Conclusion
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Source: North American Indian
Edward S. Curtis (1907) |
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Ghost Dancer - Part 3
General Custer
listens as the Crow scouts describe the scene at Greasy Grass River, and then
musters his forces.
“Varnum, these
scouts say they saw the village from this place they call Crow’s Nest. Go there now with
them, and look. Send word back. I will follow.”
The group leaves to make the journey back to the outcropping
where Many Eagle Feathers, White Swan, and Curley saw the village below.
On the morning of
the second day, Varnum sends two Arikara scouts ahead.
“Ride past the village,”
he instructs them. “See if there are any more to be found.”
Just after breaking
camp that day, Varnum and his scouts come upon something in a large clearing that the scouts
understand all too well.
“Built for sun
dance,” Curley says, indicating two large circles of brush.
“Here they pray for
victory, and make warriors -- many warriors -- ready for battle.” He waves his
arms to encompass the two large circles
as he speaks.
Unimpressed, Varnum commands, "Move on."
The group rides
past the circles and as they enter the trail just beyond, one of the Arikara scouts
says, “Look.”
He points to the
edge of the trail, where a coup stick is shoved into the ground. The stick is
adorned with feathers, and something else.
“Look,” the Arikara
says again. “It bears fresh white man's scalp.”
“They pass here
with this sun,” Goes Ahead says.
“We must be getting
close.” Varnum comments as his spurs his horse forward. “Let’s keep moving.”
It's not long
before the party spots smoke drifting toward the sky and they know the
village is ahead. They ride closer and when they reach Crow’s Nest, they
dismount and look below. There are still not many men to be seen in the large encampment.
Varnum turns to Reynolds.
“Ride back and tell General Custer what we’ve seen. Make haste. We'll pull
back to the clearing with the circles and wait for orders."
As Varnum’s group
heads back to the clearing, they are joined by the two returning Arikara
scouts.
“Well, did you find
anything?” Varnum demands.
“No warriors,” one
scout replies. “But many horses. 1,000 horses.”
***
The scouts are surprised when the white leader arrives at the clearing with a much smaller
group of soldiers than they had left at Yellowstone River. They stand listening
as Custer and the white officers kneel on the ground around a hand-drawn map,
discussing strategy. Custer explains that he has broken up the regiment,
sending two smaller groups in different directions under Major Reno and Captain
Benteen. His intention is to surround the village.
“They are poorly
defended,” Custer declares. “Now is the time to attack.”
“You must have more warriors,” Curley advises. “Bring your soldiers together. They are too
many for a broken army to defeat.”
“Nonsense,” Custer
replies, his scorn for the red men he relies on for intelligence evident. “You’ve seen the village for yourself.”
He turns to his
officers, and says “Ready your men. We attack immediately, as they sleep.
As the soldiers prepare
to ride, the scouts move to one side of the clearing to talk.
“We attack
immediately, and we die before dawn,” White Man Runs Him said.
White Man Runs Him
had been the first of the Apsáalooke to volunteer to be a scout for the
cavalry. As was the custom, his clan changed his name amid much good natured
ribbing to suit his new status in life.
Today, White Man
Runs Him decides he will only run so far at the direction of the white man.
“If I am to die, I
do not die a man in silly clothes.” The scout removes his hat and jacket, and
throws them to the ground. “I will die a
warrior.”
He opens one of the leather pouches hanging from his pack horse, and
begins to remove its contents. When the others see his
intent, they follow suit. In minutes, the seven Apsáalooke wear
full tribal battle dress. They move to one of the brush circles, and begin an
abbreviated version of the sun dance.
“Belay there!” An
angry voice reaches them, followed by a very angry General Custer.
“What are you
doing? Stop immediately. You are Army scouts.”
Calling on his
namesake for bravery, Many Eagle Feathers steps forward.
“General, leader of white warriors… We see death coming on the new sun. We do not die as ‘soldiers.’
We die as Apsáalooke warriors.”
Custer’s face glows
red. “Not in my Army, you don’t!” he snaps. “Leave now. Report back to Fort
Snelling for reassignment. Your work here is done.”
And with that, he
spins on his heel and goes back to his troops.
The seven Apsáalooke
look at each other, and without a word, they mount their horses and ride out of
the clearing.
Once out of sight,
White Swan holds up an arm to stop his fellow scouts.
“Past Crow’s Nest,
quicker way.”
The others nod
assent and they turn their horses into the mountains.
As the seven ride
to Crow’s Nest, they cross a stream with two white men in it, missing their
uniforms and their scalps. White Swan nods as they pass.
“The white man
rides into the sunset of his day,” he says in a low voice.
When they reach
the Crow's Nest, the battle has begun below them. Despite the smoke of many dying fires, they can see that the small contingent of
soldiers with Custer has been quickly overrun by Sioux, many braves to every white man. None of the rest
of Custer’s regiment has reached the village from the other side to help, and the soldiers are helpless to defend themselves from the arrows, tomahawks, and rifles of the screeching Sioux warriors. Blood flows everywhere from downed men and horses.
As they view the carnage, Many
Eagle Feathers has a vision of the bishée herd running beside him, and
he hears the voice of his spirit guide.
He looks at his
brother Apsáalooke warriors and says, “I was made to this moment. The
Great Spirit has spoken. My sun is set.”
He turns and heads back
down the trail, riding hard.
***
The tattoo of the drums grows louder.
As the party
accompanying the travois slows, Many Eagle Feather’s
memories fade, and the drumbeats of this day fill
his head again.
The horse pulling
the travois comes to a stop in a weed-filled clearing near the top of the hill and the mourners separate into groups around it. The scene is unlike anything that any
of those present has ever seen before, let alone been a part of.
Several members of the tribe go to the travois and loosen
the straps. They carefully lift the body, which has been wrapped
in a bison robe and then a lodge skin of white-tanned deer.
|
Source: North American Indian
Edward S. Curtis (1907) |
With great
ceremony, they carry the body to a scaffolding built in the clearing and strap
it on securely, with the feet facing toward the east and the head toward the
west. Then they step back and the drumbeats stop.
There is a small
group of uniformed soldiers standing at attention at the sidelines. A man in
the uniform of the US Army 7th Cavalry breaks from the group and goes to stand in front of
the crude funeral bier. Colonel Henry Trostell was one of the first to walk
among the bodies the day after the battle at Greasy Grass River, or Little Bighorn
as it is called by the white man.
For a moment, he
stands at attention in front of the scaffolding, then he removes his hat and
says, “This man, Many Eagle Feathers, was a brave man and great warrior.”
He pauses as the voice of Wind
That Sings wails in sorrow. The
sound scares the infant secured to a cradle board on her
back, and Comes With Thunder begins to cry too. Teardrops stain the cheeks of most
members of the Many Eagle Feathers’ clan.
“We have come here to honor him. There were
over three hundred officers and troopers from the 7th Cavalry with
General Custer that day. It’s impossible to say with certainty how many were
killed, but the best estimate is 268, including General Custer himself.”
Colonel Trostell
pauses to brush tears from his own cheeks before continuing.
“One thing we know
for sure. Sixty-two of those men survived. Scouts who witnessed the massacre from above at Crow’s Nest reported that those survivors
owe their lives to Many Eagle Feathers. This scout had been relieved of his
duty at Little Bighorn, but he went back and fought the Sioux, pushing them back from a group
of wounded soldiers who would have surely been killed and scalped. He gave his
life in the process.”
The officer turns and
gestures to a cavalry trooper. The soldier steps forward, puts a
copper clarion to his lips, and blows a mournful song into a silence broken only by the sound of weeping.
When the bugler
steps back, the Apsáalooke drums begin again, joined by a wooden flute. As the drums continue, members of the tribe who have come to send the deceased on his
journey to the Great Spirit begin dancing around the scaffold and chanting the
song that tells the spirit he coming.
The spirit of Many
Eagle Feathers watches for a few moments. Then he
joins his clan and dances with them one more time, chanting his own death prayer.
.
My sun is set.
My day is done.
Darkness is stealing over me.
Shadows are long
and dark before me.