In the Footsteps of Crazy Horse Read Online Free PDF

out by a white man named John Bozeman. So it was called the Bozeman Trail. He marked it out back in 1860 to show the way to gold fields in Montana. Soon other whites came along and usedit. Problem was, it went right through Lakota territory.”
    â€œOur people didn’t like that?” Jimmy ventured.
    â€œNo, they sure didn’t. And there were even older trails here before Bozeman. One was called the Powder River Road. It was used by our people.”
    He lifted a finger and pointed without taking his hands from the steering wheel. “See those mountains over there to the left?” he said. “Those are called the Bighorn Mountains now. Our people called them the Shining Mountains.”
    It was hard not to notice those mountains. They filled the entire western skyline.
    â€œWhy?” Jimmy asked.
    â€œBecause the snow on the peaks shines in the sunlight,” explained his grandfather.
    They turned off Interstate 25 at a sign that said KAYCEE , drove past a convenience store, and eventually turned onto a dirt road. Kaycee was a small town, even smaller than Cold River. They drove through it in less than five minutes. A few miles farther on they came to gullies and low spots.
    Jimmy noticed that the grass was sparse here and theland looked like a desert, no longer like the grass prairies to the east. His grandpa pulled to a stop, and they stepped out of the truck. Everything felt different as well. Perhaps it was the jagged mountains to the west.
    â€œThere was an army post here,” his grandpa said, waving his arm in an arc. “It was called Fort Reno.”
    â€œWas Crazy Horse here, too?”
    â€œHe sure was. But there was another fort to the north. That’s where the interesting things happened,” said the old man.
    â€œThen why did we stop here?” Jimmy asked.
    â€œSo you can see what he saw. Smell the sagebrush and feel the same sand under your feet.”
    They walked a ways into the desert. In the distance a small whirlwind swirled behind a rise, raising dust. Jimmy imagined it was a group of Lakota warriors on horseback galloping their horses.
    After a few minutes they walked back to the pickup. Shortly after that they were back on Interstate 25, going north. Just over an hour later they saw a large brown-and-white sign: FORT PHIL KEARNY STATE HISTORIC SITE . Theyexited, then drove through an underpass and onto a narrow two-lane road. It took them to a turn-off to a gravel road.
    As they approached the historic site, Jimmy saw a wall made of upright logs. It was not that high. Off to the right was the Interpretive Center, according to a sign.
    â€œWhat happened here?” Jimmy asked. He already suspected that Crazy Horse had been here. Otherwise they would not be stopping.
    â€œThis is where young Crazy Horse became a war leader,” Grandpa replied as he parked the truck. “He was only in his twenties, unusual for a war leader. It’s one of the reasons Crazy Horse is considered so exceptional.”
    Inside the building were dioramas—three-dimensional displays of the fort’s history. They showed soldiers and Lakota and Northern Cheyenne. A man in a tan uniform approached them.
    â€œWelcome to Fort Phil Kearny,” he said. “I can try to answer any questions you might have.”
    â€œThank you,” said Grandpa Nyles. “We’re Lakota from the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota. I’m taking my grandson on a tour of Crazy Horse sites.”
    â€œAh, I see,” the man replied. “Then you probably know more about Crazy Horse than I do. But let me know if I can help in any way.”
    A half hour later they drove away from the Interpretive Center. On the access highway they turned north and parked at the top of a hill. There the highway ended. Nearby was a tall, upright monument made of stones.
    â€œThat’s about where the battle came to an end,” said Grandpa Nyles.
    â€œA battle? What