Following the Guidon (Illustrated Edition). Elizabeth Bacon Custer

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      CHAPTER IV.

       BATTLE OF THE WASHITA.

       Table of Contents

      The orders for moving towards the Indian Village were issued on the evening of November 22d. It began to snow, and our men stood round the camp-fire for their breakfast at five o'clock the next morning, the snow almost up to their knees. The Seventh, consisting of nine hundred men, were to leave General Sheridan and the infantry, and all the extra wagons and supplies, and strike out into this blinding storm. General Sheridan, awake with anxiety at reveille, called out to ask what General Custer thought about the snow and the storm. The reply was, "All the better for us; we can move, the Indian cannot." The packing was soon done, as every ounce of superfluous baggage was left behind, and forward our brave fellows pushed into the slowly coming dawn.

      The air was so filled with the fine snow that it was perilous to separate one's self even a short distance from the column. The Indian guides could not see any landmarks, and had it not been for the compass of the commanding officer, an advance would have been impossible. The fifteen miles of the first day's march would have been a small affair except for the snow; but the day dragged, and when at night camp was made in some timber bordering a creek, the snow still fell so fast that the officers themselves helped to shovel it away while the soldiers stretched the small amount of canvas that was spread. Fortunately, even at that late season, fresh meat was secured for all the command, for in the underbrush of the streams one out of a group of benumbed buffaloes was easily killed.

      In crossing the Canadian River, the quicksands, the floating snow and ice, were faced uncomplainingly, and the nine hundred wet soldiers started up the opposite side without a murmur.

      Finally the Indian trail, so long looked for, was struck, and the few wagons were ordered to halt; and only such supplies as could be carried on the person or the horse, consisting of rations, forage, and a hundred rounds of ammunition for each trooper, were taken. The detail of the officer to remain with the train (always assigned according to turn) fell to one of the finest of our officers. But Captain Hamilton was not to yield his privilege of being in a fight so readily. He appealed to go, and finally the commanding officer thought out a way by which it might be accomplished, for he was thoroughly in sympathy with the soldier spirit of this dauntless young fellow. If another officer could be found to take his place, he could be relieved from the odious detail. One of the Seventh was suffering from snow-blindness, and to this misfortune was Captain Hamilton indebted for his change of duty. In the long confidential talks about the camp-fires he had expressed an ardent desire to be in an Indian fight, and when the subject of death came up, as it did in the wide range of subjects that comrades in arms discussed, he used to say, "When my hour to die comes, I hope that I shall be shot through the heart in battle."

      The first hours of following the trail were terribly hard. Men and horses suffered for food, for from four in the morning till nine at night no halt could be made. Then by hiding under the deep banks of the stream, fires were lighted, and the men had coffee and the horses oats; but no bugle sounded, no voice was raised, as the Indians might be dangerously near. The advance was taken up again with the Indian guides creeping stealthily along in front, tracing as best they could the route of their foes. The soldier was even deprived of his beloved pipe, for a spark might, at that moment, lose all which such superhuman efforts had been put forth to gain.

      After what seemed an interminable time, the ashes of a fire lately extinguished were discovered; then farther on a dog barked, and finally the long-looked-for Indian village was discovered by the cry of a baby. General Custer in his accounts stops to say how keen were his regrets, even with the memory fresh in mind of the atrocities committed by Indians, where white infants' brains had been dashed out to stop their crying, that war must be brought to the fireside of even a savage.

      The rest of the night was spent in posting the command on different sides of the village, in snatching a brief sleep, stretched out on the snow, and in longing for daybreak. Excitement kept the ardent soldiers warm, and when the band put their cold lips to the still colder metal, and struck up "Garryowen", the soldiers' hearts were bursting with enthusiasm and joy at the glory that awaited them. At the sound of the bugles blowing on the still morning air—the few spirited notes of the call to "charge"—in went the few hundred men as confidently as if there had been thousands of them, and a reserve corps at the rear.

      All the marching scenes, hunting experiences, the quips and quirks of the camp-fire, the jokes of the officers at each other's expense, the hardships of the winter, the strange and interesting scouts, are as familiar to me as oft-told tales come to be, and in going back and gathering them here and there in the recesses memory, aided by General Custer's letters, magazine accounts, and official reports, the whole scene spreads out before me as the modern diorama unrolls from its cylinder the events that СКАЧАТЬ