The last survivor of that gallant little band had been Sergeant-Major Kennedy, the finest soldier in the regiment. He was not wounded, it appeared, but had expended all his ammunition for both rifle and revolver. Being an officer, he wore a sword. Seeing him, as they supposed, helpless, the Indians resolved to take him alive for the purpose of torturing him. There was not a soldier who knew of the habits of the Indians who would not chose death to captivity any time. The brave Kennedy stood alone in the midst of the bodies of his comrades, fronting death, sword in hand. I like to think of the courage of that heroic man in the midst of that savage, ravening assemblage. With wily treachery the Indians made peace signs, and walked toward him with hands outstretched, saying: “How, How!” Kennedy, who knew the true value of such proceedings, waited until the chief of the band approached him nearly, then thrust his sword up to the hilt into the Indian’s breast. When they found Kennedy’s body he had been pierced by no less than twenty bullets. The other troopers had received one or two bullet wounds each. They were all stripped, scalped, and mutilated.[51] There was a great outcry when this battle became known, and Custer was accused of slaughtering helpless, inoffensive, gentle Indians! Unmerited obloquy was heaped upon him, but those who lived near enough to feel the effects of the Red Scourge realized that he had done for the settlers the best thing that could be done. People who knew, and his superior officers, not only sustained but commended him. Custer again, in command of a much larger force, surprised a more populous village later in this same winter. It was completely in his power. He could have wiped it from the face of the earth, although it contained a force of Indians nearly equal to his own; but he stayed his hand, and said he would spare the savages if they would deliver to him two wretched women, one a young bride, the other a young girl, whom they held in captivity and for whose deliverance the campaign had been undertaken. By masterly skill Custer captured Satanta the Infamous, and held him until the captives were given up. With the expedition was the brother of one of the captives. Custer tells, in his simple, terse manner, with what feelings that whole army watched the poor women brought into camp, and how the boy, the last of his family, stood trembling by the general’s side until he recognized, in one of the wrecks of humanity which the Indians handed over, the sister whom he was seeking.[52] The red-headed cook, referred to above, was with the army again, and proved herself, in her rude way, an angel of mercy and tenderness to these, her wretched sisters. ----- Footnote 45: