Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1937-01-14
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Original Data as to How Yellow
Hand "Bit the Dust"

|
Hand "Bit the Dust"
ONCE the passing of the
~ dime novel with which in
the dear, dead juvenile days I
was wont to while the time
away, it has been my habit to
poke around in search of his
torical works stepped in frontier
lore, Injun fighting, bad man BIZ
ographies, red handed gun play
ers born to trouble and pre-
pared to die with their boots on.
Any literature perfumed by black
powder, punctuated with the clash
of bowie knives and the rattle of
musketry popping in the cottonwood
was water on my wheel. Born in
Nebraska, a crossroad for Sioux,
Commanche, Cheyenne, Black Foot
and Apache, soldiers, cattlemen and
frontiersmen, I inhaled an at
mosphere filtered and refltered
through the nostrils of men who
wore cow-hide breeches and who
took their sleep standing.
/ was seven years old when
George Custer and his regiment
were wiped out at the Little Big
Horn massacre; heard white and
red men pile up the terrible de-
tails, listened to but did not fully
comprehend the preparations for
revenge. Via the grapevine tele-
graph of the prairies I heard more
than I should, more than my ia
Their, missionary among the Sioux
and Cheyenne, knew had reached
my ears. Chief Gall, Rain-in-the-
Face, Crazy Horse, Sitting Bull,
Red Cloud passed in the flesh and
in confusing rurnors along the Mis-
souri,, leaving me dumb with won
derment
Meets Old Indian Fighter.
remember with crystal clarity
the day Capt. Jack Crawford rode
into the mission on a spent horse
with the news that Buffalo Bill had
met the Cheyenne chieftain, Yellow
Hand, in mortal combat and killed
and scalped him. The memory of
that thrilling declaration remained
with me for many a year, definite,
reiterating, audible, like something
alive. 1t became the outstanding
memory of my boyhood. From Ne
braska, from which section I de-
parted for the Far West with my
folks in II, brought the vision of
Bill Cody's victory over the red In
dian. It marched with me like
living dream.
In later life I heard repeatedly
that the story of Codys meeting
with Yellow Hand was mere myth,
a wild tale of the frontier, unsup-
ported. The reiterated denial from
sources that seemed unimpeachable
depressed me.
All attempts at verifcation failed.
Many versions, none of them in
accord, appeared in books dealing
with the Indian wars. Obsessed with
the desire to find an eyewitness,
sought substantiation from any and
all living soldiers and civilians as
sociated with that era who crossed
my trail. Success crowned my per-
severance.
In the city of Boston, August, 1929,
at the invitation of friend, I called
upon Samuel Storrow Sumner, ma
jor-general of the United States
army, retired, totally blind, in his
seventy-eighth year and residing on
Beacon street. We talked of the
early days, the Indian uprisings and
the opening of the vast and fertile
country west of the Missouri In the
course of our conversation the gen.
eral mentioned Colonel Cody, the
Buffalo Bill of my boyhood.
Gets "LOw Down" on Fight.
Here perhaps was my long sought
eyewitness. els the story of his
killing Yellow Hand true?" I asked.
The aged and blind soldier came
suddenly to life, Shaping his thighs
with both hands.
Absolutely" he exclaimed, IT
saw the fight. After the Custer
massacre at Little Big Horn, Vel
low Hand, now chief of the Chey-
ennes, came down to War Bonnet
Creek to raid the wagons. Cody,
who was there with a band of
scouts, asked to 60 into action. Gen.
Wesley Merritt, who was in COM
mand, said he had no objection to
Cody, who was not officially of the
regular army, doing as he damned
well pleased. Bill wheeled his horse
and rode straight for Yellow Hand
at gallop. They came for each
other head on, both opening with
rifle fire at close range.
"When almost knee to knee Bill
shot Yellow Hand from his horse.
The Indian was dead when he hit
the ground. Bill dismounted, placed
his foot on Yellow Hands body and
waved signal that he was the vic
tor. Gen. Charles King was also
present. We were less than a hun
dred yards from the scene of the
battle. The dime novel writer's lost
no time making it appear that Bill
scalped the Cheyenne and waved
the bloody trophy aloft. That is not
true. But that Cody killed Yellow
Hand in hand-to-hand conflict YOU