Terry, although he was not an experienced Indian fighter, had divined the position of the Indians with remarkable accuracy, and he fully expected to find them on the Little Big Horn. If Custer had followed Terry’s orders, he would have reached the Indians on the day that Gibbon’s men, as we shall see, rescued Reno. After the disaster Terry magnanimously strove at first to conceal from the public the fact that Custer had disobeyed his orders. Custer had paid the penalty for his disobedience with his life, and Terry was willing to bear the odium of the defeat and failure. His self-sacrifice was noble and characteristic; but a mistake, caused by the carelessness of General Sherman, coupled with the enterprise of a brilliant newspaper reporter, who posed as a regularly accredited government messenger, defeated Terry’s intent, and instead of the first report, which made no allusion to the disobedience of orders, being made public,[69] a second report, which told the whole story, and which was intended for the authorities alone, was given to the press and immediately spread broadcast. The first report soon turned up, and Terry thereafter was made the victim of unmerited obloquy by Custer’s partizans, who said that the absence of any mention in the original report of any disobedience on the part of Custer, and the alleged failure to allude to the plan of campaign which Custer had frustrated, was evidence that no importance was attached to the plan by Terry or any one until after the failure and consequent popular indignation. Terry’s answer to this was a noble silence, to save Custer’s reputation. The living assumed the responsibility to protect the fame of the dead—honor to him! General Gibbon also has gone on record in a letter to Terry regarding the situation: “So great was my fear that Custer’s zeal would carry him forward too rapidly, that the last thing I said to him when bidding him good-by after his regiment had filed past you when starting on his march was, ‘Now, Custer, don’t be greedy, but wait for us.’ He replied gaily as, with a wave of his hand, he dashed off to follow his regiment, ‘No, I will not.’ Poor fellow! Knowing what we do now, and what an effect a fresh Indian trail seemed to have had upon him, _perhaps we were expecting too much to anticipate a forbearance on his part which would have rendered coöperation of the two columns practicable_.[70]