"Has your regiment got the route for the front yet, lieutenant?" I inquired.
"Some of it," he replied in a thick German accent, without removing his pipe. "Our battalion should have it already, but 'tis always the vay, Got tamn the luck! 'tis alvays the vay!"
"I guess 'twill be all right in a day or two, lieutenant!" I remarked.
"Vell, may be so, but they're always slighting the 3d Cavalry, at headquarters. Ve ought to have moved a Veek ago. "
OR THE CONQUEST OF THE SIOUX
"I saw General Crook at Omaha, and he said he would be at Fetterman by the 15th."
"You don't zay so? Then ve get off. Veil, dat is good. Are you in the army ?"
"No; I am going out as correspondent for the Chicago Times."
"Veil, I am so glad to meet von. My name is Von Leutwitz. The train is going. Good-bye. We shall meet again."
We did meet again, and, to anticipate somewhat, under circumstances the reverse of pleasant for the gallant, but unfortunate, lieutenant, who, after having campaigned over Europe and America, and having fought in, perhaps, a hundred pitched battles, lost his leg at Slim Buttes fight on the following 9th of September.
The train proceeded slowly, toiling laboriously up the ever-increasing grade toward Cheyenne, through a still bare and dismal landscape. Early in the afternoon we passed the long snow sheds, and, emerging from them, beheld toward the southwest, the distant summits of Long's and Gray's peaks of the Rocky mountains. Less than an hour brought us to Cheyenne, which is only three miles from Fort D. A. Russell, my immediate objective point. As at Sidney, the railroad platform was crowded with soldiers and citizens, many of the latter prospectors driven from the southern passes of the Black Hills of Dakota, by the hostile Indians. I "put up" at an inviting hotel, and was greatly interested in the conversation around me. All spoke of "the Hills," of the Indian hostilities, and of the probable result of the contemplated military expedition.
WAR-PATH AND BIVOUAC
As I was well acquainted in Cheyenne, I had little difficulty in making myself at home., Nobody seemed to know when the expedition would start, but all felt confident that there would be "music in the air" before the June roses came into bloom. At a book store, with the proprietor of which I was on friendly terms, I was introduced to Col. Guy V. Henry, of the 3d Cavalry. He was, then, a very fine-looking, although slight and somewhat pale, officer, and, what was still better, he was well up in all things concerning the projected Indian campaign.
"We will march from this railroad in two columns," said he. "One will form at Medicine Bow, ninety miles or so westward, and will cross the North Platte Paver at Fort Fetterman. The other will march from Fort Russell to Fort Laramie, cross the North Platte there, and march by the left bank, so as to join the other column in front of Fetterman. This I have heard not officially, but on sufficiently good authority. From Fetterman we will march north until we strike the Indians. That is about the programme."
I asked the colonel's advice in regard to procuring a horse, and was soon in possession of a very fine animal, which subsequently met with a tragical fate in the wild recesses of the Big Horn mountains. Colonel Henry's "mess" being full, a circumstance that he and I mutually regretted, I made arrangements with a captain of the 3d Cavalry to join his, and, having thus provided for the campaign, I set about enjoying, myself as best I could until the hour for marching would strike. Cheyenne, in 1876, still
OR THE CONQUEST OF THE SIOUX
preserved most of the characteristics of a crude frontier town. Gambling was openly practiced, by day as well as by night, and the social evil, of the very lowest type, was offensively visible wherever the eye might turn. No respectable maid or matron ventured out unattended after nightfall, while occasional murders and suicides "streaked the pale air with blood."
Notwithstanding these almost inevitable drawbacks, there were then, as there are now, level heads, and loyal hearts, in Cheyenne, and I can never forget the many pleasant evenings I spent there in company with some officers of the Fort Russell garrison, and such distinguished citizens as Editors Swan and Glascke, Col. Luke Murrin, Dr. Whitehead, Sheriff O'Brien, Messrs. French, Harrington, Dyer, MacNamara, Miller, Haas and many other "right good fellows," who will ever live in my grateful remembrance. I believe that all of the gentlemen mentioned, with the exception of Mr. MacNamara, still survive. If I have omitted the names of any of the friends of that period, the omission, I can assure my readers, is entirely unintentional, for a manlier, more generous or hospitable group of men it has rarely been my good fortune to encounter.
On the 12th or 13th of May, it was known that General Crook and his staff had arrived during the night, but were off on the wings of the wind, overland, to Fort Laramie in the morning. Captain Sutorius, with whom I had arranged to mess, sent me word, on the 14th, that the command was under orders, and that I had better take up my residence at Fort Russell during the night. Messrs. Dyer
WAR-PATH AND BIVOUAC
and MacNamara insisted on taking my "traps" to the Fort in a spring wagon, drawn by a spirited horse. I rode on horseback beside them. Just as we neared the entrance of the parade ground, their beast took fright and ran away with great skill and energy. I attempted in vain to keep up with the procession. In front of the quarters of Captain Peele, of the 2d Cavalry, an officer who has since suffered many misfortunes, the wagon was upset. MacNamara, a pretty heavy man, described the arc of a circle in the air, and fell upon the crown of his head. His high hat was crushed down upon his face, and he presented a ludicrous spectacle enough, but, most fortunately, he escaped serious injury, and relieved his feelings by thundering anathemas against the runaway animal, and all concerned in the catastrophe. Dyer was thrown out also, and suffered a gash over the eye-brow, the scar of which still remains. My effects were strewn all over Fort Russell, and half a dozen orderlies were, by the courtesy of Captain Peele and other officers, engaged for some time in picking them up. I have since learned the wisdom and the beauty of moving in light marching order. Both Captains Peele and Sutorius treated us most kindly, and, in view of their subsequent misfortunes, I feel bound to bear witness that on that occasion, as on many others, they showed that their hearts were in the right place, although their heads might be sometimes weak.
Next day I called upon the commandant of the fort, Gen. J. J. Reynolds, colonel of the 3d Cavalry, who received me with that courteous bearing so characteristic of the American regular officer. He spoke pleasantly of the
OR THE CONQUEST OF THE SIOUX
approaching campaign, but regretted that he personally could have no part in it. He did not say why, but I understood perfectly that he and the department commander, General Crook, were not on good terms, owing to a disagreement relative to Reynolds' action during the short Crazy Horse village campaign of the preceding March. Reynolds stormed the village, but was unable to retain it, and, in his retreat, the Indians attacked his rear guard and stampeded the pony herd of 800 horses he had captured. General Crook held that General Reynolds ought to have shot the ponies rather than allow them to fall again into the hands of their savage owners. A court martial grew out of the controversy, but nothing serious came of it, as far as I can remember, and General Reynolds was soon afterward, at his own request, placed upon the retired list of the army.
As I was taking my leave, General Reynolds said: "As you have not been out after Indians previously, allow an old soldier to give you this piece of advice—Never stray far from the main column, and never trust a horse or an Indian."
I promised to follow the General's advice as closely as possible, and made my adieux. Orders had readied the Fort that the troops were to move to Fort Laramie on the morning of the 17th, and all felt grateful that the period of inaction was almost at an end.
Before giving my account of the famous campaign, I must briefly relate the causes that led to the great Indian War of 1876.
CHAPTER II.
THE BLACK HILLS FEVER
There had raged for many years