The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1891-01-30
BRAVE BOYS, THEY.
The Men Who Corraled the Re-
bellious Sioux.
GEN. MILES REVIEWS HIS TROOPS.

A Column of 5000 Veterans Passes be-
fore the General-The Gallant Sixth
and Seventh and the Ninth, OF Well
Won Fame, in Line-Redskins Line the
Hills and Watch, Suspicious of Every
thing-The Review Great Success I'm
Spite of bad weather.
PINE RIDGE AGENCY, s. D., Jan. 23.-The
thousands of Sioux had the opportunity
yesterday to see the strength and disci-
pline of the United States army, for the
end of the ghost dance rebellion was
marked by a review of all the soldiers who
have taken part in crushing the Indian re-
bellion. The day was one of the most dis
agreeable of the campaign. A furious
wind blew from the north, driving the
sand and snow over the valley in binding
and choking sheets. The camp of soldiers
was two miles from the agency. The
tents ran in long line through great
ravine, the sides of which were still fecked
with snow from the early morning storm.
The Reds Still Suspicious.
Through the sitting gale of sand Gen.
Miles and his staff rode in a ragged group,
the wind tossing the tails of their horses
over their TANKS. 1t was after 10 o'clock
when all preparations were made for the
review. The SUBMITS of the buttes to the
north were fringed with Sioux warriors,
who were closely wrapped in their blank
cts and staring stolidly at the long line of
cavalrymen and infantrymen which
stretched away to the south until
they were lost in the flying sand. The
redskins were a strange group of specta-
tors. They looked like Arabs as they are
sometimes seen in paintings, squatting on
the ground or mounted on ponies on the
top of the knobs when the sun is sinking.
Stretching in long, ghostly line on the
ridges of buttes to the north were their
pickets, ready to give the word that
would send the redskins flying in case the
soldiers should advance upon them.
The Sounds of the Bugles.
Finally there came through the gale the
shrill notes of the bugle. They were so
faint that they were almost lost in the
storm. Then one by one the trumpeters
took up the call and the great parade of
the regular army, began to pass in re-
view. Gen. Brooke, muffled up in wolf
skin overcoat, grimy from the sand that
swirled about his horse, and followed by
his staff, lei the procession. First came
the great detachment of Sioux scouts with
Capt. Taylor, his sword at salute, at
their head. Sergt. Red Shirt, the hand
soonest. Indian in the Sioux nation, was
at the extreme right, his long hair tossing
in tangled masses over his shoulders.
Yankton Charley, who saved the revolvers
of poor Lieut.. Casey, rode at the left of the
line, his Overcoat buttoned so closely about
him that the war feathers on his breast
were concealed.
The Guns Come Into View. :.
The shrill blasts of dozen bugles were
next heard. Behind the trumpeters
tramped the Second infantry, of Omaha,
in blue overcoats and brown legglngs,
with Maj. Butler at their head Then
came the Seventeenth infantry, swinging
along with the jauntiness it displayed
when it marched through the blizzard and
sand along the Cheyenne river. There
was a rumbling back of the infantrymen.
The mules, with patient-looking faces,
and statuesque ears, were dragging the ma
chine cannon, those guns the Indians de-
clare shoot to-day and kill tomorrow.
The noise came from battery of Calling
and Hotchkiss guns, with mules plodding
along at their sides, with cartridges
packed in white canvas bags on their
backs. Behind these machine cannon was
Capt. Capron's battery of three inch rifed
guns with soldiers holding carbines sit.
ting on the caissons.
The Glorious Sixth Cavalry.
Behind the artillery was Gen. Carr,
astride bay horse and leading the Sixth |
cavalry, which had cut it's way through
the southwest from the Indian nation to |
the Rio Grande. More Hotchkiss guns
followed. Then came the Leavenworth |
battalion, mixed regiment commanded |
by Col. Sanford. Behind these troops was |
still another battery of grim Hotchkiss |
guns, the carriages of which still bore evil |
dence of the furious storm of shot that |
ragged for an hour at Wounded Knee. A |
lean, shrunken-faced man, with his over |
coat buttoned tightly around his throat |
and mounted on splendid horse followed |
the cannon. 1t was Col. Guy V. Henry, |
who was shot through the face in the bat |
tie with the Sioux in 1876, and who led his |
flying negro troopers of the Ninth in an all |
night ride of eighty miles to save the Sew |
enth cavalry, which was treatened with |
Clusters fate less than four weeks ago.
A Line of Black Heroes.
Behind him were long lines Of black |
faces peeping from fur caps and the high |
collars of buffalo overcoats. The red and |
white gudons fiuttered before each COM
pany. The negro cavalry came in I'M
broken columns, with its world-famed and |
decorated heroes of the Thornburgh mas
sacre riding at the extreme left, their
carbines at salute. Every man in the |
Ninth cavalry was in that long ebony
wave of faces, and as it swept in front of |
Gen. Miles the famous Indian fighter
dipped his hat again and again.
There was another battery of machine
guns and then came in long column front |
the most celebrated regiment in the west
ern army. 1t was preceded by q bugle
corps mounted on white horses and from
the glittering instruments there came
shrill blast, that even the screaming of the
storm could not drown. The troopers of |
the Seventh savalry, regiment that has
been torn and leveled by the silent ghost
dancers on the buttes, was approaching. |
The musicians from California began to
play "Garry Owen" q stirring, rollicking |
melody, which Custer said was fit music