I. How it was.

The buffalo, once princes of the plains,
a shadow now, where mighty herds had reigned.
As destiny conspired 'gainst their domains,
'til only few survivors have remained.

Back then they roamed in thund'rous, dusty clouds,
where sixty million strong owned middle earth,
on open prairie grass, 'twas never plowed,
and Indians all knew their sacred worth.

The bison's meat was very low on fat,
but full of protein's life-sustaining force.
Their furry hides made blankets, belts, fur hats,
plus coats, warm boots, and mittens too, of course.

In fact, for natives, nothing went unused:
the organs, brains, all bones, and even guts.
They made nomadic life richly infused,
with buffalo trail ruts among their huts.

It's here where tragic destiny may show,
I've lived a life of hunting buffalo.
<>


II. My story

I've lived a life of hunting buffalo,
and later I became ashamed of that,
but early on in life it wasn't so.
I couldn't see the future, were I sat.

My given name is simply Matt Montana,
whose family crossed through the famous GAP,
then settled Tuscaloosa, Alabama,
to farm the land, but also hunt and trap.

'Twas eighteen forty three when trouble struck.
My Pa was out there sweatin' in the field,
mosquito ridden lowland full of muck,
when backache, headache, fever was revealed.

It went away, but then came back instead.
It caught my Ma, my sister, brother too.
Within a month, my family was dead,
and I was left there, wond'rin' what to do.

I figured that, to leave there was the best.
With Pa's Kentucy rifle, headed West.
<>


III. Going West, the Sighting

With Pa's Kentucky rifle, headed West.
I also had his trusty Bowie Knife.
These things would guide my life, I can attest.
For fickle are the winds that rule a life.

I walked all day, found shelter every night.
Then met a friend named Alan on the way.
We followed wagon trails in easy sight.
Saw most majestic scene on one fine day.

From top of hill, we spotted endless herd
of buffalo, that ran in thund'rous roar.
From South to North, their bovine bodies blurred.
For day and night they passed by, by the score.

I never seen such numbers here before.
They left a great impression on my mind,
a dazed amazement, at my very core,
a stirrin' in my soul, yet undefined.

I shot one at the back of the stampede,
An action that forever set the seed.
<>


IV. Gettin' to Kansas

An action that forever set the seed,
a taste of something barely known to me.
Unwary as to where that taste may lead,
we traveled on, 'til we reached St. Louie.

From there we worked a paddleboat to Kansas,
as stokers, shoveling coal into the fire.
Fort Leavenworth had promised some bonanzas,
for those who shoot the buffalo for hire.

They needed meat to feed the hungry troops.
So with a borrowed wagon and my gun,
we found a herd, and shot a couple groups,
providin' bison food for everyone.

That gave me a good living for a while.
I sold my gun, but won one playin' cards,
now I hunt buffalo in frontier style,
My Sharpes can shoot them from three hundred yards.

In sixty two, the railroad barons came.
Then wholesale slaughter soon became the game.
<>


V. The Railroads

Then wholesale slaughter soon became the game.
Oh sure, they needed meat to feed the crew,
but endless herds on tracks were most to blame.
We started killin' thousands, not a few.

The railroads made a carnival of it,
where train cars left their windows down to shoot
at herds, while leavin' carcasses to sit,
and rot there in the sun, along the route.

Now I became a well-paid hunting guide,
who takes large groups to shoot with wanton care.
They only want the skull, the horns, and hide.
They leave the rest decayin' everywhere.

In sixty five, the Civil War would end.
Now Sherman, Grant,and Sheridan would act.
Without the bison herds, the tribes would bend.
Make buffalo extinction now a fact.

From here, the prior death toll number pales.
They authorized the kill on greater scales.
<>


VI. The Great Slaughter for Fun and Profit

They authorized the kill on greater scales.
I found myself enamored by the pitch.
At twenty five gold bucks for hides, in sales,
and seventy five cents per tongue, I'm rich!

See, Bison have a quirk, when one is shot,
the others stand, not knowing what to do,
so in a day, I can shoot quite a lot,
about two fifty with my skinnin' crew.

That's sixty five cool hundred dollars cash,
a fortune in this certain century.
Enough to make too many marksmen dash,
to earn a wage at this activity.

And there were even betting contests held,
to see which hunter could kill off the most.
They'd shoot until their barrels nearly melt.
The plains became a place of bison ghosts.

The natives lost what tribes depended on,
By eighty five, the buffalo were gone.
<>


VII. Aftermath

By eighty five , the buffalo were gone.
I lost my source of livin' once again.
The plains were now a charnel field of bones,
and filled with bored and idle riflemen.

But then, redemption came through from the East,
as fertilizer came to great demand,
while lying there were sundried bones of beast,
to gather free, as plentiful as sand.

We shot the bison, tamed the indians,
shipped trains of bones out eastward by the ton,
a blow to beasts and Homo Sapiens.
I'm sad to say, that's how the West was won.

So, write about the slaughter, misery.
I'm Matt Montana, that's my given name.
Remember, when you give my history,
our nation, whole, bares both the blame and shame.

Of those vast herds, a tiny few remain.
The buffalo, once princes of the plains.
<>

Author Notes

I felt the story of the Great Buffalo Slaughter should be told. There once were two large herds of buffalo that roamed across the Great Plains of the United States. The estimates range from 40 million to 60 million, at their peak. That is about 20-30 million in each group. It is said, that it would take as many as 2 days for the herd to thunder past. By the time the slaughter was complete, there somewhere between only 400 and 1200 bison left. The Gap - I was referencing the Cumberland Gap that was discovered by Daniel Boone, allowing Western expansion across the Appalachian mountains. In the 1840's there was a Yellow Fever epidemic throughout the southern United States, that killed thousands. The early symptoms were: a backache with a headache followed by a fever that lasted 5-6 days, after which the patient may recover. But if there was a relapse, they would die. The Kentucky, long barrel rifle, was the main US made rifle in the early colonies. It helped win the revolution. The gun was a flintlock made by German immigrants around Philadelphia. It fired a 44 caliber ball that was accurate to about 200 yards, max. It could easily pull down large game. Bowie Knife - a large hunting knife popularized by Jim Bowie. Stokers - men who shoveled coal into steam engine boilers. Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, was located in a strategic area for westward expansion, being along the major wagon trails, as well as on the Missouri River. Bonanza - a rich source of income, usually attributed to mining. Sharpes Rifle - the quintessential buffalo hunting rifle. It was a carbine, accurate to 300 yards (some claimed to 400 yards). It used a 55 caliber cartridge. Usually used with a tripod. Also known as Beecher's Bibles, when 500 were shipped to St. Louis in boxes marked as "Bibles." After the civil war, the war with the Plains Indians, began in earnest. The US Army had been unsuccessful in beating the tribes in skirmishes. General Sherman determined that the best way to defeat them was to eliminate the buffalo upon which their entire society was based. He said that it was better and easier to kill a bufflo, than an Indian. In 1875, General Sheridan went before congress and asked that the elimination of the bison continue, as that had done more to tame the Indians than 40 years of battling them. That same year, President Grant pocket vetoed a bill to stop the extinction. $6,500 in 1865 is about $100,000 today. We're I come from, route rhymes with shoot. For this poem I did you a few lines of feminine iambic meter. This picture is from yahoo images.

Its moniker is - Ugh the Tug -
Whose engines chug within the bay
His whistle blows, he'll chug-a-lug,
To push the barges down the way.

Whose engines chug within the bay,
A powerful force for his size.
To push the barges down the way,
The large long load a big surprise.

A powerful force for his size.
He'll manage twelve in double file,
The large long load a big surprise.
The sight might cause a silly smile.

He'll manage twelve in double file,
So small for such a tough ordeal.
The sight might cause a silly smile,
With captain smug behind the wheel.

So small for such a tough ordeal.
His whistle blows, he'll chug-a-lug,
With captain smug behind the wheel.
Its moniker is - Ugh the Tug.

Author Notes

Of course I had to write a poem for this one. That name just tickles my Muse. I spotted this little tugboat parked along the Mississippi river in St. Paul. I've seen it pushing huge strings of barges, although this day is was idle. This poem is a Pantoum. A Pantoum is a poem that is made up of quatrains with interweaving repeated lines. In that sense, the Pantoum is a form of poetry similar to a Villanelle. It is composed of a series of quatrains; the second and fourth lines of each stanza are repeated as the first and third lines of the next. This pattern continues for any number of stanzas, except for the final stanza, which differs in the repeating pattern. The first and third lines of the last stanza are the second and fourth of the penultimate; the first line of the poem is the last line of the final stanza, and the third line of the first stanza is the second of the final. Ideally, the meaning of lines shifts when they are repeated although the words remain exactly the same. So, although they are the same words, their meaning is changed. this gives the poem it's intrinsic beauty. A four-stanza pantoum is common,(although more may be used) and in the final stanza, you could simply repeat lines one and three from the first stanza, or write new lines. The pantoum outline is as follows: Stanza 1 A B C D (or A C B D) Stanza 2 B E D F (or C E D F) Stanza 3 E G F H Stanza Stanza 4 G I (or A or C) H J (or A or C) No specific meter requirement is identified. I wrote this one in iambic tetrameter. This photograph was written by the author himself on March 6, 2016.

Chapter 45
Dryad's Dance

By Treischel

A willow greets the fading sun,
the day near done, with arms stretched wide.
A wooden maiden, torso spun,
begun when silhouettes subside.

She weeps her greenest tear-dropped leaves.
She grieves the final warm embrace.
A trace of sun, as willow weaves
achieve a golden veil, with grace.

She poses in that hidden vale,
proud Dryad goddess of the green.
Eurydice, seen in father's trail,
a female form in dance, serene.

Her branches raised in fifth en haut,
so taut, she holds at full arret,
leaves set in braided green and gold,
behold this willow's wild ballet.

Author Notes

This poem is an Animated Still. Animated stills are poems where inanimate objects take on human, animal, or spirit forms, traits, or articles. They are derived from Photographs I have taken, that have moved me to write a poem associated with it. They require a close look at the photograph, and some imagination, to spot them. In this case, focus on the trunk of the tree. I see a set of crossed legs that instigate a female form with arms raised. The left arm is bent at the elbow. Hope you see it too. The photo was taken just before sunset, when the sun was low and the shadows are long. Dryad - In Greek mythology, the Dryads are female spirits of nature (nymphs), who preside over the groves and forests. Each one is born with a certain tree over which she watches. A Dryad either lives in a tree, in which case she is called a hamadryad, or close to it. The lives of the Dryads are connected with that of the trees; should the tree perish, then she dies with it. If this is caused by a mortal, the gods will punish him for that deed. The Dryads themselves will also punish any thoughtless mortal who would somehow injure the trees. Euridice, - (pronounced you-RI-dike), was an oak nymph or one of the daughters of Apollo (the god of music, prophecy, and light, who also drove the sun chariot, 'adopting' the power as god of the Sun from the primordial god Helios). Thus my reference to wanting a final warm embrace in her father's trail. En Haut - is a reference to a ballet arm position, where the arms are raised with one arm bent at elbow pointing up, and the other tailing out from the shoulder behind. Arret - a french term used in ballet meaning to hold position in a long pause. This format is a Modified Awdl Gwyd., wherein the inline rhyme's position floats, and the syllable count changes from 7 to 8. This poem is written in iambic tetrameter where the rhyme in lines 1 and 3 are repeated in line 2 and 4. So the rhyme scheme is a,ab,a,ab - c,cd,c,cd - e,ef,e,ef - g,gh,g,gh. This photograph was taken by the author himself on July 17, 2016.

Chapter 46
Bluster Gone Bad - Fetterman Fight

By Treischel

“Give me 80 men, and I can ride through the whole Sioux Nation.”

• Captain William J. Fetterman, US Army, 18th Infantry, at Fort Phil Kearny, Wyoming.

1. The Overview

 
Oh what a tale of bluster going bad!
Lakota dubbed “One Hundred in the Hand,”
the battle Captain Fetterman has had.
It prequels Gen’ral Custer’s known last stand.
 
It happened late in eighteen sixty six
right near the fort along the Bozeman Trail
named after Phillip Kearney’s politics,
since often martial hero’s names prevail.
 
That’s where just seven hundred guard the path
the wagon trains all take to Oregon.
A flippant quip left tragic aftermath
from native strength the troops would come upon.
 
A Captain, vet’ran of the Civil War
distinguished twice in war, then brevetted
for gallantry, had confidence galore.
His fatal words would soon be edited.
 
Had Fetterman obeyed as he deployed
Things could have been so easy to avoid.
 
 

1. Background

 
Things could have been so easy to avoid,
but Fetterman thought he knew better than
the boss, whose caution kept our man annoyed
the day his reassignment first began.
 
However, details started years before,
wth treaties meant to settle tribal claims.
Nine tribes agreed safe passage to restore
for travelers who go across the plains.
 
The Laramie Treaty was signed that day,
September seventeen of fifty one,
at Horse Creek, in the place where they all say,
agreement signed for large pledged annual sum.
 
The native tribes were promised the Black Hills
as well as other sacred tribal lands,
but agents often withheld dollar bills,
gold miners disregarded treaty bans.
 
Illegal settlers started towns and farms,
No wonder angry warriors took up arms.
 
 

1. Enough is Enough, Says Red Cloud.

 
No wonder angry warriors took up arms,
Invaders started coming to and fro!
Much worse, were rumors setting off alarms,
of white men killing off the buffalo.
 
Chief Red Cloud questioned the invader threat
within the counsel giving ringing speech.
“Did the White Father’s leadership forget
the promises that our signed papers preach?”
 
“Our sacred grounds were to stay out-of-bounds,
so wagon trains near us stay hostile free,
with pathway to pass through our hunting grounds,
so iron horse can travel to the sea.”
 
“Well they were not to tarry long with us,
but they built forts, and settled on our spoil.
To kill the herds I find most treasonous,
and from these evil deeds I must recoil.”
 
“This surely is not what we bargained for.
So listen my Dakotas, I’m for War!”
 
 

1. Within The Fort

 
“So listen my Dakotas, I’m for War!”
With those words they began those short attacks
of Bozeman Trail forts that the tribes abhor,
supporting Red Cloud’s angry speech climax.
 
Fort Kearney, foremost target of their rage
had Colonel Covington there in command.
A cautious leader, slower to engage,
but many under him didn’t understand.
 
He’d send patrols of guarded fire wood cutters,
with special orders to avoid  the ridge,
because it’s out of sight from sentry spotters
upon the rampart’s observation bridge.
 
There’d been some sorties and some skirmishes.
Large camps of Indians were seen nearby.
While sundry warriors made bold flourishes,
their smoke signals sent warnings in the sky.
 
While in the fort repressed emotions ran,
and here begins the tale of Fetterman.
 
 

1. The Bait

 
And here begins the tale of Fetterman,
This fearless leader of a mounted troop
with eighty one within his caravan,
prepared for battle honors to recoup.
 
With group of cutters under heavy siege,
he volunteered to lend required relief.
The cautious Colonel ordered short adage –
“Relieve, do not pursue,” His message brief.
 
The Captain issued here his fatal quote,
“Just give me eighty men and I’ll ride through
the whole Sioux Nation.” Papers later note.
Then flourished a salute in smart adieu.
 
With that the sentinels swung wide the gate,
while flashing colors galloped in great haste,
and heedless of the signs, charged to their fate.
A useless tragedy of human waste.
 
Brave soldiers, ready for a deadly duel,
unwary that their leader was a fool.
 
 

1. Red Cloud’s Plan

 
Unwary that their leader was a fool,
who took them straight into a well laid trap,
where fatal lessons learned can be so cruel,
with overwhelming odds the handicap.
 
For Red Cloud had about one thousand men,
all well concealed in woods beyond the ridge.
As decoys tribes selected only ten,
with Crazy Horse’s courage as their edge.
 
The plan was; have the decoys be exposed
to taunt the soldiers into giving chase
beyond the ridge, where they would be enclosed
and overcome by numbers that they’d face.
 
Now, woodcutters were working in the pines,
to gather wood for cooking and for warmth,
accompanied by troops as their lifelines,
became besieged  by warriors from the North.
 
A crisis, upon which the plan was hung.
And so the trap was ready to be sprung.
 
 

1. The Final Act

 
And so the trap was ready to be sprung.
On Fetterman whose brav’ry and contempt
would bring his eighty one to fight among
those very foes he thought he could preempt.
 
While Covington gave orders of restraint,
the captain’s mood was having none of that,
when Crazy Horse appeared, with no constraint
he took the bait and raced into combat.
 
Where there he ate his words in total shock,
as death surrounded him on every side.
Confronted by the bow and tomahawk,
soon every person with the Captain died.
 
Reports said six just died from bullet wounds.
The rest succumbed to ancient injuries.
Their bodies mutilated and festooned
about the ground, proclaiming victories.
 
The worst Great Plains disaster ever had.
Oh what a tale of bluster going bad!
 
 
 

Author Notes

My poem does use some feminine iambic lines. Brevetted - a battlefield promotion, Fetterman went from Lieutenant, to Lieutenant Colonel during the war. Annual Sum - The treaty of Fort Laramie promised $50,000 annually to the tribes, forever, but Congress shortened the term to 10 years. Most of the money never reached the tribes. Sundry - several, diverse, various. Recoup - regain, gain back (Fetterman�???�??�?�¢??s war glory) Adage - proverb, wise saying, wise addition Most people have heard of Custer's Last Stand at the Battle of the Little Bighorn, but Fetterman's Fight was an earlier and a larger disaster. The Fetterman Fight, also known as the Fetterman Massacre or Battle of the Hundred-in-the-Hands, was a battle during Red Cloud's War on December 21, 1866, between the Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho Indians and soldiers of the United States Army, based at Fort Phil Kearny, Wyoming. The U.S. military mission was to protect travelers on the Bozeman Trail. A group of ten warriors, including the later-legendary Crazy Horse, acted to lure a detachment of soldiers into an ambush. All 81 men under the command of Captain William J. Fetterman were killed by the Indians. At the time, it was the worst military disaster ever suffered by the U.S. Army on the Great Plains. Note that the year 1866 was just one year after the end of the Civil War. Although an Infantry Unit, Captain Fetterman was part of a Calvary detachment. In June 1866, Colonel Henry B. Carrington advanced into the Powder River country, to protect emigrants traveling west along the Bozeman Trail. He build 3 forts, and headquartered at Fort Phil Kearney. During their construction, he suffered about 50 Indian attacks, losing a total of more than 20 soldiers and civilians Carrington had 700 soldiers and 300 civilians in his command. A Cavalry unit was dispatched to him then from Fort Laramie, which included Captain Fetterman. Although he had no experience fighting Indians, Fetterman criticized Carrington's defensive posture and expressed contempt about the Indian foes. He allegedly boasted that statement at the top.Many other officers shared Fetterman's feelings and a mutinous mood was beginning to prevail. Source: Wikipedia. Red Clouds statements were paraphrased. The rest of the story is told in my poem. This poem is a Crown of Heroic Sonnets. The Crown of heroic sonnets is a sequence of seven Heroic Sonnets usually addressed to one person. It is concerned with a single theme and each Sonnet explores a different aspect of the theme and is linked to the preceding and succeeding sonnets by repeating the final line of the preceding Sonnet as its first line and by having its final line be the first line of the succeeding Sonnet. The first line of the first Sonnet is repeated as the final line of the final Sonnet thereby bringing the sequence to a circular close. A Heroic Sonnet is an iambic pentameter based poem that adds a heroic couplet to either two Sicilian octave stanzas or four Sicilian quatrain stanzas. In other words, it's eighteen lines of iambic pentameter broken into three or five parts with the last part being a couplet. The rhyme scheme has usually been: a,b,a,b,a,b,a,b - c,d,c,d,c,d,c,d - e,e (three parts) OR a,b,a,b - c,d,c,d - e,f,e,f - g,h,g,h - i,i. (five parts) I chose the latter. Photo as annotated. Figure 1. Kim Douglas Wiggins' study of the Fetterman Fight, early 21st century.

Chapter 47
Nez Perce War 1877

By Treischel

The sounds of battle echo through the Mountains,
resounding off the cliffs of Yellowstone,
from fighting for their tribe's very survival,
were warriors of the native clan, Nez Perce.

The year they fought was eighteen seven seven.
Just after Custer met his final fate.
The tribe was fleeing north to Canada,
where Sitting Bull escaped United States.

The fighting raged from June into October,
through several sets fought fiercely in retreat.
It covered over some one thousand miles.
The final battle lasted five fierce days.

At Snake Creek, in Montana's Bear Paw Mountains,
the sounds of anguish echoed through the hills.
Just forty miles distance from the border,
Chief Joseph ceded fate to General Howard.

"I'm tired of fighting, war chiefs are all killed. "
"People, hear me!" said worn and grizzled Chief.
"I'm sick and sad; will fight no more forever. "
So with that, the Nez Perce clan surrendered.

Their battle tactics soon became renowned
The nation was impressed by their finesse.
And even Sherman marveled at their conduct.
Chief Joseph's words went down in history.

" I Will fight no more forever."

Author Notes

This is a sad story of a fierce, proud people that fought against all odds, but finally surrendered just short of their goal. Even with the accolades mentioned on their bravery and tactics, it didn't stop them from being arched to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas and ultimately a reservation in Oklahoma.This, after being promised they would be returned to their homeland in Idaho upon surrender. This poem is a Blank Verse which is an unrhymed series of quatrains written in iambic pentameter. I did employ some feminine iambic lines. Picture from Yahoo Images.

Chapter 48
Fetterman's Fight

By Treischel

Have you heard of Custer's last stand? Well there was another equally tragic and ,much overshadped event promulgated by the same cast of characters (Red Cloud and Crazy Horse). I tell that story here.

 

Fetterman’s Fight
(Crown of Heroic Sonnets)

Oh what a tale of bluster going bad!
Lakota dubbed, “One hundred in the Hand.”
is battle that a Captain Fetterman had.
The prequel to George Custer’s famous stand.

It happened late in eighteen sixty six,
quite near the Fort along the Bozeman Trail
named after Philip Kearney’s politics
(since often martial heroes' names prevail).

Where seven hundred soldiers guard the path
that wagon trains all take to Oregon,
a flippant quip left tragic aftermath
‘bout native strength the troops would come upon.

The Captain, veteran of the Civil War,
distinguished battle vet, twice brevetted
for gallantry, had confidence galore.
His fatal words would soon be edited.

Had Fetterman just listened, once deployed,
it would have been so easy to avoid.

It would have been so easy to avoid.
But Fetterman considered he’s a better man
than cautious Colonel keeping him annoyed
since when this new assignment first began. 

However, this all started years before
with treaties signed to settle native claims.
Nine tribes agreed to passage safe restore
for settlers traveling over tribal plains.

The Laramie Treaty signed what should be done
Horse Creek was where all the tribes had come
September First of Eighteen Fifty One
gave fifty thousand as an annual sum.

The tribes were promised their sacred Black Hills
and other traditional tribal lands,
but agents often withheld dollar bills,
gold miners ignored the treaty’s commands

Illegal settlers would build towns and farms,
No wonder warriors taking up their arms.

No wonder warriors taking up their arms 
With endless invaders wherever you go,
To make matters worse were endless alarms
that many were killing off their buffalos. 

Chief Red Cloud questioned loud this awful threat
Lakota Council hears his outraged speech.
“Did White Father, their leader, soon forget
the promises signed papers witnessed preach?”

“A pathway to pass through our hunting grounds
so iron horses can go to the sea,
our sacred grounds were to stay out-of-bounds
so wagon trains can travel hostile free.”

“And they were not to tarry long with us,
but now build forts and settle on our soil. 
To kill the buffalo is treasonous!
From evil deeds our people must recoil.”

“This surely is not what we bargained for.
So listen my Dakotas, I’m for war.”

So listen my Dakotas, I’m for war.”
With those bold words began the war’s attacks 
of Bozeman Trail forts warriors most abhor
supporting Red Cloud’s rhetorical climax.

Foremost Fort Kearney, target of their rage,
where Colonel Covington was in command
as cautious leader, not one to engage.
Subordinates soon didn’t understand.

He’d send patrols supporting the woodcutters
with orders to avoid passing the ridge
because was out of sight of trouble spotters
upon the rampart’s observation bridge.

There’d been some sorties and small skirmishes.
Reports said native camps were pitched nearby.
Then several warriors made war-like flourishes.
Smoke signals sent up warnings in the sky.

While in the fort repressed emotions ran,
and here began the tale of Fetterman.

And here began the tale of Fetterman,
that fearless leader of a mounted group,
with eighty one within his caravan
prepared for battle honors to recoup. 

When dozen woodcutters now under siege,
he volunteered to lend required relief.
The Colonel ordered loud a cautious adage,
“Relieve, do not pursue.“ His message brief.

Here Fetterman set forth his fatal quote.
“Just give me eighty men and I’ll ride through
the whole Sioux Nation,” Papers later note.
Then flourished a salute in smart adieu. 

With that the sentinels opened the gate
while flashing colors galloped through in haste.
So heedless warnings, went unto their fates.
A useless tragedy of human waste.

Brave soldiers sent to fight a deadly dual,
were unaware their leader was a fool. 

Were unaware their leader was a fool,
who took them straight into a well-laid trap,
Where lessons learned can be so very cruel,
with overwhelming odds the handicap. 

For Red Cloud had about one thousand men
all well concealed in woods beyond the ridge.
As decoys, Tribes selected only ten,
with Crazy House’s courage as their edge.

The plan, to have the decoys be exposed,
to taunt the soldiers into giving chase.
beyond the ridge where they would be enclosed
and overcome by numbers that they’d face. 

Now, woodcutters were working in the pines
to gather wood for cooking and for warmth,
accompanied by troops as their life-lines,
became besieged by warriors from the North.

A crisis upon which the plan was hung,
and soon the trap was ready to be sprung.

And soon the trap was ready to be sprung
on Fetterman whose bravery and contempt
would bring his eighty one to fight among
those very foes he thought he could preempt.

While Covington gave orders of restraint
the Captains mood was having none of that.
When Crazy Horse appeared without constraint,
he took the bait and raced into combat.

Where there he ate his words in total shock
as death surrounded him on every side
confronting him with bow and tomahawk.
Soon every person with the Captain died. 

Reports said six died from their bullet wounds,
the rest succumbed to ancient injuries.
Their bodies mutilated and festooned 
about, proclaiming battle victories. 

The worst Great Plains disaster Army had.
Oh, what a tale of bluster going bad.

Author Notes

The Fetterman Fight, also known as the Fetterman Massacre or the Battle of the Hundred-in-the-Hands or the Battle of a Hundred Slain,[1] was a battle during Red Cloud's War on December 21, 1866, between a confederation of the Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho tribes and a detachment of the United States Army, based at Fort Phil Kearny, Wyoming. The U.S. military mission was intended to protect travelers on the Bozeman Trail. A group of ten warriors, including Crazy Horse, acted to lure a detachment of U.S. soldiers into an ambush. All 81 men under the command of Captain William J. Fetterman were then killed by the Native American warriors. At the time, it was the worst military disaster ever suffered by the U.S. Army on the Great Plains. Source Wikipedia. Custers Last Stand occurred in June of 1876, ten years later. By then Fetterman had been long forgotten.

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