days without food. He could ride like the wind, or crawl in the grass,
and knew how to strike, quickly and unexpectedly, as the first streak
of dawn came into the East. Like Napoleon, he knew the value of time,
and, in fact, he had somewhat of the dash and daring, not to mention
the vanity, of the Corsican. His men believed in him and loved him,
for he marched them to victory, and with odds of five to one had won
again and again.

-------------------------------------

But Custer had the defect of his qualities; and to use the Lincoln
phrase, sometimes took counsel of his ambition.

He had fought in the Civil War in places where no prisoners were
taken, and where there was no commissary. And this wild, free life had
bred in him a habit of unrest—a chafing at discipline and all rules of
modern warfare.

Results were the only things he cared for, and power was his Deity.

When the Indians grew restless in the Spring of Seventy-six, Custer
was called to Washington for consultation. President Grant was not
satisfied with our Indian policy—he thought that in some ways the
Whites were the real savages. The Indians he considered as children,
not as criminals.

Custer tried to tell him differently. Custer knew the bloodthirsty
character of the Sioux, their treachery and cunning—he showed scars by
way of proof!