The free press., 1893-07-13

MS Warflors-and hvely night we
had with them; but meantime oc-
Cured what seems to me perhaps the
bravest thing l ever saw in Indian
warfare.
'Look out for that ravinel" said
Colonel Mills to me, as l was
riding in among the lodges. "There's
a wounded Indian in there, and he has
killed one of my men,"
Sure enough! Out on the slopes
near the deep, brush hidden depths of
the little gorge a cavalry soldier, Wen
eel, was toppled forward on his
knees, stone dead, and Sergeant Hass
had just got bullet through the arm.
1t was plain that there must be more
than one Indian in there, for two
quick shots suddenly rang out, and
couple of scouts crossing the lowlands
near the mouth of the gully ducked
their heads and ran for shelter.
My orders required me to place the
fifth cavalry in position facing the
bluffs to the southeast and south of the
captured village. After this duty was
performed, and l had seen the various
troop commanders and given them the
colonePs instructions, l had leisure to
look about me. l did not dream what
a living volcano there was at the head
of that little ravine.
had found little patch of grass
down in sheltered nook and had
there ricketed my poor old troop
horse and was coming back afoot tow
ard the big ''lodge" of skins beside
which the colonel had unsaddled,
when caught sight of three or four
scouts and troopers crawling toward
the opening OF the ravine, evidently
bent on getting a shot at the occu-
pants.
In moment those fellows were
hattened out on the ground like
hunted squirrel on the trunk of tree,
and the moisture-laiden air rang with
shots as the lead whizzed over their
heads.
Every one seemed to wake up all at
once to the realization that there was
nest of redskins up at the head of the
gully Presently a concerted effort
was made to fetch them out.
Half dozen officers and several
dozen soldiers and scouts took part
and, as though by common consent,
the leadership devolved on one of the
bravest, manifest cavalrymen it was
ever my lot to know-Philo Clark,
then lieutenant and aide-de-camp to
General Crook,
remember him vividly as he looked
that day, the broad brim of his scout
ing hat tossed back from his forehead,
the collar of his buckskin hunting
shirt loosely fastened at the throat
no sign of uniform about him, for in
those days we rarely wore the army
blue on Indian campaigns.
He came striding forward, rife in
hand, and waving the men to ego in"
along the slopes to the right and left
of the ravine. He himself, to my
horror, coolly pushed straight for
ward into what Nigh: be called the
mouth of the gully-straigh on past
the point where the venturesome
troopers had been flaltened ont so
short time before.
In an instant, it seemed to me, the
clump of bushes at the upper end
began to spit fire like Fourth of July
mine. A blue cloud of sulphnr smoke
hung over the Indian burrow. The
clatter of rifle shots was like that of
Gatling gun. Several soldiers
dropped in their tracks along the
grassy slopes.
jim White, one of our best scouts
and a great friend of Buffalo BilPs,
gave one ghastly cry, 80 my Nod'
boys!" clasped his hands to his heart
and plunged forward on his face
stone dead.
Keeling back from the sudden shock
our men at the moment scattered right
and left, for we had struck formida-
BILE ambush. Not vestige OF an M
dian could we see, yet that scooped-
out shelter of theirs was evidently
crammed with them,
myself was over on the right bank
at the time, and duckod with amazing
promptltude when that storm o. hre
and lead burst on us. My next thonght