Year: 1876




Village us told by General CUster.


One of the most interesting chapters
in Clusters "Life on the Plains is that
which deals with his attack on the In
dian villages on the Wachita. He says


Immediately in rear of my horse came
the band, all mounted, and each with his
instrument ready to begin playing the
moment their leader, who rode at their
head, and who kept his cornet to his
lips, should receive the signal. I had
previously told him to play " Garry
Owen" as the opening piece. We had
approached near enough to the village
now to plainly catch view here and
there of the tall, white lodges as they
stood in irregular order among the trees.
From the openings at the top of some OF
them we could perceive faint columns of
smoke ascending. the occupants NO
doubt having kept up their feeble fires
during the entire night. We had ap-
preached so near the village that flom
the dead silence which reigned feared
the lodges were deserted, the Indians
having fed before we advanced. I was
about to turn in my saddle and direct
the sip mai for attack to be given-still
anxious where the other detachments
were-when a single rifle shot rung
sharp and clear on the far side of the
village from where we were. Quickly
turning to the band leader I directed
him to give us "Garry Oven At once
the rollicking notes of that familiar
marching and fighting air sounded forth
through the valley, and in moment
we're re-echoed back from the opposite
sieds by the loud and continued
cheers of the men of the other de-
tachments,, who, true to their orders,
we're there and in readiness to
pounce upon the Indians the moment
the attack begun. In this manner the
battle Of the Wachita commenced. The
bugles sounded the charge, and the
entire command dashed rapidly into the
village. The Indians were caught nap
ping but, realizing at once the dangers
of their situation, they quickly over
came their surprise, and in an instant
seized their lifies, bows and arrows and
sprung behind the nearest trees, while
some leaped into the stream, nearly waist
deep, and, using the bank as rifle pit,
begun vigorous and determined de-
fense.


Mingled with the exultant cheers Of
my men could be heard the defiant
war whoop of the warriors, who from
the first fought with desperation and
courage which no race of men could
surpass. Major Benteen, in leading the
attack of his squadron through the
timber below the village, encountered
an Indian boy scarcely fourteen years of
age; he was well mounted, and was en-
deavoring to make his way through the
lines. This boy rode boldly toward the
major, seeming to invite contest. His
youthful bearing, and not being looked
upon as a combatant, induced Major
Benteen to endeavor to save him by
making "peace signs" to him and Oh
tanning his surrender, when he GOULD be
placed in position of safety until the
battle was terminated; but the young
savage desired and would accept no such
friendly concessions. He regarded him
self as q warrior and the son of war
rior, and as such proposed to do war
rior's part. With revolver in hand he
dashed at the major, who still could not
regard him as anything but harmless
lad. Leveling his weapon as he rode,
he fired, but .either from excitement or
the changing positions Of both parties,
his aim was defective and the shot whis-
tied harmlessly by Major Benteen's
head. Another followed in quick sue
cession, but with no better effsct. All
this time the dusky little chieftain bold
ly advanced, to lessen the distance be-
tween himself and his adversary. A
third bullet was sped on its errand, and
this time to some purpose, as it passed
through the neck of the majors horse,
close to the shoulder. Making a final
but Intellectual appeal to him to surren-
der, and seeing him still preparing to
fire again, the major was forced in self
defense to level his revolver and dis
patch him, although as he did so it was
with admiration for the plucky spirit
exhibited by the lad, and regret often
expressed that no other course under
the circumstances was left him. At
tached to the saddle bow of the young
Indian hung beautifully wrought pair
of small moccasins, elaborately orna-
mented with beads.


One party of troopers came upon a
squaw endeavoring to make her escape,
leading by the hand little white boy,
prisoner in the hands Of the Indians,
and who doubtless had been captured
by some of their war parties during a
raid upon the settlements. Who or
where his parents were, or whether still
alive or murdered by the Indians, will
never be known, as the squaw, finding
herself and prisoner about to be sur
rounded by the troops and her escape
cut off, determined with savage malig-
nifty that the triumph of the latter
should not embrace the rescue of the
white boy. Casting her eyes quickly in
all directions to convince herself that
escape was impossible, she drew from
beneath her blanket huge knife and
plunged it into the almost naked body
of her captive. The next moment
retributive justice reached her in the
shape of a well directed bullet from one
of the troopers carbines. Before the
men could reach them life was extinct in
the bodies of both the squaw and her
unknown captive.


The desperation with which the In
dams fought may be inferred from the
following Seventeen warriors had
posted themselves in depression in the
ground, which enabled them to protect
their bodies completely from the fire ol
our men, and it was only when the In