American Horse, the Elder, Tells His Story to Taking on the U.S. Government in War to Protect...

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My name is American Horse, and I was a war leader of the Oglala Lakota. My life was dedicated to protecting my people, our lands, and our way of life from those who sought to take them from us. I stood alongside great warriors like Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull, and though my life was cut short, I fought with honor until the very end. Let me tell you my story.

I was born around 1830, at a time when my people lived freely on the Great Plains. We followed the buffalo, moved with the seasons, and lived in harmony with the land. My father, Smoke, was a respected Oglala Lakota chief, and he taught me the ways of our ancestors—the skills of hunting, riding, and, when necessary, fighting to defend our people.

As I grew older, the world around us began to change. The United States government made treaties with our people, promising to respect our lands, but they did not keep their word. More soldiers came, more settlers pushed west, and our way of life was threatened. I knew that we could not simply stand by and watch as everything we knew was taken from us.

I became a war leader, standing alongside Crazy Horse and other Lakota warriors in battle. In 1866, we fought in Red Cloud’s War, a successful campaign to drive U.S. soldiers out of our lands. We won that fight, and the government signed the Treaty of Fort Laramie in 1868, agreeing that the Black Hills belonged to us. But just a few years later, gold was discovered in the Black Hills, and the U.S. government broke its promise. Soldiers returned, and war came again.

In 1876, the Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho came together to resist the U.S. Army’s efforts to force us onto reservations. On June 25, we won a great victory at the Battle of the Little Bighorn, where we defeated General Custer and his men. It was a moment of triumph, but we knew that the U.S. Army would not stop coming.

Just a few months later, on September 9, 1876, I fought my final battle. It happened at Slim Buttes, where a U.S. Army force led by General Crook attacked a Lakota village. My warriors and I fought fiercely, trying to protect our people, but we were outnumbered. I was shot multiple times but refused to surrender. Even as I lay wounded, I continued to fight. The soldiers finally captured me, but I did not beg for mercy. I died a warrior, standing for my people.

Though my life ended that day, my people did not vanish. They endured. The Lakota still exist, our culture still lives, and our history is still told. If there is one thing I want you to remember, it is this: our way of life was not lost without a fight. We stood together, we resisted, and we left our mark on history. I was proud to be a warrior of the Lakota, and I hope my story is never forgotten. Thank you for listening.

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