United States or Guadeloupe ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
From there I cannot tell you. About four or five o’clock the packtrain came up and the hard fighting was down there. I went back to the packtrain and helped fight a while and then I took to the pine hills away over to the east. When I heard that Custer had been killed I said: “He is a man to fight the enemy. He loved to fight, but if he fights and is killed, he will have to be killed.”
Its profitable nature was the chief reason why the British persistently clung to the posts on the Lakes, and stirred up the Indians to keep the American settlers out of all lands that were tributary to the British fur merchants. From Kentucky and the Cumberland country the peltries were sometimes sent east by packtrain, and sometimes up the Ohio in bateaus or canoes. Boone's Trading Ventures.
I was very tired and did not want to go, but I had to take this dispatch from General Terry, to Reno at the packtrain. Reno gave me a dispatch to take back to Terry, while they were burying the dead soldiers. Then another dispatch was given me to take to the head command at the steamboat. I felt sorry and depressed that I should never again see Custer. The Reno Battlefield
After we were done, we went back to the camp. After the onslaught I did not see any soldiers scalped, but I saw the Indians piling up their clothes, and there was shooting all over the hill, for the Indians were looking for the wounded soldiers and were shooting them dead. Just as I got back to the camp I heard that a packtrain was coming from over the hills.
Cloud-line is passed till the clouds lie underneath in grey lakes and pools. A 'fool hen' or mountain grouse comes out and bobbles her head at the passing packtrain. A whistling marmot pops up from the rocks and pierces the stillness.
Custer when he told me to go said: “You go; I am now going with my boys.” Had Custer not ordered me to go, the people who visit the Custer Field to-day would see my name on the monument. When I got back to the packtrain, I directed them back to where the old trenches are to-day, and where you may still see a pile of bones. The Indians had killed all the mules when I got there.
At one place we were obliged to take the whole packtrain up a cliff fifteen hundred feet high, making a trail as we went. On the top were some water-pockets. We watered the stock at one of these the next morning, when we were obliged fairly to lift the horses out of the gulch by putting our shoulders to their haunches.
I cannot quite remember, but I think it was about noon—we held them until then—when news came from our camp down on the plain that there was a big bunch of soldiers coming up the river—General Terry with his men. As soon as we heard this we let the packtrain go and fled back to our camp. We at once broke camp and fled up the Little Big Horn, or Greasy Creek, as it is called by the Indians.
If it had not been for General Terry coming up as he did we would have had that packtrain, for they were all dry—they had had no water for two days. After we had killed Custer and all his men I did not think very much about it. The soldiers fired into us first and we returned the fire. Sitting-Bull had talked to us and all the tribes to make a brave fight and we made it.
They were banging away at us. We had a heavy skirmish. Custer then came up and said: “You have done your duty. You have led me to the enemy’s camp. And now the thing for you to do is to obey my orders and get away.” Farther on up the river was a packtrain, escorted by three hundred soldiers, and I made my way to the pack-train, and I found the Indians there fighting.
Word Of The Day