Winter came back, swooping across the Powder River country without mercy. When the blizzards stopped, an exhausted messenger leading a horse with legs gashed by crusted snow stumbled into the Crazy Horse camp. Soldiers had come north and attacked Two Moons’ Sahiyela camp north of the forks of the Powder River. Crazy Horse immediately sent out scouts, and less than a day out, they found the Sahiyela struggling through the snow. With them were He Dog’s Sicangu Lakota.
The soldiers had appeared suddenly out of a storm. Their mounted attack was well coordinated, coming from several directions at once. The Sahiyela had felt relatively safe because they were not part of the current difficulty involving the Black Hills. But they would never feel safe again.
Most of the fighting men were still asleep when the attack came, and most of them were armed only with bows and arrows. Many women and children managed to escape and hide in the gullies west of the camp. The Sahiyela and the few Lakota fighting men with He Dog retaliated swiftly and managed to slow down the soldiers long enough for their women and children to move out of harm’s way. But the camp was burned and most of the horses were driven off. Food, clothing, and robes were lost. Miraculously, only a few were wounded and two killed.
The Crazy Horse camp received the refugees. Two Moons and He Dog informed Crazy Horse that Indian scouts—perhaps Crow—had led the soldiers. One of them was a man they all knew as Grabber, the son of a black-skinned man. He would know where the favorite locations were for winter camps. And so, it had begun.
Scouts who had stayed behind to follow the soldiers learned they were part of Three Stars’ contingent. Three Stars was General George Crook, who was at Fort Fetterman. Crazy Horse, Two Moons, and He Dog decided to move their people north to join the Sitting Bull encampments. The combined force of fighting men grew to around three hundred. Sitting Bull’s people had traded with the Gros Ventures for rifles and bullets. It was good news at a time when such news was needed. Let them come, was the sentiment among the fighting men. Let the whites come.
Sitting Bull sent out his carefully chosen messengers to announce that the people should gather near the Chalk Buttes in late spring, entreating them to speak wisely and clearly to the leaders among the Lakota as well as the Dakota and Nakota. He wanted his messengers to appeal to their sense of pride, especially to those who were surely disenchanted with life on the agencies.
Two Moons decided to keep his people with Crazy Horse’s camp. He Dog decided it was better to die a free and “wild” Lakota. He advised Crazy Horse to send a message aimed at the young unmarried Lakota men languishing on the agencies. Unattached as they were, they could leave anytime, and their response to Crazy Horse’s call could influence the agency Lakota to heed Sitting Bull’s message. It made good sense.
Early in the Moon When Horses Lose Their Hair, Sitting Bull moved his people north to the Chalk Buttes. Shortly thereafter, the first arrivals from the agencies began trickling in. By the beginning of the Moon of Ripening Berries, the encampment was estimated at three thousand people, including approximately four hundred fighting men.
Warm weather seemed to improve Black Shawl’s health and state of mind. As Crazy Horse’s people prepared to break camp and move north, she sat with her husband on a hillside. The - people, with no objection from Sitting Bull, thought he should be the overall leader of the Lakota. Few men in the past had ever held such a position—no one in recent memory, in fact.
Black Shawl knew it was a responsibility he already had. Not many men could walk through the circle of lodges and make - people feel better simply because he passed by.
They both knew that difficult times lay ahead. The future was uncertain, and to help ensure the survival of the true Lakota way of life, the evil that had been nipping at their heels and flanks had to be driven back, if not destroyed. That evil was the Long Knives. A large part of the answer to that problem was for all the Lakota to think alike and combine their efforts. And Crazy Horse, Black Shawl knew, could bring people together.
More and more people arrived almost every day. The horse herd was growing and eating down the sparse grass around the buttes. Some young men said perhaps there were as many as seven thousand head. Sitting Bull was already at work, inviting the older leaders to his own lodge or to the roomier council lodge. He was an impressive and charismatic man. A slight limp from a gunshot wound to his hip during his days as a young fighting man served only to give him more credibility. He had earned nearly seventy battle honors, more than any man at the gathering except Crazy Horse. Now past the age of fifty, he had a solid reputation as a wise leader and counselor, enhanced by his status as a medicine man. He was immensely pleased at the response to his message and announced he would conduct a Sun Dance. Spiritually, as well as psychologically, it was the right thing at the time. It could only serve to unify the people and add to the feeling of strength and pride that seemed to be growing as quickly as the horse herd. It was that kind of insight that made him an influential leader.
The encampment moved west across the Powder and the Tongue into the valley of the Rosebud, and across it as well, turning at the northern slopes of the Wolf Mountains into the broken country near the Greasy Grass River. The long procession moved in the old way, with the holy men leading the way carrying the embers from the council fire, while the warrior groups rode on each flank and brought up the rear. Each day, the lodges were pitched before sundown and were ready to travel at dawn. They finally came to Ash Creek and followed it west. There the old men selected a place.
While Sitting Bull was hard at work for the hearts and minds of the people, Crazy Horse sent scouts in all directions. The feeling among the military leaders was that the biggest threat lay to the south, from Three Stars’ army. Nonetheless, scouts went as far as a day’s ride in every direction, a distant first line of defense. To the north were the Crow, but they were not stupid enough to attack such a large encampment defended by several hundred fighting men. Given the “great father’s” order, Crazy Horse kept his eyes and ears—in the person of his scouts—concentrated - toward the south.
Preparations were completed for the Sun Dance. Sitting Bull - didn’t lack for participants, stalwart young men offering their sacrifice of pain and flesh on behalf of the people. To set the tone, Sitting Bull himself offered one hundred bits of flesh, fifty from each arm—a real and symbolic sacrifice not lost on the - people.
The effect of the Sun Dance, the most holy of Lakota ceremonies, was to rekindle a sense of unity and remind the agency Lakota that the true path of the Lakota way was still very much alive and viable. Sitting Bull fell into a trance, and after he awoke he described dead, wounded, and bleeding soldiers, and their horses falling headfirst from the sky into a Lakota encampment. Soldiers falling into camp became the watchwords for victory.
The growing encampment buzzed for days with speculation on the meaning of Sitting Bull’s vision. Interpretations varied but the unmistakable message was definitely victory over the Long Knives. When scouts returned to camp one evening with word of a large column of soldiers heading north, the news was not unexpected and it was received as a precursor to the eventual validation of Sitting Bull’s vision. Most of all, there was no sense of panic.
The scouts were taken immediately to Crazy Horse. By late afternoon, he took their report to the council lodge. Three Stars was bringing an army north, probably in keeping with the “great father’s” order. The column was likely in the area of Goose Creek in the foothills of the Shining Mountains by now, Crazy Horse deduced. Riding with the Long Knives were Crow and Snakes, old enemies to the Lakota—over two hundred according to the scouts’ estimates. Three Stars’ army was three to four days away. Of course they couldn’t know of the gathering on Ash Creek and must not be allowed to come close.
Crazy Horse told the old men he would lead the young men against the soldiers, any and all who wanted to follow. Runners carried the call to every lodge in the encampment.
Crazy Horse hurried to his own lodge as the entire encampment was alive with anticipation. Black Shawl had already heard and was preparing food and had filled his water flasks. He would ride the paint mare and lead the bay gelding; they both had stamina to spare and were hardened combat veterans themselves. Like all Lakota fighting men, he was in a constant state of readiness, his weapons always in easy reach and in good working order. So there was little other preparation to complete.
The moment came, as it frequently had for them, to face the parting. Crazy Horse tied his weapons and gear to the paint, then embraced his wife, covering them both beneath his elk robe. They said little. Whatever they felt came through in the strength of their embrace and the reluctance to let go. He took one of his lances and jammed it point first into the earth. Then he swung onto the mare and rode away.
The sun was near the jagged western horizon as she watched him head to the east opening of the great circle of lodges, riding the paint and leading the bay. There he turned right and began to circle the large encampment. Men hurried to join him as he continued around the outer edge of the camp. By the time he reached the opening again, a file of riders were strung out behind him.
As he finished the second turn around the encampment and began the third, the old ones watching realized what Crazy Horse was doing. He was invoking an old ritual known as “Gathering the Warriors.” It had last been done eleven years past when the Sahiyela and Blue Clouds came north after the massacre at Sand Creek. Word spread quickly as more and more men joined the growing procession. It seemed as though - everyone in camp stopped whatever they were doing to watch. Women began to sing the Strong Heart songs to encourage their fighting men.
As the fourth and final turn around the encampment began, it was difficult to see where the procession of fighting men started and where it ended. It encircled the entire camp. Sitting Bull’s vision had brought a sense of confidence, and the sight of close to six hundred fighting men emphasized it. Drums pounded throughout the camp like the heartbeat of the land itself. Grandparents took their grandchildren by the hand to make sure they saw the awe-inspiring sight.
As he finished the fourth turn, Crazy Horse pointed his horses south and the great procession followed, feathers and banners streaming, the very image of strength and invincibility. Sunset’s long shadows had stretched across the land by then, and when Crazy Horse reached the western slopes of the Wolf Mountains, dusk had already settled.
Foremost in the minds of the fighting men was the attack on Two Moons’ and He Dog’s camp. That was a singular and specific motivation for the action they had embarked on, but also present was the awareness that an invasion into their lands and lives had been going on for longer than most of them had lived. For most of them, therefore, following Crazy Horse to fight the soldiers was necessary to repel that invasion. Many had yet to fire a shot in anger at the Long Knives. Righteous anger and a strong sense of resolve rode with them as they moved south into the deepening dusk and approaching night. Amid the occasional snort and the soft thud of hooves on dry ground, the younger men pretended to check their weapons or neck ropes as they tried to ignore their apprehension and thoughts of death.
Crazy Horse called on the men he knew who had detailed knowledge of the area to lead them over the Wolf Mountains. The terrain was rough, rocky, and covered with sagebrush. Two factors had prompted Crazy Horse to take the fight to Three Stars: First, his advance scouts probably stayed relatively close to the main body, perhaps no further than half a day’s ride. Therefore, the likelihood of encountering any of Three Stars’ scouts or soldiers was highly unlikely. And, if by chance that happened, it - wouldn’t be difficult to overwhelm them. Second, nights were short this time of year. To take advantage of the cover of darkness meant leaving the Ash Creek encampment no later than sundown. The advantage, of course, was that an enemy couldn’t see the rising dust from an approaching force at night.
The trail guides were more than equal to the challenge. Except for three stops to rest the horses, six hundred men and a thousand horses moved quickly and without incident. As the dawn’s light grew, Crazy Horse called a halt and sent scouts ahead. They were in the Rosebud Creek drainage and he wanted to scout the next drainages over on each side.
Final preparations were made and weapons were checked. Some men painted their faces for battle and prayed, or performed whatever ritual that seemed to help keep nervousness in check. Horse holders, older boys who had been brought along to stay in the rear and watch the spare mounts, were given final instructions.
Crazy Horse moved off by himself. He tied his medicine stone behind his left ear and draped the calf-hide cape over his shoulder. He left the mare with one of the boys and led the bay aside, tossing gopher dust over his back. Then he settled behind the ridge of a gully to check his weapons and wait.
The scouts returned after sunrise. Three Stars’ army was below them, encamped on either side of Rosebud Creek, most of them still asleep. Crazy Horse was about to issue instructions for the men to lead their horses quietly down the slope when gunfire cracked from the valley below. He was later to learn that one of Three Stars’ Crow scouts opened fire. The battle was joined.
The Rosebud Fight, as the battle came to be known, was the toughest combat Crazy Horse had seen. The Battle of the Hundred in the Hand ten years earlier had had its own set of circumstances that made it tough. But at the Rosebud, the Lakota faced a larger and more heavily armed enemy force. Three Stars’ soldiers were both infantry and cavalry, forcing the Lakota to adjust to different tactics as the fighting progressed. Attack was met with counterattack as the day wore on. The valley of the Rosebud thundered with gunfire and dust hung in the air. Late in the afternoon it was evident that the soldiers were disorganized, fighting in scattered units, their effectiveness significantly reduced. Crazy Horse was notified that, even though nearly a hundred Hunkpapa had arrived at midmorning, the Lakota and Sahiyela were critically low on ammunition. Sensing that Three Stars wouldn’t be able to mount any pursuit, Crazy Horse sent word to withdraw.