Free Black Elk Speaks by John G. Neihardt Page A

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 Wasichu in that bush.” And there was. He had hidden there when the other soldiers ran to the hill-top 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 outrunning. 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 Wasichus, who were lying in their dugins, 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; 25  so we all broke camp. Before dark we were ready and we started upthe 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). 26
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 Wasichu, died that night.

12
Grandmother’s Land
    At the end of the Moon of Falling Leaves (October), after they had killed Crazy Horse, the Wasichus told us we must move from where we were over to the Missouri River and live there at different agencies they had made for us. One big band started with Red Cloud, and we started with another big band under Spotted Tail. These two bands were about a day’s travel apart.
    Our people were all sad because Crazy Horse was dead, and now they were going to pen us up