With Sully into the Sioux Land Part 13

"Has Te-o-kun-ko a white boy prisoner with him?" the General went on.

As soon as the question was interpreted, the Indian shot one swift glance at the faces of the General and those around him, then his eyes half closed again to their former expression of pa.s.sive indifference.

"Nea," he replied.

"He says, 'no,'" interjected the interpreter.

"No?" exclaimed Sully. "You know that he has had such a prisoner, don't you?"

"Tush."

"Well, where is he now?"

"I don't know," the Indian answered.

The General thought a moment. Then he inquired,

"How long has Te-o-kun-ko been in the camp?"

The prisoner made quite a lengthy reply and the interpreter struggled a moment arranging it into English speech.

"He says, 'He has been in camp only a few days. I saw him just before I came out to scout.'"

"Where did he come from?"

"He came from the south."

"But where in the south?"

Again the reply was long and was translated,

"I don't know. I didn't talk with him, but some one told me he came from the south."

"When did you see Te-o-kun-ko last,--that is, previous to his coming into the big camp?" the General inquired.

"I saw him two moons ago on the a.s.souri River, in the country of the Hudson's Bay Company."

"Did he have the white child with him then?"

"Tush."

"But you are sure he has not the white child with him now?"

"No, he has not."

"Well, that will do," said General Sully, rising from his camp-stool.

"We can't get any more out of him. He's probably lying, anyway," he added, turning to Al. "He doesn't want us to think they have any white prisoners. My belief is that your brother is undoubtedly there."

Al tried to believe so too, but the interview, nevertheless, made him feel uneasy and depressed. He had known little about his brother's whereabouts and condition before, but now, if the Indian's statements were true, he knew less than ever. The search seemed to become more vague and hopeless the further he pursued it and he began almost to despair of ever seeing Tommy again. Had it not been for the many duties he had to perform and the increasing interest in events before them as they approached nearer to the hostile army, he would have lost heart altogether. But matters crowding fast upon each other forced him largely to forget himself and his private problems.

The second day out from Fort Rice the column pa.s.sed a deserted Indian camp which had evidently been abandoned only recently, and on succeeding days several similar ones were found. It was clear that they could not be far from the enemy's stronghold; and on July 23, General Sully, owing to the statements made by the Indian whom the boys had captured and other information received from his scouts, left the Cannonball and turned north toward Heart River, which the army reached next day. The scouts went out in every direction and on the twenty-sixth unexpectedly encountered a hostile war party of half a hundred braves, who fled north toward the Knife River.

General Sully, being now convinced that the enemy's camp must be within a comparatively short distance, decided to make a forced march on the trail of the war party, and preparations were quickly begun. The main wagon train, as well as the Montana emigrant train, was securely corralled in a good camping place by the Heart River and a sufficient guard to protect them was detailed to remain behind, under Captain William Tripp, Company B, Dakota Cavalry. Sufficient rations were cooked to last the troops in the field for six days, the General intending to carry all supplies on pack mules taken from the train. Nothing but absolutely necessary food and ammunition was to be carried, all articles such as tents and company mess kits being left behind. But when the boxes containing the pack saddles were opened it was found, to every one's dismay, that the cincha straps of the saddles, by which they were to be secured to the mules' backs, were made of leather, about three inches wide, instead of canvas or webbing six or eight inches wide, as they should have been. When the men tried to tighten up these leather straps, they cut so cruelly into the flesh of the mules that the latter began kicking and bucking frantically and could not be quieted until they had rid themselves of their loads. General Sully, very much disgusted, was obliged to give up the plan of using a pack train, though it would have been much the easiest and quickest way to carry supplies in the rough country. Instead, he impressed into service about thirty-five of the lightest private wagons in the train, belonging to sutlers and to different companies among the troops, which had them for carrying their tents and private belongings. Each of these wagons was loaded with about one thousand pounds of food or small arms ammunition.

Each soldier was supplied with all the cartridges he could carry on his person, and the limber chests of the batteries were filled with artillery ammunition.

Thus equipped, the fighting forces were ready to start at three o'clock in the afternoon. The bugles blew "mount," the soldiers, teamsters, and emigrants who were being left behind cheered and waved their hats, and in a little while the long column had wound out of sight among the hills and ravines, headed north toward the Knife River.

CHAPTER XII

THE BATTLE OF TAHKAHOKUTY

As the troops pressed onward the marching became harder. They were nearing the hill country lying between the Knife and the Little Missouri, full of precipices and deep ravines. That night they camped in the hills, with pickets and camp guards out. Each man slept with his sabre and revolver buckled to his waist and the bridle of his saddled horse in his hand. The next night they camped on the Knife River under similar conditions, after a hard march of twenty-seven miles, and as no fires were allowed, the weary men sorely missed their strong, hot coffee. As soon as he could do so, Al rolled himself in his blanket and stretched out on the ground. It seemed to him that he had but just closed his eyes when he heard the bugles ringing out reveille in the chill darkness. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, hearing a confusion of voices around him, the trampling of horses and jingle of accoutrements.

Then he felt Cottontail's nose push against his cheek and, slowly unbending his stiffened limbs, he rose to his feet.

"Well, old boy," said he, putting his arm around his horse's neck, "I wonder what's in store for us to-day?"

"Plenty, probably," said Lieutenant Dale's voice, close beside him.

"I've an idea we'll strike the redskins to-day."

It was three o'clock, and in the black darkness the lines were formed, not by sight but by hearing. For an hour they stumbled onward through the darkness before the first streaks of dawn began to give the men vague glimpses of their comrades and of other objects around. A little after sunrise a halt was made on a small branch of the Knife River for a quick breakfast of hardtack and coffee, and then the army pushed on again. The hour approached noon and the sun beat down hot on the long columns of hors.e.m.e.n toiling over the hills on each side of the small train of wagons and artillery.

General Sully, with one or two officers, was riding in an ambulance at the head of the train and others were on their horses near by, Al being with them, when they saw a party of several of the Indian scouts come galloping back through the advance guard. They did not slacken pace until they reached the General's ambulance, when their leader, much excited, began gesticulating and talking rapidly in his own tongue.

"Halt the advance guard! Tell Colonel Pollock to halt the First Brigade!

Tell Colonel Thomas to halt his brigade!" cried the General to three different orderlies, who dashed away in as many different directions.

The moving columns became stationary, every eye turning in excited speculation on the General's ambulance, toward which the field officers of the different organizations were galloping from every direction. They found the staff eagerly gathered around the interpreter, who, catching the words from the lips of the chief scout, repeated to the General,

"He says, 'We have found the hostiles. They are just ahead, in great numbers, waiting us. We have seen their camps. They are in big hills a few miles from here. It is a very strong place.'"

"How far are the Indians ahead?" asked the General.

"A mile, maybe two miles. They keep moving."

"Gentlemen," said the General, turning to the field officers around him, "the enemy is found. Return to your commands and prepare for action. I will send you orders for battle formation in a few moments."

The officers went flying back to their regiments, and as they reached them and gave the stirring news to their men, volleys of cheers broke forth and went rolling up and down the long lines. There could be no doubt of the anxiety of the troops to come to blows with the foe they had been so long hunting. The men dismounted and began tightening up saddle cinchas and sabre belts, arranging their ammunition conveniently and giving a last inspection to carbines, sabres, and revolvers, all the while keeping up an energetic buzz of conversation.

In a few moments orderlies and staff officers began to fly along the lines with oral or written orders. Al went galloping over to Colonel Pattee with instructions to dismount his battalion of the Seventh Iowa and deploy it forward into line of battle on the left of the Sixth Iowa, of which six dismounted companies were already deploying on the right wing. Lieutenant Dale carried word to Colonel Rogers to deploy six companies of the Eighth Minnesota forward by the right, thus forming the left wing. Another officer instructed Captain Pope to throw his battery into the interval between the Seventh Iowa and the Eighth Minnesota; while Wallace Smith was intrusted with the order to Major Brackett to close in column upon the right flank, in rear of the Sixth Iowa, to cover the train and to be prepared to charge when ordered. Of the remaining commands, the Second Minnesota was formed on the left flank, in rear of the Eighth Minnesota; the Dakota Cavalry and a company of the Sixth Iowa were placed as supports for Pope's battery; Jones's battery was held in reserve with an escort of four companies of the Sixth Iowa; the wagon train was ma.s.sed and closed up on the artillery reserve; and behind the train was placed a rear guard of two companies of the Eighth and one of the Second Minnesota. Several companies of skirmishers ran out and deployed in front of the main line of battle; and then the General, surveying his dispositions and finding them complete, gave the order to advance.

With flags and guidons flaunting proudly in the breeze, the sunlight dancing on sabre scabbards and carbine barrels, men cheering and horses prancing under the impulse of excitement on all sides of the great martial square, the army rolled forward across the swelling, verdant hills, a huge living engine of destruction moving onward to crush, or to be crushed by, the barbaric host in its front. Al, riding in the centre, behind the General, looked around him with flashing eyes, for never before had he viewed so inspiring and majestic a scene. It was, in fact, by far the largest and best appointed army which ever went into battle against the hordes of the great Sioux Nation, not even excepting the columns that followed Terry and Crook and Gibbon twelve years later when, in 1876, the gallant Custer and five troops of the Seventh United States Cavalry lost their lives in the battle of the Little Big Horn.

More than twenty-two hundred men were in battle formation on that twenty-eighth day of July, 1864. As Wallace Smith exclaimed to Al, riding along beside him,

"By George, Al, isn't this a sight worth seeing and worth remembering, too? I'm glad I'm here."