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Chief American Horse
Warriors Citation
One of the wittiest and shrewdest of the Sioux chiefs was American Horse, who succeeded to the name and position of an uncle,
killed in the battle of Slim Buttes in 1876. The younger American Horse was born a little before the encroachments of the
whites upon the Sioux country became serious and their methods aggressive, and his early manhood brought him into that most
trying and critical period of our history. He had been tutored by his uncle, since his own father was killed in battle while
he was still very young. The American Horse band was closely attached to a trading post, and its members in consequence were
inclined to be friendly with the whites, a policy closely adhered to by their leader. When he was born, his old grandfather
said: "Put him out in the sun! Let him ask his great-grandfather, the Sun, for the warm blood of a warrior!" And he had warm
blood. He was a genial man, liking notoriety and excitement. He always seized an opportunity to leap into the center of the
arena. In early life he was a clownish sort of boy among the boys -- an expert mimic and impersonator. This talent made him
popular and in his way a leader. He was a natural actor, and early showed marked ability as a speaker. American Horse was
about ten years old when he was attacked by three Crow warriors, while driving a herd of ponies to water. Here he displayed
native cunning and initiative. It seemed he had scarcely a chance to escape, for the enemy was near. He yelled frantically
at the ponies to start them toward home, while he dropped off into a thicket of willows and hid there. A part of the herd
was caught in sight of the camp and there was a counter chase, but the Crows got away with the ponies. Of course his mother
was frantic, believing her boy had been killed or captured; but after the excitement was over, he appeared in camp unhurt.
When questioned about his escape, he remarked: "I knew they would not take the time to hunt for small game when there was
so much bigger close by." When he was quite a big boy, he joined in a buffalo hunt, and on the way back with the rest of the
hunters his mule became unmanageable. American Horse had insisted on riding him in addition to a heavy load of meat and skins,
and the animal evidently resented this, for he suddenly began to run and kick, scattering fresh meat along the road, to the
merriment of the crowd. But the boy turned actor, and made it appear that it was at his wish the mule had given this diverting
performance. He clung to the back of his plunging and braying mount like a circus rider, singing a Brave Heart song, and finally
brought up amid the laughter and cheers of his companions. Far from admitting defeat, he boasted of his horsemanship and declared
that his "brother" the donkey would put any enemy to flight, and that they should be called upon to lead a charge. It was
several years later that he went to sleep early one night and slept soundly, having been scouting for two nights previous.
It happened that there was a raid by the Crows, and when he awoke in the midst of the yelling and confusion, he sprang up
and attempted to join in the fighting. Everybody knew his voice in all the din, so when he fired his gun and announced a coup,
as was the custom, others rushed to the spot, to find that he had shot a hobbled pony belonging to their own camp. The laugh
was on him, and he never recovered from his chagrin at this mistake. In fact, although he was undoubtedly fearless and tried
hard to distinguish himself in warfare, he did not succeed. It is told of him that he once went with a war party of young
men to the Wind River country against the Shoshones. At last they discovered a large camp, but there were only a dozen or
so of the Sioux, therefore they hid themselves and watched for their opportunity to attack an isolated party of hunters. While
waiting thus, they ran short of food. One day a small party of Shoshones was seen near at hand, and in the midst of the excitement
and preparations for the attack, young American Horse caught sight of a fat black-tail deer close by. Unable to resist the
temptation, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and sent it through the deer's heart, then with several of his half-starved
companions sprang upon the yet quivering body of the animal to cut out the liver, which was sometimes eaten raw. One of the
men was knocked down, it is said, by the last kick of the dying buck, but having swallowed a few mouthfuls the warriors rushed
upon and routed their enemies. It is still told of American Horse how he killed game and feasted between the ambush and the
attack. At another time he was drying his sacred war bonnet and other gear over a small fire. These articles were held in
great veneration by the Indians and handled accordingly. Suddenly the fire blazed up, and our hero so far forgot himself as
to begin energetically beating out the flames with the war bonnet, breaking off one of the sacred buffalo horns in the act.
One could almost fill a book with his mishaps and exploits. I will give one of them in his own words as well as I can remember
them. "We were as promising a party of young warriors as our tribe ever sent against any of its ancestral enemies. It was
midsummer, and after going two days' journey from home we began to send two scouts ahead daily while the main body kept a
half day behind. The scouts set out every evening and traveled all night. One night the great war pipe was held out to me
and to Young-Man-Afraid-of- His-Horses. At daybreak, having met no one, we hid our horses and climbed to the top of the nearest
butte to take an observation. It was a very hot day. We lay flat on our blankets, facing the west where the cliff fell off
in a sheer descent, and with our backs toward the more gradual slope dotted with scrub pines and cedars. We stuck some tall
grass on our heads and proceeded to study the landscape spread before us for any sign of man. "The sweeping valleys were dotted
with herds, both large and small, of buffalo and elk, and now and then we caught a glimpse of a coyote slinking into the gulches,
returning from night hunting to sleep. While intently watching some moving body at a distance, we could not yet tell whether
of men or animals, I heard a faint noise behind me and slowly turned my head. Behold! a grizzly bear sneaking up on all fours
and almost ready to spring! "'Run!' I yelled into the ear of my companion, and we both leaped to our feet in a second. 'Separate!
separate!' he shouted, and as we did so, the bear chose me for his meat. I ran downhill as fast as I could, but he was gaining.
'Dodge around a tree!' screamed Young-Man-Afraid. I took a deep breath and made a last spurt, desperately circling the first
tree I came to. As the ground was steep just there, I turned a somersault one way and the bear the other. I picked myself
up in time to climb the tree, and was fairly out of reach when he gathered himself together and came at me more furiously
than ever, holding in one paw the shreds of my breechcloth, for in the fall he had just scratched my back and cut my belt
in two, and carried off my only garment for a trophy! "My friend was well up another tree and laughing heartily at my predicament,
and when the bear saw that he could not get at either of us he reluctantly departed, after I had politely addressed him and
promised to make an offering to his spirit on my safe return. I don't think I ever had a narrower escape," he concluded. During
the troublous times from 1865 to 1877, American Horse advocated yielding to the government at any cost, being no doubt convinced
of the uselessness of resistance. He was not a recognized leader until 1876, when he took the name and place of his uncle.
Up to this time he bore the nickname of Manishnee (Can not walk, or Played out.) When the greater part of the Ogallalas, to
which band he belonged, came into the reservation, he at once allied himself with the peace element at the Red Cloud agency,
near Fort Robinson, Nebraska, and took no small part in keeping the young braves quiet. Since the older and better-known chiefs,
with the exception of Spotted Tail, were believed to be hostile at heart, the military made much use of him. Many of his young
men enlisted as scouts by his advice, and even he himself entered the service. In the early part of the year 1876, there was
a rumor that certain bands were in danger of breaking away. Their leader was one Sioux Jim, so nicknamed by the soldiers.
American Horse went to him as peacemaker, but was told he was a woman and no brave. He returned to his own camp and told his
men that Sioux Jim meant mischief, and in order to prevent another calamity to the tribe, he must be chastised. He again approached
the warlike Jim with several warriors at his back. The recalcitrant came out, gun in hand, but the wily chief was too quick
for him. He shot and wounded the rebel, whereupon one of his men came forward and killed him. This quelled the people for
the time being and up to the killing of Crazy Horse. In the crisis precipitated by this event, American Horse was again influential
and energetic in the cause of the government. From this time on he became an active participant in the affairs of the Teton
Sioux. He was noted for his eloquence, which was nearly always conciliatory, yet he could say very sharp things of the duplicity
of the whites. He had much ease of manner and was a master of repartee. I recall his saying that if you have got to wear golden
slippers to enter the white man's heaven no Indian will ever get there, as the whites have got the Black Hills and with them
all the gold. It was during the last struggle of his people, at the time of the Messiah craze in 1890-1891 that he demonstrated
as never before the real greatness of the man. While many of his friends were carried away by the new thought, he held aloof
from it and cautioned his band to do the same. When it developed into an extensive upheaval among the nations he took his
positive stand against it. Presently all Indians who did not dance the Ghost Dance were ordered to come into camp at Pine
Ridge agency. American Horse was the first to bring in his people. I was there at the time and talked with him daily. When
Little was arrested, it had been agreed among the disaffected to have him resist, which meant that he would be roughly handled.
This was to be their excuse to attack the Indian police, which would probably lead to a general massacre or outbreak. I know
that this desperate move was opposed from the beginning by American Horse, and it was believed that his life was threatened.
On the day of the "Big Issue", when thousands of Indians were gathered at the agency, this man Little, who had been in hiding,
walked boldly among them. Of course the police would arrest him at sight, and he was led toward the guardhouse. He struggled
with them, but was overpowered. A crowd of warriors rushed to his rescue, and there was confusion and a general shout of "Hurry
up with them! Kill them all!" I saw American Horse walk out of the agent's office and calmly face the excited mob. "What are
you going to do?" he asked. "Stop, men, stop and think before you act! Will you murder your children, your women, yes, destroy
your nation to-day?" He stood before them like a statue and the men who held the two policemen helpless paused for an instant.
He went on: "You are brave to-day because you outnumber the white men, but what will you do to-morrow? There are railroads
on all sides of you. The soldiers will pour in from every direction by thousands and surround you. You have little food or
ammunition. It will be the end of your people. Stop, I say, stop now!" Jack Red Cloud, son of the old chief rushed up to him
and thrust a revolver almost in his face. "It is you and men like you," he shouted, "who have reduced our race to slavery
and starvation!" American Horse did not flinch but deliberately reentered the office, followed by Jack still flourishing the
pistol. But his timely appearance and eloquence had saved the day. Others of the police force had time to reach the spot,
and with a large crowd of friendly Indians had taken command of the situation. When I went into the office I found him alone
but apparently quite calm. "Where are the agent and the clerks?" I asked. "They fled by the back door," he replied, smiling.
"I think they are in the cellar. These fools outside had almost caught us asleep, but I think it is over now." American Horse
was one of the earliest advocates of education for the Indian, and his son Samuel and nephew Robert were among the first students
at Carlisle. I think one or two of his daughters were the handsomest Indian girls of full blood that ever seen. His record
as a councilor of his people and his policy in the new situation that confronted them was manly and consistent.
From: historical accounts & records
LINK TO BRAVEHORSE WARRIORS VOLUME TWO
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