Chapter 37 first quarter
It was always rumored that not a single white soldier of the General's troops survived the massacre at Little Bighorn on June 25, 1876.This is not exact, in fact there is a survivor.He was a frontier scout, aged twenty-four, and his name was Ben Craig.This is his story.
It was the sensitive nose of the young frontier scout who caught the scent first, the faint smoky smell brought by the breeze on the prairie.
They marched on the west bank of the Rosebud River, the scout riding alone in front, twenty yards behind ten cavalry patrolling and reconnaissance.
The scout didn't turn around, but raised his right hand to rein in the reins.Behind him, Sergeant Braddock and nine horsemen reined in.The scout jumped off his horse, let the horse graze quietly, and trotted to a low bank between the horsemen and the stream.There he lay down, climbed to the top of the bank, and hid in the long grass to peer ahead.
In the small camp between the ridge and the river bank, there were four or five Indian tents, and only one large family.This teepee shows that they are.The scout knew a lot about Indian tents.The Sioux teepees were tall and narrow; the Cheyenne teepees were built with wide bottoms, making them shorter and fatter.Pictograms showing hunting trophies adorn the sides of each tent, also in the Cheyenne style.
The scout estimated that the camp would hold twenty to twenty-five men, but he could tell from the number of ponies that a dozen or so men had gone out hunting.There were only seven ponies grazing near the tent.To move such a camp, men, women, and children, with the tents folded up, and other baggage loaded on the sleds, would have required some twenty horses.
He heard the sergeant climb up the bank behind him, and he gestured behind him for the sergeant to get down.Then, the blue uniform sleeve embroidered with three herringbone logos appeared beside him.
"What did you see?" the sergeant asked him softly, hoarsely.
It was nine o'clock in the morning and the weather was already very hot.They have been riding for three hours.General Custer liked to break camp early in the morning, but the scout could already smell whiskey from the sergeant next to him.It was a poor frontier whiskey, smelling bad, stronger than a perfume made of wild berries, cherries, and dog roses that grow wild on the banks of the Rosebud.
"Five tents of the Cheyenne. Only women and children in the camp. The men have gone across the river to hunt."
Sergeant Braddock didn't ask the Scout how he knew, but accepted the Scout's explanation.He opened his mouth and yawned, showing his yellow teeth and breathing out a breath of alcohol.The scout slid down the embankment and stood up.
"Leave them alone. This is not the man we're looking for."
But Sergeant Braddock had been a soldier on the plains with the 7th Cavalry for three years without any action.During that long, boring winter in Fort Lincoln, he had conceived a bastard child with a part-time whore laundress, but he had come to the Plains to actually kill the Indians, and he didn't want to be stopped.
The massacre took only five minutes.Ten cavalry easily climbed over the ridge and rushed down quickly.Scout climbed up the ridge and watched in disgust.
One of the cavalrymen had just joined the army, and his riding skills were so poor that he fell off his horse.Others massacred.The sabers were left at Fort Lincoln, so they used either the Colt revolvers they carried or the new-issue Springfield Model 73s.
The Indian women, who were tending the campfires and hearths, tried to rally the children to run to the river when the horses' hooves sounded.But it was too late.Before they reached the water's edge the cavalry charged around them, and then turned back to the tent, firing at everything that moved.When all the old men, women, and children were dead, they stopped and jumped off their horses to search the tents for interesting trophies to send home.Several more shots were fired from inside the tent when the children were found still alive.
The scouts rode down the ridge and walked four hundred yards to the camp to inspect it.When the cavalry set fire to the tents, there was nothing left and no one alive.One of the troopers, a boy who had never seen anything like it, vomited up his breakfast of hard bread and beans.He leaned out of the saddle so as not to vomit on himself.Sergeant Braddock was triumphant.He won the battle, and found a feathered headdress, which he fastened to the saddle beside the canteen that had only held brook water.
The scouts counted fourteen corpses lying here and there where they fell.A soldier handed him a prize, and he shook his head, and rode through the tent to the river bank to water his steed.
A young girl was lying on the ground, half-hidden in the reeds, blood trickling down one bare leg.A rifle bullet penetrated her thigh as she ran.Had the scout moved a little faster, he would have turned his head and returned to the burning tent.But Braddock, who was watching him, noticed the direction of his gaze, and galloped up.
"What did you find, boy? Well, is there a vermin, and it's alive?"
He drew his Colt from its holster and took aim.The girl in the reeds turned her face to stare at them, her empty eyes full of terror.The scout reached out and grabbed the sergeant's wrist, raising the muzzle of his gun into the air.Braddock's vulgar face, red with whiskey, darkened with anger.
"Don't kill her. She may know something," said the Scout.This is the only way.Braddock hesitated for a moment, then nodded after thinking about it.
"Good idea, boy. We'll take her home as a present for the General."
He holstered his pistol and went back to check on his men.The scout jumped off his horse and went into the reeds to watch over the girl.Fortunately, her wound was clean.As she ran away, the bullet pierced her thigh at a short distance.There are two gun holes, one entrance and one exit, both are small and round.The scout wiped the wound with his handkerchief and clear stream water and bandaged it to stop the bleeding.
After processing, he went to see her.She is also looking back at him.A cascade of black hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and her large dark eyes were clouded with pain and fear.Not all Indian women were beautiful in the eyes of the white man, but of all the tribes the Cheyenne was the most beautiful.The girl in the reeds was about sixteen years old, with striking and refined beauty.Scout is twenty-four years old this year. Having grown up reading the Bible, he has never known a woman in the meaning of the Old Testament.He felt his heart beating wildly and had to look away.He carried her on his shoulders and walked back to the devastated camp.
"Put her on the pony," shouted the sergeant.He drank from his glass again.The scout shook his head.
"The sled," he said, "or she'll die."
A few old-fashioned sledges lay on the ground next to the burnt-out tent.This kind of sled used by North American Indians is composed of two slender and elastic American black pine poles. It is very open, and a piece of unfolded cowhide is placed in the middle for loading.It was a very comfortable means of travel, and for the wounded it was more stable than the horse-drawn carriages used by the whites, which bumped more violently on uneven roads.
Scouts round up a fleeing pony.Now only two ponies remained; five had run away.The pony backed timidly as it was brought on the bridle, it already smelled the white man, the smell that would drive a whitish pony mad.The reverse was also true: U.S. cavalry horses could become unruly if they smelled of Plains Indians.
Scout blew gently into the pony's nostrils, waiting for it to accept him and calm down.Ten minutes later the sled was also ready.The wounded girl was lying on the buffalo hide, wrapped in a blanket.The patrol team set off in full gear and returned to the same road, looking for General Custer and the main force of the Seventh Cavalry Regiment led by General Custer.It was the 24th of June, 1876.
The causes of the battle that took place that summer on the southern plains of Montana date back several years.Gold prospectors flock to the discovery of gold in South Dakota's sacred Black Mountains.But Mount Black had been gifted permanently to the Sioux tribe.In this regard, the Plains Indians thought they had been betrayed. They were furious and attacked gold diggers and wagons as revenge.
White people were outraged by this violence; fueled by fictionalized and exaggerated tales of brutal brutality.Subsequently, the white group filed a complaint in Washington.The government responded by hastily canceling and confining the Plains Indians to a few barren reservations.Compared with the solemn promise they once received, this is only a fraction.These reservations are in the territories of South and North Dakota.
But Washington also ceded an area known as "uncede territory."It was a traditional hunting ground for the Sioux, still teeming with bison and deer.The eastern boundary of the land is the vertical western border of North Dakota.Its western limit is a dashed north-south line, a hundred and forty-five miles to the west, a line the Indians could not have imagined nor seen.The northern boundary of uncede land is the Yellowstone River, which flows through Montana into the South and North Dakota states; the southern boundary is the North Platte River in Wyoming.In this land, the Indians were allowed to hunt at first, but the whites who went west did not stop.
In 1875, the Sioux began to move out of the Dakota Reservation into unceeded hunting land.Later that year, the Bureau of Indian Affairs issued an ultimatum to the Sioux: return to the reservation by January 1.
The Sioux and their allies ignored the warning without contesting it.Most of them have never even heard of the ultimatum.They continued hunting, and when winter passed and spring came, they went after their traditional game: the large populations of bison, mild-tempered deer and antelope.In early spring, the Bureau of Indian Affairs referred the matter to the military.Its mission: find them, round them up, and bring them back to the Dakota Reservation.
There are two things the army doesn't know: exactly how many people came off the reservation and where they are.Regarding the first thing, the army was deceived.The reservations were run by agents of the Indians, all white, and many of them hoodlums.
These agents received livestock, corn, flour, blankets, and money from Washington to distribute to the Indians under their charge.Many people defrauded the Indians out of money, starved women and children, and made the Indians decide to return to the hunting plains.
There is another reason why these agents lie.If all the people they claim to be on the reservation are actually there, they get a 100 per cent allowance.If the number of Indians left behind decreased, so would the distribution of money and goods.In this case, the agent's own benefit will also be reduced.In the spring of 1876, these agents told the army that only a handful of brave Indians had disappeared.They lied.Thousands of Indians were gone, crossing the frontier to hunt in uncede territory.
As for exactly where they were, there was only one way to know: send troops to Montana to find them.So the army drew up a plan to send three troops mixed with infantry and cavalry.
General Alfred Terry set out from Fort Lincoln in the northern Dakotas and traveled west along the Yellowstone River to the northern border of the hunting grounds.General John Gibbon was to go south from Sharburg, Montana, to Fort Ellis, then turn east and advance along the Yellowstone River to join General Terry's force coming from the other direction.
General George Crook would march north from Fort Fetterman in Wyoming in the south, across the headwaters of Madwoman Creek, across the Tanger River toward Bighorn Canyon, and finally join the other two troops.They speculated that one of the three armies would always find a large army of Sioux.They all set off in March.
In early June, Gibbon and Terry joined forces at the point where the Tonge River emptied into the Yellowstone River.They didn't even see a single Indian.From this at least it can be learned that the Plains Indians must be somewhere to the south of them.Gibbon and Terry agreed that Terry would continue westward, and now that Gibbon had joined him, he would go back west with him.So they headed west.
On June 20, the combined force reached the point where the Rosebud River empties into the Yellowstone River.It was here decided that the 7th Cavalry, which had accompanied Terry from Fort Lincoln, should go up the Rosebud to its source, in case the Indians should remain in the upper Rosebard.Custer might be able to find the Indians, or General Crook.
No one knew that on the seventeenth Crook was beaten to the ground by a large Sioux and Cheyenne force.He had turned back south and was happily hunting.He did not send cavalry to the north to find and notify the brother troops, so neither Gibbon nor Terry knew that there were no troops to receive the defense in the south.They can only rely on themselves.
On the fourth day of the advance in the Rosebud Valley, a forward patrol returned with news of a victory at the Cheyenne hamlet and a prisoner.
General George Armstrong Custer rode proudly at the head of his main body of cavalry, but he was in such a hurry that he did not want to stop the entire force for a single prisoner.Seeing Sergeant Braddock return, he just nodded and ordered him to report to his company commander.If the Indian woman knew what was going on, it could be left to them after they had camped for the night.
The Cheyenne girl lay on the sleigh for the rest of the day.The scout led the pony back and tied its bridle to a luggage carrier.The ponies pulling the sleds trotted behind the carriage.The scout remained near the sledge, since there was no need now to scout ahead.Not long after joining the 7th Cavalry Regiment, he felt that he didn't like what he was doing.He didn't like his company commander, nor did he like the sergeant of the company. Moreover, he thought that the famous General Custer was actually a fool who talked nonsense.But he didn't say this idea, but hid it in his heart.His name is Ben Craig.
His father, John Knox Craig, was a Scottish immigrant.After being driven out of a small farm by a greedy landowner, the tough guy immigrated to the United States around 1840.Somewhere in the east he met a girl and married.She was, like him, a Presbyterian of Scots.Finding little development opportunity in the cities, they headed west to the frontier.Arriving in southern Montana in 1850, he decided to make his fortune panning for gold in the wilderness near the Prior Mountains.
He was one of the first gold diggers at that time.Life in a small wooden shed by the creek at the edge of the forest was monotonous and difficult, especially in the cold winter months.The forest is idyllic only in summer, full of abundance, salmon swimming in the streams, and wildflowers blooming in the meadows.In 1852, their first and only son was born to their wife, Jenny Craig.Two years later, the youngest daughter died in infancy.
When Ben Craig was ten, he was a boy of the mountains and the frontier.That year, his parents died at the hands of the expedition team.Two days later, a trapper named Donaldson found him.Sitting next to the burnt log cabin, Craig was hungry and sad.Together they buried John Craig and Jenny Craig under two crosses by the water.Whether John Craig had gold dust in his possession will never be known.If the Crows found out, they would just think it was sand and throw away the yellow powder.
Donaldson is an elderly mountain man who sets traps for wolves, bears, beavers and foxes, and sells them at a nearby bazaar every year.Out of sympathy for the orphan, the old bachelor took him in and raised him as his own son.
Under the influence of his mother, Ben only knew one book: the Bible.His mother used to read long passages to him.Although he is not proficient in reading and writing, he has memorized short passages in the "Bible" that his mother called "a good book" in his mind.His father had taught him how to pan for gold, but Donaldson had taught him how to live in the wild, teaching him the names of birds, how to follow animal tracks, and how to ride and shoot.
While with Donaldson, he met a Cheyenne.The man was also a trapper who had done business with Donaldson at the farmers market.Under their precept and example, he learned their way of life and language.
Two years before the Summer War of 1876, old man Donaldson died in the moor.While hunting an old black bear, he missed his mark and was caught and killed by a crazy beast.Ben Craig buried his adoptive father near the cabin in the woods, took what he needed, and set fire to the rest.
Donaldson Sr. used to say when he was alive, "When I'm gone, boy, take what you need. It's all yours." So he took a sharp Bowie knife, along with a Cheyenne-style scabbard, a Sharps rifle of 1852, two horses, saddlery, blankets, and some dried meatloaf and hard bread for the journey.Nothing else is needed.Then he came out of the mountains, out to the plains, and rode all the way north to Ellisburg.
In April 1876, when General Gibbon's troops rode through the area, he was there hunting, trapping, and training horses.The general was looking for scouts who knew the land south of the Yellowstone River, and the troops were being well paid, so Ben Craig joined.
He marched to the mouth of the Tonge River, joined General Terry, and turned back with the Union forces to reach the mouth of the Rosebud River again.There Custer's 7th Cavalry was dispatched south to the headwaters of the Rosebud River.The unit began looking for soldiers who could speak Cheyenne.
Custer already had at least two scouts who spoke Sioux.One was a black soldier, the only black in the Seventh Regiment, named Isaiah Dorman, who had lived with the Sioux.The other was Scout Captain Mitch Boyer, a French-Sioux hybrid.While the Cheyenne is generally considered to be the closest and most traditional ally to the Sioux, their languages differ considerably.Craig raised his hand to sign up.General Gibbon arranged for him to join the Seventh Regiment.
Gibbon also offered Custer three companies of cavalry under Major Brispin, but this was declined.Terry offered him a Gatling gun, which was also rebuffed.As they traveled up the Rosebud River, the Seventh Regiment consisted of twelve companies, a total of six white scouts, three dozen Indian scouts, a wagon train and three civilians, a total of six hundred and seven fifteen people.This total includes the horse doctor, blacksmith and mule driver.
Custer had left his regiment's marching band to Terry, so when he charged at the end, the horns were no longer his beloved "Gary Irving."However, on their way to the south, the kettles, basins, iron pans and spoons hanging on both sides of the mobile cooking cart collided with each other and made clanking noises.Craig wondered if Custer hoped to catch a tribe of Indians by surprise.With the noise and dust raised by the hooves of these three thousand horses, the Indians could spot them for miles.
During the march from the Tunger River to the Rosebud River, Craig had two weeks to observe the illustrious Seventh Regiment and its iconic commander, and his heart grew heavier as he watched.He feared that they might encounter a horde of Sioux and Cheyenne ready for battle.
The main force rode south all day along the Rosebud River, but saw no more Indians.On several occasions, however, the horses of the cavalry seemed frightened, even terrified, when the breeze blew westward from the steppe.Craig was sure they already smelled something on the wind.The burning teepee couldn't have gone unnoticed.The soaring plumes of smoke on the prairie can be seen for miles.
Just after four o'clock in the afternoon, General Custer ordered the troops to stop and set up camp.The sun began to sink over the distant Rocky Mountains, out of sight.The officers' tent was quickly pitched.Custer and his cronies always use the ambulance tent, which is the largest and roomiest tent.The folding camp tables and chairs were set up, the horses were drinking water by the stream, the food was prepared, and the bonfire was lit.
The Cheyenne girl lay quietly on the sleigh, staring at the darkening sky.She was ready to die.Craig filled a jug of water by the stream and brought it to her to drink.She gazed at him with large dark eyes.
"Drink," Craig said in Cheyenne.The girl didn't respond.He poured a little stream of cool water over her mouth.She opened her lips and drank it.He left the jug with her.
As twilight grew darker, a cavalryman from Company B came to the camp to look for him.
After finding him, the cavalry went back to report.After a while, Captain Acton rode up.He was accompanied by Sergeant Braddock, a corporal and two horsemen.They dismounted and surrounded the sledge.
Six whites, a small group of Crows, and thirty or so, seven regiments of all these frontier scouts, formed a group because of a common interest.They all know the frontier and the frontier way of life.
When they sat around the campfire at night, they used to talk to each other before going to bed.They started with General Custer, talking about the officers, and the company commanders.Craig was surprised to find that the general was very unpopular among his men.It was his younger brother, Tom Custer, commander of Company C, who was loved by the soldiers, but the most hated officer was Captain Acton.Craig felt the same way.Acton was a professional soldier who had joined the Army just after the Civil War ten years earlier, and had been promoted in the Seventh Regiment under Custer's protection.Born into a well-to-do family in the East, he was thin, with a chiseled face and a cruel mouth.
"So, Sergeant," said Acton, "this is your prisoner. Let us find out what she knows."
"You speak the patois of the barbarians?" he asked Craig.Scout nodded. "I want to know who she is, what tribe she belongs to, and where to find the Sioux armies. Ask now."
Craig bent over the girl lying on the buffalo hide.He suddenly spoke Cheyenne, supplemented by gestures for numbers, because the vocabulary of the Plains Indians is very limited, and they need gestures to express clearly.
"Tell me your name, girl. It won't hurt you."
"I am the Wind that speaks softly," she said.The cavalry stood around and listened.They couldn't understand a word, but they could understand that she was shaking her head.Finally, Craig straightened up.
"Captain, the girl said her name was Breeze, and she was from Northern Cheyenne. Her family belonged to the High Elk tribe. It was her family's house that was destroyed by the sergeant this morning. There were ten men in the village, including her father, and they all Off to the east bank of the Rosebud River to hunt deer and antelope."
"What about the main settlement of the Sioux?"
"She said she hadn't seen a Sioux. Her family was from the South, Tonge River. There were a lot of Cheyenne with them before, but they parted ways a week ago. The High Elk like to hunt alone."
Captain Acton gazed at the bandaged thigh, leaned forward, and gave it a hard pinch.The girl took a deep breath in pain, but did not cry out.
"Perhaps a boost to morale," Acton said.Sergeant Braddock grinned.Craig reached out and grabbed the captain's wrist, pulling his hand away.
"That's no good, Captain," he said. "She's told us what she knows. If the Sioux aren't to the north where we passed before, and they're not to the south and west, they must be to the east. You can report that." General."
Captain Acton wrenched his wrist out of Craig's grasp as if afraid of being infected.He straightened up, took one out and took a look.
"Dinner is ready in the general's tent," he said. "I have to go." He had obviously lost interest in the prisoner. "Sergeant, after dark, take her to the grassland and kill her."
"Is there a rule that we can't play with her first, Captain?" Sergeant Braddock asked.There was an approving laugh from the other soldiers.Captain Acton mounted his horse.
"Frankly, Sergeant, I don't care what you want to do."
He galloped towards General Custer's tent at the front of the camp.The other soldiers also mounted their horses.Sergeant Braddock leaned over on horseback and squinted at Craig.
"Keep her alive, boy. We'll be back."
Craig walked to the nearest kitchen cart, fetched a plate of bacon, hard bread, and lentils, found an ammunition box, sat down, and began to eat.He thought of his mother, fifteen years ago, reading the Bible to him in the dim light.He thought of his father, patiently panning for gold in the streams that flowed down the Pryor Mountains.He also thought of old Donaldson, the only time the old man had taken off his belt angrily to whip him, and that was for rough handling of a captured animal.
At almost eight o'clock, the night had completely enveloped the camp.Craig stood up, returned the plate and spoon to the car, and walked over to the sled.He didn't speak to the girl, but he took the two poles off the pony's back and put them on the ground.
He lifted the girl up from the ground, and with a light hug, he lifted her onto the pony's back and handed her the reins.Then, he pointed to the open grassland.
"Go ahead," he said.She stared at him for two seconds.He slapped the pony on the ass.After a while, it left.It was a determined, tenacious, unshod pony who would cross miles and miles across open grass until he found his way, smelling the scent of his own kind.A few Alicra scouts watched curiously from fifty feet away.
About nine o'clock they came to him in a rage.Two horsemen grabbed him and let Sergeant Braddock beat him.After he fell, they dragged him across the camp to General Custer.At this moment, by the light of several oil lamps, the general was sitting at a table in front of the tent, surrounded by a group of officers.
General George Armstrong Custer was forever enigmatic.But he obviously has two sides: a good side and a bad side; a bright side and a dark side.
He has a bright side that is always jovial, often laughs a lot, likes to crack jokes like a child, and is a joy to be around.With boundless energy and a muscular physique, he was always engaged in something new: either collecting wild animals on the plains to send to zoos in the East, or learning to taxidermy.Although he is away all year round, he is absolutely loyal to his wife Elizabeth.
Since a bout of drunkenness in his youth, he has become a teetotaler, absolutely abstaining from alcohol, even with dinner.He never swears, nor does he allow others to swear in front of him.
During the Civil War fourteen years ago he had shown astonishing courage to put himself to death and survive, which had propelled him quickly from lieutenant to major general, and then, after the war, to a lieutenant colonel in a smaller army.He once took the lead in charging and killing in the hail of bullets, but he never got hurt.He is regarded as a hero by countless common people, but he is not trusted and loved by his subordinates.
This is because, for those who offended him, he will also carry out cruel revenge.In the war, although he himself was not injured, his officers and soldiers suffered more casualties than any other cavalry unit.This made him more impatient and reckless.Soldiers don't want to love and support a commander who will make them die.
During the War of the Plains he ordered the use of the whip to maintain discipline, resulting in more deserters than any other force in the West.Because people kept fleeing at night, the Seventh Regiment had to recruit recruits frequently, but Custer had no interest in training them into skilled cavalry with combat effectiveness.Despite the long autumn and winter at Fort Lincoln, in June 1876 the Seventh Regiment was still not in very good shape.
Custer has a strong vanity and great ambitions, and he will show his face in the newspapers whenever he has the opportunity.With his dark brown buckskin suit and smooth auburn curls, he was dressed and groomed for it.So is Mark Kellogg, a reporter with the Seventh Cavalry Regiment today.
But as a general commanding an army, Custer had two flaws that would have killed him and most of his men in the hours that followed.One is that he often underestimates the enemy.He has a reputation as the "Indian buster" and is complacent about it.Eight years ago, he had indeed wiped out an entire village of sleeping Cheyenne people.It was the village of Chief Black Pot, the leader of the Cheyenne Nation, on the Ouachita River in Kansas.He led troops, surrounded the sleeping Indians at night, and at sunrise slaughtered most of them: men, women, and children.At the time, the Cheyenne had just signed a new peace treaty with the whites, so they thought they were safe.
During this period, he was also involved in skirmishes with the main Indian war faction four times.The total loss of these four times was less than twelve people.These encounters with native Indians pale in comparison to the heavy casualties of the Civil War.But Eastern readers needed a hero to adore, and their fictional frontier savages were demonic villains.Ebullient newspaper publicity and his autobiography, My Life on the Plains, garnered him fame and iconic status.
The second shortcoming is that he can't listen to what anyone has to say.He was accompanied by some very experienced scouts on the march along the Rosebud River, but he ignored warnings.On the night of June 24th, Ben Craig was dragged before this man.
Sergeant Braddock explained what happened and told Custer that there were witnesses to the incident.Surrounded by six officers, General Custer studied the man in front of him.Before him was a lad twelve years his junior, not more than six feet tall, in deerskin, with curly chestnut hair and bright blue eyes.He was clearly Caucasian, not even half-breed like the other scouts, but he wore soft leather boots instead of hard cavalry boots, and he had a mountain eagle with a white point in the back of his hair feather.
"This is a very serious breach of discipline," Custer said when the sergeant finished his account. "Is it true?"
"It is true, General."
"Why did you do that?"
Craig explained the previous interrogation of the girl, and the plans for later that night.Castor's face was sullen, quite dissatisfied.
"In my command, such things are not allowed, even with Indian women. Is that so, Sergeant?"
At this time, Captain Acton, who was sitting behind Custer, stepped in.He spoke very smoothly and convincingly.He said he conducted the interrogation himself.It is entirely in oral form, with a translation alongside.The girl was not physically punished during the whole process.His final instructions were to watch her through the night, but not to touch her, until morning, when the decision could be left to the general.
"My cavalry sergeant can attest to what I say," he said at last.
"Yes, sir, that is the truth," Braddock said.
"The case is true," Custer said. "Put him up until the court-martial. Call the military police sergeant. Craig, by letting the prisoner go without permission, you're letting her join the enemy's main force and sending them a Warning. This is collaborating with the enemy and is punishable by hanging."
"She didn't go west," Craig said. "She rode east to find her living family."
"She can still report our position to the enemy," Custer retorted quickly.
"They know where you are, General."
"How do you know that?"
"They tail you all day."
The officers were dumbfounded and froze for a long time.At that moment the Sergeant of the Military Police appeared—a big veteran named Lewis.
"Put this man under custody, Sergeant. Lock it up. There's a quick court-martial tomorrow at sunup, and the verdict will be delivered soon. That's it."
"But it's Sunday tomorrow," Craig said.
Castor thought for a moment. "You're right. I'm not going to arrange the hanging on Sunday. Let's do it on Monday."
团部副官加拿大人威廉·库克上尉在一旁做着记录，事后他会把本子装进马鞍袋里。
这时，侦察员鲍勃·杰克逊骑马来到帐篷前。与他一起来的有四名阿里克拉人和一名克劳人侦察兵。日落时他们一直在前方侦察，回来晚了。杰克逊是黑白混血儿，他的报告使卡斯特激动得跳了起来。
就在日落前，杰克逊的几个土著侦察兵发现了一个大营地的痕迹：草原上有许多圆锥形帐篷支起时留下的圆形记号。踪迹从营地一路蔓延，离开罗斯巴德河谷，向西面延伸。
令卡斯特激动的理由有两个：他从特里将军那里接到的命令，是朝罗斯巴德河的源头进发，但如果有新情况出现，他可以自行作出判断。现在新情况出现了。卡斯特现在可以自由决定他的战略战术和作战计划，用不着执行命令了。第二个理由是，他似乎终于发现了捉摸不定的苏人主群体。西面离此地二十英里处，在另一条山谷里还有一条河流，叫小大角河，它流向北方，汇入大角河，然后再流入黄石河。
在两三天之内，吉本和特里的联合部队将抵达这个河流汇合处，然后沿大角河南下。这些苏人将会受到钳制。
“拔营出发，”卡斯特喊道，他的军官们散开后返回各自的部队。“我们今天连夜赶路，”他回头对宪兵中士说，“管住囚犯，刘易斯中士。把他绑在马背上，跟在我后面。现在他可以看看，会有什么事情发生在他的朋友身上。”
他们彻夜行军。山谷外面的乡间地形复杂，崎岖不平，朝分水岭去的一路上都在上坡。士兵和马匹都累了。六月二十五日，星期天凌晨两三点钟，他们抵达了分水岭。这是两条山谷间的制高点。天空一片漆黑，但星光灿烂。过了分水岭不久，他们发现一条小溪，侦察兵米奇·波耶尔认出这是丹斯阿什伍德溪。它朝西流淌，在山谷底下汇入小大角河。部队沿着溪流继续行进。
快黎明时，卡斯特命令部队停下来，但没有让他们扎营。疲惫不堪的士兵们就地躺倒，抓紧时间睡上一会儿。
克雷格和宪兵中士跟在卡斯特身后五十码处，在司令部的队伍中骑行。克雷格仍骑在马背上，但他的夏普斯步枪和猎刀已被刘易斯中士收缴。他的脚踝被皮鞭束着，绑在马鞍的肚带上，双手则被绑在了背后。
刘易斯长得五大三粗，但心地倒还善良。黎明前的休息时间里，他解开克雷格脚踝的皮鞭，悄悄地让他坐在地上。克雷格的双手仍被反绑着，但刘易斯用水壶喂了他几口水。即将到来的白天依然会很炎热。
就在这个时候，卡斯特作出了他当天的第一个错误决定。他召来他的三把手弗雷德里克·本蒂恩上尉，命令他带上H连、D连和K连，去南面的荒地看看那里是否有印第安人。克雷格听到，在相隔几码远的地方，部队里最专业的军人本蒂恩对命令提出了异议。如果前方小大角河两岸有敌人的大部队，那么，把兵力分散是明智的举措吗？
“你就执行命令吧。”卡斯特厉声说完就转身走了。本蒂恩耸耸肩，执行命令去了。卡斯特率领的大约六百名士兵中，有一百五十名奔赴荒山野岭，去执行这徒劳的搜索了。
克雷格和刘易斯中士将再也无法知道，本蒂恩和他筋疲力尽的人马会在几个小时之后返回这条河谷。要解救这些人已经来不及了，但正因为回来得太晚，使他们逃过了被消灭的厄运。卡斯特下达命令后，又整队出发。七团顺溪流而下，朝着小大角河进军。
黎明时分，在大部队前方探路的几名克劳人和阿里克拉人侦察兵回来了。他们在丹斯阿什伍德溪与河流的交汇处附近，发现了一座小山坡。由于熟知整个地区，他们也了解这个山坡。山坡上有一些松树，爬上树后能看见前方整个山谷。
两名阿里克拉人曾爬到树上，看见了前方的一切。他们获悉卡斯特打算继续前进，觉得这简直是去送死，于是就地坐了下来。
太阳升起来了，气温随之节节攀升。在克雷格的前面，身穿奶油色鹿皮装的卡斯特将军脱下外套，卷起来绑在身后的马鞍上。他身着一件蓝色棉布衬衫策马前行，头戴一顶宽边奶油色草帽遮阳。部队来到了那个山坡。
卡斯特爬上半山腰，用望远镜观察前面的情况。他们在溪流岸边，距河流汇合处还有三英里。当他走下山坡与剩余的军官商议时，谣言在部队里已经传开了。他见到了一部分苏人村庄，村里有炊烟正冉冉升起。这时是上午。
在丹斯阿什伍德溪对面，黄石河以东，有一丛低低的山丘挡住了平地上的人们的视线，但卡斯特还是发现了他要寻找的苏人。他不知道对方到底有多少人，也听不进侦察兵向他发出的警告。他决定发起攻击，这也是他字典里唯一的招数。
他选定的作战计划是一次钳形攻势。他不打算插入到印第安人南翼并等待特里和吉本从北面包抄过来，而是决定用七团剩余的兵力组成钳子V型的两条边。
缚在马背上等待军事法庭审判的本·克雷格，听到卡斯特下了令。他命令第二把手马库斯·雷诺少校带上A连、M连和B连三个连队继续西行。他们要抵达河边，涉水过河后转向右边，从南路冲向那座村庄地势较低的一端。
卡斯特将军留下一个连队守卫骡马车队和后勤供给。他自己则将率领余下的五个连队快速北上，抵达山丘背面，从北边这一端逼近。随后他将冲到河边，跨越河流，从北面进攻苏人。在雷诺少校的三个连队和他自己的五个连队的夹击下，印第安人将被打得落花流水。
克雷格无法知道视线以外的山丘另一边的情况，但他可以观察克劳人和阿里克拉人侦察兵的举止。他们已经明白，并且准备好了要赴死。他们所见到的，是苏人和夏延人在同一个地点空前绝后地集结到了一起。六个大部落来到一块儿合作狩猎，他们把营地扎在了小大角河的西岸。营地里有来自平原地区所有部族的一万到一万五千个印第安人。
克雷格知道，在平原印第安人的社会里，十五岁到三十几岁的男子会被视为战士。因此，平原部落中有六分之一的人口是战士。这就意味着，河边有两千个这样的战士。而且，他们刚刚得知西北平原上到处是鹿和羚羊，这个时候，他们是不会老老实实回保留地去的。
更糟糕的是，没有人料到这些印第安人已经会合，并且在一星期前打败了克鲁克将军。他们对这些蓝衣士兵没有丝毫恐惧，也没有像前一天的高麋人那样外出打猎。事实上，在二十四日晚上，他们为战胜了克鲁克将军举行了盛大的庆祝活动。
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Notes: