The Awakening Of The Desert Part 11

The official report gave the loss in killed and wounded by the Indians as 1137, or 36 Indians to each defender. In July, 1908, the old chief, Red Cloud, at the age of ninety years, met with General Carrington, and a few other survivors of the Wyoming command of 1866, upon those b.l.o.o.d.y Wyoming battlefields to review the scene of those conflicts.

As stated in the _St. Louis Globe Democrat_, and also by General Carrington, who again met Red Cloud on the battlefield in 1909, the old chief then admitted a loss of 1500 braves--and that was the result of the wagon box fight, possibly the most thrilling and disastrous Indian defeat of which we have any record. All this closely followed the Laramie treaty of July, 1866, to which reference has been made so repeatedly.

Thus the war ended. The pathway was opened for emigration to what was then more attractive territory further west, and there was removed one obstacle to the final development of Wyoming, which was still a part of the Great American Desert. These events are mentioned also to show the general condition of affairs in Wyoming while we and hundreds of other travelers were following its trails.

CHAPTER XVI

THE MORMON TRAIL

If while we were at our camp near Laramie on the bank of the North Platte we could have turned the wheels of time backward just nineteen years, we might have seen the first pioneer Mormon train in a long, straggling line slowly trekking across the trackless sands down the western slope that leads to the sh.o.r.e of that turbulent river, for this was the point where that band ferried the stream in a flat boat.

According to the description of the expedition given in the diary of William Clayton, who was one of the party, and in our personal interviews with other partic.i.p.ants, it was a promiscuous line of vehicles, seventy-two in all. Some of them were drawn each by two oxen, others by horses, and still others by mules. One hundred and forty-three men and boys and three women composed the party, the greater number being on foot. A few cows were driven in the rear. For seven weeks they had been pushing their way across the trackless plain, marking out the first white man's path that had been traced north of the Platte.

Their wagon tracks were followed year after year, chiefly by teams of Mormon emigrants, and came to be known as the Mormon trail. Some of these trains consisted in part of hand carts drawn by men and women struggling to reach the desert valley in the mountains. Nearly every curve in the course of this trail until near the junction of the North and South Platte Rivers was followed later by the Union Pacific Railway as originally laid, its ties along much of its course being placed in the tracks of the first Mormon wagons. The railroad in recent years has been appreciably straightened. The Mormon trail entered the Oregon trail at the point where our boys were camped. This Mormon pilgrimage, as described in Mormon annals that were kindly furnished me by Mr. Jensen (at one time their church historian) reads like the exodus of the Children of Israel through the deserts of Arabia; and Brigham Young was the Moses. On reaching the river at the point where we were camped, they were famishing with hunger. With the aid of a boat made of ox hides, they ferried some Oregon emigrants over the upper Platte in exchange for flour, which in their Thanksgiving service they described as manna sent from heaven. Fiery serpents were stated to have been encountered at various times, but later pilgrims have encountered nothing worse than rattlesnakes. They were surprised to find bitter waters along this unknown pathway, and their stock was suffering from thirst, but those who followed them found only alkali ponds, which indeed sometimes proved fatal to horses. They met hostile Indians, who were quite as much to be feared as were the giant sons of Anak, or the large-limbed Og of Bashan.

This movement of the Mormons marks an important epoch in the physical development of the vast deserts of the West. They were the first emigrants to plant a successful colony between the Missouri and the Pacific Coast. If there ever was an apparently hopeless desert, on which agriculture would seem to be utterly impracticable, it was that which lies around and west of the Great Salt Lake. The climate was arid, and the dry soil was loaded with alkaline salts, supposedly destructive to most vegetable life. Risking the hazards of famine in a venture hitherto untried, they solved the problem of arousing the latent energies of an acrid, sterile soil in an arid climate, and made the desert bloom.

True, the Babylonians and the Egyptians had practiced irrigation of rich, alluvial soils, but except as may be indicated by some ancient but now dry ditches toward our Mexican border, these Mormon colonists appear to be the first people to introduce a successful system of irrigation in this country; and this was the beginning of a new era for the Central West.

In the endeavor to describe what the early nation builders really did, rather than to attempt to show what they were, we note the fact that in these annals of this first Mormon expedition are recorded from time to time the lat.i.tude and longitude, also the elevation above sea level of various points of their journey, the approximate accuracy of which is confirmed by later official surveys. In reviewing another diary of that first journey I find mention on each Sabbath (with two exceptions) of a rest on the journey, with regular religious services; and for those two days the record is indefinite.

A road-meter was constructed in the early part of the journey, which recorded the distances traveled. The greater number of these emigrants were Yankees and would be sure to devise everything needed that was within the range of human ingenuity and of their limited resources. In spite, therefore, of their poverty, they were prepared to adopt the most advanced methods of agriculture known in any country at that day.

It was an agreeable change to leave the level lands of the Platte region and enter the rough and broken country that characterizes the approach to the mountains. On our left rose the Laramie range, its highest peak being a prominent object of interest to us during many days. Although we were gradually ascending toward the great Continental divide, there were, nevertheless, many steep descents to make, as our road traversed the great folds on the earth's surface. One morning, after toiling for miles up a long ascent we unexpectedly found ourselves on the brink of an exceedingly steep declivity where our trail suddenly dropped down nearly a thousand feet, by a frightful grade. We carefully considered the problem before us, for it was evident that even with the brakes set it would be impossible for the horses to hold the load behind them for so great a distance without finally losing control; and there was no resting place at any point down the long incline. The danger of a toboggan ride behind runaway horses was to be avoided. Our lightest wagon with a driver was prepared to start on the first trial. The wheels were locked, the felloes were wound with chains, and a drag rope was put out behind. Thus the wagon slowly ground its way downward until it disappeared beyond a curve far below in the valley. One wagon was run backward down a steep pitch, long ropes being used behind it, and was anch.o.r.ed from time to time to available objects.

Throughout this country there were evidences of great upheavals and faults in the rocks, the surface, as we crossed it, suddenly changing from clay to sandstone on edge within a rod of travel. Steep hills of sand alternated with others of clay or rock. For a distance of several miles a sheer precipice 80 to 100 feet in height rose from a valley on our left to a broad table-land which extended to the southward. At the foot of those cliffs I saw great numbers of buffalo skeletons. A freighter informed us that in the year 1850, he saw a band of Indians stampede a great herd of buffalo upon those uplands. Forming a line in the rear of the animals, the Indians rushed upon them with yells and rattles and inciting a panic drove the beasts over the rocky precipice where uncounted numbers were maimed or killed by their own great weight, and the impact of others which fell upon them from the heights above. I have watched the stampeding of many buffalo herds and have observed that almost invariably they run in compact ma.s.ses, like a flock of sheep.

Their heads being held very low, those not in front are unable to see anything beyond the hairy flanks of the animals immediately before them between which their noses are closely crowded. Their leaders in a stampede soon become leaders only in name, for they are pressed forward by the powerful monsters behind them, which, in a solid ma.s.s push everything forward, regardless of any pitfalls that may be in the way. A herd thus driven in a ma.s.s over such a cliff as we have described must have been like a vast Niagara of living, roaring, and bellowing monsters. At the foot of the precipice, when the work was done, there would lie piled high one above another in a deep windrow the quivering bodies of hundreds of buffalo. This explained the piles of buffalo skeletons at the foot of the cliffs. This method of capturing the buffalo was employed, because the Indians were able to sell the skins to the fur traders; and from the best information available it would appear that no more than four pounds of cheap brown sugar or its equivalent in some other commodity was regarded as a fair price for the trader to pay for a good, Indian-tanned robe.

The buffalo skeletons that had been left upon many parts of these vast hunting grounds remained until railroads penetrated the wilderness, when they were gathered and shipped by train loads, chiefly to St. Louis, to be used in the arts or to be converted into fertilizers.

Statistics are given in another chapter which show approximately the number of millions of skeletons thus a.s.sembled and shipped. It is a sad commentary on American improvidence to note the pa.s.sing in one generation of these valuable animals which, with their natural increase, had they been protected with reasonable care, were sufficiently numerous to have furnished our entire nation with meat for many generations to come. The white man, who is chiefly responsible for this wanton slaughter, is still relentlessly pursuing the few remaining elk, deer, and other harmless wild game.

On the day after leaving Laramie, one of my weeks of service as chef and general purveyor for the party terminated. The interesting affairs of the treaty had caused me in some degree to slight my responsibilities.

The day now in question was the day for beans, and they were really served quite raw. Although our teeth were sound, it was found difficult to crack the hard kernels. There were other members of our party who, during their service as cooks, had been the objects of occasional criticism, chiefly because of the hard, tough bread they had furnished.

It was now alleged by Pete that appet.i.tes had been in waiting for beans, and when they were served, some words were uttered that bordered on profanity; in general terms the cuisine of this particular occasion was characterized as d.a.m.nable. The bacon was said to be "all right," but the bread was as heavy as a cake of putty, and if the stuff was allowed to get between the teeth, a sharp instrument would be required to remove it. It was declared that the beans, to which they had been looking forward with great expectation, were like gravel, and if introduced into the stomach might require a surgical operation to remove them. "That's all right, Pete," I replied, "this is the wild and free life on the plains. We were told all about this business before we started. Even the Children of Israel, the chosen people, lived for a long time in the wilderness on bread that had never been cooked. Of course they grumbled just as everybody grumbles who want the same old stuff they had when they were babies in Egypt." Pete a.s.sured me with great earnestness that he was not an Israelite, that in his opinion my talk was all ridiculous nonsense; and dramatically pointing to the old black kettle that rested over the smouldering fire he said with a marked emphasis on each word, "_I speak now of those beans_."

After this definite particularization of the point at issue, there was a pause. The coffee had been disposed of and two or three of the boys wandered off to look after their horses. Pete, who was bent upon the inauguration of a reform, indicated his desire to make a few post-prandial remarks, whereupon those who remained gathered round the dying embers of the sage brush fire. The dirty, half empty tin plates still remained upon the ground, and while the party were seated, Pete rose to his feet as if with the determination to deliver his words with vigor and effect. Then with compressed lips and a look of earnestness upon his face, he pointed again to the old kettle in which some beans still simmered, and proceeded with his diatribe.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SAGE BRUSH GROWTH]

"Boys, I want to say a word about beans, yes, about those beans right there in that kettle. Beans are getting d.a.m.n scarce, and the first thing we know, our beans will all be gone and we ain't had any, and can't get any. Now, I like beans and am hungry, but I don't like 'em raw and," with a vigorous expletive, "I won't stand it."

Now Pete's life had been spent largely in a country hotel. When I mildly replied that our cooking in general compared very favorably with that of some articles which I had seen served on the table of that hotel, Pete's indignation was still more aroused. I had been sitting as quietly as possible upon a box, but it suddenly became evident that my comfort and possibly my safety depended upon a change of base, for Pete was a powerful fellow and several years my senior. Moreover, I regarded my head as of far greater importance than my reputation as a sage brush cook, nor did I relish the thought of being buried in Wyoming simply to afford momentary gratification to a traveling companion, who had found no pleasure in half-cooked beans. And now came Dan Trippe in the _role_ of mediator.

"Pete, you're densely ignorant," said Dan, as he also rose to his feet and faced Pete. "Don't you know that water boils at 212 degrees at sea level? In this high alt.i.tude it hardly gets hot when it boils. Any intelligent man knows that it can be made no hotter in the open air than boiling point. It requires hot water to boil beans. The head cook of the Astor house couldn't boil beans satisfactorily up here. I couldn't do it myself."

Pete was visibly impressed with this profound philosophical statement, and with the wonders of the West, and after Dan had fully elaborated his theory, seemed to be convinced that the reasoning was possibly correct.

After a minute of cogitation apparently in the endeavor to comprehend the argument, Pete slowly replied, "It's all right, boys, but no more high-alt.i.tude-cooked beans for me." Taking his tin plate with what remained upon it, without comment, he conveyed it to one of his horses, and the incident was closed. The boys, each of whom had at times failed to secure satisfactory results in cooking, were really amused by the discussion, for they realized that even experts under the most favorable conditions sometimes fail to please fastidious appet.i.tes. Conditions arising in one's experience in a rough vagrant life, are calculated to bring to the surface previously unknown qualities in human nature. Pete would at any time divide his last good biscuit with another, or stand ready to defend a companion to the end, but he was now desperately hungry. Happily our party was, in general, harmonious.

Throughout this country the same names are often applied to various distinct objects. On one evening we camped at one of the so-called Horse Shoe Creeks, a bright and sparkling stream. In that vicinity wild game was abundant. A few soldiers, who occupied a cabin nearby, had on that day dragged to their camp the huge body of a fine grizzly bear, which they had killed. After its skin was removed I a.s.sisted in dissecting some portions of the animal and in that operation became especially interested in the wonderful muscles of one of its arms. These were an indication of the herculean strength which these formidable beasts possess. The arm itself was much larger than would be believed from a judgment formed on seeing the animal in all its perfect proportions. Its muscles were not only remarkably large, but they were so tense and firm that with a keen knife it was difficult to sever them.

The soldiers stated that recently a grizzly had been brought to bay some distance south of their cabin, and after receiving several bullets from large calibre rifles it fell upon its side and lay motionless. The opinion was that at least one bullet had reached a vital spot. Knowing, however, that the grizzly bear has wonderful vitality, unequalled perhaps by any other wild beast, one of the party as a precaution hastened to their cabin and unleashed three powerful dogs, which returned with the soldier. The dogs were soon barking, howling and dashing round the rec.u.mbent monster in the most excited manner, keeping somewhat at a distance, but not a movement nor sign of life was discovered in the wounded animal. Becoming bolder and perhaps encouraged by the men and by each other, the dogs approached closer toward the head of the grizzly, while they continued to bark and snap their teeth, keeping their eyes at all times upon the enemy. They were almost near enough to take the coveted nip with their teeth, when suddenly and unexpectedly even to the men, the grizzly made two or three quick motions with one paw which to all appearances were as soft and gentle as would be made by a kitten. Each of the dogs was thrown several feet and killed instantly by a little tap with that paw. The grizzly had not lifted his head from the ground, but there remained in him enough life, with his tremendous strength and celerity of motion, still to do a vast amount of damage if given an opportunity. Bear hunters have learned that it is not safe to trifle with a grizzly until sure that its last breath of life is gone.

It was after leaving Horseshoe that I ran across an acquaintance, who with two companions had been hunting in Colorado. All were witnesses and vouched for the truth of the story then told me. My friend had the reputation of having brought down nearly every kind of game in the West, but had long grieved because he had been unable to corner a grizzly.

Finally one autumn day while the three were hunting in a narrow, wooded gorge, they observed their dogs to be in a state of great trepidation, which led them to discover two magnificent specimens of _Ursus Horribilis_, but a few rods away, a sight which they had previously supposed would cause their hearts to leap with joy. The great beasts on being discovered rose simultaneously upon their hind feet and stood side by side facing the hunters. Their mouths, as if inclined to smile, were slightly open, displaying sets of superb white teeth. The expression on their countenances was one combining dignity and perfect self-confidence. The hunters declared to me that although eight feet might be a fair estimate, the animals appeared to them to be forty feet in height. And there they were--two magnificent specimens of an animal which for strength, ferocity, and endurance combined, probably has no equal. The dogs were quite in the background but it was certain that something was likely to happen in the near future if an attack should be made. The hunter frankly confessed that he said to his companions, "I've been hunting for a grizzly for months. I've found two and only wanted one. Let's go home." The dogs were well out of the valley before the hunters lost sight of the bears.

On leaving Fort Laramie our train as usual became separated from the others, but we soon found ourselves in company with some emigrants coming from the middle states. Among them were several comparatively young, married people, also three or four young women. Some of these emigrants were destined to Montana, to cast their fortunes in that new country, which none of them had ever seen. They appeared to be a vigorous, intelligent, and in some instances cultured company of men and women, worthy and well-fitted to establish a new settlement. They were taking with them cows, chickens, and a more complete supply of household comforts than we saw at any other time on our travels. We understood that their purpose was to adopt the Mormon method of farming by irrigation. One of the young women was intending to establish a school for the little colony.

One evening after a pleasant interview with some members of the company, one of the young men brought us a pail of milk as a token of good will.

A bouquet of roses is without doubt an acceptable gift to one who is surfeited with all that appeals to the appet.i.te, but after having survived two months upon fried bacon and tough bread, one's stomach becomes wonderfully responsive to some of the staple, commonplace luxuries to which it was once accustomed. This incident led us to "warm up" very closely to the party with the cows.

On the following day our two parties came up with a large mule outfit known as Kuykendall's train. Its captain, who was familiar with the country, informed us that if we desired to go by the South Pa.s.s we were on the wrong trail, that the one which we were now taking was known as the "cut off" and soon trended to the North. We must return to Horseshoe Creek. It was then discovered that the emigrants represented two parties, one of which also decided to go by the South Pa.s.s. The entire train was halted for re-organization, after which those who were to retrace their course turned their teams toward the east and ranged them along side by side with the main body.

Travelers often remember with great pleasure the pa.s.sing acquaintance of those who have been agreeable companions for a brief time in foreign travel on the luxurious steamers upon the ocean, or on the Nile; and possibly even more interesting might such acquaintance become in lands outside the beaten paths pursued by one's own countrymen. This, however, can hardly compare with the profound interest and concern that one feels toward the companions of a wandering life in the wilderness, where travelers are held together for mutual support and protection. Thus it was on our separation from this party of emigrants and the train of freighters, whose trying ordeal was soon to come. Some of the members promised to communicate with us at Salt Lake City and inform us concerning their trip. With expressions of mutual good will and hopes for each other's safety, we parted and moved on in opposite directions, while slowly the unpitying distance widened between us.

"One ship drives East, another drives West, While the self-same breezes blow; 'Tis the set of the sails, and not the gales That bids them where to go."

It may be stated here that the emigrant party did communicate with us.

It was not many weeks after our arrival in Salt Lake, that two of the young men came to that city and informed us that after we turned back they had moved on in advance of the big mule train and near the close of the day after we separated and while their wagons were corralled in camp, they were surrounded by savages. Being well armed, they resisted a prolonged attack. Every animal they had was captured and run off by the Indians. The party was relieved by a detachment of mounted soldiers who, through some agency to them unknown, had learned that they were in trouble. The women pa.s.sed through the ordeal bravely, fighting side by side with their husbands and brothers, well knowing what capture would mean to them. After but little loss of life they were enabled to move their wagons by consolidation with the other outfit, which had a similar experience. This attack took place on the 15th of July after a.s.surances from the post sutler and others at Fort Laramie that the Indians were satisfied and no trouble need be expected. Red Cloud and his band, scattered through that country, were on the warpath.

Our party, in company with the emigrants who had decided to retrace their steps on reaching the proper trail, proceeded onward toward the west. The road was rough with many steep inclines but there were fine streams like LaBonte and LaParelle, which afforded welcome camp grounds.

Although the days were hot and clear, the nights were cool, and the two parties naturally gravitated toward each other around the camp fires.

The younger travelers fortunately found others of a similar age. Three young ladies, ranging in age from eighteen to twenty-two years, were a rare sight in that country. But they were with us, and living in a manner that indicated they had been accustomed to many of the good things of a well-ordered home. The most luxurious banquet in which I was permitted to share in those days was spread one evening before our bacon and coffee had been served. Some liberal slices of peach pie were sent to us from our neighbor's camp--dried peach pie, of course, but _peach pie_ nevertheless. Fast for weeks on dried paste and bacon sc.r.a.ps; travel every day from morning till night over difficult roads; and then in the cool of some evening, when hungry and empty, receive a peach pie made by a woman who knows how to make it, and you know what a banquet really means. As it was said to have been the first occasion during their trip on which they had undertaken to prepare this kind of pastry, we recognized the event as a special dispensation. Fred was absent from the train on the following day for an unusual length of time, and sufficiently long almost to cause uneasiness on our part, but when I saw him come in with an antelope over his saddle, I knew the girls in the other camp would have the choicest cut of antelope steak for breakfast.

In time, after climbing over hills and traversing rough prairies, we reached Fort Caspar, near which was the only bridge across the North Platte River. On receiving orders that we should not be permitted to proceed beyond the west valley until the regulation number of wagons and men had been a.s.sembled, we were allowed to cross. A toll of five dollars per wagon enabled us to reach the other sh.o.r.e. We pa.s.sed on three-fourths of a mile beyond the bridge, where the parties separated and camped.

CHAPTER XVII

WILD MIDNIGHT REVELRY IN THE CASPAR HILLS

There are spots in foreign lands, the objects of never-failing interest because of some heroic deeds with which they are a.s.sociated, the memory of which has been perpetuated in history. Our camp near Caspar happened to be pitched upon a spot glorified by the blood of heroes as brave and patriotic as the Spartans who fell at Thermopylae. The desperate conflict of our soldiers upon this Wyoming field against overwhelming numbers was hardly less dramatic than was that of the Greeks and well deserves an honored place in the memory of Americans. Hardly two rods from our camp there stood a little monument marking the spot where a few months prior to our visit Lieutenant Caspar W. Collins and his little band were slain while voluntarily making a valorous and almost hopeless effort to save the lives of a score of comrades, in the face of thousands of desperate and blood-thirsty savages. Although we had some previous knowledge of this tragedy, our first impulse was to recross the river to the post and from eye witnesses learn the particulars of the thrilling battle. As soon as our supper was eaten, four of our party started down stream toward the bridge. The post formerly known as Platte Bridge had now, in recognition of Collins' valorous deed, been named Fort Caspar, by order of Major General Pope commanding.

The range near-by was also named the Caspar Mountains. The post lay near the southern bank of the North Platte River, 133 miles above Fort Laramie and less than a mile below the site of the monument. It consisted of fifteen or twenty structures built on the sides of an open quadrangle.

Sauntering along the river bank on our way to the post, we carefully surveyed the scene of the fight and its environment. Back of the fort, at no great distance from the stream, lay a high table-land, its abrupt and barren face, where it rose from the valley, being creased with wrinkled folds by erosion. Beyond this and further to the south the Caspar range of mountains stood out in jagged outlines against a cloudless Wyoming sky. Seen through the pure and wonderfully transparent air, and illuminated by the bright light of the setting sun, the distant deeply-wooded gorges and rocky peaks seemed hardly a mile away. Toward the north and embracing the battle-field the valley extends back a short distance to a steep ascent, beyond which is a rough, broken, elevated region that might afford concealment to a numerous enemy. Where it is crossed by the bridge, the river is about 100 yards in width. Crossing it, we soon found ourselves among officers and soldiers; and from those of them who had guarded that structure during the ma.s.sacre we learned the story, parts of it from some and parts from others. It came in detached and thrilling fragments, for the incidents were still fresh in their memory, and the thrills they had experienced on the day of the fight were renewed in their vigorous narration. We were informed that the death of Lieutenant Collins and his men was but one, though doubtless the most dramatic, in a series of Indian ma.s.sacres that ensanguined that fatal trail during the few preceding months. I have heard descriptions of several of these events from eyewitnesses.

Lieutenant Collins was born in Hillsboro, Ohio, and at the time of the fight was in appearance but a youth and in fact only twenty years of age. He was a son of Lieutenant-Colonel Collins, a brave Indian fighter, in honor of whom Fort Collins in Colorado was named. Young Collins had been in the Indian country for three years preceding his last fight, a portion of the time with James Bridger. As we stood looking across the river toward the plain where the battle was fought, one of the officers said: "Last July Indians in great numbers seemed to be gathering just north of the bridge somewhere in those hills on the other side of the river. They came in there from various directions. Many of them were supposed to have come over from the Bitter Creek country, where nearly every station on that route had been raided. It was impossible to form any definite idea of their number, except that we were certain there were many thousands of them near us. On July 25th, Lieutenant Collins came in from the East. On the same day several hundred savages crossed the river and stampeded the stock on the reservation. The garrison at the post was exceedingly small and although the loss of even a few men would be a serious matter, a small party of cavalry and infantry was sent out to recover the stock if possible. This effort simply resulted in the loss of a few men on each side. The Indians finally recrossed the river to their rendezvous in the hills. Just about day-break on the following morning a few men from the 11th Ohio cavalry came in from Fort Laramie and at once reported a train of wagons with a small guard from the 11th Kansas cavalry as coming from the west and, as they must pa.s.s along the trail at the foot of the hills among which the Indians were holding their vigils, they were sure to be attacked. And now came the critical moment. The men in the post were quickly called to headquarters. It was at once decided to send out a detachment of twenty-five men, in the feeble hope that they might accomplish a rescue.

In casting about for a leader for this hazardous venture, one after another declined the service. Lieutenant Collins, although he had just arrived, offered himself at the first opportunity, saying, "I will undertake the task, if I can have a good, fresh horse, as mine is badly f.a.gged from my ride." The Lieutenant appeared to be but a boy, but he had a known record for bravery and endurance. Major Howard accepted the volunteer, and although some of the older soldiers openly discouraged the undertaking, the young leader quickly mounted a fresh, spirited horse and in the early morning, at the head of his little body of mounted men, rapidly galloped over the bridge, followed more slowly by thirty infantry. Caspar's band had not proceeded more than three-fourths of a mile, when the hills on both sides of it were suddenly alive with savages, who in thousands rushed down the slopes and out from every ravine, closing in upon the detachment with hideous howls and yells, "as if all the devils of the infernal regions had been turned loose." At this point, the men who knew the story pointed dramatically now in one direction and now in another, to the actual places where these movements occurred. "A desperate but hopeless hand-to-hand fight was described as having taken place right over the river, in plain sight from the post.

The infantry halted because they were already in the battle, pouring their bullets as rapidly as possible into the savages. The only big gun at the fort was quickly brought into action by the guard left at the post, and did good service, as its sh.e.l.ls reached the enemy across the river. Some of our men detailed to guard the bridge held their positions and brought many Indians low. But the great Chief Red Cloud was over there, and could be seen rushing across the field as if to inspire his red warriors to annihilate our men, and, as far as the cavalry, which was at the front, was concerned, they practically did it."