The battle at the Little Bighorn was a tremendous victory for the gathered tribes against the white soldiers of the United States Western Frontier Army entering their hallowed ground. There had been many smaller engagements between the two adversaries with the Indians normally realizing small victories if any. This time it was different. The overwhelming number of warriors engaged the soldiers and took the victory in fairly short order, handing a defeat to the cavalry unlike any they had ever seen before.

The number of the soldiers of the 7th cavalry killed in the battle at the Little Bighorn river is placed at approximately 260 killed and buried in place where they fell. The number of Indians that were also killed is not exactly known although they were far, far less than their adversaries numbering perhaps in the dozens if that many. Most if not all of the bodies of the slain warriors were removed from the field of battle immediately after the fight was over and taken back to the camp and their families.

The battlefield became a quiet eerie place where the only sounds were the rushing of the wind through the tall Montana grass where the dead had lain and the occasional call of a raven flying overhead. The gunshots, battle cries and the screaming of the victors over the moaning of those still alive after it was over were long gone. Silence reigned supreme over the Greasy Grass. It became a place where the spirits wandered over the low hills and along the riverside. It was a place of big medicine.

As time passed there were the occasional reports of things that couldn’t be explained occurring. A shadowy figure riding slowly in the near dark of impending dusk. The sound of hooves breaking the surface of the gently moving river. A pale rider just visible in the light of a full moon as he crossed slowly from one bank to another. It is unknown whether the young rider was a participant in the battle, becoming a casualty, or simply a dream produced by the medicine of the battle. In any case if you happened to be there now on that long ago battlefield, and by chance stayed until the river was illuminated by the light of a full moon, you might see the ghost child riding on his endless vigil. Remember there is big medicine there. And there are things that cannot be explained.