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The plain extended about 1,000 yards north and east, at which distance there arose a ridge, and behind that, at perhaps the same distance, another ridge. We could see our late assailants scampering like deer, their fleet ponies carrying them as fast as the wind up the first ascent, where they turned and fired. Our whole line replied, and the boys rushed forward with a yell. The Sioux gave us another salute, the balls going about 100 feet above our heads, and skedaddled to the bluff

      WAR-PATH AND BIVOUAC

      further back. There, nothing less than a long-range cannon could reach them, and we could pursue them no farther, as the place was all rocks and ravines, in which the advantage lay with the red warriors. The latter showed themselves, at that safe distance, on the east of the ridge, and appeared to take delight in displaying their equestrian accomplishments. I borrowed a field-glass and had a look at them. Not more than a dozen were in view, although at least fifty must have fired upon us in the first place. Those that I saw were dressed in a variety of costumes. One fellow wore what seemed to be a tin helmet, with a horse-hair plume. Another chap wore a " war bonnet," but most of them had the usual eagle feathers. To say the truth, they did not seem very badly scared, although they got out of the way with much celerity when they saw us coming in force. Our firing having completely ceased, we could hear other firing on the south side of the river, far to the left, where the 2d Cavalry had their pickets. This, we subsequently learned, was caused by a daring attempt made by the Indians to cross a ford at that point and take the camp in rear, with the object of driving off the herd. They failed signally, and lost one man killed and some wounded. Whether our party killed any of the Sioux I don't know. They did their best, which is all that could be asked of them.

      Our casualties were comparatively few, owing to the prompt action of Mills' battalion, but quite sufficient to cure skeptics of the idea that there were no hostiles in the neighborhood. After the Indians retired, Mills' men were withdrawn to camp, and the bluff was garrisoned by Captain

      OR THE CONQUEST OF THE SIOUX

      Rawolle's company of the 2d Cavalry, who had a most miserable experience, as they did not bring their tents to the other side and had to endure "in the open" a pitiless rainfall all through the night. The evident object of the savages was to "set us on foot" by stampeding our herd.

      Many ludicrous stories grew out of this skirmish, and one in particular deserves to be recorded. During the tiring, the pipe of Colonel Mills' tent stove had been perforated, greatly to the horror of his colored servant, who was by no means in love with grim-visaged war. The correspondent of a Southern paper—an officer by the way—recorded the fact, and his paper, taking a practical view of the statement, came out in a wise editorial and condemned the colonel's rashness in wearing a stove-pipe hat in the field! When the paper finally reached us, everybody laughed immoderately, and Mills didn't hear the last of that "stove pipe" for a long time.

      General Crook began to grow restive under the continued absence of the friendly Indians, and, not liking his position on Tongue river, moved his command, through a fairly fertile country, to Goose, or Wildgoose, creek, about fourteen miles from the scene of the Indian attack and repulse. The creek which bears a name so undignified is really a fine mountain stream, having two branches, known as Big and Little Goose creek, which, diverging near the foothills of the Big Horn, finally come together and empty themselves into the copious waters of Tongue river. This was a thoroughly delightful camping ground, well wooded, watered and supplied with game, while the scenery was all that

      WAR-PATH AND BIVOUAC

      could be asked for. That fine region, then terrorized by the war parties of the Sioux and shunned by the Caucasian race, is now thickly settled, and several thriving hamlets have been built on the sites of our old encampments. Herds innumerable now feed where only the buffalo roamed as late as 1876. We got into camp in a pelting rain, which, however, speedily ceased, and the weather became delightful.

      CHAPTER VII.

      INDIANS IN WAR PAINT

      Just as we began to give up all hope of ever again seeing our scouts or hearing from our Indian allies, Frank Gruard and Louis Richard, accompanied by a gigantic Crow chief, came into camp at noon on the 14th, and, amid the cheers of the soldiers, rode direct to the General's headquarters. I proceeded there at once and had an interview with the celebrated scout, Gruard, who is half a Frenchman and half a Sandwich Islander. He was brought to this country from Honolulu when a mere boy; ran the mail for the government on the Pacific coast for some years, and, when only nineteen years old, was captured by Crazy Horse's band of Sioux. The chief spared the young man's life, and he lived in the Indian village, having espoused a handsome squaw, for some years. A misunderstanding with his wife's relatives made the village too hot for him, and, being allowed comparative liberty, he took the very earliest opportunity of taking "French leave." He was then about twenty-eight years of age, was familiar with every inch of the country, could speak nearly every Indian dialect, and was invaluable to General Crook, who would rather have lost a third of his command, it is said, than be deprived of Frank Gruard. The scout told the writer that he and his companions had had a hard time of it since they left Fort

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      Reno to search for the Crows. A band of Sioux got sight of them the second day out, and chased them into the mountains. They eluded their pursuers, and, after four days' hard riding, reached the Big Horn river, which they had to swim with their horses. A few miles from that stream they saw an Indian village, full of women and warriors. The latter to the number of about 300, charged down upon them, mounted on ponies. The scouts had a river between them and the Indians—a small river, but sufficient to insure their safe retreat. The red men fired upon them without effect, and then Gruard, by their large, bushy heads, entirely different from the trimmer Sioux, recognized the Crows. He immediately shouted to them in their own language, and very soon the three scouts were in their midst, saluted by a storm of "Hows!" Then they learned that five Crow scouts had started to find our camp. It was this party that attempted to speak to us from Tongue river bluffs previously, but when Arnold spoke Sioux they became alarmed, suspecting a trap, and retreated. They would have come in only that Gruard told them we were going to camp on Goose creek. They saw us leave 'Fort Phil. Kearney, but when we took the Tongue river road they concluded we were not the party they were looking for, and turned back. Gruard soon set matters right, and before many hours had nearly 200 warriors ready for the road.

      They were, he said, within ten miles of our camp, but, with true Indian caution, declined to come in until perfectly assured that it would be a safe proceeding. Baptiste Fourier had remained behind with the Indians to give them con-

      OR THE CONQUEST OF THE SIOUX

      fidence. Five Snake, or Sho-sho-ne, scouts, sent from their tribe at Sweetwater valley to notify the Crows that they were coming to help us and should be treated as friends, were with the party. Louis Richard, the Indian scout, and Major Burt went back for the Crows. We waited impatiently for their arrival. At six o'clock a picket galloped into camp to notify Crook that his allies were in sight.

      Then we saw a grove of spears and a crowd of ponies upon the northern heights, and there broke upon the air a fierce, savage whoop. The Crows had come in sight of our camp, and this was their mode of announcing their satisfaction. We went down to the creek to meet them, and a picturesque tribe they were. Their horses—nearly every man had an extra pony—were little beauties, and neighed shrilly at their American brethren, who, unused to Indians, kicked, plunged and reared in a manner that threatened a general stampede. "How! How!" the Crows shouted to us, one by one, as they filed past. When near enough, they extended their hands and gave ours a hearty shaking. Most of them were young men, many of whom were handsomer than some white people I have met. Three squaws were there on horseback—wives of the chiefs.

      The head sachems were "Old Crow," "Medicine Crow," "Feather Head," and "Good Heart," all deadly enemies of the Sioux. Each man wore a gaily colored mantle, handsome leggings, eagle feathers, and elaborately worked moccasins. In addition to their carbines and spears, they carried the primeval bow and arrow. Their hair was long, but gracefully tied up and gorgeously plumed. Their features,

      WAR-PATH AND BIVOUAC

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