"Heaps Injuns down there"

well, not when we arrived. we were a little late to the party.

one of the things about history that i love so much is the opportunity to visit the sites where important events occurred and to walk in the paths that were worn by the men that made the history.

for many years, one of my favorite reading topics has been the plains indians of the north american continent.

the real destruction of these people as a military effort began in oklahoma in 1868. at the urging of sherman and sheridan and the hands of custer, black kettle's band of northern cheyenne were destroyed on the banks of the washita river in western oklahoma. within one year of this event all southern cheyenne were relegated to reservation life.

jackson, dad, eric, ethan and i left home the morning after thanksgiving for the long drive up to cheyenne, ok. after several hours, neil met us in decatur, tx. the drive through oklahoma was interesting as most all of the towns we found were filled with beautiful buildings looking to be around 100 years old. most were vacant. they appeared to have once been thriving little towns that were decimated by the great depression. they are mostly still trying to recover from the loss of residents and industry.

our original plan was to camp in the black kettle national grassland in an effort to create the illusion of camping in the middle of the plains in the way one would have done 140 years ago. being the last weekend of hunting season, and the grassland being the largest public hunting grounds in western oklahoma; we changed our minds about camp location. we opted for the great plains state park. the park was virtually empty. it is beautiful area situated right on a lake. the night grew colder as we erected our camp, built a fire, and settled in to cook dinner. pencil sausages, fried potatoes and dutch oven cobbler were washed down with smoking hot cocoa.

the wind was really blowing like crazy while neil told the boys a story about the ghosts of the headless indians who now lived on the other side of the lake. the squawking of hundreds of ducks out on the lake sounded just enough like whooping indians to give the story a little credence. after all the cold wind we could take, we finally got in our tents and hoped they wouldn't blow over.

the morning was beautiful. a bald eagle high up in his tree monitored our work of taking down our camp. we drove into hobart, ok for some breakfast. after some inquiry, we found the kozy diner. jackson was little nervous about walking into a restaurant in oklahoma considering all of the texas longhorn gear we were wearing. i assured him we'd be alright and hoped i wasn't lying. we had a great breakfast of biscuits and gravy, eggs, bacon and toast for very little cost.

after an hour or so we were in cheyenne. we arrived at the visitor center and listened to the party line concerning the battle; first from the park ranger, then as given in a 20 minute video produced for the visitor center. one quote stated that the whites "had every right to be there." meaning moving onto the indians land and expecting the former residents to get out. that was fine. i knew better.

jackson earned a junior ranger badge. after buying the obligatory book, pin, and magnet we drove out to the actual battle site.



this area, in winter, is not welcoming. it is made up of mostly brown grasses, a few trees, and wind. as we hiked down into the river bottom, we found that the temperature warmed a bit, the wind eased up and we were much more comfortable. it was a bit of a refuge from the surrounding cold.



i found it interesting that it is not known exactly where the main camp of lodges was located. it is generally thought to be in an area on the southeast corner of the valley, though no archaeological evidence had yet been found. the significant changes in the river's course in the past have not helped efforts. the trail does not lead the visitor into the area where the lodges were thought to have been grouped and the high weeds and grasses in between do not encourage exploration. neither does the trail travel too closely to the river itself. we decided to get off trail. we followed the river bed up stream to the area where the camp is said to have been. the river is pretty clean and easy to access. not being very wide, it would be very easy to cross. i was surprised at how swiftly the water was flowing. i saw how this would be a great place to stop for refuge in the middle of a cold winter. it would also be an awfully cold place to die. surviving wouldn't be a lot better when all of your possessions and food had been consumed by fire and your 875 ponies massacred. it was hard to know what to feel while we were walking the trail.

we left the trail again to stand on a high promontory overlooking the whole site. it is speculated that custer stood here to watch as the "battle" proceeded. it did provide a clear view of all the involved area.




after a very cold and windy lunch at the top of the bluff, we made our way for home. before the trip, i had read, many times, accounts of the battle ; but, they seemed a little different having been in the place. i can now visualize black kettle and medicine woman later lying in that water, both having been shot in the back. i had climbed the hillside so many ran up in their efforts to escape. it is a strange thing to try and understand the thinking of peoples who lived so long ago, but maybe that is the reason i love so much to read of them.