As the ceremony climaxed, the holy man waved the hunka pipestems over the heads of the candidates, then placed a piece of meat in each of the candidates’ mouths. Then he proclaimed that he was hungry and without food; cold and naked; footsore and without moccasins. At this prompt, Curly Hair and Horn Chips took the meat from their mouths, unfastened their leggings and moccasins, and doffed their shirts, pledges of aid.
The assistants held robes to obscure the candidates from public view. Curly Hair, Horn Chips, and their hunka father were tied together, arm to arm, leg to leg, symbolizing the indissoluble bond between them. White eagle-down plumes were fastened to the left side of each candidate’s hair, symbolizing the power of prayer. The holy man painted a blue arch across the candidates’ foreheads, then, with sacred red paint, drew a fine line down the side of each face, from forehead to cheek.
At length the robes were drawn back, and the assistants presented each candidate with his own hunka stem and ear of corn. Then, still bound, the candidates slowly rose and filed back into the preparation lodge, where their bonds were removed and they dressed anew in the finest clothing.
Curly Hair and his hunka emerged to cries of joy. Their families drove up horses and spread out gifts of clothing. Curly Hair observed the fine gradations in gift giving. Some presents, made between important families, bound the recipient to a reciprocal gift of at least equal value. In this way, complex networks of affinity and obligation were created, extending across band and tribal divisions. Other gifts, as of horses to the poor, expected no return beyond acclaim. “With this I aid you” was a formula Curly Hair would employ often throughout his life. He absorbed utterly the precepts of the hunka. All accounts agree on his lifelong generosity, and most indicate that his largesse was uncalculating, free from political considerations. So the day progressed with undiminished giving, to climax in a grand feast on the open campground.
Curly Hair’s family and band would be prime exponents of the Oglala-Miniconjou alliance, promoting solidarity through gift giving and, as Curly Hair grew into manhood, participating in joint war expeditions. Within the band, any unfortunate could now call on him to share food and clothing. A man fallen on hard times would be outfitted with hunting tools or ponies if he appealed to Curly Hair: family pride would demand that the man’s needs be fulfilled.7 The unstinting generosity Curly Hair associated with the memory of his mother now found formal expression in his deepened relationship with his band relatives.
On the purely personal level, the hunka restored Curly Hair’s sense of worth. Within the Hunkpatila band, he had begun to feel dangerously alienated. His father and stepmothers had invested substantial time and labor in their part in the ceremony, an effort not lost on a boy sensitive to nuance. The hunka confirmed his identity and status among his mother’s folk at a time when his father’s remarriage had undermined Curly Hair’s crucial sense of belonging to the community of his uncles, aunts, and cousins.
Supported by both families, the ceremony did more than embody shifting political realities: its profound metaphors of sharing, obligation, and liberation acted with therapeutic good on Curly Hair and his hunka brother, Horn Chips. “You are bound to your Hunka as if he were yourself.”8 His adopted brother was no political choice but a companion for life, a spiritual mentor in whom he would place implicit trust, each intuitively attuned to the spiritual capacities they shared. As Curly Hair followed the warrior’s path into adulthood, he would seek to excel above all others in the virtue of bravery. Horn Chips made no serious attempt to live the warrior’s life to the exclusion of all else: his reflective nature drove him further down the road of spiritual growth. In this way, his and Curly Hair’s relationship would remain complementary, untainted by the rivalries that marked friendships among warriors.
Moreover, the shifting of Oglala bands meant that the boys would now be much together. The two friends would not be long separated for the next fifteen years. In Horn Chips’ own words, he and Curly Hair were “raised together” in the crucial years between boyhood and adult life.9
That fall, several bands located their hunting operations north of a new trading post, the settler stopover of Platte Bridge (modern Casper, Wyoming), where veteran trader John Richard hoped to corner the lucrative buffalo robe trade of the upper Powder River country. Oglalas, Miniconjous, Cheyennes, and even Crows exploiting the new truces following the Horse Creek Treaty gathered in the vicinity, trading for guns, New Mexican maize and liquor, and colorful Navaho blankets. Richard’s expanding trade center may account for a significant event that went far to restore Curly Hair’s sense of family well-being. One winter count depicts for 1852–53 a Euro-American, identifiable by his dark clothing and broad-brimmed hat, waving a hunka pipestem over a skull. “A white man made medicine over the skull of Crazy-Horse’s brother,” reads the mnemonic entry. The bones of Male Crow had at last been reclaimed.10
Chronologically, the incident coincides with another important rite of passage for Curly Hair. At age twelve, he recalled to his cousin Flying Hawk, “[I] began to fight enemies.”11 Youths began to join war parties soon after their first buffalo hunt, but such precocious adventures were rarely momentous. Tagging along behind a war party, a boy like Curly Hair was mercilessly joshed but not exposed to real danger. Whether placed in charge of the dog toting the party’s spare moccasins, or sent interminably to fetch water for the leaders, boys were quietly protected, and no story indicates that Curly Hair performed any feat of valor. Instead, his role in “fight[ing] enemies” may have been limited to the party, exploiting the Crow truce, sent to locate the remains of Male Crow. After eight years of grief, insinuation, and rumor, the bones of the war leader had been restored to his people. Curly Hair’s family could at last draw a line under the memory of Male Crow.
For Curly Hair, the burial of Male Crow’s bones confirmed the restorative trend of 1852. Newly secure at home, alive to his responsibilities as a hunka, he at last managed to put his mother’s death behind him. Her loss had shaped much of his childhood. The morbid sensitivity to betrayal would never leave him, any more than he would forget Male Crow’s fatalistic defiance. But his losses had finally been resolved by the healing force of friendship, ritual, and obligation. From now on, those losses would serve to strengthen Curly Hair’s resolve to care for the helpless and to fight bravely for his people. The acceptance permitted him to find a measure of peace in the family home, rebuilding the bond with his father and stepmothers. Reflecting his commitment to the helpless of his band, that bond found especial expression in the relationship with his younger brother, Young Little Hawk.
As Young Little Hawk approached the age of eight, Curly Hair would be expected to shoulder more of the responsibility for his upbringing, devoting himself to instilling the Lakota warrior ethos in the boy. A father’s example leaned toward practical skills and the negotiation of social niceties, and an uncle’s precepts concentrated on self-preservation in a dangerously competitive world; an elder brother was expected to cultivate the fearless bravado of the warrior. In his brother Curly Hair would find an adept and devoted pupil. Curly Hair loved Young Little Hawk dearly, and people noted that as the older boy grew toward adolescence, he worked diligently to teach the younger all that he had learned.12
All these factors were reflected in an incident the following July, the Moon of Red Cherries, 1853. Curly Hair and Young Little Hawk, on the prairie to drive the family horses to water, took time out to rest beside a cluster of cherry bushes, happily munching on the ripe red fruit. A growl startled them, and the horses bolted. The brothers had disturbed a grizzly bear, most fearsome creature of the plains. The boys scrambled up as the lumbering bear put on its deceptive burst of speed. A lone cottonwood offered safety for one boy: without thinking, Curly Hair grabbed Young Little Hawk, boosted him into the lower branches, and in the same movement sprang onto the back of one of the horses. The panicked animal ran out of control until Curly Hair leaned forward along its neck to calm it. Using only the pressure
of his knees, Curly Hair managed to turn the horse and urge it into a run toward the bear. The grizzly still growled angrily, dangerously near Young Little Hawk’s precarious perch. As Curly Hair’s pony closed the distance, he whooped loudly to alarm the bear, unslung the lariat he carried over one shoulder, and swung it over his head, yelling louder. The bear growled and ran at boy and horse, raising itself on its hind legs and baring its yellow fangs. Still Curly Hair rode straight toward a terrible collision, but suddenly the bear turned, flopped onto all fours, and ran.13
As he approached his teen years with newfound security, Curly Hair could ponder the future. He was a proven hunter, a skilled horseman, and a fine shot with an arrow, taking care and time to hit his mark. Now his thoughts concentrated on turning these skills along the warrior’s path. He had seen warriors returning from raids to the exultant tremolos of the women, driving in stolen horses and waving aloft enemy scalps. He had heard the elders recount their heroic tales of warfare. He was probably determined also to restore his family name. Now, old men gently encouraged his ambitions, remarking that he must have sacred power indeed to rout an angry grizzly and save the life of his brother. They stressed too that before he went to war, he should accumulate more protective power by seeking a vision of guidance, just as Horn Chips had.
In conversations with his hunka brother, Curly Hair left no doubt as to where the future lay. Together they watched the rising warriors of the previous generation emerge into greatness: Red Cloud, of the Bad Face band, and Black Twin, from Horn Chips’ own tiyospaye; among the Miniconjous even High Backbone was a tried warrior approaching twenty. “[W]hen we were young,” Horn Chips would recall, “all we thought about was going to war with some other nation; all tried to get their names up to the highest, and whoever did so was the principal man in the nation; and [Curly Hair] wanted to get to the highest rank or station.”14 The first halting steps toward achieving that goal would occupy the next four years of Curly Hair’s life.
4
FIRST TO MAKE THE GROUND BLOODY
The same summer of 1853 that witnessed Curly Hair’s defiance of the grizzly had already seen tensions between Lakotas and Americans wound to breaking. The flash point proved to be Fort Laramie, the former trading post turned army garrison. In mid-June, eighty to one hundred lodges of Miniconjous were encamped near the post. Large villages of their Oglala and Brule hosts also awaited the arrival of Agent Fitzpatrick and the treaty annuities. Despite the hunka accords, many Brules and Oglalas viewed their Miniconjou guests “as interlopers” and regarded them “with considerable distrust.”1
Feisty Miniconjou independence was influenced by developments in the northern Lakota zone, beyond the Black Hills. The two northernmost Lakota divisions, the Hunkpapas and Sihasapas, traditionally had the weakest ties to the Americans and were deeply suspicious of the treaty provisions. Members of the Strong Hearts, an increasingly militant warrior society, resented the interference in intertribal hostilities and argued that treaty annuities committed Lakotas to land cessions like those that marked the Eastern Dakota agreements in Minnesota.2
Similar misgivings infected the Miniconjous at Fort Laramie. On June 15, Miniconjou warriors started harassing settlers, then seized the ferry over the North Platte, firing on Sergeant Enoch W. Raymond. At Fort Laramie, commander Lieutenant Richard B. Garnett ordered an infantry detachment, led by Second Lieutenant Hugh B. Fleming, to demand the culprit of the Miniconjous, or to secure two or three prisoners in his stead.
The detachment approached the Miniconjou village after dark; finding Chief Little Brave absent and the people unwilling to comply with the arrest order, Fleming posted his command in a defensive formation and led five men into the camp. Some thirty shots were exchanged: three or four Miniconjous lay dead, and two more were taken prisoner before Fleming disengaged. Through the night, the Miniconjous struck camp and started toward the Black Hills. Garnett hurried a messenger after them, asking Little Brave and his men to return for a talk. When the chief appeared a few days later, he secured the release of the prisoners, but Garnett refused traditional presents to “cover” the deaths.3
The incident threatened the fragile peace. Although chiefs assured Garnett of their goodwill, there was much anger at the deaths of fellow Lakotas. The treaty provided for mediating disagreements, not through first-response military action, but by diplomacy between the Lakota leadership and the Indian Office agent. Moreover, Lakotas had welcomed the garrison at Fort Laramie on the grounds that its prime function was to protect Lakotas from settler offenders: such rhetoric seemed thin as the summer progressed, and Miniconjou mourners returned to beg Oglala and Brule relatives to aid them in avenging the deaths. A few reckless threats were made against the troops. Chiefs like Man Afraid of His Horse had to use all their influence to prevent further bloodshed.
For Curly Hair and his relatives, these mourners posed a profound dilemma. Although not yet thirteen, and too young to engage actively in hostilities, Curly Hair’s status as hunka to Little Brave’s people made his family a first call for Miniconjous seeking vengeance. Curly Hair’s father, sitting with the council of elders, uneasily continued to accept Man Afraid of His Horse’s advice to maintain peace. The consensus shakily held, but key warriors were increasingly alienated from the peace process. An embryonic faction favoring resistance was emerging throughout the Oglala tribe.
After Agent Fitzpatrick arrived at Fort Laramie on September 10, disagreements were thrown into relief. A cost-cutting Congress had saddled him with securing Lakota signatures to an agreement that reduced the annuity term from fifty years to fifteen. Bitterly, several headmen refused to discuss the amendment, and Fitzpatrick’s speech was repeatedly interrupted by war leaders demanding restitution for the killings by Garnett’s troops. Only protracted appeals from the agent convinced the chiefs like Man Afraid of His Horse and Smoke to touch the pen, but akicita leader Red Cloud refused to sign. Red Hawk, a warrior closely associated with Curly Hair’s family, stalked out of the council in sullen silence and rode across the North Platte, vowing never to return to Fort Laramie.4
The signing and distribution was a costly diplomatic victory. Although still small scale, the defections were portents of the future polarization of Lakota society over the issue of accommodation with the Americans. Curly Hair’s father was just one band headman who grew increasingly suspicious of the American alliance.
Dangerous portents continued to accumulate through the following winter. Little Brave, the Miniconjou chief, died. His loss left his band more volatile than ever, and the following summer, disgruntled warriors threatened reprisals.5
By August 1854, over six hundred Lakota lodges had gathered near Fort Laramie to await the arrival of their agent. Among the small Miniconjou contingent was High Forehead, a grieving nephew of Little Brave. Still mourning relatives from the previous summer, High Forehead announced that “he intended to do something bad.”6
On August 18 a sick, lame cow strayed from a passing Mormon wagon train. High Forehead shot the animal, which was quickly butchered and eaten. Head chief Scattering Bear rode to Fort Laramie to talk the matter over with Lieutenant Fleming, now commanding the post. Scattering Bear offered to compensate the Mormon with horses from his own herd, but Fleming initially rejected Scattering Bear’s efforts at diplomacy, arguing that the offender be handed over for detention. The head chief objected that High Forehead was a guest in his village but conceded that if Fleming sent troops, High Forehead would be given up. At length, persuaded that the matter was one for the civilian agent to decide, Fleming declared that he would not send for the offending Miniconjou on that day. With that, Scattering Bear returned to camp.7
On the afternoon of August 19, however, Lieutenant John L. Grattan—a fire-eating West Point graduate with a bottomless contempt for the Indians—insisted to Fleming that he be permitted to secure the arrest of High Forehead. The commander gave in and ordered Grattan to take an infantry detachment with two artillery pieces to the Brule vill
age and secure the offender. Defiant intransigence was about to meet military impetuosity in a tragic turning point for U.S.–Lakota relations.8
In the Brule camps, hurried councils convened at news of Grattan’s march. The council of elders requested that action be delayed pending the arrival of the agent. Meeting separately, warriors declared that on no account would they permit an arrest. Scattering Bear, donning the brigadier’s coat presented to him at Horse Creek, led a group of Brule chiefs to James Bordeaux’s trading post, next to the main Brule camp and three hundred yards west of Scattering Bear’s Wazhazha camp, which was augmented by fifteen tipis of Miniconjous, including that of offender High Forehead. Pressured by Grattan, the chiefs declined to take action against High Forehead. Instead, they offered Grattan ponies and pressed the elders’ suggestion of postponing action until the agent’s arrival. As they spoke, a messenger rode up with word that High Forehead categorically “refused to give himself up—he said he would die first.”9
Grattan ordered his men to march into the camp, where both Scattering Bear and Man Afraid of His Horse vainly tried to defuse the situation. Both High Forehead and Grattan refused to back down from confrontation. As Scattering Bear and Grattan’s discussion escalated into argument, and Man Afraid of His Horse tried unsuccessfully to calm the men, High Forehead and five other Miniconjou warriors filed out of his tipi and stood in line outside the lodge, nonchalantly priming their muskets. Brule women hurried their families to cover while men rushed for their weapons.
The lieutenant ordered his men to assume firing positions. A soldier at the extreme right of the line stepped forward and aimed his rifle. The shot rang out and a Lakota fell. In the sudden silence, Man Afraid of His Horse called out to the Lakotas “not to fire; that they had killed one man, and might be satisfied.”10 Other chiefs joined him in calling for restraint. Then a second soldier fired on the left. A momentary pause held, as if by collective shock. The Brules drew back to seek cover, but the Miniconjous remained in a defiant line. Disgustedly, Scattering Bear turned away from Grattan, walking toward his own tipi and casting wary glances backward. Suddenly, the six Miniconjous aimed their muskets and snapped off a ragged volley. A soldier fell. The lieutenant ordered his men to fire at Scattering Bear. A volley rang out, and Scattering Bear fell mortally wounded, shot through the arm, body, and leg. As the black smoke cleared, five other Lakotas lay dead. Man Afraid of His Horse and the Brule chiefs still standing raced for cover.
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