The morning times., 1896-07-05
CREEDE WAS A FIGHTER
This Lieutenant Had Many
Escapes from Death.
RAlDED AN INDIAN CAMP
Single Handed, He Went In and
Captured a Number of Horses
From the Sioux.
RAIDED AN INDIAN CAMP

! During the month Of May, 1865, the
scouts, who were nearly all PawDee In
dians, received admission To go with the
Pawnees oD their annual buffalo hunt.
The Pawnee tribe was greatly pleased,
for where there are buffllues there are
Indians, and the Sioux were ever on the
lookout for an opportunity to drop in on the
Pawnees when they were least expected,
says the New York Sun.
Late one afternoon u party of scouts,
eight Ill humber. became separated from
the main force during the excitement in
cident to a chase after buffaloes, and be-
fore they had the slightest hint Of da nger
were completely surrounded by band Of
at least Il hundred Sioux. The hunters
were in q small basin in the sandhills,
while the low bluffs fairly bristled with
feathers.
The Sioux Would dash onward. shoot and
then retreat. Lieut.. Creede. two other
white men, and five Pa wnees composed
the party OF scouts This little band stoud
behind a circular breastwork formed by
their horses, but at the first charge of the
savage Sioux the poor animals sank to the
sand and died. The scouts now crouched
by the dead horses and half a dozen savage
Sioux fell during the next charge.
One savage, who appeared TO he more
fearless than the rest, dashed forward,
band OF scouts. Alas, for him! There
were, besides Creede, three sure shots
in the little circle, and before this daring
brave had got within so yards OF the
horseworks bullet pierced his brain. In
stead OF dropping to the ground and dying,
this Indian began to leap and bound about
exactly like a chicken would with its
head cut off, never stopping until he rolled
down within 15 feet of the scouts.
LIFTED HIS LAST SCALP.
There was boy in Creede's party, Sit
ta-re-kt by name, very intelligent
Pawnee, eighteen years old, who had
gone with the lieutenant to Washington
once to see the President of the United
States. There seemed to be no shadow OF
hope for the scouts, and this young man
began to run. Inasnuch as he started in
the direction OF the camp, which was but
u mile away, 1t is but fair to suggest
that he may have taken this fatal step with
the hope OF notifying the Pawnees of the
state OF affairs. This was the opinion of
Creede, while others Thought he was driven
mad by the desperate surroundings. He
had gone less than 100 yards, when a
Sioux rode up beside him and felled him
to the ground with u war club. The
young scout started to rise, was on his
knees, when the Sioux having dismounted,
reached for the scouts hair with his left
hand. All this was seen by the boys
companions.
1T was awful" said Creede, relating this
story to the writer. We had been together
SO much He was so brave. so honest and so
good. OfCourse, he was only an Indian, but
had learned to love him, aud when saw
the steel blade glittering in the setting sun
saw the savage atone swiftstroke sever the
scalp from the brave boys head, 1 was sick
at heart. 1t was fe to say that this was
the last scalp that Suioux ever lifted. After
he had been scalped. the boy got up and
walked on, right by the savage Sioux. lie
was safe enough now. Nothing on earth
would tempt an Indian to touch u man who
had been scalped, not even to kill him.
But let US return to the little I'd in the
basin surrounded by the Sioux. ;tis indeed
q small band now. Four OF them are dead,
one scalped and gone, but as often as their
Winchesters bark a Sioux drops. There was
nothing leftfor them now but to fight on to
the end.
A GALLANT RESISTANCE.
Death in this way was better than being
burned alive. There was no hope-DOt
shadow, for how were they toknow that one
of their companions had seen the Sioux sur
round them aud that the whole force Of
Pawnee scouts were riding to relieve this
handful of men, who were amusing them
selves at rifle practice while they waited for
de tn. But the darkest hour precedes the
d. IN, and now, with a wild yell the rescuers
rushed down upon the murderous SioGx,
who, without firing a shot, fled from the
field, leaving thirteen unlucky Indians upon
the battle-ground.
The brave boy never returned. He took
his own life, perhaps, for an Indian never
cares to live after he has lost his scalp,
knowing that his companions look upon him
as they look upon the dead.
One Of Craoda's ns.nr oaninna of the plains