Part 31

Seeing that they could do nothing with the troops, many of the Sioux broke into small bands and scattered. Two thousand of them, however, came in on the third day and surrendered. Sitting Bull refused to think of such a measure, and, making for the Canadian boundary line, rode off into British territory. His depleted and starving camp was subsequently attacked, in mid-winter, by a detachment under Lieutenant Baldwin, and was still further crippled. Game to the last, he threw himself upon the protection of England, crossed the Canadian line, and lived for some years in peaceful security.

At last, realizing that he would be better off in his old hunting grounds, he returned to the United States and surrendered to the army. A large territory was assigned to the Sioux as a reservation, and an Indian agency established at Pine Ridge, in South Dakota. This place became the rallying point for the scattered bands of Sioux who still looked to Sitting Bull for counsel. Supported in idleness by the Government, and occasionally exhibiting himself with Buffalo Bill's "Wild West Show," the noted chief lived for some time in great contentment. But within him slumbered a deep dislike and distrust of the whites. He was one of the prime movers of the Ghost Dance uprising in 1890, and, while resisting arrest, was killed by an Indian policeman. Peace to the aged counsellor and sachem of the Sioux!

Crazy Horse had still one more fight in him before he, too, was forced to capitulate.

Late in December of 1876, Miles started after this gallant fighter, who was supposed to be in the valley of the Tongue River, south of the Yellowstone. He found his village not far from the place where Crook had battled on the Rosebud. There were between eight and nine hundred warriors posted on the cliffs surrounding a valley of the Wolf Mountains,--a spur of the Big Horn Range. The position was a good one, because the soldiers had to scale some bristling heights to get at the savages, but they were equal to the emergency.

"You have had your last breakfast," shouted the red warriors as the soldiers began to climb up to their position. "You will not eat again." But they did not know with whom they were dealing. Undaunted by the superior position of the red men, and unfrightened by their jeers, the soldiers crept up the face of the cliffs, as the shells from their artillery exploded among the followers of the gallant Crazy Horse. The bluffs were icy and snow-covered. It was rough work to scale them; it was only accomplished after slow, dogged, determined crawling, with a halt every moment or so to fire at some Indian above. The plunging shots of the savages did little damage, for their aim was unsteady. The red men clung to their post tenaciously, but they were routed--driven off--and forced back upon the plateau in the rear. Snow was now falling, and the combatants fired at each other in a blinding blizzard.

This was the last stand of Crazy Horse and his band, for their ammunition was about gone, and, not possessing the knowledge necessary to manufacture more, they were unable to prolong their resistance. Their confederates were nearly all captured. Sitting Bull was miles away and could not be reached. The Brulé Sioux and Unkpapas had surrendered. Their supplies were in the hands of General Miles and his men. Their fate was sealed.

In the early spring Crazy Horse surrendered, with the remnant of his once formidable band of frontier fighters. He was placed in a reservation of the Brulé Sioux at the Red Cloud Agency. "He did not surrender with the humility of a defeated, broken-spirited chief," Major-General Jesse W. Lee has written me. "He was an unsubdued warrior; a great soldier chief; and had come in to make such terms as would bring peace and rest to his people, who had scarcely known defeat under his valiant leadership. To his mind there was no _unconditional surrender_ about it. He was willing, for a time, to give up the uncertain buffalo for the certain Agency beef; to exchange the old, worn-out skin lodges for new and handsome army duck."

But Crazy Horse chafed under the restraints of the agency. He was restless, uneasy and unsatisfied with the tame conditions which he found. He was watched by detectives and was closely guarded, but one day escaped and came to Spotted Tail: another rendezvous of the Sioux, forty miles away. Trouble was feared from him, and what subsequently occurred is best told in the language of General Lee, who was there at the time, in charge of the Brulé Sioux at Spotted Tail Agency in Northwestern Nebraska. He says:

"We soon called the chiefs together and told them that probably some trouble might occur at Red Cloud, but it must not affect them, and for all to remain perfectly quiet and have no fear. We then had only to wait! Imagine, if you please, being compelled to sit down over a powder magazine, with sparks flying around, and wondering how long it would be until the blow-up comes. We felt certain an explosion _would_ occur, but uncertain as to the hurt it might do. Well, we had not long to wait! About 4 P.M. _an Indian courier arrived in the Northern camp_--_not to us!_--his quivering horse all white with foam,--with the startling news that their friends were fighting at Red Cloud, and that the troops were coming to Spotted Tail Agency.

"The old scout, Joe Merivale, well known and respected by the Northern Indians, had been sent to their camp with some reliable Agency chiefs, to meet just this contingency and allay excitement. By dint of hard effort they were succeeding fairly well, when Black Crow came to us and said, "_Crazy Horse is in the Northern camp!_" This came like a clap of thunder from a clear sky. Could it be possible, after all the precautions, spies, detectives, and the large force of troops and Indian allies, that the one man of all others they wished to secure _had made good his escape and had come to our Agency_?

"The arrival of the Indian courier from the Indians had produced intense excitement, but when he was soon followed by Crazy Horse, there was a wild scene, beggaring description. The bold warrior, the venerated hero of his band, who had ever led them to victory, was in the midst of devoted friends, and to them a hunted victim of rank injustice and cruel persecution.

"All the tepees in that camp came down with magic swiftness, and had it not been for White Thunder, and other loyal Brulés, a stampede would have resulted at once; merciless slaughter of unsuspecting whites on the line of flight would probably have followed, and another Indian war inaugurated.

"The 'reliables' surrounded and harangued the camp and restored some degree of quiet. Word was sent to the Indians under Touch the Clouds, to bring Crazy Horse to the Post. Major Burke, Dr. Koerper and myself, with an interpreter, started for the Northern camp, about three miles from the Post. When over half way out, we met over three hundred armed Indians in good line of battle, not so much _guarding_ as _escorting_ Crazy Horse, in the direction of the Post. There were war bonnets and war shirts in profusion, and had it not been for a score or more of 'reliables,' intermingled with the three hundred, we might have had serious trouble. Touch the Clouds was on one side of the great warrior and the brave, handsome White Thunder on the other, with the austere and desperate Black Crow just in the rear. Just here I would add that White Thunder and Black Crow had determined to shoot Crazy Horse, should he make a break.

"We took Crazy Horse to the Post, or I would better say, he and his three hundred friends were taking _us_ there. Just as we reached the little parade ground of Camp Sheridan, Spotted Tail, able planner that he was, arrived from another direction, with not less than three hundred of his trusty Brulé soldiers, all armed with good breech loaders, principally Winchesters. This number, with more who joined soon after, gave good solid backing, and, with our ninety soldiers at quarters, ready to aid at a moment's notice,--turned the scale and kept it safely in our favor. As if by intuition, these forces of Indians formed on either side of a walk, leaving a small space, about 6' × 8', in the center. It was a wild, weird scene; and had the spectacle been for display, it would have been grand beyond compare, but, as it meant most serious business, and was fraught with danger, every nerve was under the severest strain. For once, Crazy Horse realized that his prestige had forsaken him; for once he was in the presence of one whose mastery he dare not, then and there, dispute. Spotted Tail, the coolest man of all the assembled hundreds, in the plain, Indian blanket garb, without any insignia of chieftainship, stepped into the little arena, and in a few words, delivered in a clear, ringing voice, with dignity and eloquence, addressed Crazy Horse, who was almost within touch: 'We never have trouble here; the sky is clear; the air is still and free from dust! You have come here and you must listen to me and my people! _I_ am chief here. We keep the peace. We, the Brulés, do this! _They_ obey me! and every Indian who comes here must listen to me! You say you want to come to this Agency and live peaceably. If you stay here, you must listen to me. That is all!'

"It is hard to justly render an Indian speech, especially on such an occasion; but had you heard its telling points and pauses, emphasized and punctuated by the click of loaded rifles, you would have thought it one of the most effective speeches ever delivered. Its conclusion was greeted with four hundred vociferous 'hows.' One frenzied Northern Indian, believing his friend Crazy Horse was to be harmed, wanted to sacrifice himself in his place. He caught hold of Major Burke's arm and excitedly exclaimed: 'Crazy Horse is brave, but he feels too weak to die today. Kill me! Kill me!' The Brulé guns were already loaded, and had a shot been fired, serious trouble would have begun.

"After a few more words, and as night was coming on, the crowds dispersed, and we got Crazy Horse into Major Burke's quarters to have a talk. He seemed like a frightened, trembling, wild animal, brought to bay, hoping for confidence one moment and fearing treachery the next. He had been under a severe nervous strain all day, and it plainly showed.

"Before proceeding with what was the last talk or council, let me go back a little. Soon after we heard Crazy Horse had reached our Agency, a courier arrived from Red Cloud with the following message from Clark: 'Dear Lee:--There has been no fight. Crazy Horse's band is just going into camp and will give up their guns without trouble, in all probability. Crazy Horse has skipped out for your place. Have sent after him. Should he reach your Agency, have "Spot" arrest him, and I will give any Indian who does this, $200.' Soon thereafter, a squad of fifteen or twenty Indian scouts arrived from Red Cloud, having been sent after Crazy Horse to arrest and take him back. It was understood then, and afterwards known to be a fact, that they overtook Crazy Horse as he was riding along quite leisurely with his sick wife, and when they asked him to go back with them, the prestige of his name and warlike deeds overawed them when he said: '_I am Crazy Horse. Don't touch me! I'm not running away!_'

"At our talk in Major Burke's quarters, Crazy Horse seemed to realize his helplessness. We assured him we had no reason to do him any hurt; and he promised, almost at the outset, to go with me next day to Camp Robinson.

"The best solution of the matter was to get Crazy Horse back to Red Cloud safely and quietly; let him make his talk there with the authorities, who could decide what should be done as to granting or refusing his desire for transfer to our Agency. He said he wanted to get away from trouble, that he had brought his sick wife to be treated and came for that purpose only. I told him I would remember what he said and repeat his words to the authorities at Robinson. Several of the chiefs were held responsible, under a binding Indian pledge, for Crazy Horse's safe keeping during the night and his reporting to Major Burke next morning at nine o'clock.

"Crazy Horse reported at the appointed time next morning and said he had changed his mind about going back to Red Cloud, because he 'was afraid something would happen.' He asked us to go down without him and fix up the matter for him and his people. We assured him we had no thought of harming him in any way; that he owed it to his people at Red Cloud to return, and we insisted upon his return peaceably and quietly, to which he agreed upon the following express conditions, which, under the circumstances, Major Burke and I felt we had a perfect right to make: first, that neither Crazy Horse nor myself should take any arms; second, that I would state to the Soldier Chief at Red Cloud all that had occurred at Spotted Tail Agency, and that if Crazy Horse had made a statement of the facts, I would say to the Soldier Chief that Major Burke, Spotted Tail and I were willing to receive him by transfer from Red Cloud, if the District Commander so authorized; that Crazy Horse should make his statement to the Soldier Chief as to what occurred, how 'he had been misunderstood and misinterpreted; that he wanted peace and quiet, and did not want any trouble whatever.'

"We made Crazy Horse no promise that he would be transferred to Spotted Tail Agency, because _we_ knew and _he_ knew that could be settled only by the higher authority at Red Cloud. Boiled down to a simple statement, our promise to Crazy Horse was that he should be _heard_ on his own behalf, upon arrival at Red Cloud. On this condition, he was willing to return peaceably, and with Major Burke's express consent, _I guaranteed its fulfillment_.

"Crazy Horse asked to ride horseback, which request was granted. We started from the Northern camp about 10.30 on the morning of September 5th. In the ambulance with me were Louis Bordeau, the interpreter, Black Crow and Swift Bear, two reliable Agency chiefs, and High Bear and Touch the Clouds, Crazy Horse's friends. By consent, seven Northern Indians went along to see fair play, but Good Voice and Horned Antelope, two 'reliables,' rode with Crazy Horse, to take care of him and prevent his escape.

"When about fifteen miles out, small parties of Spotted Tail's Indian soldiers began to arrive, and when half way, about twenty miles, I had over forty reliable Indian soldiers. Crazy Horse then realized that he was practically a prisoner.

"At one time, Crazy Horse dashed ahead and disappeared for a moment over the brow of a hill one hundred yards away. 'Twas here he probably obtained a knife of an Indian family stampeding to Spotted Tail. He was soon overhauled and said he went ahead only to water his horse. He was then directed to ride immediately in the rear of my ambulance, and he saw at once he was closely guarded. He seemed nervous and bewildered, and his serious expression showed clearly he was doubtful of the outcome. He said but little, but his appealing looks seemed to ask, 'Is this treachery?' Ignorant of what was in store for him, I tried to reassure his friends by telling them not to worry, that I would do exactly as had been promised, present his case, and he could be heard also.

"When within fifteen miles of Red Cloud, I sent a note to Clark by a swift Indian courier, asking whether I should take Crazy Horse to Post or Agency. I also stated briefly and explicitly that we had to use tact and discretion in securing Crazy Horse without precipitating serious trouble, and that we had promised him that he should be heard by the Commanding Officer, or the 'Soldier Chief,' when we reached Red Cloud, and I requested that arrangements be made accordingly.

"When within four miles of Red Cloud, I received this answer, in writing: 'Dear Lee:--General Bradley wishes you to drive direct to his office with Crazy Horse. Yours, Clark.'

"I had built the post and knew that the C. O.'s office was next the guard house. This brief note, being silent as to the important parts of my request, signified to my mind that Crazy Horse was to be put in the guard house, but still I hoped that _he would be allowed to say a few words_, at least, _which would redeem the promise we had made in good faith_.

"We proceeded to the post, my Indians on either side of the ambulance, with pieces ready for instant use, and Crazy Horse in the center. Upon arriving at the C. O.'s office, I was met by the Adjutant, who informed me that General Bradley directed that Crazy Horse be turned over to the officer of the day. I said: '_No, not yet!_' and asked if Crazy Horse could say a few words to the C. O. before this was done. I was referred to the General. I had Crazy Horse dismount, go into the office and sit down, and Swift Bear, Touch the Clouds, High Bear, Black Crow and Good Voice went in with him. I stationed an Indian soldier at the door with orders to admit no one while I was away. I then went to the General's quarters, some 200 yards distant, and in earnest and respectful language preferred my request, and he informed me, in no doubtful terms, that ''twas no use! The orders were peremptory; he could not change them; General Crook himself could not change them, and nothing further need be said, and the sooner I turned over Crazy Horse the better!' I tried to explain what had been done; just what had been promised in securing Crazy Horse, to all of which the General said: 'It's too late to have any talk.' I replied: '_Can he be heard in the morning?_' The General looked at me steadily for an instant, but did not answer. I was again ordered to deliver Crazy Horse to the officer of the day, and 'tell him to go with the officer of the day and not a hair of his head should be harmed."

"General Bradley was every inch a soldier. An order to him was law and gospel and met with prompt, undeviating obedience, and woe betide the one who dared question, evade or fail in obeying _his orders_. I knew the General too well to attempt to prolong the interview. I felt that as it must be done, ''twere well 'twere quickly done,' yet, as I retraced my steps to the office, I had a glimmering hope that on the _morrow_ Crazy Horse might be heard and the promise thus redeemed. I told Crazy Horse '_the night was coming on_ and the Soldier Chief said it was too late for a talk; that he said for him to go with the officer of the day and he would be taken care of and not a hair of his head would be harmed.'

"At the conclusion of my message, the chiefs uttered a joyous 'how!' Crazy Horse's face lighted up hopefully, and he stepped quickly across the room to the door and took the officer of the day, Captain Kennington, warmly by the hand. _My_ duty, my _military_ duty, was done, but I took Touch the Clouds and High Bear, Crazy Horse's friends, to one side to explain to them, as best I could, the unexpected turn affairs had taken, and how it was I had nothing more to do with the matter and that I was entirely subject to higher authorities there.

"Crazy Horse willingly went along with Captain Kennington, closely followed by two soldiers of the guard with side arms, straight to the guard house and into the main door. When he reached the prison room, he saw the dungeon cells, the small grated window, and some prisoners in irons, it was said. Across the puzzled brain of this Indian leader, whose life had been free as the wind, there no doubt flitted the terrible thought of prison chains and ignominious death. He was, then and there, at last brought face to face with what the white man had in store for him. To his mind, abandoned by his friends, alone, betrayed, and surrounded by a score or more of his armed enemies, he sprang, with the desperation of an infuriated tiger, into the main guard room, and drawing from his clothing a long, glittering knife, attempted to plunge it into Captain Kennington, but the Captain's drawn sword diverted this purpose; he then sprang outside, striking right and left and struggling to make his way to where his seven friends were.

"At this juncture, Little Big Man, an erstwhile friend and comrade of Crazy Horse, appeared on the scene. He seized Crazy Horse by the arm and attempted to force him to the ground. The great chief, even in his frenzy, was too magnanimous to plunge the knife into the heart of Little Big Man, but merely punctured his arm to free himself from his treacherous grasp. He then tried hard to kill a soldier of the guard who blocked his way. Swift Bear, Black Crow and Fast Thunder caught him, and in the struggle Captain Kennington called out: _'Kill him! Kill him!_' and just then an Infantry soldier of the guard made a successful lunge and Crazy Horse fell, mortally wounded, with a deep bayonet thrust in his right side.

"The friendly Indians prevented Crazy Horse's friends from firing on the guard. All the Indians were taken by surprise, and upon the pressing appeal and earnest demand of his friends, Crazy Horse was carried into the office from whence he came.

"Confusion followed; troops turned out, and pandemonium seemed to have broken loose in the Indian camps. Even the friendlies, though they disliked Crazy Horse, were not pleased with the result, and there was not much that could then be explained to their satisfaction.

"Crazy Horse's uncle at once sought to take revenge, but two friendlies caught and led him away. Touch the Clouds asked permission to take Crazy Horse to an Indian lodge and let him die there, but it was refused. He then asked to remain in the office with him, and that was granted on condition that he give up his gun. I recall his remarkable reply: '_You_ are many. _I_ am only one. _You_ may not trust _me_, but _I_ will trust _you_! You can _take_ my gun!'

"Crazy Horse's old father and mother were also allowed to remain with him. About 10 P.M. Touch the Clouds sent word that Crazy Horse wished to see me before he died. I went to the office. Crazy Horse was lying on the floor, as he desired. He took my proffered hand and said between his dying moans, 'My friend, I don't blame _you_ for this; had I listened to you, this trouble would not have happened to me.' He died at midnight, and thus passed away the restless, untamed spirit of as brave an Indian chief as ever drew a bow or wore a moccasin.

"After his death I was informed, and the statement is, I believe, in the official reports, that he had threatened to kill General Crook, should the General scold or speak roughly to him, at a proposed council to be held at Crazy Horse's camp, some days prior to this trouble. General Crook was on his way in an ambulance to the camp for the talk, when one of the scouts, or some one who was watching Crazy Horse, met him with news of this impending danger, and the General returned to the post without meeting Crazy Horse. This _may_ have all been true, but whether it was merely an idle threat, announced in a spirit of bravado, or if made and meant, he would have sought an excuse to carry it into execution can never be known.

"A field officer of Cavalry, then a Captain, informed me that his troop was detailed to take Crazy Horse from the guard house that night at midnight and push on rapidly to the railroad, and from there he was to be sent as a prisoner to the Dry Tortugas.

"When he died, Touch the Clouds shook hands with all present, thus showing he had no bad heart toward anyone.