Black Elk's full account of the Battle at the Little Bighorn, Seven Clans Judd Brown ·

 

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Black Elk's full account of the Battle at the Little Bighorn, June 25-26, 1876 (long):

Crazy Horse whipped Three Stars on the Rosebud that day, and I think he could have rubbed the soldiers out there. He could have called many more warriors from the villages and he could have rubbed the soldiers out at daybreak, for they camped there in the dark after the fight.

He whipped the cavalry of Three Stars when they attacked his village on the Powder that cold morning in the Moon of the Snowblind [March]. Then he moved farther west to the Rosebud; and when the soldiers came to kill us there, he whipped them and made them go back. Then he moved farther west to the valley of the Greasy Grass. We were in our own country all the time and we only wanted to be let alone. The soldiers came there to kill us, and many got rubbed out. It was our country and we did not want to have trouble.

We camped there in the valley along the south side of the Greasy Grass before the sun was straight above; and this was, I think, two days before the battle. It was a very big village and you could hardly count the tepees. Farthest up the stream toward the south were the Hunkpapas, and the Oglalas were next. Then came the Minneconjous, the San Arcs, the Blackfeet, the Shahiyelas; and last, the farthest toward the north, were the Santees and Yanktonais.

Along the side towards the east was the Greasy Grass, with some timber along it, and it was running full from the melting of the snow in the Bighorn Mountains. If you stood on a hill you could see the mountains off to the south and west. On the other side of the river, there were bluffs and hills beyond. Some gullies came down through the bluffs. On the westward side of us were lower hills, and there we grazed our ponies and guarded them. There were so many they could not be counted.

There was a man by the name of Rattling Hawk who was shot through the hip in the fight on the Rosebud, and people thought he could not get well. But there was a medicine man by the name of Hairy Chin who cured him.

The day before the battle I had greased myself and was going to swim with some boys, when Hairy Chin called me over to Rattling Hawk's tepee, and told me he wanted me to help him. There were five other boys there, and he needed us for bears in the curing ceremony, because he had his power from a dream of the bear. He painted my body yellow, and my face too, and put a black stripe on either side of my nose from the eyes down. Then he tied my hair up to look like bear's ears, and put some eagle feathers on my head.

While he was doing this, I thought of my vision, and suddenly I seemed to be lifted clear off the ground; and while I was that way, I knew more things than I could tell, and I felt sure something terrible was going to happen in a short time. I was frightened.

The other boys were painted all red and had real bear's ears on their heads.

Hairy Chin, who wore a real bear skin with the head on it, began to sing a song that went like this: "At the doorway the sacred herbs are rejoicing."

And while he sang, two girls came in and stood one on either side of the wounded man; one had a cup of water and one some kind of a herb. I tried to see if the cup had all the sky in it, as it was in my vision, but I could not see it. They gave the cup and the herb to Rattling Hawk while Hairy Chin was singing. Then they gave him a red cane, and right away he stood up with it. The girls then started out of the tepee, and the wounded man followed, learning on the sacred red stick; and we boys, who were the little bears, had to jump around him and make growling noises toward the man. And when we did this, you could see something like feathers of all colors coming out of our mouths. Then Hairy Chin came out on all fours, and he looked just like a bear to me. Then Rattling Hawk began to walk better. He was not able to fight next day, but he got well in a little while.

After the ceremony, we boys went swimming to wash the paint off, and when we got back the people were dancing and having kill talks all over the village, remembering brave deeds done in the fight with Three Stars on the Rosebud.

When it was about sundown we boys had to bring the ponies in close, and when this was done it was dark and the people were still dancing around fires all over the village. We boys went around from one dance to another, until we got too sleepy to stay up any more.

My father 'woke me at daybreak and told me to go with him to take our horses out to graze, and when we were out there he said: "We must have a long rope on one of them, so that it will be easy to catch; then we can get the others. If anything happens, you must bring the horses back as fast as you can, and keep your eyes on the camp."

Several of us boys watched our horses together until the sun was straight above and it was getting very hot. Then we thought we would go swimming, and my cousin said he would stay with our horses till we got back. When I was greasing myself, I did not feel well; I felt queer. It seemed that something terrible was going to happen. But I went with the boys anyway. Many people were in the water now and many of the women were out west of the village digging turnips. We had been in the water quite a while when my cousin came down there with the horses to give them a drink, for it was very hot now.

Just then we heard the crier shouting in the Hunkpapa camp, which was not very far from us "The chargers are coming! They are charging! The chargers are coming!" Then the crier of the Oglalas shouted the same words; and we could hear the cry going from camp to camp northward clear to the Santees and Yanktonais.

Everybody was running now to catch the horses. We were lucky to have ours right there just at that time. My older brother had a sorrel, and he rode away fast toward the Hunkpapas. I had a buckskin. My father came running and said: Your brother has gone to the Hunkpapas without his gun. Catch him and give it to him. Then come right back to me." He had my six-shooter too--the one my aunt gave me.

I took the guns, jumped on my pony and caught my brother. I could see a big dust rising just beyond the Hunkpapa camp and all the Hunkpapas were running around and yelling, and many were running wet from the river. Then out of the dust came the soldiers on their big horses. They looked big and strong and tall and they were all shooting. My brother took his gun and yelled for me to go back. There was brushy timber just on the other side of the Hunkpapas, and some warriors were gathering there. He made for that place, and I followed him. By now women and children were running in a crowd downstream. I looked back and saw them all running and scattering up a hillside down yonder.

When we got into the timber, a good many Hunkpapas were there already and the soldiers were shooting above us so that leaves were falling from the trees where the bullets struck. By now I could not see what was happening in the village below. It was all dust and cries and thunder; for the women and children were running there, and the warriors were coming on their ponies.

Among us there in the brush and out in the Hunkpapa camp a cry went up: "Take courage! Don't be a woman! The helpless are out of breath!" I think this was when Gall stopped the Hunkpapas, who had been running away, and turned them back.

I stayed there in the woods a little while and thought of my vision. It made me feel stronger, and it seemed that my people were all thunder-beings and that the soldiers would be rubbed out.

Then another great cry went up out in the dust: "Crazy Horse is coming! Crazy Horse is coming!" Off toward the west and north they were yelling "Hokahey!" like a big wind roaring, and making the tremolo; and you could hear eagle bone whistles screaming.

The valley went darker with dust and smoke, and there were only shadows and a big noise of many cries and hoofs and guns. On the left of where I was I could hear the shod hoofs of the soldiers' horses going back into the brush and there was shooting everywhere. Then the hoofs came out of the brush, and I came out and was in among men and horses weaving in and out and going up-stream, and everybody was yelling, "Hurry! Hurry!" The soldiers were running upstream and we were all mixed there in the twilight and the great noise.

I did not see much; but once I saw a Lakota charge at a soldier who stayed behind and fought and was a very brave man. The Lakota took the soldier's horse by the bridle, but the soldier killed him with a six-shooter. I was small and could not crowd in to where the soldiers were, so I did not kill anybody. There were so many ahead of me, and it was all dark and mixed up.

Soon the soldiers were all crowded into the river, and many Lakotas too; and I was in the water awhile. Men and horses were all mixed up and fighting in the water, and it was like hail falling in the river. Then we were out of the river, and people were stripping dead soldiers and putting the clothes on themselves. There was a soldier on the ground and he was still kicking. A Lakota rode up and said to me: "Boy, get off and scalp him." I got off and started to do it. He had short hair and my knife was not very sharp. He ground his teeth. Then I shot him in the forehead and got his scalp.

Many of our warriors were following the soldiers up a hill on the other side of the river. Everybody else was turning back down stream, and on a hill away down yonder above the Santee camp there was a big dust, and our warriors whirling around in and out of it just like swallows, and many guns were going off.

I thought I would show my mother my scalp, so I rode over toward the hill where there was a crowd of women and children. On the way down there I saw a very pretty young woman among a band of warriors about to go up to the battle on the hill, and she was singing like this:

"Brothers, now your friends have come!

Be brave! Be brave!

Would you see me taken captive?"

When I rode through the Oglala camp I saw Rattling Hawk sitting up in his tepee with a gun in his hands, and he was all alone there singing a song of regret that went like this:

"Brothers, what are you doing that I can not do?"

When I got to the women on the hill they were all singing and making the tremolo to cheer the men fighting across the river in the dust on the hill. My mother gave a big tremolo just for me when she saw my first scalp.

I stayed there awhile with my mother and watched the big dust whirling on the hill across the river, and horses were coming out of it with empty saddles.

After I showed my mother my first scalp, I stayed with the women awhile and they were all singing and making the tremolo. We could not see much of the battle for the big dust, but we knew there would be no soldiers left. There were many other boys about my age and younger up there with their mothers and sisters, and they asked me to go over to the battle with them. So we got on our ponies and started. While we were riding down hill toward the river we saw gray horses with empty saddles stampeding toward the water. We rode over across the Greasy Grass to the mouth of a gulch that led up through the buff to where the fighting was.

Before we got there, the wasicus were all down, and most of them were dead, but some of them were still alive and kicking. Many other little boys had come up by this time, and we rode around shooting arrows into the wasicus. There was one who was squirming around with arrows sticking in him, and I started to take his coat, but a man pushed me away and took the coat for himself. Then I saw something bright hanging on this soldier's belt, and I pulled it out. It was round and bright and yellow and very beautiful and I put it on me for a necklace. At first it ticked inside, and then it did not any more. I wore it around my neck for a long time before I found out what it was and how to make it tick again.

Then the women all came over and we went to the top of the hill. Gray horses were lying dead there, and some of them were on top of dead wasicus and dead wasicus were on top of them. There were not many of our own dead there, because they had been picked up already; but many of our men were killed and wounded. They shot each other in the dust. I did not see Pehin Hanska, and I think nobody knew which one he was. There was a soldier who was raising his arms and groaning. I shot an arrow into his forehead, and his arms and legs quivered.

I saw some Lakotas holding another Lakota up. I went over there, and it was Chase-in-the-Morning's brother, who was called Black Wasicu. He had been shot through the right shoulder downward, and the bullet stopped in his left hip, because he was hanging on the side of his horse when he was hit. They were trying to give him some medicine. He was my cousin, and his father and my father were so angry over this, that they went and butchered a wasicu and cut him open. The wasicu was fat, and his meat looked good to eat, but we did not eat any.

There was a little boy, younger than I was, who asked me to scalp a soldier for him. I did, and he ran to show the scalp to his mother. While we were there, most of the warriors chased the other soldiers back to the hill where they had their pack mules. After awhile I got tired looking around. I could smell nothing but blood, and I got sick of it. So I went back home with some others. I was not sorry at all. I was a happy boy. Those wasicus had come to kill our mothers and fathers and us, and it was our country. When I was in the brush up there by the Hunkpapas, and the first soldiers were shooting, I knew this would happen. I thought that my people were relatives to the thunder beings of my vision, and that the soldiers were very foolish to do this.

Everybody was up all night in the village. Next morning another war party went up to the hill where the other soldiers were, and the men who had been watching there all night came home. My mother and I went along. She rode a mare with a little colt tied beside her and it trotted along with its mother.

We could see the horses and pack mules up there, but the soldiers were dug in. Beneath the hill, right on the west side of the Greasy Grass, were some bullberry bushes, and there was a big boy by the name of Round Fool who was running around the bushes. We boys asked him what he was doing that for, and he said: "There is a wasicu in that bush." And there was. He had hidden there when the other soldiers ran to the hilltop and he had been there all night. We boys began shooting at him with arrows, and it was like chasing a rabbit. He would crawl from one side to the other while we were running around the bush shooting at him with our bows. Once he yelled "Ow." After awhile we set fire to the grass around the bushes, and he came out running. Some of our warriors killed him.

Once we went up the back of the hill, where some of our men were, and looked over. We could not see the wasicus, who were lying in their dug-ins, but we saw the horses and pack mules, and many of them were dead. When we came down and crossed the river again, some soldiers shot at us and hit the water. Mother and I galloped back to the camp, and it was about sundown. By then our scouts had reported that more soldiers were coming up stream; so we all broke camp. Before dark we were ready and we started up the Greasy Grass, heading for Wood Louse Creek in the Bighorn Mountains. We fled all night, following the Greasy Grass. My two younger brothers and I rode in a pony-drag, and my mother put some young pups in with us. They were always trying to crawl out and I was always putting them back in, so I didn't sleep much.

By morning we reached a little dry creek and made camp and had a big feast. The meat had spots of fat in it, and I wish I had some of it right now.

When it was full day, we started again and came to Wood Louse Creek at the foot of the mountains, and camped there. A badly wounded man by the name of Three Bears had fits there, and he would keep saying: "Jeneny, jeneny." I do not know what he meant. He died, and we used to call that place the camp where Jeneny died.

That evening everybody got excited and began shouting: "The soldiers are coming!" I looked, and there they were, riding abreast right toward us. But it was some of our own men dressed in the soldiers' clothes. They were doing this for fun.

The scouts reported that the soldiers had not followed us and that everything was safe now. All over the camp there were big fires and kill dances all night long.

I will sing you some of the kill-songs that our people made up and sang that night. Some of them went like this:

"Long Hair has never returned,

So his woman is crying, crying.

Looking over here, she cries."

"Long Hair, guns I had none.

You brought me many. I thank you!

You make me laugh!"

"Long Hair, horses I had none.

You brought me many. I thank you!

You make me laugh!"

"Long Hair, where he lies nobody knows.

Crying, they seek him.

He lies over here."

"Let go your holy irons [guns].

You are not men enough to do any harm.

Let go your holy irons!"

After awhile I got so tired dancing that I went to sleep on the ground right where I was.

My cousin, Black Wasicu, died that night.

Wounded Knee Massacre by Alice Ghost Horse/ War Bonnett 1939

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Alice Ghost Horse/ War Bonnett

1939

“We were camped at the mouth of Cherry Creek last part of December 1890. I was 13 years old at the time. There was my father (Ghost Horse) and my mother Alice Her Shawl and two younger brothers. The wicasa itacan (male leader) was Spotted Elk (Big Foot).Up the creek was Hump and his followers. Our people were scattered all up and down the creek toward Bridger, South Dakota, a place called now takini (barely surviving). They all lived the farthest away but they were all hohwoju’s just as we were all minneco[n]ju.

Rest of the Lakotas were already assimilated with the whites east end and were already under military rule. They were being trained to be farmers and were given land to plant things. At this time my people were ghost dancing above Plum Creek, straight east of Cherry Creek across the river. We went up there when they have the dances, but children were not allowed in so my brothers and I play near the wagons. The dances usually last four days and quite a few camp up there during that time, we usually go back to Cherry Creek when they get through.

The agent at Fort Bennet (Cheyenne Agency) was a military officer and he would send Lakota scouts to the camp to ask questions about the ghost dance.

The ghost dance was like a sun dance which was held once a year about August. In the ghost dance they form a circle holding hands and they dance stationary not like the sun dance. But they sing and dance. Usually starts at almost sundown and lasts for couple hours. They do this till someone falls or several fall. They wait till they tell what they saw or hear during their trance, the purpose of the dance was to see their dead relatives and converse with them and they continue.

Alice Ghost Horse/ War Bonnett 1939

One day some people came from Standing Rock and told Big Foot that Sitting Bull was shot and killed by Indian police, provoked by agent.

Big Foot decided they should flee to Pine Ridge. They thought that Sitting Bull was killed because of the Ghost dance. On short notice it was decided to move out the very next day so they all staked out their horses close by and they all went to bed.

Next day, we packed up in a hurry that morning and we were ready to move out. I was on my horse and my two brothers rode in the wagon. My mother rode in the back with my youngest brother and the other one rode up front with my father. We had an extra horse tied to the team, this one can be rode or used as one of the team.

We crossed Cherry Creek at the mouth where it empties into the river we were to follow the wagon trails that went west all along the river, on the north side. The old wagon trails lead to takini.

We ran all the way, we stopped halfway to water the horses and cook something to eat. My mother had some pemmican which we all shared before we continue on towards takini.

Late afternoon we pulled into takini amid clusters of lean-tos and tents. Most of the people were getting ready for winter by looking at the wood piles. Some had stocks of wood piled high. After we put up our tents my mother started her cooking. She had good soup and kabubu bread and hot government coffee.

After a hearty meal my mother and father went to a meeting at Big Foot’s tent so my brothers and I went down to the river and played for awhile and then came down and then came to bed.

Early next morning I heard my father hitching up the horses so I got up and saddled up my own horse and was ready to go. I planned to ride all the way to Pine Ridge.

First wagon to leave was Big Foot’s wagon, followed by all his relatives. All the horsebacks and some were walking for a time up the hill. We fell in, about the middle of the wagon train and were headed up a long hill east side of the river.

I looked back and could see more wagons joining in and coming and many children were on horseback, too. It was a sight to see. It was also exciting because we were running from the military.

We ran like this all morning without stopping, sometimes some riders would come back to check on us at the request of Big Foot. By noon, we stopped to rest but we were not allowed to start a fire so we ate what little mother had for us. In a short while we were on our way with Big Foot and his wagon still leading the way. We were trotting all the way, southerly direction, keeping to the low areas, valleys and creek beds.

My younger brother sat in the back with my mother who kept an eye on me. The other brother rode up front as before, the extra horse still tied to the side of the team.

By mid-afternoon the going was tough but we went below Porcupine Butte still keeping in the draws and gullies, sometimes there was no trail so the going was really rough in the wagons.

Sometimes later the head wagons stopped on top of a hill and they were all looking down at something, my father went to see and my mother came over and started to tighten my cinch and said, there were some cavalry camped below on Wounded Knee creek. She told me we might have to make a run for it and she asked me to stay close to the wagon.

My father returned and said Big Foot was very sick and lying in back of the buggy all bundled up. My father said they picked some men to go down and talk to the officers.

I saw four riders riding down towards the center of the camp where they have big guns on wheels. One of the riders had a white flag, a white material tied to a stick riding in front of the other three riders. Soon as they crossed the creek all the soldiers laid down and aim their rifles at them but they kept on going and arrived at the big gun on wheels where there was soldiers and officers standing. They dismounted and had a short talk.

A lone rider galloped up the hill to Big Foots wagon and the officers told them that they wanted to talk to him but his relatives said no that he was very sick and the riders went back to tell them.

Sometime later, a buggy was sent up with a doctor to examine the old man the doctor said he had pneumonia. He gave him some medicine and they loaded him in the special wagon and they took him down.

They talked a long time and finally a lone rider came back and told them to camp along the creek on the west side of the creek.

Everyone pitched their tents as ordered and pretty soon an army wagon was coming along the camp and issued bacon, flour, coffee beans, army beans and hard tack.

By sundown we were completely surrounded by foot soldiers, all with rifles. My mother and I went down to the creek to pick up some wood and go to the bathroom but two soldiers followed us so we hurried back with some sticks.

Everyone went to bed as they were all tired from the hectic trip. Some of the young men stayed up all night to watch the soldiers. Some of the soldiers were drunk saying bad things about the Lakota women. Early next morning, a bugle woke us up. I went outside and noticed all the soldiers were gone but there was a lot of activity at the military camp.

We ate in a hurry because most of the Lakota’s were loading their wagons and my father had the horses and he was saddling up my horse.

At this time a crier was making his way around the Lakota camp telling the men folks to go to the center for more talks so they dropped everything and left but the women continued to pack their belongings in the wagon. I was on my horse just standing there and in a little while there seemed to be an argument at the confrontation which developed into a shouting match. Pretty soon some cavalry men rode in from the center at a fast gallop and they started to search the wagons for axes, knife, guns, bow and arrows and awls. They were really rude about it. They scattered the belongings all over the ground.

The soldiers picked up everything they could find and tied them up in a blanket and took them. They also searched the Lakotas in the center. They emptied the contents on ground in the center in front of the officers and continued to argue with the Lakotas but the Lakotas did not give in.

During the heated discussion a medicine man by the name of Yellow Bird appeared from nowhere and stood facing the east by the fire pit which was now covered up with fresh dirt. He was praying and crying. He was saying to the eagles that he wanted to die instead of his people. He must sense that something was going to happen. He picked up some dirt from the fireplace and threw it in the air and said this is the way he wanted to go back…to dust.

At this time there were cavalry men all on bay horses all lined up on top of the hill on the north side. One officer rode down toward the center at a full gallop. He made a fast halt and shouted something to his commanding officers and retreated back up the hill and they drew their rifles and long knife (swords) and you could hear them load it with bullets.

In the meantime some more cavalry men lined up on the south side. A big gun was also aimed down towards the center where we were… I heard the first shot coming from the center followed by rifles going off all over, occasionally a big boom came from the big guns on wheels. The Lakotas were all disarmed so all they could do was scatter in all directions. The two cavalry groups came charging down, shooting at everyone that was running and is a Lakota.

My father made it back to our wagon and my horse was trying to bolt so he told me to jump so I got off and the horse ran toward the creek for all its worth. We fled to the ravine, where there was lots of plum bushes and dove into the thicket. The gunfire was pretty heavy and people were hollering for their children. With children crying everywhere, my dad said he was going to go out and help the others. My mother objected but he left anyway. Pretty soon, my father came crawling back in and he was wounded below his left knee and he was bleeding. He took my youngest brother who was 6 years old and he said he was taking him further down the river.

Soon he came crawling back in and said, “Hunhun he, micinsi kte pelo.” He had tears in his eyes so we cried a little bit because there was no time think, my father said we should crawl further down but my mother said it is better we die here together and she told me to stand up so I did but my father pulled me down. With a little effort we were able to crawl to a bigger hiding place bullets were whistling all around us but my father went out again to help and he never came back for a long time.

Some people crawled in. They were all wounded. I recognized Phillip Black Moon and his mother. They were okay. More women and children came crawling in. The young ones were whimpering. Groups at intervals came in. Four of the wounded died right there but there was nothing anybody can do.

A man named Breast Plate (Wawoslal Wanapin) came in and told us that my father was killed instantly. We all cried but for a short while lest we would be heard.

Charge in Kill and Nistuste (Back Hips) came in later but they left again.

They were brave it seemed like an eternity but actually it didn’t last that long. It was getting late, towards sundown more people straggled in. It got dark, and the shooting stopped all of a sudden and we heard a wagon moving around, probably to pick up the dead, killed in the crossfire. None of the Lakotas had guns so they had been engaged in hand to hand combat. At a given signal we all got up, those who could, and walked or limped to the north, tiptoeing our way back through creek beds and ravines. Occasionally, we stumbled over dark objects, which turned out to be dead animals or sometimes dead Lakotas. We heard a child crying for water someplace in the dark, cold night. Many more wounded were crying for help.

We walked in the creek beds a ways north. It must have been Wounded Knee Creek, where we separated into four groups, each to take different routes, to better chance of escaping. By morning our group reached a hill, from there we could see long ways. We stopped there, being careful to find whatever cover there was, by trees. We had traveled mostly a northwesterly direction all night, for the sun-up showed the plains and more level landscapes to the east, the higher buttes and pine covered hills to the west. The sky showed polka dotted white puffs with blue background, changing patterns by the wind strong enough to make eyes water. We had two boys to go stay up on the hill to watch for soldiers in all directions. A rider is following our tracks (the boys hollered down), and like cottontails we dove deeper into the ravine among the brushes and trees. But it turned out some moments later that it was a Lakota wearing a woman’s scarf. It was Nistuste (Back Hips) whom we met earlier. After we shook hands with him we all cried. He told us that after the shooting he escaped to Pine Ridge found all the Oglalas had run away toward the hills. He had stayed up on the hills while scouting the Pine Ridge encampment. He then walked back to Wounded Knee where he found his horse, luckily catching it. He then started tracking our trails northward hoping to meet up with somebody. He insisted that our group go with him back toward Pine Ridge.

Before our group could decide which way to go, some more riders appeared. So [we] took off to the creek to hide. But this one man stayed behind and they rode in yelling, “We are Lakotas. Do not run.” They dismounted at the sight of the four Lakota people, we all got up there and shook hands with them, one woman and three men, we all cried. We hadn't eaten anything since we left Wounded Knee a day and a half earlier, they had some pemmican which they shared with us. One of the men said there were cattle foraging over the hill that he was going after one. The other two men who had rode in with him went with him. Soon they brought in a quarter of beef, one lady did the cooking from a pail and dishes she had gotten from a deserted log house not far from there. We really ate for once, thanks to the men and nice lady. Nistute (Back Hips). Then the three men rode back towards Wounded Knee but the women stayed with us. That left us with thirteen people, mostly women and children. I was with my mother and brother, a lady who had her braids cut off she was slightly wounded, a lady that always carried a little one on her back; and there was Alex High Hawk, Blue Hair, and five members of the Many Arrows family. We were all there that night.

Next morning we got ready to leave and found Dog Chasing with two women had come in sometime during the night. The men who rode out must have sent them in, with them upping our numbers to 16. We left bright and early, the men walking ahead a little ways. Very good fortune it was, for I was again riding a horse with my little brother and my mother on foot was leading the horse.

Along the way I must have dozed off and on half asleep and half awake. I didn't know anything for a while. When I became clear headed again, we were heading down a hill. Down at the bottom of the valley stood a long house and even a wooden floor and a fireplace which they fired up and we rested and got warmed up. Some daylight left, we started off again covering some miles before dark. It started to cloud up, clouds rolling in from the west and the north, cloud waves seeming to roll over the hills and valleys like water, from misty fine drops somewhere closer to a drizzle.

It started then, the wind came. Some minutes later it turned into a blizzard but one of the men had steered us toward a cabin which he had spotted from a butte some miles back. This blessed haven we reached along a creek, so we stayed warm sitting out the storm. We had plenty of meat from the last butchering to keep us fed. Later in the night their voices woke me up, loud voices, high pitched women arguments to scatter or stay together, the calmer voices of the male sometime whispering as we listened. I sat up in a hurry when a new meaning came to my senses. I got scared for the first time. My heart was beating faster, my breathing became harder and shorter. Quickly moving closer to my mother and squirming closer to my mothers body was to me natural as a cottontail jumping from danger into its lair. The noise the women thought they heard was maybe a rumbling of horse running or of buffalo stampeding or maybe even of cavalry men.

But it turned out that they may have heard something then imagined their fears into loud noises. For sometimes we just sat there staring at the darkness only the occasional, flickering fire light and dying embers to see by. During the night riders went some place and came back and they said in a low voice, “It is time to go.” No one complained, all acted on instinct to survive. It was still cloudy and dark when we left the cabin. The men loaned us their horses so some of us rode double, sometimes the snow would blow but we kept on moving into a deep draw, where the wind wasn't blowing so much, so we kept to the lowlands.

Finally, we stumbled into a camp of Oglala who ran away from Pine Ridge during the shooting. They were camped in a nice place among the pine trees. At the end of the camp we came across Short Bull's tent. All of the people came to welcome us and the rest of group were all taken into different tents and were all fed good. We stayed at this camp for three months and the sun kept coming out higher and higher. Soon the snow was melting and all knew that it was spring.

One day a rider came into the camp and said there was going to be a meeting [treaty] at Pine Ridge. Next day, early as usual, we headed for Pine Ridge again. It must be quite a ways because we camped in a deep gully. When we started out again the next day, it was a long caravan of bugg[ie]s, travois, horseback and on foot. The chiefs were walking in front, followed by the young warriors on horseback.

Over the last hill we could see many tents and cavalry all over the place, dust was flying, horses were tied to hitching posts face to face.

We made camp near the posts. Can Hahaka (Plenty Limbs) and Iron Thunder came to the camp and said they came after all the hohwojus, Cheyenne River people who were wounded or deceased, that they belonged to our band.

In Pine Ridge my mother reluctantly signed our names as survivors, along with the rest of the family.

They pitched up 3 big tipis in the center where they told us to go. I remember there was Black Moon and his mother and brothers, Iron Horn and Wood Pile was there. There were many hohwojus that showed up at the tipi. Even some we thought had been killed. Ashes was a young girl then and she was there too. I noticed other people were Blue Hair, Ax, Brown Eagle, and Can Hahaka (Plenty Limbs).

We left for hohwoju country Cherry Creek. We were traveling in five wagons, one wagon was loaded with oats and hay, another one of rations, one wagon full of soldiers was leading the way as escorts, out of Pine Ridge in a different direction so we won't have to go through Wounded Knee.

Despite all these nice things being done for us, I can't forget what happened at Wounded Knee. Some nights I cry thinking about it. Many months afterwards. I have never touched a white man during my lifetime. I just can't trust any white man and never will because they killed my father and brother for no reason at all.”

Ghost Horse, born in 1878 and died in 1950, lived out her life after the Wounded Knee Massacre in the community of Cherry Creek on the Cheyenne River Indian Reservation.

https://sddigitalarchives.contentdm.oclc.org/.../5036/rec/14