Black Elk Continues: “That is where the terrible thing started. Just south of the burying
ground on the little hill a deep dry gulch runs about east and
west, very crooked, and it rises westward to nearly the top of the
ridge where we were. It had no name, but the Wasichus some-
times call it Battle Creek now. We stopped on the ridge not far
from the head of the dry gulch. Wagon guns were still going off
over there on the little hill, and they were going off again where
they hit along the gulch. There was much shooting down yon-
der, and there were many cries, and we could see cavalrymen
scattered over the hills ahead of us. Cavalrymen were riding
along the gulch and shooting into it, where the women and chil-
dren were running away and trying to hide in the gullies and
the stunted pines.
A little way ahead of us, just below the head of the dry gulch,
there were some women and children who were huddled under
a clay bank, and some cavalrymen were there pointing guns
at them.
We stopped back behind the ridge, and I said to the others:
“Take courage. These are our relatives. We will try to get them
back.” Then we all sang a song which went like this:
“A thunder being nation I am, I have said. A thunder being nation I am. I have said. You shall live. You shall live. You shall live. You shall live.”
Then I rode over the ridge and the others after me, and we
were crying “Take courage! It is time to fight!” The soldiers who
were guarding our relatives shot at us and then ran away fast,
and some more cavalrymen on the other side of the gulch did
too. We got our relatives and sent them across the bridge to the
northwest where they would be safe.
I had no gun, and when we were charging, I just held the
sacred bow out in front of me with my right hand. The bullets
did not hit us at all.
We found a little baby lying all alone near the head of the
gulch. I could not pick her up just then, but I got her later and
some of my people adopted her. I just wrapped her up tighter
in a shawl that was around her and left her there. It was a safe
place, and I had other work to do.
The soldiers had run eastward over the hills where there were
some more soldiers, and they were off their horses and lying
down. I told the others to stay back, and I charged upon them
holding the sacred bow out toward them with my right hand.
They all shot at me, and I could hear bullets all around me, but I
ran my horse right close to them, and then swung around. Some
soldiers across the gulch began shooting at me too, but I got
back to the others and was not hurt at all.
By now many other Lakotas, who had heard the shooting,
were coming up from Pine Ridge, and we all charged on the sol-
diers. They ran eastward toward where the trouble began. We
followed down along the dry gulch, and what we saw was ter-
rible. Dead and wounded women and children and little babies
were scattered all along there where they had been trying to run
away. The soldiers had followed along the gulch, as they ran,
and murdered them in there. Some times they were in heaps be-
cause they had huddled together, and some were scattered all
along. Sometimes bunches of them had been killed and torn to
pieces where the wagon guns hit them. I saw a little baby trying
to suck its mother, but she was bloody and dead.
There were two little boys at one place in the gulch. They had
guns and they had been killing soldiers all by themselves. we
could see the soldiers they had killed. The boys were all alone
there and they were not hurt. They were very brave little boys.
When we drove the soldiers back, they dug themselves in,
and we were not enough people to drive them out from there.
In the evening they marched off up Wounded Knee Creek, and
then we saw all they had done there.”
Excerpted from “Black Elk Speaks”, as told through John G. Neihardt, author. Publisher: University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln and London.
Islander. TO BE CONTINUED: