off. The chief, realizing that the chance of avoiding a fight had gone, turned to walk away. At that moment, one of the troopers fired, hitting a warrior in the chest and killing him.
The Miniconjou appeared at the door to High Forehead’s lodge. Grattan ordered his two big guns fired, and the shells went high, nipping the tips of some lodge poles, but doing no other damage. The Miniconjous opened fire then, and Grattan gave the order to fire. In an instant, a flurry of arrows poured out of the village. Grattan and four other soldiers, three of them artillerymen, were hit. At almost the same moment, the Brule hidden at the base of the bluff thundered down on the village.
Young Man Afraid looked on in horror, yelling for the Oglalas to intercede, to help the soldiers before it was too late.
But there was nothing to be done. The fury ofthe Brule had been unleashed. The soldiers turned and ran, but the warriors pursued them on horseback and on foot. The soldiers’ single shot rifles were too cumbersome, and almost useless against the speed and deadly accuracy of the Sioux bowmen. Volley after volley of arrows poured into the fleeing troops. One by one they fell.
And then it was over. The village fell strangely silent. Grattan and all thirty-one of his men lay dead. In a frenzy, the Sioux swarmed over the two gun carriages, set them on fire, and destroyed the howitzers.
Conquering Bear had been badly wounded, shot in the back, the leg, and the side. He lay bleeding in the dust for several minutes before the warriors gathered him up and helped him to his tent.
Back at the Oglala village, the warriors, Young Man Afraid and Old Man Afraid at their head, stood silently and watched. Curly and Hump and Little Hawk had gotten their first look at a conflict that would shape the rest of their lives.
Chapter 6
September 1854
A FTER THE FIGHT with Grattan’s men, the Sioux seemed disorganized. Some wanted to ride on the fort and kill the rest of the soldiers, burn Fort Laramie to the ground, and take control of the Plains. Others, frightened that the whites would just send more and more soldiers, until there were too many for the Sioux to fight, wanted to stay where they were. They thought that the Great Father would understand that what had happened was not their fault.
The vast majority, though, just wanted to get away from Fort Laramie. They wanted their lives to continue as they had always been. If hanging around the Fort meant dependence on the white man’s goods, then they would leave. They had fed themselves long before anyone had seen a white man. They had more than held their own against the Pawnee and pushed the Crow far enough west that they had all the breathing room they could want. There was the beauty of the Paha Sapa and the wide open expanse of the plains where they could spend the rest of their lives without ever seeing another white man.
Old Man Afraid, though, knew that something had changed forever. In the first major armed conflict with the whites, the Sioux had won a victory, but it was hollow and, the chief suspected, likely to be shortlived.
The Oglala moved on, and the Brule, too. Curly and his family rode east with the Brule, his mother’s people. On the long trek, Conquering Bear continued to suffer from his wounds. Unable to ride, he was borne on a travois. Often, Curly and Hump would ride along behind the gravely wounded chief. Sometimes, at night, they would peek into the chief’s lodge. He would be lying there, more often than not asleep, wrapped in a buffalo robe. He was losing weight, wasting away from his wounds. No one wanted to say it aloud, but it was obvious that Conquering Bear was dying.
Confused by the events, upset over Conquering Bear’s condition, Curly rode out onto the prairie by himself. He was determined to seek a vision, but he was not playing by the rules. The vision quest was the central event of a Sioux warrior’s life. It was what gave him his adult name, and its
The Miniconjou appeared at the door to High Forehead’s lodge. Grattan ordered his two big guns fired, and the shells went high, nipping the tips of some lodge poles, but doing no other damage. The Miniconjous opened fire then, and Grattan gave the order to fire. In an instant, a flurry of arrows poured out of the village. Grattan and four other soldiers, three of them artillerymen, were hit. At almost the same moment, the Brule hidden at the base of the bluff thundered down on the village.
Young Man Afraid looked on in horror, yelling for the Oglalas to intercede, to help the soldiers before it was too late.
But there was nothing to be done. The fury ofthe Brule had been unleashed. The soldiers turned and ran, but the warriors pursued them on horseback and on foot. The soldiers’ single shot rifles were too cumbersome, and almost useless against the speed and deadly accuracy of the Sioux bowmen. Volley after volley of arrows poured into the fleeing troops. One by one they fell.
And then it was over. The village fell strangely silent. Grattan and all thirty-one of his men lay dead. In a frenzy, the Sioux swarmed over the two gun carriages, set them on fire, and destroyed the howitzers.
Conquering Bear had been badly wounded, shot in the back, the leg, and the side. He lay bleeding in the dust for several minutes before the warriors gathered him up and helped him to his tent.
Back at the Oglala village, the warriors, Young Man Afraid and Old Man Afraid at their head, stood silently and watched. Curly and Hump and Little Hawk had gotten their first look at a conflict that would shape the rest of their lives.
Chapter 6
September 1854
A FTER THE FIGHT with Grattan’s men, the Sioux seemed disorganized. Some wanted to ride on the fort and kill the rest of the soldiers, burn Fort Laramie to the ground, and take control of the Plains. Others, frightened that the whites would just send more and more soldiers, until there were too many for the Sioux to fight, wanted to stay where they were. They thought that the Great Father would understand that what had happened was not their fault.
The vast majority, though, just wanted to get away from Fort Laramie. They wanted their lives to continue as they had always been. If hanging around the Fort meant dependence on the white man’s goods, then they would leave. They had fed themselves long before anyone had seen a white man. They had more than held their own against the Pawnee and pushed the Crow far enough west that they had all the breathing room they could want. There was the beauty of the Paha Sapa and the wide open expanse of the plains where they could spend the rest of their lives without ever seeing another white man.
Old Man Afraid, though, knew that something had changed forever. In the first major armed conflict with the whites, the Sioux had won a victory, but it was hollow and, the chief suspected, likely to be shortlived.
The Oglala moved on, and the Brule, too. Curly and his family rode east with the Brule, his mother’s people. On the long trek, Conquering Bear continued to suffer from his wounds. Unable to ride, he was borne on a travois. Often, Curly and Hump would ride along behind the gravely wounded chief. Sometimes, at night, they would peek into the chief’s lodge. He would be lying there, more often than not asleep, wrapped in a buffalo robe. He was losing weight, wasting away from his wounds. No one wanted to say it aloud, but it was obvious that Conquering Bear was dying.
Confused by the events, upset over Conquering Bear’s condition, Curly rode out onto the prairie by himself. He was determined to seek a vision, but he was not playing by the rules. The vision quest was the central event of a Sioux warrior’s life. It was what gave him his adult name, and its
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