Chapter 38 second quarter
The reason why the celebration would be postponed for a week was simple: they were mourning for their loved ones who died during the battle with Crook on the 17th, which lasted exactly one week, so the celebration could only be held seven days later.On the morning of the 25th, the soldiers just woke up from the activities of the previous night.They were not out hunting, and they were still painted all over.
Even so, Craig knew it wasn't the same village as the sleeping Black Kettle tribe by the Ouachita River.In the afternoon, Custer dispersed his forces in one last and deadliest attempt.
Craig watched as Major Raynor left, leading the team down the stream toward the crossing.At the front of Company B, Captain Acton took a look at the scout who had almost been sentenced to death, forced a smile, and continued riding forward.Sergeant Braddock sneered at Craig as he passed behind him.Within two hours, both men would be dead, and Renault, who had been banished to the top of the hill, would be trapped in place along with the remaining officers and soldiers of the three companies.They would try to hold their ground until Custer came back to rescue them, but Custer never came back and it was General Terry who freed them two days later.
Craig watched another hundred and fifty cowering officers and soldiers make their way down the stream.Although he wasn't a soldier, he didn't have much faith in them either.Among Custer's subordinates, 30% of the soldiers are newly recruited recruits who have only received the most basic training.Some have just learned to ride a horse in practice, but lose control when they go into battle.Others haven't even learned to handle a Springfield rifle.
Another 40 percent of the soldiers, despite being in the army longer, had never shot an Indian or encountered them in an encounter, and many had only seen meek, disciplined soldiers on reservations. Indians, never seen a real Indian.When a large group of howling, painted nomadic tribesmen rushed out to protect their wives and children, he didn't know how the soldiers would react to it.He had a terrible premonition, and it really came true.But by that time, it was too late.
He knew that there was one last reason for Castor's disdain.Contrary to the legend, the Plains Indians regarded life as sacred and cherished it very much.Even on the march, they cannot afford heavy casualties, and usually stop fighting after losing two or three good fighters.However, it was their parents, wives and children that Custer wanted to attack.The mere defense of honor will make them fight until the last warrior dies.Never show mercy.
As Major Renault's three companies headed away down the stream, Custer ordered that the baggage-handling vehicles be left where they were, guarded by one of the remaining six companies.He took five companies, E Company, C Company, L Company, I Company, and F Company, and turned north.The Indians in the valley couldn't see him because of the hills, but he couldn't see them either.
He turned to Military Police Sergeant Lewis and said, "Take the prisoners. When the Seventh Regiment rushes in, he'll see what happens to his friends."
Then he turned and rode off at a quick trot north.Five companies of officers and soldiers followed behind him, a total of 250 people.Craig realizes that Castor is still unaware of the danger.He took three civilians to watch the battle, one of whom was Mark Kellogg, a lean and bespectacled military reporter.What's even more exaggerated is that Custer also took two young relatives with him, and he must be responsible for them.The two relatives were his youngest brother, Boston Custer, nineteen years old, and his sixteen-year-old nephew, Ottie Reed.
The soldiers lined up in two columns, half a mile long.Behind Custer rode his adjutant, Captain Cook, and behind him was John Martin, the general's orderly for the day and regimental trumpeter.His real name was Gisper Martino, and he was an Italian immigrant and one-time butler whose English was still rather limited.Sergeant Lewis and Ben Craig, bound, walked thirty feet behind Custer.
They galloped up the hill, and though they were still under the crest, they could turn in the saddle and see Major Raynor and his men crossing the Little Bighorn for an attack from the south.At this time, Custer noticed that the Crow and Aricla scouts were crying, so he told them to ride back.They turned away immediately and survived.
In this way, the troops traveled three miles up the mountain road, no longer blocked by the peaks on the left, and finally able to look down on the valley below.Big Sergeant Lewis pulled the bridle of Craig's horse.He gasped and said softly, "Oh my God." On the far bank was a sea of tents.
Even from that distance, Craig could still make out the shape of the tents, the color of their trim, and identify which tribe they belonged to.The tents belong to six different villages.
Plains Indians marched in procession when they migrated, tribe after tribe.When they stopped to camp, the different villages settled separately, so that the whole camp seemed long and narrow.Downstream on the opposite bank, six circles lined up in a row.
They had been migrating north until they came to a halt a few days ago.The honorable task of opening the road was given to the Northern Cheyenne, so their village was the northernmost.Next came the Sioux, their closest allies.Then came the San Aksu, and then the Blackfoot.The second village counted from the south is Minnikonjo. At the southernmost point, it is also being attacked by Major Renault at this time. It is the village of Hookpaha, the tail of the team. Its leader is also the most revered shaman of the Sioux. , is sophisticated.
Others were present, Santee, Breuer and Assini Bensu living with their respective relatives.Unseen by the Seventh Regiment, on the backside of the hillside that still blocked the view, Major Raynor's attack on the Hookpaha tribe at the southern tip was about to turn into a catastrophe.The Hookpajas had swarmed out of their tents, many on horseback, all armed and counterattacked.
It was almost two o'clock in the afternoon. Soldiers on pony horses circled around from the left flank on the grassland. Renault's men and horses had been forced to retreat to the river just crossed and hid in a nearby poplar forest. middle.
Many soldiers had already dismounted in the forest, and the rest were either unable to control the horses they were riding, or had been thrown off by the horses.Some dropped their rifles, which the Hookpaja happily picked up.Soon, the remaining soldiers would have to wade back across the same river, take refuge on a hill, and endure a thirty-six-hour siege.
General Custer looked at the scene in front of him, while Craig, who was a short distance away, was looking at the Indian killer.Women and children could be seen in the camp, but no fighters.Castor thought it was a surprise.Craig heard Custer yelling to the company commanders surrounding him, "Let's go down here and take this village."
Then he summoned Captain Cook and dictated an order.The order was addressed to Captain Bentien, who had already been dispatched into the wilderness.Cook scribbled down the order: "Come on. Big village. Quick. Bring the pack." He meant the ammunition.He gave the order to trumpeter Martino.
The Italian Martino miraculously found Captain Bentien, for the alert Bentien had given up his vain pursuit through the wilderness, returned to the stream, and finally joined Major Renault on the besieged hill.But by that time, they were already unable to break through to rescue Custer who had suffered a catastrophe.
As Martino rode back down the trail, Craig turned from the saddle to look at him.He saw twenty-four soldiers from Captain Yates' Company F also flee on horseback.Nobody stopped them.Craig turned to look at Castor in front of him.Was this self-righteous man not at all alert?
Standing in his stirrups, the general lifted his cream straw hat over his head and called out to his troops: "Well, lads, see them."
These were the last words heard by the departing trumpeter Martino.Later, when questioned, he also reported this sentence.Craig noticed that, like many people with blond hair, Custer, who was only thirty-six, was a little bald.Although nicknamed "Longhair" by the Indians, Custer had shaved his hair short for the summer campaign.Perhaps because of this, the Oglala women later failed to recognize him where he had fallen.The fighters also decided that it was not worth scalping him as a trophy.
After raising his hat to salute, Custer rode his horse and ran forward, followed by the remaining 210 officers and soldiers.The terrain in front of the river bank is relatively flat, which is suitable for rushing down the mountain.After half a mile the troops turned to the left, and company after company ran down the hillside, forded the river, and prepared to attack.At this time, the Cheyenne village exploded.
Soldiers poured out like a swarm of bumblebees, most of them shirtless and painted with battle paint, rushing to the river with screams of "uh, huh, huh", wading across the river to the east bank, Rush to Custer's five companies.The soldiers in blue stopped halfway.
Next to Craig, Sergeant Lewis reined in the horse, and Craig again heard him exclaim softly, "My God."As soon as the Cheyenne had crossed the river, they jumped off their ponies and started on foot.Once on the bank, they disappeared among the tall weeds, stood up and ran forward a few steps before disappearing again.The first rain of arrows began to shoot at the cavalry.An arrow shot in the side of a warhorse, howling in agony, raised its forelegs and threw its rider off the ground.
"Dismount. Use the horse for cover."
The shout came from Custer.No one needs a second round of orders.Craig noticed that some soldiers pulled their Colt 45s from their holsters, fired bullets directly into the foreheads of their horses, and used the horse's carcass as a defense.They were smart in doing so.
There are no defenses on the hills, no rocks or boulders to hide from.After the soldiers sprang to the ground, several left their respective companies, took the reins of a dozen horses, and led them back to the top of the hill.Sergeant Lewis turned his own horse and Craig's around and trotted back up the hill.There they joined the wandering herd that had just been led out by a dozen cavalrymen.It was not long before the horses began to smell the Indians.They run restlessly, or lift their front legs, and swing the cavalry on their backs.Lewis and Craig watched them from the saddle.After the first attack, the battlefield calmed down.But the Indians did not stop there, they were moving, ready to outflank them.
It was later rumored that it was the Sioux who defeated Custer that day.actually not.It was the Cheyenne who initiated most frontal attacks.The Cheyenne village was Custer's first target.In order to defend their village, the fellow Oglalasu followed the Cheyenne's advice and rushed to reinforce them, moving forward from the flank and cutting off the retreat of the Union army.From his vantage point, Craig could see the Oglala slipping into the thick grass on the far left and right flanks.Within twenty minutes the troops would have lost all hope of retreating.The howling rain of bullets and arrows approached.A cavalryman fell to the ground after being shot in the throat, gasping and screaming.
The Indians had some rifles, and even a few old-fashioned flintlocks, but not many.At dusk they would re-arm themselves with heavy use of the new Springfield rifles and Colt pistols.They mainly use bows, which has two advantages for them.Bows are silent weapons that do not reveal the shooter's position.That afternoon, many of the soldiers in blue were shot in the chest and died before they could see their target.Another advantage was that the rain of arrows could be shot high into the air and fall almost vertically on the cavalry.This works especially well against warhorses.In less than an hour, more than a dozen war horses were shot by falling arrows.They threw off their riders, broke free from the reins, and trotted back down the path.The other uninjured horses followed suit.Before the soldiers died, the horses had run away, and with them all hope of escape.Fear spread like wildfire among the soldiers.Several old officers and non-commissioned officers have lost control of their subordinates.
The leader of that Cheyenne village was Little Wolf, who happened to be away.An hour had passed since the fight ended when he returned.He was blamed by everyone for his absence.In fact, he had just led a reconnaissance party to search for Custer on the upper Rosebud River, and crossed the watershed to the Little Bighorn River.
During his trip, he handed over leadership to a seasoned warrior, a guest from the southern Cheyenne tribe known as "the lame white man."In his mid-thirties, he was neither lame nor white.When a group of cavalry of about thirty men under the command of an officer attempted to break out to the river, he charged alone and broke their morale, at the cost of his own heroic sacrifice.But the thirty soldiers never made it back to the hillside.Their deaths made their comrades lose hope of survival.
From the hill, Lewis and Craig heard the prayers and cries of the soldiers as they faced their deaths.A cavalry boy broke through the encirclement, crying like a child, and ran up the hill to find the last horse or two.Within seconds, four arrows shot into his back.He fell to the ground and convulsed.
Lewis and Craig on horseback had already entered the shooting range, and several arrows whized past them.There were perhaps fifty or a hundred soldiers still alive on the hillside below, but half of them must have been shot or shot.Occasionally, a warrior seeking personal glory would suddenly charge forward, ignore the hail of bullets, pass directly over the crouching soldiers, and then ride away unharmed, earning applause accompanied by loud screams .
Every soldier present thought it was a battle cry.Craig knows better.The howling of the Indian's charge was not for battle but for death: his own death.He's just voicing his heart out to the ubiquitous gods.
What really killed the 7th Cavalry that day, though, was the soldiers' fear of capture and torture.Every soldier was brainwashed by stories that the Indians would torture their captives to death.In general, none of these stories are true.
Plains Indians had no POW culture.They had no facilities for disposing of prisoners of war.However, if the enemy has lost more than half of their personnel, it can be an honorable surrender.After seventy minutes Custer must have lost half his men.But according to the tradition of the Indians, if the opponent persists in fighting, they will usually kill every single one.
If captured alive, the prisoner could be tortured in only two cases: if the person was identified and found to have broken his formal vow never to fight the Indians of the tribe; People are greedy for life and afraid of death in battle.In either case, a person's reputation will be discredited.
In the cultures of the Sioux and the Cheyenne, a person's reputation can be restored only if he has a strong will and a strong will to withstand pain.Liars or cowards should be given the opportunity to suffer.Custer had sworn to the Cheyenne never to fight them again.After two tribal women recognized Custer among the fallen officers and soldiers, they poked his eardrum with a steel cone so that he could hear better next time.
The Cheyenne and Sioux pockets tightened, and fear spread like a bushfire among the remaining soldiers.Since there was no non-smoking ammunition in that era, the visibility was not very good when fighting at that time.An hour later, the hill was shrouded in gunpowder smoke.And now, out of the smoke came these painted savages.Those soldiers began to think wildly.Years later, an English poet named Kipling would write lines like this:
None of the last survivors on the hill survived to hear Kipling's poem, but what he described was exactly what they did.Craig heard the first burst of pistol fire as the wounded took their own lives to avoid torture.He turned to Sergeant Lewis.
The big man next to him was very pale, and their two horses were about to lose control.The trail back was no longer an escape route; it was full of Oglalasu.
"Sergeant, you won't let me die like a chained pig," the scout called to him.Lewis thought his duty was over, slid off the horse, drew his saber, and slit the two straps that bound Craig's ankles to the horse's girth.
At this time, three things happened in less than a second.Two arrows entered the sergeant's chest from a distance of no more than a hundred feet.He looked at the arrow on his chest in a little surprise, with the knife still in his hand, then his knees softened and he fell to the ground.
Even closer to Craig, a Sioux stood up from the tall weeds and opened fire on Craig with an old-fashioned flintlock.He apparently filled it with too much black powder in order to increase the range, and unfortunately, he forgot to remove the cleaning rod.The barrel of the gun exploded and burst into flames, blasting the man's right hand into a pulp.He'd lose most of his head if he'd fired the gun at shoulder level, but he'd fired it low.
The blow rod of the musket shot out of the barrel like a quivering javelin.Craig was confronting the man just now.The blow rod went into the chest of his steed, straight to the heart.Craig, whose hands were still bound, struggled to free himself as the horse fell.He fell on his back, hit his head on the rock and passed out.
Within ten minutes, the last white soldier of Custer's force on the hill was dead.Although Scout Craig couldn't see it because he was unconscious, the fight ended extremely quickly.The Sioux warriors later described this minute in this way: a dozen or so last survivors were still resisting just now, and the ubiquitous gods wiped them all out in a second.In fact, most soldiers just "rolled to their rifles" or used their Colts.Some helped wounded comrades end their lives, others took their own.
When Ben Craig came to, his head was still buzzing with pain from the impact of the rock.He opened one eye, and he was lying on his side on the ground, his hands still tied, one cheek pressed to the ground.The blades of grass were close in front of his eyes.After clearing his mind, he noticed the sound of people walking around in soft-soled shoes, talking excitedly, and cheering for victory from time to time.His sight also came back.
On the hillside there were people running bare-legged in moccasin moccasins, Sioux warriors looking for trophies.Someone must have seen his eyelids blink.First there was a triumphant cry, and then strong, powerful hands helped him to his feet.
Around him were four fighters, faces crookedly painted, still in a killing frenzy.He saw someone lift a stone stick and try to smash his head.As he sat waiting to die, he wondered for no reason what life would be like in another world.The stone stick did not come down, a voice said: "Stop."
He looked up.The man who had just spoken was standing ten feet away on a pony.The setting sun shone on the right shoulder of the rider, and under the dazzling light, the image of the man became a silhouette.
His hair, uncombed, fell over his shoulders and back like a cape.He wasn't carrying a spear, or even a steel axe, so he was clearly not a Cheyenne.
The pony on the man's crotch took a step aside; the sunlight was blocked behind him, and the light was even weaker.Craig saw the rider's figure more clearly in his face.
The white and white pony was not the black and white pony that most Indians rode, nor the piebald, but a light brown, often called the golden buckskin color.Craig had heard of the pony.
The person riding on it was naked, with only a cloth strip around his waist, and moccasin soft shoes on his feet.He dresses like a warrior, but is actually a leader.He doesn't have a shield on his left forearm, meaning he doesn't like personal protection, but a stone club dangles from his left hand.Hence, the Sioux.
The stone staff is a fearsome weapon.The handle was eighteen inches long, and the head was a fork.Embedded in the fork is a smooth stone the size of a goose egg.The stones are tied with straps.These straps were soaked before for whipping, and when they were dried in the sun, the straps shrunk and tightened so the stone wouldn't fall out.These clubs can break arms, shoulder bones, or ribs, and hit people on the head like walnuts.This weapon can only be used at close range, so it brings more honor.
When he spoke again, it was in Oglalasu, the language closest to Cheyenne, so the Scout could understand it.
"Why do you tie up your enemies like this?"
"We didn't, chief. That's how we found him, bound by one of our own."
Deep eyes fell on the straps that still bound Craig's ankles.The Sioux leader noticed, but said nothing.He sat in the saddle, lost in thought.His chest and shoulders were painted in circles representing hailstones, and a black bolt of lightning ran from the edge of his hairline to the bullet scar on his jaw.He doesn't wear other jewelry, but Craig knows his name.Before him was the legendary Crazy Horse, the undisputed leader of the Oglalasu for the past twelve years.From the age of twenty-six, he was revered for his fearlessness, mystery and self-restraint.
An evening wind from the river stirred the chief's hair, the long grass on the ground, and the feather on the back of the scout's head.Now the feathers had settled on his buckskin shoulders.Crazy Horse noticed too.It is a mark of honor bestowed by the Cheyenne people.
"Don't kill him," ordered the military chief, "take him to the chief of Sitting Bull for trial."
Disappointed to lose this opportunity for plunder, the warriors obeyed.Craig was dragged to his feet and walked down the hill to the river.In the half mile he walked, he saw the results of the massacre.
Deducting the scouts and deserters, the bodies of a total of 210 officers and soldiers in the five companies were lying on the hillside in disorder.The Indians are scavenging the corpses for anything that could be trophies and cutting them up according to the different traditions of each tribe.The Cheyenne chopped off legs so the dead could not chase them; the Sioux smashed heads and faces with stone clubs; other tribes mutilated arms and legs, and cut off heads.
Fifty yards down the hill, Craig saw the body of George Armstrong Custer.He was completely naked except for a pair of blue cotton socks on his feet, and his body was as white as marble in the sun.He was not dismembered, only his eardrum was pierced.When General Terry's officers and soldiers found him later, he still looked like this.
The contents of the pockets and saddlebags were taken: rifles, of course pistols, with ample ammunition left over, tobacco pouches, all-steel case watches, wallets with family pictures, everything that could have been trophies.Then there are hats, boots and uniforms.The hillsides are full of Indian warriors and women.
There was a herd of ponies on the bank of the river.Craig was helped onto one of the horses, and he and four escorts waded across the Little Bighorn to the west bank.As they made their way through the Cheyenne village, the women came out and screamed at the surviving white man, but when they saw the eagle feather, they fell silent.Is this a friend, or a traitor?
The five trotted past the San Aksu and Minnikonjo camps to the Hookpaha village.The camp roared loudly.
The warriors did not meet Custer on the hill; they met Major Raynor and fought him off.The rest of Raynor's troops, who had crossed the river, were still besieged on the hills. Bentien and the mule train had joined them, and they were still wondering why Custer didn't ride down from the hills to rescue them.
The warriors of Blackfoot, Minnikonjo, and Hookpaha rode about, showing off their trophies from the corpses of Raynor's men.Craig saw scalps with blond or ginger hair flying in the air.Watched by screaming women, they arrived at the hut of the great shaman and judge Sitting Bull.
The Oglala who served as escort explained Crazy Horse's orders, handed him over, and rode back to the hillside to find the prize.Craig was roughly thrown into a teepee, where he was guarded by two elderly women who obeyed orders and held sharp knives.
It was already late at night when someone came to interrogate him.A dozen fighters came in and dragged him out.The bonfire has been lit.Under the firelight, the soldiers who were still painted looked terrible, but the atmosphere had calmed down.A mile away, across the aspen grove and the river, in the darkness out of sight, there were sporadic shots.That meant the Sioux were still climbing the mountain, attacking Raynor's defensive circle on the cliff.
The Sioux lost thirty-one men at either end of the vast camp throughout the campaign.Although a total of 1,800 warriors had fought and the enemy had been wiped out, they still felt a heavy loss.The camp was full of women weeping over the bodies of their husbands and sons, preparing them for their final journey.
The bonfire in the center of Hookpaha village is bigger than anywhere else, surrounded by more than a dozen chiefs, and Sitting Bull is the highest among them.He was just forty then, but he looked older, his bronzed face darker and more deeply lined in the firelight.Like Crazy Horse, he is revered for once foretelling the fate of his people and the buffalo of the plains.The vision of that prophecy was bleak: he had seen his people wiped out by the white men.Everyone knew that he hated white people.Craig was thrown twenty feet to Sitting Bull's left so that the flames would not obscure his view.They all stare at Craig for a moment.Sitting Bull gave an order that Craig couldn't understand.A fighter draws a knife and walks behind Craig.He waited for the fatal blow.
The knife cut the cords that bound his wrists.For the first time in twenty-four hours, he could put his hands in front of him.He realized that his hands had no feeling yet.Blood began to flow back, first a sharp prick, then pain.He endured it quietly.
Sitting Bull spoke again, this time to him.He didn't understand, but answered in Cheyenne.The crowd was amazed.One of the Cheyenne chiefs called "Twin Moons" spoke.
"The supreme leader asked, why did the white man tie you up on the horse with your hands behind your back?"
"I offended them," replied the Scout.
"Is it serious?" In the ensuing interrogation, Shuangyue undertook the translation work.
"The leader of the blue army is going to hang me. Tomorrow."
"What did you do?"
Craig thought about it.Had Braddock destroyed the High Moose camp the morning before?He started from that incident until he was sentenced to hang.He noticed that Double Moon nodded at the mention of High Elk's camp.He already knows.Every time he finished a sentence, he had to pause for Shuangyue to translate it into Su language.When he had finished, there was a quiet moment of discussion.Shuangyue called one of his men.
"Ride back to our village. Bring Gao Mo and his daughter here."
The warrior walked up to the bridle pony, mounted it and rode away.Sitting Bull started asking questions again.
"Why are you fighting the 'Reds'?"
"They told me they were here because the Sioux was running off the reservations in North and South Dakota. There was no mention of killing people, but then 'Longhair' went crazy."
There was another buzz of discussion. "Is the long hair here?" It was Shuangyue who asked.For the first time, Craig realized they didn't even know who they were fighting.
"He's dead on the hillside across the river."
The leaders discussed for a while, then fell silent.Meetings are serious business and there is no need to rush them.An hour and a half later, Shuangyue asked, "Why do you wear this white mountain eagle feather?"
Craig explained.Ten years earlier, when he was a boy of fourteen, he had joined a group of young Cheyenne men and gone hunting with them in the mountains.All had bows and arrows except Craig, who was allowed to borrow Donaldson's Sharps rifle.They were suddenly attacked by an old grizzly bear.It was a irascible old fellow, almost toothless, but its front paws were so powerful that it only took one blow to kill.It emerged from the bushes and rushed towards it with a loud roar.
At this moment, a soldier behind Shuangyue asked for an interruption.
"I remember the story. It happened in my cousin's village."
There is nothing quite like a good story around a campfire.The warrior was invited to continue the story, and the Sioux couldn't wait to hear Shuangyue's translation.
"Old Grizzly was like a mountain, moving very fast. The Cheyenne boys scattered and climbed up the trees. But the white boy took careful aim and fired. The bullet went under the Grizzly's chin and into his chest .It stood on its hind legs, as high as a pine tree, and though it was dying, it still lunged forward."
"The white boy ejected the case, loaded another bullet, and fired again. The second bullet went into its roaring jaws, through the roof, and through the brain. The old grizzly took another step forward, then fell It was on the ground. Its huge head was in sight, and spit and dirty blood spattered the boy's knees. But he didn't move."
"They sent a messenger to the village, and the warriors came with a sledge, skinned the monster, and took it back to make a nightgown for my cousin's father. Then they gave a party and gave the white man The boy was given a new name, 'Fearless Killer Bear'. He was also given an eagle feather that only hunters can get. It was a tradition in our village many months ago, before we moved onto the reservation. story."
The leaders nodded frequently.It's a good story.A party of men arrived on ponies.Behind is a sled.Two men whom Craig had never seen before came to the campfire.Judging by their clothes and braids, they were Cheyenne.
One of them is the little wolf.He described seeing smoke rising over the waters of the Rosebud River while hunting east of the river.He went to investigate and found women and children massacred.There he heard that the soldiers in blue had returned, so he followed them day and night, and followed them to the valley where the camp was located.But he arrived too late and missed the big fight.
The other one is the tall moose.He came back from hunting only after the large troop had left.When his daughter returned, he was still grieving for the women and children who had been killed.She was wounded but still alive.He and nine other warriors rode night and day to find the Cheyenne encampment.They had just arrived before the battle started, so they volunteered to join the battle.He tried to kill himself on the hill where Custer was, and killed five white warriors, but the ubiquitous gods did not call him.
The girl on the sled was the last to speak.She was pale with the pain of the wound and the fatigue of driving all the way from the Rosebud River, but she spoke clearly.
She talked about the massacre, and about the big man with the stripes on his sleeve.She couldn't understand his words, but she understood what he wanted to do before she died.She told how the man in buckskin gave her water, fed her, and carried her on a pony to return her to her family.
The chiefs began to exchange ideas.After they brainstormed to make a decision, it was announced by Sitting Bull.The white man can live, but he cannot go back to his own people.He'd be killed by them, or he'd tell them where the Sioux were.He should be in the care of High Moose.High elk can treat him as a prisoner or as a guest.In the spring he could be free or remain with the Cheyenne.
The warriors around the campfire agreed.That's fair.Craig rode back with Tall Elk to a teepee allotted to him, guarded by two warriors through the night.The next morning, the big camp packed up their things and prepared to leave.But scouts came back at dawn with word that there were more blue-shirted men to the north, so they decided to head south to the Big Horn Mountains to see if the white men would follow.
High Moose is generous and accepts Craig into his family.Craig picked one of the four uninjured horses the Indians had found.The Indians preferred endurance ponies, and war horses were of little value in their eyes.This is because there are few horses that can adapt to the harsh winters of the plains.战马需要干草，可是印第安人从来不采集这些，它们很难像矮种马那样，靠地衣、苔藓和柳皮就能活过冬天。克雷格选了一匹他觉得应该能适应的栗色母马，模样粗犷、瘦瘦高高，并起名为“罗斯巴德”，以纪念他与轻风姑娘相遇的地方。
因为印第安人从不使用马鞍，他很快便选中了一副。他还找到了被其他人收为战利品的夏普斯步枪和猎刀，尽管对方不太情愿，最后也物归原主了。在山头上他那匹死去了的战马的鞍袋里，他发现了夏普斯步枪的弹药。山坡上被洗劫一空。印第安人把他们喜欢的物品全都拿走了。他们对白人扔在草丛里随风飘扬的那些纸片不感兴趣。这其中，就有威廉·库克上尉写下的第一次审讯记录。
拆卸村落花了一上午。他们拆下圆锥形帐篷，收拾好炊具，把妇女和孩子们的包袱装在许许多多雪橇上。午后不久，部落人上路了。
死者被留了下来，躺在他们原先的圆锥形帐篷外面，被涂上了去另一个世界的油彩，身上披着他们最好的衣袍，旁边还放着象征各自级别的羽毛头饰。不过，他们所有的日常手工制品都按照传统留在了地上。
从北方山谷过来的特里将军的部队在第二天发现这一情况时，会认为苏人和夏延人是匆匆离去的。其实不然：把死者的物品分散地摆在地上是种习俗。不管怎么说，这些物品都将被掠走。
即便平原印第安人会辩解说，他们只想打猎、不想打仗，但克雷格知道，联邦军队将会从失败中恢复过来，找他们复仇。就算现在不来，以后也一定会来。坐牛的议事委员会也知道这一点。于是，他们在几天之内就达成共识，各部落分成更小的群体，各自行动。这将给蓝衣官兵的工作增加难度，也会让印第安人有更大的机会在荒野里度过冬天，而不是被赶回达科他州的保留地，捱过一个半饥不饱的冬天。
克雷格与高麋家族的剩余成员一起骑马行走。在罗斯巴德河畔失去女眷和孩子的十个猎人中，两个已在小大角河畔战死，还有两个负了伤。腰部受了轻伤的一位战士选择骑行。另一个伤员在近距离内被步枪子弹射穿了肩膀，他躺在一张雪橇上。高麋和另外五名男子将会找到新的女人。为此，他们已经与另两个大家庭会合，组成了一个有六十名男女老少的部落。
当关于分开行动的集体决定传到他们那里时，他们找委员会商量自己该去哪里。大多数人认为应该南下去怀俄明，躲进大角山脉中。他们要求克雷格发表意见。
“蓝军官兵会去那里。”他说。他用一根棍子画出大角河的线条，“他们会到南方，在这里寻找你们，还有东部的这里。可我知道在西部的一个地方，叫普赖尔山。我就是在那里长大的。”
他向他们讲述了普赖尔山脉。
“低缓的山坡上到处是猎物。森林很密，茂密的树枝可以遮挡炊烟。溪水里鱼虾成群，山上还有湖泊，湖里也有许多鱼。白人从来不去那里。”
部落同意了。七月一日，他们离开了夏延人的大部队，在克雷格的引导下朝西北方向的蒙大拿南部行进。特里将军的巡逻队以大角山为中心，朝四面八方搜寻印第安人的踪迹，但他们不会深入到那么远的地方。七月中旬，他们抵达普赖尔山。那地方果然和克雷格描述的一样。
在树枝的遮掩下，半英里以外就看不见这些圆锥形帐篷了。在今天被称为“孤峰”的一块附近的岩石上，看守者能看见好几英里以外的地方，但没人过来。猎人们在林中捕获了许多鹿和羚羊，孩子们在溪流里垂钓鲑鱼。
轻风姑娘年轻又健康。
干净的伤口痊愈得很快，现在，她又能像一只轻盈的小鹿那样奔跑了。当她给部落的男子们送饭时，克雷格偶尔会与她四目相交，每当这时，他的心就会狂跳不止。她则不动声色，遇到他的眼神时，她就低头朝下看。当她看到他那双深蓝色眼眸，体内似乎有某种东西要溶化了，胸腔也快要爆炸，这些他都无从得知。
那年初秋，他们相爱了。
女人们注意到了。她为男人们送完饭回来时，脸蛋总是红扑扑的，鹿皮束腰外衣的胸口总是急剧地起伏着。年长的妇女会开心地咯咯笑。她的母亲和姨妈都没有活下来，部落里的女子们来自不同的家庭，但那十二个未婚、同时也是合格的战士的男人中，有她们的儿子。她们不知道是谁点燃了这个美丽姑娘的激情。她们逗她快点说出来，免得她的情人被另一个姑娘偷走。但她告诉这些女人，她不知道她们在说些什么。
九月份，树叶开始掉落，营地迁到更高的山上，躲在针叶树林的遮蔽之下。到了十月份，夜间变得寒气逼人，但打猎还是很容易，矮种马吃完最后一批草料，然后才会转去吃地衣、苔藓和树皮。罗斯巴德已经像周围的矮种马那样适应了这里的环境。克雷格时常下山去草原，带回一袋新鲜的青草，用猎刀切细了喂它吃。
假如轻风有母亲，那么她也许会与高麋商量此事，但问题是，她没有母亲，所以当她最终亲自去告诉父亲时，他顿时勃然大怒。
她怎么能去想这种事情？白人摧毁了她的家庭。这个人将会回到他自己人那边去，而她在那里不会有容身之地。更何况，在小大角河畔肩部中弹的那位印第安战士，现在差不多已经痊愈。断裂的肩骨终于接合了，不是局部，而是完全愈合。他是“走鹰”，也是一位优秀而又勇敢的战士。他将成为她的未婚夫。这事第二天就要宣布。Just do it.
高麋心绪不宁。很可能那个白人也是如此。从现在起，必须不分日夜地监视他。他不能回到白人那里去；他知道他们扎营的地方。他要留在这里过冬，但得有人看管着。that's it.
克雷格突然被安排住到了另一户家庭的帐篷里。有另外三名战士与他合住同一间屋子，他们警惕地注视着他在夜间的一举一动。
十月底的时候，轻风来找他了。他睁着眼睛躺在帐篷里，心中正思念着她。这时候，一把刀子缓慢而悄无声息地划破了圆锥形帐篷的一边。他轻手轻脚地爬起来，钻出破洞。她站在月光下迎视他。他们第一次拥抱在一起，炽热的爱在他们之间流动。
她挣脱开来，后退一步并招了招手。他跟了上去，一起穿过树林来到营地视野以外的一个地方。罗斯巴德已被挂上马鞍，一件野牛皮睡袍卷好了放在马鞍后面。他的步枪挂在马肩上的一只长筒枪套里。鞍袋里装满了食物和弹药。一匹白斑色矮种马也已经配上缰绳。他转过身来，和她吻在一起。寒冷的夜晚似乎在他周围旋转。她在他耳边轻声说：“带我去你的山里，本·克雷格，让我成为你的女人。”
“现在，直到永远，轻风。”
他们跨上马轻轻地穿越树林来到一片开阔平地，然后一路下坡经过孤山，朝着平原疾驰而去。日出时，他们回到了山脚下。黎明时，一小队克劳人远远地看见他们，然后转向北方，沿着博兹曼小道朝埃利斯堡前行。
夏延人来追他们了；一共六个人，速度很快。他们轻装出发，肩上斜挂着步枪，腰里插着斧子，屁股下垫着手工编织的毯子。他们接到的命令是，走鹰的未婚妻要活着带回来，那个白人则应该去死。
克劳人小分队朝北骑行，走得很艰苦。其中一人夏天时在军队里当过侦察兵，知道蓝军部队已经贴出布告，重金悬赏捉拿那个白人叛徒，赏金多得足以购买许多马匹和物品。
他们最终没有去博兹曼小道。在黄石河以南二十英里处，他们遇上了由一个中尉带领的巡逻小队，一共有十个人。克劳人解释了他们所看到的情形，他们基本是在用手势比划，但中尉能明白。他让巡逻队去南面的山区，要克劳人充当向导，在前面探路。
那年夏天，卡斯特及其部下遭屠杀的消息如同冷空气般横扫美国。在遥远的东部，国家领导人于一八七六年七月四日在费城聚集，庆祝一百周年国庆。来自西部边疆的那条消息令人难以置信。当局下令要立即展开调查。
那次战斗之后，特里将军的士兵们已经清理了那片不祥的山坡，期望能找到对这场灾难的解释。苏人和夏延人已于二十四小时之前离去，特里也没有心思追击。雷诺少校的残余部队已被解救出来，但除了当时看着卡斯特率领官兵骑马走出视线进入山丘后面以外，他们什么也不知道。
在山坡上，每一片证据都被收集并保存了起来，正在腐败的尸体要赶快掩埋。在收集到的物品中，有夹在草丛中的几张纸片，其中有库克上尉所作的笔录。
当时站在卡斯特身后参与审问本·克雷格的官兵们，没有一个活下来，但上尉副官所记录的内容足以说明一切。对于这场灾难，军队需要一个理由。现在他们有了一个：那些野蛮人预先得到了警告，并已做好准备。毫不知情的卡斯特中了大埋伏。而且，军方有了一个替罪羊。经验不足不能作为理由被接受，但背叛可以。悬赏一千美元捉拿侦察兵克雷格的布告贴出来了，不论死活。
叛徒克雷格已失去踪迹多时，直到这一小队克劳人看见了这个逃亡者，后面还跟着一个印第安姑娘，两人在十月最后那几天里骑马跑出了普赖尔山区。
中尉部下的马匹在夜里休息过，而且已经吃饱喝足，现在它们精神饱满。于是，他率领战士们骑上马朝南方奔去。他的职业生涯来到了一个关键时刻。
日出后不久，克雷格和轻风抵达了普赖尔山口，这是夹在主山脉和西普赖尔峰之间的一道低矮的隘口。他们越过隘口，策马慢跑穿过西普赖尔山脚来到荒野之中。崎岖的山区里都是长满荒草的山脊和隘谷，向西绵延达五十英里。
Notes:
Notes: