On August 15th, 1867, Captain Murie and his Pawnees arrived at the Platte and set up camp near the old Plum Creek station on the south side of the big river. This was once the boundary line between the now crumbling Cheyenne and Sioux Nations. At the Cheyenne camp smoke signals trailed across the summer skies, and now and then came the distant throb of a drum, its fast staccato, sometimes mocking.
The Pawnee were eager to fight in the hopes that the booty from the freight train might fall into their hands. But, Frank North, major strategist and soldier, held back the tide of recklessness. The first days of the campaign went by unmarked by any clash of rifle butt against tomahawk.
By the morning of August 17th, the mood however changed and Major North knew the confrontation between the Pawnee and Cheyenne could not be postponed much longer. North and Murie dispatched a reconnoitering party of ten Pawnee horsemen led by Lieutenant Isaac Davis. A few miles from the bank they encountered 150 Cheyenne along with a sprinkling of Sioux. The band was led by Chief Turkey Leg himself, who ordered his tribesmen to forgo the use of their new rifles, since the enemy so obviously outnumbered.
Bows were lifted and a volley of arrows enveloped the small Pawnee command. None found a mark. Lt. Davis ordered his men to hold their fire. The Chief and his band advanced to within fifty yards before Davis ordered his men into one of the thickets of wild plum trees which gave the creek its name.
The Cheyenne-Sioux contingent jumped from their horses and crawled on the ground toward the thicket, firing one arrow after another. However, under cover of the shielding grove, Davis and the Pawnee reached a shallow ford in the river and made their way back to camp.
A Pawnee bugler blew his instrument for formation. Horses trained to war pawed at the earth as the line assembled. Pawnees, eager to meet their enemy, shouted in derisive boasts about what they planned to do to their foe, and the tense day exploded into battle.
From a ford on a trail that by-passed the thicket, Chief Turkey Leg and his warriors appeared in full fighting assemblage. Spears and carbines were lifted, and all might have been lost except for the courage of one man – Frank North. Seasoned in the art of Indian warfare, he followed the rule of thumb; – 'attack is always the best defense', so before the Cheyenne Chief could give a command, the scouts began to charge.
Heading an advance of ten Pawnee sharpshooters, Major North sped forward, leading them towards the stream. Behind him rode Captain Murie with the remaining 25 scouts. The Pawnee arrived at the creek first and crossed over on a rickety old bridge near an abandoned stageline then plunged into the creek’s muddy channel.
The fighting soon began and lasted well into the early evening. When it was over, not only had the Pawnee captured a pack wagon, but Turkey Leg’s wife and nephew as well....
In the end, the mighty Cheyenne and Sioux had lost the battle – though they out-numbered the Pawnee six to one.
Excerpt from the book "Fighting Cheyennes" by George Bird Grinnell
