The Bozeman weekly chronicle. (Bozeman, Mont.) 1883-1889, 1885-11-04
The Lasf Hard lack .


The Last Hardiack.
aVe ! lsle Il ]. J0hns Il slsas
The above thrilling invitation was ut
tered bY Whoopup Potter
The cavalry advance Of Gen. Howard't
army had just biVouaced on the shore o
a small lake between the Missouri river
and the Bear Paw mourtains-a region
generally known as the Whoop-up coun.
try, on account of every white outfit that
had ever gone in there being whooped
up By hostile Indians.
The First Cavalry boys had week be-
fore saddled up their jaded horses and
turned toward their home posts in the
Department of the Columbia while yet
the Rocky mountain passes were not
blocked with winters SHOWS. The bright
October morning they commenced their
homeward march from the Judith basin
was followed by four days of cold, soak
ing rain, which put the Bad Lands mud
in the proper condition to dish out the
rheumatism which still clings to many
of those campaigners.
So the little army spreading its blank
cts on the shore of the Northern Mon
tana lake consisted of about 800 troopers
of Clusters cavalry-Custer's the year
before, he and the main body of the old
9TH having been killed by the Sioux war
riors on the Rosebud, and now in this
Chief Joseph campaign of II, Clusters
old regiment re organized was under
command of Gen. Sturgis.
Quickly the boys had tied no their
horses short to the long company ropes,
and slowly the staEle guard paced mp
and down the lines. Quickly the troop
ers were disposing OF their suppers, for
there was very little grub to dispose
of. In many messes the last hardtack
was brought out and eaten in the true
trooper style of let tomorrow &C to the
devil.
Up the edge of the lake quarter Of a
mile nearer the enemy small outfit Of
volunteer scouts were cooking the choice
cuts from the hump of buffalo shot
that day, and the piece of dogtent table
cloth was Iuxuriously set of by three tin
cups, coffee-pot and solitary hard
tack. As the dense but net particularly
unpleasant perfume Of burning buffalo,
chips foated upward on the evening air,
a long, dark browed man with q big tel
escope rifle over his shoulder strolled
along the lake shore and sauntered up
to the scouts fire. This was Liver-eating
Johnson. who was acting as guide to the
He fad been found camped
alone IN the hostile country, and he went
along for So a day,--not because he
cared whether or not be was camped
alone on disputed dirt. He was a we'll
known frontier character who was said
to have been surrounded by band OF
Sioux on the Musselshell. He was stand
inc off the enemy when one of the war
riors dashed in upon him where he was
noled up in some rocks. He killed the
warrior, cut out his liver, and eat 1T in
sight of the Indians. This SO filled The
red men with superstition that they
withdrew and nicked off johnson ON
their coo-sticks as man to be let alone
Enyious frontiersmen who wished to de-
tract from Johnson's fame claimed that
he only drew the liver across his mouth
and let it get lost in his bnshy whiskers
instead of swallowing it, and that it
might have been the Indians gizzard or
lights instead of his liver. But he was
known on the frontier as Liver-eatlng
Johnson all the same, and he couldn't
have got his title BY eating livers around
slaughter-houses, for there were none
there then. AS Mr.. Johnson reached
the fire one of the scouts extended the
invitation which forms the opening par
agraph of this historical romance.
"Don't care if / do"
Crunch crunch Just two crunches
and the single solitary hardtack of that
outfit had been put through the rapid
reduction roller process and rolled right
down Liver-eatng Johnson's healthy
throat. II was sad sight to see those
scouts mixing their coffee and buffalo
meat with no hardtack to neutralize its
richness-oats without hav.
AS Mr.. johnson started back toward
camp he expressed the belief that he
might get a shot at duck on the way.
Nutting suggested that he get shot at
i box Of hardtack in the soldier camp.
Fact is" said Johnson, there's none
there. | heard you scouts had all there
was in the outfit, and came over pur-
pose to help you surround il"
AS LIVER eating Johnson lightly dozed
on his old piece of buffalo robe long
after taps or the hour for them that
night, big drop Of rain hit him in the
face. He raised on his elbow and told
his rifle the weather was coming wet.
He tucked it still further under the
blankets then hestepped around among
the .,rairie-grass and picked up buffalo
chip here and buffalo chip there, and
when he had three dezen dry ones
cached under his saddle he again turned
in and let 1t rain. At daylight be found
three troopers who were only too willin-
ID hold out a blanket while he cooked
/ s9rna bnfalo-meat and coffee under i
as the rain poured down. Wet buffalo
chips are no good. When ripe and dr.
they ahould be caughtat night when th'
barometer says it is raining next morn
ie0..-J, w. Redington.