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Great Writing - Home > Extended > The Red Devils - Chapter 35
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Extended Work
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| The Red Devils - Chapter 35 | |
| By jean.day | ||||||||||||
| 21 March 2008 | ||||||||||||
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I like his description of the Bad Lands of North Dakota - where we spent part of our honeymoon - and have used a picture of them for the front cover of my book. Dispatch from Kellogg In the field near Rosebud Buttes, DT. May 29, 1876, I wrote you from the Big Muddy in the 20th ult. We have been marking steadily since slowly making our way to the HOME OF THE HOSTILES. We’re now within three days march of the Yellowstone, about 160 miles from Bismarck. The BADLANDS of the Little Missouri have been passed and the grazing lands beyond reached. NO INDIANS have been seen since my last report through Gen. Custer and a few scouts when out hunting one morning came suddenly upon a blazing campfire which had been abandoned but a few minutes before. The General does not get frightened but in this case he deemed discretion the better part of valor and got not “near the hearts of the people” as the politicians would say, but near to the sabers of the gallant 7th. Aside from this no fresh traces of them have been seen, and no trouble is anticipated with them until the buffalo range, west of the Yellowstone is reached. Opinion as to whether we will meet them in force is varied. GENERAL TERRY keeps a close tongue and his opinions seldom become public property. He holds his command in hand, however, as if he expected attack, and is ever prepared for it. Gen. Terry, through his watchfulness and care of his offices and men, through his kind words and acts has become endeared to all in the command, and the men will stand by him to a man as they ever have by the more DASHING CUSTER who as the men say may be seen HELL WHOOPING over the prairie at almost anytime of the day. Free from the responsibility of command, all of his energies may be employed in the work assigned him, ever in the saddle, only when eating, sleeping or writing, he is generally on the flank, or far in advance of the column with a few trusty scouts, making observations of the county, on the alert for signs of Indians, with which he is as familiar as a white man can be, and occasionally hunting for pastime. Gen. Terry always leads the advance of the column; Custer is with him when not on the “scoot” as the boys have come to call it. So far no ACCIDENTS to speak of have occurred. Two mules have been killed by order of being no further use to the command. A private in Company I, 7th Cavalry was BITTEN BY A RATTLESNAKE, but immediate remedies were applied and the man is getting on nicely. Aside from the usual surgical operations, cutting and sucking the wound, etc., the Doctors Williams and Porter administered 26 OUNCES OF WHISKEY. 24 had been guzzled without effect on the man or the poison which the whiskey was intended to counteract. But the last 2 oz weakened both. The man lay in a drunken stupor for several hours but the snake poison was killed and as stated, the man is slowly recovering. During the time the remedy was being administered many amusing remarks were passed among the lookers on. Some of them would like a bite themselves; others wished for a preventative which all expressed admiration for the curative powers of whiskey straight. At this writing only three men are in the ambulance, one from an accidental shot to the heel. The officers are ALL WELL. Game was found in abundance until the little Missouri was reached. On the 21st The Indians scouts brought in seven antelope besides many others which were killed by hunting parties. One day CHAS REYNOLD, chief scout of the expedition killed three and fourteen in all were brought in. A few elk have been seen and Gen. Custer killed one lynx. Antelope were in sight most of the time until the Little Missouri was reached. The country for the first few days of our march resembled very much that about Fort Lincoln with which your readers are generally familiar. Hills, valleys, and streams and good soil with liberal amounts of wood and water, generally suited for farming purposes are the principle characteristics. The grazing is first-class and the country is a most excellent one for stock growing. This is shown by the abundance of game which now abounds and the traces of columns of buffalo which in former times roamed over these prairies. The bee, the buffalo and the Indian are ever crowded ahead as civilization advances and with the expedition for the survey of the Northern Pacific near the line of which our course has run, the buffalo have gone. The Indian must soon follow. The chiefs want the country and the Great Spirit has decreed that the red man must pass on. The Indians have a secret of Geography of their own which is familiar to the leading ones. All of the ANCIENT LANDMARKS or rather those which have become distinguished are carefully noted and ever after remembered. The names are generally exceedingly appropriate. For instance in this region we have Rattlesnake Den, Wolf Den, Maiden’s Breasts, Rosebud Buttes, Young Man’s Buttes and LOST WATER BUTTE. From the side of the latter bursts a stream of water of probably sixty inches which after running on the surface for about one hundred yards disappears in the earth. Hence its name. Near this Butte, some years ago, a small body of Arickarees had a fight with a considerable number of Sioux. Three of the former and five of the later were killed. The balance of the Rees escaped during the night. It does the soul of BLOODY KNIFE, one of the scouts of the expedition, good to tell of the bloody battles which have been fought on the ground west and south of Berthold. The Rees some years ago were the proudest and bravest as they were the strongest in numbers of any of the Indian tribes. They claimed to be the first people. The Grosventures or Big Bellies were a race which followed them, and the Mandans were so limited in numbers that they only occupied the bluffs but these PRIMITIVE CAMPS tilled and occupied the land. All was well with them until the white man crowded the Sioux on them from far off Minnesota and introduced among them small-pox and other terrible diseases, which have reduced them in numbers until a few families only are left of this one mighty people. Ever friendly to the whites they have been ever on the WAR PATH with the Sioux until the tragedy of 1875 made with the Sioux of Fort Lincoln when they agree to bury the hatchet and smoke the PIPE OF PEACE. The Indian, however, is not noted for his steadfastness of his strict adherence to treaty obligation, hence a few Sioux scalps have dangled from the belts of the Rees warriors even since the famous treaty. The Indian scouts have great respect for the LONG HAIRED CHIEF as they call Gen. Custer, though he long since abandoned those golden ringlets and now wears a FIGHTING CUT as all good soldiers should, and he has no difficulty obtaining information from them. They admire his dashing way and respect him as a man and respect his position, hence any information they are able to impart is carried directly to him. Indeed the General is so familiar with that he can talk with them by signs almost as readily and understandingly as the interpreter, while he has picked up quite a smattering of Indian. Near Young Man’s Butte stands a lonely grave found with the head board bearing the name rank etc. “Sergt. Stumper, Co.L,. 7th Cavalry, August 26, 1873, “So you will observe the gallant 7th has been this way before. This brave fellow died here surrounded only by his brave comrades, hundreds, perhaps thousands of miles from mother or sister, or the home of his childhood. Life is beset with hidden footfalls. When we least expect it death approaches. The sensitive mind always becomes sad when in the presence of death but to meet with the dead on the western prairies has a peculiar effect. The churchyard where sleep friends and relatives may be passed without serious thought. But here death with his grin visage stares at us from unexpected places forcing an entire change in the channel of our thoughts. Shall we leave beneath the sod of an almost limitless prairie the forms of any of those now with us, who are so full of life and hope? We shall see. I said we met fresh traces of Indians once only. Today we saw too evidently HOSTILE Indians gazing from the distance at the expedition. Evidently they are seeking information. They disappeared and were seen no more. The INDIAN RUNNER is an institution of the plains. The manner in which they get over the ground is simply wonderful. These Indians were probably sent by the hostile chief to learn as to the progress the expedition was making, and to gain information as to its character. Satisfying themselves they will return at the rate of one hundred miles per day, without food or water, or sleep, and without excessive fatigue. Indian and pony with fly over the prairies like the wind, with occasional rests of a few minutes to give the pony a chance to graze while the rider nods, the runners will rush along for three days, making as many hundred miles. To us the Indian are constantly informed of the MOVEMENT OF THE TROOPS and if they purpose giving battles they will certainly be prepared to do it. As we move westward the GRAZING IMPROVES. And here in the Little Missouri valley the season is at least a month in advance of the season on the Missouri. This would be a splendid grazing region were the water good. The grass is heavy and nutritious, but the water is too strongly impregnated with alkali. MILLIONS OF LOCUSTS are just now making their appearance in this region. Too young to fly or do much harm, in few days, should the winds favor them, they may sweep down upon the defenseless agriculturist on the border doing untold damage. Fortunately the season is, and has been, a wet one, and the growth of these pests has been held in check while the rank growth of vegetation has satisfied them on the ground where they were produced. PROMISCUOUS FIRING at game has long since stopped and occasionally the boys fret at not being permitted to take advantage of some splendid shot. Discipline, however, is necessary, and none realize this more fully that the privates in the commands. The dreaded bad land or MAURVAIS DE TERRE were struck on the 27th. We camped that night at their entrance on the head of Davis Creek. Grass high and luxuriant, wood in abundance, water very slightly alkaline. Our camp for the night was a spectacular as well as a picturesque one; occupying the head of a narrow valley from east to west, and occupying a length of half a mile, surrounded by every conceivable shaped butte. With pickets stationed on the towering peaks, the Indian scouts, standing out in bold relief against the sky, straight and unmovable as statues of stone, to our vision; the long rows of tents and white wagons creating a scene so vividly beautiful as to impress the beholder during life. The Column has hardened to the work, and endures the working finely. Little or no illness, the men were in good spirits and the animals in good heart. Sweet strains of music broke out on the still air from the 7th Cavalry band which morn and eve affords us a rich treat. Before us lay the wonderful Bad Lands of Dakota, which Sully said looked like hell with the fires out. Here they are not wide in extent - about 5 miles - but they grow in width until near the mouth of the stream they average many miles - at Buford fifty miles. It is a COMMON ERROR to presume that all of Dakota is one vast plain - or field of bad lands, when in fact, there is not a foot of bad lands east of the Missouri in that Territory and none west, except along the valleys of certain streams. They produce no vegetation and are as well defined in the beginning and ending as a plowed land on the prairie. I mounted one of the highest cone shaped Buttes and from its peak looked over a sea, as it were, of ridges of broken topped, square topped, cone-topped buttes, the cone shape predominating the majority of which are reddened to a bright red brick color, from the action of great heat at some time in the unwritten and probably unknown period of the past. The whole rock formation is modulated and fused as if it had been in the intense heat of a furnace for years. Our march on the 29th was up through the valley of Davis Creek, crossing it six times, each crossing requiring a bridge. Our camp that evening was a very attractive one, situated on a level basin on which is growing the gramma grasses in profusion. On the west the waters of the Little Missouri are flowing swiftly along, and on its banks stand a growth of large timber, mostly cottonwood. Underneath is a heavy under growth; principally of bilberry, plum, white cherry, currant etc. all of which are in full bloom, making the air redolent with fragrance. The water of the Little Missouri is unexpectedly low and clear. It was with feelings of regret that I left the valley of Davis Creek and the Badland behind, and I discovered that many are of the same mind. The beautiful scenery, grim, rough , and broken though it is, has more attractions, creates fewer emotions, entrances the senses, awe inspires, and bewilders the beholder who observes to the full more than pen can picture or artist can paint. This natural highway created by the Great Architect is one of those delightful spots which are found here and there all over the great west. The only lack for the most perfect stock raising pastures is that of water, which at the western end of the valley, it is strongly impregnated with alkali, as to be entirely unfit for use. The grasses are extremely insuriant in growth and the valley is locked in by ranged of buttes that secures perfect security from the bitter winter winds of the raw plains of either side. The citizens of Bismarck with the expedition are in robust health. Their stock keep up well and appear to be improving. No accident of any note has occurred to any of their outfits and their loads are becoming lighter daily. Gen. Custer, with a battalion of cavalry (and 12 scouts with Lieut. Vernon at their head) was ordered due south up the Little Missouri River this morning, and accordingly Gen. Custer with his outfit left camp at 5 a.m. today , and returned a few minutes ago. He reports having ridden 45 miles today, crossing the Little Missouri 34 times, passed Rosebud Butte at a distance of 3 miles from camp. The valley of the river averages a mile in width, level and plenty of grass. Saw no signs of Indians, other than those of camps of a year ago. Saw no game, and there is no substance for Indians. Gen. Custer states himself and party had a pleasant ride, moving along rapidly, and halting only sufficient long enough to breath their horses. Each company carried their own rations and Waggoner, with 5 mules packed accompanied the reconnaissance. We will move over the Little Missouri tomorrow and camp near the stream on the opposite side. The camp today has been quiet. Firing for promiscuous purposes is forbidden, and fishing has been the chief amusement of the day. As I write a big thunder shower is approaching from the west which looks ugly. FRONTIER
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