“Many of our warriors were following the soldiers up a hill
on the other side of the river. Everybody else was turning back
down stream, and on a hill away down yonder above the Santee
camp there was a big dust, and our warriors whirling around in
and out of it just like swallows, and many guns going off.[Custer had
attacked the camp at the northern end about four miles away].
I thought I would show my mother my scalp, so I rode over
toward the hill where there was a crowd of women and children.
On the way down there I saw a very pretty young woman among
a band of warriors about to go up to the battle on the hill, and
she was singing like this:
“Brothers, now your friends have come!
Be brave, be brave!
Wiuld you see me taken captive?”
When I rode through the Oglala camp I saw Rattling Hawk
sitting up in his tepee with a gun in his hands and he was all
alone there singing a song of regret that went like this:
“Brothers, what are you doing that I cannot do?”[he had been
severely wounded in the battle on the Rosebud].
When I got to the women om the hill they were all singing
and making the tremolo to cheer the men fighting across the
river in the dust on the hill. My mother gave a big tremolo just
for me when she saw my first scalp.
I stayed there awhile with my mother and watched the big
dust whirling on the hill across the river, and horses were
coming out of it with empty saddles.
Standing Bear Speaks:
I am a Minneconjou, and our camp was third from the south.
We got up late the morning of the fight. The women went out
to dig turnips and two of my uncles were hunting. My grandmother,
who was very old and feeble, and one of my uncles and
I stayed in a tepee. When the sun was overhead, I went back
down to the river to swim., and when I came back all I had on
was a shirt. My grandmother cooked some meat in the ashes and
fed us. While we were eating, my uncle said: “When you have
eaten, you must go to the horses right away. Something might
happen.” An older brother of mine and another man were herding
the horses in two bunches on Muskrat Creek down stream
below the Santee camp.
Before I finished eating, there was an excitement outside.
Then I heard our crier saying that the chargers were coming.
When we heard this, my uncle said: ‘I told you before that something
might happen. You’d better go right away and help bring
in the horses.”
I crossed the Greasy Grass, which was breast deep. and got
on top of Black Buttte to look. On the other side of the Hunkpapas
toward the south, I saw soldiers on horseback spreading out
as they came down a slope to the river. They crossed and came
on at a trot[he saw Reno advancing to the attack about four miles away].
I started down the butte, but I was barefoot and there was
a big bed of cactus there. I had to go slow, picking my way.
A dust cloud was rising up yonder; and then I could see that
the Hunkpapas were running, and when I looked over onto
the hills toward the south and east I saw other soldiers coming
there on horseback[evidently Custers detachment, coming to
attack at the northern end of the village]. I did not go to the horses.
I went down through the cactus as fast as I could and into the village.
There were voices all over, and everybody was shouting something
and running around. After awhile my older brother came driving
our horses, and my uncle said: “Hurry up! We shall go forth!”
I caught my gray horse and took my six-shooter and hung my
bow and arrows over my shoulder. I had killed a red bird a few
days before and I fastened this in my hair.I had made a vow that
I would make an offering if this would keep me from getting
hurt in the next fight; and it did.
We started and went down stream to the mouth of Muskrat Creek
beyond the Santee camp. We were going to meet the
second band of soldiers[Custer’s]. By the time we got there, they must
have been fighting on the hill already, because as we rode up east
from the mouth of Muskrat Creek we met a Lakota with blood
running out of his mouth and down over his horse’s shoulders.
His name was Long Elk. There were warriors ahead of us, the
“fronters”, who are the bravest and have had most practice in war.
I was sixteen years old and I was in the rear with the less
brave, and we had waited foe our horses quite awhile.
Part way up we met another Lakota. He was on foot and he
was bleeding and dizzy. He would get up and then he would fall
down again. When we got farther up the hill, I could see the soldiers.
They were off their horses, holding them by the bridles.
They were ready for us and were shooting. Our people were all
around the hill on every side by this time. I heard some of our
men shouting: “They are gone!” And I saw that many of the soldiers’
horses had broken loose and were running away. Everywhere our
warriors began yelling: Hoka Hey! Hurry! Hurry!”
Then we all went up, and it got dark with dust and smoke.
I could see warriors flying all around me like shadows, and the
noise of all those hoofs and guns and cries were so loud it seemed
quiet in there and the voices seemed to be on top of the cloud.
It was like a bad dream. All at once I saw a soldier right beside
me, and I leaned over and knocked him down with the butt of
the six-shooter. I think I had already shot it empty, but I don’t
remember when. The soldier fell off and was under the hoofs.
There were so many of us that I think we did not need guns.
Just the hoofs would have been enough.
After this we started down the hillside in formation toward
the village, and there were dead men and horses scattered along
there too. They were all rubbed out.
We were all crazy, and I will tell you something to show how
crazy we were. There was a dead Indian laying there on his face,
and someone said: “Scalp that Ree!” A man got off and scalped
him; and when they turned the dead man over, it was a Shyela–
one of our friends. We were all crazy.”
Excerpted from “Black Elk Speaks”,
as told through John G. Neihardt, author.
Publisher: University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln and London.
Islander. TO BE CONTINUED.