The two of them rode ahead, keeping a distance of two to three miles between themselves and the column behind. There was a quiet between them that they both felt. Squint couldn’t put his finger on it, but something told him that big trouble waited ahead of them. There was no physical sign. It was more like catching a faint aroma of sulphur just before lightning strikes.
“If I recollect, the Little Big Horn oughta be on the other side of that ridge,” Squint said, as they crossed a little saddle of land with a small stream cutting across it.
“I think you’re right,” Andy agreed. He glanced up at the late afternoon sun, which was sinking lower now. “Looks like maybe that ridge might be a good place to camp for the night. Whaddaya think?”
“Good a place as any. We got time enough to look around a little to make sure.”
When they were satisfied the ridge would provide a safe area to make camp, they rode back to meet the column and advise Colonel Custer of their recommendation for a campsite. The column settled in for the night, pickets were set and orders were given for a cold camp. This brought the usual groans and complaints. The men had ridden hard for two days and a hot meal would have gone a long way toward lifting morale.
* * *
On another river, some distance from Squint and Andy, Little Wolf watched a long blue line of soldiers in the distance, threading its way along the banks of the Tongue River. Their progress was slow due to the walk-a-heaps in the column. There were many mounted soldiers, but they could go no faster than those on foot could walk. This concept of war was puzzling to the Cheyenne. Did the army have so many soldiers but not enough horses? It made no sense to the Cheyenne Dog Soldier to go into battle on foot when a man on a horse could strike with the swiftness of the wind and cover more ground in a day than a man on foot could cover in three. As the column moved closer, Sleeps Standing moved quietly in beside Little Wolf and knelt behind the low bushes that shielded them from the army’s sight.
“There are many soldiers. These must be the soldiers the messenger warned us of, from the south.”
“Yes,” Little Wolf replied. “They follow the river but I don’t believe they know where the great Sioux village is. I think they are just searching for any band of Indians to kill.”
Bloody Claw left his position near the rim of a deep gully and made his way over to them. “There are too many. We are few. We must go back to the village and tell the others. We will need many braves to fight the soldiers.” As he spoke, he looked around him at the thirty or so Cheyenne warriors scattered in ambush, awaiting the soldiers. “We must report the presence of the soldiers to Two Moon.” He looked directly at Little Wolf as though he expected him to question his decision.
It amused Little Wolf that Bloody Claw still felt he was in competition with him for the position of leadership of the small band of Cheyenne warriors. “You are right, Bloody Claw. A battle with that many soldiers would be foolish for the few of us.”
“We must warn Two Moon,” Bloody Claw repeated.
Little Wolf watched the line of soldiers intently for a few minutes longer. Then he spoke again, “Perhaps Bloody Claw would like to give these blue coats a welcome to our hunting grounds before we leave to tell Two Moon.”
Thinking that Little Wolf was challenging his bravery, Bloody Claw quickly responded, “Yes, we can hide ourselves on both sides of the river and ambush them.” He thought for a moment then added, “We will have to send a messenger back to warn Two Moon since the soldiers are so many—they will surely kill us.” His eyes flashed with the fierce intensity of a man willing to give up his life for his people.
“Yes, it is a good day to die but there will be other good days. Would it not be better to kill some of the soldiers and then all of us will go back to warn Two Moon? Then we can return with our brothers and kill more soldiers.”
“You have a plan?”
Little Wolf rose to his feet, still sheltered by the clump of laurel he had crouched behind. He pointed toward the column of soldiers, now close enough that he could see the end of the long line. “Look, see how the horse soldiers and the wagons ride in front of the soldiers on foot? The walk-a-heaps look tired from eating the dust of the horses. If we keep all our warriors on this side of the river and wait until the horse soldiers and the wagons pass, then we could strike the walk-a-heaps from the side, before the horse soldiers at the rear could come to their aid. We will strike swiftly and then be gone before the horse soldiers can react. Then, when we tell Two Moon of the soldiers, we can also tell him that we have spilled blood and counted coup.” He paused while he waited for Bloody Claw’s reaction. “Do you approve?”
Bloody Claw could hardly disapprove unless he could offer a better plan. “Yes, I think it is a good plan. Where do you think we should wait for them?”
Little Wolf looked down toward the river. The ideal place would be at the bend of the river where the steep bluffs would dictate a change of direction away from the river in order to traverse them. Judging from the distance between the cavalry and the infantry, there would be several minutes’ time when the foot soldiers would be out of sight from those ahead. They could do a lot of damage in that several minutes’ span. “There,” he said.
Bloody Claw looked toward the spot pointed out by Little Wolf. “Yes,” he said. “That is the place I would have picked. Come. We must be ready.” He signaled the warriors. Little Wolf turned to go to his horse and found Sleeps Standing smiling at him. As they exchanged glances, Sleeps Standing nodded and winked.
The attack was swift and took the marching soldiers completely by surprise. Bloody Claw’s Cheyennes struck at the belly of the column of infantry, killing several soldiers and wounding many others before the cavalry was aware of the action. Upon Little Wolf’s suggestion, rifles were not used in the initial assault so the first casualties went down before a single shot was heard. When the soldiers began firing in defense, then the Indians used their rifles to return fire. By the time the rear guard galloped up to join the battle, the Cheyennes were already disappearing beyond the bluffs.
When they returned to the village, Bloody Claw and Little Wolf went to the tipi of Two Moon to report their encounter with the army troops. Two Moon listened intently as the two warriors reported the army strength and line of march.
“So it has begun,” Two Moon stated softly when Bloody Claw had finished with his account of the battle. “This is the great war that has been coming for a long time. I think this war will be the one that turns the white man back from our lands forever. Our warriors are ready to fight. We will show the soldiers that we will die before we give another grain of sand to them.” He looked at Little Wolf as he added, “If the soldiers are as many as you say, we will need many warriors to fight them.”
That night, Two Moon sat in council with Crazy Horse, the war chief of their allies, the Sioux. Crazy Horse was inflamed when told of the soldiers marching up the Tongue River. “I will bring my warriors and we will fight the soldiers together. We will flood the river with their blood!” After a long discussion, it was decided to meet the advancing army at the head of the Rosebud where the lay of the land would favor the expert Cheyenne and Dakota horsemen on their fleet and nimble ponies.
The next day was spent in preparation for battle. Little Wolf carefully applied bands of red and black paint on the Medicine Hat pony. In the morning, he would paint his own face with the same colors in the striped design he favored, a pattern that started on the bridge of his nose and ran across his cheeks to the tip of his earlobes. This day he cleaned and oiled his rifle and inspected his bow and arrows to make sure everything was in order. This done, he felt ready to go into battle. He would rest to preserve his strength after he had offered a prayer to Man Above and asked that he should be strong and fight well.
“Come, my friend. We will go to my tipi and rest and eat.” Sleeps Standing placed his arm on Little Wolf’s shoulder. “Perhaps you might sleep apart from Morning Sky tonight. My wife’s sister wishes you woul
d let her keep you warm.”
Little Wolf smiled. He knew Sleeps Standing worried about his physical needs, needs he himself had denied since his wife’s death. “The days are warm. I have felt no need to keep warm at night.”
Sleeps Standing was exasperated. “The summer nights may warm the outside of your body. A man must also warm the inside. This is not good that you deny your body of its needs.”
Little Wolf waved his friend’s protests aside. “Come, we will eat and rest. Do not worry about the inside of my soul.”
After they had eaten the meat and corn cakes that Sleeps Standing’s wife, Lark, and her young sister, Rain Song, had prepared for them, the two warriors sat before the fire and talked for a while. Inside the tipi, the women put away the cooking utensils and prepared the beds for sleeping. The sky had almost shed the last flickers of daylight and soon the camp would be clothed in darkness.
Little Wolf stared into the dying flames of the fire and it made him sad. He remembered sitting in front of Morning Sky’s cook fire as she cleaned up after the meal and prepared their bed for sleep. It had been a long time since she shared his bed and his life but it didn’t seem like that long. Maybe it was because whenever his thoughts were not occupied with fighting or hunting, they were almost always filled with memories of his wife. She was just a girl really, no more than a few years older than Rain Song when she was taken from him. As he thought of her, he could feel the rage building up inside him again, and he could visualize the images of the two murdering buffalo hunters who took her life. Their execution at his hand had not been enough to satisfy his desire for revenge. No matter how many raids he made against the white man, nothing seemed to dull the fire that burned to punish them for the wrongs committed against him and those he loved. Then his thoughts turned to the cavalry officer who had spared Morning Sky’s life and whom he, in turn, had spared on the riverbank that day. Squint Peterson claimed the lieutenant was his brother Tom. Maybe it was true. The memory of his brother was no more than a foggy image of a child. Try as he might, he could not bring the child’s face into focus. The thought of having a brother in the other world, before Spotted Pony adopted him, troubled his mind. He was glad that the soldiers he would fight the next day were coming from a fort in the south and not from Fort Lincoln. He would not have to worry about coming face to face with the officer tomorrow.
“It is time to sleep,” Sleeps Standing announced and stood up. Little Wolf got to his feet also and the two friends walked to the edge of the clearing to empty their bladders before retiring. When they returned to the tipi, the women had spread the soft buffalo robes along the perimeter of the tipi, Sleeps Standing and Lark’s on one side and two separate robes on the other side, as usual.
Sleeps Standing pulled his buckskins off and crawled in beside his wife. They whispered softly to each other and Little Wolf heard a soft giggle from Lark. Her sister was already in her bed. Little Wolf made himself comfortable and turned his back on his friend and his wife as a courtesy to them. He felt a sadness on this night, more so than usual, and he felt his loneliness. Soon, however, he drifted off to sleep.
Deep in sleep, he felt Morning Sky come to him. He could feel the warmth of her young body as she slipped gracefully under the light fur cover of his bed and pressed close up against his back. He turned to face her and she came eagerly into his arms. He felt the smooth curves of her back and hips and he could feel the surge of fire ignited deep within him. He pulled her close to him, pressing the length of her body tight against his until it seemed her body melted into his. She kissed his neck and chest and he could smell the smoke of the cook fire in her hair. Suddenly he stiffened. This was not a dream! It was not Morning Sky but Rain Song who had come to him in the darkness of the tipi. Rain Song, feeling his hesitation, sensed the cause of it.
“Please, let me love you,” she whispered. Had it not been dark, he would have noticed the tears in her eyes. “Please, tomorrow you go into battle. Let me love you tonight.”
The thought flashed through his mind that this was wrong. But it was extinguished in an instant, overpowered by the stronger flame of desire. He pulled her to him again and they became as one. There were a few moments of awkwardness, since this was her first time, but he was patient and gentle in his passion, and they soon found fulfillment in each other’s arms. Before the sun rose, she slipped quietly from his bed and returned to her own.
* * *
The Medicine Hat fairly danced in the bright sunlight of the morning. Little Wolf had to hold the pony hard as the combined forces of Two Moon’s Cheyennes and Crazy Horse’s Lakotas rode out to meet the advancing soldiers. Riders and horses were painted for war and the blood was running high for the prospect of battle. It was a little more than a half day’s ride to the place where they would wait for the blue coats and the young braves were anxious, darting about the line of riders like honeybees. Little Wolf and Sleeps Standing, having fought many times before, rode patiently behind Two Moon. They would contain their excitement until the time it was needed. In the meantime they rode side by side, silent for a long while because Little Wolf was deep in thought. Finally he broke the silence.
“My friend, I feel I have brought shame to your tipi.”
Sleeps Standing smiled for he knew what was troubling his friend. “Do not speak of shame. I do not care to hear any confessions today. Today is a day of honor. We will talk of shame and other things tomorrow.”
“No. I must tell you this now. Who can say who will be here tomorrow to talk of these things.”
“I know what troubles you. Rain Song came to your bed last night.” He laughed as he added, “I know this because I told her to.”
“You sent her?” Little Wolf was appalled. “But I violated her. She was a virgin and I have shamed you for she is in your care.”
“You bring nothing but honor to my tipi.” Sleeps Standing was more than a little amused at the genuine contriteness of his friend. “It is time for you to take another wife and Rain Song is a strong young girl. She will be good for you.” He grinned widely at Little Wolf, who was evidently too stunned to reply. “Besides, if I wait for you to do something, she may be too old to give you sons.”
Little Wolf’s brain was under assault by the many confused thoughts this shocking turn of events had loosed. He didn’t trust himself to speak for a long time until he had sorted some of his own feelings out. “I do not want a wife,” he finally pronounced although with some hint of doubt in his tone.
“You need a wife and now you have found one. Cheer up. Now we will be more than friends. We will be brothers!”
Little Wolf did not appreciate the humor Sleeps Standing found in the situation. He felt he had been tricked. He let the matter go for the moment but they would talk more on the subject after the battle.
Once in place, they waited. Two Moon sent Little Wolf and Sleeps Standing downriver to scout with a small party of Dakota braves. They were to establish a position several miles distant and wait there for the soldiers to appear. Once they spotted the advancing troops, they were to ride back and alert the main body of warriors.
Their vigil was not a lengthy one, for the advanced scout for the cavalry came into view within an hour after they had tethered their horses and began their wait. The Sioux scouts rode back to tell the others to get ready while Little Wolf and Sleeps Standing stayed long enough to make sure the column was intact and had not split forces. It would not do for their warriors to set up an ambush only to find that half of the troops had detoured and attacked them from another direction. The advance guard was within five hundred yards of the two Cheyenne warriors when they slipped along the river and spurred their ponies back to their waiting comrades.
* * *
Little Wolf watched as the army scout reined his horse to a halt and sat looking around him, first to the left and then back to the right. A Shoshone, Little Wolf thought. He should be fighting the soldiers instead of helping them. The Shoshone took his time, trying to see everythin
g in the area around him. He sniffed the air as if trying to pick up a scent. Then he walked his horse slowly down to the water’s edge and sat looking at the river for a long time. There was nothing to be heard but the distant cry of a lone hawk and the rustle of a slight breeze in the treetops along the riverbank. In a short time the first line of soldiers appeared, in a column of twos, their horses at a walk. The scout signaled to them to come ahead and he pushed his horse into the river and started across. Little Wolf slid back further into the bushes and waited. As he had guessed, the scout’s path would bring him to pass within a few feet of the bushes he hid behind. He waited until the scout had passed his hiding place and then, like a great cat, he sprang to his feet and, running as fast as he could, hurled himself upon the scout’s horse behind the unsuspecting Shoshone. The scout never had a chance to utter more than a hoarse grunt as Little Wolf’s hand clamped tight over his mouth while the other hand slit his throat. He let the dead man slide to the ground. A young Sioux brave was there at once to roll the body out of sight. Little Wolf jumped to the ground and handed the reins to the young Sioux who quickly led the horse down behind the bluffs where their own horses were being watched by the boys of the tribe.
As the first soldiers splashed across the shallow river, Little Wolf ran, crouching to keep from being seen, along the ridge of the bluff to a position beside his friend Sleeps Standing. On either side of them, the Cheyenne warriors of Two Moon lined the ridge, waiting for the soldiers to cross the river. On the other side of the crossing, Crazy Horse’s Lakotas lay in wait. The first of the column had reached dry land when Crazy Horse stood up and screamed his war cry. It was followed immediately by the sound of the riverbanks exploding in a hail of gunfire. The forward troopers were cut down, some as they tried to retreat to the river, their horses screaming as they were hit by the rifle slugs, sending them tumbling headlong and sliding along the sandy shore. The blue coats caught in the middle of the river struggled to control their hysterical mounts while trying to draw and fire their carbines.
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