival of other Tetons who wanted to participate in the discussions. Commissioner Taylor agreed to adjourn the council until June 13.

  By a trick of fate, June 13 was the day Colonel Henry B. Carrington and 700 officers and men of the 18th Infantry Regiment reached Fort Laramie. The regiment had marched from Fort Kearney, Nebraska, and was under orders to establish a chain of forts along the Bozeman Trail in preparation for the expected heavy travel to Montana during the summer. Although plans for the expedition had been under way for weeks, none of the Indians invited to attend the treaty signing had been told about this military occupation of the Powder River country.

  To avoid friction with the 2,000 Indians camped around Fort Laramie, Carrington halted his regiment four miles east of the post. Standing Elk, one of the Brulé chiefs who had come in during the winter, saw them and rode over to the camp to find out why they were there. After Standing Elk and Carrington had gone through the greeting formalities, Standing Elk asked bluntly, “Where are you going?”

  Carrington, known to the Indians as Little White Chief and speaking through his interpreter, replied that he was taking his troops to the Powder River country to guard the road to Montana.

  “There is a treaty being made in Laramie with the Sioux that are in the country where you are going,” Standing Elk told him. “You will have to fight the Sioux warriors if you go.”

  Carrington said he was going not to make war on the Sioux but only to guard the still-blockaded Bozeman Trail through the Powder River country.

  “They will not sell their hunting grounds to the white men for a road,” Standing Elk insisted. “They will not give you the road unless you whip them.” He added quickly that he was a Brulé, that he and Spotted Tail were friends of the white men, but that Red Cloud’s Oglalas and the Minneconjous would fight any white men who came north of the Platte.