Title: General Miles Surveys Field Where Sioux Make Last Stand

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Four Veterans Prepare for The Moving Picture Pageant.

Auto Instead of Faithful Horse Bears Them to Summit.


Rushville, Neb., Oct. 11 — The moving of the great motion picture camp from the battlefield of Wounded Knee has been completed and today will begin the second of the historical series depicting the fatal end of the Indian wars, brought about through the sagacity of Lieut.-Gen. Nelson A. Miles, who is present to direct the taking of the pictures.

Yesterday afternoon General Miles, with Theodore Wharton, stage manager of the great production, went over the ground of the final surrender on the battlefield of the missions and other places which figured in the ending of the wars, that every detail might be freshly covered and easy of access in the taking of the pictures. All day yesterday, too, the generals who have gathered here — Major-General Lee, Brigadier-General King, Brigadier-General Maus and Brigadier-General Baldwin — talked of the events which came at the ending of the wars, and discussed with the director the details so that everything might be historically correct.

The taking of the pictures here will occupy ten days or two weeks. Every feature in the surrender of the Sioux, the delivering of hostages and the signing of the treaty for eternal peace will be reproduced exactly as it happened twenty-three years ago.


More than twenty years ago, just when the sun was setting, there journeyed forth from Pine Ridge four men on horseback. Silently they rode along to the ridge of a great hill. Then, dismounting, they stood and looked into the valley until the shades of dusk warned them of [photo] The Hotchkiss gun, known to Indians as the gun which shoots today and kills tomorrow. It was this type of gun which won peace from the Indians. the need for the lights and fellowship of the agency.

And it was not to look upon the landscape that they climbed the great hill, nor was it to admire the winding shimmer of White Clay creek, curving its way among the hills below. They went there upon a purpose of war — to look upon the enemy below and to wonder where and when it all would end, whether these men in the valley would submit to civilization or follow the wild dictates [photo] Colonel Cody on his first visit to camp meets Old Flat Iron, an Indian scout. of a religious frenzy which taught them the doctrine of driving the white man out of the West forever.

Today you call these four Lieut.-Gen. Nelson A. Miles, Brig.-Gen. Frank D. Baldwin, Brig.-Gen. Marion P. Maus and Col. William F. Cody.

But in those days General Baldwin and General Maus were lower in station than they are today. Colonel Cody was Buffalo Bill, chief of scouts, and General Miles carried upon his shoulders the weight of the great Indian problems of the West.


And that is why they journeyed to the top of the hill at sunset. Below them, stretching away in the horizon, showed tepee after tepee of hostile Indians. Now and then would come the sound of the tom-tom and demonstrations that might mean in the end an attack on the agency and the death of hundreds. Those were the days when all was turmoil, when the preachings and the incantations of the messiah at Pyramid Lake had given forth the order that the white man must disappear and the West be turned into the hunting grounds of the Indians. Those were the days of worry and of warfare and of bloodshed. And in those days, at sunset, four men would ride to the top of the hill to reconnoiter.

Many things have happened since then. The two men who served on the staff of General Miles then have become generals themselves in lower station.

The colonel has seen many a part of the world. Wars have intervened. The domain of the United States has spread out into the ocean. Vicissitudes, happiness and sorrows, have come to all of them. The years have piled up — up — up, bringing with them a succession of events which would seem to preclude their ever coming together again. Twenty years and more is a long time —


And yet, the other evening at sunset, four men journeyed forth from Pine Ridge toward the top of a great hill nearby. Their hair was white, the mode of travel was an automobile instead of the horses of the past. And when they reached the top of the hill, only a pretty valley, where a stream curved complacently between the trees showed beneath them. The warpaint and bedaubed tepees of the hostiles were gone. Far below, on the other side, stood forth the Indian agency in the dying sunlight, the flag fluttering from the staff, a few Indians in modern dress lounging about the doorway. The warlike days were over — over for everyone except those four men who stood atop the hill, looking into the valley.

For to them the years had rolled away. The vacant valley once again was ablaze with the fires of the Indian camps. Once again there was the activity, the barking of dogs, the shouts of children as they ran here and there. Once again shone the painted forms of Indians as they strode about the place, the circles of the councils as the chiefs gathered for conferences. Once again came the beating of the tom-toms — the indications of hostility. They stood and watched, silently.


From far behind, in the little Dakota town, there sounded the clanging of an evening church bell, from the tower of the little edifice of worship where stood Army's store in the days of battle, calling them back to the present, reminding them that days had changed, that the years had brought transformation, that the crack of the rifle and the war cry of the Indian was gone forever. Lieutenant General Miles turned and looked about him.

"It was just about here that Capron's battery stood, wasn't it?" he asked.

"Just about," came the answer of General Baldwin.

"A good battery, a mighty effective bunch of artillery," came in reminiscent tones from Buffalo Bill.

"A very good battery," echoed General Miles.

And with the honking of the motor car they turned again toward town.


Gen. Baldwin Looks Over the Battlefield.