Ride to Infamy

Ride to Infamy

Suzanne Marsh

Wikmun Yanipi (Man Running), sat quietly on a mountainside. He cleared his mind. A vision began to form. There were many white eyes in blue firing at him. He set off to find the Shaman, who would aid him in discovering what this vision meant. Wikmun Yanipi, like most young men of Lakota, readied himself for the Sun Dance. The men and boys at this very moment were cutting down a ceremonial cottonwood tree. Leather tethers fasten to the tree; the ceremonial drum waited silently. His father, Chief Gall, told him of these things. He had begun his fasting earlier in the day. All his preparations were done in accordance with the laws of his people. Reluctantly, Chief Gall and his family left Wikmun Yanipi for the smaller camp down the river, as was the custom of the Lakota.

The traditional drum and song began; these told of the ancestors of earlier times. The sacred fire was burning, and the ceremonial pipe was passed around. Chief Gall hid himself behind several large trees as he watched Wikmun Yanipi lie down on the ground. The Shaman began his chant, then he pinched flesh between his fingertips. Wikmun Yanipi felt the pain, but it passed quickly. The leather thong was inserted. The Shaman once again pinched the other side of his body and inserted the bone and thong. Wikmun Yanipi felt faint but remained standing. A long tether from the pole was tied; he had to lean backward to move. The music and chanting grew louder. Wikmun Yanipi moved slowly at first; his father had told him that slow was better at first. He could feel the tether pulling; he leaned back further as he moved in a small semicircle. He felt hungry but continued to sing and dance. Chief Gall smiled from his hiding place; his son was now a warrior.

Sacrificing his pain to the Great Spirit was a genuine honor. While he danced, he had another vision, almost exactly like the first one. He saw soldiers dressed in blue, a warrior with long blond hair streaming down his collar as he rode into an ambush. Wikmun Yanipi shook himself. Whatever the vision was, he would discuss it with his father and the Shaman. Wikmun Yanipi danced for four days; he was at the end of his physical endurance. He could not stop until either he collapsed or his flesh was torn from his chest, where the thongs were located.

Wikmun Yanipi continued to dance, weaving on his feet. He leaned back further, pulling on the thongs with his chest muscles. He let out a scream of pain as both thongs gave way to two large chunks of flesh. He had not intended to scream; it just happened. One of the elders strode over to be sure Wikmun Yanipi was not hurt. The young man waited while the elder removed the skewers and thongs. He had succeeded; the Sun Dance was his introduction to manhood.

Later that evening, Chief Gall and his family returned to their tee pee. Wikmun Yanipi ate for the first time in eight days. He gorged himself on buffalo and squash; he felt a true sense of being cleansed. The sun was a brilliant red ball as father and son took a walk through the village. They stopped at the Shaman’s tent. The elderly Shaman heard them, arose from his sitting position in front of his fire:

“Come, what brings you here?” Gall motioned Wikmun Yanipi to speak:

“I come because of my vision; it is twice the same one.” The Shaman listened intently as the boy continued: “The pony soldiers are riding toward camps of Lakota, Cheyenne, and Crow, their leader

is Pehin hangka, his long yellow hair is flying in the wind.”

The Shaman attempted not to show his concern; he merely stated:

“Do not be afraid, Wikmun Yanipi, the vision does not say that you will be in battle.”

Gall knew the Shaman well; he once told him the same things. The two men strode on toward the tip of the camp; campfires burned as the fragrance of the wood smoke traveled throughout the village. Gall soon found himself telling his son Wikmun Yanipi that he received word from Sitting Bull of his vision during the Sun Dance. The vision indicated that the Sioux would defeat Custer. Sitting Bull wished to speak to Gall immediately. Gall rode most of the night to see his old friend and mentor. The stars were visible in the night sky. Gall arrived in the early morning hours. Sitting Bull stood up from his position at the fire: “Gall, come sit by the fire, we will talk. Crazy Horse is also here; we must listen to what my vision is telling us. Gall, you and Crazy Horse are going to lead the war parties.

“Yellow Hair wishes to fight; he is in the Little Bighorn Valley as we speak.”

Crazy Horse quickly conferred with Gall:

“Gall, we meet at the Little Bighorn River, now is the time we fight. No reservations for our people,

I will lead the first attack.”

The hair at the back of Colonel George Armstrong Custer's neck continued to twitch; Little Bighorn Valley was just ahead. Suddenly, there came a blood-curdling yell; the Lakota with Cheyennes were attacking. Crazy Horse met Custer head-on, and Custer made his stand. He had two hundred men under his command; the Lakota and Cheyenne had three thousand. Custer attempted to regroup his troopers, but they were quickly overwhelmed. The soldiers were scalped, and Captain Tom Custer was beheaded. Custer’s entire troop was obliterated. There was a survivor, Captain Myles Keogh’s horse, Comanche.

Gall watched with great anxiety; his Wiknum Yanipi was missing. Crazy Horse promised he would keep the boy safe. Gall, remember Wiknum Yanipi explaining his vision to him. Yellow Hair died in battle; Wiknum Yanipi lay on the battlefield, his life’s blood ebbing. Gall rode his pony, hoping his son was still alive. Finally, Gall found Wiknum Yanipi, his heart racing. He jumped off his pony, strode to Wiknum Yanipi, and held him in his arms as the boy breathed his last breath. Gall, for the first time, felt tears well up in his eyes for the death of his son.

**Author’s notes** Custer’s defeat at Little Bighorn has been the subject of conjecture since the battle took place. Custer’s name still raises debates, especially about his capabilities. He graduated last in his class at West Point. He was not the best strategist, but he was, however, a harsh disciplinarian. His unit had more desertions than most. The Battle of the Little Bighorn took place on June 25, 1876.