 Frontier Fighters. Frontier Fighters. The daring and courage of a handful of brave pioneers who made the West safe for the generation of today. In 1890, two years after South Dakota was admitted into the Union, an event loomed on the horizon that threatened to completely stop migration into the state. A Paiute Indian with the name of Wavocha had been raised in the home of a white man who was very religious. One night, Wavocha had a wonderful dream. The next morning he related it to another Paiute. He stood in the presence of God, tall chief, and God said to me, Go teach the Indians in all the lands the better ways of living. Tell them to be more peaceful, to live without stealing, or lying, or murdering. Tell them to dance away their sins. Dance away their sins, Wavocha? Yes. So it has been told me in the dream. Is it to be the raindance, or corn dance, or buffalo dance? No. God said to Wavocha, Go into all the lands and teach the red man the ghost dance. In Wavocha's dream, there was a mixture of old Indian customs and the new religious ideas of Christianity. Everywhere this new teacher went, he was welcomed. Soon the teaching spread, and each tribe changed them just a little, until Wavocha could hardly recognize them at the time they reached South Dakota. One of the disgruntled chiefs of the South Dakota Indians was Shortbowl. For years he had been looking for something that would appeal to the Indians, so he could lead them in a general uprising against the whites. He recognized the teachings of Wavocha as the way. Returning to the Pine Ridge Agency, he immediately set himself up as a messiah. He would not teach the ways of peace, but war. His message would be death to the whites. Have not the agents on the reservations worked bad medicine against the red man? Has he not placed around our necks a yoke? Has he not brought the Indian of his birthright and heritage, taken his lands, stolen his food, lied to him and deceived and tricked him? If you would throw off the white man's yoke, follow me. I will teach you the ritual of the ghost dance. I will place upon each one of you a magical holy shirt. I will teach you the sacred chant of this new religion. And then, when each of you has become a messiah, all who try to harm you will fall dead in their tracks. When we have learned the ghost dance and wear the holy shirt, we will move out the cursed reservations. And once again, hunt the buffalo in a bad land. And every pale face who lifts his hand against the red man must die! The message of the ghost dance spread all over the Dakotas. Before many weeks had passed, over 3,000 Indians had secretly left the reservations. The bloodthirsty braves, fired with the messiah craze, began lying in wait for the immigrant trains. Jed, I've got the strangest feeling. If we weren't so close to the Black Hills, I'd say turn back. Now, that's just a woman's foolish fears. If you females ain't a-fretting about one thing, it's another. Jed, what's that a-coming? All fair to ease? More folks heading for South Dakota. What's they doing off the trail? Oh, I don't know. Indians! Get the wagons in the car, girls! I told you I had a feeling! The ghost screaming, we're all well armed and there's 50 of us. We'll be more than a match for them. There's hundreds of red gins are coming. Look at these cliffs! All of them got rifles! Must be an Indian uprising! We'll be massacring all of us! Get the women and children under the wagon! Get them in the wagon and let them make a room for us. There's 500 of those red gins are coming first! Outgrades followed outgrades. By threats, intimidation and massacre, the red men stopped the flow of immigration into South Dakota. The situation took a sudden turn from serious to critical, with the news that... Mr. Governor, Sitting Bull has just joined forces with Short Bull. Bigfoot is being implored to take up the Tommy Hawk. In another month, every Indian in the Dakotas will be on the warpath. Well, Mr. Ikerbunch, this Messiah crazy has gotten out of hand. There's only one man who has ever put the fear of God into these redskins, General Nelson A. Miles, and I'm going to ask the government of Washington to send him to South Dakota. MUSIC All the troops in Redness, Sergeant. Quickly after my conference with the governor, we take up the march. Yes, sir. The governor expects you, General Miles. You're very welcome, sir. Thank you. General Miles, Governor. Come in. Your excellency. General Miles, I don't believe I have to apprise you of this critical situation. Unless we can get these Indians back on their reservations, this state has no future. We look to the migration of farmers, minors and cattlemen to build up our population. But the overland routes must be kept open. I believe I know the temper of the red men. Let me have one decisive battle, and their leaders will be ready for a powwow. And I leave the entire affair in your hands. But one thing is certain, this Messiah outbreak, this maniacal uprising must be put down. I give you my word, it shall. And, Mr. Governor, South Dakota has a future. Scouts assure us that the chiefs, Yellowbird and Bigfoot, are leading their braves and moving against them. The race we're both traveling in, we should meet at Wounded Knee Creek. Sitting Bull is not just taking up the march. Good. Take a detachment of 50 men. Get to Pine Ridge Reservation and arrest him and his leaders. Yes, sir. If your information is correct, the poor son down tomorrow there should be a pitched battle at Wounded Knee Creek. Don't see hide in your hair are the redskins yet, General Miles? Yeah, they'll be here. Do you suppose they believe all this poppycock about the holy shirt protecting them from bullets? Major, my experience has taught me that an Indian believes in good medicine or bad medicine. The Indian's medicine is all-powerful for good. The white man's for evil. A bull is no respecter of shirts, sir. Well, I hope we get the leaders in the first few minutes of fighting. I don't want to exterminate the Indian. I just want to get them back to the reservations and bring peace to South Dakota. Hey, who's that coming there? One of the Scouts, sir. Well, it's thousand Indians and the Yellowbird and Bigfoot approaching Wounded Knee Creek. Well, they armed with rifles. About one-third are, sir. They're members with bow and arrows and Tommyhawks. A few have carbines. Very good. Give the order to attack. We'll cross Wounded Knee Creek first and take the fight into their ranks. Yes, sir. Ready for attack! Ready for attack! All your firemen, until we cross the creek, signal to fire with me when I take my sword out of it and stab it and point it straight at the enemy. Stay close to them, General. They'll have our ranks in another two or three hundred yards. The order to stop firing. General, you've got a thousand redskins right in the palm of your hand. I've not come to South Dakota to destroy the red men, safeguard and preserve them, save them from themselves. You must never forget, Major, that while these Indians may be troublesome at times, they are wars of the government, children of the great white father in Washington. A writer to see you, General Miles. What is it, Corporal? General, I just come back from Grand River. Sitting Bull is dead. Who killed him? The soldiers you sent to arrest him were fired upon by Sitting Bull's followers. In the fight that followed, Sitting Bull was killed. That's too bad. It makes it all the harder for the government forces when we set down the powwows. The Indians will think I sent the soldiers to kill the great chief. That's all I have to report, sir. Very good. Yes, sir. Well, powwow we must have. Sergeant, sir, send Indian scouts under a flag of truth to all the redskins in the Badlands. Tell them that General Miles wants to set down with them and spoke the pipe of peace. In the name of the great white father in Washington, I say go back to the reservations. Go back to your agency, hoax. I give my word, which has never been broken with my Indian brothers, that you will have good food, kind treatment, and forever live in peace and plenty. This is my word. I have spoken. Sitting Bull is with his fathers in the happy hunting grounds. Bigfoot, he is there too. Yellowbird has joined him. The chiefs are dead. The holy shirt was bad medicine. From rising sun to rising sun, through all the years to come, we will be at peace with our white brothers. This is my word. It shall never be broken. Ended the last armed Indian trouble in the state of South Dakota. The Messiah craze had burned itself out, and prosperity returned to the Badlands thanks to the courage and daring of another great frontier fighter, General Nelson Appleton Miles.