The Red Cloud Agency was an Indian agency for the Oglala Lakota as well as the Northern Cheyenne and Arapaho, from 1871 to 1878. It was located at three different sites in Wyoming Territory (present-day Nebraska), before being moved to South Dakota. It was then renamed the Pine Ridge Reservation.
Other articles related to "red cloud agency, red cloud, clouds, agency":
... Crazy Horse and other northern Oglala leaders arrived at the Red Cloud Agency, located near Fort Robinson, Nebraska, on May 5, 1877 ... four months, Crazy Horse resided in his village near the Red Cloud Agency ... The attention that Crazy Horse received from the Army drew the jealousy of Red Cloud and Spotted Tail, two Lakota who had long before come to the agencies and ...
... Cloud nine or on cloud nine is an idiom referring to a state of elation or happiness ... It may also refer to ...
... any planet or moon with an atmosphere also has clouds ... Venus's thick clouds are composed of sulfur dioxide ... Mars has high, thin clouds of water ice ...
... The Stanton Expedition next traveled to Camp Robinson and the Red Cloud Agency, arriving on September 30 just over three weeks after the famed Oglala war leader Crazy Horse had ... have also made a quick trip to nearby Camp Sheridan and the Spotted Tail Agency. 25, the same day that the Oglala left the Red Cloud Agency for their new home on the Missouri River, escorted by two companies of the Third Cavalry ...
Famous quotes containing the words agency, red and/or cloud:
“It is possible that the telephone has been responsible for more business inefficiency than any other agency except laudanum.... In the old days when you wanted to get in touch with a man you wrote a note, sprinkled it with sand, and gave it to a man on horseback. It probably was delivered within half an hour, depending on how big a lunch the horse had had. But in these busy days of rush-rush-rush, it is sometimes a week before you can catch your man on the telephone.”
—Robert Benchley (18891945)
“For which he wex a litel red for shame,
Whan he the peple upon him herde cryen,
That to beholde it was a noble game,
How sobreliche he caste doun his yen.
Criseyda gan al his chere aspyen,
And let so softe it in her herte sinke
That to herself she seyde, Who yaf me drinke?”
—Geoffrey Chaucer (13401400)
“Follow your saint, follow with accents sweet;
Haste you, sad notes, fall at her flying feet.
There, wrapped in cloud of sorrow, pity move,
And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love.”
—Thomas Campion (15671620)