 With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the mask rider of the planes led the fight for law and order in the early western United States. Nowhere in the pages of history can one find a greater champion of justice. Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. From out of the past in the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse, Silver, the lone ranger rides again. It was just past sundown of a crisp fall day in 1890 when a United States soldier stationed at the Darlington agency in their wounded knee reservation in South Dakota knocked on the door of his commanding officer's quarters. I'm in. Lieutenant Wheeler, sir. At ease, Corporal. Thank you, sir. What's the trouble? Oh, no trouble, Lieutenant. And maybe I'm making a lot out of nothing, but I can't help worrying. About what? I just came by the reservation. They've started that ghost dance again. It's been going on every night for the past month. Ghost dance? Yes, sir. If you listen to it a while, it kind of gets under your skin. I can't help thinking maybe that, wait, you can hear it from here. Do you mind if I open the door, sir? Not at all, Corporal. Hear it? I'm surprised at you, Corporal. You've seen enough service here in the west around Indians not to get excited about an ordinary medicine dance. That's what I mean. This isn't an ordinary shindig. All the braves are wearing long, white robes. They'll keep dancing till sunrise, then start again tomorrow night. Probably some part of a native religious ceremony. Yeah, but listen to the rhythm of those drums. I've never heard it sound like that before. Like a fever that keeps on growing and growing and growing. Corporal, you need a good night's sleep. Maybe. I'm sorry, sir, if I've disturbed you by talking this way. That's all right. I can assure you there's no need to be alarmed about the Indians. As you know, Army regulations specifically state that we're not to interfere in any way with their religious ceremonies. I know, but this ghost dance is different. I was talking to one of the braves today. And what did he say? He claims they're dancing because at the finish of it, the great ghost is coming down and set all the Indians free. Corporal, you amaze me. A grown man and a soldier believing myths. Oh, I don't believe that part about the great ghost. But like you say, sir, I have been around Indians for a good many years. And I never heard drums sound like this. Forget it. It's nothing for us to worry about. Good night, Corporal. Good night, sir. But Lieutenant Wheeler was wrong. The ghost dance on the Sioux Reservation in South Dakota had been in the making many weeks. It had its inception in the office of a wholesale commission firm in St. Louis, Missouri. Morning, Dick. Hello, Brent. How's Doc Hans get the riverboat loaded? Loaded and ready to shove off. Here. Want to sign the bill of lading? Here. Hmm. Let's see. Four thousand pounds of flour. That for the Darlington Agency? Yeah. The boys packed all the barrels as usual. Half flour, half sand. Good. And I made a goodbye on that carload of bacon that's going north this trip. The packing plant threw it out for spoilage. But those redskins will never know the difference. No. Say, did a shipment of dry goods reach the warehouse yet? I'm expecting it in from New York. Dry goods? Yeah. Ten thousand yards of white muslin. Dick, are you gone local? We've got government contracts to supply Indian agencies with food, but not... Don't worry. I know what I'm doing. What ten thousand yards? Sooner's walking wolf comes downriver for a plover. Walking wolf? There's an Indian waiting outside to see you now. Tall, kind of squint-eyed? Yeah. Well, that's him. Tell my ancient friend to come in. Ain't he the one who's... Never mind who he is. Send him in. We're partners in this business, Steak. I got a right to know... Sure, sure, we're partners. But I do the thinking and I make the deals. I tell walking wolf to come in. All right, Dick. Right in here, Indian, Dick will talk to you now. Well, sit down, walking wolf. Take a load off your feet. Stand. Suit yourself. Well, I think we're just about set now. I ordered the muslin for the robes and as soon as it's delivered, I'll have them made up. And you can start on a tour of all the reservations in the west. Talk to all the medicine men. Make them believe it's a real thing. When the blow-off comes, you'll get your share just like I promised. Maybe plan not so easy. What do you mean? Every Indian in the country is mad about the food he's getting from the government. They'll listen to anything. Every week, me make plenty talk. A rapaho reservation. They don't believe. They say this, fixin'. What's that? Just a piece of paper? You look. See picture on the other side. That sign of buffalo head. Sure, I see. Piece of paper with a head of a buffalo on it. Now, what's it mean? Many Indian, some big chiefs, have same sign on arm. What of it? Long time now. I find plenty big medicine. Red man, trust him. Ah, what a weak head. That won't interfere with us. Maybe not Cheyenne, Comanche, Kiowa, Paiute, Navajo, but Sue. Won't Papa Sue always listen to council of sitting bull? Why, sitting bull isn't even in the country. He's up in Canada some place. So don't you worry about him. After what he and crazy horse did to Custer at the little bighorn, he'll never come back to this country. But sitting bull have buffalo sign like this. Maybe bad medicine for us. Welcome, Wolf. I tell you, we haven't nothing to worry about. Now, you stay around St. Louis for a few days. As soon as those robes are ready, you can start being an evangelist. And so began the mysterious ghost dance. Within a few weeks on every Indian reservation in the west, from wounded knee in the black hills of South Dakota, to the arid plains of San Carlos and Arizona territory, red-skinned braves wearing long white muslin robes danced in an ever-increasing frenzy. The lone ranger in Tonto noticed what was happening as they rode northward towards Cheyenne. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. This ghost-dancing Tonto. But on every reservation we have passed since we left Yankton, South Dakota, two weeks ago. There's something wrong. Ah. They talk with punny brave. Him say all Indian dance till great ghosts come from sky. Red men feel plenty sad. Buffalo all gone from plain. White men make them stay on reservation, giving them bad food. Well, I know that, Tonto. Not the government's fault. Must be crooked contractors who supply the agencies. Ah. But that's hard to prove because I... What matter? I was just thinking, suppliers for the Sioux reservations in Dakota are probably freighted by wagons through Cheyenne. Ah. Well, we'll keep our eyes open when we get there. Come on, silver. Get him up the scalp. Go clear out to Cheyenne, T. It's almost Christmas and I was figuring on spending... There's no other way to reach that dumb red-skinned walking wolf. There's no use in writing letters to an embryo who can't read. But I was going to spend it with them. Ah, stop your beefing. We don't put this deal over. There won't be any Santa Claus for either of us. Now, get on that boat. You can take the steam train West Monroe. Oh, all right. Remember, the date for the blow-off is the 29th of this month. I'll be sure that our last load of supplies is freighted out of Cheyenne before that time. You understand? Yeah. All right. Get going. Who shall go to the whole city, big fella? Leave our horses here at the edge of town, fellow. Ah. I don't think we'll be noticed at this time of night if we keep off Main Street. Ah. First thing I want to do is find the wagon yard of the freight depot. See if there are any loads headed north. All right. Come on. Hey, boy, keep... Give us another drink. Two more. Sorry, mister. I can serve you, but I can't sell any more liquor to the Indian. Never should have sold the first one. Ah, what do you mean? This noble red man's walking wolf, my friend. And I am print clerk at Thompson and clerk St. Louis, Missouri. Don't care who you are. I'm not selling any more liquor to the Indian. Ah. That's an insult, walking wolf. You won't give us a drink here. I know where we can find one. Drivers in our freight wagons always have a bottle stashed away under the safe. Ah. Come on, let's go. Well, these wagons must belong to the same train, Tonneau. Ah. They're loaded and ready to pull out first thing in the morning. I'd like to see what's underneath the canvas. Let's climb up on top. Ah. Pick it up there. Break loose the lishing on that side. Ah. We can... Ah. There. Hmm. Plenty of boxes and barrels. Got a match, Tonneau. Ah. Ah. Here. The shipping labels say, Darlington Indian Agency, South Dakota, flower, bacon. Everything seems all right unless... This is the heaviest barrel of flower I've ever lifted. Team of somebody. Somebody come. Cut the light. I'll keep this barrel balanced on the edge of the wagon. Work quiet. They may not see us. Why are you worrying about a certain bull for? Dick told you how to keep the old buzzard quiet. He made the sous-chif named Yellowbird. He must have maybe sent young Braves to Chippewa camp in North. Maybe talk with sitting bull. Tell them more reason why you ought to do what Dick told you to. Ah. Walking wolf do. Ah. Now, this as soon as I wrestle a bottle in one of these wagons, we'll have a... Hey, the canvases are for this one. Somebody on top. You got your gun walking hold of her? Ah. I'll keep it handy until I find out whether this... Hey, anybody up there? I'm going to let this barrel fall, Tonto. Just to jump off the other side. Ah. Okay, there's somebody there all right. Maybe a little lettuce. Watch out, walking wolf. That barrel's... Look, you see a master? I'll lose your dirty feet. There's no other way, Tonto. We'll have to shoot it out. The lone ranger and Tonto are facing the guns of Print Clark and Walking Wolf. Can they shoot their way out? We'll continue our story in just a moment to continue our story. Discovered while they're examining a loaded freight wagon, the lone ranger and Tonto were forced to shoot in self-defense. Down down here. Over the side, Tonto. Oh, wait, cover me. I'm going this way. He must be you. I've got what I want. Come on, let's run for it. Ah. Hey, get this sheriff. Send him over here right away. I'm the sheriff. What's the problem? Well, a couple of thieves tried to break into one of my freight wagons. Steal everything? I don't know. I haven't checked over the loaves. The thieves won't be hard to trail. Say, what's this white stuff all over the ground? That's a barrel of flour. They threw it off the wagon. A barrel? It's a funny kind of flour. Looks more like sand to me. Well, maybe it is sand. We freight a lot of stuff for private shippers. My partner in St. Louis makes out all the bills of lading. I don't know much about it. I still can't figure why anybody would want to ship a barrel of sand out to this country. Aren't you going to trail those thieves? One of them was a tall ombre. He was wearing a mask. And I think there was an Indian with him. Sure, old trailing, as soon as you figure out what this does. Well, I'll let you know later. First thing I got to do is send a telegram and get my partner to come out here. Where's the telegraph office here in Cheyenne? Now at the railroad station. Thanks. Come on, walkin', Wolf. Sand and flour. That don't make sense. The name on that freight wagon was Thompson and Clark, wasn't it, Tutto? My freight. It may have nothing to do with the ghost ends. I think my friend Colonel Forsythe will be interested in this handful of sand I scooped up. Sand is being shipped to the Indians in a barrel-labeled flour. Come on, Silver! Get up, Scout! It was three days later. The Lone Ranger and Tutto were camped near Fort Gates, waiting to see Colonel Forsythe at the 7th Cavalry, who was out on maneuvers. Meanwhile, far to the northward, sitting full, exiled chief to the mightiest Sioux nation, talked with the warrior walking Wolf in a small Chippewa Indian reservation. I fought when there was fighting to be done. That day has passed. It passed with the battle of the Little Bighorn. Age has weakened you, Sitting Bull. It has brought me wisdom. But not enough to lend your support to the ghost dance? No. And I warn you, if it comes to pass, it will cause many deaths among my people. Why do you say this? Because I have heard many things, Walking Wolf. I have heard it was you who proposed the ghost dance. But I know the robes for it were supplied by white men. How could you...? I didn't even know the names of those men and the dishonest business by which they cheat their own brothers, bringing discontent among my people. But I... What you've heard is not true. Perhaps. My journey has been useless. I bid you farewell, Sitting Bull. Farewell. I will return to the Sioux and say... That gun doesn't frighten me, Walking Wolf. Put it away. I wanted to make sure you didn't... A gun barrel against his head makes the Great Sitting Bull fall like a woman. And the white man's army will pay big bounty for his return to American soil. I came to see you for a special reason, Colonel Forsythe. Good. What is it? This. A handful of desert sand? Where'd you pick it up? A barrel that was labeled flower, part of a large shipment headed for the Sioux Reservation at Wounded Knee. Special dispatch, Colonel. It just came in. Oh, thank you, Sergeant. Excuse me. Say, here's a bit of good news. Oh, is that so? Lieutenant Wheeler at the Darlington Agency reports that he has Sitting Bull in custody. Sitting Bull? He was brought in by a Sioux Indian who received the bounty money. Isn't that good news? No, not in my opinion, Colonel. Sitting Bull is one of the wisest Indians alive today. The government should have used his influence with these people instead of exiling him to Canada. Maybe you're right. Colonel, do you mind if I follow through my suspicions about the ghost dance? Why, not at all. In fact, I'd appreciate your help. Good. And if you find anything definite, let me know. I will. Adios, Colonel. It was much later in the day when the lone ranger and tanto pulled their horses to a halt not far from Wounded Knee. Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho. As long as it's daylight, tanto, we can wait here in this grove of trees until dusk. What's wrong? You see three fellow walk a trail this way? Yes, I do. One fellow own wagon we see in Cheyenne. That's same Sue Indian with them. You're right, fellow. We're heading right for this spot. Bring the horses. Let's get out of sight. Ah, come quickly. Come scout. You think Yellowbird will do it? Ah, him plenty mad. When? Yellowbird say one son. You mean tomorrow? Ah. Say, Jake, you and me don't want to be here if there's going to be any fighting. Ah, there won't be any fight to it. When 3,000 Indians open up on Lieutenant Wheeler's tin soldiers, it'll be over before it starts. Yeah, but we don't want to... When it spreads down south, things will be different. Maybe the army can take care of that. But our worries will be over and no chance of any kickback. Did you get the balance of the money on our contract? Got it right here in my pocket. Now, come on. I want to get back and fix the bed in one of the wagons for a sundown. That proves we were right, fellow. There isn't much time to reach Fort Yates. Come on, Silver. This is a serious situation. I don't have enough men here at the Fort to handle it. How many, Colonel? Well, less than a hundred. Most of them are scouts, not regular cavalry. I don't... Doesn't your equipment include several of the new Hotchkiss guns? You mean that rapid-firing artillery piece? Yes. Otto and I will help pack two of those guns. We'll have them set up for your men when they get there. Maybe we can do it with 50 men. At least we can try. Good. He was just before noon on the following day, December 29, 1890. To all outward appearances, the little Sioux village of Wounded Knee was as sleepy as usual. Then, at a silent signal from their chief, hundreds of Sioux warriors left their teepees and gathered in a huge circle. This is it. The Sioux are going to ride to war. Hey, that must be Wheeler's men. They won't have a chance. Here, what's that? Guns that chatter fast like bark of fox. Hey, can't see any soldiers. But look what those cannon are doing to the Indians. They're on all sides of us. We're right in the middle. White man's fast gun, bad medicine. Walking won't go. No, don't leave us here then. Hey, Britain, me can't get through these Indians without you. Me? Think what do we do? Won't last long, Otto. What chance have ordinary rifles against a gun that fires 50 shots a minute? Ah, me think. Kimusabe. What is it, Toto? Look, see two white fellas by big wagon. Deep Thompson and Clint Clark. That'll itself is between the Sioux and the Army. But those two renegades are armed in this... Come on, Silver. Come on, discount. They're trying to hide in the wagon. You take that side, Toto. Hey, look, now, Toto. Take it to sleep. Who's Silver? Who? Who's got no power? I'm out of that wagon. Hey, you can't grab it. That's what you want. We'll give it to you. Stop yelling. You don't deserve it because you've been created for a long time. I'm going to turn you over to the Army. No matter what penalty you pay, it won't be enough. Now, put your hands in the air. Start walking. A few minutes later, Deep Thompson and Clint Clark were in the hands of military police. Then the Lone Ranger and Toto mounted their horses again. Ready, Silver? Easy, Silver. Easy, Silver. The battle's just about over, Toto. I think that we... Wait a minute. What matter? I just remembered. In the fourth size, said sitting bull had been captured. I thought that was a good idea. In the fourth size, said sitting bull had been captured. He's probably in a guard house near Wheeler's headquarters. There in a gate, Sue, who brought him in for bounty, knows that he'll... Come on, Silver. Get him out of the scoundrel. Oh, who's going to be fooled? Who's going to be fooled? I think this is the guard house, Toto. Come on. He's been shot. We've got to... Who did it, sitting bull? Just a short time ago. Walking wolf. Walking wolf? Who's he? Indian friend of white man. I thought so. Toto. The Indian we saw with Dick Thompson yesterday. The whole camp is surrounded. He can't get away. See if you can pick up his trail. Me catch it. Here. That's your head on my coat, sitting bull. I heard the shots. Many foolish Sue are dead. I'm afraid so. I warned them. No one would listen. Yes, I know. You've been misunderstood by your people as well as my people, sitting bull. I know you to be a great leader. They too will realize that someday. They go now to have a hunting round. But first, look. See sign on, sitting bull's arm. Yes, I see it. It is the secret sign of the buffalo head. Sign of buffalo head. It means peace. Always peace between white man and red man. You tell young men of Indians, young men of your people about sign of buffalo head. I promise, sitting bull. Where they see sign of buffalo head, they find good friend. Someday there be peace. I go now. A short time later at Colonel Forsythe's headquarters. How'd you know it was going to happen, Colonel? I was warned by a man who has proved himself many times to be the army's best friend. You mean the Indian who brought in the man that killed sitting bull? No, he helped. But he isn't the man, I mean. Oh, if I'd only listened three days ago, clamped down on those two white renegades, the tragedy of wounded knee would never have taken place. Well, maybe so. I think our Indian trouble is almost over, Colonel. And so do I. Thanks to the Lone Ranger. The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.