the story of the washita massacure told from the eyes of a young girl...




Shy bird opened her eyes, had she been dreaming or did it really happen? Tears sprang, unshed to her dark brown eyes. It had happened three days ago. She looked around the borrowed lodge as unbidden, the horrid memories washed over her eleven year old mind.



The morning had begun as any other day, except most of the village was still asleep, dreaming of the promise of peace that their chief had been promised. It was why they were camped so close to the white mans fort after all, the promise of peace...



Shy bird had begun to dress when the first sound exploded. As she rushed out of the lodge, witnessed a sea of white soldiers sweeping through the village, guns blazing, bayonettes slashing anyone trying to escape.



Her heart exploded in her chest when she watched two soldiers carrying babies in their arms. At full gallops they threw them to the ground, smashing their tiny bodies on the ground. She looked toward her lodge as her mother screamed her name. Helplessly she watched her mother be trampled by a mounted soldier.



She felt her tears cascade down her cheeks as she turned to run, anywhere to hide. The river loomed close by, others had ran for its magestic cover also. Some never made it.



As they cowered in their hiding place, Shy bird watched in horror as more of her people were shot down. Her eyes widened when her chief, Black Kettle and his wife were shot in the back as they tried to reach the river. The soldiers weren't satisfied with their murder. They then trampled their dead bodies. She turned her head from the destruction and cried.



In all over half their village was dead, a third of what was left taken captive, they survivors of the slaughter made their way to a village close by. Shy bird had fallen into a deep sleep, not to awaken until three days later.



It was said, that the massacure at washita was a great victory, by general George Armstrong Custer. The truth was it was a vicious attack on the Cheyenne village. It happened early in the morning when most slept. Many warriors were absent at the time, having gone to share news with other villages. Most that were killed that day were women, children, and the elderly. It is my opinon that it wasn't a victory, but an unforgiveable offence toward a proud people doing what they were told by the white government.

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