 Chapter 4 of My Life on the Plains. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Cautiously approaching on all fours to within a few yards of the nearest lodge, occasionally halting and listening to discover evidence as to whether the village was deserted or not, we finally decided that the Indians had fled before the arrival of the cavalry, and that none of the empty lodges were before us. This conclusion somewhat emboldened as well as accelerated our progress. Arriving at the first lodge, one of our party raised a curtain, or mat which served as a door, and the doctor and myself entered. The interior of the lodge was dimly lighted by the decaying embers of a small fire built in the center. All around us were to be seen the unusual adornments and articles which constitute the household effects of an Indian family. Buffalo robes were spread like carpets over the floor. Head mats used to recline a pond were arranged as if for the comfort of their owners. Parfletches, sort of Indian box with their contents apparently undisturbed, were to be found carefully stowed away under the edges or borders of the lodge. There, with the door mats, paint bags and rawhide ropes and other articles of Indian equipment, were left as if the owners had only absented themselves for a brief period. To complete the picture of an Indian lodge over the fire hung a camp kettle, in which by means of a dim light of the fire we could see what had been intended for the supper of the late occupants of the lodge. The doctor, ever on the alert to discover additional items of knowledge whether pertaining to history or science, snuffed the savory odors which arose from the dark recesses of the mysterious kettle. Casting about the lodge for some instrument to aid him in his pursuit of knowledge, he found a horn spoon, with which he began his investigation of the contents finally succeeding in getting possession of a fragment, which might have been the half of a duck or rabbit, judging merely from its size. Ah! said the doctor, in his most complacent manner, here is the opportunity I have long been waiting for. I have often desired to test and taste of the Indian mode of cooking. What do you suppose this is, holding up the dripping morsel? Unable to obtain the desired information, a doctor whose naturally good appetite had been sensibly sharpened by his recent exercise of ladro crupe, set to with a will and ate heartily at the mysterious contents of the kettle. What can this be? again inquired the doctor. He was only satisfied, on one point, that it was delicious, of dish-fit for a king. Just then, courier, the half-breed entered the lodge. He could solve the mystery, having spent years among the Indians. To him the doctor appealed for information. Fishing out a huge piece and attacking it with the veracity of a hungry wolf, he was not long in determining what the doctor had sucked so heartily upon. His first word settled the mystery. Why, this is dog! I will not attempt to repeat the few, but emphatic words uttered by the heartily disgusted member of the medical fraternity as he rushed from the lodge. Other members of our small party had entered other lodges, only to find them, like the first, deserted. But little of the furniture belongings to the lodges had been taken, showing how urgent and hasty had been the flight of the owners. Date in the examination of the village, reinforcements were added to our party, and an exploration of each lodge was determined upon. At the same time a messenger dispatched to General Hancock, informing him of the flight of the Indians. Some of the lodges were closed by having bush or timber piled up against the entrance, as if to preserve the contents. Others had huge pieces cut from their sides, these pieces evidently being carried away to furnish temporary shelter to the fugitives. In most of the lodge the fires were still burning. I had entered several without discovering anything important. Finally, in the company with the doctor, I arrived at one, the interior of which was quite dark, the fire having almost died out. Procuring a lighted fagot, I prepared to explore it, as I had done the others. But no sooner had I entered the lodge than my fagot failed me, leaving me in total darkness. Handing it to the doctor to be relighted, I began feeling my way about the interior of the lodge. I had almost made the circuit when my hand came in contact with a human foot. At the same time a voice unmistakably Indian, and which evidently came from the owner's foot, convinced me that I was not alone. My first impression was that in their hasty fight the Indians had gone off leaving this one asleep. My next, very naturally related to myself, I would have gladly placed myself on the outside of the lodge, and there matured plans for interviewing its occupant. But unfortunately, to reach the entrance of the lodge I must either pass over or round the owner of the before mentioned foot and voice. Could I have been convinced that among its other possessions there was neither Tom Hawke nor Scalping Knife, Pistol nor War Club, or any similar article of the noble Red Man's Toilet? I would have risked an attempt to escape through the low narrowing opening of the lodge, but whoever saw an Indian without one or all of these interesting trinkets. Had I made the attempt I should have expected to encounter either the keen edge of the Scalping Knife or the blow of the Tomahawk, and to have engaged in the questionable struggle for life this would not do. I crouched in silence for a few moments, hoping the doctor would return with the lighted fagot. I need not say that each succeeding moment spent in the darkness of that lodge seemed like an age. I could hear a slight movement on the part of my unknown neighbor, which did not add to my comfort. Why does not the doctor return? At last I discovered the approach of a light on the outside. When it neared the entrance I called to the doctor and informed him that an Indian was in the lodge and that he had better have his weapon ready for a conflict. I had, upon discovering the foot, drawn my hunting knife from its scabbard, and now stood waiting in the denouement. With his lighted fagot in one hand and cocked revolver in the other, the doctor cautiously entered the lodge, and there, directly between us, wrapped in a buffalo robe, lay the cause of my anxiety. A little Indian girl, probably ten years old, not a full blood, but half-breed. She was terribly frightened at finding herself in our hands with none of her people nearer. Why was she left behind in this manner? Gurrier, our half-breed interpreter, was called in. His inquiries were soon answered. The little girl, who at first was an object of our curiosity, became at once an object of pity. The Indians, an unusual thing for them to do toward their own blood, had willfully deserted her, but this at last was the least of their injuries to her. After being shamefully abandoned by the entire village, a few of the young men of the tribe returned to the deserted lodge, and upon the person of this little girl committed outrages the details of which are too sickening for these pages. She was carried to the fort, and placed under the care of kind hands and warm hearts, where everything was done for her comfort that was possible. Other parties, in exploring the deserted village found an old decrepit Indian of the Sioux tribe, who had also been deserted, owing to his infirmities and inability to travel with the tribe. He was also kindly cared for by the authorities of the fort. Nothing was gleaned from our search of the village, which might indicate the direction of the flight. General Hancock, on learning the situation of affairs, dispatched some companies of infantry to the deserted village, with orders to replace the cavalry and protect the village of its contents from disturbance, until its final disposition could be determined upon. Returning my command back to our camp near General Hancock's headquarters, I galloped on in advance to report the particulars to the general. It was then decided that with a troops of cavalry I should start in pursuit of the Indians at early dawn on the following morning, April 15. There was no sleep from my command the remainder of the night, the time being fully occupied in preparation for the march, neither the extent nor the direction of which was known. Mesquits were overhauled, and fresh supplies of coffee, sugar, flour, and the other articles which go to supply the soldiers' larder were laid in. Blankets were carefully rolled, so as to occupy as little space as possible every useless pound of luggage was discarded, for in making a rapid pursuit after Indians much of the success depends upon the lightness of the order of the march. Saratoga trunks and their accompaniments are at a discount. Never was the old saying that in Rome one must do as the Romans do, more aptly illustrates, than on an Indian campaign. The Indian knowing that his safety, either on offensive or defensive movements, depends in a great measure upon the speed and endurance of his horse, and takes advantage of every circumstance which will favor either the one or the other. To this end, he divests himself of all superfluous dress and ornament when preparing for rapid movements. The white man, if he hopes for success, must adopt the same rule of action, and encumber his horse as little as possible. Something besides well-filled nest chests and carefully rolled blankets is necessary during preparing for an Indian campaign. Arms must be reexamined, cartridge boxes refilled so that each man should carry about one hundred rounds of ammunition on his person, while each troop commander must see that in the company wagon there are placed a few boxes of reserve ammunition. Then, when the equipment of the soldier has been attended to, his horse, without whose assistance he is helpless, must be looked after. Their shoes are tightened by the driving of an additional nail. To accomplish this, one must see the company blacksmith, a soldier, with the few simple tools of his kit on the ground beside him, hurriedly fashioning the last shoe by the uncertain light of the candle held in the hands of the rider of the horse, their mutual labor being varied at times by queries as to, how long shall we be gone? I wonder if we will catch Mr. Low. If we do, we'll make it lively for him. So energetic at every one bed that before daylight everything was in readiness for the start. In addition to the regularly organized companies of soldiers which made up the pursuing column, I had with me a detachment of white scouts or planesmen, and one of friendly Indians, the latter belonging to the tribe of Delaware's once so famous in Indian wars. Of the Indians, only one could speak English, he acted as an interpreter for the party. Among the white scouts were numbered some of the most noted in their class. The most prominent man among them was Wild Bill, whose highly varied career was made the subject of an illustrated sketch in one of the popular monthly periodicals a few years ago. Wild Bill was a strange character, just the one which a novelist might gloat over. He was a planesman in every sense of the word, yet unlike any other of his class. In person he was about six foot one in height, straight as the straightest of the warriors whose implacable foe he was, broad shoulders, well-formed chest and limbs, and a face strikingly handsome, a sharp, clear, blue eye, which stared at you straight in the face when in conversation, a finely shaped nose inclined to be aquiline, a well-turned mouth with lips only partially concealed by a handsome mustache. His hair and his complexion were those of the perfect blonde. The former was worn and uncut ringlets falling carelessly over his powerfully formed shoulders. Add to this figure a costume blending the immaculate needless of the dandy with the extravagant taste and style of the frontiersmen, and you have Wild Bill, then is now the most famous scout on the planes. Whether on foot or on horseback he was one of the most perfect types of physical manhood I ever saw. Of his courage there could be no question. It had been brought to the test on too many occasions to admit it out, his skill in the use of the rifle and pistol was unearing, while his deportment was exactly that opposite of what might be expected from a man of his surroundings. It was entirely free from all bluster and bravado. He seldom spoke of himself unless requested to do so. His conversation strange to say never bordered either on the vulgar blasphemous. His influence among the frontiersmen was unbounded. His word was law. And many of the personal quarrels and disturbances which he has checked among his comrades by a simple announcement that this has gone far enough. If need be followed by the ominous warning that when persisted in or renewed the quarrel or must settle it with me, while Bill is anything but a quarrelsome man, yet no one but himself can enumerate the many conflicts in which he has been engaged and which have almost invariably resulted in the depth of his adversary. I have personal knowledge of at least half a dozen men whom he has at various times killed, one of these being at the time a member of my command. Others have been severely wounded, yet he always escapes unheard. On the plains every man openly carries his belt with its invariable appendages, knife, and revolver, often two of the latter. While Bill always carries two-handsome ivory-handled revolvers of the large size he was never seen without them. Where this is the common custom, brawls or personal difficulties are seldom, if ever settled by blows. The quarrel is not from a word to a blow, but from a word to the revolver, and he who can draw and fire first is the best man. No civil law reaches him, none is applied for. In fact there is no law recognized beyond the frontier, but that of might makes right. Should death result from a quarrel, as it usually does, no corner's jury is impaneled to learn the cause of the death, and the survivor is not arrested. But instead of these old-fashioned proceedings a meeting of citizens takes place, the survivor is requested to be present when the circumstances of the homicide are inquired into, and the unfailing verdict of justifiable self-defense and so on is pronounced, and the law stands vindicated. That justice is often deprived of a victim, there is not a doubt. Yet in all the many affairs of this kind in which Wild Bill has performed a part, and which have come to my knowledge there is not a single instance in which the verdict of twelve fair-minded men would not be pronounced in his favor. That the even tenor of his way continues to be disturbed by the little events of this description may be inferred from an item which has been floating lately through the columns of the press, and which states that the funeral of Jim Bloodson, who was killed the other day by Wild Bill, took place today, and then adds, the funeral expenses were borne by Wild Bill what could be more thoughtful than this. Not only to send a fellow mortal out of the world, but to pay the expenses of the transit. Gurrier the Half-Bread also accompanied the expedition as guide and interpreter. Everything being in readiness to move, the column began its march and reached the vicinity of the village before day had fully dawned. Here a brief halt was necessary until the light was sufficient to enable our scouts to discover the trail of the Indians. When they finally set to discover this, their method was highly interesting, and resembled not a little the course of a thorough swordsman, who, with a well-trained pointer or setter, thoroughly ranges and beats the ground in search of his coveted game. The Indian had set out on their flight soon after dark, the preceding night, the heavy frost covered the ground and rendered it difficult to detect the trail from the many pony tracks which were always found in the vicinity of a village. We began to grow impatient at the delay when one of the Indians gave the hallo as a signal that the trail was discovered, and again the column marched forward. Our order of the march was for the Indian and the white scouts to keep a few hundred bases in advance of the troops, so that momentary delays upon the part of those watching and following the trail should not extend to the troops. The Indians, on leaving the village, had anticipated pursuit and had adopted measures to mislead us. In order to prevent their trail from being easily recognizable, they had departed in many detachments or parties, almost as there were families or lodges in the village, each party taking a different direction from the others, having personally agreed, of course, upon the general direction and place of reuniting. Once being satisfied that we were on the right trail, no difficulty was found in following it as rapidly as our horses could walk. The Indians had nearly twelve hours the start of us, but being encumbered by their families we hoped to overhaul them before many days. Our first obstacle was encountered when we struck Walnut Creek, a small stream running east and west, some thirty miles north of the Arkansas at that point. The banks were so high and abrupt that it was impossible to reach the water's edge, but alone clamor up the opposite bank. A few of the Indians had been able to accomplish this feat, as was shown by the tracks on the opposite side, but the main band had moved upstream in search of a favorable crossing and we were compelled to do likewise. Here we found that the Indians had called a halt, built fires, and cooked their breakfast. So rapidly had we gained upon them that the fires were burning freshly and the departure of the Indians had been so abrupt that they left several ponies with their packs tied to trees. One of the packs belonged to the famous chief Roman Nose, who was one of those who met us at the grand gathering just before we reached their village a few days before. One of our Delaware's who made the capture was very proud of the success and was soon seen ornamenting his headdress with the bright crimson feathers taken from the wardrobe of Roman Nose. Encouraged by our progress, we continued the pursuit as rapidly as they do regard for our horses would permit. Thus far neither myself nor any of the soldiers had caught sight of any Indians. But our Delaware scouts who were consistently in the advance and on our flanks, taking advantage of the bluffs to reconnect her frequently, reported that they saw small parties of Indians observing our movements from a distance. From positive evidence familiar to those accustomed to the planes, we were convinced that we were rapidly gaining upon the Indians. The earth upturned by the feet of their ponies and by the ends of the trailing lodge poles was almost as damp and fresh as that disturbed by the horses of the command. Soon we discovered additional signs of encouragement. The route now became strewn with various lodge poles and other obstacles peculiar to an Indian's outfit, showing that they were lightening up so as to facilitate their escape. So certain did we feel of our ability to out-trail them that the only question now was one which had often determined the success of military operations. Would darkness intervene to disappoint us? We must imitate the example of the Indians and disembarrass ourselves of everything tending to retard our speed. The troops would march much faster. If permitted to do so, then the rate at which our wagons had forced themselves along, it was determined to leave the wagons under the escort of one squadron to follow our trail as rapidly as they could, while the other three squadrons pushed on in pursuit. Should darkness settle down before overtaking the Indians, the advantage was altogether against us, as we would be compelled to await daylight, to enable us to follow the trail while the Indians were free to continue their flight, sheltered and aided by the darkness. By three o'clock p.m. we felt that we were almost certain to accomplish our purpose. No obstacles seemed to stand in our way. The trail was broad and plain, and apparently as fresh as our own. Half an hour or an hour at the furthest seemed only necessary to enable us to dash upon our wildly enemy. Alas, for human calculations, the Indians by means of the small reconnoitering parties observed by our scouts had kept themselves consistently informed regarding our movements and progress. They at first risked their safety upon the superior speed and endurance of their ponies, a safe reliance when favored by the grass season, but in winter this advantage was on our side. Failing in their first resource they had a second and better method of eluding us. So long as they kept united and moved in one body their trail was as plainly to be seen and as easily followed as if made by a heavily laden wagon train. We were not called upon to employ time and great watchfulness on the part of our scouts to follow it, but when was finally clear to be seen that, the race as it was then being run, the white man was sure to win. The proverbial cunning of the red man came to his rescue and thwarted the plans of his pursuers. Again dividing us tribe as when, first setting out from the village into numerous small parties, we were discouraged by seeing the broad, well-beaten trail suddenly separate into hundreds of indistinct routes, leading fan shape and as many different directions. What was to be done? The general direction of the main trail before dissolving into so many small ones had been nearly north, showing that if undisturbed in their flight the Indians would strike the smoky hill overland route, cross it, then pursue their way northwards to the headwaters of the Solomon or Republican River, or further still to the Platte River. Selecting a central trail we continued our pursuit, now being compelled off into halt and verify our course, the trail gradually grew smaller and smaller, until by five o'clock it had become so faint as to be followed with the greatest difficulty. We had been marching exactly twelve hours without halting, except to water our horses. Reluctantly we were forced to go into camp and await the assistance of daylight. The Delaware Scouts continued the pursuit six miles further, but returned without accomplishing anything. The Indians, after dividing up into small parties, kept up communication with each other by means of columns of signal smoke. These signal smokes were to be seen to the west, north, and east of us, but nor nearer than ten miles. They only proved to us that we were probably on the trail of the main body, as the fires were in front and on both sides of us. We had marched over 35 miles without halt. The Delaware's having determined the direction of the trail for six miles, we would be able, next morning, to continue that far, at least unaided by daylight. Our wagons overtook us a few hours after we reached camp. Reveley was sounded at two o'clock the next morning, and four o'clock found us again in the saddle, and following the guidance of our friendly Delaware's. The direction of our march took us up the valley, an almost dry bed of a small stream. The Delaware's thought we might find where the Indians had in camp during the night by following the upward course of the stream. But in this we were disappointed. The trail became more and more indistinct, until it was lost in the barren waste over which we were then moving. To add to our annoyance, the water course had become entirely dry, and our guides were uncertain as to whether water could be procured in one day's march in any direction, except that from which we had come. We were, therefore, forced to counter-march after reaching a point 13 miles from our starting place in the morning, and retrace our steps until the uncertain stream, in whose valley we then were, would give us enough water for our wants. Here I will refer to an incident entirely personal, which came very near costing me my life. When leaving our camp that morning I felt satisfied that the Indians, having traveled at least a portion of the night, were then many miles in advance of us, and there was neither danger nor probability that encountering any of them near the column. We were then in a magnificent game country, buffalo, antelope, and smaller game being in abundance on all sides of us. Although an ardent sportsman, I had never hunted the buffalo up to this time, consequently was exceedingly desirous of tasting its excitement. I had several fine English Greyhounds whose speed I was anxious to test with that of the antelope, said to be, which I believe, the flitest of animals, was mounted on a fine, large, thoroughbred horse, taking with me but one man, the chief bugler, and calling my dogs around me, I galloped ahead of the column as soon as it was daylight, for the purpose of having a chase after some antelope which could be seen grazing nearly two miles distance. That such a course was rashly imprudent, I am ready to admit. A stirring gallop of a few minutes brought me near enough to the antelope, of which there were a dozen or more to enable the dogs to catch sight of them. Then the chase began. The antelope running in a direction which took us away from the command, by availing myself of the turns in the course, I was able to keep well in view of the exciting chase, until it was evident that the antelope were no danger of being caught by the dogs, which latter had become blown for want of proper exercise. I succeeded in calling them off, and was about to set out on my return to the column. The horse of the chief bugler, being a common bred animal, failed early in the race, and his rider wisely concluded to regain the command, so that I was alone. How far I had traveled from the troops I was trying to determine, when I discovered a large, dark-looking animal grazing nearly a mild distance. And yet I had never seen a wild buffalo, but I at once recognized this as not only a buffalo, but a very large one. Here was my opportunity. A ravine nearby would enable me to approach unseen, until almost within pistol range of my game. Using my dogs to follow me, I slowly pursued the course of the ravine, giving my horse opportunity to gather himself for a second run. When I emerged from the ravine, I was still several hundred yards from the buffalo, which almost instantly discovered me, and set off as fast as his legs could carry him. Had my horse been fresh, the race would have been a short one. But the preceding long run had not been without effect. How long, or how fast we flew in pursuit, the intense excitement of the chase prevented me from knowing. I only know that even the Greyhounds were left behind, until finally my good steed placed himself and me close alongside the game. It may be because this was the first I had seen, but surely of hundreds of thousands of buffaloes which I have since seen, none of corresponded with him in his size and lofty grandeur. My horse was above the average size, yet the buffalo towered even above him. I had carried my revolver in my hand from the moment the race began. Repeatedly could I have placed the muzzle against the shaggy body of the huge beast, by whose side I fairly yelled with wild excitement and delight, yet each time would I withdraw the weapon as if to prolong the enjoyment of the race. It was a race for life or death, yet how different the award from what could be imagined. Still we spent over the springy turf, the high breeding and meadow of my horse being plainly visible over that of the huge beast that struggled by his side. Mile after mile was traversed in this way until the rate and distance began to tell precipitably upon the bison, whose protruding tongue and labored breathing plainly betrayed his distress. Determined and the chase and bring down my game, I again placed the muzzle of the revolver close to the body of the buffalo, when, as if divining my attention and feeling his inability to escape by flight, he suddenly determined to fight, and at once wielded, as only a buffalo can to gore my horse. So sudden was this movement, and so sudden was a corresponding veering of my horse to avoid the attack, that to retain my control over him I hastily brought up my pistol hand to the assistance of the other. Unfortunately, as I did, so my finger, in the excitement of the occasion, pressed the trigger, discharged the pistol and sent the fatal ball into the very brain of the noble animal I rode. Running at full speed he fell dead in the course of his leap. Quick as though I disengaged myself from the stirrups and found myself whirling through the air over and beyond the head of my horse, my only thought, as I was describing this trajectory, and my first thought on reaching the terra firma was, what will the buffalo do with me? Although at first inclined to rush upon me, my strange procedure seemed to astonish him. Either that, or pity for the utter helplessness of my condition, inclined him to alter his course and leave me alone to my own bitter reflections. In a moment the danger into which I had unluckily brought myself stood out in bold relief before me. Under ordinary circumstances the death of my horse would have been serious enough. I was strongly attached to him, had ridden him in battle during the portion of the late war. Yet now his death, except in its consequence, was scarcely thought of. Here I was, alone in the heart of Indian country, with warlike Indians known to be in the vicinity. I was not familiar with country. How far I had traveled or in what direction from the column I was at a loss to know. In the excitement of the chase I had lost all reckoning. Indians were liable to pounce upon me at any moment. My command would not note my absence probably for hours. Two of my dogs overtook me and with mute glances first at the dead steed, then at me, seemed to inquire to cause of this strange condition of affairs. Their instinct appeared to tell them that they were in misfortune. While I was deliberating what to do, the dogs became uneasy, whine piteously, and seemed eager to leave the spot. In this desire I sympathized with them. But wither should I go? I observed that their eyes were generally turned in one particular direction. This I accepted as my cue, and with one parting look at my horse, and grasping a revolver in each hand I set out on my uncertain journey. As long as the body of my horse was visible above the horizon I kept referring to it as my guiding point, and in this way contrived to preserve my direction. This resource soon failed me, and I then had recourse to weeds, buffalo skulls, or any two objects I could find on my line of march. Consistently my eyes kept scanning the horizon, each moment expecting, with reason too, to find myself discovered by Indians. I had traveled in this manner, what seemed to me about three or four miles, when far ahead in the distance I saw a column of dust rising. A hasty examination soon convinced me that the dust was produced by one or three causes, white men, Indians, or buffalo. Two to one in my favor at any rate, selecting a ravine where I could crawl away undiscovered should the approaching body prove to be Indians, I called my dogs to my side and concealed myself as well as I could to await developments. The object of my anxious solitude was still several miles distance. Whatever it was, it was approaching in my direction, and was plainly discernible from the increasing columns of dust. Fortunately I had my field of glass slung across my shoulder, and if Indians I could discover them before they could possibly discover me. Soon I was able to see the heads of mounted men running in irregular order. This discovery shut out the probability of their being buffaloes, and simplified the question to white men or Indians. Neither during the war did I scan an enemy's battery or approaching column with half the anxious care with which I watched the party then approaching me. For a long time nothing satisfactory could be determined until my eye caught sight of an object which high above the heads of the approaching riders told me in unmistakable terms that friends were approaching. It was the cavalry guidon, and never was the sight of stars and stripes more welcome. My comrades were greatly surprised to find me seated on the ground alone and without my horse. A few words explained all. A detachment of my men followed my directions found my horse, and returned with saddle and other equipments. Another horse, and Richard was himself again, plus a little valuable experience and minus a valuable horse. In retracing our steps later in the day, in search of water sufficient for camping purposes, we marched over nine miles of our morning route, and at 2 p.m. on April 16th we went into camp. From this point I wrote a dispatch to General Hancock and sent it back by two of my scouts who sat out on their journey as soon as it was dark. It was determined to push on and reach the Smoky Hill route as soon as possible, and give the numerous stage stations along that route notice of the presence of warlike Indians. This was before the Pacific Railroad or its branches had crossed the plains. Resting our animals from two until 7 p.m., we were again in the saddle and setting out for a night march, our only guide being the North Star. We hoped to strike the stage route near a point called Downey Station. After riding all night we reached and crossed about daylight, the Smoky Hill River, along whose valley and stage route runs. The stations were then from 10 to 15 miles apart. If Indians had crossed this line at any point the station men would be informed of it. To get information as to this, as well as to determine where we were, an officer with one company was at once dispatched on this mission. This party had scarcely taken its departure, and our pickets been posted before the entire command of tired, sleepy Calvarmans, scouts, and Delaware's had thrown themselves on the ground and were wrapped in the deepest slumber. We had slept perhaps an hour or more, yet it seemed but a few moments when an alarm shot from the lookout at the startling cry of Indians brought the entire command under arms. End of Chapter 4 Chapter 5 of My Life on the Plains This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Although in search of Indians and supposed to be always prepared to encounter them, yet the warning shot of the sentry follows as it was by his cry of Indians could not but produce the greatest excitement in camp, where all had been quiet before, men sleeping and resting after their long night march, animals grazing unsuspectedly in the midst of the wagon's intents, which thickly dotted the plain here and there, all was now bustle, if not confusion. Herders and teamsters ran to their animals to conduct them inside the limits of the camp, the troopers on one platoon of each company hastened to secure the cavalry horses and provide against a stampede. While those of the remaining platoons were rapidly marshaled under arms by their troop officers and advanced in the direction from which the lookout reported the enemy to be approaching, all this required but a few moments of time. Recovering from that first shock of surprise we endeavored, one and all, to discover the number and purpose of the foes who had in so unceremonious a manner disturbed our much needed slumbers. Daylight had just gone on, but the sun was not yet high enough to render a satisfactory view of the country possible. This difficulty was aggravated too by a dull heavy mist which hung like a curtain near the horizon. Yet in spite of all these obstructions we could clearly perceive at a distance of perhaps a mile the dim outlines of numerous figures, horsemen evidently, approaching our camp not as if simply on the march, but in battle array. First came a deployed line of horsemen followed in the rear as we could plainly see by a reserve also mounted a moving and compact order. It required no practiced eye to comprehend that be they who or what they might, the parties advancing in this precise and determined manner upon us were doing so with hostile purpose, and evidently intended to charge into our camp unless defeated in their purpose. No time was to be lost. Dispositions to meet the coming attack were rapidly made. To better observe the movements and determine the strength of the approaching parties an officer ascended the knoll occupied by the lookout. We had often heard of the high perfection of some of the Indian tribes in military evolutions and discipline, but here we saw evidence which went far to convince us that the red man was not far behind in his more civilized brother in the art of war. Certainly no troops of my command could have advanced a skirmish line or moved a reserve more accurately than was done in our presence that morning. As yet we had no means of determining to what tribe the attacking party belonged. We're satisfied they must be their Sue or Cheyennes or both. In either case we should encounter troublesome foes. But for the heavy mist we could have comprehended everything. Soon we began receiving reports from the officer who had ascended to the lookout. First there were not more than eighty horsemen to be seen. This number we could easily dispose of. Next the attacking parties seemed to have changed their plan. A halt was ordered, and two or three horsemen seemed to be advancing to the front, as if to parlay or reconnator our position. Then the skirmishes were suddenly withdrawn and united with the reserve, when the entire party wheeled about and began to move off. This was mystifying in the extreme. But a couple of young cavalry officers leaped into their saddles and taking a few mounted troopers with them dashed after our late enemies, determined to learn more about them, then they seemed willing we should. A brisk gallop soon cleared away the mystery and furnished another proof of the deceptive effects produced by the atmosphere on the planes. Those who have read the preceding article will remember that at the termination of the night march which brought us to our present camp an officer was dispatched with one troop of cavalry to find the nearest stage station on the overland route near which we knew we must be. Our camp lay on the Smoky Hill River. The stage route, better known as the Smoky Hill Route, was known to be but a few miles north of us. To determine our exact locality, we had been marching by compass over a wild country, and in the nighttime and to learn something regarding the Indians, this officer was sent out. He was selected for the service because of his professed experience on and knowledge of the planes. He had set out from our camp an hour or more before daylight, but losing his bearings had marched his command in a semi-circle, until daylight found him on the side of our camp opposite that from which he had departed. The conical sibley tent used in my command resembling the Indian lodge from which it was taken, seen through the peculiar and uncertain morning atmosphere of that region, had presented to his eyes and to those in his men the appearance of an Indian village. The animals grazing about our camp might well have been taken for the ponies of the Indians. Besides, it was well known that large encampments of Indians were in the part of the country over which we were marching. The bewilderment of this detachment then was not surprising considering the attending circumstances. Had the officer in command been young and inexperienced, his mishap might have been credited to these causes. But here was an officer who had grown gray in the service familiar with the planes and with Indians, yet so completely misled by appearances as to mistake his camp, which he had left but an hour before, as an Indian village. Few officers laboring under the same impression would have acted so credibly. He and his men imagined they had discovered the camp of Indians whom we had been pursuing. And although believing their enemies outnumbered them ten to one, yet their zeal and earnestness prompted them instead of sending to their main camp for reinforcements, thereby losing valuable time and probable opportunities to affect a surprise, to make a dash at once into the village. And it was only the increasing light of day that enabled them to discover their mistake and saved us from a charge from our own troopers. This little incident will show how necessary experienced professional guides are in connection with all military movements on the planes. It was a long time before the officer who had been so unlucky as to lose his way heard the last of it from his brother officers. The remainder of his mission was completed more successfully. Aided by daylight and moving nearly due north, he soon struck the well-traveled overland route. And from the frightened employees at the nearest station he obtained intelligence, which confirmed our worst fears as to the extent of the Indian outbreak. Stage stations at various points along the route had been attacked and burned, and the inmates driven off or murdered. All travel across the planes was suspended, and an Indian war with all its barbarities had been forced upon the people of the frontier. As soon as the officer ascertaining these facts had returned to camp and made his report, the entire command was again put in motion and started in the direction of the stage route with the intention of clearing it, of struggling bands of Indians reopening the main line of travel across the planes, and establishing, if possible, upon the proper tribe's responsibility for the numerous outrages recently committed. The stage stations were erected at points along the route, distant from each other from ten to fifteen miles, and were used solely for the shelter and accommodation of the relays of drivers and horses employed on the stage route. We found in passing over the route on our eastward march that only about every fourth station was occupied, the occupants on the other three having congregated there for mutual defense against the Indians, and later having burned the deserted stations. From the employees of the company at various points we learned that for the few preceding days the Indians had been crossing the line going toward the north in large bodies. In some places we saw the ruins of the burned stations, but it was not until we reached Lookout Station, a point about fifteen miles west of Fort Hayes, that we came upon the first real evidence of Indian outbreak. Riding some distance in advance of the command I reached the station only to find it and the adjacent building in ashes. The ruins still smoking. Nearby I discovered the bodies of three station keepers so mangled and burned as to be scarcely recognizable as human beings. The Indians had evidently tortured them before putting an end to their suffering. They were scalped and horribly disfigured. Their bodies were badly burned but whether before after death could not be determined. No arrow or other article of Indian manufacture could be found to positively determine what particular tribe was a guilty one. The men at the other station had recognized some of the Indians' passing as belonging to the Sioux and Cheyennes, the same we had passed from the village on the Pawnee Fork. Continuing our march we reached Fort Hayes, from which point I dispatched a report to General Hancock on the Arkansas, furnishing him with all the information I had gained concerning the outrages and movements of the Indians. It had been a question of considerable dispute between the respective advocates of the Indian peace and war policy as to which party committed the first overt act of war, the Indians or General Hancock's command. I quote from a letter on the subject written by Major General Hancock to General Grant and reply to a letter of inquiry from the latter when commanding the armies of the United States. General Hancock says, When I learned from General Custer who investigated these matters on the spot, that directly after they had abandoned the villages they attacked and burned a male station on the Smoky Hill, killed the white men at it, disemboweled and burned them, fired into another station, endeavored to gain admittance to a third, fired on my expressmen both on the Smoky Hill and on their way to Larned. I conclude that this must be war, and therefore deemed it my duty to take the first opportunity which presented to resist these hostilities and outrages, and did so by destroying their villages. As a punishment for the bad faith practiced by the Cheyennes and the Sioux who occupied the Indian village at this place, and as a chastisement for murders and depredations committed since the arrival of the command, at this point by the people of these tribes the village recently occupied by them which is now in our hands will be utterly destroyed. From these extracts the question raised can be readily settled. This act of retribution on the part of General Hancock was the signal for an extensive pen and ink war directed against him and his forces. This was to be expected. The pre-cunary loss and deprivation of opportunities to speculate in Indian commodities, as practiced by most Indian agents, were too great to be submitted to without a murmur. The Cheyennes, Arapahos, and Apaches had been united under one agency. The Kayawas and Comanches under another. As General Hancock's expedition had reference to all of these tribes he had extended invitations to each of the two agents to accompany him into Indian country and to be present at all interviews with the representatives of these respective tribes for the purpose as the invitation states of showing the Indians that the officers of the government are acting in harmony. These agents were both present at General Hancock's headquarters, both admitted to General Hancock in conversation that Indians had been guilty of all the outrages charged against them, but each asserted their innocence on the particular tribes under his charge and endeavored to lay their crimes at the door of their neighbors. The agent of the Kayawas and Comanches declared to the department commander that the tribes of his agency have been grossly wronged by having been charged with various offenses which have undoubtedly been committed by the Cheyennes, Arapahos, and that these tribes deserve severe and summary chastisement for their numerous misdeeds, very many of which had been laid at the doors of his innocent tribes. Now to be outdone in the profuse use of fair words, however, the agent of the three tribes thus assailed, informed General Hancock that his three tribes were peaceably inclined and rarely committed offenses against the laws, but that most unfortunately they were charged in many instances with the crimes which have been perpetrated by other tribes, and that in this respect they had suffered heavily from the Kayawas who were the most turbulent Indians of the plains and deserved punishment more than any others. Here was positive evidence from the agents themselves that the Indians against whom we were operating were guilty and deserving of severe punishment. The only conflicting portion of the testimony was as to which tribe was most guilty. Subsequent events proved, however, that all of the five tribes named as well as the Sioux had combined for a general war throughout the plains and along our frontier. Such a war had been threatened to our post-commanders along the Arkansas and many occasions during the winter. The movement of the Sioux and the Cheyennes toward the North indicated that the principal theater of military operations during the summer would be between the Smoky Hill and Platt Rivers. General Hancock accordingly assembled the principal chiefs of the Kayawas and Arapahos and counseled for Dodge hoping to induce them to remain at peace and observe their treaty obligations. The most prominent chiefs and counsel were Satanta, Lone Wolf, and Kickingbird of the Kayawas, and Little Raven and Yellow Bear of the Arapahos. During the counsel, extravagant promises of future good conduct were made by these chiefs. So effective and convincing was the oratorical effort of Satanta that at the termination of his address the department commander and staff presented him with the uniform coat, sash, and the hat of a major general. In return for this compliment, Satanta, within a few weeks after, attacked the post at which the counsel was held, arrayed in his new uniform. This said chief had but recently headed an expedition to the frontier of Texas, where among other murders committed by him and his band was known as the Box Massacre. The Box family consisted of a father, mother, and five children. The eldest, a girl about 18, the youngest, a babe. The entire family had been visiting at a neighbor's house and were returning home in the evening, little dreaming of the terrible fate impending when Satanta and his warriors dashed upon them, surrounded the wagon in which they were driving, and at the first fire killed the father and one of the children. The mother was at first permitted to carry the youngest child, a babe of a few months in her arms, but the latter becoming fretful during the tiresome night ride began to cry. The Indians, fearing the sound of its voice might be heard by pursuers, snatched it from its mother's arms and dashed its brains out against a tree, and threw the lifeless remains to the ground and continued their flight. No halt was made for 24 hours, after which the march was conducted more deliberately. Each night the mother and three children were permitted to occupy one shelter, closely guarded by their watchful enemies. After traveling for several days, this war-party arrived at the point where they rejoined their lodges. They were still a long distance from the main village which was near the Arkansas. Each night the scalp of the father was hung up in the lodge occupied by the mother and children. A long and weary march over a wild and desolate country brought them to the main village. Here the captives found that their most serious troubles were to commence. In accordance with Indian custom, upon the return of a successful war-party, a grand assembly of the tribe took place. The prisoners, captured horses, and scalps were brought forth, and the usual ceremonies, terminating in a scalp dance, followed. Then the division of the spoils was made. The captives were apportioned among the various bands composing the tribe, so that when the division was completed the mother fell to the possession of one chief, the eldest daughter to that of another. The second, the little girl, was probably ten years to another, and the youngest, a child of three years, to a fourth. No two members of the family were permitted to remain in the same band, but were each carried to separate villages, distant from each other several days' march. This was done partially to prevent escape. No pen can describe the painful tortures of mind and body endured by this unfortunate family. They remained as captives in the hands of the Indians for more than a year, during which time the eldest daughter, a beautiful girl just ripening into womanhood, was exposed to a fate infinitely more dreadful than death itself. She first fell into one of the principal chiefs, who, after robbing her of that which was more precious than life, and forcing her to become the victim of this brutal lust, bartered her in return for two horses to another chief. He again, after wearing of her, traded her to a chief of a neighboring band. And in that way, this unfortunate girl was passed from one to another of her savage captors, undergoing a life so horribly brutal that, when meeting her upon her release from captivity, one could only wonder how a young girl matured in a civilization and possessed the natural refinement and delicacy of thought which she exhibited could have survived such a degrading treatment. The mother and the second daughter fared somewhat better. The youngest, however, separated from mother and sisters, had thrown among people totally devoid of all kind feeling, spent the time in shedding bitter tears. This so enraged the Indians that, as a punishment as well as a preventative, the child was seized and the soles of its naked feet exposed to the flames of the lodge fire, till every portion of the cuticle was burned therefrom. When I saw this little girl a year afterwards her feet were from this cause still in painful and unhealed condition, these poor captives were reclaimed from their bondage through the efforts of officers of the army and by the payment of a ransom amounting to many hundreds of dollars. The facts relating to their cruel treatment were obtained by me directly from the mother and eldest daughter immediately after their release, which occurred a few months prior to the council held with Satanta and other chiefs. To prove something of the character of the Cheyennes, one of the principal tribes with which we were at war, I will give the following extract from an official communication addressed by me to General Hancock prior to the surrender of the little Indian boy of whom mention was made in a former article. My recommendation was not deemed practicable, as it had been promised by us in treaty stipulation to return the boy unconditionally. Having learned that a boy belonging to the Cheyenne tribe of Indians is in the position of the military authorities, and that it is the intention of the major general commanding that apartment to deliver him up to the above-named tribe, I would respectfully state that a little white girl aged from four to seven years is held captive by the Cheyenne Indians and is now in the possession of Cutnose, a chief of said tribe. The child referred to as been in the hands of the Indians a year or more. She was captured somewhere in the vicinity of the Kashlapodre, Colorado. The parent's name is Fletcher. The father escaped with a severe wound, the mother and two younger children being taken prisoners. The Indians killed one of the children outright, and the mother, after subjecting her to torture, too horrible to name. The child now held by the Indians was kept captive. An elder daughter made her escape and now resides in Iowa. The father resides in Salt Lake City. I have received several letters from the father and elder's daughter, and from friends of both requesting me to obtain the release of the little girl, if possible. I would therefore request that it be made a condition of the return of the Indian boy now in our possession that the Cheyennes give up the white child referred to above. This proposition failing in its object, and the war destroying all means of communications with the Indians and scattering the ladder over the plains, all trace of the little white girl was lost. And to this day nothing is known of her fate. After breaking out of Indian difficulty, Cutnose, with his band, was located along the Smoky Hill Route in the vicinity of Monument Station. He frequently visited the stage stations for purpose of trade, and was invariably accompanied by his little captive. I never saw her, but those that did represented her as strikingly beautiful, her complexion being fair, her eyes blue, and her hair of a bright golden hue. She presented a marked contrast to the Indian children who accompanied her. Cutnose, from the delicate light color of her hair, gave her an Indian name signifying little silver hair. He appeared to treat her with great affection, and always kept her clothed in the handsomest of Indian garments. All offers from individuals to ransom her proved unavailing. Although she had been with the Indians but a year, she spoke the Cheyenne language fluently, and seemed to have no knowledge of her mother tongue. The treatment of the box and Fletcher families is not given as isolated instances, but is referred to principally to show the character of the enemy with whom we were at war. Volume after volume might be filled in recounting the unprovoked and merciless atrocities committed upon the people of the frontier by their implacable foe, the Red Man. It will become necessary, however, in making a truthful record of the principal events which transpired under my personal observations, to make mention of Indian outrageous surpassing, if possible, in savage cruelty any yet referred to. As soon as General Hancock had terminated his counsel with the Kiowas and the Rappos, he marched with the remaining portion of the expedition across from the Arkansas to Fort Hayes, where my command was then encamped, arriving there on the 3rd of May, here owing to the neglect or delay of the officers of the Quartermasters Department and forwarding the necessary stores, the cavalry was prevented from undertaking any extensive movement, but had to content itself for the time being in scouting the adjacent country. This time, however, was well employed in the preparation of men and animals for the work which was to be assigned them. Unfortunately, desertions from the ranks became so frequent and extensive as to cause little anxiety. To produce these several causes combined. Prominent among them was the insufficiency and inferior quality of rations furnished the men. At times a ladder were made the victims of fraud and it was only by the zealous care and watchfulness of the officers immediately over them that their wants were properly attended to. Dishonest contractors at the receiving depots for the East had been permitted to perpetrate gross frauds upon the government, the result of which was to produce want and suffering among the men. For example, unbroken packages of provision shipped from the main depot of supplies of which it was impracticable to replace without loss of time, were when opened discovered to contain huge stones for which the government had paid so much per pound, according to contract price. Boxes of bread were shipped in issue to the soldiers of my command, the contents of which had been baked in 1861, yet this was in 1867. It is unnecessary to state that but little of this bread was eaten, yet there was none at hand of better quality to replace it. Bad provisions were a fruitful cause of bad health. Inactivity led to restlessness and dissatisfaction. Scurvy made its appearance and cholera attacking neighboring stations. For all these evils, desertion became the most popular antidote. To such an extent was this the case, that in one year one regiment lost by desertion alone more than half of its effective force. General Hancock remained with us only a few days before setting out with a battery for his headquarters at Fort Leavenworth. Supplies were pushed out and every preparation was made for resuming offensive movements against the Indians. To find employment for the few weeks which must ensure before breaking up camp was sometimes a difficult task. To break the monotony and give horses and men exercise buffalo hunts were organized in which officers and men joined heartily. I know of no better drill for perfecting men in the use of firearms on horse back and thoroughly accustoming them to the saddle than buffalo hunting over a moderately rough country. No amount of riding under this best of drill masters will give that confidence of security in the saddle, which will result from a few spirited charges into a buffalo herd. The command, consisting of cavalry alone, was at last in readiness to move. Wagons had been loaded with reserve supplies and we were only waiting the growth of the spring grass to set out on the long march, which had previously been arranged. On the first of June, with about 350 men and a train of 20 wagons, I left Fort Hayes and directed our line of march towards Fort McPherson on the Platte River, distant by the proposed route 225 miles. The friendly Delaware's accompanied us as scouts and trailers, but our guide was a young white man known on the plains as Will Comstock. No Indian knew the country more thoroughly than did Comstock. He was perfectly familiar with every divide, water course, and strip of timber for hundreds of miles in either direction. He knew the dress and the peculiarities of every Indian tribe and spoke the languages of many of them. Perfect and horsemanship, fearless and manner and splendid hunter and a gentleman by instinct, as modest and unassuming as he was brave, he was an interesting and, well, valuable companion on a march such as was then before us. Many were the adventures and incidents of frontier life with which he was accustomed to entertain us, when around the campfire or on the march. Little did he then imagine that his own life would soon be given as a sacrifice to his daring and that he, with all his experience among the savages, would fall a victim of Indian treachery. It had been decided that my command should thoroughly scout the country from Fort Hayes near the Smoky Hill River to Fort McPherson on the Platte. Then, described a semi-circle to the southward, touching the headwaters of the Republican, and again reached the Platte at or near Fort Sedwick, at which post we would replenish our supplies, then move directly south to Fort Wallace on the Smoky Hill, and from there march the overland route to our starting point at Fort Hayes. This would involve a ride of upwards of 1,000 miles. As is usually the case, the first day's march was not to be a long one. The troops under charge of the officer's second command, Colonel Wycliffe Cooper, left the camp and marched up the valley of Big Creek, a distance of 18 miles, and there, encamped. Two companies of cavalry and a small force of infantry were to constitute the garrison to remain behind. When the troops composing my command left, it became necessary to rearrange the camp and provide new disposition for defense. My wife, who always accompanied me when in camp or on the march, except when I was engaged in active pursuit of Indians, had rejoined me soon after my arrival at Fort Hayes. She was accompanied by a young lady friend from the east, a schoolmate who had been tempted by the novelties of the wild western life to make her a visit in camp. As there were other ladies in camp, wives of officers who were to remain with the garrison, my wife and friend decided to remain and await our return, rather than go back to the protection and luxuries of civilization. To arrange for their comfort and superintend the locating of their tents, I remained behind my command, intending to wait until after midnight, and then, guided by the moonlight, ride on and overtake my command before it should commence its second day's march. I retained with me two soldiers, one scout and four of the Delaware's. As soon as the command moved, the portion to remain at Fort Hayes was drawn in near the few buildings which constituted the fort. All of the cavalry and a portion of the infantry were to encamp in the valley and not far from the stream. For three-quarters of a mile on either side of the valley consisted of a level unbroken plane. Then a low bluff was encountered, succeeded by a second plane of less extent. This was bordered by a higher and more broken bluff than the first. Fortunately, in selecting the ground on which the tents intended for the ladies were to stand, I had chosen a little knoll. So small is to be scarcely perceivable, yet the only elevated ground to be found. It was within a few steps of the banks of the stream, while the main camp was located below and near the bluff. For safety reasons a few soldiers were placed in camp a short distance above. In ordinary times the banks of Big Creek are at this point from 25 to 45 feet above the water, and a person accustomed to the slow and gradual rise and fall which prevails along the beds of streams in the eastern states, can with difficulty realize the suddenness with which the deep and narrow channels of the water courses of the planes become filled with overflowing water. The proportion to the surface of the country or the watersheds, the water courses or channels are few, too few to accommodate the drainage necessary during the wet season. The banks on which the little knoll stood was by actual measurement 36 feet above ordinary watermark. The knoll was probably three or four feet above the level of the valley. Surely this location might be considered well enough for protected naturally against the rainy season. So I thought as I saw the working party putting the finishing touches to the bright white canvas house, which to all intents and purposes was to be to me even in my absence, my army home. I confidently expected to return to this camp at the termination of my march. I will be pardoned if I anticipate events and terminate its history now. A few days after my command had marched a heavy storm set in, the rain pouring down in a matter resembling a water spout. The immediate effect of the heavy shower was not at once noticeable near the camp at Fort Hayes, as a heaviest rainfall had occurred far above that point. But in the nighttime after the entire camp except the guards had long since retired and fallen asleep, the stream overcharged by the rushing volumes from above soon became transformed from a mild and murmuring brook into an irresistible turbulent torrent. So sudden and unexpected had been the rise that before the alarm could be given, the 36 feet which had been separating the surface of the water from the top of the banks had been overcome. And in addition, the water began now sweeping over the entire plain. After overflowing the natural banks of the creek, the first new channel ran in such a manner as to surround the tents occupied by the ladies as well as that occupied by the few soldiers stationed up the stream, but still leaving communication open between the main camp and the bluff toward the mainland. The soldiers as well as the officers and their families in the main camp hastened to the bluff to escape being swept down the huge torrent which each instant became more fearful. To add to the embarrassment of the situation, the blackest darkness prevailed, only relieved at times by vivid gleams of lightning, while the deep sullen roar of the torrent, increasing each moment in depth and volume, was only drowned at intervals by the fierce and more deafening uproar of the thunder, which sounded like the applause of some huge fury watching the struggle between the elements. When Mrs. Custer and her young lady companion were awakened by the storm, they discovered that their tents were surrounded by the new channel and that all efforts to reach the main camp would prove unavailing. They had with them at this time only a colored female servant. They did not even know the fate of the other portion of the camp. In the midst of this fearful scene they heard the series of cries of men in despair near their tent. The cries came from soldiers who had been in camp above them, but were now being carried off in the darkness by the rising current. No assistance could reach them. It is doubtful if they could have been saved even if they had been found by daylight. There were seven in all. One of them, as he was being swept by the tent, contrived through accident, no doubt, to grasp the branch of a small brush which grew on the bank. It was for him that the cries of distress principally proceeded, aided by the dim light of a camp lantern. The ladies were unable to see this unfortunate man clinging as it were between life and death. With commendable presence of mind, considering the fate staring them in the face, a rope was procured and after a few failures one end was thrown to the unfortunate man and by the united strength of the two ladies and their servant he was pulled ashore and for the time being at least his life was saved. His six less fortunate companions were drowned. Two of the officers, Brevet, Major General, A.J. Smith, and his Adjutant General, Colonel Ware, with a view to rescuing the ladies, had succeeded in making their way across the new channel made by the torrent to the knoll. But when attempting to return on horseback to the mainland they found the current too deep and swift for them to succeed. They were compelled then to await their fate. The water continued to rise until the entire valley from the natural channel to the first bluff, a distance of a quarter of a mile was covered by an unfortable river. The only point still free from water was the little knoll which I had been so fortunate as to select for the tents. But the rise in the water continued until it finally reached the edge of the tent. At this rate the tents themselves must soon be swept away. As the last resort, a gatling gun which stood near the entrance of the tent, and which from its great weight would probably withstand the force of the current, was hauled closer to the tents and ropes securely attached to the wheels. By these ropes it was proposed to fasten the ladies and the servant to the gun, and in this way should the streams not rise too high above the knoll their lives might be saved. The colored girl Eliza, who was devoted to her mistress and who had been amid scenes of great danger, was on this occasion invaluable. Eliza had quite a history before she visited the plains, formerly a slave, but set free by the war she had accompanied me as cook during the last three years of the war. Twice taken prisoner by the confederates she each time made her escape and refound me. She was present at almost every prominent battle of the army of the Potomac, accompanied by command on all raids and winter marches, and upon more than one occasion during the progress of a battle, Eliza might be seen near the front, earnestly engaged in preparing a cup of coffee for the officers at the headquarters, who, but for her, would have gone through the day dinnerless. I have seen her remain by the camp cook fire when the enemy shells were bursting overhead to such an extent that men who were similarly employed deserted their station and sought shelter in the rear. There were few officers or soldiers in the cavalry corps from General Sheridan Downe, with whom Eliza was not a great favorite. All had a pleasant word for her, and few had not at some time or another cause to remember her kindness. When the water finally approached close to the tent, Eliza marked its progress from time to time by placing a small stake at the waterline. How anxiously the gradual rise of the deterrent must have been watched. At last when all hope seemed almost exhausted, the waters were stayed in their progress, and soon the great joy of the little party besieged began to recede. It was still dark, but so rapidly did the volume of water diminish as rapidly it had accumulated that a few hours after daylight a safe passage was affected to the mainland. With the exception of those of the six soldiers, no lives were lost, although many narrow escapes were made. In the morning daylight showed the Post Hospital, a stone building surrounded by an unfortable stream, the water rushing through the doors and windows, the patients had managed to climb up upon the roof, and could be seen by the officers and men on the mainland. No boats were to be had, but no class of men are so full of expedience as soldiers. The beds of some governed wagons were hastily removed, the canvas covers were stretched under the bottoms, and in this way a temporary kind of pontoon was constructed which answered the desired purpose, and by means of which the beleaguered patients were soon released. The officer in command of the infantry, Major Merriman, was occupying a tent with his wife near the main camp, finding himself cut off from the main land, but before the water had attained its greatest depth, he took his wife in his arms and forted the stream which ran between his tent and the bluff, and in this manner reached a point of safety. It is remarkable, however, that within two years from the date of this occurrence, the same officer with his wife and child encountered a similar free-shet in Texas, hundreds of miles from this locality, and in that watery grave which was so narrowly avoided in Kansas, awaited the mother and child in Texas. Of the circumstances of the storm at Fort Hayes, I was necessarily ignorant until weeks later. Soon, after midnight, everything being in readiness and my little party having been refreshed by a cup of good army coffee, it only remained to say adieu to those who were to remain behind, and we were ready for our moonlight gallop. But little was said as we made our way rapidly over the plain in the direction taken by the command. Occasionally, as we dashed across the ravine, we would suddenly come upon a herd of antelope, or a few scattering buffaloes, startling them from their response and causing them to wonder what was the occasion, and who the strange party is disturbing the peaceful quiet of the night in this unusual manner. On the speed our good steeds snuffing the early morning air, and pressing forward as eagerly as if they knew their companions were awaiting them in the advance. Daylight had given us no evidence of its coming when after a ride of nearly twenty miles we found ourselves descending into the valley in which we knew the command must be encamped. The moon had disappeared before the horizon, and we were left to make our way aided by such light as the stars twinkling in a clear sky afforded us. Our horses gave us unmistakable evidence that camp was near, to convince us beyond all doubt the clear ringing notes of the bugle sounded the revelry greeting our ears as directed by the sound we soon found ourselves in camp. The cavalry camp immediately after revelry always presents an animated and most interesting scene. As soon as the rolls are called and the reports of absentees made to headquarters, the men of the companies, with the exception of the cooks, are employed in the care of the horses. The later are fed and while eating are thoroughly groomed by the men under the superintendents of their officers. Nearly an hour is devoted to this important duty. In the meanwhile the company cooks, tend each company, and the officer's servants are busily engaged preparing breakfast, so that within a few minutes after the horses have been received in proper attention breakfast is ready, and being simple it requires but little time to dispose of it. Immediately after breakfast the first bugle call indicates of the march is the general, and is the signal for tends to be taken down and everything packed in readiness for moving. A few minutes later this is followed by the bugler at headquarters sounding boots and saddles. When horses are saddled up and the wagon trains put in readiness for pulling out, five minutes later two horses sounded, and the men of each company lead their horses into line, each trooper standing at the head of his horse. At the words, prepare to mount, from the commanding officer each trooper places his left foot in the stirrup, and at the command of mount every man rises on a stirrup and places himself in the saddle, the whole command presenting the appearance to the eye of a huge machine propelled by one power. Woe betide the unfortunate trooper who through carelessness or inattention fails to place himself in the saddle simultaneously with his companions. If he is not for this offense against military rule deprived of the services of his horse during the succeeding half-days march he escapes luckily. As soon as the command is mounted the advance is sounded and the troops usually in the columns of fours moves out. The company leading the advance one day march in rear the following day. This success of changing gives each company an opportunity to march by regular turn in advance. On average daily march when it is not immediate pursuit of an enemy was about 25 miles. Upon reaching in the evening the horses were cared for as in the morning opportunities being given them to graze before dark. Pickets were posted and every precaution adopted to guard against surprise. Our second day's march brought us to the Saline River which we encamped for the night. From our campground we could see on an old some two miles distant a platform or scaffold erected which resembled somewhat one of our war signal stations. Curious to discover its purpose I determined to visit it. Taking with me calm stock and a few soldiers I soon reached the point and discovered that the object of my curiosity and surprise was an Indian grave. The body instead of being consigned to Mother Earth was placed on top of the platform. The ladder was constructed of saplings and was about 20 feet in height. From calm stock I learned that with some of the tribes this is the usual mode of displaying of the body after death. The prevailing belief of the Indian is that when done with this world the spirit of the deceased is transferred to the happy hunting ground where he is permitted to engage in the same pleasures and pursuits which he preferred while on earth. To this end it is deemed essential that after death a departed must be supplied with the same equipment and ornaments considered necessary while in the flesh. In this accordance with this belief a complete Indian outfit depending in extent upon the rank and importance of the deceased is prepared and consigned with the body to the final resting place. The body found on this occasion must have been that of a son of some important chief. It was not full grown but accompanied with all the arms and adornments usually owned by a warrior. There was a bowl and a quiver full of steel pointed arrows, a tomahawk and a scalping knife, and a red clay pipe, and a small bag full of tobacco. In order that the departed spirit should not be wholly dependent upon friends after his arrival at the happy hunting ground he had been supplied with provisions consisting of small parcels of containing coffee, sugar, and bread. Weapons of modern structure had also been furnished him, a revolver and rifle with powder and ball ammunition for each, and a saddle, bridle, and lariat for his pony. Added to these was a supply of wearing apparel embracing every article known in an Indian's toilet, not accepting the various colored paints to be used in decorating himself in war. A handsome buckskin scalping pocket profusely ornamented with beads completed the outfit. But for fear that white women's scalps might not be readily obtainable and desiring no doubt to be received at once as a warrior who in his own country at least was not without renown, a white woman's scalp was also considered as a necessary accompaniment, a letter of introduction to the dusky warriors and chieftains who had gone before. As the Indian of the planes is himself, only when on horseback, provisions must be made for mounting him properly in the Indian heaven. To accomplish this the favorable war pony is led beneath the platform on which the body of the warriors placed at rest, and then strangled to death. No signs indicating the recent presence of Indians were discovered by our scouts until we neared the Republican River, where the trail of a small war party was discovered running down one of the tributaries of the Republican. After following it far enough to determine the futility of pursuit, the attempt was relinquished. Upon crossing the Republican we suddenly came in full view of about a hundred mounted warriors who, without waiting for a parlay of any kind, sent off as fast as their horses could carry them. One squadron was sent in pursuit, but was unable to overhaul the Indians. From the tracks we learned that the Indians were mounted on horses stolen from the stage company. The horses were of superior quality and purchased by the company at a price about double that paid by the government. This was the only occasion on which we saw Indians before reaching the Platte River. One of our camps was pitched on the banks of a small stream, which had been named Beaver Creek. Comstock informed us that here an opportunity could be had of killing a few beavers, as they were very numerous, all along the stream, which had derived its name from the fact. We had gone into camp about 3 p.m. The numerous stumps and fallen trees, as well as the beaver dams, attested the accuracy of Comstock's statement. By his advice, we waited until sundown before taking our stations on the bank, not far above the site of our camp, as at this time the beaver would be out and on shore. Placing ourself under Comstock's guidance, a small party proceeded to the ground selected, where we were distributed singularly at stations along the stream, and quietly raided the appearance of the beaver. Whether the noise from the camp below or the passing of hunting parties of soldiers in the afternoon had frightened them, I know not. I remained at my station with my rifle in hand ready to fire at the first beaver, which should offer itself as a sacrifice, until the sun had disappeared and darkness had begun to spread its heavy mantle over everything around me. No living thing had thus far disturbed my reveries. My station was on the immediate bank of the stream, on a path which had evidently been made by wild animals of some kind. The bank rose above me to a distance of nearly 20 feet. I was just at the point of leaving my station and giving up all hope of getting a shot, when I heard the rustling of the long dry grass a few yards lower down the stream. Cocking my rifle, I stood ready to deliver its contents into the approaching animal, which I presumed would have been seen to be a beaver as soon as it should emerge from the tall grass. It did not make its appearance in the path in which I stood until within a few feet of me, when to my great surprise I beheld instead of a beaver an immense wildcat. It was difficult to say which of us was the most surprised. Without delaying long to think I took a heasty aim and fired, the next moment I heard a splash which relieved my mind as to which of us should retain the right of way on shore, the path being too narrow to admit our passing of each other. I had either wounded or killed a wildcat, and its body in the darkness had been carried down with the current as the dogs which were soon attracted from the camp by my shot were unable to find the trail on either bank. Nothing occurred to break the monotony of our march until we reached Fort McPherson on the Platte River. The country over which we had marched had been quite varied in its character, and as we neared the Platte it became very broken and abrupt. It was only by availing ourselves of calm stock superior knowledge of the country that we found an easy exit from the deep canyons and rough defiles which we were encountered. At Fort McPherson we refilled our wagons with supplies and rations and forage. At the same time in accordance with my instructions I reported by telegraph my arrival to General Sherman, who was then farther west of the line of the Union Pacific Road. He did not materially change my instructions further than to direct me to remain near Fort McPherson until his arrival, which would be in the course of a few days. Moving my command about twelve miles from the fort I arranged for a council with Pawnee Killer and a few other suit chiefs who had arrived at the Platte about the same time as my command. My object was, if possible, to induce Pawnee Killer and his band with such other Indians as might choose to join them to bring their lodges into the vicinity of the fort and remain at peace with the Whites. Pawnee Killer and his chiefs met me in council and the subject was discussed but with no positive conclusions. While protesting strongly in favor of preserving peaceful relations with us the subsequent conduct of the chiefs only confirmed the suspicion that they had arranged the council not to perfect a friendly agreement with us but to spy out and discover if possible our future plans and movements. In this they were disappointed. Their numerous inquiries as to where we intended proceeding when we resumed the march were an availing. Desiring to leave nothing undone to encourage a friendly attitude on their part I gave the chiefs a parting with them liberal presence of coffee, sugar, and other articles gratifying to the taste of an Indian. They departed after giving utterance to the strongest expressions of their desire to live at peace with their white brothers and promise to collect their families and bring them in under protection of the fort and thus avoid becoming entangled in the ravages of an Indian war which now promised to become general throughout the plains. Pawnee Killer and his chiefs never attempted to keep their promises. General Sherman arrived at my camp the next day. He had no confidence in the faith of Pawnee Killer and his band and desired that a party be sent in pursuit at once and bring the chiefs back and retain a few of the prominent ones as hostages for the fulfillment of their agreement. This was decided to be impracticable. It was then judged best for me to move my command in a southwesternly direction to the forks of the republican and a section of the country usually infested by Indians and there endeavor to find the village of Pawnee Killer and compel him if necessary to move nearer to the fort so that we might distinguish between those who were friendly and those who were not. Besides, it was known that Cheyennes and Sioux whom we had pursued from the Arkansas along the Smoky Hill River had not crossed north of the Platte and they were rightly supposed to be located somewhere near the forks of the republican. I could reach this point in three days marching after leaving the Platte River on whose banks we were then in camp. Owing to the rough and broken character of the bluffs which bound the valley of the Platte on the south side, it was determined to march up the men about fifteen miles from the fort and strike south through an opening in the bluffs known as Jack Morrow's Canyon. General Sherman rode with us as far as this point where, after commending the Cheyennes and Sioux to us in his expressive manner, he baited us goodbye and crossed the river to the railroad station on the north side. Thus far we had no real Indian warfare. We were soon to experience it, attended by all its frightful